The Grove of Eagles by Winston Graham
While my father and the others were dining I borrowed a fresh horse and galloped to Cerne Abbas. It was a miserable task but had to be performed. Kate Churcher was a tall slender young woman, not pretty but distinguished, with long hands and a soft Dorset voice. On a pretext of buying a pair of gloves I was able to speak to her, and fortunately her husband was called out of the shop for a few minutes. When she heard my mission she burst into tears which were the more agonised for being half suppressed. I muttered a little of how Victor had died and gave her his message. While I spoke she looked as if I were cutting her heart out. Talking to her brought up all my own deep feeling for Victor. The meeting was even worse than I had feared, and I galloped back to Sherborne with a swollen throat.
We spent the night at Shaftesbury and another at Andover and Thursday night at Hartley. Late Friday we arrived in London and put up at ‘ The French Lily’ in Mark Lane, where four of us slept in a bed of swans’ down eight feet wide.
In the morning we breakfasted off fresh salmon caught last evening in the river and served in small pewter bowls. Thomas and Henry had not been to London before, and after breakfast we went out for a half-hour until Mr Killigrew, who said he had slept ill, was down.
We walked down the narrow overhanging street to the river. At the bottom the whole congestion of the city opened out. A dozen boatmen bobbed at the steps asking our custom; upholstered wherries, some open, some covered in, with velvet and satin cushions waited for hire. The river was full of shipping. To our left was the squat shape of the Tower, black against the smoky sky, sombre with the history of imprisoned princes. Cranes stood on the wharves around it, and behind were the towers of churches. Down river was the bridge with its houses hiding the roadway. Just then the tide was flowing and the water mounted against the arches as if it would push them down. All about the boats and in the free spaces, like tufts of snow thrown down by a painter, were the swans.
We were due at Lothbury to dine with Sir Henry and Lady Killigrew at eleven, so we made our way back and found Mr Killigrew straggling to squeeze his swollen belly into last year’s russet satin doublet while Wilkey knelt to fit the kidskin shoes.
It was not far to the Killigrew house but the way was uneven and the cobbles stiff with dried mud. The house was a tall narrow imposing structure built of brick and wood in a block with three others. The William Killigrews lived farther down the same street but they were away. Sir Henry said he would take charge of Thomas as well as Henry, until they returned.
So dinner. With it a nervous steering away from personal relationships. (Debts do not matter, they are tiresome but bearable; even rogues can be borne if blood relationship demands it; but what rumour has spread that this is something more?) The near success of the Armada was scarcely mentioned. Ralegh, said Sir Henry, was once more always at the Queen’s side, tall, magnificent, all the more impressive for his limp. Essex, much out of favour anyhow for having taken his fleet to the Azores and left England exposed to invasion, had himself now taken great offence that the Lord Admiral Howard’s earldom had placed him in precedence over all other earls, and had retired sulking to Wanstead. Sir Robert Cecil was shortly to leave England on a visit to Henry IV of France, to try to persuade him not to sign a separate peace with Spain.
Irish affairs were giving their usual trouble. It was difficult to know whom to send to deal with this insoluble problem. And conditions in England itself were moving from bad to worse: wild and wet summers, long and dark winters, harvests had failed, prices rose, want and distress stalked the countryside. The Queen, thank God, remained in good health. There were many rumours in Court that she had secretly named her successor.
So dinner. When it was over the two young men, Thomas and Henry, were shown the room they would occupy, and we took leave of them. Only then, when Mr Killigrew under some latent fatherly impulse had gone upstairs with them and Lady Jael was engaged with the servants, Sir Henry said to me in a rapid undertone:
“Maugan, your father is to appear before the Privy Council, I hear. How much is there in these unsavoury rumours that are spread about?”
“What rumours are those, sir?”
He peered at me keenly. “I think you must be more in his confidence than that or you would not have accompanied him. Shall you return to Cornwall if your father does not?”
That had an ominous ring about it. “Temporarily … But if there is the opportunity I shall try to find some permanent position in London or Westminster. John should be back at Arwenack by now, and if anything should happen to my father he will be the new master. Besides, I want to marry and am looking for some recommendation for preferment in or near London.”
His cautious legalistic mind seemed to take each word separately and examine it on its merits.
“As to preferment, as you see, Maugan, I have my hands full with two young men in my charge. And on tomorrow’s Council may depend by how much I am able to help them. It’s an unpropitious time. Have you letters?”
“One, that I don’t wish to use.”
“Why? May I inquire who …”
“It’s to Lord Henry Howard.”
“A coming man despite his age. You should present it.”
“Yet you look distasteful.”
“Well … privately I consider him ambiguous. More so than the other Howards, with whom, on occasion, I have been able to work in amity.”
“In what way ambiguous?”
“He has great talent and a real feel for literature and the arts. It is rather in the private springs of his nature that one suspects some duality—of religion and of the life of the senses.”
My father came downstairs and we talked no more, but as we left Sir Henry said to me: “We have a chamber here. That at least I can offer when you need it.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The next morning, which was Sunday, was gusty with an occasional flurry of rain. We had to attend at Whitehall at nine. For this Mr Killigrew hired a wherry from the steps at the foot of Mark Lane and we were oared up river on a nearly full tide, passing under the great bridge beneath the second of its twenty arches, where the water was now calm, as through a tunnel. At one end of the bridge, were some knobs on spikes which were the heads of executed traitors. I trusted my father had not noticed them and was relieved when one of the rowers, anxious to earn something extra, began to point the other landmarks, the tall chapel of St Thomas on the bridge and St Mary Overy’s tower on the other bank; then the tower of St Paul’s on our right and all the serried buildings of the great city crowding down to the river. The rower said the wonderful spire of the cathedral, 500 feet in height, had never been rebuilt since the lightning destroyed it. Then we saw the Bishop of Ely’s palace with its hall and chapel and gardens.
My father had been silent ever since we got in the wherry. The dejection and the resentment with which he had set out from Arwenack had stayed with him scarcely broken for eleven days. Only twice had it lifted temporarily: once when he had found someone to play Gleek with him at the inn at Shaftesbury, and once when a chambermaid with a large ripe bust and a low cut frock had leaned over him at Hartley.
Now he cleared his throat and said: “I don’t know what’s afoot this morning, Maugan. I don’t know what I shall be accused of, what praise or blame will be meted out. All I’ve wind of from the tone of the summons is that my enemies have gathered to do me what hurt they can.”
“I trust it will be small.”
He grunted and coughed and spat over the side. “God’s life, rumour is a dangerous thing; it can magnify and distort the most innocent action. That’s what we have to beware of, boy.”
“We? You think I’ll be permitted entry?”
“As a witness, yes. A material witness. For if some talk of my having truck with Spain should come up, you can testify on my behalf.”
Now we were passing between green banks on either hand, but whereas that on our left was dotted with grazing sheep, to our right the grass appeared to be part of the gardens of
“Indeed, I think, Maugan, if it comes to this worst danger of my being so accused, you could very greatly help me.”
“How?”
He shifted and glanced around to observe Thomas Rosewarne and Stephen Wilkey following in our wake. “ I have done much for you, boy, you know that. But for me you would not have lived at all. Instead you have been treated as my own son, with all the privileges and honour. Through me everything has come to you, learning, the life of a gentleman, service with Ralegh. But for me—”
“Yes. I understand all that and am grateful.”
“Well I have been thinking—in the night I was thinking it over. If this charge—this worst charge against me—should by mischance happen to be made, it could well be argued—or you could argue—that you alone, in error, were responsible for it. That being captured and in Spain you were forced in order to survive to treat with them, and this you did in my name and without my knowledge. Elliot and Burley, you could say, were your friends, and they so advised you. You might even say that some large sum of money was offered you to land with the Spanish advance forces, and that you accepted it—”
“In short that I alone played traitor?”
“There is no need to use that word in the case of a boy such as yourself. No need at all. You were misguided, frightened and carried away. That’s all. We’re of the same name, Killigrew, and so it was thought I might be involved. You, being so young, have little to fear …”
“Except hanging maybe.”
“Oh, no, no, no. I would not permit it. They would treat a boy very lightly. The error in you would be so much less than if they thought it mine …”
By now we must have passed Durham House where I had stayed with Sir Walter, for we were turning in towards Whitehall Stairs.
I said slowly: “ Father, I admit my debt to you. Indeed I acknowledge it gladly. But there are some sacrifices, some payments, which outweigh the debt. You’re asking me too much. Besides, the target is out of range: I could not convince them even if I would.”
“If you said—”
“But I would not try. Be content that I’ll try all else. You know I will support you in any other way you want.”
We came into the steps and willing hands caught the wherry, offered help in alighting, brushed off imaginary spray from our cloaks, all hoping for the tossed coin. Mr Killigrew paid the boatman and slowly we began to mount the broad flight of steps. The second wherry was grounding behind us.
“Take heart,” I said, “I don’t see how the Privy Council may know anything of this matter.”
“The Privy Council has many ears and eyes, spies abroad in all countries. You never know what they may know or what they may invent if they are determined on a man’s ruin.”
We reached the top of the stairs and waited for Rosewarne and Wilkey. It was blowing and my father drew his cloak around him. The brassy daylight showed up the coarseness of his skin, where a once high clear complexion had become pitted and rusty. His eyelids dipped a little at each side like tiny pouting lips. He had wool in one ear against the cold. He looked an old man.
Chapter Four
We waited in a large room adjoining the Queen’s Presence chamber. It was an ornate room, with a gallery at one end and crystal candelabra like inverted pyramids hanging from the ceiling. Pages and men in varied livery came through from time to time, but no others waited. We had not been searched, though our swords were left at the door. Wilkey and Rosewarne had remained outside. At the entrance door to the Presence chamber were four enormous men in red, with roses embroidered in gold on back and breast. The floor of this impressive ante-room was strewn with some sort of sweet herb that emitted a pungent smell.
I was vividly reminded of waiting with Burley and Alazar in the palace in Madrid. Only here were no crowds; those who crossed the room did so with a leisurely thoughtful air. It would all have been reassuring if we had been in the mood to feel reassured.
When men left the Presence chamber they did so backwards bowing low. I did not know if Her Majesty attended all or many of her Council meetings, but it seemed she was here today.
Nine became ten and ten eleven. Ever and again a strange and unnerving sound could be heard from the garden outside like a devil in shrill torment. Peacocks screeching on the lawns.
There was a bustle and two men exited bowing. Following them came a chamberlain, who beckoned to my father. I rose to accompany him, and after a brief hesitation the chamberlain let me pass.
The room we came into was smaller than the ante-room. Light fell from the three tall windows upon a narrow table down the centre of the room. A big fireplace with a fire glowing; tapestries depicting battle scenes on the wall; six of the red-clad guard; at the table were about a dozen men in robes of office; at the head a woman.
Near the foot of the table was a bench, with a lower padded bench before it. On this we knelt. While we took up our positions there was complete silence at the table. So we knelt there watched by the twelve greatest men in the land. But not by the greatest woman. She was examining the diamond bracelet on her wrist.
Beside her, on her left, was a small man in black with a humped back: I took him to be Sir Robert Cecil. In the shadows behind his chair were four clerks at a desk writing. It was impossible to know all the other men, but the Archbishop of Canterbury was on the Queen’s right, and I recognised the Earl of Nottingham, who had been Lord Admiral Howard. Among the others were the Lord Chamberlain, the Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, the Earl Marshal, the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Chief Justice and the Controller of the Queen’s Household.
So we remained while Her Majesty attended to her bracelet. Silence was not broken until she looked up and nodded.
The Lord Archbishop said: “Mr Killigrew, we have many times in the past had bad reports of you. It would seem that the position of honour entrusted to you by Her Gracious Majesty has not unseldom been used for your private profit. Not two years ago a Commission was appointed to inquire into these abuses. Their report was far from favourable, but Her Majesty saw fit to overlook these lapses, preferring to believe your constant assurances that in all matters touching the safety of the Realm you had no other thought but to serve her …”
At first sight the Queen looked like a young woman; one felt some miracle of preservation had kept her as a maid of 30. But when she turned her head towards the window one could see the lines under the talcum and the borax. She was wearing a dark auburn wig, and her gown of white silk embroidered with great pearls was cut low, showing as much white bosom as Lady Jael ever did. Two pearls in the ears, a necklace which glinted fire at every move, a small becoming crown.
“Nevertheless, in the month now past, when the Realm was in perhaps the greatest peril of all the perils of Her Majesty’s reign, your service to her was wanting. Captain Alexander has reported on arriving at Pendennis on the 31st October that there was not half a barrel of powder in the castle, that all fortifications were neglected, the guns in poor condition, the musters unsummoned. Further that your deputy captain was away and such servants as you spared for the defence of the fort were in liquor. What say you to all this?”
My father began a long and rambling defence, which was part justification, part denial. He referred to the many letters he had sent to the Privy Council asking for more arms. He spoke of the difficulties and jealousies he had had to contend with nearer home, when others in their reports and in their positions were judged to be before him. He would have gone on much longer but suddenly stopped. A white gloved hand at the top of the table had been raised.
“What is this young man doing here, Mr Killigrew?”
“He is my eldest son, your majesty. A base son but one I esteem. I ventured to ask him here so that in some part his words might be accepted as bearing out my own. If it so—”
“Go on, my Lord Archbishop.”
The archbishop turned over a parchment. For a few moments I had met the eyes of the Q
“A second charge. Two weeks ago today at Dartmouth, in the examination of one Nicholas Franklin before George Carey of Cockington and Thomas Holland, mayor of Dartmouth, Franklin being aboard the Bear of Amsterdam, one of the Spanish navy forced in by stress of weather and interned … Franklin, a mariner, testified to hearing one Captain Elliot talking with officers, Captain Elliot being a known traitor and a long partner with the Spaniards. Witness says Captain Elliot said in June of last year, he being with his ship in Falmouth haven and much in the company and confidence of one John Killigrew, captain of the castle, was there surprised by one of the Queen’s ships Crane and escaped up river. Whereon Mr Killigrew suborned Captain Jonas, commander of Crane, with the gift of £100 to sail out of the haven and so give Elliot time to escape. This money Captain Elliot repaid to Mr Killigrew, and this Mr Killigrew accepted, knowing it to be gold from Spain …”
The peacocks were screaming. The new Earl of Nottingham brushed the end of his pen lightly over his beard.
“Your majesty,” Mr Killigrew said, “my lords, this is an outrage! This is infamy! You, madam, who have honoured me with your confidence for so long, can you accept such a calumny? I, who have laboured all these years …”
“Mr Killigrew,” said the Queen gently. “Do not protest. Say if you did or if you did not.”
“I did not! On my immortal soul and on my hopes of its redemption through the love of Christ, I swear I did not!”
The Lord Treasurer said: “I think you have admitted on some former occasion to an acquaintance with this man.”
“Indeed, yes. My river is an open haven. It is not discriminate in whom it gives protection to. But I was no more inward with Captain Elliot than with a hundred other mariners who from time to time have come to the harbour and dropped anchor there.”
Lord Bathurst said: “ Could we not have Captain Jonas called?”
Sir Robert Cecil said: “Captain Jonas has already been examined … Not unnaturally he denies all knowledge of this. There is some corroborative testimony from a Coxswain Lloyd who was aboard Crane at the time mentioned. But Lloyd, it must be said in fairness, is not an entirely trustworthy witness.” Cecil had a delicate voice, careful and low, but every word could be heard.