Sohlman was already familiar with one specific folder that he himself had stamped ‘Legal and Confidential’ two years earlier. Within it, there were 216 letters Nobel had written to a Miss Sofie Hess. There were also forty letters from Sofie to Nobel, a single well-written telegram, a photogravure of the couple, as well as one affidavit assuring the Nobel estate that Sofie ‘had no further claims against the estate apart from the annual income designated to her’. Of note, some of Nobel’s letters to Sofie were addressed to ‘Dear, pretty child’, ‘Little Sweetheart’, ‘My dearest Sofiechen’, and even ‘Frau Sofie Nobel’.
The awkward details were as follows: In 1876, a forty-three-year-old Nobel had met the much younger Sofie – then representing herself as eighteen years oldfn15 – at a spa in a small Austrian resort. Sofie was working in a florist shop but aspired to advance beyond her lower-middle-class Viennese background. Nobel, enthralled by Sofie’s beauty, offered assistance. Assuming a role akin to an avuncular patron, Nobel installed his protégée in a small but comfortable Paris apartment. Sofie was then provided with a substantial allowance intended to further her education. Although Sofie neglected her studies, Nobel fell in love. The infatuation would last fifteen years, fluctuating substantially in its intensity and warmth. At times, Nobel was jealous;fn16 at other times he was more concerned that Sofie was wasting her life with an ‘old philosopher’ like himself. Nobel’s largesse could also waver. Most often indulgent, he was also capable of railing against Sofie’s extravagant and heavily subsidised lifestyle.
Though Nobel would insist to others that his association with Sofie was platonic, the two often travelled together and, with Nobel’s collusion, Sofie would at times represent herself as Madame Nobel. Ultimately, their relationship cooled and by the late 1880s, Sofie had returned to Austria and begun openly to entertain other men. In July 1891, she had a daughter out of wedlock. She eventually married the Hungarian father, a Captain von Kapivar, in 1895. By then, Nobel had established a fixed annuity of six thousand Hungarian florins for Sofie, albeit with the following admonition:
Figure 9. Sofie Hess.
It is clear to everyone who knows the circumstances that you have been extremely lucky. Most men in my position would have calmly left you to the misery you have brought upon yourself.
Despite the generous support, both Sofie and Captain von Kapivar began to beg Nobel for an increase in her allowance. With the assistance of a lawyer, Sofie’s petitions continued after Nobel’s death. These were now directed to Nobel’s executors (i.e., Sohlman) and with a more threatening tone: if increased funds were not forthcoming, Nobel’s highly personal letters to Sofie would be sold for publication to the highest bidder. Sohlman, anxious to avoid a scandal, negotiated a one-time settlement in return for the affidavit referenced above as well as all outstanding letters from Nobel in Sofie’s possession.
The distasteful nature of Sofie’s demands left Sohlman puzzled as to how a man as sophisticated as Nobel could have fallen in love with such an ill-suited woman. One explanation for Nobel’s puzzling infatuation with Sofie relates to his fragile psychological state at the time of their initial meeting. A few months prior to encountering Sofie, Nobel had taken out the Victorian equivalent of a classified advertisement in a Viennese newspaper: ‘A wealthy and highly educated old gentleman living in Paris seeks to engage a mature lady with language proficiency as secretary and housekeeper’. The successful applicant was a thirty-three-year-old Austrian woman, Countess Bertha Kinsky von Chinic und Tettau. The aristocratic title was misleading. Bertha was a poor cousin within an otherwise prominent family and was then working as a governess in the home of the wealthy Baron Karl von Suttner. After travelling by train to Paris, Bertha was met by Nobel, who then escorted his new employee to comfortable quarters in a nearby hotel. Nobel appears to have fallen instantly in love. By all accounts, Bertha was beautiful and sophisticated. She was fluent in four languages. She shared Nobel’s love of literature and opera.fn17 She, in turn, appears to have been pleasantly surprised by her new circumstances: ‘Alfred Nobel made a very good impression on me. He was certainly anything but the “old gentleman” described in the advertisement.’
Unknown to Nobel, Bertha arrived in Paris still deeply attached to Arthur Gundaccar von Suttner, the son of her recent employer and seven years younger than herself. After only one week of employment, Bertha returned to Vienna so that she and Arthur could elope. Nobel was heartbroken. Despite their limited acquaintance, he had already indulged in fantasies about their life together, including the renovations that would be required to accommodate a married couple within his elegant Parisian mansion on Avenue Malakoff. Reeling from the pain of unrequited love,fn18 Nobel retreated to a spa in Austria. It was there that he met Sofie and her easily won affection.
Figure 10. Bertha von Suttner.
Sohlman, not completely naive, eventually concluded that Sofie represented more than a timely remedy for Nobel’s injured self-esteem. There was also the matter of Nobel’s more ‘basic’
needs. In Sohlman’s words, Sofie was adeptly prepared to do ‘everything possible to amuse and entertain him’.
Years later, Nobel would again find himself in the lingering lonely aftermath of a failed relationship, this time with Sofie as the rejecting figure. Once again, Nobel would turn to a younger woman for affection.
Among Nobel’s personal papers was a series of letters involving a correspondent by the name of Florence Antrobus. It was a forename and surname that Sohlman immediately recognised. In late January 1894, Sohlman had accompanied Nobel on a brief trip to London. Nobel had been scheduled to appear before the House of Lords, then England’s highest court, as a plaintiff in the so-called Cordite Case. The proceedings were the legal culmination of a bitter dispute that arose from Nobel’s invention of a smokeless explosive powder that he had patented in 1877 as ballistite. In 1899, two British scientists (who had been former associates of Nobel) proceeded with their own patent for a compound, which they named cordite. As cordite was virtually identical to ballistite, Nobel was suing for patent infringement.fn19
After completing two days of testimony in London, Nobel asked Sohlman to join him on a short excursion. Until then, Sohlman had been unaware that Nobel was actively looking to procure a substantial tract of land in England in order to test cannons, missiles, and other large-scale armaments. With some excitement, Nobel had read of an interesting opportunity on the Salisbury Plain in Wiltshire, about eighty-five miles from London. It was the headline in London’s Evening News that had captured Nobel’s attention: ‘Stonehenge for sale!’ Although the majestic stone ruins were highlighted in the accompanying advertisement, Nobel had also noticed that 1,300 acres of adjoining land would be associated with the purchase. As Nobel had yet to establish a foothold in the English explosives industry, he was intent on inspecting the acreage for sale as soon as possible.
Nobel and Sohlman visited the property in early February 1894. Acting as principal host and guide was Sir Edmund Antrobus, Third Baronet of Antrobus and proprietor of the estate.fn20 The baronet was a ‘motivated’ seller. Although proud to preside over what those in the Antrobus family referred to as the ‘great relic’, the associated responsibilities had become tedious. Of primary concern was the onslaught of visitors, many
