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.