by Jean Plaidy
Wilkes was arguing with him when Charles Churchill came in and looking straight at Churchill, Wilkes said: "Good day, Mr. Thompson. How is Mrs. Thompson? Does she dine in the country?”
Churchill immediately guessed what was happening and that Wilkes was warning him, so he replied: "Mrs. Thompson is in good health, sir. I merely called to enquire after your health before joining her in the country.”
And accepting Wilkes's kindest regards for Mrs. Thompson, Churchill disappeared and without delay went to the country to avoid arrest. Wilkes's arguments were waved aside and he was taken away protesting that he would sue them all for breach of the law. London was in an uproar.
Wilkes was arrested. This was a threat against the freedom of the individual; freedom of speech was in jeopardy and Wilkes was the defender of liberty.
Bute engaged Hogarth to draw a derisive cartoon of Wilkes, making him look even uglier than he was, so that it could be circulated throughout the City. Churchill, from a few miles out of the town, was able to retaliate with lampoons and songs about Bute and his followers. He made it clear to the people that Hogarth was in the pay of Bute, that he was an artist who worked for those who would pay him most, and his views were therefore worthless.
When, in May, Wilkes was brought up for trial he claimed privilege as a Member of Parliament and when he was released by Chief Justice Pratt, this was one of the biggest defeats the Government had suffered. Arrogant and impudent Wilkes returned to his offices. Now he was going to fight them, and his first step was to issue writs against those who had caused his arrest.
The City waited in breathless amusement for what would happen next. The jeers at Lord Bute were more offensive than ever; the King was often received in a hostile silence. Wilkes was the defender of liberty and the people's hero. All through that trying summer George escaped to Richmond whenever possible, but by the beginning of August it was time for Charlotte to come back to St. James's to prepare for the birth of the child.
Charlotte had been taking her English lessons regularly and had progressed considerably. Her accent was decidedly German but she was no longer in the irritating position of being unable to understand what people around her were saying. Not that she was allowed to talk to many people.
There were her women who attended to her needs but Schwellenburg had installed herself at their head and in spite of that warning they could not shift her from the position she had chosen for herself. There were so often those occasions when Charlotte could only express herself in German; then either Schwellenburg or Haggerdorn was needed.
Charlotte was aware of the manner in which she was restricted, but reminded herself that she had been pregnant most of the time she had been in England. Occasionally she heard scraps of conversation. She knew that Elizabeth Chudleigh, that bold lady-in-waiting, was the mistress of the Duke of Kingston, which surprised her, for the Duke had given her the impression that he was a scholarly man and, being so much older than Elizabeth, hardly the sort of lover one would have expected her to take. But perhaps it was his title which attracted her, although that was not much help to her as he did not marry her.
She wondered why Elizabeth was allowed to remain at Court, for her conduct was a little disreputable. She mentioned this to George who said he agreed with her. His mother though had recommended her and might be offended if Elizabeth were dismissed without consulting her.
"When next we meet I shall mention the matter," said Charlotte.
And George, who was preoccupied, merely nodded. Poor George, he did seem to be weighed down by his cares now. But he was delighted with her pregnancy of course.
"Why," she laughed, "I have little time to see England. All the time I have been here I have either been going to have a baby or having one.”
"Which is very laudable," added the King.
Yes, thought Charlotte, but there should be a little breathing space between babies. When she next saw the Princess Dowager she did mention Elizabeth Chudleigh but the Princess Dowager looked confused and muttered that she thought the woman was a good servant.
"She is a little frivolous," suggested Charlotte.
"Most of these women are.”
"Doubtless you do not know that she is the Duke of Kingston's mistress.”
"There are always scandals." The Princess Dowager flushed a little. "I doubt not that few of us are spared.”
It was very strange, thought Charlotte, because the Princess Dowager was usually so strict. When she, Charlotte, with George had attended balls after the birth of little George, the Princess had expressed her disapproval of such frivolity even to celebrate the birth of a Prince of Wales. Now she was being very lenient to Miss Chudleigh. And when Charlotte recalled Miss Chudleigh's arrogant and altogether complacent manner it made one wonder whether she had not some hold over the Princess.
What a strange thought! Women get strange ideas during pregnancies, she told herself; but she remembered that later when she heard Elizabeth say something about the King's fondness for Quakers and to say it with a little derisive laugh which could mean almost anything. Then Charlotte remembered the Lord Mayor's Show which they had watched from the Barclay house in Cheapside. Yes, the King was undoubtedly fond of Quakers.
St. James's! That grim dark prison of a palace. How different from dear Richmond. What a pity she could not go there to await the arrival of her second child. But no, the child must be born in London; he might be king if anything happened to little George which God forbid. But Kings and Queens had to be prepared for these contingencies.
All through the hot August days she waited. George was frequently with her and often seemed worried; in fact he had never been completely well since that illness he had had before the birth of little George. Politics worried him. There was always some trouble and now it was that ugly Mr.
Wilkes. Charlotte did not know what the trouble was all about, only that it was trouble. She tried to learn something of it during her brief sessions with her ladies who often disagreed together about the rights and wrongs of the affair. And when she tried to broach it with George he indulgently told her that she must not bother her head with this unpleasantness; it would be bad for the child. As for the Princess Dowager she said that the King would doubtless tell her all he wished her to know.
Where was the determined girl who had written to King Frederick? She seemed to have become lost in the mother. When Charlotte had first come to England she had imagined herself ruling this country with her husband; she had promised herself that she would try to understand state affairs so that she could be of use to him. But she was shut out from these affairs. When my baby is born, she promised herself, it will be different.
On 16 August, one year and four days after the birth of his brother George, Prince of Wales, Charlotte gave birth to her second son. He was a perfect child, strong and lusty. Now everyone was saying that Charlotte was going to be a real breeder. Two healthy boys in two years of marriage. What better sign than that.
The King was delighted. His cares seemed to drop from him. Nothing seemed to matter as he held the boy in his arms. Wilkes could rant and rave all he liked; his government could plague him; his disappointment in Bute was bitter, but he could endure that too when he thought of his growing family. Two boys and a wife who would bear him many more, he was sure. He was a lucky man.
The little boy was named Frederick Augustus and very soon he and his mother, with little brother George, were all enjoying the Richmond air.
A wedding in the family
It was hardly to be expected that Wilkes would not cause more trouble, and that he was determined to do this became obvious during that autumn and winter. The storm arose when he published an obscene poem called An Essay on Woman which was a burlesque on Pope's Essay on Man. There seemed to be little doubt that Wilkes himself had had a hand in the writing of this and as there were only twelve copies printed, he had apparently meant them only for circulation among those of his friends who delighted in pornography.
&nbs
p; One of the copies came into the possession of Lord Sandwich. When Sandwich and Wilkes were both members of the Medmenham Circle they had been friends until Sandwich had one day called to the Devil to appear before him. Wilkes knowing this was a habit of Sandwich's had previously acquired an ape which he had dressed up to look like the Devil and just as Sandwich called out to the Devil to appear, Wilkes arranged that the ape should be let in. Sandwich was so alarmed that he turned and fled in abject terror to the delight of Wilkes. Discovering the trick Wilkes had played on him Sandwich never forgave him, and when the Essay on Woman came into his hands he saw an opportunity of getting his revenge.
Only a few months earlier Sandwich had become one of the Secretaries of State and had changed his mode of life since the days when he had been one of the leading spirits of Medmenham. Now, expressing his horror that such a hideously obscene and blasphemous work should have been written and printed, he read parts of it to the House of Lords. Wilkes had written notes in the margin of the essay which he had signed with the Bishop of Warburton's name because Warburton had added notes in the margins of Pope's Essay on Man: and when Warburton heard that his name had been used on this foul document he rose in his wrath and castigated Wilkes whom he compared with the Devil. Then he apologized to the Devil for putting him in the same company as Wilkes. So fiercely did the Bishop rage that even those who had been inclined to support Wilkes turned against him. Wilkes had gone too far this time; and when Warburton suggested that proceedings should be taken against Wilkes, charging him with blasphemy, it was agreed that this should be done.
Meanwhile an attack was being made on Wilkes in the Commons, and during this the member for Camelford, Samuel Martin, referred to him as a coward and a scoundrel. Wilkes declared that he had no alternative but to challenge Martin to a duel.
Now the drama was at its height. Everyone waited for the outcome; and when Wilkes met Martin in Hyde Park and was wounded by him, popular excitement grew. The rumour spread that Wilkes's enemies had deliberately commanded Martin to wound Wilkes; and the mobs were out.
Always eager for excitement, they paraded the streets and when one of the City Sheriffs, on order from Parliament, proceeded to burn number 45 of The North Briton before the Royal Exchange, a crowd gathered to prevent him. The North Briton was captured and while one section of the crowd carried it through the streets in triumph, another remained by the fire to throw in jackboots and a petticoat or two to show who they thought were behind all the trouble.
Wilkes meanwhile, on pretext of being wounded in the duel with Martin, remained in his house and did not leave it although he was summoned to appear at the bar of the House of Commons to answer for his sins. This, Wilkes had no intention of doing, and when he saw that he could no longer avoid appearing before his judges he slipped over to the Continent where he fell in with a well-known courtesan named Corradini with whom he set up house. Friends of his, determined to support Wilkes and the cause of freedom, sent him money; and Wilkes settled down for a few months of pleasure, amused to think how he had outwitted them all on the other side of the Channel.
Wilkes's departure did not make matters easier. There was trouble over the tax which Dashwood as Chancellor of the Exchequer proposed should be levied on cider, and a clash in the Commons when George Grenville sought to defend the measure, pointing out the necessity of imposing new taxes.
"Since there was such objection to the cider tax," said Grenville plaintively, 'he wished gentlemen would tell him where to lay them.”
Pitt rose and imitating Grenville's voice repeated the words of an old song: "Gentle shepherd, tell me where.”
Grenville furiously demanded if it was to be permitted that gentlemen were to be treated with contempt. At which Pitt made a deep bow and hobbled out of the House. From then on the mob shouted after Grenville whenever he appeared; and he was known as the Gentle Shepherd. This was typical of the day. The people seized on anything that caused ridicule and raised a smile.
There was trouble and laughter side by side; and the mob was always ready to make a carnival of some poor politician's misfortune.
But their greatest target was Bute. No one could take the place of him. If his carriage appeared they would leave everything to follow it. Some were armed with cudgels; and the Princess Dowager lived in terror that something would happen to her lover. When he came to her she would embrace him warmly and tell him that she trembled to think of what could befall him.
"I cannot endure this," she said. "I am terrified.”
Bute passed his hand over his brow. How he had changed! In the old days he had believed everything was possible; now he accepted defeat.
"Nothing is what I thought it would be. It is due to Pitt. If we had been able to keep Pitt all would have been well." He grimaced.
"I am no Pitt, Augusta," he said.
"That man!" she said. "He deserted us.”
Bute smiled and taking her hand kissed it.
"So loyal. I don't deserve you, Augusta. Let us face the truth. I have failed.”
"What nonsense! You don't know the meaning of failure.”
"If you had been with me in the carriage this afternoon; if you had heard the shouts of the mob ...
seen their menacing faces...”
She shuddered. "Please don't talk of it.”
"It exists, Augusta, my love. You see, I thought I could be a great politician. The fact is, I can't. I haven't the genius for it ... like Pitt and Fox. Men like that... they start up out of the crowd and they make the rest of us look like dwarfs in comparison.”
"My dear, you are overwrought. If I could do what I wished to that senseless mob ...”
"They are not entirely senseless. They are aware of greatness. You have heard them cheer Pitt.”
"Don't talk of that man. But for him ...”
"My dearest, he is a great politician. Let us face it. The country needs him at the head of affairs.
While I am there I am bringing discredit to the King. Do you know that since I have been in office his popularity has waned considerably? And always they talk of us.”
"Oh, my dear, what do you propose to do about it?”
"Resign. Advise the King to call back Pitt and try to make some arrangement with him.”
Augusta put her face against his coat. It was not what they had planned. She and he had believed they would rule the country together; they would guide the King. But it had all gone wrong somewhere. It had started when Mr. Pitt refused to be guided and showed so clearly that if he were going to take a part in leading the country he would be in sole command.
To give up their plan was defeat. And yet if she wished to keep her lover safe, if she wished their relationship to continue in a dignified way, she must take him away from the glare of publicity.
What joy it would be not to have to fret as to what was happening to him every time he was in the streets! She wanted power; but she was a woman who most of all wanted a happy domestic life.
She looked upon Bute as her husband, in fact more so than she had ever regarded Frederick. His safety came first, and the ability to go on living together as husband and wife as they had for so many years.
"Yes," she said, 'go to George and tell him that you can no longer continue.”
Bute embraced her warmly. "To be with you ... to have you care for me as you do ... that is enough for any man," he said.
George showed no great surprise nor disappointment as he listened to Lord Bute.
"My health will not stand the strain," explained Bute. "By remaining in office I can only do a disservice to Your Majesty.”
George looked at his dearest friend with lack-lustre eyes. Who would ever have thought to hear him say that! Bute, always so full of vitality; the man to whom he had turned in his youthful dilemmas. And now he was confessing to age, ill-health and inability to hold his post.
I believe you to be right," said the King.
Bute was hurt that George should take it so calmly. He had expected a show of d
eep regret, even pleading that he would continue in office. It was disconcerting. But George had changed lately.
He too was disillusioned.
"If Pitt would take over the leadership," began Bute.
But the King shook his head. "He dictates to me. I will not be dictated to.”
"Grenville is the man, then," went on Bute.
"Yes, I think it must be George Grenville.”
Bute took his leave and reported to the Princess Dowager that the King had taken his decision to retire very calmly. He felt that George was slipping away from them and clearly believed that he could manage very well without them.
"You don't think," said the Princess Dowager, 'that Charlotte is weaning him from us?”
"Charlotte! But she is never allowed to take part in anything.”
"No, but he goes to Richmond and it is all very cosily domestic there. She is now speaking English tolerably well and can understand what is going on around her. She is not the meek creature some believe her to be. You remember that letter she wrote to Frederick of Prussia. Do you think a girl who could write such a letter would be content to remain in the background?”
"No, I do not. I think there is much in what you say.”
"And he goes to her whenever possible. He seems to have an affection for her. These babies of hers ... they make a bond between them. She is not yet pregnant again or if she is I have not heard of it, but she had these two boys in a very short time, and the King is delighted with her. Oh, she's plain enough but George was always amenable. Yes, I think Charlotte might well be influencing him.”
"He has always said that he would never be influenced by women.”
"Poor George," smiled Augusta. "He does not always understand himself.”
The Princess Dowager called on the Queen at Richmond. Charlotte was looking well and told the Princess that she found life at Richmond to her taste, and it was very pleasant when the King could spare time from his duties to stay with his family.
