Nigel Tranter: The Wisest Fool

It was Alison's turn to have difficulty in finding words, something which seldom afflicted that young woman. "Oh, Majesty… I thank you! You are too good, too kind. I… I am greatly honoured. Unworthy. But… I fear… forgive me, but…" "It will not demand much of you, or your time, girl," Anne said, just a little sharply. "I have attendants amany. I know that you have Master Geordie's house to keep. Aye, and no lack of money! But it is more of a symbol than a task. And will give you the entry to Court again, at will. Not always to be brought by your husband. An Extra Woman, I said."

"Yes, Majesty. I understand. And thank you deeply. From my heart. I… I will accept, gratefully."

"I too, Madam, thank you," Heriot said. "It is generously done."

"Good. And now to the less pleasing purpose," the Queen said. She stooped and drew out a quite large leather bag, obviously heavy, from under her seat. "Take this, Master Geordie-and think better of me, the Queen, than I do myself!"

Heart sinking, he took the bag and opened it, guessing something of what was within. The glitter and gleam of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires and the sheen of gold, glowed in there. He saw a slender crown of gold, inset with pearls and enamel-work, amongst the rest He closed the bag again.

"I am at your service, Madam," he said flatly. "You wish me to take charge of these? As your Court Jeweller?" "I wish to pawn them, Master Heriot! That is all." He swallowed. "Not pawn, Majesty I Never pawn…"

"Why not? I must have money. I am desperate, man! I have nothing left I owe you what? Eighteen thousand pounds? Twenty thousand pounds? I still owe Herrick. And Gresham. I have not paid any of my household for long. I must have money. James will give me no more. I know that I am extravagant-but God held me, I am Christian's sister. Daughter of Frederick the Splendid."

"Your debt to me need occasion Your Majesty no concern at this juncture. I can wait…"

"You are patient, kind, as ever. But I must have money. It is not to be borne that I, the Queen, should be penniless. James is, as ever, away hunting. At Sherborne, this time. He has much money, these days, from the Ulster business-but talks only of asking parliament to increase my income. As though those creatures would! I must have it, Master Geordie. Even to pay for my move to Hampton Court" "How much, Madam?"

"Five thousand pounds. In coin. These are worth… more than that?"

"You shall have it tomorrow, Majesty. But… never in pawn." He stooped and pushed the bag back under her seat. 'Your Highness will keep these safe for me? It will be a loan On very good security and without interest. My humble duty. And when I have opportunity, I shall speak with the King. He calls me his Fiduciary, his man-of-affairs. I shall make bold to offer His Majesty some fiduciary advice!" Anne shook her head, wordless.

As they took their leave, the Queen said that Alison at least would not be sorry to be safely out of Scotland, in this troublous time, with all the news from the North grievous. That wicked man Gray was able to twist poor Vicky Stewart round his little finger- thanks to his infatuation with the man's bastard daughter, Mary. Patrick of Orkney was actually issuing proclamations from his cell at Dumbarton. Talk of rebellion and war was on all lips. The only virtue in it all was that Vicky at least would be less harsh on the poor and harmless Catholics than had been the evil Dunbar.

The Heriots made their way back to Cornhill and the Exchange in a state of considerable unease.

ONCE AGAIN, ALL the river traffic seemed to be heading for Hampton Court Blessedly, the May sun shone brightly and the fresh green of the trees was a joy, though there was a cool, easterly breeze-for the day-long festivities were to be held mainly out-of-doors and rain would have been something of a disaster and a move indoors a pity indeed. But the King had assured all that it would be fine weather-his colleague, the Deity and Prince of Peace, would ensure that in the circumstances-and now the May sunshine did not fail to exact tribute to the Lord's Anointed's close links with the King of Kings, his faith and claims justified. It was in every way a most auspicious occasion.

George Heriot was present partly in a professional capacity and well guarded in one of the royal barges-for he was bringing with him a very valuable cargo of goldsmith-work and plate for the monarch to present to the principal foreign guests, princes, envoys and ambassadors. For months now he had been at work on these -indeed, so large and important was the order that the Earl of Suffolk had, at the monarch's express command, issued a proclamation instructing all mayors, sheriffs, justices, bailiffs and constables to aid Master George Heriot, His Majesty's Jeweller, in finding workmen and artificers to enable him to complete his manufacture of these most important gifts and mementos in due time, a task quite beyond the resources of any one workshop or group of craftsmen. When all would be paid for was not stipulated in the said proclamation.

So, amidst the stream of barges, wherries, shallops, pinnaces and yawls, Heriot, Alison at his side and with an escort of scarlet-coated Yeomen of the Guard, bore down on Hampton Court, sitting on his precious iron-bound chest and with one last-moment additional passenger, the unpronounceably-named envoy of the Duchy of Cleves, a thick-necked, hairless little man who ho-ho-ed at everything he saw, with much pointing and waving, frequently breaking off to kiss Alison's hand ecstatically. If all the other foreign guests were as appreciative, it augured well for the day's success.

Hampton Court had been chosen for the venue for various reasons. Partly because its gardens and pleasances were much more spacious than at any of the London palaces-and it had the added advantage, for set-piece entertainments, in that there were no fewer than five internal courtyards or quadrangles, paved and with windowed balconies around, which, if absolutely necessary could be roofed over with ship's canvas to give protection against weather; partly because a whiff of the plague was again proving a nuisance in London, so that James felt in duty bound to keep his royal distance-and it would never do to have distinguished foreign visitors going home plague-stricken from His Pacific and Britannic Majesty's realms, even worse, dying on the spot; and partly in that it was necessary that a united royal front should be presented, and Queen Anne flatly refused to leave Hampton Court, where the still ailing Prince of Wales was presently confined. The Pax Britannica, therefore, would be celebrated suitably there.

It was just before noon when Heriot's party arrived and already the place bettered Clerkenwell Fair. Large crowds were normal at James's entertainments, as many as five hundred sitting down to a banquet on occasion; but this affair outdid all-as it was meant to do. It after all represented triumph, peace in Christendom-at least, as far as treaties, promises, signatures and deals could make it-for the first time in the memory of men. And all achieved by James in Majesty, God's determined and ingenious Lieutenant and Vice-Regent Admittedly it might not last, but that was all the more reason for celebrating while it did. Carpe diem etcetera. So, apart from the foreign representatives, almost everybody who meant anything in England had been invited. If there was a rather notable lack of members of parliament, that was because James had summarily dismissed that recalcitrant and awkward body of men in February and did not intend to call them together again. He had managed to find an expert financial juggler in royal prerogative powers, to raise hitherto unexploited taxation, called Sir Julius Caesar, appointed him Chancellor of the Exchequer and thankfully consigned the parliamentarians to limbo as no longer necessary. It was a pity that the Duke of Lennox and none of the Scots governmental team could be present-but they were for the moment preoccupied elsewhere.