- --=r-*-»i^ -V r-.f-

YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

From the Library of
ANNIE BURR JENNINGS
the gift of
ANNIE BURR LEWIS

THE LOVE OF AN UNCROWNED QUEEN
VOL. II

<XiUi.J.^r&L m>^ iPAJc

THE LOVE OF AN
UNCROWNED QUEEN
SOPHIE DOROTHEA, CONSORT
OF GEORGE I., and her Correspondence
with Philip Christopher Count Konigs-
MARCK (Now first published from the originals)

W. H. WILKINS
M.A. Clare College, Cambridge,
Fellow of ike Royal Historical Society,
Author of " The Romance of Isabel Lady BurtoH "

WITH 42 PORTRAITS AND ILLUSTRATIONS

VOL. II

HERBERT S. STONE & COMPANY
CHICAGO AND NEW YORK
MDCCCC

CONTENTS

CHAPTER xviii
PAGE
KONIGSMARCK RETURNS FROM THE WAR. . . 343

CHAPTER XIX
THE TRYST AT BROCKHAUSEN ... . 375
CHAPTER XX
love's BITTERNESS  4^5
CHAPTER XXI
THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE DANES . . .441
CHAPTER XXII
THE GATHERING STORM  477
CHAPTER XXIII
THE MURDER OF KONIGSMARCK .... 50O

vi Contents
CHAPTER XXIV PAGE
THE RUIN OF THE PRINCESS . . . 518
CHAPTER XXV
THE DIVORCE  S4S
CHAPTER XXVI
THE PRISONER OF AHLDEN  57°
CHAPTER XXVII
THE FLIGHT OF YEARS  59^
CHAPTER XXVIII
CROWN AND GRAVE  627
CHAPTER XXIX
RETRIBUTION  652
APPENDIX  663
INDEX . .  667

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PHILIP CHRISTOPHER COUNT KONIGSMARCK
SOPHIE DOROTHEA . . . .
THE CASTLE OF AHLDEN (fROM THE RIVER)
THE ELECTOR ERNEST AUGUSTUS OF HANOVER .
" THE CASTLE BEHIND THE MILL "
THE ELECTRESS SOPHIA ...
THE CASTLE OF CELLE (fROM THE " FRENCH GARDEN ") .
HERRENHAUSEN 
THE LEINE SCHLOSS, HANOVER 
AUGUSTUS THE STRONG AND THE KING OF PRUSSIA .
THE MURDER OF KONIGSMARCK ....
THE ENTRANCE TO THE CASTLE OF AHLDEN
SOPHIE DOROTHEA SPURNING THE DIADEM
SOPHIE Dorothea's wing of the castle of ahlden
PRINCE GEORGE AUGUSTUS OF HANOVER .
QUEEN ANNE .... 
PRINCESS CAROLINE OF ANSPACH
STATUE OF THE ELECTRESS SOPHIA
KING GEORGE I. . .
THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA . ....
THE CHURCH AT CELLE, WHERE SOPHIE DOROTHEA IS BURIED .
vii

Frontispiece

•eing p. 35°

352

372

382

394

424
45°
472
484
512
546
564
578
598
602
614
624
630
640
654
CHAPTER XVIII
KONIGSMARCK RETURNS FROM THE WAR
Come back ! from love of thee my soul is glowing,
Come back ! without thee my sad heart is grieving,
Come back ! for by thy absence, my beloved one.
Bewildered, bitter tears in floods are flowing. HafIz.
THE Princess and her mother went to the Frank
fort fair ; but their visit was a brief one, and
the Prince of Hesse was prevented from meeting them,
so Konigsmarck's jealous fears were groundless. From
Frankfort the Duchess of Celle took her daughter back
with her to EpsdorfF, where the Duke was a-hunting.
We find KOnigsmarck writing, "At present my
greatest happiness is to know that you are at Epsdorff,
and you are going to stay." ^ But the Princess re
mained there only a few days, as her presence was
imperatively required at Hanover, where the Elector
and Electress of Brandenburg had at last arrived on
their long-expected visit, and were being entertained
with every mark of honour. The Duke of Hanover
was anxious to be invested with the Electoral dignity
' Kdnigsmarck to the Priucess, Ghent, September —
VOL. II. 343 I

344 XCbe Xove of an Ulncrownet) Giueen
forthwith, and urged the Elector of Brandenburg to
put pressure upon the Emperor.
The defeat at Steinkirk had sown discontent among
the AUies, and many of them, including the Duke of
Hanover, if he did not receive his dues, were ready
to lend ear again to Louis. Colt writes : " Balati [the
French envoy] is at last returned, bringing many fine
things with him, especially for the ladies, and he says so
many fine things of the French Court in public, besides
what he doth in private, that I have met with much
coldness from the Minister, Count Platen, and his lady,
who govern all things here ; and if I could speak with
the tongue of an angell, and this Duke's interest were
never so much on my side, it would avail but little,
unless I did make some presents as they had from
France." ^ The Duke, a born diplomat, temporised
with France, and got what he wanted from the Elector
of Brandenburg, who brought his visit to a close, well
pleased, and departed with many expressions of good
will. Two days later the Duke of Hanover went to
carry the good tidings to the Duke of CeUe at Gohre.
With all this important public business on hand
it would not have been surprising if private and Court
intrigues had been for the time overlooked ; but it was
not so. While the princes were busy with affairs of
State, the princesses were no less concerned with family
matters. In some way the intimacy between Sophie
Dorothea and KSnigsmarck had again attracted atten
tion. Perhaps some of the letters miscarried (it is
noteworthy that none of the Princess's letters from
' Colt's Despatch, Hanover, September 27, 1692.

Iftdntgsmatcft IReturns from tbe Mar 345
Frankfort are preserved), or the servants babbled to
Countess Platen and aroused her jealousy afresh, or the
Duchess of Celle, who narrowly watched her daughter
while she was with her, discovered something and com
municated her fears to the Duke. However that may
have been, suspicion was aroused, and it was deter
mined to prevent Konigsmarck and the Princess from
coming together again. Suspicion fell on Countess
Aurora as an accomplice in the intrigue, and Duke
Ernest Augustus sent her a message to the effect that
she would do well to avoid Hanover in the future.
Konigsmarck also seems to have received a hint that
other princes might find his services more useful.
All this threw both the Princess and her lover into
great alarm and agitation, though their fears, in either
case, were not on account of personal danger (which
was considerable), but lest they should be parted from
one another. Much of this is told in the five letters
that follow. The Princess to Konigsmarck. "[Hanover], ^^^?:^*^
>- -I October 8.
"It is not enough for me to be bowed down to
the earth by the fear of losing you, but you must add
to the peine by being dissatisfied with me. AU the
rest is nothing in comparison with this last affliction ;
it makes me obhvious to everything else. I can find
no comfort anywhere. You reproach me with having
met La Marionette [the Princess of Hesse] as arranged
at Frankfort. I could not help going there ; my

346 zbc %ox>c Of an Tttncrowneb (Slueen
mother insisted on it. Besides, I knew that the Prince
was not coming with his sister ; I thought him much
farther away than he actually was. In any case,
everything passed off so well that you are the most
unjust of men if you are not satisfied. I did not
see a single person there worth mentioning, as I have
already told you. The person you sent to spy has
doubtless informed you to the same effect, and I am
hoping that the first letter I receive from you will
give me as much joy as the last four have given me
sorrow. They are all in the same strain, and I am
desperate because you are so unjust. My life ought
to show that my love for you is unequaUed. I have
ceased to take interest in anything, and for this long
while have sacrificed everything for you — to better
prove I am worthy of your love.
" If I must give up seeing you, I wiU give up the
world altogether. I cannot contemplate such a thing.
Yet I fear I must be prepared for it, for the Electress
of Brandenburg has told me that you wiU be sent
away, but on some pretext which will not apparently
concern me ; she had it from Countess Platen. I can
not describe to you the state I have been in for the
last four or five days ; if grief could kill, I should surely
be dead. I no longer sleep, I do not eat at all, and
I am a prey to gloomy foreboding. It may be that
time and absence will cure you of your passion, but
mine will end only with my life. That is a truth time
will show. I have your portrait. I cannot look on
it without tears ; I wish it might testify to the
intensity of my sorrow and love. I fear many afflic-

tkonigsmarcft IReturns from tbe milar

347

tions and misfortunes are In store. Le BarbouUIeur
is in league with Countess Platen and her cabal. He
tries to harm Aurora in everything he possibly can,
and went so far as to say to the Duchess Sophia
that she was a ' she-devil.' I should hardly have
beheved he could have been so base a coward as
that. I told you that he once began to show airs
to me, but he did not go far ; the anger I evinced
soon stopped him.
" You say you are ' going to Brussels to cure
yourself How can you have the cruelty to write
such a thing to me — who am so sensitive and tender ?
Anger alone spoke when you wrote those words.
You don't mean to go. I know not yet by what
mischance one of your letters was opened : La
Confidente is trying to find out ; fortunately you say
little in it. But you tell me that they wIU force you
to leave me. Let me know what makes you think
so; reassure me In my trouble and anxiety. My
love is proof against all ; I vow you an everlasting
constancy. " The Duke [of Hanover] went away this morning
on a visit to my father.^ He took only Le BarbouUIeur
with him. I believe the Duchess wUl follow, and I shall
go with her, unless the Prince should arrive soon. . . .
I have been interrupted at this point in an alarming
manner. I thought I was perfectly safe, for I gave
' At the Duke of Celle's hunting-seats of Epsdorff and Gohre. In
his Despatch, September 30, 1692, Colt mentions that the " Elector of
Brandenburg has gone home and that the Duke of Hanover is with
his brother, hunting."

348 trbe %ovc of an xnincrowneJ) (Slueen
orders to say that I was asleep. I had your portrait
quite near me, attached to a screen, and. . . . ^
the Princess to Konigsmarck. " [Hanover], October -~
" I have heard nothing from you for a week. I
am In despair, for I have never been in such need of
consolation as now. I stIU hope to receive a letter
from you this evening, but If that hope should fail
I know not what wiU become of me. I have
endless things to tell you. I would give my blood
to be able to tell them to you by word of mouth,
but I see little or no chance of It. If you could come
secretly I think the plan might succeed. I shall go
to meet the Prince,^ but I shall be there only a few
days ; we shall return here together. The matter they
are trying to arrange, and on which depends my visit to
the Electress of Brandenburg, is almost settled. There
seems to be no doubt that the investiture will take
place In four or five weeks. Knowing your temper,
I am not sure If you will approve of my visit. I can
assure you I think only of how to escape from going ;
but It Is very difficult, for I have not to deal with
children, and In the present state of things It would be
harder to make excuses than at any other time. Let
me know your wishes, and think, too, of some sensible
expedient, in case you should not wish me to go.
The Prince has written a ridiculous letter, with an
' The end of this letter is not to be found.
' The Prince of Hanover had returned from the campaign to
Luisburg.

IkoniGsmarcft IReturns from tbe Mar 349
order to give it, from him, to Le BarbouUIeur, with
his compliments. I did nothing of the kind. La
Confidente returned It to him without a word from
me. He avoids me as much as I shun him. No
one could spend a more miserable life than I do. I am
in a perpetual state of terror, and, to crown all, your
letters are so cold that they make me lose patience.
I declare, every one conspires against me. Instead
of loving me more firmly than ever, you over
whelm me with unreasonable complaints. Maybe
you rejoice at the obstacles in the way of my
happiness. While I am fretting my heart out here,
and have not a moment's peace for fear they may
part us for ever, you may be secretly tasting the
joys of new conquests, without giving me so much
as a thought. I am surprised that I stiU keep my
reason, or know what I am saying. Persecuted as I
am on aU sides, tormented by anxiety on your account,
I should not wonder if my brain were to give way.
I have never deserved your love more than now.
However bitterly you may reproach me, however much
I may fear, nothing shakes my resolve to love you
for ever, and to prove it to you aU I can. They can
hinder me from seeing you, but they can never keep
me from being yours all my life long : you take the
place of all to me. They told the Duke [of Hanover]
that you moved to another house with your sister
Aurora, and so sought to lure me to your place.
Think of that ! How they seek to ruin you ! 1 did
not sleep all night thinking of our being parted for
ever. I know now the agony of separation so well

35° trbe aLove of an XHncrowneb dlueen
that I dread it more than death. Yet I believe with
a litde prudence and good behaviour one could remedy
aU these evils, but I would rather speak to you about
the measures to be taken than write. When shall
I have that bliss } It seems very far away. I am
so uncertain about your feelings towards me that I
hardly know what to think. It is my great anxiety,
for were I sure of your love my sufferings would
be much less. I am trembling as I write — I fear'
every sound ; but I worship you, and as long as you
love me I can console myself easily about all the rest."
Konigsmarck to the Princess. " Denise, September —
30.
" We have sent our baggage on to Ghent, and as I
am in need of paper, I beg your pardon for using loose
pieces which I pick up from anywhere. I cannot hide
from you any longer my fear that they will separate
us soon. To tell you all. My sisters wished to go
through Hanover on their way to  . Marshal
PodevIIs, knowing they had arrived at Hamburg,
asked leave to go and see them. The Duke told
him he knew my sisters were there, and he had
been Informed that Aurora wished to visit Hanover.
He therefore begged the Marshal to tell her with
his compliments that he had the highest regard
for her, but she would do him a great favour in
changing her plans, as she and all her house had
witnessed their last carnival at Hanover.^ My sister,
' The Duke evidently thought the Countess Aurora was coming to
Hanover for the carnival in the winter.

SOPHIE DOROTHEA.
From a Di awing formerly at SIraivbcrrv Hill.

[To face p. 350.

Ikonlgsmarcft "IReturns from tbe Mar 351
astonished at such a message, which perhaps was never
before sent to a lady of quality, begged Marshal
PodevIIs In reply to tell His Highness that she had
not expected such civlhty from a prince, or one who
passed as such, and it was easy to obey his com
mands, as she had no Intention of spending another
winter In Hanover, for the last visit gave her no
longing to return. Her answer was smart enough,
but I wish she had written it to Monseigneur le Due,
for PodevIIs will not tell it to him like that. You
can see how far the power of that woman ^ goes ; we
all have to fear her. She was waiting for the Marshal
after his interview with His Highness at Luisburg,
and said to him : ' I know you are going to see
Konigsmarck's sisters at Hamburg, and they tell me
Countess Aurora Is coming to Hanover. I can allow
her to return to Court If His Highness Is willing to
permit it, though we have no great confidence in her.'
These are the exact words she used, and I do not
know whether they mean that the Duke or the
Countess has no confidence in her. I don't think
Aurora cares much about the confidence of either ;
her greatest trouble Is that she cannot pay her respects
to Madame la Princesse. You will understand how
these things worry and distress me. I have thought
of writing to Marshal PodevUs and begging him to teU
me if this affair was doing me harm with the Duke, as
I should have to take precautions, and adding that I
expect him to do me this kindness as a good friend of
our house ; but as his answer would probably be to
' Countess Platen.

352 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb (Siueen
advise me to leave [the Duke's service], I have not
carried out my intention without knowing your wishes,
which are my law. If, however, you give me leave,
you will see a fine row, for I will avenge myself on
this insult in such a manner that the whole world will
talk about It, though that pleasure would cost me
dear, for I should have to leave you." "Afflegen, October-^ i6.
" I was hindered the day before yesterday from
finishing my letter by the alarm that the French were
going to attack Charleroy,'' but it came to nothing,
and therefore I am able to write now. As my previous
letters seem to have upset you so much, I am dying to
know what there was In them to offend you so greatly.
You command me to make the amende honorable ; I
willingly do so. I am only too happy to find myself
mistaken, and hope you will forgive me. The Prince
of Wiirtemburg's affair must have prevented the Prince
of Hesse from carrying out his Intention of going
to the fair. I have not heard who went to Frankfort,
but I think that ma cherie has been badly rewarded
for her trouble In going to the fair, for I hear very
few men of quality were there. You are good enough
to say if I find anything In your letters to vex me
I must put it down to anger : of course, one must
pardon anything from an angry lady, so teU me, I
pray you, what shall I do to make It up with you.''
' Colt's Despatch, Gohre, October 17 : " We have just heard the
welcome news that the French have failed in their design on Charleroy ;
they were for the most part sure here that Charleroy must be taken."

THE CASTLE OF AHLDEN.
(From the river.')

[Tofacep. 352..

Iftonigsmarcft IReturns from tbe Mar 353
Command me and I will obey. My crime Is suspicion.
Surely it Is only right and fair that I should tell you
my fears, even though I may be In the wrong. I own
I am wrong, and am ready to offer you any reparation.
I have never sighed ' for fresh conquests ' since I
paid my court to you. To be sure of your heart
is my only happiness and desire ; but. Beloved, I cannot
suffer any rivals. . . . All the treasures, all the pleasures,
all the charms of the world will not lure me from the
woman who has my heart. You may be sure that
neither kings nor riches, neither castles nor all the
tortures of hell, would make me change."
" Six o'clock, from Charleroy, October — '-
'¦' '20.
" I sighed a long time for your letters. Two came
yesterday. I opened them with joy, but gladness was
soon changed to direst grief. My misery Is so great
that it wUl surely drive me to some desperate deed.
I was so troubled and distraught that I did not notice
yesterday that the King was looking for me In the
crowd, and bowed to me. Monsieur Billow warned
me, otherwise I should not have seen him. The order
that our troops are to go to the rehef of Charleroy
could not have come more a propos, for I shaU seek
death there, and so find relief from my troubles. Think
only of yourself, and take every care that their sus
picions may not get you Into trouble. I implore you
do this. 1 will bear aU the disgrace with joy If only
I see you out of danger. I will gladly, be of all
men the most miserable, I will give up the only
woman I have ever loved in my life, I will leave

3S4 trbe %ovc of an tUncrowneb diueen
the Hanoverian service, and so be deprived at one
blow of my divinity, my calling, and my consolation.
The North takes away from me the means of
livelihood,^ and even in play bad luck persecutes me.
See to what plight I have come ! I have borne ruin
and disgrace with impunity, happy in the joy of
being able to love you with a lasting love, but now
I must live without you ! I cannot do so. If I
have to leave you I must leave life too. Charleroy
wIU help me ; there I wiU seek death to end my
sorrow. ... If death does not decide my fate, I
will never abandon you — not even though I were
poisoned, massacred, beaten black and blue, or burned
alive. But I talk like a man who has lost his
reason. I do not see how in suffering all these
Insults I am gaining you. I am only drawing on
you no end of trouble. I must give you up ; but.
If I must die, I will die avenging myself on those
who are forcing me to abandon you.
" My greatest grudge Is against La Platen, and
on her I will avenge myself, for to her I attribute
aU my misfortunes. I will seek out her son, pick a
quarrel with him, and send him to the other world.
After that I will tell everybody how she persecuted
me, tell them also all the foolish things I did with
her, and then. If the Duke still shuts his eyes, the
first time I meet her off her dung-hill I will insult
her so publicly that all her life long she will never
dare to show her face again. But how smaU is
such revenge In comparison with the harm she does
' The King of Sweden was threatening to confiscate his estates.

IRonigsmarcft IReturns from tbe Mar 3ss
me ! for she robs me of the only joy I have In the
world. I lived only for ma cherie, I wore her chains
with gladness ; she was my joy, my divinity, my all.
Imagine, therefore, the misery this jade of a Platen
brings upon me ! If I were lord of creation I would
offer a sacrifice of her, and give her to the bears
to eat ; the lions should suck her devU's blood, the
tigers tear her cowardly heart out. I would spend day
and night seeking new torments to punish her for
her black infamy in separating a man, who loves to
distraction, from the object of his love. ... I thought
It very likely they would try to remove me because
they egged on my sister Aurora to send so rude an
answer to the Duke. But as to what you tell me
from the Electress of Brandenburg, don't you think
she said it to see whether you would betray yourself;
for I cannot believe that La Platen would have said
that to her ! Should the Duke come to hear of it
she would be ruined.
"Your last letter of the 28th comforts me a little,
for you say that you will always be faithful to me, and
all these persecutions only serve to encourage you in
that determination. You give me back life. Should
their plan of sending me away from you come to
anything, we shaU see what will happen. I do not
see any way for you to make me happy unless you,
some time or another, confide In your mother that
your love and my removal would make you do
something foolish. That fear will either make them
keep me near at hand or send me to the other world.
They are desperate remedies ; but If one cannot

35 6 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneD (S^ueen
hope, one fears nothing. I know not If my dear one
takes my meaning.
" U envoi. — -The mischance with the portrait makes
me tremble. If I see you again I will take care
to be hidden. Is It possible that you think your
assurances of love weary me ? Your letters are the
only joy I have. Continue to send them, I pray you,
and be wise. I read the last word with as much joy
as the beginning — if only you do not speak of my
removal or of your going away for some time. The
sweetest part of your letter Is where you ask me to
tell you what to do so as to obey. I entreat you,
do not suffer them to part us ; use every effort to
prevent it, and if in the end it must be, come with
me, following the fate of Leonnisse and her chevalier ;
it is the only real way for us to be happy."
The Princess's letters are now missing, and we are
left to gather the substance of them from Konigsmarck's
epistles. Apparently the Princess did not approve
of the desperate remedies suggested In his last letter.
As Konigsmarck often complains, she was of a timid
disposition and not given to heroic measures. She was
unwiUing to take her mother into her confidence ; she
was not prepared to leave all and flee with, her lover,
except as a last resort, nor did she approve of his
writing to the Field-marshal. She took counsel. It
seems, with the Electress of Brandenburg, who, she
must surely have realised, had she reflected, was one of
her worst enemies. The Electress does not appear In
an amiable light in this affair. Like her mother and

"Konigsmarcft IReturns from tbe Mar 357
aU her house, she hated and despised Sophie Dorothea,
but, unlike her mother, her conduct was by no means
free from reproach. Her Intrigues were many and
notorious, and she seems to have suspended her animosity
towards her sister-in-law for a time in the pleasure It
gave her to find that she had an affaire too, though there
was no point of resemblance between her numerous
light-of-love intrigues and Sophie Dorothea's one
great and sincere love-passion. The Electress advised
her according to her lights. Sophie Dorothea was to
temporise ; to make her peace with Countess Platen,
whose jealousy was at the bottom of the whole
business ; to advise KSnIgsmarck to do the same, and
all would be well. The advice was unworthy, but
the unhappy Princess resolved to foUow it. It seemed
to her the only thing to be done, and anything was
preferable to separation from her lover. In her new
found confidence with the Electress of Brandenburg
she paid her a brief visit at one of her country
palaces. MeanwhUe Konigsmarck was trying in vain to obtain
his leave and return to Hanover and his divinity ;
but on some pretext or another it was always refused.
The campaign was now at an end. King WiUiam
had gone back to England, the Prince of Hanover
had left the camp, and all the electors and princes
had departed their several ways. The Hanoverian
troops were sent to the garrison at Dist, Into winter
quarters, and Konigsmarck with them. Impatient at
the delay In getting his leave, he threatened to
return to Hanover without it, though this would be

35 8 trbe Xove of an tttncrowneb <aueen
tantamount to resignation, and so play into the
hands of his enemies. He writes : "Jenappe, October 25.
" You know well that rather than do anything which
might displease you I would be torn Into a thousand
pieces. I wIU therefore not write to the Field-marshal,
but obey your commands in this as in other things ;
It will always be a joy for me to do so.
" I cannot understand what it means about my sister
Aurora wishing to estrange the ducal family. I am
curious to know what she has done. Since you wrote
so freely to Aurora, I hope you will teU her to burn
your letters. The phrase ' kind person ' In the mouth
of La Platen has a hidden meaning ; it is evident
she suspects something without quite knowing what,
for I am certain if she reaUy knew the least thing
she would not fail to inform those who ought not to
know it. I do not at all agree with the Electress of
Brandenburg's advice. My soul would be very base
to pretend submission to a person who is persecuting
you. Were it not for your sake I would make her
pay for aU the harm she does to honest people. I
cannot understand the Electress speaking so freely to
you about me and La Platen. There is something
hidden which I hope to discover." "Louvain, October ^
27-
" I have arrived here at last, but have not yet got
my leave. I don't know what It means, for aU the
other officers who have asked have received it. I
am determined. In case I do not get It, to demand-

Iftonigsmarcft IReturns from tbe Mar 359
my discharge. I may as weU do so, since they seek
a pretext of getting rid of me, and I can find again
in the King of England's service all I shall lose from
giving up this. But what breaks my heart is that all
the kings In the world will not console me for the
loss of a goddess like you. Alas ! what shaU I do .''
If I enter that service I shaU see you rarely, and how
shall I exist ? No, that cannot be ! I would rather
attach myself to the King of Sweden, for at any rate
I should be nearer at hand, and could find means of
seeing you oftener." " October 27.
" At last I have received three of your letters at
once, and am greatly comforted, even though I see
that all plot against me. I am more than satisfied
with you, and I cannot understand how you got It
into your head that you were forgotten — you who are
charming above all women. What is more fervent
than your ardour, more sure than your promises, more
touching than your sighs, more tender than your love,
more pleasant than your company, sweeter than your
Intercourse, and, in fine, more charming than your
beauty ? With so many perfections and attractions,
how can you have the least doubt that I could ever
leave you ? Do not think It so hght a matter, for my
heart is full of your charms, and I respect you as much
as I adore you. I give myself wholly to you — my
body, my soul, my possessions, my honour : I sacrifice
aU for the love of you. But even thus I am not sure
of you. You cause me many sorrows ; but when I
VOL. II. 2

36o trbe 3Lo\)e of an tttncrowneb diueen
remember all our exquisite transports, all our sweet
violence, I forget my grief. What ardour, what fire,
what love have we not tasted together ! Shall we
ever enjoy those precious moments again.''
" To answer you about the journey you arc
making.^ I think you show too much eagerness
to go, but since you wish It so ardently of course I
approve. You had the same wish to go to Frankfort !
If I were to tell you my true thoughts, I do not care
too much for my lovely one to seek places of amuse
ment at such an unhappy time ; but what must be
must be — and, Indeed, how can we prevent it .'' To
comfort myself I whispered to my heart It was the
very place for me to see you without being known ;
but it answered, ' You will have only a moment, and
the rest of her day must needs be given to others.'
" I don't mind the Electress of Brandenburg's
talk, and the way you say you conducted your
self at her Court charmed me, though I cannot quite
believe It. But you do not tell me the names of the
people where you have been, and it is very vexing that
you have not had my letters. The Prince wIU not
join the others, but go to the Elector of Brandenburg's.
You are wise perhaps to put yourself right in that
quarter, but to what end will it lead you ? You
have not enough strength of mind to alter your
conduct. What do you mean to do .'' When wc
are the best friends in the world, the least rumour
frightens you and makes you wish I were ten thousand
' The visit to Berlin; this was deferred for a time (Colt's
Despatch).

"ffjonigsmarcfe IReturns from tbe Mar 361
leagues away ; but then, when you reflect, you are
sorry for your fears. This continual vacillation does
not help us. Look at the Electress of Brandenburg.
She lets the world talk till it is tired — till it no
longer talks about her. Yet she has the same
to fear as you. As long as they know nothing
positively, all wiU work for the best if you are
courageous ; but the least thing frightens you. How
then can I give you any advice .? You do me an
injustice when you say that I am ' engaging in new
conquests.' I swear to you on my oath that so
far from having any such Intention, I have never
been to visit any woman except the wife of my
lieutenant-colonel, whom I cannot avoid calling on
sometimes. I did, however, accept the supper in
vitation of the Elector and the Count of Nassau,
and many light ladies were present, of whom I have
told you.
" The tale about my house can only have origmated
with Countess Platen, and she may one day have to
pay very dearly for her lies. I could revenge myself
on her very well through Aurora's lover, but I fear
that might do harm, and I should not like to go to
that extremity before I am forced to do so."
"Two Hours from Dist, October 31.
" Here I am arrived at my garrison — the most
barren spot in the world ! I am lodged with the
nuns ; they are not Uke those of Venice, for they
see only their nearest relations. I have not got my
leave yet, but that does not worry me much ; I shaU

3^2 trbe ntove ot an Xflncrowneb (liueen
be consoled if I get it soon. I should have gone
about it without fail to-day, only I have hurt my
foot and may have to rest here a few days. Still,
it makes me rage, for I hoped to have gone before
the Prince's departure ; now I cannot. See what
bad luck I have ! Were It not for a stout heart I
should break down. Pardon me, I pray, for having
advised you to forget me. I am too much your
friend not to know I ought to do so; but it is no
use. I cannot give you up. I do nothing but weep.
My beard Is like a hermit's ; my nails are as long
as if I were going to dig up my grandfather. . . .
When my servant was combing my hair he found
several, at least ten or twelve, grey hairs, which
show how I take things to heart. Farewell." "Dist ^'^''''"' ^^
' November 6'
" I am In the most cursed hole In the world. I
can get nothing I want, neither your letters nor leave
from my regiment. I have to-day sent my equipage
to Hanover, and am waiting for orders to start ;
the moment I get them I will post at once to the
place where my love calls me. I am desperate at
waiting so long for my leave, and will give up the service
rather than remain here. If I am driven to that,
what would you have me do } Don't think you will
dissuade me, for my mind Is made up, and If I leave
the service I shall at least be able to see you secretly.
I remember asking you whether you wish me to
wear a wig or not ; as you haven't answered, I fear
you have not got my letter. I am not expecting

IRonigsmarcft "Keturns from tbe Mar 363
any more letters from you here, but I beg you to
arrange so that I may find some at Hanover, at
our good friend's. Will ma petite louche write a
word or two about her journey, so that our friend
may take precautions. I cannot live without you.
... I have composed a song in German about
my lovely one ; I sang it at a party. I told the
guests that the beautiful One was called Leonnisse,
and they swore that they would drink their toasts to
that name. That made me happier, and I drank
with them. To make the wine pleasanter, I found
an old red ribbon, rather faded, which I dipped Into
it. You know from whom the ribbon comes. This
is the only hour I have had a little happiness for
three weeks. I must have some if I am to live.
When we meet you will win me back to my merry
mood. No fear will make me falter, no obstacles
hinder me ; dangers will not weaken me — on the
contrary, they will Increase my passion, and hindrances
will make the sweetness all the greater. That is
how one should love. Love me likewise, and I shall
be as happy as a king."
All this time the Court of Hanover was In great
excitement about the electorate. The desire of years
was now at the point of realisation, and Duke Ernest
Augustus was daily expecting a notification from the
Emperor that he had been invested with the electoral
bonnet. The powerful support of the Elector of
Brandenburg was now on his side. On the other
hand, his arch-enemy, Antony Ulrich of Wolfenbuttel,

364 trbe %ovc of an tUncrowneb Ciueen
was plotting with might and main against him, and
pages of Colt's entry book at this time are fiUed
with tales of intrigue. The electorate was trembling
in the balance. News from Vienna was alternately
good and bad. The visit to Berlin was settled, then
it was deferred, then it was decided upon again. ^
During this anxious period the Duke of Hanover
and his eldest son went to Celle to take counsel with
Duke George William, who was warmly supporting
his brother.
Meanwhile Sophie Dorothea, who cared nothing for
electorates, but whose whole soul was absorbed in her
secret passion, was keeping up a constant correspon
dence with Konigsmarck, and longing with eager
impatience for his return. The Electress' s visit, the
return of the Prince, and other matters had rendered
it impossible for her to see Konigsmarck, even If he
should come back ; but the visit of her husband and
father-in-law to CeUe at last gave her the opportunity
for which she yearned. She wrote to Konigsmarck
entreating him to come to her at once, with leave
or without it. On receipt of her letter he set out
immediately, riding night and day. The following
letters were written by him on the eve of, and
during, the journey : iipiST O'^toi'r 31.
* November 10.
" Since you bid me lose no time In coming to you,
I have determined to start at once, without waitmg
tor leave, whatever may happen. It is not very prudent,
' Colt's Despatch, Celle, November i, 1692.

Ikonigsmarcft IReturns from tbe Mar 365
for it will give them the pretext they seek ; but since
you wish to see me, I fly, I rush to the spot where
you are. Why cannot I be there to-night .-' You relieve
me of my forebodings by saying that with prudence
and wisdom we shall be able to outwit our enemies.
Let me know your plans, and I wUl give you my
views. My life and happiness depend on them. I
am sorry your letters were delayed, for I suck from
them much sweetness. Anima mia, what can I do
to prove my gratitude .'' How happy I am, mine
angel, my divinity, my delight, my sole consolation !
Your merits are beyond all else in the world, your
charms above all the sex, your beauty equal to that of
the goddesses. I cannot live without you any longer.
I am dying to be near you ; but there are yet many
days. Adieu, my soul, my life. Adieu."
Pour la personne connue. ".Sunday, November -^ 16.
" This Is to give you warning that 1 shall arrive
to-morrow evening. You understand me, do you not .''
Should this fall Into your hands before ten o'clock
to-morrow morning, Monday, let me have a line or
two from you. On receiving your letter I will act
accordingly ; but should you receive mine after ten
o'clock, I will await the usual signal. Farewell."
" [Ett route, later.']
" I hoped to have found post-horses here, but there
are none. Therefore, instead of Monday, I shall not
be with you until Tuesday, the Sth. Do not let the
seal alarm you : I opened the letter. Though the hasty

366 trbe %ovc of an tancrowneb dneen
journey wIU have tired me to death, I cannot let the
night pass without throwing myself at your feet. Do
not refuse me my prayer, or I shall die. You will see
me In a mean guise, but I hope you wUl not mind.
I can come in secretly, without any one seeing me,
and be hidden as long as you like. I only wait for
a word In answer from La Confidente. I will come
according to your usual signal. The answer can be
sent to my secretary. He wUl know where I am ; it
will be given me without fail. Farewell. I am
pining for the hour."
Thus, after a week's journey, hindered by many
obstacles and delayed by the many subterfuges, Konigs
marck entered Hanover by stealth in disguise, and the
same night, all travel-stained and weary as he was,
he found his way to the Princess's chamber. The
lovers met again after a separation of six months.
They were fully aware of the risk they ran. What
tears and sighs and shadow of parting must have been
mingled with the joys of that brief hour's reunion !
The next day Konigsmarck doffed his disguise and
reported himself to the Field-marshal. As he had
left his regiment without leave he fully expected to be
sent away to his estates at Hamburg — a proceeding
which would be tantamount to his dismissal from the
Hanoverian service. He had furnished the pretext
his enemies were seeking : he had had his hour and
was prepared to pay the price.
But the Duke was away at Celle, and Marshal
Podevils was Konigsmarck's very good friend, and was

IRonigsmarcft IReturns from tbe Mar 367
not disposed to press too hardly on his breach of
discipline. Instead of sending him to Hamburg he
ordered him to remain at Hanover. The lovers'
joy was unbounded, and for a few days they seem to
have enjoyed one of their brief speUs of happiness,
unalloyed by jealousy and fear. The story of this Is
told In KSnIgsmarck's letters.
" [Hanover], Wednesday, November 9.
" I was never more surprised or rejoiced In my life
than at dinner, when Marshal Podevils ordered me not
to go to Hamburg. I am still Ignorant of his reasons,
but I shall know to-morrow. I asked him to remember
his orders in case they wished to refuse my request,
that he might take my part. He reassured me on that
account. I am the happiest man in the world.
Fortune, who has turned her back on me so often,
shows her face again, and I draw a good omen.
Heaven be praised if our sorrows should end In this
way and we should be able In future to live as we wish !
You may be sure I slept well last night, for, as you saw,
want of sleep was depressing me unduly. But I think
you made allowance for a man overwhelmed by love,
grief, and a thousand other emotions.
" Last night makes me the happiest and most satisfied
man in the world. Your embraces showed me your
tenderness, and I could not doubt your love. They
still talk much about the journey to Berlin, and flatter
themselves that the business at Vienna will end as
they wlsh.^ Je reste inviolablement a vous,"
' The visit to the Elector of Brandenburg at Berlin and the Electoral
investiture at Vienna by the Emperor.

368 trbe Xove of an tttncrowneb CHueen
If Konigsmarck were to remain unmolested at
Hanover, it was necessary that he should win again
the good will of the Countess Platen and lull to rest
her jealous suspicions. She was aU powerful, and, acting
on the advice of the Electress of Brandenburg, Sophie
Dorothea sought to conciliate her, and again advised
Konigsmarck to do the same. He at first refused with
real or simulated indignation, but eventually yielded,
and made his peace with her. The lovers then enjoyed
a period of comparative Immunity. Every person about
the Court was, in fact, too much occupied with business
of high political importance to heed them and their
affairs. Would the Duke of Hanover go to Berlin,
or would he not ? Would the Emperor invest him
with the electorate, or would he not? These were
the all-absorbing questions at Hanover. One was
soon answered In the affirmative. On December -i
the Duke of Hanover set out for Berlin, accompanied
by the Prince. Princess Sophie Dorothea was to have
gone too, but at the eleventh hour, as she wished to
remain with Konigsmarck, she feigned Illness. Her
ruse was completely successful. The Court physician
was called in, and the Princess was declared unfit
to travel, kept at Hanover, and made to undergo
a course of treatment. Konigsmarck writes :
" [Hanover, November.']
" On rising from my mattress, which I found the
softest in the world, they gave me your letter, wherein
I found, what I knew before, the most constant love
in the world. Your many virtues set you above the

Ikonigsmarcft IReturns from tbe Mar 369
goddesses, and your constancy raises you above your
sex. I note that your answer to the one [Electress
of Brandenburg] who proposed you should make It
up with La Platen, was to the effect that If the Duke
ordered it you would obey, though you did not see
to what end. You ask me my feeling about the
matter. I would never advise you to do such a
thing, for It Is beneath noble souls. But what grieves
me is that while you think It a mean action on your
part, you advise me to do it. I believe you wish
to try me, and so I forgive you ; otherwise I should
be very angry with you for wishing me to do a
despicable thing. Don't Imagine I will consent. I
will not budge an Inch from my determination for all
the countesses In the world ; but I am wlUIng to
aid your plan, since you hope for a happy ending.
I am willing to be civil to her, even friendly, as In
former times, if she be civil to me ; but never could
I make her believe I liked her, hating her as I do.
Fie ! it is beneath me. My transports of delight
when I held you In my arms prevented me from
reaUsing the full force of your proposition ; I find it
so much beneath me that I refuse altogether, and beg
you will say no more about it. How can I thank
you, angel mine, for all your sweet favours? You
have made me the happiest man in the world." " November.
" You could not have given me pleasanter news.
Though the journey wiU not take place,^ I still owe
' The journey to Berlin was postponed {vide Colt's Despatch,
November 1 8).

37° Zht Xove of an tUncrowneb (Siueen
you the same debt, but with this difference — if they
shatter themselves with their politics, we shall not
risk the same chance of being discovered. That may
easily come to pass ; Indeed I hope to God they wIU
break each other up. But, Madame, my joy is not
without alloy, for Prince Ernest told me that the
Prince assured him. If the journey to Berlin fell
through, he would go to AUer. However, I would
rather see you there than run the risk of being sent
away from you, which would surely happen if we
were discovered. My Ill-luck follows me, and I see
no hope of being luckier In the future. I could most
certainly have come to you last night, but La Dondon ^
whispered to the Duchess's valet-de-chambre, and I
thought they were whispering about us, so I made
up my mind to deprive myself of the happiness of
being with you. I am very grateful to you for
promising to appear this evening. Do come, that I
may see the divine eyes that give me light. If
you suffered at the comedy, I suffered more. I was
dying to look at you, for I found you more beautiful
than ever ; but I dared not give my eyes that delight
for fear of spoiling everything.
" The journey to Hamburg depends on your
commands, and I will take them from your Ups this
evening. At the same time I will teU you all about
my interview with La Platen — to rejoice you. I
will only tell you now that tears were mingled with
our conversation, but I found a way of changing
them to loving looks. It was a gross Insult to my
' La DondoH, the plump woman, a lady-in-waiting.

Ikonigsmarcl? IReturns from tbe Mar 371
love for you, for which I mean to see you at my
feet begging my pardon. You cannot love me as
much as I love you, for at your bidding I have
sinned against my love for you." „ November 29 ,/: _
December 9 ' ^ '
" I have heard nothing of your illness except that
the Duchess told me you were very unweU, and the
Prince said so too ; In fact, every one thinks you are
quite unequal to the journey. Mind you do not
undeceive them ! Everything goes well up to now ;
my throat Is rather swoUen, but that will not hinder
me from seeing you. If you wish it, to-morrow evening.
I am sorry you are so triste : why cannot I be with
you to make you forget your pains ? But, beloved,
remember you are making the effort for a man who
wiU be ever grateful to you, and who is convinced
that he is loved by the sweetest woman in the world.
To-night, between six and seven o'clock, I shall write
to you again. Farewell." " About ^'"'""^''-^°, 1692.
December 10 '
" Poor child 1 what are you not suffering ? To be
rubbed ^ without being ill is too much ! I am reaUy
unworthy of the pain you are undergoing, and am
quite crushed by all you tell me of your sufferings.
Can I do nothing to deserve all you do for me ?
I call to witness aU my tenderness, my love, my
overwhelming passion, my devotion, hoping thus to
' " Pauvre enfant I Que ne souffrez-vous point ! Suer, se faire
frotter, sans avoir de mal e'en est trop." Apparently a seventeenth-
century form of massage.

372 trbe %ox>c of an tUncrowneb (Hueen
be worthy. I would sacrifice myself a thousand,
thousand times, only too happy to seal with my
blood the love I bear you, counting it an honour to
lose my life for so sweet a woman. If my stupid
verses can divert you and make you laugh, here they
are. I will compose some every day :
Du sagst Du liebst mich,
Und ich anbet' Dich,
Da sind wir Beide vergniigt, etc.
" I have heard nothing new. The news from Vienna
is good ; they expect the courier every moment.
The Prince Is going ; and every one pities you, poor
dear ! they are quite sure you are unable to go. Up
till now everything goes on well. TeU me If you
think it possible for us to meet to-morrow. They
certainly spy upon us, but if we fear no surprises,
pour r amour de Dieu let me see you ! I cannot Uve so
many days without a glimpse of you. I would rather
die than lose my love." " December —, 1692.
" I could learn nothing about your journey. La Rose^
said he thought it would be very Inadvisable for you to
travel, for your illness might come from your being
enceinte, and travelling would be hurtful to you —
even dangerous. La Court said she did not believe
the Prince would go ; but one cannot be sure about
that — the only sure thing Is that you must stop where
you are. I will tell you more to-morrow. Arrange
for some one to wait for me in the gallery at half-
past eleven. I will write to you all I know, and you
' La Rose was the Court physician.

THE ELECTOR ERNEST AUGUSTUS OF HANOVER.

[To face p, 372.

•Ronigsmarcft IReturns from tbe Mar

373

may be sure that after the sweet privileges you have
given me I could never change. On the contrary, I
love you a thousand times more every day. Your charms
fire me so much that I can hardly live. I have the
sweetest dreams about you. FareweU until to-morrow."
The Duke of Hanover's journey was wholly
successful, and If gratified ambition can make a man
happy he returned to Hanover a happy man. The
labours and the Intrigues of years were at last crowned
with success, the dearest object of his life was granted
— he came back Elector. The news was eagerly
expected. Colt writes : " A courier is come hither
with the welcome news that the electoral bonnet was
given on the 9th, and just now we have had advice
that the new Elector will be here this day." ^
The new Elector arrived as advised, and the whole
city turned out to meet him. His entry was a triumphal
procession. There were great Court ceremonials : all
the foreign envoys went In state to pay their respects
to the Elector ; there was a general thanksgiving In
the churches and much firing of cannon.
In the Court functions Sophie Dorothea — henceforth
to rank as the Electoral Princess — was called upon to
play her part. As she was naturaUy fond of gaiety,
there Is no doubt she rapidly recovered from her
" illness," and entered with zest Into the spirit of the
festival. Equally certain is it that KSnigsmarck's
jealousy was again aroused. He made little or no excuse
for the exigencies of her position, and indeed would
' Colt's Despatch, December 20, 1692.

374 trbe %ovc of an tUncrowneb <Jitteen
seem to have resented her access of rank as a personal
affi-ont ; he was certainly jealous of her husband, if we
may judge from the following remonstrance, which
is perhaps better given In the French :
" December, 1692.
" Princesse Electorale ! L'on peut a present vous
nommer comme cela, car apparemment le prince
Electoral vous aura Investie de ce titre d'honneur cette
nuit passee. Les embrassades sont-eUes plus char-
mantes quand on est dans ce rang I . . . Je ne peux
dormir de rage, qu'un prince electoral me prive du
plaisir de voir ma charmante maitresse. Je vous aurai
feliclte aujourd'hui de votre nouvelle dignite, mais je
doute que votre epoux ait fait son devoir, aujourd'hui,
car si l'on doit juger de son empressement pour vous
revoir, I'lnvestiture ne sera faite qu'a six heures du
matin. Je souhaite que celle-cl vous soit rendue
immediatement apres vous aurez en fraiche memoire
les plalsirs electorals. . . . Helas ! je n'oserais vous
faire souvenir de ceux que nous avons eus ensemble ;
Ils vous paraitront si minces (je me sers du mot mince,
parce qu'une chanson dit : ' Helas, mon prince, que
vos amours sont minces ') que vous n'en aurez plus
I'idee." This letter brings the correspondence to a close for
a time. Soon after, the Court festivities consequent on
the Electorate came to a close, and Konigsmarck left
on a visit to his estates near Hamburg.
The year 1692 ended briUiantly for the House of
Hanover.

CHAPTER XIX
THE TRYST AT BROCKHAUSEN
O friend of all true lovers — tender Night !
O solace of the dark ! O comforter !
Cover us in from the too garish light
With curtains that no curious breathings stir.
Hem us about, and set thy stars to stand,
That none may come us nigh to hear or see
How mouth seeks trembling mouth and hand holds hand,
Or what low whisperings of wonder be.
Cover us in, and keep us well from harm ;
Let us lie surely in thy shelter fair
(Even as my love lies safe within my arm.
Content to find her present Heaven there) :
And we will tell thee all our secrets sweet
Ere Day binds sunny sandals on thy feet.
W. A. Mackenzie, in the Pall Mall Gazette.^
THE future was casting dark shadows along the
path of the Princess and her lover throughout
the year 1693. Their meetings were brief and stolen ;
their partings anxious and prolonged — a foretaste of
that long parting when they would meet no more.
The letters which passed between the lovers during
the first five months of this year apparently did not
find their way Into the hands of Aurora, and are
therefore not preserved in this coUection. It is, more
over, difficult to foUow the movements of the Courts
' By permission.
VOL. II. 37S 3

376 trbe %ovc of an tCLncrownet* (Siueen
of Hanover and Celle during this period, for Colt,
our Invaluable guide, went to Dresden In January to
invest the Elector of Saxony with the Order of the
Garter, and remained many months. The English
envoy had also to meet the Saxon demands in return
for the aid the Elector was to give William and the
Allies In the forthcoming campaign. This occupied
him until May, when he returned to CeUe, and soon
after, the campaign began simultaneously In Flanders
and in the Palatinate. The Electoral Prince of
Hanover went with the Hanoverian troops to Flanders,
and the Elector of Saxony led his troops to the
Palatinate. Konigsmarck went neither to Flanders nor the
Rhine, but remained at Hanover, despite the fact that
his position had become more and more precarious.
Whispers of his intrigue with the Princess ran around
the Court ; he was out of favour with those in
authority, the Elector treated him with marked
coldness. Yet he could not tear himself away from the
Princess, and would not quit the Hanoverian service,
as it gave him the pretext for keeping near her. For
Konigsmarck to remain in the Hanoverian army meant
ruin ; he had no hope of promotion, and if the Intrigue
were discovered it would probably mean his imprison
ment or death, certainly his banishment. His financial
affairs were neglected, and this, added to his gambling
and extravagant living, made him very short of ready
money ; while, to make matters worse, the King of
Sweden, who (with Denmark) was now quarreUing
with the Brunswick princes to a point which looked

trbe trrsst at Brocftbausen 377
like open war, threatened to confiscate his lands unless
he quitted the service of an unfriendly prince. The
outlook could hardly have been gloomier, and Konigs
marck gained little to compensate him for the risks
he was running. Since the beginning of the year
there had been an obvious, though unexpressed,
determination on the part of those in authority to
keep him and the Princess apart. In January he
went to Hamburg. On his return to Hanover the
Princess was sent to Celle, and she did not return
until the preparations for the campaign were weU
advanced. It was expected that Konigsmarck would
serve in the campaign In Flanders as he had served
the year before ; but he excused himself on divers
grounds — the hope of being near the Princess through
the summer, while the Electoral Prince was away,
was too tempting for him to resist. There may
have been another reason, too, for last year he had
contracted heavy gambling debts In Flanders which
were not yet paid.
Under ordinary circumstances It would have been
difficvdt for Konigsmarck to have had himself excused,
but it so happened that there was a possibility of his
services being required nearer home. The kings of
Sweden and Denmark, always uncertain, had practically
withdrawn fi-om the Alliance, and were now threatening
hostUities more particularly against Hanover and Celle.
Their demands not being satisfied, the Danes gathered
their troops around Ratzeburg, in Saxe-Lauenburg, a
fortified town north-east of Hamburg, not far from
the Holstein frontier. Only three years before, when

378 trbe Xove of an tancrowne5 CSiueen
the Duke of Celle inherited Saxe-Lauenburg, as he
feared his warlike neighbours, he had repaired the forti
fications of Ratzeburg at great expense. The Danes
and the Swedes, seeking a pretext for war, now found
a menace In these fortifications, and demanded their
demolition. This demand the Emperor was disposed
to grant ; but the Duke of Celle and the Elector of
Hanover strongly resisted it, and It looked as though
they would have to send troops to the aid of the
fortress, and In that event (which at first seemed very
unlikely) KOnigsmarck volunteered his services.
Whatever the lovers' hopes were of remaining near
one another throughout the summer, they were doomed
to speedy disappointment. No sooner had the Elec
toral Prince set out for Flanders early In June than
the Electoral Princess, much against her wUl, was
hurried away from Hanover to Luisburg, and she
remained there, under the eyes of the Elector and
Electress, until she went to Brockhausen on a visit to
her parents, who were almost as vigilant. But, despite
all obstacles, the lovers found a way to meet, and one
night, at Brockhausen, a country house of the Duke
of Celle's, the Chevalier came to his Leonnisse. The
outlines of the tryst are given ; It needs but little
Imagination to fill in the picture. The warm June
night . . . the air heavy with the scent of the limes
. . . the cavalier hidden amid the trees ... the
signal, the soft low whistle . . . the Princess stealing
through the dusk to meet her lover. ... It Is the
tale of Tristan and Isolde over again.
The correspondence in this chapter opens on the

trbe trrsst at Brocftbausen 379
day when the Princess was sent to Luisburg, and the
letters are those which passed between the lovers
through June while she was at Luisburg and
Brockhausen. They are largely taken up with the
possible gaUantry of Prince Max, a lover's quarrel
because Konigsmarck went to a supper party at the
Countess Platen's, a reconciliation and subsequent
meeting. Save for the stolen visit to Brockhausen, Konigs
marck was all the time at Hanover, holding himself
in readiness to march against the Danes If need
be. Perhaps the most noteworthy point in the letters
is the conduct of the wily Electress^ in praising
Konigsmarck to her daughter-in-law. Her only
possible object could have been to sound poor Sophie
Dorothea, who readily fell Into the trap, and no
doubt betrayed herself much more than she admits.
The Princess to Konigsmarck.
" [Luisburg], Thursday, June 8, 1693.
" I arrived here in great distress ; I cannot tell you
the anguish I suffered after we parted. The thought
that I may not see you for three months robs me of
happiness. I am continually reproaching myself for
not having said more to you — for having lost those
precious moments. But I thought the other coach
was following me, and my grief was so great that 1
never dreamt of asking about it, and 1 was walking
slowly, waiting for my ring.
' The Duchess Sophia, henceforth known as the Electress, and Duke
Ernest Augustus as the Elector.

38o trbe 3Love of an tancrowne5 (SJueen
" To crown my misery, I found they had put Max
next to me. In the room belonging to my husband.
I wanted so much to go to bed when I got here. I was
quite broken down, and had such a headache I could
scarcely hold up. Imagine my astonishment when I
found everything In uproar and disorder, for my
servants had not had the wit to prepare anything,
although they knew my wishes, as well as I know
yours. It was most careless and impertinent of them.
I do not ever remember having been so angry.
Every one was at supper when I arrived. I sent word
to the major-domo to change my rooms quickly,
as I absolutely refused to have those arranged. He
raised very absurd difficulties, and excused himself by
saying he had only obeyed the Elector's orders. At
last I ordered Koptein to come. You would have
laughed much had you seen me, for I was very
angry, and rated him soundly. He went and spoke
to the Elector, and came back presently to tell me
that if the suite of apartments were three times as large
It would be for me alone, and gave orders that
Max should be lodged in the other house. I hear Max
was mighty civil, and would not let his people do
anything without knowing whether I approved. If the
Elector had not sent me a proper answer, I should
have gone away to-day — reason would have said to
Brockhausen, but my heart would have whispered to
you, and I know not whether my heart would have
prevailed over my reason. I should have spent the
night,'on my own authority. In the apartments opposite,
which they say are reserved for my father, but it is

trbe Zvsst at Brocftbausen 381
rumoured are kept for La Platen. However, I am
as I would be, away frora all company ; and the
Electress's [plan] has faUen through also, so I have
nothing more to fear. I saw no one yesterday except
those I have mentioned, and I have seen no one to-day.
I shall not go out. I prefer to be alone and give
myself up to my tears, which are even more abundant
to-day than yesterday. As long as I was able to see
you I did not realise what our separation meant, but
now I have no hope — no comfort in the world.
Grand Dieu ! why am I fated to be separated from
such a lover as you? How sensible I am of your
love and tenderness ! — they are graven on my heart
and memory for ever. ... I longed to write to you
last night, but I could not, as I had neither paper
nor ink. I was very much vexed, for It would have
relieved me to have sat down and poured out to
you the immensity of my pain and my passion.
Adieu, mon enfant adorable. I must end, not through
my heart's fault — it is so full that I should never
end — but because my eyes hurt me so much."
Konigsmarck to the Princess, " Hanover, June 8.
" My grief Is greater now than when we parted.
Your tender caresses kept me from realising all our
separation meant at the moment ; but now, alas ! I am
the most miserable man alive. I love, I am loved ;
my mistress Is loving, constant, and true : yet I cannot
hope for happy days. Oh ! cruel Love, for whom

382 trbe Xove of an TUncrowneD diueen
dost thou keep thy sweetness ? — for the Inconstant
and those who love not truly ? It seems so, for were
love's sweetness for the constant, we should surely
taste more of it. If my sorrow Is so overwhelming
now, when I am only five leagues from you, what will
it be when the fatal day dawns for my departure ?
Every thousand paces wIU plant a dagger In my heart,
and before I join the army my sobs will have stifled
me. But I will gladly suffer torments, and chance all
the odds of changeable Fate, if I can only see you
again as before, lovable, passionate, constant, charming,
gracious, and true. Give me but the hope of our
meeting, and I can endure all the cruel woes a cruel
absence can cause. I curse the day it entered my
mind to ask permission to go to the war. Dieu !
can I truly love you when I take so false a step?
Hate me, see me no more in your life, forbid the very
mention of my name, keep my letters no more, treat
me like a dog, like the meanest of men, — I deserve
It all ! But what advice am I giving you ? Grand
Dieu ! I shudder when I reflect. Were you to take
me at my word, what would become of me ? Be
generous, forgive my fault, have pity on me, for I
am losing my head and know not what I say.
" I send herein the numbers,^ which are rather meagre ;
but never mind — the rest will follow. I cannot conceal
from you a misfortune which befell me last night.
La Platen, to damn me, sent to beg me to come to
supper in the castle behind the mill. I pretended to
be ill, but as she insisted and sent a second time, I
' This refers to the second cypher — in numbers.

"the castle BEHIND THE MILL."

[To face p. .-^z.

trbe trr^st at Brocftbausen 383
went, for fear she might guess the cause of my sadness.
What bondage ! "
The Princess to Konigsmarck,
"[Luisburg], Friday, June — , One o'clock after midnight.
" I did not expect to get any news from you so
soon, so picture my joy when I received a thick packet.
Alas ! my joy did not last long, for if the beginning
of your letter Is deUghtful, the end of it Is much
the reverse. I should have written to you even if
I had not received it, for my only pleasure is to
make you remember me, and I could not go to bed
without assuring you of my love and faithfulness.
I am heartbroken at not being able to see you, and
until we meet again I shall find no relief from my
sorrows. But I don't know why I tell you all this :
you do not feel the same towards me, as your conduct
shows only too well. I am not at all pleased with
you for going to La Platen's supper party ; It pierces
me to the heart. You have certainly a command
over your feelings which I cannot hope to imitate.
It would not have been possible for me to have shown
my face at a party the very day we bade farewell, but
I am sure you concealed your emotions so weU that
no one suspected you of sorrow. I do not wish to
reproach you, but If it be true that you love me,
you should be sorry for showing it so little. Surely
I deserve better of you, for the way I live and the
sorrow I suffer might let you deprive yourself of a
little amusement. I can hida my grief so little that
Sitardie to-day asked me the cause of my sadness, and

384 trbe %ovc of an tancrowneb Queen
then he went on to say he was going to compose
a lament on your absence I I came late from my
room, and went only a moment to see the company
playing cards. The Elector wants me to take a
hand at Neike (?), so that he may play with me ;
Ilten to be a third. I shall keep out of his way,
for I have not the same command over my feelings
as you. I drove out with the Electress. We were
quite alone, and she spoke of you and said you
were tres gentil. Balati ^ offered me his hand when
I came down to supper. I should have refused
him had I dared, for it suffices that he Is no friend
of yours for me to hate him. After supper I kept
close to the Electress ; she went to the table, and the
game ended a moment after. I retired as soon as
I could, and walked with La Confidente under the
trees near the palace. See the difference between my
conduct and yours, and think how much my love
is above yours. I shun everybody, I am careful over
the smaUest trifle ; yet, no sooner am I gone than
you forget your vows and console yourself with a
woman who hates me. No ! Nothing can excuse
your conduct, nothing can be more unkind. You had
no end of pretexts for declining that supper party, yet
you went. I tremble for the future. What will it be,
Grand Dieu I In a few months, if you can do such a
thing on the very day I leave ? You are so easily
comforted. I cannot write more — for my tears."
" L' envoi, the next morning.
" I have not slept a wink ; my eyes are as big as
' The French envoy.

trbe trrsst at Brocftbausen 385
fists, and I dare not show myself In public. La pauvre
Confidente is pale because I fret so ; she sleeps In the
smaU room next me, and I woke her up at five o'clock
In the morning. I am still in bed In agonies of despair
at your conduct ; it shows so little love for me.
I cannot be comforted, for It was the last thing I
expected — a thunderbolt would not have astounded
me more. Was not your absence enough to bear ?
Why do you crush me with such cruelty ? I should
like La Rose's opinion to come true, but I don't
expect it. Adieu, Monsieur. I wish you many
pleasures ; no doubt you will find fresh ones every
day, and forget all about me."
Konigsmarck to the Princess. " Hanover, yune —
¦' 20.
"Once on a time I was wont to complain that
I did not dream of you ; but now, thank Heaven,
not a night goes by but I dream of you only. A
poet has composed these lines on my dream delights :
L'autre jour j'apergus en songe
Celle qui cause mes soupirs,
Qui consentait k mes desirs ;
Mais tout cela n'est qu'un mensonge.
Ah ! ce mensonge m'a flattd
Autant qu'a fait la verity.
La beauts qui Ie jour se couvre,
Pendant la nuit ne cache rien :
Les yeux ferm^s je vis un bien
Qui disparait quand on les ouvre.
Dieu, pour soulager mon amour,
Faites que je dorme toujours !

386 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb dlueen
Rien ne fut plus doux que Silvie,
Et, sans que je fisse d'efforts,
I'eus dans I'image de I'amour,
Le plus doux plaisir de la vie.
Dieu, pour soulager mon amour,
Faites que je dorme toujours !
I wish you the same delight, the sweetest the absent
can know. If my song win your approval, and I
find any one who can fit music to the words, I
wUl send it to you. I sing It with the greatest
pleasure. " What do I not owe to you ? You behaved so well
about Prince Max. You see, you have more power
than you think. As long as your father lives they
will always treat you with consideration : the Elector
has need of him, and will not readily fall out with
him. You wish to know, ma cherie, how I pass my
time. Alas ! how can I spend It away from you but
in dreaming day and night of your lovely eyes ? I
pine, I sigh, I curse the day of my birth. Sleeping,
I dream of thee ; waking, I sing :
Dieu, pour soulager mon amour,
Faites que je dorme toujours !
" La Platen sends me pressing invitations every
day, but I only went once — I told you, the day before
yesterday, at nine o'clock. I found them all at table.
Without joining the party, I walked up and down by
myself, singing, and as soon as they rose I returned
to town without saying a word. If this does not
please you, order me as you will ; I am ready to obey

trbe trri^st at Brocftbausen 387
all your commands. If you think we can meet whUe
you are at the Elector's, let me know, for I am dying
with Impatience to see you ; but, for the sake of our
love, do not risk anything, — we should pay for the joy
too dearly, our bliss would be turned to bane. How
grateful I am to you for telling me your love in terms
so tender! Believe me, mine equals yours. I cannot
find words strong enough to express it. My eyes
bear witness of my heart's passion ; they have spoken
for my loving heart in torrents of tears. When a
man loves as I love, he does not change ; and you are
one of those rare women whom a man respects, honours,
and adores all the more when he knows them well.
My love Is rather worship. If any comparison can
be made between mortals and the gods, you could
well be taken as an example. What beauty, what
goodness, what sweetness, what charity, what brightness,
what charm, what loveliness, what clemency ! You
are mercy incarnate. You are like the divine beings
of whom the Bible speaks. Do not be astonished at
my quoting you sweet things from the Bible, for I
am in a most devout mood.
" Tell me when you are going to Brockhausen
and what answer your mother has sent you : I must
know. I should like to know also how the Elector
behaves to you and what the Electress has said. I
rejoice that Prince Max's charming manners do not
charm you. But beware of him, I pray you ; you
know what he attempted before, and you know what
a fool he is. One should not have any intimacy with
fools, — they talk too much."

388 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb diueen
The Princess to Konigsmarck.
"[Luisburg], Sunday, June ^
" I am Starting in two hours' time with the Electress
for Brockhausen ; we shaU be back to-morrow evening.
She Is taking no one but Bruno and a lady's maid,
and I am taking only Marie. I received your letter,
and it gave me great pleasure. I should have nothing
to complain about if you had not accepted La Platen's
supper party on the very day I left : it is like a
dagger's stab to me ; but I have written you a long
letter already on the subject, so I will say no more.
If you can justify yourself and give some good reason
for having gone, you will relieve me greatly. ... I
have had a letter from my husband ; he permits me to
go to Brockhausen, but does not wish me to be there
long. I told him that the Electress had given you
a knot of ribbon for your standard, and other ladles
had done the same. Here are his very words In
answer : ' You must have a great lack of news to
write to me about la galanterie de madame ma mere ;
I doubt not that you followed her example.' There is
something in his answer that grates on me.
" Your song is very pretty. Send me the music.
Alas ! I have not had a pleasant dream yet : how
can I when I sleep so little ? Sitardie told me
again yesterday that he is composing some verses
on your absence In which he depicts me as wasting
with sorrow. I don't quite like the joke, yet I
dare not take it seriously. I did not leave my
room until very late. The Elector has been asking

tibe trr^st at Brocftbausen 389
me why I wiU not play. I excused myself on the
ground that Ilten could not be seated so long ; he
was so much Interested with Sitardie that he was
always wanting to run about after him. I fear he
did not believe me ; but I look on it as a positive
torture to be so long with people. I went for a
drive with the Electress. She did not go to the
supper-table, so I supped alone in my room and
went for a walk after with La Confidente ; then
I went to bed. I have no joy but In soUtude. It
would be a great joy to me to see you once more ;
not a moment goes by that I do not wish It. La
Confidente is In the small room next me, and you
could stay without being seen ; there would be nothing
to fear. You could even stop a whole day without
any one guessing it ; but as it Is almost impossible
for you not to be met coming or going by some one
who would recognise you, I wIU say nothing about It,
for though I long passionately to see you, I would
rather deprive myself of the joy than expose you to
danger. . . . My mother has not yet answered my
letter. When I know her plans I will let you know ;
but in any case I shall come back here with the
Electress for a few days. I was nearly forgetting
to thank you for the sweet things you say, and
when I am quite pleased with you I will send some
to you ; but I shall not look for them in the Bible
(as you do), but in my heart. You ask how the
Elector behaves to me. He is the same as usual, I
believe ; but to tell you the truth I haven't troubled
to find out. The Electress is very friendly."

39° xrbe 3Love of an tUncrowneb (Slueen
Konigsmarck to the Princess, " [Hanover], June —
" Your letter of the 9th would have given me great
comfort had not your most unjust reproaches wrung
my heart. I only went to the supper to prevent
people talking, but you think It a crime. How
unfortunate I am to have done a thing which
displeases you, through motives of policy ! You
know I am compelled to keep a watch over myself
before others, and to go about as usual, therefore
you are wrong In finding fault. ... I love to see you
a little jealous, but am thoroughly distressed when
you think I have consoled myself In your absence
with such as La Platen. Assuredly you are going
out of your way to wound me. Why take such a
contrary view of my conduct ? What I did was only
for love of you, but you wiU not take policy as an
excuse. Maybe I have done foolishly ; but think
what you did a year ago In going to Monsieur Colt's
ball — a great fete as it was. You danced much and
merrily, and in truth I was hurt, but policy excused
It, and, after reading this I hope you will not think
me so guilty, for what comparison Is there between
my walking near the river while others dance, and
your dancing with many men? What I say Is true,
107 ^ will bear witness. I swear that I walked
with him while they were dancing, and did not
go near the Hvely company ; but, on the contrary,
' The key to this cypher is lost.

trbe trrgst at Brocftbausen 391
without talking to anybody, I walked on the ram
parts behind the cavalry barracks. After refusing
La Platen's invitation three times, I could not very
well excuse myself for that night, for La Rose had
taken me apart, saying, ' Why are you so melancholy ?
Are you ill ? ' I went, therefore, and paid my respects
to La Platen. They were at the supper table. After
supper they went out walking, but I sat down on a
heap of fresh mown grass without saying a word to
any one. I thought only of your charms and the joy
of being loved by you, and then I took my way home
without seeing La Platen any more. This I vow on
my damnation ; and I swear to you also that I will
never put foot in her house again except to take
leave, be the consequences what they may ; so you
can be at rest about that. I will never see her again,
though It ruin me. All your entreaties will avail
nothing. " Now let us look into your conduct a little — you,
so tender and true — and see if we can find a flaw in
you. Prince Max went to your apartments, which
could not be helped, and Balati escorted you downstairs.
I heard this last piece of news through my enemies.
You know well I am jealous of him. What, too,
of the long conversations with Sitardie, which took
place ' only because he spoke of me ' ? However, I
am satisfied. If you would be the same. But you are
so suspicious — and why ? Because I went to a supper
without eating, and to a dance without dancing. That
is all my guilt. Do you think I would forsake my
divinity for a supper ? Really, If you have such a
VOL. II. 4

392 trbe %o\>c of an tUncrowneb (Jlueen
bad opinion of me, you had better leave me. But I
tell you, without losing my temper, I love you passion
ately and without guile, and no interest, no beauty,
no supper, and no dance will ever make me do
anything which would give you just cause to suspect
me. I entreat you, tell me frankly if you are cured
of your suspicions." The Princess to Konigsmarck, "[Luisburg, undated.]
" I returned with the Electress very late last night
from Brockhausen, and had the joy of finding your
letter, which I read over at least ten times. I should
have answered it before going to bed If It had been
possible. But first let me tell you what happened at
Brockhausen. We arrived there Sunday at nine
o'clock in the evening ; we supped, and after the
company had retired I sat up with my parents
until nearly two o'clock. They entered into my
grievances very fully ; they are not pleased with the
way the Court of Hanover is acting, and they think
exactly as I would have them do. My husband, it
appears, wrote a very civil letter to my father, leaving
him absolutely free to keep me as long as he pleases.
You know he wrote to me quite the contrary, and
I told them so. They want me to ask him how
long he wiU let me stay away. Let me know if
you approve of this. I will await your answer until
Monday. I spent half the next day in bed, the
other half with the Electress and my parents.
"They say the Danes are certainly marching. I

Ube trnsst at Brocftbausen 393
know not whether to rejoice or be sad, in any case
I fear I shall not have the joy of seeing you, for
they seem determined to keep me here [Luisburg] as
long as they can. Max is staying here. I have not
said a single word to him : in fact, I should forget
how to speak if it were not for the Electress and
La Confidente ; they are the only two with whom
I have any conversation. We left Brockhausen at
seven o'clock, and arrived here at eleven, and I had
supper in my room. I took a bath this morning as
an excuse for not going out. This Is an exact
account of everything I did yesterday and to-day.
" I must now answer your letter. I am sorry If
mine grieved you, but my heart was so full that if I
had told you all my anger you would not have got
off as lightly as you did. I am satisfied with your
excuses, and glad of your assurance that everything
took place In public. Yet, even so, I would have
given my heart's blood for you not to have gone.
Without offence, how can you be such a fool as to
draw a comparison between my going to Monsieur
Colt's ball, whither I went a fortnight after you left,'
and because the Elector and Electress Insisted upon it,
and your going to La Platen's supper party two hours
after I had gone, and when you had bidden me so
tender a farewell ? I never even dreamt that you
were disporting yourself in that way. But we will
talk no more about It, for I love you, and I cannot
be angry for long. Even before you wrote I had
forgiven you. I am a fool to confess it ; but do
I For the campaign in Flanders, lune, 1692,

394 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb (Hueen
not take advantage of my weakness. Don't give
me ground for thinking you are acting a part again ;
but, on the other hand, don't be so silly as to keep
away from La Platen altogether. You know my
views on the subject, and It is most Important to
keep her in good humour ; therefore, for the sake
of our love, go there as before. It was not your
visiting her that I found so bad, but the time and
the way you did it — on the very day I left. It
nearly drove me out of my mind.
"You seem to mock at the account I have sent
you of my doings. Mock as much as you please,
but It is true. You tell me I talked a good deal
with Sitardie. He told me he was composing some
verses on your absence ; but you can disabuse your
mind of the Idea that any one is flirting with me. I
shall start at the end of the week for Brockhausen."
" [Luisburg], Wednesday, June —
" The Electress talks about you every time I walk
out with her ; and, as I have told you, I am alone
with her a good deal. I know not whether she does
it through friendship for you or because she thinks it
pleases me ; in either case, it Is the same. Je ne peux
meme entendre nommer votre nom sans un transport
dont je ne suis pas la maitresse. She praises you so
highly that were she younger I should be jealous.
I really think she Is fond of you ; she can hardly
show it more, and it makes me quite uncomfortable !
She has just sent me word to come out for a walk
with her, and so robs me of the joy of writing to

THE ELECTRESS SOPHIA.

[Tofacep. 394.

^be trrgst at Brocftbausen 39s
you — my only one when we are not together. Some
day perhaps I shall be able to see you as I will, and
never to leave you more. I believe I shall go mad,
for the life I lead is mtolerable. Let us hope for a
happy change ; let us do everything to be together.
I shaU never get used to separation from you ; I find
It harder every day, for I love you more ardently
than ever." "[Luisburg], Twelve midnight, {Saturday],
" I could not finish this afternoon. The Electress
prevented me from bathing to-day. She tells me I
have so very few days to remain here that she wishes
me to be with her. However, I shall take a bath
to-morrow. . . I have never felt the force of my love
for you more than now — except perhaps In our most
rapturous moments. I tell you again, my life and my
peace are In your hands. Mon Dieu ! how dear you
are to me ! how dearly- I love you ! I shall never
be happy until we are together all our life long.
When will that bliss come? How I long and yearn
for it ! Such joy as that cannot be bought too
dearly. . . . They tell me La Platen is not coming
here after all ; I am not surprised to hear it. I
should have been astonished if she had come as long
as you remain in Hanover. She Is quite free now,
and, should you take advantage, the opportunity Is
excellent. I am absent, and les absens sont toujours
tort. But no ! you would be incapable of anything
of the kind. You are loving, tender, and true ; It
is a crime to suspect you."

396 trbe 3Love of an tClncrowneb (Siueen
Konigsmarck to the Princess, " [Hanover], June —
" I am waiting to .show you how absence has wasted
me. I must know the hour, the day, and where I
am to come. I will see to the rest. But tell me,
how will you be able to keep me hidden without
endangering yourself? The risk I run is not very
great, and to see the one who loves me I would
willingly be torn in pieces.
" Let me kiss the beautiful lips that kissed me
so sweetly. Ah ! when we meet we wiU show
the sweet violence of our passion by the tenderest
tokens. I would give my blood this very moment for
one sip of your honey lips. I know battles are
dangerous for us men, particularly against the Danes,
for we always lose ; but if you really wish to dispute
the fact that I have more passion, more constancy,
more devotion than you, I accept your chaUenge.
Know this : for two months I have been preparing
myself to meet the attack, and as it is long
since I have taken up arms, I might be overcome.
Yet I will fight a duel with you with the greatest
possible joy. I only wish to know the rendezvous,
the arms, and the - seconds. My weapons wiU be
my eyes and my mouth. . . . Choose a day and
hour when duty will not hinder me from coming,
and you will see how I shall fly to you. Come
out when it suits you. I am glad you give me the
chance. "I am delighted to hear that La Confidente has

trbe trrsst at Brocftbausen 397
put aside her chilly airs, and am curious to know with
whom she has been flirting. She will say, ' But, alas !
it is a dream. Why is it not for good ? ' I hope it
is Bal aux Fores, though, I' faith, she deserves
some one more attractive, more gallant, and younger,
for I verily believe she would show much passion for
her lover, who would soon make her lose her coldness,
for she is passing fair and has a good figure."
" [Hanover], June —
"It Is very bad the Prince should write in two
ways — bad for himself, but all the better for you
and me ; for they will clearly see what a rage he
is in. You must have irritated him extremely. I
have heard from Marshal Podevils. According to
appearances war will be declared very soon, and as a
great favour (which enrages me) they will let me take
part in the campaign. I must take it 'as a great
favour,' that some one evidently wishes to get rid
of me ! My regiment will march to the Elbe, and
I shall be able to do the campaign, and to smooth
matters down a little. The Marshal tells me I may
return- when they give me an order to do so. I am
not to start this week, for he wishes first to learn
the issue of a conference which Is being held where
you are [at Luisburg].'
" It is not a little matter that your father is beginning
to listen ; and, with your mother's help, you may
perhaps succeed in your plan, provided you do not
' But meantime the Princess had gone again to her parents at
Brockhausen.

398 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb (Slueen
relax your efforts. Remember, It Is the only way for
us to become happy. ... I should not advise you
to write to the Prince to ask him the time you ought
to stay, for in doing so you subject yourself, and it Is
always better to be free. Wait first to learn my fate,
and when we know for certain what will be done with
me, you can go to Brockhausen. If your parents again
press you to write, say you know it wiU displease
the Prince and you positively refuse to displease him
while you have so little support to expect from your
father. But should they promise anything substantial,
write anything and everything they wish, but beware
of being tricked. That is my little piece of advice.
And now for yours. Don't think of Inducing me
to return to La Platen. All your commands and
prayers will be In vain. Had I foUowed my own
inclination, I should have kept to that resolution
long ago ; but you made me feign and act In a
cowardly manner, which, but for you, I should
never have done. But you will not catch me
that way any more. Whatever may happen, I will
avoid Monplalsir like hell. I have seen no lady
In this house since you went away. I bathe in the
river every evening at seven o'clock, and to kill
time I shoot swallows from my window. I hope
these innocent diversions wiU not give you further
ground for unjust suspicions."
The Princess to Konigsmarck,
"[Brockhausen], Friday, June ~
" After pining for three days and suffering tortures

trbe trr^st at 3Brocftbausen 399
of suspense, I have the joy of receiving two letters from
you. The desire of my heart is to see you again.
I have already told you It Is quite easy as far as I
am concerned. La Confidente sleeps in a small room
near me. You can come in by a back door and stay
twenty-four hours if you wish without the least risk to
me. Every evening I walk alone with La Confidente
under the trees, quite near the house. I will look
out for you from ten o'clock until two o'clock. You
know the usual signal. You must also know the back
door. The door of the palisade is always open. Do
not forget to give the [first] signal ; it is you who
must give it, and I wUl wait for you under the
trees. I look forward with rapture to seeing you ;
I have longed for it every moment since we parted,
and on that account have put off going away [from
here]. My mother and father are in a great hurry
to return [to CeUe] as soon as possible. We can
talk over our business when we meet ; It would take
too long to write about it. I think only of the joy
of seeing you. If joy kill, it will kill me. You
will find me as tender as ever — even more so. I
shaU give you so many kisses, and with such fondness,
that you wIU be sorry you ever doubted me. ... I
am sorry that you no longer go to Countess Platen's,
It is rather Important you should go. As for the
other minx, she does not trouble me. I entreat you
go there as usual, and so relieve my fears. I am
quite easy now, for I believe you will always be mine.
Come soon — soon ; never mind the day ; the sooner
the better."

40O trbe %o\>c Of an tUncrowneb diueen
Konigsmarck to the Princess,
" [Brockhausen (?)], June -r
"I make haste to let you know I am here, and
I flatter myself you will be as glad as I am. Le
Feltam gave me my leave. I have changed my
mood. At present let us think only of embracing
each other. What joy for me, a hopeless lover !
I had not shaved since our sad adieu, but to-day I
am clean-shaven and merry-looking. Let every one
sing ' The chevalier Is conqueror,' and for my sake,
for yours, and all that Is dear to us, let me throw
myself at your feet. See how joyful I am ! Until
now you have known me sorrowful, but I am
beginning to breathe again and forget my troubles.
Don't think, though La Platen may be ' free,' she
could in any way alter my devotion to you ; death
Itself would not efface It, still less that old coquette.
I don't know what I have done to deserve the
Electress's favour, but if it does us any good I am
very glad to have it." "June iZ: 27-
"... I will not fail unless the command to march
prevents me. I am dying with joy and longing.
To-morrow night at ten o'clock I will be at the
rendezvous, Le signal ordinaire nous fera connaitre.
Je sifflerai du loin ' Les Folies d' Espagne.^ If I under
stand the spot aright. It Is near the house, between
where the Duke's stables used to be and the house,
I will be there at ten o'clock."

trbe trri^st at Brocftbausen 4ot
" [Hanover], June —
" This is to let you know my expedition ended
without accident, except that in coming out of the
palisade I saw two men walking about six paces from
me. I did not dare turn my head, and so was quite
unable to see their faces. One of your women lighted
a candle outside the dressing-room as I went through,
but I do not know which one it was, for I did not
dare turn my head. These are all the incidents,
dear heart, except that I found the way much longer
returning than coming. ' The difference is easily
understood ! I found when I got back a despatch
to the effect that I must march with my regiment
at the end of the month, and a letter from my
secretary which makes me tremble. I will send you
the original at the first opportunity. A million thanks
for your sweet tenderness and dear proofs of love !
Were It not for the comfort and consolation they give
me, I should die of trouble, for no man before ever
saw himself ruined all at once. But I have found a
treasure worth all that Northern land, and I would
not change places with that barbarous and unjust
King [of Sweden]." "[Hanover], ^^^^
" I shuddered on reading your letter.* To what
danger I have exposed you I Dieu ! how near we
have been to our ruin ! What a fatal accident to
occur just at the wrong time ! It Is so like a novel
' This letter of the Princess is missing ; it must have referred to
some accident after their meeting.

402 trbe %ovc of an tUncrowneb Ciueen
that were you to tell it, many people would not believe
you. I had no idea so many people were about, and
two of them followed me. I thought It was without
design, but I see now that I owe it to my legs
that they did not catch me. But I lost myself, and
did not get back to my horse until four o'clock.
Just think of the time I took In running from left to
right and right to left ! The favour which Providence
has showed us is indeed great ; I shaU remember it
for a long time. Just think how easy it Is to be lost.
All human prudence cannot avoid an accident, but
we have come through safely. I vow that no one
recognised me.
" You were sweet to say you were pleased with
me, and I am so charmed with your assurances that
I cannot thank you enough. I have slept well the
last few nights ; and I needed it, for the run on
foot was very tiring. Your divine kisses Intoxicated
me so much that I drank a bumper to steady
thyself. They say the Elector will certainly be here
on Monday. See how unfortunate we are. What
Ill-luck this is ! I fret aU the more because you
are not coming with him. I am going away this
day week. They say your father is going to CeUe ;
If so, I hope greatly I may see you again. Think
if it can be managed. Ma petite brunette, how I wIU
kiss thee when I hold thee again ! Meanwhile I
dream of thee. Dieu, pour soulager mon amour,
Faites que je dorme toujours ! "

trbe ZvsBt at Brocftbausen 403
The Princess to Konigsmarck. "[Brockhausen], ¦^J^L33l
L J' fuly 3.
" I am very anxious. I have not heard from you
yet.* I have had a letter from my husband in answer
to the one I wrote from Luisburg complaining that
they tried to lodge Max next me. I also mentioned
that you were going to the Urkin (?). He answers as
follows : ' You have acted like a veritable Lucretia
towards Max. I see that my honour is safe In your
hands. I am surprised to hear Konigsmarck Is going
to take part In the campaign to the Urkin (?) ; It will
do him no good. I fear he has not paid his debts
yet, and from all they say he will get Into trouble in
consequence.' I am in sore distress about this. Tell
me what you wish me to answer him, for I am sure
my husband takes a malignant delight in writing thus,
he Is full of envy and hatred against any one like
you, who Is charming and deserving, and merits dis
tinction. I am engrossed with my own plans. My
mother is beginning a business which will be very
good for me if she succeeds. She wants to make
over her Celle estates as a present, with money, to
me. She spoke about the business to Bernstorff,
who promised great friendship, and offered his services
on my behalf. If they would only employ him I am
sure he would see I had my rights. If he would
take up my interests my father would do everything
that could be wished. We must try every means in
our power. The matter is too near my heart for me
' The letters must have crossed.

404 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb Ciueen
to neglect it, for upon the issue hangs all my future
happiness." "[Brockhausen] <"f ''^'
" We start to-morrow after dinner for Celle. I am
very glad, for it brings us nearer to one another, and
I shall hope to have news of you oftener. I have not
been able to write from here as much as I should have
liked. I am broken with many anxieties, and tremble
lest your embarrassments may take you to Flanders.
Your Swedish business worries me also, and to crown
my misery I cannot see you, and shaU have to spend
a whole month without you — you, who are the only
joy of my Ufe. Grand "Dieu ! how weary I am of
the existence I lead ! how sad and hopeless it all is !
The end of my misery seems still very far off. But
I am wrong to complain, since you love me : that
thought should console me for everything, for as
long as you do not change I shall be happy. ... I
hear my mother. Adieu."

CHAPTER XX
LOVE'S BITTERNESS
O love, O thou that, for thy fealty
Only in torment dost thy power employ.
Give me, for God's sake, something of thy joy,
That I may learn what good there is in thee.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
THE Princess spent the month of July at Celle
and Wienhausen with her parents. She did
not once meet her lover, who remained at Hanover
daily expecting orders to start on the campaign against
the Danes. For, contrary to expectation, and despite
the mediation of an Imperial envoy, who journeyed
to Hanover on purpose to arrange matters, the Duke
of Celle and the Elector of Hanover came to an open
rupture with Denmark and Sweden over the fortifica-
fications of Ratzeburg, and Denmark sent troops to
demolish them. This, of course, was tantamount to
a declaration of war. It was an anxious time for the
little Court of Celle, for the Danes were far superior
in numbers, and if successful at Ratzeburg they might
foUow up their advantage by entering the Duchy and
even seizing Celle itself.
It was especiaUy unfortunate for the Princess, who,
absorbed in her mad passion and desperately unhappy,
40s

4o6 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb (Hueen
had come to the conclusion that she could no longer
live at the Court of Hanover, or indeed anjrwhere
apart from her lover. She therefore concentrated her
energies on obtaining a grant of money from her
father, a sum sufficient for her to maintain an establish
ment of her own. The plea for independence was
reasonable enough, for she had been very unfairly
treated In her marriage settlement ; and at any other
time the Duke, Ignorant of the real reason for which
she wanted the money, might have been disposed to
listen, but now, with the expense of raising many
troops and the possibility of defeat and ruin, he was
quite unable to accede to her wishes. Without money
things must e'en go on as before, for separate establish
ments were expensive, and flight was even more so,
and Konigsmarck, wealthy though he was, had none at
this juncture. He was crippled with gambling debts,
he had neglected his affairs, and the King of Sweden
threatened to confiscate his estates. The lovers were
in despair ; everything fought against them ; all around
was war and rumour of war ; while, to add to it aU,
Konigsmarck was now to be sent away on a campaign
against the Danes. Yet, as usual, their letters are
filled alternately with ardent love and fierce jealousy ;
their love was not of a nature to give either of them
any rest, even if things had gone smoothly. The
proximity of Prince Max, despite the fact that he
was the Princess's brother-in-law, was sufficient to
arouse Konigsmarck's suspicions (a curious comment
on the morals of the time), and she, in her turn, was
furiously jealous because he gave a farewell party to

5tove*s Bitterness 467
which the Countess Platen was invited. But the story
of all this is told in the letters, which begin with the
Princess's arrival at Celle and close with her return
to Hanover. The Princess sent KOnigsmarck a few
lines to tell him that she had reached Celle (and a
little poem unfortunately lost), to which he replied.
Konigsmarck to the Princess. "Hanover, ^"'''='^-

fuly 6.
" After many days I received a letter from you. It
gave me as much joy in reading it as a starving man
would have In devouring a delicate morsel when he
had not tasted food for days. It satisfied my craving
a little, but I stiU hunger until I kiss you again. I
don't understand in what your father Is hard, unless
It be in the matter of your separate establishment. If
that be so, I am surprised you should have broached
the subject so soon, when you had only been home one
night. I hope you will succeed, for your mother Is
on your side, and If your love be true you will work
for It. . . . If you reaUy wrote that song you ought
to write some more, for It Is very well done, and most
kind to ' Tercis ' ; he thanks you very much, and when
certain fancies are out of his head, he wIU try to
answer it. Though your mother has promised you
two thousand crowns, I fear it will be very little good,
but it is well to have her on your side — would to
Heaven your father were the same ! I hope I shall
not offend if I Implore you, in case your mother
warns you against me, not to let her make the least
impression on your mind. The officious attentions
VOL. II. 5

4o& trbe nLove of an tlncroWneb (Siueen
of Prince Max and of those of whom you do not
write, as well as the conversation you had with him,
displease me very much. You asked me if you might
speak to him, and you did so without my consent.
Why did you not tell me ? , . .
"I am a little reassured, for Prince Max has just
arrived. TeU me all about the foreigners who have
been at Celle. Marshal Podevils asked me yesterday
to come and see him to-day, as he had something to
say. I went about eleven o'clock. He said that having
been always one of my friends, he wished to warn me
some one had spoken to him about us, saying : * What
a row there will be if there should really be an intrigue
between them ! ' I answered : ' Monsieur, since the
day you warned me of the Elector's suspicions I have
not spoken to Madame la Princesse tete-a-tete' ; and
I promised him to be very discreet. He said he told
the person who mentioned the matter that he would
answer for me, and It was better not to speak about
such things. He would not give the person's name,
but I think it is a friend of yours and mine, no.*
The Marshal firmly believes this gossip originates
with La Platen. He is on your side and pities you
much, and it Is kind of him to have warned me.
He declared that the Elector was no longer suspicious,
which Is a comfort.
" The companies of infantry are marching, but
my regiment remains near Hanover for a few days.
Whether the Danes advance or not, I shall still have
^ no, probably some courtier at Hanover, but the key is missing.
(?) Sitardie.

Xove's Bittemess 409
to go with the army. I must start without seeing
you unless you can arrange it otherwise. It depends
on your mercy and tenderness to say whether I shall
be able to kiss your feet, and If my kisses are dear
and sweet to you, you will say ' Yes.' Do not risk
anything, for precautions must be taken. We are
treading on dangerous ground ; but when people love
as we love they do not consider trifles, and if one
holds the loved one, what matters the cost? Were I
to see the scaffold before my eyes I would not swerve."
The Princess to Konigsmarck.
" [Celle], Wednesday, July 8.
" If my letters give you pleasure, yours are the
only joy of my life. But I have had one to-day
which both rejoices and grieves me. I am desolee
to see you are not satisfied with me. If I did not
mention I had spoken to Max it was because I had
not then done so. I had no conversation with him
until the day he left, and this Is word for word
what passed between us. I said : ' Max, I thank
you for the courtesy you showed me at Luisburg.'
He replied : ' It was only my duty, and I shall
always be glad to serve you in all things.' I was
rinsing my mouth. Bernstorff and my mother were
at the other side of the room, quite near. I vow
our conversation ended there. That same evening
he took leave of my father and my mother (who
was holding my hand). She kissed him, and desired
me to do the same. I withdrew my hand abruptly,
and went to the other side of the room, whence I

410 trbe %ovc of an tUncrowneb CJuecn
asked him in a loud voice to convey my respects
to the Electress. Later on, my mother begged my
pardon, and I asked her never to suggest such a
thing again, as it annoyed me greatly.
" What Marshal Podevils told you surprises me.
I thought they no longer suspected anything between
us. I am not accusing no; all my suspicions fall
on 103.* Had no done so, he would have been
the falsest of men ; for he swore on his honour to
warn me of anything that might be said about me,
and assured me he never heard anything. Try to
find out from Marshal Podevils who told him this
gossip, for it is of consequence if the Elector suspects
anything afresh ; if not, I count it of no Importance.
They are all very much pleased with my conduct
here ; the Electress spoke of me In the highest terms.
I little expected you to tell mc you are still going
with the army — If you can. The blow stuns me.
Why did you let me think you were going to stay
when you all along meant the contrary ? I am deeply
hurt to think you are going far away from me,
perhaps for long. Were you to stay. In three week's
time I should be able to see you again. How I long
for It ! How dull and tedious are the days 1 You are
all my joy. La Confidente and I are always thinking
how we can manage things for you to come here ;
but the difficulties make me feel hopeless. I long
for you with passionate longing.
" Grand Dieu ! If you go away without seeing
me I shall die. . . .''
' I cannot find the key to these numbers in the cypher.

Xove's Bittemess 411
Konigsmarck to the Princess.

"HANOVEn,-^""'^'

fuly 8.
" I advise you not to speak of me so frequently,
and not answer the Prince unless you wish to write
to him ; In that case you might say that you
asked me when I took leave of you why I was
not going to Flanders, and I said I had first to raise
money to pay my debts in Flanders. I think you
can easily say this ; it would do neither harm nor
good, so please yourself, and do whatever may be
most a propos. Pray be on good terms with Bernstorff ;
but beware ! Do not let him see you are estranged
from the Prince, and don't let him guess that you wish
the money to retire upon some day, and prevent your
mother from making a fuss or saying anything about
it. Mind you take my advice. You must not ignore
the fact that everything Bernstorff knows La Platen
knows ; and business of this consequence is liable to
be known by them simultaneously. Do not fret
about my losses ; they are not very great, and If I lose
viUages I gain a divinity, who is worth more to me
than all the kingdoms put together. Your vows of
constancy console me for all my troubles."
The Princess to Konigsmarck. "IZe'L'L'z], Friday, ^!"^ 3°.
¦- -' -' fuly 10.
" I witnessed yesterday a scene between my father
and mother which gave me much food for thought.
One could not imagine anything more unkind and

412 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb diueen
bitter than the things they said to each other. Buccow *
was the cause ; my father defended him, which made
my mother desperately angry. I trembled to see two
people whom love alone united so much exasperated
at so little ; Indeed, they threatened to leave one
another. Two hours after they made it up ; but my
mother was stung to the quick by my father's words,
and with reason. You may Imagine she has very litde
Influence if she cannot succeed in a business she has
so much at heart. It doesn't make me hopeful about
my affair, for all my trust was in her, and I see It
is enough for her to wish a thing for it not to be
done. My father is hard beyond imagination. I am
far from expecting great things of him and I see
from his manner towards my mother that one cannot
believe in his kindness ; so I am in a very bad humour
to-day. . . ." Konigsmarck to the Princess.
"[Hanover], Friday, """ ^°, T-welve o'clock midday.
" The life I have been leading since the Court
returned must, I fear, give you cause for much jealousy,
for I am playing every night with ladles, and, without
vanity, they are not ugly nor of mean rank. I crave
your pardon, but I cannot live without a little pleasure,
and one of them is so much like you that I cannot
help being In her society. You wUl be curious to
know her name, but I will not tell, for fear you may
forbid me to pay her my court. I cannot forget those
delectable moments at Brockhausen. What pleasure I
¦ Buccow (JLe Bdtard), the illegitimate son of the Duke of Celle.

Xove's Bittemess 413
what transports ! what ardour 1 what rapture we tasted
together 1 and with what grief we parted ! Oh that
I could live those moments over again I Would that
I had died then, drinking deep of your sweetness,
your exquisite tenderness ! What transports of passion
were ours ! . , , I will always be your true lover, absent
or present, wherever you may be, and whatever may
befall. La Platen has appeared dressed in a ridiculous
yellow cloak." " [Hanover (?)], Sunday.
" You ask me to give up the campaign. I will obey
you blindly without reflecting, but on one condition,
if to save my honour I must needs go once more
you will give me leave. They tell me that General
Pless, in Denmark, Is disgraced ; and If that be so,
that was the post they wanted to give me. The
terms were very advantageous, but It does not matter
now. The Elector has gone to Brockhausen, that
charming place where you were. Will that sweet
hour ever come again ? One of my manoeuvres to
deceive my servants is to spend a few nights on the
soft grass, unless it rains."
The Princess to Konigsmarck, " [Celle], July.
" I am inconsolable at finding so many difficulties
in the way of our meeting, but I could not dream of
exposing you to danger, and you know how dangerous
It would be. Pity me ! I have no comfort in the
world but you, yet everything Is against us. Your
tender caresses still linger in my memory ; I feel them

414 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb (Siueen
still. Ah ! how I long for a return of those moments !
But the joy would kill me verily. Had I not
received a letter from 205 * before I got yours, you
would have put me In a fever by speaking so much
of your pleasures and the lady you flirted with ; but
I am free from anxiety, thanks to her, for she
writes to me : ' Yesterday all the ladies were at
Court ; but they must have been very duU, for I
saw our courtiers languishing and not flirting at all.
A man must be blase Indeed to be reduced to playing
with children. Yet that Is what KOnigsmarck did
all the evening ; he passed the time making houses
with cards for the little princess and the little
chevalier.^ I admired him for it, because he seemed
anxious not to give his lady-love cause for jealousy —
that is, if he has one, but it Is hard to say whether
he has or no.' You may imagine how your ways
delight me and bind me more strongly to you. But
there is much malice, my very dear one, in leaving a
poor woman in such dire anxiety, for you had not the
charity to tell me the name of the lady with whom
you were enjoying yourself. Except for knowing
how admirably you behave, 205's letter does not give
me much pleasure ; I am terribly afraid she may
suspect somethmg. You ought to be the proudest
man going, for every one admires you. You are a
universal favourite — even old ladies cry out about
' This number cannot be traced ; it raust be some Court lady at
Hanover. ' The little Princess Sophie Dorothea and Prince George Augustus.
This and the following letter contain the only mention of the Princess's
children throughout the correspondence.

Xove's Bittemess 415
your charms. As for me, I count it the highest glory
to possess such a lover. Love himself is not more
beautiful and charming. You unite tenderness and
faithfulness with the most perfect manners. Nothing
Is wanted to complete my bliss but to see you again
and never leave you more. I spend many sleepless
nights thinking about it all ; it would be infinitely
more pleasant were I to spend them in converse
with you. Beloved, That is a joy I cannot hope to
grasp for several days yet ; but I am resolved not
to delay much longer.
" The Electress told my mother that nothing could
be more hideous than La Platen's yellow cloak. I
rejoice that neither she nor her cloak will come In
my way. I am thine, my beautiful one. I will die
aU thine." Konigsmarck to the Princess. " [Hanover], July —
" I am grieved to hear that your mother has
quarrelled so with your father about Le Batard. It
is easy to see which side is the weaker, and I fear
we can hope for nothing. You will be compelled
to devote yourself more closely than ever to the
Prince, and I shall have to seek some corner of
the world, and beg for bread that I may not starve.
Frankly, your father's conduct surprises me ; there
Is no doubt it is prompted by La Platen, through
Bernstorff, for she rules him absolutely and he is
almighty with your father. Your preceding letter
cheered me much, for It seemed that Bernstorff

4i6 trbe Xove of an tttncrowneb (Jlueen
wished to interest himself on your behalf; but he
is as deceitful as the devil, and thinks to trick you.
Do not trust his smooth words, but let him show his
good will in deeds. . , , The Elector has gone to
Herrenhausen, I asked Prince Max where he is to
be lodged, and — would you believe it.'' — he is to be
put in your father's apartments next your own. You
may imagine my dismay. I cannot advise you to
return, for as soon as you are back they will make me
march. When you are at Herrenhausen and Prince
Max lodged, for all intents and purposes, in your
apartments, and I forced to leave just when I hoped
to find joy and satisfaction — when all this happens,
what will become of me ? I suffer every kind ot
misfortune — loss of money, family quarrels, and false
friends ; twenty men who were under me are advanced
above me ; now they are trying to make me lose
my reputation, and, what Is worse, I am always sent
away from my own love.
" The party was very merry. The little prince and
princess danced, but I did not join. I walked with
some others by the river, and withdrew early, abandon
ing myself to my sorrow and tears, which I shed
abundantly. When I had undressed I paced alone
on the ramparts until one o'clock. . . . Monsieur
Rosse came here yesterday. He brings news that
the Danes are marching and will surely bombard
Hamburg. You cannot believe the joy this news
gives me, for I may see you sooner than I thought.
Marshal Podevils has left without any one knowing
whither he has gone. That is mysterious. God

Xove's Bitterness 417
grant us a happy ending to our troubles, for I am
at the end of my tether ! "
"[Hanover], Monday morning, July —
" The enclosed letter will show you how my
affair in Flanders Is going on, and I send one also
from my secretary ; tell me what you think of it.
It seems he wishes to free me from my chains, but
they are borne with joy ; aU the arguments in the
world will not make me go far away from you.
Who are the people who are trying to draw Prince
Max again Into a troublesome Intrigue ? and how
go things with your father and mother? Does your
mother still hope to succeed in your cause, or has
she given It up?
" I went to pay my respects to La Platen yesterday,
and she proposed une partie pour diner chez un
cabaretier, each man to take his lady. I said promptly,
' I will take Madame la Capitaine.' La Platen be
came as red as scarlet, and screamed out, ' I will
take Monsieur Balati.' She was In such a temper all
through dinner that every one noticed it. I doubt
if she will forgive me the slight ; but that Is the
least of my troubles. So long as you are faithful
I count the rest as nothing."
The Princess to Konigsmarck,
" [Wienhausen], Wednesday, July ^
"I am at last out of anxiety ; to-night I received
two of your letters. I am grateful for your kindness
in granting my prayer about the campaign, and I

4i8 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb (aueen
vow I will never ask anything that might harm
your honour. As they tell you, Pless * is disgraced,
and they formerly offered you his place ; it Is certain
they will now offer it again. They are sounding
you about it. I am terribly frightened every time
promotion is offered you, though I am greatly dis
tressed to think that I am the cause of your refusing
It. Yet I should die of grief if you were to accept,
for it would take you away from me so far that it
would scarcely leave any hope of my seeing you again.
You know well enough that without you life is
nothing to me ; you take the place of all. Do not
abandon me, for the sake of the love I bear you.
" I tremble at all you tell me about your embarrass
ments ; I feel them more than if they were my own,
for you are dearer to me than myself. My father
and mother have quite made it up, and are on better
terms than ever. I do not give up aU hope of
getting my wish, and I will not throw up the game
even If they refuse me. But I find this a very
unfavourable time, for they talk of nothing but the
war, and difficulties arise on every side. We must
wait until a more convenient season. My father is
more affectionate to me than ever, and my mother
overwhelms me with kindness ; every day she assures
me that all she possesses in the world is for me, so
I am at rest about that. If only my father were
the same I should be free of my troubles. I will
die rather than ' devote myself to the Prince,' as
• " Monsieur Pless, who formerly belonged to the Prince of
Denmark." — Vide Colt's Despatches.

%ovc's Bitterness 419
you think I shall be compelled to do. There is no
difficulty I will not conquer to be united to you. It
is the dearest wish of my heart, and I think I shall
succeed. I trust to the good wiU of Bernstorff.
My mother urges him every day to make the estates
of the Duchy give me thirty thousand crowns ; but
this terrible war will delay the business.
" I gather from your letter that I must not think of
coming back to Hanover while Max is lodged near
me. We are really very unlucky ; everything con
spires to vex us, in little things as in great. 1 hope
he will soon tire of staying at Herrenhausen and
return here. If that happens, I shall start at once
to join you, . . . You will always be the arbiter
of my destiny. The more I read your letter the
more I am touched by it. You teU me you will
be obliged ' to seek some corner of the world and
beg bread that you may not starve.' Do you count
me as nothing ? and do you think I will ever give
you up, whatever may happen ? If you were reduced
to that extremity, be sure nothing In the world
would hinder me from following you ; I would
starve with you. Mais, mon Dieu ! do not let us
give way to such sad thoughts. We may perhaps
be happier than we think. Let us love and comfort
one another, whatever may befall. Perhaps our
sorrows will end as I have foreshadowed ; for I hope
to get what I wish when things right themselves. I
will continually urge it, so that it will be hard to
resist me.
" You ask who are those who try to stir Max up

420 trbe 3Lov>e of an tUncrowneb Ciueen
again. They are Denmark and Wolfenbuttel. It is
quite true, for my father told me, and it is feared
he will yield. You have forgotten to send me your
secretary's letter and the one from Flanders ; pray
remember to do so. I fear if you irritate La Platen
too much she will revenge herself. Deal gently with
her, but not too gently. I know well she wiU harm
me all she can, but I love you so passionately that
I cannot be reasonable." Konigsmarck to the Princess, " Tuesday evening,
"I forgot to enclose the letters I mentioned, so I
send them now. The review of my regiment prevents
me from sending this by the midday post. My
affairs in Sweden are as bad as they can be, and
your prospects with your parents are perishing. It
is enough to make us despair. . . . Some officers are
just coming in ; I am obliged to end. Adieu, mon
ange. How dearly I love you ! Adieu,"
The Princess to Konigsmarck. " [Celle], Friday, July 1^
"Are you not ashamed to write me such short
letters ? The one yesterday is rude in Its curtness.
I do not think there are more than ten lines. True,
you make excuses about your officers and duties ; but
I am not satisfied with such reasons, for I have every
day more obstacles than you will ever have all your
life, yet I overcome them, and write letters so long
that I fear they weary you. Your secretary's letter

^Love's Bittemess 421
conceals something which you can easily find out if
you like. Farewell, This will be short, after your
example." " [Celle], Sunday, July ^, One o'clock in the afternoon.
" If the Count de Stelnbock * and Count de la Gardie
are still with you, and intend coming here, I entreat
you to come with them. It Is a feasible pretext. I
don't think any one could find fault. I hope when
you get here Love will aid us, and we shall find means
of seeing one another. It will be much easier to see
you here without any fuss. I shall die if I have
not the joy of embracing you. I picture such delights
when we meet that I am in Ineffable transports.
Should you come, let me know beforehand, so that
the excess of my joy may not betray me. I tremble
lest it may lead me to do some dangerous, extravagant,
and ridiculous thing." " [Celle], Monday, July —
" If you knew the joy the eagerness you show for
us to live together some day gives me you would see
I have nothing else in my head but to succeed In the
business I have in hand. I have always feared it was
only your kindness for me that made you suggest it,
and your inclination had no real part ; but I am quite
free of that trouble now, for it really seems you
want It as much as I do. Be sure I have nothing
• Count Steinburg (or Steinbock) was an Imperial envoy, who was
probably at Hanover trying to arrange matters about the Danes on the
part of the Emperor. Colt mentions him a little later as being in the
Palatinate on a similar mission.

422 trbe %ovc of an tDlncrowneb <!!iueen
so near my heart, and I shall move heaven and earth
to succeed. Can you doubt that I would sacrifice with
pleasure the whole universe for you ? I ask of God
only an opportunity to prove what I say. I count all
else as nothing : you alone suffice for me. My
ambition Is limited to pleasing you and keeping
your heart true. You take the place of crowns,
kingdoms, and thrones to me, and all the universe
would not console me for your loss.
" I don't think I can make Max move from where
he is lodged at Herrenhausen ; I have no pretext,
for our apartments are quite separate, and have no
communication whatever except by one door, which
I can close If I choose. All my women wiU be
lodged around me."
Konigsmarck to the Princess.
" [Hanover], Tuesday moming, July —
" You are glad, I beUeve, I wrote you that short
letter, so that you might have something to scold
me about. I did it on purpose, so you might know
by experience what it is like. I have more than ten
of yours even shorter than mine, but / did not call
you rude for so writing. You have license to caU
me what you like, but you are unjust not to accept
the excuse of my military duties. I know one
ought never to admit any obstacle to one's love,
but, ma cherie, how many times have you not made
excuses — the sentinel, the watch, or some silly tale
of people hanging about ? Have I ever said a word ?
have I not shown more forbearance than you ? You

Xove's Bitterness 423
are very imprudent to play cards with the General and
his wife ; you certainly will not win much. He is a
very gallant general — at least Prince Max told me
so — but he forgets his place in praising you so highly.
I should like to see you playing with him — with
your smiles and graces. How you will receive this
attention and that ! and what sweet glances you will
cast him to reward him ! How your eyes wiU sparkle
at his compliments ! I fancy I see you : I know your
airs. Don't think I am jealous ; It doesn't matter
to me. I know you cannot Uve without admiration,
and therefore it is better that It should come from an
old fool than a young fop. I talked to Prince Max
about your father's affection for you, and he agreed
with me that it is un amitie de singe, since he does
nothing for you. True parental love consists In
settling on one's daughter a comfortable sum ; and
It is just now that your father ought to do it, for
if he should be ruined [by the Danes], on what
would you live ? " "[Hanover], Friday, July i^
" If Count Stelnbock had been going to Celle I
would have accompanied him ; but as he is not, I can
not gather from your letter how I am to come. You
disguise your hand so much that I can hardly make
out what you write. I should dearly love to come
and see you ; but it Is difficult, for Count Steinbock
has gone, and they don't speak about my marching,
so I must come incognito. But, before I can come
disguised, I must have instructions, and It is not easy
VOL. II. 6

424 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb dueen
unless I am well posted in what I am to do ; I might
take a wrong step and ruin everything. I cannot
gather from your letter what It Is you wish, and I
cannot make out from the feigned writing which
way I am to come, or even where you are, or how I
am to keep myself hidden when I get to CeUe."
The Princess to Konigsmarck. " [Celle], Saturday, July ^
" As the two counts have gone away, you have
no longer any pretext for coming here openly. I did
not think the thing was possible otherwise. I am
opposed to your coming disguised : it Is too dangerous,
and, as you say, it might ruin us for ever. Do you
think that if I had been able to find some way of seeing
you I should have waited for you to ask me how ?
I should have taken advantage of it long since, and
not have pined like this. Do not dream of coming
here without my knowledge ; it would be a miracle
if you escaped, and there are no miracles In the times
we live. You seem displeased because I don't tell
you positively about my return. You are absolutely
master of my movements, and If you read my letters
carefuUy you will see what I mean. I quite under
stand it is not pleasant for you that I should be
lodged so near Max ; and therefore I am compelled.
In spite of my longing to see you, to stay here. You
suspect no end of things ; you imagine that If I had
a real wish I could find no end of pretexts to come.
I thought you would be satisfied with my delicacy
about Max. It seemed to me that if you could have

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Xove's Bitterness 425
induced him to come here, I could seize the advan
tage by starting the very day he left Hanover. But
do you decide, and do not think that any reason or
consideration whatever will prevent me from coming
to you. I wIU wait for your answer that I may do as
you wish ; but, for goodness' sake 1 make it so clear
and straightforward that I shaU not misunderstand."
" [Celle], Monday, July Hi 27-
" I do not think you wIU stay long enough in
Hanover for me to see you there. My father is in
great trouble. The Danes are advancing, and have
everything necessary to cross the Elbe. That will
put me at a greater distance from you. Everything
combines to make me despair. I dare not, in the
state matters are, press my father about my affairs,
for if the war turns out badly things will go hard
with him.
" The beginning of your letter Is charming. You
assure me you will risk your life to see me. How
can I show you my gratitude for aU your tenderness ?
But perhaps you no longer feel like this, and your
love has gone. If that be so, I wish for death !
Without your love what have I to do with life ?
It would only trouble me, since It is for you I wish
to live. I wrote to you yesterday aU that you wish to
know ; that is why I say no more. Your answer will
govern my movements ; I may possibly get It to
morrow night very late. I am sure the week wiU
not pass without your having to march ; everything
they say makes me think so. In case that should

426 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb dlueen
be, and I may not be able to go to you, I will
point out what you are to do to see me here."
" T-welve at midnight,
" My mother tells me to-night that she wishes to
take me to Madame Colt's * to-morrow. I fear it
may hinder me from writing to you — a grief to me ;
for, were I to write every moment of the day, my pen
would never run dry on the subject of my love. I
think of nothing but of seeing you soon ; the thought
fills me with joy. I asked Chauvet, who came back
from Engesen to-night, whether my father would set
out this week. He assured me that he would not, and
said the Elector and my father would not leave each
other ; so at last I have arrived within sight of my
desire, and no longer fear hindrance in the way of
seeing you. I much approve of your advice, and am
acting upon it with all possible despatch. I believe
we shall be fortunate and have everything we wish.
I am beginning to hope that good luck will at last
attend us. Every day my affairs improve ; I will
give you details about them when we meet. Only
Max worries me. I will not suffer him to stay
where he Is at Herrenhausen ; but as I go to Hanover
first, and not to Herrenhausen until late the next
day, I hope to be two nights running in Hanover.
Perhaps they will let me spend the remainder of the
week there. But I feel sure the Elector and my
father will set out together, and In that case Max
will go with them. I will do exactly as you wish ;
' Lady Colt, who lived at Celle.

^Love's Bitterness 427
you have only to say what I am to do. Let me
find you tender and loving. You will be very cold
if you resist all the love I shall bring to bear on
you. I think I shall die In your arms ; my rapture
wiU kill me. Adieu. Do not forget to come to me
the very day I arrive. Were you to fail, I should
never forgive you as long as I live. FareweU. In
the spirit I kiss you again and again ; I would give
half my blood to be kissing you in reality."
Konigsmarck to ihe Princess.
" [Hanover], Monday, July iZ: 27.
" I went to dinner yesterday at La Platen's ; she
showed me a letter from the Electoral Prince, which
was very kind, very long, and rather familiar. I hope
this news will not give you ground for jealousy, and
I hope, too, the fact that Monsieur de la Sitardie is
at the point of death will not make you too sad.
The young Countess von Platen* is very ill, so all
the house is in grief. They say the Prince will come
back loaded with laurels, so it seems there has been
something to do over there after all. ... I did aU
I could to induce Prince Max to go to Celle, but he
declared that he had business here which prevented
him. I rage about It. . . . There is no news here
about the Danes, which makes me hope I shall not
march for some time. I shall certainly go through
Celle if we march towards the Elbe, but I mean to
have a private audience of you, so prepare yourself
' Countess Platen's daughter.

428 trbe %ox>c of an tllncrowneb dlueen
for it. It seems to me that going to the comedy
every day means that you are enjoying yourself. I do
not grudge you pleasure ; on the contrary, I am glad,
provided the gallants do not come into your box and
whisper sweet things In your ear, as I hear certain
people do at the comedy. I am delighted you should
enjoy yourself, and will try to do the same, — that is
why I have asked our ministers to supper. La
Platen will not be one of us because of her daughter's
illness. I fear none of them will be so amusing
or witty as your company, but I can live without
amusement and you cannot.
The Princess to Konigsmarck.
"[Celle], Wednesday, July ^
" At last I have your answer, the one I have
been waiting for Impatiently to determine my move
ments ; but I am none the wiser. All I can make
out is that you do not want me to come for a few
days. At any other time I should have been very
angry, but now I am as indifferent as you. You seem
to be very phlegmatic about all I do, and I assure you
I am equally so as regards yourself. I am rather glad
to be in this mood, for otherwise I should have been
hurt about the fete you gave last night to La Platen
and other ladles. Stubenfol gave a full account of
it at the dinner table. ' Everybody was delighted. No
party could have gone off better ; everything showed
forethought and gallantry.' I am not surprised you
surpassed yourself, the ladies were weU worth the
trouble, and when a host Is inspired by such

^Love's Bittemess 429
charming guests he must needs succeed to perfection.
It is easy for me to foUow your advice. I feel
quite content to stay here as long as it pleases you.
Many thanks for all the news you tell me. I am
not jealous of La Platen because she has had a
letter from the Prince. I am delighted to see so
fine a union. I also send no end of good wishes
for the continuation of your pleasures ; I should be
quite distressed to interrupt them by my presence.
I don't know how you expect me to reconcile the
eagerness you pretend to show concerning my
movements with the indifference you display by
your conduct. If you had even a little considera
tion for me you would not behave as you do.
Continual pleasure-parties take place. But I am
wrong to complain or to find fault with your
behaviour; it is my conduct, forsooth, that is
open to criticism ! I go, you say, every day to
the comedy ; the gallants whisper In my ear ; they
caress me in the box ! Is it to fill up your paper
that you tell such falsehoods? There is not a
word of truth In them. Since I have been here
they have played a comedy only twice, and each time
I have been in my father's box alone with him. I
am always considering your wishes : I am ashamed
of it, for I carry consideration much farther than you
deserve. But I have said enough on the subject ;
It is so unpleasant that I am very glad to end it.
" You wish me, I believe, to teU you about my
affairs. Yesterday I read over my marriage con
tract ; it could hardly be more disadvantageous to

43° Ube %ovc of an xancrowneb Queen
me. The Prince Is absolutely master of everything,
for there is nothing I can dispose of without his
consent. Even the clause about my dower is so
badly worded that they can easily cheat me and take
it away.* I was very much surprised at this unexpected
blow, and so hurt that tears started to my eyes. My
mother was moved, and tried to comfort me ; nothing
could be more tender or kind than what she said to
me. She even went so far as to offer to seU her
jewels so as to settle on me some sort of an Income.
At last we decided it would be better to speak to
' A fragment of this letter relating to the Princess's marriage settlement
is quoted (in the original French) by Palmblad in his Aurora Konigs
marck, and Dr. Kocher has seized on it as an inaccuracy which goes
to prove that the letters are not genuine. Yet it is substantially correct.
The Duke of Celle was undoubtedly beguiled into a marriage contract
most unfavourable to his daughter. He gave her a marriage portion of
one hundred thousand thalers and the estates already settled on her.
The hundred thousand thalers promptly went into the Hanoverian
coffers (there was no Married Woman's Property Act in those days).
The estates were not disposed of so easily. If no son were born, these
estates, particularly the lordship of Wilhelmsburg, were to remain the
Princess's ; and should the Prince die before his consort, this property
and all its revenues were to revert to his widow, and her children could
only inherit them after her death, and, as a widow, the Princess was
to be entitled to a dower of twelve thousand thalers. But the Princess
had a son. Prince George Augustus, and so these estates were locked
up ; she could not realise them or raise money on them in any way.
She was not likely to become a widow (however devoutly she might
hope for that consummation), and so she was penniless, with nothing
of her own save the allowance the Elector of Hanover thought fit to
dole out to her for her dress and petty expenses. Her father, of course,
might subsidise her occasionally, but that was merely a matter of his
good will. Hence her efforts to obtain a sufficient sum to enable her
to set up a separate establishment and be independent. In this, as in
other things, the evidence is all in favour of the absolute genuineness
of these letters.

Xove's Bittemess 431
my father first, as perhaps he would be able to put
the matter right. My mother did so this morning,
and his answer was favourable. I hope I shall get
what I want. My mother advised me to talk to
Stubenfol, and ask him to push the thing also, to
show him my marriage contract, and point out how
unjust it Is to me ; so that without any one being
able to guess my plans, I have the finest pretext ever
known." "[Celle], Thursday.
" I am even angrier to-day than I was yesterday.
The more I think of what you have done the more
I find cause for annoyance. You have reason to be
thankful for having delayed my return, for had I
arrived piqued as I am you would surely have had
a piece of my mind. I don't know why I revert
so often to the same grievance, but, though I wish
to speak to you on other subjects, I unconsciously
fall back on this one. The cause is not hard to find.
Your unkindness cuts me to the heart, and, though I
ought to get used to it, I cannot help being sensitive.
Here are three unkind things all at once, which one
surely should not expect from a man who prides
himself on his delicacy and values his love so highly.
You will remember you went to a feast at La Platen's
two hours after I left Hanover for Luisburg, In
spite of the overwhelming grief in which you left me
and the sorrow you pretended to show. You had
enough self-control to hide your sadness so well at
the feast that no one perceived It. The second
party, which you say was so innocent, and which I

432 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb (JJueen
am willing to believe was so, since you wish It,
took place a week ago ; and your most magnificent
and brilliant entertainment the day before yesterday.
Here are three parties in a very short time to my
knowledge, not counting those I shall never know
about, which, being secret, are doubtless all the
sweeter to you. I am beginning to get used to your
unkindness, and so far from spending the night
weeping and wailing, as I was weak enough to do at
Luisburg, I sleep very well, and wake up fortified
and angrier than ever. I am quite convinced that
this is a matter of indifference to you either way,
because if you had ever so little regard for me you
would have behaved very differently. But I am
certain you do not love as I do, and renounce all
pleasure ; you are incapable of so strong a passion.
Do not restrain yourself, I entreat you. Think
only of your pleasures ; count me as nothing. No
doubt all these revelries will terminate In a complete
reconciliation between you and La Platen, or some
fresh intrigue. If only my wishes are needed to
contribute to your happiness, you can have them :
there is no joy I do not wish you. It so happens
that Fortune, to give me revenge, has sent hither
to-day a young baron from Mayence. He is very
handsome, well built, and magnificent. You are
no doubt willing that, rather than die of ennui,
I should amuse myself with him ! I believe you
to be still too much my friend to refuse me that
little comfort. You see, I am franker than you,
for though you sent me word of your fete you

Move's Bitterness 433
said nothing about the ladles and La Platen coming
to it ; yet the whole thing was got up for her !
Of a truth, I am weU repaid for living like a nun
and shunning every one, even men of sixty, mais
n importe, I will say no more ! You ought to be
ashamed of yourself to act as you do. I wiU not
reproach you ; you ought to reproach yourself.
But it shows, alas ! there is very little love proof
against absence. Unfortunately for me, my love
does not lessen, and I am too tender and sensitive.
Teach me how to learn the secret of Indifference.
I must end this. In spite of all my resolutions. It
might escape me that I love you, and I would rather
die than tell you so to-day."
Konigsmarck to the Princess, " Wednesday, July —
" My banquet, as you call it, was a very dull affair,
though La Platen came with her husband. The young
countess is still very ill. Madame Busche's coach-
horses took fright and bolted, and the ladies were
so unnerved by the accident that they scarcely spoke
two words, added to which It was very bad weather,
for fine rain set In and a great wind arose which made
us break up very early : they aU went home before
eleven o'clock. I did not sit at the centre table, as
there was no room ; I supped with Harrenburg and
a lieutenant of my regiment, and was delighted to
have a pretext to escape from my guests. I was a
very convenient host ; they wiU not boast much about
my attentiveness. But how could I be attentive when

434 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb (Jiueen
I was so distrait and my heart far away with you ? I
vow I thought more of you than of all my guests
put together. My reason for giving the supper
was because I am going away soon, and it was the
right thing for me to do. I have been so often to
their dinners that it was necessary for me to make
some return. Do not think I did it to court any one,
or with any thought of intrigue. I vow, on my
perdition, it was not so. I have told you the true
reason ; there was none other, I swear to you. Don't
draw unjust comparisons. As a man, I am compeUed
to do many things which as a woman you need not
do. Some one has been telling me I have become
so odd that it Is no use seeking my company. I said :
* When good fortune forsakes a man, what would
you have him do ? I get no promotion and I am
losing all my possessions.' He answered : ' What
about love ? ' I replied : ' I no longer think of it.'
But God forgive me, it was the greatest untruth I
have ever told in my life."
The Princess to Konigsmarck. " [Celle], Friday, July —
" Since you tell me your party was duU and tedious,
and everybody went home early, I am fain to believe
you ; though Stubenfol said nobody ever was so merry
a host as you, and the party did not break up untU
after midnight. I can quite believe you found the time
so short : the company was too pleasant to admit of
weariness. You must give me leave to doubt that
you thought more about me than of any one present.

Xove's Bittemess 43s
I am not vain enough to flatter myself so much. I
count myself happy if you think of me in your spare
time (should you have any), for every one Is talking
about your entertainments and contmual parties, at
which you shine so brilliantly. I rather think you
spoke the truth when you said you ' no longer thought
of love.'
" But I must speak of something else. I want to
forget all about that affair : my thoughts kill me.
I should have been willing to defer my return to
Hanover for a few days had y our fete not taken place
just then to distress me, for the very moment you ask
me to stay here you plunge Into deeper pleasures there.
What can I think of your conduct ? Must it not
convince me that you did not want me, so that you
might better amuse yourself, and you feared my presence
would be a hindrance ? You ask me to comfort you,
but it is from you I expect comfort. I certainly have
no pretext for staying at Hanover only three or four
days ; I shall very likely be there for twelve or fifteen
days at least, so take precautions accordingly. I think
you will know your movements before the end of
next week, and when you are certain, let me know
positively what you wish me to do. I shaU not think
of leaving here until you let me know."
Konigsmarck to the Princess.
" Hanover, Friday, July —
" I have received your very charming letter. Your
' handsome and well made man ' and Monsieur le
Huguenot more than convince me that you find your

436 trbe Xove of an tUncrowneb ditteen
stay at Celle very pleasant. All I have to say is
this — if you are not pleased with me, I am even less
pleased with you, and If this sort of thing goes on
I will no longer be your dupe. I am quite able to
find answers to all your accusations, but I will shorten
my letter for fear of keeping you from a pleasant
conversation or a walk. I am, Madame, with much
respect, all yours." '^Sunday, ^f^ 'f
¦^ August 2.
" At last I am in a fit state to answer you about
your baron from Mayence. I have taken a few
hours to settle my bile, and I am now cool enough
to write and teU you the vengeance you propose to
take is too small, even if I have sinned as much as
you think ; but my oaths, attested by Gohr and d'Els,
whom I can call as witnesses, must surely convince
you that Stubenfol lied. Don't you think you have
been a little quick to take your revenge ? I must
needs send my witnesses, since you wiU not believe
my word of honour. In any case, I will never forgive
your tricks with the baron. Your natural tendency
shows Itself again. You are only too glad to seize
any pretext for flirting ; you would rather die than
miss the chance. What am I to think of you ?
You know my weakness : I am naturally jealous, and
such behaviour as yours makes me a hundred times
worse. How many times have you urged me not
to give way to violence, but first to hear your excuses
and the truth? If you were piqued about my
supper, why didn't you write and scold me as much

Xove's Bittemess 437
as you liked ? But no ! you were too charmed with
the baron ; he is young, weU made, handsome, and
captivates you, — that is why you find, or pretend
to find, my conduct so guilty. Oh ! it is too much !
I can no longer deceive myself. Your letter of Friday
confirms my worst fears. Your excuses for not
coming here do not deceive me. You are the most
unfaithful of women. Go to, cruel one 1 and flirt
with your new cavalier. Why have you held me
so long with your deceitful airs and promises ?
Why have I sacrificed everything for you ? You
are not content to take away my peace of mind,
but you rob me of my honour, my reputation, and
all I have in the world. Is it not for such as you
that I have neglected everything ? You know the
state of my affairs. I am nicely rewarded, truly I I
wUl fly from Hanover, where I might meet you. Did
not my house force me to stay here, I would leave
to-morrow. I hope, however, to find an honourable
pretext for getting away ; and should the Danes
confiscate my lands in Holstein, that will serve.
Madame, I am not dishonest, like you. I will send
you back everything I have belonging to you, and
as soon as I get to Hamburg I will take counsel
with my friends as to my future plans. I will return
to my own people, and though I may have neglected
them the future shall make amends. ' The continual
ceremonies in which I shine ' are with my dragoons ;
I am with them every day, drilling them, and for
three days I have not been anywhere except to the
hunt. In which I take part every day. Have I not

438 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
always given you the choice of coming here or
staying at Celle ? I did it on purpose to see if
you had sufficient love to risk coming ; but I soon
saw something was keeping you back, though I was
ignorant of Its being a ' handsome, well-built young
baron.' You now ask me to teU you positively what
you are to do. Why the devil should you want me
to give you directions? Were I to tell you to stay
and amuse yourself with your new lover, or were
I to tell you to come here, it would not matter —
you would find some excuse for quarreUing with me
in either case." " Saturday, '^fy ^'''
¦^ August 3.
" My letter of yesterday has no doubt surprised
you. When I read it over I said to myself : ' Is It
possible I could come to such a pass as to write
such a letter to the woman who is dearer to me than
all the world ? ' I was ashamed to send it, but after
reading your letter three times I determined to send
mine on to you. Looking at things in the right light,
I ought to be more manly ; I ought not to be so sensi
tive. I am much obliged to Stubenfol for spreading
such monstrous reports about my banquet. You
know the man he is — ' Much ado about nothing.' I
don't wonder he found my banquet a fine one, for he
ate six partridges all by himself, and drank a whole
barrel of sherry. It was the finest and grandest
festival he ever attended — was It ? Give him the same
thing in a pigstye and he will exaggerate It into having
been served in the finest flower-garden of Italy. . . .

Xove's Bitterness 439
I was coming to the baron presently, but, for fear
I should lose my temper, I will try to go to sleep
instead : It Is two o'clock. If I went on much longer I
should write things I should be sorry to say to a lady."
7*^1? Princess to Konigsmarck. "[Celle, undated.]
" I expected to receive an infinity of excuses from
you, and the most beautiful things ever written, to
appease me. I was much deceived, for I found your
letter quite the contrary : you are still too proud to
beg my pardon. I could not help laughing to see
how you fell into my trap, and how my ' baron '
sticks in your throat. Your anger gives me so much
joy that I have quite forgotten mine. I am delighted
to have revenged myself singly, and I like myself all
the better for it. I hope you will be free from anxiety
before you receive this letter, for I have sent you
the portrait of the personage, and that suffices. But
the idea of your giving yourself such airs ! I am the
injured one, yet you scold me ! That is rather an odd
way to seek reconcUiation. How tired I am of being
angry — otherwise you would not be let off so easily.
But I have a weakness for you which will not suffer
me to quarrel with you for long. I should be delighted
to make it up with you : you have only to make my
mind easy about your banquet, and swear you love
me as much as ever. I will forget and forgive every
thing, and make you see In return that you are very
wrong to be dissatisfied with me, for I deserve all
your love, and do everything to please you. When
VOL. II, 7

440 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb dlueen
you have realised the injustice you do me by your
mad imaginings, you will ask my pardon, and deeply
repent of your bad and wicked thoughts. I fear our
first interview will be spent wholly in explanations,
and the love and tenderness which alone ought to be
present will be conspicuous by its absence ; but you
will have it so — it is not my fault.
" I am coming to you on Tuesday or Wednesday.
I have already sent you word by Stubenfol, and
I hope to find you tender and faithful. If you be
not I shall die, for I am fain to confess that I love
you to distraction: in spite of all my anger and
annoyance, I have never loved you more.
" I forgot to speak about what you told me a
few days ago — that you had made a vow to keep
the sixth* commandment if we should ever live
together. There are no vows I would not joyfully
make to be with you always, too : I wish for nothing
else in the world ; all my thoughts are bent upon it."
¦ The seventh in our liturgy.

CHAPTER XXI
THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE DANES
There is not in the fierce world anything,
Scorn, agony, stripes, bonds, fears, woes, deep shame,
Kingdomless ruin, but with open hands,
With joyous bosom open as to love.
Yea, with soul thankful for its great delight.
And life on fire with joy, for this love's sake
I would not embrace and take it to my heart. Swinburne.
THE Princess came back to Hanover, and a few
days later KOnigsmarck set out for the war,
so their meetings were few and brief. She was
expected to proceed to Herrenhausen, where the
Electoral Court then was ; but she lingered in Hanover,
excusing herself on the ground that Prince Max's
apartments at Herrenhausen adjoined those set apart
for her. The excuse was flimsy, for Prince Max
had recently been staying with her parents at Celle
while she was there ; and though his gaUantry had
once threatened to exceed the friendship allowed to
a brother-in-law, that was long ago, and he now
treated her with only ordinary courtesy. But she had
raised a simiUar objection successfully at Luisburg,
and it served to delay her visit to Herrenhausen
until KOnigsmarck left Hanover. His orders to
441

442 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb (Jlueen
march came suddenly, on his return from a visit
to the Princess, and he had to start the same night
without wishing her good-bye. He left her apart
ments piqued because she seemed to be In a hurry
for him to go : in truth, she was conscious of being
watched by spies, and snatched every moment of her
lover's company with a fearful joy. The first of the
foUowing letters of the Princess was written before
she knew KOnigsmarck had left Hanover for the
campaign ; the next two or three describe an interview
she had with Countess Platen, of which the most
notable point is that the Countess tried to persuade
Sophie Dorothea that it was not she, but the Electress
Sophia, who had made mischief with the Elector
about her Intimacy with KOnigsmarck. The Princess's
letters end with reproaches to her lover for having
left her so unkindly, and having sent her no word
since he went away. "[Hanover], Monday, ^"^^^o-.
" It Is four o'clock, and I can no longer hope to
see you to-day. ^e je suis malheureuse I Vous
netes pas content de moi. I fancy your good-bye
was not so tender as it ought to have been. I am
overwhelmed with many troubles. You are going
away, and I shall not see you for ever so long. I am so
distressed that I wish myself dead this very moment.
I have not slept, I have a dreadful beating of my
heart, and I am so grieved at not seeing you to-day
that I am almost beside myself. Life is unbearable
without you : how cruel of you to doubt it 1 I

trbe Campaign tlgainst tbe Danes 443
cannot forgive your cruel injustice last evening. Is it
possible you think me capable of feeling joyous and
gay on the eve of your departure — I, who would like
to be dead aU the days I spend without you, and
only live when I see you again ?
" My mother has written to me about Max. This
is what she says : — ' Je ne conseille pas, 201 {moi) de
s'embarrasser du voisinage ; si le voisin fait trop de
bruit, il ny a que faire passer votre lit dans V antichambre ;
par la vous eviterez le bruit, et vous eloignerez du
galant,' I shall know what to do ! My mother also
tells me the Electress has thanked her for letting me
come back, and said she was delighted to see me
again. My mother says, considering the kindness the
Electress shows me, it is the right and proper thing
for me to have left my parents and pay her my court,
but she hopes at some future time the Electress will
be good enough to let me return to Celle. That
makes me despair more than ever, for I dare not
hurry my return home, since my mother does not
wish it, and I have only just come back to Hanover."
" [Hanover], Monday, Eleven at night.
" I have been to Herrenhausen, The Electress told
me she had spoken to the Elector, and he thought It
absurd for me to imagine such things about Max, and
said : ' It is only a silly excuse she Is making. I'll
take care that Max won't thrust himself upon her In
any way.' He also said many other things, too long
for me to tell all at once. When he had finished
talking, the Electress asked him if she were to repeat

444 trbe %ovc of an tllncrowneb diueen
everything he had said to me. At first he said :
' Everything you like,' but afterwards he said :
' No.' I asked if the Elector wished me to remain
ignorant of what he had said, because then he wouldn't
understand my coming to Herrenhausen after saying
I should stay In Hanover, and the Electress (who is
by way of being very attentive to me) said she would
write to me a note to-morrow with full instructions
what I am to do, but, whatever happens, I shall
now be here the whole week. The Elector wiU be
obliged to start in a few days, and, from what the
Electress says. Max will be one of the party.
" La Confidente went last night to La Platen's, who
talked a good deal about me. She said that people do
not understand the retired life I lead, and every one is
talking about it ; but that is the least of my troubles,
for I scorn the whole world so long as we love one
another, I had hoped, as I can see you no longer,
that I should receive a line from you to-day ; I am
much disappointed that nothing has come. I wonder
I have the strength to write to you. I am distressed
beyond words at your departure on this campaign.
Mon Dieu ! why have you gone ? What would I
not give to scold you in person for the injustice
you did me yesterday when you thought I wanted
you to leave me sooner than usual? I would give
my warm blood and very life to lengthen the moments
we spend together,
" La Confidente says that La Platen asks to see me
to-morrow ; I fear .she wants an explanation, I expect
to be terribly lectured about my ways, but I will

trbe Campaign Hgainst tbe Danes 445
answer her as she deserves. Max is ill : I wish he
were ill enough to change his quarters. I am Ul too,
but my sickness comes from loving you, and only
you can soothe my pain and cure me."
"[Hanover], Tuesday, August i.
" I cannot be comforted because I see you no
longer. I am sad, too, at not having had a word
from you ; there may be some coldness, and I love
you so passionately that I wish myself dead if you love
me not likewise. I had a note this morning from
the Electress, and she says : ' The Elector told me
over again the same things I told you yesterday —
that it would be absurd for you not to come to
Herrenhausen through such unfounded scruples, and
he will answer for any slander they may circulate ;
Max will not force himself on you in any way, and
you have only to lock the door. So It rests with you
to come whenever you like, when you have quite
done making a fuss.' She adds to that much love.
I wiU turn and twist as much as I possibly can, so
that the Elector will have gone before I get there.
" I fear the letter I wrote to you yesterday has
not the smallest amount of sense in It. I was In a
pitiable state, for your abrupt departure shows that
you are not pleased with me, and I was so ill I
could hardly bear myself. La Platen Is coming to
see me ; I will tell you our conversation before I go
to bed. " Eleven at night.
" I have had a three hours' tete-a-tete with La Platen.
The most important part of the conversation is that

446 trbe %ovc of an tllncrowneb diueen
she knows that the Electress lectured me last year about
you, and said that so far from the Electress speaking
to the Elector in the way she wished me to believe,
c'est elle qui lui en a rompu la tite, et que jamais
Velecteur ne lui a dit un mot, and afterwards the
Electress told several people that she had warned me
to change my conduct with you, as it did you harm.
La Platen then went on to entreat me to alter my
ways [changer de maniere"], saying I lead such a retired
life that everybody wonders at it. People were com
plaining that I neither look at nor speak to them ; I
could not imagine all they say, because it was not natural
for a woman of my age to turn her back so decidedly
on society, and they are seeking to find the cause of
it all. I answered that if I had made any difference
between one and another, if I had not treated every
body In the same way, people would have had a right
to find fault ; but as I favoured nobody, they have
no cause to complain. She spoke several times about
you ; she is only too pleased with you. At last we
parted as intimates ; no friendship could have been
confirmed by more promises than she made me.
" I have not been out of my room to-day, and my
journal will be very long. I am going to bed, as
I am worn out, but I shall not be able to sleep.
How can I, when I have such a big boy as you in
my head ? " "[Hanover], August 5.
" This is the sixth day since you left, and I have
not had a word from you. What neglect and
what disdain ! In what way have I deserved such

trbe Campaign Against tbe Danes 447
treatment ? Is it for loving you to adoration, for
having sacrificed everything ? But what use to
remind you of this ? My suspense is worse than
death ; nothing can equal the torments this cruel
anxiety makes me suffer. What an ill fate is mine,
good God 1 What shame to love without being
loved ! I was born to love you, and I shaU love
you as long as I live. If it be true that you have
changed, and I have no end of reasons for fearing
so, I wish you no punishment save that of never
finding, wherever you may be, a love and fidelity
equal to mine. I wish, despite the pleasures of
fresh conquests, you may never cease to regret the
love and tenderness that I have shown you. You will
never find in the whole world any one so loving
and so sincere. I love you more than woman has ever
loved man. But I tell you the same things too often ;
you must be tired of them. Do not count it ill,
I implore you, nor grudge me the sad consolation
of complaining of your harshness. I am very anxious
for fear they have detained the letter you were
to have written to me from Celle. I have not
received a word ; everything conspires to crush me.
Perhaps in addition to the fact that you no longer
love me, I am on the eve of being utterly lost. It
is too much aU at once ; I shall break down under It.
I must end this to-morrow ; I shall go to Communion.
FareweU. I forgive you all you make me suffer."
This Is the last of the Princess's letters preserved in
this correspondence ; she ends as she began, full of

448 trbe %ovc of an tllncrowneb diueen
love and tender reproaches. The remaining letters are
written by KOnigsmarck, and we have to Invoke
the aid of external evidence to fill up the blanks.
Unfortunately this Is meagre, for Colt (whose entry
book has been a trusty guide) had left CeUe on
his last diplomatic mission early In July. His
orders were to attend the Elector of Saxony during
his campaign on the Rhine. The fatigue of the
long marches was too much for him, and he died
suddenly at the Saxon headquarters, in August,
a martyr to duty If ever there were one, leaving his
widow, who was at Celle, very badly off. He was
succeeded by Cresset, who did not take up his duties
at the Courts of Celle and Hanover until the
following January.
The campaign against the Danes does not appear
to have come to a regular engagement ; the object
of the northern Powers was rather to frighten the
Duke of Celle and the Elector of Hanover into
submission than to drive them to open warfare ; and
even when the two armies were in sight of one
another, separated only by the Elbe, a truce was being
negotiated. Konigsmarck gives a brief account of his
march to the Elbe, which seems to have been from
Hanover to Celle, thence to Luneburg via Epsdorff.
Konigsmarck to the Princess,
"[On the March], Sah^rp^Augusti^
^ -" Tuesday, August 15-
" I hope you had my letter yesterday ; it was sent
by express, but I fear it may not have been delivered

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes

449

to you. I went to dinner at Celle. Their Highnesses
asked me if Madame la Princesse were stUl in Hanover.
I told them I had the honour of playing cards with
her and Madame I'Electrice on Saturday, and since
then I had seen neither of them. Biilow gave me so
much to drink que f avals une bonne raidis. Later
they took me to Madame Boidavls's ; but I don't
remember what I did or said there, and as I had to
return to my quarters, I did not stay very long.
Monsieur Goritz arrived after dinner. He talked a
long time with Monseigneur le Due, and I had the
honour of conversing with Madame la Duchesse.
We talked of serious and pressing matters, but I
had so much wine afterwards that I have clean
forgotten the conversation, wherefore I am very sorry.
Thus the day ended. Wednesday and Thursday went
by in marching, hunting, and being very badly lodged.
Friday, August 4, I had your letter. Don't think
I had forgotten you ; all the time I was thinking of
you, whatever work my regiment may have given
me. I even forgot my duties dreaming of you ; you
are the only being in the world who would make me
forget them. My great anxiety is lest you should be
at Herrenhausen. You know what that means : Prince
Max is there. ... I cannot forget how you hurried me
out of your apartments last Monday — God knows for
what reason. But, ma cherie, don't think I suspect you
of any mean design — no, I believe you are incapable of
any such thing ; It was because it was absolutely neces
sary that I shovdd go, lest we should be discovered. . . .
Adieu, mon ange. Think of him who worships you.

456 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb diueen
and don't let him go out of your thoughts for one
moment. Believe me loving and faithful and proof
against aU. Hell and its torments wUl never make
me change. I will be faithful until death, and after
death." " [On the March], August ^
" Your letter clearly shows that you will always remain
a child and let every one govern you. Your mother
orders your movements more than you do yourself.
Because, I' faith, she tells you the Electress is so kind
that you should pay her great attention, you are let
In for staying at Herrenhausen and Hanover, in spite
of your wishes and mine. Pull yourself together, and
remember you are a woman and no longer a child.
Don't let them lead you by the nose In this way.
It is shameful ! Such childish fears do not become
true-born hearts. Follow your own inclinations, not
those of others. I daresay if La Platen ordered you
to live in a particular way you would obey her,
especially if she told you the Elector thought It
right. He has only to say it is ' absurd ' for you to
change your plans, and forget in a moment aU that
you have sworn a thousand times to me. Say to your
heart, ' Courage, heart of mine.' "
" [From the Camp], August ~
" I hope my two preceding letters have reached
you. This morning I received yours of August i.
I hope you will be satisfied with what I told you. I
did not fail to remember you, but I could not help
my letter miscarrying ; I swear that I sent it by that

'^J.

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 451
peasant. ... I vow by all that Is holy my love for
you has not lessened. If my conduct has altered,
it is because I saw you so different that I hardly
knew you. While I see you so timid and troubled
what am I to think? You will not run the least
risk for me. If what La Platen told you be
true, the Electress's favour wUl please you mightily.
Remember what I have told you about her. I doubt
whether the Elector ever spoke to the Electress, or
if she ever troubled him on the subject. I know
you must be careful. La Platen may be right about
that coincidence ; there Is much likelihood, for the
Elector's haughtiness does not agree with what the
Electress told you. I wonder you stiU cringe to
the Electress as you do ; she will be your ruin sooner
or later. I should send her to the devil if I were in
your place ; but you count her as one of your best
friends. She has told you so many untruths that she
may not have spoken at all to the Elector about
Prince Max, and I firmly believe she has not done so.
" If you had followed my advice, you would not have
given any explanation at all to La Platen about
your conduct. You would have answered curtly, ' I
do as I please ' ; and it would have been better. If
she be pleased with me, it is because I disapproved
of my sister's conduct and pretended to keep in
with her. I don't disapprove of your making up your
quarrel with her, but I hope you will be wise enough
not to tell her anything that might do you the least
harm. God save you from her. You must look
upon her as one of your greatest enemies. I am

452 trbe %ovc of an tllncrowneb diueen
not in the least surprised she spoke to you of me —
she is brazen enough for anything. I should like to
have seen you together — a haughty mistress like her
with so timid a child as you ! I am surprised you
saw her alone. I defy her to tell you the least thing
about me which might shake your trust. If I have
said anything pleasant to her, it was only on very
indifferent matters, and at a time when I had quarrelled
with you. Do not complain about my temper, I
Implore you ; no one could be gentler than I am, and
I am learning to be patient. You know I hate La
Platen with a deadly hatred, and it Is indifferent to
me whether she comes here or not. I am too much
occupied in thinking of you. I love you, I adore
you now with as much ardour as I have ever done.
Had I not written to you, you would have been
right in saying that I don't love you, but this is the
third letter I have written on the march. I could
not do more, for I have only been at villages where
the post does not pass near by leagues. I don't in
the least deserve your reproaches, though I read
them with some pleasure ; for I see tenderness mingled
with the anger. Ah ! if you loved me as I love
you, how happy I should be ! But, ma cherie, our
last evening together was not all that I would have
wished. I could not write before I left Hanover,
for when I got home I found everything packed
up and ready to start, and I was in such despair
I jumped on my horse and rode out of the town
as fast as I could. . . . Farewell. My superior
officers have arrived — Prince Max also."

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 4S3
" [On the March], August —
"Since twelve o'clock the night before last I have
been perpetually on horseback, and I rode more than
twelve leagues without setting foot to the ground.
No engagement has yet taken place, though we are
within speaking distance of the Danes ; there is
only the river between us. But war by-and-by, —
let us now talk of love. I have yours dated the
4th. With what joy I read it ! I love you to
adoration. I will do all that you wish, only forgive
me if I cannot write you longer letters. Truly, on
my honour, I have not the time, and since ten
o'clock I have only had two hours' sleep. Love me
always, no flirting, and leave Herrenhausen as soon
as you can for Celle. Adieu." " [By the Elbe], August —
" We are hard pressed here, and the truce is broken ;
it looks as though we shaU bang away at one another
to-morrow. Should anything happen to me I have
given orders for your letters and portrait (which I
have sealed in a packet) to be burned. I want to
die less than ever, for your letter gives me hope and
courage, it is so tender and unconstrained. I am
deUghted with it ; It makes me happier than the gods.
I am more In love than ever. I have plenty of time
to think of my passion, for I am patroUing day and
night. You are always before my eyes ; I think of you
from the crown of your head to the tip of your toe.
I reflect I am the only possessor of the jewel, which
fell into my hands in so marvellous a way, and count

454 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb diueen
myself the happiest man in the world. Should I die,
if the good God has decreed my death, remember I
die your true slave and faithful lover ; and if one can go
on loving in the other world, I vow that I wIU declare
myself to you, and all the beauties of Paradise wiU
never lure me from thee. Adieu." " [By the Elbe], August —
" My letters are so short that I fear you may be
angry ; yet It Is not through negligence, but the calls
of duty. We have so few officers that I cannot get a
moment's peace. It is now between ten and eleven
o'clock at night, and at twelve o'clock we go on
guard, which lasts tiU morning. From three to seven
I sleep, and at seven Le Felton gives me work for
half the day. Our plans here change every day ! I
cannot tell you what will happen. I had a talk with
Buccow about many things. Among other things,
I said your mother was rapidly wasting away. He
contradicted me flatly, and swore he would wager
three thousand crowns In solid silver against me. If
he be right you will be happy. Buccow told me that
when you were at Celle the Duchess bathed on the
ramparts in the great vats that are there. Do please
tell me if this is true, for he said you did the same."
"[FROM THE Camp], ^^
" Enfant aimable, how shall I find words to thank
you for your dear letter, filled with thousands of
loving, tender, charming things ! They touch me to
the quick. I love you more than ever. I would not
change my lot for the Ottoman Empire. Would to

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 45 s
Heaven news of peace would come once for aU ! I
would be at your knees, I would run to you,
Beloved, I would bathe your feet with my tears, and
die with joy at being united to the woman whose
absence makes me pine to a shadow. But I fear such
happiness will not come yet, for affairs here begin
to drag. Marshal Podevils is suffering from a slight
fever ; I hope it will not last, or else I do not
see much chance of getting away all the winter. If
peace should not be made. The suspense is kiUing
me. Dieu ! what should I do ? I would rather
leave the service than stay here."
While negotiations were pending between the King
of Denmark and the princes of Brunswick-Liineburg,
the Danish general took the law in his own hands,
bombarded Ratzeburg, and destroyed the fortifications.
It was urged that he misunderstood his orders and acted
too soon ; but there Is little doubt this excuse was merely
a diplomatic ruse ; and, the ostensible casus belli —
the fortifications of Ratzeburg — having been removed,
the King of Denmark signified his willingness to make
peace on his own terms. As the only alternative was
invasion, which they were ill prepared to resist (and
which later happened under the Duke of Lauenburg),
the Duke of Celle and his brother had to put the
best face they could on the matter, and the next two
months were taken up in negotiations for the treaty,
AU this time the Hanoverian army was compelled to
remain by the Elbe, and KOnigsmarck with it. Fever
broke out among the troops, and Marshal PodevUs,
VOL. II. 8

456 trbe %ovc of an tllncrowneb diueen
the commander-in-chief, was seized with It, and had
to be taken to Luneburg.
The Princess meanwhile had left Hanover for
another visit to her parents at Celle, where doubtless
she renewed her prayers for money. She could not
have chosen a worse time, for the exchequer of Celle
was very low, and she was met with stern refusal.
This, joined to the desperate state of KOnigsmarck's
affairs and the general hopelessness of the situation,
preyed on her mind so much that she became seriously
ill. When KOnigsmarck heard the news, his first
thought was to get leave and go to her at CeUe ;
but on reflection he saw the thing was impossible,
as his presence was required at the camp. AU this
is made plain in the following letters :
"[FROM the Camp], ^^
" At this very moment Biilow is crossing the Elbe
with the news that Ratzeburg is bombarded ; it is in
ashes. His mission is to testify to their Highnesses
that General Valdel has bombarded the place a day
sooner than he ought to have done, for the King gave
him orders to wait till Monday, meaning all day
Monday ; but Valdel, too delighted to open fire, began
on Monday at six o'clock in the morning, and at
noon the town was all in flames. When the King
heard of It, he ran to cry a halt, for he had promised
to do nothing before Wednesday. I let you know
this because the King is sending a message by Biilow
to express his regret and to make an offer of peace,
on the basis of the last terms proposed on his side.

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 457
So it now depends upon our masters whether there
shaU be peace or war. In the latter event I shall
not see you for a long time, and you may be obliged
to flee for safety to Berlin or Amsterdam."
"[FROM THE CAMP], ^^
" Danger is over for the present ; and I do not
exert myself much, for there is no longer any
prospect of advancement for me. So It seems you
will probably see your lover safe and sound, unless
the sickness all about should catch him. Do not
therefore be any longer uneasy about me. The
courier who went to Flanders was only sent to make
the thing look more Important. I firmly believe that
they wIU not make the troops come back, for they
are really talking about patching up this affair : rather
a difficult task, but our side must make a virtue of
necessity. That Is how things stand.
" Your assurances of tenderness fill me with rapture ;
you say you would love me without arms or legs.
Surely you wish me to give up the ghost altogether
for very joy. You are my idol ; I worship you, and
my love wiU only end with my life. I am passionate,
tender, faithful ; my only joy is to think of your
lovely eyes and the fire which darts from them — that
sweet fire which burns my heart. But I cannot
understand why you went to see La Platen before you
left Hanover ; for three years you have not been
near her, and now you begin. I know you are very
timid, but why should you go to see her ? Sometimes
we must worship the devil lest he should harm us."

4SS trbe %ox>c ot an tilncrowneb diueen
" [From the Camp], August 29.
" I can see from your letter that you are ailing,
for I found In It nothing to move me. I won't
scold you, for I want to know if you are reaUy
very 111. Don't alarm me if it be not so, and
I implore you, don't eat fruit, — there is nothing so
bad for one ; lots of people fall ill through that.
Dysentery is raging everywhere. Dieu ! if such a
misfortune were to faU on me, I couldn't bear it. I
am raging to know how you are. I wanted to leave
my post and go to Celle ; but then it would aU have
burst, and we should be ruined in reputation. Alas 1
poor lover 1 do you consider your reputation when
your beautiful one is III ? No, no ! let me risk
everything. If I do not hear to-morrow evening
that you are better, expect me. I wiU fly to
your side, and won't budge an inch until you
are well. I beg your pardon, my beautiful one,
for all I have ever said to wound you. Do not
refuse forgiveness, I entreat you; take care of your
health, my life ; rest, and spare yourself. What
shall I do if a great sickness seize you? I shudder
when I think of It, and death looms before my
eyes. If I could only be at the foot of your bed
to take care of you, it would comfort me a little!
But how can I manage it ? Perhaps I should not
see you at all, for you wiU be surrounded by
your women if it be true you are really iU. Marshal
Podevils has been carried off to Liineburg, and that
gives me more work ; for though Bocage has the left
wing, I have so much to do on the right wing that

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 459
I haven't a moment to myself. I shall be glad to end
this campaign without having anything to reproach
myself with. Adieu. May the angels preserve you ! "
Konigsmarck to Frdulein von Knesebeck,
" You distress me by not giving me better news.
Tell Her Highness not to trouble about writing to me.
I absolutely refuse to allow her to write while she
suffers so. How joyfully I would go to comfort
her were it not for Marshal Podevils' illness 1 Besides,
the truce ends to-day, and I have received orders
to be on guard. You can imagine how that news
grieves me. I am rewarded by the Duke of Celle,
but not by the Elector, so I am raging. I vow, on
my damnation, that were it not for my dearest love I
would quit the Hanoverian service directly this business
Is over. I will write of this more to-morrow. I
received Leonnlsse's sweet messages with joy. I pray
God soon to give her better health. Embrace her
tenderly from me."
Konigsmarck to the Princess,
'• Altemburg, September —
" The joy I feel at knowing that you are out of
danger is very great, and I pray Heaven you will soon
lose your weakness. If it will only go away, I shall
not mind if it leave you pale and thin and reduced to
a shadow. My only wish is that you suffer no longer.
I should be unhappy Indeed were my love only
inspired by your beauty, for in twenty-four hours,
nay, even less, your loveliness might change to

46o tibe Xove of an tllncrowneb diueen
ugliness, and then where should I be? My love
is founded on more solid qualities, and it wiU never
change even when you are eighty years old. The
beauty of person is but a passing thing, but the
beauty of merit lasts for eternity. I am not a man
to be in love with mere beauty ; it often dazzles
me, but never blinds me, for I have frequently
noticed that where beauty is so great merit is very
little. I vow to you still that I do not know when
my love for you has made me easy for even a quarter
of an hour ; even now scarcely a night goes by
but I sit up half the time fearing this and fearing
that. I sometimes think if I had done right I
should never have paid you my court, for I ought
to have thought about the future and all the con
sequences that would follow upon our love. But
then, / knew you, and I gave myself up to you.
I could not listen to reason, but only to my heart.
Too late I see all the obstacles in the way of our
happiness, and I know you see them too. You
have more to lose than I have. In the rank you are;
but we cannot alter that, so, ma cherie, let us have
pity on each other and hate the fate which makes
us so unhappy. Do not think that I shall ever repent
having devoted myself to you. No, no ! my divine
Leonnisse ; had I to begin all over again I should
do the same thing. My passion carries me away.
I cannot write so coldly as you did for four whole
pages, but no doubt your weakness made your love
seem weak. I wiU say what my true and sound
heart dictates. In spite of aU obstacles if only you

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 461
\vill not waver, I will show you a constancy that
will last till death. Ah 1 my dear, my dear ! true
heart wounds are incurable. All joy, all danger,
make no difference. They only bring home to me
that nothing Is dearer than the love I bear for you ;
and the more dangers, the more difficulties there are
to be overcome, the greater will be the victory. The
conquest of the whole world is nothing to me com
pared with the conquest of your heart. When the
time comes for us to be together always, we will
sing, ' How delightful Is this place ! Let us taste its
delights.' But when will that happy hour dawn ?
I am waiting for It with intense Impatience. It is
' better late than never,' — a detestable proverb for
loving hearts, but what would you?
" As the Prince has desired you to return to
Hanover soon. It is no use your thinking of going
to Epsdorff, or GOhre, but go straight to Hanover,
I shall not be done here this month, and the
month of November will bring back all our warriors,
and as the Prince Is one of them we must take
advantage of the precious time. If it be true that
you have such an aversion to the Prince, I pity you,
for you will suffer even more than I do, and that
is not a little. . . . The Prince is one of those
monsters who devoured the ungrateful Andromeda.
Would to Heaven I were Perseus to free you from
him ; but, alas ! what can a mortal man do ? ... I am
all yours, heart, soul, and body. Ah ! if I could but
kiss that little mouth whose sweetness I have so often
tasted. My blood riots when I think of it. For eight

462 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb diueen
weeks I have been keeping Lent. I have not shaved
since I left Hanover, I have been living like a monk,
fasting on Sundays and not missing a sermon, and
all for the sake of the sweetest little woman in the
world, whom I love more than my two eyes — so
tenderly that I cannot find words to express my
feelings. My only joy is In gazing on and kissing
your portrait as I lie on my bed, without taking my
eyes and lips off it for two hours at a stretch. In
those moments I must own that I am not a monk,
for my passion carries me away. Adieu, adieu."
When the Princess had recovered from her illness
she was sent back to Hanover, and her mother went
with her. The Electoral Prince, George Louis, had
now returned from the campaign in Flanders, and
the Elector of Hanover and the Duke of CeUe
agreed that It would be better for him in the future
to remain at home and see more of his wife and
chUdren. Even the Duchess of Celle urged her
daughter to attach herself more to her husband. The
affairs of the house of Brunswick-Liineburg were not
at their brightest ; the trouble with the Danes was
a heavy blow, and the campaign this year in Flanders
had been attended with disaster all along the line. The
French had captured Ghent, won the battles of Linden
and Neerwinden, and besieged and taken Charleroy.
The star of William and the Allies was certainly
not in the ascendant, and the general depression
made itself felt at Hanover and Celle. Under these
circumstances it was all the more necessary for the

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 463
families to pull together and show no disunion. The
Princess was therefore bidden to return to Hanover
and her wifely duty, and make the best she could
of her lot — advice which could hardly have been
more unpalatable. Her dismay was shared by Konigs
marck, who, on receipt of the news, endeavoured to
obtain leave from the camp and set out for Celle,
where the Princess was. She had been delaying her
departure on the pretext that she was not yet well
enough to travel. Of KOnigsmarck's letters at this
time we give the following : " [From the Camp], October i.
" Oh, cruel destiny ! oh, endless misfortune ! why
wilt thou always distress me ? Scarcely did I see
the sun's rays than a cloud robbed them from my
eyes. Only this fatal blow was needed. What ! I
may not even taste three or four days of bliss with
you ? Oh, my dear one I I ought to have worshipped
you from afar, not loved you ; Heaven punishes me
for my audacity. You are happier than I, for you
hope your mother will find a way out of your
troubles ; but I have no hope, and greatly fear your
plans will not succeed. Alas ! where am I to look for
consolation ? My charming divinity, let me bury
myself in some lonely corner of the world, far away
from the light, since all hope of passing my life
with you is lost. I pity you, my angel ; yet I suffer
more, for I am the cause of your pain and sorrow.
Take care that the Prince does not find any cold
ness in you, though that advice Is greatly against my

464 trbe %ovc of an tllncrowneb diueen
inclination. You must guard yourself against the danger
that threatens you. 1 therefore advise you to cajole
and flatter the man I wish you to hate ; you must
coax him without fail. The tears you are shedding
are tears of blood to me. But for me you would be,
the happiest woman In the world ; yet remember, I
suffer no less than you. I thought by devoting
myself wholly to you that I should be the happiest of
men ; but destiny has thwarted us. I have forsaken
relatives, friends, countrymen, estates, and wealth to
have the joy of sometime tasting peacefuUy the
delights of our mutual love ; but, alas ! I have
lost all without gaining my desire.
"A certain friend of our Court told me that they
think the treaty will soon be signed, but the Danes
make so many quibbles that It is postponed from
day to day. We shall still be here ten or twelve
days, so the Prince will see you before me, and
this cuts me to the heart. Count Platen's son came
to see me yesterday, and brought me a letter from
his mother, who is reckoned great among us here ;
I enclose it to you, so that I may have nothing to
reproach myself with. My answer was only six lines,
and as cavalier as courtesy permitted. When I have
the happiness of seeing you, I wiU repeat it word
for word. The young Count told me that the
peace would be signed for certain on Tuesday, but
as that is too long for me to wait I must try to
find some other means of seeing you at Celle before
you go to Hanover, I don't know If I can manage
it, but I shall know to-morrow. . . .

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 465
" V envoi, — I am writing to ask Marshal Podevils to
give me leave for three days. I shaU be at Celle be
fore you go away. Directly I know I will start at once.
I will come disguised. Wait for me on the small stair
case two nights running until twelve o'clock. I know
the way to the hidden staircase at the back, and will
wait for the signal if I reach there safely. Adieu."
Whether Konigsmarck saw the Princess at Celle
or not it is Impossible to say. But this much is
certain — he returned to Hanover from the campaign
late in October, some weeks after the Princess's
arrival there. The following letters (which bring
this correspondence to an end) were all written
between then and the close of the year. The first is
the most Interesting, for it shows that the Princess
had qualms of conscience about the double life she
was leading, though she had not the strength to break
from it. Her desire was to flee with KOnigsmarck
to some far-off land, obtain a divorce from her
husband, marry her lover, and live in what Count
Schulenburg-Klosterrode quaintly calls " an honourable
married state." In other words, she wished paradoxi
cally to get rid of the temptation by yielding to it.
KOnigsmarck, on his part, was not backward in
sophistries ; he reminded her that their thoughts had
always been directed towards matrimony, and, once
united to the Princess, he vowed to lead a sober and
cleanly \\ie. Whether these good Intentions would
have been carried out it boots not to speculate ;
but one thing was now certain, KOnigsmarck could

466 trbe %ovc of an tancrowneb diueen
not remain in the service of the Elector of Hanover.
He was still received at Court, but every movement
was watched. His stolen meetings with the Princess
were few and far between and attended with great risk.
Often their appointments were not able to be kept,
while the fact of a letter having been missing or
a signal misunderstood was sufficient to throw them
both Into a fever of agitation. Yet he was stiU so
unreasonable that, if the Princess treated him in
public with necessary reserve, he reproached her
passionately in private. Marshal Podevils warned him
again, the Duchess of Celle warned her daughter,
and the coldness of the Elector and Electress and
the gossip of the whole Court must have been
surely more than sufficient to point out the extreme
danger of the path the lovers were treading. Yet
they rushed on, not blindly, but with their eyes
wide open, to the very edge of the precipice. Thus
ended the year. Konigsmarck to the Princess.
"[Hanover], Thursday morning.
" If your father be ruined you will have nothing
left to hope for, but I believe the demands of the
Danish envoys will not be so exorbitant as all that.
You think that I no longer wish to see you ; you must
know I wish it more than ever, and it wiU not be
good for us to be kept apart much longer — for many
reasons, the chief being that should the Danes come
into the country — God preserve us I — they might open
all letters, and ours also. To avoid that possibUity

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 467
we should have to break off all communication, and
without being able to see or write to you my life would
not be worth living. So you think your love for
me is a great sin, and you believe God punishes you
for it. Great heavens ! what a thought ! Do not get
such an idea in your head, for that kind of folly might
lead you far from me. You know that our resolves,
our inclinations, our wishes are in harmony with
the divine laws, and it only depends on Him above
to take us away from the life we lead. I vow to
Him after that I will sin no more against the sixth
commandment, and I wUl lead a pious life, free from
reproach. Make Him also the same vows — perhaps
He will hear our prayers. I am longing for that
happy consummation, and with what joy I will
repent of my sins I Your caresses, your love, your
very presence will be all-sufficient to me."
" [Hanover], Saturday.
" Your letter gave me almost as great a fright
as your mother gave to you. My careless valet
brought it in to me saying aloud, ' Sir, Madame votre
Maitresse sends you this letter, and wishes for an
answer.' Goritz, Weyke, and others were present.
Without losing countenance I pretended to be angry,
saying, ' A man bothers me.' They asked what
he bothered me about. I said, ' He wants to
sell me a horse worth nothing, and he demands
the money down.' So I got out of it this time,
and I have given strict orders for It not to happen
again. After my friends, who were all men, had
gone away, I read your letter, and found great

468 trbe %ovc of an tllncrowneb diueen
consolation in It. I was glad to find that scarcely
a moment had passed after your arrival before you
wrote to me. Why did you not rest first ? Think
of your health and then of your slave, for in
taking care of yourself you are taking care of me.
I am sure you will not refuse my prayer. Not
Orpheus, nor Adonis, nor Jupiter himself will make
me jealous this time. I trust your word. It is only
our separation that tortures me now. I had a litde
touch of fever this afternoon, but nothing much.
" The Elector went to see La Platen last evening ;
you may imagine the good counsel they took
together, but it doesn't matter to us. Let us always
love one another, and let them do what they like.
What do we care ? "
"[Hanover], Tuesday, Two o'clock after midnight,
" Your conduct is not very kind. You appoint
a rendezvous, and then leave me to freeze to death
in the cold, waiting for the signal. You must have
known that I was there from 11.30 tlU i, waiting
in the street. I know not what to think, but
I can hardly doubt your Inconstancy after having
such Icy proofs of It. You did not deign to look
at [me all the evening, you purposely avoided playing
cards with me, and you wanted to get rid of me.
I will go away quickly enough. FareweU, then. I
start to-morrow morning for Hamburg. " \The next morning],
" Having spent the whole night without sleeping,
I have had time to think over my troubles. I

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 469
determined to go, but then I remembered I once
swore to you that I would never go away abruptly,
and I want to know before I go the reason of your
behaviour. That Is why I am stiU here to-day. I
shall not appear at Court, for I mortally hate It, and
so you will not be able to give me the signal with
your eyes ; but the other way will let me know if
I may come In. I am glad I did not continue my
letter last night, for I was in so violent a rage
that I should certainly have said some unpleasant
things for which I should now be sorry."
" [Hanover, undated.]
" I was sure that you would be dissatisfied with me
because I did not keep my appointment. I don't know
if you think my reason a good one, but It was a very
real one. . . .^ But, I say, why did you let me wait
the day before yesterday two hours in the street ? and
why do you not excuse yourself ? Do you think I am
not hurt by such treatment ? Read my first letter,
you will see the reasons why I thought you ought
to have let me know. I did not cry out about it,
but that did not prevent me being very much
piqued. Your letter of yesterday charmed me : I
will make a play of it, for, besides the wit, it is filled
with natural and convincing tenderness. I can see
It Is my charming princess, my Sophie, who wrote
It — adorable angel I I shed tears In reading your
letter. Your lovely eyes have been bathed in tears,
' He was ill, but there is no need to quote his detailed description of
his illness.

470 trbe %ovc of an tancrowneb diueen
and I am the cause ! KOnigsmarck, thou dost not
deserve to possess Sophie's loving heart,"
" [Hanover], Tuesday.
" My anxiety wiU not let me sleep. I go over
everything in my mind, even my childhood ; but I
cannot find the letter I had from you last night nor
remember where I put It. I burned one yesterday, —
it might have been yours by mistake. Unfortunately
the missing letter is the one in which you notified
when and where I might see you. It was the last
I had from you. I remember it well ; I had it
from La Confidente on Sunday morning, for yesterday
morning she had one from me ; but she did not write
back, and that worries me. I did not find anything
in my hat last night. You remember that you asked
me what I was looking for. I answered : ' My hat ;
some one has stolen my gloves.' You replied : ' No
doubt, for Count Home, or Oxensterne, I don't
remember which one it was, had a fringed pair of
gloves stolen.' You see, I remember trifles. Do
not imagine, then, I could have forgotten such a
thing as an appointment with you. Would to
Heaven I had forgotten, for I fear our carelessness
will be our ruin. I swear to you that I looked In
my hat, and, as to my gloves, I put them on, but
there was nothing in them. I was angry with La
Confidente, for she had given me the signal and yet
I found nothing [in my hat]. I thought she had not
had an opportunity. But I was much surprised on
leaving the room to find nothing, for La Confidente

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 471
had given me the signal a second time. I wanted
to speak to her about it, but Prince Ernest foUowed
me so closely, and Stutenfrlch was next to me on
the other side, that I could not do so. You will see
from my letter of last night that I made no mistake ;
it was written as soon as I got home. If I had had
one from you I should not have forgotten It in three
hours' time, despite my poor memory. Dieu ait pitie
de nous, car sans son secours je ne sais comment nous
sortirons de cette affaire, I take Him as witness that
I fear not the peril I run. But to lose you for ever,
that Is what distresses me !
" If I wished to go away from you. It was because
I might be able to help you better at a distance than
if I were near. They might Imprison me perhaps,
but that Is a ridiculous thought ; I will not dream of
it. I was admiring you last evening, watching you
laughing before that mirror in so merry a mood ; yet
all the time I was trembling, for I thought that the
Elector and your mother were already talking about
that letter, and were planning how to punish us.
Your cheerfulness makes me suspect many things :
sometimes I think you wiU not see me for a long
time and little by Uttle detach yourself from me.
Other thoughts come into my head whereof I will
not write to you. I am so troubled because of that
accident that my brain is in a whirl. To crown it all,
Madame Goritz has told me that she knows I hid
incognito three days in the town without showing
myself, and the people I employed in my intrigue
had betrayed me, and a dozen things beside ; it
VOL. II. 9

472 ttbe l-ove ot an tllncrowneb diueert
would take too long to write it all. This, added
to the loss of your note, makes me beside myself
If among all my sorrows I had not the one of
fearing that you might weary of me, I should
console myself In spite of everything, but that
thought finishes me. Should they begin to question
La Confidente as to whether I have written to her
sometimes, she must say at once that I wrote to
her several times from Flanders, but not from here.
My brother-in-law [Count Lewenhaupt] must be
apprised of the same thing, so that we may not
betray ourselves. It is necessary my brother-in-
law should know what to answer in case he should
be questioned, and know to whom the letters were
addressed which my lacquey brought him. I shaU
say that when I went away I asked him to give
the letters addressed to the ' Frole Crunbuglen '
to a woman who would ask for them under that
name, and he sent on to me the answers the woman
brought, without asking from whom the letters came.
He must say neither more nor less. If I do not
make my meaning clear, I must have a word with
you, for it Is wise to take precautions in time, lest we
be discovered. You must deny ever having written
to me at all, but La Confidente must not deny that
I have spoken about you in case they ask what I
have written to her." "[Hanover, undated.]
" What will you say, Madame, when you learn
that they did not let me go through the day without
the misfortune I dreaded? Marshal Podevils was

THE LEINE SCHLOSS, HANOVER

[To face p. 472.

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 473
the first to tell me to beware of my conduct, because
he knew on good authority that I was watched. I
pressed him to give me more particulars, saying I did
not understand what he meant ; but he would tell
me nothing except that it was concerning a lady of
the Court, and you can see to whom he refers. I
was not satisfied, and implored him to tell me more
positively in what way my conduct was wrong. He
said he would do so to-morrow on condition I
promised not to speak to any one about it. Prince
Ernest has told me the same thing ; and he Is not quite
as guarded as the other, for he admitted that the
conversations I had from time to time with you
might draw upon me very unpleasant and serious
consequences. I could not wait any longer in the
ante-chamber for fear of breaking down after hearing
such news. Were you to see the state I am In you
would pity me ; my eyes, from which a torrent of
tears has flowed, would show you how my heart Is
aching. O God ! where am I to find a shelter to end
my misery ? O cruel Fate ! scarcely hast thou let me
taste the delights of love than thou plungest me into
the most pitiable state ever known ! From what
I could gather from Prince Ernest, all that he knows is
through Le BarbouUIeur, and he, no doubt, will speak
to me about it, but up to now he has avoided me. I
shall know to-morrow : perhaps I shall suffer arrest
and death. . . . Nothing has touched me to the
quick so much as to find that our affair Is in every
one's mouth. I wouldn't mind the Electress of
Brandenburg's knowing it, if only half the Court

474 trbe %ovc of an tancrowneb diueen
did not know it too. When am I to see you ? When
shall I gaze Into those beautiful eyes? When will
they beam on me and declare the joy it gives
you to rest in my arms ? " "[Hanover, undated.]
" For God's sake do not show me any coldness !
I fancied that when you left the room you would not
deign to look at me. How that seeming affront
stung me ! I am not the cause of what happened
yesterday. You must blame the stars that rule
our lives — you must blame them and not me, for I
love and adore you, and think only, day and night,
of how to please you. Behold my face, my conduct,
my steps, my looks, — do you think I fail in the
least trifle ? do you notice any signs of weariness ?
Alas ! far from that, I love you more than ever.
My passion upsets my reason, and that Is why I
cannot conceal what I feel. Adorable one, I wIU
love thee to the tomb ! To-night thou shalt be
mine — yea, though I perish."
" [Hanover], Tuesday evening, 5 o'clock.
" I do not know if I am to attribute the sadness
in your eyes to your pious scruples or to the news
of my departure. I flattered myself It was the latter
during the game ; but at supper the sad look vanished
and you were as cheerful as ever. Perhaps your
partner's conversation had something to do with it,
for he seemed to put you in good temper in a
moment. Perhaps I do you wrong : and you restrained
yourself so that no one should notice your grief; In

trbe Campaign against tbe Danes 47s
that case I forgive you. I wanted to ask you yesterday
to let me affect a cheerful look, but I could not do
so. I beg you, don't let La Confidente make me
signs when she has nothing to give me, or when she
does not want to speak to me. I was anxious about
her signals all night.
" I needed your letter to deliver me from profound
grief. Everything depends on to-morrow's news.
I feel like a crimmal under sentence of death, who
is to be executed on the morrow. Death would not
grieve me more than to separate myself from you. I
am more than grateful for your consent to see me ;
but I know that interview will break my heart, for I
have to leave you amid many pleasures, in the midst
of Court society, and surrounded by no end of hand
some gallants.^ The Electress wiU put opportunities
in your way and you will not be able to avoid
them. " UntU now 1 have always thought my passion was
the cause of our differences, and I have blamed
myself for acting in so jealous a manner ; but,
Madame, the quarrel we had yesterday evening shows
me clearly you cannot live without quarrelling. From
the most Innocent thing In the world you magnify the
greatest fault imaginable. When I am in the wrong
and offend you, why are you not reasonable enough
to say : ' I will not have you speaking to me In that
way, and if it occur again we shall fall out.' I
should then take care not to commit the same fault
' This probably referred to a visit Kdnigsmarck was going to make
to Hamburg.

476 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb diueen
again. But no, you are always picking a quarrel with
me. You know such ways distress me, and, added
to the wicked affronts I suffer every day from all
sides, they crush me so that I do not know what
keeps me from taking my leave. I shall certainly
do so to-morrow, for it Is evident you wish to
make my life unbearable. Le BarbouIUeur found a
good deal of fault with you for talking so much
to that violinist. Of course it was not seemly for
a lady of your rank ; but I am no longer in the
state of mind to teU you what is seemly and what Is
not. I must think about beating a retreat, for the
way you treat me is beyond bearing ; I would rather
lose my sight than be treated so. For mercy's sake,
cannot you alter your ways for the sake of a lover
who adores you tenderly ? Think of all the trouble
you have caused me, of all the risks I run, and if
there be the least spark of love left in you, you
will not let a heart perish on which your image Is
for ever graven." "[Hanover, undated.]
"I am joyful to hear of your return (from
Herrenhausen), and as my sickness is ended, if you
will allow me to come to you and kiss your knees
and ask your pardon for all my suspicions, I shall
be overjoyed. I am punished enough for them,
God knows ; for I have been sick unto death with
grief and rage, and I had no news of you. I will
see you any day and hour you wish. Farewell."

CHAPTER XXII
THE GATHERING STORM
My star ! a baleful one.
I see the black night, and hear the wolf.
What star? Tennyson, Queen Mary.
KONIGSMARCK went to Hamburg in January
to see if he could raise money, but he failed,
and returned to Hanover more embarrassed than
before. At Hanover he had long outworn his
welcome : the Court had no smiles for alien nobles
when they were short of money, and KOnigsmarck
was now a suspect and under a cloud.
Apart from the chronic difficulty with Sophie
Dorothea, the Electoral family had its own worries.
Prince Max was again troublesome, and the King of
Denmark and Duke Antony Ulrich of Wolfenbiittel
were secretly inciting him to rebel. The hatred of
the last-named prince for the House of Hanover was
now open and declared ; and he was an exceedingly
dangerous enemy, as his knowledge of the domestic
discontent in the Elector's family gave him much
opportunity of intrigue. Informed of everything at
the Hanoverian Court, it is said that Duke Antony
477

478 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb diueen
Ulrich made overtures to Sophie Dorothea to induce
her to take part against the Electoral House, and
she was not indisposed to listen, though she hesitated
to commit herself until all hope of obtaming
money for a separate establishment from her father
was at an end.
Both Hanover and Wolfenbiittel were full of
spies, employed by their respective princes against
each other, and the Elector soon got knowledge
of these intrigues. Prince Max was sent to Savoy,
where he took command of a regiment of cavalry,
his father allowing him thirteen thousand dollars
instead of the six thousand he had previously
granted him. But, as the English envoy shrewdly
remarks, this was " only to get rid of him, for fear
he should revolt again." ^ Prince Christian, who
was also suspected, was sent into Hungary to take
part in a campaign for the Emperor. Of the dis
affected there remained only Sophie Dorothea, whose
intrigue with KOnigsmarck, if the Elector had but
known it, was the most dangerous of all. But as soon
as Ernest Augustus had got rid of his Insubordinate
sons he fell 111, so 111 that fears were entertained
of his life ; these family worries had probably told
upon his health, for he was now advancing In years,
and had always been a free liver. He was not
nearly as robust as his elder brother, the Duke of
Celle, whose temperate habits and love of hunting
' Cresset's Despatches, Celle, March 20, 1694. Prince Max subse
quently became a Roman Catholic and Jacobite, and died in open
rebellion against his elder brother (George I.) in 1726.

trbe ©atbering Storm 479
and outdoor pursuits gave him the enjoyment of
vigorous health.
The Elector's serious IUness brought many questions
to the front which had hitherto lain in abeyance.
Though there was every reason to believe the Electoral
Prince would adhere in the main to his father's policy,
yet the Elector's death, which now seemed within the
range of practical politics, would of necessity bring
about changes — none more momentous than the de
thronement of Countess Platen from the position of
power she had so long enjoyed. It would mean, also,
the relegation of the Electress Sophia to the com
parative obscurity of Electress-Dowager, and would,
of course. Involve the accession of Sophie Dorothea to
the dignity of Electress. Sophie Dorothea did not
covet the Electoral diadem, but it would be thrust
upon her whether she would or no, and the mere fact
of being Electress, though she had no influence with
her husband, would of necessity give her added
dignity and honour. She would become a force
for her enemies to reckon with, especially as she had
the CeUe family Influence at her back.
The prospect of Sophie Dorothea reigning at
Hanover as Electress was not contemplated with
equanimity either by the Electress Sophia or by the
Countess Platen, though from different reasons.
Countess Platen well understood that the new
Electress would certainly not Ignore her arrogance
as the Electress Sophia had done, and she might
even refuse to receive her at her Court. She there
fore redoubled her efforts to involve the Princess in

48o trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb diueen
disgrace and ruin, and unfortunately the Konigsmarck
affair gave her a handle. There Is nothing to show that
the Electress Sophia took part in these tactics, for though
she strongly disliked the idea of the daughter of the
despised d'Olbreuse taking precedence of her, her line
of policy had hitherto been to give Countess Platen a
wide berth, and she was not likely to reverse it now.
The Princess cared nothing for affairs of State,
and, absorbed as she was in her mad passion for
Konigsmarck, heedless alike of appearances and con
sequences, she thoughtlessly played into the hands of
her enemies. Countess Platen was so far successful
in her manoeuvres that she managed to poison the
mind of the Elector against his daughter-in-law, and
she inflamed the Electoral Prince against his wife
anew. The immediate result was that he put spies
to watch Sophie Dorothea and KOnigsmarck, and the
Princess's position at Hanover became more Intoler
able than before. The lynx-eyed Knesebeck became
aware of the danger, and implored the Princess either
to give up the intrigue or to allow her to retire from
her service. But the Princess refused to let her go,
and Knesebeck, who was devotedly attached to her
mistress, reaUsing that If she abandoned her she
would be without a friend, stayed on. She was
aware of the constant efforts which the Princess
was making to leave Hanover and obtain a residence
in Celle territory from her father, and she probably
thought if she remained she might save her mistress
from desperate steps and follow her in an honourable
retreat from Hanover.

trbe Oatbering Storm 481
But obstacles only seemed to heighten the Princess's
passion. Since her return from Celle in the autumn
she had not relaxed her efforts to obtain money
from her parents ; but the Duke of CeUe had no
funds to spare, crippled as he was by ruinous wars,
nor was he in a mood to listen to the language of
revolt. With her mother the Princess appears to have
been more successful, for we find Cresset, the English
envoy, writing to England about this time of " the
desire of this Duchess [CeUe] to pay thirty thousand or
forty thousand crowns a fond perdu Into our bank,
If it be not filled or clogged up." In the Ught of
the Princess's letters we may hazard a guess that
the Duchess intended this sum to go towards her
daughter's separate establishment, little dreaming, of
course, that the separate establishment was but a
blind, and she really wanted the money to fly with
KOnigsmarck to some distant land.
Every thought and action of the Princess at this
time was directed to one end only — flight, whither,
when, and how she knew not. A hundred expedients
flitted through her brain only to be dismissed, for
one obstacle rendered them all impossible — lack of
money ; a prosaic reason to enter into the romance
of princely personages, but nevertheless a real one.
The Princess did not want much money, but some
she must have — enough to enable her to live in
decent independence. It seemed to her, that when
she had taken her flight to some far off country,
the Court of Hanover would be only too glad to
be rid of her, a divorce would inevitably follow, and

482 trbe !lLot>e of an tllncrowneb diueen
she would then be allowed to marry KOnigsmarck
and to spend the rest of her life quietly with him.
That she would have found either happiness or peace
may be doubted, but she was willing to take the
risk. She was willing to abandon her high position
and rank, the pomp and glitter of Courts, a brUliant
prospect of crowns and kingdoms, for obscurity,
dishonour, and comparative poverty. Whatever view
we may take of her ethical standard, we cannot doubt
the depth and sincerity of her one great love passion,
all the greater because of the unworthiness of the
man for whom she counted it joy to sacrifice all she
had in the world.
KOnigsmarck, in his letters and Interviews, now as
before, was constantly inciting the Princess to revolt,
and his alternate temptations and reproaches drove
her nearly beside herself. In truth KOnigsmarck was
himself in a tight place. Even Marshal PodevUs, his
staunchest friend, turned against him ; and when he
remonstrated with the Field-marshal about his lack
of promotion and threatened to quit the Hanoverian
service, Podevils curdy replied that he would put
no obstacle In his way. Undoubtedly the most
dignified course for KOnigsmarck to have taken would
have been to have acted on this hint and have resigned
his commission in a service where he was so un
welcome. At this juncture the Countess Platen, who knew
how hard pressed he was, but who retained a
liking for him, sought anew to tempt him from
his allegiance to the Princess, and with shameless

trbe (Batbering Storm 483
effrontery offered him her daughter in marriage,
promising him in return the favour of the Elector,
rapid promotion in the army, and her powerful
support. She knew full well that his embarrassments,
though acute just now, were only temporary, and
thus she would not only secure an eligible parti
for her daughter, but would win him over to her
own interests.
To his credit, be it said, KOnigsmarck resisted
the temptress, and rejected her offer with scorn and
indignation. He went so far as to remind the
Countess Platen that there were certain reasons why
he should not marry her daughter.^ These scruples
the Countess Platen neither understood nor sym
pathised with ; indeed, she strongly resented them,
and she and KOnigsmarck parted In bitter anger.
"A slighted woman knows no bounds," and she
soon made her quondam lover feel the weight
of her displeasure. A rumour ran round the Court
that KOnigsmarck would be arrested on the ground
• This lady, Charlotte Sophia, the young Countess Platen referred
to once or twice in the correspondence, was said to be the daughter
of Countess Platen by the Elector of Hanover. She married, later,
Baron Kielmansegge, Master of the Horse. On the death of
her husband, George I. raised her to the rank of Countess of
Darlington, and lodged her in St. James' Palace. It was generally
supposed that she was his mistress. Her "niece," Charlotte, was
married to Lord Howe, but people said she was the illegitimate
daughter of the Countess of Darlington by George I. " The King,"
says Walpole, "was indisputably her father, and the first child born
of this union was named George, after the King." But it may not
have been true, since Lady Darlington was probably his half-sister.
But it is impossible to say, for in the confused state of morals at this
period no wonder that relationships occasionally became mixed.

484 trbe l-ove of an tllncrowneb diueen
that he had not paid his gambling debts in Flanders
and thereby brought discredit to the Hanoverian
army. At this moment, just when KOnigsmarck's affairs
were at their blackest, a door of escape was opened
to him by the sudden accession of his friend Duke
Frederick Augustus to the Electorate of Saxony.
Duke Frederick Augustus succeeded his brother, the
Elector George Frederick, whose death was sudden and
tragic. The young Elector George, who was weak and
dissolute, was entirely under the sway of a beautiful
brunette of twenty, whom he created the Countess
von ROohlitz. During her brief reign the favourite
ruled Dresden with a rod of Iron, and drove the
Electress from the Court. Early in AprU, 1694,
she died suddenly of small-pox, and the Elector,
who would not leave her bedside, caught the feU
disease and died eleven days later. Stepney, the
English envoy at Dresden, thus writes in his quaint
way :
" The revolution we have had here Is so sudden
and so extraordinary and so surprising that I know
of no romance or tragedy to compare to it except
All for Love, A virtuous Electrice has been slighted
like Octavia, yet supported her disgrace with a patience
and constancy equall to y* Roman Ladyes, An
Elector has revelled in pleasures with an Imperious
Mistress (who pretended to be a wife), and defyed
y° open Scandall of Adultery and double Marriage ;
till y" Scene changed, and y* fond Pair were carried
off y' Stage one after y'= other (like Anthony and

AUGUSTUS THE STRONG AND THE KING OF PRUSSIA.

[To face p. 484.

trbe Oatbering Storm 485
Cleopatra) in less than a month. Our Saxon-Lady
was dressed up in as much State after her death as
y" Egyptian Queen was before she applyed y^ Aspicks,
and was buryed in a Mausoleum where lay three
Princes of y= Electorali family, but has had little rest
there ; For y' rage of y^ new Government has rifled
her coffin of all her ornaments and has transported
y'= Corps naked to a churchyard where lye none
but Malefactors and those who dye of pestilential
distempers. The Mother for having had a handsome
daughter is prosecuted as a Witch ; as if Beauty
without Philters were not charm enough to make
a Prince of 26 Love passionately as y" Elector did,
and all famUies here who have either AUyances or
friendship with these poor Ladyes are either crushed
or shaken by the Fall, as is usuaU in mighty ruines." ^
Truly a revolution — transformation, rather ! Youth,
beauty, vice. Insolent in their power, and suddenly
King Death waves his wand and they are swept
from the stage and become as though they had
never been. What an opportunity for the moralist !
It may be feared, however, that the moral was lost
on the royal brother Augustus who succeeded thus
unexpectedly ; and so far as morals went the Court
of Dresden lost rather than gained by the exchange.
Augustus II., better known In history as Augustus
the Strong, the modern Sardanapalus, " the Saxon
man of sin," as Carlyle calls him, scandalised and
dazzled Europe for nigh on half a century with his
' Stepney's Despatches, Dresden, May ^, 1694, State Paper Office,
" Foreign Papers," Germany.

486 trbe %ox>c of an tllncrowneb diueen
vices. The Elector George was weak, the besotted
lover of one imperious mistress, who ruled him wholly.
The Elector Augustus was physically strong, and ruled
by nothing save his despotic will and his unbridled
lusts. The number of his mistresses bid fair to
rival those of Solomon, but no one of them ruled
him, for he devoted himself to none. " Constancy
is not in his nature," writes Stepney, " and he may be
called In y" Iiberall sense a father of his people, as
good King Charles was, for he is an impartial dis
tributor of his bounty, and while he is in y= humour,
the first woman y* offers Is sure of his caresses.'' ^
This was written in no spirit of exaggeration.
Augustus was " father of his people," indeed, for his
Court formed a seraglio, and when he died he had
no less than three hundred and fifty-foiar children
by his numerous mistresses. Yet there was a certain
splendour about the Saxon Elector. Like Augustus
of Rome, he found a city of brick and left a city of
marble. During his reign Dresden became one of
the most beautiful cities In Europe. He established
noble picture-galleries and museums full of objects of
art, metal work, armoury, precious stones, porcelain,
and glass. Great though were his vices, wanton
though his extravagances, his love of the fine arts
redeemed him from utter grossness. His reign indeed
recalled the declining days of Imperial Rome, when
the most exquisite polish and the grossest licentiousness
flourished side by side. Reckless, selfish, ambitious,
' Stepney's Despatches, Dresden, ^^'^, 1694.

trbe 6atbering Storm 487
luxurious, and despotic, the career of Augustus the
Strong affords few parallels since the days of the
Caesars. Such was the Prince whose sudden advent to power
was hailed by Konigsmarck as a means of deliverance
from his troubles. He had written of him long
ago to the Princess : " He is a good sort of prince ;
I wish he would become Elector." ^ His wishes were
now gratified, and on receipt of the news he posted
off to Dresden without delay.
The truth of the famiUar Scripture, " Put not
your trust in princes," must surely have been proved
by KOnigsmarck more than once in his adventurous
career. Yet there were several reasons why he should
be Inclined to put his trust in this particular prince :
they were old friends and boon companions ; they
had traveUed about Europe together in 1687 ; they
had fought together, drank together, and gambled
together during the campaign in Flanders in 1692,
when Duke Frederick Augustus levanted, leaving
behind him a pile of unpaid gambling debts, and
his boon companions cursing him, as well they
might. Of them KOnigsmarck was one of the
heaviest creditors, for the Saxon Prince owed him
no less than thirty thousand crowns. While he
was only Duke Frederick Augustus, with extravagant
habits and no power, to redeem the debt seemed
hopeless, but it was quite another thing now that he
had become Elector. So KOnigsmarck argued, and
the present state of his affairs lending him wings, he
' Letter of Kfinigsmarck to the Princess, vol. i., p. 325.
VOL. II, 10

488 trbe %ovc of an tllncrowneb diueen
set off for Dresden in almost indecent haste, lest
other claimants should be in the field before him.
He had interest, too, at his back, for without that
Interest his claim would have been little worth.
The new Elector Augustus had long been captivated
by Konigsmarck's beautiful sister Aurora, and though
up to this date she does not seem to have yielded to
his solicitations, yet undoubtedly she stood high in
his wayward favour.
Konigsmarck arrived at Dresden within a week of
the Elector George's death. Notwithstanding the
nature of his errand, which could hardly have been
quite agreeable to the new Elector, he was favourably
received, and his petition listened to very graciously.
Augustus had not forgotten — not at aU ; he never
forgot a debt of honour, but it was a little in
convenient for him just then to find so much ready
money. He was barely settled on his Electoral
throne, and heavy expenses consequent on funeral
rites and coronation festivities had to be borne ;
but he would give Konigsmarck the post of major-
general in the Saxon army in payment of the
debt. This was hardly what KOnigsmarck expected
or desired: his wish was a large sum of ready
money. But the offer was better than nothing ; the
post was one of dignity, the pay was large, and
the rank and perquisites considerable. The favour
of the Elector was an earnest of better things to
come (which indeed were hinted at), so he accepted
it with all the grace he could.
It Is not easy to see how Konigsmarck could have

trbe (Batbering Storm 489
accepted this post as major-general in the Saxon army,
as he undoubtedly did, consistently with the fact that
he held at the same time the post of colonel in
the Hanoverian army^ and with his promise to the
Princess to fly with her at the first opportunity to
some far off corner of the world. But perhaps In
this, too, he looked to the favour of the Elector,
KOnigsmarck's business having been settled, his
thoughts Ughdy turned to pleasure, and the Court of
Dresden afforded ample opportunities. Augustus the
Strong did not greatly mourn his departed brother,
who indeed left few to mourn him ; and after he had
gratified his love of display by giving him a gorgeous
funeral, he turned his attention to the ceremonies and
festivities of his own coronation, and he found time
to inaugurate the round of revelry, feasts, and enter
tainments which lasted throughout his reign. To
these entertainments KOnigsmarck was bidden as a
welcome guest, and the new major-general proved
his mettle, as was meet for one so distinguished in
love and war and so celebrated in his adventures.
Nor was he merely a welcome guest at the table
of the Elector. From the English envoy's (Stepney's)
correspondence at this period It appears that he was
well received in Dresden as the favoured guest of
many nobles, and he himself entertained him, as he
' Many chroniclers have puzzled their heads to reconcile these
two facts, but the question is absolutely set at rest by the despatches
of Stepney, which are now published for the first time in this book.
They will be quoted later, and show quite clearly that Konigsmarck
was major-general in the Saxon army at the same time that he was
a colonel in the Hanoverian service.

490 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb diueen
" had known him in England, Hamburg, Flanders and
elsewhere." True he states that he had " no great
opinion of y* sparke," but that was after his fall,
and no one has a great opinion of the fallen.
Feasting and riotous living seem hardly fitting for
a disconsolate lover such as Konigsmarck avowed
himself to be, whose one desire was to find some
" corner of the world " where he might live with
the object of his love, and forego all honour and
pleasure for her dear sake. But few men are quite
consistent, and KOnigsmarck was not among them.
WhUe the Princess was eating her heart out in the
palace at Hanover, weeping and wailing, quarrelling
with her husband, importuning her parents, moving
Heaven and earth to advance her pet scheme,
KOnigsmarck was revelling in the wanton haUs of
Augustus the Strong. It is a sad fact, but there Is
no denying it, for this Is a true history. His conduct
was far from that of an ideal lover. If he had kept
to eating and drinking and high play. It would have
mattered little, but unfortunately the wine-cup loosens
the tongue, and the brilliant KOnigsmarck, known
to all Europe for his wit and amours, must needs
maintain his reputation at Dresden by boasting of
his conquests at the Court of Hanover. Nothing
interested the different Courts of Germany so much
as the vices and scandals of their neighbours, and
the Court of Hanover afforded a rare opportunity.
KOnigsmarck was more than ready to gratify their
curiosity about it. Countess Platen, Madame Weyke,
Madame Podevils, Fraulein Schulenburg, the Elector

trbe Gatbering Storm 491
and the Electoral Prince all furnished matter for
sundry spicy tales. Countess Platen most of aU. How
Countess Platen bathed in milk and then gave it away
as a dole to the poor of Hanover, how she painted her
face, how she domineered over the Elector, and how
she made overtures to KOnigsmarck, offering him her
daughter, and his reasons for refusing — all this and
much more he babbled in his cups, and all was duly
reported and exaggerated. If exaggeration were possible,
to the Court of Hanover by Informers at Dresden.
The rage of Countess Platen and the other ladies
may be better imagined than described. Whether
KOnigsmarck went further, as his enemies alleged,
and to his lasting dishonour boasted of his intrigue
with the Electoral Princess, there exists no evidence to
show. From Stepney's despatches it would appear that
he did not, for that worthy later mentions the Princess's
name in connexion with KOnigsmarck with surprise.
On the other hand, it must be remembered that the
same charge had been brought against KOnigsmarck
before, and he had denied it so far as the Princess was
concerned, though he admitted It in the case of
Countess Platen and others. His denial counts for
little, for he was probably too much Intoxicated to
remember what he said and what he did not say. We
must not judge him too harshly for his free drinking,
for it was in those days the custom of Courts, and
there was never a festive gathering but that the
majority became more or less intoxicated. But the fact
that he was a wine-bibber undoubtedly detracts from
the value of his denial. Be this as It may, there is

492 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb diueen
no doubt whatever that KOnigsmarck's gossip at
Dresden was repeated at Hanover to the people about
whom he talked, and they were incensed beyond
measure. This did not only apply to Countess Platen
and the Elector Ernest Augustus, but to Fraulein
Schulenburg and the Electoral Prince, Ermengarda
Melusina Schulenburg, to her credit be it said, never
mixed herself up in Court quarrels, nor sought to
thrust herself upon the Electoral Princess ; she was
of a peaceable disposition, and this no doubt was the
secret of her lasting hold on George's affections. But
even Ermengarda Melusina had her foibles ; she was
avaricious (perhaps wisely so, for she knew that the
favour of princes was fickle), and she was not without
her share of vanity. To hear that her grasping
propensities had been publicly derided and her charms
decried at the Court of Dresden by that loose fish
Konigsmarck was more than she could bear, and her
tears of rage and vexation made the Electoral Prince
more bitter towards his wife's lover and more incensed
with his wife. So altogether KOnigsmarck had a
pretty tempest brewing against his return to Hanover.
Meantime the unhappy Princess, railing more
than ever against her Hanoverian surroundings, was
counting the days for her lover's return in her dull
apartments in the old Leine Schloss, and seeking a
pretext which would serve to carry out her scheme
of separation from her husband. It was not long In
coming. The sullen and silent Electoral Prince as a
rule avoided meeting his consort save In public ; but
one day, provoked by the tears of Schulenburg and

trbe (Batbering Storm 493
the tales from Dresden, he burst into Sophie Dorothea's
apartments without ceremony, and upbraided her
coarsely for her favours to KOnigsmarck, telling her
that she was the byword of the Saxon Court. The
Princess, who hated her husband with a loathing which
passes words to describe, was not slow to defend
herself Her ancient grievance against Schulenburg
lent a barbed tip to her tongue, and with passion she
retorted that It was not she, but her husband and his
scarecrow mistress who were the laughing stock of the
Courts of Europe. She went on to say that the one
thing she desired was a divorce, to which the Prince
retorted that he would be only too glad to grant It
to her, and would enter into any plan to bring it about.
Bitter recriminations followed, and the quarrel grew
fiercer, until at last, goaded beyond control by some
taunt levelled at his mistress, George Louis sprang at
his wife, and, seizing her by the throat, threatened
to strangle her. The shrieks of the Princess brought
Knesebeck and other attendants rushing Into the
chamber, and then the Prince relaxed his hold on his
half-fainting wife, and threw her from him, crying
with an oath that he would never see her again. As
soon as she recovered, the Princess, still smarting
under this brutal insult, without asking leave of the
Elector, as she ought to have done, set out for
Celle immediately, announcing, to all who cared to
listen, her intention of seeking her parents' protection
and of never returning to Hanover. So far as her
husband was concerned she declared that the breach
was irreparable, as Indeed it proved to be.

494 trbe %ovt of an tancrowneb diueen
Travelling nearly all night, the Princess arrived at
Celle early in the morning and threw herself at
her astonished parents' feet. To them she told her
pitiful story, pointing to the marks of violence which
she bore on her body and entreating their aid and
shelter. The Duchess of Celle, who loved her
daughter beyond all things, took her part warmly, and
declared that nothing shoidd part them again ; but the
Duke, influenced by Bernstorff, refused to listen to his
daughter, rebuked her for her insubordination, and
bade her roughly to return to Hanover and her duty.
He had no sympathy with her grievance against
Schulenburg, and he bade her take as an example of
wifely duty her excellent mother-in-law, the Electress
Sophia, who never raised difficulties of this kind.
No doubt he thought the graceless KOnigsmarck was
at the bottom of It all. In truth, the Duke of Celle
could III afford a rupture with Hanover just then.
His brother had stood by him bravely throughout the
war with the Danes, which was far more his quarrel
than the Elector's. The danger was not yet over, for
the Danes were stIU threatening to invade his territory,
and their demands for indemnity had reduced his
exchequer to its lowest ebb. Thus there were reasons
of State as well as of domestic policy for his insisting
on his daughter's return, and if he could have
had his way he would have packed her back to
Hanover the same day. But a man, even though he
be a duke and a father, is apt to reckon without his
host where women are concerned, for, finding tears
and prayers unavailing, Sophie Dorothea promptly

trbe (Batbering Storm 495
relapsed into violent hysterics. Her mother declared
her quite unfit to travel, and In this opinion she was
duly seconded by the Court physician, who feared the
strain on the Princess's reason.
There Is little doubt that Sophie Dorothea was
reaUy ill — worn out by anxiety and grief; and this,
added to her husband's brutality, and her father's
repulse, reduced her to a state of nervous prostra
tion from which she took some weeks to recover.
The old Duke, who really loved his daughter
after his fashion, though incensed at her conduct
(and It must be admitted she was a troublesome
daughter), was moved by her Illness and distress,
and, when he had posted a despatch to Hanover
he gave her leave to remain with her mother for
a time, premising that she must return to Hanover
and her duty as soon as she was able to travel.
He could grant her this favour the more easily,
as the Elector and Electress were setting out for
Wiesbaden for a cure, and the Court would be away
from Hanover for the time being. So Sophie
Dorothea stayed on with her mother at Celle In
absolute retirement, seeing no one, her health being
still delicate, and when the Court moved to Brock
hausen she went there too with her parents.^ When
ever she had an opportunity she renewed her entreaties
to her father to give her a separate establishment, but
he sternly refused.
Smarting under her disappointment, the Princess
wrote the letters to her lover, complaining bitterly
' Cresset's Despatches, Celle.

496 trbe %ovc of an tllncrowneb diueen
of her father's harshness, which afterwards told so
heavily against her, and alienated the only powerful
friend she had in the world.
The Princess went to Celle at the end of April, soon
after KOnigsmarck's departure for Dresden ; she re
mained there and at Brockhausen all through May, and
it was not until the middle of June that the Duke
of Celle Insisted on sending her back to Hanover.
The Elector and Electress had now returned from
Wiesbaden, and had signified their wUlingness to
welcome back their errant daughter-in-law ; more
over, the Electoral Prince, who had incurred his share
of blame for bringing about this family scandal, had
gone to Berlin on a visit to his sister, the Electress of
Brandenburg. It was thought advisable that he should
absent himself for a time from his wife, and mean
while the parents hoped to patch up again the outward
semblance of a reconciliation between the iU-mated
pair, as they had often done before. The Princess
would therefore not have to face the ordeal of meeting
her husband immediately on her return to Hanover,
and as she was now better, the Duke of Celle insisted
that she should go back, as her absence for so long a
time was creating a scandal. In vain the Princess
wept and prayed. The Duke, prompted by Bernstorff,
bade her roughly go back to her duty. It is possible
that had he temporised, or held out hope of granting
her request, the catastrophe which afterwards wrecked
the happiness of his daughter might have been averted.
But the Duke was nothing of a diplomatist ; he was
simply a headstrong old man, and unfortunately the

trbe (Batbering Storm 497
Princess had inherited from him a similar tempera
ment. Thus, driven to bay, she lost her temper and
threatened desperate courses. Words passed between
her and her father which were never forgotten nor
quite forgiven. In vain the Duchess of Celle tried
to make peace, but between two such headstrong
natures her words were only oil to the flames. There
was nothing for the Princess to do but to return to the
place she had left two months before vowing she would
never see It again. This meant the triumph of the
Platen faction and the public humiUation of the
Princess. To her proud spirit It was worse than death.
Thus thrust from her father's gates, Sophie Dorothea
set out on her return journey, her heart full of
anger and revolt. A message had been sent to Celle
that the Elector and Electress would be happy to
receive her at Herrenhausen, where they were now
staying. The road from Celle ran past the gates of
Herrenhausen, which was situated about a mile from
Hanover. It was expected and required by the rigid
etiquette of German Courts that the Princess on her
return should call and pay her respects to the head
of the family (appearances must be kept up at all
hazard) ; and, advised from Celle of the day and
hour she would return, the Elector and Electress
and their Court assembled to receive her with due
formality. The courtiers, who knew all the circum
stances of the case, were on the tiptoe of expectation
to see how the Princess would demean herself.
Countess Platen, more eager than the rest, and
anxious to triumph, over her fallen foe, craned her

498 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
head out of the window to see if the Princess were
coming, just as she and her sister, Madame Weyke,
had done once before, when Sophie Dorothea made
her first entry into Hanover as a bride on the
occasion of her ill-omened marriage. The Princess's
carriage was heard approaching, the outriders were
already visible, the gates of Herrenhausen were
thrown open, when to every one's astonishment the
Princess leant forward and, without stopping the
carriage, bade the coachman drive as fast as he could
past Herrenhausen into Hanover.
The astonishment of the courtiers, and the Indigna
tion of the Elector and Electress at seeing themselves
thus publicly flouted, knew no bounds. One must
understand the rigidity of German Court etiquette
at that period to appreciate the enormity of the
Princess's offence ; it was not merely an act of
discourtesy, but one of revolt. It is impossible not to
sympathise with the spirit which dictated this act, for
even if there had been no other reason, the presence
of Countess Platen was sufficient to justify it.
Arrived at Hanover, the Princess went at once
to her apartments in the Leine Schloss, and there,
attended only by the faithful Knesebeck, who followed
her mistress still, albeit with fear and trembling, she
gave out that she was ill, and steadily refused to see
any one. Her conduct was at once reported to CeUe,
and those in authority were at a loss to know what
to do. The situation was one which certainly could
not be maintained for long, and the excuse that the
Princess made was seized upon to deceive the world,

trbe (Batbering Storm 499
and a polite fiction was circulated to the effect that the
Princess's health had broken down during the journey
to Hanover, and she would shortly return and join her
parents at Wienhausen. We cannot but admire the
decorum with which these German princes tried to
hush up their family scandals. IU the Princess un
doubtedly was, but it was an illness of the mind
rather than of the body. She was sick unto death
of Hanover and its surroundings, and, all the time
when she was refusing to see any one, she was
maturing a desperate plan of flight.

CHAPTER XXIII
THE MURDER OF KONIGSMARCK
How do men die? But I, so trapped alive —
O, I shall die a dog's death, and no man's. Swinburne.
A DAY or two after the Princess returned to
Hanover KOnigsmarck came back from Dresden.
He had been kept informed 'of her movements, and,
as her affairs grew more desperate, the question of
flight was freely discussed in their letters. KOnigs
marck at first advised the Princess to fly to France,
change her religion, and throw herself on the protec
tion of the French King. France was her mother's
country, and the Duchess of Celle was known to
be friendly towards France, and even suspected of
leaning to Popery. The Princess, too, through Balati,
the French envoy, had exchanged compliments with
Louis XIV., and had distinctly favoured the French
party in opposition to her husband, who always up
held William and the Alliance. In the days gone
by, when the Duchess of Celle and her daughter
were supposed to have some influence, they had
received many valuable jewels from the French King.
A change of religion would effectually exclude the
soo

trbe /IBurber of IRonigsmarcft 501
Princess from the Court of Hanover, now deeply
pledged on the Protestant side, and constitute a claim
on the munificence of Louis, who liberaUy pensioned
distinguished converts, such as, for instance, the late
Duke John Frederick of Hanover and King James
of England. There was no reason why he should
not pension the Princess as well, as she would
certainly be a thorn in the side of his adversaries.
KOnigsmarck, too, was favourably known at the
Court of Versailles, and were he to enter the French
service he might hope for promotion and a career with
honour. Undoubtedly there was a good deal to be said
in favour of the Princess's flight to France, but
there was also much against It. Such a step would
cut off Sophie Dorothea irrevocably from the House
of Brunswick-Liineburg — not only from Hanover,
which she ardently desired, but from Celle, which
she did not desire, and from all future favours from
her father. The Duke of Celle all his life long
had been the stoutest opponent of France, and for
his daughter to go over to his enemies would be
unpardonable treason ; it would mean disinheritance
without hope of reinstatement. The Princess, too,
though not a deeply religious woman, was attached
to the faith in which she had been brought up,
and had no wish to change it, and without a change
of religion there was no hope for her In France.
Moreover, Elizabeth Charlotte, the Duchess d'Orleans,
who was the devoted niece and correspondent of the
Electress Sophia, occupied a prominent position at

502 trbe %ovc of an tancrowneb diueen
the French Court. She hated the Duchess of Celle
and the Electoral Princess, and would undoubtedly do
everything in her power to make things unpleasant
for Sophie Dorothea. Lastly, and this obstacle was
insuperable, the Princess had not enough money to
fly to France and to maintain herself there for any
time ; it was a long way, and she ran considerable
risk of being overtaken. So she dismissed the French
plan, and turned her thoughts to one far more
practicable — flight to Wolfenbuttel.
Here the ground was well prepared. Knesebeck
had a married sister in Brunswick, one Frau von
Maitsch, to whom many letters were sent at this
time, and who doubtless acted as an agent between
the Princess and Duke Antony Ulrich. The
strained relations between the Princess and the
Electoral Court were well known to Antony Ulrich.
She was his cousin ; he had known her from child
hood ; she was nearly being allied to his house
by the closest ties, and he was her mother's earliest
friend. In this, her hour of trial, he communicated
to her his sympathy and assured her of his support,
more especially as he saw in these family dissensions
something which might be turned to his advantage
and could not fail to humiliate the Elector. The
union of Hanover and Celle had been a hard blow
to him, and anything which tended to disunion
was in his favour.
Finding every other means of escape from a position
which had become intolerable cut off, the Princess
resolved to fly to Wolfenbuttel, and place herself

trbe /IDurber of "Konigsmarcft 503
under the protection of her cousin and old friend.
The journey was short and Inexpensive, and her
escape from Hanover to Wolfenbuttel would not be
as irrevocable as flight to France ; it would not involve
a change of religion, or make an unbridgeable gulf
between herself and her father, for Wolfenbiittel's
quarrel was not so much with Celle as with Hanover.
Once there, Duke Antony Ulrich would be sure to
plead in her favour, and would certainly not give her
up to the tender mercies of the Hanoverian Court.
It would be better for Konigsmarck too, for
Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel was allied with Denmark
and Sweden, and Konigsmarck, a Swedish subject,
had only to throw in his lot with his King to be
received back into favour. Of course, from the
point of view of the Hanoverian government,
the Princess's flight to Wolfenbuttel would be a
treason even worse than flight to France, for all
relations between the two Courts had long since
been broken off and Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel was a
declared enemy of the Electoral House. Putting
KOnigsmarck out of the question altogether, the
Princess's policy was unpardonable In the eyes of the
Hanoverian government: she first revolted and then
plotted treason.
Unfortunately for the best interests of the Princess,
KOnigsmarck was a factor In the situation. He had
come back to Hanover almost simultaneously with
the Princess, — an audacious act In itself, for he was
in disgrace at Court on account of her. Ostensibly
he had returned to attend to some necessary business ;
VOL. n. II

S04 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
in reality he came back for the one and only
purpose of aiding the Princess in her flight to
Wolfenbiittel. He stiU held the post of colonel
in the Hanoverian Guards, and it was necessary that
he should resign It formaUy, since he had accepted
a commission In the Saxon service. But, during the
few days which elapsed between his return to Hanover
and July i, he took no steps to resign his commission,
nor did he show himself in public. He went straight
to his house and lived there in retirement, occupying
himself mainly with arranging his affairs and sorting
his papers. The Princess was also in retirement in
her apartments at the Palace, stiU insubordinate, and
refusing to see any one on the plea of illness. She,
too, was very busy in much the same way. Com
munications passed between the lovers during these few
days, but they were not able to arrange a meeting.
The situation was dangerous, far more so than they
seemed to realise. It is true that they knew they
were watched, but they hoped to evade the spies as
they had often done before. But then it had been
convenient for their enemies to turn a blind eye to
the intrigue ; now they were on the alert. Every
movement was observed and reported to headquarters.
Konigsmarck was watched day and night, the Princess
also ; and had they reflected they must have seen
the danger they were running. The imprudence and
recklessness of their proceedings seem almost In
credible ; they rushed right on to their doom. As
the Princess had settled on flight, it would have
been wise for her to have dissembled a litde ; but

trbe /iDurber of 'ftdnigsmarcft 505
she and Konigsmarck provoked suspicion — she by
her rebeUion and threats of desperate proceedings, and
he by returning to Hanover. There was really no
need for him to have come back at all. He could
have met the Princess at Wolfenbiittel, and she could
have traveUed there alone almost as easUy as she made
the journey to Celle. But despite every warning and
the dictates of common prudence, Konigsmarck came
back into the very hands of his enemies, who were
only seeking an opportunity to destroy him.
The opportunity was not long in coming.
On the evening of Sunday, July i, 1694, KOnigs
marck received a note from the Princess, written in
a feigned hand,^ asking him to come to her that night
without fail, and appointing the hour and mentioning
the signal. In obedience to this summons, long
expected, the same night, between ten and eleven
o'clock, he stole out of his house and made his way
towards the Leine Schloss. It afterwards transpired
that his servants noticed him leave the house ; they
had also observed during the day that he was restless
and disturbed. But he thought he was unobserved,
and, as usual on the occasions of these stolen meetings
' The Princess asserted later that this note was not hers at all ;
it was a forgery written by the Countess Platen as a snare, and
she was greatly surprised when Konigsmarck appeared and showed
her the note. She gave it back to him saying that she had not written
it. Knesebeck, on the other hand, in her statement asserts that the
Princess had appointed to meet Konigsmarck. It is therefore im
possible to credit the poor Princess's denial, which was natural
enough under the circumstances, but cannot be believed. If she had
not expected KOnigsmarck, how came he to be admitted to her chamber
at that hour of the night ?

so6 trbe tiLove of an tancrowneb diueen
with the Princess, he adopted what was practically a
disguise. He wore a pair of shabby old summer
trousers, a much-worn white jacket, very short, and a
brown cloak. There is a conflict of testimony as to
whether he was armed or unarmed ; but the burden
of the evidence goes to prove that he was girt with
a short sword, which was part of the ordinary equip
ment, but for practical purposes he was unarmed.
Why should he be armed ? He had had many stolen
interviews with the Princess before, and had come to
no hurt.
Arrived at the Leine Schloss, KOnigsmarck went
round to the wing where the Princess's apartments
were situated and gave the signal, whistling [probably]
a few bars of a well-known air. The signal was repUed
to [probably] by a light in the window, and a minute
later he was admitted through the postern by Knesebeck
and conducted to the Princess's chamber. Here La
Confidente withdrew and the lovers were left alone.
They had not seen one another for more than three
months, and now met under the shadow of great
peril. We may imagine their meeting — the Princess's
tearful reproaches anent her lover's conduct at
Dresden, his fervent denials, and her sweet forgive
ness ; the tears, the vows, and the broken words.
But they had other things before them than loving
words and rapturous embraces ; the time was short
and there was much to say and much to do con
cerning the flight they had planned for the morrow.
Both were agreed that the situation was intolerable,
and could last no longer ; both were ready to make

trbe /iDurber of Ikonigsmarck 507
the fatal plunge and brave the consequences. There
could hardly be a more favourable time than the
present, so it seemed to them: the Electoral Prince
was at Berlin, the Electress at Herrenhausen ; there
was no one of all the Hanoverian Royal Family In
Hanover but the old Elector, weak and ailing, in
a far off wing of the palace ; time and circumstances
alike were favourable for flight.
But they had forgotten one whose hatred, like
her vengeance, never slumbered. Countess Platen,
enraged against KOnigsmarck by his scandalous gossip
about her at Dresden, had lost for the time the
tendresse for him which had hitherto held her back
from extreme measures. The Princess she detested
and despised, and would have killed her rather than
see her triumphant In KOnigsmarck's affections.
The return of KOnigsmarck from Dresden, combined
with the Princess's sudden revolt against aU authority,
made her suspicious that something unusual was
going on, and for the last week she had doubled her
spies, and every movement of both had been reported
to her. No sooner, therefore, had KOnigsmarck let
himself out of his house that night and stolen away
disguised under cover of the darkness, than he was
tracked to the palace and seen to enter the Princess's
apartments. The quarry was run to earth at last.
Information was at once given to Countess Platen,
who In hot haste, regardless alike of the hour and
place, repaired to the Elector's apartments, and told
him, with much agitation and many gestures, that
Konigsmarck was even now in the chamber of the

s°8 trbe 3Lov)e of an tancrowneb diueen
Electoral Princess, and she besought him to take
immediate steps to arrest and punish the offenders.
The picture of Countess Platen posing as a champion
of outraged virtue might have afforded the cynical old
Elector some amusement under other circumstances, but
this came too near home. Though of easy morality,
and by no means inclined to be hard on offences of
this nature, the audacity of KOnigsmarck enraged
him beyond measure. He was already angry with
the Princess because she had flouted his authority,
and he determined to make her feel the weight of
it now. When he had relieved his feelings by a
few round oaths, he declared his resolve of going in
person to the Princess's chamber and surprising the
lovers ; but Countess Platen threw herself in his way
and entreated him not to go. It would certainly, she
pleaded, lead to disturbance, and probably result in a
public scandal. The great thing was to keep an affair
of this kind from being known, and if His Highness
woiUd leave the matter to her, she would find a way
to arrest KOnigsmarck quietly, and then the Elector
might punish the delinquents at his leisure, and
far more effectually. The first burst of his rage
being over, the easy-going Elector gave way. He
hated scenes and he hated trouble, and so he agreed
to shift the disagreeable task upon the Countess, who
was only too ready to undertake It, At her sugges
tion he signed a warrant to the Commandant of the
palace guard, authorising him to give the Countess
Platen four halberdiers, who were to accompany her
and obey her in all things without question. That

trbe /Durbec of Uonigsmarcft 509
the Elector had nothing more in his mind than the
arrest of KOnigsmarck is evident from the fact that
he said to the Countess, with a touch of malice, he
was sure his Colonel of the Guards was safe in her
hands, as he was so good-looking.
Armed with the Elector's sign-manual, the Countess
went down to the guard-room and obtained four
trusty halberdiers. After she had given them drink
and sworn them to secrecy, she led the way through
the dark corridors of the great rambling palace to
the wing occupied by the Electoral Princess.
The Leine Schloss, or Royal Palace of Hanover,
has been considerably altered since that fatal night ;
but the walls are stiU standing, and It is easy, even
now, to foUow the original plan of the castle. The
Electoral Princess occupied a suite of rooms over
looking the River Leine, then spanned by a draw
bridge, now by a permanent way. A wide corridor
ran from her apartments, which still remains. This
corridor touches at one end a magnificent hall, known
as the Rittersaal, or Knights' HaU, and there was
also a vestibule, or inner hall, hard by.
By the door of the Rittersaal the Countess paused,
and peered down the long corridor leading to the
Princess's apartments. There was no sound to be heard,
but a faint glimmer of light beneath the door showed
her that the Princess was still astir. The thought
that Konigsmarck was at this moment In her hated
rival's arms excited Countess Platen beyond control.
She turned to the four desperadoes, and ordered them
to lie in ambush and await her signal, and then rush

SIO trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
out and take the first man who passed, at all hazards,
dead or alive. The halberdiers concealed themselves
under the shadow of the huge projecting chimneyplece
of the Rittersaal.^ The Countess withdrew to the
vestibule hard by, and there waited for her prey.
She had some time to wait, for the lovers, unconscious
of danger, had so much to say that the hours flew by
unheeded, and still they were absorbed In one another.
They discussed every detail of the escape on the
morrow, and re-discussed .every precaution against
discovery. They would have talked till dawn had
not Eleonore Knesebeck interrupted them and caUed
attention to the fact that it was high time to
put an end to the conversation. Still the lovers,
perchance with a presentiment of the coming peril,
were loth to part, until at length Knesebeck almost
forced KOnigsmarck out of the chamber. With a
last fond embrace he bade the Princess farewell until
the morrow, bidding her be of good courage, for the
hour was at hand when they would part no more. Of
a truth it was their last parting.
La Confidente conducted KOnigsmarck to the outer
door of the Princess's apartments, and there left him.
There was no light, but he knew his way so well
that he could find it in the dark, so he walked softly
down the long corridor, humming a tune under his
' I visited the scene of the murder in 1898. This chimneypiece still
remains, elaborately carved and wrought, a splendid monument of
masonry. The Rittersaal, too, has little changed, except that it
was re-decorated in the early part of this century. The long corridor
has been laid down with parquet, but the attendants show the spot
where the murder was committed.

trbe /iDurber of IRonigsmarcft 51 1
breath. It was characteristic of the man and his
careless, dare-devil spirit that he treated the affair
so lightly. He was embarked on a venture which
would revolutionise his whole future life, which
would set every Court In Europe by the ears, and
mvolved the happiness of the woman he loved ; yet
it all weighed so lightly with him that he left her
humming a tune. Yet elopement with an Electoral
Princess was a somewhat serious undertaking even
in those days.
A few steps brought KOnigsmarck to the door in
the left-hand corner of the corridor by which he had
been admitted, opposite the Rittersaal. The door had
purposely been left unbarred for his exit ; It was now
locked. The tune died on his lips, and he turned to
retrace his steps. At that moment the four desperadoes
sprang from their hiding-place and rushed upon him
with their weapons. The unfortunate man realised
that he was caught in a trap ; but, though taken
by surprise and comparatively unarmed, he defended
himself doughtily. For a few minutes there was
a fierce conflict, during which two of his adversaries
were wounded, and though KOnigsmarck was fight
ing in the dark against four armed men, the result
seemed uncertain untU his sword snapped in twain.
This placed him at the mercy of his assailants, and
he fell, severely wounded in the head by a cut from
a battle-axe, and run through the body by a sword.
Even as he fell his cry was, " Spare the Princess !
Spare the Innocent Princess ! " and then he swooned.
The men bound and dragged him, all bleeding

512 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
as he was, into the vestibule, where Countess Platen
awaited her victim. By the light of a feeble candle
she bent over him and peered fearfully into his face.
Things were worse than she had bargained for, and
at first it seemed that he was already dead. But no ;
he opened his eyes. At the sight of his enemy's
malignant face KOnigsmarck realised that he was a
victim of her hate, and he raUIed all his ebbing
strength to curse her bitterly for the foul thing she
was. His lips were shut by the foot of his murderess,
who, pretending to slip on his blood, trod by design
upon his mouth. Too weak to resent the outrage,
KOnigsmarck swooned once more. He recovered
consciousness again, only to protest with feeble tongue
and broken words the innocence of the Princess.
Then his head feU back, and he died with her name
on his lips.
At first Countess Platen reftised to believe that he
was dead, and made every effort to restore him to life,
pouring cordial down his throat, rubbing his hands,
and binding up his wounds ; but when she saw it was
too late her anxiety gave place to terror and perhaps
to remorse. She cherished a sort of tigress's passion
for the murdered man, though she would rather see
him dead at her feet, as he now was, than in the
arms of her rival. When she gave the word to
take him, dead or alive, she hardly contemplated
so literal an obedience to her orders, and she
bitterly upbraided the soldiers for their blunder and
excess of zeal. The assassins were no less frightened
than the Countess, when they realised that the

THE MURDER OF KONIGSMARCK.

[To face p. 512.

From an Old Print.

tibe ^urber of Ikonigsmarcft 513
murdered man was none other than the popular Count
KOnigsmarck. The Countess did not fail to take
advantage of their consternation by declaring that
the Elector would of a surety hang the lot of them,
if they did not swear the Count's death was due
wholly to his own desperate resistance. This they at
once vowed, and declared that In the darkness they
could not see what they were doing ; they acted
only on the defensive, and he rushed blindly upon
their weapons. The Countess rehearsed them carefully
in this story, and made them promise to testify the
same, separately and collectively, to the Elector.
The Countess then repaired to the Elector's apart
ments, and with many tears and much trepidation
told him of the fatal mishap, which she ascribed
wholly to KOnigsmarck's recklessness. The Elector
was aghast at what had occurred and greatly enraged
at the way the Countess had abused his authority. He
would have punished KOnigsmarck for his presumption
by arrest and ignominious dismissal from the Han
overian service, but he never contemplated his murder.
Cruelty and assassination were not among the vices
of Ernest Augustus, and throughout his reign no
deed of violence could be laid to his charge. More
over, he foresaw that by this wicked crime the very
thing he had most desired to avoid — publicity — would
be brought about, very painful family scandal would
be dragged before the world, and he could not
hope to escape the odium which was sure to accrue.
KOnigsmarck was known throughout Europe ; he
had many powerfvd friends at? the Courts of Saxony,

514 trbe Xo\)e of an tancrowneb diueen
Sweden, and Denmark, possibly England and France
too : some of these would certainly raise a storm when
they heard of the foul manner of his death. Ernest
Augustus in his old age did not care to burden his
conscience with a crime which would only bring harm
to him, and disrepute to his house. In fact, it was
worse than a crime ; it was a stupid blunder, which
when known would Involve the Electoral Court in
no end of difficulties. So the old Elector stormed and
raged at his favourite, cursing her In no measured
terms, and vowing he would never forgive her. She
was astounded at his fury. Never In all the long years
of her ascendancy had she seen him like this, and,
indeed, her influence over him was never the same
after that night. It was with much difficulty that
she contrived to bring the Elector to something like
reason. She pointed out the uselessness of mere
denunciations, bringing to bear the unanswerable
argument that the man was dead and nothing could
call him back to life.
Meanwhile the hours were slipping by and some
action must be taken unless KOnigsmarck's body were
to be left in the vestibule all night and discovered in
the morning. Countess Platen pointed out that the evil
consequences the Elector dreaded were dependent upon
the Count's death being known, and they might aU
be avoided if it were concealed. Why should it not
be concealed ? No one had seen him enter the palace
except her trusted spies, and no one had seen him
inside Its walls except herself, the halberdiers, the
Princess, and Knesebeck. For herself and the soldiers

trbe /iRurber of Tftdnigsmarcft s^s
she could answer, and there was an easy way of
stopping the mouths of the Princess and her waiting-
woman. The Elector listened, ever ready to avoid a diffi
culty, and presently intimated that, since she had got
him into the mess, she must get him out of it. This
the Countess expressed herself as ready and able to
do. The Elector then reluctantly accompanied her to
the room where the murdered man still lay, guarded
by his assassins. These men^ were sworn, under
penalty of death, not to disclose a word of their night's
work. KOnigsmarck's pockets were searched and the
contents handed over to the Elector. Then the corpse
was dragged to a hole, or treppe, hard by, thrust
down, covered with quicklime, and the place waUed up.
The blood-stains were carefully washed from the floor,
and every trace of the murder was obliterated. The
men must have worked very quickly and expeditiously.
No one in the sleeping palace was aroused, and
everything was completed before the morning light,
which, at that time of the year in Hanover, began
to dawn soon after three o'clock.
' Of these halberdiers little is known. One was named Bushmann,
and is said to have made a confession on his death-bed to a priest
named Cramer of his part in the murder. He is said to have been
so badly wounded in the struggle by Kdnigsmarck that he could
do nothing for six weeks, but the authority for this statement is
doubtful. Local tradition gives the name of another of these men
as Luders, who, from the date of the crime, became the owner of an
estate given him by the Hanoverian government. His descendants
until recently lived at Hanover, and may be living there still for
aught I know, and are well-to-do people. Some information of both
these men is given in Cramer's Aurora Kdnigsmarck.

si6 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
Thus perished miserably, with his body given the
sepulture of a dog, Philip Christopher, Count KOnigs
marck, the head of a noble and famous family, and one
of the most brilliant adventurers who strutted across
the stage of Europe in the seventeenth century.
It may truly be said of him that nothing In his
life became him so well as the way he quitted it.
He died bravely, fighting against overwhelming
odds, and he died gaUantly, defending with his last
breath the honour of the woman he loved. That he
loved the Princess, as far as it was in his nature to
love any one, must be admitted ; it was not the
highest kind of love, but a passion selfish In its
essence, to which men of his kind are prone, very
fierce while it lasted and very real, but probably
not enduring. He made great sacrifices for her sake,
refused honour, promotion, fame, all that men hold
dear ; so he must have loved her after his fashion.
That he was unworthy of the love she gave back
to him fourfold must be admitted also ; he was utterly
unworthy. Yet to judge him fairly we must judge
him by the standards of his time. These standards
were not high ones. He lived in an age of profligacy
and In Courts where laxity of manners and morals
were the order of the day, and he was lax and
profligate accordingly. But if he were no better he
was no worse than his compeers, and certainly does
not deserve the censure which has been heaped upon
him ; for, surrounded as he was by parasites and
flatterers, the marvel is not that he was so bad,
but that he was as good as he was. The worst

trbe /Bburber of Iftonigsmarcft 517
part of his conduct was his intrigue with Countess
Platen — conduct Impossible to palliate or excuse, and
which brought its own punishment. Otherwise he
had his own rough standard of honour, and as
far as we can see he acted up to his lights, which
certainly were not bright ones. He was a brave
soldier, fearless in the field ; he was open-handed,
generous to a fault, and those who knew him
best were greatly attached to him. His sisters
loved him, his servants were devoted to him, and
these things speak in his favour. Of him it may be
said his vices were those of his era, his virtues were
all his own. He did wrong, let us admit it, but he
paid the penalty with his blood.

CHAPTER XXIV
THE RUIN OF THE PRINCESS
What if my life be all undone,
And all things false below the sun,
Yet still I have been true to one —
Most passionately true !
Lady Arabella Romilly.
AFTER KOnigsmarck had left, the Princess passed
most of the night in packing up her jewels,
sorting and burning papers, and completing arrange
ments for her flight. It was arranged that, on receipt
of a note from KOnigsmarck In the morning, the Princess
and her lady-in-walting should steal disguised to some
quiet spot in the city, and thence escape in his coach,
which. It afterwards transpired, was under orders to
start for Dresden at a moment's notice. Outside
Hanover the order would have been reversed ; the
coachman would have been told to drive with all speed
to Wolfenbuttel, and once across the Hanoverian
frontier the fugitives would have been safe from
pursuit. During the night Knesebeck fancied that she heard
sounds, but thought nothing of them. KOnigsmarck
had promised to send the Princess word early in the
morning, but when the day wore on and nothing
Sl8

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 519
came she grew anxious, and her anxiety increased
when she learnt that he had not returned home and
his servants knew nothing of his whereabouts. His
absence did not trouble his servants, as the Count was
given to nocturnal adventures and often remained
away for days together. But it troubled the Princess
greatly, and she began to fear that some evU had
befallen him. Presently some one came into the ante
chamber with the rumour that KOnigsmarck had fought
a duel with Count LIppe, and had been run through
the body. Greatly alarmed, the Princess sent to
Marshal Podevils to find out if the report were true,
but the Marshal said that it was groundless and
Konigsmarck was doubtless safe and weU. Later,
when the Princess attempted to go out, she was
informed that it was the Elector's pleasure she should
not leave her apartments, and no reply was vouchsafed
to her remonstrance. Her children were in the habit
of coming to see her daily at a certain hour, but
this day they came not, and when she requested their
presence she was told that the Elector had given
orders they were not to be admitted, and the young
Prince George Augustus was dining with the Elector
alone. By this time the Princess had no doubt that she
was betrayed, and gave herself up to a passionate
agony of grief; while Knesebeck, though greatly
frightened also, vainly endeavoured to comfort her.
Great though the Princess's fear was, and great though
her perU, she gave little thought to her own danger ;
all her anxiety was for KOnigsmarck's safety. She was
VOL. II. 12

520 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
In the same plight as she had written to him long
ago : " I fear that we are betrayed. I am trembling
on the edge of a precipice, but my own danger Is
the least of my anxieties. I scarcely think of the
misfortunes inevitable and unavoidable If we are
discovered : you, only, occupy my thoughts." ^ Then
her terrors were Imaginary ; now they were real. At
the very moment of fruition aU her hopes were dashed
to the ground, and she saw before her nothing but
ruin and lifelong misery. To all her frenzied Inquiries
(and It was no use sending Knesebeck for further
information, as that lady had now been ordered not to
quit the Princess's chamber) she could elicit no reply ;
and the fact that she was a prisoner in her apartments
made her fear the worst. She passed the night In a
torment of anxiety.
Meantime the inquiries which Knesebeck had started
set KOnigsmarck's servants on the same track, and aU
sorts of rumours flew around Hanover. It was reported
that the previous night KOnigsmarck, surrounded by
a bright light, had been seen In the palace through
the windows, and a crowd assembled outside the
gates, to the manifest discomfort of the Elector, who
gave orders for them to be dispersed. So passed
Monday. The next day, Tuesday, July 3, Hilde-
brand, KOnigsmarck's secretary, went to Marshal
Podevils to get mformation, if possible, of his master's
fate, as there was now a report that he was imprisoned
In the palace. Podevils, who had always been a
good friend of the KOnigsmarck family, and who
^ Vide vol. i., p 274-5.

trbe IRuin of tbe i^rincess 5*1
must have suspected that there was foul play, never
theless stood loyally by his master, the Elector, and
said : " The Count will be found somewhere. There
is no use making a fuss. Tell the servants to keep
quiet." Up tlU now no rumour had reached Celle of the
catastrophe, for we find the English envoy. Cresset,
writing on this date : " The Electoral Prince Is
amusing himself In Berlin, and the Electoral Princess
is always 111 at Hanover." ^
The following day Hildebrand received a strong
hint to keep quiet, but nevertheless he dispatched a
trusty servant to Dresden to teU the Elector of
Saxony of his master's disappearance. Hardly had
he done so than the Elector of Hanover sent three
officials to search KOnigsmarck's rooms thoroughly,
and particularly his writing-table. Several papers were
seized, and the rooms and their contents were sealed
up with the official seal. The next day HUdebrand
wrote a guarded letter to KOnigsmarck's sisters at
Hamburg to tell them that their brother was missing,
and asking for directions as to what he was to
do with his effects. He added that he believed
the Count was still alive, and asked them to wait
eight days before demanding his restoration ; but so
frightened was he, lest the Hanoverian authorities
might intercept this letter, that he did not mention
that the Count's rooms had been searched and his
papers seized.
These same papers sealed the doom of the Princess.
' Cresset's Despatch, Celle, July 3, 1694.

S52 trbe %ovc of an tancrowneb diueen
They were taken to the Elector, who went through
them carefully with the Platens. They were found
to include many letters from Sophie Dorothea to her
lover from the beginning of the year, and especiaUy
during his absence at Dresden, detailing minutely
the story of her wrongs. They showed evidence of
an extended secret correspondence, but the letters
before January were missing. (They had passed into
the hands of Aurora, and were in her keeping ; they
are the letters published in this book.) But though
these could not be found, there remained more than
enough to reveal everything. The cypher was easily
made out, and though some of the Princess's letters
were written In a disguised hand, and some transcribed
by Knesebeck, this did not conceal anything, but only
served to Implicate the lady-in-waiting in the intrigue.
The letters contained convincing proofs of the
Princess's passion for Konigsmarck and of her hatred
of her husband and the House of Hanover. They
contained, too, many severe reflections on her father's
harshness, especially when he refused to grant her
a separate maintenance, — words written in the heat of
anger, and perhaps forgotten as soon as written, but the
writing remained. They afforded, also, full evidence
of her projected flight to Wolfenbiittel, in which
Frau von Maitsch and Knesebeck were implicated — an
act of treason in itself The old Elector was incensed
at these revelations ; and though he might have over
looked the intimacy with Konigsmarck, for he was not
hard on such weaknesses, he could not forgive the
intrigue with his arch-enemy of Wolfenbiittel. This

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 523
prejudiced him hopelessly against the Princess, and
made him harden his heart against any thought of
mercy. It was clear that not only the honour, but
the safety of his House demanded that the Princess
should be kept in durance vile.
The Electress Sophia, who had now been informed
of the course of events, had no word strong enough
to express her condemnation of the offender. She at
last saw a chance of ridding herself for ever of the
daughter of the d'Olbreuse, and she hailed it gladly.
There was no mercy in the heart of the Electress for
her erring daughter-in-law, nor would she hearken to
any plea of extenuating circumstances. Yet if she had
reflected she might have seen that it was she who
had helped to drive the unhappy woman to these
desperate steps. A little kindness, a little forbearance,
a word of advice at the right season might have
saved Sophie Dorothea : but no help ever came from
the Electress Sophia.
Meantime the Princess, half-crazed with fear and
suspense, implored to see the Elector and to know
whereof she was accused ; but no answer was returned
to her prayers. She wrote long letters to her
parents at CeUe, complaining bitterly of the indignities
to which she was subjected, and begging them to
come to her succour. But at Celle she had been
forestalled by Count Platen, who, on the discovery of
the secret correspondence, posted off to Duke George
WiUiam under orders of the Elector. Count Platen
laid bare to the Duke the whole miserable story, and
last, but not least, told him of the Princess's aspersions

524 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
upon her father. He showed him the Princess's
own letters to KOnigsmarck, especially those which
animadverted on her father's meanness and cruelty in
refusing her shelter from her enemies at Hanover.
The Duke of Celle was wounded to the quick when
he read these letters, and enraged beyond measure ;
his pride was hurt, too, by the dishonour done to
his House. His standard of morality was not a high
one, but he held that princesses of the House of
Brunswick-Liineburg should be above reproach, as in
the case of his own wife and the Electress Sophia.
The Electoral Prince's many infidelities formed to him
no excuse for his wife going astray. He argued that
however Immoral a man might be, he could not
possibly Introduce spurious offspring Into the family,
or affect the legitimacy of the succession. The old
Duke prided himself on being a blunt, straight
forward man, and he had a horror of Intrigue and
double-dealing. From every point of view it seemed
to him that his daughter's conduct was as bad as it
could be — a view in which Platen did not hesitate
to back him up.
With the Duchess of Celle it was different. How
ever culpable she might deem her daughter to be, she
would not forsake her in her desperate straits, for she
believed that the Prince was far more culpable than
she. The Duchess, too, refused to believe, however
imprudent her daughter might have been, that she
was actuaUy guilty with KOnigsmarck. She reminded
the Duke of how alone and unprotected his daughter
was, how surrounded by enemies, whose cruelty had

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 525
goaded her to these desperate steps. She urged that
her harsh expressions about her father were written
when she was beside herself, and therefore allowance
was to be made for them. Then, seeing he was still
obdurate, she threw herself at his feet, and with tears
and prayers besought him not to desert his only child
in her hour of trouble. But the Duke woidd hear no
reason. His wife had long since lost her influence over
him, and he cursed her, and her daughter, and the day
when he first brought her to his house, and drove her
from him with bitter words. The Duchess next went
to Bernstorff, who had ever shown himself her enemy,
and besought his aid In this terrible crisis, offering
him a large sum of money If he would work for the
interests of the Princess and do what he could to
mitigate the Duke's anger against her.
Bernstorff, already In the pay of Hanover, double
traitor that he was, did not reject the proffered bribe,
and hypocriticaUy promised the Duchess that he would
use his best exertions. It must have been a triumph
to his mean soul to see this proud and imperious
woman humbling herself before him as a suppliant.
He knew well her day was over, that the sun of her
power had set for ever : the ruin of the daughter
meant also, comparatively speaking, the ruin of the
mother. The Duchess Eleonore had indeed to drink
the cup of humUiation to the dregs. For years she
had planned and laboured until she had reached the
summit of her ambition, and now she was hurled from
It by the cruellest blow that Fate could have dealt
her. Yet her mother's heart beat true. She had no

526 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
reproaches for her erring daughter, only love ; and,
bitter though her fall was, it was not half so bitter as
her impotence to help.
Though the Duchess could do little, she did not
cease to Importune every one concerned — the Duke,
Bernstorff, and Platen — that the Princess should be
treated with leniency ; and especially she pleaded
against harsh and hasty judgment. Had it not
been for those unlucky letters she might have
succeeded, for the Duke's anger was not wont to
be long-lived ; but unfortunately they remained, and
bore damning evidence against the unhappy Princess.
Count Platen's mission to the Court of CeUe was
first to prejudice the Duke against his daughter and
then to take counsel with him as to what should be
done. There were grave issues at stake, and it was
important that whatever steps were taken should be
taken In concert between the two Courts. Things
had come to a desperate pass ; but it was resolved
not to abandon all efforts to bring about, not
a reconciliation, for that was Impossible, but an
arrangement which might obviate the necessity of
public scandal.
This task was very difficult, and was rendered
more so by the irreconcilable attitude of the
Princess. She was still ignorant of KOnigsmarck's
fate, but she refused positively to remain at
Hanover of her own free will. To keep her there
as a prisoner would give occasion for the enemy to
blaspheme, and the Courts of Hanover and CeUe
were anxious above all things to keep the real facts

trbe "Kuin of tbe princess 527
of the case from leaking out. Both Courts resolved
that KOnigsmarck's name should not be even men
tioned in connexion with the Princess, and that any
course agreed upon should be carried out as though
the Count had never existed. Pending further
negotiations. It was resolved to remove the Princess to
her father's territory — not to the castle of Celle, for
that would look as though he condoned her conduct
and bring her and her mother together — but to Ahlden,
a lonely magistrate's house in a distant village, some
twenty miles from Hanover and Celle respectively,
where she would be effectually cut off from intercourse
with the world. It was determined, if possible, to give
this removal the appearance of voluntary flight ; and
the Imprisonment of Knesebeck was also decided upon.
While Count Platen was at Celle the Princess
had addressed another letter to the Elector, who
had always hitherto been Inclined to treat her with
indulgence, asking for an interview with him, and for
permission to be allowed to retire to the territory
of Celle. The Elector merely acknowledged the
letter, saying the matter was under consideration.
The return of Count Platen to Hanover, bringing
the news of how utterly Duke George William con
demned his daughter's conduct, deprived the unhappy
woman of her last chance of protection ; her own father
had turned against her, and there was now no longer
any need to treat her with consideration, or even
with respect. Knesebeck was arrested forthwith, and
without any explanation was hurried off to prison.
Then the Princess knew that she must expect the worst.

528 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
As Count Platen had seen the Duke of Celle,
he was deemed the fit and proper person, despite the
infamous conduct of his wife, to interview the Princess,
and conduct the difficult and delicate negotiations
necessary to bring her to reason. Armed therefore
with the Elector's authority, he went to the Princess's
apartments, entrusted with fidl power to deal with
her as need required. The Princess had now been
shut up in her rooms for nearly a fortnight under
strict survelUance, without any explanation having
been vouchsafed, though she had guessed the reason
but too well.
Platen went expecting to find her humble and
contrite ;" Instead he found her angry and defiant,
and most indignant that he of all people should
have been sent to her : she did not forget that she
was StiU the Electoral Princess and the heiress of
Celle, and her first question was why the Elector
had not come to see her himself. Platen replied
that His Highness bade him say that he declined
to have any further communication with her, and had
sent him to communicate to the Princess the fact
that she would no longer be permitted to remain at
the Court of Hanover. To this the Princess repUed
that she desired nothing better than to go away from
it for ever ; it had been her wish for a long time
past. But she demanded the reason of her unjustifiable
detention. Platen retorted that her detention was
not unjustifiable ; It was in accordance with the orders
of her father as well as of the Elector, and she had
brought it upon herself by her misconduct. The

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 529
Princess haughtily asked him to what he referred,
and he replied, tout court, to her criminal intimacy
with Konigsmarck ; and by way of thrusting the
insult home, added that her Imprisonment was likely
to be prolonged as it was suspected that she was
pregnant by KOnigsmarck. The Princess's anger
blazed forth at this coarse Insult, and she asked
Platen if he mistook her for his shameless wife.
Platen rejoined that It was useless for the Princess
to equivocate or to deny : everything was discovered
and known ; they had possession of her letters, and
her lover had met with his deserts. The Princess's
face blanched, and she exclaimed, " Where is
KOnigsmarck .? " Platen answered that the Count
was discovered leaving her chamber on the night
of July I, and had been killed In resisting his arrest.
This cruel blow completely shattered the Princess's
self-control ; her agony and despair were piteous to be
hold. The thought of KOnigsmarck's murder swallowed
up all else, and, lost to the sense of her own peril,
she burst into weeping and lamentations, praying
God to take her, since he was dead, and vowing she
would live no longer. Platen looked on unmoved,
and noted down all these cries as so many proofs of
her guilt. The Princess, beside herself with grief,
denounced him In the most passionate terms, and
not him only, but the Elector and all the House of
Hanover as murderers and assassins ; she refused to
parley with Platen longer, and bade him begone from
her presence. He left, not without giving orders for
the Princess to be watched closely, as she threatened

530 trbe %OK>c of an tancrowneb diueen
to kill herself. He reported aU that had passed to
the Elector, saying that the Princess was very violent,
and impenitent, and more Insubordinate than ever.
It is quite possible that the Princess would have
committed suicide If she had possessed the means
of doing so, for now, deprived of every friend and
help on earth, she abandoned herself to despair.
Beside the fact that KOnigsmarck was dead all else
was nothing. She no longer cared for her safety or
heeded her Interests ; life had nothing left for her.
As she wrote to him long ago : " My life is bound up
with yours. I woiUd not Uve a moment If you were to
be kiUed." And again : " Without you life would
be intolerable, and Imprisonment within four walls
preferable than to go on living in the world." ^ The
thought that her lover had been foully murdered
coming from her chamber that night, with her kisses
still warm on his lips, drove her nearly mad, and to
her excited Imagination his blood seemed to be on
her head. Her horror and loathing of his assassins,
among whom she included the Electoral family of
Hanover as well as the Platens, knew no bounds ;
compromise with them was Impossible, and her one
desire was to quit this hated palace and find some
quiet spot where she might die. To this frame of
mind — absolute recklessness of the future and in
difference to her own Interests — must be attributed
much of the subsequent attitude of the Princess, an
attitude her enemies were not slow to take advantage
of to work for her hurt.
' Vide correspondence, vol. i., pp. 308-309.

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 531
The Princess's defiance was reported to CeUe, and
reconciliation was seen to be absolutely impossible or
even an amicable settlement. Something would have
to be done forthwith, and it was resolved that steps
should be taken to procure a separation, on the ground
of the Princess's wilful desertion of her husband and
refusal to submit herself to her consort's connubial
rights ; the more drastic measure of divorce was not
yet hinted at. The first thing was to remove the
Princess from Hanover, and communications passed
daily between the two Courts as to when the
Princess should be sent to Ahlden and the best
means of twisting events so that the KOnigsmarck
affair might be kept in the background, and colour
given to the theory of wilful desertion.
In accordance with this policy extraordinary care was
then, and afterwards, taken to destroy or suppress any
documents containing mention of KOnigsmarck's name.
But though no reference to KOnigsmarck can be
found in the manuscripts preserved in the Hanoverian
Archives, they contain several interesting papers which
have reference to the Princess's case, and among them
may be found a despatch bearing on this particular crisis,
a despatch of Platen to Bernstorff, dated July 13, 1694.
In it Platen replies to a letter from Bernstorff, and
says that he gathers from It the Princess may set
out for Ahlden on July 15. The Princess will hear
this " with great satisfaction, as she is much annoyed
that the journey cannot be undertaken on the 14th, so
anxious is she to leave Hanover." After discussing
the journey, retinue, and luggage, he goes on : " As

532 trbe %ox>c of an tancrowneb diueen
to the proposition of suggesting through Monsieur
Busche to Madame la Princesse that she may declare,
in order to save appearances, that she will not, and
cannot, live with the Prince, and therefore has begged
leave to retire before his return here, we consider
it desirable to spread such a rumour abroad, but not
to suggest to the Princess that she should say it.
We will speak to Her Highness to-morrow on the
matter and see what her resolve is."
On July 15 Platen again writes to Bernstorff
saying that he will put his letter of the 14th before the
Elector, and does not doubt that he will faU in with all
Bernstorffs proposals with regard to the journey to
Ahlden. Further on Is It again stated : " She [the
Princess] is extremely anxious to leave this place, so
much so that she receives the news that her journey
must still be delayed a couple of days with great
impatience." And finaUy : " The departure of
Madame la Princesse Electorale cannot possibly pass
for desertion, as she wishes to take aU her belongings
and attendants with her."
It is evident from these letters that the Courts of
Hanover and Celle were anxious to save appearances,
even to the extent of circulating a false report as to
the Princess's flight.
On July 17 the journey was, so to speak, put
upon the stage, and the Princess quitted Hanover
for ever. On arrival at Ahlden she found herself a
State prisoner.
Despite all these elaborate precautions, the truth
was beginning to leak out. Every Court in Europe

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 533
was talking, and, notwithstanding persistent denials,
the imprisonment of the Princess and the dis
appearance of KOnigsmarck were coupled together.
Louis XIV. asked the Duchess d'Orleans at supper
whether it was true that Konigsmarck was imprisoned
In a cellar of the castle at Hanover. Stepney writes
from Dresden :
" We have whisperings as If one of Count
KOnigsmarck's servants was come hither Post from
Hanover to teU y= Elector, His Master has been
missing ever since the 30th of last month, the day
he designed to leave Hanover and come hither,
where he has been made lately Major Generali, to
cleare a debt of — Dollars which He won of y"'
30 .'
Elector when he made y^ campaign two years ago
with you in Flanders. If it be true that y^ Count
is not to be found, 'tis an even lay that they have
used him little better than his Brother did Esquire
Thinn, and perhaps a great Lady likewise (with
whom he is suspected to have been familiar) may
have been some cause of his misfortune. All I can
say of y'' matter, the ElectoraU Prince of Hanover
is at Berlin, acting Comedyles, and making merry
with his sister y^ Electrice." •"
in Hanover, too, the wildest rumours flew about,
ana in Celle, where the Princess was very popular,
there was a great feeling of Indignation at the way
she was being treated. All this was very unpleasant to
the ducal brothers, and feeling that some explanation
' Stepney to Blathwayt, Dresden Despatch, July ^, 1694.

534 trbe %ox)C of an tancrowneb diueen
was advisable, they drafted a circular letter to their
representatives abroad " as a declaration for foreign
wherever delicate points occur."
"The Princess at first," so runs the document,
" displayed only some coldness towards her husband,
but Fraulein von Knesebeck by degrees inspired her
with such dislike to him that she begged from her
father permission to return to her parents' home.
Her father was displeased, and warned the Princess
to place confidence in her husband. After that she
paid her father a visit as Brockhausen ; but when
he learnt that the Prince was intending to make a
journey to Berlin to see his sister, he sent his daughter
back to Hanover with further admonitions that she
should speak with her husband before his departure.
But her dislike of her husband was so intensified by
the machinations of Fraulein von Knesebeck that she
determined not to await his return from Berlin. As
soon as his arrival was imminent, she withdrew again
from Hanover to her father. He, however, sent
messengers to meet her on the way to forbid her
coming to Celle, and insisted on her either returning,
or withdrawing for the present to the magistrate's
house at Ahlden, which lay on the way. The
Princess chose the latter course ; but her corrupter,
Fraulein von Knesebeck, was arrested at the wish
of the Duke George William."
This circular was duly dispatched to the Brunswick-
Liineburg envoys at the different Courts. The very
fact of speaking of Ahlden as if it lay on the road
between Hanover and Celle, when it was twenty miles

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 53s
away from either of them in an opposite direction,
shows that this report relied on the ignorance of foreign
Courts to conceal the actual circumstances. If we
compare Count Platen's two letters already quoted
with this circular, it is clear the whole policy of
those in authority at this time was to mislead. There
Is no mention of Konigsmarck's name, no more than
If he had never existed. Knesebeck Is made the
scapegoat, and her conduct is distorted to veil the
Princess's errors.
We must now leave the Princess for a space and
return to the fate of her lover.
Though this circular to the foreign Courts might
explain the Princess's captivity, it shed no light
whatever on KOnigsmarck's disappearance, with which
they were much more concerned. The Hanoverian
government at this time were verily at their wits'
end to meet the inquiries which beset them on every
side, and the truth that murder will out was being
proved once more. The Count's sisters were most
untiring in their efforts to discover their missing
brother. Acting on the secretary's advice, the
Countess Aurora and the Countess Lewenhaupt,
then at Hamburg, waited twelve days after receiving
his letter, before taking any steps. In the hope
that their brother might turn up. Then they wrote
to the Elector of Hanover for information, saying
that they were credibly informed he was imprisoned
in the Elector's palace. To this letter, as to all
others, from whatever quarter, the Elector replied,
saying that he had no knowledge of Konigsmarck's
VOL. II. 13

536 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
whereabouts, nor was he in any way responsible
for him. On receiving this unsatisfactory reply
Aurora set out for Hanover and proceeded to
prosecute a vigorous search. At Hanover she was
simply ordered to leave, and given a time to quit
the town.^ She then went to Celle, where Bernstorff
told her that her importunate demands would only
have the effect, in case her brother was in the hands
of the Hanoverian government, of making them
refuse to give him up^ ; so after remaining some
time at Celle without any result, she set out for
Dresden to implore the aid of the Elector of Saxony.
Before the arrival of Aurora the Elector of Saxony
had already instituted a search for the vanished
man. On receipt of a letter from Hildebrand he
sent Bannler to Hanover on July 13 to demand
the instant restitution of KOnigsmarck, on the ground
that he was major-general in a cavalry regiment
of the Saxon army, under orders to join the active
forces on the Rhine. Aghast at this peremptory
message from his brother of Saxony, the Elector
Ernest Augustus shuffled and said that he had
no wish to detain the Count, and did not hold
him in his power. Bannier rejoined that KOnigsmarck
had disappeared, and it was the duty of the Elector
to institute a search for him. The answer was
that His Serene Highness, " in personal remembrance
' The Magazine of the Historical Association for Lo-wer Saxony,
1879, page 65.
' Communication of Bernstorff at the Conference of Engesen,
August S, 1694.

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 537
of the high services as colonel rendered by the
vanished man, would not have failed to Institute such
an inquiry, but the fact had been elicited from the
Count's own servants that he had often gone away
at night without leaving any message, and remained
away for days at a time, and so there was no ground
for instituting inquiries." Bannler then pertinently
asked why the Count's belongings had been sealed and
his papers seized. This was met by the statement
that when an officer in the Hanoverian service died it
was customary to subtract his official papers ; and stress
was laid on the fact that the Count was still In the
Hanoverian army when he vanished, and therefore
the Elector, though wlUIng to do all in his power,
could not rightly be expected to hand the man
over if he were found.^ But, however much the
Hanoverian ministers might evade or deny, it was
firmly believed at Dresden that KOnigsmarck's dis
appearance was connected with the Princess. Something
of this may be gathered from the following letter,
which Stepney wrote at this time to Cresset, the
EngUsh envoy at Hanover:
" I have great curiosltie to know what piece of
mischief has been brewing at Hannover. If you dare
not trust It at length, I must beg you to satisfy me
in Cypher, as likewise with y"= particulars of your
Princess's ruine. Amours are fataU in these parts ;
wee have had a scene of them here, and may hereafter
have more y" like nature. But at present y" Tragedy
is removed to y'' Courts, and I fear Daggers and
' Vide Article in Magazine for Lo-wer Saxony, 1879.

538 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
poyson will be as famiUar among you as they are
In Italy. Y'' Princes have been often there, and may
have learned y^ humour of y° country of despatching
people without Noise. A servant or two of Count
KOnigsmarck run frequently betwixt this place and
Hannover, (as I have heard Count Berlo's dog did
betwixt y' Camp and Brasses after y^ Battle of
Fleuros,) seeking out their master, but have no tidings :
our Elector sent one of his Adjutants, Mr Bannier
(a Swede likewise) to Hannover, I believe with a
design to stopp y^ blow if it was not yet given. But
I suppose the Corps by this time is in y® common
shore, and our Elector by y^ accident has cleared y'^
debt ^ R he had lost to him two years ago at play.
I have been told his sister raves like Cassandra, and
will know what Is become of her brother ; but at
Hannover they answer, like Cain, that they are not
her brother's keeper, and that y'= Body should be
found (which I believe as little as y' of Moses), yet
y* circumstances of y" Murder will be left as much in
y" dark as y^ manner of despatching Sir Edmonbury
Godfrey has been. He was not recommended to
be by Mr Stratford ; I knew him in England, at
Hamburg, In Flanders and at Hannover for a dissolute
debauche whom I would always have avoided. By
chance I ate with him here at Count Frizews and
our new privy counsellor Haxthausen, and by chance
likewise they did suppe with me, whereas they were
invited to Mr Bomenburgh's who too late remembered
it was a fish-night and so shifted off his own company
on me. This Is all I have had to do with y= spark,

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 539
and if he has been so black as we think he is, his Fate
(be what It will) is not to be pityed." ^
To modify the somewhat cavalier treatment of
Bannier at Hanover a statement was drawn up by
the Hanoverian government and Count Witgenstein
was dispatched to Dresden as an envoy extraordinary
to explain matters personaUy. Witgenstein was well
received by the Elector of Saxony, and the matter
would probably have blown over without further noise
had it not been for the arrival at Dresden of the
Countess Aurora. This young lady, who possessed
considerable personal attractions, and was already
favourably known to the Elector, threw herself at
his feet, and, repeating all that she had gleaned of
her brother's disappearance at Hanover and Celle,
besought his powerful aid and protection. Augustus
the Strong could never refuse the prayer of a beautiful
woman. He assured Aurora that he would do every
thing in his power to discover the missing man, and
force the Elector of Hanover, If need be at the
point of the sword, to give him up. Stepney writes
again :
" Connigsmark's sister Is come hither under
pretence of getting y'' Elector to interest himself more
warmly than he has done hitherto with the Dukes
of Brunswick-Luneburg about her brother's liberty. If
he be still alive : she believes he is, and wherefore
y'= Elector has sent orders to his Adjutant Bannier
to demand him vigorously. Count Witgenstein (who
' Stepney to Cresset, Dresden Despatch, \,^'^\t 1694.

540 trbe %ox>c of an tancrowneb diueen
Is here from Hannover) endeavours to mitigate y"
Elector by aUedging he ought not to concern himself
for a person who was actually in the Hannoverian
service having received y" pay three days before he
was missing, besides that it Is usual before laying
down to make up accounts with the Regiment, to
take leave at y^ head of it, and so have a Conge In
form signed by y" Master. All which ceremonies
being omitted, he was lyable to be punished as a
Deserter If he were yet to be found which y^ Elector
of Hannover will know nothing of, he being a
debauched rambling sparke, who kept irregular hours,
and consequently it Is next to an impossibility to
given an account what may become of him. I cannot
tell If y^ Elector of Saxony will be contented with
these excuses. Count Witgenstein told me yesterday
his greatest misfortune is that the Elector has not
given y'= cognizance of this affaire to his Privy Council,
but has referred It as he does almost all others to
his favourite Haxthausen, and he communicates aU
to his cousin y'= Dane, who, being a boutefeu, seeks
all occasions to embroile this house with that of
Hannover, and thinks he has now got a good handle
besides y'' old dispute about Saxe-Lawenburg, which
Is only covered with Ashes, and will certainly break
out when time serves. If y^ Count be dead, I
suppose y^ other syde of his sister's errand will be
to try if she can recover any part of y" ^ Dollars
(which as I told you) y"' Elector had lost to her
brother In Flanders, and I am persuaded she will
not take his death to heart when she has once got

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 541
her hand on his Inheritance. They have lodged her
in y« Court." 1
Augustus the Strong again told Bannier to prosecute
his inquiries at Hanover with the utmost vigour ; and
thus It came about that, while the Hanoverian envoy
in Dresden was being cordially received, the Saxon
envoy in Hanover was pressing and threatening more
than ever. Bannier declared he was instructed by
his master to demand once more the restitution of
Konigsmarck sharply and energetically, and a refusal
might entail mischief, for his master had promised
their brother's production to the Count's sisters, and
made a point of honour of fulfilling his promise.
The situation was certainly very unpleasant for the
Hanoverian government, for it was feared that
Saxony might give Its powerful support to the
enemies of Hanover — Wolfenbuttel, Miinster, and
Denmark. The brothers of Hanover and Celle, driven to
extremities, appealed to the Emperor, and declared
that unless Augustus the Strong took up a more
reasonable attitude they would withdraw their troops
from the Allies. This threat made a strong im
pression in Vienna, where the action of the Saxon
Court was called preposterous. How could the
Elector Augustus, the Emperor asked, demand frpm
the Elector of Hanover a man who had not been
given into his charge } The Emperor and the
Elector of Brandenburg brought pressure to bear
on Saxony, and both these potentates used their
' Stepney's Despatch, Dresden, August ^, 1694.

542 trbe %ovc of an tancrowneb diueen
influence in opposition to the promptings of the
Countess Aurora. Stepney writes at this time :
" The Danish Haxthausen pretends to be going
from hence in a day or two and y^ Countess of
KOnigsmarck Ukewise. The Elector had used her
with great distinction, and has supp'd with her twice
with y^ Privy Counsellor Haxthausen at his House,
some think these Curttisyes are only to put her
of with good words since there is nothing more to
be done for her Brother. However, Mr Bannier is
still soliciting at Hannover, and Count Witgenstein
making the best excuses he can here." ^
It would seem from this that Aurora was losing
ground ; but still Bannier was Instructed to insist at
the Court of Hanover for KOnigsmarck's restitution.
He therefore offered Count Platen two alternatives —
either KOnigsmarck was in confinement, or they had
put an end to him. If the former, and his release
was not to be obtained by mild measures. His
Highness would be obliged to show his just resent
ment and take others ; and he let slip the remark
casually that other Powers would be likely to
Interest themselves in the fate of KOnigsmarck,
and make common cause with the Elector of
Saxony if His Highness should be driven to resort
to extreme measures. He went on to say that if
KOnigsmarck did not reappear, " the witnesses whom
they could produce would support Saxony to the
astonishment of the whole world, and matters would
come to extremities."
' Stepney to Blathwayt, Dresden, August p, 1694.

trbe IRuin of tbe princess 543
But Bannier's threats at Hanover were checkmated
by WItgenstein's representations at Dresden, and
eventually the long and violent altercation came to
an end without anything having been done. How
could it be otherwise ? KOnigsmarck was dead,
and aU the princes and potentates of the world
could not bring him back to life.
Stepney thus describes the final scene of the dispute :
" Yesterday Count Witgenstein received an express
from Hannover about Count Conlngsmark, and had
this morning audience of the Elector, In which (he
tells me) he made long contestations in y^ Elector
of Hannover's name, how willing he is to cultivate
his friendship by doing all that could be desired of
him, but that he protested he knows not what has
become of y^ Person for whom application was made,
and to y^ Question whether he was alive or dead
no positive answer could be given, since after y*
best enquiry that could be made they were able
to make no true discovery, which left a very strong
suspicion that he is rather dead than Living. The
Elector of Saxony seemed very moderate after this
answer, as If he doubted not the truth of what had
been offered and replyed, only that he hoped as an
instance of friendship that y* Elector of Hannover
would give him notice as soon as he should learn
any tidings of Count Conlngsmark, and I believe
here that y" affair will end without causing any breach
betwixt y" two Electors. The Count's sister Is gone
hence, but I know not which course she steers." ^
' Stepney to Blathwayt, Dresden, August r|, 1694.

544 trbe %ovc of an tancrowneb diueen
Thus ended the ineffectual search for KOnigsmarck.
His disappearance nearly set Europe by the ears, and
shows that he was a far more important personage
than his enemies are wont to admit him to be.
If the Countess Aurora left Dresden, It was only for
a time, and she returned later to be one of the many
mistresses of Augustus the Strong. The result of
their liaison was the birth of the most celebrated of
aU Augustus's three hundred and fifty-four Illegitimate
children — Maurice, the famous Marshal de Saxe.
Aurora soon found herself superseded In the fickle
favour of the Elector, and a quarrel ensued between
her and her Royal lover. Reproaches were mutual ;
and it would seem the Elector had also something
against Aurora, since he reminded her that Caesar's
wife should be above suspicion. In reply she gave
utterance to the celebrated mot : " The cases are
not parallel : you are not Caesar, and I am not
your wife." The rest of Aurora's strange career
and all that she did — how she withdrew to the Abbey
of Quedlinburg, how she went on her ineffectual
mission to the King of Sweden, and all the other
events of her most eventful life, belong not to this
history. Professor Palmblad has dealt with them fully
in his historical novel Aurora Konigsmarck.

CHAPTER XXV
THE DIVORCE
Here are full many men of counsel met ;
Not one for me. Swinburne, Mary Stuart.
Hope, withering, fled, and Mercy sighed, Farewell !
Byron.
WE now return to the Princess at Ahlden, where
she was still kept In rigorous Imprisonment.
The fiction of the Princess's so-called desertion was
maintained even in the instructions which Duke
George William gave to his commandant for the
treatment of the Princess on her arrival at Ahlden.
The commandant was Seigneur de la Fortlere, Grand
Falconer to the Court of Celle. And the Duke
wrote :
" I . Since It is my intention that my daughter should
remain at Ahlden, and have no communication, either
by letter or other means, with any one whatsoever
until she returns to her duties with the Electoral
Prince, her consort, the Seigneur de la Fortlere will
make himself acquainted with these wishes of mine
and what I have ordered, as I do by this present.
He is not to convey, nor permit to be conveyed by
others to my daughter, any letters except such as
S45

546 trbe %ovc of an tancrowneb diueen
come with an order signed by my hand ; and in like
manner he is not to dispatch, nor aUow to be
dispatched, any letter of my daughter's except with
express permission from me.
"2. In conformity with this order, the Seigneur
de la Fortlere wiU instruct the women, valets, and
other domestics In attendance on my daughter and
all who enter the castle, that those who have, or
receive, letters for any one whatsoever in, or out of,
the castle must place them in the hands of the
Seigneur de la Fortlere on pain of death.
"3. All letters which come for any of the servants,
or which are sent by any on their business, will
likewise be given to the Seigneur de la Fortlere, and
read by him, before being allowed to pass ; and those
which are allowed to go must be stamped with
his seal. If the Seigneur de la Fortiere finds the
sUghtest cause for suspicion in them, he will send
them direct to me.
" 4. The Seigneur de la Fortlere can have all persons
searched by the officer or soldiers of the guard who
give him the slightest cause to suspect them of being
implicated In bringing forbidden messages or letters.
"5. Except those at Ahlden in attendance on my
daughter, no one else will enter the castle without
my express permission ; and the above-mentioned
servants are to have no conversation with any
strangers — that is to say, with any others but those
of the household and people of Ahlden — except In the
presence of the Seigneur de la Fortiere or of some
one commissioned by him for that purpose ; and

THE ENTRANCE TO THE CASTLE OF AHLDEN.

[Tofacep. 546.

trbe Divorce 547
the Seigneur de la Fortiere will give orders that as
soon as strangers arrive in the said Ahlden he shall
be immediately Informed of the fact.
"6. The women and other attendants on my
daughter will not go out of the castle without the
Seigneur de la Portiere's permission, and the remainder
of the servants wiU only enter the castle at fixed hours
to perform their duties, and wiU go away again as
soon as they are done.
"7. My daughter will only leave the castle to take
a walk, if she wishes, in the garden between the two
moats, and then she must be accompanied by the
Seigneur de la Fortiere.
"8. If my daughter wishes to take her meals in the
salon outside her rooms, she will have permission to
do so, and the persons whose business it is to be in
waiting, and the footmen will attend at these meals ;
but the Seigneur de la Fortlere wiU always be present,
and, after rising from table, everybody will leave my
daughter except the lady-in-waiting and her chamber
attendants. " 9. The Seigneur de la Fortlere wiU have the power
to require the officer of the guard, in virtue of the
orders I have given him for that purpose, to adopt
strong measures to ensure the exact execution and
observance of the above, as far as such may be
necessary." It is very difficult to foUow accurately the successive
stages of the proceedings that followed the Princess's
arrival at Ahlden, as most of the official documents

548 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
written at the time were published with intent to
deceive, and the greater part of the divorce proceedings
have been suppressed ; but Dr. KOcher, sometime
keeper of the Hanoverian Archives, has coUected
together sundry fragments of documents which remain,
and has published them with comments of his own
In SybePs Historische Zeit sc hift — a most valuable
contribution, in which he demonstrates that the
divorce trial partook of the nature of a farce, inas
much as everything had been determined beforehand.
Schaumann, the historian, another eminent authority,
on the other hand, maintains that the divorce pro
ceedings were instituted from a real desire to bring
about a reconciliation between the Princess and her
husband. Here we have a conflict of opinion. But
this much at least seems certain ; the Court of CeUe
would gladly have brought about a reconciliation had
it been possible, and the Court of Hanover would
probably have reluctantly agreed to one If it had
been possible for them to get rid of the Princess and
at the same time to keep her territory. But the
determined attitude of the Princess to break at all
hazards with the hated House of Hanover rendered
from the first any attempt at reconciliation out of the
question ; and KOcher is no doubt right in his main
contention. The only point where we differ from
him in his elaborate study of the divorce question is
that he seems to treat the Princess as though she
were a lay figure, to be pulled about at will, and
overlooks the fact that she was a passionate and
self-willed woman, just now driven to bay by the

trbe Divorce 549
death of her lover, and determined at all cost to
free herself from her husband. Under no conditions
would she make terms with KOnigsmarck's murderers,
or return to the Ufe she loathed ; In her present
state of mind she preferred imprisonment, or even
death, to such an alternative. The only thing
therefore that remained was to bring about a separa
tion or divorce as expeditiously, and with as little
scandal, as possible.
Meanwhile the Princess in the Castle of Ahlden
was alone ; her mother was not permitted to see
her, and the only person suffered to approach her
was a minister of religion. Soon after her arrival
at Ahlden two ministers from the Court of Celle,
Bernstorff and Biilow, came to wait upon the Princess.
It must have been a bitter moment for her when she
received them, for she looked to Celle for help, and
none came. The two ministers spent some hours with
her, and when they left they drew up a report of
what happened in a protocol headed, " Report of what
took place at Ahlden," which begins as foUows :
" The reason of our journey was to tell the Princess
the true state of affairs, that everything was discovered,
and therefore nothing could be denied or questioned ;
to tell her what would be publicly said In her defence,
and how she ought to speak in public and conduct
herself In the forthcoming divorce case."
In this document KOnigsmarck is not mentioned,
but it is easy to see what is referred to in the expression
"everything was discovered." The true reason was

55° trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
to be hidden, for the honour of the House ; and the
Princess was to acquiesce in a divorce on the ostensible
ground of her wilful desertion. The ministers found
her only too ready to fall In with their suggestions,
and the report goes on to say : " and she acquiesces
in the separation, and recognises that no other course
could be taken. . . . They were to tell her what to
do, and she would submit. . . ."
The ministers found her cast down and despondent,
but hardly what they describe as penitent, for despite
their statement " that everything was known," they
failed to elicit an avowal of conjugal unfaithfulness.
The Princess admitted appearances were against her.
They might think her culpable or not as they pleased,
but she denied the actual offence in toto, and nothing
ever made her swerve from this position. In this
she was borne out by Knesebeck, then far away from
her beloved mistress and in prison at Springe. This
lady, though examined and cross-examined and
threatened with punishment unless she told the whole
truth, absolutely denied that the Princess had been
guilty with Konigsmarck, though she admitted to
"a few letters and Indiscretions." Later she was
examined again, on her removal to the fortress of
Schwartzfels, and she still affirmed that the Princess
was innocent, and no threats of imprisonment or tor
ture made her swerve from her loyalty. Years later,
when she had gained her liberty and petitioned Duke
George William for her confiscated property, she
did not omit to bear witness again to the innocence
of the Princess.

trbe Divorce ssi
This, of course, opens up the much-vexed question
of how far the Princess's love for KOnigsmarck
went. Some there are, like Duke Antony Ulrich,
who believe the Princess to be absolutely Innocent,
even In thought. This theory however. Is untenable,
since both the Princess and Knesebeck admit, at least,
to indiscretions. Others there are, like the Duchess
d'Orleans, who considered the Princess absolutely bad ;
but their bias is manifest, and they produce no evidence
in support of their contentions. Between these two
classes are the more numerous company of witnesses,
who include such eminent names as Schaumann and
KOcher. These do not believe the Princess guUty
of actual unfaithfulness to her husband. KOcher says,
in summing up an elaborate argument : " We shall
probably therefore hit the mark aright when we say
that the Princess wandered on the edge of an abyss
by vouchsafing to a man who was a foreigner and of
loose morals not a criminal Intimacy, but a confidence
which was a slight on duty and propriety."
But it must be remembered that KOcher and
Schaumann do not accept the authenticity of the
letters, which they had never examined and have never
seen, save for the few fragments published by Palmblad,
confused as to the cypher and the dates, and possibly
a stray letter in one or two essays. There remains
another authority. Count Schulenburg-Klosterrode,
who believes firmly in the authenticity of the letters,
and yet agrees with KOcher that the love between
the Princess and KOnigsmarck was never consummated.
With all the good wUl in the world, it is not easy
VOL. II. 14

552 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
to agree with this view, believing as we do In the
genuineness of the letters, and when we remember
the fiery passion breathed through them, the stolen
meetings, the utter laxity of the morals of the time,
and last, but not least, the harshness of the Princess's
father, who would surely never have refused to see
his only child and have condemned her to lifelong
imprisonment If she had only been guilty of " in
discretion." When we remember all this, it must
be admitted that the evidence against her is so
strong as to be almost overwhelming. But let us
give her the benefit of the doubt. This much
Is certain : she loved one man and one man only,
she sacrificed everything for him, and she was
faithful to her love in life and in death. Whatever
were her mistakes, she was more sinned against than
sinning, and It III befits us to cast a stone.
When Biilow and Bernstorff returned to Celle,
after their Interview with the Princess at Ahlden,
convinced that she was steadfast in her resolve never
to return to Hanover, and would agree to anything
which would bring about this result short of an
avowal of actual guilt, matters were greatly simplified.
The ministers of Celle were in favour of a separation,
the Hanoverian government demanded a divorce,
and, as the Princess's attitude was utterly unyielding,
Celle gave way and a divorce was decided upon.
We find Cresset about this time writing from
Walsrode, a little country town near Ahlden :
" Our unlucky scene lies as it did, the divorce
going forward, and we are all to be quite shamed.

trbe Divorce ss3
I have been twice shooting with this Duke just
under the walls of the house where his daughter
is confined. I hear she is suddenly to be removed
into the country of Hanover. Next post I will
write what I can learn of it to my Lord Duke.
At present I know nothing new. All things look
tragical." ^
The ministers of Hanover and Celle held several
conferences at Engesen, where a plan was drawn up
for the divorce of the Princess. It was resolved to
form a special Conslstorlal Court to try the divorce
case, and care was taken that everything should be
done in due order and with an appearance of legaUty.
Konigsmarck's name was not to be so much as
mentioned ; indeed, how could it be mentioned when
his avengers were knocking so loudly at the gates?
Taking it for granted that the divorce would be
decreed, the following arrangements were then made
between the Elector and the Duke of Celle for the
Princess's safe keeping and maintenance :
George William agreed to keep the Princess guarded
at some magistrate's house In his country, and to
settle on her the magistrate's house at Ahlden as
her permanent residence in case of his demise. The
' Cresset's Despatch, August 14, 1694. The letter which Cresset
mentions as being about to write to the Duke of Shrewsbury is not
preserved in the State Paper Office, nor indeed are any letters of
his at this time, save a few fragments probably overlooked, which
have been quoted here. There is nothing bearing on the Princess or
KOnigsmarck. As the English envoy's correspondence is voluminous
just before and just after the catastrophe, these letters have been
doubtless suppressed purposely : it is a pity, as they would have
thrown great light on this vexed question.

SS4 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
retinue and personal attendants and guard which
were to attend the Princess were arranged, and it
was agreed that no changes should be made without
the mutual approval of both the Elector of Hanover
and the Duke of Celle. The Princess was to be
allowed a sufficient establishment for her maintenance
and that of her suite. Ernest Augustus was to allow
her a yearly sum of eight thousand thalers (^^ 1,200),
and he agreed to raise this sum to ^^ 1,800 when her
father died, and yet again by another ;£8oo when she
had completed her fortieth year — a sum total of ^2,600
per annum, not a bad aUowance when we consider
the value of money in those days and the circumstances
of the case. The Princess, moreover, was heiress to
considerable property from her mother, which would
remain untouched. In return, Duke George WUliam
conceded certain modifications of his daughter's
marriage settlement, whereby the freehold lands he
had bequeathed to her should pass directly to her
son. Prince George Augustus, and the administration
of the same should pass Into the hands of the
Electoral Prince. On only one point were the
brothers unable to agree. Duke George William
proposed that the love-letters of the Princess (the
Incriminating correspondence found in KOnigsmarck's
rooms) should be sent to Celle, after the divorce, to
be burnt, or they should be burnt at Hanover in the
presence of the ministers of Hanover and Celle. This
suggestion found no favour with Ernest Augustus, who
put the matter off for the time being. Doubtless he
feared that his brother might relent at some future

trbe Divorce sss
time towards his daughter, and he did not wish to
lose this damning evidence against the Princess.^
Thus it will be seen that everything was settled
before the Divorce Court assembled, and the verdict
was treated as a foregone conclusion. The ministers
drew out instructions for the judges and attorneys,
and watched over the trial that ensued step by step.
The agreement above mentioned was signed by
Duke George WiUiam and the Elector Ernest
Augustus on September i, 1694, and a few days
later the Princess was brought over from Ahlden
to the magistrate's house at Lauenau, in Hanoverian
territory, so as to be nearer the scene of the trial.
Even this slight change was not effected without
difficulty, for the Princess viewed with terror any
return to the Principality of Hanover ; but she
was pacified by being told that as soon as the
divorce was decreed she would be allowed to return
to the territory of CeUe — she believed as a free
woman. This made her all the more impatient for
a divorce and the more ready to concede anything
and everything demanded by her enemies. The
story that the Princess, shortly after her arrival at
Lauenau, took the sacrament in the presence of
the Hanoverian ministers, solemnly vowing her
innocence and daring Countess Platen to do the same,
is very dramatic, but lacks confirmation. It would
contradict the evidence of the few genuine documents
still remaining, which go to show that the whole
¦ The fate of these letters is uncertain, but they were probably
destroyed some years later by George 11.

ss6 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
policy of the ministers of both Courts was to hush
up any allusion to a criminal Intrigue.
Everything having been now arranged, the tribunal
of the Divorce Court began Its solemn farce. The
court was composed of a president and eight judges,
four lay and four spiritual. In equal numbers from
Celle and Hanover respectively. Privy Councillor
Albert Philip von Busche was appointed President by
both Hanover and Celle. All these judges were
sworn by a special oath : " To judge In this matter
uprightly and honestly to the best of our under
standing. In accordance with godly and worldly rights
and the custom of the Christian Evangelical Church,
and not to let ourselves be led away or hindered by
anything, whatever Its name may be." A goodly
oath indeed ; and yet it had little meaning for most
of them, though some of the judges had qualms of
conscience and did not prove quite the docile tools
they were expected to be.
On September 20 the Divorce Court assembled at
Hanover and received the suit of the Electoral
Prince, who prayed for a dissolution of marriage on
the ground of his wife's wilful desertion and refusal to
grant him his connubial rights. This was duly set
forth in a formal document presented to the court
by the Prince's attorney. After considering it for
two days the court sent It to the Princess at Lauenau,
and requested a reply, leaving it to her option to
decide whether she would submit her answer in
writing, or make It orally by word of mouth to a
deputation of the court. This was a fair proceeding.

trbe Divorce 5S7
and guarded against the possibility of undue influence,
but it did not agree with the ministerial programme ;
so the Government refused to sanction the alternative
of an oral reply, lest the Princess might express her
self too freely to the deputation. Marshal von Biilow,
of Celle, and Thies, the attorney, were therefore
directed by George William to go to Lauenau Instead,
and obtain a written declaration from the Princess
in harmony with the policy already decided upon.
Biilow was instructed, so Duke George William's
directions read, " to seek an opportunity to speak to
the Princess alone, and endeavour to remind her
to take pains before everything else to express her
answer in such terms as to give no possible further
cause for exasperation [aigreurj." Further, Thies
was to be introduced to the Princess In order to
learn from her directly " whether she was agreeable
to his superseding her attorney's functions, which,
being the case, the Princess would accede to him full
powers." Then the Princess " would furnish him
with materials out of which he was to formulate her
defence ; and she was, among other matters, to declare
positively whether she would, or could, ever again
prevail upon herself to return to her consort, the
Electoral Prince, and. If not, whether she would be
content to accept the verdict of the court on the
matter." The result of this mission was exactly what might have
been expected. The Princess was quite incapable of
looking after her interests, especially In this case, where
they seemed to run counter to her inclinations, for

558 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
she desired the divorce above all things, and fully
believed that when It was obtained and she had obeyed
her father's and her uncle's wishes she might safely
trust to their indulgence and generosity. Subsequent
events proved that she was wrong, but at the time
her policy seemed the right one. She authorised the
attorney to act for her as directed, and without ado
signed a written declaration declaring in most emphatic
language she would never again cohabit with her
husband. The Princess's declaration was withheld from the
Divorce Court until it had been examined by the
ministers. Vice-ChanceUor Hugo of Hanover expressed
himself dissatisfied with the wording, and he feared
the Divorce Court would not be content. He there
fore drafted another, more formally worded, to be
submitted to the Princess.
As this document was in substance the same, the
ducal brothers, who were then hunting at Gohre,
professed Indifference as to which should be presented ;
but Biilow put in a plea for the consideration of the
Princess on the ground that she might be confused
by having to sign another declaration. Bernstorff,
always the enemy of the Princess, favoured the draft
of Hugo, because it would have the effect " of in
ducing the court to imagine that the Princess was
the much more self-willed and not to be overruled " ;
and he went on to write to Hugo in favour of his
draft, saying : "It shows a more rebellious spirit
[contumacia'], and the court will on that account have
all the more cause to give a verdict of divorce." The

trbe Divorce 559
matter was referred to Hugo, who naturally decided
In favour of his own draft. Thies, the Princess's
attorney, was then directed to go again to Lauenau and
obtain the Princess's signature to this second document.
He was instructed to exhort, " in a general way,"
the Princess to a reconciUation with her husband ; but
that the admonition was regarded as a mere form
may be gathered from the fact that we find Bernstorff
writing : " Although he [Thies] might bring the most
powerful arguments to bear on the Princess's case
in order to talk her over to return to her husband,
he would effect nothing whatever." Bernstorffs
surmise was quite right ; the Princess was only too
ready to play into the hands of her enemies, and
Thies found her most impatient at the delay. She
anxiously asked if the suit would result In a divorce.
Her attorney replied that a definite declaration was
necessary, the other not having been definite enough.
She then took a pen and resolutely signed the new
document laid before her, which was worded as
follows :
" Now we [Sophie Dorothea] give the circumstances
mentioned by the attorney of our Consort Louis, in
the charge of desertion brought against us, their due
place ; but we cannot refrain from again adding that
we adhere persistently to the resolution, once drawn
up and constantly affirmed, that we will not, and
cannot, ever again Uve In conjugal relations with our
Consort Louis, Duke of Brunswick and Liineburg,
Prince Electoral, and we will therefore accept the
verdict of the court on the matter."

56o trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
Thies was by way of being a conscientious man,
and had his doubts as to the wisdom of the suicidal
policy the Princess was pursuing. He therefore
entered upon his task of advising the Princess without
seeming to persuade ; but she would not hear him.
He, however, told her frankly that the result of her
declaration would assuredly be a verdict acquitting
the Prince and aUowing 'him to marry again, and
convicting her as the guilty party, and forbidding her
to marry. The Princess answered firmly : " In spite
of this, my determination Is unalterable." Then
Thies added a clause to the Princess's declaration
stating that :
" In spite of the fact that all suitable and urgent
advice from higher authorities has been given to
the Princess, and pressed finaUy by myself as her
appointed attorney, yet It must, to my great regret,
be stated that nothing more could be extracted from
Her Serene Highness, except the written declaration
enclosed with this."
These documents were then sent to the Divorce
Court. Despite all these elaborate stratagems and pre
cautions, the very thing happened which the ministers
wished to avoid. The Divorce Court refused to be
satisfied with the written declaration, and insisted on
the necessity of an oral hearing. To this end a
deputation of the judges was sent to Lauenau, that
they might hear the Princess's declaration from her
own lips and judge whether any undue influence had
been brought to bear upon her.

trbe Divorce s^i
The ministers of both Hanover and Celle were
alarmed at this hitch in the proceedings, and imme
diately took steps to prevent any untoward results.
Another Conference was summoned at Engesen on
November 15.
It is notoriously difficult to save those who are bent
on their own destruction, as the Princess seemed to
be ; but In the meantime the Duchess of Celle was
making every effort on behalf of her daughter, and
seized on the opportunity afforded by this delay to
urge some concessions. The result was that, when the
Conference met at Engesen, Bernstorff brought forward,
on the part of Duke George William, a motion to
the effect that the separation should only be a judicial
one (i.e. a mensa et thoro) ; but the reason alleged —
namely, that a complete separation would be pre
judicial to the children — did not make the slightest
impression on the Hanoverian ministers, who saw
in this the hand of the Duchess of Celle. They
replied with some logic, that if a separation of that
kind was all that had been desired. It might have
been arranged by the parties themselves without the
services of the Divorce Court ; and to make such
a change so late In the day would cast a slight not
only on the Electoral Prince, but on the House of
Hanover. Seeing they would not give way, Bernstorff
changed his tactics, and put in a plea that the verdict
might at least not be made public. But the Hano
verian ministers declared that such a course would
lead to prejudicial interpretations ; and the Conference
broke up without coming to an agreement. The

562 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
Elector of Hanover strongly supported his ministers,
and sent to Celle the following communication :
" That because, as is well known, it was decided
after careful consideration of the facts to bring forward
a suit on the charge of desertion, that the honour
and high reputation of the Electoral Prince and the
Princess herself and their chUdren might be guarded,
and also of that of our most gracious selves, their
parents, so the publication of the verdict is all the
more unavoidable, as otherwise there would be every
opportunity of Interpreting the cause of the separa
tion to the injury and prejudice of the persons just
mentioned on both sides."
And the argument went on to say that it would
be equally prejudicial to the children. Thereupon
Duke George William gave way, and the Duchess
of Celle was beaten.
This Interlude also goes to prove that the verdict
of the Divorce Court was already settled by the
higher powers before the deputation from the judges
went to Lauenau to admonish the Princess. The
deputation consisted of two only. Judge Molan
and the President Busche. Judge Molan entered
upon his task In an earnest and honourable spirit.
Busche, who was in the secret confidence of the
ministers, contented himself with platitudes of the
commonest order. Judge Molan, who was a worthy
man, treated the Princess to a long dissertation
on the duties of holy matrimony, quoting to her
the First Epistle of Saint Paul to the Corinthians,
vii. IO. Coming down from these heights, he

trbe Divorce 5^3
proceeded to point out to her, as her attorney had
already done, that, as the culpable party, she would
not be permitted to make a second marriage, though
the privilege would be allowed to the other side.
He also reminded her of what her children would
lose when deprived of their mother, and expatiated
on the grandeur of the position which the Princess
was abandoning. He suggested that the dispute
should be reconsidered under the Influence of fervent
prayer, at which a minister of religion might assist.
But his admonitions and his prayers made absolutely
no impression on the Princess, who declared that
she could better serve the Almighty by remaining
alone, and she was thankful to have the opportunity
of withdrawing from the world. She insisted that
under no circumstances whatever would she return
to the Court of Hanover, or to the Electoral Prince,
her husband. In short she reaffirmed verbally and
with emphasis the declaration she had already made
in writing. It is true that she had no alternative, for
everything had been settled beforehand ; but there
is no reason to suppose that she was acting under
compulsion, as all along she had retained a fixed
desire to be free of Hanover at all costs. Yet, even
so, the Divorce Court refused to be satisfied. They
were conscious of the doubtful legality of the
proceedings, and they were desirous of guarding their
honour and saving appearances as far as possible. So
the- Princess had, for the third time, to sign a written
declaration to the effect that :
" We adhere firmly to the resolution already expressed

564 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
by us in writing, that our attorney shall not oppose
anything further that may be urged against us, but
shall adhere to our previous resolution, and strive to
bring the matter to a speedy Issue."
The Divorce Court met again on December i,
and the Princess's reply and the report of the
deputation were formally handed In. These papers
were submitted to the Prince's attorney, and it was
asked If His Highness persisted in his suit. Two
days later the Prince's reply was handed in. The
substance of it was as follows :
That His Highness had given this most important
matter, with aU the consequences It might entail, his
most careful consideration. It was only with painful
feelings he could decide to take this extreme course,
and he had left no stone unturned to bring the
Princess to a better frame of mind, and his father
and father-in-law had also given themselves personally
the greatest trouble about It. But as nothing had
been effected by this means, and the Issue proved
that the Princess adhered to her resolution, and her
purposed desertion had been quite clearly proved, the
Prince felt bound to maintain the petition expressed
in his suit.
The sword was now ready to fall, but at the
eleventh hour the Duchess of Celle made one more
effort on behalf of her daughter. We find that Duke
George William entered a request for a lightening
of the intended verdict. He took exception to the
demand of the Court of Hanover that the sentence
of the court should expressly forbid the Princess

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trbe Divorce 56s
to marry again, and so threatening was his tone
that the judges began to hesitate about complying
with the Hanoverian orders, and the verdict was
postponed. In order to break down this opposition
of the Duke of CeUe, Vice-ChanceUor Hugo, who
held a brief for Hanover, drew up a long legal opinion
for the direction of the Divorce Court, and sent it to
Bernstorff at CeUe for approval and return. This
document is very Interesting. The first part of the
*' opinion " deals wholly with legal matters ; the second
part, which considers the peculiar arguments of the
case from the dynastic point of view of the Court of
Hanover, may be quoted in fuU :
" I. The Princess has given evidence of wicked
intentions, of her purposed flight from the country
in secret, thereby bringing the House into everlasting
shame and disgrace. It would not have been possible
for this to occur, unless very bitter opponents who
were interested In the ruin of the House had seized
the opportunity to make use of her evil designs in
their schemes.
" The House has been thereby cast Into such dis
order and danger as cannot be contemplated without a
shudder. We must thank the kindness of Providence
for having prevented It, and in addition consider
what is to be expected in the future from a person
who has ventured already on so desperate a scheme,
and how extremely necessary It Is to place not only
practical, but legal, restraints upon her, which are best
carried out by expressly forbidding her again to marry :
there will thus be the less occasion for caviUing.

566 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
"2. The judges forming the deputation have re
ported how strongly the Princess desired the sentence
of separation, and what joy she manifested on learning
that it might soon be passed. It may be conjectured
that If she had been of a good disposition she wotdd
have been deeply grieved at causing her own father
so much pain, and bringing such injury on those who
showered kindness and affection on her. She ought
further to consider how she will fall from her high
position. She ought also to show compassion for
her children. But when a mother displays joy
over her separation from her children, we may
gather what is to be expected of her.^
"It Is known, that before she conceived these evU
designs, she had on different occasions expressed a
longing to be a marchioness of France (these are
people of no particular worth) rather than Princess
of Brunswick-Luneburg, for then she would be able
to amuse herself better, whereas she was at present
as good as a prisoner. Such a disposition is easily
concealed for a time, but difficult to overcome. What
can we opine from so Intense a craving for a separa
tion except that her mtention is to seek some such
position as that she has already hoped for ? And such
a course is all the more to be expected of her should
we not refuse her the right to marry again in the
judicial verdict."
KOcher (In whose article in SybeVs Historiche
' But Sophie Dorothea thought she would be allowed to see her
children occasionally after the divorce. She had no idea that her
retirement involved perpetual imprisonment.

trbe Divorce 567
Zeitschrift this is quoted) goes on to say : "In
place of the third and fourth arguments, which are
crossed out In the copy before me, the foUowing Is
interpolated in Hugo's handwriting : ' There are still
more serious considerations, which, however, cannot
be well discussed.' The original words, however,
which can be deciphered pretty clearly under the
thick lines, are :
"3. She has an indulgent mother, who does not
grasp the position of affairs, nor judge of them
correctly, and who shows peculiarly little affection
for this Electoral House.
" 4. The Princess looks forward to a very large
fortune from her mother. Her father also is not
likely to forget her.
" 5. [In short] We must be on our guard against
the enemies of the House, and give them as little
occasion as possible for gaining a hold on us.
" 6. [To much the same effect, with arguments
ad Deum thrown in]."
The " opinion " concludes with an apostrophe to
the judges :
" This most lofty House has placed Its safety and
dignity in your hands, my lord judges, confiding in
your prudence. Your country and innocent people
have exposed the dangers assailing them to you, and
demand your aid for their security," etc., etc.
It was therefore mainly the fear ot the Influence ot
the Duchess of CeUe, as well as doubt of the vacil
lating spirit of Duke George WiUiam, which made the
VOL. II, 15

sS8 tTbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
Hanoverian government determined to bind the heiress
of CeUe as tightly as possible, and this document
shows how anxious they were. For some days no
answer was returned from Celle, and Hugo wrote
two or three times, begging for a reply. It was the
final duel between the Duchess of CeUe and Berns
torff, with Duke George WiUiam between ; and the
Duchess got the worst of it, for, after considerable
hesitation, the Duke gave way.
It is not possible to follow the exact order of
the proceedings ; but that the Duchess was beaten is
obvious from the fact that on December 15 Thies
handed in the final reply of the Princess, and as he
repeated again the Princess's declaration we must
conclude that an understanding had been arrived at.
The verdict, which was delivered immediately, shows
that the Princess's enemies had won. It runs as
follows :
" In the matrimonial suit of the iUustrious Prince
George Louis, Electoral Prince of Hanover, against
his consort, the illustrious Princess Sophie Dorothea,
etc., we, constituted president and judges of the
Matrimonial Court of the Electorate and Duchy of
Brunswick-Luneburg, declare and pronounce judgment.
After attempts have been tried and have failed to
settle the matter amicably, and in accordance with
the documents and verbal declarations of the Princess
and other detailed circumstances, we agree that her
continued denial of matrimonial duty and cohabitation
is well founded, and consequently that it is to be
considered as an Intentional desertion. In consequence

trbe Divorce 569
whereof we have considered sentence, and now declare
the ties of matrimony to be entirely dissolved and
annuUed. Since in similar cases of desertion It has been
permitted to the innocent party to re-marry, while the
other is forbidden, the same judicial power will be
exercised in the present instance In favour of His
Serene Highness the Electoral Prince.
" (Published in the Conslstorlal Court of Hanover,
December 28, 1694)."
This sentence was signed by the president and aU
the judges, and delivered to the Princess at Lauenau
on December 31. The same day — the last day of
that evil year — she formally signified her acceptance
of the verdict.
The result of the trial was duly communicated to
the representatives of Hanover and Celle at foreign
Courts, and from that time the Princess was politicaUy
dead. Her name was never mentioned In the Electoral
Court of Hanover ; It was struck out of the Church
prayers, and expunged from official documents. Thrust
out from the Hanoverian Court, she found her father's
Court also closed to her, and she entered upon her
long captivity of thirty-two years — a captivity from
which death alone was to bring release.

CHAPTER XXVI
THE PRISONER OF AHLDEN
Oh ! give me liberty —
For were ev'n Paradise my prison,
StiU I should long to leap the crystal walls. Dryden.
FOR more than a year after the divorce the
Princess was detained at Lauenau, in the
Principality of Hanover, despite the stipulation Duke
George WiUiam had made that, when the trial was
ended, his daughter should be sent back to his keeping
in the territory of Celle. Various reasons caused
this delay, which amounted to a breach of contract,
the chief being the fear that the Duke of Celle woidd
relent towards his daughter.
So far, the Hanoverian government had won all
along the line. They had got rid of the Princess
and had kept her property, and they were determined
that nothing should upset so admirable an arrange
ment for them. It was known that the Duchess
of Celle was moving heaven and earth on behalf of
the unhappy Princess (nor did she cease her efforts
as long as she lived), and it was feared that if
she and Sophie Dorothea came together the Duke
57°

trbe ffirisoner of ablben 571
might be persuaded into seeing his daughter, and
then all would be undone. Moreover, there was
a strong party at Celle, including many persons
of rank and influence, who loudly declared that
their Princess had been hardly and unfairly treated,
and they were ready to promote an agitation in her
favour and to question the legality of her divorce,
certainly of her imprisonment. Popular demonstra
tions at Celle were things to be avoided by those
who desired the union of the Duchies, and It was
determined to keep the Princess locked up in
Hanover territory until the excitement had cooled
down. The behaviour of the Elector and Electress and
all the Electoral family, throughout this unhappy
affair, was callous in the extreme. It would only have
been seemly if, after a painful family scandal such
as this, the Electoral Court had gone into retirement
for a time ; but the annual carnival and festivities took
place at Hanover as If nothing had happened. Nor
did the death of Queen Mary II. of England, though
it put the Electoral Court Into mourning and advanced
the Electress Sophia one step nearer the EngUsh
throne, make any difference to the pleasure-loving
Hanoverians.^ The solitary confinement of the Princess at Lauenau
gave her ample time for reflection, and she gradually
awoke to a sense of her position. The murder of
' " The Carnaval here is very provoking, but they cannot live without
it ; they are a sort of people that can rejoice even in their own
disgraces." Cresset's Despatch, Hanover, January ii, 1695.

572 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
her lover had stunned her for a time, and her
passionate grief at his loss had almost robbed her of
reason. The desire to break absolutely with Hanover,
where she had suffered so much misery and insult,
amounted to a mania, and this, added to the fact
that "everything was known," had led her into
acquiescence with anything and everything that had
been proposed to her. She now began to see that she
had been betrayed into forfeiting her interests, and
had consented to a divorce, and the surrender of her
property and rank, without insisting upon adequate
guarantees. She, all along, had been given to under
stand by her attorney and the ministers who visited
her that, when once the divorce was accomplished,
she would be free, aUowed to return to the territory
of Celle, and given an establishment where she
could live in retirement, which was all she now
desired. Her father's anger, she hoped, woidd be
mollified by her submission ; but her hope turned
out to be vain. That she would be shut out from
his Court, kept a strict prisoner, and forbidden to
even see her mother did not enter her mind. Too
late she saw that she had been entrapped into a
false position.
There is no doubt that this harsh treatment of
Sophie Dorothea was thoroughly approved by the
Electress Sophia (if, indeed, it was not in some respects
Instigated by her), who In this connexion appears
in a most unamiable light. Knowing what manner
of man her son was, she might have made some
aUowance for his unhappy young wife ; but she had

trbe iprisoner of Hblben 573
no feeling for her save hatred and contempt. Her
letters to her niece, the Duchess d'Orleans, at this
period are missing (they have evidently been purposely
destroyed) ; but the letters of the Duchess to the
Electress are still extant, and have been published.
They are, for the most part, replies to her aunt's
letters, and are an echo of the hatred with which the
Electress Sophia pursued the disgraced daughter of the
d'Olbreuse. Elizabeth Charlotte calls the Princess " a
miserable creature, who deserves every misfortune " ;
she denounces her " wicked tongue," and describes
her as "a person as malicious as she is frivolous,"
her frivolity being an inheritance from her French
mother, whose bad training of her daughter was the
fount of all her misfortunes.
Incredible though it may seem, both the Electress
and her niece took the part of the Countess Platen,
and defended her against the defamatory rumours
that were flying about. The part the Countess had
played in the murder of Kdnigsmarck and the con
sequent ruin of the Princess were matters of common
gossip at every Court of Europe, and her conduct
universally reprobated. King Louis questioned Eliza
beth Charlotte about it at table at VersaiUes ; but the
Duchess denied everything, and writes to her aunt
that she told the King : " So far as concerns Countess
Platen, I believe, from what I had heard of the Princess
and from my own knowledge of the Countess, that
the former is a much more evil-minded person than
the latter, whom I believe to be a very good sort
of person."

574 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
Again we find the Duchess d'Orleans writing :
" There Is no likelihood that the Countess Platen
would have degraded herself with so young a
man as KOnigsmarck. I am much more inclined
to believe that she flattered him in the hope of
making a match between him and her daughter, for
he was a good catch. It may be, however, that
Konigsmarck wished, from motives of vanity, to
make the former think that all women were in love
with him, in order that his society might be the
more acceptable to her, for all young fellows are
generaUy vain ; and when the Princess afterwards
found herself betrayed, she imagined that the Countess
was the cause of it. I am sorry for the Countess,
who it seems has taken the matter so much to heart
that she has got IU. Such slanders, when not true,
should be simply despised and laughed at, and not
taken seriously. It is miserable to see oneself so
badly treated by the very persons whom one imagined
held one dear, and I am not surprised that the Countess
has taken it to heart."
The Countess Platen was ill not only in body,
but in mind. Her reputation had suffered a severe
blow, and, despite the protection of the Elector and the
aegis of the Electress, a number of personages about
the Court looked coldly upon her. Both KOnigsmarck
and the Princess were popular, and many official
people among the Hanoverian nobility shunned the
woman whom they believed to have been the cause of
the death of the one and the ruin of the other, while
at Celle her name was held in execration. AU this

trbe prisoner of Hblben 57s
served to enrage the Countess the more against the
Imprisoned Princess, and she did all she could to
prevent any mitigation of her punishment. In this she
was supported by the Electress Sophia. Schaumann
indeed holds the Electress primarily responsible for
aU the Princess's troubles, and declares that: "The
presence of the Princess Sophie Dorothea In Hanover
was from the first impossible and untenable on
account of the unquenchable hatred and scorn which
the Electress Sophia, her mother-in-law, evinced
towards her." We have seen that the Electress
Sophia was capable of dissembling this hatred and
of acting with outward consideration to her daughter-
in-law ; but the moment she caught her tripping,
all her latent enmity blazed forth, and she rejoiced
to see the Hanoverian Court rid of the daughter
of her hated rival. The Princess had faUen through
her own folly, and now was the time to trample on
her. To the hatred of these two women, the wife
and the mistress of the Elector, must be attributed
many of the rigours of Sophie Dorothea's imprisonment,
and her detention at Lauenau.
At last, owing to the persistent efforts of the
Duchess of Celle, who was never tired of pointing out
to her husband the breach of contract Involved in the
Elector's keeping the Princess so long In Hanoverian
territory, the captive was removed from Lauenau to
Ahlden, where she had been confined for some weeks
prior to the divorce.^
' "The unlucky Princess is still in this country and they talk of
removing her suddenly into her father's territory." — KnatchbuU's
(secretary to Cresset) Despatch, Hanover, February 22, 1695.

576 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
On February 28, 1695, the Princess left Lauenau
and returned under strong escort to the Castle of
Ahlden, which had meantime been prepared for her
reception. According to the arrangement arrived at
between the two brothers at Engesen, on her arrival
there she was formaUy given the rank and tide of
" Duchess of Ahlden," and was accorded a suite of
attendants, a mUitary escort of cavalry and infantry,
and a governor of the casde. There was yielded to
her an outward semblance of honour ; but in reality
the tide was a blind to conceal her real position from
the world, the suite were spies, the escort and the
governor her gaolers.
Except for one brief interlude of a few months'
duration, Ahlden was henceforth the Princess'
residence and prison to the day of her death — more
than thirty years later. A description of the place
may therefore be of Interest. With a view to writing
this book, I visited Ahlden on September 10, 1898,
and made the following notes the evening of the
same day :
"It was not without difficulty that I discovered
Schloss AJilden was still in existence ; many people
in Hanover had never heard of it. I, at last, found
that there was a village of Ahlden, with a magistrate's
house still standing, near the country town of
Walsrode, some twenty miles from Hanover ; and the
nearest station was Reitlagen. Acting on this Infor
mation, a friend and myself set out from Hanover
at 7 a.m. by the local train to Reidagen. At that

trbe prisoner of Hblben 577
early hour we were almost the only passengers, and
the plain, over which the single line of railway ran,
was enveloped in a thick mist. We traveUed very
slowly, stopping every few minutes at some little
wayside station. A bell was fixed to the engine to
warn stray cattle off the line, and as we went
through the fog it tolled like a funeral knell. By-
and-by the mist began to lift, and we saw we
were traversing a flat, marshy country. There were
reeds, thistles, flags and rushes In the grass fields,
and a good deal of common land, on which nothing
but scrub and brushwood seemed to grow. About
9 o'clock the train pulled up at the Uttle station of
Reitlagen. Here we found a conveyance to take us
to Ahlden, which was said to be some five miles
distant ; it proved to be much nearer.
" By this time the mists had lifted, the sun was
shining briUiantly. As we drove along the dusty road,
bordered by poplars and limes, we passed a cottage
or two with gardens full of plum-trees laden with
purple fruit, and every now and then a patch of
yellow lupin. The land was for the most part rough
pasture, and the country reminded me of the fen
districts of Cambridgeshire, and a windmill and a
flight of plover served to strengthen the resemblance.
We drove across the AUer, which shone Uke steel
under the cloudless sky, and then suddenly, long
before we anticipated, we saw a red roof peeping out
among the trees on the south bank of the river,
and the driver pointed with his whip and said, ' There
is Schloss Ahlden.' In the distance the castle looked

578 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
like a fair-sized EngUsh manor-house, but on closer
Inspection it proved to be something different. The
moat had long since been filled up, and the drawbridge
yielded place to a short avenue of limes ; but the
square entrance-gateway still remained, and externally
the castle was little changed.
" Above the gateway was the date of the building
of the castle — 1613 — and an elaborate coat-of-arms,
carved In stone, supported by figures of Piety and
Justice. The irony of it ! There was little of either
piety or justice In the treatment meted out to the
hapless captive who gave the castle its sole title to
fame. There was also an Inscription to show that
it was erected by Duke Christian of Brunswick-Liine
burg as the magistrate's house of the district.
" Passing under the arched gateway, rudely painted
with frescoes, we found ourselves in a grassgrown
quadrangle : one wing only, the left as we entered, had
been Inhabited by the Princess Sophie Dorothea.
" Entering the doorway In the centre of the wing,
we mounted a wooden staircase, traversed a corridor
with a rough floor and whitewashed walls, and presently
found ourselves in the Princess's apartments. They
consisted of a bedroom and sitting-room of moderate
size, say twenty-two feet by sixteen, leading from one
another, with a bare celling and wooden floor. The
rooms were destitute of furniture, and we were told
that they had never been used since the Princess died
in them. The sleeping-room had two windows, looking
over the garden towards the village, and an alcove
for the bed. The sitting-room had two windows also.

SOPHIE Dorothea's wing of the castle of ahlden. [Tofacep. 578.

trbe prisoner of Hblben 579
looking across the Aller over the marsh land. Beyond
these apartments was a larger room, now partitioned,
which had served as a dining-hall for the suite and
attendants. The Princess was permitted. If she wished,
to dine with her household, sitting at the head of
the table. The rest of the wing was occupied by
her suite.
" Another side of the quadrangle was the magis
trate's house, then inhabited by the Governor ;
a third served as barracks for the military guard ;
and the fourth as outhouses and stables. In reality
the Princess had for her own personal use only two
small rooms, and the whole building was no larger
than a moderate-sized English country-house. Even
as we saw It on a bright September morning It was
indescribably dreary : in the winter, with the mists
and floods, it must be a veritable ' House on the
Marsh,' and to the poor prisoner who wore her life
out there, it must have seemed a Castle of Despair.
" The castle is In tolerable repair, and Is still used
as the magistrate's house of the district, and justice
is dispensed there at stated times. The magistrate no
longer resides there. It Is In charge of a casteUan,
who is also a farmer and carpenter In the village.
We found this official courteous and willing to give
us any information he possessed, which unfortunately
was not much.
" There are absolutely no relics of the Princess re
maining at Ahlden, for the Hanoverian government,
after her death, did everything to stamp out her name
and ber memory. Her picture, which hung in the

58o trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
castle for many years, was sent to Herrenhausen.
Only fifteen years ago two large boxes of papers
at Ahlden, said to have belonged to her, were
ordered to be sent to Hanover. They were put on
a cart, to be dispatched from Reitlagen by train,
but on the way to the station they mysteriously
disappeared. Whether they dropped out of the
cart, or whether they were stolen none can say ;
they have not been heard of from that day until
now. We were told this by the casteUan, who
assumed an air of mystery on this and other matters.
He pointed out to us the window from which the
unfortunate Princess was said to gaze with wistful
eyes for hours together across the marsh, looking for
the deliverance that never came. Year in and year
out, for thirty years and more she would gaze from
this window, while youth went by and middle age
went by and old age crept on, until one November
morning she was seen no more.
" From the castle we walked down the viUage street
to the little Lutheran Church — a plain, ugly building,
part of which Is ancient, but most of it built during
Sophie Dorothea's residence at Ahlden. We saw the
organ which the Princess gave to the church, which
bears the inscription —
Presented by h.s.h. the Duchess Sophie Dorothea,
1721;
and we were pointed out the place which she was
said to have occupied when she attended divine worship,
a wooden pew in the second gallery. Most authorities

trbe prisoner of Hblben 581
say that she was never permitted to enter the church,
and a minister attended her in the castle ; but local
tradition contradicts this statement, the truth probably
being that at first she was not permitted, but when
the stringency of her prison rules was relaxed a little
she was allowed to attend public worship. It is said
that she was conducted to and from the church,
only a few yards from the castle gate, by an escort.
She was not allowed to walk about the village, only
in the castle garden, which is very small, hardly
larger than a prison yard, and bounded on the one side
by the Aller, and on the other by the moat and
marsh. She was permitted to drive a distance of
six miles from the castle, along a certain road to the
west. There Is a stone bridge on the way to Hayden
which marked the six miles' limit of the drive. The
Princess was never aUowed to cross this bridge, nor
could she drive along any other road but this. Thus
far and no farther could she go ; this way and none
other for thirty years. How tired she must have got
of it ! When the weather was fine she drove herself
in a cabriolet, and when It was cold, or wet, she was
driven in a closed carriage. She was always accom
panied by a lady-in-waiting and a guard of soldiers.
She was fond of driving very fast, and would tear
furiously up and down the road, which she would
traverse many times.
" Local tradition among the peasants of Ahlden
still hands down the picture of the mysterious great
lady of the castle, always beautifully dressed, and with
diamonds gleaming in her dark hair, galloping up and

582 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
down the road, followed by an escort of cavalry
with drawn swords.
" The village ot Ahlden has to-day some thousand
inhabitants. The oak trees and red-tiled roofs give
it the appearance of a Hampshire village, but the
country around is like Norfolk at Its flattest and
dreariest. The viUage is made up of three or four
irregular streets, two or three beerhouses, and a large
school. The memory of the ' Duchess of Ahlden '
still lingers among the village folk ; they sell postcards
with her portrait on them, and speak with pity of
her fate.
" Certain authorities at Hanover warned me that
I should find absolutely nothing at Ahlden and my
visit would be a waste of time. On the contrary, I
found the place full of interest and rich in tradition.
Without seeing Ahlden it is impossible to realise the
utter loneliness of this poor lady's thirty-two years
of confinement there."
There were three governors at Ahlden during the
years of the Princess's captivity. The first, the
Seigneur de la Fortlere, a noble of CeUe, until 1702 ;
then Charles Augustus von Bothmer, a Hanoverian
noble, from 1702 to 1721 ; and Sigismund, Count
Bergest, from 1721 to 1726, the year of her death.
A certain George von Busche, a relative of the
President of the Divorce Court, held office in her
household, but not as governor ; also a Herr von
Marlortie, — they were probably gentlemen-in-waiting.
Among her ladies-in-waiting we have the names of

trbe prisoner of Hblben 583
Madame von Ilten, Madame von Marlortie, and
Madame von Arenswald.
When the Princess had settled down at Ahlden
certain concessions were granted to her to support
the theory of her being duchess of the place. She
was allowed, through an agent or deputy, the
administration of her property and of the Ahlden
territory. This extended for several miles, and
Included the towns of Retham and Walsrode and
certain custom-house stations on the Weser and Aller.
She was also given the nominal management of her
household, which was fairly numerous. It consisted
of one or two ladies-in-waiting, one or two gentlemen-
in-waiting, and two pages. Among the domestics were
two valets, fourteen footmen, twelve female servants,
three cooks, a confectioner and baker, and a butler.
There were also the Governor of the castle and the
escort of forty soldiers, cavalry and Infantry.
As time went on the Princess grew interested in
the management of her property and household,
and these things helped to pass many of her weary
hours. She also took the poor of the viUage under
her care, and did what she could to help them,
though she was not permitted to enter their cottages.
She interested herself in the viUage schools, and
the children used to come to her on their fete days
and receive from her hands prizes and little gifts.
Her name became a household word round the
country-side for kindness and benevolence, and for
works of pity and mercy. As Duchess of Ahlden
she was permitted some little state : she held a small
VOL. II. 16

584 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
levee on certain days, at which the local magnates,
clergy and nobility, with their wives, were wont to
attend ; but visitors were limited strictly to people
who Uved within her territory of Ahlden ; and the
Governor of the castle and the ladles- and gentlemen-
in-waltlng were always present at these receptions.
She was not permitted to return these visits.
The Princess was scrupulous In the observance of
religious duties ; she restored the church and enriched
it by various gifts. The parish minister acted as her
chaplain, and read prayers daily to the garrison and
household in the large dining-room aforesaid. The
Princess and her ladles listened in a room adjoining,
the door being left ajar. Her titular rank was
always outwardly respected, but she was subjected
to any number of petty and insulting restrictions.
She was never allowed to leave the casde at night
under any circumstances whatever ; her letters were
supervised, and every letter which came in and
went out of the castle was read. Despite this, she
carried on an active correspondence with her mother
and acquaintances, which gradually increased in
volume. Her great grievance during these early
years at Ahlden was that she was not permitted to
see her mother. The Duchess of Celle persistently
endeavoured to break through this rule, but the
Hanoverian government made such strong represent
ations to the Duke of Celle of the evils that would
follow, that, despite her tears and entreaties, she
could not gain permission. Even if the Duke had
wished to intervene, which may be doubted, Bernstorff

trbe prisoner of Hblben 585
was always on the alert to counteract the influence
of the Duchess. It was known that Duke Antony
Ulrich was in communication with the Duchess, and
warmly championed the cause of the Imprisoned
Princess, and the Hanoverian government feared,
or pretended to fear, that a new Intrigue would be
set on foot against them, and perhaps a new attempt
at flight.
The Princess, therefore, though treated with every
outward semblance of respect, remained a prisoner. At
first she was not allowed outside the castle gates ; but
her health suffering from the confinement, she was
granted another concession and permitted to take her
daily drives. Count Schulenburg-Klosterrode, in his
Herzogin von Ahlden quotes the following words
taken from the mouth of an old woman of Ahlden
named Marie Ratze, about the year 1800. This old
woman was then ninety-six years of age, had worked in
the Princess's apartments as chambermaid, and remem
bered her well. She says : " The Princess was of
middle height and rather stout, and during the first
years of her sojourn at Ahlden was exceedingly
beautiful. Her hair was jet black, and the diamonds,
which she never forgot to put In her hair when she
went out for her airings, shone with great brilliancy."
Thus we see how a generation or two spans the
intervening centuries.
Sophie Dorothea had inherited from her mother
the Frenchwoman's love of dress, and all through the
years of her imprisonment she took pleasure In
devising and wearing elaborate toUettes, and in decking

586 trbe Xove of an tllncrowneb diueen
herself with jewels, though there was no one to see
them but her little household and the fe'w local
magnates round about. This would go to prove that
her thoughts were not so detached from the world
as some of her chroniclers untruly assert. On the
contrary, from the beginning of her Imprisonment
to the day of her death, she took a keen Interest in
all that was going on in the world outside, and
kept herself remarkably well Informed of contemporary
events not only in Hanover and Celle, but in England
and the Courts of Europe. Yet all the while she
was politicaUy dead, and, her father being set against
her and her mother powerless, the only way she could
hope to recover her position was through her children ;
but her piteous appeals and oft-repeated prayers to be
allowed to see them were always refused, nor was
she permitted to carry on an open correspondence
with them, though later she was able to smuggle
communications through secretly.
When at last the Princess realised, in her soUtary
Ahlden, that though granted an allowance and a
separate establishment on her father's territory as
stipulated, it was the intention of her enemies to
keep her a prisoner, perhaps for Ufe, she saw too
late the trap into which she had fallen, and she
continually petitioned the Elector Ernest Augustus
for her freedom ; nor did she cease to struggle
for liberty till the day of her death. In the early
part of her captivity she was pacified by being told
that she would probably get what she wanted by
quietly submitting to the wiU of the Elector for a

trbe prisoner of Hblben 587
time, and she was reminded that he had always been
as indulgent towards her as circumstances would
allo\,. She acted on this hint and submitted
to the very letter of the law, however much she
rebelled against it in spirit. So far did she carry
this submission, that one night when a fire broke out
in her wing of the castle, which she was forbidden
to leave after sunset on any pretext whatever, she
was seen pacing up and down the corridor almost
frantic with terror, her jewel-box under her arm,
yet refusing to quit the wing, in spite of the
encroaching flames, without a signed order from the
Governor. She was assured that her good behaviour
would bring its reward.
Thus passed the first three years of the Princess's
captivity at Ahlden — three years of hope deferred.
Even her mother counseUed patience, and wrote that
things were working In her favour, when suddenly
their hopes were dashed to the ground by the death
of the Elector Ernest Augustus, which took place
in January, 1698. Ernest Augustus had been suffer
ing from ill-health for years, and his death was not
altogether unexpected. He was an able ruler and
an astute politician, and under his rule Hanover
grew and prospered, and was raised from the obscurity
of a dukedom to the dignity of an electorate. His
failings were a lack of straightforwardness, a love of
display, and allowing himself to be ruled by mistresses,
notably by the notorious Countess Platen. But
his Court was brilliant, he was good-natured and
open-handed to a fault, and his subjects infinitely

588 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
preferred him to the sullen and niggardly ruler who
succeeded. But George Louis, now the Elector
George, was strong where his father was weak, and
from the first he made it clear that he would have
no petticoat interference in politics. He retained
Count Platen nominally as his Prime Minister, but he
took the management of affairs into his own hands.
He gave the Countess Platen to understand that
her day was over, and the ex-mistress retired In
dudgeon to Monplalsir, and there, suffering torments
from disease, she dragged out the remaining years
of her Infamous life.
Another and more iUustrious lady also found her
position much impaired by the Elector's death.
This was none other than the Electress Sophia, who
during the last few years had been steadily gaining
power and influence. The Elector George disliked
his mother, who had opposed him in the primo
geniture, and would not suffer from her the slightest
interference In State affairs. He relegated her to
Herrenhausen, gave her a mean allowance, and even
neglected to pay her the proper honour and respect
to which she was entitled as his mother and as
Electress-Dowager, and which her age, rank, and
high character undoubtedly demanded. The proud
spirit of the old Electress felt these slights keenly,
but she was too wise to resent them openly, and
she betook herself once more to the consolations of
philosophy and to watching her prospects in England,
which, since the birth of Anne's son, the litde
Duke ot Gloucester, had not been of the rosiest.

trbe prisoner of Hblben 589
Even here she was molested by her son, who per
sistently meddled in her EngUsh schemes. But one
consolation at least was hers — the daughter of "the
little clot of dirt " would never take precedence of her
as Electress at the Hanoverian Court, and Sophia deter
mined that nothing she could do should be left undone
to keep her daughter-in-law safely shut up in Ahlden.
The Elector George, though he differed from his
mother in most things, was at one with her as
to this. He knew the divorce was of doubtful
legality and might any day be upset by a revision,
so he confirmed it by declaring his resolve to act
strictly upon the letter of the agreement signed by
his father and the Duke of Celle : he would not
permit his wife to assume the title of Electress, and
he reaffirmed the order that she was always to be
styled the Duchess of Ahlden. Thus her husband's
accession to the Electoral dignity made no difference
to the rank and position of Sophie Dorothea, but It
made a great deal of difference to her chances of
freedom. The new Elector hated his cast-off wife
with sullen vindictiveness, whereas the old Elector
had only been harsh to her from motives of policy,
and because he was instigated by her enemies. The
Elector George determined from the first to maintain
the existing arrangement — a very convenient one for
him, and he had no desire to see his wife back again.
He was happy in the society of his Ermengarda
Melusina, whose temper was always equable, who
meddled not in politics, and who only thought of en
riching herself. He also found variety In the society

590 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
of the other mistresses whom he added from time
to time to his unattractive harem.
Four years of captivity (one at Lauenau and three
at Ahlden) had now brought Sophie Dorothea to
a more reasonable frame of mind. She regretted
bitterly her lost freedom, and she was now as eager
to return to the world as she had once been to
retire from it. So anxious was she to see her
children, that she was willing for their sake to
humble herself to her enemies. She was not always
quite consistent. When the tidings of the death of
Ernest Augustus reached her, probably urged by her
mother, she wrote the following letters, which are stIU
preserved in the Hanoverian Archives :
" Ahlden, January 29, 1698.
" To the Elector George Louis.
" Monsieur, — I have the honour to write to
Your Highness to assure you that I take a real share in
your grief at the death of the Elector your father,
and I pray God that He may console you, that He
may bless your reign with His most precious favours,
and that He may console Your Highness with every
form of prosperity. These are prayers that I shall
make every day of my life for you, and I shaU
always regret having displeased you. I beg you to
grant me pardon for my past faults, as I stiU entreat
you herewith on my knees with all my heart. My
sorrow for them is so keen and so bitter that I
cannot express it. The sincerity of my repentance
should obtain pardon from Your Highness ; and if

trbe prisoner of Hblben 59^
to crown your favour you would permit me to see
and embrace our children, my gratitude for such
longed-for favours would be infinite, as I desire
nothing so earnestly as this, and I should be content
to die afterwards. I send a thousand prayers for
your preservation and good health, and am,
" Submissively and respectfully, Monsieur,
" Your Highness's most humble and obedient servant,
"Sophie Dorothea."
" Ahlden, January 29, 1698.
" To the Electress Sophia.
" Madame, — It is my duty as well as my
pleasure to assure Your Highness that there is no one
who takes more share than I do in your grief at the
death of the Elector your consort. I pray God with
all my heart, Madame, that He will console you and
keep you for many years to come In all prosperity
and good health. I beg of you once again to pardon
me for everything that I have done to incur your
displeasure and to take some interest in me with
the Elector your son. I implore you to grant me the
pardon that I so earnestly long for and to permit
me to embrace my children. And I long also to
kiss Your Highness' hands before I die. If you
would grant me this favour I should be filled with
gratitude. I beg you to do me the honour to believe
that nothing equals the infinite respect with which
I remain, Madame,
" Your Highness's most humble and obedient servant,
" Sophie Dorothea."

592 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
No reply was vouchsafed to these piteous appeals.
The sullen Elector never mentioned his wife's name,
and the Electress Sophia dismissed the prayer with
angry scorn. Seeing that no hope was to be expected
from that quarter, the Princess wrote to her mother,
and besought her to seize the opportunity afforded
by the change of government to effect some ameli
oration of her unhappy lot, or at least to prevent
it from becoming harder. The Duchess of Celle made
strong representations to the Duke, and earnestly
pleaded that their child might no longer be kept
In imprisonment. But the Duke could do nothing
of himself, even If he would, as It would involve
a breach of the agreement arrived at four years ago
with the Hanoverian government ; yet he relented
so far as to give his wife permission to go and see
her daughter at Ahlden, and the new Elector, who
had his own reasons for wishing to be on good terms
with his uncle, did not venture to do more than
protest. A good deal of capital has been made out
of the fact that the Elector George gave the Duchess
of Celle leave to visit her daughter, but In reality
his permission was not asked ; the Duke of Celle
granted it on his own initiative, and the order was
never afterwards revoked. All the other mitigations
of the Princess's lot were effected before the old
Elector's death. Backed by the Electress Sophia,
the new Elector flatly refused to grant his wife
the slightest indulgence.
We may imagine with what joy the imprisoned
Princess hailed her mother's visits. After four long

trbe prisoner of Hblben 593
years they met again, and were able to exchange
confidences and take counsel together. But it was
too late to effect much. The Duchess had lost all
political power and the Princess's imprisonment had
now become an accepted fact; nothing they could
say, and nothing they could do, availed against the
vindictive hatred of the Court of Hanover.
Shortly after this concession Sophie Dorothea's heart
was rejoiced by the news of the escape of her faithful
friend, Eleonore Knesebeck, from the fortress of
Schwartzfels, where she had been confined the last
four years. Knesebeck's escape was little short of
miraculous. For a long time no one knew where
she was Imprisoned, and her disappearance seemed
almost as mysterious as KOnigsmarck's ; but at last
her sister at Brunswick, Frau von Maitsch, received
intelligence that she was a prisoner at Schwartzfels,
and set on foot a plan for her release. The poor
Knesebeck had been made to suffer great hardships.
She was imprisoned in one small cell in the tumble
down fortress, which she was never permitted to leave,
given the coarsest food, and was waited on by one old
woman. At last the roof of her prison partly gave
way, and a tiler was instructed to repair It. This
tiler turned out to be a friend in disguise, and one
night he let down a rope, which Knesebeck tied
round her waist ; she was then puUed up through the
hole in the roof and lowered down the prison walls.
She had a long drop, for the rope was too short ; but
she managed to regain her feet, and fled with aU speed
to Wolfenbiittel, where she received a warm welcome.

594 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
Her first steps were to petition for the restitution
of her property and bear testimony again to the inno
cence of herself and her mistress. The Hanoverian
government were much perturbed by the escape of their
prisoner, and gave orders that the Princess at Ahlden
was to be watched more strictly than ever. Inquiries
were made at Schwartzfels to discover how Knesebeck
had escaped, and her vacant cell was carefuUy searched.
It was found that the unfortunate Fraulein had passed
her days in writing with charcoal on the whitewashed
waUs of her prison, her blessings and curses, complaints
and consolations. These writings were copied for
the Hanoverian Privy Council and form very quaint
reading ; they are stiU preserved In the Archives at
Hanover. We have first of all Inventories of the con
fiscated property of the imprisoned lady, for which she
afterwards put in a claim, and then a large number of
utterances as to her wrongs, and asking to know
why she was Imprisoned. " I imagine," she says,
"it Is on account of the Princess. The Hanoverian
government must have committed a great wrong, as
they want to stop my mouth ; for If they can be
responsible to the whole world for what they have
done to the Princess, may I not speak too ? 'If she
be rightly judged, how should I dare to speak un
truthfully — I, a poor, miserable girl — against an Elector ?
If he be acting justly, how could I speak wrongfuUy ?
Is he not powerful enough to repress a thousand
girls like me ? What is the meaning of the Govern
ment stopping my mouth ? what are they afraid of
my saying ? It is clear from this they must have

trbe prisoner of Hblben 59s
committed a great injustice, and so they choke and
repress me with force that their -injustice may not
be brought to light." She repeatedly laid stress on
the fact that four crimes were laid to her charge.
" I am so Important in the eyes of the Hanoverian
councillors that they have broken the Fifth, Seventh,
Eighth, and Ninth Commandments on my account :
the Fifth in that they try to kill my body and soul
by cruelty ; the Seventh by kidnapping me ; the
Eighth by laying four false crimes to my charge ;
and the Ninth by stealing my property." But neither
her prayers in prison, nor her clamourings when out
of it, induced the Hanoverian government to make
her any restitution, though the Duchess of Celle
helped her all In her power, and she found a warm
champion in Duke Antony Ulrich. She lived for
several years at Brunswick and Wolfenbuttel, and
was later taken into the service of Sophie Dorothea's
daughter, the Queen of Prussia. She never married,
and died as she had lived, protesting her mistress's
Innocence and her own.

CHAPTER XXVII
THE FLIGHT OF YEARS
(1698— 1714)
The moving Finger writes, and having writ
Moves on ; nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
Omar Khayyam.
THE next few years brought no further relief
to the prisoner of Ahlden, though the Duchess
of Celle was regular in her visits and did everything
to carry consolation to the captive. Sophie Dorothea
had frequent news of her children, for they were
often at Celle, and their grandmother Eleonore
did not fail to impress them with a sense of their
mother's wrongs. It seems their secret sympathies
were with their imprisoned mother, whom they were
never permitted to see, nor at Hanover even to
mention her name. Duke George William was
extravagantly fond of his grandson George Augustus,
and often took him with him on his hunting expe
ditions. The old Duke gave the boy much good
advice, which young George sometimes forgot to
follow ; but he always remembered his grandfather
with affection and respect. 596

trbe jfligbt of Iffears 597
Many years later, when he was George II. of
England, babbling reminiscences by the bedside of
his dying consort Caroline, Lord Hervey relates that,
"he said that the Duke of Zelle was fond of him,
but had often told him, as well as he loved him, if
he ever found him guilty of a base action, and that
he should prove a liar or a coward, he would shoot
him through the head with his own hand." ^
George Augustus must have been a lovable youth,
and his early portraits show him to have been very like
his mother, especially in his large, almond-shaped eyes.
About this time he made a determined effort to see
his mother. The story goes that one day when he
was hunting in the woods near Luisburg, he stole
away from the rest of the party, and, laying spurs
to his horse, rode at full speed In the direction of
Ahlden. His suite, missing the Prince and guessing
his intention, gave pursuit, and eventually caught him
up in a wood near Reitlagen, some four miles from
the castle. Another version says that the Prince
managed to get as far as Ahlden, and actually beheld
his mother, who waved to him from the window.
The Governor of the casde refused him admission,
and he then sought to gain an entrance by swimming
across the Aller. In either case his suite followed him,
and, on his refusing to return, conducted the Prince
back to Hanover under compulsion.
His escapade was visited by the Elector's heavy
displeasure, and the young George's partisanship
of his mother was probably the beginning of bad
' Lord Hervei's Memoirs, vol. ii.

598 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
blood between father and son, for they were frequently
quarrelling, and came to hate one another with an
Intense hatred. " // est fougeux, mais il a du cceur," said
the Elector George once of his son, and certainly
his effort to see his mother would seem to bear
out his father's estimate of his character.
In April, 1700, events took a turn, which, under
favourable circumstances, might have resulted in the
Princess's liberty, and actually gained her the one
respite in her thirty-two years' captivity. The fall
of the Principality of Ahlfeld, and the nearness of
the French troops to Ahlden, gave the Duchess of
Celle the opportunity she was longing for, and she
implored her husband to bring the Princess to Celle,
where she would be out of danger. It was a pretext
merely, for there was no real danger, and even if
there had been, Sophie Dorothea would doubtless
have been glad for the French to have broken into
her prison house and have taken her as a captive
of war. It would at least have varied the monotony
of her existence, and the change might have been
for the better; it could hardly have been for the
worse. Despite difficulties raised by Bernstorff and the
Elector George, George WiUiam was prevailed upon to
grant his wife's prayer ; but he had to stipulate that
his daughter should be confined to one wing of the
Castle of Celle, and he refiised to see her. So one
April day the gates of Ahlden were thrown open,
and the Princess was escorted over the moorland to
Celle. Every care was taken to prevent a popular

PRINCE GEORGE AUGUSTUS OF HANOVER. [To face p. s^i.
{Later George II. of Englaiul.)

trbe jfligbt of l^ears 599
demonstration. She arrived In the dead of the night,
and was conducted at once to her apartments In
the old part of the Schloss, which she had occupied
as a child and during her unhappy married life
on her visits to her parents. Here the Princess
remained for nearly a year, a prisoner In her father's
house, studiously avoiding any breach of the rules
laid down, and seeking by good behaviour to soften
the hearts of her gaolers. The possibiUty of any
danger from the French soon passed away. Still the
Princess lingered at Celle, and though orders came
from Hanover that she was to be sent back to
Ahlden they were not obeyed. The Duchess inter
vened, and sometimes on the plea of iU-health and
sometimes on other pretexts she kept her daughter
with her.
At last, however, the pressure from Hanover
was so strong that the Princess was forced to leave
Celle without having spoken to her father, though she
had been nearly a year under his roof She returned
to Ahlden, and her one golden chance of liberty was
gone for ever. The good folk of CeUe were loud
in favour of their beloved Princess, and got up noisy
demonstrations ; but all to no purpose. Nothing-
availed against the pitiless hatred of the Elector
George and the Electress Sophia.
The following extracts from letters written by the
Duchess d'Orleans to the Electress Sophia bear upon
this incident :
July 29, 1700. — "The Duchess of CeUe has lost
no time in having her daughter brought to Celle.
VOL. II. 17

6oo trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
I should think that her father must be very much
embarrassed about the matter, for it will grieve him
to send his daughter away again without seeing her,
and yet the honour of the House does not permit
him to let her remain at Celle, and there is the fear
that the Elector would take it Ul."
August 8, 1700. — "I should like to know if
the Elector will aUow the Duchess of Ahlden to
remain at Celle or if he will send her back to
Ahlden again. I hear that the Princess leads a very
solitary life, but all the same she is splendidly dressed,
and when she takes a walk on the ramparts at Celle she
always covers her face with a veil. I fancy she hopes
to touch the heart of her husband by her decorous
life, so that he may take her as his wife again."
August 26, 1700. — "I hear that the Duchess
of CeUe has received orders to send her daughter
back to Ahlden, but they have not been carried out.
The people of Celle are not to be blamed for
lamenting on account of their Princess, but her father
deserves praise for exhibiting such firmness."
While the Princess was at Celle an event occurred
in England pregnant with consequences to the future
of the House of Hanover, and it might perhaps
have contributed indirectly to the Elector's deter
mination to send his wife back to Ahlden. The
heir-presumptive to the Throne of England, Anne's
sickly little son, the Duke of Gloucester, died in July,
1 700. Henceforth, for practical poUtics, the succession
lay between the direct line of the exiled and Roman
Catholic House of Stuart, and the remote line of the

trbe jfligbt of l^ears 601
Protestant House of Hanover.^ The Hanoverian
succession was viewed with little favour In England,
at best it was a last resort ; but the failing health
of King William, the impossibility of Anne having
any more children, and the determination not to
restore a Roman Catholic to the throne, made it
imperative that the nation should do something to
settle the succession. In the autumn of 1700 the
Electress Sophia, accompanied by her daughter the
Electress of Brandenburg, paid a visit to King
William at Loo. The ostensible reason of the
Electress's visit was to gain his aid in elevating
the Electorate of Brandenburg to the kingdom of
Prussia (which took place a little later) ; but of
course English people saw in it a move in the
direction of Sophia's succession to the throne of
England. The Electress seems to have felt, as every
one felt then, that events were working In favour of
the royal exUes at St. Germains ; but King William,
who hated Anne more than all the exiled House
of Stuart put together, urged the Electress Sophia
to assert herself In some way in opposition to the
Princess Anne. The wily old lady discreetly declined,
and even suggested that the King should come to
terms with the expatriated Prince of Wales. She
' The next in blood, after the children of James IL, was the Duchess
of Savoy, daughter of Henrietta, Duchess d'Orleans (a daughter of
Charles I.), and then the fainily of Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia
(daughter of Jaraes I.); but all these, save the Electress Sophia, were
Roman Catholics. It is interesting to note that the lineal descendant
of Charles I., through the Duchess of Savoy, is Mary, Consort of the
present Prince Regent of Bavaria.

6o2 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
would not stand in her own light, but short of
that she was a Jacobite. Her suggestion had the
effect of enraging William. He turned his back on
her and left for England the next day. So the
Electress had to return crestfaUen to Hanover.
Nevertheless William, on thinking the matter over,
acted upon Sophia's hint, and, inspired by his hatred
of Anne, made a formal offer to King James to adopt
the young Prince of Wales, bring him over to England,
and make him his successor. This policy was only
possible if the Prince would change his religion ;
but even if he had been willing to do so, which he
was not, it had no chance. The offer was rejected with
scorn by King James. He would make no terms with
the usurper. Stung by this contemptuous rejection,
WiUiam once more took up the wild idea of making
the Electress Sophia his successor to the exclusion of
his detested sister-in-law Anne ; but the old Electress
knew that she had no chance against Anne, and was far
too astute to listen to any such proposal. If it were
only a question of Anne's life, Sophia, or her son, would
not have long to wait, for Anne's health was notoriously
bad, and her life was worth little more than William's.
Foiled in this direction, the King had no alternative
but to push on the Act of Parliament which settled
the succession of the Crown of England on the
Electress Sophia and the heirs of her body, being
Protestants, after the death of himself and of Anne
without heirs. This Act, known as the BiU of
Succession, was passed by both Houses without much
opposition, and became law in the summer of 1701.

QUEEN ANNK.

[To face p.0o2.

trbe ifligbt of J^ears 603
As William was desirous of gaining the support of
the Elector George Louis to a grand alliance he
was then meditating, he made the passing of the
Act an occasion to pay special honour to the Electoral
House. He dispatched Lord Macclesfield to Hanover
charged with the mission of delivering a copy of the
Act to the Electress Sophia, and of Investing her son
with the Order of the Garter. The selection of Lord
Macclesfield was doubtless due to the fact that he was
" some sort of a relation " of the Electress Sophia's
mother, Elizabeth, daughter of James I., through
whom the succession came to the House of Hanover.
His mission was a curious compromise between the
official and unofficial. He was not given any appella
tion as plenipotentiary or envoy, yet he took with
him a numerous and splendid suite, Including the
Irish traveller, Toland, to whose lively pen we are
indebted for an account of this mission.
Whatever indifference the Electress Sophia and her
son may have feigned towards the splendid prospects
opening out before them. It vanished when the news
came that Lord Macclesfield had actually set out from
England. He was met on the frontier of the Electorate
by the ministers and chief officials of the Electoral
Court, and escorted with great pomp to Hanover,
where a reception of unparaUeled magnificence was
accorded to him. He and every member of his suite,
down to the very valets, were treated with profuse
liberality, and lodged and entertained in the most
sumptuous manner. Had Macclesfield been WilUam
himself he could not have been entertained more royally.

6o4 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
A banquet was held over-night, and the next day,
the proudest day of the Electress Sophia's life, Lord
Macclesfield formally presented her with the Act of
Succession and Invested her son with the insignia of the
Garter. The Electress Sophia gave him her portrait,
surmounted by the electoral crown In diamonds, and
the Elector George gave him a gold basin and ewer.
The chaplain of the mission. Dr. Sandys, presented
many prayer books to the Electress, which she did not
use, and she rewarded him with many books in return
and a gold snuff-box. All the suite were likewise
given souvenirs, and they returned to England with
wonderful tales of the liberality of the Hanoverian
Court, which they represented as a land flowing with
milk and honey.
From that day forward the little German town
became the goal of many political and military
adventurers from England, who turned their eyes
from the setting sun of St. Germains to the rising
orb of Hanover. Nor were the fair adventuresses
one whit behind. Many made haste from England
to Hanover with the idea of enslaving the Elector
or his son, notably the beautiful Mrs. Howard, who
was so poor that she cut off her beautiful hair
and sold it to pay the cost of the journey. The
sacrifice did not pass unrewarded, for she ultimately
became Lady Suffolk and mistress of George II.
The description which Toland, writing later to the
EngUsh minister In Holland, gave of these festivities
may be quoted here. Speaking of the Electress
Sophia he says :

trbe ffligbt of lears 605
" The Electress is three and seventy years old,
which she bears so wonderfuUy weU that had I not
many vouchers I should not dare venture to relate it.
She has ever enjoyed extraordinary health, which
keeps her still very vigorous, of a cheerful countenance,
and a merry disposition. She steps as firm and as
erect as any young lady, has not one wrinkle in her
face — which is still very agreeable — not one tooth out
of her head, and reads without spectacles, as I have
often seen her do, letters of a small character in the
dusk of the evening. She is as great a worker as our
late Queen [Mary], and you cannot turn yourself in
the palace without meeting some monument of her
industry, aU the chairs in the presence chamber
being wrought with her own hands. The ornaments
of the altar in the electoral chapel are all of her
work. She bestowed the same favour on the Protestant
Abbey, or College, of Lockurn, with a thousand other
incidents fitter for your lady to know than for your
self. She is the most constant and greatest walker I
ever knew, never missing a day, if It proves fine, for
one or two hours and even more In the fine garden
at Herrenhausen. She perfectly tires all those of
her Court who attend her in that exercise and such
as have the honour to be entertained by her discourse.
She has been long admired by aU the learned world
as a woman of incomparable knowledge In divinity,
philosophy, history, and the subjects of all sorts of
books, of which she has read a prodigious quanrity.
She speaks five languages so weU that by her accent
it might be a dispute which of them was her first ;

6o6 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
they are Low Dutch, German, French, Italian, and
EngUsh, which last she speaks as truly and easily
as any native, which to me is a matter of amazement,
whatever advantages she might have in her youth by
the conversation of her mother. . . . But indeed the
Electress is so entirely English In her presence, in her
behaviour, in her humour, in all her inclinations, that
naturally she could not miss of anything that peculiarly
belongs to our land. She was ever glad to see
Englishmen long before the Act of Succession ; she
professes to admire our form of government, and
understands it mighty weU. Yet she asks so many
questions about families, customs, laws, and the like
as sufficiently demonstrate her profound wisdom and
experience. She has a deep veneration for the Church
of England, without losing any affection or charity
for any other sort of Protestants, and appears charmed
with the moderate temper of our present Bishops and
that of our learned clergy, especially for their appro
bation of the liberty allowed by law to Protestant
Dissenters. ... I was the first to have the honour
of kneeling and kissing her hand on account of the
Act of Succession, and she said among other discourse
that she was afraid the nation had already repented
their choice of an old woman, but she hoped that
none of her posterity would give England any reason
to grow weary of their dominion. I answered that the
English had too well considered what they did to
change their mind so soon, and they still remember
they were never so happy as when they were last
under a woman's government,"

trbe ifligbt of J^ears 607
Making allowance for courtly flattery, it must be
admitted that the Electress Sophia was a remarkable
old woman ; but our faith in the strict veracity of
Toland is somewhat shaken when he proceeds to
describe the Elector George as a " proper, middle-
sized, well-proportioned man of gentle address and
good appearance ; but His Highness Is reserved, and
therefore speaks Uttle, but judiciously. I hope,"
adds Toland, " that none of our countrymen will
be so injudicious as to think his reservedness the effect
of sullenness or pride ; nor mistake that for State
which really proceeds from modesty, caution, and
deliberation." This is bad enough, but our belief
is still more tried when he goes on to describe the
two hideous mistresses of this Hanoverian Solomon
— Madame Kielmansegge as a " woman of sense and
wit," and Madame Schulenburg as " especially worthy
of the rank she enjoys, and in the opinion of others
as well as myself a lady of extraordinary merit."
After this there is nothing more to be said 1
Of poor Sophie Dorothea, who had now gone back
to her dreary captivity at Ahlden, Toland has not
a word to say, though he must have known of her
existence ; nor had she, " the genuine wife," as Horace
Walpole calls her, any share In her husband's new
and growing honours.
Soon after the delivery of the Act of Succession
old King James died at St. Germains, and his son
declared himself determined to walk in his father's
faith, which was all In favour of the Hanoverian
succession and the Electress Sophia. England and

6o8 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
English affairs now absorbed her wholly, and she had
neither time nor inclination to think about Sophie
Dorothea. The Duchess of Celle kept up an
agitation in her daughter's favour, but the Electoral
Court was inflated with its English prospects and took
no heed. Nothing was gained that affected the
principle of the agreement arranged before the divorce.
We find the Duchess d'Orleans writing to her aunt :
December 24, 1702. — "As the Duchess of Ahlden
often sees her mother and other ladles, and can also
go for drives, she is not so much to be pitied."
And this was doubtless the view of the Electress
Sophia, who would have kept her even a closer prisoner
If she could.
The death of William III. and the accession of
Anne to the throne of England brought the Electress
Sophia one step nearer to her coveted goal, and she
became " the heiress of Great Britain," as she loved
to describe herself. But Anne had no love for her
" heiress " and kept her at arm's length. The
Duchess of Celle, who had heard of Anne's dislike
of her Hanoverian relatives and of her kindness
of heart, seized the opportunity to place the sad
case of her daughter before the powerful Queen of
England. She wrote beseeching her to use her in
fluence on behalf of the imprisoned Princess.^ After
some time an answer came — what it was history sayeth
not. It is probable that Queen Anne did not send
' The letter dated September 20, 1702, is said to be in the State
Paper Office, but I cannot find it, though mention is made by Cresset
of a letter from the Duchess of Celle to Queen Anne, and he writes to
the Foreign Mimster at home for an answer.

trbe jfliQbt of l^ears 609
an absolute refusal, but promised to give the matter
her consideration. This promise, it would seem,
she kept, and she did what she could, for we find
the Duchess d'Orleans writing two years afterwards
to the Electress Sophia :
November 30, 1704. — "They say in Paris Lord
Marlborough intends to travel to Hanover and do
his best to bring about a reconciliation between the
Duchess of Ahlden and the Elector, and he proposes
to offer his daughter In marriage to the Prince
[George Augustus]."
If Marlborough really undertook this deUcate
mission, it had little or no effect. The Princess
would not have bought her liberty at the price of
cohabiting again with her husband, and It may be
doubted if the Elector would have had her back
on any terms. With two natures so stubborn even
the diplomacy of Marlborough could have effected
nothing. The following year, 1705, the Princess's chances
of liberty received what must be considered their
final blow in the death of her father. Of late years
the old Duke had manifested considerable interest in
his daughter, and had talked of going to see her ; but
Bernstorff had thrown such obstacles in the way, and
had drawn such a picture of the Electoral displeasure
and the difficulties which this meeting would surely
create with Hanover, that the ease-loving Duke gave
way and postponed his visit. But he returned to
the subject ever and anon, and that his heart had
softened towards his only child is manifest from a

6 TO trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
codlcU which he added to his wiU dated January
26, 1705, which materiaUy benefited the Princess,
and made her the residuary legatee of his large
fortune. The same day the Duchess of Celle also
made a will, with the approval of her husband, which
provided that the " Duchess of Ahlden " should
inherit at her death a sum of sixty thousand thalers
deposited In the banks of the Hague and Amsterdam,
also the estate of Olbreuse in Poitou, the mansion
of Wienhausen, and all her jewellery, furniture, and
plate. She also left her an income of three thousand
thalers a year from another estate.
The combined effect of these wills was to make
the prisoner of Ahlden one of the richest heiresses
in Europe. Both her father and her mother must
have had in mind her eventual liberty, as it would
have been a mere mockery to have left her this wealth
and have kept her shut up In Ahlden, where she could
not spend it, and where her income was already In
excess of her needs. The old Duke at last seemed
determined to do what he could to repair the in
justice done to his daughter, and when the wills
were signed he announced his determination of
going to see her. He was now in his seventieth
year and his strength was fast faUing ; he wished
to be reconciled to his only chUd before he died.
This natural and laudable desire Bernstorff opposed
as long as he dared, but seeing the Duke's mind
was made up, he changed his tactics and merely
advised him to postpone his visit until after a
shooting expedition on which he was bent. The

trbe jfliQbt of l^ears 6ii
delay, as the minister hoped, proved fatal ; the Duke
caught a chiU, which he tried to remedy by taking
the waters of Wienhausen, and he foUowed this
drastic cure even after he had taken to his bed.
Foley, who had now succeeded Cresset as English
envoy, writes :
" That which contributed to his distemper was
the taking the waters in bed, and, being in a
sweat, he was so Impatient as to rise in his shirt
and open the windows, by which he got a great
cold, which threw him into the colik and took away
his stomach. ... I forgot to mention y* worse
symptoms which attended y* Duke of Zelle's dis
temper in the beginning was a hyccop, which
continues, and he vomits all he takes." ^
The " hyccop " proved fatal. The Duke died
ten days later, and was universally mourned by his
subjects. He was of a singularly upright and straight
forward character, always a true friend, generous
and kind-hearted ; but he was irresolute and easily
swayed, and possessed that vein of obstinacy often
found in weak characters. On this weakness the wily
Bernstorff played to the great benefit of Hanover
and to the detriment of the Duchess of Celle and
her daughter. Bernstorff was now rewarded for his
breach of trust by being raised to the rank of Count,
and a little later he succeeded old Platen as con
fidential minister to the Elector of Hanover.
The death of the Duke of Celle left his widow
and daughter at the mercy of their implacable foe
' Poley's Despatch, Hanover, August i8, 1705.

6i2 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
the Elector. The Duchess Eleonore could expect
no consideration, and her daughter no justice, from
their enemies at Hanover. With indecent haste the
widow was ordered to quit the Castle of CeUe and
withdraw to Wienhausen, which had been provided
for her under her husband's will. The whole of the
territory of Celle now became merged with that of
Hanover under the Elector George, whose power
and dignity were greatly enhanced thereby ; but the
" genuine wife," through whom aU this wealth came,
was still kept a prisoner at Ahlden, and to her
prayers and entreaties for freedom her husband
turned a deaf ear. All Sophie Dorothea now asked
was that she might be allowed to go and live
somewhere quietly with her widowed mother, and
permission afforded her to see her children. Both
requests were refused. It has been stated that
George greatly jlncreased the rigours of the Princess's
Imprisonment after her father's death ; there exists
no proof of this, but he may have cut her off from
attending public worship in the parish church and
have limited her drives. Her mother was still allowed
to visit her and did so until her death, but no new
concessions, not even the most trifling, were accorded.
The Elector took his stand on the agreement arrived
at before the divorce between his father and his
uncle, and it was rigidly maintained. The Princess
might as well have pleaded to a stone.
The same year that witnessed the death of Duke
George William saw also the decease of two of
the enemies of Sophic Dorothea. Sophia Charlotte,

trbe jfllgbt of l^ears 613
Queen of Prussia, better known in this book as the
Electress of Brandenburg, expired suddenly when on
a visit to Hanover. Some say she passed away with
an epigram on her lips, and others that she departed
in the true faith of a Chrlsdan. With such a conflict
of testimony, who shall say ? She had been brought
up " of no religion as yet," and she probably died In
the same frame of mind. Her aged mother mourned
her greatly.
A month later the Countess Platen died. Her last
years had been rendered a torment by a disease which
made her hideous to behold and deprived her of
sight. But, blind though she was, she nevertheless, as
Thackeray says, " constandy saw Konigsmarck's ghost
by her wicked old bed." She suffered torments of
remorse for her share In his death, and it is said
that she made a confession on her deathbed of the
part she had played In his murder. A document
purporting to come from her confessor has been
pubUshed, but there is no proof of its genuineness.
The bells at Hanover had scarcely ceased tolling
for the Duke of Celle's death, than they rang out a
merry peal for the marriage of Sophie Dorothea's
son, George Augustus, to Caroline of Anspach, after
wards the famous Queen Caroline of England. The
young Princess had been brought up at the Court
of Berlin under the wing of the Queen of Prussia.
She was beautiful, witty, and clever, and early sided
with her husband against his father ; but there is
nothing to show that she took the part of his per
secuted mother. The marriage of her son affected

6i4 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
in no way the fortunes of Sophie Dorothea, nor was
the event officially communicated to her. She was
not even aUowed to send him her good wishes on
his marriage.
About this time the English envoy, Poley, was
recaUed, and he sent home an interesting document,^
in which he gives a detailed account of the Electoral
family of Hanover. It Is, of course, written with
a courtly pen, with a view to possible eventualities,
and the description which he gives of the Electress
Sophia and the Elector, though more moderately
worded, is somewhat on the lines of that already
quoted from Toland. Unlike Toland, he could not
Ignore the existence of the prisoner of Ahlden, and
this is how he mentions her :
"The Elector was formerly married to a daughter
of the Duke of Zell, by whom he had one son
and one daughter, but was afterwards separated from
her ; since which time she hath lived at Ahlden,
of which she bears the title, in the country of Zell.
She hath a revenue appropriated to her, and of
which is In possession, and, as some have imagined,
may perhaps goe live with her mother at the town
of Liineburg, whither it is said that the Duchess-
Dowager of ZeU intends to retire."
The case could hardly be more diplomatically
worded ; the facts are correct, yet the Inference
they convey is wholly false. One would gather
' Still preserved in the State Paper OfSce. "Called Mr. Poley's
account of the House of Brunswick, etc., upon his return from being
Her Majesty's envoy at Hanover, November 9, 1705."

PRINCESS CAROLINE OF ANSPACH. [To face p. t\\.
{Afterivards Onccn Caroline, Consort of Gfurgc II.)

trbe jfligbt of l^ears 615
from this eflfiision that Sophie Dorothea was living
in dignified and voluntary retirement Instead of being
a prisoner in two smaU rooms, closely guarded, and
watched over by gaolers and spies. The following
account of her children from the same despatch Is
also of Interest :
"The Prince Electoral was born in the year
1683, and Is of middle stature, but seems of con
stitution less vigorous than his father. He hath
much witt and good humour in his conversation,
and hath all the inclinations suitable to his quality.
He was lately married to a Princess of the House
of Brandenburg-Anspach of the same age with
himself, and of so many good qualities and endow
ments as may promise much happiness to the
Family. " The Princess of Hanover, daughter of the
Elector, is of about eighteen years of age, and
something about middle stature and well shaped.
She hath much beauty and is of agreeable conversa
tion. Her marriage hath been talked of with the
King of Sweden, but I doe not know that it was
ever proposed. The Prince Royall of Prussia, her
couzen germane, is thought to have more inclination
for her than for anybody else, but It hath been
doubted If the King of Prussia would be willing to
consent to that marriage."
Poley's surmise that the Crown Prince Frederick
WiUiam of Prussia was in love with his cousin, the
young Sophie Dorothea, proved to be correct, for
though he had a " choice of three " he loved her above
VOL. II. 18

6i6 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
all others, and overcame his father's dislike to the
match. They were married in November, 1706, with
much ceremony, at Hanover, and soon after set
out for Berlin. The lonely mother at Ahlden heard
of her daughter's brilliant marriage In the same way
she had heard of her son's, through her mother ; but
she was not allowed to communicate with her, nor
was the Duchess-Dowager of Celle present at either
of the weddings. To the Electoral family Eleonore
had once more become " the d'Olbreuse," and was
treated accordingly. Her age, her grey hairs, her
bereavements, her powerlessness to do harm, made
no difference to the contempt and hatred with which
the Electress Sophia and her son pursued her. Her
grandchildren, however, took her part, and, though
they were powerless to help their mother, they pro
tected their grandmother from open insult. The
young Crown Princess of Prussia was now far away
from her mother and the centre of a briUiant Court,
yet the lonely captive at Ahlden contrived to enter
Into some sort of correspondence with her.
There was now a strong disposition on the part
of the Hanoverian Court to hush up aU mention
of Sophie Dorothea. The time was certainly favour
able : her father was dead, her mother powerless,
her children married ; she was without a friend on
earth. Why should she not be quietly buried in
her living tomb .'' But family skeletons are notoriously
hard things to hide ; they have a habit of popping
out whether we will or no, and Sophie Dorothea was
not a woman to be easily suppressed. She had come

trbe jfligbt of Jgears 617
to see that there was nothing to be gained by sub
mission, and henceforth she assumed more aggressive
tactics, filling the air with her cries, and beating her
wings against the bars of her cage In vain endeavour
for freedom. Poor woman ! It was vain to cry, and
she only bruised her bosom with her struggles ; but
one thing she achieved, — she saved herself from being
forgotten by the outside world. Her mother's old
friend, Duke Antony Ulrich, was especially indignant
at the way she was treated after her father's death
and at the Elector's refusal to allow her to go
and live quietly with her mother. Animated by hatred
of the House of Hanover, quite as much as by
sympathy for Sophie Dorothea, he resolved to give
the world the story of her wrongs. He was power
less to help her in any other way, but for this task
he was peculiarly fitted. Unlike most princes of his
age, he dabbled in literature and was a voluminous
and ready writer, the author of prose romances, poems,
and plays. He determined to turn his gifts to account
by elaborating the story of his much-wronged cousin,
which, indeed, would furnish material for any romance.
He had been working for some time at the Roman
Octavia, a series of episodes nominally taken from
the Roman emperors, into which he had Incorporated
many scenes and events of his own life and times
disguised by ancient names. He now devoted the
sixth, or supplementary, volume to the history ot
Sophie Dorothea. No doubt he was aided In thJs
by Eleonore von Knesebeck, who was then Uving-iit
Wolfenbiittel. ' '^^-''

6i8 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
The narrative so closely resembled what had
actually happened, that every one could penetrate
through the thinly veiled disguise of fictitious
names and learn the story of the injured Princess.
It was told in the form of dramatic dialogue,
with due regard to stage effect. Duke George
WUliam appears as King Polemon of Cappadocia ;
his Duchess is DInames, a Spanish Princess ; Ernest
Augustus Is Mythridates, King of Pontus. The
Electress Sophia, whom Antony Ulrich especially
hated. Is satirised under the name of Adonacris,
" who, as the sister of the great Indian king, gave
herself the airs of one of the mightiest princesses in
the world." George Louis figures as Prince Cotys,
a duU and brutal youth ; while Sophie Dorothea
appears as the Princess Solane, who for beauty and
riches had no rival in Asia. Konigsmarck figures as
.^quilius, one of the Roman lords at the Court of
the Incomparable Queen Adonacris. The Princess's
story is then told from the beginning : her early
marriage to the man she loathed, the cruelty with
which she was treated at the Court of Hanover, the
appearance of Konigsmarck, who had known her as
a child, and his passion for her. But the Princess
in the play is represented to be as virtuous as she
was beautiful, and she resisted her lover's advances
by every means In her power. The account of the
catastrophe is consequently modified to suit the
theory of the innocence of the Princess. It Is
stated that one of her Highness's ladles hid the
cavalier in her chamber, and then sent a message to

trbe ifligbt of l^ears 619
the Princess saying that she was ill. The Princess,
In compassion, came to see her, and as soon as
she entered the room the lover threw himself
at her feet. At this juncture the Prince, her husband,
appeared on the scene with a drawn sword ; the
Princess swooned, and the lover was hurried away,
never again to see the Ught. The Princess's pro
testations of Innocence were without avail, and as
appearances were against her a divorce was effected,
and she was consigned to prison, where she bore
her fate with dignity.
Such, In rough outline. Is the story of this work,
which had a great success. It was eagerly read in
every Court of Europe and continued to have a
large circulation far into the eighteenth century,
and even in the present century has formed the un
acknowledged source of many so-called " lives " of
Sophie Dorothea. The lonely prisoner of Ahlden
was one of the most talked-about women of her
generation. The secrecy and mystery surrounding
her only served to whet the public curiosity.
The Electress Sophia early obtained a copy of the
Octavia, and so did her niece, the Duchess d'Orleans.
We find her writing to her aunt :
July 25, 1708. — " I am going to read the
Octavia over again, as George Louis has been kind
enough to send me the key to it. Duke Antony
Ulrich makes Solane appear Innocent, but that is
only done to save the honour of the House. In all
matters his truth is mixed with a modicum of lies.
Cotys I consider cold, but not brutal. There is no

620 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
doubt that Solane was a coquette ; Lassaye has told
me plenty about that, so much that I have not the
slightest doubt about It. I was obUged to laugh,
when Duke Christian looks on it as an improvement
that she had at least stuck to one In particular. ... I,
however, find safety In numbers : one is dangerous,
as events have proved. I should Uke to know if
her husband has still any wish to see her, particularly
as they say she is still beautiful. It would be only right
for her mother to keep her company, for her bad up
bringing is the cause of all the daughter's misfortunes."
On this string, the bad upbringing, the Duchess
is always harping. Still, as the years went on, even
she could not forbear some pity for the imprisoned
woman. We find the following allusions in her
letters to her aunt, and they are about the only
authentic record we have of Sophie Dorothea during
these years :
October 27, 1709. — "It must grieve the Princess
deeply to know that her children are so near and not
to be able to see them ; I really feel sorry for her.
I should like to know if her children have any desire
to see her."
But apparently she repents of this pity, for the
next year we find this :
May 8, 17 10. — "That the Princess always sits
before her looking-glass may be excused her, and proves
that her nature is to coquette."
Two years later the correspondence between these
two remarkable women ceased for ever — the Electress
Sophia was dead. She died within sight of her

trbe dfligbt of l^ears 621
promised land. It chanced in this wise. Since the
Act of Succession, and more especiaUy since the
accession of Queen Anne, the Hanoverian family had
watched with keener and more personal interest the
progress of events in England. The Queen had
created the Elector George a Duke of the Blood
Royal, and had given him precedence over the entire
peerage, and the name of the Electress Sophia had
been inserted in the Church prayers. Later the
Electoral Prince, George Augustus, was created Duke
of Cambridge. But this was the extent of Queen
Anne's recognition. She was exceedingly jealous of
her Hanoverian relations, and she especially disliked
her old wooer, the Elector George. It would seem
that In her heart she yearned after her brother, the
exiled Prince of Wales ; but she was so vacillating,
and withal so timid, that it was impossible to
say what she really wished or did not wish, and
it may be doubted whether she knew herself. The
party in England which upheld the Protestant suc
cession had many agents at the Hanoverian Court.
As Queen Anne's health grew weaker and her favour
for her brother stronger, this party became much
alarmed, and repeatedly urged the advisability of
the Electress Sophia or her heirs making themselves
known to the people of England. But the Electress
could hardly go to England during Queen Anne's
lifetime without the Queen's invitation, though she
was " the heiress of Great Britain." She was very
old, and reluctant to move from her beloved Herren
hausen unless she should be summoned to England

62 2 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
as Queen. But she was strongly in favour of her
son or grandson going, and her supporters in England
were equally desirous. They petitioned the Elector
to come over and take his seat in the House of
Lords, or, if he could not come, at least the
Electoral Prince, George Augustus, might pay a visit
to England. The Whigs were ready to organise
demonstrations in favour of the House of Hanover,
and the Elector and Electoral Prince expressed them
selves as wiUing to go. The aged Electress Sophia
set her heart upon it above all things. The desire
of long years seemed near fruition ; the visit of
her son or grandson to the Court of England
would be the outward sign and symbol of what she
most yearned for. " I care not when I die. If on
my tomb it be recorded that I was Queen of Great
Britain and Ireland," said this dauntless old woman
of eighty ; and, despite her advanced age, there seemed
a likely prospect of her wish being granted, for
her health was better than Anne's. This remark
was repeated to the Queen, and greatly incensed her
against the Electress Sophia. A scribbler named
d'Urfey, wishing to curry favour with his Royal
mistress, wrote the following doggerel :
The crown's far too weighty
For shoulders of eighty,
She could not sustain such a trophy.
Her hand, too, already
Has grown so unsteady
She could not hold a sceptre.
So Providence kept her
Away. Poor old Dowager Sophy !

trbe jfligbt of l^ears 623
For this effusion d'Urfey received a fee of fifty
guineas from Anne. When the news of the pro
posed Hanoverian visit reached the Queen's ears, she
was beside herself with rage. It seemed to her an
attempt to snatch the crown from her grasp before
she was dead, and to force her hand In the matter
of the succession. Like a true Stuart, whatever
Parliament might say or do, she always felt the
crown of England was her own peculiar possession,
to bestow upon whom she would. As long as she
Uved she was determined that no Hanoverian prince
should set foot in her dominions. She therefore sat
down and penned strongly worded letters to the
Electress Sophia and the Elector George Louis. Her
letter to the Electress Sophia ran as follows :
To the Electress-Dowager of Brunswick-Liineburg,
" Madame, Sister, Aunt, — Since the right of suc
cession to my kingdom has been declared to belong
to you and your family, there have always been
disaffected persons who, by particular views of their
own interest, have entered Into measures to fix a
prince of your blood in my dominions even whilst
I am yet living. I never thought till now that
this project would have gone so far as to have
made the least Impression on your mind ; but as I
have lately perceived by public rumours, which are
Industriously spread, that Your Electoral Highness is
come into this sentiment, it is important with respect
to the succession of your family that I should tell
you such a proceeding will infallibly draw along

624 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
with it some consequence that will be dangerous to
the succession Itself, which Is not secure any other
wise than as the Prince, who actually wears the crown,
maintains her authority and prerogative. There are
here — such is our misfortune — a great many people
that are seditiously disposed ; so I leave you to judge
what tumults they may be able to raise If they
should have a pretext to begin a commotion. I
persuade myself, therefore, you will never consent
that the least thing should be done that may disturb
the repose of me or my subjects.
" Open yourself with the same freedom that I do
to you, and propose whatever you think may con
tribute to the security of the succession. I will go
into it with zeal, provided that It did not derogate
from my dignity, which I am resolved to maintain.
" I am, with a great deal of affection, etc.
"Anne R.
"May 19, 1714."
The Queen's letter to the Elector George was
shorter, but equally to the point. She told him plainly
that nothing could be more dangerous to the interests
of the Hanoverian succession than the idea of himself
or his son coming to her dominions, and nothing
could be mote disagreeable to herself.
These letters reached Hanover a week later, and
proved fatal to the Electress Sophia. When she
received the Queen's peremptory letter she not only
lost her cherished hope, but also her temper. She
was well stricken In years and could III bear agitation
of such a kind. A few days after the letters arrived

STATUE OF THE ELECTRESS SOPHIA. [To /lIiT /I. 624.
{Eri'l'li'tl in the gardens of Herrenhausen, on the spot ivlieic she dud.)

trbe jfligbt of l^ears 625
she was dead. MolUneux, who was an agent of
the Duke of Marlborough at Hanover, gives the
following account of her end :
" I ran up there [i.e, the garden at Herrenhausen]
and found her fast expiring In the arms of the poor
Electoral Princess, and amidst the tears of a great
many of her servants, who endeavoured in vain to
help. I can give you no account of her illness, but
that I believe the shock of those villainous letters I
sent you last post has been in a great measure the
cause of it. The Rheingravlne, who has been with
her this fifteen years, told me she never knew any
thing make so deep an Impression on her as the
affair of the Prince's journey, which I am sure she
had to the last degree at heart, and she has done
me the honour to teU me so twenty times. In the
midst of this, however, these letters arrived, and these
I verily believe have broken her heart and brought
her with sorrow to the grave.
" The letters were delivered on Wednesday at seven.
When I came to Court she was at cards. She was
so full of these letters that she got up and ordered
me to follow her Into the garden, where she gave
them to me to read, and walked and spoke a good
deal In relation to them. I believe she walked three
hours that night. The next morning, which was
Thursday, I heard that she was out of order, and
on going immediately to Court, she ordered me to
be called into her bedchamber. She gave me the
letters (I sent you to copy) ; she bade me send
them next post, and bring them to her to Court.

626 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
This was on Friday In the morning. On Friday
they told me she was very well, but seemed much
chagrined. She was dressed, and dined with the Elector
as usual. At four she did me the honour to send
to town for some other copies of the same letters.
Then she was still perfectly well. She walked and
talked very hurriedly In the Orangery. After that,
about six, she went out to walk in the garden. A
shower of rain came on, and as she was walking
pretty fast to get to shelter, they told her she was
walking a little too fast. She answered, ' I believe
I do,' and dropped down on saying these words,
which were her last. They raised her up, chaffed
her with spirits, tried to bleed her ; but it was aU
in vain, and when I came up she was as dead as
if she had been four days so."
The Electress Sophia died on June lo, 17 14, Queen
Anne on the following September i, so the Electress
Sophia missed being Queen of England by a litde
more than two months, and died with the desire of
her heart ungratified. Perhaps this was a retribution
on her for her harshness to her unhappy daughter-
in-law, Sophie Dorothea.

CHAPTER XXVIII
CROWN AND GRAVE
(1714—1726)
Dead, long dead,
Long dead !
And my heart is a handful of dust. Tennyson, Maud.
AFEW hours after Queen Anne breathed her
last the Elector of Hanover was proclaimed
in London as George I. King of Great Britain and
Ireland as quietly as If he had been undisputed
heir to the throne, and Lord Berkeley was sent with
a fleet to Orange Polder, in Holland, to bring over
the new King. The news was speedUy conveyed to
Hanover ; but George received it without enthusiasm,
and showed no haste to enter upon his inherit
ance. UnUke his mother, he had neither sought
nor coveted the English crown ; as it was thrust
upon him, he took it, and made the most of it
for the benefit of his beloved Hanover. When he
at last set out for his new dominion he took with
him a horde of Hanoverian parasites, and two
hideous old women, one his mistress, Ermengarda
Melusina von Schulenburg, and the other Madame
627

628 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
Kielmansegge, a daughter of Countess Platen, but
whether the King's mistress, or half-sister, or both,
must ever remain a mystery. Schulenburg was even
more reluctant than her beloved George to go to
England ; she desired nothing more than a quiet life
and a comfortable pension in Hanover. England,
she said, was a place where they used their kings
barbarously, and might even chop her George's
head off In the first fortnight. She besought him
with tears not to go, or, at any rate, to leave her
at home. But George reassured her by saying
grimly, " All the king-killers are on my side," and
promised much gold and many dignities if she would
follow him to the land of promise. So, grumbling,
she packed up her trunks and trundled off with
him. She was now fifty-five years of age, extra
ordinarily tall and lean ; her skin hung loosely on
her fleshless bones, her cheeks were ruddled with
rouge, and she habitually dressed in glaring and
discordant colours. The other lady, Madame Kiel
mansegge, was unable to leave Hanover the same
day as the King owing to her debts, which he was
too niggardly to pay ; but she managed to avoid
her creditors and caught up the Royal traveller at
the Hague. If we may believe Horace Walpole's
well-known account, she was even less attractive than
Schulenburg. " Lady Darlington," ^ he says, " whom I saw at
my mother's in my infancy, and whom I remember
by being terrified at her enormous figure, was as
' The title given her by the King.

Crown anb (Brave 629
corpulent and ample as the Duchess^ was long and
emaciated. Two fierce black eyes, large and rolling,
between two lofty eyebrows, two acres of cheeks
spread with crimson, an ocean of neck that over
flowed and was not distinguished from the lower
part of her body, and no part restrained by stays —
no wonder that a child dreaded such an ogress ! "
Accompanied by these two favourites, King George
set sail from Orange Polder, where the English fleet
was waiting, and landed two days later at Greenwich.
He was not left stranded on the mud this time,
as In the days of his former visit when he came
a-courting the Lady Anne of York. A servile crowd
of place-hunters was now awaiting him, whose fervent
expressions of loyalty he rated for what they were
worth. Two days later the King made his public
entry into London. His heavy, ungainly presence
and ungracious manner did not impress the populace
favourably ; but their dislike changed to derision
when they saw the two hideous mistresses by whom
he was accompanied, and they relieved their feeUngs
by hoots and yells. At this Schulenburg, who had
picked up a little English in her youth, thrust her
head out of the window of the coach and cried :
" Goot people, why you abuse us.'' — we come for
all your goots."
" Yes, damn ye ! " answered a fellow in the crowd,
" and for aU our chattels, too."
So entered Into his kingdom the first of our
Hanoverian Sovereigns.
' The Duchess of Kendal (Schulenburg).

630 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
In her lonely Castle of Ahlden Sophie Dorothea
heard of the splendid heritage of the English crown ;
but she had no regrets on that score, all she grieved
for was her loss of liberty. The accession of George I.
made no difference to her lot; she was stiU kept in
durance vile, still styled Duchess of Ahlden, and
refused the rank and title of Queen as she had been
refused the rank and title of Electress. Yet she
was de jure, if not de facto, queen consort of George
I., albeit a disowned and uncrowned one, as Caroline of
Brunswick was, nearly a century later, the uncrowned
consort of George IV. There seems little authority for
the statement made by Doran and others that, previous
to the King's departure for England, he made over
tures through a confidential minister to his imprisoned
wife for a reconciliation, and on this and other occa
sions he was met by her words : " If I am guilty I am
not worthy of him ; if I am innocent he is not
worthy of me." It Is also said that she stipulated,
as a preliminary, for a public apology and perfect
freedom, and as this was refused negotiations broke
down. But in the face of other evidence It seems
unlikely that the King would have entered upon such
negotiations at all. He had never shown the least
wish to have his wife back again, and she had always
declared her determination never to return to conjugal
relations with him on any pretext whatever ; it may
be doubted If the prospect of becoming Queen Consort
of England would have been sufficiently dazzling to
have tempted her to rejoin him.
Viewed as a matter of policy. It would have been

KING GEORGE I.

[To face p. 630.

Crown anb 6rave 631
a good thing if George I. could have taken his vrife
to England with him. Though now well advanced
in middle life (Sophie Dorothea was nearly fifty
years of age and had been imprisoned twenty years),
she was still beautiful, and her many accomplish
ments, her grace and dignity, would have lent a charm
to the dull Court of St. James' and have helped
to popularise the Hanoverian regime. But Sophie
Dorothea had never shown herself une femme com-
plaisante, and would most surely have objected to
the harem which accompanied her husband to England.
Knowing this, George I. doubtless thought It better to
keep his wife shut up in Ahlden than to embark upon
any hazardous scheme of reconciUation. His hands
were full enough of domestic worries without being
troubled with any more. His quarrels and bickerings
with the Prince of Wales were matters of common
notoriety, and reflected little credit on the dynasty ;
so every effort was made to keep the other family
scandal hidden from his English subjects. Some of
the Hanoverian suite who accompanied the King to
England gave out that His Majesty was a widower ;
others that his wife was mad ; and others that she
was a Papist ; but the Jacobites ferreted out the
truth, and did not scruple to make the most of it.
The harshness with which the King treated his
Consort formed the favourite indictment against him,
and was always brought up at popular demonstrations,
as, for instance, on the anniversary of the death of
Queen Anne, until the end of his reign. The story
of Sophie Dorothea's hardships and misery in her
VOL. II. 19

632 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
mysterious castle was greatly exaggerated, and any
allusion to the subject was resented by the King,
who was especially sensitive on this score. He even
thought It possible that his wife might escape from
her prison, come over to England, and proclaim the
story of her wrongs ; so when he left Hanover he
gave orders that she was to be guarded more closely
than ever. This espionage was accompanied by extra
ordinary care for her health ; the most loving husband
could not have been more solicitous. In addition
to her resident doctor at Ahlden, court physicians
from Hanover visited the captive at stated intervals
and made reports. This solicitude arose, not from
regard, but from superstition. " It is known," writes
Walpole, " that in Queen Anne's time there was
much noise about the French prophets, and it certainly
was a most superstitious age. One of this company,
a prophetess Deborah, who was much esteemed for
her prophetic gifts, once came to Hanover and told
King George, who was then Elector, to take every
care of his wife, as he would certainly not survive
her twelve months."
Like all Germans, George I. was very superstitious,
and Madame Schulenburg was even more so ; so
orders were given that everything should be done to
keep the prisoner at Ahlden in good health. To
this she probably owed what liberty she possessed,
including her daily drives. The reports which reached
her tyrant from time to time were reassuring, for
the captive enjoyed the best of health, to which her
regular life no doubt contributed.

Crown anb (Brave 633
Her one grievance now was her imprisonment,
against which, during the whole of her residence at
Ahlden, she did not cease to protest and struggle.
Time only intensified her desire for freedom. Short of
this she bore her lot with fortitude and resignation,
and even her enemies gave grudging testimony to
the admirable way in which she ordered her life.
The daily round, weary and monotonous though it
was, brought little duties which she never neglected.
Her household and estates were admirably managed,
and in the country around the poor rose up and
called her blessed. When the village of Ahlden was
burnt down In 1 7 1 5 she rebuilt it at her own expense,
and widened the view from the castle. She derived
great comfort from the consolations of religion,
and every Sunday she took the sacrament in the
presence of her household, and prayed God to forgive
her enemies and turn their hearts. Even against her
arch-enemy, her husband, she at this time said nothing.
The only ray of light in her gloom were the visits
of her mother, who, despite her advanced age and in
creasing infirmities, still came from Wienhausen to see
her beloved daughter as often as she was permitted to
do so. She also found relief in her literary labours ;
she was always a graceful and ready writer, and In
her later years she cultivated this faculty to her
utmost. She wrote her memoirs In the hope that they
would be permitted to see the light ; but they were
never given to the world, though many spurious
imitations have been foisted on the public. It is
believed also that romance and poetry flowed from

634 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
her pen ; reams and reams of paper were covered by
her handwriting, and boxes and boxes of manu
scripts accumulated at Ahlden during the long years
of her captivity, most of them circling around the
tale of her own sad lot, and chiefly written with a
view po setting herself right with the world. All
these papers were ultimately suppressed, burned, or
otherwise destroyed by order of the Hanoverian
government, and, save for a few scattered fragments
of little value, nothing has been left ; her literary
labours were as vain as the labours of Sisyphus. When
she first came to Ahlden she carried on an extensive
correspondence with friends and acquaintances, but it
had gradually thinned by death. She still, however,
wrote and received many letters, many of them quite
openly, some in secret. Of the latter, the most
important was her correspondence with her daughter,
the Queen of Prussia.
Soon after the young Princess's marriage the
King of Prussia died, and on her husband's
accession she became the second Queen of Prussia.
One of her first acts was to take Into her service
the faithful Eleonore Knesebeck, who until this
time had been living at Brunswick and Wolfenbuttel.
From Knesebeck the Queen learned the story of
the captive's wrongs. Her heart had always yearned
to her Imprisoned mother, and, moved to fresh
pity by the recital of Knesebeck, she determined to
do what she could to ameliorate her lot. Under
the seal of secrecy she opened up a correspondence
with the prisoner of Ahlden. As this was contrary

Crown anb (Brave 635
to the orders of both the King of Prussia and the
King of England, it was necessary to surround it
with extraordinary precautions. For several years
mother and daughter managed to keep up a frequent
correspondence, which was maintained chiefly through
the Count de Bar, who, since the death of the Duke
of Celle, had acted as Sophie Dorothea's man of
business, and looked after her money matters ; Ludwig,
a Privy CounciUor at Berlin, Frederick, one of the
Queen of Prussia's pages, and Ludemann, a baUIff at
Ahlden also assisted. Many communications passed
between mother and daughter, not only on private
matters, but on public affairs ; the mother always Im
ploring her daughter to aid her to gain her Uberty, the
daughter always promising to do her best, counsel
ling patience, and sending from time to time little
gifts to mark her good wUl. The King of Prussia
soon got to know what was going on, but he
discreetly shut his eyes for reasons of his own. He
knew that his mother-in-law was possessed of a large
property entirely under her control, and was also
heiress to another. At her death she would leave
her daughter a substantial share. If not the whole,
and she was therefore a person to be humoured.
The Queen of Prussia knew this, too, and subsequent
events seem to show that this knowledge was not
without its Influence on her display of filial affection.
But the poor lady at Ahlden believed her daughter's
solicitude to be all born of love, and she gave back
the love fourfold. She was of a warm-hearted,
affectionate, and impulsive disposition, a nature years

636 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
of solitude and misery had neither warped nor
soured. King George would have been very angry If he
had known of this correspondence ; but he was now
chiefly in England, and he tried to forget the very
existence of his wife.
Far away from Ahlden, he was acquitting himself
after his manner In his new dominions. He loved not
England ; he never troubled to learn the language, nor
to make himself acquainted with the laws and customs
of the country over which he was called to reign. He
left all government in the hands of his ministers,
made them responsible, and directed his energies to
plundering England for the benefit of his beloved
Hanover. His favourite ladies followed suit, and
their greed and unloveliness gave rise to the grossest
lampoons. Schulenburg was nicknamed " The May
pole," and Kielmansegge " The Elephant," and rude
cartoons were sold in the gutters and purlieus of
the city of London.
One scribbler wrote : " We are being ruined by
trulls — nay, what is more vexatious, by old ugly
trulls, such as could not find entertainment, in the
most hospitable hundreds of old Drury." This
libel formed a subject of debate in the House of
Commons, and was punished with imprisonment and
fine. Nevertheless the charge was true : the ugliness of
these ladles was undeniable, their morals were not above
reproach, and their rapacity was beyond conception.
Like their master, they seemed to regard England
as a temporary possession, to be made the most of

Crown anb (Brave 637
while it lasted, and they grabbed everything they
could lay hold of, even Queen Anne's jewels ; they
appropriated places and pensions, and sold their real
or supposed influence with the King for enormous
sums. As a reward for their complaisance in follow
ing him to England, King George had settled on
them large Incomes, and lodged them In St. James'
Palace. He created Schulenburg Duchess of Kendal,
and Kielmansegge Countess of Darlington. These,
then, were the ladles who graced the Court of
St. James' under George I. Never had England
seen more avaricious favourites, not even in the
worst days of the Stuarts. Charles II. had his
mistresses, numerous and extravagant enough In all
truth, but they were beautiful, as Lady Castlemalne,
or witty, as the Duchess of Portsmouth, or good-
natured, like NeU Gwynne. But the " Elephant "
and the " Maypole " were not as these ; they
represented vice in all its ugliness. Even in their
failings the Stuarts were picturesque, and invested
their wrongdoing with a certain splendour and
refinement. But what can be said in defence of
the Court of our first Hanoverian Sovereign .'' how
paUiate its utter grossness, its ugliness, meanness, and
avarice ? And as George 1. began his reign so it
continued to the end : the EngUsh Court, If Court
it could be caUed, had never sunk so low. The
palace of St. James' became a focus of shameless
immorality and sordid corruption, and to it aU was
added the bitterness of a family feud. The father
hated the son, and the son hated the father ; the

638 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
ministers hated the mistresses, and the mistresses
hated the ministers. AU was, in short, hatred, false
hood, and intrigue ; the worst passions of human nature
were fostered In this foetid atmosphere. Such was
the reign of the first George, and such was the man
who sat in judgment on his wife, and doomed her
to lifelong imprisonment because, in her youth, she
had loved one man, not wisely, but too well.
Faugh ! the air stifles us, let us open the windows
and away.
Back again to Ahlden, back to the lonely castle
on the desolate heath, over which the wind swept
shrlUy. Yet, shrUl and biting though it was, it at
least had no taint of the poisonous breath of St.
James'. Back again to the poor prisoner of nearly
thirty years, eating her heart out in loneliness and
woe, praying daily for the deliverance that never
came. Let us hasten quickly : it is our last journey.
Early in 1722 Sophie Dorothea lost the one being
whom she could trust in the world, the mother
whose love had never failed her, and who, In the
darkest hour, sought to protect her interests and
defend her good name against aU the world. Since
her husband's death the Duchess of Celle, though
grudgingly accorded the outward honours due to her
rank, had been subject to many petty insults and
annoyances from the Hanoverian government, which
she suffered uncomplainingly.
Up to a short time of her death the Duchess
Eleonore was regular in her visits to her daughter.
Her cheerful presence came as the one gleam of

Crown anb (Brave 639
sunshine in the darkness of Ahlden ; she was never
tired of preaching resignation and of holding out the
hope of a brighter future. One of her last acts was to
again make her wUl in favour of her daughter, securing
to her more firmly all the property she possessed, with
the exception of a substantial life Income which she
bequeathed to her old friend Duke Antony Ulrich
of Wolfenbuttel. As soon as she had settled her
earthly affairs the Duchess grew much weaker, and
was warned that her end was near ; but, weak and
ailing though she was, she rose from her bed and made
a supreme effort to visit her daughter once more.
She journeyed to Ahlden, and had her last interview
with the unhappy captive, and gave her her blessing.
Mother and daughter parted with tears, fully persuaded
they would never meet again. Their forebodings were
soon realised, for when the Duchess reached home she
returned to her bed, from which she never rose again.
She was buried In the ducal vaults of Celle next
her husband, but the vacant niche for her statue
in the chancel above has never been filled, — another
instance of the meanness of George I., who carried
his vindictiveness even beyond the grave.
The Courts of England, Hanover, and BerUn
decreed mourning as in duty bound, and in this
the " Duchess of Ahlden " was permitted to join.
Previously she had received no official notification of
the mournings and rejoicings In her family, not even
of her father's death and her children's marriages.
Sophie Dorothea had reason enough to mourn, God
knows : she had lost her one true friend on earth,

640 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
and there seemed no prospect for her but to Uve on,
uncared for, at the mercy of the relentless tyrant,
her husband. Her fortitude of years began to give
way, and in despair she meditated wild plans of
escape, and set aside large sums of money to this
end. But, alas I the very people she trusted took
her gold with one hand and betrayed her with the
other. For a little time she was not without hope.
Her son-in-law. King Frederick of Prussia, seemed
Interested in her cause ; but his Interest proved purely
selfish. He was absolutely indifferent as to what
became of his wife's mother, but was exceedingly
Interested In her fortune, which had been largely
augmented by the death of the Duchess of Celle.
He employed an agent In Hanover to discover
exactly how matters stood and what share his wife
would inherit from her mother. These inquiries
gave great umbrage to King George. But they
need not have done so, for when the King of Prussia
discovered that his Queen would possess at least halt
her mother's fortune he no longer paid the captive
of Ahlden the least consideration, and ordered his
wife to discontinue her correspondence with her
mother. Nevertheless, communications continued to
pass between Ahlden and Berlin, though under
greater secrecy than before. The Count de Bar, who
was indeed a traitor of the deepest dye, was suspected
by the Queen of Prussia, and she repeatedly warned
her mother against him ; but Sophie Dorothea clung
to him to the very last.
One fertile subject of correspondence between

THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA. ' [To face p. 640.
{Daughter of Sophie Dorothea and George I.)

Crown anb (Brave 641
mother and daughter was on what was caUed the
" double marriage scheme " between Sophie Dorothea's
grandchildren — namely, the marriage of Frederick, son
of the Prince of Wales, to Wllhelmina, daughter of
the King and Queen of Prussia, and of their son
Fritz, afterwards Frederick the Great, to AmeUa,
second daughter of the Prince of Wales. This double
marriage was a darling project of the Queen of
Prussia, cherished by her almost from the time the
children were born. She was supported by her father,
the King of England, but opposed by her husband,
the King of Prussia. The " Duchess of Ahlden "
opposed it, too, and Instructed her agent at BerUn to
work against the scheme, though how it could have
made any difference to her passes imagination. This
opposition so incensed the Queen of Prussia that she
sent word to her mother to the effect that when the
marriage scheme was an accomplished fact she would
work her hardest to set her free, but not until then.
As these marriages could not come off for years, in
consequence of the youth of the Princess Amelia,
this message was disheartening, and at first Sophie
Dorothea would not credit It ; but it is characteristic
that it made no change in her opposition. There was
no more to be expected from the King and Queen of
Prussia. Foiled In the direction she had hoped for
deUverance, she fell back again on plans of escape.
From time to time she had entrusted Count de Bar
with large sums of money, amounting altogether to
some sixty thousand pounds, which he deposited in
the Bank of Amsterdam. He afterwards appro-

642 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
priated most of this to his own use ; — but that is to
anticipate. At this time Sophie Dorothea trusted
him wholly, and her object in placing this money
at Amsterdam was that it might come in useful
to her in case she escaped from her husband's
territory ; but how she thought to effect a flight
from the closely guarded Castle of Ahlden it is
Impossible to say. In this secret flight the Count de
Bar was to assist. The Queen of Prussia became
aware of the project, and in much alarm entreated her
mother to be patient. She again promised that she
would help her as soon as her pet scheme of the
double marriage was out of the way, and she asked
her mother to help her to effect it. She must have
meant help with money to bribe ministers and agents,
for there was no other way save money in which
the Imprisoned Princess could be of any use. She
also advised a " general amnesty," which meant that her
mother should seek a reconciliation with King George,
and express her wiUingness to submit to his terms,
whatever they might be. But Sophie Dorothea had
a proud spirit, which all these years of captivity could
not break, and she was a difficult woman to deal with.
Much as she desired her freedom, she would make
no sacrifice of dignity or consistency.
In the following letter to the Count de Bar,
then at Berlin, she thus expresses herself on these
proposals : " [Ahlden], July 28, 1725.
" I thank God that nothing in the world, not even
the most dazzling and tempting prospect, would make

Crown anb (Brave 643
the least impression upon me, or lead me into any
meanness. I repeat that you are absolutely master to
do as you please ; but it is impossible for me ever to
give my approval to a marriage scheme which would
indubitably separate my daughter from my interests,
and the consequences of which speak but too plainly
for themselves. As to the ' general amnesty ' which
is deemed absolutely necessary, I told you last year
what I thought on that subject. I merely add now
that I have Christian sentiments, and am neither
implacable nor animated with an unworthy desire of
vengeance. I am far from wishing anything harsh or
cruel. But it would be very mortifying to me to find
myself disappointed of all satisfaction after so many
outrages and insults ; and this cannot be considered
as a criminal revenge, but rather as a point of honour,
conformable to Holy Scripture and the example of
St. Paul. See the Acts of the Apostles, chap, xvi.,
vv. 36, 37.
" Sophie Dorothea."
There is little doubt that Sophie Dorothea was wise
in refusing to part with money to advance the Queen
of Prussia's marriage schemes without some adequate
security that her daughter would really carry out
her promise ; and she was probably wise, too, in
spurning the idea of a general amnesty if that in
volved submission to George I. and his mistresses.
She would sacrifice her dignity and consistency on
the one hand, and would gain nothing on the other,
for it was hardly likely that the King's promises,

644 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
supposing that he made any, were to be trusted.
This uncompromising attitude on her part furnished
the Queen of Prussia with a further pretext for doing
nothing more for her mother, and she directed her
confidential agent, Frederick, to communicate, through
Ludemann, the bailiff of Ahlden, " that affairs were
in so bad a state that it was impossible to take any
steps without making bad worse and causing more
unhappiness, but that time and Providence would
ameliorate everything." She also refused to receive
the Count de Bar any more at Berlin, as she dis
trusted both his good faith and his ability. Frederick,
the Queen's agent, was sent to interview Ludemann,
either at Ahlden or at some place near, and to
communicate to him verbaUy the Queen's message to
her mother. Ludemann drew up a report of his
conversation with Frederick, which, inter alia, runs
as follows :
" The Queen sends her best regards to Her
Highness with the strongest assurances of her entire
affection, respect, and filial devotion, soUcIting to
maintain a place in the affections of her mother, for
whom she forwards some souvenirs. She would with
pleasure have written, but the circumstances in which
she is placed render writing too hazardous. The
least movement In Her Highness's favour cannot be
made without great danger."
The Queen of Prussia's messenger went on to say
that all correspondence and communications must cease

Crown anb (Brave 645
for a time. On behalf of the Queen he again de
nounced the Count de Bar as a dangerous traitor.
Ludemann, Sophie Dorothea's agent, commented on
the Queen's dislike of the Count as very strange,
considering how long a time he had served Sophie
Dorothea and her father before her. After con
siderable parley the report shows that the Queen
again promises her mother that if she would only
keep quiet until the affair of the double marriage
was arranged she would do all she could to help
her. It is clear from this that the Queen of
Prussia's Interest was a purely selfish one.
Sophie Dorothea was greatly dissatisfied with
Ludemann's report of his Interview with the Queen's
agent and refused to beUeve much of it. She was
unable to appreciate the necessity of secrecy, she
refused the presents, and expressed her confidence and
trust in the Count de Bar in the two following
spirited memoranda to her daughter: "Ahlden, August 26, 1725.
"I have received two portraits in miniature set
in gold ; a gold repeater watch garnished with
cornelian, with chain seal and gold hook ; an etui
of mother-of-pearl, with side garnished in like
manner ; and a snuff-box covered with a rare agate,
which I keep till they can be returned with safety,
it being neither just nor proper that I should accept
them in the present juncture and circumstances —
except the two portraits, which I shall retain.
"Sophie Dorothea."

64<5 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
"Ahlden, September 5, 1725.
" In case there should be repeated at Hanover
what has been said at Rhaburg concerning the Count
de Bar, I declare that my firm and constant wiU Is
that the Count de Bar shall continue to act for me
in my affairs as he has always done hitherto. I
ought not, and I will not, prevent those, whom
Heaven in its infinite mercy has been pleased to raise
up to have compassion on me, from acting In my
favour and for my interest. But in future he shall
not annoy anybody in Berlin. "Sophie Dorothea."
In the autumn of the same year Sophie Dorothea
learned that the Queen of Prussia was coming to
Hanover on a visit to her father, George I., who
had come over from England to spend a few months
in his beloved Electorate. As the Queen would be
so near her mother's prison Sophie Dorothea prayed
earnestly to see her, and the daughter half promised
to come. The moral effect of a visit from the
Queen of Prussia to the neglected captive at Ahlden
would have been very great, and could not have
failed to benefit the prisoner, at least in Increased
consideration and respect. It would have been a sign
to all the world that her daughter was on her side.
No wonder the friendless captive desired It so
ardently ! When she heard that her daughter had
arrived at Hanover she dressed herself with more
than usual care, and looked out from her window
day after day across the moorland. It was a different

Crown anb (Brave 647
face from that which had looked out from the
casement thirty years before in the bloom of its
youthful beauty. The Princess's hair was white
now, and her face Uned and drawn, but she stiU
retained traces of great loveliness.
The days went by and the Queen came not, though
day by day, and hour by hour, the captive strained
her eyes in the direction of Hanover and her ears
for sound of the chariot wheels. When the Queen
of Prussia arrived at Hanover she was afraid to move
in the matter. Her husband forbade her to go to
Ahlden, for fear of angering her father, whom he
wished to conciliate. So she abandoned the idea,
and lost her one chance of seeing her mother.
By-and-by the news came to Ahlden that the
Queen of Prussia had gone back to Berlin, and
for the first time for long years Sophie Dorothea
gave up hope. She had counted so much on this
visit, built so many castles in the air upon It, made
so many plans, gone over again and again what she
would say and how she would greet her daughter,
that the disappointment nearly broke her heart. Her
daughter had failed her, as all others had failed.
It was a convincing proof that, despite all protesta
tions, the Queen of Prussia could not, or would
not, make any decisive step on her mother's behalf.
The result of this disappointment was to make
Sophie Dorothea cling more closely to the Count de
Bar and centre her hopes around him. She caught
at him as the drowning man catches at the proverbial
straw. One by one her friends had died or proved
VOL. II. 20

648 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
false, the last of the list of traitors being Ludemann,
the bailiff of Ahlden ; but she trusted aU the more
implicitly the Count de Bar, who was the greatest
traitor of aU. She wrote to him when she was
still smarting under the sense of her daughter's
neglect, the following letter, in which she again
assures him of her confidence :
" Ahlden, September 27, 1725.
" Words cannot express aU I think," she writes,
" aU I have always thought without the least diminu
tion, aU I shaU never cease to think. In the name
of God, be always the same to me, as I shaU be
to you till my latest breath."
She speaks of the " dragons and spies " by whom
she was surrounded, and, after adverting on the
marriage scheme and the treachery of Ludemann, she
goes on to say :
" I am of opinion that the whole of this black
business [the treachery of Ludemann] has been got
up by the clique here for reasons and ends easy to
be perceived. This affair has caused me very deep
and poignant grief, and shows me the deplorable
and dangerous condition wherein I -am placed — a
condition which Is getting worse and worse. I am
surrounded by people without pity or justice, and
their number is daily increasing. I am incessandy
exposed to their calumnies, false suspicions, and
iU-turns. They now have it more than ever In
their power to Invent words and actions which
they attribute to me, and so strive to blacken my
reputation. Ludemann, who was the only channel

Crown anb (Brave 649
through which I could learn anything and make
known the truth, is at present absolutely devoted to
them. " If I feared poison many years ago, my present
circumstances are such as to strengthen that fear ;
and as life is not now indifferent to me, this sus
picion, added to aU the rest, would surely disturb
my tranquUUty did not the Almighty grace of God
preserve peace in my heart in spite of all storms,
and give me increased strength and courage in pro
portion to the greater need I have of them : I have
never had more need of them than now. You may
rest assured that, with the aid of that divine grace,
nothing on earth will bring about a change in my
sentiments or conduct, nor lead me to any action
in the slightest degree mean and unworthy. I will
resolutely and steadfastly adhere to what I have held
fast for so many years, without the smallest change.
My honour and what I owe to myself demand It,
and every conceivable reason strengthens me in this
policy. " My health Is good, and better than might be
expected in my agitated state of mind. The God of
mercy supports me in a marvellous way ; and I take
care of myself, since my friends have the goodness
to be interested in my welfare. The strong expressions
I made use of in my preceding letter on this subject
were intended to convey an idea of the great annoyance
I am suffering on all sides. Indeed, they excite In
me an intense disgust of this place and an ardent
desire to leave it."

6so trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
Sophie Dorothea was utterly alone in the world :
her mother was dead, her daughter had failed her,
and she was at the mercy of hirelings, who, under
pretext of sympathy, were continually robbing and
betraying her. Her one idea now was to effect an
escape from Ahlden. A year later we find her writing
again to the Count de Bar ; In her letter she speaks of
the " unheard-of Injustice and fury of my enemies," and
entreats him to come to her. She goes on to say :
"Ahlden, August 19, 1726, 3 o'clock in the morning.
" I must confess that the news that has come from
beyond the sea occupies my mind. God grant there
may be no obstacle to delay what I have at heart more
than I can express ! You are not ignorant, sir, what
that is : all my sentiments are known to you. I picture
myself becoming a monster losing its sight, but I
have hardly thought about it. I doubt whether Heaven,
in exchange, wiU be pleased to open certain eyes. I
am entirely Ignorant of what is passing in the world
except what I learn from the ordinary political news.
I am guarded, and more pains than ever are taken
to prevent my learning anything."
This was the last cry for help. The Count de Bar
hastened not to her succour, but. Instead, the Pale
Horseman came gaUopIng over the heath. Deliver
ance was at hand — the last deliverance, whose name is
Death. Yet before that came Sophie Dorothea had
to drink the last drop in her cup of bitterness.
Convincing proof was brought her that the man In

Crown anb (Brave 651
whom she trusted was added to the long list of traitors.
He had never meant to come, he had never wished
her to escape ; she had henceforth no one to whom
she could turn.
This was the last betrayal the unhappy woman had
to suffer. Under It strength and fortitude gave
way. She wrote one more letter (to be deUvered
after her death), and gave it under seal to a trusty
messenger. Then she broke down utterly, and took
to her bed with an attack of something like brain
fever. The Governor of the castle sent hurriedly
to Hanover, and the news of her serious illness was
conveyed to the King In England. Everything that
medical sklU could do was done without avail : court
physicians, apothecaries, and surgeons hurried from
Hanover to the lonely castle ; but they could do
nothing. Confidential Ministers of State came, too ;
but they were also helpless — they could only listen,
shuddering, to the awful ravings of the dying woman.
The seal she had set on her lips for years was
broken at last, and day after day as she fought for
life she denounced the tyrant who had been her
gaoler and her judge, and cried to Heaven for
vengeance upon him. She lost all rallying power,
and grew weaker and weaker, until at last, one
dull November day, when the chill mists hung
heavy over the marshes around Ahlden, Sophie
Dorothea breathed her last in the little room where
she had been prisoner for so many weary years !
Sophie Dorothea died on November 13, 1726, in
the sixty-first year of her age and the thirty-third
of her captivity.

CHAPTER XXIX
RETRIBUTION
(1727)
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain."
Shakspeare, King Richard III.
OVER In England the King heard the news of
his wife's death with Ill-concealed concern,
born not of remorse, but fear. In his superstitious
soul he remembered the prophecy and trembled. His
forebodings of evU were not lessened when Prince
Waldeck arrived from Hanover with secret despatches,
which gave a detailed account of the awful death
bed at Ahlden and the dying woman's appeal to the
retribution of Heaven. Nor did the King derive
much comfort from his withered mistresses, for the
Duchess of Kendal, to whom he confided all, had a
firm faith in omens, visions, and soothsayers, and
was even more troubled than he. By way of avert
ing the curse she became more devout than ever,
and attended church as many as four times a day,
notwithstanding the fact that the Lutheran minister
at the German Chapel Royal refused her the com-
652

"(Retribution 653
munion on the ground that she was Uving in
unrepentant adultery. King George sought to shake
off his depression by every means in his power,
and the very evemng that he learned the tidings
his wife was no more he sought distraction by
going to see a performance of the Italian comedians
at the Haymarket, accompanied by the Duchess of
Kendal and Lady Darlington. The next day he
commanded a special performance at the King's
Theatre, which was followed by others, though up
to now the play was a pastime he had very rarely
indulged in. But all his efforts were ineffectual, for
the shade of his victim haunted him, and her dying
cry for vengeance rang in his ears. Sophie Dorothea
was more powerful in death than in life.
Outwardly the Court of St. James' ignored the
event, and, beyond a line In the London Gazette to
the effect that the " Duchess of AiUden " had died
at Ahlden on a date specified, the death of the wife
of the King of England and the mother of the
king to be received no official notice whatever.
But the Court of Hanover on receipt of the news
from Ahlden had very properly assumed mourning,
as on the occasion of the decease of the Duchess
of Celle. When King George heard this he waxed
exceeding wroth, and sent peremptory orders to the
Hanoverian officials to return to their ordinary wear.
His anger was increased when he learned that the
Court of Berlin had decreed the deepest mourning,
as for a Queen of England who was also mother of
the Queen of Prussia. It was a natural mark of

6s4 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
respect for the daughter to pay, and It showed to
all the world that she beUeved her mother to be an
innocent woman. George I. resented the Court
mourning at Berlin as a personal affront, and protested ;
but his protest was in vain. Thus did his mean malice
pursue his victim even in death.
Meanwhile the body of Sophie Dorothea lay in a
plain leaden coffin in the vaults of the Castle of Ahlden,
awaiting the King's orders. None dared pay the
remains any honour, nor even give them a decent and
Christian burial, for fear of offending the tyrant in
England. With the new year (1727) Prince Waldeck
came back from London with the Royal command
that the " Duchess of Ahlden " should be buried with
as little ceremony as possible In a grave dug in the
garden of the castle. But the season was rainy and
the Aller overflowed Its banks, and though the grave-
diggers dug again and again in the swampy ground
the waters always rushed into the grave and rendered
their labours vain. It was impossible to communicate
quickly with the King across the sea, so the coffin
was ignominiously carried back again to the ceUar,
covered over with a heap of sand, and left until
further orders. It would have been left there until
now, for all the King cared, had he not been a prey
to superstitious fears. He could not sleep, he could
not rest, and life was becoming a burden to him.
This may have been due to advancing years and an
Impaired digestion, for he was a coarse and heavy eater ;
but the Duchess of Kendal declared that she was
warned in a dream that it was aU the work of the

IRetribution 655
unquiet spirit of Sophie Dorothea, and her ghost
would never rest, nor let the King rest, until her
body was laid by the side of her ancestors at Celle.
One May morning, therefore, a King's messenger
arrived at Ahlden from England with orders, under the
Royal sign manual, that the remains of the " Duchess
of Ahlden" should be interred in the ducal burial-vaults
in the old church of Celle as quietly and expeditiously
as possible. That same night the body was taken from
the cellar, hoisted on to a vehicle, and conveyed across
the rnoorland to Celle, where It arrived while the little
town was still sleeping. Three or four workmen from
the castle were waiting in the church and everything
was in readiness. Without any ceremony or religious
service the coffin was hurried down to the vaults
under the chancel, where it lies until this day.
The church above Is full of effigies of Sophie
Dorothea's ancestors, whose deeds and renown are
blazoned forth In brass and marble and painted glass ;
but there is neither memorial nor inscription to mark
the last resting-place of the heiress of Celle, who,
by virtue of her sufferings, was the most famous of
them all. In the dark vault below, her remains
could not be identified at all were it not for a small
shield on the top right-hand corner of the coffin, con
taining her name and the dates of birth and death.
Hard by the church in the " French Garden " of
the casde there stands a statue of the Danish Queen,
Caroline Matilda, whose sad lot closely resembled
that of Sophie Dorothea, and whose body was
deposited in the same vault half a century later.

6s6 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
But of the heiress of Celle, direct ancestress of two
of the mightiest sovereigns in the modern world,
there exists no monument whatever. Now that the
flight of years has obliterated the bitterness which
clung around her name It is surely time that some
memorial were raised to her memory. And where
more fitting than in the place of her birth, under
the grey walls of the old castle she loved so well .-'
She was the last princess of Celle, and in the hearts
of the people the tradition of her beauty and her
woes still lingers.
The vision which appeared to the Duchess of Kendal
must have been a lying spirit, for though Sophie
Dorothea slept with her forefathers, no relief came
to her oppressor. King George was overwrought,
nervous, and dispirited. His government was honey
combed with intrigues, his quarrel with his son was
intensified in bitterness ; and not aU his avaricious
mistresses with their ruddled cheeks could give him
comfort. He was consumed with a desire to return
to Hanover. Peradventure, like certain criminals, he
felt impelled to revisit the scene of his crime.
On June 3, 1727, a month after the tardy burial
of his victim, the King set out from England for
Hanover. Travelling night and day, he reached
Dalden on the far frontier of Holland at midnight
on June 9th. Here he stopped to change horses and
he devoured a huge supper. Instead of tarrying for
the night, as his suite expected and his travelling
physician advised, for he had eaten heavily and
was worn out with the long journey, the King was

IRetribution 657
seized with an overpowering restlessness to reach
Hanover, and started off again at three o'clock in the
morning. As the Royal coach rumbled out of the courtyard
a man stepped forth from the shadow and threw
a document through the window on to the King's
knees. Neither His Majesty nor his escort thought
anything of the Incident, supposing the paper to be
one of those many petitions with which George was
wont to be pestered on his return to the Electorate.
By the grey light of the dawn the King broke
the seal and read, and as he read his hands shook
and his face grew ashen. It was a letter from his
dead wife, written when she felt the hand of death
upon her. The trusty messenger, to whom she had
given the packet, had waited and waited until the
King should come from England that he might
surely deliver it into his hands. It was an awful
letter for a woman to write, doubly awful for the
man to receive. It was penned evidently when
Sophie Dorothea's brain was on fire with her wrongs
— when her reason was trembling In the balance ;
in It she reiterated her sufferings and his cruelty,
cursed him with her dying breath, and summoned
him to meet her within a year and a day before the
judgment throne of God, there to answer for the
wrong he had done her. To the trembling tyrant
it came like a voice from the dead. He recalled
again the prophecy that he would not long outlive
his wife, and now came the confirmation of his fears.
He heard his victim, Uke an accusing angel, caUing

6s8 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
him to his doom — a year and a day — a year
and a day, — and that was last November. The
letter feU from his nerveless hands, there was a
rush of blood to his eyes, a beating In his brain,
and he fell forward in a fit.
In great alarm the equerry caUed a halt, and the
long procession of coaches and escort, pulled up by
the wayside. But the King recovered almost Imme
diately, and, insisting that it was nothing, angrily
commanded them to proceed. Linden, the next
stopping-place, was reached In a few hours, and here
dinner awaited the Royal traveUer. But the King
could not eat. His Indisposition was evidently worse
than he would admit. The surgeons bled him and
dosed him and advised a rest ; but their patient would
hear no reason, his one desire was to push forward
to his beloved Hanover.
Quitting Linden at sunset, the Royal cortege
thundered forward with all speed. An hour later
the King became much worse, but he hastened on
as though pursued by a legion of furies. His
escort would fain have halted ; but still the King
urged them on, leaning forward from the window,
and shouting, " To Osnabriick ! to Osnabriick 1 "
as the horses galloped through the gathering dusk.
Osnabriick was reached at ten o'clock ; but by that
time the King had again coUapsed, faUIng forward into
the arms of his gentleman-in-waltlng. They bore him
into the Episcopal Palace, now occupied by his youngest
brother Ernest Augustus, bled him again, chafed his
clenched hands, applied restoratives ; but all in vain.

IRetribution 659
George never recovered consciousness, and died at
midnight in the very room where he was born sixty-
seven years before. He had obeyed the dread
summons, and had gone to meet his wife before
the judgment throne of God.
Thus died George I., the first of our Hanoverian
kings, unloved and unmourned — nay, not quite un-
mourned, for even this man had one who loved him.
His aged mistress, the Duchess of Kendal, had not
been able to pack up in time to travel with her Uege,
but was foUowing him with all speed. When the news
of his death was brought her on the road she gave
way to the loudest demonstrations of grief, beating
her breast, tearing her hair, and filling the air with
lamentations. She had lived with him nigh on forty
years, and though he had not been true to her — for
it was not his nature to be true to any one — in his
way he had been fond of her ; she had become as
indispensable to him as he had to her.
The Duchess journeyed to Brunswick and re
mained there for some months, abandoning herself
to the violence of her sorrow. Then prudence got
the better of her sense of bereavement, and she
returned to England to look after her moneys. She
took up her abode at Isleworth, and lived there In
pious retirement and affluence. She was devoted to the
King's memory. He had promised, she said, to come
back to her after death, and one day when a raven
fluttered in at her window she took It into her silly old
head that George had come to her in this guise. She
took charge of the bird, treated it with aU honour.

66o trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
petted and caressed it to the day of her death, and
provided for it in her wIU. Let us hope it gave her
some comfort. Poor old Ermengarda Melusina !
She had her faults, but she was always on the side of
mercy, even in ithe case of the sad captive of Ahlden,
whom she had supplanted, to be in turn supplanted by
others. Yet, despite them all, she loved her George,
and his affection for her, grotesque though it was,
formed the only redeeming grace in his character.
The new King, George II. , did nothing so far as
we know to clear his mother's memory, though Horace
Walpole writes : " The second George loved his
mother as much as he hated his father, and purposed.
It was said, if she had survived, to have brought her
over and declared her Queen-Dowager. Lady Suffolk
told me her surprise, on going to the new Queen the
morning after George I.'s death, at seeing hung up
in the Queen's dressing-room the whole length of
a lady In royal robes, and in the bedchamber a
half-length of the same person, which Lady Suffolk
had never seen before." ^ They were pictures of his
mother, which the Prince had till then kept concealed.
This hardly tallies with Lord Hervey's testimony of
George's II. reticence concerning his mother, " whom,"
he writes, "on no occasion I ever heard him
mention, not even Inadvertently or Indirecdy, any
more than If such a person had ever had a being!" ^
The Jacobites used to caU George II. " the little
KSnlgsmarck " (an unfounded libel if ever there was
one !) and this may have accounted for his silence.
' Walpole's Reminiscences. ' Lord Hervey's Memoirs.

IRetribution 66 1
Another poetaster twitted "dapper George" with
being governed by his Queen, and advised him
.... if you would have us fall down and adore you,
Lock up your fat spouse, as your dad did before you,
which shows that Sophie Dorothea's imprisonment at
Ahlden was fairly famUiar to the EngUsh public.
That the true story of his mother's life became
known to George II. Is certain, for on his first
visit to Hanover after ascending the throne of
England he ordered the secret records of the divorce
proceedings to be brought to him, and, after he had
read them through carefully, he burned them with
his own hands. The same fate probably befell the
incriminating letters. Extraordinary care was taken
at Hanover to suppress or destroy any and every
compromising document or paper which contained
mention of Sophie Dorothea or Konigsmarck. Despite
these precautions, the most damning evidence of
aU came to light. Some workmen employed in
renovating the wing formerly occupied by Sophie
Dorothea in the Palace of Hanover, came across
the skeleton of a man, almost unrecognisable from
quicklime, but, from a ring and fragments of cloth
ing, was identified as that of the missing Count
Konigsmarck. Orders were given that the place
should be bricked up again, and the remains were
thrust out of sight once for all — probably pulverised
and cast into the river Leine.
These things go to prove that the son lacked
the courage to do justice to his mother's memory.

662 trbe Xove of an tancrowneb diueen
or he believed her guilty. In death, as in life, Sophie
Dorothea continued to be the Iron Mask of the
House of Hanover.
But we can afford to be more merciful in our
judgment. Whatever were the faults of her youth,
she atoned for them fourfold. Her dauntless spirit,
her fortitude, her dignified resignation through long
years of captivity, invest her memory with a halo of
suffering. Her love and her sorrows plead for her —
her sorrows most of all, for It may be doubted if aU
history, all romance, can offer a parallel to the long-
drawn agony of the life of this uncrowned queen.

APPENDIX

LIST OF AUTHORITIES QUOTED, AND BOOKS TO
WHICH REFERENCE HAS BEEN MADE.
UNPUBLISHED MSS.
The Correspondence of Princess Sophie Dorothea and Philip
Christopher, Count Konigsmarck, 1691 — 1693 (in French).
Preserved in the University Library of Lund, Sweden.
The Despatches and Correspondence of Sir William Dutton Colt,
Envoy-Extraordinary to the Princes of Brunswick and Liineburg,
1689 — 1693. In the State Paper Office, London.
The Despatches and Correspondence of Mr. Cresset {who suc
ceeded Sir W. D. Colt at Hanover) and his secretaries, 1693 — 1 702.
In the State Paper OfSce, London.
The Despatches of Mr, Poley {who succeeded Mr, Cresset at
Hanover), 1705. In the State Paper Office, London.
Sundry Letters of Mr, Stepney, sometime British Envoy to the
Court of Dresden, 1694 — 1695. In the State Paper Office,
London. Sundry Letters and Papers (in French and German), specified
elsewhere. Preserved in the Royal Archives and Library,
Hanover, and at Brunswick and Dresden.
VOL. II. 6^3 21

664 Hppenbis
PUBLISHED WORKS.
Die Herzogin von Ahlden, Stammutter der KonigUchen Hduser
Hannover und Preussen. Leipzig, 1852. Now out of print.
Written anonymously by Count Schulenburg-Klosterrode.
Die Prinzessin mn Ahlden. By Dr. Adolph Kocher. Two
articles in Sybel's Historische Zeitschrift, 1882, vol. xlviii.
RSmischen Octavia, 1707, vol. vi. By Duke Antony Ulrich of
Wolfenbiittel. The Magazine of the Historical Association of Lower Saxony,
1879- Sophie Dorothea, Prinzessin von Ahlden und Kurfiirstin Sophie
von Hannover. By A. F. H. Schaumann. Hanover, 1879.
Briefe der Herzogin von Orleans, Elizabeth Charlotte, an die
Kurfiirstin Sophie von Hanover.
Briefe der Prinzessin Elisabeth Charlotte von Orleans, 1676 —
1722. Memoiren der Herzogin Sophie, nachmals Kurfiirstin von
Hannover. Dr. Adolph Kocher. Leipzig, 1879.
Memoires du rigne de George I. " Anon." The Hague, 1729.
Letters with varied contents. Frankfurt and Leipzig, 1772.
Geschichte der Herzogin von Ahlden, Copenhagen, 1786.
Short Narrative of my Fate and Imprisonment. Hamburg, 1840.
Edited by " W. L. MoUor." (Major Miiller.)
This purports to be an autobiography written by the Princess
Sophie Dorothea, but it is spurious. Yet the deeds and letters
quoted show that the author had access to some genuine docu
ments, and point to the writer being Major Muller, librarian to the
late Duke of Cambridge.
Memoirs of Sophie Dorothea. Two vols. London, 1845. Out of
print. Translated into the German also. Written anonymously.
[By Major Miiller, sometime librarian to the late Duke of
Cambridge.]

Hppenbij 665
This covers much the same ground as the Short Narrative, and
also contains some authentic documents and papers. Like the
Short Narrative it is evidently based on Duke Antony Ulrich's
Octavia. But the "Diary of Conversations,'' in vol. ii., purporting
to be vreitten by Sophie Dorothea, is undoubtedly spurious.
Aurora Kdnigsmarck. By Professor W. F. Palmblad. Six vols.
Translated from the Swedish into the German. Leipzig, 1853.
Out of print.
An Article on Fresh Contributions to the History of the Hano
verian Princess Sophie Dorothea, By Edward Bodemann.
Histoire Secrette de la Duchesse D Hanover, Epouse de Georges
Premier. London, 1732. Ascribed to Baron von Poellnitz
(some say erroneously).
Lives of the Queens of t lie House of Hanover. By Dr. Doran.
The Four Georges, By W. M. Thackeray.
Memoirs of the Court of England, By I. H. Jesse.
Lives of the Queens of England. (Mary II. and Anne.) By
Agnes Strickland.
The Electress Sophia. Article in The Quarterly Review,
vol. 161.
Carlyle's Frederick II.
Macaulay's History of England,
Horace Walpole's Reminiscences,
Lord Hervey's Memoirs.
Eleonore d'Olbreuse. By the Baroness von Amstel. Article
in Nineteenth Century, 1898.

INDEX

Act of Settlement
Ahlden, prisoner of .
 Author's notes on .
Ahlfeld, fall of Principality of .
Alte Palais at Hanover .
Amalie Wllhelmina, Countess
Lewenhaupt .
Angelica d'Olbreuse .
Anne, Princess of York .
 Queen of England .
 letter to Sophia
 death of .
Antony Ulrich, Duke of Wolf
enbiittel
 Roman Octavia
Appendix.Arenswald, Madame von .
Augustus, Duke of Brunswick .
 Frederick of Wolfenbuttel
 betrothed to Sophie
Dorothea
 death of .
 the Strong (Elector of
Saxony)
 and Aurora Konigsmarck
Aurora von Kdnigsmarck .
 and Augustus the Strong .

PAGE 576
598 85
118 1659
621
623 626 229
617663 583 2
30 3134
129
488 118
488

Authorities quoted . . . 663
Author's notes on Ahlden . 576
B
Balati, French envoy to Han-

over

¦ 344. 384

Bar, Count de .

• • 635

Bergest, Count Sigismunc

I . 582

Berlin

. 368

Bernstorff, Prime Minister of

Celle .

. 46

Biegle, The .

. . 36

Bielke, Monsieur

• 255

Bill of Succession

. 602

Bohemia, Queen of .

610

Boidavis, Madame .

¦ 449

Books of reference .

663

Borosky .

. 124

Bothmer, Charles Augusti

IS von 582

Boyne, battle of the .

• 159

Brandenburg, Elector of

. 100

 Baron von

. 265

 Electress of

• 343

 death of .

.613

Breda

. 10

Bremen, Duchy of .

• 70

Brockhausen, the tryst at

• 375

667

668

3n^ci

PAGE
Brunswick . . . .162
Buccolini, Lucas (Bucco or
Buccow) . . 4
 Signora .... 4
Bull-baiting . . . .311
Bulow, Mimster of Celle 353, 549
Busche, Councillor . . .42
 marriage of . . -43
 Madame, Mistress of
George Louis . . 45
 banished from Hanover, 80, 86
 George von . . .582

Cambridge and Prince George
Louis ....
Carlsbad 
Caroline, Consort of George IV.
 of Anspach, marriage of
Catherine of Braganza
Celle, Castle of
 Court of .
CharleroyCharles II. of England
Charles, Prince of Brunswick-
Liineburg
 death of .
Christian Louis, Duke of Celle
 Duke of Celle .
 Duke of Brunswick-Liine
burg .
Coalition against Louis XIV.
Colin ....
Colt, Sir WilUam Dutton . 146,
 death of .
Consarbruck
Correspondencebetween Sophie
Dorothea and Konigs
marck . . . 203-476
 history and authenticity
of the .... 172

60
164 2
613
• 52
2, 18
2,37
54. 352
6, 10

III 158
2,5 3

3
141 25
167
448 54

Correspondence between
Sophie Dorothea and
Kdnigsmarck, theory of
key to cypher . .184
 between Knesebeck and
Konigsmarck . 290-291, 338
Court mistresses . . .41
Cresset, envoy at Hanover, 448, 481
Crossing the rubicon . . 226
Cumberland Gallery at Herren
hausen . . . .27
D

Danes, campaign against

405,

441

Darlington, Countess of .

628,

637

D'Egmont, Comte .

.

338

De la Roque, Colt's secretary .

147

Denmark, King of .

36

De Reuss, Comte .

,

16

De Tarente, Princess

10

Dist 

313.

357

D'Olbreuse, Angelica

16

 Eleonore .

10
 Marquis .
10
Doubts and fears
274
Dresden, Court of .
129
376
E
East Friesland, Princess-
Dowager OF . . 232
Edict of Nantes . . .10
Elector Palatine of the Rhenish
Provinces . • 5, 8
Electors of the German Empire 144
. 10
Eleonore d'Olbreuse
 married to George William
 Madame von Harburg
 progress of . . .
 Countess of Wilhelmsburg
 Duchess of Celle
 will of ... .
death of
1516
2127
¦ 33
. 610
• 639
3nbe$

669

Elizabeth, daughter of James I.
 Charlotte, Duchess
d'Orleans
Epsdorff .... 213,
Ernest Augustus, Duke of
Brunswick-Liineburg
 betrothed to Sophia .
 married to Sophia .
 Bishop of Osnabriick
 Duke of Hanover
 attempt to murder .
 Elector of Hanover .
 illness of .
 death of .

25
343
2,4 79
), 14
39
226373
478 587

Ferdinand ....
Flanders, campaign in . 1 59,
Fortiere, Seigneur de la .
Foubert's Academy .
Frankfort fair ....
Frederick, Duke of Brunswick-
Liineburg
 Prince Palatine, ex-King
of Bohemia .
 the Great of Prussia
 Augustus of Saxony
 Elector of Saxony .
 William, Crown Prince of
Prussia ....

314 218 545 121
343

5
108129
484615

Gadd, j. H., assistant-librarian
at Lund .... 178
Gardie, Count de la . . 176, 421
George, Duke of Brunswick-
Liineburg ... 2
 Augustus of Hanover
(George II.), birth of . 94
 reminiscences . . . 596
 attempt to see Sophie
Dorothea . . . S97

George Augustus of Hanover,
marriage of . .613
 Frederick, Elector of
Saxony .... 484
 Louis (George I.), birth of 9
 goes a-wooing . . .52
 disposition of . . .53
 at the Court of Louis XIV. 54
 visit to England . . 57
 betrothed to Sophie
Dorothea . . 71, 78
 married to Sophie Doro
thea
 illness of .
 Elector of Hanover .
 Knight of the Garter
 King of England

 entry into London .
 death of .
 William, Duke of Hanover
 betrothed to Sophia .
 wooing of Eleonore .
 Duke of Celle .
 married to El6onore
 fondness for George II.
 death of .
German Empire, Electors of
Germany, Emperor of
Ghent .
Gloucester, Duke of.
Glove, the embroidered
GohreGoodsblut, Widow .
Goritz, M. de .
Gourville, French envoy
Hanover
Green, Mrs. Everett .
H
Hague, Congress at the .
Hamelin, Castle of .

82
218 588
603 627
629 659 2-5
. 7
. 10
• 14
15. 33
. 596
. 609
• 144
• 19
340, 462
. 600
156, 168
214, 314
. 265
316, 449
to • 39
. 178

163
229

670

3nbej

PAGE
Hanover, Court of . 2, 39, 85, 156
 Alte Palais . . 85
Harburg, Madame von . . 16
Heidelburg . . • 5, 7
Henry the Lion, Duke o f
Bavaria and Saxony 1
Herrenhausen . . .27, 87
Hesse, Prince of . . . 343
Hildebrand, Konigsmarck's
secretary . . 136
Howard, Mrs  604
Hungary, campaign in . 103

. 109
. 104
¦ 583

I
Ilse, Abigail .
Ilten, General von .
 Madame von .
J
James I. of England . 5
 II. of England . 103
Jenappe  358
John Frederick, Duke of
Brunswick-Luneburg, 2, 8, 13
 Duke of Hanover . . 14
 death of . . . 38
K
Kendal, Duchess of, 1 14, 637, 659
Kielmansegge, Madame . . 628
 nickname . . . 636
 Countess of Darlington . 637
Knesebeck, Eleonore von . 92
 arrest of . . . 527
 prisoner at Springe . • SSo
 exaraination of . 550
 removal to Schwartzfels . 550
 escape of . . . 593
Kocher, Dr. . . . 191
Konigsmarck, Amalie Wllhel
mina . . . .118
 Aurora . . . u8

Konigsmarck, Count Carl John 119
 trial of . . . 125
 death of .... 129
 Count Philip Christopher,
boyhood at Celle . 28, 35
 in England . .120
 at Hanover . . . 130
 Colonel of Hanoverian
Guards .
 and Countess Platen

137151154
159
168

- in the Morea .
- retum to Hanover
- entertainment by
- correspondence Sophie Dorothea
- sent to Sweden as envoy 205
- retums from the war . 343
- at Dresden
• murder of.
¦ burial of .
¦ discovery of body of

with . 203-476

S15
661

Lambeque, camp at . . 299
Lambeth manuscripts . 52
La Marionette .... 345
La Rose, Court physician 385
Lassaye, Marquis de . 105
Lauenburg, Duke of 455
Le Barbouilleur . . 304, 347
Le Dondon . . 370
Leibnitz, Professor . 49
Leine Schloss at Hanover . 87
Leopold, Emperor . . 141
Lewenhaupt, Countess of .118
 Count .... 136
Linden, battle of . . . 460
Locker, Dean 48
Loo . . . • . 601
Louis XIV  10
 Defender of the Faith 39

5nbe$

671

Louis XIV., European coalition
against . . . .141
Louvain ..... 313
Ludemann.bailiff of Ahlden, 635,648
Luisburg . . .251, 300, 378
Lund, University of. . .172
Luxemburg, French General . 250
M
Macclesfield, Lord . . 603
Maestricht . . . .54
Malortie, Marshal von .130
Mannheim . . . .142
Marlortie, Herr and Madame 582-3
Marriage settlement and con
tract of Sophie Dorothea
and George Louis . 79, 82
Mary, Princess of York . . 53
Matilda, daughter of Henry II. l
Maximilian, Prince of Hanover in
 intrigues of . . 226, 478
Meissenburg, Count Carl Philip
von . . .42
 Catherine Marie von . 41
 married to Busche . . 43
 Clara Elizabeth von . .41
 married to Platen . . 43
Milan  226
Military adventurers . . 41
MolUneux. . . . 625
Moltke, conspiracy . . 226
 execution of . . .251
Monplalsir . . . -96
 fall of ... . 164
Morea, the, campaign in . .154
N
Namur, siege and fall of . . 249
Naples . -105
Nassau, Count of . .361
Neerwinden, battle of 462

Northumberland, Dowager-
Countess of . . .121

O
Ogle, Countess of
Orleans, Duchess of.
Osnabriick
 Court of .
Otho WiUiam, Count
 death of .
Ovenair .
Oxanstern, Count .

. 121
599. 608, 619
9. 14
39
28
134
340 339

Palmblad, Professor .
Passion, the dawn of
Phillipsburg, siege of
Platen, Countess
 marriage of
 Baron
 Count
 treachery of
 interview with Sophi
Dorothea
 Madame, opposed
Eleonore
 mistress of Ernest Augus
tus
 jealousy of
 Countess, the power of
 and Konigsmarck

to

¦ and Bernstorff .
• illness of .

 retirement to Monplalsir
 death of .
Playing with fire
Pless, General
Podevils, Marshal .
Poellnitz (historian) .
Poley, envoy to Celle
Portland, Lord

177
202 34
4243 96
109
523
528 454596
101 151
531
574 588
613 136
413257 133
611 293

672

Snt>ci

Portsmouth, Duchess of .
Primogeniture, establishment
of 
 opposition to .
Prisoner of Ahlden .
Prussia, Queen of, correspon
dence with Sophie
Dorothea
 marriage scheme of .
Pyrmont 

QUEROUAILLE, LoUISE DE

PAGE 41
112
227 570

R

634641 26

41

Ramel, Baron Hans

175

Ratze, Marie .

585

Ratzeburg

455

Reference, books of

663
Retribution
652
Reuss, Comte de
16
 Countess de .
35
Rhine, campaign on the
54
Richmond, Duke of .
306
¦ 313
Roman Octavia
617
Roohlitz, Countess von
484
Royal mistresses
41
Rudolph Augustus of Wolfen
biittel .
29
Rupert, Prince .
51
Ryswick, peace of .
145
Sacrifice of Sophie Dorothea 67
Sandys, Dr. . . . 604
Saxe-Eisenach, Duchess of .170
Saxe, Marshal de . . . 544
Saxony, Augustus, Elector of . 129
Schaumann .... 191
Schulenburg, Ermengarda Melu
sina von . 1 14, 627, 629
Schulenburg, Ermengarda Melu
sina von, nickname of . 636
 Duchess of Kendal . . 637
Schulenburg-Klosterrode, Count 178
Sophia, Princess of Bohemia . 5
 betrothed to George
William .... 7
 betrothed to Ernest
Augustus ... 7
 married to Ernest
Augustus ... 9
 Electress o f Hanover,
genealogy of . . - 23
 ¦ moral character . . 47
 and Madame Platen . 49
 and the throne of England 49
 at Celle . . . .67
 • death of . . . . 621
 Charlotte, Princess of
Hanover . . .41
 Electress of Brandenburg 100
 death of . . . . 613
Sophie Dorothea of Celle, gene
alogy of. . . I, 19
 birth of . . . .17
 legitimised . . .27
 betrothed to Augustus
Frederick of Wolfen
biittel . . . .31
 betrothed to George Louis
of Hanover . . 71, 78
 disposition of . . .77
 married to George Louis
(George I.) . . .82
 entry into Hanover . . 85
 birth of George Augustus 94
 and Madame Platen . 97
105
 and Marquis de Lassaye .
 birth of Sophie Dorothea
(Queen of Prussia) . 108
 correspondence with
Kdnigsmarck . 203-476
Sn^cs

673

Sophie Dorothea of Celle,

ar-

V

rival at Ahlden

532

Venice 

4. 7

 divorce of .

569

Verden, Duchy of

70

 prisoner at Ahlden .

. 570

Verona, siege of . . .

128

 petitions of

590

Victoria, Queen

19

 return to Celle .

• 598

Vratz, Captain ....

124

 return to Ahlden

599

 literary labours

¦633

W

 correspondence w
th
Welling, Monsieur
233
Queen of Prussia .
¦ 634
Westphalia, treaty of
I
 death of .
.651
Weyke, General . .115,
467
 burial of .
¦ 654
Wienhausen
95
 curse of .
657
Wiesbaden
318
St. Denis ....
¦ 54
Wilhelmsburg ....
26
Steinbock, Count de
. 421
 Countess of . . 27, 29
Steinkirk, battle of .
298, 301
WilUam of Orange, marriage of
53
Stepney, envoy at Dresden
• 484
 and the throne of England
56
Stem, Lieutenant .
. 124
 and the Prince of Wales .
602
Wisdom of serpents
34
T
Witgenstein ....
543
Thynne, Thomas .
. 123
Y
 murder of
. 125
York, Princess Mary of
53
Toland (historian)
. 605
 Princess Anne of
53
Treves ....
• 54
 Duke of .
57
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