The Third George: (Georgian Series) (25 page)

‘And Your Majesty, it could not be permitted that one of Lord Bute’s friends take over his office of Keeper of the Privy Purse.’

‘Good God,’ cried George, humiliated into a display of anger, ‘Mr Grenville, am I to be suspected after all I have done?’

Grenville murmured: ‘It is imperative to Your Majesty’s Ministers and to the City of London that Lord Bute is not suspected of being Your Majesty’s chief adviser.’

The King turned away and when his minister had left, sent for Lord Bute to tell him that he must leave.

He was surprised at Bute’s meek acceptance of dismissal, though he himself would have given a good deal to escape from his bickering ministers. But he was not particularly sorry either. When he thought of the old days when he had doted on this man, when he had been terrified of mounting the throne without him beside him, he was astonished that everything could have changed in a comparatively short time.

‘It will only be a temporary absence,’ he murmured. ‘But I had no alternative but to agree to it.’

Bute nodded.

‘You will tell my mother?’

Bute answered that he would.

After he had gone the King sat thinking of them – Bute and his mother. In truth their relationship, of which the people in the streets had made him crudely familiar, shocked him. This was at the root of his changed feelings towards this man who had once been his dearest friend.

And yet, he thought, I went through a form of marriage with Hannah. And if that were a true marriage and if Hannah still lives then I am not married to Charlotte. We are living in sin as my mother is with Lord Bute.

No, it’s not true, he told himself. I must shut that thought right out of my mind. For what with Mr Pitt and Mr Grenville, Mr Wilkes and the rest I should go mad if I dwelt on that too.

He would not think of it. Bute would go away for a while and his mother must needs put up with his absence. After all, hadn’t he been forced to give up Sarah completely? So why should his mother complain at giving up Bute for a few weeks?

They must forget their own troubles and set about arranging Augusta’s marriage.

*

The Princess Augusta was very excited about her coming wedding. She had been presented with a picture of her future husband and was not displeased with it. Caroline Matilda was almost as excited.

‘One wedding begets another,’ she said. ‘It will be my turn next. Oh, Augusta, just imagine! You’ll go right away from us all to a strange land. I wonder what Brunswick’s like. I suppose it’s not far from Mecklenburg. How odd! You go there and Charlotte comes here.’

‘Nothing odd about it,’ said Augusta sharply. ‘It’s just the nature of things.’

‘Oh, the nature of things!’ cried Caroline Matilda, dancing round the apartment, her yellow hair streaming out behind her. ‘And the nature of things is that I’ll be the next one. When do you think there’ll be a wedding for me, Augusta?’

‘Not for years. You’re only a child.’

‘Thirteen. Charlotte was only seventeen. And as I told you, weddings come together. I’m longing to see Charles. I wonder if he’s like his picture. Are you shivering with apprehension?’

‘When you reach my age, child, you don’t shiver with apprehension, you only sigh with relief.’

Caroline Matilda giggled. ‘I hope he’s a little more handsome than poor Charlotte.’

‘Hush! You are speaking of the Queen.’

‘Perhaps all Germans are
plain
.’

‘What about us? Are we not mostly German?’

‘That was Grandfather. We’re all English.’ Caroline Matilda surveyed her face thoughtfully in a mirror. ‘In fact,’ she went on complacently, ‘I think
I
am rather good looking.’

Augusta laughed derisively and Caroline Matilda continued to giggle. Since Augusta knew she was to have a husband she had become much pleasanter to her young sister.

And in January Prince Charles Frederick of Brunswick arrived in England.

*

George took an immediate dislike to his prospective brother-in-law, and so did the Prince to him. Charles Frederick was twenty-nine and high spirited; on the way over he had been talking with the utmost indiscretion about English politics; he had stated that the King was inexperienced and had been led by the nose by Lord Bute, before that gentleman had been sent packing, while refusing the services of one of the greatest politicians alive, by whom he meant William Pitt. When this conversation was reported to the King and his ministers it did not endear them to the visitor.

As for the Princess Dowager, she declared that she had never liked his family. She had accepted him as her daughter’s husband, she told Lord Bute, when he paid his secret visits to her – for it was not to be expected that they would give those up – but the old Duchess of Wolfenbüttel was the most disagreeable woman she had ever known, and everyone was aware that she had refused her daughter for George, although his grandfather had tried to foist the girl on to him.

If it was not for the fact that Augusta must have a husband she would never have agreed to the match. But Augusta really was a trying creature; her tongue was so sharp and she was interesting herself too deeply in politics. She was a supporter of Pitt’s and with her brother, the Duke of York, was actually taking sides with the Opposition and those who were against
the policy of the Court. Augusta was a real meddler. Well, let her meddle in Brunswick.

The Princess Dowager went to see her son to talk of the coming ceremonials.

‘I don’t see why we should go to any length to impress Brunswick,’ said Augusta.

‘Nor I,’ agreed George.

‘The fellow is an oaf. He would not know the difference between a Court ceremony or a country-house ball. So why go to the expense?’

‘It would be a great expense. And don’t forget we have already had to pay the fellow handsomely to take her.’

‘Eighty thousand pounds, an annuity of £5000 a year on Ireland and £3000 a year on Hanover. It’s being an expensive matter getting rid of Augusta. Now for heaven’s sake, do not let us add to the expense.’

‘We won’t; I am ordering that the servants should not have new livery.’

George was looking better than he had for some months; he had always enjoyed working out details of household expenditure.

‘And,’ he went on, ‘I have decided that he shall be lodged at Somerset House and that there will be no need to station guards there.’

Augusta nodded, approving, but thinking at the same time: ‘In the old days he would have consulted one of us first.’

‘Doubtless he will be unaware,’ said the Princess Dowager, ‘that he is not being treated with the respect one would naturally give to a gentleman in his position. I believe manners are very crude in Brunswick.’

This may have been so, but the Prince was immediately aware of the coldness of his reception and was furious. He was by no means meek and had no intention of hiding his displeasure. He had distinguished himself on the battlefield with the armies of Frederick the Great and since he had come to England to take an ageing princess off their hands he had expected better treatment.

The only one at the English Court who was pleased with him seemed to be his bride and she would have been pleased with any bridegroom. At least he was not deformed and she pretended not
to notice his crudities. The ladies and gentlemen of the Court, taking their cue from the King, all showed their dislike of the bridegroom to such an extent that it would seem they were trying to influence the Princess Augusta against him.

But the Prince of Brunswick discovered a way of having his revenge. When he went out into the streets and the people crowded about his carriage to see him pass, he was extremely affable and showed his interest in them; he waved and smiled and very soon he had them cheering him. There was an occasion when he saw a soldier in the crowd who had served with him in the field; he acknowledged the man and they talked for a while with the crowd pressing close. That cemented his popularity. Here he was a visitor to England, a young bridegroom, and he was slighted and insulted. He was pushed into Somerset House without a guard and it was clear by the way he was unescorted that he was being humiliated.

The people were up in arms. This was a further cause for complaint against the King and his ministers. How dared they treat a visitor so! It was unpatriotic, unEnglish! Well, the people of London were going to teach their king manners.

So wherever he went it was: ‘Long live the Prince.’ The women threw kisses; the men cheered themselves hoarse; and the Prince was slyly delighted. There was only one thing which would have discountenanced the King and his ministers more, and he proceeded to do it. He made overtures to the leading members of the Opposition – for having studied English politics he was aware of the effect this would have – and was invited to dine with the Dukes of Cumberland and Newcastle; and not content with that he visited William Pitt at his Hayes residence.

‘He’s a scoundrel,’ spluttered the King; but he had to admit that the Prince had outwitted him and his ministers and that this was one more failure.

Four days after the Prince’s arrival he and the Princess Augusta were married.

*

The Princess Augusta found she had married a masterful man. He was not much concerned with the niceties of life and her introduction to his somewhat coarse mode of living was a little startling. Temporarily she was robbed of that arrogance which had always prevented her from making friends and there was
something pathetic about this once self-sufficient woman now faced with a new life in a land of which she knew nothing, with a husband almost a stranger to her; all she did understand was that it would be very different from life as she had lived it hitherto.

Caroline Matilda watched in awed silence. Marriage, she decided, was not the gay game she had once believed. Suppose when her turn came they gave her a husband like this prince. She shivered. She had pictured all husbands mild and gentle like her brother George.

The bridegroom kept up his feud with the Court and two days after the wedding when he and his bride, with the King and Queen, paid a visit to the opera he had an opportunity of scoring over the King.

Charlotte, taking her cue from George, was very cool to the Prince, and Augusta was displeased with her. Who, Augusta asked herself, does she think she is, to put on such haughty airs! The sister of a little Duke of Mecklenburg and she dares to patronize Brunswick!

Charlotte was thinking how happy she was to have a husband like George. She shuddered, contemplating how different this man must be. George was so gentle, so tender, such a good father and husband. Poor Augusta! she pitied her.

Augusta was in no mood to be pitied by silly little Charlotte who was kept almost like a prisoner at Richmond and Buckingham House and was never allowed to voice an opinion. And who was she to be sorry for her, Augusta, when everyone knew George had had to be persuaded to marry her and had only done so out of a sense of duty?

As they entered the box, Augusta whispered: ‘The Opera House will be crowded tonight. Everyone will be here. I wonder if Sarah Bunbury will be? If she is, everyone will be looking at her …
everyone.
She is said to be the most beautiful woman at Court.’

‘I doubt they will look at her even so,’ said Charlotte. ‘Everyone will want to be looking at the bride and groom.’

‘Poor Sarah! She will have to be content to have George ogling her.’

Charlotte flushed slightly but made no response. Did he, she wondered, still think of Sarah?

Charlotte had moved to the front of the box with the King
and they stood together looking down on the audience. There was silence in the Opera House. It was most embarrassing. George sat down and Charlotte did the same, and then the Princess Augusta and her husband came forward. Immediately the audience rose. A cry went up: ‘Long live the Prince and Princess.’

There were loud hurrahs and ‘God bless the married pair’. And Augusta and her husband stood there bowing and accepting the cheers.

Then to Charlotte’s horror she noticed that the bridegroom had his back to the King.

This was an insult, an intentional insult.

She glanced at George who, she saw at once, was aware of what was happening. His blue eyes bulged a little more than usual but he gave no sign.

There was nothing he could do. The people were acclaiming the newly married pair so vociferously to make a contrast to the silence with which they had greeted their king and queen.

*

George had made up his mind.

He told Grenville: ‘They must leave immediately. I will not have them here.’

‘Sire, the visit was to last a few more weeks.’

‘I do not care for that, Mr Grenville, sir. I say they shall leave the day after tomorrow and that is my final word on the subject.’

George’s mouth was set in stubborn lines. He was determined on this matter to have his way.

The Princess Dowager applauded his firmness. ‘I shall be glad to see the back of that man,’ she said, ‘and since Augusta married him she appears to be more impossible than ever.’

So to the disgust of the Prince of Brunswick he was obliged to take his bride to her new home, for there was no longer to be hospitality for them in England.

The Princess Augusta protested that the weather was too inclement for them to set sail for a while, but the King was adamant; weather or not they should go at once. He would not be insulted in his own country.

The Princess stormed and wept for the prospect of leaving home became more alarming the nearer it grew. Her husband made no attempts to make her position easier. He had told her
that she would have to accept his mistress Madame de Hertzfeldt whom he had no intention of giving up.

‘All that will be changed now,’ she told him; but he merely laughed at her.

‘Listen,’ he said. ‘You bear a child and that’s all you need worry about.’

‘I shall refuse to receive your mistress,’ she told him.

He roared with laughter. ‘It’s not you she wants to receive. It’s me. And we don’t receive in Brunswick. You’ll find it a bit different there, my girl, from your fancy English Court.’