‘A lot of fools playing childish silly games with a lot of silly waxworks ... and books. Books!’ He spat out the word as though it described objects of the utmost contempt. The Queen went on knotting quickly. There were tears in her eyes, which was unusual, but she felt tired and ill and the pain was nagging and she thought: I’m so tired of this. Let him go back to Hanover ... anywhere, but out of my life.

The King saw her lowered head and construed this as indifference, so he went on : ‘And giving money to servants when you visit. What silly, childish games!’

The Queen murmured quietly but defiantly that it had always been the custom to reward servants when one visited their employers’ houses. ‘Is that not so, my lord?’ she asked Lord Hervey.

‘It is true, Your Majesty,’ said Lord Hervey. ‘It has always been the custom for the King or the Queen to distribute such largesse. It is expected and would be noticed with great disfavour if it were not done.’

‘Then the Queen should stay at home as I do. You don’t see me running into every puppy’s house to see his chairs and stools. I stay at home. Nor is it for you, Madam, to be running your nose everywhere and trotting about the town to every fellow that will give you some bread and butter, like an old girl that loves to go abroad no matter whether it be proper or not.’

Continuing to knot, the Queen made no answer, but her fingers faltered and the thread became tangled and her efforts to untangle it were fruitless. She held it nearer the candle and in doing so snuffed out one of them.

‘Why must you be so awkward?’ demanded the King. ‘Why can’t you sit quietly as I do. Why must you always be doing that silly, childish stuff....’

He rose suddenly and stumped out of the room. It was ten minutes before his usual time to retire. A bad sign when he began breaking habits.

Caroline knew where he had gone.

It was to his own apartments to write a long sixty-page letter to Madame de Walmoden, telling how he longed to be in Hanover and that he would soon be there in spite of them all.

‘Sir,’ said Walpole, ‘you cannot go to Hanover until after the marriage of the Prince of Wales.’

‘Well, where is this bride of his? Why is her coming postponed?’

‘In a matter of this sort negotiations always take a little time, Your Majesty.’

‘A little time! I tell you I have made up my mind to go to Hanover in May and nothing ... nothing is going to stop me.’

‘But the Prince of Wales’s marriage, sir ...’

‘I don’t care about the Prince of Wales’s marriage. He can go without a marriage. He can have a marriage without me. But I am going to Hanover in May. And you may try to stop me, but you won’t succeed.’

Walpole saw that the King was a man bemused. There was no point in delaying tactics. In fact they must be hurried on, for clearly the King would become more unpopular than ever if he could not attend his son’s marriage because he had gone off to visit his mistress.

On the 25th of April, the Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha arrived at Greenwich. She was seventeen, very shy, and could not speak a word of English.

The royal family behaved towards her as it had to the Prince of Orange and ignored her coming. The Prince of Wales, however, went to Greenwich to meet her.

When she saw Frederick she was delighted for he exerted all his charm. He was very pleased, first because he had wanted a wife for so long and secondly because she was so young and clearly in awe of him. It was so rarely that anyone was in awe of Frederick that he appreciated this very much.

The young girl had stayed the night in Greenwich Palace and here she first saw Frederick.

He took her hands and kissed her warmly. His German was fluent and she told him that she was delighted because she was a little frightened to be among all these foreigners; but Frederick did not seem like a foreigner : when he spoke he seemed as German as she was.

Frederick said he would teach her to be English and she need have no fear of anything while he was there to protect her.

Her eyes were wide with admiration and it was very clear to all the observers that the young couple were pleased with each other.

He was not tall, but his expression was charming and he only looked sullen when he was not smiling, and he had many smiles for her; his eyes were a startling blue and his complexion fresh. She thought him very handsome although he was smaller than she was.

She had the charm of youth, and although she was tall and slender she moved rather awkwardly, never having been taught deportment, but this gaucherie pleased Frederick. He did not want a poised and too beautiful young bride.

That was a very happy meeting and Frederick told her that the royal coach would take them to Lambeth and then they would sail down to Whitehall by barge which would give her an opportunity of seeing the city of London.

She clasped her hands and said that she thought what she had seen of England was wonderful, so different from everything at home. All the people were so sumptuously dressed, and she was going to enjoy so much learning to know England and to understand the English, but just at first she was a little frightened.

There was nothing to fear, said Frederick. She would have the Prince of Wales to protect her.

The King was waiting in the drawing room at St James’s Palace to greet his prospective daughter-in-law.

He was slightly mollified because it was only April and she was here and he would be able to leave for Hanover without upsetting people by not staying for his son’s wedding.

The Queen stood beside him—a little drawn though smiling perhaps too affably, too joyously. Lord Hervey was close to her and so was Lady Sundon, both watchful, both guessing how weary the Queen was, and Lady Sundon knowing of the pain and its cause.

The King’s good temper was rapidly disappearing, because the Prince and Princess were late.

He looked at his watch. They should have been here half an hour ago!

He said: ‘The King and the Court have been waiting for half an hour and still the Prince has not brought his bride.’

‘The river is crowded today, Your Majesty,’ volunteered the Duke of Grafton. ‘No doubt their barge is being impeded.’

‘Time is time, Grafton, craft or no craft, and I do not like impudent puppies who keep me waiting.’

It seemed as though the bride would be greeted with scowls and reproaches as the time went on, and still the couple did not arrive.

Each minute increased the King’s anger, and when news was brought that the barge had reached Whitehall and the Princess was being carried across St James’s Park in a Sedan, he was almost on the point of retiring to his own apartments.

They could hear the cheers of the people as the Prince and his bride in their Sedans came nearer. The King remained grimly silent; and he did not speak until the Prince led in his bride.

It was not without grace that Frederick presented his shy bride to his parents.

And because she had the charm of youth and because she was so much in awe of him, the King’s anger disappeared.

Augusta dropped the deepest curtsey the King and Queen had ever seen and remained kneeling until George said in a soft and kindly voice : ‘You may rise, my dear. Let us look at you. Why, I think the Prince is most fortunate. Welcome to England, my dear.’

Augusta blushed and looked very pleased; so that in spite of the fact that she had arrived an hour late, this was forgotten and the first meeting was a success.

There was no point in waiting for the wedding. Indeed in the King’s opinion, there was every need that the ceremony should take place without delay, for once it was over he would start making preparations to leave for Hanover and no one was going to stop him.