by Jean Plaidy
‘Is it time to rise then, Henrietta?’
‘Yes, Highness. The children are waiting outside.’
‘Then bring them in.’
They came in and Caroline held out her hand bidding them come to her bedside.
Anne, as the eldest, came ahead of the others, almost pushing them aside in her eagerness to be there first. Not, thought Caroline, because she wishes to be with me; but because she must be first. She is too proud, too conscious of her dignity, this one, too much aware of being a Princess.
‘Vell and vat have you been doing this day?’ asked Caroline.
‘What have we been doing today, Mamma?’ A gentle correction, this. Caroline was glad she could make it but wondered whether the slight arrogance should be reproved or ignored. ‘We have been walking in the park and playing in the pond garden. Caroline fell into the pond. It was rather stupid of her. But she is stupid.’
Little Caroline’s lips began to tremble and her mother held out her hand. The child took it and Henrietta lifted her on to the bed.
‘There,’ said the Princess, ‘is that better? I remember when I was von little girl I fell into a pond.’
The child was happy nestling close. She is too thin, thought her mother. I must tell them to take special care of her. Does Anne bully her?
Amelia would not, of course. Contemplating her second daughter, Caroline was proud of her charming looks. Amelia already showed signs of being the beauty of the family and, although two years younger, was as tall as Anne. Although, like Anne, she was fully aware of the dignity due to a Princess she was not spiteful and would stand by her little sister.
I wish I could see more of them, thought the Princess.
‘Now you must me tell how you fall into the pond.’
‘She slipped,’ said Anne. ‘And Lord Hervey pulled her out.
‘Mrs Lepel was there and she said she must change her clothes; and Lord Hervey carried her into the palace.’
Caroline was trying to remember Lord Hervey… a young man new to the court, she supposed. She must ask Molly Lepel sometime.
‘And Mrs Bellenden helped, and they made such a fuss. They made her change her clothes.’
Little Caroline was smiling, so evidently she had enjoyed the adventure.
‘Let Caroline tell me herself,’ said her mother.
She loved to listen to the prattle of their voices – English voices. A pity that however much she tried she could not rid herself of her German accent. Oh dear, what was happening to Fritzchen? Would he arrive speaking English like his father and mother?
There were voices outside; Caroline recognized the booming tones of her husband. So he had had his sleep and was already dressed. She had not noticed how the time was flying.
‘Ha, my tear! So this is how I find you. In bed, eh? It is goot… for your condition.’
He was beaming. The part of first gentleman suited him. His great desire, like hers, would be that his father remained in Hanover and never returned.
‘So… our little ones are here too.’
Anne and Amelia looked at him with awe; young Caroline drew a little closer to her mother.
He was smiling jovially enough, but somehow he had not the knack of winning their confidences. Perhaps it was because, with the intuition of children, they sensed beneath his bonhomie a boredom with them.
Caroline was disappointed because he had disturbed her interview with her children – and she always looked forward to these meetings with the utmost pleasure – but this was something he must never know.
‘So you grow up,’ he said. ‘Ha, you are von big girl now.’
‘Yes, Papa, I am a big girl.’
‘I am as tall, Papa, although I’m two years younger,’ Amelia pointed out.
‘She is too tall,’ said Anne.
The animosity between the two sisters was visible, and that it should be over a matter of height was disturbing on account of the Prince’s preoccupation with his own lack of inches.
‘My tear,’ said the Prince, ‘it is time I should take you for your valk. I vill vant to speak vis you of the celebrations for the anniversary of our coming. It is just two years and it is expected.’
‘That shall be very interesting.’
The Prince sat down on a stool and looked tenderly at his wife. A fine woman – and these their children. Fine children; and Caroline soon to have another. He had done well.
Henrietta came to the bed and lifted off young Caroline. She took the little girl by the hand and with the others went to the door.
The Prince followed them with his eyes. His wife, his children, his mistress… here together… happy together. His father far away; men and women everywhere seeking his favour.
He had never been so contented in his life.
Those were enchanting days at Hampton – not only for the Prince and Princess and those who flocked to their court but for simple country folk. George I had wanted to close St James’s Park and had been told that his three crowns would be in jeopardy if he did; in direct contrast George Augustus appeared to delight in the presence of his father’s subjects, however lowly, in the grounds of Hampton Court. He and Caroline, taking their walk there, often stopped to say a word or two to some countryman and his wife and left them gaping after them, loyal supporters for ever after.
Hampton Court was the gayest, merriest court that had existed since the days of Charles II. Old men and women, such as the Duchess of Monmouth, recalled the court of that monarch and the excitement of long ago. They told tales of the witty king and his merry court. Like the Prince and Princess of Wales he had spent a great deal of time in what he called sauntering. It was an excellent custom for it enabled his subjects to see him often and even talk with him now and then. But whereas Charles had strolled with a bevy of mistresses and his spaniels, the Prince of Wales strolled with his wife – and wonderfully tender he was to her on account of her condition; it was true his mistress was in attendance too; but a man might be allowed one mistress, and since his wife appeared to have no objection, why should anyone else?
The Prince and Princess of Wales were very quickly forming their own special entourage and at the same time winning the approval of the King’s subjects.
No wonder they were satisfied!
There was one who was not.
Count Hans Caspar von Bothmer, never far from the Prince of Wales, watched in consternation. The King was enjoying his visit to Hanover. He had heard rumours that there was rejoicing there at the return of the Elector, that his German subjects were delighted that he was back with them and appreciated him more than ever now that he brought English money and English support for Hanover.
He was at Herrenhausen reunited with the Countess von Platen though Schulemburg and Kielmansegge were in attendance. ‘The King gives every sign that he has forgotten the misfortune which happened to him and his family in August 1714,’ said one report.
‘The King so clearly loves Hanover that he will never willingly leave it,’ said another.
And meanwhile in England his son was playing king.
In his apartments Bothmer wrote down everything he noticed at Hampton Court and sent it to the King. It was a warning, but the King had never wanted the crown of England; his heart was in Hanover and he could not bring himself to leave his old home.
Fanning herself, for the sun was warm, Caroline sat in one of the pavilions with her little girls, her ladies and some of the gentlemen of the court, while the Prince presented prizes to the winners of the races which he had organized.
Caroline loved the pavilions which had been built at each corner of the Green and had been luxuriously furnished. Like the Prince, she was fond of being out of doors and spent a great deal of time here, so that although her condition prevented her from walking as much as she would like she could enjoy the fresh air. In the late afternoons she and her friends would drink a dish of tea and the country folk would see them chatting or playing cards. This was what the people wanted from their r
oyalty. The less privacy the better.
Caroline, sensing this, readily accepted it; George Augustus was so anxious to be the centre of attraction that the sacrifice of his privacy was no hardship. They had grown accustomed to being watched at dinner, and if at times they were a little weary of it, they reminded themselves that one of the main causes of the King’s unpopularity was his refusal to show himself and be gracious to his subjects.
Mary Bellenden was talking quietly to Colonel John Campbell and Caroline reflected that Mary had become more serious lately; Sophie Howe was flirting with several young men, throwing them provocative glances, whispering, and now and then suppressing her giggles; Sophie would never be serious; and Molly Lepel was talking to one of the young men from the Prince’s household, Lord Hervey, a very amusing young man, she suspected, if she could judge from Molly’s smiles.
Henrietta was close to her, solicitous as ever of her needs, and Lady Cowper and Mrs Clayton were at hand ready to criticize everything Henrietta did because they did not approve of her relationship with the Prince.
One could not explain to them that it was better that he should have a mistress on whom she could keep an eye, and certainly one like Henrietta who never flaunted her position and performed her duties in the Princess’s bedchamber as efficiently as she did those in the Prince’s.
There was a burst of applause as one of the winners curtsied to the Prince. Caroline clapped her hands and bade the little girls do the same. George Augustus presented a quilted petticoat to the girl.
‘It vill you most become,’ he told her to the delight of the crowd.
And for another a smock and another a sarcenet hood.
‘You vill not forget this day… not never, eh?’
Even the Prince’s German accent sounded charming on that day.
‘And I am sorry for all those who haf not von. Everyone cannot vin. Is it not? For all there shall be vine and cakes. Then ve are all happy.’
The Prince came to the pavilion.
‘And you are not in a vind, my tearest? Ve must of you take care.’
Mrs Howard sprang forward to place a scarf about the Princess’s shoulders.
‘No, it is not necessary. It hide the Princess’s neck… and that is von shame. The Princess haf the most beautiful neck in the vorld. The people should see.’
‘I am not cold,’ said Caroline.
The Prince sat beside her, beaming, contented.
‘It is goot,’ he said, ‘to see our peoples so happy.’
His eyes were misty as they rested on lovely Mary Bellenden. What a charming creature! Should not a Prince have more than one mistress? Would the people, who so often talked of Charles II with affection, particularly now that he George Augustus had shown them what a gay court he would let them share in, say ‘Ah, but he will never be as Charles. Charles had many mistresses; he would stroll in the Mall with three or four at a time.’
He called to Henrietta to stand beside him.
‘You haf enjoyed this day, my tear?’ he asked.
She assured him that it had been amusing to watch the races and it gave her great pleasure to see everyone having such a pleasant day.
He pressed her hand.
‘I shall visit you this evening,’ he said.
‘Your Highness is gracious,’ replied Henrietta.
Henrietta was giving a little party. She was popular and these occasions were always well attended, for she was so good-hearted that she could never take sides between Whigs or Tories but longed for a peaceful existence, and this she seemed to achieve.
To her party came the Prince of Wales. The Princess had retired early on account of her condition; and there were cards and music. The Prince treated Henrietta with almost luxurious tenderness; she had become such a habit with him, although when Mary Bellenden was present he would turn a definitely lascivious gaze on her. As for Mary she was quite content to be in the Prince’s company as long as there were others present. Perhaps, she thought, I could get him to do something for John, for John was so poor that difficulties would be made if they tried to marry just yet. But I’ll have no other, Mary thought fiercely, and reminded herself she was foolish to think the Prince would grant honours to his successful rival. He was not that sort of man.
She noticed that Lord Townsend was present tonight which was a compliment to Henrietta Howard; and he was beside her showing her great attention, and it seemed as though he respected her.
Mary wanted to laugh. Did Townsend think that he could find favour with the Prince through Henrietta Howard! He was not very discerning if he did – and he a Prime Minister – for Henrietta had no influence at all with the Prince; in fact the only reason why she held her position was because she made no attempt to meddle. The Prince of Wales resembled the King in as much as he liked his women docile. Mary knew that any woman’s favour with the Prince would depend upon her ability in getting her way without letting him know it.
Henrietta would be no good at that; so she was wise enough not to try.
Now the Princess… that was another matter. It was obvious to Mary that the Princess had her way far more often than the Prince realized.
Sophie Howe had come up to her.
‘Look who’s here,’ said Mary.
‘My lord Townsend, the Prime Minister?’
‘It’s the first time he’s been here.’
‘I don’t find him attractive,’ said Sophie. ‘He doesn’t interest me.’
Mary laughed. ‘You seem to be obsessed by one idea.’
‘It’s a very nice idea,’ retorted Sophie.
Mary was not the only one who had noticed the presence of the Prime Minister. Lady Cowper was watching him, and knew very well why he had come.
She did not approve of Henrietta Howard; in fact she liked to imply that had she been a woman of a less rigid moral character she might have borne the same relationship towards the King as Henrietta Howard did to the Prince of Wales.
She was fond of saying that she had quickly made the King aware that if he wanted an English mistress he should look elsewhere, and had gladly taken up her post in the Princess’s household.
She and Mrs Clayton, both having serious natures, deplored the frivolous behaviour of some of the maids of honour, and in particular Sophie Howe. If Lady Cowper could have had her way that girl would have been dismissed long ago.
So now she noticed Townsend and was very certain that there was a purpose behind his visit to Henrietta Howard’s rooms. She was faintly disturbed, too, for she believed that if important politicians began paying attention to Henrietta Howard, very soon the woman could become important. That was something Lady Cowper would prevent if it were possible.
She made her way to Townsend’s side.
‘A pleasant party, my lord,’ she said.
‘Very pleasant.’ He looked at her without interest. The man is not subtle enough, thought Lady Cowper. Knowing my position with the Princess he should be careful. But of course he did not realize the importance of the Princess.
She decided to speak to him frankly.
‘If you seek the Prince’s favour you have come to the wrong place.’
Townsend looked startled.
‘Mrs Howard has no influence with him whatsoever.’
Townsend hesitated. Then he said: ‘I should like to hear the Prince’s views.’
‘Knowing you are his father’s Prime Minister he is scarcely likely to trust you.’
‘This is unfortunate… this feud between the King and Prince.’
‘Oh, doubtless it will enable some men to make their fortunes.’
‘It is not good for the country.’
‘And you… as the King’s man would like to hear the Prince’s case.’
‘Naturally.’
‘And therefore you seek the friendship of his nearest confidante?’
Townsend was silent.
‘You are in the wrong apartment, my lord. I did not think your manner particularly gracious to the Princess i
n the pavilion today. The Princess may have noticed it. She is not a figure-head, you know.’
‘It was the Prince’s views in which I was interested.’
‘My lord, you are not aware of the truth. The woman who guides the Prince in all he does is the Princess. If you wish for the Prince’s favour first seek that of the Princess.’
Townsend was looking at Henrietta who, being a little deaf, was straining to hear what the Prince was saying to her.
‘She is his mistress, yes,’ said Lady Cowper. ‘She is a habit with him, or it might be that he would have discarded her. She dare not attempt to advise him.’
‘And the Princess dares?’
‘The Princess is the cleverest woman at this court, my lord. Until you have discovered that you will not get far with the Prince. She will be at cards in the pavilion tomorrow. If you wish it I will present you to her. She will be gracious and forgive you for past neglect. She will know, of course, how you blundered.’
Townsend looked alarmed.
‘I’m right, you will find,’ laughed Lady Cowper. ‘In time you will realize that.’
To his surprise Townsend discovered that Lady Cowper was right. The Princess of Wales, while bearing the heirs to the realm, had time to spare for dabbling in politics. In fact, once Townsend had gained her confidence she was ready to show that the subject was to her the most fascinating in the world and that when the time came for her to be Queen of England she would do everything in her power to play a big part in its government.
She was clever because she was controlled. Her gift of deceiving the Prince into thinking that she followed him in his ideas when the facts were the complete reverse, was masterly.
Here, thought Townsend, is a true statesman. And he wondered at his folly in not realizing this before.
Walpole was aware of it also, but he was more cautious; he was not going to be on with the new before the old was out. He had warned Townsend that the old spy Bothmer was watching them and reporting everything to Hanover.