The Regent's Daughter

The arrival of Mercer

THE CARRIAGE RATTLED along through the streets. In it sat Charlotte, simply dressed in a dark-green cloak and straw hat trimmed with rosebuds; she might have been any well-bred young lady taking a drive.

Beside her was Lady de Clifford, whose lips were a little pursed. She heartily disliked these excursions and believed they were bad for the Princess. But she agreed that something had to be done and perhaps it was better for Charlotte to go to Spring Gardens than to Blackheath. However, the King had given his permission, so there was no more to be said. Charlotte was going to pay her weekly visit to her grandmother, the Duchess of Brunswick; she would spend two hours there and during those two hours she would meet her mother.

The Princess herself looked forward to the visits; although she felt little affection for her grandmother, a silly old woman who chattered incessantly, she was excited by her mother. As for the Princess Caroline, she was in a state of hysterical joy to be reunited with her daughter.

It’s all a little unhealthy, thought Lady de Clifford.

New Street, Spring Gardens! What a residence for a princess. And one must remember that the Duchess of Brunswick had once been the Princess Royal of England.

But her dignity turned the dingy old house into a palace. She received there and expected all the homage due to her rank. Poor thing, thought Lady de Clifford, I doubt she had much of that in Brunswick, by all accounts.

The carriage drew up and Charlotte and her governess alighted. Few people noticed them, but of course once the papers began letting the people know that Charlotte visited her grandmother once a week and there met her mother, there might be crowds to see her. Lady de Clifford shuddered. The mob was so crude. They shouted such things … not fit for the ears of a young girl.

Charlotte’s heart beat fast as she entered the gloomy house. Poor Grandmamma Brunswick had few servants but she made the most of what she had. And her footman bowed as low and with as much dignity as if he were ushering her into Carlton House or St James’s.

But the Princess of Wales was noted for her contempt of ceremony. She was waiting in the lower room for her daughter and as soon as she saw her she flew at her.

Charlotte was aware of a highly coloured face, rouged and daubed with white lead; the Princess’s heavy brows owed their existence to paint and her enormous black curly wig always became a little awry in these emotional encounters. Her low-cut gown exposed a large white bosom which seemed to overbalance her short body and give her a pear-shaped look. She never appeared to be freshly clean, but the great charm about her was the warmth of her love for her daughter.

‘My darling, darling, darling!’ she cried. ‘My little Charlotte! Let me look at you.’ Charlotte was strained to that great bosom which was not exactly the best position for being seen. ‘It has seemed so long. And they give us two hours … It is wicked and it is cruel. Torture designed by de old Begum, I’ll swear.’

She laughed wildly.

‘Oh, Mamma,’ said Charlotte, ‘I am so happy to see you again. I’ve missed you so much.’

‘My angel! My blessed love! My Lottie love!’ The embrace was suffocating. ‘And what do you think I have suffered, eh? Kept from my own baby … my little Lottie girl. Ah, I always longed for a child and when I had one they took her away from me.’

‘We’re together now, Mamma, for two hours.’

Caroline grimaced and put up a hand. Charlotte noticed the flashing rings, which looked incongruous because of the grime under the nails. Her mother was the strangest and most eccentric person she had ever known.

‘They had to agree to this. Oh, the wicked old things! They tried to prove Willie was my boy and they couldn’t … they couldn’t!’

Nobody had ever been so frank with Charlotte as her mother was. Caroline did not believe in hiding facts and Charlotte was nearly twelve years old … old enough to know what went on in the world.

‘And how is Willie?’ asked Charlotte.

‘Willikins is adorable. What I should do without that angel I can’t tell you. Do you know this, my love, if I could have you with me and Willikins too, I’d ask nothing more.’

‘If only that were possible!’ sighed Charlotte.

‘But you are going to be a queen one day. Nothing is going to alter that. My little Charlotte … Queen of England. Then you won’t keep your poor old Mamma in the background, will you?’

‘I would always have you with me.’

‘My blessed angel! And soon we shall have done with this two hours a week. It is ridiculous. Why only two hours a week? I shall not accept it. One of these days I shall come and carry you away by force and we will live at Montague House happy ever after.’

But in spite of these protestations of affection Charlotte did feel unsure about her mother. What had really happened about that horrid little brat Willikins? She remembered him, from the days when she had been allowed to visit Montague House, as a hideously spoiled child whom her mother doted on and who kicked with rage when he couldn’t have his own way.

She would not have wanted to live at Montague House; one was never quite sure what was going to happen there. There were so many strange people coming and going and the wild games they played at parties, while exciting for a time, left one bewildered. Perhaps she had been too young in the old days when she used to visit Blackheath to understand what it was all about. Now it would be different. She was almost grown up. And it seemed to her now that although she was fascinated by Montague House she would not all the time have wanted the kind of life which was lived there.

In her heart she longed for a quiet dignified household like that in Tilney Street.

‘I suppose,’ said the Princess of Wales, with a grimace, ‘that we shall have to present ourselves to Madam the Duchess.’

She spoke ironically. Was that the way in which one should speak of one’s mother?

So they went to the dingy room where the Duchess of Brunswick held her Drawing Room. It was pathetic. This was no palace – just a room in a dingy old house. She had two attendants but she behaved as though she had a retinue.

She sat in an old chair as though it were a throne and she glanced haughtily about her as the attendant at the door called: ‘Her Highness the Princess of Wales and the Princess Charlotte.’

The Duchess of Brunswick peered at her granddaughter.

‘Come and sit near me, Charlotte,’ she said. She added, waving a hand: ‘Chairs for the Princesses.’

These were brought. The Princess of Wales sat down, legs apart, a hand on either knee, in exactly the manner Charlotte had often been told princesses should not sit.

Charlotte looked round the room. She thought it was one of the dirtiest she had ever seen and there was scarcely any furniture. She felt sorry for the old lady who was trying to cling to her royalty in such surroundings and she was angry too when she thought of all the apartments which could have been put at her disposal. There was Kensington Palace, Windsor, Buckingham House, Kew, even St James’s. It was a shame.

‘Grandmamma,’ she said impulsively, ‘You should not be here. You should have a fine apartment.’

‘My dear Charlotte, I am an exile. I must perforce take what is given me.’

‘But it’s a … shame.’

‘It’s de old Begum’s doing,’ said Caroline with a short laugh. ‘She hates us all, and she’s glad to think of an old enemy living in such a place.’

What a wicked old woman the Queen was! thought Charlotte. How could she behave so to her own sister-in-law?

The Duchess suddenly became rather tearful. ‘I had expected something different, Charlotte, my dear, I will confess. Once I was a very important lady of this land. The Princess Royal, and my brother doted on me. That’s the King, you know. This is not his fault. Poor man, I always said he had a kind heart though an addled head. He would have done better than this. But he’s in a sad state, poor George. It was a shock to me when I saw him. He goes on and on and on … and one has no idea what he’s talking about.’

‘“Eh, what?”’ mimicked the Princess of Wales. ‘But he’s a kind man and when I first came over I wished I’d come to marry him instead of the Prince of Wales. Then it would have been a different story, I can tell you. He had rather a fancy for me. Charlotte, my pet, you would have had six or seven brothers and sisters by now if I’d married dear addle-headed George!’

‘You were always so indiscreet,’ said the Duchess, becoming suddenly haughty. ‘Restrain yourself, Caroline.’ She turned to her granddaughter. ‘Your mother caused us great anxiety in her childhood. She was so wild. I could tell you things. Perhaps I will one day. They used to say I was indiscreet. Madam de Hertzfeldt … she was my husband’s mistress … was installed when I arrived. “I have no intention of giving up my mistress because I have acquired a wife,” he told me. How would you have liked that?’

‘Charlotte would have loved him,’ said the Princess of Wales. ‘He was a great man … a great soldier.’

‘He fell at Jena. That wicked Napoleon! When shall we again sleep soundly in our beds? To think of his soldiers now … in our beautiful country … but I never thought much of it. England was my home … and it was consolation when I returned here. But I did not expect to return to this … squalor. How can I keep up the state due to my rank here? That is what I should like to know. But that wicked old woman … she always hated me. It was clear from the moment she arrived. Mecklenburg-Strelitz! She ought to have been humble. And so she appeared to be. Sly as a fox … though she looks more like a crocodile. Queen Charlotte! Oh, she would have liked to show her authority. “Oh no, no,” I said … and my mother was alive then and George was in leading strings, you might say. It was our Mamma who said which way he should go, not little Charlotte.’

‘De old Begum,’ chuckled the Princess of Wales.

Charlotte was astonished by the freedom with which they both expressed their dislike of the Queen, and while she was a little repelled, she was fascinated. From the gossip of these two she could learn more than she could through the chatter of servants and even the cartoons and snippets from the papers which the sly Mrs Udney brought to her notice.

‘Someone called Jerome Bonaparte now rules in our palace … some relation of that man. He’s splitting up Europe between them and we … the true rulers … are exiled wanderers on the face of the earth. My dear child, I can’t tell you what difficulty I had to escape. I came through Sweden … and so to England. I thought I should never arrive. What adventures … at my time of life! And when I came – what a welcome! George was kind, of course. A kind heart … though an addled head … but Charlotte … It’s a pity they named you after her, but don’t forget you have another name: Augusta. And that’s mine … so although you were named for her you were named for me too. Is that not strange? You bear both our names.’

‘Yes,’ said Charlotte, ‘it’s true. I was named after my two grandmothers. Is my uncle here?’

She had met her mother’s brother who was now the Duke of Brunswick, also in exile. He seemed different from the rest of his family – calmer, and yet a brave man. She had heard how he had fought with his men through the territory occupied by the French to the coast where a fleet of British ships was assembled to bring him to England with his motherless little boys.

That had seemed romantic and so had he in his dashing uniform and with his fine pair of moustaches giving him such a handsome look.

His little boys, Charles aged six and William four, were in this house occupying the upper rooms with their nurses and servants. Charlotte wondered whether she should go and see them before she left and suggested this.

‘Poor mites,’ said Caroline vaguely. ‘Perhaps if there is time … but we have only these two miserable hours and I suppose it will be reported if we try to make it longer. I want to spend every minute with my own sweet Charlotte.’

‘Dear, dear,’ said the Duchess. ‘So you and the Prince are still at loggerheads. I must say it is a very odd way of going on. I found him charming. He invited me to Carlton House. “Dear Aunt,” he said, “I shall be desolate if you don’t attend.” And so I went. How charming he is. What manners! I have never seen anyone bow with such grace and charm. I said to him: “My dear nephew, you are indeed the first Gentleman of Europe.”

‘You should have seen him on his wedding night. Drunk. He had to be supported on his way to the altar. Yes, he did. They had to stand very close to him to prevent his falling down.’ Caroline burst into loud laughter.

‘A charming man,’ said the Duchess, ignoring her. ‘I do not think that in all my life I have ever met a more charming man than my nephew, the Prince of Wales.’

‘He spent part of the wedding night under the grate. Very charming. I consider myself well off without him.’

Charlotte listened to this conversation with an eager horror. Her mother and her grandmother seemed to be carrying it on independently of each other and she wondered whether they were aware of her. But every now and then her mother would refer to her sweet Charlotte, her angel, her love, to remind her daughter that she was conscious of her presence.

Thus passed the two hours and Lady de Clifford was fidgeting to be off, for as she said to Charlotte, if they exceeded their stay the visits might be cut down to once a fortnight.

‘How strange,’ said Charlotte as the carriage carried them back to Carlton House, ‘that I am only allowed to visit my own mother once a week.’

Lady de Clifford did not think it strange at all when that mother was the Princess Caroline, when she had just emerged, scarcely unscathed from the Delicate Investigation, when it seemed almost certain that she was leading a very odd if not immoral life. It appeared to be very reasonable that her daughter – the future Queen of England – should be allowed only brief meetings with her.

Charlotte was silently thinking of her family.

‘It’s like a menagerie,’ she said. ‘A royal menagerie.’

Princess Charlotte was sickening for something. She was constantly shivering and to Lady de Clifford’s alarm had developed a fever. She called the doctors and Charlotte was sent to bed; she was too listless to protest and a few days later the rash indicated that she was suffering from measles.

There was consternation throughout the family and the Prince of Wales sent his first physician to attend his daughter.

He said to Maria: ‘If Charlotte should die they would tell me it was my duty to have another child. Maria, I could not do it. The thought of being near that woman makes me sick.’

Maria comforted him and said it was only the measles and most children recovered from this very quickly. Moreover, Charlotte was a strong child.

He scarcely left Maria’s side. It was at times like this that he realized how much he needed her. Maria was happy too; it was going to be all right, she was sure. His ridiculous passion for Lady Hertford was not important. That woman was as cold as ice and would never become his mistress. Maria had nothing to fear. He was wayward by nature; it was a sort of compulsion for him to stray. It meant little. Maria was his lifelong companion and after that other separation when he had deserted her for Lady Jersey he had come to realize this.

Miss Pigot was called in and gave her views on the measles; she prepared a few possets which she was sure the doctors would say were beneficial. And the Prince talked of nothing but Charlotte’s measles – not alas, Maria noted, because he cared so much for the child, but because he feared that her death would put him into a repulsive position.

The King and Queen discussed Charlotte’s measles. The King was worried. ‘She always seemed such a healthy child. Romping here, jumping there … eh, what? Measles. How bad is it? Are they telling us the truth, eh, what?’

The Queen said it was a childish complaint and Charlotte was in no danger. She was going to give very special instructions to Lady de Clifford and was sending some James’s Powder for the child. It had wonderful healing properties; and she was going to instruct Lady de Clifford not to allow the bed linen to be changed until she ordered that this should be done.

‘I could not sleep all night thinking of it,’ said the King. ‘The Princesses should not visit the child. That must be made plain. It’s a very contagious disease. Did you know that, eh, what?’

‘Indeed I know it, but once someone has had it they cannot have it again, so you need not fear for the Princesses.’

‘They’ll be wanting to go and nurse her, I daresay. I won’t have Amelia …’

‘Amelia shall not go and see her niece until it is perfectly safe for her to do so. You must trust me.’

The King nodded. He was forced to trust to the Queen for everything. A change from what it used to be, he thought, eh, what?

The carriage of the Princess of Wales arrived at Carlton House. Caroline alighted and brushed aside all who would detain her.

‘Where is my child?’ she demanded. ‘Take me at once to the Princess Charlotte.’

The pages and footmen were in a quandary. They knew that the Princess Caroline was not to be received at Carlton House. What could they do? How refuse her? She was after all the Princess of Wales.

‘Come, don’t try to obstruct me.’ She spoke in an odd mixture of French, German and English which they pretended they could not understand, and they allowed her to push her way into the house and to Charlotte’s room.

She flung open the door.

‘My angel! My little love!’

Charlotte said weakly: ‘Mamma. It is you?’

‘Of course it is me, my Lottie love. My baby ill and her Mamma not with her. Why I should be with you every hour! It should be my duty and my pleasure. How are you?’

‘I’m getting better, Mamma. But I have lots of spots all over me.’

‘Why bless you, you’ll soon be well again. I missed our two hours together.’ She grimaced and laughed aloud. ‘Life is not the same for me without my little Lottie, you know.’

‘Oh, Mamma, you are so … so …’

‘So what, my love?’

Charlotte could not say ‘So strange’, which was what she had meant, and she was too weak to think of any other way of expressing what she meant. So she substituted: ‘So … so dear to me.’

Caroline bent over her and kissed her.

‘Oh, Mamma, I am con … contagious.’

‘Dearest child, I wouldn’t care if you were a leper. I’d still kiss you.’

Charlotte was so tired she could scarcely keep her eyes open but Caroline did not seem to notice this. She sat by the bed and talked of the good times they would have together when Charlotte was well and they had found some way of flouting the rule that they were to meet only once a week.

Lady de Clifford was pacing up and down in the next room, asking herself how she could remove the Princess of Wales and what the Prince and the Queen were going to say when they knew that the woman had visited her daughter.

The Prince summoned Lady de Clifford. He bowed and bade her sit down. His manners, she thought, were impeccable. He had the gift of making one want to serve him with all one’s power; and she was very unhappy because she knew that however charming he might be outwardly, inwardly he was displeased.

‘My daughter is making a good recovery in your very capable hands,’ he said, to put her at her case. In spite of his bulk he was very handsome and Lady de Clifford was almost on the edge of tears because she had failed in her duty.

‘Thank you, Lady de Clifford, for all your care of her.’

‘Your Highness … if I could believe you were pleased with me I should be very happy, but I fear …’

He was all concern. ‘This unfortunate visit of the Princess of Wales?’ he said, and coldness came into his voice when he said her name.

‘Sir, I do not seek to excuse myself. I knew your wishes. I can only say that the Princess of Wales took us all by surprise. We had no notion …’

He nodded. ‘I understand that. I understand full well. She stormed into the room before she could be prevented. That is the case, is it not?’

‘Exactly so, sir.’

‘I think,’ he said, with that famous smile and the slight crinkling of the nose which made it lovable, ‘that we had better forget it. We can say that the Princess of Wales had an excuse because her daughter was ill. But I think we should take precautions that it does not happen again, don’t you?’

‘I am sure it will not. I am sure all concerned must be upset because they fear they may have failed in their duty, which is to serve Your Highness.’

‘Then that is well.’

With the utmost grace he had indicated that the interview was over; she rose and took her leave, feeling that whatever happened she would see that no one in her household ever displeased him again.

When Charlotte recovered she went to Bognor and there revelled in her freedom and was soon full of health again.

It was wonderful to be there, to sample Mr Richardson’s buns once more and to stroll along the shore looking for seaweed and anything the waves had washed up; she rode her carriage and four greys through the country lanes; she talked to the people.

Those were happy days; but back at Carlton House she soon discovered that there was a great deal of friction in her household.

The two chief combatants were Dr Nott and Mrs Udney; their dislike of each other had gradually grown and now they could scarcely hide it.

Quarrels constantly broke out between them; they criticized each other. Dr Nott declared that Mrs Udney was introducing the Princess to certain kinds of literature which should not be brought to her notice. Mrs Udney retorted that Dr Nott was trying to influence the Princess in the hope that later he might obtain certain benefits.

These petty quarrels were certain, sooner or later, to break out into a conflict which could not be ignored and it happened one day when Dr Nott came in and found the Princess Charlotte and Mrs Udney examining some cartoons which Mrs Udney had acquired.

This love of what were known as ‘prints’ had made a bond between Charlotte and Mrs Udney. It was not that Charlotte liked the woman – she never would do that – but she did find her conversation with its sly innuendoes irresistible; nor could she help being very interested in the cartoons and papers which Mrs Udney was constantly showing her.

Mrs Udney had just come from Gillray’s in St James’s Street and was chatting with the Princess, telling her of her visit to this shop.

‘He used to be in Old Bond Street and now he is moved to St James’s, which is even better. Your Highness would like to see Gillray’s shop.’

Mrs Udney’s malicious smile played about her lips. Dare she take Charlotte there one day? It was a bit risky, for she could lose her position if discovered.

‘Old Gillray is above, working away at his cartoons. I’ve seen him once. Such a quiet man, Your Highness – grey eyes and grey hair, but there is a sort of liveliness about him. You would never guess he could do such clever … wicked work.’

‘He is undoubtedly clever,’ said Charlotte.

‘Yes, yes. Look at this one.’

It was a picture of the King – looking quite ridiculous and yet somehow so exactly like her grandfather that there was no mistaking him. He was seated at a bench making buttons. There were rows of them on the bench and beneath the picture was written ‘The Royal Button Maker’. There was another of the King wearing leggings and with straw in his hair. It was called ‘Farmer George’. There was one of the King and Queen – the Queen wearing an apron and frying sprats while the King toasted muffins. This was ridiculing the humble way they liked to live.

‘They have some very wicked ones,’ said Mrs Udney with a laugh. ‘Miss Humphrey serves below with Betty Marshall who can’t stop giggling. They know me well. I’m a good customer.’

‘I wonder my grandfather does not send him to prison.’

‘Oh, we’d have all London up in arms and marching on St James’s if he did. No one would be allowed to lay a finger on Gillray. London would see to that. He makes the people laugh too much … and they like to laugh. Miss Humphrey thinks he’s a genius, which is not surprising, considering …’

‘Considering what?’

Mrs Udney winked.

‘She’s his … m … mistress?’ asked Charlotte.

Mrs Udney nodded significantly. ‘Well, you’ve got to know how your future subjects live, haven’t you? Your Highness would be surprised. It’s very respectable, mind. They’re as good as married. Betty Marshall told me one day that he and Miss Humphrey did start out for St James’s Church to get married and before they got there he got an idea for a cartoon and that made him change his mind. So they went back and things went on just as they had been.’

Charlotte was vitally interested and wanted to hear more about James Gillray and Miss Humphrey.

There was a great talent in his work, and he was very prolific. According to Mrs Udney, he had made not only a name for himself but a fortune.

Mrs Udney had brought an old cartoon with her of Mrs Fitzherbert and the Prince with Mr Fox and Mr Pitt which had been done soon after the Prince’s secret marriage to Mrs Fitzherbert. Pitt and Fox were both dead now but Charlotte knew a great deal about them. A study of politics was essential to her education and no study of English politics could be complete without these two illustrious names.

The cartoon was called ‘Dido Forsaken’ and it showed Mrs Fitzherbert – a good deal younger than she was today – standing on a pile of logs on the shore. A boat was sailing away from them and in it were Pitt, Fox and the Prince of Wales. From the Prince’s mouth came a bubble in which were written the words: ‘I never saw her in my life,’ and from Fox’s: ‘No, damme, never in his life.’

Charlotte was studying this intently when Dr Nott came in so quietly that neither she nor Mrs Udney heard him. This gave him the opportunity to see what it was they were so intent on and there spread on the table was not only ‘Dido Forsaken’ but ‘The Royal Farmer’ and ‘Button Maker’ and ‘Frying Sprats and Toasting Muffins’.

As he stared at them his face grew scarlet. He tried to speak but he could only splutter.

Then he turned to Mrs Udney and said in a voice cold with fury: ‘You will hear more of this.’

The entire household was discussing the trouble between Dr Nott and Mrs Udney. The Bishop arrived and was closeted for a long time with Dr Nott.

The general verdict was that Mrs Udney would receive orders to leave the household. Dr Nott had the Bishop on his side and everyone knew that Mrs Udney was a scandalmonger and that the subjects she discussed with the Princess were unsuitable.

Charlotte was dismayed. She discovered that although she admired Dr Nott she preferred the company of Mrs Udney. Dr Nott was a good man and he had been selected by the King and approved by the Prince of Wales because of his piety; his lectures on Religious Enthusiasm had brought him fame; but he was a bore.

Hourly everyone was waiting for Mrs Udney’s dismissal, and Charlotte was sorry for her.

‘I shall miss you if you go,’ she said.

They were both thinking of that mention in her will. ‘Nothing … for reasons.’ Things had changed since then and Charlotte had realized that Mrs Udney brought a great deal of amusement and enlightenment into her life.

‘Your Highness should not be made unhappy by the loss of your servants,’ said Mrs Udney.

‘Alas,’ replied the Princess. ‘I do not choose them.’

‘That old man is very sensitive. I believe he would go if he thought Your Highness was displeased with him.’

‘I am displeased with him.’

‘Perhaps he does not know it.’

‘Lady de Clifford is in a fret about this.’

‘Lady de Clifford is always in a fret about something, Your Highness.’

Charlotte went thoughtfully away and when she met Dr Nott she looked past him coldly to indicate that she blamed him for the trouble, and he was most upset.

All in the household thought the affair very strange for Dr Nott suddenly made up his mind that he wished to retire, that he did not believe he was suitable for the task which had been given him, and that he could be of greater service elsewhere in his chosen profession.

So Dr Nott went and the affair was suddenly over.

Mrs Udney was very amused and gratified by the way everything had turned out.

It was pleasant to think she could still make her little trips to Mr Gillray’s shop in St James’s where she could buy his latest prints and see how his life was progressing with Miss Humphrey.

Dr William Short was appointed to take Nott’s place and the Prince of Wales decided that as Charlotte was now thirteen it was time she learned something about the laws and the government of the country; so in addition to Dr Short, William Adam was sent to her to give her instruction. This was significant because Adam, lawyer and politician, had become Solicitor General and Attorney General to the Prince of Wales and Keeper of the Great Seal for the Duchy of Cornwall. He was a Whig and ardent admirer of the late Charles James Fox – although at one time they had fought a duel. Adam’s task was to make a Whig of Charlotte and this he found by no means difficult. Young and impressionable, she was charmed with Adam who was a man of very easy manners and personal attraction, though well advanced in his fifties. He won Charlotte’s affection immediately, for he was gay and kind; and he had recently lost his wife which made him at times attractively melancholy.

Charlotte was delighted by the change which had taken away poor old Dr Nott and put in his place this exciting personality, and it was through William Adam that Charlotte made an important friendship.

One day after she and Adam had had their lesson on parliamentary affairs, Adam mentioned his niece Margaret Mercer Elphinstone.

‘Mercer,’ he said, ‘we’ve always called her Mercer – has more personality than any woman I know. Mind you, she is a girl yet. Well, she would be some eight years older than Your Highness. But she is intelligent and forthright … indeed a young woman of great character. I think Your Highness would be interested in meeting her, so if at some time you will give me permission to present her …’

Charlotte thought everything that William Adam said was full of wisdom and she could scarcely wait to meet his niece.

So very soon Margaret Mercer Elphinstone was presented.

Charlotte was enchanted. Mercer had the most wonderful red hair; she was handsome and undeniably attractive; she was certainly forthright, poised and extremely knowledgeable of the world; she could talk politics with the utmost ease and it was obvious that William Adam had a respect for her opinions, and she was an ardent Whig.

The hour she spent with Charlotte passed all too quickly and when it was over Charlotte declared: ‘You must come and see me again. Please … when?’

Mercer replied coolly that when the Princess chose to command her she would come.

‘Command!’ cried Charlotte impetuously. ‘Let there be no talk of command. I want you to be my friend.’

There was no doubt that Mercer was pleased. She said she was glad of that because she had been hoping they would be true friends and between friends rank meant nothing.

‘I am so pleased you came,’ said Charlotte; and Mercer said she would call the next day.

Margaret Mercer Elphinstone was an exceedingly rich young woman; as the only child of Viscount Keith (whose sister William Adam had married) she was his heiress as well as her maternal grandfather’s; and because of her wealth she was pursued by suitors who, however, admired her as well as coveting her fortune.

Mercer opened a new world for Charlotte. Mercer attended balls and all kinds of functions where she had met interesting people. She had stories to tell of that wild and extraordinary young man Lord Byron who, Mercer confessed, had it in his mind to become one of her suitors. He was handsome, witty and had some deformity in his foot of which he was most ashamed. ‘I often wonder whether I should marry him,’ said Mercer. ‘I might be able to help him.’

‘Does he need help?’ Charlotte wanted to know eagerly. ‘He seems to be so sought after.’

‘Oh, everyone is amused and interested by him. But at the same time he is often melancholy. He will be a great poet one day and I am sure I could help him.’

Charlotte was equally sure Mercer would be able to; in fact there was nothing, according to Charlotte, that Mercer could not do.

She thought about Mercer constantly. She wanted to give her presents; when Mercer was absent she wrote long letters to her and could not be lured away from the writing table.

‘It has made all the difference to me,’ she declared, ‘to have a friend of my own.’ She quickly became passionately fond of Mercer; when Mercer was coming to see her she was filled with gaiety; when she went away she was melancholy.

She gave a ring to her friend in which she had had a message engraved stating her love for her friend and expressed the hope that Mercer would always keep it.

Mercer vowed she would and it would be a precious memento for the rest of her life; it would be a comfort if the day came when she was separated from Charlotte.

‘That day shall never come,’ declared Charlotte. ‘I shall see to that. When I am queen you shall be chief minister.’

That made Mercer laugh. Would they allow a woman to be that? she asked.

‘I am the one who shall make such decisions and I will have no one else.’

How pleasant it was to talk of the future. They also discussed the politics of the past; Mercer was widely informed on the Colonies question and she told how they would never have been lost if Fox had been in power. Fox was the greatest politician of the age and he had simply never had a chance to show his genius. Poor Lord North had vacillated – and the King with him – and so England had lost America. Mercer wanted to free the country from Tory influence, so Charlotte did too.

How exciting the world had become since she had known Mercer – and to think that she had once thought it the height of bliss to sit on a stool in Mr Richardson’s bakery and eat his buns!

Lady de Clifford reported the absorbing friendship to the Queen, who decided to speak to Charlotte.

‘Future rulers,’ said the Queen, ‘should never make particular friendships. People are apt to presume on such … they may be the best of people but the fact that one is going one day to be in a position of importance should make one very careful.’

What is the old Begum talking about? thought Charlotte.

‘Your great and only source of happiness comes from your father,’ went on the Queen. ‘You should not look for it in other directions until he advises you to do so.’

Now what did that mean? Until her father procured a man and said ‘Marry him’? She would not allow herself to be forced into that, Mercer believed in independence. ‘If you are weak people will impose on you,’ said Mercer. How right she was. How right she always was. And how adorable! The best friend in the world.

Charlotte looked obliquely at her grandmother.

If she thought she was going to spoil her friendship with Mercer, she was very much mistaken.

Nothing was done to prevent the friendship, which strengthened as the months passed. Then a series of tragedies struck the royal family and it seemed to Charlotte that she was jerked out of her childhood and nothing was ever quite the same again.

The trouble appeared to start because of a conflict between two of her uncles, Edward, Duke of Kent, whom she had never liked, and her favourite of them all, Uncle Fred, Duke of York.

It was such a scandal that try as they might they could not keep it from her; and that was the beginning.