GREAT BRITAIN: First Son of a Son

In London one midnight last week two cars pulled up before the brightly lighted house at No. 3 Belgrave Square. Out stepped two famed obstetricians, one famed anesthetist. Inside they were met by King-Emperor George V’s youngest son George, Duke of Kent, Earl of St. Andrews, Baron Downpatrick, in a fine state of nerves. Upstairs they found Nurse Louise Roberts and Nurse Ethel Smith, a bucktoothed, grey-haired favorite of the Greek royal family who had just taken a “refresher course” at St. Christopher’s Nursery Training College. After eleven months of wedlock George’s Greece-born wife, Marina, was almost ready to be delivered of a child. On hand were her father, Prince Nicholas of Greece, her mother, a sister. To represent the father’s family there was only Husband George. Sometime past midnight Home Secretary Sir John Simon arrived, to do his official duty as watchman for the cautious British Government.

A custom founded in the robust, treacherous days of the Stuarts required a King’s minister to stand guard in the anteroom at royal births to make absolutely certain no foundling was palmed off on the English people (TIME, Sept. 1, 1930). Last week Sir John stayed downstairs, the doctors and nurses being considered witnesses enough to the authenticity of Marina’s child. At 2:05 a.m. a boy was born. The doctors took ten minutes to make sure it was hale and unblemished. Then they drew up their bulletin:

“Her Royal Highness was safely delivered of a son this morning. The condition of Her Royal Highness and of the infant prince is satisfactory. (Signed) W. Gilliatt, M.D., M.F., F.C.O.G.; A. E. Gow, M.D., F.R., C.P.; H. A. Richards, M.R.C.S., L.R. C.P.” Sir John ratified the truth of this statement and the British royal house officially had one more heir.

The Home Secretary telephoned the news to the King at Sandringham Hall. His Majesty awoke the rest of the House of Windsor and for a while they all stood about in dressing gowns. Back in London, when the guns in the Tower of London boomed out, a knot of stay-ups formed in front of No. 3 Belgrave Square, sent up a considerately small cheer. Sir John, his duty done, had already gone home to bed.

Next day constables cautioned Belgrave Square traffic to go slowly and quietly. Carpenters coming to work on a building two doors away beamed: ”Lor’ love you, we’ll put cotton wool on our hammers if the Duke wants us to.” In the sun on No. 3’s front stoop a big black cat leisurely washed itself. It was raining when Edward of Wales arrived to pay his respects to his latest nephew.

Britain’s new prince has a very thin chance of ever becoming King-Emperor. Now seventh in line of succession to the throne, he will drop further behind as his uncles and young cousins propagate. His prime distinction is that he is the first son of a son of King George V.