CHAPTER VIII.
ENTER KÖNIGSMARCK. (1688-1689.)
... he seem’d the goodliest man That ever among ladies ate in hall. TENNYSON.
Count Philip Christopher Königsmarck had led an adventurous life since the day when, a handsome youth, he parted from the Princess at Celle, ten years before. He had grown to man’s estate, travelled far and wide, and distinguished himself for audacity in many adventures and gallantry in many courts. He came to Hanover with the reputation of being a brilliant, dashing young nobleman, a reputation which his wealth and personal beauty did much to heighten.
Count Philip Christopher Königsmarck, who was born in 1665,[27] was the second son of a Swedish nobleman, the famous General Count Königsmarck, who was killed at the siege of Bonne in 1673, leaving behind him two sons and two daughters. Of the elder son more anon. One of the daughters, Amalie Wilhelmina, had married Count Carl Gustav Lewenhaupt; the other, Marie Aurora, was still unwed, and was distinguished throughout Europe for her grace and beauty.
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Footnote 27:
The vexed question of the date of Königsmarck’s birth is settled by Count Adam Lewenhaupt in an article in _Historisk Tidskrift_, Stockholme, 1898, in which he quotes from documents deposited in the Record Office, Stockholme.
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The Königsmarck brothers and sisters were peculiar products of the seventeenth century; they were wealthy, endowed with rare talents, great beauty, and noble birth, and, had they been so minded, could have lived and died in their native land honoured and respected by all. But the spirit of adventure was in their blood. The brothers were military adventurers, and the sisters court favourites, to use no harsher word, and they each and all of them were conspicuous figures at the most brilliant courts of Europe. Most of the beautiful adventuresses of this period were the daughters of poor noblemen. But the Countesses Königsmarck could not plead poverty for embarking on their glittering and eventful careers; with them, as with their brothers, the incentives must have been the spirit of restlessness pure and simple, the passion for display, and the love of notoriety, which through all ages have been powerful attractions to men and women of their temperament.
The elder brother, Count Carl John Königsmarck, began his travels when a boy. He accompanied his uncle, the celebrated Count Otho William, sometime Field-Marshal of France, and afterwards Governor of Swedish Pomerania, on a tour through the greater part of Europe. He visited England in 1674. Soon after we find him figuring at Versailles. Later he joined an expedition of the Knights of Malta against the Turks, when he nearly cut short his promising career by tumbling into the sea; but he was dragged out half drowned, for the Königsmarck family, like cats, appeared to have nine lives. Later we find him at Rome, Venice, and Genoa, and then proceeding through Portugal to Spain. At the court of Madrid he was an honoured guest, and figured with great _éclat_ at the festivities consequent on the marriage of the King. During these festivities he took part in a bull-fight, wherein he distinguished himself by his quickness and courage, and again met with an accident which nearly cost him his life. He was badly gored by a bull, but, bleeding and wounded, continued to fight until he was carried fainting out of the arena. The Spanish ladies were delighted with his pluck, and unanimously declared him to be one of the most gallant cavaliers that had ever visited Madrid. After these experiences he returned to Sweden for a time.
He found there Philip Christopher, his younger brother, who had returned to the family nest from the court of Celle, where his presence was no longer welcome. It was resolved to send him to England to complete his education, and Carl John, who had been in England before, undertook the charge of his young brother. The two brothers sailed from Gothenburg, in 1681, and, after a rough voyage, landed at Hull. Count Carl John presented himself at the court of Charles II., bearing with him a letter of introduction from the King of Sweden. The fame of his exploits had travelled before him, and the merry monarch cordially welcomed so distinguished a gallant, and took a great liking to him. Carl John at once plunged into the gaieties of the dissipated English court. His younger brother, Philip Christopher, was lodged in London, and sent to attend Foubert’s Academy in the Haymarket, a celebrated school of arms in that day. A man named Hanson was engaged to act as his tutor and watch over his morals in the gay metropolis, and, in the intervals of his military training at Foubert’s, to prepare him for entering the University of Oxford.
The rank and fortune of these distinguished youths and the favour of the court naturally gave them access to the great houses of England, and we find them on terms of intimacy with the highest of the nobility. This was especially true of the elder brother, who became a general favourite, and won the favour of many of the court beauties. But the Swedish noble sought more substantial advantages. Through the Dowager-Countess of Northumberland he became acquainted with her young daughter, the Countess of Ogle, who was one of the great heiresses of the day. This lady was by birth Lady Elizabeth Percy, orphan daughter and heiress of the eleventh Earl of Northumberland. She was married to Henry Cavendish, Earl of Ogle, son of the Duke of Newcastle, when only eleven years old, according to the evil practice of giving heiresses in wedlock when mere children; but, because she was so young, she never lived with her husband. He died after his marriage year, leaving his countess the bulk of his fortune, and a greater prize than ever. The unfortunate child appeared in widow’s weeds at the court of Charles II., and was known as _La triste héritière_. She had few pretensions to beauty, and suffered from the fact that her hair was bright red, which in those days was not admired, so she was given the additional nickname of “the Countess Carrots”.
Count Carl John Königsmarck resolved to win this prize, and paid his court to her assiduously. Despite her precocious training, Lady Ogle was too young to know her own mind; but she seems to have been attracted to her Swedish suitor favourably, and would probably have yielded to his pleading had not her family discouraged his suit. Count Carl John came with the strongest credentials, and the King’s favour to boot, but the Dowager-Countess of Northumberland, who shared the prevalent prejudice against foreigners, sternly refused to hear a word in his favour, and shut the door in his face.
Incensed at his unceremonious rejection, the Count turned his back on England for a time. The spirit of military adventure being strong within him, he attached himself to an expedition against the Moors, and fought at Tangiers with great bravery. The war was of short duration, and a peace having been patched up with the Moors, the restless Count next joined a cruise against the Algerines. While he was thus engaged, news came which determined him to return to England without delay. Though rejected by Lady Ogle’s guardians, he had by no means given up the idea of winning her, and hoped by distinguishing himself in the wars to strengthen his suit; she was still so young that they could afford to wait a while, and doubtless he felt that his doughty deeds would make her heart grow fonder. Whether they did so or not mattered little, for her heart was the last thing that Lady Ogle’s guardians took into consideration; they felt the care of the child heiress a great responsibility, and resolved to settle her safely as soon as possible. Therefore, in Count Carl John’s absence, they married her privately, much against her will, to a country gentleman, Mr. Thomas Thynne, of Longleat, in Wiltshire, commonly called “Tom of Ten Thousand” from his wealth,—ten thousand a year in those days being considered an immense fortune. The match was a suitable one as regards money and position, but in other respects it was disastrous. Thynne was a young man of debauched habits, whom Dryden lampooned as Issachar in his _Absalom and Ahithophel_. This marriage, like the previous one, was never consummated. The pair separated immediately the ceremony was concluded, and the young bride fled to Holland to escape from her second husband. She was then only fourteen years old!
Count Carl John took upon himself the _rôle_ of champion of the distressed damsel; he considered that he had been tricked and the lady betrayed, and by some crooked reasoning he persuaded himself that if he could only get Thynne out of the way he would secure the heiress and the fortune for himself. Full of this idea he arrived in London early in 1682, accompanied by a Captain Vratz, a dare-devil fellow who had followed him in all his campaigns, and was absolutely devoted to his interests. This time the Count did not present himself at court, but took private lodgings and remained hidden, on account, he afterwards said, of some skin disease he had picked up in Morocco which made him unfit to appear in public. He saw no one but his younger brother, Philip Christopher, who was still pursuing his studies at Foubert’s Academy, and Vratz. It is impossible to say what dark schemes were hatched in Carl John’s lodgings, but we know for certain that Vratz, who was a noted duellist, tried to fasten a quarrel upon Thynne, but that gentleman declined his challenge and refused to meet him. Vratz was determined to encompass his destruction, and, since he could not kill him in what was known as an “honourable way,” he hired two swashbucklers, Lieutenant Stern, a needy rogue, and Borosky, a Pole, who had come from Sweden with horses for Count Carl John, to act as his seconds or confederates, and again endeavoured to provoke his adversary. But Thynne obstinately refused to come out, and, failing in his endeavour to murder him legally, Vratz determined to despatch him in some other way. It chanced in this wise. One afternoon, just when the dusk was falling, Thynne was driving in Pall Mall with his boon companion, the Duke of Monmouth. He put the Duke down at his lodging, and drove on, but his coach had not proceeded more than a few yards when it was stopped by three mounted men, one of whom, Vratz, seized the horses, another, Stern, knocked down the postillion, and the third, Borosky, thrust a blunderbuss in at the coach window and discharged it at Thynne. The three desperadoes then made off, leaving their victim so dangerously wounded that he died in a few hours. There was a great hue and cry. The position and wealth of the murdered man, and the fact that such a deed had been committed openly in a frequented thoroughfare like Pall Mall, was too much even for that time. The law was invoked at once, and the three assassins were captured and thrown into jail to await their trial. Count Carl John was arrested as an accessory before the fact. He denied that he had any knowledge of the murder, but arms were found at his lodgings; it was proved that he had made inquiries as to Thynne’s whereabouts, and it was even hinted that the young lady, anxious to be rid of her obnoxious husband, secretly encouraged him. There does not seem to be any proof of this slander. Lady Ogle (or Elizabeth Thynne) was a girl, and absent abroad; that she may have wished to be rid of her husband is likely, and, under the circumstances, natural, but it is impossible to believe that she connived at his murder.
The trial took place in February, 1682, and was one of the most celebrated trials of the reign, equalling in interest, if not importance, the notorious Popish plots. The whole town was in a ferment, and for days nothing else was talked about. The murdered man had many friends of influence and position, who were determined to bring his assassins to the gallows, and popular opinion was with them. On the other hand, the King’s influence was known to be in favour of Count Carl John; he had come to him with an introduction from the King of Sweden, and he was unwilling that so distinguished an ornament of courts and so brave a soldier should end his days by means of the common hangman. Among the witnesses for the defence was Philip Christopher’s tutor, from whose evidence may be gleaned many particulars of the younger brother’s sojourn in England: for instance, that he had been sick of the ague, that he had been on visits to certain of the nobility, that he was about to leave Foubert’s Academy and go to Oxford, and lastly, that he, a distinguished foreigner, had been brought to England to be instructed in the Protestant religion and a proper knowledge of our free and enlightened institutions,—this point was supposed to carry great weight with the jury. Young Philip Christopher also gave evidence in his brother’s defence. The judge could not understand why Borosky had come over from Sweden. Philip Christopher said that his brother had sent for him because he was a great judge of horses, and he wished to buy some, not only for himself, but for him. “My lord,” said he, “I had a bill of exchange.” “For how much money, my lord?” inquired the Lord Chief Justice Pemberton. “For a thousand pistoles to buy horses, and he has bought one horse and wants to buy more.” This testimony, preposterous though it may seem, carried weight with the Lord Chief Justice, who evidently had a hint from the King. In his summing-up he greatly favoured Count Carl John Königsmarck, and the result was a verdict of “Guilty” against the three desperadoes, but “Not Guilty” against Carl John. The Count thus escaped; and, when he heard the verdict, there was a scene in court, for the acquitted man had the audacity to exclaim, “God bless the King and his honourable Bench!” whereat followed great uproar.
The three accomplices were hanged in chains. Count Carl John, though he saved his neck, ruined his reputation in England. The tide of feeling was strongly against him. The King plainly told him that he could do no more, and the coldness of the court, the hostility of the nobility, and the threats of the populace combined to make him quit England for ever. He repaired to the court of Versailles, where his recent experiences rather added to his reputation than otherwise. While there he had the audacity to renew his suit to Lady Ogle (or Elizabeth Thynne), now widowed for the second time, but she would have nothing more to do with him. She probably felt, and rightly, that to marry such a man would be to implicate herself in his crime. She went into mourning for her husband—or, rather, “did not appear public,” as the phrase went—for some six or seven weeks; she then returned to England, and married Charles Seymour, third Duke of Somerset, and added her colossal fortune to his. The marriage was on the whole a happy one, and she and the Duke were important and powerful personages at the court of Queen Anne.
Count Carl John returned to his estates in Sweden, but he could not brook the quiet of country life, and soon plunged again into the dangerous delights of war. War in those days was a game at which emperors, kings, and military adventurers played for a pastime, the soldiers being the pawns in the game. Carl John was wounded at the siege of Cambray; he then followed his regiment to Spain, and distinguished himself at the siege of Verona. The last stage of his eventful career was when, in 1686, he went with his uncle, Otho William, to the Morea; he took part in divers sieges and battles, and so exerted himself that he brought on an attack of pleurisy, of which he died.[28]
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Footnote 28:
We have dwelt thus on the career of Count Carl John Königsmarck because Horace Walpole and other chroniclers have fallen into the error of confounding him with his younger brother, Philip Christopher; and Horace Walpole even goes so far as to describe Philip Christopher, in his _Reminiscences of the Court of George II._, as the murderer of Thynne, which he certainly was not.
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Though Count Philip Christopher Königsmarck (now, by the death of his brother, Count Königsmarck) had nothing to do with the murder of Thynne, yet this untoward event influenced his fortunes not a little. The name of Königsmarck had become so odious in England after this affair that, despite the young Count’s admitted innocence, the court could not be brought to look upon him with favour, and so he abandoned the idea of going to Oxford and left England for France. He was at Versailles some time; he then travelled through France and other countries. This was a period of peace in the history of Europe; the great war which was concluded by the Treaty of Ryswick was not begun until some years later (1689), and so there was no opening for Königsmarck’s military talents. It is not easy to follow his career during this period, but on leaving France he seems to have gone to the court of Dresden, and proceeded with his military studies, and while there to have formed a friendship with Prince Frederick Augustus of Saxony (Augustus the Strong), and to have accompanied him on his travels in Spain, Portugal and Italy. We know that he was in Venice, and probably other parts of Italy, about this time, and we find him figuring in his own letters as carrying on a _liaison_ with a beautiful Italian lady connected with literature.
From 1682 (the date of the famous trial) to 1688 Königsmarck’s career is involved in uncertainty. One thing, however, is certain, that he appeared in Hanover on March 12, 1688. This we learn from the records of the Hanoverian Marshal von Malortie.[29] Herein it is stated that Königsmarck was present at an entertainment given by the Prince and Princess of Hanover on the occasion of some public festival. Before this date there is no mention of his name in any contemporary records of Hanover, and after this it occurs frequently; we are therefore justified in supposing that Königsmarck did not appear at Hanover before 1688. The point is important, more important than appears at first sight, because it has been stated that Königsmarck was in Hanover at an earlier date than 1688, and formed an intimacy with Sophie Dorothea before the birth of her daughter, thereby casting doubts on the legitimacy of her daughter, afterwards Queen of Prussia, and so upon the Imperial House of Germany. But there is no proof whatever (everything points the other way) that Königsmarck was in Hanover before 1688, one year _after_ the birth of the Princess.
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Footnote 29:
Published in Hanover, 1847, under the title of _Der Hannoversche Hof_.
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We may take it, there being no evidence to the contrary that Königsmarck’s appearance at the Prince’s festival was synonymous with his arrival at the court of Hanover, and on this occasion he first met the Princess, Sophie Dorothea, again, after ten years. Many changes had taken place. When they had parted she was little more than a child, and it cannot be supposed that their youthful intimacy had left any deep impression on her mind.[30] With Königsmarck it seems to have been different. If we may believe his asseverations later, he loved the Princess as a child, and never ceased to love her all his life long, even when his cause seemed most hopeless. On this occasion—their first meeting after many years—there was no hint of his feelings; he paid his homage to the Princess of Hanover with the formal respect due to her rank, though he probably recalled to her the days they had spent together at Celle. She greeted him with pleasure as an old friend and an acquisition to the court circle, and in this latter view she was supported by Ernest Augustus, who was always glad to welcome distinguished strangers to Hanover, especially when they had money.
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Footnote 30:
The fact that Sophie Dorothea and Königsmarck were children together is proved by a reference to the Protocol of the judicial inquiry with regard to Fräulein von Knesebeck, tried before the Vice-Chancellor Hugo and Count Platen. In it appear these questions:—
“How long is it that the Count and the Princess have loved each other?” The answer was: “They have loved each other from childhood. The Countess Rens (? Reuss) has related to me that when they were yet children they loved.” “How old were they then?” “Nine or ten years.” “And they always loved each other?” “Yes, that was always so, and thus he came to this court to serve.”
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Witty and accomplished, and withal generous and given to hospitality, Königsmarck soon became one of the most popular gallants about the court. He did not omit, like all the young nobles, to pay his respects to the powerful Countess Platen at Monplaisir, and she, on her part, was much impressed with his handsome person and dashing manners. The fact that Countess Platen was attracted to Königsmarck would not render him more agreeable to the eyes of Sophie Dorothea, and it may be doubted whether in that year (1688) the Princess saw much of him, though he was at Hanover for some time.
Ill-treated and rebuffed on all sides, Sophie Dorothea’s troubles had begun to tell upon her health; the Prince neglected her more and more for Schulenburg, often not coming near her for weeks at a time. Sophie Dorothea felt this slight keenly, and one day visited her husband in his apartments and demanded an explanation of his coldness and neglect. Was it due to any fault on her part? she asked pitifully, because if so she would endeavour to regulate her conduct to his wishes. But George Louis would not give her any explanation, and ordered her out of the room. Sophie Dorothea’s temper was never much under control, and she lost it altogether at this rude rebuff. High words ensued between the unhappy pair; they had a more violent quarrel than ever before, and it was said that George Louis used personal violence to expel her from his presence. When at last the Princess returned to her apartments her agitation was so great that it brought on a nervous prostration, and some say a miscarriage. For some time she was confined to her bed, and so ill that the Duchess Sophia, who generally held aloof and ignored her, interposed on behalf of the neglected wife. The Duchess Sophia did not view the Schulenburg affair with any favour, and reprimanded her son so severely that George Louis was forced for a time to pay his wife some attention—that is to say, he would come and sit by her bedside for a few minutes, and sullenly inquire after her health.
When Sophie Dorothea rallied a little, the Duchess Sophia took her off to Herrenhausen with her children, and paid her every care and attention: this at least must be noted to her credit. It was probably during this period that the Duchess gave her daughter-in-law those long lectures on English history which Poellnitz describes with such unconscious humour.[31] They lasted hours at a stretch, and poor Sophie Dorothea had to listen to the end, though often tired and bored, for she had not the same interest in English affairs as her mother-in-law. Sometimes she seems to have dropped a hint to this effect, for we find the Duchess Sophia rebuking her want of interest, and telling her it was necessary that she should know the history of a country over which she might one day be called to reign as Queen Consort, and, if so, she trusted she would do her duty. This provoked Sophie Dorothea’s retort that if ever she were Queen of England she hoped she would have more sense than to run away and leave the crown as King James had done; for the flight of King James and the accession of William and Mary had just then astonished Europe, and were events especially agitating the mind of King James’s first cousin, Sophia, whose sympathies at this period were secretly with the exiled monarch and his family, notwithstanding the ties of self-interest.[32]
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Footnote 31:
_Histoire Secrette de la Duchesse d’ Hanover, Épouse de Georges Premier_, etc., said to be written by the Baron von Poellnitz. Published in French, London, 1732. This work is not trustworthy.
Footnote 32:
In King William’s chest was found a large bundle marked “The Electress Sophia’s correspondence with St. Germains”.
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After a time some sort of wretched truce was patched up between the ill-mated couple, probably through the mediation of the Duchess Sophia, and Sophie Dorothea returned to her apartments in the Old Palace and to outward union with her husband.
Königsmarck had then left Hanover for a period. The death of his uncle, Count Otho William, in the latter part of 1688, called him to Italy, and in the February of the following year we find him attending the splendid obsequies of that distinguished relative at Venice, for Count Otho William was not buried until many months after he died. By his brother’s death Königsmarck had become a rich man; by his uncle’s death he became one of the wealthiest noblemen in Europe, and the splendour of his equipages, the lavishness of his entertainments, and his reputation for gallantry made him an acquisition to any court. He was one of Fortune’s favourites: born in the purple, entering upon a large inheritance while yet a young man, he had the opportunity of making the most of the good gifts Fortune showered upon him. Every court in Europe was open to him; there were many capital cities where he might have found a fitting scene for the spending of his wealth and the display of his peculiar talents, but Hanover, little Hanover, drew him back again—whereof who shall say? He had no ties there of long standing, no attractions equal to those of Versailles and Dresden, no friends, unless it were the Princess whom he had known in boyhood, and who was now in a position which should have debarred intimacy. Whether it was chance or a set plan, whether it was destiny or the desire of the moth for the flame, whatever it was, Königsmarck returned to Hanover, and from that moment Sophie Dorothea’s good angel deserted her.