Indiscretions of the Queen

Departure for England

JAMES HARRIS, first Earl of Malmesbury, had come as speedily from Hanover to the Court of Brunswick as the frosty roads would allow.

He was a man of much experience for he had been the King’s ambassador in foreign courts for many years; now close on fifty he was still handsome, somewhat debonair and extremely astute.

He had come to make an offer for the hand of the Princess Caroline; a delicate task, he considered this, for if the Princess should not please the Prince of Wales on her arrival in England he would doubtless be made to feel the Prince’s displeasure; and if he discovered the young lady to be not all that he would expect the Prince to admire, what could he do? The precise instructions from His Majesty King George III were not to comment on the lady’s charms, nor to give anyone any advice on the matter. His duty was solely to make an offer for the lady’s hand and to see that thereafter the arrangements concerning the betrothal were carried out in a correct manner.

Poor Princess, thought Malmesbury. She had not much chance of keeping His Highness’s affections if she should ever gain them. He remembered how the Prince had come to him at the time when he was courting Maria Fitzherbert and had wanted to resign his hopes of the Crown and follow the lady to Europe.

He had then advised a caution which His Highness had seen fit to adopt but by his tact and dignity had contrived to retain the Prince’s respect and friendship.

He was in ct, like many people, fond of the Prince; but that did not prevent his being aware of the weaknesses of His Royal Highness and he could feel only pity for the young woman who was destined to marry him.

Malmesbury was a diplomat by nature. He was a Whig in politics but at the same time a friend and confidant of the King’s; and while he served the King and attempted to bring lout an easier relationship between him and the Prince he remained the Prince’s friend— which was no small achievement.

When he arrived in Brunswick he was welcomed warmly by the Duke and a palace of the late Duke Frederick was put his disposal. He was adequately supplied with servants which included three footmen, a valet, a concierge and two menials to guard the palace night and day. A carriage and horses were also put at his disposal; and everything was done to make him comfortable.

A sign, he told himself, that my mission will be a success. He was at once invited to the Ducal Palace where he was presented to the Duchess and her daughter; and an audience with the Duke was arranged for a few days ahead when he could present to him his master’s proposals.

The Duchess was a talkative woman and no stranger to him, for he had known her in England— and known her for being a meddler in affairs, a gossip and in many ways a foolish woman. According to his first observations she had not changed for the better. But he was not concerned with the mother nearly so much as with the daughter.

Caroline. The future Princess of Wales and Queen of England! He saw a girl — no longer young— but pretty— though not softly so; her figure was not good; her legs were short though her bust was full and well-shaped; her eyes were pleasant; her hair fair, abundant and her best feature; her eyebrows were too light however and her teeth, though good, were already decaying. If she had been a little taller— if her teeth had been good— But this was how she was and he did not think the Prince, such a connoisseur of beautiful women, would be pleased with her. Malmesbury thought of the dazzling beauty of Perdita Robinson— one of the loveliest creatures to tread the stage. Maria Fitzherbert— perhaps less beautiful than Perdita, but with what dignity and of course great charm; and, Lady Jersey was another beauty, though much older than the Princess Caroline but everyone knew the Prince preferred grandmothers to virgins.

An absurd jingle that he had heard somewhere came into his mind.

I’ve kissed and I’ve prattled with fifty Grand DamesAnd changed them as oft, do you see. But of all the Grand Mammies that dance on the SteineThe widow of Jersey give me. Yes, he was well known for his love of experienced women older than himself. So what was he going to think of this gauche creature whose background had been the somewhat backward Court of Brunswick? Malmesbury tried to picture Caroline at Carlton House or Marine Pavilion.

The result was an immense pity for her. The Prince would find plenty to console him for disappointments.

At the Duchess’s dinner he sat on her right hand.

‘Such a pleasure,’ she sighed, ‘to see someone from England.’

He had not, he reminded her, come straight from England. He had been in Berlin and Hanover.

‘But you are English and so am I, my lord. And never shall I forget it. My dear brother! I often think of him. And his terrible— terrible illness. So sad. But there is the dear Prince— my handsome nephew. I hear such reports of him.’

Malmesbury looked disturbed, visualizing what that could mean.

But she hurried on, ‘He is so fascinating, I hear. He leads the fashion. And Carlton House is a positive mine of treasure. They say he has the most excellent taste and is extremely clever.’

It was not the moment of course to refer to the proposed match since he had not yet made the formal announcement to the Duke, but the Duchess managed to talk all round the subject and she made it quite clear that she was delighted.

At the ball which followed he danced with the Princess. Close proximity brought a rather alarming discovery. She was clearly not meticulous regarding her personal cleanliness. A dreadful discovery. He thought of the Prince, with his scented linen, his frequent baths, and general fastidiousness. This could be a major calamity; and one which an ambassador such as himself could scarcely deal with, particularly when he had had the King’s instructions to offer no advice, but merely to set the negotiations in progress.

Poor girl! he thought. And she is so clearly excited by the Prospect before her. In due course he was able to present the proposal to the Duke who received it with the utmost pleasure; and now there was no reason why the matter should not be discussed openly.

There was an air of intense excitement throughout the Court of Brunswick. As the days passed Malmesbury became more and more sorry for the Princess. When he had first met her he had believed that the Prince would turn from her in disgust and as the girl was obviously beginning to have romantic dreams about what awaited her in England. H e wanted to disillusion her without hurting her. Oddly enough he was growing fond of her. There was about her a naturalness that appealed to him. She had little restraint, he could see that; and she had a great deal to learn; but she was Intelligent and he believed would be able to grasp the position if it were presented to her. And who could present it to her? Who but Malmesbury.

No, no. It was outside his duty as ambassador. But it was just possible that a little guidance might save her much unhappiness.

He much deplored the influence of her mother who was flow beside herself with excitement. Her daughter the future Queen of England. It was one of the greatest positions any princess could aspire to, and to think that her Caroline after iii these years of waiting should have secured the prize.

She prattled on to Malmesbury. ‘That it should be Caroline. But then why not? The King is my brother. So why should it not be Caroline? My brother was very fond of me before my marriage. Dear George! He was a very good man— kind hearted but not very wise. Alas! But he was always devoted to the family and particularly to his sisters. But of course that’s years ago and he married that woman. I never liked her. I am really afraid of how she will behave towards Caroline.’

Malmesbury assured the Duchess that the Queen would behave toward her daughter as a mother.

‘Ah, my lord,’ cried the Duchess, ‘you forget I know that I know that woman.

I was at Court when they were married. I disliked her on sight and she hated me.

My dearest mother, the Dowager Princess of Wales, shared my opinion of her. Do you know when she arrived she would have liked to lead George. My mother soon put a stop to that. Charlotte was immediately put in her place.’

Malmesbury raised his eyebrows which were as far as he could go in expressing disapproval, while he wondered what effect such a mother must have had on her daughter.

He tried to divert the conversation from Queen Charlotte but the Duchess was obsessed by her and insisted on continuing. All Malmesbury could do was reiterate: ‘I am sure Her Majesty will do what she considers her duty towards her daughter-in-law.’

Conversations with the Duke were more helpful.

‘I am a little anxious about my daughter’s future,’ said the Duke. I have tried to impress upon her the importance of the position which will be hers. I have tried to make her aware of her responsibilities.’

‘The Princess will realize this when she arrives in England,’ replied Malmesbury.

‘I have talked a great deal to my daughter, constantly impressing on her that she is not going to England merely to dance at banquets and enjoy life. She will have great responsibilities. Perhaps Your Excellency could make her acquainted with what she should expect at the Court of England. I am sure that you can do so better than anyone.’

Malmesbury bowed and said he would do everything in his power.

He found conversations with Madame de Hertzfeldt the most illuminating.

Here was a sensible woman who understood Caroline; and he had quickly realized that the Princess had more respect for this woman than for her own mother, although she was made uneasy by the ménage à trois. If Madame de Hertzfeldt had been the Princess’s mother, reasoned Malmesbury, his task might have been easier and the Princess might have been more ready to become Princess of Wales than she was now.

‘She is by no means unintelligent,’ Madame de Hertzfeldt told him, ‘though not exactly clever. She is good-hearted— very good hearted; but she has a quick temper and is completely without tact.’

Malmesbury looked grim and the lady, hurried on: ‘But she would respond to kindness. She wants affection— she needs it. She is very fond of children. In fact her love of them mounts to a passion. I believe that if she can have children, she will be happy and the union will be a success.’

‘Madame,’ replied Malmesbury, ‘I can speak frankly to you. What I fear is the first impression. You have heard rumours of our Prince and your knowledge of the world will have given you some indication of what sort of man he is. He is a leader of fashion. He has been called the First Gentleman of Europe. I can say to you that I fear he may find the Princess somewhat lacking in that— er— charm— and shall I say mystery— which he expects in a woman.’

‘I understand perfectly Your Excellency’s meaning and I fear with you. I am fond of Caroline. But the situation here—’ She spread her hands and Malmesbury nodded sympathetically. ‘We have tried to do what we thought best for her— the three of us. But in the circumstances it has not been easy. The children of the marriage are all— unusual.’

Malmesbury nodded sympathetically.

‘I think one would have to be a little strict with Caroline. She has been allowed a great deal of freedom, perhaps too much. And she is of course no longer a young girl So that it is difficult to impose it now. I think she needs a great deal of advice and it will have to be given frankly.’

‘You, Madame?’

She shook her head. ‘No. It is not easy— in my position.’

‘Her father perhaps?’

‘She is very fond of him, admires him greatly but she is afraid of him. She hides this but it is there. She feels he is a little severe. It is because he has tried to impose some discipline which has been lacking in other directions.’

‘Not her mother!’ cried Malmesbury in alarm, visualizing the blundering effects that lady’s garrulous advice might have.

Madame de Hertzfeldt smiled reassuringly.

‘No, most certainly not the Duchess. I speak with complete frankness. Your Excellency understands because I consider this matter of vital importance. The Princess has no respect whatsoever for her mother. In fact I have seen a faraway look come into her eyes when her mother speaks to her and I know she does not listen to half that is said. There is only one person at this Court who can help the Princess. And that is you, Your Excellency.’

Malmesbury was taken aback. ‘Madame, I have had instructions from my royal master that my sole duty is to make these arrangements.’

She nodded rather sadly. ‘Your duty to your King, Excellency. But what of your duty to this poor blundering girl? You see her as she is. You know the man who will be her husband. Will you not put out a restraining hand to stop her plunging headlong to disaster?’

‘Madame, you put the case very strongly.’

‘Am I wrong then, Excellency? You know the Prince of Wales. I can only judge by hearsay.’

He was silent for a few moments; then he said: ‘It would exceed the duties laid down to me by my King but—’

Her face was illuminated by a smile and he thought: She is a beautiful woman. And a wise one. What a sad fate for our poor Princess that this woman was not her mother. ‘I will do what I can,’ he said, ‘to prepare the Princess for what she will find at the English Court.’

In her apartments Caroline was talking to Mademoiselle Rosenzweig who listened attentively. She was a clever woman who spoke English fluently and it was for this reason that the Duke had selected her to serve the Princess in the role of secretary and that it had been planned that she should accompany Caroline to England.

‘He is such a charming man,’ Caroline told her secretary. ‘If he were just a little younger, I could almost wish he were the Prince of Wales. He is so kind.

And do you ‘know I think he- likes me quite a lot. Sometimes he looks at me almost sadly. Why do you think that is? Is it because he is wishing he were the Prince of Wales? Wouldn’t that be odd? Suppose the ambassador were to fall in love with me.’

Caroline seated herself on her bed and rocked herself to and fro in her merriment.

Mademoiselle Rosenzweig remembered the instructions she had received from Madame de Hertzfeldt to curb as much as possible the Princess’s frivolity, and said: ‘Scarcely odd, Your Highness, but a little inconvenient to the gentleman perhaps. I am sure your father would not think, it seemly to speak of such a supposition, even if it were true.’

‘Dear prim Rosenzweig! But you are right to be prim.’ She laughed aloud.

Then she was sober. ‘I shall try to be more serious, dear Madam Secretary. I really shall. And if I am a good wife I shall be rewarded by— children. I want lots of them. Ten would be a pleasant number, do you not think so? Wicked old Queen Charlotte had fifteen I discovered the other day. Two of them died. But thirteen, that is quite a quiverful, is it not?’

‘Perhaps it is also unseemly to discuss this matter,’ suggested Mademoiselle Rosenzweig.

‘How fortunate that you are here to remind me, my dear. But I must not call you my dear. It is too familiar. I have to remember all the time that I am to be the Princess of. Wales. I shall start practising now. So don’t expect any more familiarity. Oh, I am so glad you are coming with me. It won’t be quite so strange, if I have some of my own people around me. And dear Lord Malmesbury will be there. Do you know, my dear— I must not, must I? But you are my dear you know— so I shall say it when we are alone— I am looking forward in a way to leaving Brunswick.’

‘It is time you married.’

‘Time indeed. I am no longer a child, am I? I have had mach charming letters from the Prince of Wales. He writes— beautifully— in German and in French and I expect in English— if I could understand it. Such rounded phrases. I am filled with admiration. I am marrying a very clever man, dear Rosenzweig.’

‘The Prince of Wales is noted for his erudition.’

‘It is a pity I have not more.’

‘Your Highness will acquire it.’

‘You are beginning to talk like my dearest Malmesbury. I hear my uncle the King is a good kind man. I love him already. Yet— I am afraid Rosenzweig— very much afraid.’

The gay mood had passed and Caroline’s expression reflected her melancholy. ‘I esteem and respect the Prince of Wales, but I cannot love him with ardour yet, can I?’

‘You will not be expected to. That will grow.’

‘Dear, dear Malmesbury, for you sound just like him!’

She stood up and drawing herself to her full height clasped her hands together and tried to draw her features into an expression resembling Lord Malmesbury’s.

She said in a voice which was a fair imitation of his: Your Highness cannot be expected to feel passion as yet, but that will come. That will come. And you will in due course— but in due course, Your Highness, have your ten children. ‘Ah, but I should not poke fun at his dear lordship, should I, for I love that man. I do really. Ah, if he were but my Prince of Wales— But he is a little old, and perhaps he would not be able to give me those children— not all ten of them.’

‘Your Highness!’

‘Yes, yes. I will try. You see, Rosenzweig, while I am not averse to my marriage, I think I am indifferent to it. I shall try to be happy, but my joy will not be enthusiastic. I once loved a man. Did you ever hear of Major von Töbingen?

But they took him away from me. How happy we might have been! But they sent him away. He was there— and then he was gone. He was not good enough, they said. He was only a Major, and I am a princess. Princesses must marry princes— more’s the pity. Oh God help me, Rosenzweig, it is my Major whom I want.’

Mademoiselle Rosenzweig was alarmed; she feared the Princess was going to have one of those hysterical fits of which she had heard.

‘Your Highness, I beg of you, do not say such things. If it were to come to the ears of my Lord Malmesbury he might feel it his duty to report it to the King of England.’

‘Let him. Let them bring back Major von Töbingen. Let them give him to me — and I will gladly hand them back their Prince of Wales.’

‘Your Highness, Madam, you are not thinking what you are saying.’

Caroline was silent for a few moments; then she said sadly, ‘No. I am not, am I; and I must. All the time I have to think. I have to remember what I have been told. I must not do this. I must do that. Oh, you, my dearest secretary, will be kind to me, won’t you? You will listen to my ravings, Won’t you? You will let me talk to you sometimes of my darling Major if I feel that if I do not I shall go mad— mad— mad—’

‘Hush, Your Highness! Hush!’

Caroline threw herself against her secretary and dung to her. Mademoiselle Rosenzweig soothed her. ‘It will be all right. I shall be there with you. You can tell me whenever you wish and whatever you wish. It shall be our secret. No one else shall know that we talk of these things.’

‘I will tell you how I loved him. How we planned to marry. I gave him an amethyst pin and he wore it always. He said that when he died it should be buried with him. He loved me— oh, he loved me.’

They were silent for a while and then Caroline said: ‘But I must do my duty must I not? Dearest Lord Malmesbury would tell me so. He is anxious that everything should go without a hitch and I must please him, must I not? So, dear Rosenzweig, I shall endeavour to study the English language and I shall in time speak it fluently. I shall do all. I can to make my husband happy.’

‘That is wisely spoken, Princess.’

‘I shall try to please him. I shall try to interest him in my favour, for the Fates have decided, have they not, that I am to be Princess of Wales.’

A few days later Major Hislop arrived at the Court of Brunswick.

He brought letters from the Prince which expressed His Highness’s urgent desire to see his prospective bride in England. For Caroline there was a portrait of the Prince.

She ran with it to her bedroom and summoned Mademoiselle Rosenzweig.

‘Look,’ she cried. ‘He must be the most handsome man on Barth. Tell me, my dear, did you ever see one more handsome?’

‘I never did.’ declared the secretary.

‘Look at that beautiful hair. Look at his blue eyes. And the star on his coat.

Do you think that is velvet or very fine cloth? And what a beautiful shade of blue.

My bridegroom is a very exquisite gentleman, is he not?’

Mademoiselle Rosenzweig said that she had always heard that the Prince was very handsome.

‘He is the Prince of princes,’ said Caroline.

She kept the picture by her bed so that ‘the first thing I see upon opening my eyes is my Prince beside me’. Then she laughed for she saw that Mademoiselle Rosenzweig thought that a rather improper remark for a woman to make before her wedding.

But she was often discovered examining the picture; and after receiving it she seemed to grow more and more reconciled to the marriage.

A few days later the proxy marriage took place. A royal carriage drove Malmesbury from his palace to that of the Duke and the ceremony began. The Duchess was weeping throughout; the Duke looked stern but anxious; but Caroline, though pale, gave her responses in a firm voice.

In half an hour it was over and Caroline was declared Princess of Wales. The party drove to the palace of the Duke’s mother, the Dowager Duchess, where a banquet was waiting for them.

Malmesbury was relieved. His duty towards his royal masters was accomplished. But he could not rid himself of the feeling that he had a duty towards the new Princess of Wales. He saw her as a forlorn creature doomed to tragedy and partly because he believed her to be the most unsuitable wife that could have been chosen for the Prince of Wales he felt an irresistible urge to help her.

The following day the marriage treaty was drawn up in French and Latin and the signatures of all concerned added to it.

Now, thought Malmesbury, the time has come for us to leave for England. The Duchess took the first opportunity of speaking to him.

‘I hope,’ she said, ‘that the journey will not be long delayed. I shall not be happy until I know that my daughter has taken her marriage vows with the Prince beside her’

‘The weather is somewhat inclement for sea travel,’ Malmesbury pointed out.

At the back of his mind was a thought that if they waited until January and February were over Caroline would have time to improve her English and her manners.

‘December is not so bad,’ declared the Duchess. ‘It is January, February— and the March winds which are intolerable. I think that you should start out now.’

‘I cannot make those arrangements until I receive the instructions to do so from my king,’ Malmesbury pointed out.

The Duke had a different attitude.

‘I do not wish my daughter to embark on the seas until I hear that an English fleet has arrived to conduct her to England,’ he said.

‘There is nothing to be done until I have those instructions, sir,’ replied Malmesbury. I expect them at any time now.’

‘We will await them.’ said the Duke; ‘and in the meantime such a marriage should be celebrated with rejoicing.’

So there were the banquets and balls and visits to the Opera— which occasions gave Malmesbury many opportunities of conversation not only with the Duke, the Duchess and Madame de Hertzfeldt, but with Caroline herself.

He took one of those opportunities at a masquerade which was being held at the Opera House.

He had been turning over in his mind how he could warn her of what was in store for her without betraying his acute anxieties and make his meaning plain to her without stepping too far outside the language of diplomacy. For instance, how could he possibly advise her to pay more attention to her personal toilette?

Sitting in the balcony at the Opera House Caroline turned to him and said: ‘I wish to learn all about my future husband. People talk so much of him. They talk of him all the time— and yet when I come to picture him I do not see him very clearly. He is handsome, I know.’

‘He is considered good looking.’

Caroline clasped her hands together. ‘So many princesses ire forced to accept the ugliest bridegrooms. Mind you, there are disadvantages with handsome men. I hear that the Prince is very fond of the ladies.’

‘He is an extremely gallant gentleman.’

Caroline tittered. ‘Well, when I arrive I must, put a stop to that, must I not?’

Malmesbury gave an embarrassed cough. ‘I think Your Highness would best please the Prince by being very tactful. He is a man who admires— finesse— in conversation and behaviour’

‘Finesse I have always believed it to be a virtue to be open and honest I see I shall have to change things at Carlton House if they go in for finesse there.’ She laughed shrilly. ‘And I see too that I have pained you, my lord, and that is the last thing I wish to do. I want to please you for you have been kind and I took a fancy to you the moment I saw you.’

She touched him playfully with her fan.

My God, thought Malmesbury, what would the Prince think of such behaviour! ‘I have heard talk of Lady Jersey,’ went on Caroline.

Malmesbury groaned inwardly, but she continued artlessly, ‘I believe she is a very scheming woman of the court who meddles and intrigues though she is quite old and a grandmother. One would think she had better things to do. I hear she has had two sons and seven daughters. Would you not think. they would be enough to occupy her?’

‘I think you should be particularly careful in your behaviour towards ladies such as Lady Jersey.’

‘Why?’

‘Because they are much older than you and have had more experience of— er — the Court. Lady Jersey— and ladies like her— will frame their conduct towards Your Highness according to yours towards them.’

‘But should not the Princess of Wales Set the pace?’

‘I think the Princess of Wales should act very cautiously for at least six months after her arrival that she may see what is expected of her.’

Caroline regarded him solemnly. ‘Lord Malmesbury, I believe you are a very wise man.’

‘I am honoured by Your Highness’s high opinion.’

‘And you know now that when I say something I mean it. I lack that— finesse.’ Her laughter rang out.

Far too loud and quite unmusical, thought Malmesbury; but there was at least honesty behind it.

She went on: ‘Lord Malmesbury, I am very ignorant, am I not? Perhaps you could help me to be less so.’

‘If Your Highness feels I can be of the slightest use to you, I am always at your service.’

‘I don’t speak English very well,’ she said, ‘do I?’

‘You have a strong German accent.’

‘Which you don’t find very attractive.’

‘Your English will improve with practice.’

‘And there are so many English words which I do not know. How strange, my lord, many German princesses were taught to speak English fluently in the hope that they might marry the Prince of Wales. I was the one who was not. Is that not odd?’

‘And unfortunate,’ agreed Malmesbury. ‘But do not fret too much about the language. The present Queen of England arrived in England from Mecklenburg- Strelitz with a very poor knowledge of the language; now she speaks very well indeed.’

‘Ah, there is another matter which troubles me. The Queen of England. She is bound to hate me. My mother says so.’

‘With all respect to the Duchess, I say that is nonsense.’

‘You see, she and Mamma were enemies and she doesn’t want me there.

There is a Princess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz who is her niece. She would have preferred her naturally.’

‘Her Majesty will welcome the bride her son has chosen,’ said Malmesbury glibly.

She looked at him trustingly and he thought: I fear I cannot be as honest as you, my poor Princess, and remain a diplomat. ‘Pray give me the benefit of your advice. What must I remember when I arrive at the English Court?’

‘I think you should not be as familiar with your attendants as you are here. Be affable but never forget that you are Princess of Wales.’

‘I am to smile and be friendly and yet not friendly—’ she grimaced. ‘Go on, my lord.’

‘If any of them attempt to gossip, do not allow yourself to listen; and don’t allow them to influence your opinion.’

‘I want them to like me,’ she said wistfully.

‘Popularity was never gained through familiarity.’

‘I am really afraid of the Queen. She sounds such a grim old lady and I have a feeling that she will hate me.’

‘All the more reason why you should be on your guard and make sure that your behaviour is always correct.’

‘But how should I know whether I am correct or not? I have often been very correct here in Brunswick.’

‘That is because you have been thoughtless. In England you will be constantly on your guard.’

‘I have heard that the Prince is— how do you say léger? It is as well to know it. I shall never show him that am jealous— even if I am.’

‘I trust that you will never have cause; and I am aware that Your Highness knows that should there be a— slackening of the Prince’s affection it is more likely to be rekindled by affection and tact than by reproaches.’

‘Tell me, when do the King and Queen hold their drawing rooms?’

‘On Thursdays and on Sunday, after church.’

‘Does the Prince go to church?’

‘He will doubtless go with you.’

‘But if he does not care to?’

‘Then Your Highness must go without him and tactfully let him realize that you would prefer him to accompany you.’

‘What a solemn conversation,’ she cried. ‘This is masquerade, my lord.’

‘It is a pleasant subject for what could be more agreeable than Your Highnesses going to church together.’

Caroline leaned forward to watch the dancers.

She looked, Malmesbury noticed, more at ease as a result of their conversation.

The Duke sent for his daughter.

‘Caroline,’ he said, I have today received dispatches from England. It is not the wish of the Prince of Wales that Mademoiselle Rosenzweig should accompany you to England.’

‘Not accompany me! But she must. She is my secretary. How am I going to understand the English without her? Who is going to write my letters? How can I manage without her?’

‘Caroline, pray do not become so excited. You must remember that the Prince of Wales is your husband now and you must obey his wishes.’

‘But he does not know Mademoiselle Rosenzweig. Why should he object to her? I shall take her— no matter what he says.’

‘Caroline, pray be reasonable.’

‘I— be reasonable! What of the Prince, my gallant husband!’

‘You are going to the English Court. You must remember that ours is small compared with it. There may well be rules you do not understand. You should remember always to obey your husband.’

‘But it seems so senseless. He has never met Mademoiselle Rosenzweig. Why should he object to someone he has never seen— unless it is to spite me?’

‘You are talking nonsense.’

‘He is talking nonsense. He is being unreasonable. I will not part with Rosenzweig. I will take her with me.’

‘Caroline, control yourself.’

‘You yourself said that my English was so bad that I needed a secretary.’

‘I know. I know. Perhaps I might put this case to His Highness. Perhaps I could explain to him. He may not realize that you write English even worse than you speak it.’

‘So you will tell him that I insist on bringing her?’

‘I will put the case to him and ask him to allow you to bring her.’

Caroline laughed suddenly. ‘It is the same thing,’ she said.

Her father looked at her anxiously; and thought of her sister Charlotte who had mysteriously, disappeared in Russia. How had she behaved to attract such a fate?

What was wrong with the children he had had by the Duchess— born of dislike and indifference. Oh, God, he thought, we royal people are to be pitied because we are forced into marriages which are repugnant to us; and not only do we suffer, but our children also. And what would happen to Caroline? Looking at her now, seeing the stubbornness in her face, hearing that wild laughter, he wondered.

But he would at least endeavour to explain to the Prince of Wales that his daughter needed the help of a secretary.

The Duchess sent for her daughter. When Caroline arrived her mother was lying back in a chair in a most dramatic attitude, a letter held in her hand.

‘Caroline! My daughter!’ she cried. ‘Shut the door. Make sure no one is listening.’

Caroline regarded her mother with distrust, but there was no doubt that the Duchess was genuinely agitated.

‘I have a letter here from— I know not whom— but it is most distressing. I don’t know what to make of it. But if it is true it— it horrifies me.’

‘What is it?’ asked Caroline, seating herself inelegantly on her mother’s bed.

‘It is unsigned. It tells me that Lady Jersey is the mistress of the Prince of Wales, that she is treated as the Princess of Wales and that he will continued to treat her as such after your arrival.’

‘What?’ cried Caroline and snatched the letter from her mother’s hand.

‘Oh dear, your manners! What will they think at the English Court— and if this is true— and I really believe―’

But Caroline was not listening to her mother; she was reading the letter.

The Prince of Wales doted on Lady Jersey; he spent most of his time with her; she was received at all the greatest houses as though she were Princess of Wales.

The letter purported to be a warning to the Princess against Lady Jersey who, it was said, would do all in her power to undermine Caroline’s position in England.

She would almost certainly attempt to find a lover for the Princess and aid her to continue the intrigue.

‘What will become of you,’ moaned the Duchess, taking the letter from her daughter and starting to read it again.

‘No one is going to lead me into a love affair if I don’t want to go,’ declared Caroline.

‘You don’t understand how clever these people can be. Even if you were not tempted—’ The Duchess looked knowingly at her daughter as though she were sure she would be— ‘that woman would make out a case against you. Oh, I am terrified— truly terrified.’

‘Nobody is going to make out cases against me,’ declared Caroline.

‘I fear, my child, that you are going among wolves.’

‘You forget that I have the Brunswick lion in my heart.’

That might be, thought the Duchess, but it was a somewhat wild animal.

‘I will speak to dear Lord Malmesbury about the letter,’ said Caroline. ‘Pray give it to me, Mamma.’

‘I am not sure.’

‘I am,’ said Caroline, and snatched the letter.

‘I think you should be very careful, Caroline. Lord Malmesbury is, you must remember, working for the King.’

‘No,’ said Caroline almost gently, ‘he is working for me.’ Her mother looked after her helplessly as she went out.

‘Pray, my Lord Malmesbury, tell me all you know about Lady Jersey.’ He was taken aback, she saw. So there was something in it. ‘Is she the Prince’s mistress? Come, be frank.’

‘The Prince has many friends and in a cultivated society friendship between members of opposite sexes does not necessarily indicate a love affair. Why does Your Highness ask?’

Caroline brought out the letter. He read it and could not hide his dismay.

Then he said: ‘An anonymous letter! One should never take such letters seriously. It may well be some milliner who is disappointed not to have obtained a post in the household that is being made ready for you. Some maidservant—’

“Do you think such people would have intimate knowledge of my husband’s affairs?’

‘I see that there is much you have to learn of the English scene. There is constant gossip in the chocolate and coffee houses concerning people in high places. Royalty does not escape. Rather is royalty, treated more scurrilously than most. That is why it is always so important to live exemplarily. The writer of this letter has clearly been listening to gossip. She— or he— shows a complete ignorance of affairs. This letter should be immediately destroyed and forgotten.’

‘So you mean I should not be on my guard against Lady Jersey?’

‘Your Highness should be on guard against everyone.’

‘But not specially Lady Jersey?’

‘Especially against those members of the Court with whom Your Highness will be in close contact.’

‘But it says she will attempt to lead me into an affair of gallantry.’

‘Complete nonsense. She could do no such thing.’

‘And why not, pray?’

‘Because, Your Highness, no man would dare make advances to the Princess of Wales.’

It was then that Malmesbury felt more than a twinge of uneasiness, for the Princess actually looked disappointed. ‘Why not?’ she demanded shrilly.

‘Because, Your Highness, anyone who presumed to love you would be guilty of high treason, which as Your Highness will know is punishable by death.’

‘By death!’

‘But certainly. It is a universal law. The King’s own sister, Caroline Matilda, who was Queen of Denmark, took a lover. He was executed; and she would have been also but for the intervention of His Majesty. She was imprisoned and died in prison when she was about Your Highness’s own age.’

The Princess Caroline had turned pale, and Malmesbury pressed home his advantage.

‘So you see, this is the letter of a person who is unfamiliar with the ways of the Court. It should be destroyed. I am surprised—’ He stopped himself in time.

He had been about to say that he was surprised that the Duchess should show it to her daughter. His friendship with Caroline was making him forget his diplomatic manners.

‘It is addressed to my mother,’ she said. ‘I will take it back to her and tell her to destroy it.’

‘Destroy and forget it,’ admonished Lord Malmesbury.

She almost flounced out.

What lack of grace! he thought. What will the Prince think of her? Lady Jersey’s task will not be difficult, I fear, and of course she will call attention to these gaucheries. Poor Caroline! What can I do to save her from unhappiness? In the Duchess’s apartments Caroline was saying: ‘So you see, Mamma, this is merely the spiteful letter of a disappointed servant. Lord Malmesbury says that no man would I dare attempt to be my lover, for if he did he would be punished by death.’

Caroline’s eyes gleamed. How exciting— to face death for a lover. If Lady Jersey were in truth the mistress of the Prince of Wales and she wanted a lover she would most certainly not hesitate. Why should she? If he could be unfaithful, so could she. She would have faced death for dearest Töbingen. Could there be another like him?

The Duchess was thinking: Death to love the Princess of Wales? Could that really be the law? It certainly had been flouted in the case of her own mother. She remembered the Dowager Princess of Wales who had been so enamoured of Lord Bute that she had been unable to keep her devotion secret. She had never heard any suggestion that they should be sentenced to death— although everyone knew of the connection. He used to visit her openly; he behaved like a father to young George— and it was a very cosy comfortable arrangement. The people had not liked it, of course. But that was because they had not liked Lord Bute— it was not due to the fact that he was the Princess’s lover but that he was a Scotsman who had wanted to rule England.

Oh, yes, the people had murmured against the lovers. The Duchess remembered the shouts of ‘Jackboot’— a play on Bute’s name— and ‘Petticoat’

which used to be shouted in the streets. But they were amused by them, and there were cartoons and caricatures. No one had suggested treason. She knew that the English were the most tolerant people in the world. They liked their Royalty to amuse them and a little scandal was very palatable.

In her frivolous way she was about to tell Caroline this; but even she realized the effect it might have on her daughter.

So she said nothing; and held the offending letter in the flame of a candle.

As soon as Christmas was over, preparations to leave went on at great speed, and when a message came from the Prince of Wales to say that in spite of the Duke’s intercession on her behalf he forbade Mademoiselle Rosenzweig to accompany her mistress, Caroline was thrown into a fury of rage. ‘Why, Why, why?’ she demanded. Lord Malmesbury with his customary tact managed to calm her.

There was doubtless a reason, he told her, but he could not tell her because he did not know it. He begged her to be patient. He would be her friend and counsellor in all things; and he believed she would find him as useful as a secretary.

‘The dear man,’ cried Caroline afterwards when taking, farewell of Mademoiselle Rosenzweig, I could have flung my arms about his neck when he said that. And he does, my dear Rosenzweig, comfort me a great deal for my loss of you.’

There was no time for grieving; the journey was about to begin and it was by no means the best time of the year for travelling; the roads would be icy; and it might even be dangerous. Caroline was not put out at the thought. At least it would be exciting.

On December 29th 1794, at two o’clock in the afternoon, they left Brunswick.

The Duke said his goodbyes to his daughter very tenderly; and she wept a little.

Dear Papa, she thought, he really was very good to me; and I suppose next to Major von Töbingen, I love him best in the world. He had been stern often and she was a little afraid of him but he had always been concerned for her, though never so much as now.

‘Goodbye, dearest Papa,’ she said.

‘Caroline, my dear child, try to be happy.’

‘It shall be my purpose in life, Papa.’

‘And please listen to the advice of older and wiser people.’

She promised she would. She got into the carriage where her mother was already seated, for the Duchess was accompanying her to Hanover.

Then the Duke took his leave of Lord Malmesbury and begged him to be a second father to his daughter until that time when she should be under her husband’s care, which Lord Malmesbury promised he would do and in a manner so fervent that the Duke’s fears were considerably appeased.

The cannons on the ramparts of the palace were fired; and the carriages began their journey. Through Brunswick the people came out to see it pass and to cheer their dear Princess who had always been good to them and their children.

Long life to her, they shouted. She, Princess of Wales— their own Caroline, who would one day be Queen of England, When the cavalcade reached Osnabrück there was grave news waiting for them. Malmesbury had planned to travel through Holland, but according to the dispatch, the enemy of England, the French, had marched into Holland and that country was in danger. It was impossible therefore to contemplate taking the Princess of Wales by that route and the squadron of ships under Commodore Payne which was to be meant to convey the Princess to England had, in view of the situation, returned to England. There was nothing to do but call a halt at Osnabrück and consider the next move.

This was irksome, for without the influence of the Duke and Madame de Hertzfeldt, both mother and daughter became very unstable. The Princess openly flouted her mother; the Duchess gossiped incessantly; and the improvement which Lord Malmesbury believed he had begun with the Princess seemed to have evaporated. Caroline was a little truculent. She did not take his veiled criticisms so readily as she had at Brunswick. She was far too familiar with her attendants and called them her dears, her little ones, her darlings; and when Lord Malmesbury reminded her of the need to combine affability with dignity, she was a little haughty with him as though reminding him that he was merely the King’s ambassador while she was the wife of the Prince of Wales.

There is going to be trouble, thought Malmesbury.

The Duchess having heard that the French were not far off was thrown into a panic.

Caroline found her preparing to depart and reported this to Malmesbury at which the Earl went at once to the Duchess and remonstrated with her.

‘Madam,’ he said, ‘you cannot surely wish to leave your daughter unchaperoned.’

‘Nonsense!’ said the Duchess. ‘She is surrounded by women and she has you here to look after her. If the French were to come here, I don’t see why I should be here to be captured. They’ve always hated the English and they’d remember I am one.’

‘Madam, I crave your pardon, but I am in charge of the Princess and I cannot allow you to leave Her Highness until her ladies arrive from England.’

‘And when will this be?’ demanded the Duchess.

‘That, Madam, I cannot say, since our plans have been frustrated by the advancing French armies.’

The Duchess could do nothing but obey for it was true that the Earl of Malmesbury was in charge; and it was in any case her duty to stay with her daughter.

Caroline cried: ‘If you wish to go, go― I do not want you to stay with me if you prefer not to.’

They wrangled together, and Lord Malmesbury was more concerned with their behaviour than with the advancing French.

What will become of her in England? he asked himself. He made up his mind that it would be better to retreat to Hanover and stay there until he could be sure of conveying the Princess safely to England. From there he sent dispatches to the King and the Prince and settled down to wait for action.

Perhaps, he thought, this enforced stay at Hanover was not such a calamity.

The Princess was most certainly not ready to be presented to her husband. He had a few weeks respite and because he was fond of her, he was very anxious to helps.

her all he could.

He had been shocked— but at the same time touched when as they prepared to leave Osnabrück she had suggested he ride in the carriage with her.

‘To tell you the truth, my lord,’ she said in her most confidential and somewhat coquettish manner, I am heartily, sick of my mother’s company and feel sure I should not only enjoy yours more, but profit from it.’

‘Quite impossible,’ he had retorted coldly. ‘It would be most improper.’

This had sent her into peals of that uncontrolled laughter: which he always found so alarming.

‘Your Highness,’ he had told her, ‘must really take greater care in your behaviour towards your servants.’

‘But I do not regard a noble lord like you as my servant,’ she had cried mischievously.

It seemed to him that she had learned nothing. Oh, yes, they needed this stay in Hanover.

All through February they remained there, the Princess being lodged in the Bishop’s Palace. Malmesbury suggested that she read English for several hours each day and that he and she should converse in that language, which was an excellent idea because she improved considerably. She even tried to curb those gushing displays of affection towards her attendants of which the Earl had warned her; and he grew pleased with her once more. But there was one matter which continued to worry him. This concerned personal cleanliness.

What, he asked himself in exasperation, could a man do in such circumstances? It was too embarrassing to be spoken of— but warned she must be, for no sooner was she taken into His Highness’s presence than he would be aware of her lack of cleanliness.

He could no longer delay and however delicate the matter must find some way of making the Princess aware of what offence she would cause.

The opportunity came when he was talking to her after dinner.

‘The Prince is a most fastidious gentleman,’ he explained, ‘and pays great attention to his toilette.’

‘So I have heard. Diamond buckles on his shoes! He invented a buckle of his own, I was told, and when he first took his seat in the House of Lords he wore satin and spangles. What a sight he must have been!’ The Princess giggled, half with admiration, half derision.

‘I was thinking rather of personal cleanliness,’ said the Earl hastily.

‘Oh?’ Caroline was surprised. What did that mean? she wondered.

‘The English nobility pay attention to bathing; in fact the toilette is a ritual— not to be hurried over.’

Caroline laughed. ‘Oh, I never waste much time on washing. Madame Busche says she has never known anyone get through that performance as speedily as I.’

.‘That,’ replied the Earl sharply, ‘is nothing of which to be proud.’

Caroline looked startled and the Earl plunged in.

‘Your Highness must forgive me. I speak for your own good. It is obvious to me— and it would be to His Highness in particular— that you do not spend enough time at your toilette.’

‘My lord, what do you mean? Why should I waste my time going through a ceremonial dressing?’

‘I did not mean the ceremony, Your Highness. I meant the actual performance. It is necessary to wash the body all over and with care.’ This was most embarrassing and he admitted with any other member of a royal family but Caroline it would have been impossible. But that very familiar quality which he so deplored did at least have the effect of allowing him to speak freely. ‘And,’ he added‚ ‘to change one’s linen frequently.’

Caroline burst out laughing. ‘Oh, you mean I’m dirty!’

Malmesbury remained outwardly unperturbed.

‘It may be,’ he said, ‘that I exceed my duty, but Your Highness knows that more than duty prompts me. In England we pay more attention to matters of personal freshness than is the custom in Brunswick. The Prince is a gentlemen of high fashion His linen is kept in scented presses; he bathes each day and would expect Your Highness to do the same. He would, I fear, be aware immediately if you failed to do so.’

Caroline was astonished. ‘Bathe!’ she cried ‘What an odd idea. Is it not a little eccentric? Even in France they do not bathe. I was told that there is only one bathtub in Versailles and that they grow flowers in it.’

‘I am sure you have not heard the truth. But I must explain to you that in England bathing is considered of great importance.’

‘What a strange people I am going among.’

‘And a gentleman such as the Prince is of course greatly addicted to the habit.’

Caroline looked at him mischievously, sensing the embarrassment which was lurking behind his dignified manner.

So I am not clean, she thought, and he has been wondering for a long time how he can tell me so. He really does care about me or why should he bother If I did not love my dearest Major von Töbingen, if I were not going to be the wife of the Prince of Wales, I could love this man. ‘I will take advice from you, my lord,’ she said, ‘though I do not like it from others.’

His words had some effect, though not enough. Caroline was not fond of washing and she thought her dear Earl was being over anxious.

He was relieved that he had been able to talk to her on such a subject without mortally offending her; but he could see that the matter had not ended with that conversation.

Perhaps he should approach one of her women. It would certainly be easier to explain to her. He sought out Madame Busche, one of her very personal maids who seemed to be a sensible woman.

‘Madame Busche,’ he said, ‘I know I can speak to you frankly. And this is a matter of some delicacy so that I must know also that I can trust to your discretion.’

‘You may rely on me, my lord.’

‘It concerns the Princess’s toilette. Frankly she does not pay enough attention to it and this is noticeable. The Prince would immediately be aware of it and as I know him well, I know that he would find it repugnant— more so than most of us, because he is a very fastidious gentleman. I fear that if the Princess were presented to him as she is today, he would be— quite frankly little disgusted.’

Madame Busche was indeed a sensible woman. ‘I am aware of this, my lord.

We find it very difficult to get the Princess to bathe or to change her linen. She says it is all a waste of time. In fact she prides herself on the small amount of time she spends at her toilette‘

‘This must be rectified before she meets the Prince.’

Madame Busche sighed. ‘I will do my best, my lord You will understand—’

‘I have already spoken to the Princess and I think it has had some small effect, but there must be more of a change before we reach England. What kind of linen does she wear?

‘Coarse petticoats and shirts, my lord, and thread stockings. I put fresh ones out for her but often she does not change them.’

‘Madame Busche, we must do our best to make her realize the importance of cleanliness.’

Madame Busche promised that she would do her utmost.

But the fact was, Malmesbury reminded himself, that the German idea of personal hygiene was not the same as that of the English, and English nostrils therefore would be far more sensitive to unpleasant odours.

Soon Mrs. Harcourt would be coming out from England to take up her part as Lady of the Bedchamber to the Princess of Wales. He would be able to speak to her and perhaps something effective would be done then.

He might have spoken to the Duchess. Perhaps she was the obvious person to whom he should have spoken. But she was a foolish woman— and he was surprised that with her English upbringing she had not noticed this failing in her daughter. But while she followed the habits she had been taught in England she had made no effort to instil them in Caroline.

It was not until March that news came from England that the fleet which was to escort Caroline to England had arrived.

The waiting was over. Malmesbury was relieved yet apprehensive. It was perhaps foolish of him to feel the latter, because no one could find fault with the manner in which he had so far carried out his commission. But it was impossible to have come to know Caroline so well and not to feel affection for her— and the apprehension was for what would happen to her. He could not imagine how the Prince of Wales could possibly be attracted by her.

The arrival of Mrs. Harcourt was a comfort. She was, he believed, a sensible woman; she was English; she would understand the need for an improvement in the Princess’s toilette and Lord Malmesbury could talk to her frankly.

Caroline was at first suspicious of her and resentful that her ladies-in-waiting should be chosen for her when she was not allowed to take her secretary Mademoiselle Rosenzweig with her. So she received Mrs. Harcourt as though she disliked her, for there was no finesse about Caroline.

Mrs. Harcourt— a friend of Lady Jersey who had planned with that lady that the Prince should marry not the fascinating Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, niece of the Queen) but the less attractive Caroline of Brunswick— was a woman of experience.

At the moment it was necessary for her to find her way into the Princess’s good graces, so she ignored the churlish reception and very soon Caroline’s temporary dislike had passed.

Malmesbury took the first opportunity of talking to Mrs. Harcourt and telling her of his fears. Mrs. Harcourt had, of course, been aware of Caroline’s failing and she told the Earl that she was doing all in her power to lure the Princess to cleaner habits.

‘Pray do so,’ begged the Earl, ‘or I fear for the results.’

‘My lord Earl,’ replied Mrs. Harcourt, ‘I think your anxiety over these matters has made you a little blind to our Princess’s virtues. I am sure the Prince will love her. She is so affectionate and good-natured. And you will agree that her desire to please everyone is most engaging.’

‘I recognize these virtues and I hope they will make up for the defects.’

‘Oh, but she is so lovable. And have you noticed a slight resemblance to Maria Fitzherbert— when Maria was young, I mean? I am sure it is there. That in itself would endear her to His Highness.’

‘I had not noticed,’ replied Malmesbury. ‘And certainly there is a great difference in the characters of these two ladies. If Her Highness possessed one half the dignity, the regality of Mrs. Fitzherbert—’

‘Ah, but she is so sweet-tempered and affable. I am sure she will please everyone.’

There was one person who would be very pleased, Mrs. Harcourt was sure, and that was Lady Jersey. But it was impossible to be with the Princess without feeling sympathy for her and Mrs. Harcourt genuinely did find her affable and affectionate.

She was well aware that these qualities would not carry her far with His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. But the more she saw of the Princess, the more Mrs. Harcourt liked her and by the time they set sail for England she shared a little of Malmesbury’s desire to launch the Princess happily.

The Duchess clasped her daughter in her arms.

‘Goodbye, my daughter. May happiness be yours. Tell the King of England that I think of him often and I remember the happy days when we were children together. Tell him how happy I am to see my daughter heir to the throne— Princess of Wales— Queen of England.’

‘It would be scarcely kind to mention that, Mamma, because he has to die before I can be, hasn’t he?’

‘Don’t be so frivolous, Caroline. The King won’t like it. Remember he said he hoped you had not too much vivacity, and would be prepared for a quiet life.’

Caroline pouted. ‘I shall be myself and His Majesty will have to put up with me.’

‘Ob, my dear child, when will you learn? Well, you are married now and nothing can alter that and you are going to my dear— dear England. How I wish I were going with you! Oh no, I don’t. I’m sure I should soon be quarrelling with Charlotte. You will have to beware of Charlotte. I never liked her. She is sly and cunning and she will naturally hate you.’

Lord Malmesbury interrupted with apologies. It was time they left.

Caroline was not sorry to say goodbye to her mother, and she felt her spirits lifted a little. It was a relief that the waiting was over. Very soon now she would see her husband and since she had heard so much about him she was beginning to feel eager to start her married life. He was obviously a very fascinating personality; and she was determined to do everything that would please him, even endure a thorough bathing and changing her underclothes every day. They all seemed to insist on that and though it seemed rather foolish to her, to please him she would do it. Often she looked at the picture which had been brought over for her. He is undoubtedly very handsome, she thought. It will be pleasant to be Princess of Wales and we shall have children.

Yes, she was beginning to look forward with pleasure to the prospect.

The cavalcade arrived at Stade and there they spent the night. Next morning, at dawn, they sailed down the river to Cuxhaven where the English fleet lay in residence. Caroline was touched to realize that these magnificent ships had come from England to carry her to her new home.

As she boarded the Jupiter a royal salute was fired.

The journey to England had truly begun.