Jean Plaidy - Victoria in the Wings

He sighed and took up his pen.

My dear William,

My friend, the Duke of Wellington, as my first minister, has considered it his duty to lay before me the whole of the correspondence which has taken place with you upon the subject relating to yourself and Sir George Cockburn. It is with feelings of the deepest regret that I observe the embarrassing position in which you have placed yourself. You are in error from the beginning to the end. This is not a matter of opinion but of positive fact …

It was true. William must be made to see this. If he were ever King of the Realm he would have to learn how far he could go in his treatment of men in high positions. Yet he could not keep an affectionate note from creeping in. He did not love William any the less because he was a fool.

You must not forget, my dear William, that Sir George Cockburn is the King’s Privy Councillor, and so made by the King to advise the Lord High Admiral …’

He wrote on, trying to explain even more clearly, hoping William would accept the fact that he had erred and make some apology to Sir George Cockburn who was, according to Wellington, exceedingly put out.

Am I to be called upon to dismiss the most useful and perhaps the most important naval officer in my service for conscientiously acting up to the letter and spirit of his oath and duty?

Poor William, he would think he was very harshly treated. He would say: ‘My own brother is against me.’ The King wanted William to understand that he wished to help him, that he would have preferred to be on his side; but William must see reason.

… I love you most truly as you know and no one would do more or go further to protect and meet your feelings; but on the present occasion I have no alternative. You must give way and listen to the affection of your best friend and most attached brother.

G.R.

The King sighed. The little effort of writing had wearied him considerably. And when he thought of all the letters he had written in the past it seemed astonishing that such a short epistle could have this effect on him. Letters! he thought, and remembered those he had written to Perdita Robinson and which had cost a small fortune to retrieve; and all those he had poured out to Maria when he was entreating her to come to him.

And there he was back to Maria. It seemed that everything he did led back to her – even William’s affair with George Cockburn.

When William received his brother’s letter he was truly dismayed.

It was delivered to him when he came to port where Adelaide was waiting for him.

‘Read this,’ he cried. ‘What nonsense! That fool George Cockburn the King’s most useful and important naval officer! How could that be? That conceited jackanapes … “the King’s most” … Upon my word, I never heard such rubbish.’

Adelaide said quietly: ‘William, remember those are the King’s words.’

‘King’s words or not they’re nonsense.’

‘Please, William.’

‘What do they expect me to do, eh?’

‘Couldn’t you make friends with Sir George and then perhaps gradually introduce all the reforms you have in mind?’

He looked at her steadily. She was a clever little woman, his Adelaide. No one would think it. She was so quiet, often one would think she hadn’t a thought that didn’t concern the children. But it wasn’t so. There was a lot of deep thought going on behind that plain little face.

‘That fool Cockburn would be completely outwitted.’

‘I’m sure he would. And you have to consider the King’s letter.’

‘I’m surprised Wellington went to the King. It wasn’t a matter for my brother at all.’

‘But now that he has gone to the King and you have this letter, it will be necessary to carry out your brother’s wishes.’

‘Yes,’ said William reluctantly. ‘I’ll write to Cockburn and tell him that if he retracts I’ll forget all about my orders to dismiss him. He may stay in his post if he’ll retract all he’s said and done so far. That’s all I ask.’

‘But …’ began Adelaide; but William tweaked her ear.

‘Don’t you give it another thought. I shall say to him: “Sir George, we will try to work together. I have plans for the Navy. They are excellent plans. As my late lamented friend Lord Nelson said to me …”’

William was off on one of his long speeches; he stood rocking on his heels and Adelaide was sure he saw a great assembly before him as he talked; he certainly spoke as though he were addressing a large gathering.

But he did not understand.

Adelaide sighed. They were back where they started.

How right she was! Sir George Cockburn’s reply to William’s magnanimous offer was that he could in no circumstances retract. He would stand by all he had said and done and if His Royal Highness acted in any way similar he would continue to raise his voice in protest.

‘There, you see,’ cried William. ‘There is no placating that man.’

But the Duke of Wellington was determined that there should be peace between the two antagonists and arranged a meeting at the Admiralty. There he pointed out how damaging it was to the Navy and the country to continue in such a dispute. So eloquently did he talk that at the close of the interview William, who was always ready to be moved by patriotism, was prepared to shake hands with Sir George and let bygones be bygones.

The Duke trusted that His Royal Highness would in future remember that while it was no doubt an excellent exercise to visit the various ports with his squadron of ships, these exercises must have the approbation of the Admiralty Board – which he was certain that Board, under the most excellent command of Sir George Cockburn, would not withhold.

There must be friendship within the service. War was to be practised among enemies only and amity must prevail.

That, thought Wellington, was an end of the matter; but he deplored Canning’s lack of foresight in bestowing the office of Lord High Admiral on the Duke of Clarence.

William was gleeful. ‘Such a bother,’ he said to Adelaide. ‘All a matter of form, of course. That fellow Cockburn has really been put in his place. He’ll know better than to interfere again.’

Adelaide looked dismayed. ‘But you have agreed to settle your differences.’

‘My dear Adelaide, the heir apparent does not make bargains with naval officers.’

He was growing excitable again. Sometimes she feared where these moods would end. He had always been subject to them but since the death of Frederick they had increased alarmingly. He must calm himself; he must stop talking so freely. Otherwise she could not imagine what would happen.

She could not dissuade him from setting sail once more and on a warm July day he sailed out of Plymouth Hoe on the Royal Sovereign dreaming of Drake going forth to fight the Armada, George Cockburn and the Admiralty Board taking the place of the Spaniards in his mind. It was the same thing, he reasoned. He was defending freedom just as Drake had.

What a sight with Sovereign at the head of the accompanying squadron! The Royal Sovereign! What an apt name for his ship! He would soon be the Royal Sovereign himself.

With him watching the receding land was his eldest son, George. George was a bit of a rebel himself and had applauded his father’s tussle with the Admiralty. George, like the rest of the family, was very much looking forward to the day when his father would be King, for there could be no more indulgent parent in the world.

‘This is the life,’ cried William. ‘The fresh sea breezes in your face and a rolling deck beneath your feet. My only regret is that your stepmother is not with us.’

It was a happy ship – the Royal Sovereign. William was the most thoughtful of commanders; and there was not a man on board who did not know that they were defying the Admiralty and it was exciting to take part in the famous quarrel.

Wellington called a Cabinet meeting. The Lord High Admiral was on the High Seas. For what purpose? Was it some secret mission? Why was Major George FitzClarence present? Who had authorized the mission?

The Prime Minister called on the King, who was suffering from one of his more painful lapses and was unable to leave his bed.

‘In spite of everything he has gone off again?’ cried the King.

‘I fear so, Sir.’

‘He must be recalled at once. It must be made clear to him that if he will not obey the laws of the country he will be dismissed.’

That was what Wellington needed.

‘Leave this to me, Sir.’

The correspondence had started again. William returned like a conqueror in the Royal Sovereign; it had been an exhilarating trip – he and George together and his ship’s company delighting to serve under him; he had forgotten all about exacting people at home. But when he came into port again, there were letters and messages awaiting him.

The most important was from the King himself. He deplored his brother’s conduct. It might well be that he had a very short time to live and William would then be his successor. William must remember that the first duty of a king to his country was to obey the laws laid down by the Parliament. No king – or any other man – could be a law unto himself.

When he read this letter William saw that there was only one thing he could do.

He resigned the office of Lord High Admiral.

THEY WERE AT Bushy again leading a quiet life for a while. It was very necessary for the Affair with the Admiralty had upset William more than Adelaide cared for people to know.

He brooded on it; he went about mumbling to himself; she would go into a room where he was alone and find him talking to an imaginary Sir George Cockburn or Duke of Wellington, or perhaps to his brother the King. He would be somewhat incoherent and there would be a wild look in his eyes.