The Prince and the Quakeress

‘The Butcher’s’ Disgrace

CUMBERLAND WAS COMING home to England… in disgrace. The King strode about his compartment, wig on one side, cheeks scarlet with rage.

‘Hanover!’ he moaned. ‘Hanover in the hands of the French! And he calls himself a son of mine. Was ever a father so cursed by his children? I thank God the Queen has not lived to see this day.’

Mr Pitt had called to see the King. Mr Pitt, the man who believed that England’s glory lay overseas. Here was a pretty state of affairs, a good beginning to Mr Pitt’s grand schemes. Hanover, the home of the Kings of England, the sacred spot, loved by this royal family as St James’s, Windsor, Hampton, Kensington had never been… and now it was in the hands of the French!

‘Mr Pitt, sir, you find me low… very low.’

‘Your Majesty is grieved by the loss of Hanover, I know.’

‘It is the home of my fathers, Mr Pitt. I was brought up in Hanover. As you know, I have never let long periods of time pass without visiting it.’

‘I know it well, Sire.’

‘I was happier at Hanover, Sir, than anywhere else in this world.’

‘Your Majesty’s subjects have been made aware of that fact.’

‘And now it is lost… lost by that fool of a son of mine. Why did I ever put him in charge of my armies… ?’

‘An old custom, Sire, to keep the plums of office in the family.’

‘Eh… eh, what’s that?’

‘Not always a wise one as Your Majesty is now perceiving, but is Your Majesty being entirely fair to His Royal Highness?’

The trouble with these geniuses, thought the King, was that they believed they had some prerogative to speak their minds. They gloried in it. They boasted of it. These honest men! The unpleasant truth was that a King could not do without them. Mr Pitt was such a one.

‘The puppy was caught asleep, I heard, at Hastenbecke… The French surrounded him and he would have been taken but for the prompt action of Colonel Amherst.’

‘One of the officers I recommended to Your Majesty, you will remember. Yes, he did good work. The Duke’s position was not a happy one at Hastenbecke, Sire, and I dareswear you knew that some compromise would have to be made. Bremen and Verden had to be saved and the troops brought out of danger. It was the loss of the duchies and all those men… or Hanover.’

‘Hanover,’ wailed the King. ‘It has a special place in my heart, Mr Pitt. I spent the first years of my marriage there, you will remember.’

Aye, thought Pitt, and courted Madame Walmoden there too, and sent the Queen accounts of your courtship in that delectable spot.

‘You will, then, understand my feelings.’

‘Indeed yes, Sire.’

‘So that is why I can’t wait to get my hands on that… puppy.’

‘Sire, Hanover is temporarily lost. It is a small electorate. I believe Your Majesty penned your signature to the orders which were sent to the Duke to sign the convention.’

‘I thought the Duke would make a stand.’

‘Against orders from home, Sire?’

‘The Duke calls himself a soldier, Mr Pitt. I had not thought he would lose Hanover. I believed that he would have fought to the last man to save Hanover.’

‘But, Sire…’

The King glared at his minister. ‘That was my belief, sir.’

Mr Pitt despaired. What could one do with a man who believed what he wanted to believe, who twisted the facts to suit his own taste. Bremen and Verden had had to be saved at the cost of Hanover… why did he not admit it? Because he could not face the fact that Hanover was lost, and that he had agreed to its loss. Why? Because he was sentimental about Hanover. Because there he had lived in the first days of his married life, because there he had courted Madame Walmoden.

Pitt despised the little man, but shrugged aside his duplicity. There were more important matters ahead than the assessing of a King’s character – which would doubtless prove not worth the trouble.

‘It is a small electorate, Sire,’ he repeated, ‘and there is Canada and America… needing our attention.’

Hanover lost! It was terrible. It was unthinkable. The King wept with emotion, thinking of the Alte Palais where he had lived in his boyhood; the old Leine Schloss where assassins had murdered his mother’s lover, the Count of Königsmarck, Herrenhausen where his grandmother had lived for so long and dreamed of becoming Queen of England. In the hands of the French!

I cannot bear to think of it, he mourned.

He had given his consent that it should be signed away. It was like betraying his family. He could imagine Caroline’s eyes regarding him sorrowfully. What would she have said could she have been here? He could hear his father’s voice cursing him in German.

George II of England who had lost Hanover to the French! He would not admit it… even here in the seclusion of his own apartments. It was not he who had lost it. It was that blockhead… Willie… who had been Caroline’s favourite son. Her Duke of Cumberland whom she had said so many times she wished had been the eldest of the family instead of Fred. They had agreed that Willie would have been the better King. Willie had been brought up in England; he spoke English like an Englishman. He had always wanted to be a soldier. Willie had been their darling as a child. So bright… so loving. Different from the canaille Fred – Caroline had declared. And now William was the one who had sold Hanover to the French. But the fault was William’s, for no one was going to blame him, the King.

He had already forgotten that he had agreed with his German Council to save Bremen, Verden and the armies. The English had known nothing of this. None of their business, snorted George. But Mr Pitt had known. Mr Pitt was one of those men who were aware of everything.

It was a false step. He saw that now. Willie should have fought. He should have ignored the instructions of the German Council backed by his father.

It was true that after his agreement with the Council the King had had his misgivings and had even drafted a letter to Willie telling him to fight to hold Hanover at all costs.

He rummaged in a drawer and found a draft of the letter. It had never been sent, but its existence seemed to exonerate him, since it was a command to the Duke of Cumberland to fight and hold Hanover.

‘I wrote that,’ cried the King triumphantly. ‘I told him to fight.’

The Princess Augusta was secretly delighted. ‘Hanover lost!’ she cried. ‘This is Cumberland’s doing.’

‘It will be interesting to see His Majesty’s reactions to Billy the Butcher now,’ replied Bubb Dodington who was often in her company and that of Lord Bute.

‘This is the son he would like to have seen King,’ added Bute.

‘Constantly comparing him with Fred,’ agreed Bubb. ‘I remember Fred could not stand the sight of him.’

‘And I don’t blame him. The Butcher! He would like to get our George under his wing.’

‘And teach him how to be a soldier, I don’t doubt,’ retorted Bute with a sneer.

‘And throw away his kingdom to the French,’ put in Augusta.

‘It strikes me,’ said Bubb, ‘that we’re well rid of the place. It was constantly draining the exchequer and was not much good to us.’ He shrugged and changed the subject. ‘The Prince seems to have grown up lately.’

‘Grown up!’ cried the Princess, alert. ‘What do you mean, sir?’

‘I thought I detected a change in His Highness. A certain dignity… which wasn’t there before. He seems to carry his head higher… Pleased with life and yet…’

‘And yet, sir?’

‘Well,’ said Bubb ‘he seems a little preoccupied with his thoughts.’

‘George never has any thoughts,’ said the Princess sharply. ‘At least, if he has any misgivings he would bring them at once to one of us.’

‘Then I daresay he has already told you of his… cares.’

‘He confided in us,’ said the Princess shortly.

‘In everything!’ added Bute.

When the Duke of Cumberland arrived at Court he was dumbfounded to find the cold reception which awaited him. He did not expect the welcome of a conquering hero naturally, but he had acted on orders and had obeyed the King’s command, although it was contrary to his own inclinations. He was no coward; he had never been one to withdraw from a battle, even when the cause was hopeless. And in this instance he believed there had been a chance.

Baron Munchausen, the Hanoverian Minister in England, was so incensed by the loss of Hanover that he wanted to call a council and have the Duke’s behaviour examined. He declared he had copies of the letters he had sent to the Duke. These would show that in surrendering Hanover the Duke had used his own initiative and that there had been no orders from St James’s to do so. But Mr Pitt – a man who had little friendship for the Duke – was the one to defend him. Hanover was temporarily lost, was Mr Pitt’s reasoning; the Duke had surrendered it on orders from London; there was no point in denying this just to save some people’s faces. The deed was done; Hanover was lost; the best way of dealing with the matter was to face up to the truth; and the truth was that the Duke had acted on orders; England had for the time being lost a small electorate of little account; and her prospects on the American continent were promising.

‘Bury the past and over its grave build up the future; in that way it will soon be forgotten there is grave there.’

But Baron Munchausen could only cry: ‘But this is Hanover!’

Mr Fox had known of the Duke of Cumberland’s arrival and had come in readiness to greet him. Fox and Pitt were of one mind on this matter. The Duke was being used as a scapegoat and they, being men of honour, were offering him their support. Pitt was against nepotism which he saw as the downfall of the army and therefore of the country, and was firmly opposed to the appointment of a commander because he was a King’s son; but Cumberland was a brave soldier, and he was being unfairly treated in this instance, albeit by his own father. Mr Fox agreed with him in this matter – so Fox was there to support the Duke.

Fox was a politician of brilliance, though he lacked Pitt’s eloquence; in fact he was a poor speaker, hesitant and unable to express himself with grace; but he had a sharp mind and was a match for any orator, even Pitt, by his calm reasoning powers. He never attempted to rely on rhetoric; reason was his weapon. He and Pitt admired each other; they were two ambitious men, tremendously envious of each other’s success; and Fox was more popular than Pitt, whose affectations irritated many. But they recognized the other’s talents and in this affair they stood eye to eye.

The Duke thanked Mr Fox for being at Kensington to meet him when he was informed of the reason why the minister had come.

‘I am well in mind and body,’ the Duke told him; ‘and I have written orders in my pocket for everything I did. And now, Mr Fox, you should take your leave as I do not wish it to be said that I have taken the advice of anyone on what I plan to do.’

Fox understood this and retired, but the Duke must have been extremely comforted to know that he had powerful men on his side.

The King hearing that his son was in Kensington Palace became more irascible than usual. He had to see the fellow, the fool who had lost Hanover. But in his heart he knew that the reason why William had not fought to save Hanover was because he had been commanded to give it up. George would not admit it. He could not face the fact that he was the King to have lost Hanover. It had to be someone else’s fault. Caroline had always shielded him. She had let him believe that suggestions were his when they were hers or Walpole’s. It had been such a comforting way of life. And here he was an old man… without Caroline – and Hanover lost.

‘A plague on them all,’ he muttered. He wanted to be young again… in Hanover, with Caroline his young wife. The happy days, he thought of them, letting memory skilfully paint them in bright colours for him. Caroline… Caroline… no woman worthy to… Amalia Walmoden was a wonderful woman… his Countess of Yarmouth… she would offer him some comfort for the loss of his Caroline.

But now there was this fellow… this Cumberland… this Willie come home… in disgrace. ‘Yes, sir, disgrace, I say. You lost Hanover… the home of our fathers… and you lost it.’

It was the only way he could bear to look at it. Though it had seemed the only alternative they had had to save Bremen and Verden. They had had to save the army. It was either that or Hanover.

‘Yes, yes… but I could not have lost Hanover, Caroline, could I? You would see that. Didn’t you always see everything.’

He looked at his watch. He was to go and play cards with the Princess Amelie, his daughter as he always did. If he did not hurry he would be late. Unthinkable. He was never late.

Amelie… Emily as they called her in the family… she was getting old now, and she was sour. She had wanted Grafton. It had caused her mother some concern the way Emily had run after Grafton. Perhaps they should have found a husband for her. It was difficult with Princesses… not much royalty left abroad and it had to be Protestant royalty, which limited the choice. Either that or someone at home. The girls ought to have been given Englishmen. Why not? That would have been better than letting them go unmarried and turn sour like Emily.

She greeted him with a show of affection when he reached her apartments. The cards were ready.

‘Come,’ he said, ‘let us play.’

‘We are ready, Father,’ Emily replied.

He said quietly: ‘Your brother is in the palace.’

‘I know, Father.’

‘He’ll be coming to cards tonight. Don’t leave me alone with him.’

‘No, Father.’

‘It’s an order.’

‘Yes, Your Majesty.’

The game began and when the Duke of Cumberland came into the room the King did not look up, but he was aware of him, for he muttered: ‘Here is my son who has ruined me and disgraced himself.’

The Duke of Cumberland was scarlet with mortification, but he could not approach his father unless given permission to do so and after that remark the King gave no sign that he was aware of him but stolidly went on playing cards. Nor could the Duke leave the assembly until the King rose and dismissed the company by his departure.

It was eleven o’clock and as soon as the King had left the card-room the Duke went at once to the apartments of the King’s mistress, the Countess of Yarmouth.

The Countess was an inoffensive woman whose main purpose was to please the King and keep her position; she made few demands on him and this was why she held her place. She was a little avaricious, but apart from trying to make money by selling honours she had few vices. She therefore received the Duke kindly for she was eager to help him, knowing that he had been unjustly accused.

‘Madam,’ said the Duke, ‘I have come to ask a favour of you.’

‘My dear Duke,’ she replied, ‘you know I will do everything in my power to help you.’

‘My father will listen to you. I want you to break this news to him as agreeably as possible that I am resigning my post as Captain-General and the command of my regiment.’

‘Oh no, you cannot. It is too much.’

‘In the circumstances, Madam, there is nothing else I can do.’

‘I pray you don’t make this decision so hastily. Give yourself time to think.’

‘Begging your pardon, Madam,’ he replied, ‘I have not come here to ask your advice, though it is kind of you to offer it. I merely wish you to pass on this news to the King in the manner less likely to disturb him.’

‘I wish to help… and since you ask me this… I can only do it. But I think perhaps you are over hasty.’

‘I have been falsely accused, Madam. I have no alternative but to resign.’

‘Then there is nothing I can do but obey your wishes.’

The King arrived at his mistress’s apartments at the appointed time.

He saw at once that she was distressed and that did not please him. He had come to her for comfort, not to be fretted. He frowned but she said: ‘I must tell Your-Majesty at once that the Duke of Cumberland has been to see me.’

‘The puppy!’

‘Sire, he is determined to resign his post. That is what he has asked me to tell you.’

The King’s face grew purple. ‘This will be a nice scandal. He must be stopped.’

‘He seemed determined,’ said the Countess, her face puckered with anxiety. ‘But Your Majesty has had a trying day. Should you not shelve the matter until you have… rested.’

The King looked at his watch. He did not intend to spoil this meeting with his mistress.

‘The puppy will have to be brought to heel,’ he said.

‘I am sure Your Majesty will soon have him where you wish him to be.’

This was her most attractive quality: she always made him feel a wise and great man. In fact he felt more comfortable with her than he had with Caroline, although he would not admit that now.

‘I’ll deal with him,’ he said; and shelved the matter as she had hoped he would.

What a soothing, tender creature she was. He was lucky to have found her!

The King wanted no trouble. He demanded that ‘secret papers’ be brought to him and he feigned to study them. He then announced that he thought better of the Duke of Cumberland than he had, and he believed that there was no need to continue with this farce of a resignation.

But the Duke was determined. He would treat his father with the respect due to a King, for he was a royalist by nature; and having seen the ill effects of quarrels on the royal family’s prestige he did not want to add to that.

He had nevertheless made up his mind that he could no longer talce a command in an army in which he was obliged to obey the orders from the Council and his father, and then take the blame when they were unsuccessful.

He had been deeply wounded; he saw only one course of action open to him: resignation; and nothing was going to prevent his taking it.

The Duke of Cumberland had resigned. The hero-villain of Culloden was no longer in command of the army.

His passion in life had been the army and now he was no longer of it. The action of his father had made it impossible for him to retain his position. But this was no family quarrel. The Duke robbed of his position, of his career through the action of his father, continued to pay him the utmost homage in public.

He now turned appealingly to his nephew. He hoped that the Prince of Wales would allow him to bestow on him that affection which he yearned to give.

The Princess and Lord Bute told themselves that they must watch the Duke of Cumberland.