Unicorn Rampant (23 page)

Much impressed by his sovereign-lord's perspicacity, John made appreciative noises. But if he imagined that such considerations wholly preoccupied the royal mind, he was di
sillusioned. James turned abruptl
y and poked him in the middle with a jabbing finger.

"Now, my mannie—what's this you've been at wi' the Queen, eh?" he demanded. "For why hae you attached yoursel' to my Annie? Yesterday you marched oot o' my royal presence without leave nor allow. Yon's no' permitted and you must have kent it."

"But, Sire, the Queen summoned me. I had to go. I could not disobey the Queen's Majesty."

"Could you no', then, Johnnie Stewart? And what o' the
King's
Majesty? Whose subject are you—Annie o' Denmark's or your sovereign-lord's?"

"Yours, to be sure, Sire. But the Queen has appointed me her
Gentleman-in-Wait
ing and
..."

"Ooh, aye—Gentleman-in-Wait
ing. Man, that sounds grand, grand! But she was a wee thing late, was she no'? Were you no' my gentleman first? Who brought you to this London,
eh?"

"You did, Highness. But there seemed to be nothing for me here, nothing for me to do. The Queen said that she required me . . ."

"Impatient, eh? Impatience can be a sin, mind. I'm disappointed in you, Sir John. It wasna well done."

The young man bowed his head, tight-lipped.

"Aye, well—I'll gie you a chance to redeem yoursel', lad—even if you dinna just deserve it. I'm off to Tibbalds. But you'll bide here. You'll go and discover for me certain matters, fell important matters. About these monopolies, as they ca' them. Like the paper and the salt we considered at Edinburgh. That's what I brought you to London for, mind. See you, the monopolies here in this England are no' sae well contrived as in Scotland. I didna get my due and proper share. So you've to put that to rights, Sir John Stewart. Thae Howards are getting ower much that should be mine. They've got their long fingers in every pie! But it's gey hard to get at the figures, the details. You are to go discover them for me. Mak lists. Goods. Names. Moneys. I want to ken it all. Then I withdraw the monopolies and issue new ones. Wi' right and proper shares frr me. Somehow I maun keep thi
s ship o' state afloat, wi' yon p
arliament no' voting me the siller."

John stared. "But how am I to do this, Sire? I know nothing of it all. Where do I start? Surely some of your clerks here, your officers who know the English and their ways, would better serve . . . ?"

"Know, perhaps—but are known themsel's! I choose you because you are
not
known, man. You can learn much. A Scot concerned wi' trade. You will be that. And I can trust you—can I no'? Sae many others are in the pockets o' the Howards and their like. You're no'. Use your wits, laddie."

He wagged his head. "Where do I begin, Sire? Knowing nothing of all this?"

"Begin wi' the man Mansell. Robert Mansell. He's held the glass-making monopoly for years. The woman Elizabeth gave it to him lang syne. Through the Howards. She didna ken how to use siller, that one. She was a' for glory, was Gloriana, wi' nae money-sense. Did you ken that she left me wi' £400,000 o' debts? Guidsakes, think on that! Aye, well—begin wi' Mansell and the glass. And there's William Cockayne and thae Merch
ant Venturers, as they ca' them
sel's. They hae the monopoly o' the export o' woven cloths, for dyeing in the Netherlands. Look you into that. I was to get £300,000 frae them—and I havena' had a tenth o' it. Cockayne's the man. He keeps the Howards in siller, I swear! There's others—ships' ropes and cordage. Aye, and canvas—right lucrative. The import o' whales' oil, skins frae Muscovy and plenties more. Start wi' Mansell and Cockayne. And watch out for the Lord Treasurer's men, the Howards, laddie. You watch!"

John swallowed. "Where? Where do I do all this, Highness?"

"Go you to St Paul's. Geordie Heriot aye said that he could learn half the secrets o' this England at St Paul's!" "You mean the
church,
Sire? St Paul's Church?"

"Just that. You start there. This very day." "And, and the Queen?"

"The Queen? Och, that's your affair, laddie. If you're sufficiently unwise—aye, and if y
ou've any t
ime—to serve my Annie, after you've done
my
business, you do it, Sir Johnnie Stewart. Be her Gentleman-in-Waiting, if you must. But mind—you're my servant first and foremaist, even though you dinna tell them that at St Paul's. And I expect results. You have it? Aye, well—off wi' you."

A distinctly bemused young Scot backed out of the royal presence, and the King returned to his hole in the walling.

Making his way to Somerset House, John found the Queen still confined to bed, allegedly in much pain—although whether this was a genuine or a diplomatic ailment was open to doubt. At any rate, he saw it as adequate excuse for him to presume that he was not required there and then in any capacity, and to be able to go about the King's business without having to make awkward explanations. He did, however, seek out Margaret Hamilton to tell her of his call, in case the Queen asked about him. Directed to her chamber, in a wing of the great house, he found her with a man— from whom she somewhat hurriedly distanced herself, rearranging her neckline—a rather fine-looking man in probably his early forties, sensitive of features, slender and elegant.

Margaret quickly got over any embarrassment she might have felt, intimated that the attendance of two gentlemen might even be preferable to that of only one, and introduced her companion as Sir William Alexander of Menstrie, one of the Prince's gentlemen, now appointed the King's Master of Requests.

John was surprised. He had heard of this man. Menstrie, after all, was no more than thirty miles from Methven, near Stirling; and Alexan
der was moreover a poet of some
renown. By his appearance he had assessed him to be one of the many English exquisites with which the court abounded.

"Ah, the King's new paladin, who rescued him from unknown perils at Edinburgh!" the other greeted, smiling. He had a good Scots voice, at least. "I saw you yesterday at that peculiar wedding!"

"No doubt. I was forced to appear somewhat kenspeckle. No wish of mine, I promise you."

"Are you of the King's household, or the Queen's, Sir John?"

"I wish that you could tell me, sir! The King brought me south. The Queen said that I was to be her Gentleman-in-Waiting. And now the King requires me to serve him. It is . . . difficult."

"You are bespoke for the Queen," the young woman declared strongly. "You cannot betray her, now!"

"Our Margaret means, I think, that you are not to disappoint
her!
"
Sir William observed, with a flourish of his hand. "She is a young woman jealous for her men!"

"I
am
not one of her men, sir," John said, rather shortly. "I am merely here to inform her that, since the Queen has taken to her bed, I cannot think that she requires my poor services today. So I am off on the King's business, as he commanded. I shall call again tomorrow."

Margaret eyed him thoughtfully. "We do not know, Sir John, that the Queen does not require you this day. She may have errands for you, messages to deliver."

"Then I am sure that Her Majesty has a sufficiency of servants to act messenger. After all, she did not know that I existed two days past!"

"You are not going to Theobalds with the King, then? Since you say that you will come tomorrow," Alexander said.

"No," John agreed, but did not elaborate.

"Nor, as it happens, am I," the other informed. "Like you, I share my services. But between King and Prince. Which can have its difficulties, I agree. That is why. I am here, on Prince Charles's behalf, to his mother.
He
does not go to Theobalds. And the King, I cannot think, requires his

Master of Requests whilst chasing deer! Where do you proceed on the King's business, Sir John?"

John was cautious. "Here and there about London," he said.

"Just so. Well, I have my barge at the steps. Or, I should say, the Prince's barge. If I may convey you anywhere, sir, it will be my pleasure."

"But, Will—do you not stay?" the young woman protested. "Need you go so soon . . . ?"

"My dear Meg—I have other errands to run, on the Prince's behalf. Much as I enjoy your excellent company. Most urgently I have to call upon Charles's money-lender, in Carter Lane. Charles is ever needing siller, for the King keeps him very short
..."

So despite Margaret Hamilton's disapproval, the two men took their leave. Alexander was clearly disposed to be friendly, and John, although careful, perceived that the other could be good company and just possibly useful. So far he had made no friends since coming to London.

Sir William gestured towards the riverside steps and asked which part of London John was making for. He saw no harm in mentioning that it was the St Paul's area, and the other declared that this was entirely convenient, his moneylender's place-of-business being in that vicinity—as indeed were most of the city's trading and financial concerns.

They went down-river, then, in one of the smaller royal barges, painted with the Prince of Wales' feathers, and conversed amicably enough, both of London and of Scotland. Alexander obviously knew a great deal about England and the English, having come south in 1604, and John was tempted to seek his advice in his present quest; but he decided that he must not risk taking even the King's Master of Requests into his confidence. After all, if James had fully trusted this knowledgeable and experienced individual, why had he not given
him
the task of enquiring into the monopolies position?

About a mile down, they landed at Blackfriars and thereafter the older man conducted John through the network of narrow and seemingly mean streets until they could see the spires of St Paul's Church ahead. There the other left him to return to Carter Lane, telling him that they must keep in touch, two fellow-Scots with much in common. He said that he had always admired the Duke of Lennox and wished that the King had more close associates like him.

Unsure just what he was looking for at the great church, John was astonished at what he found. He had assumed that James meant that its environs, churchyard and even steps were the meeting-place of merchants, dealers and the like; but, although men did stand about talking outside, clearly the great numbers going in and out of the church itself were not all worshippers, by their appearance. When he ventured inside, he was almost shocked to discover that the huge building was full of men, in groups and pairs, walking up and down, sitting in the side-chapels, talking, bargaining, declaiming, even buying and selling. The noise was as bad as in any market-place. John thought of the money-changers in the
Temple
at Jerusalem. He had never heard of a Scots kirk used thus.

With no preconceived notions as to how to set about his task, he wandered around the church for some rime just looking and listening.
This
produced no enlightenment other than that innumerable deals, sales and contracts were being fixed up there and then, these sacred premises used as a centre of exchange. He heard one or two Scots voices, and eventually sought the advice of the owner of one of these.

"Friend," he said, "your pardon. I hear that you come from Scotland. Can you help me? I look for a man named Mansell. Robert Mansell. Do you know him?"

"Know him? Na, na, I dinna
know
him. It's no' for the likes o' Dand Pringle to ken Robert Mansell! But I ken
of
him. We all ken o' Robert Mansell, laddie."

"Is that so? Can you tell me, then, where I can find him? Is he here?"

"He could be—forby I've no' seen him, the day. Hae you tried yon bit chapel, yonder? St Bart's or some such nonsense, they call it. Yon's his favourite howff when he's here."

Thanking him, John made for the indicated side-chapel, one of many. Only two men sat therein, in earnest converse. When he asked if either of them was Robert Mansell, he was stared at as though witless, and then waved away with head-shakes.

He went back to the man Pringle, to ask where else he might look for his quarry.

"Och, the man has warehouses, booths and chambers all ower London," he was told. "And manufactories, forby. I'd hae jaloused that anyone seeking Robert Mansell would have kent as much! What do you want wi' him, lad?"

"I am new to London," John admitted. "And am recommended to him. Is he so notable a man?"

"He is one o' the richest merchants in all England. You must be weel-connected, young man, if you're recommended to Mansell!"

"He has the glass monopoly, I'm told?"