A Fine Madness by Alan Judd (best classic books TXT) 📕

not now. Even when the events were fresh none could say why or by whom his death was desired, and certainly none has since. I counsel His Majesty not to heed such talk. Why anyway should he be interested? I have told you all I know, or think I know, but if you could please tell me why, just one word, I could perhaps tell more.

A sodomite? Was Christopher a sodomite? Is that all, sir? His Majesty wants to know whether Christopher Marlowe was killed for being a sodomite?

Well, truly, I never knew him for one. I never thought of it. I told you what Thomas Kyd, when racked, said about Christopher and tobacco and boys. But that is the kind of thing Christopher would say. He liked to provoke. I never knew him go with a boy or a man. Or a woman, come to that.

And if he had, why should he have been killed for it when he could have been brought to law? If he had been brought to law for blasphemy, heresy and free-thinking, his accusers would surely have added unnatural practices if they had evidence? But if it is the King’s thinking that Christopher was killed to stop him talking, then please beg His Majesty’s mercy and say I can help no more, alas.

And yet, and yet. I have heard that his plays touch upon love between men. And if it is also true, as I have also heard that the King himself has favourites, could it be that—?

Of course, sir, of course. I have uttered no such thing, nor would I.

But please remember, sir, that I began this account by saying I could not promise to decipher Christopher Marlowe for you. The Devil alone knoweth the heart of man, a learned judge once wrote.

What I can say is that a man is more than his proclivities. Christopher had hot blood and a fearless mind. He walked where the rest of us fear to tread and he dissolved my faith in the life to come. Yet he sought not to destroy, but to be true. His bequest to me was honest doubt. That is what I believe is important about him, more than his plays or his verses, of which I know sadly little. His life showed that the courage to be honest is the best exemplar of whatever life might be to come. If there is one. And if there is no life to come, only nothingness, then being honest about that and living fully in the face of nothing is an even greater virtue, the very best we can do. And that surely is deserving of something.

POSTSCRIPT

Extract from letter dated 16 February 1626 from Sir Edward Conway, Gent., to the Duke of Buckingham, counsellor to King James I and King Charles I.

…Further to which, Your Grace will be familiar with the desire of His late Majesty, King James of blessed memory, to know the circumstances of the death of the poet Christopher Marlowe in 1593 during the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Although I know not whether King Charles hath inherited his father’s interest, nonetheless I humbly submit the last of my reports on this matter. It is the account given me by Thomas Phelippes, the famed man of ciphers who dwelt in the world of those who witnessed the death of the poet, and who did know them all. I questioned him in the King’s Bench prison where, at Your Grace’s order, he was granted his own more commodious cell and adequate supplies. The account is in his words, so far as I could render them.

Phelippes spoke not knowing the reason for King James’s interest until near the end of my questioning when I described it in as few words as Your Grace was pleased to use with me, at the behest of the King. Your Grace having been intimate with King James’s desires in this matter, I take the liberty of assuming that Your Grace has a like intimacy now with King Charles which will guide Your Grace in deciding whether to show this report to His Majesty. There is much in it to offend any good Christian and I beg Your Grace please to assure His Majesty that not a word of what Thomas Phelippes said shall be bruited abroad. Besides, the man is dead.

It was thanks to Your Grace’s intervention that Phelippes’s last months in prison were considerably eased. There were divers reasons why he spent his old age in and out – indeed, more in than out – of gaol. He was much troubled by litigation concerning an estate he bought at Kirkby Misperton in Yorkshire, his feud with Sir Anthony Ashley lasted above fifteen years and an old quarrel between him and one Tyttyn saw him returned to gaol some years ago. For all his genius with number and cipher, and his skill as an intelligencer, he was not apt at handling his own affairs. His earlier years in confinement arose from his mishandling of his customs dues, as you may see from his account. He earned thereby the wrath of Queen Elizabeth herself and the ill opinion of Lord Burlegh.

Further, when certain treasonous gentlemen attempted to murder King James and his ministers in Parliament in 1605 he was released from prison to help catch the plotters, as he tells us. But afterwards he was confined forthwith to the Tower for more than four years. This was because of his correspondence with Hugh Owen, one of the Duke of Parma’s intelligencers in Brussels who was aiding the Spanish cause and whose evil doings were known to King James. Phelippes protested that he had maintained this correspondence since the old Queen’s time but always using other names. At different times and with various men he was known as Peter Halins, John Morice, Henry Willsdon or John Wystand, and no doubt he used others too. His purpose was to draw out Owen, who thought he was