The three accomplices were hanged in chains. Count Carl John, though he saved his neck, ruined his reputation in England. The tide of feeling was strongly against him. The King plainly told him that he could do no more, and the coldness of the court, the hostility of the nobility, and the threats of the populace combined to make him quit England for ever. He repaired to the court of Versailles, where his recent experiences rather added to his reputation than otherwise. While there he had the audacity to renew his suit to Lady Ogle (or Elizabeth Thynne), now widowed for the second time, but she would have nothing more to do with him. She probably felt, and rightly, that to marry such a man would be to implicate herself in his crime. She went into mourning for her husband—or, rather, “did not appear public,” as the phrase went—for some six or seven weeks; she then returned to England, and married Charles Seymour, third Duke of Somerset, and added her colossal fortune to his. The marriage was on the whole a happy one, and she and the Duke were important and powerful personages at the court of Queen Anne. Count Carl John returned to his estates in Sweden, but he could not brook the quiet of country life, and soon plunged again into the dangerous delights of war. War in those days was a game at which emperors, kings, and military adventurers played for a pastime, the soldiers being the pawns in the game. Carl John was wounded at the siege of Cambray; he then followed his regiment to Spain, and distinguished himself at the siege of Verona. The last stage of his eventful career was when, in 1686, he went with his uncle, Otho William, to the Morea; he took part in divers sieges and battles, and so exerted himself that he brought on an attack of pleurisy, of which he died.[28] ----- Footnote 28: We have dwelt thus on the career of Count Carl John Königsmarck because Horace Walpole and other chroniclers have fallen into the error of confounding him with his younger brother, Philip Christopher; and Horace Walpole even goes so far as to describe Philip Christopher, in his _Reminiscences of the Court of George II._, as the murderer of Thynne, which he certainly was not. -----