We have been induced to dwell somewhat minutely upon this singular negotiation, because its details have never yet been placed with sufficient clearness before the public. We are now, for the first time, admitted, through the medium of the Malmesbury papers, to a sight of the hidden machinery, by means of which the colossal panorama of Europe was made so ominously to revolve. Much is there, too, of importance, and useful for the future, in the portraitures of national bad faith and individual worthlessness which appear throughout the whole transaction. Prussia was fortunate in her subsequent miseries. These, and these alone, have made the pen of the historian, and the tongue of the orator, slow to denounce the enormous measure of her perfidy. Throughout the whole of this negotiation, on the result of which the destinies of Europe for a quarter of a century were doomed to depend, there is not one single bright spot of candour or of honesty to relieve the darkness of the picture. In comparison with such treachery, Pennsylvanian repudiation is venial. The subsidy, out of which England was swindled, was for the most part applied to the further subjugation of Poland—the troops, for which she had contracted and paid, were used as an impediment to, and not in furtherance of, her designs. The language employed by the Prussian minister, Hardenberg, at his last interview with Lord Malmesbury, was that of a sturdy freebooter, who, far from seeking to conceal his real character, takes glory in his shame, and demands a compulsory tribute for what he is pleased to denominate protection. It may be said that Prussia afterwards redeemed her error. We cannot see it. To the last she remained a gripping, faithless, avaricious power; and could she have coexisted equal with France, there is not a shadow of a doubt that she would have surpassed that country in her appetite for acquiring plunder. In 1806, under a different monarch, she made peace with Napoleon on the condition of acquiring Hanover, the hereditary dominions of the occupant of the British throne. It was only when the fact became evident that she was utterly mistrusted throughout Europe; that no state, even the most insignificant, could place any reliance upon her assurances; when, through her own conduct, France made no scruple of using her as a contemptible tool, and her old allies regarded her with looks of menace—that Prussia made a virtue of necessity by attempting to restore her independence. Even then her repentance was incomplete. Lord Morpeth, when sent, before the disastrous battle of Jena, on a special mission to the Prussian headquarters, found Frederick William III. so distracted between the option of a British subsidy on the one hand, and the cession of Hanover on the other, that, with the genuine feelings of an Englishman and a man of honour, he could scarce restrain his indignation in the presence of the vacillating king. In our mind, the videttes of Pichegru's army had a truer estimate than our own cabinet of the value of such an alliance, when they thus expressed themselves at the outposts:—"Englishmen, go home: you have no business here; you are too honest to be leagued with the Austrians and Prussians. They will soon leave you in the lurch; and as to the Hessians, the Landgrave will turn them all over to us to-morrow, if the Convention offers him a ducat a-day more than you now pay him!" Yet Austria is not chargeable with deceit—who will dare hereafter to say the like for Prussia?
Lord Malmesbury did not return immediately to England. At Hanover he received another mark of the confidence of his royal master, in a commission to demand the Princess Caroline of Brunswick in marriage for the Prince of Wales. This mission was conferred upon him directly by the king, and no discretionary power was given to offer information or advice either to the court or the government. It does not appear that the subject was ever mentioned to Lord Malmesbury before his credentials arrived; certain it is that he had no communication with the person most deeply interested in the alliance, and therefore no means of ascertaining his wishes or his motives. The Prince of Wales had never seen his cousin. Probably, beyond the false impression conveyed by a portrait, he knew nothing of her; for the little court of Brunswick was rarely visited by the English, and the military occupations of the Duke kept him almost constantly from home. It must ever be matter of deep regret that more prudence was not employed in the conduct of this unhappy business. Royal marriages are at best precarious; for there is too often a larger ingredient of policy than of affection in the alliance. This one needed not to have been a matter of policy. Neither the illustrious bridegroom, nor the kingdoms over which he was afterwards to rule, could derive any advantage from a more intimate connexion with the diminutive state of Brunswick. It is, therefore, almost incomprehensible that no precautions were taken, and no investigations made, before the prince was finally committed. Surely some one might have been found worthy to play the part of a Buckingham to the successor of Charles—some intimate of the prince, who, acquainted with his tastes and inclinations, might have visited Brunswick as a stranger, and, without betraying the actual nature of his mission, might have acquired a sufficient knowledge of the manners and character of the princess to frame an adequate report. Common prudence should have suggested this; but there is too much reason to fear that the match was the result of motives little creditable to other members of the royal family of England, and was not expected by them to secure the ultimate happiness of either party. This, at least, was the opinion of Lord Malmesbury, a shrewd observer, and well versed in the domestic politics of St James's. He says—"She (the princess) talks about the Duke of Clarence, whom she prefers to the Duke of York, and it struck me to-day, for the first time, that he originally put her into the prince's head; and that with a view to plague the Duke and Duchess of York, whom he hates, and whom the prince no longer likes, well knowing that the Princess Caroline and Duchess of York dislike each other; and that this match would be particularly unpleasant to her and the duke." Again, "Princess Caroline asks about the Duke of Clarence—says she believes he was the person who first mentioned her to the prince.—N.B. My own private ideas and feelings on this remark."
Endowed by nature with a good heart and some quickness of apprehension, this princess was as uneligible a personage as could possibly have been selected for so high a dignity as that of consort to the future king of Great Britain. Her education had been wretchedly neglected. She was vain, giddy, and imprudent; addicted to the society of persons infinitely beneath her rank, whom she treated with unbecoming familiarity; totally ignorant of the world and its usages, and withal something of a bavarde. She stood in awe of her father, who was an austere person, and, it is said, treated his children habitually with much severity. For her mother she had no respect, and did not scruple, when she could find an opportunity—which occurred but too often—to turn her into ridicule. Her conversation was that of a thorough gossip—her manners those of a flirt. She was disposed to be liberal, not from generosity, but from absolute carelessness—a fault which she extended to her person. Lord Malmesbury's first impressions of her are by far the most favourable; and yet it will be seen from these, that mediocrity was the utmost limit of her charms. "The Princess Caroline much embarrassed on my first being presented to her—pretty face—not expressive of softness—her figure not graceful—fine eyes—good hand—tolerable teeth, but going—fair hair and light eyebrows—good bust—short, with what the French call des épaules impertinentes." Her personal habits may be gathered from the following passages of the Diary:—
"Argument with the Princess about her toilette. She piques herself on dressing quick; I disapprove this. She maintains her point; I, however, desire Madame Busche to explain to her that the Prince is very delicate, and that he expects a long and very careful toilette de properté, of which she has no idea; on the contrary, she neglects it sadly, and is offensive from this neglect. Madame Busche executes her commission well, and the Princess comes out the next day well washed all over."
"Princess Caroline had a tooth drawn—she sends it down to me by a page—nasty and indelicate."
"I had two conversations with the Princess Caroline; one on the toilette, on cleanliness, and on delicacy of speaking. On these points I endeavoured, as far as was possible for a man, to inculcate the necessity of great and nice attention to every part of dress, as well as to what was hid as to what was seen. (I knew she wore coarse petticoats, coarse shifts, and thread stockings, and these never well washed, or changed often enough.) I observed that a long toilette was necessary, and gave her no credit for boasting that hers was a short one. What I could not say myself on this point, I got said through women; through Madame Busche, and afterwards through Mrs Harcourt. It is remarkable how amazingly on this point her education has been neglected, and how much her mother, though an Englishwoman, was inattentive to it."
Such were the personal habits of the future Queen of England, who, in this normal virtue, fell infinitely beneath the level of a daughter of a British tradesman. It is plain that Lord Malmesbury has left much unsaid; but enough there is to show that, in every way, she was unfitted to be the wife of the most fastidious prince in Europe. In point of morals, the examples afforded her at the court of Brunswick were of the worst possible description. Conjugal fidelity seems to have been a virtue totally unknown to the German sovereigns. The following, according to Lord Malmesbury, were the existing liaisons of Frederick William of Prussia. "The female in actual possession of favour is of no higher degree than a servant-maid. She is known by the name of Mickie, or Mary Doz, and her principal merit is youth and a warm constitution. She has acquired a certain degree of ascendancy, and is supported by some of the inferior class of favourites; but as she is considered as holding her office only during pleasure, she is not courted, though far from neglected, by the persons of a higher rank. The two candidates for a more substantial degree of favour are Mdlle. Vienk and Mdlle. Bethman." Of the Emperor Leopold we are told the following anecdote:—"Kinckel said that Bishopswerder told him, that Lord Elgin, when in Italy, would have succeeded in making a triple alliance for the purpose of general peace and tranquillity, when he was with the Emperor Leopold at Florence, if he had not run too much after Madame Lamberti, (Leopold's mistress,) and by that means displeased and soured him." The father of the Princess was not one whit better than his royal brethren. His mistress, Mdlle. de Hertzfeldt, lived at court, and was on intimate terms with the rest of the family. She appears to have been a clever woman, and well acquainted with the character of the Princess. Lord Malmesbury, who had known her formerly, made no scruple of applying to her for information. "In the evening with Mdlle. de Hertzfeldt—old Berlin acquaintance, now Duke's mistress—much altered, but still clever and agreeable—full of lamentations and fears—says the Duke has been cruelly used—abuses the king of Prussia—she always thought him a bête, and not a bonne bête—talks of the Illuminés and their sects—her apartment elegantly furnished, and she herself with all the appareil of her situation. She was at first rather ashamed to see me, but soon got over it." Her advice regarding the future treatment of the Princess is so interesting that we give it entire.
"Je vous conjure, faites que le prince fasse mener, au commencement, une vie retirée à la Princesse. Elle a toujours été très genée et très observée, et il le falloit ainsi. Si elle se trouve tout à coup dans le monde sans restriction aucune, elle ne marchera pas à pas égaux. Elle n'a pas le cœur depravé—elle n'a jamais rien fait de mauvais, mais la parole en elle devance toujours la pensée; elle se livre à ceux a qui elle parle sans reserve, et de là il s'ensuit (même dans cette petite cour) qu'on lui prête des sens et des intentions que ne lui ont jamais appartenus. Que ne sera-t-il pas en Angleterre—où elle sera entourée de femmes adroites et intriguantes, auxquelles elle se livrera á corps perdu, (si le Prince permet qu'elle mène la vie dissipée de Londres,) et qui placeront dans sa bouche tels propos qu'elles voudront, puisqu'elle parlera elle-même sans savoir ce qu'elle dit. De plus, elle a beaucoup de vanité, et quoique pas sans esprit, avec peu de fond—la tête lui tournera si on la caresse et la flatte trop, si le Prince la gâte; et il est tout aussi essentiel qu'elle le craigne que qu'elle l'aime. Il faut absolument qu'il la tienne serrée, qu'il se fasse respecter, sans quoi, elle s'égarera. Je sais que vous ne me comprometterez pas—je vous parle comme à mon vieux ami. Je suis attachée cœur et âme au Duc. Je me suis dévouée a lui, je me suis perdue pour lui. C'est le bien de sa famille que je veux. Il sera le plus malheureux des hommes si cette fille ne reussit pas mieux que son aînée. Je vous repète, elle n'a jamais rien fait de mauvais, mais elle est sans jugement, et on l'a jugée à l'avenant. Je crains la Reine. La Duchesse ici, qui passe sa vie à penser tout haut, ou à ne jamais penser de tout, n'aime pas la Reine, et elle en a trop parlé à sa fille. Cependant, son bonheur depend d'être bien avec elle, et, pour Dieu, repetez lui toujours cette maxime, que vous avez déjà plus d'une fois recommandée."
The education of the Princess had been most lamentably neglected.
"Letter from the Prince—well satisfied, and approves of what I have done—positively refuses to let Mademoiselle Rosenzweit come over. She was to be a sort of reader. King writes on the subject to the Duchess; both she and the Duke press it. I insist upon it, and it is settled that she is not to accompany the Princess. Duke takes me aside, and says that the only reason why he wished her to be with the Princess was, that his daughter writes very ill, and spells ill, and he was desirous that this should not appear. Affected to be indifferent about this refusal, but at bottom hurt and angry. Suspects the Queen, whom he and the duchess hate."