The Third George: (Georgian Series) Read online

  ‘Even when I speak English proficiently we shall speak in German, shall we not, when we are alone together. We shall make it our intimate language.’

  He nodded. ‘Although you must work hard at your English.’

  ‘Oh, George, I will.’

  ‘I think my grandfather made a great mistake in not speaking it well. Now … the plans for the ninth.’

  She smiled cosily. How he liked making plans! He would go to such trouble to arrange the guests for the most informal ball even when he must have very important state matters on his mind. There was the affair of Mr Pitt for one thing.

  She ventured: ‘There is much talk of Mr Pitt.’

  He frowned. ‘Oh, he is no longer in the cabinet.’

  ‘I did learn that there is a great deal of feeling in the City about his resignation.’

  ‘Who told you this?’

  ‘Oh … I do not remember. It is often talked of. It seems a pity. He is a great man, they say; and it is sad that his talents should not be used in the service of the nation.’

  George was not having this. He must make her understand that he had no intention of talking politics with her. It was not a woman’s place to interfere. He had seen too much of women’s meddling. He was beginning to think that his mother interfered too much; but she was old and wise and he had always listened to her. But he was not going to have Charlotte becoming another Princess Dowager.

  Queens and mistresses of kings had often sought to dominate them. It was not going to be said that George III was so dominated … except by his mother when he was young.

  George was beginning to think that one day he might have to tell his mother that he would make up his own mind. So he did not want Charlotte beginning to interfere.

  He said shortly: ‘That matter is settled. It is of no interest to you. I will show you the route the Lord Mayor’s Show will take.’ He spread a map on the table and Charlotte was immediately absorbed. It was like the old days with Madame de Grabow. Now she followed George’s finger as it traced the route.

  ‘And where shall we be?’ asked Charlotte.

  George had turned a faint pink and she wondered why.

  He stammered as he answered: ‘There … there is a house opposite Bow Church in Cheapside where it is possible to get a fine view of the Lord Mayor’s Show. Its owners have invited us to see it from their house.’

  ‘How strange,’ murmured Charlotte.

  ‘It is not at all strange,’ replied George, almost too vehemently. ‘It is a very fine house and it is in fact … most suitable. There are balconies from which we can see everything in ease and comfort. And these people are Quakers. I … I think the Quakers are very fine people indeed. I … I have always felt that this was a religion … had I not been king of this realm … which I could have followed.’

  He was looking at her almost defiantly, and she said: ‘You must tell me more of this Quaker religion. You have known many Quakers, I suppose.’

  George grew a shade pale and, turning, went to the window and looked out.

  He said in a muffled voice: ‘My position makes it necessary for me to meet many of my subjects.’

  The Queen was puzzled. What was the reason for this strange vehemence and embarrassment? Was it because he was asking her to see the procession from a house which he did not consider suitable for a queen? Or was it because he really felt strongly about becoming a Quaker? Of course that was impossible.

  How restricted we are, thought Charlotte, and she saw poor Christina’s face with the sad expression which had been there from the time her sister had heard that her marriage would not take place.

  Poor Christina! There was no freedom for a princess … or a king for that matter.

  ‘George,’ she said, ‘do you feel strongly about this Quaker matter?’

  Her words did nothing to ease the tension. ‘Of course not,’ he said sharply; and then: ‘I have matters to which I must attend.’

  He left her at the breakfast table, wondering why his mood should suddenly have changed.

  It was almost as though he were hiding some secret.

  *

  Charlotte was being dressed for the Lord Mayor’s Show. It was a state occasion so she would be most splendidly attired. Her women had dressed her hair in what they called coronation ringlets; these were crowned with a circle of diamonds. Her gown was silk and gold and silver brocade; her stomacher glittered with diamonds and she was not displeased with the reflection which looked back at her. Such clothes could take the plainness out of the most ordinary face; and Charlotte was always pleased to win the admiration of spectators.

  The little page boy, dressed in scarlet and silver, was standing by waiting to carry her train, and Elizabeth Chudleigh was chattering away to the Marchioness of Lorne; they did not know that Charlotte was understanding a little more English every day.

  ‘So it’s to be the house of the Quaker,’ laughed Elizabeth Chudleigh.

  ‘Well, he has been said to have a special fondness for them.’

  ‘This is the Barclays. Very rich bankers, the Barclays. Prosperous simplicity is the order of the day. I’m sure H.M. is glad that the house chosen was not in St James’s Market.’

  ‘Would Hannah’s family have had him?’

  The women tittered together. How strange! thought Charlotte. Had she translated that conversation correctly? She was not sure; but George himself had said something about Quakers.

  What was this Quaker mystery? There was something she was sure. Perhaps she would find out today.

  ‘They say the people are massing in the streets,’ went on Elizabeth. ‘Pitt’s supporters are all out. I don’t think they are going to send up happy cheers for the Favourite, do you?’

  ‘When have they ever?’

  ‘Never. But with Mr Pitt riding in the procession they could get really offensive about Master Bute and Her R.H.’

  Pitt! Bute! The Princess! Charlotte could guess what these frivolous women were talking about.

  She herself disliked the Princess Dowager and was sure her mother-in-law disliked her in return. It was rather disgraceful that she should be so talked about on account of Lord Bute.

  What did the King think? Whatever he thought he kept it to himself. He was very fond of them both – more fond, Charlotte suspected, than of her.

  She smiled to herself. That was going to change. George was not going to remain his mother’s boy now that he was a husband.

  She had a suspicion that he might soon be a father, but she was not sure yet. When he was, everything would be changed. The important people in his life would be his wife, his sons and daughters – not his dominating mother and her paramour.

  Charlotte, glittering with diamonds, pink with the pleasure of contemplating the excitement of what was very possibly the case, left her apartments to take her place beside the King in the coach in which they would drive to the Quaker household from where they would see the show.

  *

  Pitt was reluctant to be a part of the procession, but Lady Hester was certain that he should.

  ‘If you don’t,’ she said, ‘the people will believe that you are ashamed to face them and in a day or so they will be saying that the lies Bute put about against you are true.’

  Pitt smiled. ‘They will have read my correction.’

  ‘Slander sticks,’ insisted Lady Hester, and Pitt had to agree that she was right.

  ‘But the banquet is to honour the King. I do not wish to bring about an uncomfortable situation by appearing.’

  ‘You should be there. I am certain of it. You must convince the people of the City that you are still one of them. You resigned because the cabinet did not agree with you. You accepted the pension and my title as just rewards for your work … and Heaven knows you deserve them. You have the future to think of, William. You must go.’

  So Pitt gave way and he and his brother-in-law, Lord Temple, joined the procession in their coach.

  *

  The Princess Dowag
er was deeply concerned about her lover. He would have to ride through the city and the people of London blamed him for the dismissal of Pitt.

  Bute assured her that he had taken precautions against any unpleasantness which might occur: ‘I have hired strong men to follow my coach and they will be on the spot when needed.’

  ‘So you expect trouble!’ cried the Princess Dowager.

  ‘Let us say that I always believe in being prepared for it.’

  The Princess shuddered. Since the resignation of Pitt, the temper of the public towards her and her lover had grown more hostile.

  In the past the people had sung songs about them, had contented themselves with whispered scandal. They had merely been silent when they rode through the streets. Now they had changed. They shouted after her carriage and she knew they did after Lord Bute’s, too. When she had last driven through certain streets placards had been waved before the coach so that she could not fail to see them. On them had been crudely drawn a jackboot and petticoat. Some of the people even carried the boot and petticoat. They shouted obscenities after her carriage.

  The petticoat was meant to represent her and the jackboot was a play on her lover’s name. He was John – therefore Jack – and Boot stood for Bute.

  The country was governed by Jackboot and Petticoat, called these people, and they were by no means reticent about the relationship they believed to exist between these two; nor did they hesitate to discuss it in lewd and lurid terms.

  The Princess shuddered.

  ‘I wish you were not riding in the procession,’ she said, but Bute only smiled at her. Of course he must be there. It was an occasion when all men of standing must be present. She need have no fear. He had arranged for protection from the mob should it be needed.

  Had he not always been able to take care of himself?

  *

  Charlotte sat in the state coach with the King. The journey from St James’s Palace to Cheapside was just over two miles, but although they had left the Palace at noon they were still on the way after three o’clock on account of the roads being so jammed with the people who had come to see the show; and because of the carriages, carts and sedans of the spectators the procession made slow progress. The people were able to come up to the coach and stare in at the King and Queen. George greeted them with warm, affectionate smiles; and Charlotte did her best to look pleasant.

  ‘God save the King … and the Queen!’ cried the people.

  About the state coach were the Grenadier Guards, the Horse Guards and the Yeomen of the Guard, all in their brilliant uniforms, making a show to delight the people. But just ahead of them was the coach in which the Princess Dowager was riding with her daughters, the Princesses Augusta and Caroline Matilda, and Charlotte could hear the shouts of derision which were hurled at that particular vehicle.

  ‘Where’s the Scotch Stallion?’ called a voice in the crowd. George heard it and his lips tightened. He did not like to hear his mother thus insulted; but it occurred to him that the relationship between Lord Bute and his mother was so close as to give rise to speculation. He refused to believe that they were anything but good friends; in his great desire to bring morality back to the Court he could not face any other conclusion. These were the two people to whom he was closest; he could not allow himself to believe they were living in a manner of which he would heartily disapprove. Therefore he preferred to believe the people were wrong, and it distressed him deeply.

  Moreover, he was thinking of Hannah. How could he help it when he was to be guest of Quakers? Perhaps he should have refused the Barclays’ offer of their home. But that would have aroused more comment than accepting it.

  The shadow of Hannah Lightfoot hung over him. Sometimes he remembered the biblical admonition: The sins ye do by two and two ye pay for one by one.

  He glanced sideways at Charlotte. She had no idea of his feelings. She must remain in ignorance. He was fond of her; he had forced himself to be fond of her because it was right and proper that he should be; he had forced himself to forget Sarah Lennox; but he could not shut Hannah Lightfoot out of his mind, and today he could not stop himself thinking of that ceremony of marriage through which he had gone when he and Hannah had stood before Dr Wilmot. It was a mock marriage. Hannah was already married to Isaac Axford. But Axford had no longer considered himself married to her because they had not seen each other for years and in any case they had been married at Dr Keith’s Marriage Mill which had since been declared illegal.

  At that time he and Hannah had believed their marriage to have been legal, and he could not get the thought of that marriage out of his head. It was going round and round, refusing to be dismissed; peeping out at him at odd moments like a mischievous sprite determined to ruin his peace of mind.

  Sometimes his head ached with thinking of it.

  Charlotte must not know. Charlotte would do as she was told. He was glad she could not speak English; that necessarily kept her apart. It was the wish of his mother and Lord Bute that she should not have any friends without their knowledge. They wanted to keep Charlotte in the background.

  And so did he.

  How slow was the journey! It was nearly four o’clock and they were only just turning into Cheapside.

  Nearly four hours since they had left the Palace!

  ‘I’m hungry,’ Charlotte was saying.

  The first of the coaches in which George’s uncle, the old Duke of Cumberland, was sitting must by now have reached the Barclays’ home; and after that was George’s Aunt Amelia and his brother the Duke of York, both with their separate coaches and servants. So many carriages and their retinues and after that there were George’s brothers William Henry and Frederick before the Princess Dowager and her daughters.

  Charlotte said: ‘What a lot of food the Lord Mayor will need to provide for us all.’

  ‘It will do them good,’ replied the King. ‘They were eager enough to sit down at our expense at the coronation.’

  *

  One of the Barclays had spread a red carpet on the pavement before the house, so that the King and Queen need not step on the cobbles.

  Charlotte, handed from the coach by the chamberlain, entered the house where one of the counting houses had been transformed into a parlour. On the stairs leading from this room the Barclay family were assembled to greet their Majesties. They looked very sombre in their grey Quaker costumes, for although palace servants had been sent to the house to show the family how to conduct themselves in the presence of royalty, Mr Barclay had said that it would be against his principles to change his dress or manners. He respected the King but the only one he could bow down to was God.

  Charlotte murmured in German that she could not reply in English to Mr Barclay’s loyal speech of welcome but the King was immediately behind her and he expressed their joint pleasure; he seemed very moved by the reception he received from these good people.

  In the streets the crowd was calling for a glimpse of the King and the Queen and George said they should show themselves without delay, for the people had been waiting long enough.

  Tumultuous cheers filled the street when their Majesties appeared on the balconies; and after some minutes they went back into the house to receive the members of the family.

  The girls of the family looked charming in their austere garments and the King seemed deeply moved by the sight of them. There were seven daughters of the house and the King insisted on kissing them all as well as their mother. His emotion was noted by all who beheld him; and when one of the very young members of the household, a little girl of five, came forward, it was clear that the whole royal family was enchanted with her.

  The child was grave but not shy, and she stood before the King regarding him solemnly.

  ‘Tell me what you think of me,’ said George, who loved children.

  ‘I am thinking that thou art the King,’ said the child.

  ‘I hope I meet with your approval.’

  ‘I love the King,’ she said; then she lo
wered her eyes and added: ‘Though I am not allowed to love fine things.’

  ‘I am sure you are a good girl and do as you are told.’

  ‘My grandpa forbids me to curtsey to thee.’

  There were tears in the King’s eyes as he replied: ‘Then, my sweet child, I should not ask it of thee.’

  Everyone was moved and the Princess Dowager picked up the child and kissed her.

  ‘What an enchanting little creature!’ said the Duke of York, and looked as though he were about to bestow his kisses on the child.

  But her mother had taken her hand and was leading her away, as she feared too much adulation might turn the little girl’s head.

  There was a shout of applause as she left.

  Mrs Barclay was whispering to some of the ladies that there was a buffet in one of the counting rooms which had been turned into a dining room; and if the company could be prevailed upon to follow her she would lead them to it, for she was sure they must be very hungry. The King said he would not eat but would talk with Mr Barclay as there were many points about his doctrines that he would like to discuss with him; so the Queen with the rest of the company went into the counting-house dining room and partook of the refreshment.

  Meanwhile the King was deep in discussion with Mr Barclay and to the latter’s astonishment showed some considerable understanding of Mr Barclay’s faith.

  ‘I have always admired the Society of Friends,’ said the King, which delighted Mr Barclay, for there was always a certain danger in belonging to a minority; one could never be sure when those who did not share one’s views were going to make it an issue for complaint. So it was comforting to know that the King was in sympathy with them.

  Mr Barclay begged the honour of presenting the King with a copy of Apology, a book which set out clearly all the tenets of the Quaker faith.

  The King thanked him and accepted the book.

  ‘I assure you,’ he said, with emotion, ‘that I have always felt strong respect for your friendly society.’

  It was time to watch the Lord Mayor’s procession from one of the balconies – the purpose for which the King and Queen had come to the house; and they were conducted out by Mr and Mrs Barclay to the pleasure of the people who were waiting in the streets to cheer them.