Unicorn Rampant (20 page)

At length they turned in from the Thames to
the palace, through a vast tilt
ing-yard flanking splendid gardens out of which rose no fewer than thirty-four stone columns, each topped by a heraldic beast. Whitehall looked almost like a town of itself, huge, sprawling, with liveried guards and attendants everywhere, musicians playing, courtiers
milling
around and confusion reigning. Sundry great lords were already greeting the monarch as John rode up, and he heard them acquainting James with what presumably was the latest news—Queen Anne was unwell again at her own palace of Somerset House; Charles, Prince of Wales, was at Theobalds Park, or Tibbalds as the King called it; the Earl of Pembroke had suffered a fall from his horse and damaged his shoulder; the Attorney-General, Sir Francis Bacon, had produced a new addition to his essay on the
Advancement
of
Learning,
dedicated to His Majesty—but was at the same time condemning the system of monopolies. And so on. . James seemed interested in little of this, although he frowned darkly at the monopolies item. As for his wife's health, he declared that it would just be the gout, and hadn't he himself been suffering from the
same disorder all the way from
Carlisle, and that compounded by the arthritis, forby? What he
was
concerned with was whether that limmer Walter Ralegh was returned yet with his treasure from yon Orinoco place? That was fell important. The information that there was no word of Ralegh yet sent James stamping into his palace, muttering.

John was fortunate in being able to obtain a room in his father's quarters in Whitehall, for despite its size the palace was apparently full to overflowing, and the King was not the man to demean himself by finding accommodation for hangers-on. Except for the Villiers family, that is. An entire clan of them seemed to have taken up residence, mother, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts and cousins, to the undisguised disgust of most of the court, especially of the Howard faction, who were also there in strength and sounding so greatly more important, the most illustrious house in England even if somewhat waning in influence.

John quickly learned that the Palace of Whitehall was in fact something of a battleground and that the wise newcomer would be well-advised not to get involved if he could help it. The main factions were the Howards and the new Villiers and their supporters; but there were others also, at differing levels, all seeking to attain power and prestige by influencing the King. At first John was looked upon by almost all with grave suspicion, as yet another personable you
ng man to whom James had presumab
ly taken a fancy. But the fact that he was the Duke of Lennox's bastard and therefore in some sort of blood relationship to the monarch, helped, especially as Ludovick was assiduous in letting it be known that James was not interested intimately in his new courtier.

In fact James did not appear to be interested in the newcomer in any other way either, as the days passed. If the King was aware of his presence in the palace he did not show it. John asked himself, and his father, why he was here at all, what was the point in bringing him all this way just to ignore him? The Duke said to be patient, James would call for him in due course—whereupon John perversely wondered whether he would not prefer just to be forgotten and rejected so that he could go home to Methven unhindered. He was, of course, in a distinctly disillusioned frame of mind these days. Janet Drummond, although unreachable and so very far away, was seldom long out of his mind.

The fact was that the King, as well as suffering from his gout and arthritis, had returned to two pressing and immediate concerns. One was a quarrel with his Privy Council over money, or at least the means of raising it—for parliament still continued to keep the royal purse-strings tight; and this of Bacon's campaign against monopolies was very relevant. The other was the marriage of Steenie's brother John Villiers, which James had promised to stage, if that was the word, and for which the most ambitious plans were well ahead—and which was going to cost a lot of money, nothing apparently being too good for Steenie and his family. These preoccupations helped to explain James's disappointment that Ralegh had not yet returned from Spanish America with the ships' loads of gold and treasure which he had promised to bring the monarch, in exchange for his freedom from the Tower of London and sentence of death. The wedding had been fixed for 29 September, at Hampton Court Palace—part-reason for some of the haste of the return journey from Scotland—and all the court was commanded to attend. John could not understand why the King should be so concerned about this marriage of a young man whom he himself termed a witless loon, to a daughter of a man whom he had always disliked, Sir Edward Coke, formerly Lord Chief Justice. His father explained. Apart from the fact that James doted on Steenie, the bridegroom's brother, politics and rule entered into this. The King was anxious to limit and indeed reduce the enormous power and influence of the Howard family and their allies, who between them controlled far too many of the high places of state, with no fewer than five earldoms and the suppressed dukedom of Norfolk. The last favourite, Carr, Earl of Somerset, was their nominee, married to one of them, and he was now in the Tower, after scandals a
many. James was now seeking to raise up a new dynasty, dependent upon himself—as the Howards were not—to counter their influence and wealth. But shrewdly he did not want this to
replace
the Howards in entrenched power, so he was using the comparatively humble, little-known and not notably clever Villiers tribe, whom he could manipulate and use, and when necessary put down again, without difficulty. He had learned the lessons of divide-and-rule in a hard school, in Scotland. This wedding was a step along that road.

Just how important a step James considered it to be was demonstrated the day before the ceremony, when the monarch sent for Ludovick Stewart and commanded him to repair to Somerset House and escort Queen Anne to Hampton Court. He added that Annie likely would be stickit and awkward, for she did not want to go, being wickedly incommodious towards Steenie. But she was to be fetched, willshe, nillshe—and Vicky was the only one to whom he could entrust the task. She must attend.

So to Somerset House the Duke went, that same day, and John with him. Anne of Denmark had had her own palace and small court for years now, in general distinctly out-of-sympathy with her husband and his ways—as perhaps who will blame her? She went her own way, was not always the soul of discretion and was wildly extravagant; but she was the Queen and, almost more important, the King of Denmark's sister—and had to be humoured to some extent. But every now and again James put his foot down, as on this occasion.

John found the Queen to be of middle years, growing plump, plain of feature and with a long pointed nose, but autocratic of nature—and not very welcoming on this occasion, since she well knew why the Duke of Lennox had come. Normally she got on well enough with Ludovick— who was admittedly easy to get on with.

"You are sent to drag me to this stupid wedding, Vicky Stewart," she declared, at sight of them. She had never lost her foreign accent, but overlaid by a Doric flavour from her years in Scotland, a curious blend resulted, often quite unintelligible to English ears. "I do not wish to go. I am indeed
unable
to go, a sick woman. You may tell James so. Not that he cares for my state."

"I am sorry to hear that, Your Majesty—the more so since you look so well," the Duke said, diplomatically. "No doubt it is your spirits which are low. The wedding will do you much good, I swear. There will be much to entertain, masques and play-acting, dancing and pageantry—all to Your Majesty's taste."

"Perhaps. But I shall not be there!"

"Surely you will come, Anne? If only for my sake! For James will never forgive me if I do not bring you. He said as much."

"Why does James want me to go there? He requires no wife, with those shameless young men! I am not to be insulted so. Who is
this
young man whom you have brought here? Do not say to me that you too, Vicky Stewart, have become so, so . . ."

"This is my son. By Mary Gray, whom you know, Anne. John—Sir John Stewart of Methven, now Keeper of Dumbarton Castle."

"So—your by-blow, is it? And so good to look at! Mary Gray I remember well, a woman of much worth and cleverness—despite her father, the man Gray."

"Yes. Although Patrick had his points, see you."

"You, young man—what brings you to London? Not King James's favours, I hope, no?"

Embarrassed, John looked away. "No, Your Majesty. Or . . . not that, no. The King has been kind
...
or, leastways, gracious. I, I. . ."

His father came to his rescue. "John was privileged to do James a useful service. More than one. At Edinburgh. James insisted that he came south with us."

"Ah. And what does he find for you to do, in this wretched London, young man? No good, I would jalouse." That sounded odd on guttural Danish lips.

"Nothing, Majesty," John told her, simply.

"Nothing? He has nothing for you?"

"No doubt in time James will find occupation for him," Ludovick said.

"But what occupation? I do not trust James's occupations for young men. I have it better, yes. You will come to me, Sir John. Yes, that is it. I could use so goodly a young man in this Somerset House. I have too many women here. And old men whom James he has sent to spy and keek upon me.

Evil old men! That is it, yes—you will come to me, Mary Gray's son, Patrick Gray's grandson. To be one of my gentlemen. How say you?"

Bewildered, John stared first at the Queen and then at his father.

That man looked thoughtful. "This is kind, Anne—but requires thinking on," he said. "James might not like it."

"James! James has eyes only for those odious Villiers! The King has not offered you any position at court, Sir John? Nor employment?"

"No-o-o. Save this of Dumbarton Castle, Highness."

"That is in Scotland, not London. So—all is well. I offer you position first—Gentleman-in-Waiting. You cannot refuse—it is the will of your Queen! You shall wait on me, Sir John Stewart, and we shall do most well."

John looked uncertain.

Ludovick proved himself to be something of an opportunist. "If that is Your Majesty's will and command, I am sure that my son will feel honoured. And will accompany you to the wedding tomorrow. It will be a good opportunity for him to commence his service."

The Queen considered the Duke narrowly and then shrugged. "Very well," she acceded. "Sir John, you will attend me tomorrow, to Hampton Court. I shall, I think, not remain there long. Thereafter you will make your biding here at Somerset House, as one of my household. You understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said, if doubtfully.

They withdrew.

On the way back westwards to Whitehall, the Duke sought to reassure his son—who suspected that he might have been sacrificed in order to get the Queen's agreement to attend this wedding. But his father said that this appointment to Anne's household might be an excellent development, not only giving John employment and added status but possibly would draw James's attention to his neglect, and produce some advantage in that quarter. He was amused that his son seemed to have this facility of making swift good impressions upon Queen as well as King. What was the secret of it?

The younger man did not know, nor consider it much of an asset.

So the next forenoon father and son embarked on one of the gaily-painted and canopied royal barges, at the Whitehall steps, manned by the King's liveried watermen, and were rowed in state down-river the mile or so to Somerset House again. Ludovick had decided to come along too, partly because that had been James's original command, but also in case Anne turned difficult and John could not cope. As a personal touch he hired four musicians, with lute and flute, to accompany them, and these practised their repertoire on their brief eastwards journey.

They found Anne not resiling on her commitment but far from ready to go. Indeed the Stewarts were ushered, presumably on royal command, directly into the Queen's bedchamber, where they found her, in a state of undress, being prepared for the occasion by a twittering clutter of females and as yet undecided as to which gown she was going to wear—a situation which obviously held no embarrassment for Anne, who whatever else she was, was no prude, however much it disconcerted her new gentleman. Clearly they were not going to get away for some time, and the Duke grew a little anxious, which was not like him, for the wedding ceremony was due to start at one hour after noon. James, of course, might himself be late, as he so frequently was, having little regard for mere time—but on the other hand he might be early, in which case all would have to begin forthwith.

The Queen, practically naked as to her top half, and no very delectable sight, demanded of all present which she should wear of fully a dozen splendid gowns laid out—which evidently she had been doing of her flock of ladies for some time previously—and the Duke, to save further debate, chose a heavily-jewelled confection in purple taffety, Anne being partial to jewels on a daunting scale. However, this was laughed to scorn as dowdy, ageing and quite inappropriate. Whereupon Anne pointed to John and declared that her new Gentleman-in-Waiting should choose.