Виктория Холт - Indiscretions of the Queen

She put on the wedding dress and in the Chapel Royal to St. James’s she made her marriage vows with the Archbishops of Canterbury and York presiding, and the King giving the bride away.

She was radiant and the bridegroom seemed well satisfied; but the King was so ill at ease that many who watched the ceremony wondered whether he was sickening for another bout of his illness. Later in the Queen’s drawing room, he talked incessantly and it was clear that he did not like parting with his daughter.

The Princess Royal suffered no qualms at parting with her family. She was at last married and all the fears and omens had come to nothing.

She embraced her brothers and sisters with affection; then she left St. James’s to spend a few days at Windsor before setting off with her husband for her new life in a strange country; and it seemed that the ghost of his first wife troubled neither of them.

Caroline, who had attended the marriage, remembered him from all those years ago; but he did not wish to remember.

Caroline grimaced inwardly. I’m the outsider, she told herself. The family don’t want me here. But perhaps the one who was most anxious for her absence was the bridegroom from Würtemburg.

CAROLINE had accepted her life. The Prince would always hate her; he would, if he could, separate her from their daughter but this was not in his power while the King remained her friend. She was grateful to the King, the only member of the royal family whom she could trust, but naturally the most important, for in the end if he insisted that something be done so it must be.

He visited her often; they talked of the Princess Charlotte and he told her how worried he was about Amelia’s health. Caroline always listened intently and although the King had to admit that her manners were too free and her conversation a little coarse and that she laughed too loudly and was too familiar, he always added a rider: She was affectionate and he liked to feel affection in the family.

The Queen ignored her— more than that, she would do her harm if she could.

Caroline retaliated by laughing behind Her Majesty’s back at her odd little habits of which she read in the press. Her snuff-taking, her careful scrutiny of accounts, how she kept her tippet in a paper bag to prevent its getting dusty— as though she were some farmer’s wife. But Caroline knew that the Queen was not merely a figure of fun; she was a sinister power in her life. ‘The old Begum,’ she would say, ‘what is she up to now?’

But the days she spent with baby Charlotte made up for any disappointments in her life. How she loved to romp with the child! They would crawl about the floor together and Charlotte would give imperious orders and show quite clearly that she adored her mother. If she could only have the child with her she would have been perfectly happy; but she had to realize that as a royal princess, a possible Queen of England, Charlotte would had to receive an education which it was not in Caroline’s power to give her.

But she was a baby yet and there were happy time together.

Caroline was not allowed to return to Carlton House and Charlotte continued to live there with her governess and nurses; but the King arranged that Caroline should oft visit her daughter and that Charlotte should often stay Charlton with her mother.

‘Dear old George,’ said Caroline to Miss Hayman, who was a very special friend. ‘A pity he had to marry the old Begum. He deserves better.’

Miss Hayman, like everyone else, thought Caroline’s speech and manners very wild and free; but that did not disturb Miss Hayman; and she often visited Caroline at Charlton to tell her what Charlotte had been doing and to repeat her clever sayings.

When the Prince heard of the friendship between Caroline and Miss Hayman he dismissed the latter from Princess Charlotte’s household, so Miss Hayman went to serve that of Caroline.

The Princess was becoming extremely popular. She only had to ride out into the streets and a little crowd would gather to cheer her. When he heard of this it infuriated the Prince, for the more people liked her the less they liked him.

He could not understand why this rather slovenly, non-too-clean creature with her too-ready and too-loud laughter, her flamboyant manner of dressing, her tactlessness and whole lack of grace should have so caught the public imagination But the fact remained that she had.

He was ashamed of her; and while he determined to shut her out of his life as much as he could he was desperately longing to bring Maria Fitzherbert back into it.

Caroline meanwhile had moved to Montague House, near Greenwich Park, which was more suited to her rank than the little house in Charlton and she set out to make this an inviting centre for amusing people. Strangely enough she did attract to it some of the most brilliant men of the day. The chief of these was the great politician, George Canning. This further enraged the Prince, who could not understand how such a man could find anything in Caroline’s household to attract him. Other important influential people followed Canning’s example and it seemed inevitable that Montague House should become a rendezvous for those who disapproved of the Prince.

But Caroline longed for her daughter and since she could not have her all the time she took up a hobby which had been hers in Brunswick and adopted children from the surrounding neighbourhood. She would call at any house, however humble, if there were children there; and she only had to hear of an orphan to take the child into her special care.

This project filled a great deal of her time because she made it her duty to see that the children were placed in households where they would be well looked after; she founded a little school where they could be taught; she treated them as though she were their mother and no matter how poor and sick they were, she cuddled and kissed them, showering her affection on them.

People were surprised to see her pick up a child with open sores on its face and tend them herself.

She loved children. She adored her own daughter; but since she was allowed to see her only occasionally she created her own little family about her.

This was one of the reasons why she was so loved by the people who saw in her a good kind woman who had been badly treated by their profligate Prince.

And so the next few years passed.

Maria read the appeal. She must come back to him. She was his dear wife, his angel. He did not know how she could be so cruel to him. He admitted that he had been the victim of a mental aberration when he had thought he could do without her. But she had been a little cross with him at time, she had lost her temper, she would admit. Not that he did not deserve all the abuse she had showered on him.

She was his angel and he was foolish and in need of forgiveness.

But how could she have believed he had been serious when he had sent that note telling her he did not want to see her again! Why hadn’t she realized it was meant as a joke? Why hadn’t she laughed at him and refused to believe it? Did she not know that he was her faithful husband until death did them part?

Maria wept as she read the letter recalling that period of desolation when he had left her, thinking of the happy times they had shared together at Kempshott when he was so deeply in debt that he had had to close part of Gariton House.

Could she go back? No, of course she could not. He was married to Caroline of Brunswick and that marriage was accepted in the eyes of the law which meant of course that that ceremony which they had gone through in her house at Park Street was considered to be no true marriage after all.

‘I could never go back,’ she told Miss Pigot. ‘It was different before this public marriage. Then I believe many people accepted me as his wife. Now no one could, for to do so would be to imply that the Princess Charlotte is illegitimate.’

‘These rules and regulations,’ sighed Miss Pigot. ‘What are they? You know you’re his wife. I should have thought that was good enough.’

‘You are trying to tempt me.’

Ah, thought Miss Pigot, so she admits it is a temptation! Miss Hayman brought the news to Montague House.

‘The Prince is courting Mrs. Fitzherbert very ardently.’ ‘Well, I hope he’s successful,’ cried Caroline.

‘People are saying that he’s as much in love with her as he was in the beginning.’

‘We should drink to the success of our fat lovers,’ laughed Caroline.

Miss Hayman was surprised at the Princess’s attitude; but Caroline was always unaccountable.

‘Come, fill a glass and drink with me. I have said that I hope he won’t feel me to be an impediment to his reconciliation with the lady.’

‘Your Highness has said that?’

‘Oh come, Hayman, let us be honest. I don’t want the man.’ She shuddered.

‘That wedding-night of ours. He was drunk. It was the only way he could face me. How many brides do you think have a husband who spent his wedding-night lying under the grate?’ She began to laugh and Miss Hayman joined in, for if the Princess saw the matter as a joke she was prepared to do the same.

‘I’ll tell you something, Hayman,’ went on the Princess. ‘I’ve made many faux-pas in my life as you can imagine, but the biggest one I ever made was to marry Mrs. Fitzherbert’s husband.’

She began to laugh immoderately.

Lord Cholmondeley did not know how to lift his master from his despair. He was continually being summoned to talk about the Prince’s problem.