“Mon Dieu! cela n’empêche pas.”
What can one say of a man and wife who talked thus over a death bed?
The Queen was thought to be dying that day, but she lingered on. On Monday morning, Sir Robert Walpole arrived post haste from Houghton; he had only heard of the Queen’s illness on the previous day owing to the Duke of Newcastle’s neglect in sending the messenger round to the Duke of Grafton first.
All Sir Robert’s enemies seemed to have concluded that his power would wane, when the Queen, his patroness and friend, was dead; they did their best to keep him from her at the last. But he arrived long before the Queen died, and one of his first remarks on the situation to Lord Hervey was the following: “Oh, my Lord!” cried Sir Robert, greatly distressed, “if this woman should die what a scene of confusion will here be! Who can tell into what hands the King will fall? or who will have the management of him? I defy the ablest person in this kingdom to foresee what will be the consequence of this great event.”
There was a particularly scandalous rumour prevalent at the Court during this sad time concerning the Prince, which emanated, as usual, from Lord Hervey, who said he heard it from the Duke of Marlborough through one of his—Lord Hervey’s—particular friends, Harry Fox.
The rumour was that the Prince used to sit up half the night at Carlton House, sending messengers continually to the Palace to make enquiries, and eagerly awaiting his mother’s death with remarks like the following:—
“Well, sure, we shall soon have good news; she cannot hold out much longer!”
It may be said at once that Mr. Hamilton, one of the Prince’s Household, contradicted these reports immediately he heard them, and added that the Prince was in the greatest concern for his mother, which seems by far the more natural and likely state for him to be in.
He was irritated, there can be no doubt, and no wonder at it; the very fact of his being excluded, not only from his mother’s death bed, but from the Palace itself, and every one belonging to his household as well, was calculated to fill him with the bitterest thoughts. The contemplation of the fact that all her other children were there, and that Lord Hervey, his bitterest enemy, was occupying his place by his mother’s pillow, was not likely to bring much calm to his feelings. The only wonder is that he did not insist upon forcing himself into her room.
When Lady Archibald Hamilton was consulted as to the above rumours concerning the Prince’s behaviour, her answer was, “he is very decent.”