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.’