She lifted hers. "To King James III now across the water. May he soon be in his rightful place."
George looked into his glass and she went on: "Come! Why don't you drink? Drink to King James! "
"I drink with all my heart to the health of any unfortunate prince," said the King.
After that he was in no mood for possible seduction and he left early.
He was not liked by his new subjects. It was possible that he would be sent back to Hanover.
It would, he reflected, be rather pleasant to end his days there.
George Augustus was watching his wife's maid of honour and Caroline was watching George Augustus. They were in church, for the King's advisers had pointed out that it was essential to show the people that the new dynasty was determined to support the Church of England.
The King knew, even in his most nostalgic moments, that he would be a fool to lose this kingdom. Even though he himself longed to go back to Hanover he must make the three crowns of England, Scotland and Ireland secure for his descendants. As far as George Augustus was concerned, he could go to hell for all he cared, but there was young Frederick now in Hanover who would in his turn be Prince of Wales and King.
Therefore to church went the King but the long sermons in a tongue he could not understand were a trial to him and he could not pretend they were otherwise. He slept through most of them, or if he couldn't sleep he would discuss state matters with whoever was next to him. The preacher had to accept that. Now he was asleep, a fact made obvious by his intermittent snores. The Prince however was alert, his eyes speculatively on lovely Mary Bellenden.
Caroline was wondering whether she had been wise to accumulate such a band of beauties and bring them into her household. Yes, she decided, better to have them under her surveillance, and Mrs. Clayton and Mrs. Howard would be excellent watchdogs—particularly Henrietta who had her own position to think of.
Margaret Meadows, the oldest of the girls was sitting up primly in her pew and giving side glances at the girls who, taking their cue from the King, showed no attention to the preacher—on this occasion the renowned Bishop Burnet. Mary Bellenden and Molly Lepel were whispering together. Fair and pretty Bridget Carteret, who was a niece of Lord Carteret, was doing her best to suppress her giggles which was more than Sophia Howe could manage. Every now and then the girl's choking laughter could be heard. Sophie was very frivolous. I should dismiss her, thought Caroline. But she was the granddaughter of Prince Rupert—although on the wrong side of the blanket—who was a brother of the Electress Sophia, and such a close connection could not be ignored; but the girl would have to be spoken to.
Bishop Burnet had turned his scornful gaze from the snoring King to the giggling maids of honour and made it very clear that he was displeased with the House of Hanover. Queen Anne had been most devout in her attitude to the church; Queen Mary had been the same; it was true King James had been a Catholic and been dismissed for it; and King Charles had made comments during sermons, but at least they were witty. Bishop Burnet had implied that these were newcomers to England and if they wished to retain their popularity they must show due respect to the church.
He was right, of course, thought Caroline; but in fact her thoughts were more occupied with George Augustus's interest in Mary Bellenden than Bishop Burnet's criticism of her maids.
How far would Mary Bellenden seek to impose her will, she wondered. She was very very pretty and could no doubt have a great influence on George Augustus if she wished. She reminded herself that she had been lucky so far.
The King gave a louder snore than usual which woke him up; he looked about him startled for a moment and then saw that the service was almost over, so yawning inelegantly he prepared to leave. The maids of honour—Sophia Howe still giggling—trooped out of their pews, and the royal party left the church for the palace.
Bishop Burnet bowed to Caroline.
"I am grieved, Your Highness," he said, "to make this complaint to you, but it is no use taking it to His Majesty whose snoring through my sermons—and those of others—shows clearly that he has little respect for the conduct of his servants in church."
"For me too there is the grief," replied Caroline. "I too have these naughty girls seen."
"Your Highness will agree, I am sure that such behaviour cannot continue."
"I agree," replied Caroline.
"The Church is becoming nothing but a meeting place for the purpose of flirtation. It is full now of young men who come simply to gaze at the maids of honour and attempt to make their acquaintance. Your Highness will agree that that is not the purpose of the service."
"You are right. Bishop."
"It cannot go on."
"Do you vish that they stay away?"
"Stay away and imperil their souls. Your Highness? Those girls are half-way to perdition already. No, their pew should be boarded in and the board should be high enough to prevent their being seen by the young men."
"You mean ... put them in a petit ... box?"
"Your Highness might call it that. They must listen to the service but not be seen."
"Oh, it is ... traurig. They are so pretty."
"Your Highness we must not concern ourselves with their physical perfections but the welfare of their souls."
"Ah, yes, yes. There shall be this ... box, if you so say."
Dr. Burnet left the Princess satisfied with his interview. She was a good woman, a sensible woman; and he would not be displeased when the time came for her to mount the throne as Queen.
The Prince had waylaid Mary Bellenden.
"You are von pretty madchen," he told her.
She made a pert curtsey.
"I you like very much."
She took a few paces backwards and head on one side regarded him, slightly insolently, but she was so pretty that even so she was delightful.
"And you like me? That is veil, eh?"
"It is the duty of a good subject to honour the Prince of Wales," replied Mary demurely.
"So, you vill this duty do?"
"It depends how far this duty extends."
"Vat is dis?"
"Your Highness I am a virtuous young lady."
"Ah ... yes ... you are very pretty."
"So I am told. Your Highness. But I am constantly having to tell others how virtuous I am. They won't believe me. But I have to convince them. And it will be the same with your Highness, I fear."
"Vat is dis?"
But she had already made a sweeping curtsey and moved to the door; she smiled at him provocatively for one second before she disappeared.
"Got damn it," said the Prince.
There were wails of protests from the gay gallants of the court when they saw the boarded-up pew but this was something they could not blame on the Hanoverians. This was their own Bishop Burnet who had decided to hide the pretty creatures from sight. The whole object of going to church was spoilt; for it was small consolation to hear the giggles of Sophia Howe, always louder than the rest, behind the high wooden wall.
They didn't go to church to be bored by Bishop Burnet or any preacher; and the amusement the King had at first caused with his snores and loud conversation during sermon time had worn thin.
Soon the lampooners were busy.
"Bishop Burnet perceived that the beautiful dames Who flocked to the chapel of hilly St. James On their lovers alone their kind looks did bestow. And smiled not on him while he bellowed below."
There followed more verses to explain what had happened and these ended with:
"The Princess by rude importunity pressed,
Though she laughed at his reasons, allowed his request;
And now Britain's nymphs in a Protestant reign
Are boxed up at prayers like virgins of Spain"