Виктория Холт - The Third George

George suffered depressions. He believed that everyone was against him. He wrote to Lord Bute: Everyday I meet with some insult. I have been in a fever ... My very sleep is not free from thinking of the men I daily see ... Excuse the incoherency of my letters. But a mind ulcerated by the treatment it meets with from all around, it is the true cause of it.

When Bute received this letter he was disturbed. In the first place the fact that George had written to him seemed to imply that he had forgotten the break in their friendship and believed himself to be back in the old days of confidence. He talked to the Princess about it and they were very disturbed.

But during a moment of intense clarity the King decided that he might at some time become unfit to govern and that it was necessary to bring into force a Regency Bill. He consulted Blackstone, the authority on law who told him that a new Act would not be necessary as the present Act dealt with all possibilities. In the event of his dying or becoming unable to govern the Princess Dowager would automatically become Regent.

George said: "My mother is no longer young." And he thought: She and Lord Bute would rule together and neither of them is capable of it.

"No," he went on, "I wish to introduce a new Regency Bill and I will name my Regent and it shall be a secret until I allow it to be known.”

Blackstone said that this was a matter for him to discuss with his ministers and the King hastily called them together to tell them of his decision. After much discussion the Bill was passed which would empower the King, in case of his death or incapacity, to name the Regent, limiting the choice to the Queen or members of his own family.

To Charlotte life had become alarming. She was not sure what was going to happen next. The illness of the King, and his strange behaviour which continued intermittently worried her. And she knew that in the streets there were whispers about the King's strange malady. But as the weeks passed he grew better; and in August in Buckingham House she gave birth to her third son. He was christened William; and as she held him against her and rejoiced in his coming she told herself that no one on earth could say he was not the legitimate son of the King and Queen of England.

In the nursery at Kew, George reigned supreme. At four years old he was precocious, clever, bright, aware of his importance. He heard the servants whispering about the Prince of Wales and he knew it was himself.

"One day," he boasted to his brother Frederick, "George the Prince will be the King.”

Poor Frederick tried to imagine how a boy of four could be king and wear a crown. Wouldn't it keep slipping off his head?

"Silly child," retorted George, "I'll have a big head then.”

"God help us," said Lady Charlotte Finch, their governess. "It's big enough now.”

Young George was seen surreptitiously touching his head to see if it really was big enough to carry the crown. The servants, watching, laughed together. "Master George can't wait," they said.

"Not yet five and imagining himself the King already.”

But of course they all loved George and did not mind his imperious ways one little bit. He was so handsome with his golden hair, almost red, and his clever way of talking, for George had never talked like a baby. His big blue eyes looked serenely on the world, knowing that it was made for his benefit.

"There is not much of his father in him," they said.

George enjoyed those rare days when he rode into London with his parents and the people cheered. There were always special cheers for George. He would bow and wave very solemnly because it was a duty of royalty graciously to accept the people's acclamation; and the more what his nurses called 'old fashioned' he was, the more the people liked it. He enjoyed watching the guards from the windows of St. James's. "One, two, one, two," he would call to them; and they would salute or march to his orders. Everybody loved George.

"Why," he asked imperiously of Lady Charlotte, 'can't we live at St. James's. There are no soldiers here.”

"Kew is best for children," replied Lady Charlotte.

"I am not children. I am the Prince of Wales.”

Then she would kiss him and say he was not going to let them forget that, was he?

"Could you forget?" he asked incredulously.

"Not with you around, my precious." Then he would feel very important until she said: "Now eat up your dinner and no more playing about with that nice fish.”

"I like my meat days best," he confided.

"I don't doubt it," replied Lady Charlotte.

"I like meat days too," put in Frederick, who always liked what George liked.

"Well, this is the menu your Papa and Mamma have arranged for you, so we must keep to that, mustn't we? Otherwise we should be disobeying the King.”

"When I'm king I'll eat meat every day.”

"So shall I," echoed Frederick.

"Silly. You'll never be king.”

Frederick looked as though he was going to cry. Poor little Fred, although only a year in time separated them, George seemed to be more than that year older.

"Never mind," said Lady Charlotte, 'eat up this nice fish instead.”

Frederick allowed it to be spooned into his mouth while George looked on contemptuously.

Heavens above, thought Lady Charlotte. If this is how he is at four what'll he be like at ten ... at fifteen or eighteen when he comes of age? The King and Queen were undoubtedly right to insist that the children lived simply at Kew. George was pushing his fish about his plate, breaking it into little bits which he told Fred were soldiers.

"It's fish not soldiers," said Lady Charlotte, 'and to be eaten, not played with. Now eat it up or I shall have to go and see your Papa and Mamma and tell them that you are a naughty boy who won't eat his fish.”

George looked at Lady Charlotte's nursery gown with contempt.

"Pray," he said, 'are you well dressed enough?”

Lady Charlotte raised shocked eyes to the ceiling.

"I should have thought," went on George, 'that your gown would not be good enough to visit the King in. When I am King…”

"Fish is to be eaten," said Lady Charlotte. "So I pray you treat it as it was meant to be treated.”

The Prince was so struck with this observation that he shovelled two mouthfuls of fish into his mouth while he considered it. Then he remarked: "I like meat best.”

Lady Charlotte was silent, thinking that the King was a little dogmatic about the children's food, for he was so anxious that they should not get fat. He would come into the nursery and say: "Too much weight is not good for them, eh? What? Too much fat not good for them. What?”

He had talked in this odd way since his illness, repeating his sentences and putting them in the form of questions which were not meant to be answered.

Perhaps he was right, but Lady Charlotte would not have pared all the fat from the children's meat. Breakfast was a dish containing two thirds milk and one of tea, not very well sweetened, and toast without butter. Dinner which was taken at three in the afternoon and supper at half past eight consisted of soup, usually clear and never fatty, lean meat (on meat days) with clear gravy and greens. They were encouraged to eat as much of the greens as they could, and when they had fish they were not allowed butter with it. They would have fruit tart from which the pastry had been removed so that it could scarcely be called fruit tart at all. On Thursdays and Sundays they might eat an ice and choose the flavour.

It was a simple diet and if anyone questioned the wisdom of it, the King would say: "They look healthy on it, eh? What? Are you suggesting the Princes are not healthy, eh? What?”

And everyone had to agree that the little boys with their pink faces and bright blue eyes did indeed look healthy.

"Now come," said Lady Charlotte, 'after dinner we are going to visit the King and Queen.”

Young George was looking at her gown and she said with a laugh: "Have no fear. I shall change my gown.”

That seemed to content the boy and he turned his attention to the plate of fruit pie minus piecrust which had been placed before him.

Charlotte sat in the window at the Lodge waiting for the King's return.

"He should be here soon," she said to Schwellenburg in English, for she had insisted that they always speak English, because it was the only way of making any progress in that difficult language.

"He will not wish to be late for the children.”

"Will not be," muttered Schwellenburg who showed her contempt for the language by what seemed like deliberate maltreatment.

"I think the King is looking better," went on Charlotte, gazing anxiously at Schwellenburg, but that lady merely grunted.

The Queen picked up her embroidery. The illness was over, and the King was well again; only it had been distressing while it lasted. It was frightening when people one knew suddenly seemed to lose their personalities, when they gazed at you without recognition. She shivered. For a time she had thought he had lost his reason. Did he think so too? He had wanted the Regency Bill passed through afterwards, so the thought may have come into his mind.

But he is well now, she thought; even though Schwellenburg would not admit it. All was well.

Three boys in the nursery and there would be more children, she was sure. How she I longed for a little girl! Next time, she promised herself; and she forgot the King's illness. Soon it would be time for their governess to bring the two elder boys to their parents. The King would return and they would have a pleasant little family party, with young George surprising and delighting them by his precocious ways and his healthy looks. If she could forget the King's illness and the slyness of the Princess Dowager in trying to keep her in the dark, she could be happy.