The Regent's Daughter: (Georgian Series) (39 page)

She went on writing in the same strain, stressing her wrongs and the theme of that letter was: Consider a mother’s feelings and do not separate her from her child.

When she had finished it she sealed it and despatched it to Lords Eldon and Liverpool with the request that they should lay it before the Prince of Wales.

She laughed at the thought of his receiving it. He would pick it up as though it were infected with the smallpox, that expression of disgust on his face because he would be thinking of her.

In her bedroom she took a small figure from a drawer. She set it up against a looking-glass and laughed at it. The likeness was
good – the portly figure, the well-shaped calves, the pert nose and the pouting lips. It was the Regent to the life – and exquisitely dressed of course with a necktie worn high up to his chin; the coat was of the finest velvet; even the breeches were of buckskin.

Caroline picked up a pin and thrust it into the figure where his heart would have been. The heads of several pins were visible in this spot.

‘At least,’ she said aloud, ‘it relieves the feelings. Take that, my fat prince. And that … and that …’

She laughed so much that Willie came in to see what was the matter.

‘Oh,’ he said, ‘you’re playing the pin game again, Mamma.’

She picked him up and gave him loud kisses all over his face to which he submitted resignedly. He was accustomed to these outbursts of affection.

She put him down at length and threw the figure face down into a drawer.

‘Now,’ she said, ‘we shall see what His Highness has to reply to that!’

When the Prince saw the sealed letter he looked at it in much the same manner as Caroline had imagined.

‘I have sworn that I will never receive any document from the Princess of Wales,’ he reminded Eldon and Liverpool.

‘We do not forget this, Sir,’ said Liverpool, ‘but we were in duty bound to inform Your Highness of its arrival. We believe it to be Your Highness’s wish that this … missive … should be returned whence it came … unopened.’

‘This is my wish,’ replied the Prince.

‘Then,’ said Liverpool, ‘so be it, and I will inform the Princess that any communication she wishes to make must be made through the Chancellor and myself.’

The Regent nodded. ‘Let that be done, but
I
wish to have nothing to do with the woman.’

The ministers nodded.

It was deplorable, Lord Eldon remarked to Lord Liverpool later, that statemen like themselves should have to occupy themselves with such matters.

The Princess Caroline laughed aloud when she heard.

‘So he won’t read my letters, eh? He can’t bear to talk to me.
I’m not dainty enough. Come here, Willie … do you find me dainty … or dirty?’

Willie dutifully came and was seized in a suffocating hug.

‘You love your old Mamma, eh, Willie?’

Willie declared that he did.

‘I’ve had nothing but insults from that man since I came here. Prince Regent! Prancing Tailor’s Dummy more like! And my own blessed Charlotte snatched from her mother’s arms. How would you like that?’

Willie said that what he would like was some of the special sweetmeats which were kept in her apartments.

She hugged him afresh and said he should have his sweetmeats, and she would have her darling daughter.

Brougham called.

‘My dear, faithful Brougham!’ she cried distractedly. ‘What should I do without you? What do you think that dreadful man has done now? He refuses to read my letter … our letter … and he has sent it back by way of Liverpool and Eldon. He’ll communicate only through them if you please. His Highness is afraid
I
might contaminate him.’

Brougham listened cautiously.

‘We will send the letter back to the noble lords,’ he said, ‘with instructions that if the Prince will not open the letter, they must do so and read its contents to him.’

‘Well, my lord?’ demanded Caroline.

Lord Eldon, the arrogant creature who always seemed to look scornfully down his nose as though to say ‘My goodness, what outsider have we brought into the royal family!’ said coldly: ‘Your Highness’s communication has been read to His Highness the Prince Regent.’

‘At last! And what did his noble Highness say?’

Eldon smiled complacently. ‘Nothing whatever, Your Highness.’

When the insolent man had gone Caroline gave vent to her fury, stamping up and down the room, abusing the royal family, her cheeks under their rouge red with emotion, her wig awry so that her own straggling grey hairs showed under the wayward black curls.

Her fury did not last long and soon she was laughing. ‘They will be sorry,’ she told Willie.

She was soon able to gloat over her revenge when on the advice of her friends, led by Brougham, the letter was sent to the
Morning Chronicle
and on February 10th was published prominently on the front page.

The whole country was talking about the scandalous state of affairs which existed between the Regent and his wife. What effect was it having on their daughter? the readers of the
Morning Chronicle
asked each other. The ponr Princess was like a shuttlecock, batted back and forth between a pair of irresponsible players. But the letter appealed to public sentiment. It was not right, was the verdict, to keep a child from its mother.

The Regent was more unpopular than ever and was greeted with boos and catcalls in the streets. His carriage, standing outside the Hertfords’ was once again pelted with refuse and spattered with mud. His standing had never been so low.

Then Brougham brought up the matter in Parliament and the letter was freely discussed.

It was, declared the Regent to the Queen, one of the most humiliating occasions of his life. ‘I wish to God I had never seen that woman. I would give anything to undo this marriage.’

The Queen, her hands folded in her lap, could not resist a self-satisfied smile which reminded him that if they had listened to her that woman would not be here now. She had wanted her son to take her niece instead of his father’s. How different if he had married Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz instead of Caroline of Brunswick.

If she did not say it now she had said it a hundred times in the past, but who knew, wondered the Regent, what marriage with Louise would have been like? It could not have been worse, he supposed, for Caroline surely must be the most unsuitable wife in the world. He despised and detested her and his greatest desire was to be rid of her. The only benefit she had brought him was to give him his heir – Charlotte – and Charlotte with her waywardness was a mixed blessing. His poor mad father had had a quiverful – too full – so that his progeny were a great expense to the nation; and he, the First Gentleman of Europe, had succeeded in producing only one – and that a girl.

This brought him back to the great problem of his life – if only he could rid himself of Caroline. If only he could re-marry while he was still young enough to get a male heir! A new wife
… a male heir … and neither Caroline nor Charlotte would be of importance in his life.

The Queen was saying: ‘It is disgraceful to publish such a letter. It means of course that she has supporters, otherwise she would not dare and if they are going to discuss the matter fully in Parliament … oh dear.’ She reached for her snuffbox, her greatest solace in trouble.

The Regent suddenly made up his mind. ‘I shall insist on another examination of those documents concerned in the Delicate Investigation. I am sure there is something there which will give me the information I need. If I can only find proof that William Austin is her son I’d have my evidence.’

‘And meanwhile,’ put in the Queen, ‘she will be poisoning Charlotte’s mind against us all. Charlotte has to be considered now. Next year she will be eighteen and that will be her coming of age. I do believe that prompt action should be taken.’

‘Charlotte shall not see her mother while the investigation is in progress. I will go to her myself and tell her that they are not to meet for a while.’

‘Charlotte,’ said the Queen decisively, ‘needs a very firm hand.’

Encounter of two carriages

THEY FACED EACH
other in Charlotte’s drawing room in Warwick House – he seated in a chair, elegant as ever, she standing before him, awkward as always in his presence. He appeared to avoid looking at her as he spoke.

‘You will have heard of the distressing turn of affairs,’ he was saying. ‘Your mother has seen fit to publish a letter setting out her imagined wrongs. It cannot be ignored and in selfdefence there must be an investigation of her conduct.’

‘But … there … was …’

‘A further investigation,’ went on the Prince. ‘We cannot go on in this unsatisfactory state and while the investigation is progressing it is not suitable for you and your mother to meet.’

Rebellion rose in Charlotte. Why was it that when one parent attacked another she always wanted to defend the attacked? Why was it she had to show her affection for her
mother and her antagonism for her father when it was his approval that she craved? She could not understand herself. She only knew that when she was in his company she longed for some show of affection from him and when she could not get it she wanted to oppose him and stir up a hatred.

‘But I love my mother. Why should I be kept from her?’

She could not have said anything to anger him more.

‘You wish to see her? How can you wish to see such a vulgar person?’

‘She is my mother.’

‘Alas!’

‘And she is your wife. You must have had some regard for her since I was born to you.’

He shuddered. Charlotte could be really vulgar.

‘I shall speak to the Duchess and Miss Knight,’ he said. ‘I cannot imagine why you are not taught restraint. Such manners I would not have believed possible in a daughter of mine.’

‘Not with such a mother?’

She was on the point of tears. Why was it that she was always in this state of emotion when they were together? Why could she not be elegantly calm – the sort of daughter he wanted? She had come near to being that under Mrs Fitzherbert’s guidance. But Mrs Fitzherbert had left him now and was living, so she had heard, peacefully, her only concern for her darling Minney’s future. Mrs Fitzherbert had escaped from the storm which beset those in royal circles. Charlotte felt a twinge of envy for Minney.

‘It is clear to me that you have inherited too many of her characteristics and that makes me feel how justified I am in imposing this ban.’

‘Ban? What ban?’

‘Pray restrain yourself. In the interests of all concerned it has been decided that you and your mother shall not meet for a while.’

‘Why, it’s that old Investigation all over again.’ The urge to shock was irresistible. He thought her crude. Well, she would be crude; and because he hated her to show affection for her mother she would show it.

‘It is a further investigation and we do not know what shocking details will be brought to light. I do hope that you understand what is expected of you. Obedience. This shall be
impressed on your governess …’ (she winced at the word) ‘… and those who serve you. You will not suffer,’ he added with an attempt at kindness. ‘You shall have the balls and entertainments which have been planned for you. And I shall see you frequently, and all that is expected of you is that you should not see your mother during the investigation and if any shocking details should be revealed …’

‘For which you ardently hope,’ she could not resist putting in, but he pretended not to have heard her.

‘… you will cease to see her altogether.’

‘I shall soon be eighteen,’ she reminded him, ‘and then I cannot be forbidden to see my own mother.’

‘I must remind you that your eighteenth birthday is still a year away and even when you reach it it will still be necessary for you to obey your father.’

He could see no reason for prolonging the interview. He embraced her, repeated that she should be seen in public more frequently – and in his company. He would visit her and she should visit him.

He left her disturbed but secretly pleased at the prospect of more meetings.

But of course, she told herself scornfully, it is only what his ministers advise him is wise. If he wants to regain a little of the popularity he has lost he must be seen with his daughter. It must appear that, in the Great Quarrel, she is on his side.

And I won’t do it, she told herself fiercely. I won’t let him use me. He doesn’t want to see
me
at all. It’s only to placate his ministers and the people that he does so.

If only he had cared for her …

But what was the use of dreaming. She must face facts.

She remained in bed. She was not going out. If she could not see her mother she would see no one.

A whole week went by and Cornelia at length spoke to her. ‘There is a lot of gossip,’ she said, ‘and comments in the papers.’

Oh, those papers! thought Charlotte. Now that Mrs Udney had gone and she was not visiting her mother she never saw them.

‘There are really shocking hints,’ went on Cornelia.

‘About my mother and the Prince, I suppose.’

‘About
you
!’ retorted Cornelia.

‘What about me?’

‘You have been rather indiscreet with certain gentlemen.’

Charlotte looked startled.

‘Captain Hesse, Captain Fitzclarence and the Duke of Devonshire.’

Charlotte started to laugh.

‘It’s no laughing matter,’ said Cornelia severely. ‘Such rumours can be dangerous.’

‘Are they saying I am like my mother? Are they preparing a Delicate Investigation?’

‘What they are saying is too indelicate for me to repeat. I suggest we go out this very day for a drive in the Park that you may show yourself. That will be the best way to prove these rumours false.’

That morning the Princess Charlotte was seen with Miss Knight, riding in the Park.

Charlotte sat back in her carriage. It was pleasant when she was recognized and the people cheered her. They were satisfied that the rumours about her were false. What had they imagined? wondered Charlotte. That she was about to bear an illegitimate child? She giggled at the thought. Well, she had been a little indiscreet. She thought of the letters she had written to Hesse and which her mother had passed on to him. It had been exciting at the time but now that she was growing up she was beginning to wonder.