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.