The room was empty, but it was here that ministers waited for an audience, with much impatience, with the King who was just through another set of doors in the presence chamber. The room had always impressed him. Tonight was no exception, as he could take in its full display of beauty without the obstructions of hats, large plumes of feathers and the bustle of attendants and nobility.
The marble floor and several pillars graced the room, the roof displaying royal coats of arms from King Henry VIII right through to King Charles I. He admired the painting of the King above the fireplace; painted recently it portrayed the King on horseback in cuirassier armour. His great and mighty steed, the sheathed sword and lack of visor indicated to all who looked upon it, the King as the guardian of his peaceful nation.
How it was strategically placed he thought, right in the room where foreign ambassadors and the like would wait for an audience, taking in this display of the Kings power and greatness before they saw him.
His concentration was soon broken by the arrival of Lord Holland, as the doors were opened and broke the quiet of the room. Holland was shorter than Berkeley, with long curled fair hair and a good complexion. Dressed very richly wearing a scarlet doublet inlaid with silver lace, he held a walking cane with a gold head. Holland was never a serious man, he preferred to enjoy his wealth uninterrupted and to that end his friendship with the Queen was beneficial.
Holland was accompanied by Lord George Digby, until very recently a supporter of the men in parliament who were calling for the Kings power to be curbed. Digby was the son of the Earl of Bristol and a born intriguer but was the first Member of the Parliament to move to the Kings service.
Holland's cane tapped intermittently with the men’s feet as they walked into the room. The sound echoed through the majestic corridors. Holland stopped as a medium built man with light hair walked into the room, pausing only for a second to silently acknowledge them, before proceeding to the doors of the presence chamber.
A servant hurried out and handed the man a piece of paper, speaking some words, which were not audible to Berkeley. The servant passed them and nodded his head as Holland’s eyes scoured the room whilst he made for a seat.
Holland sat on a chair and greeted Berkeley, "Thank you for your haste Berkeley," and introducing him to Digby, he smiled.
“That be Nicholas just gone,” Holland observed about the man who had entered the presence chamber. Digby stood by the fireplace while Berkeley came closer to them.
“Nicholas, waiting on His Majesty, he is promoted?” Berkeley queried.
“Nay Sir, Secretary Windebank fled to France after Strafford's imprisonment, Nicholas has been doing his work unofficially these months past,” Digby added.
“He be quiet in his endeavors, speaks not many words to anyone,” Holland stated lifting his eyebrows in surprise.
“They say he is devoted to His Majesty's service, indulges in no corruption, court gossip or vices and he gains the respect of all,” he added.
“Respect! Devoted!” Digby scoffed, “Those will not make him a great man, the intrigue's of the Court do not value honesty, nor do other ambitious men.”
“I hear he has the Kings confidence,” Berkeley said with a wry smile, intentionally raising Digby’s jealousy.
Surely this be an admirable man if has survived thus far honestly in Court Berkeley thought. Before the men could reply, Berkeley's humour was soon cut short when guards opened the two huge presence chamber doors and the King entered the room.
Holland stood and the three men bowed to the King, Berkeley fumbling with his hat as he placed it back onto his head.
Walking very calmly and with a gracious baring, His Majesty was no more than five foot six, but his regal dignity and countenance more than made up for this.
He was dressed in black with a blue garter ribbon hanging from his neck and the rich lace collar and cuffs contrasted against the black material. He had an auburn moustache and beard like his long hair, the hair being broken by a glint from a pearl earring.
Berkeley felt the magical presence of this man, his King. Glancing at the painting from the corner of his eyes, he felt in awe of the small figure in front of him.
For a moment there was silence, the King looking at all of the men individually before he took hold of the medallion of the order of the garter hanging round his neck. The King explained why he had summoned them to the palace, speaking to them with a slightly visible concern.
For months now, tension was high in the city. John Pym, the leader of the Parliament had been leading a challenge to the Royal authority, frequently organising mobs of apprentices to protest around Westminster. This method had helped his side by frightening members of both houses of Parliament, not as radical as himself, into supporting his measures.
The King explained, "The Parliament issue challenges to our lawful authority but despite fresh discussions with them, they refuse to vote money until we submit," the Kings slight stutter interrupted him, "Would they see the country occupied by Scottish rebels for long?”
“We cannot dismiss them either because we need them to vote subsidies." The Scottish army was occupying Northumberland, following the humiliating treaty to the English, after they had lost yet another war. The Scots would not move until they were paid an enormous sum of money, which the Kings Government could not afford. This necessitated the calling of a Parliament to vote the money to him.
The King then told them that he had heard that the Earl of Strafford, until last November his principal minister and who had been impeached in the Tower by Parliament, was about to be put on trial for his life.
The King's Stutter grew worse as he became more agitated, "A loyal Minister on trial, it ... it is not sense. It is a less direct thrust at me through ... innocent men and...." The King stopped and closed his eyes for a second.
Berkeley felt so unnerved by the Kings disability, he was breathing slightly quicker. The King must feel so exhausted trying to uphold his dignity whilst battling against this. The King did not continue, but sighed and looked deep in concentration.
Holland broke in, “Strafford’s plight makes it dangerous for Your Majesty as you trust him.”
“For the peace of the kingdom his life might be forfeited as these men wish?”
The Kings look turned to a glare, Berkeley saw the anger in the Kings dark thoughtful eyes. How he was such a proud man, any slight appearance of threat to his authority disturbed him. He believed as his father, that a King was chosen by God and answerable to God alone. In this belief he was extremely dedicated to the Protestant religion.
Holland he thought had shown again that he seemed to be partial to Parliament’s thoughts, perhaps too partial? Or was he just trying to get out of the trouble, so he could continue to spend money and enjoy himself?
The King raised his voice and asking Holland, "Should the King start giving in to all Parliaments demands and be the shell of a King!"
"Your Majesty's whole authority and powers would be gradually removed, one submission will multiply to others," agreed Digby.
The Kings face changed, it seemed he had found the support he was wanting, someone who seemed to understand his actions and concerns. Berkeley felt out of place, he could see that Digby was telling the King what he wanted to hear and successfully alienating Holland from him.
He thought that Parliament had not yet gone too far, what they proposed was in sympathy with a lot of Londoners and the country as a whole, that of the privileges of Parliament as opposed to some of the outrages of total Royal power during the last eleven years.
Nicholas, the man who had passed them before, entered the room and handed the King a letter. Taking the letter, the King looked at the men and held it in the air while speaking, “Our servant has penned this letter which advises of the Commons desire to see Lord Strafford's death.”
“They threaten all our ministers, our authority and our friends,” the King added with tension, “We will not stomach our own friends to be persecuted, let alone an honest man.”
“They parade daily about Westminster Your Majesty,” Digby warned
“We have acquainted Nicholas with our views and orders if this trial gets out of hand, for surely no loyal minister would be proceeded against thus?” and commenting further the King said,
“We are resolved that these demonstrations must not turn into violence, but what pray advise me can we do, this is why I have summoned you?” and the King looked at Holland and Digby.
“Your Majesty could use your own lifeguard and the trained bands to forcibly remove these people, for they will only understand force before they fill themselves full of their own power,” Digby snapped
“Berkeley, you be a Lieutenant Colonel of the bands, what say you?” Digby hastily asked, looking for support or trying to show him up.
Berkeley looked with a start, his heart beating like mad as he began to speak. The King glanced to him to look at him, but not directly, as he awaited Berkeley's advice. “The bands actions would ultimately show that as Your Majesty called them out, you so use them to uphold and force your will on people and overrule Parliament and their ancient privileges.”
“It must occasion further actions from these resolute men if the bands were called,” Berkeley added before Digby could interrupt him in disagreement.
The King silently nodded. Berkeley was nervous but highly alarmed that advice was being given to the effect that armed men should subdue Parliament; surely this would bring reprisals from them. He was also extremely nervous, as it was the first time he had been so close to the King’s person. Etiquette always kept a distance between them, as Berkeley was only a Knight.
“I believe that to be so too Your Majesty, clemency from yourself and your distance from encouraging force will attract sane men to the view that Parliament threaten the peace,” Nicholas advised.
“We agree heartily gentlemen, for we desire none other than the security and peace of our people. Violence should be avoided because we flourish from our people’s happiness,” the King said with sincerity.
“It be well to let them amuse themselves in this trial, but the Parliament is not out for pleasure seeking, they be deadly serious!” Holland solemnly foretold, “The Commons could be listened to, they want only the removal of this man and then the Kingdom can be normal once more.”
Nicholas broke in before the King replied, “Your Majesty, the trial will be no more than show, if you let it follow through, it will show you are committed to the Parliaments rights. Lord Strafford cannot be found guilty of treason when he still has your confidence. I doubt the Lords will vote to send down one of their own either.”
“Gentleman, I see your views, I must confess I was advised by persons not here tonight to take action, but as Nicholas says, I will not initiate violence on my people. Their happiness is my own, but mark me this, my ... my authority must be upheld throughout. As for Strafford, how can an innocent man be tried?”
The King breathed deeply before continuing his words, “I was handed my rights from my father and on behalf of God, I see no higher authority than the King!”
“To see my people protest and be so disordered because of these men aff ... afflicts us so, out of concern for their own safety as much as our families.”
“Holland and Digby, I command you both to attend this ... trial and follow the proceedings for the King. Sir Charles, you will go too, but you will deliver a message to Lord Strafford from us.”
The King handed Berkeley a sealed letter then said, “Mind you this, it be important it reaches him, for then he will know of my thoughts.”
The King then beckoned Nicholas closer and spoke with him. “Acquaint us with the details of the trial after our prayers tomorrow,” he ordered.
At that, the King thanked them and strode from the room, raising his hat before he went, showing exquisite manners of which he was well known.
Holland spoke again, "Gods Wounds, the King has little support as it is, but he is too stubborn to realise it."
Digby turned at this and followed after the King like a small lapdog looking for a morsel of food. Looking mortified at the letter he held, Berkeley panicked, “How can I possibly follow the Kings orders, when Strafford be guarded in the Tower?” he muttered.
Berkeley then spoke for the first time and asked Holland, "Do you think Strafford will die?” to which Holland quietly nodded.
"Parliament has many supporters, many contacts and a strong leader, there's no doubt about it, men must think about their estates and wealth," said Holland solemnly.
“Does the King not realise that these men just wish him to agree not to tax us without their consent, as per the laws, and not to imprison without due cause?” Berkeley asked, in sympathy.
“Nay, I fear he sees it as a personal attack on himself and his power,” Holland replied. He then turned and walked out.
Berkeley was alone again but he still didn't understand the full picture. He felt relief after they had all gone and was glad the King had begun to make small concessions.
Yet the King had ruled without Parliament for eleven years, Parliament wanted to maintain its rights, it had not been summoned for the eleven years, but this was the King’s lawful prerogative. He supported Parliament’s argument, he hated the way the King had presumed to rule with force, taxing and imprisoning for eleven years.
What's more, “How in Gods name am I to get this to Strafford, the King’s trust and my honour now rest with this sheet of paper!” he whispered with despair.
King or Parliament 1641 Chapter One: A Privileged Life (Novel)
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© Copyright 2002 by Mark Turnbull.
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