She had given orders that no one must enter by the main door if they arrived late which was a direct command to the Princess of Wales.

Frederick had retorted that his wife could not possibly enter by any door but the main one, so he ordered the poor child not to go to church at all if she could not be there before the Queen.

So distressing, so unnecessary; but a sad indication of the deterioration of the relationship between them.

What struck at the heart of the people more than anything else was the government’s attempt to stop the terrible effect gin drinking was having on the population. Gin was so cheap that it was available to the very poorest and it had become a habit to drink away miseries in the gin palaces which had sprung up all over the country.

One tavern in Southwark had attached a cynical but inviting notice on its door which was taken up by others and was a reminder to the public how cheap gin had become.

‘Drunk for a penny,

Dead drunk for twopence.

Clean straw for nothing.’

The prospect of being deprived of this ‘solace’ so enraged the people that they determined they would rebel against it; and the ballad-makers were busy turning out laments to the demise of Madam Gin while the taverns put out mourning signs. There was even a mock procession when the Gin Act was passed which paraded with torches through the streets of London and of course became very intoxicated ... on gin, rioted and caused a great deal of damage.

It soon became clear that nothing could stop the sale of gin and that the result of the Act was merely to set in motion a number of illegal methods of passing it to the consumer. It was sold over many a counter with a wink in bottles labelled ‘Ladies Delight’, ‘Take 2 or 3 spoonfuls 4 to 5 times a day as the fit takes you’, ‘Make Shift’, ‘Cuckold’s Comfort’—for whatever happened the English must have their jokes.

At the same time they were enraged at this attempt to stop what they called ‘the pleasures of the poor’ and they would talk about it in the taverns over their gin sold by another name and ask themselves why German George should be having his pleasure in Hanover while they were deprived of theirs in London.

The Spitalfields controversy was nothing compared with the anger of an enraged population deprived of its gin, and the government realized that action would have to be taken to modify the Act during the next session of Parliament.

All these troubles were blamed on the royal family and a rather ugly incident occurred one day when Caroline was riding by coach from St James’s to Kensington. Outside a tavern from which hung a huge sign ‘In Mourning for Mother Gin’ a crowd was standing and as the royal coach approached they recognized it. People stood across the road barring the way so that the coach was forced to stop.

The Queen put her head out of the window and asked what was wrong.

An ugly face was thrust close to hers while a pair of bleary drunken eyes glared at her. Fists were shaken.

‘You took our comfort away from us,’ they shouted. ‘You ride in your coaches but you take our comfort from us.

‘This is a matter for the Parliament,’ began the Queen.

But they shouted: ‘Where is the King? In Hanover with his whore. Is he allowed to drink gin there, think you?’

‘The King will not be drinking gin.’

‘No time,’ shouted someone. ‘Too busy with his whore.’

The cry was taken up and Caroline sat mortified, more disturbed because of the manner in which this scandal had seeped out, than the fact that she herself might be in danger.

‘No gin, no King!’ someone shouted.

It was an implication that if they were deprived of their gin the King could stay in Hanover forever.

‘Be patient,’ cried Caroline. ‘Next session you will have them back again.’

‘Which?’ shouted a voice close to her.

‘Both she answered.

‘You can keep George, but give us our gin.’

‘Next session,’ she answered, and the coachman seeing his chance whipped up the horses and they galloped on to Kensington. It had been an unpleasant experience.

But the internal family strife still remained her greatest anxiety. Even her daughter, Caroline, usually of a mild temper, was beginning to hate her brother. There was great enmity between Amelia and Frederick, because at one time Amelia had thought she might work with her brother. He had soon discovered she was no true friend to him and this had made them dislike each other more than the others did. William of course disliked Frederick with the great passion of a younger for an elder brother who knows that but for him he would be heir to the crown. It was hard for the ambitious young man William was becoming to take second place to a brother whom his parents Wished they had never had, and whom they all wished dead a hundred times a day.

‘Fred is our thorn in the flesh,’ said the Queen.

Breakfasts were very peaceful occasions now that the King could not descend on them and reprove them for taking too much chocolate. And oh, the comfort of a dish of chocolate! sighed the Queen.

Of course she was anxious about Amelia who was flirting openly with the Dukes of Grafton and Newcastle. She believed that affair with Grafton was quite serious and she was afraid to enquire too closely into it. Amelia was no longer a young girl; she was very much the eldest daughter now that Anne was in Holland, and determined to receive the homage due to her. She was very proud and haughty and this did not endear her to the public, nor to her immediate circle; and her preoccupation with hunting and animals made her appear rather masculine. Caroline was her comfort. Dear Caroline, who was so virtuous and truthful and could be relied upon; but even she was a cause for anxiety, for lately she had been complaining of rheumatic pains and the doctors could do little for them. Caroline was her comfort and William her pride. As for the two little girls they were young yet, but already showing signs of their personalities. Mary was meek, rather like Caroline, but Louisa the youngest was vivacious and impulsive, traits which might well have to be watched as time passed.

The peace of this breakfast was, however, shattered by Caroline of all people, when she announced that she really was most ashamed of her silly little sister-in-law.

‘Mamma, what do you think she does? She walks in Kensington Gardens with a page holding up her train! A train, Mamma, in the informality of the gardens! And that is not all. Two gentleman ushers and her chamberlain have to lead the way, and her maids of honour have to walk behind.’

‘But this is ... ridiculous. Why does she do it?’

‘Because, Mamma, the silly girl is not accustomed to being the Princess of Wales.’

‘Fred will have to learn how easily people can be laughed at in this country.’

‘Fred, Mamma, will never learn anything, I fear. He has put Lady Archibald Hamilton among her ladies and the poor little simpleton does not know why.’

‘Do not blame her for her simplicity, Caroline,’ said the Queen. ‘Remember she knows nothing but what Fred teaches her; and after all it is no bad thing to be a docile wife.’

‘Let her go on being a docile wife and doing what Fred tells her. That is the quickest way to upset the people.’

The Queen was thoughtful. ‘I wonder who allowed her to walk out in that way. Perhaps Lady Archibald Hamilton takes a pleasure in making a fool of her. Caroline, tell her that she should not walk in the gardens like a Queen at her coronation. Explain that it would be better if she walked informally as we all do.’