Unicorn Rampant

by Nigel Tranter

John's hopes as to keenness were not misplaced. They had scarcely mounted the steps to the church-door when Elias Woolcombe came bustling forward to greet them, obviously relieved. He looked a little doubtfully at Alexander but, when John introduced him as Sir William Alexander of Menstrie, Master of Requests to His Majesty, he was suitably impressed.

  He led them, this time, through the crowd, not downstairs to the crypt but over to the same side-chapel where John had searched two days before. Again two men sat therein—but not the same two. One rose at their appearance, the other did not.

  "Here is Will Cockayne, High Sheriff of this city and Master of our Association," Woolcombe said. "And Luke Cardell, Deputy-Master. This is Master Methven, from Scotland. And another, Sir William . . . ? I did not get the rest, but Master of the King's Requests."

  The seated man, obviously Cockayne, nodded but said nothing. The other bowed, especially towards Alexander.

  "I am glad to see you, gentlemen," John said. "Sir William Alexander of Menstrie is also from Scotland. And knows of the matter of which we spoke."

  "Paper," the man Cockayne said briefly. He was a thickset, florid individual with a bull-neck and a mane of greying hair. "Elias Woolcombe says that you have a proposition to make?"

  "Scarcely a proposition, sir. I was sent but to make enquiries. To sound out possibilities."

  "He represents paper-making interests in Scotland," Woolcombe put in, much more eager-sounding than Cockayne. "Of which we did not know."

  "You mean to say that you did not know that we made paper in Scotland? Excellent paper?" Alexander remarked, politely incredulous.

  "No, sir. Not on any scale."

  "That is the point—how large is the scale? And what is the quality?" Cockayne demanded. "Sit down." He appeared to be a man of few words but incisive manner.

  "As to quantity, sufficient is made to supply our needs. We could make more. And more. And new mills are planned."

  "In the valley of the Esk," Alexander added, knowledgeably, having been primed on the way. "In Lothian."

  "And the quality?"

  John reached into the bag he carried and brought out a selection of sheets, which he tossed down in front of Cockayne casually enough. He said nothing.

  "Sufficient quality for the King's Grace," Alexander murmured.

  Clearly the others were impressed as they handled the papers, passing them one to another. They should have been, for it was the best in the royal archives-room.

  "These are excellent papers, all of them," the man Cardell said. "But perhaps too fine for most trade."

  "We make lesser qualities, to be sure."

  "How much?" Cockayne asked. "How do you sell this? This quality?"

  That was the crunch, of course. John had no idea. "I have nothing to do with the price," he declared, as authoritatively as he could. "That is for others to settle. To negotiate. My mission is to discover whether there is any demand for the papers. And, if so, what quantities would be required."

  "Before we can tell you that, sir, we have to know the price. Surely you must know what is your normal selling-price? In Scotland?"

  "Ah, but in Scotland we have the monopoly. That is something else I have to know. Would there be a monopoly here? It would much affect the price, you will agree."

  The three Englishmen looked at one another.

  "I take your point," Cockayne said, after a moment or two. "We certainly would not wish the paper to be sold on an open market. Let us say that I believe that a monopoly could be arranged."

  "Could be, sir? I will require to take back more than that!"

  "Will be, then, Scotchman—will be, if you prefer it!"

  "I do, yes. You seem very sure?"

  "I have reason to be."

  "You know to whom to go? To gain the royal authority?"

  "Shall we say, the Lord Treasurer's authority. Kings do not concern themselves with such matters. Eh, Sir William?"

  "Perhaps you are right, sir," Alexander nodded. "But I have heard that my Lord Suffolk is somewhat out-of-favour, and has retired to the West Country."

  "So I understand. He remains Treasurer, however. And John Bingley remains at the Treasury—which is what signifies."

  "Ah, yes—the Deputy-Treasurer. Lady Suffolk's friend!"

  "Precisely, sir. I think that your young friend here may rely on monopoly prices."

  "Good," John said. "Then I would think that our Scots prices will work out a deal less than what you are paying the Germans, sir. What is their present price? For quality paper?"

  Cockayne looked at Cardell.

  "About 120 shillings the packet of five reams, at today's price. It varies."

  "One hundred and twenty shillings sterling the packet? And it is sold on the open market at whatever it will fetch? If you gain a monopoly, what price would you think to charge?"

  "We would still have to compete with the German paper. And to outsell you they might lower their price somewhat. Unless, with a monopoly, we could have their imports prohibited. With a monopoly I would say that we would double that price of 120 shillings."

  The others nodded agreement.

  "Two hundred and forty shillings for five reams? Quality paper. Is doubling a usual oncharge in your English monopolies?"

  "It varies. Do you do better in Scotland?"

  "Likewise it varies with the commodity. We would expect some share in this oncharge."

  "That, like the price, would be for negotiation, Master Methven."

  "To be sure. Then it seems that this is as far as we can go, at this time. I must now consult with the others."

  "Master Methven," Cockayne put in carefully. "We must hope that, by consulting others, you mean your paper-making friends in Scotland—not any other interests here in England? If we are to do business on the best terms, then all this must be kept a close secret. If it leaked out, all could be put at risk. I am not prepared to chaffer and haggle with others. The Association can offer you the best terms, since we are the largest, with most members, all over the country."

  "I understand."

  "Will you leave these ensamples of paper with us? For us to consider, test and cost?"

  "Certainly. Perhaps you will set down the order of their value to you and probable demand, for our guidance? And I will collect it, say, two days hence?"

  "Very well. Two days . . ."

  There seemed to be no more to say, so they rose and took their leave, Woolcombe escorting them to the church-door.

  "That took less time than I had feared," John said, out in the churchyard. "Having Cockayne there in person probably helped."

  "A hard man to handle, that! Are you satisfied? Was it successful?"

  "Oh, yes—learned more than I had expected. I think that your presence was an advantage. They accepted me the more readily."

  "For a man who knows nothing about the paper-trade, I thought that you sounded most expert and confident! King James chose well, I swear!"

  "That was but mummery, play-acting, asking suitable questions. What was that of Lady Suffolk?"

  "Oh, the Countess has this lap-dog, the man Bingley. He does her bidding without question. Suffolk has made him Sub-Treasurer, and so Catherine Howard manages all at the Treasury. She has a better head for affairs than has her husband, all say."

  "This is interesting. Is it the Countess rather than the Earl, then, who contrives to cheat King James out of much of his revenues?"

  "It could be. Since it seems that this Bingley does the arranging. He is very much her creature. Thomas Howard tolerates him, no doubt finding him useful for filling his pockets ..."

  Back at the barge, they proceeded down-river. John had never been thus far and was interested in all that he saw— the great Tower of London, of ominous repute, which disappointed, looking nothing like the mighty rock fortresses of Edinburgh and Stirling, as he had visualised; the marshy reaches beyond, of Wapping and Rotherhithe— which Alexander called Redriff—flat and waterlogged; and then the great U-bend, made up of Greenw
ich and Blackwall Reaches, still in desperately flat country, with the river ever widening.

  When they landed, on the south shore now, John was further surprised when they passed the sprawling ancient palace which Henry the Eighth had renamed Placentia and came to a comparatively tiny house, some distance apart, handsomely built but a mere miniature, in fact with only three bedchambers although with rather fine reception-rooms. Anne had had this built for her a few years before by Inigo Jones, where she could get away from the ongoings in James's huge establishment. The Prince of Wales, who was of a fastidious and rather solitary nature, much at odds with his father's, also found this little retreat to his taste.

  His reception of John held no pretence at warmth or even interest. He was obviously regarded merely as a messenger being shown route and destination. Not that this concerned John in any way, who did not find Charles much to his taste either, actually preferring his odd sire. He was dismissed quite quickly, Alexander conducting him back to the barge and assuring him that the Prince was none so ill-natured once one got to know him. He was shy and self-conscious— in fact, he had never really got over early impediments in health and abilities; he had hardly spoken for the first six years of his life indeed.

  The barge would carry John back to Somerset House and would call for him again two forenoons hence.

  So he returned, to write up his findings for King James in detail, now much fuller and more circumstantial than he could have hoped for a few days earlier, covering several sheets of the good Scots paper. In this task Margaret Hamilton was less than helpful, coming to interrupt him frequently—and, he had to admit, not entirely un-welcomely. And she came to his room, of a night, without fail.

  The Queen seemed to have no other duties for him meantime than messenger to Greenwich. She was now evidently a very sick woman—no sham invalid. Even Margaret began to look concerned about her.

  Two days later John was back at St Paul's, where he found Woolcombe and Cardell awaiting him with evaluations of his paper samples and some other information which he could add to his dossier. So that, when presently he reached Greenwich again, it was to seek Sir William's advice on the next problem—how he could get to Theobalds Park to present his findings to the King? Alexander said that he would think about it.

  The day following, when that resourceful individual appeared at Somerset House, in turn, it was with a suggestion. It was clear that the Queen's deteriorating state should be brought to the King's notice, Charles reluctantly agreeing. He, Alexander, himself had contrived it so that he could not be away the at least two days necessary to reach Theobalds—so what more natural to put to Anne than that her own Gentleman should go? Would he ask the Queen?

  Anne, in low spirits, acceded—but asserted that James would not be interested even if she lay at death's door. John would start off next morning, with the physicians' report.

  9

  Theobalds Park, which King James had acquired from his late and long-suffering minister, Robert Cecil, first Earl of Salisbury, in exchange for Hatfield, had been coveted by the monarch not because of any architectural or other excellence but because it bordered on and indeed included part of, Enfield Chase, with a ten-mile wall around it to ensure that its deer remained exclusive. This was the finest hunting area within reasonable reach of London. Here James could indulge to his heart's content in his favourite occupation, and even with advancing years and deteriorating health he could still spend long days in the saddle, from the crack of dawn until dusk, before hard-drinking sessions and then bed. To this programme all at court had to adjust as best they could, the King insisting that he could rule two kingdoms from the back of a horse.

  John, arriving in mid-afternoon of a golden October day, discovered this. But his father, who was rather less keen on the chase, had excused himself that day, as so often he did, and to him John was able to unburden himself and to ask whether he could not, somehow, help him to get out of the Queen's service. He went to some lengths to describe the problems and restrictions of life at Somerset House—although he did not feel it incumbent upon him to go into the amenities supplied by Margaret Hamilton. He indicated that he would not object to visiting Somerset House from time to time, but found immurement there trying indeed.

  The Duke said that he would see what he could do.

  However, when his son gave him some summary of his investigations into the monopolies situation, Ludovick, much impressed, thought that the King would not require great persuasion to enroll John permanently in his own employ, as much more useful than most of his Household.

  John was not too happy about that either, especially the use of the word permanent. After all, his aim was to get back to Scotland and Methven.

  He had to wait until late for his interview with James. He could not, of course, approach the monarch personally; and, at the meal after the hunt got back, he noticed that James had his eye on him more than once in his lowly seat, but did not summon him. It was far into the evening, and his thoughts turning towards bedding down in his father's room, before the command came. Sir John Stewart was to attend in the royal bedchamber.

  He found James looking even more incongruous than usual, sitting up in bed, in a vast, shadowy room, in nightgown and bed-robe, but still wearing his high hat, beaker of wine in hand. Steenie was hanging about, looking sulky. But at John's appearance he was dismissed and bluntly told not to come back until sent for.

  "So, Johnnie Stewart, you're here," the King observed. "You weary o' my Annie's service, eh? Is that it?"

  "Not entirely, Sire," John answered carefully. "The Queen is very sick. That is why I could come to tell Your Majesty. She is grievously unwell."

  "Annie's aye unwell—or says she is! All her days that has been the way o' it."

  "This is true sickness, Sire. Constant vomiting. Much pain. Her Majesty's physicians are greatly troubled. They have sent a report..."

  "Aye, aye—that's no' new, either. Dinna tell me that's all you've come to tell me, man?"

  "No, Sire. But this was the reason for me getting away."

  "Excuse, you mean! Come on, laddie—out wi' it. You've been active, I hope? As I bade you. No' wasting your time on sickly women! What's in yon satchel you've got?"

  "Papers, Sire. Certain papers I have put together. As you commanded me." He laid his bag on the royal bed and drew out a sheaf of close-written sheets. He held them out to the monarch.

  One glance was enough for James. "You tell me, lad. My eyes are no' just what they were. And it's gey dark in here, mind."

  "There is much here, Highness. Too much just to recount ..."

  "I’ll say what's too much—no' you, boy! Gie me the meat o' it. What have you uncovered, eh?"

  John cleared his throat. "Majesty, the monopolies, I find, are rich and powerful and have all well in hand. Nor fear interference. They have parliament, both Lords and Commons, well sweetened, as they say—to vote in their favour. The great ones, Cockayne and his Merchant Venturers, and Mansell, have all the most profitable trade neatly parcelled out between them, with the East India Company coming third. Only the less profitable trades are left to the smaller men. But—they mislike and fear each other. That could be their weakness."

  "Go on, man. Maist o' this I ken already."

  "Yes, Sire. I learned that Lady Suffolk is perhaps more powerful in this matter than the Earl. You know of this man Bingley . . . ?"

  "Ooh, aye—we a' ken Jack Bingley. Kate Howard's play-marrow!"

  "More than plaything, Highness. As Treasurer-Depute he it is whom the monopolists work through. When I suggested a new monopoly, they assured that all could be arranged through this Bingley."

  "So-o-o! Bingley, eh? And Kate Howard. Mair fly than Tom! Tom Suffolk will no' soil his lily-white hands—but he'll tak the siller! Ooh, aye—he'll tak the siller. That should be mine!"

  "Yes, Sire. In these papers are lists of the monopolies. And, so far as I can find out, who holds them. The goods and trade. There must be a great many that I
have not discovered, but these are the main ones."

  "And the monies, man? The siller? How much? What did you discover there?"

  "Figures, Highness, are not bandied about. But I learned that, with such new monopoly as I suggested, they would double the price at which they bought. Double! I gathered that this was normal."

  "Double, eh? One hundred per centum. As much as that? That is a fair return, aye, fair."

  "I would name it robbery, Sire!"

  "Aye, maybe. But what you'd name it, Johnnie Stewart, isna just the vital issue! And what's this o' a new monopoly you speak of? What's this?"

  John trod more carefully than ever. "I had to have excuse for my enquiries, Sire. So that they would talk. At St Paul's, as Your Majesty suggested. I have little knowledge of trade and manufacture but you had taught me something about paper. So I used this knowledge."

  "Paper, eh? That was apt, man. Shrewd."

  Relieved, John went on. "It was Your Highness's own teaching—all I could speak of. I learned that here in England almost all paper is bought from the Hansa merchants in Germany and the Baltic coasts. At a price—for they have the monopoly. These London men knew nothing of Scots paper-making. So I made so bold as to suggest that they might buy cheaper from Scotland. Hinted at a new monopoly for them, in paper from Scotland. They jumped like salmon to fly! These Merchant Venturers—they wanted to know qualities, quantities, prices. I could not tell them, to be sure, not knowing—but I took them some of Your Majesty's own papers, and my father's from Whitehall, as ensamples. They were much impressed. So they told me much that I could not have learned otherwise. Did I do rightly, Sire?"

  "Aye, ooh, aye. Leastwise, maybe." It was James's turn to be careful. "A paper monopoly, eh? How much did they want?"

  "I know nothing of quantities nor price. You did not inform me as to that. I had to... dissemble. But I understood them to be eager for as much as the Scots mills could supply. If the price was right. They would then double the price for their own market. I declared that the Scots paper-makers would expect to be given some share in the doubling of price."