‘There is von only who shall be the Regent,’ said the King. He took Caroline’s hand and kissed it. ‘Who vould I trust but my dear Caroline.’ His eyes filled with tears so he did not see the triumph in hers. ‘You have been von goot vife to me, Caroline. I shall never forget.’
‘I think I am the luckiest voman in the vorld,’ she answered.
Such conversations were a delight to him; he often indulged in them when they were alone, but in company he still snubbed her and ridiculed her, because he continued to smart under the implications in that unfortunate rhyme.
A respite, the Queen was thinking. She would not have to placate him, not have to be humiliated before people; she would be able to rest now and then when she was fatigued; she would not have to walk in the park with him when her legs were swollen. She would enjoy many a delightful tête-à-tête with Walpole. They would decide policy together and not have to spend so much time planning how they should deal with the King.
But she must not show her pleasure; she must be resigned to his departure while at the same time assuring him that he could trust her to do exactly as he would during his absence.
The weather was clement for May had come; and George set sail for Hanover.
* * *
In Kensington Palace Caroline held her first Council meeting.
The Commission of Regency was read and all present came to her for the honour of kissing her hand and swearing loyalty.
The first was the Prince of Wales.
His manner several noticed was a little sullen. Was he at last beginning to be a little resentful? Was he asking himself why he, being of age and being the Prince of Wales, was denied the office of Regency during his father’s absence?
* * *
There were three men who were aware of the effect the Queen’s Regency was having on the Prince of Wales. These were Viscount Bolingbroke, William Pulteney, and William Wyndham. They were the most formidable members of the Opposition and Walpole had long considered them his greatest menace.
They met soon after the King’s departure from England and Bolingbroke, the leader of the group, talked freely of the Prince of Wales.
‘He is beginning to be piqued,’ he said. ‘Soon he will be angry. Then will come our chance.’
‘Do you think,’ asked Wyndham, ‘that we might attempt to whip up his anger a little? After all he is Prince of Wales and it is natural for a Prince of Wales to be Regent in the absence of his father.’
‘Wait a while,’ said Pulteney. ‘It may be that the time is not yet ripe. He has been here such a short while and he may believe that just now he is not in a position to be the Regent.’
Bolingbroke put in: ‘Yes, I think perhaps we should wait a while.’
His companions were a little startled, for Bolingbroke was by nature an impulsive man.
‘In a short time,’ continued Bolingbroke, ‘he will become very exasperated. Then he will be of more use to us. It is worth while to wait for a time ... But we will continue to keep a close watch.’
The others agreed and during the months that followed they watched everything that happened to the Prince of Wales; they were waiting their time when they would approach him, let him know how badly he was being treated, and so make him the figurehead of the Opposition —not only to Walpole’s Ministry but to the King and Queen.
Regency
THE Queen was busily reading letters from Hanover. The King and Townshend, who was with him, must be kept in touch with foreign affairs, although domestic matters were left to Caroline and her Council. Townshend was growing jealous of Walpole’s alliance with the Queen; the two men were brothers-in-law for Townshend had married Walpole’s sister Dorothy who had been devoted to her brother and to her husband; she it was who had been in fact responsible for the great accord between the two men and had brought them to a partnership which had been profitable to them both. But with the death of Dorothy, which had brought a great grief to both men, the alliance had weakened. Townshend, a man of almost puritanical views, began to look with distaste on the life Walpole led: drinking with his friends down at Houghton, his coarse conversation, and living openly with Maria Skerrett while his wife was alive. Moreover, they were thinking along different lines politically.
Walpole had been glad to have Townshend out of the country, but there was a disadvantage to that, for being in close company with the King he might attempt to influence him; and without Caroline there to guide George, this could have disturbing results.
Caroline as usual was in complete accord with Walpole and agreed that Townshend must be carefully watched as it would not be difficult for him to drive a wedge between herself and the King.
George was writing long letters to her from Hanover. He was a good letter writer and in fact more fluent with the pen than verbally. It was true he wrote either in French or German which he spoke and wrote easily.
All was going well in Hanover. He had one regret which was that his dear Caroline was not with him. He wanted her to know that there would never be another woman who meant so much to him as his dear wife, and he often thought of the day when he had come courting her and fallen in love on sight—a state which had never changed with him.
He would not say that lie had not a mistress. The German women were different from the English. They were more docile. He had come to the conclusion that he was more honoured as an Elector than as a King. In England there was always the Parliament; in Hanover there was only the Elector. The English did not deserve to have a King. They wanted to govern themselves. So they set up a Parliament. He was heartily sick of parliaments. Here in Hanover he had his Council meetings, yes; he had his ministers; but he was the Elector and he would have his dear Caroline know that the Elector in Hanover was a far more respected person than the King of England.
Caroline paused for the letter was long; and she was thinking that the rhymes of the lampooners still rankled. In Hanover none would dare mock the Elector. It was a pity they had in England.
He went on to describe his latest mistress and all the intimate details of his love affair. How she wished he would have the tact to keep that to himself.
He was a man of great needs, as she knew. He must like most men have his mistresses, and now that he was a bachelor for a time that was necessary. She would understand that, for was there not complete understanding between his dear Caroline and himself? He had found a warm-blooded creature—’Plenty of flesh on her, my dear Caroline—you know our German woman—and she is so delighted to be noticed by the Elector. She trembles with joy every time I approach.’
Caroline sighed. This was too much. Let him at least keep the details to himself. She read on wondering what other revelations were to come.
The next communication was more startling. ‘Townshend thought we had given you too much power and wanted to curtail it. He was working out some scheme whereby the smallest matters should be sent for our approval before you could put them into action. I pointed out to him that I trusted my dear wife as I trusted no other. I told him he did not know how I had always taken you into my confidence, how I had kept you informed of all state matters and even discussed them with you. “No,” I said to Townshend, “if there is one person in England whom we can safely trust that is the Queen.”‘
There was no doubt that Townshend must be watched.
* * *
Walpole was a constant visitor, and when she disclosed the information that Townshend had tried to curtail her power, he became very thoughtful.
‘I think,’ was his comment, ‘that something must be done about my brother-in-law. He is becoming a nuisance.’ ‘You would have to be very careful.’
‘Your Majesty should have no fear.’
‘I am sure I can leave him in your capable hands.’
‘We must see what can be done when he returns from Hanover. In the meantime there is the Treaty of Seville with which to concern ourselves. And one matter of less importance, but one which we cannot ignore: This affair with the Portugu
ese government.’
Caroline nodded. She had been disturbed when she had heard that the Portuguese had put an embargo on a British ship which was lying in the Tagus. The whole world must know that Britain would not allow her ships in foreign ports to be so treated.
‘Let us deal with this matter immediately,’ she said. ‘Then we can give our attention to the Spanish Treaty.’
‘Your Majesty is right as usual. If we show ourselves firm with the Portuguese that will be to our credit in the other matter. We must take a firm line.’
‘Firm,’ agreed the Queen, ‘but friendly. I will send for the Portuguese envoy and together we will put the matter before him.’
* * *
The Queen’s handling of the Portuguese incident was effective. The Portuguese agreed to raise the embargo without delay and Townshend wrote that the King liked extremely what Her Majesty said to the Portuguese envoy.
Caroline was delighted, but she knew that the Spanish treaty was a far more delicate matter.
This treaty was calculated to end the conflict between Spain and England which had long had an adverse effect on English trade with America. Peace between the two countries would be an excellent prospect and desired by both sides, but there was one point in the treaty which required very careful handling. This concerned the Rock of Gibraltar. The English had captured this in 1704 and it was a matter of some dismay to Spaniards that the English should own this little portion of the Spanish mainland. However, it was a very important spot and Caroline and Walpole were most eager not to relinquish it.
It might, Walpole pointed out to her, be the one clause in the treaty which would cause the Spaniards to hesitate.
‘Townshend,’ he said, ‘is advising we give it up for the sake of the other concessions we shall receive.’
‘And your advice?’
He smiled: ‘I imagine that Your Majesty and I are in accord on this matter. I would say that we should do our utmost to retain it.’
‘Unless of course
Walpole nodded slowly.
‘You have raised it with the Spaniards?’ asked the Queen.
‘No.’
They smiled. ‘Then we will say nothing ... we will pretend the thought of Gibraltar has never entered our heads. It is just possible that we may conclude this treaty without its being mentioned.’
‘The Spaniards are most eager to conclude it.’
‘And so are we, but we will hide the fact.’
They were as usual in complete accord.
* * *
The Queen decided that all her family should accompany her to the house of Sir Robert Walpole in Chelsea to dine with her favourite minister.
It was the greatest honour in the world, Walpole had told her; and he had made all the arrangements himself.
These were pleasant days. If only George would stay in Hanover, if only the Queen reigned alone, how much simpler state affairs could be!
Between them—he and the Queen—they had successfully concluded the Treaty of Seville. William Stanhope, England’s Ambassador and Plenipotentiary in Madrid, had worked in close co-operation with Walpole and the Queen and as a result the Treaty had been completed without the loss of Gibraltar. In fact—as Walpole and the Queen had hoped—it was not mentioned by the Spaniards. This Caroline and Walpole regarded as their triumph and it was when this matter had been successfully concluded that the invitation to dine at Chelsea had been humbly tendered and graciously accepted.
Princess Anne was a little shocked. ‘Why,’ she said to Amelia and young Caroline, ‘our mother seems to forget that we are royal princesses. To dine at Chelsea ... in the home of Robert Walpole ... a commoner!’
‘Our mother thinks more highly of this commoner than she does of some princes,’ pointed out Amelia.
‘Oh Fred! Well, who would think anything of him?
I wish he would go back to Germany where he belongs.’
‘He belongs there no more than the rest of us.’
‘Amelia, you’re a fool!’
Caroline moved away as she always did when her sisters quarrelled. It was so disturbing; and in fact she found nothing to dislike in Frederick. She was sure that if they had been affable to him he would have been very ready to be so with them. But she never attempted to argue with her sisters.
Nov they were all assembled for the journey to Chelsea. The whole Court knew they were going and it was slyly said that if the King decided to stay in Hanover the Queen might invite Sir Robert Walpole to live permanently at the Palace. Why not—he ruled England—he and the Queen together.
Frederick said little, but he was less contented than he had been. Several of his friends had pointed out that they had never heard of a Prince of Wales being passed over for the sake of his mother. If his father died tomorrow he would be King, but he wasn’t considered worthy to be Regent in his absence!
It was a little strange, thought Frederick. And although he would have hated to be closeted for hours with that crude creature Walpole, poring over dull state papers, he was beginning to believe that he should have been offered the Regency.
It was rather pleasant to have a grievance. People were so sorry for him; they seemed to like him better for it. Moreover, his mother and father showed rather obviously that they didn’t greatly care for him, so why shouldn’t he gain a little popularity at their expense?
He glanced at his sister Anne who immediately scowled. Amelia was indifferent. Caroline might have been more pleasant but he thought her a dull little creature; as for his brother William he wanted to box his ears every time he saw him; and the little girls were nonentities.
He was not really very satisfied with his family.
When they reached Chelsea, Walpole was waiting to greet them.
He behaved as though this was the greatest honour that could befall him, but all his deference was directed towards the Queen; the rest of them were greeted very perfunctorily.
He had invited many guests for this glorious occasion, but the royal family were to dine in a room alone.
This pleased Anne who remarked to Amelia that it was no more than was right. Frederick was less pleased; he could think of much brighter company than that supplied by his own family; in fact he could think of few more dull.
The Queen however was delighted, for Sir Robert himself waited on them. He said it was not only the greatest of honours but the greatest of pleasures.
‘What a respecter of ceremony you are, Sir Robert! ‘ said the Queen with a laugh. ‘I had not expected to stand on such ceremony here in your home.’
‘Madam,’ he said, ‘no matter where, the Queen’s royalty must be maintained.’
How he delighted to serve her; and she delighted to be served!
Afterwards the candles were lighted and there was dancing. The Queen was pleased to look on. It was so comforting to rest her legs. None of the Princesses danced at first. Anne declined for them all for she considered it beneath their dignity; but the Queen implored Sir Robert to dance as she liked to watch the quadrille.
Frederick joined in and Anne scowled at him. How like him to curry favour! Everyone would now be saying that the Prince was more affable than his sisters.
The Queen was smiling and very gay. ‘Dancing becomes Sir Robert,’ she said. ‘How easily he moves! I should not have believed it possible. Ah, and there is Lord Hervey. Lord Hervey,’ she called, and he came and bowed to her.
‘I see you are not dancing, my lord.’ She turned to her daughters. ‘Now there is an excellent dancer. My lord, you should join the dancers.’
‘With Your Majesty’s permission it would give me greater pleasure to remain at your side.’
The Queen looked well pleased. Anne thought: This young man, who can at times look more like a woman than a man, is almost as great a favourite with her as Walpole himself.
‘I shall not give you permission,’ said the Queen. ‘Perhaps one of the Princesses will dance with you.’
Anne turned haughtily away. Amelia ha
d caught sight of the Duke of Grafton. But Caroline had half risen. So Lord Hervey could do no more than beg for the honour.
The Queen sat back in her chair. Such a pleasant day! She was still glowing with pleasure over the successful conclusion of the Spanish Treaty.
Fleetingly she thought of George in Hanover. She had a picture of him caressing some plump beauty, and hoped her charms would be enchanting enough to keep him there a little longer.
A strange thought for a wife to have of her husband, she reminded herself; and then laughed for why should she practise self deception? No good ever came of that.
* * *
Meanwhile George was very happy in Hanover. Here he was supreme ruler; and after all this was his native land. He was more of a German than an Englishman—a fact which because the case had been the same with his father he had preferred to forget. But now his father was dead and he could be himself.
Herrenhausen! Home of a hundred delights, with its glorious gardens, its linden avenue, its hornbeam hedges, its lawns and fountains. Here he instituted the same rules as he insisted on in England, but no one laughed at him here. The Germans were so much more serious than the English. One could not imagine them sitting in taverns composing so-called witty verses. No one would laugh if they did. No sly remarks, no disturbing lampoons; only deep respect for their Elector and eagerness to show their pleasure on his return.
Hanover was delightful.
The English in his retinue were a little restive, but much he cared for that! Let them be. They did not like a life that was governed by the clock. They did not appreciate the importance of time.
Another thing, here he spoke German and there could be no tittering about some quaint turn of phrase or the inability to pronounce certain words. It was he who would have the laugh of the English here, if he could be amused by such a triviality, which he could not. It was the English who were always finding something to laugh at and in particular the opportunity to ridicule others.
Caroline the Queen Page 11