Death at Dawn - Caro Peacock [117]
She paused, eyes on Daniel, as if to make sure he was following her.
‘You must have been nervous,’ he said.
‘Oh, I was at first. Would you believe, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Lord Chancellor of England and a lot of other gentlemen from the government were waiting in another room. We knew the baby might be king or queen one day, you see, so they all had to be there in the house. We didn’t see them, but we knew they were there. I was nearly fainting from nervousness, but my aunt was quite sharp with me, said a birth was a birth no matter who and my business was to do what I was told and not be a silly girl. I was mostly in a closet to the side of her bedroom, with a fire for heating the water. My aunt would call me when they needed anything. Of course, I could hear everything that was going on. She had a hard time, poor lady. She was in labour from the Monday night until late on the Wednesday evening. I knew from the sounds that the baby was coming at last and my aunt called to me to bring warm towels. When I went in, one of the doctors was holding him. He and my aunt wrapped him in the warm towels, but it was no use, no use at all. A fine-looking big boy he was, but blue in the face and dead.’
Even twenty years on, she looked as shocked and grieved as if it had happened yesterday.
‘And the poor princess died too,’ I said softly.
‘Not at once. We thought we were going to save her. She sat up and I was sent down to the kitchen for chicken broth and barley water and she drank some. But then, a few hours later, she died too. Poor Sir Richard was so grieved he shot himself a few months later. But it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t anybody’s fault. The poor infant suffocated from her being too long in labour. To the highest and lowest it can happen, and it happened to her, poor lady, that’s all. And then years later the wicked rumours started. You know what they were, don’t you?’
Daniel said sadly, ‘That she and the baby were both poisoned by people at court who didn’t want to see a child or grandchild of Queen Caroline on the throne.’
‘Wicked, wicked rumours. The poor baby was born stone dead and, as for the princess, I carried the broth and the barley water from the kitchen in my own hands and nobody came near them. My aunt and I were angry and scared too, though nobody thought to ask us anything. Anyway, the rumours died down and we thought that was an end of it – until that devil walked into my room in Paris.’
‘Did he talk about the poisoning rumour?’ Daniel asked.
‘Yes, and worse. He said the princess had been poisoned but the baby hadn’t. He said it had been taken away secretly by loyal people who knew its life was in danger from the princess’s enemies at court and it was all a lie that it had died.’
‘What did you say to that?’
‘I spoke up and told him that it was nonsense. I’d seen the poor baby dead. One of the doctors even had to take it downstairs and show it to the Archbishop of Canterbury and the other gentlemen, because that’s the law with royalty. “Are you saying that the Archbishop of Canterbury’s a liar?” I said to him. And he said, in that nasty sneering voice, “I’ve no doubt at all that the Archbishop saw a dead male baby, but I’m sure dead babies are easy enough to come by when you’re in the midwife’s trade.” God help me, I wanted to hit him in the fat, greasy chops.’
Under Daniel’s influence, some of her spirit was coming back.
‘So what did you do?’ Daniel asked.
‘I said he should take me back to London, that you couldn’t lock people up just like that. He laughed and said it was different in France and I’d have to stay until tomorrow because there were some gentlemen he wanted me to see. So he went away and a servant came up with a tray