The point was, of course, that when the time came he could not find the money so he had to borrow it from Dodington.

There was nothing unusual in this but for the fact that Frederick who, in the more refined company of Chesterfield had begun to tire of Dodington, boasted that he had wheedled the money out of Dodington who would never, very likely, see it again, as though in deceiving his onetime friend he had done something very clever.

‘A very odious young gentleman,’ commented Lord Hervey to Sir Robert Walpole when the latter came to the Palace to spend his usual session with the Queen.

To which Sir Robert replied, ‘You see into what honest and just hands the care and government of this country is likely one day to be committed!’

Lord Hervey agreed with him and asked himself how he could ever have looked upon that odious young gentleman as a friend.

His increased rancour towards the Prince made him think of Miss Vane and wonder how that ménage was faring. Thus when he occasionally saw the young woman he would look her way and she would look at him.

Her beauty had not diminished; in fact being the Prince’s acknowledged mistress had given her a new poise which was very becoming.

Lord Hervey noticed that she no longer gave him cold looks, but was warm, even inviting; and the prospect of what this could lead to was irresistible.

He had heard that she often took a walk in St James’s Park for her health’s sake and he contrived to be walking there at the same time.

They saw each other, but as Anne had a companion with her, did not speak. But on the next day Anne sent her companion back to her house for a glove which she said she had left behind and this gave her the opportunity to speak to Lord Hervey.

‘What a handsome woman!’ he said as he approached her.

‘What a handsome man! ‘ she retorted.

‘But I thought,’ Anne remarked with a laugh, ‘that they hated each other.’

‘You know they could never do that.’

‘It was jealousy,’ said Anne.

Hervey agreed, adding: ‘But we must waste no more time.’

‘I shall be joined by my companion soon. She has gone back for my glove. She’ll be here at any moment. She must not see us together. I no longer trust anyone and if it should get to Fred’s ears ...’

‘There is a coffee house,’ said Hervey, ‘behind Buckingham House. Let us meet there tomorrow afternoon and make ... plans.’


* * *

It was more than plans they made in the coffee house. They were both intrigued by the adventure. Anne admitted that she had always preferred Lord Hervey to any of her other lovers. He did not explain that his desire to revenge himself on the Prince of Wales was part of her attraction for him; in any case she was a very personable young woman; and her years with the Prince of Wales, being courted, meeting his friends, men of far greater intellect than his, had had their effect on her.

But she was ready for adventure, too. She had never meant to settle down, which was more or less what she had done since the birth of little FitzFrederick, and living in an establishment set up for her by the Prince of Wales had meant that she could not easily take other lovers.

It was amusing to arrive at the coffee house adequately disguised and mount to one of the rooms which the coffeehouse keeper kept for occasions such as these, to lock the door and laugh together at the success of their adventure.

And when they had made love she would tell him all the latest exploits of the Prince of Wales—how he was growing more and more tired of Bubb Dodington; how Bolingbroke was constantly with him, advising him this way and that; and how Lord Chesterfield was beginning to take the place which Dodington once had held, only of course the Prince could never despise him as he had poor Bubb. And the amusing thing was that it was Bubb who had introduced him to Mr Lyttleton who was becoming such a close friend and who was working hand in glove with Lord Chesterfield.

‘Poor Bubb!’ said Anne. ‘I don’t think he is going to last much longer.’

Then she would try to remember everything the Prince had said and done because her lover found that all so interesting; and as she was more devoted to Lord Hervey than to any lover she had ever had she wanted to keep him; therefore it was pleasant to have not only her considerable charms to offer but information which amused him so.

Every time they left the coffee house they made arrangements to meet again.

As they walked in the gardens the King talked to the Queen about the war in Europe.

This was the war of the Polish Succession. Louis XV had a Polish wife and he wanted to secure the throne for her father, Stanislaus Leczinski; Russia, Austria, and the German Princes backed the claims of the Saxon Elector, Augustus III, and when Louis had put his father-in-law on the throne the Russians had driven him from it and made Augustus King. The French, therefore, always with new territorial claims in view, instead of declaring war on Russia which was too far away, turned on Austria as the best way of helping Stanislaus Leczinski. But the real aim of the French was to oust the Habsburgs and secure French supremacy in Europe.

The Emperor naturally looked to his two allies, Holland and England.

The Princess Anne’s new husband went off to fight and the King was eager to do the same; and this was the theme of his conversation as he walked in the gardens with the Queen.

‘We must tell the fat man (his name for Walpole) that I am determined to go to war.’

‘Walpole is against England’s going into the war.’

‘Then he must change his mind. It is England’s duty to be in this war. Why should I stand by and see other generals win the laurels which by rights belong to me!’

‘We must persuade him,’ said the Queen. ‘We must make him see that it is our wish.’

‘Send for him! Send for him as soon as we return to the Palace.’

‘Shall we return now?’

The King hesitated and looked at his watch. Not even for the sake of the war would he interrupt a habit.

‘Fifteen minutes more,’ he said.

Caroline sighed inwardly. Her legs ached. They were becoming more and more swollen and the pain was increasing. She was beginning to dread these walks; she was terrified that she would betray the fact that they were too much for her.

‘We shall soon have Anne back with us,’ she said.

It was an unfortunate remark because it reminded the King that Anne’s husband, the Prince of Orange, had gone to the wars and that was why she would be able to pay a visit to her parents so soon after her marriage.

‘That baboon! He can go to war. He can win distinction in battle while I ...’

‘We will talk to the fat man,’ said the Queen.

He glowered at her, venting on her the anger he felt towards a fate which denied him battle honours.

‘And who are you to laugh at the fat man? We should call you the fat woman. The way you stuff away at your chocolate is the cause.’

She was silent, hoping no one had heard, for he had raised his voice and their attendants always kept a respectful though not too remote distance as they walked.

Why did she not retort: And you, you silly little man, have scarcely a thought in your head that doesn’t spring from your own vanity.

Then she fell to wondering why it was that in spite of all his faults she was fond of him and could not imagine her life without him; and she knew that in spite of the way in which she constantly irritated him he admired and loved her more than any other person on Earth. If anyone else had attempted to criticize her he would have fallen into a passion of rage. She was his, entirely his, and to him only belonged the right to abuse.

She sighed and gave her mind up to the persuasion she would use with Walpole, for this was one of the rare occasions when she and the King were on one side against the Prime Minister.


* * *

Walpole faced them in the King’s closet. He was as determined as they were. England was not going to war. Usually he could rely on the Queen, but this time she was against him.

Germans! thought Walpole. Both of them, and in an issue like this it comes out. But England is not going to be sacrificed for the sake of Germany for a hundred Kings and Queens.

‘Your Majesties, the English people want peace. They have no heart for this fight.’

The King’s eyes bulged with fury. ‘We have our duty to think of.’

‘I know Your Majesty will agree with me that our first duty is to the people of this country.’

‘It is the people of this country I think of.’

‘Then Your Majesty will rejoice in the prosperity we have brought to them and join with me in admitting that this prosperity is entirely due to peace.’

‘And when the French are in command of Europe what peace then?’

‘Your Majesty, countries rarely prosper from wars. This will be no easy conquest. And in the unlikely event of Louis’ and Fleury’s conquering Europe, France will be exhausted by the struggle and we so strong because of our exemption from it that we will be in command.’

‘We have our duty,’ said the King. ‘The Queen and I cannot hold up our heads if we desert our allies.’

‘Your Majesties will hold up your heads very proudly among the English if you keep them out of war.’

The King began one of his harangues, not very logical, not very lucid, thought Walpole. What a German he is! His heart is in Germany. And he’s a fool—a conceited fool who wants to plunge this country into war so that he can parade as a brilliant soldier, so that he can come home and wear the crown of laurels. But it shall not be. This is my country as well as his and I am going to keep it at peace.