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by Cheyenne


  Majesty King George III were not to comment on the lady’s charms, nor to give

  anyone any advice on the matter. His duty was solely to make an offer for the

  lady’s hand and to see that thereafter the arrangements concerning the betrothal

  were carried out in a correct manner.

  Poor Princess, thought Malmesbury. She had not much chance of keeping His

  Highness’s affections if she should ever gain them. He remembered how the

  Prince had come to him at the time when he was courting Maria Fitzherbert and

  had wanted to resign his hopes of the Crown and follow the lady to Europe.

  He had then advised a caution which His Highness had seen fit to adopt but

  by his tact and dignity had contrived to retain the Prince’s respect and friendship.

  He was in ct, like many people, fond of the Prince; but that did not prevent his

  being aware of the weaknesses of His Royal Highness and he could feel only pity

  for the young woman who was destined to marry him.

  Malmesbury was a diplomat by nature. He was a Whig in politics but at the

  same time a friend and confidant of the King’s; and while he served the King and

  attempted to bring lout an easier relationship between him and the Prince he

  remained the Prince’s friend— which was no small achievement.

  When he arrived in Brunswick he was welcomed warmly by the Duke and a

  palace of the late Duke Frederick was put his disposal. He was adequately

  supplied with servants which included three footmen, a valet, a concierge and two menials to guard the palace night and day. A carriage and horses were also put at his disposal; and everything was done to make him comfortable.

  A sign, he told himself, that my mission will be a success. He was at once invited to the Ducal Palace where he was presented to the Duchess and her

  daughter; and an audience with the Duke was arranged for a few days ahead when

  he could present to him his master’s proposals.

  The Duchess was a talkative woman and no stranger to him, for he had known

  her in England— and known her for being a meddler in affairs, a gossip and in

  many ways a foolish woman. According to his first observations she had not

  changed for the better. But he was not concerned with the mother nearly so much

  as with the daughter.

  Caroline. The future Princess of Wales and Queen of England! He saw a girl

  — no longer young— but pretty— though not softly so; her figure was not good;

  her legs were short though her bust was full and well-shaped; her eyes were

  pleasant; her hair fair, abundant and her best feature; her eyebrows were too light however and her teeth, though good, were already decaying. If she had been a

  little taller— if her teeth had been good—

  But this was how she was and he did not think the Prince, such a connoisseur

  of beautiful women, would be pleased with her. Malmesbury thought of the

  dazzling beauty of Perdita Robinson— one of the loveliest creatures to tread the

  stage. Maria Fitzherbert— perhaps less beautiful than Perdita, but with what

  dignity and of course great charm; and, Lady Jersey was another beauty, though

  much older than the Princess Caroline but everyone knew the Prince preferred

  grandmothers to virgins.

  An absurd jingle that he had heard somewhere came into his mind.

  I’ve kissed and I’ve prattled with fifty Grand Dames

  And changed them as oft, do you see.

  But of all the Grand Mammies that dance on the Steine

  The widow of Jersey give me.

  Yes, he was well known for his love of experienced women older than

  himself. So what was he going to think of this gauche creature whose background

  had been the somewhat backward Court of Brunswick? Malmesbury tried to

  picture Caroline at Carlton House or Marine Pavilion.

  The result was an immense pity for her. The Prince would find plenty to

  console him for disappointments.

  ————————

  At the Duchess’s dinner he sat on her right hand.

  ‘Such a pleasure,’ she sighed, ‘to see someone from England.’

  He had not, he reminded her, come straight from England. He had been in

  Berlin and Hanover.

  ‘But you are English and so am I, my lord. And never shall I forget it. My

  dear brother! I often think of him. And his terrible— terrible illness. So sad. But there is the dear Prince— my handsome nephew. I hear such reports of him.’

  Malmesbury looked disturbed, visualizing what that could mean.

  But she hurried on, ‘He is so fascinating, I hear. He leads the fashion. And

  Carlton House is a positive mine of treasure. They say he has the most excellent

  taste and is extremely clever.’

  It was not the moment of course to refer to the proposed match since he had

  not yet made the formal announcement to the Duke, but the Duchess managed to

  talk all round the subject and she made it quite clear that she was delighted.

  At the ball which followed he danced with the Princess. Close proximity

  brought a rather alarming discovery. She was clearly not meticulous regarding her personal cleanliness. A dreadful discovery. He thought of the Prince, with his

  scented linen, his frequent baths, and general fastidiousness. This could be a

  major calamity; and one which an ambassador such as himself could scarcely deal

  with, particularly when he had had the King’s instructions to offer no advice, but merely to set the negotiations in progress.

  Poor girl! he thought. And she is so clearly excited by the Prospect before her.

  In due course he was able to present the proposal to the Duke who received it

  with the utmost pleasure; and now there was no reason why the matter should not

  be discussed openly.

  ————————

  There was an air of intense excitement throughout the Court of Brunswick. As

  the days passed Malmesbury became more and more sorry for the Princess. When

  he had first met her he had believed that the Prince would turn from her in disgust and as the girl was obviously beginning to have romantic dreams about what

  awaited her in England. H e wanted to disillusion her without hurting her. Oddly

  enough he was growing fond of her. There was about her a naturalness that

  appealed to him. She had little restraint, he could see that; and she had a great deal to learn; but she was Intelligent and he believed would be able to grasp the position if it were presented to her. And who could present it to her? Who but

  Malmesbury.

  No, no. It was outside his duty as ambassador. But it was just possible that a

  little guidance might save her much unhappiness.

  He much deplored the influence of her mother who was flow beside herself

  with excitement. Her daughter the future Queen of England. It was one of the

  greatest positions any princess could aspire to, and to think that her Caroline after iii these years of waiting should have secured the prize.

  She prattled on to Malmesbury. ‘That it should be Caroline. But then why

  not? The King is my brother. So why should it not be Caroline? My brother was

  very fond of me before my marriage. Dear George! He was a very good man—

  kind hearted but not very wise. Alas! But he was always devoted to the family

  and particularly to his sisters. But of course that’s years ago and he married that woman. I never liked her. I am really afraid of how she will behave towards

  Caroline.’

  Malmesbury assured
the Duchess that the Queen would behave toward her

  daughter as a mother.

  ‘Ah, my lord,’ cried the Duchess, ‘you forget I know that I know that woman.

  I was at Court when they were married. I disliked her on sight and she hated me.

  My dearest mother, the Dowager Princess of Wales, shared my opinion of

  her. Do you know when she arrived she would have liked to lead George. My mother soon put a stop to that. Charlotte was immediately put in her place.’

  Malmesbury raised his eyebrows which were as far as he could go in

  expressing disapproval, while he wondered what effect such a mother must have

  had on her daughter.

  He tried to divert the conversation from Queen Charlotte but the Duchess

  was obsessed by her and insisted on continuing. All Malmesbury could do was

  reiterate: ‘I am sure Her Majesty will do what she considers her duty towards her daughter-in-law.’

  Conversations with the Duke were more helpful.

  ‘I am a little anxious about my daughter’s future,’ said the Duke. I have tried

  to impress upon her the importance of the position which will be hers. I have tried to make her aware of her responsibilities.’

  ‘The Princess will realize this when she arrives in England,’ replied

  Malmesbury.

  ‘I have talked a great deal to my daughter, constantly impressing on her that

  she is not going to England merely to dance at banquets and enjoy life. She will

  have great responsibilities. Perhaps Your Excellency could make her acquainted

  with what she should expect at the Court of England. I am sure that you can do so better than anyone.’

  Malmesbury bowed and said he would do everything in his power.

  He found conversations with Madame de Hertzfeldt the most illuminating.

  Here was a sensible woman who understood Caroline; and he had quickly

  realized that the Princess had more respect for this woman than for her own

  mother, although she was made uneasy by the ménage à trois. If Madame de

  Hertzfeldt had been the Princess’s mother, reasoned Malmesbury, his task might

  have been easier and the Princess might have been more ready to become Princess

  of Wales than she was now.

  ‘She is by no means unintelligent,’ Madame de Hertzfeldt told him, ‘though

  not exactly clever. She is good-hearted— very good hearted; but she has a quick

  temper and is completely without tact.’

  Malmesbury looked grim and the lady, hurried on: ‘But she would respond to

  kindness. She wants affection— she needs it. She is very fond of children. In fact her love of them mounts to a passion. I believe that if she can have children, she will be happy and the union will be a success.’

  ‘Madame,’ replied Malmesbury, ‘I can speak frankly to you. What I fear is

  the first impression. You have heard rumours of our Prince and your knowledge

  of the world will have given you some indication of what sort of man he is. He is a leader of fashion. He has been called the First Gentleman of Europe. I can say to you that I fear he may find the Princess somewhat lacking in that— er— charm—

  and shall I say mystery— which he expects in a woman.’

  ‘I understand perfectly Your Excellency’s meaning and I fear with you. I am

  fond of Caroline. But the situation here—’ She spread her hands and Malmesbury

  nodded sympathetically. ‘We have tried to do what we thought best for her— the

  three of us. But in the circumstances it has not been easy. The children of the

  marriage are all— unusual.’

  Malmesbury nodded sympathetically.

  ‘I think one would have to be a little strict with Caroline. She has been

  allowed a great deal of freedom, perhaps too much. And she is of course no

  longer a young girl So that it is difficult to impose it now. I think she needs a great deal of advice and it will have to be given frankly.’

  ‘You, Madame?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. It is not easy— in my position.’

  ‘Her father perhaps?’

  ‘She is very fond of him, admires him greatly but she is afraid of him. She

  hides this but it is there. She feels he is a little severe. It is because he has tried to impose some discipline which has been lacking in other directions.’

  ‘Not her mother!’ cried Malmesbury in alarm, visualizing the blundering

  effects that lady’s garrulous advice might have.

  Madame de Hertzfeldt smiled reassuringly.

  ‘No, most certainly not the Duchess. I speak with complete frankness. Your

  Excellency understands because I consider this matter of vital importance. The

  Princess has no respect whatsoever for her mother. In fact I have seen a faraway

  look come into her eyes when her mother speaks to her and I know she does not

  listen to half that is said. There is only one person at this Court who can help the Princess. And that is you, Your Excellency.’

  Malmesbury was taken aback. ‘Madame, I have had instructions from my

  royal master that my sole duty is to make these arrangements.’

  She nodded rather sadly. ‘Your duty to your King, Excellency. But what of

  your duty to this poor blundering girl? You see her as she is. You know the man

  who will be her husband. Will you not put out a restraining hand to stop her

  plunging headlong to disaster?’

  ‘Madame, you put the case very strongly.’

  ‘Am I wrong then, Excellency? You know the Prince of Wales. I can only

  judge by hearsay.’

  He was silent for a few moments; then he said: ‘It would exceed the duties

  laid down to me by my King but—’

  Her face was illuminated by a smile and he thought: She is a beautiful

  woman. And a wise one. What a sad fate for our poor Princess that this woman

  was not her mother.

  ‘I will do what I can,’ he said, ‘to prepare the Princess for what she will find

  at the English Court.’

  ————————

  In her apartments Caroline was talking to Mademoiselle Rosenzweig who

  listened attentively. She was a clever woman who spoke English fluently and it

  was for this reason that the Duke had selected her to serve the Princess in the role of secretary and that it had been planned that she should accompany Caroline to

  England.

  ‘He is such a charming man,’ Caroline told her secretary. ‘If he were just a

  little younger, I could almost wish he were the Prince of Wales. He is so kind.

  And do you ‘know I think he- likes me quite a lot. Sometimes he looks at me

  almost sadly. Why do you think that is? Is it because he is wishing he were the

  Prince of Wales? Wouldn’t that be odd? Suppose the ambassador were to fall in

  love with me.’

  Caroline seated herself on her bed and rocked herself to and fro in her

  merriment.

  Mademoiselle Rosenzweig remembered the instructions she had received

  from Madame de Hertzfeldt to curb as much as possible the Princess’s frivolity,

  and said: ‘Scarcely odd, Your Highness, but a little inconvenient to the gentleman perhaps. I am sure your father would not think, it seemly to speak of such a

  supposition, even if it were true.’

  ‘Dear prim Rosenzweig! But you are right to be prim.’ She laughed aloud.

  Then she was sober. ‘I shall try to be more serious, dear Madam Secretary. I

  really shall. And if I am a good wife I shall be rewarded by— children. I want lots of them. Ten would be a pleasant number, do you not think so? Wicked old


  Queen Charlotte had fifteen I discovered the other day. Two of them died. But

  thirteen, that is quite a quiverful, is it not?’

  ‘Perhaps it is also unseemly to discuss this matter,’ suggested Mademoiselle

  Rosenzweig.

  ‘How fortunate that you are here to remind me, my dear. But I must not call

  you my dear. It is too familiar. I have to remember all the time that I am to be the Princess of. Wales. I shall start practising now. So don’t expect any more

  familiarity. Oh, I am so glad you are coming with me. It won’t be quite so

  strange, if I have some of my own people around me. And dear Lord Malmesbury

  will be there. Do you know, my dear— I must not, must I? But you are my dear

  you know— so I shall say it when we are alone— I am looking forward in a way

  to leaving Brunswick.’

  ‘It is time you married.’

  ‘Time indeed. I am no longer a child, am I? I have had mach charming letters

  from the Prince of Wales. He writes— beautifully— in German and in French and

  I expect in English— if I could understand it. Such rounded phrases. I am filled

  with admiration. I am marrying a very clever man, dear Rosenzweig.’

  ‘The Prince of Wales is noted for his erudition.’

  ‘It is a pity I have not more.’

  ‘Your Highness will acquire it.’

  ‘You are beginning to talk like my dearest Malmesbury. I hear my uncle the

  King is a good kind man. I love him already. Yet— I am afraid Rosenzweig—

  very much afraid.’

  The gay mood had passed and Caroline’s expression reflected her

  melancholy. ‘I esteem and respect the Prince of Wales, but I cannot love him with ardour yet, can I?’

  ‘You will not be expected to. That will grow.’

  ‘Dear, dear Malmesbury, for you sound just like him!’

  She stood up and drawing herself to her full height clasped her hands together

  and tried to draw her features into an expression resembling Lord Malmesbury’s.

  She said in a voice which was a fair imitation of his: Your Highness cannot be expected to feel passion as yet, but that will come. That will come. And you will in due course— but in due course, Your Highness, have your ten children.

  ‘Ah, but I should not poke fun at his dear lordship, should I, for I love that

  man. I do really. Ah, if he were but my Prince of Wales— But he is a little old,

 

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