The Widow of Windsor

Chapter XXI THE JERSEY LILY

Prince Leopold was in love. He had met the most enchanting creature. He had never seen anyone quite so beautiful and a number of other people agreed with him; in fact he was only one of her admirers. She was the daughter of the Dean of Jersey and in her teens she had fascinated a widower, Mr Langtry, who came to the island in his yacht. He had urged her to marry him which she did and thus she came to London.

Mr Langtry was comfortably situated but not rich and when he brought his bride to London they lived quietly and did not move into society until one day at a museum they encountered a nobleman whom they had met when he had been in Jersey. He was so struck by the girl’s beauty that he asked her to a party at his London house. That was all that was needed.

Lillie Langtry’s beauty was so outstanding that no one could fail to notice her. People were soon talking of her, inviting her to their houses, calling her the Jersey Lily; she was photographed everywhere; artists sketched her; when she walked in the park she was recognised; everyone seemed to be talking about Lillie Langtry.

She had hosts of admirers, among them Prince Leopold. Leopold was different from his brothers. In the first place he was a victim of that dreaded disease which dogged certain male members of the royal family. All his life Leopold had been watched carefully; he must never be allowed to fall or cut himself lest he should begin to bleed. This could be fatal or at best mean a serious illness with a spell in bed and the doctors in attendance. Unable to play games, Leopold was more intellectually inclined than his brothers. He was a great reader, well acquainted with the works of Shakespeare and Sir Walter Scott. At Oxford he had attended lectures on history, poetry and music; he had also studied modern languages.

He was inclined to be more rebellious and less afraid of the Queen than his brothers for as the invalid of the family he had been treated more gently. The Queen always questioned him in detail as to his health and did not like him to over-exert himself. It had been a very anxious time when he had almost died of the typhoid fever which had been responsible for his father’s death. He was a very good speaker; took an interest in social matters and had been elected President of the Royal Society of Arts.

‘Leopold,’ the Queen was fond of saying, ‘has inherited his father’s brains.’ But ever present in her mind was the memory of the time when he had one haemorrhage after another and they had all thought he would die. Ever since, the Queen had wanted him sheltered; she would have preferred to keep him near her. Bertie, however, said that it wasn’t good for him to be over-protected and Leopold agreed with Bertie. He wanted to live even if it meant doing so for a shorter period than he could expect shut up like a prize orchid in a hothouse.

So the Queen had given way; in fact Leopold was not one to have it otherwise; he had always been wilful; and one did not wish to upset him for if he grew over-excited he could bring on one of those dreaded haemorrhages.

So Leopold led a normal life and so it was that he met Lillie Langtry.

‘What a fantastic creature!’ he cried. He was sure he had never seen any beauty to compare with hers. Her figure was perfect; her bone structure was divine; her golden hair was abundant and curled delightfully about her enchanting Grecian-type face.

Leopold joined her suitors. Mr Langtry, a somewhat ineffective man whose great interest was sailing, suddenly realised what a treasure he had married and was naturally a little bewildered by all the fuss which was made of his wife. As for Lillie, accustomed to the quiet island life, she was dazzled by the invitations and offers which poured in. Every day she was at some social function. If she had not the adequate clothes what did it matter? She could attend as someone poetically put it, clothed in her beauty with which no court dressmaker could hope to compete. In a simple black dress she was overwhelmingly lovely; her golden hair and sparkling eyes outdid all the diamonds and emeralds and rubies.

Leopold acquired a sketch of her and hung it over his bed and the Prince of Wales returning from Sandringham, called on his brother, saw the picture, and wanted to know who the beauty was.

‘Lillie Langtry,’ said Leopold. ‘The most beautiful woman in London … I’d venture to say in the world.’

Bertie’s practised eye regarded the sketch. ‘The sketch makes her charming.’

‘A poor reflection on the reality,’ said Leopold.

‘I must meet your paragon.’

Leopold groaned. ‘That’s the end of my hopes,’ he said.

The Queen visiting Leopold saw the picture of Lillie over his bed.

‘And whom does that represent?’ she wanted to know.

‘That’s the famous Jersey Lily, Mama.’

‘And why have you hung it over your bed?’

‘Well, it is rather charming, don’t you think?’

‘Leopold, you know how anxious I get about you. I think it would be most dangerous for you to be … er … become friendly with women.’

‘Well, Mama, I do have a certain number of female friends.’

The Queen frowned. ‘You have to consider your health, Leopold. It was always a great anxiety to me and to your dearest papa. I should not like you to hazard it in any way.’

With that she drew up a chair, stood on it and removed the picture. Leopold watched her with a smile. It was too charming a face depicted there for the Queen to destroy. She was always so susceptible to beauty.

She rose, taking the sketch with her. ‘You must take care of your health, Leopold, and you will not do so if you squander it dallying with women.’

Leopold tried to hide his smile. Really, Mama was a little old-fashioned and life with sainted Papa had made her very prim.

She need not have worried about him and Lillie. Bertie had come into the field and no one could really succeed when Bertie was there.

Now Lillie’s name was being universally coupled with that of the Prince of Wales. Bertie was enchanted by the delightful creature and people who wished to please the Prince must invite Lillie to their houses.

Alix was hurt but as usual hid her feelings; she appeared in public with Bertie, smiling and gracious, and he, as ever, made sure that she was accorded due homage. In Alix’s presence Bertie always made sure that he behaved as a faithful husband; if the lady he was pursuing were present at such times she would be ignored.

At least, thought Alix, I can be grateful for that. There was one rule from which Bertie was never diverted, however infatuated he might be. This was the almost divine right of royalty. He liked to be on familiar terms with his chosen companions and to play practical jokes on them. When they were told the soup was cold and took a mouthful of almost boiling liquid and burned their mouths, he thought that great fun; when soap was mixed with cheese and someone ate it, that was very amusing. What was not fun was when the Prince of Wales was expected to be the victim of the kind of so-called jokes he liked to see worked out on others. He never forgot his royal dignity – nor that of any member of his family.

Dignity must be preserved at all times. Now that he was putting on weight – and this was to be deplored because he was not tall and the effect was to give him a square look – some of his friends referred to him as ‘Tum Tum’ – but never to his face except on one occasion. Late one night his great crony, Sir Frederick Johnstone, who had been cited as co-respondent in the Mordaunt case, was playing billiards with the Prince at Sandringham. As Johnstone was drunk and over-hilarious, Bertie said to him kindly: ‘Freddy, you are very drunk.’ Johnstone, too intoxicated for tact, pointed to Bertie’s paunch and retorted: ‘Tum Tum, you’re very fat.’

Bertie’s notorious temper flared up. It was exactly like the Queen’s; fortunately it burnt itself out very quickly but before it did he told one of his attendants to see that Sir Frederick left Sandringham early next morning.

On another occasion, in the excitement of a game of billiards when he had made a bad shot, one of his friends cried out: ‘Pull yourself together, Wales.’ Bertie had stared at the speaker and the gleam in his blue eyes was icy.

‘Your carriage is at the door,’ he said; and turned his back.

So wise people quickly learned that, while they must amuse the Prince and be on friendly terms with him, it was for him to set the pace. They must never forget that he was royal, and Alix as his wife was also royal. Royalty must never be slighted even by the most favoured mistress.

Bertie’s temper was to be feared, but he was not often vindictive and forgave easily. The longest time he had kept up a grudge was in the case of Lord Randolph over the Aylesford affair; and it was agreed that Lord Randolph had acted in an amazingly impulsive manner then.

Once a waiter serving spinach splashed a little on Bertie’s shirt front. Bertie looked down at the mark and the rage in his face was terrible; the waiter trembled while Bertie plunged his hands into the dish saying: ‘Now I shall ruin it completely!’ and rubbed the spinach all over his shirt front. He stamped away to change; but when he came back his good temper was restored and he even had a smile for the waiter. That incident was often repeated; it was so typical of Bertie.

Now he had one object in mind – the pursuit of Lillie Langtry. The fact that he had entered the field meant that all Lillie’s other admirers must leave the way clear for him. The Prince of Wales and Lillie were seen riding together in the Row; hostesses sat them side by side at dinner parties; if they wanted the Prince to honour them with his presence, they must invite Lillie too; it was necessary to do homage to Lillie to win the Prince’s favour; so they did.

There were photographs of Lillie everywhere; they were sold in the shops and a new set was created which became known as The Professional Beauties. Everything that Lillie wore was copied. If she wore a certain type of hat it became known as the Langtry Hat; the manner in which she did her hair was the Langtry style; the most talked-of person in London was Lillie Langtry.

The Queen, who thought it very unbecoming for women to allow themselves to be photographed and known as Professional Beauties, was nevertheless eager to see this woman who captivated society. That she had won Bertie’s admiration was nothing – many had done that – but she had never before known such talk as there was about Mrs Langtry.

She invited her to one of her Drawing Rooms; and when the moment came for Lillie to be presented to her, the Queen held out her hand and appeared not to look at her, but that was a gift of hers; she had seen what she wanted to see. There was an undeniable charm about the woman and one had to admit that she was exceedingly beautiful.

A pity, thought the Queen, that she did not remain faithful to her husband. Mr Langtry thought the same; he remonstrated with his wife; she must give up this social life in London and go with him to Ireland; or they might sail on his yacht back to Jersey. Her extravagance was ruining him and the scandal she created must surely be ruining her.

At this the Jersey Lily wept and stormed. She had no intention of going back. For one thing the Prince of Wales would never allow it.

Mr Langtry did point out that as he was her husband he thought he might have more say in the matter than the Prince of Wales. It was the beginning of the end of the marriage, but Lillie continued to dazzle the Prince.

Unencumbered by a husband whom she ignored more than ever, she found life very agreeable. As for Bertie he was deeply enamoured – far more so than he had been over any of his previous conquests.

Alix suffered in silence while the Jersey Lily flourished, and everywhere Bertie was, she was sure to be.

Leopold, shrugging aside his loss of Lillie to his brother, decided to travel on the Continent for a while. In Frankfurt he met Princess Helen Frederica Augusta, daughter of the Prince of Waldeck-Pyrmont. She had a strong and interesting personality and Leopold had wanted to marry for a long time, if only to show that he was well enough to indulge in normal activities.

‘Leopold marry!’ said the Queen when she heard. ‘But he is not strong enough.’

Bertie thought he should be allowed to see if he were strong enough and Leopold was determined not to be wrapped in cotton wool.

‘If he could lead an ordinary married life so much the better,’ said the Queen.

‘Give him a chance to try,’ retorted Bertie.

Leopold was created Duke of Albany and betrothed.

Lillie was for a time like a moth dancing madly about a candle, but when she became pregnant it was necessary to retire from society for a while. Whose was the child? Perhaps the Prince of Wales was the father? Who could be sure?

Everything went wrong at once. Mr Langtry became bankrupt and left Lillie who had ruined him, he declared; there was a rumour that Lillie was to be cited in a divorce case; many hostesses who had eagerly welcomed her to their houses no longer did so; and when she walked in the Park they looked the other way.

The Prince of Wales was not in London; and everyone was sure that when he did return Lillie Langtry would have become a distant memory to him – that was if he ever thought of her at all.

Lillie took a small room and stared disaster in the face. Many would say it was the just reward of sin. She had danced in the sun for a while; and now the sun had disappeared, and she was left to face the consequences.

She still had her astounding beauty and if it was impaired, for she was heavily pregnant, once the child was born she would regain it. She would start again. She had always wanted to act; and she was sure that if she could make a name for herself on the stage she would win back all the adulation she had had before, even if in not such high places.

She wept a little for Teddy, as she had called him, who had been such a kind and chivalrous lover. It was not only the dignity of his title that appealed; Teddy was a very charming man; she would never have another such lover.

She must live through the next months; she must have her child and then when she was completely recovered see what could be done. She had enough money to carry her through until then.

Her landlady was knocking at the door. There was a visitor to see her. A gentleman.

Lillie stood up hastily and looked at her reflection in the glass.

‘You look lovely, my dear,’ said the landlady; and in fact it was difficult for Lillie in any circumstances to appear otherwise.

‘What is his name?’

‘He wouldn’t give it. He said a friend of yours.’

‘All right,’ said Lillie. ‘Bring him up.’

She could scarcely believe it. He stood in the doorway – square, a little squat, the beard hiding the rather weak receding chin.

‘Teddy!’ she breathed. And then, ‘Your Highness.’

Teddy smiled delightedly, and looking round the room grimaced.

‘It’s the best I could afford,’ she told him; ‘and the landlady is kind.’

‘My poor Jersey Lily,’ cried Bertie. ‘But you’re as beautiful as ever.’

He drew up a chair to the table and regarded her.

‘You should have let me know,’ he said.

‘I’m being cut in society.’

‘You wouldn’t have been if I’d been there.’ Bertie’s blue eyes were quite beautiful when he smiled.

‘You know Edward Langtry is bankrupt … and everyone blames me. I am to have a child. Hostesses don’t want me at their parties now.’

‘You’ll change that,’ said Bertie.

She was unsure of his attitude; he was not the same passionate lover as he had been; but he was still the staunch friend. Lillie was adventuress enough to adjust her mood to his.

She said quickly: ‘I’d like to go on the stage. I think I might have a chance. If I could only get a start …’

Bertie clapped his hand to his thigh enthusiastically. ‘Why, Lillie, it’s just the thing. You’d be irresistible.’

Bertie was excited.

‘The difficulty is getting a start,’ she told him.

‘That should not present insurmountable difficulties,’ beamed Bertie. ‘You leave this to me.’

Bertie left her considerably heartened; and very soon he was back to see her. He brought with him a friend of his, an actor-manager named Squire Bancroft.

‘This fellow controls the Prince of Wales’s and the Haymarket theatres,’ he said. ‘You two should have a talk.’

Bertie had proved himself to be a loyal friend. Of all the people she had known he was the one who had come to her aid; and the manner in which he did it made his help so easy to accept. Bertie was delighted to be of assistance; not only was he giving her an opportunity, he was going to do all in his power to see that she was a success.

An astute businessman such as Squire Bancroft was fully aware that a play featuring Lillie Langtry, the well-known beauty and friend of the Prince of Wales, could not fail to be a success; particularly if the Prince gave his continued support. At a suitable time after the birth of her daughter Lillie went into rehearsal and the following February she appeared in Ours which had as its setting the Crimean War. It was a comedy and if Lillie was not a great actress she was a great beauty and London flocked to see her. Moreover the Prince of Wales was in the audience, and it seemed that the play would go on running for a very long time. Offers came from America, and as she became more experienced Lillie began to show a certain talent.

Lillie was happy, going from success to success; and Bertie was extremely gratified. They had ceased to be lovers, but as in the case of many of his mistresses he remained one of her most staunch and loyal friends.