George III is often remembered less for his political achievements and more for his unfortunate nickname - “The Mad King.” A bit harsh, considering his ailment was more complex than simple madness. The poor man endured four major bouts of illness, each more miserable than the last, and his doctors, rather than offering relief, seemed determined to turn his suffering into a medical horror show. That's quite apart from the opportunism of his son (that'd be the Prince of Wales, next in line to the throne).
When the King lost his marbles
The first known episode of George’s illness struck in 1765, but documentation is scarce -perhaps because no one wanted to admit that the reigning monarch was behaving a little…off. By 1788, however, things were far too dramatic to ignore. His Majesty was plagued by an ever-growing list of symptoms: fever, vomiting, swollen limbs, excruciating joint pain, and an alarming tendency to talk until he foamed at the mouth. He suffered violent spasms, a frightening rash (his daughter, Princess Elizabeth, likened it to being whipped by cords), and developed an affinity for excessively long and inappropriate monologues.
Worst of all, his condition made him erratic. Once known for his kindness, he began lashing out. One infamous evening, during a particularly tense dinner, he berated the Prince of Wales in front of Queen Charlotte and the Princesses before quite literally throwing his son to the floor. This was the final straw - off to Kew Palace he went for “treatment.”
Kew Palace
In late 1788, George III was relocated to the White House next to Kew Palace, where his doctors embarked on a rigorous campaign to not cure him. Led by Sir George Baker and his merry band of misguided medics, the King was subjected to all manner of horrors that passed for medicine at the time. They made him vomit profusely (because why not?), applied caustic powders to his legs to raise agonising blisters (for reasons best known to themselves), and even tried cupping, where heated glass cups were suctioned to his skin. Unsurprisingly, none of this worked. (Mind you, I've tried cupping. Quite liked it.)
Worsening symptoms
One of his attendants, Robert Fulke Greville, grimly reported that "Since his Majesty has been at Kew the unfavourable symptoms of his disorder have increased rather than diminished."
Translation: “We have no idea what we’re doing, and things are getting worse.”
By now, the King had become even more unpredictable. He alternated between deep melancholy and wild eccentricity. One moment, he demanded to be wheeled around his chambers like a child; the next, he was gleefully tossing pages’ wigs into the fire.
The doctors, overwhelmed by his antics and likely their own incompetence, began squabbling among themselves. In desperation, they called for Dr. Francis Willis, a man who had built his career on treating the mentally ill - by force.
The “Moral Method” (aka Torture)
Dr. Willis and his sons arrived on December 5, bringing with them a philosophy known as the “Moral Method.” This involved breaking the King’s spirit through a strict regimen of punishments and rewards.
If George misbehaved, he was strapped into a straitjacket or bound to his bed. If he showed signs of acceptable behaviour, he was granted small mercies - access to books, or a rare visit from his family. One of the more grimly ironic punishments involved a chair with restraints, which George bitterly referred to as his “throne.”
By February 1789, the King’s condition miraculously seemed to improve, and an official report declared him recovered. Whether it was Willis’s questionable methods - or not - is anyone’s guess.
So, what was wrong with him?
George III’s illness returned in 1801 and 1804, and finally in 1810, following the death of his beloved daughter Amelia. He never recovered from his bout in 1810. He was moved into permanent seclusion at Windsor Castle, where he spent his final years speaking to his deceased children and weeping for hours on end.
For centuries, historians and doctors have speculated about the cause of his suffering. Theories have ranged from porphyria (a genetic disorder) to arsenic poisoning and, more recently, bipolar disorder. However, the truth remains elusive.
Complicating matters further was the political situation. The Prince of Wales - never one to miss an opportunity for self-advancement - installed his own doctor, who conveniently wrote the most pessimistic reports possible. After all, if the King was deemed permanently incapacitated, the Prince could declare himself Regent and rule in his father’s place. He was, like many close to power but not yet ready for it, a bit of a dick.
The past is prologue
George III’s suffering was immense, not just physically but emotionally. The so-called “Mad King” endured humiliating and terrifying treatments, while his wife and daughters spent sleepless nights at Kew, dreading each day’s news. Meanwhile, his ambitious son schemed for power.
His story is far more than the tale of a deranged monarch. It is a tragic and complicated saga of misdiagnosed illness, political intrigue, and 18th-century medicine at its most absurd. In the end, George III was not just a man battling madness - he was a man battling an era that had no idea how to help him. There are far too many of us today who can relate to this - don't you think?
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