The Third George

A wedding in the family

It was hardly to be expected that Wilkes would not cause more trouble, and that he was determined to do this became obvious during that autumn and winter. The storm arose when he published an obscene poem called An Essay on Woman which was a burlesque on Pope's Essay on Man. There seemed to be little doubt that Wilkes himself had had a hand in the writing of this and as there were only twelve copies printed, he had apparently meant them only for circulation among those of his friends who delighted in pornography.

One of the copies came into the possession of Lord Sandwich. When Sandwich and Wilkes were both members of the Medmenham Circle they had been friends until Sandwich had one day called to the Devil to appear before him. Wilkes knowing this was a habit of Sandwich's had previously acquired an ape which he had dressed up to look like the Devil and just as Sandwich called out to the Devil to appear, Wilkes arranged that the ape should be let in. Sandwich was so alarmed that he turned and fled in abject terror to the delight of Wilkes. Discovering the trick Wilkes had played on him Sandwich never forgave him, and when the Essay on Woman came into his hands he saw an opportunity of getting his revenge.

Only a few months earlier Sandwich had become one of the Secretaries of State and had changed his mode of life since the days when he had been one of the leading spirits of Medmenham. Now, expressing his horror that such a hideously obscene and blasphemous work should have been written and printed, he read parts of it to the House of Lords. Wilkes had written notes in the margin of the essay which he had signed with the Bishop of Warburton's name because Warburton had added notes in the margins of Pope's Essay on Man: and when Warburton heard that his name had been used on this foul document he rose in his wrath and castigated Wilkes whom he compared with the Devil. Then he apologized to the Devil for putting him in the same company as Wilkes. So fiercely did the Bishop rage that even those who had been inclined to support Wilkes turned against him. Wilkes had gone too far this time; and when Warburton suggested that proceedings should be taken against Wilkes, charging him with blasphemy, it was agreed that this should be done.

Meanwhile an attack was being made on Wilkes in the Commons, and during this the member for Camelford, Samuel Martin, referred to him as a coward and a scoundrel. Wilkes declared that he had no alternative but to challenge Martin to a duel.

Now the drama was at its height. Everyone waited for the outcome; and when Wilkes met Martin in Hyde Park and was wounded by him, popular excitement grew. The rumour spread that Wilkes's enemies had deliberately commanded Martin to wound Wilkes; and the mobs were out.

Always eager for excitement, they paraded the streets and when one of the City Sheriffs, on order from Parliament, proceeded to burn number 45 of The North Briton before the Royal Exchange, a crowd gathered to prevent him. The North Briton was captured and while one section of the crowd carried it through the streets in triumph, another remained by the fire to throw in jackboots and a petticoat or two to show who they thought were behind all the trouble.

Wilkes meanwhile, on pretext of being wounded in the duel with Martin, remained in his house and did not leave it although he was summoned to appear at the bar of the House of Commons to answer for his sins. This, Wilkes had no intention of doing, and when he saw that he could no longer avoid appearing before his judges he slipped over to the Continent where he fell in with a well-known courtesan named Corradini with whom he set up house. Friends of his, determined to support Wilkes and the cause of freedom, sent him money; and Wilkes settled down for a few months of pleasure, amused to think how he had outwitted them all on the other side of the Channel.

Wilkes's departure did not make matters easier. There was trouble over the tax which Dashwood as Chancellor of the Exchequer proposed should be levied on cider, and a clash in the Commons when George Grenville sought to defend the measure, pointing out the necessity of imposing new taxes.

"Since there was such objection to the cider tax," said Grenville plaintively, 'he wished gentlemen would tell him where to lay them.”

Pitt rose and imitating Grenville's voice repeated the words of an old song: "Gentle shepherd, tell me where.”

Grenville furiously demanded if it was to be permitted that gentlemen were to be treated with contempt. At which Pitt made a deep bow and hobbled out of the House. From then on the mob shouted after Grenville whenever he appeared; and he was known as the Gentle Shepherd. This was typical of the day. The people seized on anything that caused ridicule and raised a smile.

There was trouble and laughter side by side; and the mob was always ready to make a carnival of some poor politician's misfortune.

But their greatest target was Bute. No one could take the place of him. If his carriage appeared they would leave everything to follow it. Some were armed with cudgels; and the Princess Dowager lived in terror that something would happen to her lover. When he came to her she would embrace him warmly and tell him that she trembled to think of what could befall him.

"I cannot endure this," she said. "I am terrified.”

Bute passed his hand over his brow. How he had changed! In the old days he had believed everything was possible; now he accepted defeat.

"Nothing is what I thought it would be. It is due to Pitt. If we had been able to keep Pitt all would have been well." He grimaced.

"I am no Pitt, Augusta," he said.

"That man!" she said. "He deserted us.”

Bute smiled and taking her hand kissed it.

"So loyal. I don't deserve you, Augusta. Let us face the truth. I have failed.”

"What nonsense! You don't know the meaning of failure.”

"If you had been with me in the carriage this afternoon; if you had heard the shouts of the mob ...

seen their menacing faces...”

She shuddered. "Please don't talk of it.”

"It exists, Augusta, my love. You see, I thought I could be a great politician. The fact is, I can't. I haven't the genius for it ... like Pitt and Fox. Men like that... they start up out of the crowd and they make the rest of us look like dwarfs in comparison.”

"My dear, you are overwrought. If I could do what I wished to that senseless mob ...”

"They are not entirely senseless. They are aware of greatness. You have heard them cheer Pitt.”

"Don't talk of that man. But for him ...”

"My dearest, he is a great politician. Let us face it. The country needs him at the head of affairs.

While I am there I am bringing discredit to the King. Do you know that since I have been in office his popularity has waned considerably? And always they talk of us.”

"Oh, my dear, what do you propose to do about it?”

"Resign. Advise the King to call back Pitt and try to make some arrangement with him.”

Augusta put her face against his coat. It was not what they had planned. She and he had believed they would rule the country together; they would guide the King. But it had all gone wrong somewhere. It had started when Mr. Pitt refused to be guided and showed so clearly that if he were going to take a part in leading the country he would be in sole command.

To give up their plan was defeat. And yet if she wished to keep her lover safe, if she wished their relationship to continue in a dignified way, she must take him away from the glare of publicity.

What joy it would be not to have to fret as to what was happening to him every time he was in the streets! She wanted power; but she was a woman who most of all wanted a happy domestic life.

She looked upon Bute as her husband, in fact more so than she had ever regarded Frederick. His safety came first, and the ability to go on living together as husband and wife as they had for so many years.

"Yes," she said, 'go to George and tell him that you can no longer continue.”

Bute embraced her warmly. "To be with you ... to have you care for me as you do ... that is enough for any man," he said.

George showed no great surprise nor disappointment as he listened to Lord Bute.

"My health will not stand the strain," explained Bute. "By remaining in office I can only do a disservice to Your Majesty.”

George looked at his dearest friend with lack-lustre eyes. Who would ever have thought to hear him say that! Bute, always so full of vitality; the man to whom he had turned in his youthful dilemmas. And now he was confessing to age, ill-health and inability to hold his post.

I believe you to be right," said the King.

Bute was hurt that George should take it so calmly. He had expected a show of deep regret, even pleading that he would continue in office. It was disconcerting. But George had changed lately.

He too was disillusioned.

"If Pitt would take over the leadership," began Bute.

But the King shook his head. "He dictates to me. I will not be dictated to.”

"Grenville is the man, then," went on Bute.

"Yes, I think it must be George Grenville.”

Bute took his leave and reported to the Princess Dowager that the King had taken his decision to retire very calmly. He felt that George was slipping away from them and clearly believed that he could manage very well without them.

"You don't think," said the Princess Dowager, 'that Charlotte is weaning him from us?”

"Charlotte! But she is never allowed to take part in anything.”

"No, but he goes to Richmond and it is all very cosily domestic there. She is now speaking English tolerably well and can understand what is going on around her. She is not the meek creature some believe her to be. You remember that letter she wrote to Frederick of Prussia. Do you think a girl who could write such a letter would be content to remain in the background?”

"No, I do not. I think there is much in what you say.”

"And he goes to her whenever possible. He seems to have an affection for her. These babies of hers ... they make a bond between them. She is not yet pregnant again or if she is I have not heard of it, but she had these two boys in a very short time, and the King is delighted with her. Oh, she's plain enough but George was always amenable. Yes, I think Charlotte might well be influencing him.”

"He has always said that he would never be influenced by women.”

"Poor George," smiled Augusta. "He does not always understand himself.”

The Princess Dowager called on the Queen at Richmond. Charlotte was looking well and told the Princess that she found life at Richmond to her taste, and it was very pleasant when the King could spare time from his duties to stay with his family.

The Princess studied her daughter-in-law carefully. No further signs of pregnancy. A pity! That would keep Charlotte occupied. She was conducted to the nurseries where she was delighted with the children. Little George was bright-eyed and his mother assured her, very intelligent. He was over a year old now and really taking notice. His nurses said that they had never known such a bright child. The Princess Dowager sat nodding like an old mandarin. Mother's talk, she thought.

"And the baby?”

"Oh, little Fred is adorable.”

"I wonder if he will be like his grandfather," smiled Augusta, softened by the charm of the children. "Oh, but he is just like his dear papa. Does George think so?”

"George thinks he takes a little after me," admitted Charlotte.

God help him! thought the Princess. No, he has his father's big eyes and chin. How could George see that crocodile mouth in such an enchanting little creature. Like Charlotte indeed. If George thought that he must be growing very fond and foolish. That brought her to the matter uppermost in her mind and which had urged her to take the journey out to Richmond. Was Charlotte beginning to influence George so that he no longer felt so affectionate towards his mother and Lord Bute? It was very likely.

"Dear George, the Government is so tiresome.”

"Oh, yes. He was most upset over that horrible Mr. Wilkes.”

He is talking to her, thought the Princess.

"These dreadful people who will not let us live in peace.”

"And Mr. Grenville tries the King sorely," went on Charlotte. "George says that when Mr.

Grenville has wearied him for two hours, he looks at his watch to see if he cannot tire him for one hour more.”

Charlotte laughed, but was sober almost immediately.

"But the Government is most trying. The King would be happier if Mr. Pitt would come back, but of course, Mr. Pitt never does anything except on his own terms.”

"So the King discusses these matters with you?”

Charlotte put her head on one side. It would not be truthful to say that was so, but it was very tempting to do so. The King answered her very briefly if she attempted to discuss politics. She learned most of the news from her women. Yet she hated to admit this to the Princess.

"These affairs are of the utmost importance," said Charlotte evasively.

So this is the answer, thought the Princess. We are being relegated to a back seat while he confides in this silly young girl who knows nothing of state affairs in this country whatsoever. She is advising the King while he turns away from his own mother and ... her dearest friend and his.

Charlotte had too high an opinion of herself. She did not know how reluctant George had been to marry her. She did not know how he had hankered after Sarah Bunbury Lennox that was. She thought that when she had come over here George had taken one look at her and fallen in love with her. No wonder the silly little creature gave herself airs. The Princess Dowager would not allow that.

"I am glad that you are happy with George, my dear," she said quietly but in a deadly voice.

"We were a little anxious ... just at first. I daresay you have heard about his obsession with Sarah Lennox. There is bound to be little-tattle.”

"Sarah Lennox ..." echoed Charlotte, wrinkling her brow.

"Married Charles Bunbury about the time of the King's illness. A pretty, empty-headed creature.”

Charlotte remembered her at the wedding. The bridesmaid who was the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. And George had looked at her ... longingly. She felt suddenly sad.

"He wanted to marry her. It was quite impossible of course. Then he saw sense and ... he behaved as he knew a king should. And how right it was. Here you are with two beautiful babies. They couldn't be more beautiful, I am sure.”

Charlotte sat still thinking of it. The wedding; the sacrifice he had had to make. Yet he had never mentioned it; he had never been unfaithful to her, she was sure. Poor George, to have been robbed of his dreams as Christina had been of hers. She often thought of Christina. Only Christina had no one; George had been presented with Charlotte; and he had married because it was his duty to marry; and they had two beautiful children. Sarah Lennox could not have produced more beautiful children. That was what the Princess was telling her.

She heard herself say: "It is sad for royal people that their wives and husbands should be chosen for them.”

"It is all for the best. I had never seen my husband until I came to England, and it all turned out very happily. We had our children and then..." And then, she thought, he died and I turned to the man I loved. Yes, she had been fortunate, but it was Charlotte and George she must think of.

"And now, my dear, you have your children.”

Charlotte picked up the baby and held him tightly against her. All was well. George was a good husband; and she had the boys. Why should she care about Sarah Lennox?

"I am sure," went on the Princess, 'that George has forgotten Sarah Lennox ... just as he did the Quaker girl.”

"The Quaker!”

"Oh, it is nothing. Past history, one might say. But there was rather an unfortunate little matter.”

"A Quaker girl," repeated Charlotte.

"Has he ever talked to you of her?”

"Never.”

"Nor of Sarah Lennox?”

"No.”

"Then he would not wish it to be known that I have mentioned these women.”

"I shall not tell him.”

"He would be distressed if you spoke of them. He always said that he would manage his own affairs.”

Charlotte was silent.

"George was never one to like interference," went on the Princess Dowager. Was the message sinking in? Did she understand that George was capable of liking other women, that he was not the dull unadventurous husband she had no doubt been thinking him? Was she beginning to see that if she wished to keep George's affection she must not interfere?

The baby began to cry and Charlotte hastily picked him up. She had dismissed the nurse while she showed her children to the Princess Dowager and had the pleasure of knowing herself in command of them. It was not often so. The baby was immediately soothed. What had she to fear, she asked herself, when she had her little boys?

Sarah Lennox was safely married and out of the way; but she did wonder about the Quaker, for she had noticed on several occasions that George was deeply affected by them.

The Princess went back to her apartments well pleased with her interview. There she sent for her daughters, Augusta and Caroline Matilda. As they came into the apartment she thought how sulky Augusta looked nowadays; it was always so with princesses who were unmarried. Augusta was a year older than George and was naturally resentful that she had not been born a boy.

In fact, thought the Princess Dowager, perhaps Augusta would have made a better sovereign.

They should find a husband for her before it is too late. Perhaps now that dear Lord Bute was free of his cares it would be more like it used to be and they could plan together.

Caroline Matilda, aged thirteen, showed signs of being the beauty of the family. She was very very fair, as the whole family were. The blue eyes, the fair skin, the shining hair so pleasant in youth. But they must watch that she did not become too fat - a family failing. Husbands, thought the Princess Dowager, for them both. She would certainly speak to Lord Bute. She embraced the girls coolly, she had not much affection to show to any but Lord Bute and the King, and made a sign for them to sit down.

"I have visited the Queen at Richmond.”

"Domestic bliss," sneered Augusta.

Poor girl, thought her mother. She is very envious. Yes, certainly a husband.

"She is happy enough with her two babies.”

"What a fortunate thing that she happens to be fruitful. She has little else to offer.”

"I don't think she's so bad," put in Caroline Matilda; and was silenced by looks from both mother and sister.

"She is getting a little arrogant, I fancy. I believe she imagines she advises the King.”

"That explains why there is all this trouble with the Government," said Augusta, who enjoyed being spiteful.

"I am sure the King would never take her advice," said the Princess Dowager coolly.

"Then there is some other reason why the people are so dissatisfied.”

How much did her daughter know? wondered the Princess Dowager. Did she know that the people paraded through the streets with jackboots and petticoats, that they made bonfires in which to burn them, erected gibbets on which to hang them?

"The people are never satisfied," said the Princess Dowager. "I want you two to be watchful of the Queen. She is not very old not much older than Caroline Matilda here. She could be led astray.”

The Princesses' eyes widened and their mother hurried on; "I mean that she could listen to gossip.

She could become indiscreet and she might attempt to influence the King.”

"George always said that he would never let a woman influence him. But what of Sarah Lennox?”

"I do not wish you to speak disrespectfully of the King because he happens to be your brother.”

"But Your Highness will face the truth I am sure," said the Princess Augusta. "Everyone knows George was madly in love with Sarah Lennox.”

"The woman is safely married now. Though I pity Bunbury, I do not wish you girls to talk of that unfortunate affair. But I do wish you to draw out Charlotte as much as possible. Discover whether the King really does confide in her ...”

"In other words spy on her," said the Princess Augusta, 'as you commanded us to do on the King when he was considering marrying Sarah Lennox.”

"Nonsense," said her mother. "I merely wish you to help Charlotte.". The Princess Augusta was smiling sardonically. And in front of Caroline Matilda! There was no doubt about it, thought the Princess Dowager, her elder daughter was getting out of hand. She was becoming sardonic and cynical and very much aware that she was growing into an old maid. She had not only Charlotte to worry about, but her own Augusta.

She dismissed her daughters; and decided that since Augusta was becoming so uncomfortable they certainly must find a husband for her. The Princess Dowager did not wish the King to forget that although Lord Bute was no longer the head of the Government she still regarded him as the chief family adviser, and when she called on the King to speak to him about his sister's unmarried state she asked Lord Bute to meet her in the King's apartments.

They did not travel together; that would have been inviting the mob to hurl obscenities at them; it was bad enough now to go through the streets and see the jackboot and petticoat paraded or some of the posters which had been put up in prominent places. The Princess liked to travel as quietly as possible and she knew that Lord Bute did too.

The King received them with affection, but not that deference he had shown in the past. She had no need now to tell him to be a king, as she constantly had been obliged to in the old days. George was very much aware of the burdens of state and wanted no one to remind him of them.

"It is of your sister Augusta that I have come to talk to you," said the Princess. "We have been discussing her future and we really feel it is time you did something for her.”

"But what should be done?" asked George.

"She needs a husband. She grows more waspish every day. Don't forget she is a year older than you. We must do everything possible to find her a husband.”

"It is not easy to find a Protestant prince.”

"That has always been the trouble. But we must marry her to someone. She needs marriage I am sure and she is becoming a little tiresome here at Court.”

"Poor Augusta!" said George. "Certainly we must do what we can for her.”

The Princess Dowager sighed. "She feels it deeply being the eldest and not born a boy. I shall never forget the night she was born and how we hurried from Hampton to St. James's because your father hoped she would be a boy and it was imperative that the heir to the throne be born there. There was nothing ready for us and the beds were unaired. Poor Augusta had to be wrapped in a tablecloth.”

Both Lord Bute and the King had heard this story many times before, but they listened sympathetically.

"And when the Queen ... your grandmother, George, came to see her she said she was a poor little mite to be born into a sad world. And so it seems. Poor Augusta! She has never been reconciled to being born a girl. So we must find a husband for her, George.”

"We will do our best.”

"And soon, George. There should not be a long delay. Augusta can no longer be called very young.”

"We will consider the matter as urgent," said George. He looked to Bute and something of the old relationship was between them.

"I found Grenville arrogant," he said. "And Pitt... well, Pitt is difficult too. I took your advice and summoned him. I felt it was necessary now that Egremont has died. But Pitt will return on his own terms. He wants to restore the Whigs. If Pitt would come as head of the Government all well and good. But now he will bring back the Whigs. I said to him: "Mr. Pitt, my honour is concerned and I must support it." So Grenville continues in office and plagues me and tires me and bores me.”

"Ah, what times we live in," sighed Bute; but he had no consolation to offer.

It was very different, thought George, from the old days. But he must devote himself to arranging a marriage for his elder sister. Poor Augusta. Naturally she wanted to marry and have children before it was too late. He understood that. He had his two at Richmond. How he wished he could escape to them and play with them and enjoy the life of a country squire. But duty must come first. In a few days he was negotiating a marriage between his sister Augusta and Charles, Duke of Brunswick Wolfenbiittel.

If George was displeased with George Grenville, so was Grenville with George. For one thing Grenville knew that the King had approached Pitt and it was only because Pitt's terms were impossible that Grenville was invited to stay in office. Having learned that Pitt had had an interview with the King, Grenville went on to discover that this had been brought about through the work of Bute; and that it was Bute in the first place who had suggested Pitt to be approached.

Grenville in a rage went to see the King. As soon as George received him he began one of his lectures which the King found so tiresome, and as George yawned and watched the clock Grenville made no attempt to cut it short. At length the King, exasperated beyond endurance, said that he had other matters to which he must, attend. Grenville replied that he would come to the point and tell His Majesty of his disquiet that Lord Bute, who had resigned from the Government at the people's desire, should still hold so much influence with His Majesty that he could suggest the recall of Mr. Pitt, and that that recall would have been brought about but for Mr. Pitt's intransigence.

The King was trying to catch at the gist of this harangue when Grenville said: "Sire, I can only continue in office if I can be assured that Lord Bute does not enjoy secret conferences with Your Majesty.”

"I will give you that assurance," replied the King. "But it is true that I invited Mr. Pitt to come and see me at Lord Bute's suggestion. It shall not happen again.”

"I sincerely hope it will not," said the Minister grimly, knowing that if he resigned on account of Bute and the people knew, and he would make sure that they did, the King's unpopularity would increase and so would the lampoons and manifestations of the City's hatred against Bute.

"And Your Majesty, if I am to continue in office I must insist that Lord Bute leaves London.”

"Leaves London!”

"Your Majesty it is a condition of my service. If Your Majesty feels that it is impossible to banish Lord Bute then I shall be compelled to deliver to you my seals of office.”

George was angry, but he could see that he was at the Minister's mercy. Would any minister have dared to speak to his grandfather like that? There had been lampoons about George II and it was said that he was ruled by his wife and Sir Robert Walpole which doubtless had been true, but no one would have dared put such conditions to him as Grenville had just done to George III. Of course he was young, a novice at the art of ruling; and he was weary and tired and his head ached and he felt far from well. But he knew that he dared not lose Grenville at this time, so Bute would have to leave London.

George muttered: "I will ask Lord Bute to leave us for a while.”

"And Your Majesty, it could not be permitted that one of Lord Bute's friends take over his office of Keeper of the Privy Purse.”

"Good God," cried George, humiliated into a display of anger, "Mr. Grenville, am I to be suspected after all I have done?”

Grenville murmured: "It is imperative to Your Majesty's Ministers and to the City of London that Lord Bute is not suspected of being Your Majesty's chief adviser.”

The King turned away and when his minister had left, sent for Lord Bute to tell him that he must leave. He was surprised at Bute's meek acceptance of dismissal, though he himself would have given a good deal to escape from his bickering ministers. But he was not particularly sorry either.

When he thought of the old days when he had doted on this man, when he had been terrified of mounting the throne without him beside him, he was astonished that everything could have changed in a comparatively short time.

"It will only be a temporary absence," he murmured. "But I had no alternative but to agree to it.”

Bute nodded.

"You will tell my mother?”

Bute answered that he would.

After he had gone the King sat thinking of them, Bute and his mother. In truth their relationship, of which the people in the streets had made him crudely familiar, shocked him. This was at the root of his changed feelings towards this man who had once been his dearest friend.

And yet, he thought, I went through a form of marriage with Hannah. And if that were a true marriage and if Hannah still lives then I am not married to Charlotte. We are living in sin as my mother is with Lord Bute.

No. it's not true, he told himself. I must shut that thought right out of my mind. For what with Mr.

Pitt and Mr. Grenville, Mr. Wilkes and the rest I should go mad if I dwelt on that too. He would not think of it. Bute would go away for a while and his mother must need to put up with his absence. After all, hadn't he been forced to give up Sarah completely? So why should his mother complain at giving up Bute for a few weeks? They must forget their own troubles and set about arranging Augusta's marriage.

The Princess Augusta was very excited about her coming wedding. She had been presented with a picture of her future husband and was not displeased with it. Caroline Matilda was almost as excited.

"One wedding begets another," she said. "It will be my turn next. Oh, Augusta, just imagine I You'll go right away from us all to a strange land. I wonder what Brunswick's like. I suppose it's not far from Mecklenburg. How odd! You go there and Charlotte comes here.”

"Nothing odd about it," said Augusta sharply. "It's just the nature of things.”

"Oh, the nature of things!" cried Caroline Matilda, dancing round the apartment, her yellow hair streaming out behind her. "And the nature of things is that I'll be the next one. When do you think there'll be a wedding for me, Augusta?”

"Not for years. You're only a child.”

"Thirteen. Charlotte was only seventeen. And as I told you, weddings come together. I'm longing to see Charles. I wonder if he's like his picture. Are you shivering with apprehension?”

"When you reach my age, child, you don't shiver with apprehension, you only sigh with relief.”

Caroline Matilda giggled. "I hope he's a little more handsome than poor Charlotte.”

"Hush! You are speaking of the Queen.”

"Perhaps all Germans are plain.”

"What about us? Are we not mostly German?”

"That was Grandfather. We're all English." Caroline Matilda surveyed her face thoughtfully in a mirror. "In fact," she went on complacently, "I think I am rather good looking.”

Augusta laughed derisively and Caroline Matilda continued to giggle. Since Augusta knew she was to have a husband she had become much pleasanter to her young sister.

And in January Prince Charles Frederick of Brunswick arrived in England. George took an immediate dislike to his prospective brother-in-law, and so did the Prince to him. Charles Frederick was twenty-nine and high spirited; on the way over he had been talking with the utmost indiscretion about English politics; he had stated that the King was inexperienced and had been led by the nose by Lord Bute, before that gentleman had been sent packing, while refusing the services of one of the greatest politicians alive, by whom he meant William Pitt. When this conversation was reported to the King and his ministers it did not endear them to the visitor.

As for the Princess Dowager, she declared that she had never liked his family. She had accepted him as her daughter's husband, she told Lord Bute, when he paid his secret visits to her - for it was not to be expected that they would give those up - but the old Duchess of Wolfenbiittel was the most disagreeable woman she had ever known, and everyone was aware that she had refused her daughter for George, although his grandfather had tried to foist the girl on to him.

If it was not for the fact that Augusta must have a husband she would never have agreed to the match. But Augusta really was a trying creature; her tongue was so sharp and she was interesting herself too deeply in politics. She was a supporter of Pitt's and with her brother, the Duke of York, was actually taking sides with the Opposition and those who were against the policy of the Court.

Augusta was a real meddler. Well, let her meddle in Brunswick. The Princess Dowager went to see her son to talk of the coming ceremonials.

"I don't see why we should go to any length to impress Brunswick," said Augusta.

"Nor I," agreed George. "The fellow is an oaf. He would not know the difference between a Court ceremony or a country-house ball. So why go to the expense?”

"It would be a great expense. And don't forget we have already had to pay the fellow handsomely to take her.”

"Eighty thousand pounds, an annuity of 5000 pounds a year on Ireland and 3000 pounds a year on Hanover. It's being an expensive matter getting rid of Augusta. Now for heaven's sake, do not let us add to the expense.”

"We won't; I am ordering that the servants should not have new livery.”

George was looking better than he had for some months; he had always enjoyed working out details of household expenditure.

"And," he went on, "I have decided that he shall be lodged at Somerset House and that there will be no need to station guards there.”

Augusta nodded, approving, but thinking at the same time: "In the old days he would have consulted one of us first.”

"Doubtless he will be unaware," said the Princess Dowager, 'that he is not being treated with the respect one would naturally give to a gentleman in his position. I believe manners are very crude in Brunswick.”

This may have been so, but the Prince was immediately aware of the coldness of his reception and was furious. He was by no means meek and had no intention of hiding his displeasure. He had distinguished himself on the battlefield with the armies of Frederick the Great and, since he had come to England to take an ageing princess off their hands, he had expected better treatment.

The only one at the English Court who was pleased with him seemed to be his bride and she would have been pleased with any bridegroom. At least he was not deformed and she pretended not to notice his crudities. The ladies and gentlemen of the Court, taking their cue from the King, all showed their dislike of the bridegroom to such an extent that it would seem they were trying to influence the Princess Augusta against him.

But the Prince of Brunswick discovered a way of having his revenge. When he went out into the streets and the people crowded about his carriage to see him pass, he was extremely affable and showed his interest in them; he waved and smiled and very soon he had them cheering him. There was an occasion when he saw a soldier in the crowd who had served with him in the field; he acknowledged the man and they talked for a while with the crowd pressing close. That cemented his popularity. Here he was a visitor to England, a young bridegroom, and he was slighted and insulted. He was pushed into Somerset House without a guard and it was clear by the way he was unescorted that he was being humiliated.

The people were up in arms. This was a further cause for complaint against the King and his ministers. How dared they treat a visitor so! It was unpatriotic, un-English! Well, the people of London were going to teach their king manners. So wherever he went it was: "Long live the Prince." The women threw kisses; the men cheered themselves hoarse; and the Prince was slyly delighted. There was only one thing which would have discountenanced the King and his ministers more, and he proceeded to do it. He made overtures to the leading members of the Opposition for having studied English politics he was aware of the effect this would have and was invited to dine with the Dukes of Cumberland and Newcastle; and not content with that he visited William Pitt at his Hayes residence.

"He's a scoundrel," spluttered the King; but he had to admit that the Prince had outwitted him and his ministers and that this was one more failure.

Four days after the Prince's arrival he and the Princess Augusta were married. The Princess Augusta found she had married a masterful man. He was not much concerned with the niceties of life and her introduction to his somewhat coarse mode of living was a little startling. Temporarily she was robbed of that arrogance which had always prevented her from making friends and there was something pathetic about this once self-sufficient woman now faced with a new life in a land of which she knew nothing, with a husband almost a stranger to her; all she did understand was that it would be very different from life as she had lived it hitherto.

Caroline Matilda watched in awed silence. Marriage, she decided, was not the gay game she had once believed. Suppose when her turn came they gave her a husband like this prince. She shivered. She had pictured all husbands mild and gentle like her brother George.

The bridegroom kept up his feud with the Court and two days after the wedding when he and his bride, with the King and Queen, paid a visit to the opera he had an opportunity of scoring over the King.

Charlotte, taking her cue from George, was very cool to the Prince, and Augusta was displeased with her. Who, Augusta asked herself, does she think she is, to put on such haughty airs! The sister of a little Duke of Mecklenburg and she dares to patronize Brunswick!

Charlotte was thinking how happy she was to have a husband like George. She shuddered, contemplating how different this man must be. George was so gentle, so tender, such a good father and husband. Poor Augusta! She pitied her.

Augusta was in no mood to be pitied by silly little Charlotte who was kept almost like a prisoner at Richmond and Buckingham House and was never allowed to voice an opinion. And who was she to be sorry for her, Augusta, when everyone knew George had had to be persuaded to marry her and had only done so out of a sense of duty?

As they entered the box, Augusta whispered: "The Opera House will be crowded tonight.

Everyone will be here. I wonder if Sarah Bunbury will be? If she is, everyone will be looking at her ... everyone. She is said to be the most beautiful woman at Court.”

"I doubt they will look at her even so," said Charlotte. "Everyone will want to be looking at the bride and groom.”

"Poor Sarah! She will have to be content to have George ogling her.”

Charlotte flushed slightly but made no response. Did he, she wondered, still think of Sarah?

Charlotte had moved to the front of the box with the King and they stood together looking down on the audience. There was silence in the Opera House. It was most embarrassing. George sat down and Charlotte did the same, and then the Princess Augusta and her husband came forward.

Immediately the audience rose. A cry went up: "Long live the Prince and Princess.”

There were loud hurrahs and "God bless the married pair'. And Augusta and her husband stood there bowing and accepting the cheers. Then to Charlotte's horror she noticed that the bridegroom had his back to the King. This was an insult, an intentional insult.

She glanced at George who, she saw at once, was aware of what was happening. His blue eyes bulged a little more than usual but he gave no sign. There was nothing he could do. The people were acclaiming the newly married pair so vociferously to make a contrast to the silence with which they had greeted their king and queen.

George had made up his mind. He told Grenville: "They must leave immediately. I will not have them here.”

"Sire, the visit was to last a few more weeks.”

"I do not care for that, Mr. Grenville, sir. I say they shall leave the day after tomorrow and that is my final word on the subject." George's mouth was set in stubborn lines. He was determined on this matter to have his way.

The Princess Dowager applauded his firmness. "I shall be glad to see the back of that man," she said, 'and since Augusta married him she appears to be more impossible than ever.”

So to the disgust of the Prince of Brunswick he was obliged to take his bride to her new home, for there was no longer to be hospitality for them in England. The Princess Augusta protested that the weather was too inclement for them to set sail for a while, but the King was adamant; weather or not they should go at once. He would not be insulted in his own country.

The Princess stormed and wept for the prospect of leaving home became more alarming the nearer it grew. Her husband made no attempts to make her position easier. He had told her that she would have to accept his mistress Madame de Hertzfeldt whom he had no intention of giving up.

"All that will be changed now," she told him; but he merely laughed at her.

"Listen," he said. "You bear a child and that's all you need worry about.”

"I shall refuse to receive your mistress," she told him.

He roared with laughter. "It's not you she wants to receive. It's me. And we don't receive in Brunswick. You'll find it a bit different there, my girl, from your fancy English Court.”

Oh, yes, undoubtedly the Princess was apprehensive and sought to delay departure as long as possible. But George had never been fond of her as he had of Elizabeth the sister who had died, and as he was of young Caroline Matilda. Augusta had always been a troublemaker and he would be glad to see her go.

So the Princess could do nothing but set out with her husband on the day the King had appointed, and a very cold and blustery day it was, for at the best of times the end of January was not an ideal period to take a sea voyage; and so it proved, for when they were at sea a violent storm arose and as there was no news of their arrival from Holland, rumours that they were drowned began to circulate.

This was first whispered in the streets, then a great cry of anger rose up among the people. They had not wanted to go; they had been forced to set sail when the weather was so bad that they were certain to face great dangers. This was due to the cruelty of the Princess Dowager and Lord Bute and this time the King could not be exonerated. It was the first time that the King had been so severely criticized and for a few days his popularity was at its lowest.

Then news arrived of the safe arrival of the Prince and Princess of Brunswick and the murmurings died down. But the people's feelings for the King had suffered a severe decline. Previously they had blamed Jackboot and Petticoat; now he would stand alone. He was no longer their charming handsome King; his looks had undergone a change; the first flush of youth was over; and others would no longer be blamed for the disasters around the throne.

Meanwhile the poor Princess Augusta had arrived at her husband's court to find that his palace was nothing more than a cold and gloomy wooden house with shabby furniture. And installed as its mistress was the flamboyant Madame de Hertzfeldt, whom the new husband greeted with exuberant spirits and with whom he retired to bed, leaving his wife to settle into her new apartments alone. The Princess began to feel that even a watery grave might have been preferable, and she could scarcely bear to think at all of her luxurious apartments in the English Court.

Why, why, why, she was to ask herself during the next years, did I ever think that marriage in any form was better than the single life? Oh, to be a virgin princess once more, to walk in the gardens of Kew or Richmond, to join a card party at St. James's or Buckingham House. Lucky Caroline Matilda who could still do this! Luckier Charlotte who had left a place similar to this to be the Queen of England! But being Augusta, strong of will and in command of herself, she settled down to make the best of her uncongenial surroundings; and in due course she gave birth to a child. It was a girl and she named her Caroline.

The year which followed the Princess Augusta's departure was a distressing one for the King. He felt his responsibilities weighing heavily upon him. He had lost Bute; it was not, he realized now, that Bute's advice had been so valuable, but that he himself had had such complete confidence in it. He now stood alone and he was not yet capable of doing it. He was well aware of his deficiencies and at the same time his sense of duty was so strong that he knew he must overcome them.

The wranglings in his Parliament, the estrangements from Bute and consequently his mother, although the Princess Dowager did her best to keep a firm hold on him, made it impossible for him to turn to anyone for help. He disliked his ministers; he realized the worth of Pitt but Pitt's autocratic demands made it impossible for George to ask him to form a Ministry. Had he turned to Charlotte they might have worked together, but Charlotte had no knowledge of state affairs; it was not that she lacked the intelligence, it was merely that she had been deliberately kept in the dark.

Charlotte might have stood with him as Queen Caroline had with his grandfather, but George in his obstinacy had declared he would never allow a woman to interfere, thus Charlotte was kept apart; her only cares were for her children at Richmond.

George was not sleeping well; he was now and then troubled by strange rashes on his chest. He showed them to his doctors, but although purging, bleeding and ointments were applied these afflictions came and went irrespective of these treatments. Sometimes he felt dizzy and suffered from headaches. He began to feel a little uneasy, but he tried to keep these feelings to himself. He believed that if he could get a good government which could settle the country's trying affairs, if he could regain the affection of his people, if he could grasp the handling of state matters with greater knowledge and the skill which only experience could give, he would be a good ruler; and if he were, the doubts and fears which tormented him and were responsible for sleepless nights, which brought the rashes and the headaches, he was sure all would be well. At least he had one great and burning ambition; to be a good king and do what was best for his people.

He would be up early in the morning, lighting his fire, going back to bed for a few minutes while the room warmed and then going through the state papers. Wilkes was fortunately safely in exile.

Grenville whom George thought of as "Mr. Grenville' and refused to address as anything else was arrogant, believing himself indispensable, which perhaps he was since Pitt could not replace him.

But the King tried to keep his mind off the intransigence of his ministers for when he thought of them his head ached and the dizzy spells came on.

How delighted he was when he could leave the precincts of St. James's and go to Richmond. What a pleasure to ride through the country lanes, to chat with people who passed; to be the king-squire with whom everyone was glad to have a word. Pretty rosy-cheeked country girls bobbing their curtseys; toddlers hiding their faces in their mothers' skirts.

"Come come," he would say jovially, 'do you not wish to say a how-de-do to your king?”

"Oh, Sir, he be shy, but you wait till he's older and I tell him the King spoke to him and he hid his face and wouldn't look." Pat the child's head and tell him to be good to his mother. Kiss the little girls, he loved the little girls best of all in their little aprons and muslin frocks. They were his most adorable subjects. He visited the farms, discussing harvests with farmers, and once when he was walking in the lanes he came upon a farm cart which had stuck in a rut. The driver was trying to hoist it and George joined him, putting his shoulder to the wheel. And what a moment of pleasure when the driver recognized him and stuttered and stammered his incredulous thanks. That was a story which would be repeated throughout the country. It was the kind of thing which he did naturally without thinking and which won him the people's affection.

All would be well, he assured himself, if only he could bring prosperity to England and prevent his ministers bickering together in the House of Commons. The figure of Pitt swathed in bandages loomed over the King and the Government. Although he was often in great pain from his gout, the menace of Mr. Pitt was formidable. Yet if Mr. Pitt could be persuaded not to make such demands, to be a little less autocratic, how much easier life could have been; and how content the King would have been to work with such a brilliant minister. When he looked back he saw the great mistake he and Lord Bute had made when they had imagined that the latter could be as strong, as brilliant, as far-seeing and as great a politician as the Great Commoner.

Always he came back to the trials of state affairs. No wonder he wished to get away to Richmond.

George felt his responsibilities towards his family very deeply. His brothers were proving themselves to be somewhat wild, which was not surprising considering the restricted lives they had had. The Princess Dowager had been so afraid that they would be contaminated by the wickedness of the Court that she had kept them shut away until she could do so no longer. When they had been allowed to mingle with the world it was only natural that they, lacking their elder brother's purpose and position and his innate respectability, had turned to somewhat riotous living.

George could do nothing to restrain them, but he could find a husband for Caroline Matilda. His little sister the youngest of the family was fourteen years old. She should not be allowed to grow old and sour like poor Augusta. Fourteen was not really old enough for marriage, but opportunities must be seized when they came. He knew full well how difficult it was to provide Protestant matches for his family, and nothing but a Protestant match would do. The opportunity came when the King learned that Frederick V of Denmark was seeking a bride for Prince Christian, heir to the throne of Denmark and the son of his first marriage.

A crown for Caroline Matilda! The Dowager Princess was excited. "It is a very good offer, George," she said.

"We could not hope for better. I think they should be betrothed without delay.”

And what did Caroline Matilda say? George asked her, although whatever she said she would be obliged to accept the match.

Caroline Matilda in fact was delighted. She had forgotten Augusta's departure almost a year ago; and when she did later remember she told herself that all husbands were not like that horrid Prince of Brunswick. Christian of Denmark would be different. She saw him, tall, blond and handsome; and when his father died he would be king not merely ruler of a little German principality, but king of a great country like Denmark. Caroline Matilda was excited by the prospect.

On 10 January 1765 her betrothal was announced. She immediately became a more important person, a princess who one day would be a queen. And there was nothing to worry about; it was only a betrothal; she was fourteen years old. They would wait at least until she was fifteen. She went to see Charlotte and play with the babies. She was becoming very interested in married life.

She herself hoped to have babies, many of them. But chiefly she saw herself in her royal robes, a crown on her flaxen hair.

The new year had come in happily for Charlotte for with it came the certainty that she was pregnant. During the last year her English had improved greatly, and she spoke it now more or less fluently, but of course with a German accent. That was inevitable. But how much easier it made life! She was pleased that George was breaking away from his mother's influence, too; she was always hoping that he would share confidences with her; in fact during the last year when she had not been pregnant they had grown closer; it seemed that when Charlotte was not preoccupied by the prospect of bearing a child she could share a closer intimacy with her husband.

In a quiet and comfortable way she had a great affection for him and she was sure he had for her.

The knowledge that he had greatly desired to marry Sarah Lennox and that he had given her up out of a sense of duty was not exactly comforting, particularly as she was obliged now and then to see Lady Sarah, who was an undoubted beauty, and although married to Sir Charles Bunbury, had many admirers. Sir Charles she had heard was more interested in racing than his wife, and Sarah was very fond of her cousin Lord William Gordon and was constantly seen in his company. Such Court gossip did not interest her although her women chattered about it constantly. The only matter that concerned her was that there was no mention of the King's having an attachment for Lady Sarah.

She did occasionally hear a whisper about a Quaker girl in whom George had once been interested, and oddly enough she could not shrug that aside as easily as she could the affair with Sarah Lennox. For one thing it was more secret, and that in itself suggested it was more to be feared. Everyone knew of the attachment for Sarah and many had remarked that the King scarcely looked at Sarah on the occasions when it was necessary for them to meet. They talked of the King's virtue and respectability. How many kings who had all the opportunities in the World, had resisted temptations and remained faithful to their wives? It was difficult to recall one. Even sour old William of Orange had had his mistress. And it was not as though George was blessed with such a beautiful fascinating wife either.

Charlotte sighed. George was a good man and a good husband and she was lucky and once again ... pregnant. There would be a little gap between the birth of Fred and this child. It was what she had needed; the time between her darling firstborn and his little brother had been too short.

Now young George, already a little autocrat of the nursery, but so beautiful, and so bright, would be three years old by the time the new baby appeared and little Fred would be two.

Oh, she was fortunate indeed. But she wished that the King's health would improve. He was young to have these vague ailments which seemed to upset him so. In a man of fifty or even forty they would have been understandable; but George was not yet thirty. It was the worries of state.

Dear George, he was too conscientious. But how pleased he was to hear that they might expect another child.