mattered little what the Queen thought, or did not think, but now her influence with the King was growing every day. [120] _Vide_ Gunning's despatch, Copenhagen, March 31, 1770. _Ibid._, April 24, 1770. Eventually Filosofow had to retire from Copenhagen and give place to another, but that was not yet. At this time he again warned Bernstorff that his days of power were numbered, unless he forthwith took steps to get Struensee removed from court. In this the envoy proved more far-sighted than the minister, for Bernstorff still considered it an incredible thing that his position could be seriously threatened. Yet within a month of the Russian's warning the extraordinary favour which Struensee enjoyed with the King and Queen was further demonstrated. The small-pox raged in Denmark in the spring of this year, 1770, and in Copenhagen alone twelve hundred children died of it. Struensee advised that the Crown Prince should be inoculated as a prevention. Inoculation had lately been introduced into Denmark, and Struensee's suggestion was met with a storm of protest from some of the nobility, all the clergy and many of the doctors. Despite this Struensee carried his point; he inoculated the Crown Prince and watched over him in the brief illness that followed. Matilda herself nursed her son, and would not leave his bedside day or night. Her presence in the sick-room threw the Queen and the doctor continually together. Struensee was justified of his wisdom, for the Crown Prince not only escaped the small-pox, but soon rallied from the inoculation which it had been freely prophesied would cause his death. The doctor was rewarded with signal marks of the royal favour; he was given the title of Conferenzrath, or Councillor of Conference, which elevated him to the second class, and was appointed reader to the King, _lecteur du roi_, and private secretary to the Queen, with a salary of three thousand dollars. Ministers were amazed at the sudden elevation of the favourite, and began to ask themselves whither all this was tending.