by Jean Plaidy
He liked to talk to them and lately had become a frequent visitor to Petersham Lodge, where William and Dorothy were living in retirement because Dorothy was pregnant again.
The Prince was saying: ‘They have caught me. I have to marry. It is the condition they demand if my creditors are to be satisfied.’
‘How much do you owe?’ asked William.
The Prince waved his hand. ‘My dear William, I never keep account of figures. They bore me. Suffice it to say that I owe such a sum that these tiresome people will wait no longer for the settlement of their accounts and refuse to supply me and moreover will take action against me. What can I do? I have an intimation from our father of what is expected of me.’
‘Marriage?’ asked William.
‘You say it complacently. Oh, I am not surprised. You have made a very comfortable home for yourself with our dearest Dora. How fortunate you are!’
‘I always thought that you and Maria…’
‘Yes, yes. I was happy for a while. But Maria has the most devilish temper, you know. I did not want to leave her. It was she who made the decision. I have always regretted it. But I could not be… commanded. You understand?’
William understood perfectly.
‘My dear Dora,’ said the Prince, ‘I am going to ask you to sing for me presently. In the meantime you must forgive me if I weary you with the repetition of my so tiresome affairs.’
‘I am only sorry that Your Highness is grieved.’
‘Pray come and sit near me. It comforts me to see you. Oh, William, how fortunate you are! There is nothing like a happy home. And you have young George. How is the rascal? And why is he not here to see his uncle?’
‘I will send for him,’ said Dorothy.
‘Not just yet, my dear. I want to talk of this disaster which is about to overtake me.’
‘Perhaps it will prove a blessing,’ said Dorothy.
‘What a comforter you are! Is this how she comforts you, William?’
‘She is a great comfort to me,’ said William solemnly.
‘I have a choice of two – Germans both. The King’s niece or the Queen’s.’
‘And which are you choosing?’ asked William.
‘You don’t think I would give our mother the gratification of choosing hers?’
‘So it is to be the Princess Caroline of Brunswick,’ said Dorothy.
The Prince lightly touched her hand. ‘How delightful of you to concern yourself with my wretched affairs. Yes, the Brunswick one. What does it matter? One German hausfrau is very like another.’
‘I am sure Your Highness will be agreeably surprised.’
‘It would be churlish of me not to be comforted when you make such efforts to please me. What about our little song now. And I will join with you.’
Dorothy said it would delight her to sing for and with His Royal Highness.
She was sorry for him – Prince of Wales though he was. She was sorry for anyone who did not enjoy the domestic bliss she had discovered.
What should she sing? There was one song which would certainly not do. No Sweet Lass today. She was sure the ballad would reduce the poor Prince to regretful tears.
On a bleak March day Dorothy’s second son was born. Like his brother George he was young and lusty. He was named Henry; he was exactly a year and two months younger than his brother George, and his parents were delighted with him.
‘We now have our little family,’ said William fondly. ‘Two sons. I declare I’m a proud man. I wonder if I’m going to have as many children as my father had.’
It was so pleasant at Petersham Lodge, looking after her boys. Dorothy felt she could be happy living like this for the rest of her life. She found she was rather pleased to have an excuse to rest from the stage for a while, although of course when she was recovered she must go back.
These little FitzClarences would be well cared for, she had no doubt. They had royal blood in their veins; but she must not let her delight in them blind her to the fact that she had daughters.
Little Henry’s birth was scarcely noticed in the press. It had another matter with which to occupy itself. The coming marriage of the heir to the throne.
Events were moving too quickly for the Prince of Wales. Once he had agreed to marry preparations went ahead and by April Caroline of Brunswick had arrived in England.
Lady Jersey – the mischievous and malicious mistress of the Prince of Wales – went to Greenwich to meet her. She had learned that Caroline was much less likely to please the Prince than his mother’s niece, Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, and it was for this reason that Lady Jersey had done everything possible to persuade the Prince to take Caroline for she did not want him to have a wife for whom he might feel some fondness and who might lessen the influence of his mistress. She was delighted therefore when she saw Caroline, who was surely like no other Princess. Her head was too big; her neck was too short, she was plump and without grace; her complexion was florid and her teeth bad. She was overdressed, laughed too loudly and was none too clean. Lady Jersey felt hilariously gay when she considered the effect this female would have on the fastidious Prince of Wales. She had even taken the precaution of having a dress made for Caroline which would be as unbecoming as possible and persuaded the Princess to change into it for her meeting with the Prince of Wales. Caroline was foolish enough to do this but she rebelled against the hideous white turban which Lady Jersey had brought for her.
The meeting between the Prince and his future bride had been disastrous. He had taken one look at her and called for brandy to help him sustain the shock.
After that he was beside himself with indecision. He had promised to marry because Mr Pitt and the King said he must. The Princess of Brunswick had been brought over for him; she was already married to him by proxy; and the proper ceremony was to take place shortly.
He came to Petersham House. He paced up and down beating his forehead; he threw himself on to a couch and wept. Everything else must be set aside that they might talk of this terrible disaster which had befallen him.
‘I will not marry her,’ he cried, ‘and if I do not they will not pay my debts. Was ever a Prince in such a dilemma for… money?’
They were sorry for him; they wept with him. Dorothy was learning to weep whenever tears seemed the only polite response. Her years of acting enabled her to play a part as well as the Prince of Wales whom she recognized at once as an equal in the art.
‘My life is in ruins. I would die rather than marry this… creature. She is offensive to my sensibilities… to my heart, to my mind and… nose.’
‘Dear me,’ said William, ‘Is she as bad as that?’
‘Every bit as bad, brother. Every bit.’
What could they do to comfort him? There was nothing except to listen sympathetically when he told them that he knew he would never be able to go through with the ceremony.
And when he had left them, they congratulated themselves yet again on the felicity of their own position.
Throughout the royal households bets were being taken. Just as after the scandal of Mrs Fitzherbert it was a gamble on ‘Are they married or are they not?’ now it was a matter of ‘Will he or won’t he?’
On the eve of his wedding the Prince of Wales begged William to come to him.
‘Poor George,’ said William to Dorothy. ‘How sorry I am for him!’
‘Do you think he will go through with it?’
‘I really don’t know. But there’ll be such trouble if he doesn’t.’
‘And if he does,’ sighed Dorothy.
‘I wish you could come with me. You always cheer him.’
‘I doubt whether anyone would cheer him tonight. I daresay he wants to confide in you, William. Perhaps he is going to refuse at this late date.’
‘He daren’t. His debts are so great that if I told you the figure you wouldn’t grasp it. He must get Parliament to pay his debts and their condition is… marriage.’
Dorothy shivered. ‘I can
imagine nothing worse than being forced into such a relationship.’
She thought of Daly who had forced her, but in a different way. She would never forget that man; he was like a menacing shadow over her life even now.
‘I shall convey your affection to him and tell him of your sympathy,’ said William. ‘I will tell him that you wanted to accompany me and if you had been well enough would have insisted.’
So while William drove to Carlton House Dorothy remained in the nursery to play with little George and to gaze with enraptured admiration on eleven-day-old Henry.
The Prince received his brother with mournful pleasure.
‘I knew you’d come, William.’
‘Of course. United we stand.’
‘And did you find it so hard to tear yourself away from that family of yours?’
‘My dear George, the family wanted to come and would have done… all four of them if Dora had been well enough.’
‘Thank her for me, William. Tell her I appreciate her goodness.’
‘She is most unhappy for you, George. She says she knows exactly what it is like to be forced into such a relationship. That man Daly, you know.’
‘Poor girl, poor girl! William, I don’t know which way to turn. I really don’t think I can marry that woman.’
‘My poor, poor brother.’
‘She is completely repulsive to me.’
‘Then refuse.’
‘Is it possible?’
‘Why not? If you refuse to take her they can’t force you to.’
‘They can’t exactly force me into marriage but they can force me into bankruptcy.’
‘Well, Parliament will pay up. Don’t they always.’
‘That fellow Pitt insists on marriage. He was always against me.’
‘I know.’
‘And our father supports him; our mother supports him; although she is going to hate this woman as much as I do.’
‘Perhaps you should have taken our mother’s niece instead.’
The Prince sat down on a couch and dramatically buried his face in his hands. ‘I should have done anything… anything rather than have been brought to this pass.’
‘You have till tomorrow to make up your mind.’
‘What can I do, William? What can I do?’
‘You can either marry her or refuse to do so,’ said William as though he was offering a bright idea.
George looked at him with veiled exasperation. Really, William was very like their father at times. He was not very bright. But one must not be annoyed for he was a good and loyal brother.
‘I cannot think what to do. Oh, William, how I wish that I might talk this over with Maria.’
‘With Maria Fitzherbert!’ cried William aghast. ‘Why, she is the last one… considering she thinks you’re already married to her.’
‘My dear William… it is precisely because they are trying to marry me to this… this… creature that I want to turn to Maria.’
‘But you couldn’t let it be known that you are married to Maria, George. There might be a revolution.’
‘Do you think the people care enough about me for that, William?’
‘No,’ said William. ‘But they care about the monarchy and they’d never have a Catholic Queen.’
George sighed. ‘Oh, what trouble I am in! To think of marrying that woman, going to bed with her. I feel sick at the very thought.’
‘Once she’s pregnant you can leave her alone.’
The Prince shuddered. ‘You express yourself somewhat crudely, William. It’s that seafaring existence of yours. But I know you feel for me just the same.’
‘I’d do anything for you, George. If I had the money to pay your debts…’
‘I know. Money! It’s such a sordid affair. Why should I be pestered like this on account of… debts.’
The Prince began to weep silently but effectively, and William sat disconsolately watching him.
‘George, if there is anything I can do…’
‘There is, William. I sent for you that you might do this for me. This evening I went to Maria’s house. I drove past. I expected she would make some sign. She must have been aware of me. Someone in her household would have known I was there. I drove past and back again and I repeated that. Then I did it again. I gave her every opportunity.’
‘And what happened?’
‘Nothing, William, precisely nothing.’
‘And if she had come to the window; if she had called you in… what then?’
‘Why then, William, I believe I should have said I would not go through with this marriage. I would have asked Maria to take me back. I thought she would have had some sympathy. I thought she would have come to the window.’
‘Perhaps it is because you are still with Lady Jersey.’
‘It’s different, William, Maria should know that. Imagine yourself fascinated by some unusual woman – a wild and passionate creature who is different from all others, whom you do not exactly love but who fascinates you, so that you could not turn your back on her. Surely Dorothy would understand.’
William wrinkled his brows.
‘Wouldn’t she?’ demanded the Prince.
‘It could never happen. Dora and I are like a man and his wife.’
‘By God,’ cried the Prince. ‘So was I with Maria. But Frances Jersey… she was irresistible. Surely Maria could have understood that. But she was too virtuous, my Maria. It meant that she had little understanding. But what a devil of a temper. She was magnificent in her rages. And she was always so damned independent. It was always If you want to go, Go. But I never did want to go, William.’
‘But you did,’ persisted William. ‘You left her for Lady Jersey.’
‘This is not the time to remember it.’
‘Perhaps it is not the time to remember either of them.’
‘Oh, God, now you have reminded me of that… creature.’
‘I don’t think,’ said William, ‘that she has ever been far from your mind.’
‘William, what am I going to do?’
‘Either marry her or refuse.’
The Prince laughed aloud. ‘My dear William, you are brilliant, brilliant! But I have asked you to come here tonight for a reason. I want you to go to Maria. I want you to tell her that you have been here tonight. I want you to tell her what state I am in. And say this to her: “Mrs Fitzherbert, he asked me to tell you this: ‘You are the only woman he will ever love.’” Perhaps then she will have some regrets. Perhaps she will wish she took the trouble to come to the window, to comfort me in this nightmare, this terrible ordeal.’
‘I will take your message to her,’ said William. ‘And tomorrow…’
‘Tomorrow,’ said the Prince, ‘I shall have come to my decision. Good-night, William. Thank you for coming. Lucky William, with your happy home, with your dear Dora, your delightful children. Have you ever thought, William, what a lucky man you are.’
‘I often think it,’ said William. ‘And if you had kept with Mrs Fitzherbert…’
Dear William, best brother in the world, thought the Prince of Wales, but singularly lacking in tact.
The next day the Prince was married. He had fortified himself with brandy to face his ordeal and once during the ceremony he rose from his knees and made as if to walk away. But the King was beside him, forcing him to kneel again, determined that having gone so far there should be no turning back.
William discussed the ceremony with Dorothy and told her that it broke his heart to see dear George in such a melancholy state.
‘He was so drunk that it was hard to keep him standing, so Bedford told me, and he should know for he was one of the Dukes who stood on either side of him… very close, I can assure you, to prop him up. His eyes were quite glassy and he didn’t look at her once.’
‘Poor Princess,’ said Dorothy. ‘I wonder how she feels.’
‘Glad to have escaped that little place she comes from, no doubt. It’s a bit of a madhouse there, I hear; a
nd she herself seems tainted with the family complaint. I can only hope that she’ll be pregnant in a few days and then he’ll be free of her.’
‘It makes one glad one is not a Princess,’ said Dorothy. ‘Not that I should wish to be anyone but myself.’
They heard the rumours later. The Princess Caroline of Wales let it be known that her husband had spent their wedding night under the grate, so drunk that he was oblivious of the world.
William called at Mrs Fitzherbert’s London house where her friend and faithful companion, Miss Pigot, took him into her pleasant drawing room with the blue satin-covered walls and told him that her mistress would attend on him immediately.
William bowed as Mrs Fitzherbert came into the room. His eyes filled with tears; he had always been fond of her, and like his brother, Frederick, had deplored the breaking up of her relationship with the Prince.
‘My dear William, how good of you to call on me.’
‘He asked me to come.’
‘The Prince!’ Her face hardened and the colour in her delicately tinted complexion, one of her greatest attractions and which owed nothing to rouge and white lead, deepened slightly.
‘He has been most distressed.’
‘To marry when one already has a wife would be disturbing to most people, I’ll swear.’
‘He looks upon you as his wife, Maria. He always did.’
‘I suppose,’ she said, ‘that is why he is living with Lady Jersey and marrying the Princess Caroline. But pray sit down, William. I will send for some refreshment. You must tell me how life is with you.’
‘I came to talk of him… at his request.’
‘You mean he sent you.’
‘He asked me to come and tell you that you will always be the only woman he ever loved.’
She was moved but attempted to hide the fact. ‘He always loved drama.’
‘He meant it.’
‘Of course he did while he said it. He always means his parts. That is why he plays them so well. He should have been on the stage.’
