The Wisest Fool

by Nigel Tranter

  "With your capacity for, h'm, variety, sirrah, perhaps not. But I must needs watch for my poor lambs of Maids-in-Waiting, since I understand that you have an especial weakness for such!"

  A titter of amusement went round the great chamber, at least from the English courtiers—for Southampton had got two of Elizabeth's Maids-of-Honour into trouble, and the old Queen had forced him to marry the second one. The man had the grace to deepen his flush.

  "In Your Highness's presence, all other women are safe from Harry Wriothesley," he gave back boldly, nevertheless.

  The Queen's eyes narrowed, since that might be interpreted in two ways, in the circumstances. "In that case, my lord, it behoves me to keep good watch on you, does it not ? I shall ask my good friend Geordie Heriot, there, to maintain an eye on you. He is good at that—and moreover has an interest in the matter of Mistress Alison, I think!"

  That retiring man gulped in surprise and some confusion—first at thus being unexpectedly singled out and brought into the discussion, and secondly at the Queen's casual linking of his name with that of the Primrose girl, and the roguish glance that went with it. He coughed, embarrassed, bowed briefly and said nothing. Alison laughed cheerfully.

  The new Knight of the Garter did not so much as spare a glance for Heriot Goldsmiths and money-lenders only entered his world within very clearly defined limits. "You must take your due precautions, Madam," he said easily. "It will but make the chase the more to my taste!"

  "Take care then, sir, lest my precautions follow those of Her late Majesty—who clapped you in the Tower, did she not ?"

  Southampton forbore to smile at that. "Such would require His Majesty's decision—and he has proved that he thinks better of me, has he not?" That was quick, almost sharp. "His Majesty knows his true friends."

  "And you are one of these, my lord ?" "I proved it, with my lord of Essex. And others." "Ah, yes. But my lord of Essex is dead. And the others—where are they?"

  "Not here, to be sure." Quite noticeably, suddenly, the atmosphere of idle banter had changed for something more serious. Southampton looked around the company, and his thin mouth turned down at the corners. "I see none here—or in the hall back there—who elected to aid King James then !"

  As some quick breaths were indrawn, Heriot exchanged glances with Lennox, these two recognising all too clearly that this was now verging on dangerous politics, certainly not to be advised. The Duke took a step forward, seeking to catch the Queen's eye.

  But Anne, amongst her many virtues, counted neither tact nor great forbearance, and once embarked on a course she was hard to stop.

  "Who are these good friends, my lord?" she pressed. "And if they exist, indeed, why did they achieve so little. Essex's attempt came to nothing."

  "There were not a few. And in high positions. But we were betrayed. The Cecils, Coke..."

  Lennox interrupted. "My lord—let us have no talk of politics and statecraft here. In the Queen's drawing-room."

  "Her Majesty asked me, my lord Duke."

  Anne bit her lip, annoyed at the implied rebuke. "I but wished to know why so many great men, as they say, did so little. At the time of the Essex rebellion."

  "And I say that if Her late Majesty made a party against the friends of Essex, of course they were bound to submit Your Majesty may question their zeal. But I say, none of then private enemies durst have expressed themselves so!" That rather incoherent declaration came out in a rush, as the speaker glared round him defiantly.

  At the gasps of offence by the Queen's ladies, and others, a new voice spoke up, and in no pacifying tone. "Did you look at me, my lord?"

  It was the Lord Grey de Wilton, a somewhat older man, prominent in the Cecil-Hatton-Coke faction which had for so long dominated England in Elizabeth's name, violent opponents of Essex the fallen favourite. "If the cap fits, wear it, Grey!"

  "You are saying that honest men dared not to accuse traitors ? That we sheltered behind Her late and glorious Majesty ?"

  "If you so wish to interpret it" Southampton had some difficulty with that word interpret "But I warn you—watch your words, sirrah!"

  "I give you the he in your teeth, d'you hear!"

  "Gentlemen! My lords!" Lennox cried. 'This is outrage! A shame—bickering in the Queen's presence. Have done. Seek Her Majesty's pardon."

  "This time-server called me a traitor, in the Queen's presence!" Southampton shouted, pointing angrily. "Me—after two years in the Tower for King James!"

  "Who do you name time-server, man? There were Greys de Wilton serving England when Wriothesleys were herding sheep for better men than they!"

  "God damn you, Grey!" Southampton clapped his hand down to where his sword should have hung—but one of James's first commands to his Court was that, as in Scotland, no man went armed in the royal presence or establishments, save only the Captain of the Guard and the Duke of Lennox.

  Grey's own hand groped for a weapon—for he, like his enemy, was somewhat under the influence of drink. Glaring, they approached each other like fighting-cocks.

  "My lords !" Anne protested. "Remember where you are."

  One of the ladies screamed, but only slightly.

  The two protagonists heard nothing, saw nothing but each other and mutual hate. Gone was the veneer of the fine and imperturbable English gentlemen, masters of themselves and all else. Fists were clenched for want of better weapons.

  Lennox, Heriot and other men rushed in to keep them apart, upsetting certain furniture in the process. Ladies twittered and cried out—though by no means all of them, the Primrose girl for instance watching in wide-eyed pleasurable anticipation.

  Anne was suddenly very angry. Scenes she did not greatly mind and was quite used to; but to have her royal commands completely ignored thus was not to be tolerated. She clapped hands together.

  "Vicky!" she ordered. "Send for the Guard. These men to be put in ward. The Guard, I say!"

  There was a shocked silence.

  "Er ... Your Grace! Scarce the Guard !" Lennox said, in some agitation. "These lords are greatly at fault. They are drink-taken. I will escort them to their quarters..."

  "I said the Guard, my lord Duke. At once."

  Bowing, Ludovick went to the door, and brought in two of the scarlet-clad and halberded Yeomen on duty there. "Escort these lords to their quarters," he directed.

  "Under ward!" the Queen snapped. And as two peers of the realm were marched off, one only that day appointed to the highest honour in the land, she turned her back on them and changed tone, expression and carriage. "Hetty, now we are quit of these unmannerly oafs, you and Lucy shall sing us a duet. The ballad Master Jonson taught us at Althorp. Primrose—you will accompany them on the virginal."

  As held breaths were released and the illusion of normality returned to the withdrawing-room, Lennox moved over to Heriot's side. He sighed.

  "We could have done without that, Geordie, I think" he said quietly.

  "All of it," the other nodded. "I fear the King will not be pleased."

  "Aye. Anne has got the bit between her teeth! But... James can hobble her. This was folly."

  They had not long to wait. The tuneful tinkling ballad was only half finished when the room's double doors were thrown abruptly open by two more of the Yeomen of the Guard, one of whom thumped loudly on the floor with his halberd-staff.

  "Silence for the King's gracious Majesty!" he cried.

  James came stamping in with stick much in evidence, Mar, Ramsay, Pembroke and others at his back. He was glowering fiercely.

  "Here's a fine pickle o' herrings !" he spluttered wetly, thickly, into the sudden hush. "A right stramash! What's this I hear— heh? Answer me—what's this, a God's name? What do I hear?"

  "You Majesty perhaps did not hear my ladies singing!" the Queen said, head high. "Else I scarce believe you would interrupt so!"

  The monarch ignored that. "You, Annie—I'll hae a word wi' you. Aye, I will. Clear the room."

  A notable confusion followed,
as men and women eddied to and fro, most only too anxious to get away but others reluctant. The Yeomen were in some doubts as to whom should be shepherded out of this illustrious throng, hesitant to press the loftiest James stamped up and down, poking at all and sundry impatiently.

  At length all were gone save one or two of the Queen's ladies, Lennox, Mar and Pembroke. George Heriot was just slipping through the door when a thick voice halted him.

  "No' you, Geordie Heriot. You bide here. I've a flea for your lug, too! Aye and you too, Vicky Stewart The rest—begone!"

  "Hetty—you will stay with me I" the Queen declared clearly.

  Recognising possible impasse, James side-stepped skilfully. "Aye, Cousin Hetty—you bide too. Your mistress maybe will need your services! Now—steik that door."

  Mar was the last out, making a long face of it, and James was left with his wife, two cousins and his jeweller.

  "Aye, well," hei said, pointing his stick at Anne. "Did you, or did you no' put Harry Wriothesley under arrest—like I'm told? Wi' yon Grey ? And march them off under guard like, like a pair o' cut-purses I"

  "I did. And would do so again. They had words, all but came to blows, in my presence."

  "You'll no' do so again—d'you hear, woman? I'll no' have it. I dinna care if they piss themsel's in your presence—you'll no' do the likes o' yon! Here's me fair flogging mysel' to keep the peace between my Scots and English lords, and you put two peers o' England in ward on a woman's whim! Before all. One o' whom I've only this day made a Knight o' the Garter I"

  'They were half drunk. Would you have your wife insulted in her own drawing-room by boors, English peers or none?"

  "Guidsakes, you'll no' ca' Harry Wriothesley a drunken boor, woman! You will not He's a good laddie, and I like him fine."

  "He is a trouble-maker and a lecher and a, a..." She swallowed the fatal word. "You know, very well what else he is! But he will not run free with his ill manners in my presence—he or any other."

  "What folk may or may not do at my Court is my concern, no' yours—and I'd hae you mind it! Aye, mind it well—frae now on. I've obsairved a right unruly and rebellious spirit in you, Annie, since you cam frae Scotland. Maist unsuitable. And for that I'm no' leaving you guiltless, Vicky. I am not. You've been right soft wi' her, I can see. Given in. No' minded my express wishes and instructions. I am right displeased wi' you."

  "I am a subject, She, and cannot constrain the Queen—even if I would."

  "You had my royal powers in Scotland as Viceroy. What d'you think I gave you them for? No' to run after Annie like a lap-dog, to let her spend my siller like burn-water, to parade hersel' shamelessly through the land like some Roman concubine!"

  "She... !"

  "James, reserve you ill humours and ill tongue for me, in private, if you please! Spare Vicky your unworthy strictures. He is blameless of any guilt. He came to my aid when I was direly ill—as you, my husband, should have done! And, with Master Heriot’s help, saved me, and you, from a most evil plot..."

  "Tush, woman—havers! There was no plot. Just that lassie Gray's imaginings. It was a' a nonsense. I dinna trust her faither, mind—but this ploy was just blethers frae the start. Yon Mary Gray should ha' had mah sense. Aye, and so should you. Though . . . maybe you were using this o' a plot for your ain bit ends, eh ? Was that it ? Mah plots than one ? "

  "I do not know what you mean, James. Can it be that you, She, are as drink-taken as your two friends ?"

  "Na, na—my heid's fine and clear, lassie. You'll hae to do better than that! I'm no' sae blate, mind, as maybe I seem—and I hear tell o' maist o' what goes on in Scotland, for a' I'm no' there."

  "But inaccurately, it seems. Since you think there was no plot to make our son King of Scots in your room If the rest you hear is like..."

  "Johnnie Mar told me the rights o' that As none should ken better, since he held the laddie."

  "Mar! That snake in the grass! That red churl! You believe him before you own wife! Aye, and your cousin here..."

  "Silence, woman If you canna open your silly mou' but to miscall my friends, then you'll no' open it at a'! D'you hear ? You will remain silent. Until I gie you leave to speak. That's a command. I've had enough o' this—aye, plenties. None here shall speak unless I say so." The King was trembling with anger, slobbering notably and plucking at his cod-piece, as he did when agitated. The other two men at least bowed.

  James sucked in saliva. "You have a' failed me, maist grievously. Aye—you too, Geordie Heriot. I'm coming to you! My trust you have abused. Abused and misused. Forby this havers o' a plot, you hae squandered my money, injured my friends, rejected and insulted Sussex and Carey and them I sent to serve you. When I was waiting here for you, you were daundering doon through this England, wasting time and playing the proud fool. Aye, and biding wi' folk who are my enemies. And now you misuse my friends here in my ain house! D'you ken what you do, woman? D'you ken what" you do ?"

  He held up a shaking hand as Anne opened her lips.

  "I'll tell you. This England I have to govern, under God. A great and powerful realm full o' proud and arrogant nobles, who hae neither love nor loyalty to me—aye, and conceive me a fool! If it suits me that they do so—guidsakes, they'll learn, the chiels, they'll learn! But meantime, I must play this against that, raise up here, bring doon there, balancing—aye balancing. I'm alone, see you—fell alone." He paused, blinking, licking. "I dinna trust the Cecils—aye, or any o' them. I should expect help frae my family—no' hindrance. I maum play the Cecils against the Howards, the Greys against both, the late Essex's friends against Hatton, that proud crittur Raleigh against a'. Yon Kildare woman you spurned—she's Prances Howard, Nottingham's daughter, the Lord Admiral and the late Norfolk's brother, who died for my mother Mary. He's the powerfulest man in England, and his daughter the apple o' his eye. In your household she could serve me right well. The Lady Scrope—she was Norfolk's sister. Another Howard. And the Lady Rich—Essex's sister, who died in my cause. Eh, Annie—do you ken what you do?"

  He drew great gulping breaths. "And you snubbed yon great fat Wurtemburg. He's a drunken hog—but frae here he's going to Spain first, then to Rome. The Pope. He can carry my messages— if he will. Fell important messages that I canna risk in writing. No' yet. And nane o' these Englishry maun hear tell o'. Yet. For I'm going to hae peace wi' Spain. Aye, and the Vatican too. War's for fools, and I'll hae nane o' it The English—they canna see it Glory, they ca' it the silly limmers 1 It cost Elizabeth dear. There'll be nae wars while I reign here, God aiding me. I kept the peace in Scotland—I'll do the same here, some way. Alea bella incerta, aye!"

  There was silence in the great room for a space, save for the King's heavy breathing and lip-licking. Under royal command of speechlessness, none could make comment.

  James took his time, undoubtedly savouring the situation. "I will hae nae mair fools upset my plans," he went on, at length "Annie—you will hae your ain Court, and I'll hae mine. You can keep your ain women—but I'll appoint what gentlemen I choose. George Carey will be your Chamberlain, I say—and if yon Johnnie Kennedy tries to say otherwise, I'll break the staff o' his chamber-kinship ower his head for him! Tell him so 1"

  "May I speak?" the Queen asked, voice quivering a little.

  "No, you may not! I'm no' finished yet." James swung round, pointing with his stick. "Now you, Geordie Heriot I'm disappointed in you. You're a man wi' a level head, and some wits to you. No' like these! You ken what's what. And yet you let yon Mary Gray cozen you. You let the Queen spend my siller—when I sent you up to see she didna. You even lent her mair money o' your ain, to waste. Encouraging her—aye, encouraging. You'll no' get that back frae me, I promise you! You trailed at her silly heels. Why, man—why?"

  "Are you seeking an answer, Sire? Giving me leave to speak?"

  "Of course I am. Dinna play the daft laddie wi' James Stewart!"

  "Very well, Sire. What I did, I did with good cause, in my own judgment. I believed, and still believe, th
e Master of Gray's plot to be real. And dangerous. But for the Queen's great help and patient forbearance, and her ill, I believe that by now there would have been a Henry King of Scots proclaimed at the Cross of Edinburgh..."

  James looked away. "Blethers, man. Enough o' that."

  "As Your Majesty wishes. For the rest, I did what seemed best, in the Queen's grave illness. And afterwards, I did not believe that Your Majesty would have your consort enter England in any but fitting style for the wife of a great monarch. Nor was it for me to chide and check Her Majesty—me, a humble tradesman."

  "Ooh, aye!"

  "And now, Sire, since I have incurred your royal displeasure, I crave your permission to leave this your Court. To go to London to set up my business and trade there. As should have been done ere this. And if Your Highness does not approve of that, then I shall return to Scotland forthwith. And gladly, Sire."

  "My, my—so that's the way o' it! Geordie Heriot climbs his high horse wi' Jamie Stewart 1 The humble tradesman, heh?" The King chuckled, and waggled his stick, mockingly threatening. "Na, na—you'll no' win-awa' yet, mannie. I've work for you to do. Plenty. And only you I'd trust to do it Come to me the morn, Geordie, and I'll gie you a list o' new knights made since I saw you last I've made a wheen—aye, a wheen. Nigh on two hundred, I'd say. You will ken what to do wi' that, eh? And Vicky can disapprove if he likes—but it will aye help to pay for some o' the debts he let my wife run up!"

  James looked round at them all, glowering again. 'You've understood me ? I've nae wish to speak o' this again. But if I do, you'll ken who's king in this realm! Geordie—to me after hunting, the morn. I've got another ploy to whisper in your lug. Now— a guid night to you—aye, a guid night!" And he swung about and hobbled for the door—which Heriot ran to open for him. The Lord's Anointed stamped back to his interrupted night's drinking.