A Second Daniel

by Neal Roberts

  Noah shrugs. “It is how I’ve earned my keep, madam. But, in truth, I would be better pleased to serve one mistress until the end of my days.”

  “Then, so you shall,” she says, and laughs. “Unless, what you meant is that you intend to marry!”

  “That is not what I meant. But, madam, now that you mention it, I have heard that persons appearing in the royal presence are expected to seek the Sovereign’s approval before marrying, and … well, I am planning on marrying again.”

  The Queen claps her hands with glee. “And who is the lucky maid?”

  “Her name is Marie Miller — ”

  “Southampton’s sister? I’ve heard she’s quite beautiful.”

  This is awkward. “Your Majesty, although she was reared in the manor house, in fact she is not the earl’s sister.”

  The Queen bows her head indulgently. “Doesn’t matter. Good for her! Have you come to seek my blessing?”

  “If Your Majesty’s approval is … ”

  “Oh, I see. You seek my blessing only if you need it!”

  “Not at all, madam. It’s just that we are not Church of England, and I did not know whether … ” His voice trails off.

  “Do you know why the Sovereign’s consent is required for the marriages of those in her family, and others around her?”

  He considers a moment. “No.”

  She smiles. “Well, that’s the briefest answer I’ve heard from you, Serjeant Ames. It is to give the Sovereign an opportunity to prevent those around her, especially family, from entering into an alliance inimical to the interests of England. You do need my consent, sir, as will Lady Burlington, when the time comes.” She sits up gaily. “As for your choice, you have my blessing. Are you inviting me to the wedding?”

  Noah’s mouth hangs open in amazement.

  “Briefer still!” She laughs.

  “While we would be thrilled for you to attend, madam, even in my mind’s eye I cannot envision Your Majesty in such a place.”

  “There is an arras for every occasion, Serjeant Ames.”

  “It’s not that, madam. It’s that there have been no fixed places for such weddings … since the expulsion.”

  “Ah, I see,” she says with regret. “Well, how would you like to present your lovely bride and daughter to me here, after the wedding?”

  “It is an honor that I dream not of, madam. I would greatly appreciate it, as would they!”

  “Done! I have been hearing about Lady Burlington in glorious detail since last summer. Half of London is in her thrall. Where is she now?”

  “She is temporarily in the care of Sir Henry, at Billingbear.”

  At first, the Queen seems alarmed to hear it, but in a moment she waves away her concern. “Oh, he’s an old man now, I suppose.”

  Chapter 31

  JESSICA IS SO excited that Noah can only laugh. They’ve just been formally instructed how to behave in the royal presence, and now wait outside the room in which they’ll meet Her Majesty. Jessica keeps standing on her toes as she did as a toddler, her eyes wide.

  Marie, now Mistress Marie Ames, tries to calm her down. “Dear, Her Majesty is unlikely to be favorably impressed by such behavior.”

  Jessica looks at her wide-eyed, as though she’d calm down if she could. She lets go a little whimper and stops tiptoeing.

  Jessica is, as always, beautifully dressed in a form-fitting outfit that looks as though it’s been designed around her. In keeping with the Spanish motif of the wedding a few hours earlier, she wears a large white flower in her hair, which is bound tautly back, and a long curl pasted to one cheek. Her dress and shoes are black, and her chemise a stark white.

  “Do I look all right? Not too Spanish?” asks Jessica, as Marie adjusts the chemise.

  “You’re adorable, dear, I assure you.” Marie crinkles her nose. “Not too Spanish.”

  Marie takes Noah’s hand, and smiles. Marie herself is beautifully dressed, perhaps a bit more gravely than the occasion requires, in observance of her widowed status.

  The door opens, and a lady-in-waiting announces them.

  “Your Majesty, may I present Jessica, Lady Burlington,” Marie squeezes Noah’s hand excitedly, “and Serjeant and Mistress Noah Ames.” The door swings wide.

  The Queen stands before her chair, beaming at them as they enter, her hands clasped together over her heart. Beside her stand the Cecils, beaming almost as broadly.

  Noah bows, while Marie and Jessica curtsey.

  “Please rise,” says the Queen, “and let me look at you all.” She takes a long look at them, shaking her head. “Lord Burghley, this is a tableau fit for a Holbein painting. If this is not English stock, we would be wise to beautify ourselves with such heavenly creatures!”

  “Indeed we would, Majesty,” says Burghley.

  “Serjeant Ames,” says the Queen, “if it would be agreeable to you, we should like to confer our blessing upon each of these two lovelies separately.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  “Lord Burghley,” she says, “why don’t you and Sir Robert attend to those other matters we discussed.” Burghley and Sir Robert bow and depart silently.

  “Lady Burlington?” says the Queen. Jessica approaches her unsteadily. As the Queen is so skilled at doing, in a moment she’s put Jessica at ease, and the two chat amiably. The Queen hands Jessica a jewel box, and sends her back to Noah.

  “Mistress Ames?” says the Queen, beckoning Marie. Although Noah cannot hear a word the two say, they seem to be enjoying themselves. At the conclusion of the interview, which lasts only a few minutes, the Queen hands Marie a small box. Marie thanks her, curtsies, and rejoins Noah and Jessica.

  “Serjeant Ames,” says the Queen, “you are a most fortunate fellow to have the love of two such deserving women. My blessings upon your marriage and your future together.”

  “Thank you, Majesty,” Noah replies.

  “You may go,” says the Queen, beaming as before.

  With a bow and curtsey, they step backward out of the room. Noah allows Marie and Jessica to leave before him.

  “Serjeant Ames,” says the Queen, “please prepare yourself to address the clemency application in one week’s time.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you so much for seeing us today.”

  As Noah backs out, the Cecils return. He bows, and shuts the door quietly behind him. He says to Marie quietly, “Care to tell me what you two discussed?”

  Marie smiles at him, and smooths his cheek with her hand. “No chance,” she says.

  It’s a mid-afternoon in springtime when the abortive clemency hearing reconvenes in the same room at Richmond Palace. Outside, a storm is brewing and, despite the hour, the sky darkens.

  Noah has taught Jonathan never to submit a petition on paper alone if a personal appearance is permitted, so Jonathan has chosen to appear before Lord Burghley again. Both Noah and Jonathan are thankful that Essex will be absent, and positively delighted to hear that the Queen will personally attend.

  Whether intentionally or absentmindedly, the Queen is perched on the throne. The effect of her simply taking the seat was transfixing. There were only a few spectators to see it, however, one of whom was Henry Neville.

  Jonathan has nearly completed his presentation of legal and factual points, and finishes in good form with an appeal to humanity.

  “Your Majesty,” he says. “When last I spoke with Doctor Lopez, I asked him whether he would ever have poisoned the Queen in exchange for the ruby given him by the King of Spain. He said: ‘Never. For the Queen is a virtuous woman.’ Then, by heart, he quoted Proverbs 31:10, which says: ‘Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.’

  “I asked him how Your Majesty could be sure that he would never have abused his status as a physician to poison Your Majesty, and he said: ‘Master Hawking, would you ever abuse your position as barrister to send your client to the gallows for money?’ I said: ‘Why, no!’ And he said, ‘Do you know why not?�
�� and then proceeded to answer his own question: ‘Because when you have practiced a learned profession for many years, you become your profession. My identity,’ he said, ‘is that of physician. If I were to betray the trust of my patient, I would betray my own identity, and my God. This I could never do.’ Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “Well spoken, Master Hawking,” says the Queen. “While we do not intend to arrive at a conclusion in this matter today, we will tell you that, although we do not believe Doctor Lopez would have attempted to poison our person, upon review of the unchallenged evidence, disregarding all evidence to which objection has been made, we believe it clear that Doctor Lopez, for at least a time, was engaged in a conspiracy, one spoke of which countenanced the poisoning death of Señor Perez, who was here in England under Crown protection. Now, this is high treason, regardless of whether Doctor Lopez would in fact have carried out such poisoning himself. We believe therefore that he is probably guilty of high treason, albeit not precisely that for which he was convicted.”

  Jonathan interrupts. “Your Majesty, an English court can convict an accused only of the crime charged!”

  The Queen nods. “Be that as it may, Master Hawking, it is beyond the scope of this tribunal to dispense perfect justice. It is consequently our preliminary opinion that, in the exercise of clemency, we should remit only the portion of the sentence providing for the convicted to be drawn and quartered, but to allow his execution to take place by hanging. While this may be — ”

  There’s a sharp rapping at the door. The Lord Steward enters, pale as a sheet.

  The Queen is visibly annoyed. “Yes, m’lord. What is it? Can it not wait?”

  “I believe Your Majesty would wish to know this news immediately … even under these circumstances.” The Lord Steward sounds strangely hoarse today.

  “Oh, very well,” she accedes impatiently.

  “Your Majesty, the writ of execution which you signed some months ago, that was being held by Lord Essex — ”

  The Queen blanches. “Oh, don’t tell me he released it without my instructions!” She rises from the throne and comes to the very edge of the elevated apron.

  “Not exactly, madam. However, I have learned that, together with his friend Tinoco, Doctor Lopez was in fact,” he swallows hard, “tried before Queen’s Bench this morning.”

  Jonathan turns, outraged. “How can this be? I am his counsel!”

  The Lord Steward plods on. “He was tried before a jury by the newly appointed Attorney General Master Coke before Chief Justice Popham.” He looks at the floor. “I regret to say that Doctor Lopez was convicted, madam, and — ”

  “Oh, no!” cries Noah in dismay.

  “And executed at Tyburn by being hanged, drawn, and quartered. I am so sorry to inform Your Majesty of this.”

  The Queen, who stands near a four-foot precipice, is near collapse.

  “Look to the Queen!” shouts Burghley, who’s too far away to reach her in time. Noah bolts across the well, and positions himself to catch her should she fall.

  At the last moment, she rights herself, but her wan face suddenly looks weary, old, and terribly fragile. Without a word, she brings herself up to full height, turns, and departs through the door behind the arras.

  Lightning can be seen through the clerestory windows. The storm is still too far away to be heard.

  But it’s coming.

  Author’s Note

  A Second Daniel is a work of historical fiction, a sort of “what if” winter’s tale written for the reader’s amusement. A great deal of research went into it, but it should not be relied upon for scholarly purposes, other than to excite further inquiry.

  Although this afterword is written primarily to document the substantial modernization of English criminal procedure depicted in the story, lest the law student lend undue credence to the fictionalized account, [The author is suspected of having served as an adjunct professor of law at a New York law school for more than thirty years.], a few remarks on the rest of the story might be in order first.

  Except for the involvement of the fictitious barrister Noah Ames and his friends, the progress of the Doctor Roderigo Lopez case is fairly (if summarily) portrayed, as is the deficient investigation of Christopher Marlowe’s murder.

  In general, I’ve attempted to portray the historical figures and their activities in a manner consistent with facts generally known about them. The only person whose age has been changed substantially for storytelling purposes is Henry Savile, whom I’ve aged a generation so that he could serve as mentor and guardian to Noah Ames. The real Henry Savile was, as portrayed, preoccupied with writing a biography of Saint John Chrysostom. Savile ultimately became instrumental in the translation and preparation of the King James Version of the Bible, a feat for the ages.

  Within the bounds of what is known about people in the period, the story contains much conjecture. For example, although there were rumors of homosexual conduct about Marlowe and Francis Bacon, we know of nothing specifically linking Marlowe’s murder with any secret relationship the two may have had.

  For humorous reasons, I have unfairly portrayed Gelly Meyrick as porcine, and I’ve portrayed his manner of speech as more common than it probably was. Similarly, I scarred Skeres and made Robert Poley a drunkard because I thought it would make them more memorable. But those two were scoundrels, anyway.

  I have portrayed many historical figures as more tolerant of Jews than they almost certainly would have proven, had there been more than a tiny number of Jews in England to test their mettle. If I hadn’t done so, the events of the story could not possibly have occurred. I’ve probably portrayed other historical figures as being more virulently anti-Jewish than they were; for example, the Earl of Essex was probably anti-Jewish in about the same offhanded way as most Englishmen would have been at the time. As he was primarily responsible for the false accusation and prosecution of Doctor Lopez, however, I thought it fair to attribute to him the coarser type of Jew-hating portrayed in the novel. Concerning the Cecils’ regrettable involvement in the prosecution of Lopez, see below.

  The Queen did indeed have a Jewish grocer named Añes, but not Avram. [J. Shapiro, Shakespeare and the Jews 71 (1996)]. Many of the characters in the story are entirely fictitious, including all who are portrayed as being (or as having once been) Jews or of Jewish descent, except Roderigo Lopez. His change of religion and multifarious activities are faithfully (if incompletely) portrayed. Jonathan Hawking and all other barristers resident at Gray’s Inn are likewise fictitious, except for Anthony and Francis Bacon, whose activities are more or less accurately portrayed. Lord Bleffingham is fictitious, as well.

  Goodman Granger’s Trial

  The story deviates from Elizabethan legal practice in numerous ways, some important, some less so, depending upon one’s viewpoint. A criminal trial in Elizabethan England was a dismaying and terrifying affair for any accused, except perhaps for the most well-educated and well-spoken. The procedure in the trial of the fictitious Goodman Granger does not fairly resemble a real trial of the day.

  The reader may well ask why it was necessary to modernize something as esoteric as Elizabethan criminal procedure. Such liberties were necessary in order to fulfill important narrative requirements, mostly to ascribe sufficient fairness to the proceedings to leave room for Noah’s active participation and a plausible prospect of his success. As any lawyer who’s tried a case before a judge with a closed mind can tell you: if a trial is not a contest, it’s both futile and boring.

  In Elizabethan times, Goodman Granger would not have been entitled to the protections now customarily afforded the accused in order to secure that bedrock of modern Anglo-American jurisprudence, the presumption of innocence. To the contrary, it would have been incumbent upon Granger, by means of vocal objection, to put the prosecutor to his proof. In those days, many types of accused made a poor showing: the inarticulate, the bashful, the uneducated, the mentally handicapped, and the just plain bewildered, to name
a few.

  During Elizabethan times, an accused imprisoned prior to trial had no right to consult counsel on his own behalf, nor to participate in the preparation of his defense. While it might have been possible to compose a novel about a barrister practicing under such primitive conditions, such a hopeless setting would have provided little opportunity for a barrister’s heroism. For those wishing (or, at least, willing) to delve into a fictionalized account of the horrors of the legal system as it prevailed during the reign of Queen Elizabeth’s father, Henry the Eighth, I strongly recommend C.J. Sansom’s Matthew Shardlake novels. Sansom’s novels are uniformly engaging, but the justice system he depicts seems hopeless and dreary to modern sensibilities, enough so to make the modern lawyer thank his lucky stars that he or she need never practice under such conditions.

  The few extant accounts of procedure at ordinary criminal trials of the Elizabethan period make no mention of counsel. [1 J. Stephen, A History of the Criminal Law of England 349-50 (1883) (quoting at length T. Smith, Commonwealth of England (written 1565, printed 1584))]. It was rather “(i)n the more important cases (that) the examination of the prisoner would be conducted by counsel, where in less important cases it would usually consist of a debate between the prisoner and the prosecutor and the other witnesses, the judge of course interfering as he saw fit.” [1 id. at 350.]

  As every American law student knows, until the latter half of the twentieth century, the Government was not required to appoint counsel to represent an accused. Noah’s appointment by the Queen for that purpose some four hundred years earlier would have been a sharp and historic departure from common practice.

  A real Goodman Granger would likely have had no counsel with whom to confer. No Noah Ames. No Jonathan Hawking. Nobody. And if he had, it’s extremely unlikely he would have been permitted to consult with his counsel while testifying. That much is still true today.