Текст книги "Caroline the Queen"
Автор книги: Виктория Холт
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‘Your Majesty will say that there is no alternative but to drop the Bill,’ said the Queen.
The King nodded. ‘We must send for Sir Robert.’
* * *
Walpole came first to the Queen.
‘We shall drop the Bill,’ he said. ‘There is no other alternative.’
‘I am sorry,’ said the Queen. ‘You have been grossly misrepresented.’
‘I should have foreseen this.’
‘Nonsense! How could you! ‘
‘It is a minister’s task, Madam, to predict the future ... correctly. This Bill in itself would have presented no difficulties had it been allowed to pass through without all the lies and malice which my enemies have attached to it. The Prince’s attitude towards it has inflamed the public the more.’
‘You mean he has set himself on the side of the Opposition?’
‘This is Bolingbroke’s doing. We have constantly heard that the Prince denounces the Bill. Your Majesties and myself have been fearfully maligned. They call this our Bill. I agree with Your Majesty that the Bill must be dropped, but our enemies will not be satisfied with that. They want a scapegoat and I must be that man.’
‘You mean ... resign! ‘
‘It is the only way.’
‘There must be another way and we must find it.’
‘Madam, all know that you and I have worked together. Unless I resign and you dissociate yourself with me and my policies they will attack you too.’
‘The Queen! ‘ cried Caroline almost regally.
‘Madam, the King’s grievance against England is that it is the Parliament who rules ... not him.’
‘And you would resign?’
‘That Your Majesty’s name might not be coupled with mine in this dispute.’
The Queen’s expression was very gentle as she said: ‘I am surprised, Sir Robert Walpole, that you could think me so mean and so cowardly as to allow this to happen. The Bill must be set aside. I see that. But you will remain in your office. This is not the time—indeed is any time the time? ... for running away.’
Sir Robert kissed her hand.
‘Then, Madam, we fight this together?’
‘We fight,’ she said. ‘And, Sir Robert, the King stands with us.’
* * *
London was on the edge of revolt. Never, it was said, in the 1715 revolt did the throne tremble so violently. The Lord Mayor of London supported by all the officials of the City rode through the streets on his way to the Houses of Parliament with a petition against the Bill.
This procession was cheered on its way.
In St James’s the King and Queen talked together. The Queen had asked Lord Hervey, who as well as being her Chamberlain was also a Member of Parliament, to return to the Palace and report to them as soon as a vote against the petition was taken.
She sat in her chair trying to knot to soothe her mind, while the King paced up and down declaring that if this meant they must return to Hanover he would not think that such a bad idea.
They could hear the shouts in the city.
The Queen could not keep her fingers from trembling. She understood more than the King how near London was to revolution.
It seemed hours before Lord Hervey returned to them. He came quietly by means of the private staircase and as soon as Caroline looked at his face she knew how things had gone. Indeed how could she have expected them to go otherwise?
‘So the Opposition was victorious!’ shouted the King. ‘That is true, Your Majesty.’
The King demanded to know how members of the government had voted and when Hervey told him he shouted abuse after each name.
‘Blockhead! Fool! Madman! Puppy! I shall remember them all.’
The Queen shook her head sadly.
‘This,’ she said, ‘is the end of the matter. The Excise Bill will be withdrawn.’
Defeat, she thought. Nothing will be the same again.
* * *
Meanwhile the few friends Walpole had were persuading him not to go out into the streets where the mob was waiting for him because in their mood they would tear him to pieces. No matter that they had misinterpreted his Bill; no matter that he in view of public opinion had withdrawn it; his enemies had whipped up public rage against him and they wanted his blood.
It was true that he had more spirit than most men. Instead of depressing him the situation exhilarated him.
He thought, I’ll beat them yet. I’ll be more powerful than ever before. For that reason he had no intention of risking his life. So he wrapped himself up in a red cloak and went among the crowd.
‘No excise!’ he shouted with the rest. ‘Where’s Walpole? Find Walpole! We’ll show what we will do to that fellow.’
And so he passed unmolested and, reaching his carriage, was taken home.
But that night, effigies were burned all over London. There were two figures, both grossly fat. One a man : the other a woman.
They represented Walpole and the Queen.
* * *
‘We are out of favour,’ said Walpole that night to his mistress. ‘But we shall not remain so. The thing to do now is to make the people forget all about the excise.’
‘And how will you do that?’ asked Maria.
‘I shall have to think about this. It will have to be a grand occasion. We’ll have a royal occasion this time. A wedding would do. That’s it—a royal wedding. We must find a husband for the Princess Anne. She’s getting restive and she’s no longer a very young girl.’
‘Where will you find the husband?’
‘I must give some thought to that but depend upon it, he must be found.’
A Royal Marriage
THE King paced up and down his wife’s apartments, his wig a little awry, his eyes bright with emotion.
‘But Orange!’ he said. ‘Not what I should have chosen for her.’
The Queen nodded sadly. ‘What a pity that there is no one else, and it is either him or no husband at all.’
‘But she is the Princess Royal. Perhaps Orange would do for Amelia ... or Caroline.’
‘But where should we find a husband for Anne? I dare-say Your Majesty is thinking that it would be unwise to marry off the younger daughters before the eldest.’
‘That’s so. And I fear if Anne does not take Orange it will be no husband at all.’
‘She is twenty-four. She should have been married long ago. Ah, if only we had married her to Louis XV.’
‘I never liked the French ... and a Catholic! ‘
The Queen nodded. ‘At least Orange is a Protestant.’ ‘The only Protestant in Europe available for marriage.’ ‘A sad thought,’ sighed the Queen, ‘when we have
Amelia and Caroline to consider.’
‘At least we shall get the Princess Royal married’
‘I know Your Majesty’s love for our daughter,’ said the Queen hesitantly, ‘and I know that you would not wish to force her into this against her will. And as it is such a poor match ... perhaps ...’
Tears filled the King’s eyes. ‘She shall choose,’ he promised. ‘If she does not like this match there will be no marriage.’
The Queen sighed with relief. ‘How good you are! ‘
George was beaming. ‘My dear, I have always tried to be a good father. I have not wanted to romp with them ... nor to have them always under my feet, but I think I have been a good father.’
‘The best,’ murmured the Queen, thinking of Orange and wondering whether he was as ugly as some reports made him out to be.
‘Your Majesty will wish to speak to Anne first?’
‘Yes, I will speak to her. I will tell her everything. I will hold nothing back. I shall say this : “Your mother, the Queen, and I, your father, will force you to nothing. If you do not like this marriage, my dear daughter, you have but to say, and there shall be no marriage.” ‘
The Queen took the King’s hand and kissed it.
Once again the tears glazed his eyes. ‘You are the best wife in the world. I want you to know I think that. However many mistresses I take....’
‘I know, I know,’ said the Queen quickly, hiding her irritation under a show of emotion.
The King spoke briskly. ‘Now I will send for our daughter. I will take her for a walk and then put this proposal before her.’
* * *
Of all his children, although he had never shown any great fondness for any of them, Anne was the favourite.
She was scarcely good looking, her figure being clumsy and ungraceful, and she was inclined to be too fat; her complexion would have been lovely but for the fact that it was rather heavily pitted by the smallpox she had suffered as a child. But she had a lively mind and had applied herself to languages and spoke English, French, German, and Italian as though she belonged to those four countries. She was artistic; she played the harpsichord with real talent, and it was one of her greatest delights to surround herself with musicians. Handel was one of her greatest friends. She also had an excellent singing voice and would invite people from the opera to the Palace to sing with her. She could paint very well and also excelled at fine needlework. She was apt to rise before the Palace was astir and she was never bored because there was always something she had to work on. She was an interesting young woman, but just as her lovely skin was marred by the smallpox, so was her character spoilt by her arrogance and her overwhelming desire to occupy an exalted position. Many times she had been heard to curse her brothers simply because they were boys and had they not been she would have been Queen of England. If that could have been possible she would have been perfectly happy; as it was she had become embittered and having been denied the crown of England had had to look elsewhere for a crown. It added to her resentment that there was no eligible suitor available who could give her what she wanted.
She had heard the rumours and knew why her father had summoned her to walk with him in the gardens at Richmond.
‘My dear daughter,’ said the King, ‘I have much to say to you.’
‘I know,’ she said quietly.
He took her hand and they walked away from the Lodge past the alleys with their clipped hedges to the river terraces.
‘You have heard that there is a proposed match between yourself and the Prince of Orange.’
‘Yes, Papa.’
‘I have told the Queen that I will have you forced to nothing. And she agrees with me. So, my dear daughter, if this match is abhorrent to you, you must say so and we will not have this Orange man. What do you say? But let me talk to you first. Let me tell you what Walpole has said of this marriage. He is a sly old fox, but he is a brave man and he has more spirit than any man I know, and I would trust him as no other to manage the Parliament.’
‘Yes, Papa. Pray tell me what Walpole has said of the match.’
‘He has said it is not a good match ... it is not a worthy match. His estate not being a clear £12,000 a year.’
The Princess shuddered.
‘But you will have a dowry, my dear. Walpole has talked of £80,000.’
‘That will make up for the Prince’s lack,’ said Anne. ‘Do you think Walpole will be able to get them to agree to it?’
‘He has not failed yet, my dear.’
‘Except with the Excise Bill.’
‘That ...’ The King’s eyes bulged with remembered fury. ‘That was a monstrous affair. That was his enemies....’
‘And if his enemies decide that I shall not have my dowry?’
The King frowned. He did not like these direct statements. The Queen never spoke to him like this. But this was a sentimental occasion and he did not want to spoil it. If she married Orange she would be leaving England and he wanted to think of her as his dear daughter not a virago whom he was glad to see out of the way.
‘You shall have your dowry,’ he said pettishly. ‘Walpole has promised me this.’ His mood changed. ‘The people will be pleased. It is necessary to please the people. They are not very happy with us at the moment.’
‘The Excise again.’
‘Our enemies have lied about us. It is these lampoons and writings. If this were Hanover there would be none of that, I can tell you.’
‘But there is, Papa. And we need this marriage. Is that so? We need to have a splendid show for the people to see. We need their cheers. And there is nothing like a royal wedding to please the people. Is that it?’
‘A wedding would please them. But you are not bound to it. The English will be pleased with Orange because he is a Protestant, and you know how they dislike the Catholics. Another point is that they are very fond of the Dutch. They took a Prince of Orange for the King in place of Catholic James, and although they disliked him when he was living they’ve forgotten it now and he brought them, so they think, many benefits. Therefore a Dutch marriage will be popular.’
‘Your Majesty is telling me all the reasons why I should marry and at the same time implying that I need not if the project is abhorrent to me. Please tell me now why you think I might not like the match.’
‘It is not worthy of you. His fortune is not good enough for the Princess Royal of England and the man ...’
‘And the man?’ she said quickly.
‘I have heard that he is not handsome.’
‘Oh!’
The King pressed his daughter’s hand. ‘In fact ... he is deformed.’
‘He is ...’
‘Oh, no! He can beget children. But I believe he is hunchbacked and not ... handsome.’
‘I see.’
The King drew his daughter gently to him and held his arm about her.
‘My dear, it is for you to decide. I have been fortunate in my marriage. I chose your mother. I went to court her and she did not know who I was. We fell in love with each other, and we have been very happy.’
He released her and stood looking at the river, not see– ing it but sentimentally gazing back over the years.
Anne thought: You may have been happy with your mistresses and your tremendous conceit so that you think you rule this country, but has my mother? She has had to accept your mistress; she has had to subdue her intelligence, she has had to pretend that she scarcely thinks a thought that is not in complete agreement with yours. Is that marriage?
At least he was not a hunchback. And he was a King ... a King of England. She would have been like her mother perhaps, ready to accept anything for the sake of a crown. A petty Prince of Orange, she was thinking. £12,000 a year. And a hunchback!
But the alternative? To go on unmarried, and when Frederick became King how would he treat his sisters who, because husbands had not been found them would be such an encumbrance to him? The position would be intolerable.
What a choice!
And after all the glorious dreams she had indulged in. To think she might have been Queen of France! What an unkind fate which had denied her great Louis and instead offered her this deformed petty prince; she had lost France for Holland.
I am the most unfortunate Princess in the world, she thought; and then : No. Amelia and Caroline are more so for they will have no choice at all, since if Orange is the only Protestant Prince available where can husbands be found for them?
The King went on : ‘And because your mother and I have had such a happy marriage, we could never force you into one which is repugnant to you. So we have decided that if you did not wish for this match, in spite of all the good Walpole thinks it would bring, there shall be no match.’
He was smiling at her benignly and she saw what he was waiting for. ‘Papa, you are very good to me.’
Then he took her into his arms and embraced her, so that all those watching from the Lodge saw; and as they knew what the interview was about they wondered whether that meant that the Princess Anne had accepted or refused the Prince of Orange.
That was Anne’s last concession to sentimentality. She decided there and then that she had no room for it in her life.
‘Papa,’ she said, ‘it is a question of marrying this ... hunchback ... or not marrying at all. I do not care to remain a spinster. Therefore I say that if he were a baboon I would marry him.’
The King was not noted for his tact. He nodded his head sadly and said : ‘Baboon it may well be, daughter.’
And they returned to the Lodge. The decision made.
* * *
Bolingbroke came to La Trappe to talk to the Prince and with Dodington discussed the proposed marriage.
‘This is a further insult,’ said Bolingbroke. ‘If there is to be a royal marriage, it should be that of the Prince of Wales. Who ever heard of a prince ... almost thirty years of age and unmarried. It is a plot to keep you from what is your due.’
Frederick was very ready to be inflamed. He could no longer mildly accept the neglect he received from his parents. It was true that his father had been treated similarly by his father, but there was no reason why it should become a family tradition.
‘Your Highness is too good natured,’ said Bolingbroke. ‘But you will not allow this to pass?’
Frederick looked expectant; he wanted to be told what should be done.
‘You should have an allowance of £100,000. It was what your father had as Prince of Wales.’
‘My debts ...’ wailed the Prince. ‘I cannot begin to calculate.’ He was regretting his failure to have married Lady Di which would have brought him the £100,000 he so desperately needed.
‘Could someone be found to raise the question in the House?’ asked Dodington.
Bolingbroke looked uneasy. Frederick was too unreliable to be a good leader; Walpole, even after the Excise h„ asco, was as strong as ever; and the King was not out of favour so much as he had been because the public were looking forward to the marriage of his daughter.
Any suggestion that the marriage portion should be diverted to Frederick at this time would not be popular. think just at the moment it would be unwise to raise the question in the House, but that is no reason why everyone should not know that the Prince is very dissatisfied with his father’s treatment.’
‘They already know it,’ said the Prince.
‘We must see that they never forget,’ replied Bolingbroke.
And during that summer when there was so much talk about the coming marriage of the Princess Royal, it was noticed that relations between the Prince and his parents grew more and more strained.
The King never addressed him in public; and someone remarked that the Prince must know what it felt like to be a ghost because when he stood near the King, His Majesty looked through him as though he were invisible to him.
As for the Queen, she spoke to him now and then, but only when it was necessary and the coldness of her manner was obvious.
So on one side there was the bustle of preparation for the royal wedding and on the other the uncertainty as to how long the present situation could go on between the Prince and his parents.
Lord Hervey was constantly at Court. The fact that he had quarrelled with the Prince of Wales endeared him to the King and Queen and the latter in particular had grown very fond of him.
As her Chamberlain he was constantly in her company; she liked his lively conversation which was spiced with malice and she allowed him a licence she would have given to no one else. Often he would sit beside her, beguiling her and the Princess Caroline with scandal about the people of the Court.
For the Queen this was a great release from the company of the King, and Hervey’s favour grew. As for the Princess Caroline, she thought him the most handsome, witty, and amusing man at Court. The fact that he was constantly suffering from some mysterious ailment endeared him to her, for the Princess herself did not enjoy good health and Hervey could beguile her with details of the latest cure for this and that. He would on occasion arrive at the Queen’s apartments looking wan beneath his rouge and explain to the Princess that he was back on his diet of asses’ milk with powdered crabs’ eyes and oyster shells, but he felt it was sapping his strength and he should go back to seed and vegetable.
His physical frailty did not impair the agility of his mind, however, and the Queen’s eyes would brighten at the sight of him, and if he did not put in an appearance she would enquire tenderly after his health.
All during that summer the Court hunted in Windsor forest on Wednesdays and Saturdays which, with his usual precision, the King had decided should be hunting time. The Queen, though she did not care for the hunt, was nevertheless obliged to attend, for the King would have been most displeased if she did not. She followed the hunt in her chaise, and Lord Hervey who confessed to her that he found no pleasure in hearing dogs bark and seeing crowds gallop, rode beside her and they continued their interesting discussions.
With the coming of autumn, news of the arrival of the Prince of Orange was brought to the Palace.
The King had decided that he should be lodged in Somerset House and then seemed to lose interest in him, and although the people were seething with excitement and longing for a glimpse of the bridegroom, George gave no orders for his reception.
So Orange came to Somerset House without much fuss and ceremony; but he would soon of course come to wait on the King.
The Queen sent for Lord Hervey.
He came, delicately handsome, and she gave him her hand, smiling warmly. Hervey kissed it with a flourish.
‘As always at Your Majesty’s service,’ he murmured.
‘Go along to Somerset House. I wish to know what sort of animal has come to England to marry my daughter. I hear he is most unprepossessing and I want to know the worst so that I don’t show too much shock when I am brought face to face with him.’
Hervey said that Her Majesty could trust him to bring her a truthful account.
* * *
Amelia came into her sister’s apartments prepared to commiserate.
‘He is here,’ she said. ‘He is at Somerset House.’
‘Is that so?’ replied Anne calmly. She was seated at her mirror studying her face, for her women had just left her after dressing her hair. Her complexion would really have been dazzling but for the ravages of the smallpox. But then, Anne consoled herself, who did not show signs of the smallpox? And it was in a way an asset because it showed that having passed successfully through the scourge, though scathed, one was for ever after immune.
‘You do not seem in the least concerned,’ said Amelia. ‘Should I?’
Amelia threw herself into a chair and folded her arms in a rather masculine gesture. ‘My God! she said. ‘Your bridegroom has arrived. He is in London. And you wonder whether you should be concerned!’
‘It is all settled. I have made up my mind.’
‘And you feel as calm as you look?’
‘I have accepted the fact that it must be this one or no one. Him I can tolerate; no one would be . . . unbearable.’
Amelia laughed. ‘You are ruled by your royal dignity, sister. You accept Orange only because he is a husband.’
‘He is a Prince too.’
‘That’s well enough but have you heard the rumours?’
‘I have known all the time that he was not ... handsome.’
‘They say he is one of the most ugly men in the world ... in fact so ugly as to be scarcely a man.’
‘I have told Papa that I would marry him if he were a baboon, so I am prepared for the worst.’
‘You will not be forced, you know.’
‘I know that well.’
‘And you can face marriage with a ... baboon?’
‘I have no intention of remaining unmarried, Amelia.’
Anne rose and, in spite of her rather dumpy figure which already showed signs that she had inherited their mother’s tendency to fat, she looked very regal.
‘It’s your choice,’ said Amelia, shrugging. ‘He will be coming here soon. Then we shall see if the rumours have lied.’
‘At least we are prepared for the worst,’ said Anne.
‘You will want to be alone I dare say to compose yourself.’
‘Nonsense. I have asked some of my friends from the Opera House to come here. We are going to sing together.’
Amelia stared in astonishment at her sister. It was really true that she was unperturbed.
* * *
‘My Lord Hervey,’ said the Queen, her eyes aglow, ‘come and tell me what you found at Somerset House.’
‘Your Majesty should not be too downhearted.’
‘But a little you mean?’
‘Well, your son-in-law is not beautiful.’
‘Pray, Lord Hervey, tell me the worst.’
‘He is hunchbacked.’
‘Slightly or …’
‘More than slightly, Your Majesty. He stoops so much that seen from behind he would appear to have no head.’
‘My God!’
‘But his manners are pleasing.’
‘And you are seeking to please me.’
As always, Madam.’
‘But I asked you for the truth and you do not please me by withholding it.’
‘Then I will say this. He is hideous, as hideous as he is rumoured to be, but he has princely manners and his con– duct is such that, knowing oneself to be in the presence of a Prince, one’s mind is taken off his appearance.’
‘My poor Anne! ‘
‘Your Majesty has been goodness itself and the Princess has freely chosen this marriage.’
‘It is true, but I suffer for her, my lord. You bring me very small comfort, but I’d rather that than lies.’
Hervey replied that beauty, ugliness, sorrow, all these were the greater or the smaller according to the manner in which they were observed. The Princess Anne wanted a husband and she was to have one. He was not beautiful, but he was at least a husband and the Princess had made it clear that she wanted any royal husband rather than none or one who could claim no royalty. In view of this the Queen should not grieve and she would see that the bridegroom was not half as black as he had been painted.
Such comfort, thought the Queen, talking to dear Lord Hervey.
But she was filled with apprehension even when passing to her drawing room she heard the sounds of singing coming from her daughter’s apartments.
* * *
When the Prince of Orange left Somerset House for St James’s the streets were crowded with people who had come out to cheer him.
Dressed in robes of state his deformity was partly concealed; and although he was extremely ill-favoured he showed his approval of the people who cheered him wildly. They were sorry for him. They knew that the King had treated him without respect. This was obvious, for the only equipage the King had sent for him was one coach with a pair of horses and two footmen—a very poor display for a royal bridegroom.
The King was irritable every time the marriage was mentioned because he hated the thought of his daughter marrying what he called a baboon. He had been hoping that. Anne would refuse the match; but since she had set her heart upon it and Walpole wished her to marry and so did the nation, what could he do but show his lack of liking for the bridegroom.
However, this neglect endeared the people to Orange.
Their King was a German without manners; they hated him; and they were going to make up with their cheers what the King had denied him.
All about the Palace people had thronged to get a sight of the bridegroom and having heard such rumours of his terrible appearance they were pleasantly surprised. ‘He is like a monkey,’ had been said. ‘He has a tail. An offensive odour comes from his person. He is an animal really ... a monster from birth. He stoops double. He crawls on all fours....’ Nothing had been too wild to say about the Prince of Orange. Now here he was, extremely deformed, with a face which could only be called ugly, but he walked on two legs; his stoop was not so obvious when he was seated; his robes of state concealed his hump.
And his manners were courteous and even modest. ‘Well,’ said the onlookers, ‘he is not a monkey. He is at least a man.’
Moreover, he was the Prince of Orange and a Protestant. And a royal marriage meant feasting and revelry and it was time they had a royal marriage in the family.
So: Hurrah for the Prince of Orange!
* * *
When the Queen saw him her heart sank with dismay. Oh, my God, she thought, my daughter to marry this ... monster!
The King received him coldly, thinking it beneath his dignity to show cordiality to a minor Prince who should be extremely grateful to be allowed to marry the Princess Royal.
And he was thinking: If Anne takes one look at him and decides against him, back to Holland he shall go.
But Anne was smiling graciously, accepting him cheerfully—and of course regally.
One would have thought that he was the most handsome Prince on Earth.
* * *
Now there was no talk of anything but the royal marriage which was to take place immediately.
It was true that some of Orange’s supporters were disgruntled and expressed dismay at the lack of respect which was accorded their Prince, but Orange himself gave no sign that he noticed any lack of cordiality.
In fact his manners were the one thing about him which endeared him to the Queen.
‘At least,’ she said to Hervey, ‘he acts like a Prince if he doesn’t look like one.’
‘There have been ugly Princes, Madam, in the history of the world, and ill-mannered ones.’
She laughed at him. ‘You do well to remind me.’
He then began to divert her with the story of a Prince who was under a spell which made him appear as a gross monster and by the love of a good Princess cast off the spell and was turned into a beautiful Prince. This told in Hervey’s inimitable way, so malicious and yet so amusing, made the Queen laugh.
‘Who knows, Madam, the love of our Princess for a husband at all costs may turn our Dutch baboon into a Prince as charming as our own Prince of Wales, which might—or might not—bring delight to his bride! Perhaps in the circumstances it is better to leave him under the spell.’
‘You are very wicked, Lord Hervey, and I wonder I listen to you. But, my God, I suffer for my daughter.’
* * *
The wedding did not take place on the appointed day because the Prince of Orange was taken suddenly ill with pneumonia.
He was not expected to live; and it was almost as though a breath of relief went through St James’s.
‘This will make the decision which Anne was not able to make for herself,’ said the Queen.
‘It is an act of God,’ replied the King. ‘I did not want to see our daughter married to that man. Why, when I think of our marriage, my dear ... The excitement! The happiness! Do you remember?’
‘I remember well.’
The King’s eyes were glazed with sentiment. ‘And when I came to you as Monsieur de Busch, you remember that? And you were a little taken with Monsieur de Busch were you not?’
‘Greatly taken.’
‘And delighted when he turned out to be George Augustus in disguise?’
She laughed. ‘Yes, we were happy and ours was a good marriage. That is why we suffer so much to think of Anne’s.’
‘Oh, if only we could find a nice Protestant worthy Prince for our daughter! ‘
‘Alas, there was only Orange.’
‘And he will soon have the life squeezed out of him.’ The King laughed at his little joke and the Queen laughed with him.
‘But I am afraid,’ said the Queen, ‘that Anne will be very distressed to lose him, since we can find no one else to take his place.’
