THE MASKED BALL.
1772.
On January 8, 1772, the King and Queen returned to the Christiansborg after an absence from their capital of seven months. It required some courage to enter a city on the verge of insurrection, but the court could not remain away from Copenhagen for ever, and Struensee at last came to the conclusion that it would be better to put on a bold front, and meet his enemies on their own ground. Extraordinary precautions were taken to ensure his personal safety, and that of the King and Queen. They entered Copenhagen as though it were a hostile city. Keith thus describes the entry: “The court returned to Copenhagen on Wednesday, and the apprehensions of the Prime Minister are still very visible by the warlike parade with which the court is surrounded. Dragoons are posted on the market places, and patrols in the streets, and twelve pieces of cannon are kept constantly loaded in the arsenal. The entrance into the French play-house is lined with soldiers, and their Majesties in going from the palace to the opera-house, though the distance is not above three hundred yards, are escorted by an officer and thirty-six dragoons. Notwithstanding all these precautions, I see no reason to apprehend the smallest danger to the persons of their Majesties, and am willing to hope that the popular discontent may soon subside, if the Minister does not blow up the flame by some new act of violence.”[16]
[16] Keith’s despatch, January 11, 1772.
There was certainly no danger to the King. The people regarded him as a prisoner in the hands of the unscrupulous Minister, and their desire was to deliver him from that bondage. The Queen was only in danger because of her blind attachment to Struensee. If he could be removed, or induced to resign quietly, all would be forgiven her, for her youth, her inexperience and her infatuation aroused pity rather than anger in the breast of the multitude. But, as Struensee’s accomplice, she shared in his unpopularity, and the wrath of the Queen-Dowager and the clergy was especially directed against her. Matilda had no fear for herself; all her fears were for the man whom she still loved with unreasoning adoration; she trembled lest he might be forced to leave her, or fall a victim to the vengeance of his enemies. During the dangers and alarms of the last six months, she alone remained true to him; the hatred of his enemies, the treachery of his friends, the warnings and remonstrances of those who wished her well, made no difference. His craven fears, the revelation that her hero was but a coward after all, even the ingratitude and brutal rudeness with which he sometimes treated her, forgetting the respect due to her as Queen and woman, forgetting the sacrifices she had made for him, and the benefits she had rained upon him—all this did not make any change in her devotion; she still loved him without wavering or shadow of turning. Even now, when the popular execration was at its height, she bravely stood by his side, willing to share the odium excited by his misdeeds. Though all should fail him, she would remain.
The day of the return to Copenhagen there was a ball at the Christiansborg Palace; on the following Saturday there was the performance of a French play at the royal theatre; on the following Monday there was a court. On all these occasions the Queen, heedless of murmurings and averted looks, appeared with Struensee by her side, as though to support him by her presence. Indeed, she sought by many a sign and token to show to all the world that, however hated and shunned he might be, her trust and confidence in him were unbroken; and he, craven and selfish voluptuary that he was, set his trembling lips, and sought to shelter himself from the popular vengeance behind the refuge of her robe.
It was at this time—the eleventh hour—that George III. made one more effort to save his sister. Mastering his pride, he wrote to her yet another letter, urging her for the good of her adopted country, for her own personal safety, and for the honour of the royal house from which she sprang, to send away the hated favourite, and recall Bernstorff. So anxious was the King of England that this letter should reach his sister that he overcame his repugnance to Struensee sufficiently to command Keith to deliver it to the Queen through Struensee’s hands, according to her wishes.[17] The letter was duly delivered, but before an answer could be returned it was too late.
[17] “I have the honour to enclose a letter from his Majesty to the Queen of Denmark, which I am commanded to direct you to deliver to Count Struensee for him to convey to her Danish Majesty, and you will observe the same mode of conveyance for all the King’s private letters to the Queen of Denmark. You are to take the earliest opportunity to acquaint Mr Osten privately that this mode is adopted at the express desire of the Queen of Denmark.”—Suffolk to Keith, January 9, 1772.
The contents of the King’s letter of course are not known, but that the gist of it was probably that given above may be gathered from Lord Suffolk’s previous communication to the English envoy at Copenhagen.
The continued favour shown by the Queen to Struensee, the close guarding of the royal palaces, the display of military force in the city, and the disbanding of the guards, who were regarded in a special sense the bodyguard of the monarch, all lent confirmation to the rumour that a coup d’état was imminent—that Struensee meant to seize the person of the King, depose him, or otherwise make away with him, marry the Queen, and proclaim himself Regent, or Protector of the King. Moreover, it was whispered that he had become acquainted with the Queen-Dowager’s intrigues against his authority, and was contemplating the arrest of Juliana Maria and her son. This rumour, to which the military preparations gave colour, was told the Queen-Dowager by interested persons, with a view to forcing her at last to act. Juliana Maria was an imperious, hard, intriguing woman. From the first she had disliked Matilda, and wished her ill, but there is no evidence to show that she would have headed a revolution against her had she not been driven into it by force of circumstances. That the Queen-Dowager desired and plotted the overthrow of Struensee was natural and excusable. He had treated herself and her son with marked disrespect; he had privately insulted and publicly affronted them. His reforms both in church and state were entirely opposed to her views; his intrigue with Queen Matilda she considered dishonouring to the royal house, and his influence over the King harmful to the monarch and the nation. Juliana Maria and her son represented the old regime and were naturally looked up to at a crisis; in any event, she would have been forced into opposition to the existing state of affairs.