The Project Gutenberg eBook of Life and Times of Her Majesty Caroline Matilda, Vol III., by Sir C. F. Lascelles Wraxall.

On the same day that the Fiscal General Wiwet handed in his indictment of Struensee, he delivered to the commission his charges against Count Brandt, which were to the following effect:—

As concerns the second principal prisoner, Count Enevold Brandt, we cannot say of him that he undertook[2] something which he did not understand, but he has committed actions in which he ought not to have allowed himself to be used.

I have already most submissively stated how he, after being dismissed from court, again returned to it; that it took place through the intercession of Count Struensee, who required a person in whom he could trust, who was bound to him, and who would neither betray Struensee's enterprises, nor allow other persons to betray them. It was his function, therefore, to pay attention to everything that his royal Majesty undertook, in word and in deed, and to prevent any one having access to the king who did not belong to the party.

The attendance of the valets was for this purpose shortened. On the other hand, the king was to receive every morning the visit of a doctor, who gave him powders, although there was nothing the matter with his Majesty, and, as valet Torp stated, lit. F., p. 52, his Majesty was just as healthy as he had been before, and demanded no attendance from a doctor.

This doctor, Professor Berger, who, as the chosen instrument of Counts Struensee and Brandt, there can be no doubt indulged in thoughts about great posts of honour to be acquired in Denmark, allowed himself to be employed in incommoding his Majesty every morning. The two other physicians in ordinary, Etats-rath von Berger and Piper, could not be induced to do such useless things; and hence we see that Professor Berger did not go solely on account of[3] his Majesty's health, but in order that the morning hour might be spent with him, the confidant of the counts.

It is not easy to understand how Count Brandt, of whom it must be confessed that he possessed common sense, and might have been useful to the king and country as a native, allowed himself to be persuaded to become a promoter of the Struensian undertakings. Nor is it possible to discover what could induce him, as a person of rank and family, to deny that hauteur which is generally observed toward people of low origin, unless it was caused by an unbounded desire for honours and wealth, and that he consequently behaved like those who consort with, and are the accomplices of, thieves.

If Count Brandt, as he says and writes, wished to leave the court and go on his travels, if only an income of 1,000 dollars were allowed him, because he saw that his remaining would do him no good, why did he remain? Why did he not say to his Majesty that he did not wish to stay at court any longer? What Count Brandt alleges, therefore, is only a subterfuge; and what he states in his memorials to Count Struensee is not earnestness, but merely threats against Count Struensee, who must effect that which Count Brandt desired to attain, as is visible from the fact that Count Struensee appears to have employed soothing language. For if Count Brandt regarded his position at court as a Hell (his own expression), he was[4] at liberty to get rid of it by sending in his resignation. But it was not meant seriously. Hence he is not to be excused for accepting a post of which himself says:—"Mais je le force de vivre avec moi et pour comble de disgrâce je suis encore obligé à le (the king) traiter durement, à ce qu'il l'appelle pour qu'il ne devient insolent vis-à-vis de la Reine, et si cela arrive par hazard j'en porte la faute: cela tout seul est un Enfer." In this position with his royal Majesty he has proved himself guilty of the following capital crimes:—

After free consideration and consultation he went in to the king his master, and then challenged, abused, attacked, beat, and bit his Majesty. This is certainly unheard of, and, I must say of this deed, "animus meminisse horret luctuque refugit." But it happened so, and Count Brandt's own confession and the statements of the witnesses confirm it.

Count Brandt confessed before the commission that he—after his royal Majesty one day at breakfast had said something which he, Count Brandt, considered insulting, and his Majesty had thrown a lemon at him—consulted with Count Struensee on the matter, who advised him to go to the king and demand satisfaction. In consequence of this, after laying a riding-whip previously in a pianoforte standing in the king's ante-chamber, in order to threaten the king with it, he went into the king's cabinet, challenged, assaulted, and maltreated him. (V. his confession, lit. F., pp. 309 and 322.)

This confession is confirmed by his Majesty's own declaration to valet Schleel, who, on the morning after the assault, came to his Majesty, and saw that the king's neck was scratched; by the statements of valet Brieghil, page of the bed-chamber Schack, valet Torp, and also by the evidence of the negro boy Moranti. From all this it is indisputably fully proved that Count Brandt laid hands on his Majesty in order to insult him—an awful deed, as King David says in the second book of Samuel, chap, i., vv. 14, 15, 16: "How wast thou not afraid to stretch forth thine hand to destroy the Lord's anointed? * * * * Thy blood be on thine own head."

It is true that Count Brandt has tried to excuse this audacious deed, partly by the assurance that such things were frequently done to his Majesty by Count Holck and Warnstedt, partly by asserting that his royal Majesty has forgiven him this crime. But even if, as regards the first apology, we were to assume for a moment that such audacious deeds were really done by Count Holck and Von Warnstedt, this cannot exculpate Count Brandt, who was not justified in acting thus because another before him had committed these crimes and escaped punishment. And as regards the second excuse, his royal Majesty never forgave him his crime, for the witnesses I have mentioned declare, that after this occurrence his Majesty could not endure Count Brandt, and was afraid of being attacked by him; that his Majesty locked his door on the following night, which was not usually[6] the case, and thus revealed that his Majesty had not forgiven Count Brandt the offence, and also that his Majesty ordered page Schack [1] to denounce Count Brandt's treatment of him to this commission, which would not have happened had the offence been pardoned. Although such conduct toward a king can never meet with an apology, still, if the assault had been made at the moment when Count Brandt considered himself insulted, and if it might appear that he had undertaken it in an outburst of excitement, a good deal might still be said against it. But in this case, where he goes in to his king after reflection, and in cold blood, orders out the persons present, so that there may be no witnesses of the improper deed, locks the door, in order that no one may afford assistance, seizes the king round the neck, threatens him with death; and when he at length lets him loose, after the king has spoken soothingly, threatens him that another time he shall not get off so cheaply; and, in addition, abuses the king, as himself is obliged to confess—nothing can be brought forward as the slightest excuse for him; he is a child of death, and one of the greatest criminals that ever trod the earth. He has acted against his oath, which commands him to risk his life and blood for his king and the defence[7] of his life; but exactly contrary to this oath he attacks his king, and in such a way that the latter suffers a loss of blood.

It is of no avail in his excuse that he alleges his royal Majesty assaulted him first, unless this occurred at a time when his Majesty was angry with him, and he merely defended himself, which is human; but still could not be permitted to any subject against his king. But that he goes in to the king at a time when he had no duties to perform, and only in order to say harsh things to the king; that he goes in to terrify the king; that he abuses him; that he defies the king,—all this leaves him no other mode of escape but his statement, that the king assaulted him first. But, in my opinion, every man who suffers such treatment in his own house has the right to regale a man with a cudgel who comes into his room for the purpose of prostituting him, and how much more so a king. If his Majesty had killed him, Count Brandt, on the spot, it would have been his well-merited reward, and could have been answered before God and man.

As concerns Count Brandt's general behaviour toward his royal Majesty; for instance, his going in to the king in his peignoir, remaining with his Majesty with his hat on, or entering the king's room while playing the flute, this is really such conduct as no master would put up with from his servant, much less a king from his subject.

Count Brandt, it is true, apologises for all this by[8] saying that his Majesty would have it so, and that the same thing was done in the time of earlier servants in an even more indifferent way. But the former is only a proof of his Majesty's gentleness and kindness, which do not like to express what a man ought to say to himself, and the latter gives him no right; for must I be a churl because my predecessor was one? In this matter I could mention several instances of bad conduct on the part of Count Brandt in treating his royal Majesty contemptuously. But as the great crime swallows up all the rest, it is unnecessary to mention them here, and so make the trial longer. Crimine ab uno discimus omnia.

Count Brandt has broken the fidelity which he owed to the king his master by virtue of the oath he took to his Majesty, by being an accomplice in the improper intercourse and intimacy which Count Struensee had acquired with the person to whom he certainly owed reverence and affection, but no tenderness. Count Brandt confesses this, and that Count Struensee confided it to him is proved by his, Brandt's, own confession, lit. a, pp. 40 and 41. It is true that Count Struensee, in his declaration, lit. a, p. 50, will not quite admit Count Brandt's statement; but no doubt[9] can be possible when we remember that Count Brandt was placed about his Majesty to prevent other persons having access to the king, in order that Count Struensee might have the better opportunity to play his part. What could induce Count Struensee to share the booty with him, and to allow him to rise in honour equally with himself, unless it were done to render him, Brandt, faithful, silent, and attentive?

That Count Brandt was cognizant of this illicit familiarity is furthermore shown by Count Struensee's reply to Count Brandt's letter, in which we read: "Je n'ai partagé avec personne la confiance que je vous ai donné: vous êtes le seul qui possède mes secrets, et à qui je m'explique sur tous les objets sans reserve." Count Brandt, generally as a subject, and specially as a royal official, Danish count and chamberlain, was commanded by the law to promote the king's welfare and prevent his detriment by his utmost efforts. Hence two duties were offered him: either to reveal the affair to the king, or to observe to the guilty party that such things must not be allowed; to oppose such a disgusting life, and threaten to reveal it to the king. I fancy I can hear a sincere friend of the king and of the honour of the royal family speaking thus to Count Struensee: "Audacious traitor and most impudent of the human race! you who ought to recognise and honour the supremacy and majesty, turn back from your impudence, and know that I, even through my birth, am bound to avert everything that entails the[10] dishonour of the house of the king and his family." I believe that such language would have had more effect than all the memoirs. But, unhappily, money flowed, which Count Brandt needed; and hence he did not dare say, "May you be damned with your money!" I certainly see that I may be answered: "Why did not others do so? Why did the Fiscal General himself neglect it?" But to this it may be answered: "No one knew so much about it as Count Brandt. No one was so near the king as he; he kept every one away from the king, for the purpose that his royal Majesty might learn nothing about it from one or the other." But it was his duty, as he was always about the king, and was accurately acquainted with everything. If he were, on the contrary, to object that such matters did not concern him, although he is forced to confess having warned Count Struensee of what happened to them both on January 17, still he could have learned from Councillor of Chancery Blechinberg and his wife, and Mesdames Schiötte and Buch, what his duty was, and what he ought to have done. But as he not only omitted to do this, but did everything that lay in his power to prevent the affair reaching the king, and as Count Struensee has been found guilty in this matter of an assault on the king's supremacy, Count Brandt must be regarded as an accomplice, and punished in accordance with the paragraph of the law 6—4—14.

In the same way as Count Brandt displayed faithlessness toward his king in the previous point, he furthermore showed it in the following affair, by joining Count Struensee in robbing the royal treasury of various sums of money.

It is an easy matter for a person who is daily with his king, and in such a manner that no one else can reach him, to grow rich. But such an enterprise cannot be so easily excused, even if there be the king's assent to it, for the king's favour must be as little abused in money matters as in other things. To pocket a sum of 60,000 dollars for so short a period of service, because he annoyed the king, and waited on him, not to his comfort, but to his vexation and that of others, seems to denote audacity and impudence as well as slight reflection. To appropriate so large a sum in so short a time, while the land was sunk in debt, and seventy thousand human beings must contribute to it from their poverty, and save it out of their food, was not a wise action on the part of a man who wished to be regarded as a patriot. But his royal Majesty did not give Count Brandt any such sum; but Count Struensee procured it for him by converting 6,000 dollars into 60,000.

I produce here the questions laid before Count Brandt in respect to this matter, and his answers. From these we learn that Count Brandt declares he[12] first received 10,000 dollars and afterwards 60,000, although he alleges it was only 50,000, and lastly, at the new year, in addition to 300 dollars, 3,000 more.

Count Brandt is obliged himself to confess that there appears to him something strange and very suspicious in the document in which credit is taken for the 60,000 dollars, and which I have discussed more amply in the indictment of Count Struensee. Count Brandt does not deny having received the money, and that he gave no receipt for it, but thanked the king for it, though without mentioning the amount. If we now take into consideration what I said about this in my accusation against Count Struensee, not the slightest doubt can exist that Count Brandt was an accomplice in this audacious deed, and therefore was guilty of the crime of forgery.

These are the principal crimes of Count Brandt as regards his own person. In addition, he took part in all the crimes which Count Struensee committed; he had confidants and instruments to set in work everything that Count Struensee wished, instead of acting in accordance with his oath and his duty, and avoiding those things which he knew would have evil results. I may be permitted to regard it as superfluous to enter more fully into these matters, as they are well known to the exalted commission, and I have sufficient proofs for my proposed sentence, which I most submissively offer for decision in the following terms:—

"That Count Chamberlain Enevold Brandt, who has[13] not only forgotten the most submissive veneration which he owed to the king his master, but also had the audacity to go into the king's cabinet, and then not only address his supreme royal Majesty in bad language, but also to commit the most audacious and unheard-of deed of laying hands on his lord the king, the anointed of God, as an insult to his royal Majesty, as well as behaved in many points unfaithfully to his Majesty, and consented to many things against his better knowledge, although his royal Majesty had shown him great favour,—be condemned by virtue of the paragraphs of the law 6—4—1—14, to forfeit his dignity as count and his office of chamberlain as well as his honour, life and estate; that after his coat of arms has been broken by the executioner, his right hand shall be cut off while alive, the body quartered and exposed on the wheel, his head and hands affixed to a pole, his fortune confiscated to the king, and his heirs, should he possess any, lose their rank and name."

As regards Brandt's confession of a knowledge of the familiarity between the queen and Struensee, it is probable that Brandt was persuaded that his life depended on what he might say about the liaison. What other motive could he have had for making such a confession? If Brandt had merely declared, like Berger and others, that he had suspicions on the subject, it would have been of no use. Something positive being[14] required, he declared that he was informed of it. How could he be so? Was it by Struensee, who concealed nothing from him?

But Struensee, instead of acknowledging this confidence, absolutely denied it, and no confrontation was ventured. Again, if Brandt's declaration was correct, why did Struensee repulse it so loudly? It appears indisputable that he did so because it was false.

And the position in which Brandt placed himself by yielding to the solicitations of the commissioners was very probably the cause of his ruin. The mysteries of this trial must be buried with him. Without this motive, what interest could there have been in destroying a man like Brandt? Was there a shadow of justice in condemning him to death for things which were quite common with the king?

Two days after this wretched indictment, which was merely handed in to the commission as a matter of form, the defence was delivered by Advocate Bang to the same judges, and was to the following effect:—

By the most gracious commands of his royal Majesty, of March 23, which are attached to this under lit. A, I shall lay before this high commission Count Brandt's defence—not the defence of the actions of which he is accused, but his defence in so far as the accusations are incorrect.

It must reasonably insult Count Brandt to find that he whom his Majesty, through his own special favour, and as a reward for his faithful services to his king and master, raised to the rank of Count, selected for his daily intimate society, and honoured with many superfluous proofs of favour and confidence,—that he, I say, should see himself condemned to lose his dignity of count, his honour, life, and fortune, and have his body ill-treated by the executioner. But, according to his own declaration, made to me, his defender, neither his death, his disgrace, nor his torture, will be so painful to him as the sole idea that he has failed in the most submissive reverence, willingness, devotion, and fidelity, which his duty to his king and benefactor commanded, and by which he would have descended below humanity, and, so to speak, have borrowed a model of his actions from the evil spirits. If his conscience reproached him on these points, the bodily punishments would be no torture as compared with this grief; but he has, with a calm conscience, and unassailed by its gnawings, listened to the charges brought against him, and requested me to bring forward the following in his defence:—

The Fiscal General accuses Count Brandt (a) that by Count Struensee's regulation, and in liaison with him, he was employed at court after his foreign tour,[16] so that Count Struensee might have in him a man in whom he could trust, who would neither betray his designs, nor allow any one else to reveal them; (b) that Count Brandt kept people from the king who did not belong to the party; (c) that he shortened the attendance of the valets on the king's person, and, instead of it, arranged that Professor Berger, contrary to the king's wish, should wait on his Majesty in the mornings for the purpose of giving him powders, which were innocent, however; and (d) that he compelled the king to live with him, and treated him harshly.

Count Brandt has never regarded it as a crime to have allowed himself to be recommended to his Majesty by the man to whom the king granted his favour and confidence. What he attained through Struensee's recommendation was only a continuation of what Privy Councillors Saldern and Bernstorff had begun. The aforesaid post was neither given him to keep things secret, nor to conceal from the king things which, according to the Fiscal General's opinion, his Majesty must not be allowed to know. As it is not specially mentioned what the things were which must be concealed from the king, while the counsel only appears to refer to that which is alleged under the third chief point, I will reserve my special reply to it, and here content myself with offering a general denial to the general statement. I do not know what sort of party it was of which the Fiscal[17] General speaks when he says that Count Brandt prevented persons having access to the king who were not useful to the party. He probably supposes a party which was opposed to the king or the welfare of the country; but as he does not state of what persons the assumed party was composed, the nature of their actions, what designs they entertained, or by what means they were to be realised, I am here dispensed from the obligation of answering this specially, and can content myself with the remark that there was no such party hostile to the king and country so far as came to Count Brandt's knowledge. He certainly had the permission to be near the king's person, but had neither the power nor the wish to keep any one away from his Majesty; and the Fiscal General has not been able to mention a single person of sufficient dignity to have access to the king, and who was refused it by Count Brandt. I must remark here that the king was lord and master, and had merely to command by a sign who was to come and who to go, and how long each was to remain, in which Count Brandt never opposed the king's will.

Had the king wished that the valets should remain longer with his Majesty, Count Brandt would not have prevented him; and this charge can the less be brought against him, as it can be seen from valet Schleel's evidence, how it had been ordered long before that not the valet, but Von Warnstedt, who formerly occupied Count Brandt's post, should dress[18] and undress the king; and after Count Brandt, the black boys were ordered to perform this duty. Equally little can Professor Berger's morning visits be brought as a charge against Count Brandt, even if they had had evil consequences; while, on the contrary, the powders which the king took did not impair his health. Berger paid these visits so long as the king was willing to accept them; but when his Majesty no longer desired them, Berger kept away.

The words in Count Brandt's letter to Count Struensee, which the Fiscal General treats as a crime, have been so fully explained by Count Brandt's reply to questions 92 and 93, p. 120 of the examination, that I have nothing to add but refer to it, and this explanation deprives that passage in the letter of all the harshness which might otherwise be found in it. With what right Count Brandt could be accused of having an understanding with Count Struensee, and of striving to sustain him, is proved by his explanation to questions 64, 65, and 68 of the examination, in which he gives a full account how he had resolved to overthrow Count Struensee, from the time when he perceived the encroachments of the latter; that he consulted with Count von der Osten about this operation, by which Count Struensee was to be placed under arrest at Kronborg—a proposal which was not carried into effect, solely through an earlier, riper, and more successful interruption. As regards this disposition, the count has appealed to the testimony of Privy Councillor von der Osten, and I am convinced that[19] this statement of Count Brandt has been imparted to his excellency, who has not disavowed it. Count Brandt's letter to Struensee, and the answer of the latter, which have been produced by the Fiscal General, prove how little desire Count Brandt had to enter into Count Struensee's views; that his whole conduct and thought was to surrender the post which he occupied, and to be allowed to quit the court. There is further evidence of this in the fact that when Count Struensee offered him the ministerial post of Privy Councillor von der Osten, he refused it, and preferred retirement from court to this pleasant office. All this destroys the charges which the Fiscal General has alleged in the preliminary part of his indictment of Count Brandt.

"According to the Fiscal General, Count Brandt, of his free will, and after due reflection, went in to his master the king and challenged, abused, attacked, and bit him."

If Count Brandt performed this execrable deed in the way the Fiscal General represents it, his righteous king would not have hesitated a moment to have had him thrown into fetters, and given him his well-merited reward—the hardest death. His Majesty, however after this event is stated to have occurred, namely, at the end of September, for several months admitted[20] him to his presence as before, and granted him his most gracious daily intercourse, which satisfactorily proves that his royal Majesty did not regard the aforesaid occurrence as criminal.

Count Brandt, for his part, equally little regarded it as audacious, either when the affair occurred, or afterwards. For, just as he described it, in its full details, in presence of the commission, when nothing could induce him to do so but the innocence which, according to his opinion, lay in the whole affair, if the circumstances connected with it were taken into consideration in the same way, his open confession proves the confidence he placed in his innocence, as the affair could not be proved by witnesses; and the man who knows himself to be innocent is never criminal. This confession of Count Brandt, therefore, must, as the sole existing proof in the affair, be registered as credible, just as well in those passages where it speaks for his acquittal as where it serves to testify against him.

From this deposition, which perfectly agrees with Count Struensee's statement before the commission on March 21, we see what in this strange affair speaks in Count Brandt's defence. We must, therefore, regard in the first instance the peculiar circumstance that his Majesty the King, for the sake of enjoying the pleasures of private intercourse, as people of equal rank carry it on together—although the "sweetness" of such intercourse usually shuns thrones—commanded[21] that the man whom he selected as his intimate should not consort with him as the king, but as his equal, or as one friend with the other. If Count Brandt, through submissive respect, addressed him differently, the king answered sarcastically, "Most submissive knave," in order to remind him of the commands which had been given, that Count Brandt in daily intercourse should forget he was the king, just as one of his Majesty's ancestors, of most revered memory used to act, and at times remarked, "Now the king is not at home;" and, again, when the free conversation was to have an end, "The king is at home again now."[2] But his present Majesty never would be at home, so to speak, for the man he had admitted to his intimacy, but demanded equality.

From those men selected for his constant society, the king demanded what is understood by the term un homme fait, that they should be smart fellows, and before all, have their heart in the right place, of which they must furnish a proof if he desired it, and he could not on any terms endure cowards, because such disgusted his heroic nature. As now his Majesty had seen no proof of this good quality from Count Brandt, not even after many inducements had been given, because Count Brandt always held back, his Majesty[22] most effectually forced them from him by threatening to cudgel him in the presence of the queen, Struensee, and other persons. Count Brandt, who regarded this as a real sign of the king's disfavour, fell into a state of desperation about it, until he was informed by Struensee, who had spoken with the king on the subject, that his Majesty's wishes and most gracious intentions were only directed to obtain a proof of Brandt's courage. It was for this reason that Count Brandt one evening, without feeling the slightest anger, went into the king, and, after ordering out the lad, who was not to witness the sport, stated to the king that he had been told by Count Struensee that his Majesty wished him to prove himself a man of courage, and to do so against the king. His Majesty, far from being offended at such a scene on the part of Count Brandt, "admitted" him, in accordance with his given order, at once to a fight, and the king himself made the first five or six attacks. This would have assuredly taken a very different course if the king had regarded it as an insult. On this occasion, his Majesty involuntarily thrust a finger into Count Brandt's mouth, which the latter quite as innocently seized with his teeth. The defence followed the attack: the king demanded of Count Brandt, presta te virum. Upon this Count Brandt seized the king by the coat, thrust him against the wall, and thus proved that he was stronger than the king; and with this the whole affair ended.

Count Brandt persistently denies having beaten the king, or audaciously raised his hand against his Majesty; he only proved himself to be strong and brave, without seriousness or passion, by his Majesty's commands. His Majesty's own most gracious conduct to Count Brandt also proves that everything passed off without anger and annoyance, as his Majesty showed the count the signal favour of kissing him on the spot, and requesting him to remain and kill the time with conversation, which Count Brandt did by the king's orders, and all of which points to the disposition of their minds, and proves that they were not excited, as is also confirmed by Count Struensee's statement in the examination of March 21, that Count Brandt, when he went in to the king, was not at all irritated, but perfectly calm. After this time his Majesty also promoted him to be grand maître de la garderobe, and carried on his confidential intercourse with him for several months as before, all of which speaks for the nature of this affair. In Count Brandt's heart reigned no bitterness against the king, and no contempt: trembling from veneration, he performed the action which he would have regarded as audacious, had it not been for the king's command. It is true that Count Brandt, a few days previously, laid a riding whip upon a pianoforte standing in the king's ante-chamber, but only did so thoughtlessly, which he afterwards regretted, and as ill-deeds consist in actions carried out but not in inconsiderate designs, this occur[24]rence cannot be reckoned as a crime on the part of Count Brandt.

If Count Brandt employed some expressions against the king which, according to the strict letter, would be highly criminal, he only employed them in the tone of all the rest, and consequently only in jest. I pass over the statements of the witnesses examined, as these people neither heard nor saw the occurrence, but only testify what they heard said about it. On the other hand, the declaration which his Majesty laid before the commission, through his page of the chamber Schack, is of the extremest importance. I read it to Count Brandt, and he has requested me to make the following explanation about it:—

"He did not remember this 'passage' in the way that it flowed from the page's lips: he considers himself too insignificant to contradict a declaration which emanated from the king his master, and only emboldens himself in dust and fetters to mention, that if his Majesty were most graciously disposed to take this affair seriously, as the declaration made by page of the chamber Schack appears to intimate, he regards himself as lost, and will not from this moment attempt any further justification, but will at once throw himself at his Majesty's feet, and seek his salvation in the king's clemency; but in the most submissive confidence in his Majesty's mercy, he would venture most humbly to remind him of the circumstances already mentioned."

As concerns the charge which the Fiscal General derives from the fact that Count Brandt at times went to the king playing the flute, and with his hat on his head, and also in his peignoir, Count Brandt acknowledges that this did occur when he returned from the chase and was heated, but that it was not done through contempt of the king, but because his Majesty preferred such conduct, and never evinced any anger at it. He also dared to appear before the king in his peignoir, which consisted of a cloth surtout, because it was his Majesty's wish that he should come in the dress he was wearing when the king summoned him.

"That Count Brandt did not reveal to the king the improper intercourse which is said to have taken place between the queen and Struensee, by which he has rendered himself guilty of the punishment which the law dictates for this in 6—4—14."

Although Count Brandt felt morally convinced of this improper intercourse between the queen and Count Struensee, still he possessed no juridical proof of it, much less such proofs as he could at once have produced in his defence against the denial of the guilty parties. And what might Count Brandt have reasonably expected if he had alleged such a crime against a reigning queen, who at that time possessed the king's heart, which would have disturbed the king, shamed[26] the queen, and dishonoured the royal house? In that case, 6—4—1 of the law would have been proper for him, even if he could have proved his denunciation instantly. If, for his own part, he could have proved this crime with his life, he would, probably, not have spared his life. Things, however, under the circumstances, remained as they were. Count Brandt would have been a ruined man, without amending the business; and if such a sort of silence were a neck-breaking crime, only few persons in the country would retain their heads.

Whatever forgery Count Struensee may have committed, it does not affect Count Brandt. Even if Count Struensee may have converted the sum of 6,000 dollars, approved by the king into 60,000, Count Brandt knows nothing about it. Count Brandt has not acknowledged this, and it has not been proved against him, nor did he receive 60,000 dollars all at once; but, on one occasion, 10,000 dollars, for which the king's note is still in existence; and the other 50,000 dollars were paid him by Baron Schimmelmann, and, according to Count Struensee's statement, were a present to him from the king. Count Brandt thanked the king for this, who answered him, "It was[27] but fair he should give him a douceur, as he was always with him." Count Brandt never asked for this sum, and if it was given him by the king, he could not refuse it, the less so as, through his daily intercourse with the royal family, he was compelled to play high, in which he lost considerable sums. Count Brandt even declared on this occasion that if the king were indisposed to grant such large sums, he was ready to give the money back.

From all this I believe I have proved that the crimes alleged against Count Brandt are exaggerated. I must therefore most submissively request that Count Enevold Brandt may be acquitted from the accusation of the Fiscal General.

So little did Brandt comprehend the danger of his position, that he sent to the judges the following letter, in which, as Reverdil justly remarks, the Don Quixotism, levity, and inconsequence of his character are displayed in a manner which would be ridiculous under any other circumstances:—

I send you, my judges, a letter to his Majesty,[3] and leave it to you, when you have read it and this pro memoriâ, whether you will then think proper to have it delivered to the king or not. What I now write to you is in the same manner no document which I wish to be placed with the rest, or to be regarded as if it belonged to my trial.

The letter to the king is rather badly written, but the pens given me were very bad. I beg the king's forgiveness, as I now know that in all cases, none excepted, it is the duty of a subject to humiliate himself before his monarch. Previously a flashing sword would not have brought me to do so.

My letter could be more imploring and submissive, but I did not believe that this would please his Majesty. I employ the expression which the king so frequently used: "That no one knew so much about his affairs as I did." This he was accustomed to say to me when he was in a good temper, and I hope thus to recall his thoughts. He often added, that no one bore such a resemblance to him as myself; but I have omitted this expression, as the words would be too[29] bold. I should prefer that this letter should be read to the king at a favourable moment, than that he should read it first himself.

I find it natural that a double doubt will arise with you, my judges, and with all to whom you may show this letter:

(1) Does Brandt deserve, from the nature of the affair, that the king should pardon him fully? and

With the same frankness with which I have explained myself during the whole of my trial, I can assert, that you would at once feel the heartiest compassion, if it were feasible to bring my affair entirely to light, partly by summoning fresh witnesses, partly by cross-examining those who have been heard: but I do not wish this, even though it might cost me life and liberty. I will only mention a few slight but important circumstances, which might induce you to believe that I must feel a bitterness against the king:

(1) That I am said to have bitten the king's finger. My statement proves that I did not hear of it till afterwards. Consequently, it was not done animo nocendi, but was a natural movement for a man to close his mouth when his tongue was caught hold of, and as soon as I perceived it, I asked for pardon. The king tapped me on the cheek, and said: "It does not hurt."

(2) I myself mentioned that I laid a riding whip on the pianoforte, with the intention of taking it in[30] with me to the king: but could that have been known without my frankness? and woe to us, if every thought were to be punished!

(3) On this occasion I employed improper language to the king, although not that of which I am accused: but in the melancholy alternative of displaying my courage either in words or deeds, I chose the former.

(4) An important circumstance, which rendered a proof of such courage rather necessary, was that the king often said: "If I was certain you were a coward, I would post myself behind the door and kill you."

(5) But why was the king so angry? Solely because, from that time, I was more serious and submissive than before, which I did to render the king more reserved, but which had the effect that he supposed I disliked him; and a temper, which has been once rendered captious, soon places the worst construction upon everything.

(6) I declare before God, who knows my heart, that a similar scene never occurred before or afterwards. The king once threw his glove in my face: I stooped, picked it up, and said: "Why do you do that? I am really not cross with you;" and with this he was satisfied.

(7) That I never regarded this occurrence as anything but a joke, the result of youth and eccentricity, is seen from the fact that when the commission began sitting, I was not aware of my offence.

In this way I believe I have answered all doubts. I am quite ready to die, and to endure all the punishments that are imposed upon me. It is God's chastening hand, which I have deserved: but I consider it my duty to speak this once.

His Majesty was angry with me: hence, I was imprisoned; hence, I was put in fetters. I can offer no objection to this: I kiss the hand that smites me, but the hand which smites me can also let loose and forgive, in the same way as Henri IV. frequently forgave much greater offences. Even should you consider that this is too great mercy, and if you wish that I should humiliate myself, personally, before his Majesty, I should not regard such a thing at all as a disgrace.

Oh! my judges, if you would only see what my situation with the king was! and would you could feel as greatly, but forget quite as quickly, what my present position is! Your eyes would assuredly shed tears, and your hearts would be moved by the sincerest compassion! I commend my cause to the hands of God, and beg you for what I have no occasion to beg, namely, to follow your own convictions: with that I shall be perfectly satisfied.

In the letter to his Majesty, I have begged to be allowed to pass my days in peace, and by that I mean a bailiwick in a remote province. I do not know whether such a post is vacant, of which I might entertain hopes, but I know that Bailiff Arnholdt, of Bram[32]stedt [4] (in Holstein) has long wished himself away from there, and that this post is one of the worst. Further my wishes do not extend, and what right could I have to ask!

The drama of the great trial rapidly approached the catastrophe after the charges against Struensee and Brandt were delivered to the commissioners on April 21. Struensee's defence followed on the 22nd; the Fiscal General's reply and Brandt's defence on the 23rd; and so early as the 25th the sentences were promulgated. In Brandt's trial a reply was not even considered necessary, for the accuser had announced this to be superfluous in his sentence, ab uno discimus omnia. But the orders from the highest quarters were for the greatest possible speed, and the length of the sentence proves that it had been drawn up beforehand. That two human lives were at stake, was only so far taken into consideration as it was necessary to prove two judicial murders justifiable by every resource of sophistry; but how little the venal judges succeeded in doing so, will be seen from a perusal of the memorable documents which are here published for the first time without any abbreviation.

CHAPTER II.
THE TWO COUNTS.

Apart from the fact that Count John Frederick Struensee has already been convicted, and has himself confessed that he has committed a terrible crime, which involves in an eminent degree an assault on the king's supremacy, or the crime of high treason, and according to the law (especially art. 1 of cap. iv. of book vi.) deserves the severe penalty of death; it is sufficiently notorious and proven that his whole conduct and management during the time when he[34] had a share in the administration of the affairs was a chain, which, on one side, was composed of vain and audacious impetuosity; on the other, of tricks and intrigues, all of which operated to secure him the whole power and authority to the exclusion of others. At the same time he boldly employed all the measures which appeared to be useful in attaining his ends, without in the slightest degree reflecting whether they were permitted or not, and how far they accorded with the form of government and the constitution, the genius of the nation and the regulations and laws, both civil and fundamental, or were in strict opposition to them.

His great design was partly to become privy cabinet minister, with the extraordinary and unparalleled authority which he filched in the last month of July, partly to exclude all the subjects from their king, and the king from them; partly to exercise at court and over his Majesty such an unbridled power as has been seen with astonishment.

In order to attain this end, he strove, during his Majesty's foreign journey, to gain his most gracious favour by proved care for the king's health and pleasure. When his Majesty returned, Struensee behaved quietly, and seemed to think of nothing less than the attachment of charges and honours, although his ambition and his love of power desired them.

He lived at court, amused himself, demanded no increase of his salary, and seemed to satisfy himself[35] with peace and voluptuousness; but in secret he zealously strove to lay the foundation on which he intended to raise his proud fortune.

It was not his business to learn the language of the country, to study the position and true interest of the kingdom, and to learn its civil laws and constitution. This was the way which he ought to have chosen; but about all these things he was, and remained, in the deepest ignorance. Instead of this, he preferred to establish the principles which his Majesty should follow in the government, so that he might use them in concealing his infamous propositions behind them, and as he had every reason to apprehend that either faithfully minded men might reveal his designs, or that the king himself should detect them; in order to prevent the former effect, he calumniated without distinction all those who had the honour of being allowed to approach the monarch, and in order to secure the latter, he strove to acquire a powerful protection, and to have in the king's neighbourhood so close, constant, and trustworthy a friend, that it was rendered almost impossible for his Majesty to penetrate this man's ways and designs.

No sooner had he got his machine in perfect readiness in the year 1770 than he at once set it in motion.

Since the sovereignty our kings have had a council, composed of men who were experienced in the laws and customs of the country, and had studied the true state-system and real interests of the land, while, at[36] the same time, they knew the rules which were applicable in cases that occurred.

It was their office to attend the king, as often as matters of importance were to be laid before him, in order to afford his Majesty the necessary explanations about everything he wished to know, so that he might give his decision.

These men, however, as members of the council, had no vote, no expedition, no secretaries; for everything depended on the king's will, and everything was carried into effect by the departments concerned.

This traditional and so natural council Struensee and his adherents [6] wished to have entirely abolished and quashed, for this man apprehended that if such a council existed, and even if it were composed of his own friends, the time would arrive when it would oppose his injurious propositions, and reveal them to the king, as he could not exclude them (the members) from speaking with his Majesty, and representing to him what was best for him and the land.

For this end Struensee had previously calumniated the ministry by all sorts of insinuations, and even depicted in the blackest colours those of their actions which were evidently to the advantage of the king and the state.

His Majesty the king, who heartily loves his people, only desires honest officials, and jealously holds to his[37] sovereign power, now lost his confidence in the council, wished to appoint other men to it, and to give it a different constitution; but Struensee, by false statements, and the most cunning tricks, laid such obstacles in the king's way that the council gradually ceased to meet, and was finally solemnly abolished by a decree of December 27, 1770.

At the same time, he became maître des requêtes, and as it was his plan that only he should have the right to speak to the king about the affairs, and that all other persons should be excluded from doing so, it appeared to him that the remaining colleges might still lay some impediments in his way.

In order to prevent this, he represented to his Majesty the King, who wished to be thoroughly acquainted with the affairs sent in from the colleges for his most gracious decision, that nothing would be more useful for this object than for the colleges to be ordered to deliver their written requests in a portfolio, so that the king might be allowed the requisite time to read through the memoirs and reflect.

By this brilliant, and apparently so useful advice, this man gained his object of also "excluding" the colleges from the king.

He soon seizes the portfolios, and thus becomes the sole master to lay matters before the king at his pleasure.

If the colleges wished to produce further reasons for the king's better information, they must apply to Struensee, and thus he alone became what the council and the colleges together had formerly been.

Under the pretext of a more rapid expedition of various matters, and in order to display the royal authority in its right supremacy, he issued cabinet decrees, which were carried out without the colleges concerned being informed of them,—a conduct which necessarily produced the greatest confusion, and which a man dared, who was neither acquainted with the country nor its laws, its condition nor its language. But this did not trouble him at all, so long as he could grasp all the respect and all the power.

This ignorance of Count Struensee in everything, which every minister in Denmark must know, and his extremely slight efforts to obtain a knowledge of it, entailed innumerable disadvantages, both generally and for private persons.

In the colleges, which were formerly accustomed to send in their reports in Danish, a special official had to be appointed to translate them into German, so that Count Struensee might read them in this language. The Danish Chancery, the only college which continued to report in Danish, had only too often opportunity for learning that these representations were not read at all, as only an extract of the proposition, which, by command, was inserted in what was called the Rotulus, was translated into German and seen by Count Struensee, after which the resolution ensued in the German language, and was again translated into Danish in the Chancery. It could not fail but that the resolution often proved equivocal, incomprehen[39]sible, and but little adapted to the affair, of which the man who represented it to his Majesty had only rarely a correct idea.

Private persons who wished to send in petitions to the cabinet, and had drawn them up in the Danish language, ran about to find a German translator, as they were of the possibly not incorrect opinion that their memorial, if such was only in Danish, would not be read, while these cheap translations often turned out so, that it was impossible to discern what was the real object of the petition.

Count Struensee's ignorance of the organization of the colleges, his unwillingness to instruct himself about it, and his exertions to reform the entire old state constitution, and to increase the number of his adherents by appointing persons everywhere, and to the highest offices, who owed their fortune to him—all this led him to lay hands on one college after the other. And as he would not and could not work himself, he employed other men in carrying out the important reforms, several of whom afterwards confessed that they had no knowledge of the advantages and defects of the former organization of these colleges, nor attempted to acquire it, as they were only ordered to draw up a plan of the new arrangements after a certain predetermined date.

After Count Struensee had drawn all power and authority into his own hands by removing the privy council, by weakening and reconstituting, and by the[40] exclusion of verbal reports, it was not long ere his Majesty's subjects perceived the effects of his, Struensee's, despotic principles and ideas.

As a consequence of the before-mentioned paternal and mild government, to which people had been long accustomed in Denmark, and which had to some extent acquired a traditional right, every one who had obtained a royal appointment considered himself justified in believing that he should retain it so long as he behaved himself properly and attended to his duties, and therefore ran no risk of losing his post against his will, so long as he was not declared unworthy of it through a judicial sentence on account of malversation, errors, or negligence. These moderate principles, which characterised the mildness of the government, and had many excellent results, were not at all to Count Struensee's taste, who did not wish to be in the least degree impeded when the object was to ruin people, and imbue others with terror.

For this reason it was heard frequently, nay, almost daily, that first one, then the other, royal official was removed by a cabinet order, without their learning what error they had committed, or in what their offence consisted.[7]

Several persons also lost their posts without any royal resolution on the subject being imparted to them, and without knowing anything of it, till they learned that their office had been given to another man by a cabinet order. This conduct was even extended to the dismissal of entire colleges.

The entire magistracy, consisting of from eighteen to twenty, or even more persons, was abolished, and a new magistracy was appointed by a cabinet order addressed on April 3, 1771, to the president, who had been appointed to this post only a few days previously, and also by a cabinet decree, and who contented himself with informing the previous members of the magistracy by letter that they were dismissed, and the new ones that they were to assemble at the town-hall without the deposed members learning what offence they had committed, or why they were discharged.

In addition to the magistracy, there was another college or public assembly in Copenhagen, namely, the so-called thirty-two men, as, owing to the bravery and fidelity so solemnly displayed by the Copenhageners during the siege, and on the establishment of the sovereignty,[8] it was conceded among the privileges granted to the citizens on June 24, 1664, that they[42] should be allowed to elect thirty-two of the best and most respected citizens, who would, with the magistracy, consult about the welfare of the city, and its revenues and out-goings. In these privileges access to his Majesty's person was also granted to the city deputies and the magistracy.

This assembly, which was regarded as the highest of these privileges, and had had many good results, and, moreover, did not cost the king or city a farthing, was also dissolved by the aforesaid cabinet order, by virtue of which the chief president informed the men that they were no longer permitted to meet, and ordered the council-hall to be closed. This, and many other instances of a similar nature, which all proved that nothing was sacred to this equally incautious and absolute man, and that he was as great an enemy of all sense and mildness as he was of order and good morals, produced a striking effect upon the nation, which fancied itself suddenly removed under an "Oriental climate."

Some lamented and sighed, others expressed their amazement or bitterness in one way or the other. But all were agreed that his Majesty's mild and paternal heart for his subjects was still the same, if their complaints and sighs could only penetrate to the throne, and the real posture of the affair be represented to his Majesty.

This, however, seemed quite impossible, owing to the precautions which Count Struensee had taken in[43] this respect. He had placed his intimate friend, Count Brandt, near the king,[9] and as he, in accordance with the well-known proverb, nulla amicitia nisi inter bonos, was not fully convinced of the duration of this friendship, he sought to insure its permanence by a mutual interest, and, as will be shown presently, at the expense of his Majesty and the royal treasury.

Count Brandt, who was always about the king, confirmed him in everything that Count Struensee alleged or insinuated, and prevented everybody from having an opportunity to convince his Majesty of the opposite truth.

There was no council, and, so to speak, no minister. No one succeeded in speaking alone with the king, save those persons of whose devotion Count Struensee considered himself assured and if it ever happened, it was only for moments which admitted of no detailed explanation or discussion. All the rest were held aloof from his Majesty, which was even extended to his Majesty's own most exalted relatives and his nearest family, toward whom the king had formerly displayed special tenderness and affection. But from the time when Count Struensee had usurped the administration of the court and of the whole country, the latter never[44] had an opportunity of conversing alone with the king, as they would not have omitted to represent to his Majesty the good of his subjects and their grief, of which these exalted personages afterwards, when the opportunity was offered, have given incontrovertible proofs, which can never be sufficiently praised and recognised.

It could not fail but that Count Struensee should render himself odious to all, through such despotic, arbitrary, and unreasonable conduct.

His emissaries, and the adherents whom he still possessed, tried, even though they did not dare to justify or excuse his undertakings, at least to boast of his asserted disinterestedness, and to spread far and wide that he was satisfied with his moderate salary, without asking either money or honours for himself or his friends. How far this met with belief may be left an open question. But it is certain that Count Struensee took very carefully-devised measures to conceal his selfishness at that time, and so long as it lasted. But it was afterwards seen only too plainly that he was an extremely interested and selfish man, of whom it may be justly said that he pillaged his Majesty's treasury.

He had a very respectable and considerable salary, which ought to have been sufficient, as he had everything free at court down to the very banquets he gave. He knew, and often enough proclaimed, in what a bad state the public treasury and his Majesty's were from former times.

For all that, after the council was dissolved, and he had become maître des requêtes, he allowed hardly three months to pass ere he, by an abuse of his Majesty's good heart, demanded and received from his most gracious lord a present of 10,000 dollars for himself, and a similar sum for his friend Count Brandt. It might be supposed that so considerable a present for these two persons, of whom one was maître des requêtes, and the other directeur des spectacles, and who both had only held these offices for a short time, would have satisfied their greediness for a while. But, instead of this, we find that it grew and increased, for Count Struensee, after receiving the above mentioned present in February or March, again received in May, or at the end of two or three months, from his Majesty 50,000 or 60,000 dollars, and Count Brandt the same sum, so that these two persons, in the short time of three or four months, cost his Majesty, in addition to their regular salary, 140,000 dollars, or at least 120,000—for which of these two sums is the correct one cannot as yet be stated with certainty, owing to the confusion prevailing in Count Struensee's accounts—and this in addition to the presents which before and after this date they procured for their good friends: such as Justiz-rath Struensee 4,000 dollars, Countess Holstein 3,000, Chamberlain Falckenskjold 3,500 or more, and so on.

That Count Struensee's irresponsible selfishness was duly considered and intended, is seen from the artificial machinery which he formed, solely that he might be[46] able to take these sums without any one detecting it.

For this purpose, he first proposed the abolition of what was called the "Trésor"—which consisted of a sum of money laid by for unforeseen expenses, and that it should be paid into the public treasury. As the Trésor, however, must pass through the cabinet on its way to the public exchequer, he proposed to his Majesty to reserve 250,000 dollars of the same, in order to form a special cabinet treasury which would stand under his control.

In this way Count Struensee obtained a good opportunity for receiving considerable sums, without any one being acquainted with the fact.

He behaved in such a way with this treasury, that after it was established in April, 1771, and at that time consisted of 250,000 dollars, at the end of May only 118,000 dollars remained of the original contents, although the king had no other out-goings but these presents.

The remaining 118,000 dollars would have gone by degrees the same road as the others if Struensee had been allowed sufficient time.

Count Struensee's disgraceful avarice and selfishness are thus rendered so evident, that those persons who proclaimed him as disinterested must fairly confess that they knew him badly, and were not properly informed.[10]

But this is not sufficient. There is the very strongest presumption that Count Struensee in this traffic committed an impudent, disgraceful, and highly criminal fraud. When the account found among Count Struensee's papers, and approved by his Majesty, of the income and expenditure of the special treasury for the months of April and May, was laid before his Majesty, as it was considered suspicious, the king at once declared that he perfectly well remembered having at that time given 10,000 dollars to the queen, 6,000 to Count Brandt, and other 6,000 to Count Struensee, but no more. Just as these sums amount to 22,000 dollars, it is on an inspection of the document as clear as the sun that the addition was in the first instance 22,000 dollars, but the first figure two was converted into a three—a change which is so visible that it is at once noticed—and that a one was afterwards added, for which there was no other room but in front of the line drawn underneath, which is quite contrary to the practice in the other accounts, and in this very one on the preceding page, where the in-comings are calculated. Hence, then, the said sum of 22,000 dollars became 132,000, which is proved by the fact that the two sums of 6,000 dollars for Struensee and Brandt were converted into 60,000 by the addition of a[48] cipher, and 2,000 dollars were added for Falckenskjold. This last sum seems to have been added, in order not to be obliged to convert the second two into a cipher in the sum of 22,000 dollars, which had become 130,000.

These suppositions, the real strength of which only that man can comprehend who has the document in question before him, is also confirmed by other concurrent circumstances—as, for instance, that the account for April and May is written by Struensee himself, while the other extracts and calculations are written by the secretary of the cabinet, which probably occurred because Count Struensee wished no one to be cognizant of the embezzlement effected by him, and further by the fact that, from this time, Count Struensee laid no account of the treasury before the king until the end of October, although in June there was an out-going of 2,000 dollars, which were given to Justiz-rath Struensee.[11]

This negligence or omission appears to have taken place purposely, so that his Majesty, after so long an interval, might not thoroughly remember the real state of the treasury. To this must be added his Majesty's own alleged and very natural conjecture[49] that it cannot be credited that he gave Counts Struensee and Brandt 50,000 or 60,000 dollars apiece, while he only made the queen a present of 10,000.

Count Struensee, who is obliged to confess the selfishness of having requested this money of the king, will not, however, acknowledge this embezzlement, but asserts that his Majesty at that time, on his request, gave him 50,000 dollars, and Count Brandt the same sum, and that, as the 10,000 dollars previously given had not been taken to account, they were included in this amount. On the document being produced before the commission, however, he was obliged to allow that all the facts concurred against him to arouse such a presumption, which he had no evidence to refute, while at the same time, he regretted his want of accuracy and his negligence.

That Count Struensee's ambition was not less than his avidity, and that his "moderation," as regards honours and titles, was in no way inferior to that for money and resources, is equally self-evident.

Within two years he made such progress as others of greater nobility and higher merit hardly make in thirty years and more. According to the position which he occupied, he could not fail to stand in great honour both at court and in the city. But all this was not enough for him.

Through constant persuasion he brought it about that his Majesty appointed him on July 14, 1771, privy cabinet minister, which design he contrived to[50] conceal up to the last moment, even from his most intimate friends, just as he, and Chamberlain Brandt were a few days later raised to the rank of counts.[12]

Although as privy cabinet minister he regarded himself as the first private person in the whole kingdom, still, the title and the authority he had hitherto possessed did not suffice him; but he wished to have prerogatives connected with them which were not at all seemly for a subject, and involved a portion of the sovereign authority which belonged to the king alone.

Count Struensee had already seized on all the power, and as those persons who were about the king spoke in Struensee's behalf, and his Majesty thus only heard praises of his minister, it was perfectly natural that he should have a certain liking for him, and as he was nearly the only person who discussed the affairs with his Majesty, it could not fail that the latter should[51] consent to everything he proposed. Thus he had everything that he could crave; but this was not sufficient to satisfy his immoderate ambition, as the colleges refused to obey unless they saw the king's signature.

This did not suit Struensee, and there are grounds for believing that it did not agree with his secret designs, and his wish that his signature should be worth as much as the king's, and that the persons concerned should obey both signatures.

This he attained by the royal order projected by himself, which was issued to the colleges on July 15, 1771, with reference to his office as privy cabinet minister, and was afterwards published by them; for in the first article of this cabinet order the decrees signed by Struensee, and provided with the cabinet seal, were placed perfectly parallel with those signed by his Majesty himself, and countersigned by Struensee, and in the fourth article it is expressly ordered that everybody should execute the cabinet orders issued and expedited by Struensee. It is true that this article seems to contain a certain limitation, where it states, "so far as no royal regulation or resolution speaks to the contrary;" but what follows on this may be rather regarded as an extension, for, instead of stating, as might be expected, that in such a case execution was to be deferred until a royal resolution was issued, it continues, "in which case, the fact is to be immediately reported to the cabinet," so that if any[52] one thought it his duty to remonstrate against Struensee or his order, he would have to apply to Struensee himself; and if the minister then commanded him to obey his first order and carry it out, he must do so. This is what Count Struensee intended and practiced. In this way, however, he filched a portion of the sovereignty, and, from what had previously happened, it might be concluded that he intended to exercise it alone.

As Struensee acknowledges having read the Lex Regia, and as he as minister must have been fully acquainted with its contents, he must have known that article 7 resolves "that all government decrees, letters, and documents shall be signed by the king himself." But the article of the royal law most applicable here is the 26th, in which the most revered king and first autocrat, Frederick III., appears to have had a species of presentiment that a Struensee might one day arise in Denmark, because it is stated in it how injurious it is when the mildness and kindness of kings and masters are so abused that their power and authority are cut away in an almost imperceptible manner, and for this reason it is recommended to, and impressed on, the kings of Denmark zealously to watch over their sovereignty and autocracy in order to keep it uninjured; and the conclusion is, that if any one should dare to desire or appropriate anything which might in any way be prejudicial to the sovereign authority and monarchical power of the king, everything of the sort shall be[53] regarded as null and void, and those who have not hesitated to acquire such a thing, or tried to do so, shall be punished as insulters of majesty, because they have committed the greatest crime against the supremacy of the royal autocracy.

Count Struensee could have read his sentence here, if he had not committed another and equally coarse offense against the king's highness, apart from the fact that he was not only an accomplice and adviser, but also an inciter of the assault made on his Majesty's person by his intimate friend Count Brandt.

The way in which Count Struensee exercised the power and authority entrusted to him as privy cabinet minister does not excuse him, but, on the contrary, incriminates him in the highest degree, because it is a further proof that he regarded the welfare, honour, life, and property of his Majesty's subjects as purely dependent on his discretion.

He revoked, by cabinet orders drawn up by himself, and under his hand, former royal resolutions, of whose existence he was cognizant.

In the most important affairs he issued orders without his Majesty's knowledge, and he partly neglected the extracts from cabinet decrees imposed upon him as a duty by the resolution of July 15, which he was to lay before the king every week, or drew them up in such a way that it was impossible to discover the nature of the orders, or the effect they were intended to produce.

When the direction of the privy treasury was entrusted to him—for he wished to direct all the treasuries—he thought proper to give the cashier fresh instructions from his hand; and when the cashier represented to him that he held a royal instruction which could only be revoked by another royal resolution, he gave him an answer which contained a species of reprimand, and ordered him to obey the order and instruction given by him, Struensee.

The pretty corps of Horse Guards, which was composed exclusively of Danes and Norwegians, and consequently did not please Count Struensee—or, as it only consisted of two squadrons, was not very expensive—was disbanded in February, 1771, by Count Struensee's proposition, and in accordance with his wish, but against the opinion of the college.[13]

The Fusilier Guards still remained. They consisted of five companies, and were composed of none but clever and trustworthy men, to whom the guard of the royal palace, and before the apartments of the royal house, could be safely entrusted; but they possessed a "quality" which prevented Struensee from being able to place confidence in them,—they were nearly all Danes and Norwegians.

He had long resolved on the reduction of this corps,[55] and spoken with several persons about it, most of whom, however, dissuaded him. At length he carried it through, and without his Majesty's knowledge (as the king himself has declared)[14] issued, on December 21, 1771, a cabinet order to the Generalty and Commissariat College, by which the five companies of Foot Guards were to be transformed into five companies of grenadiers, and one company of them be attached to each of the five regiments quartered in Copenhagen.

He allowed December 21, 22, and 23 to pass without telling his Majesty anything about it, although Struensee, on the 23rd, procured the Generalty the royal approbation of the said order of the 21st, because this college required a royal resolution, and refused without it to execute the cabinet order, as it considered the affair of too great importance, and foresaw the consequences that would result from it.

As, however, the Guards on December 24 declared that their capitulation must be kept, and that it was contrary to it to make them serve in other regiments,[56] Struensee found himself compelled to lay the whole matter before his Majesty, and advised that force should be employed, and the Guards compelled to obey. However, a royal order was issued on December 24, by which those guards who would not serve as grenadiers were granted their discharge.

The result of this operation of Count Struensee's therefore was, that his Majesty lost from his military service several hundred brave, faithful, and trustworthy men, who were all natives. Count Struensee's improper and treacherous conduct in this affair is at once seen on comparing the protocol kept about the cabinet orders, with the weekly extract from them, which was laid before his Majesty.

In the protocol we find the said order of December 21, under No. 709, quoted with the correct date. After this, several other cabinet orders were drawn up, to No. 733, on December 22, 23, and 24; but the second cabinet order of December 24 is not found among them, but a space is left open at the very end, in order to book it afterwards. But in the extract from the cabinet orders expedited from December 18 to 25, which was drawn up on December 31, and afterwards laid before his Majesty, we find these two orders of December 21 and 24 quoted together at the end, under the numbers 22 and 23, just as if they had been expedited at the same time and under the same date, while, on the contrary, the cabinet orders issued from December 22 to 23 are omitted from this extract.[57] From this a general idea of the completeness and trustworthiness of these extracts may be formed.

This protocol further proves how Count Struensee—although he had long before sufficiently provided that no one should bring before the king either verbally or in writing anything that might injure him, Struensee—found himself obliged, at the time when the guards were dismissed, to take just precautions. For under date of December 23 he expedited two cabinet orders, one to (the Danish chief postmaster) Etats-rath Waitz, in Hamburg, that the packets for his Majesty sent by post should be addressed to the cabinet, the other to Court-Intendant Wegener, by which all letters and parcels sent to the king, and letters and portfolios that came in from Copenhagen, should not be delivered in the king's ante-chamber, but in the cabinet. One of these orders, though they immediately concerned the king, was entirely omitted in the above-mentioned extract, while the other was quoted imperfectly, so that his Majesty was not at all informed of these regulations.

Just as Count Struensee more and more evinced his distrust of the nation, so the reciprocal hatred of the nation against him increased more and more (and was expressed), in various ways. Thus, in the summer of 1771, various pasquinades were in circulation, and although their contents and style sufficiently proved that they emanated from the common people, still they all displayed the strongest attach[58]ment to his Majesty's person, and a readiness to sacrifice life and blood for him, while the bitterness had no other object but the privy cabinet minister and his adherents.

This, and the fact that a few sailors and others who believed themselves insulted, went out to Hirschholm in order to lay their complaints before his Majesty himself, caused Count Struensee such terror, that he made preparations and was on the point of taking flight and running away.

As he, however—probably by the advice of his friends—desisted from this design, it seemed as if he, on the other hand, prepared to maintain himself in his post, and against everybody, in every possible way. This gave cause to various hitherto unknown measures.

When their Majesties came to town, at which times Count Struensee always accompanied them, they were surrounded by an unusual escort; wherever they stopped in town, at the palace or in the theatre, double sentries were posted, &c.

Such a course increased the bitterness of the nation, and especially of the Copenhageners, against Count Struensee in more than one respect. They saw in it a proof that he persuaded his Majesty to believe there were among the inhabitants people who entertained bad designs against his Majesty and the royal house. They were confirmed in their suspicion that Count Struensee entertained other, more extensive, ambi[59]tious, and, at the same time, most audacious and criminal designs.

It must also be confessed that much of what happened during this summer, but more especially in autumn, must confirm them in this belief, and produce a strong presumption of it, as he has himself been obliged to confess that several of his measures were intended to maintain himself in every way in the situation he occupied.

As, however, Count Struensee, who always lived in fear, wished to have some cavalry in the vicinity of the court, an exercising troop was formed. But, ere long, he learned that both the officers and men of this corps were natives, so that they were not at all the sort he wanted, whence his confidence in them was lost, and this troop was also disbanded in the autumn.

He then ordered the Seeland Dragoons to the court and the city, but they have given incontrovertible testimony that they were no better disposed toward him than the preceding dragoons.

He now obtained a resolution that two of the regiments lying in garrison here should be removed to other towns in the spring. But, instead of letting this fall on the two youngest regiments, as the rule was, he wished—for reasons known to himself, and which it is not difficult to conjecture—that they should be his Majesty the King's, and his brother the Prince Frederick's, regiments, contrary to the opinion of the[60] Generalty, and without informing his royal highness, the colonel of the latter regiment, or asking his assent to it. Furthermore, he managed to have a new commandant of Copenhagen appointed, in whom he believed he could place full confidence.

But what heightened the distrust most, and excited the inhabitants of Copenhagen, was the following last-discovered circumstance, that, according to Struensee's instructions to the commandant, cannon, with cartridges and the proper complement of men, were held in readiness at the arsenal, so that they could be used at the first signal,—a regulation which was also concealed from his Majesty.[15]

The king and the royal house, as well as the whole nation, must at last lose all patience when they were compelled to see, in addition to all the rest, how audaciously he behaved in the harsh and extraordinary education which he dared to give to the crown prince, and by which his royal highness ran the greatest risk of losing his health and life.

Thus, then, the bitterness was raised to the highest pitch, and must have had the most dangerous consequences, when a fortunate end was put to the widely-extended designs and despotic administration of this vain, thoughtless, arbitrary, and ambitious man.

As it is clear, therefore, that Count Struensee, in more than one way and in more than one respect, has[61] both himself committed the crime of high treason in an eminent degree, as well as participated in similar crimes with others; and that, further, his whole administration was a chain of violence and selfishness, which he ever sought to attain in a disgraceful and criminal manner; and that he also displayed contempt of religion, morality, and good manners, not only by word and deed, but also through public regulations, the following sentence is passed on him, according to the words of article 1 of chapter iv. of the 6th book of the Danish law:—

Count John Frederick Struensee shall, as a well-deserved punishment for himself and an example and warning for others of the same mind, have forfeited honour, life, and property, and be degraded from his dignity of count, and all other honours which have been conferred on him, and his noble coat of arms be broken by the executioner: John Frederick Struensee's right hand shall be cut off while he is alive, and then his head, his body quartered and exposed on the wheel, but his head and hand shall be stuck upon a pole.

Two days after this barbarous sentence was passed, it received the full royal confirmation in the following words:—

We hereby approve, in all points, the sentence passed by the Commission of Inquiry appointed by us at our Palace of Christiansborg, which declares John Frederick Struensee, on account of his crimen læsæ Majestatis, in more than one point to have forfeited honour, life, and property; he shall be degraded from his dignity of count, and all the other dignities conferred on him; his coat of arms shall also be broken by the executioner; his right hand shall be cut off while he is alive, and then his head, his body quartered and exposed on a wheel, but his head and hand stuck on a pole. To which those whom it concerns will pay most submissive attention.

By Count Brandt's own confession, the declaration of the ex-cabinet minister John Frederick Struensee, and various circumstances, it has been already proved that Count Enevold Brandt was not only Struensee's[63] good friend, but also his intimate, whom he (Struensee) entrusted with his greatest secrets.

In consideration of the gracious intimacy in which he stood with his Majesty the King, it would have been his duty, therefore, to prevent all the things which, according to his own declaration when examined, he disapproved, and must have recognised in Struensee's life, sentiments, and undertakings, as foolish, audacious, and detrimental both for the king and the government and the country.

Instead of this, he, as a criminal subject and unworthy confidential servant of the king, made common cause with Struensee, continually remained his confidant, and sought to sustain him.

He allowed himself to be employed by Struensee in keeping everybody from the king, so that nothing should be revealed to his Majesty about Struensee's criminal conduct, and the share himself had in it.

To the great concern of all his fellow-subjects he behaved haughtily, and not with the due respect to his king, both in private and in the sight of all men.

He did not show the submissive reverence to the king which every subject owes him, and expresses voluntary from his heart on every occasion in word and deed, but he rather opposed the king, in order to maintain Struensee's favour, and acquire an extravagant fortune and special advantages for himself.

The memoirs exchanged between him and Struensee furnish a proof of his unreasonable pretension, and that[64] he was conscious of his reprehensible behaviour toward the king. From this cause he should have altered his conduct, or sooner have resigned a post which was repulsive to him, and for which he did not consider himself equal. But no, he did not wish to oppose his patron and protector, who, for his own purposes, desired to keep him, Brandt, about the king's person, while, on the other hand, Count Brandt expected greater fortunes in service and pecuniary affairs from him, Struensee.

As directeur des spectacles, he assisted Struensee in producing a misunderstanding in the royal family by contriving that a separate box should be given Prince Frederick in the playhouse, so that his royal highness should not be in the king's box, and thus have an opportunity for revealing to his Majesty, Brandt and his intimate friend's most culpable conduct.[16]

He obtained through Struensee in a short period 60,000 dollars from the royal treasury, although he must have known, or at least could not have doubted, that he had not earned them by his services or general conduct.

When he thanked his Majesty for this large sum, he did not mention the amount which Struensee had procured him, because he knew that the matter was not all right, and Struensee had forbidden his doing so, lest his Majesty might thus be informed of that which[65] the approved extract, found among Struensee's papers, has since revealed to his Majesty and every other person who sees the extract.

Count Brandt has been guilty of all this criminality, although his conscience must reveal to him at every moment that he was acting as an unfaithful subject, and against the duty and the bond imposed on him by the king's gracious familiarity, and in defiance of the warnings which the two letters from an anonymous writer found in Brandt's pocket-book so impressively and clearly contained, by reminding him of his duties, and advising him what he should do if he did not wish to risk his head.

He only allowed himself to be ruled and guided by his arrogance, fortune-hunting, and avarice.

But though the things mentioned appear so criminal, they cannot be compared with the crime of laying hands on the exalted person of his Majesty the King, which Count Enevold Brandt has himself clearly and regularly confessed in his examination before the commission, and as it has been proved and confirmed by several witnesses. For this crime may be regarded as if Count Brandt wished to hazard the king's death, because the result of such an assault cannot be foreseen, and an unlucky blow on a tender part has frequently caused death.

He was angry with the king, and demanded satisfaction of his master, whose well-deserved admonition he ought to have accepted in penitence for his previous[66] conduct, and have withdrawn himself from his (the king's) countenance, in order not to irritate him more.

On the contrary, he consulted with his intimate friend Struensee how and when he should assault the king, and reflected what sort of weapon he should employ, and held it in readiness; but after more mature reflection, made no use of it.

After he had been warned by Struensee that the king was now alone, and the right time had arrived, he goes with reflection, and a firm determination to avenge himself, in to the king, orders out the two lads in attendance, and bolts the door, so that no one may come in to oppose his resolution or to prevent his design, and forces his Majesty the King, by language and assault, to offer resistance.

While doing so, he wounds his Majesty in the neck, bites his finger, and at the same time insults his benefactor and king by audacious words and expressions of such a nature that everybody must feel horrified at repeating them.

It is true that Count Brandt has urged, in his excuse, that his Majesty has pardoned him for this occurrence, yet, even were it so, it can only be supposed that his Majesty wished to overlook so great an insult for a time. Count Brandt, however, has produced no proof of this, and his Majesty alone is in a position to judge how far this indulgence should extend.

This most atrocious and audacious undertaking of Count Brandt cannot be regarded otherwise than as an open attack on the king's person, and the greatest crime of high treason, which deserves the punishment attached to such a crime in art. 1, 4th chapter of the 6th book of the Danish law.

We, therefore, consider ourselves justified in condemning Count Brandt, and passing the following sentence:—

Count Enevold Brandt shall have forfeited honour, life, and property, and be degraded from his dignity of count, and all the other honours conferred on him; his coat of arms shall be broken by the executioner on the scaffold; his right hand cut off while he is still alive; then the head; his body quartered and exposed on the wheel; but his head and hand stuck on a pole.

We hereby approve in all points the sentence passed by the Commission of Inquiry appointed by us at the[68] Christiansborg Palace, which declares that Enevold Brandt, for his most atrocious and audacious design and assault on our own person, shall have forfeited honour, life, and property, and that he shall be degraded from his dignity as count, and all the other honours conferred on him; that his coat of arms shall be broken by the executioner on the scaffold; after that his right hand be cut off while he is alive; and then his head; and that the body shall be quartered and exposed on the wheel; but the head and hand stuck on a pole. Whereupon those whom it concerns are ordered to act accordingly.

These sentences are certainly among the rarest documents which the annals of justice contain. Struensee was convicted of a single crime; Brandt was innocent. In the sentence, Struensee's crime is not stated, and the whole document is a disgustingly long narrative of undecided actions, not one of which would offer grounds for a sentence of death. Reverdil, usually so cool and impartial, cannot restrain his feelings when he writes about these atrocious verdicts:—

"The sentences were minuted by Wiwet. They were inserted in the newspapers; among others, the Leyden Gazette. They seem expressly drawn up to dishonour the king, the judges, and the country. The crimes proved are confounded in them with presumptions, offences with imprudences, faults peculiar to favourites with those in which, as they were covered by the king's authority, the culpability falls on him. In the fear of not charging enough, intentions and passions are taken into account. In the sentence passed on Brandt, after describing the scene of fisticuffs, which so strongly revealed the king's imbecility, they were not ashamed to add: 'Count Brandt has certainly alleged in his defence that the king had pardoned him; but even supposing that the fact was proved, it could not be understood otherwise than that his Majesty was kind enough to suffer so great an extremity for a time. After all, the culprit has proved nothing in this respect, and his Majesty is the sole judge of the extent he gives to his own indulgence.' When this extraordinary document was read to the man whom it concerned, he said very justly in his way, that its author deserved a hundred lashes with a stirrup-leather."

It is not surprising to find that the authenticity of the sentences was not believed when they were published in foreign countries. Thus we read in the Annales Belgiques for May, 1772:—

"A sentence ought to state the facts simply, and[70] declare the penalty which is pronounced against the man who has been guilty of them. Care should be taken to avoid mixing up in it reasonings and epithets which denote in the judge a disposition for vengeance or any passion: now this pamphlet, which is offered us under the title of a sentence, displays from one end to the other such marked characters of a violent prejudice against the condemned, that this in itself would be sufficient to render it suspicious. It forms a tissue of vague imputations which can be easily destroyed."

But the dominant faction did not trouble itself about what might be said: sentence had been passed, and the next matter of importance was to have it executed before any revulsion took place in public opinion.

CHAPTER III.
THE EXECUTION.

On the same day that the sentences were signed by the Commissioners, Uldall, the counsel, went to Struensee, in order to inform him of the termination of the trial.

When the advocate entered the cell, he said to the unhappy victim of a conspiracy:

And with these scant words he drew a copy of the approved sentence out of his pocket.

Calmly and silently the man condemned to such a cruel death perused the sentence, but not the slightest alteration took place in his countenance. Then, he handed the ominous paper to Dr. Münter, who happened to be with him at the time.

While the latter was trembling as he read the sentence, Struensee began to talk with composure with his counsel, and asked if all the points of his accusation had been regarded in passing his sentence, especially that about the education of the crown prince; to which Uldall answered in the affirmative. Struensee added, that he must confess that, if he had had children of his own, he would not have reared them in any other way.

"He said everything that could be urged in his favour, but Count Brandt has too much laid to his charge."

This information caused Struensee greater emotion than the news of his own fate. But he soon regained his composure, and added a few words about a petition to the king for mercy, although he at the same time expressed his conviction, that even this last step would meet with no success.

When Struensee and Münter were left alone again, the man who was now Death's own assured his friend that his impending punishment did not terrify him. He had thought that he might be broken on the wheel, and was already considering whether he could suffer this kind of death with patience.

"If I have deserved such a death," he then added,[73] "my infamy would not be removed, though those disgraceful circumstances were not annexed to it. And if I had not deserved it, which I cannot assert, sensible people would do me justice, and I should gain in point of honour. And upon the whole, what is honour or infamy in this world to me? My judges had the law before them, and therefore they could not decide otherwise. I confess my crime is great: I have violated the majesty of the king. Many things I might not have done if I had been sufficiently acquainted with the law,—But why did I neglect it?"

These words, uttered by Struensee so shortly before his death, seemed to reveal a doubt of his perfect innocence. Perhaps, however, this uncertainty was rather produced by his conversion to the Christian religion, by the recollection of past errors, and by the effect of a long and painful imprisonment; while the imminent and awful close of his life might also have produced impressions on him which made him fancy himself guiltier than he really was. Or was it the voice of his conscience at the remembrance of the ruin which he had brought on his young queen, which spoke out of his soul, though he dared not clothe it in language?

My readers will remember how much this unhappy man was affected by a letter which he received from his father, at the time when he still maintained his irreligious principles. He now delivered to Dr. Münter a letter for his parents, leaving him the option whether he would send it at once, or after the execu[74]tion. Münter chose the latter course, as he knew Struensee's death was very near at hand, and he wished to save them the anxiety of expecting the melancholy news of it. The letter was to the following effect:—

Brandt also received from his defender, Bang, a copy of the sentence passed on him, and, like Struensee,[75] sent in a petition for mercy. It was reported that he would be pardoned. For Owe Guldberg, the most influential of the judges at Christiansborg Palace, had thrown himself at the feet of Queen Juliana Maria, who now held the authority in her hands, and implored a mitigation of the punishment. But the queen dowager absolutely refused to listen to him, not even when Guldberg earnestly implored that at least Brandt's life might be saved. Crushed by such harshness, and bitterly undeceived as to the extent of his influence, he returned to his apartments, threw himself on the bed, refused to take food, and passed several days in apathetic reflection.

Brandt's mother and brother asked permission to come to court to implore the king's clemency, and, being unable to obtain it, they wrote to the queen dowager and to Prince Frederick. The answers they received were full of compliments, but gave them no hope. It was said, however, that in the council, when the question of confirming the sentence was discussed, there were voices for mercy; but that Counts von Rantzau and Von der Osten absolutely opposed any being shown. The honour of the king should have demanded that Brandt's life should be spared, in order to conceal from the world what had passed between them, but the king had an extreme repugnance to this; the mere name of the ex-favourite made him tremble and turn pale. He positively declared that he would not save Brandt unless Struensee were also[76] spared, and the ministry considered it necessary to immolate one of the victims, so as not to let the other escape. The two sentences were consequently confirmed without the slightest display of clemency.

Count von Rantzau more particularly displayed a sustained hardness and fearful blackness of soul. He, doubtless, believed that by closing all access to clemency, by forcing to the scaffold two intimate friends, one of whom had been his benefactor, he should purge himself of the suspicion of complicity, and that by sheer hypocrisy he should cause his connection with the condemned men to be forgotten. At any other time, instead of sitting in the council and determining the fate of the culprits, he would have himself been the object of a severe sentence; instead of being spared for having betrayed the favourites, there would have been an additional charge against him, that of anticipating the royal commands to arrest them; hence, being well aware that, in spite of his dignities, he was marked, both as a restless and unbelieving man, he was more assiduous than any one in his attendance at the court chapel, and joined in singing hymns, which must have possessed all the charm of novelty for him.[17]

How little feeling that most miserable of monarchs, Christian, really had in the whole matter, is seen by a perusal of the Danish journals at the time. The amusements of the court offer a most revolting exhibition of apathy and want of sympathy.

On April 23, there was a masked ball, en domino, at which the king, the queen dowager, and their suite were present; on the 24th, instead of the play, a concert at the Danish theatre, where the royal family were present; on the 25th, the sentence on Counts Struensee and Brandt was pronounced in open court; in the evening, the opera of Adrien en Syrie was performed. The small-pox continuing its ravages, on the 26th, Sunday, profane amusements were interdicted by the new government. On the 27th, the king dined with his court at Charlottenlund, and returned to town at 7 P.M.; he signed the sentences, and proceeded to the Italian Opera. On the 28th, the day of the execution, there was a grand concert at court. Well may a writer in the Annales Belgiques for May, 1772, remark:—

"If the king has unfortunately reached such a stage of unfeelingness, what praise does not Caroline Matilda deserve for having succeeded in captivating him so greatly that up to the present it was not even suspected that he possessed such a disposition?"

In the meanwhile, Dr. Münter had informed Struensee, on April 26th, of the promulgation of the sentences, and that they would be carried into effect two days after. Struensee listened to him patiently, and then remarked, as to the circumstances which were to throw infamy upon his death—

"I am far above all this, and I hope my friend Brandt may be the same. Here in this world—since I am on the point of leaving it—neither honour nor[78] infamy can affect me any more. It is equally the same to me after death, whether my body putrifies under ground or in the open air; whether it serves to feed the worms or the birds. God will know very well how to preserve those particles of my body which, on the day of resurrection, are to constitute my future glorified body. It is not my all which is to be laid on the wheel. Thank God! I know now very well that this dust is not my whole being."

After this they conversed quietly about various matters concerning Struensee's administration. The decision whether his government had been politically bad he left to posterity, and many times repeated his assurance that he was not conscious of any wrong intentions. When Dr. Münter left him, Struensee handed him the following letter for Frau von Berkentin at Pinneberg. This was the patroness who, as chief gouvernante to the prince royal, had recommended Struensee as physician in ordinary for the king's foreign tour:—

On the following day, April 27, Struensee also referred to his administration, and assured Münter again, most sacredly, that he had not falsified the accounts about the presents made by the king to him and Brandt. Münter's remarks on this subject are worthy quotation:—

"It is difficult to dismiss every suspicion on this head against Struensee; and if he were guilty, of how little value would be his conversion! It has made me uneasy, frequently, and even now, still, after his death. All manner of appearances, his own confession that he could not free himself from all suspicion, and many other evidences, are against him. However, on the other side, it makes me easy that he confessed greater and more punishable crimes without constraint, but[80] denied this with a firmness, calmness of mind and confidence, which, inexplicable as the matter remains, makes it difficult to believe him guilty."

Struensee then handed to Münter the following letter to Chamberlain Christian Brandt, which he desired him to get delivered:—

To Münter, Struensee declared that Brandt's sentence of death could not be signed with a good conscience; for, he said, he could not regard the action for which his friend's life was forfeited as a crime, and he, Struensee, did not repent having taken part in it. On the other hand, he reproached Brandt, because in his intercourse with the king he neglected the reverence he owed him, which had also been the reason why he attracted the king's displeasure on himself.

Of all the letters written by Struensee, the one he addressed to Count von Rantzau is assuredly the most remarkable. Instead of the reproaches with which he might have justly overwhelmed him, he wrote in the following forgiving spirit:[18]—

Struensee did not wish to take a personal farewell of his brother, Justiz-rath Struensee, because he was afraid that this might produce a scene which would be too affecting for both of them. He therefore begged Münter to do so for him. He entreated his brother's pardon for drawing him into his misfortunes, but hoped and was certain that his affairs would turn out well. He also assured him that he was leaving the world with true brotherly affection for him. He also wished his brother to be told of the sentiments in which he died. This commission Dr. Münter discharged on the same evening, and carried back the answer of the much afflicted brother.

Brandt also received on April 27, from his chaplain, Dean Hee, the news of the confirmation of his sentence and the day of execution, which he heard unconcerned, and said that he readily submitted to the will of God.

A report had been spread that Brandt had spoken recklessly while in prison, and sung merry songs. Hence the dean made a proposition to him, which he left to him to accept or not, that he should make a declaration of what his real sentiments were, in the presence of witnesses. He readily complied with the[84] proposal, and Hee went to the commandant, who came with four officers, in whose presence Brandt declared that he was ready to die, and was not afraid of it; he likewise confessed before the omniscient God, that he had without hypocrisy sought for God's mercy; he likewise confessed, as he had done before, that he had acted very inconsiderately, that his levity had been very great, and that he, on this account, acknowledged God's mercy in suffering him to die, lest he should be drawn away again from religion. He said, he knew very well that the same levity of temper had induced him, in the beginning of his imprisonment, to talk in a manner he was now ashamed of, though he was sure in his conscience that many untruths were invented, and propagated among the people, but he forgave those who had been guilty of such a thing. Now, he wished that the gentlemen present would bear testimony to what he should say. He acknowledged himself a great sinner before God: a sinner who had gone astray, but was brought back by Christ. He then begged the commandant and the other officers to forgive him, if, by his levity, he had offended any one of them, and wished that God's mercy in Christ might always attend them as the greatest blessing. He said all this with such a readiness, and in such moving terms, that all who were present were affected by it, and every one of them wished that God would preserve him in this situation of mind to the last.

In the meanwhile, the town council, the police, and[85] military authorities, were making preparations for the execution. Copenhagen is surrounded on the land side, next the three suburbs, by three large fields bordered by neat allées, which are used as exercising grounds for the garrison, and for public festivities. On the easternmost of these fields, situated on the Sound, a scaffold, 8 yards long and broad, and 27 feet in height, was erected; and on the gallows hill, a mile distant, and situated in the western suburb, two poles were planted, both of which were surrounded by four wheel-posts. It took some trouble to complete this job, because no artisans consented to undertake it. It was not until other workmen were persuaded that a pleasure-house was to be built on the field that the scaffold was completed. No wheelwright was willing either to supply the wheels; so that the eight carriage wheels required had to be begged from friends of the court party.

When dawn broke on the 28th of April, 1772, a day which inflicted an eternal stain on the history of Denmark, the troops, consisting of 4,400 sailors belonging to the vessels in ordinary, and armed with pikes, 1,200 infantry, 300 dragoons, and, strange to say, the corps of military cadets, marched through the gates, in order to form a large circle round the stage of blood on the Osterfeld, keep back the eager countless mob, and be ready for any eventualities. General von Eickstedt, town commandant, had the supreme command of all the troops.

The two gates of the citadel were also kept shut till[86] the departure of the criminals; and the posts had been doubled in order to keep off the pressure of the crowd, who also congregated eagerly here.

The two clergymen went at an early hour to the condemned men, and found them both calm and easy in mind. When Münter entered, Struensee was fully dressed, and lying on a couch. He was reading Schlegel's sermons on Christ's Passion, and a religious conversation began between the two, during which Münter looked very often toward the cell door with a fearful expectation; but the count not once.

At length the officer on duty came in and requested Münter to step into the coach, and precede Struensee to the place of execution. Münter was greatly moved, but Struensee, as if it did not concern himself the least, comforted him by saying:—

"Make yourself easy, my dear friend, by considering the happiness I am going to enter into, and with the consciousness that God has made you a means for procuring it for me."

Soon after, the two delinquents were requested to get into their coaches, Brandt going on first. The latter, after praying fervently, had had his chains, which were fixed in the wall, taken off, and he put on the clothes in which he intended to appear on the scaffold. He then drank a dish of coffee and ate something, walking up and down the room, which he had not been able to do before. As often as Dr. Hee asked him how he found himself, he said that he was not afraid of[87] dying. He afterwards asked Hee whether he had seen anybody executed before, and how far he was to lay his body bare for the execution.

Struensee was dressed in a blue cut velvet coat with silver buttons; Brandt in a green court dress richly embroidered with gold, and both had costly fur pelisses thrown over them, but, as if in mockery, still had a chain on their hand and foot. This gay attire had been given them in order to remind the populace that the dizzy fall from the greatest power to the scaffold was the just punishment of their unparalleled crimes. By the side of each of the prisoners sat an officer, and opposite to them two sergeants. The two coaches were surrounded by 200 infantry soldiers with fixed bayonets, and an equal number of dragoons with drawn sabres. The procession was opened by a third coach, in which the Fiscal General and the king's bailiff were seated, and, facing them, the latter's deputy, holding two tin shields, on which the arms of the two counts were painted.

Half-past eight was striking from the tower of the citadel when the three coaches began their progress to the scaffold, where they were expected by upwards of 30,000 persons.

When the procession reached the spot, the Fiscal General and the king's bailiff with his assistant first mounted the scaffold, on which the executioner and his aids were awaiting their victims. They were followed by Brandt; his features were so unchanged, and[88] his bearing was so perfectly calm, that it was generally supposed that a hope of mercy was aroused in his mind at this supreme moment. Dean Hee mounted the scaffold stairs immediately after him, and it was not till they reached the top that the prisoner's fetters were removed. Even here he assured Hee that his mind was composed, and that he was not afraid of death. The dean, however, continued to encourage him, and concluded with the words:—

The king's bailiff, Etats-rath Ortwed, now read the sentence; and when he had finished, the executioner advanced to receive the count's coat of arms. He asked Brandt whether it was his escutcheon, to which the other replied by a nod; he then swung it in the air, and broke it with the words:—

After the clergyman had read Brandt those things from the ritual which are usual on such occasions, Hee asked him whether, in addition to his other sins, he repented of his great crime of high treason? Brandt answered in the affirmative, and then added:—

"I pray God, the king, and the country, for forgiveness, and only wish that God may bless the king and the whole land for the sake of Christ's blood."

After these words the clergyman gave him the benediction, and, taking him by the hand, delivered him over to justice. When the executioner approached to assist Brandt in undressing, the latter said to him with firmness, though not without mildness, "Stand off, and do not presume to touch me!" He quickly let his pelisse fall, took off his hat, and himself removed his coat and waistcoat. After previously feeling in all the pockets, which he doubtless did out of habit, he also began to bare the right arm, from which the hand was to be cut off, but the executioner now advanced, and helped him to bare the whole arm as well as his neck.[19] After this, Brandt knelt down, and laid his head on one block and his hand on another. When the victim had thus offered himself for the execution of the sentence, the clergyman reminded him of the posture of the Saviour in the garden of Gethsemane, with his face on the ground, to which Brandt, lying on the block, replied in a loud voice:—

Hee stepped back, and while he was saying, "O Christ, in Thee I live, in Thee I die! Oh! thou Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, be merciful!" the execution was over. Brandt did not die as a hypocrite, but at the same time displayed no defiance.

Immediately after, the executioner's aids advanced, stripped the body, and then divided it into four quarters with an axe. Each quarter was let down[90] separately by a rope into a cart standing below, and the vessels with the entrails were also placed in it. Lastly, the head was held up, shown to the spectators, and then let down into the cart, together with the hand. After which the scaffold was strown with fresh sand, in readiness for Struensee.[20]

During this awful tragedy Struensee sat in his coach, which was standing near the scaffold. When Brandt went up, Münter ordered the coach to be turned in such a way that they might not witness Brandt's execution. But Struensee's eyes had already found his unfortunate friend, and hence he said:—

"Christ prayed for his murderers even on the cross. May I rely upon your leaving the world with the same sentiments of love toward those whom you might have reason to think your enemies?"

"In the first place," Struensee replied, "I hope that there is no one who has a personal hatred against me; but that those who have promoted my misfortunes, have done it with the intention of doing good. Secondly, I look upon myself already as a citizen of another world, and consider that I am obliged to entertain sentiments conformable with this dignity; and I am sure that if I were to see those who might perhaps[91] be my enemies here in the bliss of that world which I hope to enter into, it would give me the highest satisfaction. I pray to God that if my enemies hereafter repent of their behaviour toward me, this repentance may induce them to look out for that salvation which I confidently promise myself through the mercy of God."

Struensee, during this conversation, suffered no other change than that he appeared very pale, and thinking and speaking evidently cost him more trouble than they had done earlier in the morning. Still he retained perfect composure, and saluted some of those around the coach by raising his hat, or by friendly glances. From the motion of the spectators, Dr. Münter, though he could not see the scaffold, guessed that Struensee's turn to ascend it had arrived, and that, with Brandt's death, all hope of a pardon had disappeared.

When summoned by name, Struensee stepped out of the coach, and went, led by Münter, with dignity though humbly, through the ranks of favoured spectators, and bowed to them also. With difficulty he ascended the fifteen steps leading to the scaffold. When they reached the top, Münter spoke very concisely, and in a low voice, upon the words, "He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." After this the sentence of the Commission of Inquiry and the royal confirmation were read to Struensee, and the king's own signature was shown him. Then came the breaking of the coat of arms,[92] after which Struensee's chains were taken off. The clergyman once again went up to Struensee, and asked him various questions.

"Are you very truly sorry for all those actions by which you have offended God and man?"

"You know my late sentiments on this point," Struensee replied, "and I assure you they are this very moment just the same."

"Do you trust in the redemption of Christ as the only ground of your being pardoned before God?"

"I hope nobody hates me personally; and as for the rest, you know my sentiments on this head; they are the same as I told you before."

Doctor Münter then laid his hand upon Struensee's head, and said with deep emotion, before he delivered him up to justice:—

Struensee then took off his fur pelisse, removed his hat, and tried to undress himself, but his strength failed him in doing so, and he was obliged to ask the executioner's help. After this he produced a white handkerchief to bind his eyes with, but the executioner said that it was not necessary, and then assisted him in removing his shirt.

Struensee then walked with hesitating steps the few yards leading to the block, which still reeked with the blood of his dearest friend; a stronger mind than Struensee ever possessed might have been unhinged by the dreadful scene before his eyes. He knelt down, but had great difficulty in placing himself in the proper position. As the executioner raised the axe to cut off his right hand, Münter began slowly pronouncing the words:—

The first blow fell, and with it, Struensee was attacked by violent convulsions, the result of which was, that the second blow intended to behead the poor wretch, failed. He sprang up convulsively, but the assistant seized him by the hair, and pulled him down on the block by force; even when the head was removed, a portion of the chin was left behind.

The same horrors were committed on his poor corpse as on Brandt's, but I have no heart to dwell on them: let us rather agree with the poet in saying,

The mangled remains, after they had been thrown into the cart, were conveyed all through the city to the field at the other extremity, where they were to be[94] left to moulder or be devoured by the fowls of the air. For each, four stout balks were, at equal distances, driven into the earth; a taller pole was fixed in the centre; the entrails, &c., were buried in a hole dug at the foot of the central pole; on the top the head was fixed, the pole being forced up inside the skull, through which a spike was driven to make it fast; the hand was nailed on a piece of board, placed transversely below the head; a cart wheel was fixed horizontally on the top of each of the four posts or pillars, on which a quarter of the body was exposed, made fast to the wheel by iron chains.

The countless crowd, whose curiosity was now fully satisfied, returned to the city, shaken by the scenes they had witnessed, and the deep impression produced by the awful drama could be noticed for a long time. Convicts had to be employed on the next day in removing the scaffold, as no honest man would have a hand in it; but Gallows Hill preserved its decorations for some years, and even in 1775, Mr. Coxe saw Struensee's and Brandt's skulls and bones there.[21] All this was done to satiate the vengeance of the queen dowager. With a telescope in her hand, Juliana Maria had witnessed the whole execution from the tower of the Christiansborg, and when the turn arrived for the special object of her hatred, Struensee, she rubbed[95] her hands joyously, and exclaimed, "Now comes the fat one."[22]

But the queen did not neglect to observe decorum even in this affair, and hence, soon after the execution, sent for Dr. Münter, in order to hear all the details of the judicial murder from this immediate witness of the fearful scene. When he had ended his report, the queen burst into tears; but, as our Danish authority remarks, "it is notorious that a crocodile can weep." Then she said to Münter—

"I feel sorry for the unhappy man. I have examined myself whether in all I have done against him I have acted through any feeling of personal enmity; but my conscience acquits me of it."

After this, the queen dowager gave Dr. Münter a snuff-box of rock crystal, while a similar gift in porcelain was forwarded to Dean Hee.[23]

But the historian, Suhm, who was attached to the court, and was one of the most zealous enemies of Struensee, tells us how far we are justified in believing[96] the queen dowager's statement. As the queen occupied the upper floor of Christiansborg Palace, whence a view of the Gallows Hill was obtained, Chamberlain Suhm asked her some years later, why her Majesty, who had so many splendid palaces at her service, inhabited these unpretending rooms, and received the answer:—

"And yet these rooms are dearer to me than all my most splendid apartments; for from these windows I saw my bitterest foe exposed on the wheel."

Such was the end of a man whose miserable story is indubitably one of the most romantic episodes of his century; and it only required a Danish Walter Scott, in order to make of it an historical romance of the first class. For such a work the matter is fully sufficient. But for the same reason all efforts must fail to convert Struensee into the hero of a tragedy. Many poets, some of them in the first flight, have undertaken this ungrateful task, but have not attained any success worth mentioning. The reason can easily be found. Struensee was no hero; not even an original: he possessed no distinct character, but was merely a type of his age, and in spite of his undeniable talents, he was an ordinary adventurer after all. Fortune is as much the touchstone of minds as misfortune is. It subjected this man to a trial, and he came out of it badly. Arrogant and unbridled in fortune, he proved himself in misfortune despondent, cowardly, and even worthless. The fortune which he at first did not turn to a bad use, brought a[97] king's sceptre into his hand, and he allowed it to be shamefully torn from him by people far inferior to him in intellect. A queen, young and beautiful as a May morning, supported him, and he betrayed her. He had felt a pride in being an avowed free-thinker, and he died with wailing and gnashing of teeth, as a penitent sinner. No, he was not a tragic hero. Even the genius of a Shakspere would have failed in rendering him one.

It is a fact worthy of attention that Struensee possessed none of the qualities which generally presuppose success at court. He was not an amiable man, in the conventional sense of the term. The English envoy, Gunning, who was not ill-disposed toward him, expressly stated, in a despatch of April, 1770, that Struensee did not at all display in his conversation the liveliness and pleasantry by which other men pave the way to fortune. "His mode of behaving and expressing himself is dry and even unpleasant, so that it was a subject of general surprise how he contrived to acquire such unbounded influence over the king and queen." Further, the envoy allows the favourite "no inconsiderable acquirements," but denies him all statesman-like ability and political tact. At the same time he was deficient in sufficient insight into Danish affairs. He was tolerably free from vanity, but not from an immoderate self-confidence, which not unfrequently degenerated into "impudence." The envoy, however, supplies us with the key to the enigma of Struensee's sudden elevation, when he mentions that he was "bold[98] and enterprising," and such a man is sure to make his way among women.[24]

Still, in spite of Struensee's deficiency and all his mistakes, so much justice must be done him as to allow that he desired the welfare of the state. He originally possessed a not ignoble mind, which was lowered and degraded by his fabulous elevation and sudden fall. Being formed of much softer and more worthless stuff than the metal out of which great, or even second-rate statesmen are composed, he could not endure either fortune or misfortune. An idealist, trained in the school of enlightened despotism, he did not understand that a nation must be raised from the bottom to the top. This was the mistake of the age. The reasons of state of a Frederick the Great or a Joseph II. were, after all, only an improvement of the breed. We have all due respect for those enlightened despots who have so far freed themselves from the swaddling-clothes of the Byzantine ideas about the divine right of kings, as to wish themselves to be merely regarded as the first servants of the state; but, at the same time, we are inclined to say with old Wieland, "May Heaven protect us from the luck of being obliged to live under the sceptre or stick of such first servants of the state." Struensee acted on the principle that, in order to make nations progress, nothing further was required than to realise by edicts the principles of the[99] French philosophers and German illuminati. After the fashion of many other world-betterers of the age, he did not know or reflect that it is far more difficult to lead the unjudging masses to what is good, than to what is bad; that the most absurd prejudices of the plebs must be humoured far more than the noblest human privileges; that the coarse diplomacy of pot-house demagogues is sufficient to make the ignorant mob throw away the diamonds of truth and eagerly clutch at the strass of falsehood and absurdity; and that, lastly, the people in all times are most willing, at the desire of their enemies, to hate, persecute, stone, and crucify their friends.

It is possible, even probable, that, if Struensee had held the power longer, he would have passed from the experimentalising stage to really beneficial results. The beginning of his display of power was not so bad. Denmark had long sighed under the brutal dictatorship which the envoys of Russia exercised. Struensee broke this yoke, and did it so cleverly, that the ambitious czarina in Petersburg was obliged to give way, whether she liked it or not. The management of the foreign policy by Struensee least of all deserves blame, because it was based on the sensible principle that Denmark must live in peace and amity with all states, but not be subject to any one of them. The same praise cannot be afforded to Struensee's home administration. The tendency generally was good and reasonable here, but the execution left much, very[100] much, to be desired. We find everywhere hasty attempts, but no thorough carrying through. A despotic theorising, which was followed by no energetic practice, and the most correct designs destroyed and confused by the interference of personal interests, sympathies, and antipathies, characterised the administration.

Struensee's great fault was that he did not, and would not, understand that in statesman-like calculations, not abstract ideas but men are the figures employed in reckoning—men with all their weaknesses, follies, prejudices, and passions. Through mistaking this great fact, he contrived to embitter all classes of the nation. He offended the nobles without winning the peasants; he made the officers, soldiers, and sailors his enemies, without making the citizens his friends. And he did this among a people whose education was behindhand, and to whom he was an object of hatred, from the fact of his being a foreigner.

After his fall, which every one but himself had foreseen—and we may fairly say that he signed his own death-warrant by the maniacal cabinet decree which placed all the authority in his hands—Struensee behaved like a miserable coward and traitor. It has been said that his judges, or, more correctly, executioners, terrified the ruined man by a menace of the torture, and, at the same time, deluded him by the idea that his sole chance of salvation was in compromising Caroline Matilda most deeply. But, for all this, a man would never do, and only a weakling and coward would do what he did, when he confessed,[101] on February 21, that he had been the queen's lover. From this moment he could only lay claim to a feeling of contempt. It would not even excuse him were it true, as has been alleged, that a pretended confession of Caroline Matilda's guilt was shown him.

Still the means employed to get rid of the favourites were most reprehensible. It is true that the queen dowager and Prince Frederick had a right to feel irritated at having no credit at a court where a Struensee domineered, and that they wished to remove him and his partisans. We can understand that Queen Juliana Maria, who had no experience of business, and Prince Frederick, who had scarce emerged from boyhood, should not suspect the extremities to which Guldberg's faction would lead them; and it may be true that it was owing to their generosity that the children of Caroline Matilda were not deprived of their rights. Nor can we positively condemn Guldberg for wishing to tear from Struensee powers which Struensee had torn from others. Perhaps Guldberg possessed more capacity, or a better claim to hold the power than he. But, as to the means employed in gaining the object, we cannot help agreeing with Falckenskjold when he says:

"To make Struensee perish in order to seize on his office, was not this purchasing it very dearly? and especially to add the punishment of the unfortunate Brandt to that of Struensee, and to assail the liberties and fortunes of so many persons who were innocent of the ambition of these two men. And, in order to give[102] a legal appearance to these proscriptions, they do not hesitate to abuse whatever is most sacred in human laws; they convert private intrigues into judicial proceedings; they employ calumnious libels as authentic documents and sentences; they raise the veil and expose to the public the domestic secrets of the king's house! They do not fear violently to break the happy union of the king with his consort; to render doubtful the rights of the issue of that union, by compromising the future tranquillity of the state; and, lastly, to cast on a young queen the affront of a mortal stain, and to condemn her to expire in a lengthened agony!

"Was the post of a principal minister of the King of Denmark so important, or desirable at such a price?"

CHAPTER IV.
THE HIGH COMMISSION.

After the execution of the two counts, the turn came for the other ten prisoners of state to be disposed of. In order to justify in the sight of Europe the sanguinary treatment of the two principal victims, these prisoners must also appear in the light of state criminals, although no actual offence could be proved against a single one of them. Although the grounds for their sentences are of the most paltry description, it is easy to discover in them that, after the removal of their real enemies, the dominant faction wished to affect a display of mercy, probably through fear of public opinion, which was beginning to be loudly expressed[104] both at home and abroad, about the cruel fate of the two counts.

The court believed it necessary to lay before the nation in print the sentences of Counts Struensee and Brandt, and with them a list of the crimes for which they were tried. This measure, however, had the contrary effect to what was expected. Nothing was seen in this sentence but a desire to prove the counts guilty, and a long series of absurd conclusions, by which it was sought to attain this object: the sentence on Count Brandt, more especially, revolted every one, and the general dissatisfaction was unmistakable.[25] Hence, although it was proposed in the council to lop off one or two more heads, one of the judges, Kofod Ancher, thought it was time to say to the king, as was said to Augustus, siste carnifex. It was therefore decided that the only victim of judicial vengeance should be Falckenskjold, who had dared to be an honest admirer of Struensee, and was really at the same time an enlightened statesman and politician.

On April 21 a royal command was sent to the commissioners to hand in an accurate representation of the offences of all the other persons arrested on January 17, and more especially those who had been guilty of minor crimes. This order was executed in a "most humble" report, dated May 5. The poor wretches had been allowed to pass all this time in prison, suffering from the most painful uncertainty.

Frau von Gähler was placed at the head of the list as the least guilty sinner. She had attracted suspicion—so it was stated in the report—by her intercourse with Struensee, by an uninterrupted correspondence during the Holstein progress with her husband in Copenhagen, by her being selected to be constantly in attendance on the queen, by her and her husband's decoration with the queen's Order of Matilda; and lastly, by the rumour that important papers had been entrusted to her care. As, however, the closest investigation had not produced a tittle of proof against her, and her correspondence with her husband proved to be of the most innocent nature, while other ladies who stood under no suspicion had enjoyed equal favour at court, the commission had discovered nothing that could be brought as a charge against her.

A similar declaration was issued by the commission in the matter of Lieutenant-Colonel von Hesselberg. This officer who—on account of the acquirements he had gained on foreign service, and the intelligence displayed by him while holding an appointment at the Academy of Military Cadets, had been proposed by Falckenskjold as lieutenant-colonel of the king's regiment, because the latter wished to have an efficient representative, while he went on diplomatic business to Russia—had received orders to have an eye on Struensee's youngest brother, who was appointed to his regiment. Such was the state crime brought against this man of honour by the exalted commissioners.

As an example of the condition of the Danish army at that day, the circumstances connected with Hesselberg's appointment will be perused with interest. When Falckenskjold, shortly after his arrival from Russia, was appointed colonel of the king's regiment, the quartermaster delivered to him an account of the state of the regimental chest, according to which there ought to be 25,000 dollars in it. Falckenskjold replied, that he would take over the chest after a committee of inquiry had sat. The quartermaster objected that this was displaying an unusual suspicion, but Falckenskjold stuck to his text, and lo and behold! there were but 95 dollars in the chest. On his threatening to report the affair, 5,000 dollars were produced, and the quartermaster bolted. A close investigation proved that the missing sum had been stolen by frauds, in which the officers were mixed up, and Falckenskjold was at last obliged to let the matter drop, but for this very reason selected Hesselberg, in whom he could trust, as his second in command.

The third ill-used man, against whom the commission could not produce a scintilla of evidence either, was Rear-Admiral Hansen. He had first formed Struensee's acquaintance when he received orders to join the Algerine Committee, and afterwards assumed a special command in the expedition. He had never spoken on any matters but those connected with the navy to Struensee, and yet was kept for months in prison as a dangerous criminal.

Equally little could be alleged against Councillor of Legation Sturtz. His connection with Struensee had never possessed an intimate character, which was proved by the fact, that he had remained attached to Bernstorff. The sole reason for his lengthened residence at Hirschholm, in the summer of 1771, was, that he, as a clever amateur in portrait-painting, had received a commission to take the likeness of the queen and prince royal, and the diamond ring presented to him by the queen for his bride, was only an acknowledgment given him for these works of art, which are still in existence, and said to be excellent likenesses. Nor was anything in the slightest degree incriminating found among his papers.

Lieutenant Aboe, of the navy, was the next prisoner declared to be innocent. When a cadet he had formed the acquaintance of Brandt, and became intimate with him, partly on account of the pecuniary assistance the latter gave him, partly to be recommended to Chamberlain Struensee, through whose application he obtained the interim post of master of the crews at the navy docks, and of adjutant to the Algerine expedition. In the latter capacity he frequently waited on Struensee, and handed in some pretended ameliorations in the administration of the navy, which, however, only proved his ignorance. He had no further connection with Struensee, and was, indeed, offended with the cabinet minister, because the latter did not sufficiently recognise his merits.

The examination had thus proved that five innocent persons had been kept in a state of torturing uncertainty as to their fate, and in cruel imprisonment for four months and a half, while their relatives were exposed to public contumely.

Of Etats-rath Willebrandt it was alleged that he had been so simple and bold as to wish to reform the Admiralty College, without having gained a proper insight of the administration of the navy, much less of the difference in the business of the department during peace and war, as he had solely obeyed the order given him to establish the Admiralty College after the pattern of that of the Generalty. The commissioners, it is true, declared that it was not within their competence to judge the value of a plan which in any case had been approved by his Majesty, and for this reason did not dare to express dissatisfaction with it. Still they thought themselves at liberty to state that which the result proved, that a portion of the plan, owing to Willebrandt's ignorance, produced irregularity and inconveniences, which could only be prevented by alterations and fresh expenses for the king's treasury. After this, an allusion was made to the affair with the enrolled sailors, who marched on Hirschholm in 1771. Willebrandt's offence, therefore—the report went on to say—consisted in his having undertaken to reform things of which he had no thorough knowledge, and he thus produced scenes which might easily have had dangerous consequences. It was not mentioned[109] in the report, however, that the king had given him this order, that Count Haxthausen took part in it, and that both, when they drew up the plan, expressly requested that the new scheme might be previously examined by professional men.

Professor Berger, the physician in ordinary, also appeared to the commission to have committed an offence. It was true that all the medicines found in his house proved to be innocuous; there was no proof that the steel cure attempted on his Majesty was improper; in the matter of the rearing of the crown prince he had not agreed in all points with Struensee, but rather had been the cause that warmer clothing and better food were granted his royal highness toward the close: it was also true that he expressed his anger at Struensee having acquired a power which he considered prejudicial to the nation; but he had given serious offence by concurring with Struensee, and giving his advice and propositions in reforms of which he probably knew nothing, more especially in things which did not concern his trade as physician, or the res literariæ generally. As a proof of this, it was alleged that he had proposed some persons to fill the places of the dismissed members of the magistracy, and that Struensee requested him to mention a person who would be suitable for the chief post in the navy yards. Still the commission would not venture to judge of the use or disadvantage of such propositions, as the papers found on the accused and the other pri[110]soners, on which their argument must be founded, contained no information about them.

This was everything that could be brought against a professional man, who, in spite of his zealous attention to the king's health, and his well-earned reputation, was dragged to the fortress, and, like a murderer, prohibited the use of knife and fork, and was not allowed to shave himself, or sleep on his own mattress.

If the conduct of the commission had hitherto retained a varnish of justice, the royal resolution, minuted by Councillor of Conference Schumacher, and issued on May 18, was a strange proof of tyranny, which smote truth on the face with open falsehoods. For it was stated in this resolution, that the persons who had been guilty of the "smallest crimes" should be punished in the following way:—

Frau von Gähler would be set at liberty, but must refrain from appearing at court so long as her husband's affair was not concluded.

Rear-Admiral Hansen and Lieutenant Aboe would be discharged from arrest, and report themselves to the Admiralty College, where they would learn the king's commands with respect to them.

Legations-rath Sturtz would also be released from arrest, and ordered to proceed to Holstein. He would retain his pension of 500 dollars, which had been granted him by the royal resolution of January 26, but must expend it away from the court.

Etats-rath Willebrandt, after being discharged, would proceed to one of the small towns in Seeland, where an annual pension of 300 dollars would be paid him.

Professor Berger, lastly, after being set at liberty, would go to Aalborg, in northern Jütland, where a pension of 300 dollars would be paid him, until a post of provincial surgeon became vacant in Jütland.

These decisions the commissioners made known to the persons concerned with the solemn warning that, after the king had pardoned them this time, through special mercy, for their incautious, thoughtless, and criminal conduct, they must be very careful not to give rise to greater suspicion by word or writing, as, in that case, they would be subjected to a further examination, and might expect the king's most serious displeasure.

The sovereign lord over the life and death of his subjects was consequently of a different opinion from the commissioners, who had found the accused guilty of no offence. But it was considered desirable to get rid of those persons most hated, and, in order to convict them, it was requisite to accuse them of offences at the expense of truth.

Lieutenant-Colonel von Hesselberg, who was referred to the Commissariat College, learnt there that the king had appointed him Commander of the 2nd National Battalion of Schleswig-Holstein. This distinguished officer afterwards became colonel of an infantry regiment[112] in Norway, where he died in 1808, a lieutenant-general, and commandant of the fortress of Bergenhuus.

Rear-Admiral Hansen was informed by the Admiralty that he had forfeited his post as deputy of the latter college, but would continue to serve the state. He died a few years after the catastrophe.

Lieutenant Aboe, who also learnt his future fate from the Admiralty, received orders to pass two years abroad, but retained his commission and pay. Eventually, he left the service with the rank of captain, set up as a merchant in Copenhagen, failed, made voyages to the East Indies, and died after many hard adventures in Copenhagen.

The three exiles, Legations-rath Sturtz, Etats-rath Willebrandt, and Professor Berger, in obedience to the royal commands, quitted the capital, and proceeded to their several destinations. When Falckenskjold was recalled from Switzerland by the crown prince in 1788, he found Willebrandt still in exile: Berger was a practising physician at Kiel, but Sturtz had died of grief.[26]

The public of Copenhagen were astonished at this mild treatment of persons who had been kept in such close arrest. Much worse had been anticipated. But three state criminals still remained in prison, and what had been spared their associates, who were punished for having been proved innocent, could be done to them.

Lieutenant-General von Gähler, Colonel and Chamberlain von Falckenskjold, and Justiz-rath Struensee,[113] were still awaiting their sentence. But on May 10 an order had been issued to the commission to lay before the king a full report of the crimes of these men, for his Majesty's most gracious consideration and resolution. In obedience with this command, the commission sent in its report on May 30.

With respect to Gähler, it was alleged that he was mixed up both in the Traventhal league and the abolition of the council. It was true that he had denied both, but, on the first point, the letters found at his house contradicted him. As regards the council, he had not, as his duty ordered, sufficiently represented the value of the council in his answers to the questions laid before him for explanation on Sept. 24, 1770, and there were even strong reasons for conjecturing that he proposed and promoted the abolition of the council, because he was Struensee's principal adviser about this time. In the same way he had recommended to his friend Struensee, the abolition of the verbal reports of the colleges. By this, the general had helped to conceal Struensee's audacious conduct from the king, and given him, Struensee, opportunity for filching all the power and authority. It was allowed that Von Gähler, by his propositions, had no intention of sustaining Struensee in his situation and promoting his autocracy. Still, he ought, and must have noticed Struensee's boundless ambition, when he perceived that the latter "wished to apply the practice of his profession to the state, and began by amputating from[114] it so important a limb as the council was." General von Gähler ought the less to have attempted to promote Struensee's views, as he was not adapted either by nature or Providence to regulate or remodel a state. He ought not to have furnished Struensee with projects, all the consequences of which he could not foresee. More especially, he ought not to have advised the suppression of verbal reports, but to have always opposed it. But he appeared to have been possessed by a mania for reformation. As a proof, it might be mentioned that he proposed the reform for which was introduced into Norway by the regulation of January 14, 1771, that lands, after ten years' tenure, should become freehold, which no man of perspicuity could have advised.[27] The commission found a second instance in the reform of the two Chanceries, although the division of business, according to provinces, had had the best results.

Before all, however, Von Gähler wished to remodel the navy. It was quite incredible what tricks he employed to get it into his hands, and the commission reports that the misfortune which befel the Algerine expedition gave Von Gähler the desired opportunity for effecting it. Herr von Gähler's crime, therefore, principally consisted in the fact, that he interfered in everything, and wished to reform all the regulations[115] of the state, without possessing the requisite knowledge and insight, without knowing the advantages or defects of what existed, and without sufficiently pondering over the consequences of his propositions. The commission, however, could find no excuse in the circumstance that Von Gähler's proposed reforms only consisted of ideas and thoughts, whose trial by experiments injured nobody, because most of the affairs in which he interfered in no way concerned him, and the trouble he took in order to obtain a justification for doing so, proved a greater offence; for he had applied to Struensee, a man who was even more ignorant than himself in such things, and blindly followed everything that was proposed to him, especially when such propositions suggested radical changes. The commission, however, would not omit mentioning that the general, since May, 1771, had possessed no special influence over Struensee, because he had joined the opposition against the reduction of the Horse Guards, and besides, he had not commended himself to the cabinet minister, by representing to him how little the power he had appropriated agreed with the royal law. Lastly, the general also displayed firmness when the Foot Guards were disbanded; he had likewise resisted the removal of the two regiments, and in the Generalty represented to Chamberlain von Falckenskjold how improper it was to propose the regiment of the hereditary prince for such a dislocation, without first asking whether this would be agreeable to the prince.

The second of the criminal three was Colonel and Chamberlain von Falckenskjold. According to the opinion of the commission, he was the man who, next to Brandt, stood in the closest intimacy with Struensee. Perhaps, however, Falckenskjold's notorious dislike of the hereditary prince, and his bold and manly behaviour in the presence of the commission, had their share in prejudicing his judges against him, so that they, through personal hatred, behaved in the most unscrupulous way toward a man of honour. Professor Sevel acted as inquisitor, and seemed to find a pleasure in insulting the fallen friend of Struensee by all sorts of cruel questions. We can form an idea of this man's moral value on seeing that Sevel, in his examination, so far forgot what he owed to himself as a judge, as to express his regret that Struensee had not been murdered by the sailors. In their report, the commissioners first made Falckenskjold's intimacy with Struensee a capital offence, and asserted that he had sought to maintain this intimacy so eagerly, because he and Brandt had received the greatest benefactions from Struensee. The latter not only conferred on him offices and honorary posts, but also gave him money out of the royal treasury.

Thus, Falckenskjold, although on May 2, 1771, he had received from the cabinet treasury, in payment of his travelling expenses to Petersburg, the usual sum of 400 dollars, obtained on the 19th of the same month 2,000 dollars more, under the same excuse,[117] from the private treasury, and, after his return, or in a period of three months, a further sum of 3,500 dollars. Of these amounts, Struensee paid him 1,000 dollars under the false allegation that Falckenskjold had spent them on the journey from his private means, while the 2,000 dollars were paid him without the king's cognizance. How he had earned these presents, neither he nor Struensee would have been able to specify, and the assertion that the king had promised to pay Von Falckenskjold's debts by degrees, was only an empty pretext, for the latter had deposited 2,000 dollars with the minister of finances, and therefore could only have had debts to the amount of 400 dollars; and moreover, he never expressed the proper thanks to his Majesty for such large gifts in money. The commission consequently assumed that Struensee desired to acquire Falckenskjold's gratitude, and declared in their report that they had strong grounds for believing that it had been arranged between the couple, that Struensee should be supported under all circumstances, and guarded against any possible surprise, on which Falckenskjold's own fortunes also depended.

In understanding with Struensee, he proposed the abolition of the Chevalier guard, and no other had been more busy than Falckenskjold in setting at work the cabinet order of December 21. If any event occurred, and Struensee believed himself in danger, Falckenskjold was immediately at hand; he had not merely proved[118] his devotedness to Struensee in this way, but also, for the sake of pleasing the minister, had neglected the reverence due to the hereditary prince, and in this had gone so far that he had furnished proofs of it in the presence of the entire public. Two facts had convinced the commission of this daring sentiment of Falckenskjold, which was based on affection for Struensee, namely, the removal of the prince's regiment, and more especially the occurrence on the walls. The latter event, the commission represented as follows:—

In the spring of 1771, the prince was, one day, riding along the walls at the moment when Colonel Falckenskjold was "exercising" his band, composed of hautboists and fifers; the colonel blocked the road, and marched straight upon the prince. Both majors of the regiment called his attention to the fact, that the prince was coming toward them; but Falckenskjold let his men march on. A groom of the prince's now rode up, and requested room for his royal highness to pass. The adjutant reported it to the colonel, and asked whether the band should not leave off playing, and room be made for the prince? but Falckenskjold answered: "No, not even if the good God were to come along Himself." He allowed the band to continue playing, and the prince, in order to pass, was compelled to ride close to the parapet.

Falckenskjold alleged, in his excuse, that he had orders to let the band play in public places, especially when the king came past, and for this reason there would[119] have been an impropriety in his stopping the band on the arrival of the prince. The colonel also observed that, in France, where he had served a long time, an officer was rarely on guard without hearing the sentinel shout, "Aux armes! le bon Dieu arrive!" when the Catholic priests passed with the host, and hence it had grown into a habit to confirm a negative by saying, "No, I would not do it, even if le bon Dieu were to come." The commission, however, considered that this sort of defence contradicted itself, and the colonel ought certainly to have made way for the prince.

Colonel Falckenskjold's crime, consequently, consisted in his having sold himself to Struensee, in having always had an understanding with him, in having advised the reduction of both Guards, in having expressed himself for Struensee's conservation, in having given proofs, on every occasion, how anxious he was that Struensee should escape a surprise, and lastly, in having tried, for the sake of pleasing Struensee, to cause annoyance to his Royal Highness Prince Frederick, and, for this object, having been so audacious as to neglect the respect due to his royal highness. Without dwelling on Falckenskjold's numerous and high services to the king and country, the commission concluded their report with the disgraceful statement, that they could not refrain from seeing in Colonel and Chamberlain von Falckenskjold a foolhardy, detrimental, and the more dangerous man, because he would do anything for money.

The third and last upon whom the commission had to express an opinion was Justiz-rath Struensee. As he had only been released from his chains by special favour, after his brother's execution, it might have been expected that the commission would depict him as a great criminal. It was quite different, however, though through no love of truth and justice on the part of the Inquisition, but in consequence of commands from higher quarters. For Frederick II. of Prussia, who had kept Struensee's place, as professor at Liegnitz, open for him, while he went to try his luck, allowed his minister, Herr von Arnim, whose tutor Struensee had been, to employ his master's name in claiming him.[28]

The report on this prisoner of state, after opening with the statement that Justiz-rath Struensee, though he only possessed a theoretical knowledge of the laws and constitution of Denmark, readily accepted a seat as deputy in the Financial Department, and had the special inspection of the Mint, the Bank, and the course of Exchange—in the hope of obtaining a better knowledge of these branches of the administration by industry and work—acknowledged his irreproachable conduct in the latter respect, and added the remark, that the commission could express this with the greater confidence, as the College of Finances, at their request, had had the matter examined by an authority on the subject. As concerned his functions as deputy of the[121] finances generally, however, the commission must blame Justiz-rath Struensee for a tendency to foolhardy boasting about services which he had not rendered, and arbitrariness in financial matters, as he wrote to a friend that all the others in the Financial College understood nothing, and eventually strove to become Contrôleur Général des Finances.

Although, as regarded his official administration as deputy, there were no positive proofs that he had abused his charge to the injury of the king and country for his own interest, yet there was a tolerably strong presumption that, with the help of his brother and his office, he wished to render all the subjects in Denmark tributary to a few Brandenburg partners, who were to hold the salt and tobacco monopolies, in exchange for profits promised to him and his brother. As regards the salt-farming, the commission allowed that the Justiz-rath had accepted no benefit for himself, but annually paid over to the king the 10,000 dollars intended for himself. In the matter of the tobacco-farming, however, some suspicion clung to him that he, contrary to his brother's advice, accepted the two shares offered him to promote the affair. But although, in spite of all Justiz-rath Struensee's allegations to the contrary, the strongest presumptions existed against him and his integrity, the commissioners felt themselves bound to state that it was not his intention to deprive the Danish tobacco-planters[122] and spinners of their livelihood, as the farming proposition was not carried into effect.[29]

However—thus runs the forced conclusion of the report:—the reports as to the Justiz-rath's former life in Prussia are generally satisfactory, and he is honoured with the distinguished favour of Prince Henry, the brother of Frederick II., who takes a lively interest in him, and considers him incapable of any serious crime. Besides, no traces had been found that the Justiz-rath had intrigued with his brother, and just as few that he had interfered in things that did not concern him. Finally, it could not be alleged as an offence that he received 4,000 dollars from the private treasury, under the title of gratifications, because the first 2,000 were given him with the king's assent, and there was no evidence of his being aware that the other 2,000 were paid him without the cognizance of the king.

After the commissioners, probably with a heavy heart, had closed their report in so mild a way, there followed, on June 12, 1772, a royal resolution, containing his Majesty's "will and commands" respecting the crimes of Lieutenant-General von Gähler, Colonel and Chamberlain von Falckenskjold, and Justiz-rath and Deputy of Finances Struensee. The king had learned from the report of the commissioners that—

Von Gähler generally undertook to remodel and[123] reform the whole arrangements of the state, though he possessed no vocation or knowledge for it; further, that Von Falckenskjold devoted himself entirely to Struensee, was joined with him in a portion of his injurious enterprises, and declared himself in favour of his conservation, and on all occasions furnished proof of this, and displayed a further audacious mode of behaviour; and that, lastly,

Strong presumptions existed against Justiz-rath Struensee and his honest performance of his duties, and that he had not fully consulted with the other persons concerned on matters that came before the College of Finances.

For this reason, the commission would make known to Lieutenant-General von Gähler, that, on account of his thoughtless and improper undertaking, he was dismissed from the king's service, had forfeited the royal favour granted him in the decree of March 26, 1767,[30] and must at once select a spot in the Danish monarchy—Seeland, Fühnen, and Schleswig excepted—where he would permanently reside, and commence his journey to it immediately after leaving the castle. At the same time, the commission would seriously warn him, under threats of the royal displeasure, not to speak or to write about public affairs, as his Majesty, through special clemency, granted him a pension of 500 dollars, and the same to his wife.

The commission would demand of Colonel von Falckenskjold the chamberlain's key and the Russian order, and announce to him that, in consequence of his audacious and detrimental behaviour, he would be conveyed to the fortress of Munkholm, and be imprisoned there for life, half a dollar a day being allowed him from the treasury for his support.

Lastly, the commission would announce to Justiz-rath Struensee that, as he had caused his arrest by his own suspicious behaviour, he was now released from it, but he must leave the country at once, after making a promise, on oath, to reveal neither in writing nor verbally anything he knew about the Danish state affairs, and neither to write nor to speak about the events which had lately occurred in Copenhagen, and he would also begin his journey immediately he was released from the castle.

The fate of the three men was very different. Poor Von Gähler died in exile; Justiz-rath Struensee became Minister of State in Prussia, where he acquired a considerable fortune; he was ennobled in 1789 by the same court of Copenhagen which had his brother's escutcheon broken by the executioner.[31]

As for the third person, he shall tell us his story himself, as it throws such an extraordinary light on the treatment of state prisoners at a period within a hundred years of our own.

On June 12, 1772, Sevel, accompanied by the commandant of the marines and several officers, entered my prison and told me that the king stripped me of all my offices and the military order of Russia, and that I should be transported to a rock and be detained there for the rest of my days.

The crowd of people who entered with Sevel had so deafened me, that a portion of what he said escaped me.

The commission had doubtless made a report. I requested the communication of it—it was refused me. I was promised a copy of my examination, but was unable to obtain it.

Thus I was deprived of every document that might one day be useful in proving my innocence.

On June 26, I was taken on board a merchant vessel the Admiralty had freighted in order to go to Munkholm, my place of destination; a sergeant and four grenadiers of Prince Frederick's regiment, chosen by Eickstedt, were ordered to guard me on board the vessel; two grenadiers with drawn sabres were to watch me and prevent me from speaking.

I have since learned that the sergeant commanding this guard, had a promise of being made lieutenant if he could induce me to take any step which would cause me to be landed at Munkholm in chains. But the skipper had declared to the Admiralty that he would not allow any one but himself to give orders, and that if he required the guard, he would summon it.

This worthy man contrived to make himself respected, and to protect me from ill treatment.

The vessel touched at Christiansund, where a part of its cargo was to be delivered. A custom-house clerk came on board and wanted to speak with me. He wished to insult me, as he had been dismissed in 1763 from his rank of lieutenant; observe, that I had no part in military affairs till 1771. I heard his conversation on this subject with the master, who saved me this annoyance.

The vessel arrived at Munkholm on August 4th, and I parted, not without regret, from this honest skipper, who had so generously protected me.

The fort of Munkholm is situated on a barren rock four hundred paces in circumference, in the middle of the sea, half a league from Trondhjem,[32] toward the [127] 64° of northern latitude. During the winter it is covered with an almost continual fog; the snow hardly remains there eight days in succession; but it freezes there from the beginning of September, and snow falls in the month of June.

The only inhabitants of this place consisted of a detachment of the garrison of Trondhjem, the fort commandant, the officers under him, and the prisoners guarded there.

I was lodged in a low room a little above the ground-floor. Its planks and walls were damp, and the snow fell into it in a fine rain when it thawed. Under the window was a cistern of stagnant water; this lodging, which was also surrounded by the quarters of the soldiers and the prisoners, whose cries stunned me, was assuredly not good; but I was alone in it, had plenty of books, enjoyed the liberty of walking on the ramparts when I pleased, and I felt much less unhappy than in Copenhagen; everything is relative.

I had been warned that the water of the fort was unhealthy, and produced gravel. I asked if I could have any other, and they offered me spirits, the beverage par excellence at this spot, but it was worse for me than bad water.

I could not procure good bread; old bread, partly spoiled, was purchased for the prisoners, which cost 12 per cent. less than the ordinary bread. Though the government had confiscated 8,000 crowns belonging to me, it only allowed me half-a-crown a day for my subsistence.

A battalion of the Delmenhorst regiment was in garrison at Trondhjem; I had served in this regiment, and found at Munkholm soldiers of a company I had formerly commanded. They formed a plan for carrying me off and deserting, but not having been able to communicate their plan to me, they deserted without me, and tried to reach Sweden overland; a detachment, sent in pursuit, caught them and brought them back.

The solders, generally, were in a profound state of wretchedness and demoralisation; the spirits and herrings on which they lived diffused a frightful stench, and I had a difficulty in protecting myself against their uncleanliness.

Everything here depended on Lieut.-General von der Osten, grand bailiff and governor of Trondhjem: he was said to be fond of presents, and did not hesitate to ask them, and I had none to offer him. The commandant of Munkholm, on my arrival, had been a servant and woodcutter to a Copenhagen tradesman. He was first a gunner, then non-commissioned officer in the militia, afterwards a spy, captain of a company of guides, inspector of an hospital, and, lastly, commandant of Munkholm. This man, who was[129] extremely brutal and coarse, was frequently intoxicated; he called himself an atheist, believed himself an engineer, astronomer, tactician, and decided on everything without allowing an answer; he declaimed a great deal, though I could not learn why, against Counts von Bernstorff and St. Germain.

A poor author, a very pious man, who was placed here because he had the simplicity to believe in the freedom of the press, had become, on account of his devotion, odious to the commandant, who used to beat him. He also treated very badly another person who had held a post at court, although the latter made him presents.

I took great care to avoid these gentlemen, and only spoke to them when I could not help it. I do not believe it would have been very difficult for me to escape from this fortress, and, perhaps, Guldberg offered me the means by proposing to me a retreat at Vardohuus,[33] under the polar circle. But, I said to myself, what should I go so far to seek? more injustice and persecution!

What had been done to me gave me a sort of disgust for human society. I had wished to render myself illustrious by arms—the perusal of the lives of[130] celebrated warriors had inflamed my imagination at an early age. I aspired to become one day the rival of the Löwendahls and the Münnichs. My studies, my reflections, were all directed to this object. On emerging from childhood I took up arms and sought combats—I followed this career successfully. I was summoned to aid in the reformation of my country and the amelioration of its condition. I quit with regret the mode of life I had chosen and loved; I arrive, I consecrate my efforts, all my thoughts to this new task, and persecution, exile and contumely are my reward! No, I will not take a single step to return to society; I was never a man of pleasures, though not at all insensible to the enjoyments designated by that name; I shall, doubtless, learn to forget them. Society has rejected me; they refuse to allow me any part in its joys and honours, and I have been relegated to this rock. Well, then, let us perform our task apart, let us work to render this state supportable, and to depend on others as little as possible.

I daily confirmed myself in these thoughts—a favourite and habitual subject of my reveries—and this has decided the rest of my life.

I should be satisfied if I had a healthy lodging, good water, and if I were not obliged to speak to the people who surround me.

The taste for study is a great resource for me. I read a great deal with a pen in my hand; on the[131] margin of my books I note my souvenirs, my reflections, and trace the details of the campaigns I have been through, and develope the considerations I had sketched about the military condition of Denmark. I still like to occupy myself with society as a simple spectator, though I have no desire to act a part in it. I like to dream awake while walking. The ramparts are the ordinary scene of my promenades.

Thence, when the weather is fine, I perceive the mountainous coasts of the mainland, the rocks, the valleys, the forests, the habitations, which form varied scenes, the islets and shoals with which the coast is studded. Sometimes I discern in the distance a vessel which is, perhaps, bringing me books; more frequently I watch the departure of the fishermen's boats, or else see them return, uttering shouts of joy and triumph, with the booty they have gained by so much fatigue and boldness in the dangerous Northern Seas.

I also take pleasure in contemplating the fury of the waves raised by storms, and which break against the rock on which I am a captive.

In the months of July and August the coast of Norway offers an aspect of magnificent vegetation; the navigation is active; clouds of birds appear to animate the rocks that border the shore; the sky is pure, and the view enjoyed from Munkholm is enchanting. The nights, especially, have a peculiar charm; the air has something unctuous and suave, which seems to soften[132] my melancholy reveries; the nights at this period are a species of twilight, for at midnight it is clear enough to read even the finest type.

I have found in an external staircase a spot which has grown my favourite asylum, even when winter has commenced. There I am sheltered against the north winds; there, and in the company of my books, wrapped up in an old bearskin coat, I feel less a prisoner than elsewhere; though the eyes of the sentry plunge into the spot, my presence in it could not be suspected.

Since the commencement of my stay on the island, I have regulated the employment of my time. I rise in summer at daybreak, and in winter at eight o'clock. I employ the first hour of the day in pious meditations; I then occupy myself with readings that require some mental effort; a short walk precedes my dinner; I take a longer walk after the meal. Reading the newspapers, romances, or theatrical pieces, generally ends my evenings. The days on which the public papers arrive are holidays with me. The fort chaplain pays me a visit now and then: the one who held this office on my arrival has been removed to Bergen. His conversation caused me pleasure, and that of his successor pleases me no less; I have found them both enlightened, charitable, disposed to relieve me by consolatory discourses, and by procuring me books. The Danish clergy, generally, are distinguished from the rest of the nation by their virtues and information.

When the weather is bad, I walk in a large room in[133] the tower of the fortress; this room served as a lodging for Count von Griffenfeldt. He was the son of a wine-merchant, and rose by his merit to the place of grand chancellor of the kingdom and the dignity of count. He governed the state wisely; if he had retained the power, he would have prevented the wars that ruined Denmark under Christian V. His enemies had him condemned to the punishment which the unhappy Struensee underwent; but on the scaffold itself the penalty of death, which had been too hasty, was commuted, as if by mercy, into a confinement on this rock, where he prolonged his wretchedness for nineteen years, and died of the gravel.

"Such," I said to myself, "is the fate which menaces me; but I shall not wait so long for it, for I believe that I can already feel the same malady."

In October, 1774, the marriage festival of Prince Frederick was celebrated, and at this very period a despatch arrived for the commandant of Munkholm. He was recommended greater severity with his prisoners, and especially with me. This letter of General Hauch's was certainly not written with the intention of my seeing it, but it was shown me by the commandant. His attentions to me did not escape my notice; he, doubtless, wished to make me feel them; what did he expect from me?

On March 1, 1775, a lodging was assigned me in another house, which had just been finished. I was given two rooms, but did not gain by the change.[134] The other buildings of the fort, and in particular the one I had inhabited, were sheltered by the ramparts, while the new house, built in the angle of a lofty rock, was exposed to the north, east, and west winds. The beams that formed the walls did not join, any more than the planks of the floor; under my lodging a cellar seemed to breathe an icy blast through the openings in the flooring. The stove intended to heat the room could not protect me from the cold; yet its effect was sufficient when the snow fell to dissolve it into rain in the apartment; and it is in such a habitation, under the 64° of northern latitude, that I write this description, which is not exaggerated.

In November, 1775, I was attacked by an hemorrhoidal colic, which caused me such pain as to draw shrieks from me. The surgeon who attended me evidently thought my condition desperate. The pain grew less, however; I needed rest, and begged the sentry not to let any one enter. I was beginning to sleep, when the commandant arrived; he entered in defiance of my orders, woke me, and said that as I was on the point of death, I ought to make haste, and leave a will in his favour; I evaded this by answering him that I did not intend dying yet. He assured me again that I must believe him, because he was commandant: I made no answer, and he went off growling, and soon after made a frightful disturbance, alleging that an attempt was going to be made to carry me off, and that a boat had been noticed in the neighbourhood.

Early in 1776, the commandant of Munkholm was removed, and Major Colin took his place.

This new commandant, two days after his arrival, sent me a bottle of good water, bread, and fresh butter; this procured me the best meal I had yet had. Under this commandant I enjoyed great tranquility and greater ease. I relieved myself by writing these memoirs, and I fancied that I felt less resentment at the evil that had been done me, in proportion as I wrote the narrative of it.

It is certain that fate has been very contrary to me. I joined to the passion of arms a taste for meditation, study, and retirement. I eagerly desired to acquire glory, but an independence would have been sufficient for me: I could not hope for either now.

Some one once said to Count de St. Germain, that it was surprising he should resolve to quit the service of France, when he had 60,000 livres a year from the king's bounty; he answered, that 100 crowns a year composed his whole patrimony, but he would sooner live on that than endure affronts.

This answer struck me, and I resolved to save all I could, so as to acquire an independence. I possessed, in 1771, 8,000 crowns, which I had entrusted to Schimmelmann, while awaiting the opportunity to sink them in an annuity. If I did not succeed in a military career, I hoped with this resource to procure a retreat in an agreeable country, and in a warm climate.

Now, my money is lost, I have no longer a career to follow, and I am a prisoner for life on a rock in 64° of northern latitude: but how great was my folly in leaving the service of Russia to come to Denmark!

I was making these sad reflections when, on September 25, 1776, I was informed by a note from Lieutenant-General von der Osten, grand bailiff and commandant of Trondhjem, that I should receive a visit from him. I had not recovered from the surprise this note caused me, when Von der Osten himself appeared, followed by the commandant, a surgeon, and his valet. He hurriedly entered my room, shouting, Pardon, pardon, in the king's name! He held in his hand a portfolio full of papers, among which were—

1. An order for my release, addressed to General Hauch, in his quality of first deputy of the College of War: this order was signed by the king, and countersigned by Guldberg, under date, Frederiksborg, August 21, 1776.

3. An instruction referring to the engagement I was to sign and seal before obtaining my release.

These three documents were to the effect that his Majesty, on the intercession of his Royal Highness Prince Frederick, his beloved brother, consented to pardon me by liberating me from the captivity in[137] which I was at Munkholm, upon the following conditions:—

I. That I should leave Trondhjem by sea, to proceed to the northern coast of France, and thence directly and immediately either to Provence or Languedoc, at my choice.

II. That I would pledge myself never to return to Copenhagen, or the king's states.

III. That I would not leave the country to which I was sent without the king's permission, and that I would not make frequent journeys.

IV. That I would not approach the town of Orange (where Rantzau had taken up his abode).

VI. That I would not act, write, or speak in any way against the king or the royal family.

If there was no vessel ready for me to embark, I was allowed to remain at Trondhjem; but I must not leave the town without the governor's permission, or go further than a league from it. The king granted me for my journey 800 crowns of the money which had belonged to me, and hopes were held out of a pension.

The instruction concerning my engagement was very long. Guldberg, who had drawn it up, had interlarded it with a good many religious motives: he even alluded to the efficaciousness of Christ's blood;[138] but, after all, it was probably to him that I owed the amelioration in my fate.

General von der Osten added to the conditions various articles, by which he hoped to pay court to the minister.

I signed what was asked, and though I felt perfectly well the value of an engagement imposed on a man who had not been legally convicted of any crime, I resolved to observe it. When this act was regularly drawn up, the general, in order to give the circumstance greater éclat, had me bled by his surgeon-major, after which he proposed to me a bottle of red wine to restore my senses.

I excused myself by observing that I did not drink, and offered him a liqueur, of which I possessed two bottles.

"I could carry them off," he said, after examining them; "but this commission must be worth more than that."

This was giving me to understand that he reckoned on a goodly portion of my 800 crowns. It may be supposed that my intentions on this point did not at all accord with his.

There was no vessel at Trondhjem destined for France, and I could not expect one for a long time, as from the beginning of September till the end of April the sea is very stormy in these latitudes, and hence I should have to wait eight full months before I could depart.

In this situation I wrote to the court to offer my thanks for the mercy shown me, and to obtain permission to proceed to my destination by land. In the meanwhile I remained at Munkholm, hoping to be less exposed there to the importunities of the general. The court of Copenhagen rejected my request, but allowed me to take ship for Holland.

Three vessels were preparing to sail for Amsterdam, one of which belonged to Trondhjem, and General von der Osten wished me to take passage in it; but I gave the preference to a Danish ship.

The general offered me the services of his valet, to prepare a gold-laced coat; but this offer did not tempt me. I set out with my bearskin pelisse, which composed my wardrobe. I also carried off my 800 crowns, without leaving one for the general.

The three vessels bound for Amsterdam set sail from Trondhjem on October 16; two perished: the one I was on board reached Christiansund, where we remained till February 16. After a stormy navigation, we reached Amsterdam on March 10.

In 1780, Falckenskjold received permission to retire to the Pays de Vaud, where his friend Reverdil invited him, and he established his home at Lausanne. In 1787, the court of Petersburg proposed to him to re-enter its service; he was offered the post of chief of[140] the staff in the army intended to act against the Turks. But, finding himself bound by the engagements he had made, he replied, that he could not accept the offer without the formal consent of the court of Copenhagen; and this court refused its assent, under the pretext that it needed his services. At the same time, it permitted Falckenskjold to return to Copenhagen, and seemed disposed to revoke his order of banishment.

In the spring of 1788 he went to Copenhagen, but his reception there was such that he longed to return to his retreat at Lausanne. He obtained permission to go back, and, having recovered a portion of his property, which the state had seized, he invested it in annuities in the French funds. In the same year, war having broken out between Denmark and Sweden, the Danish government recalled Falckenskjold, conferring on him the rank and pay of a major-general; but when he was going to set out he learned that peace was signed, and he was saved the journey.

His pay and savings enabled him to live comfortably, with such friends as Gibbon and Reverdil; and he kept his health till the last two years of his life, when he was attacked by a gouty rheumatism, the seeds of which he had contracted in his Munkholm prison. He died on September 30, 1820, at the age of eighty-two years and a few months.

CHAPTER V.
DEPARTURE OF THE QUEEN.

We have seen that the sentence of the court, decreeing a dissolution of the marriage, was announced to Caroline Matilda. From this moment she was no longer regarded as queen, and all her ties with Denmark were broken off with her marriage. After her condemnation, the ambassadors of the foreign powers were convoked at the Christiansborg Palace. They proceeded thither in mourning, and heard from the grand-master that, as the king no longer had a consort, there was no longer a queen. The name of Caroline Matilda was from this moment effaced from the public prayers. She became a stranger to the country over which she had reigned.[34]

As was the case with the other prisoners, whose position was considerably mitigated so soon as they had made satisfactory confessions in their examination before the Commission of Inquiry, the queen, after the separation, was granted better apartments in the first-floor of the fortress, and was allowed to take the air on the ramparts. That Colonel Keith was permitted to visit the queen was looked on as a further concession, and that the envoy frequently took advantage of this permission, may surely be regarded as a further and important proof how greatly he was convinced of her innocence.

When her Majesty was informed of the circumstances connected with the tragical death of the two prisoners, she said to Fräulein Mösting, her maid of honour,

"Unhappy men! they have paid dearly for their attachment to the king, and their zeal for my service."

No thought of self, it will be noticed: Caroline Matilda entirely forgot the humiliation to which she had been exposed by Struensee's dastardly confession, and only evinced sincere compassion for his undeserved and barbarous fate. But she was ever thus: from the first moment to the last, she sacrificed herself for others. Of this, the following anecdote will serve as an affecting proof:—

The queen, having so fatally experienced the vicissitudes of human grandeur, was not so deeply affected by her own disasters as to overlook the sufferings and misery of some state prisoners, doomed to perpetual[143] exile in the Castle of Kronborg. Her Majesty's liberal beneficence was never more conspicuous than in this period of affliction and distress. She sent daily from her table two dishes to these forsaken objects of compassion, and out of a scanty allowance, she sent, weekly, a small sum to be distributed among them. The governor having requested her Majesty to withdraw her bounty from an officer who had been closely confined for some years past in a remote turret, debarred from all human intercourse, on suspicion of a treasonable correspondence with the agent of a northern power, who had enlisted, with the assistance of the prisoner, several Danish subjects for his master's service, the queen merely replied with the following line of Voltaire:—

On one occasion, Caroline Matilda, conversing on the early commencement of her misfortunes, observed that, since she was born to suffer, she found some consolation in being marked out so soon by the hand of adversity. "I may possibly live," said her Majesty, "to see Denmark disabused with respect to my conduct: whereas my poor mother, one of the best women that ever existed, died while the load of obloquy lay heavy upon her, and went to the grave without the pleasure of a vindicated character."[36]

Early in March, the charges against Caroline Matilda had been forwarded to London, and were there submitted to the opinions of the first lawyers, who, though consulted separately, all declared that the evidence brought forward was so far from being legal conviction, that it scarce amounted to a bare presumption of guilt: and they affirmed that they did not give credit to any of the facts as lawyers, but even found themselves obliged to disbelieve them as men. Upon this the court of St. James insisted that no sentence should be passed on her Danish Majesty, as the evidence against her was only presumptive, and very inconclusive.

A strong fleet was now fitted out, and universally supposed to be destined for the Baltic; still the most prudent thought, or at least hoped, that the fleet was only intended to intimidate the Danes, but would not sail, as the king of Prussia would certainly march an army immediately to Hanover, and then a new war would be kindled in the north. On the 22nd, counter orders, for suspending the preparations, were sent to Portsmouth. Horace Walpole, the omniscient, shall tell us what was the generally accepted version of the affair:—

"The king, as Lord Hertford told me, had certainly ordered the fleet to sail; and a near relation of Lord North told me that the latter had not been acquainted with that intention. Lord Mansfield, therefore, who had now got the king's ear, or Lord Sandwich, First Lord of the Admiralty, must have been consulted. The latter, though I should think he would not ap[145]prove it, was capable of flattering the king's wishes: Lord Mansfield assuredly would. The destination was changed on the arrival of a courier from Denmark, who brought word that the queen was repudiated, and, I suppose, a promise that her life should be spared: for, though the Danes had thirty ships and the best seamen, next to ours, and though we were sending but ten against them, the governing party were alarmed, probably from not being sure their nation was with them. The queen had confessed her intrigue with Struensee, and signed that confession. When the counsellor, who was to defend her, went to receive her orders, she laughed, and told him the story was true."

In this we have a favourable specimen of Walpole's talent as an embroiderer of history. It is very evident that he had heard the facts floating about society; but his additions to them were evidently pure inventions. He shall give us one bit more of gossip, which may or may not have been true, although there appears to be evidence in its favour in the strange conduct of George III. toward his sister:—

"They gave her (Caroline Matilda) the title of Countess of Aalborg, and condemned her to be shut up in the castle of that name. The King of England had certainly known her story two years before. A clerk in the secretary's office having opened a letter that came with the account, told me that he had seen it before the secretaries gave it to the king. It was now believed that this intelligence had occasioned the[146] Princess of Wales to make her extraordinary journey to Germany, where she saw her daughter, though to no purpose. Princess Amelia told Lord Hertford, on the 26th, that when the King of Denmark was in England, observing how coldly he spoke of his wife, she asked him why he did not like her. He answered, 'Mais elle est si blonde!' The princess added, that Queen Matilda had a very high spirit, and that she believed the Danes would consent to let her go to Hanover. 'But she will not be let go thither,' added the princess, meaning that the queen's brother, Prince Charles of Mecklenburg, commanded there, 'or to Zell, but she will not go thither (another of the queen's brothers was there); perhaps she may go to Lüneburg."[37]

It is very probable, too, that the temper of the British nation, which had undergone a complete revulsion on the announcement of the fleet sailing, had something to do with its suspension. At any rate, we read in the General Evening Post for April 30, the following painful account:—

"Nothing, surely, is a greater impeachment of our laws, and more, of our lawgivers and magistrates, than the unrestrained licentiousness daily exhibited by the common people in this metropolis. Yesterday, in some parts of the city, men were crying about printed papers containing the most scandalous, ruinous, and impudent reflections on the Queen of Denmark.[147] The worst prostitute that ever Covent Garden produced could not have had more gross abuse bestowed on her."

But Sir R. M. Keith had been working hard in the meanwhile, and on the receipt of his letters of recall and news of the menaces of England in equipping a fleet, the regency gave in at once, promised to repay the queen's dowry, allow her five thousand a-year, and let her go to Hanover, beyond Jordan, anywhere, so long as they could only be rid of her. In reply to the despatch in which Sir R. M. Keith announced his success, he received the following official letter:—

Your despatches by King the messenger have been already acknowledged; those by Pearson were received on Wednesday afternoon, and I now answer both together.

His Majesty's entire approbation of your conduct continues to the last moment of your success, and his satisfaction has in no part of it been more complete than in the manner in which you have stated, urged, and obtained the liberty of his sister. The care you have taken to distinguish between a claim of right and the subjects of negotiation, and to prevent the mixture of stipulations with a demand, is perfectly agreeable to your instructions.

The national object of procuring the liberty of a daughter of England confined in Denmark, after her connection with Denmark was dissolved, is now obtained. For this alone an armament was prepared, and therefore, as soon as the acquiescence of the court of Copenhagen was known, the preparations were suspended, that the mercantile and marine interests of this kingdom might be affected no longer than was necessary by the expectation of a war.

Instead of a hostile armament, two frigates and a sloop of war are now ordered to Elsinore. One of these is already in the Downs—the others will repair thither immediately; and, so soon as the wind permits, they will proceed to their destination. I enclose to you an account of them, which you may transmit to Monsieur Ostein (Von der Osten) ministerially, referring at the same time to the assurance of these pacific proceedings.

The compliance of the Danish court with his Majesty's demand is still a compliance. Their continuing, unasked, the title of queen, and other concessions, and the attainment of the national object accompanying each other, his Majesty would think it improper to interrupt the national intercourse from any personal or domestic consideration. You will therefore inform Mr. Ostein that his Majesty intends to leave a minister at the court of Copenhagen, the explanation you may give of this suspension of former directions,[149] and his determination, being left to your own discretion.[38]

It was with feelings of pride that the British envoy passed through the vaulted entrance of "Hamlet's Castle," to carry to an afflicted and injured princess the welcome proofs of fraternal affection and liberty restored. The feeling was reciprocal, for when Keith brought the order for Caroline Matilda's enlargement, which he had obtained by his spirited conduct, she was so surprised by the unexpected intelligence, that she burst into a flood of tears, embraced him in a transport of joy, and called him her deliverer.[39]

The queen from this time forth was more constantly than ever on the ramparts watching for the arrival of the British flotilla. The squadron, consisting of the Southampton, Captain McBride, the Seaford, Captain Davis, and the Cruizer, Captain Cummings, left England on May 22, and anchored off Elsinore on the 27th. In the meanwhile Caroline Matilda wrote her brother a most affecting letter, asserting her innocence of all the criminal accusations against her in the strongest manner, and declaring that the strictness of her future life should fully refute the slander of her enemies. She at the same time expressed a wish to be allowed to return to England, but left her fate in his Majesty's hands. A consultation had been held at[150] Buckingham House on the subject, but it was found too expensive, and it was finally settled that Caroline Matilda was to take up her residence at Celle, in Hanover, George III. allowing her £8,000 a year for the support of her dignity.

Very touching, too, is it to read that the queen at this time wore nothing but deep mourning; and one of her ladies asking her why she affected such a semblance of sorrow, she replied—

Sir Robert Murray Keith supplies an interesting anecdote of the queen in a letter to his sister:—

"Here I am, thank my stars, upon the utmost verge of Denmark. My ships are not yet arrived, but a few days may conclude the whole affair; and the weather is mild and agreeable. I return to Copenhagen this evening, but only for a day or two, to wind up my affairs, and give my parting advice to the little secretary, in whose success as chargé d'affaires I take a particular interest. I am just returned from her Majesty, who is, Heaven be praised, in perfect health, notwithstanding the danger she has run of catching the measles from the young princess, whom she never quitted during her illness. A more tender mother than this queen has never been born in the world."

Caroline Matilda was at dinner when the imperial salute of the English frigate and the castle guns informed her Majesty of Captain McBride's arrival.[151] This gallant officer met Sir R. Keith on shore, who, after a mutual exchange of compliments, introduced the captain to her Majesty, by whom he was most graciously received as a man destined to convey her safe to her brother's electoral dominions; far from the reach of the personal shafts of her enemies, and that land which had been the dismal scene of her unparalleled misfortunes and humiliations. When the captain had notified his commission, and said that he should await her Majesty's time and pleasure, she exclaimed in the anguish of her heart, "Ah! my dear children," and immediately retired. It was not for an insensible monarch on a throne, on which she seemed to have been seated merely to be the butt of envy, malice, and perfidy, that her Majesty grieved: the excruciating idea of being parted from her dear children, and the uncertainty of their fate, summoned up all the feelings of a tender mother. She begged to see her son before he was torn for ever from her bosom: but all her Majesty's entreaties were unsuccessful. Juliana Maria envied her the comfort of the most wretched—that of a parent sympathising in mutual grief and fondness with children snatched from her embrace by unnatural authority.

A deputation of noblemen having been appointed by the queen dowager to observe the queen after her enlargement till her departure, under the fallacious show of respect for the royal personage so lately[152] injured and degraded—when they were admitted to Caroline Matilda's presence, and wished her in her Majesty's name a happy voyage, she answered—

"The time will come when the king will know that he has been deceived and betrayed; calumny may impose for a time on weak and credulous minds, but truth always prevails in the end. All my care and anxiety are now for the royal infants, my children."[40]

On May 30, a lady belonging to the court went to Kronborg in one of the king's coaches to remove the young Princess Louisa Augusta, and conduct her royal highness to Christiansborg Palace. Hence the last moments which the feeling queen spent in Denmark were the most painful of all: she was obliged to part from her only consolation, her only blessing, her beloved daughter: she was forced to leave her dear child among her enemies. For a long time she bedewed the infant with hot tears—for a long time she pressed it to her heart. She strove to tear herself away; but the looks, the smiles, the endearing movements of the infant, were so many fetters to hold the affectionate mother back. At last she called up all her resolution, took her once more in her arms, with the impetuous ardour of distracted love imprinted on the lips of the child the farewell kiss, and, delivering it to the lady-in-waiting, shrieked, "Away, away, I now possess nothing here!"[41]

As the governor had behaved to the queen so as to merit her Majesty's confidence and esteem, she entrusted him with a letter for the king, which he promised faithfully to deliver into his Majesty's own hands. It must have been very moving, as the king was observed to shed tears on reading it.[42]

At six in the evening of May 30, Caroline Matilda proceeded in a royal Danish boat on board the English frigate. Her suite consisted of Colonel Keith, who would accompany her to Göhrde, and of Count Holstein[154] zu Ledreborg, his wife, Lady-in-waiting von Mösting, and Page of the Chamber von Raben, who were ordered to convey her Majesty as far as Stade, and then return by land. When the anchor was apeak, the fortress, and the Danish guardship in the Sound, gave a salute of twenty-seven guns.

The queen remained on deck, her eyes immovably directed toward the fortress of Kronborg, which contained her child, who had so long been her only source of comfort, until darkness intercepted the view. The vessel having made but little way during the night, at daybreak she observed with fond satisfaction that the fortress was still visible, and could not be persuaded to enter the cabin so long as she could obtain the faintest glimpse of the battlements.

Among Sir R. M. Keith's papers was found the following copy of verses, whose title speaks for itself. Unfortunately, there is no positive proof that they were written by the queen herself, beyond the care that Sir Robert took of them:—

Before taking leave of Kronborg, I may be permitted to insert an anecdote related by my grandfather in his "Travels in the North." When he visited Kronborg, in 1774, a poor fettered slave came up and addressed him in French. Mr. Wraxall then commenced a conversation with him, and asked him if he were here when Queen Matilda was in confinement.

"Ah! Monsieur," the prisoner replied, "I saw her[156] every day. I had the honour to turn the spit for her Majesty's dinner. She even promised to endeavour to obtain me my liberty. I assure you," he added warmly, "that she was the most amiable princess in the world."

Whether the man said this because he believed it would please an Englishman, or whether it was the genuine effusion of respectful gratitude, my grandfather was unable to say, but could not resist the compliment to an English and injured queen.

By a royal resolution of March 18, 1773, all the documents connected with the dissolution of the marriage of Queen Caroline Matilda were made into four separate packets, and one of them, which contained the orders, protocols, and examinations, was deposited in the secret archives: the second, containing the perfect acts with the votes of all the commissioners, and a copy of the examination of the witnesses, was entrusted for safe keeping to the governor of Glückstadt: the third, consisting of a copy of the original articles and the examinations, was kept at the Norwegian fortress of Bergenhuus, in an iron chest, in a room the keys of which were held by the commandant and the viceroy: and the fourth packet, which only contained a copy of the articles, but not of the depositions, was placed in the archives of the Danish Chancery. This division of the documents also serves as a proof, how every possible care was taken that the queen's posterity should not hereafter find the whole of the documents at any one place.

The queen did not reach Stade till June 5, where she was received with all the respect due to crowned heads. The Hanoverian Privy Councillor von Bodenhausen, and the Land Marshal Chamberlain von Bülow, pulled on board the flag-ship to welcome the queen. At the landing-place, where the ladies and gentlemen selected to attend on her Majesty were awaiting her, the Danish escort took leave. The queen gave Count Holstein a diamond solitaire as a souvenir, and entrusted him with a gold snuff-box for the wife of General von Hauch, commandant of Kronborg.

The new suite of the queen was composed of a grand lady, two ladies-in-waiting, one chief chamberlain, a chamberlain, one page of the bed-chamber, two pages and a number of servants. After remaining for two days at Stade, she travelled with her suite, viâ Harburg, to the Château of Göhrde, thirty miles from Stade, where she intended to remain till the palace at Celle was restored for her reception. At Göhrde, Sir R. Keith took leave of her, and she received a visit from her eldest sister, the Hereditary Princess of Brunswick Wolfenbüttel and her husband.[43] These near relations, however, also belonged to the princely family from which Juliana Maria was descended, and[158] in consequence, were rather suspicious friends for Caroline Matilda.

On October 20, the queen made her entrance into Celle, and took up her abode in the royal château. This old residence of the former Dukes of Lüneburg was at this time a fortified castle surrounded by moats and walls. Although the apartments were spacious and habitable, and well furnished, the exterior of the castle resembled a prison rather than a palace. But the queen soon gained the hearts of all the inhabitants by her amiability and resignation, and thus converted the unfriendly asylum into an abode of peace and consolation. She frequently attended at church, was fond of conversing on religious topics, and gave rich gifts to the poor, both with her own hands and through the clergy of the town. Treating all gracefully who approached her presence, she more especially gave children an opportunity of telling their parents, with delight, that they had been spoken to by the queen. If, at night, she fancied she had not been so friendly as usual to any one during the day, she reproached herself for it. Judging all persons indulgently, she could not endure that absent persons should be harshly condemned in her presence, and, in truth, she ruled her court, not alone by her rank, but even more through the lovingness of her noble heart. But, whenever she was obliged to act the queen, she did so, on the other hand, with a dignified demeanour and with majesty.

Although Caroline Matilda excelled in all the exer[159]cises befitting her sex, birth, and station, and danced the first minuet in the Danish court, she never again indulged in this polite amusement, of which she had been extremely fond, after the masked ball the conclusion of which had been so fatal and disgraceful to her Majesty. As one of her pretended crimes had been the delight she took in riding, and the uncommon address and spirit with which she managed her horse, she also renounced this innocent recreation, for fear of giving the least occasion to the blame and malice of the censorious and the ignorant. Her Majesty had an exquisite taste for music, and devoted much of her time to the harpsichord, accompanied by the melodious voice of a lady of her court.

There was in the queen's dress a noble simplicity which exhibited more taste than magnificence. As her mind had been cultivated by reading the most eminent writers of modern times, she read regularly for two hours before dinner with Fräulein Schülenburg, whatever her Majesty thought most conducive to her instruction or entertainment, in poetry and history, the ladies communicating their observations to each other with equal freedom and ingenuity. The queen improved the knowledge she had acquired of the German language, and had a selection of the best authors of that learned nation. As her manners were the most polished, graceful, and endearing, her court became the resort of persons of both sexes, celebrated for their love of the fine arts. The contracted state[160] of her finances could not restrain the princely magnificence and liberal disposition which made her purse ever open to indigent merit and distressed virtue. Naturally cheerful and happy in the consciousness of her innocence, adored and revered by the circle of a court free from cabals and intrigues, even the dark cloud of adversity could not alter the sweetness and serenity of her temper. She was surrounded by faithful servants, who attended her, not from sordid motives of ambition, but from attachment and unfeigned regard.

Peace, content, and harmony dwelt under her Majesty's auspices, and her household was like a well-regulated family, superintended by a mistress who made her happiness consist in doing good to all those who implored her Majesty's compassion and benevolence. Banished with every circumstance of indignity from the throne of Denmark, her noble soul retained no sentiment of revenge or resentment against the wicked authors of her fall, or against the Danish people. Ambition, a passion from which she was singularly exempt, never disturbed her peace of mind; and she looked back to the diadem which had been torn from her brow with wondrous calmness and magnanimity.

It was not the crown Caroline Matilda regretted, for her children alone occupied all her care and solicitude; the feelings of the queen were absorbed in those of the mother; and if she ever manifested by[161] tears her inward grief and perplexity, maternal fondness caused all these fears and agitations.[44]

In October of this year Sir R. Keith was requested by Lord Suffolk to visit Caroline Matilda, and send in a minute account of her position and feelings. How well the ambassador performed his task will be seen from his letter.

I arrived here on the 31st October, late in the evening, and the next day had the honour of delivering the king's letter to her Danish Majesty, whom I found in perfect health, and without any remains of pain from her late accident. In two very long audiences, which her Majesty was pleased to grant me, I endeavoured to execute, with the utmost punctuality, his Majesty's command, and shall now lay before your lordship all the lights those audiences afforded me, relative to the queen's wishes and intentions. I cannot enter upon that subject without previously assuring your lordship that the queen received those repeated proofs of his Majesty's fraternal affection and friendship, which my orders contained, with the warmest [162]expressions of gratitude and sensibility; and that nothing could be more frank or explicit than her answers to a great number of questions, which she permitted me to ask upon any subject that arose.

In regard to Denmark, the queen declares that, in the present situation of the court, she has not a wish for any correspondence or connection there, beyond what immediately concerns the welfare and education of her children. That she has never written a single letter to Denmark since she left it, or received one thence. That the only person belonging to that kingdom from whom she hears lives in Holstein, and is not connected with the court.

The queen having expressed great anxiety with respect to the false impressions which may be instilled into the minds of her children, particularly regarding herself, I thought it my duty to say that such impressions, however cruelly intended, could not, at the tender age of her Majesty's children, nor for some years to come, take so deep a root as not to be entirely effaced by more candid instructions, and the dictates of filial duty, when reason and reflection shall break in upon their minds. The queen seemed willing to lay hold of that hope, yet could not help bursting into tears, when she mentioned the danger of losing the affections of her children.

Her Majesty appears very desirous to communicate directly to her royal brother all her views and wishes in the most confidential manner, hoping to obtain in[163] return his Majesty's advice and directions, which she intends implicitly to follow. She said that, in matters of so private and domestic a nature, it would give her much greater pleasure to learn his Majesty's intentions upon every point from his own pen, than through the channel of any of his electoral servants.

It gave me great satisfaction to find her Majesty in very good spirits, and so much pleased with the palace at Zell, the apartments of which are very spacious, and handsomely furnished. She wishes to have an apartment fitted up in the palace for her sister, the Princess of Brunswick, as she thinks that the etiquette of this country does not permit that princess, in her visits to Zell, to be lodged out of the palace, without great impropriety. Her Majesty said that she intended to write herself to the king on this head.

The queen told me that the very enterprising and dangerous part which Queen Juliana has acted in Denmark, has created greater astonishment in Brunswick (where the abilities and character of that princess are known) than, perhaps, in any other city of Europe.

Her Majesty talked to me of several late incidents at the court of Denmark, but without appearing to take much concern in them. She mentioned, with a smile, some of the paltry things which had been sent as a part of her baggage from Denmark, adding, that this new instance of their meanness had not surprised her. But the Princess of Brunswick, who happened to be[164] present when the baggage was opened, expressed her indignation at the treatment in such strong terms, that she (the queen) could not help taking notice of it in her letters to the king.

She let me understand that a small collection of English books would be very agreeable to her, leaving the choice of them entirely to his Majesty.

Her Majesty more than once expressed how much she considered herself obliged to the king's ministers, for the zeal they had shown in the whole of the late unhappy transactions relating to Denmark and to herself. She is particularly sensible to the great share your lordship had in all those affairs, and has commanded me to convey to your lordship her acknowledgments for that constant attention to her honour and interests, which she is persuaded the king will look upon as an additional mark of your lordship's dutiful attachment to his royal person and family.

It only remains that I should beg your forgiveness for the great length to which I have swelled this letter. The only excuse I can offer arises from my ardent desire to excuse the king's orders with the utmost possible precision.

At home, Caroline Matilda appeared to have dropped out of memory with her landing at Stade. Her name [165]is never found in the journals of the time. Grub-street alone took possession of her memory. In those days many literary scoundrels earned a precarious livelihood by deliberately forging pamphlets on topics of interest at the moment, and thought nothing of trying to enhance their veracity by assuming names and titles to which they had not the slightest claim. One of these hungry gentry received a severe discomfiture, and must have felt ashamed, if he could feel shame, from honest Reverdil, in the July number of the Monthly Review. Reverdil's letter, written in English, is tremendously to the point. The lie, with a circumstance, bore the title of—"The real Views and Political System of the late Revolution of Copenhagen. By Christian Adolphus Rothes, formerly Councillor of Conference, Secretary of the Cabinet to his Majesty Christiern (sic) VII., and Great Assessor of the Supreme Council at Altona."

1. As I am pretty well acquainted with the Danish service, I can assure you that there is not in Denmark, Norway, or any of the Danish dominions, such a man as Mr. Christian Adolphus Rothes, in any employment whatever.

2. The dignity of Councillor of Conference being merely titular, there is no formerly Councillor.

3. The present king, Christian VII., has had three secretaries of the cabinet: the first is now in London (himself); the second, who followed his master on his[166] voyage, is in the Court of Chancery at Copenhagen; the third was beheaded on April 28.

4. There is no supreme council at Altona; that town, being no capital, hath but a corporation, and no other council. In that corporation there is no assessor, great or little.

To this crushing reply Reverdil adds that every circumstance in the book is absolutely false, and grounded on facts and a state of things that never existed. For instance, the conduct of the queen dowager in the king's council is very circumstantially described; but she never sat in the king's council.[46]

CHAPTER VI.
THE SECRET AGENT.

There is but little information to be derived about the life of Caroline Matilda during the year 1773. All we know is, that she continued to devote her life to charity and literary pursuits. Being endowed with a rare desire for learning and a splendid memory, she soon became versed in the beauties of German literature. Every evening before supper she had either German works read to her or read them herself. "The Death of Abel" moved her to tears, and Gellert was another of her favourite poets. She knew many of his hymns by heart, and was fondest of the one beginning "I ne'er will seek to injure him, who seeks to injure me." She[168] arranged a small hand library in a turret room hung with green damask, where she liked most to sit, and amused herself in turn with music and reading. Although she was a first-rate musician, she continued to take lessons in the art; but only cared for serious and tragical compositions, and might frequently be heard confiding to the instrument the grief that agitated her sorrowing heart.

In order to distract her thoughts, a theatre was arranged in the palace. On January, 1773, Schröder's celebrated company of comedians came to Celle, and gave their first performance on the court stage, a spacious box having been railed off in the pit for the queen, the court, and the nobility. The queen attended nearly every performance, and the court chamberlain carefully obeyed the instructions he had received from London, only to allow amusing performances to take place, so that Holberg's comedies were frequently played, but never tragedies, or even serious dramas. That this precaution was necessary, was seen on the performance of the play "Appearances are Deceptive," in which the appearance of some children on the stage produced so violent an impression on the queen, that she at once quitted the playhouse, and, in spite of the rough breeze, was obliged to walk about for a long time in the gardens ere she could regain her self-possession. Afterwards, the court at times acted plays, in order to provide a slight amusement for their beloved queen.

An idea of Caroline Matilda's mode of life will be[169] best formed, however, from a perusal of the following letter to her sister, written in the summer of 1773:—

But all these efforts were impotent to dispel the expression of gnawing sorrow, which was imprinted on the countenance of the queen, and was spread over her whole manner. Toward the middle of 1774, a great pleasure, however, was caused the queen, by the receipt of a portrait of her son, the crown prince[171] Frederick, which was sent her from Copenhagen. Shortly after she had received the picture, her grande maîtresse, Madame d'Ompteda, entered the room, because she had heard the queen speaking loudly, and was much surprised at finding her alone. With tears in her eyes, but with the sweet smile which, even in sorrowful moments, played round her mouth, she said to the grand mistress:

"You cannot account for hearing me speaking loudly and yet not finding any one with me? Well, do you know with whom I was conversing? It was with this dear picture."

"And now that you have surprised me," the queen continued, "you shall also know what I was saying to the picture. I employed the words which you a few days ago placed in the mouth of a daughter who had found her lost father again, except that I have altered them as follows:

On September 18, 1774, Mr. N. W. Wraxall, junior, arrived at Celle. This gentleman had, at an early age, obtained a profitable employment in the East Indies, and had even attained some dignity; he, however, threw up his post for motives which may be made known hereafter but do not belong here, and returned to England. He was very ambitious, and that ambition had been fostered by the fact that, having in his youth ransacked the muniments of Bristol, he had discovered that one of his ancestors was bailiff of that city in the thirteenth century; but the difficulty was, to what object would he turn that ambition: he was unknown and friendless, while, at the same time, the res angusta domi warned him to be up and stirring. There was but one way of acquiring fame and popularity: in those days, authorship was more respected, as being rarer, than it is among ourselves. Mr. Wraxall, therefore, determined first to make a tour, and then print an account of it, and, for this purpose, resolved to visit a but little known part of Europe, and thus add novelty to his descriptions. With this purpose he set out for the North, ran through Denmark, a portion of Sweden and Russia, and, on his homeward route, thought there would be no harm in going a little out of his way to visit the Queen of Denmark: he had learned something about her sad fate while in Copenhagen,[173] and this had excited a wish to know more, literary capital being left out of the question.

On September 18, then, Mr. Wraxall waited on Baron Seckendorf, chamberlain to the queen, who presented strangers. The "Private Journal" shall tell us how he fared:—

"I went, at half-past one, to the castle of Zell. Monsieur Seckendorf introduced me to the grand maître of her Highness the Princess of Brunswick. The princess herself entered in about a quarter of an hour: she gave me her hand to kiss, and began conversation with me directly; it was interrupted by the queen's entrance, to whom I was presented, with the same ceremony. Her Majesty and the princess kept me in constant talk before and after dinner; we talked of Denmark, of Prince Frederick, his intended marriage, &c. 'He was a child,' said she (the queen), 'unknown while I was there.' Hirschholm, she said, was her favourite palace. 'But, tell me,' said the princess, 'about the queen-mother: she's my aunt, but no matter: say what you will, you may be free—and for the king, how is he?' I very frankly expressed my sentiments. The queen asked me a thousand questions about the court of Russia, Sweden, my travels, &c. The queen asked me, also, about her children, the prince in particular. I told her how they dressed him now: I assured her I had been taken for a spy in Copenhagen. Her Majesty related to me Mr. Morris's affair with Miss Calvert. She was very gay, and seemed in[174] no way a prey to melancholy. She was very fat, for so young a woman. She asked me my age. I told her. 'You are, then,' said she, 'exactly as old as I am; we were born in the same year.' Her features are pretty, and her teeth very small, even, and white. She resembles his Majesty (George III.) infinitely in face: but the princess said, not so strongly as she. I don't think so, and told her royal highness so. Her Majesty appealed to one of her maids of honour, who agreed in opinion with me. The queen was dressed in a Barré coloured gown, or at least an orange red, so very nearly resembling it that I could not distinguish the difference. I asked her how many languages she spoke. 'Five,' she said, 'Danish, English, French, German, and Italian.' The princess is much thinner in face, but not a great deal less in her person: she wants the Queen of Denmark's teeth, but has a very good complexion. She asked me about the Duchess of Glo'ster, if I had seen her, if I knew her. 'She is a very fine woman,' she added, 'even now.' Mrs. C—— was mentioned. 'She was a prodigious favourite,' I remarked, 'of the Duke of York.' She replied, with a smile, 'For a moment.' She did me the honour to ask me to take Brunswick in my way next summer, or whenever I visited Germany again. She said she might, and should, have mistaken me for a Frenchman. 'You don't take that for a compliment, do you?' the queen observed. 'Indeed, no! I was too proud of my country.' Macaronies formed a part of our conversation.[175] ''Tis all over now,' I said, 'the word is quite extinct in England.' 'But, tell me,' said her Majesty, 'tell me ingenuously, were you not a bit of a one, while it lasted?' I assured her not. I took my leave soon after dinner.

"Tuesday, Sept. 20.—'Tis a very pleasant, delightful walk round the ramparts, of a full English mile. The gardens, likewise, near the town are very pleasant and well kept. The streets of Zell are for the most part wide enough, and well paved, but the buildings are very old and very miserable. The fortifications are merely nominal, of no sort of strength. The castle stands detached from the town; it is a square building, surrounded by a broad, wet ditch. There were formerly round towers at the corners, but they have been pulled down. It was built by one of the ancient dukes of Zell; within it is a quadrangle. About ten o'clock I went to the Hôtel de Ville, where at this time the shops of the merchants who come to the fair of Zell are held. Her Majesty the Queen, and her sister the princess, were there. I had the honour to talk with them near an hour; we conversed in English most familiarly on fifty subjects—the Grand Duke of Russia, the empress, the peace between Russia and Turkey, my travels, Dantzig, formed the chief articles. I showed her Majesty my medals of the Empress of Russia and some other things. She was dressed quite à l'Anglaise: a white bonnet, a pale pink nightgown, a gauze handkerchief, a little locket[176] on her bosom. Her face is very handsome: they are his Majesty's features, but all softened and harmonized. Pity she is so large in her person. The princess was quite English all over: a black hat over her eyes, and a common nightgown with a black apron."

Little anticipating that he should see the Queen of Denmark so soon again, Mr. Wraxall proceeded leisurely through Hanover, which he says may be truly described as "a hungry electorate," to Verden and Bremen. On Sept. 27 he reached Hamburg, and dined with Mr. Hanbury, the English consul, on the following day. Among the company present were Baron von Schimmelmann and his lady, Baroness von Bülow, "a very elegant woman," and M. le Texier, who had been treasurer to Christian VII. during the memorable tour. On the next night Mr. Wraxall was gratified at the Opera with a sight of the celebrated, or rather notorious, Countess Holstein, of whom he says:—

"I examined her through my glass. She is doubtless pretty, though not in my opinion so divinely fair as fame says. Her history at Hirschholm is well known. There was no gallantry, I thought, marked in her features, though 'tis said she certainly has that quality in her constitution. I thought of the unhappy Brandt as I looked at her."

At this time the city of Altona, only half a mile from Hamburg, was crowded with the adherents and partisans of the queen, many of them being of the first families in Denmark. Hamburg offered more[177] amusements than Altona, and they were therefore constantly to be found in the houses of the opulent citizens. Baron von Bülow, master of the horse to the Queen of Denmark, who was arrested at the time of the palace revolution, and eventually exiled to Altona, was among the number. They had already conceived the plan of effecting a counter revolution, and of restoring Queen Matilda, an enterprise to which they were urged by many motives.

The new ministry in Denmark was already growing unpopular from its weakness, languor, and incapacity. It was understood that the king ardently desired the return of his consort. The engaging qualities, fortitude, and talents of that princess, rendered more interesting by adversity, had awakened the attachment of the Danes. A numerous and powerful party in the capital and throughout the nation anxiously desired her restoration.

It was indispensable, in the first instance, previous to any attempt on the part of the exiled nobility, to ascertain with precision the sentiments of the queen herself. It was important for them to know whether she was willing to return to Copenhagen to resume the sovereign authority, which the king was incapable of exercising, and to co-operate with her friends toward her re-establishment. But the attempt to open any communication with the queen was equally dangerous and difficult. Though Celle was only eighty English miles distant from Hamburg and Altona,[178] still, as the northern bank of the Elbe was in, or close to the Danish territory, the journey to and from Celle was extremely perilous. The latter court, as well as Altona, was full of spies and emissaries, maintained by the party possessing the authority at Copenhagen. Such were their suspicions, and so great was their vigilance, that no person could have passed and re-passed between those places without being watched. These impediments had hitherto prevented the queen's adherents from venturing to send any of their own body to lay their projects before her Majesty; nor did they appear to have found any other person to whom they could confide the execution of so momentous a commission. They were still under this embarrassment when chance threw Mr. Wraxall in their way.

Having supped at the house of Mr. Jerome Matthiesen, where several of the Danish nobility were invited, Mr. Wraxall was led to talk about Denmark, from which country he had so recently returned. He expressed, with the warmth natural to a young man and an Englishman, his respect for Queen Caroline Matilda, his concern for her sufferings, and his detestation of the proceedings of her enemies. These sentiments, delivered without reserve or disguise, impressed the persons present that he might be induced to undertake the commission of repairing to Celle, negotiating with the queen, and taking an active part in their intended enterprise for her restoration.

Two or three of the principal persons concerned[179] having met on the following day, agreed to sound Mr. Wraxall's dispositions, and if they found them such as they had reason to suppose, they determined to confide their project to him. Mr. le Texier, brother-in-law of Mr. Matthiesen, was selected to execute this task. From the nature of his employment at the Danish court, this gentleman necessarily had an intimate knowledge of all the political intrigues as well as the secret history of the Danish court. At the revolution, he had been sent to Altona. This gentleman cultivated Mr. Wraxall's friendship with marked assiduity, visited him frequently, and turned the conversation on the affairs of Denmark. In order to gain Mr. Wraxall's confidence, he unfolded to him the concealed causes and springs alluded to. He inveighed against the mal-administration of the Dowager Queen Juliana and her son Prince Frederick; lamented the misfortunes of Queen Matilda, and expressed his wishes for her restoration.

On October 3, 1774, Le Texier called again on Mr. Wraxall, and being together alone, he asked him, after some rather mysterious and preparatory conversation, "if he would be ready, and if he were disposed, to serve the Queen of Denmark?"[49]

Mr. Wraxall immediately answered in the affirmative; and though he was on the point of returning to England, assured his visitor that he was ready to devote his labour, and risk his life, if necessary, in such a cause. Le Texier expressed his strong satisfaction at the reply; conjured Mr. Wraxall to be silent on everything that had passed, and undertook, without delay, to take measures for introducing Mr. Wraxall to the persons at whose request he had sounded him. Mr. le Texier then left his new ally, in order, as he said, to make his report to his friends, which they were expecting with anxiety and impatience.

On October 5, Mr. le Texier brought to Mr. Wraxall's lodgings the eldest son of Baron von Schimmelmann, and left them together. The baron, after exacting a solemn promise of secrecy, disclosed, not without marks of great agitation and apprehension, a project which had been formed for restoring the Queen of Denmark. He reminded his hearer that his life, his fortune (one of the greatest in reversion of any in Denmark), were entrusted to a stranger, as well as those of all the persons engaged in the undertaking. They then entered upon business; and the baron divulged the plans and the means by which it might be effected. At a second[181] interview on October 7, Baron von Schimmelmann informed Mr. Wraxall that, as he was on the point of setting out for Copenhagen, in order to arrange many circumstances preparatory to, and indispensable for, carrying out this plan, the latter would receive his further instructions from Baron von Bülow.

After several interviews with this nobleman, it was finally arranged that Mr. Wraxall should set out for Celle with all practicable despatch. But points of material consequence must previously be adopted. Among them, the most important were the agent's credentials and despatches. It was dangerous to commit anything to paper, as he might be stopped, searched, and discovered on the road, which, in more than one place, ran through the dominions of Denmark. On the other hand, it was indispensable to convince the queen that he was invested with powers to treat with her, on the part of the noblemen exiled to Altona, as well as other persons in various parts of the Danish territories. To obviate these difficulties, the following expedients were determined on:—

Baron von Bülow delivered to Mr. Wraxall in lieu of credentials a seal, with which, when in Queen Matilda's family, he was accustomed to seal those private or confidential communications that he often, from the nature of his office, had occasion to make to her. He assured Mr. Wraxall that, so soon as her Majesty should see it, she would have no doubt of his coming from the baron, and would have faith in what[182] he was empowered to impart. This seal was to be produced in the event of Caroline Matilda assenting to the plan.

The plan was, that a numerous and powerful party was disposed to restore her to the throne, and that they had invested Mr. Wraxall, as their agent and representative, with powers to treat with her. They were ready and willing to incur all the dangers or hazard annexed to such an enterprise, provided she, on her part, agreed to three conditions:—

First. That she assured them of her willingness to return to Denmark, and to assume the reins of government, which the king was incapacitated to direct in person.

Secondly. That she engaged to co-operate with, and to assist her adherents in every way and by every mode in her power.

Thirdly. That she would endeavour to induce the King of Great Britain, her brother, to extend his protection and assistance toward the success of the enterprise.

As for obvious reasons it would have been imprudent and hazardous to commit these propositions to paper, it was left to Mr. Wraxall to draw up a letter to the queen as soon as he arrived at Celle. It was likewise settled that, in order more effectually to evade suspicion or enquiry, he should, on leaving Celle, proceed to Hanover, as if on his way to Holland, and thence return by cross-roads to Hamburg. In[183] case her Majesty assented to the three propositions made her, Mr. Wraxall was authorized to name Baron von Bülow, and young Baron von Schimmelmann, as the two avowed chiefs of the proposed counter-revolution. No other names were entrusted to him, as these two were judged sufficient in this early stage of the business; eight days were calculated as adequate for the purposes of the mission, and a spot was fixed on in the city of Hamburg where Mr. Wraxall, on his return, should meet Baron von Bülow at a certain hour.

Thus authorized and instructed, the agent set out from Hamburg on the evening of October 8, 1774, travelled all night, and reached Celle on the ensuing evening. He learned immediately, to his great regret, that the Hereditary Princess of Brunswick was then in the castle, on a visit to her sister, the queen. Her presence augmented the difficulties of his errand, and the Danish nobility had warned him to be on his guard with respect to her. They dreaded lest the queen, from motives of affection and confidence, might communicate to her the nature or purpose of his errand. They were equally afraid of her suspecting or discovering it. These apprehensions were founded on the circumstance that the queen dowager of Denmark, Juliana Maria, was sister to the then reigning Duke of Brunswick, and aunt to the hereditary prince.

One great and important arrangement yet remained[184] to be made ere Mr. Wraxall could advance further,—the mode of delivering his despatches to the queen. It was hardly practicable to present a letter to her, except in public; and even to do that, a pretext was necessary, which might have, at least, an air of plausibility. Mr. Wraxall, while at Hamburg, had accidentally heard Mr. Mathias, the British minister, say that he might have occasion to write to her Majesty at Celle on the subject of a company of comedians, who were accustomed to repair thither annually in the autumn, to play for the amusement of the queen. Mr. Wraxall, therefore, determined to say that he was the bearer of such a letter from Mr. Mathias, of which he had taken charge on his way back to England, through Hanover and Holland. He was well aware that he should have the honour of an invitation to dine at her Majesty's table, and as no better mode of communicating his errand to her offered itself, he resolved to give the letter into the queen's hand in the drawing-room, when he should be presented to her before dinner.

Having formed this resolution, Mr. Wraxall sat down on the night of his arrival in Celle and drew up a despatch, addressed to her Majesty, in which he stated every circumstance relating to his mission. He entered into the requisite detail, only reserving the names of the noblemen who had sent him, until he should have the honour of being admitted to a private interview with the queen. He stated the conditions[185] demanded of her, and concluded by entreating her to favour him with as quick and explicit an answer as the nature of the subject would admit. He especially requested her Majesty to take some occasion of re-delivering his letter to him, for two reasons: one, that it might be unsafe for such a document to remain in her hands; the other, that the contents of it would be the best testimony to the persons for whom he was acting that he had accurately conceived and faithfully executed the purpose for which he was sent.

Conscious, nevertheless, that such a communication, made to the queen at a moment when she was totally unprepared for it, before witnesses and in the presence of the Hereditary Princess of Brunswick, might disconcert and agitate her, Mr. Wraxall felt the necessity of guarding against so dangerous an accident as far as possible. Hence he wrote on the first page of the letter the following words:—

"As the contents of the subsequent letter are of a nature which involve in them your Majesty's dearest interests, and even your crown and dignity, it is my duty earnestly to supplicate you, that you will be pleased on no consideration to peruse them at the present moment; but to read them when alone. I am likewise bound to entreat you that, as you regard the safety and welfare of those who are most devoted to your service, you will endeavour not to betray any agitation or emotion in your countenance or manner; and, above all, that you will observe the strictest precaution to pre[186]vent her Royal Highness the Princess of Brunswick from entertaining any suspicion."

These necessary and preparatory precautions having been taken, Mr. Wraxall called next morning on Baron von Seckendorf, the queen's chamberlain. Having mentioned that he had a letter for her Majesty from the English minister at Hamburg relative, as he understood, to the comedians who were accustomed to visit Celle in that season, the baron waited on the queen to inform her of the fact. Mr. Wraxall received an invitation to dine at court in consequence, and went at two o'clock to the castle. When the queen and the Princess of Brunswick came together out of their own apartments into the drawing-room, where the few persons who composed the court were assembled, her Majesty, advancing toward Mr. Wraxall, said:

"I am glad to see you here again: I understand that you have a letter for me from Mr. Mathias?"

Mr. Wraxall presented it, and the queen withdrew a few steps to a window to read it. At the same moment the princess addressed Mr. Wraxall, and he contrived to detain her in conversation while the queen was employed with the letter. He noticed her Majesty hastily put it in her pocket, while her face betrayed the agitation of her mind in the most visible manner. Fortunately, about that minute dinner was announced, and the company followed the queen into the eating-room.

At table, Caroline Matilda recovered herself, and[187] conversed with her usual freedom and gaiety. The queen and princess were seated in two state chairs, separated nearly five feet from each other. When the dessert was brought, the queen, unable any longer to restrain her curiosity and impatience, took the letter from her pocket, and, placing it in her lap, perused it from the beginning to the end. From time to time she raised her eyes, and took part in the conversation. The distance at which she was from the Princess of Brunswick rendered it impossible for the letter to be overlooked. After taking coffee, the two princesses withdrew, and Mr. Wraxall returned to the inn where he lodged.

In about three hours Baron von Seckendorf waited on him, and informed him that her Majesty had sent him in the quality of her confidential agent: that she had perused with great attention the letter, the contents of which she had communicated to him, and had chosen him from among the persons composing her court to conduct the business on her part. He added, that the queen would, with the utmost readiness, grant Mr. Wraxall that same night the audience he desired, if the presence of the princess her sister, who never quitted her for a moment, did not render it dangerous and impossible. She fully felt the necessity of caution, and the suspicions which even Mr. Wraxall's stay at Celle might occasion. Under these circumstances, she wished and enjoined Mr. Wraxall to deliver his credentials to Baron von Seckendorf, and confide to him[188] the names of the noblemen from whom he came, as well as every other particular not contained in the letter.

Thus authorized, and after receiving from Baron von Seckendorf his most solemn promises of fidelity and secrecy, Mr. Wraxall delivered to him Baron von Bülow's ring, and acquainted him with everything necessary to be laid before the queen. On the following morning the baron returned with the queen's answer, which Mr. Wraxall at once committed to paper in his presence. It was to the following effect:—

That her Majesty, being under the immediate protection, and depending on the king her brother, could not consent to any proposition involving her future destiny and interests, without obtaining his consent and approbation. That, if she only consulted her own tranquillity and happiness, she would never desire to revisit Copenhagen, where she had been so unworthily treated. But that the duties of a mother, and a queen, being superior to every other sentiment, impelled her not only to forgive these outrages, but to resume her station in Denmark. That, as far, therefore, as depended on herself, she agreed to the propositions made by the Danish nobility, provided it should appear to her, on further information, that they were sufficiently powerful to effect the intended counter-revolution. That she desired to be more fully informed at Mr. Wraxall's next visit of the names of the principal[189] persons concerned, and the means. Lastly, that she would write in the most pressing and strenuous manner to his Britannic Majesty, whenever it should be judged proper so to do, requesting of him to lend his aid and assistance toward effecting her restoration.

The queen, at the same time, returned Mr. Wraxall Baron Bülow's seal, which she had recognised, and the letter which he had addressed to herself. In conformity with a request Mr. Wraxall had made, the queen had subscribed on the first page of the letter the initials of her name C. M. She likewise inclosed it in a cover, addressed in her own handwriting to Baron von Bülow, and sealed with one of her private seals.

Baron von Seckendorf enjoined Mr. Wraxall from the queen to return as soon as possible to Celle, where she hoped to be able to admit him to an audience. She likewise desired that he would then give, on being stopped at the gates, a French name, which she suggested, as by that means, on seeing the report of all strangers who arrived at Celle, which was brought to her every morning, she should be apprised of his return. It was settled that on Mr. Wraxall's next visit to Celle he should take care to arrive in the night, go round the city, and lodge at a little obscure inn, called the "Sandkrug," in one of the suburbs.

Having received this satisfactory answer from her Majesty, Mr. Wraxall left Celle immediately and proceeded to Hanover, where he remained two days. He[190] then crossed a large portion of the Electorate to Harburg, and reached Hamburg on the evening of October 15, 1774. On the morning of the 17th he repaired to the place when Baron von Bülow had arranged to meet him. The latter affected not to notice him, and turning, Mr. Wraxall followed him through a number of streets, till they arrived on the ramparts of the city. There, upon a retired bastion, Mr. Wraxall delivered the baron the letter, whose seal and address he immediately recognised as those of the queen, saying, "Oui, bon, je reconnais bien cette écriture." Mr. Wraxall then related to him all the circumstances of his journey, the mode he employed to deliver his letter to the queen, and the subsequent interview with Baron von Seckendorf. The baron approved highly of all that had been done; promised to communicate the particulars, and the queen's reply to his associates; and requested Mr. Wraxall to hold himself in readiness to return to Celle.

During the next six days the couple contrived to meet several times, though in the meanwhile the baron made excursions into Holstein, in order to lay before his friends the state of the business, and to concert the most judicious means for carrying it on to the desired completion. On October 23, Mr. Wraxall received from him his instructions for his second journey to Celle. They were, as before, only verbal, and the agent was empowered to commit them to paper when he should arrive there, observing the same precautions[191] in receiving them back. They were to the following effect:—

"That the Danish nobility were grateful for, and perfectly satisfied with, the answer made by her Majesty to their proposals, and that they should proceed, in consequence, to concert measures for executing at a proper time the intended revolution in her favour. That Baron von Bülow, in addition to his own name, and that of young Baron von Schimmelmann, was empowered to vouch for Count von Laurvig, his father-in-law, the viceroy of Norway, who was to secure that kingdom and its capital, Christiania, for the queen. That old Baron von Schimmelmann, though he refused to take any active part in the enterprise, or to risk by any overt act his safety and fortune, was sincerely attached to the cause. That the governor of Glückstadt, one of the most important places and fortresses in Holstein, was disposed to aid the queen. That Rendsburg, the key of the duchy of Schleswig, would open its gates, as the party had secret adherents in the garrison, who would declare themselves, when it should prove necessary.

"That their friends were numerous and powerful in the army, the navy, the guards, in the metropolis, and even about the person of the king himself. But, that they besought her Majesty to repose on the honour and assurances given by Baron von Bülow, as representing the party, and entreated her not to insist on the disclosure of their names—a disclosure which could[192] be of little or no advantage or gratification to her, and which might be fatal to them. That they unanimously and earnestly requested her to write to the King of England immediately, and confide the letter to their agent, urging the indispensable necessity of his sending a minister to the court of Copenhagen, where there was then only a resident, and authorizing such minister to declare, at the time when the counter-revolution was being effected, that the King of Great Britain was acquainted with it, approved of it, and would maintain it with all his power.

"That, as considerable expenses must necessarily be incurred in conducting and executing a project of such magnitude and importance, they hoped that the King of Great Britain, if he approved of the attempt to restore his sister, would be graciously pleased to assist the persons engaged in her cause with some immediate pecuniary assistance. They besought the queen to recommend this object to her brother. That during the winter they would perform everything for striking the blow, and would, if the answer from England were favourable, proceed to execute it as soon in the ensuing spring as the two Belts should be free from ice, and the communication open between the island of Seeland and the mainland of Jütland.

"That they hoped her Majesty would be pleased to communicate to Baron von Bülow the tenor of her letter to the King of England, as on his reply, in a great measure, depended the progress and success of the enterprise. Baron von Bülow particularly enjoined[193] Mr. Wraxall to ask the queen whether she would consent to quit Celle and repair to Altona in disguise, if such a step should at a future time be thought expedient or necessary."

Previous to Mr. Wraxall's departure from Hamburg, he agreed on a meeting with Baron von Bülow, on October 28, at a posthouse in the wood of Zährendorf, a solitary hamlet nearly equi-distant from Celle and Altona. It was settled, that on leaving Celle, Mr. Wraxall should repair to Zährendorf, en route to Holland, and that the baron, disguised as a dealer in goods, should go to the same posthouse, without any attendant. As two travellers, it would be easy to meet and to pass some hours together, in so unfrequented a place, during the night.

This matter adjusted, Mr. Wraxall set out on October 23rd, but, in order to elude suspicion from passing the same road so frequently, he took the Lüneburg road. Between three and four o'clock in the morning of the 26th he reached the gates of Celle, and, after making use of the name suggested by the queen, drove round to the little inn in the suburbs. Baron von Seckendorf having set out on that very morning to pay a visit to Hanover, Mr. Wraxall was obliged to send an express to him, acquainting him with his arrival, and requesting his immediate return. After which, Mr. Wraxall remained concealed in the inn the whole day, and employed himself in drawing up his despatch to her Majesty.

Early on the following morning the baron entered Mr. Wraxall's room, and informed him, to his no small satisfaction, that the Princess of Brunswick was not then in Celle. Mr. Wraxall delivered his letters for the queen, which the baron went immediately to the castle to deliver. About four hours after he returned, and desired Mr. Wraxall to go without the loss of a moment to the Jardin François, a large garden without the city belonging to the Elector of Hanover, where her Majesty would go to meet him. He had not arrived there more than ten minutes when the queen drove up in her coach. She sent away the carriage and all her attendants, except one lady, who remained the whole time. The interview lasted about an hour, during the greater part of which they walked in one of the private vistas of the garden. Toward the end of it, the queen took Mr. Wraxall into a pavilion where a dessert of fruit was laid, and he then withdrew by her Majesty's permission.[50] The substance of the conversation was of so important a nature that I feel bound to quote it in extenso.

Having attentively perused the letter which I had written to her in the name and by order of the Danish nobility, she was perfectly satisfied with it in every particular. That the persons named as engaged in the cause were sufficient to inspire confidence, and that, relying in a special manner on the attachment, zeal, and talents of Baron von Bülow, she would dispense with his divulging the names of any more of his associates. That in compliance equally with their desire and with her own wishes, she would, without loss of time, write to her brother. That, if the time permitted, she would readily give in a copy of her intended letter to be shown Baron von Bülow for his satisfaction, and that of his friends; but that, as my interview with him in the wood of Zährendorf was to take place on the following day, and could not be postponed, she must of necessity delay writing the letter. That she would, therefore, send it by the royal Hanoverian courier, who would set out for London in two days, a conveyance, the expedition and safety of which might be relied on.

That, by so doing, his Britannic Majesty would not only be apprised of my intended arrival, but also of my errand, and, as she hoped, be disposed to give me a prompt and favourable reply. That Baron von Bülow might trust to her for writing with energy and[196] earnestness. That she would press her brother to send a minister to Copenhagen without delay, and would, in a peculiar manner, urge the necessity of advancing to the party engaged in her restoration a sum of money. That she thought Baron von Bülow must know her well enough to be convinced that she was ready to repair to her friends in any disguise that could be pointed out; but she was persuaded the king her brother would never permit it. Still, she added, could I come, or did I come disguised, nobody would know me, as I am much altered since I was in Denmark.

Her Majesty entered on the state of her own finances, and lamented to me that the limited nature of her income, as well as some debts which she had contracted in Holland, rendered it impossible for her to contribute herself toward a cause in which she was so deeply interested. That she had not any jewels, the Danes having taken from her everything of that kind on her quitting Denmark. She was pleased to express her regret at not having it in her power to give me any testimony of her approbation, but she assured me of her future protection and recommendation to the King of Great Britain. "You must," she said, "go very quietly to work with my brother; if we manage with address, he will favour the attempt; but it will be tacitly, not openly."

Her Majesty gave me very minute instructions for my conduct, in case I should have the honour to be[197] admitted by the king to an audience in London. She moreover charged me with some private and confidential things relative to her sister, the Princess of Brunswick, which she enjoined me, on no consideration, to impart to any one, except to the king himself, and not even to him, unless I should see an opening to do it with a prospect of good.

On the mode and channel by which I should approach his Britannic Majesty, she told me she had reflected seriously, and, after mature deliberation, had determined on the following course:—That by the Hanoverian courier she would write to Lord Suffolk, then secretary of state for the northern department, and whose conduct toward her at the time of the revolution in Denmark, she said, merited her utmost regard. That she would only say in her letter to him, that "a gentleman, Mr. Wraxall, would shortly wait on him, charged, on her part, with a very secret and important commission. That she requested him to give credit to everything communicated to him by Mr. Wraxall, and, above all, to aid and accelerate by every means in his power the object of that commission."

As, however, it might be, she conceived, more grateful to the king, her brother, that a negotiation so delicate and so peculiar should be transacted through a private, rather than through a public, channel; she likewise determined to write, by the Hanoverian courier, to the Baron von Lichtenstein. That nobleman, who occupied the post of marshal of the court of Hanover,[198] was, she said, then on a visit to England. He had the honour to be much distinguished by the king, and he had given many proofs of his devotion to her interests; she, therefore, would write to him to the same effect as to Lord Suffolk, leaving me at liberty, according to my discretion, to apply to either on my arrival in London, but preferring, as far as regarded her own predilection, the medium of Lord Suffolk. She enjoined me, further, to write to her after I had met Baron von Bülow, and likewise from England, only observing, in both cases, the precaution of enclosing my letters, under cover, to Baron von Seckendorf.

During the evening, Mr. Wraxall called on Baron von Seckendorf, from whom be received a minute of the proposed letter to the King of England, sent by the queen, which he would communicate to Baron von Bülow. At ten o'clock at night, Mr. Wraxall started for Zährendorf, which place he reached in the ensuing afternoon. A short time before nightfall, the baron arrived, dressed as a tradesman, in an open post-waggon. The couple passed more than eight hours together. Mr. Wraxall gave the baron the documents; the latter approved of every measure taken, and authorized Mr. Wraxall to assure the queen so by letter, as well as to renew to her, in the name of the party, every possible protestation of[199] zeal and adherence. He also begged Mr. Wraxall to hasten back from England as soon as he could, and to be assured of the gratitude of those persons in whose service he was engaged.[51]

About one in the morning the baron and Mr. Wraxall parted. Previous to the separation, the latter received a cypher for the future correspondence, which it was agreed should be carried on under cover to Mr. le Texier, as less likely to excite suspicion, and that all Mr. Wraxall's letters should be addressed to Mr. Matthiesen, at Hamburg. The baron then returned to Altona, by the same conveyance which had brought him, and the next morning Mr. Wraxall started for England viâ Osnabrück. In the latter city he had a trifling adventure, which seems extracted from Casanova's Memoirs. I will give it in his own words:—

"I walked over the town, and returned to dinner at four. At about six my servant announced a "gentleman," who would do himself the honour of speaking to me. He came in, sat down, and stayed an hour. [200]He requested me to sup with him and Monsieur le Comte de Marazzani and his lady. I excused myself on account of fatigue. He spoke English, French, Russian, Italian, Latin: he was young, apparently of my own age. Finding I would not accept his invitation, he took leave, first telling me he was the Baron de Stampe, a German nobleman. I was, I must own, a little surprised at his visit and manner of introducing himself—'twas odd!

"Tuesday, November 1.—I went, at about nine, to visit the count, countess, and baron. 'Twas a miserable apartment I was shown into. Madame la Comtesse was a little woman, very young, pretty in face, and her complexion fair. I kissed her hand, and must avow she had a very fine hand. They pressed me to stay dinner, or at least to remain in Osnabrück till two or three o'clock, after which time they would, if necessary, submit to losing me. I saw at once the deception. She squeezed my hand, and added a thousand pressing instances to induce me to stay. I pleaded urgent business. The count insisted on accompanying me to the inn, and would not be refused. When we arrived, he walked in, told me in a few words that he just then was in need of a little money, that his letters of credit were not arrived, that his servant had stolen seventy guineas and his lady's gold watch; that, therefore, he must request me to lend him a few ducats. I pitied him, and, had my fortunes been sufficient, would not have hesitated an instant to have given him[201] what he asked. But I could not, for I had not even enough to permit me diminishing my stock, and most frankly told him so. He reasoned the point, pressed, requested, but 'twas impossible to comply, so he very politely took leave, promising to visit me in England. I might, I am convinced, have received the payment from Madame la Comtesse—there was the temptation, but with such adventurers was too dangerous. They might have served me a worse trick than Don Raphael and Lamela did by poor Gil Blas, and I might have had more reason to remember the Countess Marazzani than he had Doña Camilla. 'Twas a droll adventure: doubtless their intention was to have won my money by cards or love."

On November 13, Mr. Wraxall embarked from Helvoetsluys, and arrived at Harwich on the following day. To quote his own words: "This day shall ever be sacred in my calendar. I had now finished my tour through the northern kingdoms, and was once more in my native country, after being absent seven months and three days, from the 10th of April last. I returned thanks to the protecting gods who had carried me, unhurt, through so many barbarous nations and Polar regions."

CHAPTER VII.
'TWIXT THE CUP AND THE LIP.

As the queen, in her instructions to Mr. Wraxall at Celle, had left it entirely at his option, on his arrival in London, to wait either on Lord Suffolk or Baron von Lichtenstein, though expressing a degree of preference for the former, he went, on November 15, to Lord Suffolk's residence in Downing Street. Being admitted, a private secretary requested Mr. Wraxall to inform him of the nature of his business: Lord Suffolk not only being confined to his bed-chamber by gout, but unable, from the violence of his disorder, to see any one. Mr. Wraxall informed him, in answer,[203] that as his business was of a nature which could only be communicated to Lord Suffolk in person, he would call again in a day or two, by which time his lordship might be able to see him.

Conceiving it, however, injudicious to lose a moment that could be avoided in opening the object of his mission, Mr. Wraxall went directly to the lodgings of Baron von Lichtenstein, in Chidleigh Court, Pall Mall. The baron was at home, and so soon as the agent acquainted him with his name, he expressed his satisfaction at Mr. Wraxall's arrival; he produced the queen's letter announcing the intended visitor, and assured the latter that it would be as much his wish as he felt it his duty to comply with the Queen of Denmark's commands. He added, that so soon as Mr. Wraxall should have put him in possession of the necessary facts, he would endeavour to find an occasion for laying the whole matter before the king.

Mr. Wraxall informed the baron of his having been at Lord Suffolk's house, but that he had not seen his lordship on account of his indisposition. The baron entreated him not to call again on Lord Suffolk till he should have seen his Majesty, and taken his pleasure on that point, which he promised to do, as far as depended on himself, without delay. In a long and confidential conversation, Mr. Wraxall laid before the baron the proposals made to the queen by the Danish nobility, her answer, and the objects intended to be effected by his present errand to George III. The[204] baron reiterated his assurances of co-operating toward their success, and fixed a day for Mr. Wraxall coming again to him, to know how he had proceeded in the business.

Three days afterwards, the two gentlemen had a second interview, when the baron stated that he had conversed with his Majesty at the queen's house on the matter; that he had to communicate to Mr. Wraxall, in the first place, the king's positive injunctions not to mention the object of his journey and negotiations to Lord Suffolk, but to consider him (Baron von Lichtenstein) as the sole medium through which all matters relative thereto were to pass to the king. His Majesty had received the queen his sister's letters by the Hanoverian courier, and would maturely consider their contents before he should give any answer to them. To prevent any reflections on the part of the court of Copenhagen at his having seen and conversed with an agent of the Danish nobility and the queen, in case that the present attempt were either discovered or found unsuccessful, the king judged it fit not to admit Mr. Wraxall to a personal interview. It was therefore his pleasure that Mr. Wraxall should communicate to him on paper, through Baron von Lichtenstein, every circumstance touching the business; explaining the causes and reasons which had induced the exiled nobility at Altona to confide to his honour so secret and delicate a matter.

His Majesty also desired to know from Mr. Wraxall[205] the names of the principal persons concerned in the enterprise, and the precise time, mode, and place, when and by which they proposed to accomplish the queen's restoration. Baron von Lichtenstein added, that his Majesty manifested favourable dispositions, but would give no opinion till he was enabled to judge of the means possessed by the queen's adherents to carry their proposals into effect.

Thus commanded, Mr. Wraxall sat down and drew up a statement of the whole transaction, going into every point suggested by the king. In so doing, he pointed out, to the best of his judgment or information, the manner in which the queen's adherents had laid their plan for the counter-revolution. Mr. Wraxall, however, was compelled to avow his ignorance of many parts of their future plan, either as having never been entrusted to him, or as being in their own nature incapable of arrangement till the time of their accomplishment approached. Mr. Wraxall transmitted this paper to the king through Baron von Lichtenstein.

On October 5, Mr. Wraxall received the king's answer to the propositions, which the baron communicated to him. It was verbal, and to the following effect:—

"His Majesty, relying on the means possessed by the Danish nobility attached to the queen his sister to effect her restoration, and having thoroughly considered their plans, consented to and approved of the[206] intended attempt in her favour. But the existing treaties between the two courts of Copenhagen and St. James's did not allow him to lend any direct assistance toward its execution. He, therefore, would not advance any money at present, though he would not object to guarantee the restitution of the sums necessarily expended in his sister's restoration, after the completion of the enterprise. Finally, he should not be induced by any entreaties of the queen, or by the applications of the Danish nobility, to affix his signature to a paper promising aid, or even expressing his approbation of the attempt itself."[52]

By Baron von Lichtenstein's advice, Mr. Wraxall transmitted on the following day this answer of the king to Baron von Bülow, in cypher: desiring directions for his future conduct. Mr. Wraxall also communicated it to the queen and to Baron von Seckendorf. From the latter, he received an answer on January 3, 1775, expressing the queen's satisfaction at the king's consent, though she regretted the qualifications which accompanied it.

In consequence of Baron von Bülow's absence from Hamburg, and other impediments, Mr. Wraxall did not receive his answer till January 20, 1775: it was very short, and in cypher. The baron conjured Mr. Wraxall not to lose a moment in returning to Hamburg[207] with the king's approbation of their conduct, authenticated in whatever way might be practicable. He added, that his friends were busied in preparing everything for the expected blow, and that their anticipations of success were sanguine.[53] This letter Mr. Wraxall communicated at once to Baron von Lichtenstein, and its contents were laid before the king.

On January 23, Baron von Lichtenstein informed Mr. Wraxall that the king would despatch him, in a few days, to Celle and Hamburg, adding, that he had reason to believe his Majesty intended to empower him (Lichtenstein) to sign certain articles, of which Mr. Wraxall should be the bearer, and which would, in a great measure, satisfy the Danish nobility. It was not till February 2 that Mr. Wraxall received his final orders and despatches; they were delivered to him by the baron, and consisted of a letter from the king to his sister, together with a paper containing four articles. The baron drew these up in Mr. Wraxall's presence; after which he affixed his seal and signature to them, as representing the King of Great Britain. The articles were to the following effect:—

First. His Britannic Majesty gives his consent and approval to the plan concerted by the adherents of his[208] sister, the Queen of Denmark, for restoring her to the throne.

Secondly. His Britannic Majesty insists that, in the execution of it, no blood be spilled, nor any measures of severity exercised toward the present administration in Denmark, except such as are indispensable to maintain the counter-revolution.

Thirdly. His Britannic Majesty guarantees the repayment of all the money advanced or expended in the necessary prosecution of the Queen of Denmark's revolution.

Fourthly. His Britannic Majesty will authorize and empower his Resident at the court of Copenhagen to declare, in the most public manner, so soon as the revolution in favour of the queen is accomplished, that the King of Great Britain approves of it, and will maintain it against all opposition.

Baron von Lichtenstein, when he had placed in Mr. Wraxall's hands these articles, which the latter saw him seal up, and place in a cover without an address, signified to him his Majesty's pleasure that he should set out on the following day for Celle. After delivering his letter to the queen, and the articles, signed in his name, for her perusal, Mr. Wraxall would receive the latter back from the queen, and proceed with them to the Danish nobility at Hamburg.

Accordingly, on the afternoon of February 3, 1775, Mr. Wraxall left London, embarked at Harwich, and landed at Helvoetsluys on the evening of the 6th. Passing through Holland by Utrecht and Deventer, he[209] arrived on Sunday morning, the 12th, at daybreak, at the bank of the little river Dinckel, which divides the provinces of Over-Yssel from the circle of Westphalia. From this point, the "Private Journal" shall speak for itself, until the traveller arrives at Celle:—

February 12th.—I arrived at the house near the bank of the Dinckel as day broke: here I found the royal courier, who came over in the same packet with me from England. He had arrived here on Friday morning, but the waters were so deep that he had not dared to attempt the passage, with two carts laden with boxes and coffers. The inn was misery itself: oxen, pigs, men, and women all together. The courier assured me, that if he had not provided himself with provisions very amply, he should have been almost starved, nothing being procurable from the people. When I had drunk my chocolate, we walked forward half a quarter of a mile, to reconnoitre the spot, and see if it was practicable to pass over. After a long debate, the landlord of the house offered, for a few stivers, to mount one of the four horses, and endeavour to conduct us through it. In consequence of this resolution, they raised my trunks, by putting straw and turf under them to move them five feet from the surface of the ground, to prevent the water from spoiling my clothes. They would have persuaded me to get up behind the carriage, as, in case it overturned, I[210] might then have easily disengaged myself; but, notwithstanding, I got in: as to my clothes and linen, I trusted them cheerfully to fortune, and only reserved the letter with which I was charged, which I carried in my bosom, resolved that it should not perish, except with myself. We drove off about noon from the inn. When we came to the place, the two fore horses plunged in; the water was as high as their backs, how much deeper it might be I cannot pretend to say, as they immediately swam: the carriage floated likewise, and the horses drew it about twelve or fourteen paces in this manner, when we touched ground, and all the danger was over. Had there been a very violent stream or had not the horses done their part, the chaise must have inevitably been overturned—nothing could have saved it.

* * * * * * Continuing my route from Bentheim, I got in the evening at about eight o'clock to Rheine. The roads were terrible, and I trembled continually for my own and my servant's safety. The moon, however, was our protection, and under her auspices and guidance we arrived safe. We passed through another small river, which was swollen with the rains to the breadth of three or four hundred paces. Happily, however, the depth was not above three or four feet, and we got through without any accident. The country all round us was deluged with water, and scarce appeared like land. Rheine is a small town belonging to the bishopric of Münster,[211] not fortified, though surrounded with old walls. The postmaster appeared to be an obliging man, and the horses being ready, I set out at about ten o'clock at night. I had not driven more than a mile from the place when the carriage overturned; my servant's hand was cut by the glasses, which broke in pieces, but I escaped unhurt. The horses stood still, without attempting to drag the chaise, which, had they done, the consequences to us must have been very fatal, as some minutes elapsed ere we could get out at the windows.

I despatched my servant back to the town for assistance, and the postilion to a neighbouring village on the same errand, while I remained alone with the carriage. My servant returned first, after an hour's absence, with an old man, the postmaster not choosing, or not being willing, to afford him any more help. We waited, therefore, for the postilion, who came at length, to our great joy, with four villagers, by whose endeavours we raised the carriage up once more, and returned to Rheine about midnight. I am most fully of opinion that the postilion did it purposely, and probably by his master's orders. The postmaster's behaviour justified this conjecture: he neither blamed the man, nor promised me any satisfaction; he only told me I had better forget it, and go to bed in his house. I did so, for what other course could I take in a country where I spoke the language very imperfectly, and in which I was absolutely at their mercy?[212] To proceed without glasses at this season of the year, in the night, was not agreeable; and even if I would, the postmaster said he could give me no other postilion till the next morning, and to set out with the same would have been madness. I was tempted to severely chastise the driver myself, but the consequences which might have ensued deterred me. So I lay down in a miserable apartment, as large as an Egyptian hall, where the winds whistled in every corner. I made my servant lie in the same room, and held my pistols ready, but all was very tranquil during the night. Why the landlord should wish to overset my carriage, unless to make me return, and get a couple of guilders for my lodging, I do not know, but I am convinced it was a concerted affair.

February 13th.—The morning began most inauspiciously. It rained very hard, and blew with equal violence. I thought of the poor courier, who would be prevented by it from passing the Dinckel. I set out once more at eight o'clock from Rheine in this dismal weather and without glasses, not any being procurable at the place. It was, indeed, a terrifying view on all sides, and resembled a deluge or inundation. I recommended myself to God, and comforted myself by the thought that I undertook the journey in the service of my royal mistress. That I was not repeatedly overturned was almost a miracle; and had I been so in the great pieces of standing water through which I passed, the consequences might[213] have been of the worst sort. I crossed the little river Aá, which was likewise swollen by the rain to a considerable size. I got at one o'clock to Ippenburen; from this place I had only eighteen miles to Osnabrück, but the road was so horribly bad that all I had yet seen sunk before it. A peasant who accompanied us on foot about four miles from Ippenburen supported the carriage at different places with his hands, or we must have been overset. The torrents of rain which had fallen made the highway so soft that the wheels sank up to the axletrees at every step. There were great holes made in the middle of the road large enough to take a man and horse. In other places it was so rough, I expected each moment that the axletrees, wheels, or brancards must go to pieces. We crossed two very dangerous waters by moonlight, in one of which a single inch more on one side must have precipitated us into a river, where we should, I think, have been both inevitably drowned. How we escaped and got safe to Osnabrück I do not know. In the bitterness of my heart, tired with such incessantly-repeated dangers and vexations, I cursed the errand, and swore that I would never again undertake a journey through Westphalia in the winter, let the inducement be what it would; but this was only momentary, and now I am ready, at my sovereign's command, to return through all if it should be necessary. 'Twas near ten o'clock at night when I reached Osnabrück, to my no small comfort. I was fatigued[214] and sore with the continued shaking of the carriage; I wanted glasses to my chaise; I wanted repose; so I determined to stay the night.

The landlord of the inn, after congratulating me on my safe arrival, implored me not to attempt to pass the river Weser at Stolzenau, which is the straight road to Hanover, but rather to go round ten miles by Minden, where there is a bridge across it. He showed me a letter he had just received from there, which said that the Weser was swollen to a prodigious size; that twenty-two dead bodies had been taken up at the bridge, floating on the water; that the danger of passing in a boat was extreme, and the inundation beyond any ever remembered. This induced me, though reluctantly, to take his advice as the safest, or at least the most certain in every point of view.

About one o'clock in the afternoon I left Osnabrück, and arrived at Boomele, which is fifteen miles distant, at six. The road was, if possible, yet worse than all I had hitherto seen or passed, but of a different kind, in some measure. There were no dangerous waters or rivers; but such numbers of stones, and of so prodigious a size, that it appeared astonishing in the highest degree that the carriage was not totally demolished by them. I started at eight for Diepenau, which is twenty English miles, but did not arrive there till half-past five the next morning. I had here occasion for all my courage to support me. The postmaster obliged me to take six horses, and they were[215] indeed most necessary. The country was all covered with water like a lake; and I passed through a horse-pond, where I expected every instant to be overset, and in which the horses were almost up to their shoulders. At length we came to two vast hollows, not less than four-and-twenty feet deep, and in which a great quantity of water had collected. Here I got out, as did my servant. The postilions carried us on their shoulders through it, the carriage followed, but I never expected to see it come out, at least, without being broken to pieces. It did get through, notwithstanding, to my astonishment; yet, at many other places I dreaded every instant to be overturned at the hazard of my life. Still, I proceeded, encouraged by the moon, which shone very brightly, and was indeed my protectress amid so many and so repeated dangers. Yet the continued anxiety of mind which prevented me from closing my eyes, and the violent exercise of the body in such horrid roads—if roads they could with propriety be called—at length wearied and fatigued me beyond belief. I wished to be at the end of my journey. I wished I had never undertaken it; I almost lost that animating principle, that enthusiasm and hope, which had borne me up and made me with joy devote myself to every untoward accident. In a word, I felt that I could brave death, but not mental and corporeal agitation unusually continued. But what could I do? I had passed the Rubicon.

Wednesday, February 15th.—In this frame of mind, after waiting from five till three for horses at Diepenau, I again got into the carriage; where to go, however, I really knew not. There were only three roads to choose. If I went to Minden, which was only ten miles distant, I could indeed get there and pass the Weser by the bridge; but then they were unanimously agreed that the road from Minden to Hanover was not practicable, or to be attempted. I would have gone north to Nienburg, and have passed the Weser by that bridge, but it was impossible; the Weser had inundated the road, overflowed the bridge, left holes big enough to hold a house in the highway; and there were at this time more than two hundred carts belonging to the peasants which could not get out of the town. The last resource was to go on straight to Stolzenau, and attempt, at all events, to cross by boat to Leese on the eastern side. I embraced this last proposal in consequence of the courier's advice, and followed his waggons. While I was meditating on so many vexatious circumstances, and going slowly along the pavé in the village of Diepenau, unsuspicious at that moment of any immediate accident or danger, the postilion turned the carriage short round a corner and flung it into a deep ditch. By a good fortune, however, which never totally abandoned me, the chaise just being in equilibrium, and a peasant running up came just at the instant it was tumbling over, and supported it with[217] the greatest difficulty with his hands till more assistance arrived.

I must own, I thought myself lost, and do assuredly believe that, if the chaise had fallen over, the violence must have broken it in pieces, and both myself and my valet would in all probability have been cut most miserably, or been possibly killed on the spot. I jumped out of the carriage the instant I could. I drew my hanger, and, in the transports of my resentment, I should most assuredly have made the postilion remember, as long as he lived, his carelessness; but the fellow was gone far beyond my reach long even before I could get out. The villagers helped out the chaise, and happily no material injury was done it. This provoking accident filled up the measure of my vexations. To have my life and limbs every moment in extreme danger—to suffer by roads, by villany, by heedlessness, by water, by a train of obstacles which increased instead of diminishing—the river Weser before me, and yet to be passed—I lost all patience, I believe I shed tears of anger and sorrow. "In the name of Heaven!" I said to myself, "am I destined to perish in one of these confounded ditches? And is this message, for which I so eagerly wished, to be the last I shall ever carry?"

I trembled as I once more entered the carriage, which I began to think was no other than my coffin. Another postilion mounted, and I fairly told him that if he overset me I would put him to death on the spot,[218] whatever consequences might ensue. I abandoned myself to fortune; worn and oppressed by such continued exertions, my senses sank under it, and though in momentary expectation of being again overturned, I yet fell asleep for a few minutes. I arrived safe, notwithstanding, at Stolzenau, and walked down, accompanied by the courier, to view the Weser. What a sight! it was more than a mile and a half wide, and ran with vast rapidity. The meadows, the very hedges all under water, and extending quite to the village of Leese on the other side. I was determined, if I died, to attempt the passage. I agreed instantly with some boatmen to take me and my carriage over in a boat. They would not go that night, but agreed to carry me to-morrow morning at six o'clock. So I shall see some end to my misadventures. I write this from Stolzenau. The courier left all his waggons, for it was totally impossible to get them over in any manner, and went away with his letters only to Hanover in a small boat. I wrote to Baron von Seckendorf by him, telling him where I was, and my resolution, my fixed determination, at all events, to cross to-morrow, for I preferred anything to remaining in a vile inn, in a horrid village, with the Weser in full view. At this moment my mind has somewhat recovered, and I am calm and tranquil—yet some termination I will see to these cursed disasters. And now for some rest. Sleep will, I doubt not, be the kindest friend and restorer to me in nature.

February 16.—Why should I quarrel so with fortune? why complain, when as yet she smiles upon me? True, the roads are terrible, and the dangers numerous beyond belief; but am I not already past the worst, and hastening to a queen? This reflection ought to be alone sufficient in every situation.

I got into my carriage, which was placed in a little boat, at about seven in the morning, and, leaving Stolzenau, in about an hour and a half I reached the opposite dry land, and set my foot again on shore. I passed through meadows and fields, where the tops of the hedges and the trees began to appear above the surface of the water for nearly a mile, perhaps more. The inundation was amazingly extensive, and reminded me of Deucalion's deluge. It cost me, I think, about a ducat to cross over from Stolzenau. The water reached to about a quarter of a mile from Leese, where the post is situate. I proceeded, as soon as I had drunk my coffee, for Hanover, and got to Hazelberg, which is twelve miles from Leese, at about three in the afternoon. The weather was beautiful, but the road tremendous. I know not by what continued series of fortunate chances we were not upset. I continued my journey, and arrived safe at Hanover at about ten at night. This part of the Electorate, from the Weser to Hanover, is the most beautiful I have seen, and finely cultivated; but of all the roads conceivable, none ever, I believe, exceeded this in badness. I drove in continual danger of my life, and, really, several times, in[220] the deep waters through which I passed, prepared myself for instant death.

February 17.—I left Hanover about noon, and took the road for Zell. I do not believe the whole distance is more than twenty-two or three English miles, though it is called five German ones. I arrived at Engsen, which is exactly half way, as night set in. The road was still the same; it was not worse, but one can hardly say it was better. I waited for the moon to rise, and then proceeded for Zell. I arrived there at ten o'clock, but that I ever did arrive is wonderful. One half of the road from Engsen, which is five miles, lay almost entirely through water, and in many places so deep, so wide, and so long, as might have inspired terror in the boldest heart; but my near approach to the place of my destination gave me courage, and supported me through everything. Once, though, we were just lost in the water. The carriage balanced, and the balance was in our favour. I thought of William Rufus crossing into Normandy, and the boatmen. "Rascals," said he, "did you ever know a king drowned?" "Was ever," I thought, "young man drowned in sight of his port?" I drove to the same inn where I had been concealed before, and gave the same name to the guard.

On the following morning, Mr. Wraxall acquainted Baron von Seckendorf with his arrival. The latter[221] received the agent with the warmest marks of joy and gladness, informed him that her Majesty, who was apprised of his arrival by the name given at the gates, expected him with impatience, and that she had already taken measures to admit him to an audience that same afternoon. "When you hear the palace clock strike four," the baron said, "set out from the inn, on foot, for the castle. Mantel, the queen's valet, will wait to receive you, and conduct you to her."

Mr. Wraxall delivered to the baron the despatches for her Majesty, and went at the appointed hour to the palace. Mantel was waiting, and carried him round the great court through a number of apartments to a room, where he was left alone. At one end of it was a staircase communicating with the queen's chamber. In a minute afterwards, Caroline Matilda came in, and her reception of her agent was most gracious. The account of the interview shall be told from the "Journal:"—

"We conversed till about ten minutes past six, entirely alone, and in the most unreserved, undisguised manner. Her Majesty made me the recital of her reign, of the revolution, of her own conduct on that fatal night when she lost her crown. I listened in silence and astonishment. What an avowal, what a recapitulation did she not make me! Her words are for ever graven on my heart. I could repeat her story almost verbatim. I know what scarce any other man on earth can know. I must own, her unreserve, her[222] goodness, her minute detail of circumstances the most concealed in their nature, my situation quite alone with her, superadded to some consciousness still more affecting, made me more than once forget I was talking to a queen. She was dressed in a brown silk Polonaise, trimmed with green silk. Her hair powdered. A locket on her bosom. Her under-lip is too large, but her teeth are fine, and that family violence in speaking becomes her. Her nose is finely shaped, and her eyes are eloquent. She is thinner in the face than she was last October. She showed me his Majesty's letters to her, and permitted me to carry an extract from one away with me. She was obliged to leave me soon after six, which, otherwise, she seemed in no way inclined to do. Her talents are very good, and in mimicry she excels. Her specimen of Prince Frederick of Denmark was excellent. She went, and I remained ten minutes alone. The valet came again and conducted me to a distant chamber of the palace, where the baron attended my coming. We conversed together till near eight, then I returned home. The baron himself conducted me to a private staircase, by which I descended into the great court, and thence, under cover of the night, got home undiscovered. This was one of the singular days of my life!"

Mr. Wraxall passed nearly the whole of the next day with Baron von Seckendorf, who returned him the articles from the queen, enclosed in a cover addressed by herself to Baron von Bülow, and sealed[223] with her own cypher. She also transmitted to him assurances calculated to confirm the zeal of her adherents. Mr. Wraxall proceeded toward Hamburg on the same night, though the country between it and Celle was almost everywhere under water. Crossing the Elbe, he arrived at Hamburg on the evening of February 21, 1775, after a hazardous and fatiguing journey.

On the following day he wrote to Baron von Bülow, by means of Monsieur le Texier, informing him of his return. The baron came to Mr. Wraxall on February 23, about noon, and expressed great joy at his safe arrival. The agent then delivered the papers containing the articles to the baron, who perused them many times with the deepest attention. Of the two first articles he expressed the highest approbation. He regretted that the King of England would not advance any pecuniary assistance toward accomplishing his sister's restoration. But he lamented much more that the fourth article only stipulated or promised, on the part of his Britannic Majesty, to avow the revolution after it should be effected, instead of making that avowal during the time that it should be actually executing.

"We must, however," the baron exclaimed, "transmit the articles to our associates at Copenhagen, and receive their reply. That alone can enable us to form our determination respecting the line to be pursued."

The baron then asked Mr. Wraxall if he should be[224] willing to undertake the commission of carrying the articles to Copenhagen, which he assured him he would do at an hour's warning. After thanking the agent for so unequivocal a proof of his attachment to the cause, and admonishing him to be on his guard, as they were surrounded by spies, the baron left, promising to return on the next day.

When they met on the 24th, the baron informed Mr. Wraxall that, having maturely reflected on the proposition he had made the latter of going to Copenhagen, and having consulted two of his friends upon it, they were unanimously of opinion not to hazard such an experiment. Mr. Wraxall being known in that capital, his return to it must, in the present state of affairs, excite inquiry, and might expose the enterprise itself to discovery or suspicion. They had, therefore, already selected for that commission a gentleman attached to the cause, who would set out immediately. He would return with all possible despatch, but, as the passage of the two Belts was always uncertain in winter, it might probably require two, or even three, weeks to receive an answer. During this time the baron requested Mr. Wraxall, in the name of the party, to remain quietly in Hamburg.

On March 14, Baron von Bülow came to Mr. Wraxall and informed him that the expected answer from Copenhagen had arrived. "It is," he said, "exactly such as I predicted and anticipated. Our friends had hoped that his Britannic Majesty would have authorised his Resident to have come forward[225] at the time that they were effecting the counter-revolution; and that, as representing the king his sovereign, he would, in that critical and decisive moment, have been empowered openly to avow and justify it. This is the only request they make. They know that they are powerful enough to accomplish the queen's recall, but to maintain it may be their difficulty."

"At the instant when the queen dowager and her son, Prince Frederick, are put under confinement in their own apartments, when the principal ministers are arrested, and the King of Denmark's order obtained for Queen Matilda's immediate return to Copenhagen, all eyes will be turned upon the conduct of the British Resident. If he shuts the gates of his hôtel, and remains a silent or a passive spectator of so great a change, men will naturally conceive that his court and his master are unacquainted with, if not adverse to, the enterprise itself. It is even possible that, encouraged by such inaction on the part of the English representative, the adherents of the queen dowager may attempt, while the counter-revolution is yet scarcely completed, to overturn it, or to excite the populace of Copenhagen to insurrection. We may be the victims of the King of England's reserve.

"But if, on the contrary, while Queen Matilda's friends are achieving the counter-revolution, the English Resident goes to the palace, avows his master's approbation of it, and adds, that every attempt to overturn[226] it, or to impede his sister's recall, will excite the resentment of his Britannic Majesty, who will support it, if necessary, by force: all ranks of men will remain in profound submission. The party is, therefore, determined to draw up a letter to the above effect, addressed to the King of England in their joint names, and to limit their requests to this single point. That granted, they are ready, without delay, to proceed to action."

Before they parted, it was settled that Baron von Bülow should draw up the letter in question, and that as soon as matters were arranged Mr. Wraxall should return once more to Celle, and thence to England.

As George III. had made choice of Baron von Lichtenstein as the medium through which all immediate communications to him on the subject of the queen his sister should pass, it was highly important to apprise the baron of this intention. Mr. Wraxall accordingly wrote to him on the same day by the post, expressing in very few words that, on account of some circumstances which had arisen, he would probably see Mr. Wraxall again in London early in the ensuing month. The writer added, that if, unfortunately, the baron should have quitted England before his return, he relied on his leaving accurate directions in writing how to proceed in the affair. Mr. Wraxall also wrote to Baron von Seckendorf, apprising him that he might be expected again in Celle in a few days.

On March 20, Baron von Bülow delivered Mr.[227] Wraxall the letter for the King of Great Britain. It was not signed by him or by any of the party, on account of the danger incurred by such a signature. But it expressed in very strong terms the united entreaties of the queen's adherents on the single point already stated. This letter Mr. Wraxall was empowered to deliver to the queen on his arrival at Celle, to request her to peruse it, and afterwards to enclose it in a letter from herself to her brother, supporting every argument contained in it by her entreaties. Mr. Wraxall was, as on the two previous occasions, to draw up a letter to the queen, and his further instructions for her were to the following effect:—

"To assure her Majesty, on the part of the Danish nobility engaged in her cause, that they were unremittingly occupied in concerting measures for her restoration. That they were so numerous and powerful a body, possessed of such means, and inspired by motives so strong, as to render their success almost infallible. That the consent of the King of Great Britain to the only request preferred by them would, indeed, accelerate, as his refusal might retard, the accomplishment of the projected enterprise, but that nothing could prevent its ultimate execution. That even a discovery of the design would not frustrate it; and that, if the executioner should strike off ten heads or twenty, a number sufficient would still survive to seat her on the throne. That the plan, when ripe, would be carried into execution in the following manner:—

"On the day fixed, certain of them would repair to the palace, obtain access to the king, and either induce or compel him to affix his name to an instrument ready drawn up for the purpose. The instrument would simply contain an order to the queen dowager to retire to her own apartment till his further pleasure was known; and to Prince Frederick, to remove to one of the palaces, probably that of Frederiksborg, about twenty miles from Copenhagen. That at the same time, by virtue of a similar order, the ministers would be dismissed or arrested; and a messenger sent off to invite the queen to return, without an instant's delay, to Denmark, to resume her proper rank and authority. That their measures would be so well concerted and so rapidly executed as to produce the counter-revolution in the space of one or two hours.

"That they trusted, therefore, she, on her part, would repair with all possible expedition to Copenhagen. That a proper escort, becoming her dignity, should be formed, to accompany her from Altona through the Danish territories, and that they calculated she might, with despatch, reach Copenhagen in four days from the time of her quitting Celle, if no extraordinary impediment arose in her passing the two Belts. That her presence in the capital of Denmark would animate the courage of her adherents, cover her enemies with consternation, and complete the counter-revolution. Lastly, that though they could not yet name the precise time when they hoped to[229] proceed to action, which must in a certain degree depend on the answer of his Britannic Majesty to their present request, yet, that for many and urgent reasons, they neither could nor would long defer the blow."

Having received the above-mentioned letter from Baron von Bülow, and general directions for his conduct, Mr. Wraxall again set out from Hamburg on March 21, 1775, and reached Celle on the following night, at ten o'clock. He gave the same name to the sentinel at the gates, and drove to the same obscure inn, as on former occasions. Next morning he went to Baron von Seckendorf to inform him of his arrival. The baron entreated him to remain concealed as much as possible, and not to stir out by day, as the Princess of Brunswick was then on a visit to the queen. But, he added, that her Majesty was determined to see Mr. Wraxall, at all events, previous to his departure, as she had various matters to impart to him of a confidential nature.

On Mr. Wraxall's return to the inn, Mantel, the queen's valet, came to him. Mr. Wraxall gave him, in consequence of the order he brought, the letter of the Danish nobility to George III., and also a letter from himself, addressed to the queen, containing the heads of the instructions with which he was charged. It was afterwards fixed, between Baron von Seckendorf and Mr. Wraxall, that, on Saturday morning, March 25, as soon as the hereditary princess had returned[230] to Brunswick, Mr. Wraxall should be brought to the castle, where the queen would be ready to receive him. But, after mature deliberation, the baron thought that it would be safer for him to repair to the castle during the night before the princess left Celle. The circumstance of her then being at Celle was favourable, because no one would be tempted to suppose that the queen could venture on so hazardous an experiment when her sister was under the same roof. It was therefore agreed, that precisely at eight o'clock on the evening of the 24th, Mr. Wraxall should wrap himself in his great-coat, and proceed to the entrance of the drawbridge over the great moat of the castle, where Mantel should punctually meet him, and conduct him to the queen. The circumstances of this last interview are so interesting, that I shall allow Mr. Wraxall to speak in the first person.

I set off about a quarter of an hour before eight for the inn. The darkness of the night was accompanied by a tempest of wind and rain. When I got to the spot, no valet appeared, and directly afterwards the guard was relieved. I was therefore compelled to hide myself as well as I could while the whole guard passed close to me. The rain was so heavy, and the darkness such, that fortunately I was not discovered. I waited in this unpleasant predicament a full quarter of an hour, anxious and impatient to[231] the greatest degree. At length Mantel came. He said not a word to me, but, wrapping his cloak all over me, and covering me with his umbrella, he led me in silence over the drawbridge, under the arch, into the square court of the castle.

We went up a private staircase, and he conducted me along the great gallery or corridor into the queen's library. Two candles were burning, and the book-cases were thrown open, as it was uncertain at what hour the queen could come to me. Mantel left me, but returned in less than a quarter of an hour with a note from Baron von Seckendorf, to the following effect:—

"Un mot pour vous, mon très cher, tout va bien. On espère même que la princesse se retirera à neuf heures; alors sa Majesté pourra vous parler jusqu'a onze heures, à son aise. Vouz pouvez lui dire tout ce que vous avez sur le cœur. Le mauvais temps, m'annonce l'impossibilité de me trouver demain matin au rendezvous: ainsi, ayez la grace, étant d'ailleurs destiné d'être mouillé, de passer à huit heures chez moi. Ordonnez les chevaux à neuf, et partez sous la garde de Dieu. Bon soir. Je retourne le chiffre dont j'ai pris copie. Rapportez-moi demain tout ce que vous avez de papiers ou d'ailleurs. Vous verrez la reine précisement à neuf heures."

I had scarcely perused the note when I heard the queen's footstep on the staircase. A moment afterwards she entered the room. She was charmingly[232] dressed, though without diamonds; she had on a crimson satin sack, and her hair dressed. I drew a chair, and entreated her to allow me to stand and receive her commands, while she was seated, but she declined it, and we both stood the whole time. Our interview lasted about two hours. It was a quarter past eleven when I asked her Majesty if I should retire, and she signified her pleasure that I should. She approved of the letter drawn up by the Danish nobility to the King of Great Britain, as well as the request contained in it, which she confessed to be natural and just, though she doubted his Britannic Majesty's consent to it.

"I will, however," she added, "write to my brother the letter requested before I go to bed to-night, enforcing, as far as I am able, the petition of the nobility. You shall receive it from Baron Seckendorf to-morrow morning, and at the same time that of the Danish nobility shall be returned to you."

Her Majesty ordered me to assure Baron von Bülow by letter that "she was satisfied with all I had communicated to her on his part, and that she should be ready on the shortest notice to mount on horseback in men's clothes, in order more expeditiously to reach Copenhagen: there to encounter every difficulty with her friends."

Her Majesty was gracious enough to express to me the strongest assurances of her protection. She was pleased to say:

"I lament that I have no means left me of proving to you at this time my satisfaction. You have run every hazard in order to serve me. I will, whatever may be the event of the present attempt, recommend you to the king, my brother. He can, and will, I have no doubt, recompense you properly. Meanwhile, write to me freely and unreservedly from England on every point, and rely on my recollection of your services."

When the queen was about to withdraw, she opened the door, but held it a few minutes in her hand, as if she had something to say: she then retired. I little thought her death was so near, and that I should never see her again. In a short time afterwards, Mantel came to me, and wrapping me up in his cloak as before, conducted me by a private staircase out of one of the postern gates of the castle. It was quite dark, and he therefore showed me the way through the suburbs to the inn. When I got there, it was midnight.

On the following morning, Mr. Wraxall waited on Baron von Seckendorf. The latter delivered to him the two letters, one from the Danish nobility, and one from the queen to George III. They were under separate covers, but both were sealed and addressed by herself. Mr. Wraxall received orders from her Majesty, concerning what he had written on March 14[234] from Hamburg, namely, to deliver the letters on his arrival in London to Baron von Lichtenstein, if he was still there, and in case of his having quitted England, he would follow the instructions which might be left by him respecting the mode of conveying the despatches to the king.

Baron von Seckendorf, at the same time, communicated to Mr. Wraxall, by the queen's command, a message with which she had charged him. It contained the most gracious assurances of her favour and protection, "as due," she was pleased to say, "to his zeal, exertions, and disinterestedness."

Mr. Wraxall left Celle immediately afterwards, and took the road to Osnabrück and Holland. From Rotterdam he wrote to Baron von Bülow, as well as to Mr. le Texier, informing them of all that had happened at Celle, and of his being on his way to England. On April 1, he embarked at Helvoetsluys, and reached London on the morning of the 5th.

On the next day, Mr. Wraxall called at Baron von Lichtenstein's lodgings, but, to his great mortification, learned that the baron had left England ten days previously. He left behind him, however, the following letter for the Queen of Denmark's agent:—

In obedience to this order, Mr. Wraxall waited upon Mr. Hinüber on the next morning. The latter received him with great politeness, and informed him that he had the king's directions to take from Mr. Wraxall, and forward immediately in a sealed-up box to the queen's house, whatever letters Mr. Wraxall might give him. Mr. Wraxall, in consequence, delivered to Monsieur de Hinüber two packets: one from the Queen of Denmark, and another from the Danish nobility. To these he added a letter addressed by himself to his Majesty. In the last, he thought it his duty to request the king, in the name of all the adherents of his sister, to admit him to an audience, as the only person who could, from his perfect knowledge of the plan and the persons, satisfy any inquiries, or explain any secret matters relative to the enterprise itself.

Mr. Wraxall also wrote to the queen, Baron von Seckendorf, and Baron von Bülow, acquainting them with his arrival and his Majesty's orders. During a fortnight, he waited in expectation that the king might possibly signify to him his commands. But having received no communication, Mr. Wraxall wrote, on April 21, to Baron von Bülow and Monsieur le Texier, informing them how matters stood. He particularly requested to be told in what manner he should act: whether they wished him to remain in London, or return by Hanover and Celle to Hamburg. By the same post, he addressed a letter to her Majesty[237] at Celle, stating fully to her the facts which he had communicated to the Danish nobility.

It was not till May 10 that Mr. Wraxall received an answer from the Danish nobility. The letter was written by Le Texier in his own name and that of Von Bülow. It was to the effect that the baron's absence from Altona had occasioned the delay of some days in replying to Mr. Wraxall's last despatch; but that, the baron being then returned, they had maturely considered it together. They greatly regretted the king's not having admitted their agent to an audience, as well as his silence on the important point requested. The state of affairs at Copenhagen was extremely critical; but till the return of young Baron von Schimmelmann, whom they expected impatiently and daily, they were in a degree unacquainted with the person, condition, or intentions of their associates. The instant they were enabled to give Mr. Wraxall any information on the subject, he should hear again. In the meanwhile, they besought him, in the joint names of all the party, to remain quiet where he was, and not to set out from London, either for Celle or Hamburg, unless by his Majesty's positive directions.

In pursuance of this letter, Mr. Wraxall waited for further information, and held himself in readiness, if it should be thought necessary, to return to Germany, or to renew his application to George III. through Mr. de Hinüber, if the Danish nobility should instruct him[238] to do so; but Providence had decreed that their efforts should be rendered vain. While the measures concerted to restore the queen to the throne of Denmark appeared to be near their accomplishment, she was no more. The melancholy intelligence did not reach London till May 19, and it need hardly be said that the news of so unexpected and lamentable an event produced a terrible effect on her zealous agent.

On May 25, Mr. Wraxall received a letter from Baron von Seckendorf, which I shall transcribe here, as it contains a singular and material fact, that George III. had given, through Baron von Lichtenstein, an answer to the request made him by the Danish nobility; but that, as the king's letter arrived at Hanover when Caroline Matilda was either dying or dead, the packet was returned to him unopened:—

From Baron von Bülow, Mr. Wraxall received a letter, in June, announcing to him the same event; it was dated May 22nd, and I shall extract the first part of it here, as it proves another very important circumstance, that the enterprise would have been carried out whether George III. had given the required promise or not:—

Thus terminated, seemingly at the point of fruition, an enterprise in which some of the first nobility of Denmark, Norway, and Holstein, were engaged, and to which George III. had given his consent.[55]

CHAPTER VIII.
DEATH OF CAROLINE MATILDA.

We have seen that in the early part of 1775 the queen of Denmark appeared the picture of blooming health. Her entourage, and all who were of the same age with her, consequently felt the most confident expectations that they would long enjoy her pleasant and gracious society. But the news from Altona, the hope of a justification in the sight of the world, and of a reunion with her children, and at the same time apprehensions as to the decisive result of Mr. Wraxall's mission to her obstinate brother, kept her in a constant state of excitement, while she was obliged to place a restraint on the feelings that disturbed her mind, in order not to[243] arouse any suspicion among her suite, or with her ever-watching sister. Therefore, it was not surprising that her constitution, thus rendered susceptible to external dangers, met a catastrophe half way, which destroyed all the hopes of her friends about the apparently blooming princess enjoying a long life.

A dangerous scarlet fever had spread over the neighbourhood after the severe and tempestuous winter, and one of the queen's young pages was attacked by it, and died in a few days. When he was dead, and laid in his coffin for interment, her Majesty expressed a great desire to see him. The ladies opposed this wish, and requested her not to do it. She still persisted in her resolution, and went down to the apartment in which he lay. Mantel, the queen's valet, had purposely locked the door and taken the key, and when Caroline Matilda asked him for it, he answered her that it could not be found. After several vain endeavours, therefore, she went up-stairs again. Mantel carried in the tea to her Majesty. In a few minutes the queen suddenly got up, and before any of her ladies could stop or prevent her, she ran down to the chamber where the corpse lay. Unfortunately, the door was then open. She stepped in, and stayed about a minute—not more—looking at it. She expressed no particular horror or emotion, more than was natural on looking at such an object.[56]

This took place on May 2nd, 1775. On the next morning the queen complained to her bed-chamber woman that the image of the dead page had appeared to her all through the night, and filled her with terror.[57] Still she slightly recovered herself, although a little girl of four years of age, Sophie von Benningsen, whom she had adopted when left an orphan, and as some consolation for the loss of her own daughter, had also been attacked by the disease, and filled her with fresh alarm. She went as usual to the Jardin François, but felt unwell, and evidently had the seeds of infection within her, for, on the third day after the visit to the chamber of death, she was unable to ascend the stairs leading to her apartments without the help of her lady-in-waiting.

"I must force myself to seem less tired than I really am," she said to her companion, "so that my good Omptéda (the grand maîtresse), who did not like my driving out, may not scold me."

She complained of sore-throat and chill, but sat down to dinner with her court, though she was unable to eat anything. When the card-tables were placed in the evening, the queen felt too indisposed to play. The ladies proposed her having a sofa, and looking on at them; but Mantel then presumed to speak, and advised her Majesty going immediately to bed. The[245] queen consented, and ordered her women to undress her. The illness, however, made such alarming progress, that the grande maîtresse on the next morning called in Dr. von Leyser, the physician in ordinary.

"You have twice," the queen said to the physician, "extricated me from a dangerous indisposition since the month of October; but this exceeds your skill: I know I am not within the help of medicine."

Leyser affected cheerfulness; but at once requested that Dr. Zimmermann, a very celebrated physician at Hanover, might be called in.

In the meanwhile the queen's condition grew worse every moment, and she requested to see Magister Lehzen, the pastor of the city church. The latter at once arrived, and, in the ante-chamber, was informed by Dr. Zimmermann of the great danger that menaced the queen's life. When he was shown into the bed-room, the queen said to him, in a weak voice:

Lehzen assured Caroline Matilda how greatly he lamented it, and tried to console the exalted sufferer with the consoling words of faith, read her spiritual hymns, more especially Gellert's beautiful canticle, "Ne'er will I seek to injure him;" and concluded with a prayer on the text of St. Paul's Epistle to the Ephesians:—

"Unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think."

The worthy clergyman returned in the afternoon,[246] and again in the evening, and found the queen, in spite of her indescribably violent illness, rather more calm; and when he returned to the castle on the next morning, he found that Superintendent General Jacob had already been with the patient, and the two physicians were still with her. On the faces of the physicians he fancied he could read a certain calmness, and, in fact, the patient was better, as she herself said. It was the usual lucid interval which takes place before departure from life, the harbinger of imminent death, dressed in the garb of mercy for the friends of the departing.

The queen employed these last moments in the exercise of a good deed. She requested the clergyman to write a few words for her to her brother, which would show that she had not forgotten her attendants, but recommended them to the King of England. She tried to dictate the words to him, but her tongue was already refusing to obey her, and she left it to the pastor to write what he thought proper. When he had finished, she took the paper in her hand, but returned it to him again immediately, that he might read it to her and seal it before her eyes. The letter was then handed by the queen to Director von Marenholz, whom she had ever deeply respected, for transmission to the king.

Toward evening the condition of the queen had evidently grown so serious, that her dissolution might be apprehended at any moment. She was told that the[247] whole city was alarmed about her, and that even the Jewish community had offered up prayers for her.

"How this sympathy alleviates my sufferings!" the queen answered, in a weak voice; and the clergyman offered up a prayer in words which her eyes confirmed as her own.

Then she inquired after the condition of Sophie von Benningsen; and when the physician gave her the assurance that the child was out of all danger, she breathed the words, "Then I die soothed," and fell asleep not to wake again.

Pastor Lehzen, who was present at the queen's death, describes it in the following words:—

"My office has often enabled me to witness the last hours of my fellow-mortals, but I never remember so easy a dissolution, in which death loses all its terrors. The expression of the Scriptures was literally true in this case: she fell asleep like a tired wayfarer."

Caroline Matilda died on May 11, 1775, at 10 minutes past 11 P.M., at the age of twenty-three years, nine months, and twenty days.

As was very natural in those days, the queen's sudden death aroused suspicions of poison. Mr. Wraxall, however, who asked Mantel about the circumstances, gives us the following account, which may be regarded as authentic:—

To this statement Mr. Wraxall adds: "Among the many princes and crowned heads whom the ignorant and misjudging multitude have supposed to be dispatched by poison, none seems to have less foundation for such an apprehension than the Queen of Denmark. She was exactly a subject for an inflammatory or[249] malignant distemper. She had already had repeated attacks of the same nature, though not so violent as the last. It was in the beginning of May, and the weather remarkably hot. The queen was accustomed to use great exercise, and probably overheated herself. She was young, large, and of a plethoric habit of body. When all these circumstances are considered, who can wonder at the nature of her disorder and death? Nothing so likely or natural."

Owing to the mortification that at once set in, it was found absolutely necessary to deposit the body in the vault of the Dukes of Celle until the King of England had arranged the funeral ceremonies. This was done at midnight, on May 13, with great order and decorum by Grand Maréchal von Lichtenstein. At the sermons in the church, the whole congregation, from the highest to the lowest, burst into tears. The queen's affability and gentleness had gained her the hearts of even the lowest people, who offered up heart-felt prayers for their lieben und guten Königinn. Her Majesty's remains, accompanied by sixteen captains, were carried in a hearse, drawn by six horses, and attended by a double guard of soldiers, to the royal vault. The burial expenses, amounting to £3,000, though the funeral was quite private, were defrayed, by order, out of George III.'s privy purse.[58]

A general mourning was appointed in England, and on May 24 a committee of the Lords, with staves, and also a committee of the House of Commons, who were of the privy council, waited on his Majesty at St. James's, with their address of condolence on the Queen of Denmark's death. To which George III. replied: that "he returned his thanks to that House for the concern they have expressed for the great loss which has happened to his family by the death of his sister, the Queen of Denmark." The king also recommended the succession of the late queen, for the advantage of her children, to the care of the Regency of Hanover, and Baron von Seckendorf was consequently entrusted with its administration.

The British court sent a formal notification of the death of Queen Caroline Matilda to Copenhagen. It arrived on a day when a court ball was appointed, and the vengeance of old Juliana Maria went so far, that, careless of decency, she did not even order the ball to be put off. The usual ceremonial, however, had to be observed—for instance, the ordinary court mourning of four weeks—as for foreign reigning princes and princesses, and the children of the deceased were placed in deep mourning. It is nevertheless certain that this foolhardy behaviour on the part of the Danish usurpers proved most offensive at the court of St. James's, and heightened the aversion George III. felt for the Danes.

The unfortunate queen, however, was all the more regretted in the land of her exile, and in the widest circles. The two Chambers of the principality of Lüneburg, immediately after the death of this consoler of all the poor and suffering in Celle, applied to her brother with a request that they might be allowed to erect a monument to the deceased queen, in that Jardin François of which she had been so fond, so that there might be at this spot a memorial of the universal devotion with which the great and noble qualities of the late Queen of Denmark were revered among them, and to give remotest posterity an opportunity of honouring, with silent emotion, the memory and reputation of the best and most amiable of queens.

George III. expressed his thanks for this offer, and we can easily understand how welcome to him was this public proof of the veneration and love which were felt for his sister, who had been so cruelly hurled from her throne.

After receiving the king's assent, the Chambers of Lüneburg had the monument erected by Professor Oeser, of Leipzig, and to the present day it is an ornament of the Jardin François, which travellers gaze on with sympathy and regret.

The governor of Celle, a prince of Mecklenburg Strelitz, also had a monument erected in memory of Caroline Matilda in his English garden, and it is well known that the Danish poets Baggesen and Oehlenschläger[252] have erected permanent memorials to her in their works.

Some years ago, the following letter was discovered in the secret archives of Hanover.[59] It was probably written by Caroline Matilda in the first days of her illness, when she had a presentiment of her death. When she was first attacked, she had said to her faithful valet—"Mantel, I am very ill, and fully believe I shall die."

We have further and valuable testimony to the[254] unstained memory of Queen Caroline Matilda in the following extract from Falckenskjold's "Memoirs:"—

Such is everything that can be learned of the death of Caroline Matilda. Sacrificed in the first bloom of youth, and decked with the fillets of misery, she was sent, an inexperienced victim, to become the bride of a man who was a compound of insanity and brutality. In less than seven years she experienced all the honours, but also all the wretchedness, which a royal throne can offer. Then she died in the flower of life in exile, the victim of the most scandalous conspiracy.

Several descriptions of Caroline Matilda were written at the period of her death in England—among others, one in the "Annual Register," by my grandfather. From among them I have selected the one I consider the best, which first appeared in the "Universal Magazine" for May, 1775:—

The virtues of this unfortunate princess were many of them concealed with as much art as if they had been her reproach. She had a ready and quick apprehension, a lively and strong imagination, with a large compass of thought. She excelled in an uncommon turn for conversation, assisted by a natural vivacity, and very peculiar talents for mirth and humour. She loved a repartee, was happy in making one herself, and bearing it from others. And as this talent was rendered not only inoffensive, but amiable by the greatest good-nature and cheerfulness of disposition, she was the life of the company, and the[256] delight of all that had the honour to approach her. And though it generally requires much care and resolution to govern any extraordinary degree of life and spirit, she had no pains of that sort to overcome, having been blessed with a natural serenity and calmness of mind that was inexpressible, and is hardly ever accompanied with such uncommon share of vivacity; but in her it had so much the ascendant, that it was invariably the same, and constantly remained with her through the whole course of her misfortunes, so that she had reason to express her thankfulness to God, as she often did, that he had given her a temper which enabled her to support herself under the load of injuries she sustained.

Her gentleness of nature showed itself in every instance, both in public and private, and inclined her to study all the ways of making herself agreeable, and of suiting her discourse to the persons with whom she conversed. But though her general manner of receiving company in public was very obliging and gracious, she knew how to distinguish persons of real merit, and had an effectual way of making those for whom she had any particular regard fully sensible of the distinction she made. The same softness of behaviour, and the same command of herself that appeared in the drawing-room, went along with her into her private apartments, and delighted every one that was about her, down to her meanest attendant.

Her generosity was extended in the most impartial manner to persons of different sects and parties;[257] but her principal regards were paid to such as were in the greatest distress, to those who were under the disability of receiving a maintenance from the public, as well as to the widows and children of clergymen and officers whose families, by their deaths, were reduced at once from a state of plenty to a want of the common necessaries of life.

In these acts of benevolence she avoided all appearance of show and ostentation so much, that many persons who subsisted by her bounty were really ignorant of their benefactor. She conversed in private with persons of all the different turns of genius in the whole compass of arts and sciences; and with a few whom she honoured with a more particular regard, she entered into all the freedoms of private and familiar life, and showed that she could let herself down from her dignity as if she had never possessed it, and could resume it again as if she had never parted with it.

It was this affability, however, that enabled her enemies to ruin her. Perfectly innocent, and even virtuous in her conduct, her levity and good humour threw her off her guard, and made her less circumspect than her situation required. She conformed with difficulty to the strict ceremonial which was observed at the court of Copenhagen; a vanity, inseparable from the youthful part of the female sex, made her pleased to see the influence of her beauty on all around her, and she indulged herself in an easy familiarity[258] with persons who were more remarkable for their knowledge and abilities than the greatness of their rank. Wicked instruments were planted by her unrelenting enemy the queen dowager, who put a malignant interpretation on all the harmless liberties taken by this amiable princess; and, paying no regard either to truth or humanity in the calumnies which they suggested, insinuated the most cruel suspicions into the king's ear, and took the most criminal methods to destroy her character with the public.

To these infernal machinations the amiable Matilda fell a sacrifice, in the bloom of youth and beauty, and the zenith of power. After her retirement to Zell she was often heard to wish for death, which the innocence of her life, as well as the misfortunes to which she had been exposed, rendered a most welcome guest; and her last moments passed in imploring forgiveness for her enemies, and recommending her children, for whose safety she was exceedingly apprehensive, to the protection of the Almighty.

CHAPTER IX.
WHEN ROGUES FALL OUT——.

With Struensee fell all his reforms, and "the good old times" returned in full force.

The detested cabinet minister had scarce been thrown into prison ere the new holders of power hastened to overthrow all the creations of the fallen man. As if anxious to give the country and all the persons watching their movements a proof of their care for the general welfare, they began by establishing justice on its old basis, and restored the Commission of Inquiry, who were allowed by the criminal code to extort confessions from prisoners with the lash. This care for the due administration of justice[260] was soon followed to the satisfaction of the pietists and the orthodox clergy by the reintroduction of public penance for sexual sins, so that the plebs very soon enjoyed once more the edifying spectacle of hot-blooded sinners, male and female, being insulted by bigoted priests in temples devoted to the adoration of the Almighty. Still, they did not dare to abolish the court and city court established by Struensee, because the recognition of this benefit was universal. In the same way, a decided error on Struensee's part, and which, it might be assumed, the reaction would at once reform—the lottery, that plague-spot of the poorer classes—was allowed to exist, of course, because it caused a deal of money to flow into the treasury "of the dearly-beloved king who so dearly loved his nation," and cash was pressingly needed to satisfy the claims of the friends of the new government.

The spirit of the usurping party and its adherents was even more plainly shown by the restoration of serfdom, so that the holders of estates could treat their vassals as they pleased. The general dissatisfaction aroused by this measure among the poor servile peasants is depicted by Suhm, who once took the field so zealously against Struensee's "godless rule," in an anecdote from Jütland.

"Professor John Egede," so Suhm tells us, "saw a man in ragged clothes working in a field with some half-naked children to help him, a few years after[261] Struensee's fall. 'Will not the extra tax be soon removed?' he asked the passing professor. The latter replied that he did not know. 'Oh! yes, I can quite believe that,' the peasant retorted, 'for you don't think about things of that sort in Copenhagen. That was a worthy man who gave us the regulations by which the corvées were settled. But that was the very reason, I fancy, why they cut his head off. The new regulation is only made to torment us poor peasants till we cannot stand it any longer.'"

It is notorious that serfdom was not abolished until the regency of the Crown Prince Frederick. Under his long reign, which lasted from 1784 to 1839, nearly all Struensee's reforms, to which a more enlightened age did ample justice, and which had obtained general recognition through the ideas diffused by the French Revolution, were recalled to life. The task was completed, greatly to his credit, by Christian VIII., the grandson of Juliana Maria.

All that remains for us now to do, is to show by what means the new faction sought to secure its position, and how at last Nemesis revenged herself on the principal conspirators.

The usurpers did not consider themselves fully secured by having declared the king's sole signature invalid, but they wished to make themselves safe in the event of the weak king dying before the prince royal attained his majority. For this object, they persuaded the king, after the queen's matter had been[262] amicably arranged with the English court, to sign a will, a copy of which was handed to the colleges and courts, with orders that the document was only to be opened after the king's death, in case it took place during the crown prince's minority. As the presumed event did not occur, however, the contents of the privy regulation have remained a secret. It was generally supposed that the king's testament contained an order that Queen Caroline Matilda should be excluded from the guardianship of her son, and that the Hereditary Prince Frederick should be appointed regent. Other suppositions hinted at still more important regulations as to the successor, but it can hardly be believed that the king, however imbecile he might be, would have signed such a document.

A desire to prevent a possible surprise was certainly the motive for the decree that for the future foreign envoys would only be admitted to an audience with the king in the presence of the council of state; and yet such a custom had been regarded as high treason on the part of Struensee.

The union among the conspirators, however, only lasted a short time after the revolution had been carried out, and this was specially evident among the military members. Generals Rantzau-Ascheberg and Eickstedt stood at the head of two opposite parties.

Rantzau-Ascheberg, Köller-Banner, and Von der Osten, formed a triumvirate dangerous to their opponents. As chief aide-de-camp, Köller-Banner re[263]ceived apartments in Frederiksberg Palace, where the court resided in the summer of 1772. Hence Rantzau also procured rooms in the palace; but, as the number of doors and windows annoyed him, he hired lodgings in the village adjoining the palace, and Von der Osten removed to the same spot, so that the three friends were close neighbours. Rantzau also supported in the Generalty College all the propositions that emanated from Köller, while he said simultaneously to Eickstedt, who hated Köller:

"Do not suppose that I have any serious understanding with Banner. Certainly not. I only pretend to be his partisan, in order that the Pomeranian may burn his fingers in the candle."

Von der Osten displayed equal dissimulation in the council of state, where he supported and praised everything proposed by Schack Rathlau, while in secret calumniating him to the best of his ability.

The other conspirators, consequently, began to entertain doubts about their three ambitious and intriguing colleagues, and apprehended that they might even meditate evil designs against the queen dowager and her son. Suddenly it was announced that Rantzau-Ascheberg, at his own request, had been relieved of all his offices, and retired on a pension of 8,000 dollars; and it was generally believed that Russia and Prussia had insisted on his removal. There may be some truth in this, as the Empress Catharine had just ratified the Holstein exchange, and naturally expected[264] something in return. In the highest circles, however, all were glad at being freed from this dangerous man. Suhm, however, tells us, that the decisive cause of Rantzau's dismissal was, that he said about a letter written by the hereditary prince to Guldberg, "Yes, it can be recognised by the style! But was not Struensee's head cut off for the same thing?" Immediately after his retirement from active service, Rantzau quitted Copenhagen, and went to his Holstein estates; but, on October 16, the restless traitor proceeded to Kragsberg, near Odense, in Fühnen, but whether with reactionary purposes remained an enigma. In Copenhagen the return of the dangerous man occasioned such alarm among his former confederates, that, on November 6, Major von Harboe suddenly handed him a royal order to quit the island immediately. Under the major's escort he returned to Ascheberg, and directly after went, viâ Hamburg, to Frankfort, where he cashed a draft of 24,000 florins in the assumed name of Juel. He left Frankfort again as quietly as he had arrived there, and proceeded to the south of France, where he took up his temporary abode at Orange, probably in obedience to royal commands. Afterwards he removed to Avignon, where he spent the rest of his days, and died there, in 1789, in his seventy-second year, without having once revisited his country.

So soon as some order had been introduced in the course of business, Köller-Banner, as representative of[265] the infantry, produced in the War College projects for the tactical remodelling of the battalions, which, however, Eickstedt considered too expensive, and sought to prevent. Köller-Banner's plans were on the point of failing, when, in the eleventh hour, the government altered their mind, and temporarily assented to his plans. Eickstedt felt so insulted by this, that he forwarded a letter to the hereditary prince, in which he requested his discharge, and added, that he desired no pension. Guldberg naturally undertook to answer this request of one of the principal conspirators, and did it in his unctuous way, by recalling to the petitioner's mind the Glorious 17th of January, and reminding him of the necessity of all the sharers in it hanging together. Eickstedt replied to this in his usual coarse way, that he was sick and tired of constantly listening to the old chatter of January 17. The object of that day had been to secure the king's person, maintain the honour of the royal house, and promote the welfare of the country. But, if that object could not be attained, it would have been better had the events of January 17 never taken place. Such dangerous expressions from a powerful member of the conspiracy induced the hereditary prince himself to undertake satisfying the dissatisfied man; and he declared to the petitioner in writing that the aid of so active and far-sighted a man could not be dispensed with in the projected reforms, and hence his resignation could not be accepted.

Although Eickstedt had not succeeded in overthrowing Köller-Banner, another man completely effected it.

Directly after the revolution, Queen Juliana Maria invited to Copenhagen Prince Charles of Hesse and his wife, but the death of one of their children prevented the princely couple from reaching the capital until October, at the time when the menacing measures of Gustavus III., for the conquest of Norway, had aroused great terror among the incapable members of the government, and caused the nomination of Prince Charles as generalissimo in Norway. Immediately on his arrival the latter was received by the queen; and, after a conversation about the dangers with which Norway was menaced, was requested to examine Köller-Banner's propositions; but, at the same time, was also warned by the crafty queen against this dangerous man and Von der Osten. By the prince's advice, a committee was appointed, under the presidency of the hereditary prince, to investigate Köller-Banner's reforms: the other members being Prince Charles, and Generals von Hauch and von Hobe, while the ministers also took part in the discussions. This committee rejected nearly all Banner's propositions, at which the latter was so offended, that he not only forgot all the respect due to the king's brother-in-law, but publicly declared that Frederick II. of Prussia would erect a statue to him for reforms and ideas like his. When the authorities also learned that Köller-Banner, wrapped[267] in his cloak, paid nocturnal visits to the French and Swedish envoys, his dismissal from his former posts, and his appointment as governor of the fortress of Rendsburg, ensued, while the Prince of Brunswick-Bevern was gazetted as commandant of the capital. Still the hero of January 17 retained his full pay of 4,400 dollars, in order not to offend him too greatly.[60]

Although the general might now be reckoned among the exiles, he had not fallen into utter disgrace, for Juliana Maria afterwards took him under her protection, and tried to keep him, for the purpose of intimidating the violent ministerial opposition. For in July, 1774, he unexpectedly received an invitation from her to come at once to Fredensborg, where the court was residing at the time; but when the ministers heard of this, they were penetrated with fear, and induced the War College to intimate to the general that he was to remain at his post in Rendsburg, and send an apology to the queen. Although Banner found himself compelled to obey on this occasion, on receiving soon after another request from the queen to come across, he informed her that he would accede to her wishes, and appeared at Fredensborg in the beginning of August. As, however, he was a thorn in the eye of the ministers, he soon began quarrelling with them, the result of which was, that he was commanded by the Generalty, who would not listen to his plans and complaints, to return to his post. This induced him to[268] send in his resignation; but it was not accepted. Hence he imagined himself indispensable, and took a step by which he hoped to overthrow his opponents in the War College. He sent into the privy council a rambling plan for a thorough reconstruction of the army; but as Eickstedt had anticipated him, and handed in a similar project, Banner's was sent back to him unheeded. Infuriated at this, he again forwarded his resignation, and dated his request on the eventful day, January 17th, 1775; but this artful trick did not avail him.

On January 23rd, a royal cabinet letter was sent to the Generalty, to the effect that the king, in consideration of the proofs of fidelity, zeal, and devotedness, which Lieut.-General von Köller-Banner had furnished, felt himself induced to assent to his petition of January 17th in all points. He would, however, retain his former pay of 4,400 dollars, of which, 2,600 had been granted him for his meritorious services on January 17th, 1772. Furthermore, he would still remain in the king's service, and be always ready to act as a Danish general whenever the king thought proper, and as befitted a lieutenant-general; at the same time, he was permitted to visit other armies, and take part in foreign campaigns.

Köller-Banner, after this, left the country and went to Vienna and the Austrian army, but returned at the beginning of 1777 to Copenhagen, where he was again[269] most graciously received by the old queen. Soon afterwards, however, he was mixed up in a scandalous affair with the magistracy about a child an actress had given birth to. The excitement caused by this was so general, that he received his full discharge from the military service. But the protection which the hero of January 17th still enjoyed was so great, that his 4,400 dollars were left him as a life pension.

When Köller went to take leave of his powerful patroness, Queen Juliana Maria, he requested, as a last proof of her favour, that she should inform him who it really was who had calumniated him so greatly to her and the hereditary prince, and promised, at the same time, to make no use of the information. The queen then acknowledged to him that it was Admiral von Kaas.

"Is it possible!" Köller-Banner exclaimed, in the utmost surprise. "That is the greatest insult that could be offered me! The unworthy wretch—a man who has dishonoured the Danish flag—a man whose wickedness is only comparable with his stupidity—has been able to overthrow a faithful and zealous servant of the royal house by his calumnies! I never could have believed that my hostile destiny would prepare such a humiliation for me."

Köller-Banner returned to his native land of Pomerania, but could not stand it long there, and selected as his last residence the very city where Struensee's[270] memory was honoured. In this city, Altona, the conspirator died in 1811, utterly forgotten, and avoided and detested by everybody.

The Pomeranian knight of the Dannebrog, Hans Henry von Eickstedt, held his ground the longest. In 1773, this utterly ignorant soldier was entrusted with the supervision of the education of the crown prince by a royal letter, which was at the same time a grand panegyric of the nominee. The king, we read in it, had appointed him chief governor of his beloved son, because he could trust to the general's faithful devotedness, Danish heart, and judicious care. But this selection was so bad a one, that the excellent son of Caroline Matilda frequently complained loudly in his maturer years that he had been purposely kept from learning anything. It was the design of the queen and Guldberg to keep the crown prince a minor as long as possible, and the best means for this unscrupulous object were certainly to allow the heir to the throne to grow up in ignorance, to imbue him with an immoderate preference for everything Danish, and to divert his inclinations to unimportant state-matters, such as playing at soldiers. Although the two leaders of the conspiracy succeeded in this treacherous design, the country yet had the consolation and satisfaction that King Frederick VI. inherited the clear natural intellect of his unfortunate mother, and thus made up for his deficiency of knowledge, even though his neglected education entailed other consequences.

In November, 1783, Eickstedt was given the order of the Elephant; and when, in 1784, the education of the crown prince was said to be finished, he was appointed his first chamberlain; but on the very next day after the crown prince attained the government as regent, Eickstedt received from his royal pupil his dismissal as member of the privy council and commandant of the Horse Guards, with a pension of 5,000 dollars, which was some time after raised to 7,000. This terrible fall so greatly insulted the arrogant chamberlain, that he at once left the court and retired to his estate of Boltinggaard, in the island of Fühnen, where he died in the year 1801, in seclusion, and forgotten by the world.

Beringskjold could not endure the loss of his chamberlain's dignity and his banishment to the island of Möen, which I have already described, for it was asking this ambitious man to resign half his life. Hence he left the island secretly a little while after, and went to Sweden. What he undertook there remains a mystery; but it is known that he ordered his wife during his absence to send in a petition for his pardon, and compensation for the losses he had sustained by being deprived of his domain of Nygaard. As no resolution to this effect was issued, he, in the following year, requested, through the same intercessor, pardon and permission to return to his native land. This request had a better result, for he was not only allowed to return to Möen, but the chamberlain's key was also[272] restored him. He received a letter from the king himself, in which his disobedience was graciously forgiven, and he was requested to remain quietly in Möen, or, if he preferred it, somewhere in Jütland, Fühnen, or the duchies, and there enjoy his guaranteed pension of 2,000 dollars. At the same time, however, he was prohibited from travelling again to Sweden, or carrying on a secret correspondence with that country, or leaving Denmark at all; and for his own good he was recommended not to show himself at Copenhagen, or any place where the court was residing. This indulgence toward the accomplices of 1772 was further shown in the fact that, in 1780, Beringskjold's son, who was a page of the bed-chamber, was appointed a conferenz-rath, and the other, who was a captain, a chamberlain. But all this but little satisfied the restless father. He next asked leave to reside at least in the same island where the court was; and when this was granted him, he bought, in a mysterious way, three considerable estates, situate in the southern part of Seeland: Rönnebeksholm, Sparresholm, and Sortebrödre, and selected the first as his residence. When the court was staying at Fredensborg in the summer, he went repeatedly to Elsinore, which was only ten miles from the palace, and thence sent letter after letter, first to one, then to the other of the persons belonging to the king's immediate entourage, in order to obtain further favours; but all these efforts proved unsuccessful.

When Beringskjold saw himself thus passed over, he formed a plan for overthrowing the government, and laid his treacherous scheme before a near relative of the royal family; but one of his own sons, the chamberlain, betrayed his father's designs.

On June 4, 1781, a royal cabinet order was sent to Bailiff von Bielcke, Bürgomaster Wulf, and Regimental Quartermaster Schiött, all of Nestved, to seize Chamberlain von Beringskjold, on whom a strong suspicion rested of carrying on a very treasonable correspondence, and sequestrate his papers. These gentlemen enticed the chamberlain, by a business pretext, to the town, read him the king's order, and the bürgomaster at once conveyed him under escort to Copenhagen, where he was handed over to the commandant of the citadel, who locked him up, and informed him that a dollar a day was allowed for his maintenance. In the meanwhile, the two other commissioners went to the prisoner's estate, packed up all the papers they found there in a trunk, sealed it up, and the quartermaster immediately started with it for Fredensborg, where the court was residing at the time. Simultaneously with the order of arrest, the postmasters of Nestved and Ringstedt received instructions, during the next eight days, to stop all letters addressed to Rönnebeksholm, and send them to the royal cabinet. A similar order was sent to Bürgomaster thor Straten and the postmaster of Flensburg, concerning all letters arriving for, or despatched by, a certain Comptroller Wildgaard.

On June 9, Bailiff von Bielcke and his fellow-commissioners were instructed to restore to Frau von Beringskjold all the papers not retained from the trunk which had been examined at Fredensborg, and to give her and her sons, in the king's name, the assurance of his Majesty's lasting favour. Frau von Beringskjold was allowed to remain on her estate, and was only advised, in all future affairs, to consult with her son, Conferenz-rath von Beringskjold.

After a survey of the sequestrated papers had proved the "continued bad designs of this man"—such were the royal words about Beringskjold—a commission of inquiry was appointed on November 13, 1781. In order that this affair which, owing to its nature, demanded the greatest secrecy, should be discussed with all due justice, the king selected those men as judges of whose insight and integrity he and the whole country were convinced, namely, the Justiciary of the Supreme Court, Privy Councillor of Conferences von Rosenörn, the Director and Attorney-General of the General Chancery, Privy Councillor Carstens, the Minister of Finances, Privy Councillor von Stemann, and the Professor of Law, Etats-rath Colbjörnsen.

The commissioners were ordered to assemble, after giving a solemn pledge of secrecy, and, in accordance with the royal instructions, form an opinion, from the papers laid before them, whether Chamberlain von Beringskjold had not proved himself one of those restless subjects who ought to spend the rest of their lives in imprisonment.

The choice of the commission in itself proved what weight was attached to Beringskjold's detected conspiracy. It was a peculiar circumstance, too, that secret instructions were given to the Hamburg post-office, which led to the tolerably correct supposition, that the person related to the royal house was no other than the king's brother-in-law. As early as 1773, Juliana Maria had felt alarm about Christian VII.'s sister, and was very glad at that time that the latter consented to accompany her husband, when appointed generalissimo of Norway, to that distant country.[61] At the period when the conspiracy was detected, Prince Charles was a highly esteemed volunteer in the Prussian army, so that he must naturally have been consulted by letters which must go viâ Flensburg, after passing through Schleswig and Louisenlund. The result of the investigation was, however, carefully kept private, and it is, up to the present day, one of the state secrets of the Danish archives.

In the Beringskjold affair, a great number of witnesses was examined who had been connected with the prisoner of state, and even persons who had dined with him were asked what their host had said about the government at dinner. After the witnesses had all been examined, the prisoner's turn arrived, and his crimes, among which a conspiracy against the government was the chief, were brought before him, and he[276] learned for the first time that his own son had denounced him. Beringskjold handed in his counter-declaration, and requested, during the trial, the assistance of Advocate Colbjörnsen, brother of the commissioner.

Finally, when all the regulations of the law, so far as the peculiar nature of the affair allowed it, had been exhausted in the examination, the commission sent in, on December 31, 1781, their opinion upon the point laid before them by the king, which was to the effect, that Chamberlain von Beringskjold was proved to be a restless man, and dangerous to the general welfare and public order, and, as such, ought to be imprisoned for life under a strict guard, according to the law.

When the king was on the point of confirming the sentence or opinion of the commissioners, but at the same time of granting the accused a considerable sum for his maintenance, the discovery was made that the prisoner, in spite of his strict arrest, had carried on a secret correspondence, and undertaken "another attempt at his old wickedness." After such "mad disobedience of all royal orders,"—so says the royal re-script of February 20, 1782,—all the proofs against the prisoner were to be gathered, and laid before the commission for a final judicial sentence.

On March 3, the sentence of the commissioners was made known, which decreed the highest criminal penalty against Chamberlain von Beringskjold, that is,[277] like Struensee and Brandt, loss of honour, life, and property.

The king resolved on this that Beringskjold, although he had added more than one offence to his original crimes, should be spared the extreme penalty, but as a dangerous criminal remain in secure arrest; be degraded from his dignity as chamberlain; and be told that, on the slightest attempt to renew his designs, he would suffer death. This penalty, however, was in no way intended to degrade or humiliate his innocent wife or her sons.

On April 9, the convict was informed of the royal pardon, and the chamberlain's key taken from him for the second time. He was left in the citadel under arrest, but no one was allowed access to him but Dean Thybring. For all that, early in May he found means to write a letter to his wife, which really reached its destination. In this letter he complains of the "incredible godless treatment he had endured;" dropped hints about the charges brought against him; and gave instructions for further correspondence; stating, in conclusion, that he had already written twice, for which purpose paper and pens were given him by special orders of the commandant.

When Frau von Beringskjold received this letter, she was so affected by its contents, that she was attacked by a mortal disease. In her dying moments, however, she handed the letter to Quartermaster Schiött, who at once forwarded a copy to Eickstedt, and shortly after, by the general's orders, the original to Guldberg.

Beringskjold was now removed to Munkholm, where he took the place of Falckenskjold, who had been overthrown by his machinations, and was kept in the strictest arrest in the rock fortress. When, two years later, the government passed into other hands, Beringskjold fancied that the hour of his deliverance had arrived. He therefore hastened to send a petition to Copenhagen, in which he requested a revision of his trial, but naturally gained no hearing from the son of Caroline Matilda. However, the gentle young prince allowed the originator of the conspiracy of 1772 to walk about the fortress and pay visits, and his sons were ordered to give him a portion of what they had inherited from their mother.

A few years later, Beringskjold obtained his removal to the fortress of Bergenhuus, where he remained as a prisoner till 1795, but lived in incessant contention with the commandant, Major-General de Mothe, and the officers. In the last-named year he obtained the regent's permission to end his days in the unfortified town of Stavanger, in Southern Norway, where he was placed under the supervision of the bailiff. He lived here eight years, and died in 1803, at the great age of upwards of eighty years.

Count von der Osten, who became minister of foreign affairs through the palace revolution of 1772, did not occupy his post long, but was banished to Jütland in 1774, when, on the recommendation of Landgrave Charles, Count Bernstorff's nephew, the afterwards so[279] celebrated Peter Andreas Bernstorff, was summoned to Denmark, and the foreign affairs were entrusted to him. A few years after, however, Von der Osten was recalled from his bailiff's post in Aalborg, and appointed president of the Supreme Court; a little later, chief president of Copenhagen; and, shortly before the downfall of the usurping government, was decorated with the order of the Elephant. This participator in the conspiracy also attained an age of upwards of eighty years, and died in 1797.

All that is left now is to describe the fate of the fifth principal conspirator and actual manager of the palace revolution, Cabinet Secretary Guldberg, after whom the misgovernment, from January 17, 1772, to April 14, 1784, has been called the Guldberg Ministry.

Always keeping behind the scenes so long as he had any one to fear who might contend with him for the supreme power, Guldberg accepted no seat in the privy council established immediately after Struensee's fall, but temporarily contented himself with his position as cabinet secretary to the hereditary prince and intimate adviser of the queen dowager, though he at the same time decided everything. But when the younger Bernstorff undertook the foreign ministry in 1774, and Guldberg was alarmed at the influence of this respected man, he effected his own appointment to the hitherto vacant post of privy cabinet secretary to the king, which ensued on the birthday of the hereditary prince. In this way, the cabinet government,[280] which had been charged as the highest crime against Struensee, was re-established, and Guldberg granted official interference in all higher affairs of state. External dignities speedily followed; for the king, in 1777, raised him to the Danish nobility, with precedence from January 29, 1773, the king's birthday, and granted him the name of Höegh-Guldberg. In his new post of honour, he very soon made Bernstorff tired of his ministerial functions;[62] so that the latter sent in his resignation in 1780, and it was accepted. Immediately after, Höegh-Guldberg was appointed a privy councillor, and it was at the same time published that the king had also selected him as a member of the privy council of state.

After three years' working in the dark, the cabinet secretary, who occupied Struensee's post, had thus acquired the governmental authority. The revolution was ostensibly undertaken with the object of bringing the sovereign power again into the hands of the king alone; but as the mental condition of Christian VII. did not permit this, Queen Juliana Maria assumed Struensee's part, though only indirectly, and through the medium of her other self, Guldberg, as her sex[281] did not permit her to preside in person over the council of state. For the hereditary prince, who held this presidency, was regarded in public as a mere puppet, and, according to the testimony of an eye-witness, valet Franz Goos, passed most of the sessions in sleeping. Höegh-Guldberg, however, did not carry on so aristocratic a rule as Struensee, but cleverly left the current affairs of the administration to the several colleges. But the higher affairs of state were entrusted entirely to his guidance.

Advancing gently, he contrived, by his defence of the principle of nationality, to acquire some degree of respect among his countrymen, and in this way concealed his utter want of statesman-like talent. In this respect the introduction of what is called the Indigenate law of January 15, 1776, remains a lasting merit of his, for he was the concipient and proposer of this law, even though he asked the advice of the two learned brothers Colbjörnsen. By virtue of this law only natives could henceforth hold office, though the king could naturalise deserving foreigners. The motive for the law was so attractive as to gain its concipient great praise. Justice demanded, the introduction said, that natives should eat the bread of the country. The experience of all ages had proved that in countries where the education of youth was attended to, there was never any lack of useful people, if the regent sought them. In this respect, the history of the country might be referred to with pleasure, which[282] could display men of all classes who had served the country, maintained and saved its honour, and, with noble courage, sacrificed themselves for their kings.

The consequences of this regulation led to a perfect Danish administration in both kingdoms, so that every failing Struensee had committed in this respect was removed. If this was just, however, it did not compensate for the errors which constantly brought the state nearer to ruin in other points, as all Struensee's beneficial arrangements were revoked through sheer hatred of him, in so far as too evident proofs of their value did not prevent the reactionary party from doing so. The final sanction of the exchange of territory, by which the former Russian share of Holstein was acquired by Denmark, was not Guldberg, but Bernstorff's merit. On the other hand, the former deserves praise for having effected the liberation of Falckenskjold.

In the meanwhile, the crown prince grew up; but his education was so neglected under the coarse hands of Eickstedt and by the over-learned Sporon, that, in truth, he only acquired a decided preference for the Danish language, but never even learned to write it correctly. Although the kings of Denmark are declared to be capable of governing at the commencement of their fourteenth year, the confirmation of the crown prince was deferred till his seventeenth year, and was only then performed in the palace chapel on[283] April 4, 1784,[63] because it could not be delayed any longer. To this was joined the entrance of the crown prince into the council of state, but the precaution was taken of appointing, on April 6, Minister of Finance von Stemann and Secretary of State Höegh-Guldberg, state ministers and members of the privy council, so that these faithful adherents of the queen might check any possible influence of the young crown prince. But the reckoning had been made without the host.

The crown prince, who was endowed with sound sense and a strong will, had already formed his resolution. As early as autumn, 1781, he had suffered an insult from Guldberg, which he never forgot. He had expressed himself in terms of dissatisfaction about the cabinet orders re-introduced by Guldberg, which had been regarded as a crime in Struensee. Guldberg observed to him, in reply, that the cabinet orders were the sole sign of the sovereignty, as without them there would soon be as many kings as there were colleges in the land, and then told him, through the tutor Sporon, that, were it not for the cabinet decrees, he, the prince, would himself be not worth more than the cat of Slangerup. The brutal Eickstedt[284] even forced the prince to make Guldberg an apology in writing. From this moment, the crown prince formed the fixed resolution to render himself independent, ere long, both of Guldberg and the other holders of the power.

After carrying on a secret correspondence with Bernstorff, who had retired to his estate of Borstel, near Hamburg, and receiving his ready assurance that he would resume his ministerial functions in the event of a change of government, the knowledge of the queen's ambitious plans induced the prince to confide in other trustworthy opponents of the Guldberg ministry, especially Privy Councillors Schack Rathlau and Stampe, General Huth, and Count Reventlow, and arrange with them the execution of his plan.

Thus arrived April 14, 1784, on which day the crown prince was to enter the council of state. When the members assembled, and the king had taken his presidential seat,[64] the two excellencies, Höegh-Guldberg and Von Stemann, appointed ministers of state on April 7, and Count Rosencrone, who had been granted a vote in the privy council, advanced, in order to hand to the king the formulary of the oath, signed by themselves; but the crown prince prevented them, and calmly requested them to desist[285] until his Majesty had most graciously permitted him to make a proposition. As all remained silent in expectation, the crown prince produced a paper, and read from it that he gratefully recognised the favour shown him by the king, in his appointment as member of the privy council, but requested his father to dissolve the cabinet, by which the intention expressed in the declaration of February 13, 1772, would be fulfilled. He also begged that two hitherto pensioned men—Privy Councilors von Rosenkrantz and Von Bernstorff—might be recalled to the council of state; and, further, Lieutenant-General von Huth and Privy Councillor Stampe be appointed councillors of state.

After reading this proposal, the crown prince laid the paper for signature before the king, who at once seized a pen, in order to fulfil his son's wish; but the hereditary prince tried to prevent him, by saying that the king must not be allowed to act with precipitation. Christian did not allow himself to be checked by this objection, and tried to complete his signature; but ere he could manage it, the pen fell from his fingers. The crown prince handed it to him again directly, and the king not merely completed his signature, but added his sanction, on his son saying, "Will not my gracious father show me the affection of writing 'approved,' here?" When this was done, the hereditary prince attempted to seize the paper; but the crown prince was too quick for him, and put it in his pocket. Startled by this scene, the king hurried to[286] his apartment, whither the hereditary prince followed him with equal speed and shot the bolt, so that the crown prince could not gain access to his father. Embittered by this, the heir to the throne turned to the four privy councillors, Moltke, Höegh-Guldberg, Stemann, and Rosencrone, with the declaration that the king no longer required their services, and at the same time announced the dismissal of the Supreme Marshal von Schack, Conferenz-rath Jacobi, and Cabinet Secretary Sporon; and added, that the first of them must not show himself before the king again.

After this, the crown prince retired in order to reach his father by another route, but found that also barred against him. He was about to have the door opened by force, when his companion, Marshal von Bülow, contrived to appease him, and immediately after the door opened, and the hereditary prince appeared, leading the king by the hand, and trying, as it seemed against his wish, to conduct him to the queen. The crown prince leaped forward, seized the king's other hand, and most earnestly begged him to return to his apartment, and feel convinced that nothing should be done without his gracious sanction, and only that be effected which would prove to the advantage of the subjects and the country. As the weak king was more inclined to respond to his son's wishes than go with the hereditary prince, the latter so greatly lost his self-command as to seize hold of the crown prince's collar and try to tear him away from the king by force.[287] But the son held his father so tightly with the left hand, and used his right so energetically against the hereditary prince, that the uncle was soon obliged to yield, especially when the crown prince laid his hand on his sword for the purpose of driving him back. The crown prince's page of the bed-chamber, Von Mösting, afterwards so well known as minister of finances, ran up, however, and ere the hereditary prince knew what was being done to him, he found himself at the other end of the corridor. The terrified king took advantage of this moment to fly to his apartment, and thus the victory of the palace revolution of April 14, 1784, was decided. For, if the hereditary prince had succeeded in carrying the king to his step-mother, the recently approved ordinance would certainly have been revoked, and the humiliating announcement which the queen had made to the crown prince just before he entered the privy council, that henceforth Guldberg would report to him the king's orders, would have become a truth.

We can imagine into what a fury Juliana Maria was thrown when her beloved son told her of what had occurred in the council of state, and the treatment he had undergone. She raved, wished to go to the king even if it cost her life, called Count Reventlow, who threw himself at her feet and implored her to be calm, a traitor, and said to the crown prince that he was a treacherous gentleman, who always had honey in his lips but poison in his heart, and that[288] it was his intention to kill his father. The hereditary prince, however, had so thoroughly lost all courage for further resistance, that he wished himself dead. If we take into consideration the energy of the intriguing lady, and the nimbus of sovereignty which had surrounded her for twelve years, we must applaud the precaution that the artillery under General Huth, and the palace guard, were held in readiness, in case any further resistance should be offered to the downfall of the late government, or the refusal of the king to sign the order, had rendered the proclamation of the crown prince as regent, which had been fully decided on, necessary. Still, all ended with the fury and passion of the deposed Juliana Maria, and she had rendered herself so odious to the nation, that the change of government was greeted with universal joy, and the crown prince everywhere received with applause. But the fury of the angry lady also became appeased when the crown prince threatened serious measures and arrest.

In the meanwhile, the king's commands had been sent to the colleges and courts, and Bernstorff invited by the crown prince to return immediately.[65] Early in May, the future foreign minister and president of the German Chancery arrived in Copenhagen. His practised diplomatic pen communicated to foreign[289] courts the overthrow of the Guldberg ministry, and of the rule of Juliana Maria, with the postscript that the government firm would still remain that of Christian VII., but the government of the crown prince as regent had commenced on April 14, 1784.

Höegh-Guldberg was called on to pacify the old queen, and the regent considered the deposed secretary of state's merit in effecting this so great, that he contented himself with sending this concoctor of the conspiracy against his mother, into the usual banishment in Jütland, as bailiff of Aarhuus. The sudden removal from dignities held so long, and from the sovereign authority, demanded resignation. The God-fearing Höegh-Guldberg displayed it, at least externally, and retained his post up to the year 1802, when he was dismissed, and retired to the fine estate of Hald, near Viborg, which he had purchased, and where he died in 1806. He did not venture to present an order on the Treasury for 100,000 dollars given him as a reward by the queen dowager, possibly because, as a judge of Struensee, he felt his conscience prick him too strongly; and when, after his death, his sons had the courage to bring forward this claim on the government, the crown prince laughingly referred their impudent demands to the Greek Calends.

The enlightened statesman, Bernstorff, who afterwards acquired world-renown by his decree of neutrality, was, from this time forth up to his death in 1797, the adviser of the young, inexperienced, and, unfortunately,[290] poorly-educated crown prince. As such, he opposed all odious measures in a reactionary sense, and it was to this mild conduct that the queen dowager and Prince Frederick owed their security as members of the royal house, though they were entirely excluded from all participation in affairs of state. When the fire of 1794 completely destroyed the splendid Christiansborg Palace, these two royal conspirators against Struensee and Caroline Matilda were left without a roof in the capital, and were obliged to seek shelter with private persons until their future abode was prepared for them in the Amalienborg Palace. Here, mother and son lived quietly till their death: the former, engaged with penances, for which her crimes against her own daughter-in-law and an innocent minister were sufficient reason; the latter, more honourably, in promoting the arts and sciences, for which the appanage of 12,000 dollars, granted him on the exchange of territory for resigning the coadjutorship of the principality of Lübeck, afforded him the means. By his consort, a princess of Mecklenburg, he had two sons and two daughters; of the latter, the youngest, the grandmother of ALEXANDRA, PRINCESS OF WALES, is, in spite of her great age, still remarkable for her beauty and grace.

APPENDIX A.

I shall now endeavour to give my dearest father some idea of my present views and plans. I have, after much time, labour, and trouble, deciphered the letter pretty well. The Danish nobility wish impatiently my return, and implore me not to delay it a day which I can prevent. They wait in eager expectation of my arrival, with his Majesty's compliance and support, to strike the blow, or lose all in the attempt. I went with this letter to the Baron de Lichtenstein. He received himself a letter yesterday from the queen, which orders him to give me another £100 from her own moneys here, and superadded to these two sources, his Majesty has promised to give an order on his Hanoverian Treasury, in case of necessity, to supply me still further. So you see they are all now in earnest. I went to the merchant to-day, on whom my bill (received from the Danish nobility yesterday) was drawn, and he gave[292] me instantly a bank note for £100 sterling, which I now have in my pocket book. How much longer I shall stay in this kingdom I cannot say, nor can the Baron de L—— say with any more certainty than myself. It absolutely and fully depends on his Majesty's orders and pleasure. The baron will see him next Tuesday morning (it is impossible sooner, two councils being held Sunday and Monday at the queen's palace on American affairs), and communicate to him my letter received from the Danish nobility. I shall write a number of queries likewise for Him on Monday, though I should not be surprised if He sees me before my departure. The baron thinks that I shall not be sent away before the 6th or 7th of next month, when his Majesty will have had time to give his full, clear, and mature reply, and some letters are expected from Copenhagen, which will give a little light how to act. I shall be glad if I am delayed yet some 2 or 3 weeks, as the spring opens, and winter will begin to retire every day. 'Tis terrible to cross Westphalia and Hanover at this season of the year; but that is nothing.

I presume you will now begin to imagine my scheme less romantic, and my views more probable, than they have hitherto appeared; but believe me, my dearest sir, on my honour, I am no more elated now than I was depressed 12 days ago, when things had a very dubious, uncertain aspect. If I return, and if the queen should be reinstated, I may, and I think, must be rewarded in some way—honorary, or otherwise; but I depend on nothing, and hold it as loose as ever I did; yet I now hope and believe I shall go back to Zell, Hamburgh, and perhaps Copenhagen; but still I can positively assert nothing till I have His reply and commands for my departure.

Though I have this hundred pounds now in my possession, yet I consider it a sacred deposit, not to be touched or infringed on till I begin my journey from hence, or the expenses immediately necessary to it. Even my own interest would lead me to be very scrupulous and honourable on this point. My reward is not yet come: it is to come, perhaps, bye-and-bye.

And now respecting the grand affair. I conversed two hours with the baron this morning. He hopes to see his Majesty to-morrow evening, or Wednesday morning. I then shall know his ultimate pleasure and commands. The baron has, however, requested me to write in cypher to the Danish nobility to-morrow, that "I have received their money: that, according to all appearances and probability I shall leave London on my return about the first day or week in February, and shall take the direct road to Zell, and thence to Hamburgh." He likewise writes the same to Her to-morrow. I have drawn up a paper of articles to be presented to his Majesty by the baron when he obtains audience, which will contain his reply and argument. In my own opinion, I own, it seems as far as human foresight can now determine, that I shall be sent away in the course of next week: but nothing is sure, nothing to be depended on, till his Majesty's answer and orders are known. Then, I've demanded four days or five, to be ready and prepare my little affairs. A carriage I must buy in Rotterdam or Utrecht, as no carriage can pass by the packet from hence. I've a servant in readiness, whom I can engage the minute I've my despatch or orders to be gone. 'Tis very probable I shall be sent on from Hamburgh to Copenhagen, to give notice then to the party of his Majesty's full consent. Then business will begin. God grant it may be successful! If we are, I may then presume to hope and think I shan't be forgotten.

I went to the baron. He was with the king last night, but the queen being constantly at their elbow, he could not say one word to Him respecting audience. The king said: "venez Mercredi à onze heures." So, to-morrow morning, at 11, he will see Him. I asked[294] him if I might not, as 'twould be very agreeable to me in many respects, stay till Monday next; he said "I might do it: but he must request me not to stay beyond Friday, if it could be avoided by acquiescence, as the Danish nobility, and the queen of Denmark, would expect me impatiently according to my promise, and I should not fail to execute it, if to be done. Besides, I am sure," said he, "the king won't delay for an hour, and will expect you to begone before next Monday. Pray be ready! I hope to send you word to-morrow evening all is done. So try, if you can, to be ready for Friday." I was obliged, therefore, to submit, and expect surely to be gone next Friday afternoon, though then I shall be confoundedly hurried and driven.

I am just returned from the baron's: I have received my ultimate despatches: a letter from his Majesty to her Majesty the queen, and lastly, the articles to which the king consents. All therefore is done, finished completely. The baron wished me joy, bade me farewell, wished me a very happy journey, and all success! I must, 'tis his Majesty's pleasure, begone to-morrow night for Harwich, and must be at Harwich by or before 3 in the afternoon, as the packet sails (unless the wind is directly contrary) Saturday evening.

Indeed, my dearest father, neither you nor I had any idea of the tremendous roads through which I have passed, the continued and wondrous chain of dangers, amid which I have as yet escaped unhurt. Imagination cannot paint anything more horrid than the roads of Westphalia, of Holland (beyond Utrecht), of Hanover, to the gates of Zell. But let me continue my recital from Osnabrück.[295] I quitted that city last Monday at noon, and got to Diepenau by miracle almost next morning at daybreak. I would willingly have gone round to Minden, or to Nienburg, two cities situate on the river Weser, and at each of which there are bridges across it—but this was impracticable. The river was so amazingly swelled by the deluges of rain as to exceed all belief, and absolutely to cut off all communication, in or out, with these two places. I had, therefore, no partie left, but that of going on straight to Stolzenau, putting my carriage into a boat, and crossing over at all events. I did so, and succeeded. I arrived safe on the English bank of the Weser, Thursday morning, after navigating more than a mile through fields and meadows, the hedges of which only began to appear above water. It put me in mind of Deucalion's deluge. Thence I had only 40 miles to Hanover. What signifies it to repeat to you that I expected a hundred and a hundred times to be lost! That I passed deep pieces of standing water, half a mile in length! That several times I believed myself gone, and thought never to see Zell alive! Here I am notwithstanding, unhurt, undismayed, and ready to meet these dangers, if commanded, all again! Nor think that I am unmindful of, or ungrateful to that Being, who protects the race of man, and preserves us in every situation! I am not so wanting in the noblest feeling of the human bosom; but as I feel, so I express myself about it in very different language from you. I got here Friday night by the kind assistance of the moon, without which 'twould indeed have been an absolute impossibility ever to have got here in the mire; since 'twould be neither more nor less than madness and frenzy to attempt to travel during a dark night. You may depend on it, my dear sir, I am not desired to do this, and never shall, till the roads mend. As to the rest, I know your parental anxiety will be all awake for me, and will make you tremble for my preservation; but fear nothing. I have a noble presentiment which never quits me, of future elevation! Some protecting genius shelters me from danger, and averts every fatal accident from me. I have no doubt I shall return to you bye-and-bye,—I cannot promise you a richer man,[296] but I can promise you, a wiser man. What passed last night I cannot now mention to you. I may not trust to this uncertain, dangerous conveyance. It is enough to say that all goes more than well, that I am approved by my queen, that I am promised to share in the future happy prospects, if we can realise them. That be my endeavour! I have devoted myself to the enterprise. I have passed the Rubicon, and won't retreat. If ever virtuous glory had power to animate a young man's bosom, it ought to do so in mine!

This night, or rather early in the morning, by moonlight, I begin my journey. It is only about 80 English miles; but I don't expect to reach Hamburgh before Wednesday noon, as I shall only travel during that part of the night when the moon lights me on the way. You may depend, my dearest father, that I will indeed take every care of my safety possible. They implore me here to do so. She has laid her commands on me to be careful of myself, for Her sake. What more forcible motives can I have? I half think I shall go on to Copenhagen; but 'tis dangerous, and that point's not settled yet. At Hamburgh I shall know all. Hitherto, all success attends us: nor do I doubt that it will attend us to the end. "'Tis not in mortals to command success:" we must do our utmost, and leave the rest to fate.

And now, my best, kindest, dearest father, I bid you and my mother farewell! I am just going to set out for Hamburgh. Pray let me hear of her story from you: 'twill be very inspiriting to a poor traveller, amid the horrid roads of Westphalia and Lower Saxony.

I have received no money yet in repayment of the £100 I spent last autumn; but She has not only promised me, in the fullest terms, that sum, but superior marks of her bounty, if all goes well. We must have patience, my dear father: time will do more[297] for us than anything else. Hanbury wonders what the deuce has brought me here. I told him I came by Osnabrück and Bremen, and said not a word of Zell or Hanover. "You're a wicked fellow," he said to me. "You've done some mischief: some man's wife, now, or some lady or other. You had better be candid, and tell me, for your father will, I am sure, bye-and-bye." 'Twas just the pretext I intended to screen myself with. So I told him that a little affair of gallantry, harmless enough, had induced me just now to travel, and that my intentions were for Berlin. That has satisfied him.

Now, to continue my narrative. I wrote you from Zell. I left it on Sunday at midnight, and arrived, though through a thousand hair-breadth escapes, at this place, the day before yesterday. The country is an ocean. I passed through towns so completely environed, as to resemble an island, amid a vast lake or sea. Guess, then, what the roads must be. Surely, I am protected from any harm in an extraordinary manner. I passed through waters so deep, so long, so broad, that 'twas not in human nature to be quite unmoved. I passed the Elbe very safely, about 20 miles higher up than Hamburgh. 'Tis very, very happy, sir, yet here; for the rains have begun afresh, and 'twill be impossible to travel for some time in these countries. Here are not less than a dozen gentlemen now in Hamburgh, who do not dare, though pressed by their affairs, to set out for Holland and France. All the danger which threatened us, is, however, over: aye, I believe I shan't quit this city this four weeks or more, and then the spring will have mended the face of things. I have seen the Danish nobleman to whom I am sent. To-morrow we shall have a long interview. Then, as I can write with more certainty, I'll finish this letter.

At present, my dear sir, I am a little more in the light than I was yesterday. I shall not assuredly be sent to Copenhagen, but remain here at least 14 or 16 days, as a messenger is sent with what I brought. What will be done in consequence I can't yet say; and if[298] I could, cannot communicate to you by this conveyance. Some few weeks are requisite to ripen matters. I am promised on all hands to have my fortune made if we succeed: but, as Hamlet says, there's the rub! Meanwhile, they supply me with money for all my expenses; so, at the worst, I am taken off your hands for the present. Even that is somewhat, you must allow. My expectations are neither languid nor sanguine. If they succeed, She neither can nor will forget me. If they fail, She won't have it in her power. That's exactly the case! So, I repeat, patience! The post which ought to have arrived to-day from England is not come. No wonder, when the rains continue, and all the country is deluged with water. I am happy to find I shall have 15 days' respite from such perilous journeys.

As the Baron de Lichtenstein had left orders for me to wait on the Hanoverian Envoy with what letters I might have for his Majesty, I waited on him this morning. He received me with distinguished politeness. I gave him three letters; one from the queen, one from the Danish nobility, and a third from myself; all addressed to the king. He said he had received his orders to forward them instantly to the queen's palace to his Majesty, which he would not delay one moment. So, I suppose, in the course of 4 or 6 days I shall receive some orders or message from Him. 'Tis a most delicate and difficult affair in which they have engaged me; but, as I exactly and minutely know my instructions, and the genius of the party, I fear nothing; but, on the contrary, am conscious of being able so to act, as to approve myself to those who have honoured me by so noble a deputation. As soon as I know anything, I shan't fail to inform you; but I shan't be surprised if I should be sent back again to Germany in less than 12 or 14 days. Yet I know nothing, and can draw no certain inferences at present. All depends on his Majesty's replies and pleasure.

I would willingly give you a little light into the exact situation I am in, and the views I have at this time. The nobility who sent me back this second time to represent their requests, and notify their desires to his Majesty, all men of the highest rank and eminence in Denmark and Holstein, but being at present in a species of exile, unpensioned and unofficed, were by no means capable of raising a large sum of money, or supplying me with anything beyond the "de quoi vivre." They only give me 600 ducats, or near £300 per an.:—I mean, after that proportion, during my stay in England as their agent or envoy. It is not from them—I mean strictly, and in their own persons—that my reward must ultimately come. It is from her Majesty the queen. If she returns to her kingdom, she can highly honour and reward me, herself. If she does not, she can yet recommend me so powerfully to her brother, that I shall be at least in some manner or way taken care of. I do not account the money they give me to procure bread and wine, while employed in their immediate service, as in the minutest degree rewarding me. Neither do they esteem it so. Fond as I am of travelling, I am not desirous of repassing the circle of Westphalia, at the continual hazard of my life and limbs; nor would I do it in any cause less honourable, less noble, than that of seeing a young and charming princess, whose graciousness and condescension have attached me more to her, than any hopes of interest or even ambition. Whether his Majesty rejects or consents to their request, alters not in any degree the intentions of the party. His consent will accelerate the blow; his refusal may retard, but cannot, never will change the design. They ordered me to tell Her Majesty—and I did tell her so—that if the executioner should strike off ten heads, or if the plague should destroy as many more—enough would still remain alive to reseat her on the throne, and doubted not to effect it. The time when cannot be fixed. It must depend on many circumstances.

Her Majesty has written to the king, particularly requesting him, as the nobility are poor, and cannot allow me much, to make me some genteel present while in England—not as any reward to me, but to lighten their burden. Whether he will, however, comply with this request, I very much question. If I hear nothing in 8 or 10 days, I shall write to her Majesty and the nobility, and request them to send more minute and precise commands how to proceed. But surely I shall hear from the king in some way or other within that time; at least, I can't but apprehend so.

I sent the three letters to his Majesty last Friday. I've yet heard nothing in answer. If I hear nothing in ten days from this time, I shall then write to two of the nobility, and likewise to the queen (for she expressly and personally enjoined me to write to Herself, and to address all my letters immediately to her). This gracious and condescending permission I won't fail to profit by. If his Majesty sees me, and gives me a favourable answer to the request made him, I think, I believe, and imagine, he will send me instantly back with it to Zell and Hamburgh. Nay, the Queen has even requested him in her letter, in that case, to honour me with some employ, or charge me with some ostensible message or commission, to hide my real and actual errand. Her Majesty, in the last interview I had with her at midnight, in an apartment of the castle of Zell, where I was brought disguised, was most graciously pleased to assure me that it was not only on account of my services that she would endeavour to reward me, but that she was even personally attached to a man who would have rushed on certain death, to have had the glory of sacrificing his life at such a shrine.

I have finished my packet for Germany to the nobility, but I don't write to her Majesty till Tuesday next, as 'tis not impossible I may hear from his Majesty in or within that time. My motive for not quitting town before next Sunday se'nnight is, that I would wait a decent, proper time, in expectation of an answer, message, or order from the king, who may be hindered by business, &c., and who would, doubtless, think me very inattentive to the queen's concerns, and my so important commission, if I ran away in a week after my arrival to visit my friends, regardless of him or his reply. Even if I hear not a word, direct or indirect, yet, when I leave London, I shall put into the Hanoverian Envoy's hand a few lines, which, if his Majesty should send for me, or ask after me, during my absence, he will, in that case, send or deliver to his Majesty. What I shall say will be to this purport:—

Sir,—Not having received any message from your Majesty, and not having seen my father or friends these eighteen months, and not being immediately wanted in London on account of my commission, I have presumed to leave town; but am ready at a moment's notice, and the signification of your Majesty's pleasure, to be again in London with all possible expedition.

This I shall give myself to the Hanoverian Envoy, and request him to give me a line to Bristol, the instant he receives any message respecting me from his Majesty, as, if wanted, I will, and shall hold myself in readiness, to return to town without delay. This conduct will, I think, obviate any censure or disapproval.

My stay, as I said yesterday, won't, I believe, exceed, if it reaches, three weeks, as I expect within that time from my quitting London, answers to my letters to Hamburgh and Zell, which will require my return to town. I may even have letters sooner, so important as to keep me here, or necessitate me, if at Bristol, to return directly; but[302] I think I shall have none sent; though, truly, I can't say. It depends on the course of events in Denmark and Germany.

I think the king won't see me first or last, as envoy from the queen and nobility; but I hope, that is, I half hope, that he'll, notwithstanding, pay some sort of attention to her Majesty's recommendation of me, and somehow or other, perhaps serve me, or employ me, or reward me—but yet I doubt much even of that. If my fortune depended on the queen's goodness and gratitude (for I have served her, and will with my life, if she bid me), my life upon it, she would not leave me unprovided for. But she can do nothing. Even if she should be restored, yet 'tis the king of England must employ me. I neither could nor would profit by the Danish Majesty's service. But we must leave all that to time. I expect nothing, nothing at all; but I may have great things done for me. The latter won't give me one moment's pain, the former not an hour's exultation. I have told you I am in omnia paratus. Death or a ribbon are to me the same.

Imagine, my dear father, the shock I have received on hearing this moment, on my arrival here, that the Queen of Denmark is dead. I am wrapt in horror, sorrow, and consternation. I went to St. James's Coffee House, where Lord Hertford confirmed to me the sad news. A purple fever carried her off. The courier arrived yesterday, late at night. His Majesty is said to be much hurt by this so unexpected a blow. No doubt remains of its unhappy authenticity. As to me, indeed, I feel as I ought, the loss I sustain by her Majesty's death. I was even attached to her, and interest conspires in the nobler emotions to make me weep at the funeral of so young, so amiable, so unhappy a queen. What will be the consequences to me I can't say exactly. That she should die at this cri[303]tical time, at the very moment, when she would, no doubt, have recommended me so strongly to the king, is one of those events which may overcome a temper more steady and uniform than mine.

No wonder now that I have no answer to the long letter which I addressed to her three or four weeks ago, and which she graciously assured me at my departure from Zell, she would certainly answer. My head sinks for a moment under this very unexpected stroke; but it is really sorrow, more than the mean consideration of self loss, that bend it down. True, I have lost my patroness, my royal mistress; but, I have a hundred times told you, that no accidents of fortune can permanently stagger me. I am prepared to live or die; to be prosperous, or to stem the tide of adversity—yet, I confess it lies heavy at my heart. I must have done.

To-morrow I'll write more, be assured. Don't you be hurt, my dear father at this news! Fear not for me. I can't be depressed. His Majesty may yet patronise me; nay, I fear not that he will do it. My spirit is unbroken, and ten times defeated I shall rally, and conquer in the end.

Good night! I weep for the poor departed queen. Little did I think this, when she so kindly bade me adieu, not two months since, in her library at midnight. I remember her parting words, her look. She held the door a moment in her hand before she went out. But I did not see, I did not know that death followed her step, and shut the door for ever between her and me.

P.S.—Lord Lumley (Lord Harborough's son) told me 'tis believed the queen was poisoned.

I have this very moment received a mournful letter from Baron de Seckendorf, from Zell. I join my tears to his, on the loss of our royal mistress, the gracious and amiable deceased queen. He says, the Baron de Lichtenstein pledges himself that I shall be at[304] least reimbursed my expenses from his Majesty here. He mentions no circumstances of her Majesty, the queen's death. He was too much oppressed with sorrow. Depend on it, that in the end some notice from the throne will be taken of me. It must be so, I think.

I have written, finished, sealed up, and put in the post this evening, three very particular and minute letters. One to the Baron de Lichtenstein, requesting him to recommend me to his Majesty, which I know he will do, and which will be almost as effectual as the deceased queen's recommendation. A second to Baron de Seckendorf, answering his letter to me, and desiring him to strengthen my request made to Lichtenstein. This, I know likewise, he'll do most cheerfully. I have also desired him to send me the particulars of her Majesty's illness and death. The third letter, and longest, is to the Danish nobility at Hamburgh. You may almost divine its general meaning and contents. I condole with them on our horrid loss in the dear departed queen: inform them I have written to Lichtenstein, to the end that he may do his utmost, and what she would have done, if she had only lived a few days longer, with his Britannic Majesty. I offer them my further offices, if they have anything to employ me in. I request the continuance of their friendship, and to hear from them soon. This is, in general terms, the substance of my letter.

I allow, my dear father, that I am generally too sanguine in my expectations, too enthusiastic and lively in my ideas and descriptions; but yet remember I predict it—something must, and will yet be done effectual for me, by the Danish nobility and Baron de Lichtenstein. They are all conscious of and acquainted with my services; feeling satisfied of my zeal, capacity, and address, and[305] extremely desirous of procuring me some reward, some sort of recompense for my dangers, fatigues, and endeavours. The Baron de Lichtenstein managed the whole affair, knows me, esteems me: knows her Majesty the queen's intentions of serving me with her brother: and, superadded to all this, he is vastly beloved by the king, who showed him a thousand marks of goodness when in England.

Attend the answer to their letters: they will come in three or four weeks. I cannot, indeed, answer for his Majesty's conduct in consequence of their recommendations; nor could I, even if the queen had recommended me: but I think I may rely on their warm endeavours to procure me some notice or reward from his Majesty; though what may be, whether greater or smaller, must depend on his gracious pleasure.

Undoubtedly, my dear sir, when I reflect on the so unexpected, so sudden, so critical death, of the poor, amiable, unhappy queen, I am covered with amazement, and own it is a lesson never to depend on anything. Could anything not actually done be surer? A young, gay, healthy woman, who had every appearance of long life, snatched away in four days, and buried ere we imagined she was ill. Probably, if I live to a hundred years, I shall never meet with another, so wondrous, so extraordinary an adventure, which is so incredible in its own nature, that I know not what to say to it.

I have received, my very dear father, a long and mournful letter from the Baron de Bülow himself. You will see from it how ready the nobility are to do any and every thing to conduce to my interests: how sensible they are of my zeal, capacity, and unwearied fidelity in the execution of their commands. I have already named the service, the only service, they can do me. I mean that of requesting Baron de Lichtenstein to write very strenuously in my[306] favour to his Majesty. I shall reply to-morrow or next day to this letter, and condole with them on our common, heavy, and irreparable loss, in the dear, departed queen, and reiterate to them my urgent request of being recommended to his Majesty, as the only recompense I desire or ask. There is no shadow of doubt that they will do their part. There is no doubt in nature of Lichtenstein's doing his; but as to what notice our royal master may be pleased to take of their recommendation, or how far he may be graciously disposed to extend his favour or notice to this, I cannot presume or pretend to say, but must leave to futurity to determine. That I shall be reimbursed seems clear; but that's nothing. I aspire much beyond any pecuniary reward. Even if his Majesty should not now extend his munificence or protection to me, yet I am at least known to him by character and reputation. I have served without any reward his royal sister—I have claims—and some future time may give me opportunity to renew or make them good.

[It may be added that the Danish nobility wrote a letter to George III., in which they formally renounced and refused all repayment of the sums disbursed in the cause of the queen's restoration: which repayment was expressly stipulated by his Britannic Majesty, in the third article of the conditions which Mr. Wraxall carried over to Germany in February, 1775. They only asked that their agent might be honourably rewarded and employed. But it was all of no avail.]

APPENDIX B.

The first letter of the word is marked by that which is above, excepting in the case that it be lined under, when it signifies nothing (in itself).

The second letter—count back from the letter you have written to that you would write, and mark the number or cypher.

One writes likewise in the syllables and words; letters of the upper range with a line under, which then marks nothing in itself; but you must begin from that to count the number following, which deciphers the true letter.

One writes at the end of every word one of those letters which signify nothing; and sometimes in the middle of a word put two of them, to render the cypher more difficult.

0 l ÷ 8 u l + 3 b p 3 a 1 + 3 ÷ z + 17 g 9 ÷ 7 + 4. ÿ i
1 c 1 + 15 + 3 x o z ÷ 6 + 14 φ ÷ z ÷ 1 z + 13 b. i 1 e l
ÿ 6 c l c z zz o z p 1 s i l + 1 + 1z ÷ 4 ÷ 4 ÷ 4 f + 3 a l +
3 x c 1 c z + 4 + ll ÷ 2 + 7 ÷ 5 + 10 k. n + z ÷ 1 g p 3
p l r ÷ l y x + 3 + z x c l + 14 g e l ÷ 7 ÷ 8 y p 3 a 1 +[308]
3 + 10 ÷ l i z d + z h p l 9 + 5 + lz b a z + 4 + 10 x o
1 d + z g r + 5 ÷ z g 9 ÷ 7 u z ÷ z ÷ z h u l ÷ 5 + 8 +
8 m ÷ 3 k r p 1 p 3 + 4 + 9 + 8 ÷ 4 + 8. o z ÷ 10 b r h g
+ z ÷ 1z + l3 c l + 8 + 6 a l + 3 s f e l ÿ 9 1 + 7 + 6 ÷
z b c z ÷ z ÷ 3 0 3 + z + l + g + 1z d + z o 3 g e 1 i z c
l h o z ÷ 6 f + 5 φ p 3 ÷ 1z : i 1 c l : d m ÷ 7 + l z i l +
9 ÷ 6 ÷ z k. c l + 6 φ d + z b i z c l + 13 + 1 y. a² y e 1 c 1
+ 8 k (d + 10 + l ÷ 6 ÷ 4) y a z + 4 o 1 + z y u 1 ÷ 5 +
19 y x ÷ l x. d + z d ÷ z m ÷ 7 + 1z ÷ 6 ÷ z + lz h d +
l0 ÷ l + 6 ÷ z ÷ 1z. y o z + 3 + 3 ÷ 8 ÷ z o 1 + 4 p l.
o z k d + 5 ÷ z + l3, + l0 + z e l + 3 y a z a z p z + l0
÷ 11 y f y o 3 f ÷ l + 6 g n ÷ lz + 16 ÷ l + 4 + l0 g p
1 g o z p l g i l + l3 ÷ 3 ÷ 5 + 10 ÷ l4 x r ÷ l 0 3 + z
÷ 3 x a z + 4 c l h d + z + 6 + 9 o l s p l g l ÷ 6 + l9 +
8 m g c l. 9 s x y e l b o 3 b s + l ÷ l4 ÷ z + 6 k o z a l ÷
l g o 3 ÷ 4 ÷ z φ m ÷ 3. y (z k) d + l l n n ÷ 7 x i z f e 1 o
3 o 1 ÷ z + 6 + l + 3 ÷ 8 + 5 ÷ l + 5 6 d i z + l n a l
+ 7 ÷ 4 + 8 s a z + 4 o l + z y. z + l0 ÷ 7 ÷ l9 ÷ z u
l ÷ 5 p z + l φ + 3 ÷ 5 c z y. r ÷ l + 6 ÷ 3 x o z c l o 3
b u l + 1l + 9 + 8 k + 9 d + 1 t z + 1. 9 s f + z + 6 ÷ z
y i z + l + 6 o 3. p l ÷ 5 ÷ 7 ÷ 1 + 5 g r + z ÷ lz + 1 c
1 p 3 ÷ lz g i l c l. 9 x ÷ 7 h + 6 ÷ z h c l + 8 + 8 ÷ 7 f
+ 6 + lz x s + l ÷ 4 + 9 ÷ 1 ÷ 5 c z x c z ÷ z ÷ 3 r y o
z + 4 a 1 + 3 k s + 5 ÷ z ÷ 3 + l b r ÷ l0 + l5. g p l +
z φ + l7 ÷ z d + z k n s o l g r p l p 3 y o z ÷ l0. r + z i 3
+ 5 n o 1 ÷ 4 + lz c l k r ÷ 1 + 4 + l p l + 4. o z p l x
p 3 ÷ lz ÷ z c l i z + 7 + 4 ÷ l0 + 5 ÷ l x i l + l x +
6 ÷ 10 o z ÷ 6 + 14 φ ÷ z ÷ l z y i l c l. d m p l. + lz ÷
6 ÷ z g o z ÷ 6. 9 ÷ l6 + 1z ÷ 8 c z p l a l + 9 ÷ 6 g o l
s + 6 p 3 a z + 4 ÷ l5 h 9 s e l ÷ z k p l f ÷ 3 s ÷ 9 o 3 x
u l + 3 + l4 + 7 h x r ÷ l + 6 p 3 y g ÷ 7 a z + 3 ÷ z
÷ 1 z g i l + 1 n + 3 ÷ l4 p 3 c z. d + z + 14. a z + 4 + 6
+ lz ÷ 9 s p l r c l e l ÷ 5 + z ÷ lz o 3 o 3 + 3 o z + 3 o 3[309]
+ z ÷ z h o 3 + 1z + lz c l o 3. x o l d o l s 9 + l8 + 6 +
23 g c l d + 14 h y ÷ 8 9 ÷ l i l + l o 3 p 1 + 4 + l4 a l
+ 3 ÷ 17 g a z + 5 ÷ 7 + l0 + 6 r + 3 h y d + z c z φ ÷
14 y + 6 c l x c z y h φ p 3 c 1 y d + 1l ÷ z k φ ÷ 7 x i l c 1
x ÷ z ÷ 14 ÷ 19 ÷ 1 e l ÷ 8 ÷ 7. k h g o z p l y p 3 p l +
4 r ÷ 1 ÷ l d a l + 3. i l e 1 g p 3 f o l h p z ÷ 5 f + 4 +
l b ÷ 1 ÷ 9 + 4 1 + 13 o z ÷ z ÷ 4 + lz u l ÷ l g f + l
g φ ÷ 8 g d + ll ÷ z + 3 p 3 o 3 ÷ 13 i z i l. h r + z ÷ 8
÷ 4 + 8 ÿ p l ÿ + z + z x ÷ z n + z i z o 3 ÷ 13 i z c z c 1
n i z ÷ 8 i z c z y a z c l o l x + 4 ÷ 8. p 3 ÷ lz o 3 φ ÷ 13
n a l o z c l y r p l ÷ 8 g n + 14 o z h p l g e l ÷ 7 p 3 ÷
lz + 1 + l4 ÷ z g h f ÷ 1 h φ p 1 h a l + 3 o 3 ÷ 4 ÷ 5
+ 4 x i l c l g o 3 f i z. d + 10 ÷ 1 + 5 + 1z + 8 + 6 +
l1 + 7 c l + 8 + 6. c 1 + l4 x ÷ 15 + l + l3 p 1 r c 1 p.
3 ÷ 5 ÷ 3 + g s x y φ ÷ g + 5 ÷ l g r f e 1 p 3 h u l p l o
1 + 8 ÷ lz g e 1 ÷ 7 ÷ 8 g p 3 t l 9 f o z + g ÷ 1 ÷ 10 +
5 ÷ l i l p l i z o 3 h e 1 ÷ 7 x ÷ 1z ÷ 6 ÷ l ÷ z ÷ lz g
r ÷ 14 ÷ z ÷ 6 h g n p l o 1 o 3 d + z f + 4 + l h ÷ l ÷
4 i z x o 3 ÷ 4 + 6 ÷ l ÷ 10 u l ÷ l + 8 h a z e l f i z h o
z e l o l g i l + l n ÷ l l i z i l c l y t 1 + 8. o z p l. y u l
÷ 5 + 8 + g + 8 + 1z + 6. a z + 4 ÷ 6 ÷ 5 + 7 + 4 ÷
6 ÷ 1 x φ ÷ 8 x + 6 + g o l x ÷ 8 ÷ z + 6 x r p 1 + l7 y
÷ l4 + l n i 3 ÷ l f ÷ 1 i l + l y ÷ l + zz p 3 f ÷ z ÷
4 i z + 6 y d c l o z p l x i l f o l c z h r ÷ l + 6 ÷ 3 + z
p 1 + 1z + 6 h 4 l p l o l p 3 c 1 x + l0 + z3 ÷ lz n a l o
z m ÷ 3 a z + l h a z + 4 d + z g + 6 c 1 g p 3 ÷ 3 o z ÷
z h i z ÷ 8. 9 t 9 + l5 ÷ l k ÷ 4 + 1l o 3 g m p 1 i 3 p l p
3 i l c l p 3 h e l i z h o 3 f e l ÷ z. a z + 4 + 6 i z i l h i z
+ 1 + 6 o 3 h ÷ 5 + l e 1 ÷ z a 1 + 3 ÷ 7 r ÷ l o 3 ÷ 4
÷ 1 + 5 h p 1 n ÷ 3 + z g φ ÷ 6 i l ÷ 4 m + 5 l ÷ z +
l z + 1. c 1 c z p l 4 l φ p 3 f i z + 6 + 7 m + 5 + l h o z
p l h + ll + z + 3 + z g c 1 + l4 o z ÷ 6 k c z ÷ 5 + 6
÷ 3 ÷ 5 ÷ 7 i z c z h r ÷ 1 + 6 ÷ 3 a z + 4 o l s i 3 + 1
+ 6 + z r + 3 φ ÷ 4 ÷ l + 5 h i z + 1 p 3 + 3 ÷ z 6 ÷[310]
13 c z x ÷ 4 ÷ l + 6 ÷ 3 k a z + 4 ÷ ll. o 3 c 1 + lz ÷ 3
÷ 5 c z d + z y r + 3 ÷ g + 4 + l + 6 p 3 + 1 h + o z
+ g m + l x i l c l n ÷ n m + l ÷ g o l f i z o 3 x i l c l
p 3 + l x o 3 + z a l + 16 ÷ g d + 1 + l a z + z g ÷ l4
+ l o 3 φ u l o z f c z h s c 1 o 3 h p 1 + 4 l ÷ z g ÷ 3 h p
l p 3 n c l o 3 h i z ÷ 8 + 13 + l + 9 + z h + l0 + ll p
3 + 1 s r f + 6 ÷ 3 h o 3 + 8 h o 3 ÷ 4 ÷ g e l ÷ 3 x c l
÷ ll ÷ 1 ÷ g o z ÷ 10 + 5 u l ÷ 5 + 8 + 8 c l s + lz +
l3 e l o 3 φ ÷ g c z k i z f b l ÷ 6 l + 6 c 1 c z o l o z b r p 1
r + 3 ÷ l3 i 3 ÷ 6 s o z m + 6 ÷ l i z ÷ 8 r + 5 ÷ 3 l
÷ 1 l + 1 z x o z p l x + l4 ÷ l0 + 8 + 5 ÷ g f i z a z e l
o l o z φ + g o 1 h r + 11 f + 6 h g φ n + 3 ÷ 4 + 3 + l0
+ 6 h o z c l + 14 c l n o 3. a z + 4 c 1 9 f e l o 3 c l c z ÷
l4 o 3. x ÷ l3 i z d f p 3 c l 6 p l o z f i z i l p 3 c l x p l x o
z c l o z e l o 1 x u l p l o l p 3 ÷ 1z h ÷ z + 11 ÷ z + 3
+ z c l i z i 1 p 3 + 13. p l o l f e l c z ÷ l4 o 3 f h a z e l
c l x o 3 o l o z h + z ÷ 8 b 9 ÷ l6 e l ÷ l h i z f e l o 3 h
o 3 f e l c z c 1 i z o l p 3 c. l i z g p 3 o l c 1 i z k g o z p l u
l φ ÷ 5 + 8 p 3 c 1 h i z c l. r c 1 e l c z r p 1 o 3 x c l c z p
3 ÷ u x φ i z c z p l n ÷ 7 c l x b h o l c l n ÷ 8 x u l + 3
÷ 4 x p l 9 l c z p 3 c 1. i l o l o 3 d p 3 c l c z o l f i z x o l
c l o 3 c 1 p 3 f o l o 3 x u l p l d m ÷ 3 h r ÷ 1 + 6 p 3 k
9 f + 6 ÷ z c l c z x o z p l 4 l s ÷ l i z ÷ 8 s d ÷ z ÷ 6
÷ z ÷ l3 s o 3 o l h φ ÷ 8 9 f ÷ 5 + g h o z o 1 c l e z i l
c l i z x i 1 f e l ÷ l + 1l p 3 g e l i z. n + z n ÷ 7 i z c z
b g p l i 1 o l c l e l x p 1 p 3 p 3 o l 9 + 9 y p l e l r o z e l
c z s + a 5. b o z c l i l o l f x i l + l x o l ÷ i z + 8 o l c l
p 3.

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 1 2 1 1 2 3 2 1 2 2 3 2 3 2 4 2 3 4 2 5 4
p a d i c u l m o p o n i t r a p o c e q u e f i t a r a n t i m a t
a b c d e f g h i k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z a b c d e f g h i k

1 5 6 3 4 3 3 1 4 5 3 2 6. 2 6 3 7 4 2 3 7.
b i x a n t e r v o k o m b o. s i c i n d i o.
l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z. a b c d e f g h.

APPENDIX C.
(Correspondence of M. le Texier).

Having had nothing material to communicate to you since your departure from hence, I would not trouble you with my letters till I did hear from you, in consequence of our agreement, and now I find myself honoured with your's of the 22nd November and 5th December; both which, for reason of the early frost, and constant easterly wind, I did not receive but lately, and at a short distance from one another. I congratulate you very heartily upon the shortness of your passage, and happy arrival in London, and beg you'll accept of my sincere thanks for the friendly expressions of your letters, and the intelligence you are so obliging to impart to me. I make not the least doubt but you'll be able to employ your time a great deal better, and enjoy quite other pleasures in that great world, where you must almost be lost in, than you did in our little trading town of Hambro'. The inclosed letters which you transmitted to me, have been deliver'd according to your direction. You'll certainly hear from Mr. Holland directly. Mr. and Mrs. Matthiessen and their family, have often enquired for you, are verry glad of the intelligence I gave them from you, and that they may expect to see you, perhaps, in a short time, back again in those quarters, and do return their best compliments to you. I am glad[314] to hear that Garrick approves of the new play that is intended to be performed; but cannot help wondering at the same time of his backwardness of concurring more effectually in its execution; but this may perhaps comme in time, when he has more particularly digested the plan, and seen the first actors in motion. You don't tell me of having seen him yourself: this is, however, what I could have wished, as you are by far better able than Woodward to give him a clear idea of the whole, and remove such objection as he could have to it. I have not yet heard from Beard, tho' I suppose, he must be in correspondence with Holland. As to Foote, I had no letters from him, and none did I expect; as we agreed, before his departure, that he should not write, but when circumstances did absolutely require it. Do you think that Shutter will have orders to advance the performance of this play on the stage he is at this time engaged on, or that Garrick will, perhaps, chose somebody else for having the management of it there. I cannot tell you anything more on this subject till things are come to maturity. Meanwhile, if you hear of something which you think will be worth transmitting, I'll be obliged to you for the communication of it. Our German plays are interrupted till the beginning of February, and the Cristmass vacancies won't allow the balls at the Boselhoff till the latter end of this month. Last week I heard at a verry grand concert the famous violin player, Lolly, who is, perhaps, the greatest virtuoso on that instrument at present in Europe. It is said he'll visit Engeland, where, I dare say, he'll be as much admired as in the other places he has been. You don't tell me how you deal with pleasures and amusements; for my part, my dear friend, I catch as much of the sweets of life as time and circumstances will alow. You must take up with this dish of broken English as it is, and excuse the inaccuracies of it, provided only you are able to understand it. Let me hear from you, and believe me, at all events, your devoted humble servant and friend.

I have received consecutively, and very safely, four of your letters. The first from Z——, the second from Rotterdam, and the two last ones, from yᵉ 14th and 21st instant, from London, which give me a circumstantial account of your journey, and your transactions after your arrival at the last mention'd place. I should have answer'd them by the post of last Friday, if it had not been for the absence of Holland, who having been down to his estates for about 12 days, and beeing only return'd yesterday, it was only this morning I could communicate to him the contents of your last two letters. He is extremely satisfied; as, indeed, he ought to be, of the activity, the zeal, skil, and affection, with which you embrac'd and acted in the cause of Mrs. Yates, and pitty's only that all the trouble you have taken, and our endeavours, cannot prevail on Garrick's obstinacy to act his part in the manner the other actors desire it, in the new intended play, which may possibly be deficient in succes, in case he should persist in his refusal. As we have no intelligence as yet from Woodward or Beard (which we expect, however, every moment), we can form no judgment about his intentions, and therefore we are as little able to give you a cathegorical answer upon your question, whether we can make any further use of your services, or not? and, besides having no true account of the state of affairs from the stage where the play is to be acted. If the comedians have not been interrupted, if they know their parts, if the stage is adapted, if the machinery's are readdy, &c., of which I doubt very much. You must remember that at your departure things did not look very bright, and that we were in apprehension of some disagreable news. Tho' we don't know the circumstances of what has happened there, and tho' the pot is not entirely crack'd, or has not boil'd over, as a certain person express'd itself, something must, however, have been the matter, and discomposed for the present the arrangements that were made, as Mr. Reddish, and two others of the first actors, have left[316] the playhouse, and undertook a journey during this summer to the south of Germany, till the suspicions that probably have been raised are dissipated, and the difficulty's they met with have been removed, which we hope will be towards the winter, when they will all meet again on the stage to make a fresh rehearsal, of which the success may be less doubtfull, if Garrick will second them as he ought. But be the case what it will, we expect every day, and certainly in the course of next weak, ours and your good friend, Mr. Foote, who will certainly relieve us of our anxiety, clear our doubts, and lead us in the way to give you a clear and positive decision. Till then, my dear, good friend, you must be quiet, and remain where you are without taking any resolution (exept on Garrick's immediate orders). This is what Holland entreats you to mind till he has explained himself with Foote, which, as you see, will be very soon, assuring you upon his honour, that his first business will be to settle with him in what manner to employ you, and then to give you immediate and positive resolution if you are to continue in the same station, and send you a draught at the same time; or in case you were at present of no use for to bring the play on the stage, to entreat Mrs. Yates (who is already acquainted with your ability's), in the strongest terms to recommand you to her friend, Mr. Garrick. This, my dear friend, is all I can, and am commissioned to say to you upon this account. I hope my next will be more satisfactory to you; meanwhile be assured that Holland, as well as myself, we have the highest and best grounded esteem for your noble and disinterested way of thinking, and whatever be the event, we shall always congratulate ourself of having made your acquaintance, and cemented your friendship.

Holland begs to be excused in not writing to you himself, as he is extremely fatigued of his journey, and troubled with a vast deal of business which he found at his return; he begs you'll be so good to secure for him the chariot you have bespoke, for which he'll send you the draught you require. I am extremely satisfied with the manner in which you communicate to me what intelligence you give us, and which I understand perfectly. I wish mine were as intelligible[317] to you, which however I doubt of. Be so good, my dear friend, to continue in the same way, but observe at the same time, when you make the cover to Mr. Matthiessen, to lay a small bit of paper between the seal of my letters and Matthiessen cover, as one of them stuck so fast to it that it was tore to pieces in the opening of it, but happily there remained just so much of the seal that it could not be opened.

I'll be oblig'd to you for the books; my mother, brothers, sister, and her children, make their best compliments to you, and wish you health and pleasure. So do I do likewyse, my dear friend; farewell, and remember your devoted friend and servant.

By my next you shall have more, and perhaps a little tit-tat, which time won't allow at present.

I received in due time your favour of yᵉ 13th of June, which was soon followed by that of yᵉ second of the same month, accompanying a parcel of silk, and four books, three of which I delivered according to your orders, and kept the fourth to myself, as you desir'd me. Be so good to receive my most gratefull acknowledgement for this mark of your friendship. I have not yet found time sufficient to go through it with due attention, but I'll reserve the perusal of it for those hours which free from business I can devote to friendship, and shall look upon it as a conversation which cannot but afford me a great deal of pleasure, as anything that comes from the author will always be dear to me. When I deliver'd the silk to Holland, I communicated to him the contents of your first of the 13th of June; he join'd with me in his commendations with regard to your noble and disinterested way of thinking, and acknowledged the justness of your expectations with respect to Garrick. He assures you of the continuation of his friendship and esteem, and[318] desir'd me to tell you that he made repeated applications to Beard, for insisting with Woodward to recommand you to Garrick's remembrance; so that I don't doubt but you'll have heard by this time of something beeing done for you, the news of which will be most heartily wellcome to me, you may be assured. Foote has left this place some time ago; but he is soon to return, in order to be married to a young and amiable lady, one of the first family's of this country. He jointly with Holland, is in hopes that you have burnt all the letters and papers which you have received from the latter one, as well as from Miss Bonneval, respecting the unhappy affair that was the object of your correspondence; and they beg that you'll be so kind to confirm them in these hopes, for their future quiet and tranquillity. I expect, my dear friend, not only to receive of your letters, before you leave England, but even during your new intended travels, when you'll be at leisure, and your thaughts will bring you back to this place, where you have undoubtedly left a great many friends, some of which are strongly attach'd to you, and more particularly Bonneval's family. They all of them beg that you'll accept of their best compliments and hearty wishes for your wellfare.

It is with astonishment and sorrow I have read in the several papers the account of the bloody scene exhibited in America. Is it possible that the spirit of rebellion (for as far as I am able to judge I cannot call it liberty) has raised their madness so far as to make them run blindly to their destruction? for what will be the consequence of all this? a shocking bloodshed between children of the same mother, a total destruction of their property, and the utter ruin of all commerce and trade in those parts of the world, while a storm is preparing at this side of the water, which may perhaps strike a fatal blow to Old England, without being able to prevent it. What would become of Brittain's grandeur, if this great Spanish Armada was intended on your coasts, or on some of your American settlements? This opinion gains generally ground here, and few people think this undertaking to be only for the barbarian coast. But what is still more astonishing, is the spirit of division that prevails[319] in the metropolis, and the outrageous conduct of part of its citisents; nothing remains but they should likewise take up arms, in order to render the scene compleat. I pitty with all my heart those who are at the helm; and from my peaceable hermitage (which you have seen), when stretched upon my sopha, I cannot help smiling at the reading of your brilliant regattas and sommer diversions, amidst all those clamours, and while half of the nation is under arms, or preparing themselves to be so. But enough of this. Comment vont les plaisirs, and les amours? I wish you success in both. God bless you, my dear sir; remember him who is very cordialy your devoted humble friend and servant.

It was not but yesterday I receiv'd your's of yᵉ 21st July, as we had then two mails due from England, and much about the same time, or a little after you have dispatch'd it, my last (which was wrote about the middle of the same month) must have come to your hands, if it did come at all, for I cannot account for its delay, having desired my sister to have it put in the Post Office. I gave you an account in it of the several applications Holland had made on your behalf to Beard, relative to Woodward's putting Garrick in mind of you; the assurances we had got from Beard of his having acted according to his promiss, and the ignorance we then were in of its success. I have only the time to acquaint you now, that I saw Holland this morning, who told me of Beard mentioning in a letter he had lately receiv'd, that he hoped to have in a few days something to communicate to him about you. That he, Holland, is expecting this intelligence with the greatest impatience, and that as soon as he shall have received it, he will immediately do himself the pleasure of writing to you, in order to acquaint you of it. But, my dear sir, how are we to act in directing our letters to you? as I see it is[320] your intention to set out from England after the 14th of this month. At all events I'll direct what I have to send to you at the direction you left me at your departure, and which I make use of now, in the supposition that you'll leave such orders that anything will be transmitted to you. I have likewise to acknowledge the favour of your former, including a column of the newspapers, for the communication of which I am most sincerely oblig'd to you. I find this account wrote with elegance, and that warm interest the subject requir'd, and don't doubt it will answer the intention it was design'd with. You see, my dearest friend, that our ignorance is the sole cause of our silence, and thus I hope you'll be persuaded to pardon it, and not adscribe it to ingratitude and oblivion, which are sentiments that will never find entrance in our breast; but, on the contrary, be assured that we wish nothing with more ardor then to see you happy, and to see you rewarded, as you deserve it, by someboddy else, it beeing not in our power to effect it, but by our repeated intercessions, which I still hope will have their effect. I must finish here, in order not to miss the time of the post office. Thus farewell, and remember him who is with the sincerest affection your devoted friend and servant.

Not only, my dearest friend, several little excursions in the country, but also our friend Holland's absence, who did return only since a couple of days, have prevented my answering immediately the very kind letter which you favour'd me with on the 18th of January. It gave me an uncommon pleasure to hear of you, after so long a silence, which I could very well account for, as I knew that you was again on a visit on the Continent. I understand that you did not follow your first plan of crossing the Pirrenean mountains, and going to the south of Spain, for else you would have received a letter[321] which I directed to you at Madrid, a la poste restante, in September last, as we did agree. If it be lost, there is no great news in it, as it contain'd nothing material. It was only une lettre d'amitié, and an enquiry after your health, with a short account of our doing here in the usual stile.

I give you my most sincere thanks for the sentiments of friendship and affection which you honour me with; be assured of the most hearty return, not only from me, but likewise from our friends Holland and Foote, and of the gratefull sense we do all retain of your noble and generous behaviour. Believe me, dear sir, that it gives us the greatest pain and sorrow to hear that nothing has been done as yet on your behalf from Garrick's side, notwithstanding Beard's strong recommendations thro' Woodward's channel. Beard expresses his astounishment at it as well as Holland, and we are entirely at a loss how to account for Garrick's neglect, in not making you a return so justly deserved, and which can come from him only. I do not doubt a moment of Woodward having made all possible applications, and in that supposition, the critical circumstances of Garrick's own affairs, and the hurry and perplexity he has been in, can alone account for his behaviour. Holland desires that you will be assured of his esteem, of his attachment and friendship for you, and how much he wishes to convince you of those sentiments, nothing will be able to efface them out of his heart; and the same I dare answer for Foote, whom we have not seen since last summer, but who is expected here at the beginning of August. As all the hopes of renewing a theatrical entertainement are entirely dropt, you may easily imagin that Beard and Holland do but seldom correspond together, and yet only on friendly terms.

I wish that the presenting the prints may open the way of helping you to Garrick's remembrance, and if means could be found out of being presented to him yourself, this, I dare say, would be of more effect.

I paid for the hire of the carriage at Utrecht according to your desire. Caillé had an opportunity to send hither a person of his[322] acquaintance, to whom I paid the money, and who gave me a receipt for it, so that this point is settled.

I was extremely welcome to my mother and brother, and likewyse to Mr. M——'s family, with the news of having received a letter from you. They were greatly rejoiced at hearing you were well, and safe return from your late excursion. They beg you'll accept of the return of their best compliments, and hearty sallutation to you. Mrs. S—— had the misfortune of loosing again two childern last winter, but three weeks ago she was brought to bed of a boy; this does partly make up the former loss. However, her constitution is much hurt, and she enjoys but very little health.—I would be much obliged to you, if at your leisure moments you would favour me with a short account of your late excursion, and how you was pleased in that tour; for such an attentive traveller as you are, I dare say nothing will have escaped your inspection. I must acknowledge to you that I am tired with the sedentary life I lead here, and the insignificant business I am employ'd in; and between you and me I have made application of beeing sent to England; in how far I shall be able to succeed in this attempt I cannot tel, however, I have some hopes. How happy should I be if I could have the pleasure of meeting you in England, and embracing him whom I esteem and love with all my heart. This, my dear sir, you may be assured of from your affectionate and most devoted friend and servant.

You must pardon me, my dear friend, if I deferred returning an immediate answer to your kind letter of yᵉ 30th July. Holland's absence, and Foote not being at that time arrived, put it out of my power to give you a satisfactory one, before I had seen either of them. They are both here now, and have retain'd for you the same sentiments of friendship and esteem which you have impress'd them[323] with at the beginning of our mutual acquaintance. They acknowledge the justice of your claim on their warmest interest and recommendation on your behalf. They were even beforehand in offering to renew them, and to do anything in their power which might be of further service to you; but they cannot help beeing surprised that all their wishes and join'd endeavours with Beard, have hitherto been unsuccessfull on that subject. How is it possible that Garrick, who makes pretention on feeling and sentiments, can be regardless to the services you intended him, and in which you have so effectually been employed? This strange behaviour is above their conception. However, as they are willing to account for this, more than seeming, neglect, on behalf of the hurry of business, and the many vexations he has labour'd under this year past, they hope that repeated application will be of better effect. Foote, you will remember, has never been in any direct intercourse with Beard or Woodward. But Holland not only accepted writing again in the strongest terms, but told me that having had some time ago a rendez-vous with Beard, you took up great part of their conversation, in which he dwelt upon the absolute necessity that something ought to be done for you, and that they both would write to Woodward on that subject; so that you may be sure, my dear friend, if their goodwill can have any effect, and their recommendation any weight upon Garrick, you cannot, with the help of your friends in England, fail of being successful in your attempt to get a place, the intelligence of which will give me, as you may easily guess, the most complete satisfaction; and so I am positive it would also to Foote and Holland, who, I can assure you, do lament at each time that I do mention you to them, their incapacity of serving you according to their heart's desire, and do constantly express in the most distinguished expression, their high esteem for your personal quality's and noble way of thinking, and their perfect gratitude for your behaviour in general. Those sentiments they will certainly never part with; and they beg that you will do them the favour to continue that friendship for them, of which you have given them such uncontestable proofs; and give me leave,[324] my dear friend, to join my request to theirs, that I may retain the same share in your remembrance.

Mr. and Mrs. M——, and their family, are highly pleased, as well as my mother and brother, to hear of you; they desire that you'll be so good to accept of their best compliments. Mr. Mathias is very much obliged to you for your kind remembrance, wishes you a great deal of good, and gives his best salutes to you.

I will be vastly obliged to you for the new production of your pen, which you are so good to promiss me. I wait for them with impatience, as they will in a manner make me amends for our separation, and let me enjoy your company, at least, in idea.

I have but little hopes remaining of beeing successful in my application for a change in my situation. Tho' I do not give them up entirely for the future, I cannot flatter myself for the present of being so happy to make a trip to Albion, unless some unexpected events would open the way for it.

I perceive that the last disagreable news from the North American Continent, have but little influence on the uninterrupted pleasures of your town. However, the success of the present civil war cannot fail of drawing the most serious consequences at their issue, and of bringing on a prodigious change in a great many fortunes. Well! but let them fight and quarrel as long as they please, I won't much trouble my head about it; but I will ever be ready to convince you that I am sincerely,

I can now very easily account, my dear friend, for Beard's silence with regard to your last letter. His absence from his ordinary place of abode, is undoubtedly the only reason of your having been without any news from him since the latter end of June. He has made a tour to Saxony, where he intended staying two or three[325] months, but would be back towards the end of this month; this is what I could learn from our friend Holland, who has likewise been a very long time without his letters (their litterary intercourse being now almost dropt). He thinks your letter cannot be lost, but supposes it has been left at Z——, or only been sent of late to him on his tour; so that you will have receiv'd now, or will probably in a short time, the answer you expected; meanwhile you may, my dear sir, make yourself very easy about the fate of your letter, which certainly cannot be lost. Surprising it is that all applications made on your behalf have hitherto been without effect; nevertheless, I am of opinion you must not give up the hope of success; a favourable moment will probably come, and Woodward will no doubt sease it to remind Garrick of your services. I cannot help having some apprehensions with regard to your intention, which you communicate to me in your last letter, of putting in order the anecdotes relative to Mrs. Yates, in a kind of memoirs; not, my dear sir, that I have the least doubt of your prudence and discretion; but you must know how easily an unforeseen accident may happen which can occasion the los of such a paper, which falling in other hands would certainly be published to the world, and what would be the consequence for those who have had any share in its contents? at least you will, no doubt, keep their names to yourself, and interwow the whole in such a manner, that it must remain untelligible to all those who are no knowing ones. I leave this to your caution, and we all depend upon your known prudence. Both Holland and Foote, who is return'd about a fortnight ago, where his business does call him in the winter time, desire that you'll be assured of their everlasting friendship and esteem.

All your acquaintances here present their best compliments to you. There is since a couple of days a general rumor here of an approaching war. This will to all appearances occasion some more activity in trade, as well as in polliticks. Adieu, my dear friend; I wish you health and pleasure, and beg you will believe me very sincerly and faithfully, yours.

Yours, my dear friend, of yᵉ 26th Nov. and 5th Dec., arrived at one and the same day, as we had three English mails due, owing to the east wind that has constantly blown this long while; and as I have desired, once for all, that any letter which comes from you should remain at my mother's house till I come to fetch it in person; they were not delivered to me till the day before yesterday, so that you must not be surprised at having received no immediate answer to them.

So agreeable your letters have hitherto been to me, so very deeply has the last one affected me. The intelligence you give me, and which accounts at the same time for the presentation of the memoirs in question to Garrick, has afflicted me beyond expression. You cannot, you must not doubt, my dearest friend, of the part I take in the most minutest thing that may interest your wellfare. How should I not feel for your concerns? but at the same time how great are you in my Eeyes, how great must you be in the Eeyes of those who are acquainted with your principles, with the motives that do lead you in this occasion? Be assured that if anything could add to the esteem which you have commanded from me, from Holland and Foote, it would be the disclosure you have now made. I do conceive how it could have hurt your pride with narrow-minded souls; but with us it cannot. Men of honour and feeling, like you, are much above the caprices of fortune, and I am assured that its inconsistencies cannot in any degree affect their way of thinking. We have too many proofs of your strickt honour, disinterestedness, and even self-denial, to harbour the least doubt of any change of sentiment on your side. Not indeed, be easy on that account. Far from disapproving your plan, I would be the first to advise it; so does Holland, so would Foote. Happy we would be if we had interest enough with Garrick to contribute to its success. You know, my dear friend, how deeply we are obliged to you, and how much we have wished to convince you of our gratitude; but, at the same[327] time how unsuccessfull all our endeavours and applications have been. I approve much of your letting Woodward know of your intended plan; he must, and certainly will back it by his interest, and I hope that this will do at least. We have almost lost sight of him, and so likewise of Beard; I don't even know with certitude if he is returned, tho' I suppose he must be so at this time. Holland, who is very sickly, and has been so the whole winter, has not received any letters from him since his departure. Foote is return to the capital, as I told you, and will not visit our quarters before next summer.

Do believe me, my dear friend, that I don't mind any loss of time or expence in our intercourse. I wish to hear from you; your letters are always wellcome to me, and give me a particular satisfaction. This will reach you by the new direction you have given me, and at the same time you'll receive two lines by the former way in order to acquaint you of it. Let me know by your first which of the two I shall keep for the future. All your friends here return their best compliments to you, and wish you well. So does he who is very sincerely and affectionately yours.

It is a long time since I had any of your letters, and it will be near the same that I did not do myself the pleasure of writing to you. What is become of you since, and what has been the success of your application with Garrick? Those, my dear sir, are natural questions from the part of him that interests himself so warmly for you as I do. It would afford me the greatest pleasure if you could see the accomplishment of your desires. Mine did not succeed according to the hopes I had form'd. I have been obliged to relinquish the idea of beeing employed at London, having lately been nominated to the post of Resident at Dantzig, where I expect to be[328] setled towards the end of this year; but first I'll be obliged to go to C——, and intend setting out next week thither. So, my dear friend, that if you do me the pleasure of giving me some news of your welfare, you wil be so good to direct them, during the remainder of this year, at our old direction, where I have given orders that your letters should be kept til my return. You'll however observe not to mention anything of the old topic in them, for fear of their miscarrying, and when I shal have reach'd my new destination, I'll give you another direction for the future, for I should be glad to cultivate our correspondence, and the friendship which has subsisted between us. Be assured, my dear friend, that where ever my fate may dispose of me, I shall desire the continuance of it, for him that is for ever with a sincere esteem, your devoted friend and servant.

INDEX TO VOL. III.
HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL.

THIRD EDITION.

ILLUSTRATED HORSE DOCTOR:

Being an Accurate and Detailed Account, accompanied by more than 400 Pictorial Representations, characteristic of the various Diseases to which the Equine Race are subjected; together with the latest Mode of Treatment, and all the Requisite Prescriptions written in Plain English.

BY EDWARD MAYHEW, M.R.C.V.S.,

Author of "The Illustrated Horse Management."

In 8vo, price 18s. 6d., cloth.

Mr. Mayhew's ILLUSTRATED HORSE DOCTOR, and his companion volume, THE ILLUSTRATED HORSE MANAGEMENT, should be in the possession of all who keep horses.

CONTENTS:

THE BRAIN AND NERVOUS SYSTEM.—Phrenitis; Abscess within the brain; Staggers; Sleepy Staggers and Mad Staggers; Megrims; Hydrophobia; Tetanus; Stringhalt; Partial Paralysis; Gutta Serena.

THE EYES.—Simple Ophthalmia; Specific Ophthalmia; Cataract; Fungoid Tumours within the substance of the Eye; Lacerated Eyelid; Impediment in the Lachrymal Duct.

THE MOUTH.—Excoriated Angles of the Mouth; Parrot Mouth; Lampas; Injuries to the Jaw; Aphtha; Lacerated Tongue; Teeth; Scald Mouth.

THE NOSTRILS.—Cold; Nasal Polypus; Nasal Gleet; Highblowing and Wheezing.

THE THROAT.—Sore Throat; Cough; Laryngitis; Roaring; Choking; Rupture and Stricture of the Œsophagus; Bronchocele.

THE CHEST AND ITS CONTENTS.—Congestion in the Field; Congestion in the Stable; Bronchitis, or Inflammation of the Air Passages; Pneumonia, or Inflammation of the Lungs; Pleurisy; Hydrothorax; Disease of the Heart.

THE STOMACH, LIVER, &C.—Spasm of the Diaphragm; Acute Gastritis; Chronic Gastritis; Bots; Chronic Hepatitis; Crib-biting.

THE ABDOMEN.—Enteritis; Acute Dysentery; Chronic Dysentery; Acites, or Dropsy of the Abdomen; Influenza; Abdominal Injuries; Worms; Spasmodic Colic, Fret, Gripes; Windy Colic.

THE URINARY ORGANS.—Nephritis, or Inflammation of the Kidneys; Cystitis, or Inflammation of the Bladder; Spasm of the Urethra; Calculi; Hæmaturia, or Bloody Urine; Diabetes Insipidus, or Profuse Staling; Albuminous Urine.

The Skin.—Mange; Prurigo; Ringworm; Surfeit; Hide-bound; Lice; Larva in the Skin; Warts; Tumours; Swollen Legs; Sitfast; Grease; Mallenders and Sallenders; Cracked Heels.

SPECIFIC DISEASES.—Broken Wind; Mellanosis; Water Farcy; Purpura Hæmorrhagica; Strangles; Glanders.

LIMBS.—Osseous Deposits; Spavin; Splint; Ringbone; Strain of the Flexor Tendon; Clap of the Back Sinews; Sprain of the Back Sinews; Breaking Down; Curb; Occult Spavin; Rheumatism; Windgalls; Bog Spavin; Thoroughpin; Capped Knee; Capped Hock; Capped Elbow; Luxation of the Patella; Blood Spavin.

THE FEET.—Lameness; Pumice Foot; Sandcrack; False Quarter; Seedy Toe; Tread and Over-reach; Corns; Quittor; Canker; Thrush; Ossified Cartilages; Acute Laminitis, or Fever in the Feet; Sub-Acute Laminitis; Navicular Disease.

INJURIES.—Poll Evil; Fistulous Withers; Fistulous Parotid Duct; Phlebitis, or Inflammation of the Vein; Broken Knees; Open Synovial Cavities; Open Synovial Joints; Wounds.

OPERATIONS.—Tracheotomy; Periosteotomy; Neurotomy; Division of the tendons; Quittor.

[17]

CRITICAL NOTICES.

FIELD, July 28, 1863.—"The book contains nearly 600 pages of valuable matter, which reflects great credit on its author, and, owing to its practical details, the result of deep scientific research, deserves a place in the library of medical, veterinary, and non-professional readers."

ATHENÆUM, August 4, 1860.—"Mr. Mayhew has written several works on the diseases, with details of the anatomy, of animals. His accuracy is great. The chapters are well arranged. Each speaks of the diseases of one part of the equine frame. The illustrations to these are excellent. The operations are accurately described; not the slightest useful hint is forgotten; while to render this portion more intelligible, diagrams of the parts to be operated on, with views of the instruments, are generally given; and the prescriptions, as stated in the title-page, are made out in English. The causes, symptoms, and treatment of diseases are briefly recorded in a summary, forming an appendix. We conclude by commending Mr. Mayhew's book, especially to every possessor of the most useful of the 'servants of man.'"

ILLUSTRATED NEWS.—"The great mass of the illustrations are wonderfully faithful, and they are so varied and interesting that we would undertake to get rid of the most confirmed bore that ever pressed heavily on mankind for a good two hours by only handing him the book, and directing his attention to them. It is a well-known fact that grooms only remember the names of four or five diseases, and are sadly indiscriminate in their knowledge of symptoms. This book furnishes at once the bane and the antidote, as the drawings show the horse not only suffering from every kind of disease, but in the different stages of it, while the alphabetical summary at the end gives the cause, symptoms, and treatment of each."

GLOBE.—"Every gentleman who possesses or cares for horses, would do well to keep this book in his house."

ERA.—"We advisedly say that 'The Illustrated Horse Doctor' is the very best book of the kind which we know; and what gives it an especial charm is, that the author so thoroughly sympathises with the noble animal which he describes. Without pretending to go into any analysis of this valuable work, we at once pronounce it as scientific, yet intelligible; informing, yet highly amusing; acceptable to the profound horse-doctor, yet the work of all others for the bookshelves in every gentleman's sanctum."

ARMY AND NAVY GAZETTE.—"Mr. Mayhew's volume will, we imagine, meet with a hearty welcome. It is just such a good practical work on the Veterinary Art as most of us horse-using (and not unfrequently, we fear, abusing) Englishmen have long felt the need of.—We must not conclude our remarks without commenting on the numerous wood-cuts with which the volume is embellished. It is truly, as it professes to be, an 'Illustrated Horse Doctor.'"

ILLUSTRATED TIMES.—"Many years ago the writer of these lines was incidentally 'read up' in horse literature, and a good deal in the way of sporting people. His reading and observation in that way have been very pleasantly recalled by this model book. We need not waste words about this admirable volume—manual, we were going to say, but it is more of an armful than a handful. It is quite beyond praise of ours in its completeness and general excellence, concerned as it is our lot to be with the study instead of the steed. But we showed it to a friend of ours (living at Horsely-down), who spends his mornings at Tattersall's and his afternoons at the Alhambra, and his evenings at Astley's, and his criticism was conveyed in these emphatic words. 'Sir,' said he (his name is Ryder), 'it is the Buchan's Domestic Medicine of the stable; the mantle of Bucephalus has fallen upon Mr. Mayhew.' Every way the work is interesting, and it is beautifully got up; the paper and print being the best we have seen for some time."

TEA CULTIVATION,

COTTON AND OTHER AGRICULTURAL EXPERIMENTS IN INDIA.

BY W. NASSAU LEES, LL.D.

In 8vo, price 8s. 6d.

The Illustrated

HORSE MANAGEMENT,

CONTAINING

DESCRIPTIVE REMARKS UPON ANATOMY, MEDICINE, SHOEING, TEETH, FOOD, VICES, STABLES;

LIKEWISE

A PLAIN ACCOUNT OF THE SITUATION, NATURE, AND VALUE OF THE VARIOUS POINTS;

TOGETHER WITH

COMMENTS ON GROOMS, DEALERS, BREEDERS, BREAKERS, AND TRAINERS;

ALSO ON CARRIAGES AND HARNESS.

Embellished with more than 400 Engravings from Original Designs made expressly for this Work.

BY EDWARD MAYHEW, M.R.C.V.S.,

Author of "The Illustrated Horse Doctor," and other works.

In One Volume 8vo, pp. 612.

CONTENTS:

THE BODY of the horse anatomically considered.

PHYSIC.—The mode of administering it, and minor operations.

SHOEING.—Its origin, its uses, and its varieties.

THE TEETH.—Their natural growth, and the abuses to which they are liable.

FOOD.—The fittest time for feeding, and the kind of food which the horse naturally consumes.

THE EVILS which are occasioned by modern stables.

THE FAULTS inseparable from most present erections which are used as stables.

THE SO-CALLED "INCAPACITATING VICES," which are the results of injury or of disease.

STABLES as they should be.

GROOMS.—Their prejudices, their injuries, and their duties.

HORSE DEALERS.—Who they are; their mode of dealing; their profits; their morality, and their secrets.

POINTS.—Their relative importance, and where to look for their development.

BREEDING.—Its inconsistencies and its disappointments.

BREAKING AND TRAINING.—Their errors and their results.

CARRIAGES.—Their cost; their make; their excellences and their management.

SADDLERY, HARNESS, AND STABLE SUNDRIES.—Of what these consist; their application and their preservation.

Mr. Mayhew's ILLUSTRATED HORSE DOCTOR, and his companion volume, THE ILLUSTRATED HORSE MANAGEMENT, should be in the possession of all who keep horses.

[19]

CRITICAL NOTICES.

ATHENÆUM, Feb. 20, 1864.—"Mr. Mayhew thoroughly comprehends the matter, and all masters of studs—we may say, every owner of a single pony or ass—will derive much profit and an equal amount of pleasure by perusing this volume; for the book is not only distinguished by common sense, but by its power of amusing. We never met with a volume which more honestly and efficiently carried out the promise made on its title-page. A large amount of English life, ways, manners, morals, dodges and doings is described by Mr. Mayhew, as well as more serious matter connected with the question which he so ably handles."

STANDARD, Jan. 27, 1864.—"It is, perhaps, the most perfect work yet published upon the management of horses. Everywhere Mr. Mayhew writes ably and readably, and with neither fear nor favour; his observations always commend themselves to one's understanding, and he hits fairly many blots in our present system of management. The engravings are exceedingly well executed, and they illustrate the text actually as well as nominally."

OBSERVER, Jan. 10, 1864.—"Mr. Mayhew is already favourably known to a large number of persons interested in the management of horses by a former work, with the title of the 'Illustrated Horse Doctor,' and the volume under notice will certainly add considerably to his reputation for extensive knowledge and thorough acquaintance with the subject with which he professes to deal. Mr. Mayhew also has some very useful remarks on the situation, nature and value of the various points to be looked for by the purchaser of a horse, and this useful information is supplemented by some very excellent and truthful remarks upon grooms, dealers, breeders, breakers and trainers, the whole forming a most valuable work for guidance and reference, and displaying in every page an earnest desire to improve the condition and treatment of one of the noblest and most serviceable animals provided for the use of man."

SPECTATOR, Feb. 6, 1864.—"No horseman who can afford to buy it will regret the purchase of Mr. Mayhew's 'Illustrated Horse Management.'"

BELL'S MESSENGER.—"There can be no question that Mr. Mayhew is the most competent man of the day for the task which he has undertaken, and we must add most satisfactorily accomplished. 'The Illustrated Horse Management' may be fitly termed an encyclopædia of all that relates to the horse, and the several uses to which it can be applied. We, therefore, earnestly recommend this handsome volume to our readers, with the conviction that every one who cares for his horse can profitably and pleasurably consult its well-stored pages."

SUN, Jan. 19, 1864.—"We have read Mr. Mayhew's book with all the attention which it so eminently merits, and we have no hesitation in asserting that it is the most comprehensive and instructive work on the subject of horse management which we have ever had the luck to meet with. The 'Illustrated Horse Management' is a work which should find a place in the library of every country gentleman, for the most experienced may derive benefit from its perusal."

NONCONFORMIST, March 9, 1864.—"Grooms hate their masters to be too knowing, but whoever shall quietly study this book, and make it his guide for a few weeks in the observation and control of his own stable, will not afterwards feel himself to be dependent on his servants. Mr. Mayhew writes clearly, forcibly, and delightfully, and we earnestly recommend his book to every one who is the owner of even a pony for his children's use, while those who have extensive stables should read and read again every paragraph of its closely packed contents."

GLOBE, Feb. 22, 1864.—"Mr. Mayhew writes on a subject of which he is master; and his new book is a work of care, experience and general enlightenment, as concerns the management of horses."

ECONOMIST, March 5, 1864.—"The 'Illustrated Horse Management,' by Edward Mayhew, is really a very useful book to all who are concerned with horses, either for pleasure or profit. To English farmers, who may be induced to breed horses, the various points of management which are insisted on by Mr. Mayhew in ample detail have a money value."

THE HORSES OF THE SAHARA,

And the Manners of the Desert.

BY E. DAUMAS,

General of the Division Commanding at Bordeaux, Senator, &c., &c.

WITH COMMENTARIES BY THE EMIR ABD-EL-KADER (Authorized Edition).

In 8vo, cloth, price 10s. 6d., by post 11s. 2d.

CONTENTS:

Part I.

SOURCES OF INFORMATION.

Remarks by the Emir Abd-el-Kader.—Treatise on the Horse.

ON THE ORIGIN OF THE ARAB HORSE.—Four great epochs; Creation of the horse; Change of coat; Moral qualities of the thorough-bred.

THE BARB.—Oneness of the race; Letter from M. Lesseps on the Alexandria races; Weight carried by African horses.

Traditional love of the horse; Arab proverbs.

Superiority of the horses of the Sahara.

BREEDS.—Incontestable purity of the Saharene Barb; Endurance of the Arab; Two varieties of the horse.

THE SIRE AND THE DAM.—Mare and foal; Influence of the sire; Purity of race.

REARING AND BREAKING IN.—Early training; Elementary Exercises; Names.

DIET.—Camel's and ewe's milk; Dates; Green food; Repose and fat injurious to a horse.

GROOMING, HYGIENE, PROPORTIONS.—Selection of food and water; How to foretell the size and character of a horse; Ingenious measurements.

COATS.—Variety of colours; White spots; Tufts; Favourite coats; Objectionable coats.

ON CHOOSING AND PURCHASING HORSES.

SHOEING.—Farriers; their privileges and tools; Cold shoeing.

THE HARNESS.—The Arab saddle; Advantages of the Arab system.

MAXIMS OF THE ARAB CAVALIER.—Endurance; Making the horse a study.

Horse-racing among the Arabs.

ABD-EL-KADER ON THE ARAB HORSE.—Examples of endurance; Reasons for early training; High price of mares; Identity of the Arab and the Barb; General instructions; Draught horses.

THE WAR HORSE.—His form and qualities.

Part II.—The Manners of the Desert.

The Arab horse derives his character from his Arab master.

THE SAHARA, BY ABD-EL-KADER.

THE RAZZIA.—Three kinds of razzia: the Tehha, the Khrotefa, the Terbigue; Episodes; Popular chaunt; The combat; Circumstantial details.

THE KHRIANIA, OR THEFT.—Horse, camel, and sheep stealing; Superstitions.

WAR BETWEEN DESERT TRIBES.—Motives; Proclamation of war; Summoning allies; Departure; Amorous intrigues; Thefts; Scouts; Preliminaries of peace; Saharene diplomacy; Conclusion of peace; Hostilities; The eve of battle; Challenges; War cries; The Battle; Defeat; Victory; Anecdotes.

Lamentations of an Arab warrior.

USAGES OF WAR.—Distribution of the plunder; The chief; Loan of a horse; Female spectators of the battle.

The horse of noble race.

OSTRICH HUNTING.—On horseback; Details of the excursion; From an ambush; Habits of the ostrich.

GAZELLE HUNTING.—The Greyhound.

HAWKING.

THE CHACE, BY ABD-EL-KADER.—The gazelle; The hyæna; The panther; The lion; modes of hunting.

THE CAMEL.—Management, Diet, &c.

THE SHEEP.—Immense flocks; Their usefulness in the Sahara.

LIFE IN THE DESERT.—The villager; The master of the tent; Sobriety; Runners; Inventory of a wealthy Arab's fortune; His occupations; Armourers; Legislation; Women's employment; Hospitality; Mendicants; Sorcerers; Magic; Religion.

THE ARAB ARISTOCRACY.—The thorny shrub and the date-tree; The Sherifs; The marabouts and the djouad; A great tent; The vendetta; Examples; Blood money; Lex talionis; Birth, education, and marriage; Polygamy; An Arab interior; Amusements; Death; Funeral rites.

OBSERVER, May 3, 1863.—"There is not a page in this book from which we may not gather useful hints or valuable information respecting the nature, habits and management of horses."

EDINBURGH COURANT.—"We have rarely read a work giving a more picturesque and, at the same time, practical account of the manners and customs of a people, than this book on the Arabs and their horses."

FOOTNOTES:

[1] To form an idea of the pretended denunciation made by the king to the commission, it is only necessary to observe that page Schack, who was the intermediary, received for this gratifications and an employment whose appointments amounted to 4,000 crowns a-year.—Mémoires de Falckenskjold, p. 214.

[2] An allusion to King Frederick III., who was fond of the bowl, and in his orgies permitted a general fraternity. In reference to this remark of the advocate, Mr. Wraxall says (in his "Northern Tour"): "This seems more like the speech of an Englishman than a Dane, and breathes a manly and unfettered spirit."

[3] This letter no longer exists, and was, in all probability, suppressed by the commission.

[4] On this point Reverdil writes: "The bailiwick of Bramstedt, bordering that held by M. Brandt the elder, was situated in the southernmost province of the kingdom, and near Hamburg. This remote province, consequently, suited him better than any other, and what he solicited as an exile, and to some extent as the equivalent of a capital punishment, would have been to any other person a very considerable recompense, and the end desired by some old servant of the state for a life usefully devoted to the advantage of the country."

[5] This is translated verbatim from the original, published in 1772, a copy of which was forwarded me from the Danish Foreign Office.

[6] These adherents who aided in the suppression of the privy council were Rantzau and Köller, that is to say, the men who figured among the principal enemies and accusers of Struensee. It was Rantzau who invented the decree that suppressed this council.—Falckenskjold, p. 205.

[7] Did they forget that the constitution which governs Denmark gives the king absolute power? Could not the king dismiss one of his officers without form of trial or the intervention of justice? Remember, that those who brought this charge against Struensee also removed from office persons who displeased them, and even deprived them of their liberty and property. What I personally experienced certainly places me in the position to judge.—Falckenskjold, p. 205.

[8] A reference to the sieges of Charles X. in 1658 and 1659, and more especially to the violent assault by the Swedes on the night of February 11, 1659, which was repulsed by the citizens, and to the conduct of the Copenhageners at the Diet of 1660, when the sovereignty was handed over to Frederick III., and the previous electoral kingdom was converted into an agnatic-cognatic Denmark-Norway, exclusive of the German Duchies and counties.

[9] This accusation is devoid of truth. Brandt could not always be about his Majesty. The truth is, that the king was no more difficult to approach under Struensee's administration than he had been under the previous ministry. He was frequently alone, and I saw him arrive thus at Gripsholm. It was after the fall of Struensee that the king, being closely watched, was only accessible as far as pleased the dominant party.—Falckenskjold, p. 205.

[10] I may remark that Struensee had a salary of 1,500 crowns as secretary to the cabinet; that he afterwards had 3,000 in his quality of councillor; that he lived inexpensively and dressed plainly; that only a few days before his fall he set up his carriage, the magnificence of which was imputed as a crime—it was a carriage in the English style, without gilding or painting, lined with straw-coloured cloth. Guldberg, who charged him with avidity, afterwards thought proper to accept a gratification of 100,000 crowns in one sum, by a note signed by the king.—Falckenskjold, p. 208.

[11] If Struensee's enemies had not been his accusers and judges, they would not have compared a small present made to the queen with what the king gave to simple private persons without fortune, whom he had summoned and admitted to his familiarity. They would not have pretended to be ignorant why Struensee wrote the accounts of May, 1771, and did not write the following accounts when he had ceased to be cabinet secretary.—Falckenskjold, p. 206.

[12] Struensee had no more power on this account than when he was merely master of requests and private secretary to the king. The great reforms were effected while he occupied those two posts. Besides, according to the royal law, "the king can appoint any minister under such title and with such power as he pleases." It was no contravention of the law to accept an office which the king could give and revoke at his pleasure; but, with such a law as that of Denmark, weight may be attached to any sort of accusation. Count de St. Germain was accused of infringing the royal law, because he proposed to raze the useless fortresses and dress the army in blue. The first Bernstorff was also accused of contravention of the Lex Regia when he was dismissed. The persons who condemned Struensee to death for having encroached on the absolute power of the king, issued the following decree on February 13, 1772, or while the trial was going on:—

"All orders shall be drawn up by the council and through the council. No order given directly by the king shall be carried into effect, unless the bearer of it has made application to the department which it concerns, and this department has acknowledged the said order."—Falckenskjold, p. 208.

[13] It was, on the contrary, Struensee's principle to purge the army and civil service of foreigners, and only to leave natives; the reform had already been effected in this way in the regiment of Seeland Dragoons. Braëm, one of the commissioners to try Struensee, was well aware of this, as he was a member of the War Department.—Falckenskjold, p. 209.

[14] The order concerning this reform is the only one which Struensee was accused of having issued without the king's privity. The War Department, of which I was a member, received on December 21 the Minutes of this order for the disbandment of the Foot Guards; it made no protest; it did not ask that the minute should be signed by the king, which was not necessary; the patent was immediately drawn up, and addressed, according to custom, to the king, that it might receive his signature and seal; the king signed this patent on December 23; such is the exact truth. How could it be stated in the sentence that the king had no cognizance on December 21 of a minute the patent of which he ratified on the 23rd by his signature? How could he be ignorant on December 24 of an order he had signed on the 23rd?—Falckenskjold, p. 209.

[15] Struensee denied this: there were no proofs, and it is well known that this minister only gave orders in writing.

[16] It is a curious fact that Brandt's having given Prince Frederick a separate box was made a capital crime; that Baron de Bülow, the king's equerry, was exiled for giving a separate stable to the horses of Prince Frederick; and that I was cruelly prosecuted for having allowed the band to play at a place which Prince Frederick was passing.—Falckenskjold, p. 222.

[17] Reverdil, p. 422.

[18] Reverdil is the only writer who produces this curious document.

[19] Gespräch im Reiche der Todten.

[20] Gespräch im Reiche der Todten.

[21] Struensee's skull was eventually stolen by four English sailors, belonging to a Russian man-of-war commanded by Admiral Greig.

[22] It has been said that Juliana Maria expressed a regret at not seeing the decapitated corpse of Caroline Matilda by the side of that of her accomplices. But such language would be quite contrary to the reserve, prudence, and dissimulation of which she furnished so many proofs during the whole of her life.

[23] The Commission of Inquiry has received orders to consider in what manner the persons employed in convicting the prisoners of state should be rewarded; in consequence of which it was allotted that Dr. Hee and Dr. Münter should each receive 300 rix dollars; but the court was of a different opinion, and judged it most proper to make presents to these ecclesiastics. The two civil officers who drew up the protocol each received 150 Danish ducats.—Annual Register for 1772.

[24] This letter I have found in Raumer's "Beiträge zur neueren Geschichte," vol. i.

[25] "Authentische Aufklärungen," p. 246.

[26] "Mémoires de Falckenskjold," p. 252.

[27] The judges could not have brought forward a greater proof of their ill-will than this. For even the usurping faction did not dare upset this regulation, which was so useful for the cultivation of desolate districts in Norway.

[28] Reverdil, p. 437.

[29] The judges evidently acted on the principle that if they threw mud enough, some of it would be sure to stick.

[30] The royal promise to grant him a pension of 3,000 dollars when he retired from active service.

[31] Struensee's younger brother, the lieutenant in Falckenskjold's regiment, also obtained employment in Prussia.

[32] Canute the Great, A.D. 1028, founded on Munkholm a Monastery of Benedictines, the first of that order established in Norway; a low round tower is all that remains of it, and this is within the walls of the fortress. It was in a small gloomy chamber in this tower that the Staats minister of Denmark, Graf von Griffenfeldt, was immured from 1680 to 1698. He was originally, Peter Schumacker. This dungeon is no longer shown; but it is said that he had worn a deep channel in the pavement in walking up and down, and indented the stone table where he had rested his hand in passing it. This fortress has ceased to be used for state prisoners, but it is still the dark and solitary rock which Victor Hugo has described in his "Hans of Iceland," looking more like a prison-house than a fortress.—Murray's Handbook for Denmark, &c.

[33] A small fort built by King Christian IV., more than 200 years ago, as a protection for the Danish fisheries, and to guard against Russian encroachments in the Varanger Fjord.—Murray's Handbook for Denmark, &c.

[34] De Flaux: "Du Danemarc."

[35] "Memoirs of an Unfortunate Queen," p. 94.

[36] General Evening Post, May 14.

[37] "Walpole's Journal of the Reign of George III.," vol. i. pp. 89-91.

[38] Sir R. M. Keith's "Memoirs," vol. i. p. 287.

[39] Coxe's "Travels," vol. v. p. 113.

[40] "Memoirs of an Unfortunate Queen," p. 98.

[41] "Authentische Aufklärungen," p. 252.

[42] The following interesting account, which I have found in a pamphlet published under the title of "Sittliche Frage," was not sufficiently authenticated to be embodied in my text. Still I do not think it should be passed over, as it affords an idea of the sentiments of the queen's party.

Keith laid before the king the letter of separation for his signature, which the king was about to sign without reading. "No, no, your Majesty," the envoy said, "read it first. It concerns you. It is the separation between yourself and your consort, which the court of England solicits for the reasons given." The king cried in confusion, "What! I am to lose my wife? State it even in writing? No, I cannot. I love and long for her again. Where are Struensee and Brandt? I long for them too." "Your Majesty," Keith replied, "they have been quartered, your Majesty signed their sentences yourself, and as it is also wished to condemn the queen to death, my court demands her back." The king became inconsolable. He asked for the queen and his two counts, and dismissed the envoy.

That England imposed weighty points on the Danish court, and demanded all possible satisfaction for the trick played the queen regnant, is evident from the following facts:—The queen is still called Queen of Denmark, even by the Danish court; her children by the king are brought up royally, and called the crown prince of the Danish kingdom and the king's daughter. When she set out from Kronborg for Celle, all royal honours were granted (which could not have been the case had the fabulous intercourse been true), and a pension of 30,000 rix-dollars is to be paid her annually.

The king now lives very sadly, and his days pass away in melancholy. He still exclaims, "My wife, my wife! she has been torn from me. I ask for her again. My ministers, my Struensee and Brandt, where are they? They have been condemned to death. They have passed over into eternity, and I am left desolate."

[43] They write from Hanover that the Hereditary Princess of Brunswick has been at Goerde, accompanied, contrary to expectation, by her husband, which is looked upon as a convincing proof that a perfect harmony subsists between these two illustrious personages. They stayed four days with Queen Caroline Matilda of Denmark, who was overjoyed to see her sister. It is since reported that the queen may possibly soon make a tour to Brunswick.—Annual Register for 1772.

[44] I am indebted for this account to the "Memoirs of an Unfortunate Queen," and it the more confirms my opinion that the book was written by some one immediately about her Majesty's person.

[45] "Memoirs of Sir R. M. Keith," vol. i., p. 304.

[46] I have, perhaps, dwelt more fully on this subject than it deserves; but I have also suffered from this iniquitous system. My agent in Germany wrote me some months ago that he had made an invaluable trouvaille—no less than an apology for Caroline Matilda, written by herself. Of course, I at once secured it; but was rather disappointed to find that it was translated from the English. On reading, I found many discrepancies, but did not give up all hope of being able to make use of the pamphlet. I had the British Museum searched for the original, but in vain; and I began to think that the alleged translation was only intended to add value to a document which might have been drawn up by a German from expressions which had fallen from the queen. Imagine my disgust when, as the reward of all my trouble, I found in the list of pamphlets in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1772, the following:—

"The Queen of Denmark's own Account of the late Revolution in Denmark: Written while her Majesty was a Prisoner in the Castle of Cronenburgh, and now first published from the Original Manuscript sent to a noble Earl." 8vo., 1s. 6d. Wheble.

The publisher and the title were quite sufficient to convince me that the pamphlet issued from the great officina of Grub Street.

[47] Eldest sister of H.R.H. Caroline, Princess of Wales.

[48] I found this anecdote carefully preserved among my grandfather's papers. The person who wrote it down for him, added, "Tout cœur capable de sentiment, pourra imaginer combien dans la situation de la jeune Reine, si digne d'un meilleur sort, des scènes pareilles devoient être attendrissantes, et à quel point on devoit être touché et pénétré d'admiration, en voyant que ce n'étoit pas le Faste, les grandeurs, ce trône, l'objet de l'ambition, même des plus grands heros: mais l'éloignement de sa famille royale, et ses retours sur la situation de celle ci, qui étoient la source de cette douleur et de ces larmes d'autant plus amères qu'elle les cachait avec le plus grand soin." This opinion my readers will assuredly endorse.

[49] My narrative is made up from the "Private Journal" already mentioned, and a MS. entitled an "Historical Narrative of the Attempt to Restore the Queen." In the former, my grandfather gives the following account of the proposition:—"A momentary astonishment covered me, but it neither altered my cheek nor faltered on my tongue. I felt in the most unbounded degree where it might lead. I was conscious where it must lead. I felt myself born for the achievement, and I ardently embraced it. 'Yes,' I said in reply, 'I am the man you seek; give me the commission; I am ready in a day, an hour, a minute. My life, my labour,—dispose of them as your own. Enthusiasm I shall not want in such a cause so noble, so honourable to me.' 'It is well,' he said. 'I am satisfied; wait till this evening, or, at latest, to-morrow. You shall see and talk with this person. At the Comédie Française we meet this night. Adieu.'"

[50] In the "Private Journal" I find: "We conversed most closely, most familiarly, most unreservedly, more than an hour. Her graciousness and goodness knew no bounds. She described (as to an equal) the king, and her sister, the Princess of Brunswick, especially the last. Her dress was very simple and plain. It could scarce be more so." From the minutes of this conversation, I also find that the queen told my grandfather that three emissaries had reached her from Copenhagen. The first was a Dane of the name of Guldenstern, about a year and a half previously; the second mentioned the name of Count Holstein; he was a musician, and named some of the bourgeoisie, whom she had never heard of. The third came about a year before, but his communication was nothing.

[51] The "Private Journal" adds:—"Toward eleven at night, as we had finished business, our discourse took another turn, and fell on the Danish affairs. The baron gave me a most interesting and masterly account of Struensee's administration, his character, and his history. He explained the manner in which he acquired his Majesty's graces, and how he kept possession of them. He gave me the relation of the plot for massacring them all at the "Bœuf roti," and how they escaped it. He passed to the fatal night when the two counts were arrested, and the wonderful incident of the tea-party, which Madame de Schimmelmann broke off by her refusal. He ended with his own arrest and honorary exile. 'Twas a relation to listen to; and I devoured his words. They are inerasable from my memory."

[52] George III., it must be borne in mind, considered his public duties as superior to private feelings. In 1775, he, though overwhelmed with grief at his sister's death, obtained from Christian VII. a decree that the Danes were to give no sort of assistance to the American rebels.

[53] The admirers of cryptography will find a specimen of the baron's letters in the Appendix. To the same dreary limbo I have also consigned my grandfather's letters to his father relating to this affair, solely through a fear that I might be charged with giving him undue prominence in a work purporting to be the life of Caroline Matilda.

[54] Seckendorf.

[55] Baron von Bülow and his friends nobly kept their word, and constantly urged George III., through Lichtenstein, to reward my grandfather for his great exertions on behalf of Caroline Matilda. It was not, however, till 1781, or when Mr. Wraxall had a seat in the House of Commons, and a useful vote, that Lord North brought up the subject. My grandfather then received 1,000 guineas for his services, and the promise of a seat at the Board of Green Cloth. The promise was not kept; for what reason he shall tell us himself:—

"In November, 1783, on the meeting of Parliament, the memorable East India Bill was introduced by Mr. Fox. Upon the first division that took place on the bill, I quitted Lord North, notwithstanding the motives I had to adhere to him; rather choosing to abandon my expectations, however near their accomplishment, than give my support to a measure which I considered to be pregnant with mischief to the country and constitution. I joined Mr. Pitt in opposition, and was one of the one hundred and twenty members who formed the minority on that evening against a majority of two hundred and twenty-nine in favour of the bill."

[56] Mantel's own words to Mr. Wraxall in 1777. He added, however, "I neither believe the body could communicate any infection, nor that she stayed long enough, had there been any, to receive it. Whether it might have made any deep or injurious impression on her mind, I cannot say; but I cannot in any degree attribute her consequent illness and death to this accident."

[57] Lehzen's "Die Letzten Stunden der Königinn von Danemark."

[58] It is a strange coincidence that the body of Caroline Matilda should be deposited close to that of her unhappy ancestress, Sophia Dorothea, whose fate was in so many respects like her own. Both have been bespattered for many years by calumny, but Dr. Doran took up the cause of Sophia Dorothea, and amply proved her innocence. My only hope is that I may have been equally successful in the cause of Caroline Matilda.

[59] The authenticity of this letter is incontestable. It has reached me through the Duchess of Augustenburg, who was allowed to take a copy by the late King of Hanover.

[60] "Mémoires de mon Temps."

[61] "Mémoires de mon Temps."

[62] "Frederick II. of Prussia had, by means of his cousin the queen dowager, gradually acquired an almost absolute sway in the cabinet of Denmark, and directed the foreign affairs in subserviency to the views of the French court, and in opposition to the interests of England. Count Bernstorff being the only person in the Danish ministry who ventured in any degree to oppose the French and Prussian policy, his dismissal was resolved on in the cabinets of Versailles and Berlin; and his conduct with regard to the armed neutrality offered an opportunity to effect their purpose."—Coxe's Travels, vol. v.

[63] "The examination continued above an hour, and the prince replied in a very sensible manner, sufficiently proving, from the readiness and perspicuity of his answers, that the reports of his incapacity were unfounded. He spoke in a loud, clear, manly voice, with a dignity and propriety which astonished the assembly; and when he repeated the oath, by which he swore to continue true to the Established Church, he did it in so feeling a manner as absolutely to draw tears from the eyes of many who were present."—Coxe's Travels, vol. v.

[64] During the early part of Juliana's regency—a French tourist tells us—the king, in one of his lucid intervals, signed a state paper in the following terms:—"Christian VII., by the grace of God, King of Denmark, &c., in company with Juliana Maria and others, by grace of the devil."

[65] The only foreigner who is supposed to have had any knowledge of the transaction, was Mr. Elliot, who had left Berlin to come to Copenhagen, in the capacity of British envoy: and the king of Great Britain was the first sovereign to whom the prince-royal communicated his success.—Coxe's Travels, vol. v.

The K. of England	Mr. Garrick.
The Queen C. Matilda	Mrs. Yates.
Lichtenstein
Mr. Lug—n—st—n	Mr. Woodward.
Seckendorf
Mr. S—k—d—rf	Mr. Beard.
Dieden
Bn. D—d—n	Mr. Powel.
Bülow
Bn. B—l—w	Mr. Holland.
Schimmelmann
Bn. S—m—l—n	Mr. Foote.
Ld. North	Mr. Mattocks.
Mr. Delaval	Mr. Shutter.
Ahlefeldt
Ct. A—f—t	Mr. Reddish.
Ld. Simpelton	Mr. Clarck.
Texier	Mdle. Louise Bonneval.
Bulow	Anne Moulin.

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Life and Times of Her Majesty Caroline Matilda, Vol. 3 (of 3)

LIFE AND TIMES
OF
HER MAJESTY
CAROLINE MATILDA.

CONTENTS OF VOL. III.

CHAPTER I.
THE TRIAL OF COUNT BRANDT.

CHAPTER II.
THE TWO COUNTS.

CHAPTER III.
THE EXECUTION.

CHAPTER IV.
THE HIGH COMMISSION.

CHAPTER V.
DEPARTURE OF THE QUEEN.

CHAPTER VI.
THE SECRET AGENT.

CHAPTER VII.
'TWIXT THE CUP AND THE LIP.

CHAPTER VIII.
DEATH OF CAROLINE MATILDA.

CHAPTER IX.
WHEN ROGUES FALL OUT——.

APPENDIX A.

APPENDIX B.

APPENDIX C.
(Correspondence of M. le Texier).

INDEX TO VOL. III.
HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL.

FOOTNOTES:

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Life and Times of Her Majesty Caroline Matilda, Vol. 3 (of 3)

LIFE AND TIMES OF HER MAJESTY CAROLINE MATILDA.

CONTENTS OF VOL. III.

CHAPTER I. THE TRIAL OF COUNT BRANDT.

CHAPTER II. THE TWO COUNTS.

CHAPTER III. THE EXECUTION.

CHAPTER IV. THE HIGH COMMISSION.

CHAPTER V. DEPARTURE OF THE QUEEN.

CHAPTER VI. THE SECRET AGENT.

CHAPTER VII. 'TWIXT THE CUP AND THE LIP.

CHAPTER VIII. DEATH OF CAROLINE MATILDA.

CHAPTER IX. WHEN ROGUES FALL OUT——.

APPENDIX A.

APPENDIX B.

APPENDIX C. (Correspondence of M. le Texier).

INDEX TO VOL. III. HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL.

FOOTNOTES:

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

LIFE AND TIMES
OF
HER MAJESTY
CAROLINE MATILDA.

CHAPTER I.
THE TRIAL OF COUNT BRANDT.

CHAPTER II.
THE TWO COUNTS.

CHAPTER III.
THE EXECUTION.

CHAPTER IV.
THE HIGH COMMISSION.

CHAPTER V.
DEPARTURE OF THE QUEEN.

CHAPTER VI.
THE SECRET AGENT.

CHAPTER VII.
'TWIXT THE CUP AND THE LIP.

CHAPTER VIII.
DEATH OF CAROLINE MATILDA.

CHAPTER IX.
WHEN ROGUES FALL OUT——.

APPENDIX C.
(Correspondence of M. le Texier).

INDEX TO VOL. III.
HISTORICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL.