Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series) (25 page)

BOOK: Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series)
9.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Caroline obeyed and the Countess stood on the other side of the Electress.

‘Let us walk in the orangery,’ said Sophia. ‘I always enjoyed the orangery, and I think it is particularly beautiful on a summer’s evening.’

As they came into the orangery, Sophia began to talk, as usual, of England.

‘I should like to know what the people of England think of Anne’s refusal to invite us. Surely they would wish to see us there.’

‘The Queen’s health is even worse than usual, so I believe,’
replied Caroline. ‘But she has been on the point of death so many times.’

‘Poor soul!’ sighed Sophia. ‘I am sorry for her. Hers has scarcely been a happy life. As a girl she was so delicate. Why, when her sister Mary was being married to Orange, she was on the point of death through the smallpox. She has faced death so many times that she must be prepared. How grateful
I
am for my good health. I hope death, when it comes for me, will snuff me out like a candle. That’s the best way.’

‘I believe it to be the best way,’ agreed Caroline. ‘What a pity we cannot all choose our way of going. But the subject is a morbid one. If Marlborough were here he might be able to give us some news, although I confess I don’t altogether trust Marlborough.’

‘There are very few one can trust, alas,’ said Sophia. ‘I am fortunate to have you here with me, my dear. I can talk openly to you of these matters which are of such importance to us all. I only wish I could feel so confident of everyone. These are difficult times… and full of significance for our house. Once I am in England everything will be so different. How I long to be there!’

‘It can’t be long now,’ said Caroline.

‘Perhaps Your Highness would care to sit a while,’ suggested the Countess.

‘No, I prefer to walk. As I have often told you, there is nothing so good for the health as walking. What a beautiful day it has been.’

Sophia was silent suddenly, for through the greenery she had caught a glimpse of George Lewis walking in the gardens with Schulemburg on one side and Kielmansegge on the other.

She sighed. ‘What a spectacle! Are there two more unattractive women at this court? But I suppose when they first became his mistresses they were more attractive.’

‘The Elector is faithful, according to some standards,’ replied Caroline.

‘I prefer the tall malkin to the fat hen. The first is at least faithful to him. I don’t understand my son. I never did since he was three years old. Sometimes I think he is a clever man, at others a fool.’

‘There are so many different sides to all of us,’ said Caroline; and she was thinking of Sophia – so discreet at Hanover, so reckless in her correspondence with Elizabeth Charlotte; so restrained in the matters concerning the Court of Hanover; so transparent in those concerning the Court of St James’s. A woman with a single purpose – to be Queen of England. Perhaps that was the explanation of every action.

‘Take care,’ said Caroline, suddenly realizing that Sophia was growing very breathless. ‘You are going too fast.’

‘I daresay I am,’ replied Sophia.

‘Your Highness,’ began the Countess, and stopped, for Sophia had swayed towards her. Between them the Countess and Caroline caught her.

‘Help me to get her to a chair,’ said Caroline quickly; but even as she spoke she felt the Electress’s body limp in her arms.

Tenderly they lowered her to the ground; she lay back, an odd pallor in her cheeks, her eyes turning glassy.

‘Call for help… quickly,’ cried Caroline; and the Countess ran out of the orangery into the grounds.

As Caroline knelt beside Sophia a terrible desolation came to her. ‘Can you… speak to me…?’ she whispered.

Sophia’s glassy eyes were on her face… fixed… lifeless. You must get well, thought Caroline. I can’t lose you as well…

George Lewis had come into the orangery. Caroline was aware of the startled faces of his two mistresses, but all that was admirable in George Lewis was uppermost on an occasion such as this.

Without showing the least sign of agitation he knelt beside his mother and felt her pulse. Then he sent one of the guards to bring him some
poudre d’or.
‘Quickly,’ he said. ‘There may be time.’

Caroline brought a cushion and placed it under Sophia’s head.

‘When did it happen?’ asked George Lewis.

‘Quite suddenly. We were walking and talking… and suddenly she fell.’

George Lewis nodded and said no more and a few minutes later the guard returned with the
poudre d’or
which George Lewis forced into her mouth.

‘It may revive her,’ said Caroline.

‘If it is not too late,’ replied George Lewis, in a flat, unemotional voice.

What was he thinking? wondered Caroline. How much did he feel for his mother? Did he recognize her virtues or had she been to him nothing but an interfering old woman? Whatever he felt, George Lewis would not betray it.

The physician had arrived. Kneeling beside the Electress and looking from George Lewis to Caroline he said: ‘There is nothing we can do.’

‘So she’s dead,’ said George Lewis, final, matter-of-fact.

‘I fear so, Your Highness.’

‘It can’t be so,’ began Caroline; but George Lewis ignored her.

‘She should be carried into the palace,’ he said.

So the body of Sophia was carried into the palace which she had loved beyond all others. Queen Anne lived on, but Sophia, whose great ambition had been to succeed her, had been – as she herself would have said – ‘snuffed out like a candle’.

No one mourned Sophia as sincerely as Caroline. Not since the death of Sophia Charlotte had she felt so desolate. It was true that now she was married and had her own children; but the Electress had been like a mother to her and she had loved her dearly.

Now there was no one to share her liberal ideas, no one to whom she could turn for advice.

She was very melancholy, but after a while she became philosophical. Nothing ever stood still. The Electress Sophia, like her daughter Sophia Charlotte, had taught Caroline invaluable lessons, and she would best preserve their memory by profiting from them.

Yet the gap left by Sophia’s death was immeasurable. The children were too young to be of much help to her. George Augustus? She had long since learned that she could expect little from him. She must however be grateful to the Electress who had taught her how to govern without seeming to, how to win through secret diplomacy.

‘I shall never forget,’ said Caroline. ‘Never.’

July was an uneasy month. Rumours came thick and fast from England. Queen Anne could not live much longer.

George Lewis shrugged his shoulders. He was not deeply concerned. He had no wish to go to England; Hanover was good enough for him.

‘If the English showed any sign of not wanting me,’ he said, ‘I would show them very clearly that I did not want them.’

He had thought of being King of England at some future date; but Sophia’s death had placed him in the direct line.

To go to England would be a great upheaval, and at fifty, if one were not an ambitious man, such disturbances were to be avoided.

‘The English!’ he said. ‘Bah! It is not long since they lopped the head off one King, and that King’s son was sent into exile. What sort of people are they?’

If it had been Sophia’s burning desire to be Queen of England, George Lewis’s might be said to be to stay in Hanover.

During the first days of August, James Craggs came riding breathlessly to Hanover; before even seeing his mistress, the Countess von Platen, he presented himself to her protector, George Lewis.

‘This really is the end, Your Highness,’ he assured him. ‘The Queen is dying. Indeed I am ready to stake my life she is already dead.’

George Lewis looked at the young man – one whom he regarded as his own kind – bucolic and shrewd without any fancy manners; the fact that he was the lover of George Lewis’s mistress was a further bond between them.

George Lewis thanked James Craggs and told him that he appreciated his loyalty, and James went to his mistress and told her that soon they would all be in England.

George Lewis retired early and alone. It had come; he was sure of it. It would be an entirely new life. He would have to go to England – but he could postpone that; he would become ruler of a country of some standing in the world. Different, as his mother had often pointed out, from a little German state.

But, George Lewis promised himself, even though I may
have to reside in England, I shall frequently visit Hanover. Hanover is my own country. I shall never forget that – nor shall the English.

He settled himself to sleep.

George Lewis was aroused out of his sleep.

‘What hour is it?’ he demanded.

‘Two o’clock, Your Highness.’

‘Then what is the meaning of this?’

Before his servant could reply he was aware of a man at his bedside whom he recognized at Lord Clarendon, Envoy Extraordinary from England.

He did not like Clarendon, whom the Queen had sent to Hanover, because as first cousin to Anne he had worked entirely for the Queen, and George Lewis had always regarded him as a kind of spy. Moreover he knew that Clarendon had not been in favour of the Hanoverian succession and was at heart a Jacobite; so, having been awakened at two o’clock in the morning by a man whom he disliked, who had come to tell him something which he knew already, this disturbance did not give him great pleasure.

‘Clarendon,’ he said, raising himself on his elbow. ‘What’s this, Clarendon?’

‘The Queen is dead, Sire. Long live George the First of England, Scotland and Ireland.’

George Lewis grunted.

‘Your Majesty, I await your commands,’ said Clarendon.

‘You’d better stay in Hanover till I leave,’ said George.

‘Yes, Your Majesty. And for the moment?’

‘Leave me,’ said George Lewis, and settling down into his bed, promptly fell asleep.

Thus George Lewis, Elector of Hanover, had become George the First of England.

Royal arrival

IF THE NEW
King was not excited by the prospect of leaving Hanover for England, everyone else at the court was. Who should accompany him? Who should stay behind? These were the important questions of the hour.

In their apartments Caroline discussed the change of fortune with George Augustus. They both now had a new and glorious title: Prince and Princess of Wales. George Augustus was carried away by excitement. One day he would be the King of England.

‘George the Second,’ he murmured to himself.

All he had to do was wait for his father to die and the old man was already past fifty.

He could scarcely wait to get to England. He discussed the matter continually with Caroline, to whom he had grown closer since the death of his grandmother and that – to him – much more significant event, the death of Anne.

Caroline was a good wife and he had no regrets at having married her. She had proved herself to be reliable in the past
and was doing the same now. Always she talked of
his
interests, as a wife should; and since these were in direct opposition to those of his father, this made an intriguing subject.

‘We should get to England as quickly as possible,’ she reminded him. ‘Your father’s delay is nothing short of foolish. What will the English think of a King who holds their country in so little regard that he delays going immediately to accept the crown they are offering him? But I’m glad he is so stupid. It gives us an opportunity to show we are different.’

George Augustus nodded. ‘We will show them how much more agreeable we are.’

‘Speaking English is a great advantage and yours has improved greatly in the last months.’

A reference to Henrietta Howard, but it was given genially and sensibly and accepted in the same manner.

‘And yours is good. Just imagine! My father cannot speak a word. What a fool that man is.’

‘Yes, but let us be glad of his folly. When do you think we shall go to England? It will be wonderful. I picture us riding through the streets with little Fritzchen beside us and all the girls. The people will see that we can give them heirs. How much more we can give them than your father. They’ll know about your mother…’

George Augustus’s face darkened as it always did at the mention of his mother. ‘It’s his own fault,’ he said. ‘He treated her badly and the people of England won’t like him for it.’

‘They won’t. And we shall be there with the children… speaking in English, showing them how much we, at least, appreciate being in the country. There are glorious days ahead of us. And George Augustus, we shall always work together. We shall always be loyal to each other. Your father will regret the day he left himself without a wife.’

George Augustus was content. He had been the wise one. His father had been the fool.

He would go off now to see his mistress, which he did regularly to the actual hour; he would tell her that he had the best wife in the world, and she would agree with him.

He was indeed a lucky man.

George Augustus would have been dismayed if he could have heard the conversation between his father and chief minister Bernstorff.

‘It’ll be necessary to watch the Prince,’ Bernstorff was saying. ‘His knowledge of English will be a great advantage to him, and you may be sure he will seize it.’

‘Perhaps it would be better to leave him in Hanover.’

Bernstorff was thoughtful for a moment, then he said: ‘Who knows what harm he would do at home! Better perhaps to keep our eyes on him. In that case he should come with us. The English will want to see the Prince of Wales.’

The King grunted. ‘Would I could send him to England and stay here!’

‘Fatal, Your Majesty. Fatal. The Jacobites would have James on the throne in no time. In any case we don’t know what opposition we have to face when we get there.’

‘I know it. We’ve had them here swearing allegiance, but I wouldn’t trust any one of them. They’re all like Marlborough, ready to turn their coats with a change of the wind.’

‘We must remember it, Sir, here in Hanover and more especially when we set foot in England. That is why I think that while we must take the Prince of Wales with us, we might leave the Princess to follow later.’

Other books

Bad Heir Day by Wendy Holden
Armies of the Silver Mage by Christian Freed
I Think of You: Stories by Ahdaf Soueif
A Life by Italo Svevo
A Different Blue by Harmon, Amy
Murder in Foggy Bottom by Margaret Truman
Johnny Angel by DeWylde, Saranna