Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series) (21 page)

His grandmother and wife watched him, understanding his thoughts.

They smiled.

Sophia said: ‘I am pleased to see you two so happy together.’

George Augustus came and, taking his wife’s hand, kissed it.

‘I’d do the same again,’ he said.

It was a happy convalescence.

George Augustus was more contented than he had ever been.

He had a son; he had nursed his wife through the smallpox, had caught it himself, had recovered, and was training to go into the army.

He was a very loving husband.

Caroline became pregnant again and to George Augustus’s great joy he was allowed to join Marlborough’s army in Belgium.

George Lewis spoke to him before he left telling him that he was fortunate to be with the greatest captain in the world; and for the first time in their lives father and son seemed almost fond of each other.

With George Augustus away, Caroline was able to spend a great deal of her time with the Electress Sophia and in the gardens of Herrenhausen they talked with Leibniz and other visitors to Hanover. It was almost like being in Lützenburg again, for the little coldness which had sprung up between the old Electress and Caroline was over. There were so many English in Hanover now that it was known as Little England, and Sophia secretly called herself the Princess of Wales and longed for news from England that Queen Anne was no more.

They were happy days, for Caroline believed that his war experiences would give George Augustus maturity and that she might eventually learn to make a good life with him.

Fritzchen caused a little anxiety by not being able to walk; he was a pretty child, but small for his age and backward. When it was discovered, however, that he had rickets, special care was taken of him and he began to show improvement.

As with Fritzchen, Caroline had miscalculated and when the time came for her child to be born nothing happened; but she remained calmly waiting. So pleasant it was to wander in the gardens of Herrenhausen; to stroll through the orangery while music was played for them and Leibniz talked to them; with George Augustus away and no one to reprimand her for talking like a scholar rather than a Princess, she was happier than she had been since the death of Sophia Charlotte.

Together they discussed the religious controversy which was taking place in France at the time between the Jesuits and the Jansenists and Caroline was in her element in the centre of discussion, surprising them all with her knowledge, for she had always possessed an extraordinarily retentive memory and remembered everything she read.

Those were happy days.

There came news from the battle front. Oudenarde had been won under Marlborough’s command and George Augustus had
distinguished himself by his bravery. At the head of the Hanoverian Dragoons he had led them to victory, and although his horse had been shot under him, he had plunged into the thick of the fighting and to the admiration of all had proved himself as fine a soldier as his father.

The English at Hanover were talking about his bravery and Marlborough had written to the Elector congratulating him on the Prince’s action. He had played his part in the great victory, said Marlborough.

Even George Lewis was pleased with his son… for a time; then he realized that his success on the battlefield had made him a hero in the eyes of the English and as those at Hanover had already reported back to London that the Electoral Prince was more favourable to the English than the Elector, the old antagonism was as fierce as ever. Was his son trying to ingratiate himself with the English? wondered George Lewis. Was he hoping that they would want to pass over the father and take the son?

George Lewis had no great desire to accept the crown of England; but on the death of Anne and Sophia it would be his… not his son’s. George Augustus could only have it on his death.

George Augustus returned to Hanover flushed with triumph, ready to receive a hero’s welcome. There were many ready to give it and he was content. For his father’s grim disapproval he cared nothing; in fact he was glad of it. He had no wish for the hatred between them to be diminished. He revelled in his new popularity. The people of Hanover, he liked to believe, as well as the English, loved him better than his father.

There was his devoted wife, large with child. There was little Fritzchen shouting with glee at the sight of his brave Papa.

George Augustus had never been so happy in his life.

And on a dark November day Caroline’s second child was born – a healthy girl.

‘We will christen her Anne,’ said the Electress, ‘in compliment to the Queen of England.’

Caroline agreed that this was an excellent idea, and Anne of England graciously consented to be godmother to baby Anne of Hanover.

George Augustus, who had to leave before the birth, wrote of his joy in the event and in his wife who had given him so much happiness.

‘This token of your love attaches me to you more deeply than ever. The peace of my life depends on knowing you are in good health and upon the conviction of your continued affection towards me. I shall endeavour to attract it by all imaginable love and passion and I shall never omit any way of showing you that no one could be more wholly yours, dear Caroline, than your George Augustus.’

When she read that letter, holding her newly born child in her arms with little Fritzchen beside her, she told herself that she had passed through the dangerous years of marriage. She would know how to find happiness in the life that lay ahead.

The Prince improves his English

THE WAGON TRUNDLED
into the main square of Hanover and came to a stop before the inn. Among the passengers who alighted were a man and woman who were obviously foreigners, but in the last years there had been so many foreigners in Hanover – and particularly English – that little notice was paid to these two.

They were travel-stained and weary and seemed to have one thought: to provide themselves with food and a room for the night.

They followed other travellers into the inn where they were assigned a room and told that supper would be ready within an hour. The woman wrinkled her nose at the smell of sauerkraut, sausages and onions which came from the kitchens, as she and the man were conducted to a room.

As soon as the door shut on them, she threw back the hood of her cloak and taking the pins from her hair shook it out. It fell like a golden-brown shawl about her shoulder and immediately transformed her into a beauty.

‘My head aches,’ she said in a quiet voice.

The man nodded and took a bottle from his pocket. He drank deeply while she looked at him with contempt.

‘Not too much, Henry,’ she said. ‘We cannot afford any drunkenness now.’

He scowled at her. ‘Nag, nag, nag!’ he said. ‘What a life you lead me.’

‘If you’d listened to me,’ she began.

‘I know. I know. We shouldn’t be in the state we are today. We should be at the court of Good Queen Anne not trying out our fortunes here in Hanover.’

‘Don’t forget we need all our wits.’

‘You won’t let me.’

‘Henry, we can’t afford to fail. We’ve got to consider very seriously where we go from here. If we’re clever, if we can win the favour of these people, we’ll go back home with them and it’ll be our turn to hold high places at court.’

‘Yes, and there are a hundred other people here with the same idea.’

‘We’re in good time. If only we can bring ourselves to their notice. If only we can please them. But if you’re going to drink yourself silly… if you’re going to drink away all the money we have…’

‘Have we any money?’

‘Scarcely any. I’ve got to think… think seriously what we’re going to do. We’ve got to get an introduction to the old Electress. If only I can get that we’ll go forward from there. You only have to be English to please her, they say. And if we haven’t money we have background… both of us.’

‘Well, you’re the clever one.’

‘I’ll have to think. But I want your help, Henry. You’ve got to give me your help.’

He sat down on the bed and regarded her gloomily. He was wondering why he had married her; she was wondering why she had married him.

Furiously she went to the mirror, which was tarnished and mottled and threw ageing shadows on her face which momentarily alarmed her. That was how she would look in reality in a few years’ time if they continued to live this hole and corner life. She put up a hand to stroke her hair. It was magnificent, her greatest beauty and she was more than averagely good-looking even without it. Her features were neat, her eyes very good, her
smile most agreeable and her figure slender without being thin.

She was an attractive woman; and appearances were so useful.

At home in Norfolk they had expected her to make a good match, and so, they thought, she had; for it had seemed that the eldest daughter of Sir Henry Hobart had done very well in securing a son of the Earl of Suffolk. Of course Henry was only a third son and he had disgraced himself in his family before the marriage, which was why he was allowed to throw himself away on the daughter of a Norfolk baronet – only of course the Hobarts had not known that until after. He was a drunkard; he was immoral; he had an alarming temper which could at times be violent; and he had long before his marriage run through his own patrimony; therefore Henrietta Hobart with her dowry of six thousand pounds seemed an attractive proposition.

Henrietta soon realized the mistake. Often she wished she were back in her father’s house in Norfolk, sitting under the apple tree or in the rose garden with her sisters talking of the men they would marry. The peace of a country mansion had often during the last few years seemed the most desirable thing in the world.

But Henrietta was not a foolish girl to sigh for the impossible. In marriage she had found disappointment but it need not be disastrous. Fortunately, besides being blessed with beauty, she had a placid temperament; and although not brilliantly clever she was resourceful.

It was her suggestion that they had come to Hanover and she was going to get to court somehow. Once there, she would seek to find a niche for herself, if not for Henry, and when she found it, would do her best to remain in it, comfortably secure, ready to leave for England with the new Queen when the time came.

It could not be long now. Anne was constantly about to die and miraculously recovering. Abigail Hill, Lady Masham, had long since driven the Duchess of Marlborough from favour and she guarded Anne like the dragon she was for all her insipid looks. Henrietta had often thought that if she had had an opportunity of bringing herself to the Queen’s notice she might have had an opportunity of winning her favour.

But it was an impossible task; moreover, one did not seek to travel on a sinking ship. Wise, forward-looking people were now
turning to Hanover and were bringing themselves to the notice of the Electress Sophia.

And that was what the Howards must do.

‘We must find a way,’ she said quietly, and began binding up her hair in readiness for their descent to the dining room. Sausages and sauerkraut. Not very delectable. But they would not for long be taking their meals like common travellers in an inn parlour.

The next day Henrietta secured a small apartment in Hanover. It was grander than she could afford, but even so it was too humble. But that, she decided, was a necessary expense.

There were so many English in Hanover that it was not difficult to introduce herself into society. After all, she was well born – herself the daughter of a baronet, her husband the son of an earl. She had been most excellently educated and was every bit a court lady; and in Hanover, where manners were considered coarse compared with those of England, she seemed a very grand lady.

What she needed was an audience with the Electress, but this was not easy to come by. In spite of the crudities of court life there was a rigid protocol. The number of people employed in the service of the royal household must rival that of Queen Anne’s court. Henrietta learned that there were chamberlains, ushers, pages, physicians, barbers, waiters, lacqueys, a dozen cooks the chief of whom was French, pastry-makers, pie-makers, scullions, officers in charge of the wine, officers in charge of beer; and all these people had their assistants. There were the court musicians: organist, numerous trumpeters and fiddlers, singers and writers of songs and music; for the one field of culture the Elector cared to explore was that of music. To see the Electoral coach leave Hanover for the short trip to Herrenhausen, with its accompanying guardsmen, outriders and glittering escort was enough to warn Henrietta of the difficulties which lay before her.

Easy enough to remain on the fringe; but of what use was that?

She must choose carefully. She must select those who could help her obtain an audience with the Electress and somehow wheedle them into making the introduction. These Germans
were great eaters and drinkers; and it was under the influence of food and drink that they would be most expansive.

She must give a dinner party, select her guests carefully, and choose the right moment to get the promise she so urgently required.

She talked it over with Henry. Not that he was much use, a hindrance rather. He had easy, charming manners – it was those which had first delighted her and made her visualize a very different life from that to which he had brought her – but he was feckless and his chief preoccupation was how to get money to spend on drink. Still, he could be relied upon to play his part for an evening and he was, after all, the son of an earl and a member of the great Howard family. She couldn’t really do without him at this stage and if he did drink too much, it was very probable that their guests would too. Indeed, that was what she wanted, in order to extract that promise.

‘It’s a good idea,’ said Henry. ‘But how are you going to pay for the dinner party?’

She had counted her small store over and over again. It was inadequate. If she spent all she had she could provide the banquet… and what then?

Yet it was necessary, she knew; and this was the moment. She knew that if she delayed and lost this opportunity it would mean waiting for another; and by the time that came it might be possible that they would become known as the poor Howards, deeply in debt… hangers-on like so many more.