Caroline the Queen

by Виктория Холт

  ‘I think,’ said the Queen coolly, ‘that you may have something to tell me.’

  ‘I ... Your Majesty?’

  She was feigning innocence, but she knew very well what the Queen was hinting.

  ‘It would have been better if you had told me yourself,’ said the Queen. ‘When do you expect your confinement?’

  Anne gave a little gasp, but she was not really frightened. This was no ordinary indiscretion. She had the honour of being mistress to the Prince of Wales.

  ‘Oh ... Madam!’

  Charlotte Clayton was frankly listening now, her lips pursed in disgust.

  ‘It is no use attempting to disguise the truth,’ said the Queen. ‘I cannot allow you to remain at Court. I asked you when your child is expected to be born.’

  ‘There are ... another three months, Your Majesty.’ ‘Well, it is time you were going.’

  ‘His Highness ...’

  ‘You may make your preparations immediately.’ ‘Madam, if His ...’

  ‘Pray go at once to your apartment and prepare to leave. You must return to your home without delay.’ The Queen turned to Charlotte. She might as well make use of her since she was here. ‘Mrs Clayton will see that you obey my orders without delay.’

  ‘Madam ...’ began Anne Vane.

  But Charlotte had taken the girl by the arm and was leading her very forcibly from the apartment.

  * * *

  Anne ordered the carriage to go to La Trappe at Hammersmith.

  There she was welcomed by Mrs Behan to whom she told the story of her dismissal.

  ‘Wait till George comes,’ advised Mrs Behan. ‘He will know what to do.’

  He did. He went himself to the Prince of Wales to tell him what had happened and as a result Frederick came riding to La Trappe.

  Anne threw herself weeping into his arms. She had been ignobly turned out of the Court. They were all against him and so against her for they knew how she adored him.

  Frederick, who was growing more and more resentful as he grew more and more in debt, agreed with her that the way she had been treated was a slight on him. But they must think what they were going to do.

  ‘I can’t go home,’ cried Anne. ‘What can I do. And I can’t stay here. Oh, my Prince, what have we done.’

  Frederick consoled her. He was delighted that they were going to have a child. She must not have any fears. He would look after her.

  ‘But where can I go?’ she asked.

  Dodington suggested that the Prince might like to set her up in a house of her own. No one could prevent that; and there she could live in peace and comfort with her child.

  ‘That’s the answer! ‘ said Frederick; and Anne agreed with him.

  ‘I know of a house in Soho Square which would be ideal,’ Mrs Behan told them. ‘Anne can stay here until she is settled in, and she and I will go and look at it tomorrow.’

  The Prince was very grateful to his kind friends; and the next day Anne Vane and Mrs Behan went to see the house which enchanted them both.

  The Prince liked it too. It was expensive, but he never worried about money until the bills were presented to him; and who was going to worry about supplying the needs of the Prince of Wales?

  The house was fitted out with the finest furniture and plate until it was almost as grande as La Trappe.

  Frederick was delighted and promised Anne £1,600 a year. So the entire matter was settled to the satisfaction of Anne and the Prince, for Dodington allowed him to win £5,000 from him at the gaming table to pay for the initial costs.

  This was most convenient and everyone concerned was delighted; except Lord Hervey, who realized that Anne Vane’s position was slightly more secure than it had been before.

  * * *

  Anne Vane began to give herself airs. She was now the acknowledged mistress of the Prince of Wales; she went about proudly proclaiming her condition and making no attempt to hide it.

  It was useless for Hervey to make wry jokes about the mystery surrounding her condition. We all know what, he commented, but only Miss Vane can tell us who.

  Anne resented this deeply, for secretly she had admired him more than any of her lovers and she had worked against him by bringing Dodington to Frederick’s notice because she had been wounded at his desertion.

  She was at great pains however to hide her feelings for Hervey and show her affection to the Prince whom she must, at all costs, keep her devoted lover.

  And when, at a reception in the Prince’s apartments, Hervey happened to be present and they came face to face, he bowed ironically with a mischievous look in his eyes. Dearly she would have liked to stop and talk to him, but instead she affected not to see him and by sweeping past him with the air of a very great lady she managed to humiliate him.

  Hervey was a man who could not bear humiliation. It called forth all the spite and malice in him.

  He went to Stephen to tell him about his fury.

  ‘If that silly little slut thinks she can snub me she is mistaken.’

  ‘She is not worth a thought from you.’

  ‘I was aware of the titters.’

  ‘People like to titter.’

  ‘Particularly when they see others ridiculed.’

  ‘Oh come, my dear, it could not have been as bad as that.’

  ‘I shall not allow it, and I know how to frighten her.’ ‘Leave her alone, John, my dear. No good can come of wasting time on such a silly creature.’

  ‘If foolish Fred knew that that child she so proudly carries could have been fathered by at least three of us he might not be so eager to accept it as his.’

  ‘Leave well alone, dear John.’

  Hervey smiled at his friend, but he was not going to leave well alone.

  No one should insult him with impunity.

  He wrote a letter addressed to Anne Vane which he asked a friend to deliver to her apartments.

  The young man was a little reluctant, knowing of the discord between Hervey and the Prince’s mistress, and told Hervey that he had no wish to be caught up in a quarrel between them.

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Hervey. ‘We are not really bad friends. That was a bit of play-acting for the sake of the Prince. He’s a jealous young man, you know. I have heard of ‘an excellent midwife and I want her to know of this. My dear fellow, you’ll earn her gratitude if you take this note along to her.’

  He smiled ruefully as his friend went off with the note. He always felt relieved when he put his emotions on paper.

  Anne Vane took the letter and as she read it let out a gasp of horror. No one could write as colourfully as Hervey when he had a mind to it and he had set down, with all the invective and venom of his nature and literary skill, what he would tell the Prince of his mistress. He would open Frederick’s eyes to the woman who had deceived him. He would let him know that the child he so fondly fathered might well be the child of a triumvirate. Anne Vane had deceived him cleverly and Hervey was going to let him know.

  Anne grew pale; she was terrified; the letter fluttered from her hand; she fell to the ground and lay there as though dead.

  The young messenger wondered why the friendly note from Hervey telling her the name of a good midwife should have upset her, so he knelt beside her and seeing that she was in a faint read the letter. He was horrified. Anne Vane was in a precarious condition, if anything happened to her he might be blamed.

  He called to Anne’s maids and they soon revived her. She lay moaning on a sofa and he knelt beside her imploring her forgiveness telling her that he had been misled by Hervey, that he had no idea what the note contained.

  ‘Lies! ‘ moaned Anne. ‘All lies.’

  ‘I’ll call him out for this. He swore to me that it was a friendly note recommending a midwife.’

  ‘You must not fight with him.’

  ‘But I shall,’ declared the young man. ‘He deceived me.’

  Anne Vane entreated the young man but his mind was made up, and while they were talking one of her servant
s had sent a message to the Prince telling him that his mistress had been taken very ill. So Frederick came riding to Soho Square with all speed to find Anne reclining on the sofa with a young man pacing up and down the room swearing revenge on Hervey.

  Anne held out her arms to the Prince who embraced her.

  ‘It is terrible ... terrible!’ she cried. ‘Lord Hervey nearly brought about my death.’

  The Prince was very angry and demanded to know exactly what had happened.

  Anne told how the young man had been sent with the note.

  ‘I swear, your Highness,’ interjected the young man, ‘that Lord Hervey told me the note merely recommended a midwife.’

  ‘And where is the note?’

  ‘Oh, it is dreadful ... dreadful! ‘ cried Anne, but she had become alert and she called to one of her old servants who had been with her for many years. ‘Where is that wicked letter?’ she asked.

  The woman looked as confused as Anne could have wished and declared that she had destroyed it because she had thought it unfit to be looked at by anyone ... such a pack of cruel wicked lies it was, that anyone who knew Mistress Vane would have thought it only proper to do what she had done—and that was burn it.

  Anne was relieved and fell fainting into her lover’s arms, but she quickly revived and then implored Frederick to prevent the young man from challenging Hervey to a duel.

  Frederick was glad to comply and the young man, now that he knew that he could not be blamed for what had happened, was also relieved.

  Frederick said: ‘I will never again have the slightest regard for that monster.’

  He meant it; and as it was impossible to keep such an event secret, soon the whole Court knew of it. It was not considered a very creditable action on Hervey’s part and as a result he found himself coldly received everywhere even in the Queen’s apartments.

  The only one who tried to make excuses for him was the Princess Caroline.

  * * *

  Hervey was still under a cloud of disapproval when Anne’s son was born. The Prince proudly acknowledged him and he was named FitzFrederick. Anne held delighted court in Soho Square and many people of standing flocked to her receptions.

  Being a father gave Frederick prestige, and men who were dissatisfied with the Walpole regime and despaired of ever receiving honours under it, were looking more and more to Frederick.

  Bolingbroke, that inveterate mischief maker, believed that this was the time to come forward and he asked a friend to arrange a meeting at his house between himself and the Prince. He wanted this to be done secretly, for he did not want Walpole to be warned that his intentions towards the Prince were beginning to take a more definite form.

  The meeting was arranged. Frederick was excited. He knew what it portended. He was growing more and more restless. How could he live in the style that was expected of a prince on the pittance his father allowed him? Why should he be continually snubbed by the King who seemed determined to treat his son as shabbily as his own father had treated him?

  Bolingbroke arrived at the house in good time and was shown into the library to await Frederick’s coming.

  He was standing up turning over the pages of a large book when Frederick entered and as he turned sharply the book fell to the floor. The Prince advanced and as he attempted to kneel Bolingbroke fell over the book.

  Frederick helped him to rise and smiling said: ‘I trust this is an omen of my succeeding in raising your fortunes.’

  A great exultation filled the adventurer at those words. It was clear to him, not only that Frederick understood the purpose of their meetings, but that he was willing and ready to allow himself to be used.

  Musical Interlude

  FREDERICK was now in opposition to Walpole and the King and Queen, with George Bubb Dodington advising him, and Pulteney, Wyndham, and Bolingbroke to support him.

  Walpole came to see the Queen privately that he might discuss this new menace with her.

  ‘The trouble is,’ said the minister, ‘that besides being personable and affable he has a grievance. The people are always ready to support those whom they think are ill done by. You will remember His Majesty’s popularity when he was in opposition to his father.’

  Caroline remembered it well.

  ‘The King is most displeased with the Prince’s conduct,’ she said.

  ‘Perhaps,’ suggested Walpole, ‘the Prince should be paid a higher income.’

  ‘The King would never hear of it. We should never be able to persuade him.’

  Walpole understood. There were more important matters for which the Queen must save her persuasive powers.

  ‘Then we must be very watchful,’ Walpole went on. ‘Particularly of Bolingbroke, who is out for trouble.’

  ‘At least if he is supporting the Prince he is not with the Jacobites.’

  ‘Your Majesty has as usual pointed out the important factor. While he is trying to stir up rebellion within the family circle he is not making trouble overseas—which could be more disastrous.’

  ‘I am beginning to think,’ said the Queen, ‘that my dear firstborn is the greatest ass and the greatest liar and the greatest canaille and the greatest beast in the whole world, and I heartily wish him out of it.’

  Walpole was taken aback. It was unlike the Queen to be unjust, and although he agreed that Frederick was an ass and had not a great respect for the truth, this was a harsh pronouncement.

  ‘He has caused nothing but trouble since he came to England,’ went on Caroline. ‘Oh, how I wish we could send him back to Hanover.’

  ‘Alas, if he were but a daughter we could marry him out of England. Now when he marries he will remain and demand an even greater status.’

  ‘He must not marry ... yet.’

  ‘We cannot allow him to remain a bachelor for ever, Madam. Remember he is the Prince of Wales.’

  ‘And he has discovered this. His teachers must have been working hard to instil a little sense into his addled pate.’

  ‘He has shrewd teachers, Madam. I would that we could have taken their place.’

  ‘Oh, he would never listen to me.’

  Walpole regarded the Queen a little sadly and wondered why it was that she who was such a shrewd woman in so many respects should have this obsessive hatred for her son. He believed that Lord Hervey was to blame for he was constantly at the Queen’s side, pouring venom into her ear; and how strange that she should listen to him to the detriment of her own son.

  The Princess Caroline was besotted about the fellow; was the Queen too?

  Fortunately Hervey was a Walpole man, otherwise the Queen’s fondness for him might be a cause for alarm.

  ‘Our brother Frederick is the biggest fool alive,’ declared the Princess Anne to her sister Amelia. ‘Do you know I dislike him even more than I do William.’

  ‘William is an arrogant little beast but I agree with you that Fred is a fool. I’d rather have William’s conceit than Fred’s folly. He is a disgrace to the family.’

  ‘I wish he’d die,’ said Anne vehemently.

  Amelia regarded her cynically. ‘What a happy family we are! One of us is always wishing the other dead. Grandfather hated Papa and Papa hated Grandfather even more. I wonder how many times Papa wished his father dead. A hundred times a day I’ll wager.’

  ‘I didn’t dislike Grandfather. He was not stupid like Papa. He was determined to be obeyed and so he should have been, for he was King; and he had his own way. The reason he didn’t take on more of the government himself was because he never really cared for England and wanted to go back and rule Hanover. Perhaps he was a fool after all. England is so much more important. Oh ... if only Fred and William were dead.’

  ‘Then,’ pointed out Amelia, ‘you would have to kill off Papa before you could be Queen.’

  ‘It would come in due course. Something to look forward to. Then I shouldn’t have to wait for a husband.’

  ‘Who is so long appearing.’

  ‘I know. Amelia, d
o you think we are going to remain single all our lives.’

  ‘It seems very probable.’

  ‘But it can’t be. Imagine when Fred is King. What will become of us?’

  ‘We shall be given a household between us and be known as the three virgins of England.’

  ‘I won’t endure it. I’d rather marry ... a baboon ... providing he were a King.’

  ‘Alas, it seems no suitors are available ... not even royal baboons. Oh, Anne, I should love to see you swinging on a tree, a crown on your head. Of one thing I’m sure, you’d swing regally.’

  ‘Don’t talk nonsense. I tell you I would willingly die tomorrow if I could be Queen of England today. And to think by a little accident I could be.’

  ‘Two little accidents. Accident Fred and Accident William.’

  ‘You don’t care like I do, Amelia.’

  ‘Well, I should have to wish for three deaths—yours included, my dear sister. I think that would be asking too much of fate. But I agree with all you say about Fred. I grudge him every hour he continues to live. I wish he’d have an accident in the hunting field or fight a duel to the death for his silly Anne Vane.’

  ‘At least you console yourself flirting with Grafton.’

  ‘You could take similar consolation. Oh, no, it would be beneath your dignity. It is a comfort. Grafton is amusing and fun to be with and we both enjoy shocking Mamma.’

  ‘Poor Mamma!’

  ‘Oh, she enjoys her conferences with Walpole and her light entertainment with Hervey. Life is not all being Papa’s docile wife who is all the time deceiving him!’

  ‘Deceiving him! ‘

  ‘Oh, only into believing he is the Deity in person, whose will is law. Only making him believe that he really thought first of what she has planted in his mind.’

  ‘You say the boldest things, Amelia.’

  ‘At least let us be bold with words if we are restricted in actions. Sometimes I wish I were not a Princess. It must be far more fun to be a lady in waiting ... like Anne Vane for instance.’