Oh, yes, the people had murmured against the lovers. The Duchess remembered the shouts of ‘Jackboot’— a play on Bute’s name— and ‘Petticoat’
which used to be shouted in the streets. But they were amused by them, and there were cartoons and caricatures. No one had suggested treason. She knew that the English were the most tolerant people in the world. They liked their Royalty to amuse them and a little scandal was very palatable.
In her frivolous way she was about to tell Caroline this; but even she realized the effect it might have on her daughter.
So she said nothing; and held the offending letter in the flame of a candle.
As soon as Christmas was over, preparations to leave went on at great speed, and when a message came from the Prince of Wales to say that in spite of the Duke’s intercession on her behalf he forbade Mademoiselle Rosenzweig to accompany her mistress, Caroline was thrown into a fury of rage. ‘Why, Why, why?’ she demanded. Lord Malmesbury with his customary tact managed to calm her.
There was doubtless a reason, he told her, but he could not tell her because he did not know it. He begged her to be patient. He would be her friend and counsellor in all things; and he believed she would find him as useful as a secretary.
‘The dear man,’ cried Caroline afterwards when taking, farewell of Mademoiselle Rosenzweig, I could have flung my arms about his neck when he said that. And he does, my dear Rosenzweig, comfort me a great deal for my loss of you.’
There was no time for grieving; the journey was about to begin and it was by no means the best time of the year for travelling; the roads would be icy; and it might even be dangerous. Caroline was not put out at the thought. At least it would be exciting.
On December 29th 1794, at two o’clock in the afternoon, they left Brunswick.
The Duke said his goodbyes to his daughter very tenderly; and she wept a little.
Dear Papa, she thought, he really was very good to me; and I suppose next to Major von Töbingen, I love him best in the world. He had been stern often and she was a little afraid of him but he had always been concerned for her, though never so much as now.
‘Goodbye, dearest Papa,’ she said.
‘Caroline, my dear child, try to be happy.’
‘It shall be my purpose in life, Papa.’
‘And please listen to the advice of older and wiser people.’
She promised she would. She got into the carriage where her mother was already seated, for the Duchess was accompanying her to Hanover.
Then the Duke took his leave of Lord Malmesbury and begged him to be a second father to his daughter until that time when she should be under her husband’s care, which Lord Malmesbury promised he would do and in a manner so fervent that the Duke’s fears were considerably appeased.
The cannons on the ramparts of the palace were fired; and the carriages began their journey. Through Brunswick the people came out to see it pass and to cheer their dear Princess who had always been good to them and their children.
Long life to her, they shouted. She, Princess of Wales— their own Caroline, who would one day be Queen of England, When the cavalcade reached Osnabrück there was grave news waiting for them. Malmesbury had planned to travel through Holland, but according to the dispatch, the enemy of England, the French, had marched into Holland and that country was in danger. It was impossible therefore to contemplate taking the Princess of Wales by that route and the squadron of ships under Commodore Payne which was to be meant to convey the Princess to England had, in view of the situation, returned to England. There was nothing to do but call a halt at Osnabrück and consider the next move.
This was irksome, for without the influence of the Duke and Madame de Hertzfeldt, both mother and daughter became very unstable. The Princess openly flouted her mother; the Duchess gossiped incessantly; and the improvement which Lord Malmesbury believed he had begun with the Princess seemed to have evaporated. Caroline was a little truculent. She did not take his veiled criticisms so readily as she had at Brunswick. She was far too familiar with her attendants and called them her dears, her little ones, her darlings; and when Lord Malmesbury reminded her of the need to combine affability with dignity, she was a little haughty with him as though reminding him that he was merely the King’s ambassador while she was the wife of the Prince of Wales.
There is going to be trouble, thought Malmesbury.
The Duchess having heard that the French were not far off was thrown into a panic.
Caroline found her preparing to depart and reported this to Malmesbury at which the Earl went at once to the Duchess and remonstrated with her.
‘Madam,’ he said, ‘you cannot surely wish to leave your daughter unchaperoned.’
‘Nonsense!’ said the Duchess. ‘She is surrounded by women and she has you here to look after her. If the French were to come here, I don’t see why I should be here to be captured. They’ve always hated the English and they’d remember I am one.’
‘Madam, I crave your pardon, but I am in charge of the Princess and I cannot allow you to leave Her Highness until her ladies arrive from England.’
‘And when will this be?’ demanded the Duchess.
‘That, Madam, I cannot say, since our plans have been frustrated by the advancing French armies.’
The Duchess could do nothing but obey for it was true that the Earl of Malmesbury was in charge; and it was in any case her duty to stay with her daughter.
Caroline cried: ‘If you wish to go, go― I do not want you to stay with me if you prefer not to.’
They wrangled together, and Lord Malmesbury was more concerned with their behaviour than with the advancing French.
What will become of her in England? he asked himself. He made up his mind that it would be better to retreat to Hanover and stay there until he could be sure of conveying the Princess safely to England. From there he sent dispatches to the King and the Prince and settled down to wait for action.
Perhaps, he thought, this enforced stay at Hanover was not such a calamity.
The Princess was most certainly not ready to be presented to her husband. He had a few weeks respite and because he was fond of her, he was very anxious to helps.
her all he could.
He had been shocked— but at the same time touched when as they prepared to leave Osnabrück she had suggested he ride in the carriage with her.
‘To tell you the truth, my lord,’ she said in her most confidential and somewhat coquettish manner, I am heartily, sick of my mother’s company and feel sure I should not only enjoy yours more, but profit from it.’
‘Quite impossible,’ he had retorted coldly. ‘It would be most improper.’
This had sent her into peals of that uncontrolled laughter: which he always found so alarming.
‘Your Highness,’ he had told her, ‘must really take greater care in your behaviour towards your servants.’
‘But I do not regard a noble lord like you as my servant,’ she had cried mischievously.
It seemed to him that she had learned nothing. Oh, yes, they needed this stay in Hanover.
All through February they remained there, the Princess being lodged in the Bishop’s Palace. Malmesbury suggested that she read English for several hours each day and that he and she should converse in that language, which was an excellent idea because she improved considerably. She even tried to curb those gushing displays of affection towards her attendants of which the Earl had warned her; and he grew pleased with her once more. But there was one matter which continued to worry him. This concerned personal cleanliness.