There was at first a drawback to Struensee’s schemes; the Queen would have nothing to do with him. Matilda was prejudiced against the doctor; he was the King’s favourite, and she imagined he was of the same calibre as Holck and the rest of Christian’s favourites—a mere panderer to his vicious follies. Shortly after his arrival at Copenhagen, before he grasped the situation at court, Struensee had made a false step. He had sought to intrigue the King with one Madame Gabel, a beautiful and clever woman, who was to play the part of his Egeria—for the benefit of the doctor. But Madame Gabel died suddenly and the plot was foiled. The Queen had heard of this episode and disliked Struensee accordingly. She ignored him, and for nine months after his arrival at court (from February to October, 1769), he had not the honour of a word with her. But Struensee was by no means daunted by the Queen’s dislike of him; he regarded it as an obstacle in the path of his ambition, which like other obstacles would have to be overcome. He waited for an opportunity to dispel her prejudice, and it came with the Queen’s illness.
Matilda had reached the point of despair. The court physicians could do nothing with her, she rejected their remedies and turned a deaf ear to all remonstrances. Matters went from bad to worse until the Queen’s life was thought to be in danger. As we have seen, the English envoy suggested that George III. should write a private letter of remonstrance to his sister. Whether the suggestion was acted upon or not there is no record to tell, but remonstrance came from another quarter. Christian VII., who had grown into a liking for his wife, became very much alarmed, and at last, perhaps at Struensee’s suggestion, commanded that the Queen should see his own private physician, in whom he had great confidence. Matilda refused; all that she knew of the doctor filled her with suspicion and dislike. But the King insisted, and at last she yielded to his commands, and admitted Struensee to her presence. It was the crisis in her destiny.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE TEMPTER.
1769-1770.
A single interview sufficed to break down the Queen’s prejudice against Struensee. His manner was so tactful and deferential; he seemed to be so grieved at her condition, and so anxious to serve her that before he withdrew she was convinced she had misjudged him. He was as skilful as he was sympathetic; the remedies he prescribed took effect almost immediately, and when the doctor again waited on his royal patient he found her better. Struensee’s visits were repeated daily, and as Matilda improved in health she was naturally grateful to the physician who wrought this change. She also became attracted by his tact and courtesy, so different from the treatment she met with from Holck and his party. She began to talk to the doctor on general subjects, and discovered that he was an extremely intelligent and well-read man. Struensee flattered himself that he had even more knowledge of the human heart—and especially of the heart of woman—than of medicine. He sought to amuse and distract the Queen, until she looked forward to his visits with pleasure, and every day gave him longer audience than before.
Struensee was one of those doctors who find out what their patients like to do, and then advise them to do it, and after several conversations with the Queen, he arrived at most of her likes and dislikes. The Queen, having been bred in England, was fond of an outdoor life. In Denmark at that time ladies of rank never went outside their gates except in a carriage, and for them to ride or walk about the streets was unknown. Struensee advised that the Queen should set a precedent, and walk and ride when, and where, she pleased. In pursuance of this advice the Queen, a few days later, to the astonishment of many, was seen walking briskly about the streets of Copenhagen, attended by her ladies. She also rode a great deal, and, though she did not at first appear in public on horseback, she spent hours riding about the park and woods of Frederiksborg. Matilda much enjoyed her new-found freedom, which made a great flutter in all grades of society in Copenhagen. The Danish Mercury wrote a poem on the subject of the Queen walking in the town ending with the lines:—
Thanks, Matilda, thanks for the discovery,