The Princess of Celle

Tragedy in the Leine Schloss

KÖNIGSMARCK WAS BACK in Hanover. His stay in Dresden had forced him to a decision. He was tired of the gay life; he wanted only to be with Sophia Dorothea. He was certain of it now. There was no happiness for him apart from her.

He was going to be bold and reckless and carry her right away from Hanover to where they could be happy together living the simple life.

He was not received with enthusiasm at court. The news of his gossip at Dresden was one reason; it had incensed the Crown Prince and his mistress and those who wanted to please them had to pretend to be disgusted too. He had accepted a commission in the army of Saxony when he had one in Hanover. Some explanation would eventually be expected of him.

When Clara saw him her desire for him made her forget her hatred. If he would come back to her, be her lover again, she would forgive him everything. As for Sophia Dorothea, the loss of Königsmarck would be her punishment. That was enough for any woman, Clara decided. How she would enjoy flaunting her enjoyment of the man in Sophia Dorothea’s face; she would visit her and discuss his perfections with her as he had discussed her with his friends in Dresden.

‘She waylaid him and cornered him on the day of his return. Brilliantly painted, seductively gowned, she barred his way in one of the ante-rooms of the palace.

‘So you are back.’ She stood close to him, her hand on his arm. ‘I am pleased to see you.’

Königsmarck looked over her head. ‘I am honoured.’ His voice was cold.

‘You should visit me at Monplaisir.’

‘I fear I have no time for such a visit.’

Angry lights shot up in Clara’s eyes.

‘You will be too busily engaged elsewhere?’

‘I hope to be,’ he answered.

‘And if I were to promise you …’

‘Nothing you could promise me would make me change my mind.’

Why was she standing here accepting insults? Clara asked herself. Why did she not abuse him, call him traitor, gossip – and the worst of scandalmongers who betrays the confidences of the bedchamber?

She hated him and yet her desire for him was a raging torment.

He bowed coldly and passed on.

This was the end of Königsmarck, Clara decided. She could no longer tolerate his presence in Hanover. He had made it clear that he would never be her lover again.

And if, said Clara to herself, he will not be my lover he shall be no one else’s.

She saw herself every night thinking of him wherever he was with other women – Sophia Dorothea in all probability. How could she endure that? And to think that he should prefer Sophia Dorothea, that pretty little creature without character, without experience! It was not to be borne.

In the heat of passion she sat down and wrote a letter. She knew Sophia Dorothea’s handwriting and she could easily do a draft which could be mistaken for it even by one who had received many letters from her. It was addressed to Königsmarck, telling him he must visit her that night at the Leine Schloss. It was imperative.

She then sent for one of her spies in Sophia Dorothea’s household and told her that the letter must be given to Königsmarck with the information that the Princess had asked her to deliver it.

It was getting late. Ernest Augustus would soon be retiring for the night. Clara said: ‘I must see you alone.’

Then she told him that she feared what could happen unless prompt action were taken.

‘You are too tolerant of rogues,’ she told him. ‘Königsmarck has shown that he is no friend to Hanover in the last months. Now I have proof to offer you. He is planning to elope with Sophia Dorothea.’

‘Impossible.’

‘Is it? He is visiting her tonight. He’ll spend the night with her making love and plans. They are going to leave Hanover and seek refuge in Wolfenbüttel.’

Wolfenbüttel! The mention of that name was enough to arouse Ernest Augustus’s anger.

‘What a scandal! What do you think they will say of us at Hanover? They’ll be rising against us soon. And all because you have refused to believe what is going on under your nose. I should have thought the Mölcke affair would have been a warning but you refused to believe ill of your beautiful daughter-in-law. She could do no wrong. No! Only receive her lover at night, only plot her elopement, only plot against you who have shown her nothing but kindness.’

‘Are you sure she is receiving Königsmarck tonight?’

‘Absolutely sure. There is only one thing to do – arrest him when he is leaving her apartment. Then you will see that what I have told you is true.’

‘Yes, arrest him.’

‘Leave this to me,’ said Clara. ‘We do not want a scandal. I will instruct the guards who are to arrest him. We will do it as quietly as possible. We do not want the whole of Europe to know that the Crown Princess receives a lover in her bedchamber. There’ll be doubt of the parentage of her children if it becomes common knowledge. Will you trust me with this arrest?’

Ernest Augustus nodded. ‘I know why you want to have charge of this, Clara. He’s a very handsome man. You want him treated gently.’

‘I want to make sure that I do the best for you.’

In the small room in the Leine Schloss Clara threw off her cloak and confronted the four halberdiers whom she had summoned there.

The light of candles threw their flickering glow on a flagon of wine set on the table.

Clara produced the document to which Ernest Augustus had put his signature.

‘You will wait in the corridor close to the apartments of the Princess of Hanover,’ said Clara, ‘until you see a man emerge. He will have to pass along the corridor and you will wait for him. The Elector’s orders are that he should be taken … dead or alive.’

‘Dead or alive!’ repeated the leader of the men.

‘Fortify yourselves,’ said Clara, pointing to the flagon. ‘He may try to defend himself. He’ll be a desperate man.’

‘We will carry out the Elector’s orders, Countess,’ was the answer. ‘We’ll get him … dead or alive.’

Clara left them and went to wait in a small room close by. Pictures came unbidden to her mind; she tried to chase them away and could not. Sophia Dorothea and Königsmarck together now… .

Disguised in an old jacket and a rough brown cloak Königsmarck made his way into the Leine Schloss. In his pocket he carried the note which he believed had come from Sophia Dorothea. Something extraordinary must have happened for her to take this risk; but he could not be concerned with that. He was going to be with her again; and now that he was here it seemed to him that nothing on earth mattered but that. He loved Sophia Dorothea, He was a different man from the careless adventurer of the past. He had been weak and foolish, even after loving her, but he was going to break away from the old meaningless life; he could not do it at one stroke. But now he knew he would in time because nothing else in the world mattered but their happiness. Tonight he would persuade her to leave everything and run away with him.

He entered the castle and made his way to the wing in which he knew the Princess had her apartments. He quickly passed through the rittersaal – the knights’ hall – to a smaller hall close by; now he could see the door which led to the Princesses’s apartments.

Swiftly he went to it and lightly scratched. It was opened by Eléonore von Knesebeck, who looked startled.

‘My lord Count …’

‘Take me to the Princess.’

‘Yes, yes. Come in quickly… . Oh this is dangerous … at such a time.’

‘I came in answer to her summons.’

Eléonore looked even more surprised. Then she said: ‘Follow me.’

Sophia Dorothea was in her bed and she gave a cry of joy when she saw her lover and they were in each other’s arms.

Eléonore von Knesebeck stood at the door, watching.

‘Keep guard,’ said Sophia Dorothea.

Eléonore nodded, asking herself why she had not been told that Königsmarck had been summoned. Usually she shared the confidences.

Quietly she shut the door and went to her own apartment. She heard the key turn in the lock as she did so.

Sophia Dorothea was saying: ‘This is dangerous.’

‘You don’t imagine I wouldn’t come if you sent for me?’

‘Sent for you! But I would not allow you to do anything so dangerous.’

He took the letter from his pocket and Sophia Dorothea frowned over it.

‘I did not write it.’

‘Then who …’

Danger, their minds warned them. Who had lured Königsmarck to the Leine Schloss tonight and for what purpose? But they were together and they did not want to entertain any fears of what this might mean. There had been long dreary months without each other. They were both convinced that their only chance of happiness was together.

‘I am here … with you … what matters aught else?’ demanded Königsmarck.

‘Oh, how I have longed for you!’

They made ecstatic love; and afterwards they made plans.

Life could not go on as it had been. They were both certain. Everything that had happened before was past and done with. The future was theirs. It did not matter where they were as long as they were together.

They would fly to Wolfenbüttel where they could be sure of shelter. She would bring the children with her for she could not bear to be parted from them. They were determined on flight.

‘When?’ cried Sophia Dorothea. ‘It cannot be too soon.’

‘It must be soon,’ said Königsmarck. ‘We dare not delay. There are too many spies about. I cannot hide my love for you. It must be tomorrow.’

‘But how?’

‘I shall let it be known that I am returning to Dresden. My reception here has been rather cold and it will seem natural. My coach will be waiting outside my house and the coachmen will be given instruction that they are to go to Dresden. You and Knesebeck will leave the palace quietly dressed so as to attract no attention. You will slip into the coach where I shall be waiting. When we are outside the town I will give the instructions to make for Wolfenbüttel instead of Dresden. And then … we shall be well on the way before it is noticed.’

‘And the children?’

‘We must send for them later. To take them with us would certainly result in failure.’

‘I could not bear to lose them.’

‘You shall not. I promise you, you shall not. You know I could not fail you.’ She was sure he could not fail her. She lay shuddering in his arms and yet she was gloriously happy. To escape from the misery of Hanover. To be happy with her lover. That was what she wanted; that was what she needed if she were not to die of melancholy.

There was a gentle scratching at the door.

‘I’ll go and see who is there. Hide yourself.’

Sophia Dorothea went to the door. It was only Eléonore von Knesebeck, alarmed by the length of the visit, for she guessed the lovers had not noticed the passing of time.

‘If he remains much longer it will be dawn,’ she whispered.

Königsmarck came forward. ‘Our Confidante is right,’ he said. ‘I must leave now.’

There was a last embrace.

‘Tomorrow,’ whispered Königsmarck.

‘Tomorrow,’ echoed Sophia Dorothea.

Then the door shut on him leaving a bewildered Eléonore von Knesebeck with an exultant Sophia Dorothea.

Königsmarck crossed the rittersaal, walked to the door which he had left unlocked that he might easily slip away and turned the handle. It was locked.

He was alert. Someone had locked the door. Why? Because they knew he would want to leave by it.

He turned, and at that moment he saw the gleam of halberds, while simultaneously he was seized from behind.

There were four of them – four figures, armed, determined on his destruction.

He drew his sword and struck out in the dimness; then he felt the violent blow on his head; he swayed and as he saw the cold steel at his heart he cried out: ‘The Princess is innocent… . Do not harm her!’ Then bleeding profusely he fell half swooning to the floor.

‘He’s dead,’ whispered one of the halberdiers.

‘Do you see who?’ asked another.

‘Königsmarck! Oh, my God, what have we done!’

Clara who had been waiting close by, came hurrying out. She carried a candelabra in her hand and holding it high above her head stared down at the figure on the floor.

‘Oh, God!’ she whispered.

Königsmarck, opening his eyes, saw her. ‘You! So it is you!’ he murmured. ‘You evil woman. Murderess. Your revenge this… . The Princess is innocent… .’

That he should seek to defend her rival at such a moment maddened Clara.

She put her foot on his mouth and ground in her heel.

But even as she stared down at him, her feelings suffered a reversal. She knew that he was the only man she really wanted.

She cried out: ‘You clumsy fools. You’ve killed him. You were told to arrest him and you’ve killed him!’

She knelt down and put her arms about him.

‘Königsmarck,’ she whispered, ‘you’re not going to die.’

‘Evil woman … would to God I had never …’

So he was conscious still. He was cursing her. Then his face softened as he said: ‘Save her… . She … innocent …’

His head fell backwards and his glassy stare was fixed on Clara’s face.

‘He’s dead,’ she whispered. ‘Königsmarck is dead.’

She looked down at her blood-spattered gown; then she hurried to the Elector’s apartments. He started up in bed at the sight of her – dishevelled and bloody.

‘They have killed Königsmarck,’ she said.

‘Killed him! No!’

She nodded. ‘We must act quickly. His body is lying there near the Princess’s apartment. He resisted arrest and so was killed.’

Ernest Augustus looked at her intently; but he was too old and tired to attempt to probe her devious intentions.

Königsmarck murdered! This would create scandal throughout Europe and more than scandal. Königsmarck was of too important a family for his murder to be hushed up.

Clara followed his line of thought. ‘There is only one thing to be done,’ she said. ‘Leave this to me. His body must be buried before dawn and all signs of the murder removed.’

Clara left the Elector and went back to the halberdiers, two of whom were badly wounded and in need of attention. They must invent some story of a street fight in which they had been hurt, she told them. The other two must hastily put the body into a hole in the grounds and cover it with quick lime. All the bloodstains must be washed away; while they were fresh it would be easy to do so. They would need help and they must get it, but inform all those who were called to their assistance that if they spoke a word of this night’s work they would bitterly regret it.

They knew how terrible the anger of Clara von Platen could be. They had an example of it in the dead body of Königsmarck. They worked with speed; and by the morning there was no sign in the Leine Schloss of what had happened during the night.

With the help of Eléonore von Knesebeck Sophia Dorothea was packing her jewels.

‘This time tomorrow,’ she said, ‘we shall be far away.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Eléonore, her teeth chattering.

‘I could endure it no more.’

‘No. You have endured too much. But there will be such a scandal.’

‘I no longer care.’

The jewels were packed into a case which Fraulein Knesebeck would carry.

‘Let us lie down,’ said Sophia Dorothea. ‘I feel exhausted and yet wide awake. You lie down with me … and we’ll talk as we used to when we were little.’

They talked of the next day. They would be in readiness, waiting until the message from Königsmarck arrived; and then they would put on two of Eléonore’s oldest cloaks and slip out of the palace. The coach would be waiting for them and in it Königsmarck. And as soon as they were safely inside … away to Wolfenbüttel.

‘There are strange noises in the palace tonight,’ said Eléonore von Knesebeck.

‘You are never awake at this hour, that’s why you notice them.’

‘What should they be doing in corridors by night?’

‘You are dreaming, Knesebeck. You’re half asleep.’

‘Am I?’

‘Yes. Go to sleep. I shan’t. I shan’t sleep until I’m in Wolfenbüttel.’

How long the morning seemed. At every sound they started up. But no messenger came, and the morning passed and they were still waiting.

It was afternoon.

‘Something has gone wrong,’ said Sophia Dorothea. ‘He said he would send for us in the morning. It would have been easier to slip out then.’

‘He will send in the afternoon,’ consoled Fraulein von Knesebeck.

‘The children will be here for their daily visit soon,’ said Sophia Dorothea.

‘If the message comes while they are here we shall wait till they have left.’

‘I shall be tempted to take them with me.’

Eléonore von Knesebeck shivered.

But the children did not come and there was no message; and by the time the afternoon was over they knew that something was wrong.

Where is Königsmarck? It was the question which was being asked all over Hanover. His servants had not seen him. They had not been alarmed when he had not returned home that night because he often indulged in night adventures. But now he had been missing for two nights and not one of his household knew where he was.

Hildebrand, Königsmarck’s faithful secretary, was very anxious because he was aware that his master had been making plans to leave Hanover and that the Princess Sophia Dorothea was involved in them.

He would send to Dresden, he said, for it might be that some news of him could be found there. Königsmarck’s sister Aurora was now beginning to be very disturbed; she herself would visit Dresden for, she said, she was determined to find her brother.

In her apartments Sophia Dorothea was both heartbroken and terrified.

‘I am afraid,’ she said to Eléonore, ‘that the greatest tragedy of my life is about to happen.’

Even at that moment Ernest Augustus had sent his guards to search Königsmarck’s apartments in the hope, he said, that some clue might be found which would explain his disappearance.

Ernest Augustus was staring at the papers which lay before him on the table. Watching him intently were the Platens and the Duchess Sophia.

‘So they were going to Wolfenbüttel,’ said the Elector. ‘They were going to our enemies.’

‘Traitors – both of them!’ cried Clara.

‘The Duchess Sophia said nothing; she sat back in her chair, her hands folded on her lap, her lips tight. The daughter of that woman who had supplanted her all those years ago was in utter disgrace from which she could never extricate herself. Sophia at least would do nothing to help her. She would show George William what a fool he had been to refuse the daughter of Kings and take a commoner to wife. This slut, this French-woman’s brat, had disgraced her parents and she should never again set foot in the court of Hanover if the Duchess Sophia could help it.

‘Ernest Augustus was angry. To elope to Wolfenbüttel – that stronghold of traitors! It was too much. If she had merely taken a lover he would have forgiven her. God knew she had had enough provocation, and he was not the man to condemn others for weaknesses which he himself possessed. But in planning to go to Wolfenbüttel, she had forfeited all claim to his, sympathy and help. And there it all was in the papers found in Königsmarck’s apartments. No, he would have no mercy for Sophia Dorothea.

‘Her parents should be informed of her guilt,’ said the Duchess Sophia.

‘Without delay, I think, Your Highness,’ agreed Clara.

The two women nodded to each other. There was no rancour between them; they were agreed on this. They both urgently desired the ruin of Sophia Dorothea.

‘She walked about her apartments in a daze. She took no heed of time. She did not know now how many days had passed. There was only one thing she knew: her heart was broken, for some terrible tragedy had overtaken her lover; it was the only reason why he would desert her.

She had lost him; some intuition told her she would never look on his face again; and she was alone … staring disaster in the face.

‘What shall I do? What shall I do?’ she demanded of a terrified Fraulein von Knesebeck.

But the Confidante had no answer for her.

There was Celle. There was her mother.

‘My mother is the only one left to me, Knesebeck. She would never desert me. She will come for me. She will take me home now.’

The Duchess Eléonore was in tears. ‘She must come home. I will look after her. This is lies … all of it is lies. She has been indiscreet … but never wicked. She is incapable of wickedness.’

George William looked in astonishment at his wife.

‘Have you read these letters? Her guilt is plain. She has been Königsmarck’s mistress. She was going to elope with him … to Wolfenbüttel.’

‘I don’t believe it.’

‘You must believe your own eyes. Read these letters … in her handwriting. They will make you blush with shame. Your daughter so to conduct herself!’

‘She was driven to it. Oh, God, I foresaw this… . On that morning … that birthday morning… . Life was so wonderful before that. And you gave her away as though she were nothing more than a piece of land. Your own daughter! My daughter! Now she must come back to me. I will nurse her back to health. I will make her happy again.’

‘She shall not come here.’

They faced each other. He had been primed by Bernstorff, for Clara and the Duchess Sophia had determined that the Princess was not going back to her mother. Oh no! She had sinned and they were going to see that she was punished. Not back to Celle to be petted and pampered by the Frenchwoman – that clot of dirt, who doubtless thought it was amusing that Princes should be deceived.

George William must be a man in his own house.

‘I have made up my mind,’ he said.

‘If you close your door to her my heart is closed to you forever,’ she told him.

But he would not give way. He was older now, more selfish. Her approval was not so necessary to him as that of his brother the Elector.

Her beautiful face was set in a stony expression as she said: ‘I no longer care for anyone but my daughter and my grandchildren. And all the years of happiness I had with you are without meaning, for I was mistaken when I gave my love to a man who could so heartlessly treat his own daughter.’

She turned and left him and he almost ran to her crying out that he wanted it to be as it was in the beginning. They would have their daughter back; they would be together as they were in the days of Sophia Dorothea’s childhood when the whole world meant nothing to them and their happiness was in each other.

But even as he moved he could hear the mocking laughter of Hanover – his brother’s supercilious chuckle, the sneer of the Platen woman, the scorn of the Duchess Sophia; and his pride was stronger than his love.

Eléonore went alone to her apartments to pray for her daughter and to fight for her as well as she could … alone.

‘I have no friends,’ said Sophia Dorothea. ‘There is no one to help me.’

But she had a friend in her mother. Eléonore made no excuses for her father. He was against her and all who were against Sophia Dorothea were against the Duchess of Celle. ‘Rest assured, my darling,’ wrote Duchess Eléonore, ‘your enemies are mine and though all the world were against you I should be at your side. Do not despair. I shall find some way of bringing you comfort.’

Sophia Dorothea wept when she read that letter. She believed now that her lover was dead, for only death, she was sure, would have kept him from her.

Her heart, she said, was broken; and doom was close at hand.

Count Platen came to her apartments.

He scarcely recognized the white-faced wild-eyed girl who received him. It was two weeks since the night of Königsmarck’s marck’s murder and Sophia Dorothea had eaten scarcely anything and had slept little since.

‘Your guilt is known,’ said Platen. ‘Many of your criminal letters are in the hands of the Elector and we know that Count Königsmarck was your lover and that you were planning to elope with him. It is decided that you are no longer welcome at Hanover.’

‘Nothing would please me more than to leave it. And how dare you keep me here a prisoner!’

‘Your father agrees with all that is being done. The Elector is in constant communication with him. It has to be decided whether you are pregnant by Königsmarck which, you will admit, is a possibility.’

‘How dare you address me in such a coarse manner! You speak to me as though I am a woman like your wife.’

‘Madame, such insults will not help you. Everything is known.’

‘And where is Count Königsmarck?’

‘He was killed resisting arrest in the early morning when he was discovered leaving your bedchamber.’

She had known it; but the blatant truth was hard to accept. She put her hands to her face that he might not see her agony.

But how could she hide it? Everything was lost. She could see nothing about her but desolation and misery.

When Platen left, Eléonore von Knesebeck helped her mistress to her bed; and there she lay for several days not caring what became of her.

Shortly afterwards arrangements were made for her to leave Hanover, and she was conducted to the castle of Ahlden – a state prisoner.