Though the Princess of Wales constantly read all the public papers till within a few weeks of her death, the unmerited abuse with which they teemed never excited in her the least emotion of anger or resentment; nor was she ever heard to speak disparagingly of any individual. She was steady in her friendships, and so indulgent a mistress to her servants, that she was ever anxious to give them as little trouble as possible. Her understanding was clear and solid; her temper even, serene, and placid, and her religion real and unaffected, which enabled her to meet death with a truly Christian resignation. To the very last minute of her life she was sensible and composed, and gave apparent signs of satisfaction at the truly filial concern which the royal pair displayed, and the great attention they paid her in her last extremity. A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine sums up the character of the Princess of Wales so fairly, that I am tempted to extract the concluding passage:—
"In her royal highness we have a striking instance of the instability of human happiness. Many now alive can remember her the happiest of wives and mothers, and universally beloved, as our good queen now is. She was for many years the very idol of the people of England; and, without any blame on her part, she has been publicly and repeatedly traduced beyond all example. She has long been bereaved of the best of husbands: (?) has outlived several of her children, and has had the recent mortification of seeing one marry indiscreetly, another languishing under a dangerous illness, and a third a prisoner in a distant kingdom. Overwhelmed with these accumulated misfortunes, and struggling with bodily distempers, Heaven, as a reward for her pure and virtuous conduct in every relation in life, has graciously and seasonably delivered her from the sorrows of this mortal state to the mansions of endless felicity, where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest."
One of the most unfortunate results of the death of the Princess of Wales in this crisis of affairs was, that the crafty Von der Osten had time to persuade the King of England that this affair was not one of those which ought to be treated by ministers as between nations; that it was personal; that his brother, the King of Denmark, would write to him in his own hand, and that his Britannic Majesty should reply in the same way. George III., who was so honest as to believe everybody, fell into the trap so artfully laid for him.
On February 28, Lord Suffolk, the foreign secretary, sent despatches to Colonel Keith, adding to them a personal letter, in which he expressed the king's satisfaction at the ability, spirit, and dignity the envoy had displayed, and enclosing the Order of the Bath as a reward. From Danish accounts I learn that George III. replied to Christian's letter, that what had happened grieved him deeply, but he hoped that justice would be observed, and every possible indulgence shown.
With this letter Sir R. M. Keith proceeded to demand a private audience of the King of Denmark, and a day being appointed for the purpose, the envoy, on entering the ante-chamber, was much surprised at seeing, instead of the king, some members of the council of state, who intimated to him that his Majesty, not being very well, had charged them to receive what the envoy had to communicate, and they would inform him of it. Sir R. Keith replied, that the orders he had received from his master were to speak to the king in person, and not to his ministers; and that he was not a little surprised that after his Danish Majesty had consented to give him the audience he requested, he should refer him to his ministers. He then added, that he should not fail to inform his royal master of what had occurred, and retired extremely dissatisfied. As he went, Sir Robert fired a parting shot, to the effect that if the Queen of Denmark was not treated with the respect due to her birth and rank, the king, his master, would not fail to resent it.
Keith, doubtless, informed George III. of the results of this interview, and opened his eyes as to the jugglery that had been practised. Consequently, subsequent despatches from England assumed a more earnest character, and, finally, even contained menaces. At the same time, however, George III. remained true to his word, and said that he would not interfere in the matter, so far as it affected the marriage of Christian VII. with his sister. Hence he consented to the arrest of the queen and her long imprisonment during the trial, but refused to sanction any further or life imprisonment of the accused princess.
There is but little to be learnt from the English papers as to the progress of the negociations. It would appear as if Baron Dieden, the Danish envoy at St. James's, was left without instructions for a time, as he shut himself up in his house till he received commands as to his future conduct. Perhaps fear had something to do in the matter, for Reverdil, who was then in London, states that an anonymous letter was sent the envoy, to the effect that he must answer personally for the safety of the queen. When Dieden finally made his appearance at court, George III. would not speak to him, and the minister took his revenge by standing out of the circle, and laughing impertinently at the king to the Prussian minister.[58]
In the absence of settled news, the gentry, who occupied themselves with writing letters to the papers, had a splendid time of it. The ball was opened by that three-decker Junius, who discharged a double-shotted battery into Lord North. After the usual denunciations of the minister, which the latter probably regarded with his usual pachydermatous indifference, Junius proceeds as follows:—
"An insignificant northern potentate is honoured by a matrimonial alliance with the King of England's sister. A confused rumour prevails that she has been false to his bed: the tale spreads, a particular man is pointed at as the object of her licentious affections. Our hopeful ministry, however, are quite silent: despatches, indeed, are sent off to Copenhagen, but the contents of those despatches are so profound a secret, that with me it almost amounts to a question, whether you yourself know anything of the matter."