At length towards evening our lady and her husband were conveyed into another apartment, and the valet into the body-guard loaded with irons. They were there together thirteen weeks, until Fos received orders from the Court to separate them; meanwhile, he encased the prisons in iron. I may well use such a term, for he caused plates of iron to be placed on the walls, double bars and irons round the windows.[38] When he had permission to separate them, he entered one day to begin a quarrel, and spoke of the past; our lady begged him not to say more, but he would go on; he was determined to quarrel. He said to her, ‘Madame, you are so haughty, I will humble you; I will make you so—so small,’ and he made a measurement with his hand from the floor. ‘You have been lifted up and I will bring you down.’ She laughed, and said, ‘You may do with me whatever you will, but you can never humble me so that I shall cease to remember that you were a servant of a servant of the King my father;’ at last, he so forgot himself as to hold his fist in her face. She said to him, keeping her hand on her knife which she had in her pocket, ‘Make use of your foul mouth and accursed tongue, but keep your hands quiet.’ He drew back, and made a profound bow in ridicule, calling her ‘your grace,’ asked her pardon, and what he had to fear. She said, ‘You have nothing to fear; if you take liberties, you will meet with resistance—feeble enough, but such as I have strength to give you.’
After some further invectives, he said farewell, and begged they might be good friends; he came once more and conducted himself in the same manner, but less violently. He said to a captain who was present, of the name of Bolt, that he did it expressly in order to have a quarrel with her husband, that he might revenge himself for her conduct upon him, but that her husband would not speak to him. At length the unhappy day of their separation came, and Fos entered to tell them that they must be prepared to bid each other a final farewell, for that he had orders to separate them, and in this life they would never see each other again; he gave them an hour to converse together for the last time. You can easily imagine what passed in this hour; but as they had been prepared for this separation weeks before, having been warned of it by their guard with whom they could talk, it did not surprise them. Our lady had gained over four of the guards, who were ready to let them escape easily enough, but her husband would not undertake it, always saying that he had no strength, but that she might do it. Well, they had to abide by it; after this sad day[39] they were separated, he in one prison below and she in another above, one above another, bars before the windows, he without a servant, and she without a waiting woman.
About three weeks after, our lady fell ill; she requested a woman or girl to wait upon her, and a priest. Fos sent answer, with regard to a woman or girl to wait upon her, he did not know anyone who would do it, but that there was a wench who had killed her child, and who would soon be beheaded, and if she wished for her, she could have her. As to a priest, he had no orders, and she would have no priest even if death were on her lips. Our lady said nothing but ‘Patience; I commend it to God.’ Our lady had the happiness of being able to give her husband signs daily, and to receive such, and when the wind was not too strong they could speak to one another. They spoke Italian together, and took their opportunity before the reveille. Towards the close of the governorship of this villain, he was informed of this. He then had a kind of machine made which is used to frighten the cattle from the corn in the summer, and which makes a great noise, and he desired the sentinel to move this machine in order to hinder them hearing each other.
Fifteen days before Count Rantzow came to Borringholm to treat with them, Fos had news of it from Copenhagen from his intimate friend Jaques P...; he visited our lady, told her on entering that her children had been expelled from Skaane by the Swedes; our lady said, ‘Well, the world is wide, they will find a place elsewhere.’ He then told her that Bolt had come from Copenhagen with the tidings that they would never be let at liberty; she replied, ‘Never is a long time; this imprisonment will not last a hundred years, much less an eternity—in the twinkling of an eye much may change; the hand of God, in whom are the hearts of kings, can change everything.’ He said, ‘You have plenty of hope; you think perhaps if the King died, you would be free?’ She replied, ‘God preserve the King. I believe that he will give me liberty, and no one else.’ He chatted about a great many things, and played the flatterer.
At length Count Rantzow came and made a stay at Borringh... of eleven weeks. He visited the prisoners, and did them the favour of having the husband to dine with him, and in the evening our lady supped with him, and he conferred with them separately. Our lady asked him of what she was accused; he replied, ‘Will you ask that? that is not the way to get out of Borringholm; do you know that you have said the King is your brother? and kings do not recognise either sisters or brothers.’ She replied, ‘To whom had I need to say that the King is my brother? who is so ignorant in Denmark as not to know that? I have always known, and know still, the respect that is due to the King; I have never given him any other title than my King and Lord; I have never called him my brother, in speaking of him; kings are gracious enough to recognise their sisters and brothers as such; for example, the King of England gives the title of sister to his brother’s wife, although she is of very mediocre extraction.[40] Rantzow replied, ‘Our King does not wish it, and he does not know yet the truth about Dina’s affair.’ She said, ‘I think the King does not wish to know.’ He replied, ‘Indeed, by God he desires with all his heart to be informed of it.’ She answered, ‘If the King will desire Walter to tell him, and this with some earnestness, he will be informed of it.’ Rantzow made no reply.
When he had concluded everything with her husband, whom he had obliged to yield up all his possessions, Rantzow acquainted our lady with the fact; she said that her husband had power to give up what was his, but that the half belonged to her, and that this she would not give up, not being able to answer for it before God nor before her children; she had committed no crime; liberty should be given to her husband for the half of their lands, and that if the King thought he could retain her with a good conscience she would endure it. Rantzow with a serious air replied, ‘Do not think that your husband will ever be set at liberty, if you do not sign with him.’ She said that the conditions were too severe; that they should do better for their children to die as prisoners, God and all the world knowing their innocence, than to leave so many children beggars. Rantzow said, ‘If you die in prison, all your lands and property are forfeited, and your children will have nothing; but at this moment you can have your liberty, live with your husband; who knows, the King may still leave you an estate, and may always show you favour, when he sees that you yield to his will.’ Our lady said that since there was no other prospect for her husband’s liberty, she would consent. Rantzow ordered her husband and herself separately to place in writing the complaints they had to bring forward against Fos, and all that had happened with regard to their attempt at escape; which was done. Our lady was gracious in her demeanour to Fos, but her husband could not make up his mind even to speak to him. Rantzow returned to Copenh... and eighteen days afterwards the galley of Gabel came with orders to the new governor (Lieutenant-Colonel Lytkens, a very well-bred man and brave soldier, his wife a noble lady of the Manteuffel family, very polite and pretty), that he should make the prisoners sign the papers sent, and when the signature was done, should send them on together.
The governor sent first to the husband, as was befitting, who made difficulties about signing because they had added points here and there, and among other things principally this, that they were never to plead against Fos. The husband said he would rather die. The good governor went in search of the wife and told her everything, begging her to speak to her husband from the window; when he knew that she had spoken to him, he would return. She thanked the governor, and when he had gone out she spoke to her husband, and persuaded him to sign. Then the governor made her sign also; and after that, towards nine o’clock in the evening, her husband came to her, having been separated just twenty-six weeks.[41] They were separated on a Saturday, and they met again on a Saturday. Fos was still at the castle; it is easy to believe that he was in great rage. Time does not permit to dwell on it. Two days afterwards they embarked and came to Copenhagen, and were received on the Custom-house pier by C. Rantzow and Gabel. The Queen knew nothing of it. When she was told of it she was so angry that she would not go to table. In a few words the King held his ground, and as she would not accept the thanks of Monsieur and his wife, the King ordered her to receive them in writing. They spent the Christmas of 1660 in the house of C. Rantzow. Afterwards they went to Fyen, to the estate of Ellensborg, which was graciously left to them.[42]
Her husband having permission to go to France to take the waters for eighteen months, left Ell... with his family in the month of June 1662, and landed at Amsterdam. Our lady went from thence to Bruges to hire a house, and returned to Amsterdam. Her daughter Helena fell ill of the small-pox; she remained with her, and her husband and the other children went to Bruges. When her daughter had recovered, she went to rejoin her husband and children. She accompanied her husband, who went to France. Having arrived at Paris, the doctors did not find it advisable that he should take the waters, and he returned to Bruges. Her husband begged our lady to make a journey to England, and to take her eldest son with her. She raised obstacles, and showed him plainly that she should obtain nothing; that she should only be at great expense. She had examples before her which showed her that the King of England would never pay her husband. He would not have been turned from his purpose at this time but for their son’s rencontre with Fos, which prevented the journey that winter, and postponed the misfortunes of our lady, though it did not ultimately prevent them.
But towards the spring the same design was again brought forward; our lady was assisted by the nobleman who followed her afterwards[43] in dissuading her husband; but no reasoning could avail; he believed the King could not forget the benefits received, and refuse to pay his cousin. Our lady prepared for her departure, since her husband wished it. The day that she bade him her last farewell—a fatal day, indeed—her husband’s heart did not tell him that these would be the last embraces he would give her, for he was so satisfied and so full of joy that she and all were astonished. She, on the contrary, was sad. The last day of their intercourse was May 24, 1663. She had many contretemps at first, and some time elapsed before she had the honour of speaking to the King.
The King greeted her after the fashion of the country, treated her as his cousin,[44] and promised her all sorts of satisfaction; that he would send his secretary[45] to her to see her papers, which he did. The secretary made her fine promises, but the time was always postponed. The minister resident, Petkum, minister of the King of Danem..., came to visit her (he had placed some obstacles in the way of her demands, from what was told her). She showed him her papers, informed him of the affair, told him that the King of Denmark had had all the papers in his hands, and had graciously returned them. The traitor made a semblance of understanding the affair, and promised that he would himself help in securing the payment of her demands. But this Judas always intended to betray her, asking her if she did not like to make excursions, speaking to her of beautiful houses, gardens and parks, and offering her his coach. But our lady was not inclined to make excursions.