Peder Griffenfeld - Career

Career

On his return to Copenhagen, in 1662, Schumacher found the monarchy established on the ruins of the aristocracy, and eager to buy the services of every man of the middle classes who had superior talents to offer. The young adventurer contrived to secure the protection of Kristoffer Gabel, the king's confidant, and in 1663 was appointed the royal librarian. A romantic friendship with the king's bastard, Count Ulric Frederick Gyldenløve, consolidated his position. In 1665 Schumacher obtained his first political post as the king's secretary, and the same year composed the memorable Kongelov. He was now a personage at court, where he won many over by his amiability and gaiety; and in political matters also his influence was beginning to be felt.

On the death of Frederick III (9 February 1670) Schumacher was the most trusted of all the royal counsellors. He alone was aware of the existence of the new throne of walrus ivory embellished with three silver life-size lions, and of the new regalia, both of which treasures he had, by the king's command, concealed in a vault beneath the royal castle. Frederick III had also confided to him a sealed packet containing the Kongelov, which was to be delivered to his successor alone. Schumacher had been recommended to his son by Frederick III on his death-bed. "Make him a great man, but do it slowly," said Frederick, who thoroughly understood the characters of his son and of his minister. Christian V was, moreover, deeply impressed by the confidence which his father had ever shown to Schumacher. When, on 9 February 1670, Schumacher delivered the Kongelov to Christian V, the king bade all those about him withdraw, and after being closeted a good hour with Schumacher appointed him his Obergeheimesekreter.

His promotion was rapid. In May 1670 he received the titles of excellency and privy councillor; in July of the same year he was ennobled under the name of Griffenfeld, deriving his title from the gold griffin with outspread wings which surmounted his escutcheon; in November 1673 he was created a count, a knight of the Order of the Elephant and, finally, imperial chancellor In the course of the next few months he gathered into his hands every branch of the government: he had reached the apogée of his short-lived greatness.

He had captivated the accomplished Frederick III by his literary graces and ingenious speculations; he won over the obtuse and ignorant Christian V by saving him trouble, by acting and thinking for him, and whilst making him believe that he was thinking and acting for himself. Moreover, his commanding qualities were coupled with an organizing talent which made itself felt in every department of the state, and with a marvellous adaptability which made him a great diplomat.

On 25 May 1671 the dignities of count and baron were introduced into Denmark; a few months later the Order of the Dannebrog was instituted as a fresh means of winning adherents by marks of favour. Griffenfeld was the originator of these new institutions. To him monarchy was the ideal form of government. But he had also a political object. The aristocracy of birth, despite its reverses, still remained the elite of society; and Griffenfeld, the son of a burgess, was its most determined enemy. The new baronies and countships, owing their existence entirely to the crown, introduced a strong solvent into aristocratic circles. Griffenfeld saw that, in future, the first at court would be the first everywhere. Much was also done to promote trade and industry, notably by the revival of the Kammer Kollegium, or board of trade, and the abolition of some of the most harmful monopolies. Both the higher and the provincial administrations were thoroughly reformed with the view of making them more centralized and efficient; and the positions and duties of the various magistrates, who now also received fixed salaries, were for the first time exactly defined. But what Griffenfeld could create, Griffenfeld could dispense with, and it was not long before he began to encroach upon the jurisdiction of the new departments of state by private conferences with their chiefs. Nevertheless it is indisputable that, under the single direction of this master-mind, the Danish state was now able, for a time, to utilize all its resources as it had never done before.

In the last three years of his administration, Griffenfeld gave himself entirely to the conduct of the foreign policy of Denmark. It is difficult to form a clear idea of this, first, because his influence was perpetually traversed by opposite tendencies; in the second place, because the force of circumstances compelled him, again and again, to shift his standpoint; and finally because personal considerations largely intermingled with his foreign policy, and made it more elusive and ambiguous than. it need have been. Briefly, Griffenfeld aimed at restoring Denmark to the rank of a great power. He proposed to accomplish this by carefully nursing her resources, and in the meantime securing and enriching her by alliances, which would bring in large subsidies while imposing a minimum of obligations. Such a conditional and tentative policy, in a period of universal tension and turmoil, was most difficult; but Griffenfeld did not regard it as impossible.

The first demand of such a policy was peace, especially peace with Denmark's most dangerous neighbour, Sweden. The second postulate was a sound financial basis, which he expected the wealth of France to supply in the shape of subsidies to be spent on armaments. Above all things Denmark was to beware of making enemies of France and Sweden at the same time. An alliance, on fairly equal terms, between the three powers, would, in these circumstances, be the consummation of Griffenfeld's system; an alliance with France to the exclusion of Sweden would be the next best policy; but an alliance between France and Sweden, without the admission of Denmark, was to be avoided at all hazards. Had Griffenfeld's policy succeeded, Denmark might have recovered her ancient possessions to the south and east comparatively cheaply. But again and again he was overruled. Despite his open protests and subterraneous counter-mining, war was actually declared against Sweden in 1675, and his subsequent policy seemed so obscure and hazardous to those who did not possess the clue to the perhaps purposely tangled skein, that the numerous enemies whom his arrogance and superciliousness had raised up against him, resolved to destroy him.