The Danish Queen

by Lynda M Andrews

  Finally, nearly a week late, the King and Queen were reunited at Grafton. James was horrified by the huge crowds of people that followed in her train and did not refrain from making known his feelings.

  “Annie, who in the Name of the Guid God are all these folk?”

  “Greetings, James! I hope I find you well? Vicky, bring forward Prince Henry-Frederick to greet his father!” Anne replied, ignoring James’ question.

  “Did ye no’ hear me, woman? Who are all these… people?”

  Anne sighed impatiently. “I should have thought it was obvious, they are the members of my household!”

  “What! All o’ them?” James was aghast, mentally calculating the cost of the upkeep of such a throng.

  “No, not all of them. Many are loyal subjects who wished to accompany me and others…” she glanced disdainfully in the direction of Sussex and his party who had edged their way to the forefront of the crowd, “followed uninvited!”

  “Thank Guid for that!” James muttered. “Who came uninvited?”

  Anne inclined her head in the direction of the English notables. “I have always appointed my own attendants, James, and…”

  “That was i’ Scotland!” James interrupted. “I now find it expedient t’ appoint yon Sussex an’… has the Kildare woman taken charge o’ ma lassie Elizabeth?” he suddenly fired at her.

  Anne assented.

  “Guid, now where was I? Och, aye, I find it expedient to appoint yon folk an’ I’ll no’ hae any arguments mind!” He glanced furtively about him and continued in a loud whisper, “I can see I’m t’ hae ma work cut out, Annie. Yon’s a proud lot, an’ uppity wi’ it! Fell proud!” He took off his hat and fanned himself for the heat was intense and his heavily padded clothes added to his discomfort.

  “I’ll not have them!” Anne hissed.

  “D’ ye hae to be so argumentative, Annie? I ken the reason mind, ye hae been wi’out ma guidance too lang, aye, ower lang! Dinna get above yoursel’… but more o’ the matter later, where is the laddie ?”

  Anne conceded defeat for the moment and beckoned Vicky Stuart to bring her son forward.

  “Well, laddie, how does you England suit ye?” James beamed, holding out his hand to the boy and choosing to ignore the fact that the young Prince wrinkled his nose in distaste at its unsavoury appearance.

  “I like it well, Your Majesty.”

  “Guid, guid! Ye hae no’ been neglectin’ yer studies?”

  “No, Adam Newton is pleased wi’ ma progress.”

  James patted him affectionately on the head. “I maun see t’ this multitude now,” he muttered, directing dark looks upon Anne’s enormous following. “I suppose they maun be housed an’ fed but dinna expect me t’ bear the expense mind! I no invited them!”

  On the 2nd July, the Royal family arrived at Windsor (James refusing to enter London where the plague was raging) and on that day Prince Henry-Frederick, Ludovick Stuart, the Queen’s brother King Christian (although absent), Lord Southampton and other nobles were created Knights of the Garter. James had added to his collection of handsome young men Harry Wroithsley, Earl of Southampton, who had been a friend of the ill-fated Earl of Essex and who, for his part in Essex’s treason, had been imprisoned in the Tower since before the death of the old Queen. James, on a flying visit to the Tower, had received a pitiful message from this young man, begging that he be allowed to see his King and when James had set eyes upon Harry Wroithsley’s pale but handsome face he had immediately pardoned him and installed him in the royal household.

  Almost from their first meeting Anne detested Southampton. He was more arrogant than most of James’ favourites and treated her in an off-hand, disrespectful manner. Barely a week had passed before quarrels broke out between the Scots and English members of both households and to add to the highly charged atmosphere Anne had a direct confrontation with Southampton.

  It occurred one evening after supper during which Southampton had drunk more than his usual quota of wine. James had retired, closeted with Robert Cecil and other members of his Privy Council discussing the details of the forthcoming coronation, and the rest of the court fell to discussing the affairs which had dominated the last years of Elizabeth’s reign and the fateful subject of Essex and his rebellion was resurrected.

  “I consider that he received his just deserts for he was a rash, self-willed and spoilt young man!” Anne commented.

  Southampton, half drunk and very touchy upon this subject, took exception to her words. “If Her Majesty makes herself a party against the friends of Essex of course we are bound to submit, but none of our private enemies dare thus express themselves!”

  Before Anne could reply Lord Grey of Wilton, who had been one of Essex’s opponents, replied hotly. “Do you infer that we hide behind the royal privilege?”

  Southampton eyed him derisively. “If the cap fits…”

  Grey went purple in the face and jumped to his feet, clapping his hand on his sword hilt and sweating to cut out Southampton’s lying tongue. Southampton, too, had risen, equally as furious and challenging Grey to ‘try and carry out his idle threat’!

  There was pandemonium as the adherents of both partisans tried to restrain them.

  “Gentlemen! Remember where you are!” Anne’s voice rose above the noise. “I will not tolerate such behaviour in my presence! Guard! Escort these… gentlemen… to their quarters at once! Under arms!”

  Some measure of quiet was restored as two burly yeomen collared the two refractory Lords and marched them ignominiously away. Anne summoned her ladies and left, instructing Ludovick Stuart to inform His Majesty that when he had concluded his discussion she wished to see him.

  By the time James arrived she had had time to ponder the matter and had arrived at the conclusion that this was a good opportunity to take Southampton down a peg or two.

  “I’ll not tolerate such behaviour, James! Brawling like common watermen in my presence!”

  “I canna say I blame ye, Annie! Yon was fell disturbing. Aye disturbing. But Harry’s a rash lad, he dinna mean any harm. He’s a mite touchy ye see about the affair o’ Essex,” James replied having been informed of the proceedings by his cousin.

  “He is an arrogant young pup! It’s no wonder Elizabeth saw fit to keep him locked up! It’s not the first time I have made complaint against him… but this time he has gone too far!”

  James ignored her comments upon Southampton’s character. “I’ll hae a bit word wi’ him, an’ Grey too. I’ll no’ hae this bickering. Guid a’ mercy! Is there no’ enough trouble between Scots an’ English wi’out yon English fighting amongst themselves? I’ll hae a bit word, be assured o’ that!”

  He was as good as his word and confined both Lord Grey and Southampton to the Tower to cool their tempers for a short time. A few days later Grey’s name was again brought to his notice when he was thrown into a panic by the discovery of a plot to prevent the coronation taking place, effect a rebellion and place Arabella Stuart upon the throne. The conspirators were Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Cobham, many of the anti-Essex faction and Lord Grey.

  “’Twas no wonder that ill limmer, Grey, was so touchy!” James confided to Ludovick Stuart. “So they want that bit lassie to wear the crown do they? They can ponder on the folly o’ their conniving—they will hae plenty o’ time t’ do so in yon Tower!”

  “They should be thankful that their punishment is not a worse fate. In Elizabeth’s day they would be lacking their heads ere now, although the evidence against Raleigh is flimsy, James. Very flimsy.”

  James ignored the reference to Raleigh. “I’ve a mind t’ be merciful, Vicky. It would no’ do to commence ma reign wi’ bloodshed.” Seeing his cousin was about to speak, James forestalled him. “I know, Vicky, Raleigh is held in vera high esteem, but his pride is over-weaning! This time I find it expedient t’ show clemency.”

  “This time—do you expect further trouble?”

  “I dinna know. These Englishmen are contumacious. Aye, con
tumacious! There is a deal o’ mutterin’ and murmurin’ in some quarters—so I hae been informed.”

  “Which quarter?”

  “Well as t’ that, we maun wait an’ see. I’m well experienced in dealing wi’ treason and the like! Enough o’ these dour matters, I hae a deal o’ work t’ do, yon coronation is a prodigious undertaking, aye prodigious!”

  Unfortunately for James the coronation turned out to be a quiet, almost private affair, for the plague was decimating the populace of London at the rate of thousands per day and James lived in mortal fear of catching the disease. The court was resident at St. James’s Palace and the new Knights of the Bath were created there instead of at the Tower and James forbade St. James’s Fair which had been held adjacent to the palace since time immemorial for fear the disease should be carried to the court. He also dispensed with the route of the procession from the Tower through Westminster for the same reason and the royal party covered the short distance from Whitehall stairs to Westminster palace on the morning of the coronation by way of the river.

  These unusual proceedings greatly disappointed the healthy citizens who were eagerly looking forward to the coronation for many of them could scarce remember the old Queen’s coronation and a Queen Consort had not been crowned since the days of Anne Boleyn. Their feelings were echoed by Henry Petowe in his coronation poem entitled ‘England’s Caesar’.

  “Thousands of treasure had her bounty wasted

  In honour of her king to welcome him

  But woe is she! that honour is not tasted

  For royal James on silver Thames doth swim

  The water hath that glory—for he glides

  Upon those pearly streams unto his crown

  Looking with pity on her as he rides

  Saying ‘Alas! she should have this renown’

  So well he knew that woeful London loved him

  That her distress unto compassion moved him.”

  James duly promised that once the pestilence had subsided the Royal family should visit the city and ride in triumphal state therein.

  There was a small dilemma over the coronation oath which (with the exception of Edward VI) had been sworn by every sovereign from the time of the Conqueror and as such was a promise ‘to preserve the religion of England in the same state as did Edward the Confessor’, an ambiguity that James pointed out vociferously to his prelates, stating that it was impossible to swear this oath and remain consistent to the tenets of the Protestant faith. His arguments availed him nothing and he finally agreed to swear the ancient oath.

  The privileges and estates of a Queen Consort now caused another problem for no one could remember a time when there had been a Queen Consort. Finally Robert Cecil delved into the archives and produced documents appertaining to the dower of Queen Katherine of Aragon, even delving back as far as Queen Katherine of Valois (Cecil was nothing if not thorough) and finally Anne’s dower was settled and she found herself in the possession of the long-dead Katherine’s manors and lands, plus Somerset House (which she promptly re-named Denmark House), Hatfield, Pontefract and Nonesuch (formerly known as Hampton Court). Her jointure was settled at £6,376 per annum which was intended to pay the wages of her servants and out of which she was to furnish her wardrobe. This was a vast sum compared to the pittance she had received in Scotland and Anne, being of an extravagant nature, immediately indulged in an orgy of spending.

  She had finally condescended to accept Lady Rich and Lady Walsingham into her household and these two plus Lady Worcester, Lady Bedford, Lady Derby, Lady Suffolk, Lady Nottingham, Lady Susan de Vere, Lady Southwell, her Scottish ladies and her Danish maids completed the number. In order to keep a closer watch upon his royal kinswoman, James had also recently appointed the Lady Arabella Stuart to his wife’s circle, favouring her with the rank of first lady next to the Queen. Anne instantly accepted this fair if somewhat insipid sprig of royalty, finding Arabella a quiet, unassuming girl with no touch of malice or subtlety in her nature. These attributes were not, however, to be found in many of Anne’s ladies and she found herself surrounded by jealousy, back-biting and tardiness which upon occasion erupted into spiteful confrontations and Anne frequently found it necessary to keep the peace in what at times seemed like a nest of wild cats.

  After the coronation the Royal couple moved to Woodstock but the plague followed in their wake and several of the more meagre servants succumbed. Anne’s court was enlarged by many foreign ambassadors, Count Arembern from Flanders, the Archduke Albert and the Infanta Clara Eugenia from Austria, Sully from the court of Henry the Great of France and for the first time in many years, the Spanish ambassador. To swell the already overflowing palace came the Queen’s brother from Denmark. No sooner had he arrived, than Ulrich, Duke of Holstein, became bewitched by the Lady Arabella and pursued her in true Danish fashion—boisterously! This caused much merriment amongst the Queen’s ladies and Arabella herself flirted shamefully, calling him ‘her Dutchkin’.

  James found in his brother-in-law a boon companion. Ulrich’s capacity for the amber liquid surpassed his own and it was in a spirit of affability that the whole court removed to Winchester on the 17th September to try the conspirators in the Cobham-Raleigh plot. As the matter completely absorbed James, Anne found herself at a loss, her only amusements being cards, mumming and dancing (of which she was inordinately fond and at which she excelled) and such games as ‘Rise pig and go’, ‘One penny follow me’ and a game called ‘Fire’; seemingly childish amusements considering Anne was a woman of twenty-eight, but the November evenings were long and dark and the hours dragged interminably.

  James in order to impress his clemency upon his new subjects had the conspirators actually brought to the scaffold before sending his servant John Gibb with a reprieve, although they were then committed to the Tower.

  The winter months were lightened by a grand reception held in honour of the King and Queen at Basing House, home of the Marquess of Winchester, and it was at this glittering assembly that Lady Margaret Stuart and Charles Howard, Earl of Nottingham, became enamoured of one another and subsequently were married, a circumstance which caused Anne much malicious pleasure (she having never liked Margaret Stuart). James, however, promoted the match between his nineteen-year-old cousin and the revered and stately Lord Admiral (Charles Howard being in his seventies) much to Anne’s disgust. She made no secret of the fact, sarcastically referring to James as Mercury, Margaret as Venus and Nottingham as Mars in a pithy letter to him upon the subject. “Your Majesty’s letter was welcome to me. I have been as glad of the fair weather as yourself. In the last part of your letter you have guessed right that I would laugh. Who would not laugh both at the persons and the subject? But more so at so well chosen a Mercury between Mars and Venus; and you know that women can hardly keep council! I humbly desire your Majesty to tell me how I should keep this secret that have already told it and shall tell it to as many as I speak with. If I were a poet I would make a song of it and sing it to the tune of ‘Three fools well met’!”

  * * *

  The following spring they entered the city of London—the winter weather having finally subdued the plague. On the 13th March, they arrived at the Tower and two days later the patient populace were able to feast their eyes upon the Monarch and his Queen, although young Henry-Frederick seemed to attract more attention, much to his father’s annoyance. They made their way slowly through the city pausing to hear the many verses of welcome and poetic orations and to witness the glittering pageants presented at intervals along the route, each of the City Guilds trying to outdo each other in wondrously contrived tableaux. Ulrich, who had prolonged his visit, waxed genially upon all and sundry and Anne was at her gracious best. Only James seemed to weary of the delights presented to him and muttered peevishly to his wife that ‘Yon procession is ower lang! All this fuss is no’ necessar’ ’.

  In accordance with custom and to escape the sickness that with the onset of the warmer weather had returned, the court moved
on progress through the home counties coming to rest at Royston in the autumn. Little Prince Charles, ‘baby Charles’ as his mother called him, joined his parents at Royston and was formally installed as Duke of York, James creating several new Knights of the Bath in honour of the occasion. The four-year-old prince being still unable to walk was carried in the arms of the Earl of Nottingham and Anne celebrated by presenting (in conjunction with Ben Jonson) the ‘Masque of Blackness’ in which she and her ladies took part all suitably attired to impersonate Moorish maidens. Their faces (and such other parts as it was considered decent to expose) were blackened with a vegetable dye which caused some disreputable comments to be emitted by the Monarch and his gentlemen. Anne chose to ignore them and continued with her entertainment which, considering the inebriate state in which most of the party were in when it finally ended, was quite a success.

  Seven

  On the 7th April, 1605, at Greenwich, Anne was delivered of a daughter. Her pregnancy had caused quite a stir for no child had been born to a reigning English monarch since Jane Seymour had given birth to Edward Tudor nearly seventy years previously. There was much excitement both within and without the court and all the posts connected with the household of a royal infant were eagerly sought after, even down to that of ‘rocker of the royal cradle’.

  The baby was given the name of her tragic grandmother—Mary—and was christened with great pomp at Greenwich chapel with Lady Arabella Stuart and the Countess of Northumberland as her godmothers, and her uncle Ulrich as godfather. She was the first royal child born in England to be christened according to the rites of the Reformed Church—all her Tudor predecessors (including such staunch Protestants as Edward and Elizabeth) having been baptised according to the Catholic ritual, and throughout the long hot summer the Princess Mary Stuart thrived, with her mother in close attendance.

  Early in November James and Anne were scheduled to open Parliament but on the eve of the ceremony Anne was startled to see James arrive in her ante-chamber his face pale and drawn, minus his hat (for once) and in a great state of excitement. He was accompanied by Ludovick Stuart, Cecil (now Earl of Salisbury), the Earl of Suffolk and Lord Monteagle.