The Third George: (Georgian Series) (44 page)

He dared not think towards what disasters the Prince of Wales might be heading. He now had a place in the House of Lords and had already given his vote in support of Fox. He was decorating Carlton House at great expense; he had discovered the virtues of Brighton where he had started to build a fantastic Pavilion, and worst of all there were rumours that he had offered marriage to a Catholic widow, Mrs Maria Fitzherbert.

The King shut his ears; he did not want to know what the Prince of Wales was doing. He felt ill when he contemplated this son of his; it made him dizzy; it made him talk even to himself at a great rate. It alarmed him.

No, he wanted to get down to the country. It was Windsor he frequented now. There he had farms to inspect; he would ride and walk about the country; he could come home and play with the children. His greatest happiness was in Baby Amelia, the most adorable of creatures. He loved that child. Not that he did not love all the children, but the adorable girl who held out her arms to him when he came near her was, he admitted secretly, his favourite.

The Duchess of Portland died suddenly and when the Queen told him of this he immediately thought of his dear friend Mrs Delany.

‘For,’ he said, ‘I do not know how much she relied on the Duchess, but I do not believe dear Mrs Delany is so comfortably placed as I could wish. What do you think, eh? What?’

The Queen said that she thought poor Mrs Delany was not very comfortably placed.

‘Then,’ replied the King, ‘we must do something about it, eh? What? Can’t allow that dear lady to be in difficulties.’

He had the answer. She should have a little house all her own and it should be at Windsor so that he could call on her any time he wished. And she should have an annuity of three hundred pounds a year so that she need have no anxiety.

Wasn’t there a niece, a Miss Port, or someone? She should come and live with her. He would busy himself to see that everything was as it should be.

This was the sort of task he enjoyed. It did not worry him in the least; it only stimulated him.

He would see about stocking the house.

‘Let her know,’ he said to the Queen, ‘that she is to bring nothing to Windsor but herself, her clothes and her niece. Now let me see what will she want, eh? What? Now the furniture. Leave it to me … leave it to me …’

He saw to everything. Plate, linen, china, glass, wine in the cellars and there was even sweetmeats and pickles in the stillroom.

It was a strange task for a king; but no one was surprised. A king who went round to the farms on his estate and helped make the butter was capable of anything.

When Mrs Delany arrived at the little house which the King had prepared it was to find George himself on the threshold waiting for her.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘this is your home!’ And he was so excited he could not wait to show her round. He was clearly charmed with his work and he kept shouting excited questions at her. ‘You like this, eh? What? There is everything you want, eh?’

Mrs Delany, with tears in her eyes, thanked His Majesty. What had she done to deserve such bounty from the best king in the world?

There were tears in George’s eyes too. Events like this gave him the greatest happiness. It took his mind off the exploits of the Prince of Wales, which, however much he tried to forget them, insisted on obtruding into his thoughts.

Miss Burney at Court

IN THE LITERARY
circle which Mrs Delany had frequented in London she had made the acquaintance of Miss Fanny Burney a young lady who was enjoying a great deal of fame because of a novel which she had written called
Evelina
. The identity of the writer had been kept secret and had intrigued some of the most well-known people in the literary world of London, among these was Samuel Johnson and Mrs Thrale. Fanny was an amusing and clever girl, and now that she had a house in Windsor Mrs Delany asked her to visit her there.

Fanny was delighted to come, for she was very fond of Mrs Delany, but she did confess that she was a little alarmed for she knew on what terms her friend was with the royal family, and it was almost certain that she would at some time meet the Queen or perhaps the King.

Mrs Delany laughed away her guest’s fears as she showed her round the house. Those were the very pickles which the King had chosen for her.

Fanny was very impressed, and when she retired to her room lost no time in writing in her journal a detailed description of everything she had seen. She had started this journal when she was a child and nothing would prevent her keeping it up.

It was a pleasant stay. The royal family were at Kew so
Fanny was able to relax and enjoy the days. These were enlivened not only by Mary Port, Mrs Delany’s niece, but also by Mrs Delany’s great niece, an enchanting little girl to whom Fanny at once took a fancy. The child’s father was also a guest at the same time.

The little girl was delighted with Fanny who was able to give her an account of her own family life which had been extremely happy. She told the little girl about her sisters and the games they had played together when they were young; and the child wanted to play them too.

And Fanny said she would show her at the first opportunity and everyone must join in. One day, under Fanny’s guidance, the company was playing a childish game in the little drawing room when suddenly the door opened and a tall man came in. He said nothing but shut the door quietly behind him and stood watching the group at play.

He was dressed in black. Fanny thought: Surely he’s a ghost. Then she saw the glittering diamond star on his coat and at once she knew.

For a moment the others did not see him and he and Fanny looked at each other appraisingly.

Then Miss Port, turning her head, seemed suddenly struck by horror. ‘Aunt,’ she whispered. ‘The King!’

Mrs Delany had seen. She went towards the visitor to greet him, then it seemed to Fanny that everyone else had disappeared except herself, the King and Mrs Delany.

Fanny stood against the wall hoping that she would be unnoticed while Mrs Delany with calm assurance, but conveying a deep sense of the honour and happiness this visit gave her, curtsied and spoke to the King as to her health and his.

George was looking beyond Mrs Delany to her visitor. He had heard of Fanny Burney. Indeed who had not? The whole of London had speculated about her identity until it was known. She was the friend of the great Dr Johnson. The Queen had read
Evelina
and had told the King it was most commendable and that she had heard it was the first novel to appear since Richardson’s
Clarissa
– and a great deal more moral; and the Queen had been told as soon as she returned to Windsor Lodge that Miss Burney was a guest in Mrs Delany’s House.

The King said: ‘Is that Miss Burney, eh?’

‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ answered Fanny, dropping a curtsey.

The King looked at her piercingly for some seconds.

‘You are enjoying your stay here with my dear friend Mrs Delany?’

‘Yes, sir. Very much.’

‘That is good, eh? What?’ He nodded to Fanny and turned to Mrs Delany. ‘You will be asking me how the Princess Elizabeth is. I am worried about her health. Ever since I lost my sons …’

Mrs Delany was nodding sympathetically.

‘Well,’ went on the King, ‘I have to tell you, dear Mrs Delany, that the Princess has been blooded twelve times this last fortnight. Seventy-five ounces of blood she has lost. It’s a lot, eh? What? What do you think, eh? What?’

Mrs Delany said she thought it was a great deal.

‘They’re blistering her, too. I am anxious, most anxious.’ He was aware of Fanny again. ‘Pray, does Miss Burney draw too?’ he asked.

‘I believe not, sir,’ replied Mrs Delany. ‘At least she has not told me if she does.’

The King laughed slyly. ‘Ah, that’s nothing. She’s apt not to tell. She never does tell, you know. Her father once talked to me about her book.’ He moved towards Fanny and studied her intently. ‘But what? What?’ he went on. ‘How was it?’

He was speaking so quickly that Fanny, unaccustomed to his manners, did not understand the question.

‘Sir?’ she began.

‘How came it about, eh? What?’

‘I wrote it for my own amusement, sir.’

‘But publishing it … printing it … eh? What? How was that, eh? What?’

‘Well, sir, that was because …’

For the life of her Fanny could not think of the answer to his question. But the King was not a man to give up. He was very interested in detail; and he wanted to know why Fanny had published her book if she had written merely for her own amusement, just as he had wanted to know how Mrs Delany did her mosaics.

‘I thought, sir, that … er … it would look well in print.’

The King laughed; he walked over to Mrs Delany. ‘That’s fair,’ he said. ‘Very fair and honest.’

He stood at some distance looking at Fanny; every now and then laughing and saying ‘Yes, very fair and honest.’

The Queen arrived to see dear Mrs Delany and to talk to her about the treatment the Princess Elizabeth was having.

She was delighted, too, to see the famous Miss Burney, and was gracious when Fanny was presented. Fanny was invited to sit beside her and the King came and joined them. He told the Queen that Miss Burney had had her book printed because she thought it would look well in print. And he laughed again.

They talked of literature for Fanny’s benefit and behaved with such courtesy towards her that she was charmed. As she began to grow used to the King’s unusual ways of speaking it was easier for her to understand and to know when the ‘ehs’ and ‘whats’ demanded an answer.

‘Shakespeare,’ said the King. ‘Was there ever such stuff as a great part of Shakespeare? Only one must not say so. But what do you think, eh? What? Is it not sad stuff, eh? What?’

Poor Fanny. How could one writer deny the greatest of her kind. And yet how could she argue with the King. This unfortunately was one of the questions which demanded an answer.

‘Oh yes, sir,’ she said, ‘though mixed with such excellencies that …’

The King burst into laughter. He found Fanny very amusing. ‘Of course it is not to be said. But it’s true, eh? Only it’s Shakespeare and nobody dare abuse
him.
Some of those characters of his. Poof. Stuff. Sad stuff. But one would be stoned for saying so.’

Everyone seemed to be very happy and Fanny found the company of the royal pair not nearly so alarming as she had feared it might be.

The Queen was so gracious and determined to be kind; and the King clearly wanted to be pleasant.

When the royal pair had left Mrs Delany said that it was obvious to her that they had taken a liking to Fanny. This was confirmed on further visits to the little drawing room.

Shortly afterwards Fanny was offered a post in the Queen’s household as second keeper of the robes, with which she would receive a drawing room in the Queen’s Lodge at Windsor with a bedroom opening from it, a footman of her own, together with an allowance of two hundred pounds a year.

Fanny was uneasy. It was no part of her ambition to become
a royal servant. But having become acquainted with the King and Queen in such an intimate and friendly manner through Mrs Delany, it was very difficult to refuse.

So she accepted and in a short time was installed in Charlotte’s household.

*

Madame Schwellenburg quickly resented the newcomer who was clearly specially favoured by the Queen. Schwellenburg would grumble to herself about people who were sent in and who had no idea how to wait on a Queen. Fanny disliked the old woman and told herself that if she was sent away she did not greatly care, except that she was growing fond of the Queen and every day felt a great desire to serve her.

Charlotte sensed this and liked to have Fanny near her; she was considerate and made a point of not giving her any tasks that she might not be able to perform until she had watched others do them; and she made a point of dismissing Fanny when her hair was powdered in case Fanny’s dress should be spoilt.

Fanny would stand waiting for her duties to be pointed out to her while the Queen read the papers. This was usually during the crimping and craping of her hair. Being aware of Fanny and her literary tastes the Queen would read out a paragraph or two for her benefit.

This Fanny found endearing; and although she had to admit that the Queen was not beautiful and did lack a certain grace and was inclined to be imperious in her own household and was mean almost to stinginess, she was kind and Fanny was soon adoring her.

She began to settle in happily apart from skirmishes with Schwellenburg who found fault with everything she did and, in fact, seemed to care for nothing but her position in the Queen’s household and two horrible little frogs which she kept as pets. She was an inveterate card player and insisted on Fanny’s playing with her, for she implied that one of the newcomer’s duties was to amuse her. She despised novel-writing and told Fanny so in her unique English which always made Fanny laugh. ‘You lauf Miss Berners,’ she said. ‘Very well. I vill not to you talk. But I talk to selfs.’

Fanny enjoyed visiting Mrs Delany and telling her of life at Court.

*

It was the Princess Amelia’s fourth birthday and Mrs Delany had told Fanny that she was going to take advantage of the old custom of paying her respects and asked Fanny to accompany her.

As it was her birthday the little Princess was to parade on the castle terrace and there receive the homage of those who had called to give it. She looked very charming in a robe-coat which was covered with the finest muslin; she wore white gloves and carried a fan; on her golden head was a tightly fitting cap; she looked charmingly and incongruously grown up and was clearly delighted with herself. The King could not take his eyes from her. They were filled with tears as he watched the delightful creature parade between the spectators turning her head to smile and acknowledge the acclaim.

The Queen and the Princess were present, and when the little girl reached Mrs Delany she stopped to smile at her and speak with her. ‘You haven’t brought your niece,’ she said. ‘I wish you had.’