Виктория Холт - Caroline the Queen

‘Greatly taken.’

‘And delighted when he turned out to be George Augustus in disguise?’

She laughed. ‘Yes, we were happy and ours was a good marriage. That is why we suffer so much to think of Anne’s.’

‘Oh, if only we could find a nice Protestant worthy Prince for our daughter! ‘

‘Alas, there was only Orange.’

‘And he will soon have the life squeezed out of him.’ The King laughed at his little joke and the Queen laughed with him.

‘But I am afraid,’ said the Queen, ‘that Anne will be very distressed to lose him, since we can find no one else to take his place.’

They were wrong. Anne showed no signs of distress. She continued to play the harpsichord and to sing with her friends from the opera as though nothing had happened.

The Prince of Orange was in a dangerous state for a week and then began to recover, although slowly; and it was still believed that he might not live.

The King shrugged his shoulders and said that he would not visit the Prince as if he did not recover he could not marry his daughter and therefore would be nothing to him. He didn’t like the man, anyway. He was scarcely a man, being so ugly and deformed. He must look after himself and think himself lucky that he was allowed to stay at Somerset House for his illness.

The Queen suggested that members of the family should perhaps visit the invalid to cheer him up in his convalescence.

‘No,’ thundered the King. ‘I forbid it.’

So through the long winter the Prince of Orange tried to throw off the effects of his illness, ignored by the royal family. His retinue of servants grumbled incessantly about this treatment and would have liked to have left for Holland, but the Prince was diplomatic. He knew that marriage with the daughter of the King of England was the best possible match he could make and for this he was ready to sink his dignity.

He grew better and went to Kensington and later to Bath to complete his recovery. He was determined that the marriage should take place and he knew that while he remained in England it had a good chance of doing so.

With the coming of March he returned to London and sent a messenger to the King with the news that he was now well enough to marry, and expressed his wish that the long delayed ceremony should now take place.

Anne, who when he had been ill had behaved as though he did not exist, now showed some interest in her marriage. Once more the King asked her if she was sure that she wanted to go on with it.

‘You cannot find me another husband,’ was her answer, ‘so I have no choice but to take this one.’

‘That or allow everything to remain as it was,’ the Queen reminded her.

‘I choose marriage,’ said Anne coldly.

* * *

The marriage was fixed for the 14th of March and was to be performed in the little French chapel adjoining St James’s. During the days preceding the 14th there was a great deal of activity not only in the Palace but throughout the Court. Velvets, gold and silver tissue was used in the chapel drapings. The lustres and sconces were gilded; and never had the chapel looked so gay. The procession would have to pass from the Palace to the chapel so a covered gallery was set up and covered with orange-coloured cloth.

The Queen, relying absolutely on the good taste of Lord Hervey, commanded him to be in charge of operations and he arranged the decorations not only for the chapel but for the gallery which he determined should look magnificent when it was illuminated; and which he calculated would hold four thousand people.

An air of excitement was everywhere. The only disgruntled comment was that of the old Duchess of Marlborough who could see the gallery from the windows of Marlborough House and grumbled incessantly about it.

‘I’m longing for the day when neighbour George takes his orange chest away,’ she cried. ‘It spoils my view.’

But nobody cared about the old Duchess’s complaints; and that was her greatest complaint of all: Nobody cared.

And all those who had tickets for a place in the gallery to see the procession pass laughed at her and said she was an old fool who didn’t know that her day was over.

But Sarah could laugh as she stood at the windows of Marlborough House and looked out at the gaping crowds. But for a stroke of ill luck she might have shown them that she was still to be reckoned with. What if she had succeeded in marrying Lady Di to the Prince of Wales!

They made a big mistake if they thought they could jeer at Sarah Churchill while there was breath in her body.

* * *

It was seven o’clock at night when the ceremony began. Orange, with his attendants, was waiting in the Great Council Chamber for the moment when he must sally forth. The Prince was magnificently attired in gold and silver brocade and his peruke had been very cleverly contrived so that the curls cascaded over his back and hid the worst of his deformity. His attendants glittered beside him and, apart from his low stature, for he appeared to be bent double, he looked less grotesque than on any other occasion.

In the great drawing room Anne with her ladies was also waiting for the signal. She looked almost beautiful; there was about her an air of rapt resignation; her gown was of silver tissue and her necklace was made up of twenty-two huge diamonds; she glittered splendidly; and so did the ten girls who were her bridesmaids and whose duty it was to carry the six-yard-long train of silver tissue.

In the King’s lesser drawing room George and Caroline waited with their children.

George gave way to one or two mild displays of bad temper. He was thinking that he didn’t like the marriage; it was going to cost a great deal; and what had they got for it? Orange! A minor Prince who had nothing much to offer their daughter, and was there simply because he was the only Protestant Prince available.

‘Stand up straight!’ he shouted to the Duke of Cumberland. ‘And don’t look so sullen. I suppose you’re wishing it was your wedding!’

‘That would hardly be possible, Papa, at my age.’

‘You don’t like anyone to have anything but yourself. And you could look a little more pleasant, Emily.’ Emily was a name the family sometimes used for Amelia.

‘It is not really such a pleasant occasion, is it, Papa?’

Oh dear, thought the Queen, her family were becoming difficult. Very soon Frederick would not be the only one who was quarrelling with his father.

‘It was a wonderful necklace he gave her,’ said William. ‘Twenty-two diamonds. I should like to know the cost of them.’

‘One would not have thought a poor Prince could give his bride such a gift,’ put in Amelia.

‘This is not the time to be talking about diamonds,’ the King reproved them. ‘You ought to be thinking of your sister.’

‘I am so sorry for her,’ put in young Caroline.

‘Be silent,’ commanded the King, ‘or you’ll upset your mother.’

He smiled at his wife. This was one of the occasions when he felt sentimental towards her.

He took her hand gently, for it was time to leave for the chapel.

* * *

The watchers in the gallery said that it was more like a funeral than a wedding procession. The Queen was so obviously deeply affected and this was not the emotion of a mother seeing her daughter married; it was clear that the Queen was the most anxious because of the bridegroom.

In his gold and silver brocade he certainly looked like a performing animal dressed up to resemble a man; but his manners were good and he seemed affable; and he was a Prince. Only the bride seemed unaffected. She made her responses in a clear audible voice and she showed no sign of the repugnance she must have felt.

How can she thought the Queen. My poor dear child!

But the ceremony was carried out without a hitch and in time the banquet, which was eaten in public, took place. The Princess sat beside the Prince and they were seen smiling and talking together, neither in the least disturbed.

But, thought the Queen, the worst is to come.

She wished that they had not brought this old French custom to England whereby the married pair were put to bed by their courtiers—always an embarrassment to the couple but in circumstances like this a most trying ordeal.

There was a look of avid curiosity on the faces of all the people assembled in the bedchamber to see the arrival of the bride and groom who were in their separate apartments being undressed and prepared for bed by their servants.

Anne came in in her nightgown looking shorn of her dignity and to her mother extremely pathetic. Caroline was thinking of her own mother whose second marriage had been so disastrous and she felt ready to weep for all Princesses who were given in marriage to men almost strangers to them.

But Anne looked as serene as ever as she was helped to the bed and sat in it awaiting the arrival of the bridegroom.

Then he came.

Oh, God, thought the Queen, it is as bad as I thought. For with his nightcap replacing his flowing periwig he was revealed in all his deformity. From the back he appeared to have no head, so stooped was he, and from the front no neck nor legs.

There was a deep silence as he was led to the bed and took his place beside the Princess.

He did indeed look inhuman.

The Queen believed she was going to faint. Amelia and Caroline were on either side of her and she caught a quick glimpse of the horror on their faces.

Through the room passed all those whose duty it was to pay their respects and wish the marriage fruitful.

And through all this Anne sat up in bed smiling calmly as though, thought the Queen, it were a normal man who was beside her and not this ... monster.

* * *

The Queen had little sleep that night.

She kept waking and thinking of her daughter. My poor child, how is she surviving this terrible ordeal? Does she understand what marriage means?

She was silent while she was dressed and at breakfast she was joined by her daughters who could not refrain from talking of this terrible thing which had happened to their sister.

‘I would rather die than marry such a monster,’ declared Amelia.

‘How she must have suffered! ‘ sighed Caroline.

Lord Hervey joined the party; he was full of chat about what the people were saying.

The Queen sighed and said: ‘My lord, I have been weeping bitterly. When I saw that monster come into the room to go to bed with my daughter I thought I should faint. You must be sorry for my poor daughter.’

‘Madam,’ answered Lord Hervey, ‘the Princess Anne seemed satisfied with her lot and I have never been one to pity those who don’t pity themselves.’

‘My poor, poor Anne. It is all very well for you to talk, my lord. You married one of the most beautiful women at the Court.’

Lord Hervey lifted his shoulders and was aware that the Princess Caroline was regarding him intently. Poor child, he thought. How she adores me ... madly and hopelessly! What does she think will ever come of her passion for me? Still, it was pleasant to be so adored, particularly by one of the Princesses.

‘Madam,’ he said, ‘in half a year all persons are alike.

The figure of a body one is married to, like the prospect of the place one lives at, grows so familiar to one’s eye that one looks at it mechanically without regarding either the beauties or deformities which strike a stranger.’

As usual Lord Hervey had the power to comfort the Queen.

Yet Caroline and her daughters continued to mourn the terrible fate which had befallen the Princess Anne; but Anne herself showed no sign of mourning; and when she and the Prince appeared together although he took little notice of her, she was very eager to please him and Lord Hervey said he was sure that in the eyes of his wife the Prince of Orange was Adonis.

HENRIETTA HOWARD was seeking a way out of an intolerable position. The King still visited her, but everything she said he disagreed with, and did not hesitate to tell her so in the most abusive terms. He hated his visits, but because he had been making them for years he could not stop them. He would sit at a table setting his watch before him, waiting for the time to pass.