CHAPTER XVII.

A NEW FAVOURITE AND A SETTLEMENT.

The King and Queen in the jubilation of their victory over the Prince

of Wales had a mind to celebrate it by turning him and his young wife

out of St. James’s Palace, but they were dissuaded from this benevolent

intention by the judicious Sir Robert Walpole. Instead the Prince

retained his position--though no doubt he would have much preferred a

house of his own--but the state of affairs under these circumstances

must have reached the limit of painfulness to the young Princess and

her husband.

Each night “he led the Queen by the hand to dinner,” says Doran, “and

she could have stabbed him on the way; for her wrath was more bitter

than ever against him, for the reason that he had introduced her name,

through his friends, in the Parliamentary debate.”

This referred presumably to his mention of the fact that he had told

his mother of his embarrassments.

The Prince still attended his father’s levees occasionally, but the

King never acknowledged his presence in any way whatever. Very soon,

however, at the conclusion of the session of Parliament, the Court

moved to Richmond, and there the little King, now quite restored to

health, distinguished this year 1737 by another gracious act; he took

still another mistress. This time the object of his Royal selection was

the children’s governess, Lady Deloraine.

The lady in question was Mary Howard--the King seemed to favour the

name of Howard in his amours--of the Suffolk family, who had married

Henry Scott, first Earl of Deloraine; but at this period he was dead

and she had remarried William Wyndham, Esq., of Cassham.

She was an extremely pretty woman, but celebrated for the looseness of

her talk in that age of looseness. She was not a woman of much brain

power, and a fair estimate of her character may be formed from the

following incident.

Sir Robert Walpole came across her one day in the Hall at Richmond

while she was dangling her little boy of about twelve months in her

arms, and made the following characteristic remark--“That’s a very

pretty boy, Lady Deloraine, whose is it?” Her ladyship, nothing

abashed, took the enquiry in the spirit in which it was offered, and

replied before a group of people--“Mr. Wyndham’s, upon honour;” and

then laughingly continued, “but I will not promise whose the next shall

be!”

Continuing the discourse later in private with Sir Robert Walpole, she

pretended that she had not yet yielded to the King’s importunities,

and remarked that “she was not of an age to act like a vain or a

loving fool, but if she did consent she would be well paid.” She added

naively to Sir Robert--who himself had a mistress, the well known Miss

Skerrett, whom he adored and afterwards married--“nothing but interest

should bribe her; for as to love she had enough of that, as well as

a younger man at home; and that she thought old men and Kings ought

always to be made to pay well!” Her empty head and want of morals led

her to boast freely at this time; she confided in the well known Lady

Sundon, with whom she had a very slight acquaintance, that the King

had been very importunate these two years, and had often told her how

unkind she was to refuse him, that it was mere crossness, for that he

was sure her husband (Mr. Wyndham, who was sub-governor to the Duke of

Cumberland) would not take it at all ill.

She made a similar communication to Lord Hervey, abruptly one day at

Richmond, at this time before a room full of people: “Do you know the

King has been in love with me these two years?” she queried.

At which Lord Hervey, rather taken aback, answered, to turn the

conversation, “Who is not in love with you?”

He himself certainly was not, for this is how he sums her up in his

Memoirs:

“Her Ladyship was one of the vainest as well as one of the simplest

women that ever lived; but to this wretched head there was certainly

joined one of the prettiest faces that ever was formed, which, though

she was now five and thirty,[43] had a bloom upon it too, that not

one woman in ten thousand has at fifteen.” This was Horace Walpole’s

opinion of Lady Deloraine: “A pretty idiot, with most of the vices of

her own sex, and the additional one of ours--drinking.

“Yet this thing of convenience on the arrival of Lady Yarmouth, Madame

Walmoden, put on all that dignity of passion, which even revolts real

inclination.”

Lady Deloraine, however, went on her way rejoicing at this time, and as

the summer wore on and the King showed no signs of returning to Hanover

and Madame de Walmoden, openly boasted that she was keeping him in

England.

She did not, however, appear to derive much substantial profit from her

position, as the following incident, related by Sir Robert Walpole to

the Queen, will show; neither had the King forgotten Madame de Walmoden.

George had ordered Walpole one day to buy one hundred lottery tickets,

and to charge the amount, £1,000, to the Secret Service Fund, an

atrocious robbery of the public!

Walpole, having carried out his commission without a murmur, confided

the transaction to Lord Hervey, mentioning that it was for the King’s

favourite.

Hervey, thinking he meant Lady Deloraine, commented: “I did not think

he went so deep there,” referring to the amount.

“No,” Walpole corrected, “I mean the Hanover woman. You are right to

imagine that he does not go so deep to his lying fool here. He will

give her a couple of the tickets and think her generously used.”

By which it seems that the King’s German women had by far the better

knack of getting money out of him than the English favourites.

But Walpole’s sagacity had, just previous to this, at the end of the

Parliamentary Session, brought the question of the Prince of Wales’s

income adroitly into something of a settlement. He had with the

greatest difficulty induced the King and Queen to agree to a settlement

of the £50,000 a year mentioned in the King’s celebrated message to

the Prince, and the difficulty of the other £50,000 a year claimed by

Frederick was got over by Parliament being persuaded to settle an extra

large jointure on the Princess of Wales, £50,000 a year in fact. So the

parsimonious little King got out of paying it after all.

FOOTNOTES:

[43] She was thirty-seven at this time, having been born in 1700.

A forgotten Prince of Wales · 第 17 / 30 章