Sheridan, whose ambition was great, realized that the task before him was one for a practised politician; he was scarcely that, and to take a false step at such an important stage could ruin his political future. He loved the excitement of politics; he was deeply in debt all round, partly because he neglected the business of earning a living in the theatre for the sake of the excitement politics offered—and he was a drinker, a gambler and spendthrift. So he dared not take a wrong step; he needed Fox.
"There are two alternatives," he said. "Your Highness could in a few weeks' time be King of England ..."
"The King seemed strong enough when he seized me," replied the Prince. "I don't think the trouble is his physical health."
Sheridan replied: "If the King were mad and still continued to live, there would be a Regency."
A Regent should have the power of a king," said the Prince.
"It would depend, Your Highness, on what power the Parliament gave him. Your Highness should not forget that we shall have Mr. Pitt to deal with."
The Prince's eyes narrowed. Mr. Pitt, the enemy! The man who had forced the denial of the marriage out of Fox!
"We can be sure," he said grimly, "that Mr. Pitt will do his utmost to deny me my rights."
Sheridan nodded. "That." he said, "is why we need Charles James Fox who, while he will serve Your Highness with all his power, will be mightily diverted to discountenance Mr. Pitt."
Oh yes, even Maria had to agree that they needed Mr. Fox.
In an easy chair in his lodgings in the town of Bologna Mr. Fox stretched himself with ease. In a few moments Lizzie would come in with a dish of tea to revive him after his afternoon's nap. It was a pleasure to watch Lizzie move across the room. What a graceful creature she was! Italy suited her; and so did this wandering existence. She was never ruffled, and such an intelligent companion. Lizzie had all the qualities he looked for in a woman. Now if he had known Lizzie when he was a young man, and if at that time he had had the wisdom to recognize her qualities, he would never have led the life he had. But then it was due to his adventures with so many members of her sex that he was able to appreciate her. Perhaps, he thought, he would marry her one day. Why not?
This was the life. Politics? Well, yes, he had to admit that his greatest ambition had been to be Prime Minister; but that affair of the marriage and the Prince's deception had made him want to turn his back on Westminster. And so here he was in Italy—and what treasures of art, architecture and music he, and Lizzie with him, had discovered there! He believed this period of travel might well be the happiest of h& life.
Where should they go from here? When Lizzie came in with the tea they would discuss the next move.
He yawned pleasurably and here was Lizzie although it was not quite time and she was holding letters in her hand.
Letters? he thought. But he had left no address in England, his sole purpose being to get away. He had not even wanted to know what was happening there so he had asked that no news sheets or papers should be sent to him. So what could Lizzie be doing with letters?
She was as unhurried as usual as she said to him: "They have tracked you down."
"London?" he said.
She gave him two letters. "There is a messenger outside. He has been chasing all over Europe looking for you, he tells me. He has lately come from Geneva and somehow traced you to this place."
"Good God!" cried Fox. "What can this mean?"
He was opening one of the letters. "Burke," he said. He read it through and handed it to her. The other letter was from Sheridan.
There was a brief silence and then he said: "The King is ill ... seriously ill. So our young Prince will soon be king. You know what this is going to mean for the Whigs."
"That Mr. Fox will lead them to power?"
He was grinning at her.
"But Mr. Fox said only yesterday that he was done with politics."
"Mr. Fox, Madam, can now and then talk nonsense."
"So I thought at the time," said Lizzie. "When do you wish to leave?"
"I shall answer these letters to tell them I am returning with all speed, then go, while you make the necessary preparations to follow me to London as soon as possible. There must be nothing to detain me."
"Nothing at all," said Lizzie, and left him.
The messenger departed with all speed and shortly afterwards Fox set out on his journey, leaving Lizzie to settle their affairs and follow. He was travelling through France when the news reached him that the King was mad.
This, he thought, will mean a Regency.
His eyes were already sparkling with the light of battle. He must press on with all speed. Lizzie would have been concerned for his health had she been here, for he was too impatient to be back to pause long enough to rest adequately. He arrived in London on November 24th, which meant that the journey had taken only nine days. Remarkable speed—but when Lizzie arrived she would see the effect it had had on him. But that was nothing. Once let him get to the House and he would show Pitt that he could not have all his own way while Fox was there to prevent him.
Mr. Pitt travelled down to Windsor. The Prince, who had returned from Bagshot, declined to see him, and Mr. Pitt therefore asked for an audience with the Queen.
Charlotte received him gratefully. It was the first time she had been included in any State matter and she was appreciative of Mr. Pitt's obvious respect for her.
He asked her questions about the King's condition and she answered as frankly as she could, for there was no possibility now of hiding the fact that the King was mad.
"Your Majesty." said Mr. Pitt, "the possibilities are that Parliament will decide that a Regency is necessary and the Prince of Wales will expect to be the Regent."
"That, Mr. Pitt," said the Queen firmly, "is scarcely a state of affairs which would please me..." She amended that immediately to, "which would please us."
Mr. Pitt admitted this. "I doubt that I should remain long in office."
"And it is essential that you should, Mr. Pitt."
The Prime Minister bowed his head. It was an acknowledgment that he and the Queen were allies and he decided to take the Queen into his confidence. "If His Highness should attain the Regency," he said, "it will be necessary to restrict his power wherever possible."
The Queen agreed that this was so.
" I had been thinking of a joint Regency ... with perhaps Your Majesty as one of its members."
The Queen's sallow face flushed a little. This was triumph such as she had never dreamed of. But she was not a fool. She did not believe for one moment that she would be allowed by Mr. Pitt or the Prince of Wales to exert her power over Parliament. But there was one way in which she could have perhaps as much influence as any; that was if she had the care of the King. Suppose this bout was like that other—as temporary as that. Why not! It was not impossible.
"I believe, Mr. Pitt," she said, "that it is better for me to take no part in politics but to devote myself to His Majesty. If I were his sole guardian for as long as this unhappy malady continues, I believe I could be of the greatest service."
Mr. Pitt was pleased. The Queen was a woman of sound good sense. They could indeed be allies.
The Queen was frightened. She was never quite sure what the King would do. He terrified her because he called for her constantly. She had moved into a bedroom which was next to his and he seemed to have an obsession that his enemies were trying to separate him from her. All night long she would hear his rambling conversations, shouting at first, and then as his voice began to fail him growing hoarser and hoarser until just a vague whispering came from the other side of the wall. She would not forget that dreadful night when he had attempted to murder the Prince of Wales. He had always been a kindly man but there had been murder in his face that night, and after witnessing that violent scene she could no longer feel safe. What if he were to turn against her} That very night he had escaped from his equerries and come into the room she occupied and, holding a lighted candle in his hand, had drawn the bed curtains and stood there looking down at her. She had feared that he had come to set the curtains alight as he cried: "Yes, you are still here. I see you are still here. I thought the Queen would be here. I know she would not desert me." And then seeing the frightened face of Miss Goldsworthy who had come hurrying in from the adjoining chamber: "Ah, my honest Gooley, you will take care of the Queen." And he had taken Goolcy's arm and paced up and down the room talking, talking, talking, until she had thought he would drive her mad too. It had seemed so frighteningly long before they took him away.