Sophia Dorothea was apprehensive, for Ernest Augustus had always been lenient towards her; he had never hated her as George Lewis did, and had not felt vindictive towards her, but kept her imprisoned because it was politic to do so. George Lewis might keep her a prisoner for revenge.
Sophia Dorothea wrote to him begging to be allowed to see her children; her letters were ignored.
But the death of Ernest Augustus brought a great blessing into Sophia Dorothea’s life, for the Duchess of Celle refused any longer to be kept from her daughter; and confronting her husband, she told him that with or without permission she was going to her daughter.
George William who sighed often for the old days of happiness at Celle which he knew could never come back because Eléonore had ceased to love him and could only despise him for his conduct towards their daughter, now put no obstacle in her way and great was the joy of Sophia Dorothea when her mother came to Ahlden.
After the first almost unbearably emotional encounter they talked together and planned for the future.
‘Nothing now shall keep us apart,’ declared the Duchess. ‘I shall visit you regularly and we will find some way out of this trouble.’
‘Dearest Maman,’ replied Sophia Dorothea, ‘this is the happiest day of my life since …’
‘There,’ said the Duchess. ‘No more tears. This is a happy event. I must tell you the news about Knesebeck.’
‘Poor Knesebeck. I heard they had arrested her too.’
‘Poor child, yes. She was sent to Schwarzfels and imprisoned there. But that sister of hers, Frau von Metsch, is a bold woman. As soon as she learned where her sister was she determined to bring her out of prison. Poor Knesebeck was harshly treated – ill fed, ill clothed and kept in a cold dreary cell. The poor child must have been half demented. You know what she was for excitement. The prison is half a ruin, but this turned out to be fortunate, for when the roof collapsed a tiler was sent to repair it. Frau von Metsch offered the tiler a reward if he would help and while repairing the roof he lowered a rope down to Knesebeck which she tied about her waist; he then hauled her up and lowered her down the wall to freedom.’
‘My dear, dear Knesebeck! Was all well with her?’
‘Yes. Once free she made her way to Wolfenbüttel where they were only too glad to help her. George Lewis was horrified because at first it was believed she had been spirited away and the people were angry and said that George Lewis was being shown the error of his conduct. When he heard she was in Wolfenbüttel he was furious and doubled the guard here at Ahlden because he was afraid someone would attempt to rescue you.’
‘I hope she will be happy there.’
‘She misses you. She talks constantly of you all the time, how ill-treated you have been; she says that she will never cease to proclaim your innocence and call attention to the cruelty of George Lewis.’
‘It is good to have friends.’
‘Knesebeck will always be that. She was indiscreet; she was impulsive and I always feared she urged you to recklessness; but she will always be loyal.’
How quickly those visits passed, but there was the next to look forward to and they became the highlights of their lives.
In the next few years two events occurred to cheer Sophia Dorothea. Her son, George Augustus, coached by his grandmother the Duchess of Celle, became the champion of his mother, a state of affairs which enraged George Lewis and made him very harsh and unfriendly towards his son. Their relationship was impaired from that time and there was active dislike between them. George Augustus resembled his mother; he was handsome and had inherited her beautiful eyes. One day when he was out hunting he escaped from the company and rode with all speed to Ahlden, where he demanded that the drawbridge be lowered, and when the Governor asked who he was he called in a loud voice: ‘I am the Crown Prince of Hanover come to see my mother.’
‘The Governor refused to lower the drawbridge but the young Prince stood his ground and Sophia Dorothea came out to a balcony and for a long time mother and son stood gazing at each other.
‘I shall never never forget you!’ called George Augustus. ‘I shall always fight for your cause.’
And Sophia Dorothea stood, blinded by the tears which dimmed her vision of him.
‘But very soon the rest of the company came riding after him and he was put under restraint and taken back to Hanover to be severely punished by his father.
‘But it was an occasion to be remembered in a sad and lonely life.
‘French and Polish troops invaded the country and came close to Ahlden, and the Duchess of Celle declared that her daughter was unsafe there and implored George William to write to the Elector and tell him that his daughter was being brought to Celle where her family would keep her in captivity.
‘George William hesitated, but Eléonore was firm and at last he relented.
‘That was a day of mingling happiness and sorrow. To stand in the old rooms where she had known such joy – to be home … as she had always longed to be.
‘But she was still a prisoner and George William would not see her.
‘Do not fret, Maman,’ said Sophia Dorothea. ‘For I feel that to see him would only bring pain to us both. I prefer to remember the good papa of my childhood whom I loved and trusted. He changed towards me on that dreadful birthday … and I do not want to think of him as he is now.’
‘So they tried to make the most of this respite; and the Duchess pampered her daughter and sought in every way to make her happy.
‘If I could have my children with me here at Celle, I could happily spend the rest of my days with you, Maman,’ she said.
But of course such happiness could not last. George Lewis did not care to have her so close. Moreover, the people at Celle knew she was there and they demonstrated their affection for her.
‘Don’t trust that Frenchwoman,’ warned the Duchess Sophia.
Sophia Dorothea must return to Ahlden, commanded George Lewis.
‘She is too ill,’ replied the Duchess of Celle. ‘I must nurse her back to health.’
Duchess Sophia at that time became obsessed by one idea. The little Duke of Gloucester, the son of the Princess Anne, had died; now between her and the throne of England there was only Anne, for she did not believe that the English would ever have the son of Catholic James to be their King. She referred to herself as the Heiress of England. William was a sick man; Anne had to be carried almost everywhere on account of her gout and dropsy. Neither of them could produce an heir. ‘I shall die happy yet,’ declared Sophia.
So the time passed and Sophia Dorothea spent a year in Celle, although during that time she never spoke to her father – nor did she see him. And then George Lewis would listen to no more excuses.
She must go back to Ahlden.
That stay in Celle had affected George William deeply. He had felt cut off from his wife and daughter and because Sophia Dorothea was in her old home, because he heard the sound of voices in her old apartments – and sometimes laughter – he brooded on the happiness of the long-ago days when there was no one in his life who mattered to him but his wife.
She was beautiful still – but how remote. He remembered how her eyes used to shine when she smiled at him. Now her gaze was cold. She had said she would never forgive him for the manner in which he had behaved towards their daughter, and she meant it. He felt lonely. Ernest Augustus, the brother for whom he had had a special affection, was dead; and as the years passed he saw how much happier he would have been if he had behaved differently. No longer did he discuss with Eléonore the affairs of Celle; she was aloof and expressed no interest in them. For days he never saw her, yet he was deeply aware of her; and some occasions when he felt particularly old and weak and the melancholy settled on him, he wished that he could go back to that birthday morning now more than twenty years ago when because of his weakness he had ruined his own happiness and that of his wife and daughter.