by Jean Plaidy
Hervey was constantly at her side. He had quickly recovered from the shock of what had happened in his apartments when he saw Anne Vane going about her everyday concerns as though nothing had happened. They never spoke to each other publicly, keeping up the pretence that they were enemies all of which added to the piquancy of their affair. She came again to his lodgings and told him that she had had such attacks before—colics, she called them. She recovered, and after a day’s rest was perfectly well.
From then on the fear that she might die in his bed was an added fillip to his feelings for her and they went on meeting as frequently as ever.
In spite of his cynical attitude to the world, Hervey had a certain feeling for the Queen; and when he saw her looking so ill he ventured to remonstrate with her while he asked himself whether he was really concerned for her health or the effect her illness or death might have on his fortunes. His great virtue, he assured himself, was his determination to be frank with himself.
‘These birthday celebrations fatigue you greatly, Madam,’ he told her.
‘They will soon be over.’
‘Should you not explain to His Majesty that you need to rest?’
‘My lord, what are you thinking of? You know His Majesty’s attitude to illness. He hates it, and there are some things which he hates so much that the only way he can tolerate them is by pretending they don’t exist.’
‘That, Madam, is a state of mind which cannot exist permanently.’
‘You love your illnesses, my lord.’
‘I respect them. That is why I am constantly at your side instead of languishing in my bed.’
‘I have been twice blooded recently.’
‘All the more reason why you should rest, Madam.’
‘Pray don’t scold. I have known the King when he has been ill, get up from his bed, dress for a levee, conduct it, and when it is over return to bed, hiding from all but his most intimate servants the fact that he was ill.’
‘It is not Your Majesty’s custom to follow His Majesty’s follies.’
‘Hush, you young idiot.’
‘A most devoted, and at this moment, anxious idiot, Madam.’
‘Oh, come, come. You indulge me! ‘
‘Would I might do that.’
You please me enough with your tongue, my lord.’
Then I will make further use of my privilege and say that no member of your family, Madam, will ever admit to being ill ... nor acknowledge illness in others.’
‘If that is all our subjects will have to complain of us we shall be fortunate.’
‘I complain now, Madam, most bitterly.’
‘But you, my child, love illness, you pamper it, you study it, you revel in it. We merely spurn it and drive it away.’
‘We shall see, Madam, whose method is wiser.’
‘I hope not, my lord. I hope not for a long time.’
* * *
Sir Robert Walpole, himself suffering from the flying gout, was loath to attend any of the birthday celebrations; he was longing for the quiet of Norfolk where Maria and their daughter would be with him.
Twice a year he holidayed there and he was beginning to think that those two holidays were the best times of his year. Why did he go on fighting a cruel Opposition, a foolish King, and a Queen whom he respected but of late had seemed to be against him?
He allotted himself twenty days in November—twenty days of peace with Maria in his cherished Houghton among his treasures. All his treasures, he told himself with a rare sentimentality.
He looked back on a hard time. It had been particularly difficult keeping England out of war and the elections had not gone very well for him. He was still in power but with a reduced majority.
He must, he supposed, put in an appearance at the King’s celebrations otherwise there would be complaints against le gros homme. One had to placate the little man all the time.
He dressed with reluctance and presented himself at the Queen’s drawing room.
As he made his way to her side he was shocked by her appearance.
She’s a sick woman, he thought. Why does she not admit it? Doesn’t little George see. Of course not! When did he ever see what he didn’t want to?
‘Madam,’ he said, as he kissed her hand, ‘I have come to pay my respects and to tell you I shall shortly be leaving for Houghton.’
‘My poor Sir Robert, you are in need of a holiday.’ She swayed a little.
‘Madam ... you are not well.’
‘I was blooded twice recently. It takes a little time to recover.’
She is going to faint, he thought.
He caught Lord Hervey’s eye and he knew that Hervey understood. ‘Your Majesty should be resting,’ said Walpole. ‘Perhaps Lord Hervey would ask His Majesty if he would retire so that the Queen can go to her bed and rest a while.’
The Queen was about to protest, but Hervey did not wait. He went to the King and surprisingly George must, too, have been aware of his wife’s wan looks for he made no protests, but for once ignoring sacred time he retired to his apartments, leaving the Queen free to do the same.
* * *
In the Queen’s closet, Sir Robert paced up and down, talking gravely.
‘Madam,’ he said, ‘your life is of such consequence to your husband, your children, and to your country that to neglect it is the greatest immorality you can be capable of.’
‘Sir Robert, my dear friend, you flatter me.’
‘It is no flattery, Madam. I would be frank. This country is in your hands. The King’s fondness for you and the regard he has for your judgment are the only reins by which it is possible to restrain the natural violences of his temper or to guide him to where we wish him to go. We know that he does not care for the company of men, but cares greatly for that of women.’
‘You think he may have a mistress who will seek to influence him?’
‘That is possible. She might govern him. But I was thinking that if you do not take care of your health you may not be with us and he might marry again. What then? What if the Prince were inflamed against his father more than he is already? Oh, I see a thousand dangers which would come to this realm if you were not in the position you now hold.’
The Queen smiled sadly. ‘Your partiality to me, Sir Robert, makes you see many more advantages in having me, and apprehend many greater dangers from losing me, than are indeed the effects of the one or would be the consequences of the other.’
‘But you agree there are dangers?’
‘The King would marry again if I died, I am sure. Indeed I have advised him to do so. As for his government, he has such an opinion of your abilities that were I removed everything would go on as it does now. You have saved us from many errors, and this very year have forced us into safety whether we would or no, against our opinion and against our inclination. I own this. The King sees it; and you have gained his favour by your obstinate but wise contradiction, more than any minister could have done by the most servile compliance.’
Sir Robert kissed her hand for he believed it was noble of her to confess her fault; but it was what he would have expected of a woman of her intelligence.
‘I need you, Madam,’ he said. ‘I believe that without your help I should not be able to persuade the King into any measure he did not like. So, therefore, I beg of you take care of your health. I think I will not go to Houghton.’
‘But why not, my dear Sir Robert! You need to guard your health even as I do.’
‘I am so concerned for you.’
‘But this is nonsense. Go you shall. I order you.’
‘Then if you will allow Lord Hervey to send me accounts of your health ...’
‘I shall command him to do so.’
‘In that case, Madam. I take my leave.’
When he had gone, Caroline lay on her bed, and there were tears in her eyes when she reflected on the friendship of her dear gros homme.
When Walpole left the Queen, he went straight to Hervey’s lodgings t
o tell him of the interview and how he wished him to keep a watch on the Queen’s health.
This Hervey said he would do; and he added his fears to Walpole’s.
Then Walpole as was his custom proceeded to tell Hervey all that had been said.
Hervey suddenly clapped his hand to his mouth and said: ‘A fearful thought has struck me. The King may have heard every word you said! ‘
Walpole grew pale. ‘This will be the end for us both! ‘ he declared.
‘I may be wrong,’ said Hervey. ‘But I must tell you that I went to look for the Princess Caroline shortly after you joined the Queen. You know she always leaves her mother when you arrive to talk of state affairs.’
Walpole nodded.
‘One of her pages told me that she had left her mother when you went in and joined her father who was with the Princesses Amelia, Mary, and Louisa. He went through into the Queen’s bedroom with them; and you know that is the room next to the Queen’s closet in which you were talking to the Queen.’
‘He could have heard every word! ‘
‘If he listened.’
‘Certainly he would listen. I remember once how he deliberately hid himself in a closet and left the door open so that he could hear what passed between myself and the Queen.’
‘Then ...’
‘I can only repeat. This will be the end for us both.’
‘He will have been forced to see himself as you and the Queen see him—not the all-important king from whom all wisdom flows. This is disaster.’
‘You must find out if it is true. Can you?’
‘I am sure I can.’
‘Then for God’s sake do and let me know before I leave for Norfolk. If he has heard what we said then I may as well stay there. As for the Queen ...’
‘Leave it to me. I will discover.’
So a very discomfited Walpole left; and it was not a bad thing, reflected Lord Hervey, for all men to see how easily, when they are at the height of power, they can fall to ruin.
Walpole would be feeling now as he had when he had thought Anne Vane was going to die in his bed.
He was almost certain that the King had not overheard, for he had a shrewd idea where he would have gone after he had a few words with his daughters.
Still it was good to know that the great Walpole regarded him as such an invaluable friend; it was very gratifying to have him waiting eagerly for the note which would reach him early next morning.
He went to the page to whom he had spoken before and asked where the King had gone when the Princess Caroline had joined him and her sisters.
The page smiled.
‘He went to the nurseries, my lord.’
‘I’ll swear he spent a long time discussing his children’s education with Lady Deloraine,’ said Hervey lightly.
At which the page gave a veiled snigger.
Scandal quickly went the rounds, thought Hervey.
He then went direct to Walpole’s house in Chelsea because it was always so much more pleasant to deliver welcome news in person and Walpole would remember how his good friend did not wait until the morning.
He was greeted eagerly.
‘All is well! ‘ cried Hervey. ‘He was not in the Queen’s closet, and instead of hearing your truths he was talking love and devotion with his daughters’ governess.’
They laughed together, like old friends. The bond between them was stronger than ever.
* * *
And when Hervey was next with the Queen she spoke to him of her anxieties over Walpole.
‘He seemed to me so anxious. He is worried about his position, I believe. These last elections shook him. I feel that some of the spirit has gone out of him.’
Lord Hervey loved to enlighten people, particularly those in positions of power such as the Queen or Walpole, so he whispered confidentially that Walpole’s troubles were more personal than political.
‘Oh?’ said the Queen. ‘Does this in any way concern that woman he so dotes on?’
‘She is ill, Madam. And could be dangerously so. This is one of the reasons why Sir Robert is so distrait at this time.’
‘Poor Sir Robert! But I am surprised that a man of his talents should feel so deeply towards such a woman.’
‘Your Majesty has heard gossip of this woman?’
‘Well, I heard that he paid so much for her and that she makes demands upon him.’
‘I have heard that he paid £6,000 “entrance money”! ‘
‘You are an enfant terrible, my child.’
‘Would Your Majesty care to terminate this rather shocking conversation?’
‘I have lived too long at Court to be easily shocked by the morals of those about me. Pray go on.’
‘Maria Skerrett lodged with her stepmother next door to Lady Mary Wortley Montague, and that’s how Walpole met her. He was immediately attracted, but then before he met her he was flitting from woman to woman like a gay old ram in a field of sheep.’
The Queen laughed.
‘And, so the story goes, the transaction was made and a year later young Maria was born. Then our minister acquired the Old Richmond Lodge and made a home of it for them all. And every week-end, there he went to enjoy the sweets of domesticity. He was a changed man since he met Maria.’
‘I am glad he has amusement for his leisure hours. She must be very clever to have made him believe she cares for him.’
‘What, Madam, she does.’
What, that man with his gross body, that enormous stomach, and his swollen legs! ‘
Poor Caroline! thought Hervey. She is envious of this devotion between her minister and his mistress. She is beginning to find the strain of placating George unbearable. ‘Well, I hope she is soon better and that care is lifted from his shoulders,’ said Caroline briskly.
They began to talk of other things and he sought to amuse her with some of the verses he had written about the Court personalities.
He was very gratified to be on such terms with the two most important people in the country, to have such a power over both of them.
To work thus in the shadows was a role which became him well.
The Prince and his Mistress
THE King had been thinking of Hanover for some time. He talked of it continually and whenever he did so his voice would grow soft and his eyes become glazed with tenderness. Finally he announced his intention of paying a visit to his foreign dominions.
Walpole, returned from Houghton, whither he had taken Maria to recuperate after her illness, had now recovered from his melancholy since Maria was well again. He called on the King who received him testily in his private closet, expecting that he had come to protest about the proposed visit to Hanover. He was right.
‘Your Majesty,’ began Walpole, ‘a visit to Hanover will at this time be very unpopular with the country.’
‘If there is no visit that will be very unpopular with me,’ retorted the King.
‘At this time when there are disturbances on the Continent....’
‘In which we are not involved as you so wished,’ put in George.
‘In which, sir, we are most happily not involved. It is not a good moment for the visit. If it could be postponed ...’
It has been postponed too long. There will be no more postponements.’
‘Parliament is about to rise,’ said Walpole. ‘There will be business to attend to. To send despatches from my home in Chelsea to St James’s or Kensington is an easy matter. To send them from London to Hanover ...’
‘They’ll survive the journey.’
‘The King of Prussia is Your Majesty’s enemy. He would seek every chance of discomfiting you. Who knows, with affairs as they now stand, he might decide to drive you out of Hanover.’
‘Let him try! Nothing would please me more than to show him the stuff I’m made of.’
‘Your Majesty would agree that for you to be involved in combat with Prussia would not be to England’s advantage.’ ‘Enough! ‘ said the King.
&
nbsp; ‘Your Majesty, I must point out to you ...’
‘Pooh and stuff! ‘ shouted the King. ‘You think to get the better of me, but you shall nod ‘
There was nothing Walpole could do but retire.
* * *
He went to the Queen.
Could she persuade the King to see reason?
Caroline looked at him steadily and he saw that this was another occasion when she was not on his side.
‘He continues to talk of Hanover,’ she said. ‘He will go on fretting and fuming until he has what he wants.’
‘Madam, the situation is dangerous. He will be with his German advisers. They might persuade him to enter the war.’
‘He could not do it without the consent of the Parliament.’
‘The Opposition would support him merely to discomfit me.’
‘If you decide there shall be no war, there would be no war. That was what happened, was it not?’
‘I have reduced my majority, Madam, and increased my enemies. I should prefer the King to stay in England.’
The Queen did not speak. How ill she looks! thought Walpole. Oh, God, why will she not admit it? There is something wrong. Is she hiding it? What does Charlotte Clayton know? Could he ask her? The woman had always hated him so it was hardly likely she would tell him.
He understood suddenly. The Queen wanted the King to go because she needed a few months rest from his eternal tantrums, from his husbandly attentions, from his ill temper. The Queen needed to be free.
Walpole had never once doubted the importance of the Queen. He respected her mind and her judgment. It was rarely that they disagreed; and over this matter of war she had admitted she was wrong. The fact that she could admit this enhanced her value in his eyes.
He needed the Queen, and the Queen needed a respite from the King.
Walpole made up his mind. He would put no more obstacles in the way of the King’s going to Hanover.
* * *
The King left for Hanover and in a few days the Queen seemed to have recovered a little in health. She now rested for a part of the day; she curtailed her walks; she was more relaxed. When Walpole visited her he knew that he had been right to run the risk of what mischief George could fall into in Hanover for the sake of giving the Queen this respite.