She was not yet out of her early teenage years when she was sent away to become a queen. Almost at once, she found herself trapped in a marriage that turned into a nightmare. Then Caroline Matilda fell in love with another man—the king’s own physician. Their secret affair set loose whispered accusations, political conspiracies, and one of the greatest scandals in the Danish royal court.

Her enemies turned on her, her marriage collapsed, and the young queen was stripped of her crown and banished far away. But the darkest part of her story had not yet come. In the early hours of January 17, 1772, armed men entered the queen’s private apartments in Christiansborg Palace. Caroline Matilda, Queen of Denmark and Norway, was arrested in her own rooms.
By dawn she was being taken under heavy guard to Elsinore Castle, accompanied only by her infant daughter. Her little son, the heir to the throne, was left behind with his father. She would never see either of her children again. How it came to this is a story that began twenty years earlier, in a London house where a princess was born who was never meant to rule.
The future Queen of Denmark and Norway was born at Leicester House in London on July 22, 1751. She was the ninth and youngest child of Frederick, Prince of Wales, and his wife Augusta of Saxe-Gotha. Unlike many of her siblings, Caroline never knew her father. Frederick, the eldest son and heir of King George II, died suddenly on March 31, 1751, barely three months before Caroline was born.
He had not yet reached his forty-fifth birthday. For generations, it was said that Frederick’s death came from a lung abscess brought on by a blow from a cricket ball. It is a colorful explanation, though historians no longer put much faith in that theory. Her widowed mother raised her large family in seclusion at Leicester House, trying to keep the children away from the intrigues of the court of her father-in-law, King George II.
As she grew older, Caroline Matilda developed a lively, cheerful personality. She was described as temperamental but natural and spontaneous, qualities that set her apart from the stiff expectations of royal life. Unlike many princesses of her age, she seemed uninterested in politics or the complicated scheming of the court. Instead, she loved riding horses, learned to play the harpsichord, sang, and learned to speak French, German, and Italian alongside her native English.
In 1760, Caroline Matilda’s quiet childhood ended abruptly. Her grandfather, King George II, died, and her elder brother ascended the throne as George III. For the nine-year-old Caroline, everything changed overnight. She was no longer just a princess growing up in seclusion.
She was now the sister of a reigning king, which made her a valuable prize in the European marriage market. Soon, discussions began about who she might marry. Caroline had little say in the matter. Her future was decided according to her family’s political interests, and the man eventually chosen for her would take her into a marriage that would become a nightmare.
By 1764, plans were underway to secure a husband for Caroline Matilda, and Denmark—whose kings had long ruled Norway as a crowned kingdom—emerged as a possible destination. The Crown Prince of Denmark, Christian, was Caroline’s first cousin, his mother Louise being the sister of Caroline’s father. Such a marriage would strengthen the existing alliance between Britain and Denmark. But Caroline was not the Danish court’s first choice.
They had initially considered her elder sister Louisa Anne until their representative in London warned that her health was far too fragile. Attention then turned to thirteen-year-old Caroline Matilda. In January 1765, their betrothal was officially announced. Caroline was now destined to become the future Queen of Denmark.
Because Caroline was still so young, she did not leave for Denmark immediately. But everything changed in January 1766, when King Frederick V died and her future husband suddenly became King Christian VII. He was not yet seventeen years old. Then, on October 1 of that year, fifteen-year-old Caroline Matilda married Christian by proxy at St James’s Palace in London.
The very next morning, she left England for a country she had never seen, traveling to meet a husband she had never met. They finally met face to face at Roskilde in early November. On the eighth of that month, Caroline entered Copenhagen amid tremendous cheering from the crowds. That evening, she and Christian were formally married at Christiansborg Palace.
Finally, on May 1, 1767, the young king and queen were crowned together. Caroline Matilda was now officially Queen of Denmark. She did not know that her new royal life would soon slide into scandal, betrayal, and catastrophe. Behind the pageantry of Caroline Matilda’s arrival and marriage, serious problems were already emerging.
Christian was mentally ill. Modern writers have generally concluded that he suffered from schizophrenia, which made his behavior increasingly unpredictable. He showed little interest in his young wife and delayed consummating the marriage. Instead, he spent his nights carousing through the taverns and brothels of Copenhagen with a notorious circle of court favorites.
Among them was Anna Catherine Benthagen, who catered to the king’s fondness for women dressed as men and joined his raucous tours of the city disguised as a naval officer. In fact, Christian had not wanted this marriage in the first place. He had been pressured into it by his court, which hoped the marriage might somehow improve his troubled mental state. Some at court even whispered that the king preferred the company of men to women.
For Caroline, the result was the same. She had been sent to Denmark to become queen, only to find herself married to a husband who showed no interest in her existence. To add to her misery, the Danish courtiers showed Caroline no sympathy, and her only ally, the lady-in-waiting Louise von Plessen, was banished in 1768 due to court intrigues. Eventually, after being persuaded that the succession had to be secured by producing an heir, Christian performed his royal duty.
On January 28, 1768, Caroline gave birth to a son, Crown Prince Frederick. With the succession secured, Christian quickly returned to his old ways, spending his nights once again in the brothels and taverns of Copenhagen. Shortly afterward, the king left his wife in Copenhagen with their infant son and departed on a grand tour of Europe that lasted most of the year. During his absence, the young queen was accused of having an affair with lau, a handsome French actor and singer.
The claims were most likely untrue, but the gossip was damaging enough that lau was exiled after Christian’s return. Meanwhile, Caroline began forming friendships with ladies at court who were known for their love affairs, and they encouraged her to dance, flirt, and enjoy a more active social life. But the most significant consequence of Christian’s journey had not yet come. While traveling through Germany, the king’s behavior reportedly became ever more erratic, which was why his attendants hired a young doctor named Johann Friedrich Struensee.
He would soon become the man at the heart of a scandal that would destroy himself and Caroline Matilda together. Johann Struensee was born in Halle in 1737 and became a practicing physician in the city of Altona. He ended up in the service of the Danish crown after being engaged during Christian’s travels through Germany, and he proved a rare ability to handle the king’s violent mood swings, winning his trust. So when the court returned to Copenhagen in January 1769, he came with them and remained at the Danish court as royal physician.
At first, the queen treated the newcomer with great coldness. However, she began to warm to him as Struensee seemed to be one of the few at court who urged Christian to show more kindness toward his neglected wife, and the marriage briefly improved. It was not long before Struensee gained a strong position at court. In January 1770, he was given his own rooms in Christiansborg Palace, bringing the young doctor into the heart of the royal family.
At the same time, Christian VII became more passive and withdrawn as his mental health deteriorated, leaving more of the daily business of government in Struensee’s hands. Then, in the spring, Struensee earned Caroline Matilda’s gratitude in a way that brought them dangerously close. When smallpox swept through Denmark, he successfully inoculated Crown Prince Frederick, saving the child’s life. Caroline’s trust in the charming doctor deepened, and soon that trust turned into something far more intimate.
By the summer of 1770, the queen and the king’s physician were no longer merely close. Their relationship had become an open secret. Perhaps the affair might have been allowed to continue had it not been so politically sensitive. With her husband often incapacitated and Caroline’s role in running the government growing, anxiety mounted in the Danish court that Struensee, a foreigner, had become the real power broker at court.
In September 1770, the veteran foreign minister, Count Johann von Bernstorff, was dismissed, with suspicions that the German doctor was behind the decision. Then, in July 1771, a royal decree appointed Struensee a minister with the authority to issue orders as if he did so with Christian’s authority. Thus, for an extraordinary period of about sixteen months after von Bernstorff’s fall, a German doctor became the de facto ruler of Denmark, issuing more than a thousand decrees in the king’s name. His policies were controversial and would change Danish society.
He abolished prior censorship and attacked many of the privileges enjoyed by the nobility, while attempting to reform the harsh system of forced labor for peasants. Of course, this created powerful enemies for him among the conservative elite. And while he was reshaping the kingdom, Caroline Matilda was changing too. The young queen gained new confidence, riding horses and appearing at some occasions in masculine riding clothes.
She also surrounded herself with people from outside the traditional aristocratic circle—behavior that only added to the growing scandal around the queen and her controversial lover. Then came the moment that seemed to confirm the worst suspicions of Struensee’s enemies. On July 7, 1771, Caroline Matilda gave birth to a daughter, Louise Augusta. Christian VII acknowledged the child as his own, but soon people at court began whispering that she was really Struensee’s daughter.
Behind closed doors, she was mockingly nicknamed “la petite Struensee. ”
The rumors did not stop there. Shortly after the birth, an even more explosive story began to spread. It was alleged that Caroline and Struensee intended to imprison the king and make Caroline regent of Denmark.
The accusation was certainly absurd, but by that point, the truth mattered less than what people were willing to believe. Ironically, the very freedom of the press that Struensee had championed helped spread the stories that would destroy him. Copenhagen filled with pamphlets and newspapers mocking his affair with the queen, while the opposition at court gathered around the king’s ambitious stepmother, Queen Juliana Maria, her son Frederick, and their adviser Ove Høegh-Guldberg. Together, they were no longer content merely to conspire against the king’s favorite.
They were preparing to bring down the queen herself. The alliance formed against Caroline and her lover struck at last on the night of January 16, 1772, during a masquerade ball at Christiansborg Palace. Caroline danced into the early hours, completely unaware that the conspirators had already begun their move. Once the palace had gone quiet, they entered the terrified king’s bedroom and persuaded him to sign a series of arrest warrants, including one for Struensee.
The doctor was seized in his bed and taken to prison. Then, just before dawn, armed men entered the queen’s private apartments. Caroline was arrested, and that morning she was sent under heavy guard to Elsinore Castle with only her infant daughter. Her little son, the heir to the throne, was left behind with his father.
The interrogation began almost immediately. After three days of intense questioning, Struensee finally confessed to his sinful relationship with the queen. In March, his signed confession was shown to Caroline. Realizing that denial was useless, she signed it herself.
Perhaps she hoped that confessing to the affair might save her lover’s life. But if that was her aim, it failed. Struensee was put on trial and executed on April 28, 1772. He was thirty-four years old.
By that time, Caroline was no longer Queen of Denmark and Norway. Her marriage to Christian had been dissolved on April 6, and the young queen’s fate now lay in the hands of her brother across the sea. George III could do nothing to restore his sister’s marriage or reputation, but the imprisonment of a British princess was considered a grave diplomatic insult that could not be tolerated. The British envoy in Copenhagen, Sir Robert Murray Keith, threatened the Danes with a complete rupture of relations and possibly war if Caroline were not released.
The Danish government eventually relented. Caroline would retain the right to call herself queen, and her journals would be returned to her, but there was a heavy price. She had to leave Denmark, while her children would remain in Copenhagen. At the end of May 1772, a small British naval force anchored off Elsinore.
Caroline boarded one of the ships and sailed into exile. She was not yet twenty-one, and she was never to see her son or daughter again. Caroline did not return to England. Given the circumstances of her downfall in Copenhagen, her brother George III felt that the return of his disgraced sister to the British court would create an awkward and possibly damaging situation.
Instead, she was sent to live at the old Celle Castle in Hanover, a territory under the control of the British royal family. There, Caroline established a small court and lived a secluded life, eventually reuniting with her former lady-in-waiting, Mrs. von Plessen. But Caroline was not forgotten in Denmark.
The new order dominated by Christian’s stepmother, Queen Dowager Juliana Maria, quickly became deeply unpopular. By the autumn of 1774, a group of Danish nobles was secretly plotting to overthrow the government and restore Caroline to Copenhagen as regent for her young son, while the incapacitated Christian remained king in name only. Their intermediary was an English adventurer named Nathaniel Wraxall, who arrived to present this extraordinary proposal to Caroline. She was willing to consider it, and Wraxall was sent to London to obtain the approval of King George III.
For a brief moment, the opportunity existed for Caroline Matilda to return to Denmark—not as an exiled queen, but as a ruler. But before her brother could make a final decision, illness and death brought the whole scheme crashing down. In the spring of 1775, an epidemic fever swept through northern Germany, generally believed to have been a wave of scarlet fever. At Celle, the queen caught the infection, and after a short illness she died on May 10, 1775, at just twenty-three years old.
A letter attributed to her on her deathbed asserts her innocence to her brother King George one last time. Yet there is no doubt about Caroline’s betrayal with Struensee. She was buried in the church vault at Celle, beside her great-grandmother Sophia Dorothea, the former wife of the first Hanoverian King of England, George I, whose own story of betrayal and punishment mirrored what Caroline had lived through. In Denmark, Caroline’s son finally seized power in 1784 at the age of sixteen, though his father Christian VII remained king in name until his death in 1808.
Caroline’s son then became King Frederick VI and ruled Denmark until 1839. Her daughter, Louise Augusta, remained at the Danish court and lived her entire life as the daughter of Christian VII, despite the widespread belief that Struensee was her real father. In the end, Caroline Matilda never returned to Denmark and never saw either of her children again.
She had barely completed five years as queen, but her short and controversial reign left behind a story of love, political revolution, a disputed princess, and one of the most notorious chapters in Danish royal history.