Goddess of the Green Room: (Georgian Series) (16 page)

There had been trouble with John Wilkes who had fought for free speech and whose actions the King had deplored. ‘Wilkes for ever!’ was a cry which made his eyes bulge with anger; yet it had been heard very frequently in the streets – and in the nursery too.

One day the King and Queen had been together – the Queen at her tatting, the King making buttons, a pastime from which he derived great pleasure and which his people derided as an unsuitable occupation for a King – when the door was thrust open by a very bold young Prince of Wales, with Frederick beside him and little William bringing up the rear.

It was rebellion against the lack of freedom in the royal nursery; it was the Prince of Wales, heedless of consequences, in revolt.

‘Wilkes for ever!’ cried the young childish voices.

And as the King hurried to the door he was just in time to see William being dragged out of sight by his brothers.

It was difficult to know how to punish such an action, said the King. It showed an interest in affairs which was commendable; it showed certain spirit; but it showed disrespect to their parents, which was disrespect to the crown.

The Queen said she thought that as the incident had made His Majesty smile perhaps this was an occasion when he might consider being lenient.

Leniency was not always advisable, said the King ponderously, and went on to deliver a lecture on the bringing up of children.

The only time he ever explained his actions to her was when it concerned the household; if she dared mention state affairs he was displeased and Wilkes, with all the trouble he was making, was a state affair.

He said he would tell one of the tutors to do the caning. It would give it less weight than if delivered by the King himself.

He gives more thought to caning his children, thought the Queen resentfully, than he does to state affairs. And one of these days they’ll grow up to hate him.

It was not all punishment at Kew. The King was fond of his children and, it had to be admitted, proud of them. It was his pride in his eldest son which made him stern. The boy was too handsome, too clever, too spoiled by those who surrounded him – and his mother would be included in this if the King did not keep a firm hold on her – and for this reason he must be periodically caned, watched over and kept in constant restraint.

Both he and his brother Frederick were allowed to have their
little patch on which they were to grow wheat because the King wished to instil in them his own love of growing things. That they loathed it, particularly George who could not bear getting his hands soiled, was of no consequence. The wheat must be taken through its various processes and, when ready, made into bread which the King sampled with great discrimination, passing judgement on the boys’ skill as wheat growers.

William remembered George’s fury. ‘Are we farmers, then? What do people think of a king who believes that part of the training of kings is tilling the soil!’

Frederick agreed and so did William and Edward, Ernest, Augustus and Adolphus. The nursery was fast filling at that time.

There were happy occasions. William enjoyed those times when the public came to Kew. The King had made it a rule that sightseers should be admitted every Thursday; and the band used to play on the Green. The people loved to see the royal family, but in particular the children, and George bowed and smiled and received their admiration with such pleasure that he was the most popular member of the family.

Frederick, William and the other brothers looked on, content that this should be so. In fact they would have been astonished if anyone had not been delighted with George and would have thought there was something wrong with any person who could not appreciate their brilliant and flamboyant brother.

There was always plenty of music, for the King was eager that his sons should understand and love it. George had a quick ear and could sing well but William had little understanding of it and could not appreciate the genius of Handel of whom the family was particularly fond. The King would sit beating time while the musicians played and the children were all expected to remain in awed silence and to be able to talk knowledgeably with their father on the subject of oratorios and operas – which George could do with ease. William feared he was not very musical. In fact he was beginning to fear that he was not nearly as clever as his brothers. Fred was of course a pale shadow of George but he could joke with his elder brother and they could be quite witty together. William was too slow. Never mind. He knew he could never compete and so did they and they accepted this.

In any case he did not have to attend the Queen’s Drawing Rooms every Thursday which the two elder boys did because he was not considered old enough. George grimaced when he talked of these.

‘Lucky William,’ he said. ‘At least you escape that.’

And William grinned sheepishly but wished that he went all the same, because nothing seemed right unless he shared it with his brothers.

Cards were played but not by the Princes, of course, who must stand beside the Queen and receive the guests and then listen to the music which was played in the next room, with the King sending out instructions as to what was to be next on the programme.

It was all very dull, said George, and when he was King he would have everything very different.

William did enjoy some of the parties which their parents arranged for them. There were birthday entertainments when the most magnificent firework displays were given. William would stand beside his mother and be unable to suppress his excitement, especially when, because it was his birthday, there was to be a cake in the shape of a ship.

‘Where is our Sailor William, eh?’ the King would say, his eyes protruding, trying to be gay and jolly; but William was never sure of his father and he could not forget the canings – not his own, oddly enough, but those which had been administered to the Prince of Wales.

In those early days of his life Kew was like a little village with its houses scattered about the Green. There was the royal farm where the butter, milk and eggs for the royal household were produced. This was personally supervised by the King, who liked to take his children round to watch the butter being made – and to give a hand now and then – and to tickle the pigs with a long stick until they grunted and fell down in a state of bliss, little guessing that in a short time they would be served up as pork or bacon on the royal table.

There was Lady Charlotte Finch with her own house and her own little garden, the Queen’s house and the house where the children were lodged.

It was an orderly life. They must be up early for the King
believed in early rising; they must retire early too. The Queen herself superintended their baths which took place every morning at six. She and the King had a habit of looking in now and then during mealtimes so that the children were never sure when they were coming. The Queen sometimes looked on during lesson times, and their father worked out their curriculum.

That was how it was until William was eight years old and then his world was shattered. The Prince of Wales and his brother Frederick were to have a separate establishment as they were considered too old to be with the younger children. A governor was appointed for them and a new household, and William remained behind in the nursery.

Life was easier then. There were not so many inspections and rigorous laws. William had always realized that the important member of the family was his brother George who was destined to be King. Once he had left the nursery it could not be the same again.

They met now and then and George was unfailingly kind to his young brother. If William were in any difficulty he knew he only had to go to George.

When William was in his thirteenth year the King became very concerned. Nothing was going right. The trouble between England and the American colonies was working towards a climax. Burgoyne’s defeat at Saratoga had raised a storm in Parliament. The impossible was happening. The English were being beaten by the American Colonists, and there were rumours that France was sending aid to the rebels. The King conferred with his Prime Minister, Lord North. It was a question of ‘Conciliate or fight on’. Lord North wanted to resign, but the King would not let him; he wanted to show himself a true ruler and he believed that the best way of doing this was to preserve a stubborn resistance. He was anxious and uncertain and determined not to show it; and his mind was torn between events at home and abroad.

The Prince of Wales was sixteen and chafing against his lack of liberty. There were rumours of his sentimental attachments to women. There had actually been a scandal at Kew where he had been meeting a maid of honour in the gardens and had seduced
her – aided and abetted by his brother Frederick, and possibly William.

The Prince of Wales was contaminating his brothers.

‘We shall find we have a family of libertines,’ the King declared to the Queen. ‘Something will have to be done. Frederick has a will of his own. It’s William I fear for. Besides, he’s so young, but he’s constantly in their company. Why shouldn’t William go to sea?’

‘In due course,’ said the Queen placidly.

‘Who said anything about due course, eh? I mean now. Let him learn to be a sailor before George makes a knave of him.’

The Queen was horrified. ‘William is thirteen,’ she reminded the King.

‘I am aware of his age, but other boys go to sea at thirteen. It’s the right age. There’s no reason why he should be any different from anyone else.’

‘He… he’s only a child.’

‘Hm,’ replied the King not unkindly. She was a mother and wanted to keep them all children for ever. ‘Just the time. Thirteen. Right age for a midshipman.’

‘Midshipman!’

‘You don’t think he can be an admiral right away, do you? He’s going to start as a midshipman and he’ll work his way up. It’ll be a hard life, but hardship never hurt anyone. That brother of his has had everything too easy.’

‘He has often been somewhat severely caned,’ the Queen reminded him with some resentment.

‘And that has prevented his being worse than he is, you may depend upon it. It will do William a power of good. I shall go down to Portsmouth myself and see the Commissioner there.’

‘I would beg you to consider his age.’

‘Stuff,’ said the King; and added as though he had had a brilliant idea: ‘And nonsense.’

‘Thirteen years old and a Prince…’

‘Old enough, and princes have their duty more than ordinary men.’

The Queen knew that once the King had made up his mind nothing would make him shift it, for one of his most persistent characteristics was his obstinacy. She was alarmed for William
who, although disciplined, had enjoyed the luxuries of a royal existence. How would he fare as a sailor – for the King intended him to have no privileges. It was to be part of the rigorous training, the discipline, the hardening process.

My poor William! thought the Queen.

When William heard the news he was horrified.

He wanted to be a sailor, yes – but not yet. And when he had dreamed of going to sea it was as an admiral – at least a captain – not a midshipman.

He went at once to see his brother.

George was writing a letter to one of his sisters’ ladies-in-waiting. He greatly enjoyed writing letters for he had a way with a pen and he wept as he wrote of his emotions and undying affection for the lady.

He laid down his pen in concern at the sight of William’s face.

‘You haven’t heard, then, George, that they’re sending me to sea?’

‘Oh yes, but not for years.’

‘Soon. Our father has gone to Portsmouth to get it all arranged and I’m to go off at once.’

‘It’s madness,’ cried George. William felt better. One could rely on George.

‘But our father is determined.’

‘Our father is an ass, William,’ said George sadly. ‘Here am I a man… and treated like a boy. But no matter. You are in a worse plight. Sent to sea! How can that be? You’re not old enough to command.’

‘I’m to go as a midshipman.’

‘How dare he!
My
brother… a midshipman.’

‘I’ve been studying geometry for months and I’m to go… so he says. He doesn’t want me here.’

‘He’s afraid I’ll contaminate you. It’s time he saw what a fool he is. Everyone laughs at him. The Royal Button Maker! Farmer George! Are they names for a king? Stab me, William, if I were King you would not be forced to do anything unless you had a mind for it.’

‘I know, George, but you’re not King. He is. And he’s our father and he says I’m to go to sea.’

The brothers regarded each other sadly. They both knew they had to obey their King and father. As yet, thought George rebelliously. But although he might rage about the restrictions which hemmed him in the problem was William’s. Poor William, to be sent to sea like a common sailor.

What could he do to comfort him?

‘You’ll have leaves,’ he said. ‘And you can’t treat a sailor as a child. If he wants you to live like other people he’ll have to give you some freedom, won’t he? I’ll tell you what, William, when you are on leave we’ll meet. We’ll disguise ourselves. We’ll go to Ranelagh… We’ll enjoy life.’

George could always comfort him. Listening, William tried to think ahead to those leaves for only by doing so could he forget temporarily what had to come first.

It was characteristic of the King that he should be much happier arranging the departure of William than he was managing state affairs. In his family he was the complete despot; in the country he was plagued by his ministers. So energetically he personally set about the preparations for William’s departure.

He himself had gone to Portsmouth to see Sir Samuel Hood, the Commissioner of the Dockyard, and had taken the opportunity to meet Rear-Admiral Robert Digby with whom William was to sail.

‘Now,’ said the King, ‘no concessions, eh? He’s to be with the others… treated like the others. Make a man of him.’

Rear-Admiral Digby said that His Majesty’s orders would be carried out.

‘If he does wrong, he’s to be punished. Never believed in sparing the punishment. Bad for them. He’ll be with the others… eat with the others… live with the others. That’s understood?’