Nigel Tranter - The Wisest Fool

Hurriedly, Lennox moved up to offer his arm and escort the Queen. After a momentary hesitation, Heriot and Alison brought forward the children. Garter King gave the signal for another fanfare.

Belatedly the official welcome proceeded, with addresses, presentations, ceremonial, the Queen gracious, James looking impatient, tapping his shoe-toe and stick on the ground, and the children whispering behind the thrones. The sun beat down.

At last the King could stand it no longer. Abruptly he got to his feet, waving his stick. "Enough!" he cried. "It's ower hot. I'm right tired. Enough's plenty. Ha' done, in God's name!"

"But, Sire!" Garter King, who acted master of ceremonies, protested. "The presentation. To the Prince of Wales, to be…" "Prince o' Wales? Who's that?" The herald choked. "Why, Sir-your son. The King of England's heir, if a son, is always Prince of Wales…" "No' till I make him so, man!"

"Of course, Sire. Lacking the official ceremony. But in courtesy…"

"See you-I've told you all. I'm no' King o' England. Leastways, I am, but that's no' my title and style. My throne is that o' the United Kingdom o' Great Britain and Ireland. Wi' France if you like-though yon's a nonsense. I'll hae no limiting me to this England, d'you hear?" "Yes, Majesty. To be sure."

"Aye. And the laddie's Prince o' Scotland, Duke o' Rothesay, Earl o' Carrick and Baron Renfrew. Is that no' plenty, at nine years?" "As Your Majesty wishes. And the Prince's presentation…?"

"Can wait. Harry Wriothesley-where are you? Your arm, man. My lords and gentles-I'll see you later. Aye, later. Or at the Investiture the morn. Annie-come you." And the audience very much over, the monarch stalked off, tap-tapping, uncertain as to footwork but very definite as to purpose, the illustrious, hierarchial ranks parting hastily to give him passage on his way into the castle proper. There was some competition amongst the highest nobles as to who was to be the Queen's escort, Lennox brushed aside.

"There goes the Coadjutor of the Almighty!" that young man observed, low-voiced to his friend Heriot. "By the Grace of God master of us all. Save, perhaps, his Annie!"

"But master of this England, too, I note! I said it would be the English who would have to change, not James. These haughty grandees of Elizabeth's Court will resist and struggle, but they but hatter their proud heads against our liege lord's stuffed doublet! They cannot win. For he is entirely sure of his divine right to be master, and so is unshakeably sustained, requiring to concede nothing-therefore conceding only when it pleases him to do so." "Yet he concedes more to you than to most men, Geordie!"

"Only because I require nothing from him. Not even the payment of his debts!"

"A strange position, yes. And Anne? Has she reached that good position also, think you? She is a changed woman, since her illness."

"It may be so. I think that she has chosen, now, to be queen indeed, but no longer wife. And she is a determined woman. James will have to come to some sort of terms with her-the only one he must. Anne is learning, I swear, that she is in a stronger position in England than ever she was in Scotland."

"You think deeply in that long Edinburgh head of yours, Geordie!" "I must needs sum up my customers, my lord Duke!"

The Garter Investiture the next day, 2nd July 1603, was a great success, at least as far as King James was concerned-though the Garter King and the Prelate, the Bishop of Winchester, on whom the ceremonial depended, tended to have their brows deep furrowed throughout. But that was a small matter. James had his own ideas, of course, as to how such affairs should be conducted, and if this was apt to clash with the traditional arrangements, that was unfortunate for the upholders of the latter. After all, this was a new dispensation. James enjoyed arranging things.

Garter-and not only he-was shaken from the start by the unexpected inclusion of the young Earl of Southampton in the knights to be invested, but the King insisted. James had only met Harry Wriothesley a few weeks before when, despite the plague in London, he had paid a fleeting visit to the Tower-by river, which he was assured was safer-to see and evaluate the Crown Jewels kept there, a matter much on his mind. While therein, he had received a pathetic plea from the young Southampton to let him glimpse the sun of his royal presence and lighten the gloomy cell to which he was confined on King James's behalf, even for a moment The Earl had, in fact, been involved in the late Essex's abortive rebellion against Elizabeth, when that disgraced favourite had proposed that James should enter England in 1601, at the head of an army, and insist from strength on being recognised as the Queen's successor-a plot for which Essex lost his head and Southampton went to the Tower. James, not ungrateful and always interested in young men, had acceded, and down in the grim cell was greatly struck, indeed his heart wrung, by the other's pale beauty, delicate air and sad state. On the spot he had ordered a special pardon, coupled with a command to appear forthwith at Court. Progress had been phenomenally rapid thereafter-to the distress of certain young Scots, notably Sir John Ramsay and Dand Kerr. Now the Garter was to compensate him for all his sufferings.

There were other reasons for the King's good humour, on his fine throne in the choir of the magnificent St George's Chapel. The Duke of Wurtemburg, a huge and coarse, red-faced German, was the first foreign royalty to visit the English Court on a tour of Europe since the accession, and James found his bibulous, bawdy company much to his taste. He also must have the Garter; King Christian of Denmark, Anne's brother, was to have it too, but in absentia. The Earl of Pembroke, who had also been imprisoned by Elizabeth-but for getting her Maid of Honour and favourite Mary Fitton with child, not rebellion-was the fourth knight Then there was Vicky Stewart, who certainly did not deserve the honour, but as the only duke in two kingdoms could hardly be denied it Finally, there was Henry himself, on the young side perhaps but as heir to the throne not to be outshone by his cousin Vicky.

The King, Wurtemburg and Lennox had been hunting in Windsor Great Park from 5.30 that morning-an hour far too early for Southampton who required his beauty-sleep-and had killed no fewer than seventeen fine bucks-a further source of congratulation. James and the German had been drinking steadily in consequence and celebration, since returning, and were now both in excellent trim for services of praise, thanksgiving and initiation, Wurtemburg indeed at the singing stage, joining in lustily with the Dean of Windsor's chants and intonations-and not only in the responses-while his host, eye-catching in stuffed cloth-of-gold, scarlet and purple, slapped his padded thigh and hooted, in sheer and hospitable delight The colourful but slightly stodgy ceremony had never gone so merrily before.

James was particularly pleased with young Henry Frederick's manly behaviour and appearance-even though his Garter robes and feathered bonnet were on the large side, there having been insufficient time for proper measurements and fittings. He made his bows to the high altar, under the enormous stained glass window which filled the entire eastern gable-end of St George's Chapel, with the greatest dignity-sufficiently for the King to cry out in ringing tones for all concerned to note the fact. At his side, Anne did not know whether to look proud of her son or ashamed of her husband.

The music played by the company of mixed musicians was the King's own addition to the programme, and he felt that it livened things up nicely. James was not really musical, but he could appreciate a well-going rhythm, something with a good beat to it, to which he could thump in time. Beating time here was difficult, the gold ferrule of his stick tending to slither on the tesselated marble flooring, and the skreik when that happened set the teeth on edge. The choir of singing boys' contribution was a poor second-and all the priestly yowlings were, of course, a bore.