There existed at that time a strong party in England desirous that the Electress of Hanover should visit them; but she preferred to stay where she was and enjoy her books, cards, and philosophical studies with the learned Leibnitz, until she should be summoned as queen. This suited Queen Anne precisely, for she wanted no representative of the House of Hanover in her dominion. She feared the effect of their presence upon her subjects, and so used every effort in her power to keep them away. Although Sophia did not desire to go to England herself just then she was very much distressed because her son, who had been created Duke of Cambridge, was prevented from taking his seat in the House of Peers. The old lady often said that she cared not when she died, if on her tomb could be recorded that "she was Queen of Great Britain and Ireland." Queen Anne was very much offended when she heard these words, and it was to appease her anger that Tom D'Urfey wrote the verse, given in the last reign, for which he was rewarded with fifty pounds.
A.D 1714. The tomb of Electress Sophia never bore the record she sighed for, because on the 10th of June, 1714, she died, quite suddenly. The old lady had been walking in her garden for an hour, when a shower of rain came up, and she quickened her speed to get to a place of shelter. One of her attendants, observing that she was out of breath, warned her that she was exerting herself too much. "I believe I am," she replied, with a gasp, as she dropped to the earth. Those were the last words she ever uttered, for all efforts failed to restore her to consciousness.
Meanwhile Sophia Dorothea remained at her castle of Ahlden, forgotten excepting by her son-in-law, who wrote her numerous and most dutiful letters, until he succeeded in securing the inheritance of all her property for his wife beyond the shadow of a doubt. No sooner was that accomplished than he not only ceased to write, but put a stop to all communications of any sort between the mother and daughter. Thus was the prisoner, who had not seen her child for many years, deprived of the poor satisfaction of even an occasional letter from her. The daughter had managed once, with the assistance of a confederate, to convey a portrait of herself to the Princess of Ahlden, at another time a watch, then some little trinket, accompanied by a letter containing words of affection and hope; but the tyrant of a husband, Frederick William, found it out, and of course put a stop to it.
Queen Anne's death occurred shortly after that of the Electress Sophia, and the different political parties waited for her last breath, each ready to proclaim a different successor; but while the Jacobites hesitated, the Whigs were prompt to act, and the proclamation of George I. took place in the presence of a vast concourse of people.
The news was carried to the imprisoned wife by one who, while professing to be her friend, was acting as a spy. Again, it is said, was an attempt made at reconciliation on the part of George Louis; but his injured wife repeated as before: "If I am guilty I am not worthy of him; if I am innocent he is not worthy of me." Even with the prospect of going to England as queen Sophia Dorothea could not descend to her husband's level, and she never landed on the shores of that country of which she was sovereign only in name.
As soon as George I. was proclaimed, a fleet was sent to convey him to England, and he leisurely began his preparations for the voyage. Meanwhile the Pretender implored Louis XIV. to publicly acknowledge him King of England, but that sovereign was under certain engagements with the House of Hanover which prevented; and so the son of James II. was deprived of his last chance, small as it was, in the accession.
There was great excitement in London when, on the 5th of September, it was announced that George I. had arrived at the Hague. He had wept when taking leave of his Hanoverian subjects, who were really fond of him, and showed no anxiety to get to his new realm. However, he arrived at Greenwich on the 18th of September, and various officials waited on him at once. Some of them were very much disgusted at the new sovereign's discourtesy, and left him with a secret wish that the Pretender were in his place. However, it was too late to lament, so those who had received the worst treatment revenged themselves by making fun of the ugly German women who accompanied George. Among these were Ermengarda, the left-hand wife, called the Maypole, because she was so tall and lank; Madame Kielmansegge, daughter of Madame von Platen, called the elephant, because she was so fat and coarse, and their retinues.
The Londoners had been so heavily taxed on account of the dishonesty of certain public officers that so large a train of followers as George took over with him created some dissatisfaction; and once, when Madame Kielmansegge was driving out in grand style, a crowd hooted at her, whereupon she leaned out of the carriage window and said in broken English, "Vordy folks! Vy you abuse us? Ve come here for all your goots."
"Oh, yes," roared a man in the crowd, "and for our chattels, too." There was truth in the remark, for the populace groaned beneath the weight of taxation necessary to support King George's household.
Well, George I. made his public entry into London with as much splendor as ever attended such an event, and the next day he held a grand reception. His coronation took place on the twentieth of October, and all the lords attended the ceremony. Soon after Ermengarda von Schulemberg was created Duchess of Kendal, and Madame Kielmansegge was raised to the rank of Countess of Darlington.