Now he trusted his dear wife’s judgment, as she knew well, and he would like to have her opinion of this little affair.
‘Show this letter to le gros homme,’ he finished, ‘for my dear Caroline, he is more experienced in these affairs than you are, and less prejudiced than I myself am in this one.’
Caroline summoned Walpole and showed him this letter. He laughed over it.
‘I think, Madam,’ he said, ‘that this is a step in the right direction. This could well be the beginning of the end.’
But although the King continued to write pages about the affair it soon became clear that his infatuation had not diminished in one small degree; and the fact that he was eager to believe in the innocence of Madame de Walmoden over the ladder affair showed how deeply he was involved with her.
Trouble was in the air. Caroline knew that the Prince was fermenting this. The story of the ladder had leaked out and was seized joyfully by the lampoon writers. The King had never been so unpopular, and this reflected on the government. All over the country there was unrest. In the West of England there were riots among farmers over the importation of corn; and the Spitalfields weavers declared they would no longer tolerate the Irish workers in their midst who were ready to work for a lower wage than they were. There was fighting among the English and Irish and the Queen ordered that soldiers be called out to quell this. The act enraged the Spitalfields workers who declared that more consideration was given to foreigners than the English since they had foreigners on the throne. They even forgot their own grievances to ask what the Germans were doing here and demanding that they be sent back to Hanover.
‘Long live James III, the true King of England!’ was a cry which was heard frequently in the streets that summer.
But it was the Prince of Wales who caused the Queen the most anxiety. Trouble was brewing there. His hatred of her had increased since his marriage and she knew it was due to the fact that she had been Regent while he had been passed over. It was alarming to contemplate that he hated her even more fiercely that he hated his father.
She found that she was wishing he was dead. How much less trouble there would be if he were! William would make such a fine Prince of Wales and in time King—and how happily they could dispense with Frederick!
He was teaching his wife to cause trouble, too, although one could not blame her. Poor little thing, she hadn’t a mind of her own.
She was obviously instructed to do the things she did, such as arriving late at church and as the only way she could reach her seat when she entered by the main door was by passing along the pew in which the Queen sat, this was very uncomfortable for the Queen, in view of her portly figure—uncomfortable and undignified; yet on every occasion the Princess did this.
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.