Queen in Waiting: (Georgian Series) (35 page)

‘You would never have to bring your brother here, Your Majesty. The very mention of his coming would so alarm the Prince that he would agree to do whatever you asked of him to prevent it. No, it is a threat merely. Let me see that it reaches his ears as a rumour – that is all. If it does not have the desired effect, well then, we shall have to allow him to keep Argyll. But it is not good for Your Majesty to be flouted. We have beaten off the Jacobites; we cannot allow the Prince to triumph over the King.’

George grunted; then he slapped his thigh.

‘All right,’ he said, ‘we’ll try it. But I’d rather keep Argyll in the Prince’s service than have Ernest Augustus here.’

‘If Your Majesty will leave this little matter to me, I will see that it reaches the Prince’s ear… unofficially.’

The Prince stalked up and down his apartment, his eyes bulging with rage while Caroline did her best to calm him.

‘And you think ve can be calm! This is an outrage. Bring my uncle to England! Vat vill the people think? That I… the Prince… am not capable enough to have the charge of this country?’

‘He vill not bring your uncle here.’

‘But this is vat I hear. I hear they are vorking out their plans.
He… and his Germans! The English vill not haf it. They vill vant their Prince.’

‘Of course. This is a threat… it is no more.’

‘But I tell you this: they are planning it. Bernstorff, that man… I do not trust. I tell you the English vill not have.’

‘Of course they vill not have. They vill say “Ve vill haf the Prince. Ve love the Prince. He is von brave man.” They vill remember how you acted in the theatre.’

George Augustus’s face lightened at the memory. ‘No,’ he said, ‘the people vill not haf.’

‘But,’ went on Caroline, ‘the King may bring his brother here. Ve cannot say vat the King vill do.’

George Augustus stamped. ‘I vill not haf it.’

‘In time,’ said Caroline, ‘ve haf our own court… our own friends. It is not yet. So far ve cannot be sure. So it is better to…’

George Augustus was staring at her.

‘I do not think Argyll is vorth ve should make such trouble for ourselves.’

‘You mean… ve give vay!’

‘It is sometimes better to… at the beginning, as you tell me.’

He had not told her but he was ready to believe he had and it was the way to make him accept the idea. Caroline saw clearly that they could bring great trouble on themselves by clinging to a principle. What mattered now was that the Prince should have power when his father was away. That would give them the opportunity they needed to build up a court, to seek friends and supporters. It would be George Augustus’s rehearsal for that day when he was in fact King of England.

He was hesitating.

She went to him and slipped her arm through his. He liked these little displays of affection between them.

‘You vill be von great ruler,’ she said. ‘People do not understand this until you have had this chance to show them. This vill give you the chance. Many are already on your side. They do not like the King. He does not like them and makes no pains to hide this. They do not like. But you will be their hero. You will show them how much better ruler you are. Then if the King
tries to rule you… he vill not be able to because the people vill be with you… and it is at the last the people who decide who shall be their Kings.’

He looked at his wife, but he was not seeing her. He saw himself riding through the streets of London, acclaimed by the people. It was true he was more charming than his father. Who could be less? The people cheered him in the streets. He was almost English already and his father would never be.

‘Your father must not bring your uncle here,’ said Caroline. ‘Ven the King goes to Hanover you must be Regent.’

‘It’s true,’ he said. ‘Nothing must stop that.’

‘Nothing,’ she agreed. ‘Not even Argyll.’

‘Then…’ he began.

‘You must go to your father. You must say you vish to please him. This you must say.’

‘I hate to do it.’

‘This I know. But as you say it must be done. If you say to the King: “I vill give up everything to please you and live in amity with you. I vill as you vish part with the Duke of Argyll”, then he can haf no excuse. The Regency vill be yours. It is a small price to pay for the Regency.’

He stood, still scowling, his heavy jaw thrust out giving him the sullen look which made him resemble his father.

‘It vill be goot,’ she said. ‘You vill be as King. Who knows he may be away… months… a year or more. Then you vill show this pipples how much better king you vill be. Your court vill you have. Nothing vill be the same after that… even ven he comes back. If he ever does. He is a fool. He loves Hanover better than he love England. Let him have Hanover. Let us make England for us.’

The Prince nodded slowly.

‘Go to him I vill,’ he said. ‘I vill tell him that I vill dismiss Argyll because it is his vish.’

‘Go now,’ she said. ‘Vaste no time. If he sends for your uncle it vill be too late.’

The Prince went at once to the King, and Robethon was delighted with the success of his plan.

In spite of the fact that George Augustus had given way and the
Duke of Argyll and his brother Lord Islay had been dismissed from their public posts, the King was still determined not to give his son the Regency.

He argued with his Council that the Prince was too irresponsible.

His German advisers were firm in their views that harm could come of giving the Prince too much power; the English ministers declared that the Prince, being of age, must necessarily take the Regency.

If George had not been so eager to see Hanover he would have abandoned the whole project; but he was so heartily sick of his new country and so fervently longing for his old, that he was determined to make the trip whatever the consequences. Moreover war was imminent – war which would involve Hanover – and he wanted to make sure that if Hanover should need the support of England, Hanover should have it.

Marlborough, backed by his forceful wife, always ready to seek a way back to power, suggested that six men should be chosen who would support the Prince in his Regency and have equal power with him. This idea enchanted Marlborough, for he saw himself as one, with four of his friends – possibly members of his family – who would sit in Council with the Prince and in fact govern the realm with the Prince as the mouthpiece. A project after his own heart.

But the days of Marlborough’s glory were long behind him. Walpole and Townsend laughed at the Duke’s temerity behind his back. The old man must be getting senile to think he could get away with that one! They smiled to think of him hatching it with Sarah – and being so unaware of the decline in their fortunes as to think such a suggestion could be anything but laughable.

Townsend, as Prime Minister, had made his decision. The King did not like him so he already had one foot in the Prince’s camp and he had made up his mind that his support was going to the Prince.

He addressed the Council, telling them that there was no precedence for what was suggested. Never before when a Prince of Wales had been of an age to become Regent in the absence of the King had he been asked to agree that others should join with
him. The Prince would be working in collaboration with the Parliament and that was according to the laws and customs of England.

‘I will not have him Regent,’ cried George. ‘This would give him too much power. He would have a position similar to that now held by the Duke of Orleans. This is a different matter. Louis XV is a minor, and the Duke is in all but name King of France. To be Regent at this time in France is to be King. It must not be so here. Regent he shall not be called. My son must not have the power of a Regent. His talents do not justify this.’

The members of the Council were silent for a while; and then Townsend said: ‘There is another title which was once used in England. It is Guardian and Lieutenant of the Realm. It implies a guardianship without the power of a Regent. Does Your Majesty think this could be bestowed on the Prince of Wales? It would give him a title without great power. It would thus preserve his dignity while giving Your Majesty less cause for anxiety.’

‘I will look into this,’ said George. ‘I think it may well be what we need.’

‘Guardian and Lieutenant of the Realm!’ cried George Augustus taking off his wig – a familiar habit when incensed – and first stamping on it and then proceeding to kick it round the apartment. ‘I am Regent. I vill be Regent.’

‘This is not bad,’ soothed Caroline. ‘Vait till he is gone… just vait. That is all. Vat we must do is make this pipple love us. This ve can do. Ve vill have our court. It vill be as though ve are the King and Queen. And if anything goes wrong… it is not your fault. You are only the Guardian of the Realm… not the Regent. As soon as he has gone ve shall show the pipple how much more pleasant it is ven you are King.’

‘Guardian of the Realm!’ growled George Augustus.

‘Vat do the pipple know of that? Vat do they care? It is the pipple’s love ve vant, George Augustus. It is friends… Ve vill have our court. To it vill ve invite those who vill help us most… and those who are not pleased vith the King. Never mind if they call you Regent or Guardian. This is your chance to show this pipple vat a King you vill be.’

His scowl lightened; he picked up his wig and put it on his head. He stood on tiptoe; he looked in the mirror. He was already seeing himself as King.

‘This is my chance, Caroline,’ he said. ‘That is how I see it. Guardian of the Realm! It is an insult. But vat does the name matter? They vill see, these dear good pipple, vat a King I shall be. They vill long for the day… just as I do. And it vill come.’

She smiled at him; she was growing more fond of him as time passed.

There was excited activity at St James’s, but no one was more excited at the prospect of leaving England than the King; he was almost jovial – a mood in which many of his subjects had never seen him before.

Mustapha and Mahomet were, of course, going with the King; but they were not very pleased. Life had offered them far more in England than it had in Hanover. They had been able to give out many of the smaller posts in the King’s household and they had quickly discovered how they could make a profitable business of this.

They had laughed together at the grumbles of the King’s courtiers who asked: Who ever heard of a king who would have only two Turkish servants to assist him at his toilet? This had been a longstanding ceremony in the life of English kings and this German had substituted two Turks for all the gentlemen who could have had lucrative posts in his household.

Just another crude habit of a coarse-minded king, said the disappointed gentlemen; but Mahomet and Mustapha had developed a talent for greed; so they were not pleased to be taken from the happy hunting ground.

Stanhope was uneasy. He was to accompany George to Hanover, leaving Townsend and Walpole behind. He would, of course, have the ear of the King, which was important, but how could he know what was going on in the mind of Townsend and the even more wily one of Walpole? What would they be doing while he was away?

The King’s two mistresses naturally accompanied him – the Maypole and the Elephant. Kielmansegge was not eager to go; she had found lovers among the English and she was growing
to like them better than the Germans. Moreover, in Hanover was their old rival the Countess von Platen, who would of course welcome George very affectionately – and even a man of habit as he undoubtedly was could not help being glad of a change.

And Ermengarda? A little while ago she would have been delighted to go to Hanover. That was when she was afraid for the King’s safety. But why go now when the horrible Pretender had shown he could do nothing against the King and had scuttled back to France? Why not stay in England where life was really more comfortable and there were so many perquisites for those in favoured places? Oh, yes, Ermengarda would rather have stayed in England.

At the same time she was fond enough of George to be pleased to see him happy. So with her usual placidity she prepared to accompany her lord to Hanover.

There was one other at St James’s who rejoiced as wholeheartedly as George – and that was Caroline, for she saw clearly that the pattern of life had changed. She was no longer going to pretend she was trying to please the King. She had had to come out into the open.

Very well, they were rivals. And while he was away she was going to lay the foundations of that court of which she would one day be Queen.

They understood each other, and George could not help but admire Caroline.

He found himself saying now and then: If she were not my own son’s wife…

She was a damned fine woman. Large enough to please him physically; and it occurred to him that he might even enjoy pitting his wits against hers. It was the first time he had ever thought of a woman having wits – except his mother, of course; and there was his sister Sophia Charlotte who had been a clever woman.

Then he would yawn and think of Ermengarda on whom he had come to depend. She would never have been the comfort she had been if she’d had wits.

Uncomfortable things, wits in women. It was a good thing Caroline was his son’s wife. A good thing, too, that he was never
a man to put himself out to pursue a woman. He’d always thought that a waste of good time. There were women enough about for his needs.

To Caroline’s astonishment the King announced that he would spend his last evening in her apartments.

She expressed her pleasure and arranged that a brilliant gathering should be there that he might honour them with his company.

He came – almost excited. No one had ever known him so pleasant.

It was not a very good impression to make, thought Caroline gleefully. He is happier than he has ever been since his coming to England – and the reason? Tomorrow he is leaving it. Oh, his English subjects will love him for this!

All to the good. They could turn their affection to his son.

George Augustus was there. She could hear him talking.

‘How happy I am that I do not leave with His Majesty. That is a thing I could not endure. It is because I find the English the best pipple in the vorld…’