Earthly Joys

Spring 1629

John’s view of the house at Lambeth as an ark which would keep the family afloat during troubled times was proved before Frances was more than two months old. The king’s steady resentment against the House of Commons, which had traduced Buckingham and tried to impeach him, flared up again to dangerous heights at their open delight at the duke’s death. The king blamed Sir John Eliot, radical leader in the House, for the assassination of Buckingham and ordered the assassin, Felton, to be tortured till he revealed the conspiracy. Only the lawyers, standing against an angry king, preserved Felton from agony and he went to the gallows swearing that he had acted only for the love of his country, and alone.

Eliot, sensing that the mood of the country was with him, pressed his advantage in the newly called House of Commons in January, refusing to pay the king one penny of his dues until the House had debated the incendiary motion that the king on earth must give way to the king of heaven – a clear call for Puritans to withstand the earthly power of the increasingly papist Charles and his High Church bishops.

While the city seethed with rumors of the debate, there was a loud knocking at the back door of the Tradescant house, and then the cook ran into the rarities room where Jane was writing labels and rocking Frances’s cradle with her foot. J was before the hearth, stretching a rare skin on a frame for hanging.

“A message for the master, from Whitehall!” the cook exclaimed.

Jane rose to her feet and went to the window. “He’s by the seedling beds,” she said, knocking on the glass and beckoning. “Here he comes.”

John arrived, rubbing his hands on his leather breeches. “What’s to do?”

“A message,” the cook said. “And no reply waited for. From Whitehall.”

John put out his hand and looked at the seal. “William Ward,” he said briefly. “My lord’s steward.” He turned the page, broke the seal and read. J saw his father pale under the wind-worn tan of his skin.

“What is it?”

“It’s the king. He has arrested Sir John Eliot and sent him to the Tower. He has closed down Parliament. He calls the members a nest of vipers and says he will rule forever without them.” He read swiftly. “They locked the doors of the House against the king and voted tonnage and poundage illegal, and voted the king’s theology illegal.” He read a little, and then swore.

“What?” Jane asked impatiently.

“They held the Speaker down in his chair so that the resolutions could be passed before the king’s guards burst in and arrested them.”

Jane looked at once to the cradle and the sleeping baby. “What will he do?” she asked.

John shook his head. “God knows.”

J waited. “What does it mean for us?”

John shook his head again. “For us and the country? Stormy weather.”