CROSSING THE RUBICON.
(1692.)
Bist du mein?
Hab’ ich dich wieder?
Darf ich dich fassen?
Kann ich mir trauen?
Endlich! Endlich!
Art thou mine?
Do I behold thee?
Do I embrace thee?
Can I believe it?
At last! At last!
_Tristan und Isolde._
While the Princess was still at Celle an event happened at Hanover which
created much excitement. Colt writes: “The gates have been shut for two
days at Hanover, accompanied with a great consternation. Yet first the
two Moltkes were brought to court under a guard, where they are kept
close, and all their papers taken. One is Jagermaster,[83] and hath been
employed in the business with the Duke of Saxe-Gotha; and the other was
Lieutenant-Colonel, and had waited upon the Prince Max; and there is
also secured a secretary to the Duke of Wolfenbüttel, who formerly
served Prince Augustus, the Duke’s second son, who was killed in
Transylvania. And next day Prince Max was secured under guard in his
chamber, none of his servants being suffered to come near him; but the
Duchess, who is under great affliction, and the Duke say’d publicly that
there were designs against his person and Government, and many storeys
are dispersed about.”[84]
-----
Footnote 83:
Grand Master of the Hunt.
Footnote 84:
Colt’s _Despatch_, Celle, December 8, 1691.
-----
The story circulated by authority was that Count Moltke, who was in
waiting on the Duke, had presented a snuff-box to His Highness when he
was playing at quadrille. The Duke, suspecting something wrong, asked
the Count to take his cards for a moment, and going into the adjoining
room gave a pinch of the snuff to a pet spaniel, with the result that
the dog immediately fell dead. When he had given some hurried orders,
the Duke returned to the card-table, and presently told Count Moltke
that some one was waiting for him without. When the Count went out of
the room, he found himself a prisoner, and his arrest was followed by
that of his brother, the Wolfenbüttel secretary, and Prince Maximilian.
This was the rumour industriously spread abroad; but it was not correct.
Moltke had made no attempt against the life of his sovereign; but he had
undoubtedly plotted against his authority. The old question of the union
of the Dukedoms of Celle and Hanover, and the settling of all territory
on Prince George Louis to the exclusion of his younger brothers, had
cropped up again. This was the Duke of Hanover’s darling scheme, a
necessary step towards the coveted electorate, and he would allow
nothing to come between him and his ambition. The younger princes
stoutly opposed it and rebelled. The Duke of Wolfenbüttel secretly
abetted them, because primogeniture would add largely to the future
aggrandisement of Hanover; and even the Duchess Sophia regarded the plan
with dislike, as it pressed so hardly on her younger sons. Prince
Augustus being dead, it now fell on Prince Max, the third son, to rebel,
and Count Moltke and his brother aided and abetted him. The Wolfenbüttel
secretary was also implicated; the plot was almost ripe, and a rising
was planned, when the conspirators were betrayed by a double traitor,
who had wormed himself into their confidence by pretending to be their
friend. An outbreak of the populace was feared, for the people’s
sympathies were with the young princes in their resistance to this
innovation, and Prince George Louis was unpopular.
The Duke of Hanover’s resentment was very great, especially against his
cousins of Wolfenbüttel, with whom all relations were abruptly broken
off. Prince Max continuing mutinous, and, vowing he would never submit,
was kept a closer prisoner than ever; his guards were doubled and his
mother forbidden to go near him. Indeed, she herself was suspected and
examined before the council. It has been said that the Princess Sophie
Dorothea was implicated too, and Moltke was offered his liberty if he
would confess her share in the business, but he refused and denied. The
suggestion was probably made at the instigation of the Countess Platen,
who would start any lie against the Princess. There is no authority for
the statement; Colt in his long account of the affair does not even
mention the Princess’s name. She was at Celle at the time the plot was
discovered, and both the Duke and Duchess of Celle were in favour of the
ultimate settlement by primogeniture of the dukedoms on Prince George
Louis, seeing that he had wedded their daughter, and the children were
their only descendants.
The Princess and her children came back to Hanover with her parents
early in January for the carnival. “The court of Celle arrived here last
night,” writes Colt, “and were received with extra kindness, much
different to what I have seen since I have been in these parts, and they
seem to bind all their thoughts to secure the union of these two
dukedoms.”[85] And again: “The court of Celle will continue here for
some time, and the Duke and Duchess of Celle shew an extraordinary
fondness for their daughter and grandchildren”.[86]
-----
Footnote 85:
Colt’s _Despatch_, Hanover, January 5, 1692.
Footnote 86:
_Ibid._, January 8, 1692.
-----
By this time Prince Max had been sent away as a prisoner to the castle
of Hamelin, and after a good deal of blustering had promised to submit
to paternal authority under certain conditions. Further inquiries
revealed that the plot was an old one and had many branches. Duke Antony
Ulrich had been the moving power, and both the dead princes, Augustus
and Charles, were inculpated. The feeling at the Hanoverian court ran
strongly against Duke Antony Ulrich, and even the Duchess Sophia found
herself exposed to resentment, though nothing could be proved against
her, poor lady, beyond that, having a mother’s heart, she had helped her
unruly sons now and then out of her slender pin money (not that she had
much to give—Countess Platen saw to that) when their father had cast
them out with the proverbial shilling. It must have been a sore time for
the proud, high-spirited Duchess. To add a drop more of bitterness to
her cup, the Duchess of Celle was now at Hanover, a witness of the
humiliation of her rival, and herself flattered and courted. It may be
doubted if Eléonore had sufficient magnanimity not to vaunt her triumph;
yet she would have done well to be humble in the days of her prosperity,
for even at this, its apogee, there was a far more dangerous intrigue
than any Prince Max was involved in, secretly but surely undermining her
future happiness, and threatening to bring disaster on her cherished
schemes, and ruin and dishonour on all most dear to her.
But whatever misery and wretchedness lay behind the scenes, externally
the court of Hanover was as gay and brilliant as ever. The New Year
opened as usual with the carnival, an Italian opera, and a series of
festivities, in which all took part, from the court down to the common
people. The taverns were thronged with mummers and masqueraders, the
streets of the old town were bright with booths and bunting, and a large
concourse of merrymakers flocked to Hanover from the surrounding towns
and villages. The nobility came from their country estates, and many of
the neighbouring princes and princesses came for the carnival too. In
all these festivities Sophie Dorothea was the central figure. Every one
paid court to the beautiful young Princess of Hanover, who, high in the
favour of her parents and the Duke of Hanover, triumphed for the moment
over her enemies and seemed to gather up in herself and her children all
the brilliant hopes of the House of Brunswick-Lüneburg.
The children formed the strong link of the alliance between Celle and
Hanover. Even the Duchess of Celle had come to see that, however much in
her heart she might dislike the Duchess Sophia and the Hanoverian
influence, henceforth their interests were to a great extent identical.
The young Prince George Augustus was now nine, the little Princess
Sophie Dorothea five; they were her grandchildren and the
representatives of the fast accumulating dignities of the House. The
future union of the dukedoms was settled, the electorate of Hanover was
almost assured, the crown of England, now that William and Mary had
ascended the throne, no longer a mere mirage. Who could tell to what
brilliant future these children might not be destined? Her
descendants—the descendants of the hated and despised Eléonore—the
“Frenchwoman,” the _canaille_, the “Signora,” the “little clot of
dirt”—might live to ascend the mightiest thrones of Europe.[87] These
considerations might well make Duchess Eléonore pause, and make her
watch closely the conduct of her daughter, lest by folly or indiscretion
she might blight her career and injure the prospects of her children.
She again spoke to the Princess and urged her to avoid Königsmarck. The
Princess-Dowager of East Friesland, who, with her daughter-in-law, had
come to Hanover (ostensibly for the carnival, in reality to try to
smooth things down between the Dukes of Hanover and Wolfenbüttel), also
repeated certain rumours she had heard to the Duchess of Celle, who in
turn communicated them to her daughter. The Princess was frightened, and
directed Knesebeck to tell Königsmarck of what had passed, and to
impress on him the need of greater caution in the future. Königsmarck
wrote:—
“[HANOVER, _February_.]
“I am extremely surprised to learn from La Confidente all that has
happened. As I had heard nothing from you, I was in despair; but when
your letter came it was so loving that I will not hint at what I
feared most. I again picked up a little courage. What worries me most
is that your mother has been preaching at you; for though she may be
on your side she is sure to watch you closely, and when she learns
that you have been talking to me she will become more suspicious, and
I fear will tell everything to the Duke. Try to prevent that, or we
are lost for ever. I am grieved to be the cause of all this trouble.
But you are so sweet and charming, it is not my fault; you must blame
yourself for having made in me such an unlucky choice. It is cruel to
think that while everybody can make love to you, and you can speak to
whom you will without any fault-finding, I am the only one excluded.
When I think how your mother encourages Monsieur Welling,[88] on the
one hand, and on the other forbids me to speak to you, I am so enraged
that I could stab her, and I wish her a thousand times a day to the
devil. If the earth were to open and swallow up her and the
Dowager,[89] how glad I should be! I believe all the fiends plot
together to annoy me, but they will not succeed if only you remain
faithful. I can patiently endure all things so long as you do not
change, but I fear they will terrify you so that in the end they will
succeed in their diabolical plans. How I hate them! Were I lord of the
thunderbolts there would be many grey heads battered about; but as I
am not, I can only implore you to hate all those who are working
against me, and urging you to forget me. You will not refuse this
prayer if you have any love left for me. If you wish, I will go away
to some village near, for I cannot veil my eyes so that the world does
not see my adoration; but if you will suffer me even to look at you,
you will give me joy,—without that I cannot stay. Be merciful and
write to me. Forget not to assure me of your love, for now is the
time; if your heart begins to cool, the plotters will succeed in their
infamous designs.
“Now as to reproaches. You might have spoken to me coming out of the
Princess’s[90] door, for your father had already retired, and there
would have been no danger on account of the Prince. But terror
prevented you; I know you so well. I have everything to fear; every
one plots against me, men and demons, and even old women, who are
worse than demons.”
-----
Footnote 87:
As, in point of fact, they did, George Augustus as George II. of Great
Britain; Sophie Dorothea as Queen of Prussia, and mother of Frederick
the Great.
Footnote 88:
“Baron Welling is come hither to prepare matters.”—Colt’s _Despatch_,
Hanover, January, 1692.
Footnote 89:
The Princess-Dowager of East Friesland. “The two Princesses of East
Frise [Friesland] arrived yesterday.”—Colt’s _Despatch_, Hanover,
February 9, 1692.
Footnote 90:
The Princess of East Friesland.
-----
The Princess was torn by conflicting emotions—her infatuation on the one
hand, and her dread of discovery on the other. She had not yet
capitulated wholly; but under the impetuous assaults of her lover the
outworks were falling one by one, the citadel would soon be stormed.
While she was hesitating, the carnival broke up, and Sophie Dorothea
returned with her parents to Celle. The Duchess Sophia seems to have
gone too.[91]
-----
Footnote 91:
“The Duke of Hanover hath sent all the women hither.”—Colt’s
_Despatch_, Celle, February 23, 1692.
-----
The Duke of Hanover had an object in sending “all the women” out of the
way, for he wished to try his prisoners and bring Prince Max to his
knees—things he could do better when freed from feminine influence. He
soon succeeded, for Max renounced his claims, and the prisoners were
found guilty and sent back to their prison to wait sentence. The Duke of
Hanover then went to join his brother at Celle, where much company was
assembled, including the Duke and Duchess of Saxe-Eisenach. Königsmarck
was there too, perhaps in the suite of the Duke of Hanover, possibly on
a visit to his brother-in-law, Count Lewenhaupt, to whom the Duke of
Celle had recently given the command of a regiment of Foot.[92]
-----
Footnote 92:
“The Duke of Celle hath at last given the new-raised regiment of Foot
to the Count Lewenhaupt, a Swede, brother-in-law to Count Königsmarck,
who commands a regiment of Hanover.”—Colt’s _Despatch_, January 22,
1692.
-----
Königsmarck was, of course, invited to all the court festivities at
Celle, and had many opportunities of meeting the Princess. But she was
on her guard in public, so much so that the Duchess of Celle could
detect nothing definite, though she seems to have sounded Königsmarck,
if we may judge from his next letter to the Princess. In this letter
appears the first hint of an idea which gradually matured in the
Princess’s mind side by side with the growth of her passion—namely, that
she and her lover should escape by flight from a situation intolerable
to both.
“[CELLE, _March_.]
“La Confidente will tell you that I was more than satisfied yesterday,
though I had no other delight than pressing your hand. Our restraint
has its charms, for though the last few days I have seen you only in
places where even the language of the eyes is scarcely possible, I
have had many happy moments. What a delight _ma petite_, for us to be
able to communicate with impunity in the presence of thousands of
people! What a delight! Speak to me a little more in the same way, but
only when there is no risk, for I should be sore distressed to cause
you more trouble than I do already.... Keep in the same mind as you
were yesterday, and though the whole world conspire against us, never
mind so long as we love one another. They will soon tire of preaching
at you, and then we shall enjoy perfect peace. I have not yet seen
Aurora, but I shall know all from her. I have had a long conversation
with the Duchess of Celle. I believe her to be the most deceitful of
women. She says the prettiest things to me, yet all the time she is
doing her best to ruin me with you. I hope to Heaven she will not
succeed! Do not believe all these women may tell you, for they will
make every effort to set you against me. But I should be wrong to
doubt you _after the proposition you made to me—that you are willing
to leave all this pomp and splendour and retire with me to some corner
of the world_. After that I have nothing to fear. I accept your offer
with joy. You have only to say the word and I am ready. If the result
of your parents’ persecution be to force you to take such a step, I
hope they will persecute you a hundred times more, so that you may act
promptly. Why should we not fly to-night?
“Surely, Madame, my manner towards the Duchess of Saxe-Eisenach[93]
must have shown you that my heart is all yours, and no other beauty
can find place there, not even that princess. I hope you have no cause
to complain of my behaviour to the other ladies here. It is true I
flattered His Highness’s mistress,[94] in the hope she would tell me
what she was about, and she would not say anything. I stand well with
Monseigneur,[95] and he shows me more courtesy than usual.”
-----
Footnote 93:
“The Duke and Duchess of Saxe-Eisenach are come hither.”—Colt’s
_Despatch_, Celle, March 4, 1692.
Footnote 94:
Countess Platen.
Footnote 95:
Duke of Celle.
-----
The Princess, during the next few days at Celle, seems to have behaved
with more circumspection. In this she was only obeying the dictates of
common prudence. Nevertheless her precautions called forth the following
remonstrances:—
“I imagined that in possessing your love I should be the happiest man
in the world. I little thought I should have so few opportunities of
speaking to you. I tell you frankly this continual restraint falls far
short of perfect felicity, and my happiness will never be complete
until I enter upon it wholly. Believe me, this is true. I was speaking
to La Confidente about it last night; she will tell you my wishes
anon. I have to talk to you just like every one else, and precautions
have to be taken, though they wound and vex us. Let us hope for better
times, for until then we are doomed to suffer. Meanwhile forget
nothing that will give me comfort, and assure me of your tender love;
you cannot do this better than in letting me see you as often as
possible. Did you really notice how the Duchess of Saxe-Eisenach
attacked me? I hope when I have answered her two or three times as
curtly as possible, she will clearly understand that I want no
intercourse with her.”
“Your kind note assures me of your tender love and assurances must
suffice for the present. But, Madame, I am not the man to let myself
be made sport of, and if your promises do not agree with your conduct
they will not make the slightest impression on me. You have not
treated me very well the last two days, and I cannot quite believe
your notes; but if you change your manners, I am quite ready to accept
your protestations. I am forced to assume an extremely distant manner
towards you, and it makes me furious; I wish you could alter it, but
you cannot. Pardon me once more. It is my hot temper—I know it, but
you are the cause.”
Königsmarck’s “hot temper” seems to have led him into a breach of good
manners, for later we find him writing:—
“If you could see my despair you would forgive me the fault I have
just committed. I was piqued and annoyed because you would not deign
to look at me once during the play, though I sat immediately opposite.
I do not deserve your haughty airs; the sacrifice I have made for you
of the Duchess of Saxe-Eisenach[96] at least deserved a glance. You
can see for yourself that I hardly look at her, and when she speaks to
me I answer her very briefly, so as to cut short any further
conversation. Her lady-in-waiting says that the Duchess finds me much
changed. But a truce to all that; it is not worth speaking about. Give
me pardon, Princess, I implore you, and arrange for me to see you
to-morrow. I could hardly get a glimpse of you, for the dancing made
me very hot, and, as I was unable to change my linen, I did not like
to come near you. This is a poor excuse, and I can only throw myself
upon your mercy. La Confidente will intercede for me. I hovered
outside your apartments for half an hour to see if La Confidente were
coming out. I wanted to knock at your back door, but I dared not. What
torment for me to miss the society of my adored one! What a night I
shall spend! _Grand Dieu!_ what was I thinking about? What demon
possessed me? If you will not forgive me you will drive me to despair.
I shall go away at once and weep over my sins in the regiment, so let
me know my fate. Farewell, my dearest one. Shall I dare to call you so
again? Verily I do not deserve that privilege. I am in torment. When
will you send me an answer? For the love of Heaven, let me have one
soon.”
-----
Footnote 96:
“The courts of Hanover and Saxe-Eisenach go from hence after
to-morrow; there has been much company here for several days.”—Colt’s
_Despatch_, Celle, March 8, 1692.
-----
The Princess forgave him, probably on the morrow, and how fully may be
gathered from the following rapturous epistle:—
“I slept like a king, and I hope you did the same. What joy! what
rapture! what enchantment have I not tasted in your sweet arms! Ye
gods! what a night I spent! The memory of it blots out all my
troubles, and for the moment I count myself the happiest man on earth.
You see, it rests wholly with you to make me happy, and when I am sad
you are the cause. Adieu, dear heart. How long the day will seem to me
without seeing you! Adieu.”
And he wrote later the same day:—
“Verily I am overwhelmed by the tokens of love you have vouchsafed to
me. I shall never be able to show you my gratitude, but shall always
be your debtor. I love and I am loved. Is there any bliss approaching
mine? I count myself the happiest of mortals, and even of the gods.
Ah! most beautiful one! The tenderness you have shown me compels me to
love you, and makes me despise the favours of good and the caprices of
bad fortune. Time will bring no change in my love. I would abandon for
you all ties—family, relations, women, even wife and children had I
any. My passion intoxicates me. I can no longer think—words fail. I
commit myself to your keeping; do with me as you will. I can scarcely
keep my heart within bounds; it strives perpetually to burst away and
thank you for its captivity, for it loves to be the slave of one who
treats it so generously. I fear I shall lose it altogether, but as I
cannot live without a heart, for pity’s sake, Madame, give me yours in
return, for without one or the other I shall die. Do not put off my
seeing you this evening, I beseech you. You have convinced me so
deeply that you love me, that I have never loved you so much before.
You have never appeared to me so altogether lovely. With crossed hands
and bended knees I thank you for all you have vouchsafed unto me.
Suffer me therefore to see you again to-day, and do not put me off. I
should die.
“The Prince went away to-day at eight o’clock. He is angry because you
wished to remain with your mother. All goes wonderfully well.
Farewell.”
On the return of the court to Hanover, Duke Ernest Augustus concentrated
his energies on obtaining the long-deferred electorate, and he made the
electoral bonnet a positive condition to his rejoining the Allies.
William of Orange was already at the Hague, busily making arrangements
for the forthcoming campaign of 1692. He found that Denmark and Sweden
threatened to become actively hostile. Brandenburg was sullen, and
Saxony disaffected. He could therefore ill afford to lose the services
of the Duke of Hanover, and had again to promise him his support and
influence with the Emperor for the Electorate. But Ernest Augustus
wanted something more than promises. “This Duke,” writes Colt, “is
certainly resolved to make all things as sure as he can with the Emperor
before he lets his troops stir out of the country.”[97] The Duke of
Celle, who was warmly on the side of the Allies, generously waived his
claim as elder brother to the electorate, seeing that his younger
brother could be gained on no other terms. But still the Emperor
hesitated. He knew that the French agent was at Hanover, and intrigues
were on foot with Denmark and Sweden, and he stipulated that the Duke
should first declare against France. As neither side trusted the other,
negotiations did not advance very quickly.
-----
Footnote 97:
Colt’s _Despatch_, Hanover, April 15, 1692.
-----
In the meantime Königsmarck went on one of his frequent journeys to
Hamburg, ostensibly to visit his estate hard by, probably to combine
pleasure with his business. Hamburg was then a strongly fortified town
much frequented by the princes of northern Germany. Some ten years
previously the first theatre in Germany for operas was opened at
Hamburg, and this helped to make it a favourite resort of the gay world.
Just at this time it gained a special importance, as it was the
meeting-place of many of the representatives of the great Alliance,
including several German princes and the disaffected northern Powers who
came thither to intrigue concerning the coming campaign. Königsmarck’s
visit might possibly have had something of a diplomatic nature, but no
hint of this appears in his letters. His relations with the Princess had
continued in unbroken harmony, if we may judge from the little note he
sent her on the eve of his leaving:—
“[HANOVER, undated.]
“I should deem myself all unworthy of your love were I to go away
without assuring you how deeply I am sensible of your kindness. Yes,
beautiful mouth, you love me, I doubt no longer, and my bliss is
perfect. I start with that belief only.... The letter inclosed from
Hamburg will show how things are going with my sister. I will write
you more fully. I kiss your hands. I am all yours.”
The ensuing letters which he wrote to the Princess when on this journey
explain themselves:—
“HAMBURG, _March 22_.
“I have reached here at last, after great trouble and danger, for
about a league from Hanover my carriage broke down, and in crossing
the Elbe I thought I should have been drowned. My servants had taken
lodgings at the inn to which I usually come, and to crown all, I found
that the Princess d’Otfrise[98] and the Duchess of Saxe-Eisenach were
lodged there. I was greatly puzzled what to do, for they sent word for
me to come and dine with them; but, my dear little heart, I remembered
my promise to you, and determined to decamp. So I pretended that I had
pressing and urgent business which compelled me to leave at once, and,
without seeing them, I marched off and changed my quarters. But I did
not leave the town, for I found my brother-in-law and sister[99] here.
I gave my sister an exact account of all that had taken place since
she left, and she did the same to me....
“To come to my story, they say I named you personally.[100] You know
the rest. I need not justify myself to you; you know me too well. I am
now trying to find the author of this underhand business. Should I
unearth him, I will avenge myself in a way that will make others
careful not to invent any more lies. My brother-in-law also has a
little matter to settle. Some one said in his cups: ‘O, truly, when
one has a sister-in-law who sleeps with a prince one can soon have
regiments’.[101] They say that the author of this story is
Lieutenant-Colonel Grot, or little Count Steinbock. We shall demand an
explanation sword in hand, and see what they will say. I leave
to-morrow for my estate. Farewell.”
-----
Footnote 98:
East Friesland. Colt sometimes calls her “Otfrise” too.
Footnote 99:
Count and Countess Lewenhaupt.
Footnote 100:
It is worthy of note that the same charge, boasting when he was in his
cups, of his intimacy with the Princess was made against Königsmarck
two years later (1694) at the court of Dresden.
Footnote 101:
This refers to Aurora von Königsmarck and the recent appointment of
Count Lewenhaupt to a regiment of Celle.
-----
“_En Route._
“On dismounting here they gave me three of your letters. Picture my
joy! I had begun to think that you had quite forgotten me. M. de
Bielke has begged me to come to supper with him, but as some ladies
with whom I used to flirt will be there, I am not going, for I want to
have the satisfaction of swearing to you that all the time I am away I
have not said sweet things to any woman whatsoever.... Do not write to
me any more. Two of your letters have been sealed with another seal,
and that makes me fear. I will show them to you.”
“_Monday evening at_ REINBEK.[102]
“As I again catch the post here I cannot let it go without writing,
and I think this letter will reach you sooner than the one I sent this
morning by my servant. Let us unite against those who would break us
asunder; they will tire when they see our constancy. It is distraction
to have no news from you and to be unable to hold you in my arms. I
must arm myself with patience, little by little, for I am sore afraid
that this summer I shall have to exercise myself greatly in that
virtue. The postillion is on horseback. If I could be in his place I
could see you by dinner-time, but as it is I cannot until after
to-morrow. I am raging that old Time should lag so much. I spend every
evening in miserable inns. Since I left Hanover I have only slept on
straw; but (think of my impertinence!), uncomfortable though I was,
every moment I wished you with me, without thinking that you would be
uncomfortable too. If my desire had come to pass I should have pitied
you; for you would often have been very badly off for a bed, and
roughly lodged. Farewell. I shall die if I do not see you soon.”[103]
-----
Footnote 102:
Reinbek is a village close to Hamburg.
Footnote 103:
The letter concludes with many more expressions of devotion.
-----
On his return Königsmarck renewed his court to the Princess, with
varying fortune as before.
Great military activity now prevailed at Hanover and Celle. The Duke of
Hanover, satisfied that the electorate was to come soon, at last
declared for the Allies. The diplomacy of William of Orange had
triumphed all along the line. The Brunswick princes were sending troops
to Flanders. Saxony had been bribed with a present of one hundred
thousand rix-dollars and the promise of the Garter. Brandenburg had been
conciliated; and, last and most difficult of all, Denmark and Sweden
were appeased for awhile. But these negotiations lost time; and while
the Allies were haggling and William conciliating Louis again took the
field. In vain William tried to hasten his confederate princes; they
were late as usual in sending troops. The French king started on his
campaign, and his progress resembled a triumphal march. To gratify his
love of display, Louis held a grand review near Mons, the scene of his
triumph the previous year. The pageant over, he set forth to lay siege
to Namur. Fully alive to the advantage gained by the French, King
William made every effort to hurry his laggard allies, with the result
that the troops of the several princes gradually took the field.
The troops of Celle and Hanover were to be commanded by Prince George
Louis, and preparations at Hanover were pushed forward with all speed.
Königsmarck was to go with his regiment; but to the astonishment of all
he manifested no enthusiasm to serve in the campaign, and lingered until
the eleventh hour. His letter to the Princess will explain his conduct.
Knowing how she was spied upon, and doubtful of her strength and his,
the Princess was afraid to risk a parting in private. He writes:—
“[HANOVER, _June_.]
“The reluctance you have shown to speak to me surprises me; nay, more,
it makes me tremble. But I will still try to believe that you could
not do otherwise without giving ground for suspicion. Yet one should
risk something when it is a question of ‘Good-bye’ for six
months.[104] I think so, for instead of going I linger here. See how
much I love you! I neglect my duty, which calls me away for the rest
of the year, though it is so urgent that I ought to go at once. But,
my dear one, how can I leave without bidding you adieu? My love does
not suffer me—I would rather die. I will not reproach you; I will keep
silence and watch you at the games, for Madame la Princesse must play,
apparently! I will go; but it must be from your lovely eyes that I
learn my fate. If you do not like to _say_ ‘Good-bye,’ let me see it
in your eyes,—they will give me light. Unless I cruelly deceive
myself, I shall find much love in them. If I had sufficient
self-control could I not have gone away—could I not have had orders so
pressing that it would have been impossible for me to return, or
perchance feigned an illness as an excuse for not bidding you
farewell? Yet I am glad that you give me the opportunity of showing
you how much stronger my love is than yours. I am truly your slave,
and wear your chains with joy.”
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Footnote 104:
The Hanoverian troops were away about six months—June to late October.
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And again:—
“I cannot leave Hanover without writing to you, yet to write renews my
grief. The torments of hell would not pain me more than distance and
absence from you. How happy I should be if I could be as one of the
least of your servants, to be near you, to hear your voice! I would
willingly change my condition for the common sentinel, for at least I
could stand under your windows and worship you from there. Alas! that
cannot be; and since I am destined to suffer, assure me of your love
and constancy. Adieu.”
At last Königsmarck tore himself away, and left Hanover for the camp, to
march on the morrow to Flanders. At this point the Princess’s letters
begin.