A MOST EXTRAORDINARY EVENT.
We now approach some of the most extraordinary events of the Prince’s
life, those circumstances surrounding the birth of his first child.
There had been a great deal of speculation, which was very natural
under the circumstances, as to the probability of the Princess of Wales
bearing a child, and the Queen and the Princess Caroline are said to
have formed an opinion, for reasons unknown, that she never would. In
all probability the wish in this case was father to the thought, for
the coming of a lineal heir to the crown through the Prince of Wales,
was an event not desired by the King or Queen, who it was well known
desired the crown for the Duke of Cumberland, now a handsome boy of
sixteen.
It was therefore no doubt owing to this reason that neither the Prince
or Princess of Wales appeared to be in any hurry to publicly announce
this event. As a matter of fact the first formal intimation of it was
conveyed in the following letter from the Prince to his royal mother,
sent by Lord North, his Lord of the Bedchamber then in waiting.
De Kew ce 5 de juillet.
Madame,
Le Dr. Hollings et Mrs. Cannons vient de me dire qu’il n’y a plus
à douter de la grossesse de la Princesse d’abord que j’ai eu leur
autorité, je n’ai pas voulu manquer d’en faire part à votre Majesté,
et de la supplier d’en informer le Roi en même tems.
Je suis avec tout le respect possible, Madame,
De Votre Majesté
Le très humble et très obeissant fils et serviteur
FREDERICK.
Lord Hervey relates in his Memoirs that on the occasion of the next
visit of the Princess to the Court, she was subjected by the Queen to a
series of questions, perhaps quite natural under the circumstances. To
these questions she received from the Princess of Wales but one answer
throughout:--“I don’t know.”
Being at last wearied with this continual repetition of the same
response, she changed the subject. But in the light of other events
it is perfectly clear that the Princess had her answer prepared
beforehand, and was determined she would give the Queen as little
information on the subject as possible. There cannot be a doubt that
the Prince and Princess had made their minds up together on this point,
and that they had some very good reason for it.
What was that reason?
A study of the events that followed will probably disclose the answer.
The most circumstantial record of these events is undoubtedly that
given by Lord Hervey, though written with great bias, and his usual
endeavour to blacken the Prince’s character as much as possible.
There appears to have been a strong desire on the part of the King and
Queen that the Princess’s lying-in should take place at Hampton Court,
and an equally strong determination on the part of the Prince and
Princess that it should not. This intense desire of the King and Queen
that the young Princess should lie-in at Hampton Court seems to have
exceeded all bounds.
So much did the Queen work upon the feelings of the King and Sir Robert
Walpole--she seems to have been the Prime mover--that it was decided to
send a message to the Prince of Wales _commanding_ that the Princess
should lie-in at Hampton Court. They seem to have had some insane idea
that there would be a supposititious child, though why this should be
needed, in the case of a healthy young man and woman, never transpired.
The message, however, was never sent, according to Lord Hervey, though
some writers say it was. If it was not it was certainly owing to the
wisdom of Walpole.
“At her labour I will positively be,” remarked the Queen, “for she
cannot be brought to bed as quick as one can blow one’s nose, and I
will be sure it is her child.”
What was the reason of this absurd anxiety?
It is impossible to say with certainty what was passing in the minds
of these young people at this time; the girl wife of eighteen, and her
husband who, among all his many relatives, could not rely upon one as
a friend. There must, however, have been some very strong motive--a
feeling which they held in sympathy, to have caused them to have acted
as they did.
The Court in the meantime had removed from Richmond--the old palace
down by the river near Kew[44] to Hampton Court, and with it the Prince
and Princess of Wales with their household as usual. The Court had gone
on its usual humdrum way, one long summer’s day being, in its regular
routine of walks, drives, bowls and cards in the evening, as much like
another as possible, in the manner so bitterly complained of by Lady
Suffolk in her last days at Court.
Everything went on as usual, and the accouchement of the Princess was
looked upon by everyone as being a yet far off event.
So matters stood until Sunday, the 31st of July, 1737. This is the
account given by Lord Hervey of the amusements on the evening of that
day:
“The King played at commerce below stairs, the Queen above at
quadrille, the Princess Emily at her commerce table, and the Princess
Caroline and Lord Hervey at cribbage, just as usual, and separated all
at ten o’clock; and what is incredible to relate, went to bed all at
eleven, without hearing one single syllable of the Princess’s being
ill, or even of her not being in the house.”
So the whole household retired to rest and peace reigned over the
ancient mansion of Cardinal Wolsey. But not for long. At half-past one
a courier arrived at the Palace, and eventually succeeded in arousing
one of the Queen’s Women of the Bedchamber, a certain Mrs. Tichborne,
who forthwith, on hearing what the courier had to say, went straight
off to their Majesties’ sacred bedroom, and awakened them.
The Queen, on her entering the chamber, started up, and very naturally
enquired whether the house was on fire.
Mrs. Tichborne, having eased the Royal mind on this point, proceeded
to give the Queen, as best she could, information on a very delicate
subject. She said the Prince had sent to let their Majesties know the
Princess was in labour.
The suddenness of this communication produced the effect upon the Queen
which might have been expected.
“My God!” she cried, starting up, “my night gown, I’ll go to her this
moment.”
“Your night gown, Madam?” repeated Mrs. Tichborne, thinking it about
time she should know all, “and your coaches too; the Princess is at St.
James’s.”
“Are you mad,” interrupted the Queen, “or are you asleep, my good
Tichborne? You dream!”
Mrs. Tichborne, however, confirmed her first assertion, and an excited
little nightcap popped up from the King’s side of the bed, and there
came from beneath it a torrent of very guttural German, of which the
following is a translation:
“You see now, with all your wisdom, how they have outwitted you. This
is all your fault. _There is a false child which will be upon you_, and
how will you answer it to all your children? This has been fine care
and fine management for your son William--he is mightily obliged to
you. And for Ann I hope she will come over and scold you herself. I am
sure you deserve anything she can say to you.”
This allusion to the Princess Royal referred to an idea she had that
she might succeed to the throne of England if neither of her brothers
married. But the poor Queen was far too anxious and excited to pay
any attention to her wrathful little royal spouse; apparently during
most of the tirade she was getting into her clothes the best way she
could, with the assistance of Mrs. Tichborne. While dressing as fast
as possible, she ordered her coaches and sent messages to the Duke of
Grafton and Lord Hervey to go with her. For to St. James’s she was
going as fast as she could.
At half-past two, the great coaches containing the Queen, the two
eldest Princesses with their ladies, the Duke of Grafton, Lord Hervey
and Lord Essex, who was to be sent back with news to the King, rumbled
out of the gateway of Hampton Court Palace and drove off through the
summer night towards London.
* * * * *
An account is now desirable of what took place earlier in the evening
in the Princess’s apartments at Hampton Court.
It appears that the Princess of Wales, having decorously dined in
public--in presence of the household--that Sunday evening, was, on her
return to her own rooms, taken very ill; it soon became apparent that
the pains she was suffering from were those of labour.
Despite the strong endeavour of Lord Hervey in his account of this
affair to make it appear that the Prince was forcing his wife to go
in the state she was to St. James’s Palace, it must be distinctly
remembered that the Princess herself stated that the removal to St.
James’s Palace was made at her own request, and her reason for taking
this course will be shown later.
When it became apparent beyond all doubt that the Princess was enduring
the pains of labour, the Prince ordered a coach to be secretly got
ready; there is no doubt whatever that provision for this had been made
beforehand.
It appears that by the time the coach was ready the Princess was
suffering a good deal, and had to be supported by the Prince, a Mr.
Bloodworth, one of the Prince’s equerries, and by a Monsieur Desnoyer,
a dancing master above all people, who appears to have been a sort of
privileged person, allowed to roam free over the Palaces.
The whole proceeding was highly indelicate, and what followed more
so; Lady Archibald Hamilton, and Mr. Townshend, one of the Prince’s
Grooms-in-Waiting, are both said to have protested against the
proceeding, and to have done so very properly. But why were these young
people so anxious to get away from Hampton Court Palace, that their
child might be born elsewhere? It is perfectly plain that they had a
very strong motive indeed. What was that motive?
The poor young Princess seems to have been got down stairs and
into the waiting coach with the greatest difficulty, and was in
a terrible plight when she arrived there, as one might very well
expect, considering her age and the novelty of her condition. There
entered into the coach with her, Lady Archibald Hamilton and two
of her dressers, Mrs. Clavering and Mrs. Paine. Reid, the Prince’s
Valet-de-Chambre, who also appears to have been a surgeon, and a man
midwife, mounted upon the box, and Bloodworth the Equerry, and two or
three more mounted behind the coach.
After enjoining secrecy on all his household concerning his
removal--which injunction seems to have been faithfully heeded--the
Prince entered the coach and gave the order to drive at a gallop to
St. James’s Palace.
There must have been a pretty scene inside the coach, considering the
Princess’s state, and the condition of mind, under the circumstances,
of the three ladies in attendance. The Prince seems to have been in a
high state of excitement, and to have divided his time between trying
to comfort his young wife and using strong language.
About ten o’clock “this cargo,” as Lord Hervey elegantly describes it,
arrived at St. James’s Palace, where, of course, nothing whatever was
ready for the Princess’s accouchement. The only attendant there, and
that a very necessary one, was the midwife, and she appeared in a few
minutes, having evidently been warned beforehand. There were not even
sheets ready for the Princess, and it is said that the Prince and one
of the ladies aired two tablecloths, between which the Princess was put
to bed.
There should, of course, have been present at this, the birth of
a direct heir to the Crown, some of the Lords of the Council, but
Lord Wilmington, and Lord Godolphin, Privy Seal, somehow appeared
mysteriously upon the scene. It seems, however, that Lord Wilmington
had received a message from the Prince at his house at Chiswick, and
came at once. At a quarter before eleven, within three quarters of an
hour of her arrival, the Princess was delivered of what Lord Hervey
delicately describes as “a little rat of a girl, about the bigness of
a good large tooth-pick case.”
Mark the hearty welcome extended to this little stranger by the King
and Queen’s confidant!
It may be here mentioned that the “little rat” grew into an exceedingly
pretty girl, but with a peculiar gift of unintentionally upsetting
people, which was supposed to be a result of her mother’s trials at her
birth. She became Duchess of Brunswick, and died in 1813.
* * * * *
It was four o’clock before the Queen’s Party reached St. James’s
Palace, and then being told, in answer to an enquiry, that the Princess
was very well, concluded that nothing had happened. However, the
Queen, to whom this whole affair must have been a great trial--for
she was in very bad health--ascended the stairs to the Prince’s
apartments, and Lord Hervey considerately promised to get her a fire
and some chocolate in his own room. As she parted from him she made
this most extraordinary remark, which can be taken as a sample of the
unreasonable fear and hatred towards their son which had obsessed the
minds of the King and Queen.
“To be sure,” replied the Queen, referring to the chocolate and the
fire, “I shall not stay long; I shall be mightily obliged to you”; then
winked and added: “nor you need not fear my tasting anything in this
side of the house.”
The Prince received his mother and sisters in what is described by
Lord Hervey as his night gown and night cap, but what we should more
correctly describe as a dressing gown perhaps; he kissed the Queen’s
hand and cheek in German fashion, and then broke the news to her of the
birth of his daughter.
Then there appears to have ensued a passage of words between mother and
son as to why a messenger had not been sent to Hampton Court before to
acquaint the King and herself of the happy event, as she had not left
until more than three hours after the birth of the child.
To this the Prince replied that he _had_ sent a messenger as soon as
he could write the news, and this may very well have happened, as the
journey took the Queen an hour and a half, with no doubt four horses to
each coach.
The Queen went into the Princess’s bedchamber, and seems to have
greeted her kindly and congratulated her.
“Apparrement, Madame,” she observed, “vous avez horriblement souffert.”
“Point de tout,” answered the Princess; “ce n’est rien.” Then the
“little rat” was brought in by Lady Hamilton and duly kissed by the
royal grandmother:
“Le bon Dieu,” she remarked, piously, “vous benisse pauvre petite
creature! Vous voila arrivée dans un disagrèable monde!”
The little one had not then been dressed, and was wrapped up in a red
mantle.
The Prince appears to have excitedly but perfectly openly narrated to
his mother the circumstances of the journey, freely admitting that on
the previous Monday and Friday he had also carried the Princess to
London, thinking then that the event was imminent.
The birth having taken place he seems to have made no secret of their
desire that the accouchement of the Princess should take place in
London.
Lord Hervey, in his account, goes very fully into details, too much
so, perhaps, to suit modern ideas of delicacy, but the Prince made no
secret to his mother that at one time he thought that he should have
had to take his wife into some house on the road, so imminent did the
event seem.
To his long account the Queen answered not a word, but turned the
shafts of her wrath upon Lady Hamilton, who was standing by with the
baby.
“At the indiscretion of young fools who knew nothing of the dangers to
which this poor child and its mother were exposed, I am less surprised;
but for you, my Lady Archibald, who have had ten children, that with
your experience, and at your age, you should suffer these people to act
such a madness, I am astonished, and wonder how you could, for your own
sake as well as theirs, venture to be concerned in such an expedition.”
Lady Archibald made the Queen no answer to this address, which sounded
rather like a rebuke to one of her own dependents, which Lady Archibald
probably really was. The latter turned to the Prince and simply
remarked:
“You see, sir.”
Lord Hervey appears to have received an account of this interview
direct from the Queen and Princesses when they were partaking of the
chocolate he had had prepared for them in his room, and we may take it
that any conversation unfavourable to them was discreetly left out.
The Duke of Grafton, Lord Essex and Lord Hervey, were then admitted to
see the baby, and the Queen withdrew with this very considerate remark
to the Princess of Wales after embracing her:
“My good Princess, is there anything you want, anything you wish or
anything you would have me do? Here I am, you have but to speak and
ask, and whatever is in my power that you would have me do, I promise
you I will do it.”
The Prince accompanied her to the foot of the stairs where he parted
from his mother, who walked across the courtyard to Lord Hervey’s
lodgings. Arrived there she made the following characteristic and
elegant observation to the two Princesses and the Duke of Grafton, and
Lord Hervey who accompanied her:
“Well, upon my honour, I no more doubt this poor little bit of a thing
is the Princess’s child than I doubt of either of these two being mine;
though I own to you I had my doubts upon the road that there would be
some juggle, and if instead of this poor little ugly she-mouse there
had been a brave, large, fat, jolly boy, I should not have been cured
of my suspicions.”
And now comes the great question which has puzzled everybody from that
day to this, and to which only the feeblest and most unsatisfying
answers have been given.
Why did the Prince and Princess take all this trouble in removing from
Hampton Court in order that their child might be born in London?
That they had made their preparations beforehand in providing the nurse
who appeared at a few minutes’ notice cannot be doubted, and that, like
the careless young people that they were, they left out many of the
essentials--such as the sheets--is also evident. Why did they take all
this trouble?
Some historians state that it was simply a studied act of disobedience
to the King and Queen.
If that were so, then it was a most inconvenient mode of showing it,
and the same end might have been achieved at much less trouble to
themselves.
Others--and Lord Hervey amongst them--describe it as a pure act of
bravado and arrogance to show the Prince’s independence. If this were
the true reason then the Prince must have been an inhuman brute, and
we know from a great many instances of his kindness and undoubted
affection for his young wife, that he was _not_.
No, to venture an opinion of the real reason for this most
extraordinary proceeding, we must review a few simple facts. In the
first place the true position of the Prince of Wales with regard to his
parents and the rest of the Royal Family, must have been well known
to the Princess Augusta before she came to England at all. She knew
full well, in common with most continental Princesses, that the heir
to the throne of England was by no means a favourite with his parents
and that he was only brought over from Hanover because the English
people demanded it. He was not _wanted_ by the Royal Family, they
wanted the crown of England for the handsome second son, William Duke
of Cumberland, afterwards adorned with the additional title of “The
Butcher of Culloden.”
Frederick was not handsome though he had a charm of manner, chiefly
owing to his amiability and kind-heartedness which endeared him to the
people. William had none of these attributes, he was handsome, and
very like his mother--a glance at their portraits will show that--and
he also had an exceedingly cruel nature, which perhaps the people soon
found out.
Any doubt which may exist in a reader’s mind as to the preference of
King George the Second and his Queen for their second son, may be set
at rest by a glance at the following account of certain events which
took place in the reign of George the First:
“George I. in his enmity to George II. entertained some idea of
separating the sovereignty of England and Hanover (Coxe’s Walpole, p.
132) and we find from Lord Chancellor King’s _Diary_, under the date
of June, 1725, ‘a negotiation had been lately on foot in relation to
the two young Princes, Frederick and William. The Prince (George II.)
and his wife were for excluding Prince Frederick, but that after the
King and the Prince, he would be Elector of Hanover and Prince William,
King of Great Britain; but that the King said it would be unjust to do
it without Prince Frederick’s consent, who was now of an age to judge
for himself, and so the matter now stood.’ (Campbell’s Chancellors IV.
318). Sir Robert Walpole, who communicated this to the Chancellor,
added that he had told George I. that ‘if _he_ did not bring Prince
Frederick over in his lifetime, he would never set his foot on English
ground.’”[45]
This early enmity of his parents to Frederick, Lord Campbell cannot
explain.
So that it is quite clear that but for the intervention of his
grandfather, George the First (about the only disinterested friend he
ever had) Frederick would have been left to the tender mercies of his
father and mother who would very certainly have deprived him of his
birthright in favour of their handsome second boy. The Princess of
Wales’s reception in England had not been of that warm description to
convey to her the idea that her coming had been particularly desired.
It will be remembered that she remained at Gravesend for forty-eight
hours without any of the Royal Family coming near her at all except
Frederick. She very soon realized the state of affairs, and there is
something pitiable about the young girl of seventeen, casting herself
at the feet of George the Second and his wife as if to propitiate them,
in spite of their disinclination to receive her.
No, it was very soon made plain to the young Princess of Wales that her
husband was not wanted here at all, nay that he was hated for standing
in the way of his handsome brother, and that she, too, this despised
Prince’s wife, was not wanted either.
To a girl of her keen perception, for it was shown by her conduct on
her arrival that she was exceedingly intelligent, it cannot be for a
moment doubted that as those anxious moments of imminent motherhood
drew near she painfully realized too, that her baby was _not wanted
either_, to be another stumbling block in the way of the favourite son.
It is not at all an uncommon thing for young married people to have
this overstrung sense of anxiety for their coming little one, and to
conjure up in their minds fears for which, perhaps, there is no reason.
It cannot be said for a moment that the King and Queen had any designs
on the life of the coming grandchild, although it was a barbarous age,
when life was held much cheaper than it is now, and the life of a
little baby--especially a “little rat”--did not count for much. Even
King George himself used to say there were not half enough hangings,
and that if they came into his hands he would not spare them, although
God knows at that time men and women were strung up in rows outside the
gaols in numbers sufficient to satisfy the most bloodthirsty advocate
of capital punishment.
No, there cannot be a reasonable doubt that this night journey of the
Prince and Princess was undertaken in an unreasoning panic maybe, but
in an honest fear that the life of their coming little one was not safe
at Hampton Court Palace, and that at any risk to themselves they would
have the birth of the child take place in surroundings over which they
had entire control, even though, as it happened, the royal child should
be born between two tablecloths instead of sheets.
FOOTNOTES:
[44] Demolished in 1772.
[45] Footnote to page 216. Hervey’s Memoirs. Cunningham Edition.