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_.[190]
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Footnote 190:
By permission.
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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 collection. It is, moreover, difficult to follow the movements of the courts 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 Celle, 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.
Königsmarck 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 Königsmarck 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 imprisonment 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 quarrelling with the Brunswick princes to a point which looked 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 Königsmarck 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 well advanced. It was expected that Königsmarck 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 difficult for Königsmarck 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 from the Alliance, and were now threatening hostilities, 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 the Duke of Celle inherited Saxe-Lauenburg, as he feared his warlike neighbours, he had repaired the fortifications 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) Königsmarck 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 Electoral Prince set out for Flanders early in June than the Electoral Princess, much against her will, 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 Léonnisse. 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 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 gallantry of Prince Max, a lover’s quarrel because Königsmarck went to a supper party at the Countess Platen’s, a reconciliation and subsequent meeting.
Save for the stolen visit to Brockhausen, Königsmarck 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[191] in praising Königsmarck 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.
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Footnote 191:
The Duchess Sophia, henceforth known as the Electress, and Duke Ernest Augustus as the Elector.
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_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[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 I never dreamt of asking about it, and I was walking slowly, waiting for my ring.
“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 Kopstein 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 rumoured are kept for La Platen. However, I am as I would be, away from all company; and the Electress’s [plan] has fallen 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.”
_Königsmarck 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 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 will 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,[192] which are rather meagre; but never mind—the rest will follow. I cannot conceal from you a misfortune that 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 went, for fear she might guess the cause of my sadness. What bondage!”
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Footnote 192:
This refers to the second cypher—in numbers.
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_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[LUISBURG,] _Friday_, _June_ 9/19, _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 delightful, 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 well 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 hide my grief so little that Sitardie to-day asked me the cause of my sadness, and then he went on to say he was going to compose a lament on your absence! 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 _très gentil_. Balati[193] 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 smallest 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!_ 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.”
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Footnote 193:
The French envoy.
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“_L’envoi, the next morning._
“I have not slept a wink; my eyes are as big as fists, and I dare not show myself in public. La _pauvre_ Confidente is pale because I fret so; she sleeps in the small 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.”
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“HANOVER, _June_ 10/20.
“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’aperçus en songe Celle qui cause oies soupirs, Qui consentait à mes désirs; Mais tout cela n’est qu’un mensonge. Ah! ce mensonge m’a flatté Autant qu’a fait la verité.
La beauté qui le jour se couvre, Pendant la nuit ne cache rien: Les yeux fermés je vis un bien Qui disparaît quand on les ouvre. Dieu, pour soulager mon amour, Faites que je dorme toujours!
Rien ne fut plus doux que Silvie, Et, sans que je fisse d’efforts, J’eus dans l’image de l’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 will 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 chérie_, how I pass my time. Alas! how can I spend it away organizing 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 all your commands. If you think we can meet while 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.”
_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[LUISBURG,] _Sunday, June_ 10/20.
“I am starting in two hours’ time with the Electress for Brockhausen; we shall 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 ladies 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 mère_; 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 me why I will 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 solitude. 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 will 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.”
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“[HANOVER,] _June_ 11/21.
“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 will 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 _fête_ 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[194] I will bear witness. I swear that I walked with him while they were dancing, and did not go near the lively company; but, on the contrary, without talking to anybody, I walked on the ramparts 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 bad opinion of me, you had better leave me. But I tell you, without losing my temper, I love you passionately 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.”
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Footnote 194:
The key to this cypher is lost.
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_The Princess to Königsmarck._
““[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 will 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 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,[195] 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 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 subjects 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.”
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Footnote 195:
For the campaign in Flanders, June, 1692.
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“[LUISBURG,] _Wednesday, June_ 14/24.
“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 même entendre nommer votre nom sans un transport dont je ne suis pas la maîtresse._ 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 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 intolerable. Let us hope for a happy change; let us do everything to be together. I shall 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 absents ont 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.”
[Illustration: HERRENHAUSEN.]
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“[HANOVER,] _June_ 13/23.
“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 will 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 challenge. 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 will 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 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_ 15/25.
“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].[196]
“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 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 will 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 followed 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 Monplaisir 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 will not give you further ground for unjust suspicions.”
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Footnote 196:
But meantime the Princess had gone again to her parents at Brockhausen.
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_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[BROCKHAUSEN,] _Friday_, _June_ 16/26.
“After pining for three days and suffering tortures 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 will 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 Celle] 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 shall give you so many kisses, and with such fondness, that you will 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.”
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“[BROCKHAUSEN (?),] _June_ 16/26.
“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 _cocotte_. 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_ 17/27.
“... 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 connaître. Je sifflerai du loin ‘Les Folies d’Espagne’._ If I understand 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.”
“[HANOVER,] _June_ 20/30.
“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,] _June_ 23/_July_ 3.
“I shuddered on reading your letter.[197] To what danger I have exposed you! _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 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 shall 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 myself. They say the Elector will certainly be here on Monday. See how unfortunate we are. What ill-luck this is! I fret all the more because you are not coming with him. I am going away this day week. They say your father is going to Celle; if so, I hope greatly I may see you again. Think if it can be managed. _Ma petite brunette_, how I will kiss thee when I hold thee again! Meanwhile I dream of thee.
Dieu, pour soulager mon amour, Faites que je dorme toujours!”
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Footnote 197:
This letter of the Princess is missing; it must have referred to some accident after their meeting.
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_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[BROCKHAUSEN,] _June_ 23/_July_ 3.
“I am very anxious. I have not heard from you yet.[198] 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 Ukraine. 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 Königsmarck is going to take part in the campaign to the Ukraine; 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 distinction. 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 to neglect it, for upon the issue hangs all my future happiness.”
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Footnote 198:
The letters must have crossed.
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“[BROCKHAUSEN,] _June_ 25/_July_ 5.
“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 shall have to spend a whole month without you—you, who are the only joy of my life. _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.”