Her Majesty the Queen was always gracious to me, and sent me again a number of silkworms that I might amuse myself with feeding them for her, and I was to return what they spun. The virtuous Queen also sent me sometimes oranges, lemons, and some of the large almanacs, and this she did through a dwarf, who is a thoroughly quick lad. His mother and father had been in the service of my deceased sister Sophia Elizabeth and my brother-in-law Count Pentz.
The governess of the royal children, F. Sitzel Grubbe, was very courteous and good to me, and sent me several times lemons, oranges, mulberries, and other fruits, according to the season of the year.
A young lady, by birth a Donep, also twice sent me fruit.
The maids of honour once sent me some entangled silk from silkworms, which they wanted to spin, and did not rightly know how to manage it; they requested me to arrange it for them. I had other occupation on hand which I was unwilling to lay aside (for I was busy collecting my heroines), but nevertheless I acceded to their wish.[E60] My captivity of nearly twenty years could not touch the heart of the Queen Dowager (though with a good conscience I can testify before God that I never gave her cause for such inclemency). My most gracious hereditary King was gracious enough several times in former years to intercede for me with his royal mother, through the high ministers of the State. Her answer at that time was very hard; she would entitle them ‘traitors,’ and, ‘as good as I was,’ and would point them to the door. All the favours which the King’s majesty showed me—the outer apartment, the large window, the money to dispose of for myself—annoyed the Queen Dowager extremely; and she made the King’s majesty feel her displeasure in the most painful manner. And as she had also learned (she had plenty of informers) that I possessed a clavicordium, this annoyed her especially, and she spoke very angrily with the King about it; on which account the prison governor came to me one day and said that the King had asked him how he had happened to procure me a clavicordium. ‘I stood abashed,’ said the prison governor, ‘and knew not what to say.’ I thought to myself, ‘You know but little of what is happening in the tower.’ I did not see him more than three times a year. I asked who had told the King of the clavicordium. He answered: ‘The old Queen; she has her spies everywhere, and she has spoken so hardly to the King that it is a shame because he gives you so much liberty;’ so saying, he seized the clavicordium just as if he were going to take it away, and said, ‘You must not have it!’ I said, ‘Let it alone! I have permission from his Majesty, my gracious Sovereign, to buy what I desire for my pastime with the money he graciously assigns me. The clavicordium is in no one’s way, and cannot harm the Queen Dowager.’ He pulled at it nevertheless, and wanted to take it down; it stood on a closet which I had bought. I said, with rather a loud voice, ‘You must let it remain until you return me the money I gave you for it; then you may do with it what you like.’ He said, ‘I will tell the King that.’ I begged him to do so. There was nothing afterwards said about it,[147] and I still have the clavicordium, though I play on it rarely. I write, and hasten to finish my heroines, so that I may have them ready, and that no sickness nor death may prevent my completing them, nor the friend to whom I confide them may leave me, and so they would never fall into your hands, my dearest children.
On September 24, M. Johan Adolf, my father confessor, was promoted; he became dean of the church of Our Lady. He bade me a very touching farewell, having administered the duties of his office to me for nearly six years, and been my consolation. God knows how unwillingly I parted with him.
At the beginning of this year H. Peder Collerus was my father confessor; he was at the time palace-preacher. He also visited me with his consolatory discourse every six weeks. He is a learned man, but not like Hornemann.
On April 3, an old sickly dog was sent to me in the Queen’s name. I fancy the ladies of the court sent it, to be quit of the trouble. A marten had bit its jaw in two, so that the tongue hung out on one side. All the teeth were gone, and a thin film covered one eye. It heard but little, and limped on one side. The worst, however, was, that one could easily see that it tried to exhibit its affection beyond its power. They told me that her Majesty the Queen had been very fond of the dog. It was a small ‘King Charles;’ its name was ‘Cavaillier.’ The Queen expressed her opinion that it would not long trouble me. I hoped so also.[E66b]
On August 12 of this year I finished the work I had undertaken, and since my prefatory remarks treated of celebrated women of every kind, both of valiant rulers and sensible sovereigns, of true, chaste, God-fearing, virtuous, unhappy, learned, and steadfast women, it seemed to me that all of these could not be reckoned as heroines; so I took some of them out and divided them into three parts, under the title, ‘The Heroines’ Praise.’ The first part is to the honour of valiant heroines. The second part speaks of true and chaste heroines. The third part of steadfast heroines. Each part has its appendix. I hope to God that this my prison work may come into your hands, my dearest children. Hereafter I intend, so God will, to collect the others: namely, the sensible, learned, god-fearing, and virtuous women; exhibiting each to view in the circumstances of her life.[E61]
I will mention from her own statement somewhat of Jonatha, who now attended on me. I will pass over the long story of how she left her mother; the fact is, that against her mother’s will she married a Danish merchant, named Jens Pedersen Holme. But her life and doings (according to her own statement) are so strange, that it may be worth while to record somewhat of them. After they were married, she says, it vexed her, and was always in her mind that she had made her mother angry, and had done very wrong. Her mother had sent her also a hard letter, which distressed her much; and she behaved refractorily towards her husband, and in many ways like a spoilt unreasonable child, sometimes even like one who had lost her reason and was desperate.
It seems also that her husband treated her as if her mind was affected, for he had her looked after like a child, and treated her as such. She told him once that she was intending to drown herself in the Peblingesö,[E62] and at another time that she would strike him dead. The husband feared neither of these threats; still he had her watched when she went out, to see which way she took. Once she had firmly resolved to drown herself in the Peblingesö, for this place pleased her; she was even on her way there, but was brought back. She struck her husband, too, once after her fashion. He had come home one day half intoxicated, and had laid down on a bed, so that his legs rested on the floor. She says she intended at the time to strike him dead; she took a stick and tried to see if he were asleep, talking loudly to herself and scolding, and touching him softly on the shinbone with the stick. He behaved as if he were asleep. Then she struck him a little harder. Upon this he seized the stick and took it away from her, and asked what she had in her mind. She answered, ‘To kill you.’ ‘He was grieved at my madness,’ she said, ‘and threw himself on his knees, praying God to govern me with His good spirit and give me reason.’ The worst is that it once came into her mind not to sleep with her husband, and she laid down on a bench in the room. For a long time he gave her fair words, but these availed nothing. At last he said, ‘Undress yourself and come and lie down, or I shall come to you.’ She paid no attention to this; so he got up, undressed her completely, slapped her with his hand, and threw her into bed. She protested that for some days she was too bruised to sit; this proved availing, and she behaved in future more reasonably.