The Third George

by Jean Plaidy

  Mr. Fox was true to his word. He set about his new duties with alacrity. Bribes were offered in cash and in the form of titles; and places in the Government were given in order to form one which would be solidly behind Fox and obey his commands to vote as performing dogs at the crack of the whip.

  The Dukes of Devonshire, Newcastle and Grafton were expelled from their offices to make way for complacent men; and by December Fox was ready to go into the attack. Crowds surrounded the Houses of Parliament knowing what issues were at stake. Pitt was still the hero of the piece; Bute the black-hearted villain.

  In the Lords, Bute had to defend Fox's policy; and in the Commons, Fox had to face Pitt, who had arrived, swathed in bandages, wrapped in flannel, suffering hideously from his old complaint of gout. Pitt harangued the Government for three hours; he pointed out that their enemies had not yet been beaten; that if peace were made now they would recover and get to their feet again. Peace was a danger to England. Pitt's eloquence was, as ever, spellbinding, but his gout got the better of him and before he had delivered the final summing up he was obliged to retire to his seat. Then Fox rose and with reasoning, cold against Pitt's heat, logical against emotionalism, he defended the Government's policy for peace. France and Spain had agreed to great concessions, and England was suffering from acute taxation.

  Listening, Pitt seemed to sense defeat; in any case he was in agony. While Fox was speaking he got up and hobbled from the House, thus leaving his supporters without a leader.

  The motion was carried for the Government 319 to 65. A triumph for the Government, for Fox's policy and for peace.

  It was hardly to be expected that Pitt's supporters would quietly accept this state of affairs. It was known how the Government majority had been achieved. Bribery! was whispered throughout the streets; and the mob marched carrying a jackboot and petticoat which they ceremoniously hung on a gibbet. The feeling against Bute was rising. He was the arch enemy, the Scot who had dared to try to rule England, the lover of the Princess Dowager who with her ruled the King, and therefore ruled England. Even the King came in for his share of criticism and his popularity waned alarmingly.

  When he went to call on his mother, crowds following his carriage shouted. "Going to have your napkins changed, George?" And: "When are you going to be weaned?”

  George did not like it. It wounded him deeply; when he came back to his apartments he would weep and his headaches would begin; he felt that everyone was against him. When he could escape to Richmond, to the quiet life with Charlotte, he felt better. But he could not be a King and live the quiet life of a country gentleman.

  Bute was feeling ill; he had lost his swagger. It was an uncomfortable feeling, every time he went out, wondering whether the mob were going to set on him and murder him. Power such as this had been his goal; now it was his it was very different from the dream.

  And then John Wilkes went into the attack.

  John Wilkes was the son of a malt distiller of Clerkenwell, who had started a paper, in conjunction with a friend named Charles Churchill, in which he determined to attack the anomalies of the day. He had a seat in Parliament and was an ardent supporter of Pitt. As a man who must be in the thick of any controversy, the conflict between Pitt and the Government, under Fox's leadership, was irresistible to him.

  Wilkes was an extremely ugly man; his features were irregular and his squint diabolical; to counterbalance this he had developed a very keen wit and courtly manners, and with these he endeavoured to bring down what he called the unworthy mighty from their seats. The first of these was of course Lord Bute.

  As a young man Wilkes had been sent on the Grand Tour; on his return his parents had wished him to marry Mary Mead, the daughter of a London grocer, a very rich one and he had obliged.

  The marriage was a failure. Poor Mary could not keep pace with her husband's wit and brilliance.

  Wilkes came well out of the affair for he acquired not only a large slice of his wife's fortune but the custody of his daughter, Mary, who was the one person in his life for whom he cared.

  His great energy had had to find an outlet and he joined societies of ill repute such as the Hell Fire Club and Sir Francis Dashwood's club, the latter known as the Order of St. Francis. The motive of these clubs was profligacy and obscenity, all to be conducted in the most witty manner. The members of the Order of St. Francis met in a ruined Cistercian Abbey at Medmenham and there indulged in practices with which they tried to shock each other, by mocking the Church, and they were said on one occasion to have given the sacrament to a monkey.

  Membership of this society had brought Wilkes influential friends, among whom were Pitt's supporters, Sir Francis Dashwood and Lord Sandwich, and through them Wilkes became the High Sheriff of Buckinghamshire; and after an unsuccessful attempt to enter Parliament for Berwick- on-Tweed he was elected for Aylesbury.

  He was not a great success in Parliament, lacking the necessary eloquence; but his wit and humour secured him many friends; he was a most entertaining companion; he even made fun of his ugliness. He had never, he said, like Narcissus, hung over a stream and admired his countenance; one would not find him stealing sly glances at a mirror, a habit he had noticed among those to whom Nature had been a little more kind when dealing out good features. He made a cult of his ugliness. He was extremely virile; he had a deep need of sexual satisfaction; and in a short time he had gone through his fortune and his wife's and was looking for a means of making money.

  He discovered a talent for journalism; it was an exciting profession. To express one's views in print, to hear them quoted, to be a power in the land that was exactly what Wilkes wanted. If there was one man in the country whom Wilkes wished to send toppling from his pedestal, that man was Lord Bute. Bute was all that he was not: handsome, pompous and a lover to whom the Dowager Princess of Wales had been faithful for years; Wilkes was envious; he was cleverer than Bute, but Bute was a rich man and he a poor one. Bute had become head of the Government and he, brilliant Wilkes, was a failure in Parliament. And now Bute was forcing his desires on the country and he had done it through bribes. Here was a subject for a journalist.

  One of the papers, The Monitor, was criticizing the Government, but it was a scrappy little sheet, hardly worthy to be called a newspaper; and in retaliation Lord Bute had founded two papers, The Briton and The Auditor, and had set up the novelist Tobias Smollett as editor of the former. Under brilliant editorship The Briton was attracting some attention and was helping to put the case for Bute, who was becoming less unpopular as a result. This was something which Wilkes could not endure. He went to his crony Charles Churchill, a man who lived as disreputably as Wilkes himself, had separated from his wife as Wilkes had, and had made some reputation as a poet.

  "We should found a rival paper to The Briton," he suggested. "In it we could keep the country informed on Mr. Bute.”

  "What could we tell them that they don't already know?”

  That made Wilkes laugh. "We'll find plenty, never fear. Bribes! And what a gallant gentleman! I'll swear the people would like to know how very well he performs in the Princess's bed.”

  "Wilkes, you're a devil," cried Churchill.

  "And doing you the honour of accepting you as the same, my friend. Now to business.”

  In a very short time they were ready to bring out their paper.

  "What shall we call it?" Churchill wanted to know.

  Wilkes was thoughtful; then a lewd smile spread across his ugly face.

  "Why not The North Briton? After all it is going to be dedicated to the destruction of a gentleman from across the Border. Yes, that is it. The North Briton.”

  And so The North Briton came into existence. From its first number it was a success. There was nothing the people liked better than to see the great ridiculed, and when it was done with wit and humour it appealed more than ever.

  Wilkes saw that it was presented, and people were buying it in their thousands. Fox was represented as Bute's faithful henchma
n. They had brought about their measures and how? Wilkes was hiding nothing. He had the information at his fingertips. He knew how the peace treaty had been brought safely through the Commons and Lords. Bribery! Bribery and Corruption was something which Wilkes and Churchill in The North Briton were going to expose to public view.

  Wilkes and Churchill were for Liberty. Freedom of action; freedom of speech. That was what they stood for; and they were no respecters of persons either. No one was going to be considered if he offended against the laws of decency laid down by Wilkes and Churchill. And Bribery was an offence which made them cry out Shame.

  But the chief butt was the Scotsman. Very, very handsome, he was. He had a wife and numerous children. But he still had time and energy to serve the Princess Dowager. Did the people realize they had a boudoir genius in their midst?

  Another method of attack was a more serious one. George III was likened to Edward III, the Dowager Princess of Wales to Queen Isabella. And Bute had to have a part in this drama so he was of course Roger Mortimer.

  Together Wilkes and Churchill concocted a parody of Mountfort's Fall of Mortimer which they published with a dedication to that brilliant bedchamber performer, Lord Bute. The sales of The North Briton shot up; and Wilkes realized that this was the most amusing, the most exciting and the quickest way to change his financial position. It had been a stroke of genius to start the paper.

  All he had to remember was that they must stop at nothing; no one should be safe from their vitriolic pens. The simple fact was that the people loved scurrilous gossip; and the more shocking and the higher placed the people involved, the more the public liked it.

  "They shall have what they want," sang out Wilkes; and proceeded to give it to them. Henry Fox, seeing the way trends were going and by allying himself with Bute, he was naturally catching some of the odium which was showered on that nobleman, saw no reason why he should continue in office.

  Caroline was urging him to get out. He had promised, had he not, that as soon as he could do so, he would. He had told her that this last little fling was too important to be ignored. Well, he had done what was asked of him; he had shown them how to carry through the terms which Pitt had so violently rejected, so what further purpose could be served by remaining in office?

  Walking in the grounds of Holland House, his arm through that of his wife, revelling in the signs of spring all around them, Henry Fox told her that she was right. He agreed with her. Now that that odious man Wilkes had come out with his scandal sheet, no one was spared certainly not those in high places. The Government was going to sway to the attack of ridicule. If he were going to get out in that blaze of glory, then he should do so now, and the price of past services would be a title.

  "What do you think of Lord Holland, my dear?" he asked, smiling complacently about the park.

  "I think it would be ideal," Caroline told him; 'but only if you leave the Government and come into retirement so that we can spend more time together which would give me great pleasure and enable you to escape from the mudslinging of that hideous Wilkes, the general scorn with which the Government is beginning to be regarded, and the growing unpopularity of my Lord Bute.”

  "Wise woman," commented Fox. "Tomorrow I go to see my lord and with him to the King. I doubt not soon that your husband will be a noble lord.”

  "The sooner the better since it means your escape from the Government.”

  Mr. Fox presented himself to Lord Bute. Poor Bute! He was certainly losing his youthful looks.

  Being head of a government most definitely did not suit him. Fox laughed inwardly with grim satisfaction. These ambitious men who saw themselves as they were not! Let Bute go back to cosseting the Princess Dowager; he was very good at that. But countries needed more than cosseting.

  "My lord, I have come to tell you that my health is failing, and as I have done that which I gave my word to do, I can see no point in remaining longer in the Government.”

  Bute was alarmed. While he had had Fox's support he had felt secure. Crafty as his name, this man was a brilliant politician, who could be called a worthy rival to Pitt. Bute had clung to high office fervently, knowing that this man was supporting him; but now the sly fellow was withdrawing that support. He had had enough.

  "This is ill news," began Bute.

  "Nay, nay," cried Fox. "A man who is not in the best of health is a poor henchman. You, my lord, with that cleverness which has placed you in your present position, have no need of a poor sick fox. I have made up my mind to retire.”

  "This cannot be final.”

  "Alas, yes. My health demands it. I have promised my wife that today I would come to you and tell you that I intend to offer my resignation. I can be of no further use to you. Therefore I shall go with the title you promised me, to show the people that I am considered worthy of my reward.”

  "Title..." began Bute.

  "Baron Holland of Foxley, Wiltshire," said Fox. "And I should hope to retain the post of Paymaster.”

  Bute was astounded. How like Fox to ask for his title and a post which was almost a sinecure and brought in a considerable income.

  "I think even my enemies would agree," said Fox smiling, 'that the country owes me this' The King was deeply disturbed. He had read Wilkes's sheet. Those terrible accusations against his mother and Lord Bute! Did everyone know of them except himself? What a simpleton he had been! All those years when they had been together he had thought they were just good friends.

  And they had been living together as husband and wife; and the whole world knew ... except George, and was doubtless laughing at George for his simplicity.

  The King buried his face in his hands. There were times when he felt that the whole world was against him. He could trust no one not even his mother; not even Bute those two on whom he had relied all his life. Oh, yes, he could rely on Charlotte; because Charlotte was only a young girl who knew nothing of state affairs. She should never know. She should remain shut away from the Court which was wicked, anyway. Charlotte should retain her innocence; she should go on bearing his children. In August they would have another. Two already and not married two years.

  Yes, Charlotte was all he cared to think about these days. He was beginning to hate politics and mistrust politicians. But if he were going to be a good King he must understand these matters. The manner in which the peace had been passed through Parliament appalled him. Bribes! And that cynical Mr. Fox arranging it all!

  What pleasure to escape to Richmond when he could; to walk with Charlotte in the gardens there; to sit beside the baby's cradle and marvel at the fact that he was such a lusty healthy little fellow.

  And now Lord Bute was bringing Fox to him to tell him that the minister wished to offer his resignation, and as a reward for his services he would accept a barony and become Baron Holland; he wished to retain the post of Paymaster.

  "So you are leaving the Government, Mr. Fox, sir," said the King disapprovingly.

  "Your Majesty, my health has deteriorated and I am in no position to do honour to the high post which Your Majesty in your goodness bestowed on me.”

  George felt sick with annoyance and disappointment. Mr. Fox was lucky. When he wanted to extricate himself from a difficult situation he only had to resign; and get a title for doing it. There was nothing to be done. They could only let him go.

  On 19 April the King opened Parliament and four days later number 45 of The North Briton appeared. In this Wilkes commented on the Peace of Hubertsberg - which had followed the Peace of Paris as 'the most abandoned instance of ministerial effrontery ever attempted to be imposed on mankind'.

  George read the paper, for everyone was now reading The North Briton, anxiously scrutinizing it to make sure that they were not being ridiculed in it; and he found that Wilkes had dealt with him personally. The King's speech," wrote Wilkes, 'has always been considered by the legislature and by the public at large as the speech of the Minister.”

  This was an attempt to imply that he had no inte
ntion of attacking the King but was blaming the chief minister, George Grenville.

  "Every friend of this country," he went on, 'must lament that a Prince of so many great and amiable qualities, whom England truly reveres, can be brought to give the sanction of his sacred name to the most odious measures and to the most unjustifiable public declarations from a throne ever renowned for truth, honour and unsullied virtue.”

  When George read this he was not in the least taken in by the implication of loyalty. This was a sneer at himself, suggesting that he was at best a puppet. He was suffering from one of his headaches and he kept repeating the phrases of that article over and over again in his mind. He wanted to get right away. He was weary of his office. If only he could be like Mr. Fox and get away to the pleasure of his wife's company. But he was the King; he could not resign.

  George Grenville was asking for an audience. He came in clutching The North Briton and it was easy to see that he was as angry as the King.

  "We cannot allow this to pass, Your Majesty.”

  "So I thought," agreed the King. "We are submitted to insult, but what can we do?”

  "We can send a copy of The North Briton to the law officers of the Crown. This, in my opinion, is a seditious libel.”

  "Let it be done," said George. "It is time we took some action against this man Wilkes.”

  Lord Halifax and the Earl of Egremont as Secretaries of State were only too ready to issue the warrant which Grenville demanded. This gave permission for a strict and diligent search to be made in the offices of the seditious and treasonable paper, The North Briton, and for the authors of seditious libel to be arrested.

  Halifax's secretary arrived at Wilkes's house one night and read the warrant to him, but Wilkes pointed out that his name was not mentioned on the warrant and therefore it was not legal. So forcefully did he argue that the secretary retired, but the next morning he had presented himself at the offices of The North Briton.