He looked a little disgruntled to find her on time because he had hoped to scold her for being late; however, he would soon find something of which to complain.
Lady Sundon looked after them as they left the apartment. She was very worried about the Queen’s health.
* * *
Caroline tried to fight off the feelings of fatigue—and, more trying still, the nagging pain.
It has worsened, there was no doubt of that; but she would not admit it. Far stronger than any discomfort was the urgent desire that no one should know.
So she smiled and pretended she was well and meekly accepted the King’s perpetual scolding.
But there were times when it was almost impossible to go on doing this.
One of these occasions occurred one morning when the King had been particularly unkind. She had borne all his complaints patiently and only the slight flush in her cheeks and the rather nervous movement of her hands betrayed her emotion.
Lord Hervey was in attendance with the Princesses and, as the King was about to leave for his own apartments, she could not hold the words which rose to her lips.
‘As Sir Robert Walpole has always been a particular friend of mine,’ she said, ‘and as he seems to be the only person at Court who is in Your Majesty’s good graces, I think I shall ask him to speak to Your Majesty on my behalf in the hope that he can persuade you to soften your treatment of me.’
The King stopped and stared at her. The whites of his eyes seemed to turn red.
‘I do not know what you mean by these complaints,’ he said.
The Queen merely smiled, which made the King grow more angry; but even he was aware of the worsening of his temper since his return from Hanover; and his anger took the form of self-pity.
‘I am ill,’ he said, ‘and I believe nobody is in the same good humour sick as well. And if I were well, do you think I should not feel and show some uneasiness for having left a place where I was pleased and happy all day long and being come to one where I am incessantly crossed and plagued?’
The Queen was suddenly stung to a retort which astonished all those who heard it.
‘If Your Majesty was so happy at Hanover why did you not stay there? I see no reason that made your coming to England necessary. You might have continued there without coming to torment yourself and us, since your pleasure did not call you. I am sure your business did not, for we could have done that just as well without you, and you could have pleased yourself without us.’
The King was so astonished at this outburst that he could think of no retort.
He was trembling with rage as he stalked out of the room.
Later Lord Hervey discussed the incident with the Queen.
‘Your Majesty has endured so much that it was time you said what you did.’
‘I fear I have shocked him deeply.’
‘Madam, is it not time that he was shocked deeply?’
‘I think he is a little repentant. He is much quieter. And he has promised me some fine horses for my coach. He says they are some of the finest he has ever seen.’
‘He must have brought them from Hanover.’
‘He did.’
‘Where,’ went on Lord Hervey, ‘horses like everything else in that paradise are much finer than they are in this poor island.’
The Queen laughed. ‘I hope you do not let him hear you talk thus.’
‘He would think I was showing good sense ... for once. But, Madam, why has he given you these horses? Firstly to show you how much finer Hanover horses are than English ones; and secondly that you may have the expense of feeding them.’
‘You are wicked, mon enfant. But what I should do without you to make me laugh in these trying times I do not know.’
The Prince’s Bride
THE Prince of Wales was the only member of the Court and royal family who escaped the King’s bad temper. George’s attitude to his son had not changed since his return from Hanover because he had ignored him before he went away and continued to ignore him.
Frederick was delighted that he was to marry. He had always believed that marriage would give him the status he needed, and as he was nearly thirty it seemed ridiculous that a man in his position should be denied a wife.
He was becoming more and more truculent. In the old days he had been a mild young man, intent only on pleasure; but his relationship with Bolingbroke and Chesterfield had changed that.
Bolingbroke had now left England. He had given up the fight. He had hoped for a time to oust Walpole from his position and take his place, but it had become increasingly obvious that this was something he could not do. Lady Suffolk had been his friend and had kept him informed of certain happenings at Court, and now she had retired another avenue had been cut off. Bolingbroke had always spent a great deal of time with writers; he had enjoyed their company and patronized many of them by allowing them to earn a living writing for him. Now he believed that there was nothing in England for him, so he decided to retire to France where he owned Chanteloup, a beautiful château in Touraine. Here he said he would devote himself to literature, for his part on the stage of English politics was over and the man who remained on the stage after that deserved to be hissed off.
So to France he had gone and the Prince felt his loss, but he decided that he was able to manage his own affairs; and now that he was to have a wife he would do what Bolingbroke had told him he should : demand that he be paid an income commensurate not only with his title of Prince of Wales, but as a husband.
He was delighted at the prospect of a young bride. He greatly admired Lady Archibald Hamilton who was a very different mistress from Anne Vane; but he felt that if he had a pretty young girl as a wife and a handsome, clever woman as a mistress he would be very well served.
He had been very willing to promise Lady Archibald Hamilton a place in his wife’s entourage. She should be a lady of the bedchamber, he told her, and there be able to guide the Princess in all that she should know.
Lady Archibald expressed herself willing to take on this responsibility; and she was clearly delighted that the Prince should offer it.
Caroline, hearing of the arrangement, asked her son to come and see her, and when he came she immediately brought up the subject.
‘You cannot allow your mistress to be one of your wife’s bedchamber women. It will not be fair to the Princess Augusta.’
‘It will be ideal for her,’ retorted the Prince. ‘Lady Archibald Hamilton will be a ...’
‘A mother to her?’ asked the Queen slyly.
She will be a good friend to her.’
‘I doubt whether your wife will want the friendship of your mistress.’
She is to be one of the ladies-in-waiting. I have arranged it.’
‘I do not think the King will allow it.’ ‘This is my wife’s household.’
‘This is the King’s Court.’
‘And if I appoint her, what do you propose to do about it?’
‘The King could dismiss her. He could even retire the lady from Court.’
The Prince was startled. He had powerful enemies, Chesterfield had told him that. Walpole was his enemy and Walpole had great power. One never knew what that man would do if he and the King and Queen put their heads together.
‘You think to use me as you will,’ he mumbled. ‘I wish you would speak up,’ said the Queen.
‘There is the matter of my allowance,’ he began.
She looked astonished and replied: ‘I thought we were discussing your wife’s household. But let me tell you this: If the King is displeased with that you will never get an increased allowance.’
The Prince bit his lip in rage.
‘I have promised Lady Archibald Hamilton ...’
The Queen interrupted, ‘Your wife will have four main ladies-in-waiting. I suggest that the three appointments which have been put forward and which do not include the lady in question be granted; let the other remain open and when the Princess arrives, if you can persuade her tha
t Lady Archibald Hamilton is the best possible choice then let the lady have the post. But I am sure you will agree that in such circumstances it is your wife who should decide.’
The Prince hesitated. This was a way out. He would have to explain to Lady Archibald who would readily understand; and when Augusta came—young Augusta who was only a girl—he would quickly make her do what he wanted her to. The position was safe for his mistress.
‘Then that matter is settled,’ said the Queen; and he did not deny it, for at that moment the King came into the Queen’s drawing room and gave the Prince his now familiar stare which Lord Hervey had said made one feel the Prince was a ghost invisible to the King.
‘Why are you not wearing your cloak,’ said the King to the Queen. ‘We shall be two minutes late for our walk.’
* * *
Sir Robert came to see the Queen and he was very grave. ‘I have just made an alarming discovery,’ he said. ‘The King has promised to return to Hanover in May.’
‘You mean he has promised Madame de Walmoden.’
‘That is so. She has given birth to a boy which she will assure the King is his.’
‘And you have reason to doubt that it is his?’
‘Two reasons and many grave doubts.’
‘I know the lady has a husband.’
‘And His Majesty is not her only lover, although of course she deludes him into thinking he is.’
‘I fear he is easily deluded.’
‘As we have found to our advantage in the past, Madam. But we are not in the past now, and we have the future to consider.’
‘What do you propose?’
‘To use every means at my disposal to prevent the King’s going to Hanover.’
‘And if he is determined?’
Sir Robert lifted his shoulders. ‘Who can say?’
‘He went before, when you and Parliament wished him to stay.’
‘But you wished him to go and so were against us on that occasion.’
‘There are often times when I wish he had stayed there.’ ‘Oh, he will continue to be trying while this passion for that far-off lady obsesses him.’
‘Is there no way of breaking that spell?’
‘Lady Deloraine is a very pretty woman and he does show interest.’
‘But I still think he yearns for Hanover.’
‘We must stop his going, for the longer he stays away from her the more likely he is to forget her.’
‘He could not leave when the Prince will shortly be married.’
‘No. If we can arrange that marriage for June he will certainly not go in May.’
‘There seems to be some fixed idea in his mind that he must go in May.’
‘Then we will have the Prince’s marriage after May.’ Sir Robert smiled slyly and Caroline wondered if he had instructed Lord Delaware, who had been sent to Saxe-Gotha to negotiate for the Princess Augusta, not to hurry the matter.
* * *
The King was growing angry. The beginning of April and still negotiations hung fire His temper grew sharper than ever, and everyone felt the brunt of it, but more especially the Queen.
If Lady Suffolk had still retained her old position it would have eased matters, for he would have been spending that evening session with her which he now spent with the Queen. Lucky Lady Suffolk, peaceful in the country with old George Berkeley who, although he might not be handsome or rich, was devoted to her and determined to make her retirement happy. How she would have suffered if she had been at the Court at this time! As much as I do, thought the Queen. But she is not here, lucky woman, and I must bear the full brunt.
He would join her in her drawing room at nine o’clock exactly when her children were with her; and she always managed to have her Chamberlain in attendance, for what she would have done without dear Lord Hervey at this time she could not say.
She would sit knotting—anything to employ her fingers—waiting for the time to pass while George would sit scowling as he contemplated his dislike of all things English, or smiling now and then as his thoughts flitted to Hanover and the delectable Madame de Walmoden. His silences were preferable to his outbursts, but alas they were not usually of very long duration. And after half an hour or so he would usually leave them to retire to his own apartments to write to Madame de Walmoden. Caroline imagined those letters; he would tell her every detail. He was a great letter-writer as she always knew from those times when he was away from her.
She was tired because that day she had been visiting the house of one of the noblemen of the Court. She knew how these visits were appreciated not only by the mistress and master of the house, but by the servants to whom she was always gracious. She looked upon them as a duty and an extremely enjoyable one.
While the King sat smiling dreamily into the past, she mentioned to Lord Hervey that she was visiting again tomorrow, and she would need money as she had given away all she had to the servants at the house she visited on this day.
‘They were so delighted,’ she said, ‘when I complimented them on my excellent dinner; and it was a great pleasure to see the new pictures they have. Their picturure gallery is one of the finest I have seen. I told them that you would doubtless be very interested. You will shortly receive an invitation.’
Lord Hervey replied that he had heard of that collection and he was waiting for the opportunity to inspect it.
The King did not appear to be listening and the Queen said with a laugh, ‘I have just been looking at The Craftsman. Did you see, my lord, that they have attacked me for making Merlin’s Cave? They must be short of scandal to turn their attention to that.’
The King came out of his pleasant reverie and seemed angry to find himself in a less rosy world.
‘I am very glad to hear it,’ he said. ‘You deserve to be abused for such childish, silly stuff. It’s the first time I’ve ever known that scoundrelly Craftsman right.’
There was silence; the Princess Caroline looked as though she were about to burst into tears, the Princess Amelia merely scornful, while the Duke of Cumberland stared at the tips of his shoes in embarrassment.
‘I mean it,’ shouted the King. ‘What a silly idea! What figures? What next. And books ...! Who wants books? I am surprised Walpole advanced the money for such folly.’
‘The people enjoy it, sir,’ said Lord Hervey, who always made a point of coming to the Queen’s rescue, particularly as he realized that the King did not object to this. It was a strange thing, but through all his criticism of the Queen, George’s fondness for her was apparent. His snubbing her came from his familiarity; and when she was looking tired he grew more angry than ever, perhaps because secretly in his heart he was worried on account of her health. Much as he longed to be in Hanover with his mistress, he wanted to think of Caroline, his wife, in her place waiting for him, never changing towards him no matter how badly he behaved. And Lord Hervey with his peculiar perception was aware of this; and although his own motives were mixed and were born of a genuine affection for the Queen he was always conscious that in protecting her in her skirmishes with the King he did no harm to himself.
‘A lot of fools playing childish silly games with a lot of silly waxworks ... and books. Books!’ He spat out the word as though it described objects of the utmost contempt. The Queen went on knotting quickly. There were tears in her eyes, which was unusual, but she felt tired and ill and the pain was nagging and she thought: I’m so tired of this. Let him go back to Hanover ... anywhere, but out of my life.
The King saw her lowered head and construed this as indifference, so he went on : ‘And giving money to servants when you visit. What silly, childish games!’
The Queen murmured quietly but defiantly that it had always been the custom to reward servants when one visited their employers’ houses. ‘Is that not so, my lord?’ she asked Lord Hervey.
‘It is true, Your Majesty,’ said Lord Hervey. ‘It has always been the custom for the King or the Queen to distribute such largesse. It is expected and w
ould be noticed with great disfavour if it were not done.’
‘Then the Queen should stay at home as I do. You don’t see me running into every puppy’s house to see his chairs and stools. I stay at home. Nor is it for you, Madam, to be running your nose everywhere and trotting about the town to every fellow that will give you some bread and butter, like an old girl that loves to go abroad no matter whether it be proper or not.’
Continuing to knot, the Queen made no answer, but her fingers faltered and the thread became tangled and her efforts to untangle it were fruitless. She held it nearer the candle and in doing so snuffed out one of them.
‘Why must you be so awkward?’ demanded the King. ‘Why can’t you sit quietly as I do. Why must you always be doing that silly, childish stuff....’
He rose suddenly and stumped out of the room. It was ten minutes before his usual time to retire. A bad sign when he began breaking habits.
Caroline knew where he had gone.
It was to his own apartments to write a long sixty-page letter to Madame de Walmoden, telling how he longed to be in Hanover and that he would soon be there in spite of them all.
* * *
‘Sir,’ said Walpole, ‘you cannot go to Hanover until after the marriage of the Prince of Wales.’
‘Well, where is this bride of his? Why is her coming postponed?’
‘In a matter of this sort negotiations always take a little time, Your Majesty.’
‘A little time! I tell you I have made up my mind to go to Hanover in May and nothing ... nothing is going to stop me.’
‘But the Prince of Wales’s marriage, sir ...’
‘I don’t care about the Prince of Wales’s marriage. He can go without a marriage. He can have a marriage without me. But I am going to Hanover in May. And you may try to stop me, but you won’t succeed.’
Walpole saw that the King was a man bemused. There was no point in delaying tactics. In fact they must be hurried on, for clearly the King would become more unpopular than ever if he could not attend his son’s marriage because he had gone off to visit his mistress.
Caroline the Queen Page 34
