The King and Queen, with Struensee, Brandt, and all their court, entered the theatre at ten o’clock, and dancing immediately began. The King, who no longer danced, retired to the royal box where card-tables were arranged, and played quadrille with General and Madame Gahler, and Justice Struensee, brother of the Prime Minister. The Queen, who was magnificently dressed[18] and wore splendid jewels, danced continually, and seemed in high spirits. Every one remarked on her beauty and vivacity. The Queen-Dowager never attended masked balls, so that her absence called forth no comment; but Prince Frederick, contrary to his usual custom (for he was generally waiting on these occasions to receive their Majesties), was more than an hour late, and when he at last arrived, his flushed face and nervous air revealed his agitation. But the Queen, who thought that his unpunctuality accounted for his nervousness, rallied him playfully and said: “You are very late, brother. What have you been doing?” “I have had some business to attend to, Madam,” he replied in confusion, as he bowed over her extended hand. “It seems to me,” said the Queen gaily, “that you would do better to think of your pleasure than your business on the evening of a ball.” The Prince stammered some reply, which the Queen did not heed; she dismissed him good-humouredly, and resumed her dancing.
[18] The dress the Queen is said to have worn at this ball—of rich white silk, brocaded with pink roses—is still preserved in the Guelph Family Museum at Herrenhausen. It was sent to Hanover after her death.
Several of the conspirators were present to disarm suspicion, including Köller and Guldberg, who strolled about as though nothing was impending. Presently Köller sat down to cards in one of the boxes, and played in the most unconcerned manner possible. When Struensee went up to him and said: “Are you not going to dance?” Köller replied with covert insolence: “Not yet. My hour to dance will arrive presently.” As usual at the court entertainments, Struensee, after the Queen, was the most prominent figure. Richly clad in silk and velvet, and with the Order of Matilda on his breast, he played the part of host in all but name. Whatever might be the feeling outside the palace walls, within there appeared no hint of his waning power; he was still the all-powerful minister, flattered, courted and caressed. The Queen hung on his lightest word, and a servile crowd of courtiers and place-hunters courted his smile or trembled at his frown. He was the centre of the glittering scene, and, though there were few present who did not secretly hate or fear him, all rendered him outward honour, and many envied him his good fortune.
Though the ball was brilliant and largely attended, the company was hardly what one might expect to find at the court of a reigning monarch. The bearers of some of the oldest and proudest names in Denmark were absent; and their places were taken by well-to-do citizens of Copenhagen and their wives. A few of the foreign ambassadors were present, including the English envoy, General Keith. He probably attended in pursuance of his determination to be at hand to help and defend his King’s sister, in case of need. Keith feared some outbreak of violence, which would place the Queen in personal danger. He does not seem to have had the slightest inkling of the organised plot against her honour and her life. He was not ignorant, of course, of the dislike with which the Queen-Dowager and her son, representing the nobility, the clergy and the upper classes generally, viewed the Struensee regime, for which Matilda was largely responsible; but he thought they would act, if they acted at all, in a constitutional manner, by promoting the recall of Bernstorff, and the overthrow of the favourite.
The evening was not to pass without another display of Struensee’s insolence, and a further affront to Prince Frederick. The favourite supped in the royal box with the King and Queen, but the King’s brother was not admitted, and had to get his supper at a buffet, like the meanest of the guests. The insult was premeditated, for Reverdil tells us that he heard of it the day before, and interceded for the Prince in vain. The Prince probably did not mind, for he knew that the favourite’s hour had struck. But for Struensee, as he feasted at the King’s table, there was no writing on the wall to forewarn him of his doom.
The King left the ballroom soon after midnight, and retired to his apartments; the Queen remained dancing for some time longer. The company unmasked after supper, and the fun became fast and furious; the ceremony usual at court entertainments was absent here, and all etiquette and restraint were banished. The Queen mingled freely with her guests, and enjoyed herself so much that it was nearly three o’clock before she retired. Her withdrawal was the signal for the company to depart, and soon the ballroom was deserted and in darkness.
The Countess Holstein had invited a few of her intimate friends, including Struensee, Brandt and two ladies, to come to her apartments after the ball. But one of the ladies, Baroness Schimmelmann, excused herself on the plea of a severe headache, and the other lady, Baroness Bülow, was unwilling to go alone, and therefore the party fell through. Had the Countess Holstein’s party taken place, as by the merest chance it did not, it would probably have upset the plans of the conspirators, or at least rendered them more difficult to carry out, for the principal men marked down for prey would have been gathered together in one room, and would have resisted or tried to escape.
The stars in their courses seemed to be fighting for the Queen-Dowager, for this evening also the conspiracy had been on the brink of failure owing to the vacillation of Rantzau. This traitor, whose only wish was to get his debts paid, had no more faith in the promises of the Queen-Dowager than in those of Struensee (though the event proved that he was wrong), and at the eleventh hour considered that the enterprise was too hazardous. He therefore resolved to be on the safe side, and reveal the whole conspiracy. To this end, about eight o’clock in the evening, before the ball, he drove secretly to the house of Struensee’s brother. But the Justice had gone out to dinner, and Rantzau therefore left a message with the servant, bidding him be sure to tell his master, directly he came home, that Count Rantzau desired a visit from him immediately on a matter of great importance. Justice Struensee returned soon after, and the servant gave him the message, but he knew the excitable character of Rantzau, and said: “The visit will keep until to-morrow morning. The Count is always in a fuss about trifles.” He therefore went on to the ball, where he played cards with the King.
Rantzau, meanwhile, wondered why the Justice did not come, and worked himself up to a state of great alarm. He would not go to the ball, but wrapped his feet in flannel, went to bed and sent Köller word that a violent attack of gout prevented him from keeping his appointment in the Queen-Dowager’s apartments as agreed. The other conspirators were much disturbed by the message, for they feared treachery. Beringskjold was sent to persuade the Count to come, and when Rantzau pointed to his feet, he suggested a sedan chair. Still Rantzau made excuses. Then Köller, who knew the manner of man with whom he had to deal, sent word to say that if he did not come forthwith he would have him fetched thither by grenadiers. The threat was effectual, and Rantzau, finding that Struensee’s brother did not appear, yielded, and was carried to the Christiansborg in a sedan chair. When there, he regained his feet, and became in a short space of time miraculously better.
Köller early quitted the masquerade, where he only showed himself for a short time to disarm suspicion, and had a hurried conference with Eickstedt in another part of the palace. The two officers, each possessed of an order signed by the Queen-Dowager and Prince Frederick, then separated—Köller to look after the garrison, and Eickstedt the palace guard. Eickstedt went to the guard-room and summoned the officers of the guard. The proceedings were conducted with the greatest secrecy, and, when the officers had all arrived, Eickstedt lit a candle, which he placed under the table, so that no one might see the assembly from without. By this dim light he read an order, signed by the Queen-Dowager and Prince Frederick, to the effect that, the King being surrounded by bad people, and his royal person in danger, his loving brother and stepmother hereby commanded Colonels Köller and Eickstedt to seize that same night Counts Struensee and Brandt, and several other persons named, and to place them under arrest. The Queen-Dowager and Prince Frederick had not the slightest right to command the troops; the document was, in fact, a usurpation of the royal authority; but that was a matter which concerned Eickstedt and Köller. The subordinate officers, who, in common with the whole army, hated Struensee, were only too glad to carry the order into effect, the responsibility resting not with them, but with the Queen-Dowager and their commanders. After they had all sworn obedience, Eickstedt gave them their orders. When all was ready, they were to advance at half-past three o’clock, or as soon as the ball was quite over, occupy all the doors of the palace, and allow none to go in or go out. They were at first to try to stop them politely, and if that failed, to use force. A picket of dragoons, with their horses bitted and saddled, were also to be in readiness.