Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series) (41 page)

What the Prince meant to imply was that he would discover what intrigues the Duke was engaged in; but the Duke thought he was trying to say he would fight him; and he gathered that this was a challenge to a duel.

He bowed and hastily left the apartment.

He went at once to his friends Sunderland and Stanhope who listened intently to what he had to say.

They said they would consult the King’s minister, Bernstorff, who would know better than anyone else what the King’s reaction would be to such blatant indiscretion on the part of the Prince.

The four men talked the matter over.

There would be no duel. The Prince would not be allowed to fight.

Secretly, when they heard what the Prince had said, all but Newcastle realized that it was his imperfect English which had given the wrong impression; but as they were eager to increase the animosity between the King and the Prince they thought it wise to keep to the original construction.

The Prince was a fool, but a fool with a clever wife. Therefore he was a danger. He was their enemy, so if it were possible to incense the King more deeply against him, all the better.

‘The Prince is clearly a danger to the King’s ministers,’ said Bernstorff. ‘I will put this matter before him.’

To the Prince’s apartments came the Dukes of Kent, Roxburgh and Kingston.

‘Vat you vant?’ demanded the Prince.

‘We come on His Majesty’s instructions.’

‘Vell, veil, vat is it?’

‘We have to question Your Highness on the challenge you have made to the Duke of Newcastle.’

‘Challenge? Vat is this challenge?’

‘You have challenged him to a duel.’

‘You are mad.’

‘The Duke of Newcastle complains that Your Highness has challenged him to a duel. He cannot accept your challenge. In the name of the King…’

‘In the name of the King vill you get out of here!’

‘We come to question Your Highness on the King’s order.’

‘I answer not questions… to the King, that old scoundrel, nor to you. I made no challenge. Newcastle is von liar. Get out or I vill you out throw.’

The Dukes retired and went to the King who, after listening intently, gave the order that the Prince should be placed under arrest.

Throughout the Court and all over London the news of the Prince’s arrest was being discussed.

He was shut in his apartments with the Princess and neither of them was allowed to venture out. Even those attendants who had not been in the apartments at the time of the arrest were not permitted to go to their master and mistress.

In the coffee houses there was excited speculation. Sympathy was with the Prince who, when he was Guardian of the Realm, had shown them how much more gay and colourful life would be if he were King. The Princess was popular, too, so the people were on their side.

The King was a sour old man; his mistresses were ugly; he rarely smiled; he made no concessions to popularity; he preferred Hanover to England. Let him go back and live on sausages and sauerkraut. He had a wife whom he had kept shut up in prison for more than twenty years. He was a wicked old ogre. Did he now think to imprison his son as he had his wife?

The people would not allow it.

They wanted to see their Prince and Princess riding through the streets, walking in the parks.

A royal quarrel was exciting only for a while. They would allow no locking up of their Prince and Princess.

Besides, the poor lady had just given birth to a boy. What a shock this must be for her, and she still recovering from a difficult confinement!

The people were for the Prince and Princess.

Aghast at what had happened, Caroline tried to plan what they should do for the best.

She knew they had a vindictive man against them. She had
lived long enough in the shadow of the Leine Schloss where the ill-fated Sophia Dorothea, the Prince’s mother, had learned what could happen to those who offended George Lewis.

Why should he be any more lenient towards a son than a wife?

They must not be foolishly proud. They must act quickly.

She tried to convey her fears to George Augustus who, after his first storms of rage had subsided, was prepared to listen to her.

He too remembered the fate of his mother.

Between them they composed a letter to the King which the Prince wrote.

‘If I have had the misfortune to offend His Majesty, contrary to my intention, I crave his pardon and pray him to be persuaded of the respect which I have for him. I will show no more resentment to the Duke of Newcastle…’

Caroline read the letter slowly.

‘Must I send this to that old scoundrel?’ asked the Prince, almost tearfully.

‘I fear so,’ she said. ‘He has great power. Ve must not forget your mother.’

They had humbled themselves and the King was glad of that. Not that he intended it to do them any good. He despised and hated his son. He would never forget the day when, as a boy, he had broken away from a hunting party and tried to rescue his mother. It had been an attempt doomed to failure from the start, but the boy had been reckless enough to make it, and it had earned him the admiration and affection of too many people. It had called attention to the vindictive cruelty of his father; and more than that, it had been the beginning of the enmity between them.

The boy had been on the side of his mother, which meant that he was against his father.

George Lewis never forgave, never forgot an insult or an injury. Sophia Dorothea, still in prison, was a confirmation of that.

He wanted to forget that woman; and her son – who was unfortunately his also – would not let him forget. For instance, there were times when he even looked like her; and the King knew she was often in his mind. His son had never forgiven him
for what he had done to his wife. Very well, the Prince would have to learn what it meant to have his father for an enemy.

When he read the letter his son had written he laughed scornfully. He knew who was responsible for that. That she-devil! George Augustus would never have had the sense to try to placate him.

Well, Madam, you have failed, said the King; and he put the letter into a candle flame and let it burn.

Stanhope, with several of his ministers, was asking for audience to discuss this unfortunate matter of the Prince. He received them with no change in his usual dour expression.

‘Your Majesty, we cannot keep the Prince in confinement indefinitely,’ Stanhope explained. ‘It is a breach of the Habeas Corpus Act. The Opposition will create a great disturbance if we keep him confined much longer. It could lead to great trouble.’

‘If I were in Hanover I should know what to do,’ said the King. ‘Here in England… there are different laws. You must explain to me. But one thing I will not have – and I know there is no law to stop this. I will not live under the same roof with the Prince.’

Stanhope replied: ‘Your Majesty is right. There is no law to prevent the Prince having a separate establishment.’

‘Then I will banish him and the Princess from St. James’s Palace.’

‘The Cabinet would have to approve Your Majesty’s decision.’

‘Then let them approve… quickly. I will not tolerate him here much longer.’

‘I will call a meeting of the Cabinet without delay,’ said Stanhope.

Caroline had risen from her bed, although still weak. The quarrel with the King had not helped in her recovery and she was very anxious as to the outcome. The Prince was more subdued than usual. The days of confinement in his apartments had sobered him considerably. He considered the power of his father and was alarmed as to what the next move would be.

Caroline thought of her daughters in another part of the palace and wondered what stories they were hearing of the differences between their parents and their grandfather. She asked that they
might be sent to her, so that if they were under arrest the whole family might be together, but was told that the King’s orders were that the girls were not to visit their parents.

She was more alarmed than ever when she heard this.

He is capable of any cruelty, she thought. And again she thought of his wife who had been separated from her two young children.

What next? she wondered.

She felt faint and feverish, and this was an additional anxiety, for she knew that in this crisis she needed all her wits.

Their sentence came to them, explained in a document which the King had prepared. They were free to go, but they were banished from St James’s.

George Augustus read the document aloud to her.

‘Banished!’ he said. ‘Good riddance to him and his miserable court. Ve’ll have our own. A fine goot court. He von’t like that. Oh no, my old rascal.’

‘And is that all?’ she asked.

‘No, there is some more.’

She was out of bed and taking the document from his hands. She felt dizzy as she read:

‘It is my pleasure that my grandson and granddaughters remain at St James’s where they are. The Princess will be permitted to see them when she has a mind, and the children will be permitted from time to time to go and see her and my son.’

Caroline dropped the document and stared at the Prince.

‘Do you see vat he is doing?’

‘He is sending us avay.’ The Prince snapped his fingers. ‘Let him. Ve vill have von fine big court… better than his. To ours vill come his enemies. He is von big fool.’

‘He is going to keep the children from us.’

‘He says you can see them… from time to time.’

‘From time to time! My own children! They are going to be taken from us. And the baby… He is so young. He needs his mother.’

‘You are distressed, my tear. That old scoundrel… he is von vicked old devil… but ve vill outvit him yet.’

‘My children,’ murmured Caroline. ‘My little baby. Don’t you
see? This is his punishment to us! He is going to rob us of our children!’

He could not share her grief. He was planning ahead. He would have his court and the Prince’s court would be a rival to the King’s. It would be no different from before, except that the people would be sorry for him; they would be on his side. The old devil had not been so clever after all.

But Caroline was heartbroken. This was the cruellest blow he could have inflicted. Perhaps he knew it and that was why he had planned it. He was going to separate her from her children.

There was no time for grief. They were expected to leave on receipt of the King’s order.

‘Where to?’ asked Caroline in bewilderment.

No one knew. All that mattered was that they left St James’s without delay. It was the King’s wish that they did not spend another night under the same roof as himself.

Caroline called for Henrietta.

‘Tell the women to make ready. We are going at once.’

‘Where, Your Highness?’

‘That I cannot say. All I can tell you is that we are leaving St James’s.’

‘And the children?’ asked Henrietta.

‘They are to remain,’ replied Caroline, bitterly, ‘on the King’s orders.’

‘But…’

‘I can tell you no more,’ replied Caroline. ‘We are to leave at once.’

Mary Bellenden asked leave to give a note to the Prince or Princess. It was Caroline who took it and saw that it was from the Earl of Grantham. He had heard what had happened and wished to place his house in Albemarle Street at their disposal.

‘So,’ said Caroline blankly, ‘we have somewhere to go.’

At the same time the King’s messenger had arrived with a note to her from the King.

She read it eagerly, hoping that he had had some change of heart with regard to her children.

The King wrote that he understood she had not recovered
from her confinement and was not well enough to move at present. He would therefore grant her permission to stay at St James’s with her children, providing she made no attempt to communicate with her husband who must leave the palace without delay. Unless she kept this promise she would be banished with her husband while her children remained at St James’s.

Caroline re-read the letter. He was offering her her children or her husband.

Never in her life before had she had such a decision to make.

The Prince came to her. ‘Vat now?’ he asked; and when she showed him the letter, his face grew scarlet with rage.

‘He vould try to separate us… he vould try to tempt a vife from her husband!’

‘There are the children.’

‘You vill them see,’ he told her. ‘He does not say you vill not see them. From time to time, he says. But it vill not be for long. Ve vill think of something, my tearest.’

And she looked at him and knew that she must choose to be with him. She was necessary to him. What would become of him without her? What would become of them both? He was as one of her children and she dared not desert him now.

She wrote to the King: ‘Where my husband goes there must I go too.’

The maids of honour were packing hastily.

‘This is disastrous,’ said Margaret Meadows. ‘It is the beginning of real trouble between the King and the Prince.’

‘We’ll have a better time in the Prince’s court than in the King’s,’ commented Sophie Howe. ‘Of all the dreary places in the world… St James’s is the most dreary!’

‘I wish it were like that summer at Hampton,’ said Molly Lepel. ‘That was a glorious time.’

Mary Bellenden joined them; she was in high spirits, for where she went John Campbell, as gentleman of the Prince’s bedchamber, would go.

‘Are you ready?’ she cried. ‘Then come – over the hills and far away!’

The coach jolted along to Albemarle Street. Already there were
little knots of people in the streets to watch the party.

The Prince of Wales turned out of the Palace! Whoever heard of such a thing! These Germans had no family feeling. They didn’t want Germans here. King Charles had always been jovial and kind to members of his family. It had been a pleasure to see him with his little nieces. And his brother James had doted on Anne and Mary; Anne’s love for her only child who lived past his infancy was quite touching. But German George had been really cruel to the poor Princess. Not only had he taken her daughters from her but he had separated her from her newly born baby.