CHAPTER VIII.

STRUENSEE IN PRISON.

STRUENSEE'S CONFESSION--A HOPELESS DEFENCE--BRANDT'S FIRMNESS--DR. MUNTER--MATERIALISM--DEATH OF BERNSTORFF--A PIOUS LETTER--A ROMAN MOTHER--THE CONVERT--D'ALEMBERT--STRUENSEE'S APOLOGY--THE OTHER PRISONERS.

So soon as the privy council of state had been established and commenced its governmental functions, the examination of the state prisoners was proceeded with at the quarters of the commandant of the citadel, Lieutenant-General von Hobe. The two gates of the fortress were closed during the whole day against every one who did not reside in it; and, in the city, the garrison and bürger guard were held in readiness for any eventuality. At ten o'clock A.M. on February 20, Count Struensee was taken in the commandant's coach, and under the guard of the officer of the watch and six men, to the place of examination. He was dressed in a fur coat, which had been granted him on account of the cold; and before he was introduced to the commission, his chains were removed, and an armchair placed for him. Although very firm, generally, he was seized with a tremor when his fetters were removed, and afterwards when they were put on again at the end of each sitting.

The first examination lasted till two o'clock; it was resumed at half-past four, and continued till seven o'clock. Neither on this day nor on the next morning did Struensee make the slightest confession. He explained all the orders he had given during the last portion of his government as precautions against a popular _émeute_. He even denied having given any special order; he had merely recommended General Gude to provide effectually for the public safety. On this head, his judges had the strongest proof of his innocence in the fact that all the other prisoners, when they were arrested, believed that it was done by his orders.

As regarded the accusation of gallantry, the prisoner constantly denied it during these first three sittings, with a calmness that astonished his judges. One of them, Councillor Braëm, having used abusive language to him, Struensee exhorted him to imitate his tranquillity, adding, that the affair concerned himself more than anybody. It is stated that this same Braëm menaced him with a certain apparatus, which was ready in another room, and by means of which the truth was torn from obstinate criminals. Struensee replied, that nothing could be drawn from him by torture, seeing that he had nothing to confess or reproach himself with. If he were threatened with torture, which appears very doubtful, it was only on one occasion, for Braëm was not authorised to do so; and it is not true that the instruments were prepared.[61]

Struensee's firmness, there is little doubt, was based on an opinion which for some time past had formed his sole security; he had persuaded himself that no one would dare to attack the person of the queen, and that the closer he connected his fate with that of Caroline Matilda, the less risk he would himself run. When he learnt that his protectress was herself arrested, his firmness abandoned him: he was troubled, and burst into tears: he deplored his misfortune in attracting insults and disgrace on the persons to whom he was most attached, and, conscious of his weakness, he implored his judges to allow him to return to his prison, that he might regain his calmness, and stanch his tears. The judges were careful not to let this moment of victory slip: they pressed him more than ever; and what neither their questions nor threats could draw from the prisoner, they obtained from his weakness and emotion. He confessed that his familiarity with the queen had been carried to the fullest extent.[62]

It is more than possible that Struensee, in his terror and confusion, hoped to save his life by dragging the queen into the matter, falsely expecting thus to prevent an examination that must lead to scandal, and to escape with banishment. It is also probable that his crafty judges led him into this belief, and by insinuations induced him to betray the honour of a woman. But what man to whom honour was dear would have made such shameful confessions about a woman, which must not only dishonour her in the sight of all Europe, but infallibly cost her the throne? Whether, therefore, we should consider Struensee guilty or innocent of the crimes he confessed, his head from this moment belonged to the executioner, and by his own act he destroyed public sympathy with his fate.[63]

But Struensee degraded himself even more, if possible, by his ensuing confessions. When he had taken the first step, further avowals cost him nothing, and the whole story poured from his lips without restriction or reservation. His interrogatory affords details too precise and circumstantial to be reproduced here.[64] It results from it that the criminal relations between the queen and Struensee began in the spring of 1770, shortly before the Holstein tour.

It was important to know whether the king had kept entirely aloof from the queen, and what opinion should be formed about the legitimacy of the little princess, whom it was at first proposed to disinherit, and whom the courtiers called familiarly in January and February the "Mamselle." But the king had acknowledged her, and openly announced her birth to all the foreign courts. For this reason it was considered advisable not to stir the matter up.

When Struensee was asked who had helped the queen and him in carrying on their illicit connexion, and what confidants they had had, he replied that no one had served them in this matter, and that neither the queen nor he had confided it to any one: it was probable that he had spoken about it to Count Brandt; but he did not remember having confessed to him the exact state of affairs, as he was very cautious on this point.[65] The truth was, that the queen had first given him marks of her tenderness at a masked ball, but that their intimacy commenced at the Christiansborg Palace. To these confessions, which he attested by his signature, Struensee added:--

"He was forced to confess that through his conduct he had compromised the queen's reputation: that he was maintained in the same habits by circumstances, although he had often desired and sought means to prevent this inconvenience: that the conduct of the king and queen frequently had the effect of renewing appearances, from the fact of the queen ordering him to take steps which looked suspicious: that the king sent him to the queen at all hours, and with all sorts of messages: that the queen frequently asked for him and seized upon him, as he had already stated, proposing to him to go out with her, _tête-à-tête_, on foot, on horseback, or in a carriage: that he frequently proposed to her to take some one with them, especially females, and that for this object he encouraged several of the latter to mount their horses: that the queen had the custom of refusing everything: that he had been obliged to yield, lest he should lose her confidence: that he was thus placed in the alternative of ruining his fortunes, or succumbing to the will of the queen. In other respects he referred to the confession of the queen, as facts spoke so loudly against him, that even if he had not had culpable relations with her, appearances would condemn him."

Count Brandt was examined for the first time on February 22. He was perfectly calm, and answered the questions asked with a coolness which evidently showed that he considered himself entirely innocent. The chief charge against him naturally consisted of his assault on the sacred person of his Majesty, about which he spoke quite unreservedly, and penitently begged pardon for the insulting expressions with which he had challenged the king to wrestle.

As a reward for the explanations they had given, the two counts were allowed, on February 26, to have their six-weeks-old beards removed, which Brandt had previously attempted to do with a pair of snuffers. During this operation, the following precautions were used: the prisoner sat as far away from the wall as his chain admitted, so that he could not move one hand, while a turnkey held the other.

Struensee seems either to have made up his mind to the inevitable, or else to have accommodated himself to circumstances with remarkable easiness. He began to take his meals with something of an appetite. He breakfasted about nine, on coffee, rolls, and biscuits; at one he dined, took a glass of light wine, and a cup of coffee; drank tea about five or six, and perhaps ate a biscuit or two; he took no supper, but drank a glass of port wine and water. He was always very abstemious as to wines and spirits, at least after he was placed about the king. Everything furnished by the restaurateur for his use was carefully examined; even the bread was cut open, and the napkins shaken and held up to the light; and his meat was cut for him, as he was not allowed a knife, lest he might commit suicide.

It seems as if some remarks that were dropped during the examination soon reduced Brandt's hopes, for almost immediately after, he, by the advice of the commandant, requested the aid of a clergyman. On February 24, Hee, provost of the Navy church, was selected by the commission, and he paid the unhappy prisoner frequent visits. His exertions to convert the free-thinking count proved successful. Still the conversion did not seem to extend beyond Deism, for he would not listen to anything about the fall of man, original sin, and some other matters concerning religion.

Brandt had received an excellent education. He saw none but good examples in the house of his parents, who had chosen the best tutors to form his young heart for the fear of God. He himself was sensible of this in his prison, and assured Dean Hee that he very often had felt the power of the converting grace of God in his soul. He recollected more particularly the time when he was first admitted to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and added, that he could never forget the words of the clergyman, which made a great impression on his mind: "Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown." That he possessed an easily moved mind is proved by the fact that, in his conversations with the clergyman, he frequently burst into tears when the latter reproved him for his "former life and the depravity of his heart," and expounded to him the greatness of God's mercy. Hee was greatly troubled on hearing that so soon as his back was turned, Brandt used to relapse into his old levity. On upbraiding the prisoner with this, the latter said, humbly enough, that "it was possible such words might have escaped him, on account of the levity of his heart, but he hinted that some person or other, who wanted to bring such reports among the people, had given occasion for it, of which he made use while his heart was not upon its guard." Dr. Hee thought the best way of preventing this was by giving his penitent religious books to read, but the choice does not appear to have been very wise, for among them was "Hervey's Meditations." The tendency of this work was to render Brandt quite quiet, and the commandant spoke in the highest terms of his behaviour, which was most edifying. Still, I cannot help thinking that there was a certain amount of hypocrisy in the affair; at any rate, so long as Brandt thought there was a chance of saving his life. For instance, it seems rather _outré_ to find the prisoner frequently taking up his chains and kissing them, to which he would say, "When I believed myself to be free, I was a miserable slave to my passions; and now that I am a prisoner, truth and grace have set me at liberty." Nor should much faith be placed in his denunciations of Voltaire, with which old advocate of Shaitan he had spent four days on his travels, and had heard nothing from him (as he said) save what could corrupt the heart and sound morals. Another curious bit Dr. Hee shall tell us in his own quaint language:--

"He spoke of Struensee, and said he was a man without any religion, who, from his infancy, according to his own confession, never had any impression or feelings of it. As to himself, he assured me that, though he had been far from being virtuous, yet he always entertained a secret reverence for religion, and had spoken several times about it to Struensee, in hopes of leading him to better sentiments, but he never would hear him. It appeared to me a little odd that the blind should thus have led the blind; I therefore made no answer, thinking it might, perhaps, be his self-conceit that made him speak so, or that he wanted me to entertain a better opinion of his errors than I had reason for: hence I would not tempt him to support an untruth by defending what he had told me."

Attention was also paid to the state of Struensee's soul. At first he declined to see any clergyman, but when the confession that decided his fate had been drawn from him, his persecutors resolved to send him ghostly counsel even against his will. The choice fell, as has been stated, on Dr. Münter, at that time provost of the German Peter's church in Copenhagen.

This worthy divine has left us an account of Struensee's conversion, which everybody used to read in the last century, but is utterly forgotten now. It is invaluable, however, for a proper comprehension of Struensee's character. In every page we seem to have before us a weak, sensual man, incapable of resisting any persevering pressure; incredulous through levity, purified by misfortune, sincerely converted, feeling the same contempt for the judgment of posterity as for that of his contemporaries; badly guided at the outset by too strict a father, but possessing excellent qualities, full of forgiveness for his pitiless enemies, and perfectly resigned. Over such a character a man like Münter soon gained the upper hand: he was a theologian, but would have made a first-rate lawyer, and at the same time a passionate Christian, who, while he believed that he was only labouring to save a wretch's soul, aided his implacable foes to consummate his ruin.

On March 1, Dr. Münter paid his first visit to Struensee's prison. When the count was informed of the clergyman's arrival, he inquired whether it was ordered, and on being answered in the affirmative, he endured the presence of the doctor. He welcomed him with a sour and gloomy countenance, in the attitude of a man who was prepared to receive many severe reproaches, and with a silence that showed contempt. But so soon as the clever Münter had told him that he was well aware of his obligations toward an unhappy man, and sincerely wished to make the visits he was ordered to pay him agreeable and useful, Struensee quitted his constrained attitude, and his countenance grew more serene. He offered the doctor his hand, and thanked him for the sympathy he took in his fate. The latter, in return, gave Struensee the assurance that he would say nothing that could offend him, and begged that if accidentally in the course of conversation a word might slip from him that appeared offensive, Struensee would overlook it.

"Oh, you may say what you please," the prisoner answered.

Münter repeated his assurance that he had no other design but that of being useful to his hearer, and for that reason requested his confidence, which he (Münter) would return with the most thankful friendship, even though Struensee in the beginning might take him for a weak and prejudiced man.

Struensee was moved by this assurance, and Münter continued:--

"If you desire to receive comfort from me, who am your only friend on earth, do not cherish that unhappy thought of dying like a philosophical hero."

To which the count replied:--

"In all my adversities, I have shown firmness of mind, and, agreeably to this character I hope I shall not die like a hypocrite."

"Hypocrisy," Münter said, "in such moments would be even worse than an affected firmness, though even this would be a kind of hypocrisy. In case of death, do not trust to your old resolution and compare your former adversities, which were, perhaps, nothing but sickness and distress, with that fate which is now ready to fall on you. But, perhaps, you entertain some hopes of saving your life?"

"No," Struensee said, "I flatter myself with no hopes at all."

"But you do not see death near you," the doctor urged; "you do not know the time when you shall leave this world. Suppose I were to tell you that you were to die to-day or to-morrow, would not your courage fail you?"

Struensee was silent, and Münter implored him to turn his entire attention to the important intent of their conversation, which was to prepare him for eternity. Then he added--

"But I must expect that we are not both of the same opinion in regard to the state of man after death; yet, though you might have persuaded yourself that there is no life to come, and, consequently, neither rewards nor punishments, I cannot help thinking that there was a time when you were fully convinced of it. Your inward feelings have frequently contradicted you. The thought of eternity frightened you, though, unfortunately, you had art enough to stifle it in the birth. However, it will always be out of your power to prove that there is no eternity."

Struensee listened attentively, but would not own that he ever had any inward impressions of immortality, or had been afraid of it. Perhaps he might have been, but he did not recollect. He owned that the thought that he should soon entirely cease to be, was disagreeable to him: it frightened him: he wished to live, even though it were with less happiness than he now enjoyed in his prison. But he did not find the thought of total annihilation so terrible, as he had noticed it was to many who entertained the same principles as himself. In conclusion, he remarked:--

"My opinion, which is opposed to yours, is so strongly woven into my sentiments: I have so many arguments in favour of it: I have made so many observations from anatomy and physic which confirm it: that I think it will be impossible for me to renounce my principles. This, however, I promise: that I will not wilfully oppose your efforts to enlighten me, but rather wish, as far as it lies in my power, to concur with you. I will not dissemble, but honestly tell you of what I am convinced, and of what I am not. I will deal with you openly: for such is my character, and my friends can bear witness to it."

At Münter's request Struensee then explained to him his religious principles, of which an account has already been given.

On this first visit, Münter did not press his penitent home, but as he observed that he was really very uneasy about some of his actions, he thought it proper to increase this uneasiness. With this view, he told the prisoner, as he took leave of him, that Count Bernstorff had died at Hamburg on February 18. Struensee exclaimed, with great emotion, "What! is he dead?" and seemed to shudder.

"Yes," Münter answered, "he is. His wisdom, religion, and piety have preserved to him the character of a great man to the last; and it is generally believed that the grief of his latter years has hastened his death."

As Münter said this, he looked at the prisoner with an air which the latter seemed to understand, for he blushed.

On his second visit, Dr. Münter strove to convince the count of the falsity of his system, that man was a mere machine. Struensee answered, that in his present situation his mind was neither composed nor serene enough to examine into the nature of his principles. Münter, however, would not allow himself to be foiled in this manner, but earnestly warned the prisoner that it was his ambition alone which prevented him from doing justice to truth.

"Oh!" said Struensee, "this inclination is gone, and I am now very little in my own eyes and how could I be ambitious in this place?"

Münter speedily discovered the tender side in his opponent. The thought of having dragged his friends and adherents into ruin with him grieved him most, and hence he found his only comfort in repentance. The doctor, consequently, had hardly touched on this topic, ere Struensee confessed to him with tears in his eyes, that he felt guilty in this respect. Münter confirmed him in his sorrow, hoping thus to induce him to speak about his other actions. He told him that, in order to qualify himself for God's mercy, it was necessary to search his former life, and to acknowledge his errors and crimes. Then, in order to hold up to him the necessity of repentance, Münter delineated to him the outlines of his character, as he had reason for thinking it to be.

"God," the doctor said, "has given you an uncommon understanding, and, as I believe, a good natural disposition of heart; but, through voluptuousness, ambition, and levity, you have corrupted yourself."

Struensee confirmed Münter's conjectures, and admitted that voluptuousness had been his chief passion, and had contributed most to his moral depravity.

At the seventh conference Dr. Münter thought it advisable to hand Struensee a letter from his parents, which he had kept in his pocket for several days. This letter is curious, as showing how far the idolatry of royalty was carried at that time. Struensee's crime was considered so horrible, that no one imagined that it could be pardoned. Even his parents, the letter shows, writing to him in his wretched dungeon, do not once testify a desire that his sufferings should be alleviated, or that he should be spared the death which he so justly merited. The body was surrendered to man, who must be inexorable; the only thing to be effected was the salvation of the soul. The letter was to the following effect:--

MY SECOND SON!

I could wish that these lines, if possible, may reach you, that you may read and consider. The melancholy, grief, and anxiety of your parents on account of their sons, I am not able to express. Our eyes swim in tears day and night. Our souls cry for mercy to God without ceasing. But I will speak no more of this. There is but one thing that lies heavy on my mind, and that of your much afflicted mother. You know our sentiments. You know our intentions when we educated you. You remember how often and how seriously we inculcated this great truth, that godliness is profitable unto all things.

As often as I had occasion to speak to you, even then when you were in a public character, I reminded you of the omnipresent God, and exhorted you to be careful in preserving a good conscience. Your own heart will tell you how far you have lived up to the exhortations of your father.

Your parents have been in great anxiety about you for a long while. As we lead a retired life, and have very few acquaintances, and as you yourself have written nothing about your circumstances, the prayers and sighs of our straitened hearts have ascended to God in secret, and in our anxiety we cried that your soul might not be lost. Three different times, at Halle, Gedern, Altona, you were looked upon as a dead man by those who stood about your sick bed. God saved you, and preserved your life; certainly with the sole intention of preparing you, in this time of grace, for a happy eternity. The same is now the chief intention of your gracious Redeemer in your prison. You are His creature. He loves you. You are redeemed by the blood of Jesus. God is a reconciled Father. You are baptized in the name of the Trinity. He will make an everlasting covenant with you, and will not desist from doing good to you. Return to your God, my son. He will not hide His face of grace from you. Mind the voice of your conscience, and the conviction which the spirit of God produces in your soul. Pray to God that He may disclose to you the true inward state of your soul, that you, enlightened by God, may see how much you are corrupted. Employ the solitude you are now in to search your whole life in the sight of the omniscient God, that you may see how great and detestable your sins are. Do not flatter yourself. Be rigorous with yourself. Accuse yourself, and judge yourself before the tribunal of God, whilst you are still enjoying this time of grace.

When you shall feel your sins to be a heavy burden, your heart then will humiliate itself before God, you will pray for mercy, and you will seriously detest and abhor your transgressions. You will then see the just importance and necessity of the redemption of Christ. You then will take refuge in Him who receives sinners, who was made to be sin for us, who has paid the debts of our sins, and suffered their punishment, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him, and might have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace. Still the blood of Christ speaks for you. He that is merciful still stretches forth His hands. Without Jesus there is no salvation. He is the cause of it. Even for your sake He has received gifts. You may have in Him righteousness for your peace of mind, and for your sanctification. Oh that Jesus might be glorified in your heart! In Him we have happiness while we live, while we suffer, while we die, and after death.

Your mother sends her love to you. She weeps, she prays with me for our unfortunate sons. My son, my son, how deeply do you afflict us! Oh! could we but have this only comfort, that our sons turned with all their heart unto the Lord, and that we might with joy find them again in eternity before the throne of the Lamb!

Your crimes which brought you into prison are not properly and sufficiently known to us. What is talked of and read in public about you is of such a nature that your parents condemn and detest it. Oh! would to God that you had remained a physician! Of your rise to honours we were informed by the newspapers; but it was no matter of joy to us; we read it with grief. Oh! that you had kept, in all your transactions, a clear conscience, with much wisdom, piety, and humility, for the good of Denmark, and that you might have submitted with due subjection to all the commands of your sovereign. We cannot altogether judge of this matter for want of information. But know that, though we love our children, we nevertheless do not approve of their crimes, nor will we excuse or palliate them, or call them good; we rather hate all sins; detest, condemn, and abhor them; and praise God when He manifests His just wrath over the wicked, and shows His mercy to the penitent and the faithful. The Lord our God be your physician in your imprisonment, and cure thoroughly the wounds of your soul!

We, your parents, recommend you to the love of the Lord, who has mercy on you. May Jesus, who is a compassionate High Priest, remember you for good at the right hand of God, that you may receive mercy before the throne of grace, and be pardoned unto everlasting salvation. Yea, Jesus! Thou great friend of mankind, who wilt in nowise cast out him that comes to Thee, help parents and children to life everlasting. I am, your heartily afflicted father,

ADAM STRUENSEE.

_Rendsburg_, March 4, 1772.

Struensee took this letter with eagerness, and began reading it; but it is not surprising to find that he had not half finished it when he laid it down, weeping bitterly. Shortly after, he received a letter from his mother, written precisely in the same Calvinistic strain as that from his father, and not containing one single trait of that maternal affection so necessary under such trying circumstances.

At length, after twenty-one days' exertions, Struensee was so far converted, partly by reading the New Testament, Jerusalem and Gellert's works, and partly, also, by Münter's earnest exhortations, that he burst into the following penitent words:--

"I should be guilty of the greatest folly if I would not embrace Christianity with joy, when its arguments are so overbalancing, and when it breathes such general benevolence. Its effects upon my heart are too strong. Oftentimes I cannot help crying when I read the history of Christ. Even now I think with hope on my death. I have acquainted myself with its most terrifying circumstances. I do not know how I shall be when the awful hour arrives. At present, I am not uneasy about it; I find nothing that makes me anxiously wish for life. I will confidently expect forgiveness of my sins through Christ. And to you, my dear friend, I am infinitely obliged that you have brought me so far."

Struensee then expressed a wish that those friends of his who entertained the same sentiments as he had done on religious matters might also be brought to a sense of their errors; and he felt an especial interest in Brandt's fate. It was consequently arranged that Münter should bring Dean Hee to Struensee; and, when this took place a few days afterwards, the prisoner begged the latter to inform Brandt of his conversion. Shortly after, the dean delivered Brandt's answer, to the effect, "that he greatly rejoiced to hear of Struensee's conversion. For his own part, he found his only comfort in religion, and from his heart forgave Struensee for all that he had done to draw him into his misfortunes." Struensee was pleased to hear this, and from this period seemed to have his mind relieved of a great burden. Of the sincerity of his conversion the following passage seems to offer a convincing proof:--

"The Christian religion," Struensee said on one occasion, "is so engaging, that it must certainly please every one who is properly acquainted with it. We should see the best effects of it among the common people in reforming the world, if it were properly represented and rendered intelligible to the capacity of different sorts of people. They should be made sensible that in this life they could never be happier than by following the precepts of Christianity. Every one then would be convinced that, supposing even this religion to be a mistake, it must be such a one as contradicts entirely the nature of error and delusion, because it is the best and truest way of happiness. Every one would think it worth his while to maintain this opinion, and to propagate it.

"I wish you and other divines," he continued to Münter, "would write small pamphlets, to acquaint the people with the advantages of Christianity, which might be of greater service than preaching. In this manner Voltaire has written, as you are aware, innumerable little pieces against religion, which contain the same ideas over again under different titles, and in a different dress. Rational friends of Christianity should learn of him this method, by which he does much mischief, and apply it to better purposes. Voltaire boasts of having found out this method, as he says, to enlighten the world. I remember, that when I conversed with d'Alembert in Paris, he spoke in high terms of praise of this method, and admired Voltaire's wisdom on this point. However, I do not believe him to be the inventor of it. Perhaps he borrowed this way of spreading his principles from Christ himself, who taught truth, sometimes in parables, sometimes in questions and answers, sometimes in sermons."

When Struensee at length received permission to write, he drew up, after consulting with Münter, a description of his conversion, which, however, was in some passages quite confused, and far from clear. It is a further proof how greatly the mind of this naturally talented man was thrown off the balance by the awful position in which he found himself.

The examination of the other prisoners, and the hearing of the witnesses, took place alternately in the citadel and in the Christiansborg Palace. Professor Berger appeared at the bar on February 22, and so soon as he returned to prison he was allowed to be shaved and to eat with a knife and a fork. He was also granted a better room, was permitted to sleep in his own bed, was allowed tobacco, and to read books from his own library.

Justiz-rath Struensee passed his time in prison in playing at chess with the officers of the watch. After he had undergone an examination on March 7, the favour was also granted him of smoking a pipe, and drinking wine from his own cellar.

At last, on March 18, or two months after their arrest, came the turn of Colonel von Falckenskjold and Lieutenant-Colonel von Hesselberg to be examined. It has already been stated how scandalously these two gentlemen had been treated during their imprisonment at the main guard of the royal docks. Permission had been asked of Prince Frederick to have Falckenskjold removed to a more wholesome cell, but he refused it, and answered, with a jeering laugh, "A man who has fought with the Turks must be able to endure such a punishment." On the day of examination, the two prisoners were conveyed in litters to the citadel, but when they returned to prison they were allowed knives and forks, and freed from the constant presence of the officers of the guard in their room.

On March 25, Major-General Gude and Count Struensee were confronted. On the following day, Admiral Hansen and Lieutenant Aboe made their statements, and as Etats-rath Willebrandt had been taken ill, he was examined in his house by a special commission.

The investigation gradually assumed such immense proportions, that the sittings to examine the prisoners and witnesses could not be closed till the end of March, or for nearly two months and a half.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 61: Reverdil, p. 396.]

[Footnote 62: A French petit maître, who protested against this weakness of Struensee, and in whose presence the discretion of his own countrymen in such matters was called in question, retorted: "Un Français l'aurait dit à tout le monde, et ne l'aurait avoué à personne."]

[Footnote 63: That Struensee's contemporaries were of the same opinion, will be seen from what Baron von Bülow said to Mr. Wraxall on the subject:--"Had Struensee persisted pertinaciously in disclaiming any sort of criminal intimacy with the queen, should a contrary declaration have afterwards been made by him under torture, all the world would have said that such a confession was worth nothing; as having been extorted by the rack--as being the mere effect of pain. He would probably have then been put out of the way in prison, but to latest ages he would have been called a great man: nor could they then have touched Queen Matilda. She denied everything till she was shown Struensee's confession."]

[Footnote 64: This confession still exists: indeed, I have a copy of it. But, however anxious I may feel to arrive at the truth, it is simply impossible to republish it. The few general hints I give in the text, and further on in the indictment of the queen, will suffice to indicate its disgusting character.]

[Footnote 65: Reverdil makes a remark on this, which would have weight if we could believe a word that Brandt said. He observes:--"I learnt from Brandt such peculiar details, which at the same time agreed with all the rest, that I could neither doubt their truth nor their origin. Brandt was so petulant in his curiosity about matters of gallantry, that it was necessary either to deny as impudently as he questioned, or to confess everything. And as he spared nobody, and took a pride in dispensing with those reservations most commanded by decency, I do not doubt that by showing himself thoroughly acquainted with the affair, he forced the queen to speak to him as clearly as his friend did. In his examination he confessed to having been a confidant."]