Unicorn Rampant (37 page)

The bewildered new knight rose but stood as though rooted to the spot.

James thrust the dirk back at John, blade first, and wheeled his horse round. "Enough o' this," he jerked. "Come you, Johnnie Stewart—I'm hungry."

As they rode back towards the palace, the King beckoned John closer and at the same time waved more illustrious folk back.

"You'll be wondering why I knighted yon tink, I've nae doubt? If you're like your faither, maist like you'll be judging that it wasna weel done, debasing the honour o' knighthood for a stupid bit whim. Eh?"

Since that was exactly what John had thought, he could scarcely deny it. "I
...
ah
...
no doubt Your Majesty had your own reasons," was the best that he could do.

"I had that. Just as I had when I knighted
you,
Johnnie Stewart! Mind that. See you, there are two-three fine fowl in this company behind us who reckon that they are entitled to honours frae me. No' for anything byordinar they've done, but because o'
who
they are. Yon Jermyn wants a knighthood for his son—and forby reckons he himsel' should be upped frae baron to. viscount. He's aye at Steenie to persuade me—pays Steenie guid siller for it! And Harry Cooper, him that's Deputy-Wardrober, is another—he would bribe any close to me to get him made Sir Harry. Och, I ken fine what they're at. So
I teach them that I honour who I
wish, no' them. And that nane can rely on advancement because o' who or what they may be. You tell Vicky that, or he'll be at me again ower this, for certain sure. He's a' right auld wifie, some ways, is Vicky Stewart!"

"He
...
he greatly regards Your Majesty."

"Aye, weel—maybe. Anyway—keep you an eye on our tinkler-knight, if he bides about Tibbalds. I may hae uses for the likes o' him
..."

13

Strangely, it was not at court but on one of his trips to St Paul's, to keep in touch with the Merchant Venturers over the Scots paper-supply situation, that John got his first news about Sir Walter Ralegh. He found the great church buzzing with talk and speculation, most of which was incomprehensible to him. He knew of the great, veteran wit and explorer, of course, one of the few surviving ornaments of the Elizabethan galaxy; knew that he was out of the country; but had not heard him referred to of late. He sought enlightenment from Elias Woolcombe.

That cheerful character told him, almost with relish, that it looked like disaster for Ralegh this rime. That his ship, from the Americas, had limped into a West Country port, and with a tale of woe. The Orinoco adventure was a failure, it seemed—and heads would fall, Ralegh's own amongst the first, for sure. Not wishing to betray his ignorance, John did not question further. He had heard nothing of this from his father—but presumably these Merchant Venturers had sources of information denied to others.

Back at Whitehall, he told the Duke—and was surprised at that man's reaction, he who was usually so imperturbable. Ludovick was much upset. If this was true, he said, there would be trouble, serious trouble.

When his son expressed incomprehension, the other explained. Ralegh was a great man, yes, but not always wise. In 1604 he had got himself involved in the so-called Main Plot, a conspiracy to depose James and put Arabella Stewart, his cousin, daughter of Darnley's brother, on the throne. It was a stupid business, and came to nothing—save for the deaths of the major plotters. Ralegh himself was condemned to death but the senten
ce was never carried out—mainly
because James feared popular anger, for Ralegh was then beloved by the people, a notable figure. So he had been merely confined in the Tower, a long imprisonment, but in not too grievous conditions. John must have heard of that?

It was James's chronic shortage of money which got Ralegh out of the Tower. He came up with a scheme for an expedition to the Orinoco River, in South America. He had been there in 1595 and had heard about an Indian city, up-river, where the streets were literally paved with gold— Manoa, it was called. AO the natives knew of this place, apparently. If he could sail out there and take his ships up the great river, he could fill them with gold, silver and jewels sufficient to solve all the King's money problems.

James had been doubtful. George Heriot, his banker, had advised against it as an impractical dream. Also James's friend, the Count Gondomar, the Spanish Ambassador, who saw it as an infringement on the King of Spain's territories. But, as the financial situation got worse, and the Scottish visit was planned—and going to cost a great deal— parliament in its running battle with the monarchy refusing all provision, and Heriot dying, James agreed to allow Ralegh his attempt. At least, he said, he would not have the expense of keeping the man in luxury in the Tower. Ralegh could fit out an expedition—at his own expense. But he was not pardoned. If this proved to be a wild-goose-chase, he would pay for it in more than expenses!

John still did not see why his father should be so concerned, even if the expedition
had
turned out a failure and Ralegh had to go back to his Tower. It was scarcely an earth-shattering development?

Was he overlooking the Spanish situation, the Duke asked? That had developed much in the meantime. James was now eager for Charles, Prince of Wales, to wed the Infanta of Spain, with her dowry of £600,000—which was to come to
him,
not to Charles! The Spaniards did not like Ralegh, who had plundered their shipping in the past, and disapproved of this entire expedition. They looked on South America as theirs, even though they had done little about it. So long as Ralegh was successful, James was prepared to risk Spanish displeasure—but he did promise Philip that, if Ralegh so much
as
harmed one single Spaniard on the venture, he would send him in chains to Madrid for Philip to hang! So, failure could mean dire trouble—and not only for Ralegh.

They debated as to whether John should go to tell the King about what he had heard, since fairly obviously no word of it had yet reached court. But, on the principle that bearers of ill-tidings were seldom popular, they decided to let James find out from his own sources—which no doubt would occur soon enough.

Meantime, John was despatched on a mission to Hampton Court, where Queen Anne had been taken—Oatlands having proved too 'exposed'. Anne's condition was giving continued cause for anxiety—especially on the financial aspect, as far as her husband was concerned—and he wanted something positive done about the jewellery. James calculated that she had spent over £300,000 on jewellery with George Heriot alone, and, although she had undoubtedly given much away, much must remain. Somehow this had to be saved before, as the King put it, the rats got at it. John was to go and see Margaret Hamilton again, apparently the only possible weak link in the Queen's household.

This
time he travelled up-river in better style, in one of the King
's
barges. But he found Hampton Court very different from heretofore. The great house seemed almost dead, with the Queen and her reduced staff roosting in only one corner of it. The air of gloom was tangible.

Margaret was delighted to see him and made no secret of it. She was distracted with boredom, she announced, tired to death of sickness, crabbed, aged, haughty females, hushed voices and general misery. This vast empty palace was worse than Oatlands. There was no company for her, no young people anywhere, nothing for her to do. Where had he been all this time? Why had he not come before? He had promised that he would speak for her to the King. She had looked for him, for weeks.

John sympathised with her—and his sympathy was genuine. For he could imagine few fates less tolerable for a lively young woman than to be entombed in this huge echoing house with a dying Queen and her sour and anxious ladies.

Margaret wanted more than sympathy, however, and almost dragged him off forthwith to a far wing of the palace where, in a chamber with a large bed, already somewhat rumpled he noted, she only paused in flinging off her clothing to help him discard his, entirely single-minded about the business.

After an active, indeed almost breathless but admittedly pleasurable half-hour, during a lull, he revealed his present mission.

"I would think that the King would have more to worry about than a few jewels! The state of his own wife's health, for one thing."

"Yes, it is strange. But—he is a strange man. And desperately in need of moneys, it seems, always. It is one long battle with parliament, over funds. Things are done differently here than in Scotland. Anyway, he needs money. And reckons that the Queen's jewels should be worth as much as £200,000."

"All that? But they
are
the Queen's jewels, not his."

"He says that the Queen, in her present state, can have no need for jewellery, nor interest in it."

"I
say that he is a cold-hearted monster!"

John stirred uncomfortably beside her. "I do not like it, my own self. But he is no monster, however strange. He sees things differently from others. Perhaps all kings do. But—well, that is no business of ours. He is the King and we must do as he tells us."

"You must, perhaps—not I."

"You are his subject also, are you not?"

"What does he want of me, then?"

"He says that you must know where the Queen
keeps
her jewels. And are in and around her rooms every day. It should not be difficult for you to, to move them. Or some of them. A little at a time. Without it being noticed. To, to somewhere else. . ."

"Into the King's hands, you mean? Steal the Queen's jewels? I, her own Maid-in-Waiting!"

"Not steal. Abstract was the word he used! He is a great one for words, is James. It is to save them, so that the
wrong
folk do not steal them."

"I mislike this. If I do, what reward will I receive?" "The King says that some position at court will be found for you."

"He does? What position?"

"He did not say what. But something. He will show his gratitude.
Do
you know where the jewels are kept?"

"Oh, yes. Or some of them. It is no secret. They are in a dressing-room off the Queen's bedchamber. Along with her gowns. But to get them will mean to get past Danish Anna."

"She it is James distrusts most of all. She cannot always be on watch."

"She sleeps, after midday, for a while. They all do. This place is like a kirkyard, then! It would have to be done very gradual. A little at a time
..."

"Yes—the King understands that."

"The great and favourite pieces would have to remain. On top. So that the loss of the others might not be noticed."

"The Queen will not inspect her jewellery now? When she is so ill?"

"No-o-o. But I do not know how often Anna may do so. As personal maid. She may deem it her duty. Indeed I have seen her wearing some of it, at times—the odd piece. Perhaps with the Queen's permission. They are close, both Danish."

"Aye—that is partly what troubles the King. What of the others? Her ladies, the countesses
...
?"

"I think that none would touch anything—meantime. But when the Queen is gone .
..!"

"Exactly! You will admit that James has reason for his fears. So you will help?"

"I will try. On condition that you, or the King, find me a place at Whitehall. And a good place. But, see you—it occurs to me, John, that
all
the jewellery will not be here. It was not all taken to Oadands. A deal must still be at Somerset House. The Queen was ill when she left there and has been ever since. Abed, not wearing jewels. So much is probably left."

"Ha! That, now, will interest James."

"Yes. Well, re
member to tell him that it was I who told
you! Now—enough of that." Her hand became busy under the bed-covers, and John had to put aside state
craft and high finance for the t
ime-being.

That his representations had not been wasted, however, was proved before he had to leave for his down-river journey. Presently Margaret left him on the bed, saying to wait there and she would endeavour to find some food and wine before he went. Nothing loth, he lay—for it had been quite an exhausting interlude, what with one thing and another—and indeed he dozed over before the young woman returned. She bore a flagon of wine and some wheaten cakes and cheese, very acceptable. But, even more so, she presented him with a pearl necklace, a couple of diamond brooches and four gold rings, to take back to the King. Having been to the kitchens, she had gone upstairs to the Queen's suite, found all there having their afternoon sleep, including Anna Thorsten, and had taken the opportunity to slip into the dressing-room and 'abstracted' these items from one of the many drawers full of jewellery.