A RECORD OF SUFFERING;
OR, A REMINISCENCE OF ALL THAT OCCURRED TO ME, LEONORA CHRISTINA, IN THE BLUE TOWER, FROM AUGUST 8 OF THE YEAR 1663, TO JUNE 11[57] OF THE YEAR 1674.
The past is rarely remembered without sorrow, for it has been either better or worse than the present. If it was more joyous, more happy, and full of honour, its remembrance justly saddens us, and in proportion as the present is full of care, unhappiness, and dishonour. If past times were sadder, more miserable, and more deplorable than the present, the remembrance of them is equally sorrowful, for we recover and feel once more all the past misfortunes and adversities which have been endured in the course of time. But all things have, as it were, two handles by which they may be raised, as Epictetus says. The one handle, he says, is bearable; the other is not bearable; and it rests with our will which handle we grasp, the bearable or the unbearable one. If we grasp the bearable one, we can recall all that is transitory, however sad and painful it may have been, rather with joy than with sorrow.[E7] So I will seize the bearable handle, and in the name of Jesus I will pass rapidly through my memory, and recount all the wretchedness and misery, all the grief, scorn and suffering, contempt and adversity, which have befallen me in this place, and which I have overcome with God’s help. I will, moreover, in no wise grieve over it; but, on the contrary, I will remind myself at every step of the goodness of God, and will thank the Most High who has been constantly near me with His mighty help and consolation; who has ruled my heart, that it should not depart from God; who has preserved my mind and my reason, that it has not become obscured; who has maintained my limbs in their power and natural strength, and even has given, and still gives me, repose of mind and joyfulness. To Thee, incomprehensible God, be honour and praise for ever!
DAS ALTE SCHLOSS IN COPENHAGEN
MIT DEM BLAUEN THURM.
And now to proceed with my design. I consider it necessary to begin the record of my sufferings with the commencement of the day which concluded with the fatal evening of my captivity, and to mention somewhat of that which befell me on the vessel. After the captain had cast anchor a little outside the pier of St. Anna, on August 8, 1663, at nine o’clock in the forenoon, he was sent on shore with letters by Peter Dreyer, who was commissioned by Petcon, at that time the minister resident in England, of his Majesty the King of Denmark, to take charge of me. I dressed myself and sat down in one of the cabins of the sailors on the deck, with a firm resolution to meet courageously all that lay before me;[58] yet I in no wise expected what happened; for although I had a good conscience, and had nothing evil with which to reproach myself, I had at various times asked the before-mentioned Peter Dreyer the reason why I had been thus brought away. To this question he always gave me the reply which the traitor Braten had given me at Dover (when I asked of him the cause of my arrest); namely, that I was, perhaps, charged with the death of Major-General Fux, and, that it was thought I had persuaded my son to slay him; saying, that he knew of no other cause. At twelve o’clock Nils Rosenkrantz, at that time Lieutenant-Colonel, and Major Steen Anderson Bilde, came on board with some musketeers. Lieutenant-Colonel Rosenkrantz did not salute me. The Major walked up and down and presently passed near me. I asked him, en passant, what was the matter? He gave me no other answer than, ‘Bonne mine, mauvais jeu;’ which left me just as wise as before. About one o’clock Captain Bendix Alfeldt came on board with several more musketeers, and after he had talked some time with Peter Dreyer, Dreyer came to me and said, ‘It is ordered that you should go into the cabin.’ I said, ‘Willingly;’ and immediately went. Soon after, Captain Alfeldt came in to me, and said he had orders to take from me my letters, my gold, silver, money, and my knife. I replied, ‘Willingly.’ I took off my bracelets and rings, gathered in a heap all my gold, silver, and money, and gave it to him. I had nothing written with me, except copies of the letters which I had addressed to the King of England, notes respecting one thing or another relating to my journey, and some English vocabularies; these I also gave up to him. All these Alfeldt placed in a silver utensil which I had with me, sealed it in my presence, and left the vessel with it. An hour, or somewhat more, afterwards, Major-General Friderich von Anfeldt,[59] Commandant in Copenhagen, arrived, and desired that I should come to him outside the cabin. I obeyed immediately. He greeted me, gave me his hand, and paid me many compliments, always speaking French. He was pleased to see me in health, he feared the sea might have inconvenienced me; I must not allow the time to seem long to me; I should soon be accommodated otherwise. I caught at the last word and said, smiling, ‘Monsieur says otherwise, but not better.’ ‘Yes, indeed,’ he replied, ‘you shall be well accommodated; the noblest in the kingdom will visit you.’ I understood well what he meant by this, but I answered: ‘I am accustomed to the society of great people, therefore that will not appear strange to me.’ Upon this, he called a servant and asked for the before-mentioned silver utensil (which Captain Alfeldt had taken away with him). The paper which Captain Alfeldt had sealed over it was torn off. The Major-General turned to me, and said: ‘Here you have your jewels, your gold, silver, and money back; Captain Alfeldt made a mistake—they were only letters which he had orders to demand, and these only have been taken out, and have been left at the Castle; you may dispose of the rest as you wish yourself.’ ‘In God’s name,’ I answered, ‘am I, therefore, at liberty to put on again my bracelets and rings?’ ‘O Jesus,’ he said, ‘they are yours; you may dispose of them as you choose.’ I put on the bracelets and rings, and gave the rest to my attendant. The Major-General’s delight not only appeared in his countenance, but he was full of laughter, and was overflowing with merriment. Among other things he said that he had had the honour of making the acquaintance of two of my sons; that he had been in their society in Holland; and he praised them warmly. I complimented him in return, as was proper, and I behaved as if I believed that he was speaking in good faith. He indulged in various jokes, especially with my attendant; said that she was pretty, and that he wondered I could venture to keep such a pretty maiden; when Holstein ladies kept pretty maids it was only to put their husbands in good humour; he held a long discourse on how they managed, with other unmannerly jests which he carried on with my attendant. I answered nothing else [than] that he probably spoke from experience. He said all kinds of foolish jokes to my servant, but she did not answer a word. Afterwards the prison governor told me that he (von Anfeldt) had made the King believe, at first, that my attendant was my daughter, and that the King had been long of that opinion. At length, after a long conversation, the Major-General took his leave, saying that I must not allow the time to seem long to me; that he should soon come again; and he asked what he should say to his Majesty the King. I begged him to recommend me in the best manner to their Majesties’ favour, adding that I knew not well what to say or for what to make request, as I was ignorant of what intentions they had with regard to me. Towards three o’clock Major-General von Anfeldt returned; he was full of laughter and merriment, and begged me to excuse him for being so long away. He hoped the time had not appeared long to me; I should soon get to rest; he knew well that the people (with this he pointed to the musketeers, who stood all along both sides of the vessel) were noisy, and inconvenienced me, and that rest would be best for me. I answered that the people did not inconvenience me at all; still I should be glad of rest, since I had been at sea for thirteen days, with rather bad weather. He went on with his compliments, and said that when I came into the town his wife would do herself the honour of waiting on me, and, ‘as it seems to me,’ he continued, ‘that you have not much luggage with you, and perhaps, not the clothes necessary, she will procure for you whatever you require.’ I thanked him, and said that the honour was on my side if his wife visited me, but that my luggage was as much as I required at the time; that if I needed anything in the future, I hoped she might be spared this trouble; that I had not the honour of knowing her, but I begged him, nevertheless, to offer her my respects. He found various subjects of discourse upon Birgitte Speckhans[E8] and other trifles, to pass away the time; but it is not worth the trouble to recall them to mind, and still less to write them down. At last a message came that he was to conduct me from the vessel, when he said to me with politeness: ‘Will it please you, madame, to get into this boat, which is lying off the side of the ship?’ I answered, ‘I am pleased to do anything that I must do, and that is commanded by His Majesty the King.’ The Major-General went first into the boat, and held out his hand to me; the Lieutenant-Colonel Rosenkrantz, Captain Alfeldt, Peter Dreyer, and my attendant, went with me in the boat. And as a great crowd of people had assembled to look at the spectacle, and many had even gone in boats in order to see me as they wished, he never took his eyes off me; and when he saw that I turned sometimes to one side and sometimes to another, in order to give them this pleasure, he said, ‘The people are delighted.’ I saw no one truly who gave any signs of joy, except himself, so I answered, ‘He who rejoices to-day, cannot know that he may not weep to-morrow; yet I see, that, whether for joy or sorrow, the people are assembling in crowds, and many are gazing with amazement at one human being.’ When we were advanced a little further, I saw the well-known wicked Birgitte Ulfeldt,[E9] who exhibited great delight. She was seated in an open carriage; behind her was a young man, looking like a student. She was driving along the shore. When I turned to that side, she was in the carriage and laughed with all her might, so that it sounded loudly. I looked at her for some time, and felt ashamed of her impudence, and at the disgrace which she was bringing on herself; but for the rest, this conduct did not trouble me more than the barking of the dogs, for I esteemed both equally.[60] The Major-General went on talking incessantly, and never turned his eyes from me; for he feared (as he afterwards said) that I should throw myself into the water. (He judged me by himself; he could not endure the change of fortune, as his end testified, for it was only on account of an honorary title which another received in his stead that he lost his mind. He did not know that I was governed by another spirit than he, which gave me strength and courage, whilst the spirit he served led him into despair.[61]) When the boat arrived at the small pier near the office of the Exchequer, Captain Alfeldt landed and gave me his hand, and conducted me up towards the castle bridge. Regiments of horse and foot were drawn up in the open place outside the castle; musketeers were standing on both sides as I walked forwards. On the castle bridge stood Jockum Walburger, the prison governor, who went before me; and as the people had placed themselves in a row on either side up to the King’s Stairs, the prison governor made as if he were going thither; but he turned round abruptly, and said to Alfeldt, ‘This way,’ and went to the gate of the Blue Tower; stood there for some time and fumbled with the key; acted as if he could not unlock it, in order that I might remain as long as possible a spectacle to the people. And as my heart was turned to God, and I had placed all my confidence in the Most High, I raised my eyes to heaven, sought strength, power, and safety from thence, and it was graciously vouchsafed me. (One circumstance I will not leave unnoticed—namely, that as I raised my eyes to heaven, a screaming raven flew over the Tower, followed by a flock of doves, which were flying in the same direction.) At length, after a long delay, the prison governor opened the Tower gate, and I was conducted into the Tower by the before-mentioned Captain Alfeldt. My attendant, who was preparing to follow me, was called back by Major-General von Anfeldt, and told to remain behind. The prison governor went up the stairs, and showed Alfeldt the way to a prison for malefactors, to which the name of the ‘Dark Church’ has been given. There Alfeldt quitted me with a sigh and a slight reverence. I can truly say of him that his face expressed pity, and that he obeyed the order unwillingly. The clock was striking half-past five when Jockum closed the door of my prison. I found before me a small low table, on which stood a brass candlestick with a lighted candle, a high chair, two small chairs, a fir-wood bedstead without hangings and with old and hard bedding, a night-stool and chamber utensil. At every side to which I turned I was met with stench; and no wonder, for three peasants who had been imprisoned here, and had been removed on that very day, and placed elsewhere, had used the walls for their requirements. Soon after the door had been closed, it was opened again, and there entered Count Christian Rantzow, Prime Minister, Peter Zetz, Chancellor, Christoffer von Gabel, at that time Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Erich Krag, at that time Secretary, all of whom gave me their hands with civility. The Chancellor spoke and said: ‘His Royal Majesty, my gracious master and hereditary king, sends you word, madame, that His Majesty has great cause for what he is doing against you, as you will learn.’ I replied: ‘It is much to be regretted by me, if cause should be found against me; I will, however, hope that it may not be of such a kind that His Majesty’s displeasure may be lasting. When I know the cause I can defend myself.’ Count Rantzow answered: ‘You will obtain permission to defend yourself.’ He whispered something to the Chancellor, upon which the Chancellor put a few questions: first, Whether on my last journey I had been in France with my husband? To which I answered in the affirmative. Then, What my husband was doing there? To which I replied, that he was consulting physicians about his health, whether it would be serviceable to him to use the warm baths in the country, which no one would advise him to do; he had even been dissuaded from trying them by a doctor in Holland of the name of Borro,[E10] when he had asked his opinion. Thirdly, What I had purposed doing in England? To this I replied that my intention had been to demand payment of a sum of money which the King of England owed us, and which we had lent him in the time of his misfortune. Fourthly, Who had been in England with me? I mentioned those who were with me in England—namely, a nobleman named Cassetta, my attendant who had come hither with me, a lacquey named Frantz, who had remained in England, and the nobleman’s servant. Fifthly, Who visited my husband in Bruges? I could not exactly answer this, as my lord received his visits in a private chamber, where I was not admitted. Count Rantzow said, ‘You know, I suppose, who came to him oftenest?’ I answered, that the most frequent visitors among those I knew were two brothers named Aranda,[E11] the before-mentioned Cassetta, and a nobleman named Ognati. Sixthly the Chancellor asked, With whom I had corresponded here in the country? To which I answered, that I had written to H. Hendrick Bielcke, to Olluff Brockenhuuss, Lady Elsse Passberg, and Lady Marie Ulfeldt;[E12] I did not remember any more. Count Rantzow enquired if I had more letters than those which I had given up? To which I answered in the negative, that I had no more. He asked further, Whether I had more jewels with me than those he had seen? I answered that I had two strings of small round pearls on my hat, and a ring with a diamond, which I had given a lieutenant named Braten in Dover (it was he who afterwards betrayed me). Count Rantzow asked, How much the pearls might have been worth? This I could not exactly say. He said, that he supposed I knew their approximate value. I said they might be worth 200 rix-dollars, or somewhat more. Upon this they were all silent for a little. I complained of the severity of my imprisonment, and that I was so badly treated. Count Rantzow answered, ‘Yes Madame, His Royal Majesty has good cause for it; if you will confess the truth, and that quickly, you may perhaps look for mercy. Had Maréchal de Birron[E13] confessed the matter respecting which he was interrogated by order of the King, when the royal mercy was offered to him if he would speak the truth, it would not have fared with him as it did. I have heard as a truth that the King of France would have pardoned him his crime, had he confessed at once; therefore, bethink yourself, madame!’ I answered, ‘Whatever I am asked by order of His Majesty, and whatever I am cognizant of, I will gladly say in all submission.’ Upon this Count Rantzow offered me his hand, and I reminded him in a few words of the severity of my imprisonment. Count Rantzow promised to mention this to the King. Then the others shook hands with me and went away. My prison was closed for a little. I therefore profited by the opportunity, and concealed here and there in holes, and among the rubbish, a gold watch, a silver pen which gave forth ink and was filled with ink, and a scissor-sheath worked with silver and tortoiseshell. This was scarcely done when the door was again opened, and there entered the Queen’s Mistress of the Robes, her woman of the bed-chamber, and the wife of the commissariat clerk, Abel Catharina. I knew the last. She and the Queen’s woman of the bed-chamber carried clothes over their arm; these consisted of a long dressing-gown stitched with silk, made of flesh-coloured taffeta and lined with white silk, a linen under-petticoat, printed over with a black lace pattern, a pair of silk stockings, a pair of slippers, a shift, an apron, a night-dress, and two combs. They made me no greeting. Abel Cath. spoke for them, and said: ‘It is the command of Her Majesty the Queen that we should take away your clothes, and that you should have these in their place.’ I answered, ‘In God’s name!’ Then they removed the pad from my head, in which I had sown up rings and many loose diamonds. Abel Cath. felt all over my head to see if anything was concealed in my hair; then she said to the others, ‘There is nothing there; we do not require the combs.’ Abel Cath. demanded the bracelets and rings, which were a second time taken from me. I took them off and gave them to them, except one small ring which I wore on the last joint of my little finger, and which could not be worth more than a rix-dollar, this I begged to be allowed to keep. ‘No,’ said the Mistress of the Robes, ‘You are to retain nothing.’ Abel Cath. said, ‘We are strictly forbidden to leave you the smallest thing; I have been obliged to swear upon my soul to the Queen that I would search you thoroughly, and not leave you the smallest thing; but you shall not lose it; they will all be sealed up and kept for you, for this I swear the Queen has said.’ ‘Good, good, in God’s name!’ I answered. She drew off all my clothes. In my under-petticoat I had concealed some ducats under the broad gold lace; there was a small diamond ornament in my silk [camisole], in the foot of my stockings there were some Jacobuses’, and there were sapphires in my shoes. When she attempted to remove my chemise, I begged to be allowed to retain it. No; she swore upon her soul that she dared not. She stripped me entirely, and the Mistress of the Robes gave Abel Cath. a nod, which she did not at once understand; so the Mistress of the Robes said: ‘Do you not remember your orders?’ Upon this, Abel Cath. searched my person still more closely, and said to the lady in waiting: ‘No, by God! there is nothing there.’ I said: ‘You act towards me in an unchristian and unbecoming manner.’ Abel Cath. answered: ‘We are only servants; we must do as we are ordered; we are to search for letters and for nothing else; all the rest will be given back to you; it will be well taken care of.’ After they had thus despoiled me, and had put on me the clothes they had brought, the servant of the Mistress of the Robes came in and searched everywhere with Abel Cath., and found every thing that I had concealed. God blinded their eyes so that they did not observe my diamond earrings, nor some ducats which had been sown into leather round one of my knees; I also saved a diamond worth 200 rix-dollars; while on board the ship I had bitten it out of the gold, and thrown the gold in the sea; the stone I had then in my mouth.[62]
The Mistress of the Robes was very severe; they could not search thoroughly enough for her. She laughed at me several times, and could not endure that I sat down, asking whether I could not stand, and whether anything was the matter with me. I answered, ‘There is only too much the matter with me, yet I can stand when it is necessary.’ (It was no wonder that the Mistress of the Robes could so well execute the order to plunder, for she had frequently accompanied her deceased husband. Colonel Schaffshaussen[E14], in war.) When she had searched every part thoroughly, they took all my clothes, except a taffeta cap for the head, and went away. Then the prison governor came in with his hat on, and said, ‘Leonora, why have you concealed your things?’ I answered him not a word; for I had made the resolution not to answer him, whatever he might say; his qualities were known to me; I was aware that he was skilful in improving a report, and could twist words in the manner he thought would be acceptable, to the damage of those who were in trouble. He asked again with the same words, adding ‘Do you not hear?’ I looked at him over my shoulder, and would not allow his disrespect to excite me. The table was then spread, and four dishes were brought in, but I had no appetite, although I had eaten little or nothing the whole day.
An hour afterwards, when the dishes had been carried away, a girl came in named Maren Blocks, and said that she had orders from the Queen to remain the night with me. The prison governor joked a good deal with the before-mentioned Maren, and was very merry, indulging in a good deal of loose talk. At last, when it was nearly ten o’clock, he said good night and closed the two doors of my prison, one of which is cased with copper. When Maren found herself alone with me, she pitied my condition, and informed me that many, whom she mentioned by name (some of whom were known to me) had witnessed my courage with grief and tears, especially the wife of H. Hendrick Bielcke[E12b], who had fainted with weeping. I said, ‘The good people have seen me in prosperity; it is no wonder that they deplore the instability of fortune;’ and I wished that God might preserve every one of those from misfortune, who had taken my misfortune to heart. I consoled myself with God and a good conscience; I was conscious of nothing wrong, and I asked who she was, and whom she served? She said she was in the Queen’s private kitchen, and had the silver in her keeping (from which I concluded that she had probably to clean the silver, which was the case). She said that the Queen could get no one who would be alone with me, for that I was considered evil; it was said also that I was very wise, and knew future events. I answered, ‘If I possessed this wisdom, I scarcely think that I should have come in here, for I should then have been able to guard myself against it.’ Maren said we might know things and still not be able to guard against them.
She told me also that the Queen had herself spoken with her, and had said to her, ‘You are to be this night with Leonora; you need not be afraid, she can now do no evil. With all her witchcraft she is now in prison and has nothing with her; and if she strikes you, I give you leave to strike her back again till the blood comes.’ Maren said also, ‘The Queen knows well that my mind has been affected by acute illness, and therefore she wished that I should be with you.’ So saying she threw her arms round my neck as I was sitting, and caressed me in her manner, saying, ‘Strike me, dear heart, strike me!’ ‘I will not,’ she swore, ‘strike again.’ I was rather alarmed, fearing that the frenzy might come on. She said further that when she saw me coming over the bridge, she felt as if her heart would burst. She informed me with many words how much she loved me, and how the maid of honour, Carisius, who was standing with her in the window, had praised me, and wished to be able to do something for my deliverance, with many such words and speeches. I accepted the unusual caress, as under the circumstances I could not help it, and said that it would be contrary to all justice to offer blows to one who manifested such great affection as she had done, especially to one of her sex; adding, that I could not think how the Queen had imagined that I struck people, as I had never even given a box on the ears to a waiting-woman. I thanked her for her good opinion of me, and told her that I hoped all would go well, dark as things looked; that I would hold fast to God, who knew my innocence, and that I had done nothing unjustifiable; that I would commend my cause to Him, and I did not doubt that He would rescue me: if not immediately He would do so some day, I was well assured.