It would be well, the Queen hinted to the King, if the Prince was seen more in public with his family. Walpole had pointed out to her that rumours were going round that the Prince was not being fairly treated and if they were not careful there would be a split in the family as there had been in the previous reign. She would well remember how disastrous that had been.

A visit to the theatre was arranged and the entire family with the exception of Mary and Louisa, went to see Henry VIII.

It was a glittering occasion with the King and Queen, their three daughters and two sons; and the theatre was crowded, not so much for the sake of the play, but because so many wanted to see them.

George had Frederick on his right hand, in between himself and the Queen—much to the chagrin of William who had been accustomed to take that place; and as the party came into the royal box everyone in the theatre rose to cheer them.

But the name which they shouted louder than the rest and more repeatedly was that of the Prince.

And there was Frederick bowing, smiling, acknowledging the greeting, taking it all as a tribute to himself—which it was.

The Queen was uneasily watching the King, whose jaw grew more sullen with every passing cheer.


* * *

The question of Frederick’s allowance came up for discussion. When he was Prince of Wales George had had an income of £100,000 a year and had found it inadequate, but it was absurd he said, that Frederick should have the same. When he, George, had been Prince of Wales he had had a family. £34,000 was ample for Frederick. It was true that that extra hundred thousand had been added to the Civil List, but he could use what was left over after paying Frederick.

‘I have much to do vith my money,’ declared the King. ‘It shall not be vasted by frivolous puppies.’

The Prince should have his own household officers, but no establishment of his own. He could share his sisters’ table.

‘He is von young man,’ said the King, ‘and new to England. Later ye shall see.’

The Prince was as yet too much engaged with discovering the pleasure of his new country to worry much about such details.

He enjoyed his popularity; he was seeking friends from those who flocked about him; he gave a ball on the island in St James’s Park and it was a great success. People found him charming and—unlike his father—good tempered. He arranged that a play should be acted in the gardens at Richmond. This was called Hob in the Gardens and was yet another triumph. Everyone congratulated the Prince on arranging it, and even his mother and sister Anne enjoyed it.

He revelled in such entertainments and seemed very pleased with his new life; but the enemies of the Queen and Walpole were watching him closely. They thought that in time he might be a willing tool in their hands; and since his family made no great effort to hide the fact that they resented his coming to England, the novelty would soon begin to fade. Then it might be possible to start another Hanoverian family feud—always so useful to the enemies of the German line.


* * *

The King had been thinking more and more of Hanover. It was nearly fifteen years since he had left and looking back over those years Herrenhausen, the Leine Schloss, and the Alte Palais seemed enchanting fairy palaces compared with St James’s, and even Richmond and Kensington. Not so grand of course, but grandeur was not everything.

He did not like governing through a parliament. In Hanover his father had been the supreme ruler. Here the elected members of their parliament could prevent a King’s having his own way.

Pooh and stuff! thought the King. That’s no way to rule. Better to be a real king of a small state than a titular one of a big country.

When it rained or the wind blew he would complain of the English climate.

‘Do you remember those varm sunny days in the gardens of Herrenhausen?’ he would ask the Queen.

She did remember. She also remembered delightful sunny days at Richmond, Hampton, and Kensington; and she doubted that there would be much sun in Hanover at this time of the year. But always being one step ahead of the King she guessed that he was thinking of paying a visit to Hanover.

This would not displease her, unless of course he wanted her to accompany him. That was hardly likely. Her duty would be to stay at home. Someone would have to govern in his absence. The Prince of Wales? It should be so traditionally, but how could a young man so recently come to England take over the task?

She was excited at the prospect of herself being appointed Regent. It would be comforting not to have to work on the King in order to force her—and Walpole’s—ideas upon him and let them simmer in his mind until he thought they were his own.

And surely she would be appointed Regent. The King would never consent to allowing the Prince of Wales to take on that important role.

She encouraged him in his love of Hanover; she would recall to him pleasant occasions. The days, for instance, when she had first come there; their marriage; how he had shown her the beauties of the place.

He would sit listening with the tears in his eyes.

When Walpole visited her in her closet the Queen whispered to him that the King was talking more and more fondly of Hanover.

Walpole smiled slyly. ‘I have often heard him say that England was his country, that he never wanted to leave England, that if any man wanted to find favour with him he must call him an Englishman.’

The Queen smiled almost fondly. ‘That was in the days ven his father was alive. He loved England because his father hated it. If his father had loved England he vould have hated it.’

Walpole nodded. ‘And now he is falling in love with Hanover. England displeases him. He has to keep in step with his Parliament. His son is becoming very popular with the people. I can see why he is falling out of love with England.’

‘I think he is planning a visit to Hanover.’

‘And why not? He should visit his Electorate now and again. He could appoint a Regency.’

‘A ... a Regency. And that would be ...’

‘Madam, there is only one Regent under whom I could serve.’

‘The Prince of Wales is too young, too inexperienced, too recently come to this country.’

‘I should certainly not serve under His Highness. I was referring to Your Majesty. The only possible Regent.’ ‘You think the King vould agree?’

‘The King must be made to agree, Madam.’

After that there was every incentive to persuade the King how enjoyable—and necessary a visit to Hanover would be.


* * *

The Parliament was not pleased; the people were not pleased. It was hoped that the new King was not going to follow the old one’s example of taking frequent trips to Hanover. It was for the King of England to forget his minor possessions and concentrate on English affairs.

‘The devil take England,’ said George to Caroline. The devil take Parliament. I to Hanover vill go.’

She agreed with him that he should go. Hanover needed him. It was long since he had been there and he would not want to forget that he was the Elector as well as King of England.

He let himself be persuaded.

‘And Frederick?’ he asked. ‘Vot of that boy? I vill not take him vith me.’

‘You may safely leave him here. You know you can trust me to keep an eye on him.’

‘They vill say he vill be Regent.’

‘Valpole vill not agree to that.’

The King smiled. In the last year he had become reconciled to that fat ox. He thought that the minister always agreed with him and never saw that between them Walpole and the Queen arranged that he should agree with them. Yet George was shrewd enough to see that the country was steadier than it had been for some time; and although he thought this was due to his wise rule, he admitted to himself that he could not have managed so successfully without a reasonable chief minister. So he, like the Queen, was growing fonder of Walpole.

‘There is von only who shall be the Regent,’ said the King. He took Caroline’s hand and kissed it. ‘Who vould I trust but my dear Caroline.’ His eyes filled with tears so he did not see the triumph in hers. ‘You have been von goot vife to me, Caroline. I shall never forget.’

‘I think I am the luckiest voman in the vorld,’ she answered.

Such conversations were a delight to him; he often indulged in them when they were alone, but in company he still snubbed her and ridiculed her, because he continued to smart under the implications in that unfortunate rhyme.

A respite, the Queen was thinking. She would not have to placate him, not have to be humiliated before people; she would be able to rest now and then when she was fatigued; she would not have to walk in the park with him when her legs were swollen. She would enjoy many a delightful tête-à-tête with Walpole. They would decide policy together and not have to spend so much time planning how they should deal with the King.

But she must not show her pleasure; she must be resigned to his departure while at the same time assuring him that he could trust her to do exactly as he would during his absence.

The weather was clement for May had come; and George set sail for Hanover.


* * *

In Kensington Palace Caroline held her first Council meeting.

The Commission of Regency was read and all present came to her for the honour of kissing her hand and swearing loyalty.

The first was the Prince of Wales.

His manner several noticed was a little sullen. Was he at last beginning to be a little resentful? Was he asking himself why he, being of age and being the Prince of Wales, was denied the office of Regency during his father’s absence?


* * *

There were three men who were aware of the effect the Queen’s Regency was having on the Prince of Wales. These were Viscount Bolingbroke, William Pulteney, and William Wyndham. They were the most formidable members of the Opposition and Walpole had long considered them his greatest menace.

They met soon after the King’s departure from England and Bolingbroke, the leader of the group, talked freely of the Prince of Wales.

‘He is beginning to be piqued,’ he said. ‘Soon he will be angry. Then will come our chance.’

‘Do you think,’ asked Wyndham, ‘that we might attempt to whip up his anger a little? After all he is Prince of Wales and it is natural for a Prince of Wales to be Regent in the absence of his father.’

‘Wait a while,’ said Pulteney. ‘It may be that the time is not yet ripe. He has been here such a short while and he may believe that just now he is not in a position to be the Regent.’

Bolingbroke put in: ‘Yes, I think perhaps we should wait a while.’

His companions were a little startled, for Bolingbroke was by nature an impulsive man.

‘In a short time,’ continued Bolingbroke, ‘he will become very exasperated. Then he will be of more use to us. It is worth while to wait for a time ... But we will continue to keep a close watch.’

The others agreed and during the months that followed they watched everything that happened to the Prince of Wales; they were waiting their time when they would approach him, let him know how badly he was being treated, and so make him the figurehead of the Opposition —not only to Walpole’s Ministry but to the King and Queen.

Regency


THE Queen was busily reading letters from Hanover. The King and Townshend, who was with him, must be kept in touch with foreign affairs, although domestic matters were left to Caroline and her Council. Townshend was growing jealous of Walpole’s alliance with the Queen; the two men were brothers-in-law for Townshend had married Walpole’s sister Dorothy who had been devoted to her brother and to her husband; she it was who had been in fact responsible for the great accord between the two men and had brought them to a partnership which had been profitable to them both. But with the death of Dorothy, which had brought a great grief to both men, the alliance had weakened. Townshend, a man of almost puritanical views, began to look with distaste on the life Walpole led: drinking with his friends down at Houghton, his coarse conversation, and living openly with Maria Skerrett while his wife was alive. Moreover, they were thinking along different lines politically.