by Jean Plaidy
The second prospect made her shiver.
Frederick William had returned from Hanover no better than he had gone away. He still strutted about the court, arrogant as ever, and none of the attendants and servants dared thwart him or he would take his revenge; he would warn them that one day he would be their master and he would not forget.
Thinking of marriage with him made Caroline’s thoughts turn to those far-off days in Saxony.
Never! she told herself. I would rather remain unmarried. That is the answer. I will never marry. I will stay here with dearest Sophia Charlotte until the end of my days.
Frederick William had certainly not learned better manners at Hanover. It was hardly to be expected that he would. He had taken a violent dislike to his cousin George Augustus and waylaid Caroline in the gardens to tell her about it.
‘You’ve grown taller since I’ve been away, Madam Caroline,’ he said.
‘I daresay you have too, but I don’t notice.’
The angry lights leaped into his eyes, and she was startled to see how violent he could quickly become.
‘Then notice now!’ he demanded.
‘It is of no interest to me.’
‘I command that you do.’
‘Are you in a position to command me?’
‘The Electoral Prince has power to command all his dependents.’
Caroline laughed. He took her by the shoulder, his lower lip projecting in an ugly fashion, and for a moment she thought he was going to strike her.
‘I’ve no doubt,’ she said. ‘But he should not make the mistake of trying to command those who are not.’
‘And you… the penniless orphan…’
‘I am here at the wish of the Elector and Electress of Brandenburg who, let me remind you, have the power to command the Electoral Prince.’
He laughed suddenly. ‘You have spirit for a girl who has nothing.’
‘How can I have nothing if I have my spirit?’
‘Now, Caroline, you’re being clever. Save that for old Leibniz and the rest. Don’t try it on me.’
‘I admit it would be wasted.’
He brought his face close to hers. ‘Now you’re afraid I’m going to kiss you. Poor Caroline, who has never been kissed. You really are getting old for such ignorance. You want knowledge. Well, why not seek it.’
She pushed him aside.
‘Don’t get ideas,’ he said. ‘My cousin Sophia Dorothea is ten times prettier than you. I wouldn’t look at you when she was around.’
Disturbing! Particularly as marriages were often made without the consent of the two concerned.
A storm cloud had appeared in the skies over Lützenburg; one could not be young forever; one could not remain protected from the ugliness of the world under the cloak of an adored guardian. Change would come and Caroline was growing up.
There was nothing the Electress Sophia enjoyed more than a tête-à-tête with her daughter. She admired Sophia Charlotte more than any living being and loved her more dearly than any of her children, Sophia Charlotte was not only beautiful and talented, she was wise.
The Electress Sophia could not see how she herself could better have handled her own life. She had not loved Ernest Augustus when she had married him and would have much preferred the man to whom she was first betrothed, the Duke of Celle, father of her ill-fated daughter-in-law Sophia Dorothea who was now a prisoner at Ahlden; but she had accepted Ernest Augustus and her rank and dignity had given her a certain power. All she had to do was let him go his way, let him keep his mistresses, never protest or show that she minded; and in return he accepted her position as Electress, as a Princess of royal birth, and she could have her will in all matters that did not clash with his desires. It was the kind of compact only an extremely wise woman could carry through; and she had done it.
Sophia Charlotte had one gift which her mother lacked: beauty. And this, the old Electress would be the first to admit, was a very valuable one. Because of it she had not to placate a husband who preferred other women to herself; she was able to lead her own life as determinedly as Sophia had led hers, but with greater charm and dignity.
It was a pleasure to see her here in her magnificent palace; and the Electress was most proud of her daughter.
‘And what do you really think of my Caroline?’ asked Sophia Charlotte.
‘I find her a pleasant creature and I am ready to love her because her companionship has made you very happy.’
‘Few have given me greater happiness than that girl. I brought her here because I thought it my duty. Oh, I took a fancy to her from the first, but I never thought that I should find in her the daughter I have always longed to have.’
‘If I stayed here I should love the girl even as you do. You have made her like yourself. The other day when I heard her talking out of sight, I thought it was you I heard.’
Sophia Charlotte was delighted. ‘I have noticed it too.’
‘She begins to look like you, too. She imitates you. You wear a bow on your gown one day and she does the next.’
‘She is the dearest creature. Sometimes I wonder what I shall do if she ever has to go away.’
‘Marriage, you mean?’
‘I sometimes look at her with fear. She is no longer a child. Many are married at her age. I suppose the day will come…’
‘Yes,’ agreed Sophia, ‘the day will come.’
‘You are not thinking of her for Frederick William?’
‘His father would never agree.’
‘Wouldn’t you be able to persuade him? If I know you, my dear…’
‘On all but state matters. Frederick William’s marriage could be that.’
‘A blessing for Caroline.’
‘You are not favourably impressed by your grandson?’
‘My dearest daughter, some of us are apt to be blind where our children are concerned but you have too much sense. He is unmannerly, arrogant, ungovernable.’
Sophia Charlotte looked distressed, and her mother put her hand over her daughter’s.
‘It happens sometimes that our children disappoint us. I can tell you I find my son George Lewis… despicable. You and I are not the women to deceive ourselves, are we? If we are it makes a nonsense of all this fine talk we hear in these gardens of yours. No, we face the truth. There lies our strength. My eldest is a crude boor. Yours while not possessing the same deplorable characteristics has those equally bad. Face it, daughter.’
‘You have many children, Mother. I have only one. You were not disappointed in all.’
‘I had the best daughter in the world… and so, it appears have you.’
‘Caroline is not my own flesh and blood.’
‘Now you are not being true to your theories. Caroline is all to you that any daughter could be. Are you going to love her less because you did not suffer torments to bring her into the world? Be rational. Isn’t that what you say with your philosophers?’
‘You’re right, Mother. Of what have I to complain while I have Caroline! But daughters leave their mothers when they marry – and it is that I fear, unless…’
The Electress smiled and looked absently towards the delightful fountain playing in the midst of Le Nôtre’s magnificent handiwork.
My dearest daughter will have to face a great problem, she was telling herself. To keep her dear Caroline with her through marriage with a man, who might be considered one of the biggest catches in Germany, but is almost certain to be one of the worst husbands – or to let her marry outside and go away.
Sophia could picture her daughter torturing herself with a hundred possibilities. Keep her and guard her? Or let her go away and possibly marry as unhappily as she would at home? It was certainly a problem. But then marriage was always a gamble; and Caroline could not be protected all her life. She must go out and face the world alone, which, Sophia was certain, Caroline would be able to do adequately.
What a pity, Sophia Charlotte was thinking, that time could not stand still and charm
ing daughters always remain young and the dearest companions of their doting mothers!
A thought had come to the old Electress. At Hanover there was another grandson who would be needing a bride: George Augustus, son of George Lewis.
Now suppose Caroline were his bride; suppose she came to Hanover. Well, that would bring Sophia Charlotte often to Hanover; the young bride could visit Berlin frequently; and the Electress Sophia would have a daughter whom she could love and respect.
A very pleasant prospect for a woman who, as she grew older, felt a longing for young companionship and affection.
Being Sophia she said nothing as yet of this idea to her daughter. So while they sat together in one of those cosy and comfortable silences which only those who are in harmony can enjoy, Sophia Charlotte was thinking of Caroline’s possible marriage to her son, while her mother explored the possibility of bringing Caroline to Hanover as the bride of George Augustus.
One day, thought Sophia Charlotte, Frederick William will be King of Prussia. My Caroline would be a Queen – and she is clever enough to handle him. What other girl could?
One day, thought the Electress Sophia, George Augustus could be King of England. Caroline would be a Queen… and Queen of England. What higher goal than that in Germany… or in the whole world?
The Electress Sophia talked to Caroline.
‘My dear, do you speak English?’
‘No,’ answered Caroline.
‘Oh, but that is shocking! You should, you know.’
‘There has never seemed any need.’
‘Never seemed any need! But it is the most important language in the world. What if you should ever go there? A fine ninny you would look not being able to understand what was said.’
‘I doubt if I should ever go there.’
‘Get that notion out of your head at once. Why, sometimes I think that all this talk of “the why of the why” and “where are we going” and “leaps in the dark and what happens after death” leaves you a little foolish about the everyday business of living.’
‘But please tell me why you think I should go to England?’
‘Suppose I went to England and asked you to visit me.’
‘Are you thinking of going?’
‘Does my daughter never talk to you of her family?’
‘She has done so but…’
‘Then surely you are not unaware of our most important connection.’
‘Perhaps you will please explain.’
‘My mother was Elizabeth Queen of Bohemia and her father was James the Sixth of Scotland and the First of England.’
‘Yes I did know that.’
‘Let me refresh your memory. His son Charles the First was a King of England. You know his tragic story.’
‘Yes. He was beheaded by order of the Parliament, and Oliver Cromwell set up a Commonwealth.’
‘But it didn’t last. The English have too much sense. A Commonwealth! They soon had his son back and the second Charles showed the people how much better it is to be ruled by a king than a parliament.’
‘They are a pleasure-loving people who turned against the puritan ways, so I’ve heard.’
‘You heard correctly. Charles’s brother James followed him but he was a fool and became a Catholic so for that reason he was turned out in favour of William and Mary. They had no children so Anne, Mary’s sister came to the throne. She sits on it now and… she finds it hard to get a healthy son. If she fails in this, who will be the next sovereign of England?’
Caroline dared not let the old lady see her smile. This was her favourite hobby horse. Sophia Charlotte had discussed it with her. ‘My mother is the shrewdest calmest woman in the world, except for one thing. Over that she is fanatical. England – and her chances of becoming Queen of that country! They are remote enough, God knows, but there is a possibility. That possibility is the ruling passion of her life.’
Caroline said gently: ‘The deposed King has a son who might be James the Third.’
‘They’ll never tolerate him. He’s a Catholic. The English turned out the father for that reason. They’ll not have the son back for the same. Where would the sense be? And the English are the most sensible people in the world. Where will they turn then for a Protestant monarch. I’ll tell you, Caroline. They’ll turn to Hanover. For I am the next in the line of succession. If Anne doesn’t have a son – and how can she, poor dropsical, gouty lady – they must turn to me if they want the Protestant religion preserved; and they do. I should be Queen of England, Caroline. And if I were I should invite you to my court. A fine figure you would cut – not being able to speak the language. Promise me that you will learn it.’
‘I promise,’ said Caroline.
The Electress Sophia sadly said farewell.
‘Goodbye my dearest daughter, write to me often. You know what your letters mean to me.’
‘And yours to me, Mother. Let me know all that happens at Hanover.’
‘And goodbye, Caroline, my dear. I shall miss your bright company. I think perhaps I shall send someone over from Hanover to kidnap you and bring you to me.’
Caroline glowed with pleasure. She would never completely forget the horror of Saxony, even though it was difficult now to compare herself with that unwanted child who had been forced to keep out of everyone’s way for fear she should be noticed.
Sophia Charlotte was delighted too.
‘You have made a favourable impression on Mother,’ she said, as they watched the cavalcade ride away. ‘And that is something that is rarely done.’ She put her arm about her. ‘Don’t imagine, though, that I should ever allow her to kidnap you. No one is going to do that.’
Sophia Charlotte’s eyes had rested uneasily on her son who, in the party assembled to say farewell to the departing guests, was looking almost amiable. She knew it was because he was glad to see the last of his grandmother for a while.
He had come back from Hanover as unattractive as he had been before he went.
It might be that marriage would improve him, Sophia Charlotte deceived herself into thinking.
After the departure of the Electress Sophia the old way of life was resumed at Lützenburg and Sophia Charlotte tried to forget the unpleasant subject of Caroline’s marriage.
Her husband had now become King of Prussia and in this important role was able to indulge his love of ceremony more than ever. Secretly Caroline would have liked to join in the ceremonies and could have found great pleasure in putting on dazzling garments and appearing at state banquets. She did not mention this for she knew it would mark a difference between her and Sophia Charlotte and disappoint the latter.
But because the days were so pleasant they slipped quickly away and Caroline was now approaching her twentieth birthday. It was being suggested that she was never to marry for surely if she had been intended to, a bridegroom would have been found for her by now. On the other hand, was she waiting for the Crown Prince of Prussia to reach marriageable age?
Caroline was aware of these whispers and made uneasy by them. Whenever she thought of marriage she was reminded of her mother’s unhappy experience and certainly she had no wish to change the existing state of affairs. To leave Lützenburg! How could she ever be happy anywhere else? To stay and marry Frederick William? It was difficult to know which was the worse project – to leave Lützenburg to go to an unknown husband or to stay and marry one whom she already disliked.
The Crown Prince himself was aware of the whispers; they made him laugh and plunge into profligacy which was even more shocking than that which he had practised before.
There was a change in the air.
The King of Prussia, when he had time from state matters, was beginning to regard Caroline speculatively, pondering on the fact that she might be a useful factor in some treaty which would bring advantage to Prussia.
Caroline had a return of the nightmares which had haunted her when she had feared for her mother and which had returned now and then after her death. It was like
a recurring pattern.
Oh God, save me from marriage, she prayed.
Sophia Charlotte had come to a decision. She would not lose Caroline. Anything was preferable to that.
When she went to her husband’s apartments to talk to him about Caroline, he was as affectionate as usual and expressed pleasure at the visit.
‘Caroline is twenty years old,’ she said.
‘No longer a girl,’ he commented. ‘She should have had a husband years ago and a family by now.’
‘I have wanted to keep her with me.’
‘I know. But she has a life of her own to lead.’
‘I want to see her married but I want to see her happy too. Lützenburg has been home to her; she loves the place; I doubt whether she will ever be really happy anywhere else.’
‘Oh, she’ll settle down with her husband.’
‘I want her to remain here. Frederick William will need a wife. Why not Caroline?’
‘Caroline from little Ansbach! You cannot be serious. Our son is the Crown Prince of Prussia.’
‘He is our son and Caroline has been as our daughter.’
‘She has enjoyed all the advantages a daughter of ours would have had but she is not our daughter. And when it comes to marriage these things are important. The future King of Prussia could not marry an obscure girl from a place like Ansbach.’
‘Why not… if we wished it?’
‘But we don’t wish it. You may, but I do not. Moreover I can never allow it.’
He saw the surprise and sorrow in her face and was contrite.
‘My dear,’ he said, ‘I have always allowed you to go your way. I have never interfered with your pleasures. I have tried in every way to give you what you want. This I cannot give you. This is the future of Prussia.’
