I am the most unfortunate Princess in the world, she thought; and then : No. Amelia and Caroline are more so for they will have no choice at all, since if Orange is the only Protestant Prince available where can husbands be found for them?
The King went on : ‘And because your mother and I have had such a happy marriage, we could never force you into one which is repugnant to you. So we have decided that if you did not wish for this match, in spite of all the good Walpole thinks it would bring, there shall be no match.’
He was smiling at her benignly and she saw what he was waiting for. ‘Papa, you are very good to me.’
Then he took her into his arms and embraced her, so that all those watching from the Lodge saw; and as they knew what the interview was about they wondered whether that meant that the Princess Anne had accepted or refused the Prince of Orange.
That was Anne’s last concession to sentimentality. She decided there and then that she had no room for it in her life.
‘Papa,’ she said, ‘it is a question of marrying this ... hunchback ... or not marrying at all. I do not care to remain a spinster. Therefore I say that if he were a baboon I would marry him.’
The King was not noted for his tact. He nodded his head sadly and said : ‘Baboon it may well be, daughter.’
And they returned to the Lodge. The decision made.
Bolingbroke came to La Trappe to talk to the Prince and with Dodington discussed the proposed marriage.
‘This is a further insult,’ said Bolingbroke. ‘If there is to be a royal marriage, it should be that of the Prince of Wales. Who ever heard of a prince ... almost thirty years of age and unmarried. It is a plot to keep you from what is your due.’
Frederick was very ready to be inflamed. He could no longer mildly accept the neglect he received from his parents. It was true that his father had been treated similarly by his father, but there was no reason why it should become a family tradition.
‘Your Highness is too good natured,’ said Bolingbroke. ‘But you will not allow this to pass?’
Frederick looked expectant; he wanted to be told what should be done.
‘You should have an allowance of £100,000. It was what your father had as Prince of Wales.’
‘My debts ...’ wailed the Prince. ‘I cannot begin to calculate.’ He was regretting his failure to have married Lady Di which would have brought him the £100,000 he so desperately needed.
‘Could someone be found to raise the question in the House?’ asked Dodington.
Bolingbroke looked uneasy. Frederick was too unreliable to be a good leader; Walpole, even after the Excise h„ asco, was as strong as ever; and the King was not out of favour so much as he had been because the public were looking forward to the marriage of his daughter.
Any suggestion that the marriage portion should be diverted to Frederick at this time would not be popular. think just at the moment it would be unwise to raise the question in the House, but that is no reason why everyone should not know that the Prince is very dissatisfied with his father’s treatment.’
‘They already know it,’ said the Prince.
‘We must see that they never forget,’ replied Bolingbroke.
And during that summer when there was so much talk about the coming marriage of the Princess Royal, it was noticed that relations between the Prince and his parents grew more and more strained.
The King never addressed him in public; and someone remarked that the Prince must know what it felt like to be a ghost because when he stood near the King, His Majesty looked through him as though he were invisible to him.
As for the Queen, she spoke to him now and then, but only when it was necessary and the coldness of her manner was obvious.
So on one side there was the bustle of preparation for the royal wedding and on the other the uncertainty as to how long the present situation could go on between the Prince and his parents.
Lord Hervey was constantly at Court. The fact that he had quarrelled with the Prince of Wales endeared him to the King and Queen and the latter in particular had grown very fond of him.
As her Chamberlain he was constantly in her company; she liked his lively conversation which was spiced with malice and she allowed him a licence she would have given to no one else. Often he would sit beside her, beguiling her and the Princess Caroline with scandal about the people of the Court.
For the Queen this was a great release from the company of the King, and Hervey’s favour grew. As for the Princess Caroline, she thought him the most handsome, witty, and amusing man at Court. The fact that he was constantly suffering from some mysterious ailment endeared him to her, for the Princess herself did not enjoy good health and Hervey could beguile her with details of the latest cure for this and that. He would on occasion arrive at the Queen’s apartments looking wan beneath his rouge and explain to the Princess that he was back on his diet of asses’ milk with powdered crabs’ eyes and oyster shells, but he felt it was sapping his strength and he should go back to seed and vegetable.
His physical frailty did not impair the agility of his mind, however, and the Queen’s eyes would brighten at the sight of him, and if he did not put in an appearance she would enquire tenderly after his health.
All during that summer the Court hunted in Windsor forest on Wednesdays and Saturdays which, with his usual precision, the King had decided should be hunting time. The Queen, though she did not care for the hunt, was nevertheless obliged to attend, for the King would have been most displeased if she did not. She followed the hunt in her chaise, and Lord Hervey who confessed to her that he found no pleasure in hearing dogs bark and seeing crowds gallop, rode beside her and they continued their interesting discussions.
With the coming of autumn, news of the arrival of the Prince of Orange was brought to the Palace.
The King had decided that he should be lodged in Somerset House and then seemed to lose interest in him, and although the people were seething with excitement and longing for a glimpse of the bridegroom, George gave no orders for his reception.
So Orange came to Somerset House without much fuss and ceremony; but he would soon of course come to wait on the King.
The Queen sent for Lord Hervey.
He came, delicately handsome, and she gave him her hand, smiling warmly. Hervey kissed it with a flourish.
‘As always at Your Majesty’s service,’ he murmured.
‘Go along to Somerset House. I wish to know what sort of animal has come to England to marry my daughter. I hear he is most unprepossessing and I want to know the worst so that I don’t show too much shock when I am brought face to face with him.’
Hervey said that Her Majesty could trust him to bring her a truthful account.
Amelia came into her sister’s apartments prepared to commiserate.
‘He is here,’ she said. ‘He is at Somerset House.’
‘Is that so?’ replied Anne calmly. She was seated at her mirror studying her face, for her women had just left her after dressing her hair. Her complexion would really have been dazzling but for the ravages of the smallpox. But then, Anne consoled herself, who did not show signs of the smallpox? And it was in a way an asset because it showed that having passed successfully through the scourge, though scathed, one was for ever after immune.
‘You do not seem in the least concerned,’ said Amelia. ‘Should I?’
Amelia threw herself into a chair and folded her arms in a rather masculine gesture. ‘My God! she said. ‘Your bridegroom has arrived. He is in London. And you wonder whether you should be concerned!’