On June 9, 1770, the Dowager Princess of Wales set out with her son, the Duke of Gloucester, and a numerous retinue from Carlton House en route for the Continent. As this was the first time during thirty-four years that her royal highness had quitted England, her departure gave rise to the wildest conjectures among her opponents. As mystery and policy were imputed to all her motives by the so-called liberal party, her declaration, straightforward though it was, that she was going to visit her brother and her daughters, was not believed. Some said that she was going to meet Lord Bute, while others expected that some coup d'état was about to be carried out during her absence, to which she might plead not having been privy. As the Duke of Gloucester accompanied her, more charitable persons supposed that she was trying to break off his liaison with Lady Waldegrave; others, or the uncharitable, declared that the princess was displeased with the increasing powers of the queen, her daughter-in-law, while others again supposed that she was conveying her treasures out of the country for safety.
The resolute old lady cared little what was said about her, and, though she was hooted as she passed through Canterbury, I dare say her feeling was, "laudatur ab hiss." She was allowed to embark quietly at Dover, and, much to Walpole's affected surprise, no bonfires or illuminations took place in London in honour of her departure. The princess ostensibly wanted to see her daughter, the Princess of Brunswick, probably for some little family intrigue; but the journey was really intended to the address of Caroline Matilda. Some good-natured friend had told George III. an exaggerated story about his sister's conduct; and this, together with the political crisis which was preparing in Denmark, led to the Princess of Wales's journey. In those benighted days it was considered of the utmost importance by English ministers that Bernstorff should remain in power, because he was devoted to Russia, and thus prevented a Gallo-Danish alliance.
It was arranged that the Princess of Wales and her daughter should meet at Brunswick, and the ducal court made great preparations to receive the exalted guests worthily, but at the moment when the King and Queen of Denmark were expected, the grand marshal arrived with news that Queen Matilda was unwell and unable to travel. I can hardly think that her illness was of a very serious nature, or lasted any length of time. The court usually played cards at Traventhal till midnight, and were out riding by five in the morning, for the days seemed too short for pleasure.
However this might be, the Princess of Wales would not be disappointed, and proposed a second meeting at Lüneburg, a town much nearer Denmark than Brunswick was. The King and Queen of Denmark arrived, their suite only consisting of Struensee and Warnstedt, who were seated in the carriage with them. They arrived late and tired; when the princess addressed her daughter in English, a language which Struensee did not understand, the queen pretended to have forgotten it. The conversation was cold and constrained; they retired to bed at an early hour, met again at eleven A.M., and parted again in the afternoon. Caroline Matilda did the civil thing by asking her mother and brother to pay a visit to Copenhagen, which was declined politely, and they never met again.[118]
Horace Walpole, who reminds me greatly of Father Holt, in "Esmond," who wished to be supposed omniscient, but was every now and then detected in some jumbling details which destroyed his claim to authenticity, describes the interview between mother and daughter with as much circumstantiality as if he had been present. He says, that when the princess lamented the fall of Bernstorff, the old servant of the family, the Queen of Denmark said, "Pray, madam, allow me to govern my kingdom as I please." Unfortunately for the story, Bernstorff had not yet been overthrown. However, I dare say that some conversation did take place about the premier, and that Caroline Matilda showed her hand too openly.
The Princess of Wales returned to England, after requesting Mr. Woodford, her son's minister in Lower Saxony, who was at Lüneburg, to seek an opportunity for insinuating a portion of what she had intended to say to her daughter. Another minister, who passed through Copenhagen on his way to Sweden, having been intrusted by the King of England with some remonstrances for his sister, was not admitted. This monarch, also, wrote the most earnest letters: the first was very coldly received, and the rest not even read. We see that everybody had entered into a conspiracy to misunderstand Caroline Matilda's motives, and attribute the lowest of causes to her intimacy with Struensee; even her own family, who should have known her better, believed that in so short a time she had forgotten the lessons of her youth, and would not see that she was forced into her present position, because her pride would not allow her to be dictated to by the ministers, and insulted by foreign envoys. Because she selected the only man as an ally whom she thought she could take without danger, she was accused of forgetting her marriage vows, and no one would give her credit for more exalted motives. Had George III. been able to draw a distinction between the lover and the friend, he should have rejoiced at the intimacy between his sister and Struensee, because the latter was determined to break the power of Russia in Denmark; but he was a man of low birth, and naturally such a person could only be favoured by a queen through the very lowest of motives.[119] Perhaps, though, in those days when virtue was considered a most troublesome attribute, King George can hardly be blamed for the opinion which he formed of his sister's conduct. In fact, the king's own truthfulness and rectitude were very injurious to Caroline Matilda. He believed what he was told, and remonstrated with his sister instead of examining into the reports more closely, while she, naturally offended that her brother dared to insult her by entertaining such suspicions, neglected all prudence, and rendered the breach between them irreparable.
From Lüneburg, the royal couple hastened back to Copenhagen, and proceeded, on August 24, to the palace of Frederiksborg. This palace, which was burnt down in January, 1860, was the Versailles of Denmark, and erected by Christian IV. from 1606-1620. It was built on three small islets connected by bridges, in a lake, and the chief wing so completely covered this island, that it seemed to rise directly from the water. In one of the state rooms leading to the royal closet in the chapel, Caroline Matilda wrote with a diamond, upon the window, the touching words,
"Oh, keep me innocent, make others great."
The country around the palace is remarkably fine, and the drives and walks through the forest are beautiful.[120] It is not surprising, therefore, that the queen should make it her favourite residence, owing to her love of exercise and privacy.
That the residence of the royal couple at Traventhal was not devoted to frivolous orgies, as the enemies of the queen and Struensee, and even her princely brother-in-law at Gottorp asserted, has been sufficiently proved. On the contrary, the time was employed in meditating the mode of carrying out great reforms, though what extent they would have depended on the future. The condition of the king was now of such a sad nature that he helplessly signed the orders laid before him for his assent. Struensee was the only man who was still able to make the king form a resolution by his quiet remarks, and the stay at Frederiksborg, away from the seat of government, was purposely selected, in order to carry through the reforms already arranged with the queen, without any external opposition, and to bring them to the knowledge of the public. Count Rantzau-Ascheberg had, in the meanwhile, preceded the returning court, and arrived at Copenhagen by August 14. Two days after his arrival in the capital, he was appointed third deputy of the War Department. It can hardly be believed that he had done so much to obtain so little: indeed, it had been at first arranged that he should be placed at the head of this department by the retirement of his two seniors, but one of them was Gähler, the husband of the pretty and docile woman who had become so necessary at court, and the other was an old friend of the queen. Rantzau also retained the command of the queen's regiment, and was likewise appointed on the 29th of the same month commandant of Glückstadt, though he remained in Copenhagen. Still, it was a great error on the part of Struensee to have placed so ambitious a man as Rantzau in such a subaltern position, and it proved that he possessed but little common sense or knowledge of the human heart. In politics it is wrong to be ungrateful, and more especially to be so by halves. After what had passed, Rantzau could no longer remain indifferent, and a man of that character does a great deal of evil or a great deal of good. Therefore, he ought to have been appointed minister, or else exiled.[121]