CHAPTER XIV.
THE QUEEN’S FOLLY.
1770.
Struensee, who was now sure of his position with the King and Queen, resolved to carry out his plans, and obtain the object of his ambition—political power. In order to gain this it was necessary that the ministers holding office should one by one be removed, and the back of the Russian party in Copenhagen be broken. The Queen was quite agreeable to every change that Struensee suggested; she only stipulated that her detested enemy, Holck, should go first, and his friends at court follow. Struensee agreed, but in these matters it was necessary to move with great caution, and await a favourable opportunity to strike. Quite unwittingly Holck played into his enemies’ hands; the great thing, as either party knew well, was to gain possession of the King, who would sign any paper laid before him. A page, named Warnstedt, who was always about the person of the King, was Struensee’s friend, and Holck therefore resolved to get rid of him and appoint a creature of his own. He thought he could best effect this by taking the King away from his present surroundings, and he therefore proposed to Christian that he should make another tour through the Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein. The King agreed, and Holck was jubilant, for he knew that if he could only get the King to himself the power of Struensee would be shaken. To his dismay, the Queen announced that she intended to accompany her husband. She was anxious, she said, to see the duchies, and had no intention of being left behind again. Notwithstanding the difficulties which Holck raised, the King offered no objection, and even expressed pleasure that his Queen would accompany him. The Queen’s going meant, of course, that her favourite would go too. Struensee hailed the prospect of the tour; he had long been wishing to get the King and Queen away from the capital in order that he might better effect the changes he had in contemplation.
The preparations for the tour were pushed on apace. The King and Queen were to be attended by a numerous suite. Holck, Struensee and Warnstedt were to be in attendance, and all the ladies of the Queen’s household. Of ministers only Bernstorff, the Prime Minister, was to accompany them, and the same council of three, Thott, Moltke and Rosenkrantz, who had managed public business at Copenhagen during the King’s former tour, were to conduct it again, but under limitations. They received express orders from the King not to have any transactions with foreign envoys during his absence, and if any matter of urgency occurred they were to communicate with him in writing before deciding on any plan of action. These instructions were, of course, dictated to the King by Struensee. Bernstorff was astonished and indignant when he heard of them, for he guessed the quarter whence they came. He began to fear that his position was threatened, and, too late, regretted that he had not taken the repeated advice of his friends and removed Struensee while there was time. He knew, though the English influence was on his side, that he had nothing to hope from the Queen; he had offended her past forgiveness by insisting on the dismissal of Madame de Plessen, and by wishing to exclude her from the regency. He started on the tour with great misgivings. But he had been in office so long that even now he could not imagine the government of the kingdom going on without him, forgetting that no man is indispensable.
On June 20, 1770, the royal party arrived at Gottorp Castle in Schleswig, an ancient and unpretending edifice on the edge of a lake, which was then occupied by Prince Charles of Hesse, whom the King had appointed Viceroy of the Duchies. The Viceroy and his wife, Princess Louise, drove out a league from Gottorp to meet the King and Queen, and their greetings were most cordial, especially those between Matilda and her sister-in-law. The King, too, was very friendly, though Prince Charles saw a great change in him. He seemed to rally his failing powers a little at Gottorp.
Prince Charles noticed with amazement how great a power Struensee had acquired; it was the first time he had seen the favourite, and he took a strong dislike to him, which, perhaps, coloured the description he gave of the visit. “After an hour’s conversation,” writes Prince Charles [on arriving at Gottorp], “in which we recalled past times, the Queen took me by the arm and said: ‘Now, escort me to Princess Louise’s apartments, but do not take me through the ante-chamber’—where the suite were assembled. We almost ran along the corridor to the side door by the staircase, and then we saw some of the suite coming downstairs. The Queen espied Struensee among them, and said hastily: ‘I must go back; do not keep me!’ I replied that I could not well leave her Majesty alone in the passage. ‘No! no!’ she cried, ‘go to the Princess,’ and she fled down the corridor.” [Struensee had probably forbidden the Queen to talk to the Princess alone.] “I was much astonished, but I obeyed her commands. She was always ill at ease with me when Struensee was present; at table he invariably seated himself opposite to her.”[125]
[125] Mémoires de mon Temps.
Prince Charles and his wife noted with great regret the change in the Queen; they remembered that she was only eighteen, they made allowance for her good heart and her lively spirits, but even so they grieved to see her forget her self-respect, and indulge in amusements which hurt her reputation. They ascribed this change to the pernicious influence of Struensee. She seemed frightened of him, and trembled, when he spoke to her, like a bird, ensnared. Frequently he so far forgot himself as to treat her with scant respect. For instance, Prince Charles writes: “The King’s dinner was dull. The Queen afterwards played at cards. I was placed on her right, Struensee on her left; Brandt, a new arrival, and Warnstedt, a chamberlain, completed the party. I hardly like to describe Struensee’s behaviour to the Queen, or repeat the remarks he dared address to her openly, while he leant his arm on the table close to her. ‘Well, why don’t you play?’ ‘Can’t you hear?’ and so forth. I confess my heart was grieved to see this Princess, endowed with so much sense and so many good qualities, fallen to such a point and into hands so bad.”[126]