The Captive of Kensington Palace (13 page)

Späth’s colour deepened. ‘I am
not
,’ she said recklessly. ‘And there is something I have to say to Your Grace about … about yourself and Sir John Conroy.’

Späth was too excited to notice the expression on the Duchess’s face and to be aware of the ominous silence.

‘I do not forget my place …’ began Späth.

‘Do you not?’ said the Duchess sarcastically. ‘You surprise me.’

‘No, I do not forget it and I speak only out of love for Your Grace and our dear Princess.’

‘Pray continue.’

‘The Princess has noticed the … er … friendship between Your Grace and … this man.’

‘The Princess has long been aware of the friendship between myself and Sir John. Indeed, I hope she feels similarly towards one who has been such a good friend to her and the entire household.’

‘God forbid!’ cried the Baroness.

‘My dear Späth,’ said the Duchess, and her voice showed clearly that the Baroness was far from being dear to her, ‘are you mad?’

‘I am very anxious,’ went on the Baroness, ‘because the Princess has noticed that Sir John Conroy is on very familiar terms with Your Grace.’

‘How … dare you!’ cried the Duchess. ‘Pray go at once to your room. I will deal with your … impertinence later.’

The trembling Baroness left her. At least, she assured herself, I told her the truth.

The Duchess went at once to Sir John.

‘My dearest lady, what has happened?’ he asked looking up from the papers on his table.

‘That … impertinent old woman … That Baroness Späth. Oh dear, and I placed
such
confidence in her. She was a good nurse to Feodora and afterwards to Victoria and now … now … I will not allow her to remain here. She must go.’

Sir John smiled. He would like to be rid of the two old ladies. Lehzen more than Späth, for Späth was an old fool compared with Lehzen.

He rose and taking the Duchess’s hands kissed them. ‘Pray be seated and tell me exactly what happened.’

‘She was … insolent. She said that
Victoria
had noticed that you and I …’

‘What is this?’

‘That Victoria had noticed that you and I were … friends.’

‘This is … monstrous.’

‘I think so too.’

‘There is only one thing to be done.’

Sir John nodded sagely. The old fool had played right into his hands.

  Chapter VI  

THE BATTLE FOR LEHZEN

A
delaide was watching the King carefully; she was terrified that his exuberance would overflow and he would do something which would be considered mad. At the moment the people were lenient; he had won their approval by lacking the dignity of George IV – not that he had to cast aside what he had never had – but that royal dignity was indeed lacking and for the moment, the people liked their King. He was an old man with a red weatherbeaten face; and no one could be more homely than the Queen; but somehow they managed to convey that they wished to do their duty.

There was no doubt that William was enjoying his position. He went about among the ordinary people, shaking hands with them and patting children on the head.

When the crowds gathered round him and Adelaide feared for his safety he would cry: ‘Now, my good people, let me through, let me through. You want to see me and I want to see you. So stand back a bit and give me air.’

A very unroyal King! decided the people; but a good and kindly man eager to serve his country.

Adelaide had believed that the stay at the Pavilion would be a rest after all the ceremonies it had been necessary to attend but she was realising that little respite was to be allowed the King and Queen. It was all very well for George IV to shut himself away from his people; William IV was not going to be allowed to do this. Nor did he wish to. He was still delighted by his office and determined to enjoy it. He was homely; he was bluff; he was the sailor King. He was constantly waving ceremony aside.

‘The Queen and I are very quiet people,’ he would say. ‘She sits over her embroidery after dinner and I’ll doze and nod a bit.’

He had a talent for making the kind of remarks which could be seized on by the press and those who liked to report the eccentricities of the King. For instance when he had asked a guest to attend a ceremony the man replied that he could not do so as he did not possess the required kind of breeches. ‘Nonsense … ceremony … stuff!’ cried the King. ‘Let him come without.’ ‘Stuff’ was one of his favourite words for that etiquette which he wished to sweep away and he applied it to anything of which he did not approve.

Not only was he completely lacking in royal dignity, he was tactless in the extreme. He was constantly telling Adelaide that he did not know what he would do without her and that she was more to him than any beautiful and attractive woman could ever have been. He gave people lifts in his carriage. He shook hands affably like any visiting squire; he told the Freemasons whom he was addressing on one occasion: ‘Gentlemen, if my love for you equalled my ignorance of everything concerning you, it would indeed be unbounded.’ He behaved in every way that was unkingly; but all knew that he meant to be kind.

He had made it clear that he would not allow his brother Cumberland to dominate him as he had dominated the late King. Cumberland was deprived of his Gold Stick, told to remove his horses from the Windsor stables because the Queen needed them for her carriage, and at a dinner the King had toasted the country and glaring at his brother had added: ‘And let those who don’t like it leave it.’

As Cumberland was at the height of his unpopularity this further endeared William to his people.

He was a blundering old man, but as long as he kept his sanity, the people were pleased with him.

Adelaide, who had become very fond of him since her marriage and suffered from a terrible sense of failure because she had failed to give him an heir, grew more and more nervous. When the people became over-excited she was afraid there would be riots. She had never understood the exuberance of the English; and she was well aware that there was terrible unrest throughout the country. The affairs of France were once more in chaos; what happened in that country could happen in England, so Adelaide believed. There was one word which was constantly being used in all circles: Reform.

The people throughout the country were dissatisfied with their lot. The differences between the rich and the poor were too great. The harvest had been bad; food was dear and there was no money to buy bread. The silk weavers of Spitalfields were in revolt; the farm labourers of Kent were demanding more money; and the mill hands farther north were restive. Hay-ricks were burned down in the night; barns set on fire. Through the country men were threatening dire consequences if there were not Reform.

All this worried Adelaide.

‘Trouble?’ said William. ‘There’s always been trouble. My father was nearly assassinated several times.’

‘But you must take great care.’

Dear Adelaide! He wouldn’t have changed her for any one of his brother’s beauties in their prime.

There was a change of attitude in the FitzClarence children which Adelaide was quick to detect. Now that their father was King they believed all sorts of honours should come their way. They didn’t see why they should be left out simply because their father hadn’t married their mother and she was an actress. They were the acknowledged sons and daughters of the King.

William had done so much for them and he loved them all dearly, and Adelaide thought them ungrateful. She was glad – and so was William – that the dear little grandchildren were too young to understand the greatness which had descended on their grandpapa.

So at Brighton she had hoped for a little respite from the glare of publicity. As if this could be found at that most glittering of towns! Brighton welcomed its new sovereign as it had always welcomed the late one, to whom it must for ever be grateful for making it what it was – rich, fashionable, elegant Brighton in place of Little Brighthelmstone which had nothing to recommend it but a little fishing.

The Pavilion – home of the late King’s most brilliant entertainments – was scarcely the place in which to relax. But they would rest here, said William. They would have no reclining on sofas to listen to music like so many Eastern worthies. There would be no brilliant banquets with people vying with each other to show off their silks and satins and brocades. A homely atmosphere should be brought into the Pavilion.

So the King chatted freely with his guests; and he breakfasted with his wife precisely every morning at nine – no lying abed all through the day as his brother had done – and Adelaide herself made the tea at one end of the table while one of her maids of honour made coffee at the other end.

Then they chatted for a while and the King went off to receive some of his ministers who had come to see him, or he would take a drive with the Queen. In the afternoons he sometimes walked out alone. He liked to do this without attendants, and the children of the town, recognising him, would run up and call: ‘Hello, King!’ which amused him; and he would very often take them into one of the shops and buy sweets for them.

He was a most unusual monarch, but a source of amusement to the people; and there was nothing they liked better than to be amused.

As for the ceremonies and elegance of the last reign – ‘Stuff!’ said the King.

But in spite of his popularity those uneasy murmurs were rumbling through the country. There would have to be Reform.

When the royal pair could stay no longer in Brighton they returned to St James’s, and Adelaide pointed out to the King that it would be necessary for him to see more of Victoria now. They must not forget that she was heiress to the throne.

‘We might supplant her even yet, eh?’

‘Ah, if that were possible! But I greatly fear we shall never have a child. It is some fault in me.’

‘Now, now, you don’t want to fret yourself. There’s this little girl at Kensington. Nice little creature. Don’t like her mother, though. My God, what a handful of a woman. And to think I might have had her! They gave her to Edward because she had to be wooed and they thought I’d make a mess of the wooing. So they gave me you, Adelaide … who had no choice. So you see we had no choice, either of us.’

‘So we should be grateful that we were not displeased.’

‘So you weren’t displeased, eh?’

‘I thank God every night for my good husband.’

His eyes filled with tears. ‘And I for my good wife. Couldn’t have a better. You could give me all the beauties in the land …’

That reminded him of those days when having deserted Dorothy Jordan he had sought to marry and been flouted by the heiresses he had chosen except Miss Wykeham, who had accepted him only to learn that her hopes of becoming Duchess of Clarence were dashed as his family rejected her. He smiled. What a scene there had been at the time with George – the Regent then – and his mother, Queen Charlotte, explaining why he couldn’t have Miss Wykeham for all her money and must take the German Princess Adelaide instead.

He went on thinking aloud – a habit to which Adelaide had become accustomed. ‘Should do something for Miss Wykeham. She hoped to marry me. But they wouldn’t have it. She was the only one who agreed to marry me. Yes, should do something for her. Give her a peerage, eh?’

‘Yes,’ said Adelaide, ‘give her a peerage, but we must see something of Victoria now. She ought to appear at Court.’

‘Could have seen more of her years ago but for that stuck-up mother of hers. She won’t let Victoria mix with my children! By God, does she realise that my children are the children of the King!’

‘She will now,’ said Adelaide soothingly. ‘But I think I shall take the first opportunity of calling at Kensington Palace. I’ll go and see Sophia first. She will know what is happening in the Kent apartments. But Victoria must be present at the next Drawing-Room.’

‘You go, my dear. And tell that woman that her daughter will be
commanded
to come to Court no matter who is there. It’s for the King to decide who shall or who shall not come to his Court.’

‘Yes,’ said Adelaide, ‘I will go to Kensington.’

The Princess Sophia laid aside her netting to embrace Adelaide.

‘It is so good of you to come, my dear. There must be so much to do. How is the King?’

‘He is very well, thank you.’

‘I’m glad, I’m glad. William was always a little excitable.’

Sophia was looking sideways at her sister-in-law. Oh dear, thought Adelaide, people who lived lonely uneventful lives were avid for every bit of gossip; and if it were not good news they seemed to enjoy it the more.

What had Sophia heard about William’s unbalanced state?

‘Oh, he is becoming accustomed to being the King now,’ said Adelaide. ‘At first it is a little bewildering.’

‘And he has the Duke to help him.’

‘Oh yes, the King relies on Wellington.’

‘You have heard the news from there.’ Sophia nodded towards the wall in the direction of the Kent apartments.

‘News?’

‘Späth is going.’

‘The Baroness Späth … to leave!’

‘Oh yes, she is being sent to Feodora. She will be
so
useful in the nursery there, so says the Duchess.’

‘But surely she is needed here.’

Princess Sophia lifted her shoulders. She was not going to mention the real reason for the dismissal of Späth. She felt it was in some way disloyal to Sir John; and in any case she did not like to think of his being on familiar terms with the Duchess.

‘They say Lehzen will be going next.’