The Princess of Celle

Murder in Pall Mall

COUNT PHILIP CHRISTOPHER KÖNIGSMARCK – handsome and adventurous – had come back, as he had always promised himself that he would, to see his little playmate who had made such an impression on him when he was sixteen years old. During an exciting life, when perhaps some love affair had gone wrong, some woman had disappointed him, he would remember the scent of the lime trees at Celle and an enchanting little girl who had adored him.

Rumours had reached Saxony where he had been staying of her marriage to George Lewis; the power of Clara von Platen; the devotion of George Lewis to Fraulein von Schulenburg; the indignation of Sophia Dorothea.

Königsmarck lived for adventure – the more romantic the better; so he left Saxony and came to Hanover, determined to set up house and stay there for a while. He was very rich, for since the death of his elder brother he had inherited the title of Count, and he was made welcome at any of the European courts on account of his money, reputation and charm.

The Königsmarcks were a famous, wealthy and close-knit Swedish family. Philip remembered early days in Sweden where he had lived with his two sisters Amalie Wilhemina and Marie Aurora; there was an elder brother Carl John, who impatiently awaiting the day when he would go with his father or his uncle, Count Otho William, to serve under them, would fight his mock battles in the nursery. Young Philip, learning his geography because his brother was always fighting his imaginary battles in different places over the Continent, made up his mind that when he was older he would join Carl John and go fighting and adventuring with him. He could scarcely wait for the day. In the meantime he must be content with the company of his sisters who adored him.

Their father was a great soldier – though not quite as famous as uncle Otho William; but when Philip was about twelve he died. Carl John immediately joined his uncle; as for Philip he was a little young but, said Uncle Otho William, there was no reason why he should remain in Sweden. He could not begin to learn the art of soldiering soon enough, and must travel. So Philip travelled, studying and learning how to be a soldier at the same time; and this was how he came to be in Celle when he was sixteen and first met Sophia Dorothea.

Returning to Sweden he had been a little disconsolate until Carl John returned from his travels. Carl John, now the head of the family, took his duties seriously and it did not take Philip long to persuade him that something must be done.

‘Am I to stay here learning from books?’ demanded Philip.

‘Now what was it you did in Celle to be turned out?’ Carl John wanted to know; but of course he knew already and there was a twinkle in his eyes. The little Princess had been attracted by him and the Duchess of Celle had thought a mere Swedish nobleman not good enough to be a match for the daughter. ‘Well, it was no fault of yours,’ went on Carl John. ‘You merely followed the instincts of a gallant young gentleman. You must progress in the world and then one day you may be considered worthy of any Princess.’

They were good days with Carl John, who was a great talker. And what tales he had to tell. He had almost been drowned when fighting the Turks; he had visited almost every country in Europe with Uncle Otho William who worked for the French and had been a Field Marshal there, as well as Governor of Swedish Pomerania. And Carl John was as dashing an adventurer as his uncle. ‘All the Königsmarcks are the same,’ he confided to Philip. ‘Wherever we are, there is adventure.’ And Philip went on dreaming of the days when he would be free to roam the world.

In the schoolroom Carl John re-enacted the bull fight in which he had taken such a noble part when he was in Madrid. He leapt about the room teasing an imaginary bull.

‘There was the bull coming at me; I leaped aside. But he caught me. Gored through the thigh. A few more inches and it would have been farewell Carl John.’

‘I thank God it was not so.’

‘Why boy, then you would have been a Count.’

‘I prefer that you should be one.’

‘Bless you. There was I with the blood gushing from me … but I went on fighting the bull to the end.’

‘I wish I could fight bulls.’

‘Dangerous occupation, my boy. Far better to serenade the ladies, which I did too. Now I have plans for you. We’re to leave Sweden.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘To England. It’s a merry place since the King came back. His court is even gayer than that of France, where there is too much etiquette. England is gay and friendly and the King is more familiar with his people than Louis would ever be. We shall go to court there. At least I shall. You shall have to study for a while. I have seen our King and he has promised to give me letters of introduction to the King of England. You should begin to prepare yourself for departure.’

Philip often thought about the excitement of those days. To travel was always fun, but to travel with Carl John was bliss itself. They had taken the ship from Gothenburg, to embark on a stormy sea and arriving at Hull they travelled straight to London.

The excitement had ceased a little then for Philip was still regarded as a boy and although Carl John was made welcome by the King of England and his cronies, Philip was found a lodging not far from Whitehall and from here he travelled to Foubert’s Academy in the Haymarket to continue his military studies. But it was not enough for a man of his rank to be a soldier merely, Carl John had pointed out; he must be educated as a gentleman and for this purpose a Mr. Hanson was engaged as his tutor, for, said Carl John, he wished his brother to take a degree at an English University, preferably Oxford.

This was not the life of adventure Philip had dreamed of; but he was allowed to explore the noisy streets which were gay and vulgar and had much to delight a young man. He would wander down the middle aisle of St. Paul’s which had since the Restoration become less of a church than a promenade and market. Here were the money lenders and the marriage brokers; he liked to stand about and listen to their talk. ‘It is learning the language,’ he explained to his tutor who had been commanded to see to his morals as well as his English. The letter writers, the vendors of ribbons and ballads, the confidence tricksters and the thieves all congregated in Paul’s Walk; and of all the fascinating spots in this most exhilarating town, this was the most stimulating. Chief of all there were the girls and their guardians, the ladies looking for rich lovers; Philip’s handsome appearance brought him his adventures among these; but Carl John, while indulging in his own, was eager that his brother should be well protected and Philip was expected to spend more time with his books and the military academy than with young women.

But however exciting his life, Carl John never forgot to spend much of it with his brother, and Philip looked forward to those days when Carl John came to his lodgings and talked as he used to at home in Sweden. There for the young Königsmarck’s edification and amusement Carl John acted out his adventures so that Philip learned a great deal about the court – about the King and his ladies and the Duke of York and his; and how the Duke of York caused anxiety by flirting with the Catholic faith. He heard stories of the antagonism that reigned between the King’s two chief mistresses the cockney Nell Gwyn and the aristocratic Frenchwoman who was the Duchess of Portsmouth. It was all highly exciting and entertaining. And, said Carl John, he had a mind to settle down here and he had chosen an English lady for his bride.

This was exciting news for Philip could think of no place in which he would rather settle than in London and if Carl John married it would surely mean that they would have a home in this land.

‘She is very young yet,’ Carl John explained.

‘Younger than I?’

‘Ha! Much.’

‘You would marry a child? Is she very beautiful?’

‘I would say she is not. She has a head of red hair and is called Carrots. But she has plenty to make up for that. She is the richest heiress in England.’

‘So it is her money you would have?’

‘Nay, don’t look at me so sternly, brother. I like the girl and I’ll swear she likes me too. She’s a widow already.’

Philip stared at his brother. ‘It is all so unexpected,’ he explained. ‘I am not surprised that you are going to marry an heiress, but she should be a beautiful young woman, not a carrotty girl who has already had a husband.’

‘The marriage was not consummated – she being of too tender an age. I shall have to fight for her for I have my rivals, but I fancy I am the favoured one.’

‘Certainly you must be,’ agreed Philip smiling fondly at his brother.

‘You haven’t asked her name. Well, I’ll tell you. It is Lady Ogle. She married Henry Cavendish, Earl of Ogle and before that she was Lady Elizabeth Percy. What I have to do is to win over her mother, the Dowager Countess of Northumberland, before I can hope to have the girl.’

‘You will,’ Philip assured him. ‘But why do you want her fortune when you are already rich?’

‘With my fortune and hers I should be the richest man in England. What a pleasant distinction that would be.’

‘Bring her to see me.’

‘My dear Philip you don’t imagine I am allowed to escort her through London, do you? That girl is guarded as though she were the Crown Jewels. I’ll swear she’s worth as much.’

After that, every day Philip expected to hear that his brother was affianced, but it did not work out that way. Once when his brother took him to court, he saw Elizabeth. In her widow’s weeds which looked so odd on one so young, she seemed to like Carl John for her eyes sparkled at the sight of him, but the Dowager Countess was not encouraging.

Carl John told Philip that he was going to ask formally for the hand of Lady Ogle and that the King himself – who greatly favoured him – had promised to speak to the Dowager Countess on his behalf.

‘That,’ he said, ‘will decide matters. She may hold out against me, but she won’t against the King.’

So all the next day Philip had waited for the return of his jubilant brother; but how differently it turned out. When Carl John did come to his lodging he was in a great rage. He had been dismissed by the Dowager Countess who had refused to give him her daughter, declaring that when Lady Ogle married it would be to an Englishman, for she did not like foreigners. So even the King’s intercession had done nothing for him.

Never had Philip seen his brother so angry. He kept pacing up and down the room declaring that he would have his revenge, as well as the girl. Elizabeth wanted him; he swore she was weeping for him now; and he had been told to go and not speak to her again!

‘But the King …’ cried Philip. ‘He will command the Dowager Countess to let you be betrothed to Elizabeth.’

‘Not he. He avoids what is unpleasant. He’ll merely shrug his shoulders and refuse to discuss the matter further. He hates any sort of trouble and he would be the first to say that it is for the girl’s family to decide who shall have her and her fortune.’

‘Well, what are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to get out of this country.’

‘When do we leave?’

‘I’m going. I want you to stay and go to Oxford. I’ll be back and I want time to think about this. I don’t want to go back to court where I have been so insulted.’

‘You mean I’m to stay here alone!’

‘Till I come back for you. You like it here. You’re getting along well. You couldn’t find better tutors anywhere than Hanson and Foubert. Work hard and I’ll be back with you soon.’

It was no use trying to dissuade him; he was going to join a foray against the Moors and Philip could not accompany him there, so he must perforce carry out his studies and dream of the day when he would be a fully fledged soldier, and go off at a whim on his own adventures. The harder he worked, the sooner that time would come.

So he tried to settle down; he said goodbye to his brother and he went daily to Foubert’s Academy where he became the most promising pupil; and sometimes by day he would roam those colourful streets and now and then make the acquaintance of some girl.

‘Don’t you forget your brother’s wishes,’ Hanson reminded him. ‘It’s a soldier you’ve got to become first – and then there’s Oxford and you’re at a disadvantage being a foreigner.’

But during those months in London Philip did not believe there were any disadvantages he could not overcome.

Hanson came into the lodging one day where Philip sat over his books and it was obvious that the man was excited.

‘Such news!’ he cried. ‘It’s a blessing the Count’s not here or he’d go round cutting someone’s throat.’

‘What is it?’ demanded Philip excitedly.

‘Well, there is a fellow named Thomas Thynne at court. Thomas Thynne of Longleat. Tom of Ten Thousand, he’s called, because he has ten thousand pounds a year and he’s one of the richest men at court and one of the stupidest, they say. He’s a friend of the Duke of Monmouth – the King’s own son, wrong side of the blanket, but none the less proud for all that – and set to make trouble, they say.’

‘Well what of this man Thynne?’

‘He has just married. Very quiet it was but it seems her mother arranged it. There were too many after her money so she wanted to make sure that a man with plenty of his own got her.’

‘It’s not … Lady Ogle!’

‘You’ve guessed right first time.’

Philip was aghast. ‘But she was for my brother.’

‘Not now, sir. She’s the wife of Tom of Ten Thousand.’

‘My brother will be angry. He was determined to have her.’

‘Then he shouldn’t have gone away and left the field clear.’

‘Do you think he knows of this?’

‘’Tis hardly likely – he being where he is.’

‘Perhaps I should tell him.’

‘You should keep out of trouble, young sir. What’s done is done and they’re married now. All the dashing Counts in the world can’t alter that.’

Philip was thoughtful. It was the first time he had known his brother could fail. Later he heard rumours of how the young bride, who was fifteen years old, had gone to The Hague in the company of Lady Temple so that the marriage might not be consummated, the girl still being considered too young, in addition to which she protested that she hated the husband to whom they had married her. Philip guessed why she hated him; it was because she had wanted to marry his brother. What a pity Carl John had not stayed in England to abduct her and prevent this marriage.

From time to time he heard news of the marriage. Thomas Thynne was claiming his wife’s property and demanding that she be returned to him.

Philip lost interest because his brother was no longer concerned; he had had a letter from Carl John to tell him that he was now staying for a while in France and might soon be with him. He devoted himself to his studies with great fervour hoping to surprise his brother by his progress on his return.

But he never had an opportunity to do so for Carl John had other matters than his brother’s education on his mind. The first indication Philip had of this was when Captain Vratz, one of his brother’s men, called at his lodgings.

Philip leaped at the man and cried: ‘My brother! Where is my brother?’

‘Still in France, young sir. But I’ll swear it won’t be long before he is in London.’

‘Then I rejoice. I want to show him what advances I have made. I am going to ask him to forget all about the university and let me go straight to the army.’

Captain Vratz said: ‘Your brother is concerned in a matter of great importance to him.’

‘What matter!’ Philip was eager. His brother only had to hint at returning and life was exciting again.

‘The Count is most disturbed as to the ill-treatment of a certain young lady living at The Hague, and I have come over here to challenge a fellow known as Tom of Ten Thousand to a duel. Once the challenge is accepted your brother will come to England to kill the fellow.’

‘He has said this, Vratz?’

‘It is his intention.

‘Is it a secret?’

‘All London will soon be talking of it.’

‘I wish my brother were not going to fight a duel. What if he should be killed?’

‘The Count! Never. It is this Thynne man who will die. Then it will be for the Count to console the widow and she will be very ready to be consoled by such a handsome gentleman.’

‘Still … it is dangerous.’

‘Don’t you fret, young gentleman. Your brother has come through worse danger than this, I can assure you.’

Philip tried not to. But it was difficult when one was outside an adventure not to fret. If he were partaking in it he would know only the excitement; as it was he kept wondering what would happen if his brother were killed. And if he killed Thomas Thynne, would that be called murder? It seemed to him that whatever the outcome, there was cause for anxiety.

Vratz returned to his lodgings to tell him he was leaving for France. He was furious because Thynne had laughed in his face and declined the challenge; and the Captain had discovered that Thynne had sent six men to France to murder Count Königsmarck.

‘Go to him quickly,’ cried Philip. ‘Warn him.’

‘You can trust me. It won’t be the Count who’s murdered I can tell you that.’

A few days later, Philip was surprised and delighted by another visitor: his brother had returned to London.

‘In secret,’ Carl John told him, his eyes gleaming with a mingling of anger, excitement and love of adventure.

‘What are you going to do?’ Philip begged to know.

‘You’ll see,’ his brother promised him.

He did. On the following Sunday, in the murk of a February evening Thomas Thynne’s coach was stopped when he was riding in Pall Mall by Vratz, but it was one of Count Königsmarck’s two servants – one Pole, one Swede – who fired the blunderbuss which killed Thomas Thynne.

The hue and cry went up through London and early next morning Philip heard the excitement in the streets, and leaned out of his window to call to a passer-by to tell him the news.

‘Tom of Ten Thousand’s been murdered, sir. And they say it’s all along of his having married a wife.’

Philip was alarmed. If Thomas Thynne had been murdered, his brother was involved. He stayed in his rooms waiting for Mr. Hanson, not daring to go out.

Where was Carl John? He had not come to his brother’s lodging last night, nor had he sent any message.

Mr. Hanson at last came breathlessly running up the stairs – but not to stay.

‘I thought I should warn you,’ he said. ‘Your brother’s two servants, Stern and Boroski, have been arrested with Captain Vratz and they have admitted to the murder they committed on the orders of your brother.’

‘And my brother?’

‘I heard he was on his way to the Continent. Whether he has reached there I don’t know. I shan’t stay. There is nothing I can do … and they’ll be coming here to ask you questions at any minute.’

Hanson left him and he was alone, bewildered and afraid. His brother’s servants prisoners! His brother in flight! What was happening to Carl John and what would they do to him if they caught him? And what could his young brother do alone in a foreign country?

Those were anxious days. Carl John, attempting to leave England, had been captured at Gravesend and was now waiting to face a charge of murder. Strange men came to Philip’s lodgings to question him. What did he know of this affair? Had his brother confided in him? To all these questions he gave discreet answers; and when he was in difficulties feigned an imperfect knowledge of the language. Fearful as he was of his brother’s safety, he could congratulate himself that he had done nothing to endanger it. Hanson was summoned to appear at the trial; and there he spoke so cleverly in Count Königsmarck’s defence that it was said he had an influence on the trial. Of the murder he knew nothing; all he knew was that Count Carl John had entrusted him with the care of his young brother’s education, for he wanted him to be brought up a good Protestant and he felt he could become this better in England than anywhere else; he wanted him to have the best military education and he believed that this could be acquired more thoroughly in England; he wanted his brother to be educated at that seat of learning, Oxford, which he believed to be the best in the world. Such admissions although they had little to do with the murder of Thomas Thynne showed Count Königsmarck to the English as a highly discerning man.

Philip went to the Old Bailey to hear the trial; he was even called upon to give evidence which he did in a firm voice, implying that it was quite impossible for his brother to be involved in such a case. He was aware of Carl John’s approval coming across the court to him. But he was frightened by the solemnity about him, by the sight of his brother – the bold adventurer standing side by side with his servants who had betrayed him.

Going back to his lodgings through those crowded streets Philip heard the name Königsmarck on many tongues.

‘Of course Königsmarck’s the real villain. Those others were only his tools.’

‘He should hang by his neck. These foreigners …’

Those merry streets became very sinister for Philip during those days.

And then … the verdict. Vratz, Stern and Boroski guilty and condemned to be hanged in chains. Königsmarck acquitted.

There was murmuring in the streets. All the men were foreigners and therefore little concern of the English, but one of them, the leader, Königsmarck, had murdered an Englishman, and the English wanted retribution.

‘Hang Königsmarck!’ cried the people in the streets.

And Philip, making his way to his lodgings, trembled for his brother.

Life could not go on in the same way after such an episode. For one thing, Carl John had to leave England before outraged public opinion caused the law to take some action against him or the mob decided to take the law into its own hands. He left for Sweden, but Philip did not go with him. Carl John really had believed that his brother could acquire in England the education which would be of most use to him, so he wished his young brother to stay on under the care of Mr. Hanson.

For a few weeks Philip studied miserably in his lodgings; but he was a Königsmarck and the people of London did not like one who bore such a name. ‘Brother to the murderer!’ they declared. ‘The murderer who got off scot free while his servants paid for his crimes.’ London was not a healthy place for a Königsmarck, and Mr. Hanson made Carl John aware of this. In a short time Philip heard that he was to travel to Sweden in the care of his tutor.

They left England on a blustery March day and after a hazardous journey reached Gothenburg.

It was pleasant to see Carl John again but it was a very restive and frustrated brother whom Philip found. He hated to be defeated, he admitted; and the English adventure had been a humiliating one. For a little while Carl John looked after his estates and taught Philip to help him; but Philip was well aware that such a state of affairs could not last. He was right. A month or so after Philip’s return, Carl John announced his intention to join Uncle Otho William and immediately plunged into preparations. Very soon, Philip was alone, dreaming of the time when he would be able to join his brother.

Carl John sent word that he did not expect his brother to remain in Sweden. Although England was barred to him, other courts were not. The most glittering court in the world was at Versailles; Carl John did not see why his young brother should not visit France; there, he was convinced that he could learn more graceful manners than he could in England.

So to Versailles went Philip, and after a pleasant stay there, he travelled to other European countries, always awaiting that call to join his brother.

He would never forget the day the long-awaited news of Carl John came to him. But it was not a call to join him; and he knew then that there would never be one. Carl John was dead – not gloriously, as one would have expected him to die, in battle, in the midst of some reckless adventure – but of pleurisy, brought on through exposure during a battle.

Philip was the new Count Königsmarck.

He grieved for his brother bitterly; but eventually he began to understand that he was rich, accomplished, handsome, and that because of these assets he would be welcomed in almost every court in Europe.

He travelled; he indulged in many a love affair; he had become as romantic a figure as the brother whom he had always tried to copy. He was the darling of his sisters; he had stepped into Carl John’s place at the head of the family. He became witty and gay and when he arrived at Saxony, the Prince Frederick Augustus became his friend and invited him to stay at his court as long as he cared to, for, Frederick Augustus told him, he would always be welcome there.

News came to Saxony of Hanover, and it was then that he heard gossip about the lecherous Ernest Augustus, the rapacious Clara von Platen, the boorish George Lewis and the sadly neglected but very beautiful Sophia Dorothea.

Sophia Dorothea! The dainty little girl he had known was it ten years ago? He had been enchanted with her, and she with him. And now, poor girl, it seemed she was being sadly treated by that uncouth husband of hers. No doubt she was in need of a little comfort. The Count Königsmarck was very capable of supplying comfort to ladies who did not find it in their married lives.

Sophia Dorothea, naturally, would be different from all the others. He knew that before he saw her again.

And when he did he was certain. On that night when he was presented to her and she stood before him in all her dainty femininity, she was the beautiful lady in distress calling on her knight-errant to rescue her.

She could rely on him; he would not fail her.