On his master’s orders the French ambassador too became a frequent visitor at the court of Prince Henry, where he was interrogated earnestly about political affairs. The Prince was determined that England should be powerful in Europe again. Carey and the ambassador accompanied him on visits to Chatham and Woolwich to inspect the building of warships for a new navy. Yet friendship with the French King and talk of an alliance with France did not deter him from sending one of his engineers secretly to Calais to report on the condition of the fortifications. The loss of the town had rankled in England for half a century: its recovery would regain a foothold on the far side of the Channel.
The Prince’s court was staunchly Protestant and the enterprises he conceived with Carey and others were all in the Protestant cause. As with the King of France, he did not permit his mother’s conversion to alter his relations with her. They remained loving and dutiful. The Queen’s religion was unimportant to the cause, but not so the covert adherence of the Howards to Popery. Not so the growing dominance of the Spanish ambassador over the King in the conduct of Great Britain’s foreign policies. Not so Spain’s bribery of Cecil in the Catholic interest, nor the appeasement of His Most Catholic Majesty by the continuing imprisonment of Ralegh, whose estates James had confiscated and given to the odious Carr for domestic services rendered.
Drawn like bees to the hive, the surviving Elizabethan warriors crowded the corridors and ante-chambers of the Prince’s palaces. Carey’s spirits rallied in the presence of so many old companions. Under a ninth great Henry the glory of England would be restored.
With the establishment of a rival court, the King was not alone in becoming fearful of his elder son’s growing acomplishments and ambitions. Cecil found it prudent to fawn on the Prince no less than on the King. Carr was put in his place one day by a blow in the tennis court from the Prince’s racket. Even the King of Spain, the leader of Catholic Europe, took note of England’s rising star and offered him his daughter, the Infanta Anne, in marriage. In reply the Prince informed the Spanish ambassador that he would be pleased to consider the offer when Ralegh had been released.
This reply was made on Carey’s advice after much earnest consultation. His reputation stood high with the officers of the Prince’s household, who were friends from better days: Sir Thomas Chaloner the chamberlain, Sir Charles Cornwallis the treasurer and Sir John Holies the controller. A demand for Ralegh’s release had become the rallying cry of the Prince’s faction. In council the officers argued whether Carey should be despatched on an embassy to Madrid on the Prince’s behalf.
‘The King would not permit it,’ Sir Thomas warned.
‘He would not dare prevent it,’ countered Sir Charles.
‘Cecil would advise him to agree to it,’ said Sir John, ‘and then work in secret to frustrate us.’
‘If His Highness will favour me with his confidence and command me to go,’ Carey declared with fervour, ‘by God I will force those Spaniards to set Sir Walter free.’
The Prince sat at the head of the table listening to the argument. His eyes were alert and deep-set like his father’s, his hair auburn like most of the Stuarts. His pale skin and the oval of his face were the image of his mother’s. He commanded, despite his youth, and the others waited on his words.
‘I fine Sir Robert twelve pence,’ he announced, ‘for taking the name of God in vain.’
Each of Henry’s palaces contained a swear box for collecting such fines. Before the discussion could continue, Carey was obliged to deposit his shilling within.
‘England is not yet a Spanish dependency and it is not the King of Spain who must set Sir Walter at liberty,’ said the Prince. ‘Ralegh’s imprisonment is at the command of our own King. Who but my father would keep such a bird in a cage? I will speak with him myself.’
James was practised in the arts of prevarication and procrastination. It took the Prince a full two years to obtain the promise from him. During that time, flouting his father’s wishes, he made long and regular visits to the prisoner in the Tower. Ralegh became a staunch adherent and a powerful influence, and published his allegiance by dedicating his History of the World to the Prince. His support was worth having. While Elizabeth lived he had been hated as the proudest man in England: since his trial and imprisonment he had become the nation’s hero.
In the end it was Cecil who persuaded the King that to release him and allow his pride its head was the surest way to make Ralegh unpopular again.
‘Sir Walter will be a free man before Christmas,’ the Prince joyfully assured his friends one day. ‘Then he will join us in preparing for the years ahead.’
In the Prince’s presence none of his followers dared hint that, with the King’s indulgences destroying his good health, the dawn of a new age might, God willing, not be long delayed. Shortly afterwards the news of a King’s death reached them on their retreat at Nonsuch, but it came from Paris not London. James, who lived in daily fear of assassination, was safe: the assassin’s dagger had struck down Henry of Navarre in the street. The Prince wept. He felt the blow like a thrust into his own heart.
A month later, his time for initiation in government drew one step nearer. Sixteen was the age for his creation as Prince of Wales and the King had a higher honour in store. In James’s view the union of the two kingdoms was inspired from Above, and James himself was God’s chosen instrument in effecting and consummating the marriage. In other analogies he represented himself as the husband and the whole isle as his wife; the head and the two realms his body; the shepherd and all Englishmen and Scotsmen his flock. Theories of kingship were one of James’s specialities and he had once written a whole book instructing Henry how to become (in due course) a model ruler.
In practice, James’s touch was less sure, but he lost no opportunity to demonstrate and reinforce the union. England and Scotland united in James’s person had become Magna Britannia, and the coinage of both realms bore the legend: Whom God hath joined, let no man put asunder. Now his son was to become not only the Prince of Wales, the heir to England but - a title never before bestowed - the Prince of Great Britain.
The day was one of triumph for the Prince’s courtiers. Carey received the honour of a seat in his barge when he was rowed downstream in state from Richmond for the ceremony. The Lord Mayor of London waited at Chelsea with the aldermen and more than fifty barges of the City companies. Gaily decked with canopies and pennants, they escorted the Prince in splendour as far as Whitehall, where he was humbly received by the officers of his father’s household.
The creation ceremony took place in the great white chamber of Westminster Palace. There the Prince stood surrounded by men who feared him and for whom he felt little but scorn. Carey, honoured at Richmond, was rejected at Westminster: he jostled among the crowd in the street to watch the procession. It was headed by the Lord Chamberlain (a Howard) with the Earl Marshal and twenty-five Knights of the Bath. Henry, appearing tense and aloof among his enemies, was supported closely on either side by the Earls of Nottingham and Northampton, Howards both. Owing to the King’s jealousy he proceeded on foot, a state entry on horseback being forbidden lest he be seen to too great advantage.
By attaching himself to the tail of the procession, and with the aid of some unceremonial use of his elbows, Carey insinuated himself into the hall. Cecil read the patent of creation, as he had read the proclamation of James’s accession seven years before. The King then delivered it to the Prince, who bowed three times to his father and knelt before him.
The entire assembly marked the contrast between them, accentuated by the King’s drab and slovenly dress and the Prince’s handsome new mantle of purple velvet. In girding his son with the sword of state James’s hands fumbled, he slipped the ring on a wrong finger, and placed the coronet on the Prince’s head askew. Throughout, he disturbed the solemnity of the occasion by repeatedly patting Henry on the cheek, to the Prince’s open annoyance. Finally he enfolded his first born in the bear-hug of a slobbering embrac
e and they sat side by side to hear a public declaration of the new titles - as ill-assorted a pair as Carey had ever witnessed.
The King’s jealousy of his son had increased during the ceremony and it was rumoured afterwards that he regretted the whole business. Leaving Henry at the door to return to Whitehall on foot, he rode away in his carriage with Carr -his ‘sweet Robin’ - and did not re-appear for the ensuing festivities.
In Whitehall, in his absence, Henry was served and feasted like a king during three days of revelry. The Queen and Prince Charles took part in a magnificent masque performed in his honour. All the valiants at court contended in a tournament in the Tiltyard, and on the third night a mock naval battle was fought on the Thames beside the palace. Illuminated galleys attacked a castle specially built in the middle of the river, until it surrendered in a brilliant display of fireworks.
For those like Carey, who wished to pay court to Henry as a real king, the flattery of the revels was hollow and false. However obsequious the attentions of James’s courtiers to the Prince of Great Britain, their true interests lay elsewhere. How far and how fast could they be expected to transfer their allegiance from Cecil and Carr, from the Catholic cause and the Spanish alliance? They were dissemblers all.
Apart from Cecil, the arch-dissembler himself, none could out-dissemble the Howards, and among that family none could rival Henry Howard, who had been rewarded with the earldom of Northampton for his secret part in bringing James safely to the English throne. Cecil left the festivities on the first day, humbly excusing himself on grounds of pressing business. His withdrawal was calculated to please the King, and spies would report whatever he needed to know of the goings-on. In this place the Earl was assiduous in attendance on the Prince. Carey watched his every move with deepening mistrust. The liveliest cause of his suspicion was the Earl’s companion, a young kinswoman whose shining beauty was scarcely matched by her reputation.
Frances was the daughter of Thomas Howard, Earl of Suffolk, who as Lord Chamberlain in succession to Carey’s father and brother was busily mismanaging the affairs of the royal household. As a child she had been married to the son of Elizabeth’s favourite and Carey’s captain, the executed Earl of Essex. The matchmaker in this union of the house of Howard with the heir of a man they had brought to the block was James himself, playing unsuccessfully at reconciliation. Immediately after the wedding Frances had been reclaimed by her mother, and the young Earl had taken himself abroad.
When the bride grew to maturity the groom showed no inclination to return and consummate the marriage. Others were not so slow. Consummation occurred instead with the aid of a succession of eager proxies, none authorized but all made warmly welcome in the bride’s bed. Rumour had it that the warmest reception was accorded to Viscount Rochester, the King’s sweet Robin. Whether Frances acted in this from lust or policy was an open question.
The Prince made a more tempting prey by far than Rochester. Carey noted how cleverly the young Gountess played her game under the seasoned guidance of Northampton. At each ceremony her father’s officers arranged the seats so that she sat between the two of them. Sometimes she chattered and laughed for all to overhear; at others she smiled secretively and whispered like a conspirator in the Prince’s ear. Every movement of her eyes and lips served to entice him. Her hand was for ever touching his between the chairs as though by accident. Beneath pearl-strewn hair and above a stiff lace ruff her face shone as pure and bright as that of a cherub painted by Raphael. Less purely but no less brightly her bosom was bare of all but diamonds: a low-cut dress exposed her small rounded breasts almost to the nipple. Among the knowing lechers of the king’s court bets were laid that when the dancing commenced they would bounce out wild and free, like tennis balls, for Henry to catch, caress and return.
Seeing the Prince grow responsive, Carey urgently sought Sir Thomas Chaloner and took him outside to warn of the danger.
Sir Thomas shook his grey head unperturbed. ‘If I recollect my own youth aright,’ he replied, ‘sixteen is not too young for love. The Prince is ripe for women: would you have him like his father?’
‘I would have him love any woman but this one.’
‘Even if this is the one on whom his heart is set?’
‘Especially so. He must be stopped or she will poison him.’
Carey’s mounting passion made Sir Thomas frown. He turned away and stared across the water towards Lambeth. The fireworks were over and the sound of music told them that dancing had begun inside the palace. Everyone had gathered in the banqueting hall and they were alone leaning on the balustrade overlooking the river.
‘Answer me one question,’ Sir Thomas demanded at last. ‘Could anyone have stopped Sir Robert Carey when he fell in love with Elizabeth Trevannion?’
‘The cases are different,’ answered Carey. ‘I was not a prince, nor Elizabeth a whore. Can you not understand that, if this shameless creature succeeds in seducing him, the Prince will become a laughing-stock? Our idol will have fallen, his reputation muddied by hers. How the King’s companions will delight to sneer! If I know the Howards, they will even be plotting a divorce so that yet another of their family may be crowned Queen of England.’
‘I have spoken with the Prince. His mother the Queen has done likewise. He is headstrong and will listen to neither of us. Frances Howard has bewitched him - his heart is fired and the flame cannot be quenched until he beds the wench. But you exaggerate the consequences.’
‘Never underestimate a Howard. Essex, my captain, made that mistake, and where is he now? No, if you will not prevent the Prince I will find a way.’
‘If the Queen cannot, no man can. She even told him, on my suggestion, that the Countess was Carr’s paramour.’
‘And that did not cool his lust? Did not the prospect of coupling with the mistress of his father’s bedfellow deter him?’
‘The Prince did not believe his mother: he took it for part of her spite against Carr and the Howards. There is nothing more to be attempted. We must trust to his good sense.’
‘He is restless and feverish with youth. He requires a helping hand on the reins. The King is no father to him - as chamberlain of his household the responsibility is yours. You cannot stand aside and watch his ruin. I would not suffer such a thing if it were his brother.’ Never before had Carey regretted so deeply that the household he controlled was the younger brother’s and not that of the heir.
‘Prince Charles is a child and poor-spirited,’ Sir Thomas replied. ‘Henry has long outgrown a governor, as you well know.’
The chamberlain took his leave, aggrieved. Carey shrugged his shoulders and dismissed him from his thoughts. In such a matter he cared nothing for another’s feelings. Below, at the foot of the steps, a royal barge was being prepared. He called down to discover whether it was Henry’s: a boatman called back that the Prince was leaving for Richmond that night. In female company, he added with a wink. He gestured towards the sky and uttered an obscenity, indicating that the moon was full and the night and his cushions made for love.
The hall was thronged with revellers. Carey stood in the doorway, squat and scowling like a messenger from Jehovah surveying the city of Sodom. A space had been cleared in the centre, and there Henry and his Howard danced in freedom. Their cheeks were flushed, their eyes interlocked. Their young bodies clung together. The Earl of Northampton was nowhere to be seen: he had done his work and retired to bed.
Carey did not hesitate for more than a few seconds. He roughly threaded a path through the swaying crowd and abruptly interrupted the dance by kneeling in the Prince’s path. The Prince halted, disconcerted, and demanded to know his business.
‘I crave Your Highness’s pardon, but I am entrusted with an urgent communication for the Countess of Essex and seek Your Highness’s permission to deliver it.’
‘You may do so.’ The Prince nodded impatiently, anxious to proceed with the revel. ‘Pray hand it to the Countess and leave me.’
‘I crave pa
rdon a second time, but the message is confidential and by word of mouth.’ Carey raised his eyes and stared the Countess in the face.
The crimson of her flush deepened, but she accepted the challenge. He had allowed her no choice. With the bows of the musicians at rest until the Prince was ready to dance again, the whole court was peering and agog.
‘You may speak in public,’ she snapped with a defiant tilt of the head. ‘I have no secrets from His Highness.’
Carey, still on his knees, made a great pretence of reluctance. ‘I was cautioned most severely to discharge this duty in private,’ he muttered.
‘Then I beg you -’ the Prince began, but the Countess interrupted him in a pet.
‘I insist on this fellow speaking here and now. How can he have anything to say which would offend Your Highness? I will hear him.’ This time it was she who challenged Carey. Her voice warned him unmistakably of the dire consequences of ill-timed words, and he was ‘this fellow’, not ‘Sir Robert’.
He accepted the challenge before she could change her mind. ‘The message comes from my lord of Rochester: he bids you on no account overlook your meeting with him tonight.’ For appearance’s sake Carey spoke low, but not so low that the words did not reach the Prince and others standing near at hand.
‘A meeting with Robin Carr tonight!’ A tigress surprised, her astonishment became fury in an instant. ‘For what purpose pray? What manner of fabrication is this?’ She spat at him as she spoke.
‘His lordship did not enlighten me as to the purpose, but he bade me assure your ladyship that the arrangements would be similar to those at your other meetings and - he most earnestly trusts - to your entire satisfaction.’
Now Carey dared not look up. Since the old Queen’s death he had trembled before no woman, but he could feel the Countess’s wrath on his neck sharp as the edge of an axe.
Disgrace And Favour Page 11