‘Master, of course I remember. It is not so long ago ... only a few years and I have always been interested in musical matters. You are referring to the sopranos Cuzzoni and Faustina.’

He nodded, his eyes under his very bushy black brows suddenly twinkling.

‘You told me yourself,’ she reminded him, ‘how they would not sing together and how you picked up Cuzzoni ... was it?’

‘Yes, Cuzzoni.’

‘You picked her up, carried her to the window and threatened to throw her out if she would not sing in your opera.’

‘And she did.’

‘Poor woman! ‘ laughed the Princess, ‘she had to save her life.’

‘And very beautifully she sang. She and Faustina together. The opera was Allessandro.... But we are wasting time; let me hear the harpsichord suite which I wrote for you.’

She played it with skill and he was pleased with her. ‘You did not tell me, why you were disturbed,’ she said afterwards.

‘Oh, it is nothing. Only that Italian Buononcini. People are comparing his music with mine and I tell you his is worthless ... worthless.’

‘Indeed it is worthless,’ said Anne.

‘But people are foolish. They who have no true musical appreciation begin to believe what they are constantly told. They go to the opera because it is fashionable ... not to hear music.’

‘I will ask the King and Queen to come with me to the Haymarket to hear your new opera. They will be delighted to. And I will see that the whole Court attend. Then you will not have any fear of not being able to pay the artistes.’

‘Your Highness is gracious.’

‘As a reward for my graciousness I demand to know what you are working on now.’

Handel sat down at the harpsichord and began to play; Anne listened. He was a genius; he was a master of music; and if she could command every one to listen to his operas she would do her best to persuade those who would do him most good to attend the Haymarket.


* * *

Soho Square was filled with the carriages and Sedans of the great. Anne Vane was holding a soirée.

Anne was in her element. She lived in luxury; whenever she went out in her carriage people pointed out the mistress of the Prince of Wales; people in high places sought her company. She had never been so important in her life.

She had her nursery where little FitzFrederick flourished with his nurses and attendants. The Prince of Wales visited the child frequently and delighted in attempting to discover a likeness to himself. Anne was constantly discovering resemblances and George Bubb Dodington and Mrs Behan bore her out that the child was the living image of the Prince.

The friendship between Frederick and Bubb was not quite so firm as it had been. The Prince continued to win large sums of money from his friend, but Frederick’s character had changed after contact with men such as Bolingbroke and Wyndham. He was less simple than he had been. Bubb, he believed, was a bit of a buffoon with his vulgar displays of lapis lazuli in his house and his brocades and velvets on his scarcely prepossessing figure.

Behind Bubb’s back Frederick was apt to laugh at the easy manner in which he had been allowed to take his winnings. The fool was really paying for the privilege of calling the Prince of Wales his friend.

Frederick was important. Bolingbroke said so. He was ill-treated by his father, but it would not always be so. Soon he would be found a wife; his debts would be paid and his father would be forced to give him an income commensurate with his position.

Frederick was beginning to realize his own importance and changing subtly from the young man who had come to England eager to make himself pleasant and popular.

Townshend had asked for a place in his household and got it. That, thought Frederick, would be a blow to his father and old Walpole. Occasional meetings with Bolingbroke, listening to commiseration on his ill-treatment, planning for better days—all this was changing Frederick.

Now his greatest pleasure was to bring discomfort and embarrassment to his parents.

So on these occasions when Anne entertained in Soho Square he made it clear that he liked as many members of Parliament as possible to call on his mistress. They were received with flattering pleasure and more and more were flocking to these gatherings.

The fact that Walpole was uneasy was a great delight to his enemies, who said that it was the same story all over again. Once the present King had held a second Court in Leicester House in defiance of his Father’s at St James’s.

Now here was Frederick Prince of Wales defying his father.

Anne, the Prince beside her, was telling Bubb what a pleasant gathering it was and how pleased she was to see so many of the King’s Court with them.

‘There might have been more,’ said Bubb, ‘but half the Court is at the Haymarket.’

‘Oh, Handel! ‘ cried Anne. ‘That is the Princess. She says he is the finest musician in the world. But some seem to like the Italian. I myself for one.’

‘Buononcini is a fine musician,’ said Bubb. ‘How does he compare with Handel? His Highness will tell us, doubtless.’

‘They are different,’ said Frederick. ‘Handel is so German and Buononcini typically Italian.’

‘I suppose I am very stupid with no taste,’ sighed Anne. ‘Am I, my love? I find Handel a bore.’

‘You could never be stupid,’ said Frederick, kissing her hand.

‘No,’ pouted Anne. ‘Look how I produced my adorable FitzFrederick.’

‘And,’ whispered some malicious voice, ‘deluded Fred into thinking he was his.’

But no one heard or even cared to listen, for so many of those present believed it would be profitable to support the Prince’s party, as no one had a chance of breaking into Walpole’s.

‘Buononcini is a fine musician,’ said the Prince.

Then everyone began comparing him with Handel and declaring that Handel was heavy, obsessed with religious subjects, and above all dull. Buononcini’s was gay, as music should be. It was a mistake to delude oneself into thinking that because music was dull it was good.

And the King and the Queen and Princess Anne doted on Handel.

‘Buononcini should set up in opposition,’ said Bubb. ‘I’d wager Handel would still command the bigger audience.’ ‘What will you wager?’ asked Frederick.

Two thousand.’

‘Make it five and I’ll take you on.’

Dodington agreed and the bet was made. When the Prince betted others must too and that evening nothing else was talked of but Italian and the German musicians—not so much their merits but who could draw the bigger crowds, for that was to be the test.


* * *

Buononcini must have his rival theatre, but it was not difficult to obtain backers for a proposition so favoured by the Prince.

Soon at the theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields Buononcini’s operas were being performed in rivalry with Handel’s at the Haymarket.

The Princess Royal was furious, seeing in this her brother’s hatred of herself and his parents; and that he should direct this against her beloved music master was more than she could bear.

‘It will be useless,’ she stormed to Amelia and Caroline.

‘Lincoln’s Inn will never rival the Haymarket. And how can anyone in his senses compare the Italian with great Handel?’

But music had little to do with the affair. The King’s Court was dull; the Prince’s was becoming more lively. To it went all the rebels, all the young who wanted a change; and the way in which they could show their willingness to follow the Prince was to go to the theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.

Anne was desperate; she implored her parents to come with her to the opera.

‘Frederick is deliberately flouting us all,’ she declared; and the Queen agreed with her.

As for the King, he had hated his son from the first and he was ready to make a state occasion of a visit to the Haymarket.

And each week it became more and more obvious that the audience at the Haymarket was growing less and less and that at Lincoln’s Inn Fields greater.

There came a night when the King, the Queen, with the Princesses and young William, all seated in the royal box, were the only audience for the Handel opera.

To make this more humiliating the roads were jammed on the way to Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and as the theatre was filled to its capacity, people stood outside to wait for the Prince and his friends to leave that they might give them a cheer and shout ‘Long Live the Prince of Wales ... and Buononcini.’

The Prince had won his wager. The King was mightily discomfited; Handel and the Haymarket were in financial difficulties; and Walpole and the Queen were worried.

This was the full cycle.

The Prince of Wales had now come into the open as the enemy of the King and Queen.

Sarah Churchill’s Bargain


THERE was a woman who watched the antics of the Court with malicious pleasure. She was one of the richest women in England and had at one time been the most powerful. This was Sarah, the widowed Duchess of Marlborough.