"The fool! The idiot!" he shouted. "They have no sense ... these brothers of mine. They think of nothing ... nothing but the gratification of their senses. They don't look ahead. They forget they are royal and they allow themselves to be caught by adventuresses.”

Charlotte, hearing the news, because it spread rapidly through the Court, tried to comfort her husband.

"At least we set a good example," she reminded him.

He looked at her ... plain little Charlotte, the mother of his numerous progeny. He had had to accept her; while his brothers chose these fascinating sirens whose unsuitability meant they must be doubly desirable, because even his reckless brothers would not be trapped into marriage unless they were. The more he thought of them, the more his lips tightened, and the more angry he became.

"They shall not be received at Court," he said. Then he was sad, thinking of the old days.

"Gloucester was my favourite brother after Edward died. We were often together and when he was young he was so serious.”

Charlotte nodded. "But that was only because he could not be anything else.”

"He was a good religious boy ... and so was Edward ... when we were all together in the schoolroom.”

"But they lost their seriousness with their freedom.”

"A madness seemed to possess them," began George, and was silent suddenly. That word which his mother had always hated to hear on his lips! No, no ... he thought ... a wildness. He went on: "A reckless desire to find pleasure ... everywhere. It seems as though they thought they had so much to make up for. I can't understand my brothers. Why do they have to behave in this way?”

Charlotte could not say. Her expression was prim. She was becoming very like her husband.

"I shall not receive them," said George. "I shall not accept this marriage. It may have been entered into before the Marriage Act but I shall not accept it all the same. Why should I, eh? What?”

But a further letter came from Gloucester. His wife was expecting a child. He hoped this would influence the King to accept them. When George read this he threw it on to his table. His brothers were going to be forced to realize their responsibility. He had had to make sacrifices; so should they. His family had displeased him and he was disappointed in them all. He remembered how he had adored Lord Bute and how he had been the last one to understand the relationship between that nobleman and his mother.

No, he was not going to be duped any more. They would have to understand that he was the King and he made the decisions. And why should his brothers enjoy the pleasures of matrimony with these fascinating women while he the King had constantly to think of his duty?

He wrote to his brother that, after the birth of the child, he would have the marriage as well as the birth 'enquired into'. This enraged Gloucester who replied that he must have an immediate enquiry, and if the King would not agree with this he would take the case personally to the House of Lords.

What could George do? He was hemmed in by the rules and regulations of constitutional monarchy. His power was limited; laws could be passed without his will. It was possible for the Lords to declare the marriage valid without his consent. There was nothing to be done.

He gave way. He accepted Gloucester's marriage; but that did not mean Gloucester would be welcome at Court. He would not receive his brother; and Queen Charlotte declared that she had no intention of receiving the milliner's daughter.

Gloucester laughed at them, and with his wife set about indulging his favourite hobby: travel. So the Gloucesters travelled all over the Continent and the Cumberlands enjoyed life at home; and neither of them cared that they were not received at Court. The Court was dull in any case. What else could it be, presided over by George and Charlotte?

George spent more and more time with his family. His children enchanted him. The model farm, the games of cricket, the wandering through the country lanes that was the life for him. But he knew in his heart that he would not hold out against his brothers. He could not forget how close they had all been in the schoolroom. In due course he would receive them; he would be kind to their wives; because whatever they had done they were his brothers and he was a very sentimental man. Loss of sister, colony and statesman. Harassed by family trouble, George was no less troubled by affairs of state.

The situation between his government and the American Colonists was growing more and more tense. The East India Company was in difficulties and the Government was forced not only to subsidize it but to give it a monopoly to export tea to America.

Previously their Bohea tea had been brought to England where a duty of one shilling in the pound was levied on it. Although tea which entered the American Colonies was taxed, the tax was much lower than that in England, being only three pence instead of a shilling, which meant that the Colonists were getting their tea at half the price of the English.

This was not the issue at stake, which was that the Americans refused to be taxed or governed by the Mother Country. It violated their rights, they insisted, and there were members of the British Government who agreed with them, notably Chatham.

Disaster was threatening, but neither the King nor Lord North could see this; they lacked the vision to put themselves in the place of the colonists and were being dragged farther and farther into a disaster which was all the more to be deplored because it was unnecessary.

That the colonists were in a fighting mood was apparent when a party of young men, disguised as Mohawk Indians, boarded a vessel belonging to the East India Company and which was carrying a consignment of Bohea tea to the value of 18,000 pounds and tipped it into Boston harbour. It was a sign for disorder to break out throughout the American Colonies.

George and Lord North discussed the matter together and decided that a firm hand was needed.

There must be no conciliatory measures. Those of the past, they agreed, were responsible for what was happening now.

There was a storm of protest in the Government. Charles James Fox was using his considerable talents to oppose Lord North. Chatham, wrapped in flannel, arrived to make a protest in which he cried: "Let the Mother Country act like an affectionate parent towards a beloved child, pass an amnesty on their youthful errors, and clasp them once more in her arms.”

North raged against the feeble conduct of the Opposition and a great problem faced the Government: to give the Colony independence in the hope that it would remain loyal to the Crown, or to force it to remain subservient to the Mother Country by force of arms.

North and the King chose the second alternative, and it was decided to send Lieutenant General Thomas Gage to subdue the colonists. He told the King that the colonists would be lions if they were lambs, but that if they themselves were resolute the colonists would be very meek.

This misconception was not proved until too late, and George was soon writing to North: "The die is now cast and the Colonies must either submit or triumph. I do not wish to come to severer measures, but we must not retreat." The die was indeed cast; and George was about to commit that error of judgement which was to haunt him for the rest of his life.

Then there was a further tragedy.

In her exile at Celle, Caroline Matilda had settled down to a not uncomfortable existence. It was a relief to be free of the Danish Court and not to have to see Christian, that husband who disgusted her and had become almost a lunatic by now. All she regretted was the loss of her children and for them she did pine. News was, however, brought to her of them from time to time and she tried to make the best of life.

Remembering the old days when they had all practised amateur theatricals, she arranged for a theatre to be constructed in the castle; and this was done. There she gathered together a little band of actors and they performed plays in which Caroline Matilda took a prominent part. She would tell them of her childhood when her family had all enjoyed amateur theatricals and how Lord Bute, who had been almost like a father to them for she had never known her own, having been born after his death, had been so clever at stage-managing and acting, in fact everything concerned with the theatre.

She read a great deal and was visited often, by people who came from England. They brought her news from home which she welcomed. Her resignation ended when she received a visit one day from a young Englishman, a Mr. Wraxall, who was gay, handsome and in search of adventure.

It was pleasant to have such a charming and amusing young man at her Court and when he told Caroline Matilda that he believed there were many people in Denmark who would welcome her back, they put their heads together to try to work out a scheme to bring about her return.

Caroline Matilda was not certain that she wished to go; but she was only twenty-three and although she had put on a great deal of weight she was still attractive; she was so fair that her hair was almost white and her eyes, so like George's, were blue and sparkling. She was attracted to Mr.

Wraxall and his devotion gave her great pleasure, so she found herself drawn more and more into his schemes. They would sit together in the French garden within the castle grounds, and talk of the days when she would again mount the throne of Denmark.

"It will be wonderful," she told Mr. Wraxall, 'to see my children again. Little Frederick must miss me and Louisa ... she will not remember, but she will hear tales of me ... perhaps unpleasant tales.