'That… that insufferable youth! That insolent catamite! Great God-can this be true?"
"I fear it is. For I lent Dewsbury money only two days ago. For the payment."
"Infamous! Shameful! Hetty-do you hear? How I am misused, mocked! By that puppy! Oh, it is beyond all bearing. Carr's minions in my household! How long has this been going on?"
"I do not know, Madam. I heard only two days ago. Have you made many new appointments?"
"I do not make them, sir! I have scarce any say in the matter. It is James who appoints. Sweet Jesu-he who humiliates me, at every turn! But yes-there have been new appointments of late. Are they all… Carr's?" "Who knows? Perhaps not…"
'They shall all be dismissed! Every one! I will not be served by creatures of that depraved boy! And this Dewsbury shall never start. I will teach them!" 'Your Majesty's wrath is just and understandable," Heriot observed. "But see you-that might not be the wisest course. After all, the fault lies not with these, so much. The men so appointed. They may be honest enough, in their way. They may even love and desire to serve you well-sufficiently so to pay hundreds of pounds for the privilege! Although I doubt the worth and results of such a system. The fault lies elsewhere…" "The greatest fault lies with James!" "H'm. If His Majesty knows."
"You did not go to him? First? To tell him. You came to me. Why?"
Heriot chose his words carefully. "Before I spoke with His Majesty, I believed that you should hear of it. In case there was aught I did not know. In which the King might be… concerned."
"You mean…? You do not suggest, sir, that James might himself be in this, this wickedness? Dear Christ-that the money goes to him? Or part of it? "
That was exactly what the man did mean. But he could not admit to it. "Scarce that, Madam. But… His Majesty, I have learned, knows more of what goes on, in things great and small, than might be expected. It could be that he is aware of this of Carr-since there have been rumours-and has some purpose in permitting it meantime. I wished to discover this from Your Majesty."
"How should I know? James tells me nothing. You are his man-of-business, are you not? Have you been aware of him gaining large moneys, knowing not whence they came?"
"No. But I might never hear of it. I am not His Majesty's treasurer or purse-bearer. And I have not spoken with him these three weeks."
They discussed the subject for some time, the Queen outraged, seeing the hands of all against her, Heriot seeking now to limit his involvement, to soothe and parry. He even made a plea on behalf of Sir Asher Dewsbury, indicating that as Almoner he should be watched, in the distribution of the Queen's charities but pointing out ruefully that, if the man was actually refused the appointment now, after paying for it, he, Heriot, might never get his loan back When he deemed the moment ripe, even more carefully the visitor introduced his second subject. "I have this other matter, Madam, on which to seek your good offices. The same sorry matter on which we disagreed heretofore." "Ha!" the Queen said, stiffening.
"I am, I hope, a wiser man now that I was then," he went on, placatingly. "I have learned much of the constraint and difficulties under which Your Majesty laboured at that time-and could by no means tell me. In, h'm, the matter of the Earl of Orkney." Anne sat up straight, eyes widened, wary-but did not speak.
"I regret my… intransigence then," he went on. "Not understanding Your Highness's difficult position. With regard to the King, and his cousin Orkney. Now, I know better, seek your royal pardon, and make bold to suggest how an unfortunate situation could be improved."
"The Letters, sir? You mean that you know how we might gain those evil Letters?"
"Not that, Madam, I fear. I do not know just where these Casket Letters may be now-although I think that my lord of Orkney no longer has them, and may have given them to the Master of Gray."
"Which is worse, I say-for he is the cleverer man! That I knew, anyway."
"Not necessarily worse, Majesty, I think. The Master is cleverer, yes-but has scruples which the other has not. But that is not what I would speak of. It is rather the consequences of that trouble. The case of Mistress Hartside." "That creature of Orkney's. She deserved all that she got, sir!"
"Perhaps. Though I still believe her innocent of intent against Your Majesty, and used by others. But whatever the rights of it, the present situation is not good. Your Highness has always been held in love and esteem by the folk of Scotland. But your credit and fan name is being impaired by the holding of this unfortunate woman without trial for so long."
"How can bring her to trial, without all that evil business of Orkney and the Letters and the blackmail being brought to light? Before all?" Anne cried. "You must know very well my difficulty. That is why I sent her away, to Scotland. Where I have my own jurisdiction of Dunfermline."
"I know it, yes, and understand. But I believe that now the girl can be brought to trial, and safely. The Earl of Orkney will no longer have reason to try to use her…"
"But she will still deny all. Hartside will. And so it will all come out"
"Not necessarily, Madam. That would depend on what was the accusation. If you, or the Crown, accuses her of theft, of stealing those jewels, then to be sure she will deny it. But if a lesser charge is brought it might be otherwise. She might well be brought not to deny such. Or only make token resistance. So that the court appearance is only brief and formal, and no unhappy disclosures necessary."
"How could I make so small a charge? When Hartside has been kept under ward all this time? Would not I seem harsh? My credit suffer as badly, sir?"
"The charge would have to be carefully considered. I am no lawyer, but I believe it could be arranged. Suppose the charge was not stealing but misappropriation-a lesser offence. Or depositing jewels in her care with the Queen's jeweller-myself-without your royal permission? With no intent to defraud. Might that not serve?" "Would she admit to that?"
"She might well. With… guidance! She could admit that the jewels were in her care. That she brought them to me. And I would testify that I restored them to Your Majesty."
"And the money you paid her? What of that? She took it Was that not stealing? "
"Not, perhaps, if she intended to devote it to some good purpose in Your Majesty's service. In fact, she wanted it to give to her husband, so that they might settle in Orkney. You also, in fact, gave these jewels to the Earl of Orkney, and he gave some to his gentleman, Buchanan, Hartside's husband. So, it would be near enough the truth to say that she intended to give the money to one of the Earl's gentlemen, on your royal behalf, for services rendered to Your Highness."
Anne clutched her head. "This is too deep for me, Master Geordie! Too complicated. You spin a veritable spider's web" "Only that I may lift Your Majesty off the horns of this dilemma. And restore this young woman to her liberty, at minimum cost to all. A trial there must be, now. And a verdict which is not a mockery. But… no disclosures of the true cause. Can you think of better?"
"No. No, I cannot. You say that there must be a verdict. What would this verdict be?"
"It would be guilty, to preserve Your Majesty's credit But guilty of what would not too greatly hurt Margaret Hartside. With able counsel-such as Master Thomas Hope whom I have already retained, and discreet judges, the penalty would be no more than perhaps the repayment of the price of the jewels taken. With, say, perpetual banishment from Your Majesty's Court-to Orkney!" "Ha! But-would she, could she pay?"
"I would pay, Highness. In her name. It is little enough price to clear up so grievous a matter. A few hundred pounds Sterling."
"I see. You are exceeding noble in all this, Geordie Heriot! Why, I wonder?" "For my love for Your Majesty. And the King. That is all…"
"Aye-and your care for one, Mistress Alison Primrose! That she might be invited back to my Court and household, I think!" the Queen said shrewdly. "I am not a fool, my friend!"
A little put out-for it was near enough the mark; and a large part of the man's manoeuvring had been to ensure that Alison would not have to be implic
ated in the trial or called as witness, and so seem to oppose the Queen's interests-Heriot shook his head, perhaps too positively. "No, Madam-not that. Alison and I are to wed-as you will know. But it is the wish of neither of us that she should have any appointment at Court. Only, that as the wife of Your Majesty's jeweller, she should not be forever denied to come into your royal presence."
"I see. Very well, Master Geordie-that I might permit. If you can so arrange all this complicate matter, then you have my agreement to it. And, indeed, my thanks. When will it be done, think you?"
"It will all take some time to effect, I fear. Many letters to Scotland. Possibly a visit there again. And lawyers work but slowly. But, by the late spring, no doubt…"
Reasonably satisfied, George Heriot took his leave thereafter- and with the royal assurance that he was now, once again, welcome at Denmark House, on both professional and personal business, or no business at all. "With this last, especially, he was genuinely pleased.
His satisfaction, however, went for the moment into suspension when he got back to the Royal Exchange to find that during his absence no less a visitor than the monarch himself had called- and sounded not a little put out at finding his so-honoured tradesman from home. He had left commands with Heriot's foreman goldsmith that his master was to report at Whitehall Palace forthwith. Such summonses were by no means always productive of joy.
***
But at Whitehall, the urgency was not so apparent James was actually at table when Heriot arrived, not so much at a meal as at what might be described as an intellectual drinking exercise. It was held in the same gallery as that in which the judicial bewitchment-enquiry had taken place, but now the long table was littered with bottles and flagons instead of documents-although there were one or two dishes of cold meats and the like for those who felt that they required solids with their wine. And the company was very different, legal luminaries and litigants being equally and conspicuously absent Only courtiers were present, reinforced with a few selected divines of the rubicund and genial English sort, and no women. James, at the head of the table, was in full flood-although his preoccupation with the expounding and elaboration of his syllogisms and propositions did not prevent him from stroking, fondling and occasionally turning to kiss the gorgeous youth who sprawled at his side. He perceived Heriot's entrance, even so, and waved him to a chair near the foot of the table without pausing in his peroration.
The newcomer found himself seated between the former favourite, the Earl of Southampton, Knight of the Garter, and Sir Andrew Kerr of Ferniehirst, elder brother of the young man at the head of the table. Kerr, a cheerful if unscupulous extrovert, greeted him with a grin, and pushed a flagon and beaker towards him. Southampton was asleep and snoring gently. Directly across the table, while seeming to pay rapt attention to their liege lord's lengthy abstractions, two clients of Heriot's own, the Earl of Rutland and the Viscount Doncaster, were playing cards with miniatures behind an elaborate screen of feathered hats and bottles. From further up the table the Duke of Lennox drooped an eyelid at his friend and yawned carefully behind a hand.
The King was partial to these debating and syllogism sessions, in which he could display his learning and agility of mind. They were less popular with his courtiers-but very good excuses had to be tendered for non-attendance. The churchmen were there to provide the necessary vocal reactions-since the Court gentlemen, save for a few Scots, were almost without exception out of their depth from the first proposition. Also the divines were able sometimes to applaud the frequent Latin comments or aphorisms that fell from the salivating royal lips.
The present monologue-since it was that rather than any debate, at the moment-appeared to be concerned with the nature and identity of the language spoken in the Garden of Eden, James declaiming with an authority rivalled only by its lack of clarity. It seemed that his illustrious great-grandfather, James the Fourth of hallowed memory, had had similar conjectures, and for experiment had deposited two new-born infants, with a deaf-and-dumb wet-nurse, plus a large supply of food and drink, on the otherwise uninhabited islet of Inchkeith in the Firth of Forth, in the confident expectation that they would grow up, uncontaminated by the rest of the world, to speak the basic language of all humanity -which inevitably would be that of Adam and Eve, and therefore of Heaven itself. Unfortunately the second winter later prolonged gales prevented food being landed for the experiment for a couple of awkward months, and an excellent piece of research was spoiled through the death of all concerned. James, it transpired, had frequently thought of making a scientific investigation of his own, on similar lines-and might well do so yet. But meantime, his confident contention was that Gaelic was undoubtedly the language of Eden, and Heaven itself.
This averment aroused not a little doubt around the table, even from some who had appeared to be elsewhere in spirit. Nobody actually was so unwise as to challenge the statement, of course, at this early stage; but not a few eyebrows rose.
James nodded happily-and proceeded to prove his point. The Gaels of Scotland had migrated over long centuries to their present home in the north-west extremity of Europe, via the Mediterranean lands, and Spain, France and Ireland, leaving the names of Galicia, in Spain and Gaul, for France, behind them in the process. But they had first come from the very cradle of mankind, in Asia Minor. The Garden of Eden was known to have been sited, not in the Holy Land but to the north-east thereof, in the heart of Asia Minor, where the great River the Euphrates rose. And what was the name of that heartland? Galatia. Galatia, whence came the Gaels. The same to whom St. Paul wrote his epistle. The Gaelic-speaking people of Scotland, therefore, were the true and most dhect hehs of Adam and Eve, and their language the mother-tongue of all other languages on earth If any doubted this, let them consider-take the simple word cuibhle, pronounced cooyul, Gaelic for circular. From this came the English wheel and whirl and curl. From the same root came wirren, to twist, in German; virer, to turn, in French; vermis, a worm and verter, to turn, in Latin; vermicelli, in Itahan, Krimi in Sanskrit. And so on. Could any doubt, then, that the Gaelic was the language of Heaven, the Scots the heirs of Adam, and he the heir of Scotland -and so well-suited to be Vice-Regent of Christ Himself? He would be interested to hear any who contested his reasoning.
While, after a somewhat stunned silence, all disclaimed any such presumptuous assertion, and one of the divines launched into a fulsome eulogy of this resounding proposition, which explained so much of the heavenly wisdom which fell from the royal lips, James took the opportunity to use the said lips to plant a slobbering kiss on those of young Carr, and obviously to fiddle about with him below the table. The youth smiled lazily.
Carr was beautiful, there was no denying that. From a rather awkward boy he had blossomed into a fair and graceful young man, tallish, broad of shoulder and narrow of hip, with curling auburn hah, worn long, above a wide brow, long-lashed and rather prominent eyes, a straight nose and full pouting lips, moistly red. Dressed all in cloth-of-silver, seeded with pearls, beribboned in blue, with cheeks and finger-nails as red as his lips, he lounged at amiable ease. Heriot, looking, wondered how much financial astuteness could he beneath that complacently immature exterior -and, if little, who was "managing" him?
'Your brother rides high, Sir Andrew," he murmured to Kerr at his side. "He has learned how to butter his bread since he went to France!"
"Is he my brother?" Dand Kerr asked. "Damme, sometimes I wonder! Leastways, he scarce acknowledges me, now! He never looks the road I'm on."
"Whose road does he look, then? Other than his own? My Lord Doncaster*s, there?"
"Jamie Hay's? Not him. He is as little heeded as am I. Robin finds his own kin tiresome. It seems he can do without us."
"I give him twelve months." That was Southampton, who seemed to have wakened up, at the other side of Heriot, "No more. Unless Overbury is less greedy." "Overbury? You mean Sir Thomas? The poet, my lord?"
"Poet? I'd call him otherwise, Master Heriot But that's the man.
He, h'm advises our Robin. Did you not know?"
James suddenly was banging on the table with his tankard. It had seemingly occurred to him that Master John Donne, theologian, was implying, in his otherwise adulatory remarks, that he, the monarch had more or less imbibed knowledge of the heavenly language by divine right and godly connection, and had not had to learn it the hard way like other scholars. Much incensed, he announced that he had indeed had to study the Gaelic, along with Sanskrit, Hebrew, Greek, Latin and French, with the help of his tutor Geordie Buchanan's wicked tongue and ready belt. Many a sore ear and ringing head he had suffered, etcetera.
Heriot was not listening, his mind busy. This of Overbury interested him. Sir Thomas Overbury was quite famous, a politician rather than a courtier, an academic of some renown who had travelled widely abroad, an intimate of Ben Jonson and something of a protege of the Howards. But he was seldom seen at Court, and seemed an unlikely "manager" for young Carr.
James had got back to the subject of language, and was demanding of Philip Herbert, Earl of Montgomery, whether he agreed that Aramaic predated Sanskrit-for it was his wont to keep his courtiers on their toes in these sessions by descending on individuals for opinions without warning; moreover, he made a point of seeking to retain the goodwill of his displaced favourites and keeping them by his side. Montgomery, for instance, had been appointed to the profitable office of Keeper of the New Forest, coincident with Carr's rise. The Earl now declared that, being as a new-born babe in the matter of languages, having enough trouble with English and Welsh, he was well content to accept a master's ruling, namely His Majesty's.
The King reproved him for mental laziness, but was evidently well enough pleased. He went on exploring by-ways of the subject for a little longer, impervious to the growing weight of boredom around him, then suddenly appeared to become aware of the passage of time and brought the session to an abrupt close. He turned, and tweaked Carr's ear.
The Wisest Fool mog-4 Page 43
