THE RELEASE OF THE QUEEN.
1772.
During the weeks occupied by the trials of Struensee and Brandt, Keith
had been untiring in his efforts on behalf of Queen Matilda, and wrung
from her enemies one concession after another. As the result of his
insistence, the Queen was no longer confined in one small room, but
was permitted to use the large dining-hall outside it and the other
apartments adjoining. She was also allowed to go out and take the
air on the ramparts and the leads of the castle. Her food was better
served, and she was waited on with some ceremony by her household. The
preachers in the fortress chapel were no longer instructed to hurl
insults at the Queen, and when she attended divine service there was
nothing to remind her of her misfortunes, beyond the omission of her
name from the liturgy. The little Princess was still allowed to remain
with her. This indulgence was probably due to the fact that the child
was ill of the measles, and it might have cost the infant her life to
take her away at this time from the Queen, who most devotedly nursed
her day and night, and found in the child her only consolation. Keith
wrote of this incident: "A more tender mother than this Queen never
was born in the world."
Queen Matilda had now been imprisoned at Kronborg several months, and
by the gentleness and dignity with which she bore her sorrows she
won the respect and devotion of her jailors. Her natural kindness of
heart showed itself even under these distressing circumstances; she
made inquiries concerning the other prisoners who were detained in the
fortress, and, as soon as greater freedom was allowed her, did what
she could to alleviate their lot. From the little money she possessed,
she gave sums from time to time to buy them comforts, and, when her
dinner was served to her properly, she put aside two dishes from her
table every day, with orders that they should be given to certain
prisoners whom she had singled out for compassion. One of these was
a Danish officer, who had been confined for many years in a small
cell on suspicion of having entered into a treasonable correspondence
with Sweden. The commandant of Kronborg remonstrated with the Queen,
and asked her to bestow her little bounty on some other, lest her
kindness should be construed into a condonation of the prisoner's
heinous offence. The Queen declined, and quoted the following line of
Voltaire's: "_Il suffit qu'il soit homme, et qu'il soit malheureux_."
The Queen in her prison heard of the tragic death of Struensee and
Brandt. According to one account she swooned with grief and horror,
and when she rallied spoke no word. According to another she
received the news with emotion, and exclaimed to Fräulein Mösting,
her maid-of-honour: "Unhappy men; they have paid dearly for their
devotion to the King and their zeal in my service." These words, it
must be admitted, do not show overwhelming grief for the death of the
man who but a short time before had been dearer to her than all the
world. Perhaps his shameful confession, and the way he had received
her message of forgiveness, influenced her in spite of herself. She
forgave him the wrong he had done her; she uttered no word of reproach;
she showed the deepest pity for his sufferings and horror at his fate;
but it was impossible that she could feel quite the same towards him
as she had done. Perhaps, too, long months of solitary confinement had
brought reflection, and the death of her mother, and the thought of
her children, whom she dearly loved, had aroused her to a higher sense
of her duties; and her eyes, no longer blinded by passion, saw clearly
in what she had failed. Certain it is that Matilda's character was
purified and ennobled by suffering.
After the sentence of divorce was pronounced, Keith had insisted upon
seeing the Queen. For some time this request was refused, or rather he
was always put off on one pretext or another. But Keith clamoured in
season and out of season at the doors of the Christiansborg, and became
so threatening that at last the crafty Osten and the vindictive Juliana
Maria had to give way, and most unwillingly gave leave to the English
envoy to visit his Sovereign's sister. But this permission does not
seem to have been granted until after the execution of Struensee and
Brandt.
[Illustration: SIR ROBERT MURRAY KEITH, K.C.B.]
Unfortunately, there exists no account of the first interview at
Kronborg between Queen Matilda and Keith; the despatches which the
English envoy wrote home at this time have all been destroyed. But we
can imagine what it must have been. In the days when Struensee was
in the ascendant, the young Queen was hardly permitted to see her
brother's representative--much less to have any conversation with him.
She was taught to look on him rather as an enemy than a friend, and
an enemy he undoubtedly was to Struensee and his administration. But,
freed from that baneful influence, she realised that the Englishman
was her only friend, and, if help came at all, it must come from
England, her native land, which, in the days of her brief madness,
she had forgotten. Now she clung to Keith as her friend and champion;
she placed herself unreservedly in his hands; she spoke to him quite
freely, and besought him to save her from the malice of her enemies.
But it needed neither her tears nor her prayers to urge this brave
soldier to fight for his King's sister; indeed, in her defence he was
more zealous than the King himself. He sent home a copy of the sentence
against the Queen, and a full account of her trial, pointing out its
obvious unfairness, the suborned and perjured nature of the evidence,
and the way the Queen's so-called confession had been extorted from her
under false pretences. It is said that George III. had these papers
submitted to some of the first law officers of the crown, and they
reported that the evidence was insufficient to prove the Queen guilty,
and, even where it might be believed, it was only of a presumptive
and inconclusive nature. On the strength of this report George III.
determined to give his sister the benefit of the doubt. Moved by the
despatches in which Keith eloquently portrayed the young Queen's
privations and sufferings and the danger to which she was exposed from
the fury and malice of her enemies, George III. sent instructions to
his envoy to peremptorily demand that Matilda should be set at liberty
forthwith, and handed over to his keeping.
On receipt of this despatch Keith lost no time in acquainting the
Danish Government with its contents; but the Queen-Dowager and her
adherents demurred. Every preparation had been made to remove the
unfortunate young Queen to Aalborg--a lonely fortress on the extreme
edge of Jutland, and to keep her there in perpetual imprisonment.
And to Aalborg, they informed Keith, she would shortly be conducted.
Matilda had a presentiment that if she once went to Aalborg she would
never leave it alive. The only link that bound her to Denmark was her
children; apart from them, she had nothing there, and her one wish was
to leave it for ever, and return to the country which gave her birth.
But, though Keith stormed and protested, the Danish Government showed
no signs of yielding. Perhaps they trusted to the alleged lukewarmness
of the King of England, and believed that he would not force matters
to extremities. Keith wrote home a strongly worded despatch, saying
that it was absolutely necessary for the English Government to take
prompt and vigorous measures if this daughter of England were to be set
free. He also pointed out the bad effect it would have upon British
influence in Europe if, at such a moment, England did not show herself
as good as her word. On receipt of this despatch, George III. no longer
hesitated and took the vigorous measures he ought to have taken long
before; his own honour and the honour of England alike demanded that
the Queen should not be abandoned to her fate. He commanded Keith
to inform the Danish Government that, unless they at once agreed to
deliver the Queen to his keeping, the English minister would present
his letters of recall, a state of war would be declared between England
and Denmark, and a fleet would be despatched to bombard Copenhagen.
And, in order to follow up his words with action, orders were sent to
the Admiralty for the fitting out of a strong fleet, and though no
directions were given as to where it was to sail, it was universally
thought to be destined for Denmark. The Danish envoy in London thought
so too, for he wrote to Copenhagen in great alarm. He said that
the King of England was really roused at last, he referred to his
well-known obstinacy, and urged the Danish Government to yield to his
demands.
In England the fate of the Queen of Denmark, which for so many months
had hung in the balance, was followed with close attention, and when
rumours came of the fitting out of the fleet, the public excitement
was wrought to the highest pitch. The Opposition, which had first
championed the cause of Matilda with more zeal than discretion, now
turned against her, and denounced the Government in the strongest terms
for bringing about a war between two friendly nations for a worthless
woman. The vilest pamphlets suddenly flooded the streets. To quote a
journal of the day: "Yesterday, in some parts of the city, men were
crying about printed papers, containing the most scandalous rumours,
and impudent reflections on the Queen of Denmark. The worst prostitute
that ever Covent Garden produced could not have had more gross abuse
bestowed on her."[63]
[63] _General Evening Post_, April 30, 1772.
Fortunately, for all concerned, the crisis was averted. When Keith,
on receipt of the King of England's orders, presented himself at the
Christiansborg Palace and delivered his ultimatum, panic struck the
hearts of the Queen-Dowager and her adherents, and this panic was
heightened by the news, conveyed to them by the Danish envoy in London,
that a fleet was fitted out and ready to sail. The Queen-Dowager did
not yield her victim without a struggle, she hated Matilda more than
Struensee and all his accomplices put together, but she was overborne
by the remonstrances of the rest, who knew that to precipitate a
conflict with England at this juncture would assuredly prove their
ruin. Whatever the issue of the struggle (and there was not much doubt
about that), the Danish people would never forgive the Government for
involving them in a ruinous war on such a pretext. Moreover, there was
a revulsion of feeling in favour of the young Queen, and, since the
death of Struensee, sympathy with her had been gaining ground daily.
It really would be safer, urged some, to get her out of the country
than to keep her shut up at Aalborg, for her adherents would always
be plotting to obtain her release. These considerations weighed even
with Juliana Maria, and made her see virtue in necessity. Keith, who
had noted these signs of weakness and divided counsels, pushed his
advantage, and with such success that he gained every point, and more
than every point, that George III. demanded. Not only did the Danish
Government agree to deliver Matilda to the King of England's keeping,
but they further promised that the sentence of divorce should not be
officially published, that they would do all they could to hush up the
scandal, that she should be permitted to retain her title of Queen,
and that they would pay a yearly allowance towards her maintenance in
another country. The Queen was not only to be set free, but to be set
free with honour. On only one point they would not yield: they would
not allow her to say good-bye to her son, or to take her daughter
with her. By the finding of the judges the Princess was the King of
Denmark's child, and therefore he was her proper guardian.
As Keith had no instructions on this point, he was powerless to
insist upon it; but it was with a glad heart that he sat down to
write his despatch, which informed his King that every point had been
gained--that his demands had been complied with, and war would be
averted.
The English Government received Keith's despatch with a great sense of
relief. The King, now his blood was up, would undoubtedly have insisted
upon the fleet sailing, and many complications would have ensued. The
Government were by no means sure that they would have the nation at
their back in declaring war on such a pretext. The whole story of the
Queen of Denmark's errors would have become common property; the King
of Prussia, who was in close alliance with Denmark, and whose Queen
was the sister of Juliana Maria, would probably have marched an army
into Hanover if Copenhagen had been bombarded, and a new war would
have been kindled in the north of Europe. Therefore, both the King
and the Government had every reason to congratulate themselves that
these difficulties had been avoided, and it was resolved to promote
Keith as a reward for the successful way in which he had conducted the
negotiations. Lord Suffolk wrote to Keith the following despatches:--
"ST. JAMES'S, _May 1, 1772_.
"SIR,
"Your despatches by King the messenger have already been
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, and 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 with 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 them is already in the Downs--the
others will repair thither immediately: and, as soon as wind permits,
they will proceed to their destination. I enclose to you an account
of them, which you may transfer to Monsieur Ostein [Count 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,
however forced, is still a compliance. Their continuing, unasked,
the style 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 Monsieur
Ostein that his Majesty intends to have a minister at the court of
Copenhagen, the explanation you may give of this suspension of former
directions and his determinations being left to your own discretion.
"You will not be that minister. His Majesty will have occasion for
your services in a more eligible situation, and, as soon as you have
discharged your duty to the Queen of Denmark by attending her to
Stade, you will return home, either on board his Majesty's ship which
conveyed you thither, or, if the passage by sea is disagreeable to
you, by land, with the least possible delay.
"I am, with great truth and regard, Sir,
"Your most obedient and humble servant,
"SUFFOLK."[64]
[64] _Memoirs and Correspondence of Sir R. Murray Keith_, vol. i.
"ST. JAMES'S, _May 1, 1772_.
"For your own information, I enclose a list of the ships which were
intended to enforce the demand for the Queen of Denmark's liberty, if
it had been refused. Those from Plymouth would have been sailed if
the countermand had been a few hours later than it was. The others
were just ready to proceed to the Downs, and the whole fleet would
probably have by this time been on their way to Copenhagen, under the
command of Sir Charles Hardy.
"I am, etc.,
"SUFFOLK."[65]
[65] _Memoirs and Correspondence of Sir R. Murray Keith_, vol. i.
The public curiosity in London, which had been keenly aroused by
the news that a fleet was being hastily fitted out for the Baltic,
was no less excited when the preparations were suddenly stopped by
a counter-order, sent to Portsmouth on April 22. Though no official
information was vouchsafed, people shrewdly guessed the truth. Horace
Walpole gives a fair idea of the gossip which was floating about
London:--
"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 approve of 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 would be spared,
for though the Danes had thirty ships and the best seamen next to ours,
and though we were sending but ten ships against them, the governing
party were alarmed, probably from not being sure that their nation was
with them."[66]
[66] Walpole, _Journals of the Reign of George III._
Again: "They gave her [the Queen of Denmark] 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,[67] told me he had seen it before the secretary
gave it to the King. It was now believed that this intelligence had
occasioned the Princess of Wales to make an extraordinary journey to
Germany, where she saw her daughter, though to no purpose. Princess
Amelia told Lord Hertford on the 26th [April] ... 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.'"[68]
[67] The account of the Queen's alleged intrigue with Struensee.
[68] Walpole, _Journals of the Reign of George III._, vol. i.
Queen Matilda's destination had been determined by her brother before
her release was assured. Matilda had herself petitioned that she
might be allowed to return to England, and live the rest of her life
among her own people; but this natural request was refused. The King
at first was inclined to grant it, and, if the Princess-Dowager of
Wales had been alive, no doubt it would have been granted. But Queen
Charlotte, who had always shown the greatest jealousy of the King's
sisters, and had quarrelled fiercely with the Princess of Brunswick,
displayed the bitterest animus against the unfortunate Matilda, who
surely could have given her no cause of offence, for she had left
England when a child of fifteen. It is probable that the King's harsh
judgment of his sister, and his slowness to intervene on her behalf,
were instigated by Queen Charlotte, who now shrilly opposed the idea of
Matilda returning to England. Her rigid virtue rose in arms at the bare
suggestion of such a thing; she declared that she would not receive
her sister-in-law; that her presence at court would be an insult; that
she would contaminate the young princesses, her daughters, and be to
them a bad example. Queen Charlotte had her way, for the King did not
venture to stand up against the tempest of her virtuous indignation. He
then thought of sending his sister to Hanover; there were three empty
palaces there, and his Hanoverian subjects would be sure to receive her
kindly. But Queen Charlotte opposed that too: Hanover was too gay a
place, she said, for one who ought to hide her head from all the world;
and at her instigation her brother, Prince Charles of Mecklenburg, who
commanded there, raised objections also. The idea of sending Matilda to
Lüneburg was out of the question, for there was no house there, and it
was too near the frontier of Denmark. So at last the King decided upon
Celle as the most suitable place for his sister to find a refuge. True,
Prince Ernest of Mecklenburg-Strelitz commanded the garrison, another
of the Queen's brothers (Queen Charlotte provided for all her needy
relatives at the expense of her adopted country), but he was young
and unmarried, and offered no objection. On the contrary, he looked
forward to the advent of the Queen as a break in the monotony of Celle.
To Celle, therefore, it was determined she should go.
Celle was an old town in the King's Hanoverian dominions, about twenty
miles north of Hanover. It was formerly the capital of the Dukes of
Brunswick-Lüneburg, and the town was dominated by the magnificent
castle where they formerly held their court.[69] The last Duke of
Celle was George William, brother of Ernest Augustus, first Elector of
Hanover and the father of George I. of England. George I., then the
Hereditary Prince of Hanover, married his cousin, the only daughter
of the Duke of Celle, the unfortunate Sophie Dorothea. At Duke George
William's death he became, through his marriage, possessed of the
dukedom of Celle, which was merged into the electorate of Hanover.
Since the death of Duke George William in 1705, there had no longer
been a court at Celle, and the importance of the town had waned, while
that of its rival, Hanover, had increased, though Celle still remained
a seat of justice, and a garrison was quartered there. The castle as
a place of residence needed many things to make it habitable. George
III. now gave orders that it was to be thoroughly repaired, and a suite
of apartments re-decorated and furnished for his sister, and rooms
prepared for the accommodation of her household.
[69] The ancestors of the royal families of England, Germany (Prussia)
and Hanover all lived at Celle.
Keith carried to the imprisoned Queen the tidings of her deliverance
early in May. It was with feelings of triumph and gladness that he
hastened to Kronborg to inform her of his success, and the King of
England's plans for her future welfare. As he wrote to his sister: "To
demand the liberty of a captive Queen, and to escort her to a land of
freedom is truly such a commencement of my chivalry as savours strongly
of the romantic. You will easily judge of the warmth of your brother's
zeal in the execution of a commission so well adapted to his genius.
Can you figure to yourself what he must have felt in passing through
the vaulted entrance of Hamlet's castle to carry to an afflicted and
injured princess these welcome proofs of fraternal affection and
liberty restored?"[70] His emotion was reciprocated, for, when Keith
came into the Queen's chamber and told her the glad news, she burst
into grateful tears, embraced him, and called him her deliverer. The
gallant soldier could have had no better reward.
[70] _Memoirs and Correspondence of Sir R. Murray Keith_, vol. i.
It was Keith's duty and pleasure now to inform the Queen that she was
no longer to consider herself a prisoner, but was merely residing in
the King of Denmark's palace of Kronborg until such time as the English
squadron should arrive to escort her to her brother's Hanoverian
dominions with every mark of honour and respect. He also told her of
the other concessions he had obtained for her; he had wrung almost
everything from her enemies except a proclamation of her innocence. On
this delicate subject the Queen is stated to have said that she found
some consolation in the thought that time would clear her character. "I
am young; I may, therefore, perhaps live," said she, "to see Denmark
disabused with respect to my conduct; whereas my poor mother, one
of the best women that ever lived, died while the load of obloquy
was heavy upon her, and went to her grave without the pleasure of a
vindicated character."[71] Throughout her imprisonment at Kronborg
Matilda had worn black--"in mourning," she said, "for her murdered
reputation".
[71] _General Evening Post_, May 14, 1772.
Though Keith brought to Matilda the news of her deliverance early
in May, it was not until the end of that month that the Queen left
Kronborg. During that time she saw the English envoy almost every day,
though he, too, like herself, was making preparations for departure.
She was no longer treated as a prisoner, but rendered all the honour
due to her rank, and she was free to wander within the outer walls of
the fortress as she pleased--a very large space. The Queen's favourite
walk was on the ramparts in front of the castle, where she would often
pace for hours together, straining her eyes across the grey waters of
the sea to catch the first glimpse of the British squadron which was
to take her away from Denmark. She declared that until she beheld the
British flag she would not feel herself safe. The Queen-Dowager was
now quite as anxious to get Matilda out of Denmark as she was to go,
and to this end agreed to almost everything suggested by Keith, and in
some respects even went beyond his suggestions. Matilda had a great
many jewels, which were not the property of the Danish crown, but her
own. Some of them she had brought with her from England; others had
been given her by the King, her husband; some she had purchased with
her own money. All of these had been seized by Juliana Maria, together
with the Queen's clothes and her personal possessions. When Matilda was
first sent to Kronborg she had little or nothing beyond the clothes she
wore, but little by little, grudgingly, things had been sent her. Now
the Queen-Dowager volunteered to send Matilda the jewels which King
Christian had given her; but the wronged wife rejected the offer with
disdain. She would take no favour she said; she wished to have nothing
to remind her of the husband who had repudiated her, or the country
which had treated her so cruelly; as a British princess she would
retain none of the trappings of her Danish slavery. The question formed
a subject of despatches, and Lord Suffolk wrote to Keith as follows:
"His Majesty does not see any objection to his sister receiving the
jewels you mention, which were formerly given, and are now intended
to be delivered to her. Her Danish Majesty will thereby only retain a
property, not accept a present. There seems no occasion for rejecting
the attention voluntarily offered; but, if the Queen of Denmark is very
averse from the proposition, his Majesty does not wish to control
her inclination." The Queen _was_ very averse, and so the offer was
rejected. But Matilda requested that her personal trinkets which she
had brought from England, and her books, clothing and other things,
left scattered about in the King of Denmark's palaces, should be packed
up and sent to her new home at Celle. We shall see how that order was
carried out later.
On May 27 the Queen's longing eyes were gladdened by the sight of the
English squadron rounding the point off Elsinore. The Queen was at
dinner when the guns at Kronborg saluted and the English ships answered
back. She immediately ran out on the ramparts, and wept with joy at
the sight of the British flag. Yet it was with mingled feelings that
she beheld it, for the vessels which were to carry her away to liberty
were also to carry her away from the child whom she dearly loved.
The squadron consisted of the _Southampton_ (Captain Macbride), the
_Seaford_ (Captain Davis), and the _Cruiser_ (Captain Cummings). Keith,
who had now said good-bye to Copenhagen to his great satisfaction, and
had handed over the affairs of the legation to his secretary, was at
Kronborg when the ships anchored off Elsinore. He at once went down to
the harbour to meet Captain Macbride, and conduct him to the castle to
have audience of the Queen.
[Illustration: A VIEW OF ELSINORE, SHOWING THE CASTLE OF KRONBORG.
_From the Drawing by C. F. Christensen._]
The Queen received Captain Macbride very graciously, and conversed with
him a few minutes. When he asked her when it would please her to
sail, she exclaimed: "Ah, my dear children!" and, putting her hands to
her face, abruptly quitted the room. Later she sent Captain Macbride
a message, asking him to forgive her emotion, and appointing two days
later, May 30, as the date of her departure.
When it was known that the British squadron was anchored off Elsinore,
great excitement prevailed at the Danish court. By way of speeding the
parting guest, perhaps also to spy upon her, a deputation of noblemen
was sent from Copenhagen by the Queen-Dowager to formally wait upon
Matilda and wish her a pleasant voyage. Queen Matilda received the
deputation with quiet dignity, and said the day would come when the
King would know that he had been betrayed and deceived, but, for
herself, she henceforth lived only for her children.
On the day appointed by the Queen for her departure, a lady from the
Danish court arrived at Kronborg in one of the royal coaches, with an
escort, to take charge of the Princess Louise Augusta. The Queen was
agonised at parting from the infant, who had been her sole consolation
in the dreary months of her captivity, and whom she had nursed at the
breast. She even thought her liberty purchased at too dear a price.
The hope that this child would be allowed to remain with her had been
one of the inducements which led her to sign the damning paper called
her confession. It must have been a bitter thought to her that she had
signed away her honour in vain, and the babe for whom she made this
supreme sacrifice was to be torn from her arms. For a long time the
Queen held her child to her breast, and wept over it, showering on it
caresses and endearing words. The lady who had come to take charge
of the infant, and all who witnessed the parting, were hardly less
affected; but the scene could not be prolonged for ever. Pleadings
and remonstrances were unavailing, and the women had almost to use
force to take the little princess from her mother's arms. At last the
heart-broken Queen yielded her infant, and cried wildly, "Let me away,
for I now possess nothing here!"
By this time it was six o'clock in the evening. Everything was ready
for the Queen's departure, and Captain Macbride and Sir Robert Keith
had been waiting at the castle all the afternoon to escort the Queen on
board. At last she was ready to leave. It was arranged that the Queen
should be attended as far as Stade by Count and Countess Holstein,
Fräulein Mösting and a page. Of her other Danish attendants the Queen
now took farewell, and many of them were moved to tears. She also bade
adieu to the commandant of Kronborg and his wife, and exonerated them
from all blame for the deprivations she had suffered. She thanked the
commandant for what he had done directly he was allowed to ameliorate
the rigours of her captivity; to his wife she gave a gold snuff-box as
a souvenir. Nor did she forget the poor prisoners, for whom she left a
sum of money. Though she came to Kronborg a prisoner she left it as a
Queen, and a Queen to whom full honours were paid. The guard presented
arms and an escort was drawn up in the courtyard; the Queen descended
the stone stairs up which she had been hurried five months before, and
entered her coach. The commandant accompanied her to the outermost gate
of the fortress, where he took his leave. Thence it was only a few
yards to the harbour, where a Danish royal barge was waiting to row the
Queen out to the English squadron.
Immediately the Queen and her suite stepped on board H.M.S.
_Southampton_ the royal standard of England was unfurled, and the
cannon of Kronborg and of the Danish guardship in the Sound fired
a salute of twenty-one guns. The anchors were weighed immediately,
and the little English squadron set sail up the Cattegat, for it was
decided to go round Jutland, and so avoid Copenhagen. It was a fine
summer's night, and the Queen remained on deck, her eyes fixed on the
vanishing fortress (her child was to remain there until the morrow,
when she was to be taken to Copenhagen); nor could she be persuaded to
go below until darkness intercepted her view. As there was little wind
during the night the vessels made small headway. At the first break of
dawn the Queen was on deck again, and to her satisfaction found that
she could still catch a glimpse of the towers of Kronborg, which she
watched until they faded from her view.
Owing to contrary winds the voyage to Stade took several days. The
Queen is said to have beguiled her voyage by writing a long poem
beginning:--
At length from sceptred care and deadly state,
From galling censure and ill-omened hate,
From the vain grandeur where I lately shone,
From Kronborg's prison and from Denmark's throne
I go.[72]
[72] This poem was found among Sir R. M. Keith's papers after his
death, headed: "Written at sea by the Queen of Denmark on her passage
to Stade, 1772." But the writing was not that of the Queen, and, as
Matilda had no gift for literary composition, it is doubtful whether it
is genuine. I therefore only quote the first five lines.