Lady Liverpool wrote a courteous answer, but which, in one respect, was unsatisfactory, as it implied that my justification depended on Princess Charlotte’s conduct, whereas I endeavoured to prove that the want of support I had experienced, contrary to all promises made me, rendered it not only difficult, but even impossible, to be of any other use than what Princess Charlotte’s confidence and good nature might allow. I showed her my letter before I sent it, and afterwards the answer.[[147]]
Miss Mercer came about this time to stay two or three days at Windsor, on a visit to Princess Charlotte; but not having leave to sleep in the house, I got a room for her at Mrs. Hallam’s, who was absent. She was evidently annoyed at my having written to Lady Liverpool, her friend Lady Bathurst and Lady L. being dear friends and great enemies—at least, according to Miss Mercer’s representations; and perhaps it was really the case, but I felt I had done right, and I told Princess Charlotte there was no dependence to be placed on any of these people, hinting to her that most probably their only reason for paying court to Miss Mercer was to make her useful, and that everybody said the consent for her Royal Highness seeing Miss Mercer again had only been given to detach her from the Princess of Wales. Of course Princess Charlotte repeated this to Miss Mercer, and the effect it had was to make that young lady particularly attentive to me. She wrote to me after her departure in the most confidential and flattering manner, particularly explaining a circumstance in which it appeared that the Princess of Wales had acted very imprudently with respect to Princess Charlotte, and in which she (Miss M.) interposed in the properest manner. I was pleased with this, and from that time Miss Mercer and I were on the best terms, and, as I thought, in common with her Royal Highness, treated every subject in the most confidential manner.
The Prince Regent’s birthday, 12th August, was kept at the new Military College at Sandhurst, where the Queen was to present new colours to the Cadet Battalion. All the Royal Family, the ministers and their wives, and a few others, were present. The Bishop of Salisbury had previously consecrated the chapel, and Sir Alexander Hope,[[148]] whose heart seemed quite devoted to this interesting colony, was all attention and propriety. His sister, the Dowager Lady Melville, lately appointed one of the Ladies of the Bedchamber to the Queen, assisted Lady Hope in doing the honours; as did the sister of the latter, Lady Hampden. The Prince did not speak to Princess Charlotte, the Duchess, or me, but looked as if he wished to annihilate us. However, the day in other respects passed very well, and the establishment was highly deserving of praise. The Royal Family dined in the house, the rest of the company under tents in the garden, and in the evening there was a little dance of five or six couples, promoted by the Duke of Clarence. The day had been remarkably hot, and the evening was a beautiful moonlight. When the Queen was about to depart, the Prince Regent was not to be found, and we afterwards learned that he, with the Duke of York, Prince of Orange (the father),[[149]] and many others, were under the table. The Duke of York hurt his head very seriously against a wine cellaret. In short, it was a sad business. We went home very quietly in an open carriage by the lovely moonlight.
On the 16th, the Duke of York’s birthday, arrived the hereditary Prince of Orange with the account of a great victory gained by Lord Wellington over the French army, commanded by Soult. A large party dined that day at Frogmore, of whom I was one, and we expected to see the hereditary Prince, but the Regent did not bring him. The Regent was in no better humour than on the 12th, but Lord Yarmouth paid great court to the Princess Charlotte, to the Duchess, and to me. The Prince Regent would not come to see the Princess Charlotte at the Lower Lodge, and gave, as an excuse, that he could not bear to see those d—— ladies, meaning the Duchess and myself—so, at least, we were told. Had I been the Duchess I think I should have resigned; but perhaps not, as I thought this species of conduct, without any real ground, was possibly meant to force us to this step by making our lives disagreeable. I told Sir H. Halford so, and he asserted the contrary.
Soon afterwards, we had an invitation to dine at Lord Liverpool’s, at Coombe Wood, to meet the Queen and Princesses. Lady Liverpool sent the invitation to the Duchess, and next morning I received a private letter from her, mentioning the company we were to meet, and particularly all the young ladies, who, she hoped, might be pleasant society for Princess Charlotte, recommending to my notice a young person, a relation of hers, whose timidity would require support. The Oranges were not mentioned, neither was it said at the Castle that they were to be there; but Princess Charlotte had private information to that effect, and, I believe, it was to have been so. On which account her Royal Highness availed herself of the excuse of not being well, put on a blister a day sooner than she had intended, and did not go.
I was sorry for this, because, if it was a trick, it was one easily foiled by dignity of conduct; and I was more sorry for her Royal Highness’s going very soon after to the Egham races, though she was not well enough to do more than sit in her carriage. Her mind was worried, she had a pain in her side, and her health always suffered from the climate and water of Windsor, as well as the constant worry.
Sir H. Halford was at this time continually at the lodge, a great favourite of the Duchess, and constantly charged with messages from the Castle. One of his affairs there was to negotiate a marriage between the Duke of Brunswick and Princess Mary, of which it was to be understood the latter knew nothing. Poor Princess Charlotte was most willing to do all she could to persuade her uncle[[150]] to this step, but it would not do, and, I dare say, was never forgiven by the Prince, if he knew it; which most probably he did. For neither Princess Mary nor Sir H. Halford would have ventured without being sure of his approbation, and the subsequent conduct of the Prince Regent to the Duke manifestly proved his displeasure. Hints were given with great caution of wishes in favour of the Prince of Orange, but Princess Charlotte had shown so great a dislike to that business, that nothing was said openly.
At last, in consequence of a confidential conversation between Princess Charlotte and Princess Mary, I found the latter had warmly recommended marriage to the former, and next evening there was a long interview with Sir Henry; after which Princess Charlotte told me she had brought him round with respect to one person. I could not guess whom she meant, but thought it might be the Duke of Kent. She said, “No, it was the Duke of Gloucester;” and in the evening she told me that they all wanted her to marry, and that she saw they wished for the hereditary Prince of Orange, but that she would never marry him,[[151]] and had told Sir Henry that the Duke of Gloucester was the most eligible person, and the one she would prefer.
I felt rather hurt that she should have committed herself in this manner, more particularly as I was sure she had no partiality whatever for the Duke; but I answered that it certainly was a marriage which in the eye of reason could not be disapproved, but that I was convinced neither the Regent nor any of the family would hear of it, the Duke’s politics being a sufficient bar, added to the want of birth on his mother’s side. Besides, I could not help reminding her of the difference of age, and, I added, I never saw anything to make me believe she liked him. Princess Charlotte answered that all this was perfectly true, but that she could never expect to marry from inclination, and that the Duke’s character and temper were so good that she might reasonably look forward to being treated with kindness, and to see her husband esteemed by the nation.
In all this I heartily concurred, but still I felt exceedingly surprised at her having started it so suddenly, and augured nothing good from the proceeding. I expressed my astonishment to Sir Henry, and, at the same time, my total ignorance of the measure until it had taken place. When Sir Henry returned next time from town, he said that the Prince had taken it more calmly than he had expected, and that he would come very soon to Windsor and talk it over with Princess Charlotte, but that he could not give hope that the result would be favourable. I begged only that the Prince would see his daughter at the Lower Lodge, as she always felt hurt at being only sent for to the Castle for the purpose of seeing him in her aunt’s room.