Текст книги "Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill "

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

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Dear Elizabeth! She needed the quiet of the country; she needed a respite from anxiety. They were of a kind. Why should they fall in love and marry—yes marry —men who were so different from themselves?

'Portland will be coming tonight, I suppose,' asked Sheridan.

'My dear Sherry, he almost asked himself. He seems to regard my house as the headquarters of his party, which is comical, considering my politics.'

Sheridan laughed. 'Delightfully incongruous.'

'And Portland is a little jealous of you, Sherry.'

'I know. You are too kind to us. He would like you to be as kind to him. Perhaps if I could persuade him to pass over his fortune to me he would be in a position to entertain the bailiffs, then you might take pity on him as you are now doing on the poor impecunious Sheridans.'

'I am not sure that I should, for impecunious or not I like to think of the Sheridans as my friends.'

Sheridan rose and bowed as gracefully as though he were on a stage.

'One man I will not have in my house,' said Maria vehe mently, 'is Charles James Fox. I know the Prince wishes me to, but I cannot bring myself to receive him here. When I think of

the public insult he gave me, I am determined that I could never accept him as a friend of mine.'

Elizabeth's heart began to beat uncomfortably. She wanted Richard to defend his friend. All the political good fortune which had come to him had been due to Fox's influence. She wanted Richard to stand up for Fox, to explain to Maria that Fox had been forced to act as he had; but to do so was of course to cast a criticism on the conduct of the Prince of Wales and that was something he dared not do.

'Fox, I think, believed he was acting for the best...' he began mildly.

Tor the best!' cried Maria. 'To destrov my reputation. To speak of me as though I were a ... a street woman!'

Sheridan said soothingly: 'Oh, he's a wily old Fox. I well understand why you won't have him here.'

'No,' said Maria, 'not even for the Prince. And I do not think he is quite so fond of Fox as he once was.'

'How could he be,' said Sheridan, 'when you dislike him so?'

Later that night in their bedroom in Pall Mall Sheridan talked to Elizabeth while she brushed her long dark hair.

'Portland is jealous of me. Think of that, Elizabeth. Portland! The great Duke himself. Maria is our friend and don't make any mistake about this: Maria is going to have a big say in affairs. When the Prince is Regent, when he gives his support to the Party, then we'll be truly in power. Poor Mr. Pitt. He will depart and in his place ...'

'Mr. Fox?' said Elizabeth quietly.

'Mr. Fox?' repeated Sheridan almost questioningly. 'Maria hates him. I have rarely seen her so vehement as she was when she spoke of him. She will have great influence. Oh, yes ... great influence, and she is not very pleased with Mr. Fox ... Portland is jealous of me. Think of that Elizabeth. You see ...'

'Yes, I sec,' said Elizabeth.

'The future looks very promising. So why are you worrying about those confounded bailiffs?'

Fox out of favour, he was thinking. Portland jealous of

Sheridan. Could it be? Was it possible? Was Richard Brinslcy Sheridan the future Prime Minister?

Elizabeth, watching him through the mirror, knowing him so well, read his thoughts clearly.

Who knows? she asked herself. He has succeeded so well in one direction, failed so sadly in another.

And whatever the outcome, shall I be here to sec it?

When Parliament reassembled in December Pitt rose to propose a committee to examine the setting up of a Regency. The King's doctors had declared his mind to be deranged, but with the exception of Dr. Warren they believed there was a very good possibility of his recovering.

'We should examine precedents,' said Pitt.

Fox was immediately on his feet. 'What is the need of a committee?' he demanded. 'The heir apparent is of age and has the capacity to govern. If the King were dead he would ascend the throne. The Prince of Wales has the right to govern if his father the King is unable to do so.'

What had happened to Fox? The wily politician with his expert knowledge of parliamentary procedure had made a false step, and it was one which a sharp-witted statesman such as Mr. Pitt would sec at once. The use of the word right was the biggest blunder Fox could have made.

Pitt could scarcely contain himself for his excitement. He whispered to the man seated next to him; 'I can't believe Fox could be such a fool. This gives me the opportunity I want. I'll unwhig the gentleman for the rest of his life.'

Mr. Pitt was on his feet. He could not allow the statement of the honourable gentleman to pa^ss. He had used the word 'right'. Mr. Pitt feared that Mr. Fox had put forth a treasonable doctrine. 'The Prince of Wales,' Mr. Pitt admitted, 'has a claim, but no more right than any other member of this community.'

Fox immediately saw his mistake. Oh, God, what a fool. Why did I use that word? All this time away from the House had blunted his wits; the journey across Europe had sapped his strength. Lizzie was right. He should have taken it more

leisurely. What would a few more days have mattered ... another week. Anything would have been better than that he should make this blunder. And of course Pitt was gleeful. Pitt had leaped into the advantage.

Fox's friend Edmund Burke, that brilliant orator, rose to defend him.

It would seem, he said, that Mr. Pitt considered himself as a candidate for the Regency. Were they now in the presence of King William IV. They should be warned lest they be guilty of Use majeste.

At which Mr. Pitt did what he rarely had done before: he lost his temper. The debate had developed into a farce, he said. But since the question of rights had been introduced it was necessary to set up a committee to enquire into precedents.

When the debate was resumed Pitt's equanimity was restored.

All would admit, he declared, that the Prince of Wales was the most suitable person to take on the role of Regent. The situation was extraordinary; complete power could not for obvious reasons be handed to the Prince for at any moment the King might regain his health. Therefore he suggested that rules should be drawn up and that should the Prince agree to the conditons decided on by the Government the Regency should be his.

Fox, eager to put right his mistake which he realized had given Pitt time to delay a decision, declared that Pitt intended to impose such restrictions on the Regency that it would be impossible for His Highness to accept with dignity.

'The Honourable Member will realize,' retorted Pitt maliciously, 'that since the question of right has been raised there must be this investigation.'

Meanwhile the care of the King was to be in the hands of the

Queen.

* # *

At Kew the Prince chafed against the delay. 'Nothing settled,' he grumbled to Frederick. 'If Fox had not raised that question of rights ...'

Trederick sympathized with him.

'I am beginning to think he is of no use to me,' he said. 'First he upsets Maria by denying our marriage. Maria won't have him in her house. Then he makes this absurd statement about rights.'

But you do have a right,' Frederick pointed out.

But Fox shouldn't have said it. It gave Pitt his opportunity. And Pitt is hand in glove with our mother. The Queen is now coming out in her true colours. She is not so meek as we once believed her to be. I am not sure what she is plotting with Pitt.'

'Can you understand this friendship between them?'

Only that she is the Queen and that Pitt intends to use her against me. She will scarcely allow me to see the King.'

'Absurd.'

'But they have put her in charge of him.'

You are the Prince of Wales ... soon to become Regent ... if you wish to see the King you have every right.'

'His papers and jewels are all locked away. And I am made to feel an outsider.'

'It's ridiculous, George. Come to the King's apartments now. He is safely locked away. If you want to examine the jewels and the papers you have ever)' right to do so.'

The two brothers went to the King's recently vacated rooms and were examining the contents of drawers when the Queen appeared.

Her usually impassive face flushed with anger when she saw what they were doing.

'And what,' she cried indignantly, 'are you doing here?'

'I will tell you one thing we are not doing, Madam,' said the Prince of Wales haughtily, 'and that is explaining our actions to you.'

'These are the King's apartments; and I am in charge of the King.'

'You forget, Madam, that I am the Regent.'

'Not yet... not yet.'

'When my father is incapable of government it is my right to do so.'

'Your rightl' She laughed. That unfortunate word. If Fox

had not used it everything would be settled now. He would undoubtedly be Regent. A curse on Fox!

'Madam, I command you to go to your apartment.'

'My apartment! The servants' rooms which you have allotted to me here? Writing our names over the doors! I never heard such arrogance! You are not king yet, Prince of Wales. I should remember that.'

'Madam,' said the Duke of York, 'I believe you to be as deranged as the King. Come, George.'

The brothers left her and she stood staring after them. When they had gone she put her hands over her eyes. She wanted to shut out this room, shut out the scene which had just taken place.

What is happening to the family? she thought. It seems that we are all going mad.

Fox called at Carlton House in answer to a summons from the Prince who said he would ride from Kew to meet him there.

As soon as he saw the Prince, Fox was aware of the change oi his manner. It lacked the cordiality to which he was accustomed.

'A weary business, Charles,' he said. 'What is Pitt up to?' 'I think, Your Highness, that he means to offer you a Regency with such restricted powers that it will be beneath your dignity to accept it.'

'And then?' asked the Prince. 'It may well be that the Queen will take it.' 'That's something I shall not allow. But this man Pitt...' 'He is determined to make you nothing but a figurehead.' The Prince's eyes narrowed. He looked at Fox—very different from the Fox of a few years ago. Where was the sparkle of Mr. Fox, that irrepressible genius with words, that quick incisive mind which would have dealt peremptorily with Pitt. Gone! Left behind in Italy ... lost in disillusion and frustration. Fox was a disappointed politician.

The Prince said: 'What if the question of Maria should be brought up?'

'We must do all in our power to prevent that.'

'And if it should be raised?'

Fox was silent. Then he said: 'It could have grave consequences. Your Highness, may I be frank?'

The Prince wanted to shout: No, you may not if you are going to tell me truths about Maria. Yet he said: 'But of course.'

'Your association with Mrs. Fitzherbert can bring nothing but harm to Your Highness. I fear that during the debate on the Regency that man Rolle ... or someone like him ... might bring up the point once more.'

The Prince's expression had hardened, but this was no time for prevarication and Fox went on: 'If the lady received the rank of Duchess; if she were given an income of £20,000 a year

'To desert me?' said the Prince.

Fox sighed unhappily. 'It is her religion Your Highness. If she were not a Catholic ...'

'I am sure Maria would decline the offer you suggest, Charles.'

'Then ...' But Fox did not finish, nor did the Prince ask him to.

The Prince walked to the window and looked out and with his back to his old friend he said: 'Charles, there was a letter I wrote to you before ... Some years back. The one in which I said I had no intention of marrying. Do you remember it?'

Did he remember it? It was the letter on which he had based his denial.

'Charles, I should like you to bring that letter to me. I should like to have it back.'

Fox thought quickly. While tte had that letter in his possession he had every excuse for his conduct in denying the Prince's marriage. He had only to produce it and there would be evidence of how the Prince had deceived him; the letter would provide vindication for the denial.

He lied: 'Your Highness, I no longer have the letter.'

'You ... have lost it?'

'It is no longer among my papers. It may have been burned with others. I saw no significance in it ... at the time.' L

The Prince was silent for a few seconds but his manner had grown more frigid.

When Fox took his leave he knew that their friendship had suffered a severe blow.

Back to Chertsey, to consult with Lizzie.

'You see, Liz, I need not have come back post haste. Perhaps it would be better if I had stayed in Italy.'

Lizzie was inclined to agree.

'Can you imagine my making such a blunder? A right to the Regency. Of course he has, but it's unethical to say so.'

'It's said that you should not put your faith in princes.'

'I'm a fool to put my faith in anyone but you, Liz.'

'Well, where do we go from here? Back to Italy.'

'What a pleasant prospect! I have no desire to go to the House and be questioned by that man Rolle. You can depend upon it he'll attempt to bring up the Prince's marriage again.'

'Well, your health has suffered in the last few weeks, so what about staying at home and being sick for a while. I am an excellent nurse.'

'Excellent in all things, Liz. I have blundered and have no desire to take part in this debate. Yes, Liz, I think I'll be ill for a while.'

'A wise decision,' said Lizzie. 'I will immediately begin to nurse you.'

During the early part of the year there was little talk of anything at Court but the Regency Bill.

Society divided itself into two camps—those for the Prince and those for the King. The Duchess of Devonshire was wholeheartedly on the side of the Whigs and the Prince of Wales; everyone who came to her parties wore Regency caps. The Duchess of Gordon, a staunch Tory, gave parties at which the ladies wore ribbons inscribed with the words 'God Save the King'. Maria entertained more lavishly than ever before—the chief of the Prince's supporters.

When the Regency Bill was brought up for discussion in the

House it was inevitable that the Prince's marriage should be referred to.

One of the clauses in the Bill stated that if the Prince resided outside Great Britain or should at any time marry a Papist the powers invested in him should cease.

Mr. Rolle moved an amendment to change the wording of this clause.

He wanted to add: 'Or should at any time be proved to be married in fact or in law to a Papist.'

Mr. Pitt, however, declared that the amendment was unacceptable as the clause was the same as that he had found in other Regency Bills and he believed it offered sufficient security.

Sheridan and Grey both rose to attack Mr. Rolle. The absence of Mr. Fox was commented on by their opponents and, as Fox had feared, the question of the Prince's marriage was again brought forward.

Grey stated that had Mr. Fox not been fully satisfied that his statement on a previous occasion had been true he would have risked his life—however ill he might be—to come to the house on this day.

It was an uneasy situation.

The Prince heard accounts of the debates and wondered what was going to happen next.

Maria was his great anxiety now, as she had been on that previous occasion. But for Maria he would have nothing to fear. It was entirely due to Maria that he must feel this uneasiness now. What big sacrifices he made for Maria!

He entertained guests at Carlton House or in Pall Mall every night. He went to see Fox, and finding him indeed looking in poor health his conscience smote him. Charles had been a good friend to him and when he was with him he remembered this. The ever ready tears came into his eyes as he talked to Fox of the old days. And there was Lizzie, as lovely as ever, to add a discreet word now and then to the conversation.

'When this miserable business is settled, Charles,' he said, 'you shall be my Prime Minister.'

Prime Minister, thought Charles, after the Prince had gone. It had been the dream of a lifetime.

Then he fell to wondering whether the Prince would keep his word. And he remembered the letter which he had not given up and which should be a warning if ever anything was.

For a man of his genius he had not had very much success. He had been very little in office. But Prime Minister! That would make it all worth while.

Yet he felt tired and disillusioned; he kept thinking of the olive groves of Italy and Lizzie beside him reading to him 01 talking of the pictures they had seen that day in one of the galleries.

The Prince was surrounded by friends.

Each day they waited for news from Kew. The Duke of Cumberland had his spies there to report on his brother's progress further along the road to madness. The Prince had promised his uncle the Garter when he came to power. And then of course there would be no more of this absurd banishment from Court, he told the Duchess.

Sheridan should be Treasurer for the Navy. A good post, thought Sheridan, but not Prime Minister of course. Fox was still hoping for that. But it was very likely that in due course ...

He would not relinquish his dream.

So in the House the debates continued. The parties went on; the Prince made lavish promises; and while the Queen's friends prayed for a return of His Majesty to health those of the Prince talked of the Regency and looked forward to the day when it should come into force.

Then came news which was disturbing to the Prince of Wales and so pleasing to the King's supporters. His Majesty's health had shown some signs of improvement; he was now enjoying periods of lucidity.

His doctors believed that there was a very good prospect of

his being restored to health.

• # #

The King's periods of lucidity had been gradually increasing during January and the early part of February, and because of his passion for fresh air his doctors agreed that he might take

little walks in the gardens as long as he was accompanied by one of them and certain attendants.

The King was aware of his illness and very sad because of it; he still talked rapidly until his voice grew hoarse, and although his mind was clear, on certain occasions no one could be sure when he would act with the utmost strangeness.

When his favourite daughter, Amelia, was brought to him he embraced the little girl so fiercely that she protested and made as though to escape, but he would not allow her to do this and dung to her straining her to him until she began to scream to be released. She was forcibly removed by some of the King's attendants and ran crying from the room, leaving the King bewildered and unhappy, wondering why his beloved daughter ran away from him.

But there was no doubt that his health was improving all the time the Regency Bill was being debated.

Fanny Burney who had been suffering herself from the rigours of court life—draughty corridors, long hours of attendance on the never-satisfied Schwellenburg, and the general air of melancholy which pervaded the royal apartments these days—had been advised by her doctor to take exercise in the gardens at Kew and regularly she followed this excellent advice.

She confessed to Colonel Digby that she was terrified of meeting the King on these occasions, so if he should be walking at the same time as she was she always took the precaution of enquiring which way he had gone.

'For, Colonel Digby,' she declared, 'I do not know what I should do if I came face to face with His Majesty. What should I say?'

'You would not have to speak at all, Miss Burney. The King would do all the talking that was necessary.'

'But His Majesty would expect some answers. Moreover, I dare not think in what state His Majesty might be.'

'He is much better than he was. At times quite himself.'

'So I hear ... but...'

'If my duties do not prevent me perhaps I could have the

pleasure of protecting you, Miss Burney, in the gardens of Kew.'

Fanny fluttered her eyelashes. Indeed, the Colonel was a gallant gentleman. Only a little while ago he had brought a carpet for her room, for there was nothing but the bare boards and the wind blowing through the ill-fitting windows was enough to chill one to the bone.

It would be pleasant to walk with Colonel Digby; but of course he had his duties. Schwellenburg had already mentioned to the Queen that Colonel Digby was constantly waiting on Miss Burney though he never waited on her; and the Queen had asked Fanny—half to her delight, half to her chagrin—why the Colonel was so frequently in her rooms. Fanny had wanted to complain then bitterly about Schwellen-burg's treatment of her, but how could one complain to a poor woman who was beside herself with anxieties? If the Queen could put up with a mad husband, surely Fanny could suffer a disagreeable old woman. So she replied that Colonel Digby was a friend and they had much in common—literature for one thing. The Queen was always ready to accept an explanation of Fanny's that concerned literature. After all, was not Fanny a famous novelist?

And now Colonel Digby was unable to accompany her. She was not sure whether it was due to his duty or for some other reason. Colonel Digby had a way of avoiding duty if he wished to; and Schwellenburg had told Fanny quite frankly that Colonel Digby was as often in the company of Miss Gunning as he was in that of Miss Burney.

Fanny asked the guards at the door which way the King had gone walking, if he were in fact walking at all, and she was told that His Majesty, with his doctors and some attendants. had not long ago gone off in the direction of Richmond.

Very well, thought Fanny, then I will walk in the opposite direction. Walking, she mused on the strange behaviour of the King, the courage of the Queen, the motives of Colonel Digby —and she was thinking that it was only this last which ^ave her days some interest, for life at Court was not very exciting. Suddenly she was aware of some figures under a tree, and peered in their direction for she was very shortsighted.

Gardeners, she thought. There were always plenty of them working in the gardens. But as she came nearer, to her great consternation, she saw that the men she had mistakenly thought were gardeners were the King with two of his doctors and some attendants.

Fanny stopped short and looked at the men. She could never think quickly in an emergency. Oh dear, she thought, what have I got myself into? Why did I take this path?

And for a few seconds she and the King looked at each other; she saw the sunken cheeks, the protruberant eyes, and she thought of all the stories she had heard about the strangeness of the King. She believed there was only one thing to do: Escape. She turned and fled.

But the King had seen her. 'Miss Burney! Miss Burney,' he called. But she ran on. She could not face him. What if he seized her as he had seized Amelia? What if he said strange things to her? She must escape.

'Miss Burney. Wait for me, Miss Burney. Miss Burney/

But Fanny ran on. To her horror, glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the King was pursuing her, his doctors and attendants running along behind him. She heard her name called again; she heard the hoarse torrent of words; and she ran on.

'Miss Burney,' called one of the attendants. 'Stop. Dr. Willis asks you to.'

'I cannot. I cannot,' she cried.

'Miss Burney, you must. The King will be ill if he runs like this. Stop. Stop, I beg of you.'

Fanny stopped, and turning, faced the King.

'Why did you run away, Miss Burney?' he asked.

What could she say? I feared your madness? So she did not answer and he came close to her and putting his hands on her shoulders kissed her cheek.

'Now, Miss Burney. I wish to talk to you.' His hot hands were on her arm; he drew her a little to one side; she was thankful to have the doctors and attendants close at hand.

'Ah, Miss Burney, you think I have been ill, eh, what? Yes, I have been ill ... but not as ill as people think. Do you think I have been ill, Miss Burney, eh? what?'

Fanny answered as best she could but there was no need to be anxious on that account for the King, as Colonel Digby had said, was prepared to do all the talking.

He began discussing the American Colonies and he went on at great speed with the ehs? and whats? coming thick and fast. And Schwellenburg. He did not think Miss Burney was very happy with that woman. But she was not to be anxious on that account. He would speak to the Queen. And Colonel Digby? He feared that gentleman was a sad flirt ... oh yes, he feared that. Fanny must not take that gentleman too seriously. Oh he could be a very serious gentleman ... but he was a widower looking for a wife, and a flirt, Miss Burney, a s?d flirt, and had she heard the arrangement of The Messiah? Handel was the finest musician in the world. Her father would know that. He could tell her some stories of Handel and she could tell her father. Dr. Burney would be very interested in the stories he could tell her of Handel. A fine musician.

He began to sing, beating time to the music, and his voice which had grown hoarse with all the talking he was doing, seemed to crack suddenly and Dr. Willis said: 4 I beg Your Majesty not to strain your voice. Come along, sir. Do you not think we should go in and allow Miss Burney to continue with her walk.'

'No, no, not yet. I have to speak to Miss Burney. I have much to say to her. I have lived so long out of the world, Miss Burney, that I know nothing. You understand, eh? what?'

Fanny murmured that she understood very well and the King gripped her arm and put his face close to hers so that she trembled at the wildness in his eyes.

'Miss Burney, I pray you tell me how your father fares. Tell your father that I will take care of him. He is a good and honest man. I will take care of him, Miss Burney. Yes, I will do it myself.'

'Your Majesty is most gracious,' stammered Fanny. 'Your Majesty will get a chill,' said Dr. Willis. 'Your Majesty is progressing so favourably that it would be folly to start your illness all over again.'

'Yes,' said the King. 'Folly, folly, folly...'

* Then Your Majesty ...'

'I will say au revolt to Miss Burncy.' And with that he put his hands on her shoulders, drew her to him and kissed her cheek as he had done when at the beginning of the encounter.

Fanny was overcome with confusion, but the King's attendants were already drawing him away.

The King called over hi: shoulder. 'Do not fear that dreadful woman, Miss Burney. Take no heed of Schwellenburg. You may depend on me. I am your friend. As long as I live I will be your friend. You understand, eh? what? I pledge myself to be your friend.'

Fanny stood watching the King as he was drawn away, smiling and nodding to him as he turned to shout over his shoulder to her.

She made her way hastily to her apartments and when she was with the Queen repeated the conversation to her, although she said nothing of the reference to Madam von Schwellenburg.

'His Majesty still acts a little strangely, Miss Burney,' said the Queen, 'but I do believe he is going to get well.'

The Queen was right.

In the Lords the Lord Chancellor rose to declare that in view of the improved state of the King's health it would be indecent to discuss the Regency Bill further.

The King's health improved rapidly; at the beginning of April the Prince of Wales with his brother Frederick received a summons to wait on the King at Kew in order that they might congratulate him on his recovery.

The Prince of Wales behaved with absolute decorum and was more cordial to his father than he had ever been before.

The improvement went on apace. The King looked old; his speech was quick and incoherent, but his mind was lucid again.

All the royal family attended the service which was held at St. Paul's as a thanksgiving for the King's recovery. It was April and the clement weather brought the crowds into the streets. As the King's carriage rode by the people cheered wildly. L*

'God save the King,' they cried, throwing hats into the air and waving flags. 'Long life to Your Majesty.'

The King was touched by this devotion. The tears came to his eyes and this show of emotion only made the people cheer the more.

But for the Prince of Wales—silence.

He could not understand it. He was the popular member of the household. He was Prince Charming. Yet the people were greeting him with a sullen silence. It was the first time his presence had failed to rouse cheers.

He was angry. Why? What had he done but ask for that which was his right? Why should they suddenly turn against him?

It was because the people believed—in spite of the denial in Parliamant—that he was married to a Papist. Maria ... and her religion ... were responsible for this.

My dear love, he thought, what I have given up for you!

The Queen was elated by the Prince's reception. She had made sure that whenever possible people should be made aware of his callous behaviour during his father's illness. She had arranged that stories should be circulated of his treatment of herself and her daughters; how 7 he had tried to separate a wife from a sick husband, how he had sought for power at all costs, how it was the anxiety over his eldest son that had driven the King mad. Mr. Pitt and the Queen were friends; and the Prince was supporting the unpopular Whigs with Fox at their head. But most heinous of all his sins was that he lived in sin with a Papist or was married to her; and neither situation was one to commend him to the people.

Ah, Prince of Wales, thought the Queen malevolently, you would not accept my love so now you have my hate.

Strange that a mother could hate the son on whom she had once doted. But Queen Charlotte had been kept so long under restraint—treated as a woman of no importance, simply a breeder of royal children—and when such prisoners were free their actions often surprised even themselves.

The cartoonists were busy. The one which attracted the most attention was The Funeral of Miss Regency. This portrayed a coffin on which instead of wreaths was a coronet—the

Prince's—dice, and an empty purse. The chief mourner was Mrs. Fitzherbert.

When the Prince saw the cartoon he thought: Yes, Maria is the chief mourner. She believed that when I became Regent I would have recognized her. And if I had what would have happened? He remembered those sullen crowds at the thanksgiving service and was alarmed.