The Princess of Celle: (Georgian Series) (37 page)

So he tried to settle down; he said goodbye to his brother and he went daily to Foubert’s Academy where he became the most promising pupil; and sometimes by day he would roam those colourful streets and now and then make the acquaintance of some girl.

‘Don’t you forget your brother’s wishes,’ Hanson reminded him. ‘It’s a soldier you’ve got to become first – and then there’s Oxford and you’re at a disadvantage being a foreigner.’

But during those months in London Philip did not believe there were any disadvantages he could not overcome.

Hanson came into the lodging one day where Philip sat over his books and it was obvious that the man was excited.

‘Such news!’ he cried. ‘It’s a blessing the Count’s not here or he’d go round cutting someone’s throat.’

‘What is it?’ demanded Philip excitedly.

‘Well, there is a fellow named Thomas Thynne at court. Thomas Thynne of Longleat. Tom of Ten Thousand, he’s called, because he has ten thousand pounds a year and he’s one of the richest men at court and one of the stupidest, they say. He’s a friend of the Duke of Monmouth – the King’s own son, wrong side of the blanket, but none the less proud for all that – and set to make trouble, they say.’

‘Well what of this man Thynne?’

‘He has just married. Very quiet it was but it seems her mother arranged it. There were too many after her money so she wanted to make sure that a man with plenty of his own got her.’

‘It’s not … Lady Ogle!’

‘You’ve guessed right first time.’

Philip was aghast. ‘But she was for my brother.’

‘Not now, sir. She’s the wife of Tom of Ten Thousand.’

‘My brother will be angry. He was determined to have her.’

‘Then he shouldn’t have gone away and left the field clear.’

‘Do you think he knows of this?’

‘’Tis hardly likely – he being where he is.’

‘Perhaps I should tell him.’

‘You should keep out of trouble, young sir. What’s done is done and they’re married now. All the dashing Counts in the world can’t alter that.’

Philip was thoughtful. It was the first time he had known his brother could fail. Later he heard rumours of how the young bride, who was fifteen years old, had gone to The Hague in the company of Lady Temple so that the marriage might not be consummated, the girl still being considered too young, in addition to which she protested that she hated the husband to whom they had married her. Philip guessed why she hated him; it was because she had wanted to marry his brother. What a pity Carl John had not stayed in England to abduct her and prevent this marriage.

From time to time he heard news of the marriage. Thomas Thynne was claiming his wife’s property and demanding that she be returned to him.

Philip lost interest because his brother was no longer concerned; he had had a letter from Carl John to tell him that he was now staying for a while in France and might soon be with him. He devoted himself to his studies with great fervour hoping to surprise his brother by his progress on his return.

But he never had an opportunity to do so for Carl John had other matters than his brother’s education on his mind. The first indication Philip had of this was when Captain Vratz, one of his brother’s men, called at his lodgings.

Philip leaped at the man and cried: ‘My brother! Where is my brother?’

‘Still in France, young sir. But I’ll swear it won’t be long before he is in London.’

‘Then I rejoice. I want to show him what advances I have made. I am going to ask him to forget all about the university and let me go straight to the army.’

Captain Vratz said: ‘Your brother is concerned in a matter of great importance to him.’

‘What matter!’ Philip was eager. His brother only had to hint at returning and life was exciting again.

‘The Count is most disturbed as to the ill-treatment of a certain young lady living at The Hague, and I have come over here to challenge a fellow known as Tom of Ten Thousand to a duel. Once the challenge is accepted your brother will come to England to kill the fellow.’

‘He has said this, Vratz?’

‘It is his intention.

‘Is it a secret?’

‘All London will soon be talking of it.’

‘I wish my brother were not going to fight a duel. What if he should be killed?’

‘The Count! Never. It is this Thynne man who will die. Then it will be for the Count to console the widow and she will be very ready to be consoled by such a handsome gentleman.’

‘Still … it is dangerous.’

‘Don’t you fret, young gentleman. Your brother has come through worse danger than this, I can assure you.’

Philip tried not to. But it was difficult when one was outside an adventure not to fret. If he were partaking in it he would know only the excitement; as it was he kept wondering what would happen if his brother were killed. And if he killed Thomas Thynne, would that be called murder? It seemed to him that whatever the outcome, there was cause for anxiety.

Vratz returned to his lodgings to tell him he was leaving for France. He was furious because Thynne had laughed in his face and declined the challenge; and the Captain had discovered that Thynne had sent six men to France to murder Count Königsmarck.

‘Go to him quickly,’ cried Philip. ‘Warn him.’

‘You can trust me. It won’t be the Count who’s murdered I can tell you that.’

A few days later, Philip was surprised and delighted by another visitor: his brother had returned to London.

‘In secret,’ Carl John told him, his eyes gleaming with a mingling of anger, excitement and love of adventure.

‘What are you going to do?’ Philip begged to know.

‘You’ll see,’ his brother promised him.

He did. On the following Sunday, in the murk of a February evening Thomas Thynne’s coach was stopped when he was riding in Pall Mall by Vratz, but it was one of Count Königsmarck’s two servants – one Pole, one Swede – who fired the blunderbuss which killed Thomas Thynne.

The hue and cry went up through London and early next morning Philip heard the excitement in the streets, and leaned out of his window to call to a passer-by to tell him the news.

‘Tom of Ten Thousand’s been murdered, sir. And they say it’s all along of his having married a wife.’

Philip was alarmed. If Thomas Thynne had been murdered, his brother was involved. He stayed in his rooms waiting for Mr. Hanson, not daring to go out.

Where was Carl John? He had not come to his brother’s lodging last night, nor had he sent any message.

Mr. Hanson at last came breathlessly running up the stairs – but not to stay.

‘I thought I should warn you,’ he said. ‘Your brother’s two servants, Stern and Boroski, have been arrested with Captain Vratz and they have admitted to the murder they committed on the orders of your brother.’

‘And my brother?’

‘I heard he was on his way to the Continent. Whether he has reached there I don’t know. I shan’t stay. There is nothing I can do … and they’ll be coming here to ask you questions at any minute.’

Hanson left him and he was alone, bewildered and afraid. His brother’s servants prisoners! His brother in flight! What was happening to Carl John and what would they do to him if they caught him? And what could his young brother do alone in a foreign country?

Those were anxious days. Carl John, attempting to leave England, had been captured at Gravesend and was now waiting to face a charge of murder. Strange men came to Philip’s lodgings to question him. What did he know of this affair? Had his
brother confided in him? To all these questions he gave discreet answers; and when he was in difficulties feigned an imperfect knowledge of the language. Fearful as he was of his brother’s safety, he could congratulate himself that he had done nothing to endanger it. Hanson was summoned to appear at the trial; and there he spoke so cleverly in Count Königsmarck’s defence that it was said he had an influence on the trial. Of the murder he knew nothing; all he knew was that Count Carl John had entrusted him with the care of his young brother’s education, for he wanted him to be brought up a good Protestant and he felt he could become this better in England than anywhere else; he wanted him to have the best military education and he believed that this could be acquired more thoroughly in England; he wanted his brother to be educated at that seat of learning, Oxford, which he believed to be the best in the world. Such admissions although they had little to do with the murder of Thomas Thynne showed Count Königsmarck to the English as a highly discerning man.

Philip went to the Old Bailey to hear the trial; he was even called upon to give evidence which he did in a firm voice, implying that it was quite impossible for his brother to be involved in such a case. He was aware of Carl John’s approval coming across the court to him. But he was frightened by the solemnity about him, by the sight of his brother – the bold adventurer standing side by side with his servants who had betrayed him.

Going back to his lodgings through those crowded streets Philip heard the name Königsmarck on many tongues.

‘Of course Königsmarck’s the real villain. Those others were only his tools.’

‘He should hang by his neck. These foreigners …’

Those merry streets became very sinister for Philip during those days.

And then … the verdict. Vratz, Stern and Boroski guilty and condemned to be hanged in chains. Königsmarck acquitted.

There was murmuring in the streets. All the men were foreigners and therefore little concern of the English, but one of them, the leader, Königsmarck, had murdered an Englishman, and the English wanted retribution.

‘Hang Königsmarck!’ cried the people in the streets.

And Philip, making his way to his lodgings, trembled for his brother.

Life could not go on in the same way after such an episode. For one thing, Carl John had to leave England before outraged public opinion caused the law to take some action against him or the mob decided to take the law into its own hands. He left for Sweden, but Philip did not go with him. Carl John really had believed that his brother could acquire in England the education which would be of most use to him, so he wished his young brother to stay on under the care of Mr. Hanson.

For a few weeks Philip studied miserably in his lodgings; but he was a Königsmarck and the people of London did not like one who bore such a name. ‘Brother to the murderer!’ they declared. ‘The murderer who got off scot free while his servants paid for his crimes.’ London was not a healthy place for a Königsmarck, and Mr. Hanson made Carl John aware of this. In a short time Philip heard that he was to travel to Sweden in the care of his tutor.

They left England on a blustery March day and after a hazardous journey reached Gothenburg.

It was pleasant to see Carl John again but it was a very restive and frustrated brother whom Philip found. He hated to be defeated, he admitted; and the English adventure had been a humiliating one. For a little while Carl John looked after his estates and taught Philip to help him; but Philip was well aware that such a state of affairs could not last. He was right. A month or so after Philip’s return, Carl John announced his intention to join Uncle Otho William and immediately plunged into preparations. Very soon, Philip was alone, dreaming of the time when he would be able to join his brother.

Carl John sent word that he did not expect his brother to remain in Sweden. Although England was barred to him, other courts were not. The most glittering court in the world was at Versailles; Carl John did not see why his young brother should
not visit France; there, he was convinced that he could learn more graceful manners than he could in England.

So to Versailles went Philip, and after a pleasant stay there, he travelled to other European countries, always awaiting that call to join his brother.

He would never forget the day the long-awaited news of Carl John came to him. But it was not a call to join him; and he knew then that there would never be one. Carl John was dead – not gloriously, as one would have expected him to die, in battle, in the midst of some reckless adventure – but of pleurisy, brought on through exposure during a battle.

Philip was the new Count Königsmarck.

He grieved for his brother bitterly; but eventually he began to understand that he was rich, accomplished, handsome, and that because of these assets he would be welcomed in almost every court in Europe.

He travelled; he indulged in many a love affair; he had become as romantic a figure as the brother whom he had always tried to copy. He was the darling of his sisters; he had stepped into Carl John’s place at the head of the family. He became witty and gay and when he arrived at Saxony, the Prince Frederick Augustus became his friend and invited him to stay at his court as long as he cared to, for, Frederick Augustus told him, he would always be welcome there.

News came to Saxony of Hanover, and it was then that he heard gossip about the lecherous Ernest Augustus, the rapacious Clara von Platen, the boorish George Lewis and the sadly neglected but very beautiful Sophia Dorothea.

Sophia Dorothea! The dainty little girl he had known was it ten years ago? He had been enchanted with her, and she with him. And now, poor girl, it seemed she was being sadly treated by that uncouth husband of hers. No doubt she was in need of a little comfort. The Count Königsmarck was very capable of supplying comfort to ladies who did not find it in their married lives.

Sophia Dorothea, naturally, would be different from all the others. He knew that before he saw her again.

And when he did he was certain. On that night when he was
presented to her and she stood before him in all her dainty femininity, she was the beautiful lady in distress calling on her knight-errant to rescue her.

She could rely on him; he would not fail her.

The Temptation of Königsmarck

SOPHIA DOROTHEA HAD
dismissed all her attendants with the exception of Eléonore von Knesebeck. The excitement of the last weeks was now tinged with apprehension and she wanted to talk about it.

Eléonore von Knesebeck was sitting on her stool, her hands clasped about her knees, staring ecstatically before her.