Indiscretions of the Queen

A Child is Born

‘So,’ said Caroline, ‘they call this a honeymoon!’

They had travelled down to Windsor from Carlton House and there spent two weeks. The Prince, having and up his mind that as soon as Caroline was pregnant his duty towards her and the State ended, had one purpose in mind; and only the thought of the freedom which would come with success gave him the necessary enthusiasm to achieve that end Caroline was deeply wounded. She would, if it had been possible, have attempted to make their union a happy one but she had no notion how to please him, and when she tried to do so only succeeded in making herself more repulsive in his eyes.

He hated her. Every time he looked at her he remembered that he had been a traitor to the woman he really loved. He tried to forget Maria by becoming more and more attentive to Lady Jersey who was enjoying the situation and had no idea how often Maria Fitzherbert was in his thoughts. Her attitude towards Caroline was haughty as though she were the Princess of Wales and Caroline her lady-in- waiting.’ Caroline had never been meek and such a situation was scarcely likely to curb her impulsive eccentricity.

The Prince decided that he would take his bride to Kempshott Park and with him should go some of those friends. Who would amuse him most and lift him out of his gloom.

Perhaps Kempshott was not a very good choice with its memories of Maria. It was here that he had spent many happy times with her and although she had never actually lived in the house, for with her usual discretion she had occupied a cottage and the estate, she had chosen the decor for the drawing room and had planned much of the gardens. He had been very happy with Maria at Kempshott, and he took a savage delight in remembering those days and comparing the woman he thought of as his true wife with the one who bore the title of Princess of Wales.

But he also had at Kempshott one of the best packs of foxhounds in the country and there he kept his best hunters. He could, at Kempshott, play the country squire as his father used to enjoy doing at Kew and Windsor— but whereas the King had dressed and behaved like a country gentleman, the Prince was never anything but the Prince of Wales.

The country people were less fickle than those of the Capital. They did not joke so much as his expense. There were no lampoons and cartoons, no bawdy and disrespectful gossip such as that which went on in coffee and chocolate houses.

He was married and that seemed a good thing to the country folk. As for the Princess of Wales she was a pleasant lady, always with a smile for any who looked her way; and often she would stop and talk to the children in a manner which showed she loved them.

Caroline thought: If it had happened differently I should have been happy here. We might have made a good royal marriage. If she could have had some of her friends with her she would have felt more at ease. Why had he been so cruel as to deny her the company and skill with English of Mademoiselle Rosenzweig? If only she could have had someone just to talk to.

But she was unsure of all these English women who surrounded her, because they all seemed to be under the influence of Lady Jersey.

She talked a little to Mrs. Harcourt, who was inclined to be sympathetic.

‘The Prince hates me,’ she said. ‘Why does he hate me so much?’

‘Your Highness is mistaken. The Prince needs a little time to grow used to his marriage. He, er—’

Caroline burst out laughing. ‘The more used to it, he grows the more he hates it. Though I daresay few people here have ever seen a bridegroom try to turn away from the altar just at that moment when the Archbishop is about to make him and his bride man and wife.’

‘Your Highness finds this amusing?’

‘Very amusing,’ cried Caroline, speaking in her racy French. ‘I wonder if it has ever happened before to a Princess of Wales? If not, I shall be remembered for it, shall I not?’

‘If it were true, Madam, which I am sure it is not, it would best be forgotten.’

Mrs. Harcourt for all her sternness and her loyalty to Lady Jersey was sorry for the Princess and somehow conveyed it.

‘You need not be sorry for me,’ cried Caroline. ‘It is the life of princes. My father used to talk of it. He was forced to marry my mother and was in love with another woman. He regretted he could not have married her. He always believed that if he had, his children would have been different.’ Again that shrill laughter.

‘Oh you are thinking that I am a little mad like my brother? Perhaps you are right.

Perhaps I lin. Oh no, no. I am very wise. I know that this is a mariage de convenance. Are not all royal marriages? But this one particularly so. I would never have been brought over here if the Prince had not been in debt. I was the victim of Mammon. The Prince of Wales’s debts must be paid and poor little I’s person was the pretence.’

‘Your Highness!’ murmured Mrs. Harcourt, shocked.

‘Oh, Your Highness! Your Highness!’ mimicked Caroline. ‘You know the truth of this as well as I do, Madam. Parliament would vote supplies only for the marriage of the heir-apparent. A Protestant Princess must be found so they fixed on the Prince’s cousin. I hate it all. I tell you God’s truth, I hate it all!’ She threw back her head and beat her hands an her heavy breasts. But I had to oblige my father. He wished it. My mother wished it. And what could I do?’

‘It is like so many royal marriages, Your Highness. But these are often happy.

The King and the Queen—’

‘Have fifteen children. Shall I? I think the Prince will be content with one— for when he has one he no longer needs to sleep with me. I tell you, this is what he waits far. He wishes to say: "I have done my duty. Now, I need do no more. It is enough.’ And I shall be glad. I do not love him. Let him go to his Jersey woman. The moment I saw that woman with my future husband I knew how it was with them and I shrugged my shoulders and knew I did not care.’

Her eyes were glazed with a sudden emotion; she was thinking of Major von Töbingen with the amethyst pin with which he had said he would never part while he lived.

‘Oh mine God,’ she cried, ‘I could be the slave of the man I love. But one I did not love and who did not love me that is a very different thing— that is impossible.’

‘Your Highness should not talk in this way.’

‘Do not, I beg you, tell me how I should talk. I talk as I wish, Madam. And I say this: Very few husbands love their wives and when a person is forced to marry another it is enough to make them hateful to each other. If I had come over here just as a Princess on a visit— Do you know that that was what Mr. Pitt wanted me to do? Oh, it was before there was talk of marriage; but I think Mr. Pitt wanted the Prince to marry and he thought that if I came over on a visit the Prince might have liked me a little. Do you think he would?’

‘I feel sure he would.’

‘Yes, he would have liked me— and perhaps I should have liked him. We should have been good friends. It would have been very different— perhaps.’

She began to laugh. ‘But do not be sorry for me, my good Mrs. Harcourt. All the Prince gives me in trouble shall be repaid. If he does not want me, believe me I do not want him. Once I am with child, once I have my baby, I shall be ready to say: Go away. Your presence is offensive to me. ’ Her laughter was more wild.

‘Oh, you are shocked. Be shocked. It amuses me to shock people and if I am not to have love, let me at least have amusement.’

The Princess of Wales was indeed very strange, thought Mrs. Harcourt.

When they could no longer curb their hatred of each other, they allowed it to break out and seemed to take a great delight in hurting each other.

The Prince would wrinkle his nose in disgust when he looked at her. Caroline, deeply wounded, determined not to show her hurt, would give vent to mocking laughter or sometimes she would try to discountenance him with her ribaldry. Her intention was to show him that she did not care for him any more than he cared for her and that the marriage had been forced on her no less than it had been forced on him One evening when there were guests at Kempshott and it was necessary that they dine together with their guests, he looked distastefully at her. Her appearance was always too flamboyant; her clothes— no matter who was her dressmaker— managed to look vulgar in his eyes as soon as she put them on. She was always over-rouged, although her cheeks were naturally highly coloured; her dresses never seemed to fit. Her bust which was magnificent— and he thought of Maria’s fine bosom every time he looked at her— gave her a pear shaped look which he found repulsive in the extreme. She loved finery and would wear too many jewels of clashing colours in which she managed to look slovenly, and the greatest crime of all was that she refused to bath frequently.

The Prince shuddered and as he could not bear to look at her face, he fixed his gaze on her feet.

‘Well, she cried truculently, ‘you seem to find my boots very interesting.’

‘I find them extremely clumsy.’

‘Oh, so you do? Well then you go and make me another pair. Yes, you go and make me a pair of boots. And then bring them to me and perhaps if I consider them good enough I. may wear them.’

The Prince turned away.

Although she might shout and mock she was bitterly wounded.

It was a comforting thought to know that the Prince had invited her old friend Malmesbury to dinner that night. What joy it would be to see him!

She would never forget how he had tried to help her. He, who knew the Prince so well, must have realized what would happen when she came to England. No wonder he had been so anxious for her, so eager to help her— dear good Malmesbury If only they had brought her over to marry him instead of the Prince, how different it would have been believe, she thought, that I hate my husband.

Among the guests were Lady Jersey and Colonel Hanger. She hated them both. Lady Jersey now made no secret of her contempt for Caroline.

She wanted everyone to know that she was the true mistress of the house.

What an insult to have his mistress as Lady of the Bedchamber when she had not been allowed to bring her own friends from Brunswick. And Colonel Hanger was a coarse man, a player of practical jokes, and she wondered that her fastidious husband could have such a man for a friend.

But his tastes were not all that refined it seemed. He could gather together the most vulgar companions at times. It was all very well to be so elegant and wear such beautiful clothes and to bow in such a manner that it was the admiration of all who saw it. But what about some of these vulgar friends of his like Colonel Hanger, Sir John and Letty Lade, and the Barry brothers? They were always playing their silly practical jokes and of course she was the butt for most of them; they invaded the house and it was made noisy by their horseplay. And how they drank! They were almost always drunk and she would often find them sleeping on the sofas with their boots on— snoring.

Not so elegant, she thought grimly.

At dinner the Prince was attentive to Lady Jersey and kept pressing her hand and looking at her with great affection.

Still, she thought, he doesn’t feel quite so affectionate to her as he pretends to be. It’s all to anger me. And the woman was wearing pearl bracelets. She knew those pearl bracelets.

They were hers. They had been part of the jewellery which had come to her on her marriage. How dared he take them away from her collection to give to Lady Jersey!

There is surely a limit to what I need stand, she thought.

Malmesbury was looking sad, now and then catching her eye as though he would warn her. Warn her! Shouldn’t he warn the Prince? Who had set the pace?

Had she or the Prince? When she had come here she had been ready to be a good wife to him, to build up some family life, to give him some affection.

If only I could go home, she thought. I f I could explain to my father that this life is so wretched that no good can come of it! But that is impossible. Royalty must come before happiness. Royal people had no say in their destinies— royal Princesses that was. The Prince was determined to have his way, and even though he had been obliged to marry which was really because of his debts— he still intended to keep on Lady Jersey.

The meal over, Colonel Hanger lighted the great pipe which he affected.

Everyone laughed at George Hanger who did the most eccentric things; and no one dreamed of protesting even at that big ill-smelling pipe of his.

The Prince was smiling at Lady Jersey who was talking animatedly to him. He took her glass and drank from it. It was a token of the state of affairs between them.

In a sudden rage Caroline snatched the pipe from Colonel Hanger’s mouth and putting it in her own, puffed smoke across the table into the Prince’s face.

There was a hushed silence about the table. She was aware of the Prince’s blank stare, of the glitter of Lady Jersey’s snake-like eyes.

Caroline burst out laughing. She had to do something to put an end to that awful silence.

Everyone was embarrassed; the Prince looked helpless; then ignoring her completely he began to talk of the play which was running at Drury Lane.

Caroline knew nothing of the play. She could not join in.

She sat smiling to herself. She was not going to let any of them know how unhappy she was.

The Prince had sent for the Earl of Malmesbury who came to him rather sadly guessing that after that strange exhibition at the table the Prince was going to criticize his consort and because Malmesbury had brought her over to blame him.

He saw at once that the Prince was really angry. ‘Well, Harris,’ he said, ‘you have seen that extraordinary display of bad manners. How do you like this sort of thing?’

Malmesbury murmured that he did not like it at all, but he thought that the Princess was in a strange country and was not yet sure of herself.

‘Not sure of herself!’ echoed the Prince. ‘My dear Harris, what antics do you think she will perform when she is? Why on Earth did you not write to me from Brunswick and tell me what sort of woman you were bring over?’

‘Your Highness, there was nothing of which to complain against the Princess’s moral character.’

‘You could bring this— this woman over, knowing what you did. I do not consider you served me very well.’

‘Your Highness, His Majesty sent me to Brunswick not on a discretionary commission but with the most positive commands to ask the Princess Caroline in marriage.’

‘I see, said the Prince bitterly. ‘You were obeying the King and you did not see it as your duty to warn me.’

‘Your Highness, replied Malmesbury somewhat sharply, ‘while I knew that the Princess had much to learn I did not conceive that Your Highness would make up your mind so to dislike her.’

The Prince looked exasperated. ‘You see what she is like— Do you think she will ever inspire respect in my friends?’

‘I think, with encouragement, she will improve.’

‘With encouragement, Harris, you are always so discreet and diplomatic, are you not?’

‘It is my business, sir, to cultivate these qualities.’

‘You manage well, I do assure you. But that has not helped me very much I fear. I see nothing but disaster through this marriage— nothing but disaster. This woman is— impossible. She revolts me. She is not even clean.’

Malmesbury looked hurt. He understood, of course. Had he not tried to instill in her the importance of freshness; had he not warned her of the extra- fastidiousness of the Prince?

And she had lightheartedly refused to consider his advice. He was exasperated with her, but desperately sorry for her too.

And through her he had lost the confidence of the Prince who could never quite forgive those whom he thought considered his father before himself.

‘And what do you think will be the outcome of this marriage which you, Harris, have arranged?’

‘I think the outcome will depend on you, sir, and Her Highness. And I must remind Your Highness that it was His Majesty who, with your consent, arranged the marriage. My commission was merely to go to Brunswick and make a formal offer. This, sir, I did to the best of my ability.’

The Prince shook his head mournfully. ‘I know, I know. But a word of warning, Harris. One word of warning. What disaster might have been averted then!’

Malmesbury could only look regretful; but as he left the Prince’s apartment he knew that he was expected to take some share of the blame for the marriage and the Prince would always remember it against him.

He saw the Princess.

‘I would to God, my lord,’ she said, ‘that I had never Come to England.’

‘Your Highness will grow accustomed to your new life.’

‘I will never grow accustomed to life with him. Nor shall I have to. Because I tell you this, my lord: As soon as I am with child he will never see me again. That is what he waits for. The best news I can give him is that I am with child.’

‘It is the best news you can give the nation.’

‘Oh, my dear Ambassador, who is always so correct— and therefore so different from me. Yes, it will be good news. If I can provide the heir the nation will be pleased. But he will be pleased— not so much because I have give them the heir but because he can then be rid of me.’

‘Your Highness, you remember when we were in Brunswick I implored you to be discreet and calm.’

‘You implored me to do so much, you dear good kind man. But you could not change me, could you? But I love you for trying.’

Malmesbury flinched. She would never learn. She would go on making wild and reckless statements, but she would not wash as she should; and she would never please the Prince of Wales.

‘You see, my dear lord, I shall never change. I shall always be your naughty Caroline of Brunswick.’

‘I believe that if you would try very hard to behave in a manner which would not shock the Prince—’

‘Shock him. He is the right one to be shocked. You know, don’t you, that he sleeps with that Jersey woman?’

Malmesbury turned away, his expression pained. What could he do to help such a woman? Had he not done his utmost; and all his efforts had clearly been in vain.

There was nothing he could do, thought Malmesbury.

The marriage was doomed.

The King was equally concerned for the marriage. The Prince disliked his bride and that was bad; but whatever happened appearances must be kept up.

The Queen came to his apartments. How their relationship had changed, thought the King sadly. In the days before his illness she would never have dared to come without an invitation. Now, of course, she was so necessary to him. A good wife, he thought. And he remembered all the children who had given him so much cause for anxiety: The girls who ought to have husbands found for them for they were growing restive and in a few years would be too old for marriage; the boys with their wildness. But there was always dearest little Amelia, the light of his life, he called her. His dearest youngest daughter who was yet too young to cause him any concern; he would like her to remain a child— a lovely innocent child for ever. And even she worried him because of that cough of hers. He himself prescribed her cough mixture and always impressed on her the need to take it; and when she put her arms about his neck and kissed him and called him dearest Papa, everything that he had suffered, the years of marriage with a woman who did not greatly attract him, everything seemed worthwhile.

He still had the verses which Miss Burney composed on his recovery after that frightful illness and which darling Amelia had presented to him. He remembered how sweet the child had looked and how she had spoken her piece which was: The little bearer begs a kissFrom dear Papa for bringing this. He would always treasure the memory. And whatever happened he had his darling Amelia.

Now he asked the Queen how Amelia’s cough was and when he heard that it was better he was much relieved.

‘I must bring up this matter of George’s debts to Parliament,’ he said. ‘I suppose they will be generous.’

‘It is the price he has to pay for his marriage.’ The Queen’s big crocodile mouth widened in a smile. ‘I daresay he is thinking the price a high one. Well, we all have to pay for our follies.’

‘You think he cannot take to the young woman, eh, what?’

‘I am sure he cannot. You will admit that she is a— spectacle.’

‘I thought she was a handsome enough young woman.’

‘Not handsome enough for George, evidently.’ The Queen gave a quick laugh.

‘Poor child,’ said the King compassionately. ‘It is not easy.’

‘Scarcely a child. I was some ten years younger when I came here.’

‘I know it. I know.’

‘I feel Louise would have been a better choice. Well, it is too late now. I can feel almost sorry for George.’

The King frowned. ‘I hope there will be no troubles about these debts. They are enormous. Some £620,000. How did he ever manage to let them grow to that extent, eh, what?’

The Queen shrugged her shoulders. ‘George will have the best of everything.’

She laughed again; but the King did not feel in the least like laughing. He was worried. It was not so long ago that the French had taken their king to the guillotine and cut off his head. When such a mighty conflagration as the Revolution was raging across the Channel, a neighbor so near as England could not expect to remain aloof. The execution of a king must stir up feeling against all monarchies. Are we so safe over here? wondered the King. And one of the most unpopular members of the royal family was the Prince of Wales.

‘If they go on like this,’ he said, ‘there’ll be no kings left in Europe. Eh, what?’

The Queen was accustomed to the manner in which the King’s thoughts strayed from one topic to another and she knew how much events on the other side of the Channel had preyed on his mind. If the King were incapacitated again she was going to make sure that she had a say in affairs and if George became Regent, she would conspire with Pitt to put a limit on his powers.

‘George’s behaviour does not help to make Royalty popular,’ she observed.

‘And now this marriage of his. If he had listened to me—’

‘When has he ever listened to either of us?’

The Queen lifted her shoulders. ‘Well, he married that his debts should be paid and it is high time that they should be. I hear that some of the trades-people involved are getting very restive.’

‘Something must be done— must be done. Don’t want trouble, eh, what?

Must speak to Pitt. Should not be too much delay.’

‘Yes, speak to Pitt. It is a well known fact that the Prince centered into this marriage for one reason only— and that was because he was in debt to such an extent that it could no longer go on.’

The Queen smiled. Lady Jersey reported to her regularly.

Between them— and with the help of the Prince, of, course— they would make Caroline wish she had never heard of the Prince of Wales.

Mr. Pitt was not inclined to make life easy for the Prince of Wales. Why should he? The heir to the throne had consistently shown himself to be the enemy of Mr. Pitt, had allied himself with Mr. Pitt’s enemies, and had made no secret of the fact that Fox was his man and on the day when he inherited the Crown he would do all in his power to oust Mr. Pitt from his position and set up in his place Mr. Fox or one of his Whig cronies.

The Prime Minister was too much of a politician to help such an enemy. It was Pitt who forced Fox to deny in the House of Commons the Prince’s marriage to Mrs. Fitzherbert which had been responsible for making such a breach between Fox and the Prince that it had, Pitt believed, never entirely been healed. But the Prince was a Whig and Mr. Pitt and his Tones were prepared to do as little as possible for him.

The Prince’s debts seemed to be a recurring problem. How one man could manage to spend such large sums was a mystery. Should the Nation be expected to pay an extravagant young man’s gambling debts and those he had incurred in the pursuit of women— and Lady Jersey was one of the most rapacious of his band— merely because he was the Prince of Wales?

Certainly not.

Mr. Pitt made his proposals to the House of Commons.

The Prince’s debts, he explained, were once more a subject for discussion. He regretted to inform the House that they amounted to some £619,570— a vast sum of money they would all agree. He proposed as follows: The Prince’s income should be increased to £125,000 a year exclusive of those revenues due to him from the Duchy of Cornwall which he estimated as some £13,000 a year.

£120,000 should be allowed to the Prince for the completion of Carlton House.

He did not, however, propose to settle the Prince’s debts. He believed that the best manner of dealing with this problem was for the Treasury to deduct £73,000 from the Prince’s income per annum and this should be done until his debts were settled. This seemed to him the best possible solution to a delicate matter.

- When the Prince heard what the Government proposed he was furious.

He raved to Lady Jersey: ‘They have cheated me. I married this woman whom I loathe solely because my creditors were threatening action if they were not paid.

And I went through this marriage with her— this farce of marriage— and now I am worse off than ever. They have increased my income and will deduct £73,000 a year to pay these wretched debts. I shall be worse off than before.’

Lady Jersey was mournful. The Prince’s poverty affected her deeply. She did not wish him to cut down his expenses; she was doing very well and if there was less to be gained because the Prince must be ‘careful’— what a hateful word— he was far from pleased.

She tried to soothe him. ‘It is not final yet. It has to be passed.’

‘Pitt!’ he said. ‘It’s always Pitt. That fellow hates me. What a diabolical plot!

To deduct such a sum from my income!’

He thought of that other occasion when he had been unable to pay his debts and the King would not help him. He had economized; he had sold his horses, shut up most of Carlton House; and he and Maria had gone down to Brighton in a hired coach. It had seemed such fun then. They had enjoyed their economizing.

But then he had enjoyed everything with Maria. Maria had never wanted anything; she had never craved money, jewels— He looked with faint distaste at his mistress— that dainty creature who sometimes reminded him of a snake. But she still knew how to fascinate him, though not so completely as she once had done.

Yes, they had shut up Carlton House and gone down to Brighton and they had lived in a manner which he called humble— and now looking back he could believe that had been the happiest time of his life.

How different this was! His debts unpaid; his income raised and yet he would be poor because from it he would be obliged to pay his debts.

It was insulting. And it was more than that. It was infuriating, maddening and tragic because to achieve this end had had been forced to marry a woman he loathed, He hated her more than ever now. And what consolation had he? Frances Jersey— when his heart cried out for Maria Fitzherbert.

Caroline was in despair. She had not believed that it could be quite like this. Although she had not expected her husband to fall passionately in love with her on sight, she had allowed herself to imagine that in time they would come to an understanding. But how could they, when he loathed her and made no secret of the effect she had on him.

I would have tried, she reminded herself. But, by God, if he is going to humiliate me then I shall show him that I care nothing for him? Lady Jersey! That woman was always close to her. And he had placed her there. She would not have blamed him for having a mistress; but surely he should have had the good taste, the good manners, to keep his liaison from his wife. The First Gentleman indeed! Then God help women if he was the finest example of his sex, ‘I hate him!’ she cried in the privacy of her apartments, But that was in private. No one was going to know how hurt she was She wondered how best to hurt him. She found a way. She had seen Maria Fitzherbert, the woman who had once so enslaved him that he had committed the utmost folly of going through a form of marriage with her.

So that was Maria! She seemed an old woman to Caroline. She must be well past forty. And what airs! One would have thought she were indeed Princess of Wales Handsome in a way, but with a beak of nose. Lovely hair. Better than mine? Caroline asked herself . I don’t think so. A good skin it was true, but fat and unmistakably middle-aged. She told him when next she saw him. ‘I met Widow Fitzherbert. What a Madam, eh? Mrs. Fitzherbert, they told me, I thought she was visiting Royalty— or at least a Duchess. Then I hear she’s plain Mrs. Fair-fat-and forty!’

He had turned scarlet with anger. How dare she attack his goddess. He gave her a look of the utmost contempt and she knew that he was comparing them and that he saw the middle-aged widow as eternally beautiful and herself eternally repulsive. He revealed something else. In his way he was still in love with the woman— more so than with Lady Jersey.

It was hurtful but gratifying in a way. It might well be that Madame Jersey would not always be at hand to torment her.

Caroline went about with a defiant air. She had given up trying to please him; instead she did her best to make him aware that she had no love for him. And yet she longed to win his affection. She had heard much about his elegance, so she tried to be elegant too, but she only succeeded in looking more vulgar in his eyes.

She could never compete with the exquisite ladies of his circle; and the more she tried to, the more dismally she failed. Knowing how he admired wit, she tried to be witty; her clumsy efforts to amuse were even more pathetic than her attempts to dress with taste.

Everything she did made him despise her the more.

God damn him! she cried. Why did they bring me here? I wish they had kept their Prince of Wales. Then she would think of Major von Täbingen, yearn for him and dream of the happy life they might have had together. She wished then that she had died when they took him from her— which she believed she almost had.

And then in the midst of her despair she made a discovery. She forgot her miseries; she even forgot the lost joy she might have had with Major von Töbingen. She forgot everything but what the future was promising her now.

That sad and sordid union was to bear fruit.

She was going to have a child.

They would go to Brighton, said the Prince. The air would be good for her condition.

She had hoped that now he would show a little interest. It was true that he was delighted He had done his distasteful duty and got the woman with child. Now he was entitled to leave her alone. His spirits rose, although he was angry about the manner in which Parliament had decided his creditors should be appeased. He always enjoyed being at Brighton; the people were so different from the Londoners, they did not criticize him— at least not openly. Perhaps they would always be grateful to him for bringing prosperity to their town.

So to Brighton where the inhabitants turned out in their thousands to welcome them and to shout their loyal greetings, not only to the Prince but also to his Princess. It was fitting that he should bring her down to Brighton. His chief residence might be Carlton House but Brighton was his home, and the Princess was pregnant so what better for her than the sunshine and the sea breezes?

It was rather a damp arrival, for the rain poured down on the Prince and his wife, but Caroline cared little for that; she smiled and waved to the people in her free manner, and consequently, to the Prince’s chagrin, won their hearts.

But she was soon to discover that life could be as humiliating at Brighton as at Kempshott and Carlton House. The Prince had no intention of spending any time with her; he left her alone and devoted himself to his Brighton friends who thought up all kinds of lavish entertainments for his pleasure.

Lady Jersey was constantly with the Prince and by an unfortunate irony was also pregnant. This caused a great deal of amusement and even the loyal inhabitants of Brighton— could not resist fabricating jokes and cartoons about the Prince’s virility. Lady Jersey was more unbearable than ever. She constantly took the place of honour and Caroline, often feeling sick and ill, spent a great deal of time alone in her apartments, sometimes going for walks with only Mrs. Harcourt and a manservant in attendance.

Her greatest relaxation was writing home. She found that thus she could relieve her feelings. If she told her mother how right she had been, how Queen Charlotte was an ugly little woman who was determined to spoil her daughter-in- law’s chances of living happily in England, she felt better. She would write cruel little descriptions of her new family; she could describe the foppish ways of her husband; the spitefulness of the Queen and the aloofness of her brood of silly daughters.

And doing this and walking now and then and dreaming of the following year when she would have her baby, she felt life was tolerable.

The Prince had left her in Brighton and gone to Carlton House. Lady Jersey accompanied him and during her stay in London was summoned to audience with the Queen, who wished for a detailed account of Caroline’s behaviour in Brighton.

‘So she is with child,’ said the Queen. ‘It has not taken long, and I believe that the Prince has not been the most devoted of husbands.’

Lady Jersey smiled sycophantically. It was clear that she herself was pregnant, and doubtless through the Prince. But Lady Jersey was a discreet woman, and Lord Jersey would accept paternity, so there was no need for propriety to be outraged.

‘I congratulate you on your own condition,’ went on the Queen.

Lady Jersey thanked Her Majesty and said she welcomed this addition to her family.

‘I trust it will not mean too long an absence from your duties.’

‘I can assure Your Majesty that my desire to serve will not allow me to absent myself for longer than is necessary.’

The Queen nodded. ‘And how does the Princess spend her time?’

‘She walks a little rides, and writes a great many letters home.’

‘Ah. Letters.’

‘Your Majesty, I am told that she sometimes laughs herself almost into hysteria when writing letters to her family.’

The Queen s eyes narrowed. ‘It would doubtless be interesting to know what those letters contain.’

Lady Jersey’s eyes sparkled with mischief. ‘If it were in my power to inform Your Majesty of that, I should believe myself to have done my duty.’

It was a dangerous subject— one which should only referred to in the most oblique terms.

But it was clear to Lady Jersey that this was a command from the Queen.

It was Mrs Harcourt who called Caroline’s attention to the fact that Dr.

Randolph, a member of the household was shortly leaving for Germany.

‘It occurred to me that Your Highness might have some special commission for him.’

Caroline declared that the doctor might carry some letters to her family. When was he leaving?

In the next few days, was the answer.

Caroline sat down at her table and wrote home. This was her revenge. She would tell her mother about Charlotte, the dumpy ugly Queen who reminded her of an old duck waddling out with her ducklings following her in order of age. She told of the cool reception she had received at the Queen’s hand; and that the Princesses, her sisters-in-law, were a spineless collection of old maids. They hadn’t a will between them. Mamma said: Persecute George’s wife, so they did their silly best to persecute.

As for the King he was kind and she liked him, though everyone said he was mad. The Prince of Wales was a poor husband and they weren’t to believe the stories they heard of his good looks. He was very fat and even the special corsets he wore couldn’t hide his paunch. She could tell them that the English branch’ of the family would do well in a circus; She sealed the letters and sent for Dr. Randolph.

‘Dear Dr. Randolph.’ She smiled, Lord Malmesbury would reprimand her for her freedom of address. ‘Dear Dr. Randolph,’ she went on, ‘I have heard you are leaving for a journey and will be passing through Brunswick.’

‘It’s true, Your Highness.’

‘Then would you please take these letters to the Court there? They should be delivered into the hands of the Duke and Duchess and Madame de Hertzfeldt.’

Dr. Randolph bowed, accepted the letters and told the Princess that she could rest assured that they would be delivered with all speed.

Lady Jersey smiled at the doctor in the slightly coquettish manner in which she regarded all men.

‘Dr. Randolph,’ she said, ‘I hear that you are about to leave for Germany.’

‘It is true,’ replied the Doctor.

‘And the Princess has honoured you with a commission?’

‘She wishes me to carry some letters to her family.’

‘I see.’ Lady Jersey’s smile widened. ‘A very important Person is interested in those letters.’

Dr. Randolph said: ‘Madam, they have been entrusted to my care. I could not lightly hand them over to any— person.’

‘Not lightly, Dr. Randolph. But there might be a perfectly reasonable way in which this would come about.’

‘I cannot see how this could be.’

‘It is for you to decide. The personage who wishes to see the letters is of the greatest influence. She has the power to bestow rank on those who wish for it, preferment— honours of all kinds.’

‘Preferment?’A Bishopric dangled before Dr. Randolph’s imaginative mental eye. Preferment indeed! For handing over a packet of letters. The important personage was of course the Queen. One had to obey the Queen. There was not only the hope of preferment if one did, but the fear of reprisals if one did not. The Queen, who for so many years had been a nonentity had now become a power in the land, and she was a vindictive woman who would be implacable in her revenge.

If Lady Jersey— and everyone knew on what terms that woman was with Her Majesty— went to the Queen and told her that Dr. Randolph could have put the letters into her hands and failed to do so, that would be the end of Dr. Randolph’s hopes of advancement. Who knew, it might be the end of Dr. Randolph’s career.

‘So—’ said Lady Jersey opening her beautiful eyes provocatively.

‘Madam, you who are in the service of the great will doubtless have some suggestion to offer.’

Lady Jersey was only too willing to explain.

As the post chaise carried him out of London on the way to Yarmouth Dr.

Randolph was thinking of his Bishopric.

It was really a very simple matter. He only had to obey instructions. His great fear was that something would go wrong. Caroline did not notice that the letters were not returned to her.

No. Lady Jersey was very efficient where her own advancement was concerned; and as this was his too, so mu he be. She left Brighton for Carlton House, there to await the birth of her child; and so eager was she for this event that she had little thought for anything else.

He alighted at the inn and there was the messenger waiting for him as had been arranged.

When Lady Jersey gave birth to a boy she laughed. Let her! She had already had a brood of children. What was one more? Caroline was not vindictive and if Lady Jersey had been ready to be her friend, she would have forgotten everything that had gone before and have settled down to cosy chats about babies.

‘Sir, there is disturbing news. Mrs. Randolph has been taken ill and the doctor believes it to be very grave.’

But Lady Jersey was determined not to be friendly. She was eager, as she said, to keep the Princess in her place. Lady Jersey had the approval of the Queen who recognized her as a good servant; the manner in which she had diverted Caroline’s letters into the Queen’s hands was an example of her good service.

And reading those letters was not likely to make Her Majesty feel any more friendly towards her daughter-in-law.

Low, vulgar creature! thought the Queen. What folly ever to have let her come into the country! Everything should be done to make her as uncomfortable as possible. As for the Prince he could scarcely bear to hear her spoken of. The Queen laughed grimly; their mutual dislike of his wife had made a new bond between them. They were almost allies.

Dr. Randolph took the letter which was handed to him. He had rehearsed the scene during the journey to the inn. He put his hand to his forehead and said: ‘My God, what shall I do? What can I do? There is nothing to be done but return home.’

‘Your Highness seems to be carrying a girl,’ Lady Jersey told Caroline.

‘While the horses are being prepared I will write a letter and I wish you to take it with all speed to Lady Jersey in Brighton.’

‘You would know,’ retorted the Princess, ‘being so clever.’

‘It is the method of carrying the child.’

His hands were trembling a little as he wrote the note. N had had grave news of his wife’s illness and was returning home at once. He must therefore postpone his visit to Germany. Lady Jersey would remember that he had been entrusted with a packet of letters by the Princess of Wales. He was wondering now whether he should entrust them to another traveller, who should be chosen by the Princess, or return them to Lady Jersey to hand to the Princess, and was now leaving for London where he would await Lady Jersey’s instructions. He trusted there would be no delay as he was anxious to return home to his sick wife.

‘Well, it is to the grandmothers we must turn to learn of these things,’ replied Caroline.

Lady Jersey saw that there was as little delay as possible. Grandmother indeed! thought Lady Jersey. At least she could be more proud of her appearance than Caroline could of hers.

She had spoken to the Princess of Wales who wished that the letters be returned to her. Dr. Randolph should therefore return the packet addressed to Lady Jersey at the Pavilion. They could be sent from London to Brighton on the post coach which set out from the Golden Cross Inn, Charing Cross.

‘Experience is always so valuable,’ said Lady Jersey; and while Caroline was thinking up a suitable retort, asked leave to retire.

Dr. Randolph sighed with relief, put the packet on the coach-post and returned home to his wife who was spending a few days in bed which she would have found a little irksome but for the promise of future glory as wife to the Bishop.

When she was alone, Caroline thought of the baby.

‘Girl or boy,’ she murmured. ‘What do I care? It’ll be my very own child.

And when it comes— perhaps even these last months will have seemed worthwhile.’

Caroline lay in her bed. Her time had almost come. Soon now, she thought, I shall have my very own baby. She had longed for this all her life. When she had visited the homes of humble people and delighted in their children, she had dreamed of the day when she would have her own. And now it was to happen. But she was in an foreign land. She had a husband who did not care for her.

She laughed at the expression. Did not care for her! He loathed her. He could not bear to look at her. As for her mother-in-law, she would be delighted to see Caroline sent back to Brunswick. She was alone in a foreign land, without friends, for there was no one here whom she could trust the King perhaps— but he was a sick old man and his position alone made him remote But when the baby came it would be different She and the child would be together.

Would they? She had heard the women talking. They had all said that royal children saw little of their parents. Their education was taken care of by their governors. Nonsense! she had told herself. I would never allow it. I would fight for this as for nothing else. And she would win. She was sure of it. There was one thing she had discovered about that precious husband of hers. He hated scenes— unless he could play the injured party, unless he could be the one who wept and suffered.

He certainly did not want to partake in scenes with her. He only wanted to avoid her.

She had put this to use when she had shouted at him. ‘Have your mistress by all means! But keep her out of my sight!’ He had looked as though he were going to faint with horror and had waved a perfumed kerchief before his nose as though to revive him or remove the odours of her person. But it had worked. Lady Jersey was less in attendance.

One of these days I shall insist that she leaves me altogether, Caroline told herself. But why brood on Lady Jersey when this cherished being was already announcing, in an unmistakable manner, his— or her— intention to come into the world.

A baby, she thought ecstatically. A baby of my very own!

The Prince of Wales paced up and down the chamber. Assembled there were the Archbishop of Canterbury and the King’s chief ministers of Church and State waiting for the birth of an heir to the throne.

Caroline’s labour had been long and she was exhausted; the Prince was in terror that the child would not be healthy or would be born dead There must be a child. He kept murmuring to himself: There must be. I could never— The suspense was unendurable.

At last they heard the cry of a child. The Prince hurried into the lying- chamber.

‘A girl, Your Highness. A lovely healthy little girl.’ There was no doubt of her health. She was bawling lustily.

Caroline lying in the bed, completely exhausted, cried out: ‘My baby. Where is my baby?’

They laid the little girl in her arms.

‘Mine God,’ she said, ‘it’s true then. I have a baby.’

‘A little girl, Your Highness.’

‘Mine God, how happy I am!’

The Prince was happy too. A boy would have been better, of course but there was no Salic law in England and the succession was secure.

He embraced the Archbishop; he shook hands with all who came near him. He was a father. He had done his duty.

I shall never be obliged to share a bed with that woman again, he thought.