THE TEMPTER.
1769-1770.
A single interview sufficed to break down the Queen's prejudice against
Struensee. His manner was so tactful and deferential; he seemed to be
so grieved at her condition, and so anxious to serve her that before
he withdrew she was convinced she had misjudged him. He was as skilful
as he was sympathetic; the remedies he prescribed took effect almost
immediately, and when the doctor again waited on his royal patient
he found her better. Struensee's visits were repeated daily, and as
Matilda improved in health she was naturally grateful to the physician
who wrought this change. She also became attracted by his tact and
courtesy, so different from the treatment she met with from Holck and
his party. She began to talk to the doctor on general subjects, and
discovered that he was an extremely intelligent and well-read man.
Struensee flattered himself that he had even more knowledge of the
human heart--and especially of the heart of woman--than of medicine.
He sought to amuse and distract the Queen, until she looked forward to
his visits with pleasure, and every day gave him longer audience than
before.
Struensee was one of those doctors who find out what their patients
like to do, and then advise them to do it, and after several
conversations with the Queen, he arrived at most of her likes and
dislikes. The Queen, having been bred in England, was fond of an
outdoor life. In Denmark at that time ladies of rank never went outside
their gates except in a carriage, and for them to ride or walk about
the streets was unknown. Struensee advised that the Queen should set a
precedent, and walk and ride when, and where, she pleased. In pursuance
of this advice the Queen, a few days later, to the astonishment of
many, was seen walking briskly about the streets of Copenhagen,
attended by her ladies. She also rode a great deal, and, though she
did not at first appear in public on horseback, she spent hours riding
about the park and woods of Frederiksborg. Matilda much enjoyed her
new-found freedom, which made a great flutter in all grades of society
in Copenhagen. The Danish _Mercury_ wrote a poem on the subject of the
Queen walking in the town ending with the lines:--
Thanks, Matilda, thanks for the discovery,
You've taught healthy women to use their legs.
Struensee also advised the Queen that it was bad for her to remain so
much alone. She must have amusement, surround herself with cheerful
people and join in the court festivities. He hinted that it was
advisable for her to take a more prominent part in these ceremonials,
not only because of her health, but because it was incumbent upon her
position as the reigning Queen, which, he added discreetly, some people
about the court did not seem to respect as they should do. Matilda,
who was not very wise, rose to the bait, and before long confided to
her physician the mortification and annoyance she suffered from Holck
and his following. Struensee listened sympathetically, and told the
Queen that though he had not ventured to mention the matter before,
he had noticed with amazement and indignation the scant consideration
paid to her at her own court. The desire of his heart, he said, was
to serve her, and if she would only listen to him, he would improve
this state of affairs as surely as he had improved her health. Here
the doctor obviously stepped outside his province, but the Queen, far
from rebuking him, encouraged him to proceed. Struensee then said
deferentially that, since all power and authority came from the King,
the Queen would be well advised to court his favour. This advice was
not so palatable to Matilda as the other he had given her, especially
at this juncture. She could not forget in a moment how cruelly she had
been wronged, and she hesitated. Then Struensee changed his note and
urged the Queen's own interest. He spoke to her plainly of the King's
failing mental powers, and declared that henceforth he must always be
ruled by some one. It were better, therefore, that the Queen should
rule him than another, for by doing so she would gather the regal
power into her own hands and so confound her enemies. The King was
anxious to repair the past; it was for the Queen to meet him half-way.
The Queen suspiciously asked the doctor what was his object in striving
to mediate between her and the King. Struensee replied, with every
appearance of frankness, that he was studying his own interests quite
as much as those of the King and Queen. The King had been pleased to
show him especial marks of his favour, and he wished to remain in his
present position. He had noticed that all the preceding favourites of
the King had striven to promote disunion between Christian and his
consort, and they had, one after another, fallen out of favour and been
banished from court. Their fate was a warning to him, and an instinct
of self-preservation prompted him to bring about a union between the
King and Queen, because by so doing he was convinced that he would
inevitably strengthen his own position.
After some hesitation Matilda proceeded to act on this advice also,
and, short of admitting the King to intimacy, she sought in every way
to please him. The King, also prompted by Struensee, responded with
alacrity to his wife's overtures, and came to lean upon the Queen more
and more. Before long Matilda's influence over her husband became
obvious to all. The young Queen delighted in the deference and homage
which the time-serving courtiers now rendered to her. Holck's star was
on the wane; he still filled the post of Master of the Ceremonies,
but it was the Queen who commanded the revels, and changed, or
countermanded, Holck's programme as she pleased.
Struensee was now surely gaining ground. Both the King and the Queen
placed their confidence in him, with the result, as he predicted, that
he stood on a firmer footing than any former favourite. The Queen gave
him audience every day, and the conversations between them became more
intimate and more prolonged. There was nothing, however, at first to
show that the Queen had anything more than a liking for the clever
doctor, whose society amused and interested her, and whose zeal in her
service was apparently heart-whole. Everything so far had succeeded
exactly as Struensee foretold, and the vision of future happiness and
power, which he portrayed in eloquent terms, dazzled the young Queen's
imagination, while his homage and devotion flattered her vanity.
Struensee's appearance and manner were such as to impress any woman.
He was thirty-two years of age, tall and broad shouldered, and in the
full strength of manhood. Though not really handsome, he appeared to
be so in a dashing way, and he made the most of all his points and
dressed with consummate taste. He had light brown hair, flashing eyes,
an aquiline nose and a high forehead. He carried himself well, and
there was about him a suggestion of reserved strength, both mental and
physical. His manner to the Queen was a combination of deference and
easy assurance, which pleased her mightily. By the end of January,
1770, the Queen no longer needed medical advice, but she required
Struensee's services in other ways, and the more she saw of him the
more she became attracted to him. Soon a further mark of the royal
favour was shown to the doctor, and a handsome suite of rooms was given
him in the Christiansborg Palace.
Holck was the first to take alarm at the growing influence of the new
favourite, and came to regard him as a rival who would ultimately
drive him from court. Struensee looked upon Holck with contempt, and
was indifferent whether he went or stayed. But the Queen insisted that
he must go at the first opportunity, and Struensee promised that her
wishes should be obeyed in this, as in all things--in a little time.
Holck confided his fears to Bernstorff, warned him that the doctor was
playing for high stakes, and advised him to remove Struensee from the
King's person before it was too late. To the aristocratic Bernstorff,
however, it seemed impossible that a man of the doctor's birth and
antecedents could be any real danger, and he laughed at Holck's
warning. This is the more surprising, as both the Russian and English
envoys spoke to the Prime Minister about the sudden rise of Struensee,
and advised him to watch it well. The Russian minister, Filosofow,
went further, and presumed to make some remarks to the King on the
subject, which Christian ignored at the time, but afterwards repeated
to Struensee and the Queen.
This interference on the part of Filosofow was no new thing. For
some years the Russian envoy had practically dictated to the Danish
King whom he should appoint and whom he should dismiss from his
service. He even presumed to meddle in the private affairs of the
Danish court, no doubt at the instigation of his mistress, Catherine
the Great. The Danish King and Government submitted to this bondage
until the treaty was signed, by which Russia exchanged her claims on
Schleswig-Holstein for the counties of Oldenburg and Delmenhorst.
As this exchange was eagerly desired by Denmark, the mere threat of
stopping it threw the King and his ministers into alarm, and made
Russia mistress of the situation. Curiously enough Filosofow, who was a
very astute diplomatist, did not realise the changed state of affairs,
and continued to dictate to the King as before. The haughty Russian did
not consider Struensee to be of any account from a political point of
view, but personally he objected to meeting him on terms of equality.
He had also, it was said, a grievance against Struensee, because he had
outrivalled him in the affections of a beautiful lady of the Danish
court. For some time he fretted at the royal favour shown to the
upstart doctor, and at last he showed his contempt for him by a public
act of insolence.
It chanced in this wise. Wishing to conciliate the Danish monarch,
Filosofow gave a splendid entertainment to the King and Queen at the
Russian embassy. It consisted of an Italian opera, composed for the
occasion, and performed by persons of fashion about the court,[120]
and was followed by a banquet. Struensee, who was now invited to the
court entertainments, as a member of the third class, was present, and
so marked was the favour shown him by the King and Queen that he was
admitted to the box where the royal personages were. Filosofow, in his
capacity of host, was also in the box, and he was so much irritated at
the presence of the doctor that he showed his disgust by spitting on
his coat. Struensee, with great self-control, treated the insult as
though it were an accident, wiped his coat, and said nothing. Filosofow
immediately insulted him again in the same way. This time the action
was so unmistakable that Struensee withdrew from the royal box, and
later demanded satisfaction of Filosofow. The Russian treated the
challenge with contempt. He said that in his country an ambassador did
not fight a duel with a common doctor, but he would take his revenge in
another way, and give him a sound thrashing with his cane. Whether he
carried out his threat is uncertain, but it is certain that Struensee
never forgave the insult. The Queen also resented the flouting of her
favourite, and, despite the attempted mediation of Bernstorff, she
ignored Filosofow at court, and spoke with dislike of him and his
mistress, the Empress Catherine, who, she thought, was responsible
for her envoy's meddlesome policy. A few months before it would have
mattered little what the Queen thought, or did not think, but now her
influence with the King was growing every day.
[120] _Vide_ Gunning's despatch, Copenhagen, March 31, 1770. _Ibid._,
April 24, 1770.
Eventually Filosofow had to retire from Copenhagen and give place to
another, but that was not yet. At this time he again warned Bernstorff
that his days of power were numbered, unless he forthwith took steps
to get Struensee removed from court. In this the envoy proved more
far-sighted than the minister, for Bernstorff still considered it an
incredible thing that his position could be seriously threatened. Yet
within a month of the Russian's warning the extraordinary favour which
Struensee enjoyed with the King and Queen was further demonstrated.
The small-pox raged in Denmark in the spring of this year, 1770, and
in Copenhagen alone twelve hundred children died of it. Struensee
advised that the Crown Prince should be inoculated as a prevention.
Inoculation had lately been introduced into Denmark, and Struensee's
suggestion was met with a storm of protest from some of the nobility,
all the clergy and many of the doctors. Despite this Struensee carried
his point; he inoculated the Crown Prince and watched over him in the
brief illness that followed. Matilda herself nursed her son, and would
not leave his bedside day or night. Her presence in the sick-room threw
the Queen and the doctor continually together. Struensee was justified
of his wisdom, for the Crown Prince not only escaped the small-pox, but
soon rallied from the inoculation which it had been freely prophesied
would cause his death. The doctor was rewarded with signal marks of the
royal favour; he was given the title of Conferenzrath, or Councillor of
Conference, which elevated him to the second class, and was appointed
reader to the King, _lecteur du roi_, and private secretary to the
Queen, with a salary of three thousand dollars. Ministers were amazed
at the sudden elevation of the favourite, and began to ask themselves
whither all this was tending.
Step by step as Struensee rose in honour Matilda gained in power. It
was now apparent to all about the court that the Queen, and not the
King, was the real ruler of Denmark. The Queen's ascendency over her
consort was so great that he did nothing without her approval. She in
turn was guided by Struensee; but, whereas the Queen's authority was
seen by all, Struensee's power at this time was only guessed at. His
plans were not matured. The prize was within his grasp, but he was
careful not to snatch at it too soon lest he should lose it altogether.
Struensee now accompanied the King and Queen wherever they went, and,
since his elevation to the second rank, dined at the royal table.
Bernstorff seems to have thought that these privileges were all that
Struensee cared about, and given money, a title and social position the
doctor would be content, like Holck, with the royal favour, and leave
politics alone. He little knew that Struensee in his heart despised
these things; they were to him merely the means to an end, and that end
was power. In his pursuit of power Struensee swept every consideration
aside. Honour, duty and gratitude were nothing to him provided he
gained his desire. In his belief in his destiny, his great abilities,
his soaring ambition and complete heedlessness of every one save
himself, this extraordinary man was a type of the _uebermensch_.
Struensee's treatment of the Queen was an example of his utter
unscrupulousness. Her condition when he came to court would have
moved any man to pity. Her youth, her beauty and her friendlessness
appealed to every sentiment of chivalry. The conditions under which
Struensee made her acquaintance were the most intimate and delicate.
He quickly gained her confidence; she trusted him from the first, and
showed her gratitude by heaping favours upon him. Everything that
came to Struensee in the next few years--honour, place and power--he
owed to the Queen, and to her alone. Common gratitude, apart from any
other consideration, should have led him to treat her honourably,
but from the beginning he was false to her. He who came in the guise
of a deliverer was really her evil genius. The young Queen was never
anything to him but a means to an end. Adventurer and intriguer as
he was, Struensee had marked Matilda down as his prey before he was
admitted to her presence, and she fell an easy victim to his wiles.
He made use of her as a shield, behind which he could work in safety.
She was to be the buffer between him and his enemies; she was to be
the ladder by which he would rise in power. To this end he tempted
her with consummate art. He was first her confidential physician, then
her devoted servant, then her friend and counsellor, and then her
lover. This last phase was necessary to the success of his plans, and
he deliberately lured his victim to her ruin in order that he might
gain absolute mastery over her. Struensee gradually acquired over the
Queen an almost mesmeric power, and she became so completely under his
influence that she obeyed his wishes like an automaton. But it did not
need hypnotism to cause a woman so tempted, so beset on every side as
Matilda was, to fall. She had inherited from her father an amorous,
pleasure-loving nature; she was of a warm, affectionate disposition,
which had been driven back on itself by her husband's cruelty and
infidelities. Now, it was true, the King was anxious to make amends,
but it was too late. Christian had greatly changed in appearance during
the last year. Though little over twenty, he already looked like an
old man, very thin, with sharp, drawn features and dead-looking eyes.
Matilda, on the contrary, was in the full flood of womanhood; her blood
flowed warmly in her veins, yet she was tied to a husband who, from his
excesses, was ruined mentally and physically, and she was tempted by a
lover in the full strength of his manhood, a lover who was both ardent
and masterful, and whose strength of will broke down all her defences
as though they had been built of cards. Moreover, her environment
was bad--as bad as it could be. The atmosphere of the court was one
of undisguised immorality; the marriage tie was openly mocked at and
derided. The King had often told her to go her own way and let him go
his, and now so far from showing any signs of jealousy, he seemed to
take a delight in watching the growth of the intimacy between his wife
and the confidential physician. He was always sending Struensee to the
Queen's chamber on some pretext or another, and the more Matilda showed
her liking for Struensee's society the more the King seemed to be
pleased. That clever devil, opportunity, was all on Struensee's side.
The Queen had no safeguards against temptation but those which arose
from the promptings of her own conscience. That she did not yield
without a struggle, that the inward conflict was sharp and bitter,
there is evidence to prove.
_O keep me innocent, make others great!_
was the pathetic prayer she wrote on the window of the chapel of
Frederiksborg[121] at a time, when in the corridors and ante-chambers
of the palace Struensee was plotting his tortuous intrigues, all of
which started from the central point of his relations with the Queen.
It was he who wished to be great, she who was to make him great, and
to this end he demanded the sacrifice of her innocence. The poor young
Queen knew her peril, but she was like a bird fascinated by a snake.
She fluttered a little, helplessly, and then fell.
[121] This window, with the Queen's writing cut with a diamond on a
pane of glass, was destroyed by the great fire at Frederiksborg in 1859.
The struggle was prolonged for some months, but the end was certain
from the first. It was probably during the spring of 1770 that the
flood of passion broke the Queen's last barriers down. Her enemies
afterwards declared that she entered on this fatal dalliance about the
time of the Crown Prince's illness. Certain it is that after Struensee
had been appointed her private secretary, a marked change took place
in Matilda's manner and bearing. She is no longer a pathetic figure
of wronged and youthful innocence, but appears as a beautiful and
self-willed woman who is dominated by a great passion. There were no
half measures about Matilda; her love for Struensee was the one supreme
love of her life; it was a love so unselfish and all-absorbing, so
complete in its abandonment, that it wrung reluctant admiration even
from those who blamed it most.
Once the Rubicon crossed, reserve, discretion, even ordinary prudence,
were thrown to the winds. Struensee's object seems to have been to
compromise the Queen as much as possible, so that she could not draw
back. He was always with her, and she granted him privileges which,
as Reverdil says, "would have ruined the reputation of any ordinary
woman," though it has been pleaded, on the other hand, that her
indifference to appearances was a proof of her innocence. The Queen and
her favourite were inseparable; he was admitted to her apartments at
all hours; she took solitary walks with him in the gardens and woods,
and she frequently drove and rode out alone with him; at balls and
masquerades, at the theatre and the opera, he was always by her side;
and in public and at court she followed him with her eyes, and did not
attempt to disguise the predilection she had for him.
The Queen had no one to remonstrate with her, or guard her from the
consequences of her imprudence. It was thought by some that the first
use Matilda would make of her new-found power would be to recall Madame
de Plessen, whose dismissal against her will she had bitterly lamented.
It would have been well for her if she had done so, for Madame de
Plessen would have saved her from herself. But if the idea crossed her
mind, Struensee would not permit it, for he well knew that the presence
of this strict duenna would be fatal to his plans. Madame von der Lühe,
Madame de Plessen's successor, though she shook her head in private,
did not venture to remonstrate with her mistress; her position, she
felt, was insecure, and she thought to strengthen it by compliance with
the Queen's whims. The maid of honour, Fräulein von Eyben, and some of
the inferior women of the Queen's household, secretly spied on their
mistress, set traps for her, and generally sought occasion to harm her.
But their opportunity was not yet, for the Queen was all-powerful.
Matilda had always found the stiff etiquette of the Danish court
wearisome; at Struensee's advice she abolished it altogether in
private, and dispensed with the attendance of her ladies, except in
public. This enabled her to see the doctor for hours alone--not that
she made any secret of these interviews. On the contrary, she talked
quite freely to her ladies about her friendship with Struensee, and
accounted for her preference by declaring that she owed him a debt of
gratitude for all he had done, and was doing, for her. He always took
her part; she said, "he had much sense and a good heart". And it must
be admitted he had apparently rendered her service; her health was
re-established, and her life was fuller and happier. No longer was she
slighted and set aside; she reigned supreme at her court, and all, even
her former enemies, sought to win her smiles.
The Queen's relations with the King were now uniformly friendly, and
he seemed quite content to leave authority in her hands. In return she
strove to humour him, and even stooped to gratify some of his most
absurd whims. It has already been stated that the imbecile Christian
had a weakness for seeing women in men's attire; "Catherine of the
Gaiters" captivated him most when she donned the uniform of an officer
in his service, and the complaisance of the former mistress on this
point was at least explicable. But Matilda was his wife and not his
mistress, his Queen and not his fancy of an hour, yet she did not
hesitate to array herself in male attire to please her husband, at the
suggestion of her lover. It may be, too, that she wished to imitate in
this, as in other things, the Empress of Russia, Catherine the Great,
who frequently wore uniforms and rode _en homme_. However this may
be, Matilda adopted a riding-habit made like that of a man, and rode
astride. The Queen often went out hunting with Struensee, or rode by
his side through the city, in this extraordinary attire. She wore
a dove-colour beaver hat with a deep gold band and tassels, a long
scarlet coat, faced with gold, a buff, gold-laced waistcoat, a frilled
shirt with a lace kerchief, buckskin small-clothes and spurs. She had
other riding-habits of different designs, but this was the one in which
she most frequently appeared in public. She was always splendidly
mounted and rode fearlessly. On horseback she looked a Diana, but
when she dismounted she did not appear to the same advantage, for
the riding-habit made her seem shorter than she really was, and she
already showed a tendency to stoutness, which the small-clothes did not
minimise. The Queen, however, was so enamoured of her male attire that
she frequently walked about the palace all day in it, to the offence of
many and the derision of others.[122]
[122] The Queen set the fashion to ride in male attire, and it soon
became the custom among the ladies of Copenhagen. Keith wrote a year
later: "An abominable riding-habit, with black slouched hat, has been
almost universally introduced here, which gives every woman an air of
an awkward postilion, and all the time I have been in Denmark I have
never seen the Queen out in any other garb".--_Memoirs._
The adoption of this riding-habit greatly tended to lessen the Queen's
popularity, while her intimacy with Struensee before long caused it
to disappear altogether. The staider and more respectable portion of
the community were ready to believe any evil of a woman who went out
riding like a man, and the clergy in particular were horrified; but
acting on Struensee's advice, the Queen never troubled to conciliate
the clergy. This was a great mistake in a puritanical country like
Denmark, where the Church had great power, if not in the immediate
circle of the court, at least among the upper and middle classes. Even
the semi-barbarous Danish nobility were disgusted. That the young
and beautiful Queen should have a favourite was perhaps, under the
circumstances, only to be expected; if he had been one of their own
order, the weakness would have been excused. But that she should stoop
to a man of _bourgeois_ origin, a mere doctor, who was regarded by the
haughty nobles as little above the level of a menial, was a thing which
admitted of no palliation.[123] But the Queen, blinded by her passion,
was indifferent to praise or blame, and Struensee took a delight in
demonstrating his power over her under their very eyes. It was the
favourite's mean revenge for the insults he had suffered from these
nobles.
[123] Even Frederick the Great (who was very broad-minded) wrote:
"L'acces que le médecin eut à la cour lui fit gagner imperceptiblement
plus d'ascendant sur l'esprit de la reine qu'il n'etoit convenable à un
homme de cette extraction".
[Illustration: QUEEN SOPHIA MAGDALENA, GRANDMOTHER OF CHRISTIAN VII.]
At the end of May, 1770, the old Queen Sophia Magdalena died at the
palace of Christiansborg. For the last few years of her life she
had lived in strict retirement, and had long ceased to exercise any
influence over her grandson, the King, in political affairs. The aged
widow of Christian VI. was much reverenced by the conservative party
in Denmark, and they complained that the court treated her memory with
disrespect. One incident in particular moved them to deep indignation,
and, if true, it showed how greatly Matilda had deteriorated under the
influence of her favourite. The body of Sophia Magdalena was embalmed,
and lay in state for some days in the palace of Christiansborg. The
public was admitted, and a great number of people of all classes
and ages, clad in mourning, availed themselves of this opportunity
of paying honour to the dead Queen. It was stated in Copenhagen by
Matilda's enemies that she showed her lack of good-feeling by passing
through the mourners in the room where the Queen-Mother lay in state,
leaning on the arm of Struensee, and clad in the riding-habit which
had excited the reprobation of Sophia Magdalena's adherents. This
story was probably a malicious invention,[124] but it is certain that
the court mourning for the venerable Queen-Mother was limited to the
shortest possible period, and the King and Queen a few days after her
death removed to Frederiksborg, where they lived in the same manner as
before. Neither the King nor the Queen attended the public funeral at
Röskilde, where the kings and queens of Denmark were buried, and Prince
Frederick went as chief mourner. Rightly or wrongly, the reigning Queen
was blamed for all this.
[124] It rests on the authority of Wittich (_Struensee_, by K. Wittich,
1879), who is bitterly hostile to Queen Matilda.