Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series) (17 page)

George Augustus’s eyes were shining with pleasure and happiness; George Lewis’s were grimly content. And the Electress Sophia was saying to herself: This is the happiest moment since my dearest daughter died.

‘Welcome… welcome to Hanover.’ That was the theme of the day.

But it was the Electress Sophia who, with an unusual show of emotion, embraced Caroline and held her in her arms, and whispered: ‘Welcome home, my dear.’

That evening a large company assembled in the palace church to celebrate the marriage of George Augustus, Electoral Prince of Hanover and Caroline, Princess of Ansbach.

The court at Hanover

DURING THE FIRST
weeks of the marriage Caroline was happier than she had believed possible. George Augustus was an attentive husband and being in love was a delightful adventure which appealed to him. Caroline was beautiful; she had grace and charm; she was much admired. George Augustus never tired of reminding people that she had refused the Archduke of Spain to marry him.

‘They were made for each other,’ said the Empress Sophia. ‘And she will be the making of George Augustus.’

George Augustus strutted about the court; all he needed was a son – with other children to follow, of course – and a brilliant record in the army. As yet he had only taken the first step.

Caroline basked in his affection; they were constantly together; he delighted in showing her the pleasures of Hanover; she found the court a little vulgar but she gave no hint of this; instead she planned to change it when she became Electress; then she would endeavour to make Hanover another Charlottenburg. Leibniz was already here; she would invite other philosophers.

It was a pleasure to ride through the streets of Hanover to the cheers of the people. They were particularly friendly towards her
and the Electoral Prince – doubtless, she thought, because for all his qualities as a ruler, George Lewis would never inspire any affection in his people.

She thought Herrenhausen delightful – mainly for its gardens; she liked the little Alte Palais; but the Leine Schloss was a little gloomy – haunted, she thought, by the shadow of a tragedy.

George Augustus, when showing it to her, pointed out the Ritter Hall, the place where it was believed Königsmarck had been murdered.

‘There is one member of the family whom you will not meet,’ he told her. ‘My mother.’

‘Isn’t it possible?’

George Augustus narrowed his eyes and his face grew red with emotion. ‘He will not allow it. I am not allowed to see her. She can’t even write to me. I tell you this, Caroline. I shall not always allow him to have his way.’

‘Perhaps if you explained your point of view.’

‘Explain to my father! You don’t know him yet, Caroline. Wait until you do.’

‘I believe you hate him.’

‘Of course I hate him. Everybody hates him except his women and I expect they only tolerate him for what they get. You’ll hate him too.’

‘I hope not.’

George Augustus turned his red face to her. ‘You’ll hate him, Caroline, because I do.’

She smiled. ‘But we don’t have to hate the same people do we?’

‘Those who love me hate my father.’

It was almost a command.

As she looked at his flushed face and saw the purpose in his eyes, she felt the first twinges of uneasiness.

George Lewis decided that she should receive an income of nine hundred and fifty pounds a year, and summoned her and George Augustus to his presence to explain this to them.

It did not seem a very princely sum to Caroline and she looked dismayed.

‘It will be adequate,’ said George Lewis. ‘I shall pay your
servants and they will be answerable to me.’

‘To you?’ Caroline had spoken without thinking. George Lewis scowled and she hurried on: ‘That would put an unnecessary burden on Your Highness.’

‘They will be answerable to me,’ repeated George Lewis. He turned to his son. ‘You’ll provide your wife with a carriage and horses and you must set aside two thousand pounds a year to be hers should she be left a widow.’

Caroline gasped in dismay but George Lewis threw her a contemptuous look. Women were fools about money, he thought. She thought it was bad taste to refer to her husband’s death. She’d thank his foresight if George Augustus died and left her poor.

Having settled these facts, he dismissed them.

In their own apartments, George Augustus’s anger against his father broke out.

‘Nine hundred and fifty a year!’ he sneered. ‘Generous, isn’t he? Now you begin to know him.’

‘He is paying for my servants,’ said Caroline.

‘You’re making excuses for him!’

‘It’s true. But they’re answerable to him.’

‘Ah, there you see! If you say a word about him in their hearing they’ll report it.’

‘Then I must be careful not to.’

‘You’d never please him whatever you did.’

‘I wish that you and he were friendly towards each other.’

‘As if that’s possible!’

‘Why not?’

George Augustus laughed. ‘You wait until you know him, Caroline.’

She began to realize that this was a divided household. She had hoped to make a good impression on the Elector. There was one characteristic she had regretted in Sophia Charlotte and that was that she had not been interested in the politics of her husband’s court. Caroline could imagine nothing more exciting than helping to govern. She had quickly learned that George Augustus did not possess an intellect to be compared with her own. That at first had not displeased her. It was well, she believed, for the woman to be the dominant partner, even if – and perhaps
it was better so – the husband was unaware of this.

She had hoped that the Elector, who for all his boorishness was a shrewd man, would have recognized this and she could, while having a say in Hanoverian politics, put an end to the strife between father and son.

It suddenly occurred to her that that would not be possible if she were to retain her husband’s affection.

This discord had been going on too long – ever since George Augustus had known that his mother had been sent into exile.

It would be necessary for her to make a choice. She must support her husband or lose his affection because it was not possible to be on friendly terms with both of them. Thus Caroline quickly learned that she had no choice. She must take sides and join in the conflict.

She made another unwelcome discovery.

Leibniz was delighted that she was at the court of Hanover. As she walked with him in the gardens of Herrenhausen he told her how the presence of a cultivated person was needed here.

‘This is very different from our dear Lützenberg,’ he said. ‘They are not very interested in ideas here. Perhaps now that Your Highness is come that will be changed.’

‘But the Electress Sophia is here.’

‘Yes, that’s so. I should not be here otherwise. I could not exist in this slough of ignorance. But the Electress is ageing. She has not been well lately and I have been very anxious about her. Besides, it is for the young to lead opinion. You will set a new fashion in Hanover – a fashion for learning and culture.’

‘That would be very pleasant.’

The Electress Sophia who liked to spend a certain time of the day out of doors joined them and they sat on one of the terraces talking together.

They were speaking of Sophia Charlotte and her theories about death when they were joined by George Augustus and one of his friends.

‘I think she preferred always the open mind,’ said Charlotte. ‘She used to say that to have faith one must first take a leap in the dark.’

‘What’s this?’ asked George Augustus.

‘We were talking of the blessings of faith, Your Highness,’ explained Leibniz.

‘Why?’ asked George Augustus rudely.

‘It’s an interesting subject,’ said Caroline. ‘The Queen of Prussia loved to discuss these matters. We did it constantly at Lützenburg.’

‘Well, you’re not at Lützenburg now.’

‘But we can have equally intelligent conversations here at Hanover.’

‘I don’t care for these intelligent conversations.’

‘You would soon learn to. If you would read some of the philosophers…’

She stopped, for he was looking at her oddly, and the Electress Sophia said quickly: ‘Oh the philosophers were never much to my grandson’s taste, were they, George Augustus?’

‘They would be if I wanted them to. I just don’t, that’s all. Caroline, are you ready?’

She was on the point of saying that she wished to stay with Leibniz and the Electress, when she caught the old woman’s eye.

She rose at once and went with George Augustus into the palace.

As soon as they were alone he turned on her.

‘So you would flaunt your cleverness? he said unpleasantly.

‘My… cleverness?’

‘Oh yes… I am to read the books you give me. I am to learn to be as clever as you.’

‘But I did not say that.’

‘In front of that old fool Leibniz!’

‘He is not a fool. He is one of the cleverest men living.’

‘Clever! Clever! Books, books, books. I tell you I won’t have you trying to make me look a fool.’

‘But… I had no intention…’

‘No intention!’ he screamed in his rage. It was the first time she had seen these rages. He took off his wig and stamped on it. ‘Listen. I married you. You had nothing much to offer… no dowry to speak of… nothing… but I married you.’

She was about to say: Because the King of Spain had asked for me. But she stopped herself in time, and remained silent.

It was the right thing to have done, for it stemmed his rage.

‘I’ll not have it,’ he said. ‘No wife should be cleverer than her husband, should she? Should she?’

If she is, she thought, there is no help for it.

‘Should she?’ he cried again, kicking his wig to the other side of the room.

In the silence that followed it was as though the sad ghost of the young Sophia Dorothea was warning her: Be careful. Don’t go my way.

No, her way was not the right one. Caroline thought fleetingly of her own mother’s miserable marriage.

Clever women took the reins in marriage, but they often did it by seeming docile.

‘No,’ she said slowly, ‘she shouldn’t.’

A slow smile spread over his flushed face.

He walked to his wig, picked it up and crammed it down on his head.

He came to her then, his smile loving and very affectionate.

He kissed her with fervour – her lips first, and then he slid her bodice from her shoulders.

‘You are the best wife in the world,’ he said thickly; and he reminded her of his father.

She wanted to cry out: No. Go away.

But she had learned her first lesson. She could not love this boy with his pitiful arrogance. But she could win nothing by letting him know that she was beginning to despise him.

When George Lewis retired to his bedchamber he found the Countess von Platen waiting for him. He had not intimated that he would need her services that night but he was not surprised because she was the only one of his three established mistresses who now and then took the initiative.

George Lewis was not displeased. Although he liked variety it was among a selected circle; he was a faithful lover and once a mistress had a firm position, she usually kept it. George Lewis was a man who had always dispensed with romantic wooing which he considered a waste of time; therefore a mistress who knew exactly what was expected of her – be she old and ugly as his two favourites Schulemburg and Kielmansegge undoubtedly
had become – was more to his taste than any coy and shrinking virgin.

The Countess von Platen differed from the other two in the fact that she was both beautiful and fairly young, but he would never have selected her in the first place if she had not brought herself to his notice. When she had come to the Court as the wife of his first minister’s son he had been unaware of her; until one night he had discovered her in his bedchamber where she threw herself on her knees and demanded to know why she had offended him.

He had replied in his blunt way that he could not see how she had since he was unaware of her existence. Whereupon she implored him not to be so cruel. Did he object to her looks?

Studying her closely he replied that he could not do that for he could see that she was very beautiful. In fact he thought she must be one of the most beautiful women at his court.

‘If you think so,’ she replied, ‘why do you spend all your time with Madam Schulemburg and my sister-in-law Madam Kielmansegge?’

George Lewis gave this question consideration. Preoccupation with state matters had offered little opportunity for looking round, he said, but since she had been so kind as to bring herself to his notice, he saw no reason why he should not extend his patronage. At which the young Countess dried her tears, fell on her knees, told him he was the most beneficent ruler in the world, and from thence forward George Lewis had three established mistresses instead of two.

Schulemburg and Kielmansegge were too lethargic and too well-established to care. Schulemburg had only one passion in life, apart from her genuine devotion to George Lewis, and that was adding to her wealth. Kielmansegge’s great delight was in the adventures of the bedchamber, but unlike her royal patron she liked a constant change of scene. As neither of these ladies had to fear youth and beauty, the young Countess von Platen was a welcome member of the trinity as it meant a little relief from duty.

Now the Countess von Platen did not immediately state the reason for her visit. She would let George Lewis believe what
in any case it did not enter his mind to doubt – that she had come to enjoy his company.

It was not until the morning that she said: ‘Her Serene Highness the Electoral Princess has not invited me to her soirée yet. I fancy she considers that I should not be a suitable guest.’

George Lewis grunted: ‘Why not?’

‘Since Mesdames Schulemburg and Kielmansegge have not been invited either and we seem to be the only three ladies who have been treated in this way, the reason seems obvious. It is because of our relationship with you. I know you won’t allow the silly creature to be so foolish.’