The Danish Queen

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The Danish Queen Page 6

by Lynda M Andrews


  In the early hours of the 19th February, she was awakened by the first pangs of labour. Quickly she awakened James who summoned her maids and then removed himself to await the arrival of the child for he had an active dislike of sickness and pain.

  Anne lay in the carved bed, draped with green velvet, alternating between moaning and crying as the spasms overtook her while Anka, Katrine and Margaret Vintner wiped the sweat from her brow and held her hands tightly when the pain reached its height. At last with a gurgle, followed by a piercing wail, induced by a slap on the behind by the midwife, her son was born and after inspecting the babe closely the Countess of Marr pronounced him perfect.

  Anne had been sponged down with rosewater, dressed in a clean night rail and her long hair brushed out when James appeared.

  He took her hand and beamed down upon her. “Ye’ve done well, lassie! A fine boy!”

  She smiled tiredly. “What shall be his name?”

  “Henry-Frederick, after ma ain murdered father an’ his grandfather o’ Denmark. Rest now, Annie, ye maun get strong again,” he exhorted her as he peered intently at the wizened little mite who slumbered peacefully in the ornate, velvet lined cradle.

  “Ye’re sure he’s strong an’ healthy?” he enquired anxiously.

  “O’ course he is! He’s as fine a bairn as I hae seen in many a lang year!” Annabelle Marr said firmly and it was easy to see where James had acquired his speech. “Away wi’ ye now an’ let the lassie rest an’ I’ll no’ hae his nursery turned into a public thoroughfare either!”

  James smiled at his foster-mother. “The bairn is in guid hands I see.”

  “They were guid enough for ye, Jamie Stuart, an’ they be guid enough for him!” she replied tartly but the gleam of affection in her eyes belied her sharp tone. As James reached the door the Countess Annabelle caught his arm. “She kens the auld custom, Jamie?”

  “Oh, aye! Well I think she does.”

  Annabelle shook her head. “Ye should hae told her afore this. She may tak’ it badly t’ learn that her firstborn will hae to be brought up here, under ma care!”

  “Dinna fret yoursel’ about ma Annie, I can manage her,” he replied optimistically, little knowing the strife this ancient custom was to cause him.

  When Anne was informed of the ancient law of Scotland which required the heir to the throne to be brought up in the sole charge of the Earl of Marr at Stirling Castle, her reaction was one of outraged maternity and a stubborn determination seized her to defy this edict. She had of course heard of this custom but had shrugged it aside, but now the matter became paramount in her mind and she was determined not to give in.

  “You are a monster of inhumanity, James Stuart! You would tear my son from me to be immured in this… this… prison with that… that she-wolf! No! James, I’ll not stand by and let you do this to me!”

  “Annie, Annie, calm yoursel’, ye’ll make yoursel’ ill! Hae I no explained it to ye a thousand times! ’Tis the auld custom, Guidsakes, woman! D’ ye think that if I hae stayed wi’ my ain sainted mother I would be King o’ Scotland this day? That I wouldna be, yon Annabelle guarded me like a she-wolf… that was an apt description, but d’ ye no’ see that ’tis for the bairn’s ain safety an’ mine too! If ye take Henry-Frederick wi’ ye in no time at all he’ll be whisked away an’ crowned King and mysel’, aye, and ye too, hounded to an early grave! Hae ye no notion o’ the history o’ Scotland’s Kings, woman?”

  “He is my son and I will have him with me, at least until he is of an age to understand why he must be placed under the guardianship of the Marr’s!”

  “That ye will not! Ye can visit the bairn whenever ye wish but here he stays!”

  Anne dragged herself up on her pillows. “No! No! I’ll have my child!” she screamed.

  James glowered at her, women were fell stupid at times he thought. “I’ll no’ discuss the matter further. Calm yoursel’, woman, or ye’ll be taking a fever an’ then Guid knows what will happen!”

  As usual James got his way and it was a miserable, resentful Anne who accompanied him to Holyrood. She certainly did not intend to let the matter rest there and broached the subject upon every occasion that presented itself.

  When the young Prince Henry-Frederick was fifteen months old she decided to enlist the help of certain members of the Council.

  “Anka, I have come to a decision. I shall no longer endure my son to be brought up at Stirling!”

  Anka looked at her mistress with concern. She knew how Anne fretted for the child and often she had heard her quietly pacing her chamber in the middle of the night, weeping softly. “Madam, what can you do? The King has given the most explicit instructions and Stirling is impregnable!”

  Anne tossed her head defiantly. “He is my son and I will have him here with me! If the King does not like it then he must learn to accept it! Oh, Anka! I lie awake at night wondering if he lies crying unattended, if he is ill… or cold, or hungry? That nurse is a slovenly creature if ever I saw one!”

  “But the Countess Annabelle reared the King, surely…”

  “Yes and look at the result! James Stuart cannot speak correctly, let alone behave with dignity!” Anne cried scathingly. “I’ll not have my son dragged up… speaking broad Doric and slouching and the Lord alone knows what else!”

  “But Madam, the King is a great scholar… he is extremely proficient in the Latin tongue, also the Greek and Hebrew, and he has a rare grasp of the political, economic and religious principles at stake!”

  “That may well be, but I’ll not have Prince Henry-Frederick brought up at Stirling—he belongs with me!”

  “What plans have you made, Madam?”

  “I shall enlist the aid of certain members of the Council whom I know to be favourable to my cause and then I shall ride to Stirling and remove my son from the clutches of that evil old woman!”

  Anka stared at her with trepidation, silently fearing that the members of the Council whom Anne intended to enlist to her cause might well seize the Prince for their own ends, but seeing her mistress’s determination remained silent.

  “You must not breathe a word of this to anyone, Anka. Promise me? The King and those odious Erskines are ever watchful, but this time I refuse to be denied my baby!”

  “I promise, Madam, you know you can trust me!”

  Surreptitiously Anne began to make enquiries amongst the Lords of the Council and in a short time she had managed to enlist the aid of a handful of Lords whose loyalty to the King was somewhat suspect in Anka’s eyes. Anka watched fearfully while these men secretly visited the Queen in her apartments and the plan was fomented to remove the baby Prince from Stirling. Both she and Katrine kept watch at the door whenever these meetings took place, listening for the loud voice and tap tap of the gold-tipped cane that heralded the approach of the King.

  At last all the details had been worked out. Anne accompanied by her two Danish maids and the Duchess of Lennox and Lady Huntley plus a handful of her servants and a dozen armed retainers were to set out supposedly upon a hawking expedition, but they were to meet up with disloyal Lords and their men at various points en route to Stirling where they would enter upon the pretext of visiting the Prince. Once inside the soldiers were to disarm the Earl of Marr and his supporters while the Queen and her ladies would remove the child and then ride with all haste to Dunfermline.

  The night before the proposed venture Anne dined with the King. She was nervous and at the same time excited at the prospect of at last gaining her son. To try to hide her agitation she talked more than usual and drank a little more than was her want.

  James did not fail to notice. “Ye’re ower talkative tonight, Annie… an’ that is the fourth time ye hae had yon cup filled!”

  Anne flushed but tried to keep her hands and voice steady as she replied. “Perhaps it is just that tonight you are more attentive to me, normally you hardly listen to what I have to say and as for counting the number of times my cup has been refilled, am I not perm
itted to quench my thirst? The beef had been over salted!”

  James shot her a penetrating look but refrained from commenting.

  Anne bit her tongue, knowing she had clearly revealed her excitement. Finally, after the last course had been served and the minstrels and tumblers had commenced to entertain the court with their antics, she pleaded a headache and retired.

  James watched her as she made her way slowly across the hall, his dark brows drawn together, his eyes appraising her retreating figure with suspicion. “Methinks ma Annie is up t’ something!” he muttered. “If it’s one thing women canna do, that’s hide their feelings successfully!” he confided to Lord Home.

  Anne did not sleep a wink that night but lay awake beside her snoring husband, staring at the embroidered tester and trying not to disturb him by her restless movements. At last the dawn came stealing through the window and she rose.

  “You’re awake early, Annie? ’Tis unusual for ye?” James muttered.

  “Yes, it is unusual for me, James, but this morning I am indulging my passion… I am going hawking!”

  James grunted and Anne presumed that he had gone to sleep. She moved to her chamber where her ladies dressed her in a rose-coloured damask jacket and skirt, edged with silver lace, and placed upon her head a matching hat with a single sweeping plume. Her heart hammered against her ribs and her cheeks were flushed as Katrine passed her the soft leather gloves, worked with red and green silk and perfumed with oil of lavender.

  “Madam, pray take care. Everything must appear to be normal!” Anka whispered.

  “The King is asleep, I have informed him that I intend to go hunting—there is nothing unusual in that—I have been known to hunt before today.”

  The little party set out making their way at a leisurely pace towards the courtyard where awaited Anne’s palfrey and her guard. They kept up a lively conversation so as not to appear suspicious and the Queen laughed and joked with her Falconer as she took the hooded bird from him and transferred it to her wrist. They urged their horses forward and covered the distance across the courtyard to the gatehouse beyond which was the causeway. Suddenly, a guard appeared in the doorway.

  “Your Majesty! I beg of thee… stay! The King has urgent need of speech with you!”

  Anne’s heart sank. “Nonsense, man! The King is abed! What foolishness is this? I have just left him!” she cried sharply.

  Anka and Katrine exchanged troubled looks.

  “Begging your pardon, Madam, the message has just this minute come… here is the page who brought it!” the man cried in some confusion catching the arm of a young boy.

  “Tell the Queen of your message!”

  The youth bowed. “I am Robert Carr, Madam, the King sent me with all haste to delay your departure and inform you that he is most anxious to speak with you!”

  “I know who you are! You are certain that the King wishes to speak to me this instant? I intended to hunt this morning, already it grows late!”

  “That was his message, Madam.”

  Anne looked helplessly at Jeanne Lennox.

  “Madam, perhaps a few minutes would not delay us too much. To refuse would only increase suspicion!” she added in a whisper.

  Reluctantly Anne nodded and turned her palfrey about. Tears of frustrated anger filled her eyes. Quickly she made her way back to the royal apartments and entered her chamber to find James up and dressed.

  “James, what is so urgent that it could not wait until I had returned? Already it is late, if you continue to delay me it will be pointless to go at all and you will have succeeded in ruining a morning’s pleasure!” she cried petulantly, deciding the best form of defence was attack.

  James surveyed her quietly with his large, lachrymose eyes. “It’ll no’ do, Annie! Ye dinna fool me, I ken what ye are up to!”

  “What are you talking about, James? Up to what?”

  “Och, woman! D’ ye tak’ me for a fool? Ye are no’ going hunting, ye are on your way t’ Stirling to fetch the bairn!”

  Anne’s mouth dropped open. He had known all the time! He had let her go on making her plans, hoping… dreaming!

  “How… who…?” she stammered.

  “Women are no’ made t’ keep secrets! D’ ye think that all this chicanery an’ creeping about on the part o’ certain Lords o’ the Council—who I hae noted well—has escaped ma notice? Och, Annie! Ye’ll need a deal more experience in skulduggery to fool Jamie Stuart! Mind, ye hae me puzzled as t’ the actual time… until this morning that is! Ye acted vera strange last night too, but ye rose just a wee bit too early this morn. Aye, just a wee bit… an hour later an’ I would no’ hae found it strange!”

  Angry tears trickled down Anne’s cheeks. “If you would let me have my child I should not have to resort to such measures! James, please, I beg of you? Let me have him, we can watch over him!” she cried clutching his arm in despair.

  James sighed. “Annie, I ken how ye feel. I know it’s hard on ye but it’s no’ possible!”

  She flung off his embrace. “It is possible! You wish to hurt me… to make me miserable… if you knew…”

  “D’ ye think I hae no’ heard ye walkin’ the floor and weepin’?”

  “You do not care for me! I would have succeeded… I will succeed!”

  “What d’ ye think would hae happened if ye had managed to get the bairn away? D’ ye think those conniving limmers would hae let ye bring him here? Och, no! Ye would no’ hae got more than ten miles beyond Stirling afore they would hae killed yon guards and mayhap ye too, and taken the bairn and then it would be ‘Long Live King Henry-Frederick!’ I hae no’ suffered and schemed a’ these years, Annie, to be hounded to death so they could set ma son up in ma stead!”

  Anne turned away so he could not see the bitter hurt and anger in her eyes.

  “Annie, seeing as how ye are so upset, ye shall go to Stirling for a visit.”

  “No, I will not! I’ll not have it said that I go out of compliment to Johnnie Marr to grace the wedding of the Lord of Glamis!”

  James shook his head, perplexed and annoyed at the perversity of womankind.

  “Besides, I am not well!”

  “There doesna appear to be vera much wrong wi’ ye!”

  “I said I am ill, the strain… do you doubt my word?”

  “Aye, I do, ye’re just being obstreperous! Ye’re fell stubborn, Annie! Fell stubborn—ye will go!”

  “No, I will not!”

  “I command ye to go!”

  She glared at him and then turning left the room abruptly.

  They set out on the 30th May, but by the time they reached Linlithgow she declared that she could go no further and promptly took to her bed. Thoroughly exasperated and sick of the whole affair James ordered their return as soon as the Queen felt well enough to travel.

  The matter continued to simmer beneath the surface. Anne made further plans to gain possession of her son, all of which were thwarted by James, until her mind was diverted by the knowledge that she was once more pregnant.

  Her child was a girl who was born at the palace of Falkland on 15th August, 1596. She was called Elizabeth, in honour of her great-aunt of England and was baptised at Holyrood with the whole city of Edinburgh (represented in the person of the Provost) standing as godfather. Anne’s reaction when she learnt that her daughter was to be brought up in the care of Lord and Lady Livingstone surprised James who was prepared for another outburst. Anne seemed resigned to the fact and caused no fuss. The fact was that she had grown up considerably. She was no longer the young girl who had crossed the sea from Denmark but a woman who had begun to realise that her husband had a determination which equalled her own and would brook no objections to his will.

  The choice of the Livingstones as guardians of the Princess Elizabeth caused murmurs of discontent within the ranks of the Calvinists who objected upon the grounds that Lady Livingstone was a Catholic and that both she and her husband had been devoted servants of Mary, Queen of Scots. James
pointedly reminded them that it was Lord Livingstone who was the child’s official guardian and that he was not a Catholic, but the Calvinists and indeed most of the ministers of the Kirk continued to voice their grievances about the conduct and morals of the court until finally they resorted to what virtually amounted to rebellion and this James would not condone.

  A certain Pastor Blake had the temerity to state from his pulpit ‘Guid Lord, we maun pray for our Queen for fashions sake; but we hae no’ cause for she will never do us any guid’. He followed this statement by calling all Kings ‘Devil’s bairns’ and capped it all by pronouncing Queen Elizabeth an ‘atheist’! The violent exception he took to Anne was due to the fact that she was a supporter of the Episcopal church—this being the faith in which she had been reared—and when she heard of Pastor Blake’s remarks she was justifiably incensed.

  She went in search of James and found him partaking of a hearty breakfast after returning from a morning’s hunting. He was seated before a table upon which the remains of the repast (cold mutton, manchet bread, stewed quails and venison pasties) was liberally scattered, with Johnnie Marr, Ludovick Stuart and the Lords Huntley and Home all refreshing themselves with the usual copious quantities of wine and ale.

  With a cursory, disgusted glance at the state of the table she launched forth. “I take it you have not yet heard of the treasonable… yes treasonable sermon Pastor Blake had the audacity to preach from his pulpit?”

  “No, I canna say I hae… though no doubt ye will enlighten me!”

  “Yon divines o’ the Kirk are a mite restless!” the Earl of Marr needlessly informed his Liege Lord.

  Anne shot him a withering look for she cordially hated him on account of Prince Henry-Frederick.

  “Well, what did yon preacher mannie hae t’ say that is so treasonable?”

  Anne drew herself up, her bosom heaving with indignation, and proceeded to repeat the offensive remarks, while James listened apparently unconcerned, picking his teeth with an ivory toothpick. By the time she had finished Ludovick Stuart and the two Lords were glowering, only James and the Earl of Marr (who knew his King better than any man in Scotland) remained impassive.

 

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