I

On November 6, 1817, died the Princess Charlotte, only child of the Prince Regent, and heir to the crown of England.  Her short life had hardly been a happy one.  By nature impulsive, capricious, and vehement, she had always longed for liberty; and she had never possessed it.  She had been brought up among violent family quarrels, had been early separated from her disreputable and eccentric mother, and handed over to the care of her disreputable and selfish father.  When she was seventeen, he decided to marry her off to the Prince of Orange; she, at first, acquiesced; but, suddenly falling in love with Prince Augustus of Prussia, she determined to break off the engagement.  This was not her first love affair, for she had previously carried on a clandestine correspondence with a Captain Hess.  Prince Augustus was already married, morganatically, but she did not know it, and he did not tell her.  While she was spinning out the negotiations with the Prince of Orange, the allied sovereign—­it was June, 1814—­arrived in London to celebrate their victory.  Among them, in the suite of the Emperor of Russia, was the young and handsome Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg.  He made several attempts to attract the notice of the Princess, but she, with her heart elsewhere, paid very little attention.  Next month the Prince Regent, discovering that his daughter was having secret meetings with Prince Augustus, suddenly appeared upon the scene and, after dismissing her household, sentenced her to a strict seclusion in Windsor Park.  “God Almighty grant me patience!” she exclaimed, falling on her knees in an agony of agitation:  then she jumped up, ran down the backstairs and out into the street, hailed a passing cab, and drove to her mother’s house in Bayswater.  She was discovered, pursued, and at length, yielding to the persuasions of her uncles, the Dukes of York and Sussex, of Brougham, and of the Bishop of Salisbury, she returned to Carlton House at two o’clock in the morning.  She was immured at Windsor, but no more was heard of the Prince of Orange.  Prince Augustus, too, disappeared.  The way was at last open to Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg.

This Prince was clever enough to get round the Regent, to impress the Ministers, and to make friends with another of the Princess’s uncles, the Duke of Kent.  Through the Duke he was able to communicate privately with the Princess, who now declared that he was necessary to her happiness.  When, after Waterloo, he was in Paris, the Duke’s aide-de-camp carried letters backwards and forwards across the Channel.  In January 1816 he was invited to England, and in May the marriage took place.