The Third George: (Georgian Series) Read online

  ‘Then my dear, you must try to understand. That woman is overbearing. She is causing trouble among your attendants. It is a common enough situation – and she must go.’

  The young woman who had dared write a letter to Frederick the Great came to life at such an ultimatum. She herself was not so very fond of Schwellenburg that she would be heartbroken to lose her. Who could be as fond as that of Schwellenburg? But she would have to find someone to take her place. Haggerdorn was too meek; and there must be someone with whom she could speak her native tongue. No, she was not going to be robbed of Schwellenburg as easily as that – if only to show her mother-in-law that she would not be treated in such an undignified manner.

  ‘I do not wish her to go. She is useful to me. Until I learn to speak English I must have someone who speaks German with me. You cannot imagine how difficult it would be.’

  ‘I cannot imagine!’ cried the Princess Dowager. ‘My dear Charlotte, this happened to me, but I had the good sense to accept it as the natural course of events.’

  This conversation had taken place in German which George understood better than Lord Bute; but it was obvious to the latter that the tempers of both ladies were rapidly rising.

  Then Charlotte went to the King and lifting her eyes appealingly to him said: ‘I ask this favour. Allow me to keep Mademoiselle von Schwellenburg.’

  George was in a dilemma. He did not wish to displease his mother; yet he did not see how he could refuse such a simple request from his bride. In fact he was on her side. He could not see why the tiresome Schwellenburg should not receive a warning that she must change her attitude – and then all would be well.

  It was the solution. He smiled delightedly and his smile included Lord Bute who, he was sure, with masculine perspicacity, would be on his side. This was a quarrel between two women; and he felt as a husband he must support his wife, although it would be going against his mother.

  He wavered for a moment and the Princess Dowager was about to speak when he said: ‘Mademoiselle von Schwellenburg shall stay and I know that the Queen will warn her.’

  ‘But …’ began the Princess.

  ‘I will warn her,’ said Charlotte quickly.

  ‘Yes … yes …’ went on the King. ‘You must tell her that if she does not behave er … becomingly … she will have to go.’

  ‘This will not do,’ began the Princess Dowager, but Lord Bute was flashing a warning at her.

  The King spoke with dignity. ‘But Your Highness must understand that I have said it shall be so.’ He looked at the clock. ‘And now I think our attendants are waiting to assist at our dressing.’

  It was dismissal. Even the Princess Dowager had to accept it.

  Lord Bute, in recognition of the King’s order, gave his arm to the Princess Dowager and there was nothing they could do but retire.

  *

  ‘Can you believe it!’ cried the Princess when they were alone in her apartments. ‘What can have happened to George?’

  ‘My dearest, you are always telling him that he must be a king. At last he has taken the admonition to heart and become one.’

  ‘You mean he is going to begin setting himself up against us?’

  ‘I saw that in his face today, which tells me that he wishes it known – to us – that in future if there is a difference of opinion between us, he will make the decision.’

  ‘That gives me great cause for alarm.’

  ‘It is a change, of course; and one of which we must be wary. We must, however, make sure that in future we all agree.’

  ‘But if he is going to imagine that he is the King and his word is law …’

  ‘The last king believed all that, yet I have heard it said that it was really Queen Caroline who ruled.’

  ‘It was true.’

  ‘Yet George II thought he did. Why should George III be denied such a pleasant delusion?’

  ‘You are so clever.’

  ‘We must be, my dearest, and we must not have any repetition of that Schwellenburg scene.’

  ‘But I have determined that the woman shall go.’

  ‘Your Highness must forget that determination. The woman is of no importance.’

  ‘But she is going to guide Charlotte …’

  ‘My dear, we must see that Charlotte is not important either.’

  ‘The Queen!’

  ‘Yes, the Queen. She has been brought over here to fill the royal nurseries. If she does that she will be well occupied. The King does not care for women’s interference. He has said so often enough to me. We will foster that and in the meantime keep our eyes on Charlotte.’

  The Princess nodded. ‘You go on influencing the King, my love; and leave Charlotte to me.’

  *

  The Princess Dowager had presented the Queen with several new women.

  ‘Because, my dear Charlotte, you set such store on having Germans about you, I am sending you Miss Pascal. She came from Germany and has served me well. I give her to you.’

  Charlotte, flushed with victory over the retention of Schwellenburg, accepted gracefully. Then there was Miss Laverock and Miss Vernon.

  ‘All excellent women,’ declared the Princess Dowager. And she believed that they and Miss Chudleigh would do very good service in the Queen’s household – for the Princess Dowager, of course; for the chief duty of these women – while they went about the tasks allotted to them no doubt by the dominating Schwellenburg – was to spy for the Princess and report to her all that Queen Charlotte did and said.

  Lord Bute – as always – was right. There should be no more disagreements with the King. And if the Princess and Lord Bute knew exactly what was happening in the Queen’s private apartments they would be able to shape their policy so much more easily; and at the same time make sure that the upstart little Queen should be nothing but the mother of the new royal family.

  The Great Commoner

  THE DOWAGER PRINCESS Augusta had been right when the thought had occurred to her that Lord Bute was more interested in the King than in herself. She had always regarded him as a husband; and it seemed natural that he should be absorbed – almost completely absorbed – in the welfare of her son, for she was sure that the family spirit had so engulfed Lord Bute that he thought of George as his son. Everything he did for George was for George’s good – and as he had pointed out to her, what was for George’s good was for theirs; for their one aim was to see George reigning over his kingdom, happy and secure.

  He had talked to her at length about the monarchy, and they were in complete agreement.

  As Lord Bute saw it, a king should be the supreme ruler. This had been the case in the past. Charles II had had great power. And what a statesman he had proved himself to be – conducting secret policies with the French behind his government’s back and, Lord Bute was quick to point out, to the great advantage not only himself but his country. But then Charles was a Stuart – as Lord Bute himself was, and although he could not claim direct connection, the name being the same, the link must be there.

  Lord Bute would like to see George absolute monarch.

  ‘But there is the Constitution,’ the Princess had pointed out.

  ‘Made for William the Dutchman. Naturally, the people wanted it then. The man was a foreigner; and they had just turned out James II, who lacked the intelligence of his brother. And after that there was Anne, who was a woman, and then they looked to the House of Hanover. Neither of the two previous Georges cared about England, and the English sensed that. But now it is changed. Our George is an Englishman – born and bred in England. It is time this country returned to true kingship.’

  ‘And the Government?’

  ‘Ah, my love has put her finger on the trouble. While we have Mr Pitt at the head of affairs this country will be ruled by its government and not by its king.’

  ‘And what do you propose, my love?’

  ‘To rid ourselves of Mr Pitt.’

  ‘The people’s idol?’

  ‘The people quic
kly forget their idols.’

  ‘And you think Mr Pitt will agree to retire?’

  ‘Mr Pitt, my dearest, must be brought to such a pass that he can do nothing else but retire.’

  ‘It will need very careful handling.’

  Lord Bute smiled at her. ‘Shall we call on His Majesty.’

  The Princess nodded, and rising, slipped her arm through that of the lover.

  *

  Both the Princess and Lord Bute were aware of the King’s new determination when they found him at his desk studying state papers.

  He greeted them warmly, embracing them both.

  ‘Your Majesty will forgive this intrusion on your time,’ murmured Lord Bute.

  ‘My dear friend, I am always happy to see you.’

  ‘And your mother, I trust?’ asked the Princess.

  ‘My dearest mother, you know it.’

  ‘The Princess and I have been talking of the war,’ said Bute.

  George frowned. He hated wars. Killing I he thought. Men who are strong one moment and killed – or even worse, maimed – the next. A terrible price to pay for power. Yet, Mr Pitt had assured him that it was necessary for the welfare of the people.

  ‘We were saying,’ added his mother, ‘What a blessing it would be if there could be an end to all this bloodshed.’

  ‘I am in absolute agreement with you.’

  ‘I fear,’ said Bute sadly, ‘that Mr Pitt has other ideas.’

  ‘Mr Pitt is of course a great statesman,’ said the King. ‘I hear that he is known throughout the country – and abroad – as the greatest Englishman.’

  ‘Yes. The Great Commoner,’ laughed Bute. ‘I admit that at one time he did good work for the country, as Your Majesty and I have often agreed. Success goes to a man’s head. It was the same with the Duke of Marlborough. Resounding victories throughout Europe. Blenheim, Oudenarde, Malplaquet. Wonderful! Wonderful! And all adding greatly to the glory of England – and the Duke. And Pitt? Victories in North America and India … an Empire no less. But the trouble with these heroes is that they do not know when to stop.’

  ‘You mean,’ said George, ‘that first they fight for the glory of England and then for their own.’

  ‘Your Majesty has a pretty turn of wit. Yes, that is what I mean.’

  ‘And you think that the war is no longer necessary?’

  ‘I think Mr Pitt should be ordered to bring his war to an end.’

  The Princess gasped. Was dear Lord Bute a little too blunt? Dare one attack the Great Commoner in such terms? What if it were passed on to the man himself? Would he turn and attempt to flick Lord Bute from his path as he might a fly? Oh, but Lord Bute was no lightweight to be flicked aside. Might it not be Pitt himself who would come off worst from such an encounter?

  Still, it was against their policy to emerge too far out into the open.

  George was astonished at such comment on the great Mr Pitt, for he himself, the King no less, was overwhelmed in the presence of the Great Commoner who, although he always showed the utmost respect for the Crown – in fact he was apt to grovel before royalty – always conveyed the impression that he was the first minister and real leader of the country’s policy, in other words the ruler, not King George.

  ‘I think,’ went on Bute, ‘that Your Majesty should study the possibilities of an early peace. The French are eager for it, and I am sure Your Majesty will agree with me that it could be brought about without any loss of face.’

  ‘I should like to see an end to the war,’ the King agreed. ‘The thought of all the bloodshed appals me.’

  ‘I knew that Your Majesty, Her Highness and I would be of one mind,’ murmured Bute.

  Then, with the Princess, he sat with the King at his table and they studied the state papers together.

  The Princess noted that although the King listened to Bute, he no longer deferred to him in quite the old way; and when they left she said: ‘There is a change in George. It is becoming more and more apparent.’

  ‘It is inevitable,’ replied Bute complacently. ‘Each day he becomes more and more aware that he is King.’

  ‘He is not so ready to agree.’

  ‘We must be more sure of our arguments. He is still very inexperienced.’

  ‘And Pitt …? Do you think we were perhaps a little too frank?’

  Bute’s smile grew even more complacent. ‘When George came to the throne Pitt was supreme. He had proved his policies. He was the people’s idol and the late King believed that he could do no wrong. He was the most successful politician in Europe. Such success breeds envy, and there are many powerful men in the Government whose greatest desire is to see Pitt expelled from it.’

  ‘And you have talked with these men?’

  ‘I have … sounded them, shall we say. Bedford, Hardwicke, Grenville and … Fox. They are all on the side of peace. In fact they are ready to range themselves against Pitt.’

  ‘Fox!’

  ‘Yes, my love. Fox himself.’

  The Princess was satisfied. Of course her dear lord knew what he was doing.

  With these men on his side he would have a good chance of ousting Pitt and with their help achieve that for which he had cautiously and assiduously worked even before George had come to the throne.

  Lord Bute – with Fox as his lieutenant – would rule England.

  *

  As William Pitt’s carriage took him through the London streets he was recognized and acclaimed. The Great Commoner was the people’s idol. He had brought an Empire to England and prosperity overseas meant prosperity at home. There was a war, yes; and wars meant taxation and loss of lives; but there was work to be had and even a soldier at war was better than a soldier starving in the streets.

  Pitt acknowledged the cheers with somewhat disdainful dignity. Although he was almost obsequious to the King, he could be almost contemptuous of the people in the streets; they did not seem to resent this. He was the great Pitt and the more he showed his contempt for them the more they seemed to respect him. His hawklike eyes stared straight ahead and he sat very straight, so that he never failed to appear the tall and imposing figure he was. He was immaculate in full dress coat and tie wig as usual; and looked as scrupulously well dressed on any occasion as he did on this visit to the King.

  He guessed the reason for the King’s summons was connected with the French desire for peace negotiations; and he had made up his mind that he was not going to give way to the inexperienced young man who happened to be the King. He would have to explain to him patiently why, in his opinion, peace was undesirable at this stage; and being Pitt he had no doubt that he could do so effectively. He had enemies, of course, the chief of whom was Lord Bute, who had, at one time, declared his support of Pitt’s policies. But Bute was an ambitious man and his peculiar relations with the Princess Dowager – but perhaps one should not say peculiar at all, for they were, alas for the morality of the country, all too common – had doubtless given him the notion that he could lead the King whither he, Bute, desired him to go.

  Bute must be taught a lesson in this respect.

  The King received his minister with the respect which he had always accorded to him. Pitt bowed low; they exchanged a few courteous pleasantries and then the King broached the subject, to discuss which he had sent for his minister.

  ‘I have been considering the French offer of a negotiated peace,’ said the King. ‘It would seem that the country is growing tired of war and some of my ministers are of the opinion that now is the time to let counsels take the place of arms.’

  ‘Your Majesty has considered that the nation has never known trade as it does now?’

  ‘I know,’ said the King firmly, ‘that many of my ministers feel the burden of taxation on certain members of the community to be too great.’

  ‘Your Majesty will doubtless explain to them that all progress must be paid for.’

  ‘We have had great benefits and I am the first to admit this. We have done well and now perhaps is th
e time to call a halt.’

  ‘Your Majesty can we be sure that the French are sincere?’

  ‘We can attempt to find out.’

  ‘It is my belief that if we are to have peace with France, Sire, it is not for us to negotiate terms but to dictate them, and they should be in our favour.’

  ‘They would yield all North America and a large share of their Indian interests; and all they ask is possession of Minorca. This could be called terms decidedly in our favour.’

  Pitt was momentarily silent. The war was his war. He had conceived it; he had carried it through; and he saw it as the answer to England’s problems. When he had taken charge, England had been a little island off the coast of Europe with a population of only seven million and there were twenty-seven million Frenchmen just across the Channel. British stock was low; it was linked with that of Hanover through its kings; Pitt had believed that if some drastic action were not promptly taken the country would sink to such insignificance that it could scarcely have been called a country. It might even have been a dependency of France. Then he had outlined his plans to the late King; he had been given power, and what had happened? He had turned the sphere of influence from Europe, where he knew no great gains could ever be firmly consolidated and had cast his eyes on wider horizons. He had dreamed of an Empire and had created one. In a few short years England had risen from an inconsiderable little kingdom to the greatest power in the world. The people in the streets knew this. They were singing Rule Britannia and Hearts of Oak; they walked with pride and dignity; and commerce was thriving in the City of London. The people of London had no doubt who had brought this about. It was Pitt who had wiped out nepotism, who had shown the King that armies could not be led by princes, simply because they were his sons. Pitt had carved out an Empire and the country was reaping the benefits of prosperity.