North of the Tweed

What is this

That rises like the issue of a King,

And wears upon his baby-brow the round

And top of sovereignty?

MacBeth, Act IV, Scene 2.

Elizabeth, Duchess of York, who was Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon,* third and youngest daughter of the Earl & Countess of Strathmore and Kingshorne, lay in turreted Glamis castle last week, where according to tradition and Shakespeare, MacBeth did murder Duncan to become King of Scotland. All Britain held its breath. Proud, loyal Scots piled mountainous bonfires on Hunter's hill and neighboring heights which rise above the castle, made ready to send the news blazing over the mountain tops. Not in generations has a potential heir to the throne been born north of the Tweed. The British postoffice, guardian of Britain's telephones, prepared a special wire from Glamis castle to the Royal Yacht Squadron (not "club") at Cowes to carry first word to King George. That able obstetrician Sir Henry Simson and the Duchess of York's dour Scotch nurse were ready and waiting. Newsagencies round the world kept their ears cocked, cables ready. All these preparations were for a Boy. If the Duchess' widely-heralded child should be a second girl, that would be interesting family news but of little world importance.

Edward of Wales, heir to the throne, is, and would like to remain, a bachelor. Next in succession is the studious, slightly stuttering Duke of York, of whom Edward P. has often privately told his friends: "He would make a far better King than I." Third in succession at the present time is effervescent, curly-headed Princess Elizabeth, "Princess Lilybet," King George's favorite grandchild, now aged 4. Though Britain's two greatest rulers were women, politicians dislike queens. A Man-Child was sorely needed, much-longed-for last week.

To anxious Britons, expecting birth news from day to day, the child seemed long in coming. The Duchess of York's own 30th birthday, heralded by soothsayers as the probable moment, dawned uneventfully. Highly embarrassed, perspiring profusely, little John Robert Clynes who began life humbly in a workingman's cottage and is now Home Secretary of His Majesty's government, delayed his arrival at the castle almost as long as possible. Tradition demanded his presence in the anteroom of the Duchess' bedchamber at the moment of delivery to protect the public's rights, to see and certify that the baby, possible heir to the throne, really was the Duchess' own, not a changeling.

No one in Britain hoped that the baby would be a Boy more than Edward of Wales. Newsgatherers last week circulated the story of a family pledge made by Edward P. to his parents. If the expected child should be another girl, Edward of Wales, for the good of the state, would marry within the year.

*See front cover.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.