In the meanwhile, the preparations for carrying out the plan of the conspirators were being made very silently. The grenadier company of Colonel Köller's Holstein regiment had the guard, on this day, at the palace, together with a troop of the Seeland dragoons, commanded by Von Eickstedt. The military charge of the palace was, consequently, confided to two of the accomplices. At nine in the evening, Colonel Eickstedt entered the stables of the corps de garde, and inquired of the stable-sentry whether Lieutenant Schlemann, the officer of the day, was in his room.

"Yes," the dragoon answered; "does your excellency wish me to call him?"

"No," the colonel said at first, so as not to betray the fact that he had solely come to speak to this officer. But after pretending to remember something, he turned again to the sentry, with the remark:

"By the way, you can tell the lieutenant that I am here."

Soon after, the lieutenant came down into the stable from the officers' guard-room.

"I see," the colonel addressed him, "that all your horses are saddled. Have you received orders to that effect?"

"No, I did it on my own responsibility," the lieutenant replied. "I was afraid lest the mob might employ this evening in making unpleasant riots, and hence I wished to be in readiness to move at once. Still, if you command it, I will give the order to unsaddle."

As Eickstedt naturally did not desire this, but was quite satisfied with the lieutenant's precaution, he ordered the latter to keep all the horses saddled throughout the night. After the lieutenant had accompanied his commanding officer to the gates, he was about to retire, but Eickstedt gave him a nod, and whispered to him to come to his apartments precisely at half-past three in the morning; he would then find the door open, but must not pass Colonel Falckenskjold's quarters, or drop a word to a single being of what he (Eickstedt) had just intimated to him.

The entire plot, however, all but failed owing to Rantzau's vacillation. This man, upon whose courage, fidelity, and secrecy no reliance could be placed, determined not only to withdraw his assistance from the party in which he had enlisted, but to reveal the whole conspiracy. At eight o'clock on the evening before the ball, he drove to the house of Justiz-rath Struensee. When he was told here that the Justiz-rath had not yet returned from a dinner party, he urged the servant to inform his master directly he returned home that Count Rantzau desired a visit from him as soon as possible. The count had hardly driven away, when the Justiz-rath arrived, and the servant delivered the message.

"The count is always in such a hurry about trifles," the minister's brother answered, "that the visit will safely keep till to-morrow morning."

He therefore deferred the visit, and dressed himself for the masquerade ball.

An apparently so insignificant occurrence decided the happiness and existence of numerous persons and the fate of the whole monarchy for twelve long years!

Rantzau went home, and sent to tell Colonel Köller that an attack of gout prevented him from keeping his appointment as agreed. In order to support the deception, he even had his feet wrapped up in flannel. The count resided in a royal mansion called the Palace, separated from Christiansborg by a ditch. The conspirators were in a state of great alarm, and sent off Beringskjold to the count. When Rantzau appealed to the state of his feet, the envoy suggested a sedan-chair, and on the count still persisting, he delivered the ultimatum from Köller that he would have him fetched by grenadiers if he did not come. This threat was effectual, and Rantzau appeared at the meeting-place, being conveyed to it by two grenadiers of the guard in a chair.

The ball was over at about half-past two, and profound silence prevailed in the palace. The conspirators alone did not sleep.

The two commandants, Eickstedt and Köller, took care that the garrison and palace guards should be held in readiness for any event. When Lieutenant Schlemann kept his appointment with Colonel von Eickstedt, he found there Von Rönpstorff, the major of the regiment, who had several lieutenants awakened. When these officers arrived, Eickstedt lighted a candle, placed it under the table, and read to the meeting by this mystic illumination an order signed by the queen dowager and the hereditary prince.

This usurped order from persons who, in spite of their royal position, had not the slightest right to command the garrison troops, was to the effect that the king, having been hitherto surrounded by several bad people, the two exalted signers of the secret order commanded Colonels von Köller and Von Eickstedt to seize on the same night the Counts Struensee and Brandt, and several other persons named, and also to place the commandant, Major-General von Gude, under arrest. In this way the two chief actors secured the perfect fidelity of all the persons connected with them. After Eickstedt had read this precious document, which was drawn up by Guldberg, he warned the officers to be on the watch, and promised them to be himself at the spot where the greater danger was. He ordered the officer of the dragoon picket to have the horses bitted in the greatest secrecy, to advance at half-past three in the morning, to occupy all the entrances, and to allow no one to go in or out. He must try at first to keep them back politely, but if kindness did not avail, he must employ violence, if necessary, in effecting this.

About the same hour, Colonel Köller went the rounds of the city guards, and took the officers of the day with him to the captain's guard-room at the palace. Here he stated to them that he had received orders to arrest Counts Struensee and Brandt and several others, and that he felt assured of having their aid in doing so, if he required it; after which the officers returned to their posts.

Everything was perfectly quiet in the palace, when, at four o'clock A.M., the hereditary prince, Guldberg, Rantzau, Eickstedt, Köller, and the ex-valet Jessen, assembled in the rooms of the queen dowager. After Guldberg had shortly repeated here all they had arranged, and offered up a prayer, the conspirators, guided by Jessen, went along dark passages to the king's apartments, forced their way into the bedroom of the valet Brieghil, aroused him, and induced him to follow them. As they found the right entrance to the king's sleeping apartment locked, they were obliged to go round by the secret staircase. Brieghil went in front, and behind him came Guldberg, carrying a candle in each hand.

When Juliana Maria, surrounded by her companions, approached the king's bed, the latter woke, sprang up with a start of terror, and asked, timidly, on seeing so many persons assembled in his bedroom in the middle of the night, what they wanted with him? The queen dowager replied:

"My son, your Majesty, do not be frightened. You do not see us here as enemies, but as your true friends; and we have come——"

Here she began to shed abundant tears. Rantzau had agreed to be spokesman, but now held back, and Köller was obliged to thrust him forward. Thus forced, he at length said to the king that his Majesty's mother and brother had come to liberate him and the country.

After this, the stepmother went up to the bed, embraced the king, and repeated what Rantzau had just said. Almost fainting from terror, the poor weak king asked for a glass of water, and when he had drunk it, merely remarked that Rantzau had told him Eickstedt was there too. The latter stepped forward and confirmed Rantzau's statement, with the addition that the people were in a state of revolt, for a design was being carried on against his Majesty and his government, in which Struensee and the queen were the leaders.

When Christian heard the name of Matilda, he refused to place any credence in the affair, but Juliana Maria assured him of the truth, and Guldberg confirmed it. Rantzau then pulled out of his pocket the orders already drawn up, and laid them before the king to sign, upon which Christian exclaimed:

"My God! this will cost streams of blood!" Rantzau answered:

"Your Majesty may be of good cheer; with the help of the Almighty, I take everything upon myself, and will, as far as possible, prevent danger."

Pen and ink were produced, and the weak king was induced to sign two orders, whose contents his stepmother explained to him. By the first, Eickstedt was made a major-general and commandant of the city; by the second, Eickstedt and Köller received full powers to take all the measures necessary for the preservation of the king and the country.

After the king had signed these documents while still in bed, and the hereditary prince countersigned them, the former expressed a wish to get up. When he was dressed, the queen dowager, her son, and Guldberg led the king to the prince's apartments. Here he remained for some hours, and they were employed in inducing him to write a note to his consort, from Juliana Maria's dictation, which contained the following absurd words:—

"Comme vous n'avez pas voulu suivre les bons conseils, ce n'est pas ma faute, si je me trouve obligé de vous faire conduire à Kronenbourg."

After this, the king signed fifteen different orders, drawn up by Guldberg, which decided the fate of no less than seventeen persons. These were in turn: Count Struensee, Count Brandt, Professor Struensee, Lieutenant Struensee, Chamberlain Colonel von Falckenskjold, Lieutenant-General von Gähler, Frau von Gähler, Major-General Gude, Lieutenant-Colonel von Hesselberg, Equerry Baron von Bülow, Rear-Admiral Hansen, Etats-rath Willebrand, Lieutenant Abö, Cabinet Secretary von Zoëga, the Intendant Martini, and Panning, Count Struensee's private secretary. When this was completed, the king, animated by the sweet thought of doing injury, by the flattering idea of being delivered from Brandt for ever, and by the remote hope of shedding blood, spent the rest of the morning in drawing up the requisite orders. Those which concerned the queen, such as the order to Rantzau to arrest her, another to the commandant of Kronborg, where she was to be taken, and the order to the intendant of the court to provide the carriages, the king copied himself from Guldberg's minutes the others he merely signed.[39]

While all this was going on in the royal apartments, Eickstedt placed himself at the head of a troop of dragoons in order to inform all officers on duty of his new dignity, strengthened the palace guard with forty gunners, and then had all the gates of the fortress closed.[40]

CHAPTER V.

"Yes; I know very well who you are. You are a count and a cabinet minister; but now you are my prisoner."

Struensee requested to see the royal warrant, but as Köller did not possess this, he said:

"I cannot show you any written order; but I am answerable with my head that the order to arrest you was given me by the king."

Still, the count refused to surrender; so Köller placed his sword-point against his chest, and said very seriously: "I have orders to take you either dead or alive." Struensee sank back, fainting, on a sofa. When he recovered, he asked for a cup of chocolate, which was refused him. The colonel advised him to make haste and get out of the palace before daybreak, as otherwise he could not protect him against the infuriated populace.

Moved by these arguments, Struensee proceeded to dress himself, and was so unprepared for the event, that he only had the masquerade dress which he had so recently taken off. He was obliged, therefore, to put on the pink domino breeches, but was allowed to take his furs, as the weather was bitterly cold. Bound hand and foot, the late omnipotent minister was dragged to a coach, and conveyed, under a powerful escort, to the citadel. As he got into the coach, he groaned, "Great God, what crime have I committed?" When he got out of the coach again, he requested that a trifle might be given the driver, and Köller handed the latter a dollar. The driver expressed his thanks, but said, in good Danish, "I would have done it for nothing."

Struensee was then conducted to the commandant of the citadel, in whose presence he cursed terribly, till he was ordered to be silent. He was taken by the commandant's orders to the cell in which a notorious pirate of the name of Norcross had been confined for a long time. On entering it, he opened his eyes very wide, and said to the officer, "Where are my valets?" The answer was, "I did not see any of your valets following you." "But my secretary?"—"He is not here either." "I must have my furs; confound it, it is cold here, and I have no wish to be frozen to death." On seeing a wretched wooden chair, he exclaimed, "What is the meaning of this chair? bring me my sofa." The officer replied, with a frosty look, "There is nothing at your service here, sir, but a night commode." On receiving this answer the prisoner burst into an awful rage, and ran with his head against the wall to dash out his brains; but the watch prevented his design. On the commandant being informed of this, he ordered Struensee to be laid in chains, which hurt him more than all the other treatment, and he passionately cried, "I am treated en canaille."[41]

The simultaneous arrest of Count Brandt was confided to a turncoat and now zealous accomplice of the conspirators, Colonel von Sames, ex-commandant of Copenhagen. Formerly an admirer of Struensee, he had joined the minister's enemies after his own enforced retirement to make way for Major-General von Gude, and was now anxious to regain the favour of the new government. Accompanied by a guard, he crept to Brandt's apartments, but found the door locked. On Sames threatening to burst it open with the butt-ends of muskets unless it were opened to allow him to execute a royal order, Brandt at length turned the key, but met the intruders with his drawn sword. When the guard, however, made preparations to disarm him, he threw his sword away, remarking:

"This must be a mistake. I am a minister of state, and have committed no crime for which I can be arrested."

The officer observed that it was no error, and begged him to yield. He did so, with the words: "Eh bien, monsieur, je vous suivrai tranquillement."

He was also conveyed to the citadel in a coach; and on entering the quarters of the commandant, said to him:

"Do not be angry, sir, at my disturbing you at so early an hour."

"Not at all, sir," the commandant replied; "we have been expecting you here for a long time."

After this, Count Brandt walked up and down the room several times; looked about him; hummed an Italian air; and at length said:

"On my soul, there are fine apartments in this castle;" to which the commandant replied, with very bloodthirsty humour:

"Yes, sir; but you will have an opportunity of seeing finer ones."

A few minutes after, Brandt's cell was shown him. It was very dark; and, on entering it, he said good-humouredly to his companions: "On my word, the commandant spoke the truth." Even though chained like Struensee, Brandt retained his firmness; amused himself with playing the flute; and generally showed a much sturdier character than the wretched Struensee.

After the new city commandant, Von Eickstedt, had provided for the safety of the king, and given his commands at the main guard, he rode, accompanied by Colonel von Arnsdorff and a lieutenant, at five o'clock in the morning, to the new barracks, for the purpose of arresting Colonel von Falckenskjold and his friend, Lieutenant-Colonel von Hesselberg, who were quartered there. After entering the colonel's room, Eickstedt awoke him, and expressed his regret at being forced to arrest a brother officer; then he read aloud his own appointment as commandant, and the warrant, and handed Falckenskjold the papers for his inspection. The prisoner carefully examined the order, and the king and prince's signatures, and believed he had discovered that both the order and the signatures were in Eickstedt's own handwriting.[42] Still, we can hardly think that the conspirators would have ventured upon such audacity; but it may be fairly assumed that the signature of the king, who was frightened to death, was as illegible as that of the counter-signer with the uneasy conscience. After Eickstedt had expressed some alarm about the temper of the regiment, with which their colonel was a great favourite, and Falckenskjold had calmed him, he quitted the colonel, leaving a lieutenant and a sergeant to guard him.

On January 21, at eleven o'clock at night, a major and eight or ten subalterns rushed into Falckenskjold's bedroom, made him get up, and transferred him to the navy prison, intended for the vilest criminals. The cell was reached by a narrow flight of stairs, and the interior was not more than ten feet square. An officer constantly remained with the prisoner, who was compelled to sleep on the boards. As he was not allowed any knives, he was obliged to tear his food with his fingers. At first, he was allowed to keep his tooth-powder and some tea; but shortly after, he was deprived of them, as they might be poisoned.

Eight days after, Falckenskjold was transferred to a large room, which it was impossible to warm, and stopped here for weeks, till he was brought before the commission of investigation, and his unhappy fate eventually decided.

While Eickstedt was carrying out his task, Major von Rönpstorff rode to the deposed town commandant in order to put him under arrest, and take away the keys of the fortress, which were delivered to the first bürgermeister, Matthiesen, as the victorious party placed no confidence in the chief president, Von Holstein. From this house, the major went to Justiz-rath Struensee, whom he also arrested, and conveyed to the citadel. At the same time, Professor Berger was also arrested by Lieutenant von Eyben. The remainder were placed under house arrest, and had sentries posted over them, with the exception of Von Bülow, whose word of honour not to leave the house was considered sufficient.

Colonel von Köller undertook the task of arresting Lieutenant-General Gähler and his wife. The latter jumped out of bed in her night-dress, and tried to escape by the back-stairs; but she found them invested by two dragoons, and she was removed, with her husband, to the citadel. Councillor of Legation Sturtz also stood on the lists of proscription, as a partisan of Struensee, but was not arrested till some time later, when he fancied himself too secure. The domestics of Counts Struensee and Brandt were put into the Blue Tower, which was usually employed as a debtors' prison.

It was half-past eight o'clock A.M., when all these imprisonments had been carried out. But the most revolting scene in this palace revolution had been going on, in the meanwhile, at the Christiansborg.

Supplied with the note in the king's handwriting, and backed up by three lieutenants, Beck, Oldenborg, and Bay, Count zu Rantzau-Ascheberg proceeded to the apartments of the reigning queen, Caroline Matilda, entered the ante-chamber, and tried to get into the bedroom, but found the door locked. The queen was aroused by the disturbance, and summoned her women. They hurried to her; and the queen saw fear and terror in their faces.

"What is the matter?" she asked; but the women were silent. She repeated the question, and received the reply that Rantzau was in the ante-room with several officers, and was asking admission in the king's name. The queen sprang out of bed in alarm, and threw on a few articles of clothing.

"Make haste and summon Struensee, he must come directly," she ordered her women; but they replied that the count had already been removed.

"Betrayed! lost! eternally lost!" the queen exclaimed, with an outburst of despair. "Well," she continued, after a little reflection, "let them come in, the traitors, I am prepared for everything."

When the doors were opened by the women, the queen walked boldly toward the persons entering, and asked them what they wanted. Moved by the young queen's decided behaviour, Rantzau gave her a low bow, then said that he had come by the king's order, read her her consort's note, and handed it to her. She took it, and read it through without displaying any alarm; but then threw it disdainfully on the ground, and trampled upon it.

"Ha!" she said, "in that I recognise the traitors and the king."

Rantzau implored her to submit to the king's orders.

"Orders!" she exclaimed, contemptuously; "orders about which he knows nothing, and which the most shameful treachery has extorted from his imbecility. No, a queen does not obey such commands."

Rantzau looked serious, and said that his duty admitted of no delay.

"I will obey no orders till I have seen the king," the queen answered him; "let me go to him: I must—I will speak to him."

And she advanced some steps toward the door: but Rantzau stepped before her with heightened anger, and his entreaties became menaces.

"Villain!" the impassioned queen cried to him, "is that the language of a servant to his monarch? Go, most contemptible of men. Go, you are loaded with shame and disgrace, but I am not afraid of you."

These words from the dauntless young queen infuriated the haughty Rantzau, but he did not dare to carry out his ruffianly orders by seizing the brave princess: hence he gave his comrades an imperious glance to interfere. The boldest of the three advanced and seized the queen round the waist, but she tore herself away from him, shrieked for assistance as loudly as she could, and hastened along the passage to the secret stairs; but her women held her back, and said:

"Your Majesty cannot pass out, for all the doors are guarded by sentries, and no one will listen to your cry for help."

Left alone with four armed soldiers, and rendered desperate by anger and shame, the unfortunate princess rushed to a window, tore it open, and was about to hurl herself out, but an officer seized her round the waist and held her back by force. Beside herself with passion, she seized the impudent man by the hair, and struggled with him alone, when another of the officers had to assist his comrade against a defenceless woman. She resisted him as well, and, though half naked, continued the struggle with the courage of despair, till she at length fell back in a fainting state. Rantzau watched this scene with great gusto, and when the women brought their mistress round again, he ordered them to conduct her into an adjoining room, and dress her, while he sent for Count von der Osten, who might induce her to yield.

Although this practised diplomatist was acquainted with all the facts of the conspiracy, he had refrained from taking any active part in it. Now, however, that he knew Struensee and Brandt were safe in the citadel, he accepted Rantzau's invitation the more willingly, because he at once saw that the revolution could only be carried through by the queen's overthrow. By his quiet and sensible representations he at length succeeded in persuading the now weeping queen to yield compliance.

"Je n'ai rien fait: le roi sera juste," she said quietly, in the consciousness of her innocence; but then she became more impetuous, and declared to the count that she would not move a step from the spot unless she were allowed to take her children with her. The diplomatist, however, succeeded in making her comprehend that the prince royal must not be removed, and the poor mother at length agreed that she would only take with her the little princess, whom she was herself suckling.[43]

At length the preparations for departure were completed, and Fräulein von Mösting, one of the ladies-in-waiting, came in to accompany the queen. Rantzau and two officers followed their prisoner to the coaches held in readiness for her in the back yard of the palace. On the stairs, Rantzau offered her his hand to conduct her down, but she repulsed it with disgust, and exclaimed: "Loin avec vous, traître! Je vous déteste!" She then walked alone to the carriage, and entered it. Fräulein von Mösting seated herself by her side, and a bed-chamber woman opposite to her, but the fourth seat was occupied by Major von Carstenskjold,[44] of Eickstedt's dragoons, with his drawn sabre. In the second coach followed the nurse with the little Princess Louisa Augusta, and two of the queen's attendants. The carriages were guarded by thirty dragoons, and Queen Caroline Matilda bade an eternal farewell to her capital and her palace.

During the tedious journey to the fortress, the queen remained in profound sorrow, and did not utter a word: but when the coach drove through the gloomy archway into the yard of the fortress of Kronborg, she started up, and said in a lamentable voice: "Great God! it is all over with me. The king has deserted me!"

When she left the carriage and attempted to ascend the stairs, the unhappy queen's strength failed her, and she was carried up to a sleeping apartment, in order to be laid on a bed. On seeing the couch, however, she shrieked: "Away! away from here! There is no rest for the miserable, no rest for me any more!"

She was seated in an easy-chair; heavy sighs burst from her oppressed bosom; her whole body seemed bowed down by the weight of sorrow, till at length she found tears to relieve her.

"Thanks, Heaven, thanks!" she fervently exclaimed; "that consolation comes from Thee, and it is the only one of which my enemies cannot rob me."

She heard her daughter's voice and flew to her.

"You, too, here! dear, innocent creature! Oh, in that case your poor mother is not utterly wretched."

And the queen clasped the child to her breast, and then seated it in her lap. Two days elapsed ere the unfortunate queen could be induced to take any food, and lie down on a bed; then, she gradually regained her calmness, and accepted her fate more patiently.

It seemed as if the victorious queen dowager studied every occasion by which she could humiliate her victim. Caroline Matilda was not even allowed to have the necessary clothes to appear with decency, and to prepare herself against the severity of the weather; she was conveyed to Kronborg not like a state prisoner, but with all the marks of contempt shown to the worst offenders. A queen, whose personal charms would have melted the heart of a ruffian, was scarcely allowed in this inhospitable fortress what is requisite to support nature, and not indulged with more conveniences in her apartments than those granted to the lowest criminals. She was treated, during the earlier part of her captivity, with great indignity by her unfeeling keepers and an insolent soldiery, and confined in rooms which would have hardly been allotted to her favourite dogs in the days of her prosperity.[45]

After the queen dowager had been informed by Von der Osten of the successful removal of Caroline Matilda, the conspirators at once set to work completing the affair they had begun. In the first place, it was considered necessary to make the king go through a scene, which would convince him that everything that had been as yet effected, met with the approval of the multitude.

The constant driving, and the galloping of dragoons through the streets at an early hour, aroused attention and apprehension among the townspeople: for the conspirators had taken care that in the last days the most dangerous rumours of attempts on the king's life should be propagated. At length, the terrible events of the last hours oozed out. The town captain, Treld, appeared in the streets, and when he was asked what was to be done, he answered: "What else, but shout huzzah that everything has succeeded!" The mob now burst into an universal shout of "Long live King Christian VII.;" and several voices were heard applauding the queen dowager and Prince Frederick. After this, the masses flocked to the palace, and at 10 A.M. the king, followed by his brother, stepped out on the balcony, while the old queen showed herself at the window in négligée. The king waved his pocket-handkerchief, and when the populace responded to this salute by a deafening shout, he joined in, and hurrahed to his dear people, who were offering him such enthusiastic thanks for the heroic deed he had just carried out.

A few hours later, the king, splendidly dressed, and accompanied by his brother, entered a state-coach drawn by eight white horses, and drove through the city, to show himself to his people. The throng was so great, that the carriage could hardly pass, and many, in their delight, proposed to take out the horses and drag the king themselves. They drove slowly through all the principal streets: Prince Frederick had let down the window on his side, seemed greatly delighted, and bowed incessantly to the surging crowd, and the windows crowded with ladies and gentlemen. The king, however, as usual, kept his window up, and stared indifferently at the crowd: loud shouts of joy were raised in all the houses which the royal procession passed. The ladies expressed their delight by waving their handkerchiefs; some of them even pulled off their caps and shook them in the air, in order to testify their enthusiasm at the incomparable felicity of seeing their beloved sovereign, who had escaped from the mighty peril with which he had been menaced by Struensee and Queen Caroline Matilda.

When the drive was over, and the king and prince returned to the Christiansborg, the whole victorious party had assembled at court, to offer their congratulations to the three royal personages on the successful overthrow of the "Cabal," as they deigned to christen the defeated party. But the king only made his appearance in company for a moment.

After dinner the king, the old queen and the prince, went to the French play, where they all sat in the royal box, and were received with universal rejoicings when they entered. The whole city was illuminated, the townspeople nearly all turned out in their Sunday clothes, salvoes were fired from the ramparts, rockets were discharged, and the whole population seemed drunk with joy.

But the people, once unchained, were not satisfied with mere rejoicings, and hence soon turned the seamy side of their character outwards. The public regarded Esther Gabel, one of the queen's waiting-women, as Struensee's mistress. This girl's father had purchased Count Schulin's house, situated in one of the most frequented streets, and by the cabinet minister's orders, and partly at his expense, it was said, had converted it into a public establishment for balls, concerts, and assemblies, with a splendour hitherto unknown in Denmark. Struensee's enemies, however, spread a report that the minister had engaged fifteen pretty English girls to wait on the guests, and the portraits of these girls were hung up to attract the visitors. Toward evening, when the streets were crowded, a man, wearing a gold-laced hat, stopped in front of this house, drew his sword, and shouted to the people as he smashed the lamps: "This house, the English b——, is given up." Scarce had this man—it was Beringskjold—given these instructions, when the mob rushed into the house, destroyed or carried off all the furniture and valuables in it, and smashed every pane of glass. In the upper floor of the large building there still remained a portion of Count Schulin's library, which was afterwards valued at 8,000 dollars, and this now perished, or was stolen. In the cellar was a large stock of spirits; the furious mob naturally forced their way into it, drank what they pleased, and then staved all the wine and rum casks, so that they waded up to the ankles in liquor, and afterwards it took a day and a half to pump the cellar dry.

After these desperadoes had finished their barbarous job, and had done damage to the amount of 40,000 species dollars, though without finding the fifteen English beauties, they attacked the "Jungfern Comptoire," which were scattered over the city, and employed for improper purposes: in a few hours only the bare walls remained of these houses, which were sixty in number. The unfortunate girls found in them were dragged into the streets by the hair or legs, and treated with the most cruel brutality.[46]

In order to check the mischief, the head of the police at once asked Eickstedt for dragoons to drive out the ruffians. But the court were of a different opinion. They were afraid that the interference of the military might entail loss of life, and they did not wish to overcloud so glorious a day as January 17 had been. Therefore, instead of the dragoons, a Herr von Bülow, page of Prince Frederick, was sent to the mob, with instructions to offer them the king's thanks for the devotion displayed toward his house upon the abolition of Struensee's despotism, and to promise that the king would henceforth reign to the general satisfaction, and especially remember the sailors. The king, however, ordered that every one should now go quietly home. But the envoy had scarce ended the first part of his address to the people, when Beringskjold shouted in a stentorian voice: "There, you hear, the king thanks you for destroying this —— house. So to work again!"

An attempt of the mob to get hold of Struensee's state-coach, which was valued at 6,000 dollars, was prevented by the palace guard. The intention of destroying the house of the chief of the police was also foiled. They had set to work about it, when a respected dockyard official forced his way into the mob and induced them to desist, by making himself responsible for this man's right sentiments. It was not till the crowd made preparations to plunder the Mont de Piété that Eickstedt's dragoons dispersed them. On the next day, patrols of the line, the bürger guard and the marines, paraded the streets, in order to prevent further excesses; and in the afternoon royal heralds rode about the city, announcing that the king thanked his people for the fidelity they had displayed, but had learned, to his displeasure, that their zeal had gone too far. Hence he forbad any further excesses, and any one caught in the act might expect exemplary punishment. With this the plundering certainly ceased, but the patrolling had to be continued for a whole week, before persons and property could again enjoy perfect security. On January 23 a police order was issued that all those persons who held stolen property by purchase, or in any other way, must, under penalty of heavy fines, deliver the articles to the police officers, so that they might be returned to their rightful owners.

In the meanwhile the principal participators in the conspiracy had received their reward. Count von Rantzau-Ascheberg was requited for the brutality he had displayed toward Caroline Matilda, by his nomination as General-in-Chief of the Infantry and Knight of the Elephant. At the same time he was told that the government undertook to pay his debts.

Major-General von Eickstedt and his Pomeranian landsman, Von Köller, were promoted lieutenant-generals, and decorated with the star of the Dannebrog. Köller was also offered naturalization, with the name of an extinct illustrious noble family. He replied that, being a Pomeranian gentleman, he esteemed his own name as much as any other; but that, as he intended to devote his life to Denmark, he consented to adopt a name belonging to that country. He was, therefore, known henceforth as Köller-Banner. He was also created first aide-de-camp, with apartments in the palace, and inspector of the king's chamber.[47]

Commissary-General von Beringskjold, who, in addition to his other services, had given the signal for plundering, was rewarded with a chamberlain's key, received a pension of 2,000 dollars, and was let off a sum of nearly 40,000 species dollars, which he had been unable to pay for the crown estate he had purchased in the island of Moën. Of his two sons, the elder was appointed page, with a salary of 1,000 dollars, while the younger was promised a captaincy in the army.

All the officers of Eickstedt's and Köller's regiments, even Captain von Falckenskjold, the colonel's brother, although he had been asleep during the arrest, gained one or two steps. Jessen, the ex-valet, who had played the go-between, received a gratification of 2,000 dollars, and was honoured shortly after by the title of councillor of justice. Major von Carstenskjold, who with his drawn sabre had prevented any possible attempt at flight on the part of Caroline Matilda, from a coach surrounded by thirty dragoons, was made a lieutenant-colonel for his gallant conduct. Colonel von Sames, as he was overhead and ears in debt, received, as a reward for his altered sentiments, 10,000 dollars in cash. Lastly, Major von Rönpstorff, of the prince royal's regiment, was given his lieutenant-colonelcy for commanding the escort required for the arrests.

It is not quite clear why at the same time the well-known artillery-general, Von Huth, was appointed a general of infantry. When, at the time of the Russian war, General St. Germain was summoned to Denmark as commander-in-chief of the army, he effected the retirement of Huth, because he was afraid of so scientific a rival. Huth, consequently, retired with a pension of 2,000 dollars, and went home to Hesse. Under Struensee's government St. Germain had been recalled, but no satisfactory arrangement was made: the French general returned to Paris, and was there appointed minister of war. Immediately after, General von Huth was recalled to active service by the advice of the Landgrave Charles, with whom he was on very intimate terms; but he kept aloof from Struensee.

Guldberg, the chief councillor of the conspirators, was the only man who received no reward. But as this ostensible modesty was certainly purposed, it serves to throw light on the man who from this time governed Denmark for twelve years. He was certain of his influence, and consequently was in no hurry about personal distinctions. His clear understanding also told him, that an apparent disinterestedness would be of great advantage to him with the public.

CHAPTER VI.

The next care of the new government was the amusement of the weak-minded king, who was now a helpless tool in all matters connected with the administration. Juliana Maria proposed to him, in turn, various persons to take Brandt's place; but he continually answered "No" to all the names mentioned, until the queen dowager at last came to Von der Osten, the minister of foreign affairs. At this name the king exclaimed with pleasure, "Yes: I will have him." As this gentleman, however, did not feel at all disposed to exchange his pleasant post for the dignity of a companion to a half-childish monarch, but preferred the comforts of his own palace, Lieut.-General von Köller, Queen Juliana Maria's declared favourite, was appointed to the office. We do not know how the poor king liked this coarse soldier in the place of the polished Brandt, so intimate as he was with all the details of court life.

In order to acquire the best men of business for the new government, one of the nocturnal accomplices, Major Malleville, was sent to Privy Councillor Count Thott to invite him to take part once more in the business of the state, and a similar invitation was forwarded to Privy Councillor Schack-Rathlau and the Stifts-amtmann Scheel, who had both been removed by Struensee. The ex-premier, Count John Hartwig von Bernstorff, was also thought of: Carstens and Schumacher spoke in his favour, but Von der Osten and Rantzau were opposed to it, because both hated him. The matter was disposed of, however, by the two royal personages, who did not particularly like the count, and by Guldberg, who feared a dangerous rival in the practised statesman. Hence, neither Bernstorff nor Moltke was recalled; although among all the remaining candidates for office there was not one who possessed Bernstorff's experience in affairs of state. Conferenz-rath Shumacher was also reappointed private secretary to the king, while retaining his post as deputy in the Chancery.

On January 19, the first Sunday after Struensee's downfall, thanks were offered to Heaven from all the pulpits in Copenhagen and the vicinity for what had happened; and, of course, the sermons were filled with all kinds of allusions to the overthrown godless government. On the following Sunday, the third after Epiphany, there was, in obedience to a royal circular, a general Te Deum in the churches of the capital, and this afforded another excellent opportunity for again insulting the fallen. Instead of offering up a prayer of love and charity for the sinner, the clergymen only spoke of the "fearful vengeance of the Lord upon the godless people, as a cause for rejoicing and thanks-giving." Nor did they even spare her Majesty, who was still reigning, but poured out the vials of their wrath upon her, and were not ashamed to urge their congregations "to hate and execrate the queen."

How great the bitterness of the clergy at the freedom of religion granted in the hitherto strictly Lutheran country by Struensee must have been, is proved more clearly by the fact, that even the celebrated theologian and converter, Dr. Münter, joined in their cry. "Godless men ruled over us," he said from the pulpit of the palace chapel, "and openly defied God. They, to whom nothing was sacred, either in heaven or on earth, despised, ridiculed, and mocked the creed to which we belong. They, doubtless, were meditating violent measures, in order to secure themselves for ever. But thanks be to God, that He did not yield us up as a prey to their teeth: that He overthrew their faithless and blood-thirsty schemes (for they could not have been otherwise), and gave us tranquillity and peace again, at the moment when murder and rebellion were close at hand. Our king, to whom access was entirely precluded; for whose sacred person we often felt anxious, because we knew in what hands he was; our king is once more ours: we are again his people."[48]

It was in all probability this sermon which caused Münter to be selected to hear Struensee's last confessions and attempt his conversion.

Still, almost immediately after the catastrophe, there were respectable authors who dared unhesitatingly to oppose the zealotry of the clergy, although this was accompanied by double danger at the time. "Religion," so wrote one of them, "is employed as a cloak, for the purpose of deceiving the nation about the events that have occurred. The bought voices of clergymen who deserve punishment, mix up with praises of the Supreme Being the evident lies of calumny. Struensee was to be held up as a regicide, and the deluded people were expected to thank Heaven for saving the king from a peril which had never existed."

But what could these isolated protests effect against the fanatical fury of the priests in a time of universal excitement, when not only the new governing party gave their protection to the worst zealotry, but even other respected men took the part of the revolution in word and writing? Among all these men, none carried matters so far as the well-known historian, Suhm, who was chamberlain to the queen dowager. He published an open letter to the king, whose contents are an everlasting brand on the name of an otherwise esteemed literary man:—

"Long enough," we read in the beginning of this pamphlet, "have religion and virtue been trampled under foot among us; long enough have honesty and integrity been turned away from our frontiers. A disgraceful mob of low people had seized on the person of the king and rendered access to him impossible for every honourable man. He only saw and heard with their eyes and ears—while the country swam in tears, while the Danish land had become a name of shame, and men, when abroad, did not dare express that they belonged to it; while the rich were plundered, the sun of the royal house turned pale, and everything was given up to ignominious robbers, blasphemers, and enemies of humanity. And while all this was going on the king was cheerful and happy, in the belief that the welfare of his subjects was being promoted."

After a fulsome panegyric of the queen dowager and her son (of whom Suhm says in a foot-note: "Theologians will decide whether these names designate glorified angels or angels still living on earth"), the writer proceeds to thank all the patriots "who with firm intention helped to tear the bandage from the king's eyes which prevented him from seeing, who raised up the king and country again, risked their lives to save the land, and restored the king his true and legitimate power." After which effusion of gratitude the zealous chamberlain burst into fresh assertions: that it was the highest time for the work of salvation to be carried out, for the capital would perhaps have become within a few days the prey of the flames—one immense ruin; while Denmark and Norway might have been happy under a king who entertained the most fervent wishes for their welfare.

This famous rubbish terminated with a warning appeal to the king, "to let the blood of so many kings that flowed in his veins warm his heart, and make him look at his people himself. Thus Christian IV. and Frederick IV. had acted. But he must not allow himself to be persuaded by flatterers that he was already what those kings had been, but strive to become as they." Then came a tremendous flourish. "From God and your nation you have received the autocracy: you are, therefore, also responsible to God and the nation for the use you have made of this power. You must set bounds on your own might, by regarding God as possessing a higher authority than your own, and by choosing the worthiest man for your government: the most worthy you have in your brother.[49] You must mercifully chastise those who have some claim to be treated graciously, but punish justly and without mercy the men who have dishonoured the king and the country.... You ought to fear God, love your people, take the government into your own hands, and believe your brother."

One more passage, and I will close this pamphlet.

"Who would not praise and esteem that dangerous but honourable night! Future Homers and Virgils will sing its praises, and so long as there are any Danish and Norwegian heroes left, the glory of Juliana Maria and Frederick will endure, but cannot be augmented, as that is impossible. Sooner shall the world fall into nothingness than their glory pass away."

In such a fashion as this, an otherwise honourable and educated man ventured to address his monarch, to heap up the heaviest charges and most manifest insults on men who were imprisoned but not yet sentenced, and even went so far as to urge on the sovereign who would decide their fate the inhuman request that he should mercilessly punish them. For all that, this public letter was praised by the majority as a proof of patriotic zeal, and of worthy liberality; and Counts Bernstorff and Von Reventlow even thanked the author in writing for his patriotic deed.

Probably encouraged by praise from such high quarters, the same author issued shortly after a second pamphlet, bearing the title, "To my Countrymen: Danes, Norwegians, and Holsteiners." In it he declared that it was only a reasonable feeling "if every body hated Struensee and desired vengeance upon him; for all the nations of Europe would regard a people that allowed itself to be governed by a Struensee, as a vile and cowardly people, and not call the man a barbarian who removed such a monster."

Justiz-rath Langebeck, keeper of the archives, a well-known historian, also accused Struensee in a pamphlet, "Liberal Thoughts on the Day of Requital," of the most scandalous things, and at the same time abused the fallen party in a truly Danish fashion, selecting his complimentary titles from the infernal regions and the entire animal kingdom, calling them sometimes murder-fiends and firebrands of hell; at others, goats, apes, brute beasts, wolves, tigers, &c. "But Juliana Maria's renown would last to the end of time, and far, far surpass that of Semiramis."

A third sample of the literary cynicism prevailing at that time in Denmark was supplied by Etats-rath Tyge Rothe, ex-tutor of the hereditary prince, whom Struensee had appointed, in the first place, burgo-master, and then deputy of the finances. In a poem, bearing the title of "On the Day of January 17, 1772," which was published by order of the government, we read: "In later times the fury against divinity had been truly Pharaonic, and persons wallowed in Capreæan pleasure;" but "those men of fine mind and cool courage, possessed of strength and fiery souls—they, O people, prepared this festival for you." By such flattering terms the writer alluded to men like Rantzau, Eickstedt, Köller, and Beringskjold.

A multitude of anonymous pamphlets flooded town and country, such as "Thanksgiving of the twin Kingdoms," "Evening Thoughts upon the 17th of January—a Day so memorable for both Kingdoms," "The Hymn of Victory of the Copenhagen Citizens," "The Joy of the Israelites at their Liberation from the Claws of Haman," &c. In all these miserable pamphlets Struensee was represented as "the great northern thief," "Apollyon, or the great dragon," "the ex-barber and traitor," whose crimes and misdeeds were so horrible that they "could not be sufficiently punished by blows, or by sulphur, tar, or the executioner's sword."[50]

The amusements of the court were in no way interrupted by the events that had occurred, although the previous behaviour had been discovered to be so godless. Accompanied by his brother, or, speaking correctly, under his charge, the weak-minded king took frequent drives through the streets of the capital to Frederiksberg, and to the island of Amack; and as a great deal of snow had just fallen, sleighing parties were got up. The queen dowager, also, often drove to Frederiksberg, in order to enjoy her authority in the apartments of her overthrown rival.

As early as January 23, there was a state dinner and ball at the Christiansborg, and a Cour on the following day. These festivals were numerously attended, but especially that on January 29, the anniversary of the king's twenty-third birthday. In addition to the three royal personages, only twelve selected guests sat down to the banquet in the Rittersaal. After dinner the king proceeded with his suite to the palace theatre, where two new French vaudevilles[51] and a ballet were performed. At night there was a grand supper of seventy-five covers in the Rittersaal, to which the foreign envoys and the most distinguished of the nobility were invited. On the following day there was a masked ball at the palace, and three days after a bal paré. The royal party did not stay away from any festivity, and it was evident that they wished, by these uninterrupted revelries, to convince the king of the universal feeling of joy at what had happened. For not only did the newspapers contain frequent accounts of the amusements at court, but the king appeared at the great city theatre to witness Danish performances, which was a most unusual event.

The two boys and the young negro girl, who had formerly constituted the domestic amusements of his most gracious Majesty, were, however, removed from the palace immediately after the downfall of Struensee and Brandt. Even the king's favourite dog, Gourmand, who had a carriage for his sole use when the king travelled and a lackey to attend him; who was served with food from the king's table, and was often fed by his royal master's hand—even this dog shared the fate of the favourites, and was returned to the nobleman who had presented him to the king.

Although there was an attempt at court to lead to the belief that nothing had happened, a certain uneasy apprehension began to be felt, when it was rumoured that the lower classes were beginning to grow dissatisfied, and an almost ludicrous occurrence at the royal theatre revealed to the public the fact, that at times a guilty conscience can induce even great personages to lose their countenance.

A few evenings after the eventful January 17, while the whole court were at the French play, there was a disturbance in the upper boxes, which continually increased, and was only augmented by those who tried to restore peace. One rumour followed the other, and in the end it was even stated that the convicts had broken prison and joined their friends and the sailors, for the purpose of creating a riot and an opportunity for plundering. This news ran like wildfire from box to box, through the pit and gallery, and all the audience, royal personages and court included, were in a fearful state of excitement. All began running to the doors, in order to get out and save themselves. The king, too, rushed from his box with wild looks, the hereditary prince followed his example, and the queen-mother tried in vain to keep them back, until she, overcome by terror, fell in a fainting fit. Similar scenes took place in the other boxes, and fainting ladies might be seen everywhere. The news of the affair had reached the city by this time, and curious persons collected round the theatre and tried to force their way in against those who were pouring out, until some cooler men discovered the origin of the whole business. A woman had taken her child with her into the gallery, and the latter disturbed the more immediate spectators by crying. They began quarrelling in consequence with the nurse, and in this way a general disturbance was brought about in the upper part of the playhouse.[52]

The confusion produced by this interlude caused Biälke, the marshal of the court, to issue an order on January 23, by which, in future, children would not be allowed to be present at performances in the royal theatre, and grown-up persons would only be admitted on showing their tickets, to the amphitheatre, the pit-boxes, and the second tier. At the same time, he warned all those who wished to visit the theatre to behave themselves in the way which the presence of the royal family dictated, and not to disturb the performances by loud talking or noise. Any one who did so must expect to be refused admission to the theatre in future.

The alarm displayed by the three royal personages and their intimate adherents in the theatre, had, however, been too great and too public for them to be satisfied with the above order. Hence, police regulations were made to prevent mobs and street riots. The masters were ordered to keep their apprentices at home at night, or otherwise be responsible that no street disturbance was produced by them. Further, it was prohibited to illuminate the houses henceforth on the birthdays of the king and the prince royal. The order against sitting in pot-houses after ten o'clock, which Struensee had revoked, was again established, and everybody was warned against letting off guns and pistols in the streets, shooting rockets, or throwing crackers. The city gates, which had been left open, were now again locked at night, and this order was soon after extended to the hours of divine service. Lastly, it was ordered that the passports of all persons leaving the city must be issued by the Danish Chancery, and all house owners were requested to give immediate notice to the police of the arrival of strangers and travellers.

The persecution of Struensee's adherents, and the distribution of rewards among near and distant participators in the coup d'état were not interrupted by all these matters, and several of the deposed officials were again placed on active service.

On the days immediately following January 17th, arrests, reprimands, and dismissals occurred in rapid succession. On the 18th, Lersner, the master of the hounds, was arrested, and although he was released again soon after, it was with orders to quit Copenhagen and Danish territory within thrice twenty-four hours. He had hardly reached Roeskilde, when a government courier caught him up with orders to hurry his departure from the king's territory as much as he could.

The minister's younger brother, Lieutenant Struensee, was ordered to leave the Danish states with the same speed. As his name was his sole proven crime, and he was poor, he was given 200 dollars for his travelling expenses, and a pass as a law student, and he quitted Copenhagen at the same time as the master of the hounds. Five years after, he was permitted to reside with his parents at Schleswig, but on the condition that he must not show himself in the Danish portion of the kingdom. He afterwards received an appointment in Prussia, through the interest of his brother, the Justiz-rath, who eventually became the Prussian Minister of Finances.

Captain Charles Düval, of the Norwegian king's regiment stationed in Copenhagen, met with the same fate. As, however, he was able to prove his perfect innocence, he was recalled and given a company in the Borncholm regiment. As we have seen, Brandt employed him to engage actors in Paris for the king's playhouse; and he had been recommended to the cabinet minister as a trustworthy man. By what means the captain succeeded in cleansing himself from the stigma of trustworthiness to his late employer, is not known.

It excited attention that about the same time one of the conspirators received orders from the king to quit Copenhagen. This was the amply rewarded Beringskjold, who was commanded to select as his residence the little town of Wordingborg, at the southern extremity of Seeland, and was told that he must not leave it under the king's most serious displeasure. His offence is stated to have consisted in calling the minister of foreign affairs, Von der Osten, a rogue, because he had intrigued against Chamberlain Kragh being removed from his office of governor of Laaland, so that Beringskjold might take his place. It is probable, however, that a motive of greater weight led to his banishment from the capital. As the reward he received in cash did not satisfy him, he spread a report that he had foiled the plan of excluding the king's children from the succession to the throne, and this statement of his was repeated to the people in authority. For the fact that the queen dowager at first entertained such plans in order to elevate her beloved son to the throne, is as certain as that Guldberg opposed them, for he was sensible enough to see that such a daring scheme would be immediately followed by a protest from the nation and the foreign powers, England at their head.

Of the other arrested persons, General Gude, and the three cabinet clerks, Von Zoëga, Martini, and Panning, were soon after set at liberty, and no further measures were taken against them. Frau von Gähler, who had numerous friends, was removed from the citadel to her own house as state prisoner, while her husband remained in prison. The servants of the two counts, Struensee and Brandt, were set at liberty, as innocent creatures beneath revenge.

On the other hand, the Chief Equerry Baron von Bülow, whose pretty wife was regarded as an intriguing lady, received peremptory orders to quit the capital at once, and as the couple were compelled to stay on the road in Seeland, in order that the lady might get over her accouchement, a second order was sent after them to hurry their journey to Holstein. Herr von Bülow had drawn the hatred of the hereditary prince on himself, by giving the prince's horses a stall separated from the royal stables.

Queen Matilda's two maids of honour, Von Kalkreuth and Von Thienen, who were so devoted to their mistress, were sent off to the German duchies, and even the queen's hairdresser was compelled to quit the capital. Chamberlain von Warnstedt voluntarily went out of the way of the storm; returned to Schleswig, and was eventually appointed chief forester there.

The next man who fell under proscription was excellent Reverdil, who has supplied so much curious information about the court of Christian VII. If he had not believed in the guilt of Caroline Matilda, I should have liked him better; but as it is, I will not let him drop out of this history without giving some account of his overthrow.

At six o'clock on the morning of January 17, Reverdil heard a knocking at his door, and a voice exclaiming, "Do not be frightened; no harm will be done you; it is I, your friend, Colonel Köller." When Reverdil let him in, he handed him a note from the king to the following effect: "I shall not see you for the next few days; circumstances oblige me to this." Reverdil spent the day among his friends, picking up information, and went that night to the French play, where the royal family were present. The next morning, Köller came from the king to arrest him for disobedience of orders. The conversation between the two was capital.

"May I know what procures this arrest?"

"I do not know. How do you stand with Count Osten?"

"Neither well nor ill."

"It was he who gave me this message, as he came out of the king's cabinet."

"But what have I done since yesterday morning?"

"You went to the play; and the king, who wrote to you that he did not wish to see you, saw you there,——or might have seen you."

"Oh, come, that is impossible; he is too short-sighted; and then I was under his box; besides, I could not give that meaning to the order you brought me."

It was all of no use; Reverdil remained under arrest, in his rooms, till the 23rd, when the cabinet secretary, Shumacher, set him at liberty, and said that the king, presuming he would prefer living in his own country, was willing to pay him 1,000 dollars for his travelling expenses. Shortly after, the queen dowager requested an audience of Reverdil. When he entered the room, she said:

"I cannot tell by what mistake you were arrested. I only heard of it yesterday. I had given orders that you should not be; and last Friday, when you came to see me, I said to myself, 'At any rate, he will not be disturbed.' I only wish I could have spared the rest. But the queen had forgotten everything that she owed to her sex, birth, and rank. Still, my son and I should have refrained, had not these irregularities affected the state. The kingdom was in trouble, and going to ruin. God supported me; I felt neither alarm nor terror."

The queen dowager then spoke with some detail about her son's grievances; the insolence the favourites displayed toward him; the impenetrable secrecy he kept before the 17th; and the courage he showed in the execution. Reverdil heard from the queen one of the instances of harsh behaviour toward her son. He was fond of riding on horseback, and this exercise was necessary for his health. In rainy and snowy weather he could only satisfy this taste in the riding school. The palace one was an academy three days in the week; on the other three days it was reserved for the royal family. Queen Matilda and Struensee, since their return to Copenhagen, occupied it on these three days, and had the entrance closed against the king's brother.

Still Reverdil's liberty caused Osten and Rantzau some alarm. They both feared lest, by regaining his intimacy with the king, he might employ his credit on behalf of the prisoners. Count von der Osten, whose principal talent was espionage in the palace and intriguing with the pages and valets, was informed of Reverdil's interview with the queen dowager, and was afraid that he might re-suggest the plan of recalling to court Count von Bernstorff or Prince Charles of Hesse, with whom he maintained a correspondence. Hence Von der Osten advised Reverdil to leave "for his own sake;" and the Swiss, who was only too glad to shake off the dust of a palace, left Copenhagen about a week after.

For a while, Reverdil resided at Nyon, but eventually entered the service of the Helvetic Republic, and died in 1808, the same year when Christian VII., driven by the English out of his capital, ended his wretched existence in Rendsburg. After Reverdil's dismissal, Jacobi, whose mother was bed-chamber woman to the queen dowager, was appointed reader to the king, and Nielsen director of the king's private library.

The number of prisoners was augmented by a few other disagreeable persons, who, however, were nearly all set at liberty again. Among the latter were Gabel, the owner of the destroyed hotel, and his step-daughter. The brother of Chamberlain Falckenskjold, though he had been asleep during the revolution, and was promoted like his comrades, was obliged to put up with several days' arrest at the main guard, because he ventured to make some harsh remarks about his brother's treatment. However, he was soon after set at liberty again, and eventually rose to the rank of colonel in the army.

Legations-rath Sturtz was at first left untroubled. He had lately drawn away from Struensee, and written the latter, shortly before his arrest, a letter, in which he reproached the minister for meditating the recall of Bernstorff's pension, and pointed at the great services of the discharged minister. That Sturtz felt no apprehension on his own account upon Struensee's fall, is proved by the fact that he arranged for his marriage with the daughter of Major Mazar de la Garde to take place on January 24, and placed none of his papers in safety. But as he ventured to suggest the recall of Bernstorff to the new holders of power, he had ere long to pay dearly for this want of caution. On January 20 he was dismissed from his post with a pension of 500 dollars, and ordered to live in a small town of Seeland.