His own marriage had been arranged by his parents and those of his wife—their fathers were brothers; and the marriage had been part of a grand reconciliation between them. He had not wanted marriage with the pretty silly creature; nor had she wanted marriage with him, who, she considered, was gross, crude, coarse and everything she had been brought up to dislike.
If they had been allowed to have any say in the matter that marriage would never have taken place and it might have been that a family of healthy boys would now be his.
He disliked his son but for the good of Hanover, for which he cared more than anything else, he did not want him to make a marriage similar to that of his parents. He should not be hustled into marriage as they had been. He should have a chance to see his bride, to approve of her, to be sure that he could live in reasonable harmony with her. He should not be forced into marriage ... at least not if he was prepared to make a reasonable choice.
George Lewis walked through the old Leine Schloss. He did not avoid those apartments which had belonged to his wife. Usually he passed through them without thinking; but in view of the recent interview with his mother and this talk of marriage, Sophia Dorothea was in his thoughts.
Here she had received Konigsmarck on that fateful night; and after he left her he would have had to cross this large apartment which was known as the Ritter Hall where, hidden by the enormous stove which looked like a mausoleum, guards had been waiting for him.
Here, thought George Lewis, if the stories he had heard were correct, his wife's lover had been stabbed to death and his body dragged outside the castle and buried in quicklime.
Ancient history! Konigsmarck was long since dead; only the captive of Ahlden lived on to repent her sins and doubtless to curse the man who had treated her with such ruthlessness.
He had no regrets. She had deceived him; she had bickered with him continually; she had shown her contempt; she had sneered at his mistresses; well now she could sneer to her heart's content within the walls of Ahlden. And he continued to enjoy those mistresses and all knew what happened to those who defied George Lewis, Elector of Hanover.
All the same, George Augustus must avoid such a disastrous marriage if possible and perhaps some immunity might be secured by letting him have a say in the choosing of his own wife.
George Lewis would call one or two of his trusted ministers together and they would discuss this matter and the best way of tackling it.
He first sent for Count von Platen, his Prime Minister. Platen was a good minister, docile, ready to obey without question. He had climbed to his present position, it was true, through his wife who had been the notorious mistress of George Lewis's father; but having attained his position he was able to maintain it.
"I've been thinking," said George Lewis, "that it's time the Prince was married. I want him to pay a visit to Ansbach to look at the Princess Caroline at present staying with her brother the Margrave. If he likes her, we can make an offer."
"Yes, Highness. Who shall travel with him?"
"He will go incognito. This is a matter of secrecy, Platen. If she refuses him I don't want any one to know it. The Archduke Charles has offered for her and she is considering. She's got an appreciation of her own value clearly. That might not be a bad thing. If the King of Prussia knows what we're after he'll thwart us because he wants her for Charles. Therefore no one must know of this but ourselves, the Prince, and who ever accompanies him."
"And the Electress Sophia?"
"Let's keep women out of this, Platen. I don't trust their tattling tongues. Even my mother. She can't resist writing to that niece of hers, the Duchess of Orleans ... She's the biggest scandalmonger in France and if she had an inkling of this it would soon reach the Prussian King's ears. So we'll have no women in this secret, Platen. Not even my mother."
"Very good, Your Highness."
"Who's the best man to accompany him?"
"I should say the Baron von Eltz. He was his governor and he's a good minister. He'd be discreet and see that the Prince was."
"Then that's settled. And one valet de chamhre, no more. He'll be a nobleman travelling for his amusement. We'd better send for him and tell him."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Father and son regard each other with mutual dislike.
If she won't take the Archduke she'll not fancy this prancing boy! thought George Lewis, scowling.
He's quite crude, thought George Augustus. Who would believe that he was the Elector! When I'm in his shoes I shall be different.
"It's time you were married," George Lewis said. "You might fancy the Princess of Ansbach. You can go to Ansbach and take a look at her. If you like what you see we'll offer for her."
As though, thought George Augustus, she were a horse they were going to buy. What did Platen think of this crude boor? What did the elegant Baron von Eltz?
But the prospect of going to Ansbach to see Caroline pleased him, particularly as he could decide whether or not he would have her. That appealed to his conceit which ever since he had realized what a little man he was had grown out of all proportion to his accomplishments.
"You'll pose as a nobleman travelling for pleasure," said George Lewis. "You'll call at the Ansbach Court with letters from Platen. See to that. Platen."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"You will take von Eltz with you. You will be his friend, von Eltz, calling yourself Steding. But on no account let it be known who you are. If you do, you can depend upon it the King of Prussia will hear, and he'll take the Princess back to Berlin and force her to marry the Archduke Charles. No one must know. Do you hear me? Particularly women. Now go and prepare. Leave tomorrow. If you decide you want to marry her, remember delay could lose her. So could gossip. Remember that."
He dismissed them and they went off to make ready for the journey.
George Augustus was excited but he was not even tempted to tell his sister where he was going.
Those months at Ansbach were the saddest Caroline had ever known. Each morning on waking her first thoughts were: She is dead. I shall never see her again.
She had wept until she was exhausted with weeping; she had shut herself into the bedroom which had been hers as a child and had seen no one for days. Then she had told herself that Sophia Charlotte would have chided her, would have reminded her that she must not give way to grief; that she must be brave as she had always been taught to be.
But there is no longer anything to live for, Caroline thought. How could I have believed for one moment that I could have left her and gone to Spain? This is a judgement on me because I was tempted by the glitter of a crown.
If she would only come back, I would tell her that I would never never leave her.
Her servants tried to rouse her from her melancholy. Would she not like to see the gown her seamstress was making for her? The woman wanted to know whether she would like embroidered panels or should they be of plain velvet. She had no interest in clothes. Would she care to do a little needlework? Embroidery was such a restful occupation. She had never cared for needlework. Sometimes they told her amusing stories about people of her brother's court—and of other courts, but scandal did not interest her.
She and Sophia Charlotte had talked of religion, philosophy, history, art, literature. With whom could she talk of such things now?
There is nothing ... nothing left to me, she thought.
Her brother was unusually understanding. She was grateful to him; it was fortunate that having now become Margrave he could offer her this refuge of her old home. He would talk to her of the days of their childhood before she had known Sophia Charlotte, and somehow this was soothing. Certainly here in the old Palace of the Margraves, so ornate and flamboyant as she now knew, having been educated in good taste by Sophia Charlotte, she could be less miserable than anywhere else. She liked to walk round the gallery and look sadly at the portraits of the Hohenzollerns, her ancestors, and wonder about their lives. Had they ever known grief like hers? How could any have felt such a loss? There could only have been one in the world like Sophia Charlotte.