Frederick, however, removed to London, but left his suite in the country, so that he could not be accused of setting up a rival court, and of thus acting in direct disobedience to his father's commands. He charmed the public by sending five hundred pounds to the Lord Mayor for the purpose of releasing poor freemen of the city. To be sure he was deeply involved in debt as usual, and his creditors would have preferred to get the money themselves; nevertheless, his act was a liberal one, and formed a strong contrast to his father, who spent large sums in Germany, much to the disgust of his English subjects.
On the eighth of December the king left Hanover to return to England, and arrived at Helvoetsluys, the seaport, on the eleventh of the same month. His daughter, Anne, was dangerously ill at the Hague; but he did not take time even to inquire how she was, so impatient did he feel to get back to his Caroline. Everybody in London was on the lookout for their sovereign, for it was known that he had reached the-Holland coast, and as the weather was fine it was expected that he would be among them in a few days. But the wind changed, a violent storm ensued, and such a terrific hurricane blew from the west that fears were entertained for the king's safety. People began to bet on the time of his sailing, and the probabilities of his having gone to the bottom of the ocean. Day succeeded day; still no news; the excitement increased. Walpole began to discuss the situation of the royal family, and to consider what sort of a ruler the Prince of Wales would make,—how he would treat his mother, sisters, and brother, who would rule him, and whom he would bully. Lord Hervey had a private conversation with the queen on the subject, and assured her that she would be able to govern her son as easily as she had her husband; but she could not be induced to believe that, called Frederick a fool, and wondered at his popularity, which seemed perfectly incomprehensible to her. Hour after hour reports came of losses at sea; the Harwich guns had been heard at a distance, and they were regarded as signals of distress from the royal fleet. The queen would not believe that the king was drowned, though Frederick had informed her that little doubt remained, and began to assume lordly airs as he grew more and more convinced of his own advancement. But all his high hopes were dashed to the ground when a courier arrived, having risked his life to bring the news to England that King George had not sailed when he expected, and was still at Helvoetsluys awaiting favorable winds and weather.
At last favorable weather did come, and the royal fleet set sail, but it was overtaken by a storm far more severe than the one that had detained it before. This time Queen Caroline was excessively anxious, for she saw there was real cause for alarm. The ships that had comprised the royal fleet were dashed ashore at various points along the coast, some of them totally wrecked, and it was reported that the last seen of the vessel which bore the king was when she was tacking, and it was hoped that his majesty might have got safely back to Helvoetsluys, though there were strong doubts.
Christmas-day came around, and still no king. St. James's palace presented a most gloomy appearance. The queen and her attendants played cards in the evening, and every one tried to appear cheerful and hopeful, but their thoughts were far away, and all were prepared for the worst. The next day, being Sunday, Caroline attended chapel, resolved to keep up her courage until she was positive that her husband had perished. In the midst of the service a letter was handed to her from the king, which she opened at once. Considering the anxiety she had endured she is to be excused for that, for she afterwards declared that her heart had been heavier that day than ever before. His majesty wrote that he had set sail, but the fleet had been scattered, and his ship driven back to Holland after knocking about for nearly twenty hours. He added that the commander, Sir Charles Wager, was entirely to blame, for he had hurried him aboard with the assurance that wind and tide were both favorable.
This statement was entirely false, for it was George himself who had insisted on setting sail, and he had even declared that if Sir Charles refused he would go over in a packet-boat, adding, "Be the weather what it may, I am not afraid."
"I am," was the seaman's reply. "But I want to see a storm," said the king, "and would sooner be twelve hours in one than be shut up for twenty-four hours more at this place."
"Twelve hours in a storm!" cried
