QUEENS OF ENGLAND,

When the report of these conversions—if we may so call the cowardice that compelled myriads to take false oaths out of sheer desperation—was carried to the willingly-duped King of France, he raised his eyes to Heaven, amazed at the miracle, which he pronounced, in the presence of his fawning courtiers, more wonderful than many of those recounted in Scripture. But he knew as well as his bishops did, that "a man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still."

We have said that some of the Protestants escaped their persecutors; among the number of these lucky beings was Alexander D'Esmiers, Marquis D'Olbreuse, a gallant gentleman of Poictiers, who, with his daughter, Eleanora, sought refuge in Brussels. It was not long before this beautiful, accomplished French girl was introduced into the gay society of that gay city, where she was courted and admired by many of the beaux, and no doubt envied and criticized by the belles.

A.D. 1665. It was at a grand court ball that this young girl first became acquainted with Duke George William, second son of George, Duke of Brunswick-Lunebourg, and heir to the dukedom of Zell. The duke fell violently in love, for the first time in his life, though he had been a traveller for some years, and was noted for his gallantry among the ladies with whom he had flirted in various parts of the world. With the awakening of this sentiment, George William, who had been rather a taciturn man, became eloquent in his love-pleadings; he had never cared to study, but a sudden desire to perfect himself in the French language took hold of him, and he begged the beautiful Eleanora to assist him with the intricacies of her native tongue. She consented, and throughout the bright,

But of all the verbs in the language, the one which most interested this pair was aimer, "to love," and they learned to conjugate its various moods and tenses, which led, in their regular course, at last, to marriage. This took place in the autumn of 1665, when Eleanora was twenty-six years of age. Her title then became Lady Von Harburg, from an estate so called, belonging to the duke.

This union proved a most happy one; for, with mutual affection, confidence, and respect, the duke and his wife held their little court free from the intrigues and anxieties that ruffled the peace and happiness of most of the more important ones of their day. The only fault that her subjects ever found with the high-minded, estimable Lady Von Harburg was, that she surrounded herself with French attendants; but it is no wonder she preferred to do so, if we consider that she was always regarded by the jealous Germans as an intruder, even though she had united her interest with theirs by marrying one of their countrymen. So long as her husband approved of her choice of attendants, Eleanora heeded not the railings of the envious; but occupied her mind and time with wholesome, sensible pursuits.

Under all her trials, the mother proved herself a true woman, and so increased her husband's respect and esteem for her that he became anxious to have her title equal to his own; for, at the time of their marriage, there had been some complications that prevented. So he set to work to accomplish this, and after a vast amount of trouble, petitioning, delay and expense, at last succeeded. Then the Lady von Harburg became Countess von Wilhelmsburg and Duchess of Zell. This gratified the duke, though it did not enhance his wife's happiness, for she had been perfectly contented before, and craved no title more lofty than the one she had.

Nothing ever interfered with the care for her little daughter, who was tenderly and religiously trained; and unspoiled by the flattery that would have been showered upon her, had anybody suspected that she was one day to become Queen of England. When Sophia Dorothea was about seven years of age, she had for a playfellow, Philip von Kônigsmark, whose father was a warm personal friend to the duke. Philip was at Zell, at the time of which we speak, for purposes of education, and spent most of his leisure hours with the little girl in the garden of the palace. These two children became very fond of each other, and the gossips about the court shook their heads knowingly as they prophesied a future marriage, in an undertone. But they were false prophets, for a very different fate awaited the two guileless, happy children.

"Of all sad words of tongue or pen,

The saddest are these: 'It might have been.'"

A.D. 1676. Now we must leave Sophia Dorothea, and while she is developing into womanhood, tell about people who became closely connected with the vicissitudes of her life after she was deprived of a mother's care.

Ernest Augustus was almost as much under the influence of a woman as we have seen that Queen Anne was during the early part of her reign; but this one managed more adroitly than did the imperious, hot-headed Duchess of Marlborough, and so retained her position.

A.D. 1680. Catherine and Elizabeth von Meissengen were two bright, lively, ambitious sisters, who made their appearance at the Court of Hanover, where they excited a great deal of curiosity and interest. Both were handsome, and dressed so well that the German ladies accepted their pretty, tasteful costumes as models for their own, while the gentlemen flocked to the drawing-room of these sisters, who gave entertainments so delightful in their character as to attract young and old, men and women. Even the members of the royal family honored these witty, fascinating ladies with their visits, and so for a time they became the lionesses of Hanover.

A.D. 1681. Having secured these learned men for husbands was all very well so far as it went, but Elizabeth immediately began to plan and intrigue until she succeeded in getting her husband appointed prime minister to Ernest Augustus. That made her mistress of the situation, for though Von Platen was not weak-minded, his wife was strong, and not only ruled him but the sovereign besides. We have related so much about this woman, an intriguante of the deepest dye, because it was she who chiefly controlled the destiny of poor Sophia Dorothea.

The routine of the court of Zell continued with little variation from year to year, the monotony being broken only now and then by the arrival of some guest. One of these was Prince Augustus William von Wôlfenbuttel, brother of the soldier who had early courted little Sophia Dorothea, and who lost his life on the battle-field of Philipsburg.

A.D. 1682. Even then matters were by no means settled to the satisfaction of the lovers, for Madame von Platen had something to say on the subject. Several times had this female prime minister consulted with Ernest Augustus as to the most advisable manner of disposing of the hand of his son, George Louis, in marriage, providing the proper person could be found. In an evil hour for Sophia Dorothea, the worthy pair decided that greater importance would accrue to the electorate of Hanover by the acquisition of the broad acres of Zell. That was enough; for with Madame von Platen to desire was to have, and no obstacle could stand in the way of anything she had set her heart on. Sophia Dorothea was engaged certainly, but that made no difference; everything, hearts, hopes, happiness, must give way to political ambition. So a regular plot was laid to destroy the bond that existed between Augustus William and his lady-love.

Let us take a look at the young man who was to be substituted for the handsome, noble, brilliant, and fondly loved Augustus William of Wolfenbuttel. At the time of which

He was in England when the powers at Hanover decided to marry him to poor, innocent little Sophia Dorothea, and as ignorant of the plot as she was. On his way thither he had visited William of Orange, to whom he confided the object of his journey. This was to offer his hand and heart to Princess Anne, and it is easy to believe what is generally suspected: that William himself encouraged Madame Von Platen in the intrigues that recalled George Louis and brought about the marriage that caused so much misery. The reason why it is probable that William of Orange would endeavor to prevent a union between George Louis and Princess Anne is, that although his wife was heiress presumptive to the throne, in the event of her death, which, as we know, occurred before his, he would not have been permitted to govern alone had the House of Brunswick been so powerfully represented in England, and to avoid complications, he preferred to have George Louis safely married and settled out of the way.

Having made up his mind that an alliance with the House of Zell would be advantageous to that of Hanover, Ernest Augustus found no difficulty in persuading his brother to postpone the marriage of his daughter, Sophia Dorothea, with Augustus of Wôlfenbuttel on the score of her youth, as she was only fifteen years of age, he argued, and too young to become a wife. Anxious as he was to retain possession of his child for another year, the Duke of Zell was only too willing to listen to any argument that would accomplish that object, so he consented to a betrothal only, and postponed the marriage for a year. What reasoning he employed to make the young lovers agree to this arrangement, is not known; but Augustus went off evidently satisfied that the prize he was to get was worth waiting for, and with no suspicion that treachery would deprive him of his lady love.

She had heard rumors of an engagement with Augustus of Wôlfenbuttel; but that was a matter of small consideration in her eyes, and so long as no marriage had taken place, it was not too late for her son to supplant the favored lover. The great, heavy family coach was therefore ordered to be put in readiness for a journey of about thirty miles, which an ordinary railway train of to-day would make in an hour. But two centuries ago travelling was a more serious matter, and it took the duchess all night to reach the ducal palace of Zell.

The sleepy sentinel was astonished when the lady pushed past him, and, totally regardless of anything like ceremony, breathlessly requested the servants she met in the hall to conduct her at once to the duke. She was told that he was dressing, but would soon come down stairs to see her if she would have the goodness to wait in a' reception-room.

But the lady was too impatient to lose a moment, so mounted the stairs, and bade the groom of the bed-chamber to point out the door of the duke's dressing-room. Without going through the formality of an announcement, or making known her presence by a knock, the duchess unceremoniously pushed open the door, while the scarcely half-dressed duke gazed at the intruder in amazement.

The less she comprehended of the argument that the wife of Ernest Augustus was so impressively setting forth, the more did she endeavor to catch a word here and there; and when she heard the name of her daughter coupled with that of George Louis again and again, she began to understand as well as though the whole case had been put in her own native tongue.

The Duke of Zell was easily convinced, particularly as he had never favored his daughter's marriage with the brother of her dead lover; and the mother of George Louis eloquently set forth the advantages to be derived from a union between the heir of Hanover and the heiress of Zell, adding the possibility of Sophia Dorothea some day becoming Queen of England. The clever sister-in-law completely dazzled her listener with all the bright hopes she held out, and returned to Hanover after having obtained the Duke of Zell's solemn promise that he would break off his daughter's match with her lover, and bestow her hand upon George Louis.

It would be needless to follow all the arrangements and make-believe courtship that followed the visit of Duchess Sophia, and it would be too painful to recount the sufferings of the poor child of sixteen, who, with her heart filled with the image of the man she had promised to marry, was forced to give her hand to one of the least attractive creatures she had ever beheld.

But to return to the little bride. The parting from her mother was a sore trial to both, and one from which the latter never recovered, for she always appeared like a person bowed down beneath the weight of a great sorrow. As for the daughter, she went to Hanover, where for a time she was at least less unhappy than at any future period of her life. Her husband treated her shamefully from the first, but she did not love him enough to be wounded by his neglect, and she found solace in the regard shown her by her father-in-law, Ernest Augustus, who esteemed her very highly.

A.D. 1683. Another comfort that Sophia Dorothea had in course of time was a little boy, who was born on the thirtieth of October, 1683. He was named George Augustus, and many years later ascended the throne of England as George II. In 1684 a little daughter was added to the family. She was named for her mother, and like her brother ascended a throne, but it was as the wife of a King of Prussia.

A.D. 1684. She had contrived to win the good opinion of Ernest Augustus as well as his wife, both of whom regarded her as an ornament to their court. They treated her with a great deal of consideration, and no doubt sympathized with her because of the selfish, brutal behavior of their son towards her. But Ernest Augustus was so indiscreet as to praise her on several occasions, and that was more than Madame von Platen could stand. He even went so far as to consult her, and such a proceeding filled the soul of Madame, the prime minister, with hatred.