The queen from this time forth was more constantly than ever on the ramparts watching for the arrival of the British flotilla. The squadron, consisting of the Southampton, Captain McBride, the Seaford, Captain Davis, and the Cruizer, Captain Cummings, left England on May 22, and anchored off Elsinore on the 27th. In the meanwhile Caroline Matilda wrote her brother a most affecting letter, asserting her innocence of all the criminal accusations against her in the strongest manner, and declaring that the strictness of her future life should fully refute the slander of her enemies. She at the same time expressed a wish to be allowed to return to England, but left her fate in his Majesty's hands. A consultation had been held at Buckingham House on the subject, but it was found too expensive, and it was finally settled that Caroline Matilda was to take up her residence at Celle, in Hanover, George III. allowing her £8,000 a year for the support of her dignity.
Very touching, too, is it to read that the queen at this time wore nothing but deep mourning; and one of her ladies asking her why she affected such a semblance of sorrow, she replied—
"It is a debt I owe to my murdered reputation."
Sir Robert Murray Keith supplies an interesting anecdote of the queen in a letter to his sister:—
"Here I am, thank my stars, upon the utmost verge of Denmark. My ships are not yet arrived, but a few days may conclude the whole affair; and the weather is mild and agreeable. I return to Copenhagen this evening, but only for a day or two, to wind up my affairs, and give my parting advice to the little secretary, in whose success as chargé d'affaires I take a particular interest. I am just returned from her Majesty, who is, Heaven be praised, in perfect health, notwithstanding the danger she has run of catching the measles from the young princess, whom she never quitted during her illness. A more tender mother than this queen has never been born in the world."
Caroline Matilda was at dinner when the imperial salute of the English frigate and the castle guns informed her Majesty of Captain McBride's arrival. This gallant officer met Sir R. Keith on shore, who, after a mutual exchange of compliments, introduced the captain to her Majesty, by whom he was most graciously received as a man destined to convey her safe to her brother's electoral dominions; far from the reach of the personal shafts of her enemies, and that land which had been the dismal scene of her unparalleled misfortunes and humiliations. When the captain had notified his commission, and said that he should await her Majesty's time and pleasure, she exclaimed in the anguish of her heart, "Ah! my dear children," and immediately retired. It was not for an insensible monarch on a throne, on which she seemed to have been seated merely to be the butt of envy, malice, and perfidy, that her Majesty grieved: the excruciating idea of being parted from her dear children, and the uncertainty of their fate, summoned up all the feelings of a tender mother. She begged to see her son before he was torn for ever from her bosom: but all her Majesty's entreaties were unsuccessful. Juliana Maria envied her the comfort of the most wretched—that of a parent sympathising in mutual grief and fondness with children snatched from her embrace by unnatural authority.
A deputation of noblemen having been appointed by the queen dowager to observe the queen after her enlargement till her departure, under the fallacious show of respect for the royal personage so lately injured and degraded—when they were admitted to Caroline Matilda's presence, and wished her in her Majesty's name a happy voyage, she answered—
"The time will come when the king will know that he has been deceived and betrayed; calumny may impose for a time on weak and credulous minds, but truth always prevails in the end. All my care and anxiety are now for the royal infants, my children."[40]
On May 30, a lady belonging to the court went to Kronborg in one of the king's coaches to remove the young Princess Louisa Augusta, and conduct her royal highness to Christiansborg Palace. Hence the last moments which the feeling queen spent in Denmark were the most painful of all: she was obliged to part from her only consolation, her only blessing, her beloved daughter: she was forced to leave her dear child among her enemies. For a long time she bedewed the infant with hot tears—for a long time she pressed it to her heart. She strove to tear herself away; but the looks, the smiles, the endearing movements of the infant, were so many fetters to hold the affectionate mother back. At last she called up all her resolution, took her once more in her arms, with the impetuous ardour of distracted love imprinted on the lips of the child the farewell kiss, and, delivering it to the lady-in-waiting, shrieked, "Away, away, I now possess nothing here!"[41]