Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series) (40 page)

And one day at the end of January, George I returned to England.

The Prince met him at Blackheath. When his coach came to a halt the Prince alighted and went to that of the King.

As a crowd had gathered to see the meeting, the King could do nothing but alight.

They faced each other and embraced while the people cheered.

Then they got into the King’s coach together as though they were the best of friends. But the Prince had caught the cold dislike in the eyes of his father.

They continued the journey to St James’s in stony silence.

The fateful christening

IT WAS ONCE
more summer at Hampton Court. But how different was this summer from the last! There was common talk now of the Prince’s Party and the King’s Party and it was well known, not only at court, but throughout the country, that the King and his son were enemies.

The only way in which peace was maintained was by seeing that the Prince and the King were kept out of each other’s way, and as they had no wish to see each other this was not difficult. The King declared himself most dissatisfied with his son; the Prince made no secret of the fact that he hated his father.

Caroline alone kept up a pretence that all was well; and however vehemently she expressed her dislike of her father-in-law in private, she always behaved with the utmost respect in public.

They had moved to Hampton Court for the summer; the King was not as displeased to be back in England now as he had been in the winter, for he had promised himself another trip to Hanover in the not too distant future while he resigned himself to the fact that as King of England he must spend some of his time in that country.

And at Hampton Court the King made an attempt to gain a
little popularity, since his son had acquired a great deal during his absence. It was not easy for George, but he did try; he allowed conversation at the dinner table in which he sometimes joined, speaking French for he still made no effort whatsoever to speak English. He would sometimes sit in the pavilion and watch the bowl players, or take a turn at the cards; he often listened to music; he liked to take supper alone with Ermengarda, who was now the Duchess of Kendal, making sure that they retired early to what he called ‘a seasonable bedtime’.

Caroline was pleased that they were at Hampton. She was once more pregnant and this time was determined to take more care of herself. She longed for a son; and the very root of her resentment against the King was the fact that he would not allow Fritzchen to come to England.

The Whig Ministry had been reformed with Stanhope and Sunderland at its head. Sunderland, however, had become a great favourite of the King’s for two reasons. One was his intense dislike of the Prince of Wales; and the other was that he had become fast friends with the Duchess of Kendal, whose long association with the King had made her as a wife to him, and also with Bernstorff who was the King’s chief adviser. Even Stanhope, brilliant master of foreign affairs that he was – and the King appreciated his worth – could not compete with that. As for Townsend, although he had lost his office, he was, with Walpole, still of some importance; yet since the return of the King, to the chagrin of Caroline and the Prince, the friendship between themselves and these two men had waned considerably. They seemed as though instead of being the support they had promised to be, they merely wanted to remain on good terms, ready for the day when the Prince would be in power.

Still, there were Whigs who were very dissatisfied with the reigning ministry, and these formed the nucleus of the Prince’s party.

There was one man whom the Prince and Caroline disliked and distrusted more than any other and that was the Duke of Newcastle. The Duke had shown his contempt for the Prince and stood firmly against him. That was something George Augustus and Caroline found hard to forgive.

But there was fortunately no obligation to see much of the
man. In fact, because of her pregnancy, and moreover because of the last confinement which had ended so disastrously, Caroline made every excuse to live quietly in her own apartments.

This she did, and it was pleasant to have her little girls with her. They had become devoted to her now that they could be so much together, but she was rather alarmed to notice that Anne was aware of certain follies in her father. She had seen the child watching him when he betrayed his vanity, or quick temper, or some lack of perception. If Anne became critical of her father Caroline would have to correct that. She shuddered to think of having her children in conflict with
their
parents. Anne was old enough to know, of course, of the strife between her father and grandfather. On no account must that be repeated.

So with the family together – and the excitement of intrigues with those politicians who, even though the King had returned, remained faithful to the Prince – life was far from tedious. Yet at times, when Caroline was made aware of the choleric temper of her husband and the soured vindictiveness of his father, she did feel as though she were sitting on gunpowder.

There was storm in the sultry air all that summer, and everyone was comparing it with that of the previous year.

And in October Caroline and the Prince returned to St James’s to be ready for Caroline’s lying-in.

Exactly a year after the disaster when she had lost her child, and almost her own life, through her prudery in not allowing Sir David Hamilton to attend her, Caroline gave birth to a son.

She was delighted, but not more so than the Prince. He came to her, his face pink with emotion as he knelt by her bed and kissed her hands.

‘My tear, my tear, this the happiest day… Now you vill not miss little Fritzchen so much, eh?’

‘
Wunderbar… wunderbar!
’ whispered Caroline.

‘And vere is this little fellow?’

He was brought and placed in the Prince’s arms.

Caroline watched her husband awkwardly nursing the child.

‘He is goot… he seems goot. Vere are my daughters? Send my daughters here. They must their
bruder
meet.’

Caroline lay back on her pillows watching them – the three
little girls, her husband and the new child.

‘There! Is he not von fine little fellow?’ The Prince was strutting round the apartment. ‘See how happy he is to be in his father’s arms.’

Anne was watching a trifle scornfully.

Amelia said: ‘Is it not Mamma’s baby too.’

‘Ha!’ laughed the Prince. ‘It is Mamma’s baby too.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Anne coolly, ‘she would like to hold it now.’

‘Ha! ha!’ laughed her father. Caroline held her breath. He did not see the criticism. He would not have thought it possible that his daughters could be critical of him.

It must not grow, thought Caroline.

‘Your father is very happy now,’ she said. ‘He vas anxious for me and now it is goot that all is vell.’

Little Caroline was standing by the bed, clinging to her mother’s hand, fearful that the coming of the new child might lose her her mother’s attention, wondering what it would be like now that she was no longer the baby.

The Prince had laid the child in her arms and the little girls came round her to look closely at him.

‘Do you think he is like his Papa, eh?’ demanded the Prince.

‘No,’ replied Anne. ‘I think he is more like Mamma. I like him.’

The Prince rocked on his heels, well pleased with his happy family.

When the little girls had gone he said: ‘I’ll swear my father is envious of us.’

‘This quarrel does little good,’ replied Caroline. ‘Ve should try to mend it… if only outwardly.’

‘Oh, he is von old scoundrel.’

‘I know, but he is the King; and he can make things very unpleasant for you.’

‘Let him try.’

Caroline sighed. Then she said: ‘I should like to call the child Lewis.’

‘Lewis…’ repeated the Prince. ‘Oh, but it’s his name.’

‘Perhaps you vould agree that he might be pleased to have the child named after him.’

‘Vy should ve please him?’

‘Because after all he is the King. Ve lose by this quarrel.’

The Prince was thoughtful. ‘And you vish, my love, that this should be the boy’s name?’

‘Yes. I vish it.’

‘Then it shall be Lewis.’

‘And I should like your sister to be sponsor.’

‘My sister! You think she vould come from Prussia?’

Caroline thought of Sophia Dorothea from whom she heard now and then, living her stormy life with Frederick William who was now King of Prussia. They quarelled violently and incessantly but there was a bond between them which, in spite of this, held them together. It would be a great joy to see her sister-in-law again and recall those days at Hanover.

‘But perhaps she vould send a proxy.’

The Prince nodded. It seemed fitting that his sister should be sponsor to his child; he had always been fond of her since those days when they had lost their mother and gradually became aware of the tragic circumstances of her disappearance.

‘Ve should ask her,’ he said.

‘And, beside her, perhaps your uncle the Duke of Osnabrück and York.’

‘Vat! He whom my father threatened to make Regent ven he vent avay!’

‘It vould please your father.’

‘I do not vish to please that old scoundrel.’

‘Outwardly…’ she said with a smile.

The Prince began to smile and his eyes lit up with mischief.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘this is not a bad idea. Ve vill please him in this…’

‘Show the people that ve do our best to end the family quarrels.’

‘A goot idea,’ replied the Prince, every moment becoming certain that he had thought of it.

The King came to St James’s to see his grandson. Caroline received him in bed and he was gracious to her.

A fine woman, he thought, looking at her lying back on her pillows, her hair simply dressed, a curl over either shoulder. Too clever for a woman, though. Bernstorff had discovered it; so
had Bothmer and Robethon. They must watch this one.

‘It is good of Your Majesty to come,’ she said, meekly enough, but he didn’t trust her meekness. She was the guiding hand in this partnership against him. George Augustus was a fool who allowed his wife to lead him by the nose; and a bigger fool because he didn’t know it.

‘I come to see my grandson,’ he retorted with characteristic tactlessness.

The Prince came into the apartment. Uneasily Caroline watched the two regard each other. The Prince bowed; the King nodded and quickly turned back to the bed.

‘Your Majesty will wish to see the boy,’ said Caroline, and signed to one of the attendants to have the child brought to the King.

The nurse came and stood before George, holding the child in her arms. The King looked down into the little face and grunted.

‘The Prince and I have decided to call him Lewis,’ said Caroline, and waited for the sign of pleasure in the grim old face.

Instead, the lips tightened; and there was no show of pleasure.

Thinking it was because he was trying to hide his pleasure, she hurried on: ‘And as sponsors we have chosen the Queen of Prussia and the Duke of Osnabrück and York.’

The King was silent for a moment. Then he said: ‘His name shall be George William and I shall let you know who his sponsors will be.’

With that he gave her a curt nod and without another look at his son, strode out of the apartment.

The Prince was furious. There, before his attendants, the nurse and some of the bedchamber women he took off his wig and kicked it over the bed.

‘He is von old scoundrel. Whose son is this? Is it mine or is it his? I tell you his name is Lewis. I vill not have his sponsors…’

With a nod Caroline signed to Henrietta Howard to pick up the wig and present it to the Prince.

This she did; he took it ungraciously and slammed it on his head. It was awry, and his face, purple with rage, looked almost comic beneath it. Caroline believed that Molly Lepel and Sophie Howe were having great difficulties in suppressing their giggles.

‘You may leave us,’ said Caroline to all present.

And when they were alone she set herself the difficult task of persuading the Prince that they would have to fall in with the King’s wishes because he had the power to make them. They must be patient, remembering that it would not always be so.

Caroline was in bed for the christening. She was both angry and apprehensive. The King had shown his animosity not only by forcing them to have the name of his choice but by selecting for one of the sponsors the Duke of Newcastle who he knew – and the whole court knew – was a particular enemy of the Prince and Princess of Wales.

She was terrified that George Augustus would be unable to control his rage. If he insulted the King in public the consequences could be disastrous. She dared not warn him of this for it might put the idea into his mind; and his very fearlessness could make him reckless.

When Newcastle came into the apartment she saw the Prince turn his back on him. Newcastle was an extremely ugly man and it was obvious from his demeanour that he knew the Prince deplored his presence, and was amused by this.

The Duchess of St Albans was co-sponsor with the King and Newcastle. Caroline had no great feeling for or against her, except for the fact that she had not chosen her and she thought that a Prince of the royal house should have had royal sponsors.

How relieved she would be when the ceremony was over! She must try to forget her chagrin and persuade George Augustus to do the same, for this matter – while extremely irritating and humiliating – would not damage their reputation with the people, which was more important than anything. In fact, the people would be indignant on their behalf, which might mean it was a good thing after all.

The ceremony was over quickly and the King left immediately. The Prince, however, was glaring at Newcastle on whose unprepossessing face there was a faint sneer. The Prince had grown scarlet; the veins stood out at his temples and, rushing to Newcastle, he shook his fist at him, shouting in English which was always more imperfect than usual when he was disturbed: ‘You are von scoundrel. I vill find you.’