Текст книги "Queen in Waiting "
Автор книги: Jean Plaidy
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 25 страниц)
The journey to St. James's was a triumph.
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Caroline was a success. Her majestic appearance combined with affability, her friendliness which went side by side with a royal manner, the fact that there was no Queen and she was the first lady in the land, the knowledge that the King had separated her from her son, all this made the English warm towards her. She spoke English—which the King could not, nor did he make any attempt to, a fact which displeased the English—and although she had a German accent which in itself was not pleasing, she peppered her speech with French and German words and had a quaint manner of expression which amused and therefore charmed.
Whenever she was present she was the centre of attraction. The King's friends noticed it. Madam Kielmansegge pointed it out to him. George wished he could have left the shc-dcvil in Hanover with her son, but that would have been too much; the people would never have sanctioned his separating a husband and wife. He was sickened to see that young popinjay of a son of his strutting about, making himself popular, ogling the women; if he wanted a woman why not get on with it. That was not the way of George Augustus; he must always call attention to the fact that he was a sensual man—which, it was clear to his father, he was not, at least no more than any normal man. He loathed his son because he despised him; but he was beginning to realize that however much he deplored the presence of Caroline he could never despise her.
That woman has to be watched, King George repeatedly told himself.
A week after Caroline arrived in England the Coronation took place. There had been scarcely time to prepare herself for this important event. She was a little piqued that she was not to play a major part in it and would not walk in the procession. Had there been a Queen of England she would have been there; here was yet another reminder of the fate of women who fell foul of their husbands. What, she wondered, was the captive of Ahlden thinking on this day? Would she know that her husband was being crowned King of England? Would she be thinking of how she might have walked by his side and as Queen of England shared in his coronation? On such an occasion what would be the thoughts of a Queen who was not a queen, a queen without a crown?
There was too much with which to occupy herself to spend time in hypothetical brooding on another woman's tragedy. She was too clever to make the mistakes of Sophia Dorothea; and George Augustus was not as ruthless as his father. Yet could he be if his vanity were hurt? She shrugged aside such thoughts. I shall take care ... the utmost care that I keep my place and when the day comes for me to walk beside my husband and receive the crown, I shall be there.
She sat before her mirror while her attendants bustled round her. She had had to select them rather hastily but as she had been importuned during the years at Hanover when so many seemed impatiently to be awaiting the death of Anne, the selections had not been quite so speedily completed as might appear.
Henrietta Howard had accompanied her and remained in attendance in spite of her relationship with George Augustus. She had little to complain of about that woman who always behaved with the utmost discretion and treated her with deference. As she had learned from the old Electress, it was wiser not to interfere with a husband's mistresses and if at the same time one could keep them under observation, so much the better.
Henrietta was at the moment trying to conceal her suspicions of Charlotte Clayton who had joined her as lady-in-waiting to Caroline. There was something about Charlotte which had immediately attracted Caroline and at the same
time antagonized Henrietta. Caroline had taken Charlotte into her household because the Duchess of Marlborough had suggested she should, and Caroline, having met Charlotte, saw no reason why she should not be as useful as the forceful Duchess declared she would be.
Charlotte had come determined to please the Princess and place herself at the head of her women; and while she was wise enough to know she must never mention in her mistress's presence that she deplored being obliged to employ the Prince's mistress, when Caroline was not present she made her disapproval of Henrietta clear.
Caroline looking into her mirror, smiled from one to the other.
"That will be all," she said in her own quaint version of the English tongue. "After all I shall the ceremony only be watching." She lightly touched a curl which hung over her shoulder. It was a simple hairstyle but very becoming, and as the low cut of her dress showed the beginning of her magnificent bust, the effect was pleasing.
"All eyes will be on Your Highness," said Henrietta. "And Your Highness need have no fear that you will not please," replied Charlotte. "The crowd in the Mall when you walked there with His Highness the Prince yesterday was remarkable."
"They vant most to see the King's son."
"But it was his Highness's wife who attracted all the attention," said Charlotte.
"You should not to His Highness tell this." Caroline spoke lightly, but it was a warning to Henrietta.
"The women are always eager to see a Princess's gowns and headdress," replied Henrietta with her usual tact.
Yes, thought Caroline, it's to be hoped she retains her hold on him, for no one could be less of a menace than she is. Her husband, who was a useless sort of fellow had become a gentleman usher to the King, a post George Augustus had been able to secure for him as a sop for his complaisant attitude towards his wife's relationship with the Prince of Wales. It was a matter which had been discreetly settled and was conducted with the utmost decorum.
Not many women would have behaved so modestly as Henrietta Howard. She, Caroline, must protect her, if need be, from Charlotte, who was so eager to serve her mistress that she might be over zealous.
"I look forward that I shall make the many pleasant promenades," said Caroline. "That vill be very goot."
**I heard it said that Your Highness will set the fashion for sauntering which King Charles II made so popular."
"It is goot, this promenade," said Caroline.
She turned her head for in another part of the room putting away the jewellery she had decided not to wear two of her young maids-of-honour were whispering together in the belief that she could not hear them.
They stopped immediately at her gesture and she smiled faintly. They were charming, Mary Bellenden and Molly Lepel, two of the prettiest creatures she had ever seen. In fact, if she had been asked to decide which was the more beautiful she could not have said.
Charlotte made a mental note to warn the girls that they must show more decorum if they wished to remain in the service of the Princess. The chief culprit she was sure would be Mary Bellenden for that girl had the most irrespressible spirits she had ever encountered. She was delighted no doubt to discover that she was one of the beauties of the court—and the attention she received was enough to turn anyone's head. As for Molly Lepel, she was lovely too, and it must be a matter of taste which of the two were preferred.
Charlotte went to the girls and told them that as soon as they had finished putting the jewellery away they had leave to retire. Henrietta watched Charlotte, restraining her slight annoyance. Did Charlotte think she might give orders in the Princess's apartment?
This little scene was interrupted by the entrance of the Prince of Wales who liked to come into his wife's apartments unceremoniously.
"Vy, my dear," he said. "You are ready." Like Caroline he insisted on talking in English since he had come to England and his accent was as German as Caroline's. "You are in good time. I haf not yet put on my robes."
"You should then," smiled Caroline. *'You must not be late."
He sat down on a chair which Henrietta hastily put for him near his wife's dressing table. He was placed so that he could face her and the rest of the apartment as well.
His expansive smile took in the women. The wife with whom he was well content; the mistress who pleased him also. He felt life was good. He was about to see his father crowned King of England and his father was turned fifty. The day would not be far distant when he would be crowned King of England and Caroline his Queen. She was clever, but not too clever. It would never do for a Queen to be cleverer than her husband. He must watch that. His Caroline was inclined to be a bit of a scholar. And Henrietta, his mistress, was discreet, always ready, meekly flattering. It was a very good existence. If there was no such person as George I life would be very good indeed.
All the women were suitably impressed by his presence. The two girls who were closing the doors of the cupboard were glancing his way and about to curtsey before slipping discreetly away. What pretty creatures! thought George Augustus. I like these English.
"You haf not present to me these young ladies, my tear."
Caroline signed to the girls, who came forward, not shyly because they had been well versed in court manners, but with exactly the right amount of deference.
"Mrs. Molly Lepel, daughter of Brigadier General Nicholas Lepel," Caroline explained.
George Augustus nodded. Pretty creature. And a bold one too. He could see that in her eyes.
"And Mrs. Mary Bellenden, daughter of Lord Bellenden."
The girl curtseyed and raised her magnificent eyes to his face. She was a lively creature, that one; and until he had closely scrutinized her he had thought Molly Lepel must be the loveliest girl at court—now he was not so sure. No, the Bellenden girl was his fancy.
"It please me that you haf to the Princess's household kom-men," he said. "I can see you both vill it decorate ... in a pretty vay."
"Your Highness is gracious/' murmured Molly Lepel; and Mary Bellenden merely lowered her eyes and smiled.
"Veil," went on George Augustus, "you must serve the Princess veil. You vill find she is the best mistress in the vorld."
He turned his eyes to his wife; they were misty with emotion. Oh dear, thought Caroline, he is beginning to make plans for one of these girls—or perhaps both of them. Henrietta was alert too. Poor Henrietta, if she lost her position, her fortunes—and those of her complaisant husband—could change drastically.
"I am sure they vill me serve veil," said Caroline. She nodded dismissal to the girls and they retired. George Augustus's eyes were on them until they disappeared and then he continued to gaze at the door in a bemused fashion.
"They are pretty filles/' said Caroline. "Not very serieuse, I am afraid. I must see they are told of the dangers that could come."
George Augustus looked at her a little sharply and she was immediately uneasy. Had she betrayed a criticism of his behaviour? That would be the quickest way to drive him to some indiscretion. Caroline had an uneasy vision of some pert young woman attempting to show insolence to the Princess of Wales because the Prince of Wales had made love to her.
Yes, she had betrayed that she had noticed his interest in the girls. They were both a little wary.
George Augustus looked at his wife, sitting there dressed for his father's coronation, a long curl hanging over her shoulders, at her dazzlingly white neck and the beginning of her magnificent bust.
His eyes rested there.
"You haf the finest bosom in the vorld, my love," he said.
At least, thought Caroline, he wishes to placate me.
She smiled. "I you vatch throughout the ceremony."
He bent forward and kissed the finest bosom in the world.
Those who supported the House of Hanover had decided that the coronation must be the most splendid of its kind. The people must be reminded that this was not only the crowning
of a King, it was the heralding of a new dynasty. On street corners, in coffee and chocolate houses, in riverside taverns, the Jacobites gathered. Who could say what might not happen on Coronation day. They hoped the wind would howl and the rain pour down, because sunshine could have such an effect on the spirits that the people would be ready to believe life was good while it shone. It was October the 20th, so surely unsettled weather was not impossible.
But the sun shone brilliantly; and the crowd was more eager for a day's pleasure than for the uncertain excitement of rioting. When the fountains flowed with wine, when there was an opportunity to dance and cheer at the procession as it passed, to see the fireworks, to get drunk and make love after dark, who wanted to gamble with death? What did it matter what King was on the throne as long as there were feast days and holidays for the people?
As soon as the Jacobites saw the sun steady in the sky, they knew that the coronation of George I was going to be a day of rejoicing.
In the streets the flower and orange girls, the pie men and the ballad sellers were already gathering, while pickpockets and confidence tricksters made their plans for a day which should provide a record harvest. On the pavements seedy men and women sat with their dice boxes inviting passers by to throw the dice with them and indulge in a little gamble. Already there was evidence of drunkenness. In the October Club the Jacobites had gathered to make gloomy comments on the prospects for the future and drink a secret toast to the King over the Water. On the river there were crafts of all description and from many of these came the sound of music.
Ladies and gentlemen of fashion made their appearance in the streets—the ladies in brilliant gowns, their hair piled high under their enormous hats, their skirts flounced, their waists incredibly small, their bosoms liberally exposed. Patches to show off a fine pair of eyes a luscious mouth or a straight little nose were much in evidence. And the men were every bit as colourful as the women, with their splendidly embroidered waistcoats, their three cornered hats and buckled shoes, their quizzing glasses and their snuff boxes.
The sun, the mood of the people, the gaiety of music and the laughter all had a depressing effect on the Jacobites.
Still, they consoled themselves, it won't last. These people who are cheering the German today will be calling for his blood in a few weeks' time.
Driving to Westminster in his state coach the King was wishing the day over. He had no taste for this sort of thing! He looked grimly out at his cheering subjects and found it hard to raise a smile. He could not much like these English and he, who had never believed himself to be a sentimental man, often thought longingly of Hanover.
To Westminster Hall in accordance with English tradition, where under the canopy of state he received the peers and court officials. A dreary ceremony and he was weary of the whole affair already. He accepted the sword and spurs while the regalia with the crown, chalice, paten and Bible were given to the lords and bishops, to be transported by them in the procession to the Abbey.
I'm a plain man, thought George, though I am a King. They want to crown me. Why can't they put the crown on my head and have done with it?
But no, there must be this ceremony. And there was George Augustus, very much enjoying himself in the role of Prince of Wales. George felt a twinge of annoyance to see that his son looked almost handsome in his crimson velvet state robes, edged with ermine. There he was, not forgetting to smile at the people, trying to win their support. Support! For what reason? So that he could have them on his side in any quarrel with his father. A fine son I've got, thought George bitterly. And only one. There could have been more, if his wife ... But that was a subject he refused to think of. He had one son who was a constant irritation to him and that was his misfortune. He was glad in any case that the wife of his had no place in the procession. Put them there, side by side, playing the ideally happy married couple, with the children beside them and all sympathy would have been for the Prince of Wales.
If they turned me out, he ruminated, I should go back to Hanover and that would be no bad thing.
It might well be. The cheers died on their lips when they looked at their king. There he was in the ceremonial robes worn by his predecessors—crimson velvet, with ermine lining, bordered with gold lace, a cap of the same crimson velvet trimmed with ermine encircled by gold and glittering with diamonds. He was dressed like a King, but he had no smiles for his subjects and he looked as if he was not so very pleased to be crowned their King.
There were whispers in the crowd. If German George did not want England, England did not want him.
Caroline watching from her canopied chair in the Abbey placed near the sacrarium was amazed at the almost sullen demeanour of the King. Could it really be true that he had no wish to be King of England? How different was George Augustus, who was sycophantish in his attitude towards his new country and could not show the people often enough how he admired them. King George was a fool, thought Caroline, unless of course he really did want to return to Hanover. How could he want to leave this great and exciting country for a little German principality? He had no ambition. She felt an excitement grip her. She had enough ambition for them all.
The Archbishop of Canterbury was saying in a voice which reverberated throughout the Abbey: "Sirs, I here present to you King George, the undoubted King of these realms. Wherefore all of you who are come this day to do your homage, are you willing to do the same?"
Caroline held her breath. The silence seemed to go on a long time, but was that only her imagination? How could they want this dour unattractive man who could not even speak their language?
But the cry rang out: "God Save King George."
The trumpeters were filling the abbey with the sounds of triumph.
At the Court of St. James's
The people had accepted their new royal family. They were amused by the love of walking which the Prince and Princess of Wales displayed; Caroline with her husband and sometimes the little girls could often be seen promenading in the Mall; now and then they even strolled all the way from St. James's to Kensington, surrounded by friends, courtiers and ladies of the Princess's household and followed by a crowd of spectators. This habit endeared them to the people who wanted to see their rulers; and the affable Prince and Princess were very much to their taste. Germans, yes, but at least they spoke some sort of English and the Prince had already made his admiration of his new country obvious.
"I haf not a drop of bloot in my veins vich is not English," declared the Prince. "This I am proud of. The English is the best, handsomest, the best shaped, the best natured and loving-est people in the world. And if anybody vish to make his court to me, he must tell me I am like an Englishman."
Such blatant flattery was irresistible.
Caroline was not far behind her husband. "As for me," she
contributed to this praise, "I vould as lief live on a dunghill as return to Hanover."
Such remarks were repeated in the crowd who cried: "Long live the Prince and Princess of Wales!" and wTre very intrigued to learn that the King and the Prince wxre not on good terms. Their royal family was going to provide some amusement with their family quarrels and it was a royal family's duty to amuse its subjects.
So they were pleased with the Prince of Wales if they did feel resentful towards the King.
On the Prince's birthday there was a ball and at this both Prince and Princess increased their popularity. The Princess with her magnificent bust decorously veiled but not enough to disguise its charms, a fair curl over her shoulder, danced very charmingly with the Prince in her low heeled shoes to make him look less short than he actually was. Her gown sparkled with gems and she was a gay and glittering figure.
The King was present, dour as usual, but even he brightened a little when in the company of women. He was making it clear that although he had brougln Mesdames Schulemburg and Kielmansegge to England with him and they were secure in his affection and his habits—which he did not care to change—he could appreciate the charms of other ladies and he implied that although he was not exactly enamoured of the country' of which he had found himself king, he certainly was of the women of that country.
He had already shown interest in Lady Cowper even though that lady had made it clear that she had no intention of sullying her virtuous reputation and he was roused from his lethargy by the sparkling conversation of the Duchess of Shrewsbury who had no such reputation to protect, having been Shrewsbury's mistress before he married her. Being Italian she could speak French much better than most of the English women and as the King used that language, which he spoke fluently and which was understood in England better than German, she had an advantage and she did not let this slip. The King was constantly at her house where he went, he said, to play sixpenny ombre; but both Schulemburg and Kielmansegge were a little uneasy.
After one of these visits the King asked the Princess of Wales to come to his apartments and when Caroline arrived, he said: "I want you to offer the Duchess of Shrewsbury a place in your household."
Caroline taken aback replied that there was no vacant place in her household.
"That is not true," replied the King. "You have not yet filled all posts, have you?"
"They are not in fact filled but I have so many applicants for them that I cannot consider any more."
"This is one you will now consider and appoint."
Anger was in Caroline's heart. She wanted to cry out: It is my household. I shall decide.
But she knew the folly of that. The dislike they felt for each other was turning to hatred and she must not forget that he held the power.
She bowed her head.
"You will send for the Duchess," said the King.
In his longing for Hanover the King grew critical of everything English—except the women. The language he dismissed as gibberish; the food he could not stomach. These islanders turned up their noses at sausages and sauerkraut, while relishing oysters. He declared they were stale when they were served to him, although he had never tasted them in his life before. The climate was terrible, he said. "The climate is the most beautiful in the vorld!" said the Prince of Wales. In truth the climate was very little different from that of Hanover. "The people are noisy and undisciplined," said the King. "The people are full of a natural charm and gaiety," retorted the Prince of Wales.
It was small wonder that the people took the Prince and Princess to their hearts and disliked the King.
George was in no mood to admit he liked anything in his new country, but he could not disguise his love of music. This love was deep in his family and his fellow Hanoverians, and the musicians of his household were treated with greater respect than any other of his servants. Opera he had always de-
lighted in and he often spoke lovingly of the opera house at Hanover, yet he would not admit that the entertainment London had to offer excelled that of his native town.
The play began to fascinate him. In London it had been an important feature of town life since the days of Charles II, who had loved the playhouse and most of all its actresses. There were excellent players and playwrights to please the enormous public who thronged each night to Drury Lane and Lincoln's Inn Fields and the King would have lilied to be among them. He was not however going to show these people that the playhouses of London were a novelty to him and admit that they had nothing like them in Hanover. All the same he could not resist attending and the only way he could do this was to go incognito.
Even so, his heavy features might be sufficiently known for him to be recognized, so he would take a private box, remain hidden at the back of it and watch the players on the stage. He could not understand the words they spoke, but he enjoyed watching their antics and some of the women were very attractive.
But after a while this habit became known and the King could no longer hide his interest in the play. From thence he was often seen in the royal box and because of this he found some favour with actors, actresses and all those connected with the theatre, for many people would come to the theatre to see German George, as much as the play.
The King's lack of English was a drawback, so managers began to look for plays with the minimum of dialogue.
Caroline pointed out to her husband that the King had become less unpopular with the people by this playgoing habit.
"Perhaps," she said, "we should go more to the theatre."
George Augustus saw the point at once and the whole royal family took to visiting the theatre frequently.
There were more cheers, Caroline noticed with satisfaction, for the Prince of Wales than for the King.
He and Caroline would be bowing and smiling from their box and the King would be scowling from his and they could laugh at the jokes of the players while the King could not begin to understand them.
This rivalry was becoming a matter of great delight to the Prince and more and more irritating to the King.
It was noticed that at Betterton's The Wanton Wife the King ignored the Prince and Princess, never once looking their way while the Prince threw many a scornful look at the King's box. The audience was delighted. A feud in the royal family aroused interest, enabled them to take sides; and sentimental feeling was, of course, with the Prince and Princess who smiled on them so affectionately and loved all things English, rather than on sour-faced George who clearly would have preferred to go back to Hanover.
James Stuart could not have provided more entertainment; he would have had French mistresses instead of German ones and they may have been more attractive—in fact how could they have been less?—but there was a lot of fun to be had from the Elephant and the Maypole.
"Long live King George I" cried the theatre crowds. "Long live the Prince and Princess of Wales."
The King was thoughtful; he was fully aware of what was going on in the coffee houses. The Jacobite writers were sending out their lampoons and the supporters of the Stuart were drinking to the King across the water.
At a ball given in the Haymarket at which the royal family were present and to which, since it was a masked ball, all sorts of people could find a way in, the King in his mask, was approached by a woman. She was young and seemed attractive and George was never one to forego an adventure. He had to admit, of course, that he could not speak English and found to his pleasure that she could speak tolerable French.
She said: "It is sad for England since we have had Germans among us."
"You do not like them?" asked the King.
"Who could? They are so crude. They are not like us. I should be glad to see them turned away."
"You think they will be?"
"Without a doubt. We don't want German George here and many say he doesn't want to be here. Let him go back to Hanover and no harm done."
"It mightn't be a bad idea."
"Let us drink a health," said the woman; and taking his hand she led him to a buffet where she filled two glasses.
She lifted hers. "To King James III now across the water. May he soon be in his rightful place."
George looked into his glass and she went on: "Come! Why don't you drink? Drink to King James! "
"I drink with all my heart to the health of any unfortunate prince," said the King.
After that he was in no mood for possible seduction and he left early.
He was not liked by his new subjects. It was possible that he would be sent back to Hanover.
It would, he reflected, be rather pleasant to end his days there.
George Augustus was watching his wife's maid of honour and Caroline was watching George Augustus. They were in church, for the King's advisers had pointed out that it was essential to show the people tliat the new dynasty was determined to support the Church of England.
The King knew, even in his most nostalgic moments, that he would be a fool to lose this kingdom. Even though he himself longed to go back to Hanover he must make the three crowns of England, Scotland and Ireland secure for his descendants. As far as George Augustus was concerned, he could go to hell for all he cared, but there was young Frederick now in Hanover who would in his turn be Prince of Wales and King.
Therefore to church went the King but the long sermons in a tongue he could not understand were a trial to him and he could not pretend they were otherwise. He slept through most of them, or if he couldn't sleep he would discuss state matters with whoever was next to him. The preacher had to accept that. Now he was asleep, a fact made obvious by his intermittent snores. The Prince however was alert, his eyes speculatively on lovely Mary Bellenden.
Caroline was wondering whether she had been wise to accumulate such a band of beauties and bring them into her household. Yes, she decided, better to have them under her
surveillance, and Mrs. Clayton and Mrs. Howard would be excellent watchdogs—particularly Henrietta who had her own position to think of.
Margaret Meadows, the oldest of the girls was sitting up primly in her pew and giving side glances at the girls who, taking their cue from the King, showed no attention to the preacher—on this occasion the renowned Bishop Burnet. Mary Bellenden and Molly Lepel were whispering together. Fair and pretty Bridget Carteret, who was a niece of Lord Carteret, was doing her best to suppress her giggles which was more than Sophia Howe could manage. Every now and then the girl's choking laughter could be heard. Sophie was very frivolous. I should dismiss her, thought Caroline. But she was the granddaughter of Prince Rupert—although on the wrong side of the blanket—who was a brother of the Electress Sophia, and such a close connection could not be ignored; but the girl would have to be spoken to.
