by Paul Walker
He replaces a portion of eggs and strokes his chin. ‘In other circumstances, there would be no fault or suspicion in those meetings, but the mention of Paris and the demeanour of Kelley at our first meeting is perhaps…’ He turns to John. ‘What is your opinion, Doctor Foxe?’
‘They may be innocents, but knowing the magnitude of this threat and, with little else to progress our enquiries, I believe we must act on these hints.’
‘Your advice may be sound, Doctor, but Kelley has strong patronage at court and we must not allow indignation at his arraignment to reveal our purpose to a wider understanding.’
‘Who are these patrons,’ I ask.
‘Warwick for one, although it is his wife, Anne Dudley, who has the keenest interest in astrology.’
‘Should we wait for Sir Francis to return for his advice?’ I wonder if my suggestion will prick Askham’s pride and encourage him to act.
Askham stands and paces the chamber. He returns to the table and plants himself squarely before us. ‘No, we must not wait. I will order both men detained and will send word when they are ready for questioning.’
*
Forester is outside his chamber when I arrive at court. He hands me a note with two names of those who would consult me. He clicks his tongue with impatience and peers over my shoulder indicating that I am not the subject of his anxiety. As I fold the note and make to pass him by, he turns and says that Francis Mylles would see me when it is convenient.
Mylles is another with an unsettled air. He is pacing his chamber as I enter and he does not offer a seat. He bids me good day and clasps his hands behind his back.
He says, ‘Doctor Huicke is at court today and I would have you seek him out and make yourself known. Her Majesty passed comment on him the last day. She was perturbed by his manner and I would have your opinion. Is he to be trusted, might he have passed intelligence from Her Majesty’s private chambers, or does his age overcome normal sensibilities?’
I nod dumbly with the thought that others will surely know this man better than I on a first encounter. Mylles shows none of the cheerful charm from our first meeting and it seems that our very short conference is finished.
I find Richard Joynes in the apartments and I am glad that he has a welcoming smile after my first two encounters here today. He introduces me to three of his associates and we talk of light matters for a half hour, then I ask Richard if he can identify Doctor Huicke for me. He is in the next room, deep in conversation with a group of men in the robes of scholars. I thank Richard and start to walk towards Huicke when a man steps sideways and blocks my path. It is the Earl of Oxford. I doff my cap, bow deeply and wait for what is to come.
‘Doctor William Constable, good day to you.’
‘My lord, thank you, I hope this day is kind to you also.’
He is a handsome man, smooth-faced, of medium height and clothed in splendid colours. His doublet is decked in gold, blues and reds with an extravagant silk ruff. He is joined by several men, spread behind and at each side.
‘I owe you an apology, Doctor Constable. I mistook you for another man these few days past; a man with prattling tongue who injured my family name. I confess that I cast an eye of displeasure at you and I trust that your sensibilities suffered no injury from my error.’
This is unexpected and a welcome relief. His language is too rich for my taste, and he sings his words in a way that is likely to please ladies. I can understand why a Puritan such as John Foxe would dislike his gaudy display and pretty words, but I must not hold this as a fault in him.
‘My lord, I thank you for your kindness, but I had taken no offence. On that day I was rapt in admiration of your fine garments and I am sorry if my stare was taken as insolence.’
He is pleased with my response. He takes me by the arm and asks that I should walk with him.
He says, ‘I hear you are a scholar of considerable reputation, Doctor Constable. Your knowledge of the stars arcs a dazzling array of philosophies from physik to mathematics.’
I murmur my thanks for his praise, wondering why he has taken the trouble to enquire into my history.
He continues, ‘I have a fascination with the heavens and how God shapes their movements to influence our lives. We must talk more on these matters when time allows.’
‘Indeed, my lord, I wait at your convenience.’
‘In which direction do you aim in your current work, Doctor?’
‘My lord I am charged with assisting Doctor Huicke in guarding the wellbeing of gentlemen and ladies at this court.’
‘You have no other current affairs or matters of business?’
‘No, my lord.’ Why does he ask? Is this merely a polite enquiry, or does he delve with some firmer purpose?
He stops, gazes at me for a moment, then turns his back and walks away with his followers in close attendance. Did I disappoint or offend in some way? I am mystified at this sudden ending to our conference. Doctor Huicke has moved and I do not see him. I check the names of those who would consult me and go in search of Richard hoping he will know these people.
*
My two patients both complained of loose bowels and cramps in their stomachs. I prescribed two mouthfuls of ground wood charcoal washed down with fresh cow’s milk. The first, a lady chamberer, accepted the remedy without question, but the second, a ward of the Earl of Sussex, insisted that he should be bled. In the end, I relented and let a little blood to satisfy him and clear the atmosphere in my chamber. I am pleased to have discovered two gentlewomen near Forester’s rooms who act for Huicke and his associates in the preparation of potions, medicines and salves. This will free some of my time and save on the to-and-fro between West Cheap and Whitehall.
I go in search of Richard Joynes again, as I am in need of a change of air. I see a man who I know.
‘Captain General Hawkins, it is a pleasure to meet with you here.’
‘Ah, William – William Constable, well met.’ He turns to the next man. ‘Humphrey, this is the gentleman scholar I talked of. He has a scheme for a mechanism that may aid our grand venture.’
I bow and am introduced to Sir Humphrey Gilbert, a partner in Hawkins’ adventures. His fame as soldier and sea adventurer is even greater than Hawkins and I comment on the bravery and daring of his exploits. He bobs his head modestly at my flattery. He is of similar appearance to Hawkins; middle height; well-muscled; weathered complexion; and with an expression that speaks of authority and firmness. He asks what brings me to court.
‘I have a temporary position as a physician assisting Doctor Huicke.’
Hawkins raises his eyebrows. ‘I trust that this duty is not so onerous as to deflect you from your studies of navigation.’
Gilbert adds, ‘You have a well-rounded scholarship to be proficient as both physician and mathematician, Doctor Constable.’
‘Thank you, Sir Humphrey, my primary concern is fixed on the navigation instrument and that outcome will not fail from my lack of attention.’
‘For our part, we are here to receive the promised license for our exploration and discovery from Her Majesty through the hands of Baron Burghley.’ Hawkins exchanges glances with Gilbert and continues, ‘We hope for a ten-year license, but will be content with seven.’
I say, ‘It would be an odd and contrary decision to deny license for such a splendid adventure.’
Hawkins grunts in agreement, then asks if I have made progress on the instrument. I reply that I have new sketches which I will use to make a model. Their interest is keen, so I provide an outline of the scheme.
‘I have designed a mechanism around a staff of four feet in length, and this must be used with the sun or moon at the rear. A shadow is cast by a vertical shaft and this shadow is aligned with the horizon by an eyepiece on a curved vane. The eyepiece slides along the vane which is graduated to measure the angle.’ My words are accompanied by movements of my hands, which I think will confuse, but both men seem to like my exposition. ‘It is a small improvem
ent and restricts measurements to angles of no more than forty-five degrees, but I am confident that further refinement will release this limitation.’
Hawkins claps me on the shoulder and declares that they look forward to sight of the model. They thank me and advise that their time for an audience with Burghley draws near. As they leave, I spot Richard to my left side and join him.
He says, ‘I know of Sir Humphrey Gilbert, but not his companion. They showed much interest in your discussions.’
‘He is Captain General Hawkins. I have met Captain Hawkins before through a friend of our family.’ I will say no more on this, as I do not wish my connection to Morton and his venture generally known.
‘Huicke waits in his chambers for you, William. I chanced upon him as he was leaving and mentioned your name. He is a strange man and not easy to engage in conversation.’
I thank Richard generously for his continued assistance and make my way to Huicke’s chambers, which are adjacent to Forester’s. There is a tall, stooped man standing in the centre of his chamber, who I recognise as Huicke. His hands are on his side, his elbows stick out and his bottom lip protrudes in an expression of belligerence. He is in bad humor, but it is too late to retire, so I approach and bow.
‘Doctor Huicke, good day to you. I am William Constable come to assist you in the absence of Doctor Lyle.’
‘He replies, ‘Fecund,’ without further elaboration.
‘I beg your pardon, Doctor.’
‘Fecund, fecund, fecund,’ he repeats and I am unsure whether he addresses me or an invisible companion.
‘Do you have a query about a lady’s fecundity?’
His eyes dart to mine as though I have just arrived. ‘Exactly, you reach the nub of the matter in quick time.’
‘Who is the lady in question?’
‘It is the Lady Sheffield.’
‘May I enquire why her fecundity is significant?’
He puffs air, shakes his head and spreads his hands as though I have asked a question of special idiocy. ‘Who are you?’ he demands.
‘I am Doctor William Constable. Your associate, Doctor Lyle, is away on family business and I…’
‘Lyle is a ruffian and indulges overmuch in modern fashions.’
‘You dislike his dress?’
He rolls his eyes. ‘His fashions for physik.’ He corrects me and I am at a loss to know how I should proceed with this conversation when he says, ‘William Constable; strange name that tinkles a bell in my memory. You are no relation to Sir Christopher Norris?’
‘No sir, I do not know the gentleman.’
‘Good, I disliked him fiercely. He died of the pox.’
‘You say there is a question of whether Lady Sheffield is fecund.’ This seems a safer topic of conversation.
‘Yes, yes, Stafford has sent a man from Paris to enquire into the lady’s intentions. He wishes to marry, but must be assured of heirs.’
I know little of Lady Sheffield other than she is the widow of Baron Sheffield. I am wary of putting innocent questions that will be met with derision, but I feel bound to continue this line of discussion.
‘Have you consulted the stars?’
‘Exactly; the stars. I have laboured to produce a fine chart which tells of the lady’s good spirit, obedience and robustness. Instead of admiration, the chart was met with indifference and the question of fecundity.’
‘The lady has issue from her first marriage?’
‘I believe there is a son and daughter.’
‘And she is of child-bearing years?’
‘Ah ha, she is comely and near her thirtieth year.’
‘Well then, it is a simple matter to annotate the text, “Believed Fecund” to the chart. It is not a deception to interpret the readings in a way that will please your client.’
His eyes widen, his mouth opens and he stares at me in disbelief. I fear I have offended.
‘Excellent, you unearth the solution with a display of brilliance and virtuosity. I am indebted to you, Doctor Norris.’
I forego the opportunity to correct my name and ask for his opinion on a curative so that I may know more of his practice as physician. After a half hour of confused talk with Huicke, I return to Francis Mylles to report on my meeting. His mood has improved and he welcomes me with a warm smile. I relate an outline of my meeting and offer my assessment that Huicke’s mind is not sufficiently sharp to intentionally pass private intelligence from Her Majesty’s apartments. Additionally, I suggest that his age has brought on certain unpredictable behaviours and that it would be a kindness to move him gently from his position to one less heightened in importance. I take care not to be over critical of a man who has achieved much in a long and useful life.
Mylles says that he is not surprised by my conclusions and that he will ponder what action should be taken.
I say, ‘There is another matter you should know.’ He raises his head with renewed interest. ‘I met with Mistress Parry and she made mention of a conversation overheard by one of the chamber ladies.’
‘Blanche Parry – you have done well in making yourself known, William. What was the subject of the conversation and who were the contributors?’
I start with the caution that it was an ill-judged, but probably innocent, jest about a royal bastard and provide the names of the two men. He writes the names, finishes with a flourish, throws down his quill and sits back in his seat.
‘Thank you, William, it will give me pleasure to investigate this offence further.’
I shiver at his mention of the word ‘pleasure’ in this regard and feel sympathy for the poor unfortunates who will regret an ill-advised moment of youthful high spirits.
Fourteen
Three days have passed since Askham departed this house to detain Kelly and Millen. He called yesterday to inform John and me of his unsuccessful searches. Kelley was not at his lodgings near Aldgate and enquiries at inns and other places of congregation yielded no sightings of either man. Askham has set men at the quays and gates, but fears that we may be too late and that they have quit the city. John’s opinion was that their absence deepens our suspicions, but Kelley may simply have business in another town. I further cautioned that we did not know that Millen was in London some days ago, so there may be nothing sinister in his non-appearance. Whatever the cause, we three were vexed in our different ways. John was quiet and brooding, Askham could not be still, either seated or standing and I had difficulty concentrating on my work for the remainder of that day.
This morning, I have finished my finer drawings for the instrument and have asked Hicks to meet in my library.
‘Good morning to you, Hicks. Is the matter of our land in Kent settled?’
‘Yes, Master William. The lease is signed and the widow housed to her satisfaction.’
‘Very good. Do we have full accounting for our wool traded in Amsterdam?’
‘The finances are almost settled and the bankers haggle over their commissions. Our price was fair, but below our good fortune the last year.’
I am reminded again how blessed we are to have Hicks handle our business.
‘I would have your advice on a matter of craftsmanship.’ I push my drawings across the table towards him. ‘I have in mind this new instrument to aid the navigation of ships. It is fashioned from wood and metal, requiring great accuracy in its manufacture. Do you know of a man with good hands and careful temperament who might be able to deliver this?’
He scans the drawing briefly, then peers more closely at the detail. He looks up and says, ‘It will be a task of some delicacy. There is a man in Spytalfields who is said to do good work for clockmakers. I will be happy to take this paper to him for an honest opinion.’
‘I would be grateful, Hicks. Please enquire on the days needed to complete the instrument. It may be required with some urgency.’
‘I will, Master William, but he will ask for fair coin, no doubt.’
‘Thank you, Hicks. I trust your fairness and good dea
ling in all matters of coin and business.’
It would be unfair to keep the wider purpose of the instrument from Hicks and so I offer a brief outline of Morton’s great adventure. His eyes widen at the scale of the scheme and shakes his head in wonderment at the mention of capturing Spanish gold. He expresses his pleasure at my involvement and says that my father would be proud and overjoyed. Hicks open the door to exit as Rose rushes in. There is excitement on her face and she is breathless.
‘Please sir… your mother… the lady Amy… has shat, sir.’
I bound up the stairs to Mother’s chamber. The door is open and she is propped up in her bed with book in hand. I am quick to the bedside to kiss her forehead.
‘Please, William, it is unseemly to be so enraptured by a lady’s movements. You wish to examine my stools?’
I pick up the pot by her bed. The stools are dark and solid, but there are many. It is promising.
‘I will examine these in more detail later, Mother. You must forgive my delight at your movement, but I despaired it would never come. You have more colour and light in your eyes. Are you improved a little?’
‘Indeed, a sharp ache in my middle remains, but I am more alert. I confess that the movement was agony for a while, but I feel a good measure of relief now it is passed.’
‘I wonder if it was the plums or the rhubarb and ginger that worked an improvement.’
‘The plums.’ She is quite definite in her assessment. ‘I have acquired a taste for them and intend to continue their use. You will pass on my thanks to Mistress Rosamund, the lady Helen and seek a regular supply?’
‘Of course, Mother.’ I hesitate. ‘Perhaps we should wait for a greater improvement before attributing a cure.’
‘You are too careful, William. I should have thought you would be glad of an excuse to meet with Helen Morton again.’
The small mischief in her eyes gives more certainty that she recovers her spirits well. I go to John’s chamber and bring him the good news about Mother. He is genuinely pleased and expresses the hope that she will soon be well enough to join with conversation in the parlour. He persuades me to stay and give my opinion on the writings he is undertaking. His subject is Calvin and his approach to Protestantism. My attention wanders after an hour of scrupulous and pedantic argument on the finer points of religious observance. I am reprieved when there is a knock at the door and Mistress Hilliard enters with a note. It is from Jane Dee. It is short, but I read three or four times to understand the content.
