CHAPTER V.

ANNE OF DENMARK, QUEEN-CONSORT OF JAMES THE FIRST.

(A.D. 1575-1618.)

Anne of Denmark was certainly less intellectual than some of her predecessors, and on many occasions showed herself wanting in judgment and common sense; but her political position was of immense importance, because she was the wife of the first monarch who ruled over the whole of the British isles. The Orkney and Shetland islands had fallen into the hands of the Danish King during the preceding century, and were yielded to James VI. of Scotland on condition of his marrying the Princess Anne.

These islands were of value because of their geographical position; for they had become the rendezvous of pirates, who found them convenient headquarters whence their raids could be made along the British coast.

Princess Anne's parents were Frederic II. of Denmark, one of the richest princes of Europe, and Sophia, a woman loved and admired for her domestic virtues. These royal parents had such luxurious ideas about the rearing of their children that although Anne was a strong, healthy child, well-formed in every respect, she was never permitted to walk until she was nine years of age.

A.D 1585. Negotiations for her marriage began when she was ten; and then it was thought proper to teach her to sew, read, and dance, before she could be regarded as an accomplished maid. James VI. was born at Edinburgh Castle, but the poor little unfortunate was early deprived of parental care; for while he was yet a baby his father, Lord Darnley, was killed, and his luckless mother, Mary Stuart, was forced to seek refuge in England.

At the early age of fourteen months James was proclaimed King of Scotland. On that occasion the Earl of Marr, his guardian, carried the infant in procession and placed him on the throne; another peer held the crown above his head, while a third placed the globe and sceptre in his little hands, and Lord Marr repeated the necessary oath in the name of the little one, who was then carried back to his nursery.

Of course little James was only king in name, for many years would have to pass before he would be fit to undertake the reins of government. Meanwhile, his uncle, the Earl of Murray, was appointed to act as regent. Unfortunately for the young king, he had a nurse who was by no means capable of taking charge of him, for she drank to excess and never controlled him or his diet properly. The consequence was that he developed slowly, and was such a weakling that he was full five years old before he could walk, and throughout his life his limbs were never as strong as they ought to have been. This defect may have been partly due, however, to the absurd manner of dressing infants three centuries ago in Scotland; for as soon as they were born they were swathed in bandages, with their arms bound down to their side and their legs close together and straight out, precisely after the manner of an Egyptian mummy. Is it any wonder that they were long in discovering the use of their limbs? In some parts of Germany babies are subjected to this cruel swaddling to the present day, but the arms are left free, and fortunately the custom is gradually going out of favor.

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Though backward in the use of his legs, little James talked wonderfully well, and soon learned to ask questions that were difficult to answer, and to make remarks that often seemed most profound for one of his age

A.D. 1571. He was just four years when he was called upon to perform regal duty by convening parliament. The Earl of Marr carried him to the grand Gothic hall of Stirling Castle, and placed him on the throne. He seemed impressed at the numerous assemblage of lords and gentlemen, but looked around as though to familiarize himself with the scene, and when the proper time came recited the speech that had been drilled into him beforehand. But he added a little impromptu speech of his own, for his eyes rested on a hole in the canopy above the throne, and he exclaimed aloud in his childish voice: "There is ane hole in this parliament." In the present day such a remark from the lips of a little boy might excite a smile, but certainly no great importance would be attached to it, but in the year 1571 the Scotch were very superstitious, and so they gazed at the infant monarch with amazement. "What could he possibly mean?" asked the wise lords of one another; for they never for one moment doubted that the spirit of prophesy had prompted the remark, and that the king foresaw an awful decrease in their numbers to be made by death.

In the course of the year the Earl of Lenox, James's grandfather, was killed, and that justified the royal child's remark in the eyes of the superstitious. The old earl was on his way to visit James, when he was stabbed in the back by conspirators. The brave Earl of Marr, attracted by the dying man's groans, rushed out from Stirling Castle with his servants and carried him to a place of safety. "Is the babe attacked?" asked the old man, and on being assured that he alone was the sufferer, he replied, with a sigh of relief, "Then all is well," and died soon after with perfect resignation.

The Earl of Marr was tutor to the king until he died, when he was succeeded by George Buchanan, a bad, morose, capricious man, who had such rigid ideas with regard to discipline that old Lady Marr, the earl's mother, often wept on account of his cruel treatment towards his pupil.

James had been removed to Stirling Castle during his infancy, and there he passed his youth. His favorite companion was Thomas Erskine, his foster-brother, who happened to be born on the same day as the young king, whose cradle and sports he shared. Another playmate was the young Earl of Marr, for whom James formed an attachment so warm and true that it lasted to the end of his life.

A.D. 1577. The civil and religious wars that were raging in Scotland had their effect on the young king, and, to some extent, appear to have injured his character; for he was, in consequence, under the control of some people whose influence was bad, and prompted him to authoritative manners that were out of place in one so young, and made him appear in a false light.

As he grew older he would at times pretend to be an imbecile, merely from a spirit of perversity; but he was neither a fool nor a coward, as he proved later.

He was only sixteen years of age when the Earl of Gowrie captured him, but he managed to make his escape and seek the protection of his great-uncle, the Earl of March. A revolution succeeded, and Gowrie was beheaded soon after.

A.D. 1580. Three years later, Frederic II. of Denmark sent ambassadors to Scotland to offer to the young king the hand of his second daughter in marriage. Queen Elizabeth opposed this alliance so violently that the marriage-treaty was delayed several years. She ought to have been pleased at the prospect of a Protestant wife for the future King of England, but it was her peculiarity to break off every match that she could influence.

Meanwhile, Henry of Navarre offered his sister Catherine for a wife to James; but as she was many years older than the young king, and as Anne of Denmark was just sixteen, and a miniature that had been sent to Scotland represented her as being very beautiful, the decision was quickly made in her favor.

Before the necessary arrangements could be completed her father, King Frederic, died.

A.D. 1589. The Earl-marischal of Scotland, accompanied by other dignitaries, proceeded, as proxies for James, with a noble fleet, to claim the young princess and carry her to Scotland. They were received with great joy by Queen Sophia, who, with Princess Anne, met them at the fortress of Corenburg. There the bride embarked on board a ship commanded by the Danish admiral, Peter Munch, who, with a fleet of eleven other fine ships, set sail for Scotland. It was in the month of September, and the sea was so rough that although the squadron sighted land in due season contrary winds blew them to the coast of Norway. Instead of attributing this occurrence to natural causes, Peter Munch was in a dreadful state of perplexity, and began to consider what witches he had offended to such an extent as to induce them to raise the winds and waves so that he could not bring the young queen to Scotland. Suddenly it occurred to him that he had boxed the ears of an officer at Copenhagen, whose wife was a well-known witch. He felt satisfied then that in order to avenge the insult to her husband the witch-wife had tampered with the winds, and so the unfortunate creature was burnt alive when he got back home. Having once determined that they were bewitched, nothing went well with the fleet, and a series of disasters reduced ten of the ships to such a deplorable condition that they returned to Denmark. The one in which the queen had sailed took refuge in a harbor on the coast of Norway, where, as the cold weather had already set in, there was every prospect that the bride would have to stay all the winter. She wrote an account of her sufferings to the King of Scotland, which a young Dane undertook to deliver in spite of witches and weather.

While expecting his wife King James had made grand preparations for her reception, and he was so disappointed at her delay that he resolved to go himself to fetch her. Now this was a brave undertaking, for the best ship that could be furnished was a miserable bark, scarcely fit to brave the wintry storms of the German ocean; however, a prosperous breeze favored the courageous king until he approached the Norwegian coast. He had enjoyed four days of fine weather, but on the fifth a furious tempest sprang up, and for twenty-four hours the royal bark was in danger of wreck. At last she ran into a little harbor, where King James landed.

After several days' travelling through snow and ice, he reached the village where Anne had established herself, and without waiting for the ceremonies of his rank and station, he left his attendants and marched straight to the presence of his bride. On the following Sunday they were married, and the king immediately, and very thoughtfully, sent a messenger over the mountains to Denmark to inform Queen Sophia of his arrival and marriage with the princess.

Her majesty then invited the newly-wedded pair to make her a visit. They consented, and set out upon a journey beset with so many hardships that they were obliged to halt several times before they reached the Castle of Croenburg, where all the royal family of Denmark had assembled to meet them.

All was gayety and splendor at the rich court, where the marriage of James and Anne was celebrated over again according to the Lutheran rites. Nothing interfered with their pleasure, excepting the quarrelsome spirit of the Scottish nobles who had accompanied the king. They all drank too freely, his majesty included, and there were frequent brawls and strifes among them.

It was not until after the wedding of Queen Anne's sister Elizabeth to the Duke of Brunswick, which took place early in the spring, that the Scottish bride and groom thought of proceeding to their future home.

The royal family of Denmark entertained such a warm affection for one another that when the moment of parting arrived it was a sore trial for the young queen to bid farewell to her loving mother, as well as to the young king, her brother, who was so fond of her that in later years he paid several long visits at her court.

The royal fleet sailed from Croenburg in April, and when the bridal pair landed a large crowd of faithful subjects assembled to welcome them to Scotland.

Shortly after, preparations for the queen's coronation were begun. On the Tuesday preceding that ceremony her majesty made her state-entry into the city of Edinburgh, riding in a richly gilt car, lined with crimson velvet; on either side of her sat her favorite Danish maids of honor. The king rode on horseback just in front of the queen's carriage, and a train of robles escorted the royal couple to Holyrood. The coronation ceremony was performed on the following Sunday at the Abbey church of Holyrood.

On the following Tuesday, accompanied by the king and all the lords and ladies who had assisted at her coronation, the queen passed through the streets of Edinburgh in an open coach.

At the end of a month passed in all sorts of festivities and rejoicings, the Danish visitors returned home, and Queen Anne went to live at Dunfermline Palace, which had been renovated and refurnished to suit her taste.

As the young queen's knowledge of household arrangements was necessarily limited, and as she was inexperienced concerning the customs of her new country, the king advised her always to consult his faithful friend and loyal subject, Sir James Melville, who held a high position in the royal household.

With the perversity that she showed on many occasions throughout her reign Queen Anne immediately took a decided aversion to Melville, and never in any emergency sought his advice.

There had been no queen at the Scottish court for a quarter of a century, consequently the men surrounding it had become so course and brutal in their manners that it was necessary to make many changes, and even to dismiss some of the most faithful officials before ladies could feel safe or comfortable.

A.D. 1590. Among the reformations that were taking place in Scotland, the destruction of all the works of art in the churches were deemed necessary; but no steps were taken to abolish the horrible superstition that led to the burning of hecatombs of witches. More than half the time of the judges was occupied with their absurd confessions. One of the most remarkable of these witches was Annis Simpson, called by her neighbors "the wise wife of Keith." She declared that she had a familiar spirit, who appeared in a visible form at her call, and informed her whether people who were ill or exposed to danger should

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live or die. The king asked her what words she used to summon the spirit. She replied: "That she merely called ''Holla, master!' and he came without fail." Then she proceeded to describe one of the witch meetings which, she said, was held at night in a church, where the devil in a long black gown, with a hat on his head, preached from the pulpit to an audience of witches. She added, furthermore, that one man got his ears boxed by the preacher because he thanked God that no harm had come to the king, though many had been injured. Thereupon the devil solemnly pronounced this sentence: "Il est un homme de Dieu." This was the more firmly credited because the woman did not understand what the words meant; therefore, it was argued, she could not have invented them. James was immensely flattered at being called a man of God by the evil spirit.

"The wise wife of Keith" was first strangled, and then burned in company with others whom she had accused.

A.D. 1592. One summer when Queen Anne was visiting at her palace of Falkland, Bothwell, a relation of the earl who was Mary Stuart's husband, made a furious attack on it. He was repulsed, but entered the stables and carried off all the horses. The queen was so annoyed at this rude adventure that she removed at once to Dalkeith. Margaret Twineslace, one of the Danish maids of honor, was engaged to be married to John Wemys, one of the king's gentlemen, who was known to be in constant communication with Bothwell. He was, therefore, suspected of knowing, at least, that the attack on Falkland was to take place, though there was no proof of his having participated. Still he was shut up in the guard-room of Dalkeith Castle, and every one thought his life was in danger.

One night, when it was Margaret's turn to sleep in the queen's bed-chamber, she waited until the royal pair were in the land of Nod, then softly stole out and went to her lover's prison, where she told the guard that the king had sent her to command them to lead John Wemys forthwith to the queen's apartment, where his majesty wished to question him. Never, for a moment, suspecting that they were deceived, two sentinels led the prisoner to the queen's chamber door. Margaret then charged them to remain outside quietly, and taking her lover by the hand, led him boldly into the room and closed the door. Without speaking a word she softly opened the window, and, presenting John with a rope, helped him to let himself down and escape.

The guard waited patiently until morning dawned, then raised the alarm, which led to the discovery of the little trick. The queen laughed heartily when she heard how Wemys had escaped, and begged the king to pardon him.

James himself was amused at the adventure, and issued a proclamation offering pardon to the escaped prisoner if he would return to his duties. This he did within a few days, and soon after married the Danish maid-of-honor who had risked so much for his sake.

A.D. 1594. In 1594 Queen Anne had a little son born at Stirling Castle. He was baptized according to the Episcopal ritual of Scotland, and named Henry-Frederic. The ceremony was conducted with great pomp, and after it was over the queen received all the foreign ambassadors. They brought costly presents, and Queen Elizabeth sent a set of silver and several cups of massive gold, so heavy that Sir James Melville declared he could hardly lift them.

The young queen loved her little son so tenderly that when she found it was her husband's intention to leave him at Stirling Castle to be cared for by the Earl of Marr and the old countess, his mother, she was sorely grieved and begged that she might keep the child with her. But the king refused, saying, "that he knew the infant was in safe keeping with Marr, and though he doubted nothing of her good intentions, yet if some faction got strong enough she could not hinder his boy from being used against him, as he himself had been against his unfortunate mother."

No doubt Anne ought to have been satisfied to make a virtue of necessity; but she could not understand any argument but that of her own heart, which prompted her to rebel against the Marrs because they had possession of her darling, A.D. 1595. She fretted and wept until the king was beside himself to know what was best to do. When little Henry was fifteen months old his mother requested that the question of his guardianship might be settled by council; but James was too shrewd to submit to that proceeding, so he urged the queen to satisfy the craving of her heart by going at once to Stirling Castle. But that was not what her majesty desired; therefore, she declared that she was not well, and refused to stir. James insisted, and obliged his wife to obey by superintending the arrangements for the journey and turning a deaf ear to all her objections. Finding that there was no help for it, Queen Anne set out on horseback with her train of attendants; but with her usual perversity she feigned illness, and stopped at a palace by the way. She was anxious to see her baby, no doubt, but could not bear that her husband should find her too yielding; so, on every occasion when he deemed it necessary to oppose her, she made him suffer for it. Yet James VI. was a devoted husband throughout his life, and never took a firm stand against his wife unless urgent reasons required it.

As soon as the Earl of Marr was informed of the queen's whereabouts he hastened to pay his respects to her; but she absolutely refused to see him, and her people treated him so uncivilly that he was glad to return to Stirling Castle. It was foolish in Queen Anne to insult her husband's most faithful friend and the man who had charge of her infant, but that was not the extent of her folly.

During the king's absence on his summer travels she actually went so far as to plan an expedition, which she meant to head, for the purpose of carrying off the infant prince by force. Fortunately, James heard of it in time to reach the place where his wife was stopping and bring her back to her senses. He at once accompanied her to Stirling Castle, where she was permitted to fondle little Henry as much as she pleased.

It was not unnatural that Queen Anne should want to keep her child with her; but she showed decided want of character in insisting upon it after the king had explained to her that the safety of his own person, the child, and the kingdom required this sacrifice at her hands. Had she taken pains to inform herself she would have seen that all the misfortunes of the preceding kings of the line of Stuart had arisen on account of their having been minors at the time of their accession. The throne had in each case been claimed for the son, which necessitated the destruction of the father and the appointment of a regent. Thus the strongest party had ruled according to their own ideas of justice.

It was to prevent the recurrence of such a miserable state of affairs that King James fortified his son in a well-guarded castle, under the supervision of such tried friends and loyal subjects as the Earl of Marr and his mother.

A.D. 1596. Anne's outbursts of temper because of this arrangement were for a time appeased, when her second child was born. It was a girl, and received the name of Elizabeth for the Queen of England. The infant princess was given in charge of Lord and Lady Livingstone, though the ministers of the Episcopal Church objected on the score of the latter's adherence to Catholicism. This child afterwards became Queen of Bohemia.

There were two people among Queen Anne's court who occupied a very prominent position, and were specially favored with her protection. These were Alexander and Beatrice Ruthven, members of a family in Scotland who claimed royal descent. The Ruthven family had attained the earldom of Gowry, and its members had aided in three separate assaults on the personal liberty of the sovereign; they were, therefore, the cause of a great deal of fighting and bloodshed.

A.D. 1597. Young Alexander became the object of King James's jealousy on one occasion. It occurred in this wise: "One day, when the queen was walking in the gardens of Falkland Palace with Beatrice Ruthven, they suddenly came upon the maid-of-honor's brother, Alexander, a youth of nineteen, who lay fast asleep beneath the shade of a large tree. For a bit of fun her majesty tied a silver ribbon around his neck, which had been given to her by the king, without arousing the sleeper. Presently King James himself came along. The silver ribbon caught his attention, he stooped to examine it, frowned, and looked angrily on the youth, who was, by the way, a gentleman-of-the-bed-chamber, then hurried on without waking young Ruthven. Beatrice, who had been anxiously watching this little scene from behind a neighboring bush, rushed forward, snatched the ribbon from her brother's neck, and hastened with it through a private entrance to the queen's room. Hurriedly opening a drawer, she deposited the ribbon therein, and had just time to inform her majesty 'that her reason for so doing would be presently explained,' when the king entered, and in a threatening tone demanded the silver ribbon. Luckily Anne was able to produce it, and thus dispel the angry frown that had gathered on the brow of her lord, no doubt congratulating herself upon the possession of so sagacious a maid-of-honor."

For the time being King James's jealousy was appeased; but the Gowry conspiracy aroused it again three years later, and Alexander Ruthven was again the object of it.

A.D. 1600. The queen was awakened much earlier than usual one bright, warm morning in August by the king's preparations for a hunting expedition. She asked "why he started so early;" to which he replied, "that he wished to be astir betimes, as he expected to kill a prime buck before noon."

It was true that he was going hunting, but he had another object in view. He had been informed by Alexander Ruthven that a Jesuit with a large bag of gold had just been seized and shut up at Gowry House, in Perth, awaiting examination. It was no unusual occurrence at that era for any one besides a common robber to take possession of whatever gold might be found on the person of a traveller, and then spare no effort to prove said traveller Jesuitical. So King James set forth in high glee with the prospect of counting over a bag of gold, besides enjoying a morning hunt. Several hours were passed in the latter diversion; and at noon, accompanied by only one or two attendants, the king left the woods and entered Gowry House. He was received by the Earl of Gowry, young Ruthven's elder brother, who had just returned from the court of Queen Elizabeth. After dinner, at a sign from Alexander Ruthven, the king withdrew, expecting to be introduced to the Jesuit with the gold. Unsuspectingly he followed the young man up various winding stairs and through gloomy, intricate passages to a circular room, used by the Go wry family as a prison. He was surprised, on entering, to behold a gigantic man in a complete suit of black armor, and still more so when Alexander closed the door and locked it, cutting off all retreat.

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He then made an assault upon the king,—who, though unarmed, kept him at bay,—and reproached him with the death of his father, the Earl of Gowry. The man in armor took no part in the struggle. The king remonstrated with Alexander, and reminded him that he was a child when the late Earl of Gowry was beheaded, and had nothing whatever to do with it. He also spoke of the affection the queen bore to his sister Beatrice, and of the kindness and attention he himself had received at court. Young Ruthven paused for a moment, then made a second attack upon the king, who would surely have been murdered but for the vigilance of his page, young Ramsay. This youth missed his royal master, and, suspecting some evil, sought him through the house. The king's voice, calling for help, guided the boy's steps to the circular chamber, which he entered through a private door, having forced it open. He flew at Alexander Ruthven and dragged him from the king's throat, shouting all the time for help. Some of the Gowry servants rushed upon the scene and assisted Ramsay, who was struggling with Alexander Ruthven. At this juncture the rest of the royal hunting party arrived, and broke open the door, but not until the Earl of Gowry, who proved to be the man in armor, and young Ruthven were slain.

A.D. 1601. This conspiracy created great consternation in Scotland. It was a dark, gloomy night when the king set out with his retinue to return to Falkland Palace; but all the people swarmed out of their houses with torches, and shouted with joy to behold their sovereign safe from the hands of traitors.

In 1601 a little prince was born at Dunfermline, who later became Charles I. of England.

A.D. 1603. A couple of years after this event Queen Elizabeth died, and King James was invited to come to London, and take possession of the crown under the title of James I.

Of course this was no surprise; it was an exaltation that had been eagerly anticipated by the royal family as well as the whole nation. Yet when the moment arrived for the king to bid farewell to his Scottish subjects, it was very like a father parting from a numerous family, and many tears were shed. On the Sunday before his departure from England a sermon was preached on the subject in church, to which King James responded, bidding his people a loving and tender farewell. He went to England alone, having arranged that the queen should follow in twenty days, providing his reception was such as to assure him that his family would be safe and happy. On his arrival there he was greeted with such wild demonstrations of joy that he was perfectly astonished. "These people will spoil a good king," was his pithy remark to the Earl of Marr, who had accompanied him.

No sooner was Queen Anne convinced that her son's guardian was well out of the way, than she set off for Stirling Castle, accompanied by a strong body of nobles, never doubting that she could easily intimidate the Countess of Marr into the surrender of her son Henry. But the old lady proved herself equal to the emergency, and flatly refused to give up the boy unless ordered to do so by the king himself. Some fighting ensued, and the queen flew into such a tremendous passion that she became seriously ill, and had to be put to bed in the royal apartments of the castle.

Messengers were forthwith despatched to inform the king of the condition of his silly, spoiled wife, and of the action that had occasioned her illness. With his usual forbearance, James forgave his spouse, and thought only of her illness. He immediately sent the Duke of Lenox and the Earl of Marr to see what arrangements they could make to pacify her majesty.

The royal lady not only refused to see Marr, but would not receive her son from his hands, nor travel from Stirling to Edinburgh if he were of the company,—so thoroughly did she hate one of her husband's most loyal adherents.

When this whim was conveyed to James, he swore a great many oaths, and wrote a letter of remonstrance to his better half, which, however, did not mollify her in the least. Then the royal husband compromised by ordering Marr to deliver the young prince to the Duke of Lenox, who would consign him with due ceremony to the queen, and then to hasten to England, where his presence was greatly needed.

This arrangement pacified Anne, and she removed at once to Holyrood to make preparations for leaving Scotland. These were completed in a couple of months.

Her majesty was met at Berwick by the ladies of Queen Elizabeth's court, who carried her the costumes and jewels of the defunct queen.

King James ordered that the queen's household should be settled before her entrance into London, so that she might be properly escorted on that occasion. But the royal pair could not agree as to the appointments, for Anne desired to retain her Scottish subjects in the principal posts of honor, and his majesty knew that the English would not submit to that arrangement.

He appointed Sir George Carew for the queen's chamberlain. Her majesty persisted in retaining Kennedy; whereupon James, whose patience had been sorely tried by the number of applicants who had presented themselves for confirmation, flew into a passion when Kennedy appeared before him. He bade him "Begone!" and added "that if he caught him carrying the chamberlain's staff before his wife he should take it out of his hand and break it over his pate."

The Scotchman very prudently made the best of his way back home, and then Queen Anne accepted the English chamberlain, but retained all her Scottish ladies, adding to their number only two of her new subjects.

Her two elder children accompanied her, and they were enthusiastically received everywhere. Among the presents that were generously bestowed on them were silver cups filled with gold-pieces. When they arrived at Althorpe an exquisite fête, prepared by Ben Jonson, awaited them. It was called the Masque of the Fairies, and took place in a magnificent park, where, accompanied by joyful music, fairies and satyrs recited appropriate poems of welcome, and made presents to the royal family.

The queen was so delighted with Ben Jonson's genius that she afterwards employed him to prepare entertainments for the amusement of her court.

The first festival held at Windsor Castle after the arrival of the royal family was for the purpose of bestowing the title of Knight of the Garter on Prince Henry, the Duke of Lenox, and other nobles.

The queen openly expressed her pride and admiration of Prince Henry when he was presented to her in the robes of the Garter, which she pronounced exceedingly becoming.

In consequence of the plague, which was raging to an alarming extent in England, the coronation was postponed from time to time, and when it did take place the usual procession from the Tower through the city to Westminster was dispensed with, and the ceremony was performed almost in private. The people were so disappointed that a grand festival was promised to them as soon as the pestilence should abate. It took place with great splendor the following spring, when the king, queen, and Prince Henry participated.

In the household of Anne of Denmark there was an office filled by an old lady called "the mother-of-the-maids," whose duty it was to keep order among the ladies,—no doubt an exceedingly difficult one.

The belle of the court was Lady Arabella Stuart, whose descent made her the next heir to the crown of England after James I. and his family. Previous to the arrival of James there had been a plot, headed by Sir Walter Raleigh, formed for the purpose of asserting that lady's claim; but that fact did not make any impression on the sovereign's mind that could affect her unfavorably; on the contrary, he distinguished her with marked favors, and allowed her, as she deserved, the rank of first lady at court after the queen.

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The conspirators of this plot were brought to trial during the autumn while the court was sojourning at Winchester Palace, and many of them were pardoned just at the moment when they were being led to the scaffold. King James did this to make them appreciate the full extent of his mercy, though many of them were banished afterwards. Sir Walter Raleigh was shut up in the Tower, with his sentence hanging over his head, to be carried into effect at the royal pleasure. He was not, however, deprived of his income or his actual property, because the queen interested herself in his behalf, and felt very sorry on account of the cruel treatment he had received from the attorney-general during his trial. It was supposed by some people that she, as well as Prince Henry, doubted his guilt, but there is no proof of that.

A.D. 1604. When Prince Charles was between three and four years of age his health was so bad that Sir Robert Carey and his wife, who had charge of the royal child, were ordered to bring him from Dunfermline to his parents. From that time he improved so rapidly that he soon became a robust boy; and as years went by, and he developed into manhood, he was distinguished for his graceful bearing and splendid constitution.

A.D. 1610. One of the proudest and happiest periods of Queen Anne's life was when her eldest son was created Prince of Wales. The event was celebrated with great splendor, and Ben Jonson wrote an address in verse, which was read, while a pantomime represented the prince as wakening and reviving the dying genius of chivalry.

The royal parents, the Princess and Prince Charles stood at the bridge by Westminster Palace to receive the prince when he arrived, escorted down the Thames in state by the lord-mayor and city authorities.

The gratified mother conducted him into the palace. A number of festivals succeeded, and the king introduced his son formally to the assembled houses of parliament during the following week.

A grand masque was given, in which all the ladies and gentlemen of the court took part, the music, painting, dancing, and decorations being guided and arranged by Inigo Jones, an architect of great talent. Even the queen and the princess-royal took part, and devoted several days to rehearsing the dances and situations and preparing costumes.

The object of this masque was to deliver presents to the newly-created Prince of Wales. The court ladies personated nymphs of the principal rivers that belonged to the estates of their husbands or fathers, and eight of the handsomest nobleman attended these river nymphs as Tritons.

Prince Charles appeared with a dozen young ladies of his own age and size. They were daughters of lords or barons, and personated the naiads of springs and fountains.

The prince, as Zephyr, wore a short robe of green satin, embroidered in gold; silver wings were attached to his shoulders, and a garland of flowers encircled his brow; on his right arm, which was bare, the queen had clasped a valuable diamond bracelet.

The naiads wore pale blue-satin tunics, embroidered in silver; their hair hung in loose tresses, and water-lilies crowned their heads. These children danced a ballet,—Prince Charles always occupying the centre of a group,—which was enthusiastically applauded by the whole court.

Prince Charles's next duty was to offer to his brother, the Prince of Wales, the queen's present, which consisted of a jewelled sword, valued at four thousand pounds, attached to a scarf of her majesty's own work. He also presented a gold trident to the king as ruler of the ocean. This presentation was made during an address by one of the Tritons.

Her majesty was then invited to descend from the throne and dance her ballet with her water-nymphs. This was succeeded by another dance of the little naiads, and the entertainment concluded with the queen's quadrille. The summer morning had dawned when the gay party dispersed.

A.D. 1612. Two years later the Prince of Wales, that youth of eighteen, who was the joy of his parents and the pride of the whole nation, was attacked with the worst and most malignant form of typhus fever, which resulted in his death on the 5th of November, 1612.

It was the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot, and the procession of grotesque figures presented a strange contrast, as they swarmed around St. James's Palace, to the sad scene that was enacted within. When at last young Henry's death was announced, loud lamentations filled the air, and those who had left their homes to mingle with the festivities of the day returned bowed down with grief.

It was many months before the poor queen recovered from the shock produced by the death of her dearly-beloved boy, and she was still so depressed when the marriage of her daughter was solemnized that she was scarcely fit to be present. However, she aroused herself for that occasion; but the reaction was so great after the departure of the princess from England that she was ordered to Bath by her physicians. The change proved of great benefit, and by the end of the summer her majesty had regained her health and spirits.

Sometimes she shot at the deer from a stand. On one occasion she missed her aim, and hit the king's favorite hound. No one dared to announce the dreadful accident to his majesty, but he discovered the dead animal, and stormed so outrageously that it was many minutes before he could be informed whose hand had sent the deadly arrow. He was instantaneously mollified, and not only sent his beloved spouse a most affectionate message, but followed it with a jewel worth two thousand pounds, pretending it was a legacy to her from his dear, dead dog.

A.D. 1614. A visit from her brother, the King of Denmark, gave the queen a great deal of pleasure. His sole object in going to England was to see her, whom he loved very dearly. He travelled incognito, and although one of the queen's attendants recognized him after his arrival at the palace, and told his sister of his presence, she would not believe it until he stole up behind her chair and gave her a kiss. The king, who was travelling through the country, was summoned home forthwith to receive his royal guest, and on his return there was a fortnight of hunting, bear-baiting, hawking, plays, and feasts. Just before his departure the King of Denmark entertained the English court at his own expense with the finest display of fireworks that had ever been witnessed in their country. After this visit Queen Anne never saw her brother again, though she corresponded with him until her death.

It was while King James was on a visit to his native land, where he went for the purpose of establishing parish schools, that his wife's health began to fail. Three years previously her physicians had treated her for dropsy, from which she had never entirely recovered, and now a dreadful cough was added to the other malady. She was hastily removed to Hampton Court, where she was tenderly cared for. After his return, the king went to visit his wife two or three times a week, when he was well enough to do so, but his health was by no means good, for he had gout in his knees.

A.D. 1618. About this time the poor sick queen received a most touching appeal from Sir Walter Raleigh, whose death-sentence was about to be carried into effect. It was written in verse, and ended thus:—

"Save him who would have died for your defence!

Save him whose thoughts no treason ever tainted."

Queen Anne interceded for Sir Walter in vain, though she asked as a personal favor that his life might be spared,

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for he was beheaded on the 29th of October, 1618. It is not reported how her majesty bore the news of Sir Walter's death; but her own was so near at hand that she probably viewed all affairs of this world with calmness and resignation, and turned her thoughts to the future state.

King James was not with his wife during her last moments, but Prince Charles kneeled at her bedside and received her dying blessing. She was conscious to the end, and when the Bishop of London prayed, he said: "Madame, make a sign that your majesty is one with your God, and long to be with him." She held up her hands, and when one failed she raised the other until both dropped, and she was no more.

The royal corpse was taken to Somerset House, where it lay in state for three days, and was then carried to the grave by ten knights, followed by most of the nobility then sojourning in London. The Countess of Arundel was chief lady mourner, and walked between the Duke of Lenox and the Marquis of Hamilton. All the ladies of the royal household came after, and as each one was enveloped in from twelve to sixteen yards of heavy black cloth, it was difficult for them to walk even at a funeral gait. Prince Charles preceded the funeral car, which was drawn by six horses, and the Archbishop of Canterbury walked by his side. The queen's riding horse was led by one of the officers of her household, and half a dozen heralds carried banners and flags bound with crepe just behind the pall.

Queen Anne of Denmark died in the forty-sixth year of her age, and was buried at Westminster Abbey. She left two children, one who became Charles I. of England, and the other was Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia.


CHAPTER VI. HENRIETTA MARIA, QUEEN-CONSORT OF CHARLES I., KING OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND