This gentleman, one of the principal performers in the coming tragedy, was descended from the oldest family in Holstein. His father, who had been raised to the dignity of Count of the Empire, in 1728, by the Emperor Charles VII., possessed the large estates of Ascheberg and Breitenburg in Holstein, Lindau and others in Schleswig. His son, Shack Karl, was born on March 11, 1717. At the age of eighteen, he was captain in an infantry regiment, and afterwards removed to the Grenadiers. In 1746, he became a chamberlain; and after being attached, in 1750, to the crown prince's regiment as brevet colonel, he was promoted to be full colonel of the regiment in 1752. In the following July he was appointed a major-general, but dismissed two days after.
Rantzau went to France, and served under Maréchal de Löwendal; but, one fine day, he left his regiment in order to attach himself to the car of an Italian singing woman. During his amorous odyssey, he passed through all sorts of adventures, and assumed all sorts of shapes, like a veritable Proteus. At one time, he appeared with all the splendour becoming his birth and condition; at another, he lived at Rome in a monk's gown. For some time, he remained incognito with a troupe of comedians. During this career he often ran short of money, and at times procured it how he could. He was tried criminally in Sicily for swindling; and, at Naples, the French envoy had to hush up an ugly matter in consideration of his family. At Genoa, he impudently drew a bill on his father, "the Viceroy of Norway," though his father was only a plain country gentleman, and had turned him up long before.
In 1761, on the death of Elizabeth, when a war was anticipated between Russia and Denmark, Rantzau had the impudence to offer his services to Peter III. as a Holstein gentleman who had a right to serve his duke. His offer was spurned, and Rantzau swore revenge. He wormed himself into the confidence of the Empress Catharine and Count Orloff; and was mixed up in the conspiracy against Peter III. As he was coldly treated, and passed over instead of being rewarded when Catharine ascended the throne, he returned to Holstein very angry, and brooding over revenge. It was at this period that his fatal connection with Struensee commenced, as we have seen.
Soon after the death of Frederick V., Rantzau acquired the favour of Count St. Germain, who was omnipotent at court; and the latter procured him the rank of Lieutenant-General in 1766, and, in the following year, the chief command of the Norwegian army. He behaved in a very reckless manner, and was suddenly dismissed from active service in 1768, after Bernstorff and Saldern had succeeded in removing St. Germain from his post as generalissimo of the army and head of the War Office.[112] After this, Rantzau returned to Holstein, where he inherited the family estates, on the death of his father, in 1769.
Through his marriage with the eldest daughter of his uncle, Count Rantzau Oppendorf, Count Shack had taken a step by which to unite the estates of the two families; but he led a most licentious life, which resulted in a divorce, and his poor wife fell into a state of melancholy bordering on mania. All sorts of gallant adventures had entangled him in duels, and he had killed several of his opponents. A respected man, whose daughter he seduced, also challenged him, and was shot by him. Rantzau was inconsolable at this, begged the widow's forgiveness on his knees, married her seduced daughter with the left hand, and settled a large annuity on the mother and her remaining children. But time and fresh love affairs removed the impression which this sad event had made on the gay gentleman, and he soon returned to his former licentious life. His extravagance was so great that he was said to have lit his pipe with 10-dollar notes at some gay parties. But he was a very kindly landlord to his serfs, so that they positively adored him, and venerated him as a father.[113]
Though the negotiations for this man's return to court were kept very secret by the queen's party, they did not escape Bernstorff, who saw the black clouds that announced his fall continually drawing nearer. The premier was sincerely attached to the Russian court, and had in his day effected Rantzau's downfall. Hence he addressed the king in writing, and called his attention to the displeasure which Rantzau's recall would arouse in Petersburg. The contents of the letter were imparted to Rantzau, who, in consequence, promised not to interfere in the negotiations with the Russian court about the exchange of provinces. As Bernstorff could no longer prevent the count's return to the service of the state, he exerted himself to reduce the ill-impression it must produce in Russia, and thus the last obstacle was removed from Rantzau's path.[114]
Unfortunately, Rantzau, during his residence at Petersburg, and through the part he played there, had an opportunity to learn secrets and witness actions which enabled him to regard the Russian court from a point of view which it desired to conceal eternally from the sight of the world. This was the reason why the Russian empress could never forgive Caroline Matilda and her adviser Struensee for recalling this man to favour.[115]
While the king and queen were at Traventhal, Rantzau was introduced to them, and had the honour of receiving a visit from them at Ascheberg, where he did everything in his power to divert his exalted guests. Each day had its special festivities and amusements: music, hunting, fishing, sailing on the lake, and rustic sports, which, more than any other pastime, pleased the imbecile king. The queen, fully satisfied with the respect that Count Rantzau had shown her, and little dreaming of the share her attentive host was to have in her fall, gave him a superb snuff-box set with brilliants, which had cost her husband a thousand guineas in London.
All the efforts made to amuse Christian met with but slight success, for he seemed to be sunk in thought, and everything that went on around him, the numerous changes of situation and persons, no longer produced any interest for him. The effects of former excesses on his frail constitution became but too evident, while his mental abilities only shone forth now and then in the shape of satire. One day, at Traventhal, when Christian had been bothered with signing the commissions of a number of new conference councillors, and the matter was talked about at dinner, the king turned to his favourite dog, Gourmand, lying at his feet, and said, "Can you bark?" And when the dog, on whose paws Christian trod, began barking and growling, his master said, "Well, as you can bark, you can be a conference councillor too;" after which he rose from his seat, and proposed the health of the new Councillor Gourmand, to which the whole court responded, in accordance with etiquette. Not satisfied with this, the king insisted on the same salary being paid Gourmand as his human colleagues. This joke was a bitter pill for Struensee's pride, for the Holck faction continually addressed the dog as Conferentie Raad, in mockery of the favourite's new-horn honours.
The recall of Count Rantzau-Ascheberg to court on the part of the queen and Struensee was only carried out, in all probability, in order to secure their own position and that of the new household. According to Reverdil, the latter was very badly selected; two ladies of notorious gallantry, Von Bülow and Von Gähler, were appointed in waiting, and the manners of the court were of such a free and easy nature, that even old Rantzau was surprised at it. "When I was extravagant," he said, "everybody else was respectable; now that age has regulated my heart and my conduct, everybody has gone mad. I fell with a great man, and return with a few scamps." Struensee had, in truth, already commenced his deplorable system of rendering the court bourgeoise, and keeping the nobility aloof. He forgot that in this way he increased the number of his enemies. Up to this time, however, the favourite had formed no settled plan of action against the ministry. The queen herself had not the slightest wish to mix herself up in the affairs of government, and even though Struensee possessed sufficient self-confidence, and felt himself strong enough to overthrow Bernstorff and the old noble party in the council of state, he was still uncertain about the consequences of Rantzau's return, as he was well acquainted with his ambition. But long before his appointment at court, Struensee had been prejudiced against the government, and had probably just heard from Rantzau and Brandt reports, in whose trustworthiness he could rely. What he afterwards witnessed in Copenhagen only confirmed what he had heard. The principal charge he brought against the ministers was, that they purposely sought to turn the king against any participation in government business, by producing unnecessarily dry and formal documents, and drawing up the papers laid before him for decision in a diffuse and perplexing manner. They rarely left the king a choice between two alternatives; but persuaded him to sanction the resolution on which they had decided beforehand.