Caroline the Queen

Court Scandals

THE whole Court was talking about Carlton House in Pall Mall which the Prince of Wales had bought from Lord Chesterfield. The cost was six thousand pounds, which of course the Prince could not pay, so he borrowed the money from his Treasurer giving his promise to repay it within a certain time.

The point was, of course, that when the time came he could not find the money so he had to borrow it from Dodington.

There was nothing unusual in this but for the fact that Frederick who, in the more refined company of Chesterfield had begun to tire of Dodington, boasted that he had wheedled the money out of Dodington who would never, very likely, see it again, as though in deceiving his onetime friend he had done something very clever.

‘A very odious young gentleman,’ commented Lord Hervey to Sir Robert Walpole when the latter came to the Palace to spend his usual session with the Queen.

To which Sir Robert replied, ‘You see into what honest and just hands the care and government of this country is likely one day to be committed!’

Lord Hervey agreed with him and asked himself how he could ever have looked upon that odious young gentleman as a friend.

His increased rancour towards the Prince made him think of Miss Vane and wonder how that ménage was faring. Thus when he occasionally saw the young woman he would look her way and she would look at him.

Her beauty had not diminished; in fact being the Prince’s acknowledged mistress had given her a new poise which was very becoming.

Lord Hervey noticed that she no longer gave him cold looks, but was warm, even inviting; and the prospect of what this could lead to was irresistible.

He had heard that she often took a walk in St James’s Park for her health’s sake and he contrived to be walking there at the same time.

They saw each other, but as Anne had a companion with her, did not speak. But on the next day Anne sent her companion back to her house for a glove which she said she had left behind and this gave her the opportunity to speak to Lord Hervey.

‘What a handsome woman!’ he said as he approached her.

‘What a handsome man! ‘ she retorted.

‘But I thought,’ Anne remarked with a laugh, ‘that they hated each other.’

‘You know they could never do that.’

‘It was jealousy,’ said Anne.

Hervey agreed, adding: ‘But we must waste no more time.’

‘I shall be joined by my companion soon. She has gone back for my glove. She’ll be here at any moment. She must not see us together. I no longer trust anyone and if it should get to Fred’s ears ...’

‘There is a coffee house,’ said Hervey, ‘behind Buckingham House. Let us meet there tomorrow afternoon and make ... plans.’

It was more than plans they made in the coffee house. They were both intrigued by the adventure. Anne admitted that she had always preferred Lord Hervey to any of her other lovers. He did not explain that his desire to revenge himself on the Prince of Wales was part of her attraction for him; in any case she was a very personable young woman; and her years with the Prince of Wales, being courted, meeting his friends, men of far greater intellect than his, had had their effect on her.

But she was ready for adventure, too. She had never meant to settle down, which was more or less what she had done since the birth of little FitzFrederick, and living in an establishment set up for her by the Prince of Wales had meant that she could not easily take other lovers.

It was amusing to arrive at the coffee house adequately disguised and mount to one of the rooms which the coffeehouse keeper kept for occasions such as these, to lock the door and laugh together at the success of their adventure.

And when they had made love she would tell him all the latest exploits of the Prince of Wales—how he was growing more and more tired of Bubb Dodington; how Bolingbroke was constantly with him, advising him this way and that; and how Lord Chesterfield was beginning to take the place which Dodington once had held, only of course the Prince could never despise him as he had poor Bubb. And the amusing thing was that it was Bubb who had introduced him to Mr Lyttleton who was becoming such a close friend and who was working hand in glove with Lord Chesterfield.

‘Poor Bubb!’ said Anne. ‘I don’t think he is going to last much longer.’

Then she would try to remember everything the Prince had said and done because her lover found that all so interesting; and as she was more devoted to Lord Hervey than to any lover she had ever had she wanted to keep him; therefore it was pleasant to have not only her considerable charms to offer but information which amused him so.

Every time they left the coffee house they made arrangements to meet again.

As they walked in the gardens the King talked to the Queen about the war in Europe.

This was the war of the Polish Succession. Louis XV had a Polish wife and he wanted to secure the throne for her father, Stanislaus Leczinski; Russia, Austria, and the German Princes backed the claims of the Saxon Elector, Augustus III, and when Louis had put his father-in-law on the throne the Russians had driven him from it and made Augustus King. The French, therefore, always with new territorial claims in view, instead of declaring war on Russia which was too far away, turned on Austria as the best way of helping Stanislaus Leczinski. But the real aim of the French was to oust the Habsburgs and secure French supremacy in Europe.

The Emperor naturally looked to his two allies, Holland and England.

The Princess Anne’s new husband went off to fight and the King was eager to do the same; and this was the theme of his conversation as he walked in the gardens with the Queen.

‘We must tell the fat man (his name for Walpole) that I am determined to go to war.’

‘Walpole is against England’s going into the war.’

‘Then he must change his mind. It is England’s duty to be in this war. Why should I stand by and see other generals win the laurels which by rights belong to me!’

‘We must persuade him,’ said the Queen. ‘We must make him see that it is our wish.’

‘Send for him! Send for him as soon as we return to the Palace.’

‘Shall we return now?’

The King hesitated and looked at his watch. Not even for the sake of the war would he interrupt a habit.

‘Fifteen minutes more,’ he said.

Caroline sighed inwardly. Her legs ached. They were becoming more and more swollen and the pain was increasing. She was beginning to dread these walks; she was terrified that she would betray the fact that they were too much for her.

‘We shall soon have Anne back with us,’ she said.

It was an unfortunate remark because it reminded the King that Anne’s husband, the Prince of Orange, had gone to the wars and that was why she would be able to pay a visit to her parents so soon after her marriage.

‘That baboon! He can go to war. He can win distinction in battle while I ...’

‘We will talk to the fat man,’ said the Queen.

He glowered at her, venting on her the anger he felt towards a fate which denied him battle honours.

‘And who are you to laugh at the fat man? We should call you the fat woman. The way you stuff away at your chocolate is the cause.’

She was silent, hoping no one had heard, for he had raised his voice and their attendants always kept a respectful though not too remote distance as they walked.

Why did she not retort: And you, you silly little man, have scarcely a thought in your head that doesn’t spring from your own vanity.

Then she fell to wondering why it was that in spite of all his faults she was fond of him and could not imagine her life without him; and she knew that in spite of the way in which she constantly irritated him he admired and loved her more than any other person on Earth. If anyone else had attempted to criticize her he would have fallen into a passion of rage. She was his, entirely his, and to him only belonged the right to abuse.

She sighed and gave her mind up to the persuasion she would use with Walpole, for this was one of the rare occasions when she and the King were on one side against the Prime Minister.

Walpole faced them in the King’s closet. He was as determined as they were. England was not going to war. Usually he could rely on the Queen, but this time she was against him.

Germans! thought Walpole. Both of them, and in an issue like this it comes out. But England is not going to be sacrificed for the sake of Germany for a hundred Kings and Queens.

‘Your Majesties, the English people want peace. They have no heart for this fight.’

The King’s eyes bulged with fury. ‘We have our duty to think of.’

‘I know Your Majesty will agree with me that our first duty is to the people of this country.’

‘It is the people of this country I think of.’

‘Then Your Majesty will rejoice in the prosperity we have brought to them and join with me in admitting that this prosperity is entirely due to peace.’

‘And when the French are in command of Europe what peace then?’

‘Your Majesty, countries rarely prosper from wars. This will be no easy conquest. And in the unlikely event of Louis’ and Fleury’s conquering Europe, France will be exhausted by the struggle and we so strong because of our exemption from it that we will be in command.’

‘We have our duty,’ said the King. ‘The Queen and I cannot hold up our heads if we desert our allies.’

‘Your Majesties will hold up your heads very proudly among the English if you keep them out of war.’

The King began one of his harangues, not very logical, not very lucid, thought Walpole. What a German he is! His heart is in Germany. And he’s a fool—a conceited fool who wants to plunge this country into war so that he can parade as a brilliant soldier, so that he can come home and wear the crown of laurels. But it shall not be. This is my country as well as his and I am going to keep it at peace.

And the Queen? He was disappointed in the Queen. She was a German at heart too. She could not conceive that the German Empire should be at war and she not with it. She had once seemed so loyal to England; she had really loved her new country. But she was ill. Walpole noticed the physical deterioration. There were times when she could scarcely stand for fatigue and she continued to, smiling, pretending, because in this royal family there was something shameful about confessing to physical defects.

Mrs Clayton had some hold over her. Not that Mrs Clayton would ever dare threaten the Queen. It was as though she kept a secret and her reward for doing so was to be on very specially intimate terms.

Strange that she should support the King in this. Was it love of Germany, the effect of fatigue, or the knowledge that the King was so set on going to war that he would never be deterred from this desire and she had no intention of attempting something which she knew could only end in defeat.

Was she losing her physical hold on him? In spite of his infidelities he was still an uxorious husband. He thought Caroline beautiful; he spent his allotted time with her; her hold on him, Walpole had always known, was partly physical. If that side of their relationship ceased, immediately the bond would slacken. George was that sort of man.

What an anxiety for the Queen!

He brought his mind back to George’s torrent of words, but he was not going to be moved by them. He would lose his favour with them both rather than see England forced into a war which could do her no good and could be brought to no satisfactory conclusion. He thought Louis a fool to have put his father-in-law on the Polish throne for sentimental reasons, for that was what it amounted to. Cardinal Fleury, the real ruler of France, must have deplored that action, but at the same time was using the situation to make a fresh bid to satisfy French territorial claims.

Foolish Louis! He, Walpole, would see that George should not be as foolish.

George was glaring at him, eyes bulging, wig askew, cheeks purple; but Walpole lowered his eyes and said coolly : ‘If England takes part in this fight for a Polish crown, the Crown of England will as surely be come to be fought for as that of Poland. And now may I have Your Majesties leave to retire.’

‘You have ‘ shouted the King. ‘And go ... and don’t come back until you have some sense.’

In the coffee house behind Buckingham House, Hervey waited for Anne Vane. He was eager. He had rarely enjoyed an adventure so much; not only had he an extremely pretty and experienced mistress but he was at the same time cuckolding his great enemy the Prince of Wales; he was also dabbling in intrigue because in all affairs at Court, however ineffectual he was as a man, the Prince was a figurehead and therefore of importance.

Walpole was delighted with the information he could bring to him; and it was amusing and stimulating for Lord Hervey to be the close friend and informant of the Prime Minister.

Anne came breathlessly and a little distraught.

‘My dearest,’ said Hervey, ‘what is wrong?’

His heart leaped with excitement. Had the Prince discovered their liaison; he almost hoped he had because it would be so amusing.

‘It’s Fred.’

‘Naturally.’

‘He wants me to take a house in Wimbledon.’

‘He has discovered ...’

She laughed. ‘Not he. There’d be real trouble if he had. He’s worried about FitzFrederick’s health and he thinks the air of London bad for him.’

‘He’s not tiring of you?’

‘No. Never! But he really is fond of FitzFred. He’s continually finding similarities in him to himself.’

‘I hope they are not obvious to others ... for poor little Fitz’s sake.’

‘No. He just imagines. But what about my going to Wimbledon?’

‘We’ll find a way.’

‘I shall have to come up ... at least once a week. You’ll have to come to my house there. We’ll have to give up this coffee house.’

Hervey was not displeased. This gave a new impetus to the adventure.

They embraced and afterwards talked of Frederick.

‘He wants to go to the wars.’

‘Like Papa to fight for Germany.’

‘He fancies himself as a soldier.’

‘They all do ... these Germans. It’s the military instinct. And Fred is angry because he is not allowed to go.’

‘They’re on at him all the time. Lyttleton and Chesterfield with Bolingbroke in the background. He ought to have this.... He ought to have that. Poor Bubb is going to be dropped soon. I don’t know how he’ll take it. The Opposition is going to agitate for war ... just to try to get Walpole out.’

‘They won’t. But it’s amusing to see them try.’

‘Let’s talk about Wimbledon and what we shall do when I’m there.’

They arranged that Anne should come up to London one day a week to her town house. There she would keep only one servant while she was in Wimbledon and see that this servant was out when Hervey arranged to call.

This seemed very suitable and having made their plans Hervey went straight to see Walpole to tell him the effect the King’s clamouring for war was having on the Prince of Wales and his enemies in the Opposition.

He found Walpole in a state of great irritation.

‘I have just been given this paper,’ he told Hervey. ‘Look at it. In French! You can help me translate. It’s written by Haltorf.’

‘Ha!’ cried Hervey. ‘One guesses where Philip von Haltorf’s sympathies lie!’

‘Be fair to the man. He is a German, as well as minister in London for Hanoverian affairs.’

‘And so determined to sacrifice England for Hanover.’

‘As we are determined that England shall make no sacrifices for the Germans.’

Hervey scrutinized the paper.

‘I see he is most disturbed by the growing power of France and the House of Bourbon. He recalls the wars of Queen Anne’s reign. He does not understand why the country which went to war then so readily should be so chary of doing so now. If England does not interfere, France will dominate England.’

‘I shall answer each paragraph separately.’

‘The King will be very peevish.’

‘My lord, England shall not go to war to please a peevish boy.’

‘Not when Sir Robert Walpole—and in his humble way Lord Hervey—are there to prevent it.’

Walpole grasped his hand warmly and Hervey responded with real affection.

The King continued to fume and the Queen, to Walpole’s disappointment, remained sturdily beside her husband in this matter. ‘The first time I have known her judgment to fail,’ Walpole commented to Hervey. George’s temper grew worse and everyone who came near him suffered for it, the Queen most of all in spite of the fact that she supported him in his desire.

Walpole remained firm. England was not going to war under his leadership; and even the King had to admit that if the matter were put to the country the people would be behind Walpole.

In spite of Hervey’s agreeing with Walpole the Queen liked him none the less. In fact he was growing more and more friendly with her; and this meant that he was on more intimate terms with the King.

Caroline had asked the King to give him an extra thousand pounds a year.

The creature is worth it,’ she said. ‘He is so diverting.’

The King grunted that people at the Court should serve their Majesties for the honour of it, but he agreed that Hervey should have the money.

As a result Hervey grew bolder and bolder and would joke with the Queen in the frankest way; and although she often reproved him for his lack of respect she always did so jokingly and did not wish him to change his manner towards her.

Whenever she rode out he must be beside her chaise. Divert my attention, I pray you,’ she would say, ‘from these tiresome people who so like to hunt little animals to the death.’

And he would remember the latest scandal and tell it so maliciously that she would indeed be diverted and find the hunt a pleasure instead of a bore.

She would call him ‘child’ now and then; and refer to him as her ‘pupil’ and her ‘charge’. All this in the utmost affection; and she would even allow him to laugh at the Prince of Wales, and although she pretended to be shocked and would reprove him with mock sternness he knew that she liked this conversation better than that about anyone else.

So during those months as the antagonism between the Prince of Wales and his parents grew stronger, so did the Queen’s affection for Lord Hervey.

Once when Charlotte Clayton came in and found the Queen and Lord Hervey deep in bantering conversation, Caroline said: ‘If I were not so old I should be talked of for this creature.’

Charlotte Clayton smiled benignly. Hervey had made sure that he kept in her good graces for Walpole had told him that it was his belief that Mrs Clayton had some hold over the Queen and therefore carried influence with her.

The Queen was delighted because her daughter Anne was coming to England for a visit. This was a great pleasure, for Caroline had only discovered how sadly she would miss her daughter when she had left; and often she would wake up in the night thinking of Anne with that grotesque creature beside her.

And now Anne was coming home because the Prince of Orange was away from Holland fighting.

When the King heard, he was half pleased, half angry. Of all his children, strangely enough he preferred Anne, although that did not mean he had a great affection for her because he cared little for any of his children. But he was sentimental enough to imagine he was pleased to have her home again. Then he began raging because Orange was fighting and he wasn’t.

‘That baboon! ‘ he said. ‘A soldier.’ He glanced in a mirror. Did he see himself as he really was? wondered Caroline. Or did some tall and handsome hero look back at him from the glass? ‘And here am I fiddle faddling at this Court when I should be there.’ Then another thought struck him. ‘I suppose Orange will pay for her journey.’

The Queen soothed him as she so well knew how to do. ‘I am sure Anne will be so pleased that you are not at the wars,’ she said. ‘Otherwise she would miss the pleasure of seeing you.’

He grunted, believing the Queen was right in that.

But he continued to grumble about the ‘gros homme’his name for Walpole who had been so high-handed over this matter and was having his way, too, in keeping England out of the war.

‘A King’s not a King in this place,’ said George, kicking at a stool. ‘Now at Hanover ...’

‘Ah, yes! ‘ sighed the Queen.

She too was thinking of the ‘gros homme’. He had opposed her over this and she was beginning to wonder whether he did not guide her as she guided the King. But it was the first real difference of opinion they had had; and she must remember that she was after all a German and that it was natural to feel this pull towards one’s own roots. It was the same with Walpole. He was English and to him Hanover was a remote Electorate and he was determined to see that it was never allowed to be an incumbrance to England.

The King left her and she was glad that he had gone before Walpole called for his usual session with her.

As she received him in her closet, she thought he looked less robust than usual; and when a man with his port-wine complexion looked a little pale he somehow contrived to look more ill than a man whose pallor was constant.

This disagreement has upset him, thought the Queen.

Walpole thought the Queen looked extremely fatigued and he was overcome with a sudden fear. Was she concealing an illness? It suddenly struck him that a knowledge of some disability might be the reason for Charlotte Clayton’s hold on her.

He bowed and looked at her almost tenderly. But he could not resist saying what he had come to say.

‘I have just heard, Madam,’ he said, ‘that fifty thousand were slain this year in Europe. And not one of them an Englishman ‘

‘It is sad that fifty thousand have been slain,’ said the Queen.

‘But a matter of rejoicing for this country that not one of them is an Englishman. It brings satisfaction to know they owe their safety to those under whose care and protection they are, and to be able to say that while the rest of Europe has suffered England remains in its full and unimpaired vigour.’

‘You think only of England, Sir Robert.’

‘Ah, Madam, whatever motives of partiality sway me, ought they not naturally with double weight to bias you who have so much more at stake?’

She smiled at him affectionately.

‘I see, Madam,’ he said, ‘that you are inclined to agree with me, and that gives me great pleasure.’

Walpole commented to Lord Hervey afterwards that although the Queen’s good sense told her he was right, she was inclined to cling to her own opinions.

Walpole shrugged his shoulders. ‘And if she cannot convince herself of what in her heart she knows to be right, what chance have I of doing so?’

But as Hervey pointed out it was the government that decided the policy of the country, not the monarch. Absolute monarchy had gone out with the Stuarts.

Anne arrived surprisingly ebullient.

She imparted the news to her mother with the greatest satisfaction. ‘I am to have a child, Mother.’

‘My dearest daughter!’ Caroline embraced her, and checked her own misgivings. What if Anne should give birth to a monster resembling its father!

‘I hope for a son, naturally,’ said Anne.

‘Your husband must be delighted.’

‘It is no more than Pepin expects.’

Pepin! she spoke his name affectionately. How could she be so satisfied with her fate!

But there was no doubt that she was delighted to be back in England and she expressed no anxiety because Pepin was at the wars.

It seemed, thought Caroline, that all Anne cared about was her position; she had no reason to be very proud of it, but at least she had a husband who was a Prince and she was pregnant and might well give birth to a Prince. What an ambitious mother she would make!

Her new status clearly delighted her as much as it infuriated Frederick. Lord Hervey discovered how angry he was through Anne Vane who said that he had become really bitter since his sister Anne had returned. Frederick would not be contented to remain unmarried and deprived of his rightful allowance much longer. There was going to be trouble with Frederick.

Amelia told Anne to her face that she could not understand how she could possibly become pregnant by such a creature as the Prince of Orange.

‘In the usual way,’ retorted Anne tartly. ‘I often think of you, my poor sister, and what will become of you if. ever Frederick comes to the throne.’

Caroline tried to make peace between the sisters, but Anne snubbed her and said she was even more sorry for her than she was for Amelia.

In spite of differences with her sisters Anne was enjoying her visit. She spent a great deal of time with her mother and they talked of the problems of being married to a ruler of a state; and Caroline, in any case, was delighted to have her daughter with her.

The King was pleased too. He made Anne walk with him, and he grew very sentimental about her and told her about the days when she had been a baby in Hanover.

‘Before we came to this place,’ he said darkly.

‘In the days when you were less important than you are now, Papa.’ Anne had a sharp tongue and had no intention of sparing anyone except Pepin.

‘Less important! Why I tell you this : In Hanover a ruler is a ruler. Here a King does what a fat man tells him to.’

‘The world takes more account of a King than an Elector, though,’ Anne replied.

And he would have grown peevish if he had not schooled himself to believe he was a sentimental parent.

When they had parted Anne met Lord Hervey on his way to her mother’s apartment.

‘You are in more constant attendance on my mother than the King,’ she commented.

‘It is Her Majesty’s wish that I divert her.’

‘As I am sure you do. Poor Mamma! I am glad that she has a little diversion. The company of some people must be very oppressive. I am glad that Lady Suffolk has been dismissed.’

‘Some of us, who are devoted to the Queen, fear that another might take her place who might be more troublesome and more powerful.’

‘Oh, I wish with all my heart that he would find someone else, then Mamma would be a little relieved of seeing him constantly in her rooms.’

Lord Hervey made no comment, but he thought that the Princess Anne was as outspoken as he was, the difference being, of course, that he was only frank where he knew how his frankness would be received.

The King was taking a new interest in his young daughters, Mary and Louisa. Mary was now ten and Louisa nine.

‘An interesting age,’ said the King; and he had begun to make a practice of visiting their nursery. The strange thing was that he contrived to do this when the children were not there, and thus he was ensured a private tête-à-tête with their governess.

Lady Deloraine was a very pretty and very frivolous widow, whose husband Henry Scott, Earl of Deloraine, had died a few years before. She was coquettish, indiscreet, and rather silly; but her extremely feminine charms had attracted the King when, having lost Lady Suffolk, he thought it was necessary to his prestige as a man to look round and find a new mistress.

Lady Deloraine had opened her eyes very wide as he entered the nurseries, had swept a deep curtsey and been very respectful, although at the same time implying by the fluttering of her eyelashes and the little giggle with which she punctuated her speech every now and then that she was aware of the King’s motive.

George lapsed into English when he addressed her, which was a language he used rarely now. If people did not understand French or German, he often said, they must not expect to understand him. It was all part of the growing dislike of the country of which he was king.

Tell,’ he said, ‘you are von pretty voman.’

‘Your Majesty is gracious.’

He took her ear and pinched it very gently, at which she sprang back as though in dismay.

‘And were are your charges?’

‘They are walking, Your Majesty, in the gardens. If you would wish me to have them sent for ...’

‘No ... no.... You shall tell me about them. You are the governess. Ve vill sit down and you vill tell.’

So they sat side by side and the King put his arm about her. She had a good body, he thought; not too thin. He did not like them thin. He liked a good ample figure like his dear wife’s.

‘I fear I am not very learned, Your Majesty.’

‘Oh, for shame and you a governess!’

She pretended to look downcast and he patted her hand. ‘I have no respect for all this learning. Boets! Vat are they? Scribble scribble. It is all very yell for people like little Mr Pope. He has no other things to do. But I alvays felt learning was something below me. Nor for a man ... like going to var or ... making love.’

Lady Deloraine squealed with horror.

The King laughed and looked at his watch.

‘Come,’ he said, ‘ye have the time.’

So he rose and gave her his hand; and squealing with pretended horror and assuring His Majesty that she was a very virtuous woman, she allowed herself to be led into one of the bedchambers.

The Queen was very sad when her daughter departed. Lord Hervey called to find her in the long drawing room with her daughter Caroline.

‘What, Madam,’ he said, ‘drowning your sorrows in chocolate! Ah well, parting is such sweet sorrow, the poet tells us and you, having some respect for boets … er poets ... believe the truth of this.’

The Queen’s face brightened at the sight of her favourite.

‘Come here, you wicked infant,’ she said, ‘and make me laugh, because I am truly sad to think of my dear Anne going back to that creature of hers.’

‘Oh, Mamma, he is her husband.’

Lord Hervey turned his eyes to the Princess Caroline and basked for a few seconds in her adoration.

‘The Princess Caroline has the best heart in the world,’ he said.

‘I think we are all sorry for poor Anne.’

‘Which happily is more than she is for herself. The Princess Anne pities her sisters.’

‘How I wish the dear child were with me. It is so sad when one’s daughters are taken from one. I am glad I have dear Caroline.’

Caroline took her mother’s hand and kissed it. She looked forward to these meetings for three as much as the other two. She wanted to be the constant companion of the Queen and her adored Hervey; and since she knew that he being married and she a Princess, nothing could come of her devotion, she believed it was preferable that her mother share their interviews.

Lord Hervey declined the chocolate they offered him. ‘It would be too rich for my digestion, Your Majesty.’ ‘Are you still living on nothing?’

‘I cling to my diet. It is the only way of keeping me on my feet.’

‘Oh, then you certainly must. What should we do if you failed to visit us.’

‘For Your Majesty’s sake I would live on husks for the rest of my life.’

‘Does he not say charming things, Caroline?’ asked the Queen.

‘I think Lord Hervey knows,’ said the Princess gravely, ‘that he is the most charming man in the world.’

‘The best heart in the world. The most charming man in the world. What a worldly pair you are! And how much travelled to be able to make such comparisons. I would content myself by saying of the Court ... of England ... but for you it must be the world.’

This pleasant raillery was interrupted by the arrival of the King.

He scowled to see the chocolate, but he was clearly too disturbed to give it the attention he would otherwise have done.

‘Anne is back in England,’ he said.

The Queen had grown pale and risen from her chair; the Princess Caroline gave a startled exclamation and Hervey, head bowed, was alert.

‘Yes,’ said the King, speaking rapidly in French. ‘She has come back. I have had notice of this.’

‘But why ...?’ asked the Queen.

‘She had taken off and the sea was rough, so she says, and she feared for her life and that of the child, so she ordered the captain to return to England. She is at Harwich now … abed. And says she cannot stir for fear of a miscarriage.’

‘We must have her brought here ... or we must go to her,’ began the Queen; but the King interrupted angrily: ‘She talked of lying-in in England. It is what she wishes. Orange wishes her to go to Holland, of course.’

‘It is only natural that he should wish the Prince of Orange to be born in Orange, Your Majesty,’ said Hervey.

The King looked at Hervey and grunted. Then he nodded. ‘Natural,’ he said. ‘Natural, of course. She’ll have to go back.’

‘But if she is ill ...’ began the Queen; the King silenced her with a scowl.

‘She can’t lie-in here,’ said the King. ‘It wouldn’t be right and ... think of the expense! We have had enough with her marriage. She shall rest awhile and then . . . back to Holland for the birth of the baby.’

A great deal of correspondence was going on between Harwich and London.

The Princess Anne remained in her bed at Harwich and wrote to her parents that she must stay in England. She must lie-in there. It was imperative for her own safety and that of her child.

The Queen was distraught and the King growing more and more angry every day; but the Princess of Orange was using all her powers of persuasion to remain while the Prince of Orange, realizing that as a matter of honour his son should not be born in England, insisted that his wife return to Calais where he would meet her and take good care that she suffered no ill effects from the journey.

‘She must go without delay,’ said the King.

The Queen wanted to remonstrate with him but dared not. Lady Deloraine was his mistress and she was not a very important woman, but Walpole had pointed out that although she was a silly, empty-headed creature, fools were often very easy to handle by scheming men, and the fact that the King had now a more or less settled mistress would make them watchful. The Queen must not lose her hold on the King.

Therefore what could the Queen do but side with her husband, particularly as she knew from reports that Anne’s malady was largely due to a desire to stay in England, and not go back to Holland.

Poor Anne! She had her husband and her title; and soon she would have her child; that was all she needed. She did not want to have to go to a strange land and live with a monster when there were her own dear family in England. Not that Anne had ever held her family very dear. But, reasoned the Queen, familiarity was always dear, particularly when it was about to be lost.

If only Anne could have stayed for the confinement she would have been happy.

‘She must go,’ thundered the King. ‘Her place is with her husband.’

The people took sides and of course were on Anne’s. She wanted to stay in England naturally enough, said the English. She did not want to go back to that deformed husband of hers. Well, who could blame her?

The lampoonists had a new theme.

‘Got dam the boets,’ said George, and took action. The Princess Anne was to return to Holland, but she was not to come to London. He was not going to have the people lining the streets and cheering her. She was to take the nearest route from Harwich to Dover.

A letter came back from the Princess with the plaintive comments that her advisers had told her that the roads between Harwich and Dover were impassable by coach at this time of the year and that if she went to Dover the only route would be by way of London.

The King was furious, but was assured by his advisers that what the Princess said was true and if she was to go to Dover she must come by way of London.

‘Well then,’ said the King, ‘she may come and go over the bridge, but she shall not lie-in in St James’s, nor shall she stay in London but just pass through.’

‘Does Your Majesty mean,’ asked the Queen, ‘that none of us are to see her?’

It is what I mean, Madam,’ he said, growing irascible. It seems ... hard....’

‘You are criticizing my conduct of this affair?’

‘Of course not.’

‘I am glad of that,’ he cried, ‘for I would have you know, Madam, that you would do better to stuff your chocolate and grow as fat as a pig though I own this is bad for you ... than interfere with what I decide shall be done.’

His face purple he strode from the apartment and the Queen, her face tinged with pink, her downcast eyes filled with tears, was silent.

And so the Princess of Orange passed over London Bridge and through London without seeing any of her family, and as the journey had been kept a secret there was none to cheer her as she passed along. At Dover she embarked in the vessel which was waiting to carry her to Calais; and there Pepin was waiting for her, looking even more hideous than she remembered him because of the sourness of his expression.

They made a somewhat sullen journey through Flanders to Holland.

In his lodgings in St James’s Lord Hervey was waiting for the arrival of his mistress.

He had not yet tired of her for she was amusing and of course her greatest charm in his eyes was her relationship to the Prince of Wales. He needed such a fillip to rouse his desire for a woman.

For I do believe, he said, studying his reflection in the mirror in his bedchamber, I have a greater preference for members of my own sex. Dear Stephen!

They were still the best of friends, but since his deeper friendship with the Queen, his platonic but extremely enjoyable flirtation with the Princess Caroline, and his intrigue with Anne Vane, he had little time for further outlets. Stephen must understand this.

Oh dear, he thought, it is a very feminine entourage at the moment!

He was looking pale. He pulled down his lids and looked at his eyes. Not as clear as they might be! Was he taking too much rich food? His figure was as elegant as ever. He would hate to be like le gros homme. What a figure! And the man’s legs were very swollen. Weighed down with all that weight doubtless. But he had his love affairs. The one with the Skerrett woman was quite notorious.

Well, each to his taste, and now my little Vane you are overdue and I long to hear the latest exploits of His Royal Highness.

He had taken to receiving her here in his own apartments because he did not care for her house when all the servants were away—and of course they must be away for her to receive him there.

A man needed a little refreshment after the exertions of love-making. A dish of tea, a little fruit, neither very harmful for the figure and so reviving!

He smiled to think of Anne opening the door of her house for him and ushering him in. What risks they ran—at least she did. If this liaison were discovered he would merely be laughed at and perhaps admired in some quarters. He could not be more disliked by the Prince of Wales than he was at present. But she, poor girl, would be ruined. If Frederick discarded her what could she hope for? Some other man perhaps to set her up? But no one, of course, could give her the standing which the Prince of Wales could. Yes, she faced ruin for the sake of receiving him. A pleasant thought, for it was gratifying to have such devoted friends.

His wife, Molly, was away on the Continent with some friends and she would be there for some months. Well, if she knew that he were entertaining the little Vane she would only shrug her shoulders and laugh. She had never expected fidelity from him. She was faithful, but not out of love for her husband; simply because love-making—marital or extra-marital—had no charm for her.

He couldn’t have made a more successful marriage.

And here was his mistress, be-cloaked and be-hatted, to hide herself so that no one would see the Prince’s mistress entering the lodgings of that scandalous fellow, Lord Hervey.

‘My dear Anne! ‘

‘My dear lord, I thought I should never get here.’ ‘Don’t tell me His Royal Highness made difficulties?’

‘He stayed longer than I believed he would, and so delayed me.’

‘He is coming back tonight?’

‘No. I have the evening free.’

‘Then let us make the most of the time at our disposal. I have had a little supper prepared before I dismissed my servants.’

‘Supper for two?’ she asked. ‘I hope so, for although you eat like a bird, I eat like an ox.’

‘I prefer the lion and the lamb because they lie down together.’

Anne laughed and said she hoped he didn’t say such things to the Queen ... or the Princess Caroline.

‘You would be surprised if you heard what I said to them.’

‘Everyone is surprised.’

They sat down at the table and he told her that his wife would not be back for several months and as there was no danger of her coming here he did not see why they should not make his lodgings their meeting place.

‘It’s comfortable ... as far as I can see,’ she said. ‘Well, let us sup.’

‘I’m ready.’

Over supper they talked of the latest development in the estrangement between the Prince and Bubb Dodington.

‘Of course, when he bought Carlton House with money borrowed from Bubb he told his dear friend that he wanted it because it was next to his house in Pall Mall and he gave Bubb a key to the door in the wall which separated their gardens. “Call any time you like, dear Bubb. Don’t stand on ceremony in the house you have bought! “ For bought it he had. Bubb will never see his money, you can be sure. In fact Fred boasts of it and laughs every time he comes into the house. But those days are over. No more free and easy for Mr Bubb! Do you know what Fred has done?’

‘I can’t wait to hear.’

‘He’s had the door bricked up. Not secretly. He had more workmen than he needed hammering away there. He didn’t want anyone to have any doubt what it was all about. Poor Mrs Behan . . . really Mrs Bubb, you know.’

‘Interesting situation,’ commented Hervey. ‘The wife parading as the mistress. Now the other way round ...’

‘Oh, there’s some other woman in it who’d get money from him if she knew he was married to someone else.’

‘So he is a romantic after all, our poor Bubb. And two women love him! ‘

‘Love his money you mean.’

‘Well, they are only following the royal example. But the Prince is not even faithful to poor Bubb’s money!’

‘Bubb has Mrs B. She’ll look after him. He’ll never face Court after this. I think she’ll make him retire to the country.’

‘The best place for him. There is a great deal to be said for the country.’

‘There are some who think that’ll soon be my lot.’

‘What’s this?’ There was real alarm in Hervey’s voice.

‘Several of my friends are pointing out to me that Fred is seen very often in the company of Lady Archibald Hamilton.’

‘That woman! She’s all of five and thirty. She’s been married for years! Imagine it! Years of lying beside a man old enough to be her father! ‘

‘But not too old to give her ten children ‘

‘And you are afraid of a mother of ten—five and thirty years old at that! ‘

‘It’s not I who am afraid. It’s my friends who are afraid for me.’

‘Hamilton,’ mused Hervey. ‘He’s so quiet I can hardly remember what he looks like. He’s a Lord of the Admiralty, I believe.’

‘That’s so. Lord Archibald Hamilton, Scottish and complacent.’

‘Would he be complaisant too?’

‘No one ever seems to have seen him put out.’

‘A born cuckold. Beware. Some men choose their mistresses for their husbands.’

‘Not my Fred. He’d never be wise enough.’

So they chatted over the meal, and when they had finished, retired to the bedroom.

They made love and as they lay talking Anne suddenly cried out in pain.

Hervey sat up in alarm. ‘What ails you?’

‘The colic,’ she said. ‘I’ve been having it more frequently lately. I’ll be all right in a moment.’

‘Lie still,’ he said, and she lay back and closed her eyes.

She looked very ill and was suddenly seized with convulsions. Hervey remembered what she had told him of these fits to which she was subject, but he had never seen her in one before. She had once said that a physician had told her that she could die during one of her fits.

‘Anne,’ cried Hervey, ‘for God’s sake ... tell me what I can get you?’

She did not answer and he stood by the bed in dismay, looking down at her writhing body.

She is going to die, he thought. Here in my bed she is going to die. What can I do? The Prince’s mistress found dead in my bed! This will be the end of everything. Even the Queen and the Princess Caroline could not get me out of this trouble.

‘Anne! ‘ he cried frantically. ‘Anne.’

But she did not hear him. Fortunately a hypochondriac such as he was had plenty of pills and cordials to hand; and as the collecting of medicine was a hobby of his, and the discussion of varied diseases one he found extremely fascinating, he was not at so much of a loss as most men would have been in the circumstances.

He hurried to his medicine chest and brought out gold powder which he forced down her throat. But she continued in convulsions. He then took a bottle of cordial and gave her some of that, without effect.

She was moaning softly and he was growing more and more terrified every moment.

He went back to his medicine. What can save her? he asked himself frantically. And was it wise after having given her the gold powder and the cordials, to give her more?

‘Tell me what I can do?’ he cried. ‘Tell me what you want?’

Her writhing ceased and she was suddenly very still.

In terror he took her wrist. Her pulse was feeble but he could feel it. Thank God she was still alive!

He called her name again and again, but she was in a deep faint.

What could he do? He daren’t call a doctor who might recognize her. It was so widely known that she was the Prince’s mistress. The story would be all over the town by morning.

He bent over her. ‘Anne,’ he cried urgently. ‘You must rouse yourself. I must get you out of here.’

But still she did not answer.

He sat on the bed watching her. He saw the pleasant position he had made for himself at Court lost for ever. What would the Queen say when she heard? It was not that she would be shocked, but how could she keep close to her a man who had been involved in such a scandal?

‘Anne!’ His voice rose on a note of shrill joy, for she had opened her eyes. ‘Oh, Anne ... thank God you’re alive.’

‘I ... feel so weak,’ she said.

‘I know ... I know ... but we must get you out of here.’

‘Get a hot napkin and put it on my stomach. I’m shivering.’

It was true. He could hear her teeth chattering.

He hurried away and found napkins which he warmed; he brought them to her but she started to twitch again and he called out in his agony of fear.

‘What do you need?’ he cried. ‘What can I get?’ Have you gold powder?’

He brought it and she swallowed it.

‘That’s ... a little better,’ she said.

‘You must get up. You must get dressed. We must somehow get you back to your house.’

But she shook her head and closed her eyes.

‘Come, Anne,’ he said. ‘You must try to rouse yourself. You must not be found here. It will be the end of you ... the end of us both ... if you are.’

But she did not seem to take in what he said.

He managed to lift her out of the bed; he sat her in a chair and began to dress her. She was limp and unable to help him, but after a great deal of fumbling he had her dressed. She swayed as he made her stand, but he was feeling better now. He managed to get her out of the house and half carry her some little distance away.

Good luck was with him, for he found a Sedan and setting her in it paid the chairmen handsomely to take her back to her house.

‘The lady had been taken ill,’ he said.

The chairmen replied that they would see that she arrived safely.

Hervey went back to his bedroom, threw himself on the bed, and discovered that he himself was on the verge of collapse.

The King’s birthday, the 10th November, must be celebrated at St James’s and a round of festivities began.

Caroline, whose health had been growing steadily worse over the last months, felt the strain badly, yet she dared not complain to the King.

Hervey was constantly at her side. He had quickly recovered from the shock of what had happened in his apartments when he saw Anne Vane going about her everyday concerns as though nothing had happened. They never spoke to each other publicly, keeping up the pretence that they were enemies all of which added to the piquancy of their affair. She came again to his lodgings and told him that she had had such attacks before—colics, she called them. She recovered, and after a day’s rest was perfectly well.

From then on the fear that she might die in his bed was an added fillip to his feelings for her and they went on meeting as frequently as ever.

In spite of his cynical attitude to the world, Hervey had a certain feeling for the Queen; and when he saw her looking so ill he ventured to remonstrate with her while he asked himself whether he was really concerned for her health or the effect her illness or death might have on his fortunes. His great virtue, he assured himself, was his determination to be frank with himself.

‘These birthday celebrations fatigue you greatly, Madam,’ he told her.

‘They will soon be over.’

‘Should you not explain to His Majesty that you need to rest?’

‘My lord, what are you thinking of? You know His Majesty’s attitude to illness. He hates it, and there are some things which he hates so much that the only way he can tolerate them is by pretending they don’t exist.’

‘That, Madam, is a state of mind which cannot exist permanently.’

‘You love your illnesses, my lord.’

‘I respect them. That is why I am constantly at your side instead of languishing in my bed.’

‘I have been twice blooded recently.’

‘All the more reason why you should rest, Madam.’

‘Pray don’t scold. I have known the King when he has been ill, get up from his bed, dress for a levee, conduct it, and when it is over return to bed, hiding from all but his most intimate servants the fact that he was ill.’

‘It is not Your Majesty’s custom to follow His Majesty’s follies.’

‘Hush, you young idiot.’

‘A most devoted, and at this moment, anxious idiot, Madam.’

‘Oh, come, come. You indulge me! ‘

‘Would I might do that.’

You please me enough with your tongue, my lord.’

Then I will make further use of my privilege and say that no member of your family, Madam, will ever admit to being ill ... nor acknowledge illness in others.’

‘If that is all our subjects will have to complain of us we shall be fortunate.’

‘I complain now, Madam, most bitterly.’

‘But you, my child, love illness, you pamper it, you study it, you revel in it. We merely spurn it and drive it away.’

‘We shall see, Madam, whose method is wiser.’

‘I hope not, my lord. I hope not for a long time.’

Sir Robert Walpole, himself suffering from the flying gout, was loath to attend any of the birthday celebrations; he was longing for the quiet of Norfolk where Maria and their daughter would be with him.

Twice a year he holidayed there and he was beginning to think that those two holidays were the best times of his year. Why did he go on fighting a cruel Opposition, a foolish King, and a Queen whom he respected but of late had seemed to be against him?

He allotted himself twenty days in November—twenty days of peace with Maria in his cherished Houghton among his treasures. All his treasures, he told himself with a rare sentimentality.

He looked back on a hard time. It had been particularly difficult keeping England out of war and the elections had not gone very well for him. He was still in power but with a reduced majority.

He must, he supposed, put in an appearance at the King’s celebrations otherwise there would be complaints against le gros homme. One had to placate the little man all the time.

He dressed with reluctance and presented himself at the Queen’s drawing room.

As he made his way to her side he was shocked by her appearance.

She’s a sick woman, he thought. Why does she not admit it? Doesn’t little George see. Of course not! When did he ever see what he didn’t want to?

‘Madam,’ he said, as he kissed her hand, ‘I have come to pay my respects and to tell you I shall shortly be leaving for Houghton.’

‘My poor Sir Robert, you are in need of a holiday.’ She swayed a little.

‘Madam ... you are not well.’

‘I was blooded twice recently. It takes a little time to recover.’

She is going to faint, he thought.

He caught Lord Hervey’s eye and he knew that Hervey understood. ‘Your Majesty should be resting,’ said Walpole. ‘Perhaps Lord Hervey would ask His Majesty if he would retire so that the Queen can go to her bed and rest a while.’

The Queen was about to protest, but Hervey did not wait. He went to the King and surprisingly George must, too, have been aware of his wife’s wan looks for he made no protests, but for once ignoring sacred time he retired to his apartments, leaving the Queen free to do the same.

In the Queen’s closet, Sir Robert paced up and down, talking gravely.

‘Madam,’ he said, ‘your life is of such consequence to your husband, your children, and to your country that to neglect it is the greatest immorality you can be capable of.’

‘Sir Robert, my dear friend, you flatter me.’

‘It is no flattery, Madam. I would be frank. This country is in your hands. The King’s fondness for you and the regard he has for your judgment are the only reins by which it is possible to restrain the natural violences of his temper or to guide him to where we wish him to go. We know that he does not care for the company of men, but cares greatly for that of women.’

‘You think he may have a mistress who will seek to influence him?’

‘That is possible. She might govern him. But I was thinking that if you do not take care of your health you may not be with us and he might marry again. What then? What if the Prince were inflamed against his father more than he is already? Oh, I see a thousand dangers which would come to this realm if you were not in the position you now hold.’

The Queen smiled sadly. ‘Your partiality to me, Sir Robert, makes you see many more advantages in having me, and apprehend many greater dangers from losing me, than are indeed the effects of the one or would be the consequences of the other.’

‘But you agree there are dangers?’

‘The King would marry again if I died, I am sure. Indeed I have advised him to do so. As for his government, he has such an opinion of your abilities that were I removed everything would go on as it does now. You have saved us from many errors, and this very year have forced us into safety whether we would or no, against our opinion and against our inclination. I own this. The King sees it; and you have gained his favour by your obstinate but wise contradiction, more than any minister could have done by the most servile compliance.’

Sir Robert kissed her hand for he believed it was noble of her to confess her fault; but it was what he would have expected of a woman of her intelligence.

‘I need you, Madam,’ he said. ‘I believe that without your help I should not be able to persuade the King into any measure he did not like. So, therefore, I beg of you take care of your health. I think I will not go to Houghton.’

‘But why not, my dear Sir Robert! You need to guard your health even as I do.’

‘I am so concerned for you.’

‘But this is nonsense. Go you shall. I order you.’

‘Then if you will allow Lord Hervey to send me accounts of your health ...’

‘I shall command him to do so.’

‘In that case, Madam. I take my leave.’

When he had gone, Caroline lay on her bed, and there were tears in her eyes when she reflected on the friendship of her dear gros homme.

When Walpole left the Queen, he went straight to Hervey’s lodgings to tell him of the interview and how he wished him to keep a watch on the Queen’s health.

This Hervey said he would do; and he added his fears to Walpole’s.

Then Walpole as was his custom proceeded to tell Hervey all that had been said.

Hervey suddenly clapped his hand to his mouth and said: ‘A fearful thought has struck me. The King may have heard every word you said! ‘

Walpole grew pale. ‘This will be the end for us both! ‘ he declared.

‘I may be wrong,’ said Hervey. ‘But I must tell you that I went to look for the Princess Caroline shortly after you joined the Queen. You know she always leaves her mother when you arrive to talk of state affairs.’

Walpole nodded.

‘One of her pages told me that she had left her mother when you went in and joined her father who was with the Princesses Amelia, Mary, and Louisa. He went through into the Queen’s bedroom with them; and you know that is the room next to the Queen’s closet in which you were talking to the Queen.’

‘He could have heard every word! ‘

‘If he listened.’

‘Certainly he would listen. I remember once how he deliberately hid himself in a closet and left the door open so that he could hear what passed between myself and the Queen.’

‘Then ...’

‘I can only repeat. This will be the end for us both.’

‘He will have been forced to see himself as you and the Queen see him—not the all-important king from whom all wisdom flows. This is disaster.’

‘You must find out if it is true. Can you?’

‘I am sure I can.’

‘Then for God’s sake do and let me know before I leave for Norfolk. If he has heard what we said then I may as well stay there. As for the Queen ...’

‘Leave it to me. I will discover.’

So a very discomfited Walpole left; and it was not a bad thing, reflected Lord Hervey, for all men to see how easily, when they are at the height of power, they can fall to ruin.

Walpole would be feeling now as he had when he had thought Anne Vane was going to die in his bed.

He was almost certain that the King had not overheard, for he had a shrewd idea where he would have gone after he had a few words with his daughters.

Still it was good to know that the great Walpole regarded him as such an invaluable friend; it was very gratifying to have him waiting eagerly for the note which would reach him early next morning.

He went to the page to whom he had spoken before and asked where the King had gone when the Princess Caroline had joined him and her sisters.

The page smiled.

‘He went to the nurseries, my lord.’

‘I’ll swear he spent a long time discussing his children’s education with Lady Deloraine,’ said Hervey lightly.

At which the page gave a veiled snigger.

Scandal quickly went the rounds, thought Hervey.

He then went direct to Walpole’s house in Chelsea because it was always so much more pleasant to deliver welcome news in person and Walpole would remember how his good friend did not wait until the morning.

He was greeted eagerly.

‘All is well! ‘ cried Hervey. ‘He was not in the Queen’s closet, and instead of hearing your truths he was talking love and devotion with his daughters’ governess.’

They laughed together, like old friends. The bond between them was stronger than ever.

And when Hervey was next with the Queen she spoke to him of her anxieties over Walpole.

‘He seemed to me so anxious. He is worried about his position, I believe. These last elections shook him. I feel that some of the spirit has gone out of him.’

Lord Hervey loved to enlighten people, particularly those in positions of power such as the Queen or Walpole, so he whispered confidentially that Walpole’s troubles were more personal than political.

‘Oh?’ said the Queen. ‘Does this in any way concern that woman he so dotes on?’

‘She is ill, Madam. And could be dangerously so. This is one of the reasons why Sir Robert is so distrait at this time.’

‘Poor Sir Robert! But I am surprised that a man of his talents should feel so deeply towards such a woman.’

‘Your Majesty has heard gossip of this woman?’

‘Well, I heard that he paid so much for her and that she makes demands upon him.’

‘I have heard that he paid £6,000 “entrance money”! ‘

‘You are an enfant terrible, my child.’

‘Would Your Majesty care to terminate this rather shocking conversation?’

‘I have lived too long at Court to be easily shocked by the morals of those about me. Pray go on.’

‘Maria Skerrett lodged with her stepmother next door to Lady Mary Wortley Montague, and that’s how Walpole met her. He was immediately attracted, but then before he met her he was flitting from woman to woman like a gay old ram in a field of sheep.’

The Queen laughed.

‘And, so the story goes, the transaction was made and a year later young Maria was born. Then our minister acquired the Old Richmond Lodge and made a home of it for them all. And every week-end, there he went to enjoy the sweets of domesticity. He was a changed man since he met Maria.’

‘I am glad he has amusement for his leisure hours. She must be very clever to have made him believe she cares for him.’

‘What, Madam, she does.’

What, that man with his gross body, that enormous stomach, and his swollen legs! ‘

Poor Caroline! thought Hervey. She is envious of this devotion between her minister and his mistress. She is beginning to find the strain of placating George unbearable. ‘Well, I hope she is soon better and that care is lifted from his shoulders,’ said Caroline briskly.

They began to talk of other things and he sought to amuse her with some of the verses he had written about the Court personalities.

He was very gratified to be on such terms with the two most important people in the country, to have such a power over both of them.

To work thus in the shadows was a role which became him well.