Queen in waiting

At the Court of St. James's

The people had accepted their new royal family. They were amused by the love of walking which the Prince and Princess of Wales displayed; Caroline with her husband and sometimes the little girls could often be seen promenading in the Mall; now and then they even strolled all the way from St. James's to Kensington, surrounded by friends, courtiers and ladies of the Princess's household and followed by a crowd of spectators. This habit endeared them to the people who wanted to see their rulers; and the affable Prince and Princess were very much to their taste. Germans, yes, but at least they spoke some sort of English and the Prince had already made his admiration of his new country obvious.

"I haf not a drop of bloot in my veins vich is not English," declared the Prince. "This I am proud of. The English is the best, handsomest, the best shaped, the best natured and loving-est people in the world. And if anybody vish to make his court to me, he must tell me I am like an Englishman."

Such blatant flattery was irresistible.

Caroline was not far behind her husband. "As for me," she contributed to this praise, "I vould as lief live on a dunghill as return to Hanover."

Such remarks were repeated in the crowd who cried: "Long live the Prince and Princess of Wales!" and were very intrigued to learn that the King and the Prince were not on good terms. Their royal family was going to provide some amusement with their family quarrels and it was a royal family's duty to amuse its subjects.

So they were pleased with the Prince of Wales if they did feel resentful towards the King.

On the Prince's birthday there was a ball and at this both Prince and Princess increased their popularity. The Princess with her magnificent bust decorously veiled but not enough to disguise its charms, a fair curl over her shoulder, danced very charmingly with the Prince in her low heeled shoes to make him look less short than he actually was. Her gown sparkled with gems and she was a gay and glittering figure.

The King was present, dour as usual, but even he brightened a little when in the company of women. He was making it clear that although he had brought Mesdames Schulemburg and Kielmansegge to England with him and they were secure in his affection and his habits—which he did not care to change—he could appreciate the charms of other ladies and he implied that although he was not exactly enamoured of the country' of which he had found himself king, he certainly was of the women of that country.

He had already shown interest in Lady Cowper even though that lady had made it clear that she had no intention of sullying her virtuous reputation and he was roused from his lethargy by the sparkling conversation of the Duchess of Shrewsbury who had no such reputation to protect, having been Shrewsbury's mistress before he married her. Being Italian she could speak French much better than most of the English women and as the King used that language, which he spoke fluently and which was understood in England better than German, she had an advantage and she did not let this slip. The King was constantly at her house where he went, he said, to play sixpenny ombre; but both Schulemburg and Kielmansegge were a little uneasy.

After one of these visits the King asked the Princess of Wales to come to his apartments and when Caroline arrived, he said: "I want you to offer the Duchess of Shrewsbury a place in your household."

Caroline taken aback replied that there was no vacant place in her household.

"That is not true," replied the King. "You have not yet filled all posts, have you?"

"They are not in fact filled but I have so many applicants for them that I cannot consider any more."

"This is one you will now consider and appoint."

Anger was in Caroline's heart. She wanted to cry out: It is my household. I shall decide.

But she knew the folly of that. The dislike they felt for each other was turning to hatred and she must not forget that he held the power.

She bowed her head.

"You will send for the Duchess," said the King.

In his longing for Hanover the King grew critical of everything English—except the women. The language he dismissed as gibberish; the food he could not stomach. These islanders turned up their noses at sausages and sauerkraut, while relishing oysters. He declared they were stale when they were served to him, although he had never tasted them in his life before. The climate was terrible, he said. "The climate is the most beautiful in the vorld!" said the Prince of Wales. In truth the climate was very little different from that of Hanover. "The people are noisy and undisciplined," said the King. "The people are full of a natural charm and gaiety," retorted the Prince of Wales.

It was small wonder that the people took the Prince and Princess to their hearts and disliked the King.

George was in no mood to admit he liked anything in his new country, but he could not disguise his love of music. This love was deep in his family and his fellow Hanoverians, and the musicians of his household were treated with greater respect than any other of his servants. Opera he had always delighted in and he often spoke lovingly of the opera house at Hanover, yet he would not admit that the entertainment London had to offer excelled that of his native town.

The play began to fascinate him. In London it had been an important feature of town life since the days of Charles II, who had loved the playhouse and most of all its actresses. There were excellent players and playwrights to please the enormous public who thronged each night to Drury Lane and Lincoln's Inn Fields and the King would have lilied to be among them. He was not however going to show these people that the playhouses of London were a novelty to him and admit that they had nothing like them in Hanover. All the same he could not resist attending and the only way he could do this was to go incognito.

Even so, his heavy features might be sufficiently known for him to be recognized, so he would take a private box, remain hidden at the back of it and watch the players on the stage. He could not understand the words they spoke, but he enjoyed watching their antics and some of the women were very attractive.

But after a while this habit became known and the King could no longer hide his interest in the play. From thence he was often seen in the royal box and because of this he found some favour with actors, actresses and all those connected with the theatre, for many people would come to the theatre to see German George, as much as the play.

The King's lack of English was a drawback, so managers began to look for plays with the minimum of dialogue.

Caroline pointed out to her husband that the King had become less unpopular with the people by this playgoing habit.

"Perhaps," she said, "we should go more to the theatre."

George Augustus saw the point at once and the whole royal family took to visiting the theatre frequently.

There were more cheers, Caroline noticed with satisfaction, for the Prince of Wales than for the King.

He and Caroline would be bowing and smiling from their box and the King would be scowling from his and they could laugh at the jokes of the players while the King could not begin to understand them.

This rivalry was becoming a matter of great delight to the Prince and more and more irritating to the King.

It was noticed that at Betterton's The Wanton Wife the King ignored the Prince and Princess, never once looking their way while the Prince threw many a scornful look at the King's box. The audience was delighted. A feud in the royal family aroused interest, enabled them to take sides; and sentimental feeling was, of course, with the Prince and Princess who smiled on them so affectionately and loved all things English, rather than on sour-faced George who clearly would have preferred to go back to Hanover.

James Stuart could not have provided more entertainment; he would have had French mistresses instead of German ones and they may have been more attractive—in fact how could they have been less?—but there was a lot of fun to be had from the Elephant and the Maypole.

"Long live King George I" cried the theatre crowds. "Long live the Prince and Princess of Wales."

The King was thoughtful; he was fully aware of what was going on in the coffee houses. The Jacobite writers were sending out their lampoons and the supporters of the Stuart were drinking to the King across the water.

At a ball given in the Haymarket at which the royal family were present and to which, since it was a masked ball, all sorts of people could find a way in, the King in his mask, was approached by a woman. She was young and seemed attractive and George was never one to forego an adventure. He had to admit, of course, that he could not speak English and found to his pleasure that she could speak tolerable French.

She said: "It is sad for England since we have had Germans among us."

"You do not like them?" asked the King.

"Who could? They are so crude. They are not like us. I should be glad to see them turned away."

"You think they will be?"

"Without a doubt. We don't want German George here and many say he doesn't want to be here. Let him go back to Hanover and no harm done."

"It mightn't be a bad idea."

"Let us drink a health," said the woman; and taking his hand she led him to a buffet where she filled two glasses.

She lifted hers. "To King James III now across the water. May he soon be in his rightful place."

George looked into his glass and she went on: "Come! Why don't you drink? Drink to King James! "

"I drink with all my heart to the health of any unfortunate prince," said the King.

After that he was in no mood for possible seduction and he left early.

He was not liked by his new subjects. It was possible that he would be sent back to Hanover.

It would, he reflected, be rather pleasant to end his days there.

George Augustus was watching his wife's maid of honour and Caroline was watching George Augustus. They were in church, for the King's advisers had pointed out that it was essential to show the people that the new dynasty was determined to support the Church of England.

The King knew, even in his most nostalgic moments, that he would be a fool to lose this kingdom. Even though he himself longed to go back to Hanover he must make the three crowns of England, Scotland and Ireland secure for his descendants. As far as George Augustus was concerned, he could go to hell for all he cared, but there was young Frederick now in Hanover who would in his turn be Prince of Wales and King.

Therefore to church went the King but the long sermons in a tongue he could not understand were a trial to him and he could not pretend they were otherwise. He slept through most of them, or if he couldn't sleep he would discuss state matters with whoever was next to him. The preacher had to accept that. Now he was asleep, a fact made obvious by his intermittent snores. The Prince however was alert, his eyes speculatively on lovely Mary Bellenden.

Caroline was wondering whether she had been wise to accumulate such a band of beauties and bring them into her household. Yes, she decided, better to have them under her surveillance, and Mrs. Clayton and Mrs. Howard would be excellent watchdogs—particularly Henrietta who had her own position to think of.

Margaret Meadows, the oldest of the girls was sitting up primly in her pew and giving side glances at the girls who, taking their cue from the King, showed no attention to the preacher—on this occasion the renowned Bishop Burnet. Mary Bellenden and Molly Lepel were whispering together. Fair and pretty Bridget Carteret, who was a niece of Lord Carteret, was doing her best to suppress her giggles which was more than Sophia Howe could manage. Every now and then the girl's choking laughter could be heard. Sophie was very frivolous. I should dismiss her, thought Caroline. But she was the granddaughter of Prince Rupert—although on the wrong side of the blanket—who was a brother of the Electress Sophia, and such a close connection could not be ignored; but the girl would have to be spoken to.

Bishop Burnet had turned his scornful gaze from the snoring King to the giggling maids of honour and made it very clear that he was displeased with the House of Hanover. Queen Anne had been most devout in her attitude to the church; Queen Mary had been the same; it was true King James had been a Catholic and been dismissed for it; and King Charles had made comments during sermons, but at least they were witty. Bishop Burnet had implied that these were newcomers to England and if they wished to retain their popularity they must show due respect to the church.

He was right, of course, thought Caroline; but in fact her thoughts were more occupied with George Augustus's interest in Mary Bellenden than Bishop Burnet's criticism of her maids.

How far would Mary Bellenden seek to impose her will, she wondered. She was very very pretty and could no doubt have a great influence on George Augustus if she wished. She reminded herself that she had been lucky so far.

The King gave a louder snore than usual which woke him up; he looked about him startled for a moment and then saw that the service was almost over, so yawning inelegantly he prepared to leave. The maids of honour—Sophia Howe still giggling—trooped out of their pews, and the royal party left the church for the palace.

Bishop Burnet bowed to Caroline.

"I am grieved, Your Highness," he said, "to make this complaint to you, but it is no use taking it to His Majesty whose snoring through my sermons—and those of others—shows clearly that he has little respect for the conduct of his servants in church."

"For me too there is the grief," replied Caroline. "I too have these naughty girls seen."

"Your Highness will agree, I am sure that such behaviour cannot continue."

"I agree," replied Caroline.

"The Church is becoming nothing but a meeting place for the purpose of flirtation. It is full now of young men who come simply to gaze at the maids of honour and attempt to make their acquaintance. Your Highness will agree that that is not the purpose of the service."

"You are right. Bishop."

"It cannot go on."

"Do you vish that they stay away?"

"Stay away and imperil their souls. Your Highness? Those girls are half-way to perdition already. No, their pew should be boarded in and the board should be high enough to prevent their being seen by the young men."

"You mean ... put them in a petit ... box?"

"Your Highness might call it that. They must listen to the service but not be seen."

"Oh, it is ... traurig. They are so pretty."

"Your Highness we must not concern ourselves with their physical perfections but the welfare of their souls."

"Ah, yes, yes. There shall be this ... box, if you so say."

Dr. Burnet left the Princess satisfied with his interview. She was a good woman, a sensible woman; and he would not be displeased when the time came for her to mount the throne as Queen.

The Prince had waylaid Mary Bellenden.

"You are von pretty madchen," he told her.

She made a pert curtsey.

"I you like very much."

She took a few paces backwards and head on one side regarded him, slightly insolently, but she was so pretty that even so she was delightful.

"And you like me? That is veil, eh?"

"It is the duty of a good subject to honour the Prince of Wales," replied Mary demurely.

"So, you vill this duty do?"

"It depends how far this duty extends."

"Vat is dis?"

"Your Highness I am a virtuous young lady."

"Ah ... yes ... you are very pretty."

"So I am told. Your Highness. But I am constantly having to tell others how virtuous I am. They won't believe me. But I have to convince them. And it will be the same with your Highness, I fear."

"Vat is dis?"

But she had already made a sweeping curtsey and moved to the door; she smiled at him provocatively for one second before she disappeared.

"Got damn it," said the Prince.

There were wails of protests from the gay gallants of the court when they saw the boarded-up pew but this was something they could not blame on the Hanoverians. This was their own Bishop Burnet who had decided to hide the pretty creatures from sight. The whole object of going to church was spoilt; for it was small consolation to hear the giggles of Sophia Howe, always louder than the rest, behind the high wooden wall.

They didn't go to church to be bored by Bishop Burnet or any preacher; and the amusement the King had at first caused with his snores and loud conversation during sermon time had worn thin.

Soon the lampooners were busy.

"Bishop Burnet perceived that the beautiful dames Who flocked to the chapel of hilly St. James On their lovers alone their kind looks did bestow. And smiled not on him while he bellowed below."

There followed more verses to explain what had happened and these ended with:

"The Princess by rude importunity pressed,

Though she laughed at his reasons, allowed his request;

And now Britain's nymphs in a Protestant reign

Are boxed up at prayers like virgins of Spain"

The King read copies of the lampoon and saw for the first time that these English could mock their own kind, if they thought they deserved it, as readily as any stranger. He saw too that they were no respecters of persons.

He felt a little warmer towards them and was more than usually disturbed when reports of new Jacobite riots were brought to him.

His unpopularity increased with the passing of the months. His two German mistresses were loathed by the people and jeered at whenever their coaches were seen in the streets. Schulemburg, who remained his first favourite, had proved herself to be of a very avaricious disposition and was continually seeking to enlarge her fortunes. George knew this and made no effort to stop her. The English, he said, were the most grasping people he had ever met. He was constantly being pestered by those about him for posts for this and that relation or friend. Therefore he was sardonically amused that Ermengarda should get what she wanted from them.

She came to him one day in a state of some agitation. She had been riding through the streets of London when the crowd had stopped her carriage and shouted insults at her.

"They call me Maypole," she said.

"There's nothing new in that," replied George. "It's the name they gave you when they first saw you."

For once Ermengarda could not be placated; her face under her red wig was sweating with indignation.

"l look from the window and I spoke to them in English," she explained. "I said this: 'Good pipple, why you abuse us? We come for all your goots.' And what do you think they shouted at me? *Yes, damn you,' they cried, 'And for all our chattels too.'"

When George understood the meaning of this he laughed sardonically. They were a garrulous lot, his new subjects. They seemed in love with words; no wonder the lampooners were so effective.

He told Ermengarda that she must not take the matter to heart.

"For," he said gloomily, "we are here, and here we must try to stay."

"And you think they will not send us back to Hanover?" she asked, little lights of fear shooting up in her eyes. If they returned to Hanover what would happen to her plans for amassing future wealth. England was a great milch cow and her dear George Lewis, whom she had truly loved for so long that she was as a wife to him, would help her to the milking.

"I think some may try," said George, "but they won't succeed."

"No, we must stop them. It could never be that they should turn you out. Silly people. Do they not know you come for their good."

"And their chattels?" added George with a rare touch of humour.

The King was thoughtful while being dressed by the only two servants whom he allowed into his bedchamber. This in itself was a complete disregard of royal etiquette for the ceremony of dressing the King had been one of the most important in the household and those courtiers who took part in it consequently of high standing. And that these two servants should be Turks was yet another insult to English custom.

Mustapha and Mahomet might be a pair of rogues, but they were no more avaricious than the fine ladies and gentlemen who surrounded him. He doubted they had ever learned the art of peculation as thoroughly as the great Duke of Marlborough a man whom George would never trust. Oh, he was friendly enough now and he had his uses, but there was a man who could turn his coat with more rapidity than most. George had heard that even while he accepted office with him he was in secret communication with James Stuart, just in case the Jacobites should succeed in bringing him back.

Life was very different here from in Hanover. There it had been far less complicated. There, although he had been Elector of a small community he had received more respect than he did as King of this great country. The Germans were by nature more disciplined than the English. He wished he were back.

These people had no respect for anyone. Only recently on the occasion of his birthday he had, because he had been told it was the custom, provided his Guards with new clothing. He was not a man who cared to waste money and naturally he had given the commission to the company which had given the cheapest estimate. It seemed that the shirts were much coarser than those previously supplied and as a result the Guards had marched through the City throwing off their jackets to show the quality of what the lampooners were soon calling "Hanoverian shirts".

That brought Marlborough to the King. One could not, said the Duke, afford to upset the soldiery. It was possible that a small affair like the cheap shirts could be the very spark to set off a mutiny.

Marlborough, George reflected cynically, must be of the opinion that the House of Hanover was in a stronger position than that of Stuart for he immediately ordered a double supply of shirts and jackets of the very best quality and added to it an extra donation of beer.

Such incidents made the King aware of the insecurity of his position.

Then again he enjoyed walking but he had no desire to be followed by a crowd who watched him and laughed and talked about him in a language he could not understand.

St. James's Park was beautiful but, in his opinion, spoilt by the people who crowded there and used it as their own. It belonged to the King. Why, he wanted to know, should not the King reserve it for his own special use?

He had talked of this to his Secretary of State, Lord Towns-end, who had taken over that office on the dismissal of Bolingbroke, because the latter being a Jacobite naturally could not retain his position when George came to England.

"I want to know," George had said, "how much it would cost to shut up St. James's Park and keep it for my private use."

Townsend had hesitated only for a second and then replied; "It would cost you three crowns. Sire."

A witty remark such as these English loved—but very much to the point this one. And it brought home to him yet once more how very precariously he sat on the throne of England.

Mahomet was placing his wig on his head, and George looked at the reflection of the dark face close to that with the heavy sullen jaw which was his own.

Bolingbroke! he thought. There was a man who could make trouble. And it was not long ago that he had fled to France.

He was an ambitious man, that Bolingbroke; in the last reign he had aspired to lead the government. He had quarrelled with Harley and helped by that woman of devious character. Lady Masham, might have succeeded very well indeed if Anne had not died, or if he had been able to bring James Stuart to England. He was too confirmed a Jacobite to change coats with sufficient alacrity and naturally he was dismissed—but dismissal was not all he had to fear. Walpole had wanted to impeach him and impeached he would have been had he not taken action. He had known this so he had artfully assumed an indifference he was far from feeling.

"I shall devote myself to literature," he had declared; and had gone to the opera, where he had greeted all his friends and generally called attention to himself by making appointments to see them in the following weeks. But when he left the opera he had gone to his house, put on a large black wig, dressed himself as a valet and made for Dover; and once there he crossed to France.

It was obvious to whom he was now offering his services.

The throne was very shaky.

Well, thought George, if I lose it, I shall go back to Hanover.

Herrenhausen would be very beautiful now; it would be good to smell the sausages and sauerkraut cooking in the old kitchens of the Leine Schloss.

And yet...

Was he beginning to have a little affection for this adopted country? Scarcely affection. But he must think of the generation to come—the future Kings and Queens of England.

Shortly afterwards on a bright September day Lord Towns-end and the Duke of Marlborough called on the King.

Prince James Francis Edward Stuart had landed in Scotland and had been welcomed there as King James III of England Scotland and Ireland.