Let us rewind time, just a little.
“G-G-GAAAAAH! That that damnable harlot! I’ll… I’ll kill her!”
“Your Highness! C-Calm yourself!”
“Uuughk… I should have killed that wretch when I had the chance! Keh, ke-hurk!”
“Your Highness! Y-Your Highness!”
“The King has collapsed!”
“Call a physician, now!”
King James collapsed, a rage so potent it felt as if all the blood in his body was rushing to his head. He was unconscious for only half a day, but this, too, was a direct result of the Queen’s dazzling campaign of chaos across the British Isles.
What infuriated James the most was that all the Queen’s actions were, on their face, ‘supremely virtuous.’ Elizabeth had brought aid to the people of Ireland, even feeding the starving rebels. Elizabeth, pitying those suffering from the flood, had given them the chance to go to America. Elizabeth had braved great personal danger to visit and comfort those suffering from rebellion and war.
All of them were righteous deeds, worthy of praise for any monarch or Christian. And every single one of those righteous deeds was an action that chipped away, piece by piece, at James’s grip on England. Naturally, James did not believe for a second that the Queen had suddenly found God and was running around saving the populace.
But the people… the people would believe it.
That fact was so infuriating, James couldn’t bear it.
In any case, the crucial point was this: James’s control over England was slipping. Even if Elizabeth’s popularity soared, she was still a person residing on the other side of the Atlantic. For James’s authority in England to fall meant that the authority of the King, of the government, over England was weakening.
In other words,
“Brothers in faith, the day will soon come to wash away the sins of this land, which has betrayed the Holy and Universal Church! Finally!”
“Father, calm yourself. Let us first check the gunpowder stores.”
“The gunpowder is more than sufficient, is it not! Hahaha!”
It meant that the rebellious elements within England now had far more room to maneuver.
“Quite a few gathered at the last meeting! Why don’t we select those among them who are filled with particular loyalty?”
“Oh, amen. If we bolster our numbers, we can at least take on the local Protestant mobs. But can we move them to other regions in secret, for the plan?”
The influence of the Catholics, who sought to ally with Spain, was growing by the day. For decades, they had plotted to purify this fallen land and remove the Protestant tyrants. In truth, this was a foregone conclusion the moment the Queen had decided to come to England. The more Elizabeth extended her hand, the more James’s own domain would shrink.
Of course.
“Her Majesty the Queen is coming! She is coming here, to Liverpool!”
“UWAAAAAAH!”
The Queen, arriving in Liverpool with that knowing smile there was no way she was unaware of this.
She had a plan.
***
Liverpool.
This port, which until recently had been little more than a small fishing harbor, had exploded in size over the past decade as Atlantic trade developed. Its prosperity was a testament to the immense benefits England had gained from Virginia over the last ten-plus years. Elizabeth stepped onto the docks of Liverpool and looked around. Through the throngs of people reaching for her, she could see faces she recognized, popping up here and there.
Just as I thought.
The Queen smiled, satisfied. She moved with an elegant, regal gait, matching the adulation of the crowd. After riling the public into a frenzy for some time, the Queen quickly moved on,
“Your Majesty, these are your loyal subjects, gathered here upon hearing of your arrival.”
—to meet the ‘guests’ she had invited.
“Hmm.” She had spread the word from Bristol, from Cardiff, and from all across the Midlands.
I am going to Liverpool. I will greet my loyal subjects in Liverpool. Liverpool shall be my next destination.
Naturally, the ambitious lords and gentlemen of England had not let those words simply pass them by. They had quickly recognized it for what it was: an ‘invitation.’
An Earl from somewhere in the Midlands, a wealthy Baron from Cornwall, a landowner from near Yorkshire. Most of the influential men of England—those who had not participated in the London revolt, nor were they Catholics—had gathered here. The Queen slowly descended from her carriage, examining each man one by one. Their numbers, and their status, all exceeded her expectations.
As the Queen disembarked, all who had gathered knelt to pay their respects to their sovereign.
“These are your loyal subjects, gathered for Your Majesty. They are—“
“I can see with my own eyes how loyal they are. No further explanation is needed.”
The Queen cut off her chamberlain, her tall frame looking down on the kneeling men. And then, as if whispering to a child, she spoke in a soft tone.
“Those who rejoice at the sight of a blooming bud, they do not love the flower as truly as those who grieve to see a single petal wither and fall. You you are those who grieve.”
Supported by her attendants, she ascended a high dais. She smiled, as if this was where she was most comfortable. “And so it is with you.” Here, high above, looking down on all others. This was her natural home. “You have gathered here when your country and your sovereign are at their most vulnerable. Thus, you are more loyal than those who flocked to London when my kingdom was secure.”
At her words, the men, feigning deep emotion, rose to their feet.
The Queen moved through them, clasping the hand of each ‘loyal subject’ in turn…
Grip.
“You hold my hand for a particularly long time.”
“Seeing you, my righteous and beautiful Queen, my heart was overcome with excitement.”
“Ha!” She let out a knowing laugh. “I see you brought your son as well?”
“How could I hog the glory of seeing Your Majesty all to myself?”
“…”
And that was all.
“Well then, I must be going. Glory to England.”
“Gl-Glory to England! Long live the Queen!”
To the men who had waited weeks for her, she gave a handshake, and nothing more.
Then, she left.
“Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen!”
“How many people are here? We must secure a location at once!”
And yet, the scene was electric. The gentleman who had held the Queen’s hand so tightly stared at his own hand, as if entranced, then quickly stepped back to speak to his young son.
“My son! My son, Oliver!”
“Father? What is it?”
“Your father just shook Her Majesty the Queen’s hand. Do you know what that means?”
“No?”
“The men who shook her hand just now,” Robert Cromwell looked at his son, Oliver, and smiled. He whispered in his son’s ear, so that no one else could hear. “They will be the ones who rule England.”
“Wh-What does that mean?”
“Watch.” Robert Cromwell took his son, Oliver Cromwell, and headed toward the gathered crowd. Shouts were erupting from all sides.
“The Kingdom is in crisis! The loyal freemen of this land must gather at once!”
Someone had climbed the very dais the Queen had just stood on, shouting to the crowd.
“I agree! Who in this Kingdom would not agree!”
Then, someone else replied, with a perfectly timed gesture, as if it had all been rehearsed. Applause and cheers rose at the exact right moment, and at the exact right moment, they stopped.
“We! We loyal men! We will represent the freemen of England! In this storm, we will boldly set our anchor and move forward!”
“I am in full agreement! We are, at the very least, far more qualified than those traitors in London who claim to do the same!”
“Indeed! Long live England!”
“Long live the Queen!”
It was like an exaggerated play. It was like this because everyone already knew the beginning, the middle, and the end. Robert Cromwell leaped onto that cheer-filled stage, his son in tow, and shouted.
“Long live England! Long… live the Queen!”
That was the finale.
It was the birth of a new power.
The Queen had only shaken their hands and left, but the handshake was enough.
That handshake had become the mark distinguishing the true rulers of England. From now on, these ‘loyalists,’ ‘certified’ by the Queen, innocent of treason, would become the center of England. The men cheering here would seize an authority greater than the ‘fake’ parliament established by the traitors in London.
They would fill the power vacuum in England, created when the Queen fled, the rebels seized London and Parliament, and the crown passed to Scotland. They would become the real rulers of England. It was this knowledge that made them so excited.
“Your Highness? Y-Your Highness!”
“Ugh… my head is still pounding. Make it quick. If this isn’t urgent news about ‘that woman,’ do not bother me.”
“…”
“Ah.”
“Word has… arrived… Queen Elizabeth held a meeting in Liverpool with the most influential men of England.”
“G-G-GAAAAAAHK!”
James of Scotland had fainted. Again.
Damn it all… the power that should have been mine… My… just, authority over England… —“I will make you one proposal, James.” This… wasn’t it…
—“From this moment, I will make you Co-King of England. I will also split the resources from the New World with you, fifty-fifty.”
The Co-King I imagined… it wasn’t supposed to be like this… Just before he lost consciousness, James squeezed his eyes shut and spoke to his son, Charles. My son. You must never… …Never trust the English… And study hard.
***
Elizabeth had personally anointed the legitimate rulers of England.
In other words: The possibility of James, the (Co-)King of Scotland (and England), swallowing England whole while the Queen was gone and Parliament was in shambles had just plummeted.
England, save for the rebel-held territory of London, was now theirs.
James was not the only one who foamed at the mouth in reaction to this news.
The foundation for a new power had been laid in an ownerless England. Order and authority had returned to the English, who had been scattered and terrified like a flock without a shepherd. The English political situation had found a new, stable center.
“A new parliament has been established in Chester? This… This is absurd!”
“Who was it that delayed our plans! Was it not you? Take responsibility!”
“M-My fault?! Who could have known that greedy Queen would go so far as to abdicate her own authority just to do this!”
The radical Catholics, who had been planning to make their move in the chaos, were also thrown into disarray. In an instant, their public demonstrations and movements dissolved. The secret meetings being held in various places were discovered. The clandestine plans for the King’s kidnapping or assassination had to be drastically altered.
No, in truth, they were canceled.
They fell into a panic, standing up, pointing fingers at each other, and screaming. Esteemed gentlemen and titled nobles alike lost all dignity, scrambling in confusion. In the midst of this situation,
“Everyone… stop!”
At a young man’s shout, the chaos ceased for a brief second, and then, after the men had glanced at him, it resumed as before.
Who do you think you are? You’re lucky to even be in this room, with all these high-status men. A lawyer’s whelp, trying to get some attention by shouting…
K-WHANG! K-WHANG! K-WHANG! KRA-ACK!
“…” “…” “…”
“Now. It is quiet.”
The conspirators looked to the side.
The young man had taken an iron mace from the wall and smashed his own chair to pieces with it.
The young man, having destroyed the chair, had finally captured the attention of this meeting of young, clumsy conspirators. He climbed onto the table. Looking down on all of them with a deliberate arrogance, he spoke. “All of you, why are you doing this? Why do you make such a fuss upon hearing such good news?”
“A-A-Are you mad? ‘Good news’? How is it ‘good news’ that the Protestant lackeys have united under the Queen’s directive?”
At someone’s retort, the young man raised one corner of his mouth, tapping his head. “It seems that, in your foolishness, you have misinterpreted this joyous news.”
“…”
“A new order has been established in England. The Queen’s new Protestant puppets, the parliament, whatever you call them! Those bastards will soon take control of England and try to crush us!”
“And how is that good news?”
“Because, if they take control of England, there is one more person who will hate it.”
“…”
“…”
“James! James of Scotland!”
Someone quick-witted shouted, and the young man smiled, murmuring, “Precisely. Now, the authority of two kingdoms, the King’s authority and the Queen’s authority, the Monarch’s authority and Parliament’s authority, will clash! And in the midst of them fighting, tearing, and clawing at each other… do you truly think we will have little to gain?”
England would now suffer the labor pains of a new government, born of struggle and compromise.
Scotland was only just now getting its lords on a leash, thanks to James distributing the furs and resources he’d gotten from Virginia.
Ireland, even as the Catholic coalition solidified its victory, was still in chaos from the famine of the long war.
The British Isles, which until recently had been held under Elizabeth’s iron-clad authority, were now fracturing.
And division and chaos, were always an opportunity for the ambitious.
“We must hurry and find another ambitious member of the Stuart family. Before they decide it is better to contact this so-called ‘New Parliament’ than to contact us!”
THUD!
The young man stamped his foot on the table.
“Furthermore, we must find and recruit those who have been abandoned and pushed aside in this new alignment! This is our chance to expand our influence as never before!”
THUD!
“And yet, what are you all doing, instead of stockpiling more gunpowder and preparing more men and more blades?”
“…” “…” “…”
“We are at a watershed moment. And,” The young man hopped lightly off the table, next to the chair he had just destroyed, and adjusted his hat. “I will do whatever it takes to return this England, so full of Satan’s glory, to a holy land of the Gospel. I will do… whatever it takes.”
So spoke the young man with the mace, Guy Fawkes.
***
Back in Liverpool.
There were no major incidents. Aside from a few assassination attempts, Catholic riots, and ecstatic public gatherings. By filling her entire security detail with faces the Queen knew and with Americans, the couple of assassination attempts were easily thwarted.
The idiotic Catholics who had swarmed this small port city were also no problem, having been trampled into jelly by the surrounding crowds. And the public, too, was deftly controlled by the Queen, and the crowds were calmed without any major injuries.
But,
“The things this city has endured… it seems to me, they show the chaos of the kingdoms themselves.”
“…” “…” “…”
As the time came to depart, the Queen spoke, as if the thought had just occurred to her on the docks. The crowd, the self-proclaimed ‘interim councilors,’ all fell silent, focusing on her words.
“How has this land, where the Lord once walked, become so full of noise? How has the blood and tears of so many turned the soil to mud?” The Queen’s voice was full of anguish, and those closest to her could see a few tears fall from her eyes. They were swept up in the emotion, in the drama of the moment, and wept at the thought of her departure. The Queen shared in their grief for a moment, and then,
“But, I swear to the Lord, I believe!” She suddenly shouted. The crowd, the councilors, and Robert Cromwell and his young son, Oliver, all of them calmed their pounding hearts and raised their heads.
They listened to the Queen’s voice.
“One day, one will come to this land who will calm this chaos! As Catholic and Protestant fight, as the kingdoms are divided and suffer! Someone will break these waves, and someone will calm this storm! One day! Beneath his feet, these kingdoms shall be one again! Until then, wait!”
“U-UWAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!”
The vast majority of the crowd, without much thought, simply cheered at the Queen’s beautiful, short speech. But,
“…”
Robert Cromwell felt a thrill shoot through him.
Suddenly, the Queen was speaking like someone who had been to the end of the world and back. Like someone, who had hidden a treasure at the end of that world. It was as if she was saying:
I will give you the British Isles, if you want them. Whoever… whoever can calm this chaos… shall be its master!
Cromwell, and several other ambitious men, stared with wide eyes, watching the Queen. Watching her depart. She had planted a great dream in them, and left.
“One day, beneath my feet.” Robert Cromwell muttered under his breath.
And young Oliver’s eyes sparkled as he watched the clipper sail away.