o b464705202491194

by Cheyenne

  The Duke of York came to see her. His brother’s first act as Regent had been

  to reinstate him as Commander-in-Chief of the Army and as he was popular and

  had been exonerated from guilt in the Mary Anne Clarke scandal, there was no

  public objection to this. He was fond of Maria and deplored the rift between her

  and the Prince. She must go to the fête, he told her. People would notice if she

  were not there. The people accepted her; did she not know that?

  ‘Oh what use is the people’s acceptance if my husband repudiates me.’

  Frederick remonstrated with the Prince who repeated what Lady Hertford had

  suggested. Maria must not take such a prominent place now that he was Regent,

  he pointed out. It was all very well for him when Prince of Wales to have a

  Catholic wife, but the people would not tolerate their Regent— who was in all but name their King— having one.

  She would have to accept this for the future.

  To this, Maria replied that she never would. But she did not prevent the ladies

  of her household going to the fête and even provided them with new dresses so

  that they could do so in style.

  The fête was very splendid. The Regent in scarlet and gold lace was a brilliant

  figure wearing the garter and diamond star. The state apartments were hung with

  blue velvet embroidered with the fleur-de-lis in honour of the French visitors; the gowns of the women— the costumes of the men, their glittering jewellery—

  nothing had been seen to rival this for years.

  But there were the inevitable malicious whispers.

  ‘Doesn’t His Highness look grand? And how odd! He is a Regent with two

  wives— both of whom have stayed at home.’

  ————————

  Maria knew this to be the end. She was not going to be relegated to the

  position he had planned for her.

  It was necessary for political reasons, he said; and she granted this. But it was also necessary for personal reasons? Lady Hertford wished it. That was what

  decided Maria.

  ‘After all,’ she said, ‘perhaps we should be happier without him.’

  ‘Oh, Maria!’

  ‘I should have said: Perhaps I shall. The uncertainties of the last years have

  been unbearable at times. I am never sure of him. I cannot go on like that. I am his wife. I refuse to be regarded as his mistress. I am fifty-five years old. Surely that’s an age when one should have some dignity. And I have dearest Minney and you. I

  shall step quietly out of his life.’

  And this she proceeded to do. He was uneasy and unhappy when he thought

  of her, but the chase for Lady Hertford must go on— it had always been so with

  him. The woman he was pursuing was always the all important factor in his life.

  Maria was Maria. He would always regard her as his wife and did not wish to

  lose her. He wanted her always there in the background, to come back to be

  comforted when he needed it. But Maria was proud— she had more regality than

  any member of the royal family— and this time Maria said no.

  The Duke of York remonstrated with him. He must settle Maria’s debts which

  had been incurred on his account; he must see that she was well provided for. It

  was to be an honourable settlement.

  This, the Prince was ready to do.

  ‘If you only knew, Fred, I don’t want her to go. If only she would be

  reasonable.’

  But his idea of reason was not Maria’s.

  It was over. She would never go back to him again, she promised herself, no

  matter how much he insisted. She had finished with him.

  She was a wealthy woman— she had no debts and there would be no

  occasions to incur them in future. She had her dearest Minney and she would

  make the care of this beloved adopted daughter her life.

  ‘We will manage very well without him,’ she told Miss Pigot.

  And this time Miss Pigot knew that she meant it.

  ————————

  Caroline had a detailed account of the fête at Carlton House, all the glitter and splendour.

  ‘I should have been there, she said, faintly regretful, and for a moment gave

  herself up to contemplating what a life she might have had if the Prince of Wales had not taken such a dislike to her when he had first seen her. Wife to the Regent!

  Yes, it might have been good fun! She laughed at the description of him in his

  splendid uniform.

  Imagine him— well-corseted! But what’s the good of corsets for a paunch

  like that.’

  Then she started to laugh but was soon melancholy again.

  ‘One of her moods,’ said Lady Charlotte to Mrs. Fitzgerald.

  ‘And poor Maria Fitzherbert, she was not there either,’ murmured the

  Princess. ‘I’m sorry about that. Oh, what a fool he is. He’s chasing that woman

  and she’ll never be his mistress. She’s too cold. She doesn’t care for him, only for the Regency. He is a stupid man, my fat husband. And the most stupid thing he

  ever did was to part from Maria Fitzherbert She’s his true wife— not me. He’s a

  great big fat fool to have broken with her!’

  Then she started to laugh and Lady Charlotte tiptoed away to make an account

  of this in her diary.

  Persecutions

  A DRAMATIC incident suddenly and most unexpectedly robbed Caroline of her

  most influential supporter.

  The Prince Regent had not made any changes in the Ministry although his

  Whig friends confidently expected him to. When the Duke of Portland had died,

  Spencer Perceval had become Prime Minister, although many had supposed this

  plum would fall to Canning; and during those first months of the Regency,

  Perceval remained in office. The Regent was watching the King’s progress which

  fluctuated a great deal, and the doctors told him that there were days when His

  Majesty was almost lucid. The Prince had no desire to make a change which the

  King, if he recovered, would immediately rescind; for this reason he was prepared to wait a while.

  Perceval made no secret of his belief that the Princess of Wales had been ill-

  treated; and while he remained as the head of the Government, the Prince did not

  change his attitude in any way towards Caroline. As long as she kept out of his

  way he appeared to be content.

  Then one afternoon in May as Perceval was going into the House a man

  stepped up to him, placed a pistol against his heart and fired. Perceval dropped to the ground— dead.

  It had happened so quickly and seemed so pointless.

  When the murderer was caught he proved to be a madman named John

  Bellingham who had recently come from Russia where he had been arrested for

  some small misdemeanour. He had appealed to the English ambassador there and

  as nothing had been done to help him, he blamed the government. His revenge

  was to shoot the Prime Minister.

  About a fortnight after the death of Perceval, the London crowds turned out

  in their thousands to see Bellingham hanged. It was quite a spectacle.

  Caroline was desolate, for she knew she had lost a good friend.

  After the assassination of Perceval, Lords Wellesley and Moira had attempted

  to form a government and when they failed to do so, the Earl of Liverpool became

  Prime Minister. Caroline very quickly became aware of the change in her

  fortunes.

  One of her greatest compensations was the affection her daughter
felt for her,

  and the weekly visits to Charlotte were the highlights of her life. Charlotte was now a very forthright sixteen, and being aware that she was the heiress to the

  throne was not inclined to be forced to anything that she did not want. She was a great favourite with the people and everywhere she went she was cheered.

  How different it was with the Regent! He was met by sullen silences and the

  occasional booing. The people took up the case of Charlotte and Caroline, and the general opinion was that the Regent was not only a bad husband but a cruel

  father. They laughed at his elegance, and his corpulence was exaggerated in all

  the cartoons. If he had remained faithful to Maria Fitzherbert they would have had some respect for him. But he was constantly in the company of Lady Hertford

  whose frigid manners assured her an unpopularity to match his own.

  It was irritating to him to be given continual proof of the people’s affection

  for his wife and daughter; and in a petulant mood he ordered that Caroline and

  Charlotte, instead of meeting once a week, should meet only once a fortnight.

  Caroline was furious.

  ‘Oh, what a wicked man he is! What harm are we doing him by meeting? My

  little Charlotte will be upset, too. Does he think I will endure this? He will see.’

  Charlotte was at Windsor and the Queen and the Princesses were also in

  residence, so Caroline wrote to the Queen telling her that she intended visiting

  Windsor to see her daughter.

  A cool note from Her Majesty informed her that it was the Regent’s wish that

  the Princess Charlotte’s lessons should not be disturbed; therefore it would not be possible for Caroline to see her if she came to Windsor.

  This threw Caroline into a violent rage. ‘Does the old Begum think that she is

  going to keep me from my daughter? Charlotte hates her— always has! Why I

  remember when she was little her saying: The two things I hate are apple-pie and Grandmamma. That shows, does it not? And she has not changed. She still hates apple-pie and Grandmamma. And this is the woman who will keep me from her. I

  am going to Windsor, old Begum or not.’

  Lady Charlotte asked timidly if Her Highness thought that wise in view of the

  Queen’s letter.

  ‘Dear Lady Charlotte, I am not concerned with the wisdom!’ Caroline cried.

  So to Windsor she went. But the visit was not a success. The Queen received

  her coldly.

  ‘I fear,’ she said, ‘that you cannot see the Princess Charlotte. We have to obey

  the Regent’s orders, do we not?’

  ‘I am going to see her.’

  The Queen looked surprised. ‘Perhaps I have not made it clear that these are

  the Regent’s orders.’

  Caroline cried: ‘I’ll find her. I’ll see her. You’ll not keep

  me from my own

  daughter.’

  The Queen looked horrified. What could one do with a woman who was so

  ignorant of the respect and homage due to the Crown?

  ‘I beg of you to leave, she said coldly. ‘I am sure you do not wish me to have

  you taken away.’

  And something in the coldness of her manner made Caroline realize how

  powerless she was. The Queen could call her servants, or even the guards to have

  her forcibly removed. There was nothing she could do, but return fuming to

  Blackheath.

  ————————

  As soon as she returned to Blackheath she sat down and wrote a letter:

  Sir,

  It is with great reluctance that I presume to intrude upon Your Royal Highness and to solicit your attention to matters which may, at first, appear rather of a personal than of a public nature—

  There is a point beyond which a guiltless woman cannot with safety carry her forbearance. If her honour is invaded, the defense of her renutation is no longer a matter of choice; and it signifies not whether the attack be made openly, manfully and directly— or by secret insinuation, and by holding such conduct towards her as countenances all the suspicions that malice can suggest—

  I presume, sir, to suggest to Your Royal Highness, every succeeding month that the separation, which every succeeding month is making wider, of the mother and the daughter, is equally injurious to my character and to her education. I say nothing of the deep wounds which so cruel an arrangement inflicts on my feelings.’

  She went on to write of the implications of such a decree but she signed

  herself:

  Your Royal Highness’s most devoted and most affectionate Consort, Cousin and Subject, Caroline Amelia.

  This letter she had delivered to the Prime Minister, Lord Liverpool, with the

  request that he should hand it to the Prince Regent. The Prime Minister returned

  the letter unopened the following day with a covering note.

  His Royal Highness has stated that he will receive no communication from Your Highness and sees no reason why he should change that decision.

  ‘Very well,’ cried Caroline, ‘I will publish this letter that the people may read it.’

  Shortly after it appeared in the Morning Chronicle.

  ————————

  This naturally had its repercussions in the fury of the people against the

  Regent and their increased sympathy towards Caroline. But this, the Regent

  ignored, and Caroline received a letter from Lord Liverpool in which he said that in view of the publication of the letter, the Prince Regent had commanded that her next meeting with the Princess Charlotte should be cancelled.

  But the mood of the people and the truculent attitude of Caroline forced the

  Regent to a decision. He called together a committee to decide what the

  relationship between the Princess of Wales and her daughter should be; and he

  asked that the papers which were accumulated during the Douglas case be studied

  again in the hope of proving to the people of England that Caroline was no fit

  companion for the heiress to the throne.

  ————————

  Caroline was not without friends and now that she had lost Perceval she found

  two ardent supporters in Baron Brougham and Vaux, a distinguished lawyer and

  politician, and Samuel Whitbread, the Member for Bedford who had made a

  fortune out of the brewery business.

  Whitbread was an earnest idealist who saw Caroline as a much persecuted

  heroine; Brougham was something of an opportunist who saw in Caroline’s case a

  cause which could bring him fame.

  They called on her— separately— and both told her of their admiration for

  her fortitude in her misfortune and how they would work for her.

  With her usual exuberance she welcomed them.

  It was fortunate for her that she had these supporters for those of the Prince

  were demanding that the Douglases repeat their accusations against her.

  Whitbread, aware of this, forestalled the Princess’s enemies by asking in the

  House of Commons that Lady Douglas be prosecuted for perjury.

  ————————

  The affairs of the Regent and his wife were being discussed everywhere.

  There was no doubt whose side the people were on.

  On one occasion riding in Constitution Hill Caroline’s carriage passed that of

  Charlotte and the young Princess called to her driver to turn and follow her

  mother.

  When the carriages were side by side the two embraced affectionately and

  through the windows engaged in an animated conversation.

  A crowd collected.

  ‘Long live the Princess Charlotte!’ they cried. ‘Long live the Pr
incess of

  Wales!’

  The two smiled affectionately at the people and waved their greetings.

  There were loud cheers and grumbles in the crowd too. Why should fat

  George come between mother and daughter? Why should they stand by and allow

  such wickedness?’

  Mother and daughter bade each other a fond farewell and their carriages drove

  away in opposite directions were seen to turn and wave and look after each other

  longingly. There were tears in many eyes as well as indignation.

  ‘It shouldn’t be allowed,’ was the comment. ‘Someone should put a stop to it.’

  ————————

  No one was more aware of public opinion than Brougham; he came down

  vehemently on Caroline’s side. Meanwhile the Douglases were alarmed

  considering the penalties of perjury and Sir John wrote to the House of Commons

  on behalf of his wife explaining that the depositions they had made on oath before the Lords Commissioners were not made on such judicial proceedings which

  could legally result in a prosecution for perjury. But as they felt the fullest

  confidence in their statements they were ready to take the oath and swear before a tribunal, which if they were proved false could mean a prosecution for perjury.

  They were eager to swear before such a tribunal, but they did not wish to take

  these oaths before one which was lacking in these legal liabilities.

  Brougham laughed aloud when he heard this.

  ‘Ah,’ he cried to Caroline. ‘You understand. They’re bluffing. They know

  what this will mean. They will only swear at a public trial in which the Prince

  Regent would have to appear.’

  ‘They are taking a risk,’ suggested Caroline.

  ‘Well, they have to take a risk— but a small one. They’re banking on the

  impossibility of having a public trial in which the Regent would show up in none

  too good a light. Moreover, all those spies of theirs might have been ready to

  swear before the Lords Commissioners but would they be prepared to do so in a

  court of law? Consider the penalties of perjury, dear Madam. No, this is good,

  there will be no trial. And they don’t deceive people in the know.’

  He was right. News came that the Duke of Sussex had dismissed Sir John

  Douglas from his service. This was taken as a vindication of Caroline and there