(2 of 4)
All the world knew of the birth that came to Glamis three days later. A little before 9 p. m., in a driving hurricane that . howled over the Scotch hills and sent the rain to beat a devil's tattoo on Scotch windowpanes, a pair of roaring motors splashed through the village of Forfar carrying John Robert Clynes, Home Secretary of His Majesty's Government, from Airlie Castle 20 miles away to Glamis. Forfar housewives were quick to grasp the significance. They knew that by tradition and law an officer of the Crown must be present at the birth of a possible heir to the Throne.*
An hour later a telephone jangled far to the south in comfortable Sandringham House, Norfolk. George V and Queen Mary who were sitting up after dinner waiting for news, heard the excited stuttering voice of their son the Duke of York informing them that they had a new grandchild, a 7-1b. girl.
Back in Forfar, villagers and reporters were passing the evening in the town's only cinema when news of the birth was flashed on the screen. Instantly the cheering audience rushed to the rain-drenched streets. Wrote the New York Times correspondent:
"Not since King Robert II of Scotland bestowed a thanedom upon the Duchess of York's ancestor, Sir John Lyon, more than 550 years ago has there been such a stir here. Throughout the night squads of motorcycle despatch riders arrived at the gates bearing cablegrams of congratulation from all parts of the empire, while police and gamekeepers with rain streaming from their capes patrolled the low wall running for miles around the castle gates. Church bells were pealing throughout Forfarshire long after midnight, and the news passed from township to township by means of searchlights, a dozen or more of which could be seen at Glamis playing on the clouds."
Excited villagers attempted to light the huge bonfire which had been standing on Hunters' Hill, overlooking the castle, since the end of July. Though covered with a tarpaulin, the pyre had been fireproofed by three weeks of Scotch weather. Next afternoon the bonfire was rebuilt by foresters who had worked all morning felling fir trees, cutting gorse and furze bushes. Nearly 10,000 people came from as far away as Edinburgh and Aberdeen to watch it blaze up that night, to quench their thirsts with the hogsheads of free ale provided by the Earl of Strathmore. They danced strathspeys and reels to the squeal of a dozen bagpipes.
Home Secretary Clynes, who might have tripped it with the best of them (as a child he earned his keep as a professional clog dancer), smilingly told reporters what he had seen and done at Glamis the night before.
". . . Dr. Simson* entered the room. . . . He led the way along a narrow stone corridor to the Tapestry Room adjoining the Duchess' bedroom. There I found the family group including the Duke of York, the Earl and Countess of Strathmore, and Lady Rose Leveson Gower, sister of the Duchess, standing around a little cot. They made way for me and I went forward and peered into the cot. I saw the baby. She was lying wide awake. ... I congratulated the Duke, Earl and Countess on behalf of the nation and the Empire as a whole, then I left the room to attend to my official business of despatching the news to various people including the Lord Mayor of London who has the historic right to be the first person informed, outside of the royal family."
Almost as soon as the