Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill: (Georgian Series) (16 page)

The King was talking about the concerts in the Abbey which had been such a success and the box he had had set up there for himself and the Queen and another for the rest of the family. He mentioned Mr Bates who had played the organ so admirably; and he personally had made arrangements that those who attended the concert should be able to see the organist.

He is so interested in little things, thought the Princess. No wonder everyone says he’s an old bore.

‘I’ve been speaking to Dr Burney about the new arrangement of the
Messiah.
Dr Burney is a most excellent man …’

How many times had she heard of the excellencies of Dr Burney? How many times had she heard the arrangements for the concerts discussed? And Handel’s name was constantly on his lips.

Well, I am eighteen, thought Charlotte, so surely they will find a husband for me soon. Six girls for whom to find husbands. It’s quite a number.

‘I should like to take a walk,’ said the King to the Queen, which, thought the Princess, meant that they were going to discuss the latest pranks of George, for clearly the King wished to speak to the Queen alone and as he never discussed State matters with her – considering women unable to understand such weighty problems – quite obviously they were going to discuss that most fascinating of topics: the sins of George.

Oh, why could she not be there! Had he really gone through a mock marriage with The Widow? How exciting! And how typical of George! He was promising to give them as much fun over The Widow as he had over the actress Perdita.

‘Princess Royal,’ said the Queen, tapping her fingers on the table, ‘my snuff box.’

Princess Charlotte rose hastily; she had forgotten this most important duty: to see that Mamma’s snuff box was filled and ready for use. The King looked pained; the Queen continued to tap her fingers.

Really, thought the Princess, they care more about silly details like filling a snuff box than the loss of the Colonies.

They were now ready to go out.

The Princesses stood in a row, dropping curtsies, all remembering that they must not forget their dignity and behave as it was called in the household
en princesse,
which meant that one must never forget that one was a King’s daughter and curtsey to some and uphold one’s dignity with others.

Lucky George, to have escaped this constant parental surveillance.

In the gardens the King walked with the Queen and for some few minutes discussed the flowers, the paths, and planting of shrubs and trees; then he came to the subject uppermost in his mind.

‘You have heard no doubt of the latest scandals created by our eldest son.’

‘I have,’ answered the Queen. ‘It is impossible not to hear. Everyone speaks of it. Schwellenburg tells me that they are singing a song about him.’

‘A ballad … not untuneful,’ said the King, ‘but it should not have been written about a Prince of Wales.’

‘I fear that he causes Your Majesty many sleepless nights.’

‘I have had ten in a row.’

‘Is there no way of curbing him?’ The Queen spoke severely. She had loved George best of all her children. She had been the proudest woman on Earth, she had believed, on the day he had been born; and when she had first seen the bawling lusty male child that she had brought into the world that had been the happiest moment of her life. And she had doted on him. She still looked at the wax image she had had made of him and which she had kept on her dressing table for years. But this arrogant dazzling young dandy was very different from that naked baby; and because George had shown so clearly that he had little time to give to his mother she turned against him now and then. Sometimes she longed for him to come and confide in her, and if he had she would have done all in her power to please him; but he did not, she gave way to her resentment in little bouts of anger against him.

‘Curb that young puppy? How, eh? How curb him, what?’

The Queen bit her lips nervously. She was terrified when the
King grew too excited because she remembered an illness he had had some years ago when he had behaved in a very peculiar manner, and she had realized then that he was not quite sound in his mind. Ever since she had been terrified that that illness would recur.

When the King was worried, and she recognized this state of mind by the rapid nature of his speech, her anxieties grew. One subject which could bring the King to this state more than any other was the Prince of Wales.

‘No, I suppose it is difficult,’ she said soothingly.

‘He’s past twenty-one. He’s got the people behind him. He’s got that fellow Fox …’

Fox! Another dangerous subject.

‘That man has something to answer for. I’d like to see him in the Tower.’

‘If only you could order him to be put there.’

The King said testily: ‘Kings in this country have no real power. They have to do what the Parliament says. How could I have Fox put away, eh? Tell me that? How? How? For what? For influencing the Prince of Wales in his drinking, gambling and fornicating habits, eh, what? Imagine them all getting up and screaming about that. Even Pitt would stand against it – much as he hates the fellow. No, we have to put up with Mr Fox. The fellow is the biggest evil this country has ever known. He runs a gambling house, did you know that, eh, what?’

‘I did not know,’ murmured the Queen.

‘Yes, Madam, a gambling house, and he is the boon companion of our son. He’s living in sin, I happen to know, with a woman … a woman who was once our son’s mistress, and they still visit and God knows what they do …’ The King’s eyes bulged as thoughts of the riotous living of his son, Mr Fox and Mr Fox’s mistress came into his mind, and he imagined himself indulging in such practices with … women like Elizabeth Pembroke. ‘Disgusting!’ he cried. ‘Eh, what?’

‘Disgusting,’ echoed the Queen.

‘And he is in debt.’

‘But you paid his debts.’

‘That was some time ago. It does not take this … this … puppy long … to run up more debts. He gambles … gambles
all the time. And Carlton House. Why, Madam, that is far more grand than anything you or I have, I do assure you. There is not a man or woman at this Court, I’ll swear, who would not consider it a greater honour to be invited to Carlton House than to Buckingham House, St James’s, Kew, Hampton or Windsor.’

‘Can it be so?’

‘It is so, Madam. It is so. And now we have this Widow.’

‘I have heard of her. They tell me she is a virtuous woman and has repulsed his advances.’

‘A virtuous woman,’ said the King; and wondered about her. He had heard that she was beautiful without being brazen, that she wore her hair unpowdered and her face unrouged and unleaded. She sounded a good woman – and she had refused the Prince. ‘H’m,’ he continued. ‘She is a good woman and I rejoice to hear it – but that young jackanapes is making a fool of himself by chasing her all over the place and telling everyone of his passion for her – talking of marriage, if you please.’

‘That is sheer nonsense.’

‘Everything he does is sheer nonsense. But I have asked to see his debts and I’ll have a detailed account of everything he’s spent before I see that they’re settled.’

‘Oh dear, what a trial he is. How could he have become like this?’

The King had the answer to that. It was: ‘Fox.’ He went on: ‘Women chatter. If you hear anything about this affair you should let me know without fail.’

‘Women chatter far too much.’

‘That’s true, and talk much nonsense, but this is an important matter. Nothing that comes to light should be ignored. I don’t like these rumours of marriage. That’s what makes me anxious.’

‘It would be impossible for him to marry her. The Marriage Act would prevent its being legal.’

‘I should not like him to go through a form of marriage with a virtuous lady.’

‘He would never dare. He knows the law. Whatever madness he is capable of he knows that as Prince of Wales he dare not marry without the consent of you and the Parliament.’

‘He should know that.’ The King was silent; he was thinking of a youthful folly of his own. He wished he could forget it, but he doubted he ever would. Hannah Lightfoot, the beautiful Quakeress, with whom he had been in love when he was a younger man than the Prince was now, and with whom he had gone through a form of marriage, often came out of the past to remind him.

He dared not think of her. When he did he heard voices in his head. And he was as much afraid of those voices as the Queen was.

The Prince returned to Carlton House in a distracted state.

‘What can I do?’ he wailed. He summoned Georgiana and Charles James Fox. He demanded that they help him; they must advise him. Maria had fled. What was he going to do? He declared he could not live without her.

They sought to advise. Charles suggested a little patience. Something would happen. Perhaps she would write. Georgiana offered comfort; but nothing could appease him.

‘There is only one thing I can do,’ he said. ‘I must find her. I must cross to the Continent without delay.’

‘You have forgotten,’ Charles reminded him, ‘that as Prince of Wales you cannot leave the country without the King’s consent.’

‘Then I must get that consent.’

‘His Majesty will never give it that you may follow a woman you are hoping to make your mistress.’

‘My wife,’ cried the Prince. ‘My wife.’

‘Terms which, in this case, His Majesty would find synonymous.’

‘I care nothing for His Majesty’s opinion,’ cried the Prince recklessly; which made Mr Fox shake his head sadly, a gesture intended to remind the Prince, most tactfully, that His Majesty’s opinion in this case was one which could not be ignored.

The Prince asked his father for an audience, and when the King received him the latter was pleased to notice that there was a new humility in his manner.

‘Your Majesty, I have come to ask permission to go abroad.’

‘Abroad. What for? The people won’t have that. The Prince of Wales’s place is in this country. Don’t you know that, eh, what?’

‘I have incurred many debts.’

‘Natural enough … when you consider the way you live. Dashing all over the place … down to Brighton … Carlton House. And gambling too. What are your gambling debts, eh, what? And the money you spend on women. It does not surprise me that you have debts.’

‘My expenses are great.’

‘Must be … Must be … Gambling … women … they are very expensive pastimes.’

‘Your Majesty cannot realize how expensive.’

There he was, the young rip. Sneering. What do
you
know of these things? No, thought the King, I have occupied my time with State matters. He wanted to shout that at the fellow, but he knew the sort of retort that would bring to those insolent lips. Perhaps it would have been better for the country if you had occupied yourself with gambling and women instead of politics. It might have been slightly less expensive than the loss of the Colonies.

They were always at the back of his mind – those Colonies. They and the Prince of Wales were the biggest anxieties of his life.

‘And so,’ said the King, ‘you are in difficulties.’

‘I owe money in all directions.’

‘So you think you can run away and escape your creditors, eh?’

‘I think it would be well to get away for a while.’

‘And this is your reason for wanting to go?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Liar, thought the King. You want to go in search of the widow who has run away and left you. Good sensible woman. To think that his subjects had to run away to escape the importunings of the Prince of Wales! A pleasant state of affairs!

‘I could not give my consent to your going abroad,’ said the King flatly. ‘And I should like to have further details of your debts. I want an explanation of all details. And then we will see what can be done about settling them. And if this should be possible, I hope you will let this be a lesson to you.’

The Prince was not listening. He was frantic. Any other man could have been free to leave the country if he wished, but he was a prisoner.

He rode out to Chertsey. Fox was not at home but Lizzie was there to comfort him … if it had been possible to give him any comfort.

‘Lizzie, Lizzie, what can I do?’

‘There must be something,’ she comforted. ‘I will talk it over with Charles. There must be a way out.’

‘I don’t even know where she is. I’ve been to see the old buffoon and he talks about details of debts. How do I know how the money is spent? But he is determined I shan’t go abroad. He knows why I want to go. Everyone gossips. And the sanctimonious old humbug preaches to me. “Gambling and women,” he says, and licks his lips because he’s never had either.’

‘Your Highness should plan calmly, I think.’

He seized her hands. ‘How, Lizzie? How?’

‘Well, let us think. If we could find out where she was, you could perhaps write to her.’

Letters! Soothing balm always! And he had a way with a pen which might move her. When she had thought he was dying she had relented so far as to allow him to put that ring on her finger, to sign the document. If he could move her with his pen …

He looked hopefully at Lizzie.

‘But where … where is she?’

‘We shall have to find out.’

‘And then I shall not be able to go to her. Then there are only letters. Oh, Lizzie, if you knew the
depth
of my feelings.’

‘I do,’ she said gently.

‘You can’t, I have never experienced this passion before during the whole of my life. I will never know another moment’s peace until she comes back to me.’ He threw himself on to a couch and covering his face with his hands, wept.

Lizzie Armistead told Charles Fox afterwards that although she had heard him express himself somewhat emotionally before she had never seen him act so violently. He was half laughing, half crying; he lay on the floor and rolled backwards
and forwards; he struck his forehead and frightened Lizzie because she thought he was going mad.

‘Your Highness,’ she begged, ‘I pray you get up and sit down. Nothing can be solved by rolling on the floor.’

‘What can be solved standing up?’ he demanded.

‘Calm thinking might bring us to a solution.’