He thought of George and wondered what he would have done in such circumstances. But George would have refused to wear these clothes in the first place; he would have come here in velvet coat and diamond shoe buckles and no one would have dared look at George as these boys were looking at him now.
‘Have you come to sail with us?’ called a voice from a berth, and a cloud of evil-smelling tobacco came from the same direction.
‘I have,’ said William.
‘You have, have you,’ was the comment. ‘And what’s your name?’
‘I am entered as Prince William Henry,’ said William, ‘but my father’s name is Guelph.’
‘Guelph, is it? We are not to bow three times every time we see you, you know.’
William laughed. ‘Why should anyone bow three times?’ he asked. ‘You must call me William Guelph, for I am now nothing more than a sailor like you. Which is my berth?’
There had always been something natural about William; his fellow midshipmen sensed it now. They had been expecting a swaggering arrogant young coxcomb whom they had determined to put in his place since the orders had gone round that he was to be treated like the rest of them.
But how could they put William in his place when he had already put himself there?
‘I’ll show you,’ said the young man who had asked the questions, leaping from his berth and coming up to William. ‘What do you think of it, eh? It’s not St James’s Palace, you know, and it’s not Windsor Castle.’
William laughed – a rather fresh innocent laugh. He had always had an ability to make friends which his brothers lacked. His was so natural and at heart modest.
The atmosphere changed suddenly. William’s shipmates had decided that although they had a king’s son among them he was not very different from themselves.
A few days after his arrival the Prince George set sail for Torbay and from there went to join the Channel Fleet, the immediate task of which was to prevent the French fleet joining up with that of Spain. This, however, the British fleet failed to accomplish and the combined ships of France and Spain sailed boldly up the Channel as far as Plymouth causing consternation all along the south-west coast of England. The Spanish and French commanders stood on their decks looking through their binoculars at the land and deciding that it would soon be theirs. When they saw the wooded hills of Devon and the rich red soil their eyes glittered greedily, but when they saw too the guns trained on them and heard that Sir Charles Hardy, who commanded the British fleet, was on his way they lost heart and retreated.
William had believed that he was about to see his first action and was surprised on arriving at Plymouth to find that the enemies had fled. The Prince George docked there and William was given a brief leave of absence. His parents wished him to set out for Windsor without delay.
William was delighted although not as eager as he had thought he would be. After a few weeks at sea he had quickly adjusted himself to a midshipman’s life and he found it not as restricting as the schoolrooms of Kew. He had become a man; he listened to men’s talk; he had already engaged in fisticuffs after an argument with one of the midshipmen.
‘If you were not the King’s son,’ he had been told, ‘I’d teach you better manners.’
‘Don’t let that be a hindrance,’ William had retorted.
But his adversary had said it would not be fair for he was older and stronger; but William would not take that for an answer, and they had fought and William had not come out of the fray too badly. The rest of the company liked him because he did not seek special advantages. They forgot half the time who he was and as they knew him as Guelph he seemed exactly like one of them.
Now he was on his way to Windsor and when he arrived he was told that Their Majesties wished to see him without delay.
There were tears in the King’s eyes as he embraced him.
‘I’ve had good reports,’ he said. ‘Digby tells me you’ve done well. Good lad. Glad to hear it. Must remember to set an example.’
The Queen embraced him in her somewhat detached manner; she never showed much affection for any of them except George, and only to him by the way she looked at him and listened intently when he spoke.
The King wanted to know all about his adventures, how they had sailed up the Channel and put the French and Spanish to flight. He was clearly proud to have had a son involved in such an action and William felt pleased with himself; and decided that after all a sailor’s life was a good one and it was more satisfactory to be a midshipman on board Prince George than a child in the nursery.
He saw his two elder brothers who had come down to Windsor for the express purpose of being with him.
George was horrified at his uniform and the oaths which he had picked up, but also amused.
‘They’ve toughened you, William,’ he said, ‘but by God they’ve made a man of you.’
‘It’s an improvement in a way,’ added Frederick.
And they took him into their confidence and told him of George’s latest conquest and how assignations were made in the gardens at Kew while Frederick kept guard for his brother.
They talked with more frankness than they had ever shown before, and William knew that his brothers considered that in becoming a sailor he had become a man.
When he returned to the Prince George it was to a somewhat chilly reception.
‘His Highness has returned,’ declared one of the midshipmen. ‘But of course he had to go home to see Mamma.’
‘What do you mean?’ demanded William.
The boys continued to talk over his head.
‘No leave for the likes of us. Oh, but it’s different with His Royal Highness. He’s not old enough to leave his Mamma. So he has to run home to her and tell her what a rough lot he’s been put with.’
‘Nothing of the sort,’ cried William angrily. ‘It wasn’t my mother who said I was to go, anyway. It was my father.’
‘Ho! His Majesty’s command, eh?’
‘That’s about it,’ said William.
‘And while Master Guelph was going to balls and banquets, Sam here asked leave to go because his father was dying and did he get it? No. But it’s different with His Royal Highness.’
William turned to Sam, real concern showing on his face. ‘I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known. I’d never have gone. I’d have said you must go in my place. How is your father?’
‘Dead,’ was the laconic reply.
There was silence. William turned away. George would have wept and said something moving; but William could say nothing; yet his silence was more effective than words would have been.
Then someone shouted, ‘Wasn’t your fault, Guelph.’
William answered: ‘I have to do what they tell me. I get more freedom here on board than I ever did at home.’
The tension was broken. Someone laughed. ‘Who’d be a Highness? Never mind, Guelph, you can forget all about that here.’
They had realized once more that they really did like their young princeling.
It took only a day or so to adjust himself to life in the cockpit of Prince George. His brief stay with his family had made him forget how coarse the language could be – half of which he did not understand – how airless the cramped quarters, how nauseating the mingling odours and what it was like to live in the semi-darkness with only the constantly burning lamp swinging from the ceiling to relieve the gloom.
His fellow midshipmen were still ready to pounce on the slightest show of royalty; they laughed when he was relieved of duties to study with Mr Majendie. They watched him, when they remembered, for what they called airs and graces.