He played with little George, his namesake. The child was excited by colourful Uncle George who had no objection to being climbed over and who answered the childish prattle of his nephew with an amused good temper.
‘The Prince loves children,’ said Dorothy to William. ‘He will be much happier when the child is born – not only because he so badly needs an heir, but because he will have a child of his own.’
A startling event occurred that November.
The King was on his way to open Parliament and the people lined the streets to see his carriage pass. It was not exactly a loyal crowd for many had gathered there to protest about conditions in the country and to remind the King that wages were too low, the price of bread too high. The King might be parsimonious in his household but he had the inevitable debts which had to be met through taxation. The Prince of Wales was notoriously extravagant. The amount of his debts which had been disclosed just before his marriage had shocked everyone deeply.
There was too much high living on one side; too much poverty on the other. The tragedy across the Channel was too close to be ignored. It was never far from the King’s mind and he could not help wondering how far it was from his people’s.
There were shouts of ‘Down with Kings’ as the King’s coach trundled along. He made no sign of having heard. He had never been lacking in courage and at the time of the Gordon Riots had appeared among the people in person and had himself taken the bold action which had quelled that mob violence. King George would always do his duty. His trouble was that he rarely knew what it was.
As the carriage passed an empty house a shot was fired. It missed the carriage but the King was aware of it.
He continued to sit upright, looking neither to the right nor the left.
‘Your Majesty,’ said his equerry who was riding with him in the coach, ‘do you think we should turn back?’
‘What for, eh?’ asked the King. ‘Because of a shot. Why, if my time has come then it has come. God disposes of all things and I trust Him to save my life. If he does not wish it to be saved then it will not be.’
His calm was an example to all and he went on to Parliament, performed the ceremony as though nothing had happened to disturb him and started on the journey back.
This was even more stormy. Stones were thrown at the royal carriage, one of which caught the King on the arm. A bullet whizzed past his ear and buried itself in the upholstery of the coach.
The King glanced at it.
‘A few inches nearer,’ he said, ‘and that would have been the end of George III.’
When he returned to St James’s, it was to find the Queen and her daughters in a state of agitation. News that the King had been shot had reached them and they had expected to see him carried home.
‘You see me unharmed,’ he said. ‘It was not God’s will that I should die yet.’
The Queen sent for William and when he arrived embraced him without much warmth. There was nothing unusual in that. The Queen had little affection for any of her children except the Prince of Wales; and although she insisted on spending a great deal of time in the company of her daughters it was because she liked to have them in constant attendance.
She was critical of William. William had to some measure escaped from the family. He was living a non-royal existence in that house of his at Petersham; and no one would guess that he was one of the King’s sons. He seemed to be perfectly content to live this life, hardly ever came to court unless summoned and behaved like a simple country gentleman.
It was due to that actress, thought the Queen – a connection which, as his mother and Queen of England, she deplored.
‘You have heard, William, that His Majesty suffered an unfortunate experience on his way back after opening Parliament?’
‘Yes. Everyone is talking about it. I trust His Majesty is not suffering from the shock.’
‘His Majesty will always do his duty and his duty in this case is to ignore the action of a maniac. I wish every member of the family were as conscious of his duty.’
‘Oh, I think we all are, Mamma, when the occasion arises.’
‘I am glad to hear you say so, for it could very well arise… for you!’
William looked uneasy.
‘Yes,’ she went on. ‘If your father had been killed by that bullet…’
‘God forbid!’ cried William.
‘Indeed yes. It could have been disastrous… and even now… in your father’s state of health…’
‘He is ill?’
‘Come, William, let us be frank within the family. Your father’s derangement six years ago gave us all great cause for anxiety. And you must know, as we all do, that he has never been the same since. It could happen again… and then…’
William was growing worried. It was a subject to which his mother had never referred before. There was some purpose behind this.
‘This child should soon be with us. If all goes well I shall be greatly relieved. If not…’
‘But surely, Mamma, all is well. I heard excellent reports of Caroline’s health.’
‘Child-bearing is always uncertain. I pray that Caroline will be delivered of a healthy boy… or girl. But if anything should go wrong…’
‘Please don’t mention it.’
‘You are a superstitious sailor! Don’t be foolish, William. We have to face facts. If something should go wrong, George will never live with her again. I can’t say I blame him. The creature is… impossible. Mad, I think. There cannot have been a Princess in the whole of Europe less suited to your brother. If he had listened to me… But it is too late now. He says he has done his painful duty. If this attempt fails there will never be another. And it would be heartless to expect it of him.’
‘Perhaps he will change his mind.’
The Queen’s burst of laughter was far from mirthful.
‘Frederick’s wife is barren and he won’t live with her. I wanted to remind you that you are the next in line. If Caroline fails, you will have to do your duty, William.’
‘I have other brothers…’
‘You are the next in seniority.’
‘I am sure one of the others…’
‘Why do you think you get a pension from the State, my son, if it is not for services which will be demanded of you? Your private life is a matter for scandal. Is there not one of you who can live decently?’
William flushed hotly. ‘I can assure you that I do that with my family.’
‘Your family! An actress who was never married but had children before you took up with her. Bastard children!’
‘Your Majesty, I must ask you to refrain from speaking of this lady in this way.’
‘Sentimental as well as superstitious. Very well, William. Be sentimental. Be superstitious – as long as you remember that if it is necessary you will be obliged to do your duty. That is really all I have to say to you.’
‘I should like to see my father before I leave.’
‘What? To ask him if it is necessary to pension off your mistress and seek a suitable bride?’
‘To ask after his health.’
‘He is not well enough to see you.’
‘I thought you said that he had suffered no ill effects from the shooting.’
‘My dear William, he is often unwell. These bouts appear at all times. I know my duty. And that is to preserve him from the anxiety the very sight of his sons sometimes arouses in him. No, William. You cannot see the King. But go away and think of what I have said. If Caroline fails to produce an heir to the throne you will have to consider your position very carefully.’