The Wisest Fool

by Nigel Tranter

  "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 lose
r."

  "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.