Queen in waiting

The Days of Glory

Oh, the joy of being rid of the King!

On her bed in the Wren wing of Hampton Court Caroline lay dreamily looking up at the ceiling. It was a magnificent apartment with the windows looking out on the Great Fountain garden and the park beyond.

She was pregnant and pregnancies were uncomfortable but it was a good state for a Princess to be in and she was hoping this time for a boy—a boy whom she would keep with her. She loved the children; and they were always happy to be with her. One of the pleasantest hours of the day was when they were brought to her—Anne in charge. She was seven and thought herself the head of the family, keeping five year old Amelia and three year old Caroline in order. Oh, it was cruel of the King to keep Fritzchen from his parents and his sisters! But what could one expect from a man who allowed his own wife to remain a prisoner for twenty years.

But she must not think of Fritzchen. Nothing must spoil the perfection of these days. She had never really been so happy; in fact if she could have her son in England and her father-in-law in Hanover she would ask nothing more of life.

She loved England; and the most beautiful place in England in her eyes was Hampton. The lovely peaceful river; the palace; the grounds. Never would she want to be in any other place. She continued to gaze at the high ceiling. The apartment was a lofty thirty feet in height and on the ceiling only a year ago Sir James Thornhill had painted Aurora in her golden chariot rising from the sea; her attendant fat little cupids reminded her of baby Caroline. She would not look at the portraits on the wall; to contemplate either of the subjects made her unhappy for one was the King, morose and forbidding, to remind her that this was only a temporary release; the other was Fritzchen to remind her of their separation.

No, she would luxuriate in her bed, for it was the custom which they had brought from Hanover to eat a heavy meal and then retire to rest in the afternoon—one of the few pleasant customs they had brought; but the English said it made them fat.

There were many sly comments made behind their backs, she was certain. The English did not like the Germans. Well, we must try to be as English as possible, she thought; tor we are English now.

She was wishing that she had learned to speak the language without this atrocious German accent of hers which must remind people whence she came as soon as she spoke. She remembered the old Electress Sophia who had been so anxious for her to learn English and how she had been pleased when George Augustus had become Henrietta Howard's lover because he would improve his English.

How did George Augustus feel nowadays towards Henrietta? She had become a habit; he was like his father in many ways. Still, she would not complain for she had nothing to fear from Henrietta, who had no wish to come into conflict with her, nor to show her power. A wise woman, Henrietta.

Such luxury to lie here in the quietness of the Palace. May the King stay long in Hanover, prayed Caroline. We can do so much while he is away. Make our position strong. Lay the foundation for the future.

Down in the gardens her maids of honour would be walking with their admirers, frolicking and flirting, taking advantage of the after dinner drowsiness of the Prince and Princess. It was as though since the departure of the King a pall had been lifted and everywhere there was gaiety. Even the weather was exceptionally good.

In his apartments George Augustus would be sleeping deeply, perhaps snoring gently, a smile on his face, for he had become a very happy man since the departure of his father.

Yes, this was indeed a foretaste of glories to come.

Even in a few weeks they had begun to create a new way of life—gracious and luxurious, splendid and royal. That was something the King could never do.

Caroline thought of those few trips she and the Prince had taken down the river in their barge which was decorated with crimson velvet, a royal barge; the Prince in his wig, his blue velvet coat ornamented with silver, his tall wig, his beaming smile; herself magnificently dressed, glittering with jewels— looking as a Prince and Princess should look. How different from dour George—and the people showed by their interest, their comments and their cheers that they preferred their royalty this way.

That was important. Never must they lose sight of the need to placate the people. But that was not all. To Hampton Court came men and women who were dissatisfied with their present positions. They had seen that it might be possible to build another court in which they would be appreciated.

These were not the people Caroline wished to gather about her. She did not want the malcontents; but they would do for a start. She had her eyes on men like Walpole and Townsend. But it was necessary to show that she and the Prince were interested in state matters; and all the time every man and woman at court must be aware that the King was an ageing man.

First, she had thought, let us make a court. Let it be gay, a miniature Versailles; for under the cover of gaiety, intrigue could begin—an intrigue to make the court of the Prince and Princess not only more amusing and entertaining but more rewarding.

In surrounding herself with beautiful girls like Mary Bellenden and Molly Lepel she had drawn men of all ages to Hampton; and once there they realized that there was something more to be had than flirtation. The King would be surprised if he came back now and saw the traffic on the river; barges, gaily decorated, containing exquisitely dressed men and women came sailing from London to Hampton; the sounds of music constantly broke the quiet of the afternoon.

George had only been a few weeks away and life was changing, becoming gay, colourful and amusing.

If she had a son and if she could have Fritzchen with her, she would be completely happy. At least she had insisted that he have an English tutor; she wanted him to speak the language fluently when he did come. Fritzchen must not have an accent like herself or George Augustus. The girls were speaking English beautifully, and she loved to listen to them.

Of course she thought, if our court becomes powerful, which it may well do, we can demand the return of Fritzchen.

There was a discreet scratching at the door and Henrietta Howard came in.

She moved gracefully to the Princess's bed. She was a charming looking woman—although not exactly beautiful. Her hair was lovely, abundant and fine and she wore it simply dressed with a curl over her shoulder—a fashion which Caroline favoured a good deal herself. What was it about Henrietta? A serenity, Caroline decided. Like herself, Henrietta made her way by gentleness, never making demands on the Prince always ready to bow to his wishes. Clever Henrietta!

"Is it time to rise then, Henrietta?"

"Yes, Highness. The children are waiting outside."

"Then bring them in."

They came in and Caroline held out her hand bidding them come to her bedside.

Anne, as the eldest came ahead of the others, almost pushing them aside in her eagerness to be there first. Not, thought Caroline, because she wishes to be with me; but because she must be first. She is too proud, too conscious of her dignity, this one, too much aware of being a Princess.

"Veil and vat have you been doing this day?" asked Caroline.

"What have we been doing today, Mamma?" A gentle correction, this. Caroline was glad she could make it but wondered whether the slight arrogance should be reproved or ignored. "We have been walking in the park and playing in the pond garden. Caroline fell into the pond. It was rather stupid of her. But she is stupid."

Little Caroline's lips began to tremble and her mother held out her hand. The child took it and Henrietta lifted her on to the bed.

"There," said the Princess, "is that better? I remember when I was von little girl I fell into a pond."

The child was happy nestling close. She is too thin, thought her mother. I must tell them to take special care of her. Does Anne bully her?

Amelia would not, of course. Contemplating her second daughter Caroline was proud of her charming looks. Amelia already showed signs of being the beauty of the family and, although two years younger, was as tall as Anne. Although, like Anne, she was fully aware of the dignity due to a Princess she was not spiteful and would stand by her little sister.

I wish I could see more of them, thought the Princess.

"Now you must me tell how you fall into the pond."

"She slipped," said Anne. "And Lord Hervey pulled her out.

"Mrs. Lepel was there and she said she must change her clothes; and Lord Hervey carried her into the palace."

Caroline was trying to remember Lord Hervey ... a young man new to the court, she supposed. She must ask Molly Lepel sometime.

"And Mrs. Bellenden helped, and they made such a fuss. They made her change her clothes."

Little Caroline was smiling, so evidently she had enjoyed the adventure.

"Let Caroline tell me herself," said her mother.

She loved to listen to the prattle of their voice—English voices. A pity that however much she tried she could not rid herself of her German accent. Oh dear, what was happening to Fritzchen? Would he arrive speaking English like his father and mother?

There were voices outside; Caroline recognized the booming tones of her husband. So he had had his sleep and was already dressed. She had not noticed how the time was flying.

"Ha, my dear! So this is how I find you. In bed, eh? It is goot ... for your condition."

He was beaming. The part of first gentleman suited him. His great desire, like hers, would be that his father remained in Hanover and never returned.

"So ... our little ones are here too."

Anne and Amelia looked at him with awe; young Caroline drew a little closer to her mother.

He was smiling jovially enough, but somehow he had not the knack of winning their confidences. Perhaps it was because, with the intuition of children they sensed beneath his bonhomie a boredom with them.

Caroline was disappointed because he had disturbed her interview with her children—and she always looked forward to these meetings with the utmost pleasure—but this was something he must never know.

"So you grow up," he said. "Ha, you are von big girl now."

"Yes, Papa, I am a big girl."

"I am as tall, Papa, although I'm two years younger," Amelia pointed out.

"She is too tall," said Anne.

The animosity between the two sisters was visible, and that it should be over a matter of height was disturbing on account of the Prince's preoccupation with his own lack of inches.

"My tear," said the Prince, "it is time I should take you for your valk. I vill vant to speak vis you of the celebrations for the anniversary of our coming. It is just two years and it is expected."

"That shall be very interesting."

The Prince sat down on a stool and looked tenderly at his wife. A fine woman—and these their children. Fine children; and Caroline soon to have another. He had done well.

Henrietta came to the bed and lifted off young Caroline. She took the little girl by the hand and with the others went to the door.

The Prince followed them with his eyes. His wife, his children, his mistress ... here together ... happy together. His father far away; men and women everywhere seeking his favour.

He had never been so contented in his life.

Those were enchanting days at Hampton—not only for the Prince and Princess and those who flocked to their court but for simple country folk. George I had wanted to close St. James's Park and had been told that his three crowns would be in jeopardy if he did; in direct contrast George Augustus appeared to delight in the presence of his father's subjects, however lowly, in the grounds of Hampton Court. He and Caroline, taking their walk there often stopped to say a word or two to some countryman and his wife and left them gaping after them, loyal supporters for ever after.

Hampton Court was the gayest, merriest Court that had existed since the days of Charles H. Old men and women, such as the Duchess of Monmouth, recalled the court of that monarch and the excitement of long ago. They told tales of the witty King and his merry Court. Like the Prince and Princess of Wales he had spent a great deal of time in what he called sauntering. It was an excellent custom for it enabled his subjects to see him often and even talk with him now and then. But whereas Charles had strolled with a bevy of mistresses and his spaniels, the Prince of Wales strolled with his wife—and wonderfully tender he was to her on account of her condition; it was true his mistress was in attendance too; but a man might be allowed one mistress, and since his wife appeared to have no objection, why should anyone else?

The Prince and Princess of Wales were very quickly forming their own special entourage and at the same time winning the approval of the King's subjects.

No wonder they were satisfied!

There was one who was not.

Count Hans Caspar von Bothmer, never far from the Prince of Wales, watched in consternation. The King was enjoying his visit to Hanover. He had heard rumours that there was rejoicing there at the return of the Elector, that his German subjects were delighted that he was back with them and appreciated him more than ever now that he brought English money and English support for Hanover.

He was at Herrenhausen reunited with the Countess von Platen though Schulemburg and Kielmansegge were in attendance. "The King gives every sign that he has forgotten the misfortune which happened to him and his family in August 1714," said one report.

"The King so clearly loves Hanover that he will never willingly leave it," said another.

And meanwhile in England his son was playing King.

In his apartments Bothmer wrote down everything he noticed at Hampton Court and sent it to the King. It was a warning, but the King had never wanted the crown of England; his heart was in Hanover and he could not bring himself to leave his old home.

Fanning herself, for the sun was warm, Caroline sat in one of the pavilions with her little girls, her ladies and some of the gentlemen of the court, while the Prince presented prizes to the winners of the races which he had organized.

Caroline loved the pavilions which had been built at each corner of the Green and had been luxuriously furnished. Like the Prince, she was fond of being out of doors and spent a great deal of time here, so that although her condition prevented her walking as much as she would like she could enjoy the fresh air. In the late afternoons she and her friends would drink a dish of tea and the country folk would see them chatting or playing cards. This was what the people wanted from their royalty. The less privacy the better.

Caroline, sensing this, readily accepted it; George Augustus was so anxious to be the centre of attraction that the sacrifice of his privacy was no hardship. They had grown accustomed to being watched at dinner and if at times they were a little weary of it, they reminded themselves that one of the main causes of the King's unpopularity was his refusal to show himself and be gracious to his subjects.

Mary Bellenden was talking quietly to Colonel John Campbell and Caroline reflected that Mary had become more serious lately; Sophie Howe was flirting with several young men, throwing them provocative glances, whispering, and now and then suppressing her giggles; Sophie would never be serious; and Molly Lepel was talking to one of the young men from the Prince's household, Lord Hervey, a very amusing young man, she suspected, if she could judge from Molly's smiles.

Henrietta was close to her, solicitous as ever of her needs, and Lady Cowper and Mrs. Clayton were at hand ready to criticize everything Henrietta did because they did not approve of her relationship with the Prince.

One could not explain to them that it was better that he should have a mistress on whom she could keep an eye, and certainly one like Henrietta who never flaunted her position and performed her duties in the Princess's bedchamber as efficiently as she did those in the Prince's.

There was a burst of applause as one of the winners curtsied to the Prince. Caroline clapped her hands and bade the little girls do the same. George Augustus presented a quilted petticoat to the girl.

"It vill you most become," he told her to the delight of the crowd.

And for another a smock and another a sarcenet hood.

"You vill not forget this day ... not never, eh?"

Even the Prince's German accent sounded charming on that day.

"And I am sorry for all those who haf not von. Everyone cannot vin. Is it not? For all there shall be vine and cakes. Then ve are all happy."

The Prince came to the pavilion.

"And you are not in a vind, my tearest? Ve must of you take care."

Mrs. Howard sprang forward to place a scarf about the Princess's shoulders.

"No, it is not necessary. It hide the Princess's neck ... and that is von shame. The Princess haf the most beautiful neck in the vorld. The people should see."

"I am not cold," said Caroline.

The Prince sat beside her, beaming, contented.

"It is goot," he said, "to see our peoples so happy."

His eyes were misty as they rested on lovely Mary Bellenden. What a charming creature! Should not a Prince have more than one mistress? Would the people, who so often talked of Charles II with affection, particularly now that he George Augustus had shown them what a gay court he would let them share in, say "Ah, but he will never be as Charles. Charles had many mistresses; he would stroll in the Mall with three or four at a time."

He called to Henrietta to stand beside him.

"You haf enjoyed this day, my tear?" he asked.

She assured him that it had been amusing to watch the races and it gave her great pleasure to see everyone having such a pleasant day.

He pressed her hand.

"I shall visit you this evening," he said.

"Your Highness is gracious," replied Henrietta.

Henrietta was giving a little party. She was popular and these occasions were always well attended, for she was so good hearted that she could never take sides between Whigs or Tories but longed for a peaceful existence and this she seemed to achieve.

To her party came the Prince of Wales. The Princess had retired early on account of her condition; and there was cards and music. The Prince treated Henrietta with almost luxurious tenderness; she had become such a habit with him. Although when Mary Bellenden was present he would turn a definitely lascivious gaze on her. As for Mary she was quite content to be in the Prince's company as long as there were others present. Perhaps, she thought, I could get him to do something for John, for John was so poor that difficulties would be made if they tried to marry just yet. But I'll have no other, Mary thought fiercely, and reminded herself she was foolish to think the Prince would grant honours to his successful rival. He was not that sort of man.

She noticed that Lord Townsend was present tonight which was a compliment to Henrietta Howard; and he was beside her showing her great attention, and it seemed as though he respected her.

Mary wanted to laugh. Did Townsend think that he could find favour with the Prince through Henrietta Howard! He was not very discerning if he did—and he a Prime Minister —for Henrietta had no influence at all with the Prince; in fact the only reason why she held her position was because she made no attempt to meddle. The Prince of Wales resembled the King in as much as he liked his women docile. Mary knew that any woman's favour with the Prince would depend upon her ability in getting her way without letting him know it.

Henrietta would be no good at that; so she was wise enough not to try.

Now the Princess . . . that was another matter. It was obvious to Mary that the Princess had her way far more often than the Prince realized.

Sophie Howe had come up to her.

"Look who's here," said Mary.

"My lord Townsend, the Prime Minister?"

"It's the first time he's been here."

"I don't find him attractive," said Sophie. "He doesn't interest me."

Mary laughed. "You seem to be obsessed by one idea."

"It's a very nice idea," retorted Sophie.

Mary was not the only one who had noticed the presence of the Prime Minister. Lady Cowper was watching him, and knew very well why he had come.

She did not approve of Henrietta Howard; in fact she liked to imply that had she been a woman of a less rigid moral character she might have borne the same relationship towards the King as Henrietta Howard did to the Prince of Wales.

She was fond of saying that she had quickly made the King aware that if he wanted an English mistress he should look elsewhere, and had gladly taken up her post in the Princess's household.

She and Mrs. Clayton, both having serious natures, deplored the frivolous behaviour of some of the maids of honour, and in particular Sophie Howe. If Lady Cowper could have had her way that girl would have been dismissed long ago.

So now, she noticed Townsend and was very certain that there was a purpose behind his visit to Henrietta Howard's rooms. She was faintly disturbed too for she believed that if important politicians began paying attention to Henrietta Howard, very soon the woman could become important. That was something Lady Cowper would prevent if it were possible.

She made her way to Townsend's side.

"A pleasant party, my lord," she said.

"Very pleasant." He looked at her without interest. The man is not subtle enough, thought Lady Cowper. Knowing my position with the Princess he should be careful. But of course he did not realize the importance of the Princess.

She decided to speak to him frankly.

"If you seek the Prince's favour you have come to the wrong place."

Townsend looked startled.

"Mrs. Howard has no influence with him whatsoever."

Townsend hesitated. Then he said: "I should like to hear the Prince's views."

"Knowing you are his father's Prime Minister he is scarcely likely to trust you."

"This is unfortunate ... this feud between the King and Prince."

"Oh, doubtless it will enable some men to make their fortunes."

"It is not good for the country."

"And you ... as the King's man would like to hear the Prince's case."

"Naturally."

"And therefore you seek the friendship of his nearest confidante?"

Townsend was silent.

"You are in the wrong apartment, my lord. I did not think your manner particularly gracious to the Princess in the pavilion today. The Princess may have noticed it. She is not a figurehead, you know."

"It was the Prince's views in which I was interested."

"My lord, you are not aware of the truth. The woman who guides the Prince in all he does is the Princess. If you wish for the Prince's favour first seek that of the Princess."

Townsend was looking at Henrietta who, being a little deaf, was straining to hear what the Prince was saying to her.

"She is his mistress, yes," said Lady Cowper. "She is a habit with him, or it might be that he would have discarded her. She dare not attempt to advise him."

"And the Princess dares?"

"The Princess is the cleverest woman at this court, my lord. Until you have discovered that you will not get far with the Prince. She will be at cards in the pavilion tomorrow. If you wish it I will present you to her. She will be gracious and forgive you for past neglect. She will know of course how you blundered."

Townsend looked alarmed.

"I'm right you will find," laughed Lady Cowper. "In time you will realize that."

To his surprise Townsend discovered that Lady Cowper was right. The Princess of Wales while bearing the heirs to the realm had time to spare for dabbling in politics. In fact, once Townsend had gained her confidence she was ready to show that the subject was to her the most fascinating in the world and that when the time came for her to be Queen of England she would do everything in her power to play a big part in its government.

She was clever because she was controlled. Her gift of deceiving the Prince into thinking that she followed him in his ideas when the facts were the complete reverse, was masterly.

Here, thought Townsend, is a true statesman. And he wondered at his folly in not realizing this before.

Walpole was aware of it also, but he was more cautious; he was not going to be on with the new before the old was out. He had warned Townsend that that old spy Bothmer was watching them and reporting everything to Hanover.

Those were days of excitement to Townsend and even more so to Caroline. Sitting in the pavilion sipping tea or coffee, listening to music, watching the card players, sometimes joining in herself, but preferring to sit apart with the Prince or such men as Townsend talking cautiously; it was almost as though she were already the Queen.

It was what she longed for—to be the Queen. Her first command would be that Fritzchen be brought to England. She would also send for Leibniz. What pleasure to have him here! How he would enjoy talking to the brilliant men with whom she was filling her court!

That was what she needed for complete happiness. In the meantime it was pleasant here at Hampton, sitting in the pleasant warmth of late summer. Late summer alas! She would always remember this summer as the happiest she had known since the death of Sophia Charlotte—and it was passing for the warm days were already growing sadly short; soon they would leave Hampton for St. James's ... and the King could not stay away for ever.

Townsend was saying: "I greatly fear that England will be drawn into war. The people of this country do not want war. They hate war. It means to them death and taxation ... and no gain. What gain would there be for us in war? Of course there might be some gain to Hanover. But the people of this country can hardly be expected to make sacrifices for Hanover."

"They should not be asked to," replied Caroline quickly.

Townsend drew a deep breath. Were those the Prince's views? he wondered.

Caroline seemed to sense his thoughts for she added: "The Prince and I vould be strongly against this country making the sacrifice for Hanover. Hanover cannot expect it."

"Hanover does expect. The King and his German ministers are of the opinion that England and Hanover should stand as one."

"That," said Caroline with a laugh, "is a Hanoverian view and not, I believe an English one."

"Your Highness is right. But.. /'

"A strong opposition in England vould mean that this could not be/'

"It is the wish of the King and many of his Hanoverian ministers. But... what of the Prince?"

"I believe the Prince, nay I am sure the Prince vould not agree to his father. My lord, you vill know that there is hardly von matter on vich they agree. And certainly it vould not be this von."

Townsend was alert. If he could get the Prince of Wales to support him, if here with the Prince and Princess he could build up a strong opposition to those who could put Hanover before England, he might get his way and remain in office.

"If I could speak to the Prince..."

"He vill be delighted to giv you von audience."

"And Your Highness will be present?"

Caroline smiled. This was what she had always wanted. She would prepare the Prince who would be only too eager to intrigue against his father. Nothing would delight him more; and it would not be difficult for her to guide him along the way she wanted him to go.

She noticed that the Count von Bothmer was talking to Lord Hervey. The German made a point of attending any gathering at which she or the Prince were present. The King should have chosen a less obvious spy. But they must be careful. If the King knew that the Prime Minister was conferring with her and the Prince, surely he would realize the need for returning to England at once.

She said: "I vould like to hear some singing. Mrs. Bellenden has the voice tres charmante, Mrs. Howard, I pray you tell Mrs. Bellenden I vould hear her sing. And perhaps aftervards Lord Hervey would recite to us some of his verses."

Townsend bowed and said he would acquaint Lord Hervey with Her Highness's wishes.

He understood perfectly why she had interrupted their conversation. Bothmer would undoubtedly report what he had seen to his master.

The Prime Minister was uneasy. The Prince of Wales could have little power while his father lived. But of course the King was not a young man—and in the political field it was often necessary to take risks.

The Prince watching Mary Bellenden sing, thought: This is the most beautiful girl at court !

She had spirit ... too much spirit. He would have preferred her docile, eager, very honoured to be noticed by the Prince of Wales.

Alas, she was not so. Sometimes her eyes flashed scornfully and he wondered why he pursued her. She was tall and slender —not plump and rounded. She was very English.

It is the English I love best in the world, thought George Augustus, as though repeating a lesson.

In the streets people sang verses about her. The beautiful Mary Bellenden and the fair Molly Lepel were rivals for beauty. But give him Mary; and it would be right and proper that either one of the reigning beauties should be his mistress. Could she not see that?

He hummed under his breath a song he had heard one of his gentlemen singing:

"What pranks are played behind the scenes, And who at Court the belle? Some swear it is the Bellenden. And others say Lepel."

I say the Bellenden! he thought.

He had betrayed his feelings for her and she was not the only one who was aware of them. It was undignified that the Prince of Wales's desires should go unsatisfied.

He had always believed though that in time she would be his mistress. She was no prude, so why delay? He could only think that like most of the people at Court she wanted something. And what could she want but money?

He knew she had her financial difficulties like most extravagant young ladies, for he had heard her complain of bills. He must therefore take an opportunity of letting her see that if she would become his mistress she would have so much money that she need never be bothered by bills ... while she continued to please him.

Mary had finished signing and had gone to sit in an alcove in the pavilion with Margaret Meadows and Mrs. Clayton.

The Prince made his way by degrees to her corner, stopping to chat on the way, believing that by so doing he disguised his intention of singling out Mary.

When he reached the table at which she sat he beamed at the three of them.

"It vos von beautiful song," he said.

He sat down and took a purse from his pocket which he put on the table. The three stared at it in surprise. He emptied it of its guineas and began to count them.

"It seems I much money haf," he said with a smile, and gathering up the money put it back in the purse, jingling it while he smiled at Mary.

Mary however was looking beyond him as though she was quite unaware of what he was doing.

Molly Lepel had begun to sing at the Princess's request; there was silence at the table while the Prince continued to look expectantly at Mary; and Mary stared stonily ahead.

The Prince came to the Princess's apartments where she was resting on her bed. He waved away her women and going to the bed kissed her.

"It is goot that you rest," he said. "And how are you, my tear?"

"Veil, but shall be glad when the child comes. It is long waiting."

"You always have the difficult time. You are certain you have the right time? You were wrong before, remember."

"I'm sure of it. Cowper and Clayton have been bothering me. And Mrs. Howard too."

The Prince looked shocked at the mention of Henrietta.

"Oh, they serve me veil. They think I should have the doctor instead of the midvife."

"Instead of the midvife! A man! You could not, Caroline."

"No, I could not. They say that in France royal ladies have accoucheurs instead of midvives. They say they have the skill ... and it is safer. But I shall have the midvife. I vould not vish for Sir David Hamilton to attend me."

"I should not vish either."

"I must scold these ladies."

"They do it for your good, but scold."

"I feel veil .. .very veil. And I vish to speak to you about the Prime Minister."

"Tell me."

"He vishes an audience. I believe he vould rather serve you than the King."

The Prince's eyes gleamed with pleasure.

"Of course you vill say ve must be careful," she said warn-ingly.

"Oh, ve must be careful."

"If the King hears that the Prime Minister talks business vith you he vill angry be. He vill come back from Hanover ... toutc dc suite.''

The Prince nodded; but there was triumph in his eyes.

"The weeks at Hampton have been so vunderful"

The Prince nodded.

"It has done me so much goot to see you. You have shown them what a King you vill be."

"And you a Queen."

She put her hands on her stomach. "Oh, I must bear the children.... That is for the vomen."

"But I vould always talk to you, Caroline. There is no von else I vould talk to as I do to you."

"You are so goot to me. Ve shall be careful with Townsend. Should ve send for him now? I vill dress and we can receive him in the Queen's gallery. Vould you give your consent to this?"

The Prince nodded eagerly.

"I believe the King is trying to make England declare war. Do you think that will be goot for England? Goot for Hanover yes, but vill it be goot for England? The people do not vant it. Do you think it would be goot for England to declare var vhile you are the guardian of the realm?"

"It would be bad. I vould not allow it."

"I thought you vould not. I vill summon my women and join you in the Queen's gallery. I vill have vord sent to Towns-end that he is to come there."

Caroline, in a long robe which did its best to disguise her advanced state of pregnancy, walked up and down the gallery between the Prince and the Prime Minister.

Townsend was saying: "The English will never willingly go to war for the sake of Hanover."

"They must never do so," replied the Prince.

"I am glad of Your Highness's support," replied Townsend, "for the Cabinet are of your opinion. It was against my advice that we sent a squadron to the Baltic. This was said to protect our trade but our trade was in no real need of protection. It was meant to protect Bremen and Verden ... for the sake of Hanover."

"Hanover must fight her own battles," said the Prince.

"The King does not think so."

"The King is von fool," retorted the Prince.

Both Caroline and the Prime Minister lowered their eyes.

"I repeat... von fool," went on George Augustus. "He must be to prefer Hanover to England. But then he is not English ... as I am..."

"As ve both are," added the Princess.

The Prince smiled across at her. "Yes, all things English ve love."

"There are new propositions from Hanover," said Towns-end. "I do not agree with them and I should like to know that I have Your Highness's support in refusing them."

"You have my support if it is for England's goot. I vould never put Hanover before England."

"Veil spoken," murmured Caroline; and again he smiled at her.

"Denmark offers Bremen and Verden to Hanover on the condition that England declares war on Sweden and pays to Denmark £150,000."

"And vat goot vill this bring to Englandt?" asked the Prince excitedly.

"No good to England, but Hanover will get Bremen and Verden, of course."

"And Englandt would be at var with Sveden and Russia," added Caroline quietly.

"It shall not be!" cried the Prince clenching his fist, while the veins at his temples became swollen.

"I am delighted to have Your Highness's support in this as I intend to place Stanhope's proposals before the Cabinet. I can assure you they will be rejected ... particularly in view of the fact that we have Your Highness's support."

The Prince was delighted. When the Prime Minister consulted him he was truly playing the King.

The golden September days were passing. Each day Caroline wondered whether there would be news of the King's return. But he stayed on in Hanover and left them free to enjoy the blessing of his absence.

To the Prince's great joy, Townsend, with whom he was now on excellent terms, suggested that he make a tour of the countryside. He had seen little of England, except during his journey from the coast to London on his arrival and the English liked to see their sovereigns.

Townsend was already talking to him as though he were the King and he was thinking of himself as such.

The Prince immediately began making his preparations.

"There is but von thing that grieves me," he said. "You, my tear, vill not come vith me."

"You vill manage very veil on your own," Caroline told him.

"It vould have been happier for me if I could have had my tear vife beside me."

"I shall be thinking of you ... all the time. And you see I am in no condition to come vith you."

"Take care of yourself. I vill give Mrs. Howard very special instructions."

"You need not. She is the best of vomen."

The Prince smiled at her gratefully. It seemed there was nothing to spoil his pleasure.

And what joy it was to travel through the countryside of Hampshire, Sussex and Kent where the people lined the roads to cheer him as he rode by and he told himself and his attendants that he would never tire of smiling for the English people.

To signal his approach bonfires were lighted all along his route and girls with flowers and leaves came out to dance in his path. At Portsmouth he was entertained at military as well as naval reviews. He went aboard the finest of the ships and guns were fired in his honour.

His eyes shining with sentiment, he told those who welcomed him that he had never been so happy in his life. He loved England; he loved the English people; he was English; he would not have it otherwise. Every drop of blood in his veins was English; he had inherited it through his grandmother.

He would never willingly leave England; the best and lovingest people in the world were the English.

He loved the English and the English loved him.

He was different from his dour old father, said the people; let that old fellow stay in Germany with his Maypole and Elephant, let him stuff himself with sausages and sauerkraut. His son was quite different. He was English, although he spoke with an atrocious German accent. He was one of them because he was determined to be.

So the bonfires were lighted; and the people sang and danced; and the theme of the day was "God Bless the Prince of Wales".

October was well advanced by the time he returned in triumph to Hampton. He found Caroline delighted to see him, eager to hear of his triumphs; but although she was more heavily pregnant than ever, there was no sign that her confinement was imminent.

Bothmer sat in his apartments writing to the King, to Bernstorff and to Robethon.

"The Prince," he wrote, "has become the King. The Prime Minister confers with him. Townsend has in fact become his man. His Highness has just returned to Hampton from a royal progress through Hampshire, Kent and Sussex. He is treated as the ruler of the realm."

Caroline was delighted and yet apprehensive. The more popular the Prince became the more determined the King would be to suppress him. Their only hope to go on living this delightful existence was for the King to discover that he loved Hanover so much he would stay there.

She believed there might be a faint possibility that he would. She prayed that it might come true. But while his father lived George Augustus could not be King. Still, to live as pleasantly as they had been living for this wonderful summer would be very delightful while they waited.

Yet as the days grew shorter her apprehension grew. There were no longer charming afternoons in the pavilion. The wind was too chilly. Walks had to be taken early in the afternoon if she was to be back in her apartments by dusk. It was not so exciting playing cards by candle-light as in the fresh air.

It cannot go on, of course, she thought sighing.

News came from Hanover which saddened her.

Leibniz had approached the King and begged leave to come to England and this had been curtly refused. Poor Leibniz! He had been unpopular enough in the past but he was more so now. Then he had merely been disliked as a man of intellect and a friend of the Princess's, when the King had considered her to be an unimportant woman whose only function was to bear children. Now he would know that she was not so stupid. Bothmer would have reported how Townsend had first approached her; and she would have her full share of the King's animosity.

Leibniz had not been wise to approach the King at such a time.

"The King has been so incensed by what was happening at home," she read, "that he could not endure to look on Leibniz who has always been a supporter of the Princess of Wales. He turned his back on him and in consequence of this action Leibniz had no alternative but to leave court."

Poor lonely old Leibniz, whose only fault was that he was loyal to his old pupil and that he was a man of wit and understanding! So he had gone to his home in Hanover and lived there. He had left Court for ever and he despaired of ever coming to England.

Caroline pictured him, thinking of all those talks he had had with the Electress Sophia when she had embued him with her love of a country neither of them had ever seen.

He was heartbroken—deprived of his work, deprived of his friends, despised because he had a good brain and liked to use it.

Could a man die of a broken heart? Perhaps, thought Caroline, for Leibniz had died in Leibnizhaus, his house in Han-ver, and had been buried quietly, for the King had had no wish that he should be remembered.

"He was buried," ran the letter, "more like a robber than an ornament to his country."

Dear Leibniz who had tutored her, who had reproved her, and who had loved her!

It was another link with the old life broken; and at the same time it was an evil augury for the future.

George was harsh to those he believed did not serve him well. So poor Leibniz had suffered.

How much more harsh he would be to those who had deliberately flouted him—his own son and daughter-in-law I What would happen when he returned? That was what Caroline wondered as she sat awaiting the first signs of her child's arrival on those rapidly shortening days.

The crimson-decked barge made its way slowly up the river. On the banks the people cheered while the Prince, his hand on his heart, bowed and smiled, and the Princess, who looked as though she might give birth at any moment, sat back, with smiles as gracious as those of the Prince. The young Princesses, Anne, Amelia and Caroline, were with their mother and there was a special cheer for them; and on the elaborately decorated barge it was possible to catch a glimpse of those rival beauties.

Molly Lepel and Mary Bellenden, and of Sophie Howes of whom many verses had been written, of Henrietta Howard, the Prince's mistress, who was on the best of terms with the Princess, and of other personalities of the Court.

If the last month had been a foretaste of what the future reign would be like the people certainly would not mourn the passing of George I.

Caroline was a little sad. She had wanted to lie in at Hampton but Townsend had warned her that the child she was going to bear could be an heir to the throne, and heirs to the throne were not born at Hampton. The last thing Caroline wanted to do was ignore English custom, so regretfully she gave up the idea of staying at Hampton, and she could not throw off this feeling of sadness because she knew that when she left the Thames-side mansion, with its scarlet-bricked walls and its magnificent state apartments, and most delightful of all its gardens with its fountains and flowers, its greens and pavilions, its wilderness and maze, she was leaving more than a country house. This was the end of a phase—the most delightful phase of her life.

Moreover she felt ill, for a few weeks before she had almost miscarried. She wanted children—many more—but the months of discomfort while she awaited their arrival were very trying.

So to London and St. James's, and soon she hoped her child would be born.

I shall feel better then, she promised herself. More ready to face the storm which will inevitably come when the King returns.

A week after the royal party had returned to St. James's Palace, on a dark November Sunday Caroline's pains started.

All through the day officials were arriving at the Palace and the Prince summoned certain members of the Cabinet that they might be present when the child was born.

The German midwife, who could speak no English, but whom the Prince had commanded to attend to his wife, was growing anxious. As the labour was going on and on and there was no sign of the child, Mrs. Clayton and Lady Cowper were apprehensive.

"This is no ordinary confinement," said Mrs. Clayton.

"The Princess's are always difficult," Lady Cowper reminded her, "and for that reason it is folly to leave her in the hands of this old German woman."

"An old country midwife!" agreed Mrs. Clayton. "We should call Sir David Hamilton."

"I will speak to the Princess," said the forthright Lady Cowper.

She went into the apartment where Caroline was walking up and down clearly in great pain. With her was the old German woman who was obviously very worried.

"Your Highness, would you allow me to send for Sir David Hamilton?" asked Lady Cowper.

Caroline stopped in her perambulations and stared at Lady Cowper.

"For vat reason?"

"Your Highness may have need of him. He is a trained accoucheur."

"I do not vish a man to be here at this time," said the Princess.

"Your Highness ..."

But Caroline had turned away, but as Lady Cowper went to the door she gripped the bedpost in a spasm of fresh agony. The midwife was shaking her head and letting out a stream of German.

"This is folly," said Lady Cowper; and went back to consult with Mrs. Clayton.

"But if the Princess will not have a man to attend her confinement, what can we do?"

All through Monday and Tuesday the Princess continued in labour. She lay on her bed exhausted and still the child could not be brought forth.

"This is madness!" said Lady Cowper. "She cannot go on like this. Her life is in danger."

The Princess's ladies waited in their apartment for news. terrified and tearful. Lady Cowper raged that she had never heard such folly. The Princess's life was in danger and the only one she would have to attend her was that old fool of a midwife.

Selecting one of the Princess's German attendants, the Countess of Biickeburg, Lady Cowper commanded that she go to the Prince and tell him that the Princess needed the expert attention of Sir David Hamilton and that he must be sent for without delay.

The Countess went to the Prince where he was waiting with his Council.

As he listened to her his face grew red with anger—and with fear.

How dared they suggest that all was not well. Life had become so good. He was treated as a King; he was popular; he had sliown himself to be a virile man. His wife was fruitful; he had a mistress. Very soon he would have another for Mary Bellendcn would not hold out much longer. Everything was well.

"Nonsense," he said. "The Princess's confinements are al-vays like this. Ve alvays think the child vill come earlier . . . it is alvays so. She is veil ... veil ... I tell you."

The Countess retreated in haste and when she reported back to Lady Cowper, the latter with Mrs. Clayton to support her, decided that something would have to be done.

They were certain that the Princess's life was in danger.

Lady Cowper went into the lying-in chamber and called to the midwife.

"What is happening?" she demanded in German.

The old woman raised her eyes to the ceiling. "It is a difficult confinement... very difficult."

"And you are not competent enough to deal with it ... you know it."

"I do my best."

"Admit you're afraid."

"It's a difficult confinement."

"Go to the Prince and tell him you can't manage ... tell him you need help. Ask that a trained accoucheur be sent."

"It is a difficult confinement. The Princess's confinements are always difficult."

"And you are incompetent. I tell you this ... if the Princess miscarries you will be hanged by the neck until you're dead."

The midwife screamed and ran into the ante-room which was thronged with many people who stared at the screaming woman, not understanding a word of what she was saying.

The Prince and Townsend came hurrying into the room followed by several of the ministers who had assembled for the birth.

"What is wrong?" demanded the Prince.

The midwife burst out that she wanted to go away. She could not proceed when the ladies had threatened to hang her.

"Vat is this! " cried the Prince, his face purple with rage.

The midwife cried that she would not go near the lying-in chamber, for if the Princess miscarried they were going to hang her. She had done no harm. Was it her fault that the Princess's labours were difficult?

"Who says they will hang you?" yelled the Prince.

"The ladies ... all the ladies of the Princess. They say they will blame me because I am here and it should be Sir David Hamilton. They say they will kill me..."

In the lying-in chamber the Princess was moaning in her agony.

"You must go to her," said the Prince.

"No ... no ... I dare not. They are going to hang me. I will not stay to be hanged."

"The Princess needs you," said the Prince. "Oh, we know her labours are always difficult. Go in now and attend her."

The midwife went on screaming that she dared not for they were going to hang her. They had said she should have Sir David ... and they were going to hang the poor midwife.

The Prince shouted at the top of his voice. "Of this meddling I am sick. If anyvon meddles more I throw him out of this vindow."

There was silence in the room; the Prince's wig was awry his face a choleric purple, his eyes blazing with hot anger.

Both he and the Princess had decided she should not have a man to attend her—trained accoucheur that he was. She should have the midwife, as Germans always had.

But the midwife was terrified. "They will hang me," she said.

Townsend took her by the arm. He could not speak German but he smiled at her reassuringly and tried to draw her towards the Princess's chamber. But she kept screaming that they were going to hang her.

Everyone gathered round her and began talking at once. German and English mingled; an effort was made to push the woman forward but she would only whimper that they were going to hang her.

A woman's voice was heard shouting above the noise.

"Will you come at once. The Princess is lying very still." There was a deep silence. Then the midwife forgot her fears. She ran into the lying-in chamber followed by the Prince and Townsend.

After five days of labour the Princess had at last given birth.

Her child—a boy—was born dead and she herself was critically ill.

Considering how near death she had been Caroline recovered quickly. Deeply she regretted that she had lost her child but she consoled herself that there would be others.

There was news from Hanover. The king was pleased with his grandson Frederick and had created him Duke of Gloucester.

All very well, thought Caroline, but when is he coming to England? Perhaps the boy would return with his grandfather. If that were so she might almost look forward to the King's return.

But whenever she thought of that—which could not now be far distant—she shivered with apprehension. What had been happening during his absence was almost an open declaration of war between them.

While she lay recovering from her ordeal Townsend came to see her.

The Prince was with her and as soon as the minister entered the apartment George Augustus dismissed their attendants, for both he and Caroline saw at once that something was wrong,

Townsend lost no time in telling them.

"I am dismissed from office," he said. "On the King's orders. Stanhope is now Prime Minister."

"Dismissed! " cried the Prince.

"Townsend nodded. "Bothmer has been reporting to Hanover. The King does not approve of our friendship. It was the last straw when I asked that you might have special powers to open Parliament since he was so long away."

The Prince was speechless.

Caroline lay back on her pillows and thought: The battle has begun.

The King was coming back to England, and the Christmas celebrations had been soured by this knowledge. It could not be long now. The days of glory were coming to an end.

The Prince, clinging to power as long as possible, strutted in the Park reviewing the troops. He made more public appearances than ever, bowing, smiling, showing the people how he loved them; and his popularity was at its height. One early morning when a fire broke out near the Palace he rose from his bed and helped to put it out. Not content with that he sent money to people who had lost their homes. Everyone was talking of his bravery and consideration for his father's subjects; when the news that the mad man who had tried to shoot him at Drury Lane had made an attack on his warders in Newgate, the story of his courage was recalled.

"This is truly the Guardian of the Realm," said one newspaper.

The Prince was pleased and more able to live in the present than Caroline, who now fully recovered in health awaited the return of the King with growing apprehension.

And one day at the end of January George I returned to England.

The Prince met him at Blackheath. When his coach came to a halt the Prince alighted and went to that of the King.

As a crowd had gathered to see the meeting the King could do nothing but alight.

They faced each other and embraced while the people cheered.

Then they got into the King's coach together as though they were the best of friends. But the Prince had caught the cold dislike in the eyes of his father.

They continued the journey to St. James's in stony silence.