I finally cracked the seven eggs that did not hatch under the white hen when she was sitting on so many.
I think I was afraid of them.
Every single one had a partially developed chick in it. Some more developed than others. A shame, but she lost so many because of having too many eggs to keep them all warm to fruition. For the ones that survived, it was the luck of the draw. Or the rotation.
It was not as gross as I thought. At least, there was no bad smell. All the chick fetuses were in a durable membranous bag that slipped out of the shells when I cracked them. In fact, they looked still sort of alive. Sleeping, in stasis.