They were greeted with cries of affection by everyone, including the Duke of Brunswick who had recently arrived at the Danish court for his wedding to the Princess Elizabeth. Anne was led off by her mother and sister while James was borne off by numerous, beaming Danes and the equally ebullient Duke of Brunswick, to revive himself with the best wines that the royal cellar could furnish.
Elizabeth and the Duke of Brunswick were duly married and the Danish ecclesiastics insisted upon re-marrying Anne and James according to the rites of the Lutheran Church—a circumstance James found very amusing.
“Ye canna deny ye’re ma wife now, Annie! Three times is ower much!” he joked as he seated himself beside her at the long table which groaned beneath the weight of the food set upon it. She laughed with him and Sophia smiled benignly upon her, thinking how fortunate Anne was to have such a close and amicable relationship with her new husband for not all Princesses were so fortunate. Sophia was a little disturbed, however, by the large quantities of wine her son-in-law consumed, although she consoled herself with the fact that he did not appear to be in the least drunk and carried himself remarkably well—considering that many of the guests had already succumbed and were now oblivious to the entertainments presented for their amusement.
James was enjoying himself, finding in the Danes a capacity for the consumption of wine which matched his own and Anne found herself retiring alone on more than one occasion. This circumstance did not upset her a great deal for no matter how much wine James consumed, he never appeared to be totally inebriated and his taste for wine certainly did not incapacitate him as far as his marital duties were concerned.
The one thorn in his side was the continual, pugnacious unrest amongst the Scots (many of whom had recently journeyed to join their sovereign) and James found himself constantly pacifying his turbulent subjects. Chancellor Maitland quarrelled daily with the Earl Marshal over precedence, the Constable of Dundee quarrelled with Lord Kingwall and there was a great to-do between Sir George Hume and Lord William Keith and James was relieved when the reverend Patrick Galloway arrived to urge him to return home.
“The time has come t’ bid your family farewell. We maun away to Scotland—so Patrick Galloway instructs me!” James informed Anne at the end of March.
Anne sat up in the huge carved bed and surveyed her husband as he removed his high-crowned hat and replaced it with a nightcap. “When do we leave?”
“As soon as it can be arranged.” James paused and considered his perpetually grimy finger nails. “Ma faithful an’ loving subjects hae expressed concern—they fear I willna’ come back at all! Aye, an’ they hae been right well behaved too, while I’ve been away. Only two insurrections, some skulduggery in the Highlands an’ a couple o’ riots in Edinburgh! That’s no’ bad at all—no’ for Scotland!” he laughed, seeing her eyes widen with apprehension.
Anne remained silent thinking of the daily quarrels between the Scots in James’ entourage and wondering what it would be like to live in a country where half the population seemed to be daily at the throats of the other half!
So on the 21st April, Anne once more took leave of her family and with her husband sailed from Copenhagen escorted by a Danish fleet under the command of Admiral Munch and accompanied by the Danish ambassadors who were to reside at the Court of St. Andrew.
They arrived safely at Leith on the 1st May, 1590, and upon setting foot on his native shore James gave thanks for their safe passage and leaving Anne to recover from the strenuous journey, set off to show himself to his loyal subjects in Edinburgh from whom he had been separated for so long, and to organise Anne’s coronation. As James was more or less in a permanent state of depressed finances, he found the task of raising the necessary ‘siller’ quite a problem. He wrote personally to all the nobles in the kingdom requesting aid and in a short time money and goods were gratefully received or borrowed—even down to such items as silver spoons for the coronation banquet! So straightened were his circumstances that he was forced to write to his childhood friend, the Earl of Marr (whom he affectionately called Johnnie Slaites) to borrow a pair of silk hose with the words “Ye wad na that your King suld appear a scrub on sic an occasion!”
With the aid of borrowed cash the preparations went forward and soon Anne arrived at Linlithgow palace to find her husband with yet another obstacle to overcome. She greeted him with formality but once her maids and his ministers and servants had been dismissed, she reverted to the more relaxed and informal manner that had developed between them.
“What is amiss? I can see that something is troubling you? Is it the money for the coronation?”
“Och, no! ’Twas no’ an easy task to find the siller—but I hae managed it. It’s the manner o’ service!”
“The manner of service?” Anne repeated, not quite comprehending his meaning.
“Aye. Ye ken, Annie, all coronations, baptismals and funerals hae been performed according to the rites o’ the Church o’ Rome—’til now that is! An’ that be the crux o’ the matter. Yon Presbyters are frenetic an’ the ministers o’ the Kirk too, there’s a fine argument on the boil! I canna summon any o’ the biships in time so I appointed Robbie Bruce t’ perform the ceremony according to the auld rites—but that willna serve! No! Yon factious synod hae informed me… informed me mind… that they violently object!” James was becoming more and more agitated as he paced the room. “Violently object they do, t’ the commands o’ God’s Anointed! Well, I’ve a mind to show them who is the Lord’s Chosen Representative o’ the Kirk o’ Scotland—an’ it’s no Andra Melville!” He paused to give Anne time to digest these ominous remarks.
“What will you do?” she asked, thinking that on such an important issue the Scots should make some effort to come to a suitable agreement.
“I hae informed them that I will put off the coronation until sic a time that one o’ my Episcopal bishops can perform it!” He smiled complacently recalling the horror this statement had produced upon the face of Andrew Melville, principal of the college of Theologians, and his brethren. “Aye, they a’ changed their tune after that, Annie! Dinna fret—ye shall hae your day, Jamie Stuart will see to that!”
“James, is there nothing that can be settled without argument and intrigue in Scotland?” Anne asked irritably.
He laughed. “Vera little, lassie! Vera little!”
Three
Anne made her formal entry into the capital city on the Tuesday before her coronation. Seated in a gilded coach lined with crimson velvet and drawn by two white palfreys with Anna Kroas and Katrine Skinkell either side of her and James riding behind upon a dappled courser, richly caprisoned in cloth of gold. It was many years since the coronation of a Queen had taken place and the citizens of Edinburgh turned out en masse to welcome her.
Seeing her, sitting between her maids, so young and fair, they were enchanted. Hopefully she would soon present her young husband with a son and then perhaps some of Scotland’s troubles would be at an end.
The following Sunday Anne was consecrated and crowned at the abbey-church of Holyrood, and despite the feverish money-gathering that had preceded it, the occasion was nothing short of magnificent. Thirty ells of purple velvet and sixteen ells of white Spanish taffeta had gone into Anne’s robe, plus thirty-four ells of gold passament to border it. She was led to the altar by Robert Bowes (the English ambassador), Admiral Peter Munch and the Danish ambassadors, Stene Brahe and Bredon Ranzou. Behind her followed her Scottish ladies, Annabelle, Countess of Marr, the Countesses of Bothwell and Orkney, Lady Seaton and Lady Thirlstone and Mrs. Bowes, wife of the English ambassador. Behind them followed Anka and Katrine and all the other ladies of the court.
Anne performed her part with decorum and dignity which served to impress even the dour Andrew Melville, who towards the end of the ceremony delivered a long oration consisting of two hundred latin verses! Finally the Reverend Patrick Galloway blessed the new Queen from the pulpit and the procession removed to Holyrood palace.
The banquet was sumptuous and no one would have guessed that most of the table service and even the food itself was either borrowed or as yet unpaid for. James for one certainly did not seem to harbour any concern upon this account and good naturedly bandied jests with his peers and beat time with his goblet to the music played by the minstrels and pipers.
“I promised ye would hae your day, did I no?” he beamed affectionately upon his Queen.
Anne smiled, the strain was beginning to tell a little and her head ached for she still wore the heavy crown.
“You’re Queen o’ Scotland now, Annie, an’ a good show ye made too! Yon Andra Melville was favourably impressed wi’ ye! Aye, favourably impressed!”
“What did he expect? A young flibbity-gibbit?” she replied a little sharply.
“Maybe he did a’ that!”
“I am a daughter of Frederick II and the daughters of the House of Holstein are not given to levity on state occasions!”
“Now, Annie, dinna get upset! I wasna’ criticising, it was in the manner o’ a compliment!”
She picked daintily at the sugar confection before her.
James sighed and signalled for his goblet to be refilled and continued. “I canna see that they hae any cause for complaint. Yon was a fittin’ ceremony—despite a’ the arguments! Though Andra’s sermon was a mite long but as I’ve had to sit through hours an’ hours o’ listening t’ Andra’s sermons, I’ve a deal o’ experience in that field!”
Anne’s headache was becoming unbearable and as she had no particular liking for Andrew Melville or his interminable sermons she changed the subject.
“Everything is arranged for Tuesday?”
James nodded. “Your triumphal procession means a great deal t’ ma faithful citizens and they will show their appreciation in like manner—ye should receive some fell pretty trinkets!” he added with a speculative gleam in his eye.
“I thought Scotland was a poor realm?”
“It is but no’ everyone is a pauper! There’s siller about i’ plenty i’ some pockets—though never enough i’ mine!”
Anne sniffed disdainfully; her father had been a wealthy man and she considered it extremely undignified for a King to have to go begging to his subjects to the extent of borrowing spoons and even stockings!
James leaned closer and she drew back a little as the heavy smell of wine that clung to his breath assailed her nostrils.
“Perhaps it willna be for much longer though! Auld Elizabeth canna live forever and England is a land o’ milk an’ honey—so I’ve heard! Aye, an’ the treasury is full for the auld miser won’t spend a penny more than she can help—except upon hersel’ o’ course! Look a’ the shameful way she treated her sailors an’ they the very men who kept Phillip o’ Spain from invading her country? Guidsakes! Yon Howard —him that’s her Lord Admiral—was fair at his wits end! Paid for food and shelter for them that was dyin’ out o’ his ain packet!” James tutted and shook his head but the speculative gleam remained in his eyes as he thought of the wealth Elizabeth had amassed and which (hopefully) he would inherit along with her kingdom.
Anne smiled dutifully at a remark passed by the Countess of Marr and then replied, sotto voce. “My mother used to council us not to be too hasty in such matters. Have you not heard the old saying ‘Do not count your chickens…’”
“Afore they be hatched!” James finished. “But who else is there? She has clapped all others o’ royal blood in yon Tower—or worse! She couldna get her hands on me, though she tried. Oh, Aye, she tried!”
“As she is not yet on her death bed, James, I consider the subject to be lacking in delicacy!” Anne said stiffly, thereby indicating that as far as she was concerned the matter was closed.
She did receive many costly gifts from the citizens of Edinburgh when she rode in her triumphal procession. The fountains at the Cross and the Nether Bow ran with claret and after watching the pageants presented she was given a box of purple velvet embossed on the lid with the letter ‘A’ in diamonds. Inside this case were jewels reputed to have cost twenty thousand crowns and Anne’s delight and gratitude were obvious to all.
The second week in June the royal couple journeyed first to Falkland and then on to Dunfermline which formed part of Anne’s ‘morrowing gift’. It had been neglected owing to the fact that no Queen of Scotland had resided there since the days of Mary Stuart and Anne immediately commenced to renovate and rebuild to her own designs. Her revenues and dower settled, she established her permanent household but within a few days her first disagreement with the King took place.
James, bearing in mind Sir James Melville’s loyalty to his tragic mother, installed him in Anne’s household as her councillor and first gentleman—much to Anne’s annoyance. She was even more annoyed when she learnt that James wished her to consult Sir James whenever she was in doubt. She found it infuriating that James did not consider her experienced enough to manage her own household and summoned Sir James to convey her feelings upon the matter.
“Madam, you wished to see me?” he asked as he presented himself.
“Yes. I wish to know, sir, why the King has ordained you to be my keeper? Does he not consider me competent to manage my own affairs?”
Sir James looked uncomfortable. “Your Majesty is known to be descended of such noble and princely parents and has been so well brought up that ye do not need a keeper, although your dignity requires to be served honourably by honourable men and women, both old and young, in diverse occupations,” he replied.
“Then you are evilly dealt with?” “Your Majesty, the King has placed me here to protect you from such persons as would prove indiscreet.”
She glared at him. She had been correct in her assumption for despite his conciliatory words he considered her young and inexperienced.
“Then you may retire, sir, I shall speak to His Majesty further upon the matter!”
When James returned from indulging his passion for hunting—which was only surpassed by his fondness for wine—she had worked herself into a great state of agitation. In vain Anka and Katrine had tried to pacify her, she insisted that her upbringing had fitted her for coping with the demands now to be made of her.
“James, I would have words with you in private!”
James nodded, pulling off his gloves and hat and handing them to a servant. “Away wi’ ye all! Did ye no hear Her Majesty—in private?” he cried, waving them all away with a hand upon which the blood of the day’s quarry had dried. His sharp eyes had taken in her flushed cheeks and tightly compressed lips and he deduced that the forthcoming discussion had something to do with the appointment of James Melville. “What’s the matter?”
“Sir James Melville! You obviously consider that I am unfit to supervise my own household! Am I, the Queen of Scotland, to run to him and ask his blessing for everything that I intend to do? I am not a child, James! My mother educated me befitting my station, I am quite capable of making my own decisions and performing my duties!”
James sat down. “I didna say ye were a child, Annie! Nor did I say ye were no’ fit t’ see t’ your ain household…”
“You did not have to say it! By appointing James Melville you have made it clear to all!” she interrupted.
“As I hae told ye afore, the Scots are a devious race. There are many I dinna trust! Oh, they will come t’ ye wi’ soft words an’ fine manners, but they wish ye harm, Annie! James Melville kens them a’. Ye will learn, but it will tak’ a deal o’ time! There’s many who would be owerjoyed t’ set thee again’ me!”
Anne was not to be pacified. “I will not have a keeper. You will remove him!”
James jumped up. “No! I will not! It’s for your ain good! I’ll no’ tak’ exception to anything ye wish t’ do concerning all this re-furbishing… though it’s a deal expensive. I’ve been meaning t’ hae a bit word wi’ ye about the expense. D’ ye no realise the cost? I’m thinkin’ ye’re being fell extravagant, Annie!”
Two bright red patches
burned on her cheeks and her eyes blazed. “I’ll not be spoken to like a spoilt, silly child! As to the re-decorations, do you want it to be gossiped about that the Queen of Scotland has no suitable residence? That she is forced to live in a dilapidated palace? I am not extravagant, James Stuart! I was brought up to expect that a certain standard be maintained. My father…”
“Your father had a deal o’ siller—I hae not! And furthermore, I suspect that Frederick hae spoiled ye a great deal!”
Anne exploded. “You do consider me a spoilt child! I’ll not stand for it, James!”
“Oh, yes ye will, Annie! I’m master here and I’ll no’ stand fer it! James Melville stays!” he replied with determination.
Tears of rage filled her eyes and she fumed in silence.
“We’ll no’ discuss the matter further,”James stated but as he reached the door he turned. “On consideration, ye’re right, the Queen o’ Scots should hae a respectable residence. It’s ower lang since ma’ subjects had a Queen an’ they hae forgotten their manners t’ some extent, so ye can devote your energies t’ reformin’ their wild ways! Aye, fell wild!” he called.
The door closed and finding herself alone and defeated Anne gave vent to her feelings in a fit of violent, angry weeping.
It was impossible to continue an argument with James for he refused to listen to her angry comments and teased her unmercifully when she sulked and finally she gave way and took his advice to attempt to reform the manners of the court whilst continuing her renovations to Dunfermline.
Peace did not last long and insurrection soon came in the trouble stirred up by Francis Smart, Earl of Bothwell, nephew of that James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell, whose name had been linked with that of Mary, Queen of Scots. James’ marriage to Anne had put an end to all the hopes this young man had had of aspiring to the Throne (he being an illegitimate descendant of James V) and to add insult to injury he had been accused of being in league with witches who had allegedly raised the storms which had driven Anne onto the Norwegian coast and caused the death of Lady Melville. To these accusations Bothwell replied with the demand for a trial, stating that ‘neither the devil (who was a liar from the beginning) nor the devil’s sworn friends the witches, are entitled to the least credit on this occasion!”
The Danish Queen Page 4