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  if she had married George would probably have been no friend to the Princess

  Augusta.

  All past history— but one could not help recalling it at times like these when

  there was a wedding in the family. And so she had come here and been horrified

  to see what a poor place the palace was and even more so when Charles had made

  it clear that he had no intention of giving up his mistress because he had acquired a wife and that the latter was of no great importance in his life— although he

  would endeavour to give her children— while the other woman remained

  supreme—

  What a position for a proud Princess to be forced into— and an English

  Princess at that. But she had succumbed and done her duty and produced her sons

  — two mentally-deficient, one blind, then her daughters and another boy— all of

  whom seemed brilliant in comparison with their brothers.

  At least I have my children, though I have no control over them, she thought fretfully. They take no notice of what I say, and it is all due to the fact that they know who really rules here with the Duke. One would have thought he might have become tired of her by now. But that would not do. Who knew what arrogant

  upstart might take her place?

  The Duke alas was a very sensual man and was not entirely faithful even to

  Madame de Hertzfeldt; but of course none of his other peccadilloes were serious

  or long lasting; and on more than one occasion she had reported them to her great rival in order that they could be brought to a hasty conclusion. She supposed that she accepted Madame de Hertzfeldt who was such an admirable woman in so

  many ways, and while she took command of affairs she always openly paid the

  correct respect to the Duchess.

  So the Duchess must be content with her lot for she would have been far less

  happy in England, she knew, living a life of dreary spinsterhood. She had realized that in February 1772 when she had gone back to England at the time of her

  mother’s death; but for the fact that her mother had wished to see her and they

  could not ignore her dying wish; Charlotte and George would have prevented her

  coming. As it was they had given her a little house in Pall Mall instead of lodging her at one of the royal palaces.

  She recalled her anger and how she had almost returned to Brunswick before

  the funeral. It would seem that she was to be slighted everywhere.

  How strange when she considered what a forceful young woman she had been

  at home in England as the Princess Royal.

  But Charles had changed her. From the moment she had realized he intended

  to be master and had accepted her inability to prevent it, she had sunk meekly into her place, had borne his children— and the fact that the three boys were abnormal had perhaps contributed to her meekness accepted Madame de Hertzfeldt and

  even allowed her children to have some respect for the woman.

  Now she sighed and thought of Charlotte soon to leave her home for a new

  life with a husband.

  ‘I pray,’ said the Duchess, ‘that she is more fortunate than I.’

  ————————

  Charlotte was a dazzling bride, for she was very pretty.

  ‘When she has gone,’ Caroline told the Baroness, ‘I shall be the prettiest

  princess at the Court because being the only princess I must be the prettiest.’

  ‘You occupy your mind with matters of no importance,’ she was reproved, at

  which she retorted that her beauty was of great importance. Did the Baroness

  forget that one day very soon— she would have to please a husband?

  The Baroness sighed and reminded her of the serious little girl she had been

  and how when she had been asked in what country the lion could be found replied

  stoutly: ‘In the heart of a Brunswicker.’

  ‘I have heard the tale many times,’ said Caroline yawning. ‘What a horrid

  little creature I must have been— even worse then, than now.’

  ‘It was a good answer,’ replied the Baroness, ‘and I trust you will never forget

  it.’

  ‘Ah,’ retorted Caroline, ‘there is a sequel to the story. You’ve forgotten how I

  escaped from you all at carousel and rode round and round on the horses which

  was very dangerous you said and for which I should be punished, until I pointed

  out that fear was something a Brunswicker knew nothing about so how could you

  expect me, a Brunswicker, to be aware that I was causing you anxiety.’

  ‘You have always—’

  ‘Talked too much. So you have already told me. And I will repeat that when

  Charlotte has gone, I shall be the prettiest princess in Brunswick.’

  But never, she thought when she was watching her sister at the wedding

  ceremony, as pretty as Charlotte.

  She gazed at her father standing erect beside the bride ready to pass her over

  to her prince.

  Dear Papa, he is the greatest man in the world, I believe, she thought. Neither of us will ever find a man to compare with him.

  And she began to picture herself standing there, all eyes on her in her bridal

  gown with the shadowy figure of a bridegroom beside her.

  Later at the banquet in the great hall at the place of honour and Caroline

  continued to watch them. Charlotte was very gay, almost hysterically so. I know exactly how she feels, thought Caroline . For I should feel exactly the same.

  How she would miss Charlotte! She turned to her brother Frederick William

  and said to him: ‘There are only the two of us left now, for you can’t count the

  others.’

  Frederick looked rather shocked, but she laughed at him. It was silly to

  pretend. Everyone knew their brothers were shut away from the rest of the family

  because of the affliction, so why pretend?

  Her eye caught that of John Stanley, the English boy who clearly showed how

  much he admired her. She would take the first opportunity of talking to him.

  When the dancing began she went to him smiling. His eyes were full of

  admiration. ‘Of course,’ she said, ‘I am not supposed to talk to you in this way.’

  ‘N— no, Your Highness.’

  ‘But who cares for rules and etiquette? Do you?’

  ‘Not if you do not wish me to.’

  ‘Let us join the dancers. Then we shall be less conspicuous. Then I can talk to

  you. You will find that I talk a great deal. You come from England, do you not?

  As you know the Duchess is English. She cannot forget it, and nor are we allowed

  to. Oh, you are shocked. How delightful! Do you think I am so very shocking?

  But of course you do, and it would be foolish of you not to, because I am.

  Shocking and indiscreet.’

  ‘Your Highness, I think you are—’

  ‘Yes, come along. Don’t hesitate. I dislike hesitation.’

  ‘I think you are very handsome.’

  ‘You think my looks are handsome, but that my speech is forward and

  immodest and just what a princess’s should not be?’

  ‘I think that only sweet words could flow from such lips.’

  ‘Oh, what a charming compliment. I do believe, John Thomas Stanley, that

  you have fallen in love with me. Oh, don’t deny it. It is all very right and proper, for if my sister has a lover, why should not I?’

  John Stanley was overcome with dismay and pleasure. The Princess Caroline

  was not only the most beautiful girl he had ever met, she was the most unusual.

  Her conduct was noticed.

  What can one do with suc
h a girl? sighed her mother to herself. She is wild—

  like all of them. We can only pray that she is not too wild.

  Her father promised himself that he would reprimand her later, but she would

  be sad missing Charlotte, so let her amuse herself a little on Charlotte’s wedding day.

  Madame de Hertzfeldt was asking herself how much like her brothers

  Caroline might be and what was the right treatment to mete out to such a girl. A

  great responsibility rested on her guardians she felt sure. She must choose an

  opportunity to speak to the Duke about his younger daughter when matters of

  state were less burdensome.

  So Caroline flirted openly with John Thomas Stanley; and when it was

  necessary to say goodbye to Charlotte the young man did much to reconcile her to

  the parting.

  ————————

  ‘What I shall envy Charlotte most,’ declared Caroline to the long suffering

  Baroness de Bode, ‘will be her children. Oh, Baroness, how I long to have a

  child.’

  The Baroness folded her hands together and looked up to the ceiling.

  ‘Now Baroness, what is wrong with that?’

  ‘It is an immodest subject.’

  ‘Nonsense. How could the world go on without children?’ ‘It is immodest for

  a young girl to— to—’

  ‘To talk of adding to the coming generations? But surely that would be a

  benefit to mankind. Admit it, Baroness.’

  ‘Your Highness, I do not know what will become of you. I tremble to think.’

  ‘Then you should think more, Madam, and it would, with practice, become

  less of an effort. That might cure the trembling. A little baby— a dear little baby

  — ! What a miracle! When shall I have a husband? How tiresome, that one must

  have a husband before one can have a baby, for do you know, Baroness, I think I

  should almost prefer the latter to the former.’

  The Baroness put her fingers to her ears.

  ‘Pray remove your fingers,’ cried Caroline. I promise you I will no longer

  assault your ears. Instead I shall go to see my children.’

  Caroline flounced out of the schoolroom, leaving the Baroness murmuring to

  herself: Should I speak to the Duchess? But of what use? It will have to be to Madame de Hertzfeldt. And what can one expect in a household when the wife

  takes second place to the mistress?

  Meanwhile Caroline rode out of the palace. She should have taken a groom

  with her, but she had no intention of doing so. First of all she would call on the newest arrival— a baby boy three weeks old. He had been a little sickly at birth

  and was improving now. She had ordered the cooks to send food to the

  household, for if the baby were to thrive, the mother must be well fed.

  There he was in his crib. She lifted him out . I think he knows me. Look, he is smiling.

  She was happy, sitting in the old wooden rocking chair holding the baby. How

  they adored her, these cottage people. They called her ‘Good Princess Caroline’.

  Good, she thought, for doing what I want. How easy it is to be good.

  She told the mother that food would arrive the following day and she would

  see that the baby was properly clothed. And after that she went on to see her next protégé. The people cheered her as she rode through the town They had all heard

  stories of her love for children and how households containing them benefited.

  Any mother in distress only had to ask help from Princess Caroline and it came—

  not as they had been accustomed to receiving help from royalty, not an

  impersonal steward distributing a few comforts at Christmas-time, but with

  genuine interest. It did one good, many had said, to see the Princess Caroline

  come into a humble room and take a child upon her knees.

  She never did so without saying to herself ‘Oh, if only I had a child of my

  own!’

  Caroline cannot go to the Ball

  THE months flew by— one year, two years. There was little news from

  Charlotte, except that she had given birth to a child. Lucky Charlotte!

  ‘When will there be a suitor for me?’ Caroline demanded not only of the

  Baroness de Bode but of her older governess, Baroness von Münster.

  ‘When the time is ripe your parents will answer that question,’ replied the

  Baroness von Münster.

  ‘Then I pray it may be soon,’ replied Caroline, and was silent, for she dare not

  bait the elderly Baroness as she did poor Madame de Bode.

  To the latter she remarked that if her parents did not provide a husband for her

  soon she would have to find one for herself.

  John Thomas Stanley was no longer at the Court. In any case she had not been

  seriously concerned with him. She began to look about her. There was the young

  Count Walmoden who had royal blood in his veins because his grandmother had

  been the famous mistress of George II of England. And there was another

  descendant of George II, the Count von Schulemberg, who was reputed to be very

  rich indeed, having inherited some of the vast wealth which Ermengarda von

  Schulemberg, Duchess of Kendal, had amassed during her long reign as the

  king’s favourite.

  Would such young men be considered suitable consorts? Of course not. How

  exasperating to be a Princess and have to wait until a husband was chosen for

  one! If she were a commoner— not like the people in the cottages, of course, but

  a Baroness like Madame de Bode— she could go to the ball next week and

  perhaps there meet a man, fall in love, marry and have children. What bliss!

  The Baroness de Bode decided that she must really speak to someone about

  Princess Caroline and that meant of course speaking to Madame de Hertzfeldt.

  The Duchess was too vague; moreover she was English and somewhat at odds

  with her children’s governesses because she was constantly reiterating that they

  should be educated in the English way, which seemed absurd. How could the

  Princess be educated in the English manner without English tutors? And of what

  use would such an education be since she was German? And what, the Baroness

  asked herself, was the English method of education? If the Duchess was an

  example of it, then, for the sake of the Princess, she should be educated as a

  German.

  What a household, where one must speak to the father’s mistress rather than

  the mother of one’s charge! But there was no help for it and no matter how

  resentful a good and somewhat puritanical woman like the Baroness de Bode felt

  when contemplating the situation, in the presence of Madame de Hertzfeldt she

  could have nothing but respect for that lady.

  She was granted an audience immediately, for Madame de Hertzfeldt

  considered the bringing up of the Duke’s daughter a matter of great importance.

  ‘I am disturbed, Madam, by the Princess Caroline,’ began the Baroness.

  Madame de Hertzfeldt sighed. Were they not all disturbed by the royal

  children? ‘She speaks constantly of marriage— men and children.’

  ‘It has been so since the Princess Charlotte married?’

  ‘Yes, Madam.’

  ‘She is now approaching the age her sister was when she married.’

  ‘That’s true, Madam, and I am a little fearful. I was wondering whether her

  freedom should be restricted a little.”

  Madame de Hertzfeldt was thoughtful. One
would have to go very carefully.

  She said: ‘Thank you, Baroness. This is a matter of some importance. I will speak of it to the Duchess.’

  The Baroness retired, knowing that the admirable Madame de Hertzfeldt

  would speak to the Duke and together they would decide what should be done;

  then they would give the Duchess her instructions as to what orders she was to

  make known to the Princess’s governess.

  It was, of course, admitted the Baroness, the discretion one would have

  expected from Madame de Hertzfeldt and this discretion was no doubt the reason

  why she reigned supreme in the Court of Brunswick.

  ————————

  ‘Not go to the ball!’ cried Caroline, her eyes flashing. ‘And why, pray?’

  ‘Because,’ replied the Baroness, ‘it is decided that you shall not go. You are

  too young as yet to go to balls.’

  ‘I— too young— when I have been at balls since before Charlotte’s marriage.

  Am I growing younger then, Madam, that I have suddenly become too young?’

  The Baroness said that there was no point in discussing the matter further for

  the orders had come to her and she had obeyed them.

  ‘So my mother has decided this, has she?’

  ‘It has been decided,’ replied the Baroness.

  ‘Stop talking like a silly old oracle. I tell you I will go to the ball— I will— I will!’

  When Caroline talked like that she was really alarming; her eyes seemed to

  grow black and her face flushed scarlet.

  There was nothing the Baroness could do but leave her.

  ————————

  Caroline lay on her bed biting her fists in fury. ‘I must go to the ball,’ she

  murmured. ‘Perhaps tonight will be the most important night in my life. Perhaps

  tonight I shall meet my lover. I will go to the ball. I will. Why should they stop me? There is Charlotte— married at sixteen. And I am nearly sixteen and not

  allowed to go to the ball. I won’t have it. I won’t.’

  But what could she do? The realization of the futility of this increased her

  anger. I have no ball dress? Nonsense. I’d wear an old one. I’d go in as

  Aphrodite. I’d go as anybody—

  The laughter started to bubble up, uncontrollable laughter. Imagine her

  entering the ballroom as Aphrodite. She would demand they announce her. ‘My

  lords and ladies, the Princess Caroline is unable to attend tyranny and in her place Aphrodite has risen from the sea— to attend the ball.’