The Queen was silent, but her lips tightened and a wary expression came into her eyes. Walpole was conscious of this and was immediately alert.

‘I fancied she was a little insolent to me,’ he went on, ‘as though she almost resented my visits to Your Majesty.’

‘Clayton is a good woman,’ said the Queen rapidly. ‘She has been vith me for a long time. I find her an excellent servant.’

‘Ah, these women, they work well for a while and then it occurs to them that they are indispensable. It seems to me that Mrs Clayton at times almost believes she is Your Majesty.’

The Queen laughed uneasily.

‘I certainly think that she believed herself to be of greater importance than Your Majesty’s ministers.’

‘I vill speak to her,’ the Queen promised.

Sir Robert turned the conversation to his brother-in-law Townshend. ‘It would seem, Madam, that we are surrounded by those who would flout us. Townshend is becoming intolerable.’

‘Then,’ replied the Queen almost blithely, ‘vile ye vork to keep Mrs Howard, ye must plan to rid ourselves of Lord Townshend.’

Walpole plunged into an animated account of his relative’s shortcomings, but all the time he was wondering what had happened between the Queen and Mrs Clayton to make the Queen so uneasy when she was criticized. Had the woman some hold over the Queen? That seemed impossible, but naturally Walpole must make it his business to find out.


* * *

Lady Masham from her retirement in the country was very ready to help Mrs Howard with her little problem. The bedchamber woman, it seemed, must always remember that she was in an inferior position to the Lady of the Bedchamber. When the Queen put on her shift, although the bedchamber woman brought it to the chamber, she must hand it to the lady to put on. As for the basin and ewer, this must be brought in by the bedchamber woman who should put it on to a table before the Queen. Then the woman must kneel beside the table while the lady looked on. When the Queen began to wash her hands the woman then rose and poured the water over Her Majesty’s hands. The bedchamber woman must not forget that she was not a Lady of the Bedchamber.

In view of such corroboration from one who had long served a Queen and was acquainted with every rule of Court etiquette Henrietta could only humbly admit her fault and when she next presented the basin and ewer remained on her knees in the required manner.

Caroline showed that she bore no resentment, and only felt relief that there were now no difficulties between her and her good Howard.


* * *

Now Caroline and Walpole could devote their attention to Townshend. He was a man Caroline had never liked. He was quick tempered, domineering and jealous; and at the same time puritanical. His dislike of his brother-in-law had been growing since his wife Dorothy—Walpole’s sister—had died, and was now more like hatred. There was nothing to keep the two men together; and there was a great deal to separate them.

Townshend deplored Walpole’s way of life which he considered highly immoral. He was irritated, too, because Walpole had built Houghton, a magnificent country mansion in Norfolk not far from Townshend’s own splendid house at Raynham. They were both proud of their estates and sought to rival each other; and whereas the Raynham house had at one time been the finest in the neighbourhood, Houghton under Walpole’s extravagant care began to rival it and then outshine it.

At Houghton Walpole had one of the finest collections of pictures in the country. He had made a fortune out of the South Seas Company and had stocked his house with treasures. Raynham was decidedly put into the shade.

Moreover, to Houghton came those who were seeking places at Court; it was an honour to be invited; Walpole kept an open house and spent vast sums on entertaining. The wine flowed liberally and there were many what Townshend called ‘drunken orgies’ taking place frequently at Houghton. These parties were the talk of the countryside. They were extremely costly but Walpole did not care. He was a man who liked to surround himself with drinking companions and he found plenty ready to enjoy his lavish hospitality. To Houghton he often brought Maria Skerrett who presided over the parties with him; and the sounds of singing and laughter so disturbed the peace of the countryside—so said Lord Townshend—that when Walpole was at Houghton he found it necessary to leave Raynham.

The brothers-in-law had quarrelled over the Treaty of Seville which Walpole had carried through in a manner which was not in accord with Townshend’s wishes. While Townshend was shocked by Walpole’s profligacy, Walpole sneered at what he called Townshend’s hypocrisy.

The antagonism was at its height when one day at the Queen’s levee Caroline asked Townshend where he had dined.

Townshend replied: ‘With Lord and Lady Trevor, Your Majesty.’

At this remark Walpole who was standing by the Queen’s chair became very alert. Lord Trevor had succeeded the Duke of Kingston as the Lord Privy Seal a few years previously, although Walpole had thought him scarcely the man for such an office; and as the rift between Walpole and Townshend widened so had Townshend drawn closer to Trevor. Lady Trevor, his second wife to whom he had been married for nearly thirty years, was an old and actually a very ugly woman and noted as much for her virtue as for her lack of beauty.

Walpole laughed and said in a voice which could be heard by all surrounding the Queen: ‘Madam, I think Lord Townshend is growing coquet. After all he has had a long widowhood. He has called so frequently at Lord Trevor’s house recently that I suspect he has designs on Lady Trevor’s virtue. That is the only reason I can think of to account for it.’

Townshend’s temper flared up and he regarded his brother-in-law with hatred. ‘I am not one of those fine gentlemen, sir,’ he cried, ‘who indulge in folly and immorality even though they are of an age when one would have hoped they might have been past such manners. Youth and idleness would not, in my opinion, excuse such conduct, but often this deplorable way of life is adopted by those who should know better. There are liberties, sir, which I am as far from taking as I am from approving. I have not the constitution that requires such practices, a purse that can support them nor a conscience that can digest them.’

Walpole smiled cynically and said quietly: ‘Why, my lord, all this for Lady Trevor! ‘

Caroline was annoyed with Townshend because he had so far forgotten his respect for her as to attack Walpole in her presence. He should have made some light response as Walpole had to him; and if he wished, take the matter up with his brother-in-law at some later date.

Townshend had turned to Walpole, his fists clenched, but Caroline said: ‘I think it is time for cards.’

And even Townshend knew that that was an order for him to say no more.


* * *

Townshend must go. That was what the Queen said to Walpole. She had no intention of upholding a man in a high position who had sought to curtail her powers when she was Regent. Townshend must go, said Walpole to the Queen. He was developing a hatred for his one-time friend and ally which could only bring disaster.

‘All went well enough,’ Walpole confided to the Queen, ‘when the firm was Townshend and Walpole. Now it is Walpole and Townshend, he does not like it.’

‘There is only one thing to be done, my good Sir Robert,’ replied Caroline. ‘It must be Walpole alone.’ ‘There is the King,’ Walpole warned her.

She knew that well enough. George had to be made to believe that Townshend should be asked to resign and that was not easy, for George liked Townshend, who had accompanied him on his journey to Hanover. Townshend was a good man, but not as important as Walpole certainly.

They would have to be very careful in condemning Townshend to the King.


* * *

Every time the brothers-in-law met there was trouble, and this came to a head at the house of a Colonel and Mrs Selwyn who had invited them to dine at their house opposite St James’s Palace.

Townshend arrived ready to take offence and expecting it. Walpole was nonchalant, seeming at ease, but determined not to let a chance of plaguing Townshend pass by.

Dinner began and Walpole drank with his usual abandon while Townshend was his abstemious self. They were soon engaged in a disagreement which threatened every minute to turn into an open quarrel. The host and hostess were uneasy; the rest of the guests expectant.

And when Walpole cried: ‘Sincerity? What is sincerity? There is no man’s sincerity I doubt so much as yours, my lord!’ Townshend lost his temper. He leaped from his seat spilling wine over the table and took his brother-in-law by the throat.

Walpole threw off Townshend and the two men stood for a few seconds glaring at each other malignantly; then Walpole clapped his hand on his sword and Townshend did the same. The hostess shrieked and there was clamour throughout the dining room.

‘I must stop this,’ cried Mrs Selwyn. ‘You shall not fight in my house.’

But Walpole had drawn his sword and Townshend had done the same.

‘No! ‘ screamed Mrs Selwyn and ran towards the door with the intention of calling the palace guard.

One of the guests stopped her.

‘There’ll be such a scandal. It will be all over the town if you call the guards. Sir Robert! My Lord Townshend ... for God’s sake put your swords away.’

Eeven Townshend’s temper had cooled a little and he was thinking how ridiculous it was for two middle-aged men—one the premier statesman of the land—to be facing each other, swords drawn at a dinner party.