In the years that followed many and varied were the events which took place in England.
Mary Stuart justified all Elizabeth’s fears for there had been constant intrigue culminating in the Rising of the North in 1569, when the predominantly Catholic North had once more risen under the banner of the Five Wounds of Christ and had marched south with the object of freeing Mary from her prison. The rebellion had been quelled and Elizabeth had shown little mercy to the offenders. The ringleaders, Northumberland, Westmoreland and Dacre, fled to Scotland and Norfolk was imprisoned in the Tower.
It was during the same year that Jane Allgrave gave birth to her first child, a daughter who was named after the Queen herself.
Scotland was causing some concern in the Spring of 1570, for a convention was held by the Scottish lords at Linlithgow and the refugee English Lords who had fled from Elizabeth’s wrath were invited to attend to represent their country. John Gordon had been sent as their representative to the Queen with the request that Mary Stuart be returned.
Elizabeth's answer to this insult had been to send Sussex, Lord Hunsdon and Baron Scrope into Scotland with an army which systematically burnt and destroyed ninety castles, houses and crofts. Three hundred towns and villages and all towers and forts within twenty miles of the border.
Upon hearing of these events, Scotland’s ally, France, had informed the English Queen that should these raids be repeated France would send an army to Scotland.
Elizabeth had calmly replied that to submit without resistance to the inroads of the Borderers would be to abandon the realm to be conquered by rebellion and to yield her crown to any that would with force invade it.
The French ambassador, La Mothe Fenelon, had intimated that France would not allow the Queen of Scots to be held a prisoner in England indefinitely. Elizabeth replied somewhat heatedly, “I am astonished that the King of France should think so lightly of the Queen of Scots' enormities. Her friends have given shelter to English rebels and with her aid and connivance have levied war against me with fire and sword. No sovereign in Europe would sit down under such a provocation!”
Certain letters had come to light, commonly referred to as the “Casket Letters”, which incriminated Mary in the death of her husband. A commission had been set up first of all in York and then Westminster to weigh the matter of the Queen of Scots' position. She herself had refused to attend, stating proudly that she was a Queen and therefore no one held the power to sit in judgement upon her. She had been moved from castle to castle under the wardenship of the Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury but trouble and intrigue had followed every move.
The year 1570 had also seen the Bull of Excommunication fixed to the doors of the palace of the Bishop of London. Elizabeth was declared a heretic, an outcast and her subjects were released from their allegiance to her. She had remained unperturbed for she cared little for the edict. She had, however, strengthened the channel fleet, feeling that perhaps one of the more zealous Catholic Princes might feel it his duty to support the edict of the Pope with force. In the same year came the news from Scotland of the assassination of Mary’s half-brother, Moray. News which Elizabeth viewed with dismay.
While Scotland seethed with unrest and Rome thundered forth its denunciation of Elizabeth, a second child was born to Edward and Jane Allgrave. This time it was a son whom they called Martin and his mother wondered, as mothers throughout the ages have wondered, whether it was indeed a fit world into which to bring children.
The year 1572 had seen the bloody massacre of French Huguenots by the Catholics on the Eve of St. Bartholomew. Protestant Europe was appalled and disgusted. The French ambassador when he came to try to explain the vicious murders was received in utter silence by Elizabeth and she and her entire court had been clothed in black.
That year saw too the execution of the Duke of Norfolk for his part in what was called the Ridolfi Plot. Norfolk’s ambition had finally got the better of his common sense for he saw himself as King of England with Mary Stuart as his Queen. A dream which had been encouraged by Mary herself.
Perhaps the only good events of that year could be said to be the Treaty of Blois with France and the elevation to the post of Lord Treasurer of William Cecil, now Lord Burghley.
Elizabeth was beset by problems on all sides. Foremost in her mind being that of Mary of Scotland. Cecil pressed for peace with Spain. Walsingham, now Secretary of State, urged her to send aid to the Protestants in the Low Countries who were struggling to throw off the yoke of Spain and she needed all the powers of statecraft she possessed to steer her way safely ahead.
Spring of 1577 came slowly and reluctantly. The flowers seemed loath to push their way up through the soil which still held the chill of winter and only a few trees had new, green shoots upon them.
Just as reluctantly, or so it seemed to Jane, her third child showed little inclination to be born. She smiled placidly laying down her needlework. God had been good for her two other children were healthy and active and so many babies died. She quickly said a prayer for she feared to tempt fate, the child she now carried had yet to be born.
Margaret arrived to take the two children away to their nurse for Jane tired quickly of late. Margaret had grown plumper and her once fair hair was now silver beneath the hood she still wore, although it had long been discarded by younger, more fashionable women.
“Come now, your mother must rest,” she said, taking five-year old Martin by the hand.
“No,” the little boy replied stubbornly.
Jane sighed, he was very like his father sometimes.
“Martin, please go with grandmother now. I promise that when I have rested for a little while you can come back and I will read you a story.”
He hesitated but the inducement of a piece of marchpane from his grandmother had its effect.
Little Elizabeth Allgrave kissed her mother. “Will my new sister or brother be here when we come back?” she asked. She was a sweet child with Jane’s own gentle nature.
“No, I don’t think so, Beth. Perhaps tomorrow.”
“Come now,” Margaret said, popping a sweetmeat into the little girl’s mouth as she led them both away to the nursery. But to their surprise a few hours later two excited children crept quietly into their mother’s bed-chamber and peeped with wide eyes at the tiny little mite who nestled in their mother’s arms.
“What shall we call him, Beth?” Jane asked.
Beth shook her head for she was a little disappointed that she had a brother and not a sister.
“Paul,” Martin said. “Call him Paul.”
Margaret looked at Jane and smiled. Jane nodded.
“Then we shall call him Paul.”
When Jane was fully recovered and the baby was nearly six months old, Edward begged of his wife the greatest favour that he had ever asked.
When supper was over and his parents had retired, he gently took the book his wife was reading and laid it down.
Taking her hands he said, “Jane, there is something I would ask of you.”
“Edward, you know that you only have to ask and if it is at all possible…”
“Jane,” he interrupted, “this is something that I fear will cause you much heartsearching and which will mean great sacrifices for you.”
Her eyes became troubled wondering what he could possibly mean.
“All my life, Jane, I have tried to be what father has wished of me. But there is in me a wanderlust… an urge to travel. There are times when I feel that these walls are closing in upon me; that I shall die without ever having seen the lands beyond these shores.” He paused, a voice within him reminding him that he had no right to be so selfish, no right to ask of Jane this thing. Hesitantly he went on, “Drake is fitting an expedition to sail to the New World and to discover what lies beyond.” He held her hands tighter. “Jane, let me go with him? It is the chance of a lifetime; a chance to see for myself what no Englishman has seen before! I know I have no right to ask, no right to leave you and the children but I feel that it is my last chance, Jane. I have to go,” he pleaded.
She looked at him with bewilderment. Had she heard correctly? He wanted to leave her and the children and sail away on a voyage into the unknown from which he may never return, leaving her to worry and wonder. She had always known of this wild spirit that made him strain at times at the ties that held him but she had thought that he had come to terms with it.
“Edward,” she whispered, “I… do not know, I cannot…” she stammered.
“Take time to think upon it. Do not make a hasty decision.”
She slept little that night. To refuse she had every right to do but what would life be like with him tied forever to his post at Court? What would life be like with him sailing the uncharted seas? She was afraid to think about it. She watched the candle as it burnt lower and lower, trying to envisage life without him. Just before dawn she came to her decision.
“Edward,” she whispered, “Edward, are you awake?”
“Yes. I, too, could not sleep. Jane, it was wrong of me to ask. I will…”
She pressed her fingers upon his lips to silence him. “I cannot hold you here, my love, when your heart is with Drake.”
Gently he removed her hand and kissed the palm. “No, Jane, my heart will always be here with you.”
When Margaret heard of the proposed expedition she seriously doubted the sanity of both her son and his wife.
“Jane! How can you let him go? He may never return! Think of the children! Have you both taken leave of your senses?” she cried in desperation.
“He has to go for he will never rest otherwise.”
“Edward, you have no right to ask this of her. Do you realise the anxiety… the…” she threw up her hands in despair.
“Margaret, the decision is theirs,” Richard tried to calm her. He had known for years that something like this would happen for Edward had grown up with a spirit of adventure that time would not quell.
“If you go with Jane’s blessing, then you go with mine also,” he said. He had lost one child because he had held the ties too tightly. It was better that Edward should go and get this wanderlust out of his system. He knew that he would never know whether Edward would return safely or not, for he knew that he was dying and that when his son sailed away it would be the last time he would ever see him.