Part 17
“‘Lend me thy spade,’ says Jemmy; and with that digs a hole, which hole he bids the sexton make for his grave, and doth give him a French crown. The man, willing to please him (more for his gold than his pleasure), did so; and the fool gets on his horse, and rides to a gentleman of the town, and, on the sudden, within two hours after, he died; of whom the sexton telling, Jemmy was buried there indeed. Thus you see,” adds Robin Armin, moralizing, “fools have a guess at wit sometimes; and the wisest could have done no more, not so much. But this fat fool fills a lean, grave with his carcase; upon which grave the King caused a stone of marble to be put, on which the poet writ these lines in remembrance of him:--
“He that gar’d all men till jeare, Jemy a Camber, he ligges here: Pray for his soll, for he is geane, And here a ligges beneath this steane.”
And now let us follow Motley to the English court of the Stuarts, observing by the way, that, in the words of Mr. Thoms, in a note to Mr. Collier’s edition of Armin’s ‘Nest of Ninnies,’ “the custom of keeping a fool appears to have prevailed in the Scotch as generally as in any other of the European courts, and, it may be presumed, was retained for a long time among the nobility; since among the curiosities shown at Glammis Castle, was, within these few years, the dress worn by the domestic fool belonging to the family.”
Returning to the court of James the Unwise, I will venture upon the remark, that that British Solomon played the fool, or was played to, more frequently than most monarchs. Not only did the professional jester exercise his vocation to please the King, but astute ambassadors acted folly in order to obtain certain ends, and courtiers turned amateur fools to win his favour.
Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, used to say of James that “his most intrinsic desires were legible on his countenance.” Gondomar acted with him accordingly. The Spaniard’s manner, we are told by Osborn, was first to disturb the King’s passions, “and after, to appease them by some facetious drollery, before he embarked himself in what he intended to make the employment of the present audience.”
The same author narrates a scene which took place at New Barnet, and which is illustrative at least of the courtier-fool. James was the guest there of a Mr. John West, in whose garden he was one day walking, after dinner, when he stumbled over a mole-hill, and fell heels above head, in so ridiculous a position that all the courtiers present burst into a fit of laughter. They hastened, however, to assist him; but his Majesty repulsed them, with sundry savoury epithets, in the use and application of which, James was wonderfully expert. The royal rage waxed fiercely; but it was softened down by a touch of humour on the part of the host, which was characteristic of the court fool of an older period. “Ah,” so ran the wittily conceited apology of Mr. West, “it is not possible for any good subject to refrain from rejoicing at your Majesty’s activity in tumbling over and over at a mole-hill.” And with this fool’s compliment, the monarch was satisfied.
James undoubtedly enjoyed wit in others besides his professional court jesters, from whom, to tell the truth, he obtained it of a very inferior quality. There was Dean Field, who was one of the first fellows nominated by the King for the projected Chelsea College; he owed much of his promotion to his wit, and the same may be said of Dr. Collins. L’Estrange narrates an incident exhibiting the punning inclination of their wits in a disputation held by them in the delighted King’s presence. They had “promised one another,” says Sir Nicholas, “to lay aside all extravagance of wit, and to buckle to a serious argumentation; but they soon violated their own law, for Field began thus--‘Sic disputas, Colendissime Collins,’ and Collins again to him, afterwards--‘Sic disputas, Ager Colende.’
At the court, at which learned men thus trifled, the professional fool often gave offence that was not worth taking, and which indeed the wiser spirits of the court passed by with contempt. We have an instance of this in the case of Stone, whose name has come down to us, through Selden, as a court fool of this reign. The incident shows, too, that the fool’s privilege of speech did not always avail him; and that it was the thin-skinned and thick-headed who were the first to take offence, and to call for punishment on the offender. Selden exemplifies this in his ‘Table Talk,’ with reference to this court fool, Stone. “A gallant man is above ill words, an example we have in the old Lord of Salisbury, who was a great, wise man. Stone had called some Lord about court, ‘Fool.’ The Lord complains, and has Stone whipt. Stone cries, ‘I might have called my Lord of Salisbury, _Fool_, often enough, before _he_ would have had me whipt.’” This shows, that if Stone had small wit, he at least possessed some discernment, and could distinguish between a grave, wise Lord, and one who had more sensitiveness than sense. And this is all we know of Stone, whose reputation has been obscured by the brighter and more lasting renown of the celebrated jester, Archie Armstrong.
Archibald Armstrong was a native of Arthuret, in Cumberland, and is supposed to have been “caught up” at an early age, and attached to the household of King James. Our British King Arthur has left many a memorial of himself in the vicinity of our northern lakes; and the name of the birth-place of the Court fool, is one that carries the thoughts back to the most brilliant of legendary sovereigns.
When first we encounter Archy Armstrong at the English court of James, it is rather in the character of buffoon amid fools of nobility, than of witty court jester. Taken altogether, it may be said of him as old Puttenham said of Thersites, that he was “a glorious noddie;” and he was, commonly, in very glorious company.
I have noticed in a previous page that Sir Thomas Jermyn, Sir Ralph Sheldon, and Thomas Badger were spoken of as “fools or buffoons” at the court of James. But Sir Anthony Weldon names three others,--Sir Edward Zouch, Sir George Goring, and Sir John Finett,--as “the chief and master fools; and surely,” adds Sir Anthony, “this fooling got them more than any other’s wisdom, far above them in desert. There were a set of fiddlers brought up on purpose for this fooling; and Goring was master of the game for fooleries, sometimes presenting David Droman and Archie Armstrong on the backs of the other fools, to tilt one at the other, till they fell together by the ears. But Sir John Millisent, who was never known before, was commended for notable fooling; and he was indeed the best extemporary fool of them all.”
Archie was often ill-treated, favourite as he was with James himself. At one time, the friends of Prince Charles, whenever they could catch him, used to toss him, “like a dog,” as Armstrong himself said, in a blanket. Osborn asserts that the reason for this treatment was told him by Archie himself. The King and his son, with a gallant company, had been witnessing the sports at Newmarket. When these were concluded, they bade each other farewell, and rode off different ways. The company, almost universally, turned and accompanied the Prince. Archie remained by his master, to whom he pointed out a circumstance which disagreeably, but conclusively, proved that the popularity of the heir-apparent exceeded that of the reigning Sovereign. The knowledge of this bitter truth, as irrefutable as any told to Lear by _his_ fool, moved James to tears. Archie joked at it, but the King wept. The latter was probably also moved to an extensive demonstration of ill-humour, to the great discomfort of the Prince and his friends, otherwise they would not have so repeatedly satisfied their wrath by tossing the court jester in a blanket.
This jester was himself a good-tempered fellow, by no means lacking sense, especially the sense to grow rich by the exercise of his vocation, however contemptible it may have been. His recorded jests, like Scogan’s, are poor, unauthenticated, and, except on one or two solitary occasions, do not exhibit him in his character of court fool at all. There is, however, one incident which has been highly praised for its wit, is vouched for by Coke, and repeated by Neale, and which may be told, if it be only to show that it is very apocryphal. It refers to the circumstance of the secret expedition of Charles into Spain. Conversing on this matter with the King, Archie said, “I must change caps with your Majesty.” “Why?” asked the King. “Why, who sent the Prince into Spain?” asked Armstrong, in his turn. James, comprehending the fool, said, “But suppose the Prince should come safely back again?” “In that case,” replied the jester, “I will take my cap from my head, and send it to the King of Spain.”
Now there are several objections to the truth of this incident. One is, that similar stories are told of fools of much earlier times; but objections of far greater weight exist in the fact, that Armstrong himself accompanied the Prince and Buckingham, and Endymion Porter, on their celebrated mad-cap expedition. We have double proof of this in a letter from Howell, who saw him there, and in one from Archie himself, or written under his dictation, dated from Madrid, and which will be found below, for the first time in print. “Our cousin Archie,” thus writes Howell, “hath more privilege than any; for he often goes with his fool’s coat when the Infanta is with her _meninas_ and ladies of honour, and keeps a blowing and a blustering among them, and flirts out what he lists.” The jester was wonderfully bold, it must be confessed, as may be seen by his comment, when the Spanish Dons and Doñas were discussing the gallantry of the Duke of Bavaria, who, with a small force, had routed the much larger army of James’s son-in-law, Frederick the Pfalzgraf. “Oh!” cried the patriotic fool, “I will tell you a stranger circumstance. Is it not more singular that one hundred and forty ships should have sailed from Spain to attack England, and that not ten of them should have returned to tell what became of the rest?”
This is very good; but, as I have previously noticed, there is a much more interesting letter from Spain than Howell’s,--one from Archie himself. The original (which was kindly pointed out to me by Mr. Hepworth Dixon,) will be found at the British Museum (Additional Manuscripts, 19,402, fol. 79); it is addressed to James I., and is to this effect:--“Most great and gracious King. To let your Majesty know, never was fool better accepted on by the King of Spain, except his own fool; and to tell your Majesty secretly, I am better accepted on than he is. To let your Majesty know, I am sent for by this King when none of your own nor your son’s men can come near him,--to the glory of God and praise of you. I shall think myself better and more fool than all the fools here, for aught I see; yet I thank God and Christ my Saviour, and you, for it. Whoever could think that your Majesty kept a gull and an ass in me,--he is a gull and an ass himself. To let your Majesty know, that I cannot tell you the thoughts of kings’ hearts; but this King is of the bravest colour I ever saw, yourself except. And this King will not let me have a _trunchman_. I desire your Majesty’s help in all need, for I cannot understand him; but I think myself as wise as he or any in his Court, as grave as you think the Spaniard is. You will write to your son and Buckingham, and charge them to provide me a _trunchman_[F] and then you shall know from your fool, by God’s help and Christ’s help, and the Virgin Mary’s, more secret business than from all your wise men here. My Lord Aston,--your Majesty shall give him thanks,--writes to you and to your son; do give him thanks, for never kinder friend I found in this world; his house is at my command, and besides he gave me white boots when my own trunk was not come up. I think every day of yourself, and of your Majesty’s gracious favour; for you will never be missed till you are gone, and the child that is unborn will say a praise for you. But I hope in God, for my own part, never to see it. The further I go, the more I see, for all that I see here are foolery to you. For toys and such noise as I see, with God’s grace, my Saviour’s, and your leave, I will let you know more whenever I come to you; and no more, with grief in my eyes and tears in my heart, and praying for your Majesty’s happy and gracious continuance among us. Your Majesty’s Servant, Archibald Armstrong, your X best fool of state, both here and there. Court of Spain, 28th April, 1623.”
The above letter, with its mixture of blustering familiarity, small wit, and profanity, was probably taken down from the dictation of Archie. The fool, it will be observed, appends his _mark_; and the original is entirely in the handwriting of Buckingham. There is in it good illustration of the position occupied by Armstrong; and the letter will, I hope, be considered not superfluous here, for this and other social traits which it contains.
Armstrong returned to England with Prince Charles, into whose regular service he passed, after the death of James. I have said in a previous page, that there were faithful servants of Anne of Denmark who lived to envy her fool; and I may here add that there was one especially who envied him, and who was still more angry when he compared the well-cared-for condition of Archie with his own neglected, despised, and unmerited situation.
The individual to whom I allude is William Belou. According to unpublished documents in the State Paper office relating to the domestic affairs of Charles I., under the dates 1625 and 1626, Belou was a Dane, who, at the age of ten years, was placed in the household of Anne of Denmark by the King of that country, and he accompanied that princess to Scotland. Belou remained in her service till, as he says, “it pleased Almighty God to translate her to a better kingdom.” He subsequently was an attendant on the person of James I., who granted him an annuity of £150 for life; which, of course, was not paid. “This pension,” says Belou, in a memorial to Charles, “being the only mark or testimony of my good behaviour in the late Queen’s service, I would not have sold it for £1000 in times past.” But the poor pensionary had entered the service of the Duke of Holstein, afterwards of the King of Denmark. He must have been ill requited, for he adds, “I have not only spent my readiest means, but run myself a thousand pounds in debt.” Belou then offers to surrender the patent for his annuity, if Charles will “cause my Lord Treasurer give to Charles de Bowsie and Abraham Decks that they shall receive the moneys above specified that I owe them, at a certain day.”
The old servant could get no attention paid to his intercessions; and he came to England, to endeavour to procure by his personal address what he could not obtain by missive, What he did and how he sped, is shown in the subjoined honest, hearty, graphic letter to Mr. Secretary Conway. It is the outpouring of an indignant, but not a disrespectful, discarded servant, “broken in body and mind, and totally ruined in estate.” The picture is admirably drawn, and we find in it our old friends Tom Derry and Archie Armstrong, in such conditions of comfort and well-being, as to show that old fools had more substantial respect at the hands of Charles, than old servants, defrauded of their income.
“May it please your Lordship, according to your direction, I have essayed to you a petition, but find neither matter nor reason for it. I have been worse treated than a natural fool, witness Tom Duri,[G] who, for aught I know, is better used, according to his estate and quality, than any servant the late Queen left behind her; at least a great deal better than I. I have been worse used than a counterfeit, witness Archie Armstrong, who shows me that the King has given so special direction for payment of his entertainment, that he is better than he was in the late King’s time; when I, having a pension for which I served, toiled, and travelled the space of thirty-seven years, cannot receive one penny, till I have spent three in seeking of it. I have been worse used than a Turk, witness a Turkish ambassador, whom I have seen get audience of the late King; who had his despatch in three weeks, when I, in three winters’ attendance, cannot obtain means or leave to return to my native country, but am constrained to forget and expose my wife and only daughter to rapt and desolation; that bloody inquisition army of Wallenstein being within three or four days’ march of a country-house where I left them. All this I have endured patiently, or at least with a forced and seeming senselessness. But now, my honourable Lord, I am worse used than a dog; for having moved a poor humble petition to the King, verbally, at Hampton Court, that if his Majesty will give me no money, he would let me have a pass or a warrant, that I might go out to put my wife and daughter in a surer place, he went away silently, without one word speaking; and I am sure he will speak to his dogs. Since, then, my Lord, I have fallen beneath the degree of a dog, I can petition no more, for fear I fall a-howling when I would complain. Wherefore, I have enclosed within this letter the copy of two petitions given to his Majesty heretofore. I beseech your Lordship to peruse them again, and consider what I can offer more or demand less than I have done in the said two petitions; and, only by procuring me his Majesty’s pass, save me from this last of evils, that it be not saddled on my back as a hedshef of my other wrongs endured, that I have slipped away, like a knotless thread, without his Majesty’s knowledge. If I can obtain this, I rest
“Yours, to serve your Lordship with the best thoughts of my heart and the best report my hard fortune can bring forth,
“WILLIAM BELOU.
“_To my very honourable Lord, my Lord Connoway, Secretary of Estate to the King his Majesty of Great Britain, give these._”
I feel confident that I need not offer any apology for citing the whole of a letter which contains such a graphic sketching of the author’s wrongs, of his attempts to redress them, his feelings at his own condition, and his own anxiety for the safety of his wife and only daughter. Charles will “speak to his dogs,” but will not vouchsafe a word to the old servant of his mother, and of his uncle, Ulric of Holstein. The King provides liberally for his mother’s jester, Tom Derry, and more than liberally, it would seem, for his father’s jester and his own, Archibald Armstrong. When poor Belou is about to open the touching Jeremiad of his afflictions, it is the contrast between the happy positions of the two court fools and his own desolate and destitute situation, which first strikes him. The fools are better off than ever they were, whereas the old attendant of nearly forty years’ standing cannot obtain a penny of his due, though he spend three in the seeking of it.
But the day for the fall of Archie Armstrong came too. The fool had not always jested with impunity when he had princes for his subject; and he now fared worse by venturing to tilt against an archbishop. That Archie hated Laud, is sufficiently apparent. It is even said that he once volunteered a _grace_ at a dinner where the prelate was present, and that the court fool, trusting in his privilege of speech, gave it forth in the shape of “Great praise be to God, and little _laud_ to the Devil!” The Archbishop had good ground for offence; but Archie thrusted at him more sharply than this. What he had told Mr. Belou was no exaggeration; he grew rich at court, but his arrogance brought him low.
“Archie, by kings and princes graced of late, Jested himself into a fair estate;”--
and joked himself out of his enviable position. The attempt to force the English Liturgy upon the Scottish congregations was food for his saucy wit; and when he heard of the orthodox Lizzie, who had flung a stool at the head of the liturgical Dean, in St. Giles’s, Edinburgh, he called it “the stool of repentance.” The dissensions in the North began to assume a very serious aspect; and much uneasiness, with a corresponding amount of obstinacy, was experienced at court. Laud was, right or wrong in intention, the cause of all, and as Archie one day met the Archbishop, on his way to the Council Chamber, he could not forbear wagging his rude tongue with the query, “Wha’s fool noo?”
For this offence the jester was immediately taken before the King in Council, where the prelate named his grounds of offence, and the fool pleaded the privilege of his coat. He pleaded in vain, as the following order, dated Whitehall, 11th March, 1637, will show:--
“It is this day ordered by his Majesty, with the advice of the board, that Archibald Armstrong, the King’s fool, for certain scandalous words of a high nature, spoken by him against the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, his Grace, and proved to be uttered by him, by two witnesses, shall have his coat pulled over his head, and be discharged of the King’s service, and banished the court, for which the Lord Chamberlain of the King’s household is prayed and required to give order to be executed. And immediately the same was put in execution.”
The provocation had been long, and had often driven Laud into fits of unseemly passion, which, indeed, drove the prelate to an attempt to bring the wretched jester before that dreaded tribunal, the Star Chamber. On this quarrel and Laud’s vindictiveness, Osborn has a striking passage.
“I shall instance as a blot in the greatest rochet that did in my time appear in the court of England, or indeed any I ever heard of since the Reformation, who managed a quarrel with Archy the King’s fool, and by endeavouring to explode him the court, rendered him, at last, so considerable, by calling the Prelate’s enemies (which were not a few) to his rescue, as the fellow was not only able to continue the dispute for divers years, but received such encouragement from standers-by as he hath oft, in my hearing, belched in his face such miscarriages as he was really guilty of, and might, but for this foul-mouthed Scot, have been forgotten; adding such other reproaches of his own as the dignity of his calling and greatness of his parts could not in reason or manners admit; though so far hoodwinked with passion as not to discern that all the fool did was but a symptom, of the strong and inveterate distemper raised long before in the hearts of his countrymen against the calling of bishops, out of whose former ruins, the major part of the Scottish nobility had feathered, if not built, their nests. Nor did this too low-placed anger lead him into a less absurdity than an endeavour to bring him into the Star Chamber, till the Lord Coventry had, by acquainting him with the privilege of a fool, shown the ridiculousness of the attempt; yet, not satisfied, he, through the mediation of the Queen, got him at last discharged the court.”[H]
There were present, on this occasion, when the Council met to strip a coat from a fool, “the King’s most excellent Majesty,” in person; the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Duke of Lennox, the Marquis of Hamilton, the Earl Marshal, and the Earls of Northumberland and Dorset, Salisbury and Holland, the Lord-Keeper (Finch), the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Privy Seal, and the Lord Chamberlain; Baron Newburgh, and Mr. Treasurer, Mr. Comptroller, Mr. Vice-Chamberlain, Mr. Secretary Cook, and Mr. Secretary Wincebanke.” What an august tribunal for the deposition of a fool!