It was now five years since Henrietta had seen her son. Freedom from Charles had come at a dreadful price, but she contented herself with piecing together Henry’s life from what little information her friends were able to glean. He had been sent away to school, she learned, and perhaps she hoped that the distance this would put between father and son might go in her favour. Left alone to discover his own mind, there was always the faint hope that young Henry might resolve to seek out his mother of his own accord. Sadly, that was something Henry Howard never did.
At Leicester House the circle that had once contained Henrietta’s friends was shrinking as marriage carried the other maids of honour away. She was more aware than ever that many of those politicians who now sought to win her friendship did so with one eye on their future ambitions. Just as the king’s political opponents were regular callers at the Prince of Wales’ court, so too did that same court inevitably divide into factions, with Walpole and Caroline on one side and Henrietta and Walpole’s enemies on the other. It was not what Henrietta, who had created a home for herself in the Swiss cantons, had envisioned for herself. The relationship between Melusine and George I was more like that of a married couple, but that of Henrietta and George Augustus was never so close. She would always be second to his beloved Caroline of Ansbach, no matter how much influence ambitious politicians might think she wielded.
The role of mistress to a bad-tempered, grumpy heir to the throne who wanted nothing more than to see the back of his father was not one to be relished. Henrietta’s friends certainly knew of her growing dissatisfaction with her place. As early as 1720 Mary Bellenden, by now Mary Campbell, wrote to Henrietta to commiserate with her on her situation. It is significant that in signing off, she wrote, “My dear Howard, God bless you, and send health and liberty. Don’t show this, I charge you, at your peril.”133 Liberty was definitely on Henrietta’s mind and she had begun saving once again. Though she had sold everything from her jewels to her bed linen first to pay the rent then to fund the trip to Hanover, her role as the Prince of Wales’ mistress made the matter of building a nest egg considerably easier.
As the years passed and Henrietta and George Augustus grew more distant, her financial acumen would prove to be invaluable. By the time Mary informed Henrietta that there was already court gossip suggesting that things had soured between the prince and his mistress, that same mistress was already plotting her escape. Each letter from the women who had once been Henrietta’s contemporaries at court brought new tales of happy marriages and fashionable trips to take the waters or to dance the night away, but all of that was denied to Henrietta. Perhaps luckily for her though, just as she was looking for a way to escape the court, so too was George Augustus; bored by his mistress and seeking new entertainment, he was equally keen to send her packing.
Aware of the need to ensure his mistress’ future if he hoped to one day be rid of her, George Augustus offered Henrietta a settlement of £11,500, a significant proportion of which was made up of shares in the infamous South Sea Company. That money, along with other gifts, provided Henrietta with a sum that was entirely safe from the grasping hands of her estranged husband, and offered her the very real chance of starting a new life away from the royal court. Caroline of Ansbach, however, had other plans. Henrietta Howard was a known figure, a case of better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. She was Caroline’s servant and had long since been taught to know her place. The Princess of Wales wasn’t about to let her husband trade Henrietta in for a potentially more threatening replacement without putting up a fight.
Caroline didn’t interfere in Henrietta’s schemes for now, but instead allowed her to go about quietly making plans for a life beyond the court. In order to keep her plans private, Henrietta retained the services of her friend the Earl of Ilay, who she engaged to purchase land in Twickenham on her behalf. It was there that she would eventually construct her sanctuary of Marble Hill House. Henrietta continued adding to this initial parcel of land over the next few years, gradually increasing her estate a little bit at a time in the hope that Charles wouldn’t notice. By this point, Twickenham was a fashionable place for those who wanted to escape the hustle and bustle of London. It was also close to the royal summer residence of Richmond Lodge, which George Augustus had taken possession of in 1719, and a country residence in Twickenham was a sure sign that a Georgian had really made it. It was here that Henrietta, increasingly plagued by deafness, envisioned herself living out the rest of her days, far from court intrigues and her grumpy lover and his watchful wife. The house itself was designed by architect Roger Morris and Lord Pembroke, and by the summer of 1723, a plan of her dream home was all but completed.
With Charles alert to any developments in his wife’s situation, secrecy was of paramount importance, but still Henrietta shared news of the project with a small and trusted circle. Amongst that circle were Pope, Gay and Lords Bathurst, Peterborough, and Burlington, all of whom played their part in bringing Henrietta’s cherished plans to fruition and oversaw construction of her new home on her behalf. When the Prince and Princess of Wales acquired Richmond Lodge, Caroline had employed Pope to help her improve the grounds and in the gardens and fanciful grottos of Marble Hill, which looked out over the Thames, he would demonstrate his exceptional skills once more. It was a worrying show of independence for a royal mistress.
True to form for a woman who had navigated the choppy waters of court without making many enemies, once the work at Twickenham became widely known, Henrietta’s friends and admirers flocked to lend a hand wherever it might be needed.
Henrietta had always been popular at court on account of her good nature and ready access to the prince, but among her friends and confidantes were some who were a little more keen on her than others. Two came to the fore in the shape of Earl Bathurst and the Earl of Peterborough, and that was enough to irritate the Prince of Wales. Ironically, their interest was all it took to effectively scupper Henrietta’s chances of getting away. Just as she had once been in thrall to Charles, now it was the heir to the throne who was effectively deciding Henrietta’s future for her.
Charles Mordaunt, 3rd Earl of Peterborough, was 65 years old when he set his cap at Henrietta. His life had been one of adventure, marked by the highest highs and lowest lows, not least of which was a spell in the Tower of London for his suspected role in a Jacobite conspiracy. Mordaunt had made a comeback during the reign of Queen Anne, when he had returned to his political career and saw active military service. Fiery, something of a romantic and with an eye for the ladies, this ageing Casanova had secretly married opera singer Anastasia Robinson in 1722 but, even with a wife more than 30 years his junior, he couldn’t help but fall for Henrietta. Lady Hervey, formerly known as Melusine’s rival Molly Lepell, sent Henrietta an amusing note which perhaps summed up the unusual character of Mordaunt perfectly.
“[Lord Mordaunt] wear boots all day, and, as I hear, must do so, having brought no shoes with him, and a cabbage under each arm, or a chicken in his hand, which, after he himself has purchased at market, he carries home for his dinner.”134
Yet Lord Mordaunt, earthy and temperamental, could be a poet too. He wrote a ballad in praise of Henrietta which was filled with exultations to her wit and beauty, singing the praises of the almost otherworldly woman who had captured his heart. The ballad concludes with the following stanza:
O wonderful creation! A woman of reason!
Never grave out of pride, never gay out of season;
When so easy to guess who this angel should be,
Would one think Mrs. Howard ne’er dreamt it was she?
The earl penned long and loving letters to Henrietta but they weren’t necessarily indicative of sexual intimacy between the two of them. Rather they were old fashioned, courtly love letters, filled with breathless flights of fancy and adoring promises. They’re certainly not what one would expect from an old soldier in his sixties who’d already had his fair share of romantic adventures. Peterborough, one might say, had got it bad.
“As I can as well live without meat and sleep as without thinking of her who had possession of my soul,” he wrote to Henrietta, “so to find some relief, in never having any conversation with this adored lady, I have been forced, when alone, to make many and many a dialogue betwixt her and myself.”135 In his letters he reproached Henrietta for not replying? with similar declarations of love, but how on earth could she? Even if she shared his feelings, and there’s absolutely no proof that she did, Henrietta’s place at court was still precarious even after all these years. Should George Augustus withdraw his favours, the future wouldn’t necessarily be bright.
Unsure of how to proceed, Henrietta enlisted the help of her friend, John Gay, to construct a response to Peterborough. How far his assistance went we can’t be sure, but as Peterborough’s flowery letters continued Henrietta answered them not as a lover, but as a thinker. She questioned her would-be suitor more closely about how he saw the nature of love and particularly how he regarded the role of the woman in the pursuit that he seemed so intent on undertaking. What emerges most of all from her replies is a very gentle, yet rather firm rejection. Henrietta wanted to discuss logic, not emotion.
“Every one that loves think his own mistress an Amoret; and, therefore, ask any lover who and what Amoret is, he will describe his own mistress as she appears to himself; but the common practice of men of gallantry is, to make an Amoret of every lady they write to. And, my lord, after you have summed up all the fine qualities that are necessary to make an Amoret, I am under some apprehensions you will conclude with a compliment by saying I am she.”136
The more decorous and romantic Peterborough’s letters became, the more logical were Henrietta’s replies. She deconstructed his melodramatic talk of dying for the want of love or exiling himself if she rejected him, and pointed out instead that he had been a soldier in his day, a man who had faced very real dangers and survived them. He would survive this too, she assured him. Perhaps in a lastditch effort to win his adored Henrietta to his arms, Lord Peterborough sent her the ballad he had composed in her honour. In fact, as far as Henrietta was concerned this sealed the deal. She thanked him politely for his interest but informed her admirer that his ballad merely provided a perfect example of “the ridiculous cant of love.”137 True love wasn’t expressed in high blown words and lyrical ballads, she admonished Peterborough, but in the slightest glance or hushed word. One shouldn’t have to think about love, it should come naturally.
Lord Peterborough took it on the chin. He continued to adore Henrietta from afar whilst consoling himself with the charms of his secret bride, but there were those among the courtiers who were convinced that things had progressed further than the simple exchange of letters. Idle gossip, no doubt, and certainly not borne out at all by the content of Henrietta’s replies. There was always a certain element of flirtation between courtiers. For example, Henrietta liked to write to Lord Chesterfield in the guise of her little dog, Marquise, and he would reply as though addressing the canine directly. Decades later when both were elderly, she and Chesterfield corresponded playfully again, this time in the guise of a maid in Henrietta’s household and a footman in Chesterfield’s. There was never a romance, merely a shared love of silliness and a bit of starry-eyed flirtation, or frizelation, as Henrietta termed it.
Idle gossip attached itself too to Allan Bathurst, 1st Earl Bathurst, who shared Peterborough’s longing to win Henrietta’s love. Only five years divided Henrietta and Earl Bathurst in age and, like so many members of her own family, he had pursued a political career. A close friend of Alexander Pope’s and a political opponent of Robert Walpole, Bathurst was a natural fit for Henrietta’s particular circle. He was also married, but that wasn’t really an obstacle to anything at the Georgian court.
Bathurst and Henrietta became far firmer friends than she and Peterborough ever were, and he was invaluable in the construction of Marble Hill. He and Pope drew up plans for the grounds in concert with Henrietta, and the closer they worked, the more the gossip swirled at Leicester House. Whether the friendship went beyond that of a frizelation is debateable, but I suspect not. Henrietta’s position at court was worth more to her than rumpled bedsheets and the odd night of passion. Then, quite suddenly and just as quickly as the gossip had started, it stopped. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, who had done her bit to fan the flames by spreading rumours of the earl and Henrietta, was sure that George Augustus had had words with his mistress and warned her that enough was enough. “The fair lady,” wrote Lady Mary, “[was] given to understand by her commanding officer, that if she shewed [sic] under other colours, she must expect to have her pay retrenched.”138 That was all it took to dampen the rumoured amour between the earl and the lady.
As the building at Marble Hill progressed, Henrietta was still stuck at court with the jealous Prince of Wales, and though he certainly didn’t really want her for himself anymore, he equally didn’t want anyone else to have her instead. Kept busy with the stultifying duties of the household, she could only listen in rapt excitement as her friends told her of how well work on the villa was progressing. As Marble Hill took shape they dined there and toasted their absent friend, but Henrietta at least knew that her cherished sanctuary was being cared for. For now, she could still only dream of closing her own front door.