Read Online The Prince and the Quakeress: (Georgian Series) by Jean Plaidy - Free Book Online
Authors: Jean Plaidy
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tolerance. It might not therefore be difficult to pin on him a charge of being a Jacobite.
‘There you have it,’ said Newcastle. ‘There’s your chance. Use it.’
*
The people of England – and in particular London – had an inquisitive attitude towards their royal family. They jeered, they sentimentalized, they took sides. A young and innocent Prince had their sympathy and interest. He was a charming figure, fatherless, in all probability destined to be their King when a young man. They wanted to know how he was being treated; they wanted fair play for George; and surrounded by such a set of villains as his family were, they believed the situation needed their watchful attention.
The old King was a rogue. The sooner he died the better. He was a German, a little red-faced man without charm, and only happy when in Hanover. He had even brought a mistress over from Germany, implying that English women weren’t good enough! Of course he had his share of them, but to bring a woman from Germany and make her Countess of Yarmouth and set her up as his mistress-in-chief… it was simply not patriotic. He was old – and who ever wanted an old King? Oh yes, they were waiting impatiently for young George. A goodboy by all accounts. And not bad-looking. He was tall – not like his little grandfather; fair skin, blue eyes, rather vacant expression and sullen-jawed; but he couldn’t help that, being a German. A pleasant boy on the whole, and the old fellow couldn’t die quickly enough for the people.
But he was young and there would be jostling for power. The rumours about the Princess were interesting. This Lord Bute seemed to be in constant attendance on the lady. For what purpose? They could guess, and whether it was true or not they were going to believe it was because it was more amusing that way. Bute and the Princess on one side – Newcastle and his henchmen on the other. There was going to be conflict; and this was what the people found amusing.
In the coffee and chocolate houses the latest gossip was discussed. The Whig writers vied with the Tory writers and the witty results of their labours brought great pleasure to all who read them.
So the conflict round the Prince was common knowledge and everyone waited to see who would be triumphant – Newcastle or the Princess Dowager.
The storm broke when Hayter came in and found George reading.
George was not a great reader. He was slow; but he was painstaking and if he took a long time to get through a book, at least he had read every word.
Scott and Stone had encouraged him to read. He should read history they assured him; the subject most necessary to Kings. He should have a good knowledge not only of his own country’s affairs but also those of his neighbours.
‘Your Highness is absorbed,’ said Hayter pleasantly.
George looked up, trying to bring his mind from the book’s subject to the Bishop.
‘It is an interesting book,’ said George. ‘Mr Stone recommended it and I am glad he did.’
‘May I see?’ asked Hayter.
‘But certainly.’
Hayter looked. ‘My God,’ he said. ‘Revolutions d’Angleterre! It’s by a Frenchman!’
‘It makes it doubly valuable… improving my knowledge of the language at the same time.’
‘At the same time as imbuing Your Highness with Jacobite sympathies?’
‘Jacobite sympathies…’ George stammered. ‘But… I could never have sympathies against my own family.’
‘Unless they were presented to Your Highness so cleverly, so attractively, that you felt them to be the truth.’
‘But…’
‘Your Highness says that Mr Stone gave you this book?’
‘Yes, but he thought…’
‘I must ask Your Highness to allow me to take this book.’
‘I have not finished…’
‘Nevertheless my duty impels me to take it.’
‘I… I…’
‘With Your Highness’s permission…’
George was always unsure how to deal with a situation of which he had had no experience, so he allowed the Bishop to take
‘There you have it,’ said Newcastle. ‘There’s your chance. Use it.’
*
The people of England – and in particular London – had an inquisitive attitude towards their royal family. They jeered, they sentimentalized, they took sides. A young and innocent Prince had their sympathy and interest. He was a charming figure, fatherless, in all probability destined to be their King when a young man. They wanted to know how he was being treated; they wanted fair play for George; and surrounded by such a set of villains as his family were, they believed the situation needed their watchful attention.
The old King was a rogue. The sooner he died the better. He was a German, a little red-faced man without charm, and only happy when in Hanover. He had even brought a mistress over from Germany, implying that English women weren’t good enough! Of course he had his share of them, but to bring a woman from Germany and make her Countess of Yarmouth and set her up as his mistress-in-chief… it was simply not patriotic. He was old – and who ever wanted an old King? Oh yes, they were waiting impatiently for young George. A goodboy by all accounts. And not bad-looking. He was tall – not like his little grandfather; fair skin, blue eyes, rather vacant expression and sullen-jawed; but he couldn’t help that, being a German. A pleasant boy on the whole, and the old fellow couldn’t die quickly enough for the people.
But he was young and there would be jostling for power. The rumours about the Princess were interesting. This Lord Bute seemed to be in constant attendance on the lady. For what purpose? They could guess, and whether it was true or not they were going to believe it was because it was more amusing that way. Bute and the Princess on one side – Newcastle and his henchmen on the other. There was going to be conflict; and this was what the people found amusing.
In the coffee and chocolate houses the latest gossip was discussed. The Whig writers vied with the Tory writers and the witty results of their labours brought great pleasure to all who read them.
So the conflict round the Prince was common knowledge and everyone waited to see who would be triumphant – Newcastle or the Princess Dowager.
The storm broke when Hayter came in and found George reading.
George was not a great reader. He was slow; but he was painstaking and if he took a long time to get through a book, at least he had read every word.
Scott and Stone had encouraged him to read. He should read history they assured him; the subject most necessary to Kings. He should have a good knowledge not only of his own country’s affairs but also those of his neighbours.
‘Your Highness is absorbed,’ said Hayter pleasantly.
George looked up, trying to bring his mind from the book’s subject to the Bishop.
‘It is an interesting book,’ said George. ‘Mr Stone recommended it and I am glad he did.’
‘May I see?’ asked Hayter.
‘But certainly.’
Hayter looked. ‘My God,’ he said. ‘Revolutions d’Angleterre! It’s by a Frenchman!’
‘It makes it doubly valuable… improving my knowledge of the language at the same time.’
‘At the same time as imbuing Your Highness with Jacobite sympathies?’
‘Jacobite sympathies…’ George stammered. ‘But… I could never have sympathies against my own family.’
‘Unless they were presented to Your Highness so cleverly, so attractively, that you felt them to be the truth.’
‘But…’
‘Your Highness says that Mr Stone gave you this book?’
‘Yes, but he thought…’
‘I must ask Your Highness to allow me to take this book.’
‘I have not finished…’
‘Nevertheless my duty impels me to take it.’
‘I… I…’
‘With Your Highness’s permission…’
George was always unsure how to deal with a situation of which he had had no experience, so he allowed the Bishop to take
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