The Princess of Celle: (Georgian Series)

by Jean Plaidy

  ‘That we sound Bernstorff. Offer him some bribe.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘He wants to be a landowner. So he’ll want money. But at first … to show that money would be following, let it be a rich present. You have a gold snuff box studded with diamonds. If that were sold it would buy quite a bit of land. Let us try him out with that; and I’ve no doubt that in exchange we shall have a front seat – in spirit – in the council chamber of Celle.’

  ‘Let us try him out with the snuff box then. It will be well if I am not concerned in this.’

  ‘Of course you must not be concerned in it. I will arrange it.’

  ‘What should I do without you?’

  ‘That is a problem which, at the moment, you have no need to consider.’

  He laughed. ‘My little minister!’ he murmured.

  ‘One thing more,’ she said. ‘When we have settled this little matter … satisfactorily, the Duchess Sophia should be taken into our counsels. I am sure she will give the scheme her approval.’

  Ernest Augustus sighed luxuriously. He was a lucky man. He had a mistress who combined an excessive sensuality with wisdom and to crown it all she was without jealousy of his wife.

  A Mission to London

  GEORGE LEWIS WAS summoned to his father’s apartments and found his mother there with the Duke. They were alone so he guessed that what they had to say to him was secret.

  Both parents shuddered inwardly as he lumbered in.

  What will they think of him? Sophia asked herself.

  Perhaps it’s time he travelled a little, was Ernest Augustus’s inward comment.

  ‘Now George Lewis,’ said his father, ‘your mother and I have something to tell you. It’s time you married.’

  ‘I thought that was coming,’ answered George Lewis with a slow smile.

  ‘You understand that your wife must bring you a good dowry, and that your father and I are seeking the best possible.’

  ‘It is always so,’ answered George Lewis.

  ‘This is a matter between the three of us,’ said the Duke. ‘At present it should not go beyond this room. Your mother believes that the Princess Anne of England would be a very suitable wife.’

  George Lewis whistled. In the manner of a stable boy, thought his mother with disgust.

  ‘It is by no means certain that you would be accepted,’ she said sternly. ‘But you understand it would be a very desirable match.’

  ‘A match with England,’ George Lewis replied, slyly looking at his mother. ‘Nothing in the world could be more desirable … to you.’

  ‘There is a possibility – if you married the Princess Anne – that you might inherit the throne of England,’ said his father.

  ‘There is even a possibility – remote, I admit – that even if I don’t marry her I might do that.’

  ‘So you are aware of it,’ put in Sophia with grim satisfaction.

  ‘Madame, you have told us time out of number how closely we are related to the royal family of England and you have seen that we’re scarcely likely to forget it.’

  ‘It is something to be proud of. When you have seen London and compared it with Hanover you will understand what I mean.’

  ‘When do I set out?’ asked George Lewis.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ cautioned Ernest Augustus. ‘As I told you in the beginning, this is not to be known outside this room. It will be announced that you are going on a tour of Europe. That is something which any young man of your birth and rank would naturally undertake and I might say this, that in your case it is more necessary than in most. The fact that you go to England as a suitor to the Princess Anne is to be a secret so far. It may well be that you are found unacceptable. In which case you do not want to be made a laughing stock. Keep this secret. You are going on a Grand Tour of Europe and naturally you will visit your kinsfolk in England. But when you reach England you will at once make yourself agreeable to the Princess Anne.’

  George Lewis grunted. ‘I’ll tell no one the real reason.’

  ‘Then you must make your preparations.’ Sophia was smiling complacently. ‘I will have a talk with you and look over your things myself. What a pity that you did not try to make a little progress in the English tongue. They are inclined to dislike those who can’t speak their language.’

  ‘If I marry an English woman,’ declared George Lewis, ‘she will have to speak my tongue.’

  ‘That attitude,’ his mother admonished, ‘will not carry you very far with the English.’

  George Lewis smiled at her. Everyone knew how she idolized that race. George Lewis had no such feeling for them.

  He remembered then that he would have to leave Marie. Never mind. He’d soon find someone to take her place. He must not tell her why he was going. There was little fear of that. George Lewis rarely indulged in much conversation when they were together.

  Already he was wondering what the Princess Anne was like.

  Clara was rueful. No sooner had she arranged that George Lewis should be comfortably settled with Marie than he was to go away. Well, there was nothing to be done about that; and it was the custom for young men in his position to tour Europe. She only hoped that he did not get too much taste for France and Italy as his father and uncle had done.

  She warned Marie that she must not sulk or annoy her lover in any way; but must make him realize that no matter where he went would he be able to find such a mistress as herself.

  ‘When he comes back, it must be to you,’ said Clara.

  Meanwhile preparations for George Lewis’s departure went on and Sophia was gratified when she received a message from her kinsman William of Orange.

  He had heard, he wrote, that George Lewis was about to set out on a tour of Europe, and as he believed he was including England, doubtless he would have to pass near Holland. William would be very disappointed if his kinsman, George Lewis, did not call on him. He hoped that George Lewis would have time for at least a week’s visit. He and his wife, the Princess Mary, were looking forward to making his acquaintance.

  ‘You must go,’ said Sophia. ‘You can’t have too many friends.’

  So George Lewis said farewell to a regretful Marie who was not too sad to make the parting unpleasant, and promised him that she would be counting the days to his return and that she would pray he would not forget her, for she knew there was not another lover in the world to be compared with George Lewis.

  George Lewis muttered that he would not forget her; and he would soon be back.

  Then he left Hanover and set out on his travels.

  When George Lewis arrived at The Hague he found a very warm welcome waiting for him. This was more unusual than he realized, for William of Orange was a cold man, never effusive; yet he had commanded his wife Mary to make much of the Crown Prince of Hanover and, although she had wept for days when forced to marry him, she now obeyed him absolutely in everything he commanded.

  Moreover, she was very pleased to have an opportunity for gaiety. There was little enough at the court of The Hague where William set the fashion, and Mary, who had come not so very long ago from the court of her gay uncle Charles II, missed the balls and banquets and general fun-provoking occasions which had come back into fashion with the Restoration of the Monarchy.

  George Lewis was pleased with his welcome. William suited him in a way. Taciturn, hunchbacked, pale-faced and far from attractive, he made George Lewis feel like a romantic hero in his presence; and since, although his manner was cold to others, he was pleasant to his guest, George Lewis was delighted with his host. As for Mary, she was quite charming. If her sister Anne were anything like her, George Lewis would be ready to begin his wooing without delay.

  It was Mary’s pleasure to show him the Palace of The Hague and the gardens which William himself had planned. William was very interested in architecture, she explained. Was George Lewis? He shook his head. No, he was a soldier.

  It was a very good thing to be, answered Mary, since he had a principali
ty to protect. He would find a great deal in common with William who was a great soldier too. Doubtless George Lewis had heard of his exploits.

  ‘As we have of yours,’ Mary hastened to add. ‘We all remember how you conducted yourself in the Battle of the Bridge at Conz. It was the talk of the army. I believe you were only fifteen at the time.’

  George turned and mumbled something unintelligible, but he was pleased.

  He had done well at that battle where he had proved that he was a natural soldier.

  ‘Well now, of course you are here on a different mission. That’s if you have a mission at all. Or are you just doing the Grand Tour for pleasure?’

  ‘It is a grand tour for pleasure,’ muttered George Lewis.

  ‘And you are going to England. You will enjoy meeting your relations.’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  She looked wistful. ‘England!’ she said. ‘It still seems like home to me. Does that surprise you? Do you think I should regard Holland as my home now that I am married?’

  ‘Well, my mother has never been to England, but she still thinks of it as her home because her mother was English.’

  ‘My great-aunt Elizabeth. She was so lovely, we always heard. It was very pleasant hearing tales of the family. Is it not a pity that we all have to be separated.’

  ‘It’s always been so.’

  ‘Ah, I cried when I left home … cried and cried … and my dear sister Anne was too ill to know that I had gone. If you see my sister Anne, will you tell her how I long to see her? Will you remember me to her very specially?’

  ‘If I see her,’ he said cautiously; but she was alert, watching him.

  He shrugged his shoulders. He had respected his promise not to speak of the real object of his visit.

  ‘She is a charming girl,’ said Mary.

  He nodded again.

  ‘Gay, affectionate – and pretty.’

  She was watching him closely, but he congratulated himself that he betrayed nothing.

  Later Mary said to her husband: ‘I talked to him and although he is so clumsy he betrayed nothing.’

  ‘You can depend upon it,’ said William gravely, ‘that he is being sent over on approval. If your uncle likes him he’ll have Anne. Who else is there for her?’

  ‘Poor Anne!’ sighed Mary; then she cast down her eyes, flushing, remembering how many people, only such a short time ago, had said Poor Mary.

  ‘He’s not much of a catch,’ admitted William. ‘But that mother of his is after Anne. I am certain of it. We mustn’t allow it.’

  ‘I don’t think Anne would care for him.’

  William gave his wife a contemptuous look. As though it were a matter of Anne’s caring!

  ‘We must do our best to stop it,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, William.’

  He looked at her with narrowed eyes. He was not going to explain. He had not yet tamed her and he was even a little uncertain of her. He would not forget easily – nor forgive – the spectacle she had made of herself weeping for everyone to see when he had been introduced as her future husband.

  He had married her because there was a hope that she would one day be the Queen of England and although she was the elder sister, she had not yet produced an heir. This meant that if she died before him, and Anne married and had children they would come before him. Therefore he wanted to put off Anne’s marriage as long as possible; and certainly he would prefer her not to marry a man who – like himself – was in the line of succession.

  First of all he had to find out whether his surmise that George was going to England as a suitor for Anne was correct; and if it were so he had to stop it.

  He said coldly that he had a state matter to which he must attend and left his wife, bewildered and unhappy, as always; but he had forgotten her as soon as he left the room. He was planning how he could make George Lewis betray his secret.

  Hollands Gin was the answer, for like a good German George Lewis found it irresistible.

  There he sat, side by side with William, while William’s specially selected friends carried on the conversation.

  They talked of England and the Princess Anne, sister to their Stadholder’s wife.

  ‘You can be sure that the King of England and the Duke of York are considering it is time she married.’

  ‘She is seventeen – and marriageable.’

  ‘Wasn’t there some talk about the Earl of Mulgrave?’

  ‘Oh yes, Mistress Anne became rather romantic about the fellow and he was sent away on a trip to Tangiers.’

  ‘I believe the Crown Prince could let us into a secret.’

  George Lewis was pleasantly happy. He had seen one of the Princess Mary’s attendants whom he fancied, a nice, plump Dutch girl. She had seemed as though she would be willing.

  Hollands Gin. Willing girls. It was a good life.

  Someone was leaning forward smiling at him, implying that he was a fellow who knew how to enjoy himself. He’d have a good time before he settled down.

  ‘Settled down!’

  ‘The Princess Anne would be as good a wife as her sister the Princess Mary.’

  ‘I’d see to that,’ he boasted.

  ‘Ha, ha.’ They were laughing sycophantishly. ‘She’ll know who’s the master, you can swear on that. You’ll soon show her.’

  ‘I’ll show her,’ he said.

  ‘Does she know why you’re coming?’

  ‘I don’t know. My uncle or her father may have told her.’

  ‘Well, well. Good luck to you. Good luck to the bridegroom.’

  ‘Good luck,’ said George Lewis smiling fatuously and laughing into his Hollands Gin.

  William looked grimly at his friend and chief adviser William Bentinck.

  ‘Well, do you agree now?’

  ‘He’s admitted it. Your Highness was right. He’s going wooing the Princess Anne.’

  ‘And he’ll get her unless we do something to stop it. We’ll have to get our friends working at Hanover. Did you find out who was open to bribes?’

  ‘There is the woman at Hanover, Clara von Platen. She could be very useful. She’s Ernest Augustus’s chief adviser under the bedclothes, and with a man like Ernest Augustus this carries more weight than the council chamber. She would work for us if adequately rewarded. Then there is Bernstorff at Celle. He is disgruntled but mostly against the Duchess. He’s already in the pay of Ernest Augustus so would most certainly be ready to be in ours.’

  ‘Get working on them right away.’

  ‘That they may help in preventing this marriage, yes.’

  ‘Is there someone who might be a good match for George Lewis?’

  ‘Well, there is a cousin. The Duke of Celle’s daughter. I imagine it would be an attractive match for both the fathers. You see, it would join up Hanover and Celle and you know how these little German princelings like to sew their lands together. It’s an old German custom.’

  ‘That seems a good idea.’

  ‘Get our agents out to Hanover and Celle at once and tell them that they are to work without delay for a marriage between Hanover and Celle. Then … we must see our people in London. We have to make sure that no pretty little romance is allowed to flourish between my fat sister-in-law and this handsome young princeling.’

  Bentinck laughed. ‘It shall be done,’ he said.

  George Lewis was sorry to leave the hospitable Dutch; but he guessed that his English relations would be as pleased to see him.

  It was a dismal day when the boat which carried him lay off Greenwich and he was surprised that his mother’s cousin, the King of England, had sent no one to welcome him. It was very different from the arrival in Holland. His mother had warned him that the first thing he must do when he reached England was get in touch with his uncle, Prince Rupert, who would, if it were necessary, introduce him to the English Court; and since it seemed he would need some introduction George Lewis sent one of his men ashore with a letter for his uncle.

  Rupert returned with the
messenger. So this, thought George Lewis, was the Prince with the fabulous reputation: Rupert of the Rhine, who had fought for his uncle Charles I and his cousin Charles II and was known as one of the greatest soldiers of his day! As one soldier to another, George Lewis was impressed.

  Prince Rupert, being just past sixty, was also past the days of his glory. There were the remains though of handsome looks and his garments were so elegant that George Lewis could only stare with open mouth and marvel that great soldiers should choose to deck themselves out in such a fashion. His coat was of scarlet velvet richly trimmed with silver lace – the same lace trimmed his satin breeches; but his face was gnarled with time and weather and went ill with such finery.

  But he was still one of the greatest soldiers of his day and was now one of the King’s privy councillors. A man of influence and just the person needed to introduce a rather shy young man to a foreign court.

  ‘So …’ he said, his eyes cool and appraising. ‘You are George Lewis. Your mother has written to me much of you.’

  But she hadn’t told him what a country lout he was or Rupert would have suggested teaching him a few gracious manners before sending him to England.

  ‘She talks of you continually … and England.’

  ‘It is to be expected,’ replied Rupert. ‘Well, your reputation has travelled before you. You like war and women, so we hear.’

  ‘Who does not?’ murmured George Lewis with a sheepish grin.

  ‘Most of the King’s courtiers are very partial to the second though they have little taste for the first.’

  ‘Why,’ said George Lewis, ‘they know not what they are missing.’

  Rupert waved a hand impatiently. ‘You are fortunate to come at this time. The people of England will review your suit favourably.’

  ‘Oh … why?’

  ‘Because, my dear nephew, James, Duke of York, is making it very plain that he has embraced the Catholic religion – and one thing the people of this country will not tolerate is a Catholic King. Therefore the fact that you are a Protestant will count in your favour.’

  ‘Well, I have yet to see the Princess.’

  What a boor! thought Prince Rupert. Clumsy manners. Clumsy speech.