Earthly Joys Read online

  Once they were in place they were not obliging. They refused to settle the massive bills of the court and instead the simple country squires confronted him with a long list of complaints against the duke and demanded that he be brought before a committee to be examined for his faults.

  ‘I can’t settle to anything, not knowing what is happening,’ John said to Elizabeth. He was working in their own garden at the little house at New Hall, planting peas in straight orderly rows. She saw that his fingers trembled slightly as he pressed each one into the earth. ‘They say they want him impeached! They say they want him tried for treason!’

  ‘Do you want to go to him?’ she asked, keeping her voice colourless.

  John shook his head. ‘How can I? Without orders?’

  ‘Won’t he send for you?’

  ‘If I can serve him, he will send for me. But there’s no reason for him to think that I might serve him. He won’t need a gardener at Oxford!’

  ‘But he uses you for all sorts of work,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Dirty work,’ she thought to herself. ‘Private work,’ she said out loud.

  John nodded. ‘If he sends for me I will go,’ he repeated. ‘But I may not go until he orders me.’

  She thought his head drooped a little at the thought of the duke in trouble or danger, and not thinking to get help from Tradescant. ‘I have to wait,’ John said.

  One of the duke’s servants brought the news from Oxford to New Hall. The steward saw John in the stable yard and sent down a message for him to come into the house, to the central household office.

  ‘I knew you would want to know that the duke will not face his accusers!’ William Ward beamed. ‘I knew you would have been worried.’

  John snatched off his hat and threw it in the air like a boy. ‘Thank God for it! Thank God!’ he exclaimed. ‘I have been sick with worry these ten days. I thank God that they have seen sense. They threw out the charges, did they? Dismissed them? Who can stand against him, eh? Mr Ward? Who could think wrong of him when they see him and hear him speak?’

  Mr Ward shook his head. ‘They did not dismiss the charges.’

  ‘How so? They must have done! You said …’

  ‘I said he would not face his accusers …’

  ‘So?’

  ‘They had him impeached on eight counts,’ the steward said, his voice low and shocked. ‘They charged him with everything from the ruination of the Navy, to stealing from the king. They even accused him … they said he was implicated … they called him to account for the murder of King James.’

  John went pale. ‘Murder?’

  The steward nodded, his face as horrified as John’s. ‘They named it. They called it murder. And they named him as the regicide.’

  ‘My God,’ John said softly. ‘What did he answer?’

  ‘He gave no answer. The king had his accusers arrested and dissolved the parliament. He sent the members back to their homes. He will not hear them.’

  For a moment John was relieved. ‘The king stands his friend, then. And his enemies are the king’s enemies.’

  William Ward nodded. Then John saw the disadvantage. ‘And since the accusers were imprisoned, are the accusations withdrawn?’

  Slowly, the steward shook his head. ‘No. That’s the rub. His accusers are imprisoned without trial in the Tower, but they do not retract.’

  ‘Who are they? The damned liars. Who?’

  ‘Sir Dudley Digges and Sir John Eliot.’

  Tradescant went white to his collar. ‘But Sir John is my lord’s closest friend,’ he said quietly. ‘They have been like brothers together since they were children.’

  William Ward nodded.

  ‘And I sailed to Russia with Sir Dudley, he’s not a man for false accusations, he’s a man of most careful honour! Why, I’d trust his judgement as I’d trust my own. We were shipmates on a long hazardous voyage and when he was sick I nursed him. I’d have gone with him overland to Moscow if I could have done. He’s a fine man, a fair man. He’d not bear false witness against anyone. He would not do it.’

  The steward looked bleakly at him. ‘It is his word against the duke’s.’

  ‘I would have wagered my life on his honesty,’ Tradescant said uncertainly.

  The steward shook his head. ‘It was those two who spoke against our lord, and are imprisoned for it. And now the king has them in the Tower and they’re not to be released.’

  ‘But what are the charges?’

  ‘None. There are no charges – except that they spoke against the duke.’

  John took a swift stride to the window and looked out at the terraces below: the golden terrace with the goldfish, the silver beneath, and the dappled trout ponds at the lowest level.

  ‘They are men you could trust with anything,’ he said softly. ‘If it was any other cause I would be with them.’

  The steward said nothing.

  When Tradescant turned back his face was very grave. ‘This is a bad business. No-one can call Sir Dudley a liar. But no-one can say that my duke did – all these things that they say he did.’

  The steward looked at him closely. ‘You were there. At the king’s death. You must have seen.’

  ‘I saw nothing,’ John answered swiftly. ‘I saw nothing but my lord watching and waking with his master. The prince was there, do they say he killed his own father? The Bishop of Lincoln was there. Do they say he did it too?’

  ‘The Villiers mother was there,’ William Ward remarked. ‘And the doctors were dismissed.’

  John looked at him, baffled. ‘We have to trust him,’ he said stoutly, but it sounded more like an appeal. ‘He’s our master. We are sworn to be his men. We have to trust him until we have absolute evidence that he has gone against the king or against the word of God itself. We can’t give ourselves as his men and then take ourselves back again when his star is coming down. I am his man through good and bad times. I have eaten his bread.’

  William Ward nodded. ‘At least the duke is to come home for a few days. He writes me that he will stay and then go on to the New Forest for hunting with the king.’

  Tradescant nodded. ‘They’re going hunting? But what about the parliament? The king only just called it.’

  ‘Dissolved,’ Mr Ward said shortly. ‘It’s only the king’s second parliament and it’s broken up with no agreement at all. No money voted, no policy decided. The king will rule with the duke alone, but without Parliament. But how is he to raise money to pay for anything? What will the country think of him?’

  ‘What will they do?’ Tradescant wondered. ‘How will they manage? They are both such young men – and they have such enemies ranged against them abroad and …’

  The steward shrugged slightly. ‘It is a dangerous road that they tread,’ he said. ‘God save them both.’

  That summer there was a meteor clearly seen for night after night, which burned very low and bright in the sky. You could see it most easily after sunset when the sky was still pearly before the stars shone out. It stood alone then, and its hair burned yellow with fire. Everyone knew that it was a sign, and most thought it was a warning. The plague had not eased, the new French queen was proving barren, and besides there were whispers that she could not tolerate the king. There had been fierce quarrels and shouting behind closed doors. The duke had been everywhere in the marriage, intervening, advising, even reprimanding Her Majesty. Now, it was said, she could not bear the sight of him, and she was never admitted to see her husband without the duke present.

  The meteor was visible from New Hall, and in the village of Chorley they thought it was a sign of sins seeking the sinner out. The golden trail behind the meteor was said to be a certain sign of poison, poison somewhere in the land. John Tradescant, who had a hatred of superstition, snapped at J, and said that the meteor was a star fallen out of its place and that it meant nothing – it meant nothing to men of any sense. But he never saw it without crossing his fingers in his pocket, and whispering to himself: ‘God save the king! God save