Виктория Холт - Caroline the Queen

It always came back to Hanover.

* * *

Life, thought Caroline, was becoming almost unbearable. The King’s continual irritation was hard to bear, more so now than it would have been earlier for she was more and more unable to ignore her illness.

There had been one or two occasions when she had almost fainted at a levee and it was only due to Charlotte Clayton and Lord Hervey that she had managed to hide this. Charlotte had now become Lady Sundon for her husband had been raised to the Irish peerage as Baron Sundon of Ardagh; and this fact had given Charlotte even more prestige in the Queen’s bedchamber.

Charlotte was very angry at the King’s behaviour and didn’t hesitate to say so.

‘It is bad enough,’ she said, ‘to have these wantons in England, but when they lure the King from his duties to his country and exert their influence from across the seas I don’t know what things are coming to!’

It distressed Charlotte to see the Queen so saddened, for in the privacy of the bedchamber the Queen could not always hide her sorrow.

Charlotte often felt that she could have slapped the little man for his lack of consideration; she would have liked to pack him off to Hanover where he could have vented his ill humour on That Woman. But of course he would have been all sweetness to her; for the very reason that he was so bad tempered was because he was separated from her.

‘Your Majesty should stay in bed for the rest of the day,’ Charlotte said one afternoon when the Queen was preparing to rise from the after dinner nap.

‘Impossible,’ said the Queen. ‘His Majesty will be coming in less than an hour to walk with me.’

‘Your Majesty is unfit.’

‘I am well.’

‘Not well enough, Madam. I know ...’

The Queen silenced her with a look. She knew. Yes, she knew! Oh, my God, why did she ever discover! thought Caroline. If this were known it would be the end. He would never return to her. It would be his excuse. And gradually he would slip away, for there was never a man more held by his emotions. The woman who shared his bed could share his confidence.

A curse on encroaching age, on female ailments, on all that could come to a woman.

How peaceful it had been when he was away in Hanover —and how dangerous it had proved!

Far from resting in bed she must rise earlier, for it took longer to dress.

Her feet were so swollen that they would not fit into her boots.

Lady Sundon was looking at them in dismay which turned to a sort of triumph. ‘Now Your Majesty will be forced to rest. I will send to the King and say that you are unwell.’

‘I forbid you to,’ said the Queen shortly.

‘Your Majesty, you cannot ...’

‘Bring me a bowl of cold water ... as cold as it can be.’

‘Cold water, Your Majesty.’

‘That is what I said, Lady Sundon.’

Charlotte dared not disobey when the Queen spoke in that voice, so she retired and in a short time returned with the required bowl of water.

The Queen signed for her to put it on to the floor and when she had done so plunged her bare feet into it.

Your Majesty! ‘ cried Lady Sundon in alarm.

But the Queen, wincing a little, managed to smile at her.

After some minutes’ immersion in the ice-cold water the Queen was able to put on her boots and by the time the King called she was ready for their walk.

He looked a little disgruntled to find her on time because he had hoped to scold her for being late; however, he would soon find something of which to complain.

Lady Sundon looked after them as they left the apartment. She was very worried about the Queen’s health.

* * *

Caroline tried to fight off the feelings of fatigue—and, more trying still, the nagging pain.

It has worsened, there was no doubt of that; but she would not admit it. Far stronger than any discomfort was the urgent desire that no one should know.

So she smiled and pretended she was well and meekly accepted the King’s perpetual scolding.

But there were times when it was almost impossible to go on doing this.

One of these occasions occurred one morning when the King had been particularly unkind. She had borne all his complaints patiently and only the slight flush in her cheeks and the rather nervous movement of her hands betrayed her emotion.

Lord Hervey was in attendance with the Princesses and, as the King was about to leave for his own apartments, she could not hold the words which rose to her lips.

‘As Sir Robert Walpole has always been a particular friend of mine,’ she said, ‘and as he seems to be the only person at Court who is in Your Majesty’s good graces, I think I shall ask him to speak to Your Majesty on my behalf in the hope that he can persuade you to soften your treatment of me.’

The King stopped and stared at her. The whites of his eyes seemed to turn red.

‘I do not know what you mean by these complaints,’ he said.

The Queen merely smiled, which made the King grow more angry; but even he was aware of the worsening of his temper since his return from Hanover; and his anger took the form of self-pity.

‘I am ill,’ he said, ‘and I believe nobody is in the same good humour sick as well. And if I were well, do you think I should not feel and show some uneasiness for having left a place where I was pleased and happy all day long and being come to one where I am incessantly crossed and plagued?’

The Queen was suddenly stung to a retort which astonished all those who heard it.

‘If Your Majesty was so happy at Hanover why did you not stay there? I see no reason that made your coming to England necessary. You might have continued there without coming to torment yourself and us, since your pleasure did not call you. I am sure your business did not, for we could have done that just as well without you, and you could have pleased yourself without us.’

The King was so astonished at this outburst that he could think of no retort.

He was trembling with rage as he stalked out of the room.

Later Lord Hervey discussed the incident with the Queen.

‘Your Majesty has endured so much that it was time you said what you did.’

‘I fear I have shocked him deeply.’

‘Madam, is it not time that he was shocked deeply?’

‘I think he is a little repentant. He is much quieter. And he has promised me some fine horses for my coach. He says they are some of the finest he has ever seen.’

‘He must have brought them from Hanover.’

‘He did.’

‘Where,’ went on Lord Hervey, ‘horses like everything else in that paradise are much finer than they are in this poor island.’

The Queen laughed. ‘I hope you do not let him hear you talk thus.’

‘He would think I was showing good sense ... for once. But, Madam, why has he given you these horses? Firstly to show you how much finer Hanover horses are than English ones; and secondly that you may have the expense of feeding them.’

‘You are wicked, mon enfant. But what I should do without you to make me laugh in these trying times I do not know.’

THE Prince of Wales was the only member of the Court and royal family who escaped the King’s bad temper. George’s attitude to his son had not changed since his return from Hanover because he had ignored him before he went away and continued to ignore him.