On the 25th of April, the Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha arrived at Greenwich. She was seventeen, very shy, and could not speak a word of English.
The royal family behaved towards her as it had to the Prince of Orange and ignored her coming. The Prince of Wales, however, went to Greenwich to meet her.
When she saw Frederick she was delighted for he exerted all his charm. He was very pleased, first because he had wanted a wife for so long and secondly because she was so young and clearly in awe of him. It was so rarely that anyone was in awe of Frederick that he appreciated this very much.
The young girl had stayed the night in Greenwich Palace and here she first saw Frederick.
He took her hands and kissed her warmly. His German was fluent and she told him that she was delighted because she was a little frightened to be among all these foreigners; but Frederick did not seem like a foreigner : when he spoke he seemed as German as she was.
Frederick said he would teach her to be English and she need have no fear of anything while he was there to protect her.
Her eyes were wide with admiration and it was very clear to all the observers that the young couple were pleased with each other.
He was not tall, but his expression was charming and he only looked sullen when he was not smiling, and he had many smiles for her; his eyes were a startling blue and his complexion fresh. She thought him very handsome although he was smaller than she was.
She had the charm of youth, and although she was tall and slender she moved rather awkwardly, never having been taught deportment, but this gaucherie pleased Frederick. He did not want a poised and too beautiful young bride.
That was a very happy meeting and Frederick told her that the royal coach would take them to Lambeth and then they would sail down to Whitehall by barge which would give her an opportunity of seeing the city of London.
She clasped her hands and said that she thought what she had seen of England was wonderful, so different from everything at home. All the people were so sumptuously dressed, and she was going to enjoy so much learning to know England and to understand the English, but just at first she was a little frightened.
There was nothing to fear, said Frederick. She would have the Prince of Wales to protect her.
* * *
The King was waiting in the drawing room at St James’s Palace to greet his prospective daughter-in-law.
He was slightly mollified because it was only April and she was here and he would be able to leave for Hanover without upsetting people by not staying for his son’s wedding.
The Queen stood beside him—a little drawn though smiling perhaps too affably, too joyously. Lord Hervey was close to her and so was Lady Sundon, both watchful, both guessing how weary the Queen was, and Lady Sundon knowing of the pain and its cause.
The King’s good temper was rapidly disappearing, because the Prince and Princess were late.
He looked at his watch. They should have been here half an hour ago!
He said: ‘The King and the Court have been waiting for half an hour and still the Prince has not brought his bride.’
‘The river is crowded today, Your Majesty,’ volunteered the Duke of Grafton. ‘No doubt their barge is being impeded.’
‘Time is time, Grafton, craft or no craft, and I do not like impudent puppies who keep me waiting.’
It seemed as though the bride would be greeted with scowls and reproaches as the time went on, and still the couple did not arrive.
Each minute increased the King’s anger, and when news was brought that the barge had reached Whitehall and the Princess was being carried across St James’s Park in a Sedan, he was almost on the point of retiring to his own apartments.
They could hear the cheers of the people as the Prince and his bride in their Sedans came nearer. The King remained grimly silent; and he did not speak until the Prince led in his bride.
It was not without grace that Frederick presented his shy bride to his parents.
And because she had the charm of youth and because she was so much in awe of him, the King’s anger disappeared.
Augusta dropped the deepest curtsey the King and Queen had ever seen and remained kneeling until George said in a soft and kindly voice : ‘You may rise, my dear. Let us look at you. Why, I think the Prince is most fortunate. Welcome to England, my dear.’
Augusta blushed and looked very pleased; so that in spite of the fact that she had arrived an hour late, this was forgotten and the first meeting was a success.
There was no point in waiting for the wedding. Indeed in the King’s opinion, there was every need that the ceremony should take place without delay, for once it was over he would start making preparations to leave for Hanover and no one was going to stop him.
The Princess looked very attractive in her gown of crimson velvet with its rows of ermine, wearing a crown with one bar, set with diamonds. She was led in the procession to the chapel by her young brother-in-law-to-be, William, Duke of Cumberland, with the Duke of Grafton and Lord Hervey in attendance with the ladies of her household; and the Bishop of London performed the ceremony.
Afterwards at supper, the Prince of Wales sat on the King’s right hand with his brother William, and on the Queen’s left hand sat the Princess of Wales and her sisters-in-law, the four Princesses.
The Queen spoke very kindly to the bride and found her so modest that she could not help liking her, but, as she said afterwards to Lord Hervey, she feared she was a little stupid and that her mother was to be blamed for not giving her a better education. ‘Nevertheless,’ she added, ‘I daresay she will suit Fred the better for that.’
Then of course there followed that ceremony of undressing the bride which was done by the four Princesses, and she was put to bed to await the coming of the Prince who eventually appeared in a cloth of silver nightgown and nightcap of fine lace.
Ministers and courtiers walked through the bedchamber to see the young couple in bed; and in spite of her awkwardness and shyness in company, the Princess of Wales seemed not in the least disturbed, for already her husband seemed to have inspired her with confidence.
The King, in his wedding clothes of gold brocade, embroidered with large flowers in silver and pale colours, cut short the ceremony, and taking the Queen’s hand, gave the signal to retire and leave the young couple alone.
As they walked out the King commented on the costumes of Lord Hervey and the Duke of Grafton; he had noted the diamond buttons and was calculating that they must have cost somewhere in the region of three to five hundred pounds.
The Queen replied that it was fitting they should on such an occasion. ‘As long as,’ she added, ‘they do not outdo Your Majesty in their splendour, which it is clear they did not.’
In her own yellow silk trimmed with pearls and diamonds, with diamonds at her throat and on her hands, Caroline herself was a glittering figure and the King looked at her with approval. Her gown was low cut revealing that bosom which he had once called the most beautiful in the world.
But his satisfaction was short-lived.
‘No Englishman knows how to dress,’ he said. ‘I suppose it is because no English tailor knows how to make a suit.
‘You are comparing them with their Hanoverian counterparts,’ the Queen could not resist saying, and she added quickly to change the subject. ‘Perhaps now that he is married, Frederick will give us less trouble. She seems a pleasant creature, though dull, and I think she should suit him well.
‘They have dressed themselves up for this wedding as they never did for my birthday,’ grumbled the King.
But he was not seriously angry. He was thinking: The wedding is over. I shall be in Hanover for May as I promised.
* * *
The Duchess of Marlborough laughed at the marriage. ‘A Princess of where, pray? Saxe-Gotha? What is Saxe-Gotha? Young Fred will regret the day he didn’t get Lady Di.’
And she jeered at the preparations and said that she had heard the bride was a nice little thing
but stupid.
‘He’ll have his regrets before long!’
But Frederick was not regretting. Nor was his bride. They were greeted by cheering crowds wherever they went. The people liked them. Just wait, thought Frederick, until we have a son. Then the people will be all for the Prince of Wales. They’re tired of bad-tempered George, anyway.
He would get his hundred thousand a year. He was going to ask for it as soon as it was possible to do so. He would get his privileges. When the King went off to his mistress he, the Prince of Wales, would be the Regent.
Everything was going to be different now. And it was all due to his dear little Augusta who adored him and wanted to do everything to please me.
When he said to her that he knew just the lady to fill the vacant post among her ladies in waiting, she listened eagerly.
‘It’s Lady Archibald Hamilton,’ he said. ‘I will present her to you.’
‘Please do,’ cried Augusta. ‘Is she young?’
‘You would not call her so.... She is twice your age.’
Augusta clapped her hands with pleasure. ‘I was afraid she might be young and beautiful,’ she said.
There were some things she had learned evidently, thought Frederick.
And when Lady Archibald Hamilton was presented to her, Augusta thought her, although a little stern, a very gracious lady.
‘Lady Archibald Hamilton hopes for a post in your household,’ said Frederick. ‘I hope you will agree with me that no one could be more suitable.’
And of course Augusta agreed with her husband.
The King’s Absence
IN the middle of May the King left England for Hanover. The Prince was sulking because once more he had been passed over and the Queen was made Regent.
In his own apartments he raged against his parents and the Princess Augusta listened, nodding her head, looking angry when he did, smiling when he did, agreeing with every word.
The King had not seen his son before his departure, but had sent a messenger to him with a letter which told him that wherever the Queen resided during his absence there would be apartments for the Prince and Princess of Wales.
‘Well,’ retorted the Prince, ‘the apartments may be there but we shan’t be in them.’
‘No, we shan’t,’ agreed the Princess.
‘I hate them ... both of them,’ declared the Prince.
And the Princess nodded as though he had said something even more clever than his usual utterances.
‘And I’ll show them.’
She nodded eagerly.
‘They’re going to be sorry for the way they’ve treated me.’
‘Very sorry.’
‘They can’t imagine I shall endure these humiliations for ever, or if they do they’re bigger fools than I take them for. We are not going to live under the same roof as the Queen Regent ... and we are going to do everything to annoy her. Do you know, Augusta, I think I hate my mother more than my father. He after all is just a fool. She’s the one who has made him what he is. She left me when I was only seven ... left me all alone in Hanover and it wasn’t till I was in my twenties that I saw her again. There’s a mother for you!’
It did not occur to Augusta to wonder in what circumstances the Queen had behaved as she had. Frederick said she had been cruelly neglectful, so in Augusta’s opinion she had.
‘But I’ll be revenged on them. You wait! I’ll ask for my hundred thousand. After all it’s my due. And when I’ve got that it will be only a beginning. You’ll see, Augusta, the sort of man you’ve married.’
Augusta laughed gleefully. She was sure she had married the most handsome, the bravest, and best man in the world.
It was no wonder that the Prince of Wales was pleased with his marriage.
* * *
Augusta was amused and impressed by the way in which her clever husband outwitted his mother.
She, the wicked Queen, had sent to them from Richmond saying that she intended staying there a while and, in accordance with the King’s order, she thought that the Prince and Princess should join her there.
Augusta listened wide-eyed to what her husband had to say.
‘We’re not going,’ he said. ‘We’ll write and tell her that you’re indisposed.’
Augusta thought this a clever idea; but the Queen it seemed was clever too for she wrote to her son and said that since his wife was indisposed she would call and visit her on her sick bed.
This threw Augusta into a panic, but her husband assured her that he had a plan. She would keep to her bed and the room would be so darkened that the Queen would not see her properly so it would not be difficult to feign illness. All she had to do was lie back and look wan.
When the Queen arrived and the Prince came with the Queen to her bedroom, the Princess of Wales was lying in her bed, her eyes closed.
The Queen took a seat beside the bed and asked how she felt.
‘Very weak, Your Majesty,’ said Augusta, but even to herself her voice sounded high pitched and false. She was not, she feared, a very good actress.
The Queen enquired about her symptoms in such detail that the Princess became very muddled, but the Queen was kind and said that she would not stay long as she could see that her presence was a little exhausting to one in the Princess’s state. On the other hand she had every confidence that very soon her daughter-in-law would be completely recovered.
With that she took her leave telling herself that one could not blame the Princess whatsoever; she would be a pleasant creature without that odious husband of hers.
She implied to her son as she took her leave that he had not deceived her one bit, and asked him why he had not attended the Council which had assembled to see her break the seals of the King’s commission which made her Regent.
‘My apologies, Madam,’ retorted the Prince insolently. But I mistook the hour.’
She curtly left him, thinking: We shall have trouble with him. His marriage has not helped us at all.
But at Richmond she summoned her family because she needed the comfort they always gave her—William, her particular favourite, and Caroline, her more constant companion. Caroline she took just a little for granted perhaps, but on William she doted.
Even the King liked his son. William was bright, quick-witted, which was a pleasure to his mother; and his preoccupation with military affairs gave him something in common with his father.
It was a pity, thought Caroline, that Frederick had ever been born.
The less rigorous routine immediately had its effect on the Queen’s health. Lady Sundon was pleased that there were no more of those cold foot-baths which she was sure were the worst possible thing for the Queen’s health. If Caroline’s legs and feet were too swollen for walking then she merely pleaded a pressure of business and rested in her bedchamber.
It was a great relief to escape from the King’s temper.
He was writing to her every day, long letters describing every detail of his days, and these were largely taken up with Madame de Walmoden.
It had been a wonderful reunion. She was an enchanting creature. He described her body in detail so that Caroline would be delighted to know how happy he was. They had a fine boy now—a very pretty fellow. He wished Caroline could see him.
She showed the letters to Walpole who nodded gravely but did stress the one good point that the King was still as frank as ever and it was an asset to know the exact state of his enslavement.
Then came the letter which set the Queen laughing and yet at the same time made her sad, for it was rather melancholy to have the follies of one’s husband so blatantly brought home to one.
The King was in a quandary and he wanted his dear wife’s opinion on this matter.
She knew of course that he had given his dear Madame de Walmoden apartments in the Leine Schloss and she would remember the gardens which ran down to the river. Well, one night a gardener had seen a ladder propped against the wall of the Schloss and this was immediately under Madame de Wa
lmoden’s window. The gardener was a zealous man who was certain that a thief was trying to steal Madame de Walmoden’s jewels; so cautiously leaving the ladder where it was, he called together some of his fellow gardeners and posting one at the foot of the ladder he and the others made a search of the gardens and sure enough they found a man hiding in the bushes. Thinking they had discovered a low fellow bent on robbery, they called the guard and in spite of his protestations the man was arrested. Now comes the awkward part of the story because the man was no low fellow after all, but a diplomat who had come to Hanover on the Emperor’s business and was a very high official. His name was Schulemburg and he was of course a connection of the Duchess of Kendal. He was, on showing his credentials, immediately released, but not before the story was being talked of all over the Court.
His dear Madame de Walmoden was most distressed. As Caroline could imagine one so beautiful and enchanting and honoured, of course, through her liaison with the King, was bound to have enemies. She had assured him that the whole thing was a plot contrived by her great enemy, Madame d’Elitz. Caroline would remember Madame d’Elitz, as one of the ladies with whom he had had a little affair of gallantry before he had the great good fortune to discover his peerless Madame de Walmoden. Poor Madame d’Elitz could have been jealous. He would understand that. But there was a great deal of gossip and he could see that so many people did not really believe Madame de Walmoden’s story.
Now he trusted his dear wife’s judgment, as she knew well, and he would like to have her opinion of this little affair.
‘Show this letter to le gros homme,’ he finished, ‘for my dear Caroline, he is more experienced in these affairs than you are, and less prejudiced than I myself am in this one.’
Caroline summoned Walpole and showed him this letter. He laughed over it.
‘I think, Madam,’ he said, ‘that this is a step in the right direction. This could well be the beginning of the end.’
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