Indiscretions of the Queen

The Spy at the Villa d’Este

So it was goodbye to England. Caroline’s feelings were mixed. It was sad to leave Charlotte; but she had Willikin to comfort her; and as she drove to Worthing with the boy and her two ladies-in-waiting, Lady Charlotte Lindsay and Lady Elizabeth Forbes, she believed that she had at least some of whom she loved to be her constant companions. Lady Charlotte Campbell had gone to Europe in advance and would join her later; and in her there was another dear friend.

The people had cheered her all along the route. It was as though they did not wish her to go. She had their sympathy. She took Willie’s hand and pressed it; he was excited, excited to be setting out on adventures with his dear Mamma who spoilt him, as everyone said, so atrociously.

Brougham had not wished her to go; in fact he had done his best to dissuade her. She was not entirely sure of him; in fact she was not sure of any politicians and often wondered how politic their partisanship was. Were they for her for the sake of their party— or against her for that reason? She was well aware that numbers of her enemies were such because they wished to please the Prince Regent.

She thought as she had many times of how different her life, would have been if she had been allowed to marry dearest Töbingen. Then she would have had a big family of children— not just one daughter whom she could scarcely call her own because the dear child had never been allowed to be with her, and one son who was not her own, much as she loved him. She had been forced to lavish all that great mother-love on Willikin and sometimes she admitted to herself that he was extremely self-willed and not very intelligent. Not that she did not love him.

She loved all children. But if she could have had that Töbingen brood— Brougham had said to her: ‘Your Highness should never forget that what the Prince Regent desires is to prove you guilty of immorality. He wants a divorce.

You are going to be surrounded by spies.’

That had made her laugh. ‘I will give them something to report to their master.’

‘I beg of Your Highness to take care.’

‘Why, my dear friend,’ she replied, ‘you would deprive me of one of the greatest pleasures in my life which is precisely not taking care.’

Brougham was dismayed. What a wild impulsive woman she was, impossible to direct.

He looked at her severely. ‘Your Highness should know the worse. Do you know what the Duke of Clarence has told the Captain of the ship on which you sail?’

‘Well, I should be surprised if he spoke against me. My brothers-in-law have always been my friends.’

‘He does not think to speak unkindly. Your Highness knows there has been much scandal surrounding you.’

‘Ha. Those Douglases! I’d like to see them in court. And what has Clarence said of me?’

‘He has told the Captain that he should have a love affair with you, that he can be sure he would not be repulsed and the Prince Regent would have no objection.

In fact would be more likely to reward him.’

Caroline burst out laughing. ‘It has come to a pretty pass when Mrs.

Fitzherbert’s husband tries to bribe a noble sea captain to sleep with me!’

Poor Brougham! He had been exasperated with her. And no wonder. After all his defence of her was going to make him famous. And he believed that her mode of life would certainly lead her into trouble sooner or later and this was particularly so since the Prince Regent would do his best to bring her there.

But nothing he could say would deter her. She was going on her travels because life in England was no longer endurable. She was to be known as the Countess of Wolfenbüttel— a thin disguise, for her face and figure had been made well known by the cartoonists, and her heavy pelisse caught together by fasteners of gold, and her hat of mauve and green, on which drooped a large green feather, were characteristic of the Princess of Wales. She had designed a costume for her gentlemen— embroidered black coats lined with scarlet silk, gold embroidered waistcoats and feathered hats.

She was clearly no ordinary traveller.

From the first there was an uneasy atmosphere in the travelling party, every member of which was aware that they might be called upon at some future time to report on the Princess’s actions. Caroline herself seemed to be unaware of this— or perhaps indifferent to it; but there was not one member of her suite who could bear to contemplate giving evidence against the Princess— which would be extremely disloyal, or against the Prince Regent which would be extremely unwise.

There was scarcely one of them who did not wish himself or herself back in England. At the best this was not a pleasure trip; it was banishment, and home began to look very inviting.

Lady Charlotte Lindsay begged leave to go and visit her sister Lady Glenbervie at Spa.

‘You must go and see the dear creature,’ declared Caroline. ‘And rejoin me at Naples.’

By the time she reached Brunswick her chamberlain St. Leger had begged leave to return to England, for his heath could not stand up to the rigours of travel.

Caroline gave the permission and the Hon. Keppel Craven took his place. Sir William Gell who had shared a chamberlain’s duties with St. Leger began, to suffer acutely from the gout but he remained with her, and realizing now that her suite were not anxious to accompany her— and guessing the reason— she shrugged her shoulders, but she did feel very grateful to the few who remained.

It was a strange feeling to be back in Brunswick. It had changed. After all there had been the occupation. Her brother greeted her with affection and she was delighted to see him back in possession of his lands. She walked through the old palace and recalled memories of her childhood; she lingered in the courtyard where she had often talked with Major von Töbingen. And there was her bedroom where she had staged that disastrous scene when she had pretended she was pregnant.

What anxieties she had caused to her dear good father! She was sorry for it now.

But the more they cage me, she thought, the more outrageous I become. It is not that I am wildly eccentric so much as that I wish people to believe I am. They suspect me and I want to make them go on suspecting. What causes it? Who will ever know? Perhaps wise Madame de Hertzfeldt would. No one else. She had no desire to stay longer in Brunswick at this time but told her brother she would come back in the spring. Her intention was to spend the winter in Naples.

Before reaching Naples she decided to stay a while in Milan, and it soon became clear to her that she needed an Italian courier to arrange her travelling and he must necessarily be an Italian to overcome the language difficulties.

When she met General Pino at a banquet given in her honour she consulted him on this matter and he in turn consulted the governor of Milan, General Beliegard, The Governor called at the villa she had taken and told her that he knew of a man whom he could thoroughly recommend. This was a certain Baron Bartolomeo Pergami— a man whose fortunes were in reverse through no fault of his own. The Baron Pergami had distinguished himself in the recent campaigns and was something of a hero, but it was true that he had fallen on hard times and although it might be beneath his dignity to take a post of courier in the ordinary way, as this would be in the service of the Princess of Wales he might consider it.

Caroline’s attention had already been attracted by one of the loveliest children she had ever seen. This was Vittorina Pergami— a sparkling, vivacious, black- eyed little girl with a mass of dark curling hair. Dear Willie, whom she loved devotedly, was scarcely handsome with his pale eyes, sandy hair and rather petulant mouth. Caroline wanted to know more of this enchanting child and as soon as she heard the name Pergami she wondered if there was any connection.

She soon discovered that there was and that the Baron Pergami who was coming to see her was her father.

And as soon as Bartolomeo Pergami stood before her, she was attracted by him. He seemed to her to be the complete adventurer. He looked the part with his fierce moustache and his head of thick curling black hair; his eyes flashed; his bearing was that of a soldier; he looked lithe and strong and was six feet in height.

What a man! thought Caroline. If the Prince Regent could know that he was in my service there would be some fluttering excitement among his spies. For that reason alone she would engage this man. But for purely personal reasons he was such a joy to look at.

He told her of his life, of lost splendours due to the wars, of his own service in the recent fighting. He was gallant and respectful— though not too respectful; he laughed frequently, seeing a joke as readily as she would— her sort of joke— and when he did so he showed beautiful white and even teeth. Caroline was more excited than she had been since she left Worthing.

‘I have fallen in love with your daughter Vittorina,’ she told him. ‘And I wondered how I could keep her with me. Perhaps by detaining her father?’

‘That would be a necessity, Your Highness,’ he told her. Clever man. He knew who she was although she had now dispensed with the title of Duchess of Wolfenbüttel and had become the Countess of Cornwall.

‘While I am in Italy I shall need someone to arrange my travels. It is not a post worthy of you, I know; but if you would consider it for a start.’

‘For a start—’ The bold black eyes were alert with speculation. ‘Madam,’ he said with a bow, ‘it would be a privilege to serve you in any capacity, however humble.’

That settled it. Baron Bartolomeo Pergami was attached to the entourage of the Princess of Wales.

Lady Elizabeth Forbes had left. She had assured Her Highness that she found travelling too taxing and that she had family matters to which to attend in England.

Lady Charlotte Campbell however was returning.

‘They are all seeking a chance to desert me, Willikin,’ she said.

‘Why?’ asked Willikin.

‘Because they don’t love me as you do, my angel.’

Her angel settled closer to her and helped himself to the sweetmeats she always provided for him.

Let them go, she thought. She didn’t want them if they didn’t wish to stay.

Pergami was worth a hundred of any one of them. Very soon he had ceased to be a humble courier and was her chamberlain. He showed exceptional abilities; he was capable of managing the entire household; this brought him into daily contact with the Princess— which was a great pleasure to her. His delightful daughter Vittorina was her constant companion— so it was natural that the dear child’s father should not be far off.

Dear Pergami— so efficient, so sunny tempered, so amusing and so handsome! She looked forward to the times when he came to report to her on her household and she would keep him talking of the past— the glorious past when he had been a great baron and had not been forced into service even of so great a lady.

‘Poor, poor Pergami,’ she would sigh. ‘How I feel for you.’

‘But, Your Highness,’ he told her with an ardent look, ‘to serve you gives me greater happiness than I have ever known before.’

‘These Italians,’ cried the Princess later to Lady Charlotte Lindsay, ‘they certainly know how to treat a woman.’

‘I daresay His Royal Highness the Prince Regent has already heard that the Baron Pergami has joined your household.’

‘I hope he has. I see no reason to make a secret of it.’ Lady Charlotte sighed.

She never saw reasons— or if she did, she did not care.

And after that conversation she was even more friendly to the handsome Baron.

On her journey from Milan to Naples Caroline startled the people as she passed along. She had ordered a carriage in the shape of a shell and in this she lay over-dressed, over-painted, with enormous feathers rising from her hat and falling about her shoulders; her gowns were always low-cut and she liked to sit, most inelegantly, with her short fat legs exposed to the knees. Willikin often sprawled beside her, his eyes round with wonder at the sights he saw; and she had grooms dressed in pink tights decorated with spangles. Everywhere she went she left behind a trail of gossip.

Once, staying at a humble inn, she heard that there was to be a village dance and insisted on going and dancing with the most handsome of the young men. The people laughed and applauded but afterwards they thought this was strange behaviour for a Princess of Wales.

On one occasion the seats of the carriage in which she was travelling were too high to enable her short legs to reach the floor; so she put them on to the lap of a lady-in-waiting who happened to be sitting opposite and rode along thus to the amazement of all who beheld her and the complete embarrassrnent of the lady.

The Princess had always been wild, but since she had left England a madness seemed to have possessed her.

In due course they came to Naples.

The King of Naples gave her an enthusiastic welcome. He received her ceremoniously and told her he hoped she would stay in Naples as long as she cared to. Very soon she had set up house and prepared to enjoy the hospitality which was extended to her on all sides.

It was in Naples that she received the first tangible warning. General Matthews, a member of her suite, when strolling through the streets of Naples in the company of an Italian Count, met an Englishman whom he knew. He naturally wondered what this gentleman was doing in Naples and greeted him.

‘I know you,’ he said. ‘Your name is Quentin, is it not?’

‘That is so.’

‘And you have a brother who is a Colonel in the Hussars and I believe your serve the Prince Regent in some capacity.’

‘I have a post in His Royal Highness’s household.’

‘And are you here on his business in Naples?’

‘Er— yes. I have been sent by His Highness to look at some horses which he proposes buying.’

When they passed on the Count said: ‘I’ll swear he has not come to Naples to look at horses. It’s scarcely the place to do that.’

‘It seems very strange, I admit,’ said the General. ‘But why should he lie?’

‘Because his business is such that he does not wish to speak of it. And it is the affair of your Prince Regent.’

‘H’m,’ said the General. ‘A spy.’

‘You can be sure of that. I will tell you what I will do. I will tell the King what has happened and he will get to the root of the matter. In a few days time he will know whether this Quentin has in fact been looking at horses or not. And if not, I think the Princess of Wales should be warned. Do you not agree?’

The General replied that he agreed wholeheartedly.

A few days later the Count came to see the General.

‘Mr. Quentin has not been looking at horses. In fact what he has been doing is asking a great many questions about the Princess of Wales— and talking to members of her household.’

‘I shall go to Her Highness immediately and report on this.’

‘There is no need. The King has taken a great liking to her. And he is annoyed that the Prince Regent should send spies into Naples without his knowledge. He will deal with this.’

The King kissed Caroline’s hand; she gave him her large warm smile.

He said: ‘My dear lady, I have asked you to come to see me because I have something very serious to tell you. I trust you will forgive what may seem like impertinence on my part but I am concerned for you.’

‘Your dear good Majesty! I shall never forget how much at home you have made me feel in your kingdom.’

But I will not have you persecuted while you are here.’

‘Persecuted! Nothing could be farther from the truth. I have been fêted, honoured—’

‘And spied on, my dear lady. Now this is what I have to tell you. A Mr.

Quentin has been sent here by the Prince Regent to report on your actions. I thought you should be warned.’

‘Ha!’ laughed Caroline. I trust he carries back a good tale.’

‘I shall not allow him to remain if you do not wish him to. He shall be escorted to the frontiers and told not to enter Naples again.’

‘Oh, don’t do that. Poor fellow, he would be so put out and doubtless be in trouble with his master.’

‘My dear Princess, do you realize that this fellow is spying on you, that he will carry reports back to England— very likely false ones of your conduct here?’

‘Oh, let him!’

The King was astonished.

‘I wish you to know that if any spies come here and you want them to be banished, it shall be done.’

‘Let them stay. Let them take back their tales. Your Majesty is good to consider me so. But I shall not worry about these spies. So, dear Majesty, do not concern yourself with them.’

The King lifted his shoulders. It was for her to say, he reminded her.

‘The dear King,’ Caroline told Willikin, ‘he is so concerned for me. What a comfort after the way I have been treated in England. I should like to stay in Naples for the rest of my life!’

‘You’d be too restless, Mamma. You will be off on your travels again soon.’

Caroline laughed. ‘You are right, my dear Willikin.’

It was true that she did not stay much longer in Naples; and the reason was a dramatic one.

Napoleon had escaped from Elba and Caroline deemed it wise to leave without delay and in twenty-four hours was on board the Clorinde sailing for Genoa.

Genoa, into which she had a triumphant entry, all spangles and feathers, was excited to receive her and the people came out into the streets to look at the strange English Princess.

Pergami had arranged everything with his usual efficiency. ‘What should we do without the dear man?’ she demanded of Willikin who agreed with her that Pergami looked after them very well. Caroline was becoming more and more used to familiar with her attractive major-domo and treat such a gentleman, such a treasure, as a servant.

Often he sat down to a meal with her alone. ‘Just the two of us,’ she would say. And this delighted her, because he was so amusing and, as she confided to her servants, she enjoyed a tête-à-tête meal with Peragami more than a State banquet where there was too much noise and chatter and people had to shout until they wert hoarse to make themselves heard.

Lady Charlotte Campbell arrived in Genoa with six of her children, which was a great delight.

How were the little darlings? And how did they like travelling? And were they pleased to see the Princess again?

They were and so was their mother though a little shocked at the Princess’s manners which had grown even more free and easy since she left England.

And who, Lady Charlotte asked some of the members of the staff, was this man Bergami or Pergami whatever he called himself?

There was a little giggling and little shrugging of shoulders.

‘A great favourite with the Princess, Lady Charlotte. He is in constant attention. He’s the chamberlain but he’s more like her faithful companion.’

Lady Charlotte groaned. What indiscretions! There was talk of her eldest daughter’s having a post in the Princess’s household. Lady Charlotte was not sure that she wished for this.

Caroline, however, was unaware of the gossip. She was delighted to have Lady Charlotte with her and she would arrange for a house in the town for the children and their governess. As for Lady Charlotte, she would take up her old duties.

Then came sad news. At the battle of Quatre Bras‚ Caroline’s brother, the young Duke of Brunswick, had been killed.

Caroline shut herself up in her apartments and wept for her brother.

But very soon there was shouting in the streets and everyone was rejoicing.

Wellington and Blucher had met Napoleon at Waterloo and annihilated the French Army.

Peace at last— and this time a lasting peace because Napoleon could never rise again.

‘Now,’ said Caroline, ‘I can continue my journeyings in peace.’

There was startling news however from England. Samuel Whitbread who had been her fervent supporter had died by his own hand.

Caroline could not believe this to be true. He had always been such a vital man, a firm upholder of righteous causes. He had believed, it was said, that his public career was at an end, and this had depressed him. It seemed so pointless; he was rich, having retained a big share in the brewery; he was not old, being in the neighbourhood of fifty, and yet he had shut himself into his bedroom in his town house at thirty-five Dover Street and cut his throat.

Remembering the violent death of Spencer Perceval, Caroline said: ‘I seem to bring had luck to those who help me.’

Why was it that people did not wish to stay with her? Captain Hesse, her equerry, who was said to be the illegitimate son of the Duke of York, had come to her when the news of Napoleon’s escape was known and told her that he must rejoin his regiment. She fancied this was a good excuse. Gell and Craven had come to her as she was about to embark at Naples and told her that they must leave her unless she returned to England.

She had told them that she had no intention of doing that and laughed at them because they believed that rather than lose them she would do so.

But when she was alone she was depressed. Was no one faithful? Few, it seemed; but one who was, was her dear Bartolomeo Pergami. What would she have done without him?

The travels continued to Mantua and Ferraar, Bologna, Venice and Rome.

At each of the places Caroline passed through she behaved with a growing abandon. She dressed extravagantly and was heavily rouged and daubed with white lead; she rode through the streets in her fantastic feathered hats, the abundant curls of her many wigs flowing freely, she was a startling figure. But her conduct was more strange than her appearance. She was over-familiar; she walked the streets ostensibly incognito— picked up children, squatted on the pavements beside them, embraced them and gave them money; she cooked a meal now and then which she sat down and enjoyed with Pergami; she allowed him to come in and out of her bedroom at will, received him when she was in her bath, and took a great pleasure in shocking those about her in every way she could conceive.

Stories of her incredible behaviour were carried to England and the Prince Regent listened to them avidly.

If only it were possible to rid himself of this woman how happy he would be!

Every tale he heard of her was a humiliation.

That most glorious of victories, Waterloo, was being celebrated. They realized at home what this meant. The name of Waterloo would resound through the world for centuries to come; and it was his great general who had achieved it. It was Wellington’s victory. The church bells rang out; the guns boomed forth. It was a victory to set beside Trafalgar and Agincourt.

It was a glorious time; and yet he, the Regent, was pestered by his family.

There was intransigent Charlotte who caused him much anxiety by her refusal to obey him; but he could manage Charlotte; and at least she was pleasant to look at.

But Caroline! That loathsome creature to whom they had married him. The First Gentleman of Europe, the most elegant and fastidious of gentlemen to be married to that vulgar creature!

But for her, he could marry again and get a son. Ha, that would put Charlotte’s nose out of joint. The arrogant young woman never forgot that Crown she saw in her future. She was already seeing herself mounting the throne, which was unfeeling of her, for how could she until he was dead?

If he could rid himself of Caroline— Good God, should it be so difficult? The Delicate Investigation had been a near thing. He might have managed it then. But now she was roaming about the Continent, causing scandal wherever she went.

There was fresh news brought to him by his spies. One of the members of her suite had left her because Caroline was planning a trip to the East and this young man, William Burrell, who was a son of Lord Gwydir, had arrived at Brussels.

There he met the Duke of Cumberland; but the important factor was that Burrell’s servants had chattered to those of the Duke who had reported to their master.

Cumberland had lost no time when he returned in telling the Prince Regent that he wanted to know.

Something must be done. The manner in which Caroline was behaving with this Italian chamberlain of hers and the way she conducted herself generally must surely supply the evidence he needed. His spies were not working hard enough.

There was Quentin, for instance, who had allowed himself to be discovered and this incident had naturally warned the guilty ones. Many people had left her suite; men like Hesse, Gell and Craven. Why? Were they afraid of being implicated?

The Prince sent for Lord Castlereagh and told him that he expected action.

‘What do you propose?’ he demanded. ‘These people who are supposed to be working for us give us nothing but gossip. I want proof.’

‘I think, sir,’ said Castlereagh, ‘that we should appoint a man of some standing to work for us. What we need is absolute proof and someone who actually witnesses misconduct. For that we will need someone who is skilled and able to win the Princess’s confidence. I suggest that I get in touch secretly with our ambassador in Vienna. If Your Highness will give me leave to write to him— strictly confidentially, I think he will know the man whom we should appoint to act as our agent.’

‘Let it be done with all speed,’ said the Prince Regent.

Lord Castlereagh wrote to Lord Stewart and headed his letter Most private and secret. He must appoint a man whom he thought fit to do this service and this agent must be able to give eye-witness proof. English witnesses would be preferred but it would be better not to involve anyone in the Regent’s service. The aim was to enable the Prince Regent to be free of a woman who had no decency and was quite unworthy to be his wife. It would be understood that as the object of the evidence would be to justify a divorce, the proofs must be direct and unequivocal.

When Lord Stewart received this communication he studied it very carefully and cast about in his mind for the person who would be able to perform this very delicate duty.

At last he decided on the Baron Frederick d’Ompteda, the Hanoverian envoy to the Pontifical Court.

He wrote to him commanding his presence immediately and when the Baron arrived, acquainted him with what was expected of him.

‘You understand,’ said Lord Stewart. ‘We must have evidence and witnesses of the misconduct of the Princess of Wales. It should not be difficult to obtain in view of the reports we are receiving.’

The Baron replied that he would do his best.

‘It is what the Prince Regent expects,’ replied Lord Stewart.

The Baron took his leave and set out for Rome.

Caroline had arrived at Como where she decided to settle for, a short time while she and Pergami put their heads together, as she said, and planned a tour of the East.

An Italian countess had a charming house to sell on the lake and when Caroline saw it she decided to buy it and make alterations so that it would be a mansion worthy of a princess. Together she and Pergami planned the alterations; and in a short time it had been greatly enlarged, avenues had been planted and as Caroline said, it was indeed her. house. She named it the Villa d’Este.

‘For,’ she explained to Pergami, ‘I am descended from that noble family.’

While she was in Rome waiting for the Villa d’Este to be made ready for her occupation, she received a letter from the Hanoverian minister, Count von Münster.

‘He is the son of my old governess,’ she told the maids who were attending to her as she read the letter. One of these was Annette, a rather flighty girl who spent a great time flirting with the male members of the household, and the other was Louise Demont who was of a more serious turn of mind. ‘Ah, what a life I used to lead the old lady! I’m afraid I was a very naughty girl. The tricks I got up to!

They would surprise you if I were to tell you.’

Louise said demurely that nothing Her Highness told them would surprise them, which amused the Princess.

‘You don’t know, you cannot imagine,’ she declared. ‘Ah, poor Countess von Münster! And this is her son writing to me. He’s a very important person now in Hanover and he is telling me that Baron Frederick d’Ompteda will be calling on me and he hopes I will receive him. The Baron is the Hanoverian envoy to the Pontifical Court. Well, we must make him welcome, mustn’t we? You have been to tell the Baron Pergami that I wish to see him?’

‘Madam, shall we wait until you are dressed?’

‘No, no, no! Send him now. He can assist at the dressing, it will not be the first time.’

When the Baron Pergami arrived, the two girls left him alone with the Princess.

‘What a strange way to behave,’ said Louise primly. ‘I am not surprised that there are all these rumours.’

‘Are there rumours?’ asked Annette.

‘Have you not heard of them?’

Annette shook her head. She had little time to listen to rumours; her great concern was with a young German who had recently joined the household.

Maurice Credé was very attractive and she was sure he had noticed her.

‘My dear Baron,’ cried the Princess, ‘how good of you to call! My good friend the Count von Münster told me that you would be coming. I trust that you will be frequently with us. We are delighted to have you.’

The Baron bowed and told her she was very gracious and she would find that he would take advantage of her goodness.

‘Anyone recommended by the Count von Münster will be well received here.

Pray sit down and tell me about yourself. I doubt there is any need for me to tell you about myself. You will have heard stories about me and my goings on.’

She broke into loud laughter.

It shouldn’t be difficult, thought d’Ompteda. One only had to look at her and one could well believe all the stories one heard of her. The loose revealing gowns, the painted face, the over-heavy wig, her very manner of sitting so slovenly, somehow suggested immorality. It would be an easy case to prove, this one.

He talked of Hanover and his work in Rome and while he talked, Pergami came in.

‘This is Baron d’Ompteda, my dear,’ said Caroline. ‘Dear Baron you must meet Baron Bartolomeo Pergami, who is my guide, comforter and very good friend. ‘Tis so, is it not, my dear? He looks after my affairs so beautifully. Come sit down and talk with us. Baron d’Ompteda has had such an interesting life!’

The greatest success, thought the Baron. Why she makes no secret of the relationship. She even asks him to sit down. She must be besotted— or crazy. And Pergami? Yes, he behaved with a proprietorial air. There was no doubt about it. He was her lover. It was going to be easiest possible case to prove.

She sent for refreshment.

Good God, thought d’Ompteda, is he going to be allowed to drink with us? ‘Theodore, bring us wine,’ she commanded.

The man bowed.

‘A very good servant,’ she said before he was out of earshot. ‘Theodore Majocchi. Such a nice fellow! So willing and so grateful to be taken into my household. Many of my English servants have left me, Baron, but I have been well served by Italians and I have found the country so hospitable. Though I intend to leave it for a while. My dear Baron Pergami is working a detailed plan for us to travel in the East.’

‘And Baron Pergami will accompany you, Madam?’

She laughed at Pergami who returned her smile. ‘Now he is not suggesting that I should go without you, my dear!’

‘It would be impossible,’ said Pergami.

Why, thought d’Ompteda, they are admitting it! My task will be done in a week. But he was mistaken. His orders had been: Optical Evidence. This meant that he must see the Princess and Pergami in bed together, or at least some reliable person must.

Two or three weeks passed and still he had not found what he must have. He had artfully questioned the servants and although they were ready to admit that the Princess’s conduct was very strange, no one could actually say that he or she had tangible evidence of misconduct.

Caroline left with her household for the Villa d’Este and d’Ompteda followed them there. After all his present business lay with Caroline. It was ridiculous. It seemed to him so obvious but where could he find the tangible evidence he sought?

She was free and easy in her manners. She had been to a ball, during her journey through Italy, dressed as Venus— naked from the waist. This had shocked many but she had danced merrily with numerous men in her semi-nude condition. She was immensely proud of her bosom and saw no reason why she should hide her greatest beauty. There was a great deal of gossip about that costume; there was talk about the manner in which she rode about the town, how she would now and then cook a meal and sup alone with Pergami; how he was allowed to talk to her when she was in the bath; how when he was ill she had made him a posset and sat on his bed talking to him, that she had been alone in the bedroom for some time and was still sitting on the bed when servants entered the room.

All this— but it was not optical evidence. And that was what he must find.

Quite clearly he must enlist the help of her household and he looked round for suitable people.

First there was the manservant, Theodore Majocchi. He had discovered that before he came to serve the Princess he had worked for Count Pino and had been dismissed from his household for stealing. Perhaps a bribe would tempt him.

Maurice Credé was perhaps a better subject because he was in a higher position and would be easier to talk to. He had seen that Credé was an ambitious man; he was rather fond of the woman, it was true, and was actually conducting a liaison with one of the women. That might be useful. The woman might have easy access to the Princess’s sleeping apartments.

He would keep his eyes on the woman named Annette and there was another who seemed more intelligent, Louise Dermont.

He had selected his tools; now he would get to work. The Princess was leaving for the East in a week or so. He must get evidence before she left because, through Lord Stewart, he was being made aware of the Regent’s impatience.

He encountered Maurice Credé in the grounds of the Villa d’Este and told him that he wished to speak to him secretly. Credé looked surprised that such an important person as the Baron should wish for his company, but as he was ambitious and always looking for advancement he was flattered.

‘If you would come to my room, my lord Baron, we could talk there in comfort.’

Shortly afterwards the Baron went to Credé’s room where he found the young man waiting.

‘You must have a great deal of information as to how life goes on in the Villa,’ began the Baron with a faint leer.

‘My lord?’

‘The Princess is rather free in her manners, is she not? I mean there must be few secrets which are known to the members of her household.’

‘The Princess is a very friendly lady. She is kind and generous to us all.’

‘I don’t doubt that she pays you well to keep her secrets.’

‘I do not understand.’

The Baron laughed.

‘Well scarcely secrets. Who does not know that Pergami is her lover?’

Credé looked startled. ‘I cannot say—’

‘Can you not? Is it not obvious. Is he not in and out of her bedroom and she in and out of his? Is he not present when she takes a bath— even alone with her? Oh come, my friend, you are not so innocent as to suppose there is nothing in their relationship but that between a princess and her chamberlain.’

‘I do not understand what you want of me.’

‘Then I will tell you. I want evidence of the Princess’s misconduct with Pergami.’

‘From me, my—’

‘I mean to get it with your help.’

‘But how—’

‘There are keys to the Princess’s apartments. I want these keys. I want to have a witness in her bedroom who can testify to her misconduct.’

‘Who are you?’

‘That is no concern of yours. You will get those keys for me, and be paid well for your work. Not only will you be paid but the work you do for me can bring you recognition in high places.’

‘I— I cannot do this,’ stammered Credé.

‘You are a fool. Why not?’

‘The Princess has been a good mistress to me.’

‘You will find even better masters.’

‘I am sorry. You must look elsewhere for your— accomplices.’

‘And you— like the good faithful servant you are, will consider it your duty to report this conversation to your mistress ?’

‘I— I—’

‘Ah, you hesitate! You show wisdom at last. I have been discovering certain details about you, my dear Credé. There have been little adventures with one of the women here. Little Annette is charming, charming— I agree with you. And there have been too many kisses in dark corners, too much scurrying along corridors in the dead of night. You see, your honour extends only in certain directions. I should see you not want to have to disillusion those who have a high opinion of you but—’

‘You mean you will betray me if I do not work with you, if I do not get those keys?’

D’Ompteda nodded slowly.

‘You have the keys?’ asked d’Ompteda.

‘Not yet,’ replied Credé. ‘I must await my opportunity.’

‘You fool. She sails in two days’ time.’

‘That is what makes it so difficult. In any case, Pergami is scarcely ever in her apartments. He is so busy arranging for the departure of the Leviathan.’

Frustration! groaned d’Ompteda. Angry reprimands from London, through Hanover. With all this gossip why was it so difficult to provide what was wanted?

It should be simple.

There was talk of nothing in the Villa other than of the Princess’s imminent departure.

We shall have to wait now for her return, thought d’Ompteda.

Caroline was excited. Nothing was so entrancing as the prospect of seeing new lands.

‘If I cannot have children. I will have travel,’ she announced. She was sorry that so many of her English suite had not wished to accompany her. It was not that they were afraid of dangers from pirates and bandits— and this was by, no means an uncertainty— but they were afraid of being called upon by the Prince Regent to give evidence against her. The fact made her laugh and determine to give them as much cause for suspicion as possible Pergami was faithful. Dear, dear man! she thought. He was one whom she could trust; and she had engaged his sister, who called herself Countess Oldi, as one of her ladies-in-waiting. She was already fond of the Countess who however was very respectable and inclined to exclaim in surprise at the Princess’s antics.

But she was Pergami’s sister and that was recommendation enough for her. Little Vittorina was to come, dear child; and she and Willikin would be as her own two children. Dr. Holland, her English doctor had left and in his place she had engaged Dr. Mochetti, a most charming Italian There was one Englishman who had joined her suite. He was Captain Robert Hownam and she had engaged him as her private secretary.

Well, it was a happy little company and what did she care if there were few English among them. The Italians were charming and her friends.

She took an affectionate farewell of Baron d’Ompteda and told him that she hoped he would not stop visiting the Villa d’Este during her absence. She was leaving some servants behind and they would care for him.

He accepted the offer with gratitude, he would certainly take advantage of it!

During the time she was away he would have to make a plan so that as soon as she returned he could put it into action And so Caroline sailed away on the Levzathan to Sicily first and there was a short stay in Messma And after that they would sail to Tunis, Malta and Athens.

Louise Demont, whom she had brought with her, told her she was writing an account of the journey for she believed few princesses would have made it before.

‘How terrified I am, Your. Highness, that we shall be set upon by bandits in some of these strange places. And what if pirates boarded us!’

The Princess laughed. ‘I doubt not that I should be able to persuade them not to harm us.’

‘Your Highness can be most persuasive.’

‘You must let me read your account of the journey.’

‘If Your Highness would so honour me—’

Caroline read, the accounts which Louise wrote every day and found them interesting. She walked the decks with Pergami and chatted freely with the sailors. She ordered Pergami to arrange for balls on board which he did and she danced with all the men in turn.

There never was such a princess, was the comment.

And many of them believed the stories they had heard of her.

There were occasions when her suite was in fear of their lives; she was the only one who seemed unafraid. She thrived on adventure.

When she reached Tunis, she was welcomed by the Bey and settled down to enjoy a pleasant stay there. For, she commented to Countess Oldi, ‘I find these barbarians less barbarous than some Christians I have known.’

The Bey sent her the finest Arab horses and she made up her mind that she would stay for some time in his pleasant land.

But this happy sojourn was interrupted by the arrival of the Dutch and English fleets. The pirates whose head quarters were in Tunis had been intercepting too many Dutch and British ships and the fleets of these countries had come to demand a settlement.

In the pleasant villa which had been at her disposal Caroline received a visit from Admiral Lord Exmouth who explained the situation to her.

‘I’m not afraid of a little conflict,’ Caroline told him.

‘But, Your Highness,’ the Admiral replied, ‘it would not be possible for you to remain here while these er— negotiations are going on.’

‘Why not?’

‘There could be trouble.’

‘The Bey is my good friend.’

‘Today, Madam, but perhaps not tomorrow. I have orders to ensure your departure.’

She argued but it was no use. Her suite were decidedly nervous and for their sake she gave in. Pergami persuaded her to do so.

‘It is wisest, Your Highness,’ he said ‘I always do as you say, my dear,’ she answered.

So from Tunis to Athens and on to Turkey and Constantinople. The stay there was brief owing to an outbreak of plague, and her entourage was by this time longing for the return to Como; and when she went to the Pyramids and had to take with her two hundred soldiers to guard the party as it crossed the desert, even Pergami tried to persuade her end the tour.

But she laughed at them all. Her eyes flashed with excitement. It was long since she had been so pleased with life.

‘At last,’ she cried, ‘I am doing what I want.’

Poor Willikin was beside her in all her travels. He was too young to realize the dangers through which they passed and seemed to have a blind faith in her.

She was the Princess whom nothing could harm and as long as he was close to her, he was safe.

And after Cairo, Nazareth where she decided to found an Order of Knighthood. She called this The Order of St. Catherine of Jerusalem; it was to recompense those who had been with her on her pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

Pergami received the Order, so did Willikin and so did her secretary Hownam.

She must of course visit Jericho and after that started on the return journey., By the end of October 1816, she was back in the Villa d’Este.

It was good to be back in the Villa. She called Maurice Credé to her and asked if all had been well during her absence.

‘Very well, Your Highness,’ he told her.

‘You look a little sombre,’ she told him. ‘Is everything going well with you?’

‘Very well, Your Highness.’

‘Well, I trust you are pleased to see me back.’

Credé bowed. It was her way of talking. And how foolish it was and how it gave her enemies the chance to do what had been bribed to do.

Pergami went about the house to assure himself that everything was in order, and in Credé’s apartments he was surprised to find an extra set of keys.

He examined them closely and ascertained that they were a copy of the keys to the Villa. Now for what purpose should Credé provide himself with an extra set of keys? He could ask Credé. But if he did, that would put him on his guard. No, he would do no such thing. Instead he would watch Credé.

Pergami had long been aware that the Princess was under observation. He was her chamberlain and it was his duty to protect her. He was going to find out what Credé was doing with that set of keys.

He did not at this stage mention the affair to Caroline. She was so indiscreet and he imagined what her reaction would be. She would declare that Credé was a very good servant and she refused to harbour any suspicions towards him. He, Pergami, would watch Credé.

He soon discovered that he was leaving his room at night and prowling about the villa. But this was in search of Annette.

An idea struck Pergami. He would dismiss Credé for seducing one of the maids. It was an adequate reason; and then he would confiscate the keys and would have no more need to alarm himself about them.

He summoned Credé.

‘I no longer have need of your services,’ he told him. ‘You are dismissed.’

‘But— why— what have I done?’

‘You are behaving in an improper manner with one of the maids. I cannot accept such behaviour in this household.’

Credé was dumbfounded but Pergami went on, ‘I will take all your sets of keys. I know that you have two.’

Alarmed, realizing that his affair with Annette might not be the true reason for his dismissal, Credé handed them over meekly and Pergami was about to ask why he had had the second set made, but he refrained from doing so. He would not in any case believe Credé’s explanation.

Credé stammered: ‘Is this not rather harsh to dismiss me because—’

‘Because of immorality?’ Pergami raised his eyebrows and looked Credé full in the face. ‘I do not think so. There is enough gossip about the Villa— all false tales. We have therefore to be particularly careful. I have no wish to discuss this matter further. You will leave immediately.’

With that he turned and left the bewildered Credé.

Dismissed from the Princess’s service, where could he find such opportunities again? Credé turned over the matter in his mind and decided that it was certainly not merely because of Annette that he had been turned out. There was another reason.

Could it be known that he had been working for d’Ompteda? If he made a confession of this, if he explained everything to the Princess, if he told her that he wished to be faithful to her and it was for this reason that he was confessing to her, he might be taken back.

The most important thing in the world was for him to be taken back.

He had the answer. It was confession.

He would not tell Pergami because he had a notion that Pergami would not listen so he wrote to the Chevalier Tomassia, one of the Princess’s equerries.

He was dismissed, he wrote, because of an intrigue with one of the Princess’s waiting women and he was full of remorse and hoped that the Chevalier would prevail upon the Princess to reinstate him. He deserved what had happened to him because he had been seduced from his duties by Baron d’Ompteda who was attempting to betray her. Baron d’Ompteda had asked him to procure keys which would enable a spy to be secreted in the Princess’s bedroom. He had been threatened by the Baron that if he did not obey he would be ruined and when the Baron had offered him money for his services he had given way. He knew that he had been wicked and he trusted that the chevalier would have pity on him and give him a chance to show his true repentance in his service to the Princess.

When Tomassio received this letter he took it immediately to Pergami.

So this was the answer, thought Pergami. How right he had been to dismiss the man!

Pergami went at once to Caroline and showed her Credé’s letter.

‘So Your Highness now has clear proof that we are being spied on,’ said Pergami.

‘d‘Ompteda!’ cried the Princess. ‘I should not have believed it of him. So Mrs. Fitzherbert’s husband has appointed him spy-in-chief. This makes me laugh.’

‘Perhaps Your Highness’s laughter should be tempered with caution.’

‘Dear, dear Bartolomeo, you are right as usual.’

The Baron d’Ompteda was asking for an audience with the Princess.

‘Tell the Baron,’ said Caroline to Pergami, ‘that I am having a reception to celebrate my homecoming. I shall expect him to be my guest.’

Pergami looked unhappy.

‘My dear good friend, leave this to me,’ she soothed him. ‘You know how outrageously I can behave when the need arises.’

So she had not learned the lesson, thought Pergami. She was going to receive d’Ompteda. She was going to snap her fingers at all the intrigues. ‘Where will this lead us?’ he asked his sister, Countess Oldi.

‘She is too warm-hearted, too forgiving,’ sighed the Countess.

But Caroline was on this occasion determined on revenge.

When d’Ompteda arrived at the reception, she called for Pergami to bring her a huge cardboard key and this she presented to him.

He looked bewildered. ‘My dear Baron,’ said Caroline, ‘knowing your love of keys I give you this one. I hope it will satisfy you.’

Caroline turned to Pergami who was standing by.

‘Please give the Baron one cup of coffee, and tell him that he may leave and that I do not wish to see him again.’

Publicly dismissed! Before all these people he was given the great key and a cup of coffee. What humiliation! He understood that someone had betrayed him and immediately thought of Credé. This was disaster, for he had failed in his mission. What hope had he now of secreting himself in the Princess’s bedchamber!

Captain Hownam sent a challenge to d’Ompteda. In view of certain facts which had come to light concerning his behaviour, he challenged him to a duel.

D’Ompteda was to name the place and he would inform his seconds without delay.

The wretched d’Ompteda did not reply; he had reported to Hanover and was awaiting instructions. If ever a spy had made a hash of a mission he was that spy.

Caroline meanwhile had heard about the challenge. She did not wish dear Captain Hownam to risk his life for that worthless creature, she declared, so she wrote to the governor of Naples telling him how her privacy had been invaded while she was in Italy and begged him to intervene on her behalf.

D’Ompteda was ordered to leave the country; and this he did almost gratefully and with the utmost speed.