CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Doctor Dee continued to send me orders for my work with King Christian and the German princes. In the end I confessed to him how I was weary of the task and feared my Orphic singing had become so mechanical that it served no useful purpose. He agreed that the desired effect was not achieved unless the hymn was sung with heart and soul and fresh attention paid each time to the meaning of the words.
"Yet I am certain you sang with true intent for Robert Dudley,"he said. "I can still see the rapt expression on your face and your eyes closed in concentration. Alas, he would have made a great king." He agreed that my work in Europe must for the time come to a close and advised me to come home if that was my wish. "Although life in England is not as it was now that Sir Walter and the Earl of Northumberland are in the Tower and Sir Edward Dyer in poor health. I myself have no means of support, as King James will not permit me to clear my name of witchcraft for which the penalty is death. Even a small recompense from those whose lost property I discover through my powers is no longer possible, as the present penalty is imprisonment for a year and six hours per quarter in the pillory after that. Daughter Katherine does her best to keep a table though money is hard to come by now the remains of my library is sold. Not long ago, I accepted a dinner at a merchant's house. That rogue, Simon Forman was there and refused to exchange his copy of my beloved Raymond Lull for my last remaining alchemical work, turning his back on me like the rest. He is a black wizard and I a true magus, yet he prospers. The world is topsy turvy, John."
It was news of Simon Forman in Suzanne's letters that increased my urge to return home. He was a great friend of Annie's old husband, Doctor Turner, who allowed her every wish - money, clothes, servants and this freak of hers, to act as assistant to the wizard. In spite of being with child again, she also spent much of her time with Lady Frances Howard, who was soon to marry the young Earl of Essex, a match made by James, who fancied himself as the Peacemaker uniting two formerly opposing families.
The confidences that followed the announcement of the forthcoming birth gave us much cause for alarm. Annie told her mother that the birth of her first child, John, owed all to the aid of Forman, who had found her weeping over her supposed barren state and told her the remedy. At his house, he gave her a potion to drink and, in the heavy sleep that followed, she dreamed. She stood unclothed, surrounded by light, and many naked gods passed before her, until, with one such, she enjoyed for the first time the bliss of perfect union. When she came to herself, Simon told her to return to her husband and repeat with him the actions of the dream.
"Oh, Jean," wrote Suzanne, "that evil man is using her for the same purpose to which I was subjected in Paris. I swear she is as innocent as I was then but, if this continues, his wicked spells will be her downfall. I shudder to think what lies ahead."
I begged King Christian even more vehemently for my release, saying that my worn out voice was no longer fit for singing the Orphic hymn to good effect. He agreed reluctantly and gave me a boy pupil to train, Hans Borckratz, a singer from his Chapel. I was paid additional salary to perfect his luteplaying and teach him enough Greek to perform the Orphic hymn.
He was an apt enough pupil but, as I persevered with him, I thought of you, Rob, and how much more you needed my tuition.
After a few months, I judged him ready enough and would have left for England long before, had not Christian put obstacles in my way. At last, the King went off on a visit to the Duke of Brunswick and I made good my escape. The Comptroller, who had always hated me, was only too pleased to settle accounts and see me on my way.
No sooner was I at home, however, than angry messages from King Christian arrived at court, soon followed by his royal person on a planned visit to the King and Queen. I was obliged to go into hiding, which I had by no means expected. First, though, I went to Annie's house but found Doctor Turner adamant in the defence of his old friend, Forman, and all I did was to cause a breach between our two families and deprive poor Suzanne of all contact with her daughter and grandchildren.
Leaving her with all the money I could afford, I thanked the gods that the house was ours and no rent to pay. Mall insisted on remaining, wages or no wages - she was a member of the family now, she said. Although most of Suzanne's former sewing work had come through Annie's connection with the Howards, she still hoped to make a small living. There was no possibility of continuing to pay your University fees, Rob, and, indeed, the latest reports on your progress showed it would have been good money thrown after bad.
I earned my passage to Ireland with my lute and from Dublin, where John Forster, as you remember, took us in, I wrote to Sir John Zouch and he readily invited us to Codnor where he was now master. No need to ask if you recall the day long training I put you to there. You had to learn in weeks what it had taken Hans months to master. Luckily, your voice had not yet broken and you were a good enough mimic to pick up the Greek words with a fair accent, though they were so much mumbo jumbo to you. My severity made sure you sang the Orphic hymn with hatred in your heart. The plan I had devised meant a secure home for you and sure revenge on my enemy. How did I justify this sacrilege? It was my only weapon against Robert Cecil, who, apart from his injuries to me and to my Barbara, had ruined Sir Robert Dudley, destroyed the Warwickshire plotters and brought my dear old friend, Doctor John Dee, to disgrace and penury.
Sir John Zouch was travelling to London and made safe your journey to Fetter Lane. His servant kept an eye on you after that, though you knew nothing of it. I went on my travels again in the country, playing the old dance tunes and singing the old songs, hoping against hope that you would act well the part I had drummed into you. There was reason to be proud when I learned that you had been picked up in the street by Cecil's spies and taken to his house where (as I later learned) you managed to convince him, with well affected reluctance, that I had taught you the Orphic hymn, so valued by King Christian of Denmark, who sought John Dowland yet. That was your passport to a place among Cecil's famed young musicians. You were once more in a great house where Barbara might even glimpse you on visits from time to time and be happy. Your knowledge of the Orphic hymn was your security, yet the mood in which you sang it would augur ill for its avid listener.
King Christian returned to Denmark, taking Arbella Stuart's lutenist, Thomas Cutting, who was, however, soon back home again. Meanwhile, as I skulked about in the country, my First Book of Airs had its fourth printing, but, as ever, it made profit only for the publishers. Though my songs were on every lip, I felt the pinch and it was hard to think without jealousy of my former pupil, Thomas Campion, making money hand over fist at court with his masques for the Queen. I had to console myself with the knowledge that you were living in comfort, Rob, and that your mother was happy for that.
Money was now in such short supply that I had to ask Barbara's permission to sell the ruby ring. She begged me not to part with it and, in its place, sent me the Spanish diamond, saying that, though it was not so simply done, we could still communicate through the miniatures. I was then able to pay Suzanne's household expenses and the arrears of Mall Sim's wages. I also sent help to Doctor Dee and his daughter, for I could not bear to think of them in want.
Sir Edward Dyer also was living in straitened circumstances. As long as he lay low, Cecil did not call in all his debts and Sir Edward had worked as Chancellor of the Garter to install the Duke of Wurttemberg, Ludovic Stuart, the nine year old Prince Henry and, later, King Christian and his brother. Most of Elizabeth's Garter knights were no more - Cumberland, Mountjoy, Oxford, Hunsdon and Northumberland, who languished in the Tower. Only old Sir Henry Lee outlasted them all and had high hopes of Prince Henry, with whom he often spoke when the court went hunting at Woodstock. He found him interested in the Tilts of the old Queen's day and encouraged him to follow Sir Philip Sidney's practice of the chivalry of Raymond Lull. Even from the Tower, Sir Walter Raleigh, too, influenced the young prince for whom he began the great task of setting down a History of the World. Sir Robert Dudley also wrote with advice from Italy and Patrick Gray from Scotland. Hopes began to centre on Prince Henry, not only as the heir to the throne, but as the new Prince of Europe.
Yet our Magus, Doctor John Dee, dwindled away in dire poverty and neglect and I, the Orphic singer, valued by Kings and princes, was now a wandering minstrel, barely living from hand to mouth.
~
Apart from conversations by magical means, I received letters from a new friend, Master Henry Peacham. When I first arrived back at Fetter Lane, after my flight from Denmark, Suzanne told me that a young man had called several times asking for me and had left me a letter. It was couched in the most flattering terms. Since the publication of my First Book of Songs, he said, he had been my fervent admirer. He had not long returned from Italy, where he had been studying music in Modena with Orazio Vecchi and where he had found my name famous both for my compositions, my playing and for my friendship with the best known musicians of the day.
I wrote explaining that, in my changed circumstances, it was impossible for us to meet, as my abode was uncertain. We arranged that he should address his letters to Codnor Castle, fully understanding that they might be opened by informers, even though the cover was in the name of Sir John Zouch. Those letters were of great comfort to me. In a world where my fame seemed to have vanished like smoke on the wind, his warm admiration was balm to my bruised spirit. He knew me first only through my music and, later, when I opened my heart to him and told him troubles which I spared my Barbara, his ready sympathy ensured a lasting friendship.
Sir Edward Dyer had been absent when Cecil was made a Knight of the Garter for his part in discovering the Gunpowder Plot. I had thought it a diplomatic illness for it demeaned the honour of the Order to bestow it on such an unworthy recipient. Yet it was true, for, the following year, he died and ,in 1608, Doctor Dee followed him. The Monas messages ended and to some degree my bondage to Cecil, since my use as an informer was gone.
The Dowager Lady Pembroke now invited me to her new home, Houghton Lodge, near Ampthill in Bedfordshire, where she had re-created Basilius' house from the 'Arcadia'. Once more, our last meeting was as yesterday and we exchanged news avidly.
"I now know your story from Barbara," she said sympathetically. "I much admire you for giving up your post as a great King's lutenist to come home and see to the welfare of your boy." She interrupted my hasty disclaimer and went on, "Now that King Christian no longer pursues you, I am sure you could give up this wandering existence and return to London. I would ask William or Philip to give you employment but the life they now lead at James's court is, I am sorry to say, a profligate one and their tastes are for noisier and more vulgar music than you could approve. The Howards are all powerful at court and Cecil fears them, so, though they are my sons' enemies, they could best protect you. Why do you not make up that family quarrel with your daughter and use her influence to find you a place? By the way, I hear that, just as Prince Henry has made our Provincial roses fashionable by wearing them on his shoes, your Annie has learned to dye ruffs and cuffs in the Howard yellow, which is all the rage at court. You see, even in this backwater, I am not entirely out of touch."
This was good advice, and, returning to London, I put my pride in my pocket and went with Suzanne to visit Annie, who was delighted to see us and to show us her babies.
"I have so missed my Papa and Maman and wish that silly quarrel had never taken place. I am sure Doctor Turner has forgotten it. His memory is not what it was and he seldom leaves his room now and receives few visitors. I shall certainly speak to Lady Essex, as my lady Frances is now. My lord is still on his Grand Tour, you know, as they are both too young to live together as husband and wife. I am sure she will speak to her brother, Theophilus, who has a soft spot for me and cannot fail to remember that Maman was his foster mother. He will certainly give you employment."
So it was that I found myself installed, through no effort of mine, in a grand house where I lived in luxury with a room of my own in which I could gaze on Barbara's miniature and speak with her whenever she had leisure to look on mine. I was within easy walking distance of Suzanne and could now keep her in comfort, so that she could give up her sewing, except for garments for her darling grandchildren.
Annie told her mother of the strangest thing. At court, she had seen the man of her dreams and discovered that he was Sir Arthur Mainwaring, Prince Henry's Carver. Poor little fool, she could not get over the extraordinary coincidence. I wonder if he recognised her straightway, as she did him, when fully clothed? She cultivated his acquaintance and even took him home, where her husband proved complaisant. Sir Arthur was the father of her children as he perfectly well knew. How could Suzanne and I chide her? Our lives had ever been ruled by love out of wedlock.
My Lachrimae was still played everywhere. I suppose it added to my reputation but I had rather it brought coins to chink in my purse. Ferrabosco of Greenwich was now all the rage among the younger sort. He had taught Prince Henry, who frequently chose Robert Johnson to write the music for his masques. While I was out of England, working for the good of Europe, they had been ready, on James's arrival, to fill all the court posts, which was where the rich pickings lay. In 1607, Queen Anne had even brought in an Italian as her musician and paid him one hundred pounds a year! I complained to Henry Peacham that all my life I had been in the wrong place at the right time. 'Semper Dowland, semper dolens' indeed.
~
Barbara and I grew concerned that we had news of you so seldom, Rob. What had happened to the second part of my plan? We now learned from court gossip, much to our dismay, that, far from making friends with one of Cecil's clerks and using our bribery money to cozen him into finding and purloining Barbara's fatal letter, you had preferred to mix with my lord's noble wards and (supreme madness) had helped one such rich prize to escape the Wardmaster's clutches. We learned that you were under close arrest in Cecil's cellars and that he was frothing with rage, seeking to do you harm.
Your mother wrote a pleading letter, begging for the release of her former page. It was ignored. I hoped that your knowledge of the Orphic hymn might save you from the most severe punishment. We were not then aware that your voice had broken and, worse still, you had become careless and garbled some of the Greek words, which Cecil readily detected. As his health worsened, he was no doubt beginning to lose faith in the hymn (rightly, since my plan was to do him ill.) The King both overworked and mocked him and his beloved son, Will, had found himself a mignon, as was the fashion at Whitehall. James, too, had a beautiful new Scottish favourite, Robin Carr, who was taken up by the party opposed to Cecil's power. Sir Walter had made excuses for one he had always thought his friend, saying that Cecil had never been the same since his young wife's death but I hated him worse than ever and eagerly awaited his downfall.
I thrashed around in my mind for some means of moving that heart of stone and securing your release. It came to me that if any man had the ear of Robert the Devil it might be his old friend, Michael Hickes, once Lord Burghley's secretary and the young Robert's partner in many an underhand deal. For years past, they had been thick as thieves. Hickes came from a family of money lenders and there were few great ones who had not been in his debt at one time or another. I knew it meant a rich bribe, so I gathered together what money I could and presented myself humbly before Sir Michael, as he now was.
"I would wish to help you," smiled the old man, "for your music has given me much pleasure, but I regret that I have little influence with Robert now. He has gone up so high in the world that he has quite forgotten the ten year old lad who used to run to Michael for comfort whenever he felt that the whole world conspired against him. For six or seven years he has ignored me quite and made it clear that my use to him is ended, though, once, I could always work on him on others' behalf. I am too old to wait for days in his crowded anterooms and then risk rebuff but I will write to him and only take your money if we have success. I will mark the cover with our urgent sign, the gallows, which we borrowed from Walsingham. That should ensure that the letter is brought to my Lord's notice early." When, after an anxious time of waiting, Sir Michael summoned me, his usually laughing face was clouded.
"What do you make of this reply ?" he grated. "'To conclude, therefore, sir, I hate the fact so much to steal away any man's child, as I am sorry it is not death by the law, seeing that he who cuts my purse with fourteen pence shall be hanged. I am Master of Wards, I am a Councillor of State and in my private conscience opposite to all fraud....'"
Here the old man's indignation overcame him. He went purple in the face and could read no more. When his breath returned, he shouted, "Private conscience indeed, for I have seen no single scruple in his dealings in all our years together! The double-dyed hypocrite! What has he been doing as Master of the Wards but steal children from their families, leaving their widowed mothers broken-hearted, marrying their offspring where the most profit lay for him without a thought of their true welfare. This duplicity makes me glad that your son has managed to release one of Robert's noble prisoners and I will do all I can to give him aid. I admit that my hands have been none too clean in the world of affairs and, as I look back, there is much to regret but I have never pretended to be better than I am. Conscience, forsooth! We must take my erstwhile little friend down a peg or two and I know how to go about it."
It seemed that he had known and helped the now all-powerful Lord Henry Howard in his poverty stricken days when he was a mere tutor at Cambridge and hoped to use his present rivalry with Cecil to our advantage, aware of a secret Lord Henry held over his former pupil's head.
"No such enmity as when thieves fall out," chuckled Sir Michael, his customary good humour regained. "I will ask our Lord Privy Seal to have a word with the King which will guarantee your son's release, though you will both have to walk carefully as Robert Cecil, Lord Salisbury I must remember to call him, will not forgo revenge and will see that your son lacks employment from now on. No, keep your fee for his maintenance. It is pleasure enough to see that cozener outwitted."
You will remember your return to Fetter Lane, tail between your legs. The fine that Cecil imposed on you cost me Barbara's ruby ring, for which Sir Michael gave me a fair price, but, though I lost that precious possession, its motto, 'Je sommes' was still mine for ever. The next year, my translation of Ornithoparcus was at last published. I dedicated it to Cecil most fulsomely, more in sarcasm than than hope that his enmity to our family would be turned aside.
Annie, meanwhile, had given birth to another child by Mainwaring, still a welcome guest in her cuckolded husband's home. She was more interested in the affairs of Lady Frances than those of her family and gave Suzanne regular reports of the doings at court, which were relayed to me, though you, Rob, took little interest in them. We learned that, in her young husband's absence, Lady Frances was the belle at all King James's grand festivities. None was more charming, none so light-footed in the dance and even the staid Prince Henry was beguiled by her beauty. She, in turn, encouraged by her cat-faced uncle Henry, fell head over heels in love with the heir to the throne.
Annie still worked with Simon Forman at Lambeth, where, in the Archbishop's domain, he was safe from the law. No doubt, her artless chatter provided him with good material for his fortune telling. She had met the now widowed Sir Thomas Monson there and he had made friendly advances, asking her to act as hostess at his London supper parties.
"She is such an innocent,"said Suzanne, "in spite of her three children, and Simon Forman, whatever my fears, does not seem to have harmed her. You yourself, Jean, have foreseen the future from time to time so it cannot be thought entirely wrong."
I could not take matters so lightly but I had other anxieties to fill my mind, not least your future, Rob. There was nothing for it but to begin lessons again and I moved back to Fetter Lane so that I could make up for lost time. I had to accept the fact that you would never become a brilliant lutenist, but, at least, I could make you a competent one. Memories of my own recalcitrant youth with the Catholic emigres in Paris now returned to haunt me, for you spent all your spare time with Cecil's young musicians, who quite took you up as a martyr and a hero. Taverns and brothels were your meeting places and you were always lacking in money.
Though we said nothing to you at the time, Suzanne and I found small sums missing which must have found their way into your purse. Worse still, when we had hidden our money more carefully, I found one night, as I was readying myself to speak with Barbara, that her miniature had disappeared. You had borrowed sums from Michael Hickes, who was not so friendly as to forgo repayment, and you had finally settled your debts with the stolen miniature, more on account of its valuable setting than the portrait itself.
Sir Michael had bought my ruby ring with the motto 'Je sommes'. He now had the same motto on a dated portrait to which he could put a name. You never knew my agonising fears of blackmail or my despair that Barbara looked each night on my miniature and spoke to me while I could by no means answer. It was not easy to keep my patience with you, but you were my loved son to whom I had a duty for Barbara's sake as well as my own. The lessons continued but it was a thankless task. You and your cronies despised my 'old fashioned' music, saying my style of fingering was outworn and my singing pitiful. The vogue now was for loud music. You even quoted Francis Bacon to me, as an older man who could move with the times. 'Voices should be strong and manly (a base and tenor; no treble) and the ditty high and tragical; not nice or dainty. Let the songs be loud and cheerful and not chirpings or pulings, let the music likewise be sharp and loud and well placed.' What did that thrice cursed sodomite know of music? And how did my son come to learn his views?
I decided that to make your name known, you must publish, even if it meant you composing music of which I thoroughly disapproved. But, after much unwilling labour, the mountain gave birth to a laughable mouse, trash that could never be allowed to appear under the name of Dowland. Time was short and I had to fob off the public with a collection of pieces by my own and other hands, supposedly garnered by you, Rob, and dedicated to Sir Thomas Monson, who, as a member of the Howard party, was in high favour at court. You took little notice that I also wrote the Epistle to the Readers and included my own translation of Besardus' 'Necessary Observations Belonging to the Lute.' We named the book 'A Variety of Lute Lessons' by Robert Dowland. You relished the sight of your name in print.
When this had begun to sell, we followed it up speedily with "A Musical Banquet" by Robert Dowland, borrowing part of the title from a work by that traitor, Anthony Munday, to repay him for the theft of one of my galliards. The new book contained some of my compositions from the old days - settings of Sir Philip Sidney, Essex and Sir Henry Lee, who were now the idols of Prince Henry. If you could gain his favour, you were made.
The songs by 'l'incerto' were, of course, mine and in one I reminded Barbara of our 'mute language', now, alas, no longer possible. I wrote the dedication to the many-titled Robert Sidney, and the Epistle to the Reader ended with a reminder of one of Sir Philip's favourite sayings. Not that I supposed that a glimpse of the old days would bring back warmer feelings on Robert's part for the Dowlands. As with Cecil, you had burned your boats there. However, you accepted congratulations on both works as though they were indeed your own. Perhaps the theatre would best have suited you.
My consolation was that Barbara would be proud of her son, so like his father in talent, and would maybe fathom the secret messages in the words of the songs.
