‘I know of his great desire to have children and I believe him capable of anything to get the Princess with child. He was so anxious to be thought the father of Miss Vane’s child—over anxious—and although you have perjured yourself by assuring me it was not so, yet I am sure that had he asked you to get a child for him.... Pray, hold your tongue. I do not want to listen to any more lies on this subject.’
‘I was not going to comment on that,’ said Lord Hervey, boldly interrupting her. ‘But suppose it were true. There is a difference between asking a man to lie with one’s mistress and asking him to lie with one’s wife. The Princess would have to be in the secret in order to reach a satisfactory conclusion.’
‘I am sure if you undertook it you could contrive it, though I don’t know how you could bring it about without her knowledge.’
Such a possibility delighted the devious imagination of Hervey. ‘If the Prince had consummated his marriage it would be possible,’ he said. ‘But if he hadn’t, that would be very difficult ... nay, impossible.’
‘Now suppose you were both willing, how could you, without her knowledge, go to bed with her in his place?’
‘It would be simple.’
‘My God, tell me how.’
‘Well, for a month before the time I would advise the Prince to go to bed several hours after his wife and to pretend to get up several times during the night and then to scent himself with some powerful scent. He would have to accustom her to his silences in bed and then the man who would be same size as the Prince would go into her in his place.’
The Queen laughed. ‘You are ingenious, Lord Hervey, and I love you mightily, but if I thought you would get a little Hervey by the Princess of Saxe-Gotha to disinherit my dear William, I could not bear it, nor do I know what I should be capable of doing.’
‘Your Majesty need have no fear. I am the last man with whom the Prince would enter into such a compact. And my dear great good Queen, you must cease to fear on this score. The Prince would never make such a request to any man.’
‘I think he is capable of it,’ replied the Queen. ‘He would hate to be thought impotent and I think he would go to any lengths to foist a child on us.’
‘No man would enter into such a bargain, Your Majesty. The risks would be too great. No sum of money would be large enough to compensate a man for taking such a risk, for who knows, with such a secret he might easily be found too dangerous to be allowed to live.’
‘He would have the honour of being the father of a King.’
‘In secret, Madam. Vanity has little to feed on in private. It is only in public that it shines. Suppose I had the honour to be born Your Majesty’s son.’
‘I wish to God you had,’ said the Queen with vehement affection.
‘Your Majesty is very kind, but if it were so and I believed any man other than the King was my father I should never act as though I believed it. But, Madam, this is a little play we are making. It may be that the Prince is impotent, in which case the way is clear for His Highness of Cumberland. But if he is not, then the Princess Augusta, even if she is not now with child, may well be one day—and we must make the best of it.’
‘You are right,’ said the Queen; ‘but I fret on this point; and I pray you, if you should hear any rumour as to the Prince’s capabilities or the true state of the Princess, tell me without delay.’
‘My dear Majesty may rely on me now as ever.’
‘I know, I know,’ said the Queen. ‘You are my comfort in this troublous realm.’
* * *
When the King wrote that he would not be back for his birthday, Walpole was seriously disturbed.
He came to see the Queen immediately.
‘This is the first time he has failed to come home for his birthday,’ he said. ‘He knows the seriousness of this. There will be comment and he does not care. This is significant.’
The Queen agreed that it was.
‘It means, of course, that he will not leave Madame de Walmoden.’
‘Then ...’ The Queen spoke almost sharply. ‘He must stay with her.’
‘Madam, if he does he will not stay King of England.’ ‘Then what ...’
‘There is murmuring in the streets already. He was never so unpopular as he is now. More and more people are looking to the Prince. I tell you this can be disastrous ... not only for the King, but for the House of Hanover.’
‘I know it,’ said the Queen.
‘There is a way out.’
‘Pray what?’ asked Caroline.
‘You must invite Madame de Walmoden to the Court.’
‘Invite her ... here?’
‘It is the only way. Here she will be to the King what Lady Suffolk was. It is the only way.’
‘I refuse,’ cried the Queen.
‘Your Majesty should consider the alternative. I would feel more comfort from knowing that woman was under our own roof than keeping the King in Hanover.’
‘I will not have that woman here.’
‘Doubtless Your Majesty will wish to consider this matter. We will talk of it later.’
* * *
When Walpole had gone the Queen went to her apartments and refused to see anyone.
This is too much, she told herself. I won’t endure it. It’s bad enough to read about her ... but to hear him talk day after day of her charms, of her reactions to his passion.... Oh, my God, I won’t have it.
She was surprised to find that there were tears on her cheeks. It is too much, she thought. Frederick, the riots, the unpopularity, Augusta’s pregnancy, real or trumped up, and this nagging pain, this awful forboding which envelopes me.
She covered her face with her hands and suddenly she was aware that she was not alone. She dropped her hands. Lady Sundon was standing watching her.
‘I ... did not send for you.’
‘I sensed Your Majesty needed me. May I help you to bed.’
The Queen felt suddenly defeated. There was no point in pretence now. Lady Sundon knew.
‘Come, come,’ she said, dropping ceremony and talking as though the Queen were a beloved but wilful child. ‘You should be in bed. Allow me to help Your Majesty.’
‘Oh, Sundon,’ said Caroline, ‘I’m so ... tired.’
‘I know, Madam. And ... the pain has been bad today.’
‘You knew.’
Lady Sundon went to her knees and kissed the hands. ‘I always know, Madam. My heart bleeds.’
‘Oh, get up, Sundon.’ She laughed. ‘It’s folly to lie to you. You know, don’t you?’
‘Yes, Your Majesty. I know.’
‘He knows ... Sundon. He knows too.’
‘His Majesty?’
‘Yes. He suspected long ago when it first started after Louisa’s birth. I told him it would pass. It often happens. He believed me. He wanted to believe me. He always wants to believe we are all well, Sundon.’
‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
‘And he never spoke of it again and I pretended that it was not there. Oh ... but the pain, Sundon.’
‘I know, Your Majesty.’
‘And then when he came home from Hanover he was aware of it. He mentioned it and I was angry... . So rarely am I angry with him that I alarmed him. I said he was tired of me, that he made this the excuse....’
‘Oh, Madam, Madam.’
‘He swore he wasn’t, that he never would be. But he is, of course, Sundon. He is. Why am I telling you this? Why ... why ... when I have kept silent all these years. You have known. The secret has been there, Sundon, all these years.’
‘But safe, Madam, I have never breathed a word ... never betrayed by a look.’
‘I know it.’
‘Nor will I ever without your permission.’
‘My dear, good friend.’
‘But I am afraid. The time has come when you should tell the doctors.’
‘Tell the doctors! Never. It has been our secret ... and so shall it remain. I should never have told you if you had not guessed. An
d thank you ... for keeping silent.’
‘Your Majesty, I would serve you with my life but I know there should be no more of this secret.’
‘There will always be this secret. Remember that, Lady Sundon.’
‘As Your Majesty wishes.’
‘Oh, what has come over me tonight. I am behaving like a fool. I talk too much of other things because I am wounded ... deeply wounded. The King will not be home for his birthday.’
‘Oh, no, Madam!’
‘Yes, it is so. He cannot tear himself away from Madame de Walmoden.’
‘Oh, Madam.’
‘So, Sir Robert Walpole thinks we should ask her here. The King will not live without her and it seems the House of Hanover cannot live as rulers of England without the King. It is all very simple, Lady Sundon.’
‘But Your Majesty will never receive that woman here.’
‘So I tell Sir Robert.’
‘I should think so! What next! How dare that man! He is so coarse and crude himself that he expects everyone else to be the same.’
‘He tells me that I shall change my mind.’
‘Your Majesty will not.’
The Queen looked sadly at Lady Sundon.
‘Help me to bed,’ she said. ‘I am utterly weary.’
* * *
When the King received the Queen’s letter inviting Madame de Walmoden to England, he was delighted.
‘You know well my passions, my dear Caroline [he wrote]. You know my weaknesses and that I hide nothing in my heart from you. How I wish that I could be more like you for I so admire you. How I wish that I could be good and virtuous like you but you know my passions and my weakness....’
My God, thought the Queen, so I do.
He went on to tell her how enchanted she would be with Madame de Walmoden’s beauty. She would quickly understand why he took such pleasure in this lady and she herself would be happy contemplating his happiness. He wanted her to have the lodging Lady Suffolk used to have. ‘That would be most convenient for me to visit her, my dear Caroline.’
Caroline showed Walpole the draft of the letter she had written to Madame de Walmoden.
He was delighted with it.
‘A masterpiece,’ he said.
‘A humiliating masterpiece,’ retorted Caroline.
* * *
It was impossible to keep secret the knowledge that Madame de Walmoden was coming to England. The Prince’s friends soon discovered it and decided to make the most of it.
It was discussed through the Court and the city. When is the King coming back?
Soon now. He has permission to bring the Walmoden with him. He was staying away until that permission was given. Now the Queen and Walpole are letting the little boy have his own way.
The people in the streets were less polite.
One morning the Princess Caroline, her cheeks flushed with rage, brought a paper into the room where her mother was having breakfast.
‘It was attached to the palace gates,’ she said.
The Queen read:
‘Lost or strayed out of this house a man who has left a wife and six children on the parish; who ever will give any tidings of him to the churchwardens of St James’s parish, so that he may be got again, shall receive four shillings and sixpence reward. N.B. This reward will not be increased, nobody judging him to deserve a crown.’
The Queen flushed slightly and went on drinking her chocolate.
* * *
The Prince of Wales riding in his carriage through the city with the Princess saw the crowd gathered round an old horse with a dilapidated saddle on its back.
He stopped his coach and asked if there had been an accident.
When he was recognized he was cheered, for the people wanted to show him that anyone who was an enemy of the King was their friend.
Then he saw the notice attached to the horse.
‘Let nobody stop me, I am the King’s Hanoverian Equipage going to fetch His Majesty and his whore to England.’
The Prince read this in a loud voice and laughed heartily at which the people cheered him more than ever; and they followed him back to St James’s shouting, ‘God Bless the Prince of Wales and let his father stay in Hanover’.
Caroline was disturbed by these public demonstrations of disapproval.
‘What will happen when the King sets foot in England with that woman?’ she demanded. ‘There’ll be a revolution.’
‘Have no fear,’ smiled Walpole. ‘She’ll never come.’ ‘But ... you suggested I should ask her.’
‘Ask her by all means, but I have a strong feeling that she will not come. My brother has always been of the opinion that she would not come.’
Walpole was smiling. It had been a wise move to send his brother, Horace, to Hanover with the King. He was sure then of hearing all he should know.
‘She’s no fool, this Walmoden. She realizes that her position as the Lady of Hanover to be visited as a special treat puts her in a far happier position than she would be in if she lived in this country. My brother tells her of the life poor Lady Suffolk led. She wants none of that. No, she will find excuses when the time comes. Your Majesty will never have to receive Madame de Walmoden in England.’
‘I hope you are right,’ said the Queen. ‘I admit to profound relief. And if she will not come, what of the King. Will he decide to stay with her?’
‘That is something he cannot do. He will have to return very soon.’
* * *
The King continued to postpone his departure; but Madame de Walmoden as Walpole had said, found excuses for not coming to England. She assured him of her fidelity; he must promise to return to her soon; but she could not come to England. She felt that it would jeopardize the King’s position if she did. That, she declared, was her sole reason.
In vain did the King plead. She was determined. She would not imperil his crown; rather would she grieve for him in Hanover and hope and pray that he would soon return to her.
The King gave a farewell ball and then another and another.
December had come and he was still in Hanover.
The Queen wrote to him that she had alarming news of Anne, the Princess of Orange, who was preparing for her confinement which threatened to be a difficult one. Perhaps he would call at the Hague on the way back. He would still have time before the weather became too bad.
But the King could not bear to leave Hanover and he gave another farewell supper and by that time it was the 7th of December and he dared not delay longer than that. for in a few weeks the weather could grow so bad that he might not be able to leave until the spring.
The Queen waited for his coming, for she had now heard that he had definitely left Hanover and once he had she knew he would travel with all speed.
* * *
The weather turned stormy and the wind howled through the Palace. News came from the coast towns of storm damage; but there was no news of the King.
Caroline was alarmed. If he had put to sea he might well be drowned, for how could any ship survive in the storms which were sweeping the seas?
The King’s name was on every lip throughout the country. Where was he? Why was there no news of him? He must be drowned ... drowned coming from his whore, said the people, with all his sins on him.
The Prince of Wales showed no regret, but he gave himself airs; he was receiving more attention than he had ever received before. The general opinion was that he was in fact no longer Prince of Wales but King of England.
The Princess Amelia went about tight-lipped. If Frederick were King there would be changes. The Princess Caroline frankly declared her horror. This was the worst thing that could possibly happen to them. Fred would have no respect for any of them. He would humiliate them in every way he could think of ... particularly Mamma. William was making secret plans, wondering how he could discredit Fred and take the throne from him.
And the Queen waited for news and thought of him, the little man who had lived so close to her for so many
years, who had snubbed her and bullied her and had declared always that he loved her. What would she do without him? Did she love him? How could she love one who humiliated her as he did, who so recently had planned to subject her to the greatest humiliation of all, who told her the intimate details of his love affairs because he believed she loved him so much that she was delighted to hear them? He was obtuse; he had no love for the things of the mind which once had been so precious to her; he was a silly little man, a bad-tempered, vain, little man—and yet to lose him would be like losing part of herself.
* * *
The Prince of Wales came to see the Queen.
He could not hide his delight, so she knew he brought bad news.
‘I have a letter which I think you should see, Madam,’ he said. ‘It is from a friend at Harwich who a few days after that when we believe the King must have set sail, heard distress signals fired at sea. There can be no doubt that these came from some ships of the King’s fleet.’
‘There must have been many ships at sea on that day,’ said the Queen, reading the letter.
‘Not many, Madam. I am convinced that this was one of the King’s fleet and that we must reconcile ourselves to his loss.’
‘I do not think—in that unhappy event—you will have much difficulty,’ said Caroline coldly; and she turned away indicating that the interview was at an end.
* * *
But by the end of that day a messenger arrived with a letter from the King.
The messenger had been several days at sea in a fearful storm, but the King wanted the Queen to know that he had not set sail as arranged and was awaiting a good wind at Helvoetsluys.
The Prince’s discomfiture was as obvious as the Queen’s delight. But the position was very quickly in reverse, for no sooner had the King set sail than a storm came up more violently than ever and now there could be no doubt that the King was drowned.
Caroline the Queen Page 37