Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

He was a rather frail-looking, fair-haired, blue-eyed Scot, now thirty-six years of age. Roger thought he looked considerably older, but attri­buted that to the tragic failure of his marriage.

Having finished reading the letter Hugh Elliot said: "I will willingly serve you in any way I can, Mr. Brook, but your having appeared here in the guise of a Frenchman makes it somewhat difficult for me to do so openly. For example, it would not be de rigueur for me to present anyone not having British nationality, at the Danish Court."

Roger bowed. "I am aware of that, Sir, and the last thing I would wish to do is to prove an embarrassment to you. However, Sir James suggested that you might perhaps be able to arrange an occasion when I could meet the French Minister here, casually. My story is that I am a native of Strasbourg, but have been living with relatives in England for the past six months; so that while I am lacking in introductions from my own countrymen, friends in London were good enough to give me a letter of introduction to yourself."

"That sounds like a typical James Harris ruse," smiled Elliot. "He would reason that once I have brought you into contact with Monsieur le Baron la Houze, you will only have to make yourself pleasant to him, for him to offer, quite spontaneously, to present you himself; then you will be launched every bit as much under the French aegis in Denmark" as though you had arrived here with your pockets stuffed full of letters from Versailles."

"That was the idea, Sir," Roger grinned back.

"Regard the matter as arranged then. I'll not ask Monsieur le Baron here to meet you, as that might appear a shade too pointed. But he is certain to be at Count Bernstorff's soiree next Tuesday so you shall accompany me to that. Now, in what other way can I be of assistance to you?"

"If I did not fear to trespass on your good nature I would ask if you could spare an evening to put me au courant with the politics of the Scandinavian Kingdoms vis-a-vis Russia."

"I will do so with pleasure. As I lead a bachelor existence 'tis my custom to spend most Sundays with my good friends the Reventlows; but I can easily excuse myself to-morrow, and if you will dine with me we can have a long talk afterwards."

"Please don't let me interfere ..." Roger began.

The Minister waved the polite hesitation aside. "Believe me, Mr. Brook, 'tis mere selfishness out of my eagerness to hear the latest gossip from London, that makes me seek so early an opportunity to talk with you at leisure. I'll be your debtor for giving me your company to-morrow. How long do you plan to remain with us in Copenhagen?"

"In that, Sir, I should value your guidance. My mission is of so nebulous a character that any reasonable delay in my reaching the Russian capital may well be compensated for, if during it, I acquire a better knowledge of how to interpret such allusions to future policy as I may pick up when I am once established there. Yet I am naturally eager to reach my destination and set about the business on which I have been sent."

"I agree that a good understanding of the background against which you are to work should prove of great value to you; and I will give you a verbal survey of the Danish court to-morrow. I think too, that either through Monsieur la Houze or some other agency we must arrange for your presentation, so that you can see the leading person­ages here for yourself. But once you have made your bow there will be little point in your lingering here. Denmark now pursues a policy of strict neutrality, so Copenhagen has become something of a back­water and you would be more likely to learn of matters to your advan­tage in Stockholm."

A servant now appeared with a pot of hot chocolate, and over it they talked of lighter matters for a quarter of an hour, then Roger took his leave.

He spent the rest of the day wandering about the Danish capital, and found to his relief that language presented no barriers to his enjoyment. All the better class of people whom he addressed, as also the shopkeepers and hackney-coachmen, spoke either fluent French or German; and he soon learned that few of the nobility even under­stood Danish, as it was then considered by them to be only the bar­barous tongue of churls.

The Royal Palace of Christiansborg appeared to him vast in com­parison with the smallness of the city, but such churches as he visited proved disappointing. Since the Reformation the Danes had adopted the strictest form of Calvinism, so their places of worship were bleakly puritanical. Such people of quality as he saw were richly dressed in the French fashion, but the bulk of the citizens wore sober black, and the tattered garments of the poorer people led him to judge that, as in France, the wealth of the country was most unevenly distributed. The food that was served to him at his own Inn he found excellent, as, although plain, it was beautifully fresh and included a greater number of fish-dishes than he had seen before on one table.

On the Sunday the entire city assumed an air of intense sobriety. Every shop was shuttered, the cries of the street-vendors were stilled, and amusements of every kind were strictly prohibited. In con­sequence, he was glad when the time came for mm to ride out again to Christiansholm. The air was crisp, but now that May had almost come a brave sun heightened the tender green of the gardens that he passed, and brought out the rich colours of their flowers.

At the Legation the tall, blue-eyed Scot received him kindly and they sat down to dinner a deux . Once more Roger noted the profusion of fish-dishes, including a delicious cold salmon; and, on his commenting on it, his host told him that, as Norway formed part of the Danish dominions, such salmon were to be had all through the season in Copenhagen for a few pence.

After they had dined, instead of remaining at table, they took their wine into the library and settled themselves comfortably at a table in a bay-window which had a lovely view across the garden to the Sound, where an armada of small yachts was rocking gently at anchor in Sabbath quiet.

Having filled Roger's glass, Hugh Elliot said: "Now to business. To give you a picture of the people who control the destinies of Denmark I must go some way back. You will, no doubt, have noted the strictness with which Sunday is kept here. Well, 'tis a feast-day now to what it was when King Frederick V ascended the throne in 1746. Before his time the Court lived in almost unrelieved gloom, on week­days as well as on the Sabbath, but he altered that, for the nobility at least. He was one of the most dissolute monarchs that ever lived, and was hardly surpassed in his excesses by his contemporary Louis XV. The Reformed Church here naturally regarded him as its worst enemy, but the Danish Kings are absolute. They have no Parliament, and neither the nobility nor the clergy has any legal means of opposing their wishes—so their word is law. In consequence King Frederick emancipated his upper-classes from their hair-shirts; and ever since his time the court has been to some extent lax in its morals, whereas the bulk of the people have continued to lead outwardly the most puritanical lives. Apart from his debaucheries he was by no means a bad King, and with the aid of his very able Prime Minister, Count Bernstorff, he brought a moderate prosperity to Denmark."

"That would be the uncle of the present Prime Minister, would it not?" Roger asked.

"Yes. And the nephew is as gifted as the uncle. Frederick V married twice. His first wife was Louisa the daughter of our King George II, and by her he had two children, Christian VII, the present ruler of Denmark, and Sophia Magdalena, who is now the wife of King Gustavus III of Sweden. For his second wife Frederick, in an evil hour, took Juliana Maria, the daughter of the Duke of Brunswick-Wolfcnbuttel. He died in 1776, and from that time this cunning, ambitious and ruth­less German Princess has been the curse of the Royal House of Denmark."