A Queen of Tears, vol. 1 of 2
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Title: A Queen of Tears, vol. 1 of 2
Author: W. H. Wilkins
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A QUEEN OF TEARS, VOL. 1 OF 2 ***
A QUEEN OF TEARS
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._
THE LOVE OF AN UNCROWNED QUEEN:
SOPHIE DOROTHEA, CONSORT OF GEORGE I., AND HER CORRESPONDENCE WITH
PHILIP CHRISTOPHER, COUNT KONIGSMARCK.
NEW AND REVISED EDITION.
_With 24 Portraits and Illustrations._
_8vo, 12s. 6d. net._
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.,
LONDON, NEW YORK AND BOMBAY.
[Illustration: O keep me innocent, make others great.
Caroline Mathilde.
_After the painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds, 1766._
_Walter S. Colls, Ph. Sc._]
A QUEEN OF TEARS
CAROLINE MATILDA, QUEEN OF
DENMARK AND NORWAY AND
PRINCESS OF GREAT BRITAIN
AND IRELAND
BY
W. H. WILKINS
_M.A., F.S.A._
_Author of "The Love of an Uncrowned Queen," and
"Caroline the Illustrious, Queen Consort of George II."_
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I.
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK AND BOMBAY
1904
PREFACE
Some years ago, when visiting Celle in connection with a book I was
writing on Sophie Dorothea, _The Love of an Uncrowned Queen_, I found,
in an unfrequented garden outside the town, a grey marble monument of
unusual beauty. Around the base ran an inscription to the effect that
it was erected in loving memory of Caroline Matilda, Queen of Denmark
and Norway, Princess of Great Britain and Ireland, who died at Celle
in 1775, at the age of twenty-three years. To this may be traced the
origin of this book, for until I saw the monument I had not heard of
this English Princess--a sister of George III. The only excuse to be
offered for this ignorance is that it is shared by the great majority
of Englishmen. For though the romantic story of Caroline Matilda is
known to every Dane--she is the Mary Stuart of Danish history--her name
is almost forgotten in the land of her birth, and this despite the fact
that little more than a century ago her imprisonment nearly led to a
war between England and Denmark.
Inquiry soon revealed the full measure of my ignorance. The dramatic
tale of Queen Caroline Matilda and her unhappy love for Struensee, her
Prime Minister, has been told in Danish, German, French and English in
a variety of ways. Apart from history and biography, it has formed the
theme of novels and plays, and even of an opera. The most trustworthy
works on the Queen and Struensee are written in Danish, a language
not widely read. In English nothing of importance has been written
about her for half a century,[1] and, owing to the fact that many
documents, then inaccessible, have since become available, the books
are necessarily incomplete, and most of them untrustworthy. Moreover,
they have been long out of print.
[1] I except Dr. A. W. Ward's contribution to the _Dictionary of
National Biography_, but this is necessarily brief. A list of the books
which have been written about the Queen in different languages will be
found in the Appendix.
My object, therefore, in writing this book has been to tell once
more the story of this forgotten "daughter of England" in the light
of recent historical research. I may claim to have broken fresh
ground. The despatches of Titley, Cosby, Gunning, Keith and Woodford
(British Ministers at Copenhagen, 1764-1775) and others, quoted in
this book, are here published for the first time in any language.
They yield authoritative information concerning the Queen's brief
reign at the Danish court, and the character of the personages who
took part, directly or indirectly, in the palace revolution of
1772. Even Professor E. Holm, of Copenhagen, in his admirable work,
_Danmark-Norges Historie_ (published in 1902), vol. iv. of which deals
with the Matilda-Struensee period, is ignorant of these important
despatches, which I found two years ago in the State Paper Office,
London. To these are added many documents from the Royal Archives
at Copenhagen; most of them, it is true, have been published in the
Danish, but they are unknown to English readers. I have also, in
connection with this book, more than once visited Denmark, and have
had access to the Royal Archives at Copenhagen, and to the palaces in
which the Queen lived during her unhappy life at the Danish court. I
have followed her to Kronborg, where she was imprisoned, and to Celle,
in Germany, where she died in exile. My researches at this latter place
may serve to throw light on the closing (and little-known) years of the
Queen's brief life. She rests at Celle by the side of her ancestress,
Sophie Dorothea, whose life in many ways closely resembled her own.
A word of explanation is perhaps necessary for the first few chapters
of this book. In all the biographies of Caroline Matilda written in
any language, her life in England before her marriage has received
scant consideration, probably on account of her extreme youth. As her
parentage and education were largely responsible for the mistakes of
her later years, I have sketched, with some detail, the characters of
her father and mother, and her early environment. This plan has enabled
me to describe briefly the English court from the death of Queen
Caroline to the accession of George III., and so to form a link with my
other books on the House of Hanover.
My thanks are due to Miss Hermione Ramsden for kindly translating for
me sundry documents from the Danish; to Mr. Louis Bobé, of Copenhagen,
for much interesting information; and to the Editor of the _Nineteenth
Century and After_ for allowing me to re-publish certain passages from
an article I recently contributed to that review on Augusta, Princess
of Wales. I must also thank the Earl of Wharncliffe for permitting
me to reproduce the picture of Lord Bute at Wortley Hall, and Count
Kielmansegg for similar permission with regard to the portrait of
Madame de Walmoden at Gülzow.
W. H. WILKINS.
_November, 1903._
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE v
CONTENTS ix
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xi
CHAPTER I.
BIRTH AND PARENTAGE 1
CHAPTER II.
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 19
CHAPTER III.
THE BETROTHAL 35
CHAPTER IV.
THE TRAINING OF A KING 52
CHAPTER V.
"THE NORTHERN SCAMP" 70
CHAPTER VI.
MATILDA'S ARRIVAL IN DENMARK 84
CHAPTER VII.
MARIAGE À LA MODE 106
CHAPTER VIII.
AT THE COURT OF DENMARK 124
CHAPTER IX.
THE BIRTH OF A PRINCE 138
CHAPTER X.
CHRISTIAN VII. IN ENGLAND 152
CHAPTER XI.
THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN 175
CHAPTER XII.
STRUENSEE 193
CHAPTER XIII.
THE TEMPTER 209
CHAPTER XIV.
THE QUEEN'S FOLLY 228
CHAPTER XV.
THE FALL OF BERNSTORFF 251
CHAPTER XVI.
QUEEN AND EMPRESS 265
CHAPTER XVII.
THE REFORMER 280
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE ORDER OF MATILDA 303
CHAPTER XIX.
THE DICTATOR 328
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
QUEEN MATILDA (_Photogravure_). _From the Painting
by Sir Joshua Reynolds, 1766_ _Frontispiece_
LEICESTER HOUSE, WHERE QUEEN MATILDA WAS BORN _Facing page_ 4
FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES, FATHER OF QUEEN MATILDA.
_From the Painting by J. B. Vanloo at Warwick
Castle, by permission of the Earl of Warwick_ " " 14
MADAME DE WALMODEN, COUNTESS OF YARMOUTH. _From
the Painting at Gülzow by permission of Count
Kielmansegg_ " " 24
JOHN, EARL OF BUTE. _From the Painting by Sir Joshua
Reynolds at Wortley Hall, by permission of the Earl
of Wharncliffe_ " " 36
THE ELDER CHILDREN OF FREDERICK AND AUGUSTA, PRINCE
AND PRINCESS OF WALES, PLAYING IN KEW GARDENS. _From
a Painting, temp. 1750_ " " 50
QUEEN LOUISE, CONSORT OF FREDERICK V. OF DENMARK AND
DAUGHTER OF GEORGE II. OF ENGLAND. _From a Painting
by Pilo in the Frederiksborg Palace_ " " 62
KING CHRISTIAN VII. _From the Painting by P.
Wichman, 1766_ " " 76
KEW PALACE, WHERE QUEEN MATILDA PASSED MUCH OF HER
GIRLHOOD. _From an Engraving, temp. 1751_ " " 90
THE MARRIAGE BALL OF CHRISTIAN VII. AND QUEEN
MATILDA IN THE CHRISTIANSBORG PALACE. _From a
Contemporary Print_ " " 104
THE CHRISTIANSBORG PALACE, COPENHAGEN. _From an Old
Print, temp. 1768_ " " 120
EDWARD, DUKE OF YORK, BROTHER OF QUEEN MATILDA.
_From the Painting by G. H. Every_ " " 132
QUEEN MATILDA RECEIVING THE CONGRATULATIONS OF THE
COURT ON THE BIRTH OF THE CROWN PRINCE FREDERICK.
_From a Contemporary Print_ " " 142
CARLTON HOUSE, PALL MALL, THE RESIDENCE OF THE
PRINCESS-DOWAGER OF WALES. _From a Print, temp.
1765_ " " 156
THE MASKED BALL GIVEN BY CHRISTIAN VII. AT THE OPERA
HOUSE, HAYMARKET. _From the "Gentleman's Magazine,"
1768_ " " 172
THE PALACE OF FREDERIKSBORG, FROM THE GARDEN
TERRACE. _From an Engraving, temp. 1768_ " " 180
WILLIAM HENRY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, BROTHER OF QUEEN
MATILDA. _From the Painting by H. W. Hamilton, 1771_
" " 190
STRUENSEE. _From an Engraving, 1771_ " " 206
QUEEN SOPHIA MAGDALENA, GRANDMOTHER OF CHRISTIAN
VII. " " 226
AUGUSTA, PRINCESS OF WALES, MOTHER OF QUEEN MATILDA.
_After a Painting by F. B. Vanloo_ " " 244
GEORGE III., BROTHER OF QUEEN MATILDA. _From a
Painting by Allan Ramsay (1767) in the National
Portrait Gallery_ " " 264
THE FREDERIKSBERG PALACE, NEAR COPENHAGEN. _From a
Print, temp. 1770_ " " 282
THE PALACE OF HIRSCHHOLM. _Temp. 1770_ " " 304
TWO RELICS OF QUEEN MATILDA IN THE ROSENBORG CASTLE,
COPENHAGEN. (1) THE INSIGNIA OF THE ORDER OF
MATILDA; (2) THE WEDDING GOBLET " " 330
QUEEN MATILDA AND HER SON, THE CROWN PRINCE OF
DENMARK. _From the Painting at the Rosenborg,
Copenhagen_ " " 348
CHAPTER I.
BIRTH AND PARENTAGE.
1751.
Caroline Matilda, Queen of Denmark and Norway, Princess of Great
Britain and Ireland (a sister of George III.), was born at Leicester
House, London, on Thursday, July 22, 1751. She was the ninth and
youngest child of Frederick Prince of Wales and of his wife Augusta
of Saxe-Gotha, and came into the world a little more than four months
after her father's death. There is a Scandinavian superstition to the
effect that children born fatherless are heirs to misfortune. The life
of this "Queen of Tears" would seem to illustrate its truth.
Caroline Matilda inherited many of her father's qualities, notably his
warm, emotional temperament, his desire to please and his open-handed
liberality. Both in appearance and disposition she resembled her father
much more than her mother. Some account of this Prince is therefore
necessary for a right understanding of his daughter's character, for,
though she was born after his death, the silent forces of heredity
influenced her life.
Frederick Prince of Wales was the elder son of George II. and of his
consort Caroline of Ansbach. He was born in Hanover during the reign of
Queen Anne, when the prospects of his family to succeed to the crown of
England were doubtful, and he did not come to England until he was in
his twenty-second year and his father had reigned two years. He came
against the will of the King and Queen, whose cherished wish was that
their younger son William Duke of Cumberland should succeed to the
English throne, and the elder remain in Hanover. The unkindness with
which Frederick was treated by his father had the effect of driving him
into opposition to the court and the government. He had inherited from
his mother many of the graces that go to captivate the multitude, and
he soon became popular. Every cast-off minister, every discontented
politician, sought the Prince of Wales, and found in him a ready weapon
to harass the government and wound the King. The Prince had undoubted
grievances, such as his restricted allowance and the postponement of
his marriage to a suitable princess. For some years after Frederick's
arrival in England the King managed to evade the question of the
marriage, but at last, owing chiefly to the clamour of the opposition,
he reluctantly arranged a match between the Prince of Wales and
Augusta, daughter of the reigning Duke of Saxe-Gotha.
The bride-elect landed at Greenwich in April, 1736, and, two days
after her arrival, was married to Frederick at the Chapel Royal,
St. James's. The Princess was only seventeen years of age and could
not speak a word of English. She was tall and slender, with an oval
face, regular features, bright, intelligent eyes, and an abundance
of light-brown hair. Frederick's marriage did not make him on better
terms with his parents, and in this family quarrel the Princess, who
soon showed that she possessed more than usual discretion, sided with
her husband. The disputes between the King and the Prince of Wales
culminated in an open act of revolt on the part of the latter, when,
with incredible folly, he carried off his wife, on the point of her
first lying-in, from Hampton Court to St. James's. Half an hour after
her arrival in London the Princess was delivered of a girl child,
Augusta, who later in life became Duchess of Brunswick. The King was
furious at this insubordination, and as soon as the Princess was
sufficiently recovered to be moved, he sent his son a message ordering
him to quit St. James's with all his household. The Prince and Princess
went to Kew, where they had a country house; and for a temporary London
residence (while Carlton House, which the Prince had bought, was being
repaired) they took Norfolk House, St. James's Square.
A few weeks after this rupture the illustrious Queen Caroline died,
to the great grief of the King and the nation. Her death widened the
breach in the royal family, for the King considered that his son's
undutiful conduct had hastened his mother's death. Frederick now
ranged himself in open opposition to the King and the government, and
gathered around him the malcontent politicians, who saw in Walpole's
fall, or Frederick's accession to the throne, their only chance of
rising to power. The following year, 1738, a son and heir (afterwards
George III.) was born to the Prince and Princess of Wales at Norfolk
House. This event strengthened the position of the Prince, especially
as the King's health was reported to be failing.
Frederick removed his household to Leicester House in Leicester Fields.
It was here, eleven years later, that his posthumous daughter Caroline
Matilda was born. Leicester House was built by the Earl of Leicester
in the reign of James I. There was a field before it in those days,
but a square was subsequently built around the field, and Leicester
House occupied the north-east corner of what was then Leicester Fields,
but is now known as Leicester Square. It was a large and spacious
house, with a courtyard in front, and the state rooms were admirably
adapted for receptions and levees, but as a residence it was not so
satisfactory. Frederick chiefly made use of Carlton House and Kew
for his family life, and kept Leicester House for entertaining. His
court there offered a curious parallel to the one his father had held
within the same walls in the reign of George I., when the heir to
the throne was also at variance with the King. Again Leicester House
became the rallying place of the opposition, again its walls echoed
with the sound of music and dance, again there flocked to its
assemblies ladies of beauty and fashion, elegant beaux, brilliant wits,
politicians and pamphleteers. Frederick's intelligence has been much
abused, but he was intelligent enough to gather around him at this time
much of what was best in the social life of the day, and his efforts
were ably seconded by his clever and graceful wife.
[Illustration: LEICESTER HOUSE, WHERE QUEEN MATILDA WAS BORN.]
After the fall of Walpole several of the Prince's friends took office,
and a formal, though by no means cordial, reconciliation was patched
up between the King and the Heir Apparent, but there was always veiled
hostility between them, and from time to time their differences
threatened to become acute. For instance, after the Jacobite rising the
Prince of Wales disapproved of the severities of his brother, the Duke
of Cumberland, "the butcher of Culloden," and showed his displeasure in
no unequivocal manner. When the Jacobite peers were condemned to death
the Prince and Princess interceded for them, in one case with success.
Lady Cromartie, after petitioning the King in vain for her husband's
life, made a personal appeal, as a wife and mother, to the Princess of
Wales, and brought her four children to plead with her as well. The
Princess said nothing, but, with evident emotion, summoned her own
children and placed them beside her. This she followed by praying the
King for Cromartie's life, and her prayer was granted.
After the reconciliation the Prince and Princess of Wales occasionally
attended St. James's, but since the death of Queen Caroline the court
of George II. had lost its brilliancy and become both gross and
dull, in this respect contrasting unfavourably with Leicester House.
Grossness and dulness were characteristic of the courts of our first
two Hanoverian kings, but whatever complaint might be brought against
Leicester House, the society there was far livelier and more refined
than that which assembled at St. James's. The popular grievance against
Leicester House was that it was too French. France was just then very
unpopular in England, and the British public did not like the French
tastes of the Prince of Wales--the masques imitated from Versailles,
the French plays acted by French players and the _petits soupers_. High
play also took place at Leicester House, but the Princess did her best
to discourage this. In the other frivolities which her husband loved
she acquiesced, more for the sake of keeping her influence over him
than because she liked them. Her tastes were simple, and her tendencies
puritanical.
At Kew the Prince and Princess of Wales led a quieter life, and here
the influence of the Princess was in the ascendant. Kew House was an
old-fashioned, low, rambling house, which the Prince had taken on a
long lease from the Capel family. The great beauty of Kew lay in its
extensive garden, which was improved and enlarged by Frederick. He
built there orangeries and hothouses after the fashion of Herrenhausen,
and filled them with exotics. Both Frederick and his wife had a love
of gardening, and often worked with their children in the grounds, and
dug, weeded and planted to their hearts' content. Sometimes they would
compel their guests to lend a hand as well. Bubb Dodington tells how he
went down to Kew on a visit, accompanied by several lords and ladies,
and they were promptly set to work in the garden, probably to their
disgust. Dodington's diary contains the following entries:--
"_1750, February 27._--Worked in the new walk at Kew.
"_1750, February 28._--All of us, men, women and children, worked at
the same place. A cold dinner."[2]
[2] Bubb Dodington's _Diary_, edition 1784.
It was like Frederick's monkeyish humour to make the portly and pompous
Dodington work in his garden; no doubt he hugely enjoyed the sight. The
Prince's amusements were varied, if we may judge from the following
account by Dodington:--
"_1750, June 28._--Lady Middlesex, Lord Bathurst, Mr. Breton and I
waited on their Royal Highnesses to Spitalfields to see the manufactory
of silk, and to Mr. Carr's shop in the morning. In the afternoon the
same company, with Lady Torrington in waiting, went in private coaches
to Norwood Forest to see a settlement of gypsies. We returned and went
to Bettesworth the conjurer, in hackney coaches. Not finding him we
went in search of the little Dutchman, but were disappointed; and
concluded the particularities of this day by supping with Mrs. Cannon,
the Princess's midwife."[3]
[3] Bubb Dodington's _Diary_, edition 1784.
These, it must be admitted, were not very intellectual amusements. On
the other hand it stands to Frederick's credit that he chose as his
personal friends some of the ablest men of the day, and found delight
and recreation in their society. Between him and Bolingbroke there
existed the warmest sympathy. When Bolingbroke came back to England
after Walpole's fall, he renewed his friendship with Frederick,
and often paced with him and the Princess through the gardens and
shrubberies of their favourite Kew, while he waxed eloquent over the
tyranny of the Whig oligarchy, which kept the King in thrall, and
held up before them his ideal of a patriot king. Both the Prince and
Princess listened eagerly to Bolingbroke's theories, and in after
years the Princess instilled them into the mind of her eldest son.
Chesterfield and Sir William Wyndham also came to Kew sometimes, and
here Frederick and Augusta exhibited with just pride their flower-beds
to Pope, who wrote of his patron--
And if yet higher the proud list should end
Still, let me add, no follower, but a friend.
The Prince not only sought the society of men of letters, but made some
attempts at authorship himself. His verse was not very remarkable; the
best perhaps was the poem addressed to the Princess beginning:--
'Tis not the liquid brightness of those eyes,
That swim with pleasure and delight;
Nor those heavenly arches which arise
O'er each of them, to shade their light:
and so on through five stanzas of praise of Augusta's charms, until:
No,--'tis that gentleness of mind, that love
So kindly answering my desire;
That grace with which you look, and speak, and move,
That thus has set my soul on fire.
Perhaps it was of these lines that the Prince once asked Lord Poulett
his opinion. "Sir," replied that astute courtier, "they are worthy of
your Royal Highness."
Notwithstanding his admiration of his wife, Frederick was not faithful
to her. But it may be doubted whether, after his marriage, he indulged
in any serious intrigue, and his flirtations were probably only
tributes offered to the shrine of gallantry after the fashion of the
day. In every other respect he was a good husband. He was also a
devoted father, a kind master to his servants, and a true friend. In
his public life he always professed a love of liberty. To a deputation
of Quakers he once delivered the following answer: "As I am a friend
to liberty in general, and to toleration in particular, I wish you may
meet with all proper favour, but, for myself, I never gave my vote in
parliament, and to influence my friends, or direct my servants, in
theirs, does not become my station. To leave them entirely to their own
consciences and understandings, is a rule I have hitherto prescribed
to myself, and purpose through life to observe." "May it please the
Prince of Wales," rejoined the Quaker at the head of the deputation, "I
am greatly affected with thy excellent notions of liberty, and am more
pleased with the answer thou hast given us, than if thou hadst granted
our request."
Frederick avowed a great love for the country over which he one day
hoped to reign; and, though French in his tastes rather than English,
he did all in his power to encourage the national sentiment. For
instance, it is recorded on one of his birthdays: "There was a very
splendid appearance of the nobility and gentry and their ladies at
Leicester House, and his Royal Highness observing some lords to wear
French stuffs, immediately ordered the Duke of Chandos, his Groom of
the Stole, to acquaint them, and his servants in general, that after
that day he should be greatly displeased to see them appear in any
French manufacture".[4]
[4] _The Annual Register_, January, 1748.
Moreover, he instilled in the minds of his children the loftiest
sentiments of patriotism. In view of the German predilections of
his father and grandfather the training which Frederick gave his
children, especially his eldest son, had much to do in after years
with reconciling the Tory and Jacobite malcontents to the established
dynasty. The wounds occasioned by the rising of 1745 were still
bleeding, but the battle of Culloden had extinguished for ever the
hopes of the Stuarts, and many of their adherents were casting about
for a pretext of acquiescing in the inevitable. These Frederick met
more than half way. He was not born in England (neither was Charles
Edward), but his children were, and he taught them to consider
themselves Englishmen and not Germans, and to love the land of their
birth. His English sentiments appear again and again in his letters and
speeches. They crop up in some verses which he wrote for his children
to recite at their dramatic performances. On one occasion the piece
selected for representation was Addison's play of _Cato_, in which
Prince George, Prince Edward, and the Princesses Augusta and Elizabeth
took part. Frederick wrote a prologue and an epilogue; the prologue was
spoken by Prince George. After a panegyric on liberty the future King
went on to say:--
Should this superior to my years be thought,
Know--'tis the first great lesson I was taught.
What! though a boy! it may with pride be said
A boy--in England born, in England bred;
Where freedom well becomes the earliest state,
For there the laws of liberty innate--etc., etc.
There came an echo of this early teaching years later when George III.
wrote into the text of his first speech to parliament the memorable
words: "Born and educated in this country, I glory in the name of
Briton".
In the epilogue spoken by Prince Edward similar sentiments were
expressed:--
In England born, my inclination,
Like yours, is wedded to this nation:
And future times, I hope, will see
Me General in reality.[5]
Indeed, I wish to serve this land,
It is my father's strict command;
And none he ever gave shall be
More cheerfully obeyed by me.
[5] Prince Edward, Duke of York, became a Vice-Admiral of the Blue.
We get many pleasant glimpses, in contemporary letters and memoirs,
of the domestic felicity of the royal household at Kew and Leicester
House; of games of baseball and "push pin," with the children in
the winter, of gardening and cricket in the summer, and of little
plays, sometimes composed by the Prince, staged by the Princess and
acted by their sons and daughters all the year round. "The Prince's
family," Lady Hervey writes, "is an example of innocent and cheerful
amusement,"[6] and her testimony is corroborated on all sides.
[6] Lady Hervey's _Letters_.
Frederick Prince of Wales died suddenly on March 20, 1751, to the
great grief of his wife and children, and the consternation of his
political adherents. The Prince had been suffering from a chill, but
no one thought that there was any danger. On the eighth day of his
illness, in the evening, he was sitting up in bed, listening to the
performance of Desnoyers, the violinist, when he was seized with a
violent fit of coughing. He put his hand upon his heart and cried,
"_Je sens la mort!_" The Princess, who was in the room, flew to her
husband's assistance, but before she could reach his side he was dead.
Later it was shown that the immediate cause of death was the breaking
of an abscess in his side, which had been caused by a blow from a
cricket ball a few weeks before. Cricket had been recently introduced
into England, and Frederick was one of the first to encourage the game,
which soon became national. He often played in matches at Cliveden and
Kew.
No Prince has been more maligned than Frederick Prince of Wales, and
none on less foundation. He opposed Walpole and the Whig domination,
and therefore the Whig pamphleteers of the time, and Whig historians
since, have poured on him the vials of their wrath, and contemptuously
dismissed him as half fool and half rogue. But the utmost that can
be proved against him is that he was frivolous, and unduly fond of
gambling and gallantry. These failings were common to the age, and in
his case they were largely due to his neglected youth. Badly educated,
disliked by his parents, to whom he grew up almost a stranger, and
surrounded from the day of his arrival in England by malcontents,
parasites and flatterers, it would have needed a much stronger man
than Frederick to resist the evil influences around him. His public
utterances, and there is no real ground for doubting their sincerity,
go to show that he was a prince of liberal and enlightened views, a
friend of peace and a lover of England. It is probable that, had he
been spared to ascend the throne, he would have made a better king than
either his father or grandfather. It is possible that he would have
made a better king than his son, for, though he was by no means so
good a man, he was more pliant, more tolerant, and far less obstinate.
Speculation is idle in such matters, but it is unlikely, if Frederick
had been on the throne instead of George III., that he would have
encouraged the policy which lost us our American colonies. Dying when
he did, all that can be said of Frederick politically is that he never
had a fair chance. Keeping the mean between two extreme parties in
the state he was made the butt of both, but the fact remains that he
attracted to his side some of the ablest among the moderate men who
cared little for party and much for the state. Certainly nothing in his
life justified the bitter Jacobite epigram circulated shortly after his
death:--
Here lies Fred,
Who was alive, and is dead,
Had it been his father,
I had much rather;
Had it been his brother,
Still better than another;
Had it been his sister,
No one would have missed her;
Had it been the whole generation,
So much better for the nation;
But since 'tis only Fred,
Who was alive, and is dead,
There's no more to be said.
George II. was playing cards when the news of his son's death was
brought to him. He turned very pale and said nothing for a minute; then
he rose, whispered to Lady Yarmouth, "_Fritz ist todt_," and quitted
the room. But he sent that same night a message of condolence to the
bereaved widow.
[Illustration: FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES, FATHER OF QUEEN MATILDA.
_From the Painting by J. B. Vanloo at Warwick Castle, by permission of
the Earl of Warwick._]
The death of her husband was a great blow to Augusta Princess of
Wales. Suddenly deprived of the prospect of becoming Queen of England,
she found herself, at the age of thirty-two, left a widow with eight
young children and expecting shortly to give birth to another. Her
situation excited great commiseration, and among the people the dead
Prince was generally regretted, for despite his follies he was known to
be kindly and humane. Elegies were cried about the streets, and very
common exclamations were: "Oh, that it were his brother!" "Oh, that
it were the Butcher!" Still it cannot be pretended that Frederick was
deeply mourned. A conversation was overheard between two workmen, who
were putting up the hatchment over the gate at Leicester House, which
fairly voiced the popular sentiment: "He has left a great many small
children," said one. "Aye," replied the other, "and what is worse, they
belong to our parish."
Contrary to expectation the King behaved with great kindness to his
daughter-in-law, and a few days after her bereavement paid her a visit
in person. He refused the chair of state placed for him, seated himself
on the sofa beside the Princess, and at the sight of her sorrow was
so much moved as to shed tears. When the Princess Augusta, his eldest
granddaughter, came forward to kiss his hand, he took her in his arms
and embraced her. To his grandsons the King said: "Be brave boys, be
obedient to your mother, and endeavour to do credit to the high station
in which you are born". He who had never acted the tender father
delighted in playing "the tender grandfather".[7]
[7] _Vide_ Horace Walpole's _Reign of George II._
A month after his father's death Prince George was created Prince
of Wales and Earl of Chester, but the young Prince, though always
respectful, never entertained any affectionate feelings for his
grandfather. This may have been due, in part, to the unforgiving spirit
with which the old King followed his son even to the tomb. Frederick's
funeral was shorn of almost every circumstance of state. No princes
of the blood and no important members of the government attended, and
he was buried in Westminster Abbey "without either anthem or organ".
Of the few faithful friends who attended the last rites, Dodington
writes: "There was not the attention to order the board of green cloth
to provide them a bit of bread; and these gentlemen of the first rank
and distinction, in discharge of their last sad duty to a loved, and
loving, master, were forced to bespeak a great, cold dinner from a
common tavern in the neighbourhood; at three o'clock, indeed, they
vouchsafed to think of a dinner and ordered one, but the disgrace was
complete--the tavern dinner was paid for and given to the poor".[8]
[8] Dodington's _Diary_, April 13, O.S., 1751, edition 1784.
Some five months after Frederick's death his widow gave birth to a
princess, the subject of this book. Dodington thus records the event,
which, except in the _London Gazette_, was barely noticed by the
journals of the day:--
"On Wednesday, the Princess walked in Carlton Gardens, supped and went
to bed very well; she was taken ill about six o'clock on Thursday
morning, and about eight was delivered of a Princess. Both well."[9]
[9] Dodington's _Diary_, July 13, O.S., 1751, edition 1784.
The advent of this daughter was hardly an occasion for rejoicing. Apart
from the melancholy circumstances of her birth, her widowed mother
had already a young and numerous family,[10] several of whom were far
from strong, and all, with the exception of her eldest son, the heir
presumptive to the throne, unprovided for.
[10] Table. See next page.
Eleven days after her birth the Princess was baptised at Leicester
House by Dr. Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, and given the names of Caroline
Matilda, the first being after her grandmother, the second harking
back to our Norman queens. Except in official documents she was always
known by the latter name, and it is the one therefore that will be
used in speaking of her throughout this book. The infant had three
sponsors, her aunt the Princess Caroline (represented by proxy), her
eldest sister the Princess Augusta, and her eldest brother the Prince
of Wales. In the case of the godfather the sponsorship was no mere
form, for George III. stood in the light of guardian to his sister all
through her life.
TABLE SHOWING THE CHILDREN OF FREDERICK AND AUGUSTA, PRINCE AND
PRINCESS OF WALES, AND ALSO THE DESCENT OF HIS MAJESTY KING
EDWARD VII. FROM FREDERICK PRINCE OF WALES.
Frederick Prince of Wales = Augusta of Saxe-Gotha
(son of George II. and | (daughter of Frederick II.
Caroline of Ansbach). | Duke of Saxe-Gotha).
|
+---------------------------------+
|
+--Augusta, b. 1737, d. 1813, m. Charles William Duke of Brunswick,
| and had issue among others
| |
| Caroline, Consort of George IV., who had issue
| |
| Princess Charlotte, d. in childbirth, 1817.
|
+--George III., b. 1738, d. 1820, m. Charlotte Princess of
| Mecklenburg-Strelitz, and had issue among others
| |
| Edward Duke of Kent
| |
| Queen Victoria
| |
| King Edward VII.
|
+--Edward Duke of York, b. 1738, d. 1767, unmarried.
|
+--Elizabeth, b. 1739, d. 1759, unmarried.
|
+--William Henry Duke of Gloucester, b. 1743, d. 1805, m. Maria
| Countess Dowager Waldegrave, illegitimate dau. of Sir Edward
| Walpole, and had issue among others
| |
| William Frederick Duke of Gloucester, m. Mary, dau. of George
| III., no issue.
|
+--Henry Frederick Duke of Cumberland b. 1745, d. 1790, m. Anne,
| dau. of Lord Irnham, afterwards Earl of Carlhampton, and widow
| of Andrew Horton, no issue.
|
+--Louisa Anne, b. 1748, d. 1768, unmarried.
|
+--Frederick William, b. 1750, d. 1765, unmarried.
|
+--CAROLINE MATILDA, b. July 11, 1751, m. 1766, Christian VII., King
of Denmark, d. 1775, and had issue
|
Frederick VI., King of Denmark, d. 1839, and
Louise Augusta, Duchess of Augustenburg, d. 1843.
CHAPTER II.
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH.
1751-1760.
The early years of the Princess Matilda were passed at Carlton House
and Kew. After her husband's death the Princess-Dowager of Wales, as
she was called, resided for the most part in London at Carlton House.
She used Leicester House on state occasions, and kept it chiefly for
her two elder sons who lived there with their tutors. Carlton House
was a stately building fronting St. James's Park with an entrance in
Pall Mall. It was built by a Lord Carlton in the reign of Queen Anne,
and was sold in 1732 to Frederick Prince of Wales. The great feature
of Carlton House was its beautiful garden, which extended along the
Mall as far as Marlborough House, and was laid out on the same plan as
Pope's famous garden at Twickenham. There were smooth lawns, fine trees
and winding walks, and bowers, grottoes and statuary abounded. This
garden gave Carlton House a great advantage over Leicester House in the
matter of privacy, and was of benefit to the children.
Cliveden, near Maidenhead, and Park Place, Henley-on-Thames, two
country places, owned, or leased, by Frederick were given up, but the
Princess retained her favourite house at Kew, and sent her younger
children down there as much as possible. The greater part of Matilda's
childhood was spent there, and Kew and its gardens are more associated
with her memory than any other place in England. The Princess-Dowager
encouraged in all her children simplicity of living, love of fresh
air and healthy exercise. Each of the little princes and princesses
was allotted at Kew a small plot of ground wherein to dig and plant.
Gardening was Matilda's favourite amusement, and in one of the earliest
of her letters she writes to a girl friend:--
"Since you left Richmond I have much improved my little plot in our
garden at Kew, and have become quite proficient in my knowledge of
exotics. I often miss your company, not only for your lively chat, but
for your approbation of my horticultural embellishments.... You know we
[the royal children] have but a narrow circle of amusements, which we
can sometimes vary but never enlarge."[11]
[11] The authenticity of this letter is doubtful. It first appeared in
a work entitled _Memoirs of an Unfortunate Queen, interspersed with
letters written by Herself to several of her Illustrious Relatives
and Friends_, published 1776, soon after Matilda's death. Some of the
letters may be genuine, others are undoubtedly spurious.
The Princess was better educated than the majority of English ladies
of her time, many of whom could do little more than read and write
(but seldom could spell) with the addition of a few superficial
accomplishments. Matilda was a fair linguist, she could speak and
write French well, and had a smattering of Italian. Like her brothers
and sisters she committed to memory long passages from English
classics, and recited them with fluency and expression. She had a great
love of music, and played on the harpsichord, and sang in a sweet and
pleasing voice. She was thoroughly trained in "deportment," and danced
to perfection. She was a pretty, graceful girl, not awkward, even at
the most awkward age, and early gave promise of beauty. She rejoiced
in an affectionate, generous disposition and a bright and happy
temperament. She stood in awe of her mother, but she was devoted to her
brothers and sisters, especially to her eldest sister, Princess Augusta.
This Princess was the one who was suddenly hurried into the world on
a July night at St. James's Palace. She was fourteen years of age
when Matilda was born, and was a woman before her youngest sister
ceased to be a child, so that she stood to her in the place of friend
and counsellor. Augusta had not the beauty of Matilda, but she was
a comely maiden with regular features, well-shaped figure, pleasant
smile, and general animation. She was the best educated of the family.
This was largely due to her thirst for knowledge. She read widely,
and interested herself in the political and social questions of the
day to a degree unusual with princesses of her age. She was sharp and
quick-witted, and in her childhood precocious beyond her years. "La!
Sir Robert," she pertly exclaimed, when only seven years of age, to
Sir Robert Rich, whom she had mistaken for Sir Robert Walpole, "what
has become of your blue string and your big belly?" Sir "Blue-string"
was one of the Tory nicknames for Walpole, and in the caricatures
of the time his corpulence was an endless subject of ridicule. Her
parents, instead of reprimanding her, laughed at her pleasantries,
with the result that they often found her inconveniently frank and
troublesome. After Frederick's death her mother, who had no wish to
have a grown-up daughter too soon, kept her in the background as much
as possible, a treatment which the lively Augusta secretly resented.
Matilda's other sisters, the Princesses Elizabeth and Louisa Anne,
were nearer her in age and were much more tractable than Augusta.
They both suffered from ill-health. Her eldest brother George Prince
of Wales was a silent youth, shy and retiring, and not demonstrative
in any way. Edward, her second brother, afterwards Duke of York,
was livelier and was always a favourite with his sister. Her three
youngest brothers, William Henry, afterwards Duke of Gloucester, Henry
Frederick, later Duke of Cumberland, and Frederick William (who died at
the age of fifteen), were her chief playmates, for they were nearer her
in age. The children of Frederick Prince of Wales and Augusta had one
characteristic in common; clever or stupid, lively or dull, sickly or
strong in health, they were all affectionate and fond of one another.
Quarrels were rare, and the brothers and sisters united in loving and
spoiling the pet of the family, pretty, bright little Matilda.
For eighteen months after her husband's death the Princess-Dowager
of Wales remained in closest retirement. At the end of that time she
reappeared in public and attended court, where, by the King's command,
she received the same honours as had been paid to the late Queen
Caroline. She was also made guardian of her eldest son, in case of the
King's demise during the Prince of Wales' minority. William Duke of
Cumberland bitterly resented this appointment as a personal affront,
and declared to his friends that he now felt his own insignificance,
and wished the name of William could be blotted out of the English
annals. It increased his jealousy of his sister-in-law, and she, on her
part, made no secret of her inveterate dislike of him. Her children
were taught to regard their uncle as a monster because of his cruelties
at Culloden, and he complained to the Princess-Dowager of the "base and
villainous insinuations" which had poisoned their minds against him.
The Princess-Dowager of Wales rarely attended St. James's except on
ceremonial occasions. Nominally George II.'s court, for the last
twenty years of his reign, was presided over by the King's eldest
unmarried daughter, Princess Amelia, or Emily, a princess who, as
years went on, lost her good looks as well as her manners. She became
deaf and short-sighted, and was chiefly known for her sharp tongue
and her love of scandal and high play. She had no influence with the
King, and her unamiable characteristics made her unpopular with the
courtiers, who treated her as a person of no importance. In reality
the _dame regnante_ at St. James's was Madame de Walmoden, Countess
of Yarmouth, who had been the King's mistress at Hanover. He brought
her over to England the year after Queen Caroline's death, lodged her
in the palace, created her a peeress, and gave her a pension. In her
youth the Walmoden had been a great beauty, but as she advanced in
years she became exceedingly stout. Ministers, peers, politicians,
place-hunters of all kinds, even bishops and Church dignitaries, paid
their court to her. She accepted all this homage for what it was worth,
but though she now and then obtained a place for a favourite, she very
wisely abstained from meddling in English politics, which she did not
understand, and chiefly occupied herself in amassing wealth.
[Illustration: MADAME DE WALMODEN, COUNTESS OF YARMOUTH.
_From the Painting at Gülzow, by permission of Count Kielmansegg._]
Lady Yarmouth was the last instance of a mistress of the King of
England who received a peerage. Her title did not give her much
prestige, and her presence at court did not add to its lustre. During
her ten years' reign Queen Caroline had set an example of virtue and
decorum, which was not forgotten, and the presence of a recognised
mistress standing in her place was resented by many of the wives of the
high nobility. Some of these ladies abstained from going to St. James's
on principle, others, and these the more numerous, because the
assemblies there had become insufferably dull and tedious. If the court
had been conducted on the lavish scale which marked the reigns of the
Stuarts, if beauty, wit and brilliancy had met together, some slight
lapses from the strict path of virtue might have been overlooked. But a
court, which was at once vicious and dull, was impossible.
The Princess-Dowager of Wales, who prided herself on the propriety
of her conduct and the ordered regularity of her household, was the
most conspicuous absentee, and though she now and then attended St.
James's as in duty bound, she never took her daughters to court, but
declared that the society there would contaminate them. She rarely,
if ever, honoured the mansions of the nobility with a visit, and her
appearances in public were few and far between. She lived a life of
strict seclusion, which her children shared. During the ten years that
elapsed between Frederick's death and George III.'s accession to the
throne, the Princess-Dowager was little more than a name to the outer
world; the time had not come when the veil of privacy was to be rudely
torn from her domestic life, and the publicity from which she shrank
turned on her with its most pitiless glare.
The policy of the Princess was to keep in the background as much as
possible and devote herself wholly to the care and education of her
numerous family. She did her duty (or what she conceived to be her
duty) to her children to the utmost in her power, and in her stern,
undemonstrative way there is no doubt that she loved them. She ruled
her household with a rod of iron, her children feared and obeyed, but
it could hardly be said that they loved her. Despite her high sense of
duty, almsgiving and charity, the Princess-Dowager was not a lovable
woman. Her temperament was cold and austere, her religion was tinged
with puritanism, and her views were strict and narrow. She had many of
the virtues associated with the Roman matron. There was only one flaw
in the armour of the royal widow's reputation, and this her enemies
were quick to note. That flaw was her friendship with Lord Bute.
John, third Earl of Bute, had been a favourite of Frederick Prince of
Wales. He owed his introduction to the Prince to an accident which,
slight though it was, served to lay the foundations of his future
political career. He was watching a cricket match at Cliveden when
a heavy shower of rain came on. The Prince, who had been playing,
withdrew to a tent and proposed a game of whist until the weather
should clear. At first nobody could be found to take a fourth hand,
but presently one of the Prince's suite espied Bute and asked him
to complete the party. The Prince was so much pleased with his new
acquaintance that he invited him to Kew, and gave him a post in his
household. Bute soon improved his opportunities, and the Princess also
extended to him her confidence and friendship; perhaps she found in
his cold, proud temperament and narrow views some affinity with her
own character and beliefs. Frederick rather encouraged this friendship
than otherwise. He was very much attached to his excellent and virtuous
wife, but no doubt her serious way of looking at things wearied his
more frivolous nature occasionally. According to the scandalous gossip
of Horace Walpole: "Her simple husband when he took up the character
of the regent's gallantry had forced an air of intrigue even upon his
wife. When he affected to retire into gloomy _allées_ of Kew with Lady
Middlesex, he used to bid the Princess walk with Lord Bute. As soon
as the Prince was dead, they walked more and more, in honour of his
memory."[12]
[12] _Memoirs of George II._, vol. ii.; see also Wraxall's _Hist.
Memoirs_, vol. ii.
At the corrupt court of George II., where the correct conduct of the
Princess was resented as a tacit affront, the intimacy between the
Princess and Lord Bute was soon whispered into an intrigue. Once at a
fancy dress ball during the lifetime of Frederick when the Princess
was present, the beautiful Miss Chudleigh appeared as Iphigenia and so
lightly clad as to be almost in a state of nudity. The Princess threw a
shawl over the young lady's bosom, and sharply rebuked her for her bad
taste in appearing in so improper a guise. "_Altesse_," retorted Miss
Chudleigh, in no wise abashed, "_vous savez, chacun a son but_." The
impertinent witticism ran like wildfire round the court, and henceforth
the names of the Princess and Lord Bute were associated together in
a scandalous suggestion, which had nothing to warrant it at the time
beyond the fact that the Princess treated Lord Bute as an intimate
friend.
After Frederick's death the scandal grew, for the Princess was very
unpopular with the Walmoden and her circle, and they delighted to have
the chance of painting her as bad as themselves. Yet Bute was some
years older than the Princess. He was married to a beautiful wife, the
only daughter and heiress of Edward Wortley Montagu, by whom he had a
large family, and he was devoted to his wife and children. He was a man
of high principle, and lived a clean life in an age of uncleanness.
Lady Hervey writes of him: "He has always been a good husband, an
excellent father, a man of truth and sentiments above the common run
of men". Bute was not a great man, but his abilities were above the
average, and he possessed considerable force of character. He acquired
complete ascendency in the household of the Princess-Dowager, and
exercised unbounded influence over the young Prince of Wales. Princess
Augusta and Prince Edward disliked him, and secretly resented his
presence and his interference in family matters. The other children
were too young to understand, but Lord Bute was a factor which made
itself felt in the daily life of them all, and not a welcome one. Life
had become appreciably duller with the royal children since their
father's death. Gone were the little plays and masquerades, the singers
and dancers. Gone were the picnics and the children's parties. Even
the cards were stopped, and the utmost the Princess-Dowager would
allow was a modest game of comet. The children suspected Lord Bute of
aiding and abetting their mother in her Spartan treatment of them, and
disliked him accordingly.
The Princess-Dowager had need of a friend and counsellor, whether Lord
Bute was the wisest choice she could have made or not. She was quite
alone in the world, and had to fight against many intrigues. She was
not a woman to make friendships quickly, and she disliked the society
of her own sex. Thus it came about that in the secluded life she led,
except for the members of her household, two persons only were admitted
to Carlton House and Kew. One was Lord Bute, the other Bubb Dodington.
Bubb Dodington, whose diary we have quoted before, was a wealthy
_parvenu_ whose ambition in life was to become peer. Walpole had
refused him his coveted desire, and he therefore attached himself to
Frederick Prince of Wales, who borrowed money from him, and invented a
post in his household for his benefit. As far as it was possible for
Dodington to be attached to any one, he seems to have been attached to
his "Master," as he calls him. After Frederick's death, when, to use
his own phrase, "there was little prospect of his doing any good at
Leicester House," he again courted the favour of the government. But he
retained a sentimental attachment to his master's widow, or (for he was
a born intriguer) he wished to keep in touch with the young Prince of
Wales. In either case he was careful not to break off his friendship
with the Princess-Dowager, and often waited upon her at Carlton House.
The Princess, though she did not wholly trust him, clung to him as
a friend of her husband's. He was useful as a link with the outer
world, he could retail to her all the political gossip of the day, and
she, in turn, could make him the medium of her views, for she knew
what she told him in apparent confidence would be retailed to all the
town before the day was over. Dodington was an inveterate gossip, and
his vanity was too much flattered by being made the confidant of the
Princess-Dowager for him to conceal the fact. Moreover, he was wealthy,
and a shrewd man of business. The Princess sorely needed advice in
money matters, for her dower was only £50,000 a year, and out of that
sum she had to keep up Leicester House, Carlton House and Kew, educate
and maintain her numerous family, and to pay off by instalments her
husband's debts--a task which she voluntarily took upon herself, though
it crippled her financially for years. She did all so well that her
economy was a triumph of management.
From Dodington's diary we get glimpses of the domestic life of the
Princess-Dowager and her children after her husband's death. For
instance, he writes: "The Princess sent for me to attend her between
eight and nine o'clock. I went to Leicester House expecting a small
company, or little musick, but found nobody but her Royal Highness.
She made me draw a stool and sit by the fireside. Soon after came in
the Prince of Wales, and Prince Edward, and then the Lady Augusta, all
in an undress, and took their stools and sat round the fire with us. We
continued talking of familiar occurrences till between ten and eleven,
with the ease and unreservedness and unconstraint as if one had dropped
into a sister's house that had a family to pass the evening. It is much
to be wished that the Prince conversed familiarly with more people of a
certain knowledge of the world."[13]
[13] Dodington's _Diary_, Nov. 17, 1753, edition 1784.
This last point Dodington ventured to press upon the Princess more
than once, for it was a matter of general complaint that she kept
her children so strictly and so secluded from the world. They had
no companions or playmates of their own age besides themselves, for
the Princess declared that "the young people of quality were so
ill-educated and so very vicious that they frightened her.... Such was
the universal profligacy ... such the character and conduct of the
young people of distinction that she was really afraid to have them
near her children. She should be even in more pain for her daughters
than her sons, for the behaviour of the women was indecent, low, and
much against their own interests by making themselves so cheap."[14]
[14] Dodington's _Diary_, edition 1784.
We have dwelt thus on Augusta Princess of Wales not only because she
was the mother of Princess Matilda, but because so little is known of
her. The scandalous tales of Whig pamphleteers, and the ill-natured
gossip of her arch-maligner Horace Walpole cannot be accepted without
considerable reserve. No adequate memoir has ever been written of this
Princess. Yet she was the mother of a king whose reign was one of the
longest and most eventful in English history, and the training she gave
her eldest son moulded his character, formed his views and influenced
his policy. It influenced also, though in a lesser degree, the life of
her youngest daughter. Matilda inherited certain qualities from her
father, but in her early education and environment she owed everything
to her mother. To the strict seclusion in which she was brought up
by this stern mother, who won her children's respect but never their
confidence, and to her utter ignorance of the world and its temptations
(more particularly those likely to assail one destined to occupy an
exalted position), may be traced to some extent the mistakes of her
later years.
There were breaks in the children's circle at Carlton House and Kew.
Prince Frederick William died in 1765 at the age of fifteen, and
Princess Elizabeth in 1759 at the age of nineteen. Of the first nothing
is recorded, of the latter Horace Walpole quaintly writes: "We have
lost another princess, Lady Elizabeth. She died of an inflammation
in her bowels in two days. Her figure was so very unfortunate, that
it would have been difficult for her to be happy, but her parts and
application were extraordinary. I saw her act in _Cato_ at eight years
old when she could not stand alone, but was forced to lean against the
side scene. She had been so unhealthy, that at that age she had not
been taught to read, but had learned the part of _Lucia_ by hearing the
others studying their parts. She went to her father and mother, and
begged she might act; they put her off as gently as they could; she
desired leave to repeat her part, and, when she did, it was with so
much sense that there was no denying her."[15]
[15] Walpole's _Letters_, vol. iii., edition 1857.
The following year a life of much greater importance in the royal
family came to a close. George II. died at Kensington Palace on October
25, 1760, in the seventy-seventh year of his age, under circumstances
which have always been surrounded by a certain amount of mystery. The
version generally received is as follows: The King rose in the morning
at his usual hour, drank his chocolate, and retired to an adjoining
apartment. Presently his German valet heard a groan and the sound of a
heavy fall; he rushed into the room and found the King lying insensible
on the floor with the blood trickling from his forehead, where he had
struck himself against a bureau in falling. The valet ran to Lady
Yarmouth, but the mistress had some sense of the fitness of things, and
desired that the Princess Amelia should be sent for. She arrived to
find her father quite dead. His death was due to heart disease and was
instantaneous.
George II. was buried in Henry VII.'s Chapel, Westminster Abbey. His
last wishes were fulfilled to the letter. He had desired that one
of the sides of Queen Caroline's coffin (who had predeceased him by
twenty-three years) should be removed and the corresponding side of his
own coffin should be taken away, so that his body might lie side by
side with hers, and in death they should not be divided. This touching
injunction was piously carried out by command of his grandson, who now
succeeded him as King George III.
CHAPTER III.
THE BETROTHAL.
1760-1765.
The accession of George III. to the throne made at first little
difference in the lives of his brothers and sisters, especially of the
younger ones. It made a difference in their position, for they became
brothers and sisters of the reigning king, and the public interest
in them was quickened. But they remained under the control of the
Princess-Dowager, and continued to live with her in the seclusion of
Carlton House and Kew.
The Princess-Dowager's dominion was not confined to her younger
children, for she continued to exercise unbounded sway over the
youthful monarch. He held his accession council at her residence
at Carlton House, and there he delivered his first speech--not the
composition of his ministers, who imagined they saw in it the hand
of the Princess-Dowager and Lord Bute. "My Lord Bute," said the King
to the Duke of Newcastle, his Prime Minister, "is your very good
friend, he will tell you all my thoughts." Again in his first speech
to Parliament the King wrote with his own hand the words, to which we
have already alluded: "Born and educated in this country, I glory
in the name of Briton". Ministers affected to find in all this an
unconstitutional exercise of the royal prerogative, and the Whig
oligarchy trembled lest its domination should be overthrown.
Hitherto the influence of the Princess-Dowager with her eldest son,
and the intimate friendship that existed between her and Lord Bute,
had been known only to the few, but now the Whigs found in these
things weapons ready to their hands, and they did not scruple to use
them. They instigated their agents in the press and in Parliament,
and a fierce clamour was raised against the Princess as a threatener
of popular liberties. Her name, linked with Lord Bute's, was flung
to the mob; placards with the words "No Petticoat Government!" "No
Scottish Favourite!" were affixed to the walls of Westminster Hall, and
thousands of vile pamphlets and indecent ballads were circulated among
the populace. Even the King was insulted. "Like a new Sultan," wrote
Lord Chesterfield, "he is dragged out of the seraglio by the Princess
and Lord Bute, and placed upon the throne." The mob translated this
into the vulgar tongue, and one day, when the King was going in a sedan
chair to pay his usual visit to his mother, a voice from the crowd
asked him, amid shouts and jeers, whether he was "going to suck".
[Illustration: JOHN, EARL OF BUTE.
_From the Painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds at Wortley Hall, by
permission of the Earl of Wharncliffe._]
The Princess-Dowager was unmoved by the popular clamour, and her
influence over the young King remained unshaken; indeed it was
rather strengthened, for his sense of chivalry was roused by the
coarse insults heaped upon his mother. Lord Bute continued to pay his
visits to Carlton House as before, the only difference made was that,
to avoid the insults of the mob, his visits were paid less openly. The
chair of one of the Princess's maids of honour was often sent of an
evening to Bute's house in South Audley Street, and he was conveyed in
it, with the curtains close drawn, to Carlton House, and admitted by
a side entrance to the Princess's presence. These precautions, though
natural enough under the circumstances, were unwise, for before long
the stealthy visits leaked out, and the worst construction was placed
upon them.
In the first year of the King's reign the supremacy of the
Princess-Dowager was threatened by an attachment the monarch had formed
for the beautiful Lady Sarah Lennox, daughter of the second Duke of
Richmond. But the house of Lennox was a great Whig house, and its
members were ambitious and aspiring, therefore the Princess-Dowager
and Bute determined to prevent the marriage. That they succeeded
is a matter of history. Lady Sarah's hopes came to an end with
the announcement of the King's betrothal to Princess Charlotte of
Mecklenburg-Strelitz. The announcement was not popular, for the nation
was weary of royal alliances with the petty courts of Germany. But
the Princess-Dowager had made confidential inquiries. She was told
that Charlotte, who was very young, was dutiful and obedient, and no
doubt thought that she would prove a cipher in her hands. In this the
Princess-Dowager was sadly mistaken. Lady Sarah Lennox, or an earlier
candidate for the honour, a Princess of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel, would
have been pliable in comparison with Charlotte of Mecklenburg, who, on
her arrival, showed herself to be a shrewd, self-possessed young woman,
with a tart tongue, and a full sense of the importance of her position.
Charlotte soon became jealous of her mother-in-law's influence over the
King. Her relations with her sisters-in-law also were never cordial,
and with the Princess Augusta she was soon at open feud.
George III. and Charlotte were married at the Chapel Royal, St. James's
Palace, on September 8, 1761, and a fortnight later were crowned
in Westminster Abbey. The Princess Matilda, then ten years of age,
witnessed her brother's wedding, but unofficially, from a private pew.
Her first public appearance was made at the coronation, when we find
her following the Princess-Dowager in a procession from the House of
Lords to Westminster Abbey. A platform, carpeted with blue baize and
covered by an awning, had been erected across Palace Yard to the south
door of the Abbey, and over this platform the Princess-Dowager and all
her children passed, except the King, who was to be crowned, and Prince
Edward and Princess Augusta, who were in their Majesties' procession.
"The Princess-Dowager of Wales," it is written, "was led by the hand
by Prince William Henry, dressed in white and silver. Her train, which
was of silk, was cut short, and therefore not borne by any person, and
her hair flowed down her shoulders in hanging curls. She had no cap,
but only a circlet of diamonds. The rest of the princes and princesses,
her Highness's children, followed in order of their age: Prince Henry
Frederick, also in white and silver, handing his sister Princess Louisa
Anne, dressed in a slip with hanging sleeves. Prince Frederick William,
likewise in white and silver, handing his youngest sister, the Princess
Matilda, dressed also in a slip with hanging sleeves. Both the young
princesses had their hair combed upwards, which was contrived to lie
flat at the back of their heads in an elegant taste."[16]
[16] _The Annual Register_, September 22, 1761.
For some time after George III.'s marriage the Princess-Dowager and
Bute continued to be all-powerful with the King. The aged Prime
Minister, the Duke of Newcastle, clung to office as long as he could,
but at last was forced to resign, and in 1762 Lord Bute became Prime
Minister. The Princess-Dowager's hand was very visible throughout
Bute's brief administration; her enemy the Duke of Devonshire, "the
Prince of the Whigs," as she styled him, was ignominiously dismissed
from office, and his name struck off the list of privy councillors.
Other great Whig Lords, who had slighted or opposed her, were
treated in a similar manner. Peace was made with France on lines the
Princess-Dowager had indicated before her son came to the throne, and
a still greater triumph, the peace was approved by a large majority
in Parliament, despite the opposition of the Whig Lords. "Now," cried
the Princess exultingly, "now, my son _is_ King of England!" It was her
hour of triumph.
But though the Whigs were defeated in Parliament, they took their
revenge outside. The ignorant mob was told that the peace was the first
step towards despotism, the despotism of the Princess-Dowager and her
led-captain Bute, and the torrent of abuse swelled in volume. One
evening when the Princess was present at the play, at a performance
of Cibber's comedy, _The Careless Husband_, the whole house rose when
one of the actresses spoke the following lines: "Have a care, Madam,
an undeserving favourite has been the ruin of many a prince's empire".
The hoots and insults from the gallery were so great that the Princess
drew the curtains of her box and quitted the house. Nor was this all.
In Wilkes's periodical, _The North Briton_, appeared an essay in
which, under the suggestive names of Queen Isabella and her paramour
"the gentle Mortimer," the writer attacked the Princess-Dowager and
the Prime Minister. Again, in a caricature entitled "The Royal Dupe,"
the young King was depicted as sleeping in his mother's lap, while
Bute was stealing his sceptre, and Fox picking his pocket. In _Almon's
Political Register_ there appeared a gross frontispiece, in which
the Earl of Bute figured as secretly entering the bedchamber of the
Princess-Dowager; a widow's lozenge with the royal arms hung over
the bed, to enforce the identity. Worst of all, one night, when the
popular fury had been inflamed to its height, a noisy mob paraded
under the windows of Carlton House, carrying a gallows from which hung
a jack-boot and a petticoat which they afterwards burned (the first
a miserable pun on the name of John Earl of Bute, and the second to
signify the King's mother). The Princess-Dowager heard the uproar from
within and learned the cause from her frightened household. She alone
remained calm. "Poor deluded people, how I pity them," she said, "they
will know better some day."
What her children thought of all this is not precisely recorded, but
it would seem that the King stood alone among them in the sympathy
and support he gave to his mother. Prince Edward, Duke of York, and
the Princess Augusta were openly hostile to Lord Bute. Prince Edward
declared that he suffered "a thousand mortifications" because of him.
Prince William Henry, Duke of Gloucester, was sullenly resentful,
and even Prince Henry Frederick, Duke of Cumberland, made sarcastic
remarks. What Matilda thought there is no means of knowing; she was
too young to understand, but children are quick-witted, and since her
favourite brother, Edward, and her favourite sister, Augusta, felt so
strongly on the subject, she probably shared their prejudices. There is
little doubt that the mysterious intimacy between the Princess-Dowager
and Lord Bute was the cause of much ill-feeling between her and her
children, and had the effect of weakening her authority over them
and of losing their respect. Years after, when she had occasion to
remonstrate with Matilda, her daughter retorted with a bitter allusion
to Lord Bute.
The Princess Augusta had inherited her mother's love of dabbling in
politics, and as her views were strongly opposed to those of the
Princess-Dowager the result did not conduce to the domestic harmony
of Carlton House. The Princess Augusta, of all the royal children,
had suffered most from the intimacy between her mother and Lord
Bute. Horace Walpole wrote of her some time before: "Lady Augusta,
now a woman grown, was, to facilitate some privacy for the Princess,
dismissed from supping with her mother, and sent back to cheese-cakes
with her little sister Elizabeth, on the pretence that meat at
night would fatten her too much".[17] Augusta secretly resented the
cheese-cakes, but she was then too young to show open mutiny. Now
that she had grown older she became bolder. She was the King's eldest
sister, and felt that she was entitled to a mind of her own. Therefore,
with her brother, the Duke of York, she openly denounced Lord Bute and
all his works, and lavished admiration on his great rival, Pitt. This
was a little too much for the Princess-Dowager, who feared that Augusta
would contaminate the minds of her younger brothers and sisters.
She resolved therefore to marry her to some foreign husband, and
thus remove her from the sphere of her present political activities.
Moreover, it was quite time that Augusta was married. She had completed
her twenty-sixth year and her youthful beauty was on the wane. "Lady
Augusta," writes Horace Walpole, "is not handsome, but tall enough
and not ill-made, with the German whiteness of hair and complexion so
remarkable in the royal family, and with their precipitate yet thick
Westphalian accent."[18]
[17] _Memoirs of the Reign of George III._, vol. iii.
[18] _Ibid._
Augusta might have married before, but she was extremely English in
her tastes, and had a great objection to leaving the land of her
birth. Neither her mother nor her brother would entertain the idea
of an English alliance, and so at last they arranged a marriage
between her and Charles William Ferdinand, Hereditary Prince of
Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel, a famous soldier, and the favourite nephew of
Frederick the Great. The Prince arrived in England in January, 1764.
He had never seen his bride before he came, not even her portrait,
but when he saw her he expressed himself charmed, adding that if he
had not been pleased with her he should have returned to Brunswick
without a wife. Augusta, equally frank, said that she would certainly
have refused to marry him if she had found him unsatisfactory. They
were married in the great council chamber of St. James's Palace with
little ceremony. The bride's presents were few and meagre, and Augusta
declared that Queen Charlotte even grudged her the diamonds which
formed the King's wedding gift. Four days after the marriage a civic
deputation waited upon the pair at Leicester House, and presented an
address of congratulation. Princess Matilda was present, and stood at
the right hand of her mother.
The King did not like the popularity of his brother-in-law, and
therefore hurried the departure of the newly wed couple. The Princess
of Brunswick shed bitter tears on leaving her native land. The day she
left she spent the whole morning at Leicester House saying good-bye
to her friends, and frequently appeared at the windows that the
people outside might see her. More than once the Princess threw open
the window and kissed her hand to the crowd. It was very tempestuous
weather when the Prince and Princess set out on their long journey to
Brunswick, and after they had put to sea rumours reached London that
their yacht had gone down in the storm; but, though they were for a
time in great danger, eventually they landed and reached Brunswick
safely.
The marriage of the Princess Augusta was soon followed by the betrothal
of her youngest sister. The Princess Matilda was only in her thirteenth
year. But though too young to be married, her mother and the King,
her brother, did not think it too soon to make arrangements for her
betrothal.
The reigning King of Denmark and Norway, Frederick V., for some years
had wished to bind more closely the ties which already existed between
him and the English royal family. The late Queen of Denmark, Queen
Louise, was the youngest daughter of King George II. She had married
Frederick V., and had borne him a son and daughters. After her death
the King of Denmark cherished an affectionate remembrance of his Queen
and a liking for the country whence she came. He therefore approached
the old King, George II., with the suggestion of a marriage in the
years to come between his son, the Crown Prince Christian, then an
infant, and one of the daughters of Frederick Prince of Wales. After
George II.'s death the idea of this alliance was again broached to
George III. through the medium of Titley,[19] the English envoy at
Copenhagen.
[19] Walter Titley, whose name occurs frequently in the negotiations
of this marriage, was born in 1700 of a Staffordshire family. He was
educated at Westminster and Trinity College, Cambridge, where he took
a distinguished degree. He entered the diplomatic service in 1728
and became _chargé d'affaires_ at Copenhagen in the absence of Lord
Glenorchy. In 1730 he was appointed Envoy Extraordinary and Minister
Plenipotentiary. In 1733 Richard Bentley, the famous master of Trinity
College, Cambridge, offered him the physic fellowship of the College.
Titley accepted it, resigned his diplomatic appointment, but found
that he had become so much attached to his life at Copenhagen that he
was unable to leave it. The King of Denmark, with whom he was a great
favourite, urged him to stay, and the Government at home were unwilling
to lose a valuable public servant who possessed a unique knowledge of
the tortuous politics of the northern kingdom. So Titley resumed his
post and held it for the remainder of his life. He died at Copenhagen
in February, 1768.
The King, after consultation with his mother, put forward his second
surviving sister, the Princess Louisa Anne (who was about the same age
as the Crown Prince Christian), as a suitable bride. But Bothmar,
the Danish envoy in London, reported to the court of Copenhagen that
Louisa Anne, though talented and amiable, was very delicate, and he
suggested that the King of Denmark should ask for the Princess Matilda
instead. This Princess was the beauty of the family, and her lively
disposition and love of outdoor exercise seemed to show that she had a
strong constitution. George III. demurred a little at first, on account
of his sister's extreme youth, but after some _pour-parlers_ he gave
his consent, and the King of Denmark sent orders to Bothmar to demand
formally the hand of the Princess Matilda in marriage for his son the
Crown Prince. At the same time Bernstorff, the Danish Secretary of
State for Foreign Affairs,[20] wrote to Titley, acquainting him with
the proposed alliance, but asking him to keep the matter a profound
secret until all preliminaries were arranged.[21]
[20] Count Johan Hartvig Ernst Bernstorff was a Hanoverian by birth,
and a grandson of Bernstorff of Hanover and Celle, Minister of George
I. He early entered the service of Denmark, and represented his adopted
country as envoy at the courts of St. James's and Versailles. When he
left the diplomatic service he became Minister of State for Foreign
Affairs at Copenhagen, and filled other important posts. Finally he
became Count and Prime Minister. He must not be confounded with Count
Andreas Peter Bernstorff, his nephew, who was later Prime Minister of
Denmark under Frederick VI.
[21] Sa Majesté, qui se souvient toujours avec plaisir et avec la
bienveillance la plus distinguée, de vos sentiments pour sa personne,
et pour l'union des deux familles royales, m'a commandé de vous faire
cette confidence; mais elle m'ordonne en même temps de vous prier de
la tenir entièrement secrète, jusqu'a ce qu'on soit convenu de part et
d'autre de l'engagement et de sa publication. (Bernstorff to Titley,
August 18, 1764.)
A few days later Titley wrote home to Lord Sandwich: "I received from
Baron Bernstorff (by the King of Denmark's command) a very obliging
letter acquainting me with the agreeable and important commission which
had been sent that same day to Count Bothmar in London.... The amiable
character of the Prince of Denmark is universally acknowledged here, so
that the union appearing perfectly suitable, and equally desirable on
both sides, I hope soon to have an opportunity of congratulating you,
my Lord, upon its being unalterably fixed and settled."[22]
[22] Titley's despatch to Lord Sandwich, Copenhagen, August 29, 1764.
Within the next few months everything was arranged except the question
of the Princess's dower, which had to be voted by Parliament. In the
meantime a preliminary treaty between the King of Denmark and the King
of Great Britain was drafted and signed in London by Lord Sandwich on
the one part and Bothmar on the other. This was in the autumn, when
Parliament was not sitting, but the Danish Government stipulated that
the announcement of the marriage was not to be delayed beyond the next
session of Parliament, though the marriage itself, on account of the
extreme youth of both parties, would be deferred for a few years.
Accordingly, at the opening of Parliament on January 10, 1765, George
III. in his speech from the throne said:--
"I have now the satisfaction to inform you that I have agreed with my
good brother the King of Denmark to cement the union which has long
subsisted between the two crowns by the marriage of the Prince Royal of
Denmark with my sister the Princess Caroline Matilda, which is to be
solemnised as soon as their respective ages will admit".
In the address to the throne Parliament replied to the effect that
the proposed marriage was most pleasing to them, as it would tend to
strengthen the ancient alliance between the crowns of Great Britain and
Denmark, and "thereby add security to the Protestant religion".[23]
[23] Presumably the alliance would strengthen the Protestant religion
by weakening the influence of Roman Catholic France at Copenhagen. It
must be borne in mind that Denmark was then a much larger and more
important country than it is now. Norway had not broken away from the
union, and Denmark had not been robbed of the Duchies of Schleswig and
Holstein by Prussia.
On January 18 the King gave a grand ball at St. James's Palace in
honour of the double event of his youngest sister's betrothal and Queen
Charlotte's birthday. On this occasion the Princess Matilda made her
first appearance at court, when she opened the ball by dancing a minuet
with her brother, Prince Edward Duke of York. The Princess was then
only thirteen and a half years old, but she won the admiration of all
the court by her beauty and grace. She was very fair, with hair almost
flaxen in hue, pale gold with a gleam of silver in it, large tender
blue eyes, an arched nose, a well-shaped mouth (the underlip perhaps a
little too full), and a complexion like the wild rose. Her figure was
shapely and developed beyond her years, and she carried herself with
ease and dignity.
The feelings of the Princess Matilda, who was thus betrothed to a
Prince whom she had never seen, were not consulted in the slightest
degree. The proposed marriage seemed a suitable one; and it was more
brilliant than that of her sister, the Princess Augusta; moreover, it
would strengthen the political alliance between England and Denmark,
and, it was hoped, give England more influence in the Baltic. These
considerations were sufficient for her brother, George III., who must
be held directly responsible for this marriage. The question of his
sister's happiness, or unhappiness, did not enter. The child Princess
disliked the idea from the first; her ladies-in-waiting noticed that
so far from showing any pleasure at her added dignity she became
pensive and melancholy. She was too young to realise all this marriage
would mean to her, but she knew that it would involve exile from her
native country, and separation from her family, and she grieved much
in secret, though afraid to show her unhappiness openly. She gave some
hint of her feelings to her aunt, the Princess Amelia, soon after her
betrothal.
The Princess Amelia often went to Bath, then a very gay place, where
she played cards and talked scandal to her heart's content. She had a
great liking for her little niece, and she asked permission to take her
to Bath on one of these visits for a few weeks. Matilda, weary of the
dulness and seclusion of Carlton House, pleaded hard to go, but the
Princess-Dowager would not hear of it. She disliked her sister-in-law
and disapproved of her card-playing proclivities. Matilda was greatly
disappointed at her mother's refusal, and said that she had been
looking forward to the journey, for she loved to travel. The Princess
Amelia tried to cheer her niece, and remarked jocularly: "It will not
be long before you will have plenty of travelling". "I know what you
mean," said Matilda, "but surely it would be happier for me to stay
where I am, than go so far for a Prince I have never seen."
[Illustration: THE ELDER CHILDREN OF FREDERICK AND AUGUSTA, PRINCE AND
PRINCESS OF WALES, PLAYING IN KEW GARDENS.
_From a Painting, temp. 1750._]
The Princess found consolation in the thought that her dreaded
marriage would not take place for some time (it was to be deferred
for two years, until 1767), and in a few months after her betrothal
she recovered her spirits, and interested herself once more in her
gardening and other simple pleasures, and in little acts of beneficence
to the poor families whom she took under her especial protection at
Kew. She pursued her studies diligently, the better to qualify herself
for the high position she was intended to fill. At the suggestion of
the King of Denmark, she began to learn German, the language then most
spoken at the Danish court.[24] It is characteristic of the English
tendencies of Frederick Prince of Wales, that, though both he and his
wife were born in Germany, not one of their children was taught
German as a necessary part of his, or her, education, and several of
them remained ignorant of it.
[24] Letter of the Duke of Grafton to Titley, St. James's, March 14,
1766.
We must now give some account of the Princess Matilda's betrothed
husband, the Crown Prince Christian, and of the court of Denmark.
CHAPTER IV.
THE TRAINING OF A KING.
1749-1766.
The Crown Prince Christian (afterwards Christian VII. of Denmark and
Norway) was born on January 29, 1749, and was therefore two years and
six months older than his first cousin and betrothed bride, Princess
Matilda.
When he was in his third year Christian lost his mother, Louise,
daughter of George II. of England and consort of Frederick V. of
Denmark. Queen Louise was very beautiful, and had inherited from
her mother, Queen Caroline, her grace and dignity and her virtues
and talents. She was possessed of great tact, and won the love and
reverence of all classes, and, what was more difficult, of all races
of her husband's subjects, whether Danes, Norwegians or Germans. The
Danes compared her to their sainted Dagmar, and her early death was
regarded as a national calamity. During Louise's illness the streets of
Copenhagen were thronged from early dawn by people waiting for news,
and the churches were filled with praying and weeping men and women.
Every night, outside the palace gate, crowds waited patiently for
hours, their faces, white in the darkness, turned towards the wing of
the palace where the Queen lay dying. Louise died in 1751 (the year
that Caroline Matilda was born), and left behind her the legacy of a
bright example. The Danes owed England a debt of gratitude for sending
them this admirable princess, a debt they amply repaid a century later
when they gave to the English people a descendant of Queen Louise,
a princess even more beautiful and beloved than her illustrious
ancestress--our gracious Queen Alexandra.[25]
[25] A short table showing the descent of Her Majesty Queen Alexandra
from Queen Louise of Denmark:--
Louise daughter of George II. of England and Queen of Frederick V.
of Denmark.
|
Charlotte Princess of Denmark.
|
Caroline Princess of Denmark.
|
Christian IX. King of Denmark.
|
Queen Alexandra.
King Frederick was overwhelmed with grief at his consort's death and
refused to be comforted. He could not mention her name without weeping;
he commanded the deepest court mourning for a year and prohibited
all public amusements for the same period. Yet, like many bereaved
widowers, before and since, the more deeply this royal widower mourned
his wife, the more quickly he sought consolation by giving her a
successor. Six months of the stipulated mourning had scarcely passed
when the King cast off his sables and wedded Princess Juliana Maria
of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel. This princess was the youngest of six
daughters, two of whom had already made great alliances. The eldest
was married to Frederick the Great, and the second to Prince Augustus
William, the heir presumptive to the throne of Prussia. One of her
nieces came near to be married to George III., but was rejected by
him on the advice of his mother. This slight upon her house did not
tend to make Juliana Maria well disposed towards the English royal
family; and the love of the Danes for the English princess who was her
predecessor contrasted vividly with her own unpopularity. Juliana Maria
was a handsome and determined woman, rigidly correct in her conduct and
unblemished in her morals, but she was of a cold and selfish nature,
a profound intriguer and dissembler. Frederick V. married her from a
sense of duty; he wanted a queen to preside over his court, and a wife
to give him another son. Juliana Maria fulfilled both these conditions;
she looked every inch a queen, and in due time presented her husband
with a prince, who was named Frederick. But though she shared her
husband's throne she had no place in his affections.
Frederick V. was popular with his subjects, who named him "Frederick
the Good". The first part of his reign as fully justified this title
as the latter part belied it. Queen Louise was his good angel and
led him to higher things, but when her beneficent influence was gone
he abandoned himself to evil habits, especially to his besetting one
of drunkenness. So much did he give way to this vice that he became
a confirmed dipsomaniac, and the reins of government passed out of
his hands into those of his Prime Minister, Count Moltke, and of his
mother, the Queen-Dowager, Sophia Magdalena.
This princess, the widow of Christian VI.,[26] was a daughter of
the Margrave of Brandenburg-Culmbach. She had obtained considerable
political influence in her husband's lifetime, and she continued to
hold it throughout the reign of her son. She was a woman of narrow and
strict views, but had a great love of display. Between her and Moltke
an alliance existed for a time. They played into one another's hands
so cleverly that Juliana Maria, despite her ambitious and intriguing
disposition, found herself outwitted by her mother-in-law and the Prime
Minister. Sophia Magdalena's superior knowledge of Danish affairs gave
her an advantage over Juliana Maria, who, though the King's wife,
laboured under the disability of not being in the King's confidence.
Count Moltke was not a minister of great ability, and he was suspected
of selling his country's interests to other powers. Certain it is that
during the last years of Frederick V.'s reign the foreign envoys of
France, Russia and England were in turns the real rulers of Denmark.
With Moltke the French influence was generally paramount.
[26] Christian VI., the son of Frederick IV., was born in 1699,
ascended the throne in 1730 and died in 1746, after a peaceful and
prosperous reign. He was succeeded by his son Frederick V.
The Crown Prince Christian suffered an irreparable loss in his mother's
death, for she was devoted to her son and kept him with her as much as
possible, though this was contrary to the traditional etiquette of the
Danish court. After Queen Louise died the Crown Prince and his sisters
were handed over to the loveless care of governesses and tutors, and
their father never troubled about them. Juliana Maria was not an
affectionate stepmother, and left her husband's children severely
alone. Even if she had wished to give them personal supervision, the
etiquette of the Danish court would have prevented her. Moreover, any
movement she might have made in that direction would have been regarded
with suspicion. Juliana Maria regarded the Crown Prince Christian as
an obstacle in the path of her ambition. If he were out of the way her
son Frederick would succeed to the throne. She probably wished him
out of the way, but the stories that she plotted against the life of
her stepson rest on no trustworthy evidence, and may be dismissed as
unworthy of credence.
At the age of six Christian was taken out of the nursery and given an
establishment of his own. Count Berkentin, a privy councillor, was
appointed his governor, and Count Reventlow his chamberlain and tutor.
Berkentin was an old man, indolent and easy-going, who was glad to
shift the responsibility of his troublesome charge on other shoulders,
and asked for nothing more than to draw his salary and be left in
peace. The training of the Crown Prince therefore devolved wholly on
Reventlow, who was a Danish noble of the most reactionary and barbarous
type. Reventlow's one idea of education was to harden the lad, to
make, as he said, a man of him--he might rather have said to make a
brute of him. He took no account of the idiosyncrasies of Christian's
character, or of his nervous, highly strung temperament. He sought to
crush him down to one low level, the level of himself. The boy was
brought up in slave-like fear of his brutal master, and sometimes
beaten for trifling errors so inhumanly that foam gathered on his lips
and he writhed in agony. Even in his boyhood, Christian's nervous
paroxysms sometimes degenerated into fits of an epileptic nature, and
so encouraged the growth of a terrible malady.
Reventlow superintended the Crown Prince's education, that is to say,
his training and his daily life. He did not teach him his lessons.
The learned German author, Gellert, was first asked to undertake this
duty, but he refused. The King then appointed one Nielsen, who had
been tutor to several of the young Danish nobility. Nielsen was a
very learned man, but unfortunately had not the capacity of imparting
his learning in a lucid and attractive manner, and he was too fond of
abstruse speculations to teach things which would be useful to the
royal pupil. Nielsen was a Lutheran clergyman, but he was notoriously
unorthodox, and he mixed his religious instruction with a good deal
of profane philosophy. The poor little prince was not old enough to
understand theological, or philosophical, disquisitions; they weighed
like a nightmare on his youthful mind, and the result of this teaching
in after life was a curious mixture of freethinking and superstition.
The Crown Prince was taken to church twice every Sunday, where he sat
between his two tormentors, Reventlow and Nielsen, and listened to
dull and interminable sermons. If his attention flagged for a moment
Reventlow would pinch him, and when he came out of church Nielsen would
catechise him concerning the sermon, and make him repeat the preacher's
arguments at length. Christian regarded these religious exercises with
intense dislike, and dreaded Sunday as his chief day of torment.
In the Crown Prince's hours of recreation he was neglected, and allowed
to keep bad company. His chief companions were two youths employed
about the court; one was Sperling, a page of the chamber and a nephew
of Reventlow; the other was Kirschoff, a servant of the chamber, and a
friend of Sperling. Both these youths were vicious and corrupt. They
were older than the Crown Prince and acquired great influence over him.
They set him a bad example by their evil habits, they poisoned his
mind by retailing all the scandals of the court, and they corrupted
his heart by mocking at everything good and noble. It has been well
said that they occupy the same place in the history of Denmark as Louis
XV.'s infamous servants Bachelier and Le Bel do in the history of
France.
It stands to Juliana Maria's credit that she objected to these youths
as playmates of the Prince and to Reventlow's system of education,
and remonstrated with the King, but Frederick V. would not listen
to her. Later Bernstorff made similar representations and with more
success, for when Christian was eleven years of age a change took place
for the better. A Swiss named Reverdil[27] was appointed to instruct
the Crown Prince in mathematics and French, and he gradually extended
his teaching to other branches of learning. Reverdil was an upright
man, and did his duty according to his lights. He saw clearly that
the boy's physical and mental health was being ruined by Reventlow's
barbarous methods, and did what he could to improve things. But well
meaning though he was he made his pupil's life unhappier by introducing
a new torture in the form of public examinations. The Crown Prince
was examined twice yearly in the knight's hall of the Christiansborg
Palace[28] in the presence of the King, the Ministers, and the
_corps diplomatique_, and if we may judge from the courtly reports
of the foreign envoys he acquitted himself well. Yet, this testimony
notwithstanding, it is certain that he was not well educated, for he
was ignorant of solid acquirements. But he could dance a minuet with
much grace and could play the flute, sing, ride and fence well. He was
a fair linguist and spoke German and French. More important still he
was taught the Danish language, which had been neglected at the Danish
court, and the household of the Prince, except his French and German
tutors, were forbidden to speak to him in other language but Danish.
[27] Reverdil was born in 1732 in the Canton of Vaud, and educated at
the University of Geneva. He became professor of mathematics at the
University of Copenhagen in 1758, and two years later was appointed
assistant tutor to the Crown Prince Christian. He has left a record of
his experiences at the Danish court in a book entitled _Struensee et la
cour de Copenhague 1760-1772, Mémoires de Reverdil_. To this work I am
indebted for much valuable information.
[28] The Christiansborg Palace, situated on an island in the heart of
Copenhagen, was originally erected by Christian VI. in 1733-40. It
was a magnificent building both externally and internally, and for
five reigns was the principal palace of the Kings of Denmark. It was
partially burned down in 1794, but rebuilt. It was again gutted by
fire in 1884; but the walls are still standing. The palace could be
restored to its pristine splendour, and it is a reproach that this
residence, so rich in historic associations, has not been rebuilt. A
bill is occasionally introduced for the Danish parliament to grant the
necessary funds, but it has hitherto been defeated by the democratic
party on the ground that the King is well housed in his palace of the
Amalienborg, which, in point of fact, is much too small to be the chief
royal palace of the capital.
The Crown Prince was precocious in some things and backward in others.
He was naturally quick-witted and had a gift of sarcasm and mimicry in
which he freely indulged; he made buffoon parodies of the preachers and
their sermons, and he mimicked ministers of state, high court officials
and even the august royal family. Some of his boyish sarcasms show
that he felt the cruel way in which he was treated and the subordinate
position in which he was kept. For instance, Frederick V., in one of
his generous moods (probably after a hard spell of drinking), made
Moltke a present of the palace of Hirschholm and all its contents. It
was a common ground of complaint that Moltke took advantage of his
master's weakness to enrich himself. The Crown Prince, hearing of this
princely gift, waylaid Moltke coming from the audience chamber of the
King, and thrust into his hand a picture of Hirschholm.[29] "Content
yourself with this, your Excellency," said the Prince, "for, believe
me, unless you get the crown as well, Hirschholm will never be yours."
The Prime Minister, taken aback at this display of authority on the
part of the heir apparent, wisely forebore to press the matter further,
and Hirschholm remained the property of the crown. On another occasion,
when the King and his favourite minister were drinking together, the
Crown Prince was present. The King commanded Christian to fill glasses
for himself and Moltke. Christian hesitated. The King repeated his
order, and told him that he could fill his own glass as well. The
Prince then filled Moltke's glass to the brim, the King's glass half
full, and into his own he poured only a few drops. "What do you mean by
this?" said the King. "I mean, sire," replied his son, "to denote our
relative importance in the state. His Excellency being all-powerful I
have filled his glass to the full. You being only second in authority
I half filled yours; as for me, since I am of no consequence, a drop
suffices."
[29] It is possible that his grandmother Sophia Magdalena may have
instigated him to do this, as Hirschholm was her favourite palace.
Despite his precocity, Christian had some extraordinary crazes and
superstitions. One of them he cherished from the nursery. His Norwegian
nurse had told him many legends of Scandinavian Vikings whose physical
perfections rivalled the gods, mighty warriors who were invulnerable
in battle, like the legendary heroes of ancient wars. At this time
there was a very widespread belief in northern Europe in a foolish
superstition called the "Art of Passau," a secret charm which made men
hard and invulnerable in battle. The young Crown Prince's imagination
was fired by it, and he determined to acquire the secret of the charm
and so attain his ideal of supreme physical perfection. Gradually
he came to believe that he had found it, and soon the hallucination
extended to his thinking that he was also endowed with superhuman
mental attributes, and he saw himself a mightier ruler and warrior than
Peter the Great or Frederick the Great, and a greater philosopher than
Leibniz or Voltaire. The fulsome despatches of Cosby, the assistant
English envoy,[30] would almost seem to warrant this preposterous
belief, for he describes the Crown Prince in the most extravagant terms.
[30] In 1763 the envoy, Titley, on the ground of age and infirmity,
was granted an assistant, and the British Government sent Cosby to
Copenhagen, and he virtually took over the whole business of the
legation, Titley only intervening in domestic matters connected
with the royal families of England and Denmark. Cosby conducted the
diplomatic business until his recall in 1765. He suddenly went insane.
[Illustration: QUEEN LOUISE, CONSORT OF FREDERICK V. OF DENMARK AND
DAUGHTER OF GEORGE II. OF ENGLAND.
_From a Painting by Pilo in the Frederiksborg Palace._]
"I had yesterday," he writes, "the honour of an audience with
the Prince Royal, and was greatly charmed with the graceful and
affectionate manner in which his Royal Highness received and answered
the compliment I had the honour to make him on the part of the King
[George III.].[31] This young Prince already promises everything that
the most sanguine hopes of this nation can expect. To an amiable and
manly countenance, a graceful and distinguishing figure, he joins an
address full of dignity, and at the same time extremely affable. But
what struck me most was the great resemblance of his Royal Highness,
both in person and manner, to the King [George III.] when his Majesty
was of the age the Prince now is [sixteen]. The likeness is in truth so
striking that it seems rather that of a royal brother than of a Prince
more distantly related [a first cousin] to his Majesty."[32]
[31] Wherever square brackets occur the matter is interpolated.
[32] Cosby's despatch, Copenhagen, March 27, 1764.
Soon after this exchange of compliments between George III. and his
cousin of Denmark the negotiations began which resulted in Christian's
betrothal to Matilda of England. The formal announcement was not made
at Copenhagen until January 18, 1765, when it was enthusiastically
received by the Danish people, who cherished a fond remembrance of
their last Queen from England--Queen Louise. Cosby writes: "The
intended nuptials of the Prince Royal with the Princess Matilda were
declared at court yesterday. There was a very brilliant ball and supper
at the royal table on this occasion, and the evening concluded with
illuminations, and every possible demonstration of joy from all ranks
of people."[33]
[33] Cosby's despatch, Copenhagen, January 19, 1765.
On Palm Sunday, 1765, Christian, who had now reached his seventeenth
year, and was already betrothed, was confirmed by the Bishop of
Copenhagen in the chapel of the Christiansborg Palace in the presence
of the King and royal family, the ministers, foreign envoys and all
the court. The occasion was one of much state and ceremonial, for
confirmation in Denmark was, and is, regarded as a very important rite,
and signifies the taking upon oneself the serious responsibilities
of life. The inevitable examination preceded the Crown Prince's
confirmation. Accounts differ as to how he acquitted himself under
this ordeal. Some said that when the Bishop examined the Prince he
discovered that he was well acquainted with Tindal but ignorant of
the Bible. On the other hand, the courtly Cosby writes: "He excited
the admiration of all present by his graceful delivery and thorough
knowledge of the subject of religion; ... the masterly ease and dignity
with which he expressed his sentiments as well as such promising
abilities had an effect on the whole audience".[34] And Titley wrote
later: "As the religious sentiments of a person brought up for absolute
sovereignty may deserve some attention, I have taken the liberty of
adding hereunto as close a translation as I could make of what the
Prince Royal declared at the late solemnity of his being confirmed.
This young Prince, who is of a very amiable genteel figure, discovers
the greatest humanity and goodness of disposition, and is also
distinguished by a most lively understanding which has been carefully
cultivated in a noble, rational way. The declaration is said to be
entirely his own, and I am the more apt to believe it, as having been
assured that he is particularly well grounded in the study of the law
of nature and in general theology."[35]
[34] Cosby's despatch, Copenhagen, April 2, 1765.
[35] Titley's despatch, Copenhagen, April 23, 1765.
The declaration was as follows:--
"I do acknowledge in the presence of God, in the presence of the King,
in the presence of this congregation, and of all those who have been my
instructors, that there is an eternal and unalterable law of nature;
from the obligation and force of which no man can be exempted by any
station, or dignity, or power upon earth. I am likewise fully convinced
that the right and true way to salvation is through faith in Jesus
Christ; and I profess it to be my steadfast purpose to live and die in
this belief.
"I am also sensible of the general and particular functions to which
God has called me; and which I will always endeavour, by the assistance
of the Divine grace, to fulfil. But as, from human weakness, I must be
continually in danger of falling, so I hope that God will strengthen
and support me, that I may not be entangled in the snares of Satan. And
therefore I am persuaded, that, not only the congregation here present,
but also the whole people of this country, will join their prayers with
mine, that I may be enabled to sustain the combat of faith to the end,
and persevere, without spot or blame, in the law prescribed to me, till
the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ."[36]
[36] "A declaration made by the Prince Royal of Denmark when he was
confirmed in the King's Chapel on Palm Sunday, March 31, 1765."
Though the betrothal of the Crown Prince to an English princess was
exceedingly popular with the Danish people, it was not universally so
in other and more exalted quarters. It was especially obnoxious to
France, and soon after Christian's confirmation an intrigue was set
afoot to break it off. The English envoy took fright lest the intrigue
should be successful, but his fears were groundless, for the alliance
had a firm friend in Frederick V., who, though weak on other points,
was firm as a rock on this one. Titley sought an audience of the King
of Denmark about this time and writes home:--
"His Danish Majesty received me in the most gracious manner as usual,
and told me he had now a picture of the Princess [Matilda] and was
extremely well pleased with it. That he had always highly approved
alliances of blood with the royal family of Great Britain, which he
hoped would in time produce close and perfect national union, and that
he heartily wished these family connections might still be repeated
and continued between the two courts through all posterity.... (_In
cipher_) In speaking of this marriage the King of Denmark could not but
remember his late Queen, whose behaviour he praised, and whose loss he
lamented with such an overflowing tenderness as filled his eyes with
tears, which he strove in vain to stifle, and often wiped away with his
handkerchief."[37]
[37] Titley's despatch, Copenhagen, June 4, 1765.
The picture to which the King of Denmark referred was a painting of
the Princess Matilda which had been sent from England to Copenhagen at
his express wish. The King declared himself delighted with the picture,
wherein he found many points of resemblance to his lamented Louise. We
find Titley writing again:--
"The picture of the Princess Matilda, having been put into a fine
frame by his Danish Majesty's order, was placed some days ago over the
toilet of the Prince Royal at Frederiksberg[38] unknown to his Royal
Highness. The Prince, as I am told, was equally surprised and delighted
to find it there, and after having surveyed it over and over with great
attention and inexpressible pleasure, declared his approbation and
satisfaction in terms of rapture. Yesterday being the birthday of the
Princess Matilda it was celebrated in a private manner by the royal
family at Fredensborg,[39] whither the Prince went two or three days
before on purpose to assist at the festivity."[40]
[38] The Frederiksberg Palace is situated in the western suburb of
Copenhagen. It must not be confounded with Frederiksborg, which is
some twenty miles from the capital, near the village of Hilleröd.
Frederiksberg was built by Frederick IV., about 1720-30, in the Italian
style. There is a fine view from the terrace. It is surrounded by a
well-timbered park, and the gardens contain many shady promenades. The
palace is now used as a military academy: the grounds are a favourite
resort of the citizens of Copenhagen.
[39] Fredensborg Slot (or castle) was built in 1720-24 in memory of
the recently concluded peace between Sweden and Denmark, and was known
as the "Castle of Peace". It is a plain unpretentious building, but
the gardens and park are beautiful, and reveal lovely views over the
blue lake of Esrom. The woods are extensive and the trees very fine.
Fredensborg is now used as the summer residence of the Danish royal
family. The family gatherings which have assembled within its walls
during the reign of Christian IX. have made Fredensborg famous over
Europe.
[40] Titley's despatch, Copenhagen, July 23, 1765.
Some few months after this pleasing incident the English match lost
its most powerful friend at the court of Copenhagen. On January 13,
1766, Frederick V. died, in the forty-third year of his age and the
twenty-first of his reign. His health for some time previously had been
going from bad to worse, and his malady, dropsy, was increased by his
habits of intemperance. Latterly his mind had become affected as well,
but before the end his brain cleared, and he called his son to his
bedside and said:--
"My dear son, you will soon be the King of a flourishing people, but
remember, that to be a great monarch it is absolutely necessary to be
a good man. Have justice and mercy, therefore, constantly before your
eyes, and above all things reflect that you were born for the welfare
of your people, and not your country created for your mere emolument.
In short, keep to the golden rule of doing as you would be done by, and
whenever you give an order as a sovereign examine how far you would be
willing to obey such an order were you a subject."[41]
[41] _Gentleman's Magazine_, February, 1766.
A few hours after Frederick V.'s death Bernstorff proclaimed the new
King to the people from the balcony of the Christiansborg Palace in
these words: "King Frederick V. is dead, but King Christian VII. lives.
The Crown Prince has become the ruler of the united kingdoms of
Denmark and Norway." Whereupon all the people shouted: "May the King
live long and reign well like his father!" Christian was then pleased
to show himself to his people, and was afterwards proclaimed throughout
the city by the heralds.
CHAPTER V.
"THE NORTHERN SCAMP."
1766.
Few monarchs ever began their reign with more ardent prayers of their
people, or inspired brighter hopes, than "Christian VII., by the
grace of God King of Denmark, Norway, of the Goths and Wends, Duke of
Schleswig-Holstein, Stormarn and the Dittmarsches, Count of Oldenburg
and Delmenhorst"--to quote his full style and titles. The young King
was regarded as the probable regenerator of Denmark. "The eminent
virtues and truly royal disposition of the new Sovereign afford a
very agreeable prospect of his future reign," writes Titley. Again:
"He is in all respects a very hopeful Prince, virtuously disposed,
with excellent natural parts, and solidity as well as vivacity of
understanding".[42] The envoy's views were echoed by all who came in
contact with the King.
[42] Titley's despatch, Copenhagen, January 18, 1766.
Christian VII. held his first council a few days after his father's
death and acquitted himself with tact and dignity. It was his
introduction to affairs of state, for though, according to the _Lex
Regia_ of Denmark, the heir apparent came of age when he reached the
age of fourteen, Christian had been kept quite ignorant of public
business. This was the more inexcusable as his father's failing health
made it likely that his accession would take place at any moment.
Christian VII. was seventeen years of age when the call came for him
to ascend the throne, and it found him utterly unprepared. To quote a
Swedish writer: "The young monarch exchanged the schoolroom and the
birch-rod for the throne and sceptre".
This policy of keeping the heir apparent in ignorance of the
constitution and government of the country was part of a set plan.
The Ministers wished to retain all power in their own hands, and they
viewed with alarm the possibility of a new ruler taking the initiative.
For the King of Denmark and Norway in those days was no mere puppet of
sovereignty. He was invested with absolute power, and was in theory, at
any rate, as much an autocrat as the Tsar of all the Russias. The late
King, from indolence and indifference, had let all the power drift into
the hands of his ministers, but there was no reason why Christian VII.
should do the same. The royal policy of _laissez-faire_ had not been so
successful in the last reign that the nation desired its continuance in
this. The trend of foreign policy under Moltke had been to sell Denmark
bound hand and foot to France. In home affairs, the army and navy had
drifted into a deplorable state of inefficiency, the national debt was
abnormally large, and the taxes burdensome. Many of the nobility were
disaffected and corrupt, the middle classes sullen and discontented,
and the peasants ground down to the level of beasts of burden.
Undoubtedly there was something rotten in the state of Denmark.
The young King at first made a laudable effort to do what he could.
"He begins, they say," wrote Titley, "to show a desire of becoming
thoroughly master of the state of his affairs, and it is not to be
doubted that he will soon make great progress in that knowledge, if
he takes right methods and his application is equal to his capacity."
Again: "Sensible people here begin to conceive great hopes of their
young Sovereign, and cannot enough admire his application to business,
and also the quickness and solidity of his understanding".[43] And
again: "With a great share of vivacity and youthful levity he yet
thinks very seriously and strives to make himself master of his
affairs, so far at least as not to be under the necessity of blindly
following the suggestions of anybody; ... he is unwilling to do
anything that he cannot understand or rationally approve".[44]
[43] Titley's despatch, Copenhagen, January 21, 1766.
[44] _Ibid._, March 14, 1766.
If this show of authority somewhat alarmed Moltke and his placemen,
the inexperienced King at first did nothing to displace them. For
the first few months of his reign Christian VII. ruled through a
triumvirate, composed of Moltke, Bernstorff and Reventlow. The
triumvirate, though they detested each other, united in an attempt
to discourage the King from governing. If Christian expressed an
opinion on any matter of state, they either raised difficulties, or
embarked on wearisome discussions. Baffled and discouraged at every
turn the young King resolved not to yield without a struggle to his
dictators. He knew that the affairs of the nation were in confusion,
and he asked a distinguished servant of the state, Count Frederick
Danneskjold-Samsöe,[45] to draw up for him an independent report of
the condition of the kingdom. Danneskjold-Samsöe performed his task
with alacrity, and painted an appalling picture of the distress of
the people, the corruption and mismanagement in the great spending
departments of the state, and the misgovernment of ministers. He
inveighed against the whole policy of the ministers, and especially
against that of Bernstorff, whom he regarded as chiefly responsible
for the marriage arranged between the King and the English Princess
Matilda. This marriage he boldly declared was displeasing to the
nation. But in this respect he met with no success; the King showed
no inclination to hurry into matrimony, but the betrothal remained
unaltered. So far as could be judged Christian inherited his father's
liking for England. "I am told," wrote the English envoy, "that he
has a predilection towards England. He often talks in private of the
British blood in his veins, and often intimates the satisfaction
it would give him to lead his army in person in the cause of Great
Britain."[46]
[45] Count Frederick Danneskjold-Samsöe was a grandson of Christian
V. The first Count was Christian V.'s son by Sophie Amalie, daughter
of Paul Mothe, an apothecary. His daughter by his first marriage,
Frederica Louise, married in 1720 Christian Augustus, Duke of
Holstein-Sondeburg-Augustenburg. This marriage played an important
part in the interminable Schleswig-Holstein question as affecting the
legitimacy of the Pretender. Christian, the late Duke of Augustenburg,
and his brother Prince Frederick, also married daughters of the
house of Danneskjold-Samsöe. The mother of Prince Christian of
Schleswig-Holstein was a Countess Danneskjold-Samsöe.
[46] Titley's despatch, Copenhagen, May 13, 1766.
Christian VII. acted so far on Danneskjold-Samsöe's report as to
dismiss his Prime Minister, Moltke, without a pension, and to strip him
of all his offices. He had always disliked Moltke, whom he considered
chiefly responsible for his having been kept in subjection and in
ignorance of public affairs during the late King's lifetime. Contrary
to expectation he did not treat Reventlow with the same severity. He
gave him titular honours, but quietly put him on one side. Bernstorff
triumphantly acquitted himself of the charges brought against him, and
rapidly advanced in the King's favour. He soon became the most powerful
minister in Denmark.
A firm friend of Bernstorff and of the English alliance was Prince
Charles of Hesse.[47] This Prince was Christian VII.'s first cousin,
and, like him, had an English mother--Princess Mary, daughter of
George II. This Princess married the Landgrave Frederick of Hesse, who
after his marriage became a Roman Catholic. His sons were then taken
away from his guardianship, and sent, for the greater security of their
Protestantism, to Copenhagen, where they grew up under the protection
of Frederick V. Prince Charles was much loved by King Frederick, who
betrothed him to his daughter the Princess Louise. Prince Charles was
good-looking, clever and high principled, but he was almost penniless,
and the proposed alliance was considered a poor one for the Danish
Princess. They, however, were very much in love with one another, and
Christian VII. approved of the betrothal quite as much as the late King.
[47] Prince Charles of Hesse, afterwards Landgrave, left behind him a
manuscript entitled _Mémoires de mon Temps_. After nearly a century it
was ordered to be printed by King Frederick VII. of Denmark for private
circulation. It is the authority for many passages in this book.
Prince Charles was at this time a great favourite with his royal
cousin, who often sought his advice. The young King had need of a
disinterested counsellor who was not afraid to speak, for before long
the bright hopes entertained concerning him began to fade. The tactics
of his ministers in seeking to blunt the edge of the King's interest
in state affairs had been only too successful. They wished him not to
interfere, or take the initiative in any way, but they wanted him to
be diligent in doing what they told him, and punctual in the discharge
of routine duties. But Christian VII. soon developed a distaste for
all work, and showed an inclination to shirk the most formal duty.
He rarely attended a council, and would leave the necessary papers
unsigned for days.[48]
[48] "The late ministry," wrote Gunning after the fall of Bernstorff's
Government in 1770, "are said to have neglected no means of presenting
all business to His Majesty's youthful eye through the terrifying
medium of labour and drudgery. They used many efforts (and at length
they succeeded) to inspire him with a thorough distaste for everything
but ease and dissipation, with the sole design of maintaining their own
power and consequence. They equally diverted his application from civil
or military business, the former with a view of managing it themselves,
the latter in order to prevent any great exertion of the natural power
of an arbitrary government, which without an army is a mere chimæra."
(Gunning's despatch, Copenhagen, April 4, 1771.)
[Illustration: KING CHRISTIAN VII.
_From the Painting by P. Wichman, 1766._]
In other ways, too, Christian showed signs of change, not for the
better. For a few months after his accession he spent his evenings
in the circle of the royal family, with his sisters and stepbrother,
the Hereditary Prince Frederick. He by turns visited the two
Dowager-Queens, Juliana Maria and Sophia Magdalena. Juliana Maria
treated him with great friendliness, and his grandmother, Sophia
Magdalena, was genuinely fond of him. But the company of the two
dowagers was not lively, and it was made worse by the stiff etiquette
that prevailed in their circles. It pleased the King's wayward humour
to outrage all these laws of etiquette, and even to descend to the
level of practical jokes, sheltering himself against retaliation by his
position. On one occasion he blew a cup of scalding tea into a lady's
face when she was in the act of drinking it; on another he exposed his
august grandmother to derision by powdering her hair with sugar. In
addition to the two Dowager-Queens there was another old princess
at the Danish court, the King's aunt, Charlotte Amelia, who lived only
for religious practices and charity. Even the halo of sanctity which
surrounded this royal spinster did not protect her from insult. She was
constantly tormented by the King and jeered at before the courtiers.
At first Charlotte Amelia treated this insolence as boyish fun, but at
last things became so bad that she withdrew from court. Her limit of
endurance was reached when one of the King's pages crawled under the
dining-table on all fours, disguised as a savage, and nearly frightened
her to death. She retired to the Amalienborg and could never be
persuaded to return to court. The King's practical joke cost him dear,
for the Princess Charlotte Amelia revoked her will, and left her large
fortune away from her nephew to the poor.
When he was weary of tormenting old ladies Christian VII. introduced
the custom of retiring to his own apartments after dinner, and there,
surrounded by a chosen circle of his intimates, he would lay aside his
kingly dignity and make merry with his friends. No doubt these evening
gatherings were in imitation of those of his exemplar, Frederick the
Great, where ceremonial and etiquette were banished and the Prussian
King and his friends engaged in intellectual conversation and social
enjoyment. Unfortunately for the parallel, Christian's clique consisted
of foolish and dissipated young courtiers, and their conversation
mainly turned upon current scandals, or _risqué_ French novels were
read and commented on. When in turn the King was wearied of these
diversions, he conceived the idea of prowling about his capital at
night, disguised like another Haroun al Raschid, but from a very
different motive to that which guided the enlightened Caliph, and
with very different results. Soon strange rumours were heard of these
nocturnal expeditions, of wild sallies and adventures, of street
fights, breaking of windows and conflicts with the watchmen. In these
excursions Kirschoff and Sperling accompanied the King, and aided and
abetted him in his wildest extravagancies. The sober Danes began to
take fright lest their young monarch should be thoroughly corrupted
by his evil companions. He was already earning the title, which the
English ladies gave him later, of "The Northern Scamp". The British
minister, who at first had nothing but praise for Christian VII., now
writes:--
"As this young gentleman [Sperling] is not eminently qualified to be
of any particular use or amusement to his Sovereign, otherwise than by
assisting him in the gratification of irregular passions, people are
alarmed at such a connection, and the greatest care will be taken to
prevent the evil effects which are naturally to be apprehended from
it".[49]
[49] Titley's despatch, February 4, 1766.
Something had to be done, so the ministers made a scapegoat of
Kirschoff and sent him away from court with a pension. Kirschoff,
though quite as vicious, was far less dangerous than Sperling, for
he had not the same influence with the King. But unfortunately this
arch-corrupter was suffered to remain, and by example and precept he
continued to encourage his master in vice and dissipation. The young
King's only restraint to the indulgence of gross and unbridled passions
was the superstition engendered by his gloomy creed. His teachers
had instilled into him a lively terror of hell and the devil, and
had painted in darkest colours the eternal punishment of the wicked.
Christian's mind often dwelt upon these things, and eventually the
torments of hell became with him a monomania. He used to discuss
this, and other religious questions, with Prince Charles of Hesse,
who had a liking for theological conversations; but his serious moods
did not last long. For instance, on one occasion the two young men
argued long and earnestly on the efficacy of the sacrament, and then
prayed together. The King was apparently deeply moved, but half an
hour later, when they went to see Queen Sophia Magdalena, he made a
mockery of the whole thing. "Charles and I have been praying together
most piously," he said, and burst into boisterous laughter. With such a
volatile temperament, never in the same mind two hours together, with
the spirit warring against the flesh, and the flesh warring against
the spirit, surrounded by temptations and evil example, the King did
well to hearken to Prince Charles when he urged him to marry as soon as
possible. Things were going from bad to worse, and it seemed that in a
happy marriage lay the only hope of the young monarch's salvation.
The Danish nation eagerly desired to see their King married, for they
wished to have the succession to the throne assured in the direct line.
The Ministers also desired it (even those who were opposed to the
English alliance), partly for political reasons, and partly because
they thought that the evil tendencies of the King could only be checked
in this way. Christian, himself, was averse from marriage, but since
it was inevitable, it was easier for him to yield now than to postpone
the question, only for it to be revived later. And if he must wed, his
English cousin would do as well as any other bride.
The marriage had been arranged to take place the following year,
1767, but, under the circumstances, it was thought advisable by
the Government at Copenhagen that it should take place sooner, and
representations were made to the court of St. James to that effect.
The English envoy, who was in constant dread lest the influence of
the French party should break off the match, also wrote home urging
the speedy fulfilment of the contract. Moreover, English interests
conspired to make it advisable that the marriage should take place
soon. Gunning,[50] who had succeeded Cosby at Copenhagen, wrote:
"There can be scarce any doubt that if the marriage takes place before
a renewal of the French treaty, the influence of so amiable a Princess,
as her Royal Highness is, on so young a Prince (who as yet has given
way to no tender attachment) will operate powerfully in favour of the
mutual interests of the two kingdoms".[51] Titley was no less zealous,
and while Gunning spoke of the political advantages of a speedy union,
he extolled the virtues of the royal bridegroom. "In his way of living
he is regular and sober," he writes, "eats heartily, but drinks little
or no wine. His temper is compassionate and good, but equitable and
firm. He has a quick apprehension, with a sound and not uncultivated
understanding, and his mind is well seasoned with the principles of
virtue and religion. He is now impatient for the accomplishment of
his marriage, and as he is hitherto under no prepossession, there is
the greatest reason to believe he will find his happiness in that
union."[52] What higher praise could be given of any prince!
[50] Robert Gunning (afterwards Sir Robert Gunning) was born in 1731,
and came of a distinguished Irish family. On the recall of Cosby
through ill-health, he was appointed Minister Resident at the court of
Denmark in November, 1765, but he did not arrive in Copenhagen until
April, 1766. His instructions were to assist the Envoy Extraordinary
and Minister Plenipotentiary, Walter Titley, and to keep the British
Government well informed of passing events. He performed his duties
so well, that, on the death of Titley in 1768, he was appointed his
successor at Copenhagen. He remained there until June, 1771, when he
was appointed Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to the
court of Prussia. Eventually he was transferred to the Russian court,
and after a distinguished diplomatic career died a Baronet and a Knight
of the Bath in 1816.
[51] Gunning's despatch, Copenhagen, April 19, 1766.
[52] Titley's despatch, Copenhagen, May 13, 1766.
The British King and Government, who were most anxious to check the
designs of France in the Baltic, responded with alacrity, and matters
advanced so quickly that, at the end of May, Bernstorff despatched
a messenger to Bothmar in London with instructions to conclude the
marriage contract, and to propose the completion of it in October.
During the summer of 1766 the nuptials of the King of Denmark's two
sisters took place in Copenhagen, the elder to the Crown Prince of
Sweden, and the younger to Prince Charles of Hesse. These events were
solemnised with considerable magnificence, and so was the birthday of
the future Queen of Denmark, now aged fifteen. Gunning writes: "To-day
was celebrated at the palace of Frederiksberg with every possible
demonstration of joy and festivity the birthday of the Princess
Matilda. His Danish Majesty omitted nothing that could tend to show the
satisfaction he felt upon that happy occasion. He did Mr. Titley and me
the honour of admitting us to his table, that we might be witnesses of
it, a favour conferred on none of the other foreign ministers."[53]
[53] Gunning's despatch, July 26, 1766.
English influence was decidedly in the ascendant at Copenhagen, but
the envoy's desired alliance of England, Russia and Denmark against
the designs of France and Sweden did not advance rapidly. It was hoped
that Matilda on her arrival at the Danish court would help it forward.
She was regarded as a pawn in the diplomatic game, and we find Titley
writing home before the marriage, to advise the part she was to play.
"The partisans of France," he writes, "still keep up their spirits
here in spite of very discouraging appearances. I have heard that they
place some hopes even in the future Queen, expecting to work upon her
youth and inexperience so far as to incline her to favour their cause.
Therefore ... I would beg leave to intimate that it were to be wished
that her Royal Highness before she comes hither might be a little
prepared, and put upon her guard against all such impressions, since
it is very certain that her authority here will be always precarious,
whatever flattering prospects may be held out to her, if any foreign
interest should prevail to the prejudice of England. It cannot,
however, be doubted that her Royal Highness will preserve a favourable
remembrance of her native country, especially when she finds her Royal
Consort and the generality of the nation giving in to those very
sentiments which must be natural to her."[54]
[54] Titley's despatch, Copenhagen, July 7, 1766.
These representations were doubtless communicated to Matilda. Her
brother, George III., signified his consent to the marriage taking
place in October, and commanded his minister at Copenhagen to inform
the court of Denmark that his sister would set out for her new home as
soon as the necessary formalities were accomplished.
CHAPTER VI.
MATILDA'S ARRIVAL IN DENMARK.
1766.
When Matilda was told that her marriage would take place a year earlier
than at first arranged she burst into tears, and no longer concealed
her extreme reluctance to the Danish match. The Princess-Dowager of
Wales commanded Sir Joshua Reynolds to paint the portrait of the future
Queen of Denmark before her departure from England, and the great
painter complained that he was unable to do justice either to the
Princess or himself, because she was always weeping.[55] But neither
tears nor lamentations had any effect with the Princess-Dowager; that
stern mother told her daughter to remember that princes and princesses
were not as ordinary mortals, free to wed as inclination suggested,
and she recalled the fact that she, herself, had been sent from her
secluded German home at the age of seventeen to England, to wed a
husband whom she had never seen.
[55] Northcote's _Memoirs of Sir J. Reynolds_, vol. i.
Matilda's home had not been altogether a happy one because of this same
mother, but she was fondly attached to her brothers and to her invalid
sister Louisa Anne, and she loved the land of her birth. She forced a
smile in response to those who came to offer their congratulations, but
she took no interest in the preparations for her marriage. She seemed
to have a foreboding of evil, and it was evident to all that she was a
most unwilling bride, sacrificed upon the altar of political expediency.
Not much time was allowed the young Princess for reflection, for soon
after the message was received from the Danish court her marriage and
departure were pushed on with all speed. On June 3, 1766, a message
from the King was delivered to Parliament asking for the marriage
portion of the Princess Matilda. After some debate, more on matters of
form than the actual sum, a portion was voted of £100,000.
This important preliminary over, the King decided that his sister was
to be married by proxy in England on October 1, and leave for Denmark
the next day. The event excited some public interest, and we glean the
following particulars from the journals concerning the preparations for
the bride's journey:--
"Tuesday the provisions dressed in the royal kitchen at Somerset House
were sent on board the yachts at Gravesend. The Princess Matilda's
baggage was yesterday sent down and the yachts sailed last night for
Harwich."[56]
[56] _The Gazetteer_, September 23, 1766.
"There are orders for two coaches, two post-chaises and four saddle
horses to be ready on Thursday next at five o'clock to attend the
Queen of Denmark to Harwich."[57]
[57] _The Gazetteer_, September 29, 1766.
"We hear that Princess Matilda has ordered genteel presents to all her
servants, and also some benefactions to be distributed among a number
of poor persons after her departure."[58]
[58] _The Public Advertiser_, September 29, 1766.
"Detachments of the Queen's, or Second Regiment of Light Dragoons, are
stationed on the Essex Road to escort the Queen of Denmark to Harwich.
'Tis imagined the Princess will only stop to change horses, as the
necessary refreshments are carried in the coach. One of the King's
cooks goes over with her Royal Highness."[59]
[59] _The Public Advertiser_, October 1, 1766.
George III. personally superintended the arrangements for his sister's
marriage and journey to Denmark. We find from him the following letter
to the Secretary of State:--
"I return you the proposed ceremonial for the espousals of my sister
which I entirely approve of. The full power must undoubtedly _ex
officio_ be read by you, and the solemn contract by the Archbishop of
Canterbury. I desire, therefore, that you will have it copied, only
inserting the royal apartments of St. James's Palace instead of the
Chapel Royal, and my brother's Christian name in those places where it
has, I think, evidently been, through the negligence of the copier,
omitted where he speaks. As in all other solemn declarations, that is
always used as well as the title. The Archbishop should then have
it communicated to him, that he may see whether it is conformable to
precedents, besides the dignity of his station calls for that mark of
regard from me."[60]
[60] Letter of King George III. to the Right Honourable Henry Seymour
Conway, Secretary of State, Queen's House, September 20, 1766. British
Museum, Egerton MS. 82, fol. 20.
On Wednesday, October 1, 1766, between seven and eight o'clock in the
evening, the Princess Matilda was married by proxy to the King of
Denmark in the council chamber of St. James's Palace. Her brother, the
Duke of York, stood for Christian VII., and the ceremony was performed
by the Archbishop of Canterbury in the presence of the King, the Queen,
the Princess-Dowager of Wales, and other members of the royal family.
A large company of nobility, gentry and foreign ministers were also
present. Immediately after the ceremony the Queen of Denmark, as she
was called, received the congratulations of the court, but she looked
pale and dejected and her eyes were full of unshed tears. The same
evening the Queen took formal leave of her brother, George III.
Matilda slept that night at Carlton House, and the next morning at
half-past six, in the grey light of a chill October dawn, she said
good-bye to her mother, and set out on her long journey. Three coaches
were waiting to convey the Queen to Harwich, the road was lined with
infantry, and a company of Life Guards was drawn up to escort her as
far as Mile End. These preparations caused a small crowd to assemble
in Pall Mall. The parting between Matilda and her mother was most
affecting. The marriage had been the Princess-Dowager's pet project,
but even she felt a pang when she bade her youngest child farewell and
sent her to the keeping of a strange prince in a far-off land. Her
farewell present to her daughter was a ring on which the words were
engraved, "May it bring thee happiness". When the young Queen came out
of the house to enter her coach it was noticed by the waiting crowd
that she was weeping bitterly, and this so affected many of the women
and children that they wept in company. The Duke of Gloucester, Baron
Bothmar,[61] the Queen's vice-chamberlain, who had been sent from
Denmark to escort her Majesty, and Lady Mary Boothby accompanied Queen
Matilda. The Life Guards conducted her as far as Mile End, and were
there relieved by a detachment of Light Dragoons who escorted the Queen
as far as Lord Abercorn's house at Witham, where it was arranged that
she would dine and sleep the night. Of this stage of her journey it is
written: "Her Majesty was dressed in bloom-colour with white flowers.
Wherever she passed the earnest prayers of the people were for her
health and praying God to protect her from the perils of the sea. An
easy melancholy at times seemed to affect her on account of leaving
her family and place of birth, but upon the whole she carried an air
of serenity and majesty which exceedingly moved every one who beheld
her."[62]
[61] A brother of the Danish envoy at the court of St. James's.
[62] _Public Advertiser_, October 5, 1766.
The next morning Matilda set out again, and escorted by another
detachment of Light Dragoons reached Harwich soon after four o'clock in
the afternoon, but the wind being in the north-east, and the sea rough,
it was not thought advisable for her to embark. She therefore went to
the house of the collector of customs where she supped and lay the
night, and the next morning at half-past eleven went on board the royal
yacht with her retinue. Here she took leave of her brother the Duke of
Gloucester who returned to London. The wind was still rough and the
yacht lay all the morning in the Roads, but towards evening, when the
gale had abated, she set sail for the coast of Holland. Matilda came on
deck and watched the shores of her native land until the last lights
faded from her view.
The evening of her departure, it is interesting to note, the eloquent
Nonconformist minister, George Whitefield, preached a sermon at his
Tabernacle in London on the marriage of the youthful Queen, and
concluded with an impassioned prayer for her future happiness.[63]
[63] _Vide Public Advertiser_, October 8, 1766.
It was known how unwilling she had been to go, and very general pity
was felt for her. "The poor Queen of Denmark," writes Mrs. Carter to
Miss Talbot on October 4, 1766, "is gone out alone into the wide world:
not a creature she knows to attend her any further than Altona. It is
worse than dying; for die she must to all she has ever seen or known;
but then it is only dying out of one bad world into another just like
it, and where she is to have cares and fears and dangers and sorrows
that will all yet be new to her. May it please God to protect and
instruct and comfort her, poor child as she is! and make her as good,
as beloved and as happy as I believe her Aunt Louisa was! They have
just been telling me how bitterly she cried in the coach so far as
anybody saw her."[64]
[64] Mrs. Carter's _Letters_, vol. iii.
The Queen had a very rough crossing, and did not arrive at Rotterdam
until six days after she had embarked at Harwich. She landed under a
discharge of cannon, and she was received with considerable ceremony
by the Prince Stadtholder and other personages. From Rotterdam to
Copenhagen is a distance of some six hundred miles. It had been
arranged that the Queen should accomplish this by slow stages, and
every resting-place on the line of route had already been decided upon.
[Illustration: KEW PALACE, WHERE QUEEN MATILDA PASSED MUCH OF HER
GIRLHOOD.
_From an Engraving, temp. 1751._]
At Rotterdam she embarked on the Stadtholder's yacht and proceeded
by water to Utrecht, where she stayed the night at the house of a
Dutch nobleman. From Utrecht she proceeded by coach, and passed in
due course into her brother's Hanoverian dominions. Her retinue was
a large and splendid one, and everywhere on the route she attracted
great attention, the people coming out to cheer and bless her. She lay
for one night at Osnabrück, in the castle, and (tradition says) in
the same room where her great-grandfather, George I., was born and was
driven back to die. She was received there, as elsewhere, with great
marks of distinction. At Lingen in Westphalia a cavalcade of students,
arrayed in blue uniforms, came out of the town gate on horseback to
meet her. They conducted her to the house where she was to rest, they
serenaded her, and kept guard all night under her windows. The next
morning they escorted her three leagues on the road to Bremen, where
they took their leave. Her Majesty thanked them for their gallant
conduct.
At Harburg on the Elbe Matilda embarked upon a richly decorated barge,
which had been built by the city of Hamburg for her use. On this she
sailed down the Elbe to Altona. The river was covered with boats and
all kinds of craft, flying the British and Danish flags, and as the
barge came in sight of Hamburg (a city adjacent to Altona) the Queen
was saluted by a discharge of thirty guns. The quays of Hamburg were
gaily decorated, and thronged with people anxious to catch sight of the
youthful Queen.
A few minutes before Matilda's landing at Altona the Stadtholder of
Schleswig-Holstein went on board to pay his respects to the Queen
of Denmark, and to present to her Madame de Plessen, her first
lady-in-waiting, the maids of honour, and the men of her household, who
had there assembled to meet her. At Altona the Queen first set foot
in Danish dominions. She landed at six o'clock in the evening, and
passed down a bridge covered with scarlet cloth, and between two lines
of maidens dressed in white, who strewed flowers before her feet. The
streets, through which she drove, were lined with burghers under arms,
thronged with people, and decorated with flags, mottoes and triumphal
arches. The Queen passed under one of these arches, beautifully
illuminated, just in front of her house. That same evening the chief
ladies of the city were presented to her, and she supped in public. The
Queen rested at Altona over Sunday. In the morning she went to church,
and on her return held a court. She also received a deputation of the
magistrates of Altona, and one of them read the following address:--
"Your Majesty now gives us a mark of goodness, which we cannot
sufficiently acknowledge, in graciously permitting us to testify the
boundless veneration and joy which are excited in the hearts of the
burgesses and the inhabitants on your happy arrival in this city. It
is true that in every part of your journey your Majesty will receive
from your faithful subjects transports of joy and most ardent vows,
nevertheless, our fidelity is surpassed by none, and Altona at the same
time enjoys this happy privilege, that she is the first of all the
cities in the kingdom to admire in your Majesty's person a Princess the
most accomplished, and a Queen to whose protection we have the honour
to recommend ourselves with all possible submission."[65]
[65] _Public Advertiser_, letter from Hamburg, November 4, 1766.
Matilda graciously replied, and charmed every one by her youth
and affability. When the court was over, the Queen, attended by a
detachment of Hamburg troops and Danish cuirassiers, made a progress
through Altona and Hamburg, and was greeted with enthusiasm by all
classes of the people.
The next morning, Monday, the Queen took leave of her English suite,
who were now to return to England. The parting moved her to tears, and
she presented Lady Mary Boothby, who had been with her for years, with
a watch, set with diamonds, and a cheque for a thousand crowns. It
had been stipulated by the Danish court that Matilda should bring no
English person in her train to Denmark, so that she might more readily
adapt herself to the customs of her adopted country.
The Danish suite were, of course, all strangers to the Queen, and the
first aspect of her chief lady-in-waiting, Madame de Plessen, was not
reassuring. Madame de Plessen was the widow of a privy councillor, and
was a little over forty years of age. She had been lady-in-waiting to
Queen Sophia Magdalena, who held her in high esteem: it was through her
influence that she obtained this appointment. Madame de Plessen was
a virtuous and religious woman, with a strict sense of duty and high
moral principles, and could be trusted to guide the young Queen in the
way she should go. But she had been trained in the old school, and her
ideas of etiquette were rigid in the extreme. She sought to hedge round
the Queen with every possible form and ceremony, and at first her
chill formalism frightened the timid Queen, who had not yet discovered
that behind her austere demeanour Madame de Plessen concealed a kind
heart.
Madame de Plessen was a clever and ambitious woman, and like her
former mistress, Sophia Magdalena, she favoured the French party at
Copenhagen. Her appointment, as head of the Queen's household, was
therefore viewed with no little apprehension by Gunning, who, some
time before Matilda's arrival in Denmark, wrote to warn the British
Government:--
"The person at the head of the list [of the Queen's household]," he
writes, "is a lady of an excellent understanding, possessing a thorough
knowledge of the world, and a most intriguing disposition. These
talents have recommended her to the Ministers here as a proper person
to place about the future Queen, but they are not the only ones. Her
being entirely devoted to the French system and interest, pointed her
out as the fittest instrument, to either give the young Princess the
bias they wish (which they think will not be difficult at her age), or,
by circumventing her, prevent that influence they conclude she will
have on the King. Their having unhappily effected the latter in the
late reign, gives them hopes of being equally successful in this; but
if her Royal Highness be prepared against these snares, her good sense
and discernment will prevent her falling into them, or being persuaded
by all the arguments (however specious) they may use, that it is not
the interest of this country [Denmark] to engage itself too close with
England."[66]
[66] Gunning's despatch, Copenhagen, May 20, 1766. Marked "_secret_".
It soon became apparent that the English envoy's fears were not without
foundation, and before long Madame de Plessen gained a great ascendency
over her young mistress. But at first she put aside all thought of
political intrigue, and her only instinct was maternal sympathy for the
lonely little Queen. Within a few days Matilda completely won Madame de
Plessen's heart, and the duenna determined at all hazard to protect her
charge against the perils and temptations of the corrupt court whither
she was bound.
From Hamburg Matilda proceeded by easy stages through her Danish
dominions. She was received at the gates of the city of Schleswig by
the chief burgesses and clergy, who complimented her on her arrival.
Her journey was a triumphal progress. Gunning writes from Copenhagen:
"We have an account of her Majesty's being arrived at Schleswig in
perfect health. The transports of the common people at the expectation
of again seeing an English princess on the throne are scarcely to be
described. Her Majesty's affability and condescension have already
gained her the hearts of all those who have had an opportunity of
approaching her."[67]
[67] Gunning's despatch, Copenhagen, October 25, 1766.
Matilda arrived at the historic town of Röskilde,[68] near Copenhagen,
on the evening of November 1, and rested there the night. Here Titley
and Gunning were waiting to have audience, and a courier was sent ahead
to inform the King, who was at the Christiansborg Palace, that his
Queen was at Röskilde. The next morning, as early as seven o'clock,
Christian VII., with his brother the Hereditary Prince Frederick, and
his cousin Prince Charles of Hesse, set out in all haste for Röskilde.
Here the King and Queen saw one another for the first time. The King
greeted his bride with great heartiness, and bade her welcome to his
kingdom. So delighted was he with her that, in defiance of etiquette,
he embraced and kissed her in the presence of all the company. The
little Queen seemed much comforted by this warm welcome, and at first
sight was favourably impressed with her husband. The young King
had charming manners, and was by no means ill to look upon. Though
considerably under middle height he was perfectly proportioned, and
possessed agility and strength. His features were regular, if not
handsome, and, like his Queen and cousin, he was very fair, with blue
eyes and yellow hair. His personal appearance was greatly enhanced by
his dress, which was magnificent and in the best of taste.
[68] Röskilde, an ancient town on the fjord of that name, once the
capital of the kingdom, and afterwards the residence of the Bishop
of Zealand. It has a magnificent cathedral, containing the tombs of
the Kings and Queens of Denmark. They are buried there to this day.
Röskilde is about twenty English miles from Copenhagen.
After the first greetings were over, a procession was formed to
escort Matilda to Frederiksberg, where she was to stay until her
marriage. Again Christian put etiquette on one side and insisted on
entering the same coach as the Queen--an ornate state coach drawn by
six white horses. The coach was preceded by an escort of guards and
followed by a train of other coaches. Frederiksberg was reached about
noon, and here the Queen-Mother, Sophia Magdalena, the Queen-Dowager,
Juliana Maria, the Princess Louise, the King's sister, and a great
number of the nobility were assembled to welcome the bride. Matilda
was received by all with the greatest marks of affection and respect.
Even Juliana Maria, who saw in her advent a blow to her hopes, forced
herself to greet the young Queen with some show of cordiality. As for
the old Queen, Sophia Magdalena, she frankly was delighted with her
granddaughter-in-law, and sent a special message to Titley, as to an
old friend, to tell him "how extremely satisfied and charmed she was
with the person and conversation of the new Queen".[69] Matilda gave
universal satisfaction, and the envoys wrote enthusiastically:--
"She has everywhere been received in these dominions with all due
honours and the greatest demonstrations of joy. She seems to gain
universal applause and affection wherever she appears, and her
particular attendants are unanimous in giving the highest praises to
her disposition and behaviour."[70]
[69] Titley's despatch, Copenhagen, November 4, 1766.
[70] _Ibid._
Immediately on her arrival at Frederiksberg Matilda held a court,
at which many personages of distinction were presented to her. The
court was followed by a banquet, when the King and his bride, the two
Dowager-Queens and the rest of the royal family dined in public. After
the banquet the King and all the other personages present took their
leave and returned to Copenhagen, leaving Matilda to well-earned rest.
Her long journey had occupied a month; she left England on October 2,
and reached Frederiksberg on November 2. All this time she had been on
the road, and perpetually receiving congratulations and deputations.
It was no small tribute to the tact and amiability of this princess of
fifteen that she everywhere won golden opinions. And it was proof of
the strength of her constitution that she bore the long and tedious
journey across northern Europe, in inclement weather, without illness
or undue fatigue.
Matilda rested at Frederiksberg for five days. On Saturday, November
8, she made her public entry into Copenhagen--on the occasion of
the marriage the same evening. Her entry was attended with every
circumstance of pomp and enthusiasm. About noon Princess Louise drove
to Frederiksberg, where her young sister-in-law was ready to receive
her. Accompanied by the Princess, Queen Matilda drove to a common
outside Copenhagen behind the "Blaagaard" [Blue Farm], where she found
a long procession awaiting her. The Queen here descended from her coach
and entered another, beautifully decorated and gilt. The procession
then set out for Copenhagen in the following order:[71] A squadron of
Horse Guards; a band of mounted drummers and trumpeters, twelve royal
pages in gold and crimson liveries on horseback, and a cavalcade, under
the command of the Master of the Horse, consisting of many officers of
the court. Then followed the ministers of state and the ambassadors
in their coaches; each coach vied with the other in magnificence, and
each was drawn by six horses and escorted by six running footmen. Then
came the Knights of the Order of the Elephant, wearing their robes and
insignia; the Knights of the Order of the Dannebrog, also in their
robes; the Royal Head Riding-Master, mounted on the "Dancing Horse"
(whatever that may mean), and a bevy of beautifully dressed ladies
in coaches. The climax of all this magnificence was the lovely young
Queen in robes of silver tissue and ermine, with a circlet of diamonds
on her fair hair, seated in her coach drawn by eight white horses,
and surrounded by royal lackeys in gorgeous liveries. Immediately
behind the Queen's coach came the members of her household; and twelve
halberdiers, arrayed in scarlet cloaks and equipped with pikes, closed
the procession.
[71] The following description of the Queen's entry into Copenhagen and
her marriage is based upon official documents in the archives of the
Court Marshal at Copenhagen, and from Danish papers of the time.
The procession entered Copenhagen through the Nörreport [North Gate]
and passed along the Nörregade [North Street] to the Gammeltorv
[Market Place]. Cannon thundered as the Queen passed under the gate,
and all the bells of the churches clashed forth joyous chimes. The
route was gaily decorated with flags and draperies; companies of
burghers lined the streets, and the balconies, windows, and even the
housetops were crowded with people, who cheered with wild enthusiasm.
The little Queen, looking like a fairy in her robes of silver tissue,
was seen, bowing and smiling, through the windows of her great gorgeous
coach, and she captured all hearts at once. "The English rose," the
Danes called her, and they hailed her as another Queen Louise, who
would act as a guide and helpmate to her husband, a purifier of his
court, and a true friend of the people.
In the Market Place the procession came to a halt for a few minutes
before the Town Hall, and the Queen was met by a bevy of eighteen
young girls, dressed in white, and who carried wreaths and baskets of
flowers. Here was a magnificent arch, seventy feet high, representing
a Corinthian portcullis, and through the archway was revealed a
background in perspective of the Temple of Hymen. A statue of Hymen
looked down upon an altar, and above this altar allegorical figures of
Denmark and England clasped hands. A pretty ceremony took place; the
maidens passed up the steps and laid their wreaths upon the altar of
Hymen singing:
God bless King Christian the Mild
And his Caroline Mathilde.
Then they cast flowers before the Queen's coach, and at "the same
moment was heard the most delightful music, which broke forth
simultaneously from all sides". Thus amid music, song, flowers and
shouts of joy and welcome, Matilda proceeded on her way through the
city, and at last reached the Christiansborg Palace.
As her coach drew up at the main entrance, the guard presented arms,
and the heralds blared on their silver trumpets. The heir presumptive,
Prince Frederick, was waiting to receive the Queen; he assisted her
to alight, and conducted her up the grand staircase into the King's
presence. The King received his bride with every mark of affection and
honour, and then led her to the knights' hall, where a state banquet
was served. The King pledged his Queen in a superb wedding goblet of
crystal and gold, manufactured for the occasion.[72]
[72] This goblet is still preserved in the Rosenborg. It is a
magnificent specimen of Danish art. The Danish and English arms are
ground into the crystal, the crowned initials of the bridal pair are
also inscribed, and underneath appears the legend "_Felici sidere
juncti_, 1766". The elaborately chased lid is surmounted by a crown.
The height of the goblet is eighteen inches.
After the banquet the Queen retired to her apartments to rest awhile,
and then robed for her wedding. At seven o'clock in the evening all
the ladies belonging to the two first ranks of the Danish nobility
(namely, the countesses and baronesses), and the ladies who had
taken part in the royal procession into Copenhagen, assembled in the
ante-chamber of the Queen's apartments. At half-past seven the Queen
appeared, a beautiful vision wearing a robe of white silk brocaded with
silver, a veil of priceless lace and a crown of pearls and diamonds.
The ladies made a lane for her to pass, and curtsied their obeisance.
The Queen, who, despite her tender years, bore herself with great
dignity, proceeded to the knights' hall, where the wedding procession
was marshalled. All the members of the royal family joined in this
procession with the exception of the Queen-Dowager, Juliana Maria, who
pleaded illness as an excuse for not appearing. The King and Queen
came last of all, and walked under a canopy to the royal chapel of the
Christiansborg, where the marriage ceremony was performed by Bishop
Harboe of Zealand. The chapel was brilliantly illuminated, and thronged
with the chief personages in Denmark, clad in rich attire, and covered
with orders and jewels. During the ceremony the King and Queen stood,
or knelt, on a _haut pas_ before the altar, which was covered with
cloth of gold and decked with silver candlesticks bearing large wax
tapers. At the conclusion of the marriage service the procession was
re-formed, and the King and Queen were conducted from the chapel to the
ante-room of their apartments, where the company dispersed.
In honour of the marriage day a silver medal was struck, and numerous
orders and titles were distributed. At night the city of Copenhagen was
illuminated, and people paraded the streets all night shouting and
singing for joy. The young Queen had won all hearts, and the popular
enthusiasm evoked by the marriage augured well for the future of the
monarchy.
Copenhagen held high festival for a week after the royal wedding, and
the populace as well as the court joined in the festivities. There was
a gala performance at the theatre including a "Felicitation Ballet,"
in which there were many pretty allusions to the young Queen, who
was styled Venus or "_la plus belle_". Two days after the marriage
the knights' hall of the Christiansborg Palace was the scene of a
wedding ball. Queen Matilda opened the ball by dancing a minuet with
the King with much grace and spirit. She then honoured the English
envoy, Gunning, by commanding him to dance with her--a very natural
proceeding, for she wished to pay honour to her native country.
But it gave offence to some of the other foreign envoys present,
especially to the Spanish minister, who was the _doyen_ of the _corps
diplomatique_ at Copenhagen, and he reported the circumstance to the
Spanish court, who later demanded an explanation.[73] Nor was this the
only unpleasantness at the ball. After supper the _kehraus_, a Danish
country dance, was danced, and one figure was danced in procession. The
_kehraus_ was led by Prince Charles of Hesse and his wife, the Princess
Louise--probably because they knew all the figures. The King came next
with the Queen, and all the rest of the company followed, two and two.
The King, who had supped freely, was in boisterous spirits, and called
out to Prince Charles: "Lead the _kehraus_ through all the apartments".
The Prince therefore led the procession through the rooms on the first
floor of the palace, the band, presumably, going before. The procession
of laughing and dancing men and women followed, until they came to the
ante-chamber of the Queen's apartments. At the door of the Queen's
bedchamber Prince Charles found Madame de Plessen standing like a
dragon in his path. Imperiously she waved him back, and declared that
his entrance would be an outrage, alike on etiquette and decency. But
the King, whom any opposition goaded to anger, shouted: "Do not heed an
old woman's nonsense! Go on! Go on!" Therefore Madame de Plessen, still
expostulating, was thrust aside, and the procession danced through the
Queen's bedchamber, and so back to the ballroom.
[73] Gunning's despatch, Copenhagen, November 18, 1766.
[Illustration: THE MARRIAGE BALL OF CHRISTIAN VII. AND QUEEN MATILDA IN
THE CHRISTIANSBORG PALACE.
_From a Contemporary Print._]
These incidents, trivial though they were, revealed the rocks ahead in
the way of the young Queen, and showed that no common care would be
necessary to avoid them. As the English Secretary of State, Conway,
wrote to Gunning not long after Matilda's arrival at Copenhagen:--
"Her Majesty is entering upon the most important era of her life, and
at a tender age is launched, as it were alone, into a strange and wide
ocean, where it might require the utmost care and prudence to steer
with that nice conduct which may at once conciliate the affections
of her court and people, and support the dignity of that high station
to which Providence has called her".[74]
[74] Conway's despatch to Gunning, St. James's, November 18, 1766.
CHAPTER VII.
MARIAGE À LA MODE.
1766-1767.
The court of Denmark over which Matilda was now the reigning Queen,
though not the ruling spirit, was the last place in the world for a
young and innocent girl to be sent alone. It was a hotbed of intrigue,
a stye of vile epicurism, where even decency was disregarded. Cunning
as foxes, and like foxes in their lust and greed, the majority of the
courtiers thought only of advancing their personal interests at the
expense of each other, or by vain and frivolous amusement to kill the
passing hour. All things that made for purity of life, nobility of
purpose, or singleness of heart, were mocked at and derided. Truth,
honour and virtue were by-words. During the later years of Frederick
V.'s reign the influence of the French court (at its worst) had not
been confined in Denmark to politics alone, but extended to manners and
morals as well. This influence became far more visible at the court
of Christian VII. than at that of his father. The society which the
young King collected around him within the walls of the Christiansborg
Palace did its best to copy Versailles, and it succeeded in aping the
vices, if not the superficial refinement, of the court of France.
At Christiansborg might be seen the same type of silly brainless
persons as those who flitted about the ante-chambers of Versailles,
who adopted the same frivolous tone, and the same loose morals. Their
avowed object was to avoid _ennui_, but in their pursuit of pleasure
they often caught boredom. The Danish courtiers, both men and women,
were artificial to the core. They painted their faces, powdered their
hair, and dressed extravagantly. They disguised every real sentiment,
and sought always to seem what they were not. They expressed nothing
but contempt for the language and customs of their native land. To be
Danish was _bourgeois_, to be virtuous even more so.
The cheap cynicism which mocks at marriage, and all its privileges and
duties, was much in vogue among the fashionable or "young party" at the
Danish court. Christian VII. had heard too much of these views from the
young rake-hells whom he chose for his companions not to be entirely
at one with them, and he looked on marriage as the greatest burden. He
had been extremely reluctant to take it upon himself and had only done
so at the strongest representations of his ministers. Reverdil declares
with a groan that to this epicene being "_une personne royale dans son
lit lui semblait d'ailleurs plutôt un objet de respect que d'amour_,"
and adds that the King would have certainly refused to perform his
connubial duties had it not been represented to him that the absence
of an heir to the throne would give rise to all manner of evil gossip
respecting himself.
The young King had consented to marry with an ill grace, and after
his marriage he lost no time in declaring to his boon companions that
he intended to be in every respect a husband _à la mode_. The first
sight of his consort's fresh and youthful beauty had seemed to awaken
in him some dormant sense of manliness, and he treated her at first
with a plausible imitation of lover-like ardour. He was flattered by
the warmth of her reception and the praises of her beauty, which he
interpreted as tributes to his own good taste. The ceremonies incident
on the wedding gratified his love of display, and the festivities that
followed delighted his pleasure-loving soul. He was like a child with
a new toy, but he wearied of it even more quickly than a child. If
his passion ever existed it was short-lived, for on the third day of
his marriage he said to one of his intimate friends that he strongly
advised him never to marry, as the unmarried state was far preferable.
This speech might have been credited to the affectation of a very
young husband who wished to pose as a cynic, but there was evidently
something more behind it, for neither of the young couple appeared to
be happy during the first days of their married life; Christian was
restless and discontented, Matilda pensive and melancholy.
The Queen's depression was natural. The excitement and novelty of her
journey and her enthusiastic welcome had buoyed her up at first, but
now these were over she felt the reaction. She was a stranger in a
strange land, separated from every one she had ever known, and she
suffered from homesickness. A closer acquaintance with her husband
obliterated the favourable first impression she had formed of him.
He was a disappointment. The flattering despatches which the English
envoys had sent to London (some of which we have quoted) credited
him with every physical and mental endowment, and portrayed him as
a paragon among princes. These encomiums, duly communicated to the
Princess-Dowager, had been dunned into Matilda's ears with such
persistency that she thought she was marrying a prince who was almost
a demi-god, and who gathered up into himself all the attributes of
the legendary heroes of Scandinavian romance. What then must have
been her disappointment when she found that her husband resembled a
French _petit maître_, rather than a son of the Vikings. To add to
her disillusion Christian made hardly any show of affection for his
wife, and after the first few days treated her with open indifference.
A week after their marriage the royal couple gave a banquet at the
Christiansborg Palace, and it was noticed by the company that already
the bloom had faded from the young Queen's cheeks, and she smiled with
evident effort. Her sadness increased from day to day, and she often
gazed at the ring her mother had given her, with its inscription, "May
it bring thee happiness," and sighed heavily. The King, who wished for
nothing but to be amused, was piqued by his consort's despondency, and
so far from making any attempt to comfort her, relieved his feelings
by satirical remarks. One day when one of his favourites called his
attention to the Queen's sadness, he said: "What does it matter? It is
not my fault. I believe she has the spleen." The King's indifference
to his Queen was quickly noticed by the courtiers, who took their cue
accordingly, and treated her as a person of little account. Ogier, the
French envoy at Copenhagen, reported to Paris three weeks after the
marriage: "The English Princess has produced hardly any impression on
the King's heart; but had she been even more amiable she would have
experienced the same fate, for how could she please a man who seriously
believes that it is not good form (_n'est pas du bon air_) for a
husband to love his wife?"
The French envoy was exultant that the marriage, on which England had
built such high hopes, should produce so little effect politically.
The Queen had no influence with the King, and he would be more likely
to oppose her wishes than to yield to them, if only for fear lest it
should be thought that he was governed by his wife. The poor little
Queen had no wish for political power, and was too much downcast by
her own personal disappointments to be of any use in a diplomatic
intrigue. But George III., and the English Government, who had no
knowledge of the real state of affairs, persisted in their project of
using the Queen for their own advantage; and Secretary Conway sent
minute instructions to Gunning as to the best way in which this could
be worked.
"In regard to your applying to the young Queen," he writes, "her
affection to his Majesty [George III.], and love for her native
country, cannot but incline her to preserve, as much as it can be in
her power to do, the mind of the King of Denmark, permanently fixed
upon the strictest union with his Majesty's, who has no one view in
his alliance inconsistent with the honour of the King of Denmark or
the welfare of his kingdom. Both Mr. Titley and you will doubtless
omit nothing that can mark your utmost attention and desire of serving
her Majesty. There might seem an impropriety in endeavouring to engage
her Majesty to interfere in business, especially in what has the air
of court intrigue, but so far as informing her Majesty fully of the
present state of the court, and apprising her who are the best friends
of her native country, and consequently most inclined to promote the
true honour and interests of their own, it will be your duty, and may
be an essential service to her Majesty, whose good sense will make the
properest use of the lights you furnish. The etiquette of the court of
Denmark (I find by your letter of September 2) allows an easier access
to family ministers than to others, and this privilege you will, I
imagine, have no difficulty to preserve.... You may also be assured
that the affection of his Majesty [George III.], and his care for the
welfare and happiness of his sister, so deservedly the object of his
love and esteem, cannot fail of having suggested every proper counsel
and information more immediately necessary for her guidance in the
delicate and important situation she is placed. Upon that foundation
you may properly build, and in such further lights as it may be fit for
you to give her Majesty, I think both the opportunities and the matter
of the information itself should rather flow naturally than be too
affectedly sought."[75]
[75] Sir H. S. Conway's despatch to Gunning, St. James's, October 24,
1766.
The English Government was soon disappointed of its hope of using
the Danish Queen as a pawn in the political game. Gunning, in bitter
disappointment, enlightened Conway as to the true state of affairs
a few weeks after the marriage. "All access to either the King or
Queen of Denmark," he wrote, "is rendered so difficult that without
being furnished with some pretext I can never expect to approach
either of their Majesties but in public. The preference given me there
has already occasioned some of the most unheard of and preposterous
complaints." [Here he refers to the protest of the Spanish minister
already mentioned.] "Monsieur Reventlow[76] has lately made me some
overtures to a better understanding; he speaks in raptures of the
Queen whenever I see him, and I believe will constitute as much as
depends upon him to promote her Majesty's happiness. This is of itself
a sufficient reason for my wishing to cultivate his good opinion, and
if possible to bring him over to our interests. [The French Minister]
encourages the carrying on intrigues against us; they (I need not tell
you, sir) increase every day, and particularly since the arrival of
her Majesty,--the principal people about her being our most inveterate
enemies."[77]
[76] Reventlow had been appointed the Queen's Chief Chamberlain.
[77] Gunning's despatch to Conway, Copenhagen, November 18, 1766.
One of the "inveterate enemies" was the austere and haughty Madame de
Plessen, who hedged the Queen round with iron etiquette, and permitted
none to enter her presence without her permission. Especially did she
throw difficulties in the way of the English envoy having frequent
access of her Majesty, on the ground that his visits would be sure
to cause jealousy and ill-will. The Queen, she urged, must overcome
her natural preferences, she must forget that she was a Princess of
Great Britain, and remember only that she was Queen of Denmark and
Norway. This was perhaps sound advice so far as it went, but Madame de
Plessen's object in giving it was not altogether disinterested. She,
like her former mistress, Queen Sophia Magdalena, was a sworn friend
of France, and probably in its pay. Madame de Plessen had a genius
for political intrigue, and her apartments in the palace formed a
_rendez-vous_ for the friends of France.
It is difficult to follow the cross-currents of politics at the Danish
court during the early years of the reign of Christian VII., but so
far as foreign affairs were concerned, the position may be briefly
summarised thus: The main object of England was to check France; the
main object of Sweden was to check Russia. Therefore, whatever was
disagreeable to France at Copenhagen was agreeable to England. Whatever
was disagreeable to Sweden was agreeable to Russia. Failing to see
her own influence in the ascendant at the Danish court, England would
prefer to see that of Russia. Bernstorff, the Prime Minister, was very
friendly to Russia, and not ill-disposed to England. Therefore, the
French envoy and Madame de Plessen intrigued against him. In domestic
politics also the Queen's chief lady was in opposition to Bernstorff,
and to her chambers flocked malcontents, including many of the staider
and more conservative among the Danish nobility, who shook their heads
over the misgovernment of the Prime Minister, and the follies and
extravagancies of the King and his friends.
The advent of the young Queen was made an excuse for the King to
gratify his passion for festivity and display. During the preceding
reign the court had led a comparatively quiet life, but the winter
following Christian VII.'s marriage was an unceasing round of gaiety.
Balls, banquets, concerts, masques, operas and plays, hunting parties,
sledge parties, circuses, and excursions to the different royal castles
around Copenhagen--there were a good many--succeeded one another in
quick succession. The King had a great love for the play, so he built
a court theatre at the Christiansborg Palace and decorated it without
regard to expense. A French company acted there, and the King and his
suite frequently took part in the performances. The King acted a part
in Voltaire's _Zaire_, and his performance was received with great
applause. He was so much impressed with his dramatic talents that he
twice repeated his performance in the larger theatre of Copenhagen, and
there the general public were permitted to attend. Acting, however, was
but a passing phase with the King, and he soon tired of it, though he
undoubtedly showed talent.
Madame de Plessen did all she could to prevent the Queen from taking
part in the court festivities, but Matilda, who was young, and fond of
pleasure, could not be prevailed upon to absent herself altogether,
more especially as by doing so she would incur the displeasure of the
King. But she never appeared unless attended by Madame de Plessen, and
turned to her always for guidance. It was Madame de Plessen who chose
the ladies to dance in the same quadrilles as the Queen, and she took
care that none, however beautiful or fashionable they might be, should
be admitted to this honour if there were the slightest blemish upon
their reputation. With men the same care was not necessary, for, as a
matter of etiquette, the Queen never danced with any but princes of
the blood, ambassadors, ministers of state, or others it was deemed
advisable to honour in an especial manner.
The introduction of masquerades was a still more startling innovation,
and gave great offence to the two Dowager-Queens. Sophia Magdalena
protested, but though her protests were supported by several of the
ministers, and the more prominent among the clergy, they were unheeded.
The King and his friends anticipated too many gallant adventures to
forego the opportunities which a masked ball offered, and they wished
to imitate at Copenhagen those masquerades held at the opera in Paris.
The first masked ball ever given in Denmark was held in December in
the Christiansborg Palace. All the ladies and gentlemen belonging to
the first three classes were admitted, besides all officers belonging
to both services. They were allowed to appear in any fancy dress they
chose, the only restriction being that they should not come "in the
likeness of an animal or any unseemly disguise". The King appeared
as a Sultan, and his immediate following were also in eastern dress.
The point was fiercely debated whether the Queen should appear at the
masquerades or not; the Dowager-Queens and Madame de Plessen being
wholly against it, and the King insisting upon it. Finally a compromise
was arrived at; Matilda showed herself to the company for a short
time, and then retired to her apartments to play chess with court
ladies chosen for her by Madame de Plessen, and the elderly wives of
ministers. It was as well that the Queen retired early, for the tone of
the masquerade became more and more free as the evening wore on, and
degenerated at last into riotous licence.
The expense of these entertainments was very heavy, and the people,
who were overburdened with taxes, began to murmur. There was great
distress in Copenhagen during the winter of 1766-67, and the contrast
between the want and misery in the poorer quarters of the city, and
the festivity and extravagance in the palace, was very striking. The
people, who loved the pomp and circumstance of royalty, might at
another time have overlooked this lavish expenditure, on the ground of
the youth and natural gaiety of the King. But sinister rumours were
afloat concerning him and his pleasures, and he had already by his
puerile amusements and dissipated conduct forfeited to a great extent
the public respect. Moreover, the Puritan party in Denmark was very
strong, and included the elder members of the royal family, and many
of the most influential personages in church and state. These regarded
many of the court festivities with disapproval, and the masquerades
with horror. The clergy especially were violent in their denunciations,
and did not hesitate to fan the flame of popular discontent. For
instance, a building, belonging, and adjacent to, the Christiansborg
Palace, in which there was a large wood store and brewery, caught fire
about this time, and was burned to the ground; the conflagration was
the biggest known in Copenhagen for years. Pastor Münter, a preacher
of great power, seized upon the incident to preach a sermon against
the sinful amusements of the court. He declared that the fire was a
sign from heaven to warn the King and his following to refrain from
their wicked ways, and if they did not profit by it they would be
utterly consumed with fire, if not here, then most certainly hereafter.
The sermon made a great sensation in Copenhagen, and the preacher was
reprimanded by the court, but he was regarded as an inspired prophet by
many austere Puritans.
The worst of all this controversy was that the innocent young Queen was
blamed unjustly. Rumours were spread abroad that Matilda was largely
responsible for these extravagancies; and in proof of the assertion
it was pointed out that the introduction of masquerades followed upon
the arrival of the English princess. It was said that these rumours
originated at the court of the Queen-Dowager. Juliana Maria had retired
to the Fredensborg with her son, the Hereditary Prince Frederick, where
she was surrounded by a little circle of malcontents. In due time these
untruths reached Matilda's ears and caused her great annoyance. The
young Queen's household, including Madame de Plessen, did everything
they could to contradict the reports, but with indifferent success. The
mischief was done, and it remained a fixed idea in the minds of many
people that the Queen was almost as devoted as the King to frivolous
amusements. Queen Matilda communicated her uneasiness to the English
envoy, who wrote home:--
"At a time when the Crown labours under the pressure of heavy debts,
and the revenue, from mismanagement, is so much lessened, people
naturally complain of the increase of expenses, and the introduction
of a number of entertainments, and amongst these, of masquerades. The
Queen is under the greatest uneasiness, lest this should be imputed to
her having any inclination for a diversion of this kind, from which,
on the contrary, the goodness of her heart, and the purity of her
sentiments, render her very averse. The sweetness of her disposition,
and the uncommon degree of prudence and discretion she is endowed with,
must ensure her a large share of happiness; but whatever my wishes
may be, I cannot flatter myself this will ever bear any proportion to
what her Majesty so justly deserves."[78] To which the Secretary of
State replied: "Your attention to her Danish Majesty is most justly
commendable, and certainly her Majesty's cautious conduct is most
amiable and respectable".[79]
[78] Gunning's despatch, Copenhagen, December 6, 1766.
[79] Conway's despatch, St. James's, December 29, 1766.
The festivities of the Danish court culminated in the coronation and
anointing of the King and Queen, which took place on May 1, 1767.[80]
The day dawned brilliantly fine, though the air was clear and cold.
At an early hour the bells of the Vor-Frue-Kirke (the Church of
Our Lady, the metropolitan church of Denmark) began to ring, and
bells chimed merrily from other towers. At eleven o'clock all the
gentlemen-in-waiting assembled in the King's ante-chamber, and all the
ladies-in-waiting in the Queen's. The King donned the anointing robes:
"A short jacket and breeches of gold brocade, pearl-coloured silk
stockings, white gloves embroidered with gold, and white shoes with red
heels; his buckles, garters and coat buttons were set with diamonds,
and his cloak of royal ermine was embroidered with golden flowers".
The King, thus arrayed, crowned himself with his own hands according
to the _Lex Regia_, which ordained that "since the Kings of Denmark do
not receive the crown from any hands but their own, the ceremony of
coronation shall be performed by themselves".
[80] The following description of the coronation is taken from official
documents preserved in the Royal Archives, Copenhagen.
With the crown on his head the King, accompanied by the Grand
Chamberlain, who carried the Queen's crown on a velvet cushion, went to
the Queen's room and crowned her with his own hands.
This ceremony over, the King took the sceptre in his right hand
and the orb in his left, and donned the collars of both the great
Danish orders, the Elephant and the Dannebrog. Then he passed into
his audience chamber, his train upborne by the Counts Reventlow and
Danneskjold-Samsöe. There he held a court, and received the homage of
the principal personages in the state.
The Queen, likewise attired in her anointing robes, to wit: "A robe of
cloth of gold, and a royal mantle of red velvet lined with ermine and
embroidered with gold crowns," and with the crown upon her head, passed
into her audience chamber, her train upborne by Madame de Plessen and
the Countess St. Germains. Here she held a court, and received the
homage of the assembled ladies.
[Illustration: THE CHRISTIANSBORG PALACE, COPENHAGEN.
_From an Old Print, temp. 1768._]
The procession to the chapel of the Christiansborg was then marshalled,
and as the bells rang out it passed down the marble stairs of the
palace and across the quadrangle to the chapel. The King walked under a
red velvet canopy, upborne by four privy councillors and four Knights
of the Elephant. The Queen walked beneath a similar canopy, upborne by
four privy councillors and four Knights of the Dannebrog.
The royal chapel was decorated with great splendour. Of this, as of
the other arrangements connected with the coronation, it was recorded:
"There was nothing lacking to make it beautiful. It was so splendid and
superb that even the foreign envoys were forced to admire the beauty
and lavish expenditure, to say nothing of the art in which these were
turned to account." The thrones of the King and Queen were placed upon
a dais, under a gorgeous canopy, upborne by two figures of angels with
drawn swords. On one side of the canopy was the King's motto, "_Gloria
ex amore patriae_," and on the other were the initials of the King
and Queen. The King's throne was of solid ivory, surmounted by a huge
amethyst nearly as large as a hen's egg. The Queen's throne was of
silver, elaborately wrought, and polished until it shone like crystal.
At the foot of the thrones lay three life-size lions in cast silver.
At the entrance to the royal chapel the King and Queen were received
by the three Bishops, who were to officiate at the ceremony of the
anointing, vested in copes of gold brocade. The Bishops first
conducted the King to his throne while the choir sang an anthem. They
then returned and led the Queen to her throne in like manner. Bishop
Harboe of Zealand preached a sermon, and then the ceremony of anointing
took place; the coronation was considered as already performed. First
the King was anointed with the holy oil, and then the Queen. The
service concluded with a _Te Deum_.
As the royal procession returned to the palace, a salute from the
ramparts was fired, and the heralds on the gate blew a loud blast on
their silver trumpets. The King and Queen received the congratulations
of their court, and then the coronation banquet took place. During
the banquet a chorale was sung by the choir, of which a verse may be
roughly translated as follows:--
And long shall it be before the sons of the North weep,
For while Christian lives, and Matilda,
There shall be nothing but joy,
And every man shall dwell in his tent in peace.
The coronation was a people's holiday, and ample provision was made for
every class to partake in the festivities. When the banquet was over
the King and Queen passed on to the balcony of the palace to look down
upon the general rejoicings. A free dinner was given to the populace,
and wine ran like water from a fountain, "red wine on the right side
and on the left white, five hogsheads of each, of which all drank who
would". In the courtyard an ox had been roasted whole, and not an ox
only, for it was stuffed with "three wethers, five lambs, eight pigs,
ten geese, twenty brace of duck, and fifty-eight brace of old (_sic_)
hens". The roasted ox reposed upon a carriage painted red, and its
horns were gilt.
"The moment their Majesties appeared on the balcony," continues the
chronicle, "the fountain of wine was set running, and the ox was
wheeled forward, pulled by eighteen sailors in white breeches and
jackets, with sashes of red, and wreaths upon their heads. On either
side of the ox-carriage more sailors walked, similarly attired, and
carried baskets of bread. The Quarter-master-Sergeant then ascended the
ox-carriage and cried in a loud voice: 'The roast ox will now be given
away!' and he threw to the crowd a number of silver pieces. With shouts
of delight the people rushed forward and scrambled for money, food
and wine. The feasting and revelry that followed occupied a countless
number of the poor all that evening and the greater part of the night,
so delighted were they. Their Majesties took great pleasure in watching
the tumult from the balcony of the Christiansborg."
CHAPTER VIII.
AT THE COURT OF DENMARK.
1767-1768.
The relations between the King and Queen did not improve as time went
on. Matilda was frightened by Christian's wildness and dissipation,
piqued by his indifference, and wounded by his sarcasms. Though she
was very young she had a high spirit, and did not submit quietly to
insult. Her position at the court, of which she was nominally the
reigning Queen, was very unsatisfactory--the King was autocrat and she
was nothing--even in trifling questions concerning the royal household
she was not consulted, and if she ventured to express an opinion it
was ignored. She had no relative to whom she could look for guidance.
The Queen-Mother, Sophia Magdalena, had retired to Hirschholm; she was
nearly seventy years old, and since the fall of Moltke had abjured
politics and given herself up to good works. The Queen-Dowager, Juliana
Maria, was secretly hostile, and Matilda did not trust her, though the
three Queens at this time, as Reverdil says, lived outwardly "_dans
une grande intimité et dans un ennui paisible_". The King's sister,
the Princess Louise, was too much absorbed in her husband and child
to be of any use to her sister-in-law, and the King's aunt, Charlotte
Amelia, had never appeared at court since Matilda arrived in Denmark.
So the young Queen had to seek the advice of her chief lady, Madame de
Plessen, and she was guided by her in all things. It was the wish of
this lady to bring back to the lax court of Christian VII. the stiff
and wearisome etiquette that had prevailed in the reign of the King's
grandfather, Christian VI. In her eyes Matilda was not only a young
married woman, but the Queen of the land, whom the King himself might
only approach according to the rules of etiquette. Christian must be
made to understand that Queen Matilda was his honoured consort, and not
his mistress.
It is possible that, had the young couple been left to themselves, they
would in time have understood one another better, and learned to make
allowances for each other. They were little more than children when
they married, and quarrelled like children; they would probably have
been reconciled afterwards like children, and become better friends.
But they were not left to themselves. Madame de Plessen chose to stand
between husband and wife in their most intimate relations, and with
disastrous results. She was especially to blame in embittering the
Queen's mind against the King by repeating every thoughtless utterance
of his, and magnifying every foolish deed. In Madame de Plessen's
opinion the Queen could only acquire an influence over her husband by
treating him with coldness, and resisting his advances. The ladies
of the court were ready to throw themselves into the King's arms at
the least provocation--not that he ever gave them any--and Madame
de Plessen thought that he would value most what it was not easy to
obtain. In pursuance of this policy she advised the Queen to treat
him with coyness and reserve. For instance, the King came unannounced
one morning into the Queen's room while she was dressing. A kerchief
had just been placed around her neck; the King pushed it aside and
pressed a kiss upon his wife's shoulder. Whereupon Madame de Plessen
held up her hands in disgust, and the Queen, taking her cue from the
duenna, feigned anger, and reproached her husband for disarranging her
kerchief. The King snatched it off her bosom, tore it in pieces, and
threw it on the floor. He did not come back for several days.
Again, Madame de Plessen was annoyed because the King sent in the
evening to know if the Queen had retired to bed; she considered it
wanting in respect to the Queen, and advised Matilda to put a stop to
it. The next time the King sent to make his inquiry, the answer was
returned that her Majesty was playing chess and would not retire until
her game was finished. The King waited until twelve o'clock, and then
he came into the Queen's apartments and found her still playing chess
with Madame de Plessen. Very much annoyed he began to walk up and down
the room without saying a word, and the game was not finished until
the clock struck one. The Queen then said she wished to have her
revenge, and he saw Madame de Plessen give a triumphant smile. Then he
understood what was meant. He left the room in a fury, and banged the
door after him, and did not come near the Queen again for a fortnight.
There were many such scenes as these, and each one left the relations
between the King and Queen more strained than before, until within a
year of their marriage they were thoroughly alienated from one another.
The immediate result of Madame de Plessen's interference was to drive
the King still further into dissipation and folly. Prevented from
enjoying his wife's society as he would, he spent his evenings with
his friends, who included the wildest spirits of the court. The King's
evening parties, which he held in his own rooms, had long ceased to
bear even a superficial resemblance to the celebrated gatherings of
Frederick the Great; they assumed by degrees a more and more noisy and
riotous character. The young men indulged in sham fights and wrestling
to develop the King's "smartness"--this was the word he used to denote
his physical strength. These fights, indulged in after plentiful
libations of wine, often proved destructive of the furniture, and
sometimes ended in high words and bad temper. But the fighting was
comparatively harmless. The King's evening gatherings unfortunately did
not stop here, but degenerated into excesses which recalled the orgies
described in the pages of Juvenal and Petronius. Even Sperling seems
to have found these dissipations too much for him. At any rate he
gradually lost the King's favour, and was replaced by Brandt, a page of
the chamber.
Enevold Brandt was a few years older than Christian VII. He came of
an ancient Danish family: his father had been a privy councillor and
private secretary to Queen Sophia Magdalena, but he died before his
son's birth. His mother married again Baron Söhlenthal, and young
Brandt was brought up in his stepfather's house. At an early age he
went to Copenhagen to study law, and passed his examinations with
flying colours. In his vacations Brandt travelled widely: he was a
polished man of the world and possessed brilliant social qualities.
Christian VII., who was clever enough to appreciate cleverness in
others, took a great fancy to him, for a time. Honours, both legal
and courtly, were showered upon him. He was appointed an assessor of
the Court of Chancery, a page of the chamber, and an assessor of the
Supreme Court. Brandt was below the middle height, and though his face
could not be described as handsome, he had an air of distinction. After
Christian's accession he was a good deal about the person of the King,
and was of great use in arranging the masquerades. It was thought that
he would succeed Sperling as the King's first favourite, but Christian
quickly tired of his friends, and as soon as the masquerades were over
Brandt found himself eclipsed in the royal favour by Holck.
Conrad, Count Holck, despite his wildness and extravagancies, was the
best of Christian VII.'s favourites (and bad was the best). Unlike
Sperling and Brandt, he was neither an intriguer nor a self-seeker.
He was a dare-devil youth, wealthy, handsome, and brimming over with
boisterous good-humour and animal spirits. Christian VII. found Holck
an excellent foil for the dark moods and the morbid humours that
occasionally beset him, and the pair soon became fast friends.
Brandt and Holck were always at the King's evening gatherings, and
sought to outvie one another in their master's favour by proposing
fresh extravagancies. There were many others; among them a young
Englishman named Osborne, who held a commission in the Danish service,
Count Danneskjold-Laurvig, and some older men, including Saldern
the Russian envoy. By way of variety the King resumed his nocturnal
expeditions, which he had abandoned s
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