Upon the threatened throne still sat good Farmer George and his prim German consort, models of dull domesticity, of narrow convictions, of punctilious etiquette—the epitome of respectable and respected mediocrity, save when, with a profound irony, the recurring blast of insanity transformed the personality of the stolid monarch, and shattered the complacency of the smug little Court. Within its shelter hovered the bevy of amiable Princesses, whose minutest word and glance yet lives for us in the searchlight of Fanny Burney's adoring scrutiny. Afar, the sons pursued their wild careers. The Prince of Wales, the mirror of fashion, diced and drank, coquetted with politics and kingship, and—a very travesty of chivalry—betrayed his friend, broke the heart of the woman who loved him, deserted the woman who had wedded him, and tortured with petty jealousy the sensitive soul of the child who might rule after him.
In secret silence Mrs Fitzherbert endured the calumny of the world, and ate out her heart in faith to the faithless. With flippant and undignified frivolity the Princess of Wales strove to support an anomalous position and find balm to her wounded pride and weak brain; while the passionate, all-human child-princess, Charlotte, awakening with pitiful precocity to the realities of an existence which was to deal with her but harshly, pitted her stormy soul against a destiny which decreed that before her the sweets of life were eternally to be flaunted, to be eternally withheld.
* * * * *
But with the dawning of 1805 the crisis of England's fate approached consummation. Napoleon's plans were known to be completed. Pitt's Continental Allies were secretly arming. The sea-dogs who guarded the safety of our shores—Nelson, Collingwood, Cornwallis, Calder—were on the alert. Yet while England's very existence as a Nation hung in the balance, in the gay world of London those who represented the ton danced and flirted, attended routs and assemblies, complaining fretfully of the unwonted dullness of the town, or in their drawing-rooms discussed the topics of the hour—the acting of the wonder-child Roscius; the lamentable scandal relating to Lord Melville; or, ever and again—with a tremor—the possibilities of invasion.
THE LETTER-BAG OF LADY ELIZABETH SPENCER-STANHOPE
CHAPTER I
1805-1806
LETTERS RELATING TO THE WORLD OF TON
Mrs Spencer-Stanhope to John Spencer-Stanhope. GROSVENOR SQUARE, January 18th, 1805.
Here we are established as of old and beginning our usual avocations…. Our Opera-box we like extremely. I generally take some young woman, which makes us cheerful. Miss Glyn [1] was of my party one night, and was well pleased. Little Roscius [2] appeared again to-night. I almost despair of seeing him, though I will try.