"VICKY," Queen Anne exclaimed, "of God's mercy, go get him! This is beyond all! I vow, if he does not come back forthwith, I shall return to Whitehall by boat! Now. Tell him so. It is cold. I will not wait here, thus. Aye, and as you go, have that woman Arabella's coach moved further back. I will not have her coming immediately behind myself, as though she was some great one. Tell Cecil he must change it"
Lennox began to speak, checked himself, and sighing, shrugged. "As Your Majesty says." Signing to a groom to hold his horse, he bowed and strode off down the lengthy column. He did not catch his cousin Arabella's eye as he passed her white and gold open coach directly behind the Queen's. That was not difficult, for she looked at the Duke as little as possible, resenting the fact that he now held the Lennox lands in Scotland which she conceived should be hers.
He had to pass numerous other coaches and actually turned a corner from Tower Hill before he could find Cecil who stood, frowning impatiently, with a group of other notables-for the Tower of London was scarcely the best place conveniently to assemble a mile-ling procession, with open space at a premium, no length of straight streeting and the strung-out but stationary cavalcade winding away through a network of side-streets and lanes most awkwardly.
"My lord," he said-for Sir Robert had been created Baron Cecil of Essendine and Viscount Cranborne-"Her Majesty commands that the Lady Arabella's coach be removed further back. Will you see to it?"
"But I cannot do that, my lord Duke," the Secretary of State objected. "She is there on His Majesty's express order. Next to the Queen's coach," he said.
"It is difficult," Lennox admitted. "But… you could try to move the coach back a little way, to insert some of the Guard to march between, perhaps? That might serve."
Cranborne inclined a large but disapproving head barely perceptibly.
Sir Edward Coke, the Attorney-General, and related by marriage to Cecil, stood beside him, a brilliant but irascible man. "This is intolerable-this delay!" he snapped. "We have been waiting here fully an hour, already. What in God's good name is the King doing?"
'That, sir, the Queen commands me to go see. But-His Majesty will conduct matters his own way, I have no doubt!"
Coke muttered something probably treasonable for anyone other than the Attorney-General.
Lennox retraced his steps, and turned in at the main gatehouse of the Tower-as indeed had James himself an hour before, when he also wearied of the waiting involved in marshalling the procession. Where was His Majesty, he demanded of the guard-captain of Yeomen?
"The Menagerie, sir," he was told. "He is gone to the lions. You can hear them roaring."
Hurrying across the outer and inner baileys, the Duke came to the pit, surrounded by cages, in which the royal lions and other animals were kept James had been relieved to hear that the creatures had survived the plague without loss, even producing a couple of lion cubs. He was now, apparently, investigating their condition.
The noise of angry lions and screaming yelps brought him to the King, with young Prince Henry, leaning over the rail round the pit, and experimenting to discover how different varieties of dog reacted to being pushed into the lions' dens. At sight of Lennox, he hailed him happily.
"Come you, Vicky, and see. The little dog is best. Mair spry and spirited. And lasts longest. Yon mastiff was no good. Humpit there in a comer, and had its back broke with the first whang o' a paw. The bulldog wasna much better. It attacked but was picked up like a kitten and the life shaken out o' it. Yon's it the lioness is eating. But the little sma' terrier, now, is still alive and jumping around like a flea. It has agility and wit, baith-as well as muscle and teeth, see. There's a lesson for you there, Henry laddie-aye, a moral."
"Let it out, Sire," the boy pleaded. "It has done sufficient well. The terrier. If you please. Look, it bleeds…"
"Na, na-there's sphit in it yet The danger brings out the sphit, see you. This is the high moment o' the bit dog's life, Henry. Facing and outleaping lions. You'd no' deprive it o' its moment? There is much to be learned here, boy." "Please, She-save it now…"
"Quiet, boy 1 Be a man. Sir Edward," James turned to the Lieutenant-Governor of the Tower, Peyton, father of the young man so dramatically knighted at Berwick Bridge, "hae you nae mah dogs?"
"Alas, Majesty-these are all my dogs. Or were!" the other said sadly. "A bear, perhaps? Or a wolf…?" "No sport wi' a bear. A wolf, maybe…"
"She," Lennox intervened, "may I ask that this entertainment be left, meantime? Taken up again later, perhaps. All wait. Hundreds. Thousands. And it is cold. This March wind. The Queen asks that you will deliver her out of it That you will allow the procession to move off. All is long ready."
"Nae doubt, Vicky. But there is mah to life than processions provided for the rascal multitude. Belua multorum capitum!"
'Your loyal London subjects, She. Who have suffered greatly. And now would welcome you."
"Ooh, aye. Crowds. Vulgar, ignorant folk. Unlettered, untutored. Odi profanum vulgus I'll no' hurry for the likes o' them."
"Perhaps not, She. But the Queen talks of returning to Whitehall Palace. By river, as you came. Now. She is chilled with waiting in this March wind. Cecil-or Cranborne-and Coke also urge a move. Much is planned en route, for your state entry into your English capital…"
"I ken better than you what's planned en route," James interrupted. "It's my entry, man-and they'll no' can start without me!" He chuckled. "Eh, Vicky-be not so concerned for what doesna signify-you that might ha' been a king." "I thank God that was your fate, not mine, James!"
"She-look! The terrier-another wound. Oh, Sire-save it! It cannot last much longer, I swear. It tires. Save it, She-and, and may I have it if it lives? It is a brave dog."
"Och well, laddie," James relented. "If Sir Edward says so. It's his bit tyke."
So the terrier was rescued on the end of a hooked pole, and with Henry clutching it, panting and bleeding, to his fine white satin, pearl-seeded breast, an unhurried return was made to the waiting parade.
James noticed that Arabella's carriage had a posse of Yeomen of the Guard between it and that of the Queen and ordered this to be removed. Anne pointedly looked the other way as her husband passed.
The procession was most carefully marshalled, in theory, according to precedence, in the English fashion. The Earl Marshal, the Duke of Norfolk, having been proscribed and executed by Elizabeth in 1572, his brother the Lord Henry Howard, now Earl of Northampton, took his place and organised it all, assisted by his great-nephew the Earl of Arundel, rightful Duke of Norfolk. First of all came the King's judges, splendid in their robes-and glad of them in the wind-led by the Lord Chief Justice Popham. Then the great officers of state, under the new Lord Chamberlain, another Howard, the Earl of Suffolk, and still another, the Lord Admiral, Earl of Nottingham. Then the Privy Council behind the Lord Chancellor Egerton, newly created Lord Ellesmere for the occasion. There followed the Knights of the Garter, then the mass of the nobility, four by four in seemingly endless ranks, succeeded by the Knights of the Bath. Then the bishops, mitred and chasubled in coped glory behind Archbishop Whitgift of Canterbury. There followed the royal household under Captain of the Bodyguard, Sir Thomas Erskine of Dirleton, a kinsman of Mar's, replacing Sir Walter Raleigh who remained at the Tower-in a cell. The heralds under Garter, Clarenceux and Norroy Kings of Arms, brilliant in colour, came next, before the royal group.
All this enormous column had to move off in as orderly a fashion as was possible, at the same time, westwards, interspersed with trumpeters, many bands of instrumentalists, choirs of singers and the like. This was to be effected by trumpet-call signals, but owing to the long delay certain constituent groups had become dispersed-even into wine-shops-and much trumpeting and toing and froing of courtiers was necessary before any consistent forward movement could be achieved. James had some-tiling to say about that
When eventually the start was accomplished, the royal party came almost two-thirds of the way down the lengthy column. First young Henry rode, alone on a white Barbary mare, small back straight, upright, bowing gravely right and left, his fine white satin only slightly sprinkled with terrier's blood Two scarlet Yeomen marched at his horse's head. Then yards behind came the King, on a white jennet, scowling rather, in orange, purple and green, so padded and stuffed as to seem as broad as he was high, his lofty-crowned hat with its diamond-studded band sprouting multi-coloured ostrich plumes. Over his head was borne a handsome canopy embroidered with the royal arms and carried on ribboned poles by eight Gentlemen of the Bedchamber, all looking daggers at one another, Herbert-now Sir Philip and a Knight of the Bath-Southampton and six Scots including Sir John Ramsay, Sir George Home and James Hay, newly created Viscount Doncaster, the King having been busy filling up the House of Lords, for financial and personal as well as political reasons. Large contingents of Yeomen of the Guard flanked this group on either side, three deep, to ensure that the populace was kept at a suitable distance.
Immediately behind came a band of musicians consisting entirely of drummers-James's own arrangement; on the whole he preferred percussion to harmony, providing always that he was prepared for the outbreak, it being only sudden noise which upset him. This company certainly gave of their best, decibel-wise-and if they flagged, the monarch turned round in his saddle and apostrophised them as to their duty and privilege in no uncertain style.
The Queen's white-and-gold carriage, drawn by two snow-white mules, followed, with Anne frequently clapping hands over her ears to seek to temper the thunderous beat from in front on oversensitive ears. She was blue with cold, for, though mercifully dry, the March wind off the Essex marches was particularly chilly, and she was dressed in silks and satins more apt for the boudoir, with a notably low neckline, the extravagant starched ruff round her throat being neither comfortable nor warming. Her own ostrich plumes, inserted with such pains into her elaborate coiffure by Alison Primrose and Margrete Vinster, had succumbed rather to the breeze and long wait and required constant adjustment Nevertheless, Anne smiled and bowed and waved with great amiability and royal beneficence. But she never turned her head fully either right or left, in case she should glimpse, out of the corner of an eye, Arabella Stewart in the identical carriage behind, now close up again.
The Duke of Lennox, as vaguely royal, rated a horse, the only other in the entire cavalcade-and he kept as far behind his monarch, consort and cousin and those drums, as he decently could. Thereafter came carriage after carriage of the Court and well-bred hangers-on, forming the most cheerful section of the entire procession-for they had had the foresight to bring considerable liquid refreshment with them, and moreover had three choirs of boys from London churches accompanying them, who vied with each other in the ribald wording they could contribute to selected stately melodies, with the courtiers joining in with mounting enthusiasm and invention.
Seven-year-old Princess Elizabeth had measles at Coombe Abbey, where she had been placed in the care of Lord and Lady Harington.
The so-called state entry took a three-mile route westwards from Tower Hill, by the Byward where, from the churchyard of All Hallows by the Tower, three hundred boys from Christs' Hospital sang sweetly; and some dislocation was caused by James pressing on up Mark Lane, after only a brief pause and a nod, to the resumption of drumming, while Anne waited to hear out the chorus. The coach drivers thereafter, concerned to catch up, went rocketing up Mark Lane and down Fenchurch Street at a spanking pace, the carriages lurching and heaving, despite their occupants' cries -and the choirboys behind raced, leaping and hallooing in joy, to the alarm of many lieges who, assuming the procession was over, had started to stream homewards. However, at the foot of Fenchurch Street was erected the first of no fewer than seven triumphal arches, where a speech of welcome from the city guilds had had the effect of holding up the King, so that continuity was more or less re-established. This arch had a cunningly devised model of the entire City of London balanced on its apex, a contrivance which so intrigued James that he all but cricked his neck in peering up and trying to identify the various buildings represented, moving his horse from this side of the arch to that in the process, much lessening the tedium of the speeches.
The next archway, at Gracechurch Street, was still finer, quite splendid indeed, as became the work of London's Italian colony- although James pointed out roguishly that it might be said to be something Papistical, and might not find favour with all of his Council. Anne again got delayed here, admiring the artwork and priceless pictures of saints-and with her, of course, the second half of the column-so that there had to be another tally-ho along Cornhill, passing the third arch at the canter-much to the indignation of the apprentices' body which had erected it.
At the Royal Exchange the powerful Dutch trading community, representing some of the richest men in the city, had still another arch, symbolising the seventeen provinces of the Netherlands; and here there were more speeches, lightned however by being in Latin, to which James at least was prepared to pay consideration- and indeed to put right the orators on one or two occasions, drawing Prince Henry's attention to slips and alternative usages. Here George Heriot watched from amongst the crowd and was interested to hear the comments of London's loyal citizenry on their new monarch.
In Cheapside, a reunion was effected with the first half of the company, Justiciary, Privy Council, Church and the rest, who, not having had to listen to speeches, had made much more expeditious progress, and indeed had not seen the sovereign for some time. Here an elaborate Fountain of Virtue actually ran wine, of fair quality, and moreover was serviced by scantily-robed virgins who, in the chill wind and waiting, were to be excused a certain amount of previous ware-sampling, so that the virtue demonstrated was hearty rather than chaste. This well suited the processionists, even the majority of the bishops-amongst whom Puritans were not prominent-and enabled the crowned heads to catch up. Gold cups-empty, by some mischance-were here presented to King, Queen and Prince, and the marathon was restarted in better fettle. Unfortunately the drummers and choirboys got left behind at the wine fountain, by an oversight
Fleet Street delighted the Queen, at least, by producing an orchestra playing traditional Danish airs, at the sixth triumphal arch, so that there was another disjunction, resulting in Anne arriving late, with the majority of the Court, at the Temple Bar final archway, where James was being presented with the city sword by the Lord Mayor, plus a jugful of gold coins, which someone had had the good sense to arrange. James was much displeased at this interruption of the most serious part of the programme, but managed to contain himself sufficiently to knight there and then the Lord Mayor, the two Sheriffs and, by chance, the Master of the Soapmakers Livery who had somehow got pushed into a forward position-all without further financial arrangement. Thereafter, suddenly becoming weary of the entire proceedings, he announced, to nobody in particular, that he was going back to his bed at Whitehall, and that his Annie and the laddie could continue with the remainder of the programme-seeing they seemed to be enjoying it Himself, he had a bellyache and enough was plenties.
Some disorganisation ensued, as processionists tried to decide who went with whom, or at all. James resolved this by digging spurs into his jennet's flanks and setting off riverwards at a rousing half gallop. Being the only man. mounted, save for Lennox and the Prince, he had the occasion to himself, and clattered off down The Strand. Recognising this probably to be unsuitable, after a little hesitation, the Duke spurred after him. At least the citizenry here were treated to a display of royal horsemanship such as they had never seen before.
Anne, now the centre of attention and attraction, and in her element, continued on her regal way, the epitome of queenly charm and benevolence, indicating however to Arabella that her attendance was no longer required, and choosing not to notice the gradual dropping off of a large part of the retinue. The waiting crowds, starved of royal pomp and display-for Elizabeth in her later years had given up the popular street parades of her glorious heyday-cheered themselves hoarse, and, being still queen conscious, scarely noticed the lack of the King, especially with the first princely heir to the throne for fifty years, riding, like Prince Charming in white, through then midst West London at least was conquered for the Stewarts.
"Maister Heriot! Maister Heriot!" Tom Henderson cried, head thrust round the door of Heriot's office. "It's himsel'! Come you down. My Goad-it's himsel'! Here, I tell you." Henderson was the foreman goldsmith, brought down from Edinburgh. He was a man of sterling worth-and knew it-was no respecter of persons, and had taught Heriot much of his trade. 'Himself, Tom? Who is himself? What's the steer…?" "Himsel'-the King, man! He's here. In the shop." "Save us! What can this be…? Who is with him?"
"Naebody. He's alone. There's a puckle guards left oot in the street"
"And you've left him alone! In the work-room, man!" Pushing past the other, Heriot hurried out of the office and down the stairs. He did not trust James Stewart left alone in a jeweller's workshop.
He found the King admiring a finely-engraved silver-gilt chalice, and was relieved that this had caught the royal eye, since it by no means could be stowed away in even the most capacious doublet pocket.
"Sire!" he cried. 'This is too much! Too great an honour. That Your Majesty should come in person to my humble shop…"
"Eh, Geordie man? I used to come to you in Edinburgh, did I no'? Yon bit booth at St Giles. Many's the crack we've had yonder."
"But-this is different, She. London. They do not understand such, such familiarity between monarch and tradesman, here in England. Their habits are a deal more… rigid…"
"Rigid! Aye, rigid's a good word, Geordie. Rigidus, rigor. A good word-but a bad quality, eh? Rigid things break, see you- mair supple things bend. I'd aye liefer bend than break, man! How much is this bit cup? "
‘I have had it made for the Earl of Shrewsbury, She. It will cost him twelve pounds." "I like it fine. I'll hae it, Geordie."
"But, Sire, it is ordered. And it has Shrewsbury's arms engraved. I will make you another…"
"I'll hae this one. Shrewsbury can wait, the man. You can wipe off his arms easy, and put in mine. His talbot beasties will change into a lion and a unicorn, fine."
"As you will, Sire." Heriot inclined his head. "To what do I owe the honour of this visit, this unprecedented visit?" "Och, I just want a bit word wi' you, Geordie." 'Tour Majesty could have summoned me to Whitehall Palace."
"There's aye folk about, yonder-folk wi' long ears! What I hae to say is for your lugs alone, man."
"Then Your Majesty had better come up to my room. Where we can be alone."
Upstairs, James looked around Heriot's office with interest, poking and prying. "Books, paper, ledgers," he commented. "You'll hae a wheen secrets in a' yon books. Debts. Notes o' hand. Title-deeds, belike." "Secret, Sire-yes." "But no' secret frae me. Eh, Geordie?" Heriot said nothing.
"There might be papers there could tell me much. Ooh, aye- about some folk I'd be as well to ken about 1 For my ain and the realm's good."
"In such case, Sire, you must trust me to inform you. Of anything dangerous or treasonable."
"Och, I trust you, man. As I dinna trust many. But your judgment might be faulty. Aye, faulty." "Has Your Majesty found it so hitherto?"
"No. No' yet. Though, in the matter o' plots, I'm no' sure that you're a' that fly!" The King looked round him. "It's gey cold in here. I'd hae thought you'd had a better fire, man." He tottered over to peer into an open deed box. "I'm hearing you lent Rutland ten thousand pounds. Yon's a lot of money. Sterling. I'm no' sure Rutland's a friend o' mine."
"I am interested that Your Highness should have come to hear of it 1 But my lord of Rutland is adding to his castle of Belvoir- where you have hunted. And will no doubt hunt again 1 I understand that is what the money is for. And he offers excellent security. I cannot think that there is any cause for Your Majesty's…concern!"
"I am relieved to hear it, Geordie!" James said dryly. He sat down abruptly. "This o' loans and property-aye, and hunting," he observed casually. "I'm clunking that it's maybe no' just suitable that the monarch should aye hae to go hunting in other folk's parks. The monarch should hae a bit park o' his ain. Nearby. Would you agree, Geordie?" 'You have Windsor Great Park…"
"Ooh, aye. But Windsor's no' to be compared wi' some I'd name. It’s no' right hunting country." He shot a glance at his jeweller. "I was thinking o' Royston. In Hertfordshire. Royston, aye." "H'mm. A large place, She, I'm told. Very fine-but expensive."
"Is your king to hae some wretched bit house so much poorer than his subjects', man?"
"No, She-no. But the price is high just now, for all such. So many Scots lords have come South, to be near your Court. Buying properties around London. Many will have to sell again all too soon, I fear…" "And you have lent them money?"
"Some, She, yes. Too many, I fear. I may well have over-lent- may not get it all back…"
"You'll no' tell me that Jinglin' Geordie Heriot hasna covered himsel'! Wi' holding the title deeds to a' these properties?"
"To be sure. But if too many are forced to sell, owing to" the high cost of London living, the market will fall badly."
"That'll no' apply to me. I'm thinking! Gie me twenty thousand pounds, to help buy this Royston, Geordie."
The other drew a deep breath. 'That is a lot of money, Sire. In… in the circumstances." "Can you no' find it for me?" 'It will be difficult…"
"Difficult, eh? Then-there are other usurers in London, Geordie Heriot, let me tell you! There's John Spilman-aye, and William Herrick. Both jewellers to Elizabeth. Aye, and both anxious to be jewellers to me! Rich men, wi' big lands. They'd maybe no' find it sae difficult to lend a few pounds to their liege lord!"
"To be sure, Sire," Heriot shrugged. "But they might charge Your Majesty interest! And expect to see their money back rather more quickly than I have done. No doubt you will sound them out-if you have not already done so "
"H'mmm. Och, aye." James looked at his companion from under down-drawn brows. "It's no' that I'm wanting to go past you, Geordie. Guid kens. You and I hae done business for a long while. Our friendship is of auld standing, eh?"
"Your Majesty greatly honours me. Old standing, yes-like some of your bills of hand which I hold!"
"Hours, man-what way's that to speak! To your auld gossip Jamie Stewart. And I dinna owe you that much?"
"Thirty-eight thousand pounds, Sire-not counting the jewel for the Lady Arabella. Since you said to keep that separate. Sterling."
"Waesucks-sae much as that, still! Och, you'll likely no' be adding it up right, man."
"Add them yourself, Sire, if you doubt me. Your notes-of-hand are all here, in this box. Here is the key…"
"Och, never heed. Aye, but here's my note for the two thousand pounds, man.' For Arabella's bit gaud. I've brought it wi' me It was gey expensive, mind."
"I warned that it would be, Sire." Heriot took the crumpled note-of-hand which James had fished out of one of his unsavoury pockets, smoothed it out and laid it down. "I thank you." He cleared his throat "And might I remind Your Majesty that the Queen's indebtedness to me amounts to nine thousand pounds."
"Guidsakes! A' that? My Annie? Hech, hech-this is no' to be borne. She is fell extravagant, the woman. Her father, yon Frederick o' Denmark, was just the same Extravagance is a right sin-especially in women. Here have I gotten her a jointure o' six thousand, three hundred and seventy-six pounds a year, frae that Cecil. Like winning blood frae a stone! Mind you, like a' the rest in this ill-run realm it falls to be sanctioned by the parliament. Parliament mark you-deriding on how much its Queen has in her pouch Is that no' my business? It's a right scandal. But I'll teach them-I will so The morn's morn I'm opening this first parliament o' my reign in England. They'll hear a thing or twa, these English squires and merchants, I promise you! It's them that's making a pauper out o' their sovereign, wi' their insolent rules and customs. It's no' to be borne, I say. It's them that's keeping me frae my millions. My bonny ploy. But you ken that."
All too well, George Heriot knew how the English parliamentarians had objected to the wonderful knighthoods scheme, claiming it to be a form of revenue-raising, and as such the responsibility of parliament. All financial matters, they insisted, came under the purview and authority of parliament-and this was indubitably financial. Cecil had strongly advised against any offending of parliament, even before its first meeting of the reign, holding that to go ahead with the scheme meantime would be almost unthinkable. Knighting might be the King's prerogative, but sanctioning compulsory payment therefor was parliament's. So the money-spinning was held up and James grew the more disenchanted with his English subjects.
"Your Majesty will, I have no doubt, give parliament something to think about!" Heriot acceded, "But since it decides on the amount of your royal revenues, in this country, it is in a strong position. You will, probably, decide to gang warily with them" He could scarcely say more than that
"We'll see." James rubbed his hands together. "Man, it's fell cold. Can you no' do better wi' your bit fire? It's colder in here than in the street, I do declare. Sakes-I'd expect a rich man the likes o' Jinglin' Geordie Heriot to hae a better fire than this. Scented logs, at least, like I burn in my palaces-no two-three bits o' deidcoal!"
"I am sorry that my fire is too poor for Your Majesty. If I had known that you were coming…" He shrugged again, and leaning over, picked up the King's note-of-hand for two thousand pounds. He glanced at it, and then tossed it on to the smouldering embers. "That will make a little blaze, at least. Scare as rich as scented logs, perhaps… 1"
James stared, from him to the burning paper and back again, and drew a jerky, wet-sounding breath "Man!" he got out, licking lips with busy tongue. "Och, Geordie man I My goodness to God! That was… that was two thousand pounds! Sterling!"
There was silence in the office while the smoke of the note-of-hand went up the chimney, the monarch watching the process with something like awe.
"On the knighthoods matter, Sire," Heriot went on, "I have some information which perhaps may have escaped you. It seems that some of your, h'm, gentlemen not infrequently introduce candidates for knighthood to Your Majesty. And in your kindness you may oblige them. I have heard that this has become a recognised source of profit for some of the said favoured gentlemen. They it is who charge the fee-and keep it This would seem to me a form of robbery which Your Highness might wish to halt."
James actually flushed, something Heriot would not have thought possible. He looked away. 'You tell me that? Who? Who man-do you know?"
The other had no doubts as to who was involved. But suddenly he was sorry for the man before him and shook his head. "No names, Sire. I know only that it is done, by some whom you favour. You will know who bring you men to knight."
"Aye, well-maybe. I'll see to it I, h'm, thank you, Geordie. Thank you for this… and for the other. Yon two thousand pounds. It was kindly done, right kindly. I'll no' forget it But- the loan for Royston, man? You'll gie it to me, will you no'? Until this ill-begotten parliament finds me some siller." And, when the other still puckered his brows, "A knighthood for your-sel', Geordie? Would you no' maybe like to be Sir George Heriot, Knight? It sounds well enough."
'Thank you, Sire-but no. Not for me. I am not of the stuff of knights, I think. Calling me sir will not make me other than I am. A goldsmith and, and usurer! I pray to be excused."
"I jaloused you'd say that, mind. It's your pride, you see. Sinfu' pride in you. Geordie Heriot, the pridefullest man in my two kingdoms!"
The other smiled. "Not for me to say that my liege lord is wrong! But… I will find you your twenty thousand pounds, Sire. Give me two days, or perhaps three." James sighed with relief. "Uh-huh. Good. I ken't I could rely on Geordie Heriot I'll pay you back right soon, never fear. Next to Spain, this is the richest realm in Christendom There's a mite wrong if its monarch canna pay his debts. Or buy a bit house. But see you, man-a word in your lug. I'm thinking you're ower kind to my Annie. You're maybe a Wee thing soft wi' her. Now she's got yon Somerset House for her own, here in London. And Hatfield and Nonsuch-aye, and Pontefract in Yorkshire-she is getting right costly notions. You've no' to encourage her. No, nor in this silly ploy she's at about founding a university. At Ripon. A university, see you-my Annie! I ken who put that in her heid! But I'm no' having it mind. So dinna go wasting any o' your siller that airt, Geordie" "As Your Majesty wishes. But I would remind you that I am Her Majesty's jeweller also, and have been for many years. You will understand my position, Sire."
"Aye, fine I understand it I'm just warning you." James rubbed his hands again. "Man-you've nae mair bit notes-o'-hand for this fire o' yours? If s still gey cold!"
"I hope Your Majesty is not unwell? I do not feel it so cold." But perceiving that the King was presumably intending to stay longer yet Heriot put more coals on the fire.
"Aye, well-there's another matter I want a word wi' you about, Geordie. On this o' siller, likewise. It's to do wi' yon man Raleigh. D'you ken him?"
"I met him but the once, Sire. A tall and goodly man, noble seeming. I was grieved…"
"Ooh, aye-we were a' grieved. But he's in the Tower now- and bides there. But, the point is-he was a gey rich man. And we canna just find out where his money is. It's no' a' in lands, by any means. Cecil's sniffing after it-for the man's forfeit for treasonable activities mind, and his riches wi' him. If we could but lay hands on them, it would be naething to do wi' parliament, Cecil says. It's a judiciary matter, and Cecil has Coke and yon Popham in his pockets! So maybe you could do a bit sniffing around, too, Geordie? You ken a' about money, and where it hides itsel'. Hae a bit sniff, man."
Heriot's features stiffened. "I would wish nothing to do with that business Sire," he said levelly. "To be honest with you, I think it smells badly. I would prefer to do my sniffing elsewhere!"
"Oh-ho-so your nose has become ower delicate, has it! Well, I canna afford to be sae nice in what I smell, man! Of course it stinks-but in statecraft a wise man uses his neb for sniffing out, no' for turning up! Raleigh was playing wi' fire, and burned his fingers. He maun pay for it."
"It is surely absurd to say that a man of Raleigh's stature was in this fool plot against you, Sire. If he had been, it would have been a deal better managed, I swear! I would conceive his name to have been dragged in by Cecil, who now hates him. And possibly has designs on his wealth!"
"So! Geordie Heriot would conceive that, would he? I'll note it, aye-even though it was no' the opinion o' this realm's judges, at the trial!"
"You have already said that the Lord Chief Justice Popham and Attorney-General Coke-who prosecuted viciously-are in Cecil's pocket."
"Dinna bicker wi' me, Geordie. Forby, Walter Raleigh knew o' the plot. He admitted it Even if he didna tak part. And he didna inform me o't-as was his leal duty. Whether or no' he'd have raised up Arabella, he wouldna hae minded to see me down, yon man. I see him as less noble than do you. But yet I was merciful- aye, merciful."
"Do you call it merciful, Sire, to lock up in the Tower one of the greatest Englishmen of the day? A valiant venturer and soldier, discoverer of new lands and dominions…"
"Great, d'you ca' him? The man who brought the filthy tobacco-weed to this land, taught this pestilential habit of smoking, to defile men's mouth's and lungs?" "I do not affect the weed myself-but I see little harm in it…"
"If the good God had intended us to burn deid vegetation in our heids, Geordie Heriot, He'd hae provided us wi' lums, chimneys! It's an unnatural and pernicious habit, man, and will rot the bodies o' them that partake o' it, mark my words. Hostis humani generis! I'm thinking I might mak it unlawfu'." "Would parliament agree, Sire?"
James glared at him-and then recollected that he had not yet got what he wanted. "We'll see. But… I was mercifu', as I say. I only locked him in the Tower-where Elizabeth would have had his head. Aye, and only executed the twa Jesuits and yon Brooke. Cobham and Grey and Markham, I spared. Was that no' a great mercy?"
"Since you ask me, spared after a fashion, Majesty. You had them through the pains of hell, first!"
"I didna lay a finger upon them, Geordie. I gave them a bit fright, aye-but that was for their ain good, mind. They'll no' do the like again"
After the December trial at Winchester, and the condemning to death of all the alleged conspirators, James had in fact personally ordained that Markham first should be brought to the place of execution, bid his friends farewell, ordered to say his last prayers, then lay his head on the block. With the axe actually upraised a King's messenger came running, to say that the execution was stayed for two hours, for unannounced reasons-and the wretched man hustled away. Exactly the same procedure was followed with the Lord Grey de Wilton When Lord Cobham was brought out, in turn, he had come more cheerfully-and indeed had indulged in ringing prayer for half an hour-for he had been promised his life secretly in return for implicating Raleigh and the others. Finally the other two were brought back to the scaffold and only then informed that the King, in his great clemency, had granted a pardon. All this performance James had watched with interest from a window-and moreover arranged that Raleigh should see it also, from another room, before being taken off to London Tower. England was beginning to learn that she had acquired a monarch with imagination as well as erudition.
"But I'm no' accountable to you, Geordie Heriot, for my acts and judgments," the King went on "I'm just asking that you keep your lugs open as to Raleigh's siller. What he's done wi' it And there's another thing. Elizabeth, the silly auld fool, gave Raleigh the monopoly for the licensing o' a' taverns. In a' England. Guid kens how much he made out o' it! Properly farmed it should make much. I want it looked into. What like it's worth. How it had best be worked. Who farmed it for Raleigh. Discover me this, Geordie, and you'll no' be the loser." "A large task, Sire."
"Wi' commensurate rewards, man. And I ken none better to do it" He rose. "Now-gie's your arm down yon stair. It's steep. Aye-and you'll be at the opening o' the parliament the mom's morn. It will be worth attending, I'm thinking. There will be a place for you wi' the royal household…"
The Duke of Lennox should have been sitting in his own House of Lords stall-for he had been given a peerage of the United Kingdom in addition to his purely Scottish dukedom- but he preferred to sit with George Heriot and the Queen's ladies behind the Throne Gallery, even though it meant being also in the proximity of his duchess. The Lords' hall of Westminster Palace was crowded already, even before the Commons arrived, and a great air of expectancy prevailed. It was the first parliament for five years, the first of the new reign, and it might well prove a momentous session. Queen Elizabeth had tended to alienate her later parliaments, and there was a strong feeling among many members that it would be wise to show the new monarch what the true position was, from the start.
The King was late, probably deliberately. Much trumpeting eventually heralded his arrival. Preceded by the Yeomen of the Guard and Gentlemen at Arms, the entire College of Heralds and the great officers of state, these last bearing the crown, sceptre, orb, sword and spurs of the regalia, James came in at a sort of purposeful shamble, tall stick clicking and clacking. At his side, Anne started out with a hand on his arm, but quickly found his odd and unpredictable gait impossible to approximate to, and detached herself to move along with dignity half a pace behind, leaving wary room for that waving stick. Prince Henry walked just behind, handsome in his Garter robes, self-possessed but grave.
The Lord Chancellor, now Earl of Ellesmere, in his capacity of Lord Keeper and Speaker of the House of Lords, received them up at the Woolsack, and conducted the royal pair to their twin thrones, with a stool for the heir to the throne a little to the side. James seated himself, with the usual difficulty of disposing of the long staff, and turned round to peer behind his chair to see who was there who might be entrusted with it He was having a tiff with Sir Philip Herbert about a horse race, where the favourite had said unkind things about Scots horsecopers and horse-leeches, and there had been something of a riot; Sir John Ramsey was in disgrace over an amour with the Venetian ambassador's son, and Southampton and Doncaster were duly occupying their seats on the Lords' benches. Sir George Home seemed to be the only depository-and was beckoned forward and given the staff. Then, settling back in his throne, James took off his high hat, gave it to Anne to hold, and beckoned for his crown to be brought from its cushion. He clapped it on. The Queen was already wearing her smaller one. Well content, the monarch beamed on all.
Clearing his throat, Ellesmere came forward, to bend and whisper. "The Commons, Sire. The faithful Commons." "Ooh, aye-the Commons. Have them in, man."
"His Majesty, James, by the Grace of God, King and Defender of the Faith, summons his faithful Commons to this place," the Chancellor declared in ringing tones. "My lords, you may be seated."
As officials went in search of the members of the Lower House, who normally met in the Chapter-house of Westminster Abbey, James stared about him with interest, pointing out features of the building to the Queen and his son and comparing it unfavourably with the Parliament House in Edinburgh-which of course had to be sufficiently large to hold all three estates of Church, Lords, and burgh and landward representatives, met therein together in session, not separately as here. The King made these points in loud tones, for the edification of all.
When at length, led by their Speaker, the Commons made their somewhat belated entrance-no doubt they likewise sought to establish their position and privileges-and the bowing process to the Throne commenced, the monarch smiled on them benignly, and waved a beringed hand.
"James is in good fettle," Lennox observed. "He intends to enjoy his day, I can see. Whoever else does." "You think that there will be trouble?"
'The possibility is never absent when our liege lord is about. But he is in good humour. All may be well." Before all three hundred-odd Commons finished shuffling into position in ranks at the back of the hall-there was no seating for most of them-James had had enough of waiting. He fished under his magnificent robe of state and found the speech which Cecil had prepared for him, straightened the crown on his head- he had a large head, as he said himself most apt for wearing a crown-and cleared his throat vehemently. When that failed to quell the hubbub and stir, he hawked again-Heriot feared for a moment that he was going to spit on the floor, as he had seen him do before this-and banged on the arm of his throne. This had the required effect. Of the firm conviction that wearying ceremonial should be cut to a minimum, he decided that Loyal Addresses and the like could be dispensed with and the meat of the business got down to. He licked moist lips and launched forthwith into action.
"My Lord Chancellor, honourable representatives o' foreign princes and powers, my lords and faithful Commons," he declared thickly. "We salute and greet you warmly, on this the opening o' the first parliament o' our reign." That was as far as he read from Cecil's paper-which he then laid firmly aside by tossing it on the floor. "Aye, it's a new reign, to be sure," he went on, "but it's a deal mah'n that, you see. It's a new dispensation, no less. A mile-stane, aye, a milestane in history. And a fingerpost, forby. To point the way in this new situation. Much that's auld is by wi'- and well by wi'. Much o' enmity and bloodshed and foolish bickers. We mak a fresh start Experientta docet stultos." That was received in a wary silence.
"Aye, well-here is a new kingdom, see you. No longer the Kingdom o' England. Nor yet o' Scotland. But the United Kingdom o' Great Britain, united in dynastic union in my royal person. And to be united hereafter in state, governmental and political union, indissoluble and for a' time coming."
"No! You'll no' do it No! say!" a single voice cried loudly from the back of the hall-and it was a distinctly Scots voice, so that it could scarcely have been a Member of Parliament
There was a horrified silence, and then uproar. Some applauded, some shouted at the in tempter; others, especially Puritan M.P.s, equally appalled at what the King had said about there being no longer a Kingdom of England, yelled their agreement with the protester; still others, upset at this wholesale departure from traditional ceremony into the realm of policy, exclaimed to each other. The Lord Chancellor, much agitated, held up his hands for silence and when that failed wrung them instead.
James Stewart, to whom controversy, debate, argument, were as meat and drink, leaned forward eagerly in his chair, great eyes alight, letting the hubbub ride. Then, when he esteemed it sufficient, he flicked a quick glance and nod at his principal trumpeter, who stood nearby at the ready. The subsequent bugle-blast brought down dust from the hammer-beam roof and stilled every voice.
Into the hush James spoke genially enough. "I'll do it, to be sure. Och, aye-I'll do it As is right and proper and my Christian duty, in Church as in State. Aye, we'll hae an end to disorders. This my realm maun be one realm. You canna hae me, the King and Christ's Vice-Regent, reigning at the one time ower twa warring and divided kingdoms. I am the husband, see you, and this whole island is my wife. I am the heid and it is my body. I the shepherd and it my flock. And flocks and bodies-aye, and wives too, should be dutifu'." He cast a roguish glance at the Queen, and leaned over to poke her in the ribs with his padded elbow.
Anne managed to retain an admirable impassivity of appearance.
Warming to this pleasing and vital theme, James went on, saliva copious. "I am hoping, therefore, nae man will be sae unreasonable, aye unreasonable, as to jalouse that I, who am a Christian king under the Gospel, should be a polygamist and husband o' twa wives! Or that I, being the heid, shall hae a monstrous arid divided body. Or that, being the shepherd to sae fair a flock- whose worth hath nae wall to hedge it in but the four seas- should hae my flock pairted in twa 1 Na, na-that wouldna do. A union there'll hae to be. One state, one church, one parliament, one law. You'll proceed to establish this great matter in this your first parliament, my lords and Commons. That's the first thing."
There was a spontaneous outcry now from all sides of the hall, as the shaken legislators took in what was being commanded. Having just learned how to upraise their voices in the royal presence-a thing they would never have dared hitherto-they gave tongue vigorously.
"Sakes-had you any notion that he was going to do this?" Heriot demanded of the Duke.
"No. He has talked often of the need for a union, a political union. But to thrust it down their throats, thus..! He'll have them all against him, all the factions, English and Scots both. Look at Cecil there-he's fit to burst! Look at old Nottingham-aye, look at all the Howards! And the Chancellor…"
"It is the Commons I'm looking at! They are not going to like this. Any of them. They don't want to be tied to Scotland. They will not share their privileges and wealth with us-in trade and colonies and monopolies. They consider us beggars, paupers, all but savages! And the Puritans will never agree with the Presbyterians, any more than with James's bishops. He may win over or bribe a sufficiency of the lords-but he'll never cudgel the Commons into doing his will. Certainly not by telling them what they must do and they must not, like this."
'Yet-look at what he has already achieved. The man is impregnable. Knows that he is right…"
James stopped the noise again, with his trumpeter. Now he wagged a minatory finger, the diamonds of his rings catching the light. "Ower much noise," he said. "I'll no' have it Debate is good and right But aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem! A' this din isna suitable. Like the braying o' asses! Your turn to speak will come. Meantime, you hear me, James."
Despite the drooling and the slobbers and the flapping hand, the sheer authority in that was extraordinary. None raised voice to contest it
"Aye, well. You've mair'n the union to see to, this session-plenties mair. There's to be peace wi' Spain. Aye, peace. I'll hae nae mair wars and bickers wi' my princely neighbours in Christendom. Or elsewhere, forby. War is no' only wicked, it's the business o' fools! And costly-aye, right costly, as you should ken! My Treasury is empty-empty, d'you hear? Its siller squandered on wars wi' Spain and Ireland. This England's bled white-aye, white as well as red! That's to end. Scotland's no' at war wi' either, nor yet wi' France. My United Kingdom willna be-and you'll a' profit in your pockets, I promise you! I've given orders, as is my divine right, that a' hostilities at sea cease forthwith-there's nane on land the now, anyway-for I've never been at war wi' Spain, and couldna become so by merely inheriting this English throne. Aye, and a Spanish ambassador is being received at my Court o' St. James-as at my Court o' Holyroodhouse. And one frae the Pope o' Rome, too. Aye, and the Earl o' Tyrone, the Irish leader-mannie, will grace my Court also. Parliament will draw up a' the necessar papers and the like."
The stir this time was more in the nature of a long, low growl-in fact more frightening. But clearly James Stewart did not find it so. Licking his lips, he proceeded on his appointed way.
"Anent matters o' the Church you here assembled hae nae business. That's my affair, as heid o' the Church, in consultation wi' my bishops. You'll hae heard tell I had a bit conference at yon Hampton Court-I dinna like the name Nonsuch-wi' the churchmen. That’s a' by wi'-but it is fitting, aye fitting, that you ken what's what, and that in matters spiritual this realm is now in guid hands. The bishops and mysel' are agreed right well." And he waved a conciliatory hand towards the benches of the Lords Spiritual. "There will be one Church in this United Kingdom, of which Christ is the Heid and I am His Regent-as is right and proper. I will settle bishops in Scotland-for the Scots Presbytery as well agrees wi' a monarch as God and the Devil! If they had their way then Jack and Tom and Will and Dick shall meet and at their pleasure censure me and my Council, and say it maun be this or that! Ooh, aye-we'll put an end to that! But there's bickering and unseemly strife too, see you, wi' the Puritans and Novelists on the ane hand, and the Catholics and Jesuits on the other. Aye, even in your parliament, so they tell me. Weel-that's to cease. I'll no' have it Quiet, you! I hae just put down a Catholic against my life and crown-aye, and what did parliament or my faithfu' Commons do to save me, heh? I may procure peace wi' the Pope, and welcome a Papal ambassador-but there, will be no Catholic faction and cabal in my realms, no nor Catholic public worship either. But nor will there be Puritan. In private, see you, it's different, aye different A man must can follow his conscience in matters o' religion-let there be nae doubt about that But public worship is otherwise. Persecution is one o' the infallible notes o' a false Kirk, and I will never agree that any should die for error in faith-as distinct frae treasonable attempts on my royal person, you'll ken. But one Church there shall be. The Holy Scriptures will be written oot again, plainly in guid English for a' to read and understand. And I'll expect this parliament to aid me in a', as is its bounden duty, nae less."
The commotion which followed differed from the earlier interruptions, as no doubt was intended, with men starting to argue with each other rather than railing at the King.
"That was cunning," Lennox said. "There was no call to introduce religion here. He did that of a purpose, I swear, to set man against man, Catholic against Puritan, Puritan against churchman, Scot against English. So they are less able to unite against himself. He has not forgotten what he learned in Scotland. This is as good as a play-acting!" "But dangerous," Heriot averred.
James gave this particular dose of his medicine more time to act, and then raised his hand for quiet. "I hae one final matter to express my royal will upon," he declared, jabbing an accusatory finger before him. "I am displeased, maist displeased, at the lack o' proper provision, in moneys and funds, made for mysel' and my family and household. I came frae Scotland to this England, as your due liege lord and sovereign prince-and find the Treasury empty, the realm in debt and no right maintenance, purvey and resource made for my sustenance and upkeep, and the support o' my Court and household. This was ill done. Och, a wheen great lords hae put their hands in their pouches-their deep pouches, aye-to our royal aid. But-would you hae your monarch a pauper in this rich land? Living on the charity o' lords? And Sir Robert Cecil, whom it has been my pleasure to create the Viscount o' Cranborne for leal service, has done much, right worthily. But it is parliament, they tell me, which insists, aye insists, that a' matters o' money and supply are its affair. And parliament has done nary a thing. I have been near a year here in England-and parliament hasna even met. Ooh, aye-for fear o' the plague, you tell me! But if my parliament insists on keeping a grip o' the purse strings-and, and interfering in plans o' my ain for the provision o' moneys by knighthood-then my parliament will hae to recollect its duties. We are displeased." The silence was now profound.
The King sat back, as though he had said his piece, with no more to add, straightened his crown again, crossed his legs, fiddled with his cod-piece beneath his robe and considered the golden buckle of his shoe. Then, almost as an afterthought he added, "Mind, parliament canna insist on anything, wi' me, James. Any authority, right and privilege it has, to meet, pronounce or even to exist, depends on my royal permission, good will and favour. Naught else. If you doubt me, consult your judges o' the courts, my courts. Under God, I am King, absolute and without contradiction. Aut Caesar aut nullusl The King reigns, and the King-in-parliament rules, aye. But tak the King out o' parliament and what is left? Whereas the King can rule lacking parliament-aye, and has done these five years. So-my revenues are the prerogative o' none save myself'. If I permit that parliament arranges them for me, then parliament must mak them adequate. Aye, adequate." James nodded, found it difficult with his crown, and took it off. "My stick," he said. Then he smiled round, with a sort of qualified benevolence. "Aye, then. Enough's enough. My faithfu' Commons can go back to their ain place."
There was considerable agitation at this abrupt ending of a unique interlude. The Speaker of the House of Commons was due to deliver an address of grateful thanks to the Throne for a gracious opening speech. But what he had come prepared to say hardly corresponded with the realities of the royal lecture received; moreover, the King, stick recovered, had already clapped on his high hat again and was obviously about to leave. Catching the Lord Chancellor's eye, the Speaker hurried a few steps forward, bowed deeply, and launched into a brief and entirely formal vote-of-thanks, courteous and restrained though somewhat gabbled.
James, on his feet, nodded agreeably, told his Annie to come on, and set off for the door at a fair pace. Hastily the Yeomen of the Guard raced, passing through the midst of all and sundry unceremoniously to get there first The parliament of 1604 was opened.
"God save the King!" the Duke of Lennox, in the Throne Gallery, declared. "Although, to tell truth, I do not know that divine aid is necessary I God save the parliament might be more apt"
But Heriot shook his head. "They will have to come to terms, these two," he said. "King and parliament This will not serve. James will never browbeat parliament for long. In Scotland that was possible. There the King was part of parliament, sat in it, debated with it, could dominate it-as well as arrange that his own men controlled it Here that is not possible. He can only open and prorogue parliament-he cannot sit in it He may dominate the Lords. But, his person removed from the company, he cannot control the English parliament for long."
"You may be right But it is also true what James said. That without him parliament had no authority. It is King-in-parliament that rules." "Authority, no. But influence, a vast deal. That is what I say- they need each other, and so must come to terms, one day." "Not this session, I swear!"