[Master Mercurius 02] - Untrue Till Death

by Graham Brack

  ‘This is splendid,’ enthused the Rector. ‘Logical, yet utterly opaque.’

  ‘Thank you, Rector.’ I bowed humbly again, and once again received a door handle up my arse for my pains, though in this case it was due to Van Looy abruptly opening the door.

  ‘You asked me to remind you of your meeting with the Mayor, Rector,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you. But surely it is nowhere near midday yet.’

  ‘It is not quite eleven o’clock, Rector.’

  The Rector thanked and dismissed him. ‘Why on earth tell me an hour early that I have an appointment? It makes no sense,’ he grumbled.

  It does if all you wanted was an excuse to come in and eavesdrop, I thought, but said nothing.

  Thus it was that two days later I found myself boarding a barge that would take me to The Hague for an audience with the Stadhouder. I am bound to confess that I was rather excited. The Stadhouder is not exactly a king, though nobody had told William that. The office is bestowed on someone by each province, usually for life, but we had just concluded a long period without a Stadhouder. William’s father had died when he was very young, so he had not succeeded to the title. The country passed into a sort of regency, but with time, power became concentrated in the hands of two brothers named De Witt. As I mentioned earlier, one day the mob turned on them, and they were lynched and their bodies treated abominably. I met a man once who claimed that he had Johan de Witt’s penis. It presumably was some compensation for not having one of his own. I have met men who kept the skulls of animals displayed on their walls as trophies, which, I suppose, might testify to their bravery in the face of such creatures. I could not imagine what having a politician’s penis on your mantelpiece might speak to.

  Anyway, it is likely that William and his cronies incited the mob to act, because the outcome was that William found himself installed as Stadhouder, whereupon he ensured that the leaders of the mob received the most derisory of punishments.

  I may as well say at this point that William’s mother was the sister of the English king, Charles II, and William had spent some time in England where the king reputedly found him serious, pious and patriotic, and generally such dull company that he declared war on us. However, this little family tiff seemed to have been put behind us, and Charles had been at pains to point out that the argument was really with the De Witts and that he had liked his nephew all along. William, for his part, was too polite (and too clever) to call his uncle a bare-faced liar.

  When the barge drew up alongside the quay in The Hague, a troop of soldiers immediately approached to ask us our business. I had not been to The Hague for a couple of years, but I was struck by the fact that there seemed to be soldiers everywhere.

  ‘I have been asked to appear before the Stadhouder,’ I declared, and displayed the letter given to me by the Rector, sealed with the seal of the university. I suppose one seal looks much like another to a near-illiterate, so the soldiers merely nodded me through and two were deputed to lead me to the Stadhouder’s quarters.

  At the doorway to the Oude Hof, I was handed into the care of two other soldiers who insisted on inspecting my satchel for weapons. Albrecht had given me a pie for dinner which caused them some concern.

  The older soldier hefted the pie between his hands. ‘Feel the weight of that!’ he said. ‘You could kill someone throwing that crust at them.’

  ‘I’m more worried about the filling,’ I replied. ‘Goodness knows what Albrecht has put in it.’

  ‘Maybe we should keep it here,’ said the sentry. ‘You can collect it when you leave.’

  ‘You won’t eat it?’ I asked, more in hope than fear.

  ‘My teeth wouldn’t cope,’ he grumbled.

  They ushered me through and told me to report to two more soldiers at the top of the staircase, who opened the grand door and announced me. If I thought that was all there was to it, I was swiftly disabused by another pair of soldiers inside the door who marched me to the far end of the room, where the Stadhouder was talking animatedly with a couple of officials.

  He turned to greet me. ‘Master Mercurius! Thank you for coming to The Hague. Did you have a pleasant journey?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ I replied. These people never want to hear the truth anyway.

  ‘Would you like a cup of water?’ he asked solicitously.

  I had heard that he was a brave man, but I had never realised that he was sufficiently reckless to drink water. No wonder he was a martyr to piles. (There are some who attribute that affliction to certain practices, which I will not name here, involving young men of his court. I am bound to say that I saw no evidence of such predilections. If anything, the Stadhouder seemed to be indifferent to fleshly pleasures of any kind. However, I believe him to have been genuinely fond of his wife and cousin, Mary, and he was melancholic when she died at a young age.)

  The Stadhouder was slightly built and rather short. He made up for this lack of physical presence by wearing a large black breastplate and strutting around armed to the teeth. He had a high hairline and a long, rather hooked nose. I know his portraits show such a nose but, believe me, the artists toned it down. It was much more misshapen than most artists were prepared to depict.

  There was a brass bowl containing herbs sitting over an unlit brazier. I learned later that William suffered badly from asthma, and therefore such a bowl was always nearby so that the herbs could be warmed quickly in the event of an attack and he could then inhale the vapours to gain some relief. I surreptitiously sniffed the contents once, and on balance I think I would rather have taken my chances with the asthma.

  I declined the water, and offered him a scroll on which I had laboriously copied the mathematical explanation described by Master Hubertus. The Stadhouder accepted it without breaking the seal.

  ‘I think it best if we continue this discussion in my private chamber, Mercurius. Come with me. No, Pieters, you are not required at present.’

  This last remark was addressed to his secretary, a man who appeared to have been chosen because his physique made his master look like a giant. If he had not possessed a sparse brown beard, he might have passed for a boy of ten.

  We adjourned to the inner room where, to my great surprise, William dropped the scroll on his desk and completely ignored it thereafter. ‘Remind me to break the seal on that before you leave, Mercurius.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Stadhouder. I thought you wanted…’

  ‘I wanted you, not that. It was merely a subterfuge to get you here without having to tell anyone why. Oh, I genuinely have an interest in the management of our universities, and I fully intend to read this at some time, but not now. We have more important matters at hand. Do sit.’

  I waited respectfully until the Stadhouder had taken his own seat, then descended as gracefully as I could into the chair offered. I doubt I had ever sat in anything as luxurious in my entire life. It was covered in crimson silk embroidered with small gold lions, each lion having a little blue tongue. I have never seen a live lion, but I doubt that the blue tongue is an accurate representation.

  The Stadhouder was speaking energetically. ‘I need a trusted man to undertake a difficult task. The Rector suggested that you were the best he could offer, and told me about an incident in Delft that you managed very well.’

  ‘Not everybody thinks so, mijnheer. Some people regret that the perpetrator was not hanged.’

  William nibbled at an apple and waved his hand airily. ‘You can never please everyone. I above all people know that. You found out why the girls were being taken, recovered two of them and restored the public peace. To my mind, that’s a job well done. And it’s exactly the kind of job I want you to do again.’

  ‘Find missing girls?’

  ‘No, Mercurius, restore the public peace. You will be aware that my coming to power roughly coincided with a popular uprising against the De Witt brothers.’

  For “roughly coincided with”, you could read “was a direct result of”.

  ‘T
he De Witt faction may lack its heads,’ said William, who might, perhaps, have chosen his words more carefully, ‘but it still exists. I am not blind to the fact that there are people who would be very happy to see me treated the same way as the De Witts.’

  I judged that any protestations on my part would be misplaced. I had nothing against William — in fact, I might well have favoured him over the De Witts — but what he was saying was undoubtedly true. The breastplate was not just an item of fashion in his case.

  ‘To that end,’ he continued, ‘I maintain a little army of informants around the country who do their best to ensure that I know what is going on.’

  I could not resist. ‘Even in Leiden?’

  ‘Especially in Leiden. Education is a wonderful thing, but it sometimes encourages people to think on matters which are unsettling for them. It makes them unhappy and restless. I have a deep care for our universities, but they are the likeliest places for rebellion to fester, Mercurius.’

  There was something in what he said. If you are working every hour to feed your family, you tend not to spend a lot of time plotting. But if your whole professional life is concerned with arguments and disputation, as mine is, then plotting could be second nature.

  ‘Do you know a man called Gijsbert Voet?’ asked William.

  ‘Of course,’ I said. How could I not? Voet, or Gisbertus Voetius, to give him his Latinized version, was a household name. Or, at least, he was in households where they talked a lot of religion and philosophy.

  ‘Voet’s family have long been loyal supporters of my family. His grandfather was imprisoned for backing my great-grandfather and died there without betraying us. His mother’s family lost everything they owned in following us. I have absolutely no doubt about his loyalty. As you’ll know, he is a professor in Utrecht and keeps me informed about matters there.’

  Voet was a militant Calvinist who liked a good argument. Whereas some ministers had difficulty reconciling God’s forgiving nature with His omniscience — strict Calvinist teaching held that if He knows everything, He knows whether you are damned or saved from the moment you are conceived, and nothing you can do can change that — Voet unflinchingly told us that in any clash between divine powers and human free will, there was only one winner, and that the only reason there was any debate about it was that some of his colleagues were flabby thinkers. The problem was that he insisted on telling people that to their faces. As a result, he was forced out of Leiden and eventually made his way to Utrecht, where he divided his time between lecturing and preaching in the Dom, Utrecht’s cathedral.

  ‘But surely Master Voet is a great age now?’ I ventured.

  ‘Past eighty, certainly,’ said William. ‘And that is part of the problem.’ He selected another apple and offered me the bowl. It looked like this was going to be a longer audience than I had expected if I needed sustenance at this stage. ‘It appears that just before Christmas, Voet collapsed in the pulpit of the Dom. It had only just been returned to us when the French invaders withdrew, and he was determined to preach there again at the first opportunity. Anyway, I hear he has not preached since, though he claims he has made a complete recovery. What I need to know, Mercurius, is whether he really has regained his full powers. If he hasn’t, I need to find another loyal person to be my agent in Utrecht. Inevitably that will have to happen soon, but he could select his own successor.’

  I found myself liking this assignment less and less with each sentence.

  ‘The other thing that troubles me is that Voet’s allegiance is well known. If I were plotting against me, the last thing I would do is go anywhere near Voet. So it may be that when he says the province is solidly loyal to me, he doesn’t really know.’

  ‘But surely you were only installed as Stadhouder there a couple of months ago?’

  He waved his hand testily. ‘That proves nothing except that a few important men thought they could force that through, whatever the opposition. I would go to Utrecht myself and face my enemies down, but I have pressing duties here. That’s why I sent for you.’

  If my heart could sink further than it already had, that was the moment.

  ‘All you have to do —’ Isn’t it strange that as soon as you hear that phrase, you know what follows is well-nigh impossible? ‘— is go to Utrecht. Your cover is that I’m very happy with the work you’ve done in reorganising the salaries at Leiden, and now I want you to do the same for the university in Utrecht. Report to me on Voet’s health, and if you find him hale and strong, by all means work with him to select a lieutenant who can take over from him. He won’t like it, but I’ll give you a letter saying it’s my will and that there’s no question of replacing him while he is well, but we must prepare for the inevitable.’ He reached behind him and plucked a document from his desk.

  ‘Forgive me, Stadhouder,’ I stammered, ‘but isn’t this my report to you?’

  ‘What? Oh, yes. One moment.’ He rummaged through the papers and finally produced a pouch. ‘Letters for Voet, for the university, the mayor and anyone else I could think of. Pieters thinks it’s all about the salaries. Only the one addressed in my own hand to Voet tells him the real reason for your visit.’

  It was as well he told me it was addressed to Voet, because I would never have deciphered his handwriting. I just hoped an old man with fading eyesight would be able to read the contents.

  ‘If you find him failing, you have my commission to find someone else. Use your initiative. And I want an honest account of the loyalty of the public too. No gilding of the lily, Mercurius! I’m a plain man and I like plain talking.’

  I felt like doing a bit of plain talking myself, in which the words “shove” and “backside” might have featured, but it would have put the Rector in a difficult position.

  William handed me a small bag. ‘Money for your expenses. Keep anything that’s left at the end. Any questions?’

  I decided that there were none. It seemed best. Instead, I took my leave and made for the door. Since I was in an unfamiliar place I didn’t attempt to reverse out of the room, and William didn’t seem to expect it, but just as I reached the doorway, he spoke one last time. ‘Oh, Mercurius, just remember that Voet has a reputation for prickliness. Try not to antagonise him. I’m relying on you to be tactful.’

  I could picture my dear mother falling off her stool with laughter at any suggestion that I might have to be tactful. I nodded my understanding of the request, closed the door, and marched off to find the nearest inn where nobody knew me and I could get outrageously drunk.

  CHAPTER THREE

  My resolve failed me. A habit of sobriety is difficult to shake off, even under the pressure of the kind of diplomatic mission to which I was supremely ill-suited, so I just had a couple of beakers of ale and picked at the calf’s liver I was served for meat.

  It was a sombre journey back along the canal that evening, and I was in a dark mood as I arrived at the hall just in time to see Albrecht removing the last of the dinner plates. I was weighing up whether this was a blessing or not when I spied Mechtild swiftly laying a place in a corner.

  ‘Bless you, Master, we thought you wouldn’t be back in time for supper,’ she said.

  I am sure I heard Albrecht mutter “He isn’t”, but he seemed to unaccountably knock his shin on something as he passed Mechtild.

  ‘The best is gone,’ she added, ‘but you’ll take some bread and a piece of the roast, I hope?’

  It was quite difficult to identify what particular species of animal had been subjected to the fiery furnace of Albrecht’s oven, but I think it might have been mutton. Anyway, it was very welcome, especially when Mechtild produced some fresh bread, a jug of her beer and a fine pear to round it all off.

  A miserable day was capped off when I looked up from my plate in response to a shadow falling over my food to discover Van Looy standing over me. If you had set his remaining hair alight, he would have made a passable lighthouse.

  ‘The Rector saw that you had returne
d, Mercurius, and hopes that you will find it convenient to report to him soon. Shall we say ten minutes?’

  ‘Shall we say when Hell freezes over?’ was what I wanted to reply, but I just nodded meekly.

  The Rector was sitting reading by his fireplace when I arrived. ‘Mercurius! Come in and sit down. A glass of wine, perhaps?’

  There was no uncertainty about it. I accepted with alacrity.

  ‘Did it go well?’

  ‘Very well, thank you, Rector. In fact, the Stadhouder has asked if I might be permitted to travel to Utrecht to repeat the exercise at the university there.’

  Given that I had no idea who was watching whom, nor who was under suspicion, and that I had been strictly charged to keep my task confidential, I did not mention my real motive for going to Utrecht.

  ‘I know,’ said the Rector. ‘He wrote to me. The postboy was quicker than you were, though I suppose he had a horse. Well, it redounds to the credit of this university that you have been selected for this duty, so well done, young man!’

  He raised his goblet in a toast, which I acknowledged. I had no idea where the Rector got his wine, but it plainly was not the same stuff we quaffed downstairs. This was like liquid silk, whereas the wine served at the hall dinners was more like fruit juice mixed with vinegar.

  ‘When do you propose to leave?’ he asked.

  ‘The Stadhouder is keen to have the matter concluded quickly,’ I began, ‘so perhaps I should go first thing on Monday.’

  ‘Do you have any duties that I must give to some other lecturer?’

  This was always a tricky one. The work of a lecturer is not, on the face of it, especially arduous, but if I told the truth it might cause someone to wonder what we were paid for. Someone like Van Looy, for instance. Whatever I thought of him, it could hardly be denied that he put the hours in. Whatever hour it was when I came to the Academy building, he always seemed to be around.

  ‘I have a lecture to give tomorrow, Rector, then I must mark some assignments on Saturday. I can leave them with Van Looy for the students to collect, if you will permit.’