by Cheyenne
Then he felt better. She would know that he had sincerely cared for her. Their
parting was a piece of folly which they should never have allowed to happen. He
could never be happy in life without her; and he wanted her to know this as she
would when his will was read after his death.
But he did not die.
In a few days’ time he had recovered from the excessive bleeding and the
fond colour was back in his cheeks.
————————
Caroline was happy. She had her baby and nothing else mattered. But there
was inevitably one fear which haunted her; what if they should take the baby from her? The Prince showed little interest in the child; her only importance to him was that she made it unnecessary for him to live with her mother.
‘What do I care for him!’ said Caroline. ‘If I can keep my baby, I care for no
one.’
Lady Jersey had hinted that the child would not be left under her control.
‘Let them try to take her away from me, cried Caroline clutching the child to
her breast. This made Lady Jersey smile her haughty condescending smile, and
Caroline felt she hated that woman almost as fiercely as she loved her child.
The christening took place at St. James’s, with the King, the Queen and the
Duchess of Brunswick (represented by the Princess Royal) as sponsors. The
Archbishop christened the little girl Charlotte Augusta.
‘Charlotte,’ laughed Caroline to Mrs. Harcourt, ‘after dear Grandmamma, the
Queen of England, and Augusta after my own mother. I hope my little girl will
resemble neither of them.’
Harcourt shrugged her shoulders. She was in duty-bound to report this to
Lady Jersey who in her turn would report it to Her Majesty and Caroline would
have advanced a little farther in the ill-favour of the Queen.
Yet, thought Mrs. Harcourt, Lady Jersey was perhaps not firmly established in
the good graces of the Prince. True, he was fascinated by the woman, but she had
heard that he repeatedly spoke— and with great longing— of Mrs. Fitzherbert and
now that that lady’s friends had persuaded her to take a house in Town and enter
Society, who knew what would happen? It was beginning to be said that if one
would please the Prince, one should invite Maria Fitzherbert. An old and familiar pattern which must make Lady Jersey uneasy, though she gave no sign of it and
seemed as confident as ever of her sway over the Prince.
The Princess Charlotte could one day be the Sovereign and therefore great
ceremonies should attend her birth, but the Prince was smarting under
Parliament’s methods of dealing with his debts and refused to receive the loyal
ceremonies planned by the City of London.
‘I am too poor,’ he announced, ‘to receive these loyal addresses in a manner
fitting to my rank. Therefore I would ask that the speeches ‘be written and
presented to me.’
The Aldermen of the City were incensed. The Prince might have his dignity
but theirs was as great. They could not depart from their old customs to please an impecunious prince. Therefore the ceremonies would not take place.
The City was indeed offended. The matter was discussed in the streets and the
coffee houses.
‘Can’t afford it! You know what this means? He knows that she will have to
receive the congratulations with him and he can’t bear to stand beside her while
she does so. He hates her. And why? Because he knows she’s not his true wife,
that’s why. He’s married to Maria Fitzherbert and he can’t abide this one.’
Why not? She was affable. She was German, it was true, but he was half
German himself in any case.
The Prince of Wales was more unpopular with the City of London than he had
ever been before. He was unhappy about this. He loathed the silences that greeted his carriage when he rode in the streets, and he thought longingly of those days of his youth when he was Prince Charming and everything he did was right. Then
they loved him and hated his father; but since the King’s bout of madness that had changed. Not that the King was so popular. Royalty was not beloved in this
changing world. There was the grim example from across the Channel always to
be remembered. Only last year there had been riots in Birmingham. Flour had
risen in price; a mob in Westminster had sacked the crimping houses; and the
windows of Pitt’s house in Downing Street had been broken. This was how
trouble had started in France.
In October, on his way to open Parliament, crowds had surrounded the King’s
carriage shouting that they wanted bread. Stones had been thrown at the King and
to his immense consternation, among them was a bullet.
There was no doubt about it. Royalty was not popular and it was unfortunate
that the French had shown the world their method of dealing with it.
The Prince shuddered; but he was completely immersed in his own affairs;
and his longing for Maria Fitzherbert surpassed any qualms he might have felt for the future of the Monarchy.
————————
The King was preparing to call on the Princess Caroline at Carlton House to
see his granddaughter, a journey of which the Queen could not approve, but His
Majesty was very worried about the situation between the Prince of Wales and his
wife.
‘He treats her very badly. No way to treat a wife, eh, what?’
The Queen replied that she was not altogether surprised. Caroline was
certainly an odd creature, and vulgar by all accounts. They could not expect
George— elegant, fastidious George— to enjoy living with a woman like that; it
had been a great mistake to bring her into the country and when they considered
that there was charming erudite Princess Louis whom he might have married!
The King’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Nice woman,’ he said. ‘Can’t see anything
wrong with her. Pretty hair, nice figure— eh, what?’ He was determined to show
her that at least one member of the royal family was on good terms with her.
Caroline received him affectionately, returned his kiss warmly, which
delighted him. He liked to be kissed by pretty women— and in his eyes Caroline
was pretty enough.
She sent for the child. What a lusty little creature!
‘He reminds me of her father when he was her age. You’d have thought then
there wasn’t a prettier baby in the world. Ah well! Very healthy little thing, eh?’
Caroline held her baby in her arms and the King’s eyes filled once more with
tears to contemplate her. He knew how she felt. He remembered his own feelings
They were so enchanting when they were young— and then they changed.
Amelia hadn’t changed. She was still his darling. She would never bring him
anxieties— except through her cough. He could not bear to think of Amelia’s
cough so he gave his attention to young Charlotte.
‘Like her father, he said gruffly. ‘And has he been to see you?’
‘Not to see me. I have not seen him since the birth. But he comes to see the
child.’
The King shook his head. ‘Bad,’ he said. ‘Bad. The people don’t like it.’
‘Well,’ cried Caroline with a shrill laugh, ‘my husband does not like me—
which seems even worse.’
‘Must stop, you know. Should live together. There should be others. Madame
/> Charlotte should have brothers and sisters, eh, what?’
Caroline shook her head. ‘He won’t, you know. He ignores me. I don’t exist
for him ‘
‘It’ll have to be stopped. He’ll have to do his duty.’
Caroline grimaced. ‘I don’t like being a duty much, Your Majesty.’
‘Ha,’ laughed the King. ‘Have to do your duty, you know. We all have to, eh,
what?’
‘Your Majesty should be telling him this— not me. I’m ready to live with
him. He’s the one who has made this separation.’
‘So you would welcome him, eh?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t say welcome— not unless he changed his ways. He would
have to treat me as a wife. He would have to recognize me as the Princess of
Wales. I won’t have that Jersey woman set up in my place while I’m treated as
though I were one of her servants, because that’s how it was. Oh no, I should not accept that.’
‘There’s no reason why you should,’ said the King. ‘Nor shall you. Leave this
to me. We cannot go on like this. It’s not natural, eh, what?’
Caroline agreed that it was not natural. But it was such a delight to have a
child of her own that she was prepared to forget everything else.
The Prince summoned the Master of His Royal Household and Cholmondeley
saw at once that he was in a rage.
‘What do you think, Cholmondeley? I have just been summoned by my father
and told that I must without delay do my duty as the husband of the Princess of
Wales.’
Cholmondeley sighed.
‘Well,’ cried the Prince, ‘what have you to say? What do you think? That I
should spend my life with that vulgar creature. Eh, what do you think,
Cholmondeley?’
‘I think,’ said Cholmondeley, ‘that it is something Your Highness would not
contemplate with pleasure.’
‘You’re right there, Cholmondeley. But I shall not contemplate it. I have no
intention of living with her. In the first place I loathe her; I find her the most repulsive object I ever set eyes on. And in the second place I do not accept the
fact that she is my wife.’
‘The Princess Charlotte—’
‘Oh, they have the heir. I’ve done my duty— all the duty I intend to do if it
concerns that creature. I am going to make this very clear to her and to everyone.
I wish you to go to her without delay and tell her my feelings.’
‘If Your Highness will tell me exactly what you wish I shall be happy to
comply with your instructions.’
‘Go to the Princess Caroline and tell her that I wish us to be formally
separated. We shall each go our own way and our affairs will be of no concern to
each other.’
Lord Cholmondeley looked uneasy but the Prince said peremptorily, ‘Go. Go
at once. I wish there to be no delay.’
————————
Caroline was in the nursery. In fact she rarely left it. She was like a
merchant’s wife, said Lady Jersey, with her first child. No one would believe she was a future Queen of England.
When she heard that Cholmondeley had brought a message from the Prince of
Wales she feared there would be an attempt to take her daughter from her. She
had visualized it a thousand times. A visit from an important member of the
Prince’s household; the order that the Princess Charlotte was to be conveyed to
some new residence and put under the care of a governess, and taken away from
her mother.
Her florid cheeks were a shade paler as she left the nursery and made her way
to the apartment where Lord Cholmondeley was waiting for her.
He bowed and she cried out impatiently: ‘Yes, yes what is it?’
‘I have a message from His Highness, the Prince of Wales.’
‘Well, that’s a change. It’s not often that he honours me with his messages.’
But the fear stayed with her, and her bravado could not entirely hide it.
‘His Highness has commissioned me to say that he wishes for a separation.
You and he shall be entitled to act according to your wishes and one shall have no duty to the other.’
Caroline’s relief was obvious. ‘That’s fair enough,’ she said. ‘I can tell you,
my lord, I’ll be as glad of it as he will. But one thing I do want to say is that I never wish to be forced to live with him as his wife again. I’d like to say this: I would agree to this separation provided this can be promised. Even if I lost my
daughter—’ She shivered involuntarily at the idea— ‘I would never wish to
resume marital relations with the Prince of Wales. If this could be promised, I
should be agreeable to what he suggests.’
‘I feel certain that this could be arranged, Your Highness.’
‘I should want a written agreement of this, you’ll understand.’
‘I doubt not that His Highness would be delighted to give it,’ replied Lord
Cholmondeley.
————————
In Windsor Castle, the Prince of Wales sat at his bureau and wrote to his wife.
30th April, 1796
Madam,
As Lord Cholmondeley informs me that you wish I would define in writing the terms upon which we were to live, I shall endeavour to explain myself upon that bead with as much clearness and as much propriety as the nature of the subject will admit. Our inclinations are not in our power, nor should either of us be held answerable to the other because nature has not made us suitable to each other. Tranquil and comfortable society is, however, in our power; let our intercourse, therefore, be restricted to that, and I will distinctly subscribe to the condition which you require that even in the event of any accident happening to my daughter, which I trust Providence in its mercy will avert, I shall not infringe the terms of the restriction by proposing, at any period, a connection of a more particular nature. I shall now finally close this disagreeable correspondence, trusting that as we have completely explained ourselves to each other, the rest of our lives will be passed in uninterrupted tranquility.
I am, Madam,
With great truth, very sincerely yours, George P.
He smiled at what he had written. There. That was the end and it was
amicable.
He sighed.
Never to have to be near her, never to have to touch her again.
He felt pleased with life.
————————
Caroline was almost as pleased when she received the letter.
She was the Princess of Wales, yet she was free. No more restrictions. She
was no longer accountable to her husband.
Let her keep her child, let her live her own life and she would be very
contented to have come to England. She answered the Prince in French, accepting
his terms with glee and telling him that she would never cease to pray for his
happiness, sent a copy of the letter to the King who came to see her on receipt of it.
‘So you think that you cannot live together?’
‘Your Majesty will know the Prince’s views on that.’
‘Never heard anything like it,’ said the King. ‘Heirs to the throne are not
expected to love their wives; only to have children.’
The two sometimes go together,’ suggested Caroline demurely and burst into
loud laughter.
The King did not seem to take this amiss but grumbled to himself: ‘Young
people— nowadays. When I was a young prince—’ Then he looked a little sad
and went on: ‘You should live under the same roof, eh, w
hat? It looks better. The people expect it.’
‘The people know the truth and I would not care to live under the same roof as
my husband.’
‘ H’m. Have to see about it. An income you’ll want, too. Wife of the Prince—
mother of the heir, eh, what?’
£20,000 a year, he was thinking. Have to consult Pitt. Why was it that this
family could not seem to live in peace together? And where would she live?
Carlton House, eh? For while in any case.
Children! What a worry! Better not to have them if it could be avoided. But of
course that was what they married for. The Prince of Wales had caused him as
many as ten sleepless nights in a row since he came of age— and went on doing it
too.
It was no use trying to bring them together if they had determined on parting.
————————
It was amazing how news of the Court reached the gossip columns; there was
a scandal about letters which had been written by the Princess of Wales to her
family, intercepted and taken to the Queen. The stealer of the letters was of course Lady Jersey.
Her name was in every paper; there were obscene verses and even pictures of
herself and the Prince, but the chief complaint against her was not so much that
she was the mistress of the Prince and flaunted her ascendancy over the Princess, but that she was all the time acting as the Queen’s spy, intercepting the Princess’s private correspondence and giving it into the hands of her enemies.
Caroline had managed to win public approval. Her affable smiles and obvious
pleasure in popularity delighted the people. Besides they had heard stories of her reception and they saw her as an injured woman. And why? Because of that
voluptuary, their Prince of Wales, whose debts and adventures with women were
a scandal; who had married the good and virtuous Maria Fitzherbert and
discarded her.
But even more unpopular was Lady Jersey.
The comments in the press made it impossible for Lady Jersey to ignore them.
Something would have to be done she told the complacent and long suffering
Lord Jersey and it was for him to defend his wife’s honour. His manners were too
graceful for him to as much as smile at this. He was in fact noted for his beautiful manners. What would his wife wish him to do? She had only to say.