by Jean Plaidy
If George had not been so eager to see Hanover he would have abandoned the whole project; but he was so heartily sick of his new country and so fervently longing for his old, that he was determined to make the trip whatever the consequences. Moreover war was imminent – war which would involve Hanover – and he wanted to make sure that if Hanover should need the support of England, Hanover should have it.
Marlborough, backed by his forceful wife, always ready to seek a way back to power, suggested that six men should be chosen who would support the Prince in his Regency and have equal power with him. This idea enchanted Marlborough, for he saw himself as one, with four of his friends – possibly members of his family – who would sit in Council with the Prince and in fact govern the realm with the Prince as the mouthpiece. A project after his own heart.
But the days of Marlborough’s glory were long behind him. Walpole and Townsend laughed at the Duke’s temerity behind his back. The old man must be getting senile to think he could get away with that one! They smiled to think of him hatching it with Sarah – and being so unaware of the decline in their fortunes as to think such a suggestion could be anything but laughable.
Townsend, as Prime Minister, had made his decision. The King did not like him so he already had one foot in the Prince’s camp and he had made up his mind that his support was going to the Prince.
He addressed the Council, telling them that there was no precedence for what was suggested. Never before when a Prince of Wales had been of an age to become Regent in the absence of the King had he been asked to agree that others should join with him. The Prince would be working in collaboration with the Parliament and that was according to the laws and customs of England.
‘I will not have him Regent,’ cried George. ‘This would give him too much power. He would have a position similar to that now held by the Duke of Orleans. This is a different matter. Louis XV is a minor, and the Duke is in all but name King of France. To be Regent at this time in France is to be King. It must not be so here. Regent he shall not be called. My son must not have the power of a Regent. His talents do not justify this.’
The members of the Council were silent for a while; and then Townsend said: ‘There is another title which was once used in England. It is Guardian and Lieutenant of the Realm. It implies a guardianship without the power of a Regent. Does Your Majesty think this could be bestowed on the Prince of Wales? It would give him a title without great power. It would thus preserve his dignity while giving Your Majesty less cause for anxiety.’
‘I will look into this,’ said George. ‘I think it may well be what we need.’
‘Guardian and Lieutenant of the Realm!’ cried George Augustus taking off his wig – a familiar habit when incensed – and first stamping on it and then proceeding to kick it round the apartment. ‘I am Regent. I vill be Regent.’
‘This is not bad,’ soothed Caroline. ‘Vait till he is gone… just vait. That is all. Vat we must do is make this pipple love us. This ve can do. Ve vill have our court. It vill be as though ve are the King and Queen. And if anything goes wrong… it is not your fault. You are only the Guardian of the Realm… not the Regent. As soon as he has gone ve shall show the pipple how much more pleasant it is ven you are King.’
‘Guardian of the Realm!’ growled George Augustus.
‘Vat do the pipple know of that? Vat do they care? It is the pipple’s love ve vant, George Augustus. It is friends… Ve vill have our court. To it vill ve invite those who vill help us most… and those who are not pleased vith the King. Never mind if they call you Regent or Guardian. This is your chance to show this pipple vat a King you vill be.’
His scowl lightened; he picked up his wig and put it on his head. He stood on tiptoe; he looked in the mirror. He was already seeing himself as King.
‘This is my chance, Caroline,’ he said. ‘That is how I see it. Guardian of the Realm! It is an insult. But vat does the name matter? They vill see, these dear good pipple, vat a King I shall be. They vill long for the day… just as I do. And it vill come.’
She smiled at him; she was growing more fond of him as time passed.
There was excited activity at St James’s, but no one was more excited at the prospect of leaving England than the King; he was almost jovial – a mood in which many of his subjects had never seen him before.
Mustapha and Mahomet were, of course, going with the King; but they were not very pleased. Life had offered them far more in England than it had in Hanover. They had been able to give out many of the smaller posts in the King’s household and they had quickly discovered how they could make a profitable business of this.
They had laughed together at the grumbles of the King’s courtiers who asked: Who ever heard of a king who would have only two Turkish servants to assist him at his toilet? This had been a longstanding ceremony in the life of English kings and this German had substituted two Turks for all the gentlemen who could have had lucrative posts in his household.
Just another crude habit of a coarse-minded king, said the disappointed gentlemen; but Mahomet and Mustapha had developed a talent for greed; so they were not pleased to be taken from the happy hunting ground.
Stanhope was uneasy. He was to accompany George to Hanover, leaving Townsend and Walpole behind. He would, of course, have the ear of the King, which was important, but how could he know what was going on in the mind of Townsend and the even more wily one of Walpole? What would they be doing while he was away?
The King’s two mistresses naturally accompanied him – the Maypole and the Elephant. Kielmansegge was not eager to go; she had found lovers among the English and she was growing to like them better than the Germans. Moreover, in Hanover was their old rival the Countess von Platen, who would of course welcome George very affectionately – and even a man of habit as he undoubtedly was could not help being glad of a change.
And Ermengarda? A little while ago she would have been delighted to go to Hanover. That was when she was afraid for the King’s safety. But why go now when the horrible Pretender had shown he could do nothing against the King and had scuttled back to France? Why not stay in England where life was really more comfortable and there were so many perquisites for those in favoured places? Oh, yes, Ermengarda would rather have stayed in England.
At the same time she was fond enough of George to be pleased to see him happy. So with her usual placidity she prepared to accompany her lord to Hanover.
There was one other at St James’s who rejoiced as wholeheartedly as George – and that was Caroline, for she saw clearly that the pattern of life had changed. She was no longer going to pretend she was trying to please the King. She had had to come out into the open.
Very well, they were rivals. And while he was away she was going to lay the foundations of that court of which she would one day be Queen.
They understood each other, and George could not help but admire Caroline.
He found himself saying now and then: If she were not my own son’s wife…
She was a damned fine woman. Large enough to please him physically; and it occurred to him that he might even enjoy pitting his wits against hers. It was the first time he had ever thought of a woman having wits – except his mother, of course; and there was his sister Sophia Charlotte who had been a clever woman.
Then he would yawn and think of Ermengarda on whom he had come to depend. She would never have been the comfort she had been if she’d had wits.
Uncomfortable things, wits in women. It was a good thing Caroline was his son’s wife. A good thing, too, that he was never a man to put himself out to pursue a woman. He’d always thought that a waste of good time. There were women enough about for his needs.
To Caroline’s astonishment the King announced that he would spend his last evening in her apartments.
She expressed her pleasure and arranged that a brilliant gathering should be there that he might honour them with his company.
He came – almost excited. No one had ever known h
im so pleasant.
It was not a very good impression to make, thought Caroline gleefully. He is happier than he has ever been since his coming to England – and the reason? Tomorrow he is leaving it. Oh, his English subjects will love him for this!
All to the good. They could turn their affection to his son.
George Augustus was there. She could hear him talking.
‘How happy I am that I do not leave with His Majesty. That is a thing I could not endure. It is because I find the English the best pipple in the vorld…’
The King is a fool, thought Caroline, to go away and leave the field to us.
And what had brought the King to their apartments that night? Was it a woman?
Caroline looked about the apartment with interest. Who? There were the black and red wigs of Kielmansegge and Schulemburg – nothing extraordinary about that. They accompanied the King everywhere and whatever woman he wanted, he would always keep those two.
Now I wonder, thought Caroline, and shrugged the matter aside.
The King had come to talk to her. A matter of policy, she thought; he wants to show the company that we are not enemies and there are no quarrels within the family.
‘I envy your seeing Frederick,’ she said. ‘I want you to tell him that I think of him often. Will you tell him that his sisters are growing big now? They are always talking of him and even baby Caroline who never knew him speaks of him as though he is familiar to her.’
‘I shall have much work to do in Hanover.’
She flushed angrily. ‘And no time to give a few messages to your grandson?’
How ugly he was, with his heavy jaw and his protuberant eyes! She was thankful she had a husband like George Augustus. How tragic to be married to a man like this! He was coarse, crude and without feeling.
She had raised her voice a little and he was anxious to show that there was no real discord in the family.
‘I will tell him what you say.’
‘And you will tell Gottfried Leibniz that I hope he will soon visit me in England.’
The King was silent. He was not going to be pressed too far.
Sullen old boor! thought Caroline; still he did look happy tonight and he was more genial than he had ever been before; he was even smiling at her.
And soon he would be gone and she would have her opportunity.
Momentary irritations could not spoil her pleasure in this night – nor the King’s.
The next morning the King was in good spirits while Mahomet and Mustapha dressed him. He had awakened at dawn, which came early for it was July, and, eager to waste no time, arose.
By ten o’clock he was at the Tower where he would take boat for Gravesend. The Prince of Wales accompanied him and George even addressed a few pleasant remarks to his son during the trip from the Tower to Gravesend where his yacht was awaiting him.
‘We want everyone to know that we are good friends,’ he told his son.
George Augustus put on his most affable manner, never forgetting to return a greeting from the few on the bank who stood watching the King pass along the river. Very few of them, the Prince noted with pleasure. They were not interested in seeing their Sovereign start on his journey. Let him go back to his sausages and sauerkraut, would be the comment of most of them.
This was indeed a great opportunity.
To Gravesend and aboard the yacht.
Father and son embraced – something they never remembered doing before. But each made the other aware that there was no affection in the gesture; it was merely to show the spectators that there was no family quarrel.
The Prince came ashore.
Back to St James’s to start his reign as Guardian of the Realm while the King sailed away to his beloved Hanover.
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; for 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, Caroline 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 n
eed 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!