[115] The Carousal was a musical ride which the King and the courtiers had been rehearsing in the riding school for weeks beforehand. Vide Gunning’s despatch, April 15, 1769.
[116] Gunning’s despatch, Copenhagen, July 25, 1769.
The Duke of Gloucester left Copenhagen a few days after the Queen’s birthday, and returned to England. Though Christian had prepared all these festivities in his brother-in-law’s honour, he did not hesitate to exercise his wit at the expense of his guest. The Duke was silent and dull, and his lack of conversation was made a subject of ridicule by the garrulous King. One day Christian asked Holck what he thought of the Duke, and the favourite replied: “He reminds me of an English ox!” The Duke was very stout for his age, and had a broad red face and large ruminating eyes. The King laughed at Holck’s witticism, and maliciously repeated it to the Queen, who was incensed at the impertinence. If the truth must be told, the English Prince did not appear in the most favourable light at the Danish court. He stared and said little, and chiefly distinguished himself by his enormous appetite.
When her brother left Copenhagen the Queen found herself once more alone. His visit had been to a great extent a disappointment to her, for he had little in common with his sister, and not much sympathy for her in her troubles. These, as time went on, grew from bad to worse. Despite all her efforts Holck continued in the ascendant, and his influence was wholly against the Queen. He was known throughout Denmark as the man whom the King delighted to honour, and even Matilda was forced to show public marks of favour to the man whom she considered her worst enemy. For instance, in September she was compelled by the King to attend Holck’s wedding to a daughter of Count Laurvig, “an honour,” to quote the English envoy, “never before conferred in this kingdom upon any subject when the ceremony was performed out of the palace; but indeed the whole of this had more the appearance of the nuptials of a prince of the blood than those of a private person, the King having conveyed Count Holck in his Majesty’s chariot, at the same time giving him the right hand from Frederiksberg to Copenhagen, the Queen and all the court following”.[117] Holck’s marriage made no difference to his mode of life, and Christian’s infatuation for his favourite continued as great as before. Mounted couriers tore along the road between the Blaagaard, where Holck lived, and the King’s palace at all hours of the day and night, and on one occasion two horses were killed in the wild haste with which the horseman rode to convey the King’s message to his favourite.
[117] Gunning’s despatch, Copenhagen, September 30, 1769.
WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, BROTHER OF QUEEN MATILDA.
From the Painting by H. W. Hamilton, 1771.
Nine months had passed since Christian’s return from abroad, and it was at last seen by his subjects that the hopes they had formed of their King’s reformation were doomed to disappointment. The costly experiment of foreign travel had proved a failure. True, he no longer scandalised his people with riots in the streets, or his court with shameless disregard of morality, for his strength was no longer equal to such exhibitions. The incessant round of dissipation in London and Paris had shattered an already enfeebled constitution. The King’s tendency to melancholia became more marked every day, and symptoms of the dread malady which before long overtook him began to make themselves apparent. His delusions as to his prowess became more frequent, and he showed strange aberrations of intellect. He was a mental and physical wreck.
In October, 1769, Queen Matilda fell ill. Her illness was the crowning indignity and proved the limit of her long-suffering endurance. With it also came to an end the efforts she had bravely made since the King’s return to do her duty to her husband, and lead him to higher things. This was the turning-point of Matilda’s life, and explains, if it does not excuse, much that followed after. She threw down her arms. Insulted and degraded, it is no wonder that the young wife of eighteen was filled with a disgust of life. The remonstrances of her physicians were unavailing, she turned her face to the wall and prayed for death. The Queen’s condition was so serious that the English envoy thought it necessary to write home the following diplomatically worded despatch:—
“I am extremely sorry to acquaint your Lordship that the state of the Queen of Denmark’s health has lately presented some very unfavourable symptoms; which have given such apprehensions to her physicians, as to make them think that a perfect re-establishment may be attended with some difficulty, unless her Majesty can be persuaded to pay unusual attention to herself. I am so thoroughly sensible how deeply it would affect the King [George III.] to receive information of a still more alarming nature, and so anxious to prevent it, that I cannot help desiring your Lordship to represent to his Majesty that, though there appears no immediate danger, yet the situation the Queen of Denmark is at present in is too critical not to make it highly necessary to obviate worse symptoms, and as this happy effect depends very much upon her Majesty’s own care, I believe she would be wrought upon by nothing more successfully than by some affectionate expostulations from the King, upon the very great importance of her life.”[118]