As they grew up so did they become more expensive. Such a large family needed servants and tutors, a constant renewal of wardrobes and quantities of food. They were a healthy, lusty brood, with the exception of Sophia who was apt to be fretful; and in addition there were the three elder girls.

Fanny continued to be the chief cause for concern. Dorothy had given at Gyfford Lodge a great fête champêtre for her coming out and in spite of the fact that it had poured with rain it had been well attended. But Fanny did not make friends easily. She was without the good looks of the rest of the family, lacking in charm and overloaded with self-pity; in addition she was quick-tempered, not as intelligent as the other girls and inclined to be coquettish in a way which sent men scurrying from her side.

Dorothy was often in despair about her prospects. She was no longer very young and there had been no offers of marriage. This was, she had to admit, a mixed blessing, for she had lent William the money which was to provide the dowries and if Fanny had wanted to marry she would have had to ask William for it.

Then oddly enough an elderly gentleman named William Bettesworth offered marriage to Fanny. He was a theatre-goer and Dorothy had been long aware that he came often when she was playing. Sometimes he came to the Green Room and if he could have a word with her was very happy indeed. He admired her greatly; he was in fact in love with her; and one day when Fanny came to the theatre to see her mother he was introduced to her, and since she was Dorothy’s daughter, he was deferential and extremely attentive.

He seemed to have come to the conclusion that since he could never aspire to being Dorothy’s lover, her daughter was the next best thing, as he desired above all things to be connected with the genius of his favourite actress. He proposed to Fanny and was accepted.

Dorothy was uneasy; but then she would always be uneasy about Fanny.

She would have to produce the dowry which fortunately would be paid over a number of years. This would mean broaching William to honour the bond he had given her, She hated doing this because she knew that William was getting deeper and deeper into debt with each passing year. He had suffered some bad attacks of gout and this had depressed him, so she did not want to ask him for money.

Then Mr Bettesworth died suddenly, but before his death he had made a will in which he left a little money to Fanny providing she would take his name.

So Fanny became known as Fanny Bettesworth which gave rise to rumours that William Bettesworth had in fact been her father and that she was not the daughter of Daly as had been supposed. Another rumour was that Dorothy had had two illegitimate daughters before she met Ford – Daly’s and Bettesworth’s.

It was all very unpleasant but the press could not let such an opportunity pass.

One blessing was that Dorothy did not have to provide the dowry; but she very much wanted the girls to marry. Like her mother she was becoming obsessed by the idea of marriage. She felt it was the only secure and respectable way of life.

There were also Dodee and Lucy to be considered.

The theatre world was startled into incredulity by the sudden appearance in its midst of a boy of about thirteen to fourteen years who after playing briefly in the provinces came to London and took over many of the tragic roles. He was hailed as a genius and people flocked to see him.

Dorothy first met him when he was brought to her dressing room by his father. She was immediately struck by his unusual good looks and charm of manner; he had a certain diffidence about his abilities and seemed not greatly impressed by all the clamour which his acting aroused.

His name was William Henry West Betty known generally as Master Betty, the young Roscius; and no other actor nor actress on the stage was in such demand as he was.

The whole theatre-going world seemed to dote on him. When he began playing Kemble’s Shakespearean roles, Kemble was furious. No one wanted to see Kemble any more; they preferred Master Betty in his roles. When Kemble attempted to speak a prologue he was hooted off the stage with cries of ‘We want Betty’. Kemble retired temporarily on a plea of ill health; it was beyond his dignity to stay and be looked upon as inferior to a mere boy. The dignity of Sarah Siddons was also impaired. A pleasant state of affairs, she grumbled, when a mere boy came in and all the years of service were forgotten.

Dorothy was the only leading actress who was not affected. Comedy roles were not for Master Betty.

He might enchant all with his Hamlet but he could not play Peggy in The Country Girl nor Nell in The Devil to Pay, and the public continued to want these parts.

But when Betty played the streets were filled with people trying to get into the theatre; many people fainted and inside the theatre there was chaos. People paid for boxes and when they arrived found that others who had paid pit prices had climbed into them and taken possession. There was pandemonium throughout the theatre.

Sheridan was delighted, for Betty had saved him from ruin. In the month the boy played at Drury Lane he brought in more than seventeen thousand pounds.

The public was mad for Betty. Everything he did was wildly applauded. His father managed his affairs and demanded high prices for him which were readily paid. There was no actor or actress in London who could fill a house like this wonder boy.

William went to see him and was enchanted by his acting like everyone else. Dorothy sat with him in his box and was not so sure of young Betty. It was true that he had passion for acting; he lived the part, but her professional eye could detect faults and she doubted whether when he lost his youth he would seem so wonderful. It was in fact his youth which made him a phenomenon. He could not play Hamlet as Kemble could. His tragedy could not be compared with that of Sarah Siddons. The public were in fact worshipping youth and the ability of a boy so young to act as he did – which Dorothy was prepared to admit was remarkable. But William declared the boy to have genius and Dorothy, not wishing to be accused of professional jealousy, did not protest. William sent for him to come to the Green Room and then invited him to St James’s Palace. Such genius must not be set aside, he declared to Sheridan, who listened sardonically.

Really, Clarence was an old fool, he thought. Just because he lived with a famous actress he thought he had a place in the dramatic world. And he was deluded like the rest. Let him be. The more young Betty was feted the better for Drury Lane; and Sheridan had no illusions at all – he had lost them all twenty years before. He saw quite clearly that what Master Betty had which greater actors lacked was that most desirable and transient gift of Youth.

‘We will have young Betty’s portrait painted,’ declared William.

‘He must be painted as he is now… at this stage. I will arrange it.’

And he did and even went to James Northcote’s studio to watch him at work.

For the whole of that winter season there were few the public wanted to see but Master Betty.

But the next year when he came back the play-goers had lost interest. Master Betty was a little older; he was no longer a novelty.

They preferred Kemble. They no longer crowded the streets to get in to see Betty. They were critical of him.

Betty was wise. He had made a fortune. He retired to obscurity to enjoy it; and that was the end of the nine days’ wonder of the young Roscius.

Bliss at Bushy

WILLIAM HAD FOLLOWED the course of the war against France with great interest and as great a resentment. Through the years he had kept up a friendship with Nelson and he followed the latter’s exploits with admiration and delight.

‘I should have been a Nelson,’ he told Dorothy, ‘if they had not stopped me.’

William, Dorothy admitted to herself, was inclined to see himself rather larger than life. In the Lords he believed himself to be a Chatham when in fact his verbose speeches were yawned over by his fellow peers and ridiculed in the press. But he was never meant to be a politician. It might have well been that he would have been a great Admiral.

When Nelson was wounded and lost an eye and arm William had mourned with him; and he had been the first to congratulate him when he came to England and insisted on his visiting Bushy that William might fight over his battles with him in his imagination while Nelson drew plans and explained how everything had taken place.

William would rage and storm after Nelson went because he was not going to sea with him. He was rather difficult to live with at such times; particularly when he suffered from one of his gouty turns.

When he heard that Nelson had fallen at Trafalgar his joy in the great sea victory was diminished by his grief. He came to Bushy to be comforted by Dorothy. He took Frederick on his knee and George and Henry stood beside him while he talked of the glorious sea battle which crippled the wicked Napoleon’s power and how Admiral Lord Nelson had saved England from the tyrant. He told of how he himself had served under the great man and that if he had not been his father’s son and been held back from following his career he would have been with Nelson on that great day.

The boys listened bright-eyed. They had all decided they would be sailors or soldiers.

Dorothy, watching and thinking of Lord Nelson dying in Hardy’s arms on the flagship Victory, rejoiced that they were so young. The war would be over before they were of an age to fight.