by Jean Plaidy
Lucy kissed her fondly – always the most affectionate of the girls.
‘Oh, Mamma, we have heard the news. I couldn’t believe it. That’s why Samuel said we must come over and see you at once.’
Fanny said spitefully: ‘He’s like all men. He’s not to be trusted. I never liked him. He couldn’t forget he was the King’s son. He pretended he forgot it but it was all a sham. When you think of the money he’s had…’
‘Hush,’ said Dorothy sharply. ‘I do not want to hear a word against the Duke. He has always behaved with courtesy and kindness. This has ended… for State reasons.’
Fanny looked at her mother in amazement.
‘You believe that? Why, he’s been chasing this heiress all through the summer.’
‘Fanny, I said be silent.’
Colonel Hawker laid his hand over Dorothy’s.
‘What is done is done,’ he said. ‘Now we have to make sure that everything is taken care of.’
Yes, thought Dorothy, she had reason to be grateful to Samuel Hawker.
William could not wait to continue his courtship. He had made with all speed to Ramsgate, taking his fifteen-year-old daughter Sophie with him to show that there was nothing clandestine in his courtship.
William had always been seen in the lampoons and cartoons as the rough sailor and although it was long since he had been to sea he was known as the ‘royal tar’, and was reputed to be without finesse and the courtly graces of his brothers.
He now started to prove this picture of him to be true. His courtship of the heiress was clumsy in the extreme; so was his gesture in taking Dorothy Jordan’s daughter with him to Ramsgate to witness it.
Sophie was bewildered and therefore sullen. She had been brought up in the homely atmosphere of Bushy where she had believed harmony reigned between her parents. Now she was suddenly exposed to the antics of an ageing father paying court to a young girl.
She was bewildered, bad-tempered and uncertain whose side to be on. She wanted to be with her mother to ask what this was all about; and on the other hand she liked the gaiety of all the festivities at Ramsgate that were to celebrate the naval fête which was in progress and was the reason why fashionable society was there.
Catherine was amused by the Duke’s pursuit. She thought him old and scarcely attractive, but he was a royal duke, and her mother had pointed out the glorious possibilities which marriage with him could bring.
Lady Tylney-Long, widow of Sir James, had had two sons and three daughters – the two sons having died and Catherine being the eldest of the girls, as one of the wealthiest heiresses in the country, was certain to have a host of suitors. Lady Tylney-Long hoped her daughter would choose wisely; but Catherine was a girl who would have her own way.
William could not help being a little piqued. He had expected that his title would have bemused Catherine to such an extent that she would have accepted him immediately.
Her mother was aware of what marriage with him could mean; but she was also aware of the difficulties of achieving it. The consent of the Prince Regent was essential; the Queen would have to approve, she supposed, and it was the custom of the family to marry German princesses.
She talked this over with Catherine.
‘It would be absolutely necessary to know that a marriage could take place before you accepted him,’ she said.
‘My dear Mamma. I am by no means certain that I am going to accept him – so we need not concern ourselves at this stage.’
‘He is devoted and impatient.’
‘And you must admit a little ridiculous. A man with a left-handed wife living – an actress who has borne him ten children! Oh, Mamma, it is an extraordinary situation in which to find oneself.’
‘You are very frivolous and thoughtless, Catherine.’
‘On the contrary, Mamma, I am both serious and thoughtful. That is why I shall keep my Lord Duke dangling for some time yet.’
And she did.
She was fascinated by William Wellesley-Pole, who was young, handsome and much more suitable than that other William of Clarence.
But a duke! her mother continued to remind her. Did she realize that there was a possibility – a remote one admittedly – of her becoming the Queen of England? The Duke of Clarence was fourth in the succession to the throne. She did think Catherine should consider that.
Catherine retorted that there was only one thing she would consider and that was her own inclinations.
Her aunt, Lady de Crespigny, who was on very friendly terms with the Duke and to whom he wrote of his passion for Catherine wrote to Catherine and to her mother to tell them that the Duke’s intentions were of a very serious nature; and she thought Catherine would be foolish not to give them the utmost consideration.
But Catherine was perverse.
‘Marriage,’ she said, ‘is a serious undertaking. I should be no more impressed by the possibility of his having a crown than he should be about my fortune. But I admit,’ she added judiciously, ‘that these considerations will not be ignored on either side.’
Meanwhile she continued to flirt with her admirers at the head of whom were William Wellesley-Pole and the Duke of Clarence.
While Dorothy waited at Bushy House for William to come and discuss the settlements which would have to be made on their separation, William stayed on at Ramsgate, behaving like a young and ardent lover.
He was writing frequently to Lady de Crespigny giving her accounts of the progress of his courtship.
‘Dear Lady Crespigny,
‘I write at this singular moment because I have just left your ladyship’s lovely and truly amiable niece after having had the happiness of dancing with Miss Long the whole of the evening…
‘Of course my attentions are clearly pointed to Miss Long, and I really flatter myself the lovely little nice angel does not hate me…
‘I went to Lady Catherine’s in the evening and escorted over to the library Miss Long. She had promised to dance two dances with Pole. I had previously obtained Lady Catherine’s consent for the whole night, and made her promise in future whilst we remain here to dance with me, and to cut the matter short I told Pole very civilly I would not give her up to any man…
‘Her dear consent is all that is wanted. Her relations wish it and so do mine. Mrs Jordan has behaved like an angel and is equally anxious for the marriage. Miss Long therefore cannot be afraid of any éclat from that quarter…
‘My two elder brothers are married and I am therefore at this moment the first unmarried man in the kingdom… The character of the third son of the King cannot be a secret and I know she likes what she has heard of me… She must be persuaded I really love her; why come to this place but to see and converse with her? In short, can Catherine Long love the Duke of Clarence?’
But in spite of his devotion and his assurances to her family that his intentions were honourable William was obliged to continue his courtship and Miss Long kept her suitors waiting on her decision.
Ernest, Duke of Cumberland, who liked to meddle, called at Bushy House. He was smarting from the affair of the murdered valet which had happened only a year or so before and it was pleasant to have the limelight turned on one of his brothers. The Dukes of Kent and Cumberland had never been on the same terms of friendship as the rest of the royal brothers. The Duke of Kent, it was said, had been in some way responsible for the exposure of the Duke of York over the Mary Anne case; now Cumberland wanted to play his part in Clarence’s affair. It was for this purpose that he went to see Dorothy.
‘My dear,’ he cried, embracing her, ‘this is terrible news. I came to commiserate with you on the misdeeds of my brother. I am ashamed that he could treat you so.’
Dorothy immediately came to her lover’s defence.
‘I am afraid it has been forced on him.’
That made Cumberland laugh.
‘Did you not know that he has been angling for Catherine Tylney-Long all through the summer? He is declaring himself passionately in l
ove with her.’
‘All through the summer,’ she echoed, thinking of those affectionate letters he had written to her at that time, telling her about the children, never giving a hint that he was courting this girl. She thought of the money she had sent him, money earned by her performances when she was far from Bushy and longed to be there but dared not give up because they needed what she could bring in to the home.
‘As for the family’s wanting him to marry. They might think it advisable for him to marry a German Princess, but do you think they will give their approval to marriage with Miss Long? They might… as she is so rich and he’s in debt up to his ears… but I thought you should know that he is treating you shamefully. And you should make sure that you get a good allowance from him. He should pay for his sins. I am sure the Regent will be of this opinion.’
Dorothy was overcome with grief. This changed everything. He was deceitful as well as unfaithful. She felt weary of everything.
If it were not for the children she would go right away, go abroad, hide herself, prepare to die for she felt so ill that she could not believe that death was not far off.
Cumberland went on to give her details of the gay doings at Ramsgate. Clarence was not there because it was a naval occasion but because the Tylney-Longs were there. He had deceived her completely. He made a point of dancing throughout the evening with the heiress; he never left her side; he was quarrelling incessantly with Wellesley-Pole because he was one of Miss Long’s favoured suitors.
It was too humiliating.
But it was true. Cumberland had brought the papers to show her.
There was one cartoon in which was portrayed a boatman bringing his boat to shore. The boatman was clearly the Duke of Clarence and standing on the shore was a girl, her apron full of gold coins. Beside the girl was another figure – Wellesley-Pole – and in the background Dorothy herself surrounded by ten children. From her mouth came a balloon in which were the words: ‘What, leave your faithful Peggy?’
A verse reputed to be Miss Long’s response to the importuning of the Duke ran:
‘Sir, if your passion is sincere,
I feel for one who is not here;
One who has been for years your pride,
And is, or ought to be, your bride;
Shared with you all your cares and joys
The mother of your girls and boys
Tis cruelty, the most refined
And shows a mean, ungenerous mind,
To take advantage of your power
And leave her like a blighted flower
Return to Mistress Jordan’s arms,
Soothe her and quiet her alarms;
Your present difficulties o’er,
Be wise and play the fool no more.’
‘So you see,’ said Cumberland, ‘I tell you only the truth. I feel it right that you should know it. Don’t trust him, but make sure he does what is right by you and the children. I am sure the Prince Regent will agree that this should be.’
Dorothy thanked him. She wanted to be alone with her misery.
After a while her grief gave way to anger.
To be so deceived! After all these years, how could he do this? She remembered how ardent he had been when he had sought her. Then she had regarded herself as Richard Ford’s wife, and who knew he might have married her. How much happier she might have been as Lady Ford, the respected wife – and widow now – of Sir Richard.
But she had loved William; she had borne his children, her own beloved family.
What would become of them all if he married this heiress?
He was making a fool of himself. The writers said so. ‘Be wise and play the fool no more.’ An ageing man, chasing a young girl… and for her fortune. It was too humiliating to be endured – for him and for her.
She sat down and wrote two letters, one to William in which she told him that she was aware of his antics at Ramsgate and that she knew that he had lied to her about being forced to make a State marriage. She realized that it was Miss Long’s money he needed – for she could supply him more liberally than an actress, however hard the latter worked.
Then she wrote to Cumberland and thanked him for calling on her and telling the truth of what was happening in Ramsgate.
In her agitation she put the letters into the wrong envelopes, so that Cumberland received Clarence’s and Clarence Cumberland’s.
Everyone was talking about the great quarrel between Clarence and Cumberland. It was whispered that the elder would challenge the younger to a duel.
There were always spies to report royal actions and the great joke was that Cumberland had told tales of his brother to Mrs Jordan who, naturally indignant, had written to her ex-lover telling him what she thought of his conduct… but the letter had gone to Cumberland and her letter of thanks for his revelations to Clarence.
What a joke! What a genius these brothers had for supplying the gossip writers with exactly the material they needed.
Miss Tylney-Long did not care to be involved in such a controversy. Her name was constantly in the newspapers and she was always depicted with her arms full of rent rolls of gold coins on which the lusting eyes of the Duke rested – not on her pretty face.
She refused to take the advice of her friends and family who saw that her fortune might purchase a crown.
She accepted William Wellesley-Pole. She preferred him in any case.
So William was the rejected suitor.
The refusal of Miss Tylney-Long did not deter William from looking for another heiress; and almost immediately he was seeking to make Miss Mercer Elphinstone his bride.
Miss Elphinstone was less rich than Miss Tylney-Long, but only a little less. She was young and good-looking and had ingratiated herself so completely with the Princess Charlotte that she almost controlled all the Princess’s actions.
She pretended for a while to consider the Duke of Clarence, but never seriously. William was hurt and bewildered. He had thought that royalty was a passport to marriage with any woman who could only achieve it through marriage with a member of his family.
He was mistaken. The young ladies saw William as a ridiculous old man; he had not waited long to mourn the loss of Miss Tylney-Long. He was determined on an heiress obviously and had not the wit to pretend that he wasn’t.
Miss Elphinstone was not the sort of woman who cared to be ridiculed and she soon made it clear that she had no intention of taking the Duke seriously.
To be rejected so publicly was humiliating to the family and the Prince Regent was displeased.
‘Good God,’ he cried, ‘aren’t we unpopular enough? Do you have to make us ridiculous! You would have done better to have stayed with Dora.’
William agreed, but he would try again. He would find one heiress who was glad to have him.
Dorothy meanwhile had done her best to put the Duke in a good light, but insisted on his paying her an adequate income with which she could support the younger children.
The Duke knew he must concede to her request and promised to allow her £1,500 every year for the maintenance of his children, and £1,500 for herself; for her house and carriage she should have £600, and £800 to make provision for Fanny, Dodee and Lucy.
There was a condition. Should she return to the stage the £1,500 a year paid for the maintenance of her children should not be paid and the children should return to their father.
The settlement was completed.
Dorothy found a house in Cadogan Place and decided that this should be her new home. To this she took the younger FitzClarences, the Alsops, the Marches and the Hawkers. At least she had all her children under one roof.
And there she proposed to live quietly for the rest of her life.
The choice
DOROTHY WAS TRYING to settle down in Cadogan Square and make something of her life. She had lost William; she would not wish to have him back now. He had disappointed her; he had not only deserted her but had made a fool of himself publicly. Why had he thrown aw
ay everything they had built up over the years for the pursuit of a young girl whom he could not have cared greatly about since as soon as she had refused him he was courting Miss Elphinstone?
Why did people whom one believed one knew thoroughly suddenly become as strangers? For the sake of what looked like a whim he had broken up and brought great unhappiness into the family.
She would do without him. With the help of her children she could reshape her life. She had engaged a governess for the children, a Miss Sketchley, who was a great comfort to her and favourite throughout the household. She heard regularly from George and Henry who were together now in the Army. Only Sophia was remiss, but then Sophia had always been unpredictable. She wondered what her daughter had thought when she had to watch her father dancing attendance on Miss Tylney-Long as she had had to do at Ramsgate.
What had possessed William to behave in such a way? Perhaps it was because he had suddenly realized that he was no longer young. He had, as some people did, tried in vain to rekindle his youth.
Oh, the folly of it!
But as the months passed, although she was not exactly happy, she was at peace. For one thing it was pleasant to be shut away from public life. Her name was appearing less and less in the scandal sheets. She was living within her own family; and she had the three eldest girls all married and settled, beside the little FitzClarences who had always been a joy to her.
She was very fond of her son-in-law Frederick March, and Colonel Hawker was very good to her and looked after her affairs. She could not endure Thomas Alsop, but she was not so foolish as to hope for perfection. Thomas could be endured when she had two such sons-in-law as Frederick and the Colonel.
When the children were in bed and her daughters with their husbands, for she had made it quite clear that she had no wish to intrude into their privacy, she and Miss Sketchley would sit together and she would gossip to the governess of her theatrical adventures and it was the pleasantest way of reliving them because she would laugh over her misfortunes and enjoy her triumphs afresh.
