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LIVES
or THI
QUEENS OF ENGLAND,
Jprom tiif 2ôtman Conquest.
NOW FIRST PUBLISHED FROM
OFFICIAL RECORDS & OTHER AUTHENTIC DOCUMENTS, ^

PRIVATE AS WELL AS PUBLIC. •<'
lO
BY
AGNES STRICKLAND. t i'
" The treasures of antiquity, laid up

In old historic rolls, I opened."
Bkaumont.
A NEW EDITION, REVISED AND GREATLY AUGMENTED.

EMBBLLISHBD WITH
PORTRAITS OF EVERY QUEEN.

fa
IN EIGHT VOLUMES.
VOL. VII.
LONDON:
COLBURN & CO., PUBLISHERS,
13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1852.
! t 'll
xS
LONDON:
FBI.NTBD Br BABRIION AND ION,
ST. mabtin's LANB.
A
/••
I'
TO
HKR MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY,
OUR SOVEREIGN LADY QUEEN VICTORIA, n
THE LIVES
or
THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND,
ABE, BT GBACIOCB FEBHISBION,
Jinictibtttt
f !
WITH FEELINGS OF PBOFOUND BE8PECT AND LOTAL AFFECTION,
BT HEB majesty's FAITHFUL 8DBJE0T, '
AND DEVOTED SEBVANT,
AGNES STRICKLAND.
a 2
MAEY I
PORTRAIT O]
by permisi
Collection <
MARY IN HE]
AUTOGRAPH
MARY II. Vi
Original hr
CONTENTS
Of
ilf
THE SEVENTH VOLUME.
MAEY II., Queen-Eegnant of Geeat Bbitain and

Ibeland, Consoet 01" "William III.
ILLUSTRATIONS
vo
THE SEVENTH VOLUME.
PORTRAIT OF MARY, WHEN PRINCESS OF ORANGE, engraved

by pennission from the Original, by WissiNO, in Her Majesty's
Collection at Hampton Court Frontispiece,
(Described pagp 143.)
MARY IN HER INFANCY, HER FATHER, AND PEPYS. Vignette Title.

(Described page 4.)
AUTOGRAPH OF MARY, WHEN PRINCESS OP ORANGE page 116
MARY II. WHEN QUEEN OF GREAT BRITAIN, after the

Original by Vandebvaaet 191
(Described page 368.)
J«*«s5^
THE
QUEEN-
Love-match of
York, (queei
father, the
Maternal iiw
queen Hem
cesses at R
professes the
princesses IV!
and chaplain
in the Chun
of the print
mined —Hei
the birth o
infection —
continual g:
princess and
Cunterbury-
land —The
Pageants an
The persoi
English qu(
years occur
appears in
therein at
' For the -pv
Anne, whilst si
VOL. VII.
LIVES
OF
THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
MARY IV
QUEEN-REGNANT OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.
CHAPTER I.
— —
Love-match of queen Mary's parents Its unpopularity Birth of lady Mary of
York, (queen Mary II.) —Nursery at Twickenham-palace Fondness of her —
father, the duke of York —
Birth of lady Anne of York, (queen Anne)
Maternal indulgence —
111 health of the lady Anne —
Is sent to France Visits —
—
queen Henrietta Maria French court-mourning —
Education of the prin-
cesses at Richmond —Their mother dies a Roman-catholic Their father —
professes the same faith — Their atep-mother, Mary Beatrice of Modena The —
princesses Mary and Anne educated at Richmond-palace —
Preceptor, tutors,
— —
and chaplain Introduction of the princesses to court Confirmation of Mary
in the Church of England — —
Marriage projects for Mary Arrival in England
of the prince of Orange, (v'/illiam III.) —
As her suitor Marriage deter-—
— —
mined Her agony of mind Incidents of the marriage Disinherited by —
the birth of a brothei* —
Illness of lady Anne with the smallpox Fears of —
infection — Interview between the princess of Orange and Dr. Lake Her —
continual grief — —
Lady Anne's sick chamber Danger Departure of the —
princess and prince of Orange —
They land at Sheerness Adventures at —
Canterbury —Their first acquaintance with Dr. Tillotson —
Voyage to Hol-
land — —
The prince admires Elizabeth Villiera Reception in Holland
Pageants and rejoicings.
The personal life of Mary II. is the least known of all
English queens-regnant. Long lapses of from seven to ten

years occur between the three where her name
political crises
appears in the history of her era. only mentioned Mary is
therein at her marriage, her proclamation, and her death.

' For the purpose of preventing repetition, the events of the life of her sister
Airne, whilat she was princess, are iutervvoveii with this uiogruphy.
VOL. VII. B
I
2 MARY II.
Thanks, however, to the memorials of three J es of oiir

forward to heirs
church, being those of her tutor Dr. Lake, ,ind of her
rine of Braganj
chaplains Dr. Hooper, dean of Canterbury, and Dr. Ken,
of the young p
bishop of Bath and Wells|^ many interesting particulars of
of sons. She w
Mary II. before she left Englaj;^d, and of the first seven years
princess of Orai
of her married life in Holland, are really extant. These Scots, and was 1
clergymen were successively domesticated with Mary for years of England in th
in her youth, and chiefly from their evidence, and as far as
was her father's
possible in their v^ry words, have these portentous chasms
Rupert, her god
•
in her biography been supplied.

Buckingham. 5
Mary II. was the daughter of an EngUshmian and an James's to a nu
Englishwoman, OAving her existence to the romantic love- household of hen
match of James duke of York with her mother, Anne Hyde, at the ancient d
daughter of lord- chancellor Clarendon. The extraordinary Twickenham, a h
particulars of this marriage have been detailed in the biography
the crown.'^ In 1
of Mary's rt)yal grandmother, queen Henrietta Maria.^ The James fluke of C
K ^•father of Mary had made great sacrifices in keeping his her in her infan
plighted word to her mother. Besides the utter renunciation succession of the
of fortune and royal alliance, he displeased the lower and
The lady Mary
middle classes of England, who have a peculiar dislike to see was loved by the
persons raised much above their original station ; the prof-
which is often i
ligates of the court sneered exceedingly a^ the heir of three
Sometimes she w?
crowns paying the least regard to the anguish of a woman,
Twickenham to s
while politicians of every party beheld with scornful astonish-
duke of York cou
ment so unprincely a phenomenon as disinterested affection.
he transacted the
All this contempt the second son of Charles I. thought fit to
admiral. Once, a
brave, rather than break his trothplight with the woman his
years old, Pepys
heart had elected; neither could he endure the thought of
fondness for her,
bringing shame and sorrow on the grey hairs of a faitliful
notations, saying,
friend like Clarendon. '^ '
'
and with great' pi

The lady Mary of York, as she was called in early life, was hke an ordinary
j
born at St. James's-palace, April 30, 1662, at a time when period of her infa
public attention was much
occupied by the fetes and rejoicings of the lady Mary,
for the arrival of the bride of her uncle, king Charles II.
highest finish, rep
Although the duke of York was heir-presumptive to tlie
rabbit in her arm
throne of Great Britain, few persons attached any impor- ' Life of Mary II.:
tance to the existence of his daughter ; for the people looked Fleet-street, near Chatw
* Clarendon's L
* Geiienil sir Jomea
MARY II.
forward to heirs from the marriage of Charles II. with Catha-

rine of Braganza, and expected, moreover, that the claims
of the young princess would be soon superseded by those
of sons. She ^v^s named Mary î memory of her aunt the
princess of Orange, and of^ her ancestress, Mary queen of
Scots, and was baptized according to the rites of the church
of England in the chapel of St. James's-palace; her godfather
was her father's friend and kinsman, the celebrated prince
Rupert,' her godmothers were the duchesjês of Qrmonde and
Buckingham. Soon afterwards, she was taken from St.
James's to a nursery which was established for her in the
household of her illustrious grandfather, the earl of Clarendon,
at the ancient dowfer-palace of the queens of England at
Twickenham, a lease of which had been granted to him from

the crown.^ In the course of fifteen months, Mary's brother,
James fluke of Cambridge, was born, an event wiiich barred
her in her infancy from any very near proximity to the
succession of the crown.
The lady Mary was a beautiful and engaging child. She
was loved by the duke of York" with that absorbing passion
which is often felt by fathers for a first-born daughter.
Sometimes she was brought from her grandfather's house at
Twickenham to see her parents, and on these occasions the
duke of York could not spare her from his arms, even while
he transacted the naval afi'airs of his country as lord high-
admiral. Once, when the httle lady Mary was scarcely two
years old, Pepys was witness of the duke of York's paternal
fondness for her, which he commemorates by one of his odd
notations, saying, " I was on business with the duke of York,
and with great pleasure saw him play with his little girl just
like an ordinary private father of a child." ^ It was at this
period of her infant life that a beautiful pictui'e was painted
of the lady Mary, being a miniature in oils, on board, of the
highest finish, representing her at full length, holding a black
rabbit in her arms.'* The resemblance to her adult portraits
' Life of Mary II.1795.
: Published by Daniel Dring, of tlie Harrow,
Fleet-street, near Chancery-lane.
' Clarendon's Life. ' Pepys' Diary, vol. ii. p. 215, 8vo.
* Generai sir James Reynett, the governor of Jersey, obligingly permitted

B 2
;
*4 MARY II.
is strikingly As a work of art, this little painting

apparent.
is a gem of the by the Flemish painter, Nechschcr,
first water,
who was patronised by James duke of York, and painted
portraits of his infant children by his first consort, Anne
Hyde. Some idea may be formed of the design, as it is
introduced into the vignette of the present volume, which
illustrates the anecdote above so naively told by Pepys, of his
surprise at seeing the duke of York playing with his little
Mary "just like any other father."
Lady Mary of York, when but three years old, stood
sponsor for her younger sister, who was born Feb. 6, 166 1
the duchess of Monmouth was the other godmother: Shel-
don, archbishop of Canterbury, was godfather to the infant,
who received her mother's name. She was afterwards queen-
regnant of Great Britain. The father of these sisters was
at this epoch the idol of the British nation. After he had
returned from his first great victory off Lowestoff and Sole-
bay in 1665, he found that the awful pestilence called * the
great Plague ' had extended its ravages from the metropolis
to the nursery of his children at Twickenham, where several
of the servants of his father-in-law had recently expired.'
The duke hurried his wife and infants to the purer air of the
north, and fixed his residence at York. From that city he
found it was easy to visit the fleet, which was cruising off
the north-east coast to watch the proceedings of the Dutch.

The duchess of York and her children lived in great splen-
dour and happiness in the north, and remained there after
the duke was summoned by the king to the parliament,
which was forced to assemble that j'car at Oxford.
The health of the lady Anne of York was injured in her
infancy by the pernicious indulgence of her mother. The
only fault of the duchess was an inordinate love of eating,
and the same propensity developed itself in both her daugh-
ters. The duchess encouraged it in the little lady Anne,
I':!
who used to sup with her on chocolate, and devour good
the author to see this portrait at his residence, the Banquetiiig-Iiousc, Hampton-
Court, and has since, through the mediation of his accomplished sister, Miss
Reynett, allowed a drawing to he taken from it.
XiOru vîureiKLuu s uut;, Vui. ii.
/
• It
MARY II. .-' 5
things, till she grew as round as a ball.* Probably these

proceedings were unknown to the duke of York, who was
moderate, and even abstemious, at table.'' When the life
:|l
of the child was seriously in danger, she was sent to the
coast of France to recover it. It is generally asserted that
the little princess staid at Calais or Boulogne for about
eight months where she really went was kept a state secret,
; ''^
fatt^;
on account, probably, of the religious jealousy of the Eng-
lish. Anne herself, at six years old, must have remembered f i
the circumstance, yet it certainly never transpired in her

time, or even in the reminiscences of her most intimate ! i:
confidante. The fact is, Anne of York was consigned to the

care of her royal grandmother, Henrietta Maria. After the
death of that queen at Colombe, her little English grand-
daughter was transferred to St. Cloud, or the Palais-Royal,

and domesticated in the nursery of her aunt Henrietta
duchess of Orleans, for there she is found by the only per-
son who has ever noted her sojourn with her French kindred.
Thus queen Anne, once a familiar guest among the royal
family of France, had actually in her childhood played
about the knees of her great antagonist, Louis XIV.
Anne lost her other protectress, her father's sister, the ni
beautiful Henrietta duchess of Orleans, who had taken her

under her own care on the death of queen Henrietta.
Without entering here into the discussion of whether the
fair Henrietta was poisoned by her husband, it is reason-
able to conclude that, if such had been the case, he would

scarcely have had sufficient quietude of mind to have
amused himself with dressing up Anne of York and his own
httle daughters in the rigorous costume of court-mourning,
with long trains and the streaming crape veils, then indis-
pensable for French mourning, in which the bereft children
sailed about his apartments at the Palais-Royal. Their
ridiculous appearance excited the spleen of la grande made- Kt : i
moiselle de Montpensier, who details the visit Anne of York

made to France, and the conversation which ensued between
> Duchess of Marlborough's Conduct.
* Roger Coke's Detection.
6 MARY II.
her and Louis XIV. " The day after Louis XIV. and the
^
queen of France went to St. Cloud to perform the customary

ceremonial of asperging the body of Henrietta of England,
duchess of Orleans, I paid a visit to her daughter, the Uttle
mademoiselle, at the Palais-Royal. I was dressed in my
mourning veil and mantle. I found that my young cousin
had with her the daughter of the duV.e of York, who had
been sent over to the queen of England, [Henrietta Maria,]
to be treated by the French physicians for a complaint in
her eyes. After the death of the queen her grandmother,
she had remained with madame, [the duchess of Orleans,]
and now I found her with mademoiselle, the eldest princess
of Orleans. They Mere both very little, yet monsieur,
[Philippe duke of Orleans,] who delighted in all ceremonies,
had made them wear the usual mourning veils for adults,
which trailed behind them on the ground. I told the king
of this ridiculous mourning garb the next morning, and de-
scribed to him the mantles worn by his niece, mademoiselle,
and the little English princess. 'Take care,' said Louis
XIV. ' if you rail at all this, my brother Orleans will never
;
forgive you.' " The lady Anne of York must have left Paris
and the palace of her uncle of Orleans in a few days after
the death of her aunt Henrietta, for her absence is limited
by her native historians to eight months.^ She had entirely
regained her health.
The remains of the old palace at Richmond, where queen
Elizabeth died, were put in repair for the residence of the
children of the duke of York while their education pro-
ceeded. Lady Frances, the daughter of the earl of SuflFolk
and wife to sir Edward Villiers, received the appointment of
governess to the princesses of York she was given a lease :
of Richmond-palace, and established herself there with her

charge, and with a numerous tribe of daughters of her o^vn.'
Six girls, children of lady Villiers, were brought up there

with the lady Mary and the lady Anne, future queens of
• Memoircs de Mademoiselle de Montpensier. Anne was nearly related to
lier, being daughter of her great-uncle, Gaston duke of Orleans.

2 Pno-fir Cnlffi'« Dfitfirt.ion.
* Ilistory of SuiTey, (Richmond). Collins's Peerage.

MARY 11. ,
'
7
1.^
Great Britain. Elizabeth Villiers, the eldest daughter of the

governess, afterwards became the bane of Mary's wedded
life, but she was thus, in the first dawn of existence, her
schoolfellowand companion, although four or five years older

than the princess. The whole of the Villiers' sisterhood
clung through life to places in the households of one or
other of the princesses; they formed a family compact of
formidable strength, whose energies were not always exer-
cised for the benefit of their royal patronesses.
Hi
5 I
The duchess of York had acknowledged by letter to her
father, the earl of Clarendon, then in exile, that she was by
conviction a Roman-catholic, which added greatly to the
troubles of her venerable parent, who wrote her a long
letteron the superior purity of the reformed catholic church
of England, and exhorted her to conceal her partiality to
the Roman ritual, or her children would be taken from her,
and she would be debarred from having any concern in their
education. He likewise earnestly exhorted her husband
thus :
"Your royal highness," wrote the great Clarendon,' "knows how far I have
always been from wishing the Roman-catholics to be persecuted, but I still less
wish it should ever be in their power to be able to ])ersccute those who differ
from them, since we too well know how little moderation they would or could
use ; and if this'^ [happens] which people so much talk of, (I hope without ground,)
it might very probably raise a greater storm against the Roman-catholics
I have written to your duchess [his own daughter] with all the freedom and
affection of a troubled and perplexed father, and do most humbly beseech your
royal highness by your authority to rescue her from bringing a mischief on you
and on herself that can never be repaired. I do think it worth your while to
remove and dispel these reproi\ches (how false soever) by better evidence."
The duchess of York was at that time drooping into the

grave ; she never had been well since the birth, in 1666, of
lier son Edgar, who survived her about a year. The duke of
York had revived this Saxon name in the royal family in
remembrance of Edgar king of Scotland, the son of St.
Margaret and Malcolm Canmore; he likewise wished to
recall the memory of Edgar the Great, who styled himself
monarch of the British seas.^ In her last moments, the
' No. 6854. It seems copied in James's own hand.
Harleian,
James's intention of professing himself a Roman-catholic.
* '
" Autograph Memoirs of James II. Macpherson's Appendix, vol. 1. p. 58.

8 MARY II.
duchess of York received the sacrament according to the

ritesof the Roman church, with her husband and a confiden-
tial gentleman of his, M. Dupuy, and a lady of her bed-
chamber of the same religion, lady Cranmer. It is singular
that the second appearance of the name of Cranmer in his-
tory should be in such a scene. Before this secret congre-
gation the duchess of York renounced the religion of her
youth, and was prepared for death by father Hunt, a Fran-
ciscan. "She prepared to die," says her husband,' "with
the greatest devotion and resignation. Her sole request to
me was, that I would not leave her till she expired, without
any of her old friends of the church of England came ; and
then that I would go and tell them she had communicated
with the church of Rome, that she might not be disturbed
with controversy." Soon after, bishop Blandford came, and
the duke left the bedside of his dying partner, arid explained
to the bishop that she had conformed to the Roman-cathoUc
church. The bishop promised not to dispute with her, but to
read to her a pious exhortation, in which a Christian of either
church might join. The duke permitted this, and led him to
his consort, who joined in prayer with him. Shortly after-
wards she expired in the arms of her husband, at the palace
of St. James, March 31 st, 1671. The duchess of York was
'^
interred with the greatest solemnity in Henry VII .'s chapel,

most of the nobility attending her obsequies. Her obituary
is thus oddly discussed by a biographer of her husband.^
" She was a lady of great virtue in the main. It was her
misfortune, rather than any crime, that she had an extraordi-
nary stomach; but much more than that, that she forsook
the true religion."
No mention is made of any attendance of her daughters
by the bedside of the dying duchess of York. The duke of
» Memoirs of James II., edited by the rev. Stanier Clark.
'Bishop Blandford has been greatly blamed for his liberality, but he acted
rightly; for, by seeing and praying with the dying duchess of York, he satisfied
himself that the religion she professed on her death-bed was not imposed upon
her through any species of coercion, but was adopted by her own choice. Can
there" be any doubt, from the above-quoted letter of Clarendon, that Anne Hyde
led her husband into his new religion ?
' Lite of James II. : 1702, p. 15.
I!
MARY II.
York had been very ill since the death of his sister, the
duchess of Orleans he believed himself to be in a decline,
:
and had passed the summer, with the duchess and their
children, at Richmond. The mysterious lites of the Roman-
catholic communion round the death-bed of the mother had,
perhaps, prevented her from seeing the little princesses and
tlieir train of prying attendants. The lady Mary and the
lady Anne were, when they lost their mother, the one nine
f '1
and the other six years old; the duchess likewise left a I
baby only six weeks old, lady Catharine, and her eldest
surviving son, duke Edgar, the heir of England, of the age
of five years: both these little ones died in the ensuing
twelvemonth. The death of the duchess of York was the
signal for the friends of the duke to importune him to marry
again. He replied, " that he should obey his brother if it
was thought absolutely needful, but should take no steps on
i| ii
his own account towards marriage.'' The approximation of
the daughters of the duke to the British throne, even after
the death of their brother Edgar duke of Cambridge, was
by no means considered in an important light, because the
marriage of their father with some young princess Avas anti-
cipated. Great troubles, nevertheless, seemed to surround
the ftiture prospects of James, for, soon after the death of
their mother, he was suspected of being a convert to the
religion she died in. All his services in naval government,
his inventions, his merits as a founder of colonies, and his
victories won in person as an admiral, could not moderate

the fierce abhorrence with which he was then pursued. His
marriage with a Roman-catholic princess, which took place
rather more than two years afterwards, completed his unpo-
pularity. Mary Beatrice of Modena, the new duchess of
York, was but four years older than the lady Mary of York.
When the duke of York went to Richmond-palace, and
announced his marriage to his daughters, he added, " I have
provided you a playfellow.'''
The education of the lady Mary and of the lady Anne was,
taken from their father's control by their uncle^
at this time,
' ijetters ui lau^ Kacxiei xvUsBe.
sell.
10 MARY II.
Charles II. Alarmed by his brother's bias to the Roman-

catholic religion, the king strove to counteract the injury
that was likely to accrue to his family, by choosing for them
a preceptor who had made himself remarkable by his attacks
ii on popery. This was Henry Compton, bishoi) of London,
who had forsaken the profession of a soldier and assumed
the clergyman's gown at the age of thirty. The great loy-
alty of his family procured him rapid advancement in the
church. The tendency of the duke of York to the Roman-
catholic tenets had been suspected by the Avorld, and Henry
Compton, by outdoing every other bishop in his violence
against him, not only atoned for his own want of education
in the minds of his countrymen, but gave him dominion
man he hated.* A feud, in fact, sub-
over the children of the
sistedbetween the house of Compton and the duke of York,
on account of the happiness of one of the bishop's brothers
having been seriously compromised by the preference Anne
Hyde gave to the duke.'
As to the office of preceptor, bishop Henry Compton pos-
sessing far less learning than soldiers of rank in general, it
was not very likely that the princesses educated under his
care would rival the daughters or nieces of Henry VIII. in
their attainments. The lady Mary and the lady Anne either
studied or let it alone, just as suited their inclinations. It
suited those of the lady Anne ô let it grew up

alone, for she
in a state of utter ignorance. There are few housemaids at
the present day whose progress in the common business of
reading and writing is not more respectable. Her spelling is
not in the antiquated style of the seventeenth century, but in
that style lashed by her contemporary Swift as peculiar to

the ladies of his day. The construction of her letters and
notes is vague and vulgar, as will be seen hereafter. The
mind of the elder princess was of a much higher cast, for the
lady Mary had been long under the paternal care. Her
father, the duke of York, and her mother, Anne Hyde, both
I possessed literary abilities,^ and her grandfather, lord Claren-
Dr. Lake's MS. *Memoirs of the Earl of Peterborough.
» Life of Queen Mary II. 1695. :
ilil I
MARY II. 11
don, with whom her childhood was domesticated, takes high

rank among the classics of his country. The French tutor
of the princesses was Peter dc Laine he has left honourable
:
testimony to the docility and application of the lady Mary,

his elder pupil. He declares that she was a perfect mistress
of the French language, and that all those who had been
honoured with any share in her education found their la-
bours very light, as she possessed aptitude and faithfulness
of memory, and ever showed obliging readiness in complying
with their advice. His observation regarding her knowledge
r N
of French is correct ; her French notes are far superior in
diction to her English letters, although in these latter very A
''f lii
charming passages occasionally occur. Mary's instructors in

drawing were two noted little people, being master and mis-
tress Gibson, the married dwarfs of her grandmother, queen
Henrietta Maria, whose wedding is so playfully celebrated
by Waller.' The Gibsons likewise taught the lady Anne to
draw. It has been said that these princesses had that taste
for the fine arts which seems inherent to every individual
of the house of Stuart, but the miserable decadence of paint-
ing in their reigns does not corroborate such praise.
From the time of their mother's death, the ladies Mary
and Anne were domesticated at Richmond-palace with their
governess, lady Frances Villiers, her daughters,and with their
assistant-tutors and chaplains. Dr. Lake and Dr. Doughty,
whose offices appear to have been limited to religious instruc-
tion. If these divines were not employed in imparting the
worldly learning they possessed to their pupils, they at least
did their utmost to imbue their minds with a strong bias
towards the ritual of the church of England, according to
its practical discipline in the seventeenth century. Every
feast, fast, or saint's day in the Common Prayer-book was care-
fully observed, and Lent kept Avith catholic rigidity. Lady
' Grainger's Biography, vol. iv. p. 119; to which we must add that the dwarfs
of Charles I.'s court, contrary to custom, were good for sometliing. Gibson and
his wife were among the best English-born artists of their era. He was just
three feet six inches in height; she was a dwarfess of the same proportion. This
little couple had nine good-sized children, and having weathered the storms of
civil war, lived happily together to old age. Little mistress Gibson was nearly
a centegenarian when she died.
12 MARY II.
Mary was frroally hclovrd by tlio clcr'jy of tlin old hcUuÎ

of Eiifjlisli There was one
divinity before she; left liii^land.
day in the year, which tlie whole family of the duke of Yoi'
always obacrvtd as one oi" deep sorrow on the .'30th of :
Jainiarv, he nnd his chihlren and liis household aasmned " t
garb of funereal blaek they passed the divy in fasting and

; hijrhness au(
tears, in prayers and mourning, in remeiubraucc of the
death of Charles I.'
The lady Mary of York was de^ otrdly attached to a younj;
lady who had been her phiyniji^-e iu in/aney, Anne Trelawney.
The lady Anne likewise lad ;. ^.1;- iclloAV, for Avhom .^hc
formed an affection so stren"-, that i.; powerfully influenced
her future destiny, 'î.'un name of this girl was Sarah Jen-
nings; her elder si' lor, x^^rances, had been one of tlic maids
of honour of Anne duchess )f York, and had married a
cadet of the noble house of Hamilton. If the assertion of
Sarah herself may be believed, her father was the son of an
impoverished cavalier-baronet, and thei-efore a gentleman;
yet her nearest female relative on the father's side Avas
of the rank of a servant maid.^ It is a mystery who first
established the fair Frances Jennings at court ; as for the
younger sister, Sarah, she was introduced to her highness
the little lady Anne of York by Mrs. Cornwallis,' the best
beloved lady of that princess, and, according to manuscript
authority, her relative. The mother of Frances and Sarah
Jennings was possessed of an estate sufficiently large, at
Sundridge, near St. Albans, to make her daughters looked
upon as co-heiresses; her name is always mentioned with
peculiar disrespect, when it occurs in the gossiping memoirs
of that day."* Sarah herself, when taunting lier descendants
.iJ!
' ' of D'Avaux, arnbassndor from France tn Holland, corroborated
TU'S|v.t •hr'^
ty pnyvs-'. vv ho mentions "^•"t his masLor the duke of Ynrk declined all business
0' ',.•<). .1 iiatday." i his fact is likewise fully confirmed by tlie Diary of
licuij earl ot Clarendon, uncle to the princesses Mary and Anne.

' Abigail Hill. See the Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough.
Lord Dartmouth; Notes to Burnet's Own Tinios, vol. i. p. 89. "Îrs.
»
Cicely Comwallis was a kinstvoman of queen Anne, and aft* rwarils became supe-
rior of the Benetlictine convent at Hammersmith. —
tl.i- i)rt"seiit convent, tlien
protected by Catharine of Braganza." —

Faulkner's Ilammersmlth, p. 212.
* Some stigma connected with fortxme-telling "m1 divinati' n was attached to
the mother of these fortunate beauties, Frances and Sarah Jennings. Count
MARY II. 13
in nftor-lifo, afTirms "that slio raised (hem out of the dirt."
She was born at a small house at Holywell, near St. Albans,

ou l!ie very day of Charles 11. *s restoration, 1 ()()(); eonsc-
qnontly she was four years ohlor thuu the lady Anne of
Yoi . By her own account, she used to play with her
hiffhness and luiiuse her in li< r infancy, and thus fixed an
( lupirc over her mind from childhood. The princess Mary
once told ârah Churchill' a little anccdot( "f their {girlhood,
whidi they both ajjreed was illustrative of t'K* lady Anne's
character. The princesses were, in the days «»f their tute-
la<re, in Kiehmond-park, whet
walkin<ij tofêther a dispute
arose between thciu whether an object tncy b( leld at a
great distance was a num or a tree, the 1? y M:ir\^ bein^ —
of the former opinion, the lady Anne r-T the
:,l
tter. At last
they came nearer, and lady Mary, supiôsing i.ci siwi r nmst
be convinced it Avas ..ceording to her view, cried ut, 'Now,
Anne, you must be ,>rtain what the object i^
<
Rut lady
Anne turned away, nnd persisting in what c had once
declared, cried, "No, îster; I still think it is a i c." The
anecdote was told by 8 rah Churchill long years fterwards,
for the purpose of dep cciating the ciiaraeter ot t royal
friend, as an instance "f imbecile obstinacy, th, refused
acknowledgment of error on conviction but, afti dl, can- ;
dour might suggest that tlie focus of vision in c sister
had more extensive rang( than in that of the other Mary ,

—
being long-sighted, and Ai ne near-sighted. Indeed, the state
of suffering from oplithalmia which the lady Anne en 'ured
in her childhood, gives pr ibability to the more cluu. table
supposition.
The first introduction of 'he royal sisters to court was by
their performance of a ball t, written for them by the poet
Anthony Hamilton, whilst cloinj> jnst e to the virtues and goodness of her elder
daughter Frances, who had nuiiTied own illustrious liouse, notieis that
uto his
" slie did not learn her prood eonduet her mother," and ihiit this woman was
t t'
not allowed to approach the court on a< count of her infamous character, altliough ;
she had 1 lid (Jhiu-les II. under some mysterious ohligation. As to the father of
Frances and Sarali Jennings, no trace an be found of liim in history, without
he is the same mi^jor .Jennings whose \'. )ful story is attested in Salmon's Exa-
mination of Burnet's History, p. 5.33.
* Coxe MSS., vol. xlv. folios 90-92 : i .edited letter of the duchess of Mai-lbo-
rough to sii- David Hamilton.
— —
m
14 MARY II.
Crowne, called Calista, or the Chaste Nymph, acted Decern-

ber 2, 1674. While they were in course of rehearsal for this
performance, Mrs. Betterton, the principal actress at tlie
king's theatre, was permitted to train and instruct them in
carriage and utterance.' Although such an instructress was
Mary and
not very desirable for girls of the age of the lady
the lady Anne, they derived from her lessons the important
accomplishment for which both were distinguished when
queens, of pronouncing answers to addresses or speeches
from the throne in a distinct and clear voice, with sweetness
of intonation and grace of enunciation. The ballet was
remarkable for the future historical note of the performer^'.
The lady Mary of York took the part of the heroine, Calista;
her sister the lady Anne, that of Nyphe; while Sarah Jen-
nings (afterwards duchess of Marlborough) acted Mercury;
lady Harriet Wentworth (whose name was afterwards so
lamentably connected with that of the duke of Monmouth)

performed Jupiter. Monmouth himself danced in the ballet.
Henrietta Blague,'^ a Ijeautifnl and virtuous maid of honour,
afterwards the wife of lord Godolphin, (the friend of Evelyn,)
performed the part of Diana, in a dress covered with stars
of splendid diamonds. The epilogue was written by Dryden,
and addressed to Charles II. In the course of it, he thus
compliments the royal sisters :
" Two glorious nymphs of your own godlike line,

Whose morning rays like noontide strike and shine,
Wliom you to suppliant monarchs shall dispose,
To bind your friends, and to disarm your foes."'
iiiiiliii
The lady Anne of York soon after acted Semandra in Lee's
Mithridate: was a part by no means advantageous to be
it
studied by the young princess. Her grandmother, Henrietta

' Colley Gibber's Apology. It is said that queen Mary allowed this actress
a pension during her reign.
* This young lady had the misfortime to lose a diamond worth 801. belonging
to the countess of Suflblk, which the duke of York (seeing her distress) very
!ii;i
kindly made good. —
Evelyn's Diary.
' Life of Dryden, by sir Walter Scott, who, mentioning the verbal mistake
by which Merrick (pioted the line
•• Whom yon to .ivpplant monarchs shall dispose,"
says, " that as the glorious nymplvs supplanted their fathnr. the blunder proved
an ememlation on the original."
I!
,
MARY II. 13
Mari'% and her ancestress, Anne of Denmark, were more

fortunate in tlic beautifiil masqiies written for them by Ben
Jonson, Danicll, and Fletcher. The impassioned lines of
Lee, in his high-flown tragedies, had been more justly liable
to the censures ofmaster Prynne's furious pen. Mrs. Bet-
terton instructed the princess in the part ofSemandra, and
her husband taught the young noblemen who took parts in
the play. Anne, after she ascended the throne, allowed ^Trs.
Betterton a pension of 100/. per annum, in gratitude fc. he
services she rendered her in the art of elocution.^ Compton,
bisho]) of London, thought that confirmation according to
the church of England, preparatory to the first communion,
was quite as needful to his young charges as this early in-
troduction to the great world and the pomps and vanities
thereof. He signified the same to the duke of York, and
asked his permission to confirm the lady Mary when she was
fourteen. The duke replied, "The reason I have not instructed
my daughters in my religion is, because they would have
been taken from me; communicate
therefore, as I cannot
with them myself, I am He, how-
against their receiving.^' ^
ever, desired the bishop " to tell the king his brother what
had passed, and to obey his orders." The king ordered his
eldest niece to be confirmed, which was done by the bishop
their preceptor in state, at Whitehall chapel,^ to the great
satisfaction of the people of England, who were naturally
alarmed regarding the religious tendencies of the princesses.
Both the royal sisters possessed attractions of person,
though of a very different character. The lady Mary of
York was in person a Stuart; she was tall, slender, and
graceful, with a clear complexion, almond-shaped dark eyes,
dark hair, and an elegant outline of features. The lady
Anne of York resembled the Ilydes, and had the round face
and full form of her mother and the lord chancellor Claren-
don. In her youth, she was a pretty rosy Hebe ; her hair a
dark chestnut-brown, her complexion sanguine and ruddy,
• Liuigliorne's Drama, p. 2, edition 1691.
- Autograpli Memoirs of .Tames II.
i
' Tlrigor Cok(>'9 Detection. The chaijcl belonging to Whitehall-palace,
,1„„i„ 1 1,.. £_
uy luu. F
1
16 JklARY II.
1 ' II'H
her face round and comely, her features strong but regular.
The only blemish in her face arose from a defluxion, which
had on her eyes in her childhood it had contracted the
fallen :
lids, and given a cloudiness to her countenance. Her bones

were very small, her hands and arms most beautiful. She
had a good ear for music, and performed well on the guitar,'
an instrument much in vogue in the reign of her uncle,
Charles II. The disease which had injured her eyes, seems
to have given the lady Anne a full immunity from the ne-
cessity of acquiring knowledge: she never willingly opened
a book, but was an early proficient at cards and gossiping.
tlitJIr
It
Sarah Jennings had been settled in some office suitable for a
young girl in the court of the young duchess of York, and
was inseparable from the lady Anne.^
King Charles II. thought proper to introduce his nieces
to the city of L'. jn, and took them in state, vnth his
'
illiil queen and their father, to dine at Guildhall at the lord

mayor's feast, 1675. They were at this time completely out,
or introduced into public life, and the ill effect of such intro-
duction began to show itself in the conduct of lady Mary.
II:
Like her sister Anne, she became a constant card-player,
and not content with devoting her evenings in the week-days
to this diversion, she played at cards on the Sabbath. Her
tutor. Dr. Lake, being in her closet with her, led the conver-
sation to this subject, which gave him pain, and he was,
moreover, apprehensive lest should offend the people.
it
Lady Mary asked him " what he thought of it ?" His an-
swer will be thought, in these times, far too lenient. ''I
told her," he says, " I could not say it was sin to do so,
but it was not (expedient ; and I advised her highness not to
do it, for fear of giving offence. Nor did she play at cards
on Sunday nights," he adds, " while she continued in Eng-
land."^ Her tutor had not denounced the detestable habit
of gambling on Sabbath nights in terms sufficiently strong
to prevent a relapse, for he afterwards deplored piteously
• Tindal's Continuation of Rapin, p. 370.
* Conduct of Sarah, duchess of Marlborough.
' Dr. Lake's Diary, January i)th, 1677, in manuscript; for the use of wliicb
we have to lenew our acknowledgments to G= P, Eliot, esq.

'ill
iiillL
11-
MALY II. 17
that the lady Mary renewed her Sunday card-parties in Hol-

land. It was a noxious sin, and he ought plainly to have
told her so. He could have done his duty to his pupil with-
out having the fear of royalty before his eyes, for neither the
king nor the duke of York, her father, was addicted to gam-
bhng.' Most likely Dr. Lake wa^ afraid of the ladies about
the princesses, for the English court, since the time of Henry
VIII., had been infamous for the devotion of both sexes to
I:? !i
that vice. The lady Anne of York is described by her com-
panion, Sarah Jennings, (when, in after life, she was duchess
of Marlborough,) as a card-playing automaton, and this
vile manner of passing her Sabbath evenings proves that
the same corruption had polluted the mind of her superior

sister.
When the lady Mary attained her fifteenth year, projects

for her marriage began to agitate the thoughts of her father
aud the councils of her uncle. The duke of York hoped to
give her to the dauphin, son of his friend and kinsman Louis
XIV. Charles II. and the people of England destined her
hand to her first William Henry prince of Orange,
cousin,
son of the late stadtholder William II., and Mary, eldest
daughter of Charles I. The disastrous circumstances which
rendered this prince fatherless before he was born, have been
mentioned in the life of his grandn. other, queen Henrietta
Maria. William of Orange (afterwards William III., elected
king of Great Britain) came prematurely into this world,
November 4, 1650, in the first hours of his mother's excessive
anguish for the loss of her husband. She was surrounded by
}
the deepest symbols of woe, for the room in which William
was born was hung with black ; the cradle that was to receive
[
him was black, even to the rockers. At the moment of his
birth, all the candles suddenly went out, and the room was
left in the most profound darkness. Such was the description

of one Mrs. Tanner, the princess of Orange's sage femme, who
added the following marvellous tale: "that she plainly saw

three circles of liglit over the new-born prince's head, which
[she supposed meant the three crowns which he afterwards ob-
jjlemoifti oi isaemeia auKe ot iiucKingham.

VOL. VII. C
18 MARY II.
tained." No jealousy was felt on account of this prediction

*
by his uncles, the expatriated heirs of Great Britain. James

duke of York mentions, in his memoirs, the posthumous
birth of his nephew as a consolation for the grief he felt for
the loss of the child's father. The infant WilHam of Orange
was consigned to the care of Catliarine lady Stanhope, who
had accompanied queen Henrietta Maria to Holland in the
capacity of governess to the princess-royal, his mother. It
was in lady Stanhope's apartments'^ in the Palace in the

Wood, at the Hague, that yoiing William was reared, and
nursed during his sickly childhood till he was ten years old.
In after-life he spoke of her as his earliest friend. Her son,
Philip earl of Chesterfield, was his playfellow. The prince
had an English tutor, the rev. Mr. Hawtayne.^
More than one dangerous accident befell the Orange
prince in his infancy. " You will hear," wrote his mother's
aunt, the queen of Bohemia,^ " what great peril my little
nephew escaped on the bridge at the princess of
yesterday,
Orange's house ; but, God. be tlianked, there was no hurt,
Ml;
only the coach broken. I took him into my coach, and
brought him home." At the following Christmas, the queen
of Bohemia wrote again, January 10, 1654, " Yesterday was
the naming of prince William's'^ child. I was invited to the
supper, and my niece the princess of Orange. The little
lililiil prince of Orange her son, and prince Maurice, were the
gossips. The States-General I mean their deputies, the —
council of state, and myself and Louise, were the guests.
My little nejihew, the prince of Orange, was at the supper,
j
and sat verie still all the time those States that were there
:
were verie much taken with him." Such praiseworthy Diitcli]

gravity in a baby of two years old was, it seems, very attrac-
tive to their high mightinesses the States-deputies. These I
1 Birch MS., MOO, Pint. Sampson Diary, written 1698, p. 71.

^ Letters of Philij) eai'l of Chesterfield.
' MS. Papers and entries in a largo family Uihle, in possession of the rcpre-
Bcntative of that gentleman, C. S. Hawtayno, esq., rear-admiral.

Letters of the Queen of Bohemia. Evelyn's Works, vol. iv. p. 141 ; and
|
Memoirs of Philip, second earl of Chesterfield, p. 47.

* Tliid., p. 159, prince William of Nassau-Dietz, who had married the little
|
prince's amit. Agues Alhertinc.

MAEY II. 19
affectionate mynheers were of the minority in the senate

belonging to the Orange party. Notwithstanding the occa-
sional visits of the deputies of the Dutch state, the prospects
of the infant William were not very brilliant in his native
land, for the republican party abolished the office of stadt-

holder whilst he was yet rocked in his sable cradle. It is
true that the stadtholdership was elective, but it had been
held from father to son since William I. had broken the
cruel yoke of Spain from the necks of the Hollanders. The
infant representative of this hero was therefore reduced to
the patrimony derived from the Dutch magnate of Nassau,
who had married a former princess of Orange, expatriated
from her beautiful patrimony in the south of France. A
powerful party in Holland still looked with deep interest on
the last scion of their great deliverer, William, but they were,
like his family, forced to remain oppressed and silent under
the government of the republican De Witt, while England

was under the sway of his ally, Cromwell. The young prince
of Orange had no guardian or .protector but his mother,
Mary of England, and his grandmother, the widow of Henry
Frederic, prince of Orange; who resided in the Old Court,
or dower-palace, about two miles from the ancient state-
palace of the Hague.
When William of Orange was a boy of eight or nine years
old, inhabited his mother's Palace of the Wood at the
he still
Hague he passed his days in her saloons with his governess,

:
lady Stanhope, or playing with the maids of honour in the

ante-chamber. A droll scene, in which he participated, is
I
by Elizabeth Charlotte, princess-palatine, afterwards
related
The queen of Bohemia, her grand-
duchess of Orleans.
mother,' with whom she was staying at the Hague, sum-
[
moned her one day to pay a state visit to the princess of

Orange and her son. The princess Sophia,^ who lived then
with the queen of Bohemia, her mother, (not in the most
[prosperous circumstances, as she had made a love-match with
' Elizabeth Charlottewas the only daughter of Charles Louis, eldest son of
I the queen of Bohemia, daughter of our James I.
^ The mother of George I. elector of Hanover, afterwards (as her represen-
tative) George I. king of Great Britain.
c 3
20 MARY II.
a younger brother of the house of Hanover,) took upon her-

self to prepare her little niece for her presentation to the
princess of Orange, by saying, " Lisette, [Elizabeth,] take
care that you are not as giddy as usual. Follow the queen,
your grandmother, step by step ; and at her departure, do
not let This exhortation was not
her have to wait for you."
needless, by her own account, a more uncouth little
for,
savage than the high and mighty princess Elizabeth Char-

lotte was never seen in a courtly drawing-room. She replied,
" Oh, aunt ! I mean to conduct myself very sagely .*' The
princess of Orange was quite unknown to her, but she was
on the most familiar terms with the young prince, William
of Orange, with whom he had often played at the house of
the queen of Bohemia. Before this pair of little cousins
adjourned to renew their usual gambols, the young princess
Elizabeth Charlotte did nothing but stare in the face of the
princess of Orange ; and as she could obtain no answer to
her repeated questions of "Who is that woman?" she at last

pointed to her, and bawled to the young prince of Orange,
" Tell me, pray, who is that woman with the furious long
nose?" William burst out laughing, and with impish glee
replied, " That is my mother, the princess-royal." Anne '
Hyde, one of the ladies of the princess, seeing the unfor-

i.
tunate little guest look greatly alarmed at the blunder she

had committed, very good-naturedly came forward, and led
her and the young prince of Orange into the bedchamber
of his mother. Here a most notable game of romps com-
menced between William and his cousin, who, befoi'e she
began to play, entreated her kind conductress, mistress Anne
Hyde,^ to call her in time, when the queen, her grandmother,
was about to depart. "We played at all sorts of games,"
continues Elizabeth Charlotte, " and the time flew very fast.
' The mother of William III. chose to retain the title of her birth-rauk in
preference to hor husband's title.

* Elizabeth Charlotte spells the name Hoyde, but it is plain that this amiable
jlli
maid of honour who took pity on the gaiivherie of the young princess, was tlie
daughter of Clarendon, the future wife of James duke of York, and the motiicr
of two queens-regnant of Great Britain; for she was at that time in the srrvice
of the princess of Orange, or, as that princess chose to be called, princess-royal of
Great Britain.
ih.-il!:!
i ^.iJ
' I
MARY II. 21
William of Orange and I were rolling ourselves up in a

Turkey carpet when I was summoned. Without losing an
up I jumped, and rushed into the saloon. The queen
instant,
of Bohemia was already in the ante-chamher. I had no time
to loseI twitched the princess-royal very hard by the robe
;
todraw her attention, then sprang before her, and having

made her a very odd curtsy, I darted after the queen, my
grandmother, whom I followed, step by step, to her coach,
leaving every one in the presence-chamber in a roar of laugh-
ter, I knew not wherefore." >
u
The death of the princess of Orange with the smallpox, in
England, has already been mentioned; her young son was
left an orphan at nine years of age, with no better protector
than his grandmother, the dowager of Henry Frederic. The

hopes of the young prince, of any thing like restoration to
rank among the sovereign-princes of Europe, were dark and
distant all rested on the good-will and affection of his
:
uncles in England. The princess of Orange had solemnly

left her orphan son to the guardianship of her brother king
Charles. Several letters exist in the State-Paper office,
written in a round boyish hand, from William, confirming

this choice, and entreating the fatherly protection of his
royal uncles. The old princess-dowager, Wilhelmina, has
been praised for the tone of education she gave her grandson.
He was in his youth economical, being nearly destitute of
money; and he was abstinent from all expensive indulgences.
He wrote an extraordinary hand of the Italian class, of
enormously large dimensions; his French letters, though
brief, are worded with an elegance and courtesy which formed
a contrast to the rudeness of his manners. He was a daily

sufferer from ill-health, having, from his infancy, struggled
with a cruel asthma, yet all his thoughts were set on war,
and all his exercises tended to it. Notwithstanding his di-
minutive and weak form, which was not free from deformity,
he rode well, and looked better on horseback than in any
other position. He was a hnguist by natm'e, not by study,
and spoke several languages intelligibly. His earnest desire
to regain his rank prompted him to centre all his studies in
22 MARY II.
the art of war, because it was the office of the stadtholder to

lead the army of Holland.
The prince of Orange spent the winter of 1670 in a
friendly visit at the court of England,where he was received
by utmost kindness ; and it is said, that
his uncles with the
they then and there concerted with him some plans, which
led to his subsequent restoration to the stadtholdership of
Holland. WilUam was nineteen, small and weak, and rather
deformed. He seldom indulged in wine, but drank ale, or
some schnaps of his native Hollands gin he regularly went :
to bed at ten o'clock. Such a course of life was viewed

invidiously by the riotous courtiers of Charles II., and they
wickedly conspired to entice the phlegmatic prince into
drinking a quantity of champagne, which flew to his head,
and made him more mad and mischievous than even Buck-
ingham himself, who was at the head of the joke. Nothing
could restrain the Orange prince from sallying out and
breaking the windows of the apartments of the maids of
honour, and he would have committed farther outrages, if
his wicked tempters had not seized him by the wrists and
ankles, and carried him struggling and raging to his apart-
ments. They exulted much in this outbreak of a quiet and
well-behaved prince, but the triumph was a sorry one at the
best. Sir John Reresby, who relates the anecdote,^ declares,
" that such an exertion of spirit was likely to recommend the
prince to the lady Mary :" it was certainly more likely to
frighten a child of her age. At that time he was considered
as the future spouse of his young cousin. The prince left
England in February, 1670.
The princess Elizabeth Charlotte declares, in her memoirs,
"that she should not have objected to marry her cousin,
"William of Orange.^' Probably he waa not so lovingly dis-
posed towards his eccentric playfellow, for notwithstanding
his own want of personal comeliness, this warlike modicum
of humanity was vastly particular regarding the beauty,
meekness, piety, and stately height of the lady to whom he
aspired. None of these particulars were very pre-eminent in
i!il!!!!'
Af« i^wi^clK^r
I
MA.%jm\jAi.a \JA. WA VOIk^ V •
.
MARY II. m
/
his early playfellow, wlio had, instead, wit at will, and that
"
species of merry miscl '
called espieylerie, sufHcient to have
governed him, and ah lis heavy Dutchmen to hoot. She
had, however, a different destiny' as the mother of the
second royal line of Bonrhon, and William was left to fulfil
I
the intention of his mother^s family, by reserving his hand
for a daughter of England.
Previously to this event, the massacre of the De Witts
occurred, —the pretence for which outrage was, that De
Ruart of Putten, the elder brother, the pensionary or chief
magistrate of the republic, had hired an apothecary to
civil
poison the prince of Orange ;^ the mob, infuriated by this

delusion, tore the two unfortunate brothers to pieces, with
circumstances of horror not to be penned here. Such was
the leading event that ushered the prince of Orange into
political life. Whether William was guilty of conspiring the
deaths of these his opponents, remains a mystery, but his
enemies certainly invented a term of reproach derived from
their murder; for whensoever he obtained the ends of his
ambition by the outcry of a mob, it was said that the prince
of Orange had " De Witted" his opponents.^ Be that as it
may, the De Witts, the sturdy upholders of the original
constitution of their country, were murdered by means of
the faction-cry of his name, if not by his contrivance ; their
deaths inspired the awe of personal fear in many, both in
Holland and England, who did not altogether approve of the
principles by Avhich the hero of Nassau obtained his ends.
Europe had been long divided with the violent contest for
superiority between the French and Spanish monarchies.
Since the days of the mighty accession of empire and wealth
by Cliarles V., the kings of France had rather unequally
struggled against the powers of Spain, leagued with the
empire of Germany. The real points of difference between
' She is the direct ancestress of the late king of the French, Louis Phihppi
2 By poisoning liis waistcoat ! See the chapter entitkxl " De Witt and his
Facti(m."-Sir VVilliam Temple, vol. ii. p. 215. The reader should, Iiowcvct,
notice that republicanismwas the legitimate government in Holland, and hat (
William of Orange, as an hereditary ruler there, was a usurper.

3 This term is even used by modern authors ; see Mackintosh's History of
the Revolution, p. 603.
^^1"
':?!
''1 24 MARY II,
Louis XTV. and tlio prince of Omnpfo wore wholly porsomil

onr», and liiul notliinj? to do with citlicr liberty or relifîon.
Williiun, who wus cxccHsivoly proud of his I'roveiu/id ancestry,

was haunted with an idea more worthy of a poc^t than a
Diitehinan, hiMu;; th(^ restoration of his tituhir prineii)ahty,

the (h)njinions from whence he (Unived his tith^, the ôhh'n
Atiransia' of the south of France, Heated on the Rhone.
"Willian\ (hnnaniU'd the restitution of the city of Oran^ê from
Louis XIV. after it had been resi«j;ne(l by Ins ancestors for
two centuries, and the tith^ of Oranjê had been transphmtcd,

by the nnirriafê of its heiress, anion<( the foj^s and fro<js of
tlie Low (countries. As VVilhatn of Orange retained the
tith% and was the grandson of (puên IhMU'ietta Maria, ami
as such was one of his nearest nude relatives, Louis XIV.
had no obj* etion to receive him as a vassal-peer of Francu', if
he would have accepted the hand of his eldest illcpjitimato
child, the fair danjijhter of the beautiful La Valliere, (who
afterwards nuirried the fourth prince of the blood royal,
Conti). William refused the youuf^ lady, and the whole

proposition, very rudely, and it is dillieult to decide which
of these two kinsmen clurished the more deadly raj;e of
vengeful hatred against the other for the remainder of their
,;!
lives."
The first hint frcmi an oflicial person relative to the wed-

Mary and William, occurs in a letter from sir William
lock of
Temple to him. "The duke of York, your inicle," wrote
this ambassador, "bade me assure your hijijhnesa, 'that he
looked on your interest as his own; and if there Avaa any
thing wherein you mijjht use his services, you might be sure
of it.* I replied, ' Pray, sir, remt!mber there is nothing you

except, and you do not know how far a young prince's desires
may go. 1 will tell him winit you say, and if there be occa-
sion, be a witness of it.' The duke of York smiled, and
said, Well, well
*
you may, for all that, tell him what I hid
m M
;
you.* Upon which 1 said, ' At least, I will tell the prince of
Orange that you smiled at my question, which is, I am suic,
' rroiu the yoUow Btono of which the Honians built this town, not from the
growth of onuigos.
* DanKcau. and St. Simon's Momoivs.
MAK u, m
***
ji prcat (loal bettor than if you fro\
N^, Ivparf al I
person, c<)iiV(M'sarit with the; can doubt.stat(!-|)fipri of tile er ^^
lor a irioinont that t\w. rcMioratioii 'firir ih phew to his < ;
ri;;lits as Htadthohh-r was a |)(>iiit whi(;h (Miiirlcs 11. and his
brother never forjôt, whih; they Wijre eontestinf^ the sove-

roijîity of lh(! seas with lh(! n^publieaii f'aetion wliicli then
pjvcnied Holhuid. Sir VVilham Tojnph; ckMirly ()oiiits out
three thiiif;s that OhaHes H. had at heart, and which he
filially ell'eetcMl. First, for the Diiteb fleets to own his su-
preiiiaey in the narrow seas, by strikiu}^ their fla^^s to the
sinall(!st craft that bon; the banner of ICn<^land, which was
(lone, and has becMi done ever since, thanks to the; victories
of his brother. The
was carried to all
" niattcT of the flaj^
tlic heif^ht his majesty (/harles II. could wish, and the ac-
knovvled}j;ni(!nt of its dominion in the narrow seas allowed
by treaty from tin; most [)owerful of our neighbours at sea,

which had lun'cr yet been yi(;l(led by the weakest of them.""
The next, that his nephew William, who was at this period
of his life rejârdcd by (Miarles and James affectionately as if
ho were a cherished son, should be reco;;nised not only as
stadtholdcr,'' but haredilary stadtliolder, with succession to
children. Directly this was done, Charles made a separate
peace with Holland, with scarcely an a[)ology to France.*
Next it a])pears, by the same authority,'* that king Charles
11., poor as he was, remembered that England had never
paid the portion stipulated with the princess-royal, his aunt.
> Sir VViUiain Tcmplc'H Letters, vol. iv. p. 22, Feb. 1674.
« 11)1(1., vol. i. p. 250; edition l7r)7. » Ibid., pp. 247, 252, 258, 261.
* In tlio 811, there is an abstract of the de-
Atliis Oe()jifni])lii<'iia, vol. i. p.
mands of the king of (h-eat Hritain in behalf of his nephew, after the last great
battle of Solebay, gained by his unele James duke of York. "Article VI. That
tlipprince of Orange and his posterity shall hene(!forwar{l enjoy the sovereignty
of the United Provinci's; that the ])rince and his heirs shonhl for ever enjoy the
dignities of general, admiral, and stadtliolder." That this clause might entrench
on tiie liberties of Holland is undeniable, but at the same time it redeemed the
promise made by Charles to his dying sister "regarding the restoration of her
ori)lian son as stadtliolder, with
iiir greater power than his ancestors had ever
enjoyed." Nothing can be more diametrically opposite to truth than the perpe-
tual assertion of the authors of the lastcentm-y, that Charles II. and his brother
oppressed their nephew, instead of being, what they really wei-e, hia indulgent
benefactors.
* Temple's Memoirs, p. 251.
26 MARY II.
He now liononrahly paid it, not to the states of Holland,

but insisted that should be paid into the hands of her
it
orphan son, his nephew, Williatn of Orange, and this was

done J and let those who doubt it turn to the testimony of
the man who effectedWilliam Temple.
it, — sir
After Charles had seen his bereaved and impoverished

nephew firmly establivshed as a 8overei<;n-prince, with his
mother's dowry in his pocket to render him independent, he
recalled all his subjects fi}j;hting under the banners of France,'
and gave leave for the Spaniards and their generalissimo, his
nephew William, to enlist his subjects in their service against
France. Great personal courage was certainly possessed by
William of Orange, and personal courage, before the Moloch
centuries gradually blended into the sweeter sway of Mam-
mon, was considered tantamount to all other virtues. In
one of the bloody drawn battles, after the furious strife had
commenced between Louis XIV. and Spain in the Low
Countries, the prince of Orange received a musket-shot in
the arm his loving Dutchmen groaned and retreated, when
:
theiryoung general took off his hat with the wounded arm,
and waving it about his head to show his arm was not broken,
cheered them on to renew the charge. Another anecdote of
William's conduct in the field is not quite so pleasant. In
his lost battle of Mont Cassel, his best Dutch regiments per-
tinaciously retreated.The prince rallied and led them to
the charge, till fled, and carried him with them
they utterly
to the main body. The diminutive hero, however, fought
both the French and his own Dutch in his unwilling transit.
One great cowardly Dutchman he slashed in the face, ex-
claiming, " Coquin ! je te marqiierai, au moins, afiti de te
;i|il!!||i
pendre." — ' Rascal ! I will set a mark on thee, at least, that

I may hang thee afterwards.'^ This adventure leans from
the perpendicular of the sublime somewhat to the ridicnlous.
It was an absurd cruelty, as well as an imprudent sally of
venomous temper; there was no glory gained by slashing
' Temple's Memoirs, p. 250. Party historians have taken advantage of
these mercenaries fighting on both sides, to make the greatest confiisiou at
' Temple's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 399.

— :
MARY II. 27
a man's face, who was too much of n poltroon not to demolish

him on such provocation.
Anion;? the Hritish subjects wlio studiiul the art of war
under William, wliilst that prince was j^cneralissimo for
Spain, was the renowned Graham of Claverhouse, who after-
wards made his crown of Great Britain totter. At the bloody
battle of Seneftc, Claverhouse saved the prince of Oranjje,
when his horse was killed under him, from death, or from
what the prince would have liked less, captivity to Louis XIV.
he rescued him by a desperate charge, and sacrificing his own
chance of retreat, placed the little man on his own swift
and strong war-horse. Like his great-nephew, Frederic IL

of Prussia, William of Orange sooner or later always mani-
fested ungrateful hatred against those who saved his life. How
William requited John Fenwick, avIio laid him under a
sir
similar obligation the same day, or soon afterwards, is matter

of history.' He, however, promised Claverhouse the com-
mand of the first regiment that should be vacant but he ;
broke his word, and gave it to the son of the earl of Port-
more, subsequently one of his instruments in the Revolution.
Claverhouse was indignant, and meeting his supplanter at
Loo, he caned him. The prince of Orange told Claverhouse
"that he had forfeited his right hand for striking any one
within the verge of his palace." Claverhouse, in reply,
undauntedly reproached him with his breach of promise.
" I give you what is of more value to you than a regiment,"
said the prince, drily, ''being your good right hand."
"Your highness must likewise give me leave to serve else-
where," returned Claverhouse. As he was departing, the
prince of Orange sent him a purse of two hundred guineas,
as the purchase of the good steed which had saved his life.
Claverhouse ordered the horse to be led to the prince's
stables, and tossed the contents of the purse among the
Dutch grooms.'^
Most persons suppose that William of Orange had to bide
• Memoirs of Captain Bernardi, who was present. It rests not only on his
testimony, but is an oft-repeated fact.
' Memoirs of Sir Ewen Cameron j published by the Muitland Club, pp. 274,
275.
28 MARY 11.
the ambitious attack of Louis XIV. in 1674 single-handed.

A mistake; he was the general of all Europe combined
against France, with tlie exception of Great Britain, who sat
II
looking on; and very much in the right, seeing the Roman-
catholic power of France contending witli tlie ultra-pa})ist
states of Spain and Austria, the hist championizcd, forsooth,
by the young Orange protestant, whose repeated defeats,
however, had placed Flanders (the usual European battle-
ground) utterly at the mercy of Louis XIV. William of
Orange, with more bravery than was needfîh "as not quite
so great a general as he thought himself. His situation noAv
became most interesting, for his own country was forthwith
occupied by the victorious armies of France, and every one
but himself gave him up for lost. Here his energetic firm-
ness raises him at once to the rank of the hero which he
was, although he has received a greater share of hero-worship
than was his due. He was not an injured hero; he had
provoked the storm, and he was fighting the battles of the
most culpable of papist states. We have no space to enter
into the detail of the heroic struggle maintained by the young
stadtholder and his faithful Dutchmen; Iioav they laid their
country under Avater, and successfully kept the powerful
invader at bay. Once the contest seemed utterly hopeless.
William was advised to compromise the matter, and yield up
Holland as the conquest of Louis XIV. " No," replied he;
" I mean to die in the last ditch." A speech alone sufficient
to render his memory immortal.
In the midst of the arduous war with France, just after
the battle of Seneffe, William of Orange was seized with the
m same fatal malady which had destroyed both his father and
his mother in the prime of their lives. The eruption refused
to throw out, and he remained half dead. His physicians
declared, that if some young healthy person, who had not
had the disease, would enter the bed and hold the prince iu
i his arms for some time, the animal warmth might cause the
:ii!i pustules to appear, and the hope of his country be thus
III i'
saved. This announcement produced the greatest consterna-
tion among the attendants of the prince; even those who had
1
MARY IT. 29
had the disease were terrified at encountering the infection in

its most virulent state, for tlie physicians acknowledged that
the experiment might be fatal. One of the pages of the

prince of Orange, a young noble of the line of Bentinck, who
was eminently handsome, resolved to ventiire his safety for
the life of his master, and Volunteered to be the subject of
the experiment, which, when tried, was completely successful.
Bentinck imbibed the disease, and narrowly escaped with life:
for many years, he was William's favourite and prime-minis-
ter. Soon after William's recovery from this dangerous dis- I i
ease, his royal uncles, supposing the boyish thirst of combat

in tlieirnephew might possibly be assuaged by witnessing or
perpetrating the slaughter of a hundred thousand men, (the
victims of the contest between France and Spain in four
Ii
years,) gave him a hint, that if he would pacify Europe he
should be rewarded by the hand of his cousin, tlic princess

Mary. The prospect of his uncle James becoming the father
of a numerous family of sons, prompted a rude rejection in
the reply, "he was not in a condition to think of a wife.^'*
'
1
The duke of York Avas deeply hurt and angry ^ that any men-
tion had been made of the pride and darling of his heart, his
beautiful Mary, then in her fifteenth year; "though," con- f, I
tinues Temple, "it was done only by my lord Ossory, and

whether with any order from the king and duke, he best
knew.'' Lord Ossory, the brave son of Ormonde, the re-
nowned ducal-cavalier, commanded the mercenary English
troops before named. He was as little pleased as the insulted
father at the slight cast on young M.iry.
The Dutch prince experienced a change in the warmth of
the letters which the father of the princess Mary had addres-
sed to him, since the rude answer he had given to a very kind
intent. It had, besides, been signified to him by Charles II.,
when he proposed a visit to England, "that he had better stay
till invited." These intimations made the early- wise politician
understand, that the insult he had offered, in an effervescence
of brutal temper, to the fair young princess whose rank was
so much above his own, was not likely to be soon forgotten
' Temple, vol. ii. p. 294. ' Ibid., p. 295.
80 MARY 11.
by her fond father or her uncle. With infinite sagacity he

changed his tactics, knowing that the king of Great Britain,
" (whatsoever party revihngs may say to the contrary,) though

pacific, really maintained the attitude of Henry VIII. when
Charles V. and Francis I. were contending together. Young
William of Orange needed not to be told, that if his uncles
threw their swords into the scale against his Spanish and
Austrian masters, all the contents of all the dykes of Holland
would not then fence him against his mortal enemy Louis,
whom, it will be remembered, he had likewise contrived to
i'-
insult regarding the disposal of his charming self in wedlock.
With the wise intention of backing dexterously out of a pretty
considerable scrape, the young hero of Nassau made an assig-
nation with his devoted friend, sir William Temple,^ to hold
some discourse touching love and marriage, in the gardens of
his Hounslardyke-palace, one morning in the pleasant month
of January. " He appointed the hour," says sir William
Temple, "and we met accordingly. The prince told me
that ' I could easily believe that, being the only son that was
,(\m left of his family, he was often pressed by his friends to think
of marrying, and had had many persons proposed to him, as

their several humours led them ; that, for his part, he knew it
was a thing tobe done at some time or other.*'' After pro-
ceeding in this inimitable style through a long speech, setting
forth " the oflPers made to him by ladies in France and Ger-
many," he intimated that England was the only country to
which he was likely to return a favu arable answer; and added,
" Before I make any paces that way, I am resolved to have
your opinion upon two points; but yet I will not ask it,
unless you promise to answer me as a friend, and not as king

Charles's ambassador." He knew very well that all he was
pleased to say regarding " his paces," as he elegantly termed
his matrimonial proposals, would be duly transmitted to his
uncle, both as friend and ambassador,and that the points on
which he called a consultation would be quoted as sufficient
apology for his previous brutality. " He wished," he said,
n to know somewhat of the person and disposition of the
» Temple, vol. ii. pp. 325, 334.
lliU'iii
— '
MARY II. 31
young lady Mary; for though it would not pass in the world
[i.e., that the worki woukl not
give him credit for such deli-
cacy] for a prince to seem concerned in those particulars, yet,

for himself, he would tell me without any sort of aflPectation
that he wasso, and to such a degree that no circumstances
of fortune and interest would engage him without those of

person, especially those of humour and disposition, [meaning
temper and principles]. As for himself, he might perhaps
not be very easy for a wife to live with, he was sure he —
should not to such wives as were generally in the courts of
this age; that if he should meet with one to give him trouble
at home, 'tivas Avhat he shouldn't be able to bear, who was like
to have enough abroad in the course of his life. Besides,

after the manner in which he was resolved to live with a wife
— which should be the very best he could, he would have one
that he thought likely to live well with him, which he thought
chiefly depended on her disposition and education; and that
if I' [sir William Temple] knew any thing particular in these
points of the lady Mary, he desired I would tell him freely."

Sir William Temple repHed, that " He was very glad to find
that he was resolved to marry. Of
his own observation he
could say nothing of the temper and principles of the lady
Mary; but that he had heard both his wife and sister speak
with all advantage of what they could discern in a princess so
yoimg, and more from what they had been told by her gover-
ness, lady Villiers, for whom they had a particular friendship,
and who, he was sure, took all the care that could be in that
part of her education which fell to her share." Who would
have believed that the first exploit of the young prince then —
making such proper and sensible inquiries regarding the tem-
per and principles of his wedded partner, with such fine sen-
timents of wedded felicity on a throne —
should be the seduc-
tion of the daughter of this governess, the constant companion
of his wife, who was subjected to the insult of such compa-
nionship to the last hour of her life ? Sir William Temple
who, good man, believed most guilelessly all that the hero of
Nassau chose to instil thus —

proceeds:^ "After two hours'
I mIt'iiipit;
1-»-. TIC !-- 1 !? oo^ nn/%
ooo, oou. 2 Ituiu., y. ooo.
^ H iucuiuirs^ voi. u. pp.
1 ,
I
8I» MARY II.
discourse on this subject, the prince of Orange concluded that

he would enter on this pursuit/' that is, propose forthwith for
his cousin Mary. " He meant to write both to the king and
m the duke of York to beg their favour in it, and their leave that
he might go over into England at the end of the campaign.
He requested that my wife, lady Temple, who was returning
upon my private affairs in my own country, should carry and
deliver both his letters to his royal uncles; and during her
stay there, should endeavour to inform herself, the most par-
ticularly that she could, of all that concerned the person,
humour, and dispositions of the young princess. Within two
or three days of this discourse the prince of Orange brought
his letters to lady Temple,and she went directly to England
with them. " She William Temple, " pre-
left me,'' said sir
paring for the treaty of Nimeguen," where, by the way, the

Dutch and French were equally desirous of peace, although
William of Orange contrived to eke out the war, in behalf of
his Spanish master, for full three years.
The prince of Orange was better able to negotiate for a
wife, having grandmother in 1675, who had posses-

lost his
sion of the Palace in the Wood, and otlier immunities of
dowagerhood at the Hague. This princess was remarkable
W It
m
for a gorgeous economy
gold plate.
she had never more than 12,000
;
crowns per annum revenue, yet she was entirely served in

Sir William Temple: enumerates her water-
bottles of gold, the key of her closet of gold, and all her
gold cisterns every thing this grand old dowager touched
;
was of that adorable and adored metal. It was as well,

perhaps, for young Mary, that her husband's grandmother
had departed before her arrival. It may be doubted whe-
ther the young bride inherited all the gold moveables.
William had a bad habit of shooting away all the precious
metals he could appropriate, in battles and sieges. The
"plenishings" at Whitehall, although only of
Ml coined up, and departed on the same bad errand, in the
silver, were
last
years of his life.
The campaign of 1677 being concluded, the Orange hero

!' i
having nothing better to do, condesuenued to go in person
!!ill!!!>i
MARY II. 33
to seek the hand of one of the Europe, and the

finest girls in
presumptive heiress of Great Britain.For this purpose he set

sail from Holland, and arrived at Harwich, after a stormy
passage, October ^^th of the same year. Having disposed

himself to act the wooer,* " He came," says sir William
Temple, "like a trusty lover, post from Harwich to New-
market, where his uncles, Charles II. and James duke of
York, were enjoying the October Newmarket meeting.'*
Charles was residing in a shabby palace there, to which his
nephew instantly repaired lord Arlington, the prime-minis-
:
ter, waited on him at his alighting.

" My lord treasurer
Danby and 1" continues sir William Temple, " went toge-
ther to wait on the prince, but met him on the middle of the
stairs, down to the king.
involved in a great crowd, coming
He whispered to us both must desire me to answer
' that he
for Um^ and for my lord treasurer Danby, so that they
might from that time enter into business and conversation,
as if they were of longer acquaintance;* which was a wise
strain considering his lordship*8 credit at court at that time.

It much shocked my lord Arlington."^ This means that
William demanded of Temple an introduction to Danby,
with whom he was not personally acquainted; but with
such kindred souls, a deep and lasting intimacy soon was
established.
The prince of Orange was very kindly received by king
Charles and the duke of York, who both strove to enter
into discussions of business, which they were surprised and
diverted to observe how dexterously he avoided. " So king
Charles," says Temple, " bade me find out the reason of it."
The prince of Orange told me "he was resolved to see the
I
young princess before he entered into affairs, and to proceed
I
in that before the other affairs of the peace.** The fact was,
' Temple's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 519, et seq.
' Tliisseems a technical term for ' introduction,' being a sort of warranty that
the person introduced was " good man and true."
I
' We have the testimony of M. Dumont, of Les Affaires Etrang^res de

I Prance, that not the slightest evidence exists among the documents there im-
Iplicating the personal honesty of Arlington, Cliftbrd, or the other members of
the cabal. These are " dogs to whom a very bad name has been given," perhaps
[worse tb'vn th.ev actually deserved.
VOL. vn- D
a
3i MARY II.
he did not mean to make peace, but to play the impassioned

lover as well as he could, and obtain her from the good-
nature of his uncle Charles, and then trust to his alliance
with the Protestant heiress of England to force the continu-
ance of the war with France. He could not affect being in
love with his cousin before he saw her, and for this happiness
he showed so much impatience, that his imcle Charles said,
(laughing, like a good-for-nothing person as he was, at a
delicacy which would have been most respectable if it had
been real,) "he supposed his whims must be humoured;'"
and, leaving Newmarket some days before his inclination, he
escorted the Orange to Whitehall, and presented Lin as a
suitor to his fair niece.
"The prince," proceeds his friend Temple, "upon the
sight of the princess Mary was so pleased with her person/
and all those signs of such a ' humour' as had been described
to him, that he immediately made his suit to the king, which
was very well received and assented to, but with this condi-
tion, that the terms of a peace abroad might first be agreed
on between them. The prince of Orange excused himself,
and said "he must end his marriage before he began the
peace treaty." Whether he deemed marriage and peace in-
compatible he did not add, but his expressions, though per-
fectly consistent with his usual measures, were not very
suitable to the lover-like impatience he affected " His allies :
so," contim
would be apt to believe he had made this match at their cost;
and, for his part, he would never sell his honour for —
wife!" This gentlemanlike speech availed not, and the king
continued so positive for three or four days, " that my lord
treasurer [Danby] and I began to doubt the whole business

would break upon this punctilio," says sir William Temple,
adding,^ " About that time I chanced to go to the prince at
supper, and found him in the worst humour I ever saAV. He
told me that he repented coming into England, and resolved
'
that he would stay but two days longer, and then be gone, if
the king continued in the mind he was, of treating of the
» Temple's Memoirs, vol. ii. pp. 419, 420. « Ibid.
'
' Ibid. '\ 429.
MARY II. 35
peace before he was married. But that before he went, the

king must choose how they should live hereafter for he was
;
siu-e must be either like the 'greatest friends or the

it
greatest enemies/ and desired me ' to let his majesty know

so next morning, and give him an account of what he should
say upon it.'
"' This was abundantly insolent, even sup-
I il
posing William owed no more to his uncle than according to

the general-history version; but when we see him raised
from the dust, loaded with benefits, and put in a position to
assume this arrogant tone, —undeniable allowed even
facts,
by the partial pen of Temple, —the hero of Nassau assumes f
I.
the ugly semblance of an ungrateful little person, a very

spoiled manikin withal, in a most ill-behaved humour.
Careless, easy Charles, who let every man, woman, and
child have its own way that plagued him into compliance,
was the very person with whom such airs had their intended
effect. Sir William Temple having communicated to his
sovereign this polite speech of defiance in his own palace,
Charles replied, after listening with great attention, " Well,
I never yet was deceived in judging of a man's honesty by
his looks; and if I am not deceived in the prince's face, he
is the honestest man in the world. I will trust him: he shall
have his wife. You go, sir William Temple, and tell my
brother so, and that it is a thing I am resolved on." —
" I did
so," continues sir William Temple, " and the duke of York
seemed at first a little surprised; but when I had done, he

said ' the king shall be obeyed, and I would be glad if all his
subjects would learn of me to obey him. I do tell him my

opinion very freely upon all things ; but when I know his
positive pleasure on a point, I obey him.'^ .... From the
duke of York I went," continues Temple, " to the prince of
Orange, and told him my story, which he could hardly at
beheve ; but he embraced me, and told me I had made
first
him a very happy man, and very unexpectedly. So I left

him to give the king an account of what had passed. As I
went through the ante-chamber of the prince of Orange, I
encountered lord treasurer Danby, and told him my story.
01 2 iv,;a
d2
86 MARY II.
Lord treasurer undertook to adjust all between the king and

the prince of Orange." This he did so well, that the match
was declared that evening in the cabinet council.' Then the
prince of Orange requested an interview with his uncle th"
duke of York, for the purpose of telling him " that he had
something to say about an affair which was the chief cause
of his coming to England: this was, to desire that he might
have the happiness to be nearer related to him, by marrying
the lady Mary." The duke replied "that he had all the
esteem for him he could desire ; but till they had brought to
a conclusion the affair of war or peace, that discourse must
be delayed."'* The duke mentioned the conversation to king
Charles in the evening, who owned that he had authorized
the application of the prince of Orange.
Some private negotiation had taken place between the
duke of York and Louis XIV., respecting the marriage of
the lady Mary and the dauphin. The treaty had degenerated
into a proposal for her from the prince de Conti, which had
been rejected by the duke of York with infinite scorn.^ He
considered that the heir of France alone was worthy of the
hand of his beautiful Mary. Coiu't gossip had declared that
the suit of the prince of Orange was as unacceptable to her
as to her father, and that her heart was already given to a
handsome young Scotch lord, on whom her father would
rather have bestowed her than on his nephew. How the
' Memoirs of James II. edited by Stanier Clark.
' Sir William Temple's Memoirs, vol. ii.
• There a story aflont, in a party book called the "Secret History" of those
is
times, thab the king of France (taking advantage of the reluctance manifested
by the duke of York to the Orange match) proposed by his ambassador, that
the young lady Mary should affect indisposition, and request to go, for the re-
covery of her health, to the baths of Bourbon, when slie should be seized upon,
and married directly to the dauphin; and he promised every toleration of her
faith, and that the Protestants in France, (to humour the duke of York's pas-
sion for toleration,) should have unusual privileges. Neither the duke nor the
king was to appear as consenting in the scheme. Another version is, "that
Louis XIV. sent the duke dc Venddme and a splendid embassy to London, i)ro-
poslng to the duke of York to steal or kidnap the princess; but that Charles II.
was averse to the scheme, and had her guards doubled and great precautions
taken, and finished by marrying her suddenly to the prince." —
Secret History of
Whitehall, vol. i. 1678. There is not a particle of tliis tale corroborated hy
^,.„^,,::;!l|ii documentary history.
iii!!
iiiii!
1-i.n
MARY ir. 37
poor bride approved of the match, is a point that none of
these diplomatists think worth while to mention for her

it :
manner of receiving the news, we must refer to the unprinted

pages of her confidential friend and tutor, Dr. Lake. The I
announcement was made to Mary, October the 21st. "That
day," writes Dr. Lake, " the duke of York dined at White-
liall, and after dinner came to St. James's, (which was his
family residence). He led his eldest daughter, the lady

.? Fi
Mary, into her closet, and told her of the marriage designed
between her and the prince of Orange; whereupon her high-
ness wept all the afternoon, and all the following day.* The
next day the privy council carae to congratulate the yet
weeping bnde, and lord chancellor Finch made her a com-
plimentary speech. It appears that the prince shared in
these congratulations, and was by her side when they were
made. The day after, the judges complimented and congra-
tulated their affianced highnesses, —lord justice Rainsford
speaking to my lady Mary in the name of the rest ; after
which, they all kissed her hand."'-^ The poor princess, in
company with her betrothed, had several deputations to re-
ceive October 24th. These were the lord mayor and alder-
men, the civihans of Doctors' Commons, and the commercial
companies that her father had founded she had to hsten to :
speeches congratulatory on an event, for which her heart was

oppressed and her eyes still streaming. The citizens gave a
grand feast, to show their loyal joy at the pure protestantism
of this alliance ; her highnessi the bride, accompanied by her
sister the lady Anne, and her step-mother the duchess of
York, witnessed the civic procession from the house of sir

Edward Waldo, in Cheapside, where they sat under a canopy
of state, and afterwards partook of the lord mayor's banquet
at Guildhall, October 29.^
The marriage was appointed for the prince of Orange's

birthday, being Sunday, November the 4th, o. s. How
startled would have been the persons who assembled round
the altar, dressed in the bride's bedchamber in St. James's-
' Lake's MS. Diary. ^ Ibid.
' Life of Mary II.,1695: published at the Harrow, in Fleet-street. Sir

Irancis Cliaplin cosiiueiiCcd Lis luayoralty cu that day.
— ;
:
88 MARY II.
palace, could they have looked forward and been aware of

what was to happen on the eleventh anniversary of that
date !
' There were collected in the lady Mary's bedchamber
at nine o'clock at nijjht, to witness or assist at the cere-
mony, king Charles II., his queen Catharine, the duke of
York and his young duchess, Mary Beatrice of Modena,
who was then hourly expected to bring an heir to England
these, with the bride and bridegroom, and Compton bishop
of London, the bride's preceptor, who performed the cere-
mony, were all that were ostensibly present, the marriage
being strictly private. The official attendants of all these
distinguished personages were nevertheless admitted, forming
altogether a group sufficiently large for nuptials in a bed-
chamber. King Charles gave away the sad bride, and over-
bore her dejection by his noisy joviality. He hurried her to
the altar, saying to Compton, " Come, bishop, make aU the
haste you can, lest my sister, the duchess of York here,
should bring us a boy, and then the marriage will be disap-
pointed."'* Here was a slight hint tât he saw which way
the hopes of the Orange prince were tending. In answer
to the question, ''Who gives this woman?" king Charles
exclaimed with emphasis, " I do," which words were an in-
terpolation on the marriage service.^ When the prince of
Orange endowed his bride with all his worldly goods, he
placed a handfiil of gold and silver coins on the open book
king Charles told his niece "to gather it up, and to put
all in her pocket, for 'twas all clear gain!"'* After the
ceremony was concluded, the bride and the royal family
received the congratulations of the court and of the foreign
ambassadors, among whom Barillon, the French ambassador,
appeared remarkably discontented. Sir Walter Scott cer-
tainly never saw Dr. Lake's manuscript, but by some poetical
divination he anticipated Charles II.'s behaviour that night,
when, in his Marmion, he affirms
" Queen Katharine's hand the stocking threw.
And hluff king Hal the curtain drew;"
• When William of Orange invaded England, and dethroned hiu uncle and
father-in-law, James II. « Lake's MS. Diary.
I ; i
» Lake's MS. Diarv. Life of Mary II. : 1695, < Ibid.
MARY 11. 39
for at eleven the prince and princess of Oranfi^c retired to

rest, and allthe ceremonies took place which were then
national.' These were breaking cake and drinking possets,
in who assisted at the marriage
the presence of all those :
I
king Charles drew the curtains with his own royal hand, and
departed, shouting "St. George for England!" The next
morning the prince of Orange, by his favourite, Bentinck,
sent his princess a magnificent gift of jewels to the amount Si
of 40,000/. The lord mayor came with congratulations to

the prince and princess of Orange, and the same routine
of compliments from the high officials that had waited on the
princess previously, now were repeated to her on account
of her marriage.
was so highly popular in Scotland,
This Protestant alliance
that it was celebrated with extraordinary and quaint festi-
vities, being announced with great pomp by the duke of
Lauderdale at Edinburgh, at the town Mercat-rross, which

was hung with tapestry, and embellished with an arbour
formed of many hundreds of oranges. His grace, with the
lord provost, and as many of the civic magistrates and great
nobles as it could hold, ascending to this hymeneal temple,

entered it, and there drank the good healths of their high-
nesses the prince and princess ; next, of their royal highnesses
the duke and duchess of York, then the queen's, and last of
all the king's, during, which the cannon played from the
castle, all the conduits from the cross ran with wine, and
. 1
many voiders of sweetmeats were tossed among the people,
who were loud and long in their applauses. Great bonfires
were kindled as in London, and the popular rejoicings were
prolonged till a late hour.^
Two days after the marriage, the bride was actually disin-
herited of her expectations on the throne of Great Britain
' Barbaroiis and uncivilized as these ceremonials were, in a MS. letter kindly
communicated by Mrs. Shikeltliorp of Wendling, in Norfolk, of the late lady

Anne Hamilton, (widow of lord Anne Hamilton, and one of the ladies of queen
Charlotte,) she notices that his majesty George III. and his queen were the first
royal pair nmn-ied in England for whom these joyous uproars were not prepared
on their bridal evening. Horace Walpole ftilly confirms the same, by his account
of the wedding of Frederick prince of Wales, father of George III.
2 Life of Mary II. : 1695.
40 MAIIY 11.
by the of a brother, who seemed sprip^htly, and Hkrly

birtli
to live. The prince of Orange had the conipUmcnt paid him

of standing sponsor to this unwelcome relative when it was
baptized, November the 8th. The lady-governess Villicrs
stood godmother by proxy for one of her eharges, the young
prineess Isabella. The ill-humour of the prince of Orange
now became sufficiently visible to the courtiers as for his ;
unhappy bride, she is never mentioned by her tutor Dr. Lake

excepting as in tears. She had, when married, and for some
days afterwards, an excuse for her sadness, in the alanuing
illness of her sister lady Anne, whom at that time she pus-
sionately loved. Lady Anne not
as being present
is named
at her an absence that is unaccounted for
sister's nuptials,
i: ii !
excepting by Dr. Lake, who says, " her highness the lady
Anne, having been sick for several days, appeared to have the
smallpox."' She had most likely taken the infection Avheu
visiting the city. " I was commanded," added Dr. Lake,
" not to go to her chamber to read prayers to her, because of
my attendance on the princess of Orange, and on the other
children :" these were lady Isabella, and the new-born
Charles, who could have dispensed with his spiritual exhorta-
tions. " This troubled me," he resumes, " the more, because
the nurse of the lady Anne was a very busy, zealous Koman-
catholic, and would probably discompose her highif it sue ,
had an opportunity; wherefore, November 11th, I waited on

the lady governess, [lady ranees Villiers,] and suggested
i'
this to her. She bade me 'do what I thought fit.' But

little satisfied with what she said to me, T addressed myself
to the bishop of London,'^ who commanded me to wait

constantly on her highness lady Anne, and to do all suitable
offices ministerial incumbent on me."

The parental tenderness of the duke of York had enjoined
that all communication must be cut oflF between his daugh-
ters, lest the infection of this plague of smallpox should be
communicated to the princess of Orange, as if he had antici-
» Lake's MS. Diary, Nov. 7.

' Compton, bishop of London, who was governor or preceptor to tlie
princesses.
MARY ir. II
natcd how wus one day to be to her. Dr. Lake was

ffttal it
not pcrniitted, if lie continued his attendance on the prin-

cess Anne, to see the princess of Oran{:;e. " I thought it my
duty,"' he says, " before I went to her hij^hness lady Anne,
to take my leave of the princess, who desi<i;ned to depart for
Holland with her husbaiul the Friday next. I perceived
her eyes full of tears, and herself very disconsolate, not only I i
for her sister's illness, but on account of the prince urging
her to remove lier residence to Whitehall, to which the

'
ni
princess would by no means be persuaded." The reason
the prince wished to quit St. James's was, because the small-
pox was raging there like a plague. Not only the lady
Anne of York, but lady Villiers and several of the duke's
household were sickening with tliis fatal disorder; yet the
disconsolate bride chose to run all risks, rather than quit
her father one hour before she had to commence lier un-
welcome banishment.
Dr. Lake tried his reasoning powers to convince the prin-
cess of Orange of the propriety of this measure, but in vain.
He then took the opportunity of preferring a request con-

ccning hisown interest. " I had the honour to retire with
her to her closet," continues Dr. Lake,^ " and I call God to
witness, that I never s;iid there, or elsewhere, any thing
contrary to the holy bcriptures, or to the discipline of the
church of England hoped that the things in which I
; and I
had instructed her might remain with her. I said, * I
still
had been with her seven years, and that no person who
hath lived so long at court but did make a far greater ad-
vantage than I have done, having gotten but 100/. a-year;
wherefore I did humbly request her highness that, at her
departure, she would recommend me to the king and the
hisliop of London, and that I would endeavour to requite
I
the favour by being very careful of the right instruction of
the lady Anne, her sister, of whom I had all the assurances
in the world that she would be very good. Finally, I wished
» Lake's MS. Diary.

^ Ibid. On that very day Dr. Lake mentions that he had completed his
thirty-lifth year.
I
42 MARY II.
her highness all prosperity, and that God would bless her,
and show her favour in the sight of the strange people

among whom she was going/ Whereupon I kneeled down,
and kissed her gown. Her highness of Orange gave me
thanks for all my kindnesses, and assured me ' that she
would do all that she could for me.* She could say no more
for excessive weeping. So she turnel her back, and went
into her bedroom,"
" At three o'clock I went to the lady Anne, and, consi-
dering her distemper, found her very well, without head-
ache, or pain in her back, or fever. I read prayers to her."
This was on Sunday, November the 11th, the princess of
I! \i
Orange having been married a week. Notwithstanding all
the remonstrances of her husband, and her own danger of
infection, the bride carried her point, and clave to her pa-
ternal home at St. James's-palace to the last moment of her

stay in England. Meantime, the duke of York kept her
from seeing her sister Anne, who became worse from day to
day as the disease approached its climax. " Her highness,
lady Anne,** says Dr. Lake, " was somewhat giddy, and very
much disordered she requested me not to leave her, and re-
;
commended to me the care of her foster-sister's instruction

in the Protestant religion. At night I christened her nurse's
child, Mary.*"^ This was the daughter of the Roman-ca-
tholic nurse, of whom Compton bishop of London expressed
'.}"':
A
so much apprehension : how
came to permit the church-
she
of-England chaplain to christen her baby is not explained.
The fifteenth of November was the queen's birthday, which
was celebrated with double pomp, on account of her niece's
marriage. From Dr. Lake, it is impossible to gather the
slightest hint of the bridal costume, or of the dress of the
11 I bride, excepting that her royal highness attired herself for
that ball very richly, and wore all her jewels. She was very
1 sad; the prince, her husband, was as sullen. He never

spoke to her the whole evening, and his brutality was re-
!iU,
marked by every one there. Yet the artists and the poets
of England had combined to make that evening a scene of
Lake's MS. Diary. Ibid.
MARY II. 48
enchantment and delight. All seemed replete with joy and

mirth, excepting the disconsolate Mary, who expected that
she should have, before she retired to rest, to doflF her

courtly robes and jewels, and embark on board the yacht
that was to take her to Holland. On this account, the

officials of the household of her father, and those of her own
maiden establishment in England, were permitted to kiss
her hand at the ball, and to take leave of her, which they
did at eight o'clock in the evening.'
The epithalamium of this wedlock was from the pen of
[the courtly veteran. Waller, and was sung that night
:
" As once the lion honey gave.

Out of the strong such sweetness came,
A royal hero*no less brave,
—
Produced this sweet this lovely damc.^
To her the prince* that did oppose
Gaul's mighty armies in the field.
And Holland from prevailing foes
Could so well free, himself does yield.
Not Belgia's fleets (liis high command)

Which triumph where the sim does rise,
Nor all the force he leads by land.
Could guard him from her conquering eyes.
Orange with youth experience has.
In action young, in council old.
Orange is what Augustus was,
Brave, wary, provident, and bold.
On that fair tree* which bears liis name.

Blossoms and fruit at once are foimd
In him we all admire the same.
His flowery youth with wisdom crowned.
Thrice happy pair ! so near allied
In roypl blood, and virtue too.
Now Love has you together tied.
May none the triple knot undo."
The wind that night setting in easterly, gave the poor
Ibride a reprieve, and she in consequence remained by the
Ipaternal side all the next day, November the 16th, in the
Ihome-palace of St. James. The perversity of the wind did
[not ameliorate the temper of her husband; he was exces-
' Lake's MS. Diary. * James duke of York.
* Mary, his daughter. * WiUiam of Orange. !<:-. 9fg^r,iiB*.iM ,
4 i
° The orange-tree was the device of WiUiam, orange and green his liveries.
;ji
44 MARY II.
sively impatient of remaining in England to witness the con-
tinuance of and rejoicing. '^This day,"

festivities, dan^'.ng,
says Dr. Lake, " the court began to whisper of the sullen-
ness and clownishness of the prince of Orange. It was I
observed that he took no notice of his bride at the plav,

nor did he come to see her at St. James's the day before I
their departure." Dr. Lake, and the indignant household of

the princess at St. James's, it seems, blamed this conduct
as unprovoked brutality but that the prince was not aiigiy
;
without cause is obvious. Being secretly exasperated at

the unwelcome birth of Mary's young brother, he was not
inclined, as his marriage bargain was much depreciated in
value, to lose the beauty of his young bride as well as lier
kingdom ; he was displeased, and not unjustly, at her obsti-
nacy in continuing to risk her life and charms of person,
surrounded by the infection at the palace of St. James.
The maids of honour of the qveen, the duchess of York,
and especially of the princess '., were enraged at the
. I
rude behaviour of the Dutch ^x-iôe. They spoke of him

at first as the " Dutch monster," tUl they found for him the
name of " Caliban," a sobriquet which lady Anne, at least, |
never forgot.'
The lady Anne being dreadfully iU during the days wlienj
her sister's departure hung on the caprice ol the wind, the
paternal care of the duke of York deemed that any farewell
between his daughters would be dangerous for each. He
gave orders, that whenever the princess of Orange actually
went away, the fact was to be carefully concealed from Anne,
lest it should have a fatal effect on her.'^ The palace of
St. James was still reeking with infection several of the offi-:
cial attendants of the ducal court were dying or dead. The I
lady governess, Frances Villiers, was desperately ill: she|

was to have accompanied the princess of Orange on her voy-
age, but it was impossible.^ Dr. Lake thus enumerates,!
with a foreboding heart, the disasters accompanying this
marriage: "There were many unlucky circumstances that|
' Letters of the princess Anne to lady Marlborough.
2 Dr. Lake's MS. Diary. ' Ibid.
•iî&i'.
—
;
MARY ir. 45
did seem to retard and embitter the departiire of the prin-

cess of Orange, —
as the sickness of the lady Anne, the dan-
Iger of the lady governess, [Villiers,] who was left behind

and her husband, [sir Edward Villiers,] the master of the
horse to the princess of Orange, he too was obliged to stay
in Mr. Hemlock, her
England; likewise the sudden death of
which happened at St. James's-palace this
nurse's father,
night; the death and burial of the aichbishop of Canterbury,

her godfather;^ the illness of Mrs. Trelawney's^ father and
uncle; as also Mrs. White's dangerous illness, who was ap-
pointed to attend the princess of Orange in Holland. God
[preserve her highness, and make her voyage and abode there
prosperous !"^
The wind blew westerly on the morning of the 19th of
[November, and in consequence every one was early astir in
the palaces of Whitehall and St. James, in preparation for
the departure of the Orange bride and bridegroom. The
princess took leave of her beloved home of St. James, and
came to Whitehall-palace as early as nine in the morning,
to bid farewell to her royal aunt queen Catharine. Mary,
when she approached, was weeping piteously, and her ma-
jesty, to comfort her, " told her to consider how much better
j
[her case was than her own; for when she came from Portu-
gal, had
she not even seen king Charles." " But, madam," —
rejoined the princess of Orange, " remember, you came into
England; I am going out of England." "The princess —
wept grievously all the morning," continues Dr. Lake;.*
" She requested the duchess of Monmouth
to com^ "ten to
see the lady Anne, her sister, and
accompany her to the
to
chapel the first time she appeared there. She also left two
letters to be given to her sister as soon as she recovered."
What a contrast is this tender heart-clinging to her family,
to Mary's conduct after ten years' companionship with the
partner to whom her reluctant hand had been given !
' Sheldon, arclibishop of Canterbury, died November 9th, and was buried at
Croydon on Nov. 16th, by the side of archbisliop Whitgift, at his own desire.
j
I
Dr. Lake.
Anne Trelawney, the favoiirite maid of honour of the princess Mary, was
'
with her two «'ea'"> afti5».«roi.rio ;n Hniionfi us/in.xr ii;nn<r
' Dr. Lake's Diary, Nov. 16. * Ibid.

46 MARY II.
The wind was fair for Hollaii'' the tide served, the royal
barges were in waiting at Whitti and king Charles ixl-stairs,
and the duke of York were read/, with most of the nobility
and gentry in London, to accciapany the princess and her hus.
band down the river as far as Erith, where the bridal party I
were to dine.' Here Mary took a heart-rending farewell

of her father and uncle, and in the afternoon she embarked
at Grave send with her husband and suite in one of the royal
yachts, several EngUsh and Dutch men-of-war being in|
attendance to convoy the gay bark to Holland. The cele-
brated poet, Nat Lee, describes the embarkation in his poem I
on the marriage and departure of the princess of Orange;

and as he declares that he was an eye-witness of the scene,
;t is possible that the parties grouped themselves according!
to his lines. Yet it is as evident that he irgw nothing of

the dangerous illness of the princess Anne ; that must have
been kept from the public, for he supposes that she was pre-
sent. The following are the best of the lines of this now-
forgotten historical poem :
" Hail happy warrior,

! hail ! whose arms have won
The fairest jewel of the English crown
Hail ! princess, hail ! thou tairest of thy kind.
Thou shape of angel with an angel's mind
* * # *
But hark 'tis rumoured that this happy pair
!
Must go the prince for Holland does declare.

:
I saw them liuinch the prince the princess bore.

:
While the satl court stood crowding on the shore.

The prince, still bowing, on the deck did stand.
And held his weeping consort by the hand.
Which, waving oft, slie bade them all farewell.
And wept as if she would the briny ocean swell,
' Farewell, thou best of fa;;herB, best of friends !*
Wliile the grieved duke* with a deep sigh commends

To heaven his child, in tears his eyes would swim.
But manly virtue stays them at the brim.
'Farewell,' she cried, my sifter!* thou
' dear part.
The sweetest half of my divided heart
My little love !'
—her sighs slie did renew
^^
'
Once more, oh, heavens a long, a last adieu. !
Part must I ever lose those pretty charms?'

!
Then swoons and shiks into the prince's arms."*
1i|:^' • Dr. Lake : likewise Echard. * The duke of York, her father.
' The princess Anne. Lee evidently supposes that she was present, instsffi | )r. Lake and th(
of being, as she really was, on a bed of sickness at St. James's-palace.
1
:îlllill
MARY II. 47
This is somewhat Dommon-place, and the theatiical farewell
to the lady Anne the sheer invention of the poet. Other

thoughts than those surmised by Nat Lee were working in
[the brain of Orange.
The duke of York ought to have seen his son-in-law safely

[out of the kingdom, for before William of Orange actually
departed, he contrived to play him one of the tricks by
'which he finally supplanted him in the affectiouo of the
English people. The wind changed by the time the Dutch
fleet had dropped down and remained contrary
to Sheerness,
14
for thirty At the end of this time the king
or forty hours.
land duke of York sent an express to entreat the prince and
Iprincess to come up the river, and remain with them at
IWhitehall ; instead of which they went on shore at Sheer-

Iness, and were entertained by colonel Dorrell, the governor.
[The next day, November the 23rd, they crossed the country
[to Canterbury, the princess being accompanied only by lady
jinchiquin (one of the Villiers' sisters) and a dresser ; the

[prince by his favourites, Bentinck and Odyke. Here an
[extraordinary circumstance took place one witness vouches
j;
["that his authority was no other than the mouth of arch-

bishop TiUotson himself, from whose narration it was written
[down."'
—
"The prince and princess of Orange, when they
[arrived afc an inn in Canterbury, found themselves in a des-
Ititute condition for want of cash, as they had been unkindly
land secretly thrust out of London by king Charles and the
Iduke of York, from jealousy lest the lord mayor should in-
jvite them to a grand civic feast.'^ The prince, to relieve his
rants, sent Bentinck to represent them to the corporation,
md beg a loan of money." It is very plain that the corpora-

tion of Canterbury considered the whole application as a
[case of mendicity or fictitious distress, for the request was
denied. However, there happened to be present Dr. TiUot-
son, the dean, of Canterbury, who hurried home, gathered
together all the plate and ready-money in guineas he had at
' Echard's Appendix arid Tindal'a Notes to Rapin; the latter, a contem-
orary, adcU many aggravating
circumstanceo, all false.
" Tliatthey had already been to this grand feast, October 29, we lei m from i'hi
[)r. Lake and the Gazette,
48 MARY II
command, and bringing them to the inn, begged an inter-

view with M. Bentinck, and presented them to him, " with
the hope that they would be serviceable to their highnesses ;"
entreating, withal, that they would quit a situation so un-
*'
worthy of their rank, and come to stay at the deanery, wliicli

was usually the abode of all the royal com^^'iy that came to
the city."^ The prince accepted the plate and money with
warm thanks, but declined going to the deanery. Dr. Tillot.
son was presented, and kissed the hand of the princess. In
this hospitable transaction no blame can be attached to Dr,
Tillotson, whose conduct was becoming the munificence of|
the church he had entered.^ Why the prince of Orange did
not request a loan or supply by the express that his uncles
sent to invite him affectionately back to Whitehall, instead |
of presenting himself and his princess in a state of com-

plaining mendicity at Canterbury, is inconsistent with plain
dealing. As he had been paid the first instalment of the
40,000/. which was the portion of the princess, his credit was
good in England. The fact is, that the birth of the young
brother of Mary had rendered this ambitious politician des-
j
perate,and he was making a bold dash at obtaining partisans,

by representing himself as an ill-treated person. Nor were I
his efforts ultimately fruitless, if the following statement of|
' This feature of the story is preserved by Birch, the biographer of Tillotson,
and not by Echard or Tindal.

* Dr. Tillotson is, from the period of this adveature. intimately conneetod I
with the fortunes of the princess of Orange; therefore, for the sake of intelligi-
bility, the following abstract of his previoiis life is presented. He was the son
of a rich clothier of Sowerby, near Halifax, who was a strict puritan at the time
of John Tillotson's birth, and became a ftirious anabaptist, which he remained,
even after his son had conformed to our church on her restoration to prosjwrity.
John Tillotson was born October 23, 1630; he became a learned and eloquent j
man, he was gootl-tempered, and much Moved in private life. It is nearly im-
possible to gather from his biography whether he had been a dissenting preacher,
but as it is certain that he preached before ordination, doubtless he was so. Tiie I
religion of Tillotson, before the Restoration, was of that species professed by

independents who are on good terms with the Socinians. He was chaplain mid
tutor to the sons of Prideaux, attorney-general of Oliver Cromwell. Tillotson |
subsequently married Ebina Wilkins, a niece of Oliver Cromwell. When up-

wards of 20U0 c(mscientiou8 nonconformists forsook their livings rather than I
comply with the tenets of the church of England, our church actually gained
John Tillotson, who, being possessed of great eloquence, attained rapid prttiv-
ment, until he is found dean of Canterbury, in 1G77. This account is abstracted |
aphy of archbishop Tillotson.

MARY II. 49
a contemporary be correct, and all circumstances corrobo-

rate it.
" By this accident, Dr. Tillotson begun that lucky
I
acquaintance and correspondence with the prince and prin-

cess of Orange and M. Bentinck, as afterwards advanced
him to an archbishopric.'^^ IS'
The prince and princess of Orange lingered no less than

four days at their inn in Canterbury, cultivating the acquaint-
ance of their new friend Dr. Tillotson, and receiving the con-
gratulations of the gentry and nobility of Kent, in whose
I
eyes VVilUam seemed sedidously to render himself an object

of pity and distress, for great quantities of provisions were
given by them for his use. He left Canterbury, November

the 27th, »nd went that night with the princess and her train
\m
I
on board the Montague at Margate, commanded by sir John
Holmes, who set sail the next day. The ice prevented the
I
fleet from entering the Maes, but the princess and her spouse,
after a quick but stormy passage, were landed at Tethude, a
town on the Holland coast, and went direct to the
Houns-
larlyke-palace. was remarked, that the princess of
It
Orange was the only female on board who did not suffer
irom sea-sickness.^ The princess, besides lady Inchiquin,
I
(Mary Villiers,) was accompanied by Elizabeth and Anne
Villiers : the mother of these sisters, her late governess, ex-
pired of the smallpox at St. James' s-palace before the prince
of Orange had finished his mysterious transactions at Canter-
bm-y.^ The princess had likewise with her, in the capacity
of maid of honour, Mary Wroth, or Worth, a relative of the
Sidney family. Each of these girls disquieted her married
life. Both the unmarried Villiers were older than herself,
and she was eclipsed in the eyes of her sullen lord by their
jmaturer charms. The prince of Orange fell in ]ov(; with
Elizabeth Villiers, and scandal was likewise afloat relative to
him and her sister Anne, who subsequently married his
favourite, Bentinck. Much wonder is expressed by lady
[Mary Wortley Montague, and likewise by Swift, who were
• Tlapin'3 Hist, of England, folio, vol. ii. p. G83.
2 Dr. Lake's MS. Diary.
» Birch's Life of Tillotson. Dr. Lake's MS. Sidney Diary.
VOL. VII. £
50 MARY II.
both her acquaintances, how it was possible for Elizabetli
Villiers to rival the princess Mary in the heart of her spouse,

for Elizabeth, although a fine woman, had not a handsome
face. " I always forget myself, and talk of squinting people
before her," says Swift, in his journal j " and the good lady
squints hke a dragon."
As soon as possible after the arrival of the princess of I
Orange at the Hounslardyke-palace, the States- (xeneral of
HoUand sent their hoff-master, Dinter, to compUment her
and the prince, and to ascertain " when would be season-

it
able forthem to offer their congratulations in a formal man-

ner ?" The prince and princess did not make their public
entry into the Hague until December the 14th, so long were
the mynheers preparing their formalities, which were per-
petrated with extraordinary magnificence. Twelve companies I
of burghers were in arms, drawn up under their respective
ensigns; and the bridge of the Hague was adorned with
green garlands, under which was written a Latin inscription

in honour of the illustrious pair, of which the following is our
author's English version :
" Hail, sacred worthy blest in that rich bed.

!
At once thy Mary and thy Belgia wed

And long, long live thy fair Britannic bride.
Her Orange and her country's equal pride !"
Having passed the bridge, they were met by four-and-twenty I
virgins, who walked two-and-two on each side their high-|

nesses* coach, singing and strewing green herbs all the way.
When their highnesses came before the town-house, they I
passed through a triumphal arch, adorned with foliage and
grotesco work, with the arms of both their highnesses ; and

liiiiii
over them two hands, with a Latin motto, thus rendered in I
English :
" Wliat halcyon airs this royal Hymen sings !
The olive-branch of peace her dower she brings."
In the evening, Mary was welcomed with a grand display of I
fireworks, in which were represented St. George on horse-

back, fountains, pyramids, crcitles, triumphal chariots, Jupiter]
and Mars descending from the skies, a lion, a duck andi

;;i:llintiiiii<ii
drake (emblematic, we suppose, of dykes and canals), and a I
MARY II. 61
variety of other devices, in honour of this auspicious alliance.

The next day the heer Van Ghent, and a variety of other
heers,whose Dutch names would not be of much interest to \> I
British readers, complimented their highnesses in the name
of the States- General.' Though Mary's chief residence and

prircipal court in Holland was at the Hague, yet she had
several other palaces, as Loo, Hounslardyke, and Dieren.
Louis XIV. took the marriage heinously; for many months
he would not be reconciled to his cousin-german the duke of
York ; " for," wrote he to that prince, " you have given your
daughter to my mortal enemy." This was not the fault of
the duke of York, for lord Dartmouth records an anecdote
that the duke, on first hearing of this marriage, or perhaps
after seeing the tearful agonies of Mary when she heard her
doleful sentence of consignment to her cousin, remonstrated
with his brother by a confidential friend, reminding his
majesty that he had solcianly promised never to give away
Mary without he, her father, gave his full consent to her
marriage. " So I did, it's true, man " exclaimed Charles,
!
j
with his characteristic humour ; " but, odd'a-fibu James must !
I
consent to this
> Life of Mary II.: 1695.
'•
f :il
E 2
MARY 11.
QUEEN-REONANT OP GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.
CHAPTER II.
Convalescence of lu<ly Anne —Her father breaks to her the departure of lur
—Takes
sister possession of her sister's apartments at St. James's — Doatli of
her brother —News of the princess of Oraniê — Relapses Sunday card-

into
III — Attends
play in<? disscntin<.^ preacliinps First — conununion of lady Anne—
—
Her strange conduct Anne's favourite Lidy, Airs. Cornwallis, banislu'd—
Anne's love for Mrs. Churchill — Princess of Orange, her court at tlvj Hague
— Her chnpcl and Dr. Hcwper— Prince of Orange her persecutes religion-
Objects her books — His
to her — of her
unfaithi'ulness to Visit step-inother
and lady Anne — — Her
I
the
Illness of and
princess father his cousort visit her
—Her tender parting with them — Her conjugal — and troubles Princess tlip
French ambassador — Ken

Princess causes Mary to unirry VVôrth to Ziilcstein
—Rage of the — prince Ken —

Insults. Dr. him Princess entreats to stay— I
Seclusionof the — Residence of the lady Anne her

princess at uncle's court—
Her prospectsof the — — Prince George of Hanover,
succession Suitors (George
I.)—His visither — His
to —Mortifying retreat — Her anger— reports Visits
her Scotland — Her

father in Mulgrave —Marriage
love for lord Anne of with
prince George of — Mrs. Churchill

Denniiirk Apjioints her household- to
Lonely the
life of of Orange — Palace
jirincess —Mourning restraint on the
anniveraary of Charles death — I.'sof her husband — Her

Insults — grief Final
subjugation — Enlargement from —Attentions Monmouth —

restraint^ to Her
— Skates and dances with Monmouth— Death her

|
gaiety of uncle, (Charles II,)
—Accession of her (James — His

father, her and her
II.) letters to husl)and—
Dr. report
Covell's the of —l)eep
i)rincess's ill-treatment
the grief of priiic«
—Departure of the maid, Anne Trelawney — Sympathy

princess's favourite of
the the
princess for French Protestants — Coniugal alarms
suffering of the
IP
—
princess body-guards
Solicits the — PrincessV sharp answer
for prince to W.
Penn — Prince of Orange requests a pension for her — Jaiues II. refuses.
When it was certain that the princess of Orange Avas safely
across the stormy seas, the (hike of York himself undertook to

break to the lady Anne the fact that her sister was actually!
gone, which he expected to prove heart-rending to her; per-
haps he over-rated the vivacity of the sisterly affection, for tk I
lady Anne "took the intelligence very patiently.' He had

HI daily visited her in her sick chamber, and had taken the pains]
liiiii
' Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, December 1st.
'!
1 I
M
MARY H. 68
to spnrl from tlioneo mossap;cs as

if the princess of Orange
were still hviw^ apprelicnsive lest the knowledge

in Enjiflaiid,
of her departure shouhl give a fatal turn to the malady of

the invalid. The duke might have spared himself the trouble lil
of his fatherly caution : the lady Anne, being installed in the

superior suite of apartments which her elder sister had en-
joyed at St. James's,' Avas perfectly reconciled to the decrees
of destiny. " Two days after the return of the royal yacht
whicli had attended the bride to Holland," writes Dr. Lake,
"the lady Ainic went forth of her chamber, all her servants tr
1.
rejoicing to see her perfectly recovered." She went directly ' I'l
to visit iier step-mother, the duchess of York, who was not

recovered from her confinement.
The lady Anne had previously requested Dr. Lake to
return thanks to God, in her chamber, for her recovery, and
at tliis service had given, as her offering, two guineas for
distribution among the poor.^ This modest gift, as a thank-
offering for mercies received, is probably an instance of the
very obscure point of the offertory of our church according
to its discipline had
before the Revolution, for the princess
not completed her fourteenth year, and by Dr. we find,
Lake's testimony, that she had not yet communicated. The
day on which she thus religiously celebrated her recovery
was an awful one, for her governess, lady Frances Villiers,
expired of the same malady from which she was just conva-
lescent. Dr. Lake makes no mention of the grief of Anne
for this loss, but merely observes that in the ly part of (
December all the court were gossiping as to who should be

the viccessor of lady Frances Villiers. The lady Anne ap-
peared in a few days, perfectly recovered, at St. James's
chapel. The death of the infant brother, whose birth had so
inopportunely interfered with the sweetness of the Orange
I
honey-moon, took place on December 12th his demise ren- :
dered the princess Mary again heiress-presumptive to the

British throne.
The earliest intelligence from Holland of the princess of

Orange, gave great pain to her anxious but too timid tutor.
Dr. Lake, who thus expresses his concern at her relapse into
' Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, Dec. 4th. « Ibid., Dec, 10th.
64 MAKY n.
her former evil habit of Sunday card-playing :' "I was very
sorry to understand that the princess of Oranjiê, since her
bein}^ in Holland^ did sometimes play at cards upon the;
Sundays, which would doubtless give ofl'ence to that people."
He then mentions his efforts to eradicate that bad custom of
the princess in Enj^land, which he had thouj^ht were sue-
cessful, since she had abstained from the wrong he had
pointed out for two years. How soon the princess of Oran;,'c
returned to this detestable practice may be judged, since she

only England the 28th of November, and Dr. Lake
left
records her Sunday gamblings January l)th, scarcely six

weeks afterwards. He was astonished that she did nut re-
quire his services as her chaplain in Holland, or those of
Dr. Doughty. The inveteracy of the prince of Orange as
a gambler,* and the passion of his princess for card-playin;;,

combined with the certainty of the remonstrances of the
church-of-Enghand clergymen, might liave been the reason.
At first, on account of the enmity of the prince to the
church of Eughuid, no chapel was provided, although an
ecclesiastical establishment had been stipulated for the prin-
cess. Dr. Lloyd, the chaplain, who had accompanied the
princess Mary from England, was reeaUed by the end of
Januaiy; he had greatly displeased the primate of the churcli
of England, by sanctioning the princess's frequenting a con-
gregation of dissenters at the Hague.' It had been more
consistent with his clerical character, if he had induced her
to suppress her Sunday gambling parties. He is said, by
Burnet, to have held a remarkable conversation with the j
princess during her voyage from England, when expressing

his surprise to her that her father had suffered her to he
educated out of the pale of the Roman-catholic church. She
iiiiii
assured him that her father never attempted in one instance
to shake their religious principles.'* >
1 Dr. Lake's Diary, Jan. 9th, previously quoted, at the time when the prin-
cess first gave her tutor uneasiness, by falling into this sin at her commencement |
of public life.
* See various passages in Lamhertj', who mentions the enormous losses or I
gains of his prince at the basset-table, but, like most foreigners, without tin |
slightest idea that such conduct was at the same time evil in itself, and luuuiiit-
ably pernicious as example to nn iitiitative people like the English.
illitl'l!
« Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, Jan. 28. * ^Burnet's MSS., Harlcian Col. 6584.
II
\a&
MATIY ir. 66
Just before Easter, the younj? princo88 Anne was confinncd

in royal state at the chapel of Whitehall by her preceptor,
Conipton bishop of London : her first ronimiinion took place
on Kuster- Sunday. Her tutor, Dr. Lake, {fives the following
account of the extraordinary manner in which she conducted
herself. " Being lilaster-day, for the first time the lady Anne
received the sacrament; the bishop of Exeter preached at
St. James's [chapel] , and consecrated. Through negligence,
her liij?hness was not instructed liow much to drink, but
drank of it [the cup] thrice ; whereat 1 was much concerned,
lest the duke of York, her fnthcr, should have notice of it."
*
The gross negligence of which Dr. Lake complains, must

have been the fault of Anne's prece])tor, Comptoii bishop of
London, whose thoughts were too busy with polemics to
attend to the proper instruction of his charge. Her un-
seemly conduct reflects the gr. atcst possible disgrace on the
prelate, whose duty it was io have prepared Iut for the
reception of this solemn rite, and on whom a greater degree

of responsibility tha i ordinary devolved, on account of her
father's unhappy secession from the communion of the
church of England. Dr. Lake was disgusted with the mis-

take of the young communicant, —
not because it was wrong,
but lest her Roman-catholic father should be informed of it.
He was previously troubled at the relapse of the princess of
Orange into her former sins of passing the Sabbath at the
card-table, — not because he allowed that it was sin, but lest
the Dutch people might be offended at it Few persons !
have any salutary influence over the hearts and characters

of thei^ i('*'ow-creatures, whose reprehension of wrong does
not spring from loftier motives. Yet he had done his duty
more conscientiously than any other person to whom the
education of these princesses was committed: he had re-
proved the bad habits of his pupils sufficiently to give lasting
offence to them. Although he lived to see each of them
queen-regnant, and head of the church, they left him with
as little preferment as he had received from their father and
uncle: had he told them the truth with the unshrinking

firmness of Ken or Sancroft, they could but have done the
» Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, Mareli 31st.

56 MARY II.
same.* Notwithstanding the error into which the young

communicant had fallen/'^ Dr. Lake wrote to the princess of
|
Orange, " to inform lier that her sister had received the holy
sacrament/' as if the lady Anne had conducted herself so as
to edify, instead of disgusting every one. Again he was
blameable, since, if he had mentioned the circumstance he
disliked to the princess, a sister could have reprehended the
unfortunate mistake with delicacy and affection.

Dr. Hooper was recommended as the princess of Orange's
almoner by the archbishop of Canterbury; he was a primitive
apostolical man, greatly attached to the church of England,
according to its discipline established at the dissemination of
our present translation of Scripture.^ On his arrival in Hoi-

laud, he found the princess without any chapel for divine
service;and her private apartments were so confined, that
she had no room that could be converted into one, excepting
' ' The Diary of Dr. Lake, wliich has been of such inestimable advantage in
showing the early years of the two regnant queens, Mary and Anne, has been
preserved in MS. by his descendants. Echard has quoted from it, but has
falsely garbled it. The author of tliis biography again returns thanks to Mr,
Eliot and Mr. Merrivale, for facilitating her access to its contents. According
to a note appendetl to Mr. Eliot's copy, Dr. Edward Lake was born in 1672,
and was the son of a clergyman resident at Exeter: he was a scholar of Wadhaia
college, Oxford. Afterwards, Antîony Wood says, " he migrated to Cambridge,
where he took his degree in arts, and receivetl orders." He became chaplain and
tutor to the daughters of the duke of York in 1G70. About 1676 he obtaiiieJ
the archdeaconry of Exeter: he was likewise rector of St. Mary-at-hill, and St.
Andrew's, in the city. The great mistake of Dr. liake's life wa.s, reporting a
false accusation against Suncrolt, archbishop ofCanterbury, which, according to

his Diary, January 7, 1678, had been communicated to him by Dr. Tillotson, wiio
was then dean of Canterbury, and tlie same person whose attentions to the dis-
tressed prince of Orange at Canterbury laid the foundation of his advancement
to the primacy, after the princess of Orange, as Mary II., had hurled Sancroft
from his archiepiscopal throne. Although Dr. Lake seems to have circulated
this scandal,he likewise reports many excellent traits of Sancroft. Somehow,
he had to bear the whole blame of the wrong.
2 Dr. Lake nmst have given personal offence to his pupils, or they would not
have neglected him he was not, like Ken, among those who refused to take the
:
oath of allegiance to either of them. His calumny on archbishop Sancroft would

not have intLrfered with his preferment after the deposition of that illustrious
man, and tl»e assumption of authority over the English church by his inibrmer.
Dr. Tillotson; yet he died without any preferment, in the reign of Anne, 170 1.
As he was in possession of his benefices, small as th..y were, he could not have
been a nonjuror.
' Hooper MS., copied and prcserxod by Mrs. A. Prouse, bishop Hooper's
daughter; in the jKJssession of sir John Mordauiit, of Walton, edited by tlic

hon. A. Trevor. Life of William III., vol. ii. pp. 465, 466.
MARY II. 67
her dining-room.
" Now the prince and princess of Orange
never ate together, for the deputies of the States-General
Dutch officers often dined with the prince, and they
and their
were no company for her. Therefore the princess, without
fit
regret, gave up her dining-room for the service of the church
of England, and ate her dinner every day in a small and very
dark parlour. She ordered Dr. Hooper to fit up the room
she had relinquished for her chapel when it was finished, her
:
highness bade him be sure and be there on a particular after-

noon, when the prince intended to come and see what was
done. Dr. Hooper was in attendance, and the prince kept his
appointment. The first thing noticed by the prince was, that
the communion-table was raised two steps, and the chair
where the princess was to sit was near it, on the same dais.
Upon which the prince, bestowing on each a contemptuous
kick, asked 'what they were for?' When he was told their
use, he answered M'ith an emphatic 'Hum!' When the
chapel was fit for service, the prince never came to it but
once or twice on Sunday evenings. The princess attended
twice a-day, being very careful not to make Dr. Hooper
wait."
The prince had caused books inculcating the tenets of the t* ;
"Dutch dissenters" to be put in the hands of his young

princess; those Dr. Hooper withdrew from her, earnestly
requesting her to be guided by him in her choice of theo-
logical authors. "One day the prince entered her apart-
ment, and found before her Eusebius, and Dr. Hooker's Ec-
clesiastical Polity, which last is allowed to be one of the
grandest literary ornaments of our church. While she was

deeply engaged in one of Hooker's volumes, the prince, in
'
commotion,' said angrily, * What I suppose
great ! it is Dr,
Hooper persuades ye to read such books?'"'
While the married life of the princess of Orange was thus
portentous of future troubles, her sister, the lady Anne of
York, led an easy life at St. James's, her only care being to
s'reno-then a power which was one day to rule her tyran-
nically in the person of her beloved Sarah Jennings. This
young lady declared, in the winter of 1677, that she
I
» Hooper MS.
58 MARY II.
had been espoused clandestinely to the handsome colonel

Churchill, the favourite gentleman of the duke of York.
Sarah was tender in years, but more experienced in world.
craft than many women are of thrice her age; she was, at
Wl the period of her marriage, in the service of the young
—
duchess of York, a circumstance which did not prevent
constant intercourse with the lady Anne, who lived under
the same roof with her father and step-mother. The ducliess
of York, at the entreaty of Anne, immediately undertook to
reconcile all adverse feelings towards this marriage among
the relatives, both of Churchill and Sarah, giving her attend-
ant a handsome donation by way of portion, and causing her
to be appointed to a place of trust about her person. When •
Sarah found herself on such firm footing in the household at

St. James's, her first manoeuvre was to get rid of Mrs. Corn-
I
' •!
wallis,'^ tha relative of the princess, by whom, it may be
remembered, she was first introduced at court, and who had

hitherto been infinitely beloved by her royal highness. Unfor-
tunately in that century, whensoever a deed of treachery was
to be enacted, the performer could always be held irrespon.
sible, if he or she could raise a cry of religion. Sarah knew,
as she waited on the duchess of York, what ladies in the
palace attended the private Roman-cathoUc chapel permitted
at St. James's for the duchess j being aware, by this means,
that Mrs. Cornwaliis was of that creed, she secretly denounced
her as a papist to bishop Compton, the preceptor of the lady
Anne of York. He immediately procured an order of council
forbidding Mrs. Cornwaliis ever to come again into the pre-
sence of the young princess. The privy council only acted
prudently in taking this measure, —a circumstance which

does not modify the utter baseness of the first political ex-
Sarah of Marlborough.
ploit recorded of the future duchess,
The lady Anne of York was now in possession of her adult
estabhshment, at her apartments in her father's palace her ;
aunt, lady Clarendon, was her governess. Barbara Villiers,

* Life of the Duke of Marlborough, by Coxe, vol. i. pp. 20-40. It is dis-
tinctly stated that this marriage took pluoe when Sarah was only fifteen.
'^
Lord Dartmouth's Notes to Uurnct's 0\vn Times. He gives no precise
date to this incident, excepting that it is among the current of events at tl.c era
of the death of archbishop Sheldon and the mai'riage of the princess Mary.
'M
MARY II. 5d
(the third daughter of her late governess,) now Mrs. Berkeley,

was her first lady, and if the beloved Sarah Churehill was not
actually inher serviee, the princess had, at least, the oppor-
nitv of seeing her every day. Anne's affection was not di-
rected by Mrs. Churchill to any wise or good purpose, for
she made no efforts to complete her own neglected educa-
tion; card-plajdng, at which she was usually a serious loser,
was the whole occupation of this pair of friends. Leaving
them in pursuit of this worthy object, our narrative returns
to the princess of Orange.
At the Hague, the princess found no less than three palaces.
The first (called the Hague in history) was a grand but rather
rugged gothic structure, built by a count of Holland in 1250,
moated round on three sides, and washed in front by the
Vyvier, (fish-preserve,) a lake-like sheet of water. This pa-
latial castle of the Hague was the seat of the stadtholdship,
aud recognised as such by the States-General: here their
several assemblies met, and the business of the republic was
transacted in its noble gothic halls. Mary seldom approached
the Hague, excepting on state occasions. She lived at the
Palace in the Wood, a very beautiful residence, about a mile
from the state palace, built as a place of retirement by the
grandmother of Yi'îlliam III. A noble mall of oak trees,
nearly a mile in length, led to the Palace in the Wood,
which was surrounded by a primeval oak forest, and by the
richest gardens in Europe. The prince of Orange built two
wings to the original structure on iLe occasion of his mar-
riage with the princess Mary. Tl.icre '.vas, near the Pal "o of
the Wood, a dower-palace, called the Old Court. The thi e
palaces were situated only an hour's walk from "the wi^^t
Scheveling coast." Over one of the moated drawbridges of
the gothic palace is built a gate, called the Scheveling gate,
which opened on a fine paved avenue, bordered with yew trees
carved into pyramids, leading to the sea- village of Scheveling.
Every passenger, not a fisherman, paid a small toll to keep up
this avenue.*
With the exception of the two Villiers, (who were soon
flisfinmno bed
by the prince of Oranare in preference to his
' Tour in Holland early in the last century.
60 MARY II.
young -wife,) none of the English ladies who had accompanied
the princess to her new home Mêre remarkably well satisfied

with their destiny. Sir Gabriel Silvius, whose wife was one 1
of them, gave a dismal account of the unhappiness of tlie

Enghsh ladies at the Hague. He observed to the resident
envoy of Charles II., " It is a pity the prince of Orange does
not use people better as for lady Betty Selboiu-ne, slie
:
complains and wails horribly." ^ If all the attendants of the

princess had so comported themselves, her royal highness
need not have been envied. As to what the prince of Orange
had done to lady Betty, we are in ignorance, and can enlighten
our readers no further than the fact of her " horrible wail.
ings." The princess herself was so happy as to have tlie
protection of lord Clarendon, her uncle, (who was ambassa-
dor at the Hague when his niece first arrived there). In
liis despatches he says, " The princess parted very unexpec-
tedly from her husband on March 1678.

1st, He had been
hunting all the morning, and as he came home to her palace
at the Hague to dinner, he received letters by the way tliat
occasioned his sudden departure, of which the princess said
' she had not the slightest previous intimation.' It was tiie
investment of Namur by the king of France that caused his
departure. The princess accompanied her husband as far as
Rotterdam, " where," says her uncle Clarendon, " there was
a very tender parting on both sides;" at the same time he
observes, " that he never saw the prince in such high spirits
or good humour."
The princess of Orange chose to make the tour of her
mnw watery dominions by way of the canals in her barge, Avhen

she amused herself with needlework, or played at cards with
her ladies, as they Avere tracked along the canals, or sailed
over the broads and lakes. Dr. Hooper accompanied her in
the barge, and when she worked, she always requested lu a
im to read to her and her ladies. One day she wished him to
read a French book to her, but he excused himself on account
of his defective pronunciation of French. The princess
begged him to read en, nevertheless, and she would tell him
when he was wronar. or at a loss. Hooner savs. " that while
' Sidney Diary, edited by R. W. Blencowe, esq., vol. i, p. 41.
MARY- TI. 61
he was in her household, about a year and a half, he never

heard her say or saw her do any one thing that he could
have wished she had not said or done." She was then only
between sixteen and seventeen. " She did not distinguish
anv of her ladies by particular favour, and though very
young, was a jrreat observer of etiquette, never receiving any
tiling or any message from persons whose office it was not to
deliver the same. She had great command over her women,
and maintained her authority by her prudence ; if there was
anv conversation she did not approve, they read by her grave
look that they had transgressed, and a dead silence ensued."
*
The princess suffered much from ill-health in Holland,

before she was acclimatized to the change of air. During
the same summer, she was in danger of her life from a severe
bilious fever: the prince of Orange was then absent from her
at the camp. When a favourable crisis took place, sir Wil-
ham Temple travelled to him, and brought the intelligence

that the princess was recovering ; he likewise gave the prince
information that the last instalment of her portion, 20,000/.,
would be paid to him speedily. The good news, either
of his wife or of her cash, caused the prince to manifest
unusual symptoms of animation, "for," observes sir William
Temple,^ "I have seldom seen him appear so bold or so
pleasant."
Mary, though ultimately childless, had more than once
a prospect of being a mother. Her disappointment was
announced to her anxious father, who immediately wrote to
his nephew, the prince of Orange, to urge her " to be care-
fuller of herseli' " and added, " he would write to her for the
same purpose: '

this letter is dated April 19, 1678. Soon
after, Mary again had hopes of bringing an heir or heiress
to Great Britain and Holland. If lord Dartmouth may be
believed, Mary's father had been purposely deceived in both
instance to answer some political scheme of the pn
. of
Orange. Mary was theL .; o young and too fond oi her
father to deceive him purposely; her licart, indeed, was not
• Hooper TiJS.
* Letter to lord Clarendon from the Hague, by sir W. ,;)le.
—
62 MARY II.
estranged from him and from her own family for the want
of opportunity of affectionate intercourse. After her reco-
very from typhus or bilious fever, an intermittent hung long
upon h«r : her father thought it best to send his wife, Mary
Beatrice, \ntb th* •()rincess Anne, to see her, and to cheer
her spLrits. The visi ; of these princesses was thus announced
to her Ir.ubii:; I by êr iVther, who was about to accom-
m pany his brother, diaries II., to the October Newmarket

meecmg :
"Jambs Duke op Yobk to William Pbinoe of Obange.'

" London, Sept. 27, 1G78,
"We* came hither <.n Wednesday last, and
are preparing to go to Newmarket
the beginning: rfnexv. wecic, the parliament being prorogued till the 2l8t of next
movitli. Wlu; .'3 shidi be out of town, the duchess and my daughter Anne
,,
intend to uake your wife a visit vert/ incognito, and have yet said nothing of it
to any body here but his majesty, whose leave they asked, and will not mention
it till the post be gone. They carry little company with them, and sent this
iim Ijearer, Robert Wliite, before, to see to get a house for them as near yoyr court
as they can. They intend to stay only whilst we shall be at Newmarket,
"I was very glad to see by the last letters, that my daughter continued so
well, and hope now she will go out her full time. I have written to her to Ixi
very careful of herself, and hat she would do well not to stand too long, for
'
that is very ill for a young woman in her state.

" The incognito ladies intend to set out from hence on Tuesday next, if the
wind be fair; they have bid me tell you they desire to be very incognito, and
they have lord Ossory for their governor, [escort]. I have not time to say
mori', but only to assure you, that I shall always be very kind to you."
Endorsed —" For my son, the Prince of Orange."
Accordingly, the duchess of York and the princess Anne,

m attended by the chivalric Ossory as their escort, set out from
Whitehall on October -Jj, 1678, to visit the princess of
Orange at the Hague, where they arrived speedily and safely.
The prince received them with the highest marks of distinc-
tion; and as for the excessive affection with '^vhich Mary
met her step-motliêr and sister, all her contemporary biogra-
phers dwell on it as the principal incident of her life in
Holland. The caresses she lavished on the lady Anne
amounted to transport when she first saw her."' ki that era
of unbroken confidence and kind't y,,^ Mary and her step-
1 her were the best of iiiends.
'
^he was given pet name .,.
i': . r own family, and the duciiess addressed her by it : ac
Dalrymple, vol. ii. p. 201. Found in king William's box, at Kensington.

iii|i|i|r,:^,ii * Himself and kiner C •rles. « Life of Mary II. 1695.
:
Si-:. .
r
!
iBIBltflilllllli'lliilii'
Ilii
— —
MARY II. 63
the prince was "the orange," Mary, in contradistinction,

was "the lemon;" and "my de?r lemon," was the term
with which most of her step-mothe/s letters began, until the
Revolution.^
The lady Aime and the duchess stayed but a few days with
the duke of York announces their safe return,
the princess, as
October 18th, in his letter of thanks to "his son, the prince
of Orange," for his hospitality.'* The princess of Orange
saw much of her father and family in the succeeding year,
which was the time of his banishment on account of his
religion. When
he came to the Hague in March 1679, he
met with a most afiPectionate welcome from his daughter, and
with great hospitality from his nephew, her husband. The
princess melted into teai's when she saw her father, and was
full of the tenderest condolences on the mournful occasion of
his visit. She was still suffering from the intermittent fever,
which hung on her the whole of that year.
Her father, the duke of York, wrote thus to her uncle,
Lawrence Hyde, from the Hague, in the April of the same
year. In the midst of his anxiety regarding the proceedings
in England, he made the ill- health of his daughter Mary the
subject of several letters :
" My daughter's ague-fit continues still; her eleventh fit is now upon her,
but, as the cold not so long as usual, I have hopes it is a-going ofl'. I am
fit is
called away to fupper, so that I can say no more but that you shall always find
me as much your friend as ever."
In a letter to the prince of Orange, he says,

"I am my daughter has missed her ague I liope she
exceedingly glad that :
will have no more the warm weather has come."

now In another, " he rejoices
that her journey to Dieren has cured her."
In June, her father again laments the continuance of her

ague. Dieren was a hunting-palace belonging to the prince
of Orange,,where Henry Sidney, soon after, found the prin-
cess, and their court. He was sent envoy from
the prince,
Charles II. to William, "whom," he says, "I found at
Dieren, in an ill house, but a fine country. The prince
took me up to his bedchamber, where he asked me ques-
v'\
' Birch MS., and sir Henry Ellis's Historical Letters, first Series, vol. iii.
"^
All other particulars of this visit have been detailed in the preceding
volume, pp. 79-81 ; Life of Mary Beatrice of Modena.
64 MARY II.
tions, and I informed him of every thing, much to his satis-

faction/'' The news that pave so much satisfaction, was
the agitation in England respecting the Popish Plot, con-
ducted by Titus Oates. Sidney dined at Dieren with the
princess, and found at her table lady Inchiquin, who was
first lady of the bedchamber: she was one of the Villiers
sisterhood, under whose noxious influence at her own court

the peace of the English princess was withering.
The prince of Orange was one day discussing the Popish
Plot, and observing that Dr. Hooper was by no means of
his mind, for that divine did not conceal his contempt for
the whole machination, the prince subjoined, "Well, Dr.
Hooper, you will never be a bishop.^' Every day widened
the differences between Dr. Hooper and the prince of
Orange, who was ever inimical to the church-of-England
service; and this Dr. Hooper would never compromise by
any undue compliance. The prince of Orange, in conse-
quence, was heard to say, " that if ever he had any thing
to do with England, Dr. Hooper should remain Dr. Hooper
still." When
this divine wished to return to England, to
fulfil marriage-engagement with Mr. Guildford's daugh-
his
ter, (a lady of an old cavalier family resident at Lambeth,
!li;i:i';'
greatly esteemed by archbishop Sheldon,) the princess was
alarmed, fearing lie would leave her, and never return to
Holland. Her royal highness told him, "that he must
prev-d with his lady to come to Holland." He promised
that he would do his best to induce her to come. The
princess was obeyed; but she was not able to procure for
Mrs. Hooper the most hospitable entertainment in the world.
Dr. Hooper had always taken his meals with the ladies of
the bedchamber and the maids of honour of the princess,
and his wife was invited by her royal highness to do the
same but well knowing the great economy of the prince,
;
and his general dislike to the English, Dr. Hooper never

once suffered his wife to eat at his expense, and he himself
dining at the prince's table, always taking his meals
left cff
with his wife at their own lodging, •. ;<'-,h was very near the
> Diary ond Correspondence of Henry Sidney, euited by R. W. Blenrowe, esq.
31 !^
MARY II.
court. This conduct of Dr. Hooper resulted wholly from

his sense of the griping " The prince,
meanness of William.
nevertheless, had been heard to say, that as he had been '
told that Mrs. Hooper was a very fine woman, he should
like to salute her, and welcome her to Holland.' It was a

great jest among the women
of the princess, to hear the
prince often speak of a person in the service of their mis-
tress, and yet months passed away without his speaking to
her, or knowing where she was. Dr. Hooper must have

been a man of fortune, since he spent upwards of 2000/.,
when in the service of the princess, in books and linen.
The Dutch, who keep their clergy very poor, were amazed,
and called him ' the rich papa.' The other chaplain was a
worthy man, but unprovided with independent subsistence
in England, little doubting that he should have a hand-
some stipend paid him, though the prince mentioned no
particulars. He was never paid a farthing ; and having run
in debt, he died of a broken heart in prison. Dr. Hooper
only received a few pounds for nearly two years' attendance,
— *a specimen of Dutch generosity,' observes his relative,
'
of which more instance ^ will be given.'" ^ The princess had
400U/. per annum for her expenses, a very different revenue
from the noble one we sh. je allowed to her youngest
sister by her uncle and fatlier. Part of this sum was lost
to her by the diflference of exchange, about 200/. per

annum.
The lady Anne accompanied her lather in his next vi .
to the Hague. During his exile in Brussels, he had de-

manded of his brother Charles II. that his children should
be sent to him ; after some demur, the lady Anne and her
half-sister, the little In ^- 'bella, were permitted to embark
'
on board the Greenwich frigate, in the summer of 1679.

The lady Anne did not leave Brussels until after September
20, which is the date of a gossiping letter she wrote to her
'
William III. Hooper's MS., vol. ii. p. 470. Dr. Hooper's
Trevor's Life of
tliis time the princess Anne came to the Hague ill of the
daughter notes, that at
ague. It was an awkward place to cm-e axx ague, and we think she must mean
that the prmcess of Orange had the ague, which we see by the letters of her
Mher above was actually the case.
VOL. VII. F
GG MARY II.
friend lady Apslcy,' in England. Although the spelling nnd

construction of her royal highness are not to be vaunted iwr
their correctness, the reader can understand her meauinjj

:
well enough; and this early letter, the only one preserved
i
of Anne before her marriage, gives more actual information

regarding the domesticity of her father^s family in his exile
than can be gleaned elsewhere. Brussels, it must be re-
membered, was then under the crown of Spain, therefore
the festivities the princess witnessed were in honour of the
marriage of their sovereign a\ ith her young cousin, Maria
mMH Louisa of Orleans, with whom she had in childhood been
domesticated at St. Cloud and the Palais-Royjil.
" PBiNCTisa Anne of Yobk to Lady Apsley,*
(wife of sir Allen Apsley).
'[The commencement of the letter consists of excuses for not writing so( r,]
" Hruxelles rBrussela], Wept Ji).
"I was to see a hall [I have bci i) to see a ball] at the court, incopnito, wliich
I likedc very well; it was in very g'xid order, and some danc'd well enought;
indeed, there was prince Vodenunt that danc'd extreamly well, as well if not
better than ethere the duke of Monmouth or sir E. Villiors,' which I think is
very ex<ronlinary. Last nijjht, again, I wus to see fyer works and boufvvM,
which wa-f celebrate the 1 'u^r of Spain's wedinp; they were very well worth
seeing indeeu. All the jit-ople hi>' are very ^/V', ul except you be otherwavs
to them, they will 1h; so to you. for the t<Av

.
,it is a great fine town. Jle-
thinks, tho, the stretfts are n)t so an lus thi>, ure in Holland, yet they arc not
so dirty as oursj they ure very well [ ived, and very easy, — they ouely have oi
smells. My sister Issabella's lotlgin d mine are much better than I expeotwl,
and so is all in this place. B'or our l.îgLigs, t]wy wrar all one great room, and
now are divided with board into severall.
"My sister Issabella has a good bedchain' with a chimney in it. There
is a little hole to put by things, and between , room and mine there is an in-
diferent room without a chimney; then mine is a good one with a chironoy,
which was made a purpose for me. I have a closet and a place for my tniiib,
and ther's [there is] a little place where our women dine, and over that such
anothere. I doubt I have quite tirde out your patience, so that I will say no
more, onely beg you to believe me to be, what I realy am and will be,
" Your very affectionate freinde,
'
Anxe.
' x'ray remember me very kindly to sir Allin."
• Laily Apsley was the mother of lady Bathiu-st, the ^vife of sir Benjamin
Bathurst, tresisurer of the honsehokl to the princess Anne. Lady Bathurst was
probably placed in the service of princess Anue, as she mentioi her as one of
her earliest friends in a letter written when queen, in 1705.
'Holograph, the original being in the possession of tho noble family of Bath-
urst, the descendants of that of Apsley. The author has been favourwl Iw the
kindness of latly Georgiana Bathiu^t with a copy of this ijiedite<l letter of Anne,
* Well kuowu to the readers of these biographies as the bi-other of EUzabeth
MAKY II. 67
Her little sister Isabella was her companion on the voyage,

bcin^ scarcely three years old, —a lovely infant, the (laughter
of the fluke of York and Mary Beatrice. The satisfaction
withwhich Anne enters into the detail of her baby sister's
accommodation at Brussels, even to the possession of a hole
to put things in, is characteristic of her disposition. There
is no kind mention of her infant companion, or indeed of
any one but sir Allen Apsley; yet the greatest affection
seemed to prevail among the family of the duke of York
at this period.
The princess of Orange was igain visited by her father at
the end of September, 1679, accompanied by his wife, her
mother the duchess of Modena, and the lady Annc.^ Colo-
nel and Mrs. Churchill were both in attendance on their
exiled master and mistress in the Low Countries; and it
must have been on this series of visits that the princess of

Orange'^ and Mrs. Churohill took their well known antipathy
to each other, for neithei' the princess nor the lady had had
any previous opportunities for hatred, at least as adults.
When her father and his family departed, the princess of
Orange, with her husband, bore them company as far as the
Maesland She parted with her father in an agony of
sluice.
tears, and took tender and oft-repeated farewells of him, his
consort, and her sister. Her father she never again beheld.
At that period of her life, Mary did not know, and probably
would liave heard with horror of all the intrigues her hus-
band was concocting with the Sidneys, Sunderlands, Russells,
Gates, and Bedloes, for hurling her father from his place in
the succession. Documentary evidence, whatever general
history may assi rt to the contrary, proves that this conduct
of her husband wm ungrateful, because he had received vital
support from Ids relatives in England at a time when he must

have been for ever crushed beneath the united force of the
party in Holland adverse to his re-establishment as stadthol-
Villiers, and master of the Jiorse to the princess of Orange, and afterwards aa
!
Roper Coke's Detection, vol, iii. p. 119.
'
' Letter of the princess Anne, in 1687, commencing with her regrets for the
I
[
bad opinion that her sister had of " lady Churcliill."
V 2
— ;
CA MARY ir.
der, and tho might of France. Long before the mar-

whol(»
Orange with the heiress of Great IJritain,
riago of Williuin of
the ambition of his party of Dutchmen had anticipated for
him the throne of Charles II. : to this result they considered
that a prophecy of Nostradamus tended. In order that the
English might consider the prince of Orange in that light,

an anonymous letter was sent to sir William Temple at
Nimeguen, where he was staying in 1679, negotiating the
peace which Avas concluded between Holland and France, or
rather Spain and France. It would have been difficult for
any one but a partisan to discover a prophecy in this qua-
beyond the first line :'
train, at least
" Ne sous les ombres journoe nocturne,

Sera en gloire et souverain bonte
Fera reuaistre le sang de Tanticiuo urne,
Et changera en or le wii'de d'airain."
Bom under tbe sbado of a nocturnid day, he will Ihj gloriouj and supremely
good J in him will be renewed the ancient blood, and ho will change an
age of brass into one of gold.'
The Dutch partisan who sent this prophecy for the edifica-
tion of the English ambassador, likewise favoured him with

expounding the same. The explanation was, " That the
prince of Orange being born under the shades of a noctur-
'
nal day,* was verified by the time of his birth a few days
after the untimely death of his father; his mother being
plunged in the deepest grief of mourning, and the light of a
November-day excluded from her apartments, which were
hung with black, and only illumined by melancholy lamps.
* Renewing the ancient urn of blood ' was,
by the descent of
the prince from Charlemagne tlirough the house of Lou-
vaine." The rest of th.? spell alluded to the personal virtues
of the prince of Orange, and the wonderful happiness Great
Britain would enjoy in possessing him. The gold and the
brass were perhaps verified by his contriving dexterously, by
means of the Dutch system of finance, to obtain possession
by anticipation of all the gold of succeeding generations, to
enrich his age of brass.
> Sir W. Temple's Works, vol. ii. pp. 472, 473.

MAllY II. fiO
The princess of Orange seemed much rec vci» at Dieren. i
Sidney wrote to her father, that he could sc; ocly believe she
wanted any remedies ; nevertheless, it was her intention to
visit the baths of Aix-la-Chapellc.' A day was appointed for
her journey. Her husband ])laeed her under the care of his
favourite physician Dr. Drelincourt of Leyden, (son to the
well-known Calvinist author on "Death"). This physician
travelled with the princess to Aix, and rciturned with her.'
He was the Leyden professor of medicine, and head of at the
the medical establishment of the court Meantime,
till 1G88.
the conduct of the princess of Orange's maids of honour at
the Hague caused no little surprise they certainly took
:
extraordinary liberties, if the description of their friend Mr.

Sidney may be trusted. " The princess's maids are a great
comfort to me," wrote Sidney to Hyde " on Sunday they :
invited me to dinner. Pray let Mrs. Frazer know that the

maids of the princess of Orange entertain foreign ministers,
which is more, I think, than any of the queen's do."^ It
was to the conduct of these very hospitable damsels that the I .
II
fluctuating health and early troubles of the princess of Orange

may be attributed. The preference which the prince of
Orange manifested for Elizabeth Villiers was the canker of
the princess's peace, from her marriage to the grave. This
connexion, however scandalous it may be, is not matter of
slander, but of documentary history ."^
Scandal involved the name of William of Orange very

shamefully with Anne Villiers, the sister of Elizabeth, after
she was it may be judged
madame Bentinck. Altogether,
how strong were the meshes woven round the poor princess
by this family clique. These companions of the princess's
youth naturally possessed in themselves the species of autho-
ritative influence over her mind which they
derived from
being the daughters of her governess, all somewhat older
than herself. When it is remembered that the head of the
clique was the mistress of her husband, and that the next in
• Sidney Diary, vol. i. p. 45. ' Biographia Britannica.
• Sidney Diary, vol. i. pp. 55, 62. The queen is Catharine of Braganza.
Shrewsbury Correspondence, edited by archdeacon Coxe.
70 MARY II.
age and influence became the wife of his favourite minister of

state, the case of Mary of England seems sufficiently pitia-
ble : when she married WUliam of Orange, her age was not
sixteen years he was twenty-seven, and her hold rival was
;
nineteen or twenty, or perhaps older. A dread of insult soon

produced in the mind of the princess that close reserve and
retreat within herself, which, even after her spirit was utterly
broken, often perplexed her astute husband, at a time when
their views and feelings regarding the deposition of her father
were unanimous.
A diplomatist became resident at the Hague after the
peace with France of 1678, whose despatches to his ovra
court contain some intelligence concerning the domestic hfe
ledby the princess of Orange and her husband. This person
was the marquess dÂvaux, ambassador from Louis XIV.—
not exactly to the prince of Orange, but to the States of
Holland. The oddest stories are afloat relacive to this official
and the princess of Orange. One written by Sidney to sir
Leoline Jenkins is as follows " All the discourse we have
:
here, December 3rd, 1680, iswhat happened a-Wednesday

of
night at court. The French ambassador had, in the morn-
ing, sentword to monsieur Odyke, [one of the officials in the
household of the princess,] that he intended waiting on the
princess that evening. He

[Odyke] forgot to give notice of
it; so that the princess sat down, as she uses to do, about
eight o'clock, to play at la basset" This was a game at
cards, played with a bank, in vogue through all the courts of
Europe. Vast sums were lost and won at basset, and royal
personages sat down to play at it with as rigorous forms of
etiquette as if had been a solemn duty.^ "A quarter of

it
an hour after the princess had commenced her game, the

French ambassador came in. She rose, and asked him if he
would play. He made no answer, and she sat down again,
when the ambassador, looking about, saw a chair with arms
in the comer, which he drew for himself and sat down. After
* Basset succeeded primero, the game of queen Elmibeth, and prevailed
through the reign of queen Anne^ though tomewhat rivalled by ombre and
quadrille.
MARY II. 71
a little while, he rose and went to the table to play. Tire

prince of Orange came in, and did also seat him to play."
Rational people will suppose, so far, that there was no great
harm done on either side. According to strict etiquette, as;
tlie announcement had been sent of the visit of the ambas-
sador d'Avaux, the basset-tables should not have been set till
liis arrival; and it would be supposed that a five minutes'

lounge in an arm-chair, opportunely discovered in a corner,
was no very outrageous atonement for the neglected dignity
of the representative of Louis XIV.; but, alas arm-chairs !
in those days were moveables of consequence, portentous of

war or peace. ''Next day," Sidney added, "the French
ambassador told his friends, confidentially, that his behaviour
was not to be wondered at, for he had positive orders from
his master, Louis XIV., ' that whensoever the princess sat in
a great arm-chair, he should do so too ; and that if there was
but one in the room, he should endeavour to take it from the
princess, and sit in it himself!'"^
This climax of the letter is, we verily believe, a romaunt

of Henry Sidney's own compounding, for the purpose of
mystifying the credulity of that most harmless man, sir
Leoline Jenkins. Sidney hoped that he would go gossiping
with this important nothing to the duke of York, who woidd
forthwith vindicate his daughter, by resenting an offence
never dreamed of by that politest of mortals, Louis XIV.
Thus a small matter of mischief might be fomented between
the courts of England and Fra:^ce, for the benefit of that
of Orange. Louis XIV., it is well known, considered that
homage was due to the fair sex, eve . in the lowest degree j
for if he met his own housemaido in his palace, he never
passed them without touching his hat. Was it credible that

he could direct his ambassador, the representative of his own
polite person, to take away an arm-chair, by fraud or force,
from a princess, and sit in it himself in her presence ? And
Mary was not only a princess, but a young and pretty woman,
and cousin, Avithal, (but one degree removed,) to his own sa-
cred self Sir Leoline Jenkins might believe the report, but
!
' Sidney Diary, cUted by Mr. Blencowe, vol. ii. pp. 141, 142.
72 MARY II.
probability rejects it. If sir Leoline had been ambassador

to the court of Holland in an age less diabolical, his venera-
tion and honest loyalty would not have impaired his character
for sagacity. He had risen from the lowly estate of a charity
boy, by his learning and integrity, to a high situation in the
ecclesiastical courts he belonged to the reformed catholic

:
chui'ch of England, and had old-fashioned ideas of devotin"

to the poor proportionate sums in good works, according to
his prosperity. Moreover, he kept himself from presumptu-
ous sins, by hanging on high in his stately mansion, in daily
sight of himself atid his guests, the veritable leathern gar-
ments which he wore when he trudged from Wales to Lon-

don, a poor, wayfaring orphan, with two groats in his pockets,'
On the warm affections of a person so primitive, the prince of
Orange and most shamefully. Tlie

his tool, Sidney, played
phlegmatic prince's letters grew warm and enthusiastic in his
filial expr(!ssions towards the duke of York. " I am obliged
to yoiT," Avrote William of Orange''* xo sir Leoline, " for con-
tinning to inform me of what passes in England, but I am
grieved to learn with what animosity they proceed against
the duke of York. God bless him and grant that the king
!
and his parliament may agree." How could the ancient

adherent of the English royal family believe, that the dis-
sensions in England and the animosity so tenderly lamented

were at the same time fostered by the writer of this filial
effusion which looks especially ugly and deceitful, sur-
!
rounded as it is by documents proving that the prince of 1
Orange should either have left off his intrigues against his
uncle and father-in-law, or have been less fervent in his
! li'l! benedictions. But these benedictions were to deceive the
old loyalist into believing, that when he wrote intelligence
to the prince, he was writing to his master's friend and affec-
tionate son.
The extraordinary conduct of the maids of honour of the
princess of Orange has been previously shown; they gave
,
* Aubrey.
• Letter of the prince of Orang:e l,o sir Leoline Jenkins; Sidney Diaiy, vol, ii.
p. 12G : likewise Dalrymplo's Appendix.
.:;.i^.
MARY II 78
parties of pleasure to the ministers of sovereigns resident at

the Hague, at which the political intriguante, Elizaheth Vil-
liers reaped harvests of intelligence for the use of her em-
ployer, the prince of Orange, to whom these ambassadors

were not sent, These damsels,
but to the States of Holland.
therefore, were spies, who reported what the
to the prince
ambassadors meant to transact with the States, and these i '
.i
services were considered valuable by a crooked politician.
Anne Villiers* affairs prospered at these orgies, for she ob-

tained the hand of the favourite minister of the prince of
Orange, at some period between 1679 and 1685; but Mary-
Worth, the colleague of this sisterhood, was involved in
grievous disgrace, which occasioned serious trouble to the
princess. Tlie girFs reputation had been compromised by
the attentions of a Dutch Adonis of the court, count Zulestein,
illegitimate son of the grandfather of the prince of Orange.
Zulestein was one of the prince's favourites; although this
nobleman had given Mary Worth a solemn promise of mar-
riage, he perfidiously refused to fulfil it, and was encouraged
in his cruelty by the prince, his master. The princess was

grieved for the sufferings of her wretched attendant, but she
dared not interfere farther than consulting her almoner. Dr.
Ken, on this exigence. And here it is necessary to inter-
polate, that a third change had taken place in the head of
the church-of-England chapel at the Hague ; the prince of
Orange being exceedingly inimical to Dr. Hooper, he had
resigned, and Dr. Ken, in 1679, accepted this uneasy pre-
f('»'ment out of early affection and personal regard for the
princess, and in hopes of inducing her to adhere to the prin-
ciples of the church of England,' without swerving to the
practice Dutch dissenters, who exaggerated the fatalism
of the
uf their founder, and repudiated all rites with rigour. The
only creed to which the prince of Orange vouchsafed the
least attention, was that of the Brownists, who united with
their fatalist doctrines a certain degree of Socinianism. The

princess of Orange, it has been shown, before the amval of
Dr. Hooper, had been induced to attend the Wt)rship of this
' Bio. Brit., and Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, previously quoted in January 1678.
•
il
74 MARY II.
sect/ to the great grief of the divines of the church of Eng.

land. Dr. Ken
prevailed on the princess to remain steady
to the faith inwhich she had been baptized; he was, in con-
sequence, detested by the prince of Orange still more than
his predecessor. The prince saw, withal, that he was the
last person to gloss over his iU-treatment of his wife.
When the princess consulted Dr. Ken regarding the cala.
mitous case of the frail Mary Worth, he immediately, with.

out caring for the anticipated wrath of the prince of Orange,
sought an interview with count Zulestein, and represented to
him the turpitude and cruelty of his conduct to the r afortu-

nate girl in such moving terms, that Zulestein, who, though
profligate, was not altogether reprobate, at the end of the
exhortation became penitent, and requested the apostolic
man to marry him to Mary as soon as he pleased. A few

days afterwards the prince of Orange went on business to
Amsterdam; the princess then called all the parties con-
cerned about her, and Ken married the lovers, Zulestein and
Mary Wortli, in her chapel. The rage of the prince on his
return, when he found his favourite kinsman fast bound in
marriage, without possibility of retracting, was excessive ; he
scolded and stormed at the princess, and railed violently at
Dr. Ken, who told him he was desirous of leaving his court
and returning to England. The tears and entreaties of the
princess, who begged Dr. Ken not to desert her, gave a more
serious turn to the affair than the prince liked, who, at last,
alarmed at the effect the quarrel might have in England,

joined with her in entreating Ken to stay with her another
m. year. Dr. Ken reluctantly complied; lie was thoroughly
impacient of witnessing the ill-treatment he saw the princesis
suflfcr,'* nor could he withhold remonstrance. " Dr. Ken was
» Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, and Biography of Dr. Ken in Cio. Brit. Dr. Ken
waa the bosom friend of Hooper; by descent, Ken was a gentleman of uiioient
Saxon lineage, born at Ken-place, Somersetshire. He devoted himself with
love to our reformed ohurch. His sister married the illustrious haberdiislicr,
Isaac Walton, who alludes to her in his beautiful lines on Spring : —
" There see a blackbird tend its young.
There hear my Kenna sing a song."
* Sidney Papers and Diary, edited by Mr. Blencowe, vol. ii. pp. 19-2G, and
Memoir of Dr. Ken, in Biograplua Britannica.
If
\M-
;
MARY II. 75
hnth me," wrote Sidney in his journal of March the 21st,

1680 ;
" he is horribly unsatisfied with the prince of Orange.
He thinks he is not kind to his wife, and he is determined
to speak to him about it, even if he kicks him out of doors."
*
j
Aâin, about a month afterwards the journal notes, "Sir

I Gabriel Sylvius and Dr. Ken were both here, and both
I
complain of the prince, especially of his usage of his wife
I they think she is it, and that
it doth greatly
sensible of
contribute to her illness. They are mightily fox" her going
to England, but they think he will never consent."
^ Sidney
being an agent and favourite of the prince of Orange,
it is not
probable that bo exaggerated his ill conduct. And as for

sir Gabriel Sylvius, he was one of his own Dutchmen, who
had married a young lady of the Howard family a ward of —
Evelyn, at the time of the wedlock of the prince and princess
of Orange.^ Lady Anne Sylvius soon after followed the
princess to Holland, and became one of her principal ladies.
King Charles II. gave lady Anne Sylvius the privilege and
rank of an earl's daughter, as she was grand-daughter to the
earl of Berkshire. ..he was extremely attached to the royal
family of Great Britain, in which the good Dutchman, her
elderly but most loving spouse, participated he seems to :
have been a primitive character, of the class of sir Leoline

[Jenkins, his contemporary.*
In the paucity of events to vary the stagnation of existence
I
in which theyoung beautiful Mary of England was doomed
to mope away the flower of her days in Holland, the circum-
stance of her laying the first stone of William's new brick i
Loo afforded her some little opportunity of enacting

palace at
jher part in the drama of royalty, that part which nature had
so eminently fitted her to perform with grace and majesty.
[The erection of this palace, the decorations, together with the

' Sidney Papers and Diary, edited by Mr. Blencowe, vol. ii. pp. 19-26, and
[Memoir of Dr. Ken, in Biographia Britannica.
-
'•*
ibid. ' Evelyn's Diary. 1^'
i
' Sir Gabriel Sylvius had not the honour of participation in the Iwsom-secrets
lot' the prince of Orange, al'îough fimbassador to England. Sir William Teniplo
jquoted, one day, an opinion of sir GalirJel Sylvius. "God!" exclaimed the
j
prince of Orange, " do you think I would let Sylvl'is know more of my min<|
[thau I could tell iny coachman P"
76 MARY II.
laying out of the extensive gardens and pleasure-grounds, af.
forded Mary some amusement and occupation. On the east I
side were the apartments devoted to her use, since called

*the queen's suite/ although she never went to Holland after
her accession to the British crowns. Under the windows of
these was her garden, with a noble fountain in the centre,
called 'the queen's garden.' This garden led into another,
with a labyrinth, adorned with many statues. Behind tk
palace she had her voliere, or poultry- garden, from which it
appears that she beguiled her dulness in Holland by rearing

various kinds of fowls, especially those of the aquatic species,
f'fr
for which the canals and tanks of Loo were so well fitted, I
Beyond the park was the vivier, a large quadrangiUar pond,
whith supplied all the fountains, jets, and cascades that|

adorned the gardens. Near this was the garden of Fauns,
with divers pleasant long green walks ; and west of the vivier \
was situated a fine grove for solitude, where Mary occasion-

ally walked, since called in memory of her, " the queen's I
grove." William had also his wing of the palace, opening

into his private pleasaunce and his voliere it was to render :
it more like this Dutch palace that Hampton-Court, the royal
abode of the Tudor and Stuart sovereigns, was disfigured and

pulled to pieces to decorate Loo. William is accused of
plundering Windsor of some of the pictures with which tlie
fine taste and munificence of his predecessors had adorned |
them.*
Mary's palace-seclusion, at this period of her life, must]
have been a matter of notoriety, since one of her contem-
porary biographers, whose labours (3,nd very laborious they I
must have been) consist of mere panegyric without incident,

thinks fit, thus cautiously, to apologize for it :
—" Thougli
|
the princess of Orange behaved with all possible condescen-
sion to the wives of the burgomasters, and the other ladies, I
yet she never forgot her own high birth so far as to entef
j
into familiarity with them, it being regarded by her as an
1 A description of William's palace at Loo was written, at Mary's desire, by
his majesty's pliysieian, Walter Harris j hut it was not finished till after lier
death, when it was published in a pamphlet form, decorated with a view of tliis ]
heavy and expensive building, and its formal gardens.

MARY II. 11
inviolable make visits nor con-

point of etiquette, neither to
tract any of them. The narrowness of the
intimacies with
circle to which she was thus confined, rendered her recluse
and solitary in her own court, and took from her a great part
Iof the grandeur, state, and homage to which she had been
[accustomed in her uncle's court." How weary such a hfe ^
[
niust have been to a girl in her teens, accustomed to ail the
I
gaieties of the most fascinating court in Europe, and ali the
endearments of domestic ties, we may suppose, disappointed
as shewas in her hopes of maternity, and neglected in her

j
first bloom of beauty for one of her attendants by her tacitui'n
husband.
and unfaithful No wonder that Mary's health
gave way, and the journals, written by English residents at
[the Hague, prognosticated an early death for the royal
flower, who had been reluctantly torn from the happy home
of her youth to be transplanted to an ungenial climate.
Years, in fact, elapsed before Mary of England's home afifec-
i
I
tions and filial duties were sufiiciently effaced to allow her to
I
become an accomplice in the utter ruin of the father who
'
tenderly loved her. From the year 1680 to 1684 the events
of her hfe in Holland, together with life itself, stagnated as
dismally as the contents of the canals around her all the :
Iendence concerning her goes to prove, that her seclusion

was httle better than the palace-restraint which was called
1
captivity in the days of her ancestresses, Eleanora of Aqui-
taine and Isabella of Angouleme. While this mysterious

retirement was endured by her in Holland, life was opening
ito her young sister Anne, and many important events had
i befallen her.
The lady Anne did not accompany her father the duke of
\ York, and her step-mother Mary Beatrice, in their first jour-
'
ney to Scotland her establishment continued at St. James's,

:
I or Richmond. She bore the duchess of York company on

her land-journey to the north as far as Hatfield, and then re-
I
turned to her uncle's court.^ Whilst the bill for excluding
* The Life of our late gracious Queen Mary; puLlislied 1695.

' R. Coke.For particulars of her abode in Scotland, see the previous volume,
:
Life of Mary Beatrice, pp. 100-105.
78 MARY II.
her father from the succession was agitating the country and
parliament, perhaps the first seeds of ambition were sown in |
+I10 bosom of Anne, for she was generally spoken of and re.
garded as the ultimate heiress to the tlironc. Ma ^' intrigues
regarding her marriage' occupicil the plotting biiM of her
childless brother-in-law, William of Orange. The hereditary

prince of Hanover, afterwards George I., paid first a long vi.
sit at the Hague at the close of the year 1680, and then ap.
peared at the court of Charles II. as a suitor for the hand of |
the lady Anne of York. Although William afifected the most

confidential aiFection for this young prince, he was racked
with jealousy lest he should prosper in his wooing, not per. —
sonal jealousy of his sister-in-law, whom he abhorred, but he
feared that the ambition of the hereditary prince of Hanover
should be awakened by his proximity to the British throne,
if he were brought still nearer by wedlock with the ladv
Ml Anne. The case would then stand thus If George of Han.

over married Anne of York, and the princess of Orange
:
died first, without ofi'spring, (as she actually did,) William of

Orange would have had to give way before their prior claims
on the succession ; to prevent which he set at work a three-
fold series of intrigues, in the household of his sister-in-law,
at the court of Hanover, and at that of Zell.
The prince of Hanover arrived opposite to GrcenMich-
palace December 6, 1680, and sent his chamberlain, M. Beck,
on shore to find his uncle, prince Rupert,^ and to hire a house,
Prince Rupert immediately informed Charles 11. of the arri-
val of the prince of Hanover. The king forbade hiring any
house, and instantly appointed apartments at Whitehall for
his German kinsman and suite, sending ofl" the master of the
ceremonies, sir Charles Cottrell, with a royal barge, to bring
his guest un the Thames to Whitehall. The duke of Hamil-

ton came to call on the Hanoverian prince, when he had rest-
ed at Whitehall about two hours, and informed him that his
uncle, prince Rupert, had already preceded him to the levee "ai ^r wishing
I ' Si(]ney Diary, vol. ii.
' Prince Rupert, then living at the British court, it will be remembered, was
brother to Sophia, mother t<j George I., and youngest daughter to the queen of
Bohemia.
MAnY II. 79
I
of king Charles, and was ready to meet him there. George
of Hanover quickly made his appearance at the
royal levee,
I
j
and when presented to the British monarch, he delivered a
!
letter that his mother, the electress Sophia, had sent by him
I
to her royal cousin-german. Charles II. received both the
I
letter and his young kinsman with his usual frankness, spoke
cf Ills cousin Sophia, and said he well remembered her. When
tlie king had chatted some time with his relative, he proposed
to prc8ent him to the queen, (Catharine of Braganza). Prince
Gcoi'ge followed Charles II. to the queen's side, or privy-lodg-
ings, at Whitehall, where his presentation to her majes':y took
I
place, with the same ceremonial as was used at the court of
France before the revolution of 1790. The gentleman pre-
[
sented knelt, and, taking the robe of the queen, endeavoured
I
to kiss the hem ; the more courteous etiquette was, for a lit-
[tle graceful struggle to take place, Avhen the queen took her
robe from the person presented, who while she did so, kissed
I
her hand.
It was not until the next day that prince George saw the
I
on whose account he had undertaken this journey
princess
presented him to his niece Anne, " the princess of
Charles II.
I
York," as prince George himself terms her. At his introduc-
tion, the king gave him leave to kiss her. It was, indeed, the
1 privilege of the prince's near relationship that he should sa-
lutf. iicr on the lips. Yet the fact that George I. and Anne
iso greeted, seems inconsistent with the coldness and distance
of their historical characters. AH this intelligence was con-

veyed to the electress Sophia, in a letter written to her, on
occasion of these introductions, by her son. It is as follows,
I
from the original French, in which it is indited with as much
I
sprightliness as if it had emanated from the literary court of
Louis XIV. :—
"THE Heeeditaet Pbince Gkobge of HanoveBjI to his Motheb,
THE Electress Sophia.*
"London, Dec. 30, o.e. (Jan. 10, x.8.) 1680-1.
" rti' T wishing your serene highness a very happy new year, I will not delay
' George I., afterwards king of Great Britain.

' It is a doubtful whether the husband of this princess was at that time
little
j
elector, but so his consort, is entitled by the transcriber.
80 MARY II.
letting Y' '1 know

that I ar. ./(hI hero on the Bth of Doc., having remained one
diiy at iinehor at Qrunnevitsch, [GrcciiWich.J till M. Heck went on ihore to taku
a hi use for nie. He ilid not fail to Hnd out prince Robert, [Rupert,] to ]«
him know of my arrival at Gntnnevitsch, who did not delay tellinj; kiiiK
Chr- icM II. : his nuijesty iunnediatcly ujnio'nted mo ajtarlments at H'eilkid
[Vi iiuuiiall]. M. Hcrk requested prince Robert^ to excuse me j hut Yxw^
Charles, when he spoke shoidd ahsolutely be so, fir Ik

thus, insisted that it
would treat mo 'en counin,' and alter that no more could he said. TluTilore
M. Cotterel came on the morrow, to Hud mo out, [in the shij) at Orecnwichl
with a barque of the kinj^, and brought me therein to Weithal, [Whittlmll
I had not Ixien there more than two hours, when milor Hamilton came to tak
me to the king, who n^ceived me most obligingly. Prince Robert [Rn|i
bad preceded me, and was at court when I saluted king Charles. In iiiakiiv
my obeisance to the king, I did not omit to give him the letter of your sertne
highness, after which he sjjoke of your highness, and said, ' that he rememlH;rwl
you very well.' When he had talked with me some time, ho went to the quccii,
[Catharine of Rragan/.a,] and as soon as I arrived he made me kiss the hiuiof
(I
i ;n;!
I
her majesty's petticoat, {qui I'on me Jit bai.ser lajupe a la reine).

" The next day I saw the i)rincc8s of York, [the liuly Anne,] and I siilutiil I
her by kissing her, with the consent of the king. The day after, I went to visit
princt? Robert, [Rui)ert,] who received me in bed, for he has a malady in Lii
leg, which makes him very often keep his bed; it iip]K'ars that it is so witiiirat
any pretext, and that he has to take care of himself. He hoil not failed (f
coming to see me one day. All the milords came to see me sans pretendre l<
main chez moi:^ milord Oreue [perhaps Clrey] is (me that came to me very oftra
indeed. They cut ofl" the head of lord Stafford yesterday, and made no more
ado about it than if they had chopped off the head of a pullet.
" I have no more to tell your serene highness, wherel'ore I conclude, and «•
main, your very humble son and servant, " Gkokge Lotus."'
There is reason to believe that the "inilor Greue," who was

assiduous in his attendance on the prince of Hanover, was
lord Grey of Ford, one of the most violent agitators for the
legal murder of the unoflFending lord Stafford, whose death is
mentioned with such naive astonishment by the prince of
Hanover. Various reasons are given for the failm-e of the
marriage-treaty between George I. and queen Anne. It is
asserted* that William of Orange caused it to be whispered to
the lady Anne, that it was owing to the irrepressible disgust
that the prince George felt at the sight of her, —an obliging
' Tlie name of prince Rupert, although always Germanized to the EngM |
reatler, is, in this letter by liis German nephew, mentioned as Robert.

* This sentence is incomplete and broken in sense ; perhaps the original was I
damaged. Does it mean that they came without venturing to shake luuidi|
with him
' Endorsed,
?
—" Copied, by George Augustus Gargan, librarian of the Archive I
at Hanover, into a collection of MSS. in the King's Libraiy, British Museum,

presented by George IV., called Recucil de Pieces, p. 220."
* Tindal's Continuation, and the Marlborough MSS., Brit. Museum.
MARY II. 81
piece of informatiou, which coiihl easily bo conveyed to her by

thcajêncy of the Villicrs sisters in his wife's estiibhslirneut in
Hoiluiul, '•ommunicaLiiif? the sjuue to the otiier division of thq
sisterhood who were (h)incstieated in the puhiec! of St. James.
The mischief took cttcct, for Anne manifested hfeh)n^ rc-
sentTnont f(ir this snpposed attront. Yet there is no ex-
nrrssio! 'f tlie kind in the letter quoted above, thouj^h writ-
tcr. coulidentially to a mother; instead of which, the suitor
'
h . tisfaction on the pcrmis;sion fîvei' 'U to salute
'
,1 princess. It is more likely that pi '

.jorjê of
the v;
to ^
he disjjfust at the proceedin^j^s ot im- leaders of
li public at that time, and was loath to involve hini-
sell infamous intrigues; for it is to the jj^reat ho-
aeir
house of Hanover, that their names
nour oi the princes of the
are unsullied by any such evil deeds as those that disgrace
William of Orange. It Avill be found, subsequently, that the

mother of this prince testified sincere reluctance to accept a
succession forced on her, and unsought by her or hers ; like-
wise that her son never visited Great Britain again until he
was summoned as king; in short, the conduct both of the elec-
trcss Sophia and of her descendants present the most honour-
able contrast to the proceedings of William, Mary, and Anne.
Duiing prince George of Hanover's visit in England, the
prince of Orange had kindly bestirred himself to fix a matri-
monial engagement for him in Germany when he had re- :
mfiined a few weeks at the court of his kinsman, Charles II.,

he was summoned home by his father, Ernest Augustus, to
receive the hand of his first-cousin, Sophia Dorothea, heiress
of the duchy of Zell. The marriage, contracted against the

wishes of both prince George and Sophia Dorot liea, proved
most miserable to both.
The duke of York was absent from England, keeping
court at Holyrood, at the time of the visit of prince George
of Hanover; he had no voice in the matter, either of ac-
ceptance or rejection. Although the affections of the lady
Anne were not likely to be attracted by prince George, for
his person was diminutive and his manners unpleasant yet
she felt the unaccountable retreat of her first wooer as a

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B2 MARY II.
great mortification. The little princess Isabella died the
same spring, a child to whom her sister, the lady Anne, was
probably much attached, for they had never been separated
but by the hand of death. In the following summer, Charles
II. permitted the lady Anne to visit her father in Scotland.
She embarked on board one of the royal yachts at Whitehall,
July 13, and, after a prosperous voyage, landed at Leith, July
17, 1681. Her visit to Scotland has been mentioned in the
xY preceding volume.^ Here she met her favourite companion,
Mrs. Churchill, who was then in Scotland, in attendance on
the duchess of York.
"i iii
When the vicissitudes of faction gave a temporary pros-

perity to her father, the lady Anne returned with him to
St. James's-palace, and again settled there, in the summer

of 1682. In that year, or the succeeding one, she bestowed
her first upon an accomplished nobleman of her
affections
uncle's court. There is little doubt but that her confidante,
Sarah Churchill, was the depositary of all her hopes and
fears relative to her passion for the elegant and handsome
Sheffield lord Mulgrave, which Sarah, according to her
nature, took the first opportunity to circumvent and betray.
Few of those to whom the rotund form and high-coloured
complexion of queen Anne are familiar can imagine her as
a poet's Ijve, and a poet, withal, so fastidious as the accom-
plished Sheffield ; but the lady Anne of York, redolent with
the Hebe bloom and smiles of seventeen, was different from
the royal matron who adorns so many corporation halls in
provincial towns, and it is possible might be sincerely loved
by the young chivjalric earl of Mulgrave, who wrote poems
in her praise, which were admired by the court. Poetry is
an allowable incense, but after gaining the attention of the

lady Anne in verse, the noble poet, Sheffield, proceeded to
write bond fide love-letters to her in good earnest prose,

the object of which was marriage. Charles II. and the
favoured confidante of the princess, Sarah Churchill, alone
knew whether she answered these epistles. Some say that
Sarah stole a very tender billet in the lady Anne's writing,
» Vol. vj. p. 129 J Life of Mary Beatrice.

. W:
MARY II. 83
addressed to Sheffield earl of Mulgrave, and placed it in the

hands of her royal uncle, Charles II. ; others declare that
the unlucky missive was a flaming love-letter of the earl
to the lady Anne. But whichever it might be, the result
was, that a husband was instantly sought for the enamoured
princess, and her lover was forthwith banished from the
English court.^ Charles II. rests under the imputation of
sending the earl of Mulgrave on a command to Tangier in
a leaky vessel, meaning to dispose of him and of his am-
bitious designs out of the way at the bottom of the ocean;
but to say nothing of the oriental obedience of the crew of
the vessel, it may be noted that Charles could have found a
less costly way of assassination, if so inclined, than the loss

of a ship,however leaky, with all her appointments of rig-
ging, provisions,ammunition, and five hundred men withal,
one of whom was his own child, —
for the earl of Plymouth
was a favourite son of his, who sailed in the same ship with
Mulgrave. The want of sea-worthiness of the ship was dis-
coverea on the voyage, and whenever the health of king
Charles was proposed, lord Mulgrave used to say, " Let us
wait till we get safe out of his rotten ship.^''^ From this
speech, and from the previous courtship of the princess Anne,
all the rest has been astutely invented.
The consequence of the courtship between the lady Anne

and lord Mulgrave was, that her uncle, king Charles, and
his council, lost no time in finding her a suitable helpmate.
The handsome king of Sweden, Charles XI., had proposed

for the lady Anne, some time after prince Greoige of Ha-
nover had withdrawn his pretensions. -The beautiful and

spirited equestrian portrait of the king of Sweden was sent
to England to find favour in the eyes of the lady Anne;
this portrait, drawn by no vulgar pencil, is at Hampton-
Court, — at least it was there four years since, shut up in

the long room leading to the chapel. It deserves to be seen,
for it presents the beau ideal of a martial monarch. Anne
was not destined to be the mother of Charles XII.; her
• Biographia Britannica. Scott's Life of Dryden. Horace Walpole, ias.
* Memoir of Sheffield duke of Buckingham, prefixed to his Works, vol. i.
o 2
84 MARY II.
unloving brother-in-law, William, opposed this union with

all his power of intrigue ; the only suitor on whom he was
willing to bestow his fraternal benediction, was the elector.
Palatine, a mature widower, a mutual cousin of Anne and
himself, being a descendant of the queen of Bohemia. The

choice of Charles II. for his niece fell on neither of
these
wooers, but on prince George, brother of Christiern V., king

of Denmark.
The royal family of Denmark were nearly related to that
of Great Britain, the grandmother of Charles II., Anne of

Denmark, being aimt to the father of prince George, [Fre-
"ifjfa
deric and a friendly intercourse had always been
III.,]
kept up, since her marriage with James I., between the
royal families of Denmark and Great Britain. Christiern V.,
when crown-prince, had visited England at the Restoration;
his highness took away with him, as his page, Georse
Churchill,' who was at that time but thirteen ; it is possible
that this trifling circumstance actually led to the marriage
of prince George with the lady Anne of York. George of
Denmark visited England in 1670,^ when the lady Anne viSi

only five or six years old, for there was a difference of four-
teen or fifteen years in their ages. He brought George
Churchill with him to Whitehall, as his guide and inter-
preter in England, for prince CI ' ^tiern had transferred hira

to his brother's service. Ero^ at time George Churchill
became as influential in the household of the second prince
of Denmark, as his brother, John Churchill (afterwards duke
of Marlborough), was in that of the duke of York. The
prince of Orange was staying at the court of his uncles at
Whitehall, when George of Denmark was on his first visit in

England ; what harm the Danish prince had ever done to
his peevish little kinsman was never ascertained, but from
that period, William cultivated a hatred against him, lasting
as it was bitter.
It is possible,when Sarah Churchill traversed the
that I
Anne and the earl of Mulgrave, she

love between the lady
recommended George of Denmark to the attention of Charles |
• Coxe's Life of Marlborough. « Evelyn's Diary.

MARY II. 85
11. for the husband of the princess. As the brother of Mrs.

Churchill's husband was already the favourite of the Danish
prince, the long-sighted intriguante might deem that such
would strengthen the puissance of her own family
alliance
at be this as it may, the marriage between the lady

court ;
Anne and prince George of Denmark was formally proposed,

on the part of the king of Denmark, in May 1683. King
Charles approved of it, but would not answer finally until
he had spoken to his brother, the duke of York, who, ac-
cording to public report, replied, " that he thought it very
convenient and suitable, and gave leave by M. Lente, the
Danish envoy, that the prince George should make appU-
cation to his daughter, the lady Anne." ^ The duke of York
regrets the match in his own journal, observing, "that he
had had httle encouragement, in the conduct of the prince
of Orange, to marry another daughter in the same interest."
William of Orange, however, did not identify his own in-
terest with that of the Danish prince ; for directly he heard
that he washke to become his brother-in-law, he sent Ben-
tinck to England to break the marriage if possible. The
Orange machinations proved useless, excepting that the mar-
riage was rendered somewhat unpopular by a report being
raised that prince George of Denmark was a suitor recom-
mended by Louis XIV. Nevertheless, the protestantism of

I the Dan^'=ih prince was free from reproach, and therefore
I there was no reason why he should find favour in the eyes
I
of Louis.
The prince of Denmark had been distinguished by an act

[
of generous valour before he came to England.
was en- He
one of the tremendous battles between Sweden and
gaged in
Denmark, where his brother, king Christiem, commanded in
person: the king, venturing too rashly, was taken prisoner
by the Swedes, when
prince George, rallying some cavalry,
cut his way through a squadron of the Swedes, and rescued
his royal brother.* The prince had no great appanage or
interest in his own country, only about 5000 crowns per
> Letters of Philip, second earl of Chesterfield, p. 244.

* Atlas Geographicus.
,,
/
w MARY II.
annum ; therefore it was considered desirable that he should

remain at the court of England, without taking his wife to
Denmark. Prince George arrived in London, on the fftliof

July, 1783; that day he dined publicly at Whitehall with
the royal family, and was seen by a great crowd of people,—

among others, by Evelyn, who has left the following descrip.
tion of " I again saw the prince George, on the 25th of
him :
July; he has the Danish countenance, blonde ; of few words,

spake French but ill, seemed somewhat heavy, but is reported
to be valiant." —
" I am told from Whitehall," says another
contemporary, " that prince George of Denmark is a person
of a very good mien, and had dined with the king, queen, and
duke of York, who gave the prince the upper hand." ' This
was on a public dinner-day, in the same manner as the court
of France dined at Versailles and the Tuileries, where the
people were admitted to see the royal family. " The court
will soon return to Windsor, where the nuptials between the
prince and lady Anne
will be arranged and completed.^ His
marriage-gifts, which are very noble, are presented to her,
and their households will be settled after the manner of those
of the duke of York and the duchess, but not so numerous,
A chapter will be held at Windsor for choosing prince George
into the most noble order of the Garter ; but the prince hath
desired it may be deferred, till he hath written to the king of
Denmark for his leave to forbear wearing the order of the
Elephant, for it would not be seemly to wear that and the
order of the Garter at the same time." It is scarcely need-
ful to observe, that the " leave " was granted by the king
of Denmark.
The marriage of the princess Anne took place at St.
James's chapel, on St. Anne*s-day, July 28th, o.s., 1683, at
ten o'clock at night. Her uncle, Charles II., gave her away;
queen Catharine, the duchess of York, and the duke of York,
were present.' Unlike the private marriage of the weeping
princess Maiy, which took place in her own bedchamber, the
* Memoirs by sir Richard Bulstrode, envoy at the courts of Brussels and
Spain, p. 349.
' This was a mistake; the marriage was celebrated in the palace of the duke
of York, at St. James's. * Echard, vol. iii. p. 696.
; ; —
MARY II. m
bridal of Anne of York and George of Denmark was a bright
nocturnal festivity, brilliant with light and joyous company.
Most of the nobility then in London were present. The peo-
ple took their part in the fete ; they kindled their bonfires at
their and in return wine-conduits, shows, and diversions
doors,
were provided for them, and the bells of each church in Lon-
don rang all night. The marriage was commemorated by a

courtly pretender to literature, Charles Montague, subse-
quently earl of Halifax, who perpetrated an ode, from which
the only passages that bear any personal reference to the
bride and bridegroom are here presented to the reader

:
" Wliat means this royal beauteous pair ?

This troop of youths and virgins heavenly fair.
That docs at once astonish and delight P
Great Charles and his illustrious brother here.
No bold assassinate need fear
Here is no harmful weapon found.
Nothing but Cupid's darts and beauty here can wound.
* * * » «
See, see ! how decently the bashful bride
Does bear her conquests j with how little pride
She views that prince, the captive of her charms,
Who made the North with fear to quake.
And did that powerful empire shake
Before whose arms, when great Gustavus led.
The frighted Roman eagles fled."
The succeeding morning of the nuptials, the princess sat in

state with her bridegroom, to receive the congratulations of
the courts of foreign ambassadors, the lord mayor and alder-
men, and various public companies.
Many politicians of the da,y rejoiced much that the princess
Anne was safely married to prince George, because the death
of Marie Therese, the queen of France, left Louis XIV. a
widower only two days after these nuptials, and it was sup-
posed that the duke of York would have made great efforts to
marry his daughter to that sovereign.' King Charles settled
on his niece, by act of parliament, 20,000/. per annum, and
from his own purse purchased and presented to her, for a resi-
dence, that adjunct to the palace of Whitehall which was called
the Cockpit, (formerly its theatre) . This place was built by
Hemy VIII., for the savage sport which its name denotes.
' MS. of Anstis, Garter king-at-arms.
88 MAKY II.
It had long been disused for that purpose, but had been
adapted as a place of dramatic representation until the rebel.
lion.' It had been granted by royal favoiu* on lease to lord
Danby, of whom it was now purchased. The Cockpit appears
to have been situated between the present Horse-guards and
Downing-street, and it certainly escaped the great fire which
I 3
destroyed the palace of Whitehall, being on the other side
of the way. The entry was fi'om St. James*s-park, which lay
between it and St. James's-palace ; and as that was the town
residence of the duke of York, the vicinity to the dwelling of
his beloved child was very convenient.
When the establishment of the princess Anne of Denmark
was appointed by her royal uncle, Sarah Churchill, secretly
mistrusting the durability of the fortunes of her early bene-

duchess of York, expressed an ardent wish to
factress, the
become one of the ladies of the princess Anne, who requested
her father's permission to that efiFect. The duke of York
immediately consented, and the cii'cumstance was announced
by the princess in the following billet :
"THE Princess Anne op Denmark to Mrs. Churchill.*

" Tlie duke of York came in just as you were gone, and made no difficulties;
but has promised me that I shall have you, which I assure you is a great joy to
me. I sliould say a great deal for yom' kindness in offering it, but I am not
good at compliments. I will only say, that I do take it extreme kindly, anil
shall be ready at any time to do you all the service that is in my power."
Long years afterwards, Anne's favourite asserted that she

only accepted this situation in compliance with the solicita-
tions of her royal mistress with what degree of truth, the
:
above letter shows. In the same accoimt of " her conduct,"

Mrs. ChurchiU (then the mighty duchess of Marlborough) de-
scribes the qualities she possessed, which induced the strong
affection enduringly testified for her by the princess. The
was the great charm of her frankness, which disdained
first
all flattery; next was the extreme hatred and horror that
both felt for lady Clarendon, the aunt of Anne, because that
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 32. Malone has, with antiqua-
rian care, traced the transitions of the Cockpit; there was likewise, according
to his text, a theatre so called in Drury-lane.
' Coxe's Marlborough, vol. i. p. 21.
1
IP1
V
)
MAUY II.
lady "looked like a mptl woman, and talked like a scholar."*

Tills object of their mutual dislike was wife to the uncle of
the princess, Henry carl of Clarendon ; she had been gover-

ness to the princess before her marriage with prince George
ofDenmark, and was at present her first lady. The style in
which Flora ladyClarendon wrote was, as may be seen in the
Clarendon Letters, superior to that of any man of her day.
Her letters are specimens of elegant simplicity, therefore
thecharge of scholarship was probably true. As to Mrs.
Churchill's influence over the princess, she evidently pursued
a system which may be
often seen practised in the world by
dependents and inferiors. She was excessively blunt and
bold to every one but the princess, who, of course, felt that
deference from a person rude and violent to every other

human creature, was a double-distilled compliment. The
complaisance of the favourite only lasted while the lady Anne
was under the protection of her uncle and father : we shall I ll
il
see it degenerate by degrees into insulting tyranny.
In the romfince of her friendship, the princess Anne re-

nounced her rank in her epistolary correspondence with
hitich
her friend. "One day she proposed to me," says Sarah

Churchill, " that wh .^never I should be absent from her, we
might, in our letters, write ourselves by feigned names, such

as would import nothing of distinction of rank between us.
Morley and Freeman were the names she hit on, and she left
me to choose by which of them I would be callcrl, My
frank, open temper'' naturally led me to pitch upr Freeman, >
and so the princess took the other." These names were ex-
tended to the spouses of the ladies, and Mr. Morley and Mr.
Freeman were adopted by prince George of Denmark and
colonel Churchill. Other sobriquets were given to the father
and family of the princess ; and this plan was not only used
for the convenience of the note-correspondence which per-
• Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 10. The editor of the Claren-
don Letters observes on the abuse of lady Clarendon, that it was impossible foi-
the favourite of Anne to have comprehended the virtues of a mind like lady
Clarendon's.
' However virtuously the duchess of Marlborough abstained from praising
others, no one can deny that her praises of herself arc fluent and cordial in the
extreme.
—
00 MARY II.
petually passed between the friends, but it subsequently

masked the scries of dark political intrigues, guided bv
Sarah Churchill, in the Revolution. The following note \m
written a little before this system of equality was adopted
while it was yet in cogitation in the mind of Anne, who was

then absent from her favourite at the palace of Winchester
where she was resting after she had accompanied her fatlier
the duke of York, in his yacht to review the fleet at Ports-
mouth :
"THE PttlNCKSa ANNK TO LaDY ClIUBClIILL.'

" Windiestcr, Sept, 20, 1684.
" I writ to you lost Wednesday from on- board the yaelit, and left my letter
on Tlmrsday morning at Portsmouth to go by the post, to be as good m mj
word in writing to my dear Indy Churohill by tlie first opportunity. I wan in
80 great haste when I writ, that I fear what I said was nonsense, but I liupe
you have so much kindness for me as to forgive it.

will
" If you will not let mo have the satisfaction of hearing from you again Ix-fow
I see you, let me beg of you not to call mo 'your highness' at every word, but
bo as free with mo as one friend ought to lie with another. And you can iievit
give mo any greater proof of your friendship than in telling me your mind
freely in all things, which I do beg you to do; and if over it were in my power
to serve you, nolxnly would be more ready than myst'lf.
" I am all imjwtienee for Wednesday j till when, farewell."
While the princess of Denmark was enjoying every dis-

tinction and luxury in England, her sister Mary led no such
pleasant life at the Hague, where she either was condemned
to utter solitude, or passed her time surrounded by invidious
spies and insolent rivals. After the death of the noble
Ossory, and the departure of her early friend Dr. Ken, she
had no one near her who dared protect her. Some resist-
ance she must have made to the utter subserviency into
which she subsequently fell, or there would have been no
need of the personal restraint imposed on her from the years
1682 and 1684, when her mode of life was described in the
despatches of the French ambassador, D'Avaux, to his own
court " Until now, the existence of the princess of Orange
:
has been regulated thus: From the time she rose in the
morning till eight in the evening, she never left her cham-
ber, except in summer, when she was permitted to walk
' Coxe's Marlborough, vol. i. p. 21. Charles 11. had, by the request of his
brother, created Churcibill, lord Churchill of Aymouth, in Scotland, Nov. 19th,
1683.
'
MAHY ir. 01
about once in seven or eight days. one had liberty to No

enter maids
her room, not even her lady of honour, nor her
of honour, of which she
has but four ; but she has a troop of
Dutch Jilles de chambre, of whom a detachment every day
mount guard on her, and have orders never to leave her."
In this irksome restraint, which, after allowing the utmost
for the exaggeration of the inimical French ambassador, it is
impossible to refrain from calling imprisonment, the unfor-
tunate princess of Orange had time sufficient to finish her

education. She passed her days in reading and embroider-
ing, occasionally being occupied with the pencil, for it is cer-
tain slie continued to take lessons of her dwarf drawing-

master, Gibson, who had followed her to Holland for that
purpose. He
probably held a situation in her household,
as the tiny manikin was used to court-service, having been
page of the backstairs to her grandfather, Charles I.** It

may be thought that a princess who was a practical adept
would have proved, subsequently, a great
with the pencil,
patron of pictorial art as queen of Great Britain and Ire-
land. Such hopes were not fulfilled. The persons in whose
society Mary of England chiefly delighted were, her best-
beloved friend and early playfellow, Miss, or (according to
the phraseology of that day,) Mrs. Anne Trelawney, then
her favourite maid of honour, and her good nurse, Mrs.
Langford, whose husband, a clergyman of the church of
England, was one of her chaplains, and devotedly attached
to her. All were detested by the prince of Orange, but no
no savage rudeness, could make these friends
brutal affronts,
to witiulraw from the service of his princess

of infancy offer
when Dr. Ken did, v/ho, at last, finding he could do no

good at the court of the Hague, retired to England. Dr.
Ken was succeeded, as almoner to the princess of Orange,
by a very quaint and queer clergyman of the old-world
fashion, called Dr. Covell.
It was not very probable that the restless ambition of the
prince of Orange would permit his wedded partner to remain
' Ambassadcs D'Avaux, vol. iv. p. 217 ; Bibliothfeque du Roi, Paris.
' Grainger's Biography, vol. iv. p. 119.
t i-'t .11
MARY II.
r
Rt the Palnco of tlio Wood, or at Dicrcn, surrouiulod l)v Ik,
loyalist chaplaiiiM, nurses, and (hvarf pa^cM oi' the coiirt of

CliarloM I., (du'rishiii^ in iicr mind tlioufj^lits of tlu^ lofty und
ideal past, of the poets, artists, and cavaliers of the old nnijr.
iiifieent eonrt of Wliiti^liall. No; Mary's claims were too
near the throne of (Sreat Britain to permit him thus to spare
'i:
'1
her as an auxilian. After he had jijrieved her hy nc^'liet
humhled her hy the preference he showed for lu^r women,

and eondemiuMl her to solitude, for which she had little pro
feronee, his next step was to persecute her for all lier ramilv
attachments, and insult her for her filial tenderness to her

father. He assailed her ail'eetion for him by indu(;in^ her to
believe him piilty of crimes, vvhiidi only the most dariiij^
political slanderers laid to his char{;e. Above all, VVillinni
made a crime of the reverence his princess bore to her f^niiid.
father, Charhvs I., for whom he seems to have harboured im
implacable hatred, although in the same dej^reo of relatioi..
ship to himself as to Mary. The proceedinjjjs of the prince

of Oran}2;c, in breakiu}^ down his wife's spirit aecordinj; to
the above system, were thus minutely detailed to her kins-
man, Louis XIV., by his ambassador to tlu; States, D'Avnux;

" They have printed an iusohmt book against the duke of
York in Holland, whom they accuse of cutting the throat of
the earl of Essex. The English envoy, Chudleigh, rcnioii-
strated, but it had no other eflect than exciting Juricu to
present this book publicly to the prince of Orange as his
own work but the worst of all was, that, after this out-
;
rage on her father, the princess of Orange was forced hy

lier husband to go to hear Juricu preach a political ser-
mon. Chudleigh, however, resented so earnestly the ca-
lumnies of Jm'ieu and the conduct of the prince, that he
was no longer invited to the court-cutertainmenta at the
Hague. A few days afterwards, the princess was sitting in
her solitary chamber on the anniversary of the death of her
grandfather, Charles I. She had assumed a habit of deep
mourning, and meant to devote the whole of the day to fast-
ing and prayer, as was her family custom when domesticated
with her father and mother. Her meals were always lonely,
MARY ri.
nnd on this
anniversary she Mnpposod that she mij^ht fast
without iiitiMTuption. The prineo of Onuijê eanie iiiutxpect-
eillv into her apartment, and looking at her niournin;; habit,

scornfully ha(U^ lier, in an imperious tone, *(io ehanê it for
the {,'!iy<'«t dress The prine(!ss was obliged to

she had !'
ohoy. He then tohl her he meant sh(! shouhl dine in pub-
lic." Now it is not v(n'y easy to make a woman dine when

hIio resolves to fast. " The prineess/' pursues D'Avaux,
"saw all tlie dishes of a state dinner su(!cessively presented
to lur, hut dismissed them one after the otlier, and ato
nothing,'. In the eveniu}*, the prince of Oranjije commanded
her to accompany liim to the eonunly, where he luwl not been
for scveml months, and whicb he bad ordered on purpose

at this n(!W outrajê to lier feelinj^s, the princess burst into
tears, and in vain entreated bim to spare bcr, and excuse her
compliance."
from the 30th of January,
This was tlie final stnigfijlc;
1681-5, there isno instance to be found of Mary's repug-
nance to any outra{j;e eftected by her husband ajâinst her
family. The chanjije, for some mysterious reason, was occa-
sioned by the domestication of her c{msin Monmouth at her
court. The contest of ])artics in Enj^larul had ended in the
restoration duke of York, to his natural
of her father, the
place in and Monmouth took his turn of
the succession,
banishment in Holland and Brussels. It was part of the
'
D'Avaux' Aiiibiiasiwlos, vol. iv. p. 262; Hib. du lloi, PnriH. A brilliant
reviewer in tlio (Juarterly lloview biw coniinended uh for rectifyinn {ho miHtiiko
ill the Knjjflish edition of D'Avaux, wbiitli states " that tbo (Liy of fasting and
Imniiliatiou observed by the princess of Oriingc was on tlio anniversary of the
deiitli of James I. (which by the way occurred on March 25); but wo uncon-
sciously amended this error merely by going to the native language and genuine
edition of D'Avaux* Anibnasades. The misstatement (of whicli wo were not

aware until the learncil author of the article in the Quarterly Review mentioned
it) was probably prej)iu'ed for the Engl.sh reader in the same spirit which ani-
mated all authorized history of the royal Stuarts in the last century. Several
points were gained by the iiilsification of a word or two in the English edition:
at the same time it acquitted the hero of Nassau of an inexcusable family out-
rage, and gave some support to the atrocious calunuiy invented in the seven-
teenth century, that Charles I. poisoned his father .Fames I., or wherefore should
Buch grief be manifested on the anniversary of the death of the latter? It ia
desirable, on this head, to state, that in the Paris edition of D'Avaux ho writes
direotly after the anniversary of January 30, not of March 25; and that Henry
earl of Cloi-endon, in his Diary, describes the anniversary of the death of Charles
I. as ever kept by Jtuiics II. and his fiunily, in fasting, prayer, and sorrow.
94 MARY II.
policy of the prince ofOrange to receive this rival aspirant

for the crown of Great Britain with extraordinary aflPection,
insomuch that he permitted the princess the most unheard of
indulgences to welcome him. " The prince of Orange/' savi
D'Avaux, "was heretofore the most jealous of men. Scarcely
would he permit the princess to speak to a man, or even to a
woman; now he presses the duke of Monmouth to come after
dinner to her apartments, to teach her country-dances. Like.
wise, the prince of Orange charged her, by the complaisance

she owed to him, to accompany the duke of Monmouth in
skating parties this great frost. A woman in common life
would make herself a ridiculous sight if she did as the prin-

cess of Orange does, who is learning to glide on the ice with
her petticoats trussed up to her knees, skates buckled on her
shoes, and sliding absurdly enough, first on one foot and
then on the other .^'^ The duchess of Orleans scruples rot
to accuse Mary of coquetry with the duke of Monmouth
The strange scenes described by D'Avaux were doubtless the
foundation of her opinion; but what is still stranger, the
literary duchess considers that Mary gave reason for scandal
with D'Avaux himself. William discovered, it seems, that

an interview had taken place between his princess and this
ambassador, at the home of one of her Dutch maids of
honour, mademoiselle Trudaine: this lady was instantly
driven from her service by the prince, with the utmost dis-
grace. William's jealousy was probably a political one, and
he dreaded lest some communication prejudicial to his vieivs
might take place between Mary and her father, through the
medium of the French ambassador. D'Avaux himself does
not mention the interview in his letters, nor show any symp-
tom of vanity regarding the princess ; neither does he men-
tion the redoubtable adventure of the arm-chair, before
detailed. t.
The resentment of the envoy Chudleigh was not to he

kept within bounds, when the proceedings relative to Mon-
mouth took place. He had previously remonstrated witli
warmth at the public patronage offered by the prince of
Orange, both to the libeller Jurieu, and to his libel on the
» lyAvaux, p. 240.
MARY II. 95
father
now, when he found that the princess
of the princess;
went constantly, squired by

Monmouth, to hear the sermons
of this calumniator
of her parent, the English envoy ex-
pressed himself angrily enough for the prince of Orange to

insist on his recall, in which request he obliged his princess
to join. The motive, however, that the prince and princess
gave for this requisition was not the real one, but a slight
affront on their dignity, such as hereditary sovereigns have
often borne without even a frown. It was the carnival: the
snow at the Hague was hard and deep all the Dutch world
;
were sleighing in fanciful sledges, and masked in various

characters. Among others, the princess of Orange being
lately taken into the favour of her lord and master, he drove
out with her on the snow in a sleigh: both were masked. The
Orange sleigh met that of the envoy Chudleigh, who refused
to break the road, and th,. princely sledge had to give way
before the equipage of the proud Englishman.* The prince

and princess both wrote complaints of ChudleigVs disre-
spect, and petitioned that he might be recalled. Chudleigh
wrote likewise, giving his own version of the real cause of
the offence, and of the inimical proceedings of the Dutch
court against all who were devoted to the British sovereign.
As for his alleged crime, he made very light of it, saying,
"that as the prince and princess were masked, which im-
plied a wish to appear unknown, the ill-breeding and imper-
tinence would have been m

any way to have testified ac-
quaintance with them ; that, in fact, he knew them not, and
that he was on the proper side of the road. If the circum-

stance had happened to his own right-royal master and mis-
tress, he should have done the same, but they knew too well
the customs of their rank to have taken offence. As for

recall, he joined in the request, for he coidd not stay at the
Hague to see and hear what he saw and heard daily.'' The
result was, that Chudleigh returned to England, and Bevil
Skelton was sent as envoy. Unfortunately, he gave still less

satisfaction to the Orange party.
' D'Avaux' Ambassodcs ; Biblioth^que du Eoi, Paris. Likewise Dartmouth's

Notes to Burnet.
Ill
96 MARY II.
a The prince of Orange," says D* Avaux, " knew

I
not how
to caress Monmouth sufficiently: balls and parties were in.
cessantly given for him. Four or five days since, he went
alone with the princess of Orange on the ice in a traineau
to a house of the prince three leagues from the Hague; thev
dined there, and it was the duke of Monmouth that led out
the princess. He dined at table with the princess, who, be-
fore, always ate by herself. was remarked that the prin.

It
cess, who never was accustomed to walk on foot in public
places, was now for ever promenading in the mall, leaning
on the arm of Monmouth; and that the prince, formerly
the most jealous person in existence, suffered this gallantry
which all the world noticed, between the duke and his wife.'
The gaiety at the court of the Hague," he continues, "is
universal. William himself set all the world dancing at tlie
balls he gave, and encouraged his guests and his wife by

il;'
'
dancing himself. He likewise obliged the princess to le.

ceive at her court, and to countenance, the duke of Mon-
mouth's mistress or secondary wife, lady Harriet Went-
worth." The ill-treated heiress of Biiccleugh, Monmouth's
duchess and the mother of his children, was living deserted
in England: she had been the most particular friend and
companion of the princess of Orange, who ought, therefore,
to have resented, rather than encouraged any introduc-
tion to her supplanter. The duke of York wrote, with un-
wonted sternness, to his daughter, remonstrating against
these proceedings. She shed tears on her father's letter;
but she answered, "that the prince was her master, and
would be obeyed." Eye-witnesses did not deem that the
conduct of the princess was induced by mere obedience,
She was either partial to Monmouth, as her friend and—
correspondent, the German duchess of Orleans, impUes,-
or she rushed into pleasure with the hilarity of a caged bird
into the open air. If her seclusion had been as severe as the
French ambassador declared it was, she was glad of hberty

and exercise on any terms. At the conclusion of one of his
letters of remonstrance, her father bade her warn her hus-
> D*Avaux' Ambassades, vol. iv. p. 5J17.
.1;
'^ t = )
MARY IT. &r
band
" that if 3 king and himself were removed by death
from their pati 'le duke of Monmouth, whatsoever the prince
ini<rht think of his friendship, would give them a struggle
before they could possess the throne of Great Britain." ' A
dim light thrown on the correspondence between James II.
is
and his daughter, by garbled extracts made by Dr. Birch, a

chaplain of the princess Anne. Some motive fettered his
transcribing pen, since letters, apparently of the strongest
personal interest, furnish him but with two or three broken
sentences; for instance, in January the 27th, 1685, a few
days before the duke of York ascended the throne, when
he virote to remonstrate with her on her extraordinary con-
duct with Monmouth. Dr. BircVs brief quotation from this

paternal reproof is, that her father " supposes she was kept
in awe;" that from Mary's answer, "denies being kept in

awe, —her condition much happier than he believed." ^
All the noisy gaieties and rejoicings at the Orange court

were hushed and dispelled, as if by the sweep of an en-
chanter's wand, on the noon of February 10, (o. s.) 1685,

when the tidings arrived of the death of Charles II., and the
peaceable accession of the princess's father to the throne of
Great Britain, James II. D'Avaux thus describes the
as
change effected by the announcement of the news at the
palace of the Hague :^ "Letters from England, of the 6th
of February, o. s., arrived here at seven this morning they ;
communicated the sorrowful tidings of the death of the king

of England, Charles II. The prince of Orange did not go
into the chamber of his where she was holding a court
wife,
of reception for the ladies of the Hague he sent a message, :
requesting her to come down and hear the news. The duke
of Monmouth came likewise to listen to these despatches.
It is said that Mary manifested deep affliction at the death
of her uncle. Monmouth retired to his own lodging, and
came to the prince at ten in the evening : they were shut uji^_,
together till midnight sounded. Then Monmouth, the samc^

'
Dalrymple's Appendix, and Macpherson's History of Great Britain.
' Additional MS. 4163, vol. i. ; Birch Papers, British Museum.
iJ Avaux AinuaHsaues, voi. iv. j>p, 21«— 2G6.
VOL. VII. H
98 MARY II.
night, left the Hague

secretly and so well was his departure
;
hidden, that was supposed at noon the next day that he

it
was in hed. The prince of Orange gave him money for h«

journey/'* To his daughter, James II. announced his pros.
perous accession with the utmost warmth of paternal tender.
ness ; to the prince of Orange, with remarkable dryness and
brevity.'' The prince, who had never supposed that liis
father-in-law would ascend the British throne, after the

strong attempts to exclude him on account of his rehgion,
found himself, if regarded as his enemy, in an alarming pre.
dicament. His first manoeuvre, in consequence, was to take
out of his wife's hand the paternal letter sent to her by hi I
father,and read it aloud to the assembled states of Holland

as if it had been written to himself.^ He wrote to the new
sovereign an apologetical epistle in the lowest strain of humi.

lity, explaining " that Monmouth only came as a suppliant,
was shown a little common hospitality, and had been sent
away." A glow of fervent enthusiasm and a prostration of
devotion now marked In one of

his letters to James II.
epistles William says,
—
" Nothing can happen which wil
his
make me change the fixed attachment I have for your

interests. I should be the most unhappy man in the world
if you were not persuaded of it, and should not have the
goodness to continue me a little in your good graces, since |
I shall be, to the last breath of my life, yours, with zeal and
fidelity.""
The usually afiectionate correspondence between James II,
and his daughter Mary, had now become interspersed with I
their differences of opinion on religion. The partialities of
each were in direct opposition to the other, his for the —

church of Rome, she frequenting the worship of the Dutch |
dissenters. Neither had much regard for the true resting.
place between the two, — the reformed church of England, as I
established at the period of the present translation of the
Scriptures. According to Dr. Birch's meagre extracts, king
> D'Avaux' Ambassades, vol. iv. pp. 217-266. D'Avaxix dates Feb. 20, tat
|
he has used the new style.

* Dalrymple's Appendix, where the letter is quoted. ' Macpherson.
* Dalrymple's Appendix, French letter.
I
MARY II. 99
James wrote to his daughter Mary, from Windsor, August

22nd, to express—
•'
His surprise to find her so ill-informed of the bishop of London's behaviour,
both to the late king and to liira, both as duke and king, as to write [to him]
in his favour ; that the bishop deserved no favour from him, and was far from
having the true church-of- England principles."
In the answer of Mary, dated the 26th of August, she " vin-
dicated her former preceptor as a good and loyal man."
*
An error, fatal to himself, was committed by James II., in
complying with the request that his daughter was induced to

join in, by allowing Henry Sidney to return to the Hague as
the commander of the English forces, which were lent to the

prince of Orange as a support equally against the ambition
of France and the party in Holland adverse to the stadthol-
dership, for every officer who
did not become a partisan of
the views Orange on the throne of Great
of the prince of
Britain was an object of persecution, and was very glad to
ohtain his own dismissal and return to England. Thus all

who remained were the pledged agents of William's ambi-
tion. Since the departure of Dr. Ken, it was noticed that
[Mary had attended more than ever the preachings of the
Dutch dissent. It was observed that Monmouth, who had
accompanied her to their meetings, had, in his latter years,
manifested great partiality to the fatalist sects. The rash
I
invasion of England by Monmouth, his nominal assumption

of the royal dignity, and his execution, were events which
followed each other with startling celerity. It is evident,
from his own memoirs, that James II. regretted being forced
to put Monmouth to death. Those who have read the pro-
clamation, in which Monmouth calls his uncle "the mur-
derer and poisoner of Charles II.," will see that, in publish-
ing so unfounded a calumny, he had rendered any pardon
from Janies II. a self-accusation. Whether the mind of
I Mary had been warped against her father by the party-
j
exiles who swarmed in Holland, or whether her motives were
the more degrading ones attributed to her by her relative
[and correspondent, Elizabeth Charlotte,'^ (the second wife of
' Additional MSS, 4163, vol. i. ; British Museum.
' Memoirs of the Duchess of Orleans.
H 2
100 MARY FT.
Philippe duke of Orleans,) can scarcely he surmised; but
reasoning from facts and results, it is evident that sue never
forgave her father the death of Monmouth.

Since the departure of Dr. Ken, it was impossihle for tlie
father of the princess to send any loyal person, in any official
capacity, who could be endured at her court. Skelton, the
new envoy, was liked still less than Chudleigh. A complete

antipathy had subsisted between Dr. Ken and William of
/
Orange, but the dignity of character pertaining to the disin-
terested churchman had awed the prince from the practices
to which he had recourse in order to discover what Ken's
successor. Dr. Covell, thought of the msirried felicity of tlie
princess, and of the conduct of the persons composing tlie
court at the Hague. Truly, in this proceeding the hero of
Nassau verified the proverb, that eavesdroppers hear no

good of themselves ; and, assuredly, the peepers into private
letters deserve not more self-grjitification than the listeners
at windows or keyholes. The princess was at Dieren, sur-
rounded by the inimical circle of the Villiers, to whose aid a
fourth, their sister Catharine, had lately arrived from Eng-

land, and had married the marquess de Puissars, a Frcncii
nobleman at the court of Orange. It was an allusion to the
infamous Elizabeth Villiers which exasperated the Dutch
phlegm of "William of Orange into the imprudence of acknow-
ledging the un gentlemanlike ways by which he obtained
possession of the quaint document written by his wife's
almoner. Dr. Covell. The prince had, by some indirect
means, learned that the correspondence between Covell and
Skelton, the envoy, passed through the hands of D'Alonne,
the secretary to the princess. After obtaining and copying
Dr. Covcll's letter, he sent it to Lawrence Hyde, the uncle
of the princess of Orange, accompanied by his holograph |
letter in French, of which the following is a translation :'—
" I had for some time suspected," says the prince of Orange,'^ " tliat Dr.
Covell was not a faithfnl servant to the princess. The last time I was at the j
Hague, a letter fell into my liands which he had written to Skelton, tlie aiii'
bassador. I opened it, and at my return to Dieren, tvhere the doctor vas ici/J
j
the princess, I took the doctor's cypher and decyphered it, as you will see bj
Clarendon Correspondence, vol. i. p. 165. Ibid.
I /
! —
MARY II. 101
the copy annexed; the original, (which I hiive,) written and signed with his
OHTi Imnil, he acknowledged when I showed it to him. You will, no doubt, be
surj)ri8ed that a man of his jirofession could bo so gi-eat a knave."
The surprise is, however, greater to find that a prince, who

bore a character for licroism, and even for magnanimity,-
should first purloin a private letter, break the seal to espy
the contents, then take the doctor's cypher, —but how, un-
less his serene highness had picked the doctor's desk, 'he
does not explain, —and then continue his practices till he
had laboured out a fair copy of the letter, which, to com-
plete his absurdity, he sent to the very parties that the old
doctor especiallywished should know how he treated his
wife. James II. and Clarendon were not a little diverted
at the fact, that the prince of Orange had spent his time
in making out a cyphered letter as complimentary to him-
self and court as the following :
" De. CovEiL TO Me. Skelton, the Ambassador.

" Dieren, October ^, 1685.
"Your honour may be astonished at the news, but it is too true, that the
princess's heart is and yet she every day, with mistress Jesson
like to break;
and madame Zulestein, [Mary Worth,] counterleits the greatest joy, and looks
upon us as dogged as may be. We dare no more speak to her. The prince
hath infallibly made her his absolute slave, and there is an end of it. I wish to
God I could see the king give you some good thing for your life ; I would have
it out of the power of any revocation, for, I assure you, I fear the prince will for
ever rule the roast. As for Mr. Chudleigh,' if his business be not done beyond
the power of the prince before the king [James II.] die, he will be in an ill
taking. But I wonder what makes the prince so cold to you. None but infa-
mous people must expect any tolerable usage here.
" I beseech God preserve the king [James II.] many and many years. I do
not wonder much at the new marchioness's [Catharine Villiers] behaviour, it is
so like the breed. We shall see fine doings if we once come to town. What
would you say if the princess should take her into the chapel, or, in time, into
the bedchamber? I cannot fancy the sisters [Villiers] will long agree. You
guess right about Mr. D'AlIonne, for he is secretary in that, as well as other
private aflfairs.
"I not get loose to meet you at Utrecht: it will not be a month
fear I shall
beforewe meet at the Hague. I never so heartily longed to come to the Hague.
God send us a happy meeting
" The princess is just now junketing with madame Bentinck [Anne Villiers]
and Mrs. Jesson, in madame Zulestein's chamber. Believe me, worthy sir, ever
with all sincere devotion to be,
" Your honour's, &c.
"Let me know how you were received at the hoff, [court]."
This letter strongly corroborates the intelligence regard-
• The former envoy, displaced by the complaint of the prince.

102 MARY II.
ing the princess transmitted by the French ambassador

D'Avaux, for the information of his court and is, moreover j
corroborated by the previous remonstrances of Dr. Ken on

the ill-treatment of Mary. Nor, when the strong family con-
nexions are considered of the intriguante Elizabeth Villiers
represented by old Dr. Covell as surrounding the princens
at all times, equally in her court and the privacy of her
chamber, will his picture of the slavery to which she was

reduced be deemed exaggerated.
With Dr. Covell a general clearance of all persons sup.
posed to be attached to the royal family in England took
place they were all thrust out of the household of the prin-
:
cess. Bentinck, whose wife is mentioned in Dr. Covell's

letter, thus details their dismission in an epistle to Sidney;'
" You will be surprised to find the changes at our court, for
her royal highness, madame the princess, on seeing the letter
which the prince had got by chance, dismissed Dr. Covell,
without any further chastisement, because of his profession;
and as it was suspected that Mrs. Langford and Miss Tre-
lawney had been leagued with him, her royal highness,
madame the princess, has 'jent them off this morning. The
second chaplain, Langford, is also in this intrigue. I do not
complain of the malice these people have shown in my case,"

continued Bentinck, " seeing that they have thus betrayed
their master and mistress. I beg, that if you hear any one
speak of the sort of history they have charitably made at
our expense, you will send us word, for they have reported
as if we [Bentinck and his wife] had failed of respect to her
royal highness madame the princess at our arrival at Houns-
lardyke, and I should wish to 'know what is said.'" If
Bentinck and his master could have obtained Barillon's de-
spatches by some such " accident" as gave them possession
of Dr. Covell's letter, they would have found that king
James remarked reasonably enough on the incident. He

said, that " If the prince of Orange really behaved like a
true friend to him, and a good husband to his daughter, it
* Sidney Diary, edited by Mr. Blencowe, vol. ii. pp. 254, 255, where may be
6611 the origiii

MARY II. 108
was strange that he should be so enraged at her earliest

friends and oldest servants writing news by the British re-
sident of her health, and the manner of passing her time."
The king alluded to the fact, " that Mrs. Langford was the
nurse of his daughter Mary, whose husband, Mr. Langford,
was one of her chaplains ; Anne Trelawney, one of her ladies,
had been a playfellow, whom the princess Mary loved better
than any one in the world." The princess suflfered agonies'
when the prince of Orange, suspecting that Anne Trelawney
was among the disapprovers of his conduct, forced her to
return to England at this juncture."'
The prince of Orange informed Lawrence Hyde, the uncle

of the princess, that he left the punishment of Dr. Covell to
his bishop ; but he demanded of king James the dismissal of
the envoy Skelton, for having the queer letter already quoted
written to him by the said Dr. Covell, which, in fact, Skelton
had never received. Hyde drily replied, by the order of the

king, "that frequent changes were great impediments to
business; and reminded him that the other envoy, Chud-
leigh, had been dismissed for a private misunderstanding."
Skelton remained fruitlessly writing to his royal master, cal-

ling his attention to the intrigues by which his son-in-law
was little belief from
working his deposition,^ receiving but
James H., who
would not or could not suspect the
either
faith of a son and daughter, when both of them were writing
to him letters, apparently of an affectionate and confidential
kind, every post-day.* The princess of Orange greatly exas-

perated the French ambassador by the sympathy she mani-
his Protestant countrymen. He wrote to his
fested for
January 3, 1686, —" Only two days ago, she told a storycourt,
of a
' and obscure passage in Mary's early married life has been
This curious
collated and collected from the despatches and diaries of her friends, relatives,
foes, and servants j namely, from those written by her uncle Lawrence, her
husband the prince of Orange, her father, and old friends, as well as by the
French ambassadors, D'Avaux and Barillon; and there is no doubt that there
is much more to be found in private letters and journals, as yet unknown to
biographers. « Barillon, Oct. 1685.

' Dalrymple's Appendix, and Macpherson's History and Stuart Papers, vol. i.
p. 286.
* Dalrymple's Appendix; see a great number from the prince of Orange and
C™ 11
iivui cue AluK
1.1
?
104 MARY II.
fire having been lighted under two young Protestant girls in
France, who were thus made to suffer dreadftil torments."'

The ambassador complained to the prince of Orange, and
requested him "to restrain the princess from talking thus"
but the prince coldly observed, " that he could not." Hoi.
land and England were then full of the refugees who had
fledfrom the detestable persecutions in France. In this in.
stance James II. and his daughter acted in unison, for he
gave them refuge in England, and relieved them with nionev
and other necessaries. It is said, that he sent word to
remonstrate with Louis XIV. on his cruelty .'^
It was in the spring of 1686 that the princess of Orange,

'
1 ', (
I IwlffilnlVi^^H by a manifestation of her conjugal fears, obtained from the

States-General the appointment of body-guards, to attend
on the personal safety of her husband, who hitherto had
been without that indication of the dignity of a soverei"^
prince. The following curious tale of a plot against the hie
or freedom of Mary^s consort, she owed to Dr. Burnet and
one Mr. W. Facio, or Tacio, who afterwards fell out with

each other, and gave different versions of it. Perhaps the
plot itself was a mere scheme for obtaining a place in the
good graces of the prince and princess of Orange. " Sche-
veling is a sea village," begins the memorial, " about two or
three miles from the palace of the Hague, whither ail people,
from the rank of the prince and princess to the lowest boor
and boorine, take the air, in fine weather, on summer even-
ings. A avenue leads to the dunes from the

stately long
back of the Hague palace-gardens, planted on each side with
many rows of tall trees." The dunes (just like those of
Yarmouth) are interspersed with portions of beautiful turf,
• Ambassades D'Avaux, vol. v. p. 219.

* There is direct evidence of this part: see Toone's Chronology, Macpherson,
and a letter of Henry lord Clarendon. Barillon, however, in ono of his letters
to Louis XIV., asserts that James expressed to him the direct contrary. Facts
are, nevertheless, to be preferred to words, even if the words were reported with
truth. James devote<l 50,000/. of the contents of his well-regulated treasury,
to the good work of the hospitable provision for his poor guests. See, likewise,
the works of Dr. Peter Allix, one of the refugee leaders, which overflow with
gratitude to James II., for what the good Huguenot calls Ids inestimable kind'
' InYarmou
mpnn flip sainfi
ness to them in their miseries.
MAIIY II. 105
of the arenaria, or sea-bench grass ; the rest is a desert of

deep, loose sand,
where the roots of this grass do not bind
it consequently,
• a heavy carriage with horses always would
have great difficulty in traversing the road, which was very
troublesome towards the north dunes} "The prince of
Orange/' wrote the informer of the plot, " would often go
illa chariot drawn by six horses, in the cool of a summer's
evening, to take the air for two hours along the sea-shore,
with only one person in the caiTiage with him ; and in order
to avoid all troublesome salutation, he went northward a
great way beyond where the other carriages did walk, none
of Avhich dared follow him, so that he was almost out of
sight." An agent of the king of France went to lie in wait,

with two boats, on the Seheveling beach, each manned with
armed desperadoes : and, when the Dutch prince's carriage

was slowly ploughing its way among the sandy dunes, the
men were to march to sui'round the prince, who, being thus
enclosed between the two gangs, was to be taken, rowed off
to a war under Dutch colours, and earned to France.
brig of
The scheme was attributed to a count Feril, or Fenil, an
Italian officer in a French regiment, who had been banished
from France for killing his enemy in a duel. M. Facio, or

Tacio, then a youth, the son of the man with whom he lodged
at heard the matter in confidence from Fenil.
Duyviliers,
By a notable concatenation of accidents. Dr. Burnet met the
confidant of the conspirator of "the plot," as he bent his
course to Holland. It seems very strange in this story, that
the alleged conspirator, count Fenil, should have trusted his
intentions several months before " the plot " was matured to
this young man, who happened to be travelling to Geneva,
where he happened to encounter Burnet, who happened to
be travelling to Holland, where he happened to find the nar-
rative a convenient means of introduction to the princess
of Orange, for policy forbade her receiving with particular
marks of distinction any exile from her father's court, dur-
ing his short-lived prosperity after the suppression of the
Yarmouth these sea-side

' In plains are called danes, or deans, but both words
meap the same as downs.
106 MARY II.
Monmouth insurrection. Having requested an interview on " If ever she

matt<»r*i '4 life and death with her royal highness, Burnet the Pôtc^
for
told his aJiirminst tale with such effect, that the princess, in Mary perceive
an agony of nj yâl fear, entreated, in her turn, a confer.
t
by lier answer
ence on matters of life and death with some members of the cussing with h
States- General of the Orange faction, to hear and see the iicr own,
and ;
reverend penn'in tell his story' and produce his witness. The time more dij;
resiUt was, tlunl the princess obtained from a majority of the reserve, and w
States-General the appointment of her husband's body.
first
,y reason of
guards, — a step greatly adverse to the terms on which 1'
/R'j entertain foi
held his stadtholdership, and savouring strongly of .yu >,, this niissit
power and dignity. The author of the story, M. racô, ir Orange, whicl
his memorial, published for the purpose of expî'Mg some wisdom and j
falsehoods of hisquondam ally, complains mn<]. <>' the in. of a prosperou
gratitude both of William and Burnet. What became of duke of York,
the count Fenil, on whom the concoction of "the plot" waa empire considt
laid, is not mentioned. illustrious mai
James II. sent his friend William Penn, the illustrious violent than 1
and her husband in Janu-

philanthropist, to his daughter voured to bar
ary 1686, to convince them by his eloquence of the pro- "that king Ji
priety of his abolishing all laws tending to persecution. pension of 48

A Dutch furc'ionary, of the name of Dyckvelt, was long throne." Jan
associated with the benevolent quaker in this negotiation. public or prii
" Penn," says D'Avaux, " wrote with his own hand a long saying "he ra
letter," averring " that many of the bishops had agreed come, if he sc
that the English penal laws were cruel and bad, and ought against himsel
to be annulled." On
which the prince declared, " he would It has been
lose all the revenuesand reversion of the kingdom of Great the princess ^
Britain, to which his wife was heiress, before one should against the lil
be abolished. The princess," adds D'Avaux, "echoed his came frcii tl

words, but much more at lenj i, ud with such sharpnecs, Orange, — ân J
that the marquess d'Albeville 'v'i D'Av? ^ inform-«.o

II. The extr
ant, and was present] was ._ ui. at»tonished at her tone daughter. Tl
and manner." Among other expressions, she said,'' that Whitehall, Nc
> It is a ciirious circwmstance, that Burnet is very cautious in all his alliisionj man not to I
111
to this queer tale, which he does not attempt to narrate either in history or
manuscript. The truth is, that Facio, or Tacio, had printed a version of it, ' Mazm
ttrongly illustrative of the wise proverb, When rogues fall out, &c.
* ^mbaflsades P'AvawE Biblioth^que Royale, PariSj voL v.- p= 67-
;
::WKim
:
m'
«
MAUV ir. 107
"If ever she was queeu of England, she should do more

for the thuiv even (iiicen Elizabeth."
Protestants When
Mary perceived the impi -^sion slu' Imd made on Albevillo
bv her answer to Pimhi, she modified her manner in dis-
cussing with him the ditfTences b( Iwoen her father's views
and her own, adding;, in a more moderate, and at the same
time more dij^nified tone, "1 H[)eak to you, su*, with less
reserve, and witli more liberty than to the king my father,
v reason of the respectful deference which I am obliged

Fjl
t entertain for him and his sentiments." • William L'enn,
i,i this mission, incurred the enmity of the princess of

Orange, which endured through her life. The practical
wisdom and justice which he had shown, as the founder
of a prosperous colony under the patronage of James, when
duke of York, ought to have made the heiress of the British
empire consider herself under inestimable obligations to the
illustrious man of peace. The prince of Orange as less
violent than his wife in the matter, and astutelj endea-
voured to bargain with Penn, as the price of his consent,
"that king James should allow his daughter a haulsome
pension of 48,000/. per annum, as heiress of the British
throne." James II. was rich, and free from debt, either
public or private; but he demurred on this proposition,
sapng "he must first ascertain clearly that this large in-
come, if he sent it out of the country, would not be \ sed
against himself."
It has been shown, that Dr. Burnet's first introduction to
the princess was on account of a plot he had discovered
against the life or liberty of the prince of Orange. He be-
came froui that time extremely intimate at the court if
Orange, —ân intimacy that excited the displeasure of Jamt

11. The extracts are meagre from the king's letter to hi s
daughter. They are as follows: —In a letter, dated from

Whitehall, November he spoke of Burnet " as a
23, 1686,
man not to be trusted, and an iU man." ^ Dec. 7, he com-
'
Mazure's deciphering of Albeville's despatches to James II.
» Additional MS., British Museum, 4163, folio 1.
—
"i:
108 MARY II.
plained of Burnet " as a dangerous man, though he would

seem to be an angel of light." King James added this de^
scription, allowing his enemy the following qualities: that

" Burnet was an ingenious man/'' meaning, in the parlance
of that century, a man of genius, " of a pleasant conversation
and the best flatterer he ever knew." The princess replied QUEEN-1
to her father from the Hague, December 10, in a letter full
of Burnet's praises.'
* Additional MS., British Museum, 4163, folio 1.
Princess Anne gi
at her father's
Birth of Anne
letter to the h
husband —Hei
Death of both
embarrassmen'
—Lady Churc
English ladies
her of his que
iender) —Ann
his mother i
Letters from
Anne at Wind
to archbishop
Princess of Oi
—Interview (
Reproofs of h
The inimical
father, whicl
caused him
younger sist
favourite of
tender affeci
was the best
of her prest
hers, though
he anticipate
and dignity
reigning sov
' See letter o

Mary that she v
—
I I
MARY 11.
QUEEN-REGNAlsT OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.
CHAPTER III.
Princess — —
Anne greatly indulged by her father Death of her daughter Present
at her father's coronation, —
(James II.) Attends the opening of parliament
Birth of Anne's second daughter,Mary—Anne's —Her
state at chapel-royal
letter to the bishopofEly— Her revenue and married — life of her
Character
husband —Her third daughter bom, —
(Sophia) husband
Illness of her
Death of both their children — —Her
Excessive grief of the princess pecuniary
emharrassments —Interview with —Her aunt
her father household
quits her
— Lady Chiu-chill her first lady —Lettersbetween Orange and
the princess of
English ladies —
Letters of James Orange— He informs
II. to the princess of
her of his queen's situation— Birth of the prince of

Wales, Pre-
{called the
tender) —Anne's absence at Bath— Her and
insinuations against the child
his mother —Anne's — her
joy at the people's suspicions at brother's illness
Letters fromthe queen (Mary Orange—
Beatrice) to the princess of Princess
Anne at Windsor—Introduced —
to the pope's legate Orange
Princess of writes
to archbishop Sancroft — PrincessAnne's with
dialogues Clarendon
her uncle
Princess of Orangedeceives her — His
father on
letters husband's
her invasion
— Interview of Anne and Clarendon— her
^Mocks with
father women-^
her
Reproofs of her uncle.
The inimical conduct of the princess of Orange towards her

father,which commenced a few months before his accession,
caused him to bestow a double portion of fondness on her
younger sister. Anne had, in her infancy, been the spoiled
favourite of her mother, while her father lavished his most
tender affections on her elder sister.' At this time Anne

was the best-beloved of his heart he was never happy out
j
of her presence,he was never known to deny a request of

hers, though it was not very easy for her to make one, since
he anticipated her every want and wish. Of course her rank

and dignity were greatly augmented when he became a
reigning sovereign. Charles II. died on the birthday of Anne,
' See
letter of her step-mother, at the end of this chapter, where she reminds
Mary that she was considered his best-beloved in infancy.
110 MARY II.
February 6, 1G85. All thoughts were directed to her on her
father's accession, for the people fully expected the succes.
sion would be continued by her descendants. She had

brought into the world a daughter in the reign of her uncle,
but this child scarcely lived to be baptized. There was, how.
ever, speedy promise of more offspring, insomuch that tlie
princess Anne could take no other part of her father's coro.
nation (St. George's-day, 1685) than beholding it from a
close box in Westminster-abbey, which was prepared for her
below that of the ambassadors.
WB' 1
The princess Anne heard herself mentioned at the corona-
tion of her father in the following prayer :

" O Lord, our
God, who upholdest and governest all things in heaven and
earth, receive our humble prayers for our sovereign lord,
James, set over us by thy grace and providenf?" to be our
king; and so together with him bless his roy^. jnsort o'lr
gracious queen Mary, Catharine the queen-dowager, their
royal highnesses Mary the princess of Orange, nnd the prin-
cess Anne of Denmark, and the whole royal family.' Endue

them with thy holy Spirit, enrich them," &c. &c. concluding
in the words of the supplication for the royal family in our
liturgy. It is a remarkable circumstance, that James II,
thus particularly distinguished both his daughters by name

and titles in this prayer, although in that century, as in the
present, only the heir-apparent among the children of the
sovereign, or at most an heir-presumptive, was usually men-

tioned. In all probability, he thus designated them to pre-
vent all disputes regarding their title to the succession in
case of his death, as their mother was only a private gentle-
woman. The princess of Orange and the princess Anne

were certainly thus named in the liturgy every time divine
service was celebrated by the church of England until they

deposed their father it is an instance that he was not dis-
:
posed, in any way, to slight their claims, either to royalty or

his paternal care. James II. was kinder to his daughters
> Sandford, repeated by Menin, in his Coronation Ceremonials of England, '

Menin's E
p. 16. He edited this as a guide to the coronation of George II., the cere-
monial of which is printed with it.
;
MARY II. Ill
than George II. to his heir, for in the very volume which
gives this information, a similar prayer,' in the very words, is
quoted; but in regard to the nomenclature, only king George

and his queen Caroline are prayed for;
neither Frederick
prince of Wales nor their other children are named.
Great friendship apparently prevailed at the epoch of the
coronation between the princess Anne and her step-mother.
Before the newly crowned queen, Mary Beatrice, commenced
her procession back to Westminster-hall, she entered the box
of the princess Anne,^ to show her dress, and hold friendly
conference Anne : and prince George of Denmark, who bore
his spouse company, conversed with her a considerable time.
The princess Anne accompanied the queen to behold the
grand ceremony of the king's opening his first parliament
both Anne^ and her step-mother were on the right of the
throne they were considered incog. The princess of Den-
:
mark had the satisfaction of hearing the pope and the Virgin
Mary fully defied and renounced before the Catholic queen.
Ten days afterwards. May 23, the princess Anne brought into
the world a daughter, who was baptized Mary, after the
princess of Orange. James II. himself announced this event

to "his son, the prince of Orange," in one of those familiar
letters he wrote to him almost every post " My daughter, :
the princess of Denmark, was

day brought to bed of a
this
girl. I have not time to say more now, but to assure you
that I shall always be as kind to you as you can desire."*
Three days afterwards, the king mentions his uneasiness

regarding her health in another letter to William. "My
daughter was taken ill this morning, having had vapours,
[hysterics,] which sometimes trouble women in her condi-
tion. This frighted us at first, but now, God be thanked,

our fears are over. She took some remedies, and has slept
after them most of this afternoon and evening, and is in a
very good way, which is all I can say to you now, but assure
you of my kindness." On any such alarm regarding the

' Menin's English Coronations ; in the Coronation-service for George II.
' King's MS. British Museum : Becueil de Pieces.
' Evelyn. * Dalryraple'a Appendix.
112 MARY II.
health of his beloved daughter, the king, who was a very

early riser, would enter her apartment and sit by her bed.
side. Her uncle mentions that James's paternal tenderness
would bring him to the sick bed of the princess Anne as
early as five or six in the morning, and he often sat by her
for two hours.*
The state and homage James II. allowed his youngest
daughter to assume at Whitehall chapel are very remarkable.
James II. himself went to mass, but he permitted the prin-
cess Anne to occupy the royal closet at Whitehall, and at
1'::
other palace chapels ; and it was his pleasure, that the same
honours were to be paid her as if he were present in person.
Evelyn being present at Whitehall chapel, saw Dr. Tennfcon
make three conges towards the royal closet; after service,
Evelyn asked him, "Why he did so, as king James was

not there ?" Tennison replied, that the king had given liim
express orders to do so, whenever his daughter, the princess
Anne, was present.^ The place of the princess was on the
left hand of the royal seat the clerk of the closet stood by
;
her chair, as if the king himself had been at chapel. This

anecdote is a confirmation of the positive assertion of James
himself and other authors, 'that he neither attempted to im-
pede nor persecute her in her attendance on the church-of-

England worship, but rather to give every distinction and
encouragement to it.^ It was, perhaps, an impolitic indul-
gence to feed his daughter's appetite for trifling ceremonials
of bowing and personal homage from the altar, as if she bad
been the visible head of the established church ; but James
II., though an acute observer of facts, which he skilfully
combined as a commander, a coloniser, or a financier, knew
nothing of the higher science of the springs of passion on the
human mind. He treated his daughter Anne as the ultimate

heiress to the British throne ; he fostered in her disposition
an ambition for the mere externals of majesty, without con-
•Letters of James II. to the prince of Orange, dated June 2nd, (5th,) 1685,
Dalrymple'a Appendix, part i. p. 17.
* Evelyn's Diary, vol. iii,
p. 153.
* Lord Clarendon's Journal, vol. iii. p. 201. Duchess of Marlborough's Con-
duct, p. 15.
JLVRY IT. 113
sidering that she would not choose to relinquish it at the

birth of a brother. In the following letter, addressed to Dr.
Francis Turner, bishop of Ely, she seems to avoid all these
distinctions, perhaps out of respect for the character of the
apostolic man she wished to hear. The princess requested
him to keep a place for her in Ely chapel, to hear Dr. Ken
expound the church catechism.
"Peincess Anne ov Denmaek to the Bishop of Eit.'
"I hear the bishop of Bath and Wells expounds this afteraoon at your
chapel, and I have a great mind to hear him ; therefore I desire you would do
me the favour to let some place be kept for me, where I may hear well, and be
the least taken notice of, for I shall bring but one lady with me, and desire I
may not be known. I should not have given you the trouble, but that I was
afraid if I had sent any body, they might have made a mistake. Pray let me
bow what time it begins."
The princess Anne received from her father, at his acces-
sion, an augmentation of revenue which was fit for the heir-
apparent of an empire. James II. made up her allowance to
32,000/., being more than the income at present settled by
parliament on his royal highness prince Albert. When
testedby the great difference of financial aiTangement from
the present day, the exceeding is enormous of such a sum in
solid money. The whole yearly expenditure of the realm

was, in the reign of Charles II., averaged at one million and
a half per annum this sum, with the exception of the

j'^
!
crown-land income, constituted the whole outlay of king and
I
state. From this revenue, 32,000/. bestowed on the princess
I
Anne seems a liberal share. James II., by his financial skill,
and his vigilance in defending the taxes from the rapacity of
i
those who farmed them, raised the revenue of Great Britain
I
to 2,250,000/., with which small sum he covered all expenses,
I
and maintained a navy victorious over the seas of the world.
j
The value of the allowance he gave to his daughter Anne,
[before the funded debt existed, must have been more than
' Quoted, by the biographer of bishop Ken, from the Gentleman's Magazine
for March 1814, having been communicated to that periodical by a gentleman
of the name of Fowke, who is in possession of the original. Dr. Francis Turner
was subsequently one of the bishops who were imprisoned by her father, and yet
I
refused to own allegiance either to Mary II. or Anne.
I
'^
Toone*9 Clironoiogy.
VOL. VII. I
—
114 MARY II.
double that sum in the present day.' " It cannot be denied"

wrote a contemporary,'* who had belonged to the court of
:i !•
James II., "that the king was a very kind parent tc the
princessAnne he inquired into her debts at Christmas 1685
:
and took care to clear her of every one. Yet she made some
exceedings the year after, and lord Godolphin complained
and grumbled still her father paid all she owed, without
;
a
word of reproach."
The princess Anne, from the hour that another husband
was provided for her, wisely thought no more of the ac.
complished earl of Mulgrave, who subsequently married
her illegitimate sister, Catharine.^ The prince of Denmark
was considered an example of the domestic affections^ and
proved a kind, quiet husband. His easy and sensual life
in England very soon stifled his warlike energies under an

excess of corpulence. He could imbibe much wine with-
out visible signs of inebriation, yet a small portion of nis
potations would have reversed the reason of a temperate

man. Charles II. reproved the prince, in his jocose man-
ner, for tendency to sluggish indulgence. Unfortu-

his
nately, the partiality of her Danish consort for the plea-
sures of the table encouraged the same propensities in liis
princess. He induced her, if not to drink, at least to

persist in eating more than did good to her health; in-
stead of suppressing, he caused her to exaggerate her early
propensities to gluttony.
Although the princess Anne and the prince of Dcnmarl
were nearly every twelvemonth the parents of children, yet
their little ones either expired as soon as they saw the lighl,
or lingered only five or six months. Their deaths were pro-
bably occasioned by hydrocephalus, which, when constitu-

tional, sweeps oflf whole families of promising infants. The
' James II.'s allowance to his daughter Anne, (Lansdowne MS.)
Prince and princess of Denmark, out of y° Excise £15,000
Postage 15,000
Ditto more by privy-seal, during pleasure . . 2,000
£32,000
« Roger Coke's Detection, vol. iii. p. 187.
Mi
* Daughter of James II. by Catharine Sedley.
;
MARY II. 115
thirddaughter of the princess Anne and prince George of

Denmark was born in May 1686, at Windsor-castle. Lady
Churchill and lady Roscommon were godmothers to this
infant, and gave it the name of Anne Sophia. The babe

Tvas healthy although the little lady Mary was weakly and
:
languishing, yet the youngest gave every hope of reaching

maturity. These hopes were cruelly blighted six months
afterwards. Prince George was taken very ill at that time,
and remained many days in actual danger of death. The
princess nursed him most assiduously. Scarcely was she
relieved from the hourly dread of seeing her husband ex-
pire, when first the little lady Sophia suddenly fell ill, and
died on her mother's birthday,^ and the second anniversary
of the decease of Charles II. The eldest infant had for

months been in a consumption; she expired within a few
hours. Thus the princess was left childless in one day.
Rachel lady Russell draws a pathetic picture of Anne's feel-
ings, divided as they were between grief for the bereavement
of her oflPspring and anxiety for her husband. Her letters

are dated Fel^ruary 9th and 18th, 1686-7 "The good prin- :
cess has taken her chastisement heavily the first relief of :
that sorrow proceeded from calming of a greater, the prince
being so ill of a fever. I never heard any relation more

mo\ing than that of seeing them together. Sometimes they
wept, sometimes they mourned in words, but hand-in-hand
he sick in his bed, she the carefullest nurse to him that can
be imagined. As soon as he was able, they went to Rich-

mond-palace, which was Thursday last. The poor princess is
still wonderful sad. The children were opened the eldest :
was all consumed away, as expected, but the youngest quite
healthy, and every appenr'ince for long life."'^ The infants

were buried in St. George's- hapel, Windsor. At the inter-
ment of the little lady Sophia, the burial-place of her grand-
father, Charles I., was discovered in the chapel. Although
the date does not agree with the demise of these infants, yet
this letter of Mary princess of Orange to her brother-in-law,
' Dangeau's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 255.
I 2
116 MARY II.
prince George of Denmark, could not have pertained to any

other occasion:
"MaBY PeINOESS op OBA.NGB TO PbINCE GeOEOE OF DENMARK.'
"MONSIEUB MY BrOTHEB,
" I have learned with extreme concern (deplessir) the misfortune of my sistor
by your letter, and I assure you that it touches me as nearly us if it had hap.
pened to myself; but since it is the will of God, it must be submitted to «ith
patience. We have great cause to praise this good God that my sister is in
Buch a good state, and I hope will re-establish her liealth entirely, and bless you
together with many other infants, who may live to console their parents for
those who are dead. I wish for some better occasion to testify to you bow
much I am, monsieur my brother,
H
^y^^ ^^.
"From Loo, this 13th Novr.

" A Monsieur mon Frfere, le Prince George de Danmark."
At the succeeding Christmas, notwithstanding the libe-
rality of her allowance, the princess Anne was found to be
overwhelmed with debt.'* As there was no outlay commen-
surate with a second extravagant defalcation, Lawrence
Hyde, lord Rochester, the uncle of the princess, began to
suspect that some greedy favourites secretly drained her

funds. He did not keep his suspicions to himself, and tlie
person who testified consciousness by furious resentment,

was Sarah Churchill. The favourite, in consequence, visited
him through with active hatred. Few pages

life of ber
copious historical apologies occur without violent railings
• Fromthe original, in French, in the possession of William Upcott, esq.

The hand of the princess Mary, is published by Mr.
fac-simile, entirely in the
Netherclift. It is in rather a fair Italian hand: her signature is very like that
of Mary queen of Scots. There is no yearly date ; it is probable tliat thL<
condolence was written on the death of the name-child of the prineess of
Orange.
« The Other Side of the Question, 47. This author is fully corroborated by
ths duchsss herself, and bv Rocrpr Coke.

MARY II. 117
against thislord treasurer, his wife, or some of the Clarendon
family. Lady Clarendon," says Sarah Churchill, in one

"
of her inedited papers,' "aunt by marriage to the p. :ess
Anne, was first lady of her bedchamber when the princess

was first est.ablished at the Cockpit. When lord Clarendon
was made lord-lieutenant of Ireland, which obliged my lady
Clarendon to leave her service, the princess was very glad,
because,though she was considered a good woman, the prin-
cess had taken an aversion to her. It was soon guessed that
I must succeed her in her post ; and at this time the prin-
cess wrote to me she intended to take two new pages
* that
of the backstairs, she having then but two, one of whom was
extreme old and past service ; but that she would not do it
till my lady Clarendon was gone, that I might have the
advantage of putting in the two pages,* meaning that I
should sell these two places, for in those times it was openly
allowed to sell all employments in every office. And upon
this established custom and direction from the princess, (as
it was not to be expected that I should immediately set up
to reform the court in this respect,) I did sell these places :
with some other advantage, they came to 1200/.," a tole- —

rably round sum of money before the national debt was in-
stituted. The new pages were Roman-catholics, and were pro-
bably privately assisted into their situations of keeping the

backstairs of the dwelling rooms of the princess by some
official in the court of king James of that religion, whose
interest was concerned in the proceedings of Anne, to know
all who came to her, and what they said and did.
persons
That king James had placed them himself is impossible, for
he had no suspicion of Anne ; and had he taken any under-
hand measures to watch her conduct, his ruin could not have
fallen on him unawares as it did, accelerated by his children.
Bat as soon as Sarah Churchill had comfortably pocketed

her 1200/., the prince and princess of Orange by some means
discovered the fact that the two new pages of their sister
Anne^s backstairs were Roman-catholics. Their vigilance on
' Coxe MSS. vol. xliv.; letter of the duchess of Marlborough to Mr. Hutchin-
son, inedited. Brit. Mus.
118 MARY II.
a point important to the good success of the coming revolu.

tion, roused the princess Anne from the supine satisfaction
in wliich she reposed. Altliougli lier needy favourite had

made so excellent a market, she was forced to commund the
instant dismissal of her Roman-catholic attendants at the
door-stairs of her sitting rooms. The warning of the prin
cess ofOrange not only displaced these dangerous watchers

on the conduct of the princess Anne, but had the consccu.
Sarah Churchill to refund eight hun-
tive result of obliging
dred of the twelve hundred pounds she mentions havin"
recently netted on the occasion. However, four hundred
pounds clung to her fingers, which was a goodly gain for an
ineffectual recommendation. It is nevertheless to be feared,
that the personal hatred which avowedly had previously sub-
sisted between the princess of Orange und Sarah Churchill,
was not soothed by the painful but inevitable process of
refunding the eight hundred pounds. It is worth remarking,
that the lady herself quotes the anecdote '
in support of her
own warm self-praises, as an instance of her scorn of making

money by selling offices in her mistress's household. One
of these Roman-catholic pages, of the name of Gwynn, had
been a servant of the priuv't as Anne of some standing ; she
secured to him a salary for life, in compensation for the loss
of his place on account of his religion. In pecuniary trans-
actions, Anne was always generous to the utmost of her
ability. She discharged her old servitor for political reasons,

but left him not to starve.
Whether by gambling or by gifts to the Churchills, the
princess Anne again impaired her revenue and overwhelmed

herself with debts. Since the favourite of Anne previously
appeared on these pages, she had become lady Churchill.
By the influence of the king when duke of York, her
husband had been created lord Churchill, December 1683,

all this is owii
and given more substantial marks of favour, which, though
trifling in comparison with the enormous wealth this pair
afterwards drew from their country, deserved their gratitude,
' Coxe MSS. vol. xliv.; letter of the duchess of Marlborough to Mr. Hutcliin-
son, inedited. Brit. Mus.

' "
MARY II. 119
The accounts of the princess passed through the hands of

one of Surah's familiars, whom she had introduced into the
establishment at the
Cockpit. Assuredly, if rogues write
accounts of their " conduct,'^ they ought to be " gifted
with long memories. A Mr. Maule having proved ungrateful
to Sarah Churchill some months after the Revolution, she
recriminated in the following words: "I had not only

brought him to be bedchamber-man to the prince, when he
:
wiis quite a stranger to the court, but, to mend his salary,
had invented an employment for him, —that of overlooking
the princess's accounts." ' The result of this bright inven-
tion was, a figuring on the side of the debit column of the
princess's accounts of 7000/. higher than the credits. Anne
was very unhappy in consequence, and sent to her father to
lend her the deficient sum.
King James walked into the presence of his daughter,
on receiving this intelligence,so unexpectedly, that Sarah
Churchill, and another lady of the princess's bedchamber,
(lady Fitzharding,) had only just time to shut themselves
in a closet. Anne permitted these women to remain there

as spies and eavesdroppers, listening to the eonfidential
communication bet\*een her father and herself. The king
gently reminded her "that he had made her a noble
allowance, and that he had t^vice cheerfully paid her debts '^
without one word of remonstrance; but that now he was

convinced that she had some one about her for whose sake
she plunged herself into inconveniences. Of these, his
paternal affectionwas willing once more to relieve her, but,"
he added, " that she must observe a more exact economy for
the future." The princess Anne only ansAvered her father

Mith tears. The moment king James departed, out burst
the two eavesdroppers from their hiding-place, lady Churchill
exclaiming, with her usual coarse vehemence, " Oh, madam!
all this is owing to that old rascal, your uncle !"^ It is not
'
Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough. This invented employment was
parallel, hi chronology, with these mysterious defalcations from the income of
her mistress.
• Letter of the princess Anne, regarding the fact of the payment of her debts.
» Other Side of the Question, p. 48.
120 MARY II.
wise for ladies, M'hethcr princesses or otherwise, to suffor
their women to call their uncles or fathers "old rascals"

and in their hcarin};. This abused luulp,
to their faces,
Lawrence Hyde, was a lord treasurer, of whose honcMty the
flourishiuf^ revenue of a lif^htly taxed country bore honour.
able witness. Being devoted to the reformed catholic church
of England, he would not retain his office when he found
that his royal brother-in-law was bent on removing the
penal laws, and introducing Roman-catholics into places of
trust. The hatred of his niece and her favourite was uot
appeased by his resignation of the treasury do])artniciit.
This office, which was the object of lord Sunderland's desires,
and of his long series of political agitations, and of his pre-
tended conversion to the Roman religion, seemed now within
his grasp. But James II. was too good a financier to trust
his revenue in the clutches of a known inveterate gambler:
he put the treasury into commission, associating lord Sun-
derland with two other nobles. The furious animosity with
which the favourite of the princess of Denmark pursued
Sunderland, her mistress following her lead, proves that
neither of them had the slightest idea that he was working
a mine for the ruin of his master parallel to their own.
Meantime, the princess was forced to restrain her expen-
diture.
However ignorant the princess Anne and her favourite
were that Sunderland was an ally in the same cause with
themselves, the princess of Orange was well aware of it; for
while he was affecting to be a convert to the church of Rome,
and was the prime-minister of James II., he was carrying on,
by means of his wife, an intriguing correspondence with AVil-
liam of Orange. A very extraordinary letter, in one hand-
writing, but in two very different styles of diction, the joint
composition of this pair, was found in king William's box of
letters, after his death, at Kensington. The first part of it,
the composition of the male diplomatist, wholly relates to
the best manner of circumventing James II.'s endeavours

for the parliamentary abolition of the penal and test acts,
warning the prince of Orange not to express approbation of

—
MAliV II. 121
the measnrf- Tlie postscript, or second letter, is an cma-

imtioii from the mind of huly Sunderliind, and is meant for
the princess of C)ranj;e, thon^h ])ersonally addressed to her
siHUise. It appears written nnder some dread lest the donl)le
{(aiiic they were phiyin«( shonhl ])C detected by James II.,
who had, ii ^vill be observed, already suspected tliat lady 8iin-

(Icrliind corresponded with his daughter Mary:
"Lady Scndeulanu to the 1'uince and PiiiNCEsa op Ohanoe.'
" I must Ik'h Ifiive of your lii^^hni'SH to ciidoHi! u k'ttor tor Mr. SidiK-y, who
1 liojit' will 111' with yon viTy hood hu coineH, I la'st't'ch you to umki.' no
; luiil till
answer to my letti-r, for Inir ot" iiccidi'ut. For tliis Imd p)ne to you two pouts
ii){o, but thiit lUi uccidciit hii]))ieiu'd 1 thought it bi'st not to \mnn over, homo
jMpists, tilt' other day, that arc not satisfied with my lord, [Sumk-rland, naid, |
'Tliiit uiy lord Sunderland did not fiance in a net ;' for 'tliey very well knew
tliiit, liDWOver he nuido kinj^ .lames believe, there were dispennalioim from
HuUand a» v>x\\ as from Itonie, and that they were sure / held ii eorrespondeneo
with the prineess of Oranjê.' This happened the day I first heard of the pro-
positions whieh I liave writ, /. f. about the test act,
[ whieh made me defer |
8i'ii(liii>,' till kin(^ .lames [II. J si)oke to me of it, which he has done. And us I
could very truly, so did I assure his majesty that 1 never had the honour to
'
have any conuneree with the ))rincess but alx)ut treacle-water, or trurA; or some
Buch slight thinj?.' I <lid likewise assin-e his majesty, '
that if there laid l)een
any connueree, 1 ashamed, but, on the contrary, proud to own
should never l)e
it, seeing he must he sure that the princess could never be capable of any thing,
irilh any body, to his disservice,'
"Now, liow fancy came into his head I cannot imajjine, for, as your
this
liighness never had the honour to write to you at all till now ; so the
knows, I
princess of Orange knows I have been so unhai)i)y as to have very little

aeqiiiiintHUce with her, till of late I have had the obligation to my lady Sem])lo
«nd Jlr. Sidney to have had an occasion of writing to her, which I value, and
will endeavour to continue and improve by all the zeul and esteem for her that
I am capable of, to my last breath. I have the ill luck to write a very bad
hand, which, if your highness cannot rend plain, (and few can,) I humbly beg of
you to kcej) it till Mr. Sidney comes, who is used to my hand.
" If, ut this man's return, [suppose her messenger,] I can but hear that my
letter came safe, and that you pardon the liberty 1 have taken, I shall be very
much at ease. If, by the bearer, your highness will be pleased to let me know
my letter came safe to you, I shall be very happy.
"A. SUXDEHLAND."
It is to be feared, thtat the commencement of the princess
of Orange's correspondence witli the illustrious Rachel lady
Russell had not for its object the generous sympathy with her
bereavements whieh that lady deserved from every one, or it
would have been offered years before. The following is an

extract from its first opening ; it is, indeed, offensively con-
descending. It seems in answer to some admiration for the

* Dalryniple's Appendix, pp. 189, 190.
..MHlii
—— —
122 MARY II.
princess expressed by lady Russell to Dyckvelt, the Dutch

envoy,' — at least such is the opinion of Dr. Birch, in his
abstracts from the mass of the correspondence of the roval
family at thi% period, to which he had access. The princess

of Orange observes that she sends her letter by Mr. Herbert,
" THE Princess op Oeange to Rachel Lady Russell.
" Hoiinskrdyke, July 12, 1687.
" I have all the esteem for you which so good a character deserves, as I have
heard given of you by all people, both before I left England and since I liave
been here ; and have had as much pity as any could have of the sad misfortunes
you have had, with much more compassion when they happen to persons who
deserve so well."
James II. had previously felt uneasy at the proceedings

of Dyckvelt in England, which he expressed, in a letter to
his daughter Mary, thus :
!!.' m " Windsor, May 30, 1687.

" I have reason to fear thatmynheer Dyckvelt has taken wrong measures
of things here, by reason that many, who are not well affected to my iêrsou or
government, have plied him very hard since he has been here."*
The king then recapitulates what he has done for the good of
the monarchy and nation in general. Probably there were
some religious topics discussed by James, for there followed,
soon after, an extract from Mary's reply:
" Hounslardyke, June 17, 1687.
" Wlien you will have me speak as I think, I cannot always be of the same
mind your majesty is ; what you do, seems too much to the prejudice of the
church I am of for me to like it."'
Letters which did honour to the humanity of both father and
daughter followed these. Mary had requested her father to

interfere with his mighty power, as ocean-king, to obtain the
liberty of the crews of some Dutch fishing-boats taken by the
Algerines. In this she was certainly successful, or Dr. Birch
would have eagerly noted the contrary. Besides, the sup-
pression of pirates was a noted feature of her father's govern-
ment.*
When James II.'s intention of abolishing the penal laws
became apparent soon after the embassy of Penn, the prin-
cess of Orange wrote the following letter to Sancroft, arch-
bishop of Canterbury:
> Birch MS. 4163, folio 44. = Ibid.
^ Ibid.
*See Dairympie's Appendix,' regarding the dreadful losses the JiJngiish suiiered
from piracy, from the years 1689 till the strange affair of captain Kidd.
"Si
—
MARY ir. 123
"THE Peincess of Ohange TO Abchbishop Sanchoft.'

" Loo, October 1, 1687.
" Though have not the advantage to know you, my lord of Canterbury,
I
vet the reputation

you have makes me resolve not to lose ftiis opportunity of
making myself more known to you than I have been yet. Dr. Stanley can
assure you that I take more
interest in what concerns the church of England
tlian myself, and that

one of the greatest satisfactions I can have is, to hear how
all the clergy show
themselves as firm to their religion as they have always been
to tiieir king, which
makes me hope God will preserve his church, since he has
80 well provided it with able men. I have nothing more to say, but beg your
prayers, and desire you will do me the justice to believe I shall be very glad of
any occasion to show the esteem and veneration I have for you.
" To the Archbishop of Canterbury."
" Makie.
At the first receipt of this letter, the heart of tlie old man
warmed towards the writer. Sancroft was suffering under
the double affliction of seeing his king, the son of his beloved
master, an alien from the church of England, and even find-
ing indications of persecution from him. Among his papers
was found a rough draft of an answer to Mary's letter, in
which, rather in sorrow than in anger, he thus offers an
apology for his royal master's secession from the reformed
church :
" It hath seemed," wrote the archbishop, " good to the Infinite Wisdom, to
exercise this poor church with trials of all sorts. But the greatest calamity that
ever hefell us was, that wicked and ungodly men who murdered the tiither,
[Charles I.] likewise drove out the sons, as if it were to say to them, ' Go, and
serve other gods,' the dismal effects hereof we feel every moment
Aiid although this (were it much more) cannot in the least shake or alter our
steady loyalty and the royal family, yet it embitters the com-
to our sovereign
forts left us it blasts our present joys, and makes us sit down with sorrow in
:
dust and ashes. Blessed be God, who hath caused some diiwn of light to break
from the eastern shore, in the constancy of your royal highness and the excel-
lent prince towards us."*
The letter coutinues with tender and paternal expressions to

the princess of Orange, as one who, like Mary in the gospel,
"had chosen the better part." He speaks of himself " as an
old man sinking under the double burden of age and sor-
row;" and he signed himself in the beautiful phraseology of
an earlier period, "her daily orator at the throne of grace."
The extraordinary historical circumstances relating to the
princess of Orange and Sancroft archbishop of Canterbury,
render every incident which connects their names interesting.
It is needful to remark, that Bancroft's mind misgave him,
i ^jaUmiHrna »-
'
Clarendon Letters, Appendix, part ii. p. 488. ' Ibid., pp. 48S, 486.
124 MARY II.
and he never sent the he had written; but avoiding

letter
confidential discussions, he merely acknowledged the honour
the princess had done him with expressions of courtesy.
The princess of Orange received from her father a letter,
dated November 29th, 1687, in which he mentions his queen's
situation, with some particulars of her health, adding, as
news, "the death of Mrs. Nelly [GAvynne], and that she had
not left the duke of St. Albans so much as was believed." A
great increase of zeal for the welfare of the church of Eng.
land was the only symptom shown by the princess of Orange
at the receipt of the intelligence regaixling her father's hopes
of offspringi —an event likely to be subversive of lier hus-
band's ambitious anticipations, in which there cannot exist
doubts that she fully participated, notwithstanding all her
disclaiming speeches and letters on the subject of her suc-
cession. One of these speeches, pertaining, perhaps, to an

earlierand better period of her life, is to be found in Bni-
net's manuscript. A person having presumed to ask the
princess of Orange, " If she knew her own mind so far, as to
apprehend how she could bear the king her father having a
son?" The princess answered, " She did not care to talk of
these things, lest it might seem an affectation, but she believed
she should be very little troubled at it, for in all these things
the will of God was to be considered ; and if it were not for
doing good to others," she said, " for her own particular, it
would be better for her to live and die where she was.'"
Then commenced some religious controversy between the
father and daughter, which, however, was carried on in a
moderate manner. The king sent his daughter controversial

books by his resident minister, D'Albeville, from Whitehall,
P'ebruary 24th, 1687-8. He wrote to her thus " I pray God :
to touch your heart, as he did your mother's, who, for niauv

years, was as zealous a Protestant, and as knowing in it, as
you can be." If the king thought that his daughter's firm-
ness in her religious opinions could be shaken by an appeal
to the memory of her dead mother, he was greatly mistaken,
Mary was at a tender age when she lost her mother ; there is
> Burnet's MSS. 6584, Hai-leian.
I
—
MARY II. 125
no evidence, but quite the contrary, that she cherished either

love or respect for her. King James continued his contro-
versial discussions, when writing to his daughter, in his letter
of February 28,
1687-8 that "One of her instructors in reU-
:
eion [Compton, bishop of London] hokls several tenets which
do not agree with the true doctrine of the churcli of England.

This I was not tokl, but heard him declare it in the pulpit
many years since, in the chapel here at AVhitehall, and I took
notice of it then to a bishop that stood by me. And I know

that several others of the clergy do so also, and lean much
more to the presbyterian tenets than they ought to do, and
they generally run more and more every day into those
opinions than ever they did, and quit their true principles." •
This was extraordinary language for the convert of Home to

urge to his daughter, and shoAVS a lingering love for the
church of England, the tenets of which he thus allowed were
those of a true chui'ch. The biographer of Dr. Tillotson''
insists, among the other great merits of that prelate, on his

having driven James II., when duke of York, from Whitehall
chapel by his controversial sermons, in 1(J72. Would it not
have been a far higher triumph to have kept him there, per-
suading him to remain a true disciple of the church which
Tillotson at that time professed ?
At the commencement of the year 1688, Dr. Stanley, the

almoner of the princess of Orange, wi'ote, by her desire, this
letter to archbishop San croft :
'•Db. Stanley to the Aechbishop op Canterbury.'

" The Hague, .Tan. 24, 1687-8.
" I suppose your grace may have
heard that the khig hath not been wanting
to press his daughter hei'e to be favourable to popery, but lest you should have
heard more than is true, I presume to acquaint your lordship with what hath
passed, her royal highness being pleased to make me privy io it, and giving me
an express leave to conninmicate it to your grace. Whatever reports have been
raised, king James hath scarcely ever either spoken or written to our excellent
princess to persuade her to popery, till last Christmas, [1687,] when the
marquess d'Albeville came hither; when the king, her father, sent by him a
very long letter written with his own hand, two sheets of paper, containing the
motives of his conversion to popery."
' Additional MSS. 4163, fol. 1. Birch MS.

' Dr= Birch, p. cxiv. vol. i. of Works of Tillotson.
» Clarendon Diary and Letters, vol. iv. pp. 486, 487.
126 MARY II.
The mentioned here by Dr. Stanley is still in exist-

letter
ence;' written in James II.^s best historical style. He
it is
gives his daughter the history of his early youth, his strong
affection to the church of England, as inculcated by his be-
loved tutor, Dr. Steward ; he mentions the great pain his
mother (queen Henrietta) gave him by her persecution of
his young brother, Gloucester, and the disgrace he was in
with her for encouraging Gloucester to remain true to the
church of England in its adversity. King James informed
his daughter "that he was himself in his youth as zealous
as she could be for the church of England, yet no one en-
deavoured in France to convert him^ but a nun, who de-
clared, when she found her labour in vain, that she would
pray for him without ceasing." The rest of this document
narrates his reasons for his change to the church of Rome,
which may be spared here ; even Dr. Stanley's abstract of
them we pass by, as containing nothing personal of the
daughter Mary herself: it has, also, long been familiar to his-

torical readers. One little remark may be permitted that we
gather from James's narrative, that he changed his religion
rather out of contradiction, than from conviction of the su-
periority of the Roman church over the reformed cathoHc

church; more from disgust of the polemic railing he heard
in the pulpit, than from any other motive. Dr. Stanley,
who was at that time almoner at the Hague, thus con-
tinues :
" Our excellent princess seeing this letter, written with the king's ovni hand,
was resolved to write an answer herself, as the king desired, without consulting
any of us, [her chaplains,] that he might see she was very ready to give an
account of herself. The very next day, heing post-day, she made haste and
wrote a letter to king James, of two sheets of paper, (whidi she afterwards read
to me,) which trn\y 1 can without flattery say, was the hei^t letter I ever saw,
treating James .jvith that respect which became her father and king, and yet
speaking her mind freely and openly as became the cause of religion, and tliat
> William III. preserved it, with a great many of his uncle's letters of friend-
ship to him, in his chest at Kensington. See Dalrymple's Appendix, for the
whole letter.
* The reason that queen Henrietta did not endeavour to disturb the religion
of her second son, was because of his proximity to the throne of Great Britain.
Her attack on young Gloucester's principles was wholly in a worldly point of
view, that he, being a third son, might be provided for in the Boman churcli.
MARY II. 127
(he hoped that God would give her grace to live and die in that of the church of
England."
The praises Dr. Stg,nley bestowed on the genius for con-

troversy displayed by his princess, inspired her with the am-
bition of having her letter seen and admired by archbishop
Saiicroft; and therefore he kindly offered to send him a copy,
expressing, withal, hishopes that the archbishop would write
his commendations of the princess, and secretly send them to
Dr. Tillotson, who would forward them to her royal high-

ness; "and your grace," he adds, "doth take some notice
if
to her of affair as I have related it, I

her carriage in this
believe it will be very acceptable to her."' No doubt it
would ; but archbishop Sancroft was not the man who deem-
ed that a private letter from a daughter to a father should
be blazoned abroad, for however she might have the best of
the argument, a public and ostentatious exposure of the

errors of a parent is not the most respectable road to the
praise of others. Piety, unalloyed by the leaven of the
Pharisee, would have laboured Avith filial love to induce a
change in her unfortunate sire, without parade or canvassing
for admiration. Such were the feelings of archbishop San-
croft on this subject. Not one word in reply did he send
to the Hague, yet, with stern integrity, he relaxed not his
steady opposition to the course his sovereign was pursuing.
The day
first of the year 1687-8 brought intelligence
which roused the princess Anne and her miniature court
from exclusive attention to their own petty politics and in-
trigues, to the apprehension that the reversionary prospect
of her wearing, one day, the crown of Great Britain, might
be altogether obscured by the birth of an heir-apparent.

Thanks were that day offered up in all churches in England
that the queen of James II. was enceinte. Every intrigue
that had existed between the malcontents of England and
Holland forthwith grew livelier; from that moment the

secret correspondence from England, maintained by all sorts
and conditions of persons with Mary and her husband, daily
' Clarendon Letters and Diary ; Appendix, part iv. p. 488.

—
128 MARY II.
increased. There were few persons at the court of James

but were playing the parts of spies, with various degi'ees of
treachery. Many of these correspondents were exceedingly
bitter against each other ; and if Mary of Orange had
been
a philosophic observer of character, she had curious oppor.
tunities for exercising her reflective powers, as the letters she
hourly received unveiled the clashing interests and opinions
of her correspondents. At the head of this band of her
father's enemies figures her sister, his deeply loved and in-
dulged darling, the princess Anne. A bitter and malicious

pen did Anne hold in her youth;' perhaps the spirit of Sarali
Churchill, her favourite and ruler, inspired her with a portion
of its venom : her chief hatred was towards the queen, her
step-mother, and lady Sunderland. In this series of letters
the two sisters had nicknames for their father and his queen,
who, were " Mansel and Hansel's

in their correspondence,
wife •" the prime-minister, Sunderland, and his countesh,
were " Rogers and Rogers' wife.*' Sunderland and his wife
had been foremost among the secret agents aiding the ma-
chinations of William and Mary. This fact was not knoM
to Anne, who indulged her spirit of envious detraction when-
ever she mentioned lady Sunderland, and the traits she deli-
neated in various of her epistles of this person, for the infor-
mation of her sister Mary, form a portrait graphically drawn,
and certainly a likeness ; yet the spirit in which the letters
are written, creates mor;-: abhorrence for the writer than
for the subject.
" THE Pkincess of Denmaek TO Mary Pmincess or Oeanoe.
"Cockpit, March 20, IfiSS.
" I can't end my letter witliout telling you that lady Sunderland plays tlio
hypocrite more than ever, for she goes to St. Martin's church morning and
afternoon, because there are not people enough to sec her at Whitehall cliapel,
and is half an hour before other people, and half an hour after every body is
• The answers of the princess of Orange are not to be found, they can only
be guessed by the tenor of her sister's epistles; from them it may be pre-
8ume<l that they were written with caution, and couched in more respectable
language than the emanations from the niin<l of the princi.^ss Anne, guided by
Sarah Churchill. It is probable that V/illiam of Orange preserved the letters
of the princess Anne to his wife, as proofs that the slanders regarding the birth
of the unfortmiate heir of his miclo did not originate in Holland.
VOT- VTT
—
MARY II. 129
ffone, at her private devotions.* She runs from church to church, and keeps
up such a clatter
with her devotions, that it really turns one's stomach. Sure
there never was a
couple so well matched as she and her good husband, for
as she is
throughout the greatest ja<le that ever was, so he is the subtlest
workiugests'^ villain that is on the face of the earth.
" I hope you will instruct Berkley what you would have your friends do if
any okwasion [occasion] should exist, as it is to be feared there will, especially

if Mansel [her
father] has a son, which I conclude he will, there being so much
reason to believe for methinks, if it were not, there having been
so many stories and ftiss made about it' On the contrary, when
any one talks of her situation, she looks as if she were afraid we should touch
lier; and whenever I have happened to be in the room, and she has been un-
dressing, she has alwf.ys gone in the bedroom These things give
m; so much suspicion, that I believe, when she is brought to bed, no one will
be con'nnad 'tis her child, unless it prove a daughter."
Can any thing he more utterly absurd than this expression ?

particularly, asthe poor queen had previously brought into
the world a son, there could be no possible reason why she
should not bear another now. The princess Anne seems to

have forgotten that the babe must have been either daughter
or son. Probably the " Berkley " whom she mentions in the
commencement was her first lady, one of the Villiers sisters,
who had undertaken a voyage to Holland " on okwasions" —
to use the droll orthography of her royal highness that she —
considered were safer uttered bv word of mouth than com-
mitted to paper.
The princess Anne of Denmark meditated a voyage to

Holland. She thus testifies her displeasure at her father's
prohibition of her tour to the Hague :
" I am denied the satisfaction of seeing you, my dearest sister, this spring,
though the king gave me leave when I first asked it. I impute this to lord
Sunderland, for the king trusts him with every thing, and he, going on so
fiercely in the interests of the papists, is afraid you should be told a true cha-
racter of him. You may remember I have once before ventured to tell you
' Birch MS. There must have been some difference in the time of closing
of places of worship before the Eevolution, or lady Sunderland could not have
remained so long.
^ So written. She means, 'the most subtle-working villain.'
' Part of this letter is omitted, on account of the coarseness and vulgarity of
Anne's language. The reader, who has previously perused the Life of Mary
Beatrice, will remember that this was only the revivsd of the injiu-ious reports
circulated against the reality of the pregnancy of that princess previously to her
last accouchement ; but as that infant proved a daughter, no more was heard of
the alleged fraud.
VOT. VTT «
M
130 MARY II.
that I thought lord Sunderland a very ill man, and I am more confirmod everv
day in that opinion. Every body knows how often this man turned haekwiirds
and forwards in the late king's time ; and now, to complete all his virtues, In.
is working with all his might to bring in poiwry. Ho is perpetually with tlii
priests, and stirs up the king to do tilings faster than I believe he would
of
himself.
" This worthy lord does not go publicly to mass, but hears it privately in
a
priest's chamber. His lady [Sunderland] is as extraordinary in her kind, for
Bho is a flattering, dissembling, false woman; but she has so fawning anl
endearing a way, tliat she will deceive any body at first, and it is not possible to
find out all her ways in a little time. She cares not at what rate she lives, i)at
never pays any body. She will cheat, though it be for a little. Tlicn she has
had her gallants, though, may bo, not so many as some ladies hero ami with
;
all
these gooii qualities she is a constant church-woman, so that, to outward njijienr.

ance, one would take her for a saint ; and to hear her talk, you would think slu'
were a very good Protestant, but she is ns much one as the other, for it h
certain that her lord does nothing without her.
" One thing I forgot to tell you about this noble lord, which is, that it is
thought if every thing docs not go here as he would have it, that he will \)\A
a quan-el with the court and so retire, and by that means it is possible be may
make his court to you."
By this sentence, Anne plainly shows she was ignorant that
Sunderland's court was already made to the powers at tlii
Hague.
Such was the spirit in which these princesses corresponded.
Much have we been forced to suppress, as unfit for family
reading, with the remark, that good women would have lost
all the regality the world could offer, rather than have held
such a correspondence, or become the fosterers of sucli an
intrigue as that by which they proclaimed their unfortunate

brother a spurious heir. This plot evidently originated in
the brain of the princess Anne and her colleagues. It was
firstbroached in the letter of March, before quoted, three

months before the hapless infant it disinherited saw the light,
In another letter, too thoroughly coarse and odious to quote,
addressed to her sister Mary, and dated from the Cockpit,
March 1688, Anne again affirms, " that if the expected royal
offspring should not prove a daughter, she will not believe it
to be the queen's child."

Nearly at the same time, D'Avaux, the French ambas-
sador to the states of Hollar d, wrote to his court, "that if
the queen of James II. was put to bed of a son, the prince
of Orange was resolved to attempt to seize the British crown;

— ;
MARY II. 131
for he was sure that the Calvinists in England would not

permit any prince of Wales to supersede the rights of his
wife." The people of Great Britain were perfectly right
solemnly to refuse to acknowledge a successor who was not
to be educated in the ^^Lablished religion: their determina-
tion, simply and firmly expressed, without false witness or
calumny, would have been sufficient. The people in reality
acted thus, and acted well the falsehood and calumny did
:
not originate with them, but with the two daughters and the
nephew of James II. And, in the face of the odious docu-

ments they have left, how can we call their evil good ? It
would indeed be a vain attempt, because no reader of the
documents left by the princesses could come to the same
opinion.
In one of the letters alluded to, the princess Anne insinu-

ates to her sister, that her life would be in danger from her
father if she visited England. The undeviating indulgence
and personal Idndness of this most unfortunate father to
these daughters has been shown by a succession of facts. m
It was a part of his lot, which, as he has declared in his
memoirs, he felt to be peculiarly bitter, that his children,
who ought to have compared his conduct to them from their
youth upwards, could accuse him of either intending to
destroy them, or of meaning to supplant them by the impos-
ture of pretended ofi'spring. Here are the words of Anne :
" Tliere is ono thing about yourself that I cannot help giving my opinion in
wliich is, James should desire you and the prince of Orange to
that if king
come over to make him a visit, I think it would be better (if you can make
any liandsome excuse) not to do it ; for though I dare swear the king could
have no tliought against either of you, yet, since people can say one thing and
do another, one cannot help being afraid. If either of you should come, I
should be very glad to see you; but, renlly, if you or the prince should come, I
should le frightened out of my tvits, for fear any harm should happen to
eithr ofi/ou."
After this incendiary missive," the correspondence was

interrupted for a short time by an illness of the princess
' Anne, who was acting the part of the cat in the fable, had reason to dread
that between the parent she was slander-
a personal interview should take place
in^ iiiul Mary. One hour of unrestrained personal conference between
her sister
tlie unfortunate monarch and hia eldest daughter would, in all probability, have
averted his fall. The possibility of Maxy seeing the queen in her present situa-
tion was also dreaded by Anne.
K ?.
I
—
182 MAIIV ir.
Anne. Her father was p;reatly alarmed, and rose oarlv to
visit her on the morning of April the lOth, 1688. Up,.
uncle, lord Clarendon, had been roused at four in tlic morn.

ing with the tidings of her danger he hurried to the Cock-
;
pit to sec her, and found the anxious parent sitting hy ]icr
bedside. Could he have had one glance at the calumnies
which were going to Holland every post from tlmt vcrv
daughter, what would have been his reflections on the con-
trast in the affections of the father with that of the child?
It does not appear that James II. ever resorted to the same
means of reading private letters which we have seen practised
by the prince of Orange. The Stuarts were weak eim\<^\[
to deem that similar proceedings were inconsistent with the
honour of gentlemen.
Doubts have been raised regarding prince George of Den-
mark's religion, but wrongfully, for father Petre uses this
expression concerning him, in a letter to pere la Chaise:—
" He is a prince with whom I cannot discourse of reli^ôn,
Luther was never more earnest than prince George. It is
for this reason that king James, who loves not to be denied,
never has pressed him in that matter." From the same
letter the following curious anecdote is derived. "All the
king's priests and Jesuits one day combined together, to

induce king James to confer with his daughter Anne al)out
religion, saying, ' How would any one be of their faitli, when
the heirs were Protestants ?' The king requested them to
leave his daughters to him, and to mind their own concerns,"
The princess went, on her recovery, to visit her father
at his palace of Richmond, from whence she vented licr
hatred to her unfortunate ftep-raothcr in the folloAvini;
letter :
"THE PfiiNCESS Anne to the Peincess of Okanoe.*

" Ridimond, 9th Miiy, 1688.
" Tho queen, you must know, is of a very proud and hauglity Imniour, and
though she pretends to hate all form and ceremony, one sees that tliosc wlio
make their court tlmt way are very well thought of. She declares, alwiiys, tliat
she lovos sincerity and hates flattery j but when the grossest flattery in the
world is said to her face, she seems exceedingly well pleased with it. It reiiU)
' Dalrymple's Appendix, p. 174.

MARY II. 183
Is cnnufrli to turn one's stomach to lionr what th'infpi nro said to her of that
kind, anil to hoc how mightily she is satisfied with it. All these things lutly
SuiuKtIi""! liiis in perf'eetion, to nuiko her court to her : she is now iniicli
(ificiur witli tlie (|ueen than she usi-d to he. It and a very uneasy
is u sail,
tliiiijr, to l)e forced to live civilly, and as it were freely, with a woniaa that
(wrv one knows hates one, and does all she can to umlo every hody, which she
does.
Jmiy SunilerlinulJ certainly
"One thing must say of the queen, which is, that she is the most hated in
I
tiiLMvorld sorts of 'K'ojile

of nil for every hody believes that she ))ri'sse8 tho
;
kiiif to 1)0 more violent than he woidd he liini.ielf, which is not unlikely, for sho
in very groat bigot in her way.

11
All hulies of (juality say she is so prond, that
tlii'V don't care to o(nnc oftener
than they needs nnist, just out of mere duty ;
iind, indeed, she bus not so great court as she used to have. Sho i)retends to
liiive a groat deal of kindn(!ss for mo j hut I dcmbt it is not real, for I never seo
|iroof'3 of it, but rather the ccmtrury."
The gossip of that day ciiculatcd a story that the queen,

as she sat at her toilet with the princess Anne, liad, on some
dispute between them, tossed her glove in the princess's face.'
This talc, if would never have been omitted by Anne in

true,
her correspondence, were it only to justify the hatred she
nruleiitly expresses against her hapless step-mother, whose
manner to her, she is obliged to own, expresses not only

pol'teuess, " but a great deal of kindness." Noav, tossing a
glove in a person's face is not consistent with either polite-
ness or kindness ; nor does the princess Aime attempt any
excuse for her envenomed hatred, excepting her own sus-
picious that the queen's affection was not real, together with
her envy of the flatteries and distinctions of royalty with
wliich she was surrounded. At the conclusion of this letter,
tilt princess Anne
repeated her expectations that her father
would persecute her by attacks on her religious principles.
This he certainly never did, even when she was a child.
However, she says that she supposes the persetation would
begin when her husband, prince George, went to visit the
court of Denmark that summer. The arrangement between
the princesses of Orange and Denmark was, that prince
George was to escort the latter to the Hague, where she was
to stay on a visit till his retarn from his own country.'^ This
plan was entirely forbidden by James II., and Anne, in the
course of her correspondence, often expressed her anger at

'
Lcdiard's Life of Marlborough, vol. i. p. 69.
* liariiion's Despatches, Murcu ioSS.
—
13i MARY II.
Ilia prohibition. It is difRcult to divine Anne's reasons for
desiring to leaveEngland nt this crisis, unless she iiitoiukd

to make the same political use of her absence whicli she
afterwards did, when she insisted on goinj; to Bath prcvi.
ously to the accouchement of tlic queen, to avoid hciii" a
witness of her brother's birth, that she might enjoy tlio
opportunity of raising an outcry by means of her partisiiiis
as if she had been forced to withdraw. Had the visit bcon
permitted, lady Churchill, who ruled the princess Anne,
would have been her companion, and itwould have l)ccu
utterly impossible for her to have restrained her i)ropensity
at the court of che princess of Orange to disseminate strife

and quarrel with all around her. Indeed, from the furious
divisions which subsequently took place when these persons,
at this era so strongly united against the king and (luccii,
came in contact with each other, it may be guessed what
would have been the result had the king allowed hu

daughter Anne to visit her sister at the Hague.
The princess of Orange, in a letter which is not forth.
coming, had ventured to express to her sister disgust and

distrust of the manners and disposition of her favourite,
which was answered in the following terms :
" Mardi, 1G88.

•'Sorry people have taken such pains to give so ill a chiiriicter of [lady]
Churchill I believe there is nobody in the world has Ixitter notions of nlipon
:
than she has. It is true she is not so strict as some are, nor does she kiop such
a bustle with relipjionj which I confess I think is never the worse, for oiicfws
so many saints mere devils, that if rie be a good Christian, the less sliow unc
<
makes the better in my opinion. Then, as for moral jjrinciples, 'tis iiiiiwssillt
to have better, and without, all that lifting up of the hands and eyes, aiul ot'tou
going to church, will prove but a very lame devotion. One thing more I must
say for her, which is, that she has a true sense of the doctrine of our churcli,
anil abhors all the principles of the church of Koiiie; so, as to this particular,!
assnre you she will never change. The same thing I will venture, now I am on
though he is a very faithful servant to kiiij:
this NubjfX't, to say for her lord; for
James, and the king is very kind to him, and I believe he will always obey tho
king in all things that are consistent with religion, yet rather than change thai,
I dare say he will lose all his places, and every thing that he has. The kinj
once talked to her upon religion, upon occasion of her talking to some latly, or
lookmg another way, when a priest said gi'ace at the king's table."
This defence is indisputably written in lady Churchill's own

bold style of composition. The princess of Orange found
!il!BI«f"*=f'!;?:
xxuLu lb biiai/ oxxc uiiu uumiiiibicui a xuiobaiiLC uy \â^^
— —
MARY II. 135
,)|)iiii()ii of that favourite, whom she afterwards sought to

propitiate by the following soothing billet :
"THE PU1NCE88 OF OllANnE TO LaDY ClIURCniLL.'

"I)r, Staiili'j's K"i"ff t') KiikIuikI istoo ôod un opivirtunity for nic t« loso,
(.tiWifiirinj; ImlyCliurcliill hIic I'liiiiiot ylvn ino ^'router HiitiHfiiction than in lottiii}^
me know the tlriii nnd ifou Imvo tiikcu iioviT to
rfHolutioii botli lord Clmrchill
1h'
yon owe to you. rclijîon. Such a ffeiicrous ri'iMjltition, I
wmitin^' in vvliiit
am aurt', imiHt iniiki' you (U-hitvc the ostcom of all g(K»d ]K'opli«, nnd my mHter's
ill|iiuti(uliir. I lU'od say nothing of mine you have it upon u douhle necount ;
lismy sistir's friend, hesideH what I have said already, iin<l you may Imj assured
that I (ilmll alwiiyH he j,'lad of an oeeuHion to hIiow it hoth to your lord and yon.
" I liiive nothing more *o add for your friendHhip makes my sister as dear to
;
vfiiins to me, and I am persuaded w»f shall ever aj^'ee in our eare of her, as I
iielievu slie nnd I should in our kindness for you, were we uwir enough to renew
our acquaintance. «<

Maeie."
Another of these agreeable and friendly notes was written
by the princess of Orange to the woman of whom she avowed
"so ill an opinion" before, as well as after the Revolution.
The efforts of Mary, nevertheless, were vain to palliate the
political blunder she liad committed by hergenuine first
cxju'ession which had assuredly been commu-

of aversion,
nicated by Anne to its object. All these caresses, and hints
of future kindness when near enough, only effected an al-
liance between the house of Orange and that of Churchill
for a few important months :
"THE PkINCESS of OllANGE TO LaDY ClITTncniLL. r^, ,

dntc.l
"If it were as m [ uhj lo write to my lady Churchill ns it is iuird to find
i\safe liand, shi^ 11 . ici wonder
long silence, but I hojie she docs
justly at my
me more justi. 1 to think it my
have little to say ;it present, but
fault. I
tiiiit I lioiK' ii'\ >i>! and yoxi will never part. I send yon here one [letter] for
1
iier, and li;i» not any more time now, than only to assure yon that I shall
>
never for„^ ho kinttiiess you showed to her who is so dear to me. That, and
nil till! Lx-vl 1 have heard of yon, will make me ever your affectionate friend,
wbicli I shall be ready to show otherwise than by words when I have the oppor-
»"'»ty- " Mahie."
The letters of Anne at last announced to her sister in Hol-

land, that an unfortunate brother had nuule his entrance into
a world which proved so very adverse to him. This event,
ralamitous to himself, to his country, and to his father and
mother, took place on Trinity- Sunday] morning, J'lne 10th,
1688.2 The princess Anne had betaken herself to Bath on
• Dalrymple's Appendix, p. 303.
' See the Life of Mary Beatrice of Modena.
136 MARY II.
pretence of her situation needing the waters, in order that

she might not be present at the queen's accouchement; never-
theless, she wrote to her sister in the following strain. She
had arrived London from Bath, with prince George, on the
in
15th of June, and the prince sailed for Denmark two days
afterwards.
" The Cockpit, Jnnc 18, 1688,
" My
dear sister can't imagine tlio conconi and vexation I have been in, tliat
I should bo 80 unfortunate to be out of town when the queen was bronglit to
bed, for I shall never now Ix; satisfied whether the child be true or false. It
may bo it is our brother, but God knows "
Anne's vacillation between her own interest and her con.

science is visible throughout the composition of this epistle.
She continues,
" After all this, 'tis possible it ma^ be her child, [thL queen's,] but wliorc
one believes a thousand do not.

it, For my part, except they do ^nvc very
plain demonstrations, (which 'tis almost impossible now,) I shall ever Im of the
number of the unbelievers. I don't find that people are at all disheartened, tint
seena all of a mind, tvMch is a very comfortable thing at tuch a time as this."
Thus the princess Anne affirms of herself, that she found

it " a very comfortable thing " for every body to believe that
her father, from whom she had never received an angry
word, could be guilty of the crime of imposing a spurious
heir, not only on his country, but on himself and his family.
M When the crown coveted by Anne had been burning on
her brow for a few years, her ideas of the comforts arising
from gratified ambition were different, to which the details
of her physician. Dr. Arbuthnot, bear melancholy witness.
Part of the time of lier husband's absence in Denmark,
which lasted till October, was passed by Anne in visits to
her father, for her letters are dated from Windsor or Rich-
r.iond-palace. In one of these she says,
" Though we agree in matters of religion, yet I can't help fearing that you
are not of my opinion in other matters, because you have never answered me h
any thing that I have said of Roger, [lord Sunderland,] nor of Mimscl's [her
father's]' wife ?">
from this last epistle, that Mary

It is not difficîlt to gather
had exercised a certain degree of caution in noticing the
scandalous insinuations of Anne, who nevertheless proceeded
in the same strain, and in the next letter outwardly exults
• Dalrymplc'B Appendix, p. 304.

MARY II. 137
in the expected demise of her unwelcome little brother in

these words. It may be noticed, that in her glee at this
anticipation she calls —
him by his title, a sure proof of the
private conviction of her own heart, for the expectation of
his death did not alter the fact of the imposture, supposing
such had really taken place.
"The Cockpit, July 9, 1G88.«
" 'Hie priiicc of Wales has been ill these three or four cliiys j and if he has
been 80 bud as people say, I believe it will not be long before he isan angel in
Leaven."
At last, the princess of Orange responded to the principal

subject of her sister's letters, by sending to her a string of
queries relative to the birth of the prince of Wales, couched
in language inadmissible here. They were answered in the
same style by the princess Anne, who prefaced and ended
her answers with the following epistle :
"TDK Peincess Anne of Denmaek to the Pbincess of Oeanoe.'

« The Cockpit, July 24, 1688.
yesterday yours of the 19th, by wluch I find you are not satisfied
" I received
with the account I have given you in my last letter; but I hope you will
forgive me for being no more particular, when you consider that not being upon
the place, all I could know must be from others, and having tlien been but a
few days in town, I had not time to inquire so narrowly into things, as I have
since. But, before I say any more, I can't help you I am very sorry you
telling
should think I would be negligent in letting you know things of any con-
sequence; for though I am generally lazy, and it is true, indeed, when I write
by post, for the most part I make those letters very short, not dainng to tell
you any news by it, and bcmg very ill at invention, yet I hope you will forgive
my being lazy when I write such letters, since I have never missed any oppor-
tunity of giving you all the intelligence I am able ; and pray be not so unjust to
believe I can think the doing any thing you can desire any trouble, for, certainly,
I would Uii a great deal more for you, if it lay in my power, than the answering
your questions, which I shall now do as exactly as you desire."
These answers cannot be transcribed here, being given to

technical questions only comprehensible to medical persons,
though needlessly rendered disgusting by the princess Anne's
irreclaimable vulgarity of soul. Occasionally she betrayed,
unconsciously, her actual belief in the identity of her unfor-
tunate brother, and the same conviction must have occurred
to the clearer brain of the princess of Orange. Nothing
that the priA'y council afterwards received as evidence could
bring stronger testimony of that truth, than the queries and
Dolrymple's AppeudLx, p. 304. « Ibid., p. 308.
138 MARY II.
replies of these sisters. Anne, alter finisliing her answers

concludes her epistle in these words :
" I liiivc doiu) my ejuloiivour to inform myHclf of cvory tiling, for I Imve himiIcc
with Mrs. Diiwaoii, uiul iiskiul her nil tho <nu)stions 1 could think of, (for not
Innnp in tho room whon the (|ueiin wim hrouj^ht to hi'd, ono nniHt iii(|iiii,.(if
somelMMly thiit wiis thero). "'"l I thought she could tell mc iw nimh iw imy
h(Mly, mul vvoidd ho loss likely to Hpeiik of it. And I took all tho oirc I niuli
when I 8i)oko to her, to do it in Hueh a manner that I might know evtry [hm^^
and in ciiuo hIiu should lietray mo, that tho king and (juoon Hhould nut lie iui"rv
with mo."
Mrs. Dawson was an elderly lady, of the est.'vl)li.slic(l

religion. She belonged to the royal household, and h{\
been })resent with Anne Ilydc, duchess of York, when ])otli
the j)rincesses Mary and Anne were born. At a subscciucnt
period, she more soh^nudy attested to Anne that the prince
of Wales was as much the son of the queen, as she was tlic
daughter of the duchess of York. Iter conversation with
Anne at this juncture, had again awakened some (pialms of
conscience in the bosom of that princess, for she conclude

her letter with the following admission :
ios, as
"All hIio [Mrs. Dnwaon] says woniH vvondi>rfully dear; hut one dws not
know what it is wonderful, if it is no cheat, tlint tiny
to think, for mothinks father hea:
never took pains to convince me of it. 1 lioju! I have answered your letter as
strancc,"' in
fully as you desire ; ii' there he any thing else you wo\dd know, pray tell mo liy
tho first safe hand, and you shall always find mo very diligent in olx'yiiig joii, of " what
and showing, hy my actions, how real and sincere my kindness is." served am(
Nothing could be more embarrassing to a mind predeter- she had soi
mined as that of the princess of Orange to view the Inrtli of

her unwelcome brother with hostility, than the tender and " Sib,
irieiuUy letters she received from home by every post, written "lleiiig to
either by her faLher or his queen. She had been given no jilace I'lliiguo"
111" tlie 3lHt ol
feasible reason for resentment, and it was diflicult to rojjulsc
no moH! prayi
the tone of family affection which had been accustomed to liiul onelif hi
was
greet her with little billets of remembrance. The unfortu- liim it fo:
times neglect*
nate queen of her father employed her first convalescence [the prince oi
in writing to her, addressing her billet to "her dear Le-

Historici'
mon." It will be remembered, that this was a fond name
•
1
letters, see Li
invented at St. James's when the princess married, in con- * Ainhiussa
tradistinction to the name of Orange. How utterly uncon- amlmssadors

Oran(?e, who
scious the (luecn must have been of the detestable corre- M
' Uireh
' UiBtoricul Letters, edited hy sir H. Ellis j first Scries, vol. iii.
MAIIY II. 139
spondchcc ropjardiTif; passinjif between her step-daughters,

her
the use endearment shows. From the answer
of this little
of the princess of Orange, the queen gathered that the
friendship which she had formerly professed for her was
estranged. Again the princess received a letter,' dilKcult

to answer, the tone being that of tender remonstrance.
The replies of the princess of Orange to the queen's letters
seem to have been cold and ambiguous; they arc not pre-
served, but many indications of her latent displeasure daily
rcpeljcd England. A grand fete, with fireworks, had been

jîvcii to tlie resident ministers at tlu^ Hague by the British
k'ljation, in order to celebrate the birth of the prince of
Wales. The maids of the princess cf Orange had been in-
vited were not content with refusals,
guests; these ladies
Imt they manifested great anger, and reviled the inviter.^
Moreover, it was obs(;rvcd tliat the prince of Wales had not

constantly the benefit of the prayers of his sister in her
^'nglisii chapel : sometimes he was prayed for, and some-
tes, as her father observes, quite omitted. When her
father heard of this neglect he wrote a letter of remon-
strance,"'in which he asked his daughter the difficult question
of "what oftcnee had been given?" Her answer is pre-
served among her father's papers. It will be noticed, that
siio had somewhat lost her English orthography:
"THE PkINCESS of ObaNGE TO .IaMEB II.*
" Slu, " Hague, August 17, 1688.

" Hciiig to go to Loo next Thursday, if it ))lcaso God, I am conio to thia
plaoo [lliiguo] to go hake at night. Jjast Thursday I rewived your nuijesty's
(if till! 31st ol" .July, by which 1 hcu you had heard that the prince of Wales was
111)moH! prayed for in my chapell hut h)ng before this, you will know that it
;
IkkI onaJji bin sometimes forgot. M. d'Albcville can assure you I never told
Imn it was forbid, so that they tvenr only conjectures made ujK)n its being some-
times ncglecUid ; hut he can tell, as I ilnd your majesty already knows, that he
[the prince of Wales] wt«j jirayod for heer long liefore it was done in England.
' Historical Letters, edited by sir H. Ellis ; first Series, vol. iii. For the
letters, see Life of Mary Ikatrieo.
'^
D'Avaux vol. vi. p. 333. It must l)e recollected tluit all
Ambiussadcs of :
ainbiissadorswere sent to the States of Holland, and not to the prince of

Oran(?e, who was but their fimctionary.
' Uirch
MS. There are only a few words from this letter extracted by Birch.
* Urigiuol Papers, ecUtcd by Macpliurson, vol. i.
— —
140 MARY II.
" This excessive hot ioether continues longer than I ever knew it,
wliicli I
my journey ; I have nothing more to add at pr'^scnt

shall lind sufficiently in
than only to beg your majesty to believe, wherever I am, I shall sti^l \k
your
majesty's most obedient daughter and servant, «<
Mauie "
Another letter of remonstrance was cceived by the princess >
of Orange from her father's wife, wlio anxiously required

from er step-daughter expressions of sisterly love towards
the nv.A'-born infant.^ The correspondence continued bo-
tween the princess of Orange and the queen until the land-
ing of William. Now and then a letter has been preserved,
either by James II. or William III., which presents us Avitli
a tantalizing glimpse of their conduct and feelings.
There is reason to suppose that the practice of toleration
of difTerv/nt sects was nearly on the same footing, in the year
1688, as it is at the present time, since the princess Anne
thus writes to her sister :
" It a melancholy prospect that all we of the church of England lmv:>,

is
All sectaries may now do as they please. Every one ha^ the free exercise of
their religion, on purpose, no doubt, to ruin an, which I think, to all impartial
judges, is very plain. For my part, I expect every moment to be spoke to
about my religion, and wonder very much I have heard nothing of it yet."
Anne, throughout the summer, vaiidy awaited some per-

secution from her father. She reiterates this expectation
so often, that she must have been disappointed that it never
came. She paid a visit to her father at Windsor-castle
during her husband's absence in Denmark. She wrote to
her sister thus :
« Windsor, August 18, 1G88,

"I am in as great expectation of being tormented as ever, for I never can
believe thatMansel [the king her father] would go on so violently, if ho liail
not some hopes that in time ho may gaui either you or me."
For the first time, some cause of alarm seemed to exist,

since, while she was alone at Windsor with the king her
father, he introduced the pope's legate to her when the
queen was holding a grand drawing-room at the castle.'^
Nothing further came of this presentation than fright. The
princess attended sermons and lectures three times in St.
George's chapel that day, as a security against the insidious
» Historical Letters, edited by sir II. Ellis j first Series, vol. iii. See the
letter, Life of Mary Beatrice.

iiisiiop Cartwright's Diary ; published by the Camden Society.
—
MARY II 141
attacks of the newly arrived legate, whom her father had

madly invited, or rather forced,' into his dominions, to in-
the people to revolution. Directly Bancroft and his
Wm cense
irclates were incarcerated in the Tower, the princess of
Orant'c caused another epistle to be addressed to him, by the
pen of Dr. Stanley, from Hounslardyke, where her court
w<as then abiding, to inform him of the exultation with which

his firm resistance to the Roman-catholic king's behests was
viewed in Holland :
" All men," wrote Dr. Stanley, " that love the Reformation, do rejoice in it.
and thank God for it, as an act most resolute and every way becoming your
pLiees.
and princess were woU pleased with
Rut, especially, our excellent prince
it,
(notwithstanding all that the marquess of All)eville, the king's envoy here,
could siiy against it,) that they have both vindiciited it before him, and given
ine a command, in their

names, to return your grace their hearty tlmnks for it,
p.nd at the same time to
express their real concern for your grace and all your Ksl
bretlu-en, and for the good cause in which your grace is engaged ; and your
rcfiBing to comity with the king [James II.] is by no means looked upon by
them as tendinis to disparage the monarchy, for they reckon the monarchy to be
really undervalued by illegal actions. Indeed, we have great reason to bless and
thank God for their highnesses' steadiness in so good a cause."
No response did all these notes of exultation elicit from the

venerable patriarch of the reformed church. Bowed down
with sorrow, mourning over the wounds that beloved church
was receiving through the apostacy of the king, whose duty
it was to protect her, he anticipated no very great ame-
lioration of them from a foreigner, whose belief vibrated
between deism and predestinarianism. No flattery could

obtam from Sancroft one murmur, one factious complaint.
He had companions in his imprisonment, spirits worthy of
communion with hi' own. One was Dr. Ken, the late
almoner v'^f the princess of Orange, bishop cf Bath and
Wells. It must have been from him that Sancroft derived
his deep distrust of the motives of the prince and princess
of Orange, for Ken had been domesticated with the prince,
had been witness of his immoral private life, and his bad
influence over his wife.
' being himself an ally of the prince of Orange, as the emperor's
Ttie pope,
general againstLouis XIV., was extremely miwilling to send the legate, as ho
was apprehensive of showing symptoms of friendship to any sovereign not
banded in the league against France, which was unaccountably called " The
Protestunt League," although Spain, Austi'ia, and the pope wore engaged in it.
142 MARY II.
The incarcerated prelates of the church of England were

triumphantly n'^quitted by a jury at Westminster-hall, and
subsequently i icased. King James, by his secession to the
v
church of Rome, had deprived himself of the active loyalty

of the reformed church, and had given the best and most
high principled of his subjects no other alternative than that
of standing mournfully neuter to witness the completion of
his ruin, although nothing could induce them, either from
motives of revenge or interest, to hasten it. That ruin now
came on with fearful velocity, accelerated by his own trusted
and beloved children. There was little need for cither the
prince or princess of Orange, or the princess Anne, to have
disgraced themselves by the course they took; the natural
tide of events must have led to the results which occurred.

The people had looked anxiously towards her whom they
long considered as the heiress of their throne, —a rcsem.
blance was even fancied between her person and that i
queen Elizabeth ; and this popular notion perhaps prompted

the reply of Edmund Waller to James II., when the king
gave the veteran poet and statesman an audience in his
private cabinet. " How do you like that portrait of my
eldest daughter?'' asked the father, drawing Waller's atten-

tion to a fine whole-length of Mary, just opposite to his
chair. " My eyes are dim," replied Waller ; " but if that
is the princess of Orange, she bears some resemblance to the
greatest woman the world ever saw." The king asked who
he meant, and testified some surprise when Waller answered
—
" queen Elizabeth." " She had great ministers," drily ob-
served the king. " And when did your majesty ever know
a fool choose wise ones?" rejoined Waller, impressively.
The great-grandson of Mary queen of Scots might have
been excused for not joining very cordially in the praises of
queen Elizabeth. This anecdote, for some reason, although
it contains proof of his parental feelings for his daughter,
has been related to his injury and to her advantage. The
picture referred to in the anecdote was that which now
presents itself on the left hand at entering the royal suite
pt T-r{iTnnfnn_r!nrir+. Tlin lio-lifnnss nf flip r^nmnlpxinU Sud

MARY II. 143
hair and the sharpness of the lower part of the face, give a
shade of family likeness to queen Elizabeth ; hut there is
another portrait, a half-length, over the door of the royal

closet, which is a better resemblance of the princess herself.
Both are by the Dutch artist, Wissing. He was, although
a Dutchman, not
employed by William of Orange, but by
James ix. The father, who had not seen his beloved Mary
for some years, desu'ed to have a resemblance of her after
he For this purpose he sent his painter, Wissing,
was king.
to and gave him a commission to paint the portraits
Holland,
of his daughter and his son-in-law, and bring them back to
England with him. Wissing did so, but died early in 1687;'
therefore these Hampton-Court portraits must be dated be-
tween king James's accession and the death of the artist.
The two portraits of Mary, which are nearly duplicates in

design, were painted on this occasion ; one being left in Hol-
land, and the other found at Hampton-Court when the un-
dutiful her father's personal

original took possession of all
property. There is likewise an equestrian portrait of Wil-
liam III., which must have decsived greatly all his young
romantic partisans in England, who named the Orange pair,

from Wissing's portraits, " Ormanzor and Phenixiana."
William appears in the proportions of a hero of seven feet in
height, instead of a small man two feet shorter. James II.
was amused at this flattery of his Dutch painter, but it had
its effect in England.
It is the half-length portrait of Mary, by Wissing, which is m

engraved for The princess
the frontispiece of this volume.
is seated in her garden she is dressed in a gown of the
;
full blue -colour, which was then called garter-blue. She

holds back her veil with one hand. She has no ornament
on her head, but wears a throat-necklace of large pearls.
In the reign of James II., public opinion spoke at con-
vivial meetings in quaint rhymes, called toasts, Avhich were
sung at the time when healths were drunk. " I know not
whether you have heard a health [toast] that goes about,
which is new to me just now, so I send it j'ou." ^
' Bryant'n Dictionary of Painters and Eiifp-avers. Wissing had been the
assistant of Pet«r Lely, and was historical-painter to James II.
sir
' Letter written to Rachel Russell, afterwards duchess of Devonshire, fi-om
;
144 MARY II.
Toast.
" The king God bless,
And encli princess
The church no less,
Which wo profess '
As did queen Bess."
The princess Anne arrived from Tunbridge September 18

and met her husband at Windsor-castle. The very same
day, king James travelled to London in company with tlic
prince and princess. The former being invited to accompany
the king to Chatham, surprise was excited that Anne tarried
not at Windsor, as she usually did, to bear the queen com-
pany, who was left alone. It was said that she had, on her
arrival, /net with a cold reception from the queen, who had
hejird tliat she held too close a correspondence with the court
at the Hague.^
A few days after, her uncle, lord Clarendon, attended her
levee, and found her in her bedchamber, with only one of
her dressers, completing her toilet. The reports of the pro-
jected invasion from Holland were agitating all London,

Anxious thoughts regarding the welfare of his royal master
weighed heavily on the loyal heart of Clarendon, and lie
earnestly wished to awaken a responding interest in the

heart of Anne. His diary preserves the following dialogue
between himself and his niece. " She asked me, ' Why I did
not come to her as often as I used to do?' I answjred, that
" Her royal highness had not been long in town ; but that,
wherever I was, I should be ready to wait upon her, if site
had any commands for me.' She then told me 'that she
had found the king much agitated about the preparations
which were making in Holland,' and asked me * what I had
heard ?' I said, ' I was out of all mfinner of business, aud,
truly, that I heard nothing but common rumours.' "^ The
princess then expressed her detestation of lord and lady
Sunderland ; upon which her uncle observed, " that he Mas
IE,
much surprised to find her royal highness in that mind
u a-
towards lady Sunderland, in whom all the world thought slic
took the kindest concern ; and," added he, " may I presume
'î'':MM
the family papers of his grace the duke of Devonshire, copied, by bis kinJ
iHESiiam Lawjitri'iii;.!' .:».-:
permission, July 1846.

' Lamberty, vol. i. p. 298. * Claxendon Diary, vol. ii. p. 189.
'
MARY II. 145
to ask what is the matter between ye ?" —" I think her the
worst woman in the world," responded the prineess Anne.
A pause ensued, which was broken by lord Chirendon saying,
"I wish your royal highness had not heretofore thought so
well of her, but I am you had a just caution
certain that
given you of her." Thus the which the princess
revilings in
ever indulged when the name of lady Sunderland occurred

to her in writing or conversation, had been preceded by a
close intimacy, against which her uncle had vainly warned
her. The princess did not like the last reminiscence, and
looked at her watch, a huge appendage, almost as large as a
time-piece, such as was then carried by ladies, on which
her uncle withdrew. " What can this mean ?" he wrote, in
comment on this dialogue, after recording it in his diary;
"she seems to have a mind to say something, and yet is
upon a reserve."
The next day, lord Clarendon attended at White^xall-
palace the levee of her father, who expressed his ceriainty
of the invasion by his son-in-law. " In the afternoon," he
continues, " I waited again on the princess Anne.^ I told
her what had passed between the king and me. She answer-
ed, very drily, 'I know nothing but what the prince, my
husband, tells me hefrom the king.' " In the course
heart, I i
of a few days, her uncle made
a positive attempt on her feel-
ings as a daughter, thinking that, as she was so infinitely
beloved by James II., she might successfully warn him of
his danger, when the following dialogue took place between

me 'that slie
the uncle and the niece.^ She mentioned "that the king
had received an express, which declared that all the Dutch
le * what I had
troops were embarked, and that the prince of Orange was to
embark on Monday next, and that lord Shrewsbury, lord

Wiltshire, and Henry Sidney we "" with them ;" she added,
"that the king, her father, seemed much distui'bed, and very
melancholy." —
"I took the liberty to say," proceeds lord
Clarendon, that " it was pity nobody would take this oppor-
tunity of speaking honestly to the king ; and that I humbly
thought it would be very proper for her royal highness to say

• Clarendon Diary, vol. ii. p. 189. » Ibid. » Ibid., p. 191.
VOL. VII. L !#
I
110 MAllY ir.
8omcthin}i; to liini, uiul hcf? Imn to confer with .sonu' of hi,,
olil friends, who hud idwiiys s('rv(Ml him fiiithfully."— "|

never Hpeak to the kinj^ on liiisiness," was the juiswct of tin;
prineesH Anne to this jipocid. Her nnek; replicid, tliat " Ihr
father couhl not but take it W(!ll to see her royal lii;j;liu(i,ss
coneertu>(l tor him; that it mi^ht prodiuu? some jôod cd'cct
and no ill eotdd p.)ssil)ly (;ome of it. Mnt," contimuss he

" the more presr-ed her, tiu; more reserviid slie !)t'('iunc."
I
At last she said that "she mnst (h'ess herself, for it was
almost pray(M' time."' Tlu^ dan^hter then went forth to
pray, and (Manmdon, j^rieved by the nselessness of his

attcmipt to awaken her filial feelings, n^tired with a hwy
heart
Whilst sneh were the proceedirifj^s of tlie yonn<!;er sister,
tl»e elder, inllollantl, was aeting a part, the tiirpitiKh; of
whieh, it might be snpposed, no fanatical scdf-cUnu^ptioii could

veil from h(!r own eonaeicmee. lier deepest gnilt was lie
falsehood by whieh
sought to (h;ceive her father rohitive
;she
to the preparations })eing nuide iti Holland for the iuviision

of England, \vhi{!h she repeatedly assured him were merely
for tlie usual serviee of the emperor. This untruth Mary
repeated constantly to her unfortunate fathei-, who, until
the middle of Septend)er, renniined utterly trustl'id in his
daughter's integrity; insonuudi, tliat about this time howiit
H ,,•('^1
his faithful servant the hite envoy, l}(!vil Ski Itoii, to the
Tower for too warmly insisting "that the prine(!ss of Orange's

letters declaring that the arnuiment at llolhuid Avas but for
the service of the emperor of (lermaii}^, were utter deceit,

as he had just been recalled from Holland, and knew it was
to invade Englaml." A very few days, liowcwer, convinced
the unhappy father of the truth, as may be discovered by his
letter to her, dated September Jilst.'^

MilIMI'' "James II. to his dauokter Mauy.
" Wliltt'liiill, Soi)t. 21, KISS.
"All the discoiirso lioro is ul)fnit tlio groat ]m'j)ii rut ions iimkiiijij in Ilolliind,
tii ami wlmt tlio ^^roat iloiit, whicli is coming out to sea from tliouco, 'm to do. A
Utile time will show,"^
1 Clarondou Diary, vol. ii. \\ 191. ' liumlwrty, vol. i. p. 298.

: 1^
- .AUUltlUllUl ilLO., -JIXUU, lUllU ± JJlll/lOli iM.uS@U!ll.
i
—
MARY II. 117
"Jambs II. to hih uauoiitkr Maky.

'•
VVliil.liulI, H«'pt. 25, inH8.
" I »«! Ity youro of tlm 20tli itiHt., tliut \\w prince nf OniiiK'' wiih ôik- in tlio
llii)(iu'; ixiil t'roin tliciicc, tliitt lie wiih iirrivcil. Wliitt, liix hiiNincHH 'm tliero »l
tliin time, I <l() rttilly Ix-lii've you mo not iwi|iiaint<'(l wllli, nor witli tlic roKulii-
timi lie 1ms tiikcn, wliirli iiliirnm all people here very minli."'
The calnuuisH of the succ(!(!(liii{^ hitter, written under tlic
uttor conviction that liis Hon-in-hivv wjih about to invade l»im,

ill profound peace, is very remarkable. For, whatsoever
injiiiy mi^ht meditate ajâinst the eliurch of
James II.
Eii;,'liiiid, Mary and lier husband liad received nothing but
good from him :
".IaMKS II. TO lllfl DAFOnTRK MaIIY.'

" Wlilielmll, Sept. 28, 1088.
'TIiIh cvonhijf 1 liad yotirs of ilio 4lli, from Diuren, by whieli I find you
were tlicii the Hajijue, beinj^ Hunt for l»y the priiuie.
to ^?o to 1 Hup])OHC' it is
t<)inr(iriii you of liiH (lesiji;u of cooiiii^f to Knj^laiid, which ho him Imh-u ko lonj?
acmdrhin;), I hojw if, uill hnvr ln'cn ns grtuil a Murprmi to i/ou* as it was
tome, irht'ti Huro it m not in your nature to approve of
I Jlml. heard 11, heijij?
80 mijust an uiul "rtakin><.have Iwen all this day ho buHy, to endeavour to bo

I
in Hoine condition to defend niyHelf from ho unjust and unexp(!cted an attempt,
tlint I am ahnoHt tiriMJ, and ho I Hhall nay no more but that I nhall always
Imve UH much kiudnoHM for you as you will jjivo mc leavo to have."
These letters were followed by others, which, in their pa-

renttal simplicity, must have been heart-rending to any one
not exactly provided with a lieart of marble. The evident
failure of physical strength expressed by the ohl father, the
worn-out hero of many a hard battle, wliile making ready
to repel the liostility of his children, ought to have been
agonizing to the daughter.
"James II. to his dauguteh Maky.
" Whitehall, Oct. 2, 1088.
"I WIIH tliiH morninp abroad to take the air, and to see Home batteries I have
made l)el(jw Woolwich for the defence of the rive.'. And Hinee I cumo back, I
have Ixjcn k very busy to prepare
thin^;>i for the invasion intended, that I
could not write till now, that 'tis near midni^^ht, so that you might not wonder
if my Idter be shoi-t. For news, you will have it from othorn, for really I am
very weary ; so nliall end, whi(;li 1 do, with asHuring you of my continuing us
kind to you as you can desire."*
The tone of calm sorrow is remarkable in the last and most

tender of these epistles. It will be seen, by the date, that
• Additional MS., 4103, folio 1 ; British Museum. « Ibid.
' Here the king alludes to Mary's often rei)euted asseverations to him regard-
ing this force.
* Additional MS., 4163, folio 1, Birch; British Museum.
'SSWST!!
L 2
148 MARY II.
the correspondence between the father and daughter was

constant, even down to a few days of tlie landing of his
enemy. Surely this letter, gentle and reasonable as it in
searching for excuses, and hoping against hope that

still
he had the sympathy of his child, persuading himself, and

quite willing to persuade her, that she did not purticipiito
in aught against h ,replete with touching pathos. The

is
old Greek tragedians often imagined such situations; they

could grandly paint the feelings natural to a mind torn
between the clashing interests of and conjugal love,

filial
just as the old monarch supposes here was the case with
his Mary ; but neither poet nor moralist has described con-
duct like that of the royal heroine of the revolution of 1688,
" King James tu his dauohteb Maky.
" Whitehall, Oot. 9, 1688.
" I had no letter from you by t1 Inst post, wliich yoii see dws not liindcr
>
me from writing to you now, not knowing, ceiiuinly, what may have hiiulind
you from doing it. I easily believe you may be embarrassed liow to write t
me, now that the unjust design of the prince of Orange's invading ine is so
public. And though I know you are a good wife, and ought to be so, yet for
the same reason I must beUevi you will be still as good a daughter to a f'utlier
that has always loved you so tenderly, and that has ncser done tlie least thing
to make you doubt it. I shall say no more, and Iwlieve you very uneasy all
this time, for the concern you must have for a husband and a father. You
shall still find me kind to you, if you desire it.">
Perhaps this was the last letter that passed at this crisis
from the father to the daughter. It does honour to the
king, for here we see the patient and much-endming love
of the parent. It is a letter, the retrospection of which must
have cut deep into the conscience, if " Mary the daughter,"
ever reviewed the past in the lone silent watches of the
night.
While James II. was thus writing to the elder princess,
his faithful brother-in-law. Clarendon, was labouring to awake

some filial fears in the obtuse mind of his niece, Anne. It
was more than a fortnight before he could obtain another
conference with her, for she avoided all his attempts at pri-
vate conversation. He visited her, however, in the evening

of October 10, when she made an observation regarding her
father's evident anguish of mind. Lord Clarendon told her

* Additional MS., 4163, folio X, Bircli ; British Muaeum.
MAllY II. 119
"that it was her duty to speak freely to the king, which

would be a comfort to him." To this the princess made no
rc|)lv. Clarendon soon after attended the ro}al levco at
Whitehall. There king James told him the news, tluit the
prince of Orange had embarked with all the Dutch troops,
and would sail with the first favourable wind. " I liave no-
thing," added the unfortunate father, " by this day's ])ost
from my daughter, the princess of Orange, and it is the first
time I ]\nve missed hearing from her for a long time."' He

never Lord Clarendon almost forced
heard from her again.
an interview with his niece Anne. " I told her,'^ he writes
in his journal,
" most of what the king had said. I earnest-
ly pressed her to speak to him. I entreated her to be the
means of prevailing on him
Home of his faithful old
to hear
friends; but," he bitterly adds, " she would do nr /hing I"
Just at this time were reports that the Dutch expedif on
i
was scattered and injured by heavy October gales. Ju;ae8

I
II. ordered the examination to t;ikc place befo '^
his privy
council relative to the birth of the prince of V ah s. Lord
''
Clarendon, as the uncle of the princesses whose claims to the

British throne were apparently superseded by the birth of
their brother,was requested to be present at the depositions
taken by the numerous witnesses on oath.'^ He had never
for a moment entertained a doubt on the subject, and he
seems to think that the most unbelieving must henceforth
rest convinced that the report of a spurious child was a
calumny. The princess, his niece, was at her levee when,
on the morning of the 23rd of October, her maternal uncle
honestly came to tell her his opiiiiovs of the identity of her
brother, — simple man li oping to satisfy and relieve her
!
mind. He had not had the benefit of perusing her pri-

vate sentiments on the subject as our readers have done;
he knew not that a letter written by her hand then existed,
declaring " that she thought it a comfort that all people in
England asserted that the infant prince, her brother, was
an impostor." The princess was dressing for prayers, all
* Clarendon Diary, vol. ii. p. 194;.
' See the Life of Mary Beatrice of Modena.

150 MARY II.
her women were about her, and they and their mistress
were loud in mirth and jest when lord Clarendon added
himself to the group at the toilette. The princess at once
plunged boldly and publicly into the discussion, which
she knew was on her uncle's mind. " Fine discourse," she
exclaimed,^ "you heard at council yesterday;" and then
she made herself very merry with the whole affair, laughing
loud and long and as her dressing proceeded, her women
;
put in their jests. Her uncle was scandalized and disgusted

by the scene. " I was," he says, " amazed at her behaviour
but I thought it unfit to say any thing then. I whispered
to her royal highness, to request that she would give me
leave to speak with her in private. ' It grows late,'
rephed
the princess, 'and I must hasten to prayers; but you can
come at any time, except this afternoon.' So I went home.
In the evening my brother Lawrence was with me. I told
him all concerning the princess Anne. I begged him to gu
and talk to her. ' It will
signify nothing,*" emphatically
replied the other uncle of the princess.
The wish of lord Clarendon, in seeking these interviews
with his niece, was to awaken her filial afifection to a sense
of her father's danger ; and if he could efiect this, lie meant

to induce her to become the mediatrix between his majesty
and his loyal people for the security of the church of Eng-
land, obtaining at the same time a guarantee that her infant
brother should be brought up in that faith. Clarendon

dreaded as much danger to that beloved church from the
dissenting prince who aspired to be its head, as from the
Roman-catholic head then in authority. James was injur-

ing the church by storm; William, whom he well knew,
would proceed by sap one wounded, the other would pa-
:
ralyse. In the afternoon, lord Clarendon paid another visit

to the princess, his niece. She made many excuses to
avoid a conference with him. "I fancy," he remarks, in
his journal, " that she has no mind to talk to me." Anne
certainly anticipated the reproof her uncle was resolved to
administer for her odious conduct at his former visit. Lord
• Clarendon Diary, vol. ii. p. 196.

4
MARY II. 151
Clarendon asked her, " If she had received any letters from
the princess of Orange?" — "No/' said the princess, "I have
not had any for a long while ;" and added, " that her sister
never wrote to her of any of these matters." How falsely
she spoke, her uncle could not tell so well as the readers of
her prerious letters.
Lord Clarendon visited the princess two days later. She
but as lady Churchill was present, he resolved
was dressing,
to delay the admonition he was waiting for a suitable oppor-
tunity to administer. Two days after, he found her at home.

"She came," he says, "out of her closet very quickly, and
told me was sorry she had disappointed me so often
that she
when I desired to speak to her, and she now wished to know
what I had to say." Then the reproof which Anne had so
well deserved was administeied. "I told her," continues
her uncle, " that I was extremely surprised and shocked the
other day, to find her royal highness speak so slightingly re-

garding her family affairs, and above all, to suffer her women
to break their unseemly jests regarding the birth of her
brother." The princess replied, " Suie you cannot but hear
the common rumours concerning him ?" " I do hear very
!
—
strange rumours, indeed," said her uncle, "as every one
must do who lives publicly in the world; but there is no
eoloui" for these."
— "I will not say that I believe them,"
replied the princess; "but I needs must say, that the
queen's and here Anne, al-
behaviour was very odd," —
though a young woman, and speaking to a man, used ex-
pressions of that vulgar coarseness, of which no examples
are to be found like hers, either from the lips or pen of
a British even in the ages of semi-barbarism.'

princess,
"Possibly," repliedClarendon, "the queen did not know
the reports." —
"I am sure," answered the princess Anne,
"the king [James II.] knew of them; for, as he has been
sittmg by me in my own chamber, he would speak of the
idle stories that w'^re given out of the queen not being
likely to have a child, laughing at them ; therefore I can-
not bat wonder that there was no more care taken to satisfy
' Diary of Henry curl of Ciarondon.
153 MARY II.
the world." This speech proves that James II. spent Ms

time occasionally sitting by his daughter's side, and con-
versing familiarly with her. Clarendon asked, " If her royal
highness had, upon those occasions, said any thing to the
king her father ?" The princess Anne owned " that she had
not." —
"Then," said her uncle, "your father might very
well think that you minded the reports no more than he did
since you said nothing to him, even when he gave you op.
portunities; when, in my humble opinion, if you had felt
the least dissatisfaction, you ought to have discovered it
for the public good, as well as for your own sake, and that
of the princess of Orange." —
" If I had said any thing to
the king," replied the princess Anne, " he might have been
angry, and then God knows what might have happen-
ed." —
"If you had no mind to have spoken to the king
yourself," observed her uncle, " you have friends, who would
have managed to serve you without ]irejudice to you. And
remember,'' continued the stern royidist, "this is the first
time you have said any thing to me, although I have given
you occasion to open your mind, by urging your spealdng to
the king your father since these alarms of invasion." He
concluded by begging the princess " to consider the miseries
which might be entailel upon these kingdoms, even in case
that God might bless the king her father with more sons.
And he requested her to do something which might publicly
prove her satisfaction that her brother was no spurious
child." To all this, she made no answer. It was not in-
deed a very palatable suggestion to the princess Anne, whicli
bade her look forward to a succession of brothers, consider-
ing the infinity of pains she had taken to invalidate the birth
of the only one in existence.
( The next day, the king ordered his whole privy council to
wait upon his daughter, the princess Anne, with copies of
the depositions concerning the birth of the prince of Wales.
In the evening they brought them to her in state. Upon

receiving the depositions from the lords of the privy council,
the princess replied, " My lords, this was not necessary for ;
1
much duty for the kiug, that his wOrd la luore to
MABY II. 153
me than all these depositions."* Such were the outward

expressions of the lips of the princess Anne, which were in
utter contradiction to her private words and writings. She
need not have soiled her mind and conscience with duplicity,
and dark and dirty intrigues. England would have denied
the succession to an heir bred a Roman-catholic, even if his
sisters had been truthful women, Hkewise grateful and dutiful

daughters. Lord Clarendon was in the ante-room, and heard
the fair-seeming reply of his niece, and when the lords of
council went out, he entered her presence. " The princess,"
he said, " was pleased to tell me the answer she gave to the
council. I hope," returned Clarendon, " that there now re-
mains no suspicion with your royal highness." She made
,:**
no answer.'*
• Diary and Correspondence of Henry lord Clarendon, edited by S. W.

pp. 198, 199.
Singer, esq., vol. ii. a jtid,,
p, 120.
^
MARY 11.
CHAPTER IV.
—
Proceedings of the princess of Orange at the Hague Her conversation with
Uuriiet — —
Her reflections on the memory of Mary queen of Scots Lotto of
her step-mother — —
Emharkation of her hushand to invade England Forbids
prayers for her father — —
Landing of the prince of Orange Last interview of
the princess Anne and her father, (James II.) —Conversation with her mido
— —
Clarendon Her father leaves London for the army Her hushand and lord
Churchill forsake him — — —
Her connivance- Her escape from Whitehall .loiii;
—
her father's enemies Arrival at Nottingham — Joins an association against
—
her father Disgusts lord Chesterfield — Conduct of her household at the
Cockpit — —
Her triumphant entry into Oxford Her forces headed hy bisliop
— —
Compton Stays ft-om London till her father leaves it Goes to the play m
orange ribbons— —
Danger of her father that night Stern reproofs of hor
—
uncle Clarendon Controversy of the succession —
Rights of the daughters of
— —
James II. Uneasiness of the princess Anne Convention declares Mary sole
—
sovereign-regnant —
Rage of her husband She yields precedence to Williiim
— Is associated with him in regality — Princess Anne yields her place to him
— Mary leaves Holland.
Our narrative now leads us back for a few weeks, to witness

the proceedings of the elder daughter of James II. at her
court of the Hague, which was in an equal ferment of agi-
tated expectation with that of England. Here the princess
was occupied in listening, with apparent simplicity, to tlie

polemic and political explanations of Dr. Eurnet in Holland,
who had undertaken, by special commission, to render her
subservient to the principles of '^ coming revolution. Those
'
who have seen the correspondence of the daughters of James

II. may deem that the doctor might have spaced any su-
perfluous circumlocution in the case; but on comparison
of his words and those letters, it will be found that it pleased
the princess of Orange to assume an appearance of great
ignorance regarairig tiiG procccaings in England. ' one
knew but little of our affairs," says Burnet, "till / was

«
i
MARY II. 155
admitted to wait upon her, and / began to lay before her
the stale of our court, and the intrigues in it ever since
the Restoration, which she received with great satisfaction,
and true judgment and good sense in all the reflections

she made."
Another subject of discussion with the princess of Orange
and Burnet, was the reported imposition icgarding the birth
of unhappy brother and unconscious rival, which slan-

her
der assumed as a truth but the princess, stifling the

each ;
memoi'y of her sister's disgusting letters and her own re-

plies, appeared to hear it with astonishment for the first
time. In the course of these singular conversations, Burnet

observes, "the princess asked me 'what had sharpened the
king, her father, so much against M. Jurieu?'"' The real

reason has been detailed in the previous chapter. It was
for writing a violent attack on her father, accusing him of
liaving cut the throat of the earl of Essex in the Tower.
Mary knew this well ; for it had been the cause of indignant
discussion and the recall of Chudleigh, the British envoy,
who woidd not endure to Avitness the presentation of such
a libel by Jurieu to the prince of Orange in full levee.
'^
Burnet was not aware that the princess meant to discuss

Jurieu's foul attack on her father. Perhaps the fact was
only recorded in the ambassador's reports; for Burnet re-
plied, wide of the mark, "that Jurieu had written with
great indecency of Mary queen of Scots, which cast re-
flections on them that were descended from her, and was
not very decent, in one employed by the prince and her-
self." To this the princess ansAvered, by giving her own

especial recipe for historical biography, ;!S follows: "That
Jurieu was to support the crûse he defended, and to expose
those that persecuted it in the best way'* he could;" and,
"if what he said of Mary queen of Scots was true, he was
not to be blamed;" and she added, "that if princesses will
do ill things, they must expect thi, ihe world will tcVc that
revenge on their memories that it cannot on their pe, ' ts."^
* Burnet's History of his Own Times.

* Ambassades of D*Avaux, and Skciton's Duspatclies.
' Mary means "the worst way he could." * Burnet's Own Times. ,
'^
—
156 MARY II.
A iiôre rational method of judging than that induced by the
furi(ms and one-sided advocacy this princess approved, and

which she was pleased to see stain the memory of her Imp.
less ancestress, (on whose permn pnrt v vengeance had been
wreaked to the uttermost,) is by the test of fpcts, ilhistrated
by autograph letters. By thf* spi* it of a iêmiine correspond-
enc.' may the characteristics -f hi;jtoricai pcisu i>jrcs best be
illustrated, and (he tilth, as 'i ether ''\\\ 1;his!j;,> '

are done,
best ascertained. The united aid of facts and letters will

throAN' lij^ht even on the deeply- veiled character of Mary II,
of Er!j]^]iv'id.
Aljout the time this convorsation took p.>ace between this
highly-praised princess and her p'anejryriot Barnet, she re-
ceived the following let^^êr from her stv s motlur, —a princess
vfho has had her full share of tltis uorld^s revilings :
'Queen Mary Beateice to Mahy Pkincess op Ohanoe.'

" Sept. 28, 1688,
" T am much troubled what to my, at a time when nothing is talked of but
the prince of Orange coming over j with an army this has been said for a long
time, and believed by a great maiw, but I do protest to you that I never did
believe now, veiy lately, that I \y.\ve no possibility left of doubting it. The
till
second part of the news I will never Lelicve, which is, that you ai*c to come over
with him, for I know you to be too good. I do not believe you could have such
a thought against the worst of fathert, much less to perform it against the best,
who iias always been so kind to you, aiid 1 do believe, has loved you better than
any of his children."
Mary had again written to her father, only a few days before
the receipt of the ahove letter, that the journey her husband
had taken to Minden, whence he returned September 20,
1688, was for the sole purpose of getting the German princes
in congress there to march against France, he being still the
generalissimo of the war of Spain and the emperor against
Louis XIV. James II. showed his daughter's letter to Ba-
rillon, the French ambassador, then at his court, as an answer
to his warnings regarding the Dutch armament.* Meantime,

> Historical Letters, edited by sir H. Ellis ; first Series, vol. iii.
Mazure, from Albeville's Despatches. Barillon's Despatches to Louis XIT,,

'
166; 1688. Fox MSS. The inforr .tion is preserved by the statesman C. J.
Fox, who, when he came to open t;>, !(^;umentary history of th(- lli'voluti''".
threw down his pen, and left the v a fragment.
•
The same curious ' ;
cidence occurs with sir James M. sh, and the documentary conclusioi; v
i
'"
Wallace is in direct contr tiov ûe commencement. Every historian who
attempts to write from doc n' this era accordhig to the wliig bias, aud
, , t
gives true and direct refen. ?, t fwijus in the some predicament,
M
MARY II. 157
Bevil Skelton, the cavalier ambassador lately at the Hague,

from his prison in the Tower still perseveringly warned his
royal master of the real machinations of Mary and her spouse.
Louis XIV. oflfered to intercept the fleet preparing for the
invasion of England, but nothing could induce the father to
believe these warnings in preference to the letters of his
child, who moreover complained most piteously of the ill-
conduct of Bevil Skelton, as a person whoUy in the interest

of France, against James was vexed
her and her husband.
Avith more con-
the peace of Europe being broken, and was
cerned with his endeavours to prevent France and Spain
from going to war, than apprehensive of invasion from his
'son of Orange'' in profound peace; and again firmly be-
lienng in Mary's solemn affirmations that her husband was
only preparing to repel the hourly expected attack of France,

William, as late as October 3, (n. s.) forces
he actually oflPered
for his aid, if power should break the peace, both by sea
that
and land!' James was sure that the outcries of Bevil Skel-
ton by way of warning, were the mere effects of French
diplomacy, to force him to war against his son-in-law.

While every indication promised full success to the revo-
lution preparing for Great Britain, the peculiar notions of
the prince of Orange relative to queens-regnant, threatened
some disagreement between the two principal persons con-
cerned in the undertaking. In this dilemma. Dr. Burnet
kindly tendered his diplomatic aid, and proceeded to probe
the opinions of the princess regarding the manner in which
she meant to conduct herself towards a regal yoke-fellow.

" The princess," says the instructing divine, " was so new to
all matters of this kind, that she did not, at first, seem to
understand my meaning, but fancied that whatever accrued

to her would go to the prince of Orange in right of mar-
riage. I told her it was not so, and explained Henry VII. 's
title to her, ii\d what had passed when queen Mary married
iliilip of Spain. I told her that a titular kingship was no

acceptable 11* tag for a man, especially if it was to depend on
another's life." The pv "ncess psked Burnet to propose a re-
medy. " I told her tho remedy," he resumes, " if she could
' Albeville's Despatches, dccipliored by Mazure, vol. iii.
158 MAKY II.
bring her mind to it. It was, tp be contented to be his wife
and engage herself to him him the real authority, as

to give
soon as it came into her hands. The princess bade me
* bring the prince to her, and I should hear what she had to
say upon The prince of Orange was that day hunting,

it.'
On the morroAV, I acquainted him with all that passed, and

carried him to her, where she, in a very frank manner, told
- him 'that she did not know' that the laws of England were
so contrary to the laws of God as I had informed her.' She
said, 'that she did not think the husband ever was to be
obedient to the wife,' and she promised him ' that he should
always bear the rule.' " According to other authorities Mary

added " that, as she should gladly obey him, she hoped lie
would also fulfil his part of the marriage contract by loAiii"

her."^ The prince of Orange said not one word in approba-
tion of her conduct, but told Burnet, if that could be dcemod
commendation, " that he had been nine years married to tlie
princess, and never had the confidence to press this matter
which had been brought about so soon." Readers familiar
with the etiquette of courts, will naturally feel surprised that
the princess of Orange should have been reduced to the
necessity of requesting the assistance of Dr. Burnet to ohtain
for her an interview with her august consort, for the purpose
of giving her an opportunity of speaking her mind to him on
this delicate point. On what terms of conjugal companion-
ship could their royal highnesses have been at this momentous
period may reasonably be inquired.
In curious illustration of these alleged passages touching
the conjugal confidences of the Orange pair, is the fact, that
at the very time, and for the former two years, a correspond-
ence was carried on between the princess of Orange and her
sister Anne on the subject of the bitter insults and mortifi-
cations the princess of Orange received daily from her maid,
Elizabeth Villiers. The preference given by the prince of
Orange to his wife's attendant would have been borne in the
» Palin's History of theChurch of En;;knd, from 1688 to I7l7 Riviiigton, :
1851. ThiB learned gentleman's research is likewise borne out by a (•urious

COIltGiTi i^v/* Ui'
«V C,,w.4- TTIofr
AAlOVV^jV
*»»> KJX.VH.fc' i«
\JA. .".in
%/XX\J SflU'tvi"^
«-Jk/VM*i VW^
-fruMvi r»»»l ir
AVAAAAV'Aij ir» -t-uâaîuuinTI (n hlS
royal highness the late duke of Sussex.

MARY II. 159
uncomplaining spirit with which Mary endured all the griev-

ances of her lot, but she could not abide that the shameless
woman should boast of that preference/ and make it public
matter for the world to jeer at, or —
worse far, to pity. Mary
relieved her overburdened heart by relating details of these
mortifications to her sister. The letters have not yet come
to ]iglit; perhaps they have been destroyed, but they are
often mentioned in the des])atehes of ambassadors. Tlie
wrongs described therein raised the indignation of the prin-
cess Anne to a height which led her to the imprudent act of
rating Bentinck, when in England as envoy, for the ill-con-
duct of his sister-in-law, (very probably she approved as
little of the conduct of his wife,) and told him, sharply, " to
cheek the insolence of Elizabeth Villiers to the princess of
Orange." The remonstrance of the princess Anne was duly
reported to her brother-in-law of Orange, and the remem-
brance laid up for a future day, the effects of which Anne
felt after William was on the British throne.
Holland was then full of British exiles, ready to join the

invading expedition of the prince of Orange. Some had fled m
'm
from the bitter persecution which the ministers of '^^.harles II.
4 ^' 1
had established in Scotland ; some from the bursting of the i
various plots which had foinned a chain of agitation i g-

land since the wedlock of William and Mary. The 4u.cn,
her step-mother, continued to mention at times the reports
of invasion, evidently without believing that the actual fact
could take place from such near reh'itives in profound peace.
The last letter that James wrote to the prince of Orange
II.
is friendly, and is " For my son, the prince
directed, as usual,
of Orange." The public reception of family correspondence
at length became a matter either of pain or confusion to the
mind of the princess of Orange. The last lette. -rrtten to
her by her father she would not receive personally, as usual,
from the hands of his envoy, Albeville, but sent for them
privately: they were probably destroyed unread.
The French ambassador, D'Avaux, wrote to his court, that
. T princess of Orange was seen every day, even on the very
U jWukxa. JLrtiOjJih\AyUva, ijuuuvu ujr UA. lua XXÎpUllUlA.
X' ill
*;ite
160 MARY II.
day of the embarkation, in public, with a gay, laughing coun-

tenance. This is not in unison with the statements of two
other eye-witnesses, Burnet and Albeville, nor, indeed, with
probabihty, which is better deserving credit than the evi-
I. i<» lither; for, in case of failure, the risk was tremen-
d-^ s. "I waited on the princess of Orange," says Buruet,
" a few days before we left the Hague. She soomed to have
a great load on her spirits, but to have no scruple as to the
lawfulness of the design. If we got safe
I said to her, that '
to England, T no doubt of our success in other things;'

Tnn«l'»
only I bcggert her pari^n to tell her, ' that if at any time
any misunderstanding was to happen between the prince and
her, it would ruin all.' The princess answered, I need fear '
no such thing for if any persons should attempt that, she

;
would treat them so as to discourage them from venturing it
again.* She was very solemn and serious, and prayed very
earnestly to God to bless and direct us." Dr. Burnet waj
accompanying the prince as spiritual director of the expedi-
tion, which accounts for his emphatic plural "us" in his
narrative. "At Irst," he resumes, "the prince of Orange
went on board, and we all sailed i..i the night oi e 19th of .
'
October, 1688, when directly a great storm arose, d many .
ships were, at the first »larm, believed to be lost, ilie priu-
cess ofOrange behaved herself suitably to what was ( eted
of her She ordered prayers four times a-day, and assisted
at lliem with great devotion." Incredible as it may seem,
prayers wck up in the popish chapels at the

likewise put
H; ûe belt ^'ing to the Spanish and Imperial ambassadors,
for the success of tlie prince of Orange.' It was noticed,
*hat at prayers in the chamber of the princess of Orange, all
mention of the prince of Wales was omitted; likewise she
forbade the collects for her f titer, yet his name was retained
'^
in the L'tan^ _
perhaps accidentally. As the collects are "for
grace/ \d t1 at" God might dispose and govern the heart"
of her litiliet the omission is scarcely consistent with the
piety for whicii Mary is celebrated.

* Barillon's Despatches, Diilrymple's Appendix. Burnet's Own Times.
* AllMiviUe'iJ Despatches.
mm^
MARY II. IGl
The silence of docu. utary history as to tlic scene of tlie
actual parting between William and Mary at the hour of liis
embarkation for England, is partly supplied by one of the

contemporary Dutch paintings connneiiiorative of that event,
lately purchased for her majesty's coUtJction at Ilampton-
Coui't by the commissioners of tlio woods and forests. In the
first of these highly curious tableaux we behold an animated
scene of the preparations for the departure of the prince,
described with all the graphic matter-of-fact circumstances
peculiar to the Dutch school of art, even to the cording and
handling of the liberator's trunks and portmanteaus close to
his feet, while he stands surrounded by tlu; wives of the bur-
gomasters of the Brill and Helvoetsluys, who are affectionately
presenting him with parting benedictions in the shape of part-
ing cups. One f r lady has actually laid her hand on his
highiiess's arm, wlide with the other she offers him a flowing
goblet of scheidam, or some other equally tempting; beverage.
Another low German charmer holds up a deep glass of Rhenish
nectar; others tender schnaps in more moderate-sized glasses.
One of the sympathetic ladies, perhaps of the princess's suite,
1, weeping ostentatiously, with a handkerchief large enough
for a banner. William, meantime, apparently insensible of
these characteristic marks of attention from his loyal country-
women, bends an expressive glance of tender interest upon his
royal consort, English Mary, who has just turned about to
enter her state carriage, which is in waiting for her. Her
face is therefore concealed. The lofty proportions of her
stately figure,which have been somewhat exaggerated by the
distinguish her from the swarm of short,
painter, sufficiently
fat, Dutch Madonas by whom the hero t)f Nassau is sur-
rounded. She wears a high cornette cdp^ long stiff waist

with white satin bodice, scarlet petticoat, range scarf, and (j
farthingale hoop. Her neck is bare, and decorated with a

string of larê round pearls. The carriage is a high, narrow ;i
chariot, paii.ted of a dark green colour, with ornamental
statues at each corner. In form and design it greatly re-

sembles the lord mayor's carriage, only much neater and
IK-
auituicr the wiiiuuw curtains are of a bnght rose eolour.
VOL. vn. M
102 MARY IT.
The embarkation of horses and tru )ps is actively procccdinir,

William's statc-harpje has mounted the royal standird of
Great Britain, Avith the motto, " Prot. Rolijijion and Liberty,"
and the stately first-rate vessel in which he is to pass the
seas, lies in the ofling similarly decorated some of the other

:
vessels have oraiijê flags. The people on the shore aro

throwing up their hats, and drinking success to tlic exjic.
dition. It is, altogether, the representation of a very ani-
mating scene, costume and chariictcristie

full of quaint
details of the manners and customs of William and Mary's
Dutch people.
" Mary wept bitterly when she parted from her husband,"
says Albeville. " She shut herself up afterwards, and woull
not appear on her day of dining publicly at the Hague-
palace."' From the lofty tiirrets of that gothic palace the
tradition declares she watched the fleet depart from the l\r\\\
which was to invade her sire.

Every one knows that the prince of Orange arrived safely
in Torbay on the eve of the anniversary of the Gunpowder- *
plot,' " a remarkable and crowning providence," as one of
the writers of that age observes, " since both of these national
festivities can be conveniently celebrated by the same holi-
day." This day was likewise the anniversary of the marriage

of William of Orange with Mary of England. The prinee
noticed the coincidence with more vivacity than was usual to
him. He
landed at the village of Broxliolme, near Torbay,
November 5. When he perceived that all around was quiet,
and no symptoms of opposition to his landing, he said to Dr,
Burnet, " Ought not I to believe in predestination ?"' It was
then three o'clock in a November afternoon, but he mounted

his horse and went with Schomberg to reconnoitre, or as
Burnet expresses himself, " to discover the country right and
left.'* He marched four miles into Devonshire, and lodged
' Albeville's Despatches.William sailed with a fleet of fifty-two ships of

war, many of thorn merchant ships borrowed by the States, for great had been
tlio havoc made by James II. in the Dutch navy. Notwithstanding tiie loss by
his victory at Solebay, the Dutch admirals hoisted their flags on seventy-gun
ships; there were 400 transports, which carried at least about 15,000 men.
' MS. letter in Frsrch, written by Burnet to one of his friends left 'i^
MARY II. 103
at a little town called Newton ; but itwas ten in the evening

before the whole force arrived there, and then every one was
wet and weary. The next day, about noon, the greatest
landholder in Devonsliire, the ' chevalier '
Courtney, sent his
son to his highness, to pray him to come and sleep at his
seat that night. The prince of Orange went there, and for
an impromptu entertainment, such as this was, it was impos-

sible to be more splendidly regaled." The prince favoured
the Courtney baronet with his company four whole days,
during which time there was no stir to join him. As so
many days elapsed before any of the population of the west
of England showed symptoms of co-operation with the
prince of Orange, a murmur began to be lieard among the
Dutch forces, that they had been betrayed to utter destruc-
tion.' Nevertheless, most of the leading public characters
in England had committed themselves, by written invitations
to the prince of Orange. The mine was ready to explode

but every one waited for somebody to toss the match.
When the first revolt of importance was made, the race

was which should the soonest follow.^
Whilst the trusted friends of king James, persons on whom
he had bestowed many benefits, -were waiting to see who
should be the first to betray him, a noble contrast was
offered by Dr. Ken, bishop of Bath and Wells, one of the
prelates whom he had incarcerated in the Tower for refusal
to comply with his dictation in favour of the Roman-catholics.
The letter subjoined is little known, but it journalizes the
early progress of William in the west of England, and is
valuable in regard to the bishop's allusion to himself as chap-

lain to Several persons who had
the princess of Orange.
affected become Roman-catholics, as a base homage to
to
James II.*s religious principles, had deserted to the prince
of Orange; yet this western bishop stood firm to his loyalty,
although he was no sycophant of James, for unarmed but
with his pastoral staff, he had boldly faced Kirke in his
Holland, probably for the information of the princess, but ostensibly for his wife,
a Dutchwoman. The letter is very yellow, and now cnunbling into fragments.
— Harleian MSS., 6798, art. 49.
'
Diary of lord Clarendon. ' Lord Bartmoutu.
M 2
164 MARY II.
worst moments of drunken rage, and, despite of his furv

comforted tixe unhappy victims in his diocese of the Mon-
mouth rebellion ; therefore every one expected to see bishop
Ken camp of the Orange prince. But tlie
following the
courage and humanity of this deeply revered prelate in 1685
was, if tested by the laws of consistency, the true cause of
his loyalty in 1688. His letter is addressed to a kindred
mind, that of Bancroft, archbishop of Canterbury :
" May it please your Grace,

" Before I could return any answer to the letter with which your grace was
pleased to favour me, I received intelligence that the Dutch were just coming
to Wells ; rpon which I immediately left the town, and in obedience to his
majesty's general commands, took all my coach-hor'X's with me, and as many of
my saddle-horses as I well could, and took shelter in a private village in Wilt.
shire, intending, if his majesty hod come inU my county, to have waited on
him, and paid him my duty. But this morning we are told his majesty lias
gone back to London, so that I only wait till the Dutch have passed my
diocese, and then resolve to return thither again, that being my proper station.
I would not have left the diocese in this juncture, but that the Dutch hiil
seized horses within ten miles of \'''ells, before I went; and your grace knows
that I, having been a servant to tlie princess [of Orange], and well acquainted
with many of the Dutch, I could not have stayed without giving some occasiom
of suspicion, which I thought it most advisable to avoid, resolving, by God's
grace, to continue in a firm loyalty to the king, whom God direct and preserve
in this time of danger ; and I beseech your grace to lay my most humble duty
at his majesty's feet, and to acquaint him witli the cause of my retirhig. Gini
of his intinit* mercy deliver us from the calamities which now threaten us, and
from the sins which have occasioned them.
" My very good Icrd,
" Your grace's very affectionate sv^rvant and bishop,
"November 24, 1688." "Thomas, Bath and Weiis.'
The princess Anne had had an interview with her father on
the 3rd of November, o. s., when he communicated to her the

news that the Dutch fleet had been seen off Dover ; and lie
lent her a copy of the prince of Orange's declaration, which

had been disseminated by him along the roast. The king
was on friendly terms with his younger daughter, nor had
he then the slightest suspicion that the invasion was insti
gated by her. " The same day I waited on the princess
Anne," says her uncle Clarendon, " and she lent me the
declaration of the prince of Orange, telling me ' that the
king had lent it to her, and that she must restore it to him
on the morrow.' " This appears to have been the last inter-
• Life and Works of Bishop Ken, edited by J. T. Sherrard, b.d.

MARY II. 165
coarse between the princess Anne and her father. The decla-
ration Wales
blazoned abroad the slander that the prince of
was an infant impostor, intruded on the nation by king
James, in order that England might fall under the rule of a
prince educated as a Roman-catholic. It may seem unac-

countable wherefore the daughters of James II. adopted a
falsehood which aggravated the needful exclusion of their

father and his unconscious son into personal injury; but it
was the contrivance of their own private ambition, to guard

against Wales being taken iTom
the possibility of the prince of
his parents and educated by the country according to the
doctrines of the church of England, which would have excluded
his sisters eflFectually from the succession they eagerly cove ted. lA
^
Lord Clarendon made a last attempt to touch the feelings
of the princess Anne for her father, November 9th. " I told
her," he writes, " that endeavours were using for the lords
temporal and spiritual to join in an address to the king that;
now would be seasonable to say something to her father,

it
whereby he might see her concern for him.' The princess

replied, '
that the king did not love that she should meddle
with any thing, and that the would let him do
papists
nothing.' I told her * that the king was her father ; that
she knew the duty she owed him ; that she knew how very
tender and kind he had been to her ; and that he had never
troubled her about religion, as she had several times owned
tome. The princess replied, 'that was true;' but she grew
exceedingly uneasy at my discourse, and said ' that she must
dress herself,' and so I left her." ^
The news arrived in London in a few hours, that lord
Combury, the eldest son of the earl of Clarendon, and of
course the first cousin of the princess, had deserted the
king's army, with three regiments. His father, bowed with
grief visits to his niece, who de-
and shame, omitted his
manded, when she saw him, " why he had not come to the
Cockpit lately?" Lord Clarendon replied, " that he was so
much concerned for the villainy his son had committed, that
he was ashamed of being seen anywhere." — " Oh," exclaimed
' Diary of Henry earl of Clarendon.
166 MARY II
the princess^ " people are so apprehensive of popery, that

you will find many more of the army will do the same."
Lord Cornbury's defection was perfectly well known to her*
he was the first gentleman of her husband's bedcliamlier
and by no means troubled with the old-fashioned cavalier
loyalty of his father. His wife, likewise in the household of
the princess, made herself remarkable by dressing herself in
orange colour,' a mode we shall find the princess adopted to
celebrate thefall of her father.
Thus, day by day, has the uncle of the princess Anne left
memorials of his conversations with her r agar din i^ her unfor-
tunate father at this momentous crisis. It was scarcely pes.
sible, if justice did not require it, that her near relative,
Clarendon, could have represented he?.' in the colours he has
done, or prefewed the interests of the son of his brother-in-

law to the daughter of his sister. If lord Clarendon hart
had a bias, it would surely have been to represent the con-
duct of his niece in as favourable a *ght as possible.

I
It is
by no means a pleasant task to follow the windings of a

furtive mind to the goal of undeserved success, attained by
means of
" That low cunning, which in fool? Biipplics—
And amply too, the want of being wise."
Yet be it remembered, that the worst traits which deform
the private character of Anne, are those portrayed in her
own letter.^, and in tîe journals of her mother's brother aud
trusted friends.
At that time the princess Anne was waiting anxiously news
from her husband, who had, in fair-seeming friendship,
departed, in company with her father, to join his army near
Salisbury, with the ostensible purpose of assisting in defend-
ing him from ''

his son, the prince of Orange." The prince
George was to be attended in his by lady Churchill's

flight
husband, the ungrateful favourite of the king, and sir George
Hewett, a gentleman belonging to the household of the
mi'>' princess. There was a dark plot of assassination contrived
against James by these two last agents, which seems as well
• Letter to lady Margaret Russell, from the family papers of liis grace the
duke of Devonshire, copied by permission, July 2, 1846.

MARY II. i6r
authenticated as any point of history, being confessed by

Hewett on his death-bed, amidst agonies of remorse and
horror.
While the husband of the princess Anne was watching his

most feasible time for absconding, he dined and supped at
the table of the king, his father-in-law. Tidings were hourly
brought of some important defection or other from among
the king's officers, on which prince George of Denmark
ustially turned to James II. with a grimace and voice of con-
dolence, uttering one set phrase of surprise, " Est-il possible?"
At last, one Saturday night, November 24th, the prince of
Denmark and George Hewett went off to the hostile camp,
sir
after supping Avith king James, and greatly condemning all
deserters. The king, who had been taken alarmingly ill in

the coiu-se of the last few hours, heard of the desertion of
his son-in-law with the exclamation, " How has ' est-il !
possible' gone off too?''^ Yet the example of his departure

was one of fearful import to the king.
James II. had not the slightest idea but that his heart
might repose on the fidelity of his daughter Anne. When it
is remembered how unswervingly affectionate and faithful
even the infant children of Charles I. had proved, not only
to their father but to each other, in similar times of trial
and distress, his confidence in his daughter cannot excite
surprise. A contemporary^ ha;i preserved the letter which
George of Denmark left for the king on his departure.
" Peince Geoege or Denmaek to James II.
My just concern for that religion in wbicb I have been so happily educated,
"
which my judgment truly convinced via to be the best, and for the support
tliereof I am highly interested in my native country and was not England
;
then become so by the most endearing tie ?"
The prince has made this note a tissue of blunders, con-

founding the church of England with the Lutheran religion,
although essentially different. The biographer of Dr. TiUot-
son claims the composition of this note as one of the good
deeds of that prelate ; it is certain that Dr. Tillotson was not
'The duke of Berwick's evidence, in his Memoirs, against his uncle the duke
of Marlborough, will be allowed to he decisive regarding the truth of this plot.
Eogor Coke, in his Detection, vol. iii. pp. 122, 123. » Ibid.
168 MARY II.
v\ the camp of king James^ but actively employed in Lon-

don. The only comment James II. made, when he read the
note of George of Denmark, was, " I only mind him as con-
nected with my dearest child ; otherwise the loss of a stout
trooper would have been greater.^'' The envoy from Den-

mark was summoned by king James to coimcil on the event
of the flight of prince George from the camp at Andover.
Several parties of horse were sent after the prince to capture
him, and his own countryman, who was no friend to the
revolution, requested "that orders to take him, alive or dead,
might be added to their instructions.^'^ It does not seem
that it was done.
Instant information was despatched to the princess at the
Cockpit, that prince George, lord Churchill, and sir George
Hewett had successfully left the camp of her father. Anne

soon summoned her coadjutors, and prepared for her ovu
flight. She had written the week before to warn the prince
of Orange of her intentions, and had systematically prepared

for her escape, by having had recently constructed a flight
of private which led from her closet down into St,
stairs,
James's-park.^ Lady Churchill had, in the afternoon, sought

a conference with Compton bishop of London, the tutor of
the princess; he had withdrawn, but left a letter advertising
where he was to be found, in case the princess wished to
leave her father. The bishop and the ex-lord chamberlain,
lord Dorset, sent word that they would wait in St. James's-
park with a hackney-coach, at one o'clock in the morning of
November the 25th; and that if the princess could steal
unobserved out of the Cockpit, they would take charge of
her.
• Coke's D: cfction, vol. ii:.
pp. 122, 3. Prince George and Chnrchill hiid vainly
endeavoured to carry oft" with them a portion of the army ; the connnon sokdcrs
and non-commissioned officers j>ositivcly refused to forsake their king. General
Schomherg, who was second in connnand to the prince of Orange, and was as
much a man of honour and honesty as a mercenary soldier can he, received the
deserters from James II. with a sarcasm so cutting, that lord Churcliill never
forgot it. " Sir," said Schomherg to him, " you are the first deserter of tlie
rank of a lieutenant-general I ever saw." — Stuart Papers, edited hy ilacplierson,
* Lediard's Life of Marlhorough, vol. i. p. 81.

* Lord Dai'tmouth's Notes.
MARY II. 169
It is stated that the lord chamberlain Mulgrave had orders

to arrest the ladies Churchill and Fitzharding, but that the
princess Anne had entreated the queen to delay this measure
until the king's return, — an incident which marks the fact,
thatAnne was on apparently friendly terms with her step-

mother. Meantime, a manuscript letter among the family
papers of his grace the duke of Devonshire, affirms that the
king had ordered the princess herself to be arrested ; if this
had been true, he could not have been surprised at her flight.
Tlie facts, gathered from several contemporary sources, were

as follows. The princess Anne retired to her chamber on
Sunday evening at her usual hour ; her lady in waiting, Mrs.
Danvers, who was not in the plot, went to bed in the ante-
chamber, according to custom. Lady Fitzharding, at that
time the principal lady of the bedchamber to the princess
Anne, being sister to the mistress of the prince of Orange,
was, of course, an active agent in the intrigue; this lady,
Mith lady Churchill, came up the newly constructed back-
stairs unknown to the rest of the household, and there wait-
ed the hour of appointment perdue with lady Churchill's

maid. When one o'clock struck, the princess stole down
into the park with these women, and close to the Cockpit
she met her auxiliary, lord Dorset. The night was dark
it poured with torrents of rain, and St. James's-park was a
mass of black November mud. The adventurers had not
very far to walk to the hackney-coach, but the princess, who
had not equipped herself for pedestrian exigencies, soon lost
one of her fine high-heeled shoes inextricably in the mud.
She was, however, in the highest spirits, and not disposed to
be daunted by trifles. She hop forward with one
tried to
shot, hut lord Dorset, fearing that she would take cold, pull-
ed off his embroidered leather glove, (which was of tlie long

gauntlet fashion,) and begged her royal highness to permit
him to draw it on her foot, as some defence against the wet.
This was done, amidst peals of laughter and many jokes
from the whole party, and, partly hopping and partly carried
by lord Dorset, the princess gained the .pot where the
bishop waited for them in the hackney-coach. The whole
*^-
170 MARY II.
party then drove to the bishop of London's house by St.
Paul's, where they were refreshed, and went from thence, be-
fore day-break, to lord Dorset's scat, Copt-hall, in Waltlmm
forest. The princess only made a stay there of a few hours
and then, with the bishop, lord Dorset, and her two ladies
set out for Nottingham, where they were received by the
earl of Northampton, the brother of the bishop of London.
That prelate assumed a military dress tind a pair of jack-
boots, and raising a purple standard in the name of the laws
and liberties of England, invited the people to gather round
the Protestant heiress to the throne.'
The proceedings of the princess after her retreat, are re-
lated by an eye-witness, lord Chesterfield. Of all the contem-
poraries of James IL, he was the least likely to be preju-
diced in his favour. He had been brought up from infancy
in companionship with the prurce of Orange, his mother,
lady Stanhope, being governess to the prince at the Hague.
Moreover, Chesterfield iiad not forgotten his angry resent-
ment at the coquetries of his second wife with James IL,
when duke of York. The earl was, besides, a firm opposer
of popery, and an attached son of the reformed church.
Every early prejudice, every personal interest, every natural
resentment, led him to favour the cause of the prince of
Orange. He was a deep and acute observer ; he had known

the princess Anne from her infancy, being chamberlain to
her aunt, queen Catharine. Anne's proceedings after her
fliglit from Whitehall are here given in lord Chesterfield's
words '} " The princess Anne made her escape in disguise
from Whitehall, and came to Nottingham, pretending that '
her father the king did persecute and use her ill for her
religion, she being a protestant and he a papist.' As soon
as I heard of her coming with a small retinue to Notting-
ham, I went tliither with the lord Ferrers, and several
gentlemen my neighbours, to offer her my services. The
princess seemed to be well pleased she told m>^, that she
;
'
* Aubrey. Lecliard's Life of Marllwrougli, vol. i. Colley Gibber, and Lam-

berty, wbo was Bentinek.
st'cretury to
* Memoir of second earl of Chesterfield, from his autogrnr'i P^Frs
Philii,,
found in the library at By th-housc, published w itli his letters ; pp. 48-50.
MARY II. 171
intended to go to Warwick, but she apprehended that lord

Mullinux, who was a papist, and then in arms, would attack
her on her journey.* I assured her highness ' that I would
wait upon her till she was in a state of safety.* I left her,
and returned to Nottingham in two days at the head of a
hundred horse, with which she seemed to be much satisfied.
I met at Nottingham the Northampton,

earls of Devonshii'e,
and Scarsdale, lord Gray, the bishop of London, and many
others, who had brought in 600 horse, and raised the militia
of the country to attend her highness. The next day, her
highness told me, *That there were many disputes and
quarrels among the young nobility around her; therefore,
to prevent disorders in the marching of her troops about
precedence, she had appointed a council to meet that day,

and me to be of it.* I replied, that ' I was come on pur-
pose to defend her person, in a time of tumult, with my
life, against any that should dare to attack her ; but that
as to her council, I did beg her pardon for desiring to be
excused from it, for I had the honour to be a privy coun-

cillor to his majesty her father; therefore I would be of
no council for the ordering of troops which I did perceive
were intended to serve against him.* I found that her
highness and some of the noblemen round her were highly
displeased with my answer, which they called a ' tacit * up-
braiding them and the princess with rebellion.**

The princess Anne was, nevertheless, escorted by Chester-
field from Nottingham to Leicester; but here he found a
project on foot, which completed his disgust of the proceed-
ings of " the daughter.** It was, in fact, no other than the

revival of the old ' Association,* which had, about a century I
,1;
before, hunted Mary queen of Scots to a scaffold. If Eliza-

beth, a kinswoman some degrees removed from Mary queen
of Scots, but who had never seen her, has met with repre-
hension from the lovers of moral justice for her encoui'age-

ment of such a league, what can be thought of the heart
of a child, a favoured and beloved daughter, who had fled
from the very arms of her father to join it ? "I waited

on her highness the princess Anne to Leicester,** resumes
173 MARY II.
Chesterfield.'" Next morning, at court, in the flraTvin;;.

room, which was filled with noblemen and gentlennii, the
bishop of London called me aloud by my name ; he said,
'that the princess Anne drsired us to meet at four o'clock
the same afternoonsit an iiin in Leicester, which he named,
to do something which was for her service.' " Chesterfield
expressed his displeasure at the manner in which he was

publicly called upon, without any previous intimation of the
matter j " upon Vv hich, lord Devonshire, who stood oy, ob-
sensed, ' that he thought lord Chesterfield had been pre-
viously acquainted that the purpose of the princess was, to
have an association entered into to destroy all the papists in

England, in case the prince of Orange should be killed or
murthered by any of them.' "
An association for the purpose of extermination is always
an ugly blot in history. Many times have the Roniap-
catholics been charged with such leagues, and it is indis-
putable that they were more than once guilty of carrjdng

them into ferocious execution. But the idea that the
father of the princess Anne was one of the proscribed

religion, and that she could be enrolled as the chief of an
association for extermination of those among whom he was
included, is a trait sui"passiug the polemic horrors of the
sixteenth century. May be excused under

this terrible fact
the plea of the stupidity of Anne, and her utter incapacity
for reasoning from cause to efffect ? Could she not perceive
that her father's head would have been the first to be laid
low by such an association ? If she did not, lord Chester-
field did. " I would not enter Into it," he continues, 2 nor li
sign the paper the bishop of London had drawn ; and after
my refusing, lord Ferrers, lord CuUen, and above a hun-
dred gentlemen refused to sign this association, which made
the princess Anne extremely angry. However, I kept my
promise with hoi- liighnes-;, and waited on her from Leices-
ter to Coventry, and from thence to Warwick."
' Memoir of Philip, second earl of Chcsterfiild, from his autograph papers,
Bath-house, published with his lettersj pp. 48-50.

^ Ibid.
MAKY II. 173
Such was the errand on which Anne had left her home
let U3 now see what was going on in tliat home. Great
was the consternation of her household at the Cockpit on
themorning of November 26, wlien two hours had elapsed
beyond her ..al time of ringing for her attendants. Her
women and Danvers having vainly knocked and called
iVL's.
at had it forced. When they entered, they

her door, at last
found the bed open, with the impression as if it had been
slept in. Old Mrs. Buss, the nurse' of the princess, im-
mediately cried oat " that the princess had been murdered
by the queen's priests," and the whole party ran screaming
to lady Dartmouth's apartments some went to lord Cla-

:
rendon's apartments with the news. As lady Clarendon

did not know the abusive names by which her niece and
lady Chm'chill used to revile her, she threw herself into an
agony of affectionate despair. While Mrs. Buss rushed into
the queen's presence, and rudelj' demandod the princess
Anne of her majesty, lady Clarendon ran about lamenting

for her all over the court. This uproar Avas appeased by a
letter, addressed to the queen, being found open on the
toilet of the princess. It was never brought to the queen;*

yet its discovery somewhat allayed the storm which sud-
denly raged around her, for a fuiious mob had collected in
the streets, vo\ lUg that Whitehall should be plucked down,
and the queen torn to pi' v^s, if she did not give up the
princess Anne. The lettei ^vas published in the Gazette
next day by the partisans of Anne. It has been infinitely
admired by those who have never compared it with the one
she wrote to the prince of Orange on the same subject :
"THE Peincess Anne of Denmaek to the Queen of James II.
"Madam, (Found Nov. 20.)

at the Cockpit,
" I bog your pardon if I am so 'leeply affected v'ith the surprising news of
the prince's [George of Denmark] tjeinc/ gone as not to he able to see you, but
to leave tliis paper to express my humble duty to the king and yourself, and to
_._ I
'
Lord Dartmouth's Notes. Anne's niu'se was a papist, as Dr. Lake affirms
perhaps she had been converted.
Mcuiou-s of James II., edited by tlie rev. Stanier Clark. The king men-
tions this letter, but declares neither he uor the queen ever saw it, except in the
public prints. Dr. Stanier Clark prints the name of Anne's nurse as Buss
Lewis Jeukuis, one of her fellow-servants, calb her Butt,
17 MARY II.
letyou know that I am gone to ahsent nt'/self to avoid tl- <.ing'» dinpUunri'
which I am not able to bear, either again.it the prince or mgaelf; mv' [ ^\^^\\
H^'iy at 8() nfrt'iit n distance, as not ') return till I htiir the hiippy .i-wsofa
reconcilement. And a« 1 am confidei;t the prince did not luvvo tlic king «ith
any other design than to use all i«)f means for his preservatidn, so hop,,
'i
1
you will do me the justice to l)eliev t'li I am uncapahle of followiiijj; him tor
any other end. Never was any one in such an unhappy condition, no diHdKl
between duty to a father and a husband ; and therefore I know not wh^t I
must do, Lilt to follow one to jjreserve the other.

" I see the general falling-oft' of the nohility and genti-y, who avow to
huve
no other end than to prevail with the king to secure their religion, wliidi tky
saw so much in danger fr(nn the violent councils of the priests, who, io promote
their own religion, did not care to what dangers they exposed the kinjif. I tim
fully persuaded that the prince r f Orange designs the king's safety and prestr-
vation, and hope all things may bo composed without bloodshed, by the culling
of a parliament.
" God grant an happy end to these troubles, and that the king's [.lames II.]
reign may be prosperous, and that I may shortly meet you in perfect pence ami
safety ; till when, let me beg of you to continue the same favourable opinion
that you have liitherto had of
" Your most obedient daughter and servant,
" Anns."'
One historian chooses to say that Anne had been beaten ly

her step-mother previously to the composition of this letter.
Yet immediately beneath his assertion he quotes its conclu-
sion, being an entreaty to the queen,'^ ending with this sen-
tence, " let me beg of you to continue the same favourable
opinion that you have hitherto had of your obedient daughter
and servant, Anne." Now, people seldom express favoural)lc
opinions of those whom they beat, and still seldomer do the
beaten persons wish those who beat them to continue in the
same way of thinking concerning themselves.

It is a curious fact, that the princess Anne should ^vîte
two letters on the same subject, entirely opposite in profes-
sion, convicting herself of shameless falsehood, and tliat they
should both be preserved for the elucidation of the writer's
real disposition :
"THE Pbincess Anne to the Peinoe of Obange.

" The Cockpit, November 18.
" Having on all you and my sister all imaginable assurances
occasions given
of the real friendship and kindness I have for you both, I hope it is not neces-
sary for me to repeat any thing of that kind j and on the subject you h.^ve now
' Lansdowne Papers, No, 1236, fol. 230, apparently the original, as it is
endorsed with the name, Anne, in Italic capitals, very much resembling her own
autograph. The paper is very old and yellow ii has never been folded. :
« Echard, 920, vol. iii.

MARY II. 175
wrote to me, I sl'ftll "f>t trouble yon with many ooinpliim -its, only, in short, to
assure you that you have m
wishon for your tfootl siiccesH in this ho jiwt tin
unilirtiikiiig J uml /
hope the pnnce^ unll soon be with you, to let you see his
readiness to join with you, who, I am sun will do you all the service that
.
lies in his power. Hewent yesterday tvith the kiny towards Salisbury,
inkndiiil to yo from thence /o you as soon as his friends thoiiyht proper. I
Bill nut yi't certain if I shall continuo hero, "r rerrove into the city. That shall
dciHiiil uiMm the advieo my frifiids will ve me , but whuruvor I am, 1 shall bo
riiidy to show you how much 1 um
" Your humble servant,
"Anne."»
A report prevailed nn on *pi. in excuse for Anne's
conduct, that her father id )r(lcr8 to arrest her and
send her to the Tower e.\ .ti3 day,"' l)ut this plea
she dared not urge for hei.ci nay seen in her farewell
,;^;
letter. By the perusal of tin ^-iiuoted letter, wliieh was

TOtten before the one addressed t' ) the queen, all the senti-
ments of conflieting duties, of ignorance and innocence
regarding her husband's intention of departure, are utterly
exploded. As for any tenderness regarding the safety of
her unfortunate father, or pretended mediation between him
and ihe prince ofOrange, a glance over tlie genuine emana-
tion of her mind Avill show that she never alluded to king
James excepting to aggravate his faults. So far from the

desertion of the prince of Denmark being unknown to her,
it was announced by her own pen several days before it took
place. It would have been infinitely more respectable, had
tliu prince and princess of Denmark pursued the path they
deemed most conducive to their interests without any gri-
mace of sentiment. As for profaning the church of Eng-
land for one moment, by assuming that devotion to its prin-
ciples inspired the tissue of foul falsehood which polluted
tlie mind of the princess Anne, it is what we do not intend
* Her husband, George of Denmark.
In king William's box at Kensington
"
; found there and published by sir
Joim Dalrymple, Appendix, p. 333.
' Contemporary letter, endorsed "To
the lady Margaret Russell, Woburni
abbey, (Woburn bag,)" among family papers of
his grace the duke of Devon-
copied, by kind permission, July 2, 1846,
sliire,
In the course of this MS. the
writer affirms, that "previously to the escape of the prince and princess of
Denmark, lord Feversham had been on his knees two hours entreating the king
to arrest lord Churchill
j but the king would not believe any thing against
liim."
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Sciences (716) 872-4503
Corporation
176 MARY II.
to do. The conduct of those who were the true and real
disciples of our church
soon be shown, though
will l strait
and narrow path they trod, which led not to this world's
honours and prosperity.
James II. arrived in London soon after the uproar regard-
ing the departure of his daughter had subsided. He was
extremely ill, having been bled four times in the course of
the three preceding days, which was the real reason of his
leaving the army.* He

expected to be consoled by some
very extraordinary manifestation of duty and affection from
the princess Anne, and when he heard the particulars of her
desertion, he struck his breast, and exclaimed, " God help
me ! my own children have forsaken me in my distress."
he expressed the utmost anxiety lest his daughter,

Still
whose state he supposed was precarious, should in any way

injure herself. From that hour, James II. lost all hope ij
interest in his struggle for regality. His mind was over-

'
.!
thrown.2 In fact, civil wars have taken place between kins.

men, brothers, nephews, and uncles, and even between fa-
thers and sons ; but history produces only two other instances
of warfare between daughters and fathers, and of those in-
stances many a bitter comparison was afterwards drawn.
James himself was not aware how deeply his daughter Anne
was concerned in all the conspiracies against him ; he lived
and died utterly unconscious of the foul letters she wrote to
her sister, or of that to the prince of Orange, announcing to
him her husband^s flight. He expresses his firm belief that
she acted under the control of her husband,' and by the
persuasions of lady Churchill and lady Berkeley. With the
fond delusion often seen in parents in middle life, he speaks

of the personal danger she incurred regarding her health in
her flight from the Cockpit, as if it were almost the worst
part of her conduct to him.*
The prince of Orange moved forward from the west of
England, giving out that it 'âs his intention to prove a
' See the Life of bis consort, queen Mary Beatrice.

' Ibid., vol. vi. p. 261. ' Dalrymple's Appendix.
* Original Papers, edited by Macpherson. Likewise Roger Coke's Detection,

vol. iii. p. 123. Diary of lord Clarendon, vol. ii. p. 216.
MARY II. 177
mediator between James II. and his people, and thus in-
ducing many of the most loyal subjects of the crown to
join him for that purpose.Lord Clarendon, his wife's
uncle, met him at Salisbury, where his head-quarters were,
in Jiopes of assisting at an amicable arrangement. Prince
George of Denmark was still with the Dutch army to him :
lord Clarendon instantly went. The prince asked him news

James II., and then " when his princess went away ? and
of
who went with her?"^

—"Of which," says lord Clarendon,
"I gave him an account as I could." Prince
as particular
George said, " I wonder she went not sooner." Lord Cla-
rendon observed, " that he wished her journey might do her
no harm." Every one supposed that the princess Anne was
within a few weeks of her accouchement. The next reply
of the prince convinced him that this was really a deception,
although constantly pleaded in excuse to her father when he

had required her presence at the birth of the prince of
Wales, or any ceremonial regarding the queen. The prin-
cess Anne had actually herself practised a fraud nearly simi-
lar to that of which she falsely accused her unfortunate

step-mother. That accusation must have originated in the
capabihty for imposition which she found in her own mind.
Her uncle was struck with horror when her husband told ijM
him that the princess had not been in any state requiring
particular care. His words are, " This startled me. Good
God nothing but lying and dissimulation.
! I then told him
'with what tenderness the king had spoken of the princess
,
Anne, and how much trouble of hfiart he showed when she
found that she had left him ;' but to this, prince George of
Denmark answered not one word."'^
The prince of Orange advanced from Salisbury to Oxford,
and rested at Abingdon, and at Henley-on-Thames received
the news that James II. had disbanded his army; and also
that the queen ^ had escaped with the prince of Wales to
France, and that king James II. had departed, December 11,
» Diary of lord Clarendon, vol. ii. p. 216.

« Ibid.
* For these particulars, see Life of Mary Beatrice of Modena.
VOL. VII. N
178 MARY II.
a few days afterwards, at which the prince of Orange could

not conceal his joy. The prince of Denmark remained in
Oxford to receive the princess his wife, who made a grand
entry with military state, escorted by several thousand
mounted gentlemen, who, with their tenants, had mustered
in the mid-counties to attend her. Compton bishop of Lon-
don, her tutor, had for some days resumed his old dress and
occupation of a military leader, and rode before her with his
purple flag.^ The princess Anne and her consort remained
some days at Oxford, greatly feasted and caressed by their
party.
Meantime, the prince of Orange approached the metro.
polls no nearer than Windsor, for the unfortunate James
II. had been brought back to Whitehall. The joy mani-
fested by him once more, alarmed his
his people at seeing
opponents. The prince of Orange had moved forward to
Sion-house, Brentford, from whence he despatched his Dutch
guards to expel his uncle from Whitehall. It seems, neither
Anne nor his sons-in-law cared to enter the presence of
James and they would not approach the metropohs

again,
till he had been forced out of it. The next day, the prince
of Orange made his entry into London without pomp, in a
travelling-carriage drawn by post-horses, with a cloak-hag
strapped at the back of it.'^ He arrived at St. James's-palace
about four in the a ôon, and retired at once to his hed-
chamber. BeDs were rang, guns were fired, and his party
manifested their joy at his arrival, as the Jacobites had done
when the king returned. The prince and princess of Den-

mark arrived on the evening of the 19th of December from
Oxford, and took up their abode as usual at the Cockpit.*

' Aubrey.
* MS. inedited Stepney Papers ; Horace Walpole the elder, to his
letter of
brother Robert Walpole. The worils are worth quoting. Wlicn Stanhope,
sir
the English ambassador from queen Anne, was urging the reluctant Charles
of Austria to press on to Madrid and seize the Spanish crown, after one of
Peterborough's brilliant victories, " the German prince excused himself, because
bis equipages were not ready. Stanhope replied, ' The prince of Orange entered
London, in 1688, with a coach and four, and a cloak-bag tied behind it, and a
few weeks after was crowned king of Great Britain.'
* Clarendon's Diary, vol. ii. p. 231.
MARY II. 179
No leave-taking ever passed between the princess Anne

and her unfortunate father; they had had their last meet-
ing in this world, spoken their last words, and looked upon
each other for the last time, before his reverse of fortune
No effort did Anne make, cherished and indulg- ri'i
occurred.
ed as had ever been, to see her father ere he went forth

she
for ever.
into exile Yet there bad never arisen the slightest
disagreement between them, no angry chiding regarding
their separate creeds; no offence had ever been given her
but the Had she taken
existence of her hapless brother.
the from the public eye while he
neutral part of retirement
was yet in England, —
ill, unhappy, and a prisoner, her con-
duct could not have drawn down the contemptuous comment

which it did from an eye-witness " King James was carried
:
down the river in a most tempestuous evening, not without

actual danger ; and while her poor old father was thus ex-
to danger, an actual prisoner under a guard of Dutch-

men, at that very moment his daughtejf the princess Anne
of Denmark, with her great favourite^^âdy Churchill, both
covered with orange ribboniL went^nV'one of his coaches,
attended by his guards, triraaphantô the playhouse." It '
was on the same stormy night that James II. escaped from
the Dutch guards, and withdrew to France.'^
The conduct of the princess Anne at this crisis is recorded

with utter indignation by her church-of-England uncle,
Clarendon. " In the afternoon of January the 17th, I was
with the princess Anne. I took the liberty to tell her that
many good people were extremely troubled to find that she
seemed no more concerned for her father's misfortunes. It
was noticed that, when the news came of his final departure
from the country, she was not the least moved, but called for
cards, and was as merry as she used to be." To this Anne
replied, " Those who made such reflections on her actions
' Bevil Higgon's Short Views of English History, p. 363. The Devonshire
MS. previously quoted confirms the fact, that the ladies in the household of
Anne at that time wore orange colour as a party -badge. Anne herself, in her '
?3
picture at the Temple, is dressed in orange and green, the colours of her brother-
in-law's livery.
* See Life of his consort, Mary Beatrice.
N 2
' I ,'
180 MARY II.
did her wrong ; but it was true that she did call for cards
then, because she was accustomed to play, and that she never
loved to do any thing that looked like an affected constraint."
''And does your royal highness think that showing some
trouble for the king your father's misfortunes could be inter-
preted as an affected constraint?" was the stern rejoinder
from her uncle. " I am afraid," he continued, " such beha-
viour lessens you much in the opinion of the world, and even
in that of your father's enemies. But," adds he, m com-
ment, "with all this, she was not one jot moved.*'' Cla-
rendon demanded whether she had shown his letter, written
to her in his grief on his son's desertion from her father.
The princess said, " No; she had burnt it as soon as read."
But her uncle pressed the matter home to her, " because/'
he said, " the contents were matter of public discourse."
The princess replied, " She had shown the letter to no on'5;
but she could not imagine where was the harm, if she had."
" I am still of the same opinion as when it was written,"
observed her uncle. " I think that my son has done a very
abominable action, even if it be viewed but as a breach of
trust ; but if your royal highness repeats all that is said or
written to you, few people will tell you any thing."'' The
princess turned the discourse with complaining " That his
son never waited on prince George, which was more neces-
sary now than ever, since the prince had no one but him of
quality about him; that she had reproved lord Combury her-
self, but he took so little heed of it, that at one time she
thought of desiring him to march off, and leave room for

somebody else; but that, as it was at a time that the family
• Clarendon Diary, vol. ii. pp. 249-251.

• The regiments said to desertwith Combury, according to Bumefs MS,
let!«r, (Harleian, 6798,) were three ; one of them, the dragoons commanded by
lord Combury, another was Berwick's regiment, late the earl of Oxford's, and
the 'third the duke of St. Albans*. " Lord Combmy marched them off to the
prince of Orange's camp ; but when day dawned, and the officers and their men
perceived where their steps Erected, they cried aloud and halted, putting all into
complete confusion." These officers. Dr. Burnet declared, "were papists;" but
whatsoever they were, they drew off half Cornbury's own regiment, chief part
of St, Albans', and all Berwick's but fifty horsemen, and turned back t» king
James under liie command of Cornbury's nuôr.
. f.'
MABY II. 181
oppressed, she had no mind to do a hard thing.''
The oppression she meant was, when James II. had dismissed
Clarendon and her other uncle from their employments, on
account of their attachment to the church of England. Her
uncle drily returned thanks for her gracious intimation,
observing,
" That his son, though he often complained of
hardship put upon him, was to blame for neglecting his duty."
The princess stated
" That the prince, her husband, was at a
great loss forsome person of quality about him ; that he had
thoughts of taking lord Scarsdale again, but that he proved
80 pitiful a wretch, that they would have no more to do with
him."
— " I asked," said lord Clarendon, " whom he thought
to take?" The princess said, "sir George Hewett." Cla-
rendon observed to the princess Anne, that " sir George
was no nobleman. ' He might be made one when things

' and she hoped such a thing
are settled,' said the princess,
would not be denied to the prince her husband and her.' I

asked her * how that could be done without king James?'
'
Sure,' replied the princess Anne, ' there will be a way found
out at one time or other.'

" ' Sir George Hewett, it will be
remembered, was the man who had deserted with lord
Churchill, and was implicated in the scheme for either
seizing or assassinating the king, her father. Lord Cla-

im
rendon, when he visited the Dutch head-quarters, had
bluntly asked lord Churchill " whether it was a fact?" who,
with his usual graceful and urbane manner, and in that
peculiar intonation of voice which his contemporary, lord
Dartmouth, aptly describes as soft and whining, pronounced

himself " the most ungrateful of mortals, if he could have
perpetrated aught against his benefactor, king James."
A convention of the lords and some of the members who
had been returned in the last parliament of Charles II. were
then on the point of meeting, to settle the government of the
kingdom. In this convention Bancroft, the archbishop of
Canterbury, positively refused to sit, or to acknowledge its
jurisdiction. The earl of Clarendon was anxious to discuss

with the princess Anne the flying reports of the town, which
> Clarendon Diary, vol. ii. pp. 250, 251.

182 MARY IT.
f' I- declared " that the intention was to settle the crown on the
prince of Orange and his wife; but that in case the latter
ac
died first, leaving no issue, the crown was to belong to him
for his life, before it descended, in the natural succession, to
the princess Anne and her children." Clarendon was indie

nant at this proposed innovation on the hereditary monarchy
of the British government, and endeavoured to rouse the
princess Anne to prevent any interpolation between her and
her rights of succession. To which she replied, " That she
had heard the rumours that the prince and princess of
Orange were to be crowned, but she was sure she had never
given no occasion to have it said that she consented to any
such a thing; that she had indeed been told that Dr. Bur-
net should talk of it, but she would never consent to any
thing that should be to the prejudice of herself or her chil-
dren." She added, " that she knew very well that the
republican party were very busy, but that she hoped that
the honest party would be most prevalent in the conven-

tion, and not suffer wrong to be done to her." Clarendon
told the princess, " That if she continued in the mind she
seemed to be in, she ought to let her wishes be kno^Ti to

some of both houses before the meeting of the convention."
Anne replied " she would think of it, and send for some of
them."' Her uncle then turned upon her with a close
home question, whichwas " whether she thought that her

father could be justly deposed?" To this the princess Anne
replied, " Sure they are too great points for me to meddle
!
with. I am sorry the king brought things to such a pass as
they were at ;" adding, " that she thought it would not he
safe for him ever Her uncle asked her
to return again."
fiercely the question, "What
meant by that?" To
she
which Anne replied, " Nothing."'^ Without repeating seve-
ral characteristic dialogues of this nature, which her uncle
has recorded, the princess Anne and her spouse entrusted
him with a sort of commission to watch over her interests in
the proceedings of the convention. The princess likewise
penned a long letter of lamentations to her uncle on the
.» Clarendon's Diary, vol. u. pp. 250, 251. « Ibid., pp. 248, 249.
MARY II. 183
\rron«'8 she found that the convention meant to perpetrate

against her: she, however, bade him bum the letter.
The postponement of succession to the prince of Orange
(supposing the prince of Wales was for ever excluded) en-
croached not much on the tenderness due to that internal

idol, self. Very improbable it was that a diminutive asth-
matic invahd, like the prince of Orange, irrepressibly bent
on war, ten years of age in advance, withal, should survive
her majestic sister, who had, since she had been acclimatized
to the air of Holland, enjoyed a buxom state of health.
There was, nevertheless, a tissue of vacillating diplomacy
attempted by Anne : she used a great deal of needless false-
hood in denial of the letter she had written to her uncle
when she supposed he had burnt it, and resorted to equi-
vocation when he produced it, to the confusion of herself
and her clique.^ As some shelter from the awfiil respon-

sibility perpetually represented to her by her uncle, Anne
at last declared
" she would be guided regarding her con-
duct by some very pious friends, and abide by their de-
cision." The friends to whom she appealed were Dr. Til-

lotson, and Rachel lady Russell.'* Their opinion was well "
-îl
known to the princess before it was asked. Dr. Tillotson

had been an enemy to James II. from an early period of his
career, and had been very active in promoting the revolu-
tion; as for lady Russell, it was no duty of hers to awaken
in the mind of Anne any affectionate feeling to James II.
Both referees arbitrated according Xc- (he benefit of their

party, and advised Anne to give place to her brother-in-law
in the succession.
Although the princess Anne had thus made up her mind,
the national convention were far from resolved. The situa-
tion of the country was rather startling, the leader of a well-
discipUned army of 14,000 foreign soldiers, quartered in or
about London, being actually in possession of the functions
of government. When the convention had excluded the
unconscious heir, it by no means imagined a necessity for
• Clarendon's Diary, vol. ii. pp. 255, 257.
a Birch's Life of Dr. Tillotson.

184 MART IT.
further innovating on the succession by superseding the

daughters of James II., who had not offended them by the
adoption of an obnoxious creed ; and well did the clergy of
the church of England know that the creed of the prince of
Orange was as inconsistent with their church as that of

James II. Besides that discrepancy, his personal hatred to
the rites of our church has been shown by Dr. Hooper, who
has, moreover, recorded the vigorous kick he bestowed on
the communion-table prepared in the chapel of his princess.
Some of the members of the convention were startled at the

I fearful evils attendant on a crown-elective, which, as the
i- \
history of Poland and the German empire fully proved, not

only opened doors, but flood-gates to corruption. When
they subsequently sought the line of Hanoverian princes as
their future sovereigns, the English parliament recognised
the hereditary principle, by awarding the crown to the nert
lineal heir willing toconform with and protect the national
religion; but when they gave the crown to Wilham lU
they repudiated two heiresses who were already of the esta-
blished church, and thus rendered, for some years, the crown
of Great Britain elective. Before this arrangement was con-
cluded, the princess Anne began to feel regret for the course
she had pursued. Lord Scarsdale, who was then in her
household, heard her say at this juncture, "Now am I

sensible of the error I committed in leaving my father and
making myself of a party with the prince, who puts by my
1
right."
The day the throne was declared vacant by the convention
of parliament, sir Isaac Newton (then Mr. Isaac Newton)
was visiting archbishop Sancroft what feeling the great ;
astronomer expressed at the news is not recorded, but the

archbishop showed deep concern, and hoped proper attention
would be paid to the claims of the infant prince of Wales,
saying " that his identity might be easily proved, as he had a
mole on his neck at his birth." Perhaps king William was
not pleased with the visit of Newton to Lambeth at this
• Ralph's History, vol. ii. p. 44. Lord Scarsdale repeated this speech to
Ralph.
n
'
MARY II. 185
crisis, since a tradition is afloat on the sea of anecdotes, that

gome of his council wishing him to consult Isaac Newton on
a point of difliculty, the king replied, " Pooh he is only a
!
philosopher: what can he know?"' The demeanour of

William of Orange at this juncture was perfectly inexplicable
to the Reserved as
English oligarchy sitting in convention.
William ever was to his he was wrapped in tenfold
princess,
gloom and taciturnity when absent from her. The English

magnates could not gather the slightest intimation of his
mind whilst he was wrapped in this imperturbable fit of sul-
lenness. They applied to the Dutchmen to know what ailed
their master, and from Fagel and Zulestein they gathered
that his highness was afflicted with an access of political
>\
jealousy of his submissive partner, whom the convention
considered queen-regnant, for his reply was, "that he did
not choose to be gentleman-usher to his own wife."
On the annunciation of this gracious response, the English
oligarchy returned to reconsider their verdict. Some deemed
that the introduction of a foreigner, the ruler of a country
the most inimical to the English naval power, and to the
mighty colonies and trading factories newly planted by
James II. in every quarter of the world, was a bitter alter-
native on them by the perverse persistance of their
forced
monarch in his unfortunate religion; but they were by no
means inclined to disinherit Mary, the Protestant heiress,
and render their monarchy elective by giving her husband
the preference to her. There was a private consultation on
the subject held at the apartments of William Herbert, at
St. James's-palace. William's favourite Dutchmen were ad-
mitted to this conclave, which was held round Herbert's bed,
he being then confined with a violent fit of the gout. Ben-
tinck then and there deliberately averred, that it was best
only to allow the princess Mary to take the rank of queen-
consort, and not of queen-regnant. When the gouty patient

heard this opinion, he became so excessively excited, that,
! '^-n
:
forgetting his lameness, he leaped out of bed, and, seizing

his sword, exclaimed, that "If the prince of Orange was
Birch's Life of Tillotson.

' « Burnet's Own Times.
I
186 MARY ir.
capable of such conduct to his wife, ho wouhl never draw

that for him afâin!"" The Dutch favourite carried the in.
cident to hia master, who was forthwith phmged still docper
in splenetic gloom. When he at last spoke, after a space of
several days of profound taciturnity, he made a solilotpiv In
Dutch to this purport, that " lie

was tired of the Kn;,'liiili.
He would go back to Holland, and leave their crown to
whosoever could catcrh it." After he iuul thus spoken, Wil-
liam of Orange relapsed into silence. The revolution seemed
at a stand. Whilst he remains in this ungracious state of
temper, which, to the consternation of the English oligurdiy
lasted some weeks, Ave will take wing to Holland, and gather
some intelligence concerning his absent consort.
General history maintains a mysterious silence regarding
the manner in which the princess of Orange spent her days
whilst England Avas lost and won by her spouse
by her sire
The readers of the printed tomes of her political and spiritual

adviser. Dr. Burnet, are forced to rest contented with the
information that she went four times daily to public prayers
at the Hague, " with a very composed countenance." The

princess, however, contrived to mingle some other occupa-
tions with her public exercise of piety. For instance, she
was engaged in cultivating a strong intimacy with the fugi-
tive earl and countess of Sunderland at this dim period of
her biography. They had just taken refuge, under her pro-
tection, from the rage of the English people. As Sunderland
had for the more effectual betrayal of her father affected to
become a Catholic convert, and now offered the tribute of

his faith to the tenets of Calvin, the princess put him to be
purified under the care of a friend and counsellor of her own,

who is called by her contemporary, Cunningham, "Gerva8,the
Dutch prophet."^ Whether he were the same prophet who
earned the title by foretelling to her royal highness the sub-
sequent exaltation of herself and husband to the throne of
England, cannot precisely be ascertained but she assuredly ;
had her fortune told while her husband was invading her
' Works of Sheffield duke of Buckingham, vol. ii., Narrative, pp. 86, 87.
* Cunningham's History of Great Britain, vol. i. p. 96.
MAUY II. 187
father, because she inforniod IJurnot' how every circum-

stance predicted had proved true whcni she afterwards arrived
in Eii};laiid. The emidoymeiit of privately peepin;;^ into
futurity while her husband v.as cttectin;? tbe downfall of her
fatlicr, forma an odd contrast to h(;r pubUc participation in
prayer four times daily.
Other supernatural indications were communicated to tho
princess regarding the success of the invasion, ])y tho less
objectionable channel of the dream of lady Henrietta Camp-

bell, the wife of a refugee from tlie Argyle insurrection, who
was under the protection of the Orange court. The night

after which her husband had em-
the expedition sailed, in
dreamed that the prince of Orango
lady Henrietta
barked,
and his fleet arrived safely on the coast of England, but that
there was a great brazen wall built up to oppose them.
IT
When they landed, and were endeavouring to scale it, the
wall came tumbling down, being entirely built of Jîbles.'
The lady forthwith told her dream to the princess of Orange

and lady Sunderland, who were both, as she says, much
taken with it. The tale, from an author puerile and false as
Wodrow, deserves little attention but for one circumstance
which is, that lady Sunderland was in familiar intercourse
with the princess of Orange, and located with her as early as
November 1, 1G88.
The princess was likewise earnestly engaged in negotiating
by letter to her spouse the return of her friend aiul neophyte
Sunderland.^ Most willingly would William of Orange have
received him, but, unfortunately, the great body of the Eng-
hsh people manifested against the serviceable revolutionist a
degree of loathing and hatred which he deemed dangerous.
In the course of the correspondence, the royalists accused the
princess of reproaching her spouse " for letting her father go
as he did," —
a reproach which seems afterwards to have been
uttered by her in passion,"* when she was in London, safely
surrounded by her English partisans ; but as for writing or
uttering a disapproving word to her lord and master whilst
' Burnet's MSS,, Harleian MSS. « Wodrovv's Analecta, torn. i. p. 281.

• Cunningham's History of England. * Memoii-s of James II.
i
Hiii i^
Wk
188 MARY II.
she was in Holland, it was certainly more than she dared
to do. The family junta ever surrounding the princess of

Orange in her own domestic establishment were reduced
by death just as the Dutch party became triumphant in
England. Anne Villiers, the wife of Bentinck, died soon
after the prince of Orange landed at Torbay.' Lady Inchi-
quin, madame Puissars, and the mistress of the prince of
Orange, Elizabeth Villiers, still formed part of the house-
hold of the princess in Holland, while the Enghsh revo-
lution was maturing.
Meantime, the taciturn obstinacy of the prince of Orange
in England fairly wearied out the opponents to his indepen-
dent royalty. He knew that the English ncbility who had
eflFected the revolution were placed in an awkward position,
and that, in fact, they would be forced to perform his mil
and pleasure. His proceedings are thus noted by an eyi-
witness " Access to him was not very easy.
: He Ustened to
all that was said, but seldom answered. This reservedness
continued several weeks, during which he enclosed himseK at
St. James's. Nobody could tell what he desired."'* At last,
the " gracious Duncan" spake of his grievances. One day
he told the marquess of Halifax, and the earls of Shrews-
bury and Danby, his mind in this speech " The English," :
he said, " were for putting the princess Mary singly on the
throne, and were for making him reign by her courtesy.
No man could esteem a woman more than he did the prin-
cess ; but he was so made, that he could not hold any thing
by apron strings."^ This speech plunged the English nobles
into more perplexity than ever, from which, according to
», his own account, they were relieved by Dr. Burnet. He
came forward as the guide of Mary's conscience, and her
confidant on this knotty point, and promised, in her name,
" that she would prefer yielding the precedence to her hus-
band in regard to the succession, as well as in every other
'(:"i
affair of life." Lord Danby did not wholly trust to the
evidence of Burnet. He sent the princess of Orange a nar-
* Clarendon Diary.
Works of Shemeid duke of Buckingham, vol. ii. pp. 86, S7. » Ibid.
MARY II. 189
rative of the state of aflfairs, assuring her, " that if she con-
sidered itproper to insist on her lineal rights, he was certain
that the convention
would persist in declaring her sole sove-
reign." The princess answered, " that she was the prince's
wife and never meant to be other than in subjection to him,
and that she did not thank any one for setting up for her an
interest divided from that of her husband." Not content
with this answer, she sent Danby's letter and proposals to
her spouse in England.*
The national convention of lords and commons then set-
tled, that the prince of Orange was to be offered the dignity
of king of England, France, and Ireland, (Scotland being a

separate kingdom); that the princess, his wife, was to be of-
fered the joint sovereignty; that all regal acts were to be
effected in th':ir united names, but the executive power was
to be vested in the prince. No one explained why the
.1 II
English convention thought proper to legislate for France

ti! !l
and Ireland, while, at the same time, it left to Scotland the

privilege of legislating for itself. The succession was set-
tled on the issue of William and Mary ; if that failed, to the
princess Anne and her issue and if that failed, on the issue
;
of WilUam by any second wife ; and if that failed, on whom-
soever the parliament thought fit.^ The elder portion of the

Enghsh revolutionists were happy to find affairs settled in
any way, but the younger and more fierT spirits, who had
been inspired by romantic enthusiasm for the British heiress
and a female reign, began to be tired of the revolution, and
disgusted with the sullen selfishness of its hero. Their
discontent exhaled in song:
" All Orange my masters, come on,
hail to the !
you what wonders he for ns has done

I'll tell :
He has pulled down the father, and thrust out the son.
And put by the daughters, and filled up the throne
With an Orange !"»
* Tindal's Continuation, pp, 86, 87.

Burnet and Rapin, vol. ii. folio, p. 794.
'
' Contemporary MS. from the library of the Stuart-palace at Rome. It
consists of the popular political songs of the English revolution, and was pre-
sented to the great English artist, sir Robert Strange, by the chevalier St.
-Ji^K.smifmR Vifii
uecrge, wuose uriuonal uiBigiuu are on tue i/iuuing. j.iie voluiue preaerves
190 MARY II.
The prince of Orange, after the settlement was made to

his own satisfaction, permitted his consort to emba-k for
England; she had been ostensibly detained in HoUaud
while the succession was contested, by frosts and contrary
winds. It is said that Mary was so infinitely beloved iu
Holland, that she left the people all in tears when she
embarked, February 10th, to take possession of the English
/ throne. She burst into tears herself, on hearing one of
the common people express a wish "that the English might
love her as well as those had done whom she was leavinff/'
The embarkation of the princess took place at the Brill.
The evening when the news arrived in London that the
Dutch fleet, escorting the princess of Orange, was making
the mouth of the Thames, the metropolis blazed with joyous
bonfires. The pope, notwithstanding his deep enmity to
James II., was duly burnt in effigy he was provided with
:
a companion, the fugitive father Petre. These were accom-

panied by a representative of the rival of the princess of
Orange in the succession to the British throne, even the
image of her poor little infant brother, the first time, —
perhaps, that a baby of six months old was ever executed
in effigy. Many persons have heard that puppets, repre-
senting the "pope and pretender," were always consumed

on the anniversaries of the Revolution, but few know how
early the latter was burnt in these pageants, as a testi-
monial of respect to celebrate the landing and proclamation

of hissister. " Aliment to the brutal passions was prepared,"
observes a French historian of this century,' " being ignoble
representations of the pope, father Petre, and the prince
of Wales, which were thrown into the flames, a spectacle —
agreeable to the multitude, no doubt; but even political
expediency ought not to be sufiored to outrage nature."

many The author has been
curious traits of the people utterly lost to history.
favoured, by the present accomplished lady Strange, with the loan of tlie
manuscript,
> Mazure, Revolution de 1688, p. 368.
"A
MARY II.
QUEEN-REGNANT OP GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.
CHAPTER V.
Regnal life of Mary —Her

II. the
position in sovereignty —
Remarkable instances
of conjugal —Scene
submission of her landing, from a contemporary painting
—Arrival at Greenwich— Meeting with her Anne— Lands sisterWhite- at
hall-stairs —Unseemly joy — of William
^Proclamation and Mary II.— III.
Queen sends for archbishop — answer—Queen's
Bancroft's blessing Awfiil ill-
will to her uncles —Her Hampton-Coiu't—Exhortation

visit to Dr. Burnet to
and his wife —Coronation morning—Ariival—of her —His male-
father's letter
diction —Coronation of William and Mary take oath
'They
king and the as
queen of Scotland —Dissension with the Anne — Her pecuniary
princess dis-
tress —King's rudeness her to —Queen's behaviour the play—Goes
at table at
to curiosity-shops —To a —Rude
fortuneteller of the king —
reproofsof Life
king and queen Hampton-Court—Birth
at the Amie's son
of princess
Baptized — Proclaimed duke of —His Gloucester —Annedelicate health retires
from Hampton-Court —Quarrel with the queen—Parliament
to Craven-hill
provides for Anne— of the queen—
Ill-will the — King
Insults to princess
prepares for the Irish campaign.
The swiftest gales and the most propitious weather that

ever speeded a favourite of fortune to the possession of a
throne, attended Mary princess of Orange in her short tran-
sit from the port of the Brill to the mouth of her native
Thames. She arrived there, glowing in health, and over-
flowing with an excess of joyous spirits beyond her power
to repress. Mary was brilliant in person at this epoch, and

had not yet attained her twenty-seventh year; she had
been declared joint sovereign with her husband, but was
not yet proclaimed, their signatures to the Bill of Rights
being expected in return for the election which elevated
them to her father's throne.
Mary brought in her train her domestic rival, Elizabeth
whom she had neither the power nor the moral
Villiers,
courage to expel from her household. William of Orange

s r
,..
I,,
! )
192 MARY II.
had not dared to outrage public opinion in England, by

making this woman the companion of his expedition against
his consort's father; but as he by no means intended to
break his connexion with her, his wife was doomed to the
mortification of chaperoning her from Holland. Subservient
to conjugal authority in all things, Mary
submitted even to
this degradation. Her compliance prevented the English
people from murmuring at witnessing the toleration of her
husband's mistress at Whitehall, at the same time holding a
responsible situation about her own person.
The and Mary was not a little acce-
success of William
lerated by the pubhcation of an absurd prophecy, which
affected to have described the tragic death of Charles I., the
and ended by declaring " that the

restoration of Charles II.,
next king would go post to Rome;" all which was to hap-
pen " when there were three queens of England at the same
time." The three queens were expounded to mean herself,
Catharine of Braganza, and Mary Beatrice.' The scene of
Mary's landing in England on the morning of February
'^
12, 1688-9, is graphically delineated in the second of the invasion, (
contemporary Dutch paintings recently brought to Hamp-

ton-Court palace. A group of English courtiers are bowing
down before the princess her page stands in the back-
:
ground, laden with her large orange cloak, which, with its
hanging sleeves and ample draperies, sweeps the ground.
Her gown is very low, draped with folds of fine muslin
round the bosom, looped with strings of pearls ; her hair is
dressed with lofty cornettes of orange ribbon and aigraffes
of pearls; the purple velvet robe shows an ostentatious-
looking orange petticoat. Orange banners are borne before
the princess, and about her. Her tall lord chamberlain,
hat in hand, is directing her attention to her grand state
charger, which is richly caparisoned with purple velvet
saddle, and housings emblazoned with the crown and royal
arms of Great Britain, and led by her master of the horse,
* Lamberty, vol. i. p. 371.
' The queen embarked at the BrUl, Monday, Feb. 10, and was at the Nore
in a few hours.
MARY IT. 193
sir Edward Villiers, who is Females

in full court dress.
are strewing flowers. surrounded by her officers of
l^Tary is
state, and attended by her Dutch lady of honour, in lofty
stiff head-gear. It appears that she made a land journey
from the place of her debarkation to Greenwich. The prin-

cess Anne and prince George of Denmark, with their atten-
dants, received her majesty at Greenwich-palace.' The
royal sisters met each other " with transports of affection,''
says lady Churchill,

" which soon fell off, and coldness
ensued." But not then; both Mary and Anne were too
much elated with their success, to disagree in that hour
of joy and exultation, —joy so supreme, that Mary could
neither dissemble nor contain it. The royal barge of her
exiled father was waiting for her at Greenwich-palace stairs,
and, amidst a chorus of shouts and welcomes from an im-

mense throng of spectators, she entered it with her sister
and brother-in-law, and was in a short time rowed to White-

hall-stairs, where she landed, and took possession of her
father's palace.'^ Her husband, for the first time since his
invasion, came to Whitehall, but not until Mary had ac-
tually arrived there. '^ " By such artifice William threw on
the daughter of the exiled king the odium of the first oc-
cupation of his palace.''^
Four writers, who
all profess to be eye-witnesses of her
demeanour, have each recorded what they saw one of :
them, a philosophical observer, Evelyn; another an enemy,

lady Churchill; a third, a panegyrist, Oldmixon; and the
fourth an apologist, her friend Burnet. This concurrence

of evidences, each of whom wrote unknown to the other,
makes the conduct of Mary one of the best authenticated

passages in history. " She came into Whitehall, jolly as
to a wedding," wrote Evelyn, " seeming quite transported
with joy.'' Some of Mary's party, to shield her from the

disgust that eye-witnesses felt at her demeanour, declared
she was acting a part that had been sternly prescribed her
» Oldmixon, p. 780.
* Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough. ' Lamberty.
* Mozure, Revolution d'Angleterre, vol. iii. 365.
VOL. VII. O
194 MARY II.
by her husband's letters. Her

partisan, Oldmixon, enraged
at these excuses, exclaimed, " If they had seen her as others
did, they would not have ventured to report such falsity so j
far from acting a part not natural to her, there was nothinL'
in her looks which was not as natural and as lovely as ever
there were charms in woman."' Lady Churchill, in her
fierce phraseology, speaks of what she witnessed without the
slightest compromise, and as her assertions are borne out
by a person respectable as Evelyn, she may be believed:
"Queen Mary wanted bowels; of this she gave unques-
tionable proof the first day she came to Whitehall. She
ran about it, looking into every closet and conveniency, and
turning up the quilts of the beds, just as people do at an
inn, with no sort of concern in her appearance. Although
at the time I was extremely caressed by her, I thought this
strange and unbecoming conduct; for whatever necessity
there was of deposing king James, he was still her father,
who had been lately driven from that very chamber, and
from that bed and if she felt no tenderness, I thought, at
;
least, she might have felt grave, or even pensively sad, at so
melancholy a reverse of fortune.'* But I kept these thoughts

in my own even imparting them to my mistress,
breast, not
the princess Anne, to whom
I could say any thing." As
the conduct of her mistress had been still more coarse and
unnatural than that of her sister, lady Churchill knew that
she could not blame one, without reflecting severely on the
other.
The following apology, made by her friend Burnet,'
weighs more against Mary than the bold attack of her
sister's favourite. " She put on an air of great gaiety when
she came to Whitehall. I confess I was one of those who
censured her in my thoughts. I thought a little more seii-
ousness had done as well when she came into her father's
palace,and was to be set on his throne the next day. I had

never seen the least indecency in any part of her deportment
' Oldmixon's History, p. 780.

Conduct of Sarah duchess of Marlborough, p. 26. •
» Burnet's Own Times.
%
MARY II. 195
before, which made this appear to me so extraordinary that,

' How it came,
afterwards, I took the liberty to ask her,
that what she saw in so sad a revolution in her father's per-

son had not made a greater impression on her?' She took
this freedom with her usual goodness, and assured me ' that
she felt the sense of it very lively in her thoughts;' but she
added, * that the letters which had been writ to her had
obliged her to put on a cheerfulness, in which she might,
perhaps, go too far, because she was obeying directions, and
acting a part not natural to her.' " Thus did queen Mary
throw from herself the blame of an unfeeling levity, which had
revolted even the coarse minds of Burnet and lady Churchill;
but surely the commands of her partner had reference only

to the manner in which she acted the part of royalty while
the eyes of her new subjects were upon her; it did not dic-
tate the heartless glee,^ when she made her perambulations
to examine into the state of the goods that had fallen into
her on the evening of her arrival, and betimes in the
grasp
succeeding morning. He might prescribe the grimace he
chose to be assumed in her robes, but not her proceedings
in her dressing-gown, before her women were on duty.
" She rose early in the morning," says Evelyn, who had a
relative in waiting on her, " and in her undress, before her
women were up, went about from room to room, to see the
convenience of Whitehall. She slept in the same bed and
apartment where the queen of James II. had lain, and within
a night or two sat down to basset, as the queen her prede-
cessor had done. She smiled upon all, and talked to every
body, so that no change seemed to have taken place at court
as to queens, save that infinite throngs of people came to see

her,and that she went to our prayers. Her demeanom* was
censured by many. She seems to be of a good temper, and
that she takes nothing to heart; while the prince, her
husband, has a thoughtful countenance, is wonderfully
serious silent, and seems to treat all persons alike
and
gravely, and to be very intent on his affairs." Mary thus
took possession, not only of her father's house, but of all the
' Evelyn's Diary, vol. ii. p. 37.
o 3
-m
]9G MARY ir.
personal property of her step-mother which had been left in
her power. Evelyn was scandalized at seeing in her posses-

sion several articles of value, among others a cabinet of
silver filigree :
" It belonged," he says,' " to our queen
Mary, wife of James II., and which, in my opinion, should
—
have been generously sent," honestly would have been the
more appropriate term. The case was uglier, since her old
father had sent by Mr. Hayes— a servant kinder to him than
his own child— a request clothes and for his his personal
property, which her uncle, lord Clarendon, with a sad and
sore heart observes " was utterly neglected."
The morrow was appointed for the proclamation in London
of the elected sovereigns, although it was Ash-Wednesdav.
The day of Lent was then kept as one of deep humilia-

first
tion: strange indeed did the pealing of bells, the firing of

cannon, and the flourishing of drums seem to those attached
to the established church. The day was most inclement, and
with a dismal own-pouring of
r wet.'* All London was, how-
ever, astir, and the new queen earlier than any one, accord-
ing to the preceding testimony. About noon on Ash-Wed-

nesday, February 13th, 1688-9, William and Mary proceeded
in state- dresses, but without any diadems, from the interior of
the palace of Whitehall to the Banqueting-house, and placed
themselves in chaii's of state under the royal canopy. This
scene is best described in a letter written by lady Cavendish,

the daughter of the celebrated lady Rachel Russell, a very
young woman, sixteen years of age :^ " When the lords and
commoners had agreed upon what power to take away from
the king, [she means the Bill of Rights,] my lord Halifax,
who is chairman, went to the Banqueting-house, and in a
short speech desired them, [William and Mary,] in the name
of the lords, to accept the crown. The prince of Orange
answered in a few words, the princess made cm'tsies. They
' Evelyn's Diary, vol. ii. p. 37. * Clarendon's Diary, vol. ii.
• The letter is extant, in the collection of the duke of Devonshire : I saw,
however, only the first portion of the original MS. It is addressed to her
cousin, Mrs. Jane Allington, whom, in the fashion of that day, she calls Silvia,
and herself Dorinda. She gives, it will be seen, romantic names to that very
'
ungentimental pair, William and Mary.
MARY II. 197
when they named her father^s faults^ she looked down as

if
say,
—
were troubled." " It was expected/' said Evelyn,
she
" that both, especially the princess, would have showed some
reUictance, seeming perhaps, of assuming her father's crown,
and made some apology, testifying her regret that he should
by his mismanagement have forced the nation to so extraor-

dinary a proceeding, Avhich would have showed very hand-
somely to the world, according to the character given of her
piety; consonant, also, to her
husband's first declaration,
' was no intention of deposing the king, only of
that there
succouring the nation;' but nothing of the kind appeared."

As soon as their signatures were affixed to the Bill of
Rights, William and Mary were proclaimed William III.
and Mary II., sovereign king and queen of England,

France, and Ireland. " Many of the churchmen," resumes
the young lady Cavendish, ''would not have it done on
that day, because it was Ash- Wednesday. I was at the
sight, and, as you may suppose, very much pleased to see
Ormanzor and Phenixana proclaimed king and queen of
England, instead of king James, my father's murderer.*
There were wonderful acclamations of joy, which, though
they were very pleasing to me, they frighted me too ; for
I could not but think what a dreadful thing
would be it
to fall into the hands of the rabble, —

they are such a
strange sort of people At night, I went to court with
!
my lady Devonshire, [her mother-in-law,] and kissed the

queen's hands, and the king's also. There was a world of
bonfires and candles in almost every house, which looked
extreme pretty. The king is wonderfully admired for his

great wisdom and prudence. He is a man of no presence,
but looks very homely at first sight yet, if one looks long
:
at him, he has something in his face both wise and good.
As for the queen, she is really altogether very handsome

her face is agreeable, and her motions extremely graceful
and fine. She is tall, but not so tall as the last queen,
[the consort of James II.]. Her room is mighty full of
' The young lady was lady liachel, daughter of the lord Bussell who waa
beheaded in 1683.
P^lr:'
198 MARY II.
)i
company, as you may guess." At this memorable draw,
ing-room, the princess Anne displayed her knowledge of
the minute laws of royal etiquette. The attendants had
placed her tabouret too near the royal chairs, so that it
was partly overshadowed by the canopy of state. The
princess Anne would not seat herself under it, until it was
removed to a correct distance from the state-chair of the
queen her sister.^
Queen Mary was neither so much engrossed by her in-
quisition into the state of the chattels her father had left
in his apartments, nor by the triumph of her accession

on that memorable Ash-Wednesday, as to leave neglected
a delicate stroke of diplomacy, whereby she trusted to
sound the real intentions of archbishop Sancroft. The
conduct of the primate was inscrutable to her consort and
his courtiers. No character is so inexplicable to douh'e
dealers as the single-hearted; no mystery so deep to the
utterers of falsehood as the simplicity of truth.

When
archbishop Sancroft resisted the measures of James II.,
as dangerous to the church of England, and tending to
bring her back to the corruptions of Rome, no one of the
Orange faction believed Ibr a moment in his sincerity.
They took the conscientious and self-denying Christian
for a political agitator, —the raiser of a faction-howl, hke
Titus Oates. In their distrust of all that was good and
true, deemed that the primate of the chiu-ch of

they
England had some secret interest to carry, which had
not been fathomed by William of Orange, on account of
his want of familiarity with the technicalities of Enghsh
ecclesiastical affairs; they supposed that the primate and
the queen would perfectly understand each other. The
queen had the same idea, and accordingly despatched two

of her chaplains, one of whom was Dr. Stanley, to Lam-
beth, on the afternoon of the important proclamation-day, to
crave for her archbishop Sancroft's blessing. The clerical
messengers had, however, other motives besides this osten-
sible one ; they were to attend service at the archbishop's
> MSS. of Anstis, Garter king-at-arms.

—
MARY II. 190
private whether king James and his son were

chapel, observe
prayed for, and bring the report to the new queen.'
While her majesty waited for this important benedic-
tion, she once more took possession of the home of her
childhood, St. James's-palace, where she meant to tarry
till her coronation, which circumstance a brilliant con-

temporary has thus illustrated in his description of that
:
palace
" There through the ilusk-retl towers, amidst his ring
Of Vans und Mynlieurs, nxle the Dutcliman king;
And there did England's (ioneril thrill to hear,
Tlie sliouts that triumphed o'er her crownless Lear."'
The archbishop's chaplain, WTiarton, went to his vener-
able master for directions as to "what royal personages

he was to pray forin the service for Ash- Wednesday
afternoon." have — "I
no new directions to give you," re-
plied the archbishop. Wharton, who had been brought
up in the church of England, had left it for the Roman-
catholic creed, and had turned again, determined to take
the oath to William and Mary. He therefore affected to

consider this injunction as a permission to use his own dis-
cretion, and prayed for the newly-elected sovereigns. The

archbishop sent for him, in great displeasure, after service,
and told him, "that henceforth he must desist from this
innovation, or leave off officiating in his chapel." The ex-
pression of the archbishop in reproof of those who prayed
for William and Mary was, "that they would require to
have the absolution repeated at the end of the service,
as well as at the beginning." The archbishop then ad-
mitted the messengers sent at the request of the queen
for his blessing. "Tell your princess," answered the un-
compromising primate, "first to ask her father's blessing;
without that, mine would be useless."^ The political ruse
of requiring Sancroft's benediction, is illustrative of Mary's
' Life of Archhishop Sancroft, by Dr. D'Oyley, vol. i. p. 434. Wharton has
likewise related these events in his curious Latin diary.
' New Timon, part i. p. 3. W
' Two contemporaries, who certainly never saw each other's historical remi-
niscences, relate this remarkable incident, but without marking the day when it
200 MAIIV II.
assumption of godliness; and the response, of archbishop

§tl>croft*8 unswerving integrity in testing all such assump-
tions by the actions of the professor, whether princess or
pea»uiil.
As early as the second day of her reign, queen Mary
manifested inimical feeling towards her uncles. Clarendon
har^ retired to his scat in the country, for repose after
his labours in the convention; he was ill and heart-sick

at the aspect of the times. He wrote a letter, aiul ,.ave
it to his wife to deliver in person to his royal .!f o. Tliig
epistle, doubtless, contained an unwelcome disquMition on

filial duty, for lady Clarendon, when shn saw tlu^ demean-
our of the queen, dared not delivf r it. My wiib," wrote
lord Clarendon, "had some discourse vviLli the new queen
on Thursday, (February 14th,) wiio told her she was much
dissatisfted with me, and asked angrily, 'What has he to
do with the succession?' Lady Clarendon assured her 'that
he had acted for her and for her sister's true interest.'
She moreover asked her majesty, ' when she would please to
see her uncle ?' To which queen Mary replied, ' I shall not
appoint any time.' Lady Clarendon asked 'whether she
fo3l.a,d his visits?' The queen said, 'I have nothing to do
to forbid any body coming to the withdrawing-room, but I
shall not speak in private to him.'
" Her uncle Lawrence '
was not more graciously treated. " My brother," continues

lord Clarendon, " told me that the new queen had refused to
see him ; but that he had kissed king William's hand, Avho
treated him civilly. My brother advised my wife not to
deliver to thequeen the letter I had written." Three days

afterwards, queen Mai'v refused to see the children of her
unHe Lawrence. Tuov wevr. little girls of ceren or eight
years old, incapable f : .. > Dlitical oUence.^
Dr. Bates had an auUience of the king and queen on their
return to St. James's he was deputy from the English dis-
;
senters, and came to express their expectation that a general
occurred. These authorities are the duke of Berwick, in his Memoirs, and lord
Dartmouth, in liis Notes the fact is therefore indisputable.

:
» Clarendon Diary, vol. ii. pp. 263, 264. « Ibid.
^4f)iL.
MAUY II. 901
union of principles and churcli-propcrty should forthwith

take place hetwecti dissenters and the church (»t Kii<^-
tlu;
land. The reply of the ([iieen was, " I will use all endea-
vours for jiromotin}; nny union necessary for ethfying the
church. 1 desire your prayers."* The new queen showiul

her zeal for churcli reform, hy expiHinj; from h( r chap( at 1
St. James's "several fiddlers," who chiefly sustained the

sacred music therein. Her majesty's religious deportment
at church gave general satisfaction, but the l)eha\i(mr of her
spouse scandalized all who saw him at church, where it was
liis pleasure to wear his hat. If ever lie happened to he
uncovered during the solemn recital of tiie liturgy, he in-
variably assumed his hat directly the sermon hegan. Tlis
partisans excused this conduct, by observing that such as
the custom among the Dutch disscTrtcrs, They likewise
pleaded that the Jews did the same ;'^
but members of the
church of England did not like the ! ing's irreverent de-
meanour a whit the better on account )f the examples he
followed. The queen's suppression of "fi( dling" was univer-
sally approved, but they could not away ^\ ith the hat of her
Dutch partner.
King William, being thoroughly impatient of London air,
and of all the pomps and ceremonies connected with his
accession, hurried the queen away with him to Hampton-
Court. was apt to be very peevish " says Burnet,
"He
"and to conceal his fretfulness, put him in a necessity of
being very much in his closet. He had pron. sed his friends
to set about being more visible, open, and ommunicative. <
The nation had been so much used to this in he two former

reigns, that many persuaded him to be more a cessible. He
said 'that his ill health made it impossible.' He only came
to town on council days, so that the face of a c »urt was now
quite broke. This gave an early and general disgust. The
gaiety and though the quetn set herself
of court disappeared,
to make up what was wanting in the king by a great vivacity,
yet, when it appeared that she meddled little in L usiness, few
' White Kennet's History of England.

* Tindal's Continuation, p. 24, vol. i.
202 MARY II.
found their account in making their court to her. Though

she gave great content to all that came to her, ytt very
few came." It was the custom for presentations to he made
to the queen after divine service. Lord Clarendon writes
" In the evening, March 3rd, 1689, my brother Lawrence
told me that he had been to Hampton-Court, where kii,c
William had, at last, presented him to tlie queen ; but it was
in the crowd, as she came from church. He kissed her hand
and that was all."*
The veteran diplomatist, Danby, was extremely sedulous in
his visits to Lambeth, hoping to induce archbishop Saucroft
to crown the new sovereigns. The archbishop refused, and, as
well as lord Clarendon, persisted that he could not take any
new oath of allegiance. Four of the bishops who had heen
sent to the Tower by king James IL, with two others of
their episcopal brethren,^ and several hundreds of the lower
—
English clergy, among whom may be reckoned the revered
names of Beveridge, Nelson, Stanhope, and Sherlock,— fol-
lowed the example of their primate, and forsook livings and
property rather than violate their consciences.^ By the
great body of the people they were infinitely reverenced,
but from the triumphant party they obtained the rather ill-
sounding designation of nonjurors, or non-swearers. Queen
Mary gave sir Roger Êstrange, a literary partisan of her
father, the cognomen of Lying Strange Roger. Her majesty
deemed it was an anagram of his name.
Her late chaplain. Dr. Ken, bishop of Bath and Wells,
expressed himself indignantly regarding her personal de-
meanour he refused to quit his bishopric, or take the oaths

:
to her. Queen Mary sarcastically observed, "Bishop Ken

is desirous of martyrdom in the nonjuring cause, but I shall
disappoint him." There was great political wisdom in this
' Clarendon Diary, vol. ii. p. 267.

' Archbishop Sancroft; Dr. Ken, Inshop of Bath and Wells; Dr. Francis
Turner, bishop of Kly Dr. Lake, bishop of Chidioster Dr. "White, bislio]) of
; ;
Peterborough and Dr. Lloyd, biwhop of Norwich, were the nonjuring prelates
;
who refused to take oaths of allegiance to William and Mary.

' Lloyd, bishop of 8t. Asaph, and 'IVelawiiey, bishop of Bristol, not only
foil owed the revolutionary movement, but had been its agents.
MARY II. 203
observation, who would not have

yet there are few persons
felt grieved at standinglow in the estimation of a man,
whose moral worth ranked so high as that of Ken. An
early opportunity occurred for the queen to reward the revo-
lutionary services of Burnet, by his promotion to the valu-
able see of Salisbury. Her majesty exercised her functions

the " dual head" of the church, by a personal exhortation
as
to the following effect : — " That

she hoped that I [Burnet]
would set a pattern to others, and would put in practice
those notions with which I had taken the liberty sometimes
to entertain her," adding a careful proviso regarding Mrs.
Burnet's habiliments. " She recommended to me," he

writes, "the making my wife an example to the clergymen's
wives, both in the simplicity and plainness of her clothes,
and in the humility of her deportment." The " notions "
•
eommended by her majesty were not much to the taste of

the English people. Biu'net's inaugural pastoral letter was
condemned by parliament to be burnt by the common hang-
man, and was actually thus executed, the national pride
being aroused by a "notion^' as untrue as it was insolent,
the new bishop having declared that William and Mary
exercised their regal power by right of conquest, a distaste- —
ful clause to the victors of Solebay. The execution of Dr.
Burnet's sermon was not the only case of the kind in this
reign. The lords sentenced a book published by Bentley
to be burnt by the common hangman in Old Palace-yard,
entitled, "King William and Queen Mary Conquerors."'^
Notwithstanding the settlement of the English crown in

the names of both William and Mary, a glance at the lord
chamberlain's books will prove that the queen (some days

after her recognition at the Banqueting-house) was admitted
to her own apartments at Whitehall by the power of her
husband's name alone. The king's lord chamberlain, lord

Dorset, signed a document, dated February 19, 1688-9, in
the first year of his majesty king William's reign, addressed
to William Bucke, blacksmith, authorizing him to make
» MS. of Burnet, Harleian MSS.
« MS. Journal of the House of Lords, 1693.

204 MARY II.
new keys for the queen's apartments at Whitehall -palace

and to deliver the said new keys to her majesty's lord cham-
berlain, lord Wiltshire.' Maiy was not admitted to her royal
suite at the state-palace until February 29, when the kincrs
lord chamberlain gave her access to a certain number of
apartments in Whitehall, excepting those which the kin<r s
majesty had allotted otherwise, as marked by him in the
margin.^ Thus the queen's sovereign rights did not even
give her free possession of her own apartments, for a portion
of them had by her husband been arbitrarily awarded to
some other person. It is not difficult to surmise for whom
these apartments were destined by William. Lord Wilt-
shire's^ warrant as lord chamberlain to the queen, was not
made out until the 12th of the ensuing month.
The coronation of the joint sover' s next occupied the
thoughts of every one at their coiut. J iie former regalia willi
which the queens-consort were iiiaap.urated was not deemed

sufficiently symbolical of the sovereign power shared by
Mary II., and a second globe, a sceptre, and a sword of state
were made for her."* An alteration of far greater import was

efltected in the coronation ceremony. The oath was altered
decidedly to a Protestant tendency, and the sovereigns of
England were no longer required to make their oath and prac-

tice diametrically opposite. The coronation morning (April
11th) brought many cares to the triumphant sovereigns. Just
as their robing was completed, and they were about to set off
for Westminster-hall, news arrived of the successful landing

of James II. at Kinsale, in Ireland, and that he had taken
peaceable possession of the whole island, with the exception
of Londonderry and a few other towns. At the same mo-
ment lord Nottingham delivered to queen Mary the first
• Lord-cliamberlain's books. * Which does not appear.

• Although his name appears in the pages of Lamherty as wi 11 as in lord
chamberlain's warrants, no account can be found of the lord Wiltshire of KJSS
in any English history he had soon to give way to lord Nottingham as the
:
queen's lord chaml)crlain.

* Regal Recortls, by J. Planche, esq., Menin, and above all, the abstract of
the coronation-service forwarded to the princess Sophia at Hanover, just after

the coronation of James ILj sliows iho coronution-OHtb before the altorntiou
waa made. King's MSS. Brit. Museum.
MARY II. 205
letter her father had written to her since her accession. It i

was an awful one, and the time of its reception was awfiil.
King James wrote to his daughter, " That hitherto he had
made all fatherly excuses for what had been done, and had
wliolly attributed her part in the revolution to obedience to ^m

her husband; but the act of being crowned was in her own
power, and if she were crowned while he and the prince of
Wales were living, the curses of an outraged father would
light upon her, as well as of that God who has commanded
duty to parents." If queen Mary were not confounded by
this letter, king William certainly was. Lord Nottingham, f^ ii
who recorded the scene as an eye-witness, declares " that king
William forthwith thought fit to enter into a vindication of
himself from having by harsh authority enforced the course i
of had brought on his wife her father's male-

conduct which
^.n ii
diction j" and he took the opportunity of declaring, " that
he had done nothing but by her advice, and with her appro-
bation." It was on this memorable occasion that, irritated

'
by the ill news of her father's formidable position, the queen

recriminated, '^
that if her father regained his authority,
her husband might thank himself, for letting him go as he
did."^ These words were reported to James II., who from
that hour believed, to use hisown words, " that his daughter
wished some cruelty or other to be perpetrated against
]iim."3
The alarming news of the arrival of her father in Ireland

was communicated to the princess Anne likewise, while she
was dressing for the coronation. The political prospects of
the Orange party seemed gloomy, and the ladies at the toilet
of the Anne, who had jeered and mocked at the
princess
birth of now silent, and medi-
the disinherited prince, were
tated how they should make their peace if king J ames were
restored. Mrs. Dawson was present, who had belonged to

the household of Anne Hyde, duchess of York, and of
queen Mary Beatrice she had been present at the birth of

:
the exiled prince of Wales. The princess Anne, in the midst

' MSS. of lord Nottingham, printed in Dalrymple's Appendix. * Ibid.
» Memoii's of Jamea II., edited by Stanier Clark, vol. ii. p. 329.
206 MARY IT.
of the apprehensions of the moment, asked Mrs. Dawson

" whether she believed the prince of Wales was her brother
or not?"
—" He is, madam, your brother, the son
as surely
of the king, [James,] and of his queen,
as you are the
daughter of the late duchess of York ; and I speak what I
know, for I was the first person who received ye both in my
arms." * It will be remembered that, in the odious corres-
pondence which took place between the princesses on this
subject, it was mentioned that Mrs. Dawson had previously
given the same solemn testimony to the princess Anne. She
had, moreover, added technical evidence,'^ which must have
brought conviction to any woman who was not predisposed
to the falsehood, and desirous of believing the worst. Such
conversations as these, occurring as they did at the actual
robing for the coronation of Mary and her spouse, resemhle
more the passionate dialogue of tragedy, where the identity
of some princely claimant is discussed, than the dull routine
of ceremonial in times closely approximating to our own.
And then, as if to bring this drama of real life to a cUmax,
the old exiled king, in his memoirs, after relating the horrid
observation of his once-beloved Mary, bursts into the follow-
ing agonizing exclamations :

" When he heard this, he per-
ceived that his own children had lost all bowels, not only of
filial aflfection, but of common compassion, and were as ready
as the Jewish tribe of old to raise the cry, * Away with him
from the face of the earth ' It was the more grievous,
!
because the hand which gave the blow was most dear to him.
Yet Providence gave her some share of disquiet too for this ;
news, coming just at their coronation, put a damp on those

joys, which had left no room in her heart for the remem-
brance of a fond and loving father. Like another TuUia,
under the show of sacrificing all to her country's liberty, she
truly sacrificed her honour, her duty, and even religion, to
drive out a peaceful TuUius, and set up another Tarquin in
^
his place."
• Memoirs of James II., p. 329.
' Correspondence of the princess Anne and princess of Orange, Dalrymple's
Appendix.
* Memoirs of James II., vol. ii. pp. 328, 329.
MARY II. 207
The mere ceremonial of the coronation of Mary II. and

William III. sinks into flat and vapid verbiage, after its
introductory scenes of stormy passion. Who, after the awful
malediction and the agonizing bewailment, where the tender-
ness of the parent is still apparent, can pause to measure the
length of train? ? or value the weight of gold or the lustre

of The strange scene of recrimination between the
jewels ?
king and queen of the revolution, must have taken place

nearly at their entering on the business of the day. It ex-
plains what Lamberty mysteriously affirms, "that all was
ready for the coronation by eleven o'clock,^' but such were
the distractions of that eventful day, "that the ceremony
did not commence till half-past one." The king went from
the palace of Whitehall nearly an hour before the queen,
descended the privy-stairs, where his royal barge waited,
entered it with his suite, and was rowed to Westminster-
palace. He arrived at the Parliament water-stairs, passed i I
up by Old Palace-yard at ten o'clock, and went direct to the

'prince's chamber,' where he reposed himself, and was in-
vested with his surcoat and parliamentary robes.
The queen, who received the news of her father's landing
in Ireland just after the completion of her toilet, retired
from the foregoing discussion, to perform the private de-
votions considered suitable for her
coronation-morning.
\\Tien her majesty left Whitehall, which was an hour subse-
quently to the king, she was attired in her parliamentary

robes, furred with ermine ; on her head she wore a circlet of
gold richly adorned with precious stones. In this array, she

entered her chair, and was carried from Whitehall-palace,
through the Privy-garden,^ thence into the Channel or Can-
non-row, and so across New Palace-yard, up Westminster-
hall into the large state-room called '
the court of wards,'
where she rested herself while the- proceeding was set in
order in the hall." ^ The place of the princess Anne is not
' " Wlien Wliitehall existed," says Menin, " a way was opened through Privy-
gardens to New Palace-yard for the chairs, not only of the queen, but the
nobility, by special order of the lord cluunberlain."
' Menin's English Coronations, (William and Mary,) pp. 6-16. Lamberty.
"
lii I
208 MARY II.
h^
noted in any account of the procession ; in fact, her situation
rendered it imprudent for her to take any part, excepting
that of a spectator. Her husband, prince George of Den
mark, went in the robes of an English peer as duke of Cum-
berland, which title his brother-in-law, king WilUam, had
recently bestowed on him. The prince walked next to the
archbishop of York, and took precedence of the nobility.'
The peers were called over by the heralds in the house of
lords, and the peeresses in the Painted-chamber, " where
adds the herald, as if it were an unusual custom, "their
majesties were graciously pleased to be present," —no doubt
for the purpose of specially noting the absentees, "for,"
observes Lamberty, " the number of peers and peeresses at
the coronation of William and Mary was remarkably small,
and not, by a great number, equalling the procession in the

preceding coronation." The peers and peeresses being dra^vn
up in order, were conducted four abreast from the court of
requests, down the great stone staircase, into Westminster-

hali, and their majesties followed them by the same way:
"they took their places in Westminster-hall, and their seats
on the throne, then placed above the table."
The coronation medal illustrated the sudden dethroning of
the late king. Thereon, Phaeton was represented as stricken
from his car. Neither the subject, nor the execution, nor the
motto, was greatly relished by Evelyn ; still less was that of
another medal, representing the British oak shattered, while
a flourishing orange-tree grew by the stem, with the motto,
—
" Instead of acorns, golden oranges." " Much of the splen-
dour of the ceremony," continues Evelyn, " was abated by
the absence of divers who should have contributed to it.
There were but five bishops and four judges no more had ;
our crowna
taken the oaths. Several noblemen and great ladies were
absent." In all probability, the alarming news that James
II. was then reigning in the green island had caused the
absence of many time-servers. The chief peculiarity in the
ceremony was that of the double regal household, and the
> Menin's English Coronations, (William and Mary,) pp. G-16. Lamberty.
MARY IT. 209
addition of those who carried the regnant-queen's orb, regal

sceptre, and state sword.
•'I
At the recognition, both the king and queen appeared on

the platform, and the demand Avas made, "Whether the
people would accept William and Mary for their king and
queen?" The answer was, as usual, by acclamation. "The

king was presented by the bishop of London, although,"
adds Lamberty, "the archbishop of York was actually in
the abbey; the queen by the bishop of St. Asaph. The

bishop of Rochester, as dean of the church, gave the king
instructions how he was to conduct himself. Notwithstand-

in'^ these instructions, an odd blunder occurred their ma- :
jesties were kneeling by the rail of the altar at the time ;i

'»
when their first offering was to be made, consisting of twenty

guineas wrapped in a piece of rich silk; the envelope was
there, but, alas the gold was absent. The grand-chamber-

!
lain looked aghast at the lord treasurer, the lord treasurer

returned the then each demanded of the other the
glance ;
guineas for the offering, —

none were forthcoming. The gold
bason was handed to the king, the king was penniless; to
the queen, her majesty had no money ; the bason remained
void. A long pause ensued, which every one began to deem

excessively ridiculous," when lord Danby, who had had
assuredly enough of the public money, drew out his purse,
and counted out twenty guineas for the king the bason was :
therefore not sent empty away.
The holy Bible was presented for king William and queen
Mary to kiss. The Bible thus presented is now at the
Hague: in the title-page are these words, written in the
baud of the queen :
" This book was given the king and I at
our crownation. Marie, E,."* Dr. Burnet, the new bishop of
' In Macaulay's vol. i. p. 394, the sentence is quoted as an instance
England,
of queen Mary's ignorance and want of education ; yet the only variation from
correct orthography occurs in the word " crownation," — the queen's mode of
spelling which word is noto ohsolete, but not illiterate. Milton, Dryden, and
Addison, if their earlier editions are examined, will be found guilty of the same
ignorance. If Mr. Macaulay had condescended to read queen Mary's series of
liirtorioal letters, he would have found many passages in which her language
expresses her ideas, not only with elegant simplicity, but with power and
p»tiio8. The historian had, perliaps, some conftised notion of the ignorance of
VOL. VII. P
;
"',il
•••y\
BIP 210 MARY II.
!;« Salisbury, then presented himself in the pulpit, and preached

his sermon, which lasted just half an hour, and their majes-
tieswere observed to be very attentive to it. It was consi-
dered to be an exceUent one, and so it was for the purpose —
being an invective on the queen's father, by name, from be-
ginning to end.' The bishop of London tendered the coro-
nation-oath, according to the recent alterations, " to maintain
the Protestant religion as established by law." The kine
and queen replied simultaneously to each proposition, blend-
ing their voices in assent, and each holding up the right
hand they likewise kissed the book together. The unction
:
was not simultaneous: the bishop of London first poured

the oil on the head of William, and then went to the queen
and performed the same ceremony.'*
King William appropriated all that was possible of the
ceremonials symbolical of sovereign power wholly to him-
self. Queen Mary was neither girt with the sword, nor
i assumed the spurs or armilla, like the two queens-regnant,
her predecessors. When the sword was offered at the altar,
Mary and her regal partner carried it between them, when
the difference of their stature must have had an odd effect;
and the action itself, a diminutive man and a very tall, My
formed woman carrying an enormous sword between them,
appeared rather absurd. The ancient coronation-ring by
which England had been wedded to her royal admiral,
James II., still encircled his finger, for he mentions his
struggle to preserve it in the scene of his direst distress,
when plundered by the rabble at Feversham. As he was

successful, it is certain that this ancient gem was never worn
by either Mary or her spouse. There exist, in fact, accounts
(ffvârges made by the court-jeweller at this time for two
new coronation-rings. The archbishop of Canterbury hav-
ing positively refused to crown either William or IMary, his

office was performed by the former tutor of the queen,
her sister queen Anne, whose mangled tenses, misspelled and misapplied adverbs
and prepositions, may truly deserve censure.

> Menin's English Coronations, (William and Mary,) p. 64. Lamberty.
' Lamberty's History, vol. ii. p. 247. He was present, being one of Ben-
tinck's secretaries.
'*'*'"?! Rl
'
MARY II. 211
Compton bishop of London. The usual supporters, the

bishopsof Durham and of Bath and \\ s, were likewise
absent : one was infirm, the other said " he would not
come." Altogether, it was a coronation completely out of
sorts. Something new and extraordinary happened in every
part of it, and ever and anon fresh tidings respecting the
progress of James II. in Ireland were discussed between
the parties most concerned. Queen Mary looked hot and

flushed, and being commiserated by her sister, made that
well-known rejoinder, "A crown, sister, is not so heavy

as it appears.*'
The additional length of the service, owing to the part-

nership regality and the interruptions occasioned by the
absence of the cash for the offering, caused such delay, that
the crovm was not set on the head of the queen until four
o'clock.'' The coronation-banquet was in Westminster-hall.

The story goes, that the challenge, when given, was ac-
cepted; for when Dymoke flung down the glove, an old
woman upon crutches hobbled out of the crowd, picked it
up, and retreated with singular agility, leaving a lady's glove
iu its place, in which was an answer to the challenge, time li

and place being appointed in Hyde-park. It is certain that
some incident of an extraordinary kind connected with the
usual challenge of the champion took place, for Lamberty
says, " When the time arrived for the entrance of the
champion, minute passed after minute. At last two hours
wore away; the pause in the high ceremonial began to be
alarming, and promised to be still more awkward than that
in the morning. Sir Charles Dymoke at last made his
entrance in the dusk, almost in the dark : he was the son
of James II.'s champion. He made his challenge in the
name of our sovereign lord and lady, William and Mary.
I heard the sound of his gauntlet when he flung it on the
ground, but as the light in Westminster-hall had utterly
failed, no person could distinguish. ?«;Aa/ was done." The
circiHnstances of the challenge are thus proved by Lamberty
to have been favourable enough for the adventure pre-
' Oldmkon's History of the Stuarts. » Lamberty.
212 MARY 11.
served by tradition. "The banquet," he says, "had not

been lighted up," and the long delay of the challenge of
the champion made it past eij^ht o'clock before the king and
queen retired from Westminster-hall.
A stalwart champion, who, by his attitudes, seemed an
excellent swordsman, was observed to pace up and down the
appointed spot in Hyde-park from two to four the next dav.
The Jacobite Walk' in the park was probably the scene of
this bravado, and had the champion accepted the challenge,
a general engagement might have ensued. Dymoko, how-
ever, did not appear to maintain his own defiance, and the
champion of James II. went his way unscathed for his
boldness.'^ This incident hus been told as a gossip's talc
pertaining to every coronaiijn in the last century which
took place while an heir of James II existed. Sir Walter
Scott has made use of it romance of Rcdgauntht.
in his
If it ever took place, it must have been at the coronation
of William III. and Mary II. The times were most un-
settled ; half the people considered them usurpers, and the
other half fully expected the return of James II., which

perhaps encoura\|,?d the adventure.
Next day the house of commons in a full body walked
from Westminster to the Banqueting-house, where they
attended their majesties to congratulate them on their co-
ronation, in a speech which we do not inflict on our readers
at length, but merely quote the concluding line, whicli
seems to allude to the altered coronation-oath, " that —
the lustre of their deeds might eclipse their predecessors,
so that the English should no longer date their laws and
liberties from Saint Edward the Confessor's days, but from
those of William and Mary." To this address the queen
did not reply. Her lord and master briefly answered, "that
by God's assistance they both hoped to render them shortly
^
a flourishing people."
The sovereignty of Scotland was assumed by Mary and
her consort, without a trace of coronation ceremonial. In
• That there was such a promenade, we learn by Vernon's letter to the duke
of Shrewsbury, vol. i. p. 89. ^ Lord Dartmouth's Notes.
• White Kennet's History of England.

MARY II. i19
tnith, commissioners couid not get at the Scot ^li

the
regalia, was safe in Edinburgli-castlc, held out by Ue
as it i
duke of Gordon for James II. The earl of Argyk', sir

James Montgomery, and sir John Dalrymple of Stair, were
the commissioners sent by post from the convention' of the
estates of Scotland to offer them the northern sovereignty, »
assisted by a procession of those of the Scotch nobility in

'l
London who could be induced to attend. Mary and "Wil-

liam entered the Banqueting-house, Whitehall, in state. i
A sword was carried before them by lord Cai'dross they :
seated themselves on a throne under a rich canopy. The

commissioners being introduced by sir Charles Cottrell,
the earl of Argyle prefaced his presentation of the letter \
from the estates with a speech, affirming that the king and
queen had been called to the Scottish throne by the unani- i
mous votes of the senate. But in reality, Dundee and all

.1 1
the unequivocal friends of James II. had left the house of
convention after almost fighting a battle there, and had

floAvn to arms before the vote was passed.
The Scottish coronation-oath was tendered to the king

and qaeen. Lord Argyle pronounced it distinctly, word by
word, and Mary as well as William repeated it after him,
1
holding up their right hands, according to the custom of

taking oaths in In the course of the recital
Scotland.
occurred the words, " And we
shall be careful to root out
all heretics.'' Here king William interrupted the earl of
Argyle, and said, " If this means any sort of persecution,
I will not take the oath." The commissioner replied, " It
was not meant in any such sense;" and the voices of the
king and his consort again proceeded in unison. Before
the signature, the earl of Argyle explained to their majes-
1
tieSj that " obstinate heretics by the law of Scotland can

1
only be denounced and outlawed, and
moveable goods
their
confiscated." And this interpretation appearing to imply
" no persecution" in the eyes of William and his consort,
' The whole scene and docnraents are given from the official account of the
transactiou, published in Edinburgh, May 24, 1689 j re-edited by J. Malcolm,
1811.
214 MARY II.
the ceremonial was completed, each signing the deed. The

oath of allegiance to William and Mary was remarkable for
its simplicity. It ran thus " I do promise and swear, that
:
I will he faithful and bear true allegiance to their majesties

king William and queen Mary. So help me God." When '
the coronation was over, the people expected to see the king
take the queen in grand state to the houses of parliament;
strange to say, although elected by them to the regal diadem
of England, her majesty never attained the privilege of
meeting her constituents assembled. The Gazette cnurac-
rates king William^s frequent visits to parliament, both before
and after the coronation of himself and Mary.'^ His custom
was to go privately in his barge, the passage from the water-
stairs to the house of lords being lined with his Dutch
guards ; yet never, by any chance, ii3 the queen named as
his companion in these short voyages from Whitehall-stai's
to Parliament-stairs. The fact that William III. wore the
state-crown and robes in parliament almost every third day,
whenever he was in or near London, stands in odd contra-
diction to his assumed preference of simplicity, and scorn of
royal magnificence. Perhaps he had satiated himself thus
early in his reign with the coveted externals of majesty, and
found no permanent satisfaction in their use. His queen,
however, had no chance of coming to the same conclusion,
for she never was permitted to have any communication with
her parliament excepting by means of deputations, which
carried up addresses to her; and her usual mode of receiving
them was, seated by her husband's side, in that fatal Ban-
queting-hall where the last tragic scene in the life of her
hapless grandsire, Charles I., had been performed, and which
was literally stained with his blood. When it is remembered
how sadly and solemnly Mary had been accustomed from
early infancy to observe the anniversary of that martyrdom j
how she had been taught to raise her little hands in prayer;
how she had seen her father and mother, in mourning gai'b
• Parliamentary Debates, vol. ii. p. 263.
* The Gazette was, even at that period, formally recognised as an official
goveiimient organ.
MARY II. 216
and bitter sorrow, seclude themselves with all their children
and housuhold, and pass the 3()th of January in tears and

supplications to Heaven,' it seems passing strange that she
could uliake oft' her early impressions so far as to endure

such receptions, especially as it has been shown that her
customary observance of that day of sad remembrances had
Lcen rudely broken by her hus})and.*
The internal state of the Banqueting-room, before it was
consecrated in the reign of Anne as a chapel, is described by
a foreigner a few years previously. The Italian secretary
of Cosmo grand-duke of Tuscany, thus wrote of it
III.,
"Above a door opposite to the throne is a statue in alto

relievo of Charles I., whose majestic mien saddens the
spectator by the remembrance of the tragedy which took
place in this very room. On the threshold of the window

there are still to be seen drops of blood, which fell when
that enormity was committed: they cannot be obliterated,
though efforts have been made to do so.*'^

A remarkable feature in the state-documents of William
and Mary, was the perpetual iteration of allusions to the
reign of their dear uncle, Charles II. This peculiarity was
not lost on the literary Jacobites who lurked in court ; the
queen was accordingly thus greeted in one of their frequent

pasquinades :
" Your royal uncle you are pleased to own.

But royal father, it should seem, you've none.
A dainty mushrcKnii, without flesli or bone.
We dare not call you, for it seems you are
Great Charles' niece, o' the royal character,
Great James's daughter too, we thought you were.
That you a father had you have forgot.
Or would have people think that he was not
The very sound of royal James's nsune
As livhig king, adds to his daughter's shame.
The princess Mary would not have it known.
That shfrcan sit upon king James's tlu-one !"*
The solemn entry of the Dutch ambassadors, being Odyke,

Dyckvelt, and four others, to congratulate the king and
Diary of Henry earl of Clarendon.
•
* D'Avaux' Ambassades, as quoted in the preceding chapters,
a Travels
of Cosmo III. in England, 1G69, p. 368.
' Selected abstract from sir Robert Strange's MSS= See pro<:lamationa in
Macpberson'a Stuart Papers.
I*
216 MARY 11.
queen on their coronation, took place at the end of May.

On Tower, the royal state-carriages
their landing at the
came for them, both those of the king and queen, attended
by sixteen pages and sixty running footmen in splendid
liveries. The Dutchmen were then brought to Cleveland.
house, St. James's, where they received messages of welcome
from the king by lord Comwallis, from the queen by sir
l^dward Villiers, her master of horse. Lord Cornbury
Brought compliments from prince George, and the princess
Anne sent colonel Sands on the same errand.'
Dissension very soon ensued between the princess Anne
and her sister the queen, " partly arising," observes lady Marl-
borough, " from the conviction of William III., that the
princess and her husband, prince George of Denmark, had
been of more use than they were ever like to be again, and
partly from the different humours of the two sisters. Que^n
Mary soon grew weary of any body who would not talk a
great deal; and the princess Anne was so silent, that she
rarely spoke excepting to ask a question." Whilst giving
the world these characteristics of the royal sisters, the Avriter
indulges in an enthusiastic flow of self-praise, because she,
" by earnest representations, kept her mistress from quan-el-

ling with the new queen. It was impossible for any body to
labour more than I did to keep the two sisters in perfect uni-
son and friendship, thinking it best for them not to (juarrel
when their true interest and safety were jointly concerned to
support the revolution." There were likewise other interests
at stake; for, if we may believe the uncle of the queen and
princess, strong bribes had been promised to this person and
her husbaiul,'^ for the service of inducing the princess Anne
to give precedence to her brother-in-lav in the reversionary
succession.
Great rewards had been distributed at the coronation
among the promoters of the revolution, especially those
who held situations in the households of either Mary or
» Gazette, May 27, 1689.

* Likewise, Sheffield duke of Buckingham's Narrative of the Revolution, vol,
ii. p. 87. This accomplished noble deserves belief, l)ecau8e, like Clareudou, lie
was in that revolution mistauied by bribes, self-interest, or treachery.
r<SiJ
%
MARY ir. 217
Anne. Lord Churchill received the title of earl of Marl-

borough, and a rich income arising from court places and ;
from this time his wife, whose domination over the mind
of the princess Anne rendered her the ruler of her for-

tunes and the leading spirit of her history, will be known
by the name of lady Marlborough. But, to the infinite
consternation of the princess Anne, she discovered that,
whatsoever golden harvests other agents of the revolution
liad herself, so far from having bettered her
reaped, she
condition, was likely to be deprived of the certain and
liberal income which had been settled on her by her in-
dulgent sire. It had been whispered to her that king

William, when examining the treasury-lists, had said to
lord Godolphin, "that he was astonished to think how it
was possible for the princess Anne to spend her revenue

of thirty thousand pounds per annum?"' As Anne had
'i
been malcontent with her father for not adding ten thou- !
sand pounds to this allowance, it may be supposed that

the observation of her brother-in-law created some alarm
in her mind.
It had been discussed in the royal circle, that it was
quite a novelty for any junior branch of the royal family
to an independent revenue. These were ominous
receive
hints for who had actually yielded her
the princess Anne,
place in the succession to her brother-in-law on the promise
of a large addition to her revenue. So fcr from that promise

being realized, king William seemed to consider that a sepa-
rate table ought not to be allowed to any cadet branches
of royalty. Certainly the king's conduct at his own table

was not of that courtly polish which would render a
domestication at his board during life a very pleasant anti-
cipation. "I could," says lady Marlborough, who speaks
as an eye-witness, " fill many sheets with the brutalities
that were done to the princess in this reign. William III,
was, indeed, so ill-natured, and so little polished by edu-
cation, that neither in great things nor in small had he
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 32. The amount was really
32,000^. allowed by Jamea II., as a foregohig document has shown.
•
4
218 MARY II.
the manners of a gentleman. I give an instance of liig

worse than vulgar behaviour at his own table^ when the
princess dined with him. It was the beginning of his
reign, and some weeks before the princess was put to bed
of the duke of Gloucester. There happened to be just
before her a plate of green peas, the first that had been
seen that year. The king, without offering the princess the
least share of them, drew the plate before him, and devoured
them all. Whether he off'ered any to the queen, I cannot
say, but he might have done that safely enough, for he knew
she durst not touch one. The princess Anno confessed,
when she came home, that she had so much mind for the
peas that she was afraid to look at them, and yet could
hardly keep her eyes off" them." ^ The situation of the
princess Anne rendered disappointment in such cranngs
somewhat dangerous.
Assuredly hospitality was not among the royal virtues on
the throne when the king dined at St. James's-palace, no
:
one was permitted to eat with him but the marshal Schom-
berg, the general of the foreign troops, and some Dutch
officers. If any English noblemen came in, according to
their national custom during the royal dinner, they stood
behind William's chair, and never a word did the monarch
speak to them nor were they ever invited to sit down to
;
eat, a courtesy common in such cases. So there did the

haughty English stand, humbled and neglected witnesses
of the meal of the Dutchmen, who evidently deemed them-
selves their conquerors. The earl of Marlborough had, as an
aide-de-camp, a young noble cadet named Dillon, who had
formed a great intimacy with Arnold van Keppel, the hand-
some page and favourite of the Dutch king. These boys
were usually present at the royal dinners. Dillon observed
to Keppel, " that he had been present at several of them
before he heard the king utter one word to any body ;" o"d
asked, "Does your master ever speak?" —
"Oh, yes,' re-
plied the young favourite; "he talks fast enough at night
> Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 115: likewise Echord. in ]\\s
History of England.
*•
MARY II 219
over his when he has none about him but his Dutch
bottle,
friends." His bottle was not one that could be produced

'
before the proud English magnates, who were too apt to
commit excess with champagne or burgundy, but they

scorned Hollands-gin. Lady Marlborough sent for young
Dillon, and questioned him on what he saw and heard at
the king's table. The boy told the truth, which was in all
probability what her spouse did not; he said, "that he
never saw any man treated with such neglect and con-
tempt as lord Marlborough."—" It is just what he de-

serves," who had cer-
exclaimed the gracious helpmate,
tainly led awkward situation ; " he should have
him into this
considered how much better he was off some months ago."
This speech marks the earliest period that can be traced of
enmity expressed by the favourite of the princess Anne

towards the sovereign of the revolution. The weak intel-
lect of the princess followed the lead of her ruler as a
matter of course. From the same source, —the gossiping
of the two pages, Keppel and Dillon, king William was
reported to have said, " that lord Marlborough had the
best talents for war of any one in England ; but he was a r ir
vile man, and though he had himself profited by his trea-

sons, he abhorred ^ William really acted
the traitor."
he appointed Marlborough to
according to this idea, for
the command of the English troops sent to Holland to
fillthe place of Dutch forces kept to awe the Enghsh,

thus removing him, for some months, jfrom communication
with the factions fermenting at court.

Other causes of discord had arisen between the queen and
her sister. They were, it is true, of an undignified nature,
and resembled more the petty bickerings of lodgers in hum-
ble dwellings, than aspirants for royal dignity in palaces.
When the changes took place at the revolution, Anne was,
with her favourite, very vigilant to secure all that could '^.
accrue for their personal convenience. They had fixed their

desires on those splendid apartments at Whitehall which had
' Carte Papers, printed by Macpherson. Stixart Papers, vol. i. p. 282.
« Ibid.
220 MAEY II.
been built, rebuilt, and fitted up several times by Charles II.
to indulge the luxury of the duchess of Portsmouth. This

grant king William had promised Anne before the arrival
of her sister. When queen Mary was settled at Whitehall

the earl of Devonshire, who had a great taste for balls, made
interest with her majesty to be put in possession of thorn
declaring "that these apartments were the best in England
for dancing." The princess averred, " that she desired these
apartments because of their easy access and vicinity to those
of the queen,'' and that " she was ready to give up the Cock-
pit in exchange for them.'' Unfortunately, queen Mary
happened to say, " she would consult the earl of Devonshire
on the subject," which gave her sister high displeasure.
The princess sullenly observed, " whichever way he decided,
she would not take the earl of Devonshire's leavings." '
It
appears that king William interposed his authority that the
princess Anne might have the benefit of his promise, and she
remained in full possession of the Cockpit, and of these
coveted apartments as well.The next acquisition desired

by the princess Anne was the palace of Richmond. She
said " that she loved it in her infancy, and^ the air agreed
with her." Richmond had been, since the time of Henry
VII., the seat of the heir to the crown, a fact which did not
lessen its charms in the eyes of the princess Anne. But
lady Villiers, the deceased governess of the princess, had
had a lease of the palace, and madame Puissars, one of her
daughters, having obtained the reversion, refused to yield
it to the heiress of the throne. The mistress of TVilliam
III., Elizabeth Villiers, and the arrogant favourite of the
princess Anne, declared war against each other in the

fierce
course of the controversy; but the matter ended by the
triumph of the Villiers' alliance.'^ From that hour the
hostility became permanent in the minds of the royal sis-
ters, although for some time their mutual heart-burnings
rested smouldering under the semblance of kindness.

In June 1680, several skirmishes had taken place between
the Williamite army in Ireland and the troops of James II.
'
* Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborougli. * Ibid.
MARY II. 221
Blood had flowed; soldiers, in the name of the queen and

husband, were constantly arrayed against the life of her
father, and fresh reports were every day raised that king
James was kiUed, taken, or had died of fatigue or grief.

Just as these agitating rumours were the most rife in
London, king William came for a few days to hold privy
councils at St. James's-palace, and his queen took that oppor-
tunity of recreating herself with seeing a play. There was
but one play which had been forbidden to be acted by
James II., and this his daughter particularly desired to see
performed ; it was the Spanish Friar, by Dryden, interdicted
because its licentious comic scenes held up one of the Roman
church to ridicule. It deserved banishment altogether for

its sins against general decorum. The queen had probably
never read the drama; for, instead of finding, as she hoped,
passages which would tell severely against her father, she
found that the tragic part of the plot seemed as if it had

been written for her own especial castigation. Perhaps the
great enmity she ever manifested against Dryden arose from
some vague idea that he had purposely caused the vexation

she endured that night. " The only time," wrote her friend
Nottingham,* " that her majesty gave herself the diversion
of a play, has furnished the town with discourse for a month.
Some unlucky expressions put her in disorder, and forced
her to hold up her fan, often look behind her, and call for
her palatine, [pelerine,] hood, or any thing she could con-
trive to women. It so happened that every
speak of to her
speech in that come home to her, as there
play seemed to
was a strong report about town that her father James II. was
dead in Ireland; and whenever any thing applicable was said,
every one in the pit turned their heads over their shoulder?,
and directed their looks most pointedly at her." Nor could
this be wondered at ; for a daughter sitting to see a play
acted which was too free for the morals of that age, at the
'
Aukâph letter, WTitten by Daniel Finch, lord Nottingham, dated June
1689, given by Dr. Percy to sir John Dalrymple ; see liis Appendix, p. 78. It is
likewise printed by Dr. Bircli. Nottingham was at that time the queen's confi-
dential adviser, and soon afterwards her loi'd chamberlain. He had not at this
period made up Ida mind whether the revolutionary clumges would be pcrmancat.
n^piw
I 222 MARY II.
moment when reports were prevalent that her own father

was dead, was indeed a sight to be gazed upon witj^ con-
sternation.
The English public, notwithstanding all that partisans may
do or say, always feel rightly in su«jjbs; cases, and they took
care that the queen should be conscious of that feeling.

" Twenty things were which were wrested by the audi-
said,
ence to her confusion. When it was uttered on the stase
' 'Tis observed at court who weeps, and who wears black
for good king Sancho's death,* the words were made to come
home to her. Again, when the queen of Arragon is going
in procession, it is said, ' She usurps the throne, keeps the
old king in prison, and at the same time is praying for a
blessing on her army.' Another speech occurred, 'Can I
seem pleased to see my royal master murdered, his crown
usurped, a distaff on his throne? What right has t,iis
queen but lawless force?' The observations then made fur-
nished the town with talk till something else happened,
which gave as much occasion of discourse." The historical
'
scene above narrated, which really may be cited as part of a

drama performed by the spectators of a comedy, receives no
little corroboration by a manuscript entry at the lord cham-
berlain's office, noting that, just at this period, Mrs. Betterton

received a donation for performing in the Spanish Friar by
the queen's command. Another play was ordered by the
queen, to which she came not. Most likely king William

(ft
!-'l4
himself had commanded the queen's absence, since she had
so far forgotten her political position as to order the cavaher
comedy of The Committee, and he or his ministers foresaw
some mortifying manifestation of popular feeling during its
representation. In fact, such was the case, as recorded by
the pen of Lamberty, the secretary of his prime-minister,
Bentinck. This writer says, " that when the roundheads
tender the oath of the commouwcath to the loyal colonels,
Blunt and Careless, those cavaliers reply, ' Why should we

take it, when the king will be restored in a few days?' When
the passage occurred, the pit rose simultaneously, and gave
> Autograph letter, by Daniel Finch, lord Nottingham.
r^'l
MARY II. 223
three rounds of applause." The popular allusion pointed at
the oath just tendered at the coronation of William and

Mary.
The master of the revels, from the time of those memor-
able performances, was a harassed and distressed man, his
duty leading him to weigh every word on the stage, and to
examine in all possible lights the action, lest the perverse
public should draw therefrom any allusion to the queen*
father in the plays permitted to be performed. Shakspeare
was viewed with peculiar suspicion, for the inquisition ex-
tern d not only to new
but to those stamped with
plays,
the King Lear was con-
admiration of several generations.
demned root and branch; no one could wonder at that
circumstance, but, alas the master of the revels flew upon
!
Richard the Third, when

it was afterwards revived at a
great and docked off unmercifully
expense, a whole act.
The players lamented piteously, and begged " that a few
speeches rf Shakspeare might be restored to them, only to
make the remaining four acts intelligible." — *' Not one,"
replied the director of the diversions of royalty. At last the
distressed manager ventured to ask the reason wherefore the
play of Richard the Third was alarming to the court ? " Be-
cause,." replied the great man, " the death of Henry VI.
will remind the people of king James II., now living in
France," ' —a speech which proves that bulls are not limited
to Irish eloquence.
ii:i:iij; i<
The theatre at which queen Mary witnessed the represen-
tation of the Spanish Friar, was, in all probability, that called
'the queen^s theatre,' Dorset-gardens.^ It was evident that
kiug William wished her to limit her theatrical diversions to
' CoUey Gibber's Apology, p. 59. The master of the revels, according to
CoUey Gibber, is the inferior officer of the lord chamberlain.
^ Dorset-garden theatre, as early as Feb. 1688-9, is called in the London
Gazette tlie Queen's Theatre. It was situated near Salisbury-square, Fleet-
street. The once belonged to the see of Salisbury, from winch it had been
site
reft as a gift to the Sackvilles, earls of Dorset, relatives to queen Elizabeth by
Anne Boleyn. The theatre itself is said to have lieen a ccmventual hall. Queen
Mary wituossed new plays by Tom D'Urfey, 1692 and 1694, performed, as the
tJtle-pago avers, at her theatre in Dorset-garden. After her death, the actors
224 MARY II.
the plays performed at the palaces. Some historical lines

were written about the same period, from which may be de-
duced the nervous anxiety manifested by queen Mary and
her master of the revels concerning Shakspeare's plainly
expressed feeling regarding right and wrong.
" Oh, we have heard that impious sons before
Rebelled for crowns their royal parents wore j
But of unnatural daughters rarely hear,
Save these of hapless James, and those of ancient Lear.
Yet worse than cruel, scornftU Goneril, thou
She took but what her monarch did allow.
But thou, more impious, robliest thy father's brow !">
After such an exhortation, few persons can wonder that the
magnificent tragedy of Lear was viewed by Mary's theatrical
critic as a Jacobitical libel.
Lord Nottingham, in his news-letter descriptive of the

I movements of his royal lady at this juncture, continues to
— " Her majesty, being disappointed of her seccnd
narrate,
play, amused herself with other diversions. She dined at
Mrs. Graden's, the famous woman in the hall,'^ that sells
fine ribbons and head-dresses. From thence she went to
Mrs. Ferguson's, to De Vett's, and other Indian houses, but
not to Mrs. Potter's, though in her way. Mrs. Potter said,
' that she might as well have hoped for that honour as others,
considering that the whole design of bringing in queen Mary

and king William was hatched at her house / but it seems,
that since my lord Devonshire has got Mrs. Potter to be
laundress, she has nothad much countenance of the queen."

These tours through the curiosity-shops, then called
Indian houses, were rather more respectable than the next
freak queen Mary thought fit to indulge in. The queen
had heard that Mrs. Wise, a famous fortune-teller, had
prophesied that king James II. should be restored, and
that the duke of Norfolk should lose his head. "The
last," adds lord Nottingham, in comment, " I suppose will
be the natural consequence of the first." Her majesty
> MS. in possession of lady Strange. Few of the relics in this valuable
collection of historical songs and poems are later than the year 1692.
' Either Westminster-hall or Exeter-Change, which were two bazaars at that
time.
I /
MARY II. 225
went in person to the fortune-teller, to hear what she had

to say regarding her fiiture destiny, —probably, to know if
report had snoken truly, and whether she might reekon her
hapless siic among the dead. Queen Mary took this dis-
reputable step without obtaining the gratification of her
profane curiosity. The witch- woman was a perverse Jacobite,
as may be supposed from the tenour of her prophecies, and
positively refused to read futurity for her majesty.' King

William was completely incensed at the queen's proceed-
ings; his reprimand was not only severe, but public.

Whether the visit to the fortune-teller ever came to his
ears is wrath was particularly excited by
doubtful, but his
the dinner at Mrs. Graden's. In terms not to be repeated
here, (but which proved that his majesty, although a Dutch-
man, was a proficient in the English vulgar tongue,) he
observed to the queen, that he heard "she had dined at
fl house of ill repute ;" and added, with some little humour,
that " the next time she went to such a place, he thought
it was only proper that he should be of the party.'' The

queen replied, in excuse, " that the late queen [Mary
Beatrice] had done the same." The king retorted, "whether
she meant to make her an example ?" " More was said," — t-
concludes lord Nottingham, "than ever was heard before;
but it was bovne like a good wife, who leaves all to the
direction of the king, who amuses herself with walking six
or seven miles every day, with looking after her buildings,
making of fringe, and such like innocent things." The

queen's cmiosity was by no means restrained by her hus-
band's reproof, rude as it was, for she afterwards went to
visit entertainment on the Thames called 'the

a place of
Folly,' accompanied by some of her suite. According to
the description of a very coarse delineator of London, her
contemporary, this floating ark of low dissipation well de-

served its name, or even a worse one.'^
"The censures of the town," wrote lord Nottingham,

"were loud on the queen's utter absence of feeling in regard
to her father." Her conduct provoked another fierce satire,
xiuiu i.tiutiuiguaiu «i itiLier. - vv aru a riccuru ui liouuou.
VOL. VII. Q
— — ——
! ;
220 MAKY TI.
which was handed about in manuscript araonj; the coffiT-

houses, whereDry den and the literati of the day, and the
wits of the court, did congregate. In lines of great power,
portraits were drawn of queen Mary and the princess Anne,
as the elder and the younger Tullia :
" In time when princea cancelled nature's law,

In ' Declarations ' • which themselves did draw
When children used their j)arentH to disown,
And gnawe<l their way like vipers to a crown
* # * # *
The king removetl, the assembled states thought fit
That Tarcpiin in the vacant throne should sit.

Voted him regnant in the senate-house,
And with an empty name endowed his sjOTuse,
That elder Tullia, who some authors feign,
Drove o'er her father's trembling corpse a wain ;
But she, more guilty, numerous wains did drive.
To crush her father and her king alive.
And in remembrance of his hastened fall.
Resolved to institute a weekly ball
She, jolly glutton, grew in bulk and chin.
Feasted in rapine, and enjoyed her sin j
Yet when she drank cool tea in liberal sups.
The sobbing dame was maudlin in her cups."
As for Marlborough, his treachery to his master is dis-
cussed with a pen of fire, and a sketch added of his wife :—
" His haughty female who, as folks declare.

Did always toss proud nostrils to the air.
Was to the younger Tullia- governess.
And did attend her when, in borrowed dress.
She fled by night from TuUius in distress j
A daughter who hy letters hrottght his Joes,
And used all arts her father to depose,
A father always generously bent.
So kind, that he her wishes would prevent."
The author of this severe satire must have been intimately

acquainted with the interior history of the royal family,
since the treacherous letter written by Anne at the same

time with that affected one of duty left on her table, slept
in the obscurity of William III/s private box at Kensington
till George III. opened it to sir John Dalrymple even now :
it is scarcely known. This, and the curious coincidence
* The "Declaration" is here alluded to, disseminated by the prince of

Orange 'at his landing. In it he abjured all intention of aiming at the crowii.
* Thfi nrinr^Rs Anne.
MARY II. 227
between the comparison of the family of Tullius made by

James II. whose manuscript memoirs were then
himself,
not only unpublished but known to few, shows that the
writer of this extraordinary poem must have been deeper
in tlic hidden archives of the royal family than the authors
to v.'hom it is severally attributed, Dry den or Mainwaring,

could possibly be.
Perhaps count Hamilton, who had lingered at the court

of England in hopes of doing some mischief in behalf of his
master, was the author. Hamilton was a favourite of queen
Mary II., who found him among her courtiers at her acces-
sion : he was her relative by descent from the royal line of
Stuart. He aflccted great zeal for lier interest, and under-
took, with the gayest air in the world, to induce lord Tyr-
connel, the lord-lieutenant, (who had married his brother's
widow, Frances Jennings,) to give up Ireland into the hands
of king William. Lord Clarendon, who had lately been
lord-lieutenant and was more of a patriot than a
there,
partisan, alarmed at the peril of the Protestant community,
overcame his abhorrence for William sufficiently to offer his
assistance in obtaining the allegiance of the Irish without
bloodshed. The newly elected sovereigns treated the only
honest who came in contact with them with con-
statesman
tumely, being enraged that the oath he had sworn to his
royal brother-in-law prevented him from taking another to
his niece on the throne, or to her husband. The advice of

the gay deceiver, Hamilton, (although, if he had a religion,
he was of the church of Rome) was preferred, and oft' he
went, as plenipotentiary, to confer with Tyrconnel. The
way in which he performed his mission was, by persuading
Tyreonnel to hold out the kingdom for James II. When
the news came of the part acted by Hamilton, the heir of
sir WiUiam Temple, who had accepted the office of secretary
of state, and had advised the measure, drowned himself at
London-bridge, and the court remained in consternation.

Suicide had become hideously prevalent in England at the
end of the seventeenth century.

While queen Mary was in London, endeavouring to
Q 2
i
228 MAiiY rr.
revive tlio spii-it of fijaicty wliu^li had for cvor departed

from Whitcliidl, her nistor rciiiiiiiicid at ilaiiniton.C'ourt
where slie awaited her aceoucihemeut. Wheniwer the ])riii.
CC88 Anne went abroad, her extraordinary flûn! exciitcd

astoiiishiuent. Kvelyii seemed to behold her witii no little
consternation, and thus described her in June UW!):-—
"Tiie princess Anne of Dennuirk is so monstrously swollen
that it is (h)id)ted tliat her state; may prove oidy a violent
tympany, so tliat the imhappy family of tin; Stuarts seems
to be extinjifuislun}^. Then wliat fôvernment is hkely to
be set up is unknown, whetlK!r regal or by election, the
republicans and from the church of England
dissenters
1 II looking that way." Although the whole hopes of the

country were fixed on the expected oflspring of Anue
aiid she Avas thus rendered in some degree a person of
more importance than cither of the sovereigns, her pccu-
niary anxieties continued and if the narrative of her fa-
;
vourite nuiy be credited, she did not receive a single pay-

ment of money throughout the year 1G89, or rather, from
the time of the d(;parture of her father from England.
Tlie queen took up her residence at Hampton-Court, per-
manently for the vsummer, in the commencement of July.
The manner of life led there by her ami her spouse is dimly
remembered by tradition. When the king used to walk witli
her across the Isf Us and courts of that anticpie palace, he
never gave the [ueen his arm, but hung on hers, and the
difference of their size and stature almost provoked risibi-
lity. The king every day seemed to grow smaller and leaner.
beneath the pressure of the cares which his three crowns had
brought im whilst Mary, luxuriating in her native air and
I
;
the pleasures of her English palaces, seemed to increase in

bulk every hour. She took a great deal of exercise, but did
not try abstinence as a means of reducing her tendency to
obesity. She used to ])romenade, at a great pace, up and
down tlie long straight walk under the wall of Hampton-
Court, nearly opposite to the Toy. As her majesty was
attended by her Dutch maids of honour, or English ladies
naturalized in Holland, the common people who gazed on
MAllY II. 220
their forcifjn ^nrh and mien luimcd tliis jjronuniadc " Frow-
walk." It is now deeply shadowed wich enormous (dms
and cliestnuts, the fVoj^s from tlic nei^hboiirinf^ Thames, to
wliich it shints, oeeasionally ehoosin<^ to ri'create themselves
there, and t}"i name of Frow-walk is now lost in that of
Fro;;-\vulk.
In the first year of queen Mary's nnj^n, most of licr

household were Duteh ; a few of tlio liij^her offices were,
perhiips, fîvcn to En^dish. Her majesty's chamberlain was
lord AViltshire; her vice-ehand)erlain, "Jack Howe," (fa-
miliarly so called); her equerry, sir Edward Villiers; her
first and mistress of her robes, the countess of Derby;
lady
her ladies of honour, Mrs. Mordaunt and Mrs. Forster:
these seem to have been all the English of her household.
Madame Stii'um, who had accompanied her majesty from

Holland, returned in great dudgeon, because she could not
be her first lady in England,*
The daily routine of the life of William and Mary is only
preserved in s(juibs and lampoons among these manu-

;
scripts, detestable as they are in construction and metre,

some lost traits arc found.
" Hampton-Court Life,' in 1689.
" Mr. Dean suys pi'iico with a n \ crciul face,
' Make rixmi !' cries sir Tlionias Duppa;'
Then Ik-iitinck n])-lucks liLs king in a l)ox,
And you see him no more until sup^wr."
The supper took place at half-past nine; by half-past ten,

royalty and the royal household were snoring. If queen
Mary had to write a letter or despatch at eleven at night,
she could not keep her eyes open. The regal dinner-hour
was half-past one, or two at the latest, and breakfast was at
au hour virtuously early.
Queen Mary, like every one descended from lord chan-
cellor Clarendon, with the exception, perhaps, of her uncle,
' Lord-chanihcrlain's books, and Liniiberty.

' Inodited MS, from tlie earl of Oxford's collection of state iXK?ms : Lans-
downe Papers, No. 852, p. 195.
' Sir T. Duppa's monument, at Westminster -abbey, notices that he was
gentlemau-uiiher to king William.
230 MAEY II.
Henry earl of Clarendon, indulged in eating rather more

than did her good: her enemies accused her of liking
strong potations. The elegance of her figure was injured
by a tendency to rapid increase, on which the satires and
lampoons of her political opponents did not fail to dwell.
She was scarcely twenty-eight years of age when she became
queen of England, but her nymph-like beauty of fact and
form was amplified into the comeliness of a tall, stout
woman. Among the valuable collections of colonel Brad-
dyll, at Conishead Priory, Lancashire, was preserved a very
fine miniature of William III., delicately executed in pen-
and-ink etching. It is a small oval, laid on a background
of white satin, surrounded with a wreath of laurel, embroi-
dered in outline tracery in his royal consort's hair, sur-
mounted with the crown-royal. The frame is of wood,

curiously carved and gilded, ard at the foot is a circilar
medallion, radiated and enclosed in the riband of the Gar-
ter,containing also, under a fair crystal, queen Mary's hair,
which is of a pale brown colour, and of aft extremely fine
and silky texture. At the back of the picture queen Maiy
has inscribed on a slip of vellum, with her own hand, " i\Ty
haire, cut ofi^ March y^ 5th, 1688." Under the royal hvdo.
graph is written, " Queen Mary's hair and writing."

" Hampton-Court, June 39th. On the 28th instant, the
baron de Leyenberg, envoy-extraordinary from the king of
Sweden, had a public audience of the king, and on the 30th,
of the queen, to notify the death of the queen Christiua.'
He had afterwards audience, on the same occasion, of their
royal highnesses the prince and princess of Denmark, being

conducted by sir Charles Cottrell, master of the ceremonies."
The princess Anne Avas, at this time, living dependent on
the bounty of her sister and brother-in-law, at Hampton-
Court. Here she was treated, it is true, as princess, but
was forced to owe to them the supply of the very bread she
ate at their table.

' The queen of Sweden, wliose death was thus formally annoi.nced at the
British court, was the eccentric Christina, who had long abdicated her tliroiie,
and lived a.«t a IvoiiiaU-catuoUc, under the protection of the pope, at Rome.
MARY II. 231
The Gazette announced,, " July 2 ith. This morning, about

four o'clock, her royal highness the princess Anne of Den-
mark was safely delivered of a son, at Hampton-Court.

Queen Mary was present the whole time, about tliree hours
jind with most of the persons of quality about the
the king,
coui't,came into her royal highnesses bedchamber before she
was delivered. Her royal highness and the young prince
are very well, to the great satisfaction of their majesties and
the joy of the whole court, as it will, doubtless, be of the
whole kingdom." The existence of an heir to the throne,

who would be assuredly educated in Protestant principles,
was deemed by the queen to be the best security against
the restoration of the Roman-catholic line of Stuart. The

infant was baptized William, in Hampton-Court chapel.
The king and queen stood sponsors they proclaimed him
:
duke of Gloucester thesame day, and were generally under-

stood to regard him as their adopted son. He was not
created duke of Gloucester, because his mother considered
that title as dreadfully unlucky.^

The queen paid great attention to her sister during a
long period of weakness and ill-health. Her majesty was,
however, deeply incensed to find, even before the princess
was wholly recovered, that she was secretly making interest^
by the agency of lady Marlborough, with some members of
the house of commons, to move that an independence might
be settled on her according to promise. The large sum of
t.
six hundred thousand pound « had been voted by the com-
mons as the civil list of William and Mary, and it was then
specified that the princess Anne was to be provided for out
of it. seems extraordinary, that either the king or the
It
queen should expect that their sister could forego her unde-
fined share of this provision. One night the queen took the
princess severely to task, asking her, " What was the mean-
ing of the proceedings in the house of commons?" Anne

replied, that " she heard her friends there wished to move
that she had some settlement." The queen replied hastily,
with a most imperious air, " Friends ? Pray, what friends
> Hooper MSS.
i
232 MARY II.
have you but the king and me?"^ The queen

never men-
tioned the business again to her al'Vough they met
sister,
every night. Anne repeated it to lady Marlborough with

more anger than she had ever before beeii known to ex-
press. King William prorogued the parliament just as a
motion was about to be made, "That his majesty would
please to allow the princess Anne fifty thousand pounds out
of the civil list lately granted to him.'^ Meantime, the
princess was burdened with debt and care, and other sorrows
began to press heavily upon her.
During the first two months of the existence of the young
prince, his death was frequently expected; his size was
diminutive, and his constitution very weakly. A perpetual
change of nurses was the remedy proposed the poor infant :
seems to have been brought to the last gasp by this plan.

One day, a fine-looking young quakeress, a Mrs. Pack, came
from Kingston, with a baby of a month old at her breast
she wished to tell the princess Anne of a reme t had ;
done her children good. When the prince of L .. af k saw

her, he begged she would go to bed to the pining and sickly
heir of Great Britain, who was that evening expected to
breathe his last. The young quakeress complied the infant j
duke imbibed nourishment eagerly from her, and from that

hour his mother felt hopes of rearing him.'* The residence
of the princess Anne and her husband at Hampton-Court
with the king and queen, began to be excessively irksome to
them, and before the autumn was past, the princess sought
for a place near London, the air of which was unexcep-
tionable, for her delicate child.
King William went from Hampton-Court to Newmarket
October y§, in one day: this was considered surprising expe-
dition. He passed whole days on the race-ground, or in
hunting ; in the evenings he gambled: he lost four thousand
guineas at basset, at one sitting.^ The next morning, being
Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 29.

•
' Memoirs of William Hem-y duke of Gloucester, by Lewis Jculiins Tracts, :
British Museum.
' Lamberty. Ho was probably present, being in the service of Bentinck,
. •/ .,-
. ' . .
r
MARY II. 233
in a state of great exasperation, he gave a gentleman a

stroke him on the race-
with his horsewhip, for riding before
(rround. The English were not used to such manners ; the
proceeding M'âs satirized by a bon-mot, declaring "that it
was the only blow he had struck for supremacy in his
kingdoms." His majesty thought fit, in his homeward
progress,to pay a visit to Cambridge. There he was re-
ceivedand harangued by the vice-chamberlain, who was
the same Dr. Covell whose letter concerning the ill-treat-
ment of queen Mary has already been quoted. While the

king was absent, lord Halifax represented to the queen
"how very inconvenient it was for the council to travel to
Hampton-Court to meet the king there, and represented
that a palace near London would be a great conve-
'
nience."
The princess Anne prudently withdrew her child and

herself from the vicinity of her royal sister and brother-
in-law while the great cause of her own future provision
was debated by parliament. Lord Craven lent his fine
house at Kensington Gravel-pits'^ for the prince's nursery:
there he remained twelve months. Every day he went out

in a miniature carriage, presented him by the duchess of
Ormonde, nor was the severest cold suflFered to detain him
from the air. The which were
horses, Shetland ponies,
scarcely larger than good-sized mastiflFs, were guided by
Dick Drury, the prince of Denmark's coachman. Lady
Fitzharding was the household spy in the establishment of
the princess Anne; besides being strongly in the interest
of her sister and of the king, she was
(Elizabeth Villiers)
considered to possess an extraordinary share of the queen's
favoiu'. This lady was instructed to persuade the princess
to let the motion in parliament for her provision drop ; but
' Lamberty.
The memory of the residence of the old heroic carl of Craven, (who was
'
supposed to have been privately married to the queen of Bohemia,) is preserved

in tlie name of Craven-hill, Bayswater. The beauties of this spot are now
marred by dense rows of brick houses. The house was destroyed by fire in the
last century its site may be guessed by a tine row of old elms, near Mrs.
:
Loudon's houae, rorehester-terracc.

234 MARY II.
the earl of Marlborough had returned from the i:":-nnai^n in

Holland, and he urged on the measure as if j.ls dearesL
personal interests were concerned. Finally, on the18th
of December, 1689, the commons signified to the kin"' tlie
propriety of allowing his sister-in-law 50,000/. out of the
civil list.' The hatred of queen Mary to her sister thence-
forth —
became implacable, not openly and avowedly a'5 yet^
for theoutward grimace of friendly intercourse continued
more than two years. Meantime, Anne was considered not
only as heiress to the British throne, but in the more im-
portant light of mother to the future line of sovereigns, for
her infant son grew and prospered. The circumstance of
her bearing an heir at a very important political crisis, and
that he should live, while three children she had previously
borne had died, formed a parallel case to the birth and pro-
longed existencQ of her unfortunate brother.
One winter's night of 1689, the queen's apartment at
Whitehall was entered by a scaling-ladder from the Thames,
and the daring burglars carried off the plate of her majesty's
toilet and the branches of a silver lustre ; in all, prey to the
amount of five or six hundred pounds. The apartment of
the queen's Dutch official, Overkirk, was at the same time
robbed of a large silver cup. This daring act was generally

supposed to have been committed under the auspices of
I
I
captain Richardson, gaoler of Newgate, or rather, captain
of the thieves put under his charge, to whom he was dread-
fidly cruel by day, but at night let the Avorst of them out
to rob for his benefit. " The perpetrators of the Whitehall
burglary were never discovered, although some of the booty
was found, being a branch of one of the queen's toilet-
lustres, thrown into a darksome hole in Westminster, which
had never before needed a lustre from a queen's table to
illumine its depths." ^
The foregoing stream of occurrences but brings us down to
the Christmas of 1689-90, — an epoch equally marked ^vith
anxiety to the Protestant branch of the royal family reigning

in England, and to their exiled father reigning in Ireland.
'
Ralph. * Lamberty, 69G, vol. ii.
MARY II. 235
The saying went throughout the British realm, that if king

James would give some proper pledge for the security of the
established religion, he could not be kept out of the govern-
ment a single day. In truth, every description of plunderer,
high and low, had seized on the finances with such vigorous
activity, that in one twelvemonth only the revenue, which
James II. had left perfectly clear and free from debt, was
minus by three millions.* What was worse, the English
navy, left by their sailor-king the ruler of the seas, had sus-
tained a scandalous defeat at Bantry-bay, not for lack of

skill or bravery, but because the infamous peculators, who
had been kept at bay by king James, now embezzled all the
funds provided for food and ammunition. The war was
carried on in Ireland in the same spirit of peculation. The
soldiers sent to oppose king James perished with disease,
because the contractors supplied them with rotten food and

damaged clothing. The duke of Schomberg wrote piteous
despatches from Ireland on the iniquity of the Englishmen
in office, were leaders in the house of com-
especially if they
mons. William III. writhed under the consciousness that
this corruption was sapping the foundations of his throne.
One day he was discussing these troubles with his minister

and confidant Bertinck, whom he had lately created earl of
Portland they observed, with consternation, the appalling
;
pubHc defalcations which had impaired the revenue since the

deposition of king James. Portland asked his royal friend,
"whe^ner he believed that there was one honest man in the
whole of Great Britain ?" —
" Yes, there are many,'' replied
king William with a sigh. " There are as many men of high
honour in this country as in any other, perhaps more ; but,
my they are not my friends."^
lord Portland,
This conviction did not prevent king William from dis-
gracing himself by the patronage he afibrded to the noxious
wretch, Titus Oates. The parliament annulled the just sen-
tence of the law against the perjurer, and Wîlliam and Mary
' See Dalrymple's Appendix. Toone's Chronology.

' Lord Dartmouth's Notes. Portland told the anecdote to Dartmouth's
236 MARY ir.
no*^ only pensioned him with 520/. per annum,' but, wliat
was rewarded him for his deeds with two rich
far worse,
livings in the church of England. Titus likewise wrote a
most libellous book against Jarnes II., and was impudent
enough to present it in full levee to the king and queer
Evelyn mentions, with disgust, that his work contrived to
insult the grandfather as well as the father of the queen
being entitled, " Eikon Basilike, or a picture of the late kins'
James." It was a vulgar parody on the beautiful work of
Charles I. The patronage of this foul charucer occasioned
horror, but king William was supposed to be in liis power,
on account of former political intrigues. Notwithstanding
all the personal favour and riches the king and queen were
pleased to shower on Titus Oates, the parliament still refused
to remove the stigma of perjury from him. would be What
thought in these days, of a clergyman being inducted into
rich pluralities, whose oath was inadmissible as a convicted
false witness?
The queen was observed by her courtiers to put on a
whenever she communed with her sister,
statue-like coldness
who was glad to retreat to her old dwelling, the Cockpit,
from the coveted Portsmouth apartments, which were in near
vicinity to those of her majesty. The queen's side of the
ancient palace of Whitehall seems to have beeu on the site
of the range of buildings now called Whitehall-ten ace;

while the residence of the princess, the Cockpit, was on the
other side of the Holbcin-gatewa}', and opened into St.
James's-park. The Portsmouth apartments were occupied

by the infant duke of Gloucester as his nursery, whenever
he was in town and the queen could
; at times approach her
' An extract from the Secret Service-book of William III. sets this assertion
beyond dispute. The king privily paid this perjurer ten poruids every week,
sir Denham Norrcys having favoured us with an extract from the document
among the Irish State-papers the date from Sept. 29 to Dec. 25^ 1690.
:
" Titus Otes, upon his all"'" of x/. per week, and is for
four weeks, commencing on the 9th October and
ending on the Gth Nov 40 0"
This payment is regularly repeated through the account, and gives liim 520(.
p6F annHiu. HuiuC' tstutes ouly 4'CC(. per aimum to be the amount.
—
MARY II. 237
adopted son without always meeting the mother, and assum-

iuff the austere frown with which she usually beheld her.*
The princess, who was a tender mother, passed much of her

time in tlie nursery of her heir. Whenever the queen heard
that her sister was there, she forbore to enter the room, but
wouiil scud an inquiry or a message to her infant nephew,
"a compliment," as it was called in the phraseology of the
day. The set speech used to be delivered by the queen's
official terms to the unconscious infant, as he sat on
in formal
his knee ; and then the courtly messenger would de-
nurse's
part, without taking the slightest notice of the princess Anne,
altliough she was in the room with her child. Sometimes

queen Mary sent her nephew rattles or balls,, or other toys,
all which were chronicled in the Gazette with great solem-

nity; but every attention shown to the little Gloucester was
attended with some signal impertinence to his mother.'^
Eaily in the spring of 1690, king William completed the
pui'chasc of lord Nottingham's lease of Kensington-house,
for which 30,000'. was paid out of the treasury,* and deter-
mined to build there a palace which woidd be conveniently
contiguous to London and yet out of the reach
for councils,
of its smoky atmosphere, which often aggravated his con-
stitutional disease of asthma to agony. The earl of Notting-

ham's ground at Kensington consisted of only twenty-five
acres, being the angle between the present conservatory
and Kensington town, and the whole demesne in king

William's occupation never exceeded it. Hyde-park then
came up to the great walk,"* which now reaches from Bays-
water to Kensington, extending in front to the palace. A
wild ground between the north of
gravel pit occupied the
the palace and the Bayswater road,'' afterwards enclosed by
queen Anne. A straight avenue of trees and a formal car-

riage-drive led across the park to William III.'s suburban
palace the round pond did not then exist, therefore the
:
present features of the scene are essentially different.

' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough. ' Ibid.
' Tindal's Conthiuation.
* Kniffht's London. * Ibid.
MARY II.
QUBEN.REGNANT OP GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.
CHAPTEll VI.
The reins of —
government consigneil to queen Mary Plan to seize her father-
— —
Departure of William III. to Ireland The queen's letters Slie describes
her quarrel with tlie queen-dowager — Arrest of her uncle— Enmity against
l."n— — —
Her Sabbath laws Her want of money for building Her regiial
troubles— —
Her annoyance from lord Monmouth She orders the fleet to fight
— —
—Loss of the battle of Beachy Head Her letter on it Writes to the Dutch
admiral — — —
Her aiflietion Letter on the king's wound On the battle of the
— —
Boyne Her meeting with lord Lincoln Visit to the privy council— Is
— —
named in Jacobite songs She pleads for education in Ireland Horrors
inflicted there by her husband — —
Queen reviews the militia Her disgist at
— —
Burnet and his sermon Her discussions in council Urged to seize power—
— —
Her fidelity to her spouse Harassed with naval matters Offers command to
admiral Russell— —
Tormented with cabinet factions Expects the king home
— Kensington-palace and Hampton-Court unfinished — Dreads her lusband's
anger— —
Fears for his capture at sea —
Plagued by factions Beset by a mad
lord— —
Regnal perplexities Has the vapours.
Queen Mary was brought by William the Third to council

June 3rd, 1690, an act of parliarae'it having previously
passed, investing her with full regnal powers during the
king's William appointed in her presence the

absence.
jimta of nine privy councillors whom he had chosen to
assist her.^ The president of this cabinet-courcil was lord
Danby, who first practised, systematically, the black art of
swaying the English senate by personal bribes. He was

now marquess of Carmarthen. His eight coadjutors were
lord Pembroke, lord Devonshire, lord Nottingham, lord
Godolphin, lord Marlborough, lord Monmouth,'^ admiral
Russell, and sir John Lowther. Such were the materials
of Mary II.'s government, when, in the prime of life, in
' Lord Clarendon's Diary, vol. ii. p. 316. Sir J, Dalrymple's Appendix.
' niis person is the same eccentric hero celebrated under tl.e name of lord
Peterborough in the reign of queen Anne. It is a task to identify historical

characters under the rapid changes of titular appellation assumed by the revo-
lutionists.
m :
w
MARY II. 239
her summer, the reins of a divided em-

nine-and-twentietli
pire were placed in her inexperienced hands.A most ex-
traordinary story was at the same time circulated concerning
her, which was, that she had suffered since her coronation
great mental agony on account of her conduct to her

father; and in consequence, had had recourse to the spirit-
ual aid of her friend, Dr. Tillotson. He, to comfort her,

preached a sermon from Matt. xxx. 46, on hell torments.
It appears that Tillotson leaned to doubts as to their

eternity, for furious comments were made on the sermon
by his enemies, as a promulgation of the tenets of the
Sociuians. The most provoking assertion was, that they
were adopted to soothe the queen^s despair.'
"The day before the king set out for Ireland," says Burnet,'^
"he called me he seemed to have a great
into his closet;
from the state of ^'n affairs, which was
weight on his spirits
then very cloudy. He said, ' for his part he trusted in God,
and would either go through with this business, or perish in
it; only he pitied the poor queen, —the poor queen V repes
ing that and ' wished that those
twice with great tenderness,
who loved him would wait much on her, and assist her;'
adding, the going to a campaign was naturally no unplea-
'
sant thing to him. He was sure he understood that better

than how to govern England and though he had no mis-
;
trust or doubt of the cause he went on, yet, going against
king James in person was hard upon him, since it would be
a vast trouble, both to himself and the queen, if her father
should He [king Wil-

be either killed or taken prisoner.'
Ham] desired niy prayers, and dismissed me ve^-y deeply
affected with all he had said."^ I had a particular occasr'on
to knoAv how tenacx he [William III.] was of king James's
person, for one^ had sent by me a proposition to him, [Wil-
'
Life of Dr. Tillotson, by Dr. Birch. The sermon was preached March 7,
1690. The uproar concerning it lasted some months.
2 Harleian MSS. No. 6584. Brit. Museum.
' Burnet's Own
Times, which thus far varies little from the MSS.
' The author has some idea that tliis " one," unnamed by Burnet, was sir
Clondesley Shovel. Burnet's MS. leaves the clironology of this remarkable
m
240 MARY II.
liam,] which seemed fair : That a first-rate ship, manned by

men on whom the king [William] might depend, and com-
manded by one that tjie king [William] might trust, should
be sent to Dublin, with orders to ' declare for king James.'
He [the commander of the ship] offered to be the person
who should carry the message to king James, then at Dublin
for he had served him at sea, and was known to liim. He
knew the king's temper [James] so well, that, upon an in-
vitation, he was sure he would come on board, and then
they might sail away with him, either to some part of Spain *
or Italy;' for he [the betrayer] 'would not engaye in it

unless he was assured he [James II.] was not to be made
a prisoner'^ When / [Burnet] carried this to the kinrj,
[William,] he thought 'the thing might, probably enough,
succeed.' But he would not hearken to it, he would have '
no hand in treachery; and besides, if king James shouli go

on board with his guards, there might be some struggle >vit]i
them and the seamen, and in it somewhat might happen to
king James's person, in which he would have no hand so ;'
he would not entertain the notion. I told this afterAvards to

the queen, and saw in her a great tenderness for her father,
and she seemed much touched at the answer the king had
made." Wôuld, for the honour of human nature, that this
passage were true, but sternly is it gainsaid by the secret
proceedings of the pair. A warrant was found,^ a few years
incident in his usual indefinite manner. He mentions it .Tune 13, old style ; it
might have occurred previously.

* In Burnet's printed liistory the audacious figment is stated, " that king
James was to he on shore in the Catholic states of Spain or
set Italy, mth a
present of 20,000^." His manuscripts say nothing of this present.

* Lord Dartmoutli, Notes to Burnet, vol. iv. p. 82. Torrington's papers
were all seized after his defeat at Beachy Head, July 1, 1690. A writer in tlie
Edinhurgh Review, finding these facts distasteful to his preconceived idciis of
history, has endeavoured, on mere assertion, to invalidate the connexion between
William and Mary's privy-seal warrant for delivering their father up to the
Dutch and this plan of Burnet for kidnapping hhn. The Edinhurgh Review says
the dates disagree. Let any reader examine the matter by chrouoh){rical tables,
and it will be seen that the date of the wan-ant must, perforce, be limited he-
,:f »• tween the time James arrived at Dublin, April 1689, and Herbert lord Torring-
ton's defeat at Beachy Head, June 29th, (o.s.) 1690, because Herbert lord Tor-
rington never held any command afterwards. The dates are coincident, and caiuiut
I
I
I
MAltY II. Il
afterwards Dartmouth, amoii;^ Herbert earl of

by lord
Torrington'a papers, written throu<^hout by queen Mary's
great confidant, the earl of Nottinj^ham, and signed by the
hand of king William, authorizing the same admiral [Tor-
rington]
" to seize the person of James II., and to deliver
him up, certainly not to Spain, or Italy, but to the states of
Holland, to be disposed of as they should think proper." The
mercies of who had quelled
the Dutch to the admiral- prince
their flag in so many tremendous
were not likely to
conflicts,
be very tender. The new information gained by comparing

Burnet's manuscript notation of current events with the
printed version given to the world in general, is worth at-
tention. It has been shown that he claims the merit of in-

troducing to William III. the above plan for kidnapping king
James II., by enticing him on board one of the ships that had
formerly belonged to him but whether the parricidal warrant
;
mentioned by lord Dartmouth was only drawn at that very

time, or had previously existed, it convicts the filial pair of
deep hypocrisy, with their tears and pious ejaculating, and
"desired prayers." In further illustration of their true feel-
ings may be seen, to this day, the London Gazette printed
mider Mary's regency, in which exultant mention is made

"that the cannons of her husband, pointed against the tents
of had beat down many in close vicinity to him."*
her father,
" The queen would not enter on the government until the
king was upon the seas," pursues Burnet's MSS. " She was
regular in her private and public devotions to admiration.
She was much in her closet, and read a great deal; she wrought
much, [in handiworks,] and seemed to employ her thoughts
on any thing but business. All she did was natural and un-
affected ; her conversation was natural and obliging, and she
was singular for her vast charities to the poor. A vast mass
be disconnected by abusive words. Lord Dartmouth is a credible witness ; he
bore evidence on a matter conGerning his own peculiar business, for he was lord
privy-seal in the reign of queen Anne, and avowedly spoke from the Torrington
papers he found in his own office.
'
London Gazette, July 1690, which is fm-ther quoted in Ralph's History,
p. 21.
VOL. VII. K
242 MATIY IT,
of people of quality luid fled from Ireland, and drew from her
great marks of her bounty and goodness ; nor wan siic ever
uneasy or angry with those who threw objects in her way.
But all this was nothing to the pu1)lie; if the kiii^r talked to
her of affairs, it was in so private a way as nobody seemed to
appreh d it. Only Shrewsbury told me [IJuruot] that the
king said to him, that * Though he could not hit the ri;rl,t
way of pleasing the nation, he was sure she could, and that
we should be all very happy under her.' "•
Queen Mary bade adieu to her husband Juue ^\, 1690.
He commenced his journey towards the coast of Cheshire^
the same day, meaning to land in that part of Irehuid which
would enable him to effect a speedy junction of the great
forces he brought with the miserable and dispirited army
commanded b} Schomberg and Kirke. The day of Ids
departure the queen came to Whitehall-palace, whcr^ she
ostensibly took up her residence and assumed the rehis of
government. In due time she received a letter from her
husband, announcing his safe arrival at Carrickfergus,
June ^4'
After William's departure to Ireland may be observed, for
the first time, a recognition of Mary's participation in the
sovereignty in her own pahicc, by the alteration in the lord
chamberlain's warrants, which then begin to l)e dated in
the second year of their majesties' instead of his majesty's

reign. But never, in the most stormy periods of her
regency, had the queen the slightest communication with
her parliament excepting by commission,'' the instruments for
which bear her full sign-manual, Maria Kegina to which ;
18 added, Guliel. Maria, Dei gratia Anglics, &c. Never-

et
theless, the formula of all assented bills ran, le Roy et k

Reyne le veulent.* Perhaps the king's regal jealousy of his
wife had been aggravated by a remarkable cii eurustauce,—
that when the bill was passing in the spring of this year of
> Harleian Collection, Burnet's original autograph MSS., No. 6581.

* Diary of Lord Clarendon.
MS. Journals of the House of Lords. So written.
— :
MAIIY ir. 943
IfiJK), to rnable the queen to exercise in the king's absence

the sole sovereign power, very singular queries were started
for Instance, " Whether, if tlie ([ueen gave contrary com-
mands to the king, or signed any docunicnts contradicting
liis orders, which soiureir/n was to be obi;yed?'' Such ia,
however, the mere heading of tlie diurnal notation; the very
remarkable debate which ensued thereon passed with closed
doors, and if any minutes remain of the speeches, they exist
in as yet undiscovered private manuscripts.
A glance over the long-scaled household records of tho
reign of William and Mary is sufficient to convince any
person,not wilfully blind, to the exclusive patronage be-
stowed on the coimtrymen of the Dutch sovereign. His
vans and mynheers monopolize all offices about his august
person. Beginning with his princ.j al favc arites, Bentiuek

and Keppel, who were invidiously styled hi minions by the
great body of the people, and ending \' ith his two corn-
cutters, no names occur but those A oreigncrs.

The queen wrote daily to hei spouse during the Irish
campaign, giving him minute information on all occurrences,
political and domestic. The first letter of the series found
in king William's box at Kensington is as follows :
" Queen Mary to Kino William.*

" Wliiteball, June, 1690.
" You will be weary of seeing every day a letter from me, it may be ; yet,
being apt to flatter myself, 1 will ]'0\m tbat you will be as willing to read aa 1
to write, and, indeed, it is tbe only comfort 1 bave in tbis world, besides that of
trust in have notbing to say to you at present tbat is worth writing,

Grod, I
and I think it '"ûble you with my grief, which must contiime
unreasonable ;
while you are absent, thoug'' ' trust, every post, to bear some good news of
you iherefore 1 shall make tlus very short, and only tell you 1 bave got a
J
swelled face, though not quite so bad as it was in Holland, live years ago. I
believe it came by standifig too near tbe window when I took the waters.
" I cannot thank God enough for your being so well past tbe dangers of tbe
sen. I iH'Hcecb bini, in his mercy, still to preserve you so, and send us once
more a liapjiy meeting upon earth. I long to hear again from you how tbe air
of Ireland agrees with you, for I must owti I am not without my fears for that,
loving you so entirely as I do, and shall till death."
Mary's next letter to her husband shows her launched on

the sea of troubles belonging to her exalted station. She
'
Dalrymple's Appendix, p. 115.
R 2
244 MARY IT,
details to her absent lord her refusal to sign the death-

warrant of Macguire, the burglar, and her determination of
commuting his sentence of death into transportation.' " I
shall not trouble you," she adds, " with every thing the
lords said to me at this time ; the chief thing was, that they
had had the parson in examination/^ Her majesty proceeds
to relate, in diction rather too involved for direct quotation,
why " this parson " was in trouble with the privy council.
A prayer had been ordered by her to be said in all church-
of-England places of worship, for the success of king Wil-

liam's arms against her father in Ireland. Lord Fevershara,
chamberlain to the queen-dowager, Catharine of Braganza,
had taken upon him to stop this prayer from being said by
" the parson " of the Savoy chapel, because it w as under the
jurisdiction of Somerset-house, the dower-palace of Catha-
rine of Braganza, whereby king William was deprived of
the benefit of the prayers of the protestant part of the
dowager's household, — conduct which Mary viewed with
intense indignation.
The bitterness which pervaded the mind of Mary against
the forlorn queen-dowager, her uncle's widow, whose friend-

less state in a foreign land ought to have called forth better
feelings, is apparent throughout the whole of this corre-
spondence. She proceeds thus to describe to her wedded
partner how she tock lord Feversham to task for the offences
of his royal mistress. " I was," she writes,^ '' extreme angry,
which the lords [of the privy-council] saw, but I shall not
trouble you with it. I told them, that I thought there was
no more measures to be kept with the queen-dowager hei'seJJ
after this ; were her order, which no doubt it

that is, if it is,
First, lord Nottingham was to send for lord Feversham to

him. I desired him 'to speak as angrily to him as pos-
sible,' which he promised to do. Lord Feversham Avas with
him as soon as he got home, having heard of the parson
• It must be remembered that the West India islands and North Ani"rica
were, at that time, the penal settlements for convicts.

» Letters of queen Mary to king William, printed in Dalrymple's Appendix,
part ii., from the Kensington box, pp. 115, 116.
—
ÂRY II. 245
being examined. When lord Nottingham told him all I

said, he seemed much concerned, and desired to come and
throw himself at my feet, and own all the matter as a very
great fault in him, but done out of no
ill design. To be
short, he came yesterday to my
bedchamber, at the hour
when there was a great deal of company, (I mean just
before dinner) ; he looked as pale as death, and spoke in
great disorder." As lord Feversham had recently been a

prisoner in the Round-tower at Windsor-castle,^ on the
committal of king William, perhaps his pallor proved his

alarm lest the queen should send him back to his old place
of durance.
Queen Mary's narrative proves that she gave her morning
receptions in ler bedchamber. She thus continues to nar-
rate the tribulations of poor lord Feversham, who, being a
Frenchman, was, of course, rather hyperbolical in his mode
of apology to the fair offended majesty of Great Britain :
" He said," continued the queen, " that he must own it was
a very great fault, since I took it so ; but he begged me to
believe it was done not out of any ill intention, nor by agree-
ment with any body. He assured me the queen-dowager
knew nothing of it : that it was a fault, a folly, an indiscre-
tion, or any thing I would call it.' I told him 'that after
doing a thing of that nature, the best way was not to go
about it, for that was impossible, since, to call
excusing of
it most gentle name I could give it, 'twas an unpar-
by the
donable folly, which I did not expect after the protestations
he had made.' Upon which he said an abundance of words:
I doubt wheth'ir he himself knew what he meant by them.
At last, he spo te plain enough. He said, ' God pardoned

sinners when they repented, and so he hoped I would.' I
told him, 'God saw hearts, and whether their repentance
was sincere, which, since I could not do, he must not find it
strarge if I trusted only to actions,' and so I left him. I

pity the poor man for being obliged thus to take the queen-
dowager's faults upon him, yet 1 could not bring myself to
' Sir Henry Ellis's Historical Letters, second Series, vol. iv. p. 184. His
name was Louis Duras : he was nephew to the great Turenne.
246 MARY 11-
forgive lum. I remember I did say "more, ' that if it had

been myself, I could have pardoned him; but when it im-
mediately concerned your person, I would not, nor could
not.'
" The queen-dowager sent me a compliment yesterday on
my swelled face. I do not know whether I have writ you
word of it. Yesterday I had leeches set behind my ears
which has done but little good, so that it mends but slowly;
and one of my eyes being again sore, I am fain to write this
at so many times, that I fear you will make but ill sense of
it. The queen-dowager will come to-day to see me, hut
desired an hour when there was least company, so I imagiue
she will speak something of herself and that which iuclines
j
me the more to this opinion is, that she has sent for lord
Halifax,' and was shut up in her chamber about business
with him and others th3 whole morning. I shall give you
an account of this before I seal up my letter."
Queen Mary was, however, disappointed. Catharine of
Braganza came not as a suppliant at her levee, to receive

a rating like her lord chamberlain, Feversham. As that
nobleman had promised and vowed that his queen knew
nothing of the ofience, Catharine wisely resolved to appear
as if she remained in utter ignorance of the whole affair;
nor could queen Mary insist that her dowager-aunt knew

aught of what was going on in a Protestant place of wor
ship which she never attended. At the close of her letter,
queen Mary says, ^'The queen-dowager has been, but did
not stay a moment, or speak two words. Since she went,
I have been in the garden, and find my face pretty well j
but it is now candle-light, therefore I dare say no more.

I have still the same complaint to make that I have not
time to cry, which would a little ease my heart, but I hope
in God I shall have such news from you as will give me no
reason; yet your absence is enough, but since it pleases
God, I must have patience. Do but continue to love me,
and I can bear all things with ease." The next day brought
' He was chancellor to the queen-dowager's (Catharine of Braganza) esta-
blishment.
'f
MARY II. 247
tidings of sufficient import to divert her mind from dwelling

on her heart-burnings with the queen-dowager ; it was, that
a mighty French which had been long expected to
fleet,
invade England, was seen passing through the Channel.
Queen Mary announced this event in two duplicate letters

to her husband
:
"Queen Maby to King William.'

" WliitehaU, June 22, half-past 11 at night.
The news which is come to-night of the French fleet being rpon the coast,
"
makes it thought necessary to write to you both ways,^ and I (that you may see
liow matters stand in my heart) prepare a letter for each. I think lord Torring-
ton (admiral of the Enghsh Channel) has made no haste, and I
fleet in the
raiinot tell whether his being sick, and staying

for lord Pembroke's regiment,
will be a sufficient excuse. But I will not take up your time with my reason-
ingts. I sJiall only tell you that I am so little afraid, that I begin to fear that
I have not sense enough to apprehend the danger ; for whether it tlu-eatens
Ireland or this place, [England,] to me 'tis much as one to the fear, for as much
a coward as you think me, I fear me for your dear person more than my poor
carcase. I know who is most necessary in the world. What I fear most at
present, is not hearing from you. Love me, whatever happens, and be assured
I am ever entirely
" Your's till death."
which she wrote at this exigence,

In the duplicate letter
the chief variation is in her pretty expressions of affection
to her husband. She says to him, " As I was ready to go

into my bed, lord Nott [ingham] came and brought me a
letter, of which he is going to give you an account. For

ray own part, I shall say nothing to it, but that I trust God
will preserve us,

—
you where you are, and poor I here."
She again repeats, " that her insensibility to fear is so com-
plete, that she attributes it to a defect of charnetei'." Wil-
liam, it seems, had formed no high idea of her viiioui', for
she playfully alludes to his opinion of her cowardice. She

nevertheless showed, at this awful crisis, as valiant and
steady a spirit as her most renowned sires.
Left alone, or surrounded by those whose fidelity was

doubtful, Mary II. acted with decision and vigour. While
a victorious fleet threatened her coasts, she issued warrants
' Daliymple's Apj)endix, part ii. p. 117, printed fi-om king William's box,
Kensington.
- By two difl'erent routes to Ireland : both of the queen's letters ai-rivcd
siif'ely.
248 MAKY II.
number of the discontented nobi-

for the capture of a large
lity, among whom her mother's brothers were numbered*
and strong in her reliance on the middle-classes ot England
she reviewed in person the militia called "the London and
Westminster trained-bands." Her next measure v/as to
banish all the Catholics from the vicinity of the metro-
polis, a step which met with the enthusiastic applause of her
party. She devotes a whole letter to her husband on the
subject of the arrests, and manifests as little natural affe;-
tion at incarcerating, or, as she calls it, "clapping up"

her uncle lord Clarendon in the Tower on suspicion, as she
did when dispossessing her father of his throne and country.
These are her words on the subject :
" Since I writ to you about the coming of the French fleet upon the coast,
the lords have heon very, busy. I shall not go about to s^ve you an account of
all things, but shall tell you some particular passages. One happened to-day at
the great council, [privy council,] where I was by their advioi. When tiny had
resolved to seize on suspected persons, in naming them, sir H. Capel would have
said something for lord Clarendon, (whose first wife, you know, was sir H. C.'s
sister). Every body stared at him ; but nobody preparing to answer, I ventured
to s])eak, and told sir H. Capel that I believed every body knew, as I did, that
'
there was too much against him [lord Clarendon] to leave him out of the list
that was making.' I can't tell whether I ought to have said this j but when I
knew your mind upon it, and had seen his [lord Clarendon's] letter, I believed
it as necessary that he should be clcvpt up as any, and therefore thought myself
obliged to say so. But as I do not know when I ought to speak, and when not,
I am as silent as can be ; and if I have done it now mal-a-propos, I am sorry,
but could not help it, though, at the same time I must own I am sorrier than it
may be well believed for him, finding the Dutch proverb true, which you know,
but I should six)il in writing." •
It is to be regretted that queen Mary did not quote her

Dutch proverb, since any thing in illustration of her feeling
toM'ai'ds her mother's family would be an historical curi-
osity. Mary knew that the manner in which her uncle
treated her advancement implied the severest blame on her
conduct, and she never forgave him for viewing her queen-
ship with grief and shame, instead of rushing to profit by
her power.
At an early period of her regnal labours, the queen re-
quested her council to assist her in framing regulations for
the better observance of the Sabbath. All hackney-car-
» Whitehall. June 24, [July 4, o.s.].
MARY II. 249
riages and horses were forlbidden to work on that day, and

their drivers to ply for customers. The humanity of this
regulation was, however, neutralized by the absurdity of :k :
other acts. The queen had constables stationed at the cor-

ners of streets, who were charged to capture all puddings
and pies on their progres;^ to bakers' ovens on Sundays;
but such ridiculous scenes in the streets took place, in con-

sequence of the owners fighting fiercely for their dinners,
that were suspended amid universal laughter.'
her laws
Perhaps some of her council, remembering her own Sunday
evening gamblmgs, both in England and HoUand, thought
that her majesty might have had mercy on the less culpable
Sunday puddings and pies of the hungry poor, belonging to

persons too often destitute of fire and conveniences for pre-
paring their humble meal.

Mary seldom appeared at the privy council board, and
then only when there was some measure in agitation which
required the weight of her personal influence and vivd voce
observations, such as the consignment of lier eldest uncle to
the Tower. Did she then on his devoted
cast a thought
attachnicnt to her expatriated sire ? or take shame that the
love of the brother-in-law and the friend of early youth so
far exceeded that of " Mary the daughter," as her Scottish
subjects, termed
in the utmost bitterness of satire, ironically
her? No; was but one spot of tenderness in the
for there
marble of her heart, and that was exclusively devoted to her
husband. The queen continues her narrative, in the course
of which the reiteration of her sneering phrase, " clapt up,"
proves that she had little pity for those whom her warrants
had hurried into captivity. She says,
" I hope the easterly wind is the only cause I dc not hear from you, which I
am very impatient for now ; and, when I consider that you may be got a great
way if V. liegan to march last Thursday, I am in a million of fears, not know-
.
ing when you may be in daiorer. That alone is enough to make me the greatest
pain imaginable, and in co\i ./ison of which all thir?r!' 'se are not to be named.
Yet, by a letter from lord Toirington,' dated three '
ck yesterday afternoon,
'
I see he thought ihis day was like to decide a great iA there. 1 cannot but
> Somers' Tracts; British Museum.
' From the fleet he was commanding, off Beachy Head.

T'r^Ti'^f. 111.
9
'
f
>
#/*'-i\ iJ
^•^% >M j - .
- II
Illr^
250 MAllY II.
be in pain. It may be I do not ronson Just on the matter, but I fenr, besides
disheartening many jicople, tlie loss of a battle would be sudi an i-'ncoiu-uci-uient
to the disjvffected ones, that might put things liorc into disorder, wliicli, in y,),,^
absence, woiUd be a terrible thing : but I thank Ood I tru.^t in him, and that
is
.. > Ifll' r really the only consolatidii 1 iiave.
"I was night '\\ Hyilc-fvtrk, ibr tho first time since you wont;
last
it
swarmed with those viio n-j iiow (.rtlered t» \w. clapt vp. Yestcrdav lord
Feversham [queen Cailtariin lord ehambirii.ia] came to lord Nottiii'rimm
'-,
[queen Mary's lord clniuiberlinnl, and to'J that he had jiut tliu (iiu'eu- I ) i
dowagfc;.' ofl' tiv. Hamb:;i ,rh vov.v^j. La ilie v '-i jro f Hath. After \vlii(!!i lie . •:
ca^ViB afâin, aixl said, 'tiat scving it migiit »j inconvenient to have gniirds
there, s>ie doîre-! to go i > Islington ;• but lord Marlborough desired an answer
migh! i'it Ik; giv.'!! or a day or two, till we lieMvd something of the sueeessof
the riiC'
"Since I linve writ this, 1 was cnll«v.l -.nt to 'ord Nottingham, who brotifht
me your tleai' so welcoMie thai I cannot express it, csiieeially
•ett<?r, 'vliich is
because you pity me, which I !iitc imd vle.ire from you, and you only. As fur
the buildnigs, I fea thfre will he 'y (;l>t*;:>cles, for I spoke to sir J.Lowtlier
this very day, smd iiear of if much use tl)i money, and find so httle, that I
cannot tell whether that of l'am])ton-CoiU't will not Iw the wor.tt I'w it, espe-
liL'h'^"^ cially since the French are in the Channel, and at present between Portland and
,f''
\18, from whenct) the ntone must come."
,Vm. ,'
;
The queen alludes to the quadrangle at Ilampton-Coartj

which had been demolished by William III., and Avas tlieu
in course of re., onstruction by sir Christopher Wren. It is
apparent that queen was fearful that her consort could

tlie
not enjoy his tastes for war and building both at the same
time. She vvrote^ two days after, to her absent king, dated
Whitehall the troubles of empire appear to thicken around
:
her.
" liy this express I shall write ireely, and tell you what great suspicions
increase continually of major Wildman.^ It woidd be too long to tell you all the
reasons of susi)icion, but this one instance I will give, that since your going from
hence there is not one word come from Scotland, neither from lord Meli-'m nor
colonel Mackay, to lord Marlborougli, which niethinks is unaccountable. Lord
Notilr^ham desuxd I would sign lettfn-s to the governors of Jierwick and Car-
lisle,not to let any persons go by who had not a pass, and that they should stop
all the mails. This I have done, and tlif express is to be immediately sei\t
away. I ever fear not doing well, and a-ust to what nobody says but you;
therefore I hope it will have your approbation."
The intense difficulty of the queen's position, surrounded

as she Avas by secret enemies, petulant friends, or ])uitisnTis
Vrobably to Canonbury-hof •.
2 Wildman had 1 ^gaged in all the plots for the la:*.' ibrty years. He
appears to have bec' ^ ': lary to lord Monmouth, aflerwiu'd- so well known as
the warlike ai.'
• " . iC Charles Mordaunt, earl of Peterboroogh, heir of Jmues
II.'s friend, t; -h.' V idler and Joiûbite.
1 E,
¥?,¥n,
— a
MARY IL 251
solely devoted to their OM'n interest, was really frightful,

and if she had had no truer support from the English people
than had from the English court and ai stocracy, her
she
cause would have been a desperate one. Such as it was, it
is best to be
comprehended through the medium of her own
pen, as she relates her troubles to her only friend and con-
fidant :
"The duke of Bolton also tells me, last night, you had given him leave to
raise some horee-voluntecrs, for which he should have had a commission; but
that you went away, and therefore he would have me give it. I put it off, and
lord Marlborough advises me not to give it. Lord president [Carmarthen] some
time since told me the same thing, but I will not give any positive answer till
vou send mo your directions. I must also give you an account of what lord
Nottingham told me yesterday. He says, ' lord steward [the earl of Devon-
shire]' was very angry at lord Torrington's deferring the fight, and proposed i|
'
tlmt somebody should be joined in commission with him j' but that, the other
lords said, ' could not be done.' So lord Monmouth offered to take one, whose
name I have forgot, (he is newly made, I think, commissioner of the navy,) and
(as lord Nottingham tells me you had thoughts of liaving him command the
fleet if lord Torrington had not,) this man lord Monmouth projwsed ' to take,
and go together on board lord Torrington's ship as volunteers, but with a com-
mission alx)ut them to take the command, in case he should be killed.' I told
Nottingham ' I was not willing to grant tmy commission of that natm-e, not
knowing whether you ever had any thoughts of that kind, so that I thought he
was only to bo thanked for his offer.' I added, 'that I could not think it
proper, that he, being one of the nine you had named, [as her council of regency.]
should be sent away.' Upon which lord Nottingham laughed, and said, ' Tliat
was the greatest compliment I could make lord Monmouth, to say I could not
make use of his arm, having need of his counsel. I suppose they are not very
good friends, but I said it really as I meant, and besides, to hinder propositions
of this kind for Mi. Russell; for lord president [Carmarthen] has upon several
occasions to me alone mentioned sending Mr. Russell, and I believe it was only
to be rid of him. For my part, after what you have told me of all the nine, I
should be very sorry to have him from hence."
This Mr. Russell was the person called admiral Russell in

history. Queen Mary seems to have placed the utmost
reliance on his fidelity, though his rough and savage temper,
together with his perpetual grasping after money and profit,

made him by no means a practicable member of the regency-
council. Just at this time he had taken some affront, —
or nartisHTis frequent case ; and the queen was forced to court him back
to her aid at this awful crisis, by the assistance of his rela-
tive, the celebrated Rachel lady Russell. Her majesty con-

tinues,
' In this, as in other instances, the author's explanatory interpolations are in
squai'e brackets ; the round parenthetical enclosures are by the queen.
252 MARY II.
" And now I have named Mr. Russell, I must tell you that, pt your first
goinp;, he did not come to me, nor I believe to this hour would not Imve naked
to have spoke with me, had not I told lady Russell one dp-- I desired it. When
he came, I told him freely, ' that I desired to sec him sometimes, for being n
stranger to business, I was afraid of being led or persuaded by one l)arty.' He
said, 'that he was very glad to find me of that mind, iind assured me tlmt,
since I gave him that liberty, he would come when ho saw ocension, tliougli he
would not be troublesome.' I hope I did not do amiss in this, and, indwd, I
saw at that time no one but lord president Carmarthen, and 1 was ufruid of
myself. Lord Carmarthen is, on all occasions, afraid of giving me too much
trouble, and thinks, by little and little, to do all. Every one see.? how little I
know of business, and therefore, I believe, will be apt to do as much as tliev
can. Lord Marlborough advised me ' to resolve to be present as often as was
possible,' out of what intention I cannot judge ; but I find they meet often at
the secretary's office, and do not take much pains to give me an account. This
I thought fit to tell you j pray bo so kind to answer me as particular as you
can.
" Queen-dowager has been to take her leave, in order to going to Hammer-
smith, where she will stay till she can po for Windsor. I have tired you with
this long letter, and it is now staid [waited] for. I shall say no more, but
beg you to believe it is impossible to love more than I do don't love me less."
:
This letter and the succeeding one were written during

the period of anxiety which preceded the impending sea-
fight off Beachy Head. Suspicion of lord Torrington^ and
an earnest desire to interfere in his business as admiral, were
the prevalent feelings in the queen's cabinet. Just time
enough had elapsed for the English navy to feel the want
of the royal admiral, for the harpies of corruption, ever on

the alert in an elective monarchy, had done their business
80 effectually with the well-appointed ships and stores he
had left, that a discomfiture had been experienced by the
English navy at Buntry-bay the year before, and another

disgraceful defeat awaited it.' Great jealousies existed be-
tween the Dutch admiral, Evertzen, and the English admiral,
lord Torrington, who was desirous of avoiding an engage-
ment : knowing the miserable state of his appointments, he
wished to defend the English coasts from invasion, and this
' The lamentable state into which the navy had fallen may be judged by the
following piteous extract from lord Carmarthen's letter to king William, (June
13,) the same year. After mentioning the French naval force, he says, " How 111
a condition we are in to resist them, your miyesty can judge. The fieet caunot
be at sea for three weeks, —
I fear not so soon and though viee-admirnl Killl-
;
grew be arrived at Plymouth, yet his ships are so foul, that he cp"'' J the '•
enemy if he should attempt to come up the Channel." It seem 's not

•
i^gisiiia
even in condition to run away.
— — ;
MARY II. 253
opinion lie communicated to the queen. Her proceedings

may be gathered from her letter to her husband :
"Queen Mary to Kino William.

"June 28, N.8., 8 in tlie morning; (July 8, 0.8.)
"Seeing I cannot always write when I will, I must do it wlien I can, and
that upon something that happened yesterday. As for lord Torrington's letter,
you will have an account of that, and the answer from lord Nottingham. I
shall tell what the others diH,

you, as far as I coidd judge,
" Lord Carmarthen was with me, when lord Nottingham brought the letter :
he \v<i8 mightily hot upon sending Mr. Russell down to the fleet. I confess I
saw, as I thought, the ill-consequence of that, having heard you say they ' were
not good friends, and believing lord Torrington, being in the post ho is in, and
of his humour, ought not to be provoked. Besides, I do believe lord president
rCarmai-then] was willing to be rid of Mr. Russell, and I had no mind to that
80 I said what I could against it, and found most of the lords of my mind when
they met, but lord Monmouth was not with them. Mr. Russell drttv up a
pretty sharp letter for me to sign ; but it was softened, and the only dispute was,
'whether he [lord Torrington] should hivve a positive order to fight ?* At last,

it was wrote in such terms as you will see, to which all agreed but lord steward,
who said, ' it was his duty to tell his thoughts upon a subject of this con-
sequence ;' which was, ' that he believed it very dangerous to trust lord Tor-
rington with the fate of throe kingdoms, (this was his expression,) and that he
was absolutely of opinion that some other should be joined in commission with
him.' To which Mr. Russell answered, ' You must send for him prisoner, then;'
and all the rest concluded it would breed too much disturbance in the sight of
the enemy. So the letter was signed, and lord Nottingham writ another let-
ter, in which he told him our other accoimts rec ived of the fleets from the Isle
of Wight.
no sooner a-bed, but lord Nottingham came to "ne from the lords, who
" I was
were most of them still at his ofiice, where lord Monii was come, very late,
•
but time enough to know all. He oilered his service iimêdiately to go down
post to Portsmouth, (so that the admiralty would give him the commission of a
captain,) and fit out the best ship there, which he believes he can do with more
speed than anothei", with which he will join lord Torringtt'i, and being in a
great passion, swears ' he will never come back again if they do not fight.'
Upon his earnest desire, and the approbation of the lords who were present, lord
Nottingham came up to ask my consent. I asked 'who was there?' and
finding few besides lord Monmouth and lord Nottingham, —
I remember but the
names of three of them, which were the lord president, lord steward, and sir
John Lowther, but the fourth was either lord Pembroke or loi'd Marlborough,
I thought, in myself, they were two-thirds of '^''" rc^mmittee, so would carry it
if put to the vote ; thertfore, seeing they were 'truest as he for it, I thought
I might consent."
Every post-day lord Monmouth brought to the queen and

her jimta letters written in lemon-juice, which he declared
his friend, major Wildman, had intercepted. He began
to show these letters about four days before king William
sailed for Ireland. They contained an abstract of every
' 1. e. Torrington and Russell.
^^',
254 MARY II.
thing that was done by either the sovereigns or th(!ir minis-

ters in the cabinet council, of whicli lord Monniouth was
one. They were directed to " M. Contenay, Amsterdam."
The marquess of Carmarthen expressed his opinion to kin"
William that the letters were fabricated by lord Monmouth
himself, with the aid of major Wildman, in order to breed
doubts and strife in the queen's council. Mary intimates
her own suspicions on the subject to her absent consort, in
the following guarded terms :
i own t» that I had a thought which I would not own, thon|Tli I (\\i\
yf)ii
find some of the lords have the sanio, ahout the lemon letters (which 1 sup]wjse
yfn:have heard of) wliich comes so constantly, and are so very exact, tiie hut of
which told even the debates of the committee .1.1 well us if one of the lords
themselves had writ them. This, I think, looks somewhat cxld, and I beliivn
makes many forward for this expedition and for my own part, 1 Wlievu he
j
[Monmouth] may be best spared of the c()mi)any. Tliough I tliink it a little
irregularity, yet 1 hope you will excuse it, and nobody

can find limit.
else
" Ten at night. —
Since my writing this, theii ha.<< come a great deiil oîicws.
As I was going to cabinet council, sir William Lockhu came with n lettc from '
the committee there. Lord Momnouth was there, after having been in the city,
where he has found one major Born (I think his name is), who hsis the commis-
sion of captain, and not himself, he d«.c:ring his intentions may be kept as secret
as may lie, lest he should come too late in tli;> r:o?n time, his reginiciifs being
;
at I'ortsmouth is the pretem. He [lord Moii lo- "1] made greui >iof; ssions at
parting, and desired me to believe there are some g. >t designs."
This passage reveals remarkable diffeiv ices in tlie customs

of England scarcely one century beyond th: memory of man
in the present time. The professions of naviil and military
warfare were not separated. Lord Monmouth, v hose regi-
ment was demanded o die queen
stationed at Portsmouth,
the comniand of a ship of the line. Although many of these
land-officers had greatly distinguished themselves in the
mighty naval battles which made James II. sovereign of the
rcas, (Momuouth being one among them,) yet James, in
his famous naval regulations, forbad any one to command
s! us, without such pv:/son had, to use his own term, "served
a proper apprenticeship to a naval life." His daughter did
Ti' t observe this excellent rule, and a disgraceful naval defeat
was the consequence. Monmouth was desirous of taking

the whole command of the navy from the admiral who had
possession of it, a measure queen Mary demurred upon, not
because soldiers ought not to command fleets, but because
MARY IT. 255
she (loubtt (I of Monmouth's fidelity.' Tier majesty proceeds

:
thus
" We liiul nnotlicr lemon letter, with tlmt none but 8om(>
tluiij^s so partii'iilnr
of the iiiiu) lords could know them. were done at our offico
especiuUy lliiiif^s thiit
Lite Inst ui^'lit;

upon whicli all sides are of the same mind. Ik-fore I went out
of tilt' roiiiii, I receivtid your dear

letter from Loujjfh Hrieklin hut I cannot ;
exmvss what I then felt, and still fei'l, at the thoughts that now you may
be remlv to give battle, or have done it. My lieart is ready to burst. I can
sav nothinf;, but pniy to (iod for you.
This has waked mc, who was almost
asiit']), and abnost put out of the possibility of saying any thing more; yet
must strive with my heart to tell you, that this at\crM(K)ii the ill news of the
I
biittlo (it Fliiii'y came. I bad a letter from the prince of >\'aldcek, with n cojiy
of till' ;»fC()unt ho sent you; so tli.it I can say nothing hut that God, in whoso
liamls we "uly arc, knows best why he has ordered it w. and to Him we must
sill unit.
"This evening there has been a pen>on with me, from whom you heard nt
Cluster, j)robabiy earl of Ureadalbane,] and whom you there ordered to com*!
to nil' lis he says 'he Ix'licves you will know him by this,' and will by no
menu be named, and what is worse, will name nobotly
is not ; so 1 fear there
imu jKxl to won't give over so.
be done, yet I I must end my letter, for my
evefi ore at present in somewhat a worse condition than ])ef()re I received your
letter. My impatience for another is as great :>s my love, which will not end
but with my life, which is very uneasy to mo at present j but 1 trust in God,
who can alone preserve and comfort me."
Among the other dangers which beset the queen's govern-

i, ;>rot'<'<i9ions at mentj by many of her subjects,
was an angry jealousy felt
lest the hated earl of Sunderland shoiUd have any sway in
her determinations. The precise time when the king and

queen thought him sufficiently purified from his late profes-
sion of pojjery to appear at court has never been defined by
history. He returned incognito a few weeks before the coro-

nation, but he was forced to keep much in the back-ground,
beeause the English people were unanimous in their resent-

ment for his betrayal of king James. The public mind was
tlius expressed :
"On Sundebland's coming to Couet.

"Wlio could have thought that Rome's convert so near
The true protestaiit side of the queen should appear ?
' Among the monarchy in the last

causes of the decrepitude of the French
centiu-y, even so lately as the reign of Louis XVI., custom to appoint
it \\ as the
any courtier of high rank, albeit utterly unused to naval affairs, (who had, per-
hajjs, never even seen a ship,) to command the French navy. See the auto-
biography of that execrable coxcomb, the last duke of Lauzun, of his doings in
1773.
— —
256 ^fAllY II.
Sm*e his highness' forgets UAh the time and the pluco
Since thia statesman ami lord were athtiitted to grace.
Howe'er, sine* 'tis plain
He this peer will retain,
We heartily wish, for the gwn\ of his reign,
He may serve him us well as he did his last master.
And stick (piite as close in the case of disaster.
May this ptHjr, and the rest ot the h'urned and wise
That are left here onr loan, silfnt queen to advise,
Prove OS true us before, he like Clmrehill unmoved,
As wtttcht\il as Dorset, like Nottingham loved,
As just as Carmarthen,
Wlio never t(x)k farthing,
And an wise as the white dog of lady Fitzharding."*
It 18 probable that Monmouth wrote this formidable squib

as well as the " lemon letters/* for the sarcastic allusion to
the queen's loquacity and rubicund complexion, by the
expression " our wan, silent queen," proves that the author
was acquainted with her personally, and was as well iware
of her manners as of her complexion.
The disastrous news of the naval defeat at Beachy Head
is the chief subject of the queen's next letter. Again Mary
had " to strive with her heart," as she poetically expresses
herself, and communicate to her royal lord the most signal
naval overthrow that England had ever experienced :
" Queen Mary to King William.

"Whitehall, (June 29, n.s.) July 7, o.s. 1690.
" Seven in the morning.
" I am sorry there is not as pleasing news to send you from hence as what I
had last from you. I would not write last by the post, being assured the mes-
senger this morning should overtake him before they came to Highlake. Here
has been great things done, but so unanimously, that I hope, when you have an
exact account from lord Nottingham, you will approve of it. I must confas 1
think they were in the right ; bi\t if I had not, I should liave submitted my
judgment when I saw all of a mind.
" What lord Torrington can say for liimself I know not, but I Mieve he will
never be forgiven here. The letters from the fleet, before and since the engage-
ment, show sufficiently he was the only man there who had no mind to flglit,
and his not doing it was attributed to orders from hence, [i. e. from the council].
Those [orders] which were sent and obeyed, have had but very ill success, the
news of which is come this morning.
King William, as prince of Orange.

'
* The must belong to the regency of 1690, because Churchill (Marl-

verses
borough) was excluded from every other. Monmouth is the same person a
Pope's lord Peterlwrough, who wrote some poems in this metre.
— —
MARY II. 257
"I will not Btop tho mcssenffpr with Htiiyiiin for my U-ttor, nnd 'tis uii' i-coi-*
lory for ine to guy niiicli, only iis to tlw j/.irt of Hi'iulinf? Mr. UiihwU aw . T
beliovc it wiiH ii prciit irrofûlurity, iiiul for my own part I wiut norry to mic nun
here, utVr what you hud toUl m»', uiul the fear I am in of Injiiij; iiniMitMHl
upm; liut all were for it, and I conld say iiothinjj M;j:;iiiiHt it. I i-oiifern I w.w
u sorry lord Monmouth cumo so Booii hmk, for oil Oj^ree in the siuno (>])ini()n
of liiin."
The above letter was in answer to one which king William

had sent, in remonstrance against Russell being transferred
from his post in her council to superintend the disabled
fleet, for the queen had evidently sent to recall him, since
she resumes,
"Mr. UusscU was overtaken Ixjfore ho came to Canterhury, so tho nine are
i^ln tojjether. As to the ill kuopphs at sea, I am more concerned for tho honour
of tiie nation than for any thing cIkc ; hut I think it has pleased God to punish
them justly, for they really taikt as if it were imjiossiblo they should bo beaten,
wliic'li looks too much like trusting to the arm of Hesh. I pray God we may no
more deserve the punishment ; tho same (}od who has done so much can tell
what is Iwst, and I trust he will do more than wo deserve.
" Tliis afternocm I am to go to the great council, [privy council,] to take
order about the prorogation of parliament, according to your orders. I long
agftin to hear from you, which is my ;mly comfort. news may give
I fear this
(ourajje to those who retired l)efore, but God can disapiwint them
all, and I hojje
will take care of his own cause. He of his mercy send us a happy meeting
again ! that will be a happiness to me beyond all others, loving you more than
my Ufe."
In her next letter, she continued the painful subject of

the defeat to king William, who was daily expecting to
give battle to her father in Ireland :
" Queen Maey to King William.

" Wliitehall, July /,.
you knew in what fear I am that my letter I writ yesterday morning

" If
did not overtake tho post, you would pity me, for though it is but one day's
difference, yet I would not, for any thing, seem to have missed an opportunity of
writing to you ; and, indeed, as sleepy as I was a-Tuesday night I wovild have
writ, had not lord Nottingham nssured me the message should follow the next
morning early, and so ho was certain it would come time enough ; but when tho
letter came in from lord Torrington, and what was to be done being thought
necessary to acquaint you with, he stopt tho messenger without tolling me."
The queen then describes to her husband^ the proceedings

of her nine assistants, among whom she wished to choose
two, to send down to take charge of the remains of the
fleet, while lord Torrington was displaced and brought to
' In the same letter, printed from king William's Kensington box by sir John
Dalrymple. See his Appendix, pp. 126, 127.
VOL. VII. S
258 MARY IT.
Lord Monmouth and Mr. Russell, the two professed

trial. ^
seamen of the junta, both excused themselves to the queen

fro;a the ungracious office, —Monmouth, because he was
related to the delinquent, and was not to command tlie
fleet. Russell declined because he had served for many

years under Torrington as his officer, " therefore," pursues
queen Mary, in the phraseology of the times, "it would
seem something indecent in him to be forward in offerin''
his service in this particular.''
Queen Mary, in this dilemma, turned to her lord cham-
berlain, and then to lord Marlborough, who both told her,
very truly, "that they should make themselves ridiculous
if they interfered in sea matters." On this, the queen
herself named lord Devonshire and lord Pembroke ; but at
the same time she observed lord president Carmarthen

"look very black, and found that he wished to undertake
the commission himself." She drew him aside, after her
consultation broke up, and told him " she could not spare
him from his post, as king William had informed her he
was the person whose advice she was most to rely upon."
He replied, "he did not look upon himself as so tied.'*
—
Her majesty remarks, " There is another thing that I
must acquaint you with, by-the-by, that I believe will anger
him [Carmarthen] , which is, that neither Mr. Hampden nor
Mr. Pelham will sign the docket for lady Plymouth's 8000/.
He complained to me; I promised to ask them about it,
which I have done, and both of them asunder have told
me ' the sum was too great to be spared at present, when
money was so much wanted,' and, indeed, I think they
are in the right. I hope you will let me know your mind
'
He was not tried till the succeeding December, when a court-martial was
held upon him at Sheerness, and he was unanimously acquitted. He was tlie
man who led the Dutch fleet through the Downs at Williatu's invasion. He
was most unjustly treated in regard to all this odium, as the ships were utterly
out of condition, and the men in want of every necessary, as food, annnuiiition,
&c. —
He withdrew into obscurity and disgrace. Dalrymple's Appendix. On
his death, the title of Torrington was speedily granted to admiral Byiig, a
commander whom James II. had drawn from obscurity. The similarity of titie
and professica in these two admh-als, who were contemporaries, causes great
confusion in the history of the Revolution.
X.
'
"''''i
'
MARY II. 259 f
1.'
,
about it but they say sir Stephen Fox signed it by sur-

J
prise, is of their mind.

and The only thing I could say to
' that you had signed the warrant before you went,
this was,
which I thought was enough.' " Thus this mysterious order
for so large a mass from the public money is proved to have
originated wholly from king William. It was equally dis-
tasteful to his wife and his ministers. The queen proceeded

to say,
" By advice, I writ a letter to admiral Evertzen, but
I forgot to tell you so, and. not knowing he spoke English,

with much ado I writ it in Dutch, so as I believe he could
have understood me; but 'tis come back to be burnt."
ridiculous ^Vhat a literary curiosity this Dutch letter of English
jlie queen Mary would have proved, if it had not, very provokingly
!"
te ; but at to autograph collectors, " come brck to be burnt
armarthen The next paragraph of Mary's narrative mentions inter-
undertake viev^s with her reputed lovp^. lord Shrewsbury, who might
after her be considered (when all his advantages were computed)
not spare the mightiest power among the aristocracy of Great Britain.
led her he He was, at this juncture, a displaced prime-minister, yet
ely upon." displaced by his own obstinate renunciation of office :
so tied." Lord Shrewsbury was at my dinner. I told him I was glad to see him so
" '
ng that I well again ;' he said, ' He had been at Epsom for the air, or else he would
have been here sooner.' He stayed not long, but went away with Mr. Wharton,
will anger who I have not seen once at council, and but seldom any where. Lord Shrev/s-
mpden nor bury was here again at my supper, and as / thought took pains to talk, which I
did to him as formerly, by your directions. Thougli by my letter, it may be,
.th's 8000/.
you would not think me in so much pain as I am, yet I must tell you I am very
about it,
much so, but not for what lord Monmonth would have me be. He daily tells
have told me of the great dangers we are in, and now has a mind to be sent to Holland,
(of which you will hear either this, or the next post). I sco every one is
isent, when
inclined to it, for a reason I mentioned before, and, indeed, things have but a
think they melancholy prospect."
your mind It seems ambiguous whether Mary means that all her poli-
tical assistants proved alarmists and endeavoured to intimi-
rt-martlal was
He was tlie date her, like lord Monmouth ; or whether, as he did, they
He
invasion. all wished to seek refuge in Holland. In whichever way
3s were utterly
ammunition,
the sense is taken, it affords strong proof that Mary's
.1,
Appendix. On courage was firm, when the leading spirits of England

miral liyng, a
quailed before the expected storm.
nilarity of title
8, causes great
" I am fully persuaded," she continues, " that God will do some great thing
or other, and, it may be, when hiunan means fail he will show his power. This
R 2
—
260 MARY II.
makes me that I cannot be so much afraid as, it may be, I have reason for ; but
that which makes me in pain is, for fear what is done may not please you. I
am sure it is my chief desire, but you know I must do what the others think fit
and I think they all desire, as much as may be, to act according to your mind.
I long to hear from you, and know in what we have failed. For my own part,
if I do in any thing what you don't like, 'tis my misfortune and not my fault,
for I love you more than my life, and desire only to please you."
The queen's next letter is a hurried one, Tvritten under

the influence of sadness. She was suffering from disease
in her eyes, and is perforce obliged to confine the limits
of her despatch to affectionate expressions :
" QtTEEN Maey to Xing William.

" Wlutehall, July «-, 1690.
" This is only to tell you I ha^'e received yours of the 28th of June, old
style, which puts me in so many troubles, that I shall not trouble you with at
present. To-morrow night an express shall go to you that cannot possibly be
despatched to-night ; and I am not sorry, for at this time I dare say but little
by candlelight, and 'tis, to-mo?Tow, the first Sunday of the month.' I have
really hardly had time to say my prayers, and was fain to run away to K'lnsing-
ton, where I had three hours of quiet, which is more than I have had tcêther
since I saw you. That place raa'le me think how happy I was there when 1 had
your dear company ; but no\? —
I will say no more, for I shall 'nirt my own
eyes, which I want more than ever.
" Adieu think of me, and love me as much as 1 shall you, who I love more
!
than my life. I should have sent this last post, but not seeing madame Nicii-
buys hindered me then, and makes me send it now, wliich I hope you will
excuse."
Thus it if evident that the queen dared not give vent to
her overcharged heart by tears, because weeping would in-

jure her eyes. Her anxiety was increased the next day,
by the tidings that her husband had been wounded in one
of the skirmishes that preceded the hourly expected battle
in Ireland :
^ —
" Queen Mah: to King William.
" Wliitehall, July ,65, 1G90.
" I can never give God thanks enough, as long as I live, for your jfreservatlon.
I hope, in his mercy, that this is a sign he preserves you to finish the work be
has begun by you ; but I hope it may he a warning to you, to let you see you
are exposed to as many accidents as others ; and though it has pleased God to
keep you once in so visible a manner, yet you must forgive mt if 1 tell you, that
I should think it a-tempting God to venture again witliout u great necessity. I
know what I say of this kind will be attributed to fear. I own I have a great
deal for your dear person, yet I hope I am not unreasonable upon the subject, tor
' She means to intimate, that she was to receive the sacrament then.
"^
A brief sketch of the war in Ireland had place in vol. vi. j Life of Mftry
Beatrice of Modena.
MARY II. 261
I do tmst in God, and he is pleased every day to confirm me more and more in
the confidence I have in him ; yet my fears are not less, since I cannot tell if it
should be his will to suflfer you to come to harm for our sins, for though God is
able, yet many times he punishes the sins of a nation as it seems good in his
sight.
" Your writing me word how soon you hoped to send me good news, shows
me how soon you thought there might be some action, and this thought puts
me In perpetual pain. This morning, when I heard the express was come,
before Nottingham came up, I was taken with a trembling for fear, which
lord
has me yet, and I really don't know what to do. Your letter came
hardly left
just before I went to chapel, and though the first thing that lord Nottingham
told me was that you were very well, yet the thoughts that you expose yourself
thus to danger fright me out of my wits, and make me not able to keep
my trouble to myself. For God's sake, let me beg you to take more care for
the tin.e to come. Consider what depends upon your safety there are so many :
y h 1690. more important things than myself, that I think I am not worthy naming
of June, old
among them ; but, it may be, the worst may be over before this time, so that I
you with at
will no more.
say
)t possibly be
" I didnot answer your letter by the post last night, because the express
say but little
could not be despatched ; I can say little on any subject at present, for really I
ith.' I have
had my head and heart so full of you, I could mind nothing else. It is now
r to K'lnsing-
past ten o'clock. I don't toll it you for an excuse, for 1 am not sleepy."
had tcêther
e when 1 had The expectation of a battle between her father and her
'nirt my owii
husband^ s forces in Ireland, and the fdarm regarding the
[o I love more wound the latter had received, had the effect of keeping
niulame Nicii-
her majesty queen Mary wide awake at the hour of past
liope you will
ten o'clock, which was evidently the time usual for their
ve vent to
high mightinesses in Holland to go to bed, or to roost,
would in-
according to the Dutch language; for, in the course of
next day, this correspondence, she often mentions "that it is ten
[ed in one
o'clock, and that she is so sleepy she cannot write." It
2ted battle
may be observed that, in the commencement of this letter,
her majesty dwells with much spiritual unction on the
possibility "that her husband's wound was sent as a visita-
:ly ,%, 1690. tion for the sins of the British nation." She proceeds to
r ])reservatioii. ask the king's directions for the command of the fleet,
ill the work he
L't you see you
which remained still unsettled. Lord Monmouth claimed
ileased God to the command, of which Torrington had been deprived;
tell you, that
I
but Mary was fully aAvare of his Jacobite tendencies, and
t necessity. I
I have a great suspecting that his confidant, major Wildman, was author
the subject, for
of the letter.s written in lemon-juice, she declined his
ent then.
services. She wished to appoint Russell, but he positively
Life of Mary refused. Sir Richard Haddick and sir John Ashby were
proposed by the council; but sir Richrrd Haddick wished
262 MARY II.
the office might be put in commission, with two seamen
and one man of quality. And the queen adds, he thought

that person might be the duke of Grafton; first, because
he had " behaved lately very brave ' in this last business,"
*
[i. e., the defeat at Beachy Head,] and also " that he might
learn, and so in time prove good for something,'" a plain —

indication that she did not consider this illegitimate cousin
good for much without improvement. While discussing the
matter of naval command, she observes to the king
difficult
"that Shovel was considered the best officer of his age."
He had just taken her father's only remaining frigate.
The news of the long-expected battle arrived the next
day. The victory at Boyne Water obliterated from the
public mind the recent defeat of the British navy. The
disastrous naval defeat occurred on the 30th of June;'* the
land victory took place the very day after, July 1st, bit, as
may be perceived by this correspondence, the queen did not
receive the news until a week had elapsed.

" Queen Mary to King William.
" Whitehall, July ^„ 1690.
" How tobegin this lettor I don't know, or how ever to render to God thanks
—
enough for his mercies, indeed, they are too great if we look on our deserts;
but, as you say, ' 'tis his own cause,' and since 'tis for the glory of his great
name, we liave no reason to fear but he will perfect what he has begun. For
myself in pai-ticular, my heart is and acknowledgment to that
to fidl of joy
great God who has and given you such a victory, that I am
presei'ved you,
unable to explam it. I beseech him to give me grace to be ever sensible as I
ought, and that I and all may live suitable to such a mercy as this is. I am
sorry the fleet has done no better, but 'tis God's providence, and wo must not
murmur, but wait with patience to see the event. I was yesterday out of my
senses with trouble. 1 am now almost so with joy, so that I can't really as yet
tell what have to say to you by this bearer, who is impatient to return. I
I
h')pe in Gotl, by the afternoon, to be in a condition of sense enough to say much
more, but for the present I am not."
had been describing tlic situa-

If novelists or dramatists
tion of queen Mary, they would, according to the natura'
feelings of humanity, have painted her as distracted between
tenderness for her father, and her love for her husband,—
• Grafton had but a short time left " to learn and prove good for something,"
for he was killed a few months afterwai-ds at the siege of Cork, under Marl-
borough, fighting as a land soldier.
« Old style, by which all English history is dated till the middle of the last
century.
MARY II 263
mourning amidst victory for her sire, and alive only to the
grief unhallowed contests should awaken in the
that such
bosom of the woman who had been tlie indulged daughter m
of the one antagonist, and was the wife of the other. Such
feelings were attributed by the Greek tragedians to virtuous
heathens of old, and by Shakspeare to the royal heroines
of England's earlier day ; but no trace of them is to be dis-
ii;t
cerned in Mary's actual letters. Unmixed joy and exulting

thanksgiving are the first emotions which burst from her
heart in this epistolary Te Deum. Towards the end of the
letter, however, she recollects herself sufficiently to express
her satisfaction that the " late king," as she calls her father,
was not among the slain, a passage which will be read with
intense interest by those who know Mary's situation, but
who are utterly in the dark regarding her own opinion of
her extraordinary position in the world. The queen re-
sumes, after she has given vent to her joy,
" Wlien I writ the foregoing part of this, it was in the morning, soon after I
liad received yours, and 'tis now but I am not yet come
four in the afternoon
;
to myself, and fear opportunity of writing all my mind, for I am

I shall lose this
still in such a confiision of thought that x scarce know now what to say, but I
hope in God you will more readily consent to what lord president wrote last, for
methinks you have notliing more for you to do.
" I will hasten Kensington as much as it's possible, and I will also get ready
for you here, for I will hope you may come before that is done. Imust put you
in inind of one thing, believing now the season ; which is,
it is that you would
take care Every body agrees 'tis the worst in Chris-
of the church in Ireland.
tendom, There are now bishoprics vacant, and other things ; I beg you will
take time to think who you will fill them with. You will forgive me that I
trouble you with this now, but I hope you will take care of these things, which
are of so great consequence as to religion, which I am sure will be more your
care every day, now it has pleased God still to bless you with success.
" I think 1 have told you before how impatient I am to hear how yon approve
what lias been done here. I have but little part in it myself, but I long to hear
how others have plea^jod you. I am very uneasy in one thing, which is, want of
somebody to speak my mind freely to, for 'tis a great restraint to think and be
silent, and there is so much matter, that I am one of king Solomon's fools, who
am ready to burst. I and lord Nottingham agree very
believe lord president
well, though I believe the first pretends to govern all ; and I see the other [lord
Nottingham] is always ready to yield to him, and seems to me to have a great

deal of deference for him whetl. iv they always agree or not, I cannot tell. Lord
:
Marlljorough is nnich witii them, and loses 'lo opportunity of coming upon all
occasions with the others. As yet I have not found them differ, or at least so
little, that I was surprised to find it so, (I mean the whole nine,) for it has
never come to put any thing to the vote ; but I attribute that *a the great
ddlo of t'ue last
danger 1 believe all liave apprehended, which has made them all of a mind."
lill;i,
—
264 MARY II.
Great natural sagacity is shown by the queen in her

remarks on the unwonted unanimity of her coancillors.
The whole of her cabinet had so far committed themselves
with king James, that they were obliged to unite in one
common purpose to prevent his return, which they knew
would ruin them. Mary likewise adopted a very rational
idea of the origin of the intei'cepted letters written in lemon-
juice,which was suggested to her by Mr. Russell, that they
were written on purpose to be intercepted, and to raise vain
suspicions and doubts in the councillors towards each other.
While lord Monmouth and his colleague Wildman were
Hi away at the fleet, these letters ceased, but directly they
returned, the correspondence recommenced. Yet, totally
unconscious of the conclusions the queen had drawn, lord
Monmouth sedulously seized the opportunity of every con-

ference he held with her to insinuate distrusts of liir. col-
leagues, w -iich her majesty thus detailed to her pai'tner in
regality:
" I witli lord Monmouth, t'other morning, in which he
had a corversation
said, '
What
a misfortune it was that things thus went ill, which was certainly
by the faults of those that were in trust ; that it was a melancholy thing to tlie
nation to see themselves thus thrown away. And, to speak plain,' said lie, do '
not you see how all you do is known ? that what is said one day in the cabinet-
council, is wrote next day to France ? For my part,' added he, I must speak
'
plainly. I have a great deal of reason to esteem lord Nottingiiam ; 1 don't

believe 'tis he, but 'tis some in his office,' —
and then he fell on Mr. IJlaithwit.
W M I owned ' I wondered why you would let him serve here, since he would not go
with you ;' but I said, ' 1 supposed you knew why you did it.' And when he,
lord Monmouth, began to talk high of ill-administration, I told him in the same
freedom that he seemed to speak to me, ' that 1 found it very strange you were
not thought fit to choose your own ministers. That they had already removed
lord Halifax, the same endeavours were used for lord Carmarthen, and would
they now begin to have a bout at lord Notthigham too ? I would show they
would pretend even to control the king in his choice, wluch, if I were he, 1
would not sufler, but would make use of whom I pleased.'
" I can't tell if I did well or no in this, but in the free way we were speaking
I could not help it. Upon this, he [lord Monmouth] said, ' He had, indeed,
been an enemy to lord Halifax, but he had done what he could do to save lord
Cannarthen out of personal trieiulship, as well as because he believed him firm
to our interest. Upon which I took oecision to remember my obligations to
him [lord Carmarthen'] * upon accoimt of our marriage;' from which he [lord
Monmouth] still went on, that he thought it necessary the nation should he
'
satisfied.' I asked him 'if he thought that possible?' He said he could tell
' When he was lord Danby, one of the ministers of Charles II.
—
MARY II. 2G5
me much on that subject ; but we were called to council, and so our discourse
ended for that time."
The reader will observe, in this colloquy, how fiercely the

quecu resented the shadow of an attack on her friend and
lord chamberlain, lord Nottingham. She shows, too, resent-
ment because lord Halifax had been displaced from the

ministry, and her expressions are in thorough contradiction
to the resentment king William affirmed she bore that lord

for his personal ridicule of her father. Queen Mary proceeds
to give her absent husband a rapid sketch of the charac-
teristics and conduct of the chief of her councillors :
As for lord Pembroke, I never see him but in council. Lord cham [Shrews-
"
bury'] comes as little as he can with decency, and seldom speaks, but he never
comes to the cabinet council. Lord stuard, [Devonshii-e,] you know, will be a
courtier among ladies. Speaking of him puts me in mind that M. Sesak, before
we went to ciu'ds, came and made me a very handsome compliinent on your
victory and wound, and assured me 'no man living wished us a longer and
happier reign.' —
But to return to that lord, who^ I think I have named all.
I must say once my opinion, that lord Ifottingham seems to be
very hearty in
all affairs ; and, to my thinking, appears to be sincere, though he
does not take
much pains to persuade me of it upon all occasions, as others do, for he never
spoke but once of himself, yet 1 confess I incline to have a gootl opinion of him.
It may be his formal grave look deceives me. He brought me your letter yes-
terday, and I could not hold ; so he saw me cry, which 1 have hindered myself
before every body till then. Then it was impossible.

And tltis morning, when I heard the joyful news from Mr. Butler, I was in
"
pain to know what was become of the late king, [meaning her father, James II.]
and durst not ask him ; but when lord Nottingham came, I did venture to do it,
and liiul the satisfaction to hear he was safe. I know I need not beg you to let
him be taken care of, for I am confident you will for your oivn sake ; yet add
that to all your kindness, and, for my sake, let people know you would have no
hurt come to his person. Forgive me this."
In this last paragraph is comprised all that can, with

truth, be urged in Mary's ândication regarding the reports
of her
her alleged parricidal instigations against the life of
father, which had been previously brought to that hapless
parent's ears. Her sole defence rests on the passage above
mentioned, in which, nevertheless, she can find no kinder
'
"Tiireat-chaniberlain. The double regality made a perplexing duplication of
state-offices and officers ; for instance, Nottingham was not Mary's lord
lord
chamberlain as queen -consort, but held a place of more responsibility as lord
chamberlain to her as a queen-rcgnant.
' This is as
the queen wrote it ; she has, through some inten-uption, left the
construction of the sentence defective. By that lord, she means MonmoutL, and
rccMs to his insinuations against her friend lord Nottingham.
266 MARY II.
name than "the late king" for the author of her heingj
and, withal, asks " forgiveness," as if such cold and unnatural
expressions wore too kind towards her unfortunate sire.
" I have writ tliis," resumes Mnry, in her letter, " at so many times, that I
fear you will . ardly make sense of it. I long to hear what you will suy to the
proposition that will be sent you this night by the lords, and I do flatter inywlf
mightily with the hopes to see you, for which I am more i\npatient tlinn can be
expressed, loving you with a passion which cannot end but with my life."
The " proposition" on which the queen dwells with such

fond interest was, that the king, having broken the Jacobite
array, should return instantly to England. William was
too good a general not to be aware that the battle of the
Boyne, if attention had been fixed solely on its physical
advantages, was far from decisive of the contest. The
praises of William III.'s great valour in this battle have re-
sounded throughout Europe ; but he had in Ireland 30,000

—
regular and disciplined troops, he had the most formidable
train of artillery in the world at his command. Surely, the
very act of looking such a formidable force in the face, as
opponents, was one of superior valour in the ill-armed, and

undisciplined, and unpaid militia who fought for James.
That unfortunate king has been called a coward on account
of its loss, which, indeed, made good his own representa-
tions in his naval regulations, " that a wholly different genius
is required for marine and land warfare." Everj' one to his
profession. The battle of the Boyne was won by a furious
charge of cavalry, and we never heard that English sailors

were particularly skilful in equestrian evolutions,' or that a
British admiral ought to be called a coward because he was
not an adroit general of horse. When the sailor-kiiig met
the Dutch on his own element, history gave a different
account of him. The cavalrv

«
tactics of William would have
liord Dartmouth, a favourite naval pupil of James, observes that the king
•
had made him ri'nounce the land-service for ever saying, " If he serves not o\it
;
his naval ajjiirenticeship, and forgets not his land-fivshions, I svill tr\ust him with
no ship of mine." Lord Dartmouth, in one of his interesting letters to Jaiiioii
II., when admiral of the fleet at the crisis of the Revolution, writes, " I have
Bent your majesty a despatch by a Scotch nailoi on horseback but what has
•
become of either man or horse 1 know not, for you well know, sire, that we
Bailors are not quite so skilful with horses as with sliips."
-.
viiisiaa^:.
MARY II. 267
availed him as little on the seas. That most mysterious

politician, Defoe, although a Dutchman by descent, in his •'
1^ I
Memoirs of Captain Carlton, on Englishmen to

first called
notice this point, and remarks the injustice and ingratitude
of condemning their greatest admiral as a coward, because
he was not equally skilful in a cavalry- skirmish.

it
The standards and other spoils taken from king James at
'',1.
the battleof the Boyne, were by his daughter ordered to be

carried triumphant procession, and finally hung up in St.
in
James's chapel, as stimulants to her devotions. Great was
the indignation of her father's old friends and companions
in arms at this proceeding. One of them bas preserved its
memory in an epigram, entitled, —
"ON SEEING THE COLOUB8 HUNG IN St. .ÂMES'S ChAPKL.'

" Walking the park I, to iny horror, there
Saw what from hardest h'^'avts might force a tear,
The trophies of a monarch opunly
Displayed in scorn before each vulgar eye,
A crime which Absalom did never do.
Did ever he to every cobbler show
The relics of his father's overthrow ?
The author then urged king James to hurl his malediction
on his daughter, not knowing that the a^vful denunciation
liad mingled with the splendours of her coronation.
already
Montague, earl of Halifax, wrote a long poem on
Charles
the battle of tno Bovue, in heroic verse. It consists of the
most lofty eulOgii'ms on William, without either naming or
alluding to hi'=: antagonist. After lauding his valour and
generosity, he leaves it in complete mystery against whom
he fought, and but for the word " Boyne," no one could
ever guess the subject. He sums up with the presumption,

that if William had been a Frenchman, France woiUd have
said and done Luore to his honour and glory than ungrateful
lilnglishmen deemed necessary :
"Their plays, their songs, would dwell upon his wound.

And oneras repeat no other sound;
Boyue \ ould for ages be the painter's theme.
The GolHn's labour,'' and the poet's dream;
' MS. of sir Robert Strange.

' P'obably meaning the name of Gobelin, the tapestry-worker.
268 MARY IT
The wotmdod arm wonld furniHh all tVioir roomi,

And 'ilccd for ever sciirltt in their Iikjuik,'
The ^.;i , the charmiiie: qnoen herwdf, should grace

The noble piece, und in un iirttul jiliife
SotU'ii war's horrorn with l\or lovely t'nco.
Who can omit the (jueen's anspicious smile,
The pride of the fair sex, the goddess of our isle ?
Who can forget what all admired of late,
Her fesirs for him, her prudence for the state ?
Dissembling cares, she smooth'd her l(«)k8 with grace,
Doubts in her heart, and pleasure in her face;
As danger did ap])roach, her courage rose,
And piitting on the king, dismay'd his foes."
The last couplets present a true picture of the queen's per-
sonal demeanour at this tremendous crisis. Her efforts
" to grin when her heart was biirstinjij," according to her
expressions in her letters, were seen ))y by-standers in the
light she wished.

"Queen Mart to King William.
"WHiitehall, July ^^g, 1690.
" Being resolved never to miss a post, I write now to let you know I have
received yours by Mr. (Irey, who came at nine in the morning, and was dnssiiig
till one befort! he brought it. To-morrow I think to write again by liim.
Now I shall tell you that I have l)cen satisfied with the sight of lord Lincoln,
which I have so often wished for in vain. I met him as I came from prayers,
with a hundred people at least after him. I can't represent to you my surprise
at 80 unexpected an object, and so strange a one; but what he said was as mucli
so, if it were jxissihle. He called lord president [Carmarthen] by name, '' 'all
in general who are in trust) ' rogues ;' told me I must go back with him to
'
council [privy council] to hear his complaint,' which I think was against lord
Torrington. He talked so like a madman that I answered him as calmly as I
could, looking on him as such, and so with much ado got from him.
" I shall say no more now, hut that I am so sleepy I can't see but I shall ;
live and die entirely ., „ „

^ " Your
,
s.'
The unfortunate noble who was thus met by queen Mary

with a rabble at his heels, to whomhe was addressing his
wayward ideas on politics, was Edward, the last earl of
Lincoln of the elder line of Clinton. It is plain by this
amusing little letter of the queen, that her curiosity had
been excited by the reported eccentricities of that peer^

but that she did not expect so strange an encounter in her
' In allusion to the scratch which William received in the commencement
of the action.
Lmklk
MARY ir. 2G9
progress to Whitehall chapel. The earl of Lincoln then

seated luinself in Whitehall gallery,' bawling out to every
one,
" that the quct ii was shut up by three or four lords,
would not let her appear at the privy council, or suffer
ffho
her nobles to ha» *• ai <3ess to her,"

— "although," as the
queen herself ob 'rved, " he never asked it all the while."
He was evidently n ited to torment the whig junta of nine,
bv whose foipt' 'Is her 'ajesty was implicitly guided, instead
ofhavin!; rr ) the privy council. The troubles ;;
which the ( 'ê nvolved are best described by her «''<rii
pen :— ;w3i
" Whitohull, July ô,

1690.
'
I wrote to you night by the post, only to show that 1 would miss
s
no opportunity of dd und luive kejjt Mr. Grey ever since, having nothing
.1,
worth writing or troubling you with. I shall now bc"in with answering your
letter to him by him, and thank God with all my soul for the continuance of
vour goo<l success, and ho])e you will have no more to do but come back here,
wliere you are wished for by all that lovo you or themselves, I need not say —
most l)y me ; it would be a wronp: of me to suppose you doubt it.
" If the first part of your lett ^r was extreme welcome, the next was not less
80, for next to knowing of your healtli :''id success, that of your Iwing satisfied
with what has been done In re is the Iwst new.^ and till then I was very much in
pain. You will see, also, that we have had the good fortune here to have done
just as you would have had it yourself, in sending Mr. Ilusscll down to the fleet;
but that was prevented, as you will know before this. I told Mr. Russell what
your design was there, and asked what 1 might write on it now
'
He told 'i '
me 'he should be always ready to serve you any way,' and seemed mightily
pleased at what I had told him. 1 did not say it openly at the committee, [the
council of nine,] liecause I know how much lord Monmouth would have been
troubled but I told lord president as you writ him word, luid lord Nottingham,
;
and lord Marlborough. It seems he [Russell] still wishes for a commission to

other people, and not to be alone. The day that I received yours by Mr. Grey,
wlilch was on Tuesday noon, the great council was cidled extraordinarily, being
thought fit to acquaint them with the good news."
By the " great council," the queen means to designate the

privy council, which the king and his ministers had warned
her from attending often. The members conceived their
functions were unconstitutionally superseded by a body bear-
ing some resemblance, at least in name, to the Venetian
" council of ten."
Mary was placed in a situation of the most exquisite diffi-
culty, which no person could have passed through without

' The reader must remember that the great palace of Whitehall, the seat of
commencement
royalty and government, was not yet burnt down.
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WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580
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— —
270 MARY II.
imminent danger^ excepting one who possessed her peculiar

concentrativeness of purpose. Had she felt an atom of
kindliness to father, sister, brother, nephew, or friend or
even a particle of egotism or personal ambition which was
not centered in that second self, her ungracious and ungrace-
ftd little partner, she could not have steered the vessel of
state steadily enough to have avoided the shoals of the oli-
garch faction on the one side, and the rocks of Jacobitism
on the other. She likewise had to dread the political jea-
lousy of licr spouse, however well she might govern, if she
put herself too forward in her function of queen-regnant.
This dread is apparent in the continuation of her narrative,
where she expresses her reluctance to attend the privy coun-
cil, and describes the stormy scene raised therein because
she had hitherto denied her presence, according to her hus-

band's orders :
" Seeing you had left me to the advice of the committee of nine when m go,
[to the privy council,] I asked them in the morning, • If they thought it neces-
sary ? that, formy part, I did not.' Lord president Carmarthen said, • No.'
M !!-|
In the afternoon, when the privy coimcil met, all began, it seems, to ask ' if I
came ? * The lord president Oarmarthen said, * No.' Upon which, there were
some who grumbled. Sir B. Howard made a formal speech, wherein he hinted
many things, as if ho thought it not reasonable that I did not come to privy
ooimcil. He was seconded by the duke of Bolton."
T>.at afternoon faction ran very high in the privy council.
In the midst of the murmurs on account of her majesty's
absence, lora Monmouth and the lord steward [Devonsniie]
thought proper to leave their seats at the council-board and
enter her private apartments, where they began to entreat
her to accompany them back, to appease the malcontents.

The queen, who shrewdly suspected lord Monmouth to be
the secret mover of the storm, and dreading the displeasure
of her husband if she appeared too often at the more public
council, thus expresses herself in the dilemma :
" I was surprised at it, for they sent for me out cf my closet. I will not
trouble you with all they said, but they were very pressing ; and lord steward
[Devonshire] told me there were many there, who absolutely told him 'they
would not speak but before me ; that they were privy councillors established by
law, and did not know why they should be denied my presence.*
" I answered them [i. e. Devonshire and Monmouth] at first as civilly as I
could, and aa calmly j but being much pressed, I grew a little peevish, and told
them that, between us, I must own I thought it a humour [caprice] in some
^
MAKY IT. 271
there, which I did not think myself boond to please; for,

[of the privy council,]
ihould I come now for this, I should at last be sent for when any body had a
mind to it, and tliat I wondered they, who had heard me in the morning say I
t)ould not come, should now be so importunate.' But all I could say would not
Mtisfy them, and had not lord Nottingham come in, I believe they would not
have left me so soon. I cannot tell if I did well or no, but I think I did. This
vas the same day lord Lincoln was here, as I wrote you word before, and he sat
in the gallery crying aloud

' that Ave or six lords shut me up, and would let
nobody else come near me,' yet never asked it all the time.
/T'
"Lord Nottingham will give you an account of lord mayor's being called
next day to the great council, [privy council,] where I was ; but I must needs
obierve that he came with his answer ready wrote, and pulled out his paper and
read it. Upon which, many of those who came with him looked upon one
another as amazed, and the more because the lord president did not desire it till
Friday."
The queen suspected some treachery in the singular circum-

stance that the 'lord mayor' brought his speech ready written
in his pocket, and pulled it out, and read it to her. Her
majesty was not quite so familiar with speeches ready cut
and dried as her successors have been this was one of the
:
first experiments of the kind, and queen Mary confessed

herself amazed at the proceeding.
members of the privy council were bent on protecting
The
those Jacobite lords who had been marked down by herself
and council for imprisonment and prosecution. A plot was

maturing in Scotland which gave great uneasiness to William
and Mary, and, in conjunction with the French invasion,
might have wrecked their government, if the leaders, lord
Annandale and lord Breadalbane, had not severally visited

the king and queen, and made their confessions, to the dis-
comfiture of their colleagues. Lord Ross, then in London,
was one of those betrayed. Queen jMary thas expresses
herself regarding his apprehension: "Another thing hap-
pened that I must tell : lord Nottingham had secured lord
Rosse, and now desired the [privy] council that he might be
sent to the Tower, as well as so many others. All consented.
Duke of Bolton asked 'Why?' Lord Nottingham said
'There was informations against him and more, his own
;
letters to sirJohn Cochrane '/ upon which all said a warrant

should be drawn. But when it came to be signed, duke of
Bolton would not ; he hindered lord Devon by a whisper.
272 MART II.
and his son by a nod.' Lord Montague would not sign it

neither. If this be usual I cannot tell, but methinks it
ought not to be so." t
Her majesty
continues in her letter to discuss, in no very
perspicuous terms, the half-revealed Jacobite plot in Scot-
land, and mentioned the opinion of her "junta of nine"
that James Montgomery,'* a whig lately turned Jacobite
sir
who was deeply concerned in the plot, " ought to be arrested

and sent from Scotland, for he was crafty and malicious, and
his confessions, if listened to, would implicate honest per-
sons;" meaning, doubtless, by 'honest persons,^ not only
various members of the now discontented oligarchy who
had aided in the revolution, but most of themselves,—the
queen's assistant junta. Many traces are to be found in
Mary's letters of the suspension of the habeas corpus act;

and if we may judge by the glee with which she mentions
persons being now " clapt up " who were fluttering iu the
park but a few hours before, she had some satisfaction in the
exertion of this despotism.
Jacobitism was, in the year 1690, so frequent in every-day
life, that it was a common occurrence to see a messenger
enter a house, a theatre, or Hyde-park, show a privy council
warrant to some gallant, all embroidery, cravat, and ruffle,
and march him ofP, h ;ed and befringed as he was, from

among a circle of bt.i , to the Tower. If not seriously
implicated in any of the numerous plots then in active con-
coction, either in Scotland or England, the prisoner was let
out, after some weeks' detention, much impoverished in
purse by his visit to the grim fortress, for no one in the
' Lord Ross seems to have married a daughter of Rachel lady Russell, and
was in consequence closely connected with the family of Cavendish and their
powerful alliances. He is frequently mentioned familiarly in the manuscript

letters in the Devonshire Papers,
' Sir James Montgomery had been in strong opposition to James II. during
his reign he was one of the principal deputies who had brought the offer of
:
the Scottish crown to William and Mary. He became malcontent, as well as

the other revolutionist leaders, Breadallxine, Annandale, and Ross, because liis
'1 *i desire of gain was not sufficiently satisfied. He had therefore joined the Jacobite
plot of 1689, which was disorganized by the death of Dundee at Killiecrankie.
(See Dalrymple's Memoirs and Appendix.)
—
MARY ir. 273
seventeenth century was freed from the Tower at less than

the cost So common
of 200/. in fees and other expenses.
was this manoeuvre in the reign of William and Mary, that
the matter-of-fact comedies of the day make these arrests,
either feigned or real, incidents for the purpose of removing
rivals, or furnishing adventures to the hero of the piece. In

illustration of these traits of the times may he quoted a pas-
sage fi'om an 'original letter of sir George Rooke,' who seems
not a little scandalized at the conduct of one of queen

Mary's captives, when her majesty was pleased to sign a
privy-council warrant for his liberation. "I could easily
believe that my lord Falkland was very much transported
with his release from the Tower, but did not think that he
would leap from thence into a ball."
Jacobite poetry had formed a powerftd means of offence

against the revolutionary government. It had originated in
opposition to the faction which strove to exclude James II.,
when duke of York, from the throne. The first Jacobite

songs, " York, our great admiral," and " We'll stand to our
landlord as long as we 've breath," were decidedly of English
composition; but the subject was caught up in the more

musical r.ad poetical land beyond the Tweed. Numerous
Jacobite lyrics were adapted to the rhythm of the exquisite
melodies of Scotland. Some were tender in pathos ; others

bold and biting in satire. There was one of the latter,
written by the heir of Lothian, which dashed at the points
on which the four persons of the royal family in England

were most liable to censure, and combined them in one fierce
couplet :
" There's IVfary the daughter, there's Willy the cheater.

There's Qeordie the drinker, there's Annie the eater."
t'-m
Another party-song took its rise within a few months

of the accession of William and Mary. It was hummed
ty every voice, and being set to a bold original air, haunted
every ear, although it was but a burst of audacious dog-
gerel :—
* In the MS. collection of his grace the duke of Devonshire.
VOL. VII.
T
— ; ' '
274 MARY II.
" Ken ye the rhyme to porringer ?

Ken ye the rhyme to porringer ?
»
King James the Seventh had ae daughter.
And he gave her to an Granger.
.••/,,
Ken ye how he requited him ? < , .
^, Ken ye how he requited him ?

The dog has into England come.
And ta'en the crown in spite of him ! i
The rogue he sal na keep it lang.

To budge we'll make him fain agfun ;
We'll hang him high upon a tree, '^
King James shall ha'e his ain again !"
The plaintive and elegant Jacobite songs of this period

are not numerous. The exquisite one, both in words and
melody, by Ogilvie of Inverquharity, written after the loss
of the battle of the Boyne, "It was a' for our rightful
king," has previously been quoted. Perhaps the following
beautiful which queen Mary is alluded to, was
song, in
composed by the same brave exile. It is the lament of
a Jacobite lady for the absence of her lover at St. Ger-
mains :
" I ha'e nae kith, I ha'e nae kin,

r Nor ane that's dear to me.
For the bonny lad that I lo'e best, -
He's far ayont the sea.

'
i He's gane with ane* that was our ain,
'
And we may rue the day, , ; . ,
j
When our king's ae' daughter came,

" '.!
To play sae foul a play. "'• > •
'''i-i i" '
' ' ' Oh, gin I were a bonny bird, }
. !
i !
Wi' wings that I might flee. 1 • '>
Then I wad travel o'er the main.
My ain true love to see.
Then wad I tell a joyfiil tale • '
'r'lr To ane that's dear to me, ! i i ;.
And sit upon a king's window,

,:)ti! f;
And sing my melody."
At St. Germains, the window of the room once tenanted
by king: James juts boldly over a commanding view, as
,., 'J,
> Jbm^ner
is the answer to this quaint question.
' James the sweetest Jacobite poet of his day, was in the
II. Ogilvie,
m Scottish brigade, being one of the ofiicers of the Dumbarton regiments broke by
William III. for refusing to take the oaths to him. He fought at the Boyne for
James II., and fell at the battle of the Rhine.
' Mary ae daughter, is ' eldest daughter.' :
fyiKimSWRISq
'
MARY II. 275
if to invite such winged minstrels,

and strongly did it —
recall this exquisite old melody to the mind of the writer,
when standing, in musing mood, within it. The con-
cluding verses allude to the plots of the period, regarding
which the Jacobites were high in hope :by " the crow,"
or "corbie," is meant William III. and his party.
,: " The adder lies i'th' corbie's nest,
Beneath the corbie's wame; •
%f: \
And the blast that reaves the corbie's nest.
Shall blaw our good king hame.^
{ Then blaw ye east, or blaw ye west,

"'•'
Or blaw ye o'er the faem,
;! >; Oh! bring the lad that I lo'e best.
And ane I dare na name."
The queen, in full expectation that king William would

return speedily from Ireland, found it requisite to apologize
to him that his Kensington villa was not ready for his re-
ception. She concludes her letter, dated July ^%, with these
words: "You don't know how I please myself with the
hopes of seeing you here very soon, but I must tell you
that it is impossible to be at Kensington. Your closets
here are also not in order, but there is no smoke in the
summer, and the air much better than in another season.
Pray let me if not by yourself, then tell
have your orders ;
lord and let him write. I see I can hardly end
Portland,
this, but I must force myself, without saying a word more
but that I am ever yours —

more than ever, if that be possi-
ble—and shall be so till death."
The next letter was written by the queen from her bed,
at eleven at night,which hour she was too sleepy
at
to write a long one, having fatigued herself by a visit to
Hampton-Court, to superintend the Dutch devices disfi-
guring that ancient palace. The grand apartments, where
the English-born sovereigns held their state, had been de-
molished ; and had it not been for a felicitous lack of money
and Portland stone, not a fragment of their uoblte coiiiitry-
ce would have been left :— '/
T 3
W '
276 MARY it;
"QuBBN Mart to Kino William.'

" Whitehall, 1690, July n. s., at eleven at night.
i|,
" You me
from answering your letter I received yesterday morn-
will excuse
ing, (which was writ on Sunday last,) when you know I have been this mominif
to Hampton-Court and back again by noon, and ever since luive had one or other
to speak to me, of which I will give you an account when I have more time.
Now I shall only tell you that things go on there [at Hampton-Court] very
slowly. Want of money and Portland stone are the hindrances, and, indeed, in
a time when there are such pressing necessitys, I am almost ashumed to speali
about it ; and yet it is become so just a debt, that it ought to be paid, I mean —
the privy seal which you passed long ago.
" 1 fancy the joy at St. Patrick's church was greater than can be exprest, and
wish I had been with you ; but though at a distance, none ever praised God so
heartily for many reasons, chiefly that of your wonderful deliverance, upon which,
the queen dowager sent lady Arlington to compliment me. J am now in ray bed,
having bathed, and am so sleepy I can say no more, but that 1 am ever
and entirely « Your's."
In the three succeeding days she wrote two more letters
to her husband, full of hopes of seeing him quickly, mingled

—
with fears that the French ships which then rode victors
both in the English and Irish Channels, in a manner un-
—
precedented for centuries, should intercept liim on his
return.
"All my fears," observes the queen,' "is* the French ships, which are
going to St. George's Channel, and are already at Kinsale. If those should
hinder you, what will become of me ? I think the fright would take away my
reason. But I hope the express, which goes this evening to sir Cloudesley Shovel,
will come time enough to prevent any surprise. I am the most impatient
creature in the world for an answer about your coming, which I do hope may be
a good one, and that I shall see you, and endeavour myself to let you see, it it'
be possible, that my heart is more yours than my own."
The queen, in continuation, gives more laudable proofs of
ber sincerity in religion than can previously be discovered in
her conduct.
" I have been desired," she says to her husband, " to beg you not to be too
quick in parting with the confiscated estates, but consider whether you will not
keep some for public schools, to instruct the poor Irish. For my part, I must
needs say that I think you would do very well, if you would consider what care
can be taken of the poor souls there ; and, indeed, if you would give me leave, I
must tell you I think the wonderftil deliverance and success you have had, should
oblige you to think upon doing what you can for the advancement of true
religion and promoting the gospel."*
Alasking William, like all mere military sovereigns,
!
had
no endowments to bestow on Christian civilization of any
> Dalrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 138. * Ibid., p. 141-
» So written. * Dalrymple's Appendix, part ii. P ^ *!•
W'W
— "'"":n^;!i
\% V;*
—
MARY II. 277
kind. The property she mentions was the private inherit-

ance of her father from the earls of Clare and Ulster. It
was husband to his mistress, Elizabeth Villiers.
given by her
Probably it was some intimation of its infamous destination
that prompted Mary to make the request that it might be
appropriated to theabove virtuous use ; but her regal partner

littlethought of any atonement for the excessive miseries
inflicted on wretched Ireland during his reign. Far &om
that, it is to be feared that he was the cause of many atro-
cities being perpetrated by his cruel troops : the slightest
mention of one thrills the nerves with horror. When
William was compelled to raise the siege of Waterford, he
was asked, " In what manner he should dispose of the sick
and wounded prisoners ?"

—
" Burn them \" was his ill-tem-
pered reply. There is too much reason to believe that this
peevish expletive was literally obeyed ; for one thousand of
these unfortunates were destroyed in this inhuman manner^
by the place in which they were penned directly afterwards
bursting into flames, in which they miserably perished.'

Towards the end of July, it was found necessary that
queen Mary should in person review the militia, which had
been called out for the defence of the country, then threat-
ened with invasion by the victorious fleets of France. This
was trenching very closely on the office of her military lord
and master, and she evidently deemed it proper to apolo-
gize for playing the general as well a he sovereign in his
absence :
" I go," she says in her next letter, " to Hyde-park, to see the militia drawn
out there, next you may believe I go against my will
Monday j I still
must come back to my first saying ; which is, that I do hope and flatter myself
that you will be come back, if it can be with safety. I'm sure if that can't be,
I shall wish you may rather stay where you are, though I long never so much to
«ee you, than that you should venture your dear person, which is a thousand
times more so to me than my own self, and ever will be so while I breathe."
All that has been hitherto known of Mary II. has been
imbibed by the public from Burnet's panegyric. But with
what promptitude would the revolutionary bishop have de-
t
molished his own work, could he, like us, have read her
1,
'
Porter's History of Ireland. It is cited by the author of " Ireland as a
Kingdom and Colony."
ill
278 MARY II.
majesty's letter to the king, of July ^, and seen the con-

temptuous reluctance with which she acceded to his desire
of having his "thundering long sermon" on the Boyne
victory printed.Many passages in these letters, written
with unstudied grace and simplicity, prove that Mail's
tastes in composition were elegant and unaffected; conse-
quently, Burnet's style must have been odious to her. How
diflPerently did the man himself and the world believe
he
was rated in her majesty's estimation Let her speak for
!
herself, as follows " I will say no more at present, but

:
'
that the bishop of Salisbury made a thundering long sermon

this morning, which he has been with me to desire me to
print, which I could not refuse, though I should not have
ordered it, for reasons which I told him 1 Km. ex-
treme impatient of hearing from you, which I hope in God
willbe before I sleep this night ; if not, I think I shaL not
rest. But if I should meet with a disappointment of your
not coming, I don't know what I shall do, for my desire of
seeing you is equal to my love, which cannot end but with
my life."
"QPKEN MA.BT TO KiNG- WiLlIAM.
" Whitehall, July ^, 1690.
" Every hour makes me more impatient to hear from you, and every thing I
hear stir I think brings me a letter. I shall not go about to excuse myself; I
know 'tis folly to a great degree to be so uneasy ajs I am at present, when 1 have
no reason to apprehend any ill cause, but only might attribute your silence to
your marching farther from Dublin, which makes the way longer. I have stayed,
till I am almost asleep, in hopes ; but they are vain, and I must once more go to
bed in hopes of being waked with a letter from you, which I shall get at last, 1
hope."
By the conclusion of this letter may be gathered, that her

majesty's councillors were much agitated with quarrelsome
and that stormy discussions constantly sprang up,
divi. lions,
to her great uneasiness. In truth, the immediate danger of

her father's restoration had frightened them into something
like unanimity while the queen presided over them; but
* Dalrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 142. A panegyrist of the queen has

published some of her l*>tters, but has carefully omitted this passage, the editor
being an admirer of Burnet. No one ought to touch doctiments in such a spirit.

Letters and diaries ought to speak honestly for themselves; then let readers
draw their own deductions, if they are not satisfied with those of the biographer.
I| a rmtmi^smm'^^j^
MARY II. 279
after Boyne they deemed that danger

the battle of the
passed,and they relapsed, in consequence, into their usual
state of factious animosity. Their tempers had previously
greatly annoyed her liege lord, who had prepared her for
their troublesome behaviour. She had secretly imagined

that he found fault from his own cynical spirit; she thus
owns that he knew them better than she did :
" I cannot resolve to write you allthat haa past at council this day, till which
time I thought you had given me wrong characters of men ; but I now see they
answer my expectation of being as little of a mind as of a body.*
" Adieu! do but love me, and I can bear all."
As the king was still detained in Ireland, Mary's next
despatch brought details more particular of the quarrels

which pervaded both the cabinet and the privy council, and i
had for their object the appointment of commanders of the

1,
shattered and fugitive navy, then skulking dishonourably in

1
the ports of the Thames. The queen mentions that she had 1
had the vapours in the evening of the 27th of July, having

been wori'ied by the mad lord Lincoln that morning. The
term " vapours " requires explanation, as much as any other
historical antiquity of a bygone day: we believe it is syno-
nymous with an " attack on the nerves " in the present
century. But nervous complaints were classed by queen
Mary's court into three separate maladies: these were va-
pours, megrims, and spleen. Vapours, we believe, veered
in symptoms towards hysterics, megrims to nervous head-
ache, while the spleen simply meant a pain in the temper.
Pope, poem, the Rape of the Lock,
in his brilliant court
represents all ihree keeping watch round his fainting Be-
linda, a fair belle of the courts of queen Mary and queen
Anne, Mrs. Arabella Fermor by name, from whom the lord

Petre of that day had contumaciouisly, and against her con-
sent, stolen a curl. Queen Mary may be excused, then, for

having had one of these feminine afflictions, especially when
she had been agitated by conflicting feelings that day,
plagued by the council, and beset by a madman withal,

according to her own description in the following letter :
' The queen means, that her councillors are no more " one in mind, than
% ore one t» Jody." ^ , ,
.
ki r
280 MAUY II
"QuKiM MiBT TO Kino Wiixum.'

" Whitehall, July
f|.
" Could you but gueaa at iviy iinpationcu for a letter, you would b«]
able to
judge of my joy at roooivlng youra from TimoHn. At preaent I almll nay nothing
to you, but that I have, at laat, aucn the council in a ffrcai heat, but Hliall nay
till I aee you to tell you my mind u()on it. Lord Nottingliam will M>nd you thn
account the co miaaionora have brought tVom aea, of the aaaurunce of the fleet
being roiuly \Ve<lneaday next.
" Lord Lincoln," purauea hor mi^raty'a liiHt4iric*nl narrative, " waa with
mo
thia afternoon no leaa than an hour and a hulf, rofonnitig the fleet, correcting
abuaoa, and not ahy, either, of naming ])er8ona. He talked ao |)trfectly liice a
madman, any thing mora in my life ho made nie tliu moit
aa I never heard :
extravagantett complimcnta in the world, but waa by no moana aatlHfled that I

would do nothing he dcaircd me. Ho bad an expreaaion that I have heard often
within thia few daya ; which ia, ' that I have the power in my hand, and they
wonder I do not make uao of it j' and ' why ahould 1 atay for your return?' And
* whether I thould [ought to] lose ao nmch time aa to write you
word or no, is
doubted; that ia, when they muat atay till an anawer come.' I Mhall tell you
more of thia when I ahall be ao happy once more to aee you, or when I can write
you a long letter, for I have taken the vapourt, and dare not to-night. But
you know, whatever my lettera are, my heart ia more youra than my own."
> Dalrymplfi'a Appendix, part ii. p. 143.
i.*-
f:.;^
; '
. I
— —
i-,
y
MARY II.
/^
QUEBN-REONANT OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.
CHAPTER VII.
Queen Mary nrged to aaaume sovereignty tncLpuudently of her husband Dia* —

logues —
with sir Thotnus Leo Affronted by him —
Dialogue with lord Devon*
iliire— —
Her perplexities Her arrangements fur the kuig's return Laments —
the unfinished state of Kensington-pnlace— —
His angry reproof Her humbia
—Preparations Kensington—General
apologies at of h mting— Pro-
style •
ceedings of the Anne— Queen goes

princess Campden-house
to look at
Young duke of Gloucester there — William
settled II I. 's letter
concerning
the queen — Her Whitehall
celebration-ball at —The queendeferred disap.
pointedof her husband's rclnri — Continuation her — Hero." letters difficulties
— Her
increase with naval matters— Listens
troubles Dutch —Joy to cabals at
the king'sapproval — Announces that Kensington-palace ready — is Intercedes
forHamilton —Her interviews with informeVs— Detects a — Urges the plot
king'sreturn — State of England under her sway — Her Whitehall aversion to
—Receives —Communes with Jacobite
Zulestein —Sends traitors their secret
confessions toWilliam —Mentions
III. Payne— Her fondness
Nevill Hol- for
— Sends cannon and money her husband—Mentions
land to —Her its loss
dialoguewith — Her tender

Russell the king— Gossip about
expressions to his
—Her anguish of mind— Dread of the
relatives campaign Flanders-
king's in
Receivesan amber cabinet— Hears news of the landing— Enmity to
kiti^'s
Catharine of Braganza— Meets king William — Their Kensington
residence at
government —
i
—King's of
jealousy his wife's costume. Traits of
1
Hr'
Whether for the purpose of breaking the

unanimity of pur- =1
pose between the king and queen, or really from motives of

* ti"
personal preference to herself as the native-bom monarch, ii 1
it is certain that a strong party existed, eager to urge her
majesty to acts of independent sovereignty. It is no slight

amplification of her conjugal virtue to find her strenuously
resisting every temptation to her own separate aggrandize-
ment. A long historical despatch from the rueen to her

absent partner opens, according to custom, like a love-letter,
as follows :
—
i-;'.'
282 MARY II.
"Queen Mart to Kino Wiiiiam.

" Wliitehnll, Aug. 1, n.s. (July 21, o.s.) 1690.'
" Last night 1 received your letter with so mucli joy, that it was seen by
my
face, by those who knew the secret of it, that you were coming. I will not take
more of your time with endeavouring to tell you what is impossibl" to be ex-
pressed ; but you know how much I love you, and therefore you will not doubt
of my delight to think I shall soon see you. I will not, at this time, tell you
aay thing that can be writ by others."
The gist of the political part of the epistle is the detail of

the feuds in the two councils, founded on the facts that the
king and queen wished Mr. Russell to take the command of
the fleet. Subsequent events proved they were perfectly
right ; but Russell would not take the responsibility after
the disastrous defeats which had succeeded each other since
the Revolution. He chose to have two partners, one a no-
bleman, —his friend lord Shrewsbury, the ex-minister; the
other, a seaman. The queen did not object to the appoint-
ment but she always named him with
of Shrewsbury,
mysterious prudery. Both herself and the king insisted on
the third admiral being sir Richard Haddick ; but Russell
remained obstinate, for he hated Haddick. The lords of
the admiralty, too, thought fit to place themselves in strong
opposition to the queen, and in her next letter are repre-
sented as positively disobedient and contumacious to her
authority, —
ostensibly out of hatred to sir Richard Haddick,
between whom and sir Thomas Lee (a leading man in the
admiralty) there was a violent enmity. The queen con-
cluded her letter with these words :
" 'Tis impossible for Kensington to lie ready for your coming, though I will
do my when you are come I will make

best that you shall not stay long for it :
my apology for the matter when I see you. I shall now only tell you I am in
great pain to know if I have done well in this business, or no. Pardon all my
faults, and believe that I commit none willingly ; and that I love you more
than my life."
Two days afterwards, the queen describes, with some ani-
mation, a dialogue between herself and sir Thomas Lee.'*
" So the commissioners of the admiralty were sent for, and lord president
Carmarthen told them what the resolution was.' Sir Thomas grew as pale as
' Dalrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 146.

That admirals Russell and Haddick should command the
' fleet, in conjunction
with some great noble.

— , «
MARY II. 288
death, me that the custom was, that tlicy [the lords of the admiralty]
and told *
used to recommend, and that they were to answer for the persons, since they
were to give them the commissions, and did not know but what they might be
called to account in parliament.' Lord president answered and argued with

them. At last, sir Thomas Lee came to say plainly, ' Huddick was the man
they did not like.' He added, afterwards, ' I might give a commission if I
liked, but they would not.' When I saw he talM long, and insisted upon their
privilege, I said, I perceived, then, that the king had given away his own
'
power, and could not make an admiral which the admiralty did not like.' Sir
Thomas Lee answered, ' No j no more he can't.' I was ready to say, ' Then the
king should give the commission to such as would not dispute with him j' but I
did not, though I must confess I was heartily angry. It may be, I am in the
\iTong; but, as yet, I cannot think so. Lord president, after more discourse,
desired them to retire."
The blunt answer of sir Thomas Lee could not be digested

by the queen, who soon found that he was set on by her
Mend Russell, whose hatred to Richard Haddick was sir
equal to that of sir Thomas Lee. step taken by The next

the lords of the vdmiralty was a downright refusal to sign the
commission. Carmarthen, the lord president, brought this

intelligence to the queen. He was, or pretended to be, in a
very great rage. The observations her majesty made' on his
angry demeanour, display good sense and command of
temper :
" I what answer was to be sent ? He was very angry,

askt lord president
and talJct at a great rate j but I stopped him, and told him ' / was angry
enongh, and desired he would not be too much so, for I did not believe it a
proper time.' Lord president answered, ' The best answer be could give from
me was, that they, the lords of the admiralty, would do well to consider of it.'
I desired he would add, ' that I could not change my mind, if it were proper to II III
He said, ' It was rather too little.'
P|
!''
say so much.'
- -îJ'î"
"I saw Mr. Russell this morning, and I found him very much out of humour.
Ee excused sir Thomas Lee, and would not believe he had said such a thing as
I told you. I said, ' Indeed that he had angered me very much;' but he [Rus-
sell] endeavotired to talk it over. He
that Haddick was not acceptable to
said, '
them, because they believed lord Nottingham had recommended him, and they
did I saw Russell shifted off signing the commission, and,
not like that.'
indeed, Inever saw him out of humour before. There was company by, so I
had not a fair opportunity of saying more to him ; only he prest naming lor"?
means to allay
Shrewsbury for a third, [as joint admiral of the fleet,] as the best
all these things. But
had not time or convenience to say more to him then
as I
I was fain to leave off at a place I would have said more upon. This I had the
opportunity of doing this morning to lord Mai-lborough, who came to me about
the same thing. I told him why I should be unwilling to name Shrewsbury
myself, for I thought it would not be proper for me, by any means, to name a
*
person who had quitted [i. e., resigned office] just upon your going away, though

—
284 MARY II.
I was persuaded you would trust him, and had a good opinion of him yet
for ;
me to take upon me alone, (for we concluded none would be for it but those
only
who are trusted with the secret,' I mean lord Marl and Mr. Russell, and lord
cham,) for me, I say, now so to name him [Shrewsbury] without being assured
from yoiuêlf of your approbation, I thouglit not proper,"
The queen's pique that Shrewsbury should have resi-'ned

oflBce just at the time when he had an opportunity ot assist-
ing her in reigning, is, perhaps, apparent here. The rest
of her detail of passing events is full of interesting indi-
yidual particulars of her thoughts and feelings at this trying
epoch :
" I pray God to send you here quickly, for besides the desire I have to see you
for my own sake, (which is not now to be named,) I see all breaking out into
flames. Lord steward [Devonshire] was with me this afternoon from sir Thomas
Lee, to excuse himself to me. He said, The reason was, because he saw this
'
[the appointment of Haddick] was a business between two or three a concerted —

thing, and that made him; he could not consent.' I told him [Devonshire] he '
himself could have assured sir Thomas Lee it was your own orders, in your letter
from you to me.' At which he shaked his head. I askt, ' If he or sir Tliomas
Lee did not believe me ? ' He said, ' sir Thomas Lee thought that Haddiok was
imposed on the king.' I said, ' I did not believe that was so easy.* '
I mean,' said
lord [Devonshire], recommended by persons they don't much like.'
'
Indeed,
— '
my lord, if they only dislike sir Richard Haddick because he is recommended by

such as they don't approve, it will only confirm me in the belief that he is a fit
man, since they make no other objection against him. I confess,' said I, my '
lord, I was very angry at what sir Thomas Lee said yesterday ; but this is to
make me more so, since I see 'tis not reason, but passion makes sir T. Lee speak
thus.' Upon which, we [the queen and lord Devonshire] fell into discourse of
the divisions, [quarrels in council,] which we both lamented, and I think we
were both angry, though not with one another. He complahjed ' that people
were too much believed that ought not to be so, and we could not agree.' I
should never have done, should I say [repeat] all I hear on such matters but ;
what I have said, I think absolutely necessary for you to know. If I have been
too angry, I am sorry for it. I don't believe I am easily provoked, but I think
I had reason. If I may say so, I do not think people should be humoured to
this degree. Mr. Russell again desired the duke of Grafton should not be in,
[t. e, in command of the fleet,] and lord Nottingham, who was one of those who
mentioned him before, desired me to let you know he is concerned at haviiig
mentioned him, having since been infonned how unfit he is."
On account of his rude and brutal manners, which exas-
perated every one with whom he came in contact, the queen,

who had wished this illegitimate cousin of hers to be em-
ployed that he might " become good for something,^' now
• What the secret was, is not very clear. In all probability, it was that king
William was exceedingly desirous for Shrewsbury again to take oflice, let that
office be whatsoever he chose. It seems very odd that a courtier of rank, not
bred in the naval profession, should be solicited to command a fleet, but such
were the customs of that day.
— — —
MART IT, 285
f ik from the responsibility of her recommendation. She

Xi'tinues thus :
One thing more T must desire to know poditively, which is, about Kensing-
"
ton,whether you will go there though my chamber is not ready. Your own
apartment, lord Portland's, Mr, Overkirk's, and lady Darby's are done; but
mine impossible to be used, and nobody else's lodgings ready. The air there is
now free from smoke, but your closet as yet smells of paint, for which I voill ask
pardon when I see you. This is the true state of your two houses, but if you
will go lye only at Kensington, for I suppose your business will keep you here
[i. e. at Wliitehall] all

day, pray let itie know. You may be sure I shall be
very willing to suffer any inconvenience for the sake of your dear company, and
I vrish I could suffer it all ; for I deserve it, being something in fault, though I
have excuses which are not lies I hope," concludes the queen, " this
long letter may meet you so near, that yon may bring your own answer. If
not, if you love me, either write me a particular answer yourself, or let lord
Portland do it for you. You see the necessity of it for the public ; do a little
also for my private satisfaction, who love you much more than my own life."
The succeeding letter is wholly devoted to the personal
and private arrangements of the royal pair :
"Queen Mary to King William.>

" Wliitehall, Aug. 5, N.s. (July 24, o.s.) 1690.
"Last night I received yours from Benit-bridge, by which I find you designed
to summon Waterford again last Monday. I beseech God give you good success,
and send you safe and quickly home. There was an order taken yesterday in
council for the proroj/weing the parliament for three weeks. I have been this
evening at Kensington, for though I did believe you would not be willing to stay
at Whitehall, yet what you write me word makes me in a million of fears, espe-
cially since I must needs confess my fault, that I have not been pressing enough
till it was too late."
King William had certainly written a sharp reproof to his

loving on the subject of Kensington-palace not being
spouse,
ready for his reception. How humbly she asked pardon for
his closet at Kensington smelling of paint, has been shown
in the preceding letter. It was rather unreasonable of the

king, who only left her in the middle of June, to expect
that, with an exhausted treasury, his queen could prepare
his palace for his reception in the first days of August;

therefore her apology and extreme humiliation for the non-
performance of impossibilities, —
especially in asking pardon
for which the house-painter and his painting-pots
smells for
were alone accountable, —
seem somewhat slavish. The rest
of her letter is couched in the same prostration of spirit:
/
* DalrvTTiT>lo'B AnnpindiT. nnrt ii. t>. 160. >
r^
286 MARY II.
" The outside of the house [at Kensington] is thefiddlinff work, which
takes
up more time than one can imagine and while the schafolds are up, the win-
j
dows must be boarded up. But aa soon as that is done, your owr apartments
may be furnished and though mine cannot possibly be ready yet awhile I have
;
found out a way, if you please, which is, that I may make use of lord Portland's
and he ly in some other rooms we [i. e., she and the king] may (^ in your
;
chamber, and I go throw the councill-room down, or els dress me there. And
aa I suppose your business will bring you often to town, bo I must take such
time to see company here ; and that part of the family which can't come there
most stay here, for 'tis no matter what inconveniencyj any els suffers for your
dear sake. I think this way the only one yourself will have, will be my lying in
your chamber, which you know I can make as easy to you as may be. Our beinir
there [at Kensington] will certainly forward the work. I hope this letter will
not come to your hands, but that you will be on your way hither before this.
My greatest tear is for your closets here; but if you consider how much sooner
you come back than any one durst have hoped, you will forgive me, and I can't
but be extreme glad to be so deceived. God in his mercy send us a happy meet-
ing, and a quick one, for which I am more impatient tlian I can possibly
express."
Although extremely interesting as a transcript of queen

Mary's private feelings, and affording an amusing view of
her domestic arrangements and expedients, the foregoing
narrative presents us with the most faulty specimen of her
orthography and phraseology which has heen as yet disco-
vered. Those of our readers who are familiar with the lite-
rature of the seventeenth century, will consider Mary's
letters in general as wonderful productions, not only on
account of the good sense and graphic power of expressing
what she has to say, whether in dialogue or narrative, but as
presenting occasionally favourable specimens of the familiar
English of her era. It may be observed, that her majesty

was in advance of Steele and Addison, and of the drama-
tists of her day, who wrote you was, instead of yov ;.vere.
She generally uses her subjunctives correctly, and her sen-

tences, however hurriedly written, have a logical connexion
in their divisions.
Throughout this mass of voluminous correspondence, not
a word occurs regarding the princess Anne, nor does the
queen ever allude to her nephew and heir-presumptive, the
infant duke of Gloucester, then twelve months old. The
hatred that was brooding in the minds of queen Mary and
her sister had not yet burst into open flame: they still
observed the decencies of dislike, had ceremonious meetings
m
MARY II. 287
and formal leave-takings, when courtly etiquette required

them. The princess having discovered that Craven-house
was too small for her son^s nursery, the queen condescended
to accompany her to look at Campden-house,' situated (as
the remains of it are at present) behind Kensington-palace.
The princess considered that its vicinity would be conve-

nient for the queen to see her godson and nephew at plea-
sure, when her majesty took up her abode at the new-built
palace; she therefore hired Campden-house for her nursery,
at an enormous rental, of Mr. Bertie, the guardian of young
Noel, to whom the house belonged. Here the infant duke

of Gloucester was established,^ and his improved health
manifested the salubrity of the site the queen and his
mother had chosen.
The queen continued to devote a large portion of her
time to epistolary communication with her absent husband.
His replies have been vainly sought, yet, from the remaining
specimens of his letters, their absence is perhaps no great
historical loss, as it is doubtful whether his majesty ever
wrote a narrative letter in his life. His enormous hand-

writing spreads far and wide over his paper, as if to prevent
the introduction of much matter; and this habit was ac-
quired as an hand, in his boyish letters to his
adult, for his
uncle Charles, in the State-Paper office, is not quite so large
as children's writing in general. Few of his notes consist
of more than two or three prettily turned French sentences,
from which it is scarcely possible to extract any individual
information ; it may be observed that her
in consequence,
majesty was often in great perplexity to know his wishes and
intentions. The following letter from the king, written
throughout by his own hand, to the earl of Devonshire,
then one of the council of nine, belongs to this period. The
original is in French: it contains more matter than any
other extant from William's pen, excepting the wrathful
The front built by sir Baptist Hicks, in 1612, was demolished in the com-
'
mencement of the present century. The old gateway, surmounted by the sup-
porters of the Noel family, has been demolished since 1848.
' Memoirs of the young Duke of Gloucester, by Lewis Jenkins.

— "
288 MARY II.
one relating to Dr. Covell's transgressions.' The present

document, hitherto inedited, is in answer to " a compliment
on the king's wound, previously sent to Ireland by the lord
steward of the household, the earl of Devonshire :
"WllUAM III. TO THE EaEL OP DeVONSHIEE.'

" At the Camp of Welles, this July 17.
" I am very much obliged by the part that you take in what concerns my per«
on, and the fidvantage* that I have gained over my enemies/ The misfortune
that has befallen my fleet' has sensibly touched me, but I hope that it will soon
be in a state to put to sea. It will be necessary to chastise severely those who
have not done their duty.*
" If it had been possible, without abandoning all here, I should have set out as
con us yesterday morning, when I received your despatches ; but, without losing
all the advantages I have gained, I cannot leave the army for five or six days.
Of this I have written to the queen and to the lords of the committee, to whom
1 refer you, and hope very soon to have the satisfaction of seeing you, and of
assuring you of my constant friendship and esteem, on which you may entirely
"^y* " William, R."
The absence of nomenclature a curious feature in this

is
epistle of the royal diplomatist. one is named in ii but No

the queen, although he refers to several persons; no place
is mentioned, yet he alludes to the battle of the Boyne, the
defeat at La Hogue, and the court-martial pending at Sheer-

ness on lord Torrington.
From the contents of the royal missive from the seat of
war, lord Devonshire concluded that queen Mary would be

forced to postpone a grand ball for which the palace was in
preparation. Her majesty meant, by this festival, to cele-

brate the king's victory of the Boyne, and his return to
England. The by queen Mary in exul-

idea of a ball given
tation over her father's losses at "the fatal Boyne-water,"
again exasperated that powerftd satirist under whose scourge
she had previously writhed. The following historical poem
was disseminated in the usual manner, being transcribed
' Previously quoted.
• Holograph letter from William III. to the first duke of Devonshire, (then
steward of the household.

earl,) lord From the family papers of his grace the
duke of Devonshire.
» Battle of the Boyne.
* King James II. and the French. » Loss of the battle off Beachy Head.
* Court-martial on lord Torrington.
— — ; ! ;
/^,.
MARY II. 289
in numerous manuscripts, and scattered in the Mall (Pall-

mall) and the Birdcage-walk :
" The youthful Tullia on her pillow ky

At dead of night, afber a midnight bull.
In her own father's palace of Whitehall ;
When straight the scene upon a sudden turns.
Her blood grows chill, the taper dimly burns
A trembling seizes all her limbs with awe.
As her dead mother' did the curtain draw.
And thus begin :
' Can quiet slumber ever close thine eyes ?
Or is thy conscience sunk too low to rise ?

From this same place was not thy aged sire
Compelled by midnight ruffians to retire ?
Had he been muixlered, there'd been mercy shown
'Tis less to kill a king than to dethrone.
Where are the crimes of which he was accused ?
How is the nation guUed, and he abused !'
Niglit's watchfiil sentinel here blew Ids horn,
'
I must be gone !' her mother said ; ' Farewell
Wliat you have seen and heard, your sister* tell.*
Thus having spoke, the vision disappears.
Leaving the trembling Mary drowned in tears."'
For purposes either of her royal pleasure or policy, the

queen had been indefatigable in giving balls at Whitehall
during the king's absence. The earl of Devonshire, her
high-steward, notwithstanding his known taste for these
diversions, Other troubles annoyed the
required a respite.
lord steward, —
^the ladies of the queen's court danced awk-
wardly, and there were more ladies than gentlemen. Some

of the yoimg nobles were fighting in Ireland against the
queen's father, some were fighting for him; others were

exiled for maintaining his cause, and not a few of the best
beaux were incarcerated by the queen's warrants in the

i
lit
Tower. However, her majesty had expressed her particular
wish that the daughter-in-law of the earl of Devonshire
might be present at her grand celebration-ball. The royal

pleasure was thus notified to that lady by her mother-in-law,
lady Devonshire :'^ —
' Anne Hyde. Anno of Denmark.
' Princess
' Contemporary MSS. lady Strange, date 1690 j evidently
in possession of
written before the burning of Whitehall, or the queen's rupture with the
princess Amie.
The hand is very large and masculine, but as the letter is signed E. Devon-
*
shire, and her

lord is mentioned, it must be written by the countess.
VOL. VII. U
'
290 MARY IT.
"THR Countess of Devonshihe to Lady Cavendish,' (DAroiiiER

TO Racuel Lady Uubsell).
(Siitunky.)
"I am very glad to hear by Mr, Woolinan, not only of your good lumlth, hut
that I shall see you sooner than you seemed to intend I should. You may gtiU
be in time, as the queen desires, for the ball, for nobody can tell when it will be,
the king's coming not being so soon as was expected. I hope there will be a
respite, too, in the dancings at Whitehall, till it be for the great ball ; yet there
ia more ladies than men, and worse dancers than them they have found cim
hardly be met with. Mrs. Moone danced rather worse than better than she did
last year. My lord is come ft'om Newmarket. My head aches, so I leave
Betty,' dear daughter, to end my letter with what news she knows."
\^Betit/'s concluôn.']
" I hope you will pardon my not answering yours at this present, but you
may believe that I am very full of business when I fail it. We have danced
very often at Whitehall, where you are wanting extremely, there being not above
one or two tolerable dancers ; and as for myself, I am worse at it than last year.
We are just going to supper. I believe this would hardly pass with you for a
letter if I should say more, so I will only desire you to give my humble service
to my lady Ross. I am very sorry to hear by Mr. Belman that she does not
come with you to town."
Endorsed —" To the Lady Hartington,
at Wobum Abbey, in Bedforc^shire."
The husband of " lady Ross " here mentioned, is the same
lord Ross who, it will be remembered, was then the object
of queen Mary's particular displeasure. Her majesty, in
a letter quoted a few pages back, we have seen express

her lively displeasure that the powerful families of Devon-
shire and Bolton had successfully prevented her from incar-
cerating lord Ross in the Tower, on her mere privy-council
warrant.
The queen's hopes of the return of her husband, which
had been lively at the beginning of July, were now deferred
from week to week. Success had turned in Ireland against
the Protestant party. The defence of Limerick by the
Jacobite general, Sarsfield, rivalled in desperation that of
Londonderry, in the preceding year, by the Calvinist minis-

ter. Walker. An equal number of William's highly-dis-
ciplined soldiers fell in the siege, as king James had lost
of the half-armed Irish militia at the passage of the Boyne.
The Protestants of Ireland had been discouraged by the
speech that broke from the ungrateful lips of the Orange

• Family Papers of his grace the duke of Devonshire.
« Probably lady Elizabeth Cavendish, youngest daughter to the earl and

-
counteiu of Devonshire. ,|^

— —
MAUY ir. 291
king. When
one of them told him, in a tone of lamenta-
tion,
" that parson
Walker was among the slain in the m^lee
at the Boyne,"
—
" Why did the fool go there ? " was the
best tribute king William gave to the memory of the
valiant partisan to whom he owed Ireland. The reverend
gentleman had given his aid at the Boyne, in the expecta-
tion of gaining further renown in regular warfare, and
the regimental king scorned all glory that had not been
at drill. William remained unwillingly in Ireland, witness-
ing the waste of his army in the fatal trenches of Limerick.
His passage home was by no means an easy matter, for
the victorious French fleets not only rode triumphantly
in the English Channel, but in that of St. George, render-
ing dangerous the communication between England and
heland.
The queen's letters continued to describe the difficulties
which beset her at the helm of government. Her next
epistle details the feuds and factions regarding the com-
mand of the fleet :
"Queen Mabt to Kino Wixiiam,'

« WhitehaU, Aug. 9, N.s. (July 30, o.s.) 1690.
"
You will not wonder that I did not write last night, wlien you know that at
noon I received yours by Mr. Butler, whose face I shall love to see ever here-
after, since he has come twice with such good news. That he brought yesterday
was so welcome to me, that I won't go about expressing it, since 'tis impossible.
But (for my misfortime) I have now another reason to be glad of your coming,
and a very strong one, (if compared to any thing but the kindness I have for
your dear self,) and that is the divisions, whicli, to my thinking, increase here
daily, or at least appear more and more to me. The business of the commission
is agam put off by Mr. RusseU."
Points of precedence had to be settled between the admirals

Killigrew and sir John Ashby, before sir B. Haddick could
accept the promotion the queen designed him. Her majesty,
in discussing the affair with Russell, again mentioned her
displeasure against sir Thomas Lee :
went to excuse him, [Lee,]" she continues. " I said, ' that I must
"Russell
OTO to him, that were I in your place, I would not have borne his [sir Thomas
Lee's] answer ; but when he had in a manner refused to sign the commission, I
should have put it into such hands as would have done it.' Mr. Russell said,
'He hoped I would not think of doing it now.' I told him, ' No, he might be
sure, in your absence, I would not think of any thing of that nature, especially
,
• Dalrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 151.
u 2
293 MARY II.
not without your orders for it.' At my coming from council I wius told of Mr.
Butlur's boin^ come' Ho soon brought mo your lottorH, imd though I wiw in
hourly expectation, yet being sure yo»i were coming did reully tn,tiHiM)rt mo ho
that I have hardly recovered it yet, and there's such a joy everywhere, tlmt 'tin
not to bo cxprcst.
" I wont last night to Kensington, and will go again by and by, Tlicy
promise mo all shall Iw ready by Tuesday next, and this is Wednesday. Tlmt in
the night, [the ensuing Tuesday,] by Mr. Butler's reckoning, that with ii fair
wind you may bo here," though I thiid{, by your dear letter, it is ])()8sil)le yoit
may come a day sooner. At most, if you lye here [i. e, at WhiteluiU two ]
nights, the third you may certainly, if it please G(xl,

l)e at Kensington. I will
do my endeavour that it may be sooner ; but one night, I reckon, you will l)c
content to lie here. I writ you word in my last, how

thought you might shift
I
at Kensington without my chaml)er ; btit I have thought since to set up a bod

(which is already ordered) in the council-chamber, and that I can dress me in
lord Porthmd's, and use his closet M. Neinburg is gone to get other nxims for
:
liim. Thus I think we may shift for a fortnight, in which tune I hoix; my own
[chamlwr] will be ready they promise it sooner,
:
" This letter will, I hope, meet you at Chester. It shall stay for you there,
so that if there bo any thing else you would have done, do but lot nie know it
by one word, and you shall find it so, if it be in my power. I have one tliinj; to
beg ; which is, that if it bo possible I may como and meet you on the roatl,
either where you desire or anywhere else, for I do so long to see you, that / am
sure, had you as much mind to see your poor loife again, you would propone
it. But do as you please ; I will say no more, but that I love you so much it
cannot increase, else I am sure it would."
There is a little tender reproach implied in the concluding

sentence. Perhaps Mary thought of Elizabeth Villiers, und
wished to prevent her from holding a first conference with
her husband ; however, neither the queen nor her rival were
to meet William so soon as was expected. His next despatch
declared that his return was delayed, on which intelligence
her majesty thus expresses herself, in a letter' dated
" Whitehall, Aug. ,=j, 1G90.
" Unless I coidd express the joy I had at the thoughts of your coming, it will
be vain to undertake telling you of the disapjwintment 'tis to me you do not come
so soon. I Iwgin to bo in great pain lest you should be in the storm rt-Tlrarsdiiy
night, which 1 am told was great, thougli its being a t'other side of the hoiuso,
hindered my hearing it, but was soon delivered by your letter of the 29th from
Ch.* I confess I deserve such a stop [/. e. the delay of the king's return] to my
joy, since, may be, it was too great, and I not thankful enough to God, and we
aro here apt to be too vain upon so quick a success. But I have mortiflcatlon
This was the messenger with king William's letters.

'
The king delayed his return till a month afterwards.

'
* Dalrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 153.
* Chapelford, where William's head-quarters were at that instant, is probably
the place indicated by this contraction. The queen usually contracts proix?r
names; thus lord Nottingham is always lord Nott; Pembnoke, lord Pm;
Marlborough, Marl; Feversham, Fev; lord chamberlain, chain, &c.
MARY II. 293
cnoiif;h to think that your dcnr person may bo again exposed at the passagG of
till'
Shiinnon, lut it was iit that of tlie Hoyno ; tliis is wliat gfjcs to my heart.
Rut yet 1 see the reasons for it so gcxxX, tliat I will not murmur, for certainly
the (flory would Im) j^reater to terminate the war this sunmicr, and the jn'oplo
hiTC lire mueli bettor pleased tlian if they must fiu-nish next year for the samo
tiling again, UjKin these considerations I ought to Ixj satisfied, and I will
emleuvnur, as much as may Ixj, to submit to the will of God and your judgment
M you must forgice a poor wife, who loves you so dearly, if I can't do it
with drii eyes. Since it has pleased (lod so wonderftdly to preserve you all your
life,niul so minu'uloiisly now, I need not doubt but ho will still preserve you.
Yot let me beg of you not to exjiost! yourself unnecessarily ; that will be too
raucii tempting that I'rovidence, which I hoiie will still watch over you.
" Mr. liussell is gone down to the fleet last Tlmrsday, to hasten, as much as
may be, all things there, and will lie back a- Monday, when there is a great
coimt'il appointed. I don't doubt but this commission will find many olwtacles,
and this [naming Killigrew] among such as don't like him will be cidled in
i|iicsti()n, as well as the other two, [i. e. Ashby and Haddick,] and I shall hear
apiin 'tis a thing agreed among two or three.

" I will not write now, no more than I vsed to do what others can ;* and,
inilml, I am fit for nothing this day. My heart is so opprest, I don't know
what to do. I have been at Kensington for some hours' quiet, to-morrow being
the first Sunday of the month, and have made use of lord Portland's closet as I
told you in my last I would. The house [Kensington-palace] would have been
ready by Tuesday night, and I hope will be in better order now, —
at least,
It slmll not be my fault if it is not. I shall 1x3 very impatient to hear agam from
you, till when, I shall be in perpetual pain and trouble, which I think you can't
wonder at, knowing that you are dearer to mo than my life."
The cabals in the two councils, relative to the command

of and disgraced fleet of England, continued to
the beaten
harass the queen. The fine navy her father had formed for
his destroyers was at the command of Mary, at least, all —
that remained of it from the two disastrous defeats that
had followed her accession. But the harpies of corrup-

tion had rushed in; the vigilant eye, which watched over
the proper appointment of stores and necessaries, was dis-
tant. The elective sovereigns durst not complain of the pe-

culations, which had become systematic ; the English fleet
was degraded, not for want of brave hearts and hands, and
line but because all the civilians concerned in finding
ships,
stores, ammunition, provision, and pay, pilfered daringly.
The consequence was, that none of James's former sea-
captains could be induced to take a command which must,
' So writtenby the queen. In her hurry and trouble of mind, she has failed
to expressher meaning clearly, which is, " I will not now writ/C to you any
thing which can be written by others, for, indeed, I am fit for nothing to-day,"
4c, &c.
—
291 MARY II.
perforce, end in disgrace, when the British navy came in

^•olliîon with the well-appointed ships which Louis XIV.
hud )H'('n raising for the last twenty years.
,^f i-
Quceu Mary was fully justified by her husband in the
displeasure she had expresst^d at tii>; insolence of sir Tiiomas
Lee She expresses her satisfaction at finding that the kin"
view^ the afi'ront in the same light as herself, in the foU
lowing manner :
"QuEKN Maby to Kino William.

" Wliitehall, v.l'?. 16')i\
" Last night I received yours of the 3rd of July, and w'li (f.-eut wi/ j'» .lOIl
t^ t
that it WHS plain; you api)roving of iny anger is a great (soar to nw, and I linpe
may luaku things go on the hotter, if it Ihj iKwoihle thoL^'h ,1 pains are
taken to hinder the jwrsons named from sorvuiv at in',' r from ugneiiig, but I
hope to little purpose."
In order to deprive sir Richard ITaddiek of the royal favour,

a Dutchman of the queen's household was employed to tell
her Richard railed furiously at every thing Dutch.

sir The
queen had him called to account for it and afterwards ; wrote
to the king, that she considered he had cleared himself.
She mentioned, that lord Torrington had very earnestly

demanded his trial, but doubted whether his acquittal would
no^ ^ eatly incense the Dutch at that time.'* A scheme she
alludes to for the delay of his trial, comes the nearest to
unrighteous diplomacy of any portion of these letters; for
if the Englishman deserved his acquittal, he had a right
to it, whether the Dutch approved of it or not.

" I should not write you this thought of mine, if I did not find several [of the
council] of my mind, which makes me apt to Ijelieve I am
not quite in the
wrong, —but that you know better ; and you may Iwlieve I shall do as much as
lies in my jjower to follow your directions in that, and all thmgs whatever, and
• The four were Uussell, iruldi*-!:, Killigrew, and Ashbyj all excepting Had-
dick,were extremely unwillinji t,> \ ko The command the queen niVered thein, and
thus to risk the fate of Ion' I' i

•
i The hibt : result of all the queen's
anxious delil)eration8 was, m, ,on was sent to the Tower on the 9th of
August, and Haddick, Killigrew, and Ashby appointed joint admirals of the
fleet. Russell positively refused serving with Haddick, having an intrigue on
foot to advance Marlborough's brother, captain Churchill, over the heads of thi
veterans, as will be shown in the queen's succeetling letters.
' The Dutch navy was most severely handled by the French. The Dutch ac-
cused Torrington of remaining passive, and seeing with pleasure the French
contest the day with them ; but the bad state of the Enghsh fleet is most
evident by Carmarthen's letter to king William, already quoted.
MAIIY ir. 205
am never ho easy us vhen I huvo tlwtn, Judô, tludi, what a joy it wan for ine
til have
your Hpiinjluiiioii of my
boliavionr ; the kind way you expreiw if in, in
the only eoinfort I i m {k)!*!!.!;, liiivi' in your nlwiiw. Wliat other iK«>jili say, 1
ever suspect; hut v t?" uom tell me ! have done well, 1 could Ik- iilnioBt vain
upon it."
It wns this i tiinate union of purpose and of interest be-

tween these two sovereigns, and tlie entire confidence in
each other, tliat prod iced their great worldly prosperity.
The same result is usually tli(^ case where unanimity pre-
vails between a married pair, in whatever rank of life their
lot may be cast, for never was a prophecy, ot proverb, more
divinely true, than that pronounced by the Saviour " A :
house divided against itself cannot stand."

" I events, " I have all the re*-
mn sure," continues the queen's narrative of
ion in Ood, who has sustained me in things so difficult t«
the world to ])rai80
Wi and blood, and has given nie more courage than I could have hoped for. I
am sure 'tis so great a mercy, I can never forget it. We have received many ;
Ood send us grace to value them as we ought But .lothing touches people's
!
hearts here enough to make them agree ; that would '>«• too much happiness.
Lord Nottingham w''i give you an account of all thin, s, and of some letters,
which by great luck are fallen into our hands. I have b. (>n at Kensington this
evening, and made it now so late, that I am very sleepy, ,;ud so can't say much
more. I shall only assure you, that 1 shall take all the pal s I can. Kensington
is ready. Hatl you come this night, as I did flatter \r\\ elf you would have
done, you could have lain there, that is to say, in the ci incil-chanit or ; and
there I fear you nmst lie when you do come, which Ood grn 'it may be soon. 1
must needs tell you on the subject, that when it was first kno vn you intended to
come back, 'twas then said, • What leave Ireland unconqucred,
! the work un- —
finished ?' Now, upon your not coming, 'tis wondered whose 'oimcil this is, and
why leave us thus to ourselves in our danger ? Thus peopb are never satis-
fial. But I must not begin upon the subject, which would 'ake up volumes,
and, as much as I was prepared, surprises me to a degree that is beyond expres-
I have so many several [dift'ereut] things to say to you, if I live to see

sion.
you, that I fear you will never have patience to hear half; it you will not 1
m
wonder if I am surprised at things which, though you are used t are quite new ,
tome.
am very impatient to hear if you are over the Shannoi. that passage
" I :
frightsme. You must excuse me telling my fears I love you ti much to hide :
them, and that makes all dangers seem greater, it may be, tha they are. I
:§) t
pray God, in his mercy, keep you, and send us a happy meeting lere on earth
': :i:l
k'fore we meet in heaven.

first, If I could take more pains t( ileserve your
'
kindness, that which you write would make me do it ; but that iias been ever
80 much my desire, that I can't do more for you, nor love you bettrT."
Similar expressions of tenderness pervade her letter, dated

August -y-, intermixed with state information and council
disputes relative to calling a new parliament, an 1 of the
hanlnipt state of the treasury, of which "sad stories are
;
296 MARY II.
told," the queen says, "by Mr. Hampden,' whieli I fear

will prove true."
"Queen Mary to Kino William.
" Wliitchall, Aug. 'jS,
1690.
" have had no letter from you since that of the Slst, from Cliapelforrt wlmt
T :
I suffer by it you cannot imagine. I don't say this by way of complain r, for I
really believeyou write as often as 'tis convenient or necessary ; but yi;t I cannot
help iHjing extremely desirous of hearing again from you. This passage of the
river Shaimon runs much in my mind, and gives mo no quiet, night nor day. I
have a million of fears, which are caused by what you can't be angry at, and if I
were less sensible I should hate myself, though I wish I were not so fear full
—
and yet one can hardly go without t'other, but 'tis not reasonable I should tor-
ment you with any of this.
" Lord steward [Devonshire] desires me to let you know he has had a letter
from monsieur et ma<lame de Orammon, alxnit her brother, Mr. Hain[ilton],
'fliey earnestly desire he may be exchanged for lord Mountjoy."
The celebrated family group thus named by queen Mary,

were all individuals intimately known to her in her youth.
Madame de Grammon was the beautiful Miss Hamilton,
who married the count de Grammont. He residec some
time at the court of Charles II., which (if possible) he
made worse than he found it. Mr. Hamilton,^ mentioned
by the queen, was the brother of the lady; he is better
known as the witty count Anthony Hamilton, the author
whose pen embodied the scandalous reminiscences of his
brother-in-law, under the title of Memoires de Grammont.
Count Anthony Hamilton was now a prisoner from the battle
of the Boyne. He had greatly incensed king William, by
undertaking to induce lord-lieutenant Tyrconnel to yield
up Ireland to him; and when he had obtained all the con-
fidence with which the whigs could trust him, he posted over
to Ireland, and did all in his power, by pen, interest, or
1 This gentleman was |as much concerned in the revolution of 1G88, as liis
more had been in that of 1640, who declared death to k

colebratod ancestor
peculiarly welcome wlien it came on the battle-field at Chalgrove ; but it came
not speedily enough to his descendant, whose own desperate hand comniittea
suicide. His name, as a bribed tool of France, at the time of the agitation of
'
the iiopish lilot,' is disgustingly apparent on Barillon's black list of payments
—
made. See Dalrymple's copy of the documents, Appendix, part i. p. 31G. The
whole of Barillon's despatches shoidd be read ; likewise p. 286. The originals
are under the care of M. Dumont, a learned contemimrary, at Les Affaires
Etrangeres, at Paris.
* The queen has throughout written his name, according to her usual abbre-
viations. Ham: but bis description m

the countess do Oraunnout's hrothtf,
dearly identifies him.
MARY II. 297
sword, in the cause of his master, king James. A man of

delicate honour could not, would
have accepted the not,
confidence of William, or acted thus ; but a few falsehoods
more or less broke no squares with the author of the scan-
dalous chronicle aforesaid. Yet it is strange to find count
Anthony Hamilton risking at once his life and his honour in
the service of James II., whom he had libelled so viciously,
and .after his ruin too !
When Hamilton was brought into the presence of Wil-

liam, a prisonerBoyne, he was questioned as to
at the
the forces still maintaining the contest. His answer was
doubted, wheri he maintained it by the asseveration, " On
my honour !" At this, William turned contemptuously
away, muttering, " Honour on your honour !" History
!
leaves the literary soldier in this very bad predicament.

No one has ever noticed that queen Mary interested her-
self so deeply for him, and she continued her letter, excus-
ing herself, however, for interfering in the behalf of a man
so thoroughly on her husband's black list, by her sympathy

n, the author
for the sufferings of lord Mountjoy's family. Lord Mount-
joy was then a prisoner in the Bastille, and Louis XIV.
offered to exchange him for Hamilton.'
" I told lord Devonsliire that I
knew nothing of Ham[ilton]'s faults, which I
see very apprehensive the parliament will take into consideration, if he
he is
[Hamilton] he not out of their power. But that ujwn his [lord Devonshire's]
earnest desire I would let you know it, I would have had him [Devonshire] write
it you himself; but he begs me to do it.
" As for lord Mountjoy, I hope you will consider if any thing can bo done for
liim. I can never forget that I promised his son's wife to speak to you, and she
really died of grief, which makes me pity her case. Hie family is in a miserable
way, and I am daily solicited by his eldest daughter 'tout him. If you would
t
let lord Portland give me some answer to this, I should be very glad, for I cim't
wonder at people's desiring an answer, though I am tonnented myself."
The queen's humane appeal Mountjoy 's

in behalf of lord
unfortunate children was inasmuch as there ap-
successful,
't
pears in king William's Secret- service book a notation of a
pittance allowed to them, small indeed in comparison with
'Mountjoy, who was considered the head of the Protestants in Ireland, went
to France to demonstrate to James II. how impossible it was for Ireland to
resist William and Mary. He had lx;en seized and sent to the Bastille by Louis
XIV., as a punishment for undertaking this mission ; therefore queen Mary had
every right to interest herself in his behalf.
f:
—
298 MARY II.
that weekly paid to the perjurer Titus Gates.' There is little

doubt but that the united interest of the queen and the earl
of Devonshire, to say nothing of that of the fair Grammont
obtained the release of Hamilton, for he soon after re-ap-
peared at the court of St. Germains. " I have staid," con-
tinues the queen, " till I am ready to go to bed, and can
now put off the sealing of my letter no longer. I pray God
to give me patience and submission. I want the first ex-
ceedingly; but I hope all is well, especially your 'dear self,
who I love much better than life."

The queen was about the same time deeply occupied in
receiving the confessions of the lords Annandale, Breadal-

bane, and Ross. These men were not originally the friends
of her father, but his enemies, who, with sir James Mont-
gomery, had headed the deputation sen^ offer her and her
husband the crown of Scotland, and to eceive their oaths.
They deemed they had not been rewarded commensurately
with their merits, and therefore joined the widely ramified
plot against the government, which the death of the great
Dundee had disorganized in the preceding year. According
to what might be expected from the treachery of their cha-
racters, there was a race between these persons as to who
should first betray the devoted Jacobites who had unfortu-
nately trusted them. The titled informers made a bargain,
that they were not to be brought in personal evidence against
their victims. Breadalbane, incognito, waylaid the king at
Chester, to tell his tale.'* Annandale came in disguise to
the queen for the same purpose, and, it is said, had an in-
terview with her on the evening of her birthday.^ Ross

(regarding whose imprisonment the queen has described a
contest between herself and the privy council) now offered
* The same summer, there is an entry to the following effect :
" Lady Mountjoy's children upon our allowance of 3^.

per week to them 12 0"
Extract from king William's Secret-service accounts, Ireland, with which we
have been favoured by sir Denys Norreys, bart.
* DiUryinple's Memoirs.
•''
Dalrymple's Memoirs. It sould not have been this year, as her birthdiiy,
> :i on l,.,,l „„,... -,.«,1 K,>f„«« 4-l,« u;^^.
;:
MARY II. 299
to confess to her all he knew ; but, as he refiised to reiterate

his confessions as a witness against those he had accused,
the queen finally committed him to the Tower.
"Queen Mary to King William.
" Whitehall, Aug. »|, 1690.
You cannot imagine the miserahle condition I was in last niglit.
" I think if
your letter had not come as it did, I should have fallen sick with fear for your
dear person; but all that trouble made your news of the French having left
Ummerick the more welcome, 1 will not say your letters, for those are ever so.
1 am sure this news affords new reason of praising God, since I hope it will pre-
vent any more fighting. You speak of your coming back now in a way which
makes me hope, not only that it will be quickly, but that you will come willingly,
and that is a double juy to me ; for before, I confess, I was afraid to have seen
you dissatisfied when you were here, and that would have been very unpleasant
but now, I hope in God to see you soon, and see you as well pleased as this place
will suflfe" you to be, for I fancy you will find people really worse and worse."
\l
"Jifrd steward," [the earl of Devonshire,] continues
Mary, falling into her usual style of narrative,
"was with me with whom I had a long conversation, which will
this afternoon,
be knowing when you come ; but he has made me promise to
worth your while
write you word now some part of it, which is, that he begs you ' to consider if
you will not have a new parliament, for this,' he is sure, ' will do no good
this,' he says, ' is his opinion.' I see it is a thing they are mightily set upon.
Lord president, methinks, has very good arguments to try this [parliament]
first but of all this you will judge best when you come.
; 1 can't imagine how
I i
it comes to pass that you have not received my letter of the 26th July ; I am
sure I writ,' and that you will have had it by tliis time, or else there must be
some carelessness in it, which must be lookt after.

" I have had this evening lord Annandale, who is to tell all, and then I am to
procure a pardon from you ; but I think I shall not be so easily deceived by nim,
as I fear lord Melville has been by sir James Montgomery. But these are things
to talk of when you come back, which I pray God may be very soon. 'Tis the
greatest joy in the world to hear you are so well. I pray God continue it. I
hope this will meet you upon your way back ; so it goes by express, that it may
not miss you. I can't express my impatience to see you; there is' nothing
greater than that which it proceeds from, which will not end but with my
life."
The arrival of two Dutchmen in the mean time, caused her

majesty to add, as postscript," I have seen Mr. Hop and
Mr. Olderson, but have to say no more. You will have an
account of the business of the admiralty from lord Nott."
Mr. Hop was ambassador from the Hogan Mogans, the —
States-General. The utmost jealousy was excited among
' She did write, and the reader, on looking back, will see it isa hurried, ill-
spelled letter, on which some comment has been made. Mary reckons here by
fue new style.
4.!.'*
i'..
ii.i':
300 MARY IT.
the other diplomatists, because he had been received witli a

greater number of bows than any of them. Queen Mary
likewise sent her best coach and horses, with their gayest
trappings, attended by forty running footmen and pages, to
fetch Mr. Hop to Whitehall when he brought his credeu-
tials.*
" Queen Maey to Kino William.
" Wliitehall, Aug. 21, 1090.
" Tliough I have nothing to say to you worth writing, yet I cannot lot any
express go without doing it, and Mr. Hop, it seems, believes this business of the
Swedish ship too considerable to stay till to-morrow. The commissioners of the
admiralty have resolved to come to me to-morrow, with some names for flaj,'3.
Mr. Russell reconnnends Churchill and Ellmor, because, he says, nothing has
btien done for them, though they were both tnisted when you came over, and
have ever been very tiiie to y(mr interest ; but I think, if it be possible, to let
them alone till you come, tliough Mr. Russell seems to think it cannot be
delayed. I shall hear (if it must be so) what the other commissioners think,
and do as well as I can."
Had the queen possessed the smallest germ of political
justice, she would have recoiled fi'om appointing captain

Churchill to a place of trust. He had, in the succeeding
year, been house of commons for his
expelled from the
peculations, by receiving convoy-money, and had at the
same time been deprived of the naval command he abused.
Taking convoy-money of merchant ships had been sternly
forbidden by the sea-king, James II.; but among the evils of
William and Mary's government was a most injurious one,
that convoys were seldom provided, and when they were,
the captains of the ships of war impoverished the merchant
by the extortion of convoy-money.'^ Churchill was brother
to lord Marlborough, and worthy of the brotherhood: his
ship had been the first to desert king James. Queen Mary
seems to have considered that Churchill's service to her
party, by thus leading the race of treachery, covered a mul-
titude of sins. At first, king William stood aghast at the
• Lamberty.
"^
A petition to the house of the London merchants, presented
commons from
Nov. lith, 1689, proves that, in the first year of the Revolution, one hundred
merchant ships, worth 600,000^., were lost for want of convoys, or by the cor-
ruption of the navid captains. Captain Churchill's conduct appeared in such a
light, that he was expelled the house four days after. —
Sec Joui-nsds of tlie
House of Commons. 1C89.
MARY II. 301
rapacity with which such men as the Churchills, and other

patriots of thesame stamp, flew on the quarry of the public
money, which had been so carefully guarded by the frugality
of king James it seemed as if the Revolution had been
:
only effected for liberty of theft. At that very moment

queen Mary had suspended the habeas corpus law; the
Tower and other prisons were full of captives, seized on her
mere signature ; the summer circuits of the itinerary justices
were delayed at her dictum. English soldiers and seamen

were subjected to the horrors of the lash, and many millions
of debt, besides had been incurred since

enormous outlays,
her father's deposition. by the well-
All was submitted to
meaning people, supposing these portentous measures were
effected by the united wisdom of parliament.
The present system of military punishments can be traced

no farther back than the era of William and Mary. Two
Scotch regiments, commanded by lord Dumbarton at the
Revolution, refused to submit to William after James II. had
dismissed them, and unfurling their standards, commenced
a bold march to Scotland ; but, unfortunately for them-
selves, they encumbered their progress home with four can-
nons, because these instruments of destruction had originally
belonged to Edinburgh-castle. William III. caused the
regiments to be pursued, and to be surrounded. To make
vengeance legal on these soldiers, the mutiny bill was brought
into parliament by the ministers of William and Mary;*
the result was, that British soldiers were, whether serving
in these islands or abroad, subjected to the punishments
which prevailed among William's foreign mercenaries, —the
wickedest and England had ever seen,
cruellest troops that
as Ireland knew full well. When king William was armed
with the terrific power given by the mutiny bill, he broke
tlie loyal Scotch regiments, gave the officers leave to go
wheresoever they pleased, and distributed the unfortunate
common soldiers among his troops. The most resolute he
sent to Flanders, where, if they were not flogged to death,
it was no fault of the mutiny bill and the Dutch code which
• Dalrymple's History of the Revolution.
— —
302 MARY II.
had superseded that of St. George.' Stranger innovations

even than these took place in this free country. Amone
the Somers' Tracts in the British Museum there is a com-
plaint, that the government in 1690, not content with in-
stituting a sharp press of men for both army and navy,
actually forced women into the service of the camp and into
the navy, at the rate of ten for every ship of war, as nurses
sempstresses, and laundresses. The atrocities to which such
a system naturally gave rise need no comment, but lead at
least to the conclusion, that if the Dutch prince were a
liberator, it was not over every class of the British people
that his blessings were diffused.
Queen Mary, in her next letter, flattered her husband's
known tastes by depreciating Whitehall, the palace of her
ancestors :
" I have been thisday to Kensington, which looks really very well, at least
to a poor body like me, who have been so long condemned to this place, and see
nothing but wall and water. I have received a letter from lord Dursley, who I
suppose will write of the same thing to yourself, and therefore I shall not do it.
I am very impatient for another letter, hoping that will bring me the news of
your coming back ; 'tis impossible to believe how impatient I am for that, nor
how much I love you, which will not end but with my life."
The succeeding letter is wholly personal :
"Queen Makt to Kino William.

« Whitehall, Aug. 1690,
f|,
" I only write for fashion's sake, for I really have nothing in the world to
say; yet Iam resolved never to miss an opportunity of doing it while I live.
To-morrow I am to go to the great council, [privy-council,] where my lord mayor

and aldermen are to come to be thanked tor their two regiments, and released
of them. Wlien that is over, I go, if it please God, to Hampton-Court, which
I fear will not be much advanced.
" It has been such a storm of rain and wind this whole day, that I thankt
God with my whole heart that you could not be near the sea. 1 hope the ill
weather will spend itself now, that when you do come, you may have a quick
passage. I have seen Mr. Zulestein to-day, who is so tanned that he frights me."
> It is acknowledged by the government, in a MS, requisition to the council
of Scotland, that " these regiments having lost all their men by death aud
desertion in Flanders, more recruits must be sent." The Scotch tradition is,
that resisting these new laws, the soldiers were all tortured to death with the
lash. The extract, with other valuable matter, was obtained through the
courteous permission of W. Pitt Du'- .las, esq., from the royal Records of Scot-
land, Privy Co\nicil-books MS,, Edinburgh. The code of St. George is in in-
telligible knguage : it may
be seen, in the Foedera, that there was no flogging
in the days of the Plantagenets. Captain Marryat, in one of his brilliant naval
sketclscs, is the first person who lias ever traced this anti-national cruelty to the
Dutch king.
MARY 11. 303
Zulestein isthe same person whose marriage with Mary

Worth caused queen Mary so much trouble in her youth.
He was the beau of the Dutch court, and having made the
Irishcampaign with the king, had injured his fine com-
which is rather aflfectedly mentioned by the queen.
plexion,
He was inseparable from the king, unless despatched on

r, as nurses, some mission wherein his diplomatic cunning was indis-
pensable.
"Queen Mary to King William.
" Whitehall, Aug. ?|, 1690.
mce were a " This time I write with a better heart than the last, because it goes by an
express —
which must find you out, may be, the common post will not. I have
a paper to send which lord Nottingham is to copy, which is what lord
\ >
>n,
Annandale has made sir William Lochart [Lockhart] write, because he was not
willing itshould be seen in his own hand.
"I think I writ you word," continues her majesty's narrative of current
events, " or should have done, that he lord [Annandale] sent by his wife to sir
William that he would surrender himself, if he might be sure not to be made an

evidence of. Upon which, sir William drew up concUtions that he should tell all,
and then he should he made no evidence, and has my word to get your pardon.
I think I writ you this before j but to be sliort, he is come in, and I have spoke
twice with him.

Lord Annandale told me, that after the time the papers were burnt, (where-
"
with this ends,) sir James Montgomery proposed seniUng a second message by
the same, Simson ; but he [Annandale] rejected it as much as he durst, but was
afraid to tell him plainly he would not. So having a mind to get out of this,
he [Annandale] pretended business at his own house in the country ; but his
coldness made sir James Montgomery the warmer in it, and assure him that he
would spend his life and fortune in that interest," [meaning the interest of her
father].
The result of these private conferences with the queen

was, that Neal, or Nevill Payne, the tutor of the young earl
of Mar,' should be forced to take upon himself the infamy J
of legal informer regarding the secrets of this Jacobite con-
spiracy, from which detestable task Montgomery, Annan-
dale, Breadalbane, and the rest of the real betrayers had
bargained with the queen to be excused. The queen and
these double traitors, deeming Nevill Payne a plebeian " fel-
low of no reckoning," had not the most distant idea of the
high-spirited scorn with which he resisted both bribes and
torture, and showed to high-born informers how a man of
the people could keep his oathand his word. The dread-
ful scenes that ensued certainly belong to this portion of
» Dalr rrvyy
r "*i Ft^* lCuXj pQ p. l.\fl
'
'Â
304 MARY II.
(M
the queen's government, although they actually occurred
some days after king William's return to England. The
queen's letters are worded with guarded mystery, but as
the prime-minister of Scotland, lord Melville, was at her
court in England co-operating with her in guiding the whole
affair, and her personal conferences with the real informers
were frequent, it is utterly impossible to acquit her of pre-

knowledge of the atrocities that ensued.' In the paper
enclosed by the queen to the king, as the confession of lord
Annandale to the queen, written by the hand of sir William
Lockhart, according to the words of her letter above, Nevill
Payne is thrice mentioned as being present at the Jacobite
meeting at the Globe tavern, near Northumberland-house,
Strand: the Jacobites were likewise convened under the
Piazzas, Covent-garden. The paper is too long and heavy
to be inserted here;^ we must be content with giving our
readers the gist of the queen's part in the affair, as briefly as
the records of a conspiracy which fill a large quarto will
permit.
Mary again alluded to the mysterious man who encoun-
tered her spouse at Chester, whom she now distinctly names
as lord Breadalbane, saying,
" Lord Breadalbane came to see lord Annandale on his way to Chester, where
he went to meet you. He told liim that sir James Montgomery had ccrtiiiiily
sent another message, {i. e. to king James, her father,] but he [Hrwulalbaiie]
was not engaged in it, and be believed nobody was but lord Arran, though he
could not be positive that lord Ross was not likewise in. This he tokl me last
night, and desires 'to be askit more questions, not knowing but he miglit
remember more than he can yet think of.' Tims he seems to deal sincerely, but,
to say the truth, I think one does not know what to believe. But this I lun
certain off [of], that lord Ross did not keep bis word with mc, much less has sir
James Montgomery with lord Melville j for he has been in town ever since this
—
day was seven-night, and I have heard nothing of him, a plain breach of tlie
conditions.
" I \\o\Ki in God I shall soon hear from you 'tis a long while since I have,
:
bnt I am not so uneasie aa I was the last time, yet enough to make me wish
extremely for a letter. ,
• Cunningham's History of England.

* Printed in Dalrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 103, and is the same paiior, tlio
copy of whicli the queen mentions here as enclosed to the king ; for it is dated
the 14th of August, 1690, and endorsed " as given by sir William Lockhart to
her most excellent majesty the queen."
—
MARY II. 305
" D'Lone^ to send lord Portland, by this post, n copy of a letter from Mr.
is
'
Priestmnii, which you will see what need you have of
in Divine protection '
^
whieli liiw hitherto so watched over you, and wliich only make mo easy for i
jour dear sake. The same God who has hitherto so j)reserved you, will, I hope,
continue, and grant us a happy meetings here, and a blessed one hereafter.
Farewell 'tis too late for me to say any more, but that I am ever and intirelt/
!
TOUTS, and shall be so till death."

^
The queen, in the continuation of her narrative, aflfected
to regret her former days passed in Holland.

In a remarkable letter, dated Whitehall, August f f, 1690,
Mary says,
" Last night, when
was just a week since I had heard from you, I received
it
yours was a-bed. I was extremely glad to And by it you had

of the ^%, after I
passed the Shannon, but cannot be without fears, since the enemys liave still an
army together, which, though it has once more run away from you, may yet
grow desperate, for aught 1 know, and fight at last. These are the things I
ciinnot help fearing, and as lotig as I have these fears, you may believe I can't be
easy ;
yet I must look over them, if possible, or presently every body thinks all
lost."
Thus, countenance was viewed, by those who

the royal
habitually it, as a species of political barometer,
studied
from which might be learned news of the fate of the Irish
campaign or the Jacobite plots. Hence arose the imper-

turbable demeanour which Mary assumed, designedly, as a
diplomatic mask.
"Tliis is my penance, but all must be endured as long as it
no small part of
please God, and I have abundant cause to praise him, who has given you
still
this new advantage. I pray God to continue to bless you, and make us all as
thankful as we ought, but I must own that the thoughts of your staying longer
w very uneasy to me. God give me patience !
" I hopeyou will be so kind as to write oftener, while you are away. It is
really the only comfort this world affords, and if you knew what a joy it is to
receive such a kind one as your last, you would by that, better than any thing
else, be able to judge of mine for you j and the belief that what you say on that
subject is true, is able to make me bear any thing. When I writ last, 1 was
extream sleepy, and so full of my Scotch business, that I really forgot Mr.
Harbord."
The queen had sent him to apologize to the Dutch for the
defeat of their fleet off Beachy Head. Her message of con-
dolence was not very complimentary to the seamen of her
country, who, under the command of her father, had so
often beaten them. Indeed, English Mary, in this whole
affair, comported herself much like a Dutchwoman; for, in
' Meaning the queen's French secretary, D'Alonne. li i.
VOL. VII. X
——
ill '
J IB
30G MAllY II.
her condolence, she directly accused her countrymen "of

1% cowardice," and said, withal, " she had sent lord T()rrin},'tou
to the Tower." '
She likewise had the Dutch sailors taken
care of in the hospitals in preference to the English, which
to be sure, was only right in a strange country. Tiie States,
in return, sent most affectionate answers, and a supply of
ships. She continues,
" Harl)ord wrote to sirR. Southwell, as he told mo, hut he has a frroat dwil
to say. He pleased me extremely to hear how nuu-h jH-'ople love ine there. When
I think of that, and see what folk do here, it grieves me too much, for
Holland has reallif spoiled me in being so kind to me : that they aro ho to
YOU, 'tis no wonder. I wish to Gotl it was the same here, hut 1 ask your
pardon for this if I once Iwgin upon this suhjeet, I can jiever have d«w.
:
" To put it o»it of my head, 1 must put yoii once more in mind of the custos
rotulornm for lord Fitzharding : he thinks his honour depends on it, siiu'u it
has been so long in his family."
The rest of her letter is taken up with the solicitations of

Marlborough that his pccrlating brother might be made
an admiral, and for that purpose be put over th^ head
of a veteran officer, despite of the protestations of tlic lord
president Carmarthen :
" Marlborough says, that lord president may write to you about one Carter.
'Tis likeenough he will, for he tells me he is a much older qficer, ami will quit
if others come over hi,-: head, and says, all goes by partiality and faction,' as,
'
indeed, I think 'tis but to plain in other things. How it is in this, you nre
l)est able to judge. I writ you word before what Mr. Russell said. Yon will
do in it as you please, for 1 told the connnissioncrs myself that I h()])ed you '
would Ix! here soon, and that I did not see why this matter should not stay for
your coming.' And so I resolve to leave it, if 'tis possible, but could not retiise
my lord Marllwrough, nor indeed myself, the writing yon the matter us it is,
though he oxjiects I should wi-ite in his favour, which, tliough I would not pro-
mise, yet I did make him a sort of compliment after mi/ fashion.'"'
What fashion this was, both biographer and reader would

equally like to know ; but, if we may judge by the preced-
ing words, it was not a very sincere one. ^Maiy, Queen
however, evidently desired to appoint Churchill, broken
as he was for dishonesty, both by parliament and navy,
in preference to the brave Carter, who died a few months
afterwards on the deck of his ship in her cause. The
confession of sir John Fenwick, made after her death,
names Carter as one of her father's warmest friends and, ;
at the same time, implicates Marlborough, llusscU, and

> Dalrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 163. * Ibid.
—
MARY II. 307
Churchill, as in correspondence with the Jaco])ites. It is
a strange task to compare the letters extant of all these

personages : it is like looking into a series of windows,
which hetray to the observer all that passed in those treach-
erous bosoms, until death revealed to them the uselcssness
of their toils and deceits.
The queen, before she wrote again, was alarmed by the
vague rumour of one of the daring actions performed by
Sarsfield, her father's partisan in Ireland, who intercepted
the supplies of cannons, provisions, and money which she
had sent from England for the aid of her husband's troops,
theu besieging Limerick :
"Queen Maby to Kino William.

" WhitolmU, Aug, j{, 1690.
" Tliis is only to let you know
that I have received your duplicate of the 14th,
which aune by Watertbrd, and got hither last night by nine o'clock. There was
no tlniu lost iu obeying your orders, but 1 have several remarks to make another
time.
" Sir Robert Southwell's letter 8^)eak8 of a misfortime to the artillery (which
lie refers to your letter) that is coming by Dublin. 1 cannot imagine the reason
'
'tis nut come yet, nor can being very impatient for it, [i;bout it].
I helj) Tho
messenger tells an imperfect story, which makes a great noise in tho town, [in
Loudon,] and does not lessen the desire for knowing the truth ; besides, 'tis such
a comfort to hear from you, that I can't be blamed for wishing it. This is all I
will say to-night, for should 1 begin to tell my fears that you will not be back so
soon as I could wish, 1 shoidd trouble you, and write myself asleep, it being late.
You know my heart I need say notliing of that, 'tis so entirely yours."
:
The next day brought the confirmation of thebad news.

The event was briefly as follows William had advanced :
to Limerick on August the 8th, o.s. Three days after the

siege commenced, colonel Sarsfield, having got intelligence
that the battering cannon and ammunition were expected
to arrive in William's camp next morning, went secretly

out of Limerick with his forces, and laid an ambush among
the mountains. When the convoy arrived, he made a

sudden attack, spiked the cannon, and exploded the ammu-
nition. The Irish, in their eagerness, blew up with it three

baiTels of money, which the queen had sent her husband.
The uproar alarmed the English camp, but Sarsfield re-
' Tiie queen's ideas are confused between the artillery and her expected letter,
•'e find by her succeeding letters, that this " cross," as she piously calls it,
%ed the taking of Limerick.
X 2
308 MAIIV II.
turned safely back to Limerick.* The queen alludes to

Sarsfield's successful action in her despatch'' dated
" Wliih'lmll, Sop. 1, (An^?. 22) 1090.
" Tills (livy at ncxni I rweivi'd yours, wh'u'li ciiiiio by tlio wiiy of I)ul)liii, mnl
«m sorry to hoo tlio iiU'ssuiij(or's iiows I'oiiriruu'd ; hut pluasod (lod to
it lias lilis-i
you such coiitiiiui'd hikti'sm, tluit it may 1k'

witli luroHsary to liavc mimf
litll,>
cro.i.H, I hopo in (Iml this will not prove ii main one to the main huHJiu'SH
thou(^h it is II torrihle thought to me that your coiniii}^ is put otV ajîiin tor ho
lon^ time. I think it so, I'm sure, and have (rreiit reason, every uiaiiiicr
o(
way.
" I will say iiothinf^ of what my poor heart nuflers, but must tell you that I
am now in jfreat pain alioiit the naming of the tiaj^s. Mr. Uiissell lanie to mo
lust iiiRlit,and said it would now be absolutely neeessary. I insisted iiixjii stayin
till I heard from you. He desired to know 'if I had any particular ivason ?' |
told him, plainly, 'that since I could not pretend to know myself who wore tlic
Attest, it troubled me to see all were not of a mind ; that I was told, by Hovenil
IKTsons, that there were ancient olRcers in the fleet, who had ln'havid tlionisclwH
very well this last time, [battle of Heachy Head,] and would certainly quit if
these were preferred ; so ho [Russi-ll] could not blame me if I desired in tliia
difficulty to stay for your answer.' To this Uussell answered, in more passiun
tlian I ever saw him, 'that Cartt^r and Davis [the senior ofKcors alludi'd to] wwv
too pitiful fellows, and very mean seamen, thou}j;h he knew lord jircsic'cnt mid
lord Nottinj^luvm had spoken for them ; and that next summer he woiild not
command the fleet, if they had tings.' After a loiij^ dispute about this niatttr, I
have put him ofl" till the last moment comes when they are to sail. He [ Rus-
sell ] says, ' then he must speak of it to the commissioners, and hear who will
siK'ttk against it, by which I may judge.'"
The matter was, for the promotion of the disgraced

brother of Marlborough to a flag. How strange it is tliiit
queen Mary did not urge the impossibility of placing a
man, branded as Churchill was, in such a situation. In
these days, the public press would have thundered tlieir
anathemas against such a measure, wheresoever the English
language was read or spoken.

" I sec lord Marlborough's heart is very much set on this matter, and Mr.
Russell, OS you may sec by what I write. On t'other side," adds her niajosty,
" lord president says, '

If Churchill have a flag, it will be called the Jlay hij
favour, as his brother [Marlborough] is called the general h if favour.'"
Marlborough had as yet done little to justify, even in
the eyes of his party, the extraordinary course of prosperity

he had enjoyed, except by his services as revolutionist.
Few persons at this period gave him credit for his skill
' Dalrymple's Memoirs, p. 447, collated with Kelly's Contcmiwrary Hjiiton',
published by the Ciundcn Society. •'
* Dalrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 164.
» The siege of Limerick ; see Dalrymple's Appendix, p. 164.

MAUY 11. 3UD
in niilitary tactics, on which his futiio was founded in tho
r(ij(n of Anne. Ah for iiis personal prowess, that was never

êatly boasted, even by his warmest admirers. Queen Mary
niiutious, in tluj j)aragraph just quoted, the preeise vahie at
which he was rated by the revohitionary party, his compeers
, .
and as she avowedly leant to the appointment of
lO'.K) ;
his peculating brother to an admiral's flag, as shown in her

letter of August \\, she certainly does not speak with the
bitterness of opposition. Neither does queen Mary ever
manifest the slightest enmity to Marlborough himself in this
correspondence. Far from it; she always mentions him

with complacency, though she owns her dislike to his
wife. She continues, on the subject of tlie navy,
" Lord president says, ' If Cliurchill liave u tliij?, that absolutely this Carter
»ill(iuit:' he coniinends him hiij;hly. Hut I must tellyou another tiling, whieh
is, timt lie [lord president] is nli^'htily dissatisfied with the business of Kinsale.'
1 m lie it, for he says,
does not opjiose it is your order, and tlierefore must Ik)
'
obeyed;' but 1 find he I'aises many ditlieulties to mo. What he docs to others I
raniiot tell, but among other things he endeavom's to fright me by the danger
tlimi is of l)eing so exposed, when the fleet and 60UU nam are gone, whieh ho
reckons all the foree, and tells me how easy it will be then for the French to
tomo with only transport-ships, and do what they will."
The victorious French fleet, which had for some weeks

prevented the king of Great Britain from returning from
Ireland, now began to find the autumnal seas dangerous
consequently, the passage was left free for William III.
to slip over to England. The queen's narrative proceeds,
" You will have an account from lord Nottingham of what has been done this
(liiy 1 know you will pity me, and 1 hope will believe that had
and yesterday.
your iL'tterbeen less kind, 1 don't know what had become of me. 'Tis that only
makes me bear all that now so torments me, and 1 give God thanks eveiy day
for your kindness. 'Tia such a satisfaction to mo to find you are satisêrf with
me, tiuit I cannot express it ; and I do so flatter myself with the hopes of being
cnce more happy with you, that that thought alone in this world makes me liear
all with patience. I pray God hear you daily

preserve you from the diuigers I
exiwse yourself to, which puts me is soon
in continual pain. A battle, 1 fancy,
over, but the perpetual shooting you are now in is an intolerable thing to
think on. For (lod's sake, take care of yourself. You owe it to your own
[Holland] and this country, and to all in general. I must not name myself
where church and state are ocpially concerned, yet I must say you owe a little
ftire for my sake, who
I am sure loves you more than you can do nie ; and tho
littie^care you take of your dear person 1 take to be a sign of it, but 1 must still
love ôu more than life."
Klnsale and Cork still held out for her faLhei

310 MARY II.
This tender strain pervades the letter she wrote five

days after, in which she unveils still more of her feelinm
and gives, withal, some amusing family-gossip of
4 of king William's relatives :
"Queen Maey to Kino William.'

the aflairs
" Wliitelmll, Sep. 5, (Aug. 26,) 1690.

" Yesterday I was very much disappointed when lord Nottingham brought me
a letter from you, to find it was only a duplicate of a former, which brought your
orders to lord Marlborough, so that I have now received three of yours of one
tlatc ; you may be sure they are all extreme welcome, but I confess that which
came yesterday would have been more so, had it been of a fresher date.
" I have been just now writing to your axmt, the princess of Nassau, in answer
to one which she wrote, to let mo know of her daughter being about to uiarry
the prince of Saxenschnach. I believe you will bo glad, for yoiu- cousiu's sake,
that she will be disposed of before her mother dies ; and I ever heard it at the
Hague that this yoimg man was good-natured, which will make him use lier
well, though she is so much older. And for his good fortune, she has enough
[good-nature] I believe, to govern him more gently than another cousin of yours
does her spouse."
Meaning herself and William with playful irony, sle con-

:
trastsher own utter submission and devotion to her master

with the airs of a governing wife. She then opens her
own heart to the object of her love, while her ostensible
purpose of sending cannon, and the use to be made of them,
are mingled strangely with her honeyed sentences :
" I can't help laughing at this wedding,though my poor heart is ready to

break every time 1 think in what perpetual danger you are, I am in greater
fears than can be imagined by any one v/lio loves less than myself. I count
the hours and the moments, and have only reason enough to think, as long as
I have no letters, all is well.
" I believe, by what you write, that you got your cannon Friday at farthest
and then Saturday, I suppose, you began to make use of them. Judge, then,
what cruel thoughts they are to me, to think what you may be exposed to all
this while. I never do any thing without thinking now, it may be, you are in the
greatest dangers, and yet I must see company upon my sett days. I must phiy
twice a-week, —nay, I must laugh and tidk, though never so much against my
will. I believeI dissemble very ill to those who know me, —
at least, 'tis a
great constrauit to myself, yet I must endure it. ill my motions are so
watched, and all I do so observed, that if I eat less, or speak less, or look more
grave, all h lost in the opinion of the world. So that I have this misery added
to that of your absence and my fears for your dear person, that I must grin
when my heart is ready to break, and talk when it is so oppressed I can scarce
breathe."*
Such was the resul't of the fruition of her ambition!

Surely Dante, in all his descriptions of torture, M'hethcr
Dalrymple's Memoirs, p. 166. •i

Ibid., p. 167.
MARY II. 311
ludicrous or pathetic, or both combined, does not surpass

Mary's " grin when her heart Avas ready to burst." Queen
Mary, hke all the royal race of Stuart, excepting her sister
Anne, was born with literary abilities. Happily for her-
self, she was unconscious of those powers, for the excit-
ability of the brain devoted to literary pursuits is by no
means likely to soothe the thorns interwoven in every
regnal diadem. The calamities of authors are as proverbial
as and both had been united in her hapless
those of kings,
race. It would be difficult for any professional pen to
have given a more forcible or beautiful transcript of human
feeling than this, which sprang in unstudied simplicity
from the queen's mind, written, as it avowedly is, against

her inchnation, in order to unburden her overcharged heart
to its only confidant. She continues,
" I don't know what I slioiild do, were it not for the grace of God, which
supports me. I am sure I have great reason to praise the Lord while I live, for
his great I don't sink under this affliction,
mercy that —
nay, that I keep my
health, can neither sleep nor eat. I go to Kensington as often as I can
for I
for air, but then I can never be quite alone ; neither can I complain, that
would be some ease ; but I have nobody whose hmnour and circumstances agree
«ith mine enough to speak my mind freely. Besides, I must hear of business,
which, being a thing I am so new in, and so unfit for, does but break my brains
ihe more, and not ease my heart.
" I see I have insensibly made my letter too long upon my own self, but I
am confident you love enough to bear it for once. I don't remember I have
hccn guilty of the like fault before since you went, and that is now three
months; for which time of almost perpetual fear and trouble this is but a
short account, and so I hope may pass."
It is apparent, from this passage, that Mary had been

chidden by her spouse on account of the length of these
letters. She resumes,
" 'Tis some ease to me to write my pain, and 'tis some satisfaction to believe
jou will pity me. It will be yet more when I hear it from yourself hi a letter,
as I am sure you must, if it be but out of common good-nature j how much
more, then, out of kindness, if you love me as well as you make me believe,
ami as I endeavour to deserve a little by that sincere and lasting kindness I
have for you. But, by making excuses, I do but take up more of your time,
and therefore must tell you that this morning lord Marlborough went away.
As little reason as 1 have to care for his wife, yet I must pity her condition,
having laiu-in but eight days; and I have great compassion for >vives, when
tlieir husbands go to fight."
It is remarkable, that the only person besides her husband

ff\r \r\i' Mn
j.fiar'"' manifests
312 MAllY II.
i'il/'
human sympatliy, should be the woman whose pen was
most active Lord Marlborough set
in vituperating her.
off for Ireland on an expedition to reduce Cork and Kinsalc
which, it is as well to mention here, fell in the course of
six weeks, and were the first fruits of his genius in battle
and siege. The queen says of this undertaking,
" I hope this hiisincss will succeed, I find if it do not, those who have
advised it will have an ill time, all, except lord Nottingham, being very miicli
against it ; lord president only complying Ixjcause it was your order, but not
liking it, and wondering England should be left so exposed, thinking it too
great a hazard. There would be no end should I tell you all I hear upon tliis
subject, but I thank God I am not afraid, nor do I doubt of the thing, since it is
by your order. I pray God the weather does not change with you as it does
here : it has rained night and this day, and looks as if it were
all tlie last set in
for it. me
now, but were I once more so happy as
Every thing frights to see
you here, I fancy I should fear nothing.
" I have always forgot to teU you, that in the Utrecht Courant they have
printed a letter of yours to the states of Holland, in which you promise to be
soon with them. I can't tell you how many ill hours I have had about tliat, in
the midst of my joy when I thought you were coming home, for it troubled me
to think you would go over and fight again there."
And what was worse, indulge at Loo in the society of her

rival, Elizabeth Villiers, the companion of his coarse relaxa-
tions in Holland ; which consisted of schnaps, smoking, and
more vulgarity than could be ventured upon in the presence
of the English court and his stately queen, who, whatsoever
were her deficiencies in family benevolence, these letters
will prove possessed a cultivated mind; yet, like her an-
cestress the wife of the Conqueror, and Matilda Atliel-
ing, shewas often left to sway a lonely sceptre, while her

husband was absent prosecuting his continental wars, and
soothing the discontents of his transmarine subjects. The
Dutch, in fact, soon began to murmur at the pains and
penalties of absenteeism, which is, sooth to say, the curse
of pluralities, whether they be possessions temporal or
spiritual.
The next paragraph in the queen's letter alludes to an
eccentric character, whom we suppose to be the elector
of Brandenburgh. From her description, his letter tc her
must have been a real curiosity, and we regret in vain that

a cnnv
-
--iv
wns not — finnlnspfl in hpr HnmisR.
~r
i
MARY II. 313
must tell you, that Mr. Johnson writes that Mr. Dancklcman litis writ the
"I
elector word that you received the news very coldly that he, the elector, was
come to the army, which they say vext him. I wish you had seen a letter I
had from him ; it was full of so many extraordinary things, hut so like him. I
liavc had a present from him of an amber cabinet, for wliich I think it is not
necessary to write."
The amber cabinet seems to indicate that the queen's

eccentric correspondent was the sovereign of Prussia.'
"Now," concludes queen Maiy, "my letter as if I were
is so long, 'tis
liewit»hcd to-night. I can't end for my life, butnow, beseech-

will force myself
ing God to bless you, and keep you from all dangers whatsoever, and to send us
lihappy meeting again here upon earth ; and, at last, a joyful and blessed one
in heaven in his good time. Farewell Do but continue to love me, and forgive
!
the taking up so much of your time by your poor wife, who deserves more pity
tlian over any creature did, and who loves you a great deal too much for her own
case, though it can't be more than you deserve."
King William was defeated in an attempt to storm

Limerick, August 26, owing to the desperate resistance of
the governor, colonel Sarsfield. After leaving 1200 regular
soldiers dead in the trenches, he raised the siege of Lime- •1
i
rick, August 30, and embarked, September 5th, for England.
His brother-in-law, prince George of Denmark, was per-

mitted to sail in the same ship with him, though not to
enter his coach. So prosperous was his voyage, that they
arrived in King's-road, near Bristol, September -/y, driven
by the equinoctial winds, before which the French ships

had prudently retired from the dangerous British Channels,
when the king of Great Britain, finding the coast clear, got
safely to the other side of the water. The news of his land-
ing di'ew from the queen the following letter :
"Queen Mart to King William.

" Whitehall, Sep. 'g*, 1690.
"
Lord Winchester ismeet you, which you may believe I will
desirous to go
never hinder any one. Wliether I ought to send him out of form sake I can't
tell but it may pass for what it ought to the world, and to your dear self, at
;
least, I suppose it is indifferent. Nothing can express the impatience I have to

see you, nor my joy to think it is so near. I have not sleept all this night for
it,though I had but five hours rest the night before, for a reason I shall tell
you. I am now going to Kensington to jmt things in order there, and intend
to dine there to-morrow, and expect to hear when I shall sett out to meet
you.
'
He v/aa made knight of the darter about a month after, at the same time
i with the duke of Zell, another friend and ally of William III., the father of
.f i
314 MARY II.
" I hml a compliment, lust ni(i;lit, from the qnuon-dowiifjcr, [Catlmrino

of
nmgmizu,] who came to town a-Frhhii/, [on Friday]. She Hont, I hcHovc, witli
Hilt' ,<i
a hotter lieart., hecanse Limmrricke is not lakcn for my jmrt. I don't lliinic of
;
that, or any tiling hnt you. (1(kI send you u g(X)d journey homo, i.ud nmice inu
thankful aa I ought for all hiw moreies."
So closes this rcgiial corrcsiiondoiicc ; it concludes as it
began, witli tlie expression of ill-will against the uiilortu.

nate Catharine of Braganza.
King William arrived at Kensington, September >=<>.
How att'ectionately he was received by his adjring consort

may be supposed from her precjcding love-letters. The
,1 queen met her lmsl)and at Windsor, from whence they went
to Hampton-Court, where they settled for the remainder of
the autumn.
The queen is said to have resided, while the rebuilding of
the state-rooms of Hampton-Court proceeded, in a suite
of rooms called * the Water Gallery,^ the principal structure
in which, the banqueting-room, is now in existence, an 1 this
communicated with the royal apartments of the queens of

England by a subterranean way. The contemporary draw-
iug, representing the original appearance of the banquctiug-
room, shows that it was turreted and had a flag-staff, which
indicated, by the standard of England, when royalty abode
at Hampton-Court.'
Uumpton-Court Tracts, King's MSS., Brit. Musomn.
*
MARY II.
(iUHKN-UHGNANT OP GREAT IJRITAIN AND IRELAND.
CIIArTER VIII.
(irciit abHitics of — Mnry and death of princess Anne's dauplitcr—

II. llirth
Kiii^ sails for —Queen
the lliif^fm; sulun — Coiulcnnns her
iijâln jroveriis father's
frii'iiilHdeath —
to of lord Preston's
Riiinonstrances —Torture of Nevill
child
Payne — Dan^êr of the king — His of the — Her concerns with
praises (|ueen
chnrch —
tlie danper
CJneen's the conflagration of Whitehall — Takes
at refiigo
in St. — Insulted hy the Jacohites— Rettirn of the king—
Jaines'8-j)ark (iueen's
negotiationwith Dr. — departure — Queen appoints Dr.
'I'illotson KiTig's Tillot-
son primate — Provnotcm Dr. Hoojier — Rage of the king— of the queen (Irief
— Her with her
diilerences and Geoi'ge of Denmark —Anne demands
sister
the (Jarter forMarlhoroiigh — Her the king — (Jontemj)tuou8
letter to refusal
of the queen—Anne and her makiontent— They write
favourites .James to II.
— Queen's persecution of William thj quaker — Queen's
I'eim, lady letter to
— Her conversation with Dr. H<K)per—Return of the king—Queen
llusHi'll
reproached hy him — His remark on her— Princess Anne's

cynical her letter to
father—Queen's quarrel with her
ojjen —Letters of thesister on royal sisters
the dismissalof Marlborough — Final rupture and of the Marlboroughs
ejection
from Whitehall— Princess Anne with them — She
dei)arts Sion-house Ixirrows
of the duchess of Somerset
drawing-room in Kensington-palact
—
Queen Mary's reception of her sister at her
—
Burnet's private opinions of the conduct
of the queen and the ])rincess Anne —
She is deprived of her guards by tho
king and queen —
Departure of the king.
The abilities of queen Mary, and the importanee of her per-

sonal exertions as a sovereign, have been as much under-
rated, as the goodness of her heart and Christian excellenees
have been over-estimated. She really reigned alone the
chief was queen of Great
part of the six years that she
Britain. On her talents for government, and all her hus-
band owed to her sagaeity, intelligence, and exclusive affec-
tion to him, there is little need to dwell ; her own letters
fully develop the best part of her character and conduct.
William III., with the exception of the first year of his

election to the throne of the British empire, was seldom
!»
816 MARY II.
resident more than four months togetherin Enghind, and

ly wouUl have tarried that space of time, but for the
scjirccly
purpose of inducing the parliament to advance enonii(>us
' 1
sums to support the war he carried on in Fhinders, where
he commanded as generalissimo of the confederated ai'niies
of the German empire against France, as heretofore, hut
with tliis difference, that all the wealth of the British kiii<'-
doms was turned to supply the funds for those fields of
useless slaughter, the prospect of obtaining such sinews of
war having been the main object of William's etlbrts to
dethrone his uncle.

It is worthy of remark, that Dr. Hooper, the friend
and chaplain of queen Mary, held her consort's abilities in
as low estimation as he always did his character and reli-
gious principles, while he pointed out the great talents
of the princess, and said, " that if her husband retained his
throne, it would be by her skill and talents for govcrninjjf.
Few gave him credit for this assertion, but all came round
to his idea when they had seen her at the helm for some
months." 'The king did not leave her so soon as she had
dreaded in the summer, but his stay in England was a
mere series of preparations for his spring campaign. Lord
Marlborough arrived before the close of the autumn from
Ireland, where he had met with brilliant success in reducing
Cork and Kinsale he had an audience of thanks from the
:
king and queen at Kensington. Notwithstanding tlie flat-

tering reception they gave him, he saw that they remem-
bered with secret displeasure his interference when parlia-
ment settled the princess Anne's income. At St. Janies's-
palaee, the princess gave birth to a daughter, who was
baptized Mary, after the queen, but the infant died in the
course of a few hours.

The king left the queen to embark for the Hague at a
very dangerous and unsettled time, just on the eve of the
explosion of a plot for the subversion of their government.
He took leave of her January ^V 1690-1, and embarked
with admiral Rooke and a fleet of twelve ships of the line.
' Hooiier MS., edited in Trevor's William III., vol. ii.
MAIIY ir. 317
Tlio queen was by the assistanee of the same

left to govern,
jmita of nine, by the discontented " the
who were called
nine kings." The departure of William was eele])rated by
some English Jacobite impertinences in rhyme, which were
aaitl or sung by more persons than history records; and i'-' :
!l
these lines note what history docs not, the increasing cor-
pulence of her majesty.

"Dki'aiituuk of Kino William from Queen Maby.'
" IIo ut tho Hoyno his father bent,
Aiul ninuUal tho Irish Turk j
Tlie rebel ho did iiiako retreat.

With Oiiikell and with Kirko.
Hut now ho is to Holhmd gone.
That eountry to defend,
And \{it\ tho (jueen and us alone.
No stati!S have sueh a friond.
The royal dame own fill at onec
Her husband's tri])lo throne.
For she is thriee as big as he.
And boars three queens in one,"
The rail ite traits pertaining to the queen's sayings and

doings, and personal peculiarities, indicate that the authors
of these satires were literally about her path, and stationed
round her private apartments.
" Ve whigs and ye tories, repair to Wliitchall,
And there ye shall see majestieal Mall
She fills up tho throne in tho absence of Willy,
Never was monarch so chattering and silly.
She's governed in council by marquis Carmarthen,

And praises the virtues of lady Fitzharding j
She eats like a horse, is as fat as a sow,
And she's led about by 'republic Jack Howe.'"''
" RepublicJack Howe " was her majesty's vice-chamber-

lain he was remarked for his great enmity to king William.
;
The sneer at the queen's praises of the virtue of Elizabeth

Villiers, lady Fitzharding, is remarkable in the foregoing
Hnes. Elizabeth Villiers is satirized as " Betty the beauty,"^

an epithet little consistent wîth Swift's opinion of her person.
• Lansdowne MS., British Museum. MS. Songs, collected for Robert Ha: ley,
curl of Oxford.
' Ibid. Likewise in the MSS. of sir Robert Strange, with sorao undesirable
variittions. 3
Hjjd,
318 MAllY II.
The very day

after the king's departure, the important
trialof lord Preston and Mr. Ashton (a gentleman of the
household of the exiled queen Mary Beatrice) took place
for conspiring the restoration of James II. Lord Preston
and Ashton were found guilty, on slender evidence, and
condemned to death. It is said, that the daughter of lord
Preston, lady Catharine Graham, a little girl of but nine
years old, saved her father's life by a sudden appeal to
the feelings of queen Mary. The poor child was, during

the trial of her father, left in the queen's apartments at
Windsor-castle, where he lately had an establishment as

James II.'s lord chamberlain, which probably, in the vio-
lent confusion of events, had not been legally taken from
his domestics and family. The day after the condemnation
of lord Preston, the queen found the little lady Catharine
in St. George's gallery, gazing earnestly on the whole-leugth
picture of James II. j which still remains there. Struck with
the mournful expression of the young girl's face, Mary asked
her hastily, "What she saw in that picture, which made
her look on it so particularly?" —
" I was thinking," said
the innocent child, " how hard it is that my father must
die for loving yours." The story goes, that the queen,
pricked in conscience by this artless reply, immediately
signed the pardon of lord Preston, and gave the father
^
back to the child.
It is an ungracious task to dispel the illusions that are
pleasant to all generous minds. Glad should we be to
record as a truth that the pardon of lord Preston sprang
from the melting heart of queen Mary; but, alas the real !
circumstances of the case will not suffer the idea to be che-

rished for a moment. Lord Preston was only spared in
order to betray by his evidence the deep-laid ramifications
of the plot, which compromised many of the nobility and
clergy; above all, lord Preston's confessions were made use
of to convict his higli-spirited coadjutor, young Ashton, 1o
' Dah-ymple's History of tbo Ilcvolution of Great Uritain, &c. There ure
several minutiaj the author has supplied from traditions, preserved among her
northern relatives.
—
MARY IT. 319
whose case the appeal of little lady Catharine' applied as

much as it did to her father. Queen Mary, however, signed
the death-warrant of Ashton without any relenting, and he
was execute !. He died with gi'eat courage, and prayed for
king James with his last breath.
Lord Preston's revelations implicated the queen's uncle,
lord Clarendon, who continued under very severe incar-
ceration in the Tower during her regency. The extensive
conspiracy was connected with the formidable coalition in
Scotland, which the queen had partially detected in the
summer, when it will be remembered that Nevill Payne,
the Jacobite tutor to the young earl of Mar, had been
arrested by her orders during the absence of king William
in Ireland. Her majesty had written, before the return of

the king, it seems, several autograph letters to the privy
council had made some ominous
of Scotland, in which she
inquiries what had become of Mr. Nevill Payne.'*
as to
These inquiries were, to be sure, blended with many pious
expressions, and as many recommendations " to praise God,"
which hints in state-documents, unfortunately, are too fre-
quently followed by some unusual perpetration of cruelty to
his creatures. The result was, the following infliction on
her father's faithful and courageous servant. As it is diffi-
cult to abstain from indignant language in such a case, we
Mill only use that addressed to the principal minister of her
majesty for Scotland, who was then at court, expediting the
business relating to this affair with the queen :
"to Lord Melville.*

" Yesterday, in the afternoon, Nevill Paine was questioned upon some things
that wore not of the greatest concern, and had but gentle torture given him,
' Lady Catharine Graham afterwards married the representative of the heroic
line of vV'iddrington,
whose fortunes fell in the subsequent northern sti'uggles
for the restoration of the ln)use of Stuart, navor to rise again.
Melville Papers, pp. 582-585.
2
' Letter from the earl of Crafurd, at Edinburgh, to lord Melville, at Mary's
court London. Nevill Payne soon afterwards died of the ellects of these
in
cniolties. Great difficulty was experienced by the author of this Life in discover-
ing the situation in life
of Mr. Nevill Payne; at lust, from Cimningham the his-
torian's abuse of him as the
preceptor to the young earl of Mar, it appears that
lie was
a clergyman of the Scotch episcopalian church. Cmmingham himself
was preceptor to the duke of Argyie, lord Max's opponent at Sheriii'muir.
ri
—
320 MARY II.
beiii)jf it tins day ; wliich, aecordin^^ly, about six this

resolved to repent cvonliicr
we iurtictedon lM)th liis tlnunhs and one of his legs with all tlie Hoverity tlmt
was eonsist«'nt with humanity, [such humanity !] even to that {litch that we
could not preserve life and have i/one farther ; hut without the least hucccss
for his answers to all our interrogatories were negatives. Yea, lie wius ho nmiilv
and resohite under his suffering, that such of the council as were not ac((uainto(l
with all tiio evidences were bungled, [staggered,] and began to give liim cimiity
that he might be inntwent. It was surprising to me and others that tiisii and
blootl could, without fainting, endure the heavy penance ho was in for
two
hours."
It is some satisfaction to perceive that the narrator of this

atrocious scene was asliamed and conscience-stricken, and
even sick; at the part he had played as chief-inquisitor in
this liideous business, for he adds,
" My stomach is, by being a witness to an act so fur
truly, so out of tune,
cross to my natural temper, that I am than any thing else ; but tlie
fitter for rest
dangers from such conspirators to the person of our incomparable king Imvi"
prevailed over me, in the council's name, to have been the prompter of the
executioner to increase the tortiu-e to so high a pitch."
While these appalling scenes were proceeding in London

and Edinburgh, the life of the consort of the queen had
been exposed to imminent danger from the elements. King
William had made the coast of Holland two days after v? 1;
depai cure, but found that the fleet in which he sailed dared
approach no nearer to the coast at Goree than four miles, for
a dense frost-fog was settled over the shore, and wrapped
every object in its impenetrable shroud. The king was
extremely anxious to arrive at the Hague, where their high
mightinesses the States-deputies were waiting for him to
open their sessions, and they had in the previous year ex-
pressed great jealousy of his long absence in his new sove-
reignty. Notwithstanding the fog, some fishermen ventured
on board the king's ship, and reported that Goree was not a
mile and a half distant the king, therefore, resolved to be
;
rowed on shore in his barge, into which he went with the

duke of Ormonde, and some of the English nobility of his
m suite. In a few minutes the royal barge was totally lost in
the fog, and could neither find the shore nor regain the fleet.
Night fell, and the waves became rough with a ground-swell.
The king laid down in the bottom of the open boat, only
sheltered by his cloak ; the waves washed over him several
times, and the danger seemed great. Some one near the
MAHY II. 3:21
king expressed his despair at their situation. " What ! are

you afraid to die with me?" asked his majesty, sternly.'
At day-break the shore was discovered, and the king hmded
safely at Aranick Haak, and from thence went to the Hague,
where he was received triumphantly, with illuminations and
all possible rejoicings. It was his first state entrance into
his old dominions as king of Great Britain, which the Dutch
firmly believed was as much his conquest as it had been that
of Norman William in the eleventh century. In all the

pageantry at the Hague he was greeted with the cognomen
of William " the Conqueror," to the shame and confusion of
face of the duke of Ormonde, and many English nobles he
brought in his train. The carl of Nottingham, the friend

and confidential adviser of queen Mary, who was present at
this entry, made some complimentary remark on the accla-
mations of the Dutch. William replied, "Ah, my lord ! if
my queen were but here, you would see a difference. Where

they now
give one shout for me, they would give ten for
her."^ Perhaps his recent danger had caused his heart to
be unusually tender in its conjugal reminiscences.
It will be allowed that queen Mary must have possessed
considerable personal and mental courage, when it is remem-

bered that she was left alone at the helm of government m
during the awful events which marked the spring of 1690-1,
when the execution of the devoted Asîton, and others of
her father's friends, took place; likewise the incarceration
of her eldest uncle. Far more dangerous was the step she
•ill
had to take in dispossessing the anostolic archbishop of
Canterbiu-y, and other disinterested clergy of the chui'ch of

England, who refused to take the oaths of allegiance to
herself and her spouse. Nor could the queen have suc-
ceeded in this bold undertaking had she not been supported
by a standing army, and if that army had not been blended
with a numerous portion of foreigners it was likcM'ise under
:
the unwonted terrors of the lash. Infinitely was the church

of England beloved by the commonalty, and great reason
' Barnard's History of England, p. 525. 1 .,>
Echard's History of tlie Revolution.

VOf,. VII.
m'
•sfl
O.W.V MAIIY II.
''-i I
had the people for miiiiifcstiug towards its clcr<^y tlic most
ardent gratitude.
Those who are observers of historical facts, will readily
concur in the remark, that all the changes in our iiutioiial
modes of worship have been cttected by (pieens. Without
dwelling on the tradition that the empress Helena, a Ihntisli
lady, planted the gospel in England, it may be remcmbcrod
that Ethelburga, the wife of Edwin king of Nortlmmbria,
and her mother, revived the Christian religion by the ajêncv
of Paulinus; that Anne Boleyn caused Henry VIII. to open
his eyes to the Reformation; that Katharine Parr's influ-
ence preserved the present endowments of our church ; that

Mary I. restored the Roman hierarchy to a feeble but cruel
exercise of power, which was triumphantly wrested from that
still formidable body by flie able policy of queen Elizal)ctli.
We have here to record innovations of a scarcely less im-
portant nature, which were eftcctcd by queen Mar^ H. iu
the established church of England. Evidence of the cIiuTigcs
in queen Mary's own mind and conduct, from the days of

her youth, when Hooper and Ken were her pastors, has been
carefully and painfully collected and laid before our readers,
who will, without difficulty, analyze the reasons why deca-
dence sorrow paralysed the church of England for

aiul
nearly a century after the sway of this highly praised
woman. When archbishop Sancroft suffered imprisoumcut
for having resisted the rapid advances of James 11. to place
the Roman clmrch on an equality with the church of Eug-

laiul, all disinterested observers of history will allow that
our established religion had attained a degree of perfection

not often btiheld on this earth; nor were the excclhiices
of her clergy at that period confined to their mere Icaruiiif,'
and literary merit, although Hall, Hooker, George Herbert,
Taylor, Barrow, Sanderson, and Ken, rise to memory as
among the classics of their century. Recently tried by
the persecutions of Cromwell, and still further purified in
1072 by the abrogation of the worst part of the poual hiws,

the church of England was thus prepared to offer, iu the
reign of Mary II., that great example of seU- denial for
MARY II. 323
conscience' sake, which ouglit never to be forgotten by

history.
Mary temporized for upwards of a year, in the astute

expectation that the possession of the |)()wer, dignity, and
splendid revenues of the see of Cunterl)ury, and, above all,
that the aversion which old ago ever has to change of life
and usages, would at last altogether shake the principles of

archbishop Bancroft into some compromise with expediency.
As she found that this was vain, she declared his deprivation,
and warned him to qnit Lambctli, February 1, 1G!)0-1. Six
other learned and disinterested prelates of the cluirch of
England,' with several hundred divines, were deprived by
queen Mary on the same day.^ Sancroft took no notice of
this act, but continued to live at the palace, exercising the
same charity and hospitality as before. Bishop Ken remon-

strated, and read a protestation in the market-place of
Wells, pointing out the illegality of the queen's proceedings.
Finding this was unavailing, Ken, who carried not away a
sixpence from his bishopric, retired to the charity of his
nephew, the rev. Isaac Walton, who gave him refuge in his
prebendal house in Salisbury-close. No successor had as yet
been appointed to the see of Canterbury. Dean Tillotson
was suppos(^d to be the future archbishop It was given out
tha^ .0 queen (regarding whose attachment to the church .n
of Kugland a political cry was raised) had the sole raanage-
mciii and that the choice of all the

of ecclesiastical affairs, ill"
dignitarieswas her own unbiassed act. Archbishop Sancroft

observed, "that he had committed no crime against church
or state which could authorize his degradation, and that if
the queen wished for his place at Lambeth, she must send
and thrust him out of it by p'usonal violence." He, how-

ever, packed up his beloved books, and waited for that hour.
Thousands of swords woidd have been flashing in the defence

' Lloyd, bishop of Norvvieli, and Ijiike, bishop of Chichester, supplied the
places ofLloyd of St. Asaph, and Trelawncy of Bristol, and thus the number of
the " sacred seven," who had equally resisted the corruptions of Borne and the
innovations of dissent, was completed.
' D'Oyley's Life of Sancroft. Some say seven hiuidred clergy, others four .
hundred. Further information on this important point is afforded by Palin's

History of the Church of EnKknd, from 1688 to I7l7.
Y 2
a
mm
i|!r:
324 MARY II.
of the venerable primate if he would have endured the appeal

"'lis
to arms, but passive resistance he deemed the only^ the proper

!
!
demeanour for a Christian prelate of the reformed church.
The people of the present age have forgotten the sneers that
Hi;,..
''
I,: prevailed against these principles throughout a great part of
century, and therefore are better able to appreciate
('
the last
conduct, assuredly more worthy of primitive Christianity
than the mammon-worshipping seventeenth century would
allow. A dead pause ensued. Queen Mary was perplexed
as to the person whom she could appoint to fill the archi-
episcopal seat of Canterbury. Her tutor, Compton bishop of

London, had the ambition to desire this high appointment
but his extreme ignorance, his military education, and the
perpetual blunders he made in his functions, would not per-
mit such advancement.'
The queen was, at this important juncture, earnestly soh-
cited in behalf of her eldest uncle, Henry lord Clarendon^

by his friend Katharine, the dowager lady Ranelagh, and by
his brother, her uncle Lawrence, earl of Rochester, parti-
cularly, for some relaxation in the severity of his durance in

the Tower. The reader will recall the queen's own extra-
ordinary narrative of her committal of her eldest uncle to
that fortress in the commencement of her last regency.
Attainder and trial for high treason were now hanging over
the head of Clarendon, whose health, moreover, was sinking

under the depression of solitary confinement. Meantime,
lady Ranelagh had previously negotiated the armistice be-
tween the queen and her uncle Rochester, through the agency
of Burnet. The executor of Burnet claims much credit for
'^
Stf-
the generosity of that person, as the queen's uncU s always
disliked him yet there was a mixture of policy in the in-
;
terference, as, to use Burnet's own phraseology, " 'twasn't
decent " for the people to see one of the queen's uncles in
durance in the Tower, and another in estrangement and im-
poverishment, because they beheld the exaltation of their
» With the idea of making his court, however, to the king for this purpose,
bishop Compton had ieft his see, and accompanied him hi his voyage to Holkiul,
2 Life of Burnet, p. 272.

f :
!
S??
MARY II. 325
sister's daughter with horror. Had they been brothers of

the queen's step-mother, such conduct might have been ex-
pected but that the brothers of her mother should afford
;
such examples, left on her cause a glaring reproach, which .^ 1; I-
could not too soon be removed.

In one of lady Ranelagh's* remonstrances on the subject
of enmity between queen Mary and her uncles, she thus
the
speaks of the queen " This same royal person would not, I
:
think, act unbecoming herself, or the eminent station God
has placed her in, in assisting five innocent children, who
have the honour to be related to her royaP mother, (who

did still, with great tenderness, consider her own family
when she was most raised above when, init,) especially
assisting them, her majesty will need only to concern herself
to preseiTC a property made theirs by the law of England,
which, as queen of this kingdom, she is obliged to main-

tain." It is probable that the allusion here made, is to some
grant or pension formerly given by the Stuart sovereigns
in aid of the maintenance of the ennobled family of Hyde,
the titles of which, howsoever well deserved they might be,
were not supported on the broad basis of hereditary estates,

—a circumstance which places the conscientious opposition of
Henry earl of Clarendon to his royal niece in a more decided
hght, and accounts, at the same time, for the compliance of
her uncle Lawrence, earl of Rochester, after long reluctance.
"I know not," says the queen's younger imcle, Lawrence,

"whether the queen can do me any good in this affair, but I
helieve her majesty cannot but wish she could; however, I
think I shoulu have been very wanting to ray children if I
had not laid this case most humbly before her majesty, lest
at one time she herself might say I might have been too
negligent in making applications to her, which, having now

done, I leave the rest, with all possible submission, to her
'
Katharine lady Ranelagh was the dowager lady of that name, the daughter
of Richard, first earl of Cork j she was nearly connected with the queen's
maternal relatives.
* Anne Hyde, ducheap of York, csillcd " royal " by lady Ranelagh, because she
was by marriage a member of the royal family.
——
326 MARY II.
own judgment, and to the reflection that some good-natured

moments may incline her towards my family."
During the earl of Clarendon's hard confinement, his more
complying brother thus writes of him " Such a petition :
might be presented with a better grace [to the queen] if he

were once out of the Tower on bail, than it would be while he
is under this close confinement." Again the brother strives
'
to awaken some compassion in the heart of the queen, by

pathetic reminiscences of their illustrious father, the grand-
sire on whose knees Mary had been reared at 1 wickeuham.
im He writes to Burnet,
" I will allow you, as a servant of the queen, to have as great a detestation of
the contrivance,''^ as you can wish. But when I consider you, as you once were
l,t a concerned friend, to have a respect for his family, and particularly for our
father, [the great earl of Clarendon,] who not only lost all the honours and pre-
ferments of this world, hut even the comforts of it too, for the integrity and
uprightness of his heart, you must forgive me if I conjure you, hy all that is
sacred, that you do not suffer this next heir to my good father's name to go
down with sorrow to the grave. I cannot hut think that the queen v.'ould do
(and would he glad to avow it too,) some great thing for the mer>i.; Mt
•
gentleman, though long in his grave."
The queen's grandfather, lord Clarendon, is designated by

the expression " that gentleman ;" yet all the bearings of
her conduct prove that Mary had as little tenderness for her
maternal relatives as for her father, for in all her corres-
pondence extant, the words "my mother" are not to be

found traced by her pen. Yet this biography brings in-
stances in which that parent's memory, and even that of
her grandfather, were pressed on the queen's recollection.
" I hope," continues her uncle Lawrence, still pleading
against the attainder of his eldest brother by the govern-
ment of his niece,
" I hope there may be a charitable inclination to spare the delrh of our
broken family, for the sake of him that was the miser of it. A calamity of the
nature that I now deprecate has something in it so frightful, aiid on some ac-
counts so unnatural, that I beg you [Burnet] for God's sake, from an angry
man, to grow an advocate for me and for the family on this uccount."'
The last of these letters is dated New Park, April 2, 1691.

» Burnet's Life, p. 286.
' The Ashton and Preston plot, for participation in which the queen's eldest
uncle wiw then imprisoned. •
» Burnet's Life, p. 286.

MARY II. 327
It is doubtful whether the unfortunate lord Clarendon was

liberated from the Tower until after the death of his old
friend, admiral lord Dartmouth, committed to the Tower by
queen Mary the day after the date of the above letter.
Dartmouth died of grief and regret, after a few months*
durance; and when the queen at last Uberated her eldest
uncle, he was to hold himself a prisoner within the limits of
his country-house.
Queen Mary cherished a strong desire to add the noble
French colony of Canada to her transatlantic dominions. In
the preceding winter of 1691, Quebec was summoned to sur-
render to king William and queen Mary. The goA'êrnor of

Quebec, Frontinac, replied, " that he knew neither king Wil-
liam nor queen Mary; but, whosoever they might be, he
should hold out the garrison given in charge from his master,
Louis XIV., against them."* Under the queen's regency,
a detachment of British troops was despatched to invade the
colony, but the expedition was unsuccessful. Canada con-

tinued in the power of the original colonists for more than
half a century.
King William returned to England to procure supplies
of money and troops, April 3^, 1691. The night of his
arrival, fire had reduced the principal part of
a tremendous
Whitehall to ashes,which presented only heaps of smoking
ruins as he came up the river on the following morning.
The conflagration commenced in the Portsmouth apart-

ments, which had been the original cause of the enmity
between the queen and her sister Anne. It was occa-
sioned by linen igniting in the laundry. The Jacobite
writers accuse king William of setting fire to Whitehall,
because he could not bear to inhabit the former palaces

of uncles, and in the hope of excluding the public,
his
who claimed, by prescription too ancient to be then con-
troverted, the right of free entrance while their sovereigns
sat in state at meat, or took their diversions. The demoli-
tion of Hampton- Court, the desolation of Greenwich-palace,
. the queen's eldest
and the desertion of Whitehall for Kensington, were quoted
> Dangeau, vol. ii. p. 369.
PI 328 MARY II.
¥0}
by the malcontents. The conflagration of Whitehall cer-
tahily originatedby accident, for queen Mary, \,Vr û^

a very heavy sleeper, nearly lost her life in the flames.
The Portsmouth suite being contiguous to the qiTeen's side,
or privy-lodgings, the flames had communicated to the
!'
i
H
lutter before the queen could be awakened, and she was
dragged, half asleep, in her night-dress into St, James's-
park. Here new adventures befell her, for colonel Ogle-
thorpe and sir John Fenwick, two gentlemen devoted to
her father, leaders of the Jacobite party, seeing her cou-

sternation, followed her through the park to St. James's,
reviling her by the lurid light of the flames of Whitehall,
and telling filial sins would come home
her "that her
to her."
— " She
w as notoriously insulted by them/" re-
peats another manuscript authority. " The long gallery
was then burnt, most of the royal apartments, with those
of the king's ofl&cers and servants." Edmund Ga'amy is
the only printed annalist of the times who alludes to the
reproaches made to the queen. This author is too timid
to entci' into detail. However, those who compare his hints
with our quotations, will see that these curious facts are
confirmed by that respectable and honest nonconformist.
"Without particularizing where the offence was committed,
Calamy confirms our MS. evidence in these words, speaking
of sir John Fenwick :
" He had taken several opportunities
of affronting queen Mary in places of public resort."^
Many invalufible portraits and treasures of antiquity he-
longing to the ancient regality of England were consumed
with Whitehall-palace. Some nameless poet of that day
commemorated the event in these lines :
" See the im^Kirial palsice's remains,

Wlierc notliing now but desolation reigns
Fatal presage of monarchy's decline.
And extirpation of the regal line."'
Since the pecuniary assistance which Dr. Tillotson had
' Birch MS. 4466, British Musenm, Diary of Mr. Sampson, p. 43, Another
contemporary manuscript repeats the same circumstances of the danger and
distress of the ciueen, of which, no doubt, more detailed particulars exist in
private letters, in the unpublished archives of different noble houses.
« Life of Calamy, vol, i, p, 388. ' " Faction Displayed j" state poem.
MARY II. 320
rendered on the memorable experiment in popularity at

Canterbury, king William had marked him for the highest
advancement in the church of England. His majesty con-
sidered that Dr. Tillotson was perfectly willing to receive
this appointment nevertheless, some obstacle, stronger thun

;
the conventional refusal of episcopal promotion, seemed

to deter him. Dr. Tillotson told the king, at last, "that
he was married that there had previously been but one or
;
t\^'0 married archbishops, and never an archbishop's widow;

and as he had no provision wherewith to endow his wife, he
considered, in case of her widowhood, it would be an un-
seemly sight if she left Lambeth to beg alms.'' The king ^
replied, "if that was his objection, the queen would settle
all to his satisfaction, and that of Mrs. TQlotson." Accord-
ingly, after a long interview with queen Mary, Dr. Tillot-
son declared "
he was ready to take the place of archbishop
Bancroft, found it vacant." That
as soon as her majesty
matter, however, promised to be full of difficulty, for San-
croft persisted in his assertion, " that if the queen wanted
Lambeth, she must thrust him out of it." King Vrilliam

left her majesty solus to encounter all the embarrassments of
the archbishop's deprivation and of the new appointment,
as he sailed for Flanders, May 11th, 1691. The queen no-

minated Dr. Tillotson ro the primacy. May 31st, 1691.
She sent a mandate, signed by her own hand, warning
Bancroft to quit Lambeth This he did not
in ten days.
obey. T' e emissaries queen finally expelled him
of the
from his palace, June 23rd; he took a boat at the stairs
the same evening, and crossed the Thames to the Temple,
where he remained in a private house till August, when he

retiied to end his days in his village in Suffolk.'*
There was but one pen in the world capable of calumniat-

ing Bancroft that pen belonged to Burnet. He has accused
:
Tillotson had the apostoUc man of having amply provided for himself from
the revenues of Canterbury; but long before Burnet's books
were printed, ,the circumstances in which Sancroft lived and

died were well known to the world. In truth, the deprived
' Dr. Birch's Life of Tillotson, * Biograpliia Britannica.
t:
330 MARY II.
archbishop went forth from Lambeth, taking no property

but L staff and books : he had distributed all his revenues
in charity, and would have been destitute if he had not

inherited a little estate in Suffolk. To an ancient but lowly
residence, the place of his birth, at Fressingfield, where his
ancestors had dwelt respectably, from father to son, for
three centuries, archbishop Sancroft retired to live on liis

private patrimony of fifty pounds per annum. On this
modicum he subsisted for the remainder of his days, leading
a holy and contented life, venerated by his contemporaries,
but almost adored by the simple country-folk of »SuffoIk for

his personal merits. The use
to which Sancroft put his
savings has been revealed by a biography strictly founded
M I
on documents, the modest voice of which has, in our times,
put to open shame his slanderer. From it we learn, that
Sancroft began to devote his savings, when he was only dean
of St. Paul's, to amplifying some of those miserable livings
which too frequently fall to the lot of the best of the English
clergy. The vicarage of Sandon, in Hertfordshire, was thus
endowed. Seven livings were augmented by this practical
Christian before queen Mary hurled him from his arch-
bishopric: he likewise wrote earnest letters to his rich
clergy, recommending them to " aid their poor brethren's
livings." One glorious light of our church, Isaac BaiTow,
followed the example of his friend. Our church has reason
to bless Sancroft daily, for his self-denial and charitable
exertions set the example to the great 'Bounty of queen
Anne.'
When Dr. Tillotson vacated the deanery of Canterbury
to become primate, William sent the queen, from Holland,
three names, as those from whom he chose the deanery to
Burnet must have known these facts. In his printed history lie accuses
•
him in one page of enriching himself, and on the page opposite he is contemned
for poverty. Any reader who wishes to see documentary prooft of Sancrott's good
works and of Burnet's slander, may turn to Dr. D'Oyley's Life of Sancroft.
The attack on Sancroft for enricliing liimself does not occur in Buraet's ina:iu-
Bcript ; there he only reviles and despises liim for his miserahle poverty. It is
possible that the contradictory statement was introduced by Mackey " the spy,"
his executor. Collate with Harleian MSS. Burnet's Own Times, vol. i. pp. from
lis to 151.
MARY II. 331
be supplied, —thus usurping the ancient functions of the

chapters of old
;
' a fact in utter contradiction to the asser-
tion he permitted his queen to exercise entirely the func-
that
tion head of the church of England. Mary did venture to
of i in-
exercise the limited choice he allowed, so far as to appoint
Dr. Hooper dean of Canterbury. The king supposed that

his enmity to her former almoner was sufficiently known to
his submissive partner ; for it became evident, that although
he had put Hooper's name on the list, it was only to give
that divine the mortification of being rejected by her.
William's rage was extreme when he found that he was

thus taken at his word. One of the queen's ladies, who
had married in Holland, (without doubt, the countess Zule-
stein,) wrote to Mrs. Hooper, "that their royal mistress
would be bitterly chid on her husband's return." Indeed
this, the worthiest appointment made in her reign, cost Mary
many tears " that was too often her case in England,"
:
continues our authority, " but in Holland it was daily so."

When the queen obtained the liberty, as she supposed,
for appointment, she sent for Dr. Hooper, by lord
this
Nottingham, to Whitehall, and forthwith nominated him

to the deanery. He was greatly surprised, and begged to
know Avhich of his livings, Lambeth or Woodhey, she would
be pleased he should resign. " Neither," replied the queen.
But the conscientious Hooper refused to retain pluralities,^
and he laid down Woodhey, worth 300/. per annum, before
he quitted the royal presence. Queen Mary was glad to
give it to another of her chaplains. Dr. Hearn. The queen
The conduct of king William, in this action, presents a most extraordinary
'
nntitbcsis to the ancient functions of the church on the appointment of digni-

taries. The heads of chapters, after sitting in convocation in their chapter-
houses, presented three names to the king, praying him " to name from these
churchmen (either of whom the church considered worthy of the office) the one
most agreeable to his gi-ace." The monarch did so, and forthwith received
liomage for the temporalities. It was not considered courteous of the chapter or
chapters to give the monarch less choice than tliree. Sometimes there were
six; the larger the number, the more subversive was the custom of
faction
deemed. —
Brakelonde's Chronicle of St. Edmund's Bury Camden Society.
:
' Dr. Hooper waa a married man with a family ; his example was
therefore
tlie more admirable.
It must be remembered, that his daughter was the editress
of tuia jounial.
332 MARY II.
required of her old servant to inform her plainly, " why it

was that Tillotson was looked upon as a Socinian?" Dr.
Hooper attributed the report to the great intimacy between
him and Dr. Firming who was often seen at his tabic at
Lambeth. This friendship had begun in their youth, and
was still continued.^
The calamity of fire seemed to pursue king William and
his royal consort. The queen had scarcely welcomed the
kixig on his return to their newly-finished palace of Ken-
sington, when an awful fire broke out there, about seven in
the morning, November 10, 1691 ; it wrapped in flames the
stone gallery and the adjacent apartments. When the roar
of the fire became audible, William, believing a treacherous
attack on his palace was in progress, called loudly for his
sword,^ but soon found that the foe was better quelled by a
bucket of water. The queen likewise apprehended treason.
At last, being convinced the fire was accidental, she descended
with the king, as soon as they were dressed, into the garden,
when they stood for some hours watching their foot-guards
pass buckets of water, until by their activity the confla-
gration was subdued.*
The differences which subsisted between the royal sisters,
Mary and Anne, in the winter of 1691, became more pub-
licly apparent, owing to some awkward diplomacy that tlie
king had set his consort to transact relative to prince George

of Denmark. On his majesty^s departure from England in
the preceding May, the prince had asked permission " to sene
him as a volunteer at sea;" the king gave his brother-in-
law the embrace enjoined by courtly etiquette, but answered
him not a word. George of Denmark took silence for con-
sent, prepared his sea-equipage, and sent all on board the
ship in which he intended to sail; but king WilUam had
left positive orders with queen Mary, " that she was not to
> He was the leader of the Socinians in London. We quote the dialogue, not
because we have a wish to discuss controversial points, but because queen Mary
was one of the speakers.
' Manuscript account of Dr. Hooper. Trevor's William III., vol. p. 472.
i.
» Tmdal's Con. of liai)in, p. 76, from which the above incidents have btcn
* Defoe's Tour through Great Britaui, vol. i. p. 12.

drawn.
;î
MARY 11. 333
suffer prince George to sail fleet ; yet she was not

with the
openly to forbid him Thus the queen had the very
to go.'*
difficult diplomatic task enjoined her by her spouse to im-
pede the intentions of her brother-in-law, making it appear,
at tlie same time, as if he staid by his own choice.
The queen, according to lady Marlborough's account,'

observed her husband's directions exactly : she sent " a very
great lord" to that lady, to desire that she would persuade
tlie princess Anne to hinder prince George from his sea-
expedition. The queen expected her Marlborough) to
(lady
accomplish it without letting her mistress know the reason.
Lady Marlborough replied, " that it was natural for the
princess husband should stay at home, out
to wish that her
of was doubt whether she would prevail
danger, yet there
on him to give up his expedition but that as to herself,
;
slie could not undertake to say any thing to the princess,

I
!
and conceal her reasons for speaking ; yet, if she were per-
mitted to use her majesty's name, she would say whatever
was desired by her."^ But this did not accord with her
majesty's views.
The queen had now entered into a league with Lawrence

Hyde, earl of Rochester, her younger uncle, who had been
prevailed upon, to the indignation of her captive, his elder
brother Clarendon, to take the oaths to her government,^
and become one of her ministers. The earl of Rochester,
who had been the particular object of the revilings of the
princess Anne and her favourite, was at this time sent by
queen Mary to explain her pleasure, "that prince George

of Denmark was to relinquish his intention of going to sea,
which measure was to appear to be his own choice." Prince

George replied to this rather unreasonable intimation, " That
there had been much talk in London respecting his inten-
tion; and as his preparations were very well known, if he
sent for his sea-equipage from on board ship, as the queen
desired, without giving any reason for such caprice, that he
• Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 40.

" Diary of Lord Clarendon.
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 40.

J 4
334 MARY II.
m4- should make a very ridiculous figure in the eyes of every

I :-
one." His representation was undoubtedly true; and it
was as true that the king and queen would not have had
any objeetion to his incurring contempt by his obedience
in the eyes of the English people. The queen, finding that
the prince of Denmark would not submit to the intervention
of her will and pleasure in private, was obliged to send her
lord chamberlain, Nottingham, in form, positively to forbid
his embarkation.* "The queen and princess lived, in ap-
pearance," continues lady Marlborough, " as if nothing liad
happened, all that summer. Yet lord Portland, it was well
known, had ever a great prejudice to my lord Marlborough;
and Elizabeth Villiers, although I had never done her any
wi injury, .xcepting not making my court to her, was my im-
pliicable enemy."'*
The princess Anne, instigated by the restless ambition of
her favourite, had thought fit to demand the order of the
Garter, as a reward due to tlie military merit of lord Marl-
borough in Ireland. The request had been made by letter
to her brother-in-law :
"TUE PEINCE8S AnNE TO KlN(J WiLLIAM.'

" Sib, " Tunbriilgo, Aug. 2, [1691].
*' I hope you will pardon me for giving you this trouble, but I cannot help
seconding the request the prince [George of Denintirk] has now made you (o
remember your promise of a Oarterfor lord Marlhorovgh. You cannot bestow
it upon any one that has been niort> serviceable to you in the late revolution, uor
that has ventured their lives for you as he has done since your coming to tlie
crown ; but if people will not think these merits enough, I cannot believe any
Ixxly will be so unreasonable as to be dissatisfied, when it is known you are
pleased to give It liini on the prince's account and mine. I am sure 1 siiuU evir
look upon it as a mark of your favour to us. I will not trouble you with any
ceremony, because I know you do not care for it.
" Anne."
The queen refused this demand. It has been stated tliat
there was something of contempt in her manner of so
doing, which exasperated the favourites of her sister into
a degree of rage that led them to conspire the downfall of

her husband and herself from the sovereignty. Lord Marl-
borough, in the same year, wrote to his former master,
» Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 41. 2 Ibid.
" Dalrympie's Appeiiuix.
MARY II. 335
James II., declaring "that he could neither sleep nor eat

in peace, for the remembrance of his crimes against him."
He made unbounded offers of his services, and finished by
assuring him, " that he would biing the princess Anne back
to her duty, if he received the least word of encouragement."
Marlborough was then one of the council of nine assisting

in the government. The perils of the queen's position
ffere therefore great. James II., however, did not give
much encouragement to this treason, and drily answered
to Marl))orough "that his good intentions must be proved
by deeds rather than words."

Meantime, the queen's regency was agitated by plots,
which were ramifications of that of lord Preston. She
signed warrants for the arrest of the deprived bishop of
Ely and lord Dartmouth; she likewise molested the de-

prived primate, by sending a commission to his cottage
iu Suffolk to inquire into his proceedings. One of her
messengers could scarcely refrain from tears, when he found
that came to the door to
the venerable archbishop himself
answer hisknock, because his only attendant, an old woman
who took care of his cottage, happened to be ill. The
queen's enmity was exceedingly great to William Penn,
whose name was involved in these machinations; an entire

stop was put to his philanthropic exertions in the colony
of Pennsylvania, and the good quaker was forced to hide

hishead and skulk about London, as he did in the perse-
cution of his sect before the accession of James II. He
wished to have an interview with the queen. " He could," .
he said, "convince h( r of his fidelity to the government,

to which he wished well, because the predominance of
her father's religion must be ultimate destruction to his
own. The personal friendship was warm which he bore

*to James Stuart;' but he loved him as such, and not
as king. He was his benefactor," he said; "he loved
him in his prosperity, and he never could speak against
Macphcrson's Stuart Papers, vol, i.

'
Dalrymple's Appendix. Memoirs of
James 11., vol. ii. Coxe, m his Life of Marlborough, cannot deny this fact, but
fxcuses it on the plea ** that he desired only to deceive king Junies "
'
.5
336 MARY II.
him in his adversity.'" But let liim say what lie would
"William Pcnn was a persecuted man as long as queen
Mary lived.
Queen Mary's government, in the summer of 1091, had
been accompanied by a series of circumstances cilaniitous
enough to daunt the courage of a more experienced ruler.
Disastrous ud bloody battles had been fought in Flanders
and great slaughter of the English troops ensued, witjiout
the satisfaction of victory. Corn was at a famine price-
the country gentry and merchants were sinking under a
i;i.( weight of taxation, such as never had been heard or thou<'lit
of in the British islands. The fleet had returned covered
with disgrace; English seamen were overcome, merely bv
the horrible provisions and worthless ammunition which
the corrupt ministry had provided for their use. All these
tremendous difficulties had the queen to surmount, but
her correspondence isnot available for the history of this
summer. It is known that she sojourned in her palace
without a friend, — nay, without an object of affection.
She had no affections except for her husband,

and he was
absent, exposed to a thousand dangers. She had no female
friend among her numerous ladies, for in her voluminous
correspondence which has been opened to the reader, where
she has entered into the feelings of her own heart with
minute and skilful anatomy, she has never mentioned one
person as a friend. Indeed, her panegyrist, Burnet, in his
curious manuscript narrative, observes, in the enumeration
of her other -"valuable qualities," that the queen never
had a female friend. Her majesty certainly was, in 1691,
in the most utter loneliness of heart. She was on ill terms
with queen Catharine, and the cold, distant communica-
tion of mere state audiences which took place between
herself and her sister, the princess Anne, was ready to
break out, from the quietude of aversion to the active war-
fare of hatred that soon ensued.
The queen wrote to lady Russell,'* in reply to an applica-
• This expression is in his letters in the Pepys' Collections.

a Bibl. Birch. 4163: Plut. cvi. D, p. 42. Dated 1691, JiUy 30.
—
MARY II. 337
Ui'it lie would, tion of that lady for the disposal of the auditorship of
oiig as queen Wales, worth 400/. per annum, for Mr. Vaughan, lier son;
on this head, queen Mary observed,
"I urn Huro th.it tho kiiij^ will Ihj iw willing? to plwiso y<m aa mj'Hulf. You
ore very imu-h in tho rij^lit to Iwlievo I hiivis ciiumh t'lioii^^h to think this lifo
not HO fluii u thiii}^ iw, it miiy 1h', otluTS do, tlmt 1 load at prcHent. Hesidt'B
the pain 1 am it iH ho (>ontmry to iny own
ulinoHt continimlly in for thu king,
int'limition, can Iw neither happy nor pleiiHant j but I see ono is not ever
that it
to live tor one's self, I have had many years of ease and content, and wan not
w sensihle of my own Imppinesa as I ought ; hut I must )>e content with what
it pK'iwes Ood, and this year 1 have had g(K)d reiwon to praise him iiitherto for
till'sucri'SHcs in Ireland,' the news of which came so (piick upon ojie another,
that made me fear we had some ill to oxjK'ct from other places. Hut I trust in
Owl tlmt will not be, though it looks as if we nuist look lor little g(jod either
from Flanders or sea. The king Ik; praised, very well; and
contiinies, 0(m1
though I tremble at the thoughts of it, yet I cannot but wish a battle were
over, — I wish it as heartily as Mr. Russell himself."
While the fleets of England and France were threatening

each other, the Jacobites were active. On the '^ther hand^
those persons whose prosperity depended on th( permanence
of the Revolution, indefatigably infused in th '
queen's mind
suspicions of all who wore not their "''^nds. Thus nsti-
gated, the queen sent for Dr. day to chide him Hooper on(
for his undutiful conduct to archbishop Tillotson. " I have
been told," she said, " that you never wait on him ; neither
does Mrs. Hooper visit Mrs. Tillotson, as she ought to do."
Dr. Hooper proved to the queen " that he had paid all the
respect, and so had his wife, at Lambeth-palace that was
proper, without proving intrusive." The queen smiled, and

said "she did not believe the report was true when she
heard it." The mischief-maker who had approached the

ear of majesty then ventured somewhat further, and subse-
quently informed queen Mr hat, of all places in the world,x

>• i
the apostolic Hooper had been figuring at a great cock-
match at Bath, which it was supposed was a general muster

for the Jacobite gentry of the west of England. Dr.
Hooper, being questioned on this matter by queen Mary,
replied, very quietly, " that it was true he had been at Bath
some months that year, on account of the disastrous health

of his wife, who was all the time in danger of her life."
The queen graciously interrupted him to ask, " How Mrs.

' Surreuder of Limerick, and subsequently of the '.vhole island.
VOL. VII. Z
338 MARY II.
Hooper was then?" When dean Hooper had replied, lie

resumed the discussion, affirming " that he had never heard
a tittle of the cock-match at Bath, or of the meeting of the
Jacobite gentlemen there."
f -7: :
! The queen then informed him of some minor malicious

reports; among others, an accusation that he always tra-
velled on the Sabbath. " It is true," replied Dr. Hooper,
" that I am often on the road on the Sabbath, but it is in
the pursuance of my clerical duty. I travel with my wife
journeys of several days to Bath. I always rest the whole
Sunday, and attend both services, — easily ascertained, as I
usually preach for the minister where I tarry." The queen

then told him, in a very gracious manner, " that she had
never believed what he was accused of^ but she would always
lethim know his faults, or rather, what he was accused of."
Her majesty concluded by " letting him know " that her in-
I ii;-' former was Dr. Burnet, bishop of SaUsbury.' Burnet was

noted for his propensity to scandalous gossip, in the promul-
gation of which he little heeded the conventional decencies
of time and place ; as, for instance, lord Jersey, the brother
of Elizabeth Villiers, told lord Dartmouth^ that he had
heard bishop Burnet scandalize the duchess of York before
her daughter, queen Mary, and a great deal of company,
according to the well-known passage of slander printed in
his history, —with this difference, that when speaking, he
did not conceal the name of the person with Avhom he
affirmed she was in love this was Henry Sidney, created
:
by William Romney, and given an enormous

III. earl of
grant of 17,000Z. per annum. If lord Jersey could hear
Burnet hold forth on this subject, the queen could do the
same, as that noble was one of her household, whose duties
placed him near her chair.
King William arrived safely at Kensington,- October the
13tli. The queen was for a time relieved from the heavy
» Hooper MS., in Trevor's William III., p. 473.
« Notes to Burnet, vol. 394 j note and text. In the latter, Burnet
i. p.
expressly declares that Anne Hyde, duchess of York, induced her husband t'
become u Roman-catholic at the time when he received the sacrament according
to the ritual of the church of England.
MARY II. 339
weigtt of the regnal sceptre, but she had to endure the

bitterest reproaches, because she had purposely miscon-
straed his intention by the promotion of Dr. Hooper to the
deanery of Canterbury.
Not even in the most important crisis that occurred when
the nation was under her guidance for the two previous years,
was queen Mary ever permitted to meet her peers and com-
moners assembled in parliament, for the purpose of convening
I
them or dismissing them. Her husband opened parliament
i
after his return from Flanders, October 23, 1691, and, in
his robes and crown, made a speech on the final reduction 'A
of Ireland, in the course of which he never once mentioned

Ms wife. The king's neglect, whether proceeding from for-
getfiilness, ingratitude, or jealousy, was quickly repaired by i
parliament; for ou the 27th of the same month, the lords
and commons almost simultaneously moved " that addresses
be presented to her majesty at WhitehaU,' giving her thanks
for her prudent care in the administration of the govern-
ment in his majesty's absence.'' The new archbishop of
Canterbury, Dr. Tillotson, was requested by the lords to
draw up their address, which was thus worded :
" We, your majesty's most dutiful and loyal subjects, the lords spiritual and
temporal in parliament assembled, from a true sense of the quiet and happiness
the nation hath enjoyed in your majesty's administration of government in the
king's absence, do hold ourselves obliged to present our most humble aclcnow-
ledgments to your majesty for your prudent conduct therein, to the universal
satisfaction as well as the security of the kingdom."
The house of lords also requested lord VilUers (newly raised

to the peerage as viscount, and then lord chamberlain to the
queen) " to attend her majesty presently, to know what time
her majesty wiU appoint for this house to attend her with
the After some delay, lord Villiers acquainted
address."
the " that he had attended her majesty as com-
house
manded, whp hath appointed three o' the clock this Friday
afternoon for the house to attend her with the address,
in drawing-room at Whitehall." This room must have
the
been the withdrawing-room adjoining the well-known Ban-
queting-hall at Whitehall, which had been spared by the
' MS. Journals of the House of Lords, from the library of E. C. Davey, esq.
z 2
340 MAEY IT.
flames that had recently devastated nearly the whole of the

palace.
The king had obtained some information on the subject
of MarlborougVs correspondence with James II. He attri-
buted to his treacherous betrayal the failure of an attack
made on Brest by the English fleet in the preceding sum-
mer.' " Upon my honour/' replied Marlborough, " I never
mentioned it but in confidence to my wife." "I never —
mention any thing in confidence to mine," was the reply of
king William. The cynical spirit of this answer bears some
analogy to the temper of king William, yet the utter impos-
sibility of the assertion, to one who knew that Mary held the
reins of government on the most confidential terms with her
husband, makes it doubtful that the king ever made use of
any such words. The anecdote is widely known, but it is
founded on nothing but hearsay and tradition. It seems to
have been invented by Mailborough to account, in an off-
hand way, to the world that this serious treachery had
accidentally slipped out in a gossip-letter from lady Marl-
borough to her sister, lady Tyrconnel, who was with the
royal exiles at the court of St. Germains; for how could
king William say to one of the council of nine that he never
told any thing confidentially to the queen, when her letters
give full proof that the most important matters were expe-
dited by her? William could make repartees which were
not only rude, but brutal, to the queen; neither was his
truth unsullied; yet he possessed considerable shrewdness,
and was a man of few words. Such characters seldom make
remarks which are at once absurd and self-contradictory.
Whatsoever might have been the real version of this angry
dialogue, it led to the result that Marlborough took the step
he had hinted to James II., and under his influence, and
that of his wife, the princess Anne was induced to pen a
penitential epistle to her father.'^ It was in these terms :—
' There were two attacks on Brest in this reign, both abortive ; the one hero
mentioned, in wlxich there was a great slaughter of the English, and another in
1694, when general ToUemache was killed. There is documentary evidence that
—
Marlborough betrayed the last. Dalrymple's History.
' James II.'s Memoirs, edited by J. S. Glarkj 1691= Likewiae Macpherson's
Hiatory, vol. ii. p. 609, for the letter.
M
MARY II. 341
" Dec. ^, 1691.

" have been very desirous of some safe opportunity to make you a sincere
I
and humble offer of my duty and submission to you, and to beg you will be
assured that I am both truly concerned for the misfortime of your condition, and
sensible, as I ought to be, of my own unhappiness. As to what you may think
I have contributed to it, if wishes could recall what is past, I had long since
rwlecmed my fault. I am sensible it would have been a great relief to me if I

could have found means to have acquainted you earlier with my repentant
thoughts, but I hope they may find the advantage of coming late, —
of being less
suspected of insincerity than perhaps they would have been at any time before.
It will be a great addition to the ease I propose to my own mind by this plain
confession, if Iam so happy as to find that it brings any real satisfaction to

yours, and that you are as indulgent and easy to receive my humble submissions
as 1 am to make them, in a free, disinterested acknowledgment of my fault, for
no other end but to deserve and receive your pardon.

" I have had a great mind to beg you to make one compliment for me ; but
fearing the expressions which would be properest for me to make use of might
be, perhaps, the least convenient for a letter, I must content myself, at present,
with hoping the bearer will make a compliment for me to the queen."
Now the bearer in whose hands this letter was deposited for
conveyance, (as some say, by the princess Anne herself,)
was the last person likely to fetch and carry with suitable
grace the affected verbal trash called compliments by the
fine ladies of that day. He was a bluff and stout Welch-

man, captain Davy Lloyd, one of James II.'s veteran sea-
commanders. Davy held the daughters of his old master
in utmost contempt, which he did not scruple to express,
the
at tiroes, without any very refined choice of epithets.
Both queen Mary and king William were soon apprized

th£ffc some such epistle was compounded, long before it
reached the hands of James II. Lady Fitzharding, it has
been noted, was the spy' of her sister Elizabeth Vllliers, in
the family of the princess Anne ; and by her agvuey^ king
William knew accurately, within a very few hours, ail that
passed at the Cockpit. The princess Anne rather encou-
raged than suppressed the daring imprudence of her favourite
lady Marlborough, and they would vituperate the reigning
monarch with the most virulent terms of abuse.'* Thus all
the elements of discord were ready for violent explosion,
which actually took place on the evening of January 9,
1691-2, when a personal altercation ensued between the
' This fiict is pointed out by Coxc, in his Life of Marlborough, voL i= p. 48.
ewiae Maculiersou's
2 Ibid.
m y.:.
t t
11 342 MARY II.
queen and the princess Anne.' There is no doubt but that

Anne*8 partiality for the Marlboroughs was the subject of
dispute. No particulars, however, transpired, exsepting
what may be gleaned from subsequent letters of the princess
I'lr.' I'
Anne to lady Marlborough. From these it appears that the

queen threatened to deprive her sister of half her income.
Ml The princess Anne well knew that parliament having secured
to her the whole, such threats were vain, since, if the wishes
of her sister and her spouse had been consulted, she would
have been in possession of neither half of the 50,000/. per
annum allowed her by her country. The princess Anne
had just received her payment of this allowance, and had
settled on the Marlboroughs an annuity from it of 1000/./
circumstances which had probably added to the exaspera-
tion of the queen, who considered that the whole of that sum
was torn from the ways and means of her husband to carry
on the war.
The next morning, it was the turn of lord Marlborough
to fulfil his duties as one of the lords of the bedchamber to
king William, who secretly resolved to expel him from his
service, and to make the manner of his doing it very dis-
agreeable to him. Marlborough commenced his waiting-
week without the least remark being made; but after he
had put on the king's shirt and done his duty for the
morning, lord Nottingham was sent to him with an abrupt
message, " that the king had no further wish for his ser-
vices, and that he was commanded to sell or dispose of
all his employments." Every one was immediately busied
in guessing his crime ; it was, however, generally supposed
to be making mischief between the princess and the king
and queen. The kinpr and queen further desired "that he,
lord Marlborough, >> uuld absent himself from their presence
for the future."^ ,
The anguish that the princess Anne manifested at this
disgrace of her favourite's husband was excessive: she

' The date of Coxe ib here followed.
* Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough.
' Letter of lord Basil Hamilton tu ius iuIuct, the duke of Ilamiltcn.
MARY II. 343
greatly exasperated the king and queen by her tearful eyes

and sad countenance when she visited them. The princess's
anticipations of still harsher measures probably led to her
depression of spirits, since she received an anonymous letter
before the end of January, which warned her that the next
step taken by the government would be the imprisonment
of Marlborough. The letter likewise gave her a really
lord
salutary warning respecting the treachery of lady Fitzhar-
ding, and that " all the tears she had shed, and the words
she had spoken on the subject of lord Marlborough's dis-
grace, had been botrayed to the king" by that household
spy. It must excite great surprise in those to whom the

under-currents of events are unknown, to think what could
impel king William to utterly cashier a person who had
been so useful to him in the revolution as lord Marlborough

however, Evelyn, a contemporary, discusses the point plainly
enough, in these words :^ "Lord Marlborough, lieutenant-
general, gentleman of the bedchamber, dismissed from all
Ids employments, military and other, for his faults in exces-
sive taking of bribes, covetousness, and extortion, on all

occasions, from his inferior officers." These charges were
disgraceftil enough to induce confusion of countenance in
any near connexion of the delinquent ; but the practice of

robbing the public had become so common, that it was
seldom charged against any one who had not been concerned
in schemes generally considered more dangerously inimical
to the government.
Neither king William nor his consort dared openly accuse
the Marlboroughs of having al-^tted the princess Anne in
a king ; they well knew that
reconciliation with the exiled
such an avowal would have led a third of their subjects to
follow their example. The silence of the king and queen

(at least in regard to the public) on the real delinquencies
at the Cockpit, embold( ned lady Marlborough sufficiently

to accompany her mistreis^ to court on th* 3xt reception- •
day at Kensington, about three weeks after ihe disgruce of
her husband. On the morrow queen Mary forbad tl repeti- •
- Evelîi's Diary, Juuuary 24, 1891-2.

i^-Vm tr
<":?
ini 344 MARY II.
tion of lady Marlborough's intrusion, in the following letter

to the princess Anne :
^
"Queen Maet to the Princess Akne.'

" Kensington, Friday, 5th of Feb,
" Having something tii iay tii you whi.)) 1 1 row will not be very pleasing, I
choose rather to write it flrst, kiisj unwilang k: surprise you, though I tliink
what I am going to tell jon slx' .li not, it" you ^fiv yourself time to think, that
never any body wns suifereii to Wve <vt coavt in 1/T(\ 'Twlborough's circumstances.
J need not repea' the ca " he. A.r ijivir). he ki i;, o lo !'h,at he has done, nor
his u,;,wiWi<.gness 'it all timci to come to extrem!ti<>.8, though people do deserve
it:'
In th<s Irrk hint is embodied all the information the queen

chose to i^ve her sister regardrnj^ the cause of the disgrace
of her ST'iter'^ favourites and giiUês. The passage, written
with extreme ca'.tion, \va.« v "oparod thus, to guard against
the political iaiscliicf which nught ]>e done by the princess
Anne and her audacious ruler, from making the queen's
remonstrance public among their party. At the
letter of
same time it is manifest, that previous remonstrance and
explanation on the offences of the princess and the Marl-
boroughs had bciui resorted to by her majesty. "What these
offences and injuries were, the preceding pages of this
biography fully explain. This section of the queen's letter
is an instance of tlie sagacity for which she was famed.
The whole is written with moderation, when the provocation

is considered, and the fearful dangers with which the throne
of Mary and her beloved husband was surrounded in 1693,

dangers which the correspondence of Anne and her coad-
jutors with her exiled father greatly aggravated. Queen
Mary continues,
" I hope you do me the justice to believe it is much agaiiiat my will that I
now tell you that, after this, it is very imfit that lady Marllx)rough should stay
with you, since that give^ her husband so just a pretence of being where he
should not. I think i might have expected you shoidd have spoke to nic of it
and the king and I, both believing it, made us stay thus long. But seeing you
was so far from it that you brought lady Marlborough hither List night, makes
us resolvo to put it off no longer, but tell you she mnst not staif, and that I have
all the reason imaginable to look upon your bringing her as tlio strun>r»'st thini^
that ever was done. Y
could all my kindness for you, (wliich is :.\\:-yi iva'!;
'
to tiu-n all, you do tl >l tvay,) at any other tinir have hiri jcd me from !•
> Conduct of the '

. is of Marlborough, p. 44. We ha-o vainly seartlid
for the origi
..
' "f '
^c letters, being unwilling to take lady Mtu-lborough's
ven»ioii.
w%
MARY II. 345
following letter showing you so that moment, but I considered your condition, and that made
me master myself so far as not to take notice of it then."
Contrary to her usual style^ in this letter the sentences

of the queen are not constructed logically in all their bear-
ings ; her reiterated " it " seems to mean, that she and king
William expected the princess Anne to propose to them the
dismissal of lady Marlborough, on accouiit of the disgrace of
that person's husband, instead of bringing her into their
evening drawing-room as coolly as if nothing had happened.
ation the queen Notwithstanding her folly in thus conducting herself, the
situation of the princess Anne
required consideration and
forbearance, for she was, in February 1691-2, within a few
weeks of her confinement, and her health at such times was
always precarious. The queen's excessive self-praises of her
own kindness to her sister are remarkable enough ; they are
founded on the fact that, in consideration "for her condi-

tion," she did not reprove the princess publicly, and expel
the intruder she brought with her, as her majesty thought
they deserved.
" But now I must tell you," resumes queen Mary, " it was very unkind in a
sister, would have been very uncivil in an equal j and I need not say I have more
to claim, which, though my kindness would never make me exact, yet, when I
see the use you would make of it, I must tell you I know what is due to me, and
expect to have it from you. 'Tis upon that account I tell you plainly, lady Marl-
borough must not continue with you, in the circumstances her lord is.
" I know this will be uneasy to you, and I am sorry for it, for I have all the
real kindness imaginable for you ; and as I ever have, so wiU always do my part
to live with you as sisters ought j that is, not only like so near relations, but like
friends, and as such I did think to write to you. For I would have made myself
believe your kindness for her [lady Marlborough] made you at first forget what
you should have for the king and me, and resolved to put you in mind of it my-
self, neither of us being willing to come to harsher ways ; but the sight of lady
Marlborough having changed my thoughts, does naturally alter my style. And

since by that I see how little you seem to consider what, even in common civility,
ynu owe us, I have told it you plaiidy, but, withal, assure you that, let me have
never so much reason to take any thing ill of you, my kindness is so great that
I can pass over most things, and live with you as becomes [us]. And I desire to
do so merely from that motive, for I do love you as my sister, and nothing but
yourself can make me do otherwise j and that is the reason I choose to write this
>'.t!ier than tell it tc you, that you may overcome your first thoughts. And when
you hav'! well considered, you wiU find that, though the thing be hard, (wliich I
iigiii;. assure you I am sorry for,) yet it is not unreasonable, but what has ever
1.01 practised, and what yourself woidd do were you [queen] in my place.
" 1 will end his with once more desiring you to consider the matter imparti-
*
ally, <ind takei ime for it. I do not desire an answer presently, because I would
3ot have you give a rasU oiie. shall come to your dra^ving-room to-morrow
346 MARY II.
before you play, Iwcausc you know why I cannot make one' At some otlicr
time we shall reason the business calmly, which I will willingly do, or any thing
else that may show it shall never be my fault if we do not live kindly together.
Nor will I ever be other, by choice, tlian
" Your truly loving and affectionate sister,
*•
M. R."
Lady Marlborough published queen Mary's letter, but
sedulously hid the provocation which elicited both tliut and
the command contained therein. In her narrative of the
events of this era, she carefully conceals the spring that
caused them, which was, the treacherous correspondence of
her husband with the court of St. Germains, and the letter
he had prompted the princess Anne to write to her father.
W ;•
Historical truth can only be found in contemporary docu-

ments and narratives, yet not in one alone many must he ;
compared and collated, before the mists in which selfish

interests seek to envelope facts can be dispelled. Lady
Marlborough devotes most enthusiastic
several pages to the
praises of herself j her disinterestedness and devotion to the
princess Anne are lauded to the skies. When in the list of
her virtues she discusses her honesty, she thus expresses

herself: "As to the present power the princess Anne had
to enrich me, her revenue was no such vast thing, as that I
could propose to draw any mighty matters from thence;

and besides, sirBenjamin Bathurst had the management of
it. I had no share in that service."^ Yet 50,000/. per
annum is a large revenue even in these times, and in the
early days of the nati. nal debt it bore a much higher coin-
parative value.
The princess Anne, after she had read her sister's letter,
summoned her uncle Rochester to her assistance. That

nobleman, from a thorough appreciation of the turbulence
and treachery which were united in the character of lady
Marlborough, had, in her outset of life, strongly advised
James II. to exclude her from the household of his daughter
Anne;^ but the indulgence of the father yielded to the sup-
plications of his child. When lord Rochester came to the
'
This was because the queen tlid not choose to sit down to the basset-t''')lc
with lady Marlborough.

jjiaaaKBua
- 54.
Cuiiduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 5^ 3 Rnlnh's Kit., i v
MARY IT. 347
Cockpit, at the entreaty of the princess Anne, she put in his

'c kiiully together.
hand the following letter. was evidently the production
It
of a consultation with the favourite, since it is by no means
in the style of the princess herself. !'(
ii
"tub Pbincess Anne to Queen Maby.' y 1
"
Your majesty was in the right to think that your letter would be very
suriirisingto me ; for you must needs be sensible enough of the kindness I have
for my lady Marlborough, to know that a command from yox' to part fi-om her
must Ikj the greatest mortification in the world to me, and, indeed, of such a
nature, as I might well have hojied your kindness to me would have always j)re-
vcnted. I am satisfied she cannot hi ve been guilty of imy fault to you, and it
would be extremely to her advantage if I could here repeat every word that ever
Bhe had said to me of you in her whole life. I confess it is no small addition to
my trouble to find the want of your majesty's kindness to me on this occasion,
since I am sure I have always endeavoured to deserve it by all the actions of
my life. \ Ii!
" Your caro of my present extremely obliging, and if you could be

condition is
pleased to add to it so far as, uiwn my account, to recall your severe command,
(as I must beg leave to call it in a manner so tender to me, and so little reason-
able, as I think, to be imposed on me, that you would scarce require it from the
meanest of your subjects,) I should ever acknowletlge it as a very agreeable mark

of your kindness to me. And as I must freely own, that as 1 think this pro-
ceeding can be for no other intent than to give me a very sensible mortification, so
there is no misery that I cannot readily resolve to suffer rather than the thoughta
of parting with her, [lady Marlborough].

" If, after all this that I have said, I must still find myself so unhappy as to
oe pressed on this matter, yet your majesty may m
assured that, as my past
actions have given the greatest testimony of my respect both for the king and
you, so it shall always be my endeavour, wherever I am, tn '•oserve it carefiilly

for the time to come as becomes
" Your majesty's very affectionate Sijce^ ;aid servant,

" From the Coc-kpit, Feb. 6th, 1692." " Anne.
Itmay be worthy of observation, that the date of tîs epistle

is on the birthday of Anne. When lord Rochester had
perused this letter, the princess Anne requested that he
would be the bearer of it from her to her majesty, to which
the uncle put a positive negative. He had hoped, that the
end of the controversy between his r< -^"l nieces would have
been the removal of such a fosterer c mfe as lady Marl-
borough had proved herself to be since she had arrived at
woman's estate, and he would not carry a letter which for-
bad that hope. He then withdrew from the conference,
declaring his intention of mediating in all measures which
led to reconciliation which was, by strenuously advising
J
n A..~k. ~|ffi,„ -n. „i.

I » ê -Mr —-^..~u -~ ee r.H
11
\JVU\X\X\j\i UA MUXj AÛVXICOD Ul .iU.CUliA/lVU^ll, p^. Ul/"n/f •
848 MARY II.
the queen to send lady Marlborough at once from the

Cockpit to her house at St. Albans. Meantime, after the
princess or her favourite had concocted the letter quoted
above, it was copied and sent to her majesty that day, by
-he hands of one of the servants of the princess. Queen
Mary returned as answer a mere official message, carried to
the Cockpit by her lord chamberlain Nottingham, warning
lord and lady Marlborough to abide no longer at the palace
of Whitehall,' a measure which was the first step her ma-
jesty *- y ^n the advice of lord Rochester.
The Anne
considered that her sister had no more
princess
right to what servants she should retain in her
dictate
residence of the Cockpit, than in any uther private house,
since it had been purchased for her by their uncle Charles
II. after it had been alienated from the rest of the palace
of Whitehall, in common with many other buildings appcr-
taining to that part of the vast edifice which abutted on
St. James's-park. But the Cockpit, the Holbein-gateway,
and the adjoining Banqueting-house were, at that period,
all that were left of the once-extensivr palace. When the
queen's message of expulsion from the Ctn kpit was delivf rod
to lady Marlborough, the princess Anne v k the resolution

of withdrawing from it at the same time, and announced her
intention to her sister in the following epistk
"THE Princess .\nne to Queen Mart.'

" very sorry to find, that all I have said myself, a)id my lord
I am hcHter ,
for mo, has not had effect enough to keep your majesty from persisniif:^ in a
resolution, whicli you are satisfied must he so great a mortification to im' as, to
avoid it, I shall ne obliged to retu'e, and deprive myself of the satisfaction of
living where I miglit have frequent opportunities of assuring you of that duty and
respect which I always have been, and shall be desirous to pay you, uiwn all
occa vMiB.
" My only consolation in this extremity is, that not having done any thing in
all my V^- to deser/c youx unkindness, 1 hope I shall notbe long under the
neoeiM'i : of absenting myself from you, the thought of which is so uneasy to me,
hat I fi d myself too much indisposed to give your majesty any further trouble
this me.
"Fi-uaryS, 1692."
" Coxe's Life of Marlborough, vol. i. p. 48, and Ralph's " Other Side of tlie
Question."
» Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 58,
d
MARY II 349
Tlie accoudiement of the princess rendered

appr( ling
all harshhoss to her odious in the eyes of every one. One

of the royal palaces liad usually been appointed for her
retirement at such times, ])ut as the queen had thought

proper to expel her favourite friend from her own private
residence, the princess affected to consider that she should
be too much at the royal mercy, if her accouchement took
place either at St. James's-palace or Hampton- Court. It
was the policy of the party of the princess Anne to give her,
as much as possible, the semblance of injured distress, and
the appearance of being hunted out of house ;wid home at
a period dangerous to her health, and even to her life.
There can be no doubt that the mistress of 50,000/. per

annum need not have been obliged to sue for the charitable
grant of a home to abide in during the period of her ac-
coucheui at j yet, a few hours before leaving the Cockpit,

the princess Anne sent a request to the duchess of Somerset,
to lend her Sion-house for her residence during the ensuing
summer. This lady was the wife of a kinsman of the prin-
cess, commonly calleil the proud duke of Somerset;* she was
the heiress of the great Percy inheritance, and as such, the
possessor of the ancient historical palace of Sion.
William III., whose activity in petty instances of annoy-
ance is singularly at variance with his received character for
magnanimity, immediately sent to the duke of Somerset, m
and, endeavoured to induce him
in a conference with him,
to put a negative on the request of the princess Anne.^
But such mighty English nobles as Somerset and his eon-
sort, the Percy-heiress, soon proved to the foreign monarch
how independent they were of any such influence. The
li
duchess of Somerset forthwith sent an affectionate message
to the princess Anne, declaring " tliat Sion-house was en-
tirely at her service." Before the princess left her residence

of the Cockpit for Sion-house, she thought proper to attend
tl drawing-room of their majesties at Kensington-palace,

' He was the representative of Katharine Gray, and of course a prince of the
English blood-royal from the younger sister of Henry VIII.
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 59.
jtlff
If**
350 MARY II.
It I
In this interview, accordii.Y to the pliraseology of the Marl-

borough, the princess Anne made her majesty " all the
professions imaginable, to whic!i tlie queen remained as
iusensildc as a statue."
The massacre of Glennoo' occurred February It, 1G92.
It is but justice toqueen Mary to observe, that this atrocity
did not disgrace the period wlien she swayed the regnal
sceptre ; neither is her signature appended to the detestable
warrant perpetrated by her husband, which authorized the
slaughter, in cold blood, of upwards of a hundred men,
Ir',
I
women, and little children, of her subjects. The circum-
stances have been of late years too often narrated to need
relating here; but, as the wickedness was committed in a
reign in which a woman's name is partly responsible, it is
desirable, by the production of the documents, to show that
the iniquity was wholly devised, as well as executed, by
men." \
An historian' especially partial to the character of Wil-

liam III., considers as a great grievance the inquiry into
the massacre of Glencoe, and with much naivete observes,

It may be a point of curiosity to learn what James II. thought of tliis
'
of his faithM subjocts.

BJicrifico After observing tliat he had been careful to
preserve the lives of his Scottish friends, by candidly acknowledgiiif^ to tliuiii
tliat he had no funds to aid them, and earnestly advising their submission ns
early as August 1691, ho continues, " They accordingly made their submission.
But contrary to all faith, by an order that Nero himself would have luul a
horror of, the prince of Orange ordered the soldiers to massacre the Glencoe
people in cold blood. It waa hard to imagine that the prince of Orange could
apprehend danger from such a handhd of men; but ho either thouglit tlrnt
severity necessary to make an example of, or he had a particuLir pique against
that clan. Either of these reasons, according to his morality, was sufficient to
do an uihuman thing. Yet this was the pretended assertor of the lives and
liberties of the British nation, to whom all oaths were to bo made a sacrifice of,
rather than he should not reign over it." —
Autograph Memoirs of king James,
Macpherson's Stuart Papers, vol. i. p. 239.
* A document nearly similar, signed by William III., is carefiiUy preserved by
the present lord Lovat, authorizing the extermination of the clan Frnser. Tlie
conduct of Simon Frajser had, it is true, been intolerably wicked ; but that was
no fault of the women and children of his district, which likewise comprised the
feudal sovereignty of 1000 men capable of bearing arms, of whom many must
have been perfectly innocent of wrong.-See Mrs. Thomson's Lives of the
Jacobites. These attempts at extermination had for precedents the massacre of
St. Bartholomew's-day, the wars in Ireland in the time of Elizabeth, and the
conduct of the Spiiniards to the Caribs.
• Cunningham.
MARY II. 851
that the said inquiry was " remarkably troublesome to

many respectable people." The Scotch parliament pro-
nounced it " a barbarously murderous transaction." After
this opinion, the
" respectable people " concerned in it put
a stop to the further trouble this decision might have given.
ry 11, 1692.
this atrocity them, by producing the following warrant :
I the regnal
" William, R.'
" As for the M'Donalds of Oloncoo, if they can well \w distingiilshcd from tl»e
lie detestiiblc
rest of the Highlanders, it will bo projier, for the viiidicution of public juHticc,
iithorized the to extirpate that set of thieves.
" W. R."
lundrcd men,
The circum- This extermination, which was extended in intention to the
rated to need Frfiscrs, and other clans in the highlands, must have ori-
[nmitted in a ginated in the mind of William himself, as is evident by
pousible, it is
the wording of the warrant. A Scotchman would have
,
to sliow that spokcu with more certainty of the localities of his country;
executed, by at same time, it is improbable that any English minister

the
\
suggested an extirpation, because even the execution of
military law in England was always regarded with horror.'*
acter of "VVil-
inquiry into Perhaps the open quarrels which then agitated the royal
3
observes, family prevented public attention from dwelling on the atro-

\vete
I. thought of this cities perpetrated by the king's warrant in the north.
lad been cureful to The princess Anne withdrew to Sion about the beginning
jwlcdgiiig to tk'in
of March, taking with her lady Marlborough, on whom she
heir submission as
J their submission, ' Lord Stair proved, that when William IIL's signature was doubly affixed,
would have hiul a
as in tliis warrant, the execution was to be prompt and urgent.
ssEU're the Oleni-oe
'^
Sir John Dalrymple's History and Appendix. Camplxjll of Glenlyon was
:e of Orange could
the mere executioner. The following letter will show that tlie Dutch monarch's
ther thouglit that
agent directed, from his master, that the children of Macdonald of Glencoe were
euhvr pique against
to be murdered :
,
was sufficient to
" For their Mjijesties' service. To Capt. Campbell.
of the lives and
" Sib, " Ballacholis, Feb. 12, 1692.
made a sacrifice of,
"
You arc hereby ordered to fall upon the rebels, the Macdonalds of Glencoe,
)ir8 of kuig James.
and put all to the sword under seventy. You are to have especial care that the
efully preserved by
old fox and his cubs do not escape your hands. You are to secure all tho
clan Fraser. Tlie avenues, that no man escape. This you are to put into execution at five in tho J
but that was morning precisely, and by that hour I'll strive and be at you with a stronger
iked ;
wise comprised tlie party. This is by the kitig's especial commission, for the good of the country,
that these miscreants may be cut off root and branch. See these be put in
whom many must
ion's Lives of the execution without fear, else you may he expected to he treated as not true to
nts the massacre of
the king's government, nor as a man fit to carry a commission in king William's
Elizabeth, and the
service, Exiwcting you will not fail in the Mtilling, as you love yourself, I
subscribe those with my hand.
•' „„ _ „
"ROBEET DUNCANSON."
353 MARY II.
lavished more affection than ever. As an instance of ill.

will,king William gave orders that his sister-in-law should
be deprived of the guards by whom she had been attended
since her father had given her an independent establish-
ment. The princess lost her guards just as she had the
most need of them, for the roads all round the metropolis
swarmed with highwaymen; her carriage was stopped, aud
she was robbed, between Brentford and Sion, soon after her
establishment there. The adventure was made the subject
af many lampoons, and great odium was thrown on the king
and queen, on account of the danger to which the heiress-
':i I presumptive was exposed through their harshness. The act
pis.:
of depriving the princess Anne of the usual adjuncts of her
rank, was a parting blow before her persecutor left England
for his usual Flemish campaign. The king resigned the
sole government, for a third time, into the hands of his
queen, and bade her farewell on the 5th of March. He
saUed vnth. a wind so favourable, that he reached the Hague
on the succeeding day, and from thence went to Loo.'
To illustrate the narrative of these royal quarrels, the
reader must be given an insight of Burnet's genuine opi-
nion on this subject, written in his own hand.^ It will be

allowed to be a great historical curiosity; his opinions must
raise a smile, when it is remembered how closely and ap-
provingly intimate he and the duchess of Marlborough
were in after life :
— " About the end of the session in
parliament, the king called for Marlborough's commissions,
and dismissed him out of his service. The king [Wil-
liam] said to myselfupon it, 'He had very good reason
to believe that Marlborough had made his peace with
king James, and was engaged in a correspondence Mith
France. It was certain he was doing all he coiUd to set
• M. de Dangeau writes in his Journal, March 15, 1692, that his news fiom
England announced, " that when the princess of Denmark quitted the court,
her husband followeil her ; that William took all the guards irom them, and
forluule them the honours of the court they had been accustomed to receive;
and that William, after this exploit, went to Holland on the 24th of March."
* Harleian MS. The hand is precisely the same with the autugriiph papers
relative to Burnet's ministry at the death of William lord Russell, in possession
of his grace the duL:e of Devonshire.
MARY II. 353
on a faction in the army and nation against the Dutch and

to lessen the king, as well as his wife, who was so absolute
a favourite with the princess, [Anne,] thav she seemed to be
the and thoughts, which were alienated
mistress of her heart
both from the king and queen. The queen had taken all
possible methods to gain her sister, and had left no means
unessayed, except purchasing her favourite, which her

majesty thougiit it below her to do. That being the
strongest passion in the princesses breast, all other ways
proved ineffectual; so a visible coldness grew between the
sisters. Many rude things were daily said at that court,
[the establishment of the princess Anne,] and they struggled
to render themselves very popular, though with very ill
success; queen grew to be so universally beloved,
for the
that nothing would stand against her in the affections of the
nation. Upon Marlborough's disgrace, his wife was ordered

to leave court. This the princess Anne resented so highly,
that she left the court likewise, for, she said, ' she would not
have her servants taken from her.' All persons that have
credit with her have tried to make her submit to the queen,
but to no purpose. She has since that time lived in a
private house, and the distance between the sisters has now
risen so high, that the visiting of the princess is looked
upon as a neglect of the queen's displeasure ; so that the
princess is now as much alone as can be imagined. The
le session m enemies of the government began to make great court to
her ; but they fell off from her very soon, and she sunk into
such neglect, that if she did not please herself in c;n inflexi-
ble stiffness it would be very uneasy to her."
of humour,
Burnet, in manuscript notations, (where he always
his
used the present tense,) ^ speaks likewise with much acridity
on the impropriety which he asserts was committed by
admiral Russell in expostulating, with great rudeness, to

king William on Marlborough's disgrace, demanding to see
the proofs of his fault, and reminding the king, in a tone
" not very agreeable," that it was he who carried the letters
between his majesty and Marlborough before the Revolu-
' Harleian MSS., 6584.
VOL. VII. A A
354 MARY II.
tion.^ This was just before he undertook the command of

the fleet of La Hogue. Notwithstanding all Burners re-
vilings of Russell for his rough and brutal temper, and his
Jacobitism, every true-hearted person must venerate him
for upholding the honour of his country and her naval flag
(which had been wofully humbled since the Revolution)
above every political consideration. It appears, by the
well-known exclamation of his old master, king James,
when he beheld the bravery of his English sailors at La
Hogue, that he was entirely of the same opinion.
* Harleian Collection, No. 6585. It is curious to compare the condemnatory
passages which occur against the Marlhoroughs, husband and wife, throughout
Burnet's manuscripts, with the entire suppression of the same in his printed
work, and with the close intimacy which existed afterwaids between these con-
genial souls.
ii
j.«-
MARY II.
CHAPTER IX.
Vigour of the queen's government —
Accouchement of princflss Anne at Sion-
—
house — — —Queen's harsh
Death of her infant Her danger Queen visits her
manner — Long of the prhicess — Her
illness Mrs. Morley) on queen's
letters (as
sending Marlborough to the Tower—Negotiation between the queen and
—Their
princess —Victory of La Hogue— Queen's conduct— Her por-
letters
trtutby Vandervaart, (description of second portrait) —
Severity of her reign
—Princess Anne's letter brought to James II. — Itemarks on the royal sisters
by the messenger — Queen's letter to lady Russell —Princess Anne settled at
Berkeley-house —Series of letters on petty annoyances (as Mrs. Money), to
lady Marlborough (as Mrs. Freeman) —
Queen stands spcmsor with archbishop
Tillotson — —
His curious letter on it^Return of the king Anecdotes of the
queen —Verses on her knitting —
Continued enmity to princess Anne Queen—
accompanies the king to Margate —Obliged to return to Canterbury —
King's
departure — An.x-dotes of the queen's stay at Canterbury —
Queen relates par-
ticulars to Dr. Hooper — —
Her presents to the cathedral altar Queen and the
theatre — —
Her persecution of Dryden Anecdotes of the queen and her infant
nephew —Return of the king.
Queen Mary was

again left, surrounded by unexampled 1
difficulties.There were few persons in the country but
anticipated the restoration of her father. A great naval
force was collecting and arming for the invasion of the
country; the French had remained masters of the seas ever
since the Revolution, despite the junction of the fleets of

England with the rival forces of Holland. The queen had
reason to believe that the only competent naval commander
from whose skill she could hope for success, was desirous of
her father's restoration; she likewise knew that the princess
Anne had written to her father, " that she would fly to him
the veiy instant he could make good his landing in any part
of Great Britain." Indeed, a letter to James II. contain-
ing these words, it is said, was intercepted by the king and
A A 2
i
|
356 MARV IT.
queen, and that it was the cause of the disgrace of the

Marlboroughs, since they were mentioned as active agents
in the projected treason. Thus, the dangers surroundin'^
the career of queen Mary were truly appalling, and, to a
spirit less firm, would have been insurmountalile. But
she was not, in 169.2, altogether a novice in the art of
government; she had weathered two regencies, each pre-
senting tremendous difficulties. It was strongly in her
favour that Marlborough, instead of sharing her most inti-
mate councils as a disguised friend, was now an unmasked
enemy.
One of queen Mary's earliest occupations was, to renew
the trained-bands of London and Westminster, mustered in
Hyde-park to the number of 10,000 men they were des- :
tined to the defence of the capital in case of an invasion

from France. She likewise ordered the suspected admiral
Russell to proceed to sea, while her royal partner in Hol-
land caused the Dutch fleet to hasten out, to form a junc-
tion with the naval force of England under the command
of Russell. How singular it is that history, which is so
lavish in commeiulations on the excellence of queen Mary's

private virtues, should leave her abilities as a ruler unno-
ticed. Time has unveiled the separate treacheries of her
coadjutors in government : the queen was the only person
at the head of affairs on whom the least reliance could
have been reposed in time of urgency. It is well known
now that Nottingham, Godolphin, Russell, and miinx others,
both high and low in her ministry, were watching every
event, to turn with the tide if it tended to the restoration
c" her father. But while giving queen Mary every credit
>,d a wise and courageous ruler in the successive dangers |
which menaced her government in the spring of 1G92, what

can be said of her humanity, when called to the bedside of I
her suffering sister in the April of that year? The princess

Anne sent sir Benjamin Bathurst from Sion-house Avith her
humble duty, to inform her majesty " that the hour of her j
accouchement was at hand, and that she felt very ill indeed,
much worse than was usual to her." Queen Mary did not I
MARY II. 357
think fit to see sir Benjamin Batliurst, and took no notice

of this piteous message.'
After many hours of great suffering and danger, the
princess Anne brought into the world, April 17th, 1G92, a
Ihing son, who was named George, after her husband but ;
the miserable mother had the sorrow to see it expire soon

after its hasty baptism. Lady Charlotte Bevervaart, one
of the princess Anne's maids of honour, being a Dutch-
woman, and on that account considered as the more accept-
able messenger, was despatched from Sion-house to announce
to queen Mary the death of her new-born nephew. Lady
Charlotte waited some time before the queen saw her. At
last, after her majesty had held a consultation with her
uncle lord Rochester, the messenger of the princess was
admitted into the royal presence. The queen herself in-
formed lady Charlotte Bevervaart that she should visit the
princess that afternoon; indeed, her majesty arrived at
Sion almost as soon as that lady.
Queen Mary entered the chamber of her sick and sor-
rowful sister, attended by her t principal ladies, the
countesses of Derby and Scarborough. The princess Anne
was in bed, pale and sad, but the qiieen never asked her how
she did, never took her hand, or expressed the least sym-
pathy for her sufferings and her loss. Her majesty was
pleased to plunge
once into the dispute which had
at
estranged sister, to whom she exclaimed in
her from her
ail imperious tone, as soon as she was seated by the bed-
side, " I have made the
first step by coming to you and I ;
now expect that you should make the next by dismissing

lady ]\larlborough." The princess Anne became pale with
agitation at this unseasonable attack ; her lips trembled as
she replied, " I have never in my life disobeyed your
majesty but in this one particular; and I hope, at some
time or other, it appear as unreasonable to your majesty
will
as it does now to me." The queen immediately rose from
her seat, and prepared, without another word, to depart.
Priuec George of Denmark, who Avas present at this extra-
' Conduct of the Duchess of Miu-lborough, p. 69.
;
>flp»pr
/
"J
358 MARY II.
ordinary scene, led her majesty to her coach; while so

doing, the queen repeated to him precisely the same words
which she had addressed to the unfortunate invalid in bed.
The two ladies who had accompanied their royal mistress
comported themselves according to their individual disposi-
i I
tions on the occasion. Lady Derby, who had been recom-
mended to the queen by the princess Anne as groom of the
stole, in those halcyon days when these royal sisters were
rejoicing together on the success of the Revolution, now
showed her ingratitude by turning away from the sick bed
without making the slightest inquiry after the poor invalid
but lady Scarborough behaved in a manner better becoming
a womanly character.
The queen retained sufficient conscientiousness to be
shocked, on reflection, her own conduct. She was heard
;; r,
to say, on her returii to Kensington, " I am sorry I spoke as

I did to the i rincess, who had so much concern on her at
the renewal of the aff*air, that she trembled and looked as
white as her sheets." Yet the queen^s uneasy remembrance
'
of this cruel interview arose from remorse, not repentance,

for the unfeeling words she regretted were the last she ever
uttered to her sister. Thus the three persons of the Pro-
testant branch of the royal family in England were irrecon-
cilably divided during life, two against one. Lonely as tliey
were in the world, they were at mortal enmity with every
other relative who shared their blood. It will be allowed
that the causes of war and division with the exiled Roman-
catholic head of their family were of a lofty nature there :
is an historic grandeur in a contention for the establishment

of differing creeds, and even for the possession of thrones;
great, and even good princes, have struggled unto the death
when such mighty interests have been at stake. But when
enmities that last to death between sisters may be traced in
their origin to such trash as disputes concerning convenient
lodgings or amount of pocket-money, what can be the
opinion of the dignity of such minds?
Queen Mary had received a letter, in the same April,
> Conduct of the Duchesa of Marlborough, pp. 60-71.
MARY II. 359
directed by the hand of her exiled father, and written

throughout by him. It was a circular addressed to her, and
to those members of her privy council who had been most
active in raising the calumny that disinherited his unfortu-
nate son. This communication announced that his queen

expected her confinement in May, and invited them to
come to St. Germains to be present at the expected birth
of his child, promising from Louis XIV. freedom to come
and go in safety,^ Such announcement must have been

sent in severe satire, rather than in any expectation of
the invitation being accepted.

As may be supposed, the princess Anne did not undergo
all the harassing agitation the queen's harshness inflicted
on her in the hour of her weakness and suffering with
impunity. A dangerous fever followed her sister's visit,
and she hung for several days on the very verge of the
grave. From this dispute, some information regarding the
royal etiquette of that period may be ascertained, for it
appears that her majesty, queen Mary II., honoured
her all
female nobility not below the rank of a countess with a

state lying-in visit; but if she knew not better how to
comport herself in a sick room than she did in that of her
sister, these royal visitations must have thinned the ranks
of her female nobility. Long before the princess Anne
was convalescent she underwent fresh agony of alarm : by
her majesty's orders lord Marlborough was arrested, and
was forthwith hm'ried to the Tower. Then the invalid
princess harassed herself by Avriting, all day long, notes and
letters to his wife, who was obliged to leave Sion in order
to visit and assist her husband. The earliest letter written
by the princess Anne to lady Marlborough after this event,
seems to have been the following. It is dateless, but pro-
bably occui's the day after Marlborough's incarceration in
the Tower. Although the princess had not then left her
lying-in chamber, seems she had been agitated by reports
it
that her own was pending. She addresses lady Marl-

arrest
borough as Mrs. Freeman, the assumed name they had pre-
' Evelyn's Diary, vol. ii. p. 32. Memoirs of James 11.
—
f ' f
360 MARY 11.
viously agreed upon: slie terms herself, as usual, Mrs.

Morley :
"the Princess Anne to Lady Maklborouoh.

[May 16, 1692.]
" hear lord Marlho, ijjjli is sent to the Tower, and though I am certain tficy
I
have nothing against him, and expected hy yoitr letter it would he so, yet I was
struck when T was told it, for methinks 'tis a dismal thing to have one's friends
sent to that place. 1 have a thousand melancholy thoughts, and cannot lielp
fearing they should hinder you from coming to me, though how they can do that,
without making you a prisoner, I cannot guess.
" 1 am just told hy i)rctty go(xl hands, that as soon as the wind turns westerly,
there will be a guard set ujuju the ])rince and me. If you hear there is any such
thing designed, and that 'tis easy to you,' pray let me see you l)efore the wind
changes; for afterwards, one does not know whether they will let one have
opj)ortunities of speaking to one another. But lot them do what they ploase,
nothing shall ever vex me, so I can have the opportunity of seeing dear Mrs.
Freeman, and I swear I would live on bread and water between two walls with-
out repining for as long as you continue kind, nothing can ever be mortification
;
to your faithful Mrs. Morley, who wishes she may never enjoy a moment's
happiness in this world or the next, if ever she proves false to you."
The correspondence of lord Marlborough with the court of

St. Germains was the cause of his arrest it would be waste
;
of time, after the specimens produced regarding it, to discuss

it as a mystery. Many circumstances prove that queen Mary
had accurate intelligence of his treacherous intrigues. It is
as evident, that the intention of her government was not to
prove his guilt home to him, lest the princess Anne's share
in it should be revealed, —
not that the queen screened her
sister out of tenderness, but from a sagacious anticipation
that, if her conduct were discovered, most of her party
would not scruple in following her example. Invasion was

threatened daily, and the queen acted with proper precau-
tion, by securing so slippery a person as lord Marlborough
until the expected naval battle was decided. Meantime, the
princess Anne resolved to write to her sister, queen Mary,
and determined to send the by the hands of one of the
letter
prelates, Stillingfleet bishop of Worcester. Anne's poHcy in
writing to the queen is expl: iued in one of her confidential
billets to lady Marlborough. She anticipated that the queen
would debar her approach; but she wished it to be spread
far and wide, and to become universally known, that she had
> So written ; meaning, " if it is easy for you to come to me." —
Coxe's Life
of Marlborough, vol. i. p. 51. Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough.

—
s
MARY II. 361
as usual, Mrs. desired to visit her sister, and had heen forbidden. As the
bestplan for promoting this end, she sent for the bishop of
Worcester. He returned her royal highness a polite answer
thathe would come to her, but said not when ; therefore the
] observed, in one of her notes, that she dared not go
,.;eas
to London, as she had intemled to do, to meet lady Marl-
borough, lest the prelate should arrive at Sion during her

absence.'
The next morning, the bishop of Worcester actually came
toSion before the princess Anne was dressed. On her in-
terview with him, he willingly undertook the commission of
delivering the letter of the princess to the queen, but praised
her majesty so very warmly, as to induce some disgust in her
sister on account of his partiality. The princess, who gives
this narrative in her letters to her dear lady Marlborough,
adds this extraordinary conclusion to her narrative :
" I told
the bishop of Worcester that you had several times desired
you might go from me ; but I beg again, for Christ Jesus*
sake, that you woidd never more name it to me. For, be
assured, if you should ever do so cruel a thing as to leave
me, —
and should you do it without my consent, (which if I
ever give you, may I never see the face of Heaven) I will —
shut myself up and never see the Morld more, but live where
I m: be forgotten by human kind.^' It is difficult to credit
that this rant wc written by a royal matron who was con-
:
sidered under tb guidance of religious principles, being,

:
moreover, married to a prince to whom she was much

attached, and was deemed a model of the conjugal virtues.
The princess Anne finally prevailed on bishop Stillingfleet
to deliver the letter she had prepared to the queen :
"THE Princess Anne to Queen Maey.

" Sion, the 20th of May, [1692].
"I have now, God be thanked, recovered my strengtli well enough to go
abroad. And though my duty and inclination would both lead me to wait upon
your majisty as soon as I am able to do it, yet I have, of late, had the misfor-
tune of being so much iider your majesty's displeasure, as to apprehend there
may be hard constructions made upon any thing I either do, or not do, with the
most respectlul intentions.
Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, pp. 74—76.

— ;
362 MARY II.
" And I am in doubt whether the fianip iirp^nmcr. hnt have prcvnilod with
' s ,
your niiyesty to forbid pt'oplo titna allowing their u»iml rusiuTlH to me, may not
be carried so mucii further us u(jt to permit me to pay my duty to you. Tliat I
aeknowledge, would be a f?n it iuereuse of atHictiDii to me, and nothing but your
miyesty'H own conuuand shal' "êr willingly make me submit to it; forwliutever
reason I may think in my ( .i lind 1 have to eomplain of being hardly ua'd
yet I will .strive to hide it m much as possible." ^
This last sentence is disgustin{^ in its falsehood, because tlic
'a-
princess had, according to her voluntary avowal, deliberately
i!
devised the Avhole plan of writing and sending the letter by
the bishop, with the intention of making her wrongs as pub-
1,1 licly notorious as possible.
The bishop of Worcester, if we may trust the account of
the princess Anne, returned to her not a little scandalized at
the reception which the queen had given to her sister's letter.
The princess seems to have had no other end than to elicit

some harsh answer, and to let her sister be aware that she
had been apprized of her command to forbid any of the
nobility to pay her their usual visits at Sion. The princess
had added, at the conclusion of her letter, " That she would
not pretend to reside at the Cockpit, unless her majesty
would make it easy to her." This was meant as a leading
question, to ascertain whether, if she returned to that isolated
fragment of Whitehall, the queen would wiidt at the pre-
sence there of lady Marlborough. The reply which her
majesty sent to the princess Anne by the bishop of Wor-
cester, was couched in these words :
"Queen Maby to the Princess Anne.

"
have received yours by the bishop of Worcester, and have little to say to
I
it, you catuiot but know that as I never use compliments, so now they can-
shice
not serve. 'Tis none of my fault that we live at this distance, and I have
endeavoured to show my willingness to do otherwise ; and I will do no more.
" Don't give yourself any unnecebsary trouble,- for be assured 'tis not words
<-.in make us live together as we ought. You know what I recjuired of you
and now you, if you doubted it before, that I cannot change my mind, but
I tell
cxiKjct tobe complietl with,' or you must not wonder that I doubt of your kind-
ness. give me no other marks that will satisfy me, nor can I jnit iiiiy
You can
other construction upon your a<;tions than what all the world must do tliat sees
them. Tliese things do not hinder me from being very glad to hear that you
> Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 76. The letter ends with
a formula of great devotion to the queen.
* By coming to court, 'vIiltc the queen did not mean to receive her.
* By the dismissal of lady Marlborough.
—
MARY II. 863
ire well, and wishinpf that yoti may cimtlnnf so, and that you may yet, while it
ii in your power, obli^,' lue to l»e your aft'ect ionaty siator,
" Maeib, R."
The princess Anne rrathcrcd from this answer, that her

sisterwas inflexible regarding the expulsion of the Marl-
boroughs from the ])iecincts of Whitehall, a circumstance —
which decided the qiusti u of her future residence. She
was at that time in hiiity for a lease of the princely man-
sion built ^y John lord Porkeley, and after the reception of
the royal epi Av hi^tc ^d to conclude the business, and
settle her hou'* he re. The princess did not whoU}
forsake the C ii< tained her possession of thr.t
establishment, iL as cantonments for those of her
servants who were nsive to the government.
The plans and politics of Anne are unveiled, by her own
hand, in the letter she wrote to her confidante, when the
answer of the queen settled these arrangements. It is a
letterwhich thoroughly displays her disposition, written
about two days after that to the queen dated May 20th :
" THE Pbincess Annb to the Lady Maribobougu.

( Under the designation of Mrs, Freeman.)
" May 22, [1692,] Sion-house.
" Ivery sensibly touched with the misfortune that my dear Mrs. Freeman
am
luis in losing her son,* knowing very well what it is to lose a child; but she
knowing my heart so wjII, and how great a share I bear in all her concerns,
I will not say any more on this subject, for fear of renewing her passion too
much.
" Being now at liberty to go where I please, by the queen's refusing to see
me, I am
mightily inclined to go to-morrow, after dinner, to the Cockpit, and
from thence, privately, in a chair to see you. Sometime next week 1 believe
it will l)e time for me to go to London, to make an end of that business of
*
Berkeley -house."
' The princess Anne's residen(re at Berkeley-house is usually stated to have

taken place in 1690 to 1691 ; but her letter herewith marks the precise time of
her concluding the agreement.
' Alluding to the death of lady Marlborough's first-born son, an infant.
'This marks the time exactly of the commencement of Anne's residence at
Berkeley-house. She went direct, '.n February, to Sion, and from thence to
Bath, and passed the winter of 1092 -b at Berkeley-house, which was her town-
house till after the death of her sister. It v ns (as is evident from the MS. letters
in the possession of his grace the duke of Devonshire) situated on the site of the
present Devonshire-house. The noble old trees, which are plentiful in that neigh-
bourhood, are relics of the grounds of the prmcess Anne.
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864 MARY II.
In shameless contradiction of her voluntary assertion to the

queen, that although she thought herself used, she would
ill
hide it as much as possible, occur the following passages:

" The bishop [of Worcester] brought me the queen's letter early this niorniiio'
and by that letter, he said he did not seem so well satisfied with her us he was
yesterday. He has promised to hear me witness that I have made all the
advances that were reasonable ; and, I confess, I think the more it is told
about that I would have waited on the queen, but that she reftised seeing me
t* the better, and therefore I tvill not scruple saying it to any body lohen it
comes in my way,
" There were some in the family, [the household of the princess,] as soon
as
the news came this morning of our fleet beating the French, that advised the
prince [George of Denmark] to go in the afternoon to compliment the queen •
and anotlier [of her household] B^ked me • if I would not send her one ?' But
we neither of us thought there was any necessity of it then, and much less
since I received this arbitrary letter. I don't send you the original, for fear an
accident may happen to tlie bearer, for I love to keep such letters by me for my
justification. Sure never any body was so used by a sister But I thank God
!
I have nothing to reproach myself withal in this business; but the more I
think of all that has passed, the better I am satisfied. And if 1 had done
otherwise, I should have deserved to have been the scorn of the world, and to be
trampled upon as much as my enemies would have me.
" Dear Mrs. Freeman," [concludes this remarkable missive,] " farewell I !
hope in Christ you will never think more of leaving me, for I woidd be sacrificed
to do you the least service, and nothing but death tan ever make me part with
you. For, if it be possible, I am every day more and more „„ ,
—
" P. S. I hope your lord is well. It was Mr. Maule and lady Fitzharding
that advised the prince and me to make our compliments to the queen."
It is evident that this letter contained a copy of the

queen's letter to the princess Anne ; and the spirit of the
whole communication prompted lady Marlborough, nothing
loath, to make it as public as possible, in which the princess
justified herself by producing the original. Such intrigues
added greatly to the dangers by which queen Mary was
beset at this difficult period of her government, dangers —
which can only be appreciated by a knowledge of the false-
ness of too many who were, perforce, trusted by her with
important offices. The naval victory alluded to by the
princess Anne in her letter to lady Marlborough, on which
the faction in her household advised her to send the queen
" a compliment," was the celebrated one of La Hogue,
where the English navy regained some of the credit they
had lost since the Revolution. It was a victory gained
almost against the will of the commanders, Russell and
MARY II. 365
Carter, by the tenacious valour of tlie seamen they com-

manded. The correspondence of admiral Russell with James
II. has been matter of history for nearly a century. Queen
Mary knew it well ; but she, moreover, was aware that most
of the superior officers in the fleet were positively resolved
not to strike a blow against her father, their old master,
who was then at La Hogue, waiting the result of the mighty
preparations that France had made in his behalf.
Queen Mary met the danger with the high spirit arising
from her indomitable courage and great abilities. She sent
to the officers of the fleet, " that much had been told her of
.
their disaffection, and she had been strenuously advised to
take their commissions from them; but, for her part, she was
\,
resolved to rely on their honour. She felt convinced that
they would not at once betray her, a helpless woman, and
the glory of their country at the same time she trusted
:
the interests of both implicitly in their hands." If king Wil-

liam had been governing England at the time, the Protestant
cause had been lost but the reins of sovereignty being held
;
by a queen, whose manners were soft and popular, created a

strong sympathy among all classes. What the queen felt,
meantime, may be guessed by those who have read her cor-
respondence of the year 1690, where she analyzes patheti-
cally her system of enclosing hermetically the agonies of
her suspense in the recesses of her own heart.
Admiral Russell had promised James II. to avoid fighting,
ifhe could do so without loss of the honour of the British
navy. If Tourville, he said, would be content to slip out of
port in a dark night, and pass him, he would not keep too
sedulous a look-out for him, especially if he had king James
on board; but if he came out of port in open day, and defied
him, then an action must take place, and, with the eyes of
Europe on them, the fight would be in earnest. King James
was far from thinking this arrangement unreasonable, and
the same was signified to Tourville, the French admiral, who
thought more of his own personal glory than the interest of
James II. He refused to pass in the manner Russell indi-
cated, although he might have done so without the least
— — ! ; ; ; ;;
r 'f:W
366 ^ MARY II.
imputation on his valour, since the united English and Dutch

fleets were so much superior to him in force, that his hope
of victory must have been mere desperation. He came out
of port in bravado, on the 16th of May, in his flag-ship, and
a battle ensued. When once engaged, admiral Russell and
his coadjutor Carter (who was a Jacobite without conceal-
ment) did their duty to their country. Carter was killed
by some French bullet not aware of his afifection to his old
master. There is a noble historical ballad, one of the naval
songs of England, which illustrates the battle of La Hogue
in fewer and more impressive words than any other pen
can do :
"the Victoet or La Hogtte.

" I'hnrstlay, in the morn, the ides of May,
(Recorded for ever be the famous ninety-two,)
Brav3 Russell did discern, by dawn of day.
The lofty sails of Prance advancing slow j
'
' All hands above aloft —let English valour shine
!
\
Let fly a culverin, the signal for the line t
Lei' every hand attend his gun

Follow ine, you soon will see,
A battle soon begun.*
Tourville on the main triumphant rolled.
To meet the gallant Russell in combat on the deep
He led a noble train of heroes bold.
To sink the English admiral at his feet.
Now every valiant mind to victory doth aspire.
The bloody fight's begun, the sea itself'' ^ fire.
Mighty fate stood looking on.

While a fiood,
AU of blood.
Filled the scuppers of the iloyal Sun.'
Sulphur, smoke, and fire filled the £ur,

And with their thunders scared the Gallic shores
Their regulated bands stood trembling near.
To see their lily banners streaming now no more.
At six o'clock the red the smiling victors led.
To give a second blow.
The final overthrow,
British colours ride the vanquished maxa !
See they fiy amazed through rocks and sands.

!
On danger they rush, to shun direr fate

Vwnly they seek for aid their native land,
The nymphs and sea-gods mourn their lost estate.
> Tourville's flag-ship was Le Soleil Royal.

— ! !; "
' « /
MARY IT. 367
; j / For evermore adieu, thou royal dazzling Sun

From thy untimely end thy maater'a fate begun.
Now we sing
Live the kmg.
And drink success to evcrj British tar \"
This victory was decisive against the Jacobite cause. No

formidable effort, from that time, was made for James II.
Many of his most ardent friends, (among others, the cele-
brated dean Sherlock,) out of a sense of duty to their coun-
try, took the oaths to William and Mary.
When the English fleet arrived at Spithead, without the

loss queen Mary promptly sent 30,000/. in
of a single ship,
gold to be distributed among the common sailors, and sent
gold medals to be given to the oflBcers. There is a tradition,
that after the victory of La Hogue, the unfinished shell of
the new palace of Greenwich was ordered by queen Mary
to be prepared for the reception of the wounded seamen;
and that from this circumstance the idea first originated in

her mind of the conversion of this neglected building into
a hospital, similar in plan to her uncle's foundation at Chel-
sea for veteran soldiers. The vigour and ability of queen
Mary's government at the period of difficulty preceding the
battle of La Hogue, became themes of commendation of all
the poets of her par.y. Among the verses to her honour,
those of Pomfret are really the best :
" When her great lord to foreign wars is gone,

>nd left liisMary here to reign alone,
"Vv ith how serene a brow, how void of fear,
When storms arose did she the vessel steer

And when the raging of the waves did cease,
How gentle was he:- sway in times of peace
How good she was, how generous, how wise.
How beautiftU her shape, how bright her eyes !
Vandervaart's penciP proves the great difference a few

years, accompanied by increase of embonpoint, can make in
the person of a female. Mary II. appeared in 1692, accord-
' Several fine engravings in the mezzotinto dtyle, from the original portrait of
Mary at this period, may be seen in the British Museum, in the collection of
English jwrtraits, vol. xi. p. 127. Maeia D. G. Anglic, Scotic^, et Hibeb-
Ki* Regina, &c. Vandervaar pinxit ; J.Smith fecit. Sold by U. Cooper,
Three Pidgeons, in Bedford-street. Another, same plate, in Crowles' London,
vol. xi.
w
368 MARY II.
ing to the engraving, as represented in the second portrait

which illustrates this volume. All angles are filled up in this
delineation of the royal matron ; her cheeks, which present
any thing but roundness of contour in her elegant portrait
painted by Wissing for her father, when she was princess of
Orange,' are now comely, and she appears on the verge of
I* •
that decided obesity which is presented in her portraits and

medals about the period of her demise. The architecture
to the right of the queen marks both the date of the present
portrait, and the place where her majesty is represented to
be seated. The round windows are the entresols of the
interior of the Fountain-court, Hampton-palace, and thus
they are seen from the chapel-royal there. The queen is
represented at morning service in the royal gallery, pro-
bably listening to some favourite preacher. She is sitting
half enveloped in the velvet curtain of the royal closet;
part of the curtain, with the heavy gold fringe, is flung
over the front of the gallery on which her elbow leans.
Her hand is supported by the large Spanish fan, closed,

which ladies used when walking, instead of a parasol, until
the end of the eighteenth century.
The queen's singular habiliments give a correct idea of
the morning dress which ladies in England wore from 1687
to 1707, and certainly is not inaptly described in the Spec-
tator as head-clothes : it superseded the use of the bonnet
or hat, and seems a Dutch modification of the ever-elegant
Spanish mantilla-veils. It is a cornette head-dress of three
tiers made of guipure point, piled on the top of the hair,
which is combed up from the roots and set oa end, except-
ing some curls ranked as love-locks, serving as basements
to the lace structure. Broad and full lappets border the
cheeks on each side, and fall as low as the elbows, and are
ornamented with bows of striped ribbon. Probably these
lappets, or side veils, drew over the face to shade off the sun.
The brocade robe is stiff-bodied, and very hard and high the ;
sleeves are narrow at the shoulders, where they fasten with

bows of ribbon; they widen as they descend, and turn up
' See frontispiece.
I
''^ U- "^--rî
MARY 11. 369
with cuffs from the elbows, to show the sleeves of the che-
mise, which sustain rich ruffles of guipure-point, meeting
stiff long gloves of leather, that mount too high to permit
any portion of the arm to be visible. The bosom is shaded
by the chemise, the tucker heavily trimmed with guipure.
A large magnificent cluster of diamonds on the chest, and a
throat-necklace of enormous pearls, are the only jewels worn
with this costume. The queen must have been constant to
this style of dress, since one of her Dutch portraits, on which
is marked the year 1688, presents her precisely in the same

attire. It is a fine work of art, of the Flemish school, in the
possession of lord Braybrooke, by whose permission it was
exhibited a few years since at the British Institution. The
queen is represented sitting in a doleful-looking apartment,
by a tablewith a green cloth, calling strongly to mind the
small and dark parlour she was forced to dine in, after she
1
had resigned her dining-room at the Hague to serve for her
chapel.
At the awful crisis of the battle of La Hogue, Mary II.

was but thirty years of age
j her height, her fully-formed
and magnificent figure, and, as her poet sings, " the bright-
ness of her eyes," were singularly becoming to her royal
costume. In the absence of her cynical partner, she took

care to derive all possible advantages from frequently ap-
pearing in the grandeur of majesty, and kept the enthusiasm

of the London citizens at its height by receiving their con-
gratulatory addresses in her royal robes, and on her throne
in the fatal Banqueting-room, and by often reviewing their
trained-bands and artillery-companies in person, which civic
militia was considered, in that century, formidable as a
military body. Nevertheless, there were dark traits mixed
with her government the fate of Anderton, the supposed
:
printer of some tracts in favour of the queen's father, is
cited as an instance of open tyranny, unexampled since the
times of Henry VIII.' The printer was brought to trial

during the queen's regency of 1693. He made a vigorous
defence, in spite of being brow-beat by the insults of judge
I
Smollett's History of England, vol. ix. p. 209.
VOL. VII. B B
870 MARY TI.
Troby from the howcli. Tlun'c wns no roul evidence uj^'aiiist
him, notliiu}; but doductions, and tlu; jury refused to hv'nm

in a verdict of lii}j;li treason ; they wen?, however, reviled
and reprimanded by judjê 'IVcsljy, till they broii}j;ht in An-
derton guilty, most reluctantly. The mercy of (lueeii Mary
was invoked in this ease but she was i)erfectly innxoraijle
;
and he suffered death at 'ryburu under ]u;r wai'raiit, the

man solemnly ajâinst the proceedinj^s of the
protesting?
:\ il
court. " The he declared, " was appointed hy
jud}>;e,"
the (pieen, not to try, but to convict him." lie likewise

forgave his jury, who expressed themselves penitent for his
death. If these circumstances be as the historian has re-
presented,' hjugland, after the llevolution, liad small cause

to congratulate herself on her restored liberties, and juries
were composed of more pliant materials than in the case of

sir Nicholas Throcknuu'ton. William and Mary, who had
reversed the sentence of Algernon Sidney, and si^'jned the
Bill of Rights, were not remarkably consistent. Perhaps
they meant to limit liberty merely to the members of the
house of commons, and the responsible representatives of
large masses of money and land.
John Dunton, a fanatic bookseller, avIio wrote a journal,
thus comments on his publication of the Ilistoiy of tlie
Edict of Nantes. "It was a wonderful pleasure to queen
Mary," observes Dunton,'^ " to sec this history made Eng-
lish. was the only book to which she granted licr royal
It
licence in 1G93." Whether John Dunton means leave of
dedication, or whether the liberty of the press was under
such stringent restrictions as his words imply, is not entirely
certain, but the doleful fate of Anderton gives authenticity
to the latter opinion.
The historical medals of the reign of William III. and
Mary are a most extraordinary series : many of them, quaint,
» Smollett.
' Dunton's Anto-biogi'aphy, p. 153. John Dunton opened bis shop, at the
sign of the Raven in the Poultry, the day of the proclamation of Willium and
Mary. He soon after published the Seci-et History of Whitehall, the blat^lcest
libel on the family of his royal patroness that had yet appeared it was concocted
:
by one Wooley, a hack-writer, and John Dunton himself.

MARY II. 371
absurd, and boastful, seem as ifmeant to out-do the vain-

glorious inscriptions of Louis XIV. A medal, which was
struck in Holland in commemoration of the events of this
year, is unique in artistical productions, for no other poten-
tate, either Christian or pagan, ever thus commemorated a
scene of torture. " It is," says the obsequious historian,*
"the more remarkable, as the antients never represented
such on their medals." It represents the horrible
subjects
death of Grandval, who was accused and convicted of con-
spiring to kill William III., and executed in Flanders at the
English camp, according to the English law of treason.''

This tender testimonial was plentifully distributed in Great
Britain under Mary's government, and is to be seen in
It presents William in
bronze still, in old family cabinets.
wigand laurel on one side of the medal; the reverse is
ornamented with the executioner standing over the half-
animated corpse of Grandval, knife in hand. Fires bum
at the head and feet of the victim, in one of which his heart
is to be consumed : the front of the scaffold is adorned with
the inscription of the crime. On the right side are three
stakes; on one is the head, on the two others the fore-
quarters of the miserable wretch : is adorned
the other side
ffith the gallows, and the other quarters. August 13, 1692,
the day of the butchery, is beneath.' Detestable as these
executions might be, they were legal. The monarchs reign-
ing in England were justified in permitting them;
'
ut to
celebrate them in such commemorations is unexampled, and
infinitely disgraced the epoch. Medals in those days must

have taken the place of political caricatures; in these of
William and Mary, every kind of grotesque absurdity is
represented as befalling their adversaries. Several medals
were struck on the escape of William from the fog off Goree;
he is seen in the boat, in his wig and armour, pointing to
'
Medallic History of the four last Eeigns, —
William, Mary, Anne, and
George; with- prints of the Medals p. 23, plate 14.
:
* Toone's Chronology.
The author has lately been shovm one of these extraordinary medals in
•
sBver by W. D. Haggard, esq., r.E.s., F.S.A., extant in his valuable collection at
Hammersmith.
B B 3
.
872 MAHY IT.
two gotliic towers which seem to command the port of Goroo.

Towards the end of Mary's life sherepresented in these
is
medals as enormously fat, witli two or three ponderous
chins; in general, the reverses represent her in the cha-

racter of a lioness crushing serpents, or valiantly aidiii"
her husband king William, who, in the semblance of a lion,
is catching and mauling, not only the Gallic cock, but seve-
ral hens, making their feathers fly about very absurdly. A
droller series of caricatures on themselves were never per-
petrated, than this series of medals illustrative of the regnal
n history of William and Mary.
Meantime, we must return to the penitential letter writ-
ten by Anne to her father, which, although dated in the
preceding December, had been travelling by circuitous
f ('
routes several months before the bearer reached James II.
in Normandy. At the town of La Hogue, not far from the
ancient port of Barfleur, James II. had encamped with tlic
army which the ships of Tourville were intended to con-
vey to England. The king had expressed, in his Journal,
great distrust of the affected repentance of his daughter
Anne and her advisers. He observed, "Former treachery
made such intentions liable to suspicion; yet Marlborough
put so plausible a face upon his treasons, that if they were
not accompanied by sincerity, they had, at least, a specious
appearance. They had tins reason, above all others, to be
credited ; they were out of favour with the prince of Orange
[William III.] and reaped no other benefit from their past
,
than the infamy of having committed them. The

infidelities
most interested persons' repentance may be credited, when
they can hope to mend their fortunes by repairing their fault,
and better their condition by returning to their duty."'
Such were the very natural reflections of the outraged
father, when he received the intimation of the repentance
of his daughter Anne, and of her favourites the Marl-
boroughs. Captain Davy Lloyd, the old sea-comrade of
James II., who had been entrusted with the penitential
letter of Anne, brought it to him the day after the battle

|
> Memoirs of James II., edited by Stauier Clark.

MARY II. 373
of the Hogue. Notwitlistanding the cool shrewduess of

the ahovc remarks, the old king's parental tenderness
yearned when he read the letter of his favourite child.
As captain Lloyd left the presence, king James observed
to some friend who stood l)y him, " That his daughter
Anne was surely better than her sister Mary." Captain
Lloyd, over-hearing this remark, re-opened the door he had
closed, put in his head, and, with a rough seaman's oath
and rude canine compai'ison, let his master know his opi-
nion, that botii were alike in principle.' Captain Davy
Lloyd was an intimate friend of admiral Russell. He had
had several secret interviews with that admiral —and, as some
say, with the princess Anne herself — on Jacobite affairs before
he brought the letter to her father. A few words which
the princess let fall regarding her own selfish interests,
probably occasioned his well-known burst of indignation,
when he heard her father mention her with fondness.
When impartially considered, the conduct of Anne was
far less excusable than that of her sister, queen Mary; nor
is her guilt against h' r country to be palliated. If the

princess had had any real conviction of the religious prin-
ciples she professed, she would have endured far severer
mortifications than any William and Mary had the power

to inflict on her, before she would have disturbed the set-
tlement whereby a Protestant religion was secured the pre-

dominance in England. Supposing James II. had been
restored in 1692, there would have been far more danger
from the encroachments t>f Home than before the Revolu-
tion took place. Anne Lherefore remains convicted of be-

traying not only her king and father, but the monarch of
the Revolution, whom she had helped to raise. As her

father was still more devoted to the church of Rome in
1691 and 169.2 than in 1688, base self-interest or revenge-
ful pique must have been the ruling motives of her com-
munication with him.
From some unexplained caprice, admiral Russell refused
a title with which queen Mary was desirous of investing him.
> Bibl. Birch, 4163, folio 44.

— '
f!^
,
374 MARY II.
Her majesty had recourse to the intervention of his vciic-

rated relative, Rachel lady Russell ; the followin{i^ fraj^ciit
of the royal correspondence on this subject has been pre-
served:
—
" I confess myself lazy enough in writing, yet that
has not hindered me from answering lady Russell's letter
but staying for Mr. Kussell's own answer, to whieh you
referred me. have seen him this day, and find he is
I
resolved to be Mr. Russell still. I could not press him
further on a thing he seemed so little to care for, so there
is an end of that matter. Whether the king will think I
have done enough on that matter or no, I cannot tell; but
it is not in my nature to compliment, which always makes
me take people at their words."

When queen Mary had surmounted tlie most formidable
of the difficulties which beset her regnal sway in the event-
ful summer of 1692, she had once more leisure to descend
from the greatness of the firm and courageous monarch to
the pettiness of the spiteful partisan, and to devise new
annoyances for the mortification of her sister. According
to the narrative of lady Marlborough, it was the earnest
endeavour of queen Mary to prevent the nobility from pay-
ing the princess Anne the accustomed visit of ceremonial on
her convalescence, when she left her lying-in chamber. For
this purpose, the queen intimated to all her courtiers, both
lords and ladies, that those who went to Sion-house would
not be received at court. The queen (if the Marlboroughs
may be believed) herself condescended to intimate this re-
solution to lady Grace Pierrepoint,^ who replied, " That she
considered that she owed a certain degree of respect to the
princess and if her majesty declined receiving her for pay-

;
ing it, she must submit to her pleasure and stay away from
court." Lady Thanet was not so high-spirited, but she sent
her excuse in writing to the princess, lamenting the pro-
hibition of her majesty. To this letter the following answer
was returned :
> Bibl. Birch, 4163, foUo 44.

2 Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 96.
—
MAllY II. 375
"THE PinNCKSS ANNK TO TllK DoWAaEll-LAUV TlIANKT.'

" It IN no Hiimll lulilition to my unliii]i])inoHH iit tin; qtu>«<iri4 diNpk'umin', thiit I
am tli'in'ivi'il by it of tlic Hutlsfncdoii nf Mcriinir my t'r'u'ii<ls, oM|M'ciiilly hucIi iis
tctm (IcHiroiiM to Ht'c mi>, and to tind by tlioM; liit<> coimnimdH which her iiiigcHty
\m îvi'ti you, tliiither iiukiiuitu'Nrt \h to huv(> no oud. Thu only cotntort I liuvo
intiuHo ^jrcat hnrdnhips in, to tliink how lit tic I huvt- iKwrvftl tlii'in from tho
qtwu ; iiml tliat tliought, I hope, will liolji nic to Mnj)jK)rt them witli Ivhs
iuiiMiticnoo.
" I am the less suqiriwd at tlio Htrictiicss of the (|iK'on'H command to you
upon this <KTU«ion, Bince I have found Mhe can be no very unkind to, Ac,
'
" Annb."
Tlio princess, when her hcaltli ])ennittcd the journey,

left Sion-house, and went, fur the rcstonitiou of hvv shut-
tered constitution, to try tlie waters of Hath. Thither the
indefatigahlc queen pursued lier.
ill-nature The of the
report of the honours with which the mayor and corporation
of Batli received Anne, cnrajêd lier majesty. The mor-

tifications were hut trifling which the queen had the power
to inflict, yet she did her worst, and condescended to order
such letters as tlie following to he written to the mayor of
Bath, a tallow-chandler by trade, to prevent the respect that

his city thought due to the heiress-presumptive of the
crown :
"LoKD Nottingham, lohu chamberlain, to the Matok of BatJi.'

" Sir,
" Tlie
queen lias l)cen informed, that yourself and your brethren have attended
the with the same respect and ceremony as \m\o Iwen usually ])ttid to
princess
the royal family. Perhaps you may not have heard what (xcusion her mi\je8ty
has liud to be displeased with the ])rinces8, and therefore I am commanded to
aojuaint you, that you arc not, for tlie future, to pay her bighness any rfsjx-ct
or ceremony without leave from her majesty, who does not doubt of receiving
from you and your brethren this public mark of your duty.
" Your most humble servant,

r "Nottingham."
This undignified mandate was duly received by the mayor
of who were sorely
Bath, and his brethren the aldermen,
troubled and perplexed therewith. They consulted with Mr.
Harrington, of Helston, as to what course would be most pru-
dent to take, without making himself an instrument of the
queeu's malice by putting a public affront on their illustrious
visitor. In consequence of Harrington's advice, he commu-

* CJonduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 96.
» Ibid, p. 98.
H'!
376 MARY II.
nicated the letter to Anne, who is said to have smiled at the

paltry manifestation of her august sister's ill-will, and with
great good sense desired the corporation to omit all mark of
distinction to herself in future, as shewould not, on any
account, wish that the friendly city of Bath should incur
the iU-will of their majesties on her account. In conse-
quence of this reply, the mayor and corporation, who had
been accustomed to attend her royal highness in procession
to the abbey-church every Sunday, discontinued that mark
of attention for the future;' but the ungenerous conduct of
the queen had, of course, the effect, always to be observed in
the English character, of exciting the enthusiasm of the inde-

pendent citizens in favour of her persecuted sister. Anne's
manner of treating the withdrawal of such honours as a
corporation could bestow, is told in an affectionate note

which she wrote to her favourite after they came out of
the abbey-church. From it may be learned, that lady
Marlborough was more startled and disturbed at the loss of
the corporation-homage than her mistress :
"THE Pbincess Anne to Lady Maelboeough.*

( Under the names of Morley and Freeman.)
" Dear Mrs. Freeman must give me leave to ask her, if any thing has hap-
pened to make her uneasy ? I thought she looked to-night as if she had the
spleen, and I can't help heing in pain whenever I see her so. I fancied, yester-
day, when the mayor failed in the ceremony of going to church with me, that
he was commanded not to do it. I think 'tis a thing to he laughed it. And if
they imagine either to vex me or gain upon me by such sort of usage, they will
be mightily disappointed. And I hope these foolish things they do will every
day show more and more what they are, and that they truly deserve the name
your faithful Morley has given them."
The pronoun they perhaps pertains to the sovereigns Wil-

liam and Mary; as for the name the princess had given
them, there is no further information afforded. The names
of " Caliban " and " monster " were appellations the princess
very liberally bestowed on her brother-in-law Idng William
at this juncture ; but in neither of these, nor in others not
quite so refined, could his royal partner claim her share.
The princess Anne was an adept in the odious custom

1 Historv of Bath- bv +.Vin rim. P.inViorH Wnrijer.
2 Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 99.
MARY II. 377
of giving nick-names, —
a proceeding to which only the
lowest minds condescsnd. Before the Marlborough pub-
lished her letters, she expunged the abusive epithets found
in them which were meant to designate king William,
It appears, from Dr. Pearse's Memorials of Bath, that the
place of residence of the princess Anne was called in that

city the Abbey-house, a mansion now demolished, but which
was then inhabited by a Dr. Sherwood, the most celebrated

physician in the west of England. The princess was his pa-
tient as well as his tenant he caused a private communication
:
to be made between the Abbey-house and the king's bath
for her use. The following letter from the princess to her
favourite was written, it is supposed, at Berkeley-house,
soon after leaving Bath.
"the Peincess Ak?!e to Lady Mablboeough.'

( Under the names of Morley and Freeman.)
" I really long to know how my dear Mrs. Freeman got home j and now I
have this opportunity of writing, she must give me leave to tell her, that if she
should ever he so cruel as to leave her faithful Mrs. Morley, she will rob her of
all the joy and quiet of her for if that day should come, I could never
life j
enjoy a happy minute, and I swear to you I would shut myself up, and never see
a creatiu-e. You may see all this would have come upon me, if you had not been,
[i. e. never existed,] if you do but remember what the queen said to me the
night before your lord was turned out of all, when she began to pick quarrels.
" And if they [i. e. king William and queen Mary] should take oft' twenty or
thirty thousand pounds (per annum), have I not lived on as little before ? When
1 was first married we had but twenty, (it is true, the king^ was so kind »c to
pay my debts); and if it should come to that again, what retrenchment is ^here
in my family I woidd not willingly make, and be glad of that pretence to do it?
" Never fancy, dear Mrs. Freeman, if what you fear should happen, that you
are the occasion ; no, I am very well satisfied, and so is the prince too, it would
have been so, however, for Caliban is capable of doing nothing but injustice,
therefore rest satisfied you are no ways the cause. And let me beg once more,
for God's sake, that you would never mention parting more, —
no, nor so much
as think of it ; and if you should ever leave me, be assured it would break your
faithful Mrs. Morley's heart.

" P. S. —
I hope my dear Mrs. Freeman will come as soon as she can this
afternoon, that we may have as much time together as we ca. I doubt you
. ,
will tliink me very unreasonable, but I really long to see you again, as if I had
not been so happy this month."
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 99. The square brackets con-
tain t)ie explanations by the author ; the round ones ai*e the parentheses of the
princess.
^ This w&s her father, James 11.; it is coiinrmatory of some preceding ancc-
doteis.
n •:
378 MARY II.
The above and the succeeding one of the same scries,

letter,
are totally without dates

; but there are some allusions to
the imprisonment of lord Marlborough in the Tower, and
subsequently to his release on bail, which circumstances
caused considerate absences of his lady from the side of
her adoring princess; because, to use the phrase so often
occurring in Burnet's historical narratives, " 'twas scarce
decent" that a person under bail for treason should reside
in the family of the heiress-presumptive of the British
crown.
Ik The queen kept lord Marlborough as long as possible
either incarcerated in the Tower, or under the restraint
of bail. It was Michaelmas term before his bail was ex-
onerated; afterwards, he took up his abode in the house-
hold of the princess Anne. A new struggle then com-
menced, regarding the residence of this obnoxious pair in
the household of the heiress. In this, a party against
them in the princess's establishment at Berkeley-house
took ardent interest. Lord Rochester, the uncle of the
royal sisters, again went and came from the queen, with
proposals respecting their dismissal; Mr. Maule, the bed-
chamber gentleman of prince George, undertook to sway
his master, and sir Benjamin Bathurst and lady Fitzharding
the princess. Lord Rochester hinted to his niece, that if
she would dismiss lady Marlborough, in order to show a
semblance of obedience to the queen, her majesty would
permit her to receive her again into her service. The prin-
w cess seems to have caught at this compromise, for she sent
lady Fitzharding to her sister to know if she had rightly
understood their uncle's words; for if there was no mis-
take, she would give her majesty "satisfaction of that sort."
This compliance was so far from giving queen Mary satis-
faction of any kind, that she fell into a great passion,

and declared to lady Fitzharding, "that she would never
see the princess again upon other terms than parting with
.-——-If
lady Marlborough, —not for a time, but for ever." And
Mary added, with imperious voice and gesture, "she Avas
a queen, and would be obeyed:" this sentence, according
I
MARY II. 379
to lady Yith aiig*s testimony, her majesty repeated seve-

ral times wit'i >noreasing harshness.'
Lady Marlborough again proposed retiring of her own
accord, which proposition, as she well knew, would draw
from her fond mistress an agonizing appeal by letter not
to forsake her, in which entreaty the compliant prince
George joined.
"THE Pbincess Anne to Lady Marlbobough."
{By the names of Morley and Freeman.)
" In obedience to dear Mrs. Freeman, I have told the prince all she desired
ine; and he is so far from being of another opinion, tliat, if there had been
occasion, he would have strengthened me in my resolutions, and we both beg
you will never mention so cruel a thing any more."
"^ $:
" Can you think," continues the princess, " either of us
so wretched that, for the sake of 20,000/., and to be tor-
mented from morning to night with knaves and fools, we

should forsake those we have such obligations to, and that
we are so certain we are the occasion of all their misfor-
tunes ? Besides, can you believe we will truckle to Caliban,
who, from the first moment of his coming, has used us at
that rate as we are sensible he has done ?
" But suppose that I did submit, and that the king could
change his nature so much as to use me with humanity,
how would all reasonable people despise me ? How would
that Dutch monster laugh at me, and please himself with
having got the better? And, which is much more, how
would my conscience reproach me for having sacrificed
it, my honour, reputation, and all the substantial comforts
of this life, for transitory interest, which, even to those
who make it their interest, can never afford any real satis-
faction to a virtuous mind?"^ It is sickening to find Anne
and her accomplices talking of virtue to one another, each
knowing that they were betraying their country from pri-
vate pique and self-interest, just as they had previously
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 100. * Ibid., p. 84.

' Blanks are left in the printed copy for the epithets of ' Caliban ' and
'
Dutch monster,' which are restored from the Coxe MSS., Brit. Mus.
,'11 '
-v
380 MARY II.
betrayed a father and benefactor. She proceeds, after this

burst of undeserved self-praise, —" No, my dear Mrs. Free-
man ! never believe your faithful Mrs. Morley will ever
submit. She can wait with patience for a sunshine dav
and if she does not live to see it, yet she hopes England
will flourish Namely, when her young son, the
again."
duke of Gloucester, had arrived at man's estate, "a sun- —
shine-day " neither he nor his mother were ever to behold.
Meantime, the young duke lived at his nursery- palace of
Campden-house, from whence he was frequently taken to
wait upon her majesty, who made a marked diff'erence be-
tween her treatment of this child and of his parents.
If our readers wish to form any idea of the features of
the metropolis, and its manners and customs, under the
sway of Mary II., in like manner as they have been shown
under our Norman, Plantagenet, and Tudor sovereigns, vain
would be the search among the folios which it has pleased
the policy of modern writers to call history ; in truth, filled
up as they are with dry details of foreign battles, and the
mere outward movements of cabinet diplomacy, such nar-
rative is the history of any country rather than our own.
There were, however, writers who traced with horrible
exactitude popular manners at the close of the seventeenth
century, even as the gentler pen of Addison drew the sta-
tistics of society in the latter years of queen A.nne. From
one of these works are gathered a few memorials of localities

in London and Westminster at the close of the seventeenth
century. The author has chosen to sketch a tour through
—
London, beginning with May fair, not the well-known
locale of fashionable celebrity, but an ancient fair held
on the sites of those streets, which fair, departing AvhoUy
from the useful pui'poses which caused its foundation, liad
become coarsely vicious. The tourist and his friend, to
convey them to "the May fair," took a hackney-coach,
a vehicle resembling the modern hired carriages of the
kind in nothing but in name. "For want of glasses to
our coach," he says, "we drew up tin sashes, pinked
MARY II. 381
with holes like a cullender, to defend us from stifling with

^
the dust."
Among the strange proceedings at the May fair, the
describer of its "humours" mentions "that a country-
man, walking in its vicinity, near the HayhiU-farm, (now
Farm-street,) had picked up a toad in one of the ditches; 1(1'
and seeing a coach full of ladies of quality proceeding to

look at the fair, he became much incensed at the sight
of the masks by which they hid their faces, and
loup
preserved at once their complexions and their incognito.
'In those black vizards you look as ugly as my toad
here,' said the man to them; and so saying, he tossed
the creature into the low-hung carriage, a manoeuvre which V
caused the whole party to alight in great const(?rnation

for the purpose of expelling their unwelcome inmate, to
the infinite delight of the mob of May fair." Such parties
of the queen's ladies, escorted by her lord chamberlain
and lady Derby, often made excursions from her palace,
and it was the custom to bring home very rich fairings,
either from the May fair, or from the July fair, likewise
called that of " St. James." This circumstance is men-
tioned in a lively letter of lady Cavendish^ to her lord,
descriptive of some such excursion;' but it was to the St.
James's and seems to have been performed on foot, one
fair,
of the guards of the fair bevy being a certain sir James, of
whose identity no traces are to be found in her letter, but

we presume that he was sir James Lowther. There is some
reason to suppose that the queen was of the party. " I have
been but once to the fair ; sir James gallanted us thither, and
in so generous a humour, that he presented us all with fair-
ings the queen's fairing coat him twenty guineas. None of

:
us but Mrs. AUington had the grace to give him a fairing.

On our return, we met my lord chamberlain, lord Notting-
ham, in the cloisters of St. James's-palace. He addressed
himself extremely to the afore-named lady, [Jane Alling-
> Ward's London. ' Daughter of Rachel lady Russell.
• Devonsliire Papers, copied by permission of his grace the duke of Devonshire.
382 MARY II.
ton,] and never left her all the time we stayed there;
which, indeed, was not long, for our two gouvernantes,
lady Derby and sir James, were impatient to be gone,
so I had not time to choose a fairing."'
St. is described, by the author quoted
James's-palace
lii. above,'' as being entered " through a lofty porch into tlie
first court, where a parcel of country-boobies were gazing at
the whale's ribs with great amazement." Thus it appears

that the naval kings of England had ornamented the gates
of their home palace with this maritime trophy. Then, after
describing the beauties of the palace, and promenading in
the Birdcage- walk, he went to take a turn on the parade,
" which is," " in a morning quite covered with the
he says,
bones of red herrings .From thence we walked to the canal,
!
where ducks were frisking in the water and standing on their

heads, showing as many tricks as a Bartholomew tunbler.
I said to my friend, ' Her majesty's ducks are wondrous
merry.' " Queen Mary was thus considered as the heiress of
the pet ducks of her uncle Charles II., as well as of his
crown. " We then took a view of the famed figure of the
Gladiator, which is indeed well worthy of the place it stands
1 in. Behind this figure, at the foot of the pedestal, we sat
down to see the aqueduct, and watch its inhabitants the

ducks, who delighted us with their pastimes. Thence we
walked by the decoy, where meandering waters glided
smoothly beneath their osier canopies. We turned from
thence into a long lime- walk ; at the termination of this
delectable alley was a knot of lofty elms by a pond side,
round which were commodious seats. Here a parcel of old
cavaliers were conning over the history of the civil wars,
and perhaps comparing the two revolutions."
In the course of their walk, they pass Westminster-abbey.
The remarks prove that it was in a state of the most dreadful
desolation, and that it was crowded with " the poor of St.
» This letter has no date of year or day, but it is in answer to one from her
lord, directed to her at ArUngton-house, (since Bucldngham-house,) dated July
1692, in which he begs her to buy him a fairing. July 25th is St. James's-
day, when the fair commenced. a Ward's London.
MARY II. 883
.*'
Margaret's parish, begging in the time of divine service;*
that is, the pauper population of the fearful haunts of misery
and vice in the purlieus of the streets round the abbey, came
to hold out their hands for the offertory ^ven by the abbey-
congregation, —a proof that all organization of proper dis-
tribution was even then broken up. " We crossed the
palace-yard, on the east end of which lay the relics of West-
minster clock-house,' in a confused heap; from thence we
moved on to the tennis-court of Whitehall-palace, fenced
round with network/' This the author affected to consider
"as a net set up to catch Jacobites;" therefore it may be
presumed it was one of their haunts. " We passed the
-\
\
tennis-court, and went forwards to Whitehall, whose ruins
we viewed with no little concern, as consumed by flames
near so much water, and all that artists, at the cost of our
greatest kings, had improved to delight and stateliness,
remains dissolved in rubbish; those spacious rooms where
majesty has sat so oft, attended with the glories of the court
—the just, the wise, the beautiful —now huddled in confu-
sion, as if the misfortunes of princes were visited on their
palaces as well as persons. Through several out-courts we
came to Scotland-yard, covered with recumbent soldiers,
who were basking in the sun." At Whitehall-stairs the au-
thor embarked for the city. " When we came
upon Tower-
hil], the first object that more was
particularly affected us
that emblem of destruction, the scaffold. Next to this
memento mori we were struck with the Traitors'-gate, where
the fall of the moat- waters, in cataracts on each side, made
so terrible a noise, that it is enough to fright a prisoner out
of the world before his time of execution. The passage to

it is fortified with rusty iron guns." They saw the regalia,
" with the crown made for the coronation of her late majesty,
[Mary Beatrice of Modena,] and three crowns worn by her

present majesty, Mary II., with distinct robes for several
}}
occasions.
'
The Clock-house had been demolished by the roundhead mob forty years
before, as popish, at the time they demolished Charing-cross.
i-
. r
381 MARY II.
No comments are made upon the state of tlic arts by tliis

writer ; in times of war, even if monarchs have the taste to
wish to reward them, they are usually destitute of funds. The
frightful costume of periwigs, in which the mascuHne portion
of the human race were at this period enveloped, from the age
of three years to their graves, greatly injured the pictorial
representation of the human form and historical
: portrait
painting then commenced the dull decline which subsisted
from Kneller to Hogarth. Some few artists obtained repu-
tation as painters of animals and flowers these were all :
Flemings or Dutchmen. Queen Mary patronised the cele-

brated flower-artist, John Baptist Monnoycr,' who was
brought to England by the duke of Montague, to decorate
the walls and ceilings of Montague-house with the beauti-
tl
ful wreaths of flowers that have been the admiration of suc-
ceeding generations.'' His most curious work is said to be a
looking-glass at Kensington-palace, which queen Mary em-
ployed him to decorate for her. She watched the progress
of this beautiful representation of still-life with the greatest
interest. Tradition says it was wholly painted in her pre-
sence. In all probability, the exquisite wreaths of flowers
round looking-glasses at Hampton-Court were painted by
Monnoyer for his royal patroness.
Some of queen Mary's subjects were desirous that she
should turn her attention to the reformation of female dress.
In her zeal for moral improvement, she had talked of a

sumptuary-law she designed for the purpose of suppressing
''):
. 1
the height of cornette caps, the growth of top-knots, and
above all, the undue exaltation of the fontange, a streaming
ribbon floating from the summit of the high head-dresses,
first introduced by the young duchess de Fontange, the
lovely mistress of Louis XIV. These were the favourite

fashions of the times, and queen Mary's contemporary
afiirms, that her majesty was infinitely scandalized " that
the proud minxes of the city" and the lower ranks should
wear such modes. Nevertheless, two pictures of her ma-
> Biography of Monnoyer, Grainger. » The British Museum.
" -s^W^ I,
MARY II. 385
jesty, as well as her wax effigy in Westminster-abbey, are

decorated with the obnoxious fontange. The costume she
projected for her female subjects,(if the periodicals of her day
be correct,) was the high-crowned hat in which the Dutch

'
frmos and boorines are seen in the pictures of Teniers and

Ostade. This was really an old English costume; it had
become a general fashion in the reigns of Elizabeth and
James, and was adopted by the fanatics of the Cromwellian
era: it lingered among the old people at the end of the
seventeenth century. The day was gone by when queens

could with impunity impose sumptuary laws, and fulminate i!.:
penalties against exaggerated ruffs and unreasonable furbe-

lows, regulate the length of rapiers and shoe-ties, the ampli-
tude of trains, and prescribe the rank of the wearers of

cloth, satin, velvet, and gold tissue. It was a laughable
mistake, moreover, to impute moral virtue to a queer-shaped
hat and had the queen known any thing of the history of
;
the past, she would have been aware that the original intro-
ducers of the sanctified steeple-crowns were considered by

their contemporaries'^ as presumptuous vessels of wrath, and
were vituperated as much as the " city minxes " who flaunted
m comettes and top-knots after her gracious example.
From some fragments of correspondence between her
majesty and Rachel lady Russell, it appears that lady was
a frequent applicant for places and pensions; but that the
queen perpetually referred her to the king, not daring to

dispose of any thing, even in her own household, without his
sanction. The king, there is every reason to believe, followed
thebad fashion brought in from France at the Restoration, of
sellingcourt places.^ This mode Rachel lady Russell either
could not, or would not, understand queen Mary was too :
diplomatic to enter into full explanation, and the lady sought

other means of making more powerful interest. For this
purpose she applied to archbishop Tillotson, whose answer
' London Spy, 1699. ' See Bulwer'8 Artificial Changeling.

• According to Evelyn, king William ordered Marlborougli, on his dismissal,
to sell his court places directly. It is pretty certain he had never bought them.
VOL. VII. C C
; ;
\
38G MARY II.
gives some view of the queen at this period of her reign.

"On Sunday morning, August 1, 1692," wrote the arch-
bishop to lady Russell, " I gave yours to the queen, tellino;
her that I was afraid it came too late. She said, * Perhaps
not.* Yesterday, meeting the queen at a christening, she
gave methe inclosed to send to your ladyship, and if I could
but obtain of your severe judgment to wink at my vanity, I
would tell you how this happened. My lady-marchioness
of Winchester being lately delivered of a son, spake to the
queen to stand godmother; and the queen asking 'whom
she thought of for godfathers ?* she said, ' only the earl of
Bath, and whatever others her majesty might please to
name.' They agreed on me, which was a great surprise to
me, but I doubt not a gracious contrivance of her majesty
to let the world know that I have her countenance and sup-
port. If it please God to preserve my good ma^t^r [Wil-
liam III.] and grant him success, I have nothing to wish in
this world but that God would grant children to this excel-
lent prince, and that I, who am said not to be baptized myself,
may have the honour to baptize a prince of Wales. With
God, to whose wisdom and goodness we must submit every
thing, this is not impossible. To his protection and l)lessing
I commend your ladyship and hopeful children. Reading
over what I have written, puts me in mind of one who, when
he was in drink, always went and showed himself to his best
|i;i
friends; but your ladyship knows how to forgive a little
folly to one, so entirely devoted to your service as is,
honoured madam,
" Your obliged and humble servant,
11 "Jo. Cant."'
The was not with drink, accord-
elation of the archbishop
ing to his somewhat unclerical jest above quoted; but he
had just felt himself in secure possession of the see of
Canterbury, and had not yet experienced the thorns that
lined his archiepiscopal mitre. It is a curious circumstance,
that, in connexion with this incident, he should name one of
• Birch's Life of Tillotson, cxxi. Works, vol. i.
m
— ;!
'
(
MAIIV II. 887
the great objections urged agsiinst his primacy by tlie non-

juring church, —that he
had never been baptized, at least
according to the ritual of the church of England. The fact
remains dubious, for he docs not clear the point, since irony
is not assertion. The report that Tillotson had never been
baptized, gave rise to a bitter Latin epigram,' which has thus
been paraphrased by some Jacobite :
" EpITAPHIUM EcCLESI.K ANOLICANiE.

" Hie jacet Ecclesia Anglicana,
Semi mortua, semi sepulta," &<!.
" Here lies the widowed Aiigliciin church,
Half buried, half dead, and left in the lurch
Oh, sick and sorrowful English church !
You weep and wail and sadly search.

To hide from the iniK'king enemy.
The utter shame of your misery.
Let not Rome know.
The depths of your woe,
By fanatics bit, from the land of fopp
Defiled and choked by a plague of frogs.
Oh, sorrowing, wretched Anglican church
Speak not of your Head or Archbishop ;
For that schismatic primate and Hollander king
!"
Are still in want of christening
The truth of this epigram aggravates its sting. The religion

of William III. —that of the Dutch dissenters, is utterly bare
of all He was never baptized in Holland, and he cer-
rites.
tainly was not in England. His first compliance with the

rites of the church of England was, by communicating at
the the chapel at St. James's-palace in the winter of
altar of
1688, while the convention was debating his election to the
throne. His hatred to the English church, and his irreve-
rence during divine service, have been recorded by Dr.
Hooper, and even by his admirer, Tindal.^
The extraordinary burglary which had been committed
about eighteen months previously, in that division of the
royal dwelling-rooms called the queen^s side, at the palace
of Whitehall, had probably some connexion with the order iilt^!\i
of council issued by the queen during her regnal government

in the autumn of 1692. The robbers of royalty were never
> Cole's MSS. : British Museum.
*'
Tindal's Continuation of Rapin.
!l.
c c 3
Hi MAUY II.
1 ii
discovfirerf, nr-ither were the perpetrators of the following
i* I
MÔl'ilogcs which \\a.i\ preceded the daring escalade of the

queen's dressing-rooni "Whereas there was a robbery
comniitted in the collegiate church of Westraiu^tor, the OOth
of Deceinber, 10S9; two large silver candlesticks, throe suits
of rich velvets frvJ^êd with gold, for the communion-table
and altar, three dumask table-cloths, the covers of the great
i& Bible and Prayer-book." There is no reward oft'orcd for the
discovery by the government, but pardon is offered, if within

fiv
forty days any accomplice declared his instigators.'
Queen Mary, on the 13th of September, 1692, issued that
remarkable edict by proclamation, offering " 40/ pey nd 'i
for the apprehension and conviction of any burglar a- < i
wayraan."* The queen was singularly unfoitanate in all

her legislation by proclamation. The above reward, which
speedily obtained the portentous appellation of "blood-
money," acting in woful conjunction with her husband's
enthusiastic recommendations " for the better encourage-
W'U
ment of distilling spirits from malt,"^ completed the demo-
ralization of her most miserable people. If a premium be
offered for the prv action of any article, be sure an abundant
1
supply will forthwith ensue; and, to the consternation of

humanity, this " blood-money " speedily occasioned a terrific
number of convictions and executions, while, at the same
time, the evil the queen meant it to suppress, increased at
the rate of a hundred per cent. The most dreadful effects

of her mistake in legislation'' unfortunately continued in
> The dean and chapter offered 1001. reward. Qazetta, 1689, Jan.
*Tindal's Continuation of Rapin, p. 93, vol. i.
* The MS. Journals of the House of Lord' 'libvnry of E. C. Davey, esq.,
Grove, Yoxford) repeatodly mention, in the yi... .

'.' iî nid 1693, the visits of
William III. to the houbo for this unwise pr p *.-, • ' fudging, V "
3j we
firmly believe the worst of our native sovei uu lave died ratlier tlmn
enforce. The king's personal tastes, and liis desire to induce the cousuniption of
a taxable article, were the causes of this conduct.
* Lord Mohun's History of England from the Peace of Utrecht enters into
the statistics of crime in this woful century with rectitude of purpose and powtr
of ability. The date of his era did not enable him to trace the cause of the evil
of M'od-money to its origin, but those who wish to see its results in the course
0*^ n, quarter of a century, will do well to read his account of the Fleet and other
piisons in tho /.>ign of George I., who is not in the least accountable for abuses
nrhich exist* '.
before his reign.
/
MARY II. 389
active operation for almost a century after her death, and how
long would have scouri-f'd and dtilcrioratcd the English is
it
unknown, if the pow.^-f'.'.l pcim of Gay, Swift, and Fielding

had not drawn some att. 'tion, in rourse of years, to th(;
i i (
horrid tralHe carried on hy the tliief-takers, tlioir informers,
and the gaolers, all acting under he fatal stimidus <»l Idood-
raoney. Thus the evil received some cheek; yet no one
seems to have reasoned on its enormities until the end of
'e last century,' for it was scarcely subdued until the esta-
oilsiuaent of the present police. A long retrospect of human

calamity is thus opened up to one terrific error in le«i:islation,
emanating from an order in council, authorized by Mary II.

in her capacity of queen-regent and queen -regnant. It
must have been carried against her own private conviction
of its folly and mischievous tendency. The same vigorous
reasoning power which led her to plead earnestly a^ ith her
cruel husband to bestow the Irish confiscations for the pur-
pose of erecting and endowing schools over that mis Table
country, must have brought her to the conclusion that
blood-money, treacherous gaolers, and thief-takers acting in
unison, with a prison discipline formed after the nearest idea
of the dread place of future perdition, were not likely to
cure her people of crime. Mary ought to have made firm

resistance against the edict, and if she found her cabinet
council contumacious, she ought to have referred it to par-
liament, where its consequences might have met with tiie
free discussion of many minds.
Much of the crime and sorrow of the present day, and,
indeed, the greatest national misfortune that ever befell this
country, originated from the example given by William III.
and his Dutch courtiers as imbibers of ardent spirits.
In
fact, the laws of England, from an early period, sternly
prohibited the conversion of malt into alcohol, excepting a

small portion for medicinal purposes.'' Queen Elizabeth (and
the act, it is said, originated from her own virtue of tem-
' Colquhoun on Crime.

' St( ••ve's London. Statutes at Large; British Museum. The law is in the 'it I
drollest ooôn cluglish, upp«arlii{{ among the Norman-French law dialect.
;
IT
390 MARY II.
•'(;:
perance) strictly enforced this statute, and treated the in-

fringement of it as a and those were the
moral dereliction ;
times when breaking laws made for the health and happiness
of the people were not visited by fines, which were easily
spared from fraudulent Mammon profits, but by personal
infliction on the delinquents. The consummation of all
injury to the people, was the encouragement that king Wil-
liam III. was pleased to give to the newly-born manufac-
tories of spirituous liquors. Strange it is, after noting suet:
stringent laws against converting food into "fire-water,"

that a sovereign of Great Britain could come repeatedly to
5'
his senate for the purpose of earnestly recommending to
legislators its encouragement ;
yet this respectable request of
royalty stares the reader in the face in manuscript journals
of parliament.^ What would have been said of James I., if,
in addition to his worst fault, that of intemperance, he had

pursued a similar course of proceeding?
The alteration of the wise restrictive law of Elizabeth was
not done in ignorance; more than one noted literary character
belonging to church or law remonstrated. These are the
words of Whiston :
—
" An act of parliament has abrogated a
very good law for discouraging the poor from drinking gin
nay, they have in reality encouraged them to drunkenness,
and to the murder of themselves by such drinking. Judge
Hale earnestly supported the restrictive law, and opposed its
abrogation, declaring that millions of persons would kill
themselves by these fatal liquors." The prediction of the
legal sage has indeed been fearfully verified, owing to the
acts of this unpaternal reign. ^ It is, perhaps, the most
urgent duty of a regal biographer to trace the effects of laws
emanating from the sovereign in person, orders of council, —
for instance, where a monarch hears and even partakes in
the discussion, and perforce must be instrumental towards
the accomplishment of any enactment. Had Mary made so
little progress in the high science of statistical wisdom as
' MS. Journals of tlie House of Lords, in the library of E. C. Davey, esq.,
Grove, Yoxford.
' Whiston's Auto-biograpliy.
i "
^1 rf
MAllY II. 391
not to trace the cause she instituted to its future tremen-

dou2 efiFects ? * Yet her letters prove that her intellect was
brilliant.
Such were the fruits of the enactment of an unpatemal

government, where men were
looked upon as likely to afford
" food for powder " as probable recruits, rather than worthy
members of^ciety. What with the temptations of the

newly permitted gin-shops; the temptations of the thief-
takers, what
(themselves stimulated by rewards for blood) ;
mth the mental bewilderment produced by the wrangling of

polemic-preachers on the " sinful nature of good works," and
the angry jealousy of the revolutionary government regard-
ing the influence of the reformed catholic church on the

minds of the poor, the populace of England, wheresoever
they were congregated in towns, were steeped to the very lips
in and misery. Executions under the reward-conviction
guilt
system, which soon was supported by parUament, often
amounted to forty victims per month for London only ; and
when the most dreadful revelations took place of gangs of
miscreants congregated for the purposes of obtaining the
blood-rewards by the denouncement of innocent persons,
liberal as the law was in dispensation of death, no commen-
surate punishment whatsoever was found on the statute-book

for those who had been murderers by wholesale by false
The reward known as ' blood-money,' gave rise to an organized crew of

'
human fiends called thief- takers the plan followed by these villains was, for one
:
of them, under the semblance of a professional robber, to entice two persons to
join him in robbing one of his confederates ; which confederate, taking care that
the instigator should escape, apprehended the two dupes, and having his evidence
supported by another of the gang who had managed to purchase some of the
property of which the party in the plot had been robbed, found all in train for
successful conviction of the two tempted wretches, whose death secured the pay-
ment of the queen's reward. When they received this liorrid donation, the
confederates divided the spoil at an entertainment, which went among tlie asso-
ciation by the significant name of " the blood-feast." Fearful it is to relate that,
emboldened by the prosperous working of this trade, the thief-takers often dis-
pensed with the dangerous machinery of dra^ving in dupes, and boldly swore
iiway the lives, of totally innocent people, who were the victims of this dreadful
confederacy without tlie slightest participation in any robbery. A captain of one

of these gangs, called .Jonathan Wild, when the measure of his inquity was full,
E. C. Davey, esq.,
put in a paper at his trial stating his good services, as he had been rewarded for
the hanging of sixty-seven liighwaymen and returned convicts —
'
Knigut's
London, Maitlaiid's London, and Colquhoun on Crime.
392 MARY II.
witness. As if to make the matter worse, the cruel legisla-
ture put the traffickers in human life in the pillory, where

they were atrociously immolated by the mob. Proper repro-
bation cannot be given to wicked laws that make crime pro-
fitable to a vast number of persons, without pointing out the
frightful duration of such laws. Notwithstanding many ap-
palling public exposures of the murderous traffic of false M'it-
nesses from the time when Mary II. instituted the blood
rewards, h( r grievous system lasted till the recent days of
1816.* Many dissertations have been written on these direful
fl-Ti
proceedings, all replete with fearful interest ;
yet the task of
tracing up the source of sorrow to her cruel enactments has
never entered the idea of statistic writers. But to mark the
awful point of the year, the hour, and the day when the Avoe
first arose, is an act of historical justice. Much •
the
sorrow and crime of our present era may be traced to the
calamitous acts of legislation by which William III. encou-
raged gin distilling, and his queen instituted blood-money.^
To court popularity with the English, king William, more-
over, did all in his power to depress the industry of the
• The whole system was swept away in 1816, according to Knight's London,
p. 233, vol. iv. The evidence of the good poUceman, Townshend, is wortli read-
ing on this head. Some traces of the direful system still work woe in our distant
convict colonies. See the works of captain Maconochie.
* Captain Maconochie, whose late government of Norfolk Island has drawn so
much public attention, thus expresses himself in his first work on "Penal
Science," as he aptly calls that knowledge which is best worthy of the attention
of a paternal legislature. When speaking of one of his measures, wliich he found
most eifectual in the cure of crime, he says, " It will give each man a direct con-
cern in the good conduct of his fellows, a highly advantageous circumstance,
associating all with the government in the maintenance of discipline instead of,
as now too frequently occurs, an interest in encouraging, ami stihsequently
revealing the crimes of others, —
a most detestable feature in the present
system," Thus it seems that the mistakes or perversities of the edict emanating
from the government of Mary II. and her cabinet, Sept. 13, 1692, are still
bringing forth bad fruit. The following observations, quoted by the same work,
were probably written in illustration of this fatal act of council " To set a price
:
on the head of a criminal, or otherwise on a great scale to reward the informa-

tion of accomplices, is the strongest proiaf of a weak or unwise government.
Such an edict confounds the ideas of virtue and morality, at all times too waver-
ing in the mind of man. It encourages treachery, and to prevent one crime,
gives birth to a thousand. Such are the expedients of weak and ignorant
nations, whose laws are like temporary repairs to a tottering fabric,"—Austra-
iiana, p. 73, by Captain Maconochie, b.n., k.h.
MARY II. 393
Irish, and by that means ruined a number of the most

worthy of that portion of his subjects. " I shall," said he,
in his speech to the English commons on the 21st of
July, 1698, "do all that in me lies to discourage the
woollen manufactures of Ireland." * Alas, poor Ireland !
crushed in her virtuous efforts for employing her starving

population by the unpaternal foreigner who had been en-
trusted with the sovereignty of the British empire, dearly
and deeply have her children cause to rue the success of
WiUiam's ruthless determination to inflict evils, for which
wiser and better rulers are anxiously seeking to provide
remedies.
King William returned to England, September the 29th,
having, as usual, lost a bloody and hard-contested battle,
and two or three towns in Flanders, the earth of which
country was in his reign literally saturated with British
blood. The last battle this year was that of Steinkirk,
only now remembered on account of an obsolete fashion,
which prevailed as much in the capital of the English as
in that of the victorious French. One of the young princes
of the blood in the French army tied his Mechlin-lace cravat
m a hurry carelessly round his neck like a scarf, with long
ends. This mode became universal, and king William,
although vanquished, wore it till his dying day. It mattered
little who lost, or who won in Flanders a certain ; quantity
of human blood was shed very formally on that fighting
ground every campaign by the regimental sovereigns William
and Louis, until the wealth of both their states was ex-
hausted. The great body of the people in each country were
wofuUy and miserably taxed to sustain the warlike game,
realizing the clever observation of Louis, when discussing the
termination of the war :
" Ah " the last guinea
!" said he,
will carry the victory." The fleets of England would have

been quite suflicient for the defence of this country, but they
were miserably neglected, although it seemed more natural
for a Dutchman to understand and practise marine warfare.
* Dr. Fiajfair's Family Antiquities ; Ireland.

391. MARY II.
Directly the kinfj; arrived, liis brotlicr-iri-law, tlie prince

(leorjije of Deiiinurk, nimi liiiii, in the phraseology of the
day, *a compliment,' which was, in truth, little otherwise
than a complaint of the qnec^n's behaviour, nayinj,', " that
his wife and himsc'lf, having had the misfortune to receive
many public marks of her majesty's disphâsure, thcrcifoic
he did not know wluither it were; propiT for him to wait on
his nuijesty as usual." Neither the king nor the (pieen
'
took other notice of this iru^ssagc; than sending an ordcn to

Dr. Birch, the ehirgyman of the newly-built church of St.
James's, which was attended by the prinee.Hs Amie, for-
bidding him from having the text placed in her p(!w ou
her cushion. The doctor was a ])articuiar partisan of tlie
princess Atnu;, and refused to deprive her of such a triflin}?
mark of distinction without he had a written order for that

purpose. Their majesties declined sending such i (loeu-
ment, and the princess, thanks to the nffectiou of Dr.
Birch, remained every Suiulay in triumphant possession
of her t^'xt at St. James's church. Dr. Hooper had set
the example of resisting all attempts to deprive the ])rincoss
of the distinctions of her rank, when she attended divine

service in the wesc of England.
Not a vestige at present remains of the once-magnificent
iminsicm where the princess Anne retired from the wrath
of her and her sister's spouse, and kept her little
sister
court apart when banished by them from the court of
Ihigland. Berkeley-house was in the neighbourhood of
Berkeley-square, to which it gave its luime. it has long ago
been destroyed by fire. In ancient times there was a farm
on this place, abutting on Ilyde-park, known l)y the i)retty
pastoral name of Ilay-hill Farm, noted in history as the spot

where the severest struggle took place in the insurrection led
by Wyatt, and where his head was set up on a pole after his
execution. This farm fell into the possession of lord John

Berkeley, who built on it a stately mansion, and laid ont
the Ilay-nill Farm in ornamental grounds pertaining to it.
' Conduct of the Duehoss of Marlboi'ouo'liii= lOU,
MAIIV II. 395
Bcrkelcy-houHC is said to have hvxm, in the days of queen
Mary, the house in riocadilly.'

hiat
The return of kin<; William in safety was celebrated hy a

thaid^sîvin}; on the lOth of November, and by a {^rand civic
(liinier at (Juildhall, which their majesties attend(!d in per-
son. The enormous taxes necessary to be raised to meet

the expenses of the next Flanders campaign, after all the
disastrous losses kinj^ William had sustained, made atten-
tion to tbe citi/xms requisite;. The queen likewise dined in
state witli the kiuf? at the new armoury at the Tower, since
destroyed ])y fire. It liad been commenced by her father.
A splendid banquet was laid out in the j^rcat room, then con-
sidercul the lurjêst in ]!luroj)e. Tim royal pair were waited
upon by the nuister-arehitects and their workmen in masonic
costume, with white aprons and gloves.'^
The Jacobite war was virtually concluded
an eflicient navy, ;
appointed and supi)lied by honest

would have been ministers,
alone sulficicnt to guard the coasts of Great Britain from
insult and to protect commerce. Very far was tbe intention
of king William from pursuing a line of policy consistent
with the vital interests of England. His object was to obtain

'
Evdyii says, in AugiiHt 1072, " I dined witli lord .Tolm Hnrkoley in his new
liousn, or riitlier i)idu(!c, for 1 am iiHHured it cost liini 30,000<. It \a very well
built, and hius nmuy noble but tluy are not convenient, conHisting but of
riH)nis,
one corps de fotfi.i dreswng or retiring r(K)in J. The stiiirciise is

witliout clos<4s, [
of cedar, the furniture is princely, the kitclieii and Htables ill-i)la(;ed, and the cor-
ridor even worse, having no report to the wings tliey join to. For the rest, tlie
fore-court is noble, so are the stables, and above all the gardens, which are iu-
(•om])arable, by reason of the in(!(|uality of the ground, and the pretty piscina."
This, in plaiji English, is a fishpond, which has probably been long filled up ; but
the ground still makes Herkcley-square and its neighl)ourhood

inequality of the
tlipmost picturescpie spot in the unpic^turesfjue beau-monde of our metropolis.
A terrace extended along the ridge of the hill. " The holly hedges on that
terruce," continues Evelyn, " I lulvised the planting of j the porticoes are in
imitation of a house described by Palladio, the very worst in the b(X)k, though
my good friend, Mr. Hugh May, was the architect." Such were the now-
departed glories of Herkeley-house. The site of its grounds and dependencies
extended from Devonsliire-liouse to Cur/on- street, and the Hay-hill Farm is to
be traced in the present appellations of the adjacent streets, as Hill-street, Farm-
street,besides the historical street of Hay-hill, which were all ai)i)ertaining to
the old farm, and were tbe grounds of the mansion which gave name to the pre-
sent Berkeley-square.
* TiMjno's (Ibroiiologltivl History.
396 MARY II.
funds to maintain a great army in Flanders, where every year

he lost a sharply contested bfittle, where the enormous sums
raised by unprecedented taxation in England were expended,
—
and never circulated hack again, a calamity which is, per-
haps a just punishment on insular kingdoms maintaining
foreign armies. The feudal laws, with their forty days'
military service, had provided, not without some statistic
wisdom, against such injurious effects on national prosperity.
The queen's attention to business during her regencies,
and her natural feelings as an Englishwoman, might have
led her to protect the interests of her country; she was,
notwithstanding, zealous in her exertions to appropriate all
she could raise by taxation to the maintenance of that foreign

warfare which was the sole passion of her husband's life.
When William was in England, she seemed wholly occupied
in needle-work and knotting. Her panegyrists mention
that she was oftener seen with a skein of thread about her
neck, than attending to affairs of state. Sorry praise is this
for a queen-regnant yet it had the good effect of inducing
;
harmless employment among the ladies of her court, and, of

course, conduced to the encouragement of industry among
her female subjects of the imitative middle classes. " Her
r majesty," says a contemporary,' " did not disdain to busy
her royal hands with making of fringes, or knotting, as it
was then called. She was soon imitated, not only by her
maids of honour, but by all ladies of distinction throughout
the kingdom, and so fashionable was labour of a sudden
grown, that not only assembly-rooms and visiting [dra^dng]
—
rooms, but the streets, the roads, nay, the ^ê:^v playhouses
were witnesses of their pretty industry It was considered
a wonder that the churches escaped." The wonder was the

greater, because the Dutch and German ladies of the era
always took their knitting to sermons. It were pity that
queen Mary, when she made this handicraft the rage, had
not introduced the construction of something useful or
beautiful. Some of the knotted fringe made after the royal
* Tindal's Continuation.
; ;
MARY II. 397
example survives to the present day, in a vast old Japan

chest well known to the author. It is made of white flax
thread, and is as ugly, heavy, and tasteless an artiele as can
be imagined. The eontemporary who relates the circum-
atance, breaks into enthusiastic encomiums on this " pretty
industry," and likewise informs us that her majesty, " resolv-
ing as much as in her lay to strike at the very root of vice
and idleness, encouraged the setting up of a linen manufac-
ture, in which many thousands of poor people were em-
ployed." '
It would have been only just to the memory of
Mary II. if the place uiid particulars of this right royal
work had been pointed out, in order that she might receive
equal credit with her great ancestress, queen Philippa. But
Mary II. must have lavished her kindness " on many thou-
sands of most ungrateful linen weavers," who have forgotten
it in a very short time.
Those who have read queen Mary's letters, and noticed
her almost agonizing struggle to obtain command of her
countenance, will have a clue to her devotion to the useless
industry of knotting fringe ; the eyes that were fixed on the
shuttle, could not betray the inward emotions of the soul to
watchful bystanders. The sedulous attention of the queen
to the production of "thread fringe" is satirized in the
verses of sir Charles Sedley, who combines in the little poem
a much severer sarcasm on the expensive and disastrous
Flemish campaigns of her husband.
" Oh, happy people, ye must thrive.
While thus the royal pair does strive
Both to advance your glory
Wliile he by his valour conquers France,
She manuftictures does advance.
And makes thread fringes for ye.
Blest we, who from such queens are freed,*
Who, by vain superstition led.
Are always telling beads
But here's a queen now, thanks to God,
Who, when she rides in coach abroad.
Is always knotting threads.
• Tindal's Continuation, p. 66.
' Catharine of Braganza and Mary Beatrice of Modena. These lines were, it
is probable, written just after queen Catharine retiimed to Portugal.
; —
398 MARY II.
Then haste, victorious Nassau, haste.

And when thy summer show is past, \
Let all thy trumixjts sound

The fringio that this campaign lias wrought.
Though it cost the nation but a groat.
Thy conquests will surround."
Itis easy to gather from these lines, and from some others
on the wars of William III., that the witty sir Charles

Sedley was no friend to the Dutch hero. He celebrated
:".
his return to England, in 1793, with another epigram :
" The author, sure, must take great pains.

Who fairly writes the story,
In which of these two last campaigns.
Was gained the greatest glory.
For while he marched on to fight,
Like hero nothing fearing,
Namur was taken in his sight.
And Mons within his hearhig."
Sir Charles Sedley was at this period one of the courtiers

at Berkeley-house; he was no Jacobite, for he was full of
s'
indignation at the insult offered to his honour by James II. 's
h
,
I.
t
seduction of his daughter. James II. had, in the opinion
,
; ,
of the outraged gentleman, made his wrong still more noto-

rious,by creating Catharine Sedley countess of Dorchester.
Sir Charles Sedley became one of the most earnest pro-
moters of the Revolution ; and after queen Mary was on the
throne, he said, " I have now returned the obligation I owed
to king James. He made my
daughter a countess ; I have
helped to make his daughter a queen."
Queen Mary seemed destined to be the object of the re-
partees of the Sedley family. This countess of Dorchester,
who appears to have been a lady of the bedchamber at the
Revolution, on its successful completion had the audacity

to come to court, and present herself before the queen when
she held her first drawing-room. Her majesty turned away
her head, as if offended at her intrusion, on which the hold
woman exclaimed, — " Why
so haughty, madam? I have
not sinned more notoriously in breaking the seventh com-
mandment with your father, than you have done in breaking
the fifth against him." Lady Dorchester had just been
;
MARY II. 399
concerned in the Jacobite plot of Preston and Asht' on

account of which the queen had shed some blood, ana nad
kept her elder uncle in prison. Lady Dorchester contrived
to all bad consequences, and even dared defy her
escape
majesty, whose displeasure was merely occasioned by the
political sins of the bold woman, for king William obliged
her not only to receive, but to live with a woman as noto-

riously evil. The queen, for some reason best known to
herself, suffered lady Dorchester to intrude her speeches
upon her regarding matters of taste. Her majesty wished to
rival her uncle's Lely room of beauties at Hampton-Court
but her artist, Kneller, who could paint a plain man in an

ugly wig, or a masculine woman in whalebone armour and
a cornette cap, with was no hand at a
startling verity,
beauty. The costume was were grim,
tasteless, the ladies
the artist truthful; consequently, queen Mary's "beauty-

room was a failure throughout. The duchess of Somerset,
whose ardent ringlets are really marvels of art, is absolutely
the belle of the collection. Worse results ensued than the
perpetrating of a score of plain portraits. There are always
handsome women at an English court, and the real beauties
were almost in a state of insurrection, because the queen
had given the palm of loveliness to her frights. The queen
was surprised at her sudden unpopularity with the female
nobility, and lady Dorchester spoke her oracular opinion
on the measure :
" Madam," she said, " were his majesty
to order portraits of all the clever men in his dominions,
would not the rest consider themselves treated as block-
heads? ">
At the same Christmas occur some notices illustrative
of Anne's residence at Berkeley-house, in a witty address
to the bellman of St. James's, written by some Jacobite,
concerning a series of squibs, casting ridicule on tlie frequent

arrests of her subjects, which were ordered by Mary II.
during the years of Anne's retirement from court.
• Cole MSS., Brit. Mus. There is the same incident, with little variation, in
the Tour of a German Artist in England, vol, i, p= 95=
400 M^VRY II.
"the BbLLHAN OV PlOOADlI.IiY'8 VeBSES TO THB PbiNCBSS

Anme op Denmark.' ,
" Welcome, great princess to this lowly place,

!
Where injured loyalty must hide its face

Your praise each day by every man is sung,
And in the night by me shall hero be rung.
God bless our queen and yet I may, moreover,
!
Own you our queen in Berkeley-street and Dover :
M: May your great prince and you live numerous years

This is the subject of our loyal prayers."
Appended to these verses is the following droll parody on

queen Mary's orders in council, during her long suspension
of the habeas corpus act " The earl of Nottingham's orders
:
to Mr. Dives, late clerk of the council, were as follows Ye :
are to take a messenger, and to find out the dwelling-house

of the bellman of Piccadilly ; and when you ineet with him,
search his fur cap, his night-cap, and above r.li his bell, and
whatever verses you find upon him you are to bring to me.
You are privately to acquaint him, if he never heard of it,
with the reasons of her majesty's displeasure with the prin-
cess, of which I hercAvith give you an account in writing.
Ye are to charge him, on pain of forfeiture of his employ-
ment, that he do not proceed l.o sing such verses about
those streets without our licence. Ye ai'e to charge him not
to pay the ceremony to the princess, in his night-walk, as
he usually does to the rest of their majesties' subjects that
are not under their majesties' displeasure. Ye are to charge
him to take care of thieves and robbers, but to waive that
part of his duty to the princess; for since her guards are
taken off, she is neither to be regarded by day, or guarded
by night. Any one is to rob her who may choose to be at
the trouble. Ye are to acquaint him that his majesty's dis-
pleasure is so great against the princess, that his government
designs to «top her revenues, and starve her, as well as many
other Jacobites, into humble submission. Ye are to go from
him to Dr. Birch, and charge him to introduce no cere-
monies of bowing, as he will answer to his grace of Lambeth,
(it being contrary to his [archbishop Tillotson's] education).
* Collection of popular Songs, for the earl of Oxford ; Lansdowne Papers.
MARY II. 401
Lastly, you are to acquaint both tlic bellman and the parson
that her majesty expects exact compliance, as a mark of
their duty ; but as for waits, fiddlers, and others, her orders
are sent to Killigrew about tiiem." ' There are one or two
points in this jeu-d'tsprit that have reference to circum-
stances on which this biography has previously dwelt.
"That the princess is neither to be regarded by day, or
guarded by night," and "that any one may rob her,"
alludes to the highway robbery, either real or pretended,
she had suffered the preceding spring, when travelling from
London to Sion, after the malice of her brother-in-law had
deprived her of her guards. And as for the evil report at
Lambeth, to be made of Dr. Birch for his bowings at St.
James's, he is threatened with the anger of Dr. Tillotson,
because that archbishop, when a presbyterian, had not been
used to any church ceremonial.
A settled, but more quiet hostility was now established
between the royal sisters during the remainder of queen
Mary's life. The princess Anne, divested of every mark of
her royal rank, continued to live at Berkeley-house, where
she and her favourite amused themselves with superintend-
ing their nurseries, playing at cards, and talking treason

against queen Mary and her Dutch Caliban/ as they called
*
the hero of Nassau. Lady Marlborough wrote all the news

she could glean to the court of St. Germains, where her
sister, lady Tyrconnel, the once-beautiful Frances Jennings,
was resident. Lady Tyrconnel gossiped back all the Intel-
ligence she could gather at the exiled court. The letters of
Marlborough himself were more actively and deliberately
mischievous. He sent word to the exiled king all the pro-
fessional information he could betray. But, in most in-
stances, James II., in utter distrust of his falsehood, refused
to act on his intelligence. He well knew that the exaltation
of his grandson, the young duke of Gloucester, and not the
' Lansdowne Papers, p. 73, No. 852. The date given

Harley's Collections,
here is 1690, but tliis must be an error of the transcriber, since Anne herself
distinctly points out the day, in 1692, when she first treated for that residence.
QiatCAO jJUUlii; All XU%7U«
VOL. VII. D D **
—
403 MAUY ir.
restoration of tho prince of Wales, was the object of the

party at IJcrkclcy -house.
England was once more placed under the regnal sway of
the queen, in March 1G93. As the king meant to embark
for Holland from Margate, he requested her majesty to bear
hira company to the coast. When they arrived at Murgutc,
WW the wind turned contrary, on which the king chose to wait
at Canterbury till it was fair. The queen, who meant to
have returned that night to London, resolved to go there
with him ; " for," adds the Hooper manuscript, " the king's
request was too high a favour to be refused. Thougli her
majesty had no other attendance than lady Derby and Mrs.
Compton, who were in the coach with her and the king, the
royal party drove to the largest house in the city. Tlie
mansion was owned," says our authority,' " by a hidy of
great birth and equal merit, but by no means 5\i admirer
of the king. She had received notice of the approach of
the king and queen, and she not only fled from her house,
but locked up or carried off every possible convenience there.
All was wanting that could make the house habitable.

Queen Mary said to her vice-chamberlain, who was one of
the representatives of Canterbury in parliament, ' Look
about anywhere for a house, for I must remove from this to
pass the night.' Mr. Sayers told her majesty, that he be-
lieved ' the deanery was the next largest house in Canter-
bury.' ' Oh,'
said the queen, * that is Dr. Hooper's. AVhy
did not I think of it before ? I will go there.' " Iler
majesty actually arrived at the deanery before fires could
be lighted, or the least preparation made for her; but

there she stayed some days, and passed the Sunday at Can-
terbury after the king had sailed from Margate. Dean

Hooper was then at his living of Lambeth, and did not
hear that her majesty had been at his house until it was too
late togo down.

The queen returned to London, and directly she arrived
» Hooper MS., printed in Trevor's William III*., vol. ii. p. 474- There is no
date, but as other authors maintain the king was baflled by the wind, ami
returned from Margate this spring, it was probably 1693.
;
MARY IT. 403
(lean Tloopor waited on lier, to excuse liimsclf for not being

at the deanery to entertain her majesty, who thus gave him
an account of her sojourn under roof: " It
was impos-
liis
sible/' she said, " that you sliouhl know I was there. Yours
is the clean I st house I ever was in ; and there is a good old
woman there, with whom
had a great deal of discourse.
I
The people were very solicitous to sec me but there grew ;
a great walnut-tree before the windows, which were, besides,
so high, that I could not gratify them." This little trait

casts some light on Mary's inclinations. Her majesty con-
tinued the description of her sojourn at the deanery "I :
went to Canterbury cathedral in the morning, and lieard an

excellent sermon from Dr. Battely, (once chaplain to arch-
bishop In the afternoon I went to a parish
Sancroft).
church, where I heard a very good sermon by Dr. Cook
but," added the queen, " I thought myself in a Dutch ;1
church, for the people stood upon the communion-table to

look at me." Dean Hooper told the queen " that she had
^
condemned the walnut-tree and the windows at the dean-

ery," her majesty intimated " that she should come
for
again toCanterbury on the like occasion." She never did
so; yet dean Hooper gave orders to sash the antique win-
dows, and cut down the walnut-tree. " Some little time
after the visit of queen Mary to the deanery at Canterbury,
the queen sent for dean Hooper again, and led him to her
dressing-room, where she sliowed him some pieces of silver
stuiFs and purple-flowered velvets. These, her majesty told
him, if he approved,' she would give to Canterbury ca-
'
thedral, as she observed the furniture to be dirty; but as
there was not enough of the figured velvet, she had sent to
Holland to match it.' The queen, when all was ready,

despatched to the cathedral a page of her backstairs, who
always arranged matters regarding her gifts, with the rich
velvets. The altar at the cathedral was furnished with the
figured velvet, and a breadth of the gold stuff, flowered
with silver, let in. The archbishop's throne was covered
• Hooper MS., vol. ii. p. 476.
D D 2
. '
i'f'
404 MARY II.
with plain velvetthe fringe for the whole was a rufted one
:
of gold, and purple it alone cost the queen 500/."

silver, ;
The queen was considered as the protectress of public

morals, which were, indeed, at the lowest ebb. In that
capacity she exerted herself to suppress an offensive exiii-
bition Southwark fair, representing the great earth-

at
; I
quake which subverted Port Royal, in Jamaica,^ a con- —

vulsion of nature which was alarmingly felt all over the
continent of Europe, and ca en in London. It had, withal,
nearly cost king William his life,^ he being then in his
camp at Flanders at dinner in an old deserted house, which
shook fearfully before his majesty could be induced to rise
It and quit it, and fell directly he issued from under its roof.
Yet queen Mary, in her attempted reforms among the lower
B*'-
classes, was far from successfid. The reason was, as Dr.
Johnson observes, " she was not consistent, because slie
m' was a frequenter of the theatre of that day, and a witness
of its horrible profaneness."'* Certain it is, that " the idle
and vicious mock-show of the ewthquake," as it is called by

a contemporary,^ "was not replete with a thousandth part
of the vice coolly exhibited in the atrocious comedies of her
era, of which she was the constant and delighted spectatress.
She never willingly omitted being present at the represen-
tation of theOld Bachelor, of Congreve, a preference which
obtained for her the honour of an elegy from the pen of
that dramatist at her death.^' But the author whom her
majesty honoured with her especial patronage, was an ill-
living and loathsome person, named Thomas Shadwell, a
suborner, deep in the iniquities of Oates's plot. The writ-
ings of this man were at once foul and talentless; his
memory only exists by the fact, that queen Mary deprived

Dryden of the laurcateship and bestowed it on Thomas
Shadwell. She did worse ; she went to see the plays of this
' Hooper MS., vol. ii. p. 476.
* An earthquake sank the town of Port Royal, in Jamaica, and destroyed 300C
persons, Sep. 8, 1602. — Evelyn, Toone, &c. The shock was felt in England.
* Life of Edmund Calamy.
* Johnson's Lives of the Poets. ' Evelyn.
—
MARY II. 405
odious author, and in most of them there was a passage of

adulation prepared for her. Thus, in the Volunteers, or
the Stockjobbers, one of the female characters observes,
" Would you have mc set my heart on one who may be lost
iu every leucontre?" She is answered by her lover, who

offers the example of queen Mary, in these words, " Does
not our royal mistress do the same, and bear it with a

\
princely magnanimity? She and our country have the
greatest stake in Europe. She is to be reverenced and
admired; but hard it is to imitate so glorious an example,
and, methinks, a private lady may be happier." This is,
perhaps, the only passage which can be quoted out of the
last production of Mary's laureate. It is useless to aver
that the taste of her era was gross, for was it not her duty
to lead that taste, and to reform what was so deeply ob-
jectionable in it? Why could she not have "put down"

the vicious plays of Shadwell as well as the poor puppet-
show at Southwark fair,instead of encouraging them by
her royal presence? All the writers of her age did not
agree with her in this detestable predilection. Collier,
a nonjuring divine, who had been deprived of his benefice
at the same time that the queen ejected archbishop Sancroft,
represented to his country, in a well-known essay, the in-
famy into which the drama had and its bad effect on
fallen,
the happiness of the community.

In time his moral lessons
were heeded, but not by queen Mary, for Collier was " not
among her friends."
The same year, the queen ordered for her dramatic regale
the Double Dealer, one of Congreve's plays. The actor
Kynaston, who hadfigured on the theatre in her majesty's
youthful days, was now to perform before her as "lord
Touchwood." He was taken ill, and the notorious Colley
Gibber, then a stage-struck youth, who had only distin-
guished himself by his awkwardness, was permitted to per-
form the part in the presence of royalty. Her majesty
was received with a new prologue, written by Congreve, and
spoken bv Mrs. Barrv : two linRs nf it are preserved :
406 MARY II.
" But never were in Rome or Athens seen,

So fair a circle and so bright a queen."'
William III. usually bears the blame of persecuting Dryden,
and encouraging Shadwell; but the deed was done in his
absence, and he cannot be accountable for the tasteless pre-
ference, since it would be very difficult to prove that he ever
read an English book. The fact that Shadwell had been a
tool of Oates in his plot, was probably the cause of his
favour in the eyes of the Dutch monarch, since the only
literary persons he ever patronised were those implicated
with that perjurer, and the pensions and gifts bestowed on
them were apparently more from necessity than choice.
William and Mary were, like all monarchs whose resources
are consumed by foreign warfare, poor and parsimonious:
difficult would it be to discover any disbursement to a lite-
rary person, with the exception of Shadwell, their most

loathsome laureate. This person likewise received an ap-
pointment as one of their historiographers. On what he
founded his claims to be considered an historian we have
not discovered, but he wrote, besides his unseemly comedies,
a long panegyric in rhyme on the perfections of queen
Mary, and another on the success of king William in estab-
lishing the revolution in 1688.
Dryden felt himself more aggrieved at the transfer of his
laurel to so dishonourable a brow as that of Shadwell, than

at the loss of his pension he attributed both misfortunes
:
to the queen's hostility. He was old, sick, and poor, and de-
pendent on his pen for bread yet the queen condesceaded
;
to act as his personal enemy, by suborning writers to attack

his dramatic works. "About a fortnight ago," so Avrote
the unfortunate author to his publisher, Jacob Tonson,^ " I
had an intimation from a friendly letter, that one of the
secretaries (I suppose Trenchard) had informed the queen
' CoUey Gibber, who relates this anecdote in his Apology, says expressly, " tlie
queen came and was received." He does not mention that the "choir drama-
tique " were transferred to Wliitehall or St. James's, therefore it must be con-
cluded that she went to the public playhouse, called the Queen's, in Dorset Gardens,
—
Fleet-street. Apology of Colley Gibber, Bellchambers' edition, pp. 195, 196.
« Sir Walter Scott's Life of Dryden.
MARY II. 407
that I had abused lier government, —

these were the words
in and that thereupon she had
the epistle to lord Radcliffe ;
commanded her historiographer, Rymer, to fall upon my

plays, which he assures me he is now doing." A more
serious visitation of her majesty's displeasure awaited poor
Dryden, when, in the time of sickness and destitution, his
play of Cleoraenes, the Spartan Hero, was interdicted, on
account of its alleged Jacobite tendency. Had he written
on the subject of Agis, we may imagine that the daughter
of James II. might have dreaded the effects of an English
audience being led to form comparisons between her conduct
and that of the divine Chelidonis; but Cleomenes bears little
ose resources
reference to the relative situations of the parties, save that
Cleomenes with his faithful consort are in exile, and sup-
pliants to a foreign power for aid in their reverse of for-
tunes to deliver Sparta from a foreign yoke. Queen Mary,
however, who then exercised the whole functions of the
crown in the absence of William, commanded the lordcham-
berlain to prohibit the representation of the play. Dryden
addressed an agonizing appeal to the queen's maternal uncle,
the earl of Rochester. The daughters of this literary noble-
man, who were the first-cousins of her majesty, and great
admirers of Dryden's genius, likewise pleaded for him very
earnestly. The queen had taken these young ladies into
favour since their father had been induced to acknowledge
her title,and thus urged, her majesty took off her interdict.
Cleomenes was performed, but a very strong party was raised
against it by her majesty's court; and, though the purest of
all Dryden's productions, it scarcely lived out the nine nights
which were then requisite to make a play profitable to a
dramatic poet. On
queen Mary's side, it has been urged
that Dryden had previously provoked her by his prologue to
his former play of the Prophetess, in which he had ventured
to introduce some sarcastic allusions to the female regency,
the v ar in Ireland, and to reflect on the Revolution itself.
All this had given great offence to Mary, and she had
forbidd«?n its repetition.

> !
\m M.MJY II.
E i
with uuisio, siM\t Tor (ho ilhistrio\is llonrv Pinvoll luid llu^
r<n'. Mi\ (Jostliufj, holor.j'injj to (ho <'hiiiu>l-roval ; nho iW

Mrs. .\r!ih«>lhi Ilm$. who hiul ti [hw voioo. iu\(l was hk(«\\i,s(>
f i
rtOohvntod ns n hi(!inis(. Tht* v«)oahs(s siiii};- sovonv! juoloihos
hy Pnrooll, whih' (ha( p:i'oa( oomposor «oo<>n»|»imi(Ml (hoiii on
tho harpsiohortl ; hut (luoon Marv hi'oamt* wt'ary of l*m'ot>||'H
oxaltiMl styh>, and hoton* his taoo ii\«pur(Ml il' ArahoMa llinil
oouUI siiij;- thiMvhl St'otoh halhul ol'
"Colli \\\\i\ rnw (lie wiiiil ilolli Mow."

Tho h\(ly satip; it to hor hito ; (ho iuij;ht,iost oonipoHor that
Mujiland (wor hoas((>d sitdii^'-, moan(i>no, uuoinphtyod at liis
insd'iuMont, not ti littlo luortiliod at. tho tpioou's prol'oi'oiico
of II haUad, tho WMirds of wliloh inijyht iu»t only ho oonsidoicd

vulijai'. hut sojuothiui;" worso. Supposing', howovor, that it
was tho air with whioh hor luajt'sty was so luiu'li phvisod,
I'urotdl adapted it to hor noxt hirtlnhiy odo, snn^ hy Mr.

(SostUni»;. 'rh(> (puuMi had hoon aooustomod ((» hoar Mr.
riostlin};'s pi>rl$rtnauoo in hor oarli«'r whon ho
(hiys, iistMl
to join in (hiots with hor royal nnoh> (Miarh>s II., who sail};
tho ton»)r, whilo hor nnl'ortnnalo (at hor, thon tho jây and
piUant diik(» of York, nooonipaniod thon» on th(^ |;iiitnr.
PurooU's looliuf^s, it soonis, wvw nnioh wonniU'd hy I ho

(pioon's n»annt>r whon slio silonood his ooinpositions; (ho
inoidont was novor t'or}j:otton hy him : in <'ons«'(piono<^ it has
1)0011 iniorw'ov(Mi wi(h (ho his(()ry of his soionoo.'
As tho yonnji thdvo oC (ih)noos(or lived at ( atnpdin-hoiisc,
lie was, whon his royal aunt kept court at Kensin<;(()n, takoa
daily thorn: hor majesty nsindly pivo him andionoo whilst
siiporintondinjj: thi^ jirofjjross of h(!r worknuni, who wen;
fittinfjj up and (inishinjjj th(^ interior of tho palace. Tho
infant duke liktnvisi* took nnu^h interest in watidiini^; thcso
proceediusjjs, ami usually nuule u|) his mind to ia'coiuc ii
carpenter, a smith, or a painter, accordiu}; to th(! pn^valonco

of the operations lu^ heheld. The queen NCMMned foial ' ol'
' IltiwUmit' Hirt(<)rv of Mumc. Anciciii Sculch MiiHir; Miiitliuul (/'iub.

'''
huwitt Joiikiuu' Lilb of Uiu Ditku of (UuuuuHlor.
\\\n\ n. m)
\\o rnliMMiiiiKMl hi\n, and 1i»oK ploasuvo in lioarin^ liini prate. Nln> pr(>-
irorll ami tl\o srnlod liini with a l»o\ ol' ivory tooU, on nct'onnl ol' llio
ov«l ; also for prt'diloction he showi'd to InoidicrallM. Tin* \},\\\ ooml licr
(I was likt'wiso t\V(Mity poniuh, wliirli was rtiilicr potnponsly annonn<<rd in

'vrnt! n\('l(>(li('s thr (9a7.t<ttr. Tlii' child had thrivrn pretty \>oll at Canipdon
iauir«l thnii ou lionso, lint Hds speech and inlidlci'l \\«<re tar more aihaiwod
rv of rmot'll's than his physis'al Mtron!j,th, tor at lonr yoai'H old ho \\m
Ai'tihrlla Hunt Ncan'idy ahh» to walk \>ithont snpport.
'ri \c tpKM'n s rojj,'eni'y la 4t(<d nntd th(< :J;ih ol' OotoiuMV
when kin;; W tlliain arri\iMl at Harwich. The results ol' the
iiavid war under her majesty's f!;nidaiice at home, and ol' tho
niplovctl at. his rc'viiniMital war condiuMi'd hy kiii); William in I'landei'M, had
M\*s pvcrrrciuv been dn<adt'nllv disastrous. The naval dd'eal at St. \ inceiit,
^ h(» CDHHidlMlMl that (*api< whos(< nani(> has hiiicc been so ^'lorlons in tlio
owcviT, llial it imials of llrilish marine warfare, had taken place in
nmi'li plciisi'd, Ma rv N rc^vency twelve Mnjriish and Dnteli meii-of-wiir

>, Huufi; l»y Mr. wen« destroyed hy Tonrville, who thus rt>veni;ed himself for
I to hear Mr. till' had sustained the prccediii;',' year at La Monno
loss h«> ;
wluMl \\V llNCll likewise hy the plnnder of the rich Tnrki'y licet. KiHK
M II., who Nan;; William had lost another hard l'oii;;ht and liloody hat lie in
II tlu' ^;av ami {''landers that of jjanden. Th(> ih<feat of admiral KenlMnv,
when hi.mhardiii};' the ilrcttm town of tSt. Mido, was iJiit hisl,
)im(l('(l by llic disaster in (|necn Mary's rcju'eiicy ; the naval eaptains who
(positions; tlir were to have siipporlcd llenliow, proliahly out of dislikif to
st«(HU'nc<i it lins ti.t' p>v(M'iiin(Mit, r<>fnsed lo li^'ht, and a darker Hliade wim
•I-.' cKst on the Hrilish name than that of dcfi*at, f(»r execntioiiH
'iiinpdrn-liousc, cii.Mied for cowardice. Hncli were the troubles of ii divided
iisin;;'toii, taken iiiitioii.
iiudiciicd whilst riiWHi) (lisaslcrs were very ii'e<;ly eommcntiMl upon in tlm
icn, who wciT Npcc(<li from the throne, whcrinvith the kiiifj; opianul (lailiii-
1 pnliicd. 'rii«' aiciit, Novenibor 71 h. The Iosh of IiIn battle hi] acknow-
wiitoliiiifi; tlu'sc! ledged, but li(^ altribnted it tii iiisnUiciiuK^y of inoni!y-Nn|>.
d to bccoinc ii plies. The naval def(Mits he likewise^ admitted, and said tlii!y
tlui pirvalcnw should bo impiiriMl into. The p(M)pl(< of l'lti;;lati(l wi-ro
MMiuul lond ' ol' ii|j;liuNt at tin; enormity of taxation ; they {.groaned iiMfhT
th(îr ImnleiiM, and munifcsli^d hikÎi a tendency to iniitinonN
liu^tion, thai iiftiM' loiii^r contents in paj'lia.im;nt, IIh! kin^^ d(%
cliircd in jirivy council, " that an they seemed bctt,cr sutiMlied
^*fl
.- +
i-'
410 MAUY ir.
with tl»o {jjovprninont of the 'iikmih, ho woiihl loavo lior to

nUo th(Mn, and rctinMvholly to his native country.'" 'I'liis
I
.1
throat was, of* (U)iirso, a vory ahirniiiifj; orio to a dovoiod wife
i
I
^ liko Mary
his roNohition,
; hut his majesty was iuchiood to think hottir of
and in jjlaco of ahdication, to try
of a ohaniô of a(hniuist"a(ioii, ooinposod of porsoun^cs
Unijîufj; to tho ohl nohilily, to whom apportainod siioh
luMvditary ostatos, that thoy wouhl he iuaocuvssibhi to

tlic ('(rccts
he-
vast
^
tlu;
corruption hy tho dishonest prinu'-ininistcr who

praotistul
had at various times (hu'injj; tlu^ last twenty years fôverncMl
En}i;hnid, under the oft-ehanujiufjj epithets of sir Thoiiiiis
Oshorno, h)rd Danhy, nnu'cpu'ss of ('arnuirthcn, and (hda; of
lioeds. was this man who had exalted iVlamnn)n into Mk;
It
siipremaoy, of which the kin<^ and ehureh had hecm dc'prived

nt tho llevolntion. lie had systenuitically devoted a larjô
share of the nnexanipled taxatioti raised sin(!(; the Itevolu-
tiou to purchasing a majority in the house of eommons.
i
Tho queeu always h)oked up to this wily veteran with coii-

siderahle deferenee while ho was ])resi(leut of her council.
From her letters to her hushand her reasons have been
»r qiu)ted, because, wluni lord Dauby, ho had uogotiated her
marriage.
Tho venerable primate of England, William Saneroft, died
Novend)er 23, 1()!)3, in his humble paternal cottage at Fres-
singtield, in Sulfolk, where ho led a holy, but not altogether

peaceful Vacv and anon, on tho rumours of Jacobite
life.
insurrections, the (|ueen's messengers were sent to harass the

old man with inquisitions regarding his polities.'' The queen
gained little n\ore from her inquiries tlnui information of
his devotions, his ascetic abstemiousness, and his walks in a
bowery orchard, where he spent his days in stiuly or medi-
tation. Death laid a welcome and gentle hand on the de-
prived archbishop, at the age; of seventy-seven years. Far
from the pomps of Lambeth, he rests beneath the humble
green sod of a Suftblk church-yard. There is a tablet raised
to his memory, on the outside of the porch of Fressingtield
' Dalryniplo's History of the Jlevolution.

» D'Oyiey's Lite of Stincroti.
— ;
MARY II. Ill
loavo her to churcli, wliieli is still shown with pride and aff(^ction by the
jtry.'" This inhabitants of his nativ(! village. A poet of his native county
(Icvotod witb has nobly illustratiul the retr(!at of Haneroft. His words,
ink l)clt(M' of however beautiful aiul toiudiing, do iu)t exaggerate the
ry tli(! <'ll('cts truth :
" Ho It'll lii>?li liiiiiilH'th'H vcncrahlo towels,

M's()iin}i;('s hc-
Kor li'm Hiimll licritiiô mid Inniihlc 1)oworH.
11(1(1 siu'li vast tt w * * «
ssiblc to tlu; Now with Imh Hliiir ill liiH ])iiUtiiii1 ground,
Ainitl liiH oirluird trees lie iiiiiy lie iouiid,
iniuistcr wlio
Am old iiuiii late reliinied where he wiiH Been,
:ars govonunl Siiortiii^? II the viilii);fe (j;reen.
i^liild iiikiii
hIi* Tliomas Ho- iiKiiy a ehaii(;eful year had jiiWHed iM'tweeii !
IMaiK niii^ Ii'ih Hcuitered hair, Ixit leaviii|f there

,
and (luk(! of A lieari kepi y<>Îll^? hy l»iety and prayer,
iirion into tlu! That to the itKiuiriiig (rieii(l could meekly tt^ll,
•
He not for me alllieted: it in well,
w.v.w (l(>privo(l *
For 'twiiH in my integrity I rell.'"''
k'otcd Ji Vavô
" Sanciroft had dicul a year before, iu the same poor and
I the Rcvohi-
(lespieabh; nuiniu;r in Avhudi he had lived for some years."
of comuums.
This sentence is iu Burnet's own hand iu his manuseri[)ts
an with con-
it is likewise iu his printed history. But just opposite, oii
her council.
the next page of tlie latter, appears the self-contradiction of
IS liavo hc(^n
these words, when lauding TiUotsoii for dying poor: " So
egotiatcd hor
generous and charitable was he in a post, out of which San-
croft had raiscul a great estate." Thus Sancroft is despised
"Bancroft, died
for one page, and taunted with his riches in
his poverty in
ttage at Fr(!s-
the next. The fate of archbishop Sancroft had a remarkable
lot altogether
effect on the mind of the most original genius of his times,
s of Jaeolnte
who was tiicn rising into the first consciousness of great and
to harass the
varied powers. When hope and trust in
Sancroft died, all
"^
The (luceu
the possibility of the prosperity of goodness left the mind of
ifovniation of
Swift. Every vision of virtue, purity, and divine ideality
his walks iu a
which haunts the intellect of a young poet, was violently
:udv or nicdi-
repudiated by him in an access of misanthropic despair.
id on the de-
Ambitious, and replete with mighty energy, and sorely
i years. Far I
goaded by want and impatience of dependence. Swift, never- ;l
the humble
theless, resolved to swim with the current of events, and
tablet raised
float uppermost on the stream of politics, howsoever corrupt
Fressinglicld
These lines arc by the rev. John Mitford j the laat words cmlxidy an
'
answer which the venerable Sancroft made to his chaplain when on his death-
bed.
Ill
412 MARY ir.
t\\p surface miglit be. He took his farewell, in his " Ode
to Sancroft/' of all that was beautiful and glorious in the
animus of his art, to devote himself to the foulest and
fiercest phase of satire. How can a documentary historian
f S I read without emotion tliat magnificent invocation with Avhich
Swift, the young kinsman of John Dryden, commences his
elegy' on the fall of Sancroft

" Truth, the eternal child of holiest heaven
Ih'ighteHt elHuence of the ininiortiil ray !
Chief cheruh and cliief laui]) of that high Hevcn

Which pnard the throne by night, and are its light by day
First of Ooil's mighty attributes, ;
1 Tlion daily seest him face to face,

Nor does thy essence fixed dei)end on giddy circumstanco
'
.J Of time or place.
i How shall we find dark disputes
thee, then, in 1
a battle gained,
Jfoiv shall tee search thee in
Or a tveak argument by force maintained ?
For where is e'en thy image on our earth, I
Since heaven will claim thy residence and birth ?

*
And Ood himself hiw said, ' Ye shall not find it here !
Since this inferior world is but heaven's dusky shade,

By dark reverted rays from its reflection made.
Is not good Sancroft, in his holy rest.
In the divinity of his retreat,
The brightest pattern earth can show ?
But fools, for being strong and numerous grown.
Suppose the truth, like the whole world, their own
And holy Saneroft's course irregular appears.
Because entirely opposed to theirs.
Ah, Britain, land of angels !which of all thy sins,

Say, hapless isle, although
It a blo(xly list we know,
is
Has given thee up a dwelling place for fiends ?

Sin and the plague ever abound
In easy governments and fruitful ground
Evils which a too gentle king.
Too flourishing a spring.
JU ., :
And too warm summers bring.
Our Britain's soil is over rank, and breeds

Among the noblest flowers a thousand pois'noua weeds
And every noxious weed so lofty grows.
As if it meant to o'ersliade the royal rose,
* These extracts are from a copy in Cole's Miscellaneous MSS., in which the
poem is far superior in perspicuity and polish to the copies printed in the
uuitions of Swift's works, where, liowevei^, it is very rare.
MARY IT. 413
Tho royal rose, the glory of our morn.

Butall too much without ii thorn.
!
Forgive (original mildness) this ungovemed zeal,

"Tis all the eii" Muse can do.
In the poUution of these days •
:]
JVb province now is left her hut to rail.
For poetry has lost the art to pniisc,
Alas the occaaions are so very few."
!
Swift fulfilled the determination here expressed so com-

pletely, that the quotation of this historical poem will excite
no little surprise, for it is forgotten or stifled among the
profusion of his productions of a contrary tendency. Never-
theless, Swift, as a contemporary memorialist, throws true
hght on the events of his era, when his historical nota-
tions were not garbled for premature publication. Having
lamented the undeserved adversity of the disinterested
primate of the Englisli church. Swift buckled his fortunes
on those of that primate's mortal enemy, William III. Tlie
king, on becoming acquainted with Swift at the house of sir
William Temple, offered him a troop of horse; and after
wondering wherefore a man of his unclerical mind refused
an occupation more fitting to it than that of Christian
tuition, he left him with no other benefit than teaching him
the Dutch way of cutting asparagus from the beds at Moor
Park, when his majesty staid with sir William Temple. King
William likcAvise inculcated the propriety of his mode of
eating this vegetable, which was to devour the whole of the
stalks. Swift insisted on all his guests practising the same
refined royai method when, in after life, he became dean of
St. Patrick's ; but more out of satire on the " glorious me-
mory," and to vex its Irish adorers, than for any sincere
admiration of this Dutch custom.'
Sir Walter Scott's Life of Swift.

î
ff
MARY II.
CTIAPTER X.
— —
Anecdotes of Mary II. Gossip of the court Her attention to her nephew
Princess Anne's urrangements for him —
His vicinity to the queen at Campdcn-
house — Often visits her majesty — —
Departure of the king Queen founds
— Anecdotes of the queen and lier nephew —
W i
Oreenwicli Hospital
the queen's government — —
Disasters in
Return of the king Archhishop Tillotson struck
—
with deatli in the queen's presence Quetni's ohservations regarding Dr.
— —
Hooper Queen appoints Dr. Tennison archhishoj) Lord Jersey's remon-
strance— — —
Her reply Queen taken ill at Kensington Sits up t) destroy
i\ papers — Fluctuatitms in her disorder — —
Proceedings of her sister Queen's
Dlness results in the smallpox — — —
Her danger Angiiish of the king Princess
—
Anne sends lady Fitzharding with message to the queen Queen's sufferings
— — —
from erysijMjlas Her I'.fe despaired of Preparations for death Delirious
fancies — — —
Dangerous state of the king Death of Mary II. Great seal broken
— —
News of her death carried to St. Oermains by a priest Conduct of her
1 father, and his remarks on her death — —
Letter she left for her husband Duke
of Devonshire's verses on her death — Burnet's eulogy —Lord Cutts' elegy, &c.
— Jacobite epigrams on the queen —Sermons, funeral, and wax statue in West-
.'tn minster-abbey — —
Anecdotes in her praise Burnet's panegyrical epitaph.
The new prime-minister, destined to be president of the

queen's council when she again reigned alone, was Charles
Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury, who had been permitted to take
1
liis seat as premier carl of England on a very doubtful re-
nunciation of the Roman-catholic religion, in which he had

been educated. Scandal feigned that he was the object of
queen Mary's passionate affection. This gossip arose from
)
)
the reports of " one Jack Howe," her dismissed vice-cham-
1
berlain, who was, in 1693-4, purveyor of scandal to the

princess Anne's inimical little court. He has already been
mentioned in one of the satires of the day as "republic
'^H
'^9 Jack Howe." Lord chamberlains and vice-chamberlains
have always been very formidable personages as connected
I^^^H' with slander in rcard to nueens- cither as the subiects of
i
m
1
1
:Mk
Hi
MARY IT. 415
gossip talcs, or the inventors of them. Tliere is a story

afloat concerning the successor of Jack Howe. Queen Mary
did not often indulge in badinage or playfulness; once,
however, she forgot her caution, and gave rise to an anec-
dote, the tradition of which was handed down to Horace

IRELAND. Walpole. One day the queen asked her ladies, " What
was meant by a squeeze of the hand?" They answered,
" Love." —
" Then," said the queen, laughing, " vice-cham-
berlain Smith must be in love with me, for he squeezes my
hand very hard." Among many other circumstances, which
contradict the report that queen Mary bestowed any undue
partiality on lord Shrewsbury, is the undoubted fact, that
the vacillations of that nobleman regarding his acceptance
of office, were settled by the negotiations of her husband's
female favourite and Mrs. Lundee, a woman dishonourably
connected with Shrewsbury.' Thus was the appointment of
a prime-minister of England arranged in a manner equally
disgraceful to king William and to himself. Shrewsbury's
polith'al intrigues with a woman deservedly abhorred by the
queen were not likely to recommend him to her majesty.
Neither is the description of lord Shrewsbury as " a charm-
ing man, wanting one eye," very attractive.
The young heir of England, at this period, began to
occupy the attention of his aunt, the queen, in a greater
degree than heretofore, The princess Anne continued to
reside atBerkeley-house as her town residence, while her
boy usually inhabited Campden-house,'^ Kensington-palace.
The princess had suites of apartments at Campdeii-house for
her own use, and occasionally resided with her son,^ although
' Coxo's Correspondence of the Duke of Shrewsbury. See the letters to and
from Mrs. Villiers and Mrs, Dundee, pp. 18-30.
' Mr. Brayley, in his liondiniuna, declares that the front of Campden-house
was pulled down early in the present fjentury.

This is gathered from the tract full of puerilities written by Lewis Jenkins,
•''
a Welsh usher to the little duke's chamber. The usher's memoir has, however,
thrown that light on the residence and daily life of queen Mary and her sister
for which it u vain to search history. The localities of Jenkins' narrative of
small facts are often quoted as in the bedchamber, cabinet, or sitting-room of
the princess Anne at Campden-house; likewise li; preserves the fact, that she
resided at Berkeley -house until she took possession of St. James's-palace.
II
410 MMIY ir.
tlio entree at Kcnsin^ton-imlacc, opoii to liim, was for ever

barrrd to her. All the provisions for his tahU? wvrv sent
(hiily from IhMkch'y-lioust!; these* eoiisisted of phiin joints of
meat, to which an appk'-pie was aihh'd as (h'sscrt, l)ut li(>
i !
was never permitted to eat eonfeetiomirv. The preenh-etioii
all yomif^ ehihh'en take for th(^ ^Mitter and elatter «)f military
movements, was eajêrly fostered by his attendants as an
early indieation of love of war; and to enltivate this virtiioiis
propensity to the he was indnlêd with warlike toys

luMjjfht,
in profnsion, miniatnre cannon, swords, and trnmpets, and,

more tiuin all, with a little regiment of in-ehins about his
own ajê.
The princess Anne, findinfj; her son afllicted with the a;j;iio
in 1(51)1, sent for Mr. Seutiman, an apothecary, and recpiind
i J-
him "to i!;[\c her a prescription approved of by her undo
Charles II., for," her royal hij^hness said, "it cured every
kind of a«i!;uc.'' Mr. Sentiman liad the recipe for the nos-
trnui, which was a mixture of brandy and satfron ; it mado
the poor child excessively ill, but did not cure him. llci
royal hif^hnesa had a j;reat ambition to have her young sou
elected a knight of the Clarter, and soon afterwads stmt hiiu
to visit the queen and king William with a blue band passed
over his shoulder, to put them in mind that there was a
II bine riband vacant l)y the death of the duke of Hamilton.
Queen Mary received her young visitor, but did not take the
hint respecting the coveted (jartci-, which she gave the duke
of Shrewsbury as a reward for having, after much j)oiitical
coquetry, agreed to become her secretary of state. The

queen 1h stowed on licr littK) nephew a gift imich more con-
sonant to his years; this was a beautiful bird. But it ap-
pears tliat the child had been rendered, either by his mother
or his governess, expectant and ambitious of the blue riband;

he therefore rejected the bird, and very calmly said, "that
he would not rob her majesty of it."
Tlie poor little prince was evidently afflicted with hydro-
cephalus, or water on the brain, a complaint that often
cai'ries to the grave whole families of promising infants.
Such was, no doubt, the disease that desolated the nursery

MARY II. -117
was for ever of tljc princess Anno: very little was known re<;ardin}; its
lo worr sent cure, or even its nature, by the faeulty at that p(*rio(l. The
liiiu jointH of symptoms are clearly traced by the duke's attendant, Iêwis
ssort, but ho Jenkins, who says, "Tlu; (hike of (iloucicster's liead was very
1 jn'cdiU'ctiou and larjê, insonnich th. t his hat was bij; enough for
loti}^
i>r of luiUtiiry most men, which made it dithcult to fit his head with a
uhuits as an peruke," —
a jjcruke for an infant born in July KiHl) It was !
this virtuous then only lâster 1(51) L The unfortnmite child, with this
1 warlike toys onormons head, is nevertheless described in ^lowinj? terms
I'liinpctM, and, | by his flatterin{^ attendant. After lamentiti}^ the difHenlties
ins about his of fittinjif the poor babe with a periwij^, because the doctors
kept a blister in the nape of his necdv, he continues,' "The
with tbc a;,Mui face of the younj? duke of (Jloucester was oval, and usually
, and nuiuiri'd glowed with a fresh colour; his body easy, his arms finely
by her uncle hung, his chest full; his legs proportional)le to his body
it c\uvd cvtry made him appear very charming, turning out his toes as
for the uos- if he had ninWy been taught to do so. I measured liim,
Vrou; it made and found his height was three feet four inches. Although
ire him. Ucr he was active and lively, yet he could not go up and down
her youu}5 sou stairs without help, nor raise himself when down." IIow
[•wads sent him any child could be active and lively in such a pitiable state,
uc band passed passes the comprehension of every one but Lewis Jenkins.
it there was a "People concluded w.,occasioned by the over eare of
^
-
of llamiltou. the ladies. The Denmark, who was a very good-
,iiince of
id not take the natured, pleasiuif num, would often rally them about it;
trave tbe duke and Dr. Radcliffe, in his accustomed manner, spoke very
iniieh poiiticiU bluntly to Mrs. Lewin, his sub-governess, about it."
of state. The The young prince Avas chiefly managed by his governess,
mcU more cou- lady Fit/diarding, lord Fitzharding, master of the liorse to
,. But it ap- the princess his mother, and Mrs. Lewin. The Kingston
by his mother quakeress, wet-nurse, had likewise great authority in his
liis
he bhie riband; household Mr. Pratt, one of the chai)lains of the princess,
:
mly said, " that was his preceptor. "After due consultation with the prince
her husband, the princess Anne considered that it Avas time
;ed with hydro- that their heir should assume his masculine attire, seeing
lint that often how active he was, and that his stiff-bodied coats were very
infants.
.misiiig troublesome to him in liis military amusements, (for no-
;ed the nursery > Lewis Jenkins' Memoirs of the Duke of Gloucester, p. 12,
VOL. VII. E E
418 MARY II.
thing but battles, sieges, drums, and warlike tales afforded

Sl'f
him recreation) ; the princess and prince of Denmark, there-
fore, ordered my lady Fitzharding, his governess, to put liiin
into male habiliments, which was accordingly done on Eas-

ter-day." Does the reader wish to know the costume of the
heir of Great Britain on Easter-day, 1694? His suit wan
white camlet, with loops and buttons of silver thread. He
wore stiff stays under his waistcoat, which hurt him, no —
wonder! Whereupon Mr. Hughes, the little duke's tailor,
was sent for, and the duke of Gloucester ordered a band
of urchins from the regiment of boys, which he termed his
'.'*
I
horse-guards, to punish the tailor for making the stiff stays
that hurt him. The punishment was, to be put on the
wooden horse, which stood in the presence-chamber at
Campden-house,* this horse being placed there for the tor-
ment of military offenders. Now tailor Hughes had never
been at Campden-house, and knew none of its customs and ;
when he found liimself surrounded by a mob of small imps

in mimic soldiers* gear, all ti'ying, as far as they could
reach, to pull and push him towards the instrument of
punishment, the poor Welshman was not a little scared,
deeming them freakish fairies, very malignly disposed to-
wards him. At last Lewis Jenkins, the usher, came to the
rescue of his countryman. An explanation was then en-
tered into, and the Welsh tailor was set at liberty, after
1» he had promised to amend all that was amiss in the stiff
stays of his little highness.
The young duke had a mighty fancy to be prince of
Wales, and often asked Jenkins "why he was not so?"
The question was perplexing, since the princess Anne had
solemnly charged lady Fitzharding, and all her son's attend-
ants, never to make any allusion to his grandfather, king
James II., or to the unfortunate prince of Wales, her
brother her child was not to know that they existed.
:
Lewis Jenkins told him, "It was not impossible but that,
one day, he might be prince of Wales; and if he ever
were, he hoped he would make him his Welch interpreter."'
Bin' • Lewis Jenkins' Memoirs of the Duke of Gloucester, p. 11.
1:1
MARY II. 419
It seems always to have been a custom in the royal family

of England since the era of Edward I., to propitiate the
principalityby appointing some Wclsli persons as servants
of the princes of Wales, and by employing Welsh trades-
men for their households. These little observances con-
ciliate and please, when national differences of language
sometimes occasion mutiny and discontent.
One day, just before his uncle's departure for the cam-
paign in 1(594, the little duke had a grand field-day in
Kensington-gardens, king William condescending to look
on. The infant Gloucester very affectionately promised him
the assistance of himself and
whole troop of urchins for
his
his Flemish war; then turning to queen Mary eagerly,
he said, "My mamma once had guards as well as you;
why has she not them now?" The queen's sui'prise was
evident and painful. King William presented the young
duke's drummer, on the spot, with two guineas, as a re-
ward for the loudness of his music, which proved a season-
able diversion to the awkward question of his young com-
mander. The must have heard the matter discussed
child
in his household, or between his parents, since he was
but a few months old when his mother was deprived of
her guards. Queen Mary received a visit from her nephew
on her birthday, April 30, 1694. After he had wished
her joy, he began, as usual, to prate. There were car-
penters at work in the queen's gallery at Kensington, the
room in Avhich her majesty stood with the king. The
young duke asked the queen "what they were about?"
" Mending the gallery," said queen Mary, " or it will
fall."
—" Let it fall, let' it fall," said the young duke, " and
then you must be ofl' to London," —
a true indication that
he had not been taught to consider their royal vicinity
as any great advantage to Campdcn-house.
William III. went to visit his infant nephew at Camp-

den-house the following Sunday. It was in vain that
lady Fitzharding lectured her charge, and advised him
• Lewis Jenkins' Memoirs of the Duke of Gloucester, p. 10.
E E 2
420 MARY II.
H
to make the military salute to his royal uncle ; not a word
would the boy say on that subject, until he had demanded
leave of his majesty to fire off his train of miniature ar-
tillery. The king was rather charmed with this military
mania, so well according with his own. Three cannons
were fired off, and a deep lamentation made by the little
duke that the fourth was broken. King William promised
l>'
to send him a new one, but forgotit. The child then,
of his own accord, thanked him for coming to see him,
and added, "My dear king, you shall have both my com-
f
panies, with myself, to serve you in Flanders," —meaning
the urchins who formed what he called his regiments.
These boy-soldiers were no slight annoyance to Kensing-
ton, for on their return homewards from drill, presuming
on being the duke of Gloucester's men, they used to enter
the houses on the road to London, and help themselves
to whatever they liked, ^
—
a proceeding in complete coin-
cidence with the times, since it appears that this was only
an imitation of the practices of soldiers quartered in the
environs of London at the same era.
Whether queen Mary approved of the new administra-
tion, it would be extremely difficult to discover. Her con-
sort, who best knew her mind, once warned her minister
" not to take it for granted that the queen was of his opinion
—
every time she did not contradict him," a hint illustrative
of the diplomatic reserve of her character. Her letters
prove that command of countenance was her systematic

study, and that she likewise anticipated the political deduc-
tions that those around her drew from the fluctuations of
her spirits. Few women ever lived in such an atmospliere
of bodily and mental restraint, or so sedulously calculated
the effect of her words, looks, or manners, as Mary of
England. Her ancestor, James L, made a remarkable

clatter about an art that he fancied he had invented, called
by him king-craft, which his constant loquacity and socia-
bility prevented him from practising; but queen Mary, if
we may judge by her own written admissions, had secretly
> Lewis Jenkins' Memoirs of the Duke of Gloucester, p. 15.
;
MARY II. 421
reduced queen-craft to and acted thereon to

a system,
the last moment The abstinence from
of her existence.
contradiction into which she had been schooled, from girl-
hood, by the waspishness of her partner, caused her to
hree cannons be given credit for a host of virtues to which she had small
claims. Among others, she had led her chamberlain, lord
Nottingham, to imagine that, in case of widowhood, it
was her intention to restore her father to his throne.* It
is startling, indeed, that so dutiful a spouse should have
suffered her thoughts to
stray towards the independent
state widowhood, to which, however, though much
of
younger than William, she never attained. Whether the
queen wished some filial affection to be attributed to her
by lord Shrewsbury and lord Nottingham, whom she had
reason were in secret attached to her father,
to believe
or whether her taste was justly offended by the indelicacy
c ^^ conduct of lord Halifax, it is difficult to decide.
'-^ theless, king William thought proper to warn his
, ;
ministry not to offend the queen as lord Halifax had done,

who had infinitely disgusted her by breaking his rude jests
on her father in her presence; "And on this account,"
added king William, "the queen at last could not endure
the sight of lord Halifax. "^ This singular warning appears
to have been given by the king just before his departure
to Flanders, which took place May 6th that year, by way
of Margate.^
1 Lord Dartmouth's Notes. ' Ibid.
^ King William was passing through Canterbiu-y togo to Holland, when his
approach excited the loyalty of a ne'er-do-well lad called Matthew Bishop, a
resident there, hut on the point of running away, and seeking his fortune by
sea, in the manner of Robinson Crusoe. This worthy seems never to have
wholly digested the dry manner in which his Dutch majesty received his zealous
homage. " I gathered," he said, in his auto-biogi-apby, " all the flowers out of
orn- own garden and several more, to adorn the High-street as he came along
and then, with some others, [boys,] ran by the side of his coach from College-
yard, almost two miles, huzzaing and crying at the top of our voices, * God bless
king William ' till his ma-jesty put his hand upon the gliiss, and looking upon
!
us, said, with the most disgusting dryness, ' It is enough.' " King William
could not well say less, yet contrived to offend his admirer so implacably, that he
declares the news of the king's death, when it occurred, gave him sensible satis-
faction. Thus were the people of England \veaned from their close and familiar
approximation with royalty, in which they had heretofore both delighted and
'
422 MARY II.
A report has arisen that queen Mary was accustomed to

supply her father with money in his exile; this has solely
sprung from a false statement of Voltaire. ^Vc have found
I^t
that the unfortunate king sent a fruitless request to White-
hall even for hi . clothes ;^ we have found that his indignant
subjects recogi 'sed trifling p'ôperty that had belonged to
ml' I
S|j I
him, or to his queen, in the possession of his daughter; we
have found the greedy inquisition that daughter made about
the beds and toilets at Whitehall, assuredly to see whether
the basins and ewers, and other furnitui'e of solid silver, had
been removed;'^ but we cannot find a single trace, or even an
offer, of any rest' tution from his private estates.^
The summer of 1694- brought its usual anxieties to the
heart of the queen, in the shape of lost naval battles and
ft
fruitless expeditions. Time has unveiled the mystery of
these failures. The defeat of the expedition against Brest
took place in June; general ToUemache and sixteen hundred
men were left dead on the French coast they had been sent
to invade. There is some excuse to be offered for the utter
abhorrence in which queen Mary held lord Marlborough,
when it is found, fi'om the most incontestable documentary
given deUgbt. The monarchs of England had fonnorly lived in the presence of
their commonalty ; the chivalric Plantagenet, the powerful Tudor, the graceful
Stuart, enjoyed no high festival, no gorgeous triumph, without their people for
audience. ,
jj^îy^
' Tliey were afterwards coined into half-crowns by king William.
' The pretence on which Voltaire has hung his falsehood, was the chicanery
(to use the veryterm of secretary Williamson, who practised it) regarding the
BO.OOOZ, which had been granted by the English parliament in payment of the
dcwer of the queeu of James II., at the peace of Ryswick, and was supposed,
both by the people of France and Great Britain, to have been paid to the unfor-
tunate queen ; but when the parliamentary inquiry took place, in 1699, into the
peculations of Somers' ministry, it was proved tliat tlie queen's dowry never
found its way further than into khig William's pocket. From that moment the
supply was stopped, amidst vituperations of the house of commons that nearly
amounted to execratwms. So shallow an historian as Voltaire took it for granted
that the dower had been paid, and that James II. subsisted on it, becauiw the
charge was in the budget of supply j but ho dived not into the whole of the in-
cidents, and was mistaken in the chronology, or he would never have attributed
p '
payments to " Mary the daughter." There does not appear a circumstance,
Bucli
besides this grant of tlie commons, (which was never paid,) on which Voltaire,
and the English historians who have echoed him, can found the assertion they
have made.
—
MARY II. 423
. '.i«ênce,' that this person betrayed his countrymen to their

sJ xaghter by sending information to France of the projected
attack, with many base protestations of the truth of his
and some reproaches that his former master,
intelligence,
king James, had never on any other occasion availed himself
of his information. The present intelligence cost Tollemache
his life, for to that general Marlborough had peculiar malice j
it likewise caused the destruction of many hundreds of un-
fortunate soldiers, who had given him no offence. .Thus the
earnest desire of queen Mary to separate the Marlboroughs
from her sister, was a mere act of self-defence; yet the
course she pursued towards her sister excites contempt, on
account of the series of low-minded petty attacks upon her,
in which the spitefiilness in regard to trifles strongly brings
to mind the liLv-/,
" Willing to wound, but yet to strike afraid."
One of queen Anne's historians affirms, that the queen

caused the name of her sister to be omitted in the Common
Prayer-book; but against this assertion we beg to oflPer our
own particular e^ddence, since we well remember, at six
years old, in the innocence of our heart, and without any
n the presence of papistical intentions, praying at church for king "William,
idor, the graceful
it their people for
queen Mary, princess Anne, and the duke of Gloucester, out
'
of old family Prayer-books printed in that reign.

William, When the news arrived in the household of the princess
wns the chicanery Anne of the disastrous d^ feat of Tollemache, the word went
t) regarding the
that he and his troops had been betrayed to death. " I was
inpayment of the
md was supposed, in waiting at Campden-house," says Lewis Jenkins, "when
paid to the unfor-
told the news that there had been an attempt to land men
in 1699, into the
len's dowry never in Camaret-bay, which was ill-advised for the French had ;
,
moment the
that had notice of our design, and general Tollemache and a great
nmons that nearly
;ook it for granted
aumber of brave soldiers were killed or wounded; for the
on it, becau«3 the enemy were strongly entrenched near the bay, the king of
le whole of tlie in-
cr have attributed ' Stuart Papers, edited by Macpherson, vol. Coxe, the apologist for Marl-
i.
lar a circumstance, borough, is obliged to own his hero guilty of this

infamous act. His excuses for
on which Voltaire, him seem to add to the guilt. Likewise Dalrymple's Memoirs of Great Britain,
the assertion they where the reader may consult overpowering evidence of these treasons, and read
Marlborough's letter vol. ii. pp. 44. 45,
:
424 MARY II.
France having posted ^ "^ arribre ban^ everywhere near Brest.

"We, who were in waiting, were talking of it to one another
before the little duke of Gloucester. We thought he was
busy at play, and did nc t attend to what passed ; but when
my lady governess Fitzharding came in the afternoon, and
began to tell the young duke the sad news, he stopped her,
by repeating the story as exactly as if he had been taught
it." From the same source it is found, that at the period
of this disaster the princess Anne was on a visit with the
guilty persons, tlo earl of Marlborough and his wife, at Sun-
iridge, near St. Albans, to which seat, belonging to lady
Marlborough, she often retired for some days.
It has been mentioned, that the gossips of the circle
at Berkeley-house, by the assistance of their ally, " Jack
Howe," had thought proper to promulgate the fiction that
the one-eyed prime-minister, Shrewsbury, was the object of
queen Mary's secret preference. They actually went so far
as to affirm, that if king William died, the queen would have
given her hand to Shrewsbmy. Such tales certainly invest
the despatches that premier wrote to king William in his
absence with an interest they would not otherwise possess.
,1
'
The sole foundation for this report is, that whenever lord
Shrewsbury entered the presence of queen Mary, she was
—
observed to tremble and turn pale, no very certain criterion
of the nature of the passion that agitated the queen, which
might be fear or hope concerning the tidings, of weal or
woe, he was likely to bring her on matters of high import.
Assuredly, lord Shrewsbury himself had heard of these
scandals, for he expresses himself with a certain degree of
prudish stiffness when he mentions the queen in his dec-
patches to her absent consort, dated August 1694. The
question was, whether the fleet commanded by Russell should
winter at Cadiz, or return to England? The privy council
were not united in their opinions as to the vacillation of
:
Shrewsbury, it was almost proverbial.

" When they," he writes to king William,'* " were so diffi-
• Feudal militia.
•
'
n >-
VyUAU B
(31 1 n »„_«_ _
OIU'CWBUIUJ VyUl 1 CB|A/UUCUW; yt
cfi
\J\It
MARY II. 425
m
, il
dent, you may be sure I was much more so of my own single

and therefore I had not presumed to say any more to your
majesty upon this subject, but that the queen did me the
honour to send for me, and chide me, saying, ' that, in so
important and nice a point, I ought not only to give your
majesty an account of my own thoughts, but, as near as I
could collect, the thoughts of the whole committee/ It is
therefore in obedience to her commands, and no presumption
of my own, that I venture to report to your majesty that
every body agreed the decision should be left to admiral
Russell." These words give no very brilliant idea of the
abilities of Mary's assistant in government, but they illus-
trate some of her difficulties in eliciting the opinions of her
council, and bringing them to an unanimous decision. Could
queen Mary have examined their private escritoirs, and
opened the autograph letters which we have opened, her
spirit must have failed in utter despair at witnessing their
complicated treachery; and whether the intent of these

double-dealing men was to betray her or her father, the dis-
gust excited by their conduct is equal. A majority among iji:.
the great body of the people, backed by the system of for-

midable standing armies, supported her, and the queen again
steered the vessel of the state safely through all dangers ; but I
the more the separate treasons are considered, the higher

ought her abilities in government to be rated. • •, t i i
The queen expedited the legal completion of her best good

work, the foundation of Greenwich Hospital, a few days
before the return of her husband. The letters-patent for
this foundation are dated October 25th, 1694. It was des- i''
tined for the use of those seamen of her royal navy who, by
age, wounds, or other accidents, should be disabled from
further service at sea. There was afterwards established a
liberal naval school for their children. The legal instrument
sets forth, "that the king and queen granted to sir John
Somers, lord keeper, and other great officers of state, eight
''
were so diffi- acres of their manor of Greenwich, and that capital mes-
iiir
suage, lately built by their royal uncle, king Charles II., and
still remaining unfinished, commonly called 'the palace of
426 MARY II.
Greenwich,' and several other edifices and buildings standing

upon part of the aforesaid ground bounded by the Thames,
and by admeasurement along that river 673 feet, to the east
i i
I
end of an edifice called the Vestry,' southward on the old
' '
f
Tiltyard' and the * queen's garden," and westward on the
I
* Friar' 8-road,' and bounded by other lands belonging

to the
~iu crown."''
In the subsequent confirmation of this grant by William
III, in 1695, the king mentions the foundation " as a parti-
cular wish of the queen;" thus the conversion of this un-
finished palace, v hich remained a national reproach, into an
institution which is on( of its glories, originated with Mary
who, nevertheless, contributed nothing towards the en-
II.,
dowment or support of the charity from her own purse.

Something, perhaps, she meant to give, yet that part called
by her name remained unfinished as late as 1752 for want of
funds; and when king William endowed the hospital with
the sum of 8000/. in 1695, that sum was taken out of the
and thus was entirely the charity of the English
civil list,
nation.^ No doubt, the queen would have been better

pleased if she had been suffered to endow he hospital with
her family spoils, than to have had the grief and shame of
seeing them dispensed where they were.* This explanation
is needful to show wherefore queen Mary, with every good-
* One of the landing-plactjs at Greenwioh is still called Garden-stairs. These

names are almost the only vestiges that remain of the ancient palace and convent
there.
» Halsted's History of Kent, vol. i. p. 22.
• An equal sum was collected from the munificence of private individuals in
London. A
scheme was afterwarcb arranged for the support of the hospital by
the deduction of sixpence a-month from the wages of the seamen, a plan probably
not intended by queen Mary.
It is a fact scarcely credible, but nevertheless true, that her husband seized
upon the ancient inheritance in Ireland, her father's private property, possessions
derived from Elizabeth de Burgh by her descendants through his ancestors the
Mortimers, and endowed with them the infamous Elizabeth Villiers. To this
woman he had granted 95,649 acres of land, the private estate of king James,
valued at 25,995/. per annum. It is a satisfaction to find that the house of
commons, some years afterwards, in the lifetime of king William, enraged at this
appropriation, forced this woman to give up her spoils,and likewise tore enor-
mous estates from the Dutch favourites, Bentinck, Ginkle, and Keppel, and
ordained their restitution, with all the income pertaining to them since the 13th
—
of February, 1687. Toone's Chronology.
iN
MARY IT. 427
gs standing will to become a most munificent foundress, was forced to
lie Thame8, limit her benefactions to the grant of a deserted palace, and
to tlie east the simple permission of existence to this great charity.
on the *
old Nevertheless, there was no little intellect in the act of pro-
iârd on the jectingand instituting such an establishment as Green-

ging to the wich Hospital, and appropriating a palace, in which her
husband delightt^d not to dwell, to so noble and beneficent
a purpose.
England perhaps owed the firm establishment of her naval
power to the delight which her sovereigns in tlie sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries took in their residence at Green-
wich-palace, where they loved to dwell, with all their mighty
navy anchored around them. The Tudors, and especially the
own purse. Stuarts, then felt themselves monarchs of the ocean, and
part called exulted in every gall?nt ship auded to their navy, as the
\ for want of cavalier rejoices in a new battle-steed. These vessels êing

lospital with thus completely under the eyes of their sovereign, he and all
his race took pleasure in, and became judges of those marine
[1 out of the
the English and colonial statistics, with which the true interests of this
[been better empire are vitally connected. The navy of England, like-
lospital with wise the mighty colonies founded in the intervals of peace
nd shame of in the seventeenth centuiy, declined miserably for upwards W
explanatio'^.
of fifty years after the reigning sovereign had given up the
every good- naval palace of Greenwich. The queen, in 1694, was re-
quired by some persons (who were, it is supposed, king Wil-
m-stairs. These
lace and convent liam and his Dutch favotirites) to demolish all the royal •*
If!'
structures appertaining to Greenwich-palace before she com-

menced the naval hospital; but her majesty had enough
regard for the place to resist this proposal. " I mean," she
said, " to retain the wing, builded bv my uncle Charles II.,
r liusbaiid seized as a royal reception-palace on the landing of foreign princes

perty, possessions or ambassadors; likewise the water-stairs, and approach to
his ancestors the
illiers. To this the same." The beautiful structure in the lower park, (to
3of king James, this day called 'the queen's house,') which was built by
lat the house of
Charles I. for his queen, Henrietta Maria, it was the inten-
1, enraged at this
cwise tore enor- tion of queen Mary still to retain as a royal villa, for her own
,nd Keppel, and occasional retirement, telling sir Christopher Wren " that she
m since the 13th .jj
»+ y.i
meant hun to acici me
i-i
lOur paviuons at the corners, as origi-
428 MARY ir.
nally desiRncd by Inigo.' With this resolution, her majesty

ordered to be left a 'heud-road' from the hind infjf-phieo, load-
ing to the small palace." Thus Mary had planned to dwell
occasionally at (rreenwich, perhaps for the purpose of wateli-
injif, in the trut! spirit of a foundress, over the noble liospital
she had desi«;ned to raise aroui'.d j such was " her majesty's
absolute determination," to quote tlu; words of her surveyor,"
—such were her plans when lookiu}^ forward to a lonfjj vista
of years, not knowing Jiow few weeks were really to be her

own.
For several months the rpieen had been in imminent dan-
ger from the machinations of a knot of dark ccmspirators
among her guards, of 'vhom the chief plotter, sir (Jeorgc
Barclay, was lieutenant-general. He had been a violent re\ o-
lutionist, but on some recent affront connected himself with
the Jacobite interest. By means of his coadjutor, captain
Williamson, of the same corps, he had, under feigned names,
sounded king James regarding an assassination of William
III. This scheme the exiled king forbad with detestation.
Sir George Barclay then affected to adopt, in his own name,
another plan. He wrote, **that he and sir John Friend
hoped, by a stratagem, to seize ' the prince and princess of
Orange,* and bring them to his majesty, their father, at St.
Germains."^ As this plot was formed by noted revolu-
tionists, employed in guarding her person, there actually
existed a possibility that the daughter might have been
dragged across the seas into the presence of her father.
Nothing, after the success of two revolutions in one century,
' Life of Sir Christopher Wren. Hawksmoor's Account of Greenwich Hos-
pital, 1728. He was deputy-surveyor. - Ibid.
r
' State- Papers, edited by Macplierson, vol. i. p. 467, and Dalrymplo's Memoirs
of Great Britain, p. 74. This very clause nmst acquit James II. of all desire
of assassinating his nephew. Two years afterwartls, this strange scheme wus
matured by tliese men into an assassination-plot against William III., tlicn a
widower, who was to have been murdered when returning t« London lioni
hunting at Richmond. No less than ten gentlemen were put to death for this
plot, cidled in history " Sir John Friend's Conspiracy." It is worthy of remark,
that the leaders or exetiutors of all the assassination-plots, in tins reign and the
next, had been revolutionists, or officers from William's own hand of French
refugees, as Grandval and Guiscard ; the latter, however, is suiiposed not to have
P" ^ joined the refugee corps tiU after tJie king's death.
Hit liî
|i'ii'';iji
MARY ir. 429
seomod, in fuct, too wild and perilous to be undertaken by

Enf^lish political adventurers.
Queen Mary condescended to encourage; a spy and tale-
bearer in the family of the princess, her sister, being the
quaker-nurse of her nephew, who had been given the offices
of breakfast-woman and dry-nurse, afterhe had been weaned;
3r siirvcvor. nothing, however, could satisfy her. She Avouhl be mistress
over every body, and would complain of every individual to
the lady governess, (Fitzharding,) who was heard to say,
" that if the (juakcress Pack was a year longer at court, she
would be too much for all there." Lady Fitzharding soon
found out that this woman had insinuated herself into fa-
vour with the queen, and particularly with the ladies who
were not on friendly terms with the princess Anne, and
busied herself with carrying talcs out of the establishment
at Campden and Berkeley-houses to her majesty. Such eon-
duct was inconvenient to lady Fitzharding, who had under-
taken the same office, but thought it safest to play a double
game. The queen, in course of time, gave Mrs. Pack's hus-
band a place in the Custom-house. The quakeress-nurse,
finding that her practices were suspected, requested to re-
tire, under plea of ill-health. The princess Anne consented,
and gave her an annuity of 40/. per annum. Scarcely had
the nurse retired from the healthy air of Kensington to
Deptford, when she caught the smallpox. Whilst she re-
mained very ill, the duke of Gloucester sent every day to .r
licar how she was. None of the household at Campden-
house had the least idea of her danger. One morning the
duke of Gloucester was asked, "Whether he should send,
as usual, to knoAV how his nurse was?''
—
"No," he said,
"for she is dead." " Hoav do you know, sir?" asked his
attendant. " That is no matter," replied the young duke
"but I am sure she is dead." Mrs. Wanley, one of his
women, then observed " that the young duke had told her
yesterday, that he knew Pack would die next day." The
child was right;
his nurse actually died just before the dis-
cussion took place. This coincidence occasioned no little
consternation in his houseuold, for they said it was physi-
430 MARY ir.
cally impossible that the chihl, or any one else, could hivve
been informed of the fact by natural means. The yoimp;
duke was taken to visit liis aunt, queen Mary, next day.
Perhaps her majesty had lieard this marvellous tale, for
she led the way to it, by asking him, " If he were sorry
to hear that his nurse was ad?" The child replied, " No,
madam. And this most unsatisfactory reply was all the
'
queen could elicit from her little nephew on the subject.

Mrs. Atkinson succeeded the quakeress-nurse in her offices.
*' She was," says Lewis Jenkins, " niece to
my good coun-
trywoman, Mrs. Butt,' who had the honour to see how the
princess Anne was fed when a child."
it The issue of a new coinage engaged the attention of
the queen^s government in this summer. So much had the
coin been debased in her reign, that good Caroluscs or
Jacobuses passed for thirty shillings cash. The circulation in
England was greatly injured by base guineas, coined in Hol-
land. The heads of the two regnant sovereigns were im-
pressed on the —
new coins, not like Philip and Mary looking
into each other's faces, but in the more elegant manner of
one profile appearing beyond the other. Philip Rotier, one
si'
by James II., had positively refused

!
of the artists patronised
to work for William and Mary. His son, Norbert Rotier, was
not so scrupulous. In 1694 he was employed in designing
some dies for the copper coinage and a medal, charged with
the double profile, and Britannia on the reverse, when it
was discovered that William's head bore an impertinent
likeness to that of a satyr; and this circumstance made a
great noise, and was followed by the report that James II.
was concealed in Rotier's house in the Tower. Norbert Rotier,
hi finding himself an object of suspicion, retired to France.'*
The queen had anxiously expected her husband from
• This is, perhaps, the same name as Btiss, who is mentioned in the Clarendon
Diary as nurse to the princess Anne. According to Lewis Jenkins, she had the
office of keeper of the privy-purse to the princess.
2 Where he designed several medals for the chevalier St. George. He was
succeeded in his office by Harris, the player, an unworthy favourite of the
duchess of Cleveland, who was ignorant of the art. —
Fine Arts of Great Britain,
tiw Tnvlnr.
MAUY rr. 431
Holland throu{?hout the latter part of October and the

beginning of November he was detained by the Freneh
:
fleet. He arrived, however, at Margate on the 12th of

November his queen met him at Rochester, and they
;
travelled safely to Kensington." The king opened his par-

liament next day. After voting thanks to the queen for her
courage and firm administration, the parliament proceeded
to impeach her favourite prime-minister, then duke of
Leeds, for the infamous corniption of his government;
hkewise John Trevor, the late speaker, for recei>iug
sir
bribes himself, and for distributing them in the house of

commons. In the course of these inquiries the names of
her majesty's immediate attendants, if not her owii, were
compromised. The following passage on this herA. is ab

stracted from the scanty details preserved in the journals f «
the house of lords. Sir Thomas Cooke, the chairman, 'uid

sent a bribe on the part of the Ea^t-Tudia comp-- \ to the
lord president of queen Mary's cabinet-council, (thi^ mar-
quess of Carmarthen,^) by sir Basil Firebrass, which gen-
tleman further deposed, " That they found great stops in
the charters, which they apprehended proceeded, sometimes
from my lord Nottingham, the queen's lord chamberlain, and
sometimes from others; that colonel Fitzpatrick received
one thousand guineas on the same terms as the others, on
condition that the charter passed; that he pretended great
interest with lord Nottingham, and that he could get infor-
mation from the lady Derby [mistress of the robes] how the
queen's pleasure was?''^ Lord Nottinr.;ilir^,n, the same depo-
nent declared, " rejected a ])vibe of five thousand guineas
indignantly." It is found that colonel Fitzpatriek died
soon after the queen; no one, therefore, could ascertain
whether he had been calumniated, or whether he had him-
self insinuated calumnies on her majesty and her mistress (I
> Ralph's History, vol. ii. p. 635.

* Ponnerly lord Danby, afterwards marquess of CariTiarthen, then duke of
4t pt
Leeds. The passage is from Parliamentary Debates in England, printed 1739;

vol. iii. p. 23.
* Parliamentary Debates in England, printed 1739, vol. iii. p. 23. Mi:-' ;ll
—
432 MARY II.
of the robes. All that need be said on this head is, that
queen Mary, in her letters, displays no tendency to any
unrighteous acquisition of the public money. Tlie fatal
illness under which her majesty succumbed immediately
after the parliamentary inquiries on this head, which com- —
menced in the house of commons on the king's return,
at once interrupted the examination, and spared the queen
the confusion of finding proved the foul deeds of which her
ministers were capable. The long-disputed bill, limiting
parhaments to three years' duration, was brought in the
same autumn it did not seem more palatable to the elective
:
king and queen than to their predecessors.

Whilst these troubles and disgraces were impending, a
disaster occurred which greatly agitated and distressed queen
Mary. She was at Whitehall chapel, November 24, when
the service suddenly ceased archbishop Tillotson, who was
:
ofl&ciating before her majesty, was silenced with a stroke of

paralysis; he never spoke again, but died a few days after-
hi. wards. Archbishop Tillotson had grown excessively fat and

coi-pulent at the time of his death. Notwithstanding his
florid and exuberant condition of person, his friends con-
sidered that his life had been shortened by the sorrow and
li"
dejection which his elevation had brought on him.^ Just
as archbishop Tillotson expired, a lady came into the apart-
ment where her majesty was and said, she believed
sitting,
*'
that all the dignified clergy had come to court that day,
to show themselves." The queen replied, '' There is one I
am sure is absent, which is the dean of Canterbury." Some
of the company observed, " that not one was missing." A
lady of the queen's household, who knew dean Hooper, went
out to see she returned and said, " He is not there."
;
" No," replied the queen, " I can answer for him. I knew
he was not there."
' Life of Tillotson. There were found in the possession of iirchbisliop
Tillotson numerous containing the most fdrious threats against his life,
letters,
and revilings of his character; he had endorsed these words on the packets, " I
have read these letters, I thank God calmly, and may the writers forgive them-
selves as easily as I forgive them."
MARY II. 433
All trifles make a strong impression when connected with

unexpected death : superstition is at such times very active.
It will be remembered that Dr. Hooper had declared
to queen Mary, that the great walnut-tree which kept the
people from seeing her when she sojourned at his deanery
at Canterbury, should be cut down; by a curious accident,
it was felled at the very moment of Tillotson's death, who,
as the story goes, had planted it with his own hand when he
was dean of Canterbury.'
Again was queen Mary made responsible in the eyes of
all England for the choice of the primate of the English
church; once more it fell on a man who had not been

educated in its creed this was Dr. Tennison, who was soon
:
after raised to the archbishopric of Canterbury. The nomi-

nation did not please all queen Mary's courtiers; among
others lord Jersey, the brother of Elizabeth Villiers. He
reminded her majesty, " that Dr. Tennison had been much !l^
contemned for preaching a funeral sermon, and at the same

time pronouncing a high panegyric over a woman so infa-
mous as Nell Gwynne, for the lucre of fifty pounds, which
thatperson had provided for the purpose in her will."
'Hill. 'II.
Queen Mary showed more discomposure of countenance at

this remonstrance than she ever betrayed before on any
51!
occasion. " What then " she replied, after a pause of great
!
confusion. " No doubt the poor woman was severely peni-

tent, or, I am sure, by the good doctor's looks, he would
i
have said nothing in her praise."^ Queen Mary might have

defended Dr. Tennison far better, by mentioning his conduct
of Christian heroism in Cambridge dm-ing the horrors of the
plague, when he acted both as physician and clergyman:
she knew it not, or she would have urged so noble a plea.
Her wishes really were, that Dr. Stillingfleet shoidd be pro-
• Hooper MS.; but a walnut-tree of thirty or thii'ty-tluree years' growth
could not have been a large one.
Bio. Brit. Mistress Nelly was in the enjoyment of 1500^. per annum, which
'^
had been secured to her by James II. —

Clarendon Biary, Appendix, p. G54. It
is said, that out of gratitude she turned papist, but recanted when times changed,
or queen Mary would not have entered on her defence. Nelly had left fifty
pounds for her funeral scnnon. Dr. Tennison's panegyric, when earning this
sum, cauMd no little scandal on the clerical character.
VOL. VII. F P
434 MARY II.
moted to the primacy. King "William's nomination of Dr.

•
Tennison was indaced by his controversial sermons against

the Roman-catholics. He had been bred as a physician, and
practised as such in the time of Cromwell.
The queen, for many days, could not mention Tillotson
without tears; the king was likewise much affected by his
death. Indeed, since her majesty had witnessed the primate's
mortal stroke, she had neither appeared well, nor in spirits.
The royal pair were residing at Kensington-palace, with the
intent to pass the Christmas in retirement, when the queen
became seriously indisposed on the 19th of December. She
took some slight remedies, and declared herself well the next
day. The remedy thus mentioned was a noxious spirituous
cordial, that the queen usually took in large doses when
ill, against which her faithful physician. Dr. Walter Harris,
affirms'* he had vainly warned her, explaining to her that it
was many degrees stronger, and more heating, than the usual
strength of brandy; and that such draughts, for a person
of her corpulence and sanguiferous complexion, were like to
be fatal, in case of eruptive diseases. After swallowing this
stimulant, it can scarcely excite surprise that her illness
returned in the course of a few hours. "The next day,"
says Burnet,^ " which was the 20 th of December, she went
abroad, but could not disguise being ill." How truly the
queen anticipated the result, may be found from her conduct
and employment. She sat up nearly all that night in her
cabinet, burning and destroying papers, on which she did not
wish the public, at any future time, to pass judgment.
Burnet praises this action, as one of great consideration
tovards " people whom these papers would have committed,
1 Burnet's MS., Harleian Collection, 6584.

* Dr. Harris's Letter on Qneen Mary's Case of Smallpox united with
Measles. It is a warning against the heating system of treating smallpox this
:
salutary remonstrance saved myriads of lives aiterwards. The physician attri-

butes thi fatal termination of Mary's illness to her spirituous cordial, which,
against the advice of Dr. Harris, was her specific in all cases of indisposition.
Once or twice previously, he says, it had nearly destroyed her he supposes she
:
took a double dose of it after her relapse, and thus her case waa rendered utterly
despe™te. , Burnet's MS., Harleian Coll.
Pf'i
P'V.v I i I
:
MARY IT. 435
if seen after she was no more." Queen Mary was certainly

anxious that these documents should not commit her me-
mory, and took a sure way of depriving biographers of them.
Yet by those which remain, dark mysterious surmises are
raised regarding the portentous nature of those destroyed.
What state secrets were those which could induce her to M
keep a solitary her closet at Kensington in a Decem-
vigil in
ber night, and, with death in her veins, devote herself to the
task, at once agitating and fatiguing, of examining and de-
stroying important papers? What thoughts, what feelings,
must have passed through the brain of queen Mary on that
awful night, thus alone —
with her past life, and with ap-
proaching death Strange contrast between an unfortunate
!
father and a fortunate daughter James II. preserved every

:
document which could cast light on his conduct, valuing

their preservation before life itself;' Mary II. destroyed all
in her power which could give the stamp of certainty to her

personal history. The queen finished her remarkable occu-
pations on that night by writing a letter to her husband on
the subject of Elizabeth Villiers, which she endorsed, " Not
to be delivered, excepting in case of my death," and locked
it in an ebony cabinet, in which she usually kept papers of
consequence.
As might have been anticipated, queen Mary was exceed-
ingly indisposedon the day succeeding these agitating vigils.
Her disorder was, however, some two or three days after-
wards, supposed to be only the measles, and great hopes were
entertained of her recovery; but on the identity of her
malady her physicians could not agree, Dr. RadclifFe de- —
claring that she would have the measles, and Dr. Millington
the smallpox.'* Burnet affirms, that the fatal turn of her
malady was owing to Dr. Radcliffe, in remarkable words,
which are not to be found in his printed history, as follows
" I will not enter into another province, nor go out of my
» little doubt that the box which Jumes risked his life to pre-
There can be
serve Gloucester was sinking, contained his memoirs aa far as they
when the
were written, and the vouchers on which they were founded.
» Ralph's History, p. 639.
P F 2
't
h
436 MARY IT.
own profession," saj^s Burnetts MS., "and so will say no

more of the physician's part but that it was universally con-
demned; so that the quecn^s death was imputed to the
unskilfulness and wilfulness of Dr. Radcliffe, an impious and
{ vicious man, who hated the queen much, but virtue and
religion more. He was a professed Jacobite, and was by
many thought a very bad physician
but others cried him
;
up to the highest degree imaginable. called for, and He was

it appeared but too evidently his opinion was depended on.
Other physicians were called when it was too late all symp- :
III
')
toms were bad, yet still the queen felt herself well."^ Rad-
cliffe^s mistake was, taking the smallpox for the measles ; but
this is an idle charge, since the proper treatment for the one
eruptive disease would by no means render the other mortal.
The truth was, the queen was full and large in person, some-
what addicted to good living, both in regard to food and
wine she likewise drank rich chocolate at bed-time. Small-
:
pox, and even measles, are dangerous visitations to patients

of thirty-two with similar habits. Nor is Dr. Radcliffe
answerable for the queen's high-fed condition and luxm'ious
m habits, as he was not her household physician,^ and therefore

not bound by his duties to give advice in regard to dietary
temperance. The domestic physicians were the traitors, who
had failed to counsel the queen on the regulation of her
appetites.
While this desperate malady was dealing with the queen,
her sister, the princess Aime, and her ambitious favourite,
lady Marlborough, were startled from the torpor they had
long suffered at Berkeley-house, into a state of feverish ex-
pectation of the sudden importance which would accrue to

them if her majesty^s illness prove I I'atal. The princess
A.nne was then in a dubious state of health herself, for drop-
1 So written. Burnet's MS., Harleian, 6524.

* Dr. Radcliffe was considered the most skilful physician of his day. Ho
really was a Jacobite he attended the revolutionary sovereigns very unwillingly,
:
and studied to plague them with vexatious repartees. Nevertheless, they all iu-
Bisted on receiving his medical assistance. He has been separately bhuDcd for
killing queen Mary, king William, the duke of Gloucester, and queen Anne,
either by his attendance or "his uon-attondance.
i
nil I
MARY II. 437

p
sical maladies impaired her constitution. She flattered her-
!l
self with hopes of an increase to her family ; in consequence,

she confined herself to the house, and passed the day con-
stantly reclining on a couch.* Thus the princess was pre-
vented hy the infirmity of her health from visiting the sick- ill'
bed of her from whose chamber there is every reason

sister,
to believe she would have been repulsed. Although queen

Mary was in a very doubtful state on the morning of the
32nd of December, king William left Kensington, and gave
his royal assent in the house of lords to the important bill i::;:i'i'îii
for passing triennial parliaments. It is supposed his fore-

sight led him to this measure; since, in the case of the
queen's death, and the consequent weakening of his title to
the crown, he could not have yielded this concession with
equal dignity.^
No regular intercourse took place between the palace at
Kensington and Berkeley-house, and all the intelligence of
whatever passed in either household was conveyed by the
ex-official tattling of scrMints of the lower grade laundresses :
questioned nurses, or ushers carried the tales thus gathered.

All was in the dark at the princess's establishment as late as
Christmas-day, o.s., respecting the malady of the queen,
when Lewis Jenkins was sent to obtain information of Mrs.
Worthington, the queen's laundress, regarding how her
majesty really was. The news thus gained was, however, by
no means correct. "As I loved the queen much," says Lewis
Jenkins, "I was transported Avith hearing she had rested
well that night, and that she had not the sn^; ilpox, but the
measles. The queen was much beloved. Siie had found
the means of pleasing the people by her obliging deportment,
and had, besides, the command of plenty of money to give
away, which proved a pi v^crful persuasive with many for
:,iii
loving her. went into the duke of G^ >ncester's bedcham-

I
ber, where threw up my hat, and said, O be joyful !* T'je
I '
ladies asked me ' what I meant ?' I then related the good
news ; and the little duke said; * I am glad of it, with all my
1 Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborouirh.'4.n. 105=
i_»
* Ral])h's History, p. 535. H\

138 MARY II.
heart !'
But the next day, wlien I went to inquire at the
pahiee after the queen, I was informed * that, in eonsequnicc
of being let blood, the smallpox had turned 'ilixck, and that
I 1
her majesty's death drew near, for nature w:w prt * nited
from workiMg her 1 was ihrn J.n'j in v\'aitiu{.T. and
course.'
talkinj": news with Mrs. \ânlcy> ona of iii.
ovo' the ill Itlc i
duke of Gloacestcr's women, ui a kw toiu;, imagiTi! that j ,-
the child couUl not hear our eo-.jversali. n, as he was playing

with George W'urdey. highnotii. suddenly exclaimed,
1 1 -s '
be joyful !' T licaring this, asked him v here he learnt that '
expression?' — 'Lrvvis, yon knov/,' »mid his highnew. 'Sir,*

said I, 'yesterday I cried, O be joj fnl
!' — ' Yc / rejoined the
queen's nephew; 'and row, to-(l;>y, yon mav sin^:-, l)c
riolcful whieh 1 wondered to hear.'

!' '
Tl danger of the queen being thus matter of notoriety

thi ighout the corridors and servants' offices of Campdon
y
ai)d J J'tIcc ley-houses, the princess Anne thought it time to

send a lady of her bedchamber with a message, entreating
lier majesty '*to believe that she vias extremely eoueerncd
for her illness ; and that if her majesty would allow her tlie
happiness of waiting on her, she would, notwithstanding the
condition she was in, run any hazard for her satisfaction."
This mcssaf^c was delivered to the queen's first lady, benig
lady Derhy, wlio went into the royal bedchamber and deli-
vered it to hcr'majesty. A consultation took place. After

some time, h.dy Derby came out again, and replied to the
messenger of the princess Anne, " that the king would send
an answer the next day." Had the queen wished to be re-
conciled to her sister, there was thvs opportunity, for this
message way sent some time beibre her death. No kind
familiar answer was returned from the dying queen to her
sister, but the following formal court notation, from the first
lady of her majesty to the lady of th^ princess :'*
"Madam,
" I am commaiuled by tlio king and queen 11 you, they desire you would
let the princess know they both thank her *
. . Ung and desiring to come;
• Lewis Jenkins' llistor- S'l 3, Brit. Museum.

» Conduct of the Dv \ .•': 01 Mariijorougii.
ii\-'
MARY II. 439
but It l)oing thnuglit ho necessary to kmp t)io ciuecn as quiot bjb (Kuisiblc, hope she
will (lufur it. 1 uni, iiuidum, your lu(lyHhi])'H iiioHt 1inml)lo scrvunt,
" E. I)£RUY.
" P.S. — Pray, iniuliiin, jtrcwnt my hiniiblu duty to the priiiccHB."
The unusual civility of the postscript astonished the little
court at Jicrkelcy-housc. The deductions drawn from it
were prophetical of the fatal termination of the queen's ill-
ness, but not a single expression indicative of human feeling

(r yearning kindness towards the sufferer is recorded by lady
[) was playiiif?
Marlborough as falling from the princess Anne, whether such
were the case or not. The politeness of lady Derby's post-
script, who had been previously remarked for her insolence
to the princess, "made us conclude," observes lady Marl-
borough, " more than if the whole college of physicians had
pronounced was mortal."
it, that her disease
Many some individuals belonging to the
persons, and even
household of the princess, were allowed to see the queen in
her sick chamber ; therefore it was concluded, that deferring
the proposed visit of the princess was only to leave room for
continuing the quan'cl in case the queen should chance to
recover, while, at the same time, it left a possibility of a poli-
tical reconciliation with the king in case of her majesty's
death.' Such were the surmises and proceedings at Ber-
keley-house while death, every hour, approached nearer to
queen Mary. The king certainly despaired of his consort's
life," for the next day, (December 26,) " says Burnet, " he
called me into his closet, and gave a free vent to the most
tender passions. He burst into tears, and cried out aloud
'
from being the happiest, he was going to be the most
that,
miserable creature on the earth;' adding, 'that, during their
whole wedlock, he had never known one single fault in his
queen. There was, besides, a worth in her that nobody knew
besides himself, though / [Burnet] might know as much of
"
her as any otluv person did.'
As the queen's iUness fluctuated, the princess Anne and
lady Marlborough became unji:overnably agitated with their
hopes and fears; and as 'iiey could obtain no intelligence !.i;'. :1l
which they could trust, they at last resolved to despatch lady

'•
Conduct of the Duchess of a'iriborough, p. 106.
!"'.-
.Ill
410 MARY ir.
Fitzharding to Kensington-palace, where she undertook to

see the queen and speak to her. Accordingly, charged
with a dutiful message to her majesty, the lady Fitzharding
"broke in," whether the queen's attendants "would or not;"
and approaching the bed where her majesty was, made
her speech, to express "in how much concern the princess
Anne was." The dying Mary gasped out, "Thanks," and
the lady Avent back to her princess with a report that her
kind message had been very coldly received.' Lady Fitz-
harding had means of knoAving the private feelings of the
ttii queen towards the princess, because her majesty was sur-
rounded by the brothers and sisters of that lady. The real
tendency of the mind of the king, as well as that of tlie
queen, was likewise known to lady Fitzharding through the
communication of her sister Elizabeth, his, mistress ; and if
we may credit the testimony of the Marlborough, she re-
ported that her majesty was most inimical to the princess
Anne to her last gasp. Without giving too much belief to a
witness of lady Marlborough's disposition, it may be ob-
served that the whole bearings of the case tend to the same
, t'
conclusion. Another contemporary lady of the household
afl&rms, that the queen "was sinking fast into uncorscious-
ness when lady Fitzharding forced herself into her bedcham-
ber, and that the single Avord she spoke was indeed all she
was able to utter."
The face of the queen was covered m iih the most violent
erysipelas the Friday before her death. Dr. Walter Hams,
who sat up with the queen from the seventh night of her
illness, in his letter extant describing her symptoms of the
dreadful martyrdom she suffered, attributes these terrific
eruptions to the hot doses she swallowed on the first attack
of the disease. A frightful carbuncle settled just over the
heart; and smallpox pustules, Avhich he compares to the
plague-spots, are mentioned by him, Avith other evils which
the queen endured too terrible for general perusal. When
these alarming indications appeared, her physicians de-
clared to her husband that there remained no hopes of her
' Conduct of the Ducliess of Marlborouuh. n. 107.
'•f 'i
MARY 11. 441
life. He received the intelligence with every sign of des-

pair. He ordered his camp-bed to be brought into the
chamber of his dying consort, and remained with her night
and day, while she struggled between life and death. It is
possible that he was desirous of preventing any thing that
she might say respecting the events of her past life. Our
authority, however, declares that his demeanour was most
aflFectionate, and that " although greatly addicted to the plea-
sures of eating, he never tasted food during three succes-

sive dreadful days."* He stifled the noise of his asthmatic
cough so effectually, that the queen, now and then starting
from her lethargic doze, asked " where the king was ? for she •Liiil
did not hear his cough." ^ "When the desperate condition

of her majesty," says Burnet, " became evident to all around
lier,archbishop Tennison told the king that he could not
do his duty faithfully, without he acquainted lier with her
danger. The king approved of it, and said, 'that whatever
might have, he would not have her deceived in so
efifect it
important a matter.' The queen anticipated the communi-

cation of the archbishop, but showed no fear or rlisorder
upon it. She said she thanked God she had always carried
*
this in her mind, that nothing was to be left to the ias^

hour she had nothing then to do, but to look up to God
:
and submit to his will.' She said 'that she had wrote her
mind on many things to the king;' and she gave orders to
look carefully for a small escritoire she made use of that
was in her closet, which was to be delivered to the king.
Having despatched that care, she avoided giving herself or
her husband the tenderness which a final parting might have
raised in them both." When it is remembered, "•^-t the
casket the queen was thus careful to have put into h.^ nands
contained the letter of complaint and reproof written by her
at the time of her memorable vigil in her cabinet at Ken-
sington, it is difficult to consider that Mary died on friendly
• Inedited French MS., in the Bibliothfeque du Roi, of which the above is a
transHf.un. No. 1715.
* and Secret History of the Kings and Queens of England, by a
Peioi,,; \ji Honour. From the library of his royal highness the late duke of
Sussex.
442 MARY II.
terms witli lierhusband, or that her refusal to bid him fare-

well proceeded from tenderness. "The day before she died/'
continues Burnet, " she received the sacrament all the :
bishops M'^lio ^vcn.• attending were permitted to receive it with

her,- -Gvjd li.no ws, a sorrowful coni])any, for we were losing
her who was our chief hope and glory on earth.*'* "The
queen, after receiving the sacrament, comjjosed herseh so-
lemnly to die ; she slumbered some time, but said that slie
was not refreshed by it, and that nothing did her good but
prayer. She tried <jucb oi f.nce to say something to the
king, but could not go through with it. She laid silent for
some hours, and then some words came from her, whicli
showed that her thoughts began to break."* The queen's
mind, in fact, wandered very wildly the day before she ex-
pired. The hallucinations with which she was disturbed
were dreary, and the nature of them certainly indicates that
somewhat remained on her mind, of which she had not
It" spoken. Her majesty mysteriously required to be left alone
vith archbishop Tcrn)Ison, as she had something to tell liim,
M¥.
and her chamber was cleared in consequ» ;e. The aroh
bishop breathlessly expected some extraordinary communica-
tion. The dying queen said, " I wish you to look behind
that screen, for Dr. Radcliffe has put a popish nurse upon
me, and thiit woman is always listening to what I want to
say. She lu lis behind that screen; make her go away.
That womiin is a great disturbance to me."'

The opish nurse, ieh the queen fancied that her Jacob-
^
ite physician, Dr. Radcliffe, had " put upon her," was but
an unreal phantom, the coinage of her wandering brain.
Her father's friends, v lio were more numerous in her palace
than she was aware of, fancied that, ûstead of describing
* Burnet's History of His C n Times. This writer (or his interpolator) slurs
.
over the ciroumstana' he q- een's (lc])arture without reconciliation with her

sister. Sarah of Mar ipl testimony is, wc think, better deserving belief,
because her words arc s [iportc by circumstantial detail and documents. She
asserts " that queen Mary depar'êd in enmity to her sister j that no message toas
sent to the princess." Moreover, in three several versions of the queen's death
among Burnet's MSS., Harleian Collection, Brit. Museum, the passage does not
occur; neither is the name of the princess mentioned in the course of them.
* Burnet. * Ealph, vo!. ii. p. 540.
MARY 11. 448
I him farc- this spectre to arclibihi.op Tcnnison, she was confessing

; she died," her filial sins to him. A contemporary of queen Mary
it : uU the uses these rcmarka])le words, when mentioning the inter-
:eive it with view " But whether she had any scruples relating to her
:
were losing father, and they made part of her discourse with Tcnnison,
!."» "The and that arch-divine took upon his own soul the pressures
herseU so- which, in these weak unguarded moments, might wei^h
lid tliat she upon hers, must now remain a secret unto the last day.'
Br good but The story, however, of tlie phantom-nurse that perplexed
hiug to the queen Mary's last moments, was told by archbishop Tennisou
id silent for himself to the historian, l)ishop White Kennet."
her, which It was supposed, on the Sunday evening, that the queen
riie queen's was about to expire, which information was communicated

fore she ex- to the king, who fe'l fainting, and did not recover for half
is disturbed an hour that day lie had swooned thrice. Mar.'y of his
:
idicatos that attendants thoui,'ht that he would die the first.'^ Queen
she had not INlary breathed her last, between night and momii.g, on
be left alone the 2Hth of December, 1G91,' in the sixth year of her reign,
;
to tell him, and the thirty-third of her age. The moment the breath
The aroh left her body, the lord chancellor commanded the great
communica- s«'al to be broken, and another made on wliich the figure
ook behind of William III. was impressed solus.*
nurse upon ARoman-catholic priest,^ Avho was a spy of the Jacobites,
at I want to had been roaming round Kensington, watching for intelli-
.1:31
ler go away. ice during the awful three days while Mary II. struggled
and death. He had the opportunity of receiv-
tii'tweeii life
it her Jacob- ing the news of her demise, probably from lord
earliest
," was but Jersey, who was secretly of his religion. The ])riest departed '!|j
ering brain, before dawn on the night of the queen's dtath he meant ;
in her palace » in the Bibliotheque du Roi, Paris, No. 1715.

MS. « Ibid.
'
This is old style. The French tlate her death Jaintary 7, 1695.
af describing * MS. of the Biblioth&que du Roi. Tlic great st>al of ^\'illiam and Mary
represents them enthroned, sitting with an altar between them ; upon it is
nterpolator) slurs
with her resting the globe of sovereignty, on which they each place a hand. In the ii
liliation
belief,
revorse, London is n resented in the back-ground ; but it is old London before
deserving
the fire, for old St. 1 lul's is very clearly represented, and, to make the matter
documents. She
teas stranger, the monument is introduced. Mary and William are equestrian
. no message
figures uncrowned; he is like a Roman emperor, in profile, while the queen
the queen's death
passage does not
rse of them.
turns her face full on him. Her hair is dressed high in front, and streams over
the shoulder before her she is represented wholly without ornament.
:
* DanceaUj vol. iii. p. 512.

m
444 MAUY II.
to tnko hit" speediest courNo to St. OpriUiiins, but lie fell
ill of a violent lever at Ahbeville, probably tbe nsult ol' his

noeturnal peranibulatioiis in llydr-park or Kensui^ton-jijar-
tleiis ill l)eeeml)er. Tbis iMtelli|j!;eiieer of Mary's detiiisc
biiiisflC remained between lii'c and deatb Cor tbree d;ivs.
At last be reeovered suirunently to des|)ateh a messenger to
.lames J I. at St. (lernuiins, wlio scut, forthwitb, ouc ol' bis
gcutUMuen to luMir bis tidinjâ.'
Tbc report of tbe illness of JMary II. bad been current iu
Franco for several days, b\it iu tbe absence of autbentic
intellififenee all sorts of rnuu)urs prevailed ; anu)n^ others,
"tbat sbe bad reeovered, and tbat William III. was dead."
Tb<' ri^bt version of tbe tidinj^s spread over Fraiu;e when
kin^ James's uiessenjifer returned from the pri(;st's siek-bcd
at Abbeville, January l.'Ub, n.s. Madanu; de Sevifiîut uumi-
IP tions tbesc eiri'umstauces iu ber h'tters, and sbc îveb Mary
II. as an instance of tbo transitory nature of all unnulauc
*'
Sbc was," says ber ilhistrious contemporary,
W j^lori(\s.
"but tbirty-tbree; sbc >vas beautiful, she was a rei^nin<;

queen, and sbe is dead in three days. But tbo ji^reat news
is, tluit tbo ])riiui< of Oranf>;e (William III.) is assuredly
very illthough tbe uudady of bis w ife was contafjfious,
; for
he never quitted ber, and it is tbe will of (Jod that he
will not quit ber long." William 111., however, bore on his
face marks wbieb entirely secured bim from any danger
respecting tbo contagious malady of Mhieb bis queen died;
and if bo was very ill at tbo time of ber deatb, bis uudady
did not arise from the smallpox. When the news was con-
^r-
firmed of the deatb of JNlary, ber fatber shut himself up
in bis apartnuMits ami refused all visits; he obs(>rve(l the
mourning of solitude and tears, but he would not wear black
for her death.''
James II. likewise sent to Louis XIV. to request him not
to wear mourning for his daughter, and not to order a court-
I
mourning. Otherwise, as she was so nearly allied to the
hi king of France, being the grand-daughter of his aunt, this
' An ineclit*;d MS. iu the HiWiothoqu,' vhi Itoi, in Freneli, nuirked 1715.
''
Dungeuu, vol. iii. p. 512.
MATIV II. urt
order would luivtf iippcnrcd, altliou^li it woidd have hvv.u u r\.
threat uhsurdity (loiisidcrinf; the dciidly wur suhsistiiifj;, wliicli
n(m>iiumI more ixTsoiiid tluiii niitioiui), hetwiMMi tlit^ f'uiiiilirH of

()raMfi;e, Stiicrt, and Hourhoii. Soiru; of the old iiohility of
France claimed kitidred witli the house of Oranjê; anioii}^
others, were the dukes de Uouillon and Duras, who thought
fit to assume they wen; sternly commanded hy
ruourniii}^:
Louis XIV. "to put it olf.'" The duke de St. Simon
hlanicH the royal order as a petty vcMifêanee. This acute
observer is amonjj; the f(^w writers who do justice to the
f^rcat abilities of Mary in ôverniiuMit; at tin; same time,
\iv hilars th(! testimony of a contemporary, " that she waH
mu(!h more bitten* against her father than was her husband.'*
The conduct of James II. was inlluen(;ed by the horror
which he felt at asccirtainiufij that his onccvbelovcd child
had expired without any messa};(! or expression of sor-
row and rcf^ret at the suHcrinj^s which she liad been the
means of causinj; him. Ih; observes, "that many of his
partisans fancied that her dcatli would pave the way for
his r(!storati()n/' but he nuidc no additional efforts on tliat
account; indeed he says, "the event only caused him the
additional affliction of seeinj; a child, whom he loved so
tenderly, persevere; to her death in such u sij^nal state of
disobedience and disloyalty, and to find her extolled for
crimes as if they were the highest virtues by the mer-
cenary flatterers around lier. Even archbishop Teimison
reckoned amonj^ her virtues, " adds king Jam(;s, " that
she had got the better of all duty to her parent in con-
sideration of her religion and her country; and that, even
if she had done aught blameworthy, she had acted by the
advice of the most learned men in the church, who were

answerable for it, not she."'* When king James heard
this reported speech, he cried out, " Oh, miserable way of
arguing fatal to the deceiver and to the deceived.
! Yet
by this very saying, she discovered both her scruple and
her apprehension." lie declared himself " much afflicted
' Dangeau, vol. iii. p. 512, and St. Siinon, vol. i. p. 255.
' MeinoirH of Jumcs II., edited by Stiinier Chirk.
I
446 MARY II.
at her death, and more at her manner of dying;" and

I
affirmed, "that both his children had lost all bowels of

compassion for him; for the princess of Denmark, not-
withstanding her professions and late repentance, now ap-
peared to be satisfied with the prince of Orange, (William
Kl !
III.). Though he had used her ill, and usurped her right,
yet she preferred that he should remain, rather than her
father, who had always cherished her beyond expression,
^
should be restored."
I
Archbishop Tennison delivered to the king the deceased

queen^s posthumous letter, together with a reproving message
she had confided to him. At the same time, he took the
liberty of adding a severe lecture to his majesty on the sub-
ject of his gross misconduct in regard to Elizabeth Villiers.
The king took this freedom in good part, and solemnly pro-
mised the archbishop to break ofi" all intimacy with her.
The queen's letter expressed to her husband the great pain
which his connexion with her rival had always given her.^
True to the personal forbearance which is a remarkable
feature in her conjugal life, she never complained, or told
the pangs she suffered from jealousy, till after her own death
had taken place but whether she could be considered to

;
expire in perfect peace and forgiveness to her husband when

she left written reproaches, exposing him at the same time
to the schooling of a stranger'' of rude manners on so delicate
a subject, is matter for consideration.
It ought to be reckoned among the other pains and penal-
ties of William III., that he was subjected to the admoni-
tions and exhortations of the dissenting-bred clergy whom
he had placed in the wealthiest church preferments, he
having avowedly not the best opinion of their disinterested-
ness of conversion. For Burnet he always manifested loath-
' MemoL's of James II., edited by Stanier Clark.
* Shrewsbury MSS., edited by Coxe.
3 That archbishop Tennison was a personal stranger both to the king and
queen, is especially noticed by Burnet. Tennison's appointment had been so
recent, on the death of his predecessor, archbishop Tillotson, that wlien he
ofticiated at the queen's death-bed, it was the first time he had conversed with
either.
MARY II. 44-7
ngj" and ing, —

which was uncontrollable, a feeling in which, we have
bowels of seen by her letters, his lost queen fully participated. Bavnet,
not- nevertheless, was among tlu^ most active of his lecturers on
lark,
now ap- the subject of future good behaviour, and, with infinite self- !, i
satisfaction, .lotes the result. " King William began then

(William
the custom, which he has observed ever since very exactly,
her right,
of going to prayers twice u-day; he entered upon very
than her
expression,
solemn and serious resolutions of becoming, in all things, an
exact Christian, and of breaking off all bad practices what-
e deceased
soever. He expressed a particular regard to all the queen^s
ttg message inclinations and intentions. He resolved to keep up her
family."^ Such declaration need not excite astonishment:
e took the
the sub- the " family " Burnet means, consisted, not of the queen's
)n
near relatives of the exiled royal house, but merely of her
;th ViUiers.
household servants; and if the duchess of Marlborough is
Lemnly pro-
to be believed, the king afterwards grumbled excessively at
T with her.
paying them the pensions he had promised in the height of
! great pain
these his well-behaved resolutions.
given her.^
" I confess," pursues Burnet, " that my hopes are so sunk
remarkable
with the queen's death, that I do not flatter myself with
.ed, or told
further expectations. If things can be kept in tolerable
: own death
order, so that we have peace and quiet in our days, I dare
nsidered to
look for no more. So black a scene of Providence as is now
sband when
same time
upon us, gives me many dismal apprehensions." ^ As to any n
1 so delicate
reconciliation of the princess Anne with the queen, it is
improbable that Burnet believed it took place, since the

Harleian contains three different copies of the queen's death
and penal-
from the bishop's pen; and although he speaks as an eye-
he admoni-
witness from beginning to end, he mentions not the name of
ergy whom
the princess therein. Indeed, the odd and maladroit manner
rmcnts, he
in which that assertion is introduced into the printed history,
sinterested-
many pages after its natural date, gives the whole incident a
'ested loath-
very suspicious aspect. The words are tlirust among the
cuiTcnt events far into the year 1695 ; they are a-propos to
nothing connected with chronological order, and are as fol-
the king and
tit had been so lows " The queen, when she was dying, had received a kind
:
that when he message from, and had sent a reconciling message to, the
conversed with
> Harleian MS., 6584. « Burnet's MS., Harleian Colled 'on.
— '
448 MARY II.
princess, so that breach was made up. 'Tis true the sisters
did not meet; 'twas thought that might throw the queen
into too great a commotion."
While preparations were being made for tlie queen's fune-
ral, a great number of elegies and odes were written in
praise of her majesty. But poetic talent, excepting in the
line of lampoons, was very scarce among the revolution-
ary party; and as the elegies excited either laughter or
•i'4
contempt, the public press of the day indulged in furious
abuse of Dryden, because no panegyric on the queen ap-
peared from his pen. "It is difficult," observes sir Walter
Scott, "to conceive in what manner the deprived poet-
'^
laureate of the unfortunate James could have treated the

memory of his master's daughter." He granted her, at least
<(
.y on that occasion, the mercy of his silence. Dryden Avas,
however, appealed to, in order to decide " which of the nu-

merous eflFusions to the memory of queen Mary was the
—
best?" "Bad\v'as the best," was the very natural answer
of one of the classical poets of England ; buv being pressed
to pronounce a more distinctive verdict, he said, " that the
ode by the duke of Devonshire^ was the best." Among the
royal elegies were included some perpetrations in the pathetic
line by the hard, sarcastic profligates, Prior, Congreve, and
Swift.* Sir Walter Scott suspects that the ducal strains
' Burnet's Own Times, editif)n 1823, with Dartmouth's, Onslow's, and Hard-
wicke's Notes, vol. iv. p. 157.
" Life of Drydei'.
" "
Its memory," says sir Waltor, " only survives in an almost equally
obscure funeral poem to the memory of William duke of Devonshire, in whicli
these- linta occur :
" 'Twas so when the destroyer's dreadful dart

Once pierced through oiirs to fair Maria's heart.
From his state helm then some short hours he stole,
T* indulge his melting eyes and bleeding soul.
Whilst his bent knees to those remains divine,
Paid their last ottering to that royal shrine."
No wonder that Walter Scott suspected the merits of the Devonshire tribute,
sir
after quoting this abstract of its contentsfrom some writer of less talent than
his grace. The duke of Devonshire was, at that time, one of the state-ministers,
and had always formed one among the council of nine.
Swift was at that time an expectant of place and profit from William III.,
under the patronage of sir William Temple.
,
^•."
.
— ; ! ;
MARY II. 449
were in reality the worst, but they eluded his research.

lie sisters
They exist at length in the Harleian collection, and prove
he queen
that Dryden spoke as an honest critic, for they are far supe-
rior to the professional poetry published on the occasion.
en's fnne-
They preserve, withal, some historical allusions; thus, the
jvritten in
queen is given the credit of tears she either shed, or feigned
ng in the
to shed, at her coronation, although other witnesses have
evolution-
recorded dark words which escaped her on that occasion
lUghter or
against her father's life :
in furiouy
queen ap- "Odb by the Duke of DEVONsninE on the Death of Mabt II.
" Long our diviacd state,

sir Walt( r
Hinig in the balance of a doubtful fate
Lved poet- When one bright nymph the gathering clouds dispelled.
reated the And all the griefs of Albion liealed.
Her the united land obeyed ;
er, at least
She knew her task, and nicely understood
cyden was, To what intention kings are made,—
of the nu- Not for their own, but for their people's good.
'Twas that prevailing argument alone
y was the Determined her to fill the vacivnt throne, *•
iral answer And with sadness she beheld

A crown devolving on her head.
ing pressed
<Hhat the By the excesses of a prince misled,
Wlien by her royal birth com}X;lled
Among the To what her God and what her country claimed,
le ptithetic Though by a servile faction blamed.
How graceful were the tears she shed
igreve, aud
* * * # *
ical strauis Wlien, waiting only for a wind,*
Against our isle the power of Fr.xnce was armed.
(v's, and Hiird- Her ruling arts in their true lustro shined
TiiP winds themselves were by her influence charmed
Hecure and undisturbed tlie s('«np
ilniost equally Of Albion seemed, and like her e^ s serene.
wliire, in wliicU
Fatal to the fair and young.
Accursed disease how long !
Have wretched mothers mourned tliy rage.

Robbed of the hope and comfort of tiieu' age ?
' This historical allusion is to the circumstances of thai king's last voyage from
Holland, which are not very creditable to the once-triumphant navy of Great
Britain, eBpeclally when joined to the Dutch marine forc^. " November, Tuesday
mishive tribute, 16, 1694. The prince of Orange [William IH.J embarked to go to England;
L'ss talent
than the wind beat him back twice, but he persevered, and finally sailed with a fine
Btate-ministers, day. His squadroii was strongly reinforced, as he had been told that Jean Bart
was watching for him." —
Memoirs of Dangeau. William had been waiting all
n William IU-, the month for a passage, lest Jean Bart should intercept him.
VOL. VII. G G
!'!i;V|
450 MARY II.
From the unhappy lover's side.

How often hiutt thou torn the blooming bride ?
Common disasters sorrow raise,
Hut Heaven's severer frowns amaze.
The queen ! a word, a sound,
Of nations onec the ho])e and iirni support.
That name becomes unutterable now j
The crowds in that dejected court

Where languishing Maria lay.
Want power to ask the news they come to know
Silent their droojiing heads they bow,
Silence itself proclaims the universal woe.
Even Maria's latest care,'
Whom winter's seasons, nor contending Jove,
Nor watchful fleets could from his glorious purpose move.
Now trembles, now he sinks beneath the mighty weight,—
The hero to the man gives way."''
Swift^s Pindaric ode on the queen of his supposed patron

exists in the Athenian Oracle it cannot be worse. In the
:
Life of Sir William Temple, supposed to be written by Swift,

it is asserted " that lady Temple died within a month of her
majesty, out of sheer grief for her loss.^' A great compli-

ment to the queen, but a doubtful one to sir William Temple,
who survived his lady.
The queen's memory was illustrated by an historical sermon
or oration, preached on occasion of her death by Burnet.
These pages cannot, however, be illumined from it by words
that glow and burn, such as floAvcd from the lips of the
eloquent Bossviet, when the character and misfortunes of
Henrietta Maria were given him for his theme. Biu-net's
obituary memorial on Henrietta Maria's grand-daughter
scarcely rises to the level of quaintness, and his distress
for facts on which to hang his excessive praises makes him
degenerate into quec nv^^s; for after lauding to the utmost
the love of queen ^lary II. for sermons, (being perfectly
ignorant of the bitter contempt she had expressed for his
own,) he falls into the following comical commendations :
" She gave her minutes of leisure with the greatest willingness to architecture
and gardenage. She had a richness of invention, with a happiness of contri-
vance, that had airs in it that Vfcrc freer and nobler than lohat was more stiff,
' William III.

* The would extend over many pages the necessity for brevity obliges
elegy :
UB to present only uu abstract, including all the personal allusions possible.
"^V"
MARY II. 451
though it might he more regular. She knew that this drew an expense after it:
sho had no inclinations hcsidus this to any diversions tliat were expenseful, and
since this employed many hands, she was pleased to say, that she hoped it
'
would bo forgiven her.' Yet she was uneasy when sho felt the weight of the
charge that lay upon it."
*'The gardenagc/' that had airs in it " freer than those that
were more stiff/' was, at the close of the seventeenth eentury,
completely on a par with the Dutch architecture perpetrated
by Mary and her spouse. Neither was worth placing in
the list of a queen-regnant's virtues. Perhaps the following
eulogy may sceni not greatly adapted for funeral oratory, yet
it has the advantage of giving a biographer an insight into
the routine of the pretty behaviour and sampler way
ncf! ':
of life that Mary II. mistook for high Christian virtues.

" When her eyes were endangered by reading too much, she
found out the amusement of work." It was no doubt a great
discovery on the part of her majesty, but her bad eyes had
nothing to do with it, for needle-work, point-stitch, tent-
stitch, tapestry-stiteh, and all the other stitches, to say
nothing of matching shades of silks and threadine^ needles,

require better eyesight than reading.
" In all those hours that were not given to ln-tter employment, she \vrought
with her own hands ; and sometimes with so constant a diligence, as if she had
been to earn her bread by it. It was a new thing, and looked like a sight, to
see a queen work so many hours a-day. She looked on idleness as the great
corruption of liunian nature, and believed that if the mind had no employment
given it, it would create some of the worat sort to itself; and she thought that
any thing that might amuse and divert, without leaving a dreg and ill impressions
beliind it, ought to fill n\> thost? vacant houi's which were not claimed by devotion
or business. Her exam])le soon wrought on, not only those that Iwlonged to her,
but the whole town to follow it, so that it became as nmch the fashion to work,
as it had been forme. iy to Ix; idle. In this, which seemed a nothing, and was
turned by some to be the subject of raillery, a greater step was made than
pcrliaps every one was aware o{ towards the bettering of tlie ao-e. While she
diverted herself thus witli work, she took care to give an entertainment to her
o'vn mind, an well aa to those who were admitted to the lumour of working
with her ; one was ;jpiioiut(!d to read to the rest ; the choice was suited to the
time of day and to the employment, — some book or poem that was lively as well
jvs instructing. — —
Few of her sex not to say of her rank gave ever less time to
dressing, or seemed less curious about it. Those parts w.ich required mi "e
patience loere not given vj) entirely to it."
This sentence is somewhat enigmatical ; indeed, the whole

sermon would prove a useful collection of sentences for those
grammarians, who teach a clear style by the means of ex-
fi o 2
—
452 MABY II.
Si posing faulty instances of involved composition. The truth

is, was at war with his words;
that the man's conscience
therefore those words became tortuous and contradictory.
M
He has dared to praise Mary II. for " filial piety/' knowiiifjr,
as he must have done better than any one else, how dif-
ferentlv shehad conducted herself. He himself has re-
corded, and blamed, her disgusting conduct at her arrival
. ^
at Whitehall ; but whether it is true that Mary sat compla-
cently to hear this very man grossly calumniate her mother,
rests on the word of lord Dartmouth. There is one circum-
stance that would naturally invalidate the accusation, which
is,that it was thoroughly against her own interest, a point —
which Mary never lost sight of; for if Anne Hyde was a
faithless wife, what reason had her daughter to suppose that
she was a more genuine successor to the British crown than
the unfortunate brother whose birth she had stigmatized?
Nevertheless, the same strain of reasoning holds good against
her encoiu*agement of the libellous attacks of the Dutch
polemical writer, Jurieu, on Mary queen of Scots. The
t
I,
hatred which her revolutionary policy caused her to express
for her unfortunate ancestress seems the more unnatural, on
accoimt of the resemblance nature had impressed on both,
insomuch that the portrait of Mary queen of Scots at Dal-
keith bears as strong a likeness to her descendant, Mary II.,
in features, when the latter princess was about eighteen, as if
she had assumed the costume of the sixteenth century, and
sat to the painter. The similarity of the autographs of sig-
nature between tlie two Mary Stuart queens, is likewise very
remarkable.
Perhaps the following odd passage in the Burnet pane-
gyric, means to affirm that queen Mary II. was unwilling to
be praised in public addresses :
" Here arises an unexampled piece of a character, which may be well begun
with ; for I am afraid it both begun and will end with her. In most jiersons,
even those of the truest merit, a studied management will, perhaps, appear with
a little too umch varnish like a nocturnal piece that hai a light cast through
;
even the most shaded parts, some disixisition to set oneself out, and some satis-
faction at being commended, will, at some time or other, show itself more or
less. Here we may appeal to great multitudes, to all who had the honour to
MARY IT. 453
!M
approach her, and particularly to thoBts who were admitted to the RreateHt
neurnesH, if at any one time any thing of tliis Hort did ever discover itself. When
duo acknowledgments were made, or decent things said ujM)n occasions that liud
well deserved them, (Clod knows how frcfpiont those were !) these seemed scarce
to bo heard : thoy were so little desired that they were ])re«ontly piissed over,
without so much as an answer that might seem to entertain the lUscourse, even
while it checked it."
Among other of queen Mary's merits are reckoned her

constant apprehensions " that the secret sins of those around
her drew down many judgments on her administration and
government," a theme on which she very piously dilates in
her letters to her hushand. Assuredly, an unnatural daugh-
ter, and a cruel sister, needed not to have wasted her time in
fixing judgments on the secret sins of other people. Amidst

this mass of affectation and contradiction, some traits are
preserved in regard to the queen's personal amiability in her
last illness, which redound far more to her credit than any
instance that Burnet has previously quoted; they have,
moreover, the advantage of being confirmed by a person
more worthy of beliefthan himself. This is archbishop Ten-
nison, who says, " As soon as the nature of the distemper
was known, the earliest care of this charitable mistress was
for the removing of such immediate servants as might, by
distance, be preserved in health. She fixed the times for
prayer in her own chamber some days before her illness
attained its height; she ordered to be read to her, more
than once, a sermon, by a good man now with God, (pro-
bably archbishop Tillotson,) on this text :
' What ! shall we
receive good from the hand of God, and not receive evil ?' " ^
Burnet adds, " Besides suffering none of her servants to stay

about her when their attendance might endanger their own
health, she was so tender of them when th.^y fell under that
justly-dreaded illness, that she would not permit them to be
removed, though they happened to be lodged very near her-
self." Such conduct comprehended, not only the high merit
of humanity, but the still more diflicult duty of the self-
sacrifice of personal convenience.
It does not appear, from Burnet's narrative, that any paî,
' Narrative of the Death of Queen Mary, by Dr. Tennison ; printed in White
Kennet's History, vol. iij.. p. 673. The sermon is by Tillotson.
45-1 MARY II.
of the Greenwich or Virginian endowments were bequeathed

by the queen from lier personal economy, — a circumstance
very needful to ascertain, when estimating the degree of
virtue appertaining to royal charit} The funds came from
the means of the miserable a^ d over-taxed people, then
groaning u.idcr the weight of government expenditure, in-

crea.sed at least thirty-fold, partly by the profligate corrup-
tion of the triumphant oligarcliy, and partly by her husband's
Flemish campaigns. Yet, as a legislatress, Mary deserves
i't
great praise for the projects of such institutions, since she
occasioned a portion of the public money to be directed to
virtuous uses, which otherwise would have been apphcd to
the above worthless purposes. From Burnet's narrative, it
is plain that the Virginian college was indebted to her as

legislatress, and not as foundress :
" The lust prcat project," says Burnet,' " that her thoughts were working on,
with relation to a noblo and royal provision for maimed and decayed seamen,
was particularly designed to l)e so constituted, as to put them iii a probable way
of ending tlieir days in the fear of God. Every new hint that way was enter-
tained by her with a lively joy she had some discourse on that head the very
;
day before she was taken ill. She took particular pains to he well informed of
the state of our plantations, and of those colonies that wi^ have among infidels;
but it was no small grii'f to her to hear, that they vêre but t<K) generally a
reproach to the religion by which they were named, (I do not say which tiny
professetl, for many of them seem scarce to profess it). She gave a willing cur
to a pro])osition which was made ior erecting scIumjIs, and the founding of a
college among them, [the Virginian foumlation]. She considered the whole
scheme of it, and the endowment which was desired for itj it was a noble one,
and was to rise out of some branches of the revenve,^ tvhieh made it liable to
objections, but she took care to consider tlie whole thing so well, that she licr-
stilf answered all objections, and espoused the matter with so aii'ectionate a con-
cern, that she prepared it for the king to settle at his coming over."
Burnet thinks proper William III. had "great

to assert, that
liking for good things," nieaninjj religious and charitiible
foundations ; and adds, with more veracity, " that tlie queen
always took care to give him tlic largest share of the liouour
of those effected by ber means."
The public papers notitied, with great solemnity, the cir-
1 Discourse on the Memory of the late Queen, by Gilbert Hurnet, lord bishop
of Sarum.
^ This assertion provM that the ipieen herself was not the foundress, as lier
income and property would have l>een at her own disposal. When the Ai:;'lo-
Norman and Plantagenet queens founded colleges and hospitals, they recpjirod
their consorts' -Ajusent to appri>priato the truits of their oivn economy for these
purposes, not the jmblic revenue.
MARY II. i55
cumstiance, tliat upon tlic queon's first indisposition the

greatest and cldeat lion in the Tower, who liad been there
about twenty years, and was commonly called * king Charles
II/s lion,' sickened with her, and died on the Wednesday
night, forty-eiglu niurs before her; "whicli was ominous,"
continues our authority, "affording us so much the more
matter of curiosity, because the like happened at the death
of Charles II., when another of these roval beasts made the
same exit' with the prince." Such coincidences occur fre-
quently enough in English history to raise the idea, that the
wardens of the wild beasts at the Tower considered it a point
of etiquette privately and discreetly to sacrifice a lion to the
manes of royalty, on the decease of any sovereign.
Poems on the death of the queen continued to be poured
out by the public press, during the extraordinary time which
occurred between her demise and her funeral. One of the
most singular of these elegies commences thus:'^
" Tlic great Inexorable seals his ears,
Deaf to our eries, nninelted by our tears j
The irrevocable posliuff iniindate flies.

!"
Torn from three kingdoms' grasping arms, she dies
After upbraiding Providence with some profane rant, an

allusion to the queen's tastes occurs in an apostrophe to her
favourite garden at hitchall, which a notification explains
led to the privy-stairs, or privat entrance, into the royal
apartments of that ancient palai :. As the name Privy-
gardens is still retained in the vicinity of the Banqueting-
house, this locality may be ascertained :
" And you, once royal plants, her little grove,

'Twixt Heaven's and William's dear divided love.
Her contcm])lative walk, close by whose side
Did the pleased 'I'hamos his silver current glide.
# * * « #
No opening, no unhallowed htuid may di-aw
The widov.ed curtains of her loved Nassau.
Despair, death, horror ! —
oh, be strong, great heart
Thou'st now to play thy mightiest hero's part.
Yes, great Xassau, the ])arting ciil .vas given;
Too dire divorce thy happier rival, Heaven,
!
T' its own embrace has snatched that darling fair,

Translated to immortal spousals there."
> Life of Mary II.: If j3. .» Ibid.

456 MARY U.,
The reader is spared some ratlier popish n])08trophes tc ^t.

Peter, the patron saint of Westmiuster-abl)ey, and tho great
civility lie is expected to show to her defunct majesty's re-
mains in opening-, with his own hand, t *, mortals of the holy
fane to allow the sumptuous velvet hearse to pass in, and the
still greater alacrity and joy with which he had admitted her
beautiful spirit at the narrow gate. An imaginary monu-
ment of the most and enduring marble is also ad-
costly
dressed, under the supposition that William would pay that
tribute of respect to the memory of his queen.
Lord whose headlong valour was infinitely esteemed
Cutts,
by king William, turned poet on the solemn occasion of
;h
Mary's death. Poetry from lord Cutts was as great a mira-
cle as " honey from the stony rock," since his qualifications
have descended to posterity in a terse line of Dryden or
Parnell, describing him,
\
" As brave and brainless as the sword he wears."
Unfortunately, it is scarcely possible to read the monody of

lord Cutts with elegiac gravity, on account of the intrusion
of absurd epithets :
" She's gone the beauty of our isle is fled.

!
I
Our joy cut off, the great Maria dead
Tears are too mean for her, our grief should be
Dumb as the grave, and black as destiny.
Ye fields and gardens, where our sovereign walked.
Serenely smiled, and profitably talked, ,
Be gay no more ; but wild and barren lie.

That all your blooming sweets with hers may die,
Sweets that crowned love, and softened majesty.
Nor was this angel lodged in common earth.

Her form proclaimed her mind as well as birth j
So graceful and so lovely, ne'er was seen

A finer woman, and more awful queen."
Lord Cutts breaks into strains of tender sympathy with the
queen's mourning maids of honour, all dressed in the deepest
sable :
" Ye gentle nymphs, that on her throne did wait.

And helped to fiU the brightness of her state ;
Whilst all in shining gold and purple dressed.
Your beauties in the fairest light were placed."
MARY II. 457
The king is then panef!:\TiztHl in very droll strains :
*'
Sec where the (florions Nuflsan ftiinting lies,
The miijhfy Atlas falls, the coiujueror ilies
O sir, revive! to Enghiud's help return.
Command your frrief, and liki' a hero mourn."
But when reading these eidogiun^, it requisite to call to >
mind that such sentiments were not felt by all the English
nation ; for Mary had )VC, div'flcd people, half of
whom were only kept d( n ir f a standing army
ruled by the lash, and by t! H' ^rjK'tual suspension of
the habeas corpus act. Nun >p] icnts took pleasure
in circulating, not elegies, ams on her memory. b u
The following have been prescrv manuscript, and were ,.
handed about in coffee-houses, where the literary lions of

the day congregated, every person of decided genius, from
Dryden to the marvellous boy Alexander Pope, being adverse
to her cause :
Jacobite Epitaph on Makt II.'
" Here ends, notwithstanding her specious pretences.

The undutiful child of the kindest of princes.
Well, here let her lie, for hy this time she knows.
What such a father and king to depose

it is
Between vice and virtue she parted her life,

She was tcK) bad a daughter, and too good a wife."
The observations preserved in the pages of Dangeau and of

madame Sevigne, relative to the expectation that William
III. would die of grief for the loss of his partner, are alluded
to in the second of these epigram epitaphs '.^ —
" Is Willy's wife now dead and gone ?
I'm sorry he is left alone.
Oh, blundering Death I do thee ban,
!
Tliat took the wife and left the man.

Come, Atropos, come with thy knife.
And take the man to his good wife
And when thou'st rid us of the knave,
A thousand thanks then thou shalt have."
When the news arrived at Bristol that the queen was dead,
many gentlemen gathered together in tii°i taverns, and passed
the night in dancing and singing Jacobite songs, while a large
mob assembled at the doors, shouting, " No ioreigners ! no
» Cole's MS. Collections, vol. xxi. p. 65. « Ibid.
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WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80
Sciences (716) 872-4503
Corporation
458 MARY II.
taxes \" These turbulent scenes were repeated at Norwich,

in Warwickshire, and in SuflFolk.* Political malice likewise
showed itself in another spiteful epigram :
"On the Death op Mabt II.»
" The queen deceased, the king so grieved,

'
. As if the hero died, the woman lived
Alas we erred i' the choice of our commanders.
!
He should have knotted, and she gone to Flanders."

Dr. Ken, the deprived bishop of Bath and Wells, who was
formerly chaplain to queen Mary in the first years of her
marriage, when she was in Holland, roused himself from his
peaceful retirement to write an indignant remonstrance to
Dr. Tennison on his conduct at the queen^s death-bed.
Ken charged the archbishop with compromising the high
functions of a primate of the English church, by omitting
" to queen Mary to repent, on her death-bed, of her sins
call
towards her father." Ken reminds Tennison, in forcible
terms, " of the horror that primate had expressed to him of
some circumstances in the conduct of the queen at the era of
the Revolution," which he does not fiiUy explain ; but what-
soever they were, he aflfirms that "they would compromise
her salvation, without individual and complete repentance."^
And here it is not irrelevant to interpolate, that a few
weeks before the death of queen Mary, her political jealousy
had been greatly excited by the fact that Ken, the deprived
bishop of Bath and Wells, was regarded by the reformed
cathoUc church of England as their primate, on account of
the recent demise of Bancroft, archbishop of Canterbury.
Mary had, therefore, molested her old pastoo and almoner,
nay, it may be said personal protector in her Orange court,
with a privy-council warrant, and dragged him to be ques-

tioned before her council. Ken made his appearance in
patched gaberdine; notwithstanding his pale face and thin
grey hairs, he was animated by moral courage of a high tone,
and the queen and council heard what they did not like.
> Inedited MS., Biblloth^que du Roi; likewise Warwickshire News-letter,

January 10, 1694-5. » State Poems.
* The pamphlet, printed at the time, may be seen among the collections at the
British Museum.
\
\
MARY II. 459
For want of other crimes, our church-of-England bishop was

charged with the oflPence of soliciting the charity of the
public, by a petition in behalf of the starving families of the
nonjuring clergy. " My " in king James's
lord,'' said he,
time, there were about a thousand or more imprisoned in my
diocese, who were engaged in the rebellion of the duke of
Monmouth, and many of them were such as I had reason to
believe to be ill men, and void of all religion ; and yet, for all
that, I thought it my duty to relieve them. It is well known
to the diocese that I visited them night and day, and I thank
God I supplied them with necessaries myself as far as I could,
and encouraged others to do the same ; and yet king James,
far from punishing me, thanked me for so doing."*
The dreadful eruptive disease of which the queen died did
not prevent the usual process of embalming, the account of
which is extant in MS., dated 29th December, 1694. ^"^* '^
"THE Bill pob ths Umbalmenf OF the Body of Heb Majesty, by

Db. Habel, Heb Majesty's Apothecaby.
" For perftimed Sparadrape, to make Cerecloath to wrap the Body in, and to
Line the Coffin ; for Rich Gummes and Spices, to stuff the body ; for Compound
dryinge Powders perfiimed, to lay in the Coffin Under the Body, and to fill up
the Ume, [where the heart and viscera were enclosed]; for Indian Balsam, Recti-
fyed Spirrits of Wine Tinctured with Gummes and Spices, and a stronge Ar^ na-
tized Lixivium to wash the Body with ; for Rich Damask Powder to fill the
Coffin, and for all other Materialls for Embalminge the Body of the High and
Mighty Princes Mary, Queen of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, &c.
"As alsoo for the Spices and Damask Powders to be putt between the
twoo Coffines, with the per&mes for the Cambers, [chambers]; altogether
2001b. 00s. OOd.' ^ -
"JO.HTITTOK"
The mourning queen Mary was deep and general. It
for
is alluded to in the following MS. of the times, which gives
at the same time a remarkable specimen of the style of

writing the English language at this period of retrograded
civilization :
" The Town ai-e pêpareing for Mourning for y* Queoii, who
greatest pt of this
died ye 27th instant ab* 2 Afternoon ; some say not till 2 fryday morning ; the
• Ken's own Minutes of his Examination before the privy council, April 28,
1696. See Hawkins' Life of Ken, edited by J. J. Round. Mr. Palin, author
of the History of the Church of England, from 1688 to I7l7, has likewise
edited this curious and interesting scene, with many other particulars of bishop
^«"- a 52 B.
Add. MSS., 5751, fol.
460 MARY II.
King is extreamly grieved and has sowned away once or twice; yesterday
ye Parliament resolved nemine Contradisente y^ an humble address bee drawn
and Presented to his Ma'ie to condole y^ death of y^ Q., and yt likewise they
will stand by him with their lives and fortunes ag^ all enemies, at home and
abroad."'
It will be observed from this MS., that the addresses of

the houses of parliament were prepared within a few hours of
the queen's decease. Deputations from the dissenters went
up with condoling addresses to king William, to whom,
almost as early as the houses of parhament, an oration was
pronounced on the occasion by their great speaker. Dr. Bates,
who, it may be remembered^ was the deputy who proposed a
union between the dissenters and the church of England at
the time of queen Mary's landing and proclamation. " I well
remember," says Dr. Calamy, " that upon occasion of the
speech of Dr. Bates on the loss of the queen, I saw tears
trickle down the cheeks of that great prince, her consort,
who on the field of battle. I was one that
so often appeared
endeavoured to improve that melancholy providence at Black-
friars, [the place of his meeting-house,] and was pressed to
print my sermon, but refused because of the number of ser-

mons printed on that occasion."'*
There was a contest respecting the propriety of the parlia-
ment being dissolved, according to the old custom at the
death of the sovereign; but this was overruled, and all the
members of the house of commons were invited to follow as
mournCiS at queen Mary's funeral, which took place, March
6th, in Westminster-abbey. The bells of every parish church
throughout England tolled on the day of Mary II.'s burial;
service was celebrated, and a funeral sermon preached gene-
rally in her praise at every church, but not universally, for
a Jacobite clergyman had the audacity to take for his text
the verse, " Go, see now this cursed woman, and bury her, for
she is a king's daughter." The same insult, if our memory
holds good, had been offered to Mary queen of Scots, the
ancestress of Mary II., by a puritan, —so nearly do extremes
in politics meet. .,__,^^„
S -. /• * Additional MSS., 681, p. 602; British Museum. '••-,',

.,"^
'{^f « Life of Calamy, vol. i. p. 356.
^
MARY II. 461
*? funeral procession of queen Mary was chiefly remark-

The
able on account of the attendance of the members of the
house of commons, a circumstance which it is improbable will
ever take place again. A wax effigy of the queen was placed
over her coffin, dressed in robes of state, and coloured to
resemble life. After the funeral, it was deposited in West-
minster-abbey; and in due time that of her husband, Wilham
III., after being in like manner carried on his coffin at his
funeral, arrived to inhabit the same glass case. These funeral
effigies, in general, were thus preserved to assist sculptors, if
a monumental statue was designed, with the costume, pro-

portions, and appearance of the deceased. There is little
doubt but that, "when the wax-chandlers did their office
about the royal dead," part of that office was to take a cast
of the person for the waxen effigy. At the extreme ends
of a large box, glazed in front, are seen the effigies of queen
Mary and king William. They seem to be standing as far
as possiblefrom each other ; the sole point of union is the
proximity of their sceptres, which they hold close together,
nearly touching, but at arm's length, over a small altar.
The figure of the queen is nearly six feet in height; her
husband looks diminutive in comparison to her, and such
was really the case, when, as tradition says, he used to take
her arm as they walked together.
Queen Mary's wax effigy represents a well-proportioned,
but very large woman. The reports of the angry Jacobites
regarding her devotion to the table, are rather confirmed by
this representation of her person at the time of her death, for
thirty-two is too early a time of life for a lady to be embel-
lished with a double chin. The costume of the queen nearly
assimilates to the court dress of the present day. Her large
but well-turned waist is compressed in a tight velvet bodice
of royal purple velvet, cut, not only as long as the natural

waist will allow, but about an inch encroaching on the hips
thus the skirt and girdle are put on somewhat lower than the
waist, —a very graceful fashion, when not too much exag-
gerated. The waist is not pointed, but rounded, in front.
The bodice is formed with a triangular stomacher, inserted
462 mahy II.
into the dress, made of white miniver; three graduated

clusters of diamonds, long ovals in shape, stud this stomacher
from the chest to the waist. Clusters of rubies and diamonds
surround the bust, and a royal mantle of purple velvet hangs
from the back of the bodice. The bosom is surrounded with
guipure, and large double ruffles of guipure, or parchment-
lace, depend from the straight sleeves to the wrist. The
sleeves are trimmed lengthways, with strips of miniver and
emerald brooches. The skirt of the robe is of purple velvet
it forms a graceful train, bordered with ermine, and trimmed
at an inch distance with broad gold lace, like the bands of

footmen's hats, only the gold is beautiful and finely worked.
The skirt of the dress is open, and the ermine trimming is
graduated to meet the ermine stomacher very elegantly ; the
opening of the robe shows an under-dress of very beautiful
shaded lutestring, the ground of which is white, but it is
enriched with shades and brocadings of every possible colour.
The whole dress is very long, and falls round the feet. The
throat necklace, a-la-Sdvigni, is of large pearls, and the ear-
rings of large pear pearls. The head-dress is not in good
preservation J
the hair is dressed high off the face, in the
style of the portrait of her step-mother, Mary Beatrice of
Modena: three tiers of curls are raised one over the other,
and the fontange is said to have been twisted among them,
but there is it now, only a few pearls
not a vestige of two ;
frizzed curls rest on the bosom, and the hair looks as if it

had originally been powdered with brown powder. The
sceptre of sovereignty, surmounted by a fleur-de-lis and cross,
is in one hand, and the regnal globe in the other there are
:
no gloves. On the little pillar-shaped altar which separates

her from her husband, is the sovereign crown, a smaU one
with four arches. No other monument than this fragile
figure was raised to Mary. She left no children, and died
at enmity with all her near relatives.
It is singular that William III. did not take the oppor-

tunity of building a tomb for the wife he appeared to
lament deeply; but sovereigns who are for ever at war are
always impoverished. All the funeral memorials of Mary,
MARY 11. 463
and of himself likewise, arc contained in the said glass

case, which is now shut up, in dust and desolation, from the
view of the public. The perpetual gibes which were made at
these waxen moulds of the royal dead by those who knew
not for what purpose they were designed, have occasioned
their seclusion from the public eye. They are, however, as ii;
authentic relics of historical customs and usages, as any

thing within or without the abbey; they are connecting
links of the antique mode of bearing the dead "barefaced
on the bier," like the son of the widow of Nain, and as they
are, to this day, carried to the grave in Italy. For, in all
probability, centuries elapsed before the populace —"the •'N.
simple folk," as our chroniclers caMed them —believed that

the waxen effigy, in its " parell and array," was otherwise
than the veritable corpse of their liege lord or lady. It was

meant to be so taken ; for the ancient enamelled statues of
wood or stone, coloured to the life, on the monuments at
Fontevraud and elsewhere, exactly resembled in costume the
royal dead in the tombs below. The wax effigy formed the
grand point of interest in a state funeral, to which all the
attendant pomp ostensibly pertained. So difficult was it to
divorce this chief object from public funerals, that one of the
wax effigies in the abbey actually pertained to the present
century.* There were other figures in the Westminster-
abbey collection in the preceding age, as we learn from some
contemporary lines in allusion to the wax effigy of Charles
the Second :
"1 saw him shown for two-pence in a chest.

Like Monk, old Harry, Mary^ and the rest j
'
"^
' ' And if the figure answered its intent.
In ten more years 'twould buy a monument."
i
I-
Many medals were struck on the occasion of Mary^s death:

1 n
they chiefly represent her as very fat and full in the bust,
' That of lord Nelson, who is dressed in his exact costume ; he is represented
with only one arm ; the sleeve of his admiral's coat looped to the breast as he
wore it. Whetlier his effigy was thus laid on his coffin, and borne on the grand
car, is another question. Lord Chatham's wax effigy, dressed in the costume of
his day, had, in all probability, been carried at his public funeral.
^
' Henry VIII. and his daughter, Mary I.
« 464 MARY 11.
with a prodigious amplitude of double chin. Tlic hair is

stuck up in front some inches higher than the crown of the
headj as if the queen had just pulled off her high cornette
cap ; the hair thus is depicted as standing on end, very high
on the forehead, and very low behind, a fashion which gives

an ugly outline to the head. On the reverse of one of her
medals is represented a monument for her, as if in West-
minster-abbey ; there never was one, excepting it might be a
hearse and chapelle ardente, which, indeed, it seems to be
by the design. The queen's costume is nearly the same as
that of her portrait by Kneller, in St. George's-hall, Windsor.
On the death of any sovereign of Great Britain, the theatres
were closed for six weeki such was the case at the death of
:
queen Mary,* whose demise at the period of sports and car-

nival was a serious blow to the players.
More than one benefaction is mentioned in history as
bequeathed by Mary, yet we can find no indications of a tes-
tamentary document any way connected with her papers. A
sum of 500/. per annum was paid to the pastors of the primi-
tive church of the Vaudois, as a legacy of queen Mary II.
This sum was divided between the pastors of Vaudois, in
Piedmont, and the German Waldenses, in her name, until the
close of the last century,^ when the Vaudois became the sub-
jects of France. What fund was appropriated by Mary for
the supply of this annuity, is not ascertained; but it seems to
have been paid through the Society for the Propagation of

—
the Gospel in Foreign Parts, a good work, origir ;'v planned,
if not executed, under the auspices of this queen.
The natural inclinations of Mary were evidently bountiful:
like her ancestors, she strove sedulously to become a foimdress
of good institutions. The hard nature of her consort, to
whose memory no anecdote in any way connected with a gift
pertains, impeded her efforts. Queen Mary founded an in-
stitution at the Hague for young ladies whose birth was
above their means ; it was endowed with lands in England,
which made the charity, however kind to Holland, not very
' CoUey Cibber'fi Life and Apology, p. 425.
• Narrative of an Excursion to Piedmont, by the rev. W. S. Gilly, p. 277.

MARY II. 465
benevolent to thia country, and, we think, contrary to English

law.
All terms of praise and eulogy were exhausted to exalt the
memory of Marybeyond every queen that had ever
II.
existed. In an obscure history, two facts are adduced in sup-
port of a flood of wordy commendation. They are as follows:
the first is quoted in illustration of "her bright spirit of
devotion ;" either it does not possess any very great merit, or
the merit has evaporated with the change of dinner-hours.
" A lady of quality coming to pay her majesty a visit on a
Saturday in the afternoon, she was told that the queen was
retired from all company, and kept a fast in preparation for re-
ceiving the sacrament the next day.* The great lady, however,
stayed till five o'clock in the afternoon, when queen Mary
made her appearance, and forthwith ate but a slender supper,
' it being incongruous,' as she piously observed, * to conclude
a fast with a feast.' "' Strange indeed that so pharisaical an
anecdote is the best illustration of queen Mary's piety : the
whole is little in unison with the scriptural precepts respecting
fasting. The other anecdote is in illustration of her charity.
" Her was like the sun ; nothing
charity's celestial grace
within was hid from its refreshing heat. A lord
its circuit
proposed to her a very good work thai was chargeable. She

ordered a hundred pounds to be paid the cash was not forth-
:
coming. The nobleman waited upon her and renewed the

subject, telling her that interest was due for long delay, upon
which the queen ordered fifty pounds to be added to her
former benefaction;" but whether either sum was actually
paid, cannot now be ascertained. The anecdote proves that
the queen was willing to give, if she had had wherewithal.
Her means of charity were, however, fired away in battles and
sieges in Flanders.
Bishop Burnet probably intended the following inimitable
composition as an epitaph on queen Mary. For many years
it was all that the public knew concerning her, excepting the
two dubious anecdotes previously quoted :
' Barnard's History of England, p. 534.

VOL. VII. H H
M\
466 MARY II.
"THB CHABAOTBB OF QVXIN MaBY II. BT BUHOP BOBNBT.

" To the state a prudent ruler.
To the church a nursinî^ mother, \
To the king a constant lover, '
To the people the best example.

'
Orthodox in religion,
Ill M(xlcrato in opinion
H Sincere in profession,
Constant in devotion.
V
Ardent in affection.
A preserver of liberty,
/ A deliverer from popery ,
A preserver from tyranny,

-I
'u
A preventer of slavery
A promoter of piety,
A suppressor of immorality,
A pattern of industry.
High
in the world.
Low esteem of the world.
Above fear of death.
Sure of eternal life.
What was great, good, desired in a queen,
>
In her late majesty was to be seen I
Thoughts to conceive it cannot be expressed.

What was contained in her royal breast."
Such was the last poetic tribute devoted to the memory of
!"
the queen, who was so " sure of eternal life
r I
END OP VOL. VII.
PRINTED BY HAKKISON AND SON,

LONDON GAZKTTE OKFICE, ST, MABIIN's LANK; AND URCHAKI) STBRKT, WKSTMINSTKB.
' /
BNKT.
memory of
KSTMINSTKR.

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AGNES STRICKLAND. t i'

" The treasures of antiquity, laid up

A NEW EDITION, REVISED AND GREATLY AUGMENTED.

PORTRAITS OF EVERY QUEEN.

HKR MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY,

OUR SOVEREIGN LADY QUEEN VICTORIA, n

THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND,

ABE, BT GBACIOCB FEBHISBION,

WITH FEELINGS OF PBOFOUND BE8PECT AND LOTAL AFFECTION,

BT HEB majesty's FAITHFUL 8DBJE0T, '

AND DEVOTED SEBVANT,

THE SEVENTH VOLUME.

MAEY II., Queen-Eegnant of Geeat Bbitain and

THE SEVENTH VOLUME.

PORTRAIT OF MARY, WHEN PRINCESS OF ORANGE, engraved

MARY IN HER INFANCY, HER FATHER, AND PEPYS. Vignette Title.

AUTOGRAPH OF MARY, WHEN PRINCESS OP ORANGE page 116

MARY II. WHEN QUEEN OF GREAT BRITAIN, after the

THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.

The personal life of Mary II. is the least known of all

English queens-regnant. Long lapses of from seven to ten

therein at her marriage, her proclamation, and her death.

Thanks, however, to the memorials of three J es of oiir

in her biography been supplied.

and with great' pi

forward to heirs from the marriage of Charles II. with Catha-

Twickenham, a lease of which had been granted to him from

* Generai sir James Reynett, the governor of Jersey, obligingly permitted

is strikingly As a work of art, this little painting

the north-east coast to watch the proceedings of the Dutch.

things, till she grew as round as a ball.* Probably these

the circumstance, yet it certainly never transpired in her

confidante. The fact is, Anne of York was consigned to the

daughter was transferred to St. Cloud, or the Palais-Royal,

beautiful Henrietta duchess of Orleans, who had taken her

able to conclude that, if such had been the case, he would

moiselle de Montpensier, who details the visit Anne of York