Autumn 1587. England waits for King Philip of Spain to launch his attack.
Roberda, Gawen Champernowne’s French Huguenot wife has rebuilt her life as Mistress of Dartington Hall after his cruel attempt to set her aside. Amid false alarms and rumours of imminent invasion she rallies the terrified people of the remote manor house. Gawen’s unexpected return from Ireland throws her world into turmoil. Against the advice of her maid and confidante, Clotilde, she accepts Gawen’s offer of a reconciliation, while fears of invasion grow.
In July 1588, Roberda awaits the birth of another child when news arrives that the Armada has been sighted. The warning beacons are lit and Gawen’s cousin Sir John Gilbert musters his men on Warborough Common. In this excerpt William Putt, Roberda’s faithful steward returns to give an eye witness account.
‘Did you see them, William? Did you see the Spanish ships?’ Arthur’s eager face shone, but in stark contrast, William’s expression turned grave. He gave a slow, deliberate nod.
‘That I did, young master. That I did. I hope I never see anything so terrifying again.’ He shook his head from side to side.
‘Did you see my husband?’ Clotilde gave me a black look but I couldn’t contain my anxiety any longer. William shrugged his shoulders.
‘He was beside Sir John at the start. But then a messenger came – oh my, there were so many of them flying around at such a rate! Post horses commandeered and ready for the riders to change everywhere from here to London and back again. They carry word almost as fast as the beacons.’ I scowled and set my hands on my hips.
‘But what of my husband?’
‘Once the threat of a landing was over, Master Gawen led all his mounted men away. Bound for Tilbury, where Lord Leicester assembles his forces in case the Spanish should succeed and join up with Parma. There’s concern they may launch an attack from Kent or Essex. Or so I believe, ma’am.’
‘As I feared! May God protect him!’ Feeling light-headed, I sank onto the settle, waving Marie away as she thrust a cushion behind me. Margery Searle, the midwife, on hand as my time drew near, gave me a long stare as she took Marie’s place at my side. I ignored her pursed lips and furrowed brow.
‘Tell us more about the ships, William.’ Arthur piped up. ‘What colour were their sails? Could you see the guns?’ Arthur’s cheeks had a feverish glow.
‘Their sails are black as the night sky – like an endless line of black ants, they came crawling across the horizon – all the way from Berry Head to way beyond Hope’s Nose, as far as I could see. They say they sail in convoy, all grouped tight together in a shape like the horns of the new moon. Each of their great ships protects another.’ He took a long draught from the mug and wiped his mouth on his sleeve before he went on.
‘Another rider came from Plymouth, said he’d heard the guns. Sir Francis and Lord Howard had to wait for the tide before they could give chase. They engaged the enemy in fierce fighting. It sounds like they harried the Spanish fleet, but could not stay them, nor break their formation. Those great galleons sailed on to meet the Duke of Palma and his army. Then they’ll likely unleash a multitude of Papist soldiers on our shores.’
Even Arthur fell silent when he heard the chilling truth confirmed by William’s words. While imminent danger no longer threatened Devon, the war was far from done. My mouth was dry with fear as the child wriggled and squiggled inside me.
‘So they sail on to threaten our land!’ I said, my voice shrill. ‘I pray they will keep a close guard on our Queen. God alone knows what world this boy will be born into!’ Margery’s scrutiny bore into me, noticing every detail, until her eyes came to rest on my feet.
‘It would be best if you would sit down, ma’am,’ she said, eyeing my ankles.
‘Nonsense… William has more to tell us. Go on.’ He set down his empty mug with a sigh.
‘Our Devon men have come home. I doubt Sir John could have kept them any longer – they drifted away as soon as those devilish ships had passed Torbay. There’s a lot of muttering about pay – or the lack of it! Yet our English soldiers must still stand ready at Dover or Tilbury or wherever they gather. Begging your pardon, ma’am, but I pray the Queen has the sense to pay those men and see them well fed.’
We were all quiet, digesting the depressing news. At last William spoke in a more encouraging tone.
‘Yet there’s some cause for hope. Our English ships are faster and can turn about. They’re nimble and they can tack into the wind. And we have the finest commanders. Perhaps they’ll catch them before they reach Flanders.’
‘So we have captured no prizes yet, William? Not put any of those Papist fools to the sword?’ Arthur asked. William shook his head, and Arthur collapsed onto a bench, his young face twisted into a frown.
‘Well, now, that’s not quite true, young master,’ William said, and the boy sat up, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. ‘There’s one of them won’t trouble us any more. The Nuestra Senora del Rosario, flagship of Don Pedro de Valdés, who had command of some other great ship.’
‘What do you mean? Has Sir Francis blasted her out or the water?’ Arthur’s face brightened at the prospect.
‘They say Sir Francis took her – but not before some of the damned English Papists she had on board had slipped away! Traitors, the lot of ’em!’
‘Amen to that!’ The words burst out from Marie as she snapped her sewing basket shut. She stared at William as he continued his tale.
‘Sir Francis had the Rosario brought into Torbay. Saw it myself, I did. They say Don Pedro’s taken up and any Spaniards that might fetch a ransom. They took a few more of the crew and some English Papists up to London. May they hang and rot!’ That brought out a ripple of agreement amongst the servants.
‘The Spaniards they didn’t take to London – well, Lord alone knows what they’ll do with them. Taken ’em to Torre Abbey, I heard. Locked ’em up in the barn.’
Although my back ached from standing so long, I rallied my dwindling store of strength and spoke up to cheer them all.
‘The prisoners are not our problem. William, I’m glad to have you back and the other men too! Let us all go about our business as we await more news.’
Most of us at Dartington Hall breathed a little easier, slept a little better. Yet I tossed on the feather mattress, fighting off demons. Thoughts of Gawen plagued me.’
In the event, the Spanish Armada was scattered to the winds. However Roberda has many more challenges to face is she is to remain Mistress of Dartington Hall and secure her children’s inheritance.
