The bomb-ketches intended to be sent against Algiers were not yet finished, and the sailors brought from Norway to man them roamed about the capital in idleness; moreover, the government neglected to pay them. The political creed of the Norwegians at that time was composed of two dogmas:—first, that the king is never unjust; secondly, that the king must be blindly obeyed, provided that the order emanate from him. The corollary was, that acts of injustice were committed by the king's subordinates, and that by application to their master redress was certain.[4]
As early as June 10 many ship-carpenters had struck work, after in vain asking double wages for working on Sunday, which was considered necessary to get the fleet off. Two days after this event, a squadron of dragoons was posted in front of Hirschholm Palace; but, as no further excesses occurred, this picket was removed toward the end of July. On September 10, however, a band of from two hundred to three hundred sailors set out for Hirschholm; they had been waiting eight weeks for their pay, were almost starving, and had sent in repeated petitions, to which no answer was returned. As they now saw that no relief was to be obtained in this way, they formed the bold resolution of laying their request before the king personally.
When they arrived in the vicinity of the palace, a naval officer went to ask them what they wanted? "We wish to speak to our father," was the reply; "he shall hear us, and help us." The aide-de-camp hastened with this message back to the palace, but the whole court had already fled by a back-door to the estate of Sophienberg, about two miles distant. Here the question was discussed between the queen, Struensee, Brandt, Falckenskjold, and Bülow, whether the flight should be continued to Elsinore. At this moment the sailors arrived here, and demanded speech with the king. They were answered that the king was out hunting, but the intruders did not believe it, and were preparing to force their way into the palace, when Colonel Numsen came up with a troop of dragoons and tried to drive them back. The sailors laid their hands on their knives, and declared they would defend themselves if the soldiers attacked them. Fortunately, some firmer and wiser gentlemen represented that the men did not look like insurrectionists, and that by signifying to them from the king through a naval aide-de-camp that they must return and justice would be dealt them, an odious and sanguinary scene, perhaps a real sedition, would be avoided. On the pledge of the aide-de-camp the sailors went back to Copenhagen as peacefully as they had come, and the court returned to the summer residence. Still, the alarm the sailors had caused lasted all night, because everybody felt persuaded that they would return furious and better armed.
The queen ordered that her horses should be kept in readiness; she went to bed bare-headed and in disorder, had her riding-habit laid in readiness by her side, and a moment after rose hurriedly to have her jewellery packed up. She also requested a colonel, in whom she placed confidence, to sleep at the palace. The dragoons, however, who patrolled all night, discovered nothing, and so the court became calm, and did their best to hide the fright they had suffered.
Struensee gave way; the sailors on their arrival in Copenhagen were treated with spirits, and temporarily appeased by a payment on account, while the whole arrears were paid up a few days later. The chief of the naval division, however, to which they belonged, Herr von Rumohr, was dismissed the service, on the charge of not having attempted to quell the tumult.
The bad example which the Norwegian sailors had given, and the fact that they were not punished for it, soon induced other men to bring forward less just claims in a similar way. A fortnight later, some one hundred and twenty silk weavers proceeded from Copenhagen to Hirschholm to complain that they were starving, because the royal silk factories had been closed. This request was also taken into consideration by the alarmed court, and an order was issued to continue the work in the factories till the men obtained other employment. As these demonstrations, however, raised apprehension of others, from this time guards were posted round the palace, the manège, and the palace gardens, by Falckenskjold's advice, which naturally led to many bitter comments.
But the greatest fear was entertained at court about the dockyard-men, who were known to be still angry at their exclusion from the king's birthday rejoicings, and the loss of their perquisites. In addition to the sailors obtained expressly from Norway, there were generally five thousand more in Copenhagen, divided into five detachments, of ten companies each; some were intended to man the ships, while others were employed as carpenters, caulkers, and labourers of every description in the navy dockyards. These men were also dissatisfied with the new regulations introduced in the yards, as in every other department, and it was consequently resolved to give them a "festival of reconciliation," for which September 29 was selected. When the day arrived, all the dockyard-men went in procession, with their wives and children, to the riding-school of Frederiksberg Palace, where they were to be regaled in the open air. Of course a roast ox again formed the staple dish; but as it was not sufficient to fill all the empty stomachs, six sheep, twelve pigs, and an infinity of geese, ducks, and fowls, were also roasted and distributed. To wash this food down, upwards of thirty tuns of beer, and a quart of rum per man, were distributed. Any one who liked to smoke received a charged pipe, and all were paid their wages as for an ordinary working-day. Dancing and music concluded the festival.
Struensee, in his abject terror, had not duly reflected how uncertain is the permanent effect of popular demonstrations, or to what remarks they give rise. But the mistake led to even more ugly consequences. It had not only been announced that the court would be present at the festival, but the diplomatic corps, and all the dignitaries of the state, had been invited as well. Fifty men of the flying corps of guards were to form the king's escort, and had been told off, when a rumour reached the court that a design on the favourite's life would be carried out at the feast of the roast ox. In the terrible confusion which this rumour caused at Hirschholm, the advice of the experienced Falckenskjold was demanded. Struensee was afraid of being murdered, and said in Brandt's presence to Falckenskjold, that the fate of Concini might be hanging over him. The colonel advised him to mix among the populace at the festival, and display an undaunted demeanour, but took advantage of the opportunity to urge him to be more cautious, and not to arouse his enemies further. He told him that the dissatisfaction with his government was now extending to his friends, and reminded him of the fate of Counts Corfix Ulfeld and Griffenfeldt, whom the court had been compelled to sacrifice to their enemies.
"Such is the fate," Struensee's best friend concluded his far-sighted warnings, "by which you are also threatened, and, if they can, they will drag you to the scaffold. So, at any rate, take care that your papers are in order."