"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.