Noble Blood - The Princess Imprisoned in her Celle

Episode Date: June 14, 2022

Sophia Dorothea of Celle was forced to marry a cousin she loathed. Stuck alone in restrictive Hanoverian court, her one happiness was the affair she began with a dashing visiting Count. But royal affairs almost always lead to tragedy, and though her husband's position in the courts of Europe would continue to rise, Sophia Dorothea would suffer only tragedy. Support Noble Blood: — Bonus episodes and scripts on Patreon — Merch! — Order Dana's book, Anatomy: A Love StorySee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an I-heart podcast. Guaranteed Human. Readers, Katie's finalists, publicists. We have an incredible new episode this week for you guys. We have our girl Hillary Duff in here, and we can't wait for you to hear this episode. They put on Lizzie McGuire at 2 a.m. Video on Demand.

This guy's bobo-bubim. 2 a whatever time it is. Lizzie McGuire. And I'm like, the paper view. It was like a first closet moment from me where I was like, I don't feel like she's hot, like the rest of that. No, no, no. I was like, she's beautiful.

But I'm appreciating her. in a different way than these boys are. I'm not like, but listen to Los Coleristas on the Iheart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or whatever you get your podcast. Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of IHeart Radio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Manky. Listener discretion advised.

Hi, this is Dana. Thank you so much for listening to Noble Blood. Just a quick personal note. If you want to support the show, you can subscribe on Patreon, buy some merch, or buy a copy of my book, Anatomy a Love Story, which is a novel about 19th century historical surgery. All of those have links in the bio.

But of course, as always, the best possible support is just that you listen to the show. So thank you so much. And a brief warning before we begin, this episode contains some domestic violence. So if that's specifically triggering to you, you might want to skip this episode. 17th century princesses had childhood that, as this podcast has shown, have veered at best, lonely, at worst, tragic. But Sophia Dorothea of Sel had a remarkably idyllic childhood. As an only child, Sophia Dorothea was doted on by her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Brunswick Lunberg, who, unusually for the time, had married for love.

Little Sophia Dorothea wanted for nothing. Her parents' wealth and affection for her meant that she simply had to ask for something and she would receive it. She was a happy, vivacious child who inherited her mother's shining brown eyes and glossy dark hair. From the windows of her bedroom in her family's castle, Sophia Dorothea could look out at the lime trees surrounding the moat, or she could trace her fingers over the carved key. cupids that supported her mantelpiece. Life was sunny for Sophia Dorothea. But she was a 17th century princess, and like any other 17th century princess, Sophia Dorothea's life was not her own. No matter the love that her parents had for her, they had larger political and familial obligations. And so when an

Opportunity presented itself in the form of a strategic betrothal, an opportunity for a year's-long feud to be ended, for the family line to be strengthened, her parents took the opportunity, even though the price was their beloved daughter's happiness. And like many other political engagements, it would lead to great sorrow, and not just sorrow, but scandal. The marriage of Sophia Dorothea and her husband, George Louis, would be marked by betrayals, punishment, and finally murder. Forty years after their marriage, the two spouses would find themselves in vastly different positions. One would sit on the throne of England, while the other would die alone after decades of imprisonment.

I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is Noble Blood. The series of strange events that would eventually lead to the unhappy engagement of Sophia Dorothea to her cousin George Louis actually began with the death of a man named Frederick, Duke of Brunswick Lundberg, in 1648, nearly 20 years before Sophia Dorothea was even born. Now for your brief European history geography lesson. At that time, the Duchy of Brunswick-Lunberg consisted of two principalities, situated in the north of what is now Germany. Throughout the course of the 17th and then early 18th centuries,

these principalities would be known by a number of different names, but to keep things simple, I'll refer to them as Hanover and Sel, as they were commonly known around the end of the 17th century, after their capital cities. When Frederick died, he had ruled Cell. the wealthier of the two principalities. Dying childless, he bequeathed the title to his nephew, Christian Ludwig, who was already ruling the principality of Hanover.

Christian Ludwig was happy to take the promotion of ruling cell, and so he passed Hanover to his younger brother, Georg Wilhelm. Georg Wilhelm is Sophia Dorothea's father, but we'll get to that later. The responsibilities of ruling and the monotony of court life chafed against Georg Wilhelm's fun-loving, adventurous spirit. He left Hanover as often as possible, traveling around Europe and spending time in Italy and France with his younger brother, Ernst August. His court was not amused, and they wished that their dilettante prince would

settle down and maybe barren air or two. Eventually, Hanoverian court officials threatened to cut back Georg Wilhelm's allowance if he did not marry. They even suggested a suitable bride, Princess Sophia of the Palatine. I know there are a ton of Georges and Georgians and Sophia's in this episode. This isn't our Sophia Dorothea yet. We're still on backstory, but it is important, I promise. 28-year-old Princess Sophia of the Palatine came from a noble and well-connected family. She was a granddaughter of King James of England. But her family's fortunes had suffered during the 30-year's war, and a number of matches for Sophia had fallen through before Geyorg Wilhelm's offer came through. She eagerly accepted, but Geyorg himself was having doubts. He had no wish to be tied down to a woman

he didn't love, nor to be tied down to a court he found boring and provincial. Returning to Venice for one last pre-wedding trip in 1658, he thought over his situation, and he arrived at an unorthodox solution. He would get his younger brother, the penniless Ernst August, to be his substitute. After all, one brother could provide an heir just as well as another. As a younger brother, Ernst August was all too happy to take the deal. The brothers drew up a deed, in exchange for financial compensation, Ernst August would take over Georg Wilhelm's princely duties, and he would marry Sophia in his stead. Georg Wilhelm additionally swore that he would never marry, meaning that he would never have legitimate children who could inherit his estates or titles. All of that would instead go to Ernst

August and Sophia's family. Sophia was given no input on the decision, but when the newer arrangement was presented to her, she agreed, no doubt hiding her resentment at being traded like an object for the sake of her future children's inheritance. It would not be the last time that she would have to make such sacrifices. But with this little problem settled, Georg Wilhelm was free to return to his beloved role of 17th century international playboy. Sophia and Ernst August, conversely, lived a simpler life, welcoming their first child, George Louis, in 1660. The couple was actually well-matched. Both were highly ambitious, cultured, and intelligent, and they quickly began to work together to secure a more prestigious position for their young family

than the somewhat modest principality of Hanover. As a note, I know there are many Georges and Gayorgs in this story. For the sake of clarity, I'll refer to Georg Wilhelm, Sophia Dorothea's father, by his German name. For Sophia and Ernst August's young son, who was technically born Georg Ludwig, I'll use his English name, by which he's most well known today, George Louis. Some time in the 1660s, man about town, Georg Wilhelm, met a beautiful French noblewoman named Eleanor Dolbrew. Eleanor's Protestant family had recently been expelled from France during the prosecution of the Huguenots, and they were now reliant on the generosity of their wealthy noble friends abroad. It was in the home of one of those wealthy friends

that Georg Wilhelm and Eleanor first met. For Georg Wilhelm, it was love at first sight. Eleanor, aware that a good marriage was her only chance to regain financial and social security, refused to become his mistress, even though she romantically fell for the prince as well. But because of the whole no-marriage, no-legitimate children agreements that Georg Wilhelm had signed with his younger brother, he legally couldn't marry her. Eleanor was reluctant to accept anything less than marriage, but she did love Gay-Or. Wilhelm, and she hoped to create a happy life with him. In the fall of 1665, the couple returned to settle in cell, which Gaeor Wilhelm had inherited that spring, and the two signed a document

pledging their fidelity to one another, a marriage in spirit, but not in the eyes of the law. Thus, when the couple's first child, Sophia Dorothea, was born on September 15, 1666, she was technically illegitimate, the child of unwed parents. But her parents were determined to ensure that her status didn't dictate the course of her life. From the moment of her birth, they demanded that she be treated as heiress of cell, even if technically she wasn't. Gaeor Wilhelm and Eleanor adored their daughter, who would be their only child. They also began the lengthy, politically delicate process of trying to legitimize her. They began with a campaign to the Holy Roman Emperor, Leopold I, sending letters to him full of praise and providing troops for his various campaigns whenever he needed them.

And lo and behold, it worked. Leopold became increasingly friendly with the couple, even referring to Eleanor by the title Duchess. Over in Hanover, younger brother, Ernst August and his wife, Sophia, were a little worried by these developments. Sell was an enormously wealthy principality, and the Hanover's worried that, should Sophia Dorothea become legitimate, she would inherit Sel and then possibly claim and win control over their territory. They grew even more concerned as Georg Wilhelm

began buying up property and gifting it to his, quote-unquote, wife and daughter, giving them status and wealth in their own right. Ernst August, always money-minded, was mad that his brother had begun to channel wealth away from him. He was supposed to be his older brother's heir. That was the whole point of marrying in his stead. Sophia, the wife that Ernst August had married in his stead, though a sharply intelligent and cultured woman, was a stickler for etiquette, and she found it insulting that the unmarried mother of her niece,

of nobody, a woman that she regularly referred to as a clot of dirt, could possibly be gaining power and prestige that Sophia herself, granddaughter of a king, felt she truly deserved. It was the beginning of a long period of tension between the two couples, a tension that grew alongside the fortune and status of little Sophia Dorothea. In July 1674, when Sophia Dorothea was eight, the emperor officially legitimized her and granted both her and her mother the title of Countess of Harburg and Wilhelmsburg. Following further machinations, Sophia Dorothea was made a princess and the formal heir of Sel. The Hanovers, realizing the danger that their legacy was in, hurried to renegotiate the contract that the two brothers had signed in 1658. This new contract,

allowed for the marriage of Georg Wilhelm and Eleanor and for the rights of inheritance of Sophia Dorothea, though it denied those rights to any future children who might be born to Georg Wilhelm and Eleanor, a compromise granted for Ernest August and Sophia. The negotiations over this new document had been contentious, and by the time all was resolved in the summer of 1676, the two couples were barely speaking to one another. Things continued that way until 1682. Sophia Dorothea grew up in the loving, carefree home created by her adoring parents, indulged in all ways, a free-spirited, outgoing young woman. Her parents pursued an alliance with another branch of the Brunswick family, the Brunswick Wolfenbuttles, while Ernst August and Sophia schemed to regain the inheritance they felt they had lost,

installing spies in the court at Sel. It was one of these spies in September of 1682 who delivered the devastating news to the Hanover's. Sophia Dorothea was to be betrothed to August Wilhelm, the heir to Brunswick Wolfenbuddle. An alliance between those two families would spell certain doom for the Hanover's ambitions. It would push them completely to the side. The combined wealth and political power of the new young couple would mean they would occupy the prominent place in German society that Ernst August and Sophia felt should be theirs. They had to do something. And what could be a more royal solution than a strategic betrothal to their own child? George Louis. George Louis, the Hanover's eldest son, was only six years older than Sophia Dorothea and still.

single, following a bungled attempt at wooing the English princess Anne. If George Louis and Sophia Dorothea married, Ernst August and Sophia could secure their family line and all the resources of sell. There was the problem of status, of course. Sophia had spent nearly 20 years disparaging Eleanor and Sophia Dorothea as commoners, but she swallowed her pride and traveled to sell to sell Georg Wilhelm on the plan. Georg Wilhelm had never been too happy with the proposed engagement to August of Brunswick-Wulfen-Buddle, and he had grown increasingly tired of the animosity between his wife and sister-in-law. He hated being estranged from his brother,

and so it didn't take much on Sophia's part to convince him that this engagement was what was best for their families. Eleanor, however, was another story. She pleaded with Georg Wilhelm not to sacrifice their precious daughter to the snobbish court of the Hanover's, not to bind their beloved child to a young prince who was said to be awkward and obtuse. But Georg Wilhelm, who had rejected the Hanover court himself, and then spent a lifetime defying the duties bestowed on him by noble birth, finally felt that he must bend to obligation, and he insisted. Resigned, Eleanor went to Sophia Dorothea's room to break the news to her daughter. Sophia Dorothea did not take it well. She was accustomed to a level of control in her life. Now, in one swift move, her independence had been taken from her in the worst way imaginable. Through betrothal to a cousin she had been

raised to revile. She was inconsolable, sobbing on her bed as Eleanor held her. When her father entered, he nervously presented her with a birthday present from her estranged aunt. It was a miniature of George Louis, framed in jewels. Sophia Dorothea threw the portrait against the wall, sending diamonds flying. At her birthday banquet that evening, she hid her tear-stained face as the engagement was formally announced. As Cordiers congratulated her, she kept her eyes downcast and did all that she could to hold sobs at bay. Spending time with her future husband did not reassure her.

The two hardly could have been more different. Sophia Dorothea was vivacious, sharp-tongued, pampered, and affectionate. She was a skilled dancer and sparkling conversationalist, prone to flight to fancy. George Louis preferred the battlefield to the ballroom. He was a courageous soldier with a practical mind, but a somewhat unimaginative man deeply concerned with propriety and duty. As the boy's mother, Sophia herself put it,

somewhat hyperbolicly, that her niece would find in George Louis, quote, the most pig-headed, stubborn boy who ever lived, who has round his brains such a thick crust that I defy any man or woman ever to discover what is in them. Nothing like motherly love. Not only was the marriage not a love match, it also stripped Sophia Dorothea of everything her parents had given her over her young life. George Louis would receive $100,000 a year for her dowry, an enormous son, as well as

all of Sophia Dorothea's estates. Sophia Dorothea would receive an allowance, but it would be controlled by her husband and future in-laws. She would have nothing to call her own. But there was nothing she could do. And so, Sophia Dorothea and George Louis were married at the chapel at the Castle of Selve on November 21, 1682. It was a gloomy, chill morning, and when, racked the castle. castle walls. It was an inauspicious beginning to the marriage, and things would only get worse. The early days of Sophia Dorothea and George Louis' marriage were the best days. Sophia Dorothea quickly charmed the people of Hanover with her personality and beauty,

and even her haughty mother-in-law began to feel more kindly about her. The court of Hanover was modeled after Versailles. Buildings and courtiers alike dripped with diamonds. Bowls lasted until the wee hours, and women dressed in the latest most fashionable styles. Sophia Dorothea, with her love for fashion and her natural exuberance, shone. But like the real Versailles, it was also a highly regimented environment, steeped in protocol, and Sophia Dorothea raised in the much more casual environment at cell frequently stumbled over the seemingly meaningless rules of court etiquette, prompting mockery behind her back. But the greatest struggles in these early days were loneliness and boredom. Each day followed the same routine, morning spent in bed writing letters or in the garden,

taking a walk, dress for lunch, a very formal affair, a nap, a visit with other ladies of the court, dress for supper, eat, then play cards or perhaps dance, and retire to bed, day after day after day. At most hours, the vibrant young princess, trapped by the rituals of court, could be found cloistered in her apartments, with only one true friend by her side, the one lady-in-waiting who had accompanied her from cell. On October 30, 1683, 17-year-old Sophia. Dorothea gave birth to a son, George Augustus. The family was overjoyed. Their line was secure. Sophia Dorothea, too, was delighted. She adored her baby, and his birth meant that she had fulfilled her wifely duties. Slowly, she began to gain some freedom. Finally, she was allowed to travel to sell.

She began spending more time with her own beloved parents. Her in-laws softened even further toward her, as did George Louis. Their son gave them for once a common interest and something to talk about. But their connection would not have time to develop. George Louis was keen to continue his military success and win a claim for Hanover, and so he spent most of 1684 and 1685 on military campaigns. When he returned to Hanover, the couple bickered frequently. George Louis admonished his wife for being disrespectful of the court's customs, while Sophia Dorothea accused her husband of being a priggish stick in the mud. She felt neglected, he felt herringed. The argument worsened, became louder and more public. But the couple still managed to conceive another child, a daughter they named Sophia Dorothea,

who was born in March 1687. Sorry again for the confusing name repetition. The older mother, Sophia Dorothea, adored her children, finding them an escape from the dramatic intrigues of the court that bored her so much. Throughout his marriage, George Louis had had affairs, but never anything particularly serious. But that changed when he met Melasine von der Schluenberg, the woman he would spend the rest of his life with, however unofficially. Though Sophia Dorothea didn't love her husband, she was devastated by how public the affair was. George Louis began to take Melisine to dinner as his companion, where she would show off the luxurious dresses and radiant jewels

that her lover had gifted her. Humiliated, Sophia Dorothea wrote letters to her parents about the situation. Her mother was sympathetic. Her father was less so, writing that she must simply accept her lot with a brave face. The young princess, now only 24, felt more alone than ever. And that's when she met Count Philip von Konigsmark. Or rather, she re-met him.

Konigsmark, a dapper, dashing Swedish nobleman, had, in fact, come into her life once before when he had gone to settle as a pre-teen to receive military training. The two had actually been friends then, and years later, seeing him at a festival in Hanover, Sophia Dorothea was delighted to reminisce about the happy days of their childhood. But that reunion was brief and relatively uneventful, and they did not see much of one another for the next year,

as Konigsmark tried to establish himself at court, and while Sophia Dorothea tried to repair her marriage. In those two missions, Konigsmark was more successful than she was. While Konigsmark dazzled the nobility with stories of his travels, Sophia Dorothea's attempts to win back George Louis just seemed to drive the two further apart. The married couple would sometimes not see each other for weeks. He practically lived with his mistress, Melasine.

In 1688, George and Sophia Dorothea had a vicious argument. It's alleged that George Louis was physically abusive towards her. The situation was so bad that even Sophia, who had never been Sophia, his champion, intervened on her daughter-in-law's behalf, taking her and her children to their family's country residence to restore her spirits, while reprimanding her own son, George Louis, so forcefully that he reluctantly began to spend more time with his wife. It was then that Konigsmark re-entered Sophia Dorothea's life. He had been in and out of Hanover over the past year, but he had decided to purchase a large estate nearby and settle for a time in the region.

His wealth and charisma had won him acclaim, and he had quickly been accepted into the highest echelons of Hanoverian society. Some of his closest friends were Sophia Dorothea's brothers-in-law, the young princes, and it was through them that Koenig's mark came back into the presence of the princess. They were only friends, at first, brought together by their inherent similarity. In Koenig's mark, Sophia Dorothea found the opposite of her stayed husband. She discovered a man who matched her in liveliness, humor, and impulsivity. The two shared a love for life and a disregard for rules that made their time together exhilarating, but also dangerous.

Once they ran into one another in the palace gardens, where Sophia Dorothea was playing with her daughter. The little girl was tired. and refused to climb the steps back up to their apartment. Instead of having a servant carry her daughter, Sophia Dorothea picked up her own daughter and began to walk up the stairs. It sounds normal, but in a court as etiquette obsessed as Hanover, this was a grave impropriety. Surely a princess should not be carrying a child as a servant might.

But things only escalated when Konigsmark teased her about the weight of her burden, and he took the tired child into his own arms, delivering her to the top of the stairs. For Sophia Dorothea and Konigsmark, the act was natural as, well, a mother caring for her child. But for court observers who watched the couple laugh at the entrance to the royal apartments, it was the first sign that something was not quite right. And though their reasoning in this instance might have been jumping the gun a little, Their larger point was correct. By the end of 1691,

Konigsmark and Sophia Dorothea were engaged in a full-fledged affair. Miraculously, a number of letters between the two have survived, letters that were sent to relatives for safekeeping. So now, 300 years later, we can witness their love firsthand. Koenigsmark sealed his letters with a wax stamp, bearing the image of a small heart, inside of a larger one. And the motto, quote,

so is yours within mine. The two wrote in French using codes and nicknames, hastily scrawling passionate letters to one another whenever they had a moment alone. Koenig's Mark's letters read like the template for romance novel speeches. Quote,

I shall embrace tonight the loveliest of women. I shall kiss her charming mouth. I shall worship her eyes. those eyes that enslave me. I shall hear from her very lips that she loves me. I shall have the joy of embracing her knees. My tears will chase down her incomparable cheeks. I will hold in my arms the most beautiful body in the world. Verily, madame, I shall die of joy. Sophia Dorothea's letters back are no more restrained. Quote, if you but knew how intense is my love, she wrote, you would pity me. It increases every moment.

Absence does not lessen it. Without change or swerving, I love you, and everything that touches you so tenderly, so perfectly, so delicately, that imagination fails to tell. Their letters were full of such declarations, alternating with harsh reproaches if they felt the other had gone too long without writing, or had flirted with another. All of that was sprinkled in with observations about daily life.

But mostly they wrote of each other, the devotion they had to one another, the pain they felt in the other's absence, the burning desire with which they yearn to be together. For the next two years, they wrote frequently, as Konigsmark fought for Hanover abroad and Sophia Dorothea traveled between Hanover and Sel. The two saw each other whenever they could. Unlike George Louis' affair with Melisine, they were not public about it. they knew they had to operate in secrecy, that the consequences of discovery might be harsh. But they didn't know just how deadly those consequences would be. If Ernst August and Sophia, the ever-proper in-laws, had been paying closer attention to matters of the court,

they might have seen earlier what was going on between the Swedish count and the princess. But they were occupied with enormous political developments, ones which would dramatically raise the Hanoverian profile. For years, the couple had been campaigning for their family to become members of the Electoral College of the Holy Roman Empire. The Electoral College, made up of Prince Electors, were in charge of electing the new emperor of the Holy Roman Empire upon the death of the old one. It was an extraordinarily powerful and exclusive group, and Ernst August and Sophia yearned to join. In 1692, their wish came true. Emperor Leopold I made Hanover an elector in thanks for Ernst August's

assistance during the nine years' war. From that point on, Ernst August would be known as the Elector of Hanover. Sophia would be the Electress, George Louis, the Electoral Prince, and Sophia Dorothea was the electoral princess. The family was overjoyed, and the entire court celebrated. Sophia Dorothea was happy to, but she was also aware of the eyes of the empire turning toward Hanover. It was a new level of public scrutiny that didn't sit well with a princess with something to hide. At least two people within the royal circle were aware of the princess's affair by autumn of 1692. Sophia Dorothea's mother, Eleanor, had caught on quickly and frequently tried to persuade her daughter to end the relationship, knowing that it could only spell ruin.

But more ominously, the couple had also caught the attention of Countess Clara von Platten, Ernst August's longtime mistress. Von Platton, a proud, striking woman who ruled over a hedonistic circle of Hanoverian nobles, was alleged to have once had an affair with Konig's mark herself. news of the princess's affair slowly began to make its rounds at court, and the royal family felt compelled to try to put an end to it. Ernst August made it known to Konigsmark that his military service might be better appreciated in another state, and then he sent him back to the battlefield.

Conigsmark's sister Aurora, who had sometimes helped facilitate messages between the couple, was told, politely but firmly, that she ought to stay away from Hanover for the time being. Konigsmark and Sophia Dorothea were heartbroken at being forced apart. If grief could kill, Sophia Dorothea wrote Konigsmark in early October, I should surely be dead. Convinced that his maybe ex-lover von Platten was behind Ernest August's interference, which she very possibly was,

Conig's market wrote furious screeds against the countess, like this one from mid-October. Quote, If I were Lord of Creation, I would offer a sacrifice of her and give her to the bears to eat. The lions should suck her devil's blood. The tigers tear her cowardly heart out. I would spend day and night seeking new torment

to punish her for her black infamy in separating a man who loves to distraction from the object of his love. As 1693 dawned, the couple increasingly began to feel threats on all sides. And yet, despite the warnings they received from friend and foe alike, they would not, seemingly could not, break things off. Even as they were sent far from one another, even as they were closely watched, they carried on, even arranging a brief trist in June at Brockhausen,

the country house of Sophia Dorothea's parents. By July, Sophia Dorothea had come to a decision. She could no longer bear to be without her love. She could no longer pretend to be a dutiful princess, could no longer stomach the sideways glances of courtiers and the heavy-handed advice from her family. She had to get away, to run away, and she would take Koenig's mark with her.

She began to petition her father, the Duke of Sel, for an allowance independent of that which the Hanover's gave her. In many ways, this was only fair. All of her money and property had been taken away from her as part of her marriage settlement. Unfortunately, though, her father's finances were tight at the moment. Hanover and Sel were on the precipice of war with Denmark and Sweden, and the price of raising troops had left Georg Wilhelm with little to give his daughter. Konig's Mark II was struggling, though he came.

came from an enormously wealthy family. He had lost much of his personal wealth to gambling, and the king of Sweden was threatening to confiscate his estates because of the military service he was doing in Hanover, an enemy state. The lovebirds were increasingly determined to run off together, but without the money to do so, they were stuck. And all around them, the whispers were growing louder. Events reached a boiling point in May of 6,000.

1984, mainly due to Konigsmark's reckless behavior. In April, a longtime friend became elector of Saxony. The elector owed Konigsmark a debt, and now, as an elector, he could afford to pay it. Konigsmark traveled to Saxony. His friend didn't have the money on hand, but gave him a post in the military and bid him to stay a while and celebrate his coronation. Konigsmark was happy to. As the historian, H. Wilkins' rights, quote, While the princess was eating her heart out in the palace at Hanover, weeping and wailing, quarreling with her husband, importuning her parents, moving heaven and earth to advance her pet scheme,

Konigsmark was reveling in the wanton halls of Saxony. Drunk and happy to be free from the pressures of Hanover, Konigsmark forgot himself, and he began to regale the Saxon court with his salacious Hanover. ovarian gossip. No one was spared. He spoke of Countess von Platten, the Elector and Electress, George Louis and Melisine, even Sophia Dorothea. He said to have openly bragged of the affair. Word of what Koenig's Mark had said quickly got back to Hanover, and the court was furious. George Louis, particularly incensed, burst into Sophia Dorothea's chambers and began to berate her

for her now very public affair. Sophia Dorothea retorted that George Louis had behaved just as flagrantly with his own mistress. The argument escalated until suddenly, furious, George Louis allegedly sprang at his wife, grabbing her by the throat and threatening to strangle her. Attendance quickly rushed in, and George Louis threw the half-conscious Sophia Dorothea to the ground,

swearing that he would never see her again. Once she recovered, Sophia Dorothea fled to Cell, announcing that she was seeking her parents' protection and that she would never, never return to Hanover. But when she arrived in Cell, she was met with a mixed reception. Eleanor was horrified and vowed to protect her daughter. Georg Wilhelm, concerned about what this could do with his relationship

with his brother in Hanover, was less sympathetic. but even he could not deny the pain his daughter was in, and so he allowed her to spend some months at cell. By June, he and the Hanover's hoped tempers had cooled enough for a reconciliation between the prince and princess, and Georg Wilhelm told his daughter that she had to return to her husband. She was devastated, and the two argued so grievously that they would not reconcile for the rest of their lives. By the time Sophia Dorothea returned to Hanover later that month, she was a shell of herself, wrung dry by the ordeals of the past few months, alienated from her parents and in-laws alike, and separated even from Konigsmarck, who was still in Saxony.

She had to leave, she thought, and she had to leave soon. Her only option, given her lack of resources, was to flee to the court of Wolfenbeudel, whose heir she had once been engaged to. Anthony Ulrich, the Duke of Wolfenbuttal, was happy to assist. He had long been a close friend of Eleanor's and saw in Sophia Dorothea's request for help a chance to both support his friend's daughter and also to strike at the Hanover's, long-time rivals. It was a dangerous plan. It would be seen as treason on Sophia Dorothea's part and might even lead to consequenters for her parents.

but her resolve was strengthened when Konigsmark returned from Saxony in late June to help make preparations to flee. On July 1st, Konigsmark snuck out from his house and made his way towards Leinschlos, the Hanover Castle, where he was set to meet the princess. He was in disguised, dressed in the shabby clothes of a laborer, and he kept to the shadows until he reached the palace. it's not known whether he ever made it to Sophia Dorothea's chambers. Unbeknownst to Koenig's mark, he had been followed. Spies, sent by Countess von Platten, had tracked him to Lineslaus before reporting back to her, and she quickly ran to Ernst August, telling him what was happening. Ernst August was furious.

He had warned the couple time and time again, welcomed Sophia Dorothea back into the fold over and over, even as the courts of Europe whispered about the cuckold at George Louis, and now, still, the couple was still brazenly meeting. Something had to be done. It's not clear exactly what happened in the hallways of Leinschlos on that balmy summer night. Whether the assailants who gathered there meant only to arrest Koenig's mark or to scare him, or whether they did, in fact, plan to kill him. And if so, on whose orders? But it is, In any case, the end result was the same. Koenigsmark was ambushed by the men.

A bloody fight ensued, and, at its end, Konigsmark lay dead. Whether it was planned or not, once Konigsmark was dead, the mechanisms of royal scandal suppression were quickly put into action. Sophia Dorothea was kept in her chambers. Her rooms and those of Konigsmark were searched,

and any evidence of their affair was quickly gathered up and brought to Ernst August and Sophia. Sophia Dorothea, still ignorant of Konigsmarx's fate, was sent to Alden Castle and Cell. Ernst August and Georg Wilhelm met to privately confer.

Both felt deeply betrayed and humiliated by the princess's actions and by the contents of the letters that were seized from her and Konigsmarx Chambers, which had revealed their plans to ally with Wolfenbuttal. The letters also made fun of the Hanover's and Georg Wilhelm. The Hanoverians decided that a divorce was the best course of action.

Sophia Dorothea quickly agreed. In part, it's alleged because she believed that Koenig's Mark was still alive and that the divorce would free her to marry him. The divorce was finalized in December of 1694. Outside of the personal considerations of the proud rule, royals, there were important political stakes to the affair. Though Leopold had declared Hanover an electorate in 1694, this position wouldn't be official until 1708. In the meantime, those who had opposed the state looked for anything they could use to discredit it. An embittered, estranged

princess was a good source of ammunition, so the families needed to keep her quiet. It was decided that Sophia Dorothea would be kept on house arrest at Alden with little to no contact with the outside world. We don't have letters from Sophia Dorothea from this period, so it's hard to know what exactly was going through her mind. But she most certainly was devastated. In one night, she had lost not only her beloved Konigsmark, but also her freedom. Sophia Dorothea spent the rest of her life imprisoned at Alden Castle in St. cell. She was kept comfortable by an allowance provided in equal parts by her former husband and her father, neither of whom she would ever see again. Her children, too, were kept away. Besides her small court of attendance, chosen for their loyalty to Hanover, her only visitor

was her beloved mother. Eleanor mounted a tireless but ultimately unsuccessful campaign to free her daughter. After Eleanor's death in 1722, Sophia Dorothea was deeply lonely, and she began to care less about those things that had kept her happy even in her darkest days. Her pride in her appearance melted away. Her love for fine clothes and extravagant hairstyles faded, and she grew reclusive and unhealthy. In early 1726, she had a stroke, and though in ill health, from that point on, she refused all care. She died November 13th, 1726, at the age of 60, and she was buried at night with no ceremony in a small grave near her parents in cell. As for George Louis, fate had a very different path for him. In 1701, the British Parliament

passed the Act of Settlement, which declared that no Roman Catholic could inherit the throne of England. The same act named the closest Protestant successor to the throne as Sophia, Electress of Hanover, granddaughter of King James I of England. Sophia, however, had died shortly before the British Queen Anne in the summer of 1714, meaning that the next King of England would be her oldest son, George Louis. Despite speaking little English, George became the King of England on a August 1st, 1714, King George I. Sophia Dorothea's son would become King George the second. Though George Louis could have remarried, he didn't, though he did maintain a relationship with Melasine

von Schoenberg for the rest of his life. The divorce was a forbidden subject in his presence. It was long supposed that George himself was responsible for Conigsmart's death. and for Sophia Dorothea's imprisonment, but that's not really correct. He most definitely was not involved in Koenig's Mark's death, having been absent from Hanover at the time. And as for Sophia Dorothea, though his behavior to her was certainly cold and occasionally absolutely reprehensible, he was, in fact, not actually involved in the initial decision to keep her prisoner.

And he even advocated for fewer restrictions, on her movements during the later years. That didn't keep the English people from composing body songs and poems about their foreign king, his mistress, and his imprisoned ex-wife. Those taunts would haunt George for his entire reign. When Sophia Dorothea died in 1726, George forbade mourning in the courts of England and Hanover. George spent nearly a fifth of his 13-year reign as King of England. back in Hanover, which served as his royal retreat. It was on a visit there in June 1727 that he

suffered a stroke, dying on the 11th of June in Lane Schloss. The exact same castle where 13 years earlier, Koenigsmark had been killed. The castle where Sophia Dorothea's life, as she had known it, had also ended. That's the tragic life of Sophia Dorothea, But keep listening after a brief sponsor break to hear how archaeology maybe or maybe didn't solve one of the mysteries of the story. Readers, Katie's finalists, publicists. We have an incredible new episode this week for you guys. We have our girl Hillary Duff in here, and we can't wait for you to hear this episode. They put on Lizzie McGuire 2 a.m. Video on Demand, this guy's bobo-oo-o-bub-a-m.

To A-Mu-Mu-A-Muhrer. And I'm like, wild, a wild batch you were with. It was like a first closet moment from me where I was like, You're like, I don't feel like she's hot, like the rest of them. No, no, no. I was like, she's beautiful. But I'm appreciating her in a different way than these boys are. I'm not like, ugh.

But listen to Los Angeles on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or whatever you get your podcast. Readers, Katie's finalist, publicists. We have an incredible new episode this week for you guys. We have our girl, Hillary Duff in here, and we can't wait for you to hear this episode. They put on Lizzie McGuire 2 a.m. Video on Demand. This guy's boo-o-o-a-m. 2 a.m., but whatever time. It is Lizzie McGuire and I'm like...

A wild batch you were with. It was like a first like closet moment from me where I was like... You're like, I don't feel like she's hot, like the rest of that. No, no, no. I was like, she's beautiful. But I'm appreciating her in a different way than these boys are. I'm not like... But listen to Los Angeles on the Iheart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or whatever you get your podcast.

In August 2016, workers on a construction project at Lane Schloss, now the seat of state government for the state of lower Saxon, made a startling discovery on castle grounds, a buried jumble of human bones. Analysis by researchers at Hanover's medical school determined that the bones were likely hundreds of years old. Human bones? Buried under the palace? Hundreds of years old? To many, it added up to one conclusion. Surely, these were the remains of Count Philip von Konigsmarck. Historical sources had always been shaky on what exactly happened to Koenigmark's body after his death. Some say his body was thrown in the Line River, others that his body was covered in Quiklime and buried underneath the palace.

But with this new discovery, it was hoped that the mystery could finally be solved. Unfortunately, it was not to be. Further research eventually revealed that the bones came from at least five human skeletons, as well as some animals, and they were not, after all, the right age to be those of Konig's mark. So the mystery continues. The final resting place of Sophia Dorothea's lover is lost to time, just as he was lost to her on that fateful July evening more than 300 years ago. Noble Blood is a production of IHeart Radio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Manky. Noble Blood is hosted by me, Dana Schwartz.

Additional writing and researching done by Hannah Johnston, Hannah Zwick, Mira Hayward, Courtney Sender, and Lori Goodman. The show is produced by Rima Il Kiali, with supervising producer Josh Thane, and executive producers Aaron Manky, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from IHeartRadio, visit the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. readers, Katie's finalists, publicists. We have an incredible new episode

this week for you guys. We have our girl Hillary Duff in here and we can't wait for you to hear this episode. They put on Lizzie McGuire 2am, video on demand. This guy's... 2 a.m. Lissie McGuire.

And I'm like... A wild batch you were with. It was like a first like closet moment for me where I was like... You're like, I don't feel like she's hot like the rest of that. No, no. I was like, she's beautiful.

But I'm appreciating her in a different way than these boys are. I'm not like... But listen to Las Coltr. us on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or whatever you get your podcast. This is an IHeart podcast, guaranteed human.