Queen in waiting

The End of a Life and the Beginning of a Reign

Sophia was growing anxious. She had noticed lately that the arrivals from England had decreased in the last months and this was a bad sign. Fewer people were leaving the sinking ship—and there was no doubt that Anne was sinking ... fast. She could not live much longer; and she was growing more and more sentimental about her half-brother, talking of him continually, remembering the wrong she had helped her sister Mary and her brother-in-law William do to her father. Her great love was the Church—the English reformed Church— and this was the hope of Hanover. Yet news was brought that James had declared he would maintain the church of England. What if the dying woman, to expiate her conscience, believed this? Would the people prefer to keep the Stuarts than to bring in the Guelphs of Hanover?

Sophia could not rest. She pondered the matter night and day, talked of nothing else, and Caroline was her chief confidant. The more Caroline learned of England, the more she longed to be there. She had grown to accept Sophia's valuation and was as certain as she was that Hanover was like a little country town compared with a great kingdom. She and Sophia had fought to bring a little culture to Hanover but what uphill work it was! She had an idea from the visitors from that country, how different it would be in England. Marlborough had been dismissed from all his offices and he and his Duchess were in exile now. They were waiting, it was said, for the Queen to die; but there had been unpleasant rumours about Marlborough, always a clever man where his own interests were concerned, except when he married Sarah—the one occasion when he was prompted by his heart and not his head. And look where that had led him! If Sarah had not quarrelled with the Queen—and how easy it should have been not to—he would have been in his old place now. But Marlborough, it was said, was in secret correspondence with James, ready to jump with whichever side was going to be victorious. One should be wary of such men.

The Treaty of Utrecht had been signed and received with joy in England by the people who were heartily sick of war; but the fact that there was peace meant that the ties between Hanover and England were slackened.

There were rumours that Bolingbroke and Ormonde were rising in favour—and both these men were suspected of supporting the Jacobites—while Oxford was falling into disfavour; he had offended Lady Masham; he had appeared drunk before the Queen; and it was said that he would soon be obliged to relinquish his office. Anne was ready to be advised and the nearer to death she came, the more ready was she to sway towards the return of her brother.

It was intolerable. Sophia saw the dream of a lifetime remaining a dream. For once James was proclaimed James III of England, she would never be the Queen. George Lewis was not sufficiently attracted by the crown of England to fight for it. Oaf that he was, he had no desire for a better way of life. He was satisfied with Hanover.

She was becoming ill with anxiety; she slept little; she could concentrate on nothing but the English succession. She would walk in the gardens of Herrenhausen with Caroline and Leibniz—the two in whom more than any others she could confide her true feelings—and discuss the possibility of Anne's secretly sending for her half-brother and leaving the crown to him. All he would have to do was promise to maintain the Church of England—and how easy it was to give such promises!

"You'll be ill if you go on in this way," said Caroline.

"My dear, you do not seem to understand what this means. If James becomes King of England, we shall never be anything but Electors of Hanover. You will never be Queen of England. Don't you understand?"

"I do understand, of course."

"And that it could so easily happen? '

"That's true. But you can do no good by making yourself ill."

"George Lewis will do nothing. He has not even bothered to learn English—though he speaks French well enough. How could a man be so perverse! And this is my son. What help is he? If his father were alive how different it would be! But he isn't. And I have to think for us all ... while I have no power to act."

"So in the circumstances Your Highness should not disturb yourself so."

"My dear Caroline, you astonish me. The English throne is about to be lost. What can we do? I cannot remain here ... just waiting."

"There are evidently intrigues at the Court of England," said Caroline. "If you were there ..."

"If I were there!" echoed Sophia. "Of course. My dear, I knew you would have a wise suggestion to make. Of course I must be there."

"Your health ... ?"

"Nonsense. What I need to make me well and strong is the crown of England. I have told you often that I should die happy only if the words Queen of England Scotland and Ireland were engraved on my tomb."

"I pray you do not talk of dying," said Caroline with a shiver.

Sophia laughed. "Die. Why should I? You are right. I must go to England."

"The Queen has been against a visit from Hanover for so long/' Leibniz pointed out.

"That's true, but everything is different now. She must understand that I should be there."

"She has a superstitious fear that to see any member of the house of Hanover in England would be an indication that she could not live long. It is hardly likely that she will feel differently now when even she must know that death is close."

"I must go to England," said Sophia.

And watching her Caroline was surprised that the old woman, who had always behaved with shrewd and calculating calmness, could over this one thing for which she cared more than anything else on earth, so betray her eagerness and become vulnerable.

She hoped that, however urgently she desired something, she would never betray it as Sophia was doing now.

Caroline was summoned to the Electress's apartments, where she found the old woman in bed.

"A slight indisposition," said Sophia.

"The tension and excitement have caused it," added Caroline. "You could not think of making a journey to England in your condition."

"Perhaps you are right. I have left it too long. I should have been there by now. Sometimes I think that I should not go to England except as its Queen."

Caroline nodded.

"But that does not mean that Hanover should not be represented there. I should like to speak to you about that. You know whom I have in mind. George Augustus speaks English ... tolerably. He is popular with them, and he has always shown his approval of all things English. I have been thinking that he should go to England."

"Yes," said Caroline slowly. "I am sure you are right."

"George Lewis could not go ... nor does he want to. It would be the end of our hopes once they set eyes on his sullen face. Besides he doesn't speak a word of their language. Can you imagine that a man could be such a fool! He may be King of a country and doesn't bother to learn the language! No, George Augustus should go. Do you agree with me?"

"I do," said Caroline, her eyes shining. Let George Augustus go to England. Let him ingratiate himself with the English. Then when Queen Anne died ... if Sophia became Queen and eventually George Lewis was King, it would be the Prince of Wales who would enjoy the popularity of his new country— not the King. Caroline was uncertain that they would ever get to England, but if they did, there would without a doubt be a feud between George Lewis and his son.

She must not forget that and must in fact begin working for the good of her husband—and therefore her own.

Yes, it was an excellent idea that George Augustus should go to England, to represent the House of Hanover at this important time.

George Lewis set his jaw firmly and faced his chief minister Bernstorff who had worked for him ever since, as chief minister to the Duke of Celle, he had conspired against his master for the sake of Hanover—at considerable profit, it was true. But he was too shrewd a minister to lose sight of. and on the death of the Duke of Celle, when Bernstorff could no longer work for Hanover at Celle, George Lewis had welcomed him to work for him openly.

"My son wants to go to England," he said. "And the English appear to be eager to have him there."

"Only the Whig faction, Your Highness. The Queen would not welcome him."

"He's not going, in any case."

"No, Your Highness?"

"Come, Bernstorff. You know my son. What will he be at do you think? Poisoning them against me before I get there ... if I ever do. Certainly George Augustus shall not go."

"You are right as usual. Highness. He could do us a great deal of harm."

"Picture him, making himself pleasant. They might not see through him until it was too late. Go and tell him he can stop thinking about such a journey. We do not want him to represent Hanover."

"Your Highness would consider making the journey?"

"I do not consider it. I wish to stay in Hanover. My mother has a picture of England which she has had as long as I knew her. Some Valhalla, I fancy. I don't share her view. I've no wish to go to their island. They can keep it."

"Three Crowns, Your Highness. William of Orange thought they were worth making a bid for."

"He had a small kingdom.'*

Bernstorff spread his hands.

George Lewis grunted. His minister was right, of course, if the crowns of England, Scotland and Ireland came to Hanover, the power of the Guelphs would be greatly increased from a little German state to a great country.

George Lewis was not a deeply ambitious man. He did not want to be disturbed; he was happy enough in Hanover which he, following his father's rule, had strengthened and made rich; he governed judicially; here he lived with his own people; he did not like what he had seen of the English who came to Hanover, nor did they—and they made this quite clear—like him.

For some strange reason they accepted George Augustus, the little popinjay, the arrogant, quick-tempered, self-opinionated little man—which in case showed they hadn't much sense.

Was he going to allow George Augustus to go to England to ingratiate himself further? And to take with him that wife of his. She was a clever one, a sly one. George Lewis was not at all sure of her. She had ten times the brain of George Augustus and shrewdly she was with him in all he did.

No, George Augustus was not going to England.

George Augustus kicked a stool across the room.

"I am not to go to England. He forbids it. I am a grown man, am I not? I have proved myself on the battlefield. And I think I have given proof of my manhood. But ... I am not to go to England. Papa forbids it."

"He is jealous of your popularity," said Caroline quietly.

George Augustus stood still smiling. What a pleasant construction to put on this irritating matter I His father refused him not because he feared he might be incompetent but because he was jealous of him!

"That," continued Caroline, "is the reason why he will not allow you to go to England."

"He is such a crude boor. He will never be liked in England."

George Augustus was studying his reflection in the mirror seeing himself arriving in England, the crowds cheering. What a handsome man! Have you heard how he distinguished himself on the battle field? A favourite of the ladies ... but at the same time a good husband. His wife adores him, but of course, he being such a man, there are his mistresses. His wife forgives him? With such a man, such natural frailties are forgiven.

He could hear their cheers ringing in his ears. They had always liked him; and he had liked them. But his father wouldn't let him go.

George Lewis, the Elector, was jealous of his son. It was almost worth not going to England to know that. And Caroline had seen it.

He smiled at her. She was a good wife.

He went to her and taking her arm made her sit down beside him. He always felt happier sitting, when his lack of inches did not show.

"Well," he said, "I shall not go to England then. And that pleases you?"

"It pleases me to have you here in Hanover, yet I am sure it would have been good for you to go to England. When we get there ... if we ever do ... the strife between you and your father will continue. I want us to make sure that the English are on your side ... not on your father's."

He kissed her. She was a clever woman, as women went. He was fortunate to have such a wife ... and such a pleasant mistress as Henrietta Howard. Two women who adored him so much that they never made trouble. Henrietta was demure in the presence of Caroline, never betraying by a hint that she enjoyed the special favours of her husband; as for Caroline she continued to treat Henrietta as a friend; she knew of course of the intimacy between him and Henrietta; but she accepted a mistress as necessary to a man of his virility.

He was certain in that moment that he loved Caroline very much.

There was acute conflict between the Elector and his son; Sophia held conferences with George Augustus and Caroline in her apartments; the Elector was angry, chiefly with Caroline. He had always respected his mother and despised his son; but Caroline's turning against him angered him. He respected her mentality; he would have welcomed her as an ally; that she supported her husband he did not regard as a natural action but a foolish one.

The tension was rising. News came from England that Queen Anne was on the point of dying.

"It cannot be long now," said Sophia to Caroline.

They had settled in at Herrenhausen for the summer and Sophia was always happier there than anywhere else. She walked every day in the gardens, but she liked to have a companion with her and this was almost always Caroline.

The conversation was mainly about England; in fact Sophia showed her impatience if any other subject was mentioned. Caroline often attempted to turn the conversation because she was afraid that the excitement this matter of the throne of England roused in Sophia was not good for her. There were times when the old lady looked her age—she was eighty-four— and that was something she had never done before. She would grow breathless in her indignation and often Caroline had to urge her to sit down.

This irritated Sophia who on one occasion demanded to know whether Caroline thought she, not Anne, was on the point of death.

Anne, growing more and more feeble each day, grew also more and more aggravating. News came that she was continually praying for her half-brother, that she was favouring the Jacobites, even that she had written a document, which was to be produced after her death, to the effect that James was to inherit.

"George Augustus must go to England," said Sophia. "Oh, Caroline, he must. He must let them see that he will be a good Protestant. He should leave without delay. George Lewis is mad to prevent him. He is letting his jealousy overrule his common sense."

Caroline agreed that George Augustus must go and as they were discussing how they could bring George Lewis to his senses the courier arrived with letters from England.

The two ladies went into the palace where George Lewis was receiving the courier, and waited for a while in Sophia's apartment, but as George Lewis sent no message, they went along to George Lewis's apartment.

He looked surprised to see them and barely greeted them, but Sophia was far too anxious about the news from England to care.

"What news is there?" she demanded.

"There is a letter from Queen Anne," muttered George Lewis.

"From the Queen. What does she say?"

"She is annoyed because of these suggestions to send George Augustus to England. She doesn't want him."

"She doesn't want to see George Augustus! "

"Strange as you think it, she doesn't. In fact she hints that if any of our family set foot in England while she is alive she will alter the succession."

Sophia gasped. "I don't believe it."

George Lewis went to his table and picking up a document handed it to his mother.

She read it and grew pale. It was exactly as he had said. She was feeling faint and gripped the table to support herself. Nothing seemed safe and secure.

The throne which had seemed so near had begun to recede. So much depended on the whim of a woman who should have been dead long ago but who obstinately clung to life.

She could in a moment destroy all their hopes; and surely if they were to inherit the throne they should be in England now.

George Lewis said to her with more tenderness than he usually displayed: "Sit down. You look a little shaken."

She sat down, still holding the letter. She tried to read it through again, but the writing danced before her eyes.

George Lewis was watching her intently. She handed the letter to him.

"I felt a little unwell for a moment or two," she said. "I am all right now."

Sophia sat in her apartments at Herrenhausen writing a letter to her niece, the Duchess of Orleans, the most notorious scandal-monger at the French Court. It was a habit of Sophia's to write to this niece whenever she was particularly disturbed and even though she realized that Elizabeth Charlotte was completely mischievous and what she wrote would be discussed freely at the French Court, she could never resist writing to her. The letters were a safety valve for one who had so often been forced to curb her true feelings.

She was smiling as she wrote, telling her niece how badly the Queen of England was behaving, first by being so long in dying, secondly by flirting with the idea of placating her conscience and naming her half-brother as her successor. And here she was, at Herrenhausen, when she should be at the Court of St. James. George Lewis was worse than usual—a .crude German boor who had never tried to learn English and had no love for England, the country she hoped he would one day rule; followed by George Augustus, who really had some sense since he had managed to make friends with a number of English people and had married a very sensible wife whom Sophia was sure would guide him through any difficulties which lay ahead.

Something must happen soon. Queen Anne could not live for ever.

Caroline came to her apartments accompanied by one of Sophia's women, the Countess von Pickenbourg.

"I thought you might care to take a walk," said Caroline.

"Excellent idea," replied Sophia. "As you know full well I'm always ready for that. If people walked more then we would enjoy better health." She rose smiling. She would finish the letter later. "I have lived so long because I have walked every day in the fresh air ... never as a task, mind you, but always as a pleasure. Give me your arm, Caroline, my dear."

Caroline obeyed and the Countess stood on the other side of the Electress.

"Let us walk in the orangery," said Sophia. "I always enjoyed the orangery, and I think it is particularly beautiful on a summer's evening."

As they came into the orangery, Sophia began to talk, as usual of England.

"I should like to know what the people of England think of Anne's refusal to invite us. Surely they would wish to see us there."

"The Queen's health is even worse than usual, so I believe," replied Caroline. "But she has been on the point of death so many times."

"Poor soul!" sighed Sophia. "I am sorry for her. Hers has scarcely been a happy life. As a girl she was so delicate. Why, when her sister Mary was being married to Orange, she was on the point of death through the smallpox. She has faced death so many times that she must be prepared. How grateful / am for my good health. I hope death, when it comes for me, will snuff me out like a candle. That's the best way."

"I believe it to be the best way," agreed Caroline. "What a pity we cannot all choose our way of going. But the subject is a morbid one. If Marlborough were here he might be able to give us some news, although I confess I don't altogether trust Marlborough."

"There are very few one can trust, alas," said Sophia. "I am fortunate to have you here with me, my dear. I can talk openly to you of these matters which are of such importance to us all. I only wish I could feel so confident of everyone. These are difficult times ... and full of significance for our house. Once I am in England everything will be so different. How I long to be there! "

"It can't be long now," said Caroline.

"Perhaps Your Highness would care to sit a while," suggested the Countess.

"No, I prefer to walk. As I have often told you there is nothing so good for the health as walking. What a beautiful day it has been."

Sophia was silent suddenly for through the greenery she had caught a glimpse of George Lewis walking in the gardens with Schulemburg on one side and Kielmansegge on the other.

She sighed. "What a spectacle! Are there two more unattractive women at this Court. But I suppose when they first became his mistresses they were more attractive."

"The Elector is faithful, according to some standards," replied Caroline.

"I prefer the tall malken to the fat hen. The first is at least faithful to him. I don't understand my son. I never did since he was three years old. Sometimes I think he is a clever man, at others a fool."

"There are so many different sides to all of us," said Caroline; and she was thinking of Sophia—so discreet at Hanover, so reckless in her correspondence with Elizabeth Charlotte; so restrained in the matters concerning the Court of Hanover; so transparent in those concerning the Court of St. James's. A woman with a single purpose-—to be Queen of England. Perhaps that was the explanation of every action.

"Take care," said Caroline, suddenly realizing that Sophia was growing very breathless. "You are going too fast."

"I daresay I am," replied Sophia.

"Your Highness," began the Countess and stopped for Sophia had swayed towards her. Between them the Countess and Caroline caught her.

"Help me to get her to a chair," said Caroline quickly; but even as she spoke she felt the Electress's body limp in her arms.

Tenderly they lowered her to the ground; she lay back, an odd pallor in her cheeks, her eyes turning glassy.

"Call for help ... quickly," cried Caroline; and the Countess ran out of the orangery into the grounds.

As Caroline knelt beside Sophia a terrible desolation came to her. "Can you ... speak to me ..." she whispered.

Sophia's glassy eyes were on her face ... fixed ... lifeless.

You must get well, thought Caroline. I can't lose you as well.

George Lewis had come into the orangery. Caroline was aware of the startled faces of his two mistresses, but all that was admirable in George Lewis was uppermost on an occasion such as this.

Without showing the least sign of agitation he knelt beside his mother and felt her pulse. Then he sent one of the guards to bring him some poudre d'or. "Quickly," he said. "There may be time."

Caroline brought a cushion and placed it under Sophia's head.

"When did it happen?" asked George Lewis.

"Quite suddenly. We were walking and talking ... and suddenly she fell."

George Lewis nodded and said no more and a few minutes later the guard returned with the poudre d'or which George Lewis forced into her mouth.

"It may revive her," said Caroline.

"If it is not too late," replied George Lewis, in a flat unemotional voice.

What was he thinking? wondered Caroline. How much did he feel for his mother? Did he recognize her virtues or had she been to him nothing but an interfering old woman? Whatever he felt George Lewis would not betray it.

The physician had arrived. Kneeling beside the Electress and looking from George Lewis to Caroline he said: "There is nothing we can do."

"So she's dead," said George Lewis, final, matter of fact.

"I fear so. Your Highness."

"It can't be so," began Caroline; but George Lewis ignored her.

"She should be carried into the palace," he said.

So the body of Sophia was carried into the palace which she had loved beyond all others. Queen Anne lived on, but Sophia, whose great ambition had been to succeed her, had been as she herself would have said 'snuffed out like a candle'.

No one mourned Sophia as sincerely as Caroline. Not since the death of Sophia Charlotte had she felt so desolate. It was true that now she was married and had her own children; but the Electress had been like a mother to her and she had loved her dearly.

Now there was no one to share her liberal ideas, no one to whom she could turn for advice.

She was very melancholy but after a while she became philosophical. Nothing ever stood still. The Electress Sophia, like her daughter Sophia Charlotte, had taught Caroline invaluable lessons, and she would best preserve their memory by profiting from them.

Yet the gap left by Sophia's death was immeasurable. The children were too young to be of much help to her. George Augustus? She had long since learned that she could expect little from him. She must however be grateful to the Electress who had taught her how to govern without seeming to, how to win through secret diplomacy.

"I shall never forget," said Caroline. "Never."

July was an uneasy month. Rumours came thick and fast from England. Queen Anne could not live much longer.

George Lewis shrugged his shoulders. He was not deeply concerned. He had no wish to go to England; Hanover was good enough for him.

"If the English showed any sign of not wanting me," he said, "I would show them very clearly that I did not want them."

He had thought of being King of England at some future date; but Sophia's death had placed him in the direct line.

To go to England would be a great upheaval, and at fifty, if one were not an ambitious man, such disturbances were to be avoided.

"The English!" he said. "Bah! It is not long since they lopped the head off one King, and that King's son was sent into exile. What sort of people are they?"

If it had been her burning desire to be Queen of England, George Lewis's might be said to be to stay in Hanover.

During the first days of August James Craggs came riding breathlessly to Hanover; before even seeing his mistress, the Countess von Platen, he presented himself to her protector, George Lewis.

"This really is the end, Your Highness," he assured him. "The Queen is dying. Indeed I am ready to stake my life she is already dead."

George Lewis looked at the young man—one whom he regarded as his own kind—bucolic and shrewd without any fancy manners; the fact that he was the lover of George Lewis's mistress was a further bond between them.

George Lewis thanked James Craggs and told him that he appreciated his loyalty and James went to his mistress and told her that soon they would all be in England.

George Lewis retired early and alone. It had come; he was sure of it. It would be an entirely new life. He would have to go to England—but he could postpone that; he would become ruler of a country of some standing in the world. Different, as his mother had often pointed out, from a little German state.

But, George Lewis promised himself, even though I may have to reside in England, I shall frequently visit Hanover. Hanover is my own country. I shall never forget that—nor shall the English.

He settled himself to sleep.

George Lewis was aroused out of his sleep.

"What hour is it?" he demanded.

"Two o'clock. Your Highness."

"Then what is the meaning of this."

Before his servant could reply he was aware of a man at his bedside whom he recognized as Lord Clarendon Envoy Extraordinary from England.

He did not like Clarendon whom the Queen had sent to Hanover, because as first cousin to Anne he had worked entirely for the Queen, and George Lewis had always regarded him as a kind of spy. Moreover he knew that Clarendon had not been in favour of the Hanoverian succession and was at heart a Jacobite; so, having been awakened at two o'clock in the morning by a man whom he disliked, who had come to tell him something which he knew already, this disturbance did not give him great pleasure.

"Clarendon," he said, raising himself on his elbow. "What's this. Clarendon?"

"The Queen is dead. Sire. Long live George the First of England Scotland and Ireland."

George Lewis grunted.

"Your Majesty, I await your commands," said Clarendon.

"You'd better stay in Hanover till I leave," said George.

"Yes, Your Majesty. And for the moment?"

"Leave me," said George Lewis and settling down into his bed, promptly fell asleep.

Thus George Lewis, Elector of Hanover, had become George the First of England.