Indiscretions of the Queen Read online

  She recalled her anger and how she had almost returned to Brunswick before the funeral. It would seem that she was to be slighted everywhere.

  How strange when she considered what a forceful young woman she had been at home in England as the Princess Royal.

  But Charles had changed her. From the moment she had realized he intended to be master and had accepted her inability to prevent it, she had sunk meekly into her place, had borne his children— and the fact that the three boys were abnormal had perhaps contributed to her meekness accepted Madame de Hertzfeldt and even allowed her children to have some respect for the woman.

  Now she sighed and thought of Charlotte soon to leave her home for a new life with a husband.

  ‘I pray,’ said the Duchess, ‘that she is more fortunate than I.’

  Charlotte was a dazzling bride, for she was very pretty.

  ‘When she has gone,’ Caroline told the Baroness, ‘I shall be the prettiest princess at the Court because being the only princess I must be the prettiest.’

  ‘You occupy your mind with matters of no importance,’ she was reproved, at which she retorted that her beauty was of great importance. Did the Baroness forget that one day very soon— she would have to please a husband?

  The Baroness sighed and reminded her of the serious little girl she had been and how when she had been asked in what country the lion could be found replied stoutly: ‘In the heart of a Brunswicker.’

  ‘I have heard the tale many times,’ said Caroline yawning. ‘What a horrid little creature I must have been— even worse then, than now.’

  ‘It was a good answer,’ replied the Baroness, ‘and I trust you will never forget it.’

  ‘Ah,’ retorted Caroline, ‘there is a sequel to the story. You’ve forgotten how I escaped from you all at carousel and rode round and round on the horses which was very dangerous you said and for which I should be punished, until I pointed out that fear was something a Brunswicker knew nothing about so how could you expect me, a Brunswicker, to be aware that I was causing you anxiety.’

  ‘You have always—’

  ‘Talked too much. So you have already told me. And I will repeat that when Charlotte has gone, I shall be the prettiest princess in Brunswick.’

  But never, she thought when she was watching her sister at the wedding ceremony, as pretty as Charlotte.

  She gazed at her father standing erect beside the bride ready to pass her over to her prince.

  Dear Papa, he is the greatest man in the world, I believe, she thought. Neither of us will ever find a man to compare with him. And she began to picture herself standing there, all eyes on her in her bridal gown with the shadowy figure of a bridegroom beside her.

  Later at the banquet in the great hall at the place of honour and Caroline continued to watch them. Charlotte was very gay, almost hysterically so. I know exactly how she feels, thought Caroline . For I should feel exactly the same.

  How she would miss Charlotte! She turned to her brother Frederick William and said to him: ‘There are only the two of us left now, for you can’t count the others.’

  Frederick looked rather shocked, but she laughed at him. It was silly to pretend. Everyone knew their brothers were shut away from the rest of the family because of the affliction, so why pretend?

  Her eye caught that of John Stanley, the English boy who clearly showed how much he admired her. She would take the first opportunity of talking to him.

  When the dancing began she went to him smiling. His eyes were full of admiration. ‘Of course,’ she said, ‘I am not supposed to talk to you in this way.’

  ‘N— no, Your Highness.’

  ‘But who cares for rules and etiquette? Do you?’

  ‘Not if you do not wish me to.’

  ‘Let us join the dancers. Then we shall be less conspicuous. Then I can talk to you. You will find that I talk a great deal. You come from England, do you not?

  As you know the Duchess is English. She cannot forget it, and nor are we allowed to. Oh, you are shocked. How delightful! Do you think I am so very shocking?

  But of course you do, and it would be foolish of you not to, because I am.

  Shocking and indiscreet.’

  ‘Your Highness, I think you are—’

  ‘Yes, come along. Don’t hesitate. I dislike hesitation.’

  ‘I think you are very handsome.’

  ‘You think my looks are handsome, but that my speech is forward and immodest and just what a princess’s should not be?’

  ‘I think that only sweet words could flow from such lips.’

  ‘Oh, what a charming compliment. I do believe, John Thomas Stanley, that you have fallen in love with me. Oh, don’t deny it. It is all very right and proper, for if my sister has a lover, why should not I?’

  John Stanley was overcome with dismay and pleasure. The Princess Caroline was not only the most beautiful girl he had ever met, she was the most unusual.

  Her conduct was noticed.

  What can one do with such a girl? sighed her mother to herself. She is wild— like all of them. We can only pray that she is not too wild. Her father promised himself that he would reprimand her later, but she would be sad missing Charlotte, so let her amuse herself a little on Charlotte’s wedding day.

  Madame de Hertzfeldt was asking herself how much like her brothers Caroline might be and what was the right treatment to mete out to such a girl. A great responsibility rested on her guardians she felt sure. She must choose an opportunity to speak to the Duke about his younger daughter when matters of state were less burdensome.

  So Caroline flirted openly with John Thomas Stanley; and when it was necessary to say goodbye to Charlotte the young man did much to reconcile her to the parting.

  ‘What I shall envy Charlotte most,’ declared Caroline to the long suffering Baroness de Bode, ‘will be her children. Oh, Baroness, how I long to have a child.’

  The Baroness folded her hands together and looked up to the ceiling.

  ‘Now Baroness, what is wrong with that?’

  ‘It is an immodest subject.’

  ‘Nonsense. How could the world go on without children?’ ‘It is immodest for a young girl to— to—’

  ‘To talk of adding to the coming generations? But surely that would be a benefit to mankind. Admit it, Baroness.’

  ‘Your Highness, I do not know what will become of you. I tremble to think.’

  ‘Then you should think more, Madam, and it would, with practice, become less of an effort. That might cure the trembling. A little baby— a dear little baby — ! What a miracle! When shall I have a husband? How tiresome, that one must have a husband before one can have a baby, for do you know, Baroness, I think I should almost prefer the latter to the former.’

  The Baroness put her fingers to her ears.

  ‘Pray remove your fingers,’ cried Caroline. I promise you I will no longer assault your ears. Instead I shall go to see my children.’

  Caroline flounced out of the schoolroom, leaving the Baroness murmuring to herself: Should I speak to the Duchess? But of what use? It will have to be to Madame de Hertzfeldt. And what can one expect in a household when the wife takes second place to the mistress? Meanwhile Caroline rode out of the palace. She should have taken a groom with her, but she had no intention of doing so. First of all she would call on the newest arrival— a baby boy three weeks old. He had been a little sickly at birth and was improving now. She had ordered the cooks to send food to the household, for if the baby were to thrive, the mother must be well fed.

  There he was in his crib. She lifted him out . I think he knows me. Look, he is smiling. She was happy, sitting in the old wooden rocking chair holding the baby. How they adored her, these cottage people. They called her ‘Good Princess Caroline’.

  Good, she thought, for doing what I want. How easy it is to be good. She told the mother that food would arrive the following day and she would see that the baby was properly clothed. And after that she went on to see he
r next protégé. The people cheered her as she rode through the town They had all heard stories of her love for children and how households containing them benefited.

  Any mother in distress only had to ask help from Princess Caroline and it came— not as they had been accustomed to receiving help from royalty, not an impersonal steward distributing a few comforts at Christmas-time, but with genuine interest. It did one good, many had said, to see the Princess Caroline come into a humble room and take a child upon her knees.

  She never did so without saying to herself ‘Oh, if only I had a child of my own!’

  Caroline cannot go to the Ball

  THE months flew by— one year, two years. There was little news from Charlotte, except that she had given birth to a child. Lucky Charlotte!

  ‘When will there be a suitor for me?’ Caroline demanded not only of the Baroness de Bode but of her older governess, Baroness von Münster.

  ‘When the time is ripe your parents will answer that question,’ replied the Baroness von Münster.

  ‘Then I pray it may be soon,’ replied Caroline, and was silent, for she dare not bait the elderly Baroness as she did poor Madame de Bode.

  To the latter she remarked that if her parents did not provide a husband for her soon she would have to find one for herself.

  John Thomas Stanley was no longer at the Court. In any case she had not been seriously concerned with him. She began to look about her. There was the young Count Walmoden who had royal blood in his veins because his grandmother had been the famous mistress of George II of England. And there was another descendant of George II, the Count von Schulemberg, who was reputed to be very rich indeed, having inherited some of the vast wealth which Ermengarda von Schulemberg, Duchess of Kendal, had amassed during her long reign as the king’s favourite.

  Would such young men be considered suitable consorts? Of course not. How exasperating to be a Princess and have to wait until a husband was chosen for one! If she were a commoner— not like the people in the cottages, of course, but a Baroness like Madame de Bode— she could go to the ball next week and perhaps there meet a man, fall in love, marry and have children. What bliss!

  The Baroness de Bode decided that she must really speak to someone about Princess Caroline and that meant of course speaking to Madame de Hertzfeldt.

  The Duchess was too vague; moreover she was English and somewhat at odds with her children’s governesses because she was constantly reiterating that they should be educated in the English way, which seemed absurd. How could the Princess be educated in the English manner without English tutors? And of what use would such an education be since she was German? And what, the Baroness asked herself, was the English method of education? If the Duchess was an example of it, then, for the sake of the Princess, she should be educated as a German.

  What a household, where one must speak to the father’s mistress rather than the mother of one’s charge! But there was no help for it and no matter how resentful a good and somewhat puritanical woman like the Baroness de Bode felt when contemplating the situation, in the presence of Madame de Hertzfeldt she could have nothing but respect for that lady.

  She was granted an audience immediately, for Madame de Hertzfeldt considered the bringing up of the Duke’s daughter a matter of great importance.

  ‘I am disturbed, Madam, by the Princess Caroline,’ began the Baroness.

  Madame de Hertzfeldt sighed. Were they not all disturbed by the royal children? ‘She speaks constantly of marriage— men and children.’

  ‘It has been so since the Princess Charlotte married?’

  ‘Yes, Madam.’

  ‘She is now approaching the age her sister was when she married.’

  ‘That’s true, Madam, and I am a little fearful. I was wondering whether her freedom should be restricted a little.” Madame de Hertzfeldt was thoughtful. One would have to go very carefully.

  She said: ‘Thank you, Baroness. This is a matter of some importance. I will speak of it to the Duchess.’

  The Baroness retired, knowing that the admirable Madame de Hertzfeldt would speak to the Duke and together they would decide what should be done; then they would give the Duchess her instructions as to what orders she was to make known to the Princess’s governess.

  It was, of course, admitted the Baroness, the discretion one would have expected from Madame de Hertzfeldt and this discretion was no doubt the reason why she reigned supreme in the Court of Brunswick.

  ‘Not go to the ball!’ cried Caroline, her eyes flashing. ‘And why, pray?’

  ‘Because,’ replied the Baroness, ‘it is decided that you shall not go. You are too young as yet to go to balls.’

  ‘I— too young— when I have been at balls since before Charlotte’s marriage.

  Am I growing younger then, Madam, that I have suddenly become too young?’

  The Baroness said that there was no point in discussing the matter further for the orders had come to her and she had obeyed them.

  ‘So my mother has decided this, has she?’

  ‘It has been decided,’ replied the Baroness.

  ‘Stop talking like a silly old oracle. I tell you I will go to the ball— I will— I will!’

  When Caroline talked like that she was really alarming; her eyes seemed to grow black and her face flushed scarlet.

  There was nothing the Baroness could do but leave her.

  Caroline lay on her bed biting her fists in fury. ‘I must go to the ball,’ she murmured. ‘Perhaps tonight will be the most important night in my life. Perhaps tonight I shall meet my lover. I will go to the ball. I will. Why should they stop me? There is Charlotte— married at sixteen. And I am nearly sixteen and not allowed to go to the ball. I won’t have it. I won’t.’

  But what could she do? The realization of the futility of this increased her anger. I have no ball dress? Nonsense. I’d wear an old one. I’d go in as Aphrodite. I’d go as anybody— The laughter started to bubble up, uncontrollable laughter. Imagine her entering the ballroom as Aphrodite. She would demand they announce her. ‘My lords and ladies, the Princess Caroline is unable to attend tyranny and in her place Aphrodite has risen from the sea— to attend the ball.’

  And there she would be— stark naked. Imagine her mother’s face!

  Oh, my dear, how shocked they will be at the English Court if they hear of this!’ And why? she would like to know. Cousin George, Prince of Wales, was rather a shocking young man himself. He, too, chafed against restriction. How frustrating parents were! How they spoilt their children’s lives!

  No, even she could not do such a thing. Her invention would not desert her.

  She would think of a way of punishing them for not allowing her to the ball.

  From her window Caroline saw the had lined the streets to see the guests arrive in their gowns and glittering jewels. One of the most elaborate balls ever given at the Ducal Palace and the Princess Caroline not there to enjoy it!

  She pictured her father and mother at the head of the great staircase receiving their guests. Deep curtsies; sweeping bows; and in command— Madame de Hertzfeldt, whom everyone would know was the real hostess; and if they wanted any favours it was to the mistress they must go, not to the wife.

  And she, Caroline, should have been there, standing beside her parents, receiving the bows and curtsies— homage due to the daughter of the house.

  None of the children would be there. She and Frederick William were the only ones who could be, and Frederick William certainly was a little young.

  ‘But I am sixteen,’ she cried. ‘It is cruel and wicked to stop me from going to the ball. And I’ll make them sorry for this.’

  She started to laugh, contemplating the plan which had been in her mind all day. She had felt it was far more workable than the Aphrodite one and would cause them even more distress. And serve them right!

  Her father would now be opening the ball. Now was the moment. She undressed, flinging her clothes about the room; then she took a pot of
paste from her cupboard and smeared it over her face. The effect made her chuckle. It was horrible, It made her look like a ghost. She raised her eyes in an expression of agony. Wonderful! She looked like a girl about to breathe her last.

  She got into bed and began to scream.

  Two of her serving maids came running in.

  ‘I— I think I am going to die,’ she said. ‘Pray— go— quickly. Bring the Duke and the Duchess.’

  Her maids stared at her as she fell back on her pillows, making queer rattling noises in her throat. Terrified they ran off.

  Caroline pictured the scene in the ballroom: the frightened maids appearing suddenly, forgetting all etiquette in view of the startling news they had to convey, ‘Oh, my God,’ said the Duchess, and looked as if she would faint.

  But the Duke was beside her. ‘We will go to her at once.’ He glanced at Madame de Hertzfeldt who could always be relied on in a crisis.

  As they hastily left the ballroom he heard her explaining to the guests that the Princess Caroline was indisposed and that this was the reason for the temporary absence of the Ducal pair.

  The whole ballroom was abuzz with the news. The Princess Caroline taken suddenly ill. What an unfortunate family. Those three boys— Meanwhile in Caroline’s bedroom her parents were gazing in dismay at her livid features distorted into an expression of agony.

  ‘My child!’ cried the Duchess. ‘Where is the pain? Pray tell us— if you can.’

  Caroline could scarcely keep back her mirth.

  ‘I— I cannot hide it any longer,’ she said. ‘I— I am in labor. Pray send at once for an accoucheur.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ cried the Duchess again.

  The Duke had turned pale. ‘It is not possible—’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ cried Caroline. ‘I fear so. I am about to give birth to my child— and if you do not send for an accoucheur immediately, I shall die— and the child with me.’