Earthly Joys Read online

  March 1625

  John was working late. The duke had ordered a watercourse to flow from one terrace to another and it was his fancy that in each terrace there should be a different breed of fish, in descending orders of colours, so that the gold – the king of fish – should only swim in the topmost pool near the house. The garden around it was to be all gold too, and it was to face the royal rooms that King James used on his visits. Tradescant had sent out messages to every ship in the Royal Navy commanding them to bring him the seeds or roots of any yellow or gold flowers they saw anywhere in the world. The Duke of Buckingham ordered the highest admirals in the Navy to go ashore and look at flowers that John Tradescant might have his pick of yellow flower seeds.

  It was a pretty idea and it would have been a delightful compliment to His Majesty, except Tradescant’s goldfish were as elusive as swallows in winter. Whatever he did to the watercourse they slipped away downstream and mingled with the others: silver fish on one level, rainbow trout at the next, and dappled carp on the fourth level, who ate them.

  Tradescant had tried nets, but they got tangled up and drowned themselves, he had tried building little dams of stones, but the water became sluggish and did not pitter-patter from one level to another as it should. Worse, when the water was still or slow it turned green and murky, and he could not see the fish at all.

  His next idea was to build a little fence of small pieces of windowglass through which the water could flow and the fish could not swim. It was a prodigally expensive solution – to use precious glass for such a fancy. Tradescant scowled and placed the small panes – each one carefully rounded at the corners so as not to cut the fish – in a line, with only a small gap for the water to flow between each. When he finished he stood up.

  His feet ached with standing in the cold water, and his back was stiff with stooping. His fingers were numb with cold – it was still only March and there were frosts at night. He rubbed his hands briskly on the homespun of his breeches. His fingertips were blue. He could hardly see his work in the failing light but he could hear the musical splashing of the water flowing down to the next pool on the next terrace. As he watched a goldfish approached the fence of glass, nosed at it, and turned back and swam towards the centre of the pond.

  ‘Got you!’ Tradescant grunted. ‘Got you, you little bastard.’

  He chuckled at himself and clapped his hat on his head, picked up his tools, and set off for his shed to clean and hang them before he went home for his dinner. Then he stopped, listening: a horse, galloping at high speed, up the long spectacular winding drive and at full pelt to the front door of the house.

  The messenger saw Tradescant. ‘Is His Grace at home?’ he shouted.

  John glanced towards the brightly lit windows of the house. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘He should be dining soon.’

  ‘Take me to him!’ the man ordered. He flung himself from his horse and dropped the reins, as if the high-bred animal hardly mattered.

  John, wrenching his mind from yellow flowers, snatched at the reins and called for a groom. When one came running he handed him the horse and led the messenger into the house.

  ‘Where’s the duke?’ he asked a serving man.

  ‘At his prayers, in his library.’ The man nodded towards the door.

  John tapped on the door and went in.

  Buckingham was sprawled on his chair behind his grand desk listening to his chaplain reading prayers, playing idly with a gold chain, his dark eyes veiled. When he saw John his face lit up. ‘It’s my wizard, John!’ he called. ‘Come in, my John! Have you made the water flow backwards up the hill for me?’

  ‘There’s a man here come in haste from the king,’ John said shortly, and pushed the messenger into the room.

  ‘You’re to go to Theobalds,’ the man blurted. ‘The king is sick with ague and asking for you. He says you’re to come to him at once.’

  There was a sudden alertness about Buckingham, like the sudden freezing when a cat sees its prey, and then he moved.

  ‘Get me a horse.’ Buckingham started from his desk. ‘John, get one too. Come with me. You know the way better than any. And a man to ride with us. How bad is he?’ he threw over his shoulder to the messenger.

  ‘They said more sorry than sick.’ The man trotted after him. ‘But commanding your presence. The prince is already there.’

  Buckingham ran up the stairs and looked down at John. His face was alight with kindled ambition. ‘Perhaps now!’ he said, and turned into his room to change his clothes.

  John sent orders for horses to be made ready and sent a man running to the kitchen for a knapsack of food and a flask of drink. He sent no message for Elizabeth. The urgency of the young duke, the call of the adventure and the sense of living in great times was too much for him to remember his domestic ties.

  When the duke came clattering down the front steps, handsome in his riding boots and a long cape, John was mounted on one good horse, and holding another. The servant who was to ride with them was coming from the stable yard.

  The duke glanced at John. ‘Thank you,’ he said, and meant it.

  John grinned. The great fault of these large households was their slowness. Meat was always eaten half-cold, hunting expeditions had to be planned days ahead and always started hours after the time named. Nothing could be done on impulse, everything had to be prepared. John’s ability to get a horse from the stables, groomed and ready to ride in minutes was one of his greatest talents.

  ‘Will you be all right to ride?’ Buckingham asked, glancing at John’s borrowed breeches and boots.

  ‘I’ll get you there,’ John said. ‘Never fear.’

  He led the way at a steady trot out of the courtyard, put the cold sliver of the rising moon on his right and rode due west to Waltham Cross.

  They changed horses not once but twice in the twenty-four-hour journey, once knocking at the door of an inn until a reluctant landlord lent them his own horses when he caught sight of the gold which Tradescant carried. The second time when there were no horses to be hired, they simply stole a pair from the stable. John left a note to tell the owner in the morning that he had obliged the great duke and might call on him for repayment.

  Buckingham laughed at Tradescant’s enterprise. ‘By God, John, you are wasted in the gardens,’ he said. ‘You should be a general at least.’

  John smiled at the praise. ‘I said I would get you there, and I will,’ he said simply.

  Buckingham nodded. ‘I’ll not travel without you again.’

  It was near dawn when they came wearily up the drive to the sweep before the great door of Theobalds. The dark windows of the palace looked down on them. John glanced up to where the great breast of the bay window jutted outwards like the poop deck on a sailing ship. He could see the light from many candles spilling out through the cracks of the shutters.

  ‘They are awake in the king’s chamber,’ he said. ‘Shall I go first?’

  ‘Go and see,’ Buckingham commanded. ‘If the king is asleep I shall wash and rest myself. It may be a great day for me tomorrow.’

  John got stiffly down from his horse. His borrowed breeches were stuck to the skin of his thighs by sweat and blood from saddle sores. He scowled at the pain and went bow-legged into the house, up the stairs, and to the royal rooms. A soldier extended his pike to bar the door.

  ‘John Tradescant,’ growled John. ‘I’ve brought the duke. Let me pass.’

  The sentry stood to attention and John went into the room. There were half a dozen doctors and innumerable midwives and wise women, called in for their knowledge of herbs. There was a desperate gaiety about the room. There were courtiers, some dozing in corners, some playing cards and drinking. Everyone turned as John came in, travel-stained and weary.

  ‘Is the king awake?’ John asked. ‘I have brought the duke.’

  For a moment it seemed that no-one knew. They were so absorbed in their own tasks of arguing about his health and waiting for his recovery that no-one wa