The Third George

Mr. Pitt falls upstairs

Mr. Pitt lay in his bed, his limbs swathed in bandages, cursing his gout, but for which he would be leading the country now; no man had stopped him doing this; his implacable enemy was this accursed gout.

He longed to be back at the head of affairs but unfortunately it was rarely that he was well enough to go to the House of Commons. He was still a power though; as long as he lived the King and his government would continue to be aware of him. It had always been so; he remembered a long ago occasion when Newcastle had come to see him in this very room; it had been winter and Newcastle who was always worried about his health had found the room too cold for him.

"All very well for you in bed," he had said. "I'll catch my death in the ice house." And he had got fully clad into Hester's bed and pulled the coverlets about his ears and had stayed there while they talked business. But Newcastle was now out and the Marquis of Rockingham's ministry was in.

And I have no faith in it, thought Mr. Pitt.

To be incapacitated, to know that your genius was being thwarted by your wretched body could there be anything more frustrating? Pitt knew himself to be the man who could establish the greatness of England and he was forced to lie in his bed for days at a stretch or to go to Bath to take the waters, to live the life of an invalid when he longed to be a Prime Minister. For nothing short of the head of affairs would be of any use to Pitt.

In his bed he railed against government measures; but what use was that when the pain of his gout was too great to allow him to go to the House of Commons. He wanted to be there arguing against the Stamp Act which George Grenville, his own brother-in-law, had brought in when he was Chancellor of the Exchequer. Pitt was against the Stamp Act which was going to raise difficulties with the American Colonies. He had warned the house of this but he was too sick a man to go in and fight for what he believed. Protests had come thick and fast from America and there was considerable dissatisfaction there with the home country.

Pitt understood this. He wanted to get that Stamp Act repealed. If it were not he could see trouble.

Why should England make laws for America? Why should the Colonists be expected to pay taxes to the English Government? It was an absurd imposition, said Pitt; and one which he would do all in his power to abolish. He had talked to Hester about it. His wife was a brilliant woman who, being devoted to him, made his enthusiasm hers. He was constantly at loggerheads with her brothers now that they had become politicians; but in the early days when he had been a guest at their house they had all been overawed by his grasp of affairs, by his powers of divination which Hester said were supernatural because he could prophesy what would happen if such and such a thing were done. He had laughed at her and told her that it was long-sightedness one of the most desirable gifts in a politician's life. It was in fact a complete concentration on the matter at hand.

He had these gifts; and that was why she thought he was some sort of soothsayer.

To be with Hester, to talk with Hester, that was the greatest pleasure in life ... No, he would be honest. The greatest moments were when he stood up in the House and swayed it the way he wished it to go. But Hester was the balm in his life. She was there not only to dress his painful limbs but to restore his pride and ambition, at moments like this when he believed that he, the greatest politician of his day, was being deprived of his birthright by his enemy, the Gout.

Hester came in to tell him that the Earl of Northington had arrived and was asking if he might see Pitt.

"Northington!" Pitt scrambled up in bed. "He comes from the King.”

"So he tells me.”

"He brings some message … some secret message, doubtless. George is weary of the Rockingham ministry, believe me. Hester, he wants me. He always has wanted me. By God, if he had not been under the influence of that fool Bute ...”

"But Bute need no longer concern you.”

"No, the only thing that really concerns me, Hester, is this accursed gout. You'd better bring Northington up at once.”

"I thought I'd prepare you.”

He nodded. "But until I know what the King wants of me it's hard to be ready with my reply. But bring him in, Hester. Bring him in.”

"You won't commit yourself to anything rash.”

"Rash! What's rash?”

"You know you are unfit just now to go back there. You must rest your feet. You know that.”

"Yes, Hester, I know," he nodded grimly.

"But let's see Northington and hear what it is he has come to say.”

Accompanied by Hester, Robert Henley, first Earl of Northington, came into the bedroom. Of middle height, with florid complexion, he was quite a handsome man, but the signs of hard drinking were apparent. His language was punctuated with blasphemous expressions except when he was in the company of the King who strangely enough had an affection for him, and two years or so before had created him Viscount Henley and Earl of Northington.

Now he looked with sympathy at Pitt and grimaced.

"My God," he said. "I know just how you feel, William. Just looking at you brings back the memory." He looked down at his legs and shook his head at them. "It was the drink in my case they say. Not yours, though, William. Yours was an act of God. But if I'd known that these legs of mine were going to carry a Chancellor I'd have taken better care of them when I was young.”

"Sympathy from a fellow sufferer," murmured Pitt, glancing at the letter which Northington was carrying and which he had not yet handed to him. "Very welcome. But you are not afflicted at the moment.”

"That old devil gout has given me a little respite, William. I hope to God it'll be the same with you. When you read this letter you'll feel better I'll warrant.”

"From ...”

"You've guessed, William. From George himself. He's got no faith in Rockingham's crew and by God, nor have I.”

Pitt held out his hand for the letter.

Richmond, Monday 7 July 1766 Mr. Pitt, Your very dutiful and handsome conduct the last summer makes me desirous of having your thoughts on how an able and dignified ministry may be formed. I desire therefore you will come for this salutary purpose to Town.

I cannot conclude without expressing how entirely my ideas concerning the basis on which a new Administration should be erected, are consonant to the opinion you gave on that subject in Parliament a few days before you set out for Somersetshire.

I am conveying this through the channel of the Earl of Northington as there is no man in my service on whom I so thoroughly rely, and who I know agrees with me so perfectly in the contents of this letter.

George R.

Pitt looked at Northington significantly. Hester, watching, saw the look and knew what it meant.

William looked five years younger; the lines of pain seemed to have been miraculously removed from his face. "You can guess what this means," said William.

Hester cried: "The King is asking you to form a government.”

Her husband handed her the letter. "That's what it means, would you not agree?”

"George knows he can't do without you, William," put in Northington.

"And you know you are not well enough," said Hester.

"My dear, I know only one thing. This is an opportunity I can't resist.”

"But ...”

"Listen. He has come eating out of my hand. A government on my terms. This is what I wanted.

And now George is asking for it.”

"George is growing up" said Northington. But Hester continued to look worried.

"Never fear," said her husband, 'that is the best pick-me-up I could have had.”

"So you will write to the King? said Hester.

"Without delay.”

Pitt was up; hobbling, it was true, but his improvement was miraculous. This was the life. This was what he wanted. Now particularly he explained to Hester. Did she remember how he had given England her Empire? Had he not stopped that ridiculous flittering away of men and money in Europe and turned his attention to the world beyond the seas? Well, now they were idling to lose the American colonies if he were not there to prevent it.

"Your brother's, my dear Hester I regret to say it, but your brother's iniquitous Stamp Duty will be the beginning of it all. I didn't bring America into our Empire to lose it. But we have fools for rulers, Hester, and that's the truth of it.”

He sat down at his desk and wrote to the King; his style was fulsome; at this moment he admired the King.

Sir, Penetrated with the deep sense of Your Majesty's boundless goodness to me, and with a heart overflowing with duty and zeal for the honour and, happiness of the most gracious and benign Sovereign, I shall hasten to London as fast as I possibly can; happy could I change infirmity into the wings of expedition, the sooner to be permitted the high honour to lay at Your Majesty's feet the poor but sincere offering of the small services of Your Majesty's most dutiful subject and most devoted servant.

William Pitt George read William Pitt's letter with great pleasure. Pitt was the greatest politician in the country, but he never forgot the respect due to the King. There were times when George faced a terrible possibility and because of this he wished to form a strong government in case it should be necessary to impose a Regency.

His perusal of state papers, his complete dedication to his role in life, his awareness that he had an ever-increasing knowledge of state affairs and that so many of his ministers had failed the country, gave him an impression that he knew as much as they did, that he was as capable of government. The shyness which had been due to his modesty in his youth disappeared; he had become stubborn and once he had made up his mind to a view he forced himself to believe it and cling to it at all costs. He was certain now that with Mr. Pitt, and Mr. Pitt's chosen henchmen, he and they could govern the country in the best possible manner.

So he was delighted to receive Mr. Pitt's letter. Mr. Pitt would soon be with him and in discussing the new ministry he would forget that vague nagging fear which so far he had been unable to dismiss entirely. It had given him such a sense of insecurity to know that when that illness had beset him he had for some weeks failed to be himself. He could remember little of them but they had existed. He, George the King, had been a poor creature who could not control his own mind.

A terrifying thought. But he had arranged for the Regency and the best way of ensuring that it did not happen again was to prepare in case it did.

Hannah was dead; and he need never think of her again. Charlotte was his wife and she was a good woman. She was expecting another child in September and during her pregnancies she hardly ever thought of anything else but the coming child.

Charlotte was a good wife, all that he wanted in a wife and he had nothing to complain of there.

She accepted the fact that she must live quietly and not meddle.

"I'll not have women meddling," said the King aloud; and then he thought of his mother who had meddled for as long as he could remember.

"It shall stop," said George aloud.

But there was Lord Bute whom he had had to give up for a while but who had crept back after a time; and that was all due to the Princess Dowager whose lover he was. It was, as such relationships go, a respectable liaison; but George would never approve of it. And another thing that rankled was that for so long he had believed it to be a platonic friendship, and everyone had been aware of the true nature of that liaison, except George.

Bute had been kind to him in the past, but for what reason? In the hope of power when George came to the throne. In that moment George made up his mind. He would never take Lord Bute's advice again. George's mouth was set in the familiar stubborn lines when he sat down and wrote to Lord Bute to tell him of his decision.

When he received the King's communication Lord Bute was astonished that George could write to him in such a way. When he thought of all the friendship of the past, the protestations of appreciation, the renewed affirmations that he would never happily ascend the throne unless Bute was beside him, it was unthinkable.

Bute was ambitious, George had written, and he wanted to form a party with himself at the head of it. Moreover his advice in the past had been singularly unsuccessful.

Oh, no. It could not be true! But it was; and when Bute tried to see the King he was told an audience was not at the time possible. George had changed; the amenable eager young boy had disappeared completely; and in his place was a king a simpleton, for he would always be that, but a man who was unaware of his own inadequacies.

I protest [wrote Bute to the King] I could scarcely believe my eyes when I read your letter. It is possible that you cannot see the difference between men setting up to be leaders of a party for seditious or ambitious purposes and me. I shall never be in politics in any way, and I should not ask any man to follow me since I have lost your royal favour. But I must insist that I am everlastingly devoted to Your Majesty. And I end by entreating my dear Prince to forgive me for troubling him with so tedious a letter. But I trust and pray Your Majesty will believe that I am more devoted to you than any man in this country ever was before.

Having sealed the letter and sent a messenger off with it, Lord Bute sat down heavily in his chair and leaned his elbows on his table. His mind went back to days long ago, when that other Prince of Wales, George's father, had been alive, and one rainy day at the races he had been brought into the royal tent to play whist while they waited for the rain to stop. That had been the beginning; then he had been ‘persona grata’ with the family; even the Prince of Wales had been fond of him; and when he had died it was true Bute had seen possibilities of ingratiating himself with the simple young boy who was destined to be king when his ageing grandfather died. Then of course the boy's mother, the Dowager Princess of Wales, had fallen in love with him.

What a happy situation for a Scottish peer, debarred in so many ways from promotion simply because he was Scottish and not English, to find such favour in high places! And it had continued for so many years; there was a cosy domesticity about his relationship with the Princess, who was as devoted perhaps even more so to him as he was to her; and George had treated him as a father.

And now... it had all changed.

He must report at once to the Princess for she might throw some light on the matter. As he rode through the streets he sat well back in his carriage. The people were slightly less hostile now, but they still talked of the jackboot and petticoat and could become offensive. If they made a riot, as they were constantly threatening to do, and it reached the King's ears, he would be more against him than ever. He might even forbid him to see the Princess Dowager. Oh, no, she would never allow that; and she still had some influence with the King. The Princess received him as warmly as ever.

"Why are you disturbed?" she said. "Please tell me what is wrong. Come and sit here, beside me, my dear. I do not like to see you look so worried.”

The Princess's servants had all discreetly disappeared as they had been doing for years on the arrival of her lover; and they could be sure of privacy.

"A most disturbing letter from the King. He does not wish to see me any more.”

"Oh, no.”

"It is true. Here it is.”

The Princess read it and made clucking noises. "George is a fool!" she said "He was always and always will be. He has no idea how to be a King.”

"He is developing those ideas," retorted Bute.

"He now believes he knows how to be a certain kind of king and, by God, he is going to be that kind of king. He has grown very stubborn. He makes up his mind and once it has been made up nothing on earth will shift him. And ... he has turned against me.”

"Something happened to George during that illness of his," mused the Princess.

"He has grown very odd. That abrupt way of speaking ... It's almost irascible. He was never like that before. He was rather slow and even stuttered now and then. The illness has changed his personality, I fear. But perhaps he will change again and become more like his old self.”

Bute shook his head. "I do not think he will. He seems to have taken a great dislike to me and when I think of the affection he once had for me ...”

"My dear, he is ungrateful; but we have each other.”

"I was afraid that he might attempt to stop my visiting you.”

"That is something I would never allow.”

Bute smiled and turning to her embraced her warmly. But he was thinking, a great deal of the excitement had gone out of the relationship. Now they were almost like a staid old married couple.

When he left the Princess Dowager, Lord Bute called on Miss Vansittart, a young lady of good family who had been extremely pretty and still was, although she was no longer young. But she was still much younger than Lord Bute, who was over fifty.

She received him with pleasure and without surprise for in fact he had been calling on her for some time, finding her company a change after that of the Princess Dowager. Miss Vansittart was humble and admired him whole-heartedly. She made no demands and that was very pleasant. First they had talked and then it seemed so natural that they should become lovers in a quiet rather desultory way, which suited her nature and Lord Bute's declining years.

He told her that the King had turned against him and she was incredulous that the King could be so lacking in gratitude. She soothed him and he told her that the Princess Dowager was as devoted to him as ever and that theirs was too strong a relationship for the King to stop it, although he might try. Who but I trust the Princess. She would never wish to part from me.

Miss Vansittart plainly adored him and he told her that he would speak to the Princess, and when there was a vacancy in her household it should go to Miss Vansittart.

Miss Vansittart shivered with delight at the prospect of serving the woman who for so many years had been a wife in all but name, to the wonderful Lord Bute; and he soothed the hurt the King had done him by basking in her admiration and explaining to her all the perquisites which fell into the laps of those who served in royal households. She would learn, for he would teach her, how to come by these rewards. When he left her he felt better, but when he returned to his house his wife, that most accommodating of women, demanded to know if he had been visiting Miss Vansittart.

He admitted this was so, for since she had never complained of his relationship with the Princess Dowager why should she with Miss Vansittart? But it seemed this was different.

"This will have to stop," she told him. "This woman is no Princess Dowager. This is quite a different matter.”

"I believe you are jealous," replied his lordship.

"Of course I'm jealous.”

"Of this poor young woman?”

"Exactly. What has this poor young woman to offer but herself? With the Princess Dowager it was different.”

"What a sordid view," he commented with distaste. But his wife laughed at him and said that she was not prepared to have to listen to gossip about her husband and Miss Vansittart.

Lord Bute felt melancholy. Life had ceased to smile on him.

Four days after William Pitt had received the King's letter he was asking for an audience with His Majesty.

"Bring him in, bring him in," cried George. "Don't you know I wouldn't wish Mr. Pitt to be kept waiting, eh, eh?”

So Mr. Pitt came hobbling in and the King looked at him with emotion. The greatest mistake he had ever made, thought George, was to allow Bute to persuade him to banish Mr. Pitt. But Mr.

Pitt bore no grudges. The King asked after his family and gave news of his own.

"Young George is growing more bumptious every day. Frederick is imitating his brother; and I doubt not young William will be the same. As you know, the Queen is expecting another in September, ha! Well, well, we shall soon have a quiverful, eh? What?”

Mr. Pitt, elegant in spite of his afflictions, gracious and ceremonious, made a little speech about the blessings of family life and added that the royal family set an example to all the families in the land.

This pleased George whose eyes filled with tears at the thought of his and his wife's virtues and how well they filled their roles to the glory of England. Then the conversation turned on the reason for Mr. Pitt's being in London and the King made it very clear that he placed himself in Mr. Pitt's hands. He was disappointed in the Rockingham ministry; in fact ever since Mr. Pitt had ceased to lead the Government he had been disappointed.

Pitt's eyes gleamed with triumph when he heard this. He had come prepared to compromise; now he saw that there would be no need. It would be as he, Pitt, wished it to be. He told the King that he would have great pleasure in forming a government which he would submit to His Majesty for his approval.

George warmly shook his hand and said: "It is a great relief. You understand, eh? A great relief.”

"I do understand, Sir. I trust Your Majesty will have no reason to regret your decision. Your Majesty knows full well that I shall use all my powers to make this ministry a success.”

The King said: "Yes, yes, yes. I have never doubted that, eh? What? What?”

Mr. Pitt bowed himself from the presence. The King had changed and he could not help feeling a little uneasy. The quick way of talking with the inevitable "What? What?" was already being noticed. And the change had come with his recent indisposition ... that mysterious illness which no one quite understood, and about which there were so many rumours. A Regency? thought Pitt.

He grimaced inwardly. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. He would deal with such a contingency when and if it arose. In the meantime he had carte blanche to form a ministry.

Pitt presented his choice of a ministry to the King and it was accepted. The First Lord of the Treasury was the Duke of Grafton a rather reckless choice perhaps, not because the Duke lacked ability and could not be trusted to support him, but because of the life he led. Descended from Charles II, Grafton had inherited many of that king's characteristics, chief of which was his love of women. His existing liaison was one of the scandals of the Court. This was with Nancy Parsons, a notorious courtesan, the daughter of a Bond Street tailor who had first lived with a West Indian merchant named Horton with whom she had gone to Jamaica; Jamaica did not suit her however and she soon returned to London where she took many lovers; chief of whom was the Duke of Grafton. The Duke's open dalliance with her he was constantly seen with her at the races and in public places his devotion to horse racing, his neglect of his wife, the mother of his three children, meant that his affairs were widely known and discussed. It was said by Horace Walpole, the wit and raconteur, that Grafton 'postponed the world for a whore and a horse race' and he went on to voice some pointed criticism against "The Duke of Grafton's Mrs. Horton, the Duke of Dorset's Mrs. Horton, everybody's Mrs. Horton." And such was the man whom Pitt had chosen to be First Lord of the Treasury.

The Lord President was the Earl of Northington; the Chancellor of the Exchequer Mr. Charles Townsend; and the position of Lord Privy Seal, Pitt reserved for himself.

When the news was out there was rejoicing through the City. Bonfires were lit in the streets. The Mayor decided that a banquet in honour of Mr. Pitt, the Great Commoner, be held at the Guildhall. There was a great deal of talk about the prosperity which Mr. Pitt had brought to the City when he had first become Prime Minister. Mr. Pitt had brought an Empire to England and the City knew that Empires meant trade and prosperity. In the streets they shouted for Mr. Pitt. They waited for his carriage; if they saw it they gathered round it, cheering. A great wave of optimism swept through London.

"Everything will be all right now," it was said. "Mr. Pitt is back.”

Sewing, reading, walking a little in her apartments at Kew, going to see the children in their nursery, receiving visits from them, the trying months of pregnancy were passing slowly for Charlotte. Though, she thought, I should be used to it by now. And there was one blessing: the more children she had the easier it became to give birth to them.

She saw little of her husband. He was occupied with the new Ministry and Mr. Pitt. When he did come to see her she asked him questions, for there was so much excitement about that matter that the news had come to Kew. She wanted to know what had brought Mr. Pitt back and what his terms had been, because she knew that he had retired from the front bench because of some disagreement with the King and the majority of his ministers.

When George came to see her they walked together in the gardens. He wanted to know the minutest details. He always did. Why had roses been planted there? He would send for the gardeners and ask. They always had their answers ready and were prepared for him. But when she asked him about government affairs he grew pink and he said: "Oh, state affairs ... state affairs.”

"Everyone seems so excited about this new turn.”

"Shouldn't talk so much. Wait and see, eh?”

"Mr. Pitt must have many new plans.”

"Don't doubt it, don't doubt it. Now are you taking regular exercise? Necessary. Very necessary, eh? Feeling well are you? Feel the heat, eh? What? Usual in the circumstances, eh?”

"I'm as well as I always am at these times, but I should like to know...”

"Take care. Don't worry your head about matters outside your knowledge. Not good for the child.

Not good for you, eh? I think a path would be good here. What do you think, eh?”

And so it went on. At times Charlotte felt like a prisoner a pampered prisoner who was to have all her comforts, most material things that she asked for, but never her freedom. I am like a queen bee in a hive. I am looked after that I may go on bearing my young.

A few days after he had formed his ministry William Pitt made one of the greatest mistakes of his career. He accepted a peerage and became Viscount Pitt of Burton-Pynsent in the County of Somersetshire and Earl of Chatham in the County of Kent.

What possessed him to take such a step his friends could not be sure. He was suffering acutely from the gout; the first excitement of being in harness again was wearing off; he knew that the old enemy Gout was not going to allow him to carry out his plans; he felt old and tired; and as most of his colleagues possessed high-sounding titles, it seemed only right and proper that he, who had done so much more in the service of his country, should have one too. In any case he accepted the titles and by doing so lost the one which had counted for so much in the eyes of the people. He might now be the Earl of Chatham but he was no longer the Great Commoner.

"Illuminations for my Lord Chatham!" cried the people of London. "A banquet at the Guildhall!

Not likely. They were to honour Mr. Pitt, not Chatham. He's as self-seeking as the rest. He's not there to serve the country and us. He's there to get a fine handle to his name and what goes with it.”

There was no enthusiasm now in the streets. No one called Hurrah for Pitt. The people were sullenly silent. Everyone was commenting on the change. Lord Chesterfield wrote to his son: "He has had a fall upstairs and has done himself so much hurt that he will never be able to stand on his legs again.”

But it was the shrewd Horace Walpole who summed up the position and pointed out that in accepting the title the new Earl had done more harm to the country than to himself.

"While he held the love of the people," said Horace, 'nothing was so formidable in Europe as his name. The talons of the lion were drawn when he was no longer awful in his own forest.”

A sick man, driven almost to distraction by the pain of his gout, Pitt sought to defy public opinion which had previously wholeheartedly supported him and tried to govern with his ministry which had been made up from both parties; but because he had set Whigs and Tories, friends and enemies to work together and because he himself had ruined his own public image by his title, and chiefly because he was an extremely sick man, he was doomed to failure.

Edmund Burke was later to describe the Ministry as 'a tessellated pavement without cement; here a bit of black stone and there a bit of white; patriots and courtiers, kind friends and republicans; Whigs and Tories; treacherous friends and open enemies ... a very curious show, but utterly unsafe to touch and unsure to stand on.”

That year there was a bad harvest and Chatham was obliged to lay an embargo on the importation of corn. It was a very uneasy session and as the summer passed into autumn, the gout began to plague him more than ever.

In September Charlotte moved to Buckingham House to prepare for her confinement. It was necessary for the royal child to be born in London, but now that Buckingham House had become such a popular royal residence, Charlotte need not go to that grim old palace of St. James's.

Although she was not allowed to meddle, of course, she knew what was happening. She had heard that Mr. Pitt had become Lord Chatham and that the people were not very pleased with him because of this. How she wished George would consult her. What a pleasure it would be if they could talk politics together. After all she was not exactly stupid. She was only ignorant because she was not allowed to learn.

She believed that the Princess Dowager was at the bottom of the plot to keep her away from affairs. That woman was downright jealous; and she was pleased to hear that her lover Lord Bute was out of favour with the King, and that George seemed at last to have escaped from his mother's apron strings.

What a blessing it was to be able to understand English. Now she could glean all sorts of interesting conversation from her women. Miss Chudleigh was really a most indiscreet woman.

So much the better, thought Charlotte. But on reflection she agreed that life in England was very different from what she had imagined. She had thought she was coming to England to rule with her husband; and here she was doing scarcely anything but being pregnant and bearing children.

Well, she had her three boys, and when she thought of them she could not help being delighted with them. It was after all so much more gratifying to be a mother than a great politician, though some women had managed to be both.

The leaves on the trees were beginning to turn russet. She could not be bothered to ask what all the shouting in the streets was about. The shortage of corn? The defection of Lord Chatham? It all seemed rather unimportant when a new life was about to begin. I want a girl this time, she told Miss Chudleigh, and Miss Chudleigh replied that she was sure it would be a girl. It was the way Her Majesty was carrying and after three boys a girl often followed.

And on 26 September Charlotte's child was born. A little girl. So she had her wish. She was called Charlotte Augusta Matilda; and the Queen, delighted, happy now to be nothing but a mother, said that the child was her little Michaelmas Goose.