The Princess of Celle: (Georgian Series) (12 page)

‘I think you’re right, as you invariably are. If there was more money, if they were a little older …’

‘It is a matter to be considered then?’

‘Most certainly.’

As they were discussing the possibilities this might open up for their sons, a messenger came to tell them that Schütz, Duke George William’s ambassador, had arrived at Osnabrück.

Ernest Augustus had rarely seen Sophia so angry as she was when Schütz stated his case.

‘My lord Chancellor,’ she said, ‘I am sure my husband the Duke will willingly show you the documents which your master has signed, in which he swears never to marry.’

‘I know of the existence of such documents, Madam, but my master is asking your indulgence.’

Ernest Augustus put in: ‘But there is no releasing him from his vows. If I did so he would still have to face his conscience.’

‘My master has satisfied his conscience, my lord Duke. His great concern is for your help in this matter.’

Sophia nodded at her husband who said: ‘What you ask is quite impossible.’

‘We are surprised, Herr Schütz,’ added Sophia, ‘that you should have allowed yourself to be the carrier of such a request.’

‘Madam, I follow my duty which is best to serve my master.’

‘By advising him to break his vows!’

‘All he asks is that his marriage may be recognized as legal and his daughter legitimized.’

‘All he asks is to break his solemn vow,’ cried Sophia. ‘And my husband and I are agreed on this: the answer is no.’

Schütz returned to Celle to report that it was useless to hope for any help from Osnabrück because both Duke Ernest Augustus and Duchess Sophia had made up their minds to do everything to stop the marriage.

‘Well,’ said Eléonore, ‘at least we know what to expect. As a matter of fact, I very quickly learned that Sophia was an enemy. She never forgave you for passing her over to Ernest Augustus and me for winning the affection you could not give to her.’

‘So,’ sighed George William, ‘it is useless to fight.’

‘There I cannot agree,’ said Eléonore. ‘This is where the fight begins.’

‘But if Ernest Augustus will not release me …’

‘We shall go higher than Ernest Augustus.’

‘You mean?’

‘The Emperor.’

‘Eléonore!’

‘Why not? What harm can it do? I am sure he will be sympathetic if I state the case precisely. In any case, it is what I intend to do.’

‘My dearest, you are a very determined woman.’

‘I have to be. I have my daughter’s future to think of.’

To the surprise of George William, Eléonore received a reply to her letter from the Emperor Leopold.

He understood, he said, and he sympathized; and what she asked was by no means impossible. He was, however, very busily engaged. He was faced with wars which had to be his main pre-occupation. He had to fight the Turks and the King of France – to whom he knew Eléonore, although a Frenchwoman, had no reason to be grateful. He was sure that Eléonore’s husband would be as glad to help him as he would be to help Eléonore if he had the opportunity. Firstly of course he must settle his pressing affairs. He was in need of men and
arms. If the Duke of Celle could help him, he could rest assured that he would do everything in his power to repay such a service.

When Eléonore read the letter she gasped with surprise. To write to the Emperor had been the defiant gesture of a desperate woman and she had never dared hope for such a reply.

Well, here it was. George William must first send men to help the Emperor – and then his reward should be considered.

She ran to George William who read the letter in amazement.

Then he looked at Eléonore, his eyes shining with pride.

‘You are a wonderful woman,’ he said.

‘And you will do this?’

‘My dearest, the Emperor can make a bargain with you; rest assured that I shall do everything … just everything in my power … that you ask of me. Leopold shall have his troops.’

This was the first step, thought Eléonore. She was certain that she would take the rest unfalteringly to victory.

Sophia from Osnabrück declared open warfare, no longer pretending to be Eléonore’s friend.

She blamed Ernest Augustus for not striking an even harder bargain when he had had the chance. He should have robbed George William not only of his right to marry and some of his estates but all of them.

For the dismal truth had to be faced that George William was much richer than they were and although he kept his Frenchified court he had not a nursery full of children with their necessarily expensive household to keep up.

All they had was their idolized petted Sophia Dorothea.

‘She must be a spoiled brat!’ fumed Sophia. ‘And if Eléonore has no more children she will be a very rich one when she inherits all they have.’

And not content with making her the richest of heiresses Eléonore was trying to bestow legitimacy on her as well. No wonder Anton Ulrich was licking his lips. She dareswore he was cursing the fact that the pretty little thing was not of an age to be snapped up right away.

Sophia wrote to her niece, Elizabeth Charlotte, who having
married Louis XIV’s brother was now the Duchess of Orléans. She had known Eléonore when she was at the Court of France and being of a malicious and mischievous nature she was delighted to write to Sophia about her, inventing scandal, which seemed to be what her aunt wanted.

These letters passed frequently between them and Eléonore was the subject of them. They gave vent to their hatred by referring to her as ‘that piece of flesh’, ‘that clot of dirt’, and remarking how scandalous it was that she should be trying to make a position for herself in the court of a German prince – even though a minor one.

‘You had better tell me all you know of this woman,’ Sophia wrote, ‘for can you guess what she is trying to do? She is trying to make her marriage to my foolish brother-in-law legal so that little bastard of hers can have a title and make a brilliant marriage. We owe it to our house, to our blood, to prevent this.’

Elizabeth Charlotte, not finding sufficient scandal on which to feed her salacious and ever greedy mind, was not averse to inventing it. What had been her duties in the household of the Princesse de Tarente, did Sophia think? What was the Princesse de Tarente doing in Breda? Anyone who lived in her house automatically cast aside their reputations. Did Sophia know that? Elizabeth Charlotte could tell stories of a certain page at the court of Louis XIV. Eléonore had done everything she knew – and that was a great deal – to marry him; she had failed of course and now was doubtless glad since she had succeeded in making a fool of the Duke of Celle. And in the household of the Princesse de Tarente – what had been the relationship between the Princess’s husband and that clot of dirt?

With delight Sophia read these letters to Ernest Augustus who did not believe them.

‘Whether you believe them or not we must do our best to make others do so.’

‘Do you think you will? You only have to look at her to know that she is quite incapable of such acts … not only for virtue’s sake but for that of her dignity, which is very great.’

‘Well, we shall see.’

When the rumours reached Celle Eléonore knew whence they came. Still she was distressed and, to show his utmost belief in her, George William decided to buy more estates which, because they were outside his inherited territory, he would be at liberty to leave where he wished. These he would leave to Eléonore. But even before he could make the purchase it was necessary to get the consent of Ernest Augustus to make the transaction.

George William was sad to see the change in his brother. When he called to tell him of his wishes, he reminded him of the old days when they had wandered about Europe together.

‘Why, brother,’ he said, ‘then you would have done anything in the world for me.’

‘Then,’ replied Ernest Augustus, ‘we hadn’t a care in the world. And if I have changed, then so have you. You used to be adventurous, ready for anything … now you have been a quiet old married man.’

‘Well, I have responsibilities.’

‘And so, brother, have I.’

‘I did not think you would ever be so hard.’

‘I did not think you would ever be so sedate.’

‘It but shows what circumstances will do to us. Now this matter of Wilhemsburg …’

‘You propose to buy the island so that you can leave it to Madam von Harburg.’

‘That is my idea.’

‘It is a very rich and fertile island.’

‘That is why I wish to acquire it.’

‘If this deal goes through I should need a little … commission. I am making a great concession in agreeing to the purchase … and I have a big family to keep, George William.’

George William sighed.

Yes. Ernest Augustus had certainly changed.

Having acquired the island George William then set about making a pedigree for his Eléonore. He sent for a French genealogist and offered him a high price if he could prove that
Eléonore was descended from the Kings of France. This was expertly done and made public.

When Sophia saw it she burst into loud laughter and immediately sent a copy to the Duchess of Orléans, who saw that the matter became a great joke at the French Court. The Duchess thereupon set about drawing up a genealogical tree for her cook to prove, she said, that she had descended from Charles the Bold. Eléonore realized that she and George William had been rather foolish over this matter, but the rift between the Osnabrück and Celle courts was wider than ever.

Eléonore and Sophia ceased to meet unless it was absolutely necessary, and then their demeanour towards each other was glacial.

Time passed after Sophia Dorothea’s informal betrothal to Anton Ulrich’s son, but Eléonore did not waver.

Eventually she was going to win the Emperor’s consent to legitimizing her marriage and the birth of her daughter.

To make sure of this George William himself took a troop of his men to fight under the Emperor when it was made clear that this was the wish of Leopold.

Eléonore endured the loneliness without him; even this, she thought, is worthwhile for the sake of Sophia Dorothea.

The Adventuress

IN THE COACH
which was trundling along the road to Osnabrück sat two young women and a man who was clearly their father. The elder of the girls was about twenty-three years old, the younger sixteen. They were handsome, and the elder in particular had an air of alertness; her large eyes were watchful as now and then she glanced out of the window at the passing countryside.

‘You will find this a change after Paris,’ said her father.

‘Doubtless,’ answered the elder.

‘I loved Paris,’ said the younger.

‘But Paris, my dear Marie,’ her sister caustically reminded her, ‘did not love you.’

‘How I should have loved to have been at court! I don’t think there could be another place this side of Heaven to compare with it. You thought so too, Clara. Admit it.’

‘Heaven for me would be where I was treated as an angel.’

‘And you were told rather plainly that you weren’t wanted. I’m surprised, Clara, that you did not stay and fight.’

‘My silly little Marie, do you think I wouldn’t if we had had a chance. Papa had it from Montespan’s agents themselves that we had better get out or it would be the worse for us.’

Their father sighed. ‘It was no use going against them,’ he agreed. ‘I had hoped to get you both settled in France. I saw a brilliant future for you … but it did not come about.’

‘And quite rightly,’ said Clara, who obviously ruled the family. ‘We should never have been allowed to go near the King. French etiquette is the most rigorous in the world. It will be different in Osnabrück.’

‘Clara’s right,’ agreed Count Carl Philip von Meisenburg. ‘Heaven knows what they would have trumped up against us. Men and women can be quickly eliminated in France. A
lettre de cachet
… and a man is whisked away and never heard of again. I saw that we had to get out … and quickly.’

‘And all because,’ added Clara, ‘you have two beautiful daughters!’

‘Beautiful girls are not such a rarity at the Court of France, my dear. I happened to have a daughter who was both beautiful and clever. That would be regarded as a threat … and was.’

‘Well, to hell with Paris. To hell with the Roi Soleil. We’ll try our luck in Osnabrück.’

‘Osnabrück!’ sighed Marie. ‘Who has ever heard of Osnabrück.’

‘We shall see that people hear of it,’ Clara reminded her.

‘Oh, Clara, I really believe you will.’

‘You must always listen to your sister, Marie,’ said their father. ‘She will know what is best to be done.’

‘I was rather attracted by Osnabrück when I heard about the Prince Bishop,’ admitted Clara.

‘Ernest Augustus – Prince Bishop of Osnabrück,’ murmured Count Carl Philip.

‘A man,’ went on Clara, ‘who seeks to set himself up as a Grand Monarque.’

‘He hates the French,’ put in the Count. ‘His great enemy is Louis. And yet …’

‘And yet,’ finished Clara, ‘he would be like Louis in every way. I heard he tries to make a miniature Versailles at Osnabrück, that he keeps his mistresses and tries to deceive himself that they are as glorious as Madame de Montespan. I am sure he
will be interested in two young ladies recently come from Paris … wearing the latest Paris clothes, looking like court ladies … and ladies of Louis’ Court at that … clever, beautiful, shining with French gloss.’

Count Carl Philip slapped his thigh.

‘You’ll do well for yourself, daughter. You’ll settle the family’s fortunes, I’ll vow.’

‘His wife is ageing; she has borne many children; and although she has her own way in some matters she is tolerant about others. One need not fear her.’

‘The Duchess Sophia accepts the fact that men – rulers that is – must have their mistresses.’

‘She is a wise wife. I long to make the acquaintance of Ernest Augustus.’

Clara lay back against the upholstery of the coach and closed her eyes.

She was excited. The thought of adventure always stimulated her. It had been disconcerting – more than that, humiliating – to be turned out of Paris as they had been; and yet in a way it was flattering. Why had they been ordered to leave? Because those sycophants who surrounded the King of France had been afraid of them, afraid that she, Clara Elizabeth von Meisenburg, might attract the King’s attention and acquire too much influence over him. Beautiful women attracted the King’s attention, but it was those who possessed brains as well as beauty who were feared.