Armada

They sat and Robert asked perfunctorily after the well being of his two older and two younger cousins, three of whom were living nearby. He had never been close to them, and he felt they had always treated him as an outsider. He quickly moved to ask his father about his business. Like most men in Brixham, William Varian was a fisherman. But unlike most he was not the owner of only one boat. He had been left a small inheritance by his father and he had used it to start a business. That initial investment was followed by decades of hard work over which he had amassed a sizable fleet of leased and purchased boats. He now drew a comfortable living trading the catch of his small fleet to the larger inland towns.

After some time, Catherine sensed a change in the direction of the conversation. She left the room to supervise dinner as William began to question Robert on the recent attack on the Spanish mainland. They had heard from Tobias Miller, Robert’s master from the Spirit, that Robert had sailed with Drake after the fleet had departed and William knew only that John Hawkins had ordered the transfer.

William had felt a profound sense of pride when he had heard the news. Spain was England’s greatest threat and to have his son, albeit adopted, in the vanguard against such a foe brought great honour to the family. It was also a testament to his success in imbuing Robert with his beliefs, a task William had begun from the moment he had taken in his sister’s twelve year old only son.

Unswerving loyalty to faith, crown and country were at the core of William’s being. He had been taught such principles by his father, as had his father before him, and whereas William had ensured his own children grew up strong in such beliefs, his tuition of Robert had always been hindered by the fact that the boy’s first twelve years had been spent under the influence of a father who had rebelled against the monarchy.

To subvert the Crown was to place the entire country in jeopardy and William had abhorred this treason. In the time of William’s great-grandfather the nobility had been torn apart by civil war, and out of the maelstrom the House of Tudor had emerged, uniting the factions. It was England’s unity, under a strong monarch, that kept her free. Internal divisions would render her easy prey for the expanding dominant powers on the continent.

Robert outlined the events of the previous ten weeks, drawing William’s concern for his injury when he spoke of Cadiz, and his admiration at Robert’s elevation to the rank of Captain. Robert spoke only briefly on the sack of Sagres, not wanting to be drawn into a conversation that would reignite his guilt. The weeks of skirmishing off Cape Saint Vincent prompted many questions from William and Robert smiled as he savoured the answers.

‘Then it is believed that Spain is thwarted?’ William asked as Robert concluded.

‘At least for this season, maybe even the next. The supplies we captured or destroyed will not easily be replaced.’

‘Where is Drake now?’

‘I believe he travelled to London. The Sao Phelipe was an enormous prize and I warrant Drake wants to present the Queen’s share to her in person.’

William nodded and for a moment was silent.

‘God protect Drake,’ he said solemnly. ‘Despite the error of his beliefs he is one of our greatest hopes of keeping the Spanish horde at bay.’

Robert murmured an agreement. He was glad the Spanish had been defeated, yet for a brief moment, when his father had spoken of Drake’s misguided beliefs, Robert had pictured the crucifix on the chest of the Spanish commander of the Halcón.

‘They share our faith,’ he said simply, looking to his father, hoping for guidance.

‘They do, Robert,’ William replied, ‘but the return of England to the true faith will not be accomplished through Spanish ambition. I trust you know that.’

Robert nodded imperceptibly.

‘Philip may trumpet the Catholic cause but I suspect his pride commands an equal share of his motives,’ William continued. ‘He will not invade England to place a Catholic monarch on the throne and then simply withdraw his army.’

‘But with the death of Mary Stuart surely all hope is gone that an English Catholic monarch will succeed to the throne and we will witness a day when we are free to practise our faith, when I can reclaim …’

Robert stopped short, suddenly realizing that he had unconsciously linked a successful Spanish invasion with the return of his title and family honour.

William sat forward, an angry rebuke rushing to his lips, but he held his tongue. From experience he knew that the balance of loyalties between faith, crown and country was difficult to maintain, particularly at time of national crisis. William had known two such occasions when adherence to one or more tenets of his beliefs had threatened another, almost pushing the balance to the tipping point of collapse.