Authors: Cheyenne

o b464705202491194 (45 page)

‘A great favourite with the Princess, Lady Charlotte. He is in constant

attention. He’s the chamberlain but he’s more like her faithful companion.’

Lady Charlotte groaned. What indiscretions! There was talk of her eldest

daughter’s having a post in the Princess’s household. Lady Charlotte was not sure that she wished for this.

Caroline, however, was unaware of the gossip. She was delighted to have

Lady Charlotte with her and she would arrange for a house in the town for the

children and their governess. As for Lady Charlotte, she would take up her old

duties.

Then came sad news. At the battle of Quatre Bras‚ Caroline’s brother, the

young Duke of Brunswick, had been killed.

Caroline shut herself up in her apartments and wept for her brother.

But very soon there was shouting in the streets and everyone was rejoicing.

Wellington and Blucher had met Napoleon at Waterloo and annihilated the

French Army.

————————

Peace at last— and this time a lasting peace because Napoleon could never

rise again.

‘Now,’ said Caroline, ‘I can continue my journeyings in peace.’

There was startling news however from England. Samuel Whitbread who had

been her fervent supporter had died by his own hand.

Caroline could not believe this to be true. He had always been such a vital

man, a firm upholder of righteous causes. He had believed, it was said, that his

public career was at an end, and this had depressed him. It seemed so pointless; he was rich, having retained a big share in the brewery; he was not old, being in the neighbourhood of fifty, and yet he had shut himself into his bedroom in his town

house at thirty-five Dover Street and cut his throat.

Remembering the violent death of Spencer Perceval, Caroline said: ‘I seem to

bring had luck to those who help me.’

Why was it that people did not wish to stay with her? Captain Hesse, her

equerry, who was said to be the illegitimate son of the Duke of York, had come to her when the news of Napoleon’s escape was known and told her that he must

rejoin his regiment. She fancied this was a good excuse. Gell and Craven had

come to her as she was about to embark at Naples and told her that they must

leave her unless she returned to England.

She had told them that she had no intention of doing that and laughed at them

because they believed that rather than lose them she would do so.

But when she was alone she was depressed. Was no one faithful? Few, it

seemed; but one who was, was her dear Bartolomeo Pergami. What would she

have done without him?

The travels continued to Mantua and Ferraar, Bologna, Venice and Rome.

At each of the places Caroline passed through she behaved with a growing

abandon. She dressed extravagantly and was heavily rouged and daubed with

white lead; she rode through the streets in her fantastic feathered hats, the

abundant curls of her many wigs flowing freely, she was a startling figure. But

her conduct was more strange than her appearance. She was over-familiar; she

walked the streets ostensibly incognito— picked up children, squatted on the

pavements beside them, embraced them and gave them money; she cooked a meal

now and then which she sat down and enjoyed with Pergami; she allowed him to

come in and out of her bedroom at will, received him when she was in her bath,

and took a great pleasure in shocking those about her in every way she could

conceive.

Stories of her incredible behaviour were carried to England and the Prince

Regent listened to them avidly.

If only it were possible to rid himself of this woman how happy he would be!

Every tale he heard of her was a humiliation.

That most glorious of victories, Waterloo, was being celebrated. They realized

at home what this meant. The name of Waterloo would resound through the world

for centuries to come; and it was his great general who had achieved it. It was

Wellington’s victory. The church bells rang out; the guns boomed forth. It was a

victory to set beside Trafalgar and Agincourt.

It was a glorious time; and yet he, the Regent, was pestered by his family.

There was intransigent Charlotte who caused him much anxiety by her refusal to

obey him; but he could manage Charlotte; and at least she was pleasant to look at.

But Caroline! That loathsome creature to whom they had married him. The

First Gentleman of Europe, the most elegant and fastidious of gentlemen to be

married to that vulgar creature!

But for her, he could marry again and get a son. Ha, that would put

Charlotte’s nose out of joint. The arrogant young woman never forgot that Crown

she saw in her future. She was already seeing herself mounting the throne, which

was unfeeling of her, for how could she until he was dead?

If he could rid himself of Caroline—

Good God, should it be so difficult?
The Delicate Investigation had been a near thing. He might have managed it then. But now she was roaming about the

Continent, causing scandal wherever she went.

There was fresh news brought to him by his spies. One of the members of her

suite had left her because Caroline was planning a trip to the East and this young man, William Burrell, who was a son of Lord Gwydir, had arrived at Brussels.

There he met the Duke of Cumberland; but the important factor was that Burrell’s

servants had chattered to those of the Duke who had reported to their master.

Cumberland had lost no time when he returned in telling the Prince Regent

that he wanted to know.

Something must be done. The manner in which Caroline was behaving with

this Italian chamberlain of hers and the way she conducted herself generally must surely supply the evidence he needed. His spies were not working hard enough.

There was Quentin, for instance, who had allowed himself to be discovered and

this incident had naturally warned the guilty ones. Many people had left her suite; men like Hesse, Gell and Craven. Why? Were they afraid of being implicated?

The Prince sent for Lord Castlereagh and told him that he expected action.

‘What do you propose?’ he demanded. ‘These people who are supposed to be

working for us give us nothing but gossip. I want proof.’

‘I think, sir,’ said Castlereagh, ‘that we should appoint a man of some

standing to work for us. What we need is absolute proof and someone who

actually witnesses misconduct. For that we will need someone who is skilled and

able to win the Princess’s confidence. I suggest that I get in touch secretly with our ambassador in Vienna. If Your Highness will give me leave to write to him—

strictly confidentially, I think he will know the man whom we should appoint to

act as our agent.’

‘Let it be done with all speed,’ said the Prince Regent.

————————

Lord Castlereagh wrote to Lord Stewart and headed his letter
Most private

and secret.

He must appoint a man whom he thought fit to do this service and this agent

must be able to give eye-witness proof. English witnesses would be preferred but

it would be better not to involve anyone in the Regent’s service. The aim was to

enable the Prince Regent to be free of a woman who had no decency and was

quite unworthy to be his wife. It would be understood that as the object of the

evidence would be to justify a divorce, the proofs must be direct and unequivocal.

When Lord Stewart received this communication he studied it very carefully

and cast about in his mind for the person who would be able to perform this very

delicate duty.

At last he decided on the Baron Frederick d’Ompteda, the Hanoverian envoy

to the Pontifical Court.

He wrote to him commanding his presence immediately and when the Baron

arrived, acquainted him with what was expected of him.

‘You understand,’ said Lord Stewart. ‘We must have evidence and witnesses

of the misconduct of the Princess of Wales. It should not be difficult to obtain in view of the reports we are receiving.’

The Baron replied that he would do his best.

‘It is what the Prince Regent expects,’ replied Lord Stewart.

The Baron took his leave and set out for Rome.

————————

Caroline had arrived at Como where she decided to settle for, a short time

while she and Pergami put their heads together, as she said, and planned a tour of the East.

An Italian countess had a charming house to sell on the lake and when

Caroline saw it she decided to buy it and make alterations so that it would be a

mansion worthy of a princess. Together she and Pergami planned the alterations;

and in a short time it had been greatly enlarged, avenues had been planted and as Caroline said, it was indeed her. house. She named it the Villa d’Este.

‘For,’ she explained to Pergami, ‘I am descended from that noble family.’

While she was in Rome waiting for the Villa d’Este to be made ready for her

occupation, she received a letter from the Hanoverian minister, Count von

Münster.

‘He is the son of my old governess,’ she told the maids who were attending to

her as she read the letter. One of these was Annette, a rather flighty girl who spent a great time flirting with the male members of the household, and the other was

Louise Demont who was of a more serious turn of mind. ‘Ah, what a life I used to

lead the old lady! I’m afraid I was a very naughty girl. The tricks I got up to!

They would surprise you if I were to tell you.’

Louise said demurely that nothing Her Highness told them would surprise

them, which amused the Princess.

‘You don’t know, you cannot imagine,’ she declared. ‘Ah, poor Countess von

Münster! And this is her son writing to me. He’s a very important person now in

Hanover and he is telling me that Baron Frederick d’Ompteda will be calling on

me and he hopes I will receive him. The Baron is the Hanoverian envoy to the

Pontifical Court. Well, we must make him welcome, mustn’t we? You have been

to tell the Baron Pergami that I wish to see him?’

‘Madam, shall we wait until you are dressed?’

‘No, no, no! Send him now. He can assist at the dressing, it will not be the

first time.’

When the Baron Pergami arrived, the two girls left him alone with the

Princess.

‘What a strange way to behave,’ said Louise primly. ‘I am not surprised that

there are all these rumours.’

‘Are there rumours?’ asked Annette.

‘Have you not heard of them?’

Annette shook her head. She had little time to listen to rumours; her great

concern was with a young German who had recently joined the household.

Maurice Credé was very attractive and she was sure he had noticed her.

————————

‘My dear Baron,’ cried the Princess, ‘how good of you to call! My good

friend the Count von Münster told me that you would be coming. I trust that you

will be frequently with us. We are delighted to have you.’

The Baron bowed and told her she was very gracious and she would find that

he would take advantage of her goodness.

‘Anyone recommended by the Count von Münster will be well received here.

Pray sit down and tell me about yourself. I doubt there is any need for me to tell you about myself. You will have heard stories about me and my goings on.’

She broke into loud laughter.

It shouldn’t be difficult, thought d’Ompteda. One only had to look at her and

one could well believe all the stories one heard of her. The loose revealing gowns, the painted face, the over-heavy wig, her very manner of sitting so slovenly,

somehow suggested immorality. It would be an easy case to prove, this one.

He talked of Hanover and his work in Rome and while he talked, Pergami

came in.

‘This is Baron d’Ompteda, my dear,’ said Caroline. ‘Dear Baron you must

meet Baron Bartolomeo Pergami, who is my guide, comforter and very good

friend. ‘Tis so, is it not, my dear? He looks after my affairs so beautifully. Come sit down and talk with us. Baron d’Ompteda has had such an interesting life!’

The greatest success,
thought the Baron.
Why she makes no secret of the
relationship. She even asks him to sit down. She must be besotted— or crazy.

And Pergami? Yes, he behaved with a proprietorial air. There was no doubt

about it. He was her lover. It was going to be easiest possible case to prove.

She sent for refreshment.

Good God,
thought d’Ompteda,
is
he going to be allowed to drink with us?

‘Theodore, bring us wine,’ she commanded.

The man bowed.

‘A very good servant,’ she said before he was out of earshot. ‘Theodore

Majocchi. Such a nice fellow! So willing and so grateful to be taken into my

household. Many of my English servants have left me, Baron, but I have been

well served by Italians and I have found the country so hospitable. Though I

intend to leave it for a while. My dear Baron Pergami is working a detailed plan

for us to travel in the East.’