Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series) (46 page)

BOOK: Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series)
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‘Yes, Your Majesty.’

‘And what of your wife?’

‘She has refused, Your Majesty.’

The King knew of this and he had not insisted at the time
because he had thought it would plague Caroline, and do George Augustus no good in the eyes of the people, to keep his mistress.

But the affair seemed to be accepted and Caroline no doubt saw that it was conducted with decorum.

The King nodded. He saw the chance of making trouble with a little scandal.

‘It is your duty to insist that your wife leaves Leicester House and comes to you here.’

Henry Howard bowed and said he would obey the King’s orders.

When Henrietta received a letter from her husband demanding that she return to him and leave the household of the Prince and Princess of Wales, she did not take the matter seriously. She knew that Henry was drinking heavily, that he did not want her and was in fact glad to be rid of her; so she ignored the letter and forgot about it. But a few nights later there was a disturbance at the gates of Leicester House. Next morning everyone was talking about it and when Henrietta went into the apartment where the maids of honour were noisily discussing it, there was a silence.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘Did you hear the noise last night?’ asked Molly Lepel.

‘Yes. What was it?’

‘A… a man… the worse for drink. The doorman turned him away but he was shouting for a long time.’

Mary Bellenden said gravely: ‘It was your husband, Mrs Howard. He was asking for you. He said he wanted to take you away with him.’

Henrietta turned pale and said: ‘There is some mistake.’

No one answered; and Henrietta went to Caroline’s apartment to tell her what she had heard.

Caroline listened gravely. ‘Do you think he really vants you to return to him, Henrietta?’

‘No.’ Henrietta was shivering with apprehension and Caroline had never seen her so before.

‘You’re frightened, Henrietta.’

‘I could not live with him, Madam. He is a drunkard. He’s a
brute. He ill-treated me before. I have never been so happy as I am here with you… and the Prince.’

And the Prince! thought Caroline. How much does he mean to her? Can she really care for him? Surely not! She wanted peace and comfort; she did not seek power or great riches, but this life suited her and she was in terror of losing it.

‘It is strange that he should come here. There must be some meaning behind it.’

Caroline did not say that she suspected the King, for poor Henrietta was in such a state of anxiety to which this could only add.

‘Don’t fret,’ said Caroline. ‘I shall not let you go. If I send this brute avay… avay he must go. Do not fret, Henrietta. Here shall you stay.’

Henrietta was comforted; but she was uneasy. So was Caroline. Could the man force his wife to live with him? And if he took this matter to court and if the court decided that a husband had rights over his wife, must Henrietta go? And then would George Augustus be seeking a new mistress… or mistresses? Young girls of the bedchamber who lack the tact of Henrietta, who might have to be taught that familiarity with the Prince did not mean that liberties could be taken with the Princess?

A few days later Caroline received a letter from the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Marriage was a sacrament, he pointed out. The Princess would do well to bear this in mind. She must bear in mind the privileges of a husband and the duty a wife owed to him. She must therefore command a certain woman of her household to return to her husband and remember that although she was a Princess she had a duty to God.

Caroline read the letter thoughtfully.

Why had the Archbishop written to her? Would Henry Howard have gone to him and drunkenly suggested that he should do so?

Of course not. She saw the hand of the King in this.

Slowly she tore up the Archbishop’s letter.

Caroline was resting. It had been a heavy dinner and she
followed the Hanoverian custom of retiring afterwards. In his apartments George Augustus would be sleeping heavily; and afterwards he would come to her apartments and they would take a walk together.

She was thinking of Henrietta and what steps the King might take to force her to send the woman away. What an implacable enemy he was, and how he hated them! Not content with striking the worst blow any man could give any woman by taking her children from her, he must think of these little pinpricks to torment her.

She heard a scuffle at her door and rising from her bed, she threw a robe about her.

‘I will see her,’ cried a voice. ‘I insist. You can’t keep me away.’

The door was flung open and a man with bloodshot eyes, his coat bedraggled, his wig awry, burst into the room.

‘Who…’ began the Princess.

‘I’m Henry Howard,’ he cried. ‘And I’ve come for my wife.’

‘How dare you. Go away at once. You vill hear more of this.’

‘And so will you, Madam, if you hide my wife. Where is she? In the Prince’s bed? I tell you I’ll have her out of that. I’ll have her where she belongs.’

‘This is very unseemly,’ said Caroline, and wondered how she remained so cool; for she had heard Henrietta say that her husband was half mad and when he had been drinking, entirely so. Certainly he had been drinking now.

‘Do not think that I shan’t have my wife. If I have to pull her out of your coach, I’ll get her.’

He stood before her, hands on his hips, his bloodshot eyes leering. The window was behind them and for one moment Caroline thought that he was going to pick her up and throw her out of it.

She was aware of the open door and one of the footmen standing there, mouth agape. She managed to move swiftly from the window and as she stood with her back to the footman facing the window, she felt safer.

Her moment of complete panic had passed.

‘I assure you no one vould dare take any servant of mine from my coach.’

He was aware of the footman and the open door, for he lost a little of his truculence. Caroline was quick to seize the advantage.

‘Your wife shall certainly not be forced to go vith you. It is a matter she herself vill decide. If she vishes to go vith you that is her affair.’

‘Madam, I warn you I shall take my case to the King.’

‘Do so if you vish. The King has nothing to do vith my servants. And if you do not leave my presence immediately you vill be thrown out.’

Henry Howard gaped at her for a few moments; then he muttered something, bowed and went out.

Caroline shut the door quickly and leaned against it.

This had gone farther than she had thought. Henry Howard would never have dared break into her apartment, he would never have spoken to her as he had if he had not had the support of the King behind him.

Henrietta came running into the apartment, her hair hanging in disorder, her eyes wide with terror.

She threw herself at Caroline’s feet and embraced her knees.

‘Oh, Madam, Madam… he has been here. He will drag me away. What shall I do?’

‘Be calm, Henrietta. This is the King’s doing.’

‘The King!’

‘Ve must face the truth. He only vants to cause more trouble, more scandal for us.’

‘Madam. You don’t want me to go away?’

Caroline’s face hardened. ‘Vat! And play right into their hands. No. Ve must fight them. If they take this to a court ve must let them know what sort of a man your husband is. Ve’ll prove him the cruel half-insane creature he is. That von’t look so veil for one of the King’s servants, vill it?’

‘But he can take me away… Oh Madam…’

The Prince burst into the apartment, his face pink, the veins knotted at his temples, his eyes blazing.

‘Vot the devil…’

‘Mrs Howard’s husband has been here demanding her return.’

‘She shall not go. I vill not it allow.’

‘No, ve vill not allow it,’ said Caroline.

‘Got damn him,’ cried the Prince and taking off his wig
started to kick it round the apartment.

Caroline caught it as it came her way. She picked it up and gently replaced it on his head.

‘It is not goot to disturb ourselves,’ she said gently. ‘Ve vill this matter settle.’

Henrietta raised her eyes to Caroline’s face and her look was almost trustful; the Prince was undoubtedly soothed.

Even in this, thought Caroline, they look to me; and the thought gave her a grain of comfort.

The King lost interest suddenly; he had achieved his purpose; everyone knew that Henry Howard had broken into the Princess’s apartment and drunkenly demanded she give up her husband’s mistress and that she had refused to do so. It made an amusingly ribald story and the lampooners were busy with it.

This could bring little credit to Leicester House, thought the King.

Henry Howard however, did not see why he should abandon a project which could be profitable and decided to take the matter to court. Everyone concerned knew that the law could force a wife to return to her husband and all sides were in a panic – Henry Howard because he did not want his wife back and Henrietta, the Prince and Princess because they feared she would have to go.

It was an absurd situation. Howard’s advisers suggested he ask for a reasonable settlement from the Prince on receipt of which he would be prepared to let the matter drop.

Negotiations went on through the winter and when the Prince and Princess of Wales moved to Richmond for the summer, Henrietta left, disguised, with the Duke of Argyll and his brother Lord Islay – two of the Prince’s greatest friends – and arrived at Richmond earlier than the royal party.

Eventually the matter was settled. Henry Howard would allow his wife to remain in the Princess’s service for an annual payment of £1,200 a year.

He believed he had come out of the affair very nicely. As for the Prince, the Princess and Henrietta, they could only be delighted that the affair was over; and Caroline began to wonder whether the quarrel might be mended, for while this unhappy
state of affairs continued they could expect such unpleasantness from the King. Moreover the longing to have her children with her was becoming too acute to be endured.

Time was passing. They were growing away from her. Should she seek some compromise?

She was beginning to think she would agree to almost anything if she could have her children back.

She was turning over in her mind whether Sir Robert Walpole might have some suggestion to make.

The reconciliation

IT WAS WALPOLE
himself who suggested the reconciliation.

The King, unable to stay away for long from his beloved Hanover, had paid another visit and had left a Council of Regency, consisting of thirteen Lord Justices to govern during his absence, in which the Prince of Wales had no part.

Caroline had realized then that she and the Prince had everything to lose from the continuance of this quarrel. Walpole, during his visits to Leicester House, had made her aware of the situation in Spain where the all-powerful Cardinal Alberoni ruled for weak Philip V. As a guest at this court was James Stuart, known there as James III of England, and the Spanish were ready to help him drive out the Hanoverians.

‘They believe,’ Walpole had explained, ‘that the people are weary of Hanoverians and that they long for the return of the Stuart.’

‘Do
you
believe this to be true?’ asked Caroline. ‘I want a truthful answer please.’

Walpole had looked her straight into her face and said: ‘Madam, anything but the truth between us would be both pointless and dangerous. I do not believe the people of England
are tired of your family; but I do believe they are tired of your family quarrels.’

‘Then let us end them,’ she cried passionately. ‘I would be prepared to immediately.’

‘There would doubtless be conditions on both sides.’

‘There is only one condition I should insist on: the return of my children.’

‘There is the Prince,’ Walpole reminded her.

‘I would do anything… and persuade the Prince to… if I could have my children back.’

Walpole smiled slowly. ‘It must be arranged,’ he said.

And her hopes were higher than they had ever been. There was a strength about Walpole. She trusted him.

George Augustus was not easy to control. He deeply resented the fact that he had been left out of the Regency. He talked slightingly of his father and Caroline was anxious because she knew that the King’s spies were everywhere and that they would report every word that was said.

‘My father thinks he has the better of me,’ boasted George Augustus. ‘But time vill tell. He is getting old and can’t live forever. Then it vill be my turn. Things vill be different then.’

Caroline shivered. The last thing any man – king or commoner – wanted to hear was how much better his successor would carry out his tasks when he was dead.

George came back from Hanover. The Spanish attempt to put James back on the English throne had failed but there were Jacobite rumblings all over the country.

Furious with his son, having heard that he had boasted of what he would do when he was king, George tried to pass the Peerage Bill through the Commons and Lords. This proposed to limit the House of Lords so that when the Prince became king he would be unable to create any new peers.

This bill almost became law, but Walpole made such a brilliant speech against it that it was rejected. Stanhope and his ministers had long been trying to persuade Walpole to come back into the Government but he had held back and had professed himself content with the rebuilding of Houghton and the collection of pictures, content now and then to take his seat in
Parliament and play the part of an ordinary member.

This was not true, of course. He was an ambitious man; he loved the country life, it was true; he liked to drink with congenial companions; but he was well aware that he was a master of politics and he longed for power.

He pointed out to Stanhope that this quarrel in the royal family was undermining the country’s prestige abroad. Time which should have been given to serious matters was taken up in petty spite and pinpricks.

‘If there is a reconciliation between the King and the Prince I should come back into the government… not otherwise,’ he declared. And when Stanhope asked if he could bring about that reconciliation, he said he would try to.

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