Perdita's Prince: (Georgian Series) (7 page)

Perhaps, thought the Queen, if I had not been so busy being a mother I might have insisted on having some say. But it was too late now. George would never allow it; and she was becoming increasingly afraid of upsetting him, for when he was upset his speech grew faster than ever, the ‘ehs’ and ‘whats’ multiplied and that queer vague look came into his eyes.

Charlotte was sure that the most important thing was to keep the King calm; and today he was calmer than she had seen him for some time. She must keep him thus.

‘We should be seen about together,’ said the King. ‘Best place to be seen would be the playhouse. We’ll have a royal command performance, eh, what?’

‘With George accompanying us. That would be an excellent idea.’

‘So I thought. I’ll send to that fellow at the Drury Lane Theatre. Sheridan, eh?’

‘You mean you would command a performance of his play.’

‘I don’t like the name of it, and I hear it’s immodest. The title’s enough to tell you that:
The School for Scandal.
It’ll have to be Shakespeare, I dare swear. Sad stuff, Shakespeare. Never could see why there had to be all this fuss about it. But it would have to be Shakespeare. The people expect it.’

‘Well, you will ask this Mr Sheridan to submit some plays for your choice.’

‘Yes, I’ll do this. And we will have a family party, eh, what? Good for the Prince to be seen with us. Friendly, family party … I’ll send for this Sheridan and when I’ve chosen the play we’ll go to the playhouse. It’ll show we’re a united family, eh? And the Prince of Wales is but a boy yet, what?’

‘I think,’ said the Queen, ‘that it is a very pleasant idea.’

*

The Prince had shut himself into his apartments in the Dower House to write to Mary Hamilton.

There was one little doubt which was beginning to worm its way into his mind. It was a most romantic love affair this – but he did find that his eyes kept wandering to other personable young women. Not that his eyes had not always thus wandered; but there was a difference. A very disturbing thought had come to him. Would it be very unromantic, while devoting himself to his soulful love, to have a little fun with young women who did not set themselves such a high standard as Mary did?

He dismissed the thought as unworthy. So this love affair must be perfect. He must stop thinking of indulging in light frivolity with other women. The only one in the world who mattered was Mary Hamilton.

He looked at his reflection in the ornate mirror. It really was a very pleasing reflection. In his blue velvet coat which brought out the blue in his eyes, he was undoubtedly handsome. No one could look more like a prince.

He sat down to write a description of himself to Mary. It would amuse her, he was sure:

Your brother is now approaching the bloom of youth. He is rather above normal size, his limbs well proportioned, and upon the whole is well made, though he has rather too great a penchant to grow fat. The features of his countenance are strong and manly …

He rose and looked at himself again, changing his expression several times, laughing and frowning, looking pleading as he would to Mary and haughty as he would when entering his father’s presence. He continued:

… though they carry too much of an air of hauteur. His forehead is well shaped, his eyes, though none of the best and although grey are passable. He has tolerably good eyebrows and lashes,
un petit nez retroussé cependant assez aimé
, a good mouth, though rather large, with fine teeth and a tolerably good chin, but the whole of his countenance is too round. I forgot to add very ugly ears. As hair is generally looked upon as beauty, he has more hair than usually falls to everyone’s share, but from the present mode of dressing it, from the immense thickness necessarily required for the toupees and the length and number of curls it makes it appear greatly less thick than in reality it is. Such are the gifts that nature has bestowed upon him and which the world says she has bestowed on him with a generous hand.

He stopped to laugh at himself. This
was
amusing. He was beginning to see himself very clearly indeed. But to look in a mirror and write of what one saw was one thing; to assess the character quite another.

He took up his pen.

I now come to the qualities of his mind and his heart.

He paused, put his head on one side and began to write rapidly:

His sentiments and thoughts are open and generous. He is above doing anything that is mean (too susceptible even to believing people his friends and placing too much confidence in them, from not yet having obtained a sufficient knowledge of the world or of its practices), grateful and friendly when he finds a
real friend.
His heart is good and tender if it is allowed to show its emotions. He has a strict sense of honour, is rather too familiar with his inferiors, but will not suffer himself to be browbeaten or treated with haughtiness by his superiors.

He sighed. What a lot of virtues he seemed to possess. If she believed this Mary would surely find him irresistible. But he would not have her think he was boasting or wished to influence her unfairly. Indeed he would perhaps more likely win her esteem by giving her an account of his faults. Now for his vices, he went on. He hesitated. It was a strong word.

Rather let us call them weaknesses. He is too subject to give vent to his passions of every kind, too subject to be in a passion, but he never bears malice or rancour in his heart. As for swearing, he has nearly cured himself of that vile habit. He is rather too fond of wine and women, to both which young men are apt to deliver themselves too much, but which he endeavours to check to the utmost of his power. But upon the whole, his character is open, free and generous, susceptible of good impressions, ready to follow good advice, especially when he receives it from so affectionate and friendly a sister as you are.

He stopped again; the vices had somehow turned themselves into virtues. But that was exactly how they seemed to him. He was a good young man – or he would be to those of whom he was as fond as he was of Mary.

Mary, adorable Mary, who had inspired him with such a noble passion. No wonder he felt good when he wrote to her.

Adieu for the present. I will finish this in my next. I have been too favourable I fear for my manifold faults, my dearest, dearest Friend; I shall try to correct them, for you shall ever find me ready to lend an attentive ear to your advice. Great imperfections and faults I have, but ingratitude towards you shall never be reckoned among them. My attachment to you shall never cease with my life.

*

It was very pleasant to ride in Hyde Park in the company of Frederick. The people recognized him at once and cheered him as he passed. He always acknowledged their acclaim with a bow that was not only gracious but friendly. He wanted them to know that it was his desire to be liked by them. There was nothing of the German about him; he was entirely English. His father was
the first of the Georges to speak fluent English, but he had somehow remained a German. There was nothing Teutonic about the Prince of Wales; he had all the gaiety and charm of the Stuart side of the family and the people recognized this in him.

As for Frederick, he was happy as usual to see his brother’s popularity and to take second place, which was one of his most endearing traits and was one of the reasons why they were the closest friends.

Now, to ride through the park side by side, made him feel free. They might have equerries in front and attendants behind but they could forget them and chat together like two young men out to take the air, unencumbered.

The Prince was talking of the perfections of Mary Hamilton, but Frederick was aware that his brother was not insensible to the charms of some of the ladies who passed by. There were some beauties. Very different from the young women who made up the household at Kew – with one or two exceptions of course like Harriot Vernon and Mary Hamilton. Beautiful ladies in hoops and feathers, with tight bodices cut low to disclose exquisite necks and bosoms, brocade and silk gowns open in front or looped as a polonaise to show an ornamental petticoat. They were rouged and patched and made a brilliant picture in their big straw hats decorated with flowers and ribbons. And all eyes were on the elegant Prince who sat his horse so skilfully and those eyes were so languishing and, yes … inviting … that he found his attention straying from his pure love and an excitement possessed him.

‘Riding here like this, I feel free, Fred. By God, what the devil are we doing allowing ourselves to live like children in the nursery?’

And just at that moment a carriage came bowling towards them, a very ornate coach bearing the royal arms, and seated in it was their uncle the Duke of Cumberland who, perceiving them, immediately called to his coachman to stop.

He alighted and approached the Prince with tears in his eyes.

‘Your Highness, my dear,
dear
nephew. Forgive the intrusion but I cannot pass you by without the greeting due to your rank when I long to give you a warmer one. When all is said and done I am your uncle.’

Cumberland! thought the Prince. The rebel. The uncle who was concerned in the Grosvenor scandal and had such a fascinating wife!

Cumberland had taken the Prince’s hand and was kissing it with emotion.

‘And … Your Highness Prince Frederick. This is a happy day for me.’

‘We are pleased to have an opportunity of speaking with you, Uncle,’ said the Prince warmly.

‘I knew you would be. I trust this will be no isolated meeting. The Duchess and I have talked of you often … with tears in our eyes. We feel for you so much … my dear,
dear
nephew.’

Uncle Cumberland was determined to be friendly and the Prince had been right when he had said he was susceptible and ready to accept friendship when offered. Uncle Cumberland had quarrelled with the King and the Prince could well understand that, for his uncle represented the great exciting world outside the royal nurseries. He was implying by his words, his looks and his manner that he felt the Princes were badly treated by the King; they were shut away from the world, treated like children. What could be more humiliating to young men of seventeen and sixteen.

‘We hope you will do us the great honour of allowing us to entertain you sometime. There are men … and women …’ Just a little avuncular leer suggesting the delight this could be. ‘… charming men, beautiful women … witty, worldly … who long to make your acquaintance. They have caught glimpses of you now and then … in public places, and been enchanted. But it is not enough, nephews, it is not enough. Why at Drury Lane … where Sheridan’s
School for Scandal
has been playing to packed houses … there is the most delightful little play actress I ever set eyes on. Mrs Robinson is the most beautiful woman in London and London abounds with beautiful women. You should be meeting the world. It’s a shame to keep such charm … such elegance shut away at Kew. What a coat! What cut! What shoe buckles! I swear I never saw the like … Why Your Highness is the leader of the
ton
… and shut away at Kew. I have said too much. Why, nephews, I fear I am the most indiscreet man you ever met. But I let my concern for you run away with my tongue
… and my pleasure too … my deep, deep pleasure in this encounter.’

The Duke of Cumberland touched his eye with the corner of his lace kerchief and the Prince of Wales was a little affected too.

‘Well, I must not delay you. We are being watched. This will mayhap be reported. I shall be in even greater disgrace. But it’s a sad world when a loving uncle cannot have a word with his two handsome nephews. Adieu, my dear, dear boys.’

‘Let us rather say
au revoir,’
replied the Prince.

Cumberland kissed first George’s hand, then Frederick’s; and went back to his coach.

The Prince’s eyes were shining as they rode on.

‘Why,’ he demanded, ‘should we be kept shut away? Our uncle is right. We should be out in the world. We should not be living like children. I tell you this, Fred, I’ll not endure it much longer. The day is fast approaching when I shall
demand
my freedom. And when I have my rights I shall visit our uncle. It was most affecting, was it not? Why should he be kept from us merely because he fell in love with a woman.’

‘Lady Grosvenor was a married woman.’

‘Ah, love!’ sighed the Prince. ‘How can we be sure where it will appear. Is one supposed to wait for it to come
suitably
… as our father did with our mother. I hear our uncle’s wife is a most fascinating woman, Fred. I should like to meet her.’

‘It will never be permitted.’

The Prince pressed his horse into a canter.

‘All that, Fred,’ he prophesied, ‘will shortly be changed. You will see.’

Command performance at Drury Lane

RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN,
twenty-eight years old, witty, brilliant and the most successful playwright in London and manager of the Drury Theatre, was on his way to Buckingham House for an audience with the King. He knew what this meant: a royal command performance, always good for business. He was well aware that it was no use offering
The School for Scandal
. He laughed inwardly, thinking of some of the epigrammatical gems of that piece, of the screen scene, of his adorable but rather naughty Lady Teazle, and imagining the reception this would get from humourless George and Charlotte.

He was going to offer them
The Winter’s Tale
. It would have to be Shakespeare although he knew full well that the King found the great playwright dull: Still, his subjects expected him to see Shakespeare. Shakespeare was respectable, which seemed a little odd to Sheridan as some of the lines came into his mind – but Shakespeare had his place in the literature of the land and his poetry made up for his bawdiness. Any of the Restoration plays with their cynical approach to marriage would be definitely unsuitable for the King.