“In 1780 I had an opportunity at Hanover of forming the acquaintance of M. Roques, pastor of the French Protestant Church at Celle. One day I spoke to him about Queen Caroline Matilda.
“‘I was summoned almost daily by that Princess,’ he said to me, ‘either to read or converse with her, and most frequently to obtain information relative to the poor of my parish. I visited her more constantly during the last days of her life, and I was with her a little before she drew her last breath. Although very weak, she retained her presence of mind. After I had recited the prayers for the dying, she said to me in a voice that seemed to become more animated: “Monsieur Roques, I am about to appear before God. I protest that I am innocent of the crimes imputed against me, and that I was never faithless to my husband.’”
“M. Roques added that the Queen had never before spoken to him, even indirectly, of the accusations brought against her.
“I wrote down on the same day (March 7, 1780) what M. Roques said to me, as coming from a man distinguished by his integrity of character.”[110]
[110] Mémoires de M. Falckenskjold, Officier Général dans le service de S. M. Danoise.
If Falckenskjold is to be believed, this, it must be admitted, is remarkable evidence; but in his Memoirs he can be more than once convicted of misstatements, and, at best, this one rests on second-hand information obtained five years after the Queen’s death. It was Pastor Lehzen, and not Pastor Roques, who attended the Queen in her illness, and he published afterwards an edifying account of her last moments, which contained no statement of this nature.[111] As Lehzen was the Queen’s chaplain throughout her residence at Celle, and rector of the principal church there, it seems more likely that she would have confided in him than in the minister of the French Protestant chapel, whom she only saw from time to time in connection with little deeds of beneficence to the poor among his congregation.
[111] Lehzen’s Die Letzten Stunden der Königin von Danemark.
It is not necessary to invest Matilda with the halo of a saint to feel sympathy for her sorrows and pity for her fate. She loved greatly and suffered greatly for her love. Let it rest there.
“Our good Queen is no more,” announced Pastor Lehzen, as he came from her deathbed to the long gallery, where the whole of the late Queen’s household, some fifty in number, were assembled. There was not one of them who did not hear the words without a sense of personal loss, for there was not one, even the meanest, to whom the Queen had not endeared herself by some kind word or deed. The castle was filled with weeping and lamentation. The ill news was quickly communicated to the town, and every house became a house of mourning, for during her residence at Celle Matilda had endeared herself alike to the highest and the lowest, and was spoken of by all as their “lieben und guten Königin” (their beloved and good Queen).
Owing to the danger of infection the Queen’s funeral took place within fifty hours of her death. It was found impossible to delay her obsequies until the King’s instructions could be received from England, and therefore at midnight on May 13 the Queen was interred in the burial vault of the Dukes of Celle in the old church.
The grand marshal of the court of Hanover, Baron von Lichtenstein, took charge of the funeral arrangements. The Queen’s coffin was carried on a hearse, drawn by six horses, from the castle to the church under an escort of soldiers, and the route was guarded by soldiers bearing torches, and lined with rows of weeping people, all clad in black. The Queen’s household, headed by Baron Seckendorf, her chamberlain, and the Baroness Dowager d’Ompteda, her chief lady-in-waiting, followed on foot. The church was crowded with the chief people of Celle, including Prince Ernest of Mecklenburg-Strelitz and Madame de Plessen. The simple service was conducted by Pastor Lehzen, and the coffin was lowered to the ducal vaults.[112]
[112] Though the funeral was quite private, the expenses were very heavy, amounting to some £3,000. They were defrayed, by order of George III., by the privy purse.