LOVE’S BITTERNESS.
Ah! what a little time to love is lent;
Yet half that time is in unkindness spent!
DRYDEN.
The Princess spent the month of July at Celle and Wienhausen with her
parents. She did not once meet her lover, who remained at Hanover daily
expecting orders to start on the campaign against the Danes. For,
contrary to expectation, and despite the mediation of an Imperial envoy,
who journeyed to Hanover on purpose to arrange matters, the Duke of
Celle and the Elector of Hanover came to an open rupture with Denmark
and Sweden over the fortifications of Ratzeburg, and Denmark sent troops
to demolish them. This, of course, was tantamount to a declaration of
war. It was an anxious time for the little court of Celle, for the Danes
were far superior in numbers, and if successful at Ratzeburg they might
follow up their advantage by entering the duchy and even seizing Celle
itself.
It was especially unfortunate for the Princess, who, absorbed in her mad
passion and desperately unhappy, had come to the conclusion that she
could no longer live at the court of Hanover, or indeed anywhere apart
from her lover. She therefore concentrated her energies on obtaining a
grant of money from her father, a sum sufficient for her to maintain an
establishment of her own. The plea for independence was reasonable
enough, for she had been very unfairly treated in her marriage
settlement; and at any other time the Duke, ignorant of the real reason
for which she wanted the money, might have been disposed to listen, but
now, with the expense of raising many troops and the possibility of
defeat and ruin, he was quite unable to accede to her wishes. Without
money things must e’en go on as before, for separate establishments were
expensive, and flight was even more so, and Königsmarck, wealthy though
he was, had none at this juncture. He was crippled with gambling debts,
he had neglected his affairs, and the King of Sweden threatened to
confiscate his estates. The lovers were in despair; everything fought
against them; all around was war and rumour of war; while, to add to it
all, Königsmarck was now to be sent away on a campaign against the
Danes. Yet, as usual, their letters are filled alternately with ardent
love and fierce jealousy; their love was not of a nature to give either
of them any rest, even if things had gone smoothly. The proximity of
Prince Max, despite the fact that he was the Princess’s brother-in-law,
was sufficient to arouse Königsmarck’s suspicions (a curious comment on
the morals of the time), and she, in her turn, was furiously jealous
because he gave a farewell party to which the Countess Platen was
invited. But the story of all this is told in the letters, which begin
with the Princess’s arrival at Celle and close with her return to
Hanover. The Princess sent Königsmarck a few lines to tell him that she
had reached Celle (and a little poem unfortunately lost), to which he
replied.
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“HANOVER, _June_ 26/_July_ 6.
“After many days I received a letter from you. It gave me as much joy
in reading it as a starving man would have in devouring a delicate
morsel when he had not tasted food for days. It satisfied my craving a
little, but I still hunger until I kiss you again. I don’t understand
in what your father is hard, unless it be in the matter of your
separate establishment. If that be so, I am surprised you should have
broached the subject so soon, when you had only been home one night. I
hope you will succeed, for your mother is on your side, and if your
love be true you will work for it.... If you really wrote that song
you ought to write some more, for it is very well done, and most kind
to ‘Tercis’; he thanks you very much, and when certain fancies are out
of his head, he will try to answer it. Though your mother has promised
you two thousand crowns, I fear it will be very little good, but it is
well to have her on your side—would to Heaven your father were the
same! I hope I shall not offend if I implore you, in case your mother
warns you against me, not to let her make the least impression on your
mind. The officious attentions of Prince Max and of those of whom you
do not write, as well as the conversation you had with him, displease
me very much. You asked me if you might speak to him, and you did so
without my consent. Why did you not tell me?...
“I am a little reassured, for Prince Max has just arrived. Tell me all
about the foreigners who have been at Celle. Marshal Podevils asked me
yesterday to come and see him to-day, as he had something to say. I
went about eleven o’clock. He said that having been always one of my
friends, he wished to warn me some one had spoken to him about us,
saying: ‘What a row there will be if there should really be an
intrigue between them!’ I answered: ‘Monsieur, since the day you
warned me of the Elector’s suspicions I have not spoken to Madame la
Princesse _tête-à-tête_’; and I promised him to be very discreet. He
said he told the person who mentioned the matter that he would answer
for me, and it was better not to speak about such things. He would not
give the person’s name, but I think it is a friend of yours and mine,
110.[199] The Marshal firmly believes this gossip originates with La
Platen. He is on your side and pities you much, and it is kind of him
to have warned me. He declared that the Elector was no longer
suspicious, which is a comfort.
“The companies of infantry are marching, but my regiment remains near
Hanover for a few days. Whether the Danes advance or not, I shall
still have to go with the army. I must start without seeing you unless
you can arrange it otherwise. It depends on your mercy and tenderness
to say whether I shall be able to kiss your feet, and if my kisses are
dear and sweet to you, you will say ‘Yes’. Do not risk anything, for
precautions must be taken. We are treading on dangerous ground; but
when people love as we love they do not consider trifles, and if one
holds the loved one, what matters the cost? Were I to see the scaffold
before my eyes I would not swerve.”
-----
Footnote 199:
110, probably some courtier at Hanover, but the key is missing. (?
Sitardie.)
-----
_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[CELLE,] _Wednesday, July_ 8.
“If my letters give you pleasure, yours are the only joy of my life.
But I have had one to-day which both rejoices and grieves me. I am
_desolée_ to see you are not satisfied with me. If I did not mention I
had spoken to Max it was because I had not then done so. I had no
conversation with him until the day he left, and this is word for word
what passed between us. I said: ‘Max, I thank you for the courtesy you
showed me at Luisburg’. He replied: ‘It was only my duty, and I shall
always be glad to serve you in all things’. I was rinsing my mouth.
Bernstorff and my mother were at the other side of the room, quite
near. I vow our conversation ended there. That same evening he took
leave of my father and my mother (who was holding my hand). She kissed
him, and desired me to do the same. I withdrew my hand abruptly, and
went to the other side of the room, whence I asked him in a loud voice
to convey my respects to the Electress. Later on, my mother begged my
pardon, and I asked her never to suggest such a thing again, as it
annoyed me greatly.
“What Marshal Podevils told you surprises me. I thought they no longer
suspected anything between us. I am not accusing 110; all my
suspicions fall on 103.[200] Had 110 done so, he would have been the
falsest of men; for he swore on his honour to warn me of anything that
might be said about me, and assured me he never heard anything. Try to
find out from Marshal Podevils who told him this gossip, for it is of
consequence if the Elector suspects anything afresh; if not, I count
it of no importance. They are all very much pleased with my conduct
here; the Electress spoke of me in the highest terms. I little
expected you to tell me you are still going with the army—if you can.
The blow stuns me. Why did you let me think you were going to stay
when you all along meant the contrary? I am deeply hurt to think you
are going far away from me, perhaps for long. Were you to stay, in
three weeks’ time I should be able to see you again. How I long for
it! How dull and tedious are the days! You are all my joy. La
Confidente and I are always thinking how we can manage things for you
to come here; but the difficulties make me feel hopeless. I long for
you with passionate longing.
“_Grand Dieu!_ if you go away without seeing me I shall die....”
-----
Footnote 200:
I cannot find the key to these numbers in the cypher.
-----
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“HANOVER, _June_ 28/_July_ 8.
“I advise you not to speak of me so frequently, and not answer the
Prince unless you wish to write to him; in that case you might say
that you asked me when I took leave of you why I was not going to
Flanders, and I said I had first to raise money to pay my debts in
Flanders. I think you can easily say this; it would do neither harm
nor good, so please yourself, and do whatever may be most _à propos_.
Pray be on good terms with Bernstorff; but beware! Do not let him see
you are estranged from the Prince, and don’t let him guess that you
wish the money to retire upon some day, and prevent your mother from
making a fuss or saying anything about it. Mind you take my advice.
You must not ignore the fact that everything Bernstorff knows La
Platen knows; and business of this consequence is liable to be known
by them simultaneously. Do not fret about my losses; they are not very
great, and if I lose villages I gain a divinity, who is worth more to
me than all the kingdoms put together. Your vows of constancy console
me for all my troubles.”
_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[CELLE,] _Friday_, _June_ 30/_July_ 10.
“I witnessed yesterday a scene between my father and mother which gave
me much food for thought. One could not imagine anything more unkind
and bitter than the things they said to each other. Buccow[201] was
the cause; my father defended him, which made my mother desperately
angry. I trembled to see two people whom love alone united so much
exasperated at so little; indeed, they threatened to leave one
another. Two hours after they made it up; but my mother was stung to
the quick by my father’s words, and with reason. You may imagine she
has very little influence if she cannot succeed in a business she has
so much at heart. It doesn’t make me hopeful about my affair, for all
my trust was in her, and I see it is enough for her to wish a thing
for it not to be done. My father is hard beyond imagination. I am far
from expecting great things of him, and I see from his manner towards
my mother that one cannot believe in his kindness; so I am in a very
bad humour to-day....”
-----
Footnote 201:
Buccow (_Le Bâtard_), the illegitimate son of the Duke of Celle.
-----
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“[HANOVER,] _Friday_, _June_ 30/_July_ 10, _Twelve o’clock midday_.
“The life I have been leading since the court returned must, I fear,
give you cause for much jealousy, for I am playing every night with
ladies, and, without vanity, they are neither ugly nor of mean rank. I
crave your pardon, but I cannot live without a little pleasure, and
one of them is so much like you that I cannot help being in her
society. You will be curious to know her name, but I will not tell,
for fear you may forbid me to pay her my court. I cannot forget those
delectable moments at Brockhausen. What pleasure! what transports!
what ardour! what rapture we tasted together! and with what grief we
parted! Oh that I could live those moments over again! Would that I
had died then, drinking deep of your sweetness, your exquisite
tenderness! What transports of passion were ours!... I will always be
your true lover, absent or present, wherever you may be, and whatever
may befall. La Platen has appeared dressed in a ridiculous yellow
cloak.”
“[HANOVER (?),] _Sunday_.
“You ask me to give up the campaign. I will obey you blindly without
reflecting, but on one condition, if to save my honour I must needs go
once more you will give me leave. They tell me that General Pless, in
Denmark, is disgraced; and if that be so, that was the post they
wanted to give me. The terms were very advantageous, but it does not
matter now. The Elector has gone to Brockhausen, that charming place
where you were. Will that sweet hour ever come again? One of my
manœuvres to deceive my servants is to spend a few nights on the soft
grass, unless it rains.”
_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[CELLE,] _July_.
“I am inconsolable at finding so many difficulties in the way of our
meeting, but I could not dream of exposing you to danger, and you know
how dangerous it would be. Pity me! I have no comfort in the world but
you, yet everything is against us. Your tender caresses still linger
in my memory; I feel them still. Ah! how I long for a return of those
moments! But the joy would kill me verily. Had I not received a letter
from 205[202] before I got yours, you would have put me in a fever by
speaking so much of your pleasures and the lady you flirted with; but
I am free from anxiety, thanks to her, for she writes to me:
‘Yesterday all the ladies were at court; but they must have been very
dull, for I saw our courtiers languishing and not flirting at all. A
man must be _blasé_ indeed to be reduced to playing with children. Yet
that is what Königsmarck did all the evening; he passed the time
making houses with cards for the little princess and the little
chevalier.[203] I admired him for it, because he seemed anxious not to
give his lady-love cause for jealousy—that is, if he has one, but it
is hard to say whether he has or no.’ You may imagine how your ways
delight me and bind me more strongly to you. But there is much malice,
my very dear one, in leaving a poor woman in such dire anxiety, for
you had not the charity to tell me the name of the lady with whom you
were enjoying yourself. Except for knowing how admirably you behave,
205’s letter does not give me much pleasure; I am terribly afraid she
may suspect something. You ought to be the proudest man going, for
every one admires you. You are a universal favourite—even old women
bear witness to your charms. As for me, I count it the highest glory
to possess such a lover. Love himself is not more beautiful and
charming. You unite tenderness and faithfulness with the most perfect
manners. Nothing is wanted to complete my bliss but to see you again
and never leave you more. I spend many sleepless nights thinking about
it all; it would be infinitely more pleasant were I to spend them in
converse with you, Beloved. That is a joy I cannot hope to grasp for
several days yet; but I am resolved not to delay much longer.
“The Electress told my mother that nothing could be more hideous than
La Platen’s yellow cloak. I rejoice that neither she nor her cloak
will come in my way. I am thine, my beautiful one. I will die all
thine.”
-----
Footnote 202:
This number cannot be traced; it must be some court lady at Hanover.
Footnote 203:
The little Princess Sophie Dorothea and Prince George Augustus. This
and the following letter contain the only mention of the Princess’s
children throughout the correspondence.
-----
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“[HANOVER,] _July_ 2/12.
“I am grieved to hear that your mother has quarrelled so with your
father about Le Bâtard. It is easy to see which side is the weaker,
and I fear we can hope for nothing. You will be compelled to devote
yourself more closely than ever to the Prince, and I shall have to
seek some corner of the world, and beg for bread that I may not
starve. Frankly, your father’s conduct surprises me; there is no doubt
it is prompted by La Platen, through Bernstorff, for she rules him
absolutely and he is almighty with your father. Your preceding letter
cheered me much, for it seemed that Bernstorff wished to interest
himself on your behalf; but he is as deceitful as the devil, and
thinks to trick you. Do not trust his smooth words, but let him show
his good-will in deeds.... The Elector has gone to Herrenhausen. I
asked Prince Max where he is to be lodged, and—would you believe
it?—he is to be put in your father’s apartments next your own. You may
imagine my dismay. I cannot advise you to return, for as soon as you
are back they will make me march. When you are at Herrenhausen and
Prince Max lodged, for all intents and purposes, in your apartments,
and I forced to leave just when I hoped to find joy and
satisfaction—when all this happens, what will become of me? I suffer
every kind of misfortune—loss of money, family quarrels, and false
friends; twenty men who were under me are advanced above me; now they
are trying to make me lose my reputation, and, what is worse, I am
always sent away from my own love.
“The party was very merry. The little prince and princess danced, but
I did not join. I walked with some others by the river, and withdrew
early, abandoning myself to my sorrow and tears, which I shed
abundantly. When I had undressed I paced alone on the ramparts until
one o’clock.... Monsieur Rosse came here yesterday. He brings news
that the Danes are marching and will surely bombard Hamburg. You
cannot believe the joy this news gives me, for I may see you sooner
than I thought. Marshal Podevils has left without any one knowing
whither he has gone. That is mysterious. God grant us a happy ending
to our troubles, for I am at the end of my tether!”
“[HANOVER,] _Monday morning, July_ 3/13.
“The enclosed letter will show you how my affair in Flanders is going
on, and I send one also from my secretary; tell me what you think of
it. It seems he wishes to free me from my chains, but they are borne
with joy; all the arguments in the world will not make me go far away
from you. Who are the people who are trying to draw Prince Max again
into a troublesome intrigue? and how go things with your father and
mother? Does your mother still hope to succeed in your cause, or has
she given it up?
“I went to pay my respects to La Platen yesterday, and she proposed
_une partie pour dîner chez un cabaretier_, each man to take his lady.
I said promptly, ‘I will take Madame la Capitaine’. La Platen became
as red as scarlet, and screamed out, ‘I will take Monsieur Balati’.
She was in such a temper all through dinner that every one noticed it.
I doubt if she will forgive me the slight; but that is the least of my
troubles. So long as you are faithful I count the rest as nothing.”
_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[WIENHAUSEN,] _Wednesday, July_ 5/15.
“I am at last out of anxiety; to-night I received two of your letters.
I am grateful for your kindness in granting my prayer about the
campaign, and I vow that I will never ask anything that might harm
your honour. As they tell you, Pless[204] is disgraced, and they
formerly offered you his place; it is certain they will now offer it
again. They are sounding you about it. I am terribly frightened every
time promotion is offered you, though I am greatly distressed to think
that I am the cause of your refusing it. Yet I should die of grief if
you were to accept, for it would take you away from me so far that it
would scarcely leave any hope of my seeing you again. You know well
enough that without you life is nothing to me; you take the place of
all. Do not abandon me, for the sake of the love I bear you.
“I tremble at all you tell me about your embarrassments; I feel them
more than if they were my own, for you are dearer to me than myself.
My father and mother have quite made it up, and are on better terms
than ever. I do not give up all hope of getting my wish, and I will
not throw up the game even if they refuse me. But I find this a very
unfavourable time, for they talk of nothing but the war, and
difficulties arise on every side. We must wait until a more convenient
season. My father is more affectionate to me than ever, and my mother
overwhelms me with kindness; every day she assures me that all she
possesses in the world is for me, so I am at rest about that. If only
my father were the same I should be free of my troubles. I will die
rather than ‘devote myself to the Prince,’ as you think I shall be
compelled to do. There is no difficulty I will not conquer to be
united to you. It is the dearest wish of my heart, and I think I shall
succeed. I trust to the good-will of Bernstorff. My mother urges him
every day to make the estates of the duchy give me thirty thousand
crowns; but this terrible war will delay the business.
“I gather from your letter that I must not think of coming back to
Hanover while Max is lodged near me. We are really very unlucky;
everything conspires to vex us, in little things as in great. I hope
he will soon tire of staying at Herrenhausen and return here. If that
happens, I shall start at once to join you.... You will always be the
arbiter of my destiny. The more I read your letter the more I am
touched by it. You tell me you will be obliged ‘to seek some corner of
the world and beg bread that you may not starve’. Do you count me as
nothing? and do you think I will ever give you up, whatever may
happen? If you were reduced to that extremity, be sure nothing in the
world would hinder me from following you; I would starve with you.
_Mais, mon Dieu!_ do not let us give way to such sad thoughts. We may
perhaps be happier than we think. Let us love and comfort one another,
whatever may befall. Perhaps our sorrows will end as I have
foreshadowed; for I hope to get what I wish when things right
themselves. I will continually urge it, so that it will be hard to
resist me.
“You ask who are those who try to stir Max up again. They are Denmark
and Wolfenbüttel. It is quite true, for my father told me, and it is
feared he will yield. You have forgotten to send me your secretary’s
letter and the one from Flanders; pray remember to do so. I fear if
you irritate La Platen too much she will revenge herself. Deal gently
with her, but not too gently. I know well she will harm me all she
can, but I love you so passionately that I cannot be reasonable.”
-----
Footnote 204:
“Monsieur Pless, who formerly belonged to the Prince of
Denmark.”—_Vide_ Colt’s _Despatches_.
-----
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“_Tuesday evening._
“I forgot to enclose the letters I mentioned, so I send them now. The
review of my regiment prevents me from sending this by the midday
post. My affairs in Sweden are as bad as they can be, and your
prospects with your parents are perishing. It is enough to make us
despair.... Some officers are just coming in; I am obliged to end.
_Adieu, mon ange._ How dearly I love you! _Adieu._”
_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[CELLE,] _Friday, July_ 7/17.
“Are you not ashamed to write me such short letters? The one yesterday
was rude in its curtness. I do not think there are more than ten
lines. True, you make excuses about your officers and duties; but I am
not satisfied with such reasons, for I have every day more obstacles
than you will ever have all your life, yet I overcome them, and write
letters so long that I fear they weary you. Your secretary’s letter
conceals something which you can easily find out if you like.
Farewell, this will be short, after your example.”
“[CELLE,] _Sunday, July_ 9/19, _One o’clock in the afternoon_.
“If the Count de Steinbock[205] and Count de la Gardie are still with
you, and intend coming here, I entreat you to come with them. It is a
feasible pretext. I don’t think any one could find fault. I hope when
you get here Love will aid us, and we shall find means of seeing one
another. It will be much easier to see you here without any fuss. I
shall die if I have not the joy of embracing you. I picture such
delights when we meet that I am in ineffable transports. Should you
come, let me know beforehand, so that the excess of my joy may not
betray me. I tremble lest it may lead me to do some dangerous,
extravagant, and ridiculous thing.”
-----
Footnote 205:
Count Steinburg (or Steinbock) was an Imperial envoy, who was probably
at Hanover trying to arrange matters about the Danes on the part of
the Emperor. Colt mentions him a little later as being in the
Palatinate on a similar mission.
-----
“[CELLE,] _Monday, July_ 10/20.
“If you knew the joy the eagerness you show for us to live together
some day gives me you would see I have nothing else in my head but to
succeed in the business I have in hand. I have always feared it was
only your kindness for me that made you suggest it, and your
inclination had no real part; but I am quite free of that trouble now,
for it really seems you want it as much as I do. Be sure I have
nothing so near my heart, and I shall move heaven and earth to
succeed. Can you doubt that I would sacrifice with pleasure the whole
universe for you? I ask of God only an opportunity to prove what I
say. I count all else as nothing: you alone suffice for me. My
ambition is limited to pleasing you and keeping your heart true. You
take the place of crowns, kingdoms, and thrones to me, and all the
universe would not console me for your loss.
“I don’t think I can make Max move from where he is lodged at
Herrenhausen; I have no pretext, for our apartments are quite
separate, and have no communication whatever except by one door, which
I can close if I choose. All my women will be lodged around me.”
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“[HANOVER,] _Tuesday morning, July_ 11/21.
“You are glad, I believe, I wrote you that short letter, so that you
might have something to scold me about. I did it on purpose, so you
might know by experience what it is like. I have more than ten of
yours even shorter than mine, but _I_ did not call you rude for so
writing. You have licence to call me what you like, but you are unjust
not to accept the excuse of my military duties. I know one ought never
to admit any obstacle to one’s love, but _ma chérie_, how many times
have you not made excuses—the sentinel, the watch, or some silly tale
of people hanging about? Have I ever said a word? have I not shown
more forbearance than you? You are very imprudent to play cards with
the General and his wife; you certainly will not win much. He is a
very gallant general—at least Prince Max told me so—but he forgets his
place in praising you so highly. I should like to see you playing with
him—with your smiles and graces. How you will receive this attention
and that! and what sweet glances you will cast him to reward him! How
your eyes will sparkle at his compliments! I fancy I see you: I know
your airs. Don’t think I am jealous; it doesn’t matter to me. I know
you cannot live without admiration, and therefore it is better that it
should come from an old fool than a young fop. I talked to Prince Max
about your father’s affection for you, and he agreed with me that it
is _un amitié de singe_, since he does nothing for you. True parental
love consists in settling on one’s daughter a comfortable sum; and it
is just now that your father ought to do it, for if he should be
ruined [by the Danes], on what would you live?”
“[HANOVER,] _Friday, July_ 14/24.
“If Count Steinbock had been going to Celle I would have accompanied
him; but as he is not, I cannot gather from your letter how I am to
come. You disguise your hand so much that I can hardly make out what
you write. I should dearly love to come and see you; but it is
difficult, for Count Steinbock has gone, and they don’t speak about my
marching, so I must come _incognito_. But, before I can come
disguised, I must have instructions, and it is not easy unless I am
well posted in what I am to do; I might take a wrong step and ruin
everything. I cannot gather from your letter what it is you wish, and
I cannot make out from the feigned writing which way I am to come, or
even where you are, or how I am to keep myself hidden when I get to
Celle.”
_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[CELLE,] _Saturday, July_ 15/25.
“As the two counts have gone away, you have no longer any pretext for
coming here openly. I did not think the thing was possible otherwise.
I am opposed to your coming disguised: it is too dangerous, and, as
you say, it might ruin us for ever. Do you think that if I had been
able to find some way of seeing you I should have waited for you to
ask me how? I should have taken advantage of it long since, and not
have pined like this. Do not dream of coming here without my
knowledge; it would be a miracle if you escaped, and there are no
miracles in the time we live. You seem displeased because I don’t tell
you positively about my return. You are absolutely master of my
movements, and if you read my letters carefully you will see what I
mean. I can quite understand it would not be pleasant for you that I
should be lodged so near Max; and therefore I am compelled, in spite
of my longing to see you, to stay here. You suspect no end of things;
you imagine that if I had a real wish I could find no end of pretexts
to come. I thought you would be satisfied with my delicacy about Max.
It seemed to me that if you could have induced him to come here, I
could seize the advantage by starting the very day he left Hanover.
But do you decide, and do not think that any reason or consideration
whatever will prevent me from coming to you. I will wait for your
answer that I may do as you wish; but, for goodness’ sake! make it so
clear and straightforward that I shall not misunderstand.”
[Illustration:
THE ELECTOR ERNEST AUGUSTUS OF HANOVER.
_From an old print in the British Museum._
]
“[CELLE,] _Monday, July_ 17/27.
“I do not think you will stay long enough in Hanover for me to see you
there. My father is in great trouble. The Danes are advancing, and
have everything necessary to cross the Elbe. That will put me at a
greater distance from you. Everything combines to make me despair. I
dare not, in the state matters are, press my father about my affairs,
for if the war turns out badly things will go hard with him.
“The beginning of your letter is charming. You assure me you will risk
your life to see me. How can I show you my gratitude for all your
tenderness? But perhaps you no longer feel like this, and your love
has gone. If that be so, I wish for death! Without your love what have
I to do with life? It would only trouble me, since it is for you I
wish to live. I wrote to you yesterday all that you wish to know; that
is why I say no more. Your answer will govern my movements; I may
possibly get it to-morrow night very late. I am sure the week will not
pass without your having to march; everything they say makes me think
so. In case that should be, and I may not be able to go to you, I will
point out what you are to do to see me here.”
“_Twelve at Midnight._
“My mother tells me to-night that she wishes to take me to Milady
Colt’s[206] to-morrow. I fear it may hinder me from writing to you—a
grief to me; for, were I to write every moment of the day, my pen
would never run dry on the subject of my love. I think of nothing but
of seeing you soon; the thought fills me with joy. I asked Chauvet,
who came back from Engesen to-night, whether my father would set out
this week. He assured me that he would not, and said the Elector and
my father would not leave each other; so at last I have arrived within
sight of my desire, and no longer fear hindrance in the way of seeing
you. I much approve of your advice, and am acting upon it with all
possible despatch. I believe we shall be fortunate and have everything
we wish. I am beginning to hope that good luck will at last attend us.
Every day my affairs improve; I will give you details about them when
we meet. Only Max worries me. I will not suffer him to stay where he
is at Herrenhausen; but as I go to Hanover first, and not to
Herrenhausen until late the next day, I hope to be two nights running
in Hanover. Perhaps they will let me spend the remainder of the week
there. But I feel sure the Elector and my father will set out
together, and in that case Max will go with them. I will do exactly as
you wish; you have only to say what I am to do. Let me find you tender
and loving. You will be very cold if you resist all the love I shall
bring to bear on you. I think I shall die in your arms; my rapture
will kill me. Adieu. Do not forget to come to me the very day I
arrive. Were you to fail, I should never forgive you as long as I
live. Farewell. In the spirit I kiss you again and again; I would give
half my blood to be kissing you in reality.”
-----
Footnote 206:
Lady Colt, who lived at Celle, was Sir William Dutton Colt’s second
wife. The only child of this second marriage, Leonora Sophia, was born
at Celle, and the Electress Sophia and the Duchess of Celle stood as
her godmothers. One of her descendants is Mr. N. Bond, to whom I am
indebted for this information.
-----
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“[HANOVER,] _Monday, July_ 17/27.
“I went to dinner yesterday at La Platen’s; she showed me a letter
from the Electoral Prince, which was very kind, very long, and rather
familiar. I hope this news will not give you ground for jealousy, and
I hope, too, the fact that Monsieur de la Sitardie is at the point of
death will not make you too sad. The young Countess Platen[207] is
very ill, so all the house is in grief. They say the Prince will come
back loaded with laurels, so it seems there has been something to do
over there after all.... I did all I could to induce Prince Max to go
to Celle, but he declared that he had business here which prevented
him. I rage about it.... There is no news here about the Danes, which
makes me hope I shall not march for some time. I shall certainly go
through Celle if we march towards the Elbe, but I mean to have a
private audience of you, so prepare yourself for it. It seems to me
that going to the comedy every day means that you are enjoying
yourself. I do not grudge you pleasure; on the contrary, I am glad,
provided the gallants do not come into your box and whisper sweet
things in your ear, as I hear certain people do at the comedy. I am
delighted you should enjoy yourself, and will try to do the same,—that
is why I have asked our ministers to supper. La Platen will not be one
of us because of her daughter’s illness. I fear none of them will be
so amusing or witty as your company, but I can live without amusement
and you cannot.”
-----
Footnote 207:
Countess Platen’s daughter, Charlotte Sophia, who afterwards became
Madame Kilmansegge and accompanied George I. to England, where she was
created Countess of Darlington.
-----
_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[CELLE,] _Wednesday, July_ 19/29.
“At last I have your answer, the one I have been waiting for
impatiently to determine my movements; but I am none the wiser. All I
can make out is that you do not want me to come for a few days. At any
other time I should have been very angry, but now I am as indifferent
as you. You seem to be very phlegmatic about all I do, and I assure
you I am equally so as regards yourself. I am rather glad to be in
this mood, for otherwise I should have been hurt about the _fête_ you
gave last night to La Platen and other ladies. Stubenfol gave a full
account of it at the dinner table. ‘Everybody was delighted. No party
could have gone off better; everything showed forethought and
gallantry.’ I am not surprised you surpassed yourself, the ladies were
well worth the trouble, and when a host is inspired by such charming
guests he must needs succeed to perfection. It is easy for me to
follow your advice. I feel quite content to stay here as long as it
pleases you. Many thanks for all the news you tell me. I am not
jealous of La Platen because she has had a letter from the Prince. I
am delighted to see so fine a union. I also send no end of good wishes
for the continuation of your pleasures; I should be quite distressed
to interrupt them by my presence. I don’t know how you expect me to
reconcile the eagerness you pretend to show concerning my movements
with the indifference you display by your conduct. If you had even a
little consideration for me you would not behave as you do. Continual
pleasure-parties take place. But I am wrong to complain or to find
fault with _your_ behaviour; it is _my_ conduct, forsooth, that is
open to criticism! I go, you say, every day to the comedy; the
gallants whisper in my ear; they caress me in the box! Is it to fill
up your paper that you tell such falsehoods? There is not a word of
truth in them. Since I have been here they have played a comedy only
twice, and each time I have been in my father’s box alone with him. I
am always considering your wishes: I am ashamed of it, for I carry
consideration much further than you deserve. But I have said enough on
the subject; it is so unpleasant that I am very glad to end it.
“You wish me, I believe, to tell you about my affairs. Yesterday I
read over my marriage contract; it could hardly be more
disadvantageous to me. The Prince is absolutely master of everything,
for there is nothing I can dispose of without his consent. Even the
clause about my dower is so badly worded that they can easily cheat me
and take it away.[208] I was very much surprised at this unexpected
blow, and so hurt that tears started to my eyes. My mother was moved,
and tried to comfort me; nothing could be more tender or kind than
what she said to me. She even went so far as to offer to sell her
jewels so as to settle on me some sort of an income. At last we
decided it would be better to speak to my father first, as perhaps he
would be able to put the matter right. My mother did so this morning,
and his answer was favourable. I hope I shall get what I want. My
mother advised me to talk to Stubenfol, and ask him to push the thing
also, to show him my marriage contract, and point out how unjust it is
to me; so that without any one being able to guess my plans, I have
the finest pretext ever known.”
-----
Footnote 208:
A fragment of this letter relating to the Princess’s marriage
settlement is quoted (in the original French) by Palmblad in his
_Aurora Königsmarck_, and Dr. Köcher has seized on it as an inaccuracy
which goes to prove that the letters are not genuine. Yet it is
substantially correct. The Duke of Celle was undoubtedly beguiled into
a marriage contract most unfavourable to his daughter. He gave her a
marriage portion of one hundred thousand thalers and the estates
already settled on her. The hundred thousand thalers promptly went
into the Hanoverian coffers (there was no Married Woman’s Property Act
in those days). The estates were not disposed of so easily. If no son
were born, these estates, particularly the lordship of Wilhelmsburg,
were to remain the Princess’s; and should the Prince die before his
consort, this property and all its revenues were to revert to his
widow, and her children could only inherit them after her death, and,
as a widow, the Princess was to be entitled to a dower of twelve
thousand thalers. But the Princess had a son, Prince George Augustus,
and so these estates were locked up; she could not realise them or
raise money on them in any way. She was not likely to become a widow
(however devoutly she might hope for that consummation), and so she
was penniless, with nothing of her own save the allowance the Elector
of Hanover thought fit to dole out to her for her dress and petty
expenses. Her father, of course, might subsidise her occasionally, but
that was merely a matter of his good-will. Hence her efforts to obtain
a sufficient sum to enable her to set up a separate establishment and
be independent. In this, as in other things, the evidence is all in
favour of the absolute genuineness of these letters.
-----
“[CELLE,] _Thursday_.
“I am even angrier to-day than I was yesterday. The more I think of
what you have done the more I find cause for annoyance. You have
reason to be thankful for having delayed my return, for had I arrived
piqued as I am you would surely have had a piece of my mind. I don’t
know why I revert so often to the same grievance, but, though I wish
to speak to you on other subjects, I unconsciously fall back on this
one. The cause is not hard to find. Your unkindness cuts me to the
heart, and, though I ought to get used to it, I cannot help being
sensitive. Here are three unkind things all at once, which one surely
should not expect from a man who prides himself on his delicacy and
values his love so highly. You will remember you went to a feast at La
Platen’s two hours after I left Hanover for Luisburg, in spite of the
overwhelming grief in which you left me and the sorrow you pretended
to show. You had enough self-control to hide your sadness so well at
the feast that no one perceived it. The second party, which you say
was so innocent, and which I am willing to believe was so, since you
wish it, took place a week ago; and your most magnificent and
brilliant entertainment the day before yesterday. Here are three
parties in a very short time to my knowledge, not counting those I
shall never know about, which, being secret, are doubtless all the
sweeter to you. I am beginning to get used to your unkindness, and so
far from spending the night weeping and wailing, as I was weak enough
to do at Luisburg, I sleep very well, and wake up fortified and
angrier than ever. I am quite convinced that this is a matter of
indifference to you either way, because if you had ever so little
regard for me you would have behaved very differently. But I am
certain you do not love as I do, and renounce all pleasure; you are
incapable of so strong a passion. Do not restrain yourself, I entreat
you. Think only of your pleasures; count me as nothing. No doubt all
these revelries will terminate in a complete reconciliation between
you and La Platen, or some fresh intrigue. If only my wishes are
needed to contribute to your happiness, you can have them: there is no
joy I do not wish you. It so happens that Fortune, to give me revenge,
has sent hither to-day a young baron from Mayence. He is very
handsome, well built, and magnificent. You are no doubt willing that,
rather than die of _ennui_, I should amuse myself with him! I believe
you to be still too much my friend to refuse me that little comfort.
You see, I am franker than you, for though you sent me word of your
_fête_ you said nothing about the ladies and La Platen coming to it;
yet the whole thing was got up for her! Of a truth, I am well repaid
for living like a nun and shunning every one, even men of sixty, _mais
n’importe_. I will say no more! You ought to be ashamed of yourself to
act as you do. I will not reproach you; you ought to reproach
yourself. But it shows, alas! there is very little love proof against
absence. Unfortunately for me, my love does not lessen, and I am too
tender and sensitive. Teach me how to learn the secret of
indifference. I must end this. In spite of all my resolutions, it
might escape me that I love you, and I would rather die than tell you
so to-day.”
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“_Wednesday, July_ 19/29.
“My banquet, as you call it, was a very dull affair, though La Platen
came with her husband. The young countess is still very ill. Madame
Bussche’s coach-horses took fright and bolted, and the ladies were so
unnerved by the accident that they scarcely spoke two words, added to
which it was very bad weather, for fine rain set in and a great wind
arose which made us break up very early: they all went home before
eleven o’clock. I did not sit at the centre table, as there was no
room; I supped with Harrenburg and a lieutenant of my regiment, and
was delighted to have a pretext to escape from my guests. I was a very
convenient host; they will not boast much about my attentiveness. But
how could I be attentive when I was so _distrait_ and my heart far
away with you? I vow I thought more of you than of all my guests put
together. My reason for giving the supper was because I am going away
soon, and it was the right thing for me to do. I have been so often to
their dinners that it was necessary for me to make some return. Do not
think I did it to court any one, or with any thought of intrigue. I
vow, on my perdition, it was not so. I have told you the true reason;
there was none other, I swear to you. Don’t draw unjust comparisons.
As a man, I am compelled to do many things which as a woman you need
not do. Some one has been telling me I have become so odd that it is
no use seeking my company. I said: ‘When good fortune forsakes a man,
what would you have him do? I get no promotion and I am losing all my
possessions.’ He answered: ‘What about love?’ I replied: ‘I no longer
think of it’. But God forgive me, it was the greatest untruth I have
ever told in my life.”
_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[CELLE,] _Friday, July_ 21/31.
“Since you tell me your party was dull and tedious, and everybody went
home early, I am fain to believe you; though Stubenfol said nobody
ever was so merry a host as you, and the party did not break up until
after midnight. I can quite believe you found the time so short: the
company was too pleasant to admit of weariness. You must give me leave
to doubt that you thought more about me than of any one present. I am
not vain enough to flatter myself so much. I count myself happy if you
think of me in your spare time (should you have any), for everyone is
talking about your entertainments and continual parties, at which you
shine so brilliantly. I rather think you spoke the truth when you said
you ‘no longer thought of love’.
“But I must speak of something else. I want to forget all about that
affair: my thoughts kill me. I should have been willing to defer my
return to Hanover for a few days had your _fête_ not taken place just
then to distress me, for the very moment you ask me to stay here you
plunge into deeper pleasures there. What can I think of your conduct?
Must it not convince me that you did not want me, so that you might
better amuse yourself, and you feared my presence would be a
hindrance? You ask me to comfort you, but it is from you I expect
comfort. I certainly have no pretext for staying at Hanover only three
or four days; I shall very likely be there for twelve or fifteen days
at least, so take precautions accordingly. I think you will know your
movements before the end of next week, and when you are certain, let
me know positively what you wish me to do. I shall not think of
leaving here until you let me know.”
_Königsmarck to the Princess._
“HANOVER, _Friday, July_ 21/31.
“I have received your very charming letter. Your ‘handsome and
well-made man’ and Monsieur le Huguenot more than convince me that you
find your stay at Celle very pleasant. All I have to say is this—if
you are not pleased with me, I am even less pleased with you, and if
this sort of thing goes on I will no longer be your dupe. I am quite
able to find answers to all your accusations, but I will shorten my
letter for fear of keeping you from a pleasant conversation or a walk.
I am, Madame, with much respect, all yours.”
“_Sunday_, _July_ 23/_August_ 2.
“At last I am in a fit state to answer you about your baron from
Mayence. I have taken a few hours to settle my bile, and I am now cool
enough to write and tell you the vengeance you propose to take is too
small, even if I have sinned as much as you think; but my oaths,
attested by Gohr and d’Els, whom I can call as witnesses, must surely
convince you that Stubenfol lied. Don’t you think you have been a
little quick to take your revenge? I must needs send my witnesses,
since you will not believe my word of honour. In any case, I will
never forgive your tricks with the baron. Your natural tendency shows
itself again. You are only too glad to seize any pretext for flirting;
you would rather die than miss the chance. What am I to think of you?
You know my weakness: I am naturally jealous, and such behaviour as
yours makes me a hundred times worse. How many times have you urged me
not to give way to violence, but first to hear your excuses and the
truth? If you were piqued about my supper, why didn’t you write and
scold me as much as you liked? But no! you were too charmed with the
baron; he is young, well made, handsome, and captivates you,—that is
why you find, or pretend to find, my conduct so guilty. Oh! it is too
much! I can no longer deceive myself. Your letter of Friday confirms
my worst fears. Your excuses for not coming here do not deceive me.
You are the most unfaithful of women. Go to, cruel one! and flirt with
your new cavalier. Why have you held me so long with your deceitful
airs and promises? Why have I sacrificed everything for you? You are
not content to take away my peace of mind, but you rob me of my
honour, my reputation, and all I have in the world. Is it not for such
as you that I have neglected everything? You know the state of my
affairs. I am well rewarded, truly! I will fly from Hanover, where I
might meet you. Did not my house force me to stay here, I would leave
to-morrow. I hope, however, to find an honourable pretext for getting
away; and should the Danes confiscate my lands in Holstein, that will
serve. Madame, I am not dishonest, like you. I will send you back
everything I have belonging to you, and as soon as I get to Hamburg I
will take counsel with my friends as to my future plans. I will return
to my own people, and though I may have neglected them the future
shall make amends. ‘The continual ceremonies in which I shine’ are
with my dragoons; I am with them every day, drilling them, and for
three days I have not been anywhere except to the hunt, in which I
take part every day. Have I not always given you the choice of coming
here or staying at Celle? I did it on purpose to see if you had
sufficient love to risk coming; but I soon saw something was keeping
you back, though I was ignorant of its being a ‘handsome, well-built
young baron’. You now ask me to tell you positively what you are to
do. Why the devil should you want _me_ to give you directions? Were I
to tell you to stay and amuse yourself with your new lover, or were I
to tell you to come here, it would not matter—you would find some
excuse for quarrelling with me in either case.”
“_Saturday_, _July_ 24/_August_ 3.
“My letter of yesterday has no doubt surprised you. When I read it
over I said to myself: ‘Is it possible I could come to such a pass as
to write such a letter to the woman who is dearer to me than all the
world?’ I was ashamed to send it, but after reading your letter three
times I determined to send mine on to you. Looking at things in the
right light, I ought to be more manly; I ought not to be so sensitive.
I am much obliged to Stubenfol for spreading such monstrous reports
about my banquet. You know the man he is—‘Much ado about nothing’. I
don’t wonder he found my banquet a fine one, for he ate six partridges
all by himself, and drank a whole barrel of sherry. It was the finest
and grandest festival he ever attended—was it? Give him the same thing
in a pig-sty and he will exaggerate it into having been served in the
finest flower garden of Italy.... I was coming to the baron presently,
but, for fear I should lose my temper, I will try to go to sleep
instead: it is two o’clock. If I went on much longer I should write
things I should be sorry to say to a lady.”
_The Princess to Königsmarck._
“[CELLE, undated.]
“I expected to receive an infinity of excuses from you, and the most
beautiful things ever written, to appease me. I was much deceived, for
I found your letter quite the contrary: you are still too proud to beg
my pardon. I could not help laughing to see how you fell into my trap,
and how my ‘baron’ sticks in your throat. Your anger gives me so much
joy that I have quite forgotten mine. I am delighted to have revenged
myself singly, and I like myself all the better for it. I hope you
will be free from anxiety before you receive this letter, for I have
sent you the portrait of the personage, and that suffices. But the
idea of your giving yourself such airs! I am the injured one, yet you
scold me! That is rather an odd way to seek reconciliation. How tired
I am of being angry—otherwise you would not be let off so easily. But
I have a weakness for you which will not suffer me to quarrel with you
for long. I should be delighted to make it up with you: you have only
to make my mind easy about your banquet, and swear you love me as much
as ever. I will forget and forgive everything, and make you see in
return that you are very wrong to be dissatisfied with me, for I
deserve all your love, and do everything to please you. When you have
realised the injustice you do me by your mad imaginings, you will ask
my pardon, and deeply repent of your bad and wicked thoughts. I fear
our first interview will be spent wholly in explanations, and the love
and tenderness which alone ought to be present will be conspicuous by
their absence; but you will have it so—it is not my fault.
“I am coming to you on Tuesday or Wednesday. I have already sent you
word by Stubenfol, and I hope to find you tender and faithful. If you
be not I shall die, for I am fain to confess that I love you to
distraction: in spite of all my anger and annoyance, I have never
loved you more.
“I forgot to speak about what you told me a few days ago—that you had
made a vow to keep the sixth[209] commandment if we should ever live
together. There are no vows I would not joyfully make to be with you
always, too: I wish for nothing else in the world; all my thoughts are
bent upon it.”
-----
Footnote 209:
The seventh in our liturgy.
-----