A Queen of Tears, vol. 1 of 2 / Caroline Matilda, Queen of Denmark and Norway and Princess of Great Britain and Ireland

CHAPTER X.

CHRISTIAN VII. IN ENGLAND.

1768.

Christian VII. landed at Dover on August 9, 1768. He was received with especial marks of distinction, a salute was fired from the cannon of the castle, and the vessels in the harbour were dressed with flags. Royal coaches were in waiting, and Lord Hertford and Lord Falmouth received him on behalf of the King. The King of Denmark’s suite consisted of Count Bernstorff, his principal Secretary of State, Count Moltke the younger, Grand Marshal, Count Holck, Master of the Wardrobe, Baron Schimmelmann, Treasurer, Baron BÜlow, Lord-in-Waiting, Dr. Struensee, Physician, and several others.

Christian declined the royal coaches, and preferred to travel in a post-chaise to avoid ceremony. With the principal members of his suite he pushed on ahead, leaving the others to follow with the baggage. Lord Hertford told his Majesty that the clergy and the corporation of Canterbury, through which city he was to pass, had made great preparations to receive him. The King was annoyed, for he was travelling incognito as the Prince of Traventhal, and his object in coming to England was to amuse himself, and not to be wearied by receiving addresses from mayors and Church dignitaries—for the clergy in particular he had a dislike. He said to Bernstorff: “The last King of Denmark who entered Canterbury laid it to ashes. I wish the citizens had remembered that, and then perhaps they would have let me pass unnoticed.” But Bernstorff told Christian that he must at least receive the address, which he did with ill grace, but he declined the luncheon prepared in his honour.

The King of Denmark arrived in London at seven o’clock in the evening, and when his coach pulled up before St. James’s Palace, Holck exclaimed, “By God, this will never do! This is not a fit place to lodge a Christian in!” In truth the somewhat dingy exterior of St. James’s Palace was not, at first sight, likely to impress a foreigner, but when the King entered he pronounced his lodgings tolerable. George III. had spent £3,000 in refurnishing a suite of apartments for his brother-in-law. Moreover, he defrayed the cost of his royal guest’s table during his stay in England, at the cost of £84 a day, without wine, and the wine bill, no doubt, was a heavy addition. He also decorated the King of Denmark’s sideboard with the splendid gold plate of Henry VII., which was seldom used, except at coronation banquets, and was brought from the Tower especially for the occasion. These marks of respect, it may be supposed, George III. paid to the office of the King, for it is certain that he disliked the man, and heartily wished him anywhere but at St. James’s.

Christian VII. had invited himself to the English court, and came as a most unwelcome guest. His visit was singularly ill-timed, for the Wilkes riots had taken place recently, and the King was unpopular, and much worried and annoyed. Moreover, the court was in mourning for the Princess Louisa Anne, and the King wished to give none but the absolutely necessary receptions this year. He disliked festivities as much as the King of Denmark revelled in them, and he grudged the outlay which the visit of his self-invited guest entailed. Besides, George III., who was a model of the domestic virtues, had heard of the profligacy of the King of Denmark, and the cruelty and disrespect with which he treated his Queen. Matilda had written home piteous complaints of the sufferings she endured, and though George III. declined to interfere between man and wife, and advised his sister to make the best of her lot, he felt just resentment against her husband, who ill-treated her so grossly.[94]

[94] George III.’s repugnance to the King of Denmark’s visit is shown in the following note which he wrote to Lord Weymouth before he came: “As to-morrow is the day you receive foreign ministers, you will acquaint M. de Dieden (the Danish minister) that I desire he will assure the King, his master, that I am desirous of making his stay in this country as agreeable as possible. That I therefore wish to be thoroughly apprized of the mode in which he chooses to be treated, that I may exactly conform to it. This will throw whatever may displease the King of Denmark, during his stay here, on his shoulders, and consequently free me from that dÉsagrÉment; but you know very well that the whole of it is very disagreeable to me.” [Richmond Lodge, June 8, 1768.]

In pursuance of these sentiments George III., though he had every necessary preparation made for the King of Denmark, showed no warmth in welcoming him. He was holding a levee in St. James’s Palace the very hour that Christian arrived there, but instead of hastening to greet him, he sent a formal message to the effect that he would receive him at the Queen’s House (now Buckingham Palace) at half-past five o’clock. To the Queen’s House, therefore, at the appointed hour Christian repaired. George III.’s reception of his cousin and brother-in-law was cold and formal, and immediately it was over he left London for Richmond Lodge, where he remained in seclusion nearly the whole time of the King of Denmark’s stay in England.

Christian then went to Carlton House to pay his respects to his mother-in-law. His reception there was less frigid, but far from satisfactory. The Princess-Dowager of Wales could not help showing him how anxious she was about her daughter. She overwhelmed her son-in-law with inquiries concerning his wife’s health, which wearied him greatly, and he could not refrain from saying in an audible whisper to Holck, “Cette chÈre maman m’embÊte terriblement”. The Princess-Dowager reopened the question of Madame de Plessen’s dismissal, acting, no doubt, at the request of Queen Matilda, and prayed the King to reinstate her, as she was afraid for her daughter to be exposed to the temptations of the court without a strict duenna. Christian, who was visibly annoyed, said he would not oppose Madame de Plessen’s return, if the Princess-Dowager insisted upon it, but if she came back he and the Queen must occupy separate palaces, as he was determined never to have Madame de Plessen under his roof again. As this would involve a virtual separation, the Princess-Dowager forebore to press the point further. She reported her ill-success to Matilda, and begged her to submit to the inevitable, and try to conciliate her husband. Now that she saw what manner of man her son-in-law was, the Princess-Dowager regretted the part she had played in bringing about this unhappy marriage.

Ill-health and many sorrows had softened this stern Princess’s heart; life had not gone smoothly with her of late. The one friend in whom she trusted, Lord Bute, had been driven from England by her implacable enemies. Bute had taken office at the request of the Princess-Dowager, and for her sake he had laid it down. The ostensible ground he gave for his resignation was ill-health, the real one was a chivalrous desire to check the flood of cowardly insult aimed through him at the second lady in the land. The Princess-Dowager urged him not to make the sacrifice, for she well knew it would be in vain, and she proved to be right. Bute was still pursued with a relentless hatred, and his enemies were not satisfied until they had driven him first from London and then out of the country. Unable to withstand the storm any longer Bute went into exile, and at the time when Christian VII. visited England, he was wandering about Italy under the incognito of Sir John Stewart. The Princess-Dowager was much cast down by the loss of her friend, with whom she could hardly correspond, without fear of her letters being intercepted. Moreover, her sorrows were increased by the death of two of her children (the once numerous family of Frederick Prince of Wales was now reduced to five), and by the unsatisfactory conduct of her two younger sons, the Dukes of Gloucester and Cumberland, who showed tendencies (the latter especially) to folly and extravagance.

Carlton House, Pall Mall, the residence of the Princess Dowager of Wales.

CARLTON HOUSE, PALL MALL, THE RESIDENCE OF THE PRINCESS-DOWAGER OF WALES.
From a Print, temp. 1765.

The visit of her son-in-law, the King of Denmark, so far from comforting her, only increased her anxiety. The more she saw of him the more she disliked him. He was restive under her covert reproaches, and at last entirely lost her good graces by his impertinence. The Princess was telling fortunes by cards one evening with one of her ladies, to whom Christian had given a diamond star. The King said to her: “ChÈre maman, which King am I in your pasteboard court?” “Lady——,” said the Princess-Dowager archly, “calls you the King of Diamonds.” “What do you call Holck?” asked Christian. “Oh, by a more flattering title—the King of Hearts.” This nettled the King, who retorted: “And pray, chÈre maman, what do you call Lord Bute—the Knave of Hearts?” This repartee greatly discomposed the Princess-Dowager. She flushed crimson, and gathered up the cards without a word.

Though Christian was so unwelcome at court, he was exceedingly well received by all classes of the nation, who made him the hero of the hour. The fact that the King disliked him rather increased his popularity than otherwise. The King and Queen, in consequence of the seclusion in which they lived, had little or no influence on society. George III. preferred a quiet domestic life with his wife and children, routs, balls and assemblies had no attractions for him. Therefore London society, which loves the presence of royalty, hailed the King of Denmark with delight. All the fine ladies were in love with him, all the fine gentlemen sought the honour of his acquaintance, imitated his dress and deportment, and even copied his eccentricities. The rumour of his vices lent an additional piquancy. He was nicknamed “the Northern Scamp,” and the ladies invented a headdress in his honour, which was known as the “Danish fly”. “The King of Denmark,” writes Whately to George Grenville, “is the only topic of conversation. Wilkes himself is forgotten, even by the populace.”[95] The people cheered him wherever he went, and the nobility vied with one another in giving him splendid entertainments. First to have the honour of entertaining “the royal Dane” was Lady Hertford, who gave a brilliant assembly at Hertford House. Horace Walpole, who was present, writes:—

“I came to town to see the Danish King. He is as diminutive as if he came out of a kernel in the Fairy Tales. He is not ill made, nor weakly made, though so small; and, though his face is pale and delicate, it is not at all ugly.... Still he has more royalty than folly in his air, and, considering he is not twenty, is as well as any one expects any king in a puppet show to be.... He only takes the title of Altesse (an absurd mezzo-termine), but acts king exceedingly; struts in the circle, like a cock-sparrow, and does the honours of himself very civilly.”[96] And again: “He has the sublime strut of his grandfather (George II.), and the divine white eyes of all his family on the mother’s side.... The mob adore and huzza him, and so they did at the first instant. They now begin to know why, for he flings money to them out of the window; and by the end of the week, I do not doubt they will want to choose him for Middlesex. His court is extremely well ordered, for they bow as low to him at every word as if his name were Sultan Amurath. You would take his first minister for only the first of his slaves.... There is indeed a pert young gentleman who a little discomposes this august ceremonial; his name is Count Holck, his age three-and-twenty; and his post answers to one that we had formerly in England ages ago, called, in our tongue, a royal favourite.”[97]

[95] Grenville Papers, vol. iv.

[96] Walpole’s Letters, vol. v., edition 1857.

[97] Ibid.

Lady Hertford’s assembly was followed by a magnificent entertainment at Syon House, given by the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland. “An inexpressible variety of emblematical devices was illuminated by more than fifteen thousand lamps, and the temple erected in the inner court was ornamented by transparent paintings, which had a very happy effect.”[98] A gala performance was also given at the opera, which was attended by all the rank and fashion of the town, though the King and Queen were absent. After the opera the King went to Mrs. Cornelys’ house in Soho Square (a sort of Assembly Rooms at that period). “Mrs. Cornelys had put the apartments in all the possible order that a few hours’ notice would admit of, and the whole was splendidly illuminated with upwards of two thousand wax lights. The moment the King entered the grand room the music (consisting of French horns, clarinets, bassoons, etc.) began playing, and his Majesty seemed very much pleased at the agreeable manner of his reception. Dancing was proposed; the King opened the ball with the Duchess of Ancaster, and named the second minuet with the Countess of Harrington; the minuets were succeeded by English country dances, and those by the French cotillons.”[99]

[98] The Annual Register, 1768.

[99] Ibid.

Christian’s maternal aunt, the Princess Amelia, was indignant with George III. for the way he ignored his royal guest, and she gave a grand entertainment at Gunnersbury House in honour of her Danish nephew. “The entertainment was extremely magnificent. Invitations were given to upwards of 300 of the nobility. The supper consisted of 120 dishes; a grand fire-work was then played off; and the ball, which was very splendid, ended about three o’clock on Saturday morning.”[100] The Duke of Gloucester was present, but the King and Queen did not attend. The lovely Lady Talbot, who was much admired by Christian, was the belle of the ball, and wore a diamond coronet worth £80,000. The beautiful and lively Lady Bel Stanhope also created a sensation, and Holck fell in love with her. It is said that he proposed marriage, but Lady Bel, or her parents, would not hear of it. The Princess Amelia declared herself to be very fond of her nephew, who, she said, reminded her of her sister, Queen Louise, but she was distressed that he did not get on better with his wife, and asked him why. “Pourquoi?” replied Christian, “Pourquoi?—elle est si blonde!” Walpole has something to say on this head too, for he tells us, “At the play of The Provoked Wife, he (the King) clapped whenever there was a sentence against matrimony—a very civil proceeding when his wife was an English Princess”.

[100] The Annual Register, 1768.

George III.’s neglect of the King of Denmark occasioned so much comment that he at last reluctantly gave a ball in Christian’s honour at the Queen’s House, at which the Princess-Dowager of Wales, the Duke of Gloucester, and a great number of the nobility were present. The Princess Amelia was not asked; the King owed her a grudge for the way in which she had forced his hand in giving an entertainment to her nephew—an example he was bound to follow. The King of Denmark opened the ball with Queen Charlotte, and King George danced a minuet with the Duchess of Ancaster, who seems to have been the greatest lady of the day outside the royal family.

Christian VII. showed no hurry to quit a country where he was so well received, and in September, when London was empty, he made several tours in the provinces. It was a very wet summer, and the rains were heavier than had been known in the memory of man. “The Serpentine river in Hyde Park rose so high that it forced down a part of the wall, and poured with such violence upon Knightsbridge, that the inhabitants expected the whole town to be overflowed; the canal in St. James’s Park rose higher than ever was known; in short, no man living remembered so much rain-fall in so short a time.”[101] Several parts of the country were flooded, and the high roads rendered impassable; travelling by coach always slow, became slower still, and in some places was attended with difficulty and even danger. But these things did not daunt Christian, who rushed about the country, from one end to another, stopping nowhere for any time, and apparently taking no interest in anything he saw. Even the polite writer in the Annual Register, who devoted pages to Christian’s doings, was constrained to say: “His journeyings are so rapid, and his stay at places so short, that, if he is not a youth of more than common talents, he must have a very confused idea of what he sees”.

[101] The Annual Register, September 1, 1768.

Horace Walpole, who now pursued the King of Denmark with strange malignity, writes: “You know already about the King of Denmark, hurrying from one corner of England to the other, without seeing anything distinctly, fatiguing himself, breaking his chaise, going tired to bed in inns, and getting up to show himself to the mob at the window. I believe that he is a very silly lad, but the mob adore him, though he has neither done nor said anything worth repeating; but he gives them an opportunity of getting together, of staring and of making foolish observations.”[102] Bernstorff excused the King’s indifference on the ground that he was short-sighted. This also served to explain many apparent discourtesies, for Christian often ignored people to whom he had been most gracious a few days before. It is probable that Horace Walpole was one of the victims of this little peculiarity, and that accounts for the venom with which he writes of the King. Christian may also have ignored Walpole’s niece, Lady Waldegrave, who had secretly married the Duke of Gloucester, and who, though the marriage was not declared, already gave herself the airs of a princess of the blood.

[102] Walpole’s Letters, vol. v., edition 1857.

Christian’s first excursion was to York. Attended by a retinue of a hundred and twenty persons he set out from London, and, in passing, visited Cambridge. The Vice-Chancellor, the heads of houses, the doctors, professors, proctors and other officials of the university, clad in their scarlet robes, received the King at the entrance of the senate house, and conducted him to a chair of state, where an address was presented to him. The King was invited to a public luncheon, but he excused himself, and asked the Vice-Chancellor to supper with him at his inn. Christian shirked all ceremony, and saw the sights of Cambridge in his riding coat and boots. At York the Corporation made every preparation to entertain him in a splendid manner, but the King declined all formalities, saw the races, visited the Minster and other public buildings, and the next day set out on his return journey to London, going round by way of Liverpool and Manchester, “where he was particularly gratified by viewing the stupendous works of the Duke of Bridgewater, at which he expressed both astonishment and pleasure”.

A few days after the Danish King’s return to London he again set forth on a visit to Oxford. He was received in state by the Vice-Chancellor and officials of the university, and in full convocation had the degree of Doctor of Civil Law conferred upon him. Bernstorff, Holck and other members of the Danish suite also received honorary degrees, and Struensee had conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Medicine. After Oxford the King visited several places, and was perpetually on the road. When he was at Newmarket for the races the Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge waited on him, and in the name of the university presented an address, and graces for conferring the same degree upon the King and his nobles as they had received at Oxford.

The grandest entertainment provided for Christian was his state visit to the City of London. The Lord Mayor with the aldermen and sheriffs, all in their robes, set out in coaches from the Guildhall for the Three Cranes, where they embarked at eleven o’clock in the morning on board the city state barge, “the streamers flying, a select band of water-music playing, and the principal livery companies attending in their respective barges,” to Westminster, where they awaited the arrival of Christian from St. James’s Palace. The King came punctually, and as he set foot on the city barge a royal salute was fired, and loud cheers rent the air from the vast crowds of people who lined the banks on either side, thronged the bridges, and crowded the river on innumerable craft. The procession glided down the Thames to the Temple Stairs. “During the course of this grand passage on the water his Majesty frequently expressed himself highly pleased, and his admiration of the several great and beautiful objects round him; and sometimes condescended to come forward in order to gratify the curiosity of the people, who eagerly fought to get a sight of his royal person, though at the hazard of their lives.”[103] Arrived at the Temple Stairs the King landed, took his seat in the Lord Mayor’s coach, and proceeded to the Mansion House. The streets through which he passed were gaily decorated, and crowded “with an innumerable populace, while the windows and tops of houses were equally crowded with spectators of both sexes, whose acclamations, together with the ringing of bells, and the shouts of the multitude, loudly expressed their joy at his Majesty’s presence; his Majesty expressed his surprise at the populousness of this city, and his satisfaction at the kindness of the citizens”.[104]

[103] The Annual Register.

[104] Ibid.

Arrived at the Mansion House an address was read to the King by the City Recorder. Curiously no direct mention was made of Queen Matilda, but we take from it one passage to show the gross and servile flattery which characterised the whole effusion. “The many endearing ties which happily connect you, Sir, with our most gracious Sovereign, justly entitle you to the respect and veneration of all his Majesty’s faithful subjects; but your affability and other princely virtues, so eminently displayed during the whole course of your residence among us, have in a particular manner charmed the citizens of London, who reflect with admiration on your early and uncommon thirst for knowledge, and your indefatigable pursuit of it by travel and observation, the happy fruits of which they doubt not will be long employed and acknowledged within the whole extent of your influence and command.” Christian returned a suitable reply in Danish, and, “upon notice that the dinner was served, his Majesty was conducted into the Egyptian Hall, where his Majesty condescended to proceed quite round, that the ladies (who made a most brilliant appearance in the galleries) might have a full view of his royal person”. The banquet was a Gargantuan one, and took four hours to work through. Several toasts were drunk to the sound of a trumpet, but, at the King’s request, without speeches. In addition to the usual loyal toasts, were added those of the King of Denmark and Norway and his Consort, Queen Matilda. The King himself proposed two toasts, “Prosperity to the British Nation,” and “Prosperity to the City of London”.[105]

[105] The Annual Register.

At eight o’clock his Majesty took his leave, the City Fathers going before him to his coach bearing wax lights. The King returned to St. James’s Palace through crowded streets, brilliantly illuminated in his honour. The whole visit was a remarkable tribute to his undeserved popularity. Truly there must be some strange glamour around the name of king, when a prince like this, who had never said or done anything worth recording, and a great deal which was quite unfit to be recorded, received from the greatest city in the world an ovation which could not be surpassed if he had been one of the world’s greatest heroes.

Moreover, the King of Denmark was pursuing in London the same scandalous amusements as those which had revolted his subjects in Copenhagen. Incredible though it may seem, night after night he and his favourite, Holck, disguised as sailors, would pass hours drinking and frolicking in the stews and pot-houses of St. Giles’. These adventures generally began after midnight. Christian would leave some splendid entertainment given in his honour by the proudest of the English nobility, and hurrying back to St. James’s would change his clothes, and start out again to seek distraction in the lowest forms of dissipation. These extraordinary predilections were perfectly well known to many people of rank and fashion, and the knowledge filtered down to the mob, who cheered the Danish King whithersoever he went. Perhaps they lent, such was the depravity of the age, an additional zest to the cheers. Even Queen Matilda, left behind in far-off Denmark, heard from London of her husband’s transgressions. It is said that she wrote to her aunt, the Princess Amelia: “I wish the King’s travels had the same laudable object as those of Cyrus, but I hear that his Majesty’s chief companions are musicians, fiddlers, and persons designed for inglorious employments. What a wretched levee! And his evening amusements are said to be still more disgraceful. His delicacy and sentiment cannot be supposed to dignify these fleeting gratifications. If I had not experienced his fickleness and levity at home, I could not have heard, without emotion and disquietude, of his infidelities abroad.”[106]

[106] Memoirs of an Unfortunate Queen.

Having said this much in condemnation of Christian VII. in England, it is only fair to turn the other side of the shield, and record one or two anecdotes of him which may have accounted, to some extent, for his undoubted popularity. One day he saw a poor tradesman seized in his shop by two bailiffs, who thrust him into a hackney coach, despite the lamentations of his weeping wife and family, and drove off to the Marshalsea. The King commanded Count Moltke to follow the coach and find out all particulars. Moltke reported that the unlucky man had contracted a debt in the course of his business, and had been charged exorbitant interest. The King paid the debt, set the man free from prison, and gave him five hundred dollars to start anew. This was only one instance of several exhibitions of generosity, for he gave away considerable sums to liberate poor debtors from the Marshalsea and Fleet. Christian had also a habit of scattering money among the crowd, which would account for many cheers—though money was scarce in Denmark its King had always plenty to throw away on his travels.

One day when Christian stepped out of his coach to enter St. James’s Palace, a fine buxom girl, who formed one of the little crowd that always assembled to witness the King’s goings out and comings in, burst through the line, caught the King in her arms, and, fairly lifting him off the ground, kissed him heartily. “Now,” said she, “kill me if you like, I shall die happy, for I have kissed the prettiest fellow in the world.” Christian, far from being offended, was delighted with this tribute to his charms. He gave the girl a crown and ran laughing up the stairs. But after this incident it was necessary to have a double line of attendants, as other maidens might have been tempted to repeat the experiment, for the King, though so small, was much admired by the ladies of all classes. He was fond of dining in public at St. James’s, that is to say, he sat at a table in the middle of the room, and the general public, chiefly women, were admitted to a space at one end, shut off by a rail, whence they could see “the Northern Scamp” eat his dinner. Powdered, painted, patched, perfumed, richly dressed in silk, velvet and lace, and besprinkled with jewels, Christian looked like a Dresden china figure. The men said he resembled a girl dressed in a man’s clothes, but the women adored him.

Six weeks had passed since the King of Denmark’s arrival in England, yet he showed no inclination to depart. But the King of England, who had to bear the cost of his maintenance, thought that it was high time for him to return to his Queen and country. Other hints proving vain, George III. invited his royal guest to what he pointedly called a “farewell entertainment” at Richmond Lodge, on September 26. “A most elegant structure,” we read, “was erected, in the centre of which was a large triumphal arch, about forty feet high, of the Grecian order, decorated with figures, trophies and other embellishments.” The entertainment was equal to the magnificence of the structure, and the fireworks were the finest ever exhibited in England. The road from St. James’s Palace to Richmond Lodge, along which Christian passed, was illuminated by upwards of fifteen thousand Italian lamps.

The Danish King accepted this “farewell entertainment,” but still showed no signs of saying farewell. The Princess-Dowager of Wales, therefore, by way of speeding the parting guest, gave a supper party on October 1, to bid him good-bye. It consisted of three tables, one for their Majesties and the Princess-Dowager, a second for the King of Denmark and fifty of the nobility, and a third for the Prince of Wales (afterwards George IV., then a boy of six years old) and his attendants. The supper party accomplished the object for which it was given, and Christian VII. named the much-wished-for day of his departure, which, however, was not for another fortnight.

On October 10 the King of Denmark gave a masquerade ball to his English friends, who had entertained him so lavishly. The ball took place at the Opera House in the Haymarket, and two thousand five hundred guests responded to the “royal Dane’s” invitation. Queen Charlotte did not appear, she did not approve of masquerades; her virtuous husband also did not approve of them, but could not resist the temptation of being present, though he compromised with his conscience by peeping at the gay scene from a private box, behind transparent shutters. The Princess Amelia, who was old and infirm, witnessed the revels from another box, where she sat the whole evening masked. The scene was one of great brilliancy, and the value of the jewels worn on this occasion was estimated at upwards of £2,000,000. The company must have been rather mixed, and a good many people lost articles of jewellery, which they never recovered. The following account of the ball is taken from the Gentleman’s Magazine:—

The masked ball given by Christian VII. at the opera house, Haymarket.

THE MASKED BALL GIVEN BY CHRISTIAN VII. AT THE OPERA HOUSE, HAYMARKET.
From the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” 1768.

“His Danish Majesty came in, masked, between ten and eleven o’clock, dressed in a domino of gold and silver stuff, a black hat and white feather, walked about with great good nature and pleasantry until twelve, then withdrew with a select company to supper and appeared no more.... The Duke of Cumberland was in a crimson domino, trimmed with gold, black hat and white feather. The Duke of Gloucester in a purple domino, white hat and white feather. Her Grace the Duchess of Northumberland appeared in the character of Rembrandt’s wife, in a close black gown trimmed with gold, a rounded coif, a short apron tucked up, and a painter’s brush in her hand. Lady Bel Stanhope and her sister represented pilgrims in brown gowns with blue sashes trimmed with silver, and small hats laced round with diamonds. The Countess of Harrington and the two young ladies, her daughters, were extremely simple in their appearance, but at the same time extremely elegant.... His Grace the Duke of Northumberland was in a Persian habit, with a fine turban richly ornamented with diamonds. Lord Grosvenor was in a splendid suit of the Turkish fashion. The Duchess of Ancaster, in the character of a Sultana, was universally admired; her robe was purple satin bordered with ermine, and fluttered on the ground so much in the style of Eastern magnificence that we were transported in fancy to the palaces of Constantinople.... Many of the most superb, as well as the best fancied dresses in the whole assembly were those of eminent citizens, or those who had acquired their fortunes by trade.”

Another account says: “The principal grotesque characters were the conjurer, the black, and the old woman. There was also a Methodist preacher, a chimney sweeper, with his bag, shovel and scraper, and a boar with a bull’s head, all of which were supported with great good humour.”[107]

[107] The Annual Register.

Two days after the masquerade the King of Denmark held a levee at St. James’s Palace, at which a large company attended to take leave of him. The following day he went to Queen’s House to say farewell to the King and Queen, and to Carlton House to wish the Princess-Dowager good-bye. Christian made several valuable presents before his departure, but the most notable was a gold box studded with diamonds which he gave to Garrick, the great actor, and begged him to receive it as a small token of the regard he had for his genius.

The King of Denmark posted to Dover on October 15, and on his way thither he broke the journey at Chatham and went up the Medway on H.M.S. Victory, and inspected the British fleet. It chanced that the young officer who commanded the Victory was Gambier, who forty years later, in 1807, was the Admiral commanding the English fleet that bombarded Copenhagen. The following day the King of Denmark left England, after a stay of more than two months, and sailed for France.

Christian VII. went to Paris where he remained for some time as the guest of the French King, Louis XV. It would not be germane to this history to give a detailed account of the King of Denmark’s experiences in Paris. He was splendidly entertained by the King and the French nobility, and welcomed on all his public appearances with enthusiasm. His private amusements were of the same nature as those he had followed in London. If it had been possible to corrupt Christian’s morals more than they were corrupted his experiences in Paris would have done it. France was then slowly going down the steps that led to the revolution. The heartlessness, extravagance and immorality of the nobility stood in fearful contrast to the brutality, misery and ignorance of the people. Already could be heard the mutterings of the coming storm, but the Danish King had no eyes to see, nor ears to hear, nor mind to understand anything beyond the amusements of the passing hour.

Clyx.com