Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill: (Georgian Series) (39 page)

‘There is something singular in the perfect trust he seems to have in my discretion, for he speaks to me when we are alone with a frankness unequalled; and there is something very flattering in the apparent relief he seems to find in dedicating what time he has to dispose of to me in my little parlour.’

The Queen looked at her maid of honour.

‘Colonel Digby took tea with you yesterday, Miss Burney.’

‘Yes, Your Majesty, that was so.’

‘But pray how did it happen? I understood he was confined to his room with the gout.’

‘He grew better, Madam, and hoped by a little exercise to prevent a serious fit.’

So, thought the Queen, they were avoiding him. They found his conduct embarrassing. They risked royal displeasure rather
than face those long diatribes. How can I blame them?

She could not attend to the reading. She realized that she had been sitting with her needle poised in her hand for some minutes.

They must not notice that she was acting oddly too.

It will be almost a relief, she thought, when it is
known
.

The King came out of the house laughing to himself. It was a pleasure not to be surrounded by equerries and attendants. Out into the lanes. The land looked good.

‘How pleasant to be a farmer,’ he said to himself. ‘Growing the crops, making the butter. Should have enjoyed it. Nothing like fresh country air. Fresh air. Good for everybody. Fresh air … simple food … no drink … no fat … have to be careful. Tendency in the family.’

He had forgotten that it was impossible for the King to wander out and be unrecognized. He had come to a few houses round a village green and some children playing there had seen him and hastened to carry the news that the King had come. In a short time he was being followed by a group of villagers and, seeing them, he turned and greeted them.

‘Pleasant, eh? Pretty country. Nothing like the country. Good clean country air. Not like London? Give me the country. Healthy, eh, what?’

The villagers did not know what to do; they looked at each other and giggled and the King went on talking about farms and the country and the peace of the quiet life – but so rapidly that they could scarcely hear what he was saying.

He came to a bridge.

‘Hey,’ he cried. ‘What’s this, eh? A bridge, eh, what?’

A man who was standing close to the King received the full glare of those protuberant eyes.

‘If it please, Your Majesty,’ he said, ‘it is a bridge.’

‘A bridge, eh, my boys? Then let us give it a huzza, eh, what?’

At which he took off his hat, waved it in the air and gave three lusty cheers.

It was while he was doing this that Colonels Digby and Goldsworthy found him and discreetly managed to conduct him back to the house.

The villagers looked after him, murmuring to each other that the ways of royalty were very strange.

Colonel Digby mentioned the King’s odd behaviour to the Queen who listened intently.

‘His Majesty,’ she said, ‘has always been interested in the country.’

And she thought: It can’t be long now. He is very close to complete breakdown.

It was the very next morning when the King awoke in the early hours and chuckling with pleasure rose and went to the Colonel’s quarters.

He banged on their doors and ran up and down the stairs shouting ‘Tallyho!’ and waking everyone in the near vicinity.

Once again Colonel Digby dealt with the situation and courteously conducted His Majesty back to his room.

Miss Burney was reading to the Queen. It was not a very affecting passage, but suddenly the tears began to fall down the Queen’s cheeks.

Fanny stopped reading in dismay and the Queen vainly sought to repose her features. It was not possible. The tears flowed over, and the Queen put her hand to her face and wept.

It was over in a few minutes.

‘How nervous I am,’ she said. ‘I am … quite a fool, don’t you think so?’

‘No, Madam,’ replied Fanny quietly.

The Queen smiled at her gratefully, for she knew in that moment that Miss Burney understood the reason for her emotion.

‘I think,’ said the Queen, ‘that we have had enough of Cheltenham. I will speak to the King.’

‘Yes, Madam,’ replied Fanny; and she went on talking which was not quite correct in the presence of the Queen but on this occasion Fanny believed it was what Her Majesty desired. ‘Cheltenham, Madam, is now on the map because of Your Majesty’s visit. The
Morning Post
says that all the fashions are completely Cheltenhamized throughout Great Britain.’

The Queen nodded. ‘The people of Cheltenham will be very pleased.’

‘Cheltenham will now rival Brighton,’ said the irrepressible Fanny.

Brighton was synonymous in the Queen’s mind with trouble. Trouble, thought the Queen. Trouble all around.

‘Yes,’ she said aloud, ‘it is indeed time we left Cheltenham.’

Back at St James’s the King’s strange behaviour continued. His ministers noticed it; there were whispers about it. It was not long before it was mentioned in the papers.

The Queen asked to see all the papers and Miss Burney took them to her and anxiously watched her pursue them.

With one comment she was extremely angry. Miss Burney did not dare ask what it was, but the Queen said: ‘They should be sued for this. I shall not allow it to pass.’

Fanny listened quietly, thinking that since her arrival at Court Her Majesty had changed. She was not so aloof from affairs, nor so resigned.

The Queen shrugged her shoulders suddenly.

‘Light the candle, Miss Burney,’ she said.

Fanny obeyed and the Queen held the paper in the flame.

The King’s conduct became stranger and stranger. At Kew he went out riding in the rain and came back so wet that when his boots were taken off water poured out of them. This gave him a chill and brought the rash out again. He liked to go out alone and would pace up and down talking to himself and beating time to music which no one else could hear.

One day out riding with the Queen he called for the carriage to stop that he might seize one of the lower branches of an oak and shake it as though it were a hand. When the postilion approached him he ordered him away because, he said, he was conversing with the King of Prussia.

When about to drive with the Princess Royal he got into the chaise and then got out again to give orders to the postilions; once more he got in and out again and continued to do this, all the time talking so rapidly that his voice was growing more and more hoarse and finally the Princess Royal burst into tears, alighted and ran back to her apartments.

This conduct could not be ignored.

The King was ill; many believed that he had not long to live.
News of this reached the Prince in Brighton and brought him with all speed to Windsor.

On the way from Brighton to Windsor the Prince of Wales was thinking of the prospect before him. If rumour could be believed his father was very ill indeed, in fact near to death; and this meant of course that the Prince of Wales could shortly become the King of England.

It was a dazzling prospect; and yet the Prince felt uneasy. He wished that he could have shown more affection towards his father. Now that the poor old fellow was so ill he felt remorseful. All the same it
was
an exciting prospect. He had already spoken of it to Burke and Sheridan and with such close friends and allies there was no need for hypocrisy. They were delighted by the thought of a new reign; and in his heart so was the Prince.

‘Your Highness will want to send for Fox,’ suggested Burke.

Sheridan agreed that Fox would be needed; and the Prince fell in with their suggestion, although a trifle uneasily. Maria’s dislike of Fox and the fact that he had been unfairly blamed for the denial of the marriage was disturbing, but he realized that in such a crisis they needed Fox.

‘I’ve no idea where he might be,’ went on Burke.’ Somewhere in Italy, I believe. But I think Your Highness will agree that no time should be lost as it may be some weeks before we can find him.’

The Prince had agreed and the search for Fox was begun.

Oh, yes, indeed, it was a brilliant prospect. Fox would be the leader of the Whig Party, with the support of the Prince who would have become King. Although Fox had announced himself to be disgusted with English politics, although he had declared that he wished to hear nothing of what was going on at home in Parliament, although he wanted to receive no newspapers, no letters – this would bring him home.

The Prince arrived at Windsor and went immediately to the Queen.

He kissed her hand and looking into her face was immediately aware of the change in her. She was very anxious, certainly; but she was no longer the meek woman he had hitherto known; there was something almost militant about her.

‘It is well,’ she said, ‘that you should be here.’

‘I must see the doctors at once,’ said the Prince. ‘I shall want a detailed account from them.’

He imagines himself King already, thought the Queen. But it has not yet come to that.

‘Pray do not allow the King to guess that you have come with such speed because you are waiting to take the throne.’

‘Madam,’ said the Prince coldly, ‘I assure you good manners would prevent me from acting in such a manner.’

‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘You will be shocked when you see him. His appearance has changed considerably. His voice has changed. He talks constantly … talks and talks until his voice is hoarse and in fact fails him altogether. The veins stand out at his temples and his eyes look like black-currant jelly.’

The Prince said sharply: ‘What is his malady? There seems to be a great deal of mystery about it. Who is attending him?’

‘Sir George Baker, who has always attended the King.’

‘He’s an old fool. The King himself once said he was an old woman.’

‘He is reliable.’

‘I will send a doctor of my own choosing to see him.’

Oh, yes, thought the Queen. He sees himself as the master of us all already. But it shall not be. He shall not ignore me.

What had come over her? This was her beloved son.

The Prince sought out his brother Frederick who had also arrived at Windsor.

‘You have seen him,’ said the Prince of Wales to Frederick. ‘What is your opinion?’

‘That he’s very ill indeed. You should be at hand, George. He behaves so oddly. Of course our mother has been trying to hide this but she can’t do it much longer.’

‘She seemed like a different woman. I have never seen her like this before.’

‘She’s given up having children. Perhaps that accounts for it. She does not approve of your way of life, George.’

‘Nor do I approve of hers.’

Frederick laughed. ‘There may be conflicts in the family. Although I suppose we should not be surprised at that. It’s the family tradition.’

‘Fred.’

‘Yes, George.’

‘Whatever happens, I shall be able to rely on you?’

‘To the death,’ said Frederick.

The brothers clasped hands.

‘By God,’ said the Prince, ‘I’m glad you came back from Germany in time.’

While the family dined together, Frederick was watching his father and elder brother very closely. The King did not address the Prince of Wales, in fact he had given no indication that he was aware of his being present, but he was disturbed and Frederick believed that this was due to the presence of the Prince.

The Princesses Charlotte, Augusta and Elizabeth were silent. Visits from their brother had always been exciting, but they knew why George was here this time and it was a frightening thought.

The King had started to talk and the subject of his discourse was so involved that none of the family could understand what it was all about. On and on he went, occasionally shooting out an eh, what?

The Queen sat clenching and unclenching her hands, feeling that at any moment she would cry out that she could endure no more. The Princesses’ eyes were on their mother expecting she would give the command to leave the table. The Prince of Wales was watching his father incredulously and thinking: He’s not physically ill. He’s
mad
!

The King glared at his son. ‘Eh?’ he whispered, for he had almost lost his voice. ‘Eh, what?’

The Prince said: ‘I cannot hear what Your Majesty says. You are whispering. If you will speak a little louder …’

The King stood up suddenly. There was a terrified silence as he walked to that chair on which the Prince of Wales was sitting.

The Prince was rising when the King seized him about the neck.

‘Puppy! Insolent dog! You would tell the King of England that he should speak out … would you? By God, I’ll kill you. I will … I will … I will …’

The Prince tried to drag the King’s hands from his throat. Frederick sprang up and there was a scuffle which was joined by the equerries. The Prince of Wales fell back against the wall and stared at the King whose eyes were dark with rage.

The Queen put her hand over her mouth to prevent herself screaming; the Prince was weeping and Colonel Digby asked if it were His Majesty’s wish that he should conduct him to his apartment.

The King looked puzzled, but after a little persuasion allowed himself to be led away.

Never had there been such a scene in the royal dining room. The Princess Charlotte ran to get Hungary water to bathe her brother’s forehead and so revive him. In her own apartments the Queen could no longer restrain her fears; she threw herself on to her bed and gave way to violent laughter and tears.

The truth could no longer be hidden.

The King was mad.

The Regency Bill

THE PRINCE RODE
out to Bagshot from Windsor where, in the parlour of a hostelry, he found Sheridan and Maria waiting for him.

He embraced Maria warmly and Sheridan almost equally so.

‘This is going to be a very big change in our fortunes,’ he said, looking earnestly at Maria.

‘My only hope is that all will go well with you,’ she answered.

‘A Duchess first,’ he whispered, ‘and then, by God, you shall be acknowledged Princess of Wales.’