Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series) (45 page)

Caroline was very interested and they discussed painting of which she discovered Walpole to be a connoisseur.

‘I envy you,’ said Caroline. ‘You have doubtless heard that the Prince and I planned to spend the summer at Richmond Lodge and this has been denied us.’

‘Most churlishly, Madam.’

‘And so it seems as though ve are doomed to spent the hot weather in this place.’

‘Surely not, Madam.’

‘Vere then should ve spend it?’

‘Why not at Richmond Lodge?’

‘But the King has this forbidden. He has threatened to confiscate it if Grantham sells it to us… or even lends it.’

‘Has Your Highness considered whether it is in His Majesty’s power to do this?’

‘I do not you
comprendre
. . .’ said Caroline.

‘This is a constitutional monarchy, Madam. I doubt very much whether the King has the power to forbid a man to sell or lend what is his.’

‘You mean he may not?’

‘I mean, Madam, that if I were so treated I should find out what my position was with regard to the law.’

‘And you, Sir Robert…’

He smiled at her wryly. ‘Oh, I am a man in retirement, Your Highness. I merely offer advice.’

‘Thank you, Sir Robert,’ said Caroline.

I was right, she thought, to cultivate this man. He is for us and against the King, but he is too shrewd, too wily at this time when we are in decline and all the power is the King’s to say so.

Not a loyal friend? But he had never said he was a friend. He was a shrewd politician seeking his own advantage. Well, that was how Caroline would prefer him to be. He was the kind of man she would have about them when the time came.

The King at Hampton was angry. In spite of his wishes the Prince and Princess were installed in Richmond Lodge. His objections had been overruled. He had no power to prevent Grantham letting them have the house. In a constitutional monarchy such as this the law must prevail against the King’s pleasure.

Caroline was delighted. Not only was this a victory over the dour old King but they had this lovely house. The town of Richmond enchanted her; on either side of the river were meadows and here and there a charming country house. On one side of the house were the gardens which ran down to the river and on the other an avenue of trees which led to the little town, about half a mile distant.

It was near enough to London to make travel to and fro convenient and yet it was in the country. It was true the roads were
unsafe, but then so were all roads; and travellers should always endeavour to go back and forth by daylight.

Those first weeks at Richmond were delightful. So was everyone, including the country people who had heard the story and were amused because the Prince and Princess had outwitted the King and secured the house which he had tried to deny them.

There were cheers whenever any members of the Prince and Princess’s court sailed along the river. This river had now become gay with all the fashionable people who came to Richmond Lodge; and everyone who possessed a boat took it on to the river to hear the music from the Lodge which sounded very sweet and tuneful.

The Prince and the Princess were so much more gay than the King; and the people were on their side.

If I could have the children with me, now, thought Caroline, I would ask nothing more.

The day had been sultry and Caroline had felt so listless that she was in no mood for her usual walk.

This, she thought, is how one feels when one’s time is not far off – particularly after two recent miscarriages.

Yesterday had been a trying day. During the evening Bridget Carteret had ridden in in a state of hysteria. The whole of the Lodge, including herself and the Prince, had heard the girl screaming. Her coach had been stopped by highwaymen and all her jewels had been taken from her.

Bridget had had to be put to bed and comforted. The other girls had gathered in her room while she went over and over her adventure, remembering more and more terrifying moments and unnerving even the most practical of them.

They were now declaring that never, never would they take the dangerous road between Richmond and London after dusk.

Caroline called to Henrietta. What a comfort that creature was!

Henrietta was cool, efficient, pleasant-looking but not disturbingly beautiful. Between us, thought Caroline, we know exactly how to manage George Augustus. If he will stop pestering my silly girls we can conduct our lives in a dignified manner.

‘This Bridget Carteret affair, Henrietta,’ she said. ‘I suppose I must compensate her for her loss.’

‘There is no reason why Your Highness should, although, of course the girl would be delighted.’

Yes, thought Caroline, poor Bridget would. And it gave her great pleasure to look after her women.

‘There is a necklace… the one with the single diamond stone on a gold chain.’

‘I know the one, Madam.’

‘Bring it to me… and the gold watch you vill find there.’

Henrietta brought them and put them into Caroline’s hands.

‘They would be very handsome compensation,’ said Henrietta.

‘Vell, poor child, she was very frightened.’

‘We shall have all of them seeking adventures with highwaymen.’

‘Oh I don’t think so. They vouldn’t risk their lives for the sake of a few trinkets which, after all, might not adequately replace vat they had lost.’

‘The fact that they are given by Your Highness enhances their value.’

‘You flatter, Henrietta. Send for the little Carteret and afterwards bring my shoes and cloak. I vill go for a valk. I must make the most of the Richmond air.’

‘It is very overcast, Your Highness.’

‘I vill keep close to the Lodge.’

Bridget Carteret was delighted with the gifts and gave Caroline a graphic description of her adventure. While she was doing so it had become almost as dark as night outside, and the first raindrops had begun to fall.

‘This is going to be a bad storm, I fancy,’ said Caroline, going to the window. At that moment a flash of lightning lit up the room. The immediate crack of thunder showed it to be right overhead.

‘Your Highness should come away from the window,’ said Bridget. ‘I’ve heard…’

Caroline turned to smile at her lady-in-waiting.

‘It’s only a passing storm,’ she said.

‘In your condition, Madam…’ began Henrietta; and at that moment a flash more vivid than the last made Caroline step back
from the window; but just at that moment one of the elm trees came crashing down and there was a sound of breaking glass mingling with the roar of thunder.

Caroline cried out in alarm, stepped back hastily and tripped.

She was aware of the branches of the tree coming through the broken window, of the scream of Bridget Carteret, and of Henrietta bending over her before she lost consciousness.

She was lying in bed. The Prince was seated at her bedside, fussily attentive.

‘Vot have happened?’

‘You’re all right, my tear. The doctors haf assured me…’ He held her hand. ‘I haf been so anxious. You are tearer to me than my life. But it is all right. They have me told.’

‘The child…’

‘There vill be children. You vill not be upset now. You vill soon be vell… and that is my only concern.’

So she had lost the child!

Was there some curse on her? The children she had were taken from her; and it seemed that fate had decided she was not to bear another.

In time the Princess recovered from her disappointment. There would be another child, for George Augustus was as regular in his attentions to her as he was to his mistress. I cannot go on being so unfortunate, she told herself. And she must be grateful for her good health which helped her to recover from these disappointments more readily than most.

She fretted constantly for the children. She heard that Fritzchen was drinking too much, and was getting a taste for gambling; she heard too that he was not very strong. He was subject to fever; his back was weak so he was obliged to wear whalebone stays – not steel, which would have pressed uncomfortably on his nerves. He had glandular trouble. His doctors ordered a diet of asses’ milk. What was happening to Fritzchen? How unnatural that all these years should be allowed to pass and a mother not be permitted to see her son!

And the little girls? She heard that they had danced for their grandfather at Hampton; that they were treated with respect by
ambassadors – different from the way in which that unnatural man insisted his son and daughter-in-law should be treated! They did meet occasionally; but how difficult it was when George Augustus was not allowed to visit Hampton and they were surrounded by spies. The girls were growing up and one could not expect them to be unaffected by the conflict in the family.

How different was this summer from that glorious one at Hampton!

In Hampton George tried to forget that he had a son and daughter-in-law! He regarded Frederick Lewis, his grandson in Hanover, as his heir; and although he had no tenderness for his grandchildren he liked to see them now and then to remind himself of their existence and the power he had to take them from their parents.

From time to time he heard how the Princess grieved for them and that gave him a grim pleasure. The woman had flouted him; she was far too clever, luring men to her court and winning the affection of the people. She should pay for that as anyone who offended him had to pay.

He had no intention of trying to make Hampton like Richmond. His court would be as he liked it. Some might say it was dull but what did he care. His Duchesses of Kendal and Darlington – in other words Schulemburg and Kielmansegge – pleased him, particularly the former, without whom he never liked to go far. Ermengarda was to him as a wife – a good, placid wife who never stood in the way of anything he wanted. In his youth his hobbies had been war and women; now he was getting too old for war so it was merely women. But although he liked occasional variety, he went back and back again to Ermengarda. She was a rich woman in her own right now, for since she had been to England she had developed an unsuspected talent for amassing money, but that made no difference to their relationship. She was still his placid Ermengarda, always ready to obey.

There was one thing he did enjoy in England and that was the theatre.

He therefore had the great hall at Hampton fitted up as a theatre and sent to Colley Cibber and his company to come down to entertain him.

Cibber played Henry VIII and other Shakespearean plays, of which the King was especially fond; Cibber provided German translations which the King read beforehand that he might follow the action on the stage, and so delighted the King; and the King delighted Cibber.

This to the King was a pleasant existence: to see the play, with the Duchesses of Kendal and Darlington on either side of him – the three of them had long formed a habit of going about together – and then to retire with one of them, or a fancy of the moment, to what he called a seasonable bedtime.

So passed the summer months.

To see the King going to Drury Lane was a sight which amused the people of London. His sedan-chair would be carried from St James’s Palace, preceded by his beefeaters and guards. Immediately behind would be two other chairs, and if the people were lucky they would catch a glimpse of the red and black wigs above what they considered to be two of the most grotesquely ugly faces in the kingdom.

George cared nothing for the jeers of his subjects. Nor did his two mistresses, who in any case had grown accustomed to them.

And when he reached the theatre and was welcomed by the manager he would refuse the royal box and ask for one where he could not be so easily seen.

Then he would sit at the back of this, a Duchess on either side of him, and prepare to enjoy the play.

One evening that autumn as his chair came out of the palace, a young man leaped out of the crowd and ran towards the chair. If one of the guards had not seen him, he would have shot the King; as it was the bullet merely grazed the top of the chair.

The young man was seized and dragged away. The King went on to the theatre.

In the cart the young man was being taken to Tyburn. His name was James Shepherd and he was only eighteen years old.

He shouted to the crowd: ‘There is only one true King of England. He is James III. Down with the German!’

‘Down with the German!’ echoed many in the crowd.

‘He’s young to die,’ said others. ‘The King should have shown mercy.’

The Jacobites watched sullenly and said the King was a monster. His own wife, the Queen of England, was languishing in prison; he had quarrelled with his son; his daughter-in-law was deprived of her children. They hadn’t a king on the throne. They had a monster.

Some remembered that the Princess of Wales had pleaded for the boy. He was young, she said; he was doubtless led astray. Let him be punished in some slight way and cautioned.

But the King had ignored the pleas of the Princess of Wales, and James Shepherd was taken to Tyburn and the rope was placed about his neck.

Even the staunchest Hanoverians said as they watched that young body hanging there: ‘He is young to die.’

The King was aware of the murmurs against him. It was not often that he cared about public opinion. It had always been his comment that if the English didn’t want him here he would willingly go back to Hanover.

But he was angry that even out of such an incident as an attempt on his life and the – to him – perfectly just punishment of such an act, the Princess should squeeze a little popularity.

She was kind, they were saying now. She was humane. She had pleaded with the King to spare the life of the young man who had attempted to kill him. Of course she did! Doubtless she thought the fellow some sort of hero.

And the people admired her for it.

He was in this mood of resentment when Henry Howard, the husband of the Prince’s mistress, who was one of the grooms of his bedchamber, caught his eye. The King summoned Howard to him.

‘Is it not a rule,’ he said, ‘that the wives of men in my service should leave that of the Prince and Princess of Wales if they happen to be with them?’