by Jean Plaidy
‘Well, well, where is he? Eh? Eh?’ demanded the King.
‘Your Majesty, the Prince is not in his apartments.’
Frederick waited for no more. He slipped out of the drawing room and out of the Lodge and made his way with all speed to that remote spot in the gardens. It was dark now but there was enough light from the moon to show Frederick the two figures embracing.
‘George! George!’ cried Frederick. ‘For God’s sake … George.’
The lovers parted and George, seeing his brother, cried: ‘Good God, Fred, what is it?’
The King is demanding your presence immediately. He wants a game of chess.’
George cursed chess vehemently and stopped himself in time cursing the King. Harriot, trembling with anxiety, looked appealingly at her lover.
‘There’s nothing to be done but return with all speed and play this game of chess,’ muttered the Prince. ‘Here, Fred, take this.’ It was Lord Maiden’s greatcoat with which he had disguised himself. He turned to Harriot and embraced her warmly. George would be a lover in any circumstances, thought Frederick admiringly. Even now while he was on the verge of exposure he was charmingly protective to the lady. ‘Fred, see that Miss Vernon reaches her apartments in safety.’ Frederick bowed. If he were involved in this affair he would not blame George. It had always been thus between them. They had always protected each other, at whatever cost to themselves, and took loyalty for granted.
So with Lord Maiden’s overcoat over one arm Frederick conducted the lady to a back staircase of the maids’ house while George hurried to the Queen’s drawing room where the King was impatiently glowering at the chess board.
‘Takes you a long time to get here, eh, what?’ He looked into the flushed face of his son. The elegant boots were just a little muddy. Many eyes noted this. There was a whispering behind fans, a few quietly spoken words among the attendants.
The Prince had for some time been ogling the only pretty maid of honour in his mother’s entourage and already someone had reported seeing Prince Frederick sneaking out of the King’s presence to warn his brother and later conducting the lady back to her apartments.
The Prince played a reckless game of chess which gave the King the advantage. But the latter did not enjoy this. What’s the young blade up to, eh, what? the King asked himself.
And all through the household they were whispering of the Prince’s love affair.
The next day in the same spot the Prince successfully accomplished the seduction of Miss Vernon; but by this time the affair was palace gossip.
*
Harriot Vernon went about her duties with the rapt expression of one who may have lost her virtue but had gained the whole world; and when the Prince of Wales was not seeking private interviews with the lady he was in his apartments writing verses to her.
How could Charlotte have allowed such a charmer to appear in the Prince’s orbit, people were asking each other. Because she was about to give birth? Nonsense, this little operation was as normal to her as breathing. Still, she had slipped, and there could be a real scandal if the reckless Harriot should prove to be fertile as well as romantic.
Schwellenburg, bustling about her apartments, tending the frogs and toads of which she made pets and kept in glass cages, grumbled to herself about the Prince of Wales. ‘Ah,’ she muttered, ‘you willen zees tricks do.’ And she tapped her snuff box and listened to the croaking which followed. She was proud of having taught her little darlings to croak at the tap of a snuff box. ‘They vise little frogs,’ she would say. ‘Very vise frogs. Good little toads … not like the Prince of Vales. Must talk to the Queen of bad Prince, little frog. Not talk to self.’
And she did talk to the Queen. The Prince of Wales was having a love affair with that wicked young woman Harriot Vernon whom she had never wanted in the royal apartment, and p.p.—2 if the Queen had listened to her would never have been there.
Charlotte was not fond of Schwellenburg, but one must have someone to whom one could speak German now and then. Schwellenburg had been with her ever since she had come to England and in any case was a habit now. The woman was arrogant; she made trouble; she was the most unpopular servant in the royal household … yet she remained in the Queen’s service, bullying the Queen’s women, disgusting them with her ‘pets’, and insisting on their playing long and tedious games of cards with her.
But she was under the delusion that the Queen could not do without her and that she was in charge of the Queen’s household.
‘Harriot Vernon is in dream … forget all … remember nothing. Makes loff with Herr George … in the gardens and in his bed. Disgusting.’
The Queen said: ‘There is some mistake.’
‘No mistake,’ contradicted Schwellenburg with the boldness of an old servant. ‘Haf seen with self’s eyes.’
Charlotte thought: ‘Of course it is true. And what will the King say? There’ll be trouble … great trouble. Of course he is growing up … and so handsome. Surely there never was any young man as handsome as my George. It’s not his fault exactly. He is so attractive. Oh, why doesn’t he tell me what he is doing. He never comes to see me as a son should to his mother. He confides in Frederick … and perhaps William … But never his mother. This must not come to the ears of the King.’
She was loath to believe the affair had gone very far. He was a boy still. He may have been casting eyes on the girl; but that was as far as it had gone, she was sure.
She sent for her son, who came reluctantly and looked a little sulky, she noticed. He had the Hanoverian rather heavy jaw which, unless the Prince was smiling, gave a sullen look to an otherwise charming face.
‘I don’t see enough of you,’ she told him. ‘I daresay you are very occupied.’
‘Your Majesty knows the plans laid down by my father. It gives us little time to do anything but follow his orders.’
Oh, yes, he was resentful. She wondered whether she dare tell the King that the boys were growing up and should no longer be treated as children. When had George ever taken any notice of her? When she had first come to England George’s mother, the Dowager Princess of Wales, had made it very clear that no interference was expected from her. And George had supported his mother. Bear healthy children and that is all that will be expected of you. And they could not say she had not fulfilled their expectations. But listen to her advice on any subject, treat her like an intelligent being? Never. The only place in which she had any power was her own intimate circle. She could dismiss her maids; she could go over the accounts and find them too great; she could make her economies and take her snuff and look after the younger children. There her duty ended. That had been made clear to her. So it was no use her thinking she could speak to the King about George.
But she could speak to George – and she was going to find out if these rumours were true.
‘So you have no time to visit your mother,’ she said wistfully.
‘Very little, Madam, very little.’
How haughty he was and how she loved him! She had difficulty in assuring herself that this glorious young Apollo was the fruit of her plain little body. She and George between them had produced this beautiful creature! Stolid George and plain Charlotte. It seemed incredible to her. If he would confide in her, if he would show a little affection … she would do everything in her power to give him what he wanted.
But he showed so clearly that he had no need of her. Yet she would have to prevent his quarrelling with his father. He would have to be made to realize that even he must not indulge in a love affair under their very noses.
‘You find life a little … monotonous?’ she asked.
He inclined his head and suppressed a yawn.
‘I have often thought,’ went on the Queen, ‘that our maids of honour lead very dull lives.’
‘I agree with Your Majesty,’ said the Prince. ‘How dull merely to be one of a formal procession from the presence chamber to the drawing room and never allowed to speak unless one is spoken
to.’
‘Some may have nothing worthy to say.’
The Prince had warmed to his subject. ‘Poor ladies! What a life! To make an occasional one of large hoops in a royal coach. I believe they make two new court suits a year and now and then appear in a side box in a royal play.’
‘But she does not have to pay for her seat at the theatre,’ the Queen reminded him.
He looked at her slyly.
‘Save gold, which in her own opinion
Alone could rival snuff’s dominion.
he thought. Trust his mother to think a free seat compensated for a good deal.
‘I agree, Your Majesty, that a maid of honour goes to concerts and plays … and oratorios free. Your Majesty will no doubt remind me that she does not have to pay her physician and gets her medicines for nothing.’
‘You have forgotten one important thing.’
‘No doubt, for the acts of a maid of honour formed no part of my education.’
’I will tell you one,’ replied the Queen. ‘Perhaps you have recently had experience of this. She may flirt with Princes and go to meet them in the moonlight. Is that also … free?’
The Prince was for once discountenanced, and his mother was certain now that Schwellenburg’s hints were true. The Prince had been meeting Harriot Vernon in the moonlight. Heaven knew how far this affair had gone, but if it reached the King’s ears His Majesty would be furious. She was terrified of the King’s anger; it took him so oddly nowadays and she was always afraid of where it would end.
She must act quickly and for once she dismissed the Prince. It was usually he who pleaded his duty to the King and departed as speedily as he could.
As soon as he had left her she sent for Harriot Vernon. The girl stood before her – beautiful, radiant and – guilty.
‘I have sent for you, Miss Vernon,’ said the Queen, ‘to tell you that your services are no longer required at Court.’
‘But Your Majesty …’
The Queen looked surprised. ‘Call Madam von Schwellenburg,’ she commanded.
‘Your Majesty …’
‘I have said, call Madam von Schwellenburg.’
Schwellenburg, listening at the door, had little need to be called. She swept in.
‘Your Majesty calls of me,’ she said.
‘Miss Vernon is leaving us … at once,’ said the Queen. ‘Pray help her to leave … immediately.’
‘Vill see to selfs,’ promised Schwellenburg, and Harriot had no recourse but to leave with her, and the German woman stood over her while she packed her bags and herself ordered the carriage.
Within an hour of that interview with the Queen Harriot Vernon had left Court.
Encounter in Hyde Park
GEORGE MOURNED THE departure of Harriot for a few days and then found a new mistress. He did not have to seek far. He soon proved what he had never doubted; not only was he extremely personable and completely charming, but as he was also the Prince of Wales he was irresistible. More than this his youthful exuberance, his discovery that the most exciting and alluring prospect in life was women made him completely fascinating to that sex; and as he embarked on the lightest of love affairs with the conviction that his partner in the adventure was the one woman in the world to whom he could remain faithful for the rest of his life, even shorn of the trappings of royalty, he would have been a successful lover.
The Queen had given birth to another son, christened Octavius, who was not so strong as his brothers and sisters and almost immediately, to her consternation, she was pregnant again.
It had been impossible to keep the scandal of Harriot Vernon and the inclinations of the Prince from his father, who declared that his eldest son’s conduct gave him many a sleepless night.
But George was impervious to scandal. He had discovered the whole meaning of life; he reiterated constantly to his brothers, equerries and anyone interested that if his parents were too mean to give him his own establishment, no one was going to prevent him living his own life.
His confidant continued to be his brother Frederick who listened avidly to accounts of George’s adventures and began to have a few of his own.
The awkward situations which often accompanied these adventures bothered the Prince very little. There were scandals about him; he had discovered a taste for women older than himself – even Harriot had been a few months older – and his fancy often alighted on those who were married. This could mean jealous husbands, for there were some men who failed to appreciate the honour done to the family by the Prince’s favouring one of its women. There was no lack of aspirants for his favours and this meant that envy prevailed among those whom he passed over towards those whom he favoured.
After the dullness of his boyhood he found life full of excitement – and he determined to enjoy it.
There were several people who had their eyes on him – apart from women. It was natural that politicians who were out of favour with the King and were extremely ambitious should have the notion of forming a rival faction. It would not be the first time there had been a King’s party and a Prince’s party; and now that the latter was growing up the time seemed to have come to make plans. Moreover, no one could deny that the Prince was intelligent. There had never yet been such a cultured member of this branch of the Royal Family. The Prince had taken to learning with alacrity. Perhaps because there had been so little excitement in his boyhood he had sought it in books. The fact remained that he was well versed in the classics, was a good linguist, had a ready wit and was clearly of a very different intellectual calibre from his father.
One man who was watching him with the greatest interest was Charles James Fox. Fox was perhaps one of the most brilliant men in politics and it was galling to him to see the King and Lord North throwing away the American colonies through policies which, it seemed obvious to Fox, were misguided and foolish.
‘The King,’ Fox had said, ‘lowers his head like a cow and goes on chewing the cud, regurgitating over and over again: “They’ll come to their senses.” If only he would come to his.’
Fox was thirty years old – leader of the Whigs, distrusted by the King – and not only for his political opinions. Fox knew the story of Sarah Lennox. He could remember the consternation in the family when the King’s marriage to Charlotte was announced. His mother had been Sarah Lennox’s sister and the whole family had naturally hoped the King would marry Sarah. That it was largely Sarah’s own fault that he had not did not relieve the family anguish. Sarah was a foolish girl – her conduct now was proving that; but she could have been Queen of England with a little careful manoeuvring, for the Foxes would have been a match for the Dowager Princess of Wales and Lord Bute at any time. But Sarah had lost her chance and George had married Charlotte. And this was something for which George could not forgive the Foxes. Every time he set eyes on Sarah’s nephew he thought of Sarah, and quite clearly was resentful because he had had to take the plain dull Charlotte instead.
‘Why he should dislike me,’ Charles James told his friends, ‘would be inconceivable but for the fact that to do so is in accordance with accepted human behaviour. I, with my parents and the rest of the family, would have been delighted to see Sarah as Queen.’
But the King was a simple man and not accustomed to delving into the innermost recesses of his mind to understand his own motives. He merely said: ‘I can’t abide that fellow Fox.’ And he never asked himself if his dislike had anything to do with the loss of Sarah.
Charles James knew that he would never be the leader of the House if the King could help it, and although the King was dependent on his ministers, the King’s favour was of the greatest importance to the members of his government.
So the wily Fox had turned his eyes to the young man who was just emerging into the limelight. If the King would have none of him, why not cultivate the Prince? Why not educate the Prince in politics. Why not revive the old custom – so prevalent in the Hanoverian dynasty – of setting son against father. There could be, as
there had been before, the King’s party and that of the Prince of Wales; and as every wise man knew it was more intelligent to attach one’s wagon to the rising than to the setting star.
The Prince was breaking out of his shell; he was indulging in amatory adventures to the tolerant amusement of the cynical members of the Court, and although a small part of these rumours reached the ears of his parents and their staid supporters, very little could be done to prevent the princely exploits. The Prince was as much a prisoner now as they could make him – still he managed his secret intrigues. But when he was eighteen they could scarcely treat him as a child of twelve. The people would never allow that. And George was only a few months from his eighteenth birthday.
When he did appear in public the people cheered him wildly. George was all they expected a prince to be. With his powdered hair setting off the pink and white of his complexion and making his eyes look more blue than ever he was indeed a Prince Charming. Silver buckled shoes, coats of blue and pink satin, white buckskin breeches … He was a joy to behold. And while he was young and handsome the people would love him; and was it not always the case that after a period of Puritan rule the people adored a rake? And young as he was, George was showing all signs of fast becoming that.
‘Reflect,’ said Charles James Fox to his friend Edmund Burke, ‘how the people welcomed the restoration of Charles the Second. How they adored him when he promenaded in St James’s Park, a mistress on either side and more following behind. And how they loathed poor dull Noll Cromwell because he was a faithful husband and a Puritan. So do they feel about His virtuous but oh so dull and just a little stupid Majesty.’
Burke agreed with Fox, but Fox was not going to leave it at that. He had an idea and like most of his ideas it was a brilliant one.
It was natural that since the King showed no favour towards him he should be on good terms with those who had a grudge against His Majesty and his mind immediately went to the Cumberlands.
Henry, Duke of Cumberland had, under the influence of his Duchess, the lady whose eyelashes had brought her fame and fortune, smarted under the King’s neglect. The King did not wish to see his brother Henry. Whenever he thought of him he remembered the disgusting affair with Lady Grosvenor, and phrases from those very revealing letters which Cumberland had written to the lady, and which betrayed such eroticism as the King had scarcely known existed, haunted his nightmares in which to his dismay women figured so prominently. No, the King could not bear to see Cumberland. It was different with his brother William, Duke of Gloucester, who had made another mésalliance, it was true, by marrying Lady Waldegrave, but although this lady was illegitimate and a milliner’s daughter, Gloucester’s life was comparatively respectable. Moreover, the King had always been very fond of Gloucester.