“. . a young Admiral or a Pickle Duchess’In January of 1794 I at last gave the Duke the son he craved. We named him George FitzClarence, and had him baptized in May. The birth was long drawn out but he was a fine healthy baby. As always I recovered quite quickly and fed him myself, which I’m quite sure the society ladies of Richmond would never do. I also took some much-needed rest from the theatre, enjoying a few months’ peace to devote myself entirely to my child. I loved to walk out through t...he park pushing the perambulator, calling at the shops in Richmond, one of my favourites being a milliner’s shop. I liked to remember the days when I had worked in one myself as a girl of fourteen. I loved to try on hats, and they would laugh when, having done a fair imitation of a society lady admiring myself before the looking glass, I would then put baby George on my lap and change his linen.‘I have never seen the like,’ marvelled the proprietor. ‘You are a mother to those children in the truest sense of the word.’Mother, mistress, actress, manager, sister, financier, supporter and help-meet.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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