‘You turn up like a bad penny, Thomas, whenever I have time on my hands.’
‘A good penny this time, I hope. Maybe many a penny.’
‘Always welcome. How is dear Mary?’
We talked of this and that for a while. He said living above the baker’s meant the house was always warm but that he and the other player were always tired because they were woken in the early hours by the baker and, unlike him, were not in bed before the day was out.
No, I fear I cannot recall anything of the player he shared with. I’m not sure I ever knew anything about him. I’ve a faint thought that it may have been the player I met once, the one who was also a play-maker and with whom he collaborated. But I don’t know why I think that. It may have been from something he said.
I told him my business, without of course mentioning negotiations with the Scottish Court. He did not react with his usual enthusiasm. ‘But how am I to insinuate myself in that tight little triangle of Poley, Skeres and Frizer? I never see Poley unless Sir Robert Cecil sends me to accompany him to Scotland with letters. Skeres I have not seen since the Babington affair, which is no loss at all, and Frizer – well, we see a bit of each other now that he is servant to Thomas Walsingham, as you know. Thomas himself I see but since the plague came he stays at Scadbury, his manor in Chislehurst. Wisely. The plague cart picked up two more bodies from Hog’s Lane this morning.’
‘I saw it on my way here. Could you seek refuge with Thomas at Scadbury while the plague lasts? He would welcome you, surely, especially if you wanted to write verses there.’
‘It would mean sharing a roof with Frizer. Maybe even a room.’
‘Then you would know if he meets Poley and Skeres.’
He agreed after more talk, partly because he liked the idea of escaping London for a while and was intrigued by my suggestion that Poley might be planning change horses to ride with Essex. But he doubted it. ‘Not because he would have any compunction about changing sides, but I doubt he would see it to his advantage. He once said to me that Essex was a firework, bright and unpredictable, liable to go off at any time and then be finished, but that Burghley and Cecil were a trail of powder, carefully laid. I think he’ll stick with them.’
‘Nevertheless, I should like to be able to tell Robert Cecil what they meet and talk about, whatever it is.’
‘It will be money, money matters.’ He nodded, smiling to himself. ‘I’d bet you a guinea on it if you were a betting man.’
That was the last time I saw him alive.
C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN
Christopher left for Scadbury the following day. He was to send me reports and I would reply by letter to a local inn. In fact, he had little to report during his brief time there. Sir Thomas and Lady Walsingham made him welcome, urging him to stay as long as he wished and providing him with a spacious chamber in which to write a long poem he was working on. He did not have to share with Ingram Frizer, who had become steward to the Walsinghams and was now part of the household. Frizer was less welcoming, of course, but not hostile. Or not outrightly so. ‘We rub along,’ Christopher wrote. It was in the interest of neither that there should be obvious friction between them and there was no sign that Frizer suspected Christopher’s motive for being there. Although there were indications that he was jealous of Christopher’s intimacy with Sir Thomas. Presumably he feared that Christopher could influence Thomas against him.
Meanwhile, there was no sign of any plotting with Poley and Skeres. Christopher learned only that Skeres was somewhere in London and that he and Frizer were involved in property business, as Frizer called it, while Poley was said to be abroad. Christopher made an effort to talk business with Frizer and they agreed they should all meet when Poley returned.
I was summoned again by Sir Robert Cecil. He told me that Poley was in the Low Countries on government business and would return soon. Christopher was to be sure to meet him whether or not the other two were there. Meanwhile, I was to warn Christopher that a warrant was about to be issued for his apprehension. He was not to worry – he was not a suspect, nor was it anything to do with the Dutch Church libel, though it arose from it. It was part of the Essex faction’s manoeuvres against Ralegh, whom they hoped to indict for heresy and free-thinking. Sir Robert had been able to see to it that Christopher was summoned only as a witness, not as party to the alleged crimes, and that he would not be imprisoned, merely required to be available to report regularly to the Privy Council for so long as necessary. In fact, Sir Robert was confident that he could so arrange it that Christopher was never called, even if the case was brought. But it was important that he showed himself to be cooperative, neither resisting nor absconding. I was to ensure he did that by writing to him that day.
On 18 May – I have these latter dates by heart as a result of my subsequent investigation – Henry Maunder, one of the Queen’s Messengers, set out for Scadbury with a warrant to apprehend Christopher and bring him before the Privy Council. On 20 May Christopher accompanied Henry Maunder – I believe they knew each other anyway – back to the Council, then sitting at Greenwich as the Queen was there. It was eight or nine miles from Scadbury and
