The Third George: (Georgian Series) (30 page)

William Pitt

*

George read William Pitt’s letter with great pleasure. Pitt was the greatest politician in the country, but he never forgot the respect due to the King.

There were times when George faced a terrible possibility and
because of this he wished to form a strong government in case it should be necessary to impose a Regency.

His perusal of state papers, his complete dedication to his role in life, his awareness that he had an ever-increasing knowledge of state affairs and that so many of his ministers had failed the country, gave him an impression that he knew as much as they did, that he was as capable of government. The shyness which had been due to his modesty in his youth disappeared; he had become stubborn and once he had made up his mind to a view he forced himself to believe it and cling to it at all costs. He was certain now that with Mr Pitt, and Mr Pitt’s chosen henchmen, he and they could govern the country in the best possible manner.

So he was delighted to receive Mr Pitt’s letter.

Mr Pitt would soon be with him and in discussing the new ministry he would forget that vague nagging fear which so far he had been unable to dismiss entirely. It had given him such a sense of insecurity to know that when that illness had beset him he had for some weeks failed to be himself. He could remember little of them but they had existed. He, George the King, had been a poor creature who could not control his own mind. A terrifying thought. But he had arranged for the Regency and the best way of ensuring that it did not happen again was to prepare in case it did.

Hannah was dead; and he need never think of her again. Charlotte was his wife and she was a good woman. She was expecting another child in September and during her pregnancies she hardly ever thought of anything else but the coming child.

Charlotte was a good wife – all that he wanted in a wife and he had nothing to complain of there. She accepted the fact that she must live quietly and not meddle.

‘I’ll not have women meddling,’ said the King aloud; and then he thought of his mother who had meddled for as long as he could remember.

‘It shall stop,’ said George aloud.

But there was Lord Bute whom he had had to give up for a while but who had crept back after a time; and that was all due to the Princess Dowager whose lover he was. It was – as such relationships go – a respectable liaison; but George would never approve of it. And another thing that rankled was that for so long he had believed it to be a platonic friendship, and everyone
had been aware of the true nature of that liaison, except George.

Bute had been kind to him in the past, but for what reason? In the hope of power when George came to the throne.

In that moment George made up his mind. He would never take Lord Bute’s advice again. George’s mouth was set in the familiar stubborn lines when he sat down and wrote to Lord Bute to tell him of his decision.

*

When he received the King’s communication Lord Bute was astonished that George could write to him in such a way. When he thought of all the friendship of the past, the protestations of appreciation, the renewed affirmations that he would never happily ascend the throne unless Bute was beside him, it was unthinkable.

Bute was ambitious, George had written, and he wanted to form a party with himself at the head of it. Moreover his advice in the past had been singularly unsuccessful.

Oh, no. It could not be true! But it was; and when Bute tried to see the King he was told an audience was not at the time possible.

George had changed; the amenable eager young boy had disappeared completely; and in his place was a king – a simpleton, for he would always be that, but a man who was unaware of his own inadequacies.

I protest [wrote Bute to the King] I could scarcely believe my eyes when I read your letter. It is possible that you cannot see the difference between men setting up to be leaders of a party for seditious or ambitious purposes and me. I shall never be in politics in any way, and I should not ask any man to follow me since I have lost your royal favour. But I must insist that I am everlastingly devoted to Your Majesty. And I end by entreating my dear Prince to forgive me for troubling him with so tedious a letter. But I trust and pray Your Majesty will believe that I am more devoted to you than any man in this country ever was before.

Having sealed the letter and sent a messenger off with it, Lord Bute sat down heavily in his chair and leaned his elbows on his table. His mind went back to days long ago, when that
other Prince of Wales, George’s father, had been alive, and one rainy day at the races he had been brought into the royal tent to play whist while they waited for the rain to stop. That had been the beginning; then he had been
persona grata
with the family; even the Prince of Wales had been fond of him; and when he had died it was true Bute had seen possibilities of ingratiating himself with the simple young boy who was destined to be king when his ageing grandfather died. Then of course the boy’s mother, the Dowager Princess of Wales, had fallen in love with him.

What a happy situation for a Scottish peer, debarred in so many ways from promotion simply because he was Scottish and not English, to find such favour in high places! And it had continued for so many years; there was a cosy domesticity about his relationship with the Princess, who was as devoted – perhaps even more so – to him as he was to her; and George had treated him as a father. And now … it had all changed.

He must report at once to the Princess for she might throw some light on the matter. As he rode through the streets he sat well back in his carriage. The people were slightly less hostile now, but they still talked of the jackboot and petticoat and could become offensive. If they made a riot, as they were constantly threatening to do, and it reached the King’s ears, he would be more against him than ever. He might even forbid him to see the Princess Dowager. Oh, no, she would never allow that; and she still had some influence with the King.

The Princess received him as warmly as ever.

‘Why are you disturbed?’ she said. ‘Please tell me what is wrong. Come and sit here, beside me, my dear. I do not like to see you look so worried.’

The Princess’s servants had all discreetly disappeared as they had been doing for years on the arrival of her lover; and they could be sure of privacy.

‘A most disturbing letter from the King. He does not wish to see me any more.’

‘Oh, no.’

‘It is true. Here it is.’

The Princess read it and made clucking noises. ‘George is a fool!’ she said. ‘He was always and always will be. He has no idea how to be a King.’

‘He is developing those ideas,’ retorted Bute. ‘He now believes he knows how to be a certain kind of king and, by God, he is going to be that kind of king. He has grown very stubborn. He makes up his mind and once it has been made up nothing on earth will shift him. And … he has turned against me.’

‘Something happened to George during that illness of his,’ mused the Princess. ‘He has grown very odd. That abrupt way of speaking … It’s almost irascible. He was never like that before. He was rather slow and even stuttered now and then. The illness has changed his personality, I fear. But perhaps he will change again and become more like his old self.’

Bute shook his head. ‘I do not think he will. He seems to have taken a great dislike to me and when I think of the affection he once had for me …’

‘My dear, he is ungrateful; but we have each other.’

‘I was afraid that he might attempt to stop my visiting you.’

‘That is something
I
would never allow.’

Bute smiled and turning to her embraced her warmly.

But he was thinking, a great deal of the excitement had gone out of the relationship. Now they were almost like a staid old married couple.

*

When he left the Princess Dowager Lord Bute called on Miss Vansittart, a young lady of good family who had been extremely pretty and still was, although she was no longer young. But she was still much younger than Lord Bute, who was over fifty.

She received him with pleasure and without surprise for in fact he had been calling on her for some time, finding her company a change after that of the Princess Dowager.

Miss Vansittart was humble and admired him whole-heartedly. She made no demands and that was very pleasant.

First they had talked and then it seemed so natural that they should become lovers in a quiet rather desultory way, which suited her nature and Lord Bute’s declining years.

He told her that the King had turned against him and she was incredulous that the King could be so lacking in gratitude.

She soothed him and he told her that the Princess Dowager was as devoted to him as ever and that theirs was too strong a relationship for the King to stop it, although he might try.

‘But I trust the Princess. She would never wish to part from me.’

Miss Vansittart plainly adored him and he told her that he would speak to the Princess, and when there was a vacancy in her household it should go to Miss Vansittart.

Miss Vansittart shivered with delight at the prospect of serving the woman who for so many years had been a wife in all but name, to the wonderful Lord Bute; and he soothed the hurt the King had done him by basking in her admiration and explaining to her all the perquisites which fell into the laps of those who served in royal households. She would learn, for he would teach her, how to come by these rewards.

When he left her he felt better, but when he returned to his house his wife, that most accommodating of women, demanded to know if he had been visiting Miss Vansittart.

He admitted this was so, for since she had never complained of his relationship with the Princess Dowager why should she with Miss Vansittart?

But it seemed this was different. ‘This will have to stop,’ she told him. ‘This woman is no Princess Dowager. This is quite a different matter.’

‘I believe you are jealous,’ replied his lordship.

‘Of course I’m jealous.’

‘Of this poor young woman?’

‘Exactly. What has this poor young woman to offer but herself? With the Princess Dowager it was different.’

‘What a sordid view,’ he commented with distaste.

But his wife laughed at him and said that she was not prepared to have to listen to gossip about her husband and Miss Vansittart.

Lord Bute felt melancholy. Life had ceased to smile on him.

*

Four days after William Pitt had received the King’s letter he was asking for an audience with His Majesty.

‘Bring him in, bring him in,’ cried George. ‘Don’t you know I wouldn’t wish Mr Pitt to be kept waiting, eh, eh?’

So Mr Pitt came hobbling in and the King looked at him with emotion. The greatest mistake he had ever made, thought George, was to allow Bute to persuade him to banish Mr Pitt.

But Mr Pitt bore no grudges. The King asked after his family and gave news of his own.

‘Young George is growing more bumptious every day. Frederick is imitating his brother; and I doubt not young William will be the same. As you know, the Queen is expecting another in September, ha! Well, well, we shall soon have a quiverful, eh? What?’

Mr Pitt, elegant in spite of his afflictions, gracious and ceremonious, made a little speech about the blessings of family life and added that the royal family set an example to all the families in the land.

This pleased George whose eyes filled with tears at the thought of his and his wife’s virtues and how well they filled their roles to the glory of England.

Then the conversation turned on the reason for Mr Pitt’s being in London and the King made it very clear that he placed himself in Mr Pitt’s hands.

He was disappointed in the Rockingham ministry; in fact ever since Mr Pitt had ceased to lead the Government he had been disappointed.

Pitt’s eyes gleamed with triumph when he heard this. He had come prepared to compromise; now he saw that there would be no need. It would be as he, Pitt, wished it to be.

He told the King that he would have great pleasure in forming a government which he would submit to His Majesty for his approval.

George warmly shook his hand and said: ‘It is a great relief. You understand, eh? A great relief.’

‘I do understand, Sir. I trust Your Majesty will have no reason to regret your decision. Your Majesty knows full well that I shall use all my powers to make this ministry a success.’

The King said: ‘Yes, yes, yes. I have never doubted that, eh? What? What?’

Mr Pitt bowed himself from the presence. The King had changed and he could not help feeling a little uneasy. The quick way of talking with the inevitable. ‘What? What?’ was already being noticed. And the change had come with his recent indisposition … that mysterious illness which no one quite understood, and about which there were so many rumours.

A Regency? thought Pitt. He grimaced inwardly. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. He would deal with such a contingency when and if it arose. In the meantime he had
carte blanche
to form a ministry.

*

Pitt presented his choice of a ministry to the King and it was accepted. The First Lord of the Treasury was the Duke of Grafton – a rather reckless choice perhaps, not because the Duke lacked ability and could not be trusted to support him, but because of the life he led. Descended from Charles II, Grafton had inherited many of that king’s characteristics – chief of which was his love of women. His existing liaison was one of the scandals of the Court. This was with Nancy Parsons, a notorious courtesan, the daughter of a Bond Street tailor who had first lived with a West Indian merchant named Horton with whom she had gone to Jamaica; Jamaica did not suit her however and she soon returned to London where she took many lovers; chief of whom was the Duke of Grafton. The Duke’s open dalliance with her – he was constantly seen with her at the races and in public places – his devotion to horse racing, his neglect of his wife, the mother of his three children, meant that his affairs were widely known and discussed. It was said by Horace Walpole, the wit and raconteur, that Grafton ‘postponed the world for a whore and a horserace’ and he went on to voice some pointed criticism against ‘The Duke of Grafton’s Mrs Horton, the Duke of Dorset’s Mrs Horton, everybody’s Mrs Horton.’ And such was the man whom Pitt had chosen to be First Lord of the Treasury.