CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER IV.THE PALACE REVOLUTION.1772.At four o’clock in the morning the little group of conspirators assembled in the apartments of the Queen-Dowager. They were eight in all—Juliana Maria, Prince Frederick, Guldberg, Rantzau, Eickstedt, Köller, Beringskjold and Jessen—not, at first sight, a powerful list to effect a revolution; but they had the army at their command, and the whole nation at their back. Moreover, some, at least, of them were sustained by the high consciousness that they were doing a righteous work, and the others were desperate men, who had all to gain and nothing to lose. Guldberg rehearsed to each one of the conspirators his separate duty, that nothing might be forgotten. Then, at the request of the Queen-Dowager, all knelt down, and a prayer was offered, invoking the Divine blessing on the undertaking.[19][19]The following account of the palace revolution is based on several authorities: some are favourable to the Queen, others against her. They more or less agree on the main facts, which are those set forth in this chapter, though they conflict as to details. Among them may be mentioned theMemoirsof Falckenskjold, Köller-Banner and Reverdil, all of whom played a part in the affair;Mémoires de mon Temps, by Prince Charles of Hesse (privately printed), the Private Journal of N. W. Wraxall, who claims to have based his narrative on the statements of Bülow and Le Texier, theMemoirs and Correspondence of Sir R. Murray Keith, and sundry depositions made at the Queen’s trial. There are a great many other accounts in printed books, but they are nearly all based on these sources.When they rose from their knees, all the conspirators, guided by Jessen and headed by the Queen-Dowager, went silently along the dark passages to the apartments of the King. In the ante-chamber they found the King’s valet fast asleep. They roused him, and told him they wished to see his Majesty immediately. Seeing the Queen-Dowager and Prince Frederick, the valet was willing to obey without demur; but the main door of the King’s bed-chamber was locked from within, and they were therefore obliged to go round by the secret staircase. The valet went in front to guide them, and immediately behind him came Guldberg, carrying a candle. The others followed in single line, and soon found themselves in Christian’s bedroom.The King awoke with a start, and, seeing in the dim light the room full of men, cried out in terror. The Queen-Dowager approached the bed, and said in reassuring accents: “Your Majesty, my dear son, be not afraid. We are not come hither as enemies, but as your true friends. We have come——” Here Juliana Maria broke down, and her voice was stifled by her sobs. Rantzau, who had agreed to explain the plan to the King, hung back. But Köller thrust him forward, and then he told the King that his Majesty’s brother and stepmother had come to deliver him and the countryfrom the hated yoke of Struensee. By this time the Queen-Dowager had recovered her nerve, and, embracing her stepson, she repeated what Rantzau had said with ample detail. The King, who was almost fainting with excitement and terror, demanded a glass of water, and, when he had drunk it, asked if the commandant of the palace guard were present. Eickstedt stepped forward, and confirmed what the Queen-Dowager and Rantzau had said, and added that the people were in a state of revolt, for a plot was being carried out to depose the King, in which Struensee and the Queen were concerned. When the King heard the Queen’s name, he refused to believe that she had anything to do with it, and said the story must be a mistake. But the Queen-Dowager assured him that Matilda was privy to it, and told him the whole of the supposed plot against his royal authority and person. Guldberg confirmed the Queen-Dowager’s statement in every particular, and declared there was no time to be lost.The bewildered King, at last half-convinced, asked what was to be done. Rantzau then pulled out of his pocket two written orders, and asked him to sign them. By the first, Eickstedt was made commander-in-chief, and by the second, Eickstedt and Köller were vested with full powers to take all measures necessary for the safety of the King and the country. Thus the obedience of the army would be assured. When Christian read these orders, he feared a conflict between the people and the military, for he exclaimed: “My God! thiswill mean rivers of blood.” But Rantzau, who by this time had regained his assurance, replied: “Be of good cheer, your Majesty. With God’s help, I take everything upon myself, and will as far as possible prevent bloodshed.” The King sat up in bed and signed the two orders; Prince Frederick counter-signed them.Eickstedt took the first and immediately left the room; he placed himself at the head of the picket of dragoons waiting below, and rode to the garrison to inform the officers on duty of his new appointment as commander-in-chief. He promptly strengthened the palace guard, had all the gates of the city closed, and bade the garrison hold itself in readiness for any event.Köller also took his order, and with the others retired to an ante-chamber, as the King had expressed a wish to get up. By the time Christian was dressed, he was quite convinced that Struensee had plotted against his life, and he was as eager to sign orders as he had at first been reluctant. First of all Juliana Maria impressed upon him that it was necessary to convey the Queen to some place where she could not work any further mischief, and the King, after some hesitation, wrote and signed an almost incoherent message to his consort:—J’ai trouvé à propos de vous envoïer à Cronbourg, comme vôtre conduite m’y oblige. J’en suis très faché, je n’en suis pas la cause, et je vous souhaite un repentir sincére.[20][20]In his agitation the King dated it 17th Jan., 1771.The King then signed orders, drawn up by Guldberg, for the arrest of Struensee, Brandt and fifteen other persons. He did this with alacrity, and seemed delighted at asserting his authority, and the prospect of being freed from the dominion of Struensee and Brandt. The orders which concerned Queen Matilda he copied out himself in full from Guldberg’s drafts; the others he merely signed. The orders concerning the Queen included the order to Rantzau to arrest her, the order to the head of the royal stables to make ready the coaches to convey her to Kronborg, and an order to the commandant of Kronborg to keep her in close confinement. These important matters settled, Juliana Maria persuaded Christian to remove to Prince Frederick’s apartments in another part of the palace. She had much more for him to do, and she was fearful of interruption. For hours the King remained in his brother’s apartments, signing orders, which were to give him, as he thought, freedom and authority, but which were really only forging the links of new chains, and transferring him from the comparatively mild rule of Struensee and Matilda to the strict keeping of the Queen-Dowager.Meanwhile, in different parts of the palace the King’s orders were being carried out without delay. On quitting the King’s apartments, Köller went to perform his task of arresting Struensee, accompanied by two or three officers of the palace guard and several soldiers. That Köller feared resistance may be gathered from the fact that he made thesenior officer promise him, in the event of his being killed, to shoot Struensee dead. Köller had a bitter hatred of Struensee, dating, it was said, a long while back, when the doctor had seduced the object of Köller’s affections. He had solicited the task of arresting Struensee, and now went to fulfil it with an eagerness born of revenge.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, andthe 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 Köllertold 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 deliveredover 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 treateden 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.About half an hour later Matilda was aroused by the entrance of one of her women, white and trembling, who said that a number of men were without demanding to see her immediately in the King’s name. In a moment the Queen suspected danger, and her first thought was to warn her lover. She sprang out of bed, and, with nothing on but her nightrobe, rushed barefooted into the next room, with the idea of gaining the secret staircase which led to Struensee’s apartments.In the ante-chamber the first object that greeted her eyes was Rantzau, seated in a chair and twirling his moustachios: he was dressed in full uniform, and had thrown over his shoulders a scarlet cloak lined with fur. At the Queen’s entrance he rose and bowed with great ceremony, evidently delighting in his part, of which any honest man would have been ashamed. In the ante-chamber beyond were several soldiers and frightened women. When the Queen saw Rantzau, she remembered her undress,and cried: “Eloignez-vous, Monsieur le Comte, pour l’amour de Dieu, car je ne suis pas présentable!” But, as Rantzau did not move, she ran back to her chamber, and threw on some more clothes; the delay was fatal to her.KING CHRISTIAN VII.'S NOTE TO QUEEN MATILDA INFORMING HER OF HER ARREST.KING CHRISTIAN VII.’S NOTE TO QUEEN MATILDA INFORMING HER OF HER ARREST.When she came forth again she found the room full of armed men, and the officer in command opposed her passage. She haughtily ordered him to let her pass, saying that his head would answer for it if he did not. Rantzau retorted that his head would answer for it if he did. The officer, in evident distress, said: “Madame, I only do my duty, and obey the orders of my King.” The Queen then turned to the door, behind which was a staircase leading down to Struensee’s apartments. But the door was closed and a soldier posted before it. “Where is Count Struensee?” she demanded; “I wish to see him.” “Madame,” said Rantzau with elaborate irony, “there is no Count Struensee any more, nor can your Majesty see him.” The Queen advanced boldly towards him, and demanded his authority for these insults. Rantzau handed her the King’s message. She read it through without displaying any alarm, and then threw it contemptuously on the ground.[21]“Ha!” she cried, “in this I recognise treachery, but not the King.” Amazed at the Queen’s fearless air,Rantzau for the moment changed his tone, and implored her to submit quietly to the King’s orders. “Orders!” she exclaimed, “orders about which he knows nothing—which have been extorted from him by terror! No, the Queen does not obey such orders.” Rantzau then said that nothing remained for him but to do his duty, which admitted of no delay. “I am the Queen; I will obey no orders except from the King’s own lips,” she replied. “Let me go to him! I must, and will, see him!” She knew that if she could only gain access to the King she was safe, for she could make him rescind the order and so confound her enemies. Full of this thought she advanced to the door of the ante-chamber, where two soldiers stood with crossed muskets to bar her progress. The Queen imperiously commanded them to let her pass, whereupon both men fell on their knees, and one said in Danish: “Our heads are answerable if we allow your Majesty to pass.” But, despite Rantzau’s exhortations, neither man cared to lay hands on the Queen, and she stepped over their muskets and ran along the corridor to the King’s apartments. They were closed, and, though she beat her hands upon the door, no answer was returned, for, fearing some such scene, the Queen-Dowager had, only a few minutes before, conveyed the King to the apartments of Prince Frederick. The corridor led nowhere else, and failing to gain entrance, the Queen, hardly knowing what she did, went back to her ante-room.[21]Rantzau picked the paper up and put it in his pocket. It was found a year or two after his death among his papers at Oppendorft (the estate that came to him through his wife), and has since been preserved.Rantzau now addressed her in the language of menace. Perhaps some memory of the homage he had paid her at Ascheberg, when she was at the zenith of her power, flashed across the Queen. “Villain!” she cried, “is this the language that you dare to address to me? Go, basest of men! Leave my presence!” These words only infuriated Rantzau the more, but he was crippled with gout, and could not grapple with the infuriated young Queen himself, so he turned to the soldiers, and gave them orders to use force. Still the soldiers hesitated. Then an officer stepped forward and touched the Queen on the arm with the intention of leading her back to her chamber. But half beside herself she rushed to the window, threw it open and seemed about to throw herself out. The officer seized her round the waist, and held her back; though no man dared to lay hands on the Queen, it was necessary to defend her against herself. The Queen shrieked for help and struggled wildly; she was strong and rendered desperate by fear and indignation. A lieutenant had to be called forward, but the Queen resisted him as well, though her clothes were partly torn off her in the struggle. At last her strength failed her, and she was dragged away from the window in a half-fainting condition. The officers, who had showed great repugnance to their task, and had used no more force than was absolutely necessary, now carried the Queen back to her chamber, and laid her on the bed, where her women, frightenedand weeping, crowded around her, and plied her with restoratives.Rantzau, who had watched this unseemly spectacle without emotion, nay, with positive zest, now sent a messenger to Osten, and asked him to come and induce the Queen to yield quietly. Although he had threatened to remove her by force, it was not easy to carry out his threat, for the soldiers would not offer violence to the person of the Queen, nor would public opinion, if it came to be known, tolerate it. Rantzau, who was alternately a bully and a coward, had no wish to put himself in an awkward position. He therefore did the wisest thing in sending for the foreign minister. Osten, who at the first tidings of Struensee’s arrest, had hastened to the Christiansborg, was in the Queen-Dowager’s apartments, making his terms with her. This astute diplomatist, though he plotted for the overthrow of Struensee, and was aware of all the facts of the conspiracy, had refrained from taking active part in it until its success was assured. Now that the King had thrown himself into the arms of the Queen-Dowager, and Struensee and Brandt were in prison, he no longer hesitated, but hastened to pay his court to the winning side. He came at once, on receipt of Rantzau’s message. He realised quite as much as Juliana Maria that the revolution could only be carried out thoroughly by Matilda’s removal. She had gained great ascendency over the King, and, if she saw him, that ascendency would be renewed; if she were separated from him,he would speedily forget her. Therefore, it was above all things necessary that the King and Queen should be kept apart.In a short time Queen Matilda became more composed, and even recovered sufficiently to dress herself with the aid of her women. When Osten entered her chamber, he found her sitting at the side of the bed, weeping. All defiance had faded away; she only felt herself a betrayed and cruelly injured woman. Osten came to her in the guise of a friend. He had been a colleague of Struensee’s, and had never outwardly broken with him, and the Queen had confidence in his skill and judgment. She therefore listened to him, when he persuaded her that more would be gained by complying with the King’s orders, at this time, than by resisting them. He hinted that her sojourn at Kronborg would only be for a time, and by-and-by the King’s humour would change. Moreover, the people were in a state of revolt against the Queen’s authority, and it was necessary for Matilda’s safety that she should be removed from Copenhagen to the shelter of Kronborg. “What have I done to the people?” the Queen asked. “I know that a good many changes have taken place, but I have done my utmost to further the welfare of the King and country according to my conscience.” Osten merely replied with quiet insistence that she had herself contemplated flight to Kronborg at the time of the tumult of the Norwegian sailors at Hirschholm. Believing the man to be her friend, the Queen yielded to hisadvice. “I have done nothing; the King will be just,” she said. She signified her willingness to go, provided that her children accompanied her. Here again difficulties were raised, but the Queen was firm, and said she would not budge a step unless her children went with her. Finally, a compromise was arrived at; Osten made her understand that the Crown Prince must not be removed, but she might take the little Princess, whom she was herself nursing. This being settled, the Queen’s preparations for departure were hurriedly made, and Fräulein Mösting, one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting, was ordered to go with her, and one of her bed-chamber women.The bleak January morning was still dark when Matilda, dressed for the journey, carrying her child in her arms and followed by two of her women, came out of her bedroom, and signified her readiness to start. Rantzau, who was still sitting in the ante-chamber, waiting, rose, and pointing to his gouty foot, said with covert insolence: “You see, Madam, that my feet fail me; but my arms are free, and I offer one to your Majesty to conduct you to your coach.” But she repulsed him with scorn, and exclaimed: “Away with you, traitor! I loathe you!” She walked alone down the stairs to the coaches, which were waiting in the back-yard of the palace. She entered one, but refused to part with the little Princess, whom she placed upon her knees. Fräulein Mösting sat by the Queen’s side, and the opposite seat was occupied by an officerwith his sword drawn. In the second coach followed the bed-chamber woman, the nurse of the Princess Louise Augusta, and some absolutely necessary luggage. The coaches were guarded by an escort of thirty dragoons, and the cavalcade clattered at a sharp trot through the streets of the still sleeping city, and was soon outside the gates of Copenhagen.The first part of the journey was in darkness, but, as the day broke, the Queen looked out on the frost-bound roads and the dreary country over which she was hurrying. She had ample time for reflection, and bitter her reflections must have been. A few hours before she had been Queen, vested, it seemed, with unlimited power, and the centre of a brilliant court; now she was a prisoner, stripped of all her power, and nearly all the semblance of her rank—a fugitive, she believed herself to be, fleeing from the vengeance of her people. Yet even now, in this supreme moment of her desolation, her thoughts were not of herself, but of the man who had brought her to such a pass. The road passed by the grounds of Hirschholm, the scene of many happy days, and the memory of them must have deepened the Queen’s dejection; but she said nothing, and throughout the long and tedious journey uttered no word, but sat motionless, the image of despair.Kronborg, whither the royal prisoner was being hurried, was a gloomy fortress erected by Frederick II. in the latter part of the sixteenth century, andrestored, after a fire, by Christian IV., nearly eighty years later. It had changed little with the flight of centuries, and remains much the same to-day. Built strongly of rough-hewn stone, which has taken on itself the colour of the rocks around, the massive and imposing castle springs directly from the sea, on the extreme point of land between the Cattegat and the narrowest part of the Sound, which separates Denmark from Sweden. Its massive walls, turrets and gables frown down upon the little town of Helsingor at its base.[22]Tradition says that deep down in its casemates slumbers Holgar Danske (“the Dane”), who will rise and come forth when his country is in peril.[23]He might have come forth in 1772, for Denmark was never in greater peril than on the eve of the palace revolution.[22]Helsingor, or Elsinore, now a busy town, is the scene of Shakespeare’s play, “Hamlet, Prince of Denmark,” and, on “the platform before the castle of Elsinore”—in other words, the flagged battlements of Kronborg—the ghost of “Hamlet” appeared. Local tradition also points out “the grave of Hamlet” and “the spring of Ophelia,” both, of course, legendary. Hamlet, in fact, never visited Elsinore, but was born and lived in Jutland. But Shakespeare shows a curious knowledge of Elsinore and Kronborg, and some light has been thrown on this subject by the discovery among the archives of Elsinore of a manuscript, which shows that in 1585 a wooden theatre, in which a troop of English comedians had been acting, was burned down. The names of the actors are given. Nearly all of them have been proved to belong to Shakespeare’s company, though the name of the poet is not among them. A monument is now being erected to Shakespeare at Kronborg, to which Queen Alexandra has contributed.[23]A well-known character in Hans Andersen’s fairy-tales. Two fragments of stone in the dungeons beneath Kronborg are still shown; one is said to serve as Holgar Danske’s pillow, and the other as his table.Kronborg was distant some twenty-four miles from Copenhagen, and the journey was covered in less than three hours. The day had broken when the melancholy cavalcade clattered through the street of Helsingor, and pulled up under the storm-beaten walls of Kronborg. At the outermost gate the officer in command of the Queen’s escort produced the King’s letter to the commandant, which gave his consort into his charge, and ordered her to be kept a strict prisoner. The commandant of Kronborg must have been much surprised at this communication, but he was a stern soldier, not given to questioning, and he obeyed his instructions to the letter. The outer gate was thrown open, and the little procession passed over the drawbridge, which spanned the green water of the moat, to the guard-house, where the escort from Copenhagen remained. The soldiers of the fortress then took charge of the two coaches, and they wound their way up the incline under the castle walls. They crossed another drawbridge, spanning a deep, dry ditch, and passed through the rough-hewn, tunnel-like entrance of stone, and out into the gloomy courtyard of the castle—a place where it would seem the sun never shines. Here the Queen, still carrying her child in her arms, alighted, and was hurried to a doorway on the left of the courtyard, up the winding stone stairs, and through a large room into the chamber set apart for her. This was a low, circular apartment in a tower, not more than ten feet high, and very small, with four windows, iron-barred, lookingout upon the sea. The grey waves broke directly beneath the windows, and were separated from the walls only by a strip of rampart, on which cannon were placed.[24][24]The traveller De Flaux, who visited Kronborg about 1850, thus wrote of the room: “In a tower is a small oval room, the windows of which are still lined with iron bars. It was here that the Queen was confined. I was shown theprie-dieuused by this unfortunate princess. It was on the faded velvet that covered it that she rested her beautiful head. Who knows whether the spots on it were not produced by the tears of despair she shed?” [Du Danemark.]I was at Kronborg in 1902. The Queen’s room is now destitute of any furniture, but the iron bars guarding the windows are still there. I looked through them at the sea beneath. It was a grey, windy day; the waves were lead-coloured and flecked with white, and overhead were drifting masses of cloud. On such a scene Queen Matilda must have often gazed during the five months of her captivity.The unhappy Queen looked round the narrow walls of this room, which was almost a cell, with astonishment not unmixed with indignation. She had hardly realised until now that she was a prisoner, for the crafty Osten had conveyed to her the idea that she was going to Kronborg more for her own safety than as a captive. But the iron-barred windows, and the guard outside her door, brought home to her her unfortunate condition. At least she, the daughter of kings, the wife of a king, and the mother of a king to be, had the right to be treated with the respect due to her rank and dignity. Whatever offences were charged against her nothing was yet proved. Even if she were a prisoner, she was at least a state prisoner, and though her liberty might be curtailed, every effortshould have been made to study as far as possible her comfort and convenience. But locked into this little room, barely furnished and without a fire, she found herself treated more like a common criminal than the reigning Queen, and when she protested against these indignities, the commandant told her that he was only obeying his strict orders. The Queen, whose spirit was for the moment broken by fatigue and excitement, and who was nearly frozen from the cold of the long journey, sank down upon the pallet bed, and burst into bitter weeping. Her women endeavoured in vain to comfort her, and it was only at last, when they reminded her of her child, that she was roused from the abandonment of her grief. “You are here too, dear innocent!” sheexclaimed. “In that case, your poor mother is not utterly desolate.”THE ROOM IN WHICH QUEEN MATILDA WAS IMPRISONED AT KRONBORG.THE ROOM IN WHICH QUEEN MATILDA WAS IMPRISONED AT KRONBORG.For two days the Queen remained inconsolable, and did little but sit in a state of stupor, looking out upon the waves; nor could she be prevailed upon to take any rest, or food, or even to lie down upon the bed. It was true that the food offered her was such that she could not eat it, unless compelled by the pangs of hunger, for she was given at first the same food as that served out to the common prisoners. In these first days it was a wonder that she did not die of hunger and cold. It was a bitter winter, violent gales blew across the sea, and the wind shrieked and raged around the castle walls; but there was no way of warming the little room in which the Queen was confined. In her hurried departure from Copenhagen she had brought with her very few clothes. No others were sent her, and she had hardly the things necessary to clothe herself with propriety, or protect herself against the severity of the weather. She was not allowed to pass the threshold of her room, not even to the large room beyond, where there was a fire. This room was occupied by soldiers, who acted as her jailors, and the women who passed in and out of the Queen’s room were liable to be searched.This treatment of the Queen, for which there was no excuse, must be traced directly to Juliana Maria; it was she who caused instructions to be sent to the commandant as to how he was to treat his royal prisoner. The King was too indifferentto trouble one way or another, and the commandant would not have dared to inflict such indignities on the King’s consort unless he had received strict orders to do so from those in authority—nor would he have wished to do so. Later the Queen acquitted him from all responsibility in this respect. After the first few days, when she had recovered from the shock of recent events, Queen Matilda accepted her imprisonment more patiently, and bore her hardships with a dignity and fortitude which enforced respect even from her jailors, and proved that she was no unworthy daughter of the illustrious house from which she sprang.

THE PALACE REVOLUTION.

1772.

At four o’clock in the morning the little group of conspirators assembled in the apartments of the Queen-Dowager. They were eight in all—Juliana Maria, Prince Frederick, Guldberg, Rantzau, Eickstedt, Köller, Beringskjold and Jessen—not, at first sight, a powerful list to effect a revolution; but they had the army at their command, and the whole nation at their back. Moreover, some, at least, of them were sustained by the high consciousness that they were doing a righteous work, and the others were desperate men, who had all to gain and nothing to lose. Guldberg rehearsed to each one of the conspirators his separate duty, that nothing might be forgotten. Then, at the request of the Queen-Dowager, all knelt down, and a prayer was offered, invoking the Divine blessing on the undertaking.[19]

[19]The following account of the palace revolution is based on several authorities: some are favourable to the Queen, others against her. They more or less agree on the main facts, which are those set forth in this chapter, though they conflict as to details. Among them may be mentioned theMemoirsof Falckenskjold, Köller-Banner and Reverdil, all of whom played a part in the affair;Mémoires de mon Temps, by Prince Charles of Hesse (privately printed), the Private Journal of N. W. Wraxall, who claims to have based his narrative on the statements of Bülow and Le Texier, theMemoirs and Correspondence of Sir R. Murray Keith, and sundry depositions made at the Queen’s trial. There are a great many other accounts in printed books, but they are nearly all based on these sources.

When they rose from their knees, all the conspirators, guided by Jessen and headed by the Queen-Dowager, went silently along the dark passages to the apartments of the King. In the ante-chamber they found the King’s valet fast asleep. They roused him, and told him they wished to see his Majesty immediately. Seeing the Queen-Dowager and Prince Frederick, the valet was willing to obey without demur; but the main door of the King’s bed-chamber was locked from within, and they were therefore obliged to go round by the secret staircase. The valet went in front to guide them, and immediately behind him came Guldberg, carrying a candle. The others followed in single line, and soon found themselves in Christian’s bedroom.

The King awoke with a start, and, seeing in the dim light the room full of men, cried out in terror. The Queen-Dowager approached the bed, and said in reassuring accents: “Your Majesty, my dear son, be not afraid. We are not come hither as enemies, but as your true friends. We have come——” Here Juliana Maria broke down, and her voice was stifled by her sobs. Rantzau, who had agreed to explain the plan to the King, hung back. But Köller thrust him forward, and then he told the King that his Majesty’s brother and stepmother had come to deliver him and the countryfrom the hated yoke of Struensee. By this time the Queen-Dowager had recovered her nerve, and, embracing her stepson, she repeated what Rantzau had said with ample detail. The King, who was almost fainting with excitement and terror, demanded a glass of water, and, when he had drunk it, asked if the commandant of the palace guard were present. Eickstedt stepped forward, and confirmed what the Queen-Dowager and Rantzau had said, and added that the people were in a state of revolt, for a plot was being carried out to depose the King, in which Struensee and the Queen were concerned. When the King heard the Queen’s name, he refused to believe that she had anything to do with it, and said the story must be a mistake. But the Queen-Dowager assured him that Matilda was privy to it, and told him the whole of the supposed plot against his royal authority and person. Guldberg confirmed the Queen-Dowager’s statement in every particular, and declared there was no time to be lost.

The bewildered King, at last half-convinced, asked what was to be done. Rantzau then pulled out of his pocket two written orders, and asked him to sign them. By the first, Eickstedt was made commander-in-chief, and by the second, Eickstedt and Köller were vested with full powers to take all measures necessary for the safety of the King and the country. Thus the obedience of the army would be assured. When Christian read these orders, he feared a conflict between the people and the military, for he exclaimed: “My God! thiswill mean rivers of blood.” But Rantzau, who by this time had regained his assurance, replied: “Be of good cheer, your Majesty. With God’s help, I take everything upon myself, and will as far as possible prevent bloodshed.” The King sat up in bed and signed the two orders; Prince Frederick counter-signed them.

Eickstedt took the first and immediately left the room; he placed himself at the head of the picket of dragoons waiting below, and rode to the garrison to inform the officers on duty of his new appointment as commander-in-chief. He promptly strengthened the palace guard, had all the gates of the city closed, and bade the garrison hold itself in readiness for any event.

Köller also took his order, and with the others retired to an ante-chamber, as the King had expressed a wish to get up. By the time Christian was dressed, he was quite convinced that Struensee had plotted against his life, and he was as eager to sign orders as he had at first been reluctant. First of all Juliana Maria impressed upon him that it was necessary to convey the Queen to some place where she could not work any further mischief, and the King, after some hesitation, wrote and signed an almost incoherent message to his consort:—

J’ai trouvé à propos de vous envoïer à Cronbourg, comme vôtre conduite m’y oblige. J’en suis très faché, je n’en suis pas la cause, et je vous souhaite un repentir sincére.[20]

[20]In his agitation the King dated it 17th Jan., 1771.

The King then signed orders, drawn up by Guldberg, for the arrest of Struensee, Brandt and fifteen other persons. He did this with alacrity, and seemed delighted at asserting his authority, and the prospect of being freed from the dominion of Struensee and Brandt. The orders which concerned Queen Matilda he copied out himself in full from Guldberg’s drafts; the others he merely signed. The orders concerning the Queen included the order to Rantzau to arrest her, the order to the head of the royal stables to make ready the coaches to convey her to Kronborg, and an order to the commandant of Kronborg to keep her in close confinement. These important matters settled, Juliana Maria persuaded Christian to remove to Prince Frederick’s apartments in another part of the palace. She had much more for him to do, and she was fearful of interruption. For hours the King remained in his brother’s apartments, signing orders, which were to give him, as he thought, freedom and authority, but which were really only forging the links of new chains, and transferring him from the comparatively mild rule of Struensee and Matilda to the strict keeping of the Queen-Dowager.

Meanwhile, in different parts of the palace the King’s orders were being carried out without delay. On quitting the King’s apartments, Köller went to perform his task of arresting Struensee, accompanied by two or three officers of the palace guard and several soldiers. That Köller feared resistance may be gathered from the fact that he made thesenior officer promise him, in the event of his being killed, to shoot Struensee dead. Köller had a bitter hatred of Struensee, dating, it was said, a long while back, when the doctor had seduced the object of Köller’s affections. He had solicited the task of arresting Struensee, and now went to fulfil it with an eagerness born of revenge.

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, andthe 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 Köllertold 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 deliveredover 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 treateden 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.

About half an hour later Matilda was aroused by the entrance of one of her women, white and trembling, who said that a number of men were without demanding to see her immediately in the King’s name. In a moment the Queen suspected danger, and her first thought was to warn her lover. She sprang out of bed, and, with nothing on but her nightrobe, rushed barefooted into the next room, with the idea of gaining the secret staircase which led to Struensee’s apartments.

In the ante-chamber the first object that greeted her eyes was Rantzau, seated in a chair and twirling his moustachios: he was dressed in full uniform, and had thrown over his shoulders a scarlet cloak lined with fur. At the Queen’s entrance he rose and bowed with great ceremony, evidently delighting in his part, of which any honest man would have been ashamed. In the ante-chamber beyond were several soldiers and frightened women. When the Queen saw Rantzau, she remembered her undress,and cried: “Eloignez-vous, Monsieur le Comte, pour l’amour de Dieu, car je ne suis pas présentable!” But, as Rantzau did not move, she ran back to her chamber, and threw on some more clothes; the delay was fatal to her.

KING CHRISTIAN VII.'S NOTE TO QUEEN MATILDA INFORMING HER OF HER ARREST.KING CHRISTIAN VII.’S NOTE TO QUEEN MATILDA INFORMING HER OF HER ARREST.

KING CHRISTIAN VII.’S NOTE TO QUEEN MATILDA INFORMING HER OF HER ARREST.

When she came forth again she found the room full of armed men, and the officer in command opposed her passage. She haughtily ordered him to let her pass, saying that his head would answer for it if he did not. Rantzau retorted that his head would answer for it if he did. The officer, in evident distress, said: “Madame, I only do my duty, and obey the orders of my King.” The Queen then turned to the door, behind which was a staircase leading down to Struensee’s apartments. But the door was closed and a soldier posted before it. “Where is Count Struensee?” she demanded; “I wish to see him.” “Madame,” said Rantzau with elaborate irony, “there is no Count Struensee any more, nor can your Majesty see him.” The Queen advanced boldly towards him, and demanded his authority for these insults. Rantzau handed her the King’s message. She read it through without displaying any alarm, and then threw it contemptuously on the ground.[21]“Ha!” she cried, “in this I recognise treachery, but not the King.” Amazed at the Queen’s fearless air,Rantzau for the moment changed his tone, and implored her to submit quietly to the King’s orders. “Orders!” she exclaimed, “orders about which he knows nothing—which have been extorted from him by terror! No, the Queen does not obey such orders.” Rantzau then said that nothing remained for him but to do his duty, which admitted of no delay. “I am the Queen; I will obey no orders except from the King’s own lips,” she replied. “Let me go to him! I must, and will, see him!” She knew that if she could only gain access to the King she was safe, for she could make him rescind the order and so confound her enemies. Full of this thought she advanced to the door of the ante-chamber, where two soldiers stood with crossed muskets to bar her progress. The Queen imperiously commanded them to let her pass, whereupon both men fell on their knees, and one said in Danish: “Our heads are answerable if we allow your Majesty to pass.” But, despite Rantzau’s exhortations, neither man cared to lay hands on the Queen, and she stepped over their muskets and ran along the corridor to the King’s apartments. They were closed, and, though she beat her hands upon the door, no answer was returned, for, fearing some such scene, the Queen-Dowager had, only a few minutes before, conveyed the King to the apartments of Prince Frederick. The corridor led nowhere else, and failing to gain entrance, the Queen, hardly knowing what she did, went back to her ante-room.

[21]Rantzau picked the paper up and put it in his pocket. It was found a year or two after his death among his papers at Oppendorft (the estate that came to him through his wife), and has since been preserved.

Rantzau now addressed her in the language of menace. Perhaps some memory of the homage he had paid her at Ascheberg, when she was at the zenith of her power, flashed across the Queen. “Villain!” she cried, “is this the language that you dare to address to me? Go, basest of men! Leave my presence!” These words only infuriated Rantzau the more, but he was crippled with gout, and could not grapple with the infuriated young Queen himself, so he turned to the soldiers, and gave them orders to use force. Still the soldiers hesitated. Then an officer stepped forward and touched the Queen on the arm with the intention of leading her back to her chamber. But half beside herself she rushed to the window, threw it open and seemed about to throw herself out. The officer seized her round the waist, and held her back; though no man dared to lay hands on the Queen, it was necessary to defend her against herself. The Queen shrieked for help and struggled wildly; she was strong and rendered desperate by fear and indignation. A lieutenant had to be called forward, but the Queen resisted him as well, though her clothes were partly torn off her in the struggle. At last her strength failed her, and she was dragged away from the window in a half-fainting condition. The officers, who had showed great repugnance to their task, and had used no more force than was absolutely necessary, now carried the Queen back to her chamber, and laid her on the bed, where her women, frightenedand weeping, crowded around her, and plied her with restoratives.

Rantzau, who had watched this unseemly spectacle without emotion, nay, with positive zest, now sent a messenger to Osten, and asked him to come and induce the Queen to yield quietly. Although he had threatened to remove her by force, it was not easy to carry out his threat, for the soldiers would not offer violence to the person of the Queen, nor would public opinion, if it came to be known, tolerate it. Rantzau, who was alternately a bully and a coward, had no wish to put himself in an awkward position. He therefore did the wisest thing in sending for the foreign minister. Osten, who at the first tidings of Struensee’s arrest, had hastened to the Christiansborg, was in the Queen-Dowager’s apartments, making his terms with her. This astute diplomatist, though he plotted for the overthrow of Struensee, and was aware of all the facts of the conspiracy, had refrained from taking active part in it until its success was assured. Now that the King had thrown himself into the arms of the Queen-Dowager, and Struensee and Brandt were in prison, he no longer hesitated, but hastened to pay his court to the winning side. He came at once, on receipt of Rantzau’s message. He realised quite as much as Juliana Maria that the revolution could only be carried out thoroughly by Matilda’s removal. She had gained great ascendency over the King, and, if she saw him, that ascendency would be renewed; if she were separated from him,he would speedily forget her. Therefore, it was above all things necessary that the King and Queen should be kept apart.

In a short time Queen Matilda became more composed, and even recovered sufficiently to dress herself with the aid of her women. When Osten entered her chamber, he found her sitting at the side of the bed, weeping. All defiance had faded away; she only felt herself a betrayed and cruelly injured woman. Osten came to her in the guise of a friend. He had been a colleague of Struensee’s, and had never outwardly broken with him, and the Queen had confidence in his skill and judgment. She therefore listened to him, when he persuaded her that more would be gained by complying with the King’s orders, at this time, than by resisting them. He hinted that her sojourn at Kronborg would only be for a time, and by-and-by the King’s humour would change. Moreover, the people were in a state of revolt against the Queen’s authority, and it was necessary for Matilda’s safety that she should be removed from Copenhagen to the shelter of Kronborg. “What have I done to the people?” the Queen asked. “I know that a good many changes have taken place, but I have done my utmost to further the welfare of the King and country according to my conscience.” Osten merely replied with quiet insistence that she had herself contemplated flight to Kronborg at the time of the tumult of the Norwegian sailors at Hirschholm. Believing the man to be her friend, the Queen yielded to hisadvice. “I have done nothing; the King will be just,” she said. She signified her willingness to go, provided that her children accompanied her. Here again difficulties were raised, but the Queen was firm, and said she would not budge a step unless her children went with her. Finally, a compromise was arrived at; Osten made her understand that the Crown Prince must not be removed, but she might take the little Princess, whom she was herself nursing. This being settled, the Queen’s preparations for departure were hurriedly made, and Fräulein Mösting, one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting, was ordered to go with her, and one of her bed-chamber women.

The bleak January morning was still dark when Matilda, dressed for the journey, carrying her child in her arms and followed by two of her women, came out of her bedroom, and signified her readiness to start. Rantzau, who was still sitting in the ante-chamber, waiting, rose, and pointing to his gouty foot, said with covert insolence: “You see, Madam, that my feet fail me; but my arms are free, and I offer one to your Majesty to conduct you to your coach.” But she repulsed him with scorn, and exclaimed: “Away with you, traitor! I loathe you!” She walked alone down the stairs to the coaches, which were waiting in the back-yard of the palace. She entered one, but refused to part with the little Princess, whom she placed upon her knees. Fräulein Mösting sat by the Queen’s side, and the opposite seat was occupied by an officerwith his sword drawn. In the second coach followed the bed-chamber woman, the nurse of the Princess Louise Augusta, and some absolutely necessary luggage. The coaches were guarded by an escort of thirty dragoons, and the cavalcade clattered at a sharp trot through the streets of the still sleeping city, and was soon outside the gates of Copenhagen.

The first part of the journey was in darkness, but, as the day broke, the Queen looked out on the frost-bound roads and the dreary country over which she was hurrying. She had ample time for reflection, and bitter her reflections must have been. A few hours before she had been Queen, vested, it seemed, with unlimited power, and the centre of a brilliant court; now she was a prisoner, stripped of all her power, and nearly all the semblance of her rank—a fugitive, she believed herself to be, fleeing from the vengeance of her people. Yet even now, in this supreme moment of her desolation, her thoughts were not of herself, but of the man who had brought her to such a pass. The road passed by the grounds of Hirschholm, the scene of many happy days, and the memory of them must have deepened the Queen’s dejection; but she said nothing, and throughout the long and tedious journey uttered no word, but sat motionless, the image of despair.

Kronborg, whither the royal prisoner was being hurried, was a gloomy fortress erected by Frederick II. in the latter part of the sixteenth century, andrestored, after a fire, by Christian IV., nearly eighty years later. It had changed little with the flight of centuries, and remains much the same to-day. Built strongly of rough-hewn stone, which has taken on itself the colour of the rocks around, the massive and imposing castle springs directly from the sea, on the extreme point of land between the Cattegat and the narrowest part of the Sound, which separates Denmark from Sweden. Its massive walls, turrets and gables frown down upon the little town of Helsingor at its base.[22]Tradition says that deep down in its casemates slumbers Holgar Danske (“the Dane”), who will rise and come forth when his country is in peril.[23]He might have come forth in 1772, for Denmark was never in greater peril than on the eve of the palace revolution.

[22]Helsingor, or Elsinore, now a busy town, is the scene of Shakespeare’s play, “Hamlet, Prince of Denmark,” and, on “the platform before the castle of Elsinore”—in other words, the flagged battlements of Kronborg—the ghost of “Hamlet” appeared. Local tradition also points out “the grave of Hamlet” and “the spring of Ophelia,” both, of course, legendary. Hamlet, in fact, never visited Elsinore, but was born and lived in Jutland. But Shakespeare shows a curious knowledge of Elsinore and Kronborg, and some light has been thrown on this subject by the discovery among the archives of Elsinore of a manuscript, which shows that in 1585 a wooden theatre, in which a troop of English comedians had been acting, was burned down. The names of the actors are given. Nearly all of them have been proved to belong to Shakespeare’s company, though the name of the poet is not among them. A monument is now being erected to Shakespeare at Kronborg, to which Queen Alexandra has contributed.

[23]A well-known character in Hans Andersen’s fairy-tales. Two fragments of stone in the dungeons beneath Kronborg are still shown; one is said to serve as Holgar Danske’s pillow, and the other as his table.

Kronborg was distant some twenty-four miles from Copenhagen, and the journey was covered in less than three hours. The day had broken when the melancholy cavalcade clattered through the street of Helsingor, and pulled up under the storm-beaten walls of Kronborg. At the outermost gate the officer in command of the Queen’s escort produced the King’s letter to the commandant, which gave his consort into his charge, and ordered her to be kept a strict prisoner. The commandant of Kronborg must have been much surprised at this communication, but he was a stern soldier, not given to questioning, and he obeyed his instructions to the letter. The outer gate was thrown open, and the little procession passed over the drawbridge, which spanned the green water of the moat, to the guard-house, where the escort from Copenhagen remained. The soldiers of the fortress then took charge of the two coaches, and they wound their way up the incline under the castle walls. They crossed another drawbridge, spanning a deep, dry ditch, and passed through the rough-hewn, tunnel-like entrance of stone, and out into the gloomy courtyard of the castle—a place where it would seem the sun never shines. Here the Queen, still carrying her child in her arms, alighted, and was hurried to a doorway on the left of the courtyard, up the winding stone stairs, and through a large room into the chamber set apart for her. This was a low, circular apartment in a tower, not more than ten feet high, and very small, with four windows, iron-barred, lookingout upon the sea. The grey waves broke directly beneath the windows, and were separated from the walls only by a strip of rampart, on which cannon were placed.[24]

[24]The traveller De Flaux, who visited Kronborg about 1850, thus wrote of the room: “In a tower is a small oval room, the windows of which are still lined with iron bars. It was here that the Queen was confined. I was shown theprie-dieuused by this unfortunate princess. It was on the faded velvet that covered it that she rested her beautiful head. Who knows whether the spots on it were not produced by the tears of despair she shed?” [Du Danemark.]I was at Kronborg in 1902. The Queen’s room is now destitute of any furniture, but the iron bars guarding the windows are still there. I looked through them at the sea beneath. It was a grey, windy day; the waves were lead-coloured and flecked with white, and overhead were drifting masses of cloud. On such a scene Queen Matilda must have often gazed during the five months of her captivity.

I was at Kronborg in 1902. The Queen’s room is now destitute of any furniture, but the iron bars guarding the windows are still there. I looked through them at the sea beneath. It was a grey, windy day; the waves were lead-coloured and flecked with white, and overhead were drifting masses of cloud. On such a scene Queen Matilda must have often gazed during the five months of her captivity.

The unhappy Queen looked round the narrow walls of this room, which was almost a cell, with astonishment not unmixed with indignation. She had hardly realised until now that she was a prisoner, for the crafty Osten had conveyed to her the idea that she was going to Kronborg more for her own safety than as a captive. But the iron-barred windows, and the guard outside her door, brought home to her her unfortunate condition. At least she, the daughter of kings, the wife of a king, and the mother of a king to be, had the right to be treated with the respect due to her rank and dignity. Whatever offences were charged against her nothing was yet proved. Even if she were a prisoner, she was at least a state prisoner, and though her liberty might be curtailed, every effortshould have been made to study as far as possible her comfort and convenience. But locked into this little room, barely furnished and without a fire, she found herself treated more like a common criminal than the reigning Queen, and when she protested against these indignities, the commandant told her that he was only obeying his strict orders. The Queen, whose spirit was for the moment broken by fatigue and excitement, and who was nearly frozen from the cold of the long journey, sank down upon the pallet bed, and burst into bitter weeping. Her women endeavoured in vain to comfort her, and it was only at last, when they reminded her of her child, that she was roused from the abandonment of her grief. “You are here too, dear innocent!” sheexclaimed. “In that case, your poor mother is not utterly desolate.”

THE ROOM IN WHICH QUEEN MATILDA WAS IMPRISONED AT KRONBORG.THE ROOM IN WHICH QUEEN MATILDA WAS IMPRISONED AT KRONBORG.

THE ROOM IN WHICH QUEEN MATILDA WAS IMPRISONED AT KRONBORG.

For two days the Queen remained inconsolable, and did little but sit in a state of stupor, looking out upon the waves; nor could she be prevailed upon to take any rest, or food, or even to lie down upon the bed. It was true that the food offered her was such that she could not eat it, unless compelled by the pangs of hunger, for she was given at first the same food as that served out to the common prisoners. In these first days it was a wonder that she did not die of hunger and cold. It was a bitter winter, violent gales blew across the sea, and the wind shrieked and raged around the castle walls; but there was no way of warming the little room in which the Queen was confined. In her hurried departure from Copenhagen she had brought with her very few clothes. No others were sent her, and she had hardly the things necessary to clothe herself with propriety, or protect herself against the severity of the weather. She was not allowed to pass the threshold of her room, not even to the large room beyond, where there was a fire. This room was occupied by soldiers, who acted as her jailors, and the women who passed in and out of the Queen’s room were liable to be searched.

This treatment of the Queen, for which there was no excuse, must be traced directly to Juliana Maria; it was she who caused instructions to be sent to the commandant as to how he was to treat his royal prisoner. The King was too indifferentto trouble one way or another, and the commandant would not have dared to inflict such indignities on the King’s consort unless he had received strict orders to do so from those in authority—nor would he have wished to do so. Later the Queen acquitted him from all responsibility in this respect. After the first few days, when she had recovered from the shock of recent events, Queen Matilda accepted her imprisonment more patiently, and bore her hardships with a dignity and fortitude which enforced respect even from her jailors, and proved that she was no unworthy daughter of the illustrious house from which she sprang.

CHAPTER V.THE TRIUMPH OF THE QUEEN-DOWAGER.1772.When day dawned on January 17, the citizens of Copenhagen awoke to the fact that the hated rule of Struensee was gone for ever. The constant driving through the streets during the night had attracted little attention, for the noise was thought to arise from the guests returning from the ball at the palace; but when morning came, and the streets were seen to be full of soldiers, the people realised that something unusual had happened. First there came a rumour of a fresh outrage on the part of Struensee, and of an attempt to assassinate the King. But swift on the heels of this came the truth: the King, with the aid of the Queen-Dowager and his brother, had asserted himself; the favourite and his colleagues were in prison, and Queen Matilda had been conveyed to Kronborg. During the silent hours of the night a revolution had been effected, and the mob, like all mobs, shouted on the winning side. The news ran like wildfire round Copenhagen, and soon every one was in the streets. On all sides were heard shouts of “Long live King Christian VII.!” and many cheers were raised for the Queen-Dowager and Prince Frederick. The people converged towards the Christiansborg Palace, and completely filled the space in front of it, shouting and cheering.At ten o’clock in the morning the King, who, until now, had been busy signing orders of arrest, and sanctioning appointments of others to fill the place of those arrested, appeared upon the balcony, with his brother by his side, while the Queen-Dowager, more modest, showed herself at the window in an undress. Their appearance was greeted with deafening shouts by the crowd, to which the King and the Prince responded by bows, and Juliana Maria by waving her handkerchief. The enthusiasm grew more and more, until at last the King joined in the cheers of his people. The Queen-Dowager had not miscalculated her forces: without doubt the people were on her side.The citizens now began to deck their houses with flags and bunting, and everywhere kept high holiday. Even the heavens seemed to rejoice at the downfall of the hated administration, for the sun came out, and shone with a brilliance that had not been known in January in Copenhagen for years. About noon the gates of the Christiansborg Palace were thrown open, and the King, splendidly dressed, with his brother seated by his side, drove forth in a state coach drawn by eight white horses to show himself to his people. For the first time for months the King dispensed with all escort, and, except for the running footmen and postilions,the royal coach was unattended. The King drove through all the principal streets. The crowd was so great that it was with difficulty the coach could make way, and the people pressed and surged around it, and in their enthusiasm wanted to take out the horses and drag the coach themselves. The women especially were wild with delight, and waved their handkerchiefs frantically; some even pulled off their headgear, and waved it in the air, the better to testify their joy at seeing their beloved Sovereign safe and sound, and freed from his hated guardians. The King, however, when the novelty of the situation was over, relapsed into his usual apathy, and did not respond to the greeting of his loving subjects, but kept his window up, and stared through it indifferently at the crowd; but Prince Frederick, who was usually undemonstrative, had let the window down on his side of the coach, and bowed and smiled incessantly.The King held a court in the afternoon at the palace, and was supported on one side by the Queen-Dowager and on the other by his brother. The court was crowded, and by a very different class of people to those who had appeared during the brief reign of Struensee. Many of the nobility, who had heard the glad news, hurried into Copenhagen to personally offer their congratulations to the three royal personages on the overthrow of the detested German Junto. All the Queen-Dowager’s party, all the principal clergy, and all who had taken part in the conspiracy, directly orindirectly, were present; and many more who knew of it, but held aloof until it was an accomplished fact, were now eager to pay their court. The King remained only a short time, and left the Queen-Dowager and Prince Frederick to receive the rest of the company, and they did with right good will, rejoicing in their new-found dignity and importance. It was their hour of triumph, and the inauguration of the clique which governed Denmark for the next twelve years.In the evening the three royal personages drove to the opera through cheering crowds, and when they entered their box the whole house rose in enthusiasm. Their return to the palace was a triumphal procession, the people forming their guard as before. At night the city was illuminated; every house displayed lights in its windows, and bonfires were kindled in the streets. Salvoes of artillery were fired from the ramparts, and rockets were sent up. The whole population seemed mad with joy. So great was the illumination that the sky was lit up for miles around. At far-off Kronborg Queen Matilda, peering through her iron bars, saw the light in the sky over towards the capital, and asked what it meant. She was told that it was Copenhagen rejoicing over her downfall.[25][25]Mémoires de Reverdil.The popular rejoicings were marred by gross excesses, though considering the excited state of public opinion it is a wonder that more were not committed. Some of the lowest characters hadturned into the streets, and the sailors and dockyard men, who especially hated Struensee, were drunk with wine and excitement. The mob, not content with bonfires, soon showed signs of rioting. They broke into the house of one of Struensee’s supporters and wrecked it, carried off the furniture, and smashed the windows. In the cellar there was a large stock of spirits. The rioters broke the casks open, drank what they would, and upset the rest, with the result that they waded up to their ankles in liquor. Inflamed by drink they next attacked other houses. The police, unable to check the riot, which had grown to dangerous proportions, applied to Eickstedt for soldiers to aid them. But the Queen-Dowager was unwilling to call out the military, as she thought a conflict might bring about bloodshed and so damp the popular enthusiasm. Therefore, instead of soldiers, Prince Frederick’s chamberlain was sent to the scene of disturbance, with instructions to thank the people for the rejoicings they had manifested on the King’s deliverance from his enemies, and a promise that the King would especially remember the sailors (who were among the most tumultuous of the rioters), if they would now go quietly home. But the mob had by this time got out of hand, and either did not, or would not, listen. They rushed towards the royal stables, with the intention of smashing Struensee’s coach, but were prevented by the palace guard. They then endeavoured to wreck the house of the chief of the police, but being foiled in this attempt also, they began to plunderthemont-de-pieté. At this point the soldiers had to be called out, and they succeeded in dispersing the rioters without bloodshed. Next day the streets were patrolled by the burgher guard, and in the afternoon heralds rode round the city, and at certain points read a message from the King, in which he thanked his loyal people for their enthusiasm, but regretted that their zeal had got the better of their discretion. He forbade any further plundering or excesses under heavy penalties. After this the people gradually quieted down, but it was a week before the patrol could be removed.Meanwhile the Queen-Dowager was occupied in distributing honours among her adherents. The arch-conspirator, Rantzau, at last received the reward of his intrigues. He was made General-in-Chief of the infantry, and a Knight of the Elephant, and his debts were paid in full from the royal treasury. It may be that the part he had played in the arrest of Matilda, and the callousness and insolence he had shown to the unfortunate Queen, quickened the sense of Juliana Maria’s gratitude; for she rewarded him promptly and handsomely. Eickstedt and Köller were promoted to be full generals, and decorated with the order of the Dannebrog. Köller, who was a Pomeranian by birth, was offered naturalisation, with the name of Banner, an extinct Danish noble family. Köller accepted, saying that he intended henceforth to devote his life to Denmark, and was known from this time as Köller-Banner. He was also given a court appointment as aide-de-camp to the King,with apartments in the royal palace. Beringskjold was appointed Grand Chamberlain, and received a pension of two thousand dollars, and a further present of forty thousand dollars paid down. His elder son was appointed a court page, and the younger was promised a captaincy. All the officers of the palace guard who had done duty on the eventful night were promoted a step. Major Carstenskjold, who had conducted Matilda to Kronborg with his drawn sabre and forty dragoons, was made a lieutenant-colonel. Colonel Sames, who had arrested Brandt, received a present of ten thousand dollars. Jessen was created a councillor of justice, and received a gift of two thousand dollars. Rewards were also given to minor personages.The only one of the conspirators who received no reward, though he was in reality the chief among them, was Guldberg, who declared that the success of the enterprise was sufficient reward for him, and he required neither money nor titles.[26]Guldberg was sure of his influence with the Queen-Dowager; he knew, too, that his apparent disinterestedness would carry weight with the people, and so strengthen his position. He had reserved for himself the power behind the throne, and he filled in the new government something of the place that Struensee had filled in the old. That is to say, he had great influence over the Queen-Dowager; he was the indispensable man, he directed the policy, and no appointmentswere made of which he did not approve. But unlike Struensee he conducted himself with infinite tact and discretion.[26]He later took the name of Hoegh-Guldberg, and became a minister of state.As the Struensee administration had been destroyed root and branch, it was necessary to make several new appointments to carry on the government of the country. The first care of the Queen-Dowager was to appoint some one to act as the King’s keeper—some one who would guard him well—for Christian VII.’s formal consent was absolutely necessary for every step she took. The King was now in so weak-minded a condition, and so easily influenced, that any one who had possession of him could make him sign any order he would. All the same Juliana Maria had some difficulty in getting the King to consent to a new guardian, or “personal attendant,” as he was called, to take Brandt’s place. A long list of names was submitted to him, but he refused them one by one until at last, when the Queen-Dowager mentioned Osten’s name, the King said: “Yes, I will have him.” But Osten did not care to exchange his influential post as minister of foreign affairs for that of the King’s companion, and declined the honour. So Köller-Banner, who was a great favourite of the Queen-Dowager, was appointed to the office. The Queen-Dowager was anxious to win the support of the old Danish nobility to the new Government. Therefore, Count Otto Thott and Councillor Schack-Rathlou, who had been dismissed by Struensee, were invited to take part again in the business of state. Bernstorff’s recall was urgedby a powerful section, but Osten and Rantzau both opposed it violently, for they feared the return of this upright and conscientious man.[27]Guldberg, too, was afraid that a statesman of Bernstorff’s eminence would prove a rival to his ambition. The Queen-Dowager also did not wish to recall Bernstorff, because of his well-known devotion to the royal house of England. She feared that he would interfere on behalf of Matilda, of whom she was very jealous. She determined to make her feel the full weight of her vengeance.[27]In spite of this opposition in time Bernstorff might have come back, but his health was failing, and he died in the autumn of 1772, at the age of sixty years, at Grabow.COUNT BERNSTORFF.COUNT BERNSTORFF.The bitter feeling against Struensee seemed to increase as the days went by, and on every side were heard cries for vengeance. On January 19, the first Sunday after the revolution,Te Deumswere sung in all the churches of Copenhagen; and throughout the kingdom, wherever the news had penetrated, there was a thanksgiving to Almighty God for the overthrow of the godless Government. The clergy, who had been especially hostile to Struensee, and done much to bring about his fall, did not hesitate to improve the occasion from their pulpits, and spoke of “the fearful vengeance of the Lord” which had fallen upon wickedness in high places. Nor did they spare in their condemnation the unfortunate Matilda, but likened her to Rahab and to Jezebel, and urged their congregations to hate and execrate her name. The celebrated Dr.Münter, who had often come into conflict with the Queen and Struensee in the days of their power, preached in the royal chapel of the Christiansborg Palace before the King, the Queen-Dowager, Prince Frederick and the court, and took for his text St. Matthew, chapter viii., verses 1-13. His sermon was nothing but a violent diatribe against the fallen minister, more especially for his policy in granting toleration in matters of religion. “Godless men ruled over us,” cried the preacher, “and openly defied God. They, to whom nothing was sacred either in heaven or earth, despised and mocked the national faith. Yet, while they were meditating violent measures to secure their power for ever, the vengeance of the Lord fell upon them.” So on for many pages, concluding with: “Our King is once more ours; we are again his people.” The eloquence of the preacher so moved the Queen-Dowager that she shed tears.The fanaticism of the clergy was only equalled by the fury of the press. That the journals of Copenhagen, which were more or less subsidised, should indulge in violent language was only to be expected, but the most eminent writers of the time joined in the cry, including the historian Suhm, a man who was a Dane of Danes, and who had already urged the Queen-Dowager to action. This learned man published an open letter to the King, which was sold in pamphlet form throughout the kingdom. Like many other professors, Suhm was only admirable when he confined himself to thesubjects which he professed, and the moment he quitted the realm of history for contemporary politics he became unfortunate and of no account. His open letter out-Müntered Münter in the violence of its abuse and the fulsomeness of its adulation. “Long enough,” runs the pamphlet, “had religion and virtue been trampled under foot; long enough had honesty and integrity been thrust aside. A disgraceful mob ofcanaillehad seized the person of the King, and rendered access to him impossible for every honourable man. The country swam in tears; the Danish land became a name of shame; the rich were plundered; the sun of the royal house was dimmed, and every department of the Government was given up to unscrupulous robbers, blasphemers and enemies of humanity.” After recounting at great length the danger to which the nation had been brought by the “monster Struensee,” the pamphlet burst forth into an eloquent exhortation to Danes to arise and defend their heritage. It called on all to rally to the standard of the Queen-Dowager and her son, who had delivered the King and the country from imminent peril. “Who would not praise and esteem that dangerous but honourable night?” wrote Suhm. “Future Homers and Virgils will sing its praises, and so long as there are any Danish and Norwegian heroes left in the world the glory of Juliana Maria and Frederick will endure. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but their glory shall not pass away.” This precious pamphlet was greeted with praise from the highest to the lowestin the land. Suhm soon issued a second exhortation addressed: “To my Countrymen—Danes, Norwegians and Holsteiners,” in which he demanded vengeance upon Struensee. Such vengeance, he declared, was imperatively demanded for the honour of Denmark, for “all the nations of Europe would regard a people that suffered itself to be governed by a Struensee as a vile, cowardly people”. Suhm’s example was followed by a number of anonymous scribblers, who flooded town and country with pamphlets calling aloud for the blood of the fallen minister. So unanimous were these pamphlets, and with such regularity did they appear, that it provoked the suspicion that the new Government had some hand in thus inflaming public opinion against its enemies. Not only were Struensee, Brandt and their colleagues denounced by every conceivable epithet, but the name of the Queen, who, though imprisoned, was still the reigning Queen, was dragged into these effusions, and covered with dishonour. Everything was done to foment the public rage against her, and “Justice against Matilda” was shouted by hirelings in the streets.Before matters had reached this pitch, Keith had intervened on behalf of the imprisoned Queen. It was unfortunate that Matilda, at the time of her arrest, had not demanded to see the English minister, and thrown herself on his protection as a princess of Great Britain. But the thought did not cross her mind, for though Keith was anxious and willing to help her, the Queen, in her madness for Struensee,had rejected both the assistance and advice that had been offered by her brother of England, and had treated his representative with reserve. But Keith, we see by his despatches, realised the situation, and cherished no feeling of resentment. He felt for the Queen nothing but chivalrous pity, and determined, if possible, to shield her from the consequences of her rashness and indiscretion. To this end he had attended the masked ball, where he saw the Queen radiant and happy, with no thought of the mine about to explode beneath her feet.In the morning of January 17 Keith heard with astonishment and alarm of the Queen-Dowager’s conspiracy, and that the Queen, abandoned by the King, had been conveyed a prisoner to the castle of Kronborg. Rumours were current that she was in imminent peril, and that it was proposed to execute her before the sun went down. With characteristic determination Keith lost not a moment in acting on behalf of the Queen. He hastened through the crowded streets to the Christiansborg Palace, and demanded instant audience of the King. This was denied him, and so was his request that he might be admitted to the presence of the Queen-Dowager or her son. Nothing daunted, Keith demanded an immediate interview with Osten, who still acted as minister of foreign affairs. Osten, who well knew the nature of Keith’s errand, tried at first to put him off with excuses, but the envoy would not be denied, and at last almost forced his way into Osten’s cabinet, where he found him in council with some of theother conspirators. In answer to the envoy’s inquiry, “Where is the Queen?” Osten replied that his Majesty had found it necessary to remove his royal consort to the fortress of Kronborg, where she would be detained until the King further signified his pleasure, and the grave charges against her of conspiracy against the King’s authority and infidelity to his bed had been disproved. Keith, under these circumstances, could do nothing but lodge a protest, and demand that the Queen, as a princess of Great Britain, should be treated with all the respect and consideration which her birth demanded, and that, as Queen of Denmark, any proceedings against her should follow the regular and constitutional rule of that country. He referred to the rumours that were current of foul play, and said that he held the Danish Government responsible for her safety, and warned them that the King, his master, would undoubtedly declare war against Denmark if a hair of her head were touched. After delivering this ultimatum, Keith left the Christiansborg Palace, returned to his own house, and wrote a long despatch to England, detailing all that had occurred, and what he had said and done. He asked for instructions as to how he was to proceed with regard to the new Government and the imprisoned Queen. This done, he shut himself up in his house until the answer should arrive.[28][28]Memoirs of Sir R. Murray Keith, vol. i. It is impossible to quote this despatch of Keith’s, as it has been destroyed. The last available despatch of Keith’s is previous to the catastrophe, and thenceforward, until after the Queen’s divorce, all the despatches relating to the Queen are abstracted from those preserved in the State Paper Office in London. These despatches were destroyed by order of King George III. There is no trace either of the despatches sent by Keith to England at this period, or of those from England to Keith, beyond an order, later, that Keith was to bring them to England.The popular rejoicings came to an end within a week of the palace revolution, but the court festivities were continued some time longer. The King frequently drove about the city in company with his brother, and, as the ground was covered with snow, he often appeared in a sleigh. The Queen-Dowager also showed herself in public on every possible occasion, in marked contrast to her previous habits of rigid seclusion. She now occupied at Frederiksberg the apartments of the imprisoned Queen, but at the Christiansborg she retained her former suite. Within a week of Matilda’s disgrace a state banquet and ball were held at the Christiansborg, at which the Queen-Dowager took the place of the reigning Queen. The King’s twenty-third birthday, January 29, was celebrated all over the kingdom with great rejoicing, and Copenhagen was decorated and illuminated in honour of the event. In the evening the King, attended by a very large suite, witnessed the performance at the palace theatre of two new French vaudevilles. With a singular lack of good taste, the titles of these pieces were “L’Ambitieux,” and “L’Indiscret,” and, as might be judged, they abounded in allusions to Struensee and scarcely veiled insults of the imprisoned Queen,who only a few days before had been the centre of the court festivities. After the play there was a grand supper in the knights’ hall, to which the foreign envoys, ministers, and the most distinguished of the nobility were invited. The English envoy was absent.The object of all these court festivities was to persuade the public that the King shared in the universal joy. There is reason, however, to believe that after the first few days of excitement were past, the King began to realise that he had bettered his condition very little by the change. He was glad to be rid of Brandt and Struensee, especially of Brandt, but he missed the Queen, who was always kind and lively, and no doubt if he could have seen her he would have forgiven her on the spot. The Queen-Dowager was fully aware of this danger, and determined at all hazards to prevent it. Already she was beginning to feel some of the anxieties of power. Popularity is a very fleeting thing, and there were signs that the popularity of the new Government would be ephemeral; the recent riots of the mob, which were comparatively unchecked, had given them a taste for similar excesses. The court lived in continual dread of further disturbance.A ludicrous instance of this occurred at the theatre some few days after the revolution, when the court was at the French play. Owing to the house being inconveniently crowded, some slight disturbance took place in the cheaper seats. Immediately a rumour flew round the theatre that a riothad broken out in the city, Struensee and Brandt had escaped from prison, and the mob were setting fire to houses and plundering everywhere. The news ran like wildfire through the audience, and in an incredibly short space of time a scene of panic prevailed. Every one began to make for the doors, with the result that the confusion became worse confounded. The King was the first to take fright, and rushed from his box, with wild looks, followed by the Hereditary Prince. The Queen-Dowager tried in vain to detain them, and when they were gone she was so much overcome that she fainted. A curious crowd had collected outside the theatre, and it was not until some time that order was restored, and the whole affair discovered to be a hoax. But the Queen-Dowager was not reassured, and the result of this panic was seen in a series of police regulations for the better preservation of the public peace. The city gates, which had been left open, were again locked at night; masters were ordered to keep their apprentices at home after dark, and public houses were ordered to be closed at ten o’clock.The first step taken by the Queen-Dowager was to re-establish the Council of State, which had been abolished by Struensee. It consisted of Prince Frederick and the following members: Count Thott, Count Rantzau, Councillor Schack-Rathlou, Admiral Rommeling, General Eickstedt and Count Osten. All resolutions were discussed by the Council of State before they received the royal assent, and the net result of the new regulations was to takethe power out of the King’s hands, and vest it in the Council, for the King’s signature was deprived of all force and validity except in council. The members of the Council of State received in their patents the titles of Ministers of State and Excellencies. Count Thott acted as president of the Council in the absence of the King, and received a salary of six thousand dollars—the other members five thousand dollars. Guldberg, who really drew up the plan of the Council with the Queen-Dowager, and afterwards the instructions, was not at first a member, but for all that he was the most influential man in the Government. He and the Queen-Dowager worked in concert, and they ruled the situation. It was said that Juliana Maria at first entertained the idea of deposing the King, and placing her son upon the throne, but Guldberg opposed it, and pointed out that such a step would surely be followed by a protest from the nation and from the foreign powers, with England at their head.The Queen-Dowager therefore continued to play the rôle of one who had only come forward with the greatest reluctance because her action was urgently needed for the salvation of the King and country. This was the line she took in a conversation with Reverdil, who was set at liberty a few days after his arrest by her orders, and summoned to her presence. When Reverdil entered the room, she apologised for his arrest, and said it was a mistake, and contrary to her orders. She continued: “I only wish I could have spared the others, but the Queenhad forgotten everything she owed to her sex, her birth and her rank. Even so, my son and I would have refrained from interference had not her irregularities affected the Government. The whole kingdom was upset, and going fast to ruin. God supported me through it all; I felt neither alarm nor terror.”[29][29]Mémoires de Reverdil.The Queen-Dowager felt well disposed towards Reverdil, who had more than once remonstrated with Struensee on the disrespect shown by him and his minions to her and Prince Frederick. She would probably have reinstated him in his post, but Osten and Rantzau disliked him. They feared he might gain an influence over the King, or enter a plea of mercy for the prisoners, or suggest to the Queen-Dowager the recall of Bernstorff, or induce her to summon Prince Charles of Hesse to court—both of whom disliked them. So Osten saw Reverdil and worked upon his fears. He advised him for his own sake to leave the court, and the honest Swiss needed no second warning, but within a week shook the dust of Copenhagen off his feet, and so disappears from this history.[30][30]After leaving Copenhagen, Reverdil lived for some time at Nyon, and afterwards at Lausanne. He maintained a correspondence with Prince Charles of Hesse, and lived on friendly terms with a number of distinguished personages, including Necker, Garnier, Mesdames Necker and De Stael, and Voltaire, who said of him: “On peut avoir autant d’esprit que Reverdil, mais pas davantage.” Reverdil lived to an advanced age, and died in 1808 at Geneva.The next step of the Queen-Dowager’s Government was the appointment of a commission of inquiryto conduct the investigation of Struensee, Brandt, and the ten other prisoners, and send them for trial. This Commission consisted of eight high officials, to whom a ninth was eventually added. They were all known to be enemies of Struensee and his system of government. The Commission was appointed in January, and made it its first duty to search the houses of the prisoners, and examine all their papers. For the purpose of taking evidence the Commission sat daily at the Christiansborg Palace, but either because the commissioners were uncertain how to proceed, or because of conflicting counsels, five weeks passed before the examination of the principal prisoners began. Every one knew that the trial was a foregone conclusion. Keith wrote to his father before it took place: “Count Struensee is loaded with irons, and, which is worse, with guilt, in a common prison in the citadel. Without knowing either the particulars of the accusations against him, or the proofs, I believe I may venture to say that he will soon finish his wild career by the hands of the executioner. The treatment of Count Brandt in the prison, and the race he has run, bear so near an affinity to those of Struensee that it may be presumed his doom will be similar.”[31][31]Sir R. M. Keith to Mr. Keith, February 9, 1772.—Memoirs and Correspondence of Sir Robert Murray Keith.Struensee and Brandt were kept confined closely to their cells, and treated with hardship and ignominy, which would have broken the spirits of far stronger men than they, who had been renderedsoft by luxury and self-indulgence. The day after their arrival at the citadel iron chains were specially forged for them. These chains weighed eighteen pounds each, and were fastened on the right hand and on the left leg, and thence, with the length of three yards, to the wall. They wore them day and night and never took them off. Struensee felt this indignity bitterly, and made pitiful efforts to conceal his fetters. Curiously enough, the smith who forged them and fastened them upon him was a prisoner who only a year before had been in chains himself, and then had begged Struensee for alms and his liberty. The minister had contemptuously tossed him some pence, but refused to set him free, saying: “You do not wear your chains on account of your virtues.” When the man, therefore, fettered Struensee to the wall, he reminded him of the incident by saying: “Your Excellency, I do not put this chain on you on account of your virtues.”[32][32]Gesprächim Reiche der Todten(a pamphlet).Most of the severities inflicted on the prisoners, and especially those on Struensee, seem rather to have been dictated from a fear that they would attempt to commit suicide, and not in any vindictive spirit. Neither of the prisoners was entrusted with knives and forks, but the jailors cut up their food and carried it to their mouths. Struensee at first tried to starve himself, but after three days the commandant sent him word that he was to eat and drink, otherwise he would be thrashed untilhis appetite returned. His buttons were cut off his clothes, because he had swallowed two of them; his shoe-buckles were removed, and when he tried to dash his head against the wall he was made to wear an iron cap. Brandt escaped both the strait-waistcoat and the iron cap, for he showed no disposition to take his life; on the contrary, he was always cheerful, and bore his fate with a fortitude which shamed the wretched Struensee.FREDERICK, HEREDITARY PRINCE OF DENMARKFREDERICK, HEREDITARY PRINCE OF DENMARK, STEP-BROTHER OF CHRISTIAN VII.

THE TRIUMPH OF THE QUEEN-DOWAGER.

1772.

When day dawned on January 17, the citizens of Copenhagen awoke to the fact that the hated rule of Struensee was gone for ever. The constant driving through the streets during the night had attracted little attention, for the noise was thought to arise from the guests returning from the ball at the palace; but when morning came, and the streets were seen to be full of soldiers, the people realised that something unusual had happened. First there came a rumour of a fresh outrage on the part of Struensee, and of an attempt to assassinate the King. But swift on the heels of this came the truth: the King, with the aid of the Queen-Dowager and his brother, had asserted himself; the favourite and his colleagues were in prison, and Queen Matilda had been conveyed to Kronborg. During the silent hours of the night a revolution had been effected, and the mob, like all mobs, shouted on the winning side. The news ran like wildfire round Copenhagen, and soon every one was in the streets. On all sides were heard shouts of “Long live King Christian VII.!” and many cheers were raised for the Queen-Dowager and Prince Frederick. The people converged towards the Christiansborg Palace, and completely filled the space in front of it, shouting and cheering.

At ten o’clock in the morning the King, who, until now, had been busy signing orders of arrest, and sanctioning appointments of others to fill the place of those arrested, appeared upon the balcony, with his brother by his side, while the Queen-Dowager, more modest, showed herself at the window in an undress. Their appearance was greeted with deafening shouts by the crowd, to which the King and the Prince responded by bows, and Juliana Maria by waving her handkerchief. The enthusiasm grew more and more, until at last the King joined in the cheers of his people. The Queen-Dowager had not miscalculated her forces: without doubt the people were on her side.

The citizens now began to deck their houses with flags and bunting, and everywhere kept high holiday. Even the heavens seemed to rejoice at the downfall of the hated administration, for the sun came out, and shone with a brilliance that had not been known in January in Copenhagen for years. About noon the gates of the Christiansborg Palace were thrown open, and the King, splendidly dressed, with his brother seated by his side, drove forth in a state coach drawn by eight white horses to show himself to his people. For the first time for months the King dispensed with all escort, and, except for the running footmen and postilions,the royal coach was unattended. The King drove through all the principal streets. The crowd was so great that it was with difficulty the coach could make way, and the people pressed and surged around it, and in their enthusiasm wanted to take out the horses and drag the coach themselves. The women especially were wild with delight, and waved their handkerchiefs frantically; some even pulled off their headgear, and waved it in the air, the better to testify their joy at seeing their beloved Sovereign safe and sound, and freed from his hated guardians. The King, however, when the novelty of the situation was over, relapsed into his usual apathy, and did not respond to the greeting of his loving subjects, but kept his window up, and stared through it indifferently at the crowd; but Prince Frederick, who was usually undemonstrative, had let the window down on his side of the coach, and bowed and smiled incessantly.

The King held a court in the afternoon at the palace, and was supported on one side by the Queen-Dowager and on the other by his brother. The court was crowded, and by a very different class of people to those who had appeared during the brief reign of Struensee. Many of the nobility, who had heard the glad news, hurried into Copenhagen to personally offer their congratulations to the three royal personages on the overthrow of the detested German Junto. All the Queen-Dowager’s party, all the principal clergy, and all who had taken part in the conspiracy, directly orindirectly, were present; and many more who knew of it, but held aloof until it was an accomplished fact, were now eager to pay their court. The King remained only a short time, and left the Queen-Dowager and Prince Frederick to receive the rest of the company, and they did with right good will, rejoicing in their new-found dignity and importance. It was their hour of triumph, and the inauguration of the clique which governed Denmark for the next twelve years.

In the evening the three royal personages drove to the opera through cheering crowds, and when they entered their box the whole house rose in enthusiasm. Their return to the palace was a triumphal procession, the people forming their guard as before. At night the city was illuminated; every house displayed lights in its windows, and bonfires were kindled in the streets. Salvoes of artillery were fired from the ramparts, and rockets were sent up. The whole population seemed mad with joy. So great was the illumination that the sky was lit up for miles around. At far-off Kronborg Queen Matilda, peering through her iron bars, saw the light in the sky over towards the capital, and asked what it meant. She was told that it was Copenhagen rejoicing over her downfall.[25]

[25]Mémoires de Reverdil.

The popular rejoicings were marred by gross excesses, though considering the excited state of public opinion it is a wonder that more were not committed. Some of the lowest characters hadturned into the streets, and the sailors and dockyard men, who especially hated Struensee, were drunk with wine and excitement. The mob, not content with bonfires, soon showed signs of rioting. They broke into the house of one of Struensee’s supporters and wrecked it, carried off the furniture, and smashed the windows. In the cellar there was a large stock of spirits. The rioters broke the casks open, drank what they would, and upset the rest, with the result that they waded up to their ankles in liquor. Inflamed by drink they next attacked other houses. The police, unable to check the riot, which had grown to dangerous proportions, applied to Eickstedt for soldiers to aid them. But the Queen-Dowager was unwilling to call out the military, as she thought a conflict might bring about bloodshed and so damp the popular enthusiasm. Therefore, instead of soldiers, Prince Frederick’s chamberlain was sent to the scene of disturbance, with instructions to thank the people for the rejoicings they had manifested on the King’s deliverance from his enemies, and a promise that the King would especially remember the sailors (who were among the most tumultuous of the rioters), if they would now go quietly home. But the mob had by this time got out of hand, and either did not, or would not, listen. They rushed towards the royal stables, with the intention of smashing Struensee’s coach, but were prevented by the palace guard. They then endeavoured to wreck the house of the chief of the police, but being foiled in this attempt also, they began to plunderthemont-de-pieté. At this point the soldiers had to be called out, and they succeeded in dispersing the rioters without bloodshed. Next day the streets were patrolled by the burgher guard, and in the afternoon heralds rode round the city, and at certain points read a message from the King, in which he thanked his loyal people for their enthusiasm, but regretted that their zeal had got the better of their discretion. He forbade any further plundering or excesses under heavy penalties. After this the people gradually quieted down, but it was a week before the patrol could be removed.

Meanwhile the Queen-Dowager was occupied in distributing honours among her adherents. The arch-conspirator, Rantzau, at last received the reward of his intrigues. He was made General-in-Chief of the infantry, and a Knight of the Elephant, and his debts were paid in full from the royal treasury. It may be that the part he had played in the arrest of Matilda, and the callousness and insolence he had shown to the unfortunate Queen, quickened the sense of Juliana Maria’s gratitude; for she rewarded him promptly and handsomely. Eickstedt and Köller were promoted to be full generals, and decorated with the order of the Dannebrog. Köller, who was a Pomeranian by birth, was offered naturalisation, with the name of Banner, an extinct Danish noble family. Köller accepted, saying that he intended henceforth to devote his life to Denmark, and was known from this time as Köller-Banner. He was also given a court appointment as aide-de-camp to the King,with apartments in the royal palace. Beringskjold was appointed Grand Chamberlain, and received a pension of two thousand dollars, and a further present of forty thousand dollars paid down. His elder son was appointed a court page, and the younger was promised a captaincy. All the officers of the palace guard who had done duty on the eventful night were promoted a step. Major Carstenskjold, who had conducted Matilda to Kronborg with his drawn sabre and forty dragoons, was made a lieutenant-colonel. Colonel Sames, who had arrested Brandt, received a present of ten thousand dollars. Jessen was created a councillor of justice, and received a gift of two thousand dollars. Rewards were also given to minor personages.

The only one of the conspirators who received no reward, though he was in reality the chief among them, was Guldberg, who declared that the success of the enterprise was sufficient reward for him, and he required neither money nor titles.[26]Guldberg was sure of his influence with the Queen-Dowager; he knew, too, that his apparent disinterestedness would carry weight with the people, and so strengthen his position. He had reserved for himself the power behind the throne, and he filled in the new government something of the place that Struensee had filled in the old. That is to say, he had great influence over the Queen-Dowager; he was the indispensable man, he directed the policy, and no appointmentswere made of which he did not approve. But unlike Struensee he conducted himself with infinite tact and discretion.

[26]He later took the name of Hoegh-Guldberg, and became a minister of state.

As the Struensee administration had been destroyed root and branch, it was necessary to make several new appointments to carry on the government of the country. The first care of the Queen-Dowager was to appoint some one to act as the King’s keeper—some one who would guard him well—for Christian VII.’s formal consent was absolutely necessary for every step she took. The King was now in so weak-minded a condition, and so easily influenced, that any one who had possession of him could make him sign any order he would. All the same Juliana Maria had some difficulty in getting the King to consent to a new guardian, or “personal attendant,” as he was called, to take Brandt’s place. A long list of names was submitted to him, but he refused them one by one until at last, when the Queen-Dowager mentioned Osten’s name, the King said: “Yes, I will have him.” But Osten did not care to exchange his influential post as minister of foreign affairs for that of the King’s companion, and declined the honour. So Köller-Banner, who was a great favourite of the Queen-Dowager, was appointed to the office. The Queen-Dowager was anxious to win the support of the old Danish nobility to the new Government. Therefore, Count Otto Thott and Councillor Schack-Rathlou, who had been dismissed by Struensee, were invited to take part again in the business of state. Bernstorff’s recall was urgedby a powerful section, but Osten and Rantzau both opposed it violently, for they feared the return of this upright and conscientious man.[27]Guldberg, too, was afraid that a statesman of Bernstorff’s eminence would prove a rival to his ambition. The Queen-Dowager also did not wish to recall Bernstorff, because of his well-known devotion to the royal house of England. She feared that he would interfere on behalf of Matilda, of whom she was very jealous. She determined to make her feel the full weight of her vengeance.

[27]In spite of this opposition in time Bernstorff might have come back, but his health was failing, and he died in the autumn of 1772, at the age of sixty years, at Grabow.

COUNT BERNSTORFF.COUNT BERNSTORFF.

COUNT BERNSTORFF.

The bitter feeling against Struensee seemed to increase as the days went by, and on every side were heard cries for vengeance. On January 19, the first Sunday after the revolution,Te Deumswere sung in all the churches of Copenhagen; and throughout the kingdom, wherever the news had penetrated, there was a thanksgiving to Almighty God for the overthrow of the godless Government. The clergy, who had been especially hostile to Struensee, and done much to bring about his fall, did not hesitate to improve the occasion from their pulpits, and spoke of “the fearful vengeance of the Lord” which had fallen upon wickedness in high places. Nor did they spare in their condemnation the unfortunate Matilda, but likened her to Rahab and to Jezebel, and urged their congregations to hate and execrate her name. The celebrated Dr.Münter, who had often come into conflict with the Queen and Struensee in the days of their power, preached in the royal chapel of the Christiansborg Palace before the King, the Queen-Dowager, Prince Frederick and the court, and took for his text St. Matthew, chapter viii., verses 1-13. His sermon was nothing but a violent diatribe against the fallen minister, more especially for his policy in granting toleration in matters of religion. “Godless men ruled over us,” cried the preacher, “and openly defied God. They, to whom nothing was sacred either in heaven or earth, despised and mocked the national faith. Yet, while they were meditating violent measures to secure their power for ever, the vengeance of the Lord fell upon them.” So on for many pages, concluding with: “Our King is once more ours; we are again his people.” The eloquence of the preacher so moved the Queen-Dowager that she shed tears.

The fanaticism of the clergy was only equalled by the fury of the press. That the journals of Copenhagen, which were more or less subsidised, should indulge in violent language was only to be expected, but the most eminent writers of the time joined in the cry, including the historian Suhm, a man who was a Dane of Danes, and who had already urged the Queen-Dowager to action. This learned man published an open letter to the King, which was sold in pamphlet form throughout the kingdom. Like many other professors, Suhm was only admirable when he confined himself to thesubjects which he professed, and the moment he quitted the realm of history for contemporary politics he became unfortunate and of no account. His open letter out-Müntered Münter in the violence of its abuse and the fulsomeness of its adulation. “Long enough,” runs the pamphlet, “had religion and virtue been trampled under foot; long enough had honesty and integrity been thrust aside. A disgraceful mob ofcanaillehad seized the person of the King, and rendered access to him impossible for every honourable man. The country swam in tears; the Danish land became a name of shame; the rich were plundered; the sun of the royal house was dimmed, and every department of the Government was given up to unscrupulous robbers, blasphemers and enemies of humanity.” After recounting at great length the danger to which the nation had been brought by the “monster Struensee,” the pamphlet burst forth into an eloquent exhortation to Danes to arise and defend their heritage. It called on all to rally to the standard of the Queen-Dowager and her son, who had delivered the King and the country from imminent peril. “Who would not praise and esteem that dangerous but honourable night?” wrote Suhm. “Future Homers and Virgils will sing its praises, and so long as there are any Danish and Norwegian heroes left in the world the glory of Juliana Maria and Frederick will endure. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but their glory shall not pass away.” This precious pamphlet was greeted with praise from the highest to the lowestin the land. Suhm soon issued a second exhortation addressed: “To my Countrymen—Danes, Norwegians and Holsteiners,” in which he demanded vengeance upon Struensee. Such vengeance, he declared, was imperatively demanded for the honour of Denmark, for “all the nations of Europe would regard a people that suffered itself to be governed by a Struensee as a vile, cowardly people”. Suhm’s example was followed by a number of anonymous scribblers, who flooded town and country with pamphlets calling aloud for the blood of the fallen minister. So unanimous were these pamphlets, and with such regularity did they appear, that it provoked the suspicion that the new Government had some hand in thus inflaming public opinion against its enemies. Not only were Struensee, Brandt and their colleagues denounced by every conceivable epithet, but the name of the Queen, who, though imprisoned, was still the reigning Queen, was dragged into these effusions, and covered with dishonour. Everything was done to foment the public rage against her, and “Justice against Matilda” was shouted by hirelings in the streets.

Before matters had reached this pitch, Keith had intervened on behalf of the imprisoned Queen. It was unfortunate that Matilda, at the time of her arrest, had not demanded to see the English minister, and thrown herself on his protection as a princess of Great Britain. But the thought did not cross her mind, for though Keith was anxious and willing to help her, the Queen, in her madness for Struensee,had rejected both the assistance and advice that had been offered by her brother of England, and had treated his representative with reserve. But Keith, we see by his despatches, realised the situation, and cherished no feeling of resentment. He felt for the Queen nothing but chivalrous pity, and determined, if possible, to shield her from the consequences of her rashness and indiscretion. To this end he had attended the masked ball, where he saw the Queen radiant and happy, with no thought of the mine about to explode beneath her feet.

In the morning of January 17 Keith heard with astonishment and alarm of the Queen-Dowager’s conspiracy, and that the Queen, abandoned by the King, had been conveyed a prisoner to the castle of Kronborg. Rumours were current that she was in imminent peril, and that it was proposed to execute her before the sun went down. With characteristic determination Keith lost not a moment in acting on behalf of the Queen. He hastened through the crowded streets to the Christiansborg Palace, and demanded instant audience of the King. This was denied him, and so was his request that he might be admitted to the presence of the Queen-Dowager or her son. Nothing daunted, Keith demanded an immediate interview with Osten, who still acted as minister of foreign affairs. Osten, who well knew the nature of Keith’s errand, tried at first to put him off with excuses, but the envoy would not be denied, and at last almost forced his way into Osten’s cabinet, where he found him in council with some of theother conspirators. In answer to the envoy’s inquiry, “Where is the Queen?” Osten replied that his Majesty had found it necessary to remove his royal consort to the fortress of Kronborg, where she would be detained until the King further signified his pleasure, and the grave charges against her of conspiracy against the King’s authority and infidelity to his bed had been disproved. Keith, under these circumstances, could do nothing but lodge a protest, and demand that the Queen, as a princess of Great Britain, should be treated with all the respect and consideration which her birth demanded, and that, as Queen of Denmark, any proceedings against her should follow the regular and constitutional rule of that country. He referred to the rumours that were current of foul play, and said that he held the Danish Government responsible for her safety, and warned them that the King, his master, would undoubtedly declare war against Denmark if a hair of her head were touched. After delivering this ultimatum, Keith left the Christiansborg Palace, returned to his own house, and wrote a long despatch to England, detailing all that had occurred, and what he had said and done. He asked for instructions as to how he was to proceed with regard to the new Government and the imprisoned Queen. This done, he shut himself up in his house until the answer should arrive.[28]

[28]Memoirs of Sir R. Murray Keith, vol. i. It is impossible to quote this despatch of Keith’s, as it has been destroyed. The last available despatch of Keith’s is previous to the catastrophe, and thenceforward, until after the Queen’s divorce, all the despatches relating to the Queen are abstracted from those preserved in the State Paper Office in London. These despatches were destroyed by order of King George III. There is no trace either of the despatches sent by Keith to England at this period, or of those from England to Keith, beyond an order, later, that Keith was to bring them to England.

The popular rejoicings came to an end within a week of the palace revolution, but the court festivities were continued some time longer. The King frequently drove about the city in company with his brother, and, as the ground was covered with snow, he often appeared in a sleigh. The Queen-Dowager also showed herself in public on every possible occasion, in marked contrast to her previous habits of rigid seclusion. She now occupied at Frederiksberg the apartments of the imprisoned Queen, but at the Christiansborg she retained her former suite. Within a week of Matilda’s disgrace a state banquet and ball were held at the Christiansborg, at which the Queen-Dowager took the place of the reigning Queen. The King’s twenty-third birthday, January 29, was celebrated all over the kingdom with great rejoicing, and Copenhagen was decorated and illuminated in honour of the event. In the evening the King, attended by a very large suite, witnessed the performance at the palace theatre of two new French vaudevilles. With a singular lack of good taste, the titles of these pieces were “L’Ambitieux,” and “L’Indiscret,” and, as might be judged, they abounded in allusions to Struensee and scarcely veiled insults of the imprisoned Queen,who only a few days before had been the centre of the court festivities. After the play there was a grand supper in the knights’ hall, to which the foreign envoys, ministers, and the most distinguished of the nobility were invited. The English envoy was absent.

The object of all these court festivities was to persuade the public that the King shared in the universal joy. There is reason, however, to believe that after the first few days of excitement were past, the King began to realise that he had bettered his condition very little by the change. He was glad to be rid of Brandt and Struensee, especially of Brandt, but he missed the Queen, who was always kind and lively, and no doubt if he could have seen her he would have forgiven her on the spot. The Queen-Dowager was fully aware of this danger, and determined at all hazards to prevent it. Already she was beginning to feel some of the anxieties of power. Popularity is a very fleeting thing, and there were signs that the popularity of the new Government would be ephemeral; the recent riots of the mob, which were comparatively unchecked, had given them a taste for similar excesses. The court lived in continual dread of further disturbance.

A ludicrous instance of this occurred at the theatre some few days after the revolution, when the court was at the French play. Owing to the house being inconveniently crowded, some slight disturbance took place in the cheaper seats. Immediately a rumour flew round the theatre that a riothad broken out in the city, Struensee and Brandt had escaped from prison, and the mob were setting fire to houses and plundering everywhere. The news ran like wildfire through the audience, and in an incredibly short space of time a scene of panic prevailed. Every one began to make for the doors, with the result that the confusion became worse confounded. The King was the first to take fright, and rushed from his box, with wild looks, followed by the Hereditary Prince. The Queen-Dowager tried in vain to detain them, and when they were gone she was so much overcome that she fainted. A curious crowd had collected outside the theatre, and it was not until some time that order was restored, and the whole affair discovered to be a hoax. But the Queen-Dowager was not reassured, and the result of this panic was seen in a series of police regulations for the better preservation of the public peace. The city gates, which had been left open, were again locked at night; masters were ordered to keep their apprentices at home after dark, and public houses were ordered to be closed at ten o’clock.

The first step taken by the Queen-Dowager was to re-establish the Council of State, which had been abolished by Struensee. It consisted of Prince Frederick and the following members: Count Thott, Count Rantzau, Councillor Schack-Rathlou, Admiral Rommeling, General Eickstedt and Count Osten. All resolutions were discussed by the Council of State before they received the royal assent, and the net result of the new regulations was to takethe power out of the King’s hands, and vest it in the Council, for the King’s signature was deprived of all force and validity except in council. The members of the Council of State received in their patents the titles of Ministers of State and Excellencies. Count Thott acted as president of the Council in the absence of the King, and received a salary of six thousand dollars—the other members five thousand dollars. Guldberg, who really drew up the plan of the Council with the Queen-Dowager, and afterwards the instructions, was not at first a member, but for all that he was the most influential man in the Government. He and the Queen-Dowager worked in concert, and they ruled the situation. It was said that Juliana Maria at first entertained the idea of deposing the King, and placing her son upon the throne, but Guldberg opposed it, and pointed out that such a step would surely be followed by a protest from the nation and from the foreign powers, with England at their head.

The Queen-Dowager therefore continued to play the rôle of one who had only come forward with the greatest reluctance because her action was urgently needed for the salvation of the King and country. This was the line she took in a conversation with Reverdil, who was set at liberty a few days after his arrest by her orders, and summoned to her presence. When Reverdil entered the room, she apologised for his arrest, and said it was a mistake, and contrary to her orders. She continued: “I only wish I could have spared the others, but the Queenhad forgotten everything she owed to her sex, her birth and her rank. Even so, my son and I would have refrained from interference had not her irregularities affected the Government. The whole kingdom was upset, and going fast to ruin. God supported me through it all; I felt neither alarm nor terror.”[29]

[29]Mémoires de Reverdil.

The Queen-Dowager felt well disposed towards Reverdil, who had more than once remonstrated with Struensee on the disrespect shown by him and his minions to her and Prince Frederick. She would probably have reinstated him in his post, but Osten and Rantzau disliked him. They feared he might gain an influence over the King, or enter a plea of mercy for the prisoners, or suggest to the Queen-Dowager the recall of Bernstorff, or induce her to summon Prince Charles of Hesse to court—both of whom disliked them. So Osten saw Reverdil and worked upon his fears. He advised him for his own sake to leave the court, and the honest Swiss needed no second warning, but within a week shook the dust of Copenhagen off his feet, and so disappears from this history.[30]

[30]After leaving Copenhagen, Reverdil lived for some time at Nyon, and afterwards at Lausanne. He maintained a correspondence with Prince Charles of Hesse, and lived on friendly terms with a number of distinguished personages, including Necker, Garnier, Mesdames Necker and De Stael, and Voltaire, who said of him: “On peut avoir autant d’esprit que Reverdil, mais pas davantage.” Reverdil lived to an advanced age, and died in 1808 at Geneva.

The next step of the Queen-Dowager’s Government was the appointment of a commission of inquiryto conduct the investigation of Struensee, Brandt, and the ten other prisoners, and send them for trial. This Commission consisted of eight high officials, to whom a ninth was eventually added. They were all known to be enemies of Struensee and his system of government. The Commission was appointed in January, and made it its first duty to search the houses of the prisoners, and examine all their papers. For the purpose of taking evidence the Commission sat daily at the Christiansborg Palace, but either because the commissioners were uncertain how to proceed, or because of conflicting counsels, five weeks passed before the examination of the principal prisoners began. Every one knew that the trial was a foregone conclusion. Keith wrote to his father before it took place: “Count Struensee is loaded with irons, and, which is worse, with guilt, in a common prison in the citadel. Without knowing either the particulars of the accusations against him, or the proofs, I believe I may venture to say that he will soon finish his wild career by the hands of the executioner. The treatment of Count Brandt in the prison, and the race he has run, bear so near an affinity to those of Struensee that it may be presumed his doom will be similar.”[31]

[31]Sir R. M. Keith to Mr. Keith, February 9, 1772.—Memoirs and Correspondence of Sir Robert Murray Keith.

Struensee and Brandt were kept confined closely to their cells, and treated with hardship and ignominy, which would have broken the spirits of far stronger men than they, who had been renderedsoft by luxury and self-indulgence. The day after their arrival at the citadel iron chains were specially forged for them. These chains weighed eighteen pounds each, and were fastened on the right hand and on the left leg, and thence, with the length of three yards, to the wall. They wore them day and night and never took them off. Struensee felt this indignity bitterly, and made pitiful efforts to conceal his fetters. Curiously enough, the smith who forged them and fastened them upon him was a prisoner who only a year before had been in chains himself, and then had begged Struensee for alms and his liberty. The minister had contemptuously tossed him some pence, but refused to set him free, saying: “You do not wear your chains on account of your virtues.” When the man, therefore, fettered Struensee to the wall, he reminded him of the incident by saying: “Your Excellency, I do not put this chain on you on account of your virtues.”[32]

[32]Gesprächim Reiche der Todten(a pamphlet).

Most of the severities inflicted on the prisoners, and especially those on Struensee, seem rather to have been dictated from a fear that they would attempt to commit suicide, and not in any vindictive spirit. Neither of the prisoners was entrusted with knives and forks, but the jailors cut up their food and carried it to their mouths. Struensee at first tried to starve himself, but after three days the commandant sent him word that he was to eat and drink, otherwise he would be thrashed untilhis appetite returned. His buttons were cut off his clothes, because he had swallowed two of them; his shoe-buckles were removed, and when he tried to dash his head against the wall he was made to wear an iron cap. Brandt escaped both the strait-waistcoat and the iron cap, for he showed no disposition to take his life; on the contrary, he was always cheerful, and bore his fate with a fortitude which shamed the wretched Struensee.

FREDERICK, HEREDITARY PRINCE OF DENMARKFREDERICK, HEREDITARY PRINCE OF DENMARK, STEP-BROTHER OF CHRISTIAN VII.

FREDERICK, HEREDITARY PRINCE OF DENMARK, STEP-BROTHER OF CHRISTIAN VII.

Back to Index Next