The Regent's Daughter

Night flight

CHARLOTTE WAITED FOR the storm to break.

There was only one thing to do. She wrote to Mercer begging her to come to Warwick House will all speed. She needed her now as never before.

Mercer arrived and when she came it was to find that the Prince whom Mercer knew through Charlotte’s letters as F was with the Princess.

‘Alone!’ cried Mercer, shocked.

Cornelia admitted that this was so.

‘But this is madness,’ said Mercer coolly. ‘For heaven’s sake go in and put a stop to this.’

‘I dare not,’ said Cornelia. ‘The Princess has changed lately. She would be very angry and she does not listen to me as she used to.’

Mercer looked at Cornelia in surprise. What had happened to the strong-minded woman whom she had grudgingly admired and made her ally?

She herself strode into the room and broke up the tête-à-tête.

It was not difficult, for at the sight of her friend Charlotte gave a cry of joy and flung herself into Mercer’s arms.

‘Thank God you have come, Mercer,’ she cried; and for a few moments she even forgot F in the joy of having her friend with her.

Mercer took charge. Had Charlotte written to her father? Charlotte explained that she had thought William would have done so; but apparently William had not.

‘You must write to your father without delay,’ said Mercer. ‘You must tell him that you have broken the engagement. We will compose the letter immediately and send it to him.’

Charlotte obeyed as always and when the letter was written she felt so frightened that the pain in her knee was almost unbearable and on Mercer’s suggestion she went to bed.

The Regent would be reading the letter now! she thought. It would only take a very short time to deliver it, as Warwick House was next door to Carlton House and if he were at home it would be in his hands now.

Several days passed during which Charlotte found the suspense intolerable.

The foreign visitors left England. The Duchess of Oldenburg – slyly delighted at the thought of the impending storm which she had helped to raise – took a fond farewell of Charlotte and wished her all happiness in the future.

F was leaving with the Russian party. He came to see Charlotte but Mercer would not allow a private tête-à-tête, insisting that Cornelia be present.

F was not entirely sorry to go; he knew that trouble was imminent and he was not sure that the life of a Prince Consort was one which would suit him; he liked to roam the world in search of romance; he could see how stultifying to a man of his temperament marriage – even such a brilliant one – would be. Moreover, Charlotte’s naïveté was delightful, up to a point; he preferred the cultured company of Madame Récamier. But he was automatically ardent. Charlotte did not know it but it was a habit of his with the woman of the moment and his great success was due, as he was well aware, to his ability while he was with a woman, to make her feel that she was the only person in the world of any consequence to him. Whereas F, being a realist, admitted to himself that the only person of any consequence in the world to him was F himself.

‘You will write to me,’ said the young Princess.

‘Nothing will prevent me.’

‘Cornelia will arrange that your letters reach me and mine reach you.’

Cornelia swore that she would do so; and on that guarantee the lovers parted.

A few days passed. It was Mercer’s opinion that the Regent had been waiting for the departure of the visitors, whom he had accompanied to Dover with great pomp and ceremony, before allowing the storm to break. He would not want to have his visitors laughing at his domestic troubles behind his back.

‘It’ll come now,’ said Mercer; and as usual, Mercer was right.

The Prince Regent commanded his daughter Charlotte to come to Carlton House in the company of Miss Knight.

Charlotte, pale and trembling, rose from her bed and immediately collapsed into the arms of Louisa Lewis.

‘It’s my knee, Louisa. I can’t stand.’

Mercer was called. ‘You must write at once to your father and tell him that you are too ill to go to him and beg him to come to you.’

The letter was sent and a day of anxiety followed. Charlotte got up and found that she could walk more easily.

It would be better to face him standing up than lying down.

At six o’clock in the evening the Regent arrived accompanied by the Bishop of Salisbury. He ignored everyone and strode into the drawing room. Then he cried in a voice of thunder: ‘Pray tell the Princess Charlotte that I command her presence here without delay.’

Cornelia, trembling, turned to Mercer who stood whitefaced though calm.

‘What can I do, Mercer?’ implored Charlotte.

‘There is only one thing you can do,’ said the intrepid Mercer. ‘Go down and see him. He commanded you to go in any case, and you must go quickly for his mood will not be improved by delays.’

‘Oh, Mercer …’

‘If you stand by your decision, he cannot force you. Remember that.’

Charlotte turned away and went into the drawing room.

He was standing by the fireplace, his back to it, his arms folded behind as though warming himself although there was no fire on that hot July day. The Bishop of Salisbury stood by, self-righteous, resigned, firm ally of his Regent, prepared to support him in whatever action he decided to take against his recalcitrant daughter.

Charlotte looked imploringly at her father, but his expression was cold and it was clear that at this moment he hated her.

He took first the familiar self-pitying role. ‘What have I done to be treated in this way?’ he demanded plaintively. ‘Have I deserved such an ungrateful child?’

The Bishop gave a sympathetic little cough but Charlotte wanted to shout: Yes, you have. You have never loved me as I wanted to be loved … as I needed to be loved. If you had, everything would have been different.

But she was silent.

He went on pitying himself for a few moments and then his anger flared up. ‘You have broken off this marriage … without consulting me. You have decided that a match, to which I and my ministers have given much thought, much consideration … and all for your good, your personal benefit … is to be broken off in this churlish fashion. I do not understand how a daughter of mine can behave in such a way.’

And on and on. She was not listening to the words; she was watching the expressions fleeting across his face. He is acting, she thought; he always acts. He does not know it but he has been acting all his life. He is listening to his own voice now, admiring it. In a moment he will weep. He will be Lear weeping for a daughter’s ingratitude. If only one could explain to him. But how could one? He never saw anyone clearly. He only saw the Prince Regent as he wished to see him and people were good or bad according to their behaviour towards him.

If she remembered this she could be defiant. She could tell herself that she no longer cared for his esteem, that she hated him.

I have my mother, she thought. She loves me. And the thought sustained her.

‘You and your household have consistently gone against my wishes,’ he was saying. ‘I am going to put a stop to that. Your household here is to be dismissed and you are to leave Warwick House.’

‘W … when?’ she stammered.

‘This very night. You will come tonight to Carlton House and stay there until you move to Cranbourne Lodge.’

‘C … Cranbourne Lodge!’

‘Pray do not repeat me in that stuttering fashion. It offends me. I have a new household for you and you will shortly be introduced to them. They will serve you at Cranbourne Lodge.’

Cranbourne Lodge, she thought. In Windsor Park. She would leave London. The Queen and the Old Girls would be at Windsor and she would have to be constantly in their company. And Cornelia … was Cornelia dismissed? How then was she going to keep up her correspondence with F?

‘I must ask you …’

‘You must ask nothing. You must merely obey. Very shortly your new household will be arriving here to meet you. In the meantime go and tell your women that you are leaving Warwick House for Carlton House tonight – and tell Miss Knight to come to me here.’

She stumbled out of the room.

She found Cornelia alone in her room in a state of great apprehension.

‘It is terrible,’ she cried. ‘There is to be a new household. You are to go at him at once.’

‘Miss Knight.’ The Regent looked at her with such coldness that she began to shiver.

‘Your Highness.’

‘I am sorry, Miss Knight, to put you to inconvenience, but I’m afraid I must ask you to leave Warwick House without delay.’

‘Tonight, Your Highness?’

‘Tonight. Your room will be needed for one of the ladies of the Princess’s new household. I must inform you that the Princess Charlotte is leaving tonight for Carlton House where she will spend a few days before travelling down to Cranbourne Lodge in Windsor Park with her new household.’

‘New household, Sir, but …’

‘With her new household,’ repeated the Prince, painfully surprised that Miss Knight should interrupt him. ‘I think it will be better for all concerned if the Princess is not allowed so much freedom. The Queen will be at Windsor and for a time I wish her to be the only visitor whom Charlotte will receive. The Countess of Ilchester will be at the head of the new household and she will be assisted by Lady Rosslyn and Mrs Campbell. Now, Miss Knight, I repeat I am distressed to have to put a lady to inconvenience but I shall need your room and no doubt you will have a few preparations to make before you leave Warwick House this evening.’

‘Sir,’ cried Miss Knight, ‘I beg of you tell me in what way I have failed?’

‘I am making no complaints, Miss Knight,’ he replied, ‘but I wish to make changes in my daughter’s household. You will agree that if I so wish it is a matter for me to decide without explanations. I should blame myself if I allowed the situation now existing at Warwick House to continue. Now I think there is no more to be said. If you have nowhere to go tonight, you may have a room at Carlton House.’

‘I fear, sir,’ said Miss Knight, ‘that that might put you to some inconvenience. My father served His Majesty the King for thirty years; he lost a fortune in that service and his health suffered considerably. It would be extraordinary if I could not put myself to a little inconvenience for the sake of my Sovereign.’

‘Very well, Miss Knight. You may leave us now.’

She curtsied and left the room.

This is the end, she thought. I have lost Charlotte now.

She would go to her; she would summon Mercer; they would discuss this and make some plan before she left Warwick House.

She ran to Charlotte’s room.

‘Where is the Princess?’ she demanded of a whitefaced, scared Louisa.

‘I don’t know. I saw her rushing out of the room like a mad thing. She put on a bonnet and shawl and sped past me.’

‘She can’t have left Warwick House.’ Cornelia felt as though her knees would not support her. ‘Where is Miss Elphinstone? Pray ask her to come to me at once.’

Mercer arrived. ‘What has happened? Is Charlotte still with her father?’

‘No, and we don’t know where she is. She put on a bonnet and shawl and ran out. She can’t have gone into the streets.’

‘I think I know where she has gone,’ said Mercer. ‘She has mentioned it often. She has been saying for the last few days that if her father were unkind to her or tried to force her to anything, she would go to her mother.’

‘She wouldn’t!’

‘In her present mood she would do anything.’

Mercer ran down the stairs summoning the servants. Had any of them seen the Princess?

They had seen someone in a bonnet and shawl running out of the house, someone who looked like the Princess Charlotte but clearly could not be.

And where did she go? Out of the house, into the streets!

‘Someone,’ said Mercer, ‘will have to tell the Regent.’

The Regent was talking to the Bishop when Mercer, with Cornelia, begged leave to enter. It was graciously given.

‘Your Highness,’ said Mercer, ‘I fear the Princess has left the house.’

‘Left?’ said the Regent. ‘Where can she have gone?’

‘I fear to her mother, Sir.’

The Regent smiled. ‘Then, of course, the world will know the type of person she is. No one will marry her now. She has ruined her reputation.’

There were tears in Mercer’s eyes. ‘I trust Your Highness does not blame me for this.’

His manners would not allow him to be unmoved by a lady’s tears so he said gently: ‘I am making no complaints, as I told Miss Knight. I have merely decided to act.’

The Bishop said: ‘Is it Your Highness’s wish that I and Miss Elphinstone should follow the Princess?’

‘It might be a wise thing to do.’

‘Perhaps Miss Knight would accompany us,’ suggested Mercer.

Miss Knight, fearing that she was at any moment going to disgrace herself by bursting into tears, could only think of placating the Regent. ‘I could not bear to enter that house.’ she said with a shudder.

The Prince Regent was looking a trifle bored. He said: ‘You must do what you will. I am due at a card party at the Duke of York’s.’

With that he left them. They stood bemused, listening to the sound of his carriage wheels as they faded into silence.

When Charlotte snatched up her shawl and bonnet there was one thought in her mind: she must go to her mother. There she would find refuge. She would wait to consult no one … not even Mercer. She must delay not one second for if she did it might be too late. Only her mother could save her from … prison, for that was what it would be. Cranbourne Lodge would be far worse than anything that had happened before. She had defied her father and she was sure that he would never allow that to happen again, if he could help it. But her mother would protect her. She ought to have gone to her long before.

She ran out into the street where she had never been alone before. What did people do when they wanted to get from one place to another? They took a hackney coach and there was one coming towards her now.

‘Stop!’ she cried. ‘Stop!’

The whip was held up to denote that the coach was free and a whiskered face was close to hers.

‘Hop in, lady, and where do you want to go?’

‘To Connaught House. Do you know the way?’

‘Connaught House. That’s the Princess of Wales’s place, that is. That’s where you want to go, is it?’

‘Oh, yes, please, and quickly. Can you hurry?’

‘Anything to please a lady.’

Up the Haymarket and on to Oxford Street. Charlotte looked out on the passing scene. What was happening now at Warwick House? What was her father saying? Had he discovered her flight? There would be storms. But never mind, she would be with her mother and she would not leave her. They would live together and have the people on their side.

‘Connaught House, lady.’

And praise to God, there she was.

What did one do? Pay the man? She had no money.

‘Wait a moment,’ she cried imperiously. One of the doormen was gaping at her.

‘Your Royal Highness …’

‘Blimey!’ said Mr Higgins the hackney coachman.

‘Pray give this man three guineas,’ said the Princess. ‘He has driven me here and deserves it.’

What an adventure! thought Mr Higgins. He would talk of this night for the rest of his life. And three guineas! She was a real princess, this one.

Charlotte went into Connaught House. ‘Pray take me to the Princess of Wales at once,’ she said.

‘Your Highness, the Princess left an hour ago for Blackheath.’

‘Then let someone ride there immediately and tell her that I am here. It is a matter of the utmost importance.’

A messenger was hastily despatched.

Mr Higgins was not the only one who believed this was going to be a night to remember.

The groom who had been despatched to Blackheath caught up with the Princess of Wales in her carriage, accompanied by Lady Charlotte Lindsay on the way to Blackheath.

She put her head out of the window and asked what brought him.

‘Madam,’ she was told, ‘the Princess Charlotte has run away from Warwick House and is at Connaught House. She has come to you for protection, she says. She sent me off immediately to tell you so and to beg you to return.’

The Princess of Wales chuckled.

‘Well, this will cause a bit of excitement in some quarters, I know,’ she said to Lady Charlotte. ‘Turn the horses,’ she commanded. ‘We’re galloping back to London with all speed.’

On the way she said: ‘We’d better have Brougham and Whitbread. Oh yes, we’d better have this done in the right manner. I’ll swear he’s champing with rage. So she has run away from him to me! It’s the best thing that’s happened for a long time.

‘Call at Mr Brougham’s house,’ she shouted, ‘and after that at Mr Whitbread’s.’

She was laughing softly as she lay back against the upholstery.

Mercer was the first to arrive at Connaught House. When Charlotte saw her she went to her and embraced her.

‘My dearest Mercer, I knew you’d come. I won’t go back. I am going to live with my mother from now on. I should have done it years ago. She loves me. She wants me. He never did.’

‘The Bishop is downstairs,’ said Mercer. ‘We came together. It was not very wise of you to run out like that.’

‘It was the only thing I could think to do. I feared that if I stayed it would be too late. He was there … with the old Bishop ready to carry me off to prison. I would never have been allowed to come to my mother.’

‘Where is your mother?’

‘She had left for Blackheath. She will soon be with me for she was not very far on the road and I sent a groom galloping after her. I am sure she will be here soon.’

‘She may feel embarrassed because you have run to her.’

Charlotte laughed a little hysterically. ‘My mother never feels embarrassed.’

‘We must wait and see what she has to say … when she comes … if she comes,’ said Mercer.

‘If she comes! Of course she will come. She would never desert me. I can’t think why I didn’t see it before. I should have run away long ago.’

Mercer looked dubious and for once Charlotte did not believe her friend was entirely with her.

‘You saw my father?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘And he is very angry. Mercer, you are not on his side?’

‘Sides?’ said Mercer. ‘Why should it be a matter of taking sides? While I think you were right to refuse Orange, I do not think you should have run away.’

Charlotte was crestfallen. Could it possibly be that Mercer was afraid of offending the Regent?

There was the sound of carriage wheels below. Charlotte had run to her window. The guttural penetrating tones of the Princess of Wales could be heard below.

Charlotte turned to Mercer triumphantly. ‘She’s come. She turned back immediately. I knew she would.’

She ran to the door. The Princess of Wales was coming up the stairs.

‘Where is Charlotte? Where is my daughter?’

‘Here, Mamma.’

The Princess Caroline opened her arms with a dramatic gesture and Charlotte threw herself into them.

‘So my angel came to her Mamma! Bless you, my precious daughter. And what is he going to do about this, eh?’

The embrace was suffocating; but it was what Charlotte needed. Reassurance. Security. At last she had come home.

‘Travelling makes me hungry. It’s dinner time. We’d better eat, my love. I’ve an idea we may have company tonight. Now, Lindsay, love, give the orders. Tell them that I’m back … if they don’t know it. Tell them that I’ve got a very important guest and I can’t let her starve.’

Charlotte began to laugh. ‘Oh, Mamma, it is so good to be with you.’

All this time, she thought, I have tried to love him when she was waiting to love me. It had had to be a matter of taking sides and now she had taken hers.

Dinner was served in the dining room. Caroline was in good spirits; she kept bursting into laughter, imagining the scenes that must be going on around the Regent.

She laughed hilariously and Charlotte, in a state of near hysteria, joined in. Mercer was cool and seemed remote. She was not so happy with the situation as Charlotte was.

When they were half way through dinner the carriages began to arrive. The Duke of Sussex was the first to come. He had not seen Caroline since the Delicate Investigation in which he had played a part, but they greeted each other affectionately. Charlotte was immediately aware of his dismay.

‘You shouldn’t have run away,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t wise.’

‘Should I have stayed to be a prisoner?’

‘You should have stayed,’ he told her.

‘I hope,’ said Charlotte, ‘that some of you are going to be on my side.’

‘We are on your side,’ he assured her.

‘Yes,’ she said bluntly, ‘and on my father’s at the same time.’

But there was her mother. She could rely on her.

Lord Eldon arrived. That coal heaver! thought Charlotte. Trust him to come. He would do all in his power to humiliate her.

Dinner was over and no one seemed to be quite so merry as they had before. People kept arriving and each one whispered to Charlotte that he wanted to help her but he feared she had acted rashly. The best thing was to return to Carlton House and then try to come to some agreement with her father.

To all this she replied: ‘No. I shall stay with my mother.’

Caroline whispered to her: ‘Brougham and Whitbread will be here soon. I called at their houses on my way but they weren’t at home. I left messages for them to come at once. They’ll be here soon.’

She was right. They arrived in due course and they both looked grave. Surely they were not going to tell her that she ought not to have come!

Miss Knight arrived – unlike herself and tearful. What had happened to Cornelia? Charlotte had thought she would be calm and precise in any circumstances, but it seemed that the Regent had the power to change people; he had certainly changed Cornelia.

‘I have brought Louisa Lewis with Your Highness’s night things,’ she said.

The Duke of York, who had since arrived, not very pleased to have been called from his card party, but kind and gentle with his niece as always, retorted: ‘Night things! Charlotte cannot stay here. My dear niece, you must not spend a night other than under your own roof or that of your father.’

‘I am happy to be under that of my mother,’ retorted Charlotte.

So many people had now come to Connaught House that it was like the gathering before a conference. It was growing late, being past midnight, and they went on talking together and coming to her one by one and telling her that she must either go back to Warwick House or to Carlton House.

‘Mercer,’ she whispered, ‘you understand.’

‘Yes,’ said Mercer, ‘I understand, but they are right. You should never have come.’

‘Why not? My mother wants me. Why should a daughter not be with her mother? Because he hates her that does not mean that I must. Where is Brougham? He is the only one who is not afraid of my father.’

Hearing his name he was at her side.

‘Mr Brougham,’ she said, ‘tell these people that I must stay here.’

He shook his head. Even he! She wanted to burst into tears.

‘Your Highness should not spend a night anywhere but under your own roof.’

‘But this is my mother’s house.’

‘You should not stay here.’

‘So you are against me, too?’

‘It is precisely because I am for you that I say this.’

‘Please, listen to me.’ She began to cry weakly. She was tired; she was frightened, too. At dinner it had seemed so different; with her mother laughing beside her she had believed that she had escaped and that they were going to be together from then on. But her mother was not beside her now. She was yawning in a corner, her wig awry, her paint beginning to run.

Charlotte felt frightened and alone but she clung to her resolution. ‘I won’t go. I will stay here. My place is with my mother.’

Brougham said: ‘Come to the window. It’s nearly two o’clock. It’ll be dawn soon.’

‘And this fearful night will be over.’

‘Your Highness, soon the streets and the Park will be full of people. They will learn that you are here, that you have run away from your father to come to your mother.’

‘Do you think they will be surprised? And why shouldn’t they know the truth?’

‘It could mean riots, bloodshed. They would attack Carlton House. It needs only a little thing like this to ignite the bonfire. Are you going to be the one to do this? You would never forgive yourself if you brought about such conflict.’

She was silent, looking out on the darkness of the streets and the Park.

‘If you return to Carlton House now, this need go no further.’

‘It means I … I accept what he has planned for me.’

‘You can refuse Orange.’

‘He will make me his prisoner and you will then tell me that I must take Orange or there will be bloodshed.’

‘I will never tell you that. In fact you can sign a statement now to the effect that if you ever marry Orange it will be against your will. If I have that paper in my possession to show the people, you may rest assured that they will never allow you to be forced into marriage. You have nothing to lose now by going back. You have escaped Orange. The victory is yours and believe me that is the only one which is of importance.’

‘I want to live with my mother.’

‘You cannot do that.’

‘Why not? She wants me to be with her and I with her. She is my mother. Why should we be parted?’

Brougham hesitated. Then he said: ‘Your mother would not want you to live with her now. It would mean cancelling her plans to go abroad.’

‘Cancelling her plans …’

‘You did not know that she is leaving this country shortly? The Regent has given his permission; he has increased her allowance. Nothing would change her mind now, I am sure.’

‘But this will change her mind. I will change her mind.’

‘Speak to her,’ said Brougham. ‘Speak to her now.’

Charlotte went to her mother.

‘Mamma,’ she said, ‘there is something I must say to you. Brougham has just told me that you are planning to leave England.’

‘Yes, my love.’

‘But now that I am going to live with you …’

Caroline’s eyes were evasive. How could Charlotte live with her … abroad.

‘Now, Mamma,’ Charlotte pleaded, ‘you will not go, of course.’

‘It is all arranged, my pet. We will write to each other … every day. Perhaps we can arrange a visit for you …’

Oh God, thought Charlotte, she doesn’t care.

Brougham was at her side.

‘It will soon be light,’ he said. ‘I think Your Highness should delay no longer.’

She stood up; her eyes were very bright. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I will go now. But I insist on travelling in one of my father’s carriages. To do otherwise might be harmful to my reputation.’

‘Your Highness shows great wisdom,’ said Brougham. He kissed her hand. ‘It shall be my pleasure and my duty to serve you with all my heart now and in the future.’

Charlotte felt limp and listless. She would go back to prison. She saw now that it had been a mistake to leave it.

The strange adventure was over.