The Danish Queen

by Lynda M Andrews

  “Anka, send for Steven Beale.”

  “Who, Madam?”

  “Steven Beale, the young man who pulled me from the path of the cannon. I trust him—he shall take my letter.”

  Anka nodded and went in search of Steven Beale, returning some minutes later accompanied by the young sailor.

  “Master Beale, I have a special commission which I wish you to undertake for me.”

  He looked at her intently and she blushed.

  “Here is a letter to my husband, King James of Scotland, I wish you to take it to him. I realise that this commission is fraught with danger but… but you alone I trust to see that it is delivered safely,” she finished not daring to look up lest she appear foolish beneath that penetrating gaze.

  “Madam, I shall do everything in my power to see that this letter reaches its destination as quickly as possible.”

  She raised her eyes and looked into his candid blue ones. Did she detect something more than loyalty there? She smiled and dropped her eyes as she felt the hot blood rush to her cheeks.

  “I knew I could trust you,” she replied hesitantly before dismissing him.

  * * *

  Steven Beale shivered and pulled his fustian cloak tightly about him. To venture upon the seas in such weather was little short of suicide, but he had been spurred on by feelings of loyalty and love that he had never before experienced. She was so beautiful, he thought, so sweet and yet compassionate and in such a pitiable plight. The salt spray stung his face like tiny pin-pricks and the icy wind pierced his clothing, numbing him to the bone, but he shrugged aside these discomforts for they were nothing compared to the fact that she had chosen him to be her Knight Errant and he would face worse dangers than these for her sake. For the tenth time that day he put his frozen fingers inside his jerkin and touched the parchment he carried safely tucked inside his shirt. Yes, he would brave the elements to carry her plea for help safely to its destination. They were worlds apart for she was a Queen and he a humble sailor, she also had a husband but that could not stop him worshipping from afar his young and beautiful mistress.

  He continued on his journey through appalling weather until finally he reached Scotland. King James was residing at Craigmillar castle and it was to this fortress that Steven Beale made his way. Exhausted and cold he arrived at Craigmillar and was conducted into the presence of the King of Scotland where he stood staring about him, trying to ascertain which of the men before him was the King.

  At last a young man of middle height with great, dark, sorrowful eyes and a decidedly un-kingly bearing detached himself and came towards him. His clothes were padded and slashed in the height of fashion but the hand extended was decidedly grubby for James Stuart had an abhorrence of the daily use of soap and water!

  “Well, laddie! So ye hae news o’ ma bit lassie?”

  Steven Beale nodded, taken aback by the unfamiliar tone.

  “Well, dinna kneel there gawping, man!”

  The young Dane hastily handed over the now rather creased parchment and James Stuart broke open the seal and scanned the lines of neat script shaking his head and tutting as he read.

  “Och! This will no’ do! The poor lassie! Mind, I had some notion o’ this and hae made preparations. Aye, preparations! I’ll fetch her mysel’!”

  The young Dane was even more taken aback and continued to stare in astonishment. Had he heard correctly? Was this odd young man intending to brave the fearful storms to sail to Norway?

  James looked down at him with some amusement. “Get up, man! Ye’ve done right well! Aye, right well, but ye must be famished. Away wi’ ye, ma servants will find ye food!”

  Stammering his thanks Steven Beale arose. James of Scotland was not at all what he had expected but he sensed that beneath his odd manner he was a kind and thoughtful man but as he wandered down the long, cold passageway behind James’ servant he wondered what his mistress would think of her husband?

  Two

  Despite the protests and entreaties of his ministers James Stuart determinedly set out to bring his bride safely to her new home.

  After being presented with the calculations of the expense of such an undertaking by a pessimistic Francis Stuart, Earl of Bothwell, James was in such a perplexity that Chancellor Maitland stated that ‘If His Majesty would be content with such ships as he and some other loyal subjects could furnish, he would go and seek the Queen himself!’ Unfortunately the only ship the Lord Chancellor could obtain was a barque of only 120 tons but James seized upon it, heedless of the personal danger of setting out upon the wild seas in such a cockleshell of a craft.

  News of the King’s intentions quickly spread and in the taverns of Edinburgh a new ballad was being sung.

  “For Norroway, for Norroway,

  For Norroway over the foam,

  The King’s daughter of Norroway,

  The bride to bring her home.”

  Before embarking at Leith James settled his affairs, selecting with great care those Lords and Councillors who should accompany him and those he was to leave behind for James was an astute young man aware of the rivalries of his subjects and their penchant for subversion and insurrection. His cousin, Ludovick Stuart, Duke of Lennox, he appointed President of the Council, and Francis Stuart, Earl of Bothwell (another cousin), was appointed to assist the Duke. He exhorted all ministers of the Kirk and indeed all preachers to pray for peace and quietness and to be indefatigable in their exhortations to the Almighty for his safe voyage.

  After having enlightened his Privy Council of his reasons for personally undertaking this voyage with the words, “I am alone in the world. I have neither father, mother, brother nor sister—but mark ye, I am a King not only o’ this realm but heir-apparent o’ another. I thought mind, that if I hastened not to marry at my years folk might consider me a barren stock for a King is wi’out power if he has no bairns!” he then boarded his ship at Leith on the 20th October, 1589.

  They sailed into the teeth of a terrible storm and James, who was a firm believer in the existence of the powers of evil and with the tragic death of Lady Melville fresh in his mind, began to entertain grave suspicions that the powers of the evil one had been invoked by persons as yet unknown to prevent him reaching his bride. Lady Melville, who had been appointed First Lady of the Bedchamber to the new Queen, had been drowned while crossing Leith ferry on Michaelmas day, her boat having been run down by another ship.

  Despite the weather and the supposed intervention of evil forces, they arrived at Fleison on Friday, 7th November. After resting for a few hours they again set sail reaching Lungesward on the following day. Here they left the ship and travelled partly on horseback, partly by sledge, through Tonsberg and Asloa. Their journey was slow and difficult for the snow lay heavily upon the ground and the drifts were deep, but Steven Beale, riding with the King’s party, was forced to admire the fortitude and determination of the young man who rode ahead of him, slumped in the saddle and huddled in furs.

  Finally the village of Upslo was sighted and the party rode thankfully into the humble little settlement just before noon.

  Anna had had a miserable time for there were very few comforts and what food there was was plain and unappetising. The long Norwegian nights had been cold and dismal and she had lain awake huddled in her bed listening to the wind and the spine-chilling howl of hungry wolves and wondering whether Steven Beale had even reached Scotland.

  Anka and Katrine had commiserated with her and had tried to lighten her hours but she had begun to despair of ever leaving Upslo.

  She was sitting staring disconsolately into the log fire when Anka rushed in.

  “Madam! Quickly! He is here! He has come!”

  Anna looked up at her maid in astonishment. “Who?” she cried.

  Anka’s checks were flushed with excitement. “King James! He is here!”

  Anna’s mouth formed a round ‘O’. “Quickly, Anka, my hair! My dress!”

  With deft fingers Anka instantly set about her task
, bidding Katrine to bring Anna’s scarlet velvet dress, the one edged with silver lace and pearls. Anna had only just finished changing and Anka was pinning the last curl into place when the door opened and James entered—hat, fur cloak, boots and all!

  The three girls sank into curtsies as James crossed the room and took Anna’s hands.

  “A fetching sight! Aye, ’twas worth yon fearful journey! Up wi’ ye, Annie!”

  To her utter amazement he pulled her to her feet and kissed her soundly upon the lips. She was so astonished that she could find no words to reply to his strange greeting but stood staring at him, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

  “Hae ye no words o’ welcome for me? Hae I come a’ this way to find ye speechless? Och, this’ll no do!” he laughed.

  “I did not expect you so soon…”

  He regarded her affectionately with his dark eyes.

  “It is not the custom in my country to… greet one another… in such a fashion!” she stammered, trying to regain some measure of dignity.

  “Is it no proper to kiss ma ain wife? I hae waited ower lang for the pleasure, Annie, ye’ll hae to admit!”

  She began to feel a little exasperated for his peculiar manner irritated her until she looked closely into his eyes. Warmth, humour and affection were contained in their depths and despite herself she began to smile.

  “Well, that’s a wee bit better. Tell yon lassies to get up. We’ll no be standing on ceremony, ’tis no the place for it I’m thinkin’,” he said, glancing around the sparsely furnished room.

  Katrine and Anka thankfully rose as Anna bade her new husband warm his cold limbs before the fire and sent her servants to find something for James and his party to eat. Before the members of James’s court dispersed to refresh themselves she caught sight of Steven Beale.

  “Master Beale! Pray do not leave!” she called.

  He turned and came nearer to the fire.

  Anna smiled at him. “I wish to thank you for without your loyalty and courage I would have been doomed to remain here until Spring.”

  He looked earnestly into her face.

  “Aye, yon was a brave undertaking,” James agreed.

  Anna turned to him. “We must reward him.”

  James nodded. “That we maun, but I hae no’ the siller—for the present.”

  Anna stared once more in amazement. She was soon to learn that James was always hard pressed to find the ‘siller’ for even the most basic essentials, Scotland being a relatively poor country compared to Denmark. She withdrew a ring from her finger and handed it to Beale.

  “Pray take it, it is little enough with which to repay you.”

  “Madam, it is more than enough. I shall treasure it always!”

  James shot him a penetrating look, noting the devoted expression in the blue eyes. “Aye, well, that is as may be. We thank ye, just the same, man.”

  Beale left and James rose. “We maun see to the formalities. We maun be wed, according to the law o’ God. Will Sunday suit ye?”

  Anna stared. His manner and forthright speech were very unnerving. “I think so…”

  “Once that is settled we maun see about getting away from this dour place. Aye, dour it is! I promised ma loyal subjects I wouldna be ower lang away from them, an’ I dinna trust them wi’out me either! Guid knows what they will connive at wi’out me!” He scrutinised her delicate features and his voice softened. “You’re a bonnie lass! Your portrait dinna lie!”

  She dropped her eyes.

  He took her hand. “Dinna be afeared. Ye’ll grow accustomed to me!”

  “I’m not afraid!” she replied with spirit. “It’s just that you are so… forthright… not what…”

  “No’ what ye expected? Well, I’ve a mind t’ say what I think and there are many folk who find Jamie Stuart no’ what they expected—but ye’ll grow accustomed. Aye, accustomed!” he finished with his odd habit of repeating himself.

  She smiled. He certainly was not what she had expected. This young man of twenty-two with his uncourtly manners and direct speech was far from the stiff, dour young man she had half envisaged but he was pleasant and thoughtful and she knew she should be extremely honoured for there were very few Kings who would risk life and limb to claim their brides.

  “I should like to leave as soon as possible. When can we travel to Scotland? Tell me about Scotland… James?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper as she called him by his Christian name for the first time.

  “They are all ower anxious t’ see ye. I think ye will learn t’ love Scotland for it has great beauty. A wild, rugged beauty which suits the temperament o’ its people, for I tell thee, Annie, the Scots are a wild, stubborn race! Aye, stubborn! I’ve had ma troubles, lassie!” He observed the apprehension in her eyes. “But dinna fret yoursel’, Jamie Stuart can manage them—I’ve had a weal o’ practice and a guid deal o’ experience t’ fall back on!” he said darkly.

  She was silent for a moment, then she said, “You think they will welcome me? I had begun to wonder… the storm?”

  “Just evil fate. Dinna fret yoursel’.”

  “I have not thanked you for coming to my aid.”

  “I could no’ hae left ye here!”

  “But you came yourself—you could have sent another.”

  “Aye, I suppose I could. But I was a deal concerned!”

  “It is not a common occurrence for a King of Scotland to risk his life to escort a Princess of Holstein to her new home,” she said prettily.

  James’ expression was bemused. “No, I’ll gi’ ye that! But ye are no Anna o’ Holstein now, lassie—ye’re Anne o’ Scotland, dinna forget that!”

  They were married the following Sunday by David Lindsay the King’s favourite chaplain and a meagre banquet was set out in the house most adequately equipped to contain the members of both parties, and it was at this banquet that the bride was given a foretaste of the jealousies and factious behaviour of her new subjects. This enlightening experience came in the form of an undignified wrangle between the Earl Marshal and the Chancellor of Scotland as to who took precedence over whom. The matter assumed alarming proportions, tempers became frayed and voices raised until James—in his inimitable manner—settled the argument by stating loudly, “If ye canna decide the matter amicably between ye then ye shall both leave our presence for I’ll no’ hae ma wedding turned into a stramash and the bit lassie reduced to tears!” Thereafter things went more smoothly.

  Anne (as she was now called) was spared the usual, embarrassing ceremony of ‘bedding’ the newly married couple for circumstances were not conducive to large numbers of people circulating in the bed chamber but after Anka and Katrine had combed out her hair and dressed her in a night rail of delicate, embroidered silk covered with a robe of fur, she felt a little afraid. It had been instilled into her that her prime function in marriage was to produce children and she was resigned to her duty, although this reasoning did nothing to alleviate the butterflies that danced in the pit of her stomach.

  She need not have feared for James was not insensitive to her fears and treated her with tenderness and consideration and as she lay beside him next morning she laughed to herself, thinking how foolish she had been to fear him. He informed her that as her ‘morrowing gift’ she would receive the palaces and domains of Falkland and Dunfermline. This he explained was a custom in Scotland and the prospect of having two establishments of her own pleased her greatly.

  The weather grew worse. The wind howled incessantly and the snow grew thicker and James was daily losing hope of setting out for Scotland before May. After a week he decided to send a messenger to Sophia in Denmark informing her of his arrival and marriage to her daughter. In the weeks that followed Anne had ample time and opportunity to observe and accustom herself to her husband and she learnt that his odd manner concealed a sharp wit, a cultured mind, a cheerful disposition and an ability to keep one step ahead of his constantly bickering attendants. From him she learnt of his miserable childhood
and youth during which he had been a pawn in the hands of his mother’s enemies, the fact that he had reached maturity at all only being due to the time-honoured and rigorously upheld custom that the heir to the throne remained under the wardship of the Earl of Marr in the fortress of Stirling. She learnt of his distrust of the Ruthven family who in 1582 in ‘the raid of Ruthven’ had finally obtained possession of his person and by whom he had been forcibly restrained. The murder of his father, Henry Darnley, and the execution of his mother, Mary Queen of Scots, were common knowledge and Anne felt herself increasingly drawn to this young man who had such bitter experiences of life and who lived with the knowledge that not one of his Stuart ancestors had lived to reach the age of forty!

  The messenger returned at length with letters from her mother begging them to come to Copenhagen and there spend the remainder of the winter. After first sending Captain William Murray to Stockholm to obtain a safe passage through Sweden, James decided that he would venture forth for enforced inactivity was anathema to him. Initially he considered the journey too dangerous for his Queen, so Anne was once more left with her maids at Upslo but when he reached the Swedish border he found that the safe passage had not arrived and after resting at the castle of Bahouse, decided that he would return to Upslo for the Queen.

  The storms had abated but the snow was deep and the frosts severe, but after journeying for many days they reached Bahouse. The following day William Murray arrived with four hundred Swedish troopers to escort the Royal couple through the domains of the King of Sweden and at last they reached Elsinburg but the weather had so deteriorated that they were forced to shelter for three days before they could take ship to Denmark.

  Across the sound Anne could faintly see the coast of her homeland. She had never thought to see Denmark again and when they finally boarded the ship she felt elated to be once more re-united with her family.