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. CHAPTER XIX. WHICH CONTAINS A GREAT DEAL OF FUSSING AND FUMING AND A LITTLE POETRY.