´óÏó´«Ã½

Alison Brackenbury

Introduction to my poem inspired by The Palace of Holyroodhouse, Edinburgh

Have you reflected, in these weeks, on places you haven’t visited, at home or abroad? I wish I’d spent more time in Scotland.

But I have visited Edinburgh, and the Palace of Holyroodhouse. I expected massive stairs and lofty chambers. I found twisting stone steps and low-ceilinged rooms. Here, in 1566, heavily pregnant, Mary Queen of Scots saw her secretary, David Rizzio, stabbed by her husband, Lord Darnley. After Darnley’s own mysterious death, Mary married the Earl of Bothwell, in Holyroodhouse. She was then forced to flee Scotland.

Here too, while still a teenager, Mary held a memorable meeting with the Protestant leader, John Knox. He had protested against her rule in a work called The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women. Much can be said against Mary, but I think she showed considerable courage in confronting Knox. Here is a poem which tries to catch some of the echoes in these shadowed rooms.

The Queen's apartments in the Palace of Holyroodhouse

Should Scotland’s towers rise lordly,
the young Queen’s skirts sweep wide?
Steps dip and twist so meanly
a child must duck inside.

How close they press, our life’s rooms,
like sweat, which lines fine clothing,
as intimate as locks.

Upright, with careful bearing,
no thread of red hem trailing,
the Queen waits for John Knox.

She will flee her baby, let
her twisted husband die,
her soft musician butchered,
a second thug to try.

How straight she stands in freedom,
dances lilt her veins like rage.
Bloomed candles light her eyes,
while Knox’s wife, a daughter’s age,
slowly turns her Bible page.

He climbs with heavy thighs.
He speaks for the tired poor.
Her petticoats sigh silk.
Careless, he will thump the floor
while her breasts ache with milk.

While righteous dark rules his night,
must her light-voiced pleas still lose?
How boldly she declares:
crooked steps slip from your shoes,
quick time gutters, you must choose,
John Knox stamps up the stairs.