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.”