Probably it was the knowledge of this impenitent condition (for everything Matilda said or did was reported through spies) that made Juliana Maria provide spiritual consolation for the hapless captive. The Queen-Dowager was a fanatical woman, who had no charity but much bigotry; it is possible, therefore, that she may have been sincere in her wish to “convert” Matilda. At least, that is the only excuse that can be offered for the insults which were heaped upon the unfortunate young Queen in the name of religion. Acting on the instructions of the Queen-Dowager, the commandant of Kronborg every Sunday morning compelled his royal prisoner to come out of her small room, where at least she had the refuge of seclusion, and marched her over the rough stones of the courtyard to the chapel of the fortress.[46] There, seated in a pew with a guard on either side, and the ladies and gentlemen of her household (who put in an appearance on these occasions) behind her, the poor Queen was thundered at ferociously by the garrison preacher, one Chemnitz, who, also acting under instructions, preached at her for an hour together, and hurled at her head the fiercest insults from the safe shelter of his pulpit. For instance, on one Sunday he chose as his text: “And the people shall take them, and bring them to their place: and the house of Israel shall possess them in the land of the Lord for servants and handmaids: and they shall take them captives, whose captives they were; and they shall rule over their oppressors” (Isa. xiv. 2). On alternate Sundays another preacher, named Hansen, took up the parable, and was even more violent than his colleague. On one occasion he hurled at the Queen the following text: “Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel, and thy garments like him that treadeth in the winefat?” (Isa. lxiii. 2), and then proceeded to draw a parallel between the hapless prisoner and the scarlet woman. What added to the indignity of these cruel insults was the fact that they were addressed to the Queen in the presence of the other prisoners, many of them common criminals, and in the face of the rough soldiers of the fortress. But the exhortations of these Boanerges fell on deaf ears, so far as the Queen was concerned. It was noticed that she went very white, but she otherwise showed no sign of emotion. She left the chapel as she had entered it, with her head held haughtily erect, and a dignified air. Though naturally the most kind-hearted and unassuming of women, this royal daughter of England could summon all her dignity to her aid when she chose, and look every inch a queen. It was impossible to humiliate Matilda; nor were these the methods to win her from the error of her ways. When the preachers sought to gain admittance to her cell, she absolutely refused to see them, and showed so much determination that they dared not force their way into her presence. She might be dragged to the chapel and publicly pilloried, that she suffered under protest; but the men who had so insulted her she positively declined to receive, and all exhortations and threats were unavailing. But though the insults of the preachers failed to shake Matilda’s composure, her enemies, of whom Juliana Maria was the chief, had at last obtained a document by which they hoped to humble her proud head to the dust.
[46] The chapel is a handsome building, with a vaulted stone roof, and a gallery running round it. The walls are elaborately painted, and pulpit and stalls adorned with wood-carving by German masters. The chapel was restored in 1843, but, except for the pews, it presents much the same appearance as it did in Matilda’s day. It is now used as a garrison chapel, for Kronborg is no longer a prison.
By the third week of February the commissioners appointed to collect evidence against the state prisoners at Copenhagen had concluded their investigations, and were ready to examine the two principal offenders, preliminary to sending them to trial. Struensee was taken first. He had now been in close confinement five weeks; the heavy irons, the rough treatment and the mental anxiety had told upon his health, already failing before he went to prison. It was a feeble, broken man, very different to the arrogant minister of former days, who was dragged forth from his dungeon to be interrogated before the Commission on February 20. Extraordinary precautions were taken to guard the prisoner. The examination took place within the walls of the citadel, though in another part of the fortress—the house of the commandant. The two gates of the citadel were closed the whole day, and in the city the garrison and burgher guard were patrolled in readiness for any outbreak. At ten o’clock Struensee was taken across the yard of the citadel in the commandant’s coach, under the guard of an officer and six men, to the hall of examination. As the morning was very cold he was permitted to wear his fur coat, and before he was brought into the room where the Commission was sitting, his fetters were taken off. He trembled violently while his chains were being removed, but this may have been due to physical causes, for he had worn them day and night for five weeks, and they were very heavy. He could scarcely stand, so he was allowed to sit in an armchair when he confronted his enemies.
Notwithstanding his weak condition, Struensee astonished the commissioners by his calmness, and the collected way in which he answered their questions. He declared that all the orders he had given to the military during the last weeks of his administration were precautions to ensure the public safety, and he scouted the idea of his alleged plot against the person and authority of the King, of which, indeed, no vestige of proof existed. The first day his examination lasted nearly eight hours, from ten o’clock in the morning until two, and again from half-past four in the afternoon until seven o’clock in the evening. At the close Struensee was again put in irons, and conducted back to his dungeon.
The next morning he was brought forth again, and examined from ten o’clock until two. At none of these sittings did the prisoner inculpate himself in the slightest degree. At the third examination he was closely questioned with regard to his intimacy with the Queen, but he made no confession, and, on the contrary, declared that his relations with her were innocent. It is said that one of the commission, Councillor Braem, having spoken roughly to the prisoner because he would not admit his guilt, Struensee calmly told him to imitate his tranquillity, and added that the affair surely concerned him more than anybody else. Incensed by this calmness Braem threatened him with torture, and said that instruments were ready in the next room which would tear the truth from the most obstinate criminal. Struensee replied that he had already spoken the truth, and he did not fear torture.[47] The third examination closed at half-past two on the second day without any admissions having been extorted from the prisoner. In the interval the commissioners conferred together, and determined to change their tactics.
[47] According to Reverdil, it is doubtful whether Struensee was threatened with torture, or, if he were, Braem exceeded his functions. In any case, the threat was an idle one, for the instruments were not prepared.
So far they had told Struensee nothing of what had happened to Queen Matilda, but thought to entrap him by leaving him in complete ignorance of the details of the palace revolution. At a loss to explain Struensee’s calmness, they now shrewdly guessed that he was counting on the protection of the young Queen. It was remembered that he had often boasted, in the hour of his prosperity, that no harm could come to him, for the Queen was absolutely identified with all his measures, and to attack him would be to attack her too; she was his shield against his enemies. He never dreamed that they would dare to attack her, for she had absolute ascendency over the King, and moreover was the sister of a powerful reigning monarch, who would assuredly defend her from peril, or at least would use all his influence to prevent a scandal for the honour of his house. When, therefore, the prisoner was again summoned before his examiners, they told him without more ado that, if he were trusting to the protection of the Queen, he was trusting to a broken reed: the Queen herself was arrested and imprisoned, and would shortly be put upon her trial, with the consent of the King of England, who, equally with his Danish Majesty, viewed with abhorrence the guilty connection between her and Struensee. He might therefore as well make a clean breast of it, for everything would assuredly become known.
The effect produced on the prisoner’s shattered nerves by this revelation was all that his enemies hoped; Struensee was completely overcome, and broke down at once. So confidently had he counted on the Queen’s protection that, now he learned she was in the same plight as himself, all his firmness forsook him; he burst into tears and lamentations, and begged to be allowed to retire to regain his composure. But the commissioners were careful not to allow this opportunity to pass; they pressed home their advantage with renewed questions and threats, even holding out hopes of mercy if he would tell the truth. Before long Struensee, instead of “lying like a gentleman,” confessed without reserve that his familiarity with the Queen had been carried to the furthest limit. The commissioners did not conceal their exultation; this base confession did more than anything else to brand the man before them as a profligate adventurer.
Some extenuation might be urged for Struensee if in a moment of terror and confusion he had been taken off his guard and blurted out the truth, or if on consideration he had recalled his words; but his subsequent conduct leaves no room for this extenuation. There is no doubt that he thought, by dragging the Queen (now that she could no longer protect him) into the mud with himself, he would save his shameful life. He probably argued that a public trial would be avoided for the honour of the royal houses of Denmark and England, the affair would be hushed up, and he would be allowed to escape with banishment. It is more than probable that his crafty examiners held out this inducement for the wretched man to confess everything. Struensee needed little encouragement, for, having once embarked upon his story, he seemed to take a positive pleasure in telling the most unnecessary details. He evidently thought that the more deeply he incriminated the Queen, the better chance he would have of saving his life. Not content with this, the pitiful coward threw all the blame upon her—an inexperienced woman fourteen years younger than himself, who loved him to her destruction, who had showered benefits upon him, and to whom he owed everything. It was the old story, “The woman tempted me.”