by Cheyenne
young Duke of Brunswick, had been killed.
Caroline shut herself up in her apartments and wept for her brother.
But very soon there was shouting in the streets and everyone was rejoicing.
Wellington and Blucher had met Napoleon at Waterloo and annihilated the
French Army.
————————
Peace at last— and this time a lasting peace because Napoleon could never
rise again.
‘Now,’ said Caroline, ‘I can continue my journeyings in peace.’
There was startling news however from England. Samuel Whitbread who had
been her fervent supporter had died by his own hand.
Caroline could not believe this to be true. He had always been such a vital
man, a firm upholder of righteous causes. He had believed, it was said, that his
public career was at an end, and this had depressed him. It seemed so pointless; he was rich, having retained a big share in the brewery; he was not old, being in the neighbourhood of fifty, and yet he had shut himself into his bedroom in his town
house at thirty-five Dover Street and cut his throat.
Remembering the violent death of Spencer Perceval, Caroline said: ‘I seem to
bring had luck to those who help me.’
Why was it that people did not wish to stay with her? Captain Hesse, her
equerry, who was said to be the illegitimate son of the Duke of York, had come to her when the news of Napoleon’s escape was known and told her that he must
rejoin his regiment. She fancied this was a good excuse. Gell and Craven had
come to her as she was about to embark at Naples and told her that they must
leave her unless she returned to England.
She had told them that she had no intention of doing that and laughed at them
because they believed that rather than lose them she would do so.
But when she was alone she was depressed. Was no one faithful? Few, it
seemed; but one who was, was her dear Bartolomeo Pergami. What would she
have done without him?
The travels continued to Mantua and Ferraar, Bologna, Venice and Rome.
At each of the places Caroline passed through she behaved with a growing
abandon. She dressed extravagantly and was heavily rouged and daubed with
white lead; she rode through the streets in her fantastic feathered hats, the
abundant curls of her many wigs flowing freely, she was a startling figure. But
her conduct was more strange than her appearance. She was over-familiar; she
walked the streets ostensibly incognito— picked up children, squatted on the
pavements beside them, embraced them and gave them money; she cooked a meal
now and then which she sat down and enjoyed with Pergami; she allowed him to
come in and out of her bedroom at will, received him when she was in her bath,
and took a great pleasure in shocking those about her in every way she could
conceive.
Stories of her incredible behaviour were carried to England and the Prince
Regent listened to them avidly.
If only it were possible to rid himself of this woman how happy he would be!
Every tale he heard of her was a humiliation.
That most glorious of victories, Waterloo, was being celebrated. They realized
at home what this meant. The name of Waterloo would resound through the world
for centuries to come; and it was his great general who had achieved it. It was
Wellington’s victory. The church bells rang out; the guns boomed forth. It was a
victory to set beside Trafalgar and Agincourt.
It was a glorious time; and yet he, the Regent, was pestered by his family.
There was intransigent Charlotte who caused him much anxiety by her refusal to
obey him; but he could manage Charlotte; and at least she was pleasant to look at.
But Caroline! That loathsome creature to whom they had married him. The
First Gentleman of Europe, the most elegant and fastidious of gentlemen to be
married to that vulgar creature!
But for her, he could marry again and get a son. Ha, that would put
Charlotte’s nose out of joint. The arrogant young woman never forgot that Crown
she saw in her future. She was already seeing herself mounting the throne, which
was unfeeling of her, for how could she until he was dead?
If he could rid himself of Caroline—
Good God, should it be so difficult? The Delicate Investigation had been a near thing. He might have managed it then. But now she was roaming about the
Continent, causing scandal wherever she went.
There was fresh news brought to him by his spies. One of the members of her
suite had left her because Caroline was planning a trip to the East and this young man, William Burrell, who was a son of Lord Gwydir, had arrived at Brussels.
There he met the Duke of Cumberland; but the important factor was that Burrell’s
servants had chattered to those of the Duke who had reported to their master.
Cumberland had lost no time when he returned in telling the Prince Regent
that he wanted to know.
Something must be done. The manner in which Caroline was behaving with
this Italian chamberlain of hers and the way she conducted herself generally must surely supply the evidence he needed. His spies were not working hard enough.
There was Quentin, for instance, who had allowed himself to be discovered and
this incident had naturally warned the guilty ones. Many people had left her suite; men like Hesse, Gell and Craven. Why? Were they afraid of being implicated?
The Prince sent for Lord Castlereagh and told him that he expected action.
‘What do you propose?’ he demanded. ‘These people who are supposed to be
working for us give us nothing but gossip. I want proof.’
‘I think, sir,’ said Castlereagh, ‘that we should appoint a man of some
standing to work for us. What we need is absolute proof and someone who
actually witnesses misconduct. For that we will need someone who is skilled and
able to win the Princess’s confidence. I suggest that I get in touch secretly with our ambassador in Vienna. If Your Highness will give me leave to write to him—
strictly confidentially, I think he will know the man whom we should appoint to
act as our agent.’
‘Let it be done with all speed,’ said the Prince Regent.
————————
Lord Castlereagh wrote to Lord Stewart and headed his letter Most private
and secret.
He must appoint a man whom he thought fit to do this service and this agent
must be able to give eye-witness proof. English witnesses would be preferred but
it would be better not to involve anyone in the Regent’s service. The aim was to
enable the Prince Regent to be free of a woman who had no decency and was
quite unworthy to be his wife. It would be understood that as the object of the
evidence would be to justify a divorce, the proofs must be direct and unequivocal.
When Lord Stewart received this communication he studied it very carefully
and cast about in his mind for the person who would be able to perform this very
delicate duty.
At last he decided on the Baron Frederick d’Ompteda, the Hanoverian envoy
to the Pontifical Court.
He wrote to him commanding his presence immediately and when the Baron
arrived, acquainted him with what was expected of him.
‘You understand,’ said Lord Stewart. ‘We must have evidence and witnesses
of the misconduct of
the Princess of Wales. It should not be difficult to obtain in view of the reports we are receiving.’
The Baron replied that he would do his best.
‘It is what the Prince Regent expects,’ replied Lord Stewart.
The Baron took his leave and set out for Rome.
————————
Caroline had arrived at Como where she decided to settle for, a short time
while she and Pergami put their heads together, as she said, and planned a tour of the East.
An Italian countess had a charming house to sell on the lake and when
Caroline saw it she decided to buy it and make alterations so that it would be a
mansion worthy of a princess. Together she and Pergami planned the alterations;
and in a short time it had been greatly enlarged, avenues had been planted and as Caroline said, it was indeed her. house. She named it the Villa d’Este.
‘For,’ she explained to Pergami, ‘I am descended from that noble family.’
While she was in Rome waiting for the Villa d’Este to be made ready for her
occupation, she received a letter from the Hanoverian minister, Count von
Münster.
‘He is the son of my old governess,’ she told the maids who were attending to
her as she read the letter. One of these was Annette, a rather flighty girl who spent a great time flirting with the male members of the household, and the other was
Louise Demont who was of a more serious turn of mind. ‘Ah, what a life I used to
lead the old lady! I’m afraid I was a very naughty girl. The tricks I got up to!
They would surprise you if I were to tell you.’
Louise said demurely that nothing Her Highness told them would surprise
them, which amused the Princess.
‘You don’t know, you cannot imagine,’ she declared. ‘Ah, poor Countess von
Münster! And this is her son writing to me. He’s a very important person now in
Hanover and he is telling me that Baron Frederick d’Ompteda will be calling on
me and he hopes I will receive him. The Baron is the Hanoverian envoy to the
Pontifical Court. Well, we must make him welcome, mustn’t we? You have been
to tell the Baron Pergami that I wish to see him?’
‘Madam, shall we wait until you are dressed?’
‘No, no, no! Send him now. He can assist at the dressing, it will not be the
first time.’
When the Baron Pergami arrived, the two girls left him alone with the
Princess.
‘What a strange way to behave,’ said Louise primly. ‘I am not surprised that
there are all these rumours.’
‘Are there rumours?’ asked Annette.
‘Have you not heard of them?’
Annette shook her head. She had little time to listen to rumours; her great
concern was with a young German who had recently joined the household.
Maurice Credé was very attractive and she was sure he had noticed her.
————————
‘My dear Baron,’ cried the Princess, ‘how good of you to call! My good
friend the Count von Münster told me that you would be coming. I trust that you
will be frequently with us. We are delighted to have you.’
The Baron bowed and told her she was very gracious and she would find that
he would take advantage of her goodness.
‘Anyone recommended by the Count von Münster will be well received here.
Pray sit down and tell me about yourself. I doubt there is any need for me to tell you about myself. You will have heard stories about me and my goings on.’
She broke into loud laughter.
It shouldn’t be difficult, thought d’Ompteda. One only had to look at her and
one could well believe all the stories one heard of her. The loose revealing gowns, the painted face, the over-heavy wig, her very manner of sitting so slovenly,
somehow suggested immorality. It would be an easy case to prove, this one.
He talked of Hanover and his work in Rome and while he talked, Pergami
came in.
‘This is Baron d’Ompteda, my dear,’ said Caroline. ‘Dear Baron you must
meet Baron Bartolomeo Pergami, who is my guide, comforter and very good
friend. ‘Tis so, is it not, my dear? He looks after my affairs so beautifully. Come sit down and talk with us. Baron d’Ompteda has had such an interesting life!’
The greatest success, thought the Baron. Why she makes no secret of the relationship. She even asks him to sit down. She must be besotted— or crazy.
And Pergami? Yes, he behaved with a proprietorial air. There was no doubt
about it. He was her lover. It was going to be easiest possible case to prove.
She sent for refreshment.
Good God, thought d’Ompteda, is he going to be allowed to drink with us?
‘Theodore, bring us wine,’ she commanded.
The man bowed.
‘A very good servant,’ she said before he was out of earshot. ‘Theodore
Majocchi. Such a nice fellow! So willing and so grateful to be taken into my
household. Many of my English servants have left me, Baron, but I have been
well served by Italians and I have found the country so hospitable. Though I
intend to leave it for a while. My dear Baron Pergami is working a detailed plan
for us to travel in the East.’
‘And Baron Pergami will accompany you, Madam?’
She laughed at Pergami who returned her smile. ‘Now he is not suggesting
that I should go without you, my dear!’
‘It would be impossible,’ said Pergami.
Why, thought d’Ompteda, they are admitting it! My task will be done in a week.
But he was mistaken. His orders had been: Optical Evidence. This meant that
he must see the Princess and Pergami in bed together, or at least some reliable
person must.
Two or three weeks passed and still he had not found what he must have. He
had artfully questioned the servants and although they were ready to admit that
the Princess’s conduct was very strange, no one could actually say that he or she had tangible evidence of misconduct.
Caroline left with her household for the Villa d’Este and d’Ompteda followed
them there. After all his present business lay with Caroline. It was ridiculous. It seemed to him so obvious but where could he find the tangible evidence he
sought?
She was free and easy in her manners. She had been to a ball, during her
journey through Italy, dressed as Venus— naked from the waist. This had
shocked many but she had danced merrily with numerous men in her semi-nude
condition. She was immensely proud of her bosom and saw no reason why she
should hide her greatest beauty. There was a great deal of gossip about that
costume; there was talk about the manner in which she rode about the town, how
she would now and then cook a meal and sup alone with Pergami; how he was
allowed to talk to her when she was in the bath; how when he was ill she had
made him a posset and sat on his bed talking to him, that she had been alone in
the bedroom for some time and was still sitting on the bed when servants entered
the room.
All this— but it was not optical evidence. And that was what he must find.
Quite clearly he must enlist the help of her household and he looked round for
suitable people.
First there was the manservant, Theodore Majocchi. He had discovered that
before he came to serve the Princess he had worked for Count Pino and had been
dismissed from his household for stealing
. Perhaps a bribe would tempt him.
Maurice Credé was perhaps a better subject because he was in a higher
position and would be easier to talk to. He had seen that Credé was an ambitious
man; he was rather fond of the woman, it was true, and was actually conducting a
liaison with one of the women. That might be useful. The woman might have easy
access to the Princess’s sleeping apartments.
He would keep his eyes on the woman named Annette and there was another
who seemed more intelligent, Louise Dermont.
He had selected his tools; now he would get to work. The Princess was
leaving for the East in a week or so. He must get evidence before she left because, through Lord Stewart, he was being made aware of the Regent’s impatience.
He encountered Maurice Credé in the grounds of the Villa d’Este and told him
that he wished to speak to him secretly. Credé looked surprised that such an
important person as the Baron should wish for his company, but as he was
ambitious and always looking for advancement he was flattered.
‘If you would come to my room, my lord Baron, we could talk there in
comfort.’
Shortly afterwards the Baron went to Credé’s room where he found the young
man waiting.
‘You must have a great deal of information as to how life goes on in the
Villa,’ began the Baron with a faint leer.
‘My lord?’
‘The Princess is rather free in her manners, is she not? I
mean there must
be few secrets which are known to the members of her household.’
‘The Princess is a very friendly lady. She is kind and generous to us all.’
‘I don’t doubt that she pays you well to keep her secrets.’
‘I do not understand.’
The Baron laughed.
‘Well scarcely secrets. Who does not know that Pergami is her lover?’
Credé looked startled. ‘I cannot say—’
‘Can you not? Is it not obvious. Is he not in and out of her bedroom and she in
and out of his? Is he not present when she takes a bath— even alone with her? Oh
come, my friend, you are not so innocent as to suppose there is nothing in their
relationship but that between a princess and her chamberlain.’
‘I do not understand what you want of me.’
‘Then I will tell you. I want evidence of the Princess’s misconduct with