STRUENSEE IN PRISON.
STRUENSEE'S CONFESSION--A HOPELESS DEFENCE--BRANDT'S FIRMNESS--DR.
MUNTER--MATERIALISM--DEATH OF BERNSTORFF--A PIOUS LETTER--A ROMAN
MOTHER--THE CONVERT--D'ALEMBERT--STRUENSEE'S APOLOGY--THE OTHER
PRISONERS.
So soon as the privy council of state had been established and
commenced its governmental functions, the examination of the state
prisoners was proceeded with at the quarters of the commandant of the
citadel, Lieutenant-General von Hobe. The two gates of the fortress
were closed during the whole day against every one who did not reside
in it; and, in the city, the garrison and bürger guard were held
in readiness for any eventuality. At ten o'clock A.M. on February
20, Count Struensee was taken in the commandant's coach, and under
the guard of the officer of the watch and six men, to the place of
examination. He was dressed in a fur coat, which had been granted him
on account of the cold; and before he was introduced to the commission,
his chains were removed, and an armchair placed for him. Although very
firm, generally, he was seized with a tremor when his fetters were
removed, and afterwards when they were put on again at the end of each
sitting.
The first examination lasted till two o'clock; it was resumed at
half-past four, and continued till seven o'clock. Neither on this day
nor on the next morning did Struensee make the slightest confession. He
explained all the orders he had given during the last portion of his
government as precautions against a popular _émeute_. He even denied
having given any special order; he had merely recommended General Gude
to provide effectually for the public safety. On this head, his judges
had the strongest proof of his innocence in the fact that all the other
prisoners, when they were arrested, believed that it was done by his
orders.
As regarded the accusation of gallantry, the prisoner constantly denied
it during these first three sittings, with a calmness that astonished
his judges. One of them, Councillor Braëm, having used abusive language
to him, Struensee exhorted him to imitate his tranquillity, adding,
that the affair concerned himself more than anybody. It is stated
that this same Braëm menaced him with a certain apparatus, which was
ready in another room, and by means of which the truth was torn from
obstinate criminals. Struensee replied, that nothing could be drawn
from him by torture, seeing that he had nothing to confess or reproach
himself with. If he were threatened with torture, which appears very
doubtful, it was only on one occasion, for Braëm was not authorised to
do so; and it is not true that the instruments were prepared.[61]
Struensee's firmness, there is little doubt, was based on an opinion
which for some time past had formed his sole security; he had persuaded
himself that no one would dare to attack the person of the queen, and
that the closer he connected his fate with that of Caroline Matilda,
the less risk he would himself run. When he learnt that his protectress
was herself arrested, his firmness abandoned him: he was troubled, and
burst into tears: he deplored his misfortune in attracting insults and
disgrace on the persons to whom he was most attached, and, conscious
of his weakness, he implored his judges to allow him to return to
his prison, that he might regain his calmness, and stanch his tears.
The judges were careful not to let this moment of victory slip: they
pressed him more than ever; and what neither their questions nor
threats could draw from the prisoner, they obtained from his weakness
and emotion. He confessed that his familiarity with the queen had been
carried to the fullest extent.[62]
It is more than possible that Struensee, in his terror and confusion,
hoped to save his life by dragging the queen into the matter, falsely
expecting thus to prevent an examination that must lead to scandal, and
to escape with banishment. It is also probable that his crafty judges
led him into this belief, and by insinuations induced him to betray the
honour of a woman. But what man to whom honour was dear would have made
such shameful confessions about a woman, which must not only dishonour
her in the sight of all Europe, but infallibly cost her the throne?
Whether, therefore, we should consider Struensee guilty or innocent
of the crimes he confessed, his head from this moment belonged to the
executioner, and by his own act he destroyed public sympathy with his
fate.[63]
But Struensee degraded himself even more, if possible, by his ensuing
confessions. When he had taken the first step, further avowals cost him
nothing, and the whole story poured from his lips without restriction
or reservation. His interrogatory affords details too precise and
circumstantial to be reproduced here.[64] It results from it that the
criminal relations between the queen and Struensee began in the spring
of 1770, shortly before the Holstein tour.
It was important to know whether the king had kept entirely aloof from
the queen, and what opinion should be formed about the legitimacy of
the little princess, whom it was at first proposed to disinherit,
and whom the courtiers called familiarly in January and February the
"Mamselle." But the king had acknowledged her, and openly announced
her birth to all the foreign courts. For this reason it was considered
advisable not to stir the matter up.
When Struensee was asked who had helped the queen and him in carrying
on their illicit connexion, and what confidants they had had, he
replied that no one had served them in this matter, and that neither
the queen nor he had confided it to any one: it was probable that he
had spoken about it to Count Brandt; but he did not remember having
confessed to him the exact state of affairs, as he was very cautious
on this point.[65] The truth was, that the queen had first given him
marks of her tenderness at a masked ball, but that their intimacy
commenced at the Christiansborg Palace. To these confessions, which he
attested by his signature, Struensee added:--
"He was forced to confess that through his conduct he had compromised
the queen's reputation: that he was maintained in the same habits
by circumstances, although he had often desired and sought means to
prevent this inconvenience: that the conduct of the king and queen
frequently had the effect of renewing appearances, from the fact of the
queen ordering him to take steps which looked suspicious: that the king
sent him to the queen at all hours, and with all sorts of messages:
that the queen frequently asked for him and seized upon him, as he had
already stated, proposing to him to go out with her, _tête-à-tête_,
on foot, on horseback, or in a carriage: that he frequently proposed
to her to take some one with them, especially females, and that for
this object he encouraged several of the latter to mount their horses:
that the queen had the custom of refusing everything: that he had been
obliged to yield, lest he should lose her confidence: that he was thus
placed in the alternative of ruining his fortunes, or succumbing to the
will of the queen. In other respects he referred to the confession of
the queen, as facts spoke so loudly against him, that even if he had
not had culpable relations with her, appearances would condemn him."
Count Brandt was examined for the first time on February 22. He was
perfectly calm, and answered the questions asked with a coolness which
evidently showed that he considered himself entirely innocent. The
chief charge against him naturally consisted of his assault on the
sacred person of his Majesty, about which he spoke quite unreservedly,
and penitently begged pardon for the insulting expressions with which
he had challenged the king to wrestle.
As a reward for the explanations they had given, the two counts were
allowed, on February 26, to have their six-weeks-old beards removed,
which Brandt had previously attempted to do with a pair of snuffers.
During this operation, the following precautions were used: the
prisoner sat as far away from the wall as his chain admitted, so that
he could not move one hand, while a turnkey held the other.
Struensee seems either to have made up his mind to the inevitable, or
else to have accommodated himself to circumstances with remarkable
easiness. He began to take his meals with something of an appetite.
He breakfasted about nine, on coffee, rolls, and biscuits; at one he
dined, took a glass of light wine, and a cup of coffee; drank tea about
five or six, and perhaps ate a biscuit or two; he took no supper, but
drank a glass of port wine and water. He was always very abstemious
as to wines and spirits, at least after he was placed about the king.
Everything furnished by the restaurateur for his use was carefully
examined; even the bread was cut open, and the napkins shaken and held
up to the light; and his meat was cut for him, as he was not allowed a
knife, lest he might commit suicide.
It seems as if some remarks that were dropped during the examination
soon reduced Brandt's hopes, for almost immediately after, he, by the
advice of the commandant, requested the aid of a clergyman. On February
24, Hee, provost of the Navy church, was selected by the commission,
and he paid the unhappy prisoner frequent visits. His exertions to
convert the free-thinking count proved successful. Still the conversion
did not seem to extend beyond Deism, for he would not listen to
anything about the fall of man, original sin, and some other matters
concerning religion.
Brandt had received an excellent education. He saw none but good
examples in the house of his parents, who had chosen the best tutors to
form his young heart for the fear of God. He himself was sensible of
this in his prison, and assured Dean Hee that he very often had felt
the power of the converting grace of God in his soul. He recollected
more particularly the time when he was first admitted to the sacrament
of the Lord's Supper, and added, that he could never forget the words
of the clergyman, which made a great impression on his mind: "Hold that
fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown." That he possessed
an easily moved mind is proved by the fact that, in his conversations
with the clergyman, he frequently burst into tears when the latter
reproved him for his "former life and the depravity of his heart,"
and expounded to him the greatness of God's mercy. Hee was greatly
troubled on hearing that so soon as his back was turned, Brandt used
to relapse into his old levity. On upbraiding the prisoner with this,
the latter said, humbly enough, that "it was possible such words might
have escaped him, on account of the levity of his heart, but he hinted
that some person or other, who wanted to bring such reports among the
people, had given occasion for it, of which he made use while his heart
was not upon its guard." Dr. Hee thought the best way of preventing
this was by giving his penitent religious books to read, but the choice
does not appear to have been very wise, for among them was "Hervey's
Meditations." The tendency of this work was to render Brandt quite
quiet, and the commandant spoke in the highest terms of his behaviour,
which was most edifying. Still, I cannot help thinking that there was
a certain amount of hypocrisy in the affair; at any rate, so long as
Brandt thought there was a chance of saving his life. For instance,
it seems rather _outré_ to find the prisoner frequently taking up his
chains and kissing them, to which he would say, "When I believed myself
to be free, I was a miserable slave to my passions; and now that I
am a prisoner, truth and grace have set me at liberty." Nor should
much faith be placed in his denunciations of Voltaire, with which old
advocate of Shaitan he had spent four days on his travels, and had
heard nothing from him (as he said) save what could corrupt the heart
and sound morals. Another curious bit Dr. Hee shall tell us in his own
quaint language:--
"He spoke of Struensee, and said he was a man without any religion,
who, from his infancy, according to his own confession, never had
any impression or feelings of it. As to himself, he assured me that,
though he had been far from being virtuous, yet he always entertained a
secret reverence for religion, and had spoken several times about it to
Struensee, in hopes of leading him to better sentiments, but he never
would hear him. It appeared to me a little odd that the blind should
thus have led the blind; I therefore made no answer, thinking it might,
perhaps, be his self-conceit that made him speak so, or that he wanted
me to entertain a better opinion of his errors than I had reason for:
hence I would not tempt him to support an untruth by defending what he
had told me."
Attention was also paid to the state of Struensee's soul. At first he
declined to see any clergyman, but when the confession that decided
his fate had been drawn from him, his persecutors resolved to send
him ghostly counsel even against his will. The choice fell, as has
been stated, on Dr. Münter, at that time provost of the German Peter's
church in Copenhagen.
This worthy divine has left us an account of Struensee's conversion,
which everybody used to read in the last century, but is utterly
forgotten now. It is invaluable, however, for a proper comprehension
of Struensee's character. In every page we seem to have before us a
weak, sensual man, incapable of resisting any persevering pressure;
incredulous through levity, purified by misfortune, sincerely
converted, feeling the same contempt for the judgment of posterity
as for that of his contemporaries; badly guided at the outset by
too strict a father, but possessing excellent qualities, full of
forgiveness for his pitiless enemies, and perfectly resigned. Over
such a character a man like Münter soon gained the upper hand: he was
a theologian, but would have made a first-rate lawyer, and at the
same time a passionate Christian, who, while he believed that he was
only labouring to save a wretch's soul, aided his implacable foes to
consummate his ruin.
On March 1, Dr. Münter paid his first visit to Struensee's prison. When
the count was informed of the clergyman's arrival, he inquired whether
it was ordered, and on being answered in the affirmative, he endured
the presence of the doctor. He welcomed him with a sour and gloomy
countenance, in the attitude of a man who was prepared to receive
many severe reproaches, and with a silence that showed contempt. But
so soon as the clever Münter had told him that he was well aware of
his obligations toward an unhappy man, and sincerely wished to make
the visits he was ordered to pay him agreeable and useful, Struensee
quitted his constrained attitude, and his countenance grew more
serene. He offered the doctor his hand, and thanked him for the
sympathy he took in his fate. The latter, in return, gave Struensee the
assurance that he would say nothing that could offend him, and begged
that if accidentally in the course of conversation a word might slip
from him that appeared offensive, Struensee would overlook it.
"Oh, you may say what you please," the prisoner answered.
Münter repeated his assurance that he had no other design but that
of being useful to his hearer, and for that reason requested his
confidence, which he (Münter) would return with the most thankful
friendship, even though Struensee in the beginning might take him for a
weak and prejudiced man.
Struensee was moved by this assurance, and Münter continued:--
"If you desire to receive comfort from me, who am your only friend
on earth, do not cherish that unhappy thought of dying like a
philosophical hero."
To which the count replied:--
"In all my adversities, I have shown firmness of mind, and, agreeably
to this character I hope I shall not die like a hypocrite."
"Hypocrisy," Münter said, "in such moments would be even worse than
an affected firmness, though even this would be a kind of hypocrisy.
In case of death, do not trust to your old resolution and compare
your former adversities, which were, perhaps, nothing but sickness
and distress, with that fate which is now ready to fall on you. But,
perhaps, you entertain some hopes of saving your life?"
"No," Struensee said, "I flatter myself with no hopes at all."
"But you do not see death near you," the doctor urged; "you do not know
the time when you shall leave this world. Suppose I were to tell you
that you were to die to-day or to-morrow, would not your courage fail
you?"
Struensee was silent, and Münter implored him to turn his entire
attention to the important intent of their conversation, which was to
prepare him for eternity. Then he added--
"But I must expect that we are not both of the same opinion in regard
to the state of man after death; yet, though you might have persuaded
yourself that there is no life to come, and, consequently, neither
rewards nor punishments, I cannot help thinking that there was a
time when you were fully convinced of it. Your inward feelings have
frequently contradicted you. The thought of eternity frightened you,
though, unfortunately, you had art enough to stifle it in the birth.
However, it will always be out of your power to prove that there is no
eternity."
Struensee listened attentively, but would not own that he ever had any
inward impressions of immortality, or had been afraid of it. Perhaps he
might have been, but he did not recollect. He owned that the thought
that he should soon entirely cease to be, was disagreeable to him:
it frightened him: he wished to live, even though it were with less
happiness than he now enjoyed in his prison. But he did not find the
thought of total annihilation so terrible, as he had noticed it was to
many who entertained the same principles as himself. In conclusion, he
remarked:--
"My opinion, which is opposed to yours, is so strongly woven into my
sentiments: I have so many arguments in favour of it: I have made so
many observations from anatomy and physic which confirm it: that I
think it will be impossible for me to renounce my principles. This,
however, I promise: that I will not wilfully oppose your efforts to
enlighten me, but rather wish, as far as it lies in my power, to concur
with you. I will not dissemble, but honestly tell you of what I am
convinced, and of what I am not. I will deal with you openly: for such
is my character, and my friends can bear witness to it."
At Münter's request Struensee then explained to him his religious
principles, of which an account has already been given.
On this first visit, Münter did not press his penitent home, but as he
observed that he was really very uneasy about some of his actions, he
thought it proper to increase this uneasiness. With this view, he told
the prisoner, as he took leave of him, that Count Bernstorff had died
at Hamburg on February 18. Struensee exclaimed, with great emotion,
"What! is he dead?" and seemed to shudder.
"Yes," Münter answered, "he is. His wisdom, religion, and piety have
preserved to him the character of a great man to the last; and it is
generally believed that the grief of his latter years has hastened his
death."
As Münter said this, he looked at the prisoner with an air which the
latter seemed to understand, for he blushed.
On his second visit, Dr. Münter strove to convince the count of the
falsity of his system, that man was a mere machine. Struensee answered,
that in his present situation his mind was neither composed nor serene
enough to examine into the nature of his principles. Münter, however,
would not allow himself to be foiled in this manner, but earnestly
warned the prisoner that it was his ambition alone which prevented him
from doing justice to truth.
"Oh!" said Struensee, "this inclination is gone, and I am now very
little in my own eyes and how could I be ambitious in this place?"
Münter speedily discovered the tender side in his opponent. The thought
of having dragged his friends and adherents into ruin with him grieved
him most, and hence he found his only comfort in repentance. The
doctor, consequently, had hardly touched on this topic, ere Struensee
confessed to him with tears in his eyes, that he felt guilty in this
respect. Münter confirmed him in his sorrow, hoping thus to induce
him to speak about his other actions. He told him that, in order to
qualify himself for God's mercy, it was necessary to search his former
life, and to acknowledge his errors and crimes. Then, in order to hold
up to him the necessity of repentance, Münter delineated to him the
outlines of his character, as he had reason for thinking it to be.
"God," the doctor said, "has given you an uncommon understanding,
and, as I believe, a good natural disposition of heart; but, through
voluptuousness, ambition, and levity, you have corrupted yourself."
Struensee confirmed Münter's conjectures, and admitted that
voluptuousness had been his chief passion, and had contributed most to
his moral depravity.
At the seventh conference Dr. Münter thought it advisable to hand
Struensee a letter from his parents, which he had kept in his pocket
for several days. This letter is curious, as showing how far the
idolatry of royalty was carried at that time. Struensee's crime was
considered so horrible, that no one imagined that it could be pardoned.
Even his parents, the letter shows, writing to him in his wretched
dungeon, do not once testify a desire that his sufferings should be
alleviated, or that he should be spared the death which he so justly
merited. The body was surrendered to man, who must be inexorable; the
only thing to be effected was the salvation of the soul. The letter was
to the following effect:--
MY SECOND SON!
I could wish that these lines, if possible, may reach you, that you
may read and consider. The melancholy, grief, and anxiety of your
parents on account of their sons, I am not able to express. Our eyes
swim in tears day and night. Our souls cry for mercy to God without
ceasing. But I will speak no more of this. There is but one thing
that lies heavy on my mind, and that of your much afflicted mother.
You know our sentiments. You know our intentions when we educated
you. You remember how often and how seriously we inculcated this
great truth, that godliness is profitable unto all things.
As often as I had occasion to speak to you, even then when you were
in a public character, I reminded you of the omnipresent God, and
exhorted you to be careful in preserving a good conscience. Your own
heart will tell you how far you have lived up to the exhortations of
your father.
Your parents have been in great anxiety about you for a long while.
As we lead a retired life, and have very few acquaintances, and as
you yourself have written nothing about your circumstances, the
prayers and sighs of our straitened hearts have ascended to God in
secret, and in our anxiety we cried that your soul might not be lost.
Three different times, at Halle, Gedern, Altona, you were looked upon
as a dead man by those who stood about your sick bed. God saved
you, and preserved your life; certainly with the sole intention of
preparing you, in this time of grace, for a happy eternity. The same
is now the chief intention of your gracious Redeemer in your prison.
You are His creature. He loves you. You are redeemed by the blood
of Jesus. God is a reconciled Father. You are baptized in the name
of the Trinity. He will make an everlasting covenant with you, and
will not desist from doing good to you. Return to your God, my son.
He will not hide His face of grace from you. Mind the voice of your
conscience, and the conviction which the spirit of God produces in
your soul. Pray to God that He may disclose to you the true inward
state of your soul, that you, enlightened by God, may see how much
you are corrupted. Employ the solitude you are now in to search your
whole life in the sight of the omniscient God, that you may see how
great and detestable your sins are. Do not flatter yourself. Be
rigorous with yourself. Accuse yourself, and judge yourself before
the tribunal of God, whilst you are still enjoying this time of grace.
When you shall feel your sins to be a heavy burden, your heart then
will humiliate itself before God, you will pray for mercy, and you
will seriously detest and abhor your transgressions. You will then
see the just importance and necessity of the redemption of Christ.
You then will take refuge in Him who receives sinners, who was made
to be sin for us, who has paid the debts of our sins, and suffered
their punishment, that we might be made the righteousness of God in
Him, and might have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of
sins, according to the riches of His grace. Still the blood of Christ
speaks for you. He that is merciful still stretches forth His hands.
Without Jesus there is no salvation. He is the cause of it. Even for
your sake He has received gifts. You may have in Him righteousness
for your peace of mind, and for your sanctification. Oh that Jesus
might be glorified in your heart! In Him we have happiness while we
live, while we suffer, while we die, and after death.
Your mother sends her love to you. She weeps, she prays with me for
our unfortunate sons. My son, my son, how deeply do you afflict us!
Oh! could we but have this only comfort, that our sons turned with
all their heart unto the Lord, and that we might with joy find them
again in eternity before the throne of the Lamb!
Your crimes which brought you into prison are not properly and
sufficiently known to us. What is talked of and read in public about
you is of such a nature that your parents condemn and detest it.
Oh! would to God that you had remained a physician! Of your rise to
honours we were informed by the newspapers; but it was no matter
of joy to us; we read it with grief. Oh! that you had kept, in all
your transactions, a clear conscience, with much wisdom, piety, and
humility, for the good of Denmark, and that you might have submitted
with due subjection to all the commands of your sovereign. We cannot
altogether judge of this matter for want of information. But know
that, though we love our children, we nevertheless do not approve of
their crimes, nor will we excuse or palliate them, or call them good;
we rather hate all sins; detest, condemn, and abhor them; and praise
God when He manifests His just wrath over the wicked, and shows His
mercy to the penitent and the faithful. The Lord our God be your
physician in your imprisonment, and cure thoroughly the wounds of
your soul!
We, your parents, recommend you to the love of the Lord, who has
mercy on you. May Jesus, who is a compassionate High Priest,
remember you for good at the right hand of God, that you may receive
mercy before the throne of grace, and be pardoned unto everlasting
salvation. Yea, Jesus! Thou great friend of mankind, who wilt in
nowise cast out him that comes to Thee, help parents and children to
life everlasting.
I am, your heartily afflicted father,
ADAM STRUENSEE.
_Rendsburg_, March 4, 1772.
Struensee took this letter with eagerness, and began reading it; but it
is not surprising to find that he had not half finished it when he laid
it down, weeping bitterly. Shortly after, he received a letter from
his mother, written precisely in the same Calvinistic strain as that
from his father, and not containing one single trait of that maternal
affection so necessary under such trying circumstances.
At length, after twenty-one days' exertions, Struensee was so far
converted, partly by reading the New Testament, Jerusalem and Gellert's
works, and partly, also, by Münter's earnest exhortations, that he
burst into the following penitent words:--
"I should be guilty of the greatest folly if I would not embrace
Christianity with joy, when its arguments are so overbalancing, and
when it breathes such general benevolence. Its effects upon my heart
are too strong. Oftentimes I cannot help crying when I read the history
of Christ. Even now I think with hope on my death. I have acquainted
myself with its most terrifying circumstances. I do not know how I
shall be when the awful hour arrives. At present, I am not uneasy
about it; I find nothing that makes me anxiously wish for life. I will
confidently expect forgiveness of my sins through Christ. And to you,
my dear friend, I am infinitely obliged that you have brought me so
far."
Struensee then expressed a wish that those friends of his who
entertained the same sentiments as he had done on religious matters
might also be brought to a sense of their errors; and he felt an
especial interest in Brandt's fate. It was consequently arranged
that Münter should bring Dean Hee to Struensee; and, when this took
place a few days afterwards, the prisoner begged the latter to inform
Brandt of his conversion. Shortly after, the dean delivered Brandt's
answer, to the effect, "that he greatly rejoiced to hear of Struensee's
conversion. For his own part, he found his only comfort in religion,
and from his heart forgave Struensee for all that he had done to draw
him into his misfortunes." Struensee was pleased to hear this, and from
this period seemed to have his mind relieved of a great burden. Of the
sincerity of his conversion the following passage seems to offer a
convincing proof:--
"The Christian religion," Struensee said on one occasion, "is so
engaging, that it must certainly please every one who is properly
acquainted with it. We should see the best effects of it among the
common people in reforming the world, if it were properly represented
and rendered intelligible to the capacity of different sorts of people.
They should be made sensible that in this life they could never be
happier than by following the precepts of Christianity. Every one then
would be convinced that, supposing even this religion to be a mistake,
it must be such a one as contradicts entirely the nature of error and
delusion, because it is the best and truest way of happiness. Every
one would think it worth his while to maintain this opinion, and to
propagate it.
"I wish you and other divines," he continued to Münter, "would
write small pamphlets, to acquaint the people with the advantages of
Christianity, which might be of greater service than preaching. In
this manner Voltaire has written, as you are aware, innumerable little
pieces against religion, which contain the same ideas over again
under different titles, and in a different dress. Rational friends of
Christianity should learn of him this method, by which he does much
mischief, and apply it to better purposes. Voltaire boasts of having
found out this method, as he says, to enlighten the world. I remember,
that when I conversed with d'Alembert in Paris, he spoke in high terms
of praise of this method, and admired Voltaire's wisdom on this point.
However, I do not believe him to be the inventor of it. Perhaps he
borrowed this way of spreading his principles from Christ himself,
who taught truth, sometimes in parables, sometimes in questions and
answers, sometimes in sermons."
When Struensee at length received permission to write, he drew up,
after consulting with Münter, a description of his conversion, which,
however, was in some passages quite confused, and far from clear. It is
a further proof how greatly the mind of this naturally talented man was
thrown off the balance by the awful position in which he found himself.
The examination of the other prisoners, and the hearing of the
witnesses, took place alternately in the citadel and in the
Christiansborg Palace. Professor Berger appeared at the bar on February
22, and so soon as he returned to prison he was allowed to be shaved
and to eat with a knife and a fork. He was also granted a better room,
was permitted to sleep in his own bed, was allowed tobacco, and to read
books from his own library.
Justiz-rath Struensee passed his time in prison in playing at chess
with the officers of the watch. After he had undergone an examination
on March 7, the favour was also granted him of smoking a pipe, and
drinking wine from his own cellar.
At last, on March 18, or two months after their arrest, came the turn
of Colonel von Falckenskjold and Lieutenant-Colonel von Hesselberg to
be examined. It has already been stated how scandalously these two
gentlemen had been treated during their imprisonment at the main guard
of the royal docks. Permission had been asked of Prince Frederick to
have Falckenskjold removed to a more wholesome cell, but he refused
it, and answered, with a jeering laugh, "A man who has fought with
the Turks must be able to endure such a punishment." On the day of
examination, the two prisoners were conveyed in litters to the citadel,
but when they returned to prison they were allowed knives and forks,
and freed from the constant presence of the officers of the guard in
their room.
On March 25, Major-General Gude and Count Struensee were confronted.
On the following day, Admiral Hansen and Lieutenant Aboe made their
statements, and as Etats-rath Willebrandt had been taken ill, he was
examined in his house by a special commission.
The investigation gradually assumed such immense proportions, that the
sittings to examine the prisoners and witnesses could not be closed
till the end of March, or for nearly two months and a half.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 61: Reverdil, p. 396.]
[Footnote 62: A French petit maître, who protested against this
weakness of Struensee, and in whose presence the discretion of his
own countrymen in such matters was called in question, retorted:
"Un Français l'aurait dit à tout le monde, et ne l'aurait avoué à
personne."]
[Footnote 63: That Struensee's contemporaries were of the same opinion,
will be seen from what Baron von Bülow said to Mr. Wraxall on the
subject:--"Had Struensee persisted pertinaciously in disclaiming
any sort of criminal intimacy with the queen, should a contrary
declaration have afterwards been made by him under torture, all the
world would have said that such a confession was worth nothing; as
having been extorted by the rack--as being the mere effect of pain.
He would probably have then been put out of the way in prison, but to
latest ages he would have been called a great man: nor could they then
have touched Queen Matilda. She denied everything till she was shown
Struensee's confession."]
[Footnote 64: This confession still exists: indeed, I have a copy of
it. But, however anxious I may feel to arrive at the truth, it is
simply impossible to republish it. The few general hints I give in the
text, and further on in the indictment of the queen, will suffice to
indicate its disgusting character.]
[Footnote 65: Reverdil makes a remark on this, which would have weight
if we could believe a word that Brandt said. He observes:--"I learnt
from Brandt such peculiar details, which at the same time agreed with
all the rest, that I could neither doubt their truth nor their origin.
Brandt was so petulant in his curiosity about matters of gallantry,
that it was necessary either to deny as impudently as he questioned,
or to confess everything. And as he spared nobody, and took a pride in
dispensing with those reservations most commanded by decency, I do not
doubt that by showing himself thoroughly acquainted with the affair, he
forced the queen to speak to him as clearly as his friend did. In his
examination he confessed to having been a confidant."]