If only Sophia Charlotte were here, she would have advised her what to do. Life was so disappointing, so unfulfilled. How she longed for Lutzenburg, and intelligent conversation beneath the trees!
What was life at Hanover? There was no culture. Leibniz was still with them but he despaired of bringing distinguished scholars to the court, and even the Electress was no longer interested in philosophical discussion now she had one aim in life—to gain the crown of England before she died.
And here was Caroline—young, beautiful, vital and above all clever, doomed to be the typical German wife, to remain silent when her husband spoke, to accept his word as law— even though he had the mind of a boy of fourteen and the manners and control of one younger—to be humble, docile, suppressing all desires but to be a good wife and bear many children.
No! said Caroline.
But what was the use of rebelling when one was in a Hanoverian prison? There was at least a pretence of freedom here which was more than there was at Ahlden.
There were times when she felt she could give way to despair but in her heart she knew that because she had a more alert mind, a deeper power of concentration, because she had considerable more knowledge than her husband, there must be a way of eluding his domination. She was certain that in time she would find it. And until she did she must allow him to believe that she was the wife he wanted her to be. That was the way she would always have to live. She would always have to let him believe that he was the master. There was no harm in playing a game of pretence so long as in reality she was in command of her own destiny.
And she would be.
It was with great joy that Caroline was able to announce that she was pregnant.
George Augustus came to her in a mood of contrition. He had been angry, he explained. Not with her, of course, but with his father. It was always his father.
"He frustrates me, Caroline. He does everything he knows to annoy me. I shall never be happy until he's dead."
Caroline told him he must not say such things; as for that other matter, since it was over they would say no more about it.
He fell upon her embracing her. She was the best wife in the world. It should never happen again. And now they would have their son. His clever beautiful Caroline had at last become pregnant. He would have a son and she should have a husband whose military exploits were the wonder of the world.
Once I have a child, thought Caroline, that child's interests will be the centre of my life. Then I shall not care that I have an adolescent boy for a husband.
"The Crown Prince and his wife are reconciled," said the Court. "There was never a more devoted husband. Why he is with her every minute of the day. She will grow weary of his company."
If she found his company a little tiring she was pleased to have it. It was a triumph for that policy which the Electress Sophia had used to her advantage.
The Electress complimented her on her tact.
"It is the first which is often a little difficult to accept. I remember my own case. I was young then and a little unworldly, I suppose. I was quite grieved. I quickly learned though, as you will, my dear. Never interfere with a husband's mistresses and you may find that you can have charge of almost everything else. It was a rule I followed with my husband; and Ernest Augustus was a clever man; your husband is a fool."
Caroline did not deny it.
But relations between her and the Electress were still lukewarm because her friendship with the Duchess of Celle continued to make a rift between them, although Sophia did not mention it. But that difference was almost obliterated by Caroline's attitude towards the English.
Caroline had decided that it was impossible to pursue a solitary course at Hanover. She had to take sides either with the Elector or his son; it would be folly, she knew to alienate her husband, so she had ranged herself beside him. That meant that she must delight in the English as George Augustus was doing—not because he liked them, but because his father didn't care for them.
Therefore the rift between the Electress and herself was slowly being bridged.
Sophia was also delighted by Caroline's pregnancy.
She hoped with her that the child would be a boy.
Everyone was waiting for the birth of the heir of Hanover. The child should be due by November, it was said, and the Court was preparing to celebrate; even the Elector realized that the birth of a grandson should be heralded by a little extravagance.
But November passed and although the Electoral Princess continued to look as though she were in the last stages of pregnancy still the birth did not take place.
The Electress Sophia was worried. At last here was something to turn her attention from the English throne.
She talked to Caroline as they walked in the gardens together.
"You are feeling well?" she asked.
"Yes, as well as can be expected in the circumstances."
"But... shouldn't your time be at hand?"
"Doubtless I miscalculated."
A week or two, yes, thought Sophia. But December was upon them, and the child was very much overdue.
She talked to some of the doctors.
It sometimes happened, she was told, that w^hen a woman ardently wished for a child she had all the outwards symptoms of pregnancy, but there was no child. This seemed hardly likely in the case of the Princess Caroline. She was not a nervous type; she seemed so serene, so certain. But it was strange that the child did not arrive. It might be that she was not pregnant after all.
George Augustus was having his uniform made. He was certain that he would soon be going into battle. One thing in the favour of his father was that he kept his word.
All through the December they waited and still there was no birth.
Christmas passed and the New Year Carnival was celebrated throughout Hanover in accordance with the old custom. There were fancy dress balls in the Palace and the Town Hall; for the New Year was brought in with revelry among the high and the low.
In the Opera House of which George Lewis was justly proud operas were performed—the one divertisement that George Lewis could tolerate.
Caroline appeared at the revels, obviously pregnant; but everyone was saying now that there would be no child. Only Caroline was certain that she would soon bear a child; and George Agustus, dressed as a General at the fancy dress ball, was certain he would soon be at the wars.
On a cold January night Caroline went to bed and during the night her pains started.
The next day the long awaited child was born.
It was a boy.
Exhausted and triumphant, Caroline lay back on her pillows. She had succeeded when all the court had thought she would never give birth to a child at all but was the victim of some strange disease.
But there he was, a strong healthy child, bawling with a good pair of lungs to let the world know that he had at last arrived.
George Augustus came to show her his uniform and to admire the baby at the same time. He looked with fond admiration at his wife. Clever Caroline! She had produced a son and given him his heart's desire; he was overcome with love for her; he knelt by the bed and covered her hands with kisses.
The Electress came to see the baby.
"It's to be hoped," she said, "that he will have more sense than his father."
The child was christened Frederick Louis and was known as Fritz; Caroline called him Fritzchen.
So he had his son; now he could go to war.
He must first fit himself for the task, said George Lewis; but he could now study military tactics and be ready perhaps to leave Hanover with the next expedition which would not be for some months.
To argue with George Lewis might mean some fresh embargo so George Augustus curbed his impatience and set about learning how to become a soldier. He enjoyed the life; he was certain it was the one for him; meanwhile he was attentive to his wife and liked to watch the progress of little Fritzchen.