‘I forbid you to,’ said the Queen shortly.

‘Your Majesty, you cannot ...’

‘Bring me a bowl of cold water ... as cold as it can be.’

‘Cold water, Your Majesty.’

‘That is what I said, Lady Sundon.’

Charlotte dared not disobey when the Queen spoke in that voice, so she retired and in a short time returned with the required bowl of water.

The Queen signed for her to put it on to the floor and when she had done so plunged her bare feet into it.

Your Majesty! ‘ cried Lady Sundon in alarm.

But the Queen, wincing a little, managed to smile at her.

After some minutes’ immersion in the ice-cold water the Queen was able to put on her boots and by the time the King called she was ready for their walk.

He looked a little disgruntled to find her on time because he had hoped to scold her for being late; however, he would soon find something of which to complain.

Lady Sundon looked after them as they left the apartment. She was very worried about the Queen’s health.

Caroline tried to fight off the feelings of fatigue—and, more trying still, the nagging pain.

It has worsened, there was no doubt of that; but she would not admit it. Far stronger than any discomfort was the urgent desire that no one should know.

So she smiled and pretended she was well and meekly accepted the King’s perpetual scolding.

But there were times when it was almost impossible to go on doing this.

One of these occasions occurred one morning when the King had been particularly unkind. She had borne all his complaints patiently and only the slight flush in her cheeks and the rather nervous movement of her hands betrayed her emotion.

Lord Hervey was in attendance with the Princesses and, as the King was about to leave for his own apartments, she could not hold the words which rose to her lips.

‘As Sir Robert Walpole has always been a particular friend of mine,’ she said, ‘and as he seems to be the only person at Court who is in Your Majesty’s good graces, I think I shall ask him to speak to Your Majesty on my behalf in the hope that he can persuade you to soften your treatment of me.’

The King stopped and stared at her. The whites of his eyes seemed to turn red.

‘I do not know what you mean by these complaints,’ he said.

The Queen merely smiled, which made the King grow more angry; but even he was aware of the worsening of his temper since his return from Hanover; and his anger took the form of self-pity.

‘I am ill,’ he said, ‘and I believe nobody is in the same good humour sick as well. And if I were well, do you think I should not feel and show some uneasiness for having left a place where I was pleased and happy all day long and being come to one where I am incessantly crossed and plagued?’

The Queen was suddenly stung to a retort which astonished all those who heard it.

‘If Your Majesty was so happy at Hanover why did you not stay there? I see no reason that made your coming to England necessary. You might have continued there without coming to torment yourself and us, since your pleasure did not call you. I am sure your business did not, for we could have done that just as well without you, and you could have pleased yourself without us.’

The King was so astonished at this outburst that he could think of no retort.

He was trembling with rage as he stalked out of the room.

Later Lord Hervey discussed the incident with the Queen.

‘Your Majesty has endured so much that it was time you said what you did.’

‘I fear I have shocked him deeply.’

‘Madam, is it not time that he was shocked deeply?’

‘I think he is a little repentant. He is much quieter. And he has promised me some fine horses for my coach. He says they are some of the finest he has ever seen.’

‘He must have brought them from Hanover.’

‘He did.’

‘Where,’ went on Lord Hervey, ‘horses like everything else in that paradise are much finer than they are in this poor island.’

The Queen laughed. ‘I hope you do not let him hear you talk thus.’

‘He would think I was showing good sense ... for once. But, Madam, why has he given you these horses? Firstly to show you how much finer Hanover horses are than English ones; and secondly that you may have the expense of feeding them.’

‘You are wicked, mon enfant. But what I should do without you to make me laugh in these trying times I do not know.’

The Prince’s Bride

THE Prince of Wales was the only member of the Court and royal family who escaped the King’s bad temper. George’s attitude to his son had not changed since his return from Hanover because he had ignored him before he went away and continued to ignore him.

Frederick was delighted that he was to marry. He had always believed that marriage would give him the status he needed, and as he was nearly thirty it seemed ridiculous that a man in his position should be denied a wife.

He was becoming more and more truculent. In the old days he had been a mild young man, intent only on pleasure; but his relationship with Bolingbroke and Chesterfield had changed that.

Bolingbroke had now left England. He had given up the fight. He had hoped for a time to oust Walpole from his position and take his place, but it had become increasingly obvious that this was something he could not do. Lady Suffolk had been his friend and had kept him informed of certain happenings at Court, and now she had retired another avenue had been cut off. Bolingbroke had always spent a great deal of time with writers; he had enjoyed their company and patronized many of them by allowing them to earn a living writing for him. Now he believed that there was nothing in England for him, so he decided to retire to France where he owned Chanteloup, a beautiful château in Touraine. Here he said he would devote himself to literature, for his part on the stage of English politics was over and the man who remained on the stage after that deserved to be hissed off.

So to France he had gone and the Prince felt his loss, but he decided that he was able to manage his own affairs; and now that he was to have a wife he would do what Bolingbroke had told him he should : demand that he be paid an income commensurate not only with his title of Prince of Wales, but as a husband.

He was delighted at the prospect of a young bride. He greatly admired Lady Archibald Hamilton who was a very different mistress from Anne Vane; but he felt that if he had a pretty young girl as a wife and a handsome, clever woman as a mistress he would be very well served.

He had been very willing to promise Lady Archibald Hamilton a place in his wife’s entourage. She should be a lady of the bedchamber, he told her, and there be able to guide the Princess in all that she should know.

Lady Archibald expressed herself willing to take on this responsibility; and she was clearly delighted that the Prince should offer it.

Caroline, hearing of the arrangement, asked her son to come and see her, and when he came she immediately brought up the subject.

‘You cannot allow your mistress to be one of your wife’s bedchamber women. It will not be fair to the Princess Augusta.’

‘It will be ideal for her,’ retorted the Prince. ‘Lady Archibald Hamilton will be a ...’

‘A mother to her?’ asked the Queen slyly.

She will be a good friend to her.’

‘I doubt whether your wife will want the friendship of your mistress.’

She is to be one of the ladies-in-waiting. I have arranged it.’

‘I do not think the King will allow it.’ ‘This is my wife’s household.’