But Miss Pigot still refused to believe that it was all over.
‘He still loves you,’ she insisted. ‘Look at the way he worried about your pension. I won’t believe it till that woman’s here and married to him.’
‘Then you will believe it very soon,’ retorted Maria.
‘Never,’ cried the indomitable Miss Pigot. ‘For he can’t ever be married to her, can he? Because he’s married to you.’
But there was no comforting Maria.
Departure for England
JAMES HARRIS, first Earl of Malmesbury, had come as speedily from Hanover to the Court of Brunswick as the frosty roads would allow.
He was a man of much experience for he had been the King’s ambassador in foreign courts for many years; now close on fifty he was still handsome, somewhat debonair and extremely astute.
He had come to make an offer for the hand of the Princess Caroline; a delicate task, he considered this, for if the Princess should not please the Prince of Wales on her arrival in England he would doubtless be made to feel the Prince’s displeasure; and if he discovered the young lady to be not all that he would expect the Prince to admire, what could he do? The precise instructions from His 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 DamesAnd changed them as oft, do you see. But of all the Grand Mammies that dance on the SteineThe 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 Du
chess 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. Suc
h 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, and perhaps he would not be able to give me those children— not all ten of them.’
‘Your Highness!’
‘Yes, yes. I will try. You see, Rosenzweig, while I am not averse to my marriage, I think I am indifferent to it. I shall try to be happy, but my joy will not be enthusiastic. I once loved a man. Did you ever hear of Major von Töbingen?
But they took him away from me. How happy we might have been! But they sent him away. He was there— and then he was gone. He was not good enough, they said. He was only a Major, and I am a princess. Princesses must marry princes— more’s the pity. Oh God help me, Rosenzweig, it is my Major whom I want.’
Mademoiselle Rosenzweig was alarmed; she feared the Princess was going to have one of those hysterical fits of which she had heard.
Indiscretions of the Queen Page 9