Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series) (24 page)

‘There are evidently intrigues at the court of England,’ said Caroline. ‘If you were there…’

‘If I were there!’ echoed Sophia. ‘Of course. My dear, I knew you would have a wise suggestion to make. Of course I must be there.’

‘Your health…?’

‘Nonsense. What I need to make me well and strong is the crown of England. I have told you often that I should die happy only if the words Queen of England, Scotland and Ireland were engraved on my tomb.’

‘I pray you, do not talk of dying,’ said Caroline with a shiver.

Sophia laughed. ‘Die. Why should I? You are right. I must go to England.’

‘The Queen has been against a visit from Hanover for so long,’ Leibniz pointed out.

‘That’s true, but everything is different now. She must understand that I should be there.’

‘She has a superstitious fear that to see any member of the
house of Hanover in England would be an indication that she could not live long. It is hardly likely that she will feel differently now when even she must know that death is close.’

‘I must go to England,’ said Sophia.

And watching her, Caroline was surprised that the old woman, who had always behaved with shrewd and calculating calmness, could over this one thing for which she cared more than anything else on earth, so betray her eagerness and become vulnerable.

Caroline hoped that, however urgently she desired something, she would never betray it as Sophia was doing now.

Caroline was summoned to the Electress’s apartments, where she found the old woman in bed.

‘A slight indisposition,’ said Sophia.

‘The tension and excitement have caused it,’ added Caroline. ‘You could not think of making a journey to England in your condition.’

‘Perhaps you are right. I have left it too long. I should have been there by now. Sometimes I think that I should not go to England except as its Queen.’

Caroline nodded.

‘But that does not mean that Hanover should not be represented there. I should like to speak to you about that. You know whom I have in mind. George Augustus speaks English… tolerably. He is popular with them, and he has always shown his approval of all things English. I have been thinking that he should go to England.’

‘Yes,’ said Caroline slowly. ‘I am sure you are right.’

‘George Lewis could not go… nor does he want to. It would be the end of our hopes once they set eyes on his sullen face. Besides he doesn’t speak a word of their language. Can you imagine that a man could be such a fool! He may be King of a country and doesn’t bother to learn the language! No, George Augustus should go. Do you agree with me?’

‘I do,’ said Caroline, her eyes shining. Let George Augustus go to England. Let him ingratiate himself with the English. Then when Queen Anne died… if Sophia became Queen and eventually George Lewis was King, it would be the Prince of
Wales who would enjoy the popularity of his new country – not the King. Caroline was uncertain that they would ever get to England, but if they did, there would without a doubt be a feud between George Lewis and his son.

She must not forget that and must in fact begin working for the good of her husband – and therefore her own.

Yes, it was an excellent idea that George Augustus should go to England, to represent the House of Hanover at this important time.

George Lewis set his jaw firmly and faced his chief minister Bernstorff who had worked for him ever since, as chief minister to the Duke of Celle, he had conspired against his master for the sake of Hanover – at considerable profit, it was true. But he was too shrewd a minister to lose sight of, and on the death of the Duke of Celle, when Bernstorff could no longer work for Hanover at Celle, George Lewis had welcomed him to work for him openly.

‘My son wants to go to England,’ he said. ‘And the English appear to be eager to have him there.’

‘Only the Whig faction, Your Highness. The Queen would not welcome him.’

‘He’s not going, in any case.’

‘No, Your Highness?’

‘Come, Bernstorff. You know my son. What will he be at, do you think? Poisoning them against me before I get there… if I ever do. Certainly George Augustus shall not go.’

‘You are right, as usual, Highness. He could do us a great deal of harm.’

‘Picture him, making himself pleasant. They might not see through him until it was too late. Go and tell him he can stop thinking about such a journey. We do not want
him
to represent Hanover.’

‘Your Highness would consider making the journey?’

‘I do not consider it. I wish to stay in Hanover. My mother has a picture of England which she has had as long as I knew her. Some Valhalla, I fancy. I don’t share her view. I’ve no wish to go to their island. They can keep it.’

‘Three Crowns, Your Highness. William of Orange thought they were worth making a bid for.’

‘He had a small kingdom.’

Bernstorff spread his hands.

George Lewis grunted. His minister was right, of course, if the crowns of England, Scotland and Ireland came to Hanover, the power of the Guelphs would be greatly increased from a little German state to a great country.

George Lewis was not a deeply ambitious man. He did not want to be disturbed; he was happy enough in Hanover which he, following his father’s rule, had strengthened and made rich; he governed judicially; here he lived with his own people; he did not like what he had seen of the English who came to Hanover; nor did they – and they made this quite clear – like him.

For some strange reason they accepted George Augustus, the little popinjay, the arrogant, quick-tempered, self-opinionated little man – which showed they hadn’t much sense.

Was he going to allow George Augustus to go to England to ingratiate himself further? And to take with him that wife of his. She was a clever one, a sly one. George Lewis was not at all sure of her. She had ten times the brain of George Augustus and shrewdly she was with him in all he did.

No, George Augustus was not going to England.

George Augustus kicked a stool across the room.

‘I am not to go to England. He forbids it. I am a grown man, am I not? I have proved myself on the battlefield. And I think I have given proof of my manhood. But… I am not to go to England. Papa forbids it.’

‘He is jealous of your popularity,’ said Caroline quietly.

George Augustus stood still, smiling. What a pleasant construction to put on this irritating matter! His father refused him, not because he feared he might be incompetent but because he was jealous of him!

‘That,’ continued Caroline, ‘is the reason why he will not allow you to go to England.’

‘He is such a crude boor. He will never be liked in England.’

George Augustus was studying his reflection in the mirror, seeing himself arriving in England, the crowds cheering. What a handsome man! Have you heard how he distinguished himself on the battlefield? A favourite of the ladies… but at the same time a good husband. His wife adores him, but of course, he being such a man, there are his mistresses. His wife forgives him? With such a man, such natural frailties are forgiven.

He could hear their cheers ringing in his ears. They had always liked him; and he had liked them. But his father wouldn’t let him go.

George Lewis, the Elector, was jealous of his son. It was almost worth not going to England to know that. And Caroline had seen it.

He smiled at her. She was a good wife.

He went to her and, taking her arm, made her sit down beside him. He always felt happier sitting, when his lack of inches did not show.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I shall not go to England then. And that pleases you?’

‘It pleases me to have you here in Hanover, yet I am sure it would have been good for you to go to England. When we get there… if we ever go… the strife between you and your father will continue. I want us to make sure that the English are on your side… not on your father’s.’

He kissed her. She was a clever woman, as women went. He was fortunate to have such a wife… and such a pleasant mistress as Henrietta Howard. Two women who adored him so much that they never made trouble. Henrietta was demure in the presence of Caroline, never betraying by a hint that she enjoyed the special favours of her husband; as for Caroline she continued to treat Henrietta as a friend; she knew of course of the intimacy between him and Henrietta; but she accepted a mistress as necessary to a man of his virility.

He was certain in that moment that he loved Caroline very much.

There was acute conflict between the Elector and his son; Sophia held conferences with George Augustus and Caroline in her apartments; the Elector was angry, chiefly with Caroline. He
had always respected his mother and despised his son; but Caroline’s turning against him angered him. He respected her mentality; he would have welcomed her as an ally; that she supported her husband he did not regard as a natural action but a foolish one.

The tension was rising. News came from England that Queen Anne was on the point of dying.

‘It cannot be long now,’ said Sophia to Caroline.

They had settled in at Herrenhausen for the summer and Sophia was always happier there than anywhere else. She walked every day in the gardens, but she liked to have a companion with her and this was almost always Caroline.

The conversation was mainly about England; in fact Sophia showed her impatience if any other subject was mentioned. Caroline often attempted to turn the conversation because she was afraid that the excitement this matter of the throne of England roused in Sophia was not good for her. There were times when the old lady looked her age – she was eighty-four – and that was something she had never done before. She would grow breathless in her indignation and often Caroline had to urge her to sit down.

This irritated Sophia, who on one occasion demanded to know whether Caroline thought she, not Anne, was on the point of death.

Anne, growing more and more feeble each day, grew also more and more aggravating. News came that she was continually praying for her half-brother, that she was favouring the Jacobites, even that she had written a document, which was to be produced after her death, to the effect that James was to inherit.

‘George Augustus must go to England,’ said Sophia. ‘Oh, Caroline, he must. He must let them see that he will be a good Protestant. He should leave without delay. George Lewis is mad to prevent him. He is letting his jealousy overrule his common sense.’

Caroline agreed that George Augustus must go, and as they were discussing how they could bring George Lewis to his senses, the courier arrived with letters from England.

The two ladies went into the palace where George Lewis was
receiving the courier, and waited for a while in Sophia’s apartment, but as George Lewis sent no message, they went along to George Lewis’s apartment.

He looked surprised to see them and barely greeted them, but Sophia was far too anxious about the news from England to care.

‘What news is there?’ she demanded.

‘There is a letter from Queen Anne,’ muttered George Lewis.

‘From the Queen. What does she say?’

‘She is annoyed because of these suggestions to send George Augustus to England. She doesn’t want him.’

‘She doesn’t want to see George Augustus!’

‘Strange as you think it, she doesn’t. In fact she hints that if any of our family set foot in England while she is alive she will alter the succession.’

Sophia gasped. ‘I don’t believe it.’

George Lewis went to his table and picking up a document handed it to his mother.

She read it and grew pale. It was exactly as he had said. She was feeling faint and gripped the table to support herself. Nothing seemed safe and secure.

The throne which had seemed so near had begun to recede. So much depended on the whim of a woman who should have been dead long ago but who obstinately clung to life.

She could in a moment destroy all their hopes; and surely if they were to inherit the throne they should be in England now.

George Lewis said to her with more tenderness than he usually displayed: ‘Sit down. You look a little shaken.’

She sat down, still holding the letter. She tried to read it through again, but the writing danced before her eyes.

George Lewis was watching her intently. She handed the letter to him.

‘I felt a little unwell for a moment or two,’ she said. ‘I am all right now.’

Sophia sat in her apartments at Herrenhausen writing a letter to her niece, the Duchess of Orleans, the most notorious scandalmonger at the French court. It was a habit of Sophia’s to write to this niece whenever she was particularly disturbed and even
though she realized that Elizabeth Charlotte was completely mischievous and what she wrote would be discussed freely at the French court, she could never resist writing to her. The letters were a safety valve for one who had so often been forced to curb her true feelings.

She was smiling as she wrote, telling her niece how badly the Queen of England was behaving, first by being so long in dying, secondly by flirting with the idea of placating her conscience and naming her half-brother as her successor. And here she was, at Herrenhausen, when she should be at the Court of St James’s. George Lewis was worse than usual – a crude German boor who had never tried to learn English and had no love for England, the country she hoped he would one day rule, followed by George Augustus, who really had
some
sense since he had managed to make friends with a number of English people and had married a very sensible wife whom Sophia was sure would guide him through any difficulties which lay ahead.

Something must happen soon. Queen Anne could not live for ever.

Caroline came to her apartments accompanied by one of Sophia’s women, the Countess von Pickenbourg.

‘I thought you might care to take a walk,’ said Caroline.

‘Excellent idea,’ replied Sophia. ‘As you know full well I’m always ready for that. If people walked more then we would enjoy better health.’ She rose smiling. She would finish the letter later. ‘I have lived so long because I have walked every day in the fresh air… never as a task, mind you, but always as a pleasure. Give me your arm, Caroline, my dear.’