‘I see that there is much you have to learn of the English scene. There is constant gossip in the chocolate and coffee houses concerning people in high places. Royalty does not escape. Rather is royalty, treated more scurrilously than most. That is why it is always so important to live exemplarily. The writer of this letter has clearly been listening to gossip. She— or he— shows a complete ignorance of affairs. This letter should be immediately destroyed and forgotten.’
‘So you mean I should not be on my guard against Lady Jersey?’
‘Your Highness should be on guard against everyone.’
‘But not specially Lady Jersey?’
‘Especially against those members of the Court with whom Your Highness will be in close contact.’
‘But it says she will attempt to lead me into an affair of gallantry.’
‘Complete nonsense. She could do no such thing.’
‘And why not, pray?’
‘Because, Your Highness, no man would dare make advances to the Princess of Wales.’
It was then that Malmesbury felt more than a twinge of uneasiness, for the Princess actually looked disappointed. ‘Why not?’ she demanded shrilly.
‘Because, Your Highness, anyone who presumed to love you would be guilty of high treason, which as Your Highness will know is punishable by death.’
‘By death!’
‘But certainly. It is a universal law. The King’s own sister, Caroline Matilda, who was Queen of Denmark, took a lover. He was executed; and she would have been also but for the intervention of His Majesty. She was imprisoned and died in prison when she was about Your Highness’s own age.’
The Princess Caroline had turned pale, and Malmesbury pressed home his advantage.
‘So you see, this is the letter of a person who is unfamiliar with the ways of the Court. It should be destroyed. I am surprised—’ He stopped himself in time.
He had been about to say that he was surprised that the Duchess should show it to her daughter. His friendship with Caroline was making him forget his diplomatic manners.
‘It is addressed to my mother,’ she said. ‘I will take it back to her and tell her to destroy it.’
‘Destroy and forget it,’ admonished Lord Malmesbury.
She almost flounced out.
What lack of grace! he thought. What will the Prince think of her? Lady Jersey’s task will not be difficult, I fear, and of course she will call attention to these gaucheries. Poor Caroline! What can I do to save her from unhappiness? In the Duchess’s apartments Caroline was saying: ‘So you see, Mamma, this is merely the spiteful letter of a disappointed servant. Lord Malmesbury says that no man would I dare attempt to be my lover, for if he did he would be punished by death.’
Caroline’s eyes gleamed. How exciting— to face death for a lover. If Lady Jersey were in truth the mistress of the Prince of Wales and she wanted a lover she would most certainly not hesitate. Why should she? If he could be unfaithful, so could she. She would have faced death for dearest Töbingen. Could there be another like him?
The Duchess was thinking: Death to love the Princess of Wales? Could that really be the law? It certainly had been flouted in the case of her own mother. She remembered the Dowager Princess of Wales who had been so enamoured of Lord Bute that she had been unable to keep her devotion secret. She had never heard any suggestion that they should be sentenced to death— although everyone knew of the connection. He used to visit her openly; he behaved like a father to young George— and it was a very cosy comfortable arrangement. The people had not liked it, of course. But that was because they had not liked Lord Bute— it was not due to the fact that he was the Princess’s lover but that he was a Scotsman who had wanted to rule England.
Oh, yes, the people had murmured against the lovers. The Duchess remembered the shouts of ‘Jackboot’— a play on Bute’s name— and ‘Petticoat’
which used to be shouted in the streets. But they were amused by them, and there were cartoons and caricatures. No one had suggested treason. She knew that the English were the most tolerant people in the world. They liked their Royalty to amuse them and a little scandal was very palatable.
In her frivolous way she was about to tell Caroline this; but even she realized the effect it might have on her daughter.
So she said nothing; and held the offending letter in the flame of a candle.
As soon as Christmas was over, preparations to leave went on at great speed, and when a message came from the Prince of Wales to say that in spite of the Duke’s intercession on her behalf he forbade Mademoiselle Rosenzweig to accompany her mistress, Caroline was thrown into a fury of rage. ‘Why, Why, why?’ she demanded. Lord Malmesbury with his customary tact managed to calm her.
There was doubtless a reason, he told her, but he could not tell her because he did not know it. He begged her to be patient. He would be her friend and counsellor in all things; and he believed she would find him as useful as a secretary.
‘The dear man,’ cried Caroline afterwards when taking, farewell of Mademoiselle Rosenzweig, I could have flung my arms about his neck when he said that. And he does, my dear Rosenzweig, comfort me a great deal for my loss of you.’
There was no time for grieving; the journey was about to begin and it was by no means the best time of the year for travelling; the roads would be icy; and it might even be dangerous. Caroline was not put out at the thought. At least it would be exciting.
On December 29th 1794, at two o’clock in the afternoon, they left Brunswick.
The Duke said his goodbyes to his daughter very tenderly; and she wept a little.
Dear Papa, she thought, he really was very good to me; and I suppose next to Major von Töbingen, I love him best in the world. He had been stern often and she was a little afraid of him but he had always been concerned for her, though never so much as now.
‘Goodbye, dearest Papa,’ she said.
‘Caroline, my dear child, try to be happy.’
‘It shall be my purpose in life, Papa.’
‘And please listen to the advice of older and wiser people.’
She promised she would. She got into the carriage where her mother was already seated, for the Duchess was accompanying her to Hanover.
Then the Duke took his leave of Lord Malmesbury and begged him to be a second father to his daughter until that time when she should be under her husband’s care, which Lord Malmesbury promised he would do and in a manner so fervent that the Duke’s fears were considerably appeased.
The cannons on the ramparts of the palace were fired; and the carriages began their journey. Through Brunswick the people came out to see it pass and to cheer their dear Princess who had always been good to them and their children.
Long life to her, they shouted. She, Princess of Wales— their own Caroline, who would one day be Queen of England, When the cavalcade reached Osnabrück there was grave news waiting for them. Malmesbury had planned to travel through Holland, but according to the dispatch, the enemy of England, the French, had marched into Holland and that country was in danger. It was impossible therefore to contemplate taking the Princess of Wales by that route and the squadron of ships under Commodore Payne which was to be meant to convey the Princess to England had, in view of the situation, returned to England. There was nothing to do but call a halt at Osnabrück and consider the next move.
This was irksome, for without the influence of the Duke and Madame de Hertzfeldt, both mother and daughter became very unstable. The Princess openly flouted her mother; the Duchess gossiped incessantly; and the improvement which Lord Malmesbury believed he had begun with the Princess seemed to have evaporated. Caroline was a little truculent. She did not take his veiled criticisms so readily as she had at Brunswick. She was far too familiar with her attendants and called them her dears, her little ones, her darlings; and when Lord Malmesbury reminded her of the need to combine affability with dignity, she was a little haughty with him as though reminding him that he was merely the K
ing’s ambassador while she was the wife of the Prince of Wales.
There is going to be trouble, thought Malmesbury.
The Duchess having heard that the French were not far off was thrown into a panic.
Caroline found her preparing to depart and reported this to Malmesbury at which the Earl went at once to the Duchess and remonstrated with her.
‘Madam,’ he said, ‘you cannot surely wish to leave your daughter unchaperoned.’
‘Nonsense!’ said the Duchess. ‘She is surrounded by women and she has you here to look after her. If the French were to come here, I don’t see why I should be here to be captured. They’ve always hated the English and they’d remember I am one.’
‘Madam, I crave your pardon, but I am in charge of the Princess and I cannot allow you to leave Her Highness until her ladies arrive from England.’
‘And when will this be?’ demanded the Duchess.
‘That, Madam, I cannot say, since our plans have been frustrated by the advancing French armies.’
The Duchess could do nothing but obey for it was true that the Earl of Malmesbury was in charge; and it was in any case her duty to stay with her daughter.
Caroline cried: ‘If you wish to go, go― I do not want you to stay with me if you prefer not to.’
They wrangled together, and Lord Malmesbury was more concerned with their behaviour than with the advancing French.
What will become of her in England? he asked himself. He made up his mind that it would be better to retreat to Hanover and stay there until he could be sure of conveying the Princess safely to England. From there he sent dispatches to the King and the Prince and settled down to wait for action.
Perhaps, he thought, this enforced stay at Hanover was not such a calamity.
The Princess was most certainly not ready to be presented to her husband. He had a few weeks respite and because he was fond of her, he was very anxious to helps.
her all he could.
He had been shocked— but at the same time touched when as they prepared to leave Osnabrück she had suggested he ride in the carriage with her.
‘To tell you the truth, my lord,’ she said in her most confidential and somewhat coquettish manner, I am heartily, sick of my mother’s company and feel sure I should not only enjoy yours more, but profit from it.’
‘Quite impossible,’ he had retorted coldly. ‘It would be most improper.’
This had sent her into peals of that uncontrolled laughter: which he always found so alarming.
‘Your Highness,’ he had told her, ‘must really take greater care in your behaviour towards your servants.’
‘But I do not regard a noble lord like you as my servant,’ she had cried mischievously.
It seemed to him that she had learned nothing. Oh, yes, they needed this stay in Hanover.
All through February they remained there, the Princess being lodged in the Bishop’s Palace. Malmesbury suggested that she read English for several hours each day and that he and she should converse in that language, which was an excellent idea because she improved considerably. She even tried to curb those gushing displays of affection towards her attendants of which the Earl had warned her; and he grew pleased with her once more. But there was one matter which continued to worry him. This concerned personal cleanliness.
What, he asked himself in exasperation, could a man do in such circumstances? It was too embarrassing to be spoken of— but warned she must be, for no sooner was she taken into His Highness’s presence than he would be aware of her lack of cleanliness.
He could no longer delay and however delicate the matter must find some way of making the Princess aware of what offence she would cause.
The opportunity came when he was talking to her after dinner.
‘The Prince is a most fastidious gentleman,’ he explained, ‘and pays great attention to his toilette.’
‘So I have heard. Diamond buckles on his shoes! He invented a buckle of his own, I was told, and when he first took his seat in the House of Lords he wore satin and spangles. What a sight he must have been!’ The Princess giggled, half with admiration, half derision.
‘I was thinking rather of personal cleanliness,’ said the Earl hastily.
‘Oh?’ Caroline was surprised. What did that mean? she wondered.
‘The English nobility pay attention to bathing; in fact the toilette is a ritual— not to be hurried over.’
Caroline laughed. ‘Oh, I never waste much time on washing. Madame Busche says she has never known anyone get through that performance as speedily as I.’
.‘That,’ replied the Earl sharply, ‘is nothing of which to be proud.’
Caroline looked startled and the Earl plunged in.
‘Your Highness must forgive me. I speak for your own good. It is obvious to me— and it would be to His Highness in particular— that you do not spend enough time at your toilette.’
‘My lord, what do you mean? Why should I waste my time going through a ceremonial dressing?’
‘I did not mean the ceremony, Your Highness. I meant the actual performance. It is necessary to wash the body all over and with care.’ This was most embarrassing and he admitted with any other member of a royal family but Caroline it would have been impossible. But that very familiar quality which he so deplored did at least have the effect of allowing him to speak freely. ‘And,’ he added‚ ‘to change one’s linen frequently.’
Caroline burst out laughing. ‘Oh, you mean I’m dirty!’
Malmesbury remained outwardly unperturbed.
‘It may be,’ he said, ‘that I exceed my duty, but Your Highness knows that more than duty prompts me. In England we pay more attention to matters of personal freshness than is the custom in Brunswick. The Prince is a gentlemen of high fashion His linen is kept in scented presses; he bathes each day and would expect Your Highness to do the same. He would, I fear, be aware immediately if you failed to do so.’
Caroline was astonished. ‘Bathe!’ she cried ‘What an odd idea. Is it not a little eccentric? Even in France they do not bathe. I was told that there is only one bathtub in Versailles and that they grow flowers in it.’
‘I am sure you have not heard the truth. But I must explain to you that in England bathing is considered of great importance.’
‘What a strange people I am going among.’
‘And a gentleman such as the Prince is of course greatly addicted to the habit.’
Caroline looked at him mischievously, sensing the embarrassment which was lurking behind his dignified manner.
So I am not clean, she thought, and he has been wondering for a long time how he can tell me so. He really does care about me or why should he bother If I did not love my dearest Major von Töbingen, if I were not going to be the wife of the Prince of Wales, I could love this man. ‘I will take advice from you, my lord,’ she said, ‘though I do not like it from others.’
His words had some effect, though not enough. Caroline was not fond of washing and she thought her dear Earl was being over anxious.
He was relieved that he had been able to talk to her on such a subject without mortally offending her; but he could see that the matter had not ended with that conversation.
Perhaps he should approach one of her women. It would certainly be easier to explain to her. He sought out Madame Busche, one of her very personal maids who seemed to be a sensible woman.
‘Madame Busche,’ he said, ‘I know I can speak to you frankly. And this is a matter of some delicacy so that I must know also that I can trust to your discretion.’
‘You may rely on me, my lord.’
‘It concerns the Princess’s toilette. Frankly she does not pay enough attention to it and this is noticeable. The Prince would immediately be aware of it and as I know him well, I know that he would find it repugnant— more so than most of us, because he is a very fastidious gentleman. I fear that if the Princess were presented to him as she is today, he would be— quite frankly little disgusted.’
Madame Busche was indeed a sensible woman. ‘I am aware of this, my lord.
We find it very difficult to get the Princess to bathe or to change her linen. She says it is all a waste of time. In fact she prides herself on the small amount of time she spends at her toilette‘
‘This must be rectified before she meets the Prince.’
Madame Busche sighed. ‘I will do my best, my lord You will understand—’
‘I have already spoken to the Princess and I think it has had some small effect, but there must be more of a change before we reach England. What kind of linen does she wear?
‘Coarse petticoats and shirts, my lord, and thread stockings. I put fresh ones out for her but often she does not change them.’
‘Madame Busche, we must do our best to make her realize the importance of cleanliness.’
Madame Busche promised that she would do her utmost.
But the fact was, Malmesbury reminded himself, that the German idea of personal hygiene was not the same as that of the English, and English nostrils therefore would be far more sensitive to unpleasant odours.
Soon Mrs. Harcourt would be coming out from England to take up her part as Lady of the Bedchamber to the Princess of Wales. He would be able to speak to her and perhaps something effective would be done then.
He might have spoken to the Duchess. Perhaps she was the obvious person to whom he should have spoken. But she was a foolish woman— and he was surprised that with her English upbringing she had not noticed this failing in her daughter. But while she followed the habits she had been taught in England she had made no effort to instil them in Caroline.
It was not until March that news came from England that the fleet which was to escort Caroline to England had arrived.
The waiting was over. Malmesbury was relieved yet apprehensive. It was perhaps foolish of him to feel the latter, because no one could find fault with the manner in which he had so far carried out his commission. But it was impossible to have come to know Caroline so well and not to feel affection for her— and the apprehension was for what would happen to her. He could not imagine how the Prince of Wales could possibly be attracted by her.
Indiscretions of the Queen Page 11