CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
——♦——
A GATHERING STORM.
PAGE
The Anonymous letter—Incendiary Placards—The Sailors at Hirschholm—Alarm at Court—The Feast of the Bœuf Roti—The Conspiracy—Falckenskjold's Advice—Struensee's Alarms—Brandt's Levity—The Second Letter—Brandt's Resolution [1]
THE SINKING SHIP.
Brandt's Letter of Complaint—Struensee's Dignified Answer—A False Friend—The Proposed Plot—Freedom of the Press—Insulting Pamphlets—The Queen Dowager—Rumoured Intrigues—Attempted Reconciliation—Struensee's Self-Conceit—Fresh Changes at Court [27]
THE MUTINY OF THE GUARDS.
Restrictions on the Press—The Pamphleteers—The King at Home—The Fight with Brandt—The Master of the Wardrobe—Court Amusements—The Town Commandant—Public Disaffection—The Foot Guards—The Mutiny—Visit to Frederiksberg—Behaviour of the Citizens—Struensee Gives Way—Colonel Keith [54]
THE CONSPIRACY.
Struensee's Blindness—Dangerous Rumours—We are Seven—Von Beringskjold—A Conspirator—The Queen Dowager's Assent—Secret Meetings—The Masked Ball—A Fatality—Rantzau's Vacillation—The Visit to the King—The Order to Arrest Caroline Matilda [80]
SHARING THE SPOIL.
Arrest of Struensee and Brandt—Falckenskjold's Prison—A Lady's Perils—Caroline Matilda—A Terrible Scene—Osten's Persuasion—Arrival at Kronborg—The Queen's Despair—The King in Public—Popular Excesses—Rewards—General von Huth [106]
THE NEW GOVERNMENT.
The Te Deum—A Warning Voice—Hitting a Fallen Man—A good Hater—Court Festivities—The Alarm at the Theatre—Banishment of Beringskjold—Retirement of Reverdil—The Two Counts—Struensee's Despair—Attempted Suicide—The Commission—The Cabinet Council The Privy Council of State [128]
WHAT THEY SAID IN ENGLAND.
Colonel Keith—Bad News from Copenhagen—Death of the Princess of Wales—The Public Press—Junius's Letter—Atticus—A Foul Libel—The Earl of Bute Denounced—Another Appeal for the Queen—The State of Public Opinion—The approaching Trial [158]
STRUENSEE IN PRISON.
Struensee's Confession—A Hopeless Defence—Brandt's Firmness—Dr. Münter—Materialism—Death of Bernstorff—A Pious Letter—A Roman Mother—The Convert—D'Alembert—Struensee's Apology—The other Prisoners [178]
THE QUEEN'S TRIAL.
The Queen's Letters—An Extorted Confession—The High Court of Inquiry—The Indictment—Statement of Witnesses—Revolting Details—Amateur Detectives—The Maids in Waiting—Fräulein von Eyben—Sentiments—Presents—The Verdict Demanded [203]
THE QUEEN'S DEFENCE.
Caroline Matilda's Feelings—Advocate Uldall—The Defence—The Queen's Innocence—A Fair Trial Demanded—Character of the Evidence—The Law of Adultery—Value of Evidence—Struensee's Favour—Fräulein von Eyben—Trifles Light as Air—The Queen's Attendants—A Flaw in the Argument—Reverdil's Appeal—The Sentence [231]
A JEALOUS ADVOCATE.
The Indictment of Struensee—Historical Introduction—Coarse Jests—Brandt's Assault on the King—Treatment of the Prince Royal—The Minister of State—Abolition of the Council—Disbandment of the Guards—Alleged Forgery—The Queen's Bouquet—The Sentence Demanded [255]
A LUKEWARM DEFENCE.
Uldall's Speedy Reply—Breach of the Law—Weak Arguments—Personalities Appealed Against—Explanations—An Appeal to Mercy—Falckenskjold's Opinion of the Affair—Reverdil speaks his Mind—Conduct of the Favourites—The Bribe to Holck—Count Bernstorff—The Fiscal General's Reply—A Savage Opponent [297]
STRUENSEE'S APOLOGY.
The Travelling Doctor—Count Holck—The Foreign Tour—Struensee at Court—The Queen's Confidence—The Mutual Friend—The Holstein Progress—Holck Dismissed—The Ministry—The King's Advisers—Count von Rantzau—The Russian Alliance—The New Cabinet—Struensee's Advice—The Cabinet Minister—Education of the Prince Royal [328]
LIFE AND TIMES
OF
CAROLINE MATILDA.
CHAPTER I.
A GATHERING STORM.
THE ANONYMOUS LETTER—INCENDIARY PLACARDS—THE SAILORS AT HIRSCHHOLM—ALARM AT COURT—THE FEAST OF THE BŒUF ROTI—THE CONSPIRACY—FALCKENSKJOLD'S ADVICE—STRUENSEE'S ALARMS—BRANDT'S LEVITY—THE SECOND LETTER—BRANDT'S RESOLUTION.
When Brandt had got rid so cleverly of his oppressive duties in constantly attending on the king, it might have been supposed that he would have nothing to trouble his mind henceforth, but would take the goods the gods provided him in a happy frame of mind. But Brandt had one of those private skeletons which are said to be in every house, and his took the shape of an anonymous letter in French, which was sent to him early in July. Although the writer had disguised his hand, he had taken no great trouble to remain unknown, as the seal bore the initial letters of his name, and in the letter itself there were plenty of allusions to enable Brandt to guess the writer. This was Conferenz-rath Braëm, deputy of the College of the Generalty.
Sir[1],
Perhaps you may wonder to receive a letter without a name on a matter of so great importance, from a friend who formerly used to tell you the truth before your face: but the times we live in now will not justify a man in exposing himself to danger, without seeing any good arising from it.
The two last court days I sought for an opportunity at Hirschholm to speak a few words to you in private, but I found it was impossible. You might have observed that if you had been at all attentive: but I found you so much engaged with another object that I could not approach near enough to you to make you understand what I wanted, and I thought it inadvisable to go to Hirschholm on purpose to pay you a visit.
Once, sir, you showed that you had the honour of your master at heart.[2] It was then asserted that neither zeal nor attachment was the mainspring of your actions, but ambition and interest, because you hoped that if you could bring Count Holck into disgrace, you might succeed him in the favour and honour he enjoyed. However, the bulk of the people thought your intentions noble and without self-interest. Perhaps the immediate consequences of this transaction have made so great an impression on you, that you think you dare not venture on such another. And yet the final issue of the affair has shown, that even your ill-success in it has been more advantageous than detrimental to you. Therefore, sir, do not think that this was the mere effect of accident, but rather that a higher hand has guided this matter. I do not know what your notions of God may be, or whether you believe in a God at all, or in a mere stoical fate. It would be very superfluous to discuss a matter of so great importance here. The time will come, when experience will teach you that there is a God, who sees and knows everything, who either early or late rewards virtue and punishes vice.
My intention is not at present to make you a Christian. It is only to remind you of your duty—that duty by which even an honest heathen thought himself bound toward his king, his country, himself, and his family. The heathen even demanded this of every subject and of every man who laid any claim to honour.
You see, sir, in what manner your king and benefactor is used. You see the indecent things that are done before his eyes, and in which you, yourself, are so much concerned. You see that in the whole kingdom everything is turned upside down. Consider, sir, and recover your senses, and you will not be at a loss how to act. If it be true (and it is but too true) that the life of the king is in danger, or at least that preparations are being made to take away his liberty, you certainly must know it. The sense of the nation on this head cannot be unknown to you, and that one time or another you will have to account for the life and liberty of your sovereign. You, sir, since you are constantly with him, and since you see and know everybody, be assured that your head will be answerable for it either sooner or later. Think of your own safety, I conjure you by the friendship I entertain for you. It is in your power to do it. You see plainly from the king's desire to avoid the place and company in which he is ill-used, and from his aversion to return to it, that he is sensible of the ill-treatment. Some day the king will deliver himself from you, or good fortune will rid him of you, and what will then be your fate? Would it not be best for you to save your head and do your duty at the same time? To build your happiness on a solid and noble foundation, which you will then owe to your zeal, your faithfulness and attachment to your king, who will reward you with riches and honour; and the nation will not think even this an equivalent for your services. You and your present welfare depend on the caprice of a wretch who will abandon you as soon as he is above your assistance. At present he makes the same use of you as the monkey did of the cat, and I fancy you have found this out more than once, if you will not impose on yourself.
If the king should come to town, I advise you to act in the following manner: Prevail on him to go to the palace, and persuade him to call for one or two of his faithful servants, in order to consult on the best way of proceeding. It is unfortunate enough that the number of these faithful servants is so small, and reduced, perhaps, to one or two persons; for the best and cleverest men have been carefully removed. You will easily guess who these persons are, without my naming them. Perseverance, honesty, and experience, are characteristics by which you can know them. I could name them, but would avoid the least suspicion of self-interest. However, I must tell you that it must be neither Rantzau nor Gähler, for both are detested by the nation in an equal degree. You will forfeit your head if you do not follow this advice, which I give you as a friend, and a faithful servant of the king. If you do not heed it, but neglect your duty toward your king and benefactor, you may be sure it will cost you your life, your honour, and everything that is dearest to an honest man; and, moreover, no one will pity you. If, on the other hand, you do what your duty requires, and save your king from those wicked hands into which he has fallen, you may be sure that there is no honour or prosperity to which you will not be entitled, and this with the consent of the king, and all his faithful subjects.
Perhaps you will think proper to show this letter to your friend Struensee, in order to give him a proof of your fidelity at the expense of those obligations which you have sworn to your king, and to induce him to grant new favours to the husband of Countess von Holstein; and perhaps he might do so, in order to deceive you, and keep you in his interest. But I assure you that when they have deposed the king, you will be wretched, and perhaps the guilt will fall on you.
I repeat again, that your head shall answer for the safety of the king. You are continually about him. You accompany him; you are entrusted with his person; and lest you may plead ignorance, I assure you on my honour, that in such a case a copy of this letter shall be produced against you, at the proper time and place. And for fear you should mistake in this respect, I desire you to notice the seal of this letter, which contains the initial letters of my name, and which will also be produced against you.
The life and health of the king, together with the welfare of the kingdom, are in your hands: act in such a manner as you can answer for before your fellow-citizens. I do not say before God, for I do not know what your idea of God may be; though I have reason to think, from what you told me once in your apartments at Christiansborg, and afterwards at Hirschholm, that your notions are not altogether what they should be.
You see I am not afraid of your guessing who I am, and I assure you, that if you act in the way I expect from your birth, you will find me to be your faithful and devoted servant.
July 8, 1771.
It had always been hitherto assumed as an historical fact that the Copenhagen Palace Revolution was concocted only a few days before the catastrophe of January 17, 1771, by the Queen Juliana Maria; but it is sufficiently evident, from the above anonymous letter, that six months previously a plot existed among men of position, to overthrow Struensee at any cost, and they seem even to have uttered the blood sentence, which condemned their victim to death and ruin. The threatening letter does not appear to have produced the intended effect on Brandt; but he became very serious, concealed the contents of the letter even from Struensee, and carefully kept it in his pocket-book. As he gradually became more and more melancholy, he lost the king's favour to the same extent.
With what boldness the conspirators dared to act, even at this period, is evidenced by the numerous threatening and abusive documents which were sent to the cabinet minister's house, placarded on the walls of the palace and the theatre, and even thrown into the Hirschholm garden. As a specimen of the tone and contents of them, we may here reproduce a placard, supposed to have been composed by Brandt's father-in-law, Conferenz-rath Lüxdorph, which was found one morning posted up in the principal street of the capital.[3] The literal translation is to the following effect:—
"As the traitor Struensee continues to ill-treat the beloved king, to mock his faithful subjects, and to daily seize, with force and injustice, more and more of the royal authority which the subjects have entrusted to the king, the before-mentioned Struensee and his adherents are hereby declared free as birds (outlawed), and the man who puffs out this treacherous soul, shall receive as reward 5,000 dollars, his name be kept secret, and in any case a royal pardon be granted him."
The dissatisfaction of the people of Copenhagen, which was partially justified, being fanned in this way, began, ere long, to display itself actively.
The bomb-ketches intended to be sent against Algiers were not yet finished, and the sailors brought from Norway to man them roamed about the capital in idleness; moreover, the government neglected to pay them. The political creed of the Norwegians at that time was composed of two dogmas:—first, that the king is never unjust; secondly, that the king must be blindly obeyed, provided that the order emanate from him. The corollary was, that acts of injustice were committed by the king's subordinates, and that by application to their master redress was certain.[4]
As early as June 10 many ship-carpenters had struck work, after in vain asking double wages for working on Sunday, which was considered necessary to get the fleet off. Two days after this event, a squadron of dragoons was posted in front of Hirschholm Palace; but, as no further excesses occurred, this picket was removed toward the end of July. On September 10, however, a band of from two hundred to three hundred sailors set out for Hirschholm; they had been waiting eight weeks for their pay, were almost starving, and had sent in repeated petitions, to which no answer was returned. As they now saw that no relief was to be obtained in this way, they formed the bold resolution of laying their request before the king personally.
When they arrived in the vicinity of the palace, a naval officer went to ask them what they wanted? "We wish to speak to our father," was the reply; "he shall hear us, and help us." The aide-de-camp hastened with this message back to the palace, but the whole court had already fled by a back-door to the estate of Sophienberg, about two miles distant. Here the question was discussed between the queen, Struensee, Brandt, Falckenskjold, and Bülow, whether the flight should be continued to Elsinore. At this moment the sailors arrived here, and demanded speech with the king. They were answered that the king was out hunting, but the intruders did not believe it, and were preparing to force their way into the palace, when Colonel Numsen came up with a troop of dragoons and tried to drive them back. The sailors laid their hands on their knives, and declared they would defend themselves if the soldiers attacked them. Fortunately, some firmer and wiser gentlemen represented that the men did not look like insurrectionists, and that by signifying to them from the king through a naval aide-de-camp that they must return and justice would be dealt them, an odious and sanguinary scene, perhaps a real sedition, would be avoided. On the pledge of the aide-de-camp the sailors went back to Copenhagen as peacefully as they had come, and the court returned to the summer residence. Still, the alarm the sailors had caused lasted all night, because everybody felt persuaded that they would return furious and better armed.
The queen ordered that her horses should be kept in readiness; she went to bed bare-headed and in disorder, had her riding-habit laid in readiness by her side, and a moment after rose hurriedly to have her jewellery packed up. She also requested a colonel, in whom she placed confidence, to sleep at the palace. The dragoons, however, who patrolled all night, discovered nothing, and so the court became calm, and did their best to hide the fright they had suffered.
Struensee gave way; the sailors on their arrival in Copenhagen were treated with spirits, and temporarily appeased by a payment on account, while the whole arrears were paid up a few days later. The chief of the naval division, however, to which they belonged, Herr von Rumohr, was dismissed the service, on the charge of not having attempted to quell the tumult.
The bad example which the Norwegian sailors had given, and the fact that they were not punished for it, soon induced other men to bring forward less just claims in a similar way. A fortnight later, some one hundred and twenty silk weavers proceeded from Copenhagen to Hirschholm to complain that they were starving, because the royal silk factories had been closed. This request was also taken into consideration by the alarmed court, and an order was issued to continue the work in the factories till the men obtained other employment. As these demonstrations, however, raised apprehension of others, from this time guards were posted round the palace, the manège, and the palace gardens, by Falckenskjold's advice, which naturally led to many bitter comments.
But the greatest fear was entertained at court about the dockyard-men, who were known to be still angry at their exclusion from the king's birthday rejoicings, and the loss of their perquisites. In addition to the sailors obtained expressly from Norway, there were generally five thousand more in Copenhagen, divided into five detachments, of ten companies each; some were intended to man the ships, while others were employed as carpenters, caulkers, and labourers of every description in the navy dockyards. These men were also dissatisfied with the new regulations introduced in the yards, as in every other department, and it was consequently resolved to give them a "festival of reconciliation," for which September 29 was selected. When the day arrived, all the dockyard-men went in procession, with their wives and children, to the riding-school of Frederiksberg Palace, where they were to be regaled in the open air. Of course a roast ox again formed the staple dish; but as it was not sufficient to fill all the empty stomachs, six sheep, twelve pigs, and an infinity of geese, ducks, and fowls, were also roasted and distributed. To wash this food down, upwards of thirty tuns of beer, and a quart of rum per man, were distributed. Any one who liked to smoke received a charged pipe, and all were paid their wages as for an ordinary working-day. Dancing and music concluded the festival.
Struensee, in his abject terror, had not duly reflected how uncertain is the permanent effect of popular demonstrations, or to what remarks they give rise. But the mistake led to even more ugly consequences. It had not only been announced that the court would be present at the festival, but the diplomatic corps, and all the dignitaries of the state, had been invited as well. Fifty men of the flying corps of guards were to form the king's escort, and had been told off, when a rumour reached the court that a design on the favourite's life would be carried out at the feast of the roast ox. In the terrible confusion which this rumour caused at Hirschholm, the advice of the experienced Falckenskjold was demanded. Struensee was afraid of being murdered, and said in Brandt's presence to Falckenskjold, that the fate of Concini might be hanging over him. The colonel advised him to mix among the populace at the festival, and display an undaunted demeanour, but took advantage of the opportunity to urge him to be more cautious, and not to arouse his enemies further. He told him that the dissatisfaction with his government was now extending to his friends, and reminded him of the fate of Counts Corfix Ulfeld and Griffenfeldt, whom the court had been compelled to sacrifice to their enemies.
"Such is the fate," Struensee's best friend concluded his far-sighted warnings, "by which you are also threatened, and, if they can, they will drag you to the scaffold. So, at any rate, take care that your papers are in order."
"My papers are arranged," Struensee coldly answered him; "from that side I have nothing to fear, if they will only behave fairly in other respects."
Brandt joined in Falckenskjold's warnings, and urged Struensee not to be so obstinate, but to give way, and yield to circumstances.
"No!" Struensee answered him, with considerable violence; "no! I will give up nothing of what, according to my conviction, promotes the welfare of the state."
"The time will come," Brandt said, prophetically, "when we shall be compelled to give way."
Struensee retired silently to his cabinet. But, a few minutes after, Falckenskjold received a note from him, in which he asked whether he could be present at the festival without risk. Falckenskjold answered him, that he was able to stay away if he felt afraid.[5]
Neither Struensee nor their Majesties appeared at the festival of the roast ox: the preparations for their reception proved a farce. The proceedings passed off tranquilly, with the exception that some of the sailors remarked that it was not the ox that had been promised them—in allusion to Struensee's corpulence. The citizens were very much annoyed at not having been shown their king, whom they were growing accustomed to talk about as an automaton. They were even more indignant when they learned that fear had retained their Majesties at Hirschholm, and this distrust with which the king was inspired against his subjects was a fresh crime with which the favourites were accused. But though it is certain that the king had nothing to fear, it is equally certain that he had not been inspired either with fear or distrust; in the whole affair he was passive and indifferent.[6]
There can be little doubt but that Struensee was quite right in staying away from the festival of September 29, for there was a regular conspiracy; it was formed under the auspices of Juliana Maria, and managed by the head man of the caulkers, Captain Winterfeldt, who was eventually rewarded for his good will. In 1774, Baron von Bülow gave Mr. Wraxall a detailed account of the plot to murder Struensee and his partisans on this occasion.
The favourites were not at all reassured by the tranquillity of the people and the sailors, for a dull fermentation was going on, of which they could not be ignorant. Projects for leaving the country, and the results which might ensue from obstinately despising the danger, frequently occupied them. The cabinet minister even one day mentioned his disgust to Reverdil, who was in no respect his confidant, and the latter expressed his surprise that he put up with it. Struensee replied that he had often thought of retiring, and was only prevented by his devotion to the queen, who had ever been before his time a victim of the intrigues and malice of the favourites, and would be so after him. On another occasion, when he assured Reverdil that the king was the sole author of the reforms he had accomplished, he added, "I will not say otherwise under torture." Brandt, who frequently complained of his lot, said, with respect to some reproaches he received from the queen, "that alone is a hell." Brandt, who pretended to be seriously affected by an anonymous letter, confirmed his friend, however, in his resolution of remaining. "To what place could you go," he said to him, "where you would be prime minister and favourite of the king and queen?"
On other occasions, Brandt's incredible levity inspired him with jests as to the fate they had to fear. One day, after making some rather malicious remarks about the marshal of the court, he added: "After all, though, Biälke is the wisest of us, for he is taking advantage of the present time to settle down; he is making a wealthy marriage, and when we are in prison, I flatter myself that he will have pity on us, and send us every now and then some good soup." At another dinner, Brandt began talking about the proposition of September 29 of all flying together, and asked each of the guests what profession he would choose to gain a livelihood. The queen said that she would turn singer; and, indeed, she had a very agreeable voice. Struensee said that he would take a distant farm, and live on it as a philosopher. Brandt proposed to carry on, on his own account, his trade as manager of a theatre; "and you, my fair lady," he added to one of the guests, "cannot fail to succeed; with your form, you need only offer yourself as a model at an academy." The lady was certainly very beautiful, but hid with a great deal of art a defect in her shape, which she thought no one knew.[7]
Still, these anxieties which Brandt treated so gaily in company, affected him, nevertheless, in secret. "I wish all this would come to an end," he said one day to Falckenskjold, "for I have a foreboding that this government will speedily be overthrown."
"You will fare badly if it is," Falckenskjold answered.
"Oh!" said Brandt, with a flash of his old levity, "as far as that is concerned, I have studied law, and shall be able to answer for myself."[8]
About this time, Brandt received another anonymous letter in the same handwriting as the first:—
Well, sir, what I foretold you has happened, and you feel already the effects of your bad conduct. You have been faithless to your king, and you are now treated by others in the same manner. They use you as the monkey did the cat. You are deceived, and since they find they can do with you whatever they please, they laugh at you now, and it will not last long before they send you with contempt about your business, and lest you should tell tales, they may very likely imprison you for life, or send you by some means or the other into another world. This will be the due reward of your treachery, cowardice, and mean actions. I prognosticated all these things to you in my last letter of July 8: since that time my friendship for you, of which I have given you undeniable proof, has grown very cool. You do not deserve that it should continue, since you have been unable to follow good advice, and to do what your honour and your duty require of you. You have, on the contrary, chosen to persevere in your wicked course of life. If you at that time had followed my advice, you would have set the king at liberty, by saving him, and your praise would have been immortal. You would then have satisfied the duties of a good subject, a faithful servant, and an honest man: you would have gained the applause not only of your countrymen, but even of all Europe: they would all have united to procure you rewards according to your merit, and proportionate to the services done to the king and to your country. And certainly nobody would have been more deserving of rewards. But now you are detested through the whole kingdom, and are everywhere laughed at. Much was expected from your loyalty, your love for the king, and from a sense of your own duty; but people were mistaken. You are now punished. You are infamous among the whole nation, and your name is mentioned with horror. At court you are laughed at and entertained with vain hopes; an imaginary greatness is shown you. You are treated with the empty title of Count, which will remain a monument of your want of faith, your weakness, your meanness, and your reproachful conduct. In the meantime, Struensee insults the king and the whole of the royal family, not because they have offended him, but only to show his unlimited power. He arrogates all honours to himself; he makes himself master of the kingdom, the concerns of the government, and of the king, whom he dishonours before the whole world; he disposes of the revenues of the kingdom in a despotic manner, and against all order. This wretch dares to place himself on a level with his master by drawing up an order, by which the signature of his name acquires the same authority that, by the constitution of the kingdom, only belongs to the signature of the king. Your meanness and unwarrantable conduct have assisted to raise him so high; you could have prevented this, and, therefore, you will be answerable for the consequences. He commits crimes and assassinations, and he does it to retain the reins of government; but you contribute your share by obeying the orders of this Cromwell, who is ready to sacrifice the life of the king a thousand times over, if possible, so that he may obtain his wicked ends, and provide for his own security. Instead of acquainting the king with things which nobody knows better than you (for you are cunning enough when it concerns your own interest), you assist this Diedrich Slagheck[9] in arrogating to himself royal authority; in keeping his master under guardianship; in degrading him in the eyes of his subjects, that their love may cease, or at least decrease; and, lastly, as every one says, "in using him personally ill in the bargain."
You who can prevent all this and save the king from the hands of this good-for-nothing wretch, and yet are not willing to do it—you, sir, are accountable for it, and deserve greater punishment than the traitor himself; and believe me, as sure as that there is a God, you sooner or later shall pay for it with your head.
You see how preposterously business is managed; everything is overthrown and jumbled together in the strangest manner and blended with the highest inconsiderateness, of which there is no parallel instance to be met with in history. The most honest people who have served the kingdom such a long while, and so faithfully that even envy itself could not blame them, are removed to a great distance; they are turned away in the most shameful manner if they will not fall in with the measures of this doctor of physic. As if he were afraid of their honesty, their places are filled up with wretches who know nothing of the constitution of the kingdom and the situation of affairs; who know nothing of the business annexed to their offices; in short, people of whom nobody so much as dreamed that they were acquainted even with the first principles of the art of government.
For God's sake! what is the meaning that an Oeder and a Struensee, professor of mathematics at Liegnitz, are placed at the head of the board of finances? These men enjoy an annual salary of 3,000 rix dollars, while others who have served forty and fifty years without blame, are now starving, because they could not betray the king and their country, and would not be employed in promoting bad and destructive ends. Yet these ignorant men dare to take on their shoulders a burden under which, particularly in these unhappy times, a man of courage, ability, and experience, would have trembled. However, the wise man knows the danger, and therefore will not hazard the welfare of the nation and his good character, but the ignorant man, who has nothing to lose, does not perceive the unhappy consequences of his inability and ignorance.
You see, sir, that the nation is acquainted with the wretchedness of this present administration, that it feels the bad consequences of it, which will drive it at last to extremities. You may be the more assured of the truth of this, as discontent discovers itself in a public and alarming manner. You know all this, but you conceal it from the king, though you are the only man that converses with his Majesty, while access to the throne is denied to all the rest of his subjects. You, alone, can inform the king of the dangerous situation himself and his kingdom are in, and the inconceivable indifference wherewith the best and worthiest of his Majesty's subjects are treated. I hear that a certain kingdom (Norway) may soon become alienated: so that in a short time everything may be hopelessly lost, if the king continues to listen to such bad advice.
You see, sir, how the department of foreign affairs is managed, and how, by the intrigues and incapacity of our great prime minister, who has the audacity to interfere, everything is confused, so that the name of the Danes is now a subject for ridicule.
You see, sir, and you know how arbitrarily his excellency, our great prime minister, Count Struensee, disposes of the finances,—the pure blood of the poor subjects.
You, sir, are a Dane of noble extraction, beloved by our king, to whom you and your family owe so many favours, and yet you keep silence! Do you not blush? and are you not convinced in your conscience that you ought to fall the first sacrifice of such conduct, since you might have prevented it, or had, at least, a thousand opportunities to set matters to rights again? If tumult and rebellion (which God forbid) should be the consequences, whom do you think the exasperated populace would attack first? Would they not secure you first, as you are at least as culpable as Struensee? And do not you expose your life, sooner or later, to the greatest danger by this conduct, which is not consistent with the character of an honest man?
Reflect, sir, and return to your duty: I conjure you by the ashes of your father, whom you never knew; by the tears of your virtuous mother, who weeps, perhaps, already on account of your approaching untimely death; and what is still more, I conjure you, by the tears which may some day be shed on your account by the king, the royal family, and your afflicted country.
You are not afraid to disagree with the doctor prime minister when it concerns your private interest: but you are mean enough to be reconciled by a present of 10,000 rix dollars, of which he had robbed the king and the nation to give them to you. Are you not ashamed of such a meanness? and are you not afraid of this man in matters that concern the welfare of your king and your country? These traitors and villains who defend a bad cause, would not have the courage to oppose you, through fear of endangering their heads, which already sit loosely on their shoulders. You would save your king and your country: you would deserve rewards, and would have a right to claim them: they would follow you, of course, since nobody would refuse them: I, myself, who write this letter, would be the first to contribute toward loading you with riches. With what tranquillity and inward satisfaction would you enjoy your fortune, your prerogatives, and your honour, if you should gain this by the consent, and even agreeably to the wishes of your king, your country, and your fellow-citizens. I desire you, sir, to consider this well, though I entertain a better opinion of your generosity, than to suppose that you can be instigated to perform noble actions only by mercenary motives.
In my opinion, you must begin this most important business in the following manner: You are frequently alone with the king: you take a walk in the evening with his Majesty, as I was informed last Wednesday, at Hirschholm: you have found that the king is weary of the guardianship he is kept under. Make use, sir, of such a favourable moment, or occasion it yourself, since you have sufficient understanding for it. Represent to him the unhappy situation he is in, and how inconsistent it is with those obligations under which his royal dignity lays him. Tell him that he, by signing the order of July 15, has divided the throne and his royal authority between himself and Struensee: that he himself, the royal family, the kingdom, all his subjects, his revenues, the life and the property of every one, are left to the arbitrary disposal of this arch-grand vizier, who is a man without experience, honour, religion, or fidelity: who does not regard laws, who is a master over all, even over the life of the king. You know that great crimes are ofttimes productive of still greater ones, or that we may at last fear that it might happen. When you have explained this to the king, then represent to him the despair his subjects are in, and to what they might be driven by such a destructive administration, and by such misery. Show him what danger threatens him and his kingdom, if this wretch has time enough to turn everything upside down. If you should have put the heart of the king in emotion, and have convinced him how absolutely necessary it was to think of the preservation of his royal person, his family, and his kingdom, then propose to him to go directly to Copenhagen, where he will be quite safe: to go to the palace, and send for two or three noblemen who can give good advice, according as the circumstances require: that he might not take false steps (which could be of consequence) at the time when the nation should attempt to revenge itself, and to show its hatred against the authors of its misfortunes and its miseries. I could name these persons, but the nation will do it for me; they ought to be persons acquainted with government, that they may advise according as the present situation of affairs requires: but it must not be Rantzau, or Gähler, or Von der Osten, for these three the nation equally detests, and they, therefore, would frustrate the whole design.
For God's, your king's, your country's, your family's, your own sake—consider all this well; and do not delay any longer to hasten to the assistance of your unhappy country. Save the nation, the king, and your own head.
The contents of this hypocritical letter are in so far of importance, because they comprise all the charges raised by Struensee's opponents among the higher officials. The writer of the two threatening letters was not publicly considered a man of bright intellect, as indeed his Jeremiads sufficiently prove; but still he was supposed to be thoroughly honest. Although he proved himself the contrary, as the result will show, still Brandt appears to have paid some attention to his repeated efforts to save his Danish countryman. The letters, the alarm at the late tumult, and his own melancholy forebodings, at last made Brandt form a desperate resolution. He determined openly to impart his feelings and wishes to Struensee, and hence addressed the following appeal to his noble colleague.[10]
CHAPTER II.
THE SINKING SHIP.
BRANDT'S LETTER OF COMPLAINT—STRUENSEE'S DIGNIFIED ANSWER—A FALSE FRIEND—THE PROPOSED PLOT—FREEDOM OF THE PRESS—INSULTING PAMPHLETS—THE QUEEN DOWAGER—RUMOURED INTRIGUES—ATTEMPTED RECONCILIATION—STRUENSEE'S SELF-CONCEIT—FRESH CHANGES AT COURT.
Brandt to Struensee.
Reproaches often convert love into mere friendship, and equality often friendship into coldness. But this shall be no obstacle to my considering myself bound to pour out my heart before you, as an old friend from whom I am seeking counsel. For the last five or six weeks I have incessantly felt unhappy. With the same strength as I was tortured by melancholy considerations, I tried to appease myself again, but did not succeed. Every night I walk weeping up and down my room till four in the morning. With your remarkably healthy common sense, you, whom I do not know whether I dare call a friend, may condemn me; but you must feel yourself exactly in my position, which you will probably have a difficulty in doing. It must be most oppressive to a man possessed of delicate feelings, through his earlier associations, to be the daily companion of a king, who, far from loving this man (myself), regards me as a burden, and does everything in his power to liberate himself from me. But you force the king to live with me, and in order to complete my misery, compel me to treat the king harshly, according to his own confession. If this is in itself a hell, it is far from being all. I have at the same time been exposed to the laughter and ridicule of the whole nation. In the provinces I am compared with Moranti,[11] and justly so. I have not the slightest influence, and no more power than the first street boy, chosen hap-hazard. My position could at least have an appearance of reputation, and thus flatter vanity, but it has become ridiculous, contemptible, and almost dishonouring, through the rivalry of the negro boy. I am obliged to tell you disagreeable things, but they are true. I alone speak frankly to you. You have inspired everybody with terror: all tremble before you. No despot has ever arrogated such power as yourself, or exercised it in such a way. The king's pages and domestics tremble at the slightest occurrence; all are seized with terror; they talk, they eat, they drink, but tremble as they do so. Fear has seized upon all who surround the minister, even on the queen, who no longer has a will of her own, not even in the choice of her dresses, and their colour. Could you but see yourself in this position, my God, how startled you would be at yourself! Neither in my head nor in my heart has a wish been aroused to conduct the affairs of state, but it suited me to regulate the court and society. For this I am better adapted than you, and would have managed the business more properly: for, only to mention the liveries, they are not liveries, but uniforms. This would have spared you much hatred, and relieved the queen of considerable embarrassment, as she would have arranged the court parties more easily with me than with you. That would have given me a real existence, and saved me from becoming an object of mockery. But with all this it is now too late; for this evil, like so many others, is incurable. If you were now to entrust me with the management, it would only be apparent, and cause me a thousand annoyances. Only one as a specimen. I had a couple of suits of clothes made for the king, and they have been terribly criticised. You find the expense of two suits in three months a little too much, although the king, as a rule, changes his dress thrice a day. Had I not been so firm, which is certainly a difficult matter when opposed to you, I must have engaged, instead of real actors, a lot of impostors, Crispins and Harlequins; and instead of good comedies, we should only have had farces, of which people would have grown tired at the end of three months, after we had made ourselves ridiculous in the eyes of foreigners. Martini and Paschini, whom you tried in the queen's name to induce me to engage, would have been of this description. The orchestra would have been reduced one-half, and have only consisted of pot-house fiddlers from the regiments, who would have cracked the ears of everybody. It would have been the same case as at the balls, which, owing to the eternal repetition of the same dances, which, as you said, were performed by the queen's desire, became in a short time unendurably insipid, as I prophesied. I only mention this to show you what a part I play, and what I could have played, and to request you, if possible, to place me in a position suitable for a man of sense, information, feeling, and decent and proper pride. Even Warnstedt's situation was not so unworthy as mine; and I have cause to apprehend the contempt of all persons, which in my present position would fall on me not unjustly.
Three months ago I wrote you a letter almost to a similar effect, but since then love has made me blind; with love in his heart a man closes his eyes to the truth; he becomes blind, and falls asleep in this blindness. When reason afterwards comes to his help, when love has become friendship, then he sees things in their true light. Now, I ask myself, what would have afforded me any consolation in this unhappy position? and have only the answer—Struensee's friendship and kind conduct towards me. The former no longer exists, for you treat me with rusticity and arrogance. No mortal man has ever before dared to behave to me in such a way. At the play table, in company and everywhere, you decide everything yourself, and are only satisfied when you have humiliated other men. You really should not have behaved thus to a friend who has ever loved you so dearly, and even at a time when all his companions and daily associates reproached him for his intercourse with you; and though it might injure him, always praised you, confessed his friendship for you to everybody, and formerly employed all his skill in persuading Holck and quieting Bernstorff. Ah, my friend, how dangerous life at court is to the character! Would to Heaven you had never made acquaintance with it! I cannot possibly comprehend why your fine feelings have not been aroused against the unworthy and disgraceful game of loo. If you were to be so unfortunate as to win a large sum from a friend or a man unable to afford it, you would not be satisfied till you had introduced a loo, a campion, or a trente-et-un, of a less dangerous character. For me it is a terrible reflection how much I have lost at these games in two months. There have been months in which I lost 1,800 dollars, and I am now obliged to sell some of my shares. And then, to be obliged to submit to reproaches for at times losing less than formerly! Could not a man blow out his brains for vexation at it?
If you desired to make a concession to a feeling and cruelly-wounded mind, I have lately thought out a plan whose fulfilment would render me perfectly happy. It would be the greatest pleasure to me to be able to go to Paris, and live there decently. In order to realise this wish, I require a yearly revenue of 20,000 species.[12] The whole city daily expects to hear that the king has given you estates, and people mention Wallö and Wemmetofte, while others are said to be intended for me. It is considered strange that we counts have no landed property, and if the king gives you Wallö and Wemmetofte, which produce 21,000 species annually, and me the county of Rantzau, which produces 15,000, no one will be surprised at it, and I shall thus be enabled to make an annual trip to Paris, and reside for some months on my estates.
Still this plan, however flattering it may sound for me, and even if you concede its fulfilment, cannot tranquillise me, for my imagination alone has sought a vain refuge in it. Fortunately there are three men here who are all gifted with sound sense, and honest and united, for whom I will answer with my head—Reverdil, Falckenskjold, and Düval. It will, therefore, solely depend on you, whether I shall entirely retire from court, and shortly undertake the post of a theatrical director, which, if it is to be properly conducted, will require my constant presence. We shall then love each other more, and you will find in me a man who, sooner than allow himself by madness and desperation to be drawn into a cabal against you, even if it promised a successful result, would not hesitate to free himself from his misery by poison or steel.
Hence I beg you to release me, to continue to be my friend, to reflect on the contents of this letter for a week or a fortnight, and then return it to me with your answer. For it is written solely for you, and I declare that I would despair if it accidentally fell into other hands.
Brandt.
Strange that Struensee, a man of sense and experience, could continue to trust in Brandt after the perusal of such a letter addressed to him. Not only does the letter contain a series of insulting remarks, and the direct assertion that intercourse with Struensee had been dishonourable to the writer, but it also bore the stamp of incipient insanity, and a temper that might easily become dangerous. But Struensee's self-confidence was so great that he did not apprehend desertion or attack from this quarter. Besides, he was sincerely attached to Brandt, and did not forget the services the latter had rendered him. His reply to Brandt's petulant letter may almost be called a state paper, though of the doctrinaire school:—
Struensee to Brandt.
Persons are always unhappy who possess an imagination rich enough to invent everything that makes us unhappy and yet wish to render us happy. When a man is gifted with such a temperament, and combines with it a natural levity which produces a liking for change, he will never arrive at a quiet enjoyment of the moment, but constantly find reasons to wish himself in a different position. But a man must sacrifice himself when he wishes to perform meritorious actions. For no one will give us credit for actions which cost us no trouble, or which we undertake for our own pleasure. The satisfaction which it will cause the queen if you succeed in your task, and the unmistakable proofs of it which you have already received, will be your reward. All that you say in addition would cause me no suspicion, if I were only convinced that it merely emanated from your zealousness; but I am morally convinced that it flows from an entirely different source. Since your amour (with Frau von Holstein), you have altered your principles, mode of thought, and views. From that moment, you have deserted and neglected me, and only granted me a few spare minutes. I have never reproached you for this, although it was done to please a person who has a mean opinion of me, and often treats me improperly. I have had the greatest respect for your inclination, and done all in my power to please you, although it has cost me trouble to overcome the anger with which Frau von Holstein inspires me. She is to me the most disagreeable of her sex, and has become even more so since I have been obliged to share your friendship with her. I request you to compare this confession with my conduct, and then to judge whether I have made a sacrifice for your sake. You must also take into account the queen's aversion for this lady, which I had even to overcome at the moment when I reproved her while dancing,—all of which, up to the present day, has been occasioned by her. This misunderstanding has often embittered my happiness; but I have never spoken to you about it. Whether this may be called a mistake or a reserve, the effect remains the same. You can yourself decide how great my confidence in you must be, as neither my feelings nor my conduct toward you have undergone any change, although I saw you allied with a person whom I dislike; whose society is disagreeable to me; and whom I mistrust.
I request you to reproach me and to oppose my intentions, in case you see that matters are going badly, or that I render the king unhappy. But if they succeed, I do not permit you to examine the means I have employed. You object, that I cause everybody terror; you should, on the contrary, praise me for it, because it is the sole correct means of curing an enervated state, with an intriguing court and people, and a king who has the same liking for change as his nation. You ought to pity me, because it is necessary for me to make myself feared, as I can only find affection through the fulfilment of my duty. I challenge you to mention anybody whom I have rendered unhappy. A yielding minister, who does not know how to act, is only a charlatan, a harlequin; for if he is also compliant in his acts, the state will always have to pay the price for securing adherents in that way. Denmark furnishes the most melancholy instances of this.
The persons who have spoken to you about the suffering of the pages and lackeys are assuredly intriguing, mean men, of no character, who only aim to make everything sink once more into the old chaos. If a man has to reform an intriguing court, and bring it to order, he cannot treat it with the mildness with which the late Söhlenthal[13] managed his household. You, yourself, were a witness of the disorder that crept into the king's apartments during my illness.[14] Good-heartedness and concession have ever been the true cause of Denmark's decay. I have saved the king from slavery, and done everything to render him happy. As regards my conduct toward his Majesty, I allow you no opinion about it, least of all when you express it in such a tone as your letter displays. You desire to arrange the king and queen's company? but I cannot hand over to you this decisive way of acquiring influence. I could mention other reasons why the court parties and balls have become insipid and tedious,—the arrogant and imperious conduct of Frau von Holstein; the readiness to oblige which you imputed to the other ladies through assisting in concerts, &c.; your attempt to introduce tragedies, and thus overcome the king's tastes; the composition of the dances contrary to the queen's inclination, and the dislike for the tour which she is fond of, and a thousand other trifles, which I could mention to you, if I were equally inclined with you to listen to complaints which persons wished to bring against you. But I have constantly refused to listen to such complaints, and have striven to convince people of the injustice of their accusations, without saying a word against you. If I liked to repeat everything of this sort which has been said to me, you would be astonished to find that as many complaints have been made against you as your so-called friends have brought against me. I regard both the one and the other as a thing that deserves no attention, and hence does not cause me the slightest anxiety; and I had expected the same from you.
As, besides, all these disputes have no ulterior effect on the king and the state, and solely affect my person and yours, we should strive to remove them, for they do not merit that on their account men should select a different road, when they, in a consciousness of higher and nobler motives, occupy a place like yours and mine. Personalities must not be taken into consideration, or, at the most, be regarded as a matter of secondary importance. A man can change his situation when he does not feel happy in it but he ought to go to work sensibly, and be tranquil under all circumstances, just in the same way as it is not permitted to change the cards because they are not good, or a man does not give up the game at once because he has been unfortunate for a time. A practised player does what he can, and waits patiently for a change in his luck.
I feel all possible gratitude for what you have done to place me in the position I now occupy. I regard you as the first man who helped me to it, although in politics it is not usual to reckon what any man has done to produce our good fortune by distant steps, but only what that person has done for us who also possessed the means to do it, while we value the former for his good intentions, which is a matter of friendship. After I had acquired the confidence and favour of the king and the queen, and gained respect with the public, through my own strength, and all the difficulties and dangers which are connected with such an enterprise, I summoned you, and shared with you the results and pleasantness of my position, so that you at once found yourself in the same fortunate situation as myself. But you are not willing to thank me for this, but insist, on the contrary, that I should owe everything to you, make way for you, and share with you the honour which I have acquired neither accidentally nor through favour, but solely through my own exertions. You insist on my taking the second place, so that you alone may be in possession of the favour, confidence, and respect, and I execute your orders. But let me tell you, once for all, that a division is impossible through the character of the king and queen. You must, therefore, either take the whole authority, or be satisfied with the confidence of being informed by me of everything that takes place. I ask you to reflect, only for a moment, what use I make of my dignity, and whether I apply it to my personal profit? I have no court, no party, no personal distinction. You enjoy the same privileges at court as myself. And are my friends, if I have any, the most distinguished? Can you not be satisfied with being at a court where there is somebody who stands above you in respect and power? and if you can be so, are you not glad that this man, whose conduct is irreproachable, has invited you to join him, and procured you the place you occupy?
You request that the management of the court and all that appertains to it should be entrusted to you. What else is this than that you wish to deprive me of the sole means by which I can compel subordinates to pay me external respect, as in the opposite case, they would openly express their dissatisfaction with me, owing to my proper opposition to them? But, leaving this point out of consideration, business would be impeded if it were believed that my influence was weakened, which would be so serious a matter to me, that I cannot allow any one to touch it, because in that case I should soon become powerless.
The sole cause why you desire a division of that nature is, because you think you play too insignificant a part in public. But who has told you so? I suppose some of your friends, or those who flatter you, and hope to profit by the change, if your influence were increased. But, at the same time, those who call themselves my friends, and probably with the same intention, have said to me, "You allow Brandt too much power; he and Frau von Holstein manage everything, if not by straight ways, then by crooked. It is better to cling to Brandt, for all whom he protects prosper better than those protected by you."
I have never refused you anything. You desired the Holstein, and I consented, in spite of my repugnance. Her husband has rewarded me badly for it. It is not his fault that the finances have not fallen into utter confusion, and I have even found myself compelled to resist the appearance of possessing influence which he has given himself. You have power over everything which agrees with the principles and with the system accepted by yourself, and have no cause to complain so long as I do not alter, either because my own interests might demand it, or for the sake of another person, whom I am forced to take under my protection. Everything you bring forward only leads to the conclusion that your ambition and vanity are not satisfied. You desire an immediate influence over my mind and my heart. You want to pull down the house because you did not build it, and refuse to inhabit it because it does not belong to you, and you are obliged to share it with another man.
You are the only person who is in possession of all my secrets, and in whom I have in every case confided without reservation. I have no necessity to justify myself for this, for my heart gives me the testimony that I have neglected nothing to prove that which you too would have recognised, were not your heart engaged elsewhere. I do not complain because I have not succeeded in meeting with reciprocal feelings, for it cost me no self-conquest to be devoted to you.
What folly that there can be men who speak of a rivalry between you and the negro lad Moranti! The livery is an insignificant subject among the arrangements I have made. It would have been better had you, instead of withdrawing from the hatred and discontent of the persons by whom you are surrounded, and who represent the court and the public, not mixed yourself up in this matter, for it is wise to be unpleasant to such persons, and this ought to be managed even in an unfair way. I have always striven to produce the king and queen contentment, and have, at least, partially succeeded. If you, on the contrary, strive to please others, you will stray off the road, like your predecessors. You know very well how necessary economy is, and that I request it on every occasion. The queen, though a lady, is not angry with me when I recommend retrenchment as regards her wardrobe. It is of the greatest influence on the general welfare that no paying of fees should exist, and yet you wish that the valet should retain his fees, although I took them away from him, and exposed myself to the risk of having enemies in the king's entourage! I have deprived the king's servants of a lucrative source, and you wish to restore it to them, so as to render yourself popular with these people. These are certainly only trifles, but every sensible man is aware that slight causes frequently produce great effects. We ought, perhaps, to have paid a little more attention to buffoons; for the king would, probably, have applauded farces more than tearful tragedies, and if you had been reproached on that account by foreigners, but had amused the king, would not that have been a sufficient reward for the sacrifice of your taste? If the queen has been mistaken in her opinion about Martini and Paschini, she possesses sufficient good sense to recognise her error, and the whole affair only cost 2,000 dollars. You ought to have dismissed these soi-disant artistes, as I advised you. If the regimental "pot-house fiddlers" had been properly trained and practised in accompaniment, the expenses for flute and violin players would have been saved, who look like beaux, and drive about with four horses. If the balls had been carried on as they began, they would have breathed a natural merriment instead of all the affectation which the dancing-master, favoured by Madame de Holstein, introduced, and which rendered them insipid and tedious, because only a few danced well enough, and the others, the protectress included, were obliged to take lessons of the dancing-master ere they could take part. It was not the monotony but the affectation that ruined the balls; for the king has never been able to learn a set dance. You prefer to gain the applause of the public instead of pleasing your friend, and humouring the whims and peculiarities of the king and queen. The comic element has always been most in demand, because we could not expect to find tragedians. I have explained to you the causes of this a thousand times. That desire is founded in the character of the king and queen, and the relations in which they have always lived.
All your complaints are based on the passion which possesses me at times when at the card table. In other respects, however, I am not aware that I have ever offended against the rules of good behaviour. Your caprice alone has detected such failings in me. If I have insulted you, it occurred through carelessness, and I beg your pardon for it. I will, in future, be more attentive to myself, for it would grieve me were I to offend on this head, though I must confess that I am not happy in the matter of small attentions. As a compensation for this, I may be allowed to boast that I have never neglected any opportunity to please my friends that presented itself to me. Up to the present I was not aware either that persons had found your intercourse with me blamable, and that you ran a risk of injuring your character by it. Such an expression ought never to have passed the lips of a man who boasts of his susceptibility and fine feeling. It is hard to hear such things from a friend, although it has not insulted me; for I do not regulate my respect for others on the opinion of strangers; and I do not remember a single moment when you had cause to be ashamed of my acquaintance. And then, too, what would have become of you if I had followed the advice of my friends?
You accuse me of despotism? Well, if I am a despot in business, your despotism goes much further, for you wish to rule the taste at the theatres, and that of dress, balls, and parties. Loo is the only game that amuses the king; the queen, too, is fond of it, and neither cares for any other game, for I have often proposed it to no effect. That you and the Holstein lose at it, and that they refuse at once to begin another game, is sufficient to set you in a fury. In order to gain access to Frau von Moltke, I lost from 20 to 30 dollars nearly every evening, at a time when I had only a salary of 1,000 dollars. But I did not grumble at it, for I thought a man must regulate himself by the company he associates with. How many persons utterly ruin themselves at other places, in order to be able to live at court, and belong to the circles of the king and queen! The easy manner in which you obtained everything you desired, has led you to consider even those exalted personages as nobodies. My "delicate feeling" is not affected because you lose at play; for, in the first place, I do not always win; and, secondly, you are not without resources by which to recover your losses. However, these are but trifles when the point is to amuse the king and queen; but it is always a dangerous thing to undertake changes in their mode of life. After your return to court, you raised the stakes and bet heavily on the cards. I remember one evening when you won and I lost, but I did not, on that account, recommend more moderate stakes. But it is not you who wish or speak so, but the Holstein, and on that account I am vexed.
I ask you now, whether you do not consider your proposition (about the estates) indelicate and selfish? How have we deserved such great rewards, that we might amuse ourselves in Paris, because we are weary of Copenhagen? For my part, I would not accept such gifts, even if the king entertained the most insane and blind devotion to me, and therefore will not promote such a thing in the slightest degree, but always oppose it.
I shall be very cautious about proposing a friend to the king. He may choose one for himself, and I leave him perfect liberty to do so.
I also beg you to reflect, whether, when engaged with other people, either on business or pleasure, it is possible to avoid all unpleasantness and arrogance? But the more important the object of our action is, the less must we care for such vexations. If I had made some slight concessions, I could have made my fortune, but I declined the chance; for, if I succeed in introducing order into the government, I shall be sufficiently rewarded, although I must now put up with daily ingratitude.
I greatly regret that, in spite of my zealous exertions to render you happy, and thus afford you a proof of my friendship, I have effected exactly the opposite. Still, I beg you to calm yourself, to give no heed to ear-wiggers, to examine your position and what attaches you to it, to weigh the comforts on one side, the unpleasantness on the other; to compare the present with the past and the future, and to draw a final conclusion. I have spoken to you frankly and perhaps rather roughly. From the latter, you must not conclude that I am prejudiced against you: for I only did so because I felt convinced that Frau von Holstein is the cause of your dissatisfaction. You can say far more bitter things to me without arousing me. But so long as you maintain your connections with that lady, you will always find me reserved and susceptible, whether it is that I do not like the woman, or because I am jealous at being obliged to share your friendship with her. Pray reflect what a self-conquest it must have cost me to pay her such attention, or even to allow her to remain in Copenhagen.
Finally, I request you not to take any precipitate step, but to speak to me frequently about your affairs, so that we may discover a way to satisfy you. I will willingly sign any proposition to that effect.
Struensee.
From the above answer of the cabinet minister, we see that he was most anxious to remain on good terms with Brandt, although he could not suppress his disgust about the liaison with Frau von Holstein. Yet he would scarce have treated his supposed friend so generously, had he had an idea of the odious design which Brandt undertook soon after against him.
A few days after the festival given to the dockyard-men, at the beginning of October, Brandt proposed to Falckenskjold to go through the garden to the king's sleeping apartment, induce the monarch to get up, take him privily to Copenhagen, and then arrest Struensee.
"What?" Falckenskjold exclaimed, in amazement and disgust. "You would effect the ruin of your friend, the man to whom you owe everything?"
Brandt replied that Struensee could be conducted to Kronborg, whence he could pass over into Sweden, and that as much money as he desired could be given him.
"And the queen?" Falckenskjold enquired.
"Oh, I will take charge of her," Brandt answered. "I understand the art of amusing women. I will direct their pleasures: I would convert this court, where we now lead a very wretched life into a place of delight. As for the government, that can be carried on how they please, for I do not propose to interfere in that."[15]
Falckenskjold replied, that there was a good deal to lose and nothing to gain by the affair, and asked Brandt how he supposed they would both fare if they fell into other hands.
"Bah!" Brandt exclaimed; "I have studied the law, and will be able to answer. I only wish to have an end of this: I long to see this government overthrown."
Falckenskjold finally gave him the sensible advice to keep such ill-digested plans to himself, and kept the affair secret from Struensee.
About the same time, another man meditated designs of a similar nature against Struensee. This was Von der Osten, who, though overwhelmed with favours, did not mean honestly by his protector, and could not conceal his dissatisfaction. Von der Osten had a separate interview with Reverdil and Brandt: to the former he spoke about overthrowing the favourite, but could make but little capital out of the honest Swiss. What he proposed to Brandt will be best seen from the latter's report to Reverdil:—
"Osten," Brandt said to Reverdil a few days after the interview, "is a coward and a villain, who would like to employ you and me in pulling the chestnuts out of the fire. Some days ago, he gave me a midnight interview, and finding me well disposed through the anonymous letters I had received, he represented to me the public distress in such lively colours, that I entered with him into the project of arresting Struensee, and this is the plan I proposed to him:—
"In one of your (Reverdil's) drives with the king, you would lead him to Rudersdahl (an inn on the road to Copenhagen). Osten, Colonel Numsen, and other persons would be assembled there: the king would be induced to go on to the capital, after signing the order, which would be entrusted to Numsen, to convey Struensee to Kronborg, and arrest the queen in her apartments. Numsen would be able to get back to Hirschholm almost at the same time as the king arrived in Copenhagen, and before the queen suspected our interview and the removal of Struensee. Besides, I should remain there to divert attention, and prevent them learning too soon what had become of him. Struensee, once arrested, would be allowed to escape to Sweden, and I would soon find means to console the queen.
"Osten approved the whole plan, except that he refused to go to Rudersdahl; he, therefore, was willing to have the entire power placed in his hands, if it could be done without danger to his own person, and so I would not undertake anything."[16]
Osten had the meanness to report the whole proposal to Struensee, but the latter said to Brandt very nobly, when alluding to Reverdil in the course of conversation: "Reverdil is so honest a man, that if he led the king to Rudersdahl in order to hand him over to my enemies, and they procured my arrest, and, probably, my execution, I could not help esteeming him; because, in acting so, he would believe he was promoting the public welfare."
While intrigues were being privately formed against Struensee, public attacks were also made upon him. Repeatedly when the king changed horses at Sorgenfrie, on his journey to Copenhagen, petitions and calumnies were thrown into his coach. The number of caricatures and placards posted up constantly increased; and in pamphlets their Majesties were attacked, and the man accused and ridiculed to whom the freedom of the press was owing. The sailors' feast also gave scope for the most unbridled attacks upon Struensee. He was said to be a traitor to the nation, and his reforms entail the ruin of the state. The well-known historian Langebeck published an anonymous pamphlet, under the title "New Specimen of the Liberty of Writing, printed in the Golden Age of the Press," which was, in truth, a specimen of press impudence. In this wretched pamphlet he warned the king "to sit firmly on his throne, and not suffer any one to tear a jewel from his crown;" and his boldness went so far that "he pitied the king, who could have converted the spot of earth confided to him into a paradise, if he had only liked to have done so."
The cabinet minister regarded all this with equanimity, and remained calm even when Falckenskjold and Brandt urged him to take precautionary steps for his personal safety. To Falckenskjold he replied that the latter had grown accustomed in Russia to see conspiracies everywhere, and it was assuredly more glorious to reform a state than to win a battle. To Brandt he said bluntly that his warnings were tiresome, and that he would not allow himself to be disturbed in his undertakings. In short, Struensee was so busied with his plans, that he heeded neither warnings nor threats. Although he was well aware that he had attracted the hatred of the queen dowager and her son, by destroying all their influence over the king and court, he did not deign to concern himself about their cabals. The old queen was not supposed to trouble herself about affairs of state, and was not credited with any bold spirit. As for the hereditary prince, he was only eighteen years of age, and equally poorly endowed in mind and body. He had just received a terrible insult, as he considered it, from Falckenskjold, who did not order his regimental band to cease playing as Prince Frederick rode past, and who was said to have answered the adjutant who proposed to him to stop the performance—"No, not even if le bon Dieu were to come along!" The queen dowager, too, had felt very much annoyed because the king and court had merely sent two pages to congratulate her on her last birthday on September 4.
It is true that Struensee, by Falckenskjold's advice, made an effort to effect a rapprochement between the two families, by inviting the king's two relatives to Hirschholm twice a week. But he soon grew tired of this ceremonial politeness, and told Falckenskjold that he was sick of the visits of the king's stepmother and half-brother. In October, Struensee was informed that the hereditary prince was at the head of a party, which meditated the seizure of their Majesties; but, although it appears incredible, the menaced minister paid as little heed to this news as to the warnings of his friends: he merely answered: "The purity of my views is my protection."[17]
About this time, several respected officials of high standing were dismissed. The aged Privy Councillor Gram and Amtmann Dau lost their posts, and the master of the hunt, Chamberlain von Levetzau, became the successor of both. Two assessors of the Supreme Court were also dismissed, but with large pensions. At court, Privy Councillor von Staffeldt, the chief equerry, lost his post, and only received as compensation a small farm near Copenhagen, that produced 500 dollars a year. The management of the royal stables was entrusted to Struensee's friend, Baron von Bülow. Lastly, although Rear-Admiral Kaas was acquitted by the committee that investigated his conduct as commander of the squadron sent against Algiers, and the unsuccessful attack on the piratical city, he received no compensation for the loss of his post.
CHAPTER III.
THE MUTINY OF THE GUARDS.
RESTRICTIONS ON THE PRESS—THE PAMPHLETEERS—THE KING AT HOME—THE FIGHT WITH BRANDT—THE MASTER OF THE WARDROBE—COURT AMUSEMENTS—THE TOWN COMMANDANT—PUBLIC DISAFFECTION—THE FOOT GUARDS—THE MUTINY—VISIT TO FREDERIKSBERG—BEHAVIOUR OF THE CITIZENS—STRUENSEE GIVES WAY—COLONEL KEITH.
While Struensee thus continued to augment the number of his enemies, he, however, began to take some measures of security. The palace guard at Hirschholm which had hitherto been commanded by a non-commissioned officer, was raised to thirty-two men of the flying corps, who were fed from the royal kitchen, and received a day's pay of five schillings, which, at that period, when the line soldier only received three schillings a-day, was very high. When the king and queen, in whose vicinity Struensee remained as much as he could, proceeded to the capital, their carriage was always surrounded by a powerful escort, two men riding on either side, and when they remained in town, either at the palace or the playhouse, the guards were doubled.
At Sorgenfrie policemen kept the people from pressing too closely upon the royal carriage, and these guardians of the public peace were also ordered to tear down each morning the pasquinades and caricatures posted against the houses during the night. In addition, their Majesties drove from their summer residence to Copenhagen at an unusual rate, and hardly any one in the city was aware of their arrival till they passed through one or the other gate. If they passed a guard, the latter usually shouldered arms, but did not offer any of the usual honours. Their Majesties and suite, when they visited the French plays, did not enter the theatre by the grand door, but went up a flight of stairs on the side, and never before had the royal couple been seen with so heavy an escort as on the night of October 17, when they proceeded from the theatre to Rosenborg gardens, in order to witness the fireworks.
The disbandment of the flying corps of two squadrons, which had been suspected of insubordination, also gave rise to ugly rumours. Shortly after, their commander, Colonel and Chamberlain von Numsen, a man who was known to be talented and powerful, but is represented by Suhm as given to drink, and amours, and of a treacherous character, was transferred to Jütland as commandant of a dragoon regiment, and ordered to set out at once. Among the public this removal aroused the greater attention, because the colonel was regarded as a faithful adherent of Struensee, and seemed very necessary now as a courageous defender of the count. A part of the men were sent to Jütland also, and the rest were placed under Major von Adeler, but were disbanded early in November. It was rumoured that Struensee was suspicious of the flying corps, though he had founded it himself, because not only the officers, but also a majority of the Guardsmen, were Danes. The regiment of Zeeland dragoons, commanded by Major-General von Eickstedt, was selected to take the place of the disbanded Guards, and in October two squadrons of them marched into Copenhagen, under the command of Major von Carstenskjold, one of which was told off to Hirschholm to mount guard over the court. The other two squadrons followed shortly after. The report about the disbandment of the flying squadron was, therefore, in all probability, purposely spread, because the new regiment called in consisted almost entirely of Danes. To complete the military measures of precaution, nearly all the Norwegian sailors were sent on furlough.
Lastly, the government found it necessary to put a check on the impudent attacks of the press. A rescript was issued, in which it was stated that the government saw with anger that evil-minded persons took advantage of the decree of September 14, 1770, to print offensive documents, and thus make an improper use of the liberty of the press which had been granted. By royal order, therefore, Struensee on October 3, requested an opinion from the Danish Chancery as to what measures would be best adapted to keep down the licence of the press, and on the 7th of the same month an edict appeared addressed to the authorities throughout the kingdom, containing "Stricter Regulations for the Publication of Books and Pamphlets without Censorship." In this edict the king declared that, as it could not be tolerated that a criminal use of the granted liberty of the press should be made in contravening other civil laws, all insults, pasquinades, and seditious writings would be subjected to legal punishments. In order to prevent the misuse of the press henceforth, every author of a work would be responsible that it contained nothing contrary to the existing laws and orders. Hence all printers would be for the future prohibited from printing books whose author's name they could not supply, or reprinting any work on whose title-page the name of the author or printer was not stated. For it would be an utter misapplication of freedom from censorship if it were to be regarded as synonymous with perfect impunity for printed insults and offences.[18]
This restriction of the hitherto existing liberty of the press was carried out most humanely. No prosecution for libels took place in Denmark or Norway during Struensee's ministry, and only in the duchies an exchequer process was instituted against Count Waldemar von Schmettau for the "Pages for the Love of Truth," published by him. Struensee's own father, the superintendant-general of the duchies, denounced the author to the chief consistory of Gluckstädt as a blasphemer.
The new regulations at first kept the literary partisans in some check, and toned down the former coarse and unbridled attacks on the government. But the libellers soon found out a way of employing their satirical powers without fear of punishment, and the sharpest pasquinades appeared in succession, whose mere titles were sufficient to make the reader comprehend their drift. Other pamphleteers contrived to wrap up their attacks on Struensee and his ministry in such an artful way as not to infringe on the new regulations.[19]
Such were the precautionary measures which Struensee took in the autumn of 1771 to protect the royal couple, himself, and his ministry. In other respects, he took all imaginable trouble to render the king's life pleasant. Reverdil was requested to keep his Majesty au courant with French literature, and to be his regular companion. It was not Struensee's object, however, to gain a support for his power in Reverdil; for though he considered him a thoroughly honest man, he kept rather aloof from him, as he feared his integrity and correct judgment. About two months after Reverdil's return, an ex-favourite of the king, Chamberlain von Warnstedt, who had been removed very suddenly, was recalled to court. This gentleman, however, did not succeed in regaining the king's favour, and Struensee, therefore, appointed a new page, in the person of Von Schack, to wait on the king, who pined for change.
In the meanwhile, Professor Berger continued to watch the king's health carefully, and ordered him to continue drinking the waters from September till December. On his morning visits to hand the patient his medicine he spoke but little, and when he noticed that these visits did not please the king, he left them off. As we have said, Berger had begun also to become cold toward Struensee.
The same servants still waited on the king who had done so before Struensee's appearance at court. The king's usual society consisted of the two boys, who were obliged to drive away ennui by all sorts of tricks, and certainly did not receive any confidence on the part of Struensee.[20] The king's immediate entourage, consequently, could hardly be regarded as instruments of the minister, and it was no more difficult than under the previous minister to obtain an audience of the king. There is no absolute proof that officials and others who could claim access to the king requested an audience in vain.
Hitherto it had been Brandt's duty to find the king amusement. But just as this gentleman was beginning to hesitate in his former friendship for Struensee, he now sank more and more in the king's favour. There had been a time when the king repeatedly said to Brandt, that no one knew him so well as he did, or was so like him. But this connexion was now greatly altered, and ere long a scene occurred between the two which, though apparently of slight consequence in the life of such a king, was destined to have the most serious results for Brandt. Christian VII. expected that those persons who were his daily associates should have their heart in the right place, as he used to say, and prove it to him. According to the king's will, however, this courage consisted in fighting and wrestling with their master, although the law sentenced any man to death who dared even to stretch out a hand against his Majesty's sacred person. The king had frequently tried his strength with Holck and Warnstedt. As he had seen no proofs of Brandt's personal courage, although he had repeatedly challenged him, he one day in November insisted on Brandt trying his strength with him.[21]
At the queen's breakfast-table, in the presence of eight or ten persons, the king, who hardly ever joined in the conversation, after muttering to himself for some minutes, suddenly raised his voice, and imitating a favourite actor, said:
"I will give you a sound thrashing. I am speaking to you, Count, do you hear?"
This insult was unprovoked, and Brandt, as a thorough courtier, concealed the impression it made upon him. The hearers of it held their tongue. A moment after, the queen and Struensee, drawing the king aside, spoke to him very sharply. On a later occasion, when the favourite again expostulated, the king repeated: "Brandt is a thorough coward if he will not fight with me." He also said to Brandt, that if he had known what a cur he was, he would have hidden behind the door and killed him when he came in.
Struensee and Brandt consulted as to what was best to be done. Struensee was of opinion that the wisest thing would be for Brandt to go into the king's apartment in the evening, and say, "As your Majesty is determined to fight with me, I am now here at your service. So if you want anything, come on."
On the day before the execution of this plan, Brandt incautiously concealed a riding-whip inside a pianoforte that stood in the royal ante-room, with the intention of frightening his opponent with it, but changed his mind.
In the evening, Brandt entered the king's chamber quite calmly, ordered the two boys to retire, and bolted the door after them. Then he turned to the king, saying, that his Majesty desired to have a specimen of his courage on his own person: he was quite ready. The king having declined pistols and swords in turn, they agreed to fight with fists. Up to this point it was an extravagance, authorised, to a certain extent, by the example of former favourites; but during the fight Brandt behaved cowardly. He forgot both the consequences his brutality might have, and the respect due to his master as sovereign: he beat him unmercifully, and bit his fingers. The poor king yelled for quarter, which Brandt at length granted him, and left him terribly bruised, and even more frightened.
Brandt proceeded to the queen's apartments, where the company were seated at the card table. When the game was over, he told Struensee what had happened, to which the latter replied: "Well, I am glad of that, as we shall be at peace for the future; but do not tell any one about it."
They were, however, compelled to inform the valet, who found the king's throat grazed, and the result was, that other persons soon heard of the affair. From this time, however, Brandt behaved more submissively to the king, in order to keep him in check. This did not please the king, and Struensee effected a species of reconciliation between them. As a consequence of it, Brandt was appointed, on November 26, Maître de la Garderobe du Roi, which satisfied his vanity, as it procured him the title of Excellency.
The instructions the new officer received from Struensee were to the effect that henceforth he would have, in addition to the direction of the theatre, the orchestra, and the court amusements, the management of all the king's household—the pages, valets, lackeys, hairdressers, &c.—so that the servants might perform their duties with accuracy. In addition, the king's wardrobe would be entirely in his charge; and he would regulate all the household expenses, save in the matter of pens, ink, and sealing-wax, which would in future be supplied in kind from the expeditions cabinet. To such trivialities did the all-powerful minister condescend.
By this appointment Brandt was more than ever attached to a court which he desired to leave. It seems that Struensee tried to satisfy him in every possible way, for he offered him Von der Osten's ministry, a post for which Brandt did not possess the slightest ability; although that, after all, was of little consequence, as Struensee expedited all the foreign affairs himself.
At the queen's court two new ladies-in-waiting, Fräuleins von Kalkreuter and Von Thienen, were appointed in November, and soon gained Caroline Matilda's attachment. Frau von Schimmelmann, Generaless von Gähler, Countess von Holstein, and Conferenz-räthinn Fabricius, were the queen's most intimate friends toward the close of the year; and as a proof of her special favour, she presented Frau von Gähler with a set of carriage-horses, Countess Holstein with a saddle-horse, and Frau von Fabricius with a solitaire.
The court amusements were now arranged on a settled plan for every day of the week. In September, there was every Wednesday at court at Hirschholm, and after the court, an Italian operetta. Twice a week, on Tuesday and Friday, French plays were performed at the Royal Theatre in Copenhagen, which the king and queen were accustomed to attend, and to which persons of rank and respectable citizens had free admission. But by Brandt's orders there were separate seats for the nobility and the bourgeoisie. In order to complete the troupe, Captain Düval was sent to Paris to engage actors. Thrice a week there were hunts, for the chase was the chief amusement of the court, and the queen managed her horse like a first rate equestrian. At times the royal party appeared on the parade-ground of the dragoons; and in October they were present at the races, when a royal huntsman thrice won the highest prize. The royal couple also witnessed the fireworks given to the public at Rosenborg, under the management of Chamberlain Gabel; and went thence to the palace of Frederiksberg to see Brambilla's "pantomimic games" and exercises in the "higher art of balancing."
We see that there was no want of amusements and diversions at court. But as the king was growing more and more averse to business, this was probably chiefly carried out for the purpose of cheering him up, although he evidently only vegetated from one day to the other.
On November 30 the court quitted the summer residence of Hirschholm, as a rather severe winter had already set in, but did not proceed at once to the Christiansborg, but in the first instance to Frederiksberg Palace, outside the city. It was perfectly well known in public that the royal pair had selected this palace for their temporary residence, and that the reason they had not come to it before was, because a new road was being made from it to the city, and was only just completed; but Struensee's enemies saw in the lengthened residence at Hirschholm only a proof of the favourite's fear to approach the capital.
At Frederiksberg there was a court every Monday, on Thursday and Friday a French play at the Royal Theatre, and on Wednesday an Italian opera at the Danish playhouse. At times there was a hawking party outside the Norderthor, at which the king and queen were often present on horseback with Struensee. At home the king played draughts, read novels, or walked about the park with his new page of the chamber, Von Schack, to whom he had taken a liking. The queen also frequently went out with the harriers.
At Frederiksberg, military arrangements were also made for the security of the court. A squadron of dragoons was quartered in the outbuildings, and not only mounted guard, but patrolled the surrounding country. When the king and queen drove to town, their coach was guarded by forty dragoons with drawn sabres. At the same time, Struensee tried to provide for the safety of the city.
The minister was not pleased with Colonel von Sames, the commandant, for he knew that he was an intimate friend of Rantzau-Ascheberg; interfered in many things that did not concern him; and, in addition, annoyed the favourite with all sorts of plans for improving the city, in which he proposed to pull down entire quarters. Struensee, also, did not consider it in accordance with military rules that a cavalry colonel should command a garrison consisting of seven infantry regiments, while the king had to pay seventy general officers. He therefore consulted Falckenskjold, who proposed to him the Prince of Bevern, governor of Rendsberg at the time, as commandant of the capital. But Struensee did not want so influential a man for the post, and was of opinion that a major-general of infantry should be selected. There was, consequently, only a choice between the two generals Schuell and Gude; and as the former commanded in Norway, the latter was chosen.[22]
At last Struensee saw that it was necessary to protect himself against the people, in the event of their daring to get up a tumult. He therefore gave the new commandant orders to hold everything in readiness, so as to maintain peace by force if necessary. The heaviest guns in the arsenal were planted on the walls in front of the guard-house and the town gates. The guns on the walls were pointed at the city every evening after tattoo. The soldiers had thirty-six cartridges apiece served out to them, and there was an extraordinary quantity of patrolling. Even loaded cannon were drawn up in front of the palace; and any one who had business to transact there was led in and out by two soldiers.
The king was surprised at this, and asked Count Struensee what was the meaning of these terrible preparations? He replied to the king that all this was done for the protection of his beloved person, as his subjects were aroused against his Majesty; hence it was feared lest the king might meet with the same fate as the unhappy Peter III. The king was terribly alarmed on hearing this; he clasped his hands, and exclaimed, "My God! what harm have I done that my dear and faithful subjects should hate me so?"[23]
Unfortunately, these very precautions served as weapons for the favourite's enemies; and they did not fail to employ them. A report was already spread that it was his intention to dethrone the king, or get rid of him; that he would marry the queen, and be declared protector of the kingdom. The display of loaded guns was regarded as a threatening arrangement, intended to intimidate the people at the moment when the minister's projected revolution was about to break out. A report was spread that Struensee had proposed to disarm the bürger guard, and that the colonel commanding it had replied, that if his men were deprived of their muskets they would defend the king with paving stones. Lastly, the disposition to envenom everything was so great, that Struensee, having set up his own carriage at this time, this novelty was also misinterpreted. It was declared to be the state coach, in which he would figure on the day of the revolution.[24]
In this earnest season, which afforded abundant scope for discouraging reflections, Struensee was, in some incomprehensible way, so busied with court festivities, that he began to neglect those duties connected with the government. Business of importance was left unsettled, and so rapidly accumulated, that the minister decided everything without consideration. It was evident that the blindness of this man, who trusted to his luck, was increasing. We have a confirmation of this in the enterprise which he finally ventured, and which deprived him of the last ray of his favour among the populace, as well as the good opinion of the better classes, and hence was precisely of a nature to hasten his downfall.
A good deal of ill-blood had already been produced by the disbandment of the Horse Guards, and all the officers of the Guards being placed on a level with those of the army and navy. But now Struensee resolved to disband the battalion of Foot Guards, under the pretext that its existence had a deleterious effect on the rest of the army. Falckenskjold, at first, opposed this design, but at length gave way.
On December 21, Struensee issued a cabinet order to the College of the Generalty, by which the five companies of the battalion of Foot Guards were to be changed into so many grenadier companies, and attached to five of the regiments composing the garrison of Copenhagen. The cabinet order was forwarded to the college on the following day; and, though it was Sunday, the members at once assembled in council, but considered the affair of such consequence that they requested to be supplied with the king's written authority. Struensee then requested Falckenskjold to talk the matter over with General von Gähler; he told the latter that the minister would be offended if they refused to carry out the order, and urged the immediate despatch of the necessary commands to the commandant, General Gude, and to the colonel of the Guards, Count von Haxthausen.
Gähler, however, refused to give way, but, instead, joined his colleagues in drawing up a most submissive answer, in which they requested an order signed by the king in person, without which they must decline to execute the cabinet decree, which they considered extremely dangerous. Instead of being induced to reflect over this indirect good advice from experienced men as to the danger of his meditated enterprise, and wisely giving way before this first instance of a refusal to obey a cabinet decree signed by himself alone, the favourite at once obtained the required authority from the king, and forwarded it to the War Department, who immediately yielded.
On the next morning, December 24,—from which the ensuing quarrel was called the Christmas Eve fight,—the palace guard was relieved by the king's regiment, of which Falckenskjold was commander, and the whole battalion of Guards drawn up in line on the the Great King's Market: its effective strength only amounted to three hundred men. The king's order for their disbandment and incorporation with other regiments was read to them, and the officers were present who would take them over. But when the Guards saw that their colours were being taken from them, they rushed forward in a body, and seized them again by force, shouting:
"Those are our colours: we swore obedience upon them! We will risk our lives for them!"
They also said that the agreement with them must be kept, and that it was contrary to that agreement to make them serve in other regiments. Hence, they demanded their discharge, and formation into a fresh corps. The Guards had always regarded themselves as a corps quite distinct from the line: for they ranked with non-commissioned officers of the army, and such punishments as flogging and running the gauntlet could not be inflicted on them.
All the representations of the officers were of no effect. The majority of the mutineers proceeded with the colours in front of the palace: a non-commissioned officer assumed the command, as the officers had withdrawn. Just as the insurgents were about to march off, a courageous staff officer, Chamberlain Lersker, drew his sword, in order to force them to go to their barracks: but the mutineers fell on him and threw him into the gutter. When the commandant also tried to oppose them, they plucked off his peruke, and on hearing him say to the officers of the Guards: "Such fellows certainly deserve flogging," they squeezed him against a wall. They seized Colonel von Sames by the breast, when he also tried to draw his sabre and assist the commandant. On arriving in front of the locked palace gate, they burst it open, drove the company of the king's regiment out of the corps de garde, occupied their posts, and closed the entrance gate of the palace.
In the meanwhile, the line troops attempted to arrest the Guardsmen who remained on the market-place, but the latter offered resistance: the picket stationed at the main guard, which was situated on the market-place, advanced, and there was a free fight. The majority of the Guards, however, cut their way through, and the pickets only succeeded in seizing a few loiterers, and carrying them to the main guard. But the escaped men no sooner saw this than they turned back and dashed at the main guard, in order to liberate their arrested comrades. Being received, however, by the pickets with levelled bayonets, they desisted, and fighting with the other soldiers, forced their way through the streets to the palace, in order to join their confederates. In the course of this disturbance, a Guardsman was killed, and several soldiers wounded.
During this period, Falckenskjold hastened with the news of the mutiny to Frederiksberg Palace, and alarmed the whole court. Count Brandt and Baron von Bülow hurried into the city and to the palace, and made every possible effort to appease the rebellious Guards, but with as little success as the two colonels. The Guards gave the categorical reply, "Remain Guards or our discharge."
After this, the Guards resolved that a party of them should proceed to Frederiksberg, and request an interview with the king. The party set out, found the western gate closed and held; but at the northern gate, the officer of the guard, who was a boy, allowed them to pass. As they were going along the fortifications they met Falckenskjold, to whom the disbandment of the corps was publicly imputed. They consulted together about killing him, but not being quite certain that it was he, they allowed him to pass. A moment after they met the king in his small English calèche, a postilion and an equerry forming his entire escort as usual, and Reverdil being alone with him in the carriage. The soldiers formed a line to let him pass: one of their officers, who had followed them so far, persuaded them to do so, and not to disturb the king, who might be frightened at their sudden appearance, and impute violent designs to them. Neither his Majesty nor Reverdil had received any news about what was going on, and the submissive air of this small company was far from occasioning any idea of a mutiny.[25]
When the Guards reached Frederiksberg, the alarm felt at the small body of mutineers was as great as that produced at Hirschholm by the Norwegian sailors, so that hurried preparations were made for flight. A detachment of dragoons had in the meanwhile arrived to reinforce the palace guard. The latter surrounded the mutineers, but in no way terrified them, but were told by the latter that they wished to speak with the king. One of their own officers, Major von Ahrenfeld, who was a favourite of the Guards, and had hurried to the palace, was sent out to the mutineers, to ask them in the king's name what they wanted. They repeated their former answer, "Remain Guards, or our discharge;" and added, that in the latter case they wished to go wherever they thought proper. The major assured them that he would report their demand to the king, and soon after returned from the palace with a reply that, as the king did not wish to keep any men in his service by force, they were at liberty to go where they pleased.
Satisfied with this answer, the Guards returned to the capital for the purpose of reporting it to their comrades, who were holding the royal palace. But the latter refused to place any confidence in a merely verbal promise, and insisted on a regular discharge for each man before they surrendered the palace. It produced no effect on them that this palace was surrounded by three regiments of infantry and three squadrons of dragoons; on the contrary, they only allowed their own officers to go in and out. At length General von Gähler, fearing lest the scene might have a sanguinary issue, went to Frederiksberg, and brought back a discharge duly signed and sealed for the whole body. But the soldiers, imagining that there was some deception, raised exceptions to the form of the order given them. On hearing this, Struensee said to the Council of the Generalty, "You are soldiers, and must know the means of obtaining obedience; the king insists on the mutineers being removed from the corps de garde before midnight."[26]
How greatly the mutineers had public opinion with them, was seen by the fact that the citizens supplied them with provisions, wine, and spirits, of which a large stock had been laid in for the Christmas festivities. These provisions were lavished on the insurgents, whose cause appeared to the lower classes, and even to three-fourths of the higher classes, that of the nation. The sailors, another turbulent band, but who generally quarrelled with the soldiers, offered their help to the mutineers; and it was publicly reported that the gunners had let them know privately that they would receive them into the arsenal, and join them.
The reason for all this manifestation lay in the reports which had been maliciously spread. It was alleged that the battalion was composed of Norwegians, whose well-known and invincible fidelity to the king would have been an obstacle to the minister's designs. He was going to entrust the defence of the king and the palace to German mercenaries, and so on. Even Reverdil is ready to acknowledge the absurdity of such rumours. Not more than one-half of these men were Norwegians; their service and duty had no connection with the king's personal safety; none of them had been on guard at Hirschholm during the summer, and the king was quite accessible to ill-disposed persons, if such existed. He was peculiarly at the mercy of those to whom evil designs were attributed. At Copenhagen the porters alone had orders to keep away suspicious persons; and if the pretended conspirators had been the ordinary inhabitants of the palace, the porters' guard was as useless as that of the soldiers. There were avenues which were not guarded, and the keys of which were held by the chief personages. The palace could be entered through the stables and the playhouse; lastly, any odious suspicion is destroyed by the fact, that the asserted disbandment of the Foot Guards never took place. They were to have been attached to the different regiments as light companies, but retain their officers and their high pay.[27] In that case they would have mounted guard in their turn.
The garrison remained under arms the whole night, and patrols marched through the streets until the requisite number of printed discharges, signed by the king, had been filled up, and one handed to every Guardsman, with a promise that three dollars should be paid him, and any advance he owed would be wiped off. In this way everybody was contented, and on the Christmas morning the disbanded Guards left the palace of Christiansborg, after holding it for twenty-four hours, and started for their homes. On the next day the Norwegians assembled in the streets, and took leave of the citizens, who collected in mobs round them, while the sailors and populace uttered angry cries for revenge.
When the commandant arrived with an escort of general officers and adjutants to order peace, he was dragged from his horse and hurled on the ground, while his suite were ridiculed, and some of them also maltreated. The discharged Guards, however, took no part in these fresh excesses, but the populace carried them on, and continued to keep the town in a state of excitement for some time after the departure of the Norwegians. How great was the terror at court is proved by the fact that no attempt was made to disarm the Guards, but they were allowed to depart with their arms and accoutrements.
At last tranquillity appeared to be restored in the capital. The king and queen attended divine service on this morning, which, under existing circumstances, appeared significant, as they rarely went to church; and on this Sunday evening, too, they were not present at the French play, as was usually the case.
For the third time, then, Struensee had proved himself a bold reformer at his desk, but a cowardly and undecided opponent of the embittered populace. To the prevalent hatred was now added a high degree of contempt for his capacity of resistance. This bitterness was not aimed against the person of the king, who was regarded as a prisoner in the hands of his minister. On the other hand, no one was disposed to say a word on behalf of the queen, for the most scandalous reports about an illicit connection between her and Struensee were spread about, which found most ready credence among the mob, who are always willing to ascribe their own bad conduct to the higher classes, and were even gladly listened to in better society, as affording an admirable scope for the most exciting scandal.
In this menacing state of affairs the English envoy, Colonel Keith, thought it dangerous to keep silence any longer. Although he held but an insignificant position at court, and slight attention was paid to his representations and proposals, he was determined to interfere, so that he might, at least, secure the safety of his monarch's sister, as he foresaw what was hanging over the detested minister unless he entirely altered his plans. Hence he went to Struensee, showed him the precipice on whose edge he was standing, and offered him a large sum of money if he would resign his office and leave the country. Struensee seemed affected by the minister's language, but considered that duty compelled him to remain at his post.[28]
Thus matters stood at court at the end of the year 1771. Black clouds were gathering over the heads of Caroline Matilda, Struensee, and Brandt, and ere long the storm would burst and crush them all three.
CHAPTER IV.
THE CONSPIRACY.
STRUENSEE'S BLINDNESS—DANGEROUS RUMOURS—WE ARE SEVEN—VON BERINGSKJOLD—A CONSPIRATOR—THE QUEEN DOWAGER'S ASSENT—SECRET MEETINGS—THE MASKED BALL—A FATALITY—RANTZAU'S VACILLATION—THE VISIT TO THE KING—THE ORDER TO ARREST CAROLINE MATILDA.
The new year began, as the previous one had terminated, with a fruitless warning to Struensee. In spite of the anger which Rantzau-Ascheberg entertained against the minister, he had not given up all hope of inducing him to alter his mode of conduct. The Swedish envoy, Baron von Sprengtporten, who had no cause to be dissatisfied with Struensee's policy, and wished to effect a reconciliation between the cabinet minister and Rantzau, persuaded the latter to pay Struensee a visit.[29]
Shortly after new year's day Rantzau waited on the minister, turned the conversation to the events of the day, and represented the perils that menaced his old friend if he persisted in his present system. Struensee, who was by this time completely blinded by self-conceit, thanked his former attached partisan for his well-intended advice, but was of opinion that he could trust to the purity of his designs, and dismissed Rantzau with his expectations unfulfilled. Perhaps the interview would have been decisive had Rantzau had an honest intention of moving Struensee, and been a man who could imbue him with any degree of confidence. But if the unhappy minister had calmly considered the circumstances of the remarkable visit, and the meaning of this unusual conversation, it is possible that Rantzau might still have been induced to stand off from his designs, especially as up to the last moment he was very doubtful of the result.[30]
Rantzau, however, made a second attempt. At the next meeting of the College of Generalty he drew Falckenskjold on one side, imparted to him that a rumour of a conspiracy against Struensee was in circulation, and added, that in his opinion an investigation should be instituted. He offered to help in it; but Falckenskjold heard the news coldly, because he considered Rantzau himself a suspicious character, and answered him, "In that case you should apply personally to Struensee."—"He will not listen to me," Rantzau retorted, and turned away.[31]
If we compare these repeated warnings, and the insurrectionary temper of the city with the last out-breaks, we cannot but accept it as a certain fact, that Struensee had grown blind to every danger that threatened him. He had not only the discharged ministers, officials, and courtiers, against him, but also the party of the king, the queen dowager, and Prince Frederick, the whole of the nobility, the clergy, and the bourgeoisie. It may fairly be said that he was an Ishmael, against whom every man's hand was raised, and he could rely on nobody but an imbecile king, ready to listen to the last speaker, and a young, inexperienced, and unfortunately deceived queen. Struensee must have built upon the almost inexplicable power which he had over the king, and that he would not be induced to injure his minister. Perhaps, too, he allowed himself to be persuaded by his pride sooner to venture everything than undergo the humiliation of resigning his authority.
As the reader will remember, from the anonymous letters sent to Brandt, secret designs were formed as early as the summer of 1771 to overthrow Struensee. But at that time it was not found possible to induce the queen dowager to take part in any plan for the removal of the favourite. It was supposed for a while that a suitable instrument had been found in Reverdil to draw the king out of Struensee's hands; and Berger, the physician in ordinary, undertook to sound him. The honest Swiss, however, replied that, though he was not at all an admirer of Struensee, he had not sufficient influence over the king to induce him to discharge his minister. As, too, Reverdil was greatly attached to the queen, this was probably a further reason why he should feel disinclined to aid in the overthrow of her favourite.[32]
After seven months' absence, the court returned to Copenhagen on January 8, 1772, and the usual festivities began with a ball at the Christiansborg Palace on the following evening. At the end of the French performance at the palace theatre, which was given thrice a week, the ladies and gentlemen who had attended the theatre were allowed admission to the queen's ante-rooms. The first of the performances was on Saturday evening, January 11, and the queen paid a short visit to the company present; on the following Monday there was a Cour.
Arrangements for securing the safety of the royal family were also made in the capital. The palace guard was doubled, a double cavalry post was drawn up at each entrance to the palace, and in front of the corps de garde, and day and night pickets of cavalry, with drawn sabres, patrolled the streets.
At the same time, the most fabulous reports were spread. It was declared that the garrison and the whole army, especially the artillery, had received private instructions, and had been supplied with many rounds of cartridge. Their hatred of the cabinet minister caused even sensible persons to credit the most absurd reports; among others, the invention that the king was going to abdicate, and the queen be declared regent during the minority of her son. Even the letter S, set in diamonds, affixed to the cap of Struensee's running footman, gave rise to the most disquieting explanations. In a word, such a violent and general fermentation prevailed in the capital, that it must lead to the worst, if a leader could only be found. For, though Struensee's enemies were so numerous, they as yet had no nucleus round which to gather. A fervent hatred of the minister filled all hearts, but fear kept the bitterness in check: they shouted and roared, but obeyed the authority, until the right leaders were found in the higher circles. These persons were Queen Juliana Maria, the hereditary Prince Frederick Guldberg, the prince's private secretary, Count Rantzau-Ascheberg, Colonels von Eickstedt and Von Köller, and the serviceable Beringskjold.
Juliana Maria and her son had long felt insulted by the seclusion in which they were kept, but the lady had been very careful to keep her sentiments concealed. She was described by her foes as an ambitious and blood-thirsty woman: other writers, however, among them the excellent Reverdil, declare that she was more sinned against than sinning. Even the way employed to draw her into the plot against the favourite, was of a nature to deceive even a more sensible woman. In order to secure her adhesion, a paper was shown her containing a full account of the court plot: January 28 was the day fixed for the king's abdication, and the appointment of Matilda as regent, and Struensee as protector. The elder Struensee was said to have drawn up the deed of abdication; and in order that no proof might be wanting, a copy of this plan, which never existed in the original, was allowed to fall into the hands of Suhm, who was known to be a red-hot Dane. This copy he at once sent to Juliana Maria, and employed the following argument to persuade her:—
"There was no time to be lost; for the man who meditated usurping the regency ere long, would not hesitate before a further crime. The death of the king assured him the couch of Queen Matilda, and the prince royal, either immolated, or succumbing beneath the rigours of his education, would make way for his sister, the too manifest proof of their adulterine amours. For what other motive had Struensee revoked the law which prohibited a repudiated wife from marrying the accomplice of her infidelity?"[33]
Prince Frederick was not naturally bad hearted; but being as weak in mind as he was crippled in his person, he entirely depended on his mother's will. The annoyance of these two royal personages at their estrangement from court was notorious, and shared by many persons; but assuredly by no one so much as by Guldberg, who, as private secretary to Prince Frederick, was the confidant of both.
Owe Hörg Guldberg was born in 1731, at the town of Horsens in Jütland, where his father, who had failed in business, was sexton of the Town Church. The poor circumstances of his family rendered it necessary for him to obtain assistance while attending the Town Gymnasium, and he could not have continued his further studies, had not a well-to-do uncle helped him. After leaving school, he went to Copenhagen, but could not continue his studies for any length of time, for want of means. Hence he returned to Jütland, where he became a tutor, and employed his leisure hours in preparing himself for the university examination. In 1754 he passed the theological examination, and received a certificate of "haud illaudabilis;" after which he remained in Copenhagen, and turned author, although he devoted himself to religious subjects. The first book he published bore the title "Memoirs of a Converted Freethinker," and was an unmistakable allusion to such men as Struensee. Soon after he commenced a universal history of the world, which was not continued, however, as he began diligently studying the classics, which procured him, in 1761, a professorship at the Sorö Academy, and three years later the post of governor to the hereditary prince, who was then eleven years of age. Guldberg obtained the title of Etats-rath in 1770, about the time when Struensee was appointed a councillor of conference.
Guldberg was a man considerably below the middle height. His forehead was lofty, and his nose aquiline: his eyes glistened sharply and expressively, and round his lips there was a certain softness. The chief expression of his face, however, was that earnestness which is generally found in the countenances of pietists. Another description of Guldberg[34] speaks more decisively as to the true character of this leader of the conspiracy against Struensee and Caroline Matilda. According to this author, Guldberg's person was a faithful copy of Fielding's Blifil, with the face of a cat, and the glance of a fox. Twining and slippery as an eel, crawling and submissive with higher persons, he was violent and coarse with subordinates.
Consequently, we may reasonably assume that it was not so much Guldberg's devotion to his mistress as his religious opinion of the mischief produced by Struensee's ministry and his national Danism, which urged him to take a zealous but most cautious part in the conspiracy against the minister, for he was perfectly well aware that his neck would be in danger if it failed. The most cautious of the coterie, and holding a high position, he had become the leader of the conspiracy, owing to his direct influence over the two royal participators in it.
As regards Rantzau-Ascheberg, whose character has already been depicted, we have only to say of him that he was now as angry with the Danish government, i.e., Struensee, for his foiled expectations, as he had been with the Petersburg government. With extreme haughtiness he combined a permanent dissatisfaction with what existed, and a liking for extraordinary undertakings. In one respect he resembled Struensee: in decisive moments his courage broke down. Proud and ignorant, he appeared to believe that a noble descent and an arrogant manner must suffice to make him be regarded as a man of importance. He was utterly ignorant of the behaviour of an elegant and polished aristocrat. Naturally imperious and violent in everything he undertook, he seemed to regard reason and conscience as bugaboos to frighten children and weak-minded persons.
The fifth of the conspirators was Von Köller, colonel of the Holstein infantry regiment. A partisan of Rantzau, he was one of the most important members of the conspiracy, because in his person he united all the qualities which are requisite to carry out revolutions coupled with high treason. A bold, though coarse soldier, urged by unbridled ambition, and equally passionate in temper, he was at the same time an impudent boaster, had an imposing person, and the strength of an athlete.[35]
Brevet Major-General Hans Henry von Eickstedt commanded the regiment of Seeland dragoons which had taken the place of the disbanded Guards. Like Köller, he was a native of Pomerania, whence his ancestors came to Denmark toward the end of the seventeenth century, and purchased several estates in Holstein. Eickstedt bought himself a regiment, which was possible in the Danish army at that day, and, on the accession of Christian VII., he was appointed colonel and chief of the above-mentioned dragoon regiment. He was considered a worthy man but of rather limited intellect, which was probably the reason why it was proposed to put him on half-pay in 1771; but Falckenskjold, who knew his value in an administrative capacity, prevented his dismissal. When the Seeland dragoons were ordered to Copenhagen, and to do duty at the palace, Eickstedt believed he had a claim for promotion, and as his request was not acceded to, he joined the malcontents.
When the proposed conspiracy was hinted to him, Eickstedt, who up to this time had been unknown by the court and the nobles, and to whom this opportunity of playing a distinguished part appeared like a dream, was so raised above the sphere of his usual thoughts by the mere idea of being able to do a queen a service, that he was unable to reflect over the consequences of the commission entrusted to him. He blindly obeyed the queen dowager's will, and promised to do everything that was asked of him.[36]
The seventh in rank among the conspirators was the Commissary-General of War von Beringskjold, who had been an acquaintance of Rantzau in Petersburg. His baptismal name was Magnus Bering; he was born in 1720, the son of a tradesman at Horsens, and was descended from Vitus Bering, the celebrated circumnavigator in the Russian service. The daughter of this seafarer, who was said to be married to Councillor of Chancery Lüxdorph, was raised to noble rank.
After Magnus Bering had studied for awhile at Copenhagen, he established himself as a colonial merchant, but soon became bankrupt, and cheated a poor student out of his entire fortune. As Bering was prosecuted for this, he escaped to Germany, entered the imperial service, and was ennobled, in 1753, by the Emperor Francis I. by the name of Beringskjold. He then proceeded to Petersburg, where he set up as a merchant again, and at the same time performed the part of a Danish spy. During his residence in the latter city the overthrow of Peter III. was decided on, and, as we have already seen, he and Rantzau took part in that sanguinary event. The emperor's murder had been scarce accomplished ere Beringskjold set out at once for Copenhagen with the most agreeable news for the Danish court, and for his good tidings received a pension and the post of commissary-general.
Shortly after, Beringskjold purchased the royal domain of Nygaard, the present Marienborg, on the island of Möen, but, as he was unable to raise the sum of 10,000 dollars when the time arrived for a payment on account, he was dispossessed of the estate again. This fatality forced him to return to Copenhagen, where he renewed his old acquaintance with Rantzau, and willingly joined the conspiracy against Struensee, as he was always ready for intrigues and spying services.[37]
At the first glance, we might consider it an historical enigma that men like these five could succeed in carrying out in a few hours a thorough revolution, and that no other acts of violence should take place, save the immediate revolting ill-treatment of the three persons selected as victims. For us, however, it is no riddle. We are acquainted with Struensee's incaution: the hatred which the clerical party entertained for him: the detestation of the Danes: the numerous foes he had in the army and navy and the officials: in a word, his utter isolation. Struensee himself said, after his fall, that he had no other friends but the weak king and queen; and as, in spite of the numerous warnings that had been given him, he could not resolve to take the necessary precautions for his ministry and his person, he positively offered the conspirators an opportunity for overthrowing him.
The greatest activity in this respect was displayed by the most notorious of the conspirators, Von Beringskjold. Well trained at Petersburg, he was fully aware that palace revolutions could not be carried out without military assistance. He it was that played the principal part in gaining over Von Eickstedt, and laid all the plans for inducing Maria Juliana to place herself at the head of the conspiracy. He found the proper person to effect this in Jacob Jessen, ex-valet of Frederick V., who was now living on a pension, but was at the same time purveyor of wines to the queen dowager. In October, 1771, Beringskjold went to this man, and mentioned, in the course of conversation, how opposed Struensee's government was to the Lex Regia and the laws of the country, that universal dissatisfaction prevailed in consequence, and that evil might be apprehended. When Jessen refused to believe the last statement, Beringskjold invited him to come to his house at ten o'clock the following morning, as Colonel von Eickstedt would then be with him. Jessen could remain hidden, and listen to the conversation with Eickstedt, by which he would most assuredly be convinced that a plan existed to overthrow Struensee.
Jessen appeared at the appointed hour, and heard that, beside Von Eickstedt, Colonel von Köller was also present. The gentlemen expressed their determination to overthrow Struensee, and the two colonels reckoned on the support of their regiments and of the artillery in doing so. A few days after, Colonel Eickstedt sent the ex-valet a message, through Beringskjold, to grant him an interview, which was to take place at the rooms of the latter. Jessen went, and the colonel proposed to him to go quietly to Fredensborg—where the queen dowager and her son were residing at the time—and inform them that an insurrection against Struensee was being prepared, for which he (Eickstedt), Colonel Köller, and other gentlemen had drawn up the plan. The queen and hereditary prince were invited to place themselves at the head of the anti-Struensee party, in order by their authority to prevent the excited populace from committing excesses on innocent persons.
The queen dowager had already been fully prepared for the event by the forged document shown her by Suhm. She consulted with Guldberg, and declared her willingness to accept the proposal made to her. The party of the queen dowager was thus organized. Valet Jessen conveyed the good news to Copenhagen, and there performed from time to time the part of negociator between the conspirators at Fredensborg and those in the capital. In order to avoid notice, he made his reports in writing, and addressed his letters sometimes to his mother-in-law, the waiting-woman, Jacobi, at others to his little daughter, Juliana Maria Jessen, who was afterwards a celebrated poetess, and at that time was living with her grandmother.
When the queen dowager returned to Copenhagen in November, the secret meetings of her party were held at the house of Abildgaard, chaplain of the Holmenschurch, close to the palace, whose wife was a relation of Beringskjold. The rectory had two entrances, from two different streets, and Jessen, who was thoroughly acquainted with the ins and outs of the Christiansborg Palace, offered the conspirators the most valuable aid at these secret meetings. He was also thoroughly conversant with the private staircases that led in the palace from the queen's apartments to those of the king and Struensee, so that it was eventually an easy matter for the conspirators to cut off all communication between the three parties most interested, at the moment when they carried out their enterprise.
The outbreak of the conspiracy was settled for the night between January 16 and 17, 1772. On Thursday, the 16th, a bal paré en domino was given in the palace theatre at Christiansborg, to which all nine rank-classes were admitted.
The French Opera House, as the theatre royal was called, was most gorgeously decorated. Innumerable chandeliers and lamps displayed the rich gilding of the boxes, with their hangings of violet and silk. The pit, appropriated on other occasions to the spectators, was raised to a level with the stage, so that the whole formed one large hall; while a numerous orchestra occupied the sides of the stage, which represented a grove. In the background, a large bower, dimly lighted with variegated lamps, led to some small lateral cabinets, hung with red damask, the rich decorations of which—splendid mirrors, sparkling chandeliers, and gilt sofas—plainly showed that they were destined for royal personages. A semicircular saloon at the back of all closed the grand perspective, which was doubled by the mirrors against the walls, for it was the dressing-room of the theatre. A series of spacious and splendid saloons occupied the rest of the wing.
In the boxes, card-tables were arranged; the king played at quadrille with General von Gähler, Frau von Gähler, and Justiz-rath Struensee. The young queen, however, seemed to be remarkably cheerful on this evening; danced continually; and looked very beautiful. A circumstance occurred which ought to have attracted attention. The king, queen, and court entered the ball-room at ten o'clock; but Prince Frederick, contrary to his usual custom, and, in some measure, contrary to the respect due from him to their Majesties, did not arrive till more than an hour later. His countenance was flushed, and his disordered looks revealed the agitation of his mind. As soon as he came, the queen advanced to him, and said playfully:
"Vous venez d'arriver bien tard, mon frère, qu'avez vous?"
"C'est que j'ai eu des affaires, madame," he replied.
"Il me semble," the queen remarked, gaily, "que vous auriez mieux fait de penser à vos plaisirs qu'à vos affaires, pendant une soirée de bal."
The prince made little or no reply, and the conversation ended.
Köller was even more impudent. While playing at cards, Struensee went up to him and said: "Are you not going to dance?" To which Köller made answer: "No, I shall play a little longer; but my hour to dance will arrive presently."[38]
Courtiers and officials were still longing to read a kindly glance on the face of the omnipotent minister and even the pious hypocrite, Guldberg, was present, for the first time in his life, at such an entertainment. Of the foreign envoys, Colonel Keith was the only one present. The king and queen and their nearest intimates supped together in a box, while Prince Frederick was left to get his supper at a buffet like the meanest of the guests. Curiously enough, Reverdil had interceded for the prince on the previous day, and begged Brandt to admit him to the king's table, but it was refused. Reverdil was much affected, for he was ignorant that the measure was full, and that one act of insolence more or less was of no consequence.
The king retired at midnight; but the queen continued dancing till nearly three o'clock. The company soon followed; and the two last persons who remained in the ball-room were Brandt and the Countess von Holstein, his mistress. They were engaged in conversation, when Le Texier, the master of the revels, went up to Brandt, and said:
"Every one is gone, and I must order the lights to be put out."
"I will give directions to that effect," Count Brandt replied; "leave it to me."
A singular fatality seems to have attended the queen and her friends. In order to seize so large a body of men, many of whom it was unquestionable would resist if they were not taken by surprise and separately, it was necessary to attack them singly and alone. The Countess von Holstein had invited a select party of ladies and gentlemen, among whom were Struensee and Brandt, to drink tea in her apartments after the conclusion of the ball. If this party had taken place, it would have frustrated the plans of the queen dowager and her son. They would, probably, have considered it too dangerous to attack several of the first men in Denmark, collected together in one room, who were capable of resistance, and might either have escaped or defended themselves successfully. In such an attempt, the royal palace, where the principal among them were lodged, must have been rendered a scene of blood and horror. But one of the ladies who was invited, Frau von Schimmelmann, having a violent headache, excused herself; Frau von Bülow, unwilling to go without her friend, made her excuses likewise; and the Countess von Holstein, being the only female remaining of the party, it was abandoned.
In the meanwhile, the preparations for carrying out the plan of the conspirators were being made very silently. The grenadier company of Colonel Köller's Holstein regiment had the guard, on this day, at the palace, together with a troop of the Seeland dragoons, commanded by Von Eickstedt. The military charge of the palace was, consequently, confided to two of the accomplices. At nine in the evening, Colonel Eickstedt entered the stables of the corps de garde, and inquired of the stable-sentry whether Lieutenant Schlemann, the officer of the day, was in his room.
"Yes," the dragoon answered; "does your excellency wish me to call him?"
"No," the colonel said at first, so as not to betray the fact that he had solely come to speak to this officer. But after pretending to remember something, he turned again to the sentry, with the remark:
"By the way, you can tell the lieutenant that I am here."
Soon after, the lieutenant came down into the stable from the officers' guard-room.
"I see," the colonel addressed him, "that all your horses are saddled. Have you received orders to that effect?"
"No, I did it on my own responsibility," the lieutenant replied. "I was afraid lest the mob might employ this evening in making unpleasant riots, and hence I wished to be in readiness to move at once. Still, if you command it, I will give the order to unsaddle."
As Eickstedt naturally did not desire this, but was quite satisfied with the lieutenant's precaution, he ordered the latter to keep all the horses saddled throughout the night. After the lieutenant had accompanied his commanding officer to the gates, he was about to retire, but Eickstedt gave him a nod, and whispered to him to come to his apartments precisely at half-past three in the morning; he would then find the door open, but must not pass Colonel Falckenskjold's quarters, or drop a word to a single being of what he (Eickstedt) had just intimated to him.
The entire plot, however, all but failed owing to Rantzau's vacillation. This man, upon whose courage, fidelity, and secrecy no reliance could be placed, determined not only to withdraw his assistance from the party in which he had enlisted, but to reveal the whole conspiracy. At eight o'clock on the evening before the ball, he drove to the house of Justiz-rath Struensee. When he was told here that the Justiz-rath had not yet returned from a dinner party, he urged the servant to inform his master directly he returned home that Count Rantzau desired a visit from him as soon as possible. The count had hardly driven away, when the Justiz-rath arrived, and the servant delivered the message.
"The count is always in such a hurry about trifles," the minister's brother answered, "that the visit will safely keep till to-morrow morning."
He therefore deferred the visit, and dressed himself for the masquerade ball.
An apparently so insignificant occurrence decided the happiness and existence of numerous persons and the fate of the whole monarchy for twelve long years!
Rantzau went home, and sent to tell Colonel Köller that an attack of gout prevented him from keeping his appointment as agreed. In order to support the deception, he even had his feet wrapped up in flannel. The count resided in a royal mansion called the Palace, separated from Christiansborg by a ditch. The conspirators were in a state of great alarm, and sent off Beringskjold to the count. When Rantzau appealed to the state of his feet, the envoy suggested a sedan-chair, and on the count still persisting, he delivered the ultimatum from Köller that he would have him fetched by grenadiers if he did not come. This threat was effectual, and Rantzau appeared at the meeting-place, being conveyed to it by two grenadiers of the guard in a chair.
The ball was over at about half-past two, and profound silence prevailed in the palace. The conspirators alone did not sleep.
The two commandants, Eickstedt and Köller, took care that the garrison and palace guards should be held in readiness for any event. When Lieutenant Schlemann kept his appointment with Colonel von Eickstedt, he found there Von Rönpstorff, the major of the regiment, who had several lieutenants awakened. When these officers arrived, Eickstedt lighted a candle, placed it under the table, and read to the meeting by this mystic illumination an order signed by the queen dowager and the hereditary prince.
This usurped order from persons who, in spite of their royal position, had not the slightest right to command the garrison troops, was to the effect that the king, having been hitherto surrounded by several bad people, the two exalted signers of the secret order commanded Colonels von Köller and Von Eickstedt to seize on the same night the Counts Struensee and Brandt, and several other persons named, and also to place the commandant, Major-General von Gude, under arrest. In this way the two chief actors secured the perfect fidelity of all the persons connected with them. After Eickstedt had read this precious document, which was drawn up by Guldberg, he warned the officers to be on the watch, and promised them to be himself at the spot where the greater danger was. He ordered the officer of the dragoon picket to have the horses bitted in the greatest secrecy, to advance at half-past three in the morning, to occupy all the entrances, and to allow no one to go in or out. He must try at first to keep them back politely, but if kindness did not avail, he must employ violence, if necessary, in effecting this.
About the same hour, Colonel Köller went the rounds of the city guards, and took the officers of the day with him to the captain's guard-room at the palace. Here he stated to them that he had received orders to arrest Counts Struensee and Brandt and several others, and that he felt assured of having their aid in doing so, if he required it; after which the officers returned to their posts.
Everything was perfectly quiet in the palace, when, at four o'clock A.M., the hereditary prince, Guldberg, Rantzau, Eickstedt, Köller, and the ex-valet Jessen, assembled in the rooms of the queen dowager. After Guldberg had shortly repeated here all they had arranged, and offered up a prayer, the conspirators, guided by Jessen, went along dark passages to the king's apartments, forced their way into the bedroom of the valet Brieghil, aroused him, and induced him to follow them. As they found the right entrance to the king's sleeping apartment locked, they were obliged to go round by the secret staircase. Brieghil went in front, and behind him came Guldberg, carrying a candle in each hand.
When Juliana Maria, surrounded by her companions, approached the king's bed, the latter woke, sprang up with a start of terror, and asked, timidly, on seeing so many persons assembled in his bedroom in the middle of the night, what they wanted with him? The queen dowager replied:
"My son, your Majesty, do not be frightened. You do not see us here as enemies, but as your true friends; and we have come——"
Here she began to shed abundant tears. Rantzau had agreed to be spokesman, but now held back, and Köller was obliged to thrust him forward. Thus forced, he at length said to the king that his Majesty's mother and brother had come to liberate him and the country.
After this, the stepmother went up to the bed, embraced the king, and repeated what Rantzau had just said. Almost fainting from terror, the poor weak king asked for a glass of water, and when he had drunk it, merely remarked that Rantzau had told him Eickstedt was there too. The latter stepped forward and confirmed Rantzau's statement, with the addition that the people were in a state of revolt, for a design was being carried on against his Majesty and his government, in which Struensee and the queen were the leaders.
When Christian heard the name of Matilda, he refused to place any credence in the affair, but Juliana Maria assured him of the truth, and Guldberg confirmed it. Rantzau then pulled out of his pocket the orders already drawn up, and laid them before the king to sign, upon which Christian exclaimed:
"My God! this will cost streams of blood!" Rantzau answered:
"Your Majesty may be of good cheer; with the help of the Almighty, I take everything upon myself, and will, as far as possible, prevent danger."
Pen and ink were produced, and the weak king was induced to sign two orders, whose contents his stepmother explained to him. By the first, Eickstedt was made a major-general and commandant of the city; by the second, Eickstedt and Köller received full powers to take all the measures necessary for the preservation of the king and the country.
After the king had signed these documents while still in bed, and the hereditary prince countersigned them, the former expressed a wish to get up. When he was dressed, the queen dowager, her son, and Guldberg led the king to the prince's apartments. Here he remained for some hours, and they were employed in inducing him to write a note to his consort, from Juliana Maria's dictation, which contained the following absurd words:—
"Comme vous n'avez pas voulu suivre les bons conseils, ce n'est pas ma faute, si je me trouve obligé de vous faire conduire à Kronenbourg."
After this, the king signed fifteen different orders, drawn up by Guldberg, which decided the fate of no less than seventeen persons. These were in turn: Count Struensee, Count Brandt, Professor Struensee, Lieutenant Struensee, Chamberlain Colonel von Falckenskjold, Lieutenant-General von Gähler, Frau von Gähler, Major-General Gude, Lieutenant-Colonel von Hesselberg, Equerry Baron von Bülow, Rear-Admiral Hansen, Etats-rath Willebrand, Lieutenant Abö, Cabinet Secretary von Zoëga, the Intendant Martini, and Panning, Count Struensee's private secretary. When this was completed, the king, animated by the sweet thought of doing injury, by the flattering idea of being delivered from Brandt for ever, and by the remote hope of shedding blood, spent the rest of the morning in drawing up the requisite orders. Those which concerned the queen, such as the order to Rantzau to arrest her, another to the commandant of Kronborg, where she was to be taken, and the order to the intendant of the court to provide the carriages, the king copied himself from Guldberg's minutes the others he merely signed.[39]
While all this was going on in the royal apartments, Eickstedt placed himself at the head of a troop of dragoons in order to inform all officers on duty of his new dignity, strengthened the palace guard with forty gunners, and then had all the gates of the fortress closed.[40]
CHAPTER V.
SHARING THE SPOIL.
ARREST OF STRUENSEE AND BRANDT—FALCKENSKJOLD'S PRISON—A LADY'S PERILS—CAROLINE MATILDA—A TERRIBLE SCENE—OSTEN'S PERSUASION—ARRIVAL AT KRONBORG—THE QUEEN'S DESPAIR—THE KING IN PUBLIC—POPULAR EXCESSES—REWARDS—GENERAL VON HUTH.
Immediately after the signature of the orders, Köller delightedly offered his services in the odious task of arresting Count Struensee. Followed by Captain Malleville, Lieutenants von Eyben and Frank, and a number of soldiers, he proceeded to the rooms occupied by the favourite on the Mezzanine. Before he entered the bedroom, he made the captain promise to kill Struensee in the event of himself (Köller) being shot. But this precaution proved to be quite unnecessary.
On seeing the intruder, and hearing that he had orders to arrest him, Struensee asked him if he knew to whom he was speaking, and to whom he was intimating this command. The colonel replied:
"Yes; I know very well who you are. You are a count and a cabinet minister; but now you are my prisoner."
Struensee requested to see the royal warrant, but as Köller did not possess this, he said:
"I cannot show you any written order; but I am answerable with my head that the order to arrest you was given me by the king."
Still, the count refused to surrender; so Köller placed his sword-point against his chest, and said very seriously: "I have orders to take you either dead or alive." Struensee sank back, fainting, on a sofa. When he recovered, he asked for a cup of chocolate, which was refused him. The colonel advised him to make haste and get out of the palace before daybreak, as otherwise he could not protect him against the infuriated populace.
Moved by these arguments, Struensee proceeded to dress himself, and was so unprepared for the event, that he only had the masquerade dress which he had so recently taken off. He was obliged, therefore, to put on the pink domino breeches, but was allowed to take his furs, as the weather was bitterly cold. Bound hand and foot, the late omnipotent minister was dragged to a coach, and conveyed, under a powerful escort, to the citadel. As he got into the coach, he groaned, "Great God, what crime have I committed?" When he got out of the coach again, he requested that a trifle might be given the driver, and Köller handed the latter a dollar. The driver expressed his thanks, but said, in good Danish, "I would have done it for nothing."
Struensee was then conducted to the commandant of the citadel, in whose presence he cursed terribly, till he was ordered to be silent. He was taken by the commandant's orders to the cell in which a notorious pirate of the name of Norcross had been confined for a long time. On entering it, he opened his eyes very wide, and said to the officer, "Where are my valets?" The answer was, "I did not see any of your valets following you." "But my secretary?"—"He is not here either." "I must have my furs; confound it, it is cold here, and I have no wish to be frozen to death." On seeing a wretched wooden chair, he exclaimed, "What is the meaning of this chair? bring me my sofa." The officer replied, with a frosty look, "There is nothing at your service here, sir, but a night commode." On receiving this answer the prisoner burst into an awful rage, and ran with his head against the wall to dash out his brains; but the watch prevented his design. On the commandant being informed of this, he ordered Struensee to be laid in chains, which hurt him more than all the other treatment, and he passionately cried, "I am treated en canaille."[41]
The simultaneous arrest of Count Brandt was confided to a turncoat and now zealous accomplice of the conspirators, Colonel von Sames, ex-commandant of Copenhagen. Formerly an admirer of Struensee, he had joined the minister's enemies after his own enforced retirement to make way for Major-General von Gude, and was now anxious to regain the favour of the new government. Accompanied by a guard, he crept to Brandt's apartments, but found the door locked. On Sames threatening to burst it open with the butt-ends of muskets unless it were opened to allow him to execute a royal order, Brandt at length turned the key, but met the intruders with his drawn sword. When the guard, however, made preparations to disarm him, he threw his sword away, remarking:
"This must be a mistake. I am a minister of state, and have committed no crime for which I can be arrested."
The officer observed that it was no error, and begged him to yield. He did so, with the words: "Eh bien, monsieur, je vous suivrai tranquillement."
He was also conveyed to the citadel in a coach; and on entering the quarters of the commandant, said to him:
"Do not be angry, sir, at my disturbing you at so early an hour."
"Not at all, sir," the commandant replied; "we have been expecting you here for a long time."
After this, Count Brandt walked up and down the room several times; looked about him; hummed an Italian air; and at length said:
"On my soul, there are fine apartments in this castle;" to which the commandant replied, with very bloodthirsty humour:
"Yes, sir; but you will have an opportunity of seeing finer ones."
A few minutes after, Brandt's cell was shown him. It was very dark; and, on entering it, he said good-humouredly to his companions: "On my word, the commandant spoke the truth." Even though chained like Struensee, Brandt retained his firmness; amused himself with playing the flute; and generally showed a much sturdier character than the wretched Struensee.
After the new city commandant, Von Eickstedt, had provided for the safety of the king, and given his commands at the main guard, he rode, accompanied by Colonel von Arnsdorff and a lieutenant, at five o'clock in the morning, to the new barracks, for the purpose of arresting Colonel von Falckenskjold and his friend, Lieutenant-Colonel von Hesselberg, who were quartered there. After entering the colonel's room, Eickstedt awoke him, and expressed his regret at being forced to arrest a brother officer; then he read aloud his own appointment as commandant, and the warrant, and handed Falckenskjold the papers for his inspection. The prisoner carefully examined the order, and the king and prince's signatures, and believed he had discovered that both the order and the signatures were in Eickstedt's own handwriting.[42] Still, we can hardly think that the conspirators would have ventured upon such audacity; but it may be fairly assumed that the signature of the king, who was frightened to death, was as illegible as that of the counter-signer with the uneasy conscience. After Eickstedt had expressed some alarm about the temper of the regiment, with which their colonel was a great favourite, and Falckenskjold had calmed him, he quitted the colonel, leaving a lieutenant and a sergeant to guard him.
On January 21, at eleven o'clock at night, a major and eight or ten subalterns rushed into Falckenskjold's bedroom, made him get up, and transferred him to the navy prison, intended for the vilest criminals. The cell was reached by a narrow flight of stairs, and the interior was not more than ten feet square. An officer constantly remained with the prisoner, who was compelled to sleep on the boards. As he was not allowed any knives, he was obliged to tear his food with his fingers. At first, he was allowed to keep his tooth-powder and some tea; but shortly after, he was deprived of them, as they might be poisoned.
Eight days after, Falckenskjold was transferred to a large room, which it was impossible to warm, and stopped here for weeks, till he was brought before the commission of investigation, and his unhappy fate eventually decided.
While Eickstedt was carrying out his task, Major von Rönpstorff rode to the deposed town commandant in order to put him under arrest, and take away the keys of the fortress, which were delivered to the first bürgermeister, Matthiesen, as the victorious party placed no confidence in the chief president, Von Holstein. From this house, the major went to Justiz-rath Struensee, whom he also arrested, and conveyed to the citadel. At the same time, Professor Berger was also arrested by Lieutenant von Eyben. The remainder were placed under house arrest, and had sentries posted over them, with the exception of Von Bülow, whose word of honour not to leave the house was considered sufficient.
Colonel von Köller undertook the task of arresting Lieutenant-General Gähler and his wife. The latter jumped out of bed in her night-dress, and tried to escape by the back-stairs; but she found them invested by two dragoons, and she was removed, with her husband, to the citadel. Councillor of Legation Sturtz also stood on the lists of proscription, as a partisan of Struensee, but was not arrested till some time later, when he fancied himself too secure. The domestics of Counts Struensee and Brandt were put into the Blue Tower, which was usually employed as a debtors' prison.
It was half-past eight o'clock A.M., when all these imprisonments had been carried out. But the most revolting scene in this palace revolution had been going on, in the meanwhile, at the Christiansborg.
Supplied with the note in the king's handwriting, and backed up by three lieutenants, Beck, Oldenborg, and Bay, Count zu Rantzau-Ascheberg proceeded to the apartments of the reigning queen, Caroline Matilda, entered the ante-chamber, and tried to get into the bedroom, but found the door locked. The queen was aroused by the disturbance, and summoned her women. They hurried to her; and the queen saw fear and terror in their faces.
"What is the matter?" she asked; but the women were silent. She repeated the question, and received the reply that Rantzau was in the ante-room with several officers, and was asking admission in the king's name. The queen sprang out of bed in alarm, and threw on a few articles of clothing.
"Make haste and summon Struensee, he must come directly," she ordered her women; but they replied that the count had already been removed.
"Betrayed! lost! eternally lost!" the queen exclaimed, with an outburst of despair. "Well," she continued, after a little reflection, "let them come in, the traitors, I am prepared for everything."
When the doors were opened by the women, the queen walked boldly toward the persons entering, and asked them what they wanted. Moved by the young queen's decided behaviour, Rantzau gave her a low bow, then said that he had come by the king's order, read her her consort's note, and handed it to her. She took it, and read it through without displaying any alarm; but then threw it disdainfully on the ground, and trampled upon it.
"Ha!" she said, "in that I recognise the traitors and the king."
Rantzau implored her to submit to the king's orders.
"Orders!" she exclaimed, contemptuously; "orders about which he knows nothing, and which the most shameful treachery has extorted from his imbecility. No, a queen does not obey such commands."
Rantzau looked serious, and said that his duty admitted of no delay.
"I will obey no orders till I have seen the king," the queen answered him; "let me go to him: I must—I will speak to him."
And she advanced some steps toward the door: but Rantzau stepped before her with heightened anger, and his entreaties became menaces.
"Villain!" the impassioned queen cried to him, "is that the language of a servant to his monarch? Go, most contemptible of men. Go, you are loaded with shame and disgrace, but I am not afraid of you."
These words from the dauntless young queen infuriated the haughty Rantzau, but he did not dare to carry out his ruffianly orders by seizing the brave princess: hence he gave his comrades an imperious glance to interfere. The boldest of the three advanced and seized the queen round the waist, but she tore herself away from him, shrieked for assistance as loudly as she could, and hastened along the passage to the secret stairs; but her women held her back, and said:
"Your Majesty cannot pass out, for all the doors are guarded by sentries, and no one will listen to your cry for help."
Left alone with four armed soldiers, and rendered desperate by anger and shame, the unfortunate princess rushed to a window, tore it open, and was about to hurl herself out, but an officer seized her round the waist and held her back by force. Beside herself with passion, she seized the impudent man by the hair, and struggled with him alone, when another of the officers had to assist his comrade against a defenceless woman. She resisted him as well, and, though half naked, continued the struggle with the courage of despair, till she at length fell back in a fainting state. Rantzau watched this scene with great gusto, and when the women brought their mistress round again, he ordered them to conduct her into an adjoining room, and dress her, while he sent for Count von der Osten, who might induce her to yield.
Although this practised diplomatist was acquainted with all the facts of the conspiracy, he had refrained from taking any active part in it. Now, however, that he knew Struensee and Brandt were safe in the citadel, he accepted Rantzau's invitation the more willingly, because he at once saw that the revolution could only be carried through by the queen's overthrow. By his quiet and sensible representations he at length succeeded in persuading the now weeping queen to yield compliance.
"Je n'ai rien fait: le roi sera juste," she said quietly, in the consciousness of her innocence; but then she became more impetuous, and declared to the count that she would not move a step from the spot unless she were allowed to take her children with her. The diplomatist, however, succeeded in making her comprehend that the prince royal must not be removed, and the poor mother at length agreed that she would only take with her the little princess, whom she was herself suckling.[43]
At length the preparations for departure were completed, and Fräulein von Mösting, one of the ladies-in-waiting, came in to accompany the queen. Rantzau and two officers followed their prisoner to the coaches held in readiness for her in the back yard of the palace. On the stairs, Rantzau offered her his hand to conduct her down, but she repulsed it with disgust, and exclaimed: "Loin avec vous, traître! Je vous déteste!" She then walked alone to the carriage, and entered it. Fräulein von Mösting seated herself by her side, and a bed-chamber woman opposite to her, but the fourth seat was occupied by Major von Carstenskjold,[44] of Eickstedt's dragoons, with his drawn sabre. In the second coach followed the nurse with the little Princess Louisa Augusta, and two of the queen's attendants. The carriages were guarded by thirty dragoons, and Queen Caroline Matilda bade an eternal farewell to her capital and her palace.
During the tedious journey to the fortress, the queen remained in profound sorrow, and did not utter a word: but when the coach drove through the gloomy archway into the yard of the fortress of Kronborg, she started up, and said in a lamentable voice: "Great God! it is all over with me. The king has deserted me!"
When she left the carriage and attempted to ascend the stairs, the unhappy queen's strength failed her, and she was carried up to a sleeping apartment, in order to be laid on a bed. On seeing the couch, however, she shrieked: "Away! away from here! There is no rest for the miserable, no rest for me any more!"
She was seated in an easy-chair; heavy sighs burst from her oppressed bosom; her whole body seemed bowed down by the weight of sorrow, till at length she found tears to relieve her.
"Thanks, Heaven, thanks!" she fervently exclaimed; "that consolation comes from Thee, and it is the only one of which my enemies cannot rob me."
She heard her daughter's voice and flew to her.
"You, too, here! dear, innocent creature! Oh, in that case your poor mother is not utterly wretched."
And the queen clasped the child to her breast, and then seated it in her lap. Two days elapsed ere the unfortunate queen could be induced to take any food, and lie down on a bed; then, she gradually regained her calmness, and accepted her fate more patiently.
It seemed as if the victorious queen dowager studied every occasion by which she could humiliate her victim. Caroline Matilda was not even allowed to have the necessary clothes to appear with decency, and to prepare herself against the severity of the weather; she was conveyed to Kronborg not like a state prisoner, but with all the marks of contempt shown to the worst offenders. A queen, whose personal charms would have melted the heart of a ruffian, was scarcely allowed in this inhospitable fortress what is requisite to support nature, and not indulged with more conveniences in her apartments than those granted to the lowest criminals. She was treated, during the earlier part of her captivity, with great indignity by her unfeeling keepers and an insolent soldiery, and confined in rooms which would have hardly been allotted to her favourite dogs in the days of her prosperity.[45]
After the queen dowager had been informed by Von der Osten of the successful removal of Caroline Matilda, the conspirators at once set to work completing the affair they had begun. In the first place, it was considered necessary to make the king go through a scene, which would convince him that everything that had been as yet effected, met with the approval of the multitude.
The constant driving, and the galloping of dragoons through the streets at an early hour, aroused attention and apprehension among the townspeople: for the conspirators had taken care that in the last days the most dangerous rumours of attempts on the king's life should be propagated. At length, the terrible events of the last hours oozed out. The town captain, Treld, appeared in the streets, and when he was asked what was to be done, he answered: "What else, but shout huzzah that everything has succeeded!" The mob now burst into an universal shout of "Long live King Christian VII.;" and several voices were heard applauding the queen dowager and Prince Frederick. After this, the masses flocked to the palace, and at 10 A.M. the king, followed by his brother, stepped out on the balcony, while the old queen showed herself at the window in négligée. The king waved his pocket-handkerchief, and when the populace responded to this salute by a deafening shout, he joined in, and hurrahed to his dear people, who were offering him such enthusiastic thanks for the heroic deed he had just carried out.
A few hours later, the king, splendidly dressed, and accompanied by his brother, entered a state-coach drawn by eight white horses, and drove through the city, to show himself to his people. The throng was so great, that the carriage could hardly pass, and many, in their delight, proposed to take out the horses and drag the king themselves. They drove slowly through all the principal streets: Prince Frederick had let down the window on his side, seemed greatly delighted, and bowed incessantly to the surging crowd, and the windows crowded with ladies and gentlemen. The king, however, as usual, kept his window up, and stared indifferently at the crowd: loud shouts of joy were raised in all the houses which the royal procession passed. The ladies expressed their delight by waving their handkerchiefs; some of them even pulled off their caps and shook them in the air, in order to testify their enthusiasm at the incomparable felicity of seeing their beloved sovereign, who had escaped from the mighty peril with which he had been menaced by Struensee and Queen Caroline Matilda.
When the drive was over, and the king and prince returned to the Christiansborg, the whole victorious party had assembled at court, to offer their congratulations to the three royal personages on the successful overthrow of the "Cabal," as they deigned to christen the defeated party. But the king only made his appearance in company for a moment.
After dinner the king, the old queen and the prince, went to the French play, where they all sat in the royal box, and were received with universal rejoicings when they entered. The whole city was illuminated, the townspeople nearly all turned out in their Sunday clothes, salvoes were fired from the ramparts, rockets were discharged, and the whole population seemed drunk with joy.
But the people, once unchained, were not satisfied with mere rejoicings, and hence soon turned the seamy side of their character outwards. The public regarded Esther Gabel, one of the queen's waiting-women, as Struensee's mistress. This girl's father had purchased Count Schulin's house, situated in one of the most frequented streets, and by the cabinet minister's orders, and partly at his expense, it was said, had converted it into a public establishment for balls, concerts, and assemblies, with a splendour hitherto unknown in Denmark. Struensee's enemies, however, spread a report that the minister had engaged fifteen pretty English girls to wait on the guests, and the portraits of these girls were hung up to attract the visitors. Toward evening, when the streets were crowded, a man, wearing a gold-laced hat, stopped in front of this house, drew his sword, and shouted to the people as he smashed the lamps: "This house, the English b——, is given up." Scarce had this man—it was Beringskjold—given these instructions, when the mob rushed into the house, destroyed or carried off all the furniture and valuables in it, and smashed every pane of glass. In the upper floor of the large building there still remained a portion of Count Schulin's library, which was afterwards valued at 8,000 dollars, and this now perished, or was stolen. In the cellar was a large stock of spirits; the furious mob naturally forced their way into it, drank what they pleased, and then staved all the wine and rum casks, so that they waded up to the ankles in liquor, and afterwards it took a day and a half to pump the cellar dry.
After these desperadoes had finished their barbarous job, and had done damage to the amount of 40,000 species dollars, though without finding the fifteen English beauties, they attacked the "Jungfern Comptoire," which were scattered over the city, and employed for improper purposes: in a few hours only the bare walls remained of these houses, which were sixty in number. The unfortunate girls found in them were dragged into the streets by the hair or legs, and treated with the most cruel brutality.[46]
In order to check the mischief, the head of the police at once asked Eickstedt for dragoons to drive out the ruffians. But the court were of a different opinion. They were afraid that the interference of the military might entail loss of life, and they did not wish to overcloud so glorious a day as January 17 had been. Therefore, instead of the dragoons, a Herr von Bülow, page of Prince Frederick, was sent to the mob, with instructions to offer them the king's thanks for the devotion displayed toward his house upon the abolition of Struensee's despotism, and to promise that the king would henceforth reign to the general satisfaction, and especially remember the sailors. The king, however, ordered that every one should now go quietly home. But the envoy had scarce ended the first part of his address to the people, when Beringskjold shouted in a stentorian voice: "There, you hear, the king thanks you for destroying this —— house. So to work again!"
An attempt of the mob to get hold of Struensee's state-coach, which was valued at 6,000 dollars, was prevented by the palace guard. The intention of destroying the house of the chief of the police was also foiled. They had set to work about it, when a respected dockyard official forced his way into the mob and induced them to desist, by making himself responsible for this man's right sentiments. It was not till the crowd made preparations to plunder the Mont de Piété that Eickstedt's dragoons dispersed them. On the next day, patrols of the line, the bürger guard and the marines, paraded the streets, in order to prevent further excesses; and in the afternoon royal heralds rode about the city, announcing that the king thanked his people for the fidelity they had displayed, but had learned, to his displeasure, that their zeal had gone too far. Hence he forbad any further excesses, and any one caught in the act might expect exemplary punishment. With this the plundering certainly ceased, but the patrolling had to be continued for a whole week, before persons and property could again enjoy perfect security. On January 23 a police order was issued that all those persons who held stolen property by purchase, or in any other way, must, under penalty of heavy fines, deliver the articles to the police officers, so that they might be returned to their rightful owners.
In the meanwhile the principal participators in the conspiracy had received their reward. Count von Rantzau-Ascheberg was requited for the brutality he had displayed toward Caroline Matilda, by his nomination as General-in-Chief of the Infantry and Knight of the Elephant. At the same time he was told that the government undertook to pay his debts.
Major-General von Eickstedt and his Pomeranian landsman, Von Köller, were promoted lieutenant-generals, and decorated with the star of the Dannebrog. Köller was also offered naturalization, with the name of an extinct illustrious noble family. He replied that, being a Pomeranian gentleman, he esteemed his own name as much as any other; but that, as he intended to devote his life to Denmark, he consented to adopt a name belonging to that country. He was, therefore, known henceforth as Köller-Banner. He was also created first aide-de-camp, with apartments in the palace, and inspector of the king's chamber.[47]
Commissary-General von Beringskjold, who, in addition to his other services, had given the signal for plundering, was rewarded with a chamberlain's key, received a pension of 2,000 dollars, and was let off a sum of nearly 40,000 species dollars, which he had been unable to pay for the crown estate he had purchased in the island of Moën. Of his two sons, the elder was appointed page, with a salary of 1,000 dollars, while the younger was promised a captaincy in the army.
All the officers of Eickstedt's and Köller's regiments, even Captain von Falckenskjold, the colonel's brother, although he had been asleep during the arrest, gained one or two steps. Jessen, the ex-valet, who had played the go-between, received a gratification of 2,000 dollars, and was honoured shortly after by the title of councillor of justice. Major von Carstenskjold, who with his drawn sabre had prevented any possible attempt at flight on the part of Caroline Matilda, from a coach surrounded by thirty dragoons, was made a lieutenant-colonel for his gallant conduct. Colonel von Sames, as he was overhead and ears in debt, received, as a reward for his altered sentiments, 10,000 dollars in cash. Lastly, Major von Rönpstorff, of the prince royal's regiment, was given his lieutenant-colonelcy for commanding the escort required for the arrests.
It is not quite clear why at the same time the well-known artillery-general, Von Huth, was appointed a general of infantry. When, at the time of the Russian war, General St. Germain was summoned to Denmark as commander-in-chief of the army, he effected the retirement of Huth, because he was afraid of so scientific a rival. Huth, consequently, retired with a pension of 2,000 dollars, and went home to Hesse. Under Struensee's government St. Germain had been recalled, but no satisfactory arrangement was made: the French general returned to Paris, and was there appointed minister of war. Immediately after, General von Huth was recalled to active service by the advice of the Landgrave Charles, with whom he was on very intimate terms; but he kept aloof from Struensee.
Guldberg, the chief councillor of the conspirators, was the only man who received no reward. But as this ostensible modesty was certainly purposed, it serves to throw light on the man who from this time governed Denmark for twelve years. He was certain of his influence, and consequently was in no hurry about personal distinctions. His clear understanding also told him, that an apparent disinterestedness would be of great advantage to him with the public.
CHAPTER VI.
THE NEW GOVERNMENT.
THE TE DEUM—A WARNING VOICE—HITTING A FALLEN MAN—A GOOD HATER—COURT FESTIVITIES—THE ALARM AT THE THEATRE—BANISHMENT OF BERINGSKJOLD—RETIREMENT OF REVERDIL—THE TWO COUNTS—STRUENSEE'S DESPAIR—ATTEMPTED SUICIDE—THE COMMISSION—THE CABINET COUNCIL—THE PRIVY COUNCIL OF STATE.
The next care of the new government was the amusement of the weak-minded king, who was now a helpless tool in all matters connected with the administration. Juliana Maria proposed to him, in turn, various persons to take Brandt's place; but he continually answered "No" to all the names mentioned, until the queen dowager at last came to Von der Osten, the minister of foreign affairs. At this name the king exclaimed with pleasure, "Yes: I will have him." As this gentleman, however, did not feel at all disposed to exchange his pleasant post for the dignity of a companion to a half-childish monarch, but preferred the comforts of his own palace, Lieut.-General von Köller, Queen Juliana Maria's declared favourite, was appointed to the office. We do not know how the poor king liked this coarse soldier in the place of the polished Brandt, so intimate as he was with all the details of court life.
In order to acquire the best men of business for the new government, one of the nocturnal accomplices, Major Malleville, was sent to Privy Councillor Count Thott to invite him to take part once more in the business of the state, and a similar invitation was forwarded to Privy Councillor Schack-Rathlau and the Stifts-amtmann Scheel, who had both been removed by Struensee. The ex-premier, Count John Hartwig von Bernstorff, was also thought of: Carstens and Schumacher spoke in his favour, but Von der Osten and Rantzau were opposed to it, because both hated him. The matter was disposed of, however, by the two royal personages, who did not particularly like the count, and by Guldberg, who feared a dangerous rival in the practised statesman. Hence, neither Bernstorff nor Moltke was recalled; although among all the remaining candidates for office there was not one who possessed Bernstorff's experience in affairs of state. Conferenz-rath Shumacher was also reappointed private secretary to the king, while retaining his post as deputy in the Chancery.
On January 19, the first Sunday after Struensee's downfall, thanks were offered to Heaven from all the pulpits in Copenhagen and the vicinity for what had happened; and, of course, the sermons were filled with all kinds of allusions to the overthrown godless government. On the following Sunday, the third after Epiphany, there was, in obedience to a royal circular, a general Te Deum in the churches of the capital, and this afforded another excellent opportunity for again insulting the fallen. Instead of offering up a prayer of love and charity for the sinner, the clergymen only spoke of the "fearful vengeance of the Lord upon the godless people, as a cause for rejoicing and thanks-giving." Nor did they even spare her Majesty, who was still reigning, but poured out the vials of their wrath upon her, and were not ashamed to urge their congregations "to hate and execrate the queen."
How great the bitterness of the clergy at the freedom of religion granted in the hitherto strictly Lutheran country by Struensee must have been, is proved more clearly by the fact, that even the celebrated theologian and converter, Dr. Münter, joined in their cry. "Godless men ruled over us," he said from the pulpit of the palace chapel, "and openly defied God. They, to whom nothing was sacred, either in heaven or on earth, despised, ridiculed, and mocked the creed to which we belong. They, doubtless, were meditating violent measures, in order to secure themselves for ever. But thanks be to God, that He did not yield us up as a prey to their teeth: that He overthrew their faithless and blood-thirsty schemes (for they could not have been otherwise), and gave us tranquillity and peace again, at the moment when murder and rebellion were close at hand. Our king, to whom access was entirely precluded; for whose sacred person we often felt anxious, because we knew in what hands he was; our king is once more ours: we are again his people."[48]
It was in all probability this sermon which caused Münter to be selected to hear Struensee's last confessions and attempt his conversion.
Still, almost immediately after the catastrophe, there were respectable authors who dared unhesitatingly to oppose the zealotry of the clergy, although this was accompanied by double danger at the time. "Religion," so wrote one of them, "is employed as a cloak, for the purpose of deceiving the nation about the events that have occurred. The bought voices of clergymen who deserve punishment, mix up with praises of the Supreme Being the evident lies of calumny. Struensee was to be held up as a regicide, and the deluded people were expected to thank Heaven for saving the king from a peril which had never existed."
But what could these isolated protests effect against the fanatical fury of the priests in a time of universal excitement, when not only the new governing party gave their protection to the worst zealotry, but even other respected men took the part of the revolution in word and writing? Among all these men, none carried matters so far as the well-known historian, Suhm, who was chamberlain to the queen dowager. He published an open letter to the king, whose contents are an everlasting brand on the name of an otherwise esteemed literary man:—
"Long enough," we read in the beginning of this pamphlet, "have religion and virtue been trampled under foot among us; long enough have honesty and integrity been turned away from our frontiers. A disgraceful mob of low people had seized on the person of the king and rendered access to him impossible for every honourable man. He only saw and heard with their eyes and ears—while the country swam in tears, while the Danish land had become a name of shame, and men, when abroad, did not dare express that they belonged to it; while the rich were plundered, the sun of the royal house turned pale, and everything was given up to ignominious robbers, blasphemers, and enemies of humanity. And while all this was going on the king was cheerful and happy, in the belief that the welfare of his subjects was being promoted."
After a fulsome panegyric of the queen dowager and her son (of whom Suhm says in a foot-note: "Theologians will decide whether these names designate glorified angels or angels still living on earth"), the writer proceeds to thank all the patriots "who with firm intention helped to tear the bandage from the king's eyes which prevented him from seeing, who raised up the king and country again, risked their lives to save the land, and restored the king his true and legitimate power." After which effusion of gratitude the zealous chamberlain burst into fresh assertions: that it was the highest time for the work of salvation to be carried out, for the capital would perhaps have become within a few days the prey of the flames—one immense ruin; while Denmark and Norway might have been happy under a king who entertained the most fervent wishes for their welfare.
This famous rubbish terminated with a warning appeal to the king, "to let the blood of so many kings that flowed in his veins warm his heart, and make him look at his people himself. Thus Christian IV. and Frederick IV. had acted. But he must not allow himself to be persuaded by flatterers that he was already what those kings had been, but strive to become as they." Then came a tremendous flourish. "From God and your nation you have received the autocracy: you are, therefore, also responsible to God and the nation for the use you have made of this power. You must set bounds on your own might, by regarding God as possessing a higher authority than your own, and by choosing the worthiest man for your government: the most worthy you have in your brother.[49] You must mercifully chastise those who have some claim to be treated graciously, but punish justly and without mercy the men who have dishonoured the king and the country.... You ought to fear God, love your people, take the government into your own hands, and believe your brother."
One more passage, and I will close this pamphlet.
"Who would not praise and esteem that dangerous but honourable night! Future Homers and Virgils will sing its praises, and so long as there are any Danish and Norwegian heroes left, the glory of Juliana Maria and Frederick will endure, but cannot be augmented, as that is impossible. Sooner shall the world fall into nothingness than their glory pass away."
In such a fashion as this, an otherwise honourable and educated man ventured to address his monarch, to heap up the heaviest charges and most manifest insults on men who were imprisoned but not yet sentenced, and even went so far as to urge on the sovereign who would decide their fate the inhuman request that he should mercilessly punish them. For all that, this public letter was praised by the majority as a proof of patriotic zeal, and of worthy liberality; and Counts Bernstorff and Von Reventlow even thanked the author in writing for his patriotic deed.
Probably encouraged by praise from such high quarters, the same author issued shortly after a second pamphlet, bearing the title, "To my Countrymen: Danes, Norwegians, and Holsteiners." In it he declared that it was only a reasonable feeling "if every body hated Struensee and desired vengeance upon him; for all the nations of Europe would regard a people that allowed itself to be governed by a Struensee, as a vile and cowardly people, and not call the man a barbarian who removed such a monster."
Justiz-rath Langebeck, keeper of the archives, a well-known historian, also accused Struensee in a pamphlet, "Liberal Thoughts on the Day of Requital," of the most scandalous things, and at the same time abused the fallen party in a truly Danish fashion, selecting his complimentary titles from the infernal regions and the entire animal kingdom, calling them sometimes murder-fiends and firebrands of hell; at others, goats, apes, brute beasts, wolves, tigers, &c. "But Juliana Maria's renown would last to the end of time, and far, far surpass that of Semiramis."
A third sample of the literary cynicism prevailing at that time in Denmark was supplied by Etats-rath Tyge Rothe, ex-tutor of the hereditary prince, whom Struensee had appointed, in the first place, burgo-master, and then deputy of the finances. In a poem, bearing the title of "On the Day of January 17, 1772," which was published by order of the government, we read: "In later times the fury against divinity had been truly Pharaonic, and persons wallowed in Capreæan pleasure;" but "those men of fine mind and cool courage, possessed of strength and fiery souls—they, O people, prepared this festival for you." By such flattering terms the writer alluded to men like Rantzau, Eickstedt, Köller, and Beringskjold.
A multitude of anonymous pamphlets flooded town and country, such as "Thanksgiving of the twin Kingdoms," "Evening Thoughts upon the 17th of January—a Day so memorable for both Kingdoms," "The Hymn of Victory of the Copenhagen Citizens," "The Joy of the Israelites at their Liberation from the Claws of Haman," &c. In all these miserable pamphlets Struensee was represented as "the great northern thief," "Apollyon, or the great dragon," "the ex-barber and traitor," whose crimes and misdeeds were so horrible that they "could not be sufficiently punished by blows, or by sulphur, tar, or the executioner's sword."[50]
The amusements of the court were in no way interrupted by the events that had occurred, although the previous behaviour had been discovered to be so godless. Accompanied by his brother, or, speaking correctly, under his charge, the weak-minded king took frequent drives through the streets of the capital to Frederiksberg, and to the island of Amack; and as a great deal of snow had just fallen, sleighing parties were got up. The queen dowager, also, often drove to Frederiksberg, in order to enjoy her authority in the apartments of her overthrown rival.
As early as January 23, there was a state dinner and ball at the Christiansborg, and a Cour on the following day. These festivals were numerously attended, but especially that on January 29, the anniversary of the king's twenty-third birthday. In addition to the three royal personages, only twelve selected guests sat down to the banquet in the Rittersaal. After dinner the king proceeded with his suite to the palace theatre, where two new French vaudevilles[51] and a ballet were performed. At night there was a grand supper of seventy-five covers in the Rittersaal, to which the foreign envoys and the most distinguished of the nobility were invited. On the following day there was a masked ball at the palace, and three days after a bal paré. The royal party did not stay away from any festivity, and it was evident that they wished, by these uninterrupted revelries, to convince the king of the universal feeling of joy at what had happened. For not only did the newspapers contain frequent accounts of the amusements at court, but the king appeared at the great city theatre to witness Danish performances, which was a most unusual event.
The two boys and the young negro girl, who had formerly constituted the domestic amusements of his most gracious Majesty, were, however, removed from the palace immediately after the downfall of Struensee and Brandt. Even the king's favourite dog, Gourmand, who had a carriage for his sole use when the king travelled and a lackey to attend him; who was served with food from the king's table, and was often fed by his royal master's hand—even this dog shared the fate of the favourites, and was returned to the nobleman who had presented him to the king.
Although there was an attempt at court to lead to the belief that nothing had happened, a certain uneasy apprehension began to be felt, when it was rumoured that the lower classes were beginning to grow dissatisfied, and an almost ludicrous occurrence at the royal theatre revealed to the public the fact, that at times a guilty conscience can induce even great personages to lose their countenance.
A few evenings after the eventful January 17, while the whole court were at the French play, there was a disturbance in the upper boxes, which continually increased, and was only augmented by those who tried to restore peace. One rumour followed the other, and in the end it was even stated that the convicts had broken prison and joined their friends and the sailors, for the purpose of creating a riot and an opportunity for plundering. This news ran like wildfire from box to box, through the pit and gallery, and all the audience, royal personages and court included, were in a fearful state of excitement. All began running to the doors, in order to get out and save themselves. The king, too, rushed from his box with wild looks, the hereditary prince followed his example, and the queen-mother tried in vain to keep them back, until she, overcome by terror, fell in a fainting fit. Similar scenes took place in the other boxes, and fainting ladies might be seen everywhere. The news of the affair had reached the city by this time, and curious persons collected round the theatre and tried to force their way in against those who were pouring out, until some cooler men discovered the origin of the whole business. A woman had taken her child with her into the gallery, and the latter disturbed the more immediate spectators by crying. They began quarrelling in consequence with the nurse, and in this way a general disturbance was brought about in the upper part of the playhouse.[52]
The confusion produced by this interlude caused Biälke, the marshal of the court, to issue an order on January 23, by which, in future, children would not be allowed to be present at performances in the royal theatre, and grown-up persons would only be admitted on showing their tickets, to the amphitheatre, the pit-boxes, and the second tier. At the same time, he warned all those who wished to visit the theatre to behave themselves in the way which the presence of the royal family dictated, and not to disturb the performances by loud talking or noise. Any one who did so must expect to be refused admission to the theatre in future.
The alarm displayed by the three royal personages and their intimate adherents in the theatre, had, however, been too great and too public for them to be satisfied with the above order. Hence, police regulations were made to prevent mobs and street riots. The masters were ordered to keep their apprentices at home at night, or otherwise be responsible that no street disturbance was produced by them. Further, it was prohibited to illuminate the houses henceforth on the birthdays of the king and the prince royal. The order against sitting in pot-houses after ten o'clock, which Struensee had revoked, was again established, and everybody was warned against letting off guns and pistols in the streets, shooting rockets, or throwing crackers. The city gates, which had been left open, were now again locked at night, and this order was soon after extended to the hours of divine service. Lastly, it was ordered that the passports of all persons leaving the city must be issued by the Danish Chancery, and all house owners were requested to give immediate notice to the police of the arrival of strangers and travellers.
The persecution of Struensee's adherents, and the distribution of rewards among near and distant participators in the coup d'état were not interrupted by all these matters, and several of the deposed officials were again placed on active service.
On the days immediately following January 17th, arrests, reprimands, and dismissals occurred in rapid succession. On the 18th, Lersner, the master of the hounds, was arrested, and although he was released again soon after, it was with orders to quit Copenhagen and Danish territory within thrice twenty-four hours. He had hardly reached Roeskilde, when a government courier caught him up with orders to hurry his departure from the king's territory as much as he could.
The minister's younger brother, Lieutenant Struensee, was ordered to leave the Danish states with the same speed. As his name was his sole proven crime, and he was poor, he was given 200 dollars for his travelling expenses, and a pass as a law student, and he quitted Copenhagen at the same time as the master of the hounds. Five years after, he was permitted to reside with his parents at Schleswig, but on the condition that he must not show himself in the Danish portion of the kingdom. He afterwards received an appointment in Prussia, through the interest of his brother, the Justiz-rath, who eventually became the Prussian Minister of Finances.
Captain Charles Düval, of the Norwegian king's regiment stationed in Copenhagen, met with the same fate. As, however, he was able to prove his perfect innocence, he was recalled and given a company in the Borncholm regiment. As we have seen, Brandt employed him to engage actors in Paris for the king's playhouse; and he had been recommended to the cabinet minister as a trustworthy man. By what means the captain succeeded in cleansing himself from the stigma of trustworthiness to his late employer, is not known.
It excited attention that about the same time one of the conspirators received orders from the king to quit Copenhagen. This was the amply rewarded Beringskjold, who was commanded to select as his residence the little town of Wordingborg, at the southern extremity of Seeland, and was told that he must not leave it under the king's most serious displeasure. His offence is stated to have consisted in calling the minister of foreign affairs, Von der Osten, a rogue, because he had intrigued against Chamberlain Kragh being removed from his office of governor of Laaland, so that Beringskjold might take his place. It is probable, however, that a motive of greater weight led to his banishment from the capital. As the reward he received in cash did not satisfy him, he spread a report that he had foiled the plan of excluding the king's children from the succession to the throne, and this statement of his was repeated to the people in authority. For the fact that the queen dowager at first entertained such plans in order to elevate her beloved son to the throne, is as certain as that Guldberg opposed them, for he was sensible enough to see that such a daring scheme would be immediately followed by a protest from the nation and the foreign powers, England at their head.
Of the other arrested persons, General Gude, and the three cabinet clerks, Von Zoëga, Martini, and Panning, were soon after set at liberty, and no further measures were taken against them. Frau von Gähler, who had numerous friends, was removed from the citadel to her own house as state prisoner, while her husband remained in prison. The servants of the two counts, Struensee and Brandt, were set at liberty, as innocent creatures beneath revenge.
On the other hand, the Chief Equerry Baron von Bülow, whose pretty wife was regarded as an intriguing lady, received peremptory orders to quit the capital at once, and as the couple were compelled to stay on the road in Seeland, in order that the lady might get over her accouchement, a second order was sent after them to hurry their journey to Holstein. Herr von Bülow had drawn the hatred of the hereditary prince on himself, by giving the prince's horses a stall separated from the royal stables.
Queen Matilda's two maids of honour, Von Kalkreuth and Von Thienen, who were so devoted to their mistress, were sent off to the German duchies, and even the queen's hairdresser was compelled to quit the capital. Chamberlain von Warnstedt voluntarily went out of the way of the storm; returned to Schleswig, and was eventually appointed chief forester there.
The next man who fell under proscription was excellent Reverdil, who has supplied so much curious information about the court of Christian VII. If he had not believed in the guilt of Caroline Matilda, I should have liked him better; but as it is, I will not let him drop out of this history without giving some account of his overthrow.
At six o'clock on the morning of January 17, Reverdil heard a knocking at his door, and a voice exclaiming, "Do not be frightened; no harm will be done you; it is I, your friend, Colonel Köller." When Reverdil let him in, he handed him a note from the king to the following effect: "I shall not see you for the next few days; circumstances oblige me to this." Reverdil spent the day among his friends, picking up information, and went that night to the French play, where the royal family were present. The next morning, Köller came from the king to arrest him for disobedience of orders. The conversation between the two was capital.
"May I know what procures this arrest?"
"I do not know. How do you stand with Count Osten?"
"Neither well nor ill."
"It was he who gave me this message, as he came out of the king's cabinet."
"But what have I done since yesterday morning?"
"You went to the play; and the king, who wrote to you that he did not wish to see you, saw you there,——or might have seen you."
"Oh, come, that is impossible; he is too short-sighted; and then I was under his box; besides, I could not give that meaning to the order you brought me."
It was all of no use; Reverdil remained under arrest, in his rooms, till the 23rd, when the cabinet secretary, Shumacher, set him at liberty, and said that the king, presuming he would prefer living in his own country, was willing to pay him 1,000 dollars for his travelling expenses. Shortly after, the queen dowager requested an audience of Reverdil. When he entered the room, she said:
"I cannot tell by what mistake you were arrested. I only heard of it yesterday. I had given orders that you should not be; and last Friday, when you came to see me, I said to myself, 'At any rate, he will not be disturbed.' I only wish I could have spared the rest. But the queen had forgotten everything that she owed to her sex, birth, and rank. Still, my son and I should have refrained, had not these irregularities affected the state. The kingdom was in trouble, and going to ruin. God supported me; I felt neither alarm nor terror."
The queen dowager then spoke with some detail about her son's grievances; the insolence the favourites displayed toward him; the impenetrable secrecy he kept before the 17th; and the courage he showed in the execution. Reverdil heard from the queen one of the instances of harsh behaviour toward her son. He was fond of riding on horseback, and this exercise was necessary for his health. In rainy and snowy weather he could only satisfy this taste in the riding school. The palace one was an academy three days in the week; on the other three days it was reserved for the royal family. Queen Matilda and Struensee, since their return to Copenhagen, occupied it on these three days, and had the entrance closed against the king's brother.
Still Reverdil's liberty caused Osten and Rantzau some alarm. They both feared lest, by regaining his intimacy with the king, he might employ his credit on behalf of the prisoners. Count von der Osten, whose principal talent was espionage in the palace and intriguing with the pages and valets, was informed of Reverdil's interview with the queen dowager, and was afraid that he might re-suggest the plan of recalling to court Count von Bernstorff or Prince Charles of Hesse, with whom he maintained a correspondence. Hence Von der Osten advised Reverdil to leave "for his own sake;" and the Swiss, who was only too glad to shake off the dust of a palace, left Copenhagen about a week after.
For a while, Reverdil resided at Nyon, but eventually entered the service of the Helvetic Republic, and died in 1808, the same year when Christian VII., driven by the English out of his capital, ended his wretched existence in Rendsburg. After Reverdil's dismissal, Jacobi, whose mother was bed-chamber woman to the queen dowager, was appointed reader to the king, and Nielsen director of the king's private library.
The number of prisoners was augmented by a few other disagreeable persons, who, however, were nearly all set at liberty again. Among the latter were Gabel, the owner of the destroyed hotel, and his step-daughter. The brother of Chamberlain Falckenskjold, though he had been asleep during the revolution, and was promoted like his comrades, was obliged to put up with several days' arrest at the main guard, because he ventured to make some harsh remarks about his brother's treatment. However, he was soon after set at liberty again, and eventually rose to the rank of colonel in the army.
Legations-rath Sturtz was at first left untroubled. He had lately drawn away from Struensee, and written the latter, shortly before his arrest, a letter, in which he reproached the minister for meditating the recall of Bernstorff's pension, and pointed at the great services of the discharged minister. That Sturtz felt no apprehension on his own account upon Struensee's fall, is proved by the fact that he arranged for his marriage with the daughter of Major Mazar de la Garde to take place on January 24, and placed none of his papers in safety. But as he ventured to suggest the recall of Bernstorff to the new holders of power, he had ere long to pay dearly for this want of caution. On January 20 he was dismissed from his post with a pension of 500 dollars, and ordered to live in a small town of Seeland.
Unfortunately for Sturtz, one of the officers watching Falckenskjold happened to mention his name to the prisoner. The latter asked eagerly, had he been arrested too? No more was required: the question was reported, and armed men were at once sent to Sturtz's house. His door was burst open, his papers were sealed up, and he was himself removed to the main guard, in default of another prison, on the very day of his intended marriage. His father-in-law having been seen under the windows of his prison, bars were placed on it so brutally that Sturtz was attacked by convulsive fits, and became dangerously ill.[53]
I have already mentioned the removal of Colonel von Falckenskjold from the barracks to the Navy prison, only intended for vulgar criminals. This was but a counterpart of the inhuman treatment of the two chief culprits, and a further proof of the revengeful sentiments of the party in power.
On the evening of January 17 the fetters were brought from the forge with which Counts Struensee and Brandt and Justiz-rath Struensee were to be chained. The fetters of the two counts weighed eighteen pounds apiece, ran from a manacle on the right hand to a similar one on the left leg, and thence with a length of three yards to the wall, in which they were fixed. The furniture of the close, gloomy cells consisted of a night-stool and a settle; but afterwards a chair and a small table were added. After the prisoners had been deprived of everything that might be considered dangerous, strait-waistcoats were put on them. They were not entrusted with knives and forks to eat with, but the turnkeys were ordered to cut up their food and carry it to their mouths. They were not allowed to be shaved, even when they offered to let their hands be held. At first only half a dollar per diem was allowed them for food; but it was afterwards increased to one dollar.
A curious circumstance, which I find only in one pamphlet,[54] is, that the smith at the citadel was a slave whom, about a year before, Struensee had seen in the streets of the capital chained. This man had asked him for alms, and begged him to intercede with the king to procure his liberty. At that time the minister gave him alms, and said to him, "You do not wear this chain on account of your virtue." When this fellow put the chain on his prisoner, he remarked: "Your excellency, I do not put this chain on you on account of your virtue."
Shut up in this awful dungeon, Struensee, who had so suddenly been hurled from power into the lowest state of misery, and was unable to endure the contrast between the past and present, revolved means for putting an end to his existence. Pretending to be suffering from toothache, he begged the turnkey to send some one to his cabinet, where he would find some tooth-powder in paper, which would lull the pain. This powder, on being examined by Von Berger the physician, proved to be a dangerous poison, and hence it was not given to the prisoner.
Struensee then resolved to starve himself to death; for three days he was allowed to do as he pleased; but on the fourth the commandant gave orders that he was to eat and drink, and unless he did so of his own accord, he was to be thrashed until his appetite returned. Certainly, a very Danish mode of creating an appetite; but this desperate conduct on the part of the prisoner was a natural result of his insupportable arrest; for had it been rendered more humane, it would not have been necessary to threaten him with such barbarity.
After awhile, Struensee promised to behave himself better, and a bed was given him on which he could lie down. But all the buttons were cut off his clothes, because he had twisted off and swallowed a couple of them. His shoe and knee buckles were also removed, and he was made to wear an iron cap, so that he could not dash his brains out against the wall. At last the hope of saving his life gained the victory over the prisoner's desperation; he began to occupy himself with reading, and thus calmed his outraged feelings.
Count Brandt endured his terrible fate with a perfectly different temper. He was always cheerful, and almost merry, played the flute, his favourite air being one from the "Déserteur," beginning "Mourir c'est notre dernier ressort," and saved six schillings out of the twenty-four he received daily, which he intended as a present for his future executioner. One of his favourite expressions was, "A small mind may allow itself to be depressed by trifles, but a great one raises its head high above fate." Brandt also had a chain three yards long given him, so that he might lie down on a bed.[55]
Justiz-rath Struensee was also laid in fetters in his cell, but was not fastened to the wall. Luckily for Professor Berger, there were no more chains ready, and so he was allowed to walk about his cell at liberty till they were made. But neither of these prisoners was allowed the use of knives and forks, or of his own bed, although the barber was permitted to shave them, their hands being held the while.
On January 21, a Commission of Inquisition, consisting of eight high officials, was appointed, to whom a ninth member was eventually added, whose duty it was to conduct the investigation of the twelve prisoners, and pass sentence upon them. Still, five weeks passed ere the examination of witnesses was commenced. All Europe looked with horror on these unheard-of events at Copenhagen, and anxiously awaited the end of a state trial which had begun with the imprisonment of a young queen.
The members of the commission had the reputation of being enlightened and honourable men, but were not selected on that account to try the prisoners, but, because their sentiments, as regarded Struensee and his adherents, were perfectly well known. At the same time as this commission was established, Lieut.-General von Köller-Banner, Councillor of Conference Schumacher, Chamberlain Suhm and Guldberg, received orders to examine the papers of the prisoners, and send them to the proper quarter, but to pay over all moneys found to the Royal Exchequer. A proclamation of January 27, ordered all persons who were in possession of money, papers, and other matters belonging to the persons arrested on January 17, and the following days, to deliver up such within eight days to the Commission of Inquisition, which sat daily from 9 A.M. till 4 P.M., at the Christiansborg Palace.
During the five weeks that passed ere the Commission had made all the requisite preparations for examining the prisoners of state, the new rulers appointed the officers who would henceforth constitute the government. Immediately after Struensee's removal, a Privy Cabinet Council was instituted under the presidency of Prince Frederick. The other members of it were Count Thott, Privy Councillor Schack Rathlau, Admiral Römeling, and Lieutenant-Generals von Eickstedt and Von Köller-Banner. On January 23, this cabinet council met for the first time, but its installation was not made generally known by public proclamation. The chief president, Von Holstein, who was disliked, resigned his post, and left the capital with his wife, in order to resume his former office of bailiff.
On February 13, however, public notice was given that the king had thought proper to establish a government college under the title of the Privy Council of State. It was the king's will—so the proclamation ran—that in future all matters should be first laid before the college, which would examine them, and then have them decided by men who were well acquainted with the laws and constitution of the country. In consequence of this, he had resolved on establishing a Privy Council of State, and giving it the proper instructions. In addition to Prince Frederick, the council of state would consist of the following members: Count Thott, General Count zu Rantzau-Ascheberg, Privy Councillor Schack Rathlau, Admiral Römeling, Lieutenant-General von Eickstedt, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs Count von der Osten, who would wait on the king upon certain days of the week. No other member of the council but the Minister of Foreign Affairs was allowed to be head of a department. Should the king think proper to issue resolutions otherwise than through the council of state, to prevent the confusion which would result from the colleges interested being unacquainted with the contents of such resolutions, the holder of such a resolution would be expected, ere he made use of it, to inform the college interested of it, so that a most submissive report might be drawn up by the latter, and the formal expedition take place through the Secretary of State's office. All requests, representations and reports, with the exception of those relating to the German lands, were in future to be drawn up in the Danish language, and all reports handed in by the colleges be discussed in the privy council of state, where they would receive the royal sanction.
By this restoration of the privy council of state, the at first intended institution of a cabinet council, which too much resembled Struensee's hated government, was avoided; and as the overthrown minister had drawn such odium on himself by despising the language of the country, the new ministers certainly acted prudently and wisely in restoring it. Ere long, they made a further improvement by introducing Danish instead of German in the army drill. The members of the new council of state were also all natives of the monarchy, which would not have been the case had Bernstorff and Moltke been introduced into it.
By the last regulation of the instructions for the future course of business in the council of state, the king's signature was deprived of all force and validity, except in council. It is true that this restriction might be regarded as emanating from the king himself, and be used to avoid any possible forgery of his signature. Still, it was quite certain that, henceforth, the king could undertake no affair of state that had not previously received the sanction of the council. And yet it was regarded as a crime worthy of death in Struensee, that he issued instructions to the colleges in his Majesty's name, and his enemies appealed to paragraphs three and twenty-six of the Lex Regia. These may be as well quoted, once for all, as frequent reference will be made to them:—
Sec. III.—Hence the king shall have alone the highest power and authority, both to issue and explain laws and regulations according to his will, to make them invalid, to pass others in their place, and even to abrogate laws passed by himself or his ancestors (always excepting this royal law, which must always remain immutable and uninjured as the right foundation of the royal authority and a fundamental law). The king can also liberate and exempt any person he pleases from the general law.
Sec. XXVI.—... And as both daily experience, as well as the lamentable examples of other kingdoms, sufficiently prove how injurious and ruinous it is if the clemency and kindness of kings are so misused, that their power and authority are cut away from them almost invisibly by one or the other, and, at times, even by their most privy ministers; and, through this, both the commonwealth and the kings themselves suffer the greatest detriment.... We therefore wish to recommend this earnestly to our successors, the hereditary rulers in Denmark and Norway, that they should take special care to protect their hereditary right and sovereign rule; that is to say, preserve the supreme monarchical power perfect and unlessened, as we have left it to them for an eternal inheritance in this our royal law. And hence we order and decree, for its further confirmation, that if any one, no matter who, should venture to desire or appropriate anything which could be injurious to the sovereign rule and monarchical power in any way, everything obtained in this manner shall be declared null and void, and those who have got possession of such things shall be punished as insulters of majesty, because they have impudently committed the greatest crime against the supremacy of the royal monarchical power.
According to these paragraphs, the writers of the instructions for the new council of state who had extorted the king's signature, and the members of the council who obeyed the instructions, must indubitably be regarded as guilty of high treason, while the instructions, even after the king's signature had been obtained, must be considered null and void, according to the letter of the Lex Regia.
The members of the privy council received in their patents the title of Ministers of State and Excellencies. Count Thott became reporter for the two Chanceries; Privy Councillor Schack Rathlau for the Treasury; Count von der Osten for Foreign Affairs; Count Rantzau-Ascheberg for the Army; and Admiral Römeling for the Navy. Count Thott, as president during the king's absence, had a salary of 6,000 dollars; the other members 5,000. The question was long discussed whether a secretary should not be attached to the council in the person of Chamberlain Suhm, the writer of the famous open letter to the king; but they altered their mind at the eleventh hour, and resolved not to keep any report of the proceedings of the council.
Köller was not taken into the council, because two representatives of the army could not sit in it. On the day when the council was established, however, he was made a Danish nobleman, and an unfurled banner was given him as his coat of arms.
Guldberg, who drew up the instructions, still contented himself with the mere title of Etats-rath, but, for all that, was the most influential man in the government, and esteemed Eickstedt. Rantzau, on the other hand, soon remarked that his authority was departing.
CHAPTER VII.
WHAT THEY SAID IN ENGLAND.
COLONEL KEITH—BAD NEWS FROM COPENHAGEN—DEATH OF THE PRINCESS OF WALES—THE PUBLIC PRESS—JUNIUS'S LETTER—ATTICUS—A FOUL LIBEL—THE EARL OF BUTE DENOUNCED—ANOTHER APPEAL FOR THE QUEEN—THE STATE OF PUBLIC OPINION—THE APPROACHING TRIAL.
So soon as the coup d'état was an accomplished fact, Colonel Keith, the British envoy, lost not a moment in acting on behalf of the sister of his monarch. Dark rumours were afloat that a family council had been held to decide the fate of the queen; and it was even said that proposals to execute her at once were entertained. Colonel Keith, under these circumstances, forced his way into the Christiansborg, and denounced war against Denmark if a hair of her head were touched. This done, he despatched a messenger forthwith to England, and immediately locked himself and his household up until the answer should arrive.
What the nature of Keith's despatch was it is impossible to tell till the Foreign Office shall give up its dead, by repealing the absurd regulation that no state papers may be inspected after the year 1760. For the present, therefore, I am only able to inform my readers of what the public journals of the day said, and that is naturally rather in the shape of surmise than fact.
As early as January 23, the General Evening Post spread an uneasy feeling by the following portentous paragraph:—"It is affirmed by letters from the Continent that a royal princess is certainly detained in a tower inaccessible to every creature except such as are appointed to attend her, but that an absolute silence is imposed throughout the kingdom on this subject." On January 26, the journalist being unable to offer more precise information, and yet unwilling to let the subject drop, keeps it alive by a paragraph to the following effect:—
"So exceedingly cautious are foreign states when they marry a daughter of England not to let an English woman attend the princess into their territories, for fear of her having too much influence over the mind of her royal mistress, that when the Queen of Denmark was sent over to her illustrious consort, she had only one bed-chamber woman in her suite as far as Altona, and even this one was sent back on her arrival at that place, that the Danish ladies only might have the ear of her Majesty."
On January 29, just as the king was about to hold a levee, an express arrived from Copenhagen, bearing the news. It threw the royal family, we are told, into the profoundest affliction; his Majesty seemed deeply affected by the news; and the queen and the Princess of Brunswick were observed to shed tears. But there was another member of the royal family whom the news would afflict even more: the mother of Caroline Matilda, who, as we have seen, felt persuaded that her daughter had been guilty of gross indiscretion, and who, in the previous year, had attempted to turn her from a course which her own experience of court intrigues told her must end in ruin.
The Princess Dowager of Wales was at this time dangerously ill with a throat complaint, and it was therefore proposed to George III. that this new misfortune should be concealed from her. But the king answered, incautiously, "My mother will know everything, and, therefore, it is better that I should break it to her by degrees." He therefore went to her directly, suddenly forbidding his levee just half an hour before it was going to begin, and thus was the first to publish the disgrace of his sister. Walpole, who is our authority for the above,[56] adds, in a strain of reflection unusual with him:—
"Such an accumulated succession of mortifications has rarely fallen on a royal family in so short a space. They seemed to have inherited the unpropitious star of the Stuarts, from whom they are descended, as well as their crown. The marriage of the Duke of Cumberland with Colonel Luttrell's sister, the dangerous illness of the Princess of Wales and the Duke of Gloucester, and the dishonour of the Queen of Denmark: all happening within three months."
We are told—though let us hope that it was only the floating gossip of the day—that the princess dowager, on receiving the fatal news from the Continent, prayed most fervently for her speedy dissolution; declaring that the world could not be more weary of her than she was of the world, and desiring her attendants never to mention the name of a "certain princess" in her presence.
For the next few days the newspapers necessarily contained only what information could be picked up at the coffee-houses. Thus we find that it was generally believed that the worst part of the news from Denmark was not yet published, and, therefore, all was suspense, doubt, and anxiety, among the constant visitors at St. James's. The politicians at the new Lloyd's Coffee-house very busily engaged in speculative bets upon a war with Denmark; but considerate people imagined that Lord North was much too wise to engage offensively against any power merely on account of a family faux-pas, especially when the conduct of the person to be supported was indefensible.
The natural inclination to think ill of one's neighbour was only heightened at this time through the profound secrecy maintained by the government. Still, it is gratifying to find some writers at this early period calling for the assistance of a fleet to vindicate, rather than the voice of the British nation to condemn, the Queen of Denmark; and further on in the same article Caroline Matilda is spoken of as the "Royal Innocent."
Early in February, a long letter appeared in the General Evening Post, calling attention to the whole affair in very powerful language. The writer, after urging the nation not to decide on ex parte statements, proceeds to defend Caroline Matilda in the following warm terms:—
"Recollect the manner in which that lady was educated, and that, when delivered into the hands of her husband, she was in full possession of every virtue. All the graces were in her: she knew nothing but what was good. Can it then, with any degree of reason, be concluded that in so short a time the lady could forget every virtuous precept, and abandon herself to infamy? My dear countrymen, it cannot be; and until we have a certainty of guilt, believe it not, though an angel from Copenhagen should affirm it. It was but the other day we were told of certain regulations which had taken place, and are for the advantage of that kingdom, and which were wholly attributed to the counsel of that lady. Alas! there is too much reason to fear that her exalted character, justly acquired with the populace, has produced in those of rank—envy, hatred, confusion, and ruin."
The writer, who like most of his countrymen appears to have been in a state of blessed ignorance about the affairs of foreign courts, then bursts into a furious and quite irrelevant diatribe on poor Baron Schimmelmann, whom he supposes to be the prime minister of Denmark. After giving a concise account of that gentleman's chequered career, and displaying an amount of malice in raking up dirty things which makes one believe that C. P. owed Schimmelmann grudge, he vents his bile in the following words, which certainly contain some truth:—
"It is wickedly asserted that the monarch's (Christian VII.) illness is attributed to some medicines given him by his physician, &c. The truth is, that you ought rather to wonder that his Majesty is now alive, than that he is afflicted with nervous and paralytic disorders. My eyes were witness to the manner and excess of his living when he was at Altona. I could say a great deal, but it does not become me. I shall only say this one thing, which is an indisputable truth: that many who then saw his Majesty, concluded from his delicate constitution that it could not hold long, and execrated our baron for his introducing him to, and encouraging him in, the most destructive vices. Therefore, if any disorder affects the head of his Majesty, may it not be more justly attributed to such excess than to the queen, who was educated in the fear of God?"
The illness of the princess dowager prevented George III. from taking any decided action on behalf of his sister. On the morning of February 8 the princess departed this life. On the previous evening her physician felt her pulse, and told her it was more regular than it had been for some time; her Highness answered, "Yes, and I think I shall have a good night's rest." She then embraced the king, and he observed nothing particular in her except that she kissed him with greater warmth and affection than usual. The king afterwards retired to a private room with the physician, who told him that her Highness could not outlive the morning, which determined his Majesty on staying at Carlton House all night. He did not see his royal mother any more till she was dead, for she remained very quiet all the night, and gave no token of death, till a few minutes before she expired, when she laid her hand upon her heart and went off without a groan. His Majesty was then informed, and he came in and took his mother's hand, kissed it, and burst into tears; a short time after which he returned to St. James's.[57]
There is but little to add to the character of this princess than that communicated in the opening chapter. When she was gone to a state far superior to mortal praise or blame, where the lying voice of calumny and faction could not reach her, people began to discover that "never was a more amiable, a more innocent, or a more benevolent princess." It was publicly denied that she had interfered in the politics of the country, or influenced the king in affairs of state. She discharged, to the utmost of her power and out of her own income, the large private debts of her husband. Her charity was extensive; and it was stated that she gave away upwards of £10,000 a year, and that so secretly, that the recipients of her bounty would only learn who their benefactress was through the cessation of her charities. Hence it is not surprising that she made no will, for she had nothing to leave.
Though the Princess of Wales constantly read all the public papers till within a few weeks of her death, the unmerited abuse with which they teemed never excited in her the least emotion of anger or resentment; nor was she ever heard to speak disparagingly of any individual. She was steady in her friendships, and so indulgent a mistress to her servants, that she was ever anxious to give them as little trouble as possible. Her understanding was clear and solid; her temper even, serene, and placid, and her religion real and unaffected, which enabled her to meet death with a truly Christian resignation. To the very last minute of her life she was sensible and composed, and gave apparent signs of satisfaction at the truly filial concern which the royal pair displayed, and the great attention they paid her in her last extremity. A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine sums up the character of the Princess of Wales so fairly, that I am tempted to extract the concluding passage:—
"In her royal highness we have a striking instance of the instability of human happiness. Many now alive can remember her the happiest of wives and mothers, and universally beloved, as our good queen now is. She was for many years the very idol of the people of England; and, without any blame on her part, she has been publicly and repeatedly traduced beyond all example. She has long been bereaved of the best of husbands: (?) has outlived several of her children, and has had the recent mortification of seeing one marry indiscreetly, another languishing under a dangerous illness, and a third a prisoner in a distant kingdom. Overwhelmed with these accumulated misfortunes, and struggling with bodily distempers, Heaven, as a reward for her pure and virtuous conduct in every relation in life, has graciously and seasonably delivered her from the sorrows of this mortal state to the mansions of endless felicity, where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest."
One of the most unfortunate results of the death of the Princess of Wales in this crisis of affairs was, that the crafty Von der Osten had time to persuade the King of England that this affair was not one of those which ought to be treated by ministers as between nations; that it was personal; that his brother, the King of Denmark, would write to him in his own hand, and that his Britannic Majesty should reply in the same way. George III., who was so honest as to believe everybody, fell into the trap so artfully laid for him.
On February 28, Lord Suffolk, the foreign secretary, sent despatches to Colonel Keith, adding to them a personal letter, in which he expressed the king's satisfaction at the ability, spirit, and dignity the envoy had displayed, and enclosing the Order of the Bath as a reward. From Danish accounts I learn that George III. replied to Christian's letter, that what had happened grieved him deeply, but he hoped that justice would be observed, and every possible indulgence shown.
With this letter Sir R. M. Keith proceeded to demand a private audience of the King of Denmark, and a day being appointed for the purpose, the envoy, on entering the ante-chamber, was much surprised at seeing, instead of the king, some members of the council of state, who intimated to him that his Majesty, not being very well, had charged them to receive what the envoy had to communicate, and they would inform him of it. Sir R. Keith replied, that the orders he had received from his master were to speak to the king in person, and not to his ministers; and that he was not a little surprised that after his Danish Majesty had consented to give him the audience he requested, he should refer him to his ministers. He then added, that he should not fail to inform his royal master of what had occurred, and retired extremely dissatisfied. As he went, Sir Robert fired a parting shot, to the effect that if the Queen of Denmark was not treated with the respect due to her birth and rank, the king, his master, would not fail to resent it.
Keith, doubtless, informed George III. of the results of this interview, and opened his eyes as to the jugglery that had been practised. Consequently, subsequent despatches from England assumed a more earnest character, and, finally, even contained menaces. At the same time, however, George III. remained true to his word, and said that he would not interfere in the matter, so far as it affected the marriage of Christian VII. with his sister. Hence he consented to the arrest of the queen and her long imprisonment during the trial, but refused to sanction any further or life imprisonment of the accused princess.
There is but little to be learnt from the English papers as to the progress of the negociations. It would appear as if Baron Dieden, the Danish envoy at St. James's, was left without instructions for a time, as he shut himself up in his house till he received commands as to his future conduct. Perhaps fear had something to do in the matter, for Reverdil, who was then in London, states that an anonymous letter was sent the envoy, to the effect that he must answer personally for the safety of the queen. When Dieden finally made his appearance at court, George III. would not speak to him, and the minister took his revenge by standing out of the circle, and laughing impertinently at the king to the Prussian minister.[58]
In the absence of settled news, the gentry, who occupied themselves with writing letters to the papers, had a splendid time of it. The ball was opened by that three-decker Junius, who discharged a double-shotted battery into Lord North. After the usual denunciations of the minister, which the latter probably regarded with his usual pachydermatous indifference, Junius proceeds as follows:—
"An insignificant northern potentate is honoured by a matrimonial alliance with the King of England's sister. A confused rumour prevails that she has been false to his bed: the tale spreads, a particular man is pointed at as the object of her licentious affections. Our hopeful ministry, however, are quite silent: despatches, indeed, are sent off to Copenhagen, but the contents of those despatches are so profound a secret, that with me it almost amounts to a question, whether you yourself know anything of the matter."
After giving a far from flattering description of the remaining members of the cabinet, Junius adds an argument, which certainly is forcible:—
"In private life the honour of a sister is deemed an affair of infinite consequence to a brother. A man of sentiment is anxious to convince his friends and neighbours that the breath of slander has traduced her virtue: and he seizes with avidity every extenuating circumstance that can contribute to alleviate her offence or demonstrate her innocence, beyond the possibility of cavil.
"Is our pious Majesty cast in a different mould from one of his people? or is he taught to believe that the opinion of his subjects has no manner of relation to his own felicity? Are you, my lord, quite devoid of feeling? Have you no warm blood that flows round your heart, that gives your frame a thrilling soft sensation, and makes your bosom flow with affections ornamental to man as a social creation? For shame, my lord, however wrong you act, you must know better; you must be conscious that the people have a right to be informed of every transaction which concerns the welfare of the state. They are part of a mighty empire, which flourishes only as their happiness is promoted; they have a kind of claim in every person belonging to the royal lineage. How, then, can they possibly remain neuter, and see their princess imprisoned by a banditti of northern Vandals?"
After an historical survey of Denmark, not particularly pertinent, Junius informs us that:—
"There is a barbarous ferocity which still clings to the inhabitants of the north, and renders their government subject to perpetual convulsions; but the Danes, I fancy, will be found the only people in our times who have dared to proceed to extremities that alarm all Europe, nay, dared to imprison an English princess, without giving even the shadow of a public reason for their conduct."
After an allusion to the conduct of the Empress Catharine in justifying the murder of her husband, Junius concludes with one of his most impassioned declamations against the sluggish minister, who is so careless of British honour:—
"The present Machiavellian Dowager Julia may send the young queen's soul to Heaven in a night, and through the shameful remissness of you, Lord North, as prime minister of this unhappy country, the public may remain ignorant of every circumstance relative to the murder. Be not, however, deceived: the blood of our sovereign's sister shall not be suffered to cry in vain for vengeance: it shall be heard; it shall be revenged; and what is still more, it shall besprinkle Lord North, and thus affix a stigma on his forehead, which shall make him wander like another Cain, accursed through the world."[59]
This vigorous appeal for Caroline Matilda was followed shortly after by a temperate letter in the Public Advertiser, signed Q. Q. This writer has the merit of seeing further through a millstone than his fellows. He was of opinion that the Danish revolution, far from being general, was merely the effect of a court faction, and that a squadron of British ships sent to Copenhagen would "inspire the queen's friends with confidence and courage, and will check and dispirit those who are her opponents, so that she may either expect to have her conduct cleared up by a fair and impartial trial, or, if it is thought an indignity to submit to that, she may at once be restored to that rank and authority which I am well persuaded she never deserved to lose."
It must not be supposed, however, that Caroline Matilda's defenders were allowed to have it all their own way. A fellow, writing under the name of Atticus, befouled the columns of the Public Advertiser with one of the most scandalous libels on an unoffending woman which ever appeared in those unhappy days, when liberty was confounded with licence of the press.
According to this worthy, the Earl of Bute advised the war with Denmark, and Lord Sandwich seconded him in the hope of increasing his income at the Admiralty. Lord North, "perplexed lest he may on the one hand be deserted by a perfidious master in the midst of the tempest, or, on the other hand, lose the favourite's influence, therefore, temporises, flatters, and procrastinates."
After defending the queen dowager from the charges brought against her and alleging the notorious intimacy of the queen and Struensee, Atticus draws the following inference:—
"I will refer the conclusion (of the intimacy) to those best acquainted with women, whether it ever so happens that they surrender power, confer honours, and resign up all reputation to any man who had not made a deep impression? I am a married man, have a very good kind of dame at my table, and am not at present disturbed with jealousy: but were I to see my wife fond of another man's company, solicitous to do him partial honours, and impatient for his increasing glory, happiness, and renown, and prefer his interest to mine, it would to me be a more certain proof of her criminality than is commonly produced in cases of divorce."
After a lengthened account of Struensee's elevation and fall, not more incorrect than the majority of the fables current at the time, Atticus takes up the common but generally successful radical trick of imputing motives to political opponents.
"The day was fixed, a favourite fell. Methinks I hear the Earl of Bute whisper to his poor affrighted soul, and every corner of his hiding-places murmur with these expressions: God bless us! a known and established favourite ruined in a single night, by a near neighbour—the frenzy may reach this country and I am undone. Englishmen, too, are haters of favourites and Scotchmen; these old, rascally, Whig families, whose power and virtue seem almost lost, may reunite. In the meantime I must do something—a lucky thought occurs to me: I'll fill the minds of the people with prejudices against those haughty Danes. Bradshaw and Dyson shall bribe the printers to suppress any contradictory reports; Englishmen are always ready to vindicate injured virtue at any expense. Therefore, nothing shall be heard but the honour of the king's sister. I know the queen-mother was ignorant of the matter till the deed was done; but I will have her represented as an intriguing old Brimstone. It will go down, because the late dowager here must have prejudiced them against all queen-mothers. By the ghost of Charles, I'll make war against those rascally burghers, which will completely answer my purpose. I will divert the ministers of the two people, weaken the two Protestant states, make room for my namesake, and restore favouritism."
Such were the arguments of a member of the peace-at-any-price-party in 1772. They certainly display a coarse cleverness befitting a demagogue, and doubtless represented the feelings of a considerable section of deluded Englishmen at the time. Let us hope that none of his readers, however, shared the sentiments expressed in the following odious passage:—
"Be assured, my dear countrymen, the queen's supposed inconstancy was in no part the cause of the late revolution in Denmark. Had she committed adultery in the streets, but preserved decency in matters of state, she might now be at liberty, and in that round of amusements. The patriots of Denmark do not make adultery an article of grievances; and if they did, she has been the betrothed of a sovereign prince; she is his lawful wife, subject to the laws of that country. Her brother made no settlement of exclusive power—either for her as a wife or a queen; at least, his pious nature must have forbidden the declared right of ——dom. I wish George III. had entertained the same ideas as did his grandfather, with respect to the slippery tricks of his family; who, in his letter to the Prince Ferdinand, near the close of the late war, concludes with these words: 'Let me advise you to be more careful of your person—your reputation is established, for though our family has produced many ----s, it never produced a poltroon.'"[60]
An anonymous writer in the Gentleman's Magazine stepped forward at once to meet the doughty Atticus in the field, and it is to be regretted that his armour was not stronger. He pleads in misericordiam for Caroline Matilda, appealing to her birth, education, and former behaviour, and concludes with the opinion that a squadron will be the best way of cutting the legal knot. Atticus speedily returned to the charge, but without his former vigour, except, perhaps, when he argues that persons who accept crowns must put up with the inconveniences connected with them. When George III. gave his sister to Christian VII. in marriage, both were aware that Caroline Matilda was to become obedient to the will of an almost unlimited monarch. "The event should teach them both the superior excellency of a limited monarchy and the inestimable value of its laws." Atticus winds up by saying, that if the vengeance and power of England were to be exerted against any prince who married into the British royal family, no matter what his wife's conduct might be, the princesses would soon go begging for husbands.
Such were the arguments employed by our grandfathers when they talked over the fate of the Queen of Denmark. I fear, though, that the tide gradually turned against her, and that this was, in a great measure, owing to the mystery kept up about the affair. Lord North, when pressed in his parliamentary intrenchments, contented himself with answering, "with his natural air of frankness," says Reverdil, who was in London at the time, "that unless expressly ordered to do so by the House, he would not reveal so delicate an affair; that time would discover everything and justify the ministry." Ninety years have since elapsed, but the justification has not been published. All we know for certain is, that an innocent woman's character was blackened by the unwise conduct of those to whom she had a natural right to look for protection. We know, too, that she was allowed to remain in prison for upwards of four months, awaiting the result of a trial which ought never to have taken place.
These considerations, however, should be deferred until I have given all the details connected with this extraordinary trial. In doing so, I shall, fortunately, be enabled to produce documents which have not hitherto been laid before the English public. Whether I shall be able to prove the perfect innocence of Caroline Matilda by their aid, it does not become me to say; that I must leave to the verdict of my readers. But one thing I can with certainty affirm: the treatment of the unfortunate Queen of Denmark was equally fiendish, cruel, and, in every respect, revolting, whether she were guilty or not. Not the slightest evidence could be brought against her: all the statements of the witnesses, which extend to matters rarely produced in a court of law (except, perhaps, in the case of Caroline of Brunswick), will prove themselves to be supposititious, or simple calumnies. It is for this reason that I attach such value to the evidence which has so recently been obtained from the secret archives of Denmark, and which enables me to lay the whole affair, for the first time in full, before the impartial judgment of the English reader.
CHAPTER VIII.
STRUENSEE IN PRISON.
STRUENSEE'S CONFESSION—A HOPELESS DEFENCE—BRANDT'S FIRMNESS—DR. MUNTER—MATERIALISM—DEATH OF BERNSTORFF—A PIOUS LETTER—A ROMAN MOTHER—THE CONVERT—D'ALEMBERT—STRUENSEE'S APOLOGY—THE OTHER PRISONERS.
So soon as the privy council of state had been established and commenced its governmental functions, the examination of the state prisoners was proceeded with at the quarters of the commandant of the citadel, Lieutenant-General von Hobe. The two gates of the fortress were closed during the whole day against every one who did not reside in it; and, in the city, the garrison and bürger guard were held in readiness for any eventuality. At ten o'clock A.M. on February 20, Count Struensee was taken in the commandant's coach, and under the guard of the officer of the watch and six men, to the place of examination. He was dressed in a fur coat, which had been granted him on account of the cold; and before he was introduced to the commission, his chains were removed, and an armchair placed for him. Although very firm, generally, he was seized with a tremor when his fetters were removed, and afterwards when they were put on again at the end of each sitting.
The first examination lasted till two o'clock; it was resumed at half-past four, and continued till seven o'clock. Neither on this day nor on the next morning did Struensee make the slightest confession. He explained all the orders he had given during the last portion of his government as precautions against a popular émeute. He even denied having given any special order; he had merely recommended General Gude to provide effectually for the public safety. On this head, his judges had the strongest proof of his innocence in the fact that all the other prisoners, when they were arrested, believed that it was done by his orders.
As regarded the accusation of gallantry, the prisoner constantly denied it during these first three sittings, with a calmness that astonished his judges. One of them, Councillor Braëm, having used abusive language to him, Struensee exhorted him to imitate his tranquillity, adding, that the affair concerned himself more than anybody. It is stated that this same Braëm menaced him with a certain apparatus, which was ready in another room, and by means of which the truth was torn from obstinate criminals. Struensee replied, that nothing could be drawn from him by torture, seeing that he had nothing to confess or reproach himself with. If he were threatened with torture, which appears very doubtful, it was only on one occasion, for Braëm was not authorised to do so; and it is not true that the instruments were prepared.[61]
Struensee's firmness, there is little doubt, was based on an opinion which for some time past had formed his sole security; he had persuaded himself that no one would dare to attack the person of the queen, and that the closer he connected his fate with that of Caroline Matilda, the less risk he would himself run. When he learnt that his protectress was herself arrested, his firmness abandoned him: he was troubled, and burst into tears: he deplored his misfortune in attracting insults and disgrace on the persons to whom he was most attached, and, conscious of his weakness, he implored his judges to allow him to return to his prison, that he might regain his calmness, and stanch his tears. The judges were careful not to let this moment of victory slip: they pressed him more than ever; and what neither their questions nor threats could draw from the prisoner, they obtained from his weakness and emotion. He confessed that his familiarity with the queen had been carried to the fullest extent.[62]
It is more than possible that Struensee, in his terror and confusion, hoped to save his life by dragging the queen into the matter, falsely expecting thus to prevent an examination that must lead to scandal, and to escape with banishment. It is also probable that his crafty judges led him into this belief, and by insinuations induced him to betray the honour of a woman. But what man to whom honour was dear would have made such shameful confessions about a woman, which must not only dishonour her in the sight of all Europe, but infallibly cost her the throne? Whether, therefore, we should consider Struensee guilty or innocent of the crimes he confessed, his head from this moment belonged to the executioner, and by his own act he destroyed public sympathy with his fate.[63]
But Struensee degraded himself even more, if possible, by his ensuing confessions. When he had taken the first step, further avowals cost him nothing, and the whole story poured from his lips without restriction or reservation. His interrogatory affords details too precise and circumstantial to be reproduced here.[64] It results from it that the criminal relations between the queen and Struensee began in the spring of 1770, shortly before the Holstein tour.
It was important to know whether the king had kept entirely aloof from the queen, and what opinion should be formed about the legitimacy of the little princess, whom it was at first proposed to disinherit, and whom the courtiers called familiarly in January and February the "Mamselle." But the king had acknowledged her, and openly announced her birth to all the foreign courts. For this reason it was considered advisable not to stir the matter up.
When Struensee was asked who had helped the queen and him in carrying on their illicit connexion, and what confidants they had had, he replied that no one had served them in this matter, and that neither the queen nor he had confided it to any one: it was probable that he had spoken about it to Count Brandt; but he did not remember having confessed to him the exact state of affairs, as he was very cautious on this point.[65] The truth was, that the queen had first given him marks of her tenderness at a masked ball, but that their intimacy commenced at the Christiansborg Palace. To these confessions, which he attested by his signature, Struensee added:—
"He was forced to confess that through his conduct he had compromised the queen's reputation: that he was maintained in the same habits by circumstances, although he had often desired and sought means to prevent this inconvenience: that the conduct of the king and queen frequently had the effect of renewing appearances, from the fact of the queen ordering him to take steps which looked suspicious: that the king sent him to the queen at all hours, and with all sorts of messages: that the queen frequently asked for him and seized upon him, as he had already stated, proposing to him to go out with her, tête-à-tête, on foot, on horseback, or in a carriage: that he frequently proposed to her to take some one with them, especially females, and that for this object he encouraged several of the latter to mount their horses: that the queen had the custom of refusing everything: that he had been obliged to yield, lest he should lose her confidence: that he was thus placed in the alternative of ruining his fortunes, or succumbing to the will of the queen. In other respects he referred to the confession of the queen, as facts spoke so loudly against him, that even if he had not had culpable relations with her, appearances would condemn him."
Count Brandt was examined for the first time on February 22. He was perfectly calm, and answered the questions asked with a coolness which evidently showed that he considered himself entirely innocent. The chief charge against him naturally consisted of his assault on the sacred person of his Majesty, about which he spoke quite unreservedly, and penitently begged pardon for the insulting expressions with which he had challenged the king to wrestle.
As a reward for the explanations they had given, the two counts were allowed, on February 26, to have their six-weeks-old beards removed, which Brandt had previously attempted to do with a pair of snuffers. During this operation, the following precautions were used: the prisoner sat as far away from the wall as his chain admitted, so that he could not move one hand, while a turnkey held the other.
Struensee seems either to have made up his mind to the inevitable, or else to have accommodated himself to circumstances with remarkable easiness. He began to take his meals with something of an appetite. He breakfasted about nine, on coffee, rolls, and biscuits; at one he dined, took a glass of light wine, and a cup of coffee; drank tea about five or six, and perhaps ate a biscuit or two; he took no supper, but drank a glass of port wine and water. He was always very abstemious as to wines and spirits, at least after he was placed about the king. Everything furnished by the restaurateur for his use was carefully examined; even the bread was cut open, and the napkins shaken and held up to the light; and his meat was cut for him, as he was not allowed a knife, lest he might commit suicide.
It seems as if some remarks that were dropped during the examination soon reduced Brandt's hopes, for almost immediately after, he, by the advice of the commandant, requested the aid of a clergyman. On February 24, Hee, provost of the Navy church, was selected by the commission, and he paid the unhappy prisoner frequent visits. His exertions to convert the free-thinking count proved successful. Still the conversion did not seem to extend beyond Deism, for he would not listen to anything about the fall of man, original sin, and some other matters concerning religion.
Brandt had received an excellent education. He saw none but good examples in the house of his parents, who had chosen the best tutors to form his young heart for the fear of God. He himself was sensible of this in his prison, and assured Dean Hee that he very often had felt the power of the converting grace of God in his soul. He recollected more particularly the time when he was first admitted to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and added, that he could never forget the words of the clergyman, which made a great impression on his mind: "Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown." That he possessed an easily moved mind is proved by the fact that, in his conversations with the clergyman, he frequently burst into tears when the latter reproved him for his "former life and the depravity of his heart," and expounded to him the greatness of God's mercy. Hee was greatly troubled on hearing that so soon as his back was turned, Brandt used to relapse into his old levity. On upbraiding the prisoner with this, the latter said, humbly enough, that "it was possible such words might have escaped him, on account of the levity of his heart, but he hinted that some person or other, who wanted to bring such reports among the people, had given occasion for it, of which he made use while his heart was not upon its guard." Dr. Hee thought the best way of preventing this was by giving his penitent religious books to read, but the choice does not appear to have been very wise, for among them was "Hervey's Meditations." The tendency of this work was to render Brandt quite quiet, and the commandant spoke in the highest terms of his behaviour, which was most edifying. Still, I cannot help thinking that there was a certain amount of hypocrisy in the affair; at any rate, so long as Brandt thought there was a chance of saving his life. For instance, it seems rather outré to find the prisoner frequently taking up his chains and kissing them, to which he would say, "When I believed myself to be free, I was a miserable slave to my passions; and now that I am a prisoner, truth and grace have set me at liberty." Nor should much faith be placed in his denunciations of Voltaire, with which old advocate of Shaitan he had spent four days on his travels, and had heard nothing from him (as he said) save what could corrupt the heart and sound morals. Another curious bit Dr. Hee shall tell us in his own quaint language:—
"He spoke of Struensee, and said he was a man without any religion, who, from his infancy, according to his own confession, never had any impression or feelings of it. As to himself, he assured me that, though he had been far from being virtuous, yet he always entertained a secret reverence for religion, and had spoken several times about it to Struensee, in hopes of leading him to better sentiments, but he never would hear him. It appeared to me a little odd that the blind should thus have led the blind; I therefore made no answer, thinking it might, perhaps, be his self-conceit that made him speak so, or that he wanted me to entertain a better opinion of his errors than I had reason for: hence I would not tempt him to support an untruth by defending what he had told me."
Attention was also paid to the state of Struensee's soul. At first he declined to see any clergyman, but when the confession that decided his fate had been drawn from him, his persecutors resolved to send him ghostly counsel even against his will. The choice fell, as has been stated, on Dr. Münter, at that time provost of the German Peter's church in Copenhagen.
This worthy divine has left us an account of Struensee's conversion, which everybody used to read in the last century, but is utterly forgotten now. It is invaluable, however, for a proper comprehension of Struensee's character. In every page we seem to have before us a weak, sensual man, incapable of resisting any persevering pressure; incredulous through levity, purified by misfortune, sincerely converted, feeling the same contempt for the judgment of posterity as for that of his contemporaries; badly guided at the outset by too strict a father, but possessing excellent qualities, full of forgiveness for his pitiless enemies, and perfectly resigned. Over such a character a man like Münter soon gained the upper hand: he was a theologian, but would have made a first-rate lawyer, and at the same time a passionate Christian, who, while he believed that he was only labouring to save a wretch's soul, aided his implacable foes to consummate his ruin.
On March 1, Dr. Münter paid his first visit to Struensee's prison. When the count was informed of the clergyman's arrival, he inquired whether it was ordered, and on being answered in the affirmative, he endured the presence of the doctor. He welcomed him with a sour and gloomy countenance, in the attitude of a man who was prepared to receive many severe reproaches, and with a silence that showed contempt. But so soon as the clever Münter had told him that he was well aware of his obligations toward an unhappy man, and sincerely wished to make the visits he was ordered to pay him agreeable and useful, Struensee quitted his constrained attitude, and his countenance grew more serene. He offered the doctor his hand, and thanked him for the sympathy he took in his fate. The latter, in return, gave Struensee the assurance that he would say nothing that could offend him, and begged that if accidentally in the course of conversation a word might slip from him that appeared offensive, Struensee would overlook it.
"Oh, you may say what you please," the prisoner answered.
Münter repeated his assurance that he had no other design but that of being useful to his hearer, and for that reason requested his confidence, which he (Münter) would return with the most thankful friendship, even though Struensee in the beginning might take him for a weak and prejudiced man.
Struensee was moved by this assurance, and Münter continued:—
"If you desire to receive comfort from me, who am your only friend on earth, do not cherish that unhappy thought of dying like a philosophical hero."
To which the count replied:—
"In all my adversities, I have shown firmness of mind, and, agreeably to this character I hope I shall not die like a hypocrite."
"Hypocrisy," Münter said, "in such moments would be even worse than an affected firmness, though even this would be a kind of hypocrisy. In case of death, do not trust to your old resolution and compare your former adversities, which were, perhaps, nothing but sickness and distress, with that fate which is now ready to fall on you. But, perhaps, you entertain some hopes of saving your life?"
"No," Struensee said, "I flatter myself with no hopes at all."
"But you do not see death near you," the doctor urged; "you do not know the time when you shall leave this world. Suppose I were to tell you that you were to die to-day or to-morrow, would not your courage fail you?"
Struensee was silent, and Münter implored him to turn his entire attention to the important intent of their conversation, which was to prepare him for eternity. Then he added—
"But I must expect that we are not both of the same opinion in regard to the state of man after death; yet, though you might have persuaded yourself that there is no life to come, and, consequently, neither rewards nor punishments, I cannot help thinking that there was a time when you were fully convinced of it. Your inward feelings have frequently contradicted you. The thought of eternity frightened you, though, unfortunately, you had art enough to stifle it in the birth. However, it will always be out of your power to prove that there is no eternity."
Struensee listened attentively, but would not own that he ever had any inward impressions of immortality, or had been afraid of it. Perhaps he might have been, but he did not recollect. He owned that the thought that he should soon entirely cease to be, was disagreeable to him: it frightened him: he wished to live, even though it were with less happiness than he now enjoyed in his prison. But he did not find the thought of total annihilation so terrible, as he had noticed it was to many who entertained the same principles as himself. In conclusion, he remarked:—
"My opinion, which is opposed to yours, is so strongly woven into my sentiments: I have so many arguments in favour of it: I have made so many observations from anatomy and physic which confirm it: that I think it will be impossible for me to renounce my principles. This, however, I promise: that I will not wilfully oppose your efforts to enlighten me, but rather wish, as far as it lies in my power, to concur with you. I will not dissemble, but honestly tell you of what I am convinced, and of what I am not. I will deal with you openly: for such is my character, and my friends can bear witness to it."
At Münter's request Struensee then explained to him his religious principles, of which an account has already been given.
On this first visit, Münter did not press his penitent home, but as he observed that he was really very uneasy about some of his actions, he thought it proper to increase this uneasiness. With this view, he told the prisoner, as he took leave of him, that Count Bernstorff had died at Hamburg on February 18. Struensee exclaimed, with great emotion, "What! is he dead?" and seemed to shudder.
"Yes," Münter answered, "he is. His wisdom, religion, and piety have preserved to him the character of a great man to the last; and it is generally believed that the grief of his latter years has hastened his death."
As Münter said this, he looked at the prisoner with an air which the latter seemed to understand, for he blushed.
On his second visit, Dr. Münter strove to convince the count of the falsity of his system, that man was a mere machine. Struensee answered, that in his present situation his mind was neither composed nor serene enough to examine into the nature of his principles. Münter, however, would not allow himself to be foiled in this manner, but earnestly warned the prisoner that it was his ambition alone which prevented him from doing justice to truth.
"Oh!" said Struensee, "this inclination is gone, and I am now very little in my own eyes and how could I be ambitious in this place?"
Münter speedily discovered the tender side in his opponent. The thought of having dragged his friends and adherents into ruin with him grieved him most, and hence he found his only comfort in repentance. The doctor, consequently, had hardly touched on this topic, ere Struensee confessed to him with tears in his eyes, that he felt guilty in this respect. Münter confirmed him in his sorrow, hoping thus to induce him to speak about his other actions. He told him that, in order to qualify himself for God's mercy, it was necessary to search his former life, and to acknowledge his errors and crimes. Then, in order to hold up to him the necessity of repentance, Münter delineated to him the outlines of his character, as he had reason for thinking it to be.
"God," the doctor said, "has given you an uncommon understanding, and, as I believe, a good natural disposition of heart; but, through voluptuousness, ambition, and levity, you have corrupted yourself."
Struensee confirmed Münter's conjectures, and admitted that voluptuousness had been his chief passion, and had contributed most to his moral depravity.
At the seventh conference Dr. Münter thought it advisable to hand Struensee a letter from his parents, which he had kept in his pocket for several days. This letter is curious, as showing how far the idolatry of royalty was carried at that time. Struensee's crime was considered so horrible, that no one imagined that it could be pardoned. Even his parents, the letter shows, writing to him in his wretched dungeon, do not once testify a desire that his sufferings should be alleviated, or that he should be spared the death which he so justly merited. The body was surrendered to man, who must be inexorable; the only thing to be effected was the salvation of the soul. The letter was to the following effect:—
My Second Son!
I could wish that these lines, if possible, may reach you, that you may read and consider. The melancholy, grief, and anxiety of your parents on account of their sons, I am not able to express. Our eyes swim in tears day and night. Our souls cry for mercy to God without ceasing. But I will speak no more of this. There is but one thing that lies heavy on my mind, and that of your much afflicted mother. You know our sentiments. You know our intentions when we educated you. You remember how often and how seriously we inculcated this great truth, that godliness is profitable unto all things.
As often as I had occasion to speak to you, even then when you were in a public character, I reminded you of the omnipresent God, and exhorted you to be careful in preserving a good conscience. Your own heart will tell you how far you have lived up to the exhortations of your father.
Your parents have been in great anxiety about you for a long while. As we lead a retired life, and have very few acquaintances, and as you yourself have written nothing about your circumstances, the prayers and sighs of our straitened hearts have ascended to God in secret, and in our anxiety we cried that your soul might not be lost. Three different times, at Halle, Gedern, Altona, you were looked upon as a dead man by those who stood about your sick bed. God saved you, and preserved your life; certainly with the sole intention of preparing you, in this time of grace, for a happy eternity. The same is now the chief intention of your gracious Redeemer in your prison. You are His creature. He loves you. You are redeemed by the blood of Jesus. God is a reconciled Father. You are baptized in the name of the Trinity. He will make an everlasting covenant with you, and will not desist from doing good to you. Return to your God, my son. He will not hide His face of grace from you. Mind the voice of your conscience, and the conviction which the spirit of God produces in your soul. Pray to God that He may disclose to you the true inward state of your soul, that you, enlightened by God, may see how much you are corrupted. Employ the solitude you are now in to search your whole life in the sight of the omniscient God, that you may see how great and detestable your sins are. Do not flatter yourself. Be rigorous with yourself. Accuse yourself, and judge yourself before the tribunal of God, whilst you are still enjoying this time of grace.
When you shall feel your sins to be a heavy burden, your heart then will humiliate itself before God, you will pray for mercy, and you will seriously detest and abhor your transgressions. You will then see the just importance and necessity of the redemption of Christ. You then will take refuge in Him who receives sinners, who was made to be sin for us, who has paid the debts of our sins, and suffered their punishment, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him, and might have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace. Still the blood of Christ speaks for you. He that is merciful still stretches forth His hands. Without Jesus there is no salvation. He is the cause of it. Even for your sake He has received gifts. You may have in Him righteousness for your peace of mind, and for your sanctification. Oh that Jesus might be glorified in your heart! In Him we have happiness while we live, while we suffer, while we die, and after death.
Your mother sends her love to you. She weeps, she prays with me for our unfortunate sons. My son, my son, how deeply do you afflict us! Oh! could we but have this only comfort, that our sons turned with all their heart unto the Lord, and that we might with joy find them again in eternity before the throne of the Lamb!
Your crimes which brought you into prison are not properly and sufficiently known to us. What is talked of and read in public about you is of such a nature that your parents condemn and detest it. Oh! would to God that you had remained a physician! Of your rise to honours we were informed by the newspapers; but it was no matter of joy to us; we read it with grief. Oh! that you had kept, in all your transactions, a clear conscience, with much wisdom, piety, and humility, for the good of Denmark, and that you might have submitted with due subjection to all the commands of your sovereign. We cannot altogether judge of this matter for want of information. But know that, though we love our children, we nevertheless do not approve of their crimes, nor will we excuse or palliate them, or call them good; we rather hate all sins; detest, condemn, and abhor them; and praise God when He manifests His just wrath over the wicked, and shows His mercy to the penitent and the faithful. The Lord our God be your physician in your imprisonment, and cure thoroughly the wounds of your soul!
We, your parents, recommend you to the love of the Lord, who has mercy on you. May Jesus, who is a compassionate High Priest, remember you for good at the right hand of God, that you may receive mercy before the throne of grace, and be pardoned unto everlasting salvation. Yea, Jesus! Thou great friend of mankind, who wilt in nowise cast out him that comes to Thee, help parents and children to life everlasting.
I am, your heartily afflicted father,
Adam Struensee.Rendsburg, March 4, 1772.
Struensee took this letter with eagerness, and began reading it; but it is not surprising to find that he had not half finished it when he laid it down, weeping bitterly. Shortly after, he received a letter from his mother, written precisely in the same Calvinistic strain as that from his father, and not containing one single trait of that maternal affection so necessary under such trying circumstances.
At length, after twenty-one days' exertions, Struensee was so far converted, partly by reading the New Testament, Jerusalem and Gellert's works, and partly, also, by Münter's earnest exhortations, that he burst into the following penitent words:—
"I should be guilty of the greatest folly if I would not embrace Christianity with joy, when its arguments are so overbalancing, and when it breathes such general benevolence. Its effects upon my heart are too strong. Oftentimes I cannot help crying when I read the history of Christ. Even now I think with hope on my death. I have acquainted myself with its most terrifying circumstances. I do not know how I shall be when the awful hour arrives. At present, I am not uneasy about it; I find nothing that makes me anxiously wish for life. I will confidently expect forgiveness of my sins through Christ. And to you, my dear friend, I am infinitely obliged that you have brought me so far."
Struensee then expressed a wish that those friends of his who entertained the same sentiments as he had done on religious matters might also be brought to a sense of their errors; and he felt an especial interest in Brandt's fate. It was consequently arranged that Münter should bring Dean Hee to Struensee; and, when this took place a few days afterwards, the prisoner begged the latter to inform Brandt of his conversion. Shortly after, the dean delivered Brandt's answer, to the effect, "that he greatly rejoiced to hear of Struensee's conversion. For his own part, he found his only comfort in religion, and from his heart forgave Struensee for all that he had done to draw him into his misfortunes." Struensee was pleased to hear this, and from this period seemed to have his mind relieved of a great burden. Of the sincerity of his conversion the following passage seems to offer a convincing proof:—
"The Christian religion," Struensee said on one occasion, "is so engaging, that it must certainly please every one who is properly acquainted with it. We should see the best effects of it among the common people in reforming the world, if it were properly represented and rendered intelligible to the capacity of different sorts of people. They should be made sensible that in this life they could never be happier than by following the precepts of Christianity. Every one then would be convinced that, supposing even this religion to be a mistake, it must be such a one as contradicts entirely the nature of error and delusion, because it is the best and truest way of happiness. Every one would think it worth his while to maintain this opinion, and to propagate it.
"I wish you and other divines," he continued to Münter, "would write small pamphlets, to acquaint the people with the advantages of Christianity, which might be of greater service than preaching. In this manner Voltaire has written, as you are aware, innumerable little pieces against religion, which contain the same ideas over again under different titles, and in a different dress. Rational friends of Christianity should learn of him this method, by which he does much mischief, and apply it to better purposes. Voltaire boasts of having found out this method, as he says, to enlighten the world. I remember, that when I conversed with d'Alembert in Paris, he spoke in high terms of praise of this method, and admired Voltaire's wisdom on this point. However, I do not believe him to be the inventor of it. Perhaps he borrowed this way of spreading his principles from Christ himself, who taught truth, sometimes in parables, sometimes in questions and answers, sometimes in sermons."
When Struensee at length received permission to write, he drew up, after consulting with Münter, a description of his conversion, which, however, was in some passages quite confused, and far from clear. It is a further proof how greatly the mind of this naturally talented man was thrown off the balance by the awful position in which he found himself.
The examination of the other prisoners, and the hearing of the witnesses, took place alternately in the citadel and in the Christiansborg Palace. Professor Berger appeared at the bar on February 22, and so soon as he returned to prison he was allowed to be shaved and to eat with a knife and a fork. He was also granted a better room, was permitted to sleep in his own bed, was allowed tobacco, and to read books from his own library.
Justiz-rath Struensee passed his time in prison in playing at chess with the officers of the watch. After he had undergone an examination on March 7, the favour was also granted him of smoking a pipe, and drinking wine from his own cellar.
At last, on March 18, or two months after their arrest, came the turn of Colonel von Falckenskjold and Lieutenant-Colonel von Hesselberg to be examined. It has already been stated how scandalously these two gentlemen had been treated during their imprisonment at the main guard of the royal docks. Permission had been asked of Prince Frederick to have Falckenskjold removed to a more wholesome cell, but he refused it, and answered, with a jeering laugh, "A man who has fought with the Turks must be able to endure such a punishment." On the day of examination, the two prisoners were conveyed in litters to the citadel, but when they returned to prison they were allowed knives and forks, and freed from the constant presence of the officers of the guard in their room.
On March 25, Major-General Gude and Count Struensee were confronted. On the following day, Admiral Hansen and Lieutenant Aboe made their statements, and as Etats-rath Willebrandt had been taken ill, he was examined in his house by a special commission.
The investigation gradually assumed such immense proportions, that the sittings to examine the prisoners and witnesses could not be closed till the end of March, or for nearly two months and a half.
CHAPTER IX.
THE QUEEN'S TRIAL.
THE QUEEN'S LETTERS—AN EXTORTED CONFESSION—THE HIGH COURT OF INQUIRY—THE INDICTMENT—STATEMENT OF WITNESSES—REVOLTING DETAILS—AMATEUR DETECTIVES—THE MAIDS-IN-WAITING—FRAULEIN VON EYBEN—SENTIMENTS—PRESENTS—THE VERDICT DEMANDED.
When the new power was established in Copenhagen, a species of suite was appointed to wait on the unhappy Caroline Matilda, less in the quality of attendants than of spies and gaolers. The persons selected were Fräuleins von Sperling and Von Schmettau, Count Holstein zu Ledreborg, and Gentleman of the Bedchamber Von Raben, all persons who were disagreeable to her. Juliana Maria, who was nothing if not bigoted, at once set to work to provide spiritual assistance for her prisoner, and one Chemnitz, garrison preacher at Elsinore, with incredible ferocity insulted, in the name of Heaven, a princess who was already so unhappy. He chose as his text the following verses from Isaiah, chapter xiv.:—
"And the people shall take them, and bring them to their place: and the house of Israel shall possess them in the land of the Lord for servants and handmaids: and they shall take them captives, whose captives they were; and they shall rule over their oppressors.
"And it shall come to pass in the day that the Lord shall give thee rest from thy sorrow, and from thy fear, and from the hard bondage wherein thou wast made to serve.
"That thou shalt take up this proverb against the king of Babylon, and say, How hath the oppressors ceased! the golden city ceased!"
Another preacher, Hansen, who was appointed to the same duty on alternate days with Chemnitz, derived, from chapter lxiii. of the same prophet, the subject of an even more cruel insult:—
"Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel, and thy garments like him that treadeth in the winefat?
"I have trodden the winepress alone; and of the people there was none with me: for I will tread them in mine anger, and trample them in my fury; and their blood shall be sprinkled upon my garments, and I will stain all my raiment.
"For the day of vengeance is in mine heart, and the year of my redeemed is come."
Neither of these clerical ruffians was either punished or even reprimanded for his shameless audacity.
At first, the royal prisoner was confined on the ground floor of the castle, the windows being lined with iron bars; she was strictly guarded, none but her watchers being allowed to have access to her. In February, she received another heavy blow on hearing of the death of her beloved mother, and, in her agony, wrote the two following letters, which she contrived by some means to send out of the castle:—
To Sir Robert Keith, Envoy of Great Britain.
From the first day of my iniquitous arrest and severe captivity, I foresaw that the rage of my enemies would insist on the loss of my liberty and life. I am perfectly resigned to my fate either way; but the thought of my reputation being tarnished and my dear children abandoned to the mercy of a people unjustly prejudiced against the legitimacy of their birth, overwhelms me with the most pungent grief. Has the king, my brother, then abandoned me? Great God! will no one, then, avenge my innocence and my memory? I doubt whether my merciless Arguses will suffer this letter to reach you; in case you receive it, contrive to do me all the good offices in your power. I shall never forget the zeal which you have testified in the cause of innocence; and if ever Heaven should restore me to the rank and pre-eminence from which I have been so unjustly degraded, you shall have more convincing proofs of my gratitude. Oh! were I in England, my dear country, where the meanest criminal has the privilege of being tried by his peers! Am I forgot by the whole universe? I am greatly fallen away, and my health is much impaired since I have been immured within these walls. There is not a single person about me whom I do not suspect; and I despair of ever recovering my liberty. For the love of God, endeavour to visit me. The time approaches when my trial will take place; but I am apprehensive my sentence is already determined. I pray God that He will take you under his holy protection.[66]
Matilda.
The queen wrote about the same time another letter to the king, which, of course, never reached its destination, though a copy of it was fortunately preserved:—
Sire,
If justice and humanity still dwell in your royal breast, I have an undoubted right, as your most injured wife, to claim your Majesty's protection from this vale of misery. Your honour is impeached as well as my virtue; if the sense of both cannot inspire you with tender feelings for my inexpressible woes and the indignities offered to supreme authority by the most flagitious combination of all the engines the blackest calumnies could play to blast my innocence and reputation, I appeal to your Majesty's own conviction of my spotless and inviolable fidelity. I do not entreat mercy, but I demand justice. Were your heart callous to my inexpressible sufferings, sure what you owe to yourself and the dear pledges of conjugal affection should call for the utmost exertion of your power to maintain your prerogative, which has been so daringly encroached upon, and to avenge the outrages I have been forced to submit to, by an unparalleled confederacy of traitors determined to snatch the sceptre from your hands, and to sacrifice your guiltless consort and your progeny to their wicked ambition. I wish for a fair trial, and that I may face and confound my accusers. To the Supreme Judge, who knows all hearts and all motives, I submit the justice of my cause.
Matilda.
On March 8, 1772, the commission appointed by the new authorities, acting in the name of a king without a will, arrived at the fortress of Kronborg for the purpose of examining the queen. It consisted of two members of the lately-established privy council, Count Thott and Schack Rathlau, and two members of the committee of investigation, Actuary of the Supreme Court Baron Juel-Wind, and Stampe, Attorney-General of the Danish Chancery; that is to say, of opponents of the fallen minister, and zealous participators in the conspiracy.
This composition of the commission justifies the supposition that it was solely intended to extort from the unhappy queen a confirmation of the confession made by Struensee on February 21, of improper intercourse with her, and thus afford an excuse to the English court for the way in which she had been treated.
According to Reverdil, Colonel Keith had contrived to warn Caroline Matilda beforehand of the impending arrival of the commission, and to advise her conduct. She would receive these pretended judges with kindness and dignity, like subjects who had come to pay their court to their sovereign. If they afterwards attempted to interrogate her, she would act wisely in merely saying that she had no answer to give them, and that she recognised no superior, or judge, but her husband.
Thus forewarned, the queen, whose heroic soul had not been bowed down by a succession of agonising days spent in the most miserable solitude and the most torturing suspense, received the commissioners with a calm dignity, in which her strength of mind was fully displayed. The complicated and crafty questions asked her had no power to confuse her senses; her answers were noble, short, and, accurate; she declared that she had nothing to reproach herself with, and caused the commissioners the utmost embarrassment by her steady and unexpected behaviour. When the crafty Schack lost all hope of overcoming the queen's mind, he fancied that her heart would not have the strength to withstand a similar attack. In order, therefore, to obtain the confession which was required for the predetermined condemnation of the queen, he employed a villanous device which will brand his name for ever. He was no longer the noble-minded man who, once on a time, preferred to sacrifice rank, prestige, and fortune, sooner than remain in a council whose traditional authority had been degraded; he was now a crawling courtier, who allowed himself to be used for anything, so long as favour, power, or money was promised him; who had lost all his strength of mind, and no longer possessed any marked character, but could only flatter the powerful, defy the weak, and deceive the good hearted. A long and painful illness had weakened his intellect; the vexations of a hampered fortune had rendered him selfish, and deprived him of all respect from those of noble mind; and, on this occasion, he put the final touch to his character.[67]
Schack Rathlau hastened to inform the queen that their next proceeding would be to lay before her Majesty Struensee's confessions, and to request her confirmation of them; after which he read to her the original document signed by the unfortunate man.
Blushing with anger at the accusation it contained, the queen indignantly denied everything, and declared the impossibility of Struensee having made such statements, as they were utterly false!
Schack Rathlau presented the damning paper, so that the queen might herself read it, and be convinced of Struensee's autograph. She rejected it with scorn, but took a searching glance at the signature, and to her horror recognised the well-known hand. Schack, noticing the betrayed queen's embarrassment, thought the moment favourable to complete her temptation. With a reverential bow he advanced a step nearer, and said, as if disgusted by the false charge:
"Si l'aveu de M. Struensee n'est point vrai, Madame, alors il n'y a pas de mort assez cruelle pour ce monstre qui a osé vous compromettre à ce point."
Caroline Matilda, who had been kept in utter ignorance of all that was taking place in Copenhagen, and probably had formed no idea of the deadly peril impending over her ex-cabinet secretary, fell back into her chair on hearing Schack Rathlau's fearful menace: honour and feeling contended powerfully in her breast, while the inquisitor eagerly tried to read the effect of these words of terror on the queen's countenance. At length, she regained some slight composure, and looking Schack firmly in the face, asked:
"Mais si j'avouais les mots de Struensee, pourrais-je sauver sa vie par là?"
Schack Rathlau—it is hard to say whether he believed in the probability of such a rescue, or merely in his legal arrogance triumphed at the palpable result of his menace—answered, with brazen brow:
"Surement, Madame, cela pourrait adoucir son sort de toute manière."
Saying this, he spread out the prepared document, containing the confirmation of Struensee's confession for the queen to sign.
"Eh bien, je signerai," the unfortunate lady said, as she seized the pen eagerly offered by Schack Rathlau, and appended her signature. She had hardly done so, however, when the consciousness of her want of caution and precipitation so affected her, that she sank back on the sofa in a fainting state.[68] The commissioners, however, hastened back to Copenhagen in great delight with the decisive document.
After ninety-two years posterity gazes with compassion on the historical picture of the royal martyr who, in the first bloom of youth, fettered through political motives to a husband, from whom all eyes were averted with feelings of anger and disgust, certainly committed no other crime than that of taking pleasure in the society of the only man who seemed her sincere friend, a man who had a heart for her connubial sufferings, who ever tried to alleviate them, and to whom alone she dared impart her wrongs. The confirmation of this truth must be left to the poor betrayed martyr herself. Still, for a proper comprehension of the cabal against her, one fact, speaking decidedly for the queen's innocence, may be quoted, in which a plausible explanation of Struensee's otherwise inexplicable conduct can be found:
"On avait dit à Struensee qu'il se sauverait en compromettant la reine, dont la conduite ne pouvait être l'objet d'une condamnation juridique, ou même d'un procès criminal, et on avoit ajouté à ce motif le menace de la torture."[69]
The twofold treachery explained by this passage hardly requires comment. To overthrow Struensee was not sufficient, as the queen might have regained her authority over her husband. Hence, Caroline Matilda must be destroyed, and though the Lex Regia expressly prohibited the judges from trying matters of high treason, the new authorities did not care for that.
Immediately after the return of the commissioners from their successful expedition, a General Commission, consisting of no less than thirty-four members, was appointed as a Supreme Court to pass sentence in the cause of the king against the queen. The court was composed of—the Bishop of Seeland and four other clerical councillors: the four ministers, Counts von Thott and Osten, Baron von Schack Rathlau and Admiral Römeling: the members of the commission, to whom the trial of the other prisoners had up to the present been entrusted: the other members of the Supreme Court not belonging to the commission: two officers of the army and two of the navy: several councillors of state and one of the civic authorities.
The court opened its session on March 16, in the audience hall of the Exchequer. A royal order appointed Bang, lawyer in the Court of Exchequer, to undertake the king's cause, and Uldall, of the Supreme Court, that of the queen. Both the judges and the lawyers were released from their oath of allegiance during the trial.
In his indictment of March 24, Bang demanded that her Majesty Queen Caroline Matilda, by virtue of par. v. of the xvi. cap. of section 3 of the code of Christian V. should be condemned as guilty of having broken her marriage vows with his Majesty King Christian VII., and that the latter might be at liberty to form another alliance.[70]