‘Fred is our thorn in the flesh,’ said the Queen.
Breakfasts were very peaceful occasions now that the King could not descend on them and reprove them for taking too much chocolate. And oh, the comfort of a dish of chocolate! sighed the Queen.
Of course she was anxious about Amelia who was flirting openly with the Dukes of Grafton and Newcastle. She believed that affair with Grafton was quite serious and she was afraid to enquire too closely into it. Amelia was no longer a young girl; she was very much the eldest daughter now that Anne was in Holland, and determined to receive the homage due to her. She was very proud and haughty and this did not endear her to the public, nor to her immediate circle; and her preoccupation with hunting and animals made her appear rather masculine. Caroline was her comfort. Dear Caroline, who was so virtuous and truthful and could be relied upon; but even she was a cause for anxiety, for lately she had been complaining of rheumatic pains and the doctors could do little for them. Caroline was her comfort and William her pride. As for the two little girls they were young yet, but already showing signs of their personalities. Mary was meek, rather like Caroline, but Louisa the youngest was vivacious and impulsive, traits which might well have to be watched as time passed.
The peace of this breakfast was, however, shattered by Caroline of all people, when she announced that she really was most ashamed of her silly little sister-in-law.
‘Mamma, what do you think she does? She walks in Kensington Gardens with a page holding up her train! A train, Mamma, in the informality of the gardens! And that is not all. Two gentleman ushers and her chamberlain have to lead the way, and her maids of honour have to walk behind.’
‘But this is ... ridiculous. Why does she do it?’
‘Because, Mamma, the silly girl is not accustomed to being the Princess of Wales.’
‘Fred will have to learn how easily people can be laughed at in this country.’
‘Fred, Mamma, will never learn anything, I fear. He has put Lady Archibald Hamilton among her ladies and the poor little simpleton does not know why.’
‘Do not blame her for her simplicity, Caroline,’ said the Queen. ‘Remember she knows nothing but what Fred teaches her; and after all it is no bad thing to be a docile wife.’
‘Let her go on being a docile wife and doing what Fred tells her. That is the quickest way to upset the people.’
The Queen was thoughtful. ‘I wonder who allowed her to walk out in that way. Perhaps Lady Archibald Hamilton takes a pleasure in making a fool of her. Caroline, tell her that she should not walk in the gardens like a Queen at her coronation. Explain that it would be better if she walked informally as we all do.’
Caroline said rather tartly for her that she would take an early opportunity of telling her sister-in-law what a fool she was making of herself.
Poor Caroline, thought the Queen. I suppose her pains are bad today. She suffers even as I do; and of course, even though her pains came from a less humiliating cause the custom in the royal family was to keep silent about one’s ailments.
And here was Lord Hervey come to cheer them. The Princess Caroline’s face lit up with pleasure and she looked a different girl from the one who had talked so slightingly of her young sister-in-law.
The most serious disaster of that unhappy summer occurred in Edinburgh. Scotland had always stood behind the Stuarts and had never accepted the Hanoverian rules, so that it was regarded in the South as a spot where trouble could quickly flare up. And it seemed it was about to do so.
The trouble began absurdly when two smugglers named Wilson and Robertson were arrested and put into the Tolbooth to await execution, the penalty for smuggling. This was an unpopular punishment for taxation was never popular and it was believed that if a man was clever enough to outwit the tax men what he gained was a just reward. These two prisoners, however, attempted to escape and their method was to file off their chains and cut through one bar of their window. This they managed, and Wilson who was older than Robertson and considerably fatter insisted on going first. He did, but he became jammed in the window and thus not only did he prevent his own escape but that of Robertson also.
The people of Edinburgh were intrigued with the story and all sympathy was on the side of the prisoners. The day of their execution was fixed and, in accordance with the custom, they were taken to church the Sunday before. Wilson, smitten with remorse because his selfishness had prevented the escape of his fellow prisoner, attacked the guards in church and shouted to Robertson to escape, which he did. This exploit delighted the people who did all they could to help Robertson, but Wilson remained and the Captain of the guard, John Porteous, declared that such a dangerous man should be hanged without delay and the sentence should be carried out the next day.
Wilson was duly hanged, but crowds turned out to see the execution and several tried to get the body from the gibbet to give it a decent burial. John Porteous, who was hated by the mob, ordered the soldiers to fire on the crowd and several people were killed.
Porteous managed to reach the guard house but so unpopular was he that because of public insistence he was arrested and sentenced to death. He appealed to the Queen who reprieved him.
It was this reprieve which enraged the people of Edinburgh. What right had the German woman in London to interfere in a purely Scottish affair?
They would not have it. ‘Let the usurper go back to Hanover!’ they shouted. ‘And long live James III.’
They stormed the jail where Porteous was celebrating with his friends because of the reprieve. The friends managed to escape but Porteous, afraid to be seen by the mob, hid himself in the chimney. There he was discovered, dragged out of the prison and hanged in sight of the mob.
‘So much for Germans! ‘ cried the people of Edinburgh. ‘Let them keep their rule for the English. Scotland rules herself.’
When this news was brought to Caroline she was angry. This was a direct flouting of her order; it would have happened if the King had given the reprieve, but it would be said that she had failed, and the Prince of Wales would make much of the failure.
In her anger she began to consider taking punitive measures; but she was quick to realize the tone of the Scottish peers who defended their fellow countrymen in the Lords.
Walpole discussed the matter with her and advised against action. A nominal gesture, perhaps. A fine of two thousand pounds on the city of Edinburgh.
Caroline saw the point of this; and when a young girl walked to London from Edinburgh to see her to beg for a reprieve for her sister who had been condemned to death because of the suspected murder of her illegitimate child, the Queen saw the girl and granted a pardon which the sister triumphantly took back to Edinburgh with an account of the Queen’s mercy.
But the Edinburgh affair while it lasted had threatened to be an even bigger disaster than the Spitalfields riots or the resistance to the Gin Act; and this was the most troubled of her Regencies.
And as these affairs seemed to settle themselves she was conscious of the real brooding shadow which threatened her peace now and in the future: Frederick.
Frederick did everything he possibly could to upset his mother and show his contempt for her Regency. He would talk openly of the scandal of the Gin Act and the state of Spitalfields workers; he sided with the Scots in the Porteous controversy; he spread the scandal about Madame de Walmoden and the ladder affair; he was constantly reminding his companions of his father’s dislike for England, of his long stay in Hanover. It was clear that he was trying to make a royal court just as, Caroline reflected bitterly, she and his father had done when they had quarrelled with his grandfather.