‘It is all settled. I have made up my mind.’
‘And you feel as calm as you look?’
‘I have accepted the fact that it must be this one or no one. Him I can tolerate; no one would be . . . unbearable.’
Amelia laughed. ‘You are ruled by your royal dignity, sister. You accept Orange only because he is a husband.’
‘He is a Prince too.’
‘That’s well enough but have you heard the rumours?’
‘I have known all the time that he was not ... handsome.’
‘They say he is one of the most ugly men in the world ... in fact so ugly as to be scarcely a man.’
‘I have told Papa that I would marry him if he were a baboon, so I am prepared for the worst.’
‘You will not be forced, you know.’
‘I know that well.’
‘And you can face marriage with a ... baboon?’
‘I have no intention of remaining unmarried, Amelia.’
Anne rose and, in spite of her rather dumpy figure which already showed signs that she had inherited their mother’s tendency to fat, she looked very regal.
‘It’s your choice,’ said Amelia, shrugging. ‘He will be coming here soon. Then we shall see if the rumours have lied.’
‘At least we are prepared for the worst,’ said Anne.
‘You will want to be alone I dare say to compose yourself.’
‘Nonsense. I have asked some of my friends from the Opera House to come here. We are going to sing together.’
Amelia stared in astonishment at her sister. It was really true that she was unperturbed.
‘My Lord Hervey,’ said the Queen, her eyes aglow, ‘come and tell me what you found at Somerset House.’
‘Your Majesty should not be too downhearted.’
‘But a little you mean?’
‘Well, your son-in-law is not beautiful.’
‘Pray, Lord Hervey, tell me the worst.’
‘He is hunchbacked.’
‘Slightly or …’
‘More than slightly, Your Majesty. He stoops so much that seen from behind he would appear to have no head.’
‘My God!’
‘But his manners are pleasing.’
‘And you are seeking to please me.’
As always, Madam.’
‘But I asked you for the truth and you do not please me by withholding it.’
‘Then I will say this. He is hideous, as hideous as he is rumoured to be, but he has princely manners and his con- duct is such that, knowing oneself to be in the presence of a Prince, one’s mind is taken off his appearance.’
‘My poor Anne! ‘
‘Your Majesty has been goodness itself and the Princess has freely chosen this marriage.’
‘It is true, but I suffer for her, my lord. You bring me very small comfort, but I’d rather that than lies.’
Hervey replied that beauty, ugliness, sorrow, all these were the greater or the smaller according to the manner in which they were observed. The Princess Anne wanted a husband and she was to have one. He was not beautiful, but he was at least a husband and the Princess had made it clear that she wanted any royal husband rather than none or one who could claim no royalty. In view of this the Queen should not grieve and she would see that the bridegroom was not half as black as he had been painted.
Such comfort, thought the Queen, talking to dear Lord Hervey.
But she was filled with apprehension even when passing to her drawing room she heard the sounds of singing coming from her daughter’s apartments.
When the Prince of Orange left Somerset House for St James’s the streets were crowded with people who had come out to cheer him.
Dressed in robes of state his deformity was partly concealed; and although he was extremely ill-favoured he showed his approval of the people who cheered him wildly. They were sorry for him. They knew that the King had treated him without respect. This was obvious, for the only equipage the King had sent for him was one coach with a pair of horses and two footmen—a very poor display for a royal bridegroom.
The King was irritable every time the marriage was mentioned because he hated the thought of his daughter marrying what he called a baboon. He had been hoping that. Anne would refuse the match; but since she had set her heart upon it and Walpole wished her to marry and so did the nation, what could he do but show his lack of liking for the bridegroom.
However, this neglect endeared the people to Orange.
Their King was a German without manners; they hated him; and they were going to make up with their cheers what the King had denied him.
All about the Palace people had thronged to get a sight of the bridegroom and having heard such rumours of his terrible appearance they were pleasantly surprised. ‘He is like a monkey,’ had been said. ‘He has a tail. An offensive odour comes from his person. He is an animal really ... a monster from birth. He stoops double. He crawls on all fours....’ Nothing had been too wild to say about the Prince of Orange. Now here he was, extremely deformed, with a face which could only be called ugly, but he walked on two legs; his stoop was not so obvious when he was seated; his robes of state concealed his hump.
And his manners were courteous and even modest. ‘Well,’ said the onlookers, ‘he is not a monkey. He is at least a man.’
Moreover, he was the Prince of Orange and a Protestant. And a royal marriage meant feasting and revelry and it was time they had a royal marriage in the family.
So: Hurrah for the Prince of Orange!
When the Queen saw him her heart sank with dismay. Oh, my God, she thought, my daughter to marry this ... monster!
The King received him coldly, thinking it beneath his dignity to show cordiality to a minor Prince who should be extremely grateful to be allowed to marry the Princess Royal.
And he was thinking: If Anne takes one look at him and decides against him, back to Holland he shall go.
But Anne was smiling graciously, accepting him cheerfully—and of course regally.
One would have thought that he was the most handsome Prince on Earth.
Now there was no talk of anything but the royal marriage which was to take place immediately.
It was true that some of Orange’s supporters were disgruntled and expressed dismay at the lack of respect which was accorded their Prince, but Orange himself gave no sign that he noticed any lack of cordiality.
In fact his manners were the one thing about him which endeared him to the Queen.
‘At least,’ she said to Hervey, ‘he acts like a Prince if he doesn’t look like one.’
‘There have been ugly Princes, Madam, in the history of the world, and ill-mannered ones.’
She laughed at him. ‘You do well to remind me.’
He then began to divert her with the story of a Prince who was under a spell which made him appear as a gross monster and by the love of a good Princess cast off the spell and was turned into a beautiful Prince. This told in Hervey’s inimitable way, so malicious and yet so amusing, made the Queen laugh.
‘Who knows, Madam, the love of our Princess for a husband at all costs may turn our Dutch baboon into a Prince as charming as our own Prince of Wales, which might—or might not—bring delight to his bride! Perhaps in the circumstances it is better to leave him under the spell.’
‘You are very wicked, Lord Hervey, and I wonder I listen to you. But, my God, I suffer for my daughter.’
The wedding did not take place on the appointed day because the Prince of Orange was taken suddenly ill with pneumonia.