for she entered upon her imprisonment with a certain sense of calmness and repose in contrast to the weeks and months of misery, excitement, and despair that she had endured.
A.D. 1699. Thenceforth she was known as the Princess of Ahlden, though she was the only person deprived of liberty in the place. She had a little court, and held her levees, which were attended by the officers of the town, the clergy, the nobility, and gentry. All treated her with great respect. For the first few years her captivity was not very irksome, but after the escape of Mademoiselle Knesebeck she was never allowed to walk in the gardens of the castle without a guard, or to drive through the neighboring woods without an armed mounted escort. Certain parts of the castle were even forbidden to her; and so much importance was attached to this point that, on one occasion when a fire broke out in the portion of the building where her apartments were situated, she ran to the entrance of a certain gallery, where she stood in fear and trembling, with her jewel-box in her hand, until permission from the proper authorities was obtained for her to advance.
Time did not hang so heavily on the hands of the Princess of Ahlden as one might suppose, for every hour had its occupation. She superintended her estate, overlooked, the work of each of her servants, and gave personal instructions to them, kept a diary of her thoughts and actions, wrote a number of letters, and devoted much time to charity. She was the Lady Bountiful of the district, and spent half her income in supplying the wants of the poor.
There was a church in the village in a very dilapidated condition when Sophia Dorothea went to Ahlden. She put it in thorough repair, had it handsomely decorated, and supplied it with an organ; but no sooner was it all in order than a chaplain was provided for her household, and she was forbidden to attend the place of worship that she had felt such pleasure in fitting up. This was a serious disappointment, but by no means the greatest of her trials; for she was not permitted to see any of her relations,—only an occasional open letter was allowed to pass between her and her mother, and she heard no more of her children than if they had been dead and buried. The prince and princess were forbidden to mention their mother or to think of her, and were threatened with severe punishment if ever they did so.
In course of time the heart of the old elector warmed towards the lonely prisoner of Ahlden, and he wrote her several letters; her father did likewise, but he was a weak-hearted, weak-minded man who was easily frightened into silence by certain ominous threats. He consoled himself by making a will in which he bequeathed money, jewels, and lands to his only daughter, and then left her to her fate.
A.D. 1700. There was great rejoicing at Hanover when the English Parliament fixed upon the Electress Sophia as successor to Queen Anne. The deputation that went from England to announce the welcome news was received by the highest officials, lodged in the finest palace in Hanover, and entertained in the most sumptuous manner, entirely at the expense of George Louis. Grand balls and feasts were given in their honor, and they went back home loaded with rare and costly presents.
A.D. 1705. A few years later Parliament passed an act naturalizing the Princess Sophia and her family, and this made George Louis an Englishman. Shortly after Hanover was in danger on account of the approach of the French army, and then for a brief period the captive of Ahlden was permitted to visit her parents at Zell. They wanted to keep her with them always, and she begged to be allowed to stay, but was refused. Her father had treated her so affectionately during this visit at his castle that his death, which occurred a few months after her return to Ahlden, was a severe grief to her. An occasional interview with her mother was always a solace to the prisoner, but any appeal for a sight of her children was sternly refused. That was a bitter sorrow.
Prince George Augustus had been commanded to forget his mother, but he did not obey; and one day, when he was hunting in the neighborhood of her prison, he resolved to visit her, and brave the anger of his father and the government. So he put spurs to his horse and galloped full speed toward Ahlden. His attendants were astonished, but soon suspected his intention and followed him. He went flying over the fields; but two of his followers, who were better mounted than he was, overtook him at the outskirts of the wood not far from the castle of Ahlden, and after a great deal of coaxing and argument persuaded him to go back home. Probably he was closely watched after that, for he does not seem to have made another attempt to see his mother. It is to be hoped she never knew how near he was to her that day, when a swifter steed might have been the means of adding a ray of bright sunshine to her sad and lonely existence. What would she not have given to gaze upon her boy and press him to her heart? We wonder how even her enemies could have denied her that comfort.
George Augustus was not shut up in a prison for disobedience; but, with the hope of turning his thoughts away from his mother, a wife was provided for him. Although his father had been so unfortunate as to marry a woman he never loved, he did not take the precaution to insure a better fate for his son. But we will consider his case hereafter. For the present, it is only necessary to say that he was married to Caroline, daughter of John Frederick, Margrave of Anspach,—a bright, lively, clever girl, the same age as himself.
The little court of Hanover was very gay that year, particularly when the marriage of George Augustus was followed by that of his sister, who became the wife of Frederick William, Crown Prince of Prussia. But the young Sophia Dorothea had little happiness afterwards; for her husband was a cruel brute, who governed his wife and children with a word and a blow,—the-blow generally coming first. This couple made a bridal tour to Brussels, where they remained for several days awaiting an invitation from Queen Anne to visit her in England; but they waited in vain, for her majesty took no notice of them whatever.