Unicorn Rampant (21 page)

Appalled, the young man swallowed and gestured blindly to the nearest of all the dresses to himself, lying over a settle, a thing in pink and sewn pearls; where upon the Queen clapped her beringed hands delightedly, announced that it was quite the best choice, the youngest-looking gown there, and trust a young man to know what a woman should wear. Only, she might have difficulty in containing herself within it—this to fits of almost masculine laughter.

Her ladies shook censorious but helpless heads.

Anne insisting, she was pushed, pulled and constrained into this pink creation, amidst much royal gasping and indeed profanity. It did not take long for John to see what the Queen had meant by non-containment, for her large and sprawling bosom was alarmingly under-controlled and over-exposed, with any incautious movement liable to allow one side, or both, to bulge free.

Anne, however, presently declared herself to be satisfied, and, donning sundry ropes of pearls and a furred robe for the journey, and a high hat rather similar to her husband's, conceded that she was ready for the river.

And now a new problem delayed them. It seemed that fully a score of her ladies expected to accompany the Queen, and the royal barge just would not hold them all. There was a great to-do, and Ludovick eventually sent John to try to hire another boat locally. This proved to be quite difficult, for all who mattered in London appeared to be going to Hampton Court, and much the quickest way was by water. After considerable efforts and at some expense, he managed to engage a very indifferent wherry, smelling of fish, and manned by a ribald crew. Reaching Somerset House steps with this, he found the
royal barge gone—it was, he sup
posed, unthinkable that the Queen should sit and wait for anyone so lowly. Instead he had about ten disgruntled females, those rejected for his father's boat, to escort to Hampton in a smelly rough craft oared by leering characters outspoken with their comments.

It was an uncomfortable journey in every way.

Amidst the ladies' complaints about the wretched boat, the uncouth crew, the stink and the effect on their fine clothes, one Scottish voice sounded. This belonged to a quite handsome young woman, auburn-haired, with a bold eye and a fine figure. She came and sat beside John in the stern and seemed less critical than most of her companions. She introduced herself as a Hamilton, Margaret, daughter of the late Sir Claud Hamilton of Shawfield, brother to the first Earl of Abercorn. Her father, who had died three years previously, had been a Gentleman of the King's Bedchamber; and, left alone, her uncle had procured for he
r the appointment of Extra Maid-in-Wait
ing to the Queen. She seemed a lively and quite attractive young woman.

It was a dozen miles by river to Hampton Court and the boatmen were in no hurry, so that the journey seemed interminable and John was glad enough of the Hamilton girl's chatter, which at least passed the time and helped to insulate him from the older women's censure—for they seemed to blame him for current disappointments. Margaret, who appeared to know everybody who was anybody in London, was able to identify most of the well-dressed occupants of the innumerable other boats which passed them—and the fact that they did pass them only added to the general complaint.

At last they came to the great palace, in its magnificent gardens, which Cardinal Wolsey had built for himself and then presented to Henry the Eighth—who had later condemned him to death. Even here there was delay and frustration, with long queues of river-craft awaiting to disembark, the major portion of the landing-area being railed off for the arrival of the King's barge, James not yet having put in an appearance, although fully an hour late.

In consequence much concern and upset prevailed at the palace, with the Queen insulted, Steenie's and the bridegroom's mother, the Lady Compton, a masterful woman, in major offence, the bride's father, Sir Edward Coke, gobbling like a turkey and the groom already the worse for liquor. Ludovick was seeking to pour oil on troubled waters, with only limited success. Of the bride there was no sign.

Fortunately the royal barge, all banners and gold-tasselled awnings, surrounded by a positive flotilla of escorts including two boatloads of musicians and singers, and another with two Muscovy bears for baiting and a fourth full of dogs, arrived soon thereafter, and the nuptials could approximately proceed. Only a very small proportion of the crowd could get inside the palace chapel, of course, and John for one did not try. He went exploring the vast building, the largest that he had ever seen, and was much impressed by this at least. The furnishings, the eastern carpets, the tapestries, the paintings and statuary, were an eye-opener indeed as to what an acquisitive Prince of Holy Church had been able to accumulate.

The wedding ceremony itself must have been very brief, for a great noise drew John back sooner than he expected to the main state apartments, where the King and Queen and bridal party were now congregated in high-spirited din. Conceiving that it might possibly be expected of him, in his n
ew capacity of Gentleman-in-Wait
ing to the Queen, he made his way through the throng to a position not far from Anne's side, arousing some hostile reaction in the process. He was scarcely where he sought to be when chaos was let loose in that banqueting-hall—or, more accurately, it was the two bears which were let loose by Steenie Villiers and some of his youthful relatives, as some sort of prank, and the chaos resulted. There was a great scramble to get out of the vicinity of the lumbering animals, amidst much jostling and shouting, women screaming and John getting his first sight of the bride, a pale and anaemic-seeming creature of no more than sixteen years, as she was hoisted up on to a table-top amongst the viands and flagons, where other ladies joined her, including even her new mother-in-law, yelling shrilly as any fish-wife, at her sons.

John got himself to the Queen's side in case she required help. But the sea-king's daughter was not to be frightened by any pair of semi-tame Muscovy bears and, although looking disapproving, stood her ground. She acknowledged John's attendance with a nod but was clearly concerned with what was going on nearby.

A slight and thin young man, with rather soulful eyes above a petulant mouth, gorgeously clad in gold satin, was berating the Earl of Buckingham for this escapade, declaring it to be unsuitable and unseemly immediately after holy worship and divine service. He should be ashamed of himself, putting the bride in fear and his own mother likewise. And so on, Steenie scowling but not replying.

The objector did get his answer, however, for King James, who had been standing behind and listening, and watching with sardonic eye, suddenly stepped forward and cuffed the thin young man over the ear, and in no playful fashion.

There was an appalled silence in the immediate circle, broken by the Queen's cry of outrage. In her anger she burst forth in Danish but quickly changed to her own brand of Scots-English.

"How do you dare to do that, James Stewart!" she demanded. "Strike Charles! Strike my son—the Prince of Wales! How do you dare! And for this, this upstart!"

"Och, I dare fine, Annie—fine! I'm the King, mind—as well as the laddie's faither. I'll dae mair'n that, if need be. If this son o' your's—and mine, is he no'?—clacks his tongue in my presence, he'll do so to my liking! You hear that, Charlie Stewart?"

The prince inclined his head, lips tight.. But his mother was less easily silenced.

"You insuh my son, you insult me, the Queen! It is not to be carried, no. I will leave this place, and all these your creatures
..."

"Na, na—you'll no', Annie. You'll bide. And that's my royal command, see you. Aye, and you'll cover yoursel' better, woman; you're no' decent, for guidsakes!"

Anne drew a gulping breath—thereby exposing still more of her frontal development—but she did grab a silken shawl from one of her ladies, to wrap tightly around her.

John glanced guiltily over at his father, standing beside the King. He felt some slight responsibility for having chosen that gown.

James nodded, and turned to Buckingham. "Steenie— best you get yon critturs out o' here. You've had a sufficiency o' sport for this present. Vicky—hae these women doon off the tables—it's no' seemly. And hae nae mair skirling and yowling. We'll now eat—if we can win room on the boards for female bodies! Aye." And he tapped his hat more firmly on his head and moved round to his throne-like chair at the top table, all put to rights.

Perhaps it was as well that there had been this encounter between King, Queen and Prince, since it ensured that one of the principal problems as to seating for once did not arise. Always the matter of precedence tended to be a headache, and the Master of the Household had the unenviable task of sorting it out, never to everyone's satisfaction. This being a wedding, the matter was complicated by the claims of the principals and the bridal families. The Queen and the Prince of Wales, of course, were normally entitled to pride-of-place, even though James frequently decided otherwise. But today these two chose ostentatiously to distance themselves as far as possible from husband and father, without leaving the top table. Which was a major easement. James did not like Sir Edward Coke, the bride's father, nor Lady Compton, the bridegroom's mother—indeed he found most women unprofitable table-companions being good neither for drinking nor erudite conversation, in his opinion. He did not think much of the bridegroom either, but for the look of things put him on his right, with Steenie on his left. But there was the Archbishop of Canterbury, to make matters difficult; he would go on the other side of John Villiers, with Coke. The rest could fight it out between themselves and the Master of the Household.

This they did, with considerable argument and protest. Ludovick's services as ducal arbiter and peacemaker were much in demand. James ignored all, and began to sample the wines.

John Stewart had found himself a suitably modest place well down the hall where there was no competition, when the young woman Margaret Hamilton appeared at his side to say that the Queen required his presence up beside her at the top table.

Reluctantly he rose. He could have done without this.

He imagined that all eyes were on him as he followed the young woman up to where Anne sat with Prince Charles at one extreme end of the table. The Queen smiled on him graciously and pointed to the crosswise extremity, where presumably he was to sit. He beckoned one of the servitors to fetch him a chair, and sat, feeling very conspicuous. He had no doubt that this was not being done out of any affection or esteem for himself but merely to let the King see that the Queen had taken him over. Charles could not have looked less interested.

The Archbishop said grace-before-meat, at considerable length, seeking God's blessing on the happy couple in the by-going; James, who had started beforehand, continuing to eat and drink throughout. Thereafter the banquet proceeded, accompanied in the central space of the hall by jugglers, acrobats, dancers and music.

John had ample opportunity to survey the scene and consider his fellow-guests at this the first major function he had attended in England—for, having got him up to this prominent position, the Queen saw no need to converse with him; and, seated at the table-end, no one else was within reasonable speaking-distance save the Prince of Wales, who sulked. The bride and bridegroom he judged, perhaps unkindly, could be dismissed as nonentities, their only significance being that they were Villiers. Lady Compton, formerly Lady Villiers, was a small, waspish, determined-looking woman, notorious for her anxiety to screw the utmost adva
ntage out of the King's infatuat
ion with her second son, trying hard to have herself appointed, retrospectively as it were, Countess of Buckingham, suggesting that Steenie might well become a duke, and angling at least for a peerage for her new husband, the amiable and inoffensive Sir Thomas Compton. Ludovick said that James loathed her but believed that he could make use of her drive and ambition.

Sir Edward Coke, now large and gross, was also ambitious and had achieved much. An able lawyer, he had been one of the late Queen Elizabeth's bright young men and had been Attorney-General when James succeeded. He had risen to be Lord Chief Justice but the King never got on with him and he still awaited the peerage which normally would have come his way before this. No doubt he hoped this marriage-link with the rising star of Villiers would improve his fortunes.

Beyond the Archbishop was a darkly handsome man, all in black and gold, whom John knew to be Diego, Count Gondomar, the Spanish Ambassador, said to have an unsuitable influence on James, with whom he discussed diablery and witchcraft, astrology, mythology and the like. Gondomar was angling for a Spanish alliance—which would hopefully stop the English privateers' continuing attacks on Spanish treasure-ships from the Indies—and of course was much concerned over the outcome of Sir Walter Ralegh's venture. If Ralegh failed, all said that Gondomar would have his head.

At the far opposite end of the table was a splendidly-dressed and confident-seeming group which John assumed to be the Howards—at least he recognised one as Thomas Howard, Earl of Suffolk, Lord Treasurer and acting Earl Marshal. These had with them a most eye-catching figure, a glorious youth, clad all in pale blue satin, quite the most beautiful male John for one had ever set eyes on. He noticed that the King not infrequently looked in that direction—as indeed did Steenie. For that matter, John was equally aware that James occasionally cast his eye thoughtfully in his own direction.