The announcement of the unexpected pregnancy of Queen Mary, wife of King James II, caused a political crisis in 1687. James had been crowned despite his conversion to Roman Catholicism, with the expectation that his elder daughter Mary, brought up as a Protestant and married to William of Orange, would succeed him. Now there was a possibility of a Catholic male heir. Lord Clarendon writes in his diary:
“It is strange to see how the Queen’s great belly is everywhere ridiculed, as if scarce anybody believed it to be true. Good God help us!”
In March 1688, James’s younger daughter Princess Anne writes to her sister Mary:
“Nobody will be convinced it is her child, except it prove a daughter. For my part, I declare I shall not, except I see the child and she parted.”
Following the birth of the Prince of Wales that June, James fled to France as William of Orange arrived in England with an army. On Christmas Eve 1688, peers assembled at St James’s Palace to discuss the state of the nation. When Lord Clarendon suggests an investigation into the birth of the Prince, he is answered by Lord Wharton:
“My Lords, I did not expect, at this time of day, to hear anybody mention that child, who was called the Prince of Wales. Indeed I did not; and I hope we shall hear no more of him.”
The Act of Abjuration in 1702 imposes on all office-holders the following oath:
“I do believe in my conscience that the person pretended to be the Prince of Wales during the life of the late King James... hath not any right or title whatsoever to the Crown of this Realm.”
Relations between Frederick, Prince of Wales, and his father, George II, were poor. On the imminent birth of Frederick’s first child, he insisted that the baby be born in London and not at Hampton Court with his parents. On 31st July 1737, Lord Hervey describes the scene:
“On Sunday, the Princess was taken in the evening, after having dined in public that day with the King and Queen, so very ill, with all the symptoms of actual labour, that the Prince ordered a coach to be got ready that moment to carry her to London. Her pains came on so fast and strong that her waters broke before they could get her out of the house. However, in this condition, M. Dunoyer, the dancing master, lugging her downstairs and along the passages by one arm, and Mr Bloodworth, one of the Prince’s equerries, by the other, and the Prince in the rear, they, with much ado, got her into the coach... the Princess begging, for God’s sake, the Prince would let her stay in quiet where she was... But the Prince, with an obstinacy equal to his folly, and a folly equal to his barbarity, insisted on her going, crying, ‘Courage! Courage! Ah quelle sottise!’ and telling her, with the encouragement of a toothdrawer or the consolatory tenderness of an executioner, that it would be over in a minute. In this manner, after enjoining all his servants not to say one word what was the matter, for fear the news of the Princess’s circumstances should get to the other side of the house and their going should be prevented, he got her into the coach... and ordered the coachman to drive full gallop to London.
“Notwithstanding all the handkerchiefs that had been thrust one after another up Her Royal Highness’s petticoats in the coach, her clothes were in such a condition that when the coach stopped at St James’s Palace about ten the Prince ordered all the lights to be put out that people might not see the nasty oracular evidence of his folly and her distress. When they came to St James’s there was nothing prepared for her reception. The midwife came in a few minutes; napkins, warming-pan and all other necessary implements were sought by different emissaries in different houses in the neighbourhood. No sheets being to be come at, Her Royal Highness was put to bed between two tablecloths. At a quarter before eleven she was delivered of a little rat of a girl, about the bigness of a good large toothpick case.”
Charles Greville records in his diary the christening of the future Queen Victoria on 24th June 1819:
“The Duke of Kent gave the name of Alexandrina to his daughter in compliment to the Emperor of Russia. She was to have also had the name of Georgiana, but the Duke insisted upon Alexandrina being her first name. The Regent sent for Lieven [the Russian Ambassador in London] and made him a great many compliments on the Emperor’s being godfather, but informed him that the name of Georgiana could be second to no other in this country, and therefore she could not bear it at all.” [She was also given her mother’s name, Victoria, but for the first nine years of her life was known as “Drina.”]
Hugh Dalton, a Labour Cabinet minister, records in his diary the birth of Prince Charles on 14th November 1948:
“The bells rang, and a man going down the street outside our flat called, ‘It’s a boy.’ If this boy ever comes to the throne it will be a very different country and Commonwealth he’ll rule over.”
“It is strange to see how the Queen’s great belly is everywhere ridiculed, as if scarce anybody believed it to be true. Good God help us!”
In March 1688, James’s younger daughter Princess Anne writes to her sister Mary:
“Nobody will be convinced it is her child, except it prove a daughter. For my part, I declare I shall not, except I see the child and she parted.”
Following the birth of the Prince of Wales that June, James fled to France as William of Orange arrived in England with an army. On Christmas Eve 1688, peers assembled at St James’s Palace to discuss the state of the nation. When Lord Clarendon suggests an investigation into the birth of the Prince, he is answered by Lord Wharton:
“My Lords, I did not expect, at this time of day, to hear anybody mention that child, who was called the Prince of Wales. Indeed I did not; and I hope we shall hear no more of him.”
The Act of Abjuration in 1702 imposes on all office-holders the following oath:
“I do believe in my conscience that the person pretended to be the Prince of Wales during the life of the late King James... hath not any right or title whatsoever to the Crown of this Realm.”
Relations between Frederick, Prince of Wales, and his father, George II, were poor. On the imminent birth of Frederick’s first child, he insisted that the baby be born in London and not at Hampton Court with his parents. On 31st July 1737, Lord Hervey describes the scene:
“On Sunday, the Princess was taken in the evening, after having dined in public that day with the King and Queen, so very ill, with all the symptoms of actual labour, that the Prince ordered a coach to be got ready that moment to carry her to London. Her pains came on so fast and strong that her waters broke before they could get her out of the house. However, in this condition, M. Dunoyer, the dancing master, lugging her downstairs and along the passages by one arm, and Mr Bloodworth, one of the Prince’s equerries, by the other, and the Prince in the rear, they, with much ado, got her into the coach... the Princess begging, for God’s sake, the Prince would let her stay in quiet where she was... But the Prince, with an obstinacy equal to his folly, and a folly equal to his barbarity, insisted on her going, crying, ‘Courage! Courage! Ah quelle sottise!’ and telling her, with the encouragement of a toothdrawer or the consolatory tenderness of an executioner, that it would be over in a minute. In this manner, after enjoining all his servants not to say one word what was the matter, for fear the news of the Princess’s circumstances should get to the other side of the house and their going should be prevented, he got her into the coach... and ordered the coachman to drive full gallop to London.
“Notwithstanding all the handkerchiefs that had been thrust one after another up Her Royal Highness’s petticoats in the coach, her clothes were in such a condition that when the coach stopped at St James’s Palace about ten the Prince ordered all the lights to be put out that people might not see the nasty oracular evidence of his folly and her distress. When they came to St James’s there was nothing prepared for her reception. The midwife came in a few minutes; napkins, warming-pan and all other necessary implements were sought by different emissaries in different houses in the neighbourhood. No sheets being to be come at, Her Royal Highness was put to bed between two tablecloths. At a quarter before eleven she was delivered of a little rat of a girl, about the bigness of a good large toothpick case.”
Charles Greville records in his diary the christening of the future Queen Victoria on 24th June 1819:
“The Duke of Kent gave the name of Alexandrina to his daughter in compliment to the Emperor of Russia. She was to have also had the name of Georgiana, but the Duke insisted upon Alexandrina being her first name. The Regent sent for Lieven [the Russian Ambassador in London] and made him a great many compliments on the Emperor’s being godfather, but informed him that the name of Georgiana could be second to no other in this country, and therefore she could not bear it at all.” [She was also given her mother’s name, Victoria, but for the first nine years of her life was known as “Drina.”]
Hugh Dalton, a Labour Cabinet minister, records in his diary the birth of Prince Charles on 14th November 1948:
“The bells rang, and a man going down the street outside our flat called, ‘It’s a boy.’ If this boy ever comes to the throne it will be a very different country and Commonwealth he’ll rule over.”
