A curious circumstance, which I find only in one pamphlet,[54] is, that the smith at the citadel was a slave whom, about a year before, Struensee had seen in the streets of the capital chained. This man had asked him for alms, and begged him to intercede with the king to procure his liberty. At that time the minister gave him alms, and said to him, "You do not wear this chain on account of your virtue." When this fellow put the chain on his prisoner, he remarked: "Your excellency, I do not put this chain on you on account of your virtue." Shut up in this awful dungeon, Struensee, who had so suddenly been hurled from power into the lowest state of misery, and was unable to endure the contrast between the past and present, revolved means for putting an end to his existence. Pretending to be suffering from toothache, he begged the turnkey to send some one to his cabinet, where he would find some tooth-powder in paper, which would lull the pain. This powder, on being examined by Von Berger the physician, proved to be a dangerous poison, and hence it was not given to the prisoner. Struensee then resolved to starve himself to death; for three days he was allowed to do as he pleased; but on the fourth the commandant gave orders that he was to eat and drink, and unless he did so of his own accord, he was to be thrashed until his appetite returned. Certainly, a very Danish mode of creating an appetite; but this desperate conduct on the part of the prisoner was a natural result of his insupportable arrest; for had it been rendered more humane, it would not have been necessary to threaten him with such barbarity. After awhile, Struensee promised to behave himself better, and a bed was given him on which he could lie down. But all the buttons were cut off his clothes, because he had twisted off and swallowed a couple of them. His shoe and knee buckles were also removed, and he was made to wear an iron cap, so that he could not dash his brains out against the wall. At last the hope of saving his life gained the victory over the prisoner's desperation; he began to occupy himself with reading, and thus calmed his outraged feelings. Count Brandt endured his terrible fate with a perfectly different temper. He was always cheerful, and almost merry, played the flute, his favourite air being one from the "Déserteur," beginning "Mourir c'est notre dernier ressort," and saved six schillings out of the twenty-four he received daily, which he intended as a present for his future executioner. One of his favourite expressions was, "A small mind may allow itself to be depressed by trifles, but a great one raises its head high above fate." Brandt also had a chain three yards long given him, so that he might lie down on a bed.[55]