Through Lord Liverpool the Regent returned for answer that she was entirely free to go or stay; that no restraint whatever would be put upon her in that respect; that, as regarded the Rangership, on her resignation of that office, the Regent would see to its being filled up by a properly qualified person; with respect to Montague House, the daughter of the Prince Regent could never be permitted by him to reside in a house which had ever been the dwelling-place of the Princess of Wales.
This reply—the Princess’s comment on which was ‘end well, all well’—reached her at Worthing, whither, after a brief interview with her daughter, she had already repaired. She remained in the neighbourhood but a few days after she received the desired missive, and the ‘Jason’ frigate, commanded by Captain King, lay in the offing, waiting her pleasure and convenience to embark. She lingered during those few days as if reluctant, after all, to leave the land where she had not known an hour’s happiness since she had first set her foot upon its shore. She would linger on the beach at night, regardless of the admonitions of her attendants, sitting dreamily and despondingly, gazing over the waters or at the moon by which they were illumined, and once breaking from her reverie with the ejaculation: ‘Well, grief is unavailing when fate impels me.’
On the 9th of August, she for the last time appeared on Worthing beach, with Lady Charlotte Lindsey and Lady Elizabeth Forbes. It was her intention to embark from thence, but fearful of the crowd that was then collecting, she quietly withdrew to South Lancing, about two miles off, whither the captain’s barge proceeded to meet her. She was followed, however, by nearly all the persons, in carriages, mounted or on foot, whose curiosity, it may be added, was especially aroused by the appearance of a large tin-case among the luggage, on which was painted in white letters, ‘Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales, to be always with her.’ It seemed as if she for ever wished to have some mystery attached to her, or that she desired the mystification of others. Her domestics had gone on board at Worthing. On South Lancing beach she appeared dressed in ‘a dark cloth pelisse with large gold clasps, and a cap of velvet and green satin, of the Prussian hussar costume, with a green feather.’ She was, with her ladies, driven down to the beach, in a pony chaise, by her own coachman.
On taking her seat in the barge she turned round and kissed her hand to the assembled people, by way of farewell. To the mute greeting the people returned as mute reply. The ladies waved their handkerchiefs, the men uncovered. She probably construed this silent adieu as intended to denote respect and regret, and she was so overcome that she fainted on her way to the ship. On the deck she was received by Captain King, to whom one of the Regent’s brothers had previously remarked: ‘You are going to convey the Princess of Wales to the Continent. You are a great fool if you don’t make love to her.’
Greatly as her spirits were depressed at starting, their natural elasticity soon brought her round again to her ordinary condition of cheerfulness. On the 12th of August, the Regent’s birthday, as the ship was passing the Texel, a royal salute was fired, by her order, it is said, in honour of the day. The salute would, probably, have been fired without any such command. What were, without doubt, her own spontaneous acts were the birthday banquet at which she presided; the health of her husband, which she gave with a spirit that might have been taken for sincerity; and the ball at which she danced as joyously as though she had been a youthful bride being borne to the bridegroom she loved, and not a mature and child-deprived matron cast out by her husband, between whom and herself there reigned as bitter a hatred as ever raged in the bosom of any pair of mortal beings. The hatred on his part is illustrated by an anecdote which was in circulation at this unhappy period. According to this story, ‘On the evening previous to the Princess of Wales’s departure from England, the Regent had a party and made merry on the joyful occasion. It is even said that he proposed a toast: “To the Princess of Wales’s d——n, and may she never return to England!” It seems scarcely possible that any one should have allowed his tongue to utter such a horrible imprecation; but it may be believed the Regent did, so great was his aversion to his wife. Besides, he was not, probably, very well aware what he was saying at that moment.’
CHAPTER VII.
THE ERRANT ARIADNE.
The Princess arrives at Hamburgh—Assumes the title of Countess of Wolfenbüttel—Travels in Switzerland—Meeting of the Princess with the ex-Empress Maria Louisa, and the divorced wife of the Grand Duke Constantine—The Princess at Milan—Her English attendants fall off—Her reception by the Pope—At a masked ball at Naples—Her imprudence—Her festivals at Como—The Princess at Palermo—Bergami her chamberlain—The Princess at Genoa—Corresponds with Murat—Personal vanity of Queen Charlotte—The Pope visits the Princess—Surrounded by Italians—Her roving life—Proceeds to Syracuse—At Jericho—Lands at Tunis and visits the Bey—Liberates European slaves—The Princess at Athens—At Troy—At Constantinople—At Ephesus—At Acre—Stopped at Jaffa—Enters Jerusalem—Her reception by the Capuchin Friars—Institutes a new order of chivalry—Life on board the polacca—The Princess and Countess Oldi at Como—Private theatricals a favourite pastime—Agents and spies—Innocent incidents converted into crimes—Bergami divested of his knighthood—The Princess at Carlsruhe—Contemptuously neglected at Vienna—The chamberlain her only attendant—The Princess in public—Deeply affected by the death of Princess Charlotte—As uncircumspect as ever.
The early period of the travels of the Princess on the Continent calls for nothing more than simple record. She left the ‘Jason’ under all the customary honours; and when she entered Hamburgh on the 16th she dropped her English to assume a German title, that of the Countess of Wolfenbüttel. Her suite consisted of the two ladies we have already named, with Mr. St. Leger and Sir William Gell. Mr. Keppel Craven subsequently joined her at Brunswick. Dr. Holland accompanied her as physician, and Captain Hesse as equerry. Thus attended she appeared at the theatre at Hamburgh, where she was received with a storm of applause, and entered Brunswick, where she was welcomed by her brother the Duke, and with a loud-tongued cordiality by the inhabitants.
The reception touched her, but not deeply enough to induce her to profit by it. Within a fortnight she brushed the tears from her eyes, left Brunswick behind her, and was on the high-road of Europe, as self-willed and as obstinate a Princess as ever destroyed a reputation and rushed blindfold upon ruin.
She now travelled under the appellation of Countess of Cornwall, and had one English gentleman less in her train, Mr. St Leger having withdrawn from the honour of waiting on her at Brunswick. The time had not yet arrived when the mot d’ordre had been given to treat her with disrespect. The governors of German cities were courteous to her as she passed, and the Marshal Duke de Valmy, with all the authorities of Strasburg, offered her the expression of their homage when she traversed that portion of France. After spending the greater portion of September in a tour through Switzerland, she finally sojourned for a while at Geneva, where she met with the ex-Empress of France, Maria Louisa, and became for a time on intimate terms with an imperial lady who, like herself, was separated from her husband. Like her, she was stripped of her old dignity, and, like her, she was accompanied by a young boy. But those boys were not more different in their rank than the two women were in their position, similar as this was in many respects. The boys were Napoleon Francis, ex-King of Rome, and William Austin, son of the Blackheath labourer.