Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill: (Georgian Series) (29 page)

‘Mary,’ said the Queen, glancing severely at the youngest of her daughters present who had just dropped her thimble, ‘pray do not fidget so, for Miss Burney has the misfortune of reading rather low at first.’

Fanny blushed and tried to speak more loudly and the Queen plied her needle, listening attentively, sewing and keeping her eyes on the company at the same time.

Suddenly there was a commotion outside the room and everyone was alert. They could hear one of the ladies shouting at the top of her voice and all recognized that voice as belonging to Madame la Fite, the Frenchwoman, one of whose duties was to read in French to the Queen and Princesses.

‘I must see Her Majesty. It is
nécessaire.
I tell you It is
trés important
.’

French phrases always crept into Madame la Fite’s English when she was excited and quite clearly she was excited now.

‘Gooley, pray go and see what is happening,’ said the Queen.

Miss Goldsworthy rose at once, but before she could reach the door it was flung open and Madame la Fite came in; she ran to the Queen and threw herself at Her Majesty’s feet.

‘Oh,
mon Dieu.
Have you heard. What an
horreur
.’

‘Madame la Fite, pray calm yourself,’ said the Queen. ‘What is it? What have you heard?’

‘Oh … I cannot say. It is the King … I cannot …’

A not unfamiliar sick fear gripped the Queen. In her imagination she had lived through scenes like this. He had done something which would make them say he was mad. So often he seemed to be clinging with all his might to his sanity and she always feared to hear that he had let go.

She heard herself saying very quietly: ‘What has happened, Madame la Fite?’

She was aware of the round awestricken faces of her daughters. She would like to send them away, but it was too late now. If what she feared had happened, it was no use attempting to keep it from them; they would know sooner or later.

‘He has been stabbed. Twice!’ Madame la Fite threw up her hands in a dramatic gesture. ‘Twice the assassin has struck. This is what I have heard.’

The Queen stood up. Odd that she should have felt relieved. Now she could take charge of the situation.

‘I have no doubt that His Majesty is safe,’ she said.

The news that His Majesty was safe was brought to the Queen almost immediately. He was quite unharmed. He had been attacked by a table knife which was quite blunt and had not even cut his waistcoat. His Majesty had behaved with the utmost calm and had gone on to his levee. He would be returning soon to Windsor.

Rumours were of course flying round, but there was no need to take any notice of them. The Queen could be assured that the King was safe.

In the streets the people were saying that the woman who had attempted to take his life was one of the maidservants from Carlton House who had lost her job because the King refused to pay the Prince of Wales’s debts. Another rumour was that she loved the Prince and was determined to make the King pay for treating his son so badly. Others said that it was a general discontent with the King and the longing for a new one.

The woman, however, had been proved to be a lunatic, for she kept declaring that the Crown was hers.

When the King arrived at Windsor the Queen greeted him with obvious relief.

‘It was nothing,’ he said. ‘The poor creature was mad. I told them to treat her with gentleness.’

The Queen nodded.

‘Poor soul,’ she said.

And the King solemnly echoed those words.

The news was brought to Grove House in its exaggerated form.

The King had been twice stabbed outside St James’s Palace. He was dying, but they were trying to make light of it.

‘I must go to Windsor with all speed,’ said the Prince of Wales.

His phaeton was brought and he drove it himself, and in record time arrived at Windsor.

There was a flutter in the Princesses’ apartments at the Upper Lodge.

‘George is here,’ cried the Princess Royal, clasping her hands in an ecstasy of excitement.

‘He’s come because there has been an attempt on Papa’s life,’ replied Augusta.

‘Perhaps,’ said her sister, ‘he’s hoping it has proved fatal, because then he would be the master of us all.’ Her eyes grew dreamy. ‘I’ll swear everything would be different then. George would let us mix in society. This dull life would be over.’

‘Charlotte, how can you say such things!’

‘I will say what is true, Augusta.’

‘I’d like to do a portrait of George,’ sighed Elizabeth. ‘He would be a most interesting subject.’

‘He’s very good looking,’ sighed Charlotte. ‘And he does such exciting things. Oh, Miss Burney, wouldn’t you like to put him into a novel?’

Miss Burney laughed. ‘Well, one doesn’t write novels about real people, Your Highness. I think it would be
lèse majesté
or something like that.’

‘Your Highness is embarrassing Miss Burney,’ said Gooley reprovingly.

‘Dear old Gooley, you’re as bad as Papa and Mamma. I believe you
approve
of the way we’re treated.’

‘Now,’ retorted Miss Gooley, ‘we must obey His Majesty’s orders and there’s an end to it, as Your Highnesses all know well.’

Three-year-old Amelia had escaped from her nurses and run into the room. ‘I am here.
I
am here.’

‘Where you have no right to be,’ said the Princess Royal affectionately reproving.

Amelia laughed and began running round the room. ‘I’m a horse. I’m Papa’s horse.’

There was the sound of carriage wheels in the courtyard, and all the Princesses ran to the window.

‘He’s going. He’s going already. Oh, look. Is he not handsome?’

‘He looks angry.’

‘Oh dear, there must have been another quarrel.’

‘But why …
why?
He only came to see how Papa was.’

‘To see if it would soon be his turn to wear the Crown.’

‘Oh, he is wicked, our dear brother. Charlotte, move over, I can’t see his shoe buckles.’

‘Melia wants to see George.’ The child turned imperiously to Fanny. ‘Miss Burney lift me up. I want to see George.’

Nothing loth, and wanting to see George as eagerly as Amelia did, Miss Burney lifted the youngest Princess into her arms and stood at the window watching an angry Prince drive off in his phaeton.

During his angry ride to London from Windsor the Prince decided that he would report exactly what had happened. He had gone down to Windsor full of good intentions; he had heard that his father had been shot at; he had gone to assure himself that the rumours were false and if they should not be, to offer what help he could. And the King had refused to see him.

How the old fellow must hate him!

He must talk to Fox and Sheridan immediately; moreover, something must be done about his debts. He could not go on living in this state for ever.

As soon as he returned to Carlton House he sent for Fox and Sheridan.

‘I have been most ignobly treated at Windsor,’ he told them. ‘Naturally I went down as soon as I heard the news.’

‘It was the only thing Your Highness could do,’ replied Sheridan.

‘In the event of the King’s death Your Highness should be at hand,’ agreed Fox.

‘This turned out to be the attack of a mad woman with a dessert knife. I can tell you, gentlemen, the Queen received me very coldly.’

‘On orders from the King, no doubt.’

‘And he was in the next room. I even heard his silly old voice at one point. “Eh, what? Eh, what?” He was well … and he knew I was there. I said to my mother: “I wish to see the King that I may assure myself he has suffered no ill effects from this unfortunate affair.” And do you know what she replied? “That may be, but His Majesty does not wish to see you. And I can assure you that your visit here is having more ill effect than the attack by this mad woman.” My own parents! Is it not time the people knew how I am treated?’

Fox was silent for a few seconds, then he said: ‘Yes, it is time … time to bring this matter into the open. I think we should now make our plans.’

‘Plans for what?’

‘For having the matter of Your Highness’s finances discussed in Parliament whether Pitt is agreeable or not.’

The Prince looked delighted. He could trust Fox. Sheridan was in agreement. Fox had brought him into politics, he owed his advancement to Fox. So naturally whatever Fox suggested seemed to him the wise thing to do.

‘We need time,’ said Fox. ‘We must make sure of our support. But the time has come for us to take the initiative.’

Fox radiated energy. Nothing pleased him more than a parliamentary conflict. This was a gamble of sorts. The public was naturally a little shocked that a prince could spend so much money he did not possess; but he had sold his horses and carriages; he had even paid off some of his debts and had lived economically, even riding in hired chaises – so he did repent of his follies. Whereas the King was determined not to help his son. He was an unnatural father; the people were beginning to realize that the King really hated the Prince of Wales. Besides, he was an unattractive old man, a boring old man, who
preferred living in the country like a squire than in St James’s and Buckingham House like a king.

Fox said: ‘I do not think the King has ever been so unpopular. This is clearly the time to take action. Now we must plan carefully how best we can outwit the King and clever young Mr Pitt.’

Parliament would not reassemble until the autumn and then there were the formidable forces of Pitt to consider. Fox was eager not to go into battle until he was absolutely sure of victory and he believed that the Prince should make some bigger show of paying off some of the debts through his economical way of living. If he were not in Town – and how could he entertain there if he had shut up his reception rooms – the people would grow restive. They enjoyed watching the junketings that went on in his mansion, the fine carriages lining the Mall, the stories of his romance with Mrs Fitzherbert. But that winter London must lose its Prince. The royal family must be content with the dreary King and Queen and occasional glimpses of the Princesses who were kept so shut away that they had no opportunity of bringing their personalities to the notice of cartoonists and the people.

‘Then,’ said Fox, ‘in the spring we should be ready to go in and confound Mr Pitt and His Most Ungracious Majesty.’

Marine Pavilion

LOUIS WELTJE WAS
a man of ideas and he had long been turning over in his mind a plan which he felt was a good one. On his trips to and from Brighton in the service of the Prince of Wales he had had time to survey the possibilities of that fishing village and found them exciting.

Sea bathing he believed had come to stay. More and more of the fashionable world were spending long periods of the summer there. Old Smoker was a character; so was Martha Gunn;
and stories of their salty conversation were repeated in the ballrooms of the great houses. Everyone must go to Brighton. The sea bathing was so beneficial to the health that it set one up for the winter; there was as much elegance in Brighton as in London because the Prince of Wales was there, and everyone knew that where the Prince of Wales was there was the
ton,
the high society, the only place where the fashionable could possibly exist.

So Herr Weltje began to make plans.

For three years the Prince had rented Grove House, but no one was going to say that Grove House was a worthy residence for the heir to the throne. Yet, reasoned Weltje, where else could the Prince stay? Quite obviously if there was no house in Brighton worthy of him, one must be provided.

No one could be unaware of Herr Weltje; he was as outstanding in his way as the Prince was in his. But whereas the Prince was remarkable for his good looks and his glittering elegance, Weltje stood out in his ugliness.

He had a face like a cod fish, some said, his short nose had an exaggerated tilt; his head was too big for his short fat body and he waddled like a duck.

To make up for his unprepossessing appearance Weltje had an alert mind. One did not rise from gingerbread peddler to major-domo in a royal household without intelligence; one was not known as the best cook in London without reason; one did not own a confectioner’s shop in Piccadilly, which, it was true, was managed by one’s wife, and a club which was patronized by the Prince and his friends if one was not a very clever business man.

The gingerbread seller was determined to make a fortune before he retired from business and then perhaps return to his native Hanover to spend it … or perhaps by then he would be content merely to remain in England.

But now … Brighton. Herr Weltje saw possibilities in old Kemp’s Farm which stood on the west side of the Steyne. At this time few would give it a second glance, but that was all to the good. Its position was excellent; the name could be changed to Marine Pavilion; and with such a name and certain renovations it could be a more worthy dwelling for a Prince than Grove House.

Herr Weltje believed he had another winner. He would take a lease of the place, and when it was ready let it to his royal master.

When the Prince heard of the project he was delighted. Building was one of his passions and he threw himself wholeheartedly into turning Kemp’s Farm into Marine Pavilion. They must have, he told Weltje, the best of architects and he would have Henry Holland brought down to Brighton. The house must be ready for occupation by Easter as he had no intention of taking Grove House again and as Carlton House was shut up he intended to come down to Brighton as soon as the weather was warm.

Work started immediately. The Prince would never suffer delay and in a few weeks there was not a sign of Kemp’s Farm. In its place an elegant mansion began to take shape. It was dominated by a rotunda in its centre, with a shallow cupola. Ionic collonnades connected this with the two wings on either side; and a gallery, on which forbidding-looking statues had been placed at intervals, surrounded the rotunda. The north wing, with the rotunda, had been added to what had been Kemp’s Farm, and which formed the basis of the south wing, so that Holland had more than doubled the size of the place and had arranged that almost every window should have a view of the sea. He had made it a very pleasant residence with verandas and balconies; and the gardens before the Pavilion were delightful. The front lawns were surrounded by a low wall and some trellis so that it was easy for people to see over and watch the Prince and his guests enjoying the sunshine in the gardens.