The door of the outer room of Struensee’s apartments was firmly locked, and his favourite valet slept within. The youth was aroused (as he afterwards said from dreams of ill-omen) by the noise of men trying to force the door. On asking who was there, he was commanded to open in the King’s name, under pain of instant death. Taken by surprise, the valet had no time to give his master warning to escape by the private staircase, which led to the apartments of the Queen, but he hurriedly secreted certain jewels and papers, and threw open the door. There he saw Köller, holding a wax taper and dressed in full uniform, and his companions. Two soldiers pointed pistols at the valet’s head, and a third directed one to his breast. “Have you woke the Count?” Köller whispered, and, on the trembling youth replying in the negative, Köller made him give up the key of Struensee’s bedroom, which was also locked. The door was opened as silently as possible, and Köller, with a drawn sword in his hand, entered the room, followed by three officers.
The voluptuary had furnished his chamber with great luxury. The walls were hung with rich figured damask, the mirrors were of the purest glass, and the washing service was of wrought silver. The bed was canopied with purple velvet and gold, and the canopy was shaped in the form of a royal crown. The carpet was of velvet pile, and the room was scented with costly perfumes. Struensee was sleeping heavily—so heavily that neither the light of the taper nor the entrance of Köller roused him. He was sleeping with his head on his arm, and the book with which he had read himself to sleep had fallen to the floor.
For a moment Köller stood and looked down on his victim; then he shook him roughly by the shoulder, and Struensee awoke to the horror of the situation. He sprang up in the bed, and shouted: “In God’s name, what is this?” Köller answered roughly: “I have orders to arrest you. Get up at once and come with me.” “Do you know who I am,” said the omnipotent minister of an hour ago haughtily, “that you dare to command me thus?” “Yes,” said Köller with a laugh; “I know who you are well enough. You are the King’s prisoner.” Struensee then demanded to see the warrant for his arrest, but as Köller did not yet possess this, he replied shortly that the warrant was with the King, but he would be answerable with his head that he was carrying out the King’s orders. Struensee still refused to move; but Köller thrust his sword point against his breast, and said: “I have orders to take you either dead or alive. Which shall it be?” Struensee, shivering with terror, sank back on the bed, and asked for time to think; but Köller told him he must come at once. Struensee then asked that his valet might bring him a cup of chocolate, but Köller refused this also. “You will at least allow me to dress myself?” said Struensee. Köller said he would give him two minutes to do so; but he would not suffer either Struensee or the valet to go into the next room for clothes. Struensee was therefore obliged to hurry into the clothes he had worn at the ball, and which lay, where he had thrown them off, on a chair by the bed—breeches of pink silk and a coat and waistcoat of light blue velvet—gay attire especially ill-suited for his melancholy journey.
Struensee’s hands were bound, and he was hurried down to the guard-room, where his legs were bound as well. Here he waited a few minutes, guarded by soldiers with drawn swords and loaded pistols, until the coach was brought round to the door. He was thrust into it, followed by Köller, and driven under a strong escort to the citadel. On the way he groaned: “My God, what crime have I committed?”—to which his companion vouchsafed no answer. When he got out of the coach he asked that something might be given to the driver, who was one of the royal coachmen. Köller handed the man a dollar, for which he thanked him, but said in Danish, with a vindictive look at Struensee: “I would gladly have done it for nothing.” There was hardly a menial in the King’s household who would not rejoice over the favourite’s fall.
Struensee was led into the presence of the commandant of the citadel, and formally delivered over to him by Köller. By this time he had regained something of his self-possession, and said to the commandant, whom he knew well: “I suppose this visit is totally unexpected by you?” “Not at all,” replied the discourteous officer; “I have been expecting to see you here for a long time.” The prisoner was then marched to a small cell, which had previously been occupied by a notorious pirate. On entering this gloomy chamber, Struensee, who had expected to be treated as a state prisoner, with every comfort, if not luxury, started back and said: “Where is my valet?” “I have not seen any valet,” said the jailor shortly. “But where are my things?” “I have not seen them either.” “Bring me my furs. It is cold here. I have no wish to be frozen to death.” But the man did not move. As there was nothing but a wooden stool and pallet bed, Struensee asked for a sofa. “There are no sofas here,” said the man, and backed up his words by a coarse insult. Struensee then lost his self-command, burst out into raving and cursing, and tried to dash out his brains against the wall, but the jailor held him back. When the commandant was informed of the prisoner’s refractory conduct, he ordered him to be fettered hand and foot, which was promptly done. This hurt Struensee’s pride more than all the other treatment, and he broke down and wept, exclaiming: “I am treated en canaille!” Certainly it was a change from the bed of down and the purple velvet hangings of an hour ago.
Brandt was arrested at the same time as Struensee. Colonel Sames, formerly commandant of Copenhagen, who had been deprived of his post by Struensee, accompanied by a guard, went to his apartments, but they found the door locked. For some time Brandt refused to answer, but on Sames threatening to break the door down unless it were opened, he at last turned the key and met his opponents, ready dressed and with a drawn sword. When the soldiers advanced to disarm him, he made no resistance, but said: “This must be a mistake. I have committed no offence for which I can be arrested.” Sames told him it was no mistake, but that he was acting on the King’s order, and it would be better for him to yield. Brandt, who was perfectly self-controlled, said: “Very well, I will follow you quietly.” He was taken down to the guard-room, put into a coach, and conveyed to the citadel, immediately following Struensee. When he entered the presence of the commandant, he said gaily: “I must apologise, sir, for paying you a visit at so early an hour.” “Not at all,” replied the commandant, with elaborate politeness; “my only grief is that you have not come before.” While some formalities were being gone through, Brandt hummed a tune with an air of unconcern, and looking round him, said: “Upon my word, these are mighty fine quarters you have in this castle!” To which the commandant replied: “Yes, and in a minute you will have an opportunity of seeing even finer ones.”
Brandt was presently conducted to his cell, which was even worse than Struensee’s, and on entering it he said good-humouredly to the jailor: “On my word, the commandant spoke truth!” Brandt bore his privations with firmness, and presently pulled a flute from his pocket and amused himself by playing it. He altogether showed much greater courage and self-control than the miserable Struensee, who did nothing but weep and bemoan his fate.
The arrest of Struensee’s principal confederates quickly followed. Falckenskjold was placed under arrest at the barracks. Justice Struensee and Professor Berger were conveyed to the citadel: General Gahler and his wife were arrested in bed; the lady jumped out of bed in her nightdress, and tried to escape by the back-stairs, but she was captured and removed with her husband to the citadel. Several others, including Bülow and Reverdil, were placed under “house arrest,” that is to say, they were confined to their houses, and had sentries posted over them. The servants of Struensee and Brandt were imprisoned in the Blue Tower. The morning dawned before all these imprisonments were carried out. The new rulers had reason to congratulate themselves that everything had been effected without bloodshed.
Meanwhile the most dramatic scene of the palace revolution was enacted in the Queen’s apartments of the Christiansborg. Upon retiring from the ball Queen Matilda went to see her infant daughter, and it was nearly four o’clock before she retired to rest. Even then she did not sleep, for the noise made by Köller in arresting Struensee, whose apartments were beneath, was indistinctly heard by the Queen. But she imagined it was due to the party which she understood was to be held in Countess Holstein’s rooms; she thought it had now been transferred to Struensee’s. She therefore sent one of her servants down to request them to be less noisy in their revels. The woman went, but did not return; and, as the noise ceased, the Queen thought no more about it, and presently fell asleep.