The Third George

by Jean Plaidy

  Thus Newcastle resigned and Lord Bute held that position for which he had long schemed and plotted. He had become First Lord of the Treasury and was elected a Knight of the Garter. The Princess Dowager wept tears of joy to see him in his regalia; the king embraced him and told him that this was one of the happiest days of his life. Only Bute was a little uneasy, realizing how weighty affairs of state can be.

  However, he appointed Sir Francis Dashwood Chancellor of the Exchequer and George Grenville Secretary of State for the Northern Department the post just evacuated by himself. Lord Henley remained Lord Chancellor; the Duke of Bedford was Lord Privy Seal, Lord Granville Lord President of the Council, and the Earl of Egremont Secretary of State for the Southern Department.

  With such a strong cabinet he felt his confidence rising. He told the King and the Princess Dowager that his first aim would be to bring about a lasting and honourable peace.

  The Queen was now heavily pregnant and her child was expected to be born in the following August. Buckingham House was ready for habitation in June and she and the King decided that they would move in and enjoy it during the summer months. Furniture and pictures were brought from Hampton and St. James's to help furnish it, and when it was ready Charlotte was delighted, particularly when people called it the Queen's House. There was a housewarming party to which the Court was invited and George, with his usual meticulous attention to detail, made the plans.

  There would be a concert, of course; both King and Queen were determined on that, and, as it was brilliant summer, it would be an al-fresco occasion. The King selected a certain Mr. Kuffe, who was a German, to take charge of the arrangements. Besides the concert there was to be a ball and the gardens would be illuminated.

  Crowds waited outside to see the guests arrive and they were delighted by the sight of the King and his pregnant Queen on the balcony, for this pregnancy had won back the popularity which the King had lost at the time of Pitt's resignation. Now he was their young king again. He could be said to be handsome though his fair skin was now often marred by pimples; but his very blue eyes were not as prominent as his grandfather's and his jaw was only sullen in repose. If he would rid himself of the odious Bute and take back their idol Pitt, they would have nothing with which to complain.

  But settling into Buckingham House was a joyous occasion and the crowds had come to cheer and applaud. It was a delightful ball, Charlotte decided; and she wished that they could have more balls. She confided this to George in the privacy of their apartments when the successful festivities had come to an end. He shook his head.

  "It would not be good for you in your condition.”

  "But George, I shall not be in this condition after August," she reminded him.

  "It may well be," he said, 'that you soon will be again.”

  She considered this a little dolefully, for she had been feeling the heat rather too much and she had suffered certain discomforts. It would all be worth while once the child was born, but the idea of starting again almost immediately was a little subduing. However, she did not protest. After all, she would not be content with one child only.

  Charlotte was feeling wan and exhausted. The Princess Dowager called on her and expressed her concern. "You should be in the country," she said. "There is nothing like country air when you are carrying.”

  "But I love this house.”

  "You should go to the country," insisted Augusta.

  It was not only the Queen's health which made her feel this would be advisable. Charlotte was beginning to speak a little English and was taking too much interest in what was going on around her. She had expressed a view on Mr. Pitt and what was more distressing was that she had commented to one of her women, so Miss Pascal had reported, that she believed the King to be especially interested in the Quaker religion and she herself would like to know something of it so that she could discuss it with His Majesty if the subject should arise.

  Quite clearly she was beginning to learn too much of what was going on around her. She and Lord Bute had brought Charlotte to England to bear the King's children, not to meddle and probe. So the Queen should go to Richmond and live in retirement there.

  Princess Augusta directed her cold smile on her daughter-in-law.

  "Richmond! That is the answer. I shall know no peace until you are there. I shall instruct your ladies that they are not to bother you with too much chatter.”

  "I enjoy my conversation with them. It enables me to improve my English.”

  "All in good time. Don't forget you are carrying the heir to the throne.”

  "It may not be a boy.”

  "Of course it will be a boy," insisted Augusta, as though, thought Charlotte, it will be my fault if it is not her own firstborn was a girl in any case.

  "And if this one is not a boy the next one will be.”

  Oh dear, thought Charlotte, how they do talk about the next before this one has appeared.

  "I shall prepare a schedule for you, my dear. You will wish for a little exercise and when the King is with you at Richmond you will take that together. I doubt not the King will be with you whenever he can spare the time from state duties. You will have your reading, your English lessons, your sewing. But I do not think your ladies should tire you too much at this stage. I shall give instructions that they shall spend only half an hour a week in conversation with you.”

  "Oh, but...”

  The Princess Dowager held up a playful finger which accorded strangely with her cold and calculating glance.

  "It is all for your good, my dear," she said. "We cannot allow anything to go wrong now, can we?”

  So Charlotte left Buckingham House and went to Richmond where the weeks of waiting passed slowly and monotonously.

  George joined Charlotte at Richmond, and here began to live the life of the country gentleman.

  Richmond was near enough to St. James's to enable him to return for levees and important state occasions; but the thought of being a father and living a life of domestic happiness greatly appealed to him; and at Richmond he had time to be the devoted husband.

  He enjoyed the rural life and nothing pleased him so much as to go among the local people and talk to them, waving ceremony aside and asking them questions about their work and lives. He was particularly interested in the farms and would talk at great length with the farmers and even their labourers on agricultural matters. He became very popular in Richmond and he was delighted that the local people there touched their forelocks or curtsied, according to sex, and called a "Good morning, sir' instead of cheering for His Majesty.

  And then there were the days with Charlotte. They both had a love of music and he would listen approvingly while she sang or played the harpsichord. Sitting with Charlotte, talking to her in German, he was happy; she sewed or embroidered and as he did not like to sit idly, he took up the craft of button-making to which he applied a great deal of patience.

  But he did not forget the state matters in spite of the simple life. Every morning he arose at five to light the fire in his bedroom which his servants had laid the night before. Then he would go back to bed until the room was warmed up. After washing and dressing he would study state papers until it was time to breakfast with Charlotte. Each morning he surveyed her with pleasure. She appeared in good health and there was no doubt that the simple life and Richmond air agreed with her. She was a goodly size and some of the experienced were saying the way she carried the child implied that it was a boy.

  At eight o'clock they took breakfast. "Just a dish of tea for me, my dear Charlotte." His usual remark.

  To which she replied: "Oh, but George, it is not enough.”

  But he would sternly resist her efforts to press food on him. He was not going to indulge his inherited love of rich food and incur the obesity which went with it, he told her. It was all part of the discipline of his life. He put it from him as he had Hannah Lightfoot and Sarah Lennox; and he accepted his dish of tea as though it was exactly all he desired, in the same way
as he accepted the plain woman sitting opposite him. Such happy days they were in spite of all the conflict in the government. Charlotte had no intention of concerning herself with that. Her thoughts were concentrated on the child.

  On one of his visits to St. James's, George heard the news. It was Mr. Fox who told him slyly, thought George, taking pleasure in the discomfiture which he must know such a revelation would cause.

  "Your Majesty, my sister-in-law Sarah Lennox was married a few days ago.”

  George felt his face growing pink. "Oh... is that so?”

  "Yes, Sire. In view of Your Majesty's kind interest in her I thought you would wish to know.”

  "Er ... yes ...”

  "A quiet wedding in the chapel at Holland House. Not perhaps a brilliant match, but...”

  "Who was the bridegroom?" asked George quickly.

  "Bunbury, Sire. Charles Bunbury. He is a fortunate man. He is not rich and of course heir to the baronetcy. But it is a match of her making and Your Majesty will agree with me that happiness does not depend on riches.”

  "H'm," grunted George, and turned away to speak to someone else. But he was not listening to what was said; he was thinking of Sarah, married to someone else; Sarah who might have been his wife.

  The King returned to Richmond. How plain Charlotte was. Plainer than ever now that her body was bulky! She was grotesque. He thought of Sarah, Sarah teaching him that dance, with the silly name, the Betty Blue, was it? Sarah laughing and teasing and making hay in the gardens of Holland House. He had given up Sarah for Charlotte and now Sarah had another lover: Bunbury.

  Silly name, thought George angrily. Who was Bunbury? A petty baronet... not even that until his father died ... and no fortune either. But Sarah had never looked for title and fortune. If she had would she ever have refused the King? And she had refused him at one time ... although later she would have accepted him and then he was persuaded to take Charlotte instead. He might have had Sarah ... and he had Charlotte.

  There was no longer contentment for him at Richmond. He could not bear to look at Charlotte.

  His mind and body were crying out for Sarah and wherever he looked he saw her ... with Bunbury. He could not stay within walls; he went out and walked. It started to rain and he went on walking. The rain soothed him; it soaked through his clothes; it was inside his boots, but he didn't care. He found some savage pleasure in the discomfort. He was cold and shivering when he returned; he felt feverish and was sneezing violently.

  The King was suffering from acute influenza; he was delirious and to the doctors' consternation his chest was covered with a rash which they could not identify as being a symptom of a known disease.

  Charlotte insisted on nursing him and she was in despair because, when she brought the doctors to bleed him, he cried out that he did not want them. They should not touch him. His behaviour was very strange, and he was not like the reasonable, amenable young man they had known before.

  "Go away! Go away!" he cried.

  "Leave me alone ... all of you.”

  There was great consternation throughout the Court, for it was believed the King might die. And then what? A Regency? What a state of affairs. A young king suddenly stricken down and the heir to the throne not yet born. Charlotte now showed a strength of character which astonished those about her. This was the young woman who had written a letter to Frederick of Prussia. Nobody was going to turn her out of the sick room, not the King's mother, nor Lord Bute. She was his wife and she was in command.

  She ordered the doctors to bleed the King; and by this time George was far too ill to protest. She was in the sick room night and day and there was nothing anyone could do to shift her. Under her care and that of the doctors George began to get better; and the day came when he was sitting up in bed asking for a little food, no longer feverish and quite lucid in his mind.

  "You will soon be well again," Charlotte told him.

  "That must be so, for I have affairs to attend to.”

  "Ah. You will not get up until you are well enough, I promise you.”

  The King felt a surge of resentment. He was not going to be ruled by this bulky little creature. If she thought so, she must be quickly disillusioned.

  "I shall get up tomorrow," he said. Charlotte regarded him tenderly and shook her head. How dared she, who was not beautiful Sarah, how dared she tell him what he must or must not do.

  When he heard from the doctors that the Queen had been a wonderful nurse, and that no one could have been so devoted, he softened towards her. She was a good woman; it was not her fault that she was not beautiful; she could not be blamed because beautiful Sarah had married Bunbury.

  "I hear you have been a good nurse," he told her. He must try to love her. She was carrying their child who might be the heir to the throne if he were a boy ... and if it were a girl and there were no more children that child might be the Queen. He must be good to Charlotte. He must forget Sarah Lennox and love his wife.

  "Of course I was your nurse. As if I would allow anyone else to nurse you.”

  She had changed; she was less humble; she had been for a while in authority. If he allowed her she would be ready to advise him and guide him. That must not be. He could allow no woman to guide him particularly one who failed to charm him.

  "And you are going to stay there until you are quite well." Spoken with loving firmness.

  He said quietly but firmly, "I shall get up tomorrow." And he did. She protested, but he swept aside her protests. He would not be dictated to. He was the King and he would make the decisions.

  It was said that the King had risen far too soon from his sick bed; and sometimes George felt this to be true, but he was not going to allow Charlotte to decide what he should or should not do.

  It was the beginning of August and the Queen's time was drawing near. One morning at breakfast George said to her: "The heir to the throne must be born in London.”

  "Oh, but it is much more peaceful here at Richmond," cried Charlotte.

  "That may be so, but it is one of our traditions.”

  Charlotte was sad. The last weeks had been so enjoyable. She loved Richmond and she would always remember it as the place in which she had known the greatest happiness of her life. She brightened when she thought of Buckingham House. That was not so bad. Too near St. James's, of course, but far more pleasant than that grim old palace which she had always thought looked like a prison.

  "There is the new house ..." she began.

  But George shook his head. "It will not be ready. You must tell your women to prepare for the journey back to St. James's. And I think we should not delay it.”

  Charlotte protested, but George waved her objections aside. George was growing very stubborn, and although he might be persuaded to change his mind about certain matters by Lord Bute and his mother, Charlotte had never had the power to persuade him. He let her talk while he sipped his tea. Then he said as though she had not mentioned her dislike of the place: "So, my dear, pray tell your women. We should leave this week, I think.”

  So there was nothing she could do but obey. It was not important, she told herself. Soon she would have her baby and she would bring the child to Richmond. She longed for the child. She wanted to write home and tell them what it was like when one was about to become a mother. But that would be too cruel... for poor Christina. So Charlotte meekly told her women to prepare, and in a short time she was installed in that grim old palace of St. James's, there to await the desired event.

  The morning of 12 August dawned bright and warm; and it was very clear to all those surrounding the Queen that she was on the point of giving birth.

  Schwellenburg, who had quickly forgotten her injunctions to behave with less arrogance, was in command and bullying poor Haggerdorn until she did not know which way to turn.

  "Summon all the ladies," she commanded, 'for the Queen's time is near.”

  Haggerdorn did as she was bid and a feeling of excitement ran all through the Palace. Crowds had b
egun to collect in the streets. This was the King's first child and if it were a boy he would be Prince of Wales; even if it were a girl there would be reason for rejoicing, for it was a very good sign that the Queen had so quickly shown that she could bear children; and there had been no alarms during her pregnancy either. Everything seemed well and normal. Married in September 1761; having her first child August 1762. Who could do better than that? Who could rival such promptitude?

  Soon the Princess Dowager's carriage was seen driving to St. James's. On this day the people were kinder to her and gave her a cold silence. There were no reminders of the immoral life they liked to tell her she lived. Even Lord Bute's carriage was allowed to pass in silence. No rancour at the time of a royal birth. The ministers of the cabinet began to arrive: Egremont, Devonshire, George Grenville, Halifax and the rest. Then came the Archbishop of Canterbury and during the morning the excitement mounted.

  The ladies of the bedchamber, all together in an anteroom, were not permitted to enter the bedchamber, much to the disgust of Mademoiselle von Schwellenburg. Even the ministers were not allowed in; the Archbishop of Canterbury alone enjoyed this privilege.

  In another part of the Palace George waited. He was anxious; hating the thought of pain he was praying that Charlotte would be quickly delivered; he was thanking God for giving him a fertile wife; and he asked that the child should be a boy. "Although," he hastened to add, 'the sex of this one is not so very important. Let Charlotte come through well and the child be healthy and I shall ask nothing more of this occasion.”

  How long the waiting was! George remembered when Hannah's children were born. He had not suffered in the same way because he had not known the precise time of her travail. He must stop himself thinking of Hannah. Hannah was dead.

  "Dead, dead," he repeated. And the mischievous voice which he heard now and then in his head whispered: "Is she, George? Are you sure of it?”

  "Hannah is dead," he repeated. "The children are well cared for. Hannah is dead ... dead.”