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.