Dorothy was concerned about George, for young as he was he was engaged in the battle of Corunna where Sir John Moore the commander was killed. As news of the battle reached home she was frantic with anxiety and so was William until news came of George’s safety. This brought them close together again; and Dorothy was at least grateful for that.
That January there was another spectacular fire. It occurred in St James’s Palace and this was declared to be very strange following on the burning of Covent Garden; and as that part of St James’s which suffered was the royal apartments, some significance was attached to this.
The Queen said: ‘It was done purposely. I always said people would not endure the Princes’ behaviour. Our sons will not do their duty. Just think – there is not one who is respectably married. At least the King and Queen of France were that. At least they had legitimate children.’
The Princesses were in a state of nervous anxiety. Amelia was growing steadily more and more feeble and the King asked every few minutes what the doctors had said about her and had to be told, untruthfully, that she was in good health. The tension in the royal household was mounting; it was very bad for the King.
At the beginning of February the New Sessions House at Westminster was burned down. There was clearly a dangerous arsonist at work. But was this the work of one person? Was it intended as a warning? The Queen was sure that it was. The King was becoming so vague that he was not sure of anything.
Then there was real panic in the royal family for the biggest scandal since the Delicate Investigation broke upon them.
The trouble had begun with the startling revelations that a woman named Mary Anne Clarke, who had been a mistress of the Duke of York, had been selling commissions in the Army – which his position as Commander-in-Chief of the Army gave her the opportunity of doing.
What would the royal brothers do next? The subject of the Duke and Mary Anne Clarke was discussed in every club and coffee house. The affair could not be hushed up. The truth must be brought to light. The profits may have gone into Mary Anne’s pocket, but how deeply was the Duke of York involved?
The publicity was enormous and when the case was heard in the House of Commons the Duke’s love letters – ill-spelt and naïve but intensely revealing – were read during the hearing. People were talking about the ‘Duke and Darling’ and quoting from letters; and although the Duke was acquitted of having been a party to the sale of commissions and it was judged that he was ignorant of what was going on, he could no longer hold his position of Commander-in-Chief.
George came home for a short leave – full of vitality and eager to talk of his adventures as a soldier. General Stewart, whose aide George had been, called at Bushy and told the proud parents that George was going to be a fine brave soldier and that there was no one he would prefer as his aide de camp. William was delighted, but Dorothy was apprehensive, fearing that George would be leaving them soon; and she was right.
The next fire broke out in Drury Lane itself. It started in the coffee room on the first floor which led directly to the boxes; and as the safety curtain did not work all the highly inflammable material on the back-stage made a mighty conflagration when the walls crashed in and the crowds were in danger of being suffocated by the smoke.
Sheridan was at the House of Commons at the time, where the reflection from the fire could be seen through the windows. On the Surrey side of the river people could see the glow for miles; and from Westminster Bridge the effect was startling.
When it was known that it was the Drury Lane Theatre which was ablaze it was proposed that the House should adjourn since the tragedy so deeply concerned one of the House’s most distinguished members.
Sheridan would not allow this, although he himself left the House with a few friends and made his way to the burning building.
His theatre in flames! But what could he do to save it? He saw his financial difficulties increased, for the theatre was insured only to the extent of £35,000 which could not cover the entire loss.
Sheridan turned into the nearest coffee house and ordered a drink.
‘Mr Sheridan, how can you sit there so calmly?’ asked one of his friends.
To which Sheridan replied: ‘May not a man sit and drink at his own fireside?’
The remark was repeated with the pleasure that was taken in all Sheridan’s witticisms; but no one else could joke about this great calamity.
And when later there was a fire in Kensington Palace, happily soon put out, and the Prince of Wales received anonymous letters that more fires would follow, it was clear that there was some purpose behind these conflagrations.
Almost immediately afterwards there was a rumour that Hampton Court was ablaze. This proved to be false, but this was not the case in the Quadrangle of Christchurch College, where fire did £12,000 worth of damage.
‘There is mischief in the air,’ said the Queen, and it was the Queen who was becoming more and more influential at court. ‘We shall have to consider carefully what should be done.’
The fires stopped suddenly and soon everyone ceased to expect them. In September there was great excitement in the theatrical world because the new Covent Garden was about to be opened with Macbeth, and Kemble was to speak the address.
Carriages blocked the street and people jostled each other to get into the theatre; but when it was discovered that prices had been increased they were indignant; they had paid the prices and gained entry but they had no intention of accepting them for the future.
During the weeks that followed they crowded into the theatre for the purpose of creating what were known as the Old Prices Riots; and the fear that the new theatre would be wrecked if they persisted caused the management to relent and to declare that the boxes should remain at seven shillings and sixpence and the pit three shillings and sixpence and that there should be no more private boxes.
It was an uneasy year for Dorothy. William was ill again, suffering as he did from his periodic gout; he had developed asthma and this grew worse as the Queen harped on the damage he did the royal family by living openly with an actress. She pointed out the comments of that man Cobbett whom William knew wielded great influence.
He should abandon his mistress; or at least he could pension her off; and as for all those children, he would have to make provision for them, but that should not be an insuperable task.
He tried to explain that he regarded Dorothy as his wife.
‘An actress,’ retorted the Queen. ‘A woman who parades stages in men’s clothes for anyone to pay to go to see!’
‘She is the best and most generous woman in the world. I cannot tell you how often she has given me money.’
‘You should have been ashamed to take it. That’s another thing I’ve heard about you. They say you keep her working to keep you. That’s a very unpleasant thing to be said of His Majesty’s son, I must say. You should put an end to that connection as soon as possible… and in view of all that is happening the sooner the better. Your sister Amelia is very ill. If anything should happen to her it would completely turn the King’s mind. And all these fires and that bullet at the theatre. Where do you think all this is leading? And you – making an exhibition of yourself with an actress!’
‘The people love her. They crowd to the theatre to see her.’
‘Yes, to see the actress who is keeping a royal Duke. You should think about this. You should think about us all.’
William went to Brighton for the birthday celebrations of the Prince of Wales while Dorothy, taking a rest from the theatre, was at Bushy with the family.