The people would not allow it.
They wanted to see their Prince and Princess riding through the streets, walking in the parks.
A royal quarrel was exciting only for a while. They would allow no locking up of their Prince and Princess.
Besides the poor lady had just given birth to a boy. What a shock this must be for her, and her still recovering from a difficult confinement!
The people were for the Prince and Princess.
Aghast at what had happened, Caroline tried to plan what they should do for the best.
She knew they had a vindictive man against them. She had lived long enough in the shadow of the Leine Schloss where the ill-fated Sophia Dorothea, the Prince's mother, had learned what could happen to those who offended George Lewis.
Why should he be any more lenient towards a son than a wife?
They must not be foolishly proud. They must act quickly.
She tried to convey her fears to George Augustus, who after his first storms of rage had subsided was prepared to listen to her.
He too remembered the fate of his mother.
Between them they composed a letter to the King which the Prince wrote.
"If I have had the misfortune to offend Your Majesty, contrary to my intention, I crave his pardon and pray him to be
persuaded of the respect which I have for him. I will show no more resentment to the Duke of Newcastle "
Caroline read the letter slowly.
"Must I send this to that old scoundrel?" asked the Prince almost tearfully.
"I fear so," she said. "He has great power. Ve must not forget your mother."
They had humbled themselves and the King was glad of that. Not that he intended it to do them any good. He despised and hated his son. He would never forget the day when as a boy he had broken away from a hunting party and tried to rescue his mother. It had been an attempt doomed to failure from the start but the boy had been reckless enough to make it, and it had earned him the admiration and afEection of too many people. It had called attention to the vindictive cruelty of his father; and more than that, it had been the beginning of the enmity between them.
The boy had been on the side of his mother, which meant that he was against his father.
George Lewis never forgave, never forgot an insult, or an injury. Sophia Dorothea, still in prison, was a confirmation of that.
He wanted to forget that woman; and her son—who was unfortunately his also—would not let him forget. For instance, there were times when he even looked like her; and he knew she was often in his mind. His son had never forgiven him for what he had done to his mother. Very well, he would have to learn what it meant to have his father for an enemy.
When he read the letter his son had written he laughed scornfully. He knew who was responsible for that. That she-devil. George Augustus would never have had the sense to try to placate him.
Well, Madam, you have failed, said the King; and he put the letter into a candle flame and let it burn.
Stanhope, with several of his ministers, was asking for audience to discuss this unfortunate matter of the Prince. He received them with no change in his usual dour expression.
"Your Majesty we cannot keep the Prince in confinement indefinitely," Stanhope explained. "It is a breach of the Habeas Corpus Act. The Opposition will create a great disturbance if we keep him confined much longer. It could lead to great trouble."
"If I were in Hanover I should know what to do," said the King. "Here in England ... there are different laws. You must explain to me. But one thing I will not have—and I know there is no law to stop this. I will not live under the same roof with the Prince."
Stanhope replied: "Your Majesty is right. There is no law to prevent the Prince having a separate establishment."
"Then I will banish him and the Princess from St. James's Palace."
"The Cabinet would have to approve Your Majesty's decision."
"Then let them approve ... quickly. I will not tolerate him here much longer."
"I will call a meeting of the Cabinet without delay," said Stanhope.
Caroline had risen from her bed, although still weak. The quarrel with the King had not helped in her recovery and she was very anxious as to the outcome. The Prince was more subdued than usual. The days of confinement to his apartments had sobered him considerably. He considered the power of his father and was alarmed as to what the next move would be.
Caroline thought of her daughters in another part of the palace and wondered what stories they were hearing of the differences between their parents and their grandfather. She asked that they might be sent to her, that if they were under arrest the whole family might be together, but was told that the King's orders were that the girls were not to visit their parents.
She was more alarmed than ever when she heard this.
He is capable of any cruelty, she thought. And again she thought of his wife who had been separated from her two young children.
What next? she wondered.
She felt faint and feverish, and this was an additional anxiety for she knew that in this crisis she needed all her wits.
Their sentence came to them, explained in a document which the King had prepared. They were free to go, but they were banished from St. James's.
George Augustus read the document aloud to her.
''Banished! " he said. "Good riddance to him and his miserable court. Ve'll have our own. A fine goot court. He von't like that. Oh no, my old rascal."
"And is that all?" she asked.
"No, there is some more."
She was out of bed and taking the document from his hands. She felt dizzy as she read:
"It is my pleasure that my grandson and granddaughters remain at St. James's where they are. The Princess will be permitted to see them when she has a mind, and the children will be permitted from time to time to go and see her and my son."
Caroline dropped the document and stared at the Prince.
"Do you see vat he is doing?"
"He is sending us avay." The Prince snapped his fingers. "Let him. Ve vill have von fine big court ... better than his. To ours vill come his enemies. He is von big fool."
"He is going to keep the children from us."
"He says you can see them ... from time to time."
"From time to time! My own children. They are going to be
taken from us. And the baby He is so young. He needs his
mother."
"You are distressed, my tear. That old scoundrel ... his is von vicked old devil... but ve vill outvit him yet."
"My children," murmured Caroline. "My little baby. Don't you see. This is his punishment to us! He is going to rob us of our children?"
He could not share her grief. He was planning ahead. He would have his court and the Prince's Court would be a rival to the King's. It would be no different from before, except that the people would be sorry for him; they would be on his side. The old devil had not been so clever after all.
But Caroline was heartbroken. This was the cruellest blow he could have inflicted. Perhaps he knew it and that was why he had planned it. He was going to separate her from her children.
There was no time for grief. They were expected to leave on receipt of the King's order.
"Where to?" asked Caroline in bewilderment.
No one knew. All that mattered was that they left St. James's without delay. It was the King's wish that they did not spend another night under the same roof as himself.
Caroline called for Henrietta.