‘Tell me how you did it,’ she asked. ‘I suppose we could say it was a clever hoax.’
‘My father was a great admirer of Shakespeare and I wanted to give him a gift. There was nothing he would like so much as a relic of Shakespeare whom he admires more than any man. I had nothing, so I forged a document and put a seal on it from an old one. I work in a lawyer’s office and I can get old parchments and seals easily – and I made up this Shakespeare relic and gave it to him. He went wild with delight. And I thought if I could produce a document like that why not a Shakespeare play? So I wrote the play on paper I got from the office… and I knew it was the right sort because we have documents in the safes going back two hundred years and more. Then I made up this story about the trunk and everyone was so excited. I almost believed it was true myself.’
‘And now you are heartily wishing that you had not been so foolish.’
‘It didn’t prove what I wanted to prove.’
Dorothy looked at him sadly. Poor boy. She did not know what action would be taken against him. Fraud such as this was surely criminal; but Sheridan might not take action because he was going to look rather foolish if he did, and the last thing Sheridan the politician must do – even if the theatre manager did not mind – was to look foolish.
She told the boy this to comfort him. And he went on to tell her how he hated being a lawyer’s clerk; how he longed to be a writer. He had read about Thomas Chatterton the poet who had taken his own life at a very early age. Why? Because he was not appreciated. What chance had people to prove their ability? It was only after they were dead that they were appreciated.
‘And so what you wanted to do was to prove that it was not quality which won approval; that the public likes what it is told to like. Then I would say that you have learned a valuable lesson tonight. If you want the appreciation that is given to Shakespeare you must produce work like his.’
‘Why are you so kind to me, Mrs Jordan? Why do you shelter me here?’
‘Perhaps because you are young, and it is hard for the young. Perhaps because I have a daughter who is headstrong like you and wayward and envious… Who knows?’ She yawned. ‘It has been a tiring night. When you are rested I should leave this house. Go out of Town for a while and then when the affair is forgotten, which it soon will be, go back to your father’s house, confess everything and be a good lawyer.’
‘I shall never forget your kindness to me, Mrs Jordan.’
But she laughed wearily and said she was going to bed.
The next morning young William Ireland had left and she never saw him again.
An important birth
AS THE SUMMER passed into autumn everyone was eagerly awaiting the birth of a child to the Princess of Wales, but none more eagerly than the Prince. In his anxiety he was often at Petersham Lodge and would pace up and down in a state of the most desperate tension.
‘She must succeed, William,’ he would cry. ‘I do not know what I shall do if this fails. I cannot go near her again, and yet they will insist. Oh, how fortunate you are! You don’t know how fortunate. No one could who had not had to marry that… monster.’
He played with little George, his namesake. The child was excited by colourful Uncle George who had no objection to being climbed over and who answered the childish prattle of his nephew with an amused good temper.
‘The Prince loves children,’ said Dorothy to William. ‘He will be much happier when the child is born – not only because he so badly needs an heir, but because he will have a child of his own.’
A startling event occurred that November.
The King was on his way to open Parliament and the people lined the streets to see his carriage pass. It was not exactly a loyal crowd for many had gathered there to protest about conditions in the country and to remind the King that wages were too low, the price of bread too high. The King might be parsimonious in his household but he had the inevitable debts which had to be met through taxation. The Prince of Wales was notoriously extravagant. The amount of his debts which had been disclosed just before his marriage had shocked everyone deeply.
There was too much high living on one side; too much poverty on the other. The tragedy across the Channel was too close to be ignored. It was never far from the King’s mind and he could not help wondering how far it was from his people’s.
There were shouts of ‘Down with Kings’ as the King’s coach trundled along. He made no sign of having heard. He had never been lacking in courage and at the time of the Gordon Riots had appeared among the people in person and had himself taken the bold action which had quelled that mob violence. King George would always do his duty. His trouble was that he rarely knew what it was.
As the carriage passed an empty house a shot was fired. It missed the carriage but the King was aware of it.
He continued to sit upright, looking neither to the right nor the left.
‘Your Majesty,’ said his equerry who was riding with him in the coach, ‘do you think we should turn back?’
‘What for, eh?’ asked the King. ‘Because of a shot. Why, if my time has come then it has come. God disposes of all things and I trust Him to save my life. If he does not wish it to be saved then it will not be.’
His calm was an example to all and he went on to Parliament, performed the ceremony as though nothing had happened to disturb him and started on the journey back.
This was even more stormy. Stones were thrown at the royal carriage, one of which caught the King on the arm. A bullet whizzed past his ear and buried itself in the upholstery of the coach.
The King glanced at it.
‘A few inches nearer,’ he said, ‘and that would have been the end of George III.’
When he returned to St James’s, it was to find the Queen and her daughters in a state of agitation. News that the King had been shot had reached them and they had expected to see him carried home.
‘You see me unharmed,’ he said. ‘It was not God’s will that I should die yet.’
The Queen sent for William and when he arrived embraced him without much warmth. There was nothing unusual in that. The Queen had little affection for any of her children except the Prince of Wales; and although she insisted on spending a great deal of time in the company of her daughters it was because she liked to have them in constant attendance.
She was critical of William. William had to some measure escaped from the family. He was living a non-royal existence in that house of his at Petersham; and no one would guess that he was one of the King’s sons. He seemed to be perfectly content to live this life, hardly ever came to court unless summoned and behaved like a simple country gentleman.
It was due to that actress, thought the Queen – a connection which, as his mother and Queen of England, she deplored.
‘You have heard, William, that His Majesty suffered an unfortunate experience on his way back after opening Parliament?’
‘Yes. Everyone is talking about it. I trust His Majesty is not suffering from the shock.’
‘His Majesty will always do his duty and his duty in this case is to ignore the action of a maniac. I wish every member of the family were as conscious of his duty.’
‘Oh, I think we all are, Mamma, when the occasion arises.’
‘I am glad to hear you say so, for it could very well arise… for you!’
William looked uneasy.
‘Yes,’ she went on. ‘If your father had been killed by that bullet…’
‘God forbid!’ cried William.
‘Indeed yes. It could have been disastrous… and even now… in your father’s state of health…’
‘He is ill?’
‘Come, William, let us be frank within the family. Your father’s derangement six years ago gave us all great cause for anxiety. And you must know, as we all do, that he has never been the same since. It could happen again… and then…’
William was growing worried. It was a subject to which his mother had never referred before. There was some purpose behind this.
‘This child should soon be with us. If all goes well I shall be greatly relieved. If not…’
‘But surely, Mamma, all is well. I heard excellent reports of Caroline’s health.’
‘Child-bearing is always uncertain. I pray that Caroline will be delivered of a healthy boy… or girl. But if anything should go wrong…’
‘Please don’t mention it.’
‘You are a superstitious sailor! Don’t be foolish, William. We have to face facts. If something should go wrong, George will never live with her again. I can’t say I blame him. The creature is… impossible. Mad, I think. There cannot have been a Princess in the whole of Europe less suited to your brother. If he had listened to me… But it is too late now. He says he has done his painful duty. If this attempt fails there will never be another. And it would be heartless to expect it of him.’
‘Perhaps he will change his mind.’
The Queen’s burst of laughter was far from mirthful.
‘Frederick’s wife is barren and he won’t live with her. I wanted to remind you that you are the next in line. If Caroline fails, you will have to do your duty, William.’
‘I have other brothers…’
‘You are the next in seniority.’
‘I am sure one of the others…’
‘Why do you think you get a pension from the State, my son, if it is not for services which will be demanded of you? Your private life is a matter for scandal. Is there not one of you who can live decently?’
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