STRUENSEE.
From the Painting by Jens Juel, 1771, now in the possession of Count Bille-Brahe.
This theory of physical collapse also explains much that is otherwise inexplicable in the closing days of Struensee’s career. When, by royal decree, he had arrogated to himself the kingly authority, and wielded without let or hindrance absolute power, it was thought that he would use this power to complete the work he had begun, and to revolutionise the whole political government of the kingdoms. But, to the astonishment of all, Struensee did nothing; the power lay idle in hands that seemed half-paralysed, or only showed intermittent signs that it existed by some feeble revocation of previous acts, as, for instance, the re-imposition of the censorship of the press.
As Keith wrote: “It would seem as if the genius of the Prime Minister had wasted itself by the hasty strides he made to gain the summit of power. Daily experience shows us that he has formed no steady plan either with regard to the interior affairs of Denmark or her foreign connections. From such a man it was natural to expect that the most decisive and even headlong acts would distinguish an administration of which he had the sole direction; instead of which, the business accumulates in every department of the state, and only a few desultory steps have been taken, which lead to no important or permanent consequences.”[9]
[9] Keith’s despatch, Copenhagen, September 20, 1771.
To the same cause must be attributed the apathy with which Struensee regarded the treachery of his followers, and the increased activity of his enemies. Though beset by dangers on every side, he disregarded alike warnings and entreaties, and drifted on to his doom. It is true that this indifference was broken by spasms of unreasoning panic; but the moment the threatened peril had passed he fell back into apathy again.
CHAPTER II.
THE GATHERING STORM.