By George! Prince George's Mating Dance

When we left off last week, George IV had found a new love. Any idea’s what kind of woman would turn his head at this late date?

The Prince’s new love interest was Lady Hertford, daughter of Ninth Viscount Irvine. Lady Hertford was a Tory, as were most members of her family. This put off the Prince not a whit. He was willing to be flexible on that point Lady Hertford was, according to one historian, “a very rich, beautifully dressed, handsome, formal and stately woman of ample, though well corseted proportions.”

This is just as well. The Prince’s own proportions at this time were ample to a degree that no corset could constrain. And an observer would have been generous indeed to have described the Prince’s bulk as “stately.” She had something else going for her. She was married, fifty, and “the most forbidding, haughty looking woman I have ever met.” According to a lady who knew her.

A domineering, older married woman with big hooters. Yes, the Prince was In Love once again. He started the Prince of Wales mating ritual at once. The Marchioness, an “ambitious and rather masterful woman” was pleased as punch over the Prince’s attentions. Shades of Lady Jersey. When she was in London, he would visit her every morning. When she was not, he would write to her every day.

Lady Hertford could hardly have been unaware of the Prince’s intentions. Not being a very subtle person, to say the least, it must have been obvious early on that the Prince wanted her for his mistress. Lady Hertford responded by encouraging the Prince’s attentions. But only so far. This, not surprisingly, inflamed the Prince’s passions even more.

He wrote long letters. She held on to her virtue. He wrote more, longer letters. No dice. Now, according to Lady Bessborough, he became “really distracted.” He had thoughts only for “la Bella e grassa Donna che lo signoreggia ora.” My Italian is pretty rusty, but I think he said “My beautiful, grass covered girlfriend named Donna.” Or not. The physical symptoms of the Prince being in love quickly appeared. At the mention of her name he would become silent and his eyes would fill with tears. He sat up until the wee hours filling page after page of expensive stationary with the most frightful drivel, which he would then send to his beloved, unedited and unvetted. I know my faithful readers can appreciate exactly what that means. Poor woman.

He lost his appetite, he demanded to be bled, and he had a racing pulse, stomach troubles, constipation, (probably a result of taking laudanum) and “nerve complaints.” Some have suggested that he had a milder form of his father’s disease. Perhaps, but considering that he never was a tower of strength, his narcotics intake and his drinking like a rock star, his symptoms were as predictable as they were distressing to those around him. His brother, the Duke of Cumberland chalked it all up to insanity.

Others were equally skeptical. According to Lord Holland, “His health is reported to be bad. Those, however, who had made a study of his gallantries, recognized his usual system of lovemaking in these symptoms.” Lady Bessborough had a rather more distressing run in with the love-lorn Prince. In a letter to her lover, Lord Granville Leveson Gower, she wrote; “Such a scene I never went through. He threw himself on his knees and clasped me round, kissing my neck before I was aware of what he was doing. I screamed with vexation and fright; he continued, sometimes struggling with me, sometimes sobbing and crying…then mixing abuse of you, vows of eternal love, entreaties and promises of what he would do- he would break with Mrs. and Lady H; I should make my own terms.” She closed by saying “…I should not be surprised if he and the ci devant (Mrs. Fitzherbert) were to quarrel during their meeting at Brighton…she has got irritated and he bored.” I imagine she was probably more than irritated.

Mrs. Fitzherbert, of all people, could hardly have been unaware of what the Prince’s behavior meant. And even if she chose to look the other way as regarded Lady Hertford, very unlikely, she would have had to have been comatose to miss his tomcatting around with a wide variety of other ladies.

There was a dancer, Louise Hillisburg. And one Harriette Wilson, whom one historian described as “notorious”, although exactly why was not covered. There was the French wife of the Second Earl of Massereene, (Please do not ask where that is.) There was one other French woman, Mme de Meyer, who was provided with an apartment in Manchester square. The Prince was seen visiting this apartment numerous times. His Motis operandi being to park his carriage in a dark corner of the square, then proceed to the apartment huddled inside a huge army great coat. I’m sure he fooled everyone.

Everyone except Mrs. Fitzherbert. But then, at this point in their relationship, such as it was, the Prince could care less what Maria Fitzherbert thought of him or his behavior. It seems that Mrs Fitzherbert was willing to tolerate much of this because the Prince was only having sex with them. Boys will be boys and it was a Boys World from beginning to end. Lady Hertford was another matter altogether. The Prince was falling in love with her. Or losing his mind, it was hard to tell the difference.

Wrote Lady Bessborough; “He writes day and night almost, and frets himself into a fever, and all to persuade la sua bella Donnone to live with him—Publickly!!!” Lady Hertford did her bit to keep up appearances. She accepted the Prince’s invitations to dine at Carlton House and Brighton, but ONLY if Mrs. Fitzherbert would also be in attendance. The Prince, sensitive chap that he was, was happy to oblige.

-Mr. Al