Eh! qui donc comme moi gouterait la douceur
De t'appeler mon fils, d'être chère a ton cœur!
Toi, qu'on arrache aux bras d'une mère sensible,
Qui ne pleure que toi, dans ce destin terrible."[48]
On September 18, 1774, Mr. N. W. Wraxall, junior, arrived at Celle. This gentleman had, at an early age, obtained a profitable employment in the East Indies, and had even attained some dignity; he, however, threw up his post for motives which may be made known hereafter but do not belong here, and returned to England. He was very ambitious, and that ambition had been fostered by the fact that, having in his youth ransacked the muniments of Bristol, he had discovered that one of his ancestors was bailiff of that city in the thirteenth century; but the difficulty was, to what object would he turn that ambition: he was unknown and friendless, while, at the same time, the res angusta domi warned him to be up and stirring. There was but one way of acquiring fame and popularity: in those days, authorship was more respected, as being rarer, than it is among ourselves. Mr. Wraxall, therefore, determined first to make a tour, and then print an account of it, and, for this purpose, resolved to visit a but little known part of Europe, and thus add novelty to his descriptions. With this purpose he set out for the North, ran through Denmark, a portion of Sweden and Russia, and, on his homeward route, thought there would be no harm in going a little out of his way to visit the Queen of Denmark: he had learned something about her sad fate while in Copenhagen, and this had excited a wish to know more, literary capital being left out of the question.
On September 18, then, Mr. Wraxall waited on Baron Seckendorf, chamberlain to the queen, who presented strangers. The "Private Journal" shall tell us how he fared:—
"I went, at half-past one, to the castle of Zell. Monsieur Seckendorf introduced me to the grand maître of her Highness the Princess of Brunswick. The princess herself entered in about a quarter of an hour: she gave me her hand to kiss, and began conversation with me directly; it was interrupted by the queen's entrance, to whom I was presented, with the same ceremony. Her Majesty and the princess kept me in constant talk before and after dinner; we talked of Denmark, of Prince Frederick, his intended marriage, &c. 'He was a child,' said she (the queen), 'unknown while I was there.' Hirschholm, she said, was her favourite palace. 'But, tell me,' said the princess, 'about the queen-mother: she's my aunt, but no matter: say what you will, you may be free—and for the king, how is he?' I very frankly expressed my sentiments. The queen asked me a thousand questions about the court of Russia, Sweden, my travels, &c. The queen asked me, also, about her children, the prince in particular. I told her how they dressed him now: I assured her I had been taken for a spy in Copenhagen. Her Majesty related to me Mr. Morris's affair with Miss Calvert. She was very gay, and seemed in no way a prey to melancholy. She was very fat, for so young a woman. She asked me my age. I told her. 'You are, then,' said she, 'exactly as old as I am; we were born in the same year.' Her features are pretty, and her teeth very small, even, and white. She resembles his Majesty (George III.) infinitely in face: but the princess said, not so strongly as she. I don't think so, and told her royal highness so. Her Majesty appealed to one of her maids of honour, who agreed in opinion with me. The queen was dressed in a Barré coloured gown, or at least an orange red, so very nearly resembling it that I could not distinguish the difference. I asked her how many languages she spoke. 'Five,' she said, 'Danish, English, French, German, and Italian.' The princess is much thinner in face, but not a great deal less in her person: she wants the Queen of Denmark's teeth, but has a very good complexion. She asked me about the Duchess of Glo'ster, if I had seen her, if I knew her. 'She is a very fine woman,' she added, 'even now.' Mrs. C—— was mentioned. 'She was a prodigious favourite,' I remarked, 'of the Duke of York.' She replied, with a smile, 'For a moment.' She did me the honour to ask me to take Brunswick in my way next summer, or whenever I visited Germany again. She said she might, and should, have mistaken me for a Frenchman. 'You don't take that for a compliment, do you?' the queen observed. 'Indeed, no! I was too proud of my country.' Macaronies formed a part of our conversation. ''Tis all over now,' I said, 'the word is quite extinct in England.' 'But, tell me,' said her Majesty, 'tell me ingenuously, were you not a bit of a one, while it lasted?' I assured her not. I took my leave soon after dinner.
"Tuesday, Sept. 20.—'Tis a very pleasant, delightful walk round the ramparts, of a full English mile. The gardens, likewise, near the town are very pleasant and well kept. The streets of Zell are for the most part wide enough, and well paved, but the buildings are very old and very miserable. The fortifications are merely nominal, of no sort of strength. The castle stands detached from the town; it is a square building, surrounded by a broad, wet ditch. There were formerly round towers at the corners, but they have been pulled down. It was built by one of the ancient dukes of Zell; within it is a quadrangle. About ten o'clock I went to the Hôtel de Ville, where at this time the shops of the merchants who come to the fair of Zell are held. Her Majesty the Queen, and her sister the princess, were there. I had the honour to talk with them near an hour; we conversed in English most familiarly on fifty subjects—the Grand Duke of Russia, the empress, the peace between Russia and Turkey, my travels, Dantzig, formed the chief articles. I showed her Majesty my medals of the Empress of Russia and some other things. She was dressed quite à l'Anglaise: a white bonnet, a pale pink nightgown, a gauze handkerchief, a little locket on her bosom. Her face is very handsome: they are his Majesty's features, but all softened and harmonized. Pity she is so large in her person. The princess was quite English all over: a black hat over her eyes, and a common nightgown with a black apron."
Little anticipating that he should see the Queen of Denmark so soon again, Mr. Wraxall proceeded leisurely through Hanover, which he says may be truly described as "a hungry electorate," to Verden and Bremen. On Sept. 27 he reached Hamburg, and dined with Mr. Hanbury, the English consul, on the following day. Among the company present were Baron von Schimmelmann and his lady, Baroness von Bülow, "a very elegant woman," and M. le Texier, who had been treasurer to Christian VII. during the memorable tour. On the next night Mr. Wraxall was gratified at the Opera with a sight of the celebrated, or rather notorious, Countess Holstein, of whom he says:—