Stories of her incredible behaviour were carried to England and the Prince Regent listened to them avidly.
If only it were possible to rid himself of this woman how happy he would be!
Every tale he heard of her was a humiliation.
That most glorious of victories, Waterloo, was being celebrated. They realized at home what this meant. The name of Waterloo would resound through the world for centuries to come; and it was his great general who had achieved it. It was Wellington’s victory. The church bells rang out; the guns boomed forth. It was a victory to set beside Trafalgar and Agincourt.
It was a glorious time; and yet he, the Regent, was pestered by his family.
There was intransigent Charlotte who caused him much anxiety by her refusal to obey him; but he could manage Charlotte; and at least she was pleasant to look at.
But Caroline! That loathsome creature to whom they had married him. The First Gentleman of Europe, the most elegant and fastidious of gentlemen to be married to that vulgar creature!
But for her, he could marry again and get a son. Ha, that would put Charlotte’s nose out of joint. The arrogant young woman never forgot that Crown she saw in her future. She was already seeing herself mounting the throne, which was unfeeling of her, for how could she until he was dead?
If he could rid himself of Caroline— Good God, should it be so difficult? The Delicate Investigation had been a near thing. He might have managed it then. But now she was roaming about the Continent, causing scandal wherever she went.
There was fresh news brought to him by his spies. One of the members of her suite had left her because Caroline was planning a trip to the East and this young man, William Burrell, who was a son of Lord Gwydir, had arrived at Brussels.
There he met the Duke of Cumberland; but the important factor was that Burrell’s servants had chattered to those of the Duke who had reported to their master.
Cumberland had lost no time when he returned in telling the Prince Regent that he wanted to know.
Something must be done. The manner in which Caroline was behaving with this Italian chamberlain of hers and the way she conducted herself generally must surely supply the evidence he needed. His spies were not working hard enough.
There was Quentin, for instance, who had allowed himself to be discovered and this incident had naturally warned the guilty ones. Many people had left her suite; men like Hesse, Gell and Craven. Why? Were they afraid of being implicated?
The Prince sent for Lord Castlereagh and told him that he expected action.
‘What do you propose?’ he demanded. ‘These people who are supposed to be working for us give us nothing but gossip. I want proof.’
‘I think, sir,’ said Castlereagh, ‘that we should appoint a man of some standing to work for us. What we need is absolute proof and someone who actually witnesses misconduct. For that we will need someone who is skilled and able to win the Princess’s confidence. I suggest that I get in touch secretly with our ambassador in Vienna. If Your Highness will give me leave to write to him— strictly confidentially, I think he will know the man whom we should appoint to act as our agent.’
‘Let it be done with all speed,’ said the Prince Regent.
Lord Castlereagh wrote to Lord Stewart and headed his letter Most private and secret. He must appoint a man whom he thought fit to do this service and this agent must be able to give eye-witness proof. English witnesses would be preferred but it would be better not to involve anyone in the Regent’s service. The aim was to enable the Prince Regent to be free of a woman who had no decency and was quite unworthy to be his wife. It would be understood that as the object of the evidence would be to justify a divorce, the proofs must be direct and unequivocal.
When Lord Stewart received this communication he studied it very carefully and cast about in his mind for the person who would be able to perform this very delicate duty.
At last he decided on the Baron Frederick d’Ompteda, the Hanoverian envoy to the Pontifical Court.
He wrote to him commanding his presence immediately and when the Baron arrived, acquainted him with what was expected of him.
‘You understand,’ said Lord Stewart. ‘We must have evidence and witnesses of the misconduct of the Princess of Wales. It should not be difficult to obtain in view of the reports we are receiving.’
The Baron replied that he would do his best.
‘It is what the Prince Regent expects,’ replied Lord Stewart.
The Baron took his leave and set out for Rome.
Caroline had arrived at Como where she decided to settle for, a short time while she and Pergami put their heads together, as she said, and planned a tour of the East.
An Italian countess had a charming house to sell on the lake and when Caroline saw it she decided to buy it and make alterations so that it would be a mansion worthy of a princess. Together she and Pergami planned the alterations; and in a short time it had been greatly enlarged, avenues had been planted and as Caroline said, it was indeed her. house. She named it the Villa d’Este.
‘For,’ she explained to Pergami, ‘I am descended from that noble family.’
While she was in Rome waiting for the Villa d’Este to be made ready for her occupation, she received a letter from the Hanoverian minister, Count von Münster.
‘He is the son of my old governess,’ she told the maids who were attending to her as she read the letter. One of these was Annette, a rather flighty girl who spent a great time flirting with the male members of the household, and the other was Louise Demont who was of a more serious turn of mind. ‘Ah, what a life I used to lead the old lady! I’m afraid I was a very naughty girl. The tricks I got up to!
They would surprise you if I were to tell you.’
Louise said demurely that nothing Her Highness told them would surprise them, which amused the Princess.
‘You don’t know, you cannot imagine,’ she declared. ‘Ah, poor Countess von Münster! And this is her son writing to me. He’s a very important person now in Hanover and he is telling me that Baron Frederick d’Ompteda will be calling on me and he hopes I will receive him. The Baron is the Hanoverian envoy to the Pontifical Court. Well, we must make him welcome, mustn’t we? You have been to tell the Baron Pergami that I wish to see him?’
‘Madam, shall we wait until you are dressed?’
‘No, no, no! Send him now. He can assist at the dressing, it will not be the first time.’
When the Baron Pergami arrived, the two girls left him alone with the Princess.
‘What a strange way to behave,’ said Louise primly. ‘I am not surprised that there are all these rumours.’
‘Are there rumours?’ asked Annette.
‘Have you not heard of them?’
Annette shook her head. She had little time to listen to rumours; her great concern was with a young German who had recently joined the household.
Maurice Credé was very attractive and she was sure he had noticed her.
‘My dear Baron,’ cried the Princess, ‘how good of you to call! My good friend the Count von Münster told me that you would be coming. I trust that you will be frequently with us. We are delighted to have you.’
The Baron bowed and told her she was very gracious and she would find that he would take advantage of her goodness.
‘Anyone recommended by the Count von Münster will be well received here.
Pray sit down and tell me about yourself. I doubt there is any need for me to tell you about myself. You will have heard stories about me and my goings on.’
She broke into loud laughter.
It shouldn’t be difficult, thought d’Ompteda. One only had to look at her and one could well believe all the stories one heard of her. The loose revealing gowns, the painted face, the over-heavy wig, her very manner of sitting so slovenly, somehow suggested immorality. It would be an easy case to prove, this one.