“The bedchamber-woman came into waiting before her majesty arose,
and previous to prayers. If a lady of the bedchamber were present,
the bedchamber-woman handed her the queen’s linen, and the lady put
it on her Majesty. Every time the queen changed her dress in the
course of the day her habiliments made the same formal progress from
hand to hand. When the queen washed her hands, her page of the back
stairs brought and set upon a side-table a basin and ewer. Then the
bed-chamber-woman placed it before the queen, and knelt on the other
side of the table over against the queen, the lady of the bedchamber
only looking on. The bedchamber-woman poured the water out of the ewer
on the queen’s hands. It was also her duty to pull on the queen’s
gloves when her Majesty could not do it herself, which was often the
case, owing to her infirmity of gout. The page of the back stairs was
always called to put on the queen’s shoes. When Queen Anne dined in
public, her page passed the glass to her bedchamber-woman, and she to
the lady in waiting; in due time it reached the lips of royalty.”
There was little of the pomp and ceremony which distinguished the
court of the proud Elizabeth; indeed, Anne herself was too careless
and dull-witted, and the imperious Duchess of Marlborough was too
defiant of all restraints to have insured that subservient obeisance
which Elizabeth demanded and received. Having been obliged, even in
her coronation procession, to be borne in a low arm-chair on account
of her gout, which prevented her walking in regal majesty as all her
predecessors had done, she continued subject to this infirmity, which
her gross eating and drinking greatly increased. The stormy disputes
between her ministers, Oxford and Bolingbroke, became so violent that
at length the fear of having to submit to a third terrible council
with them, after two hot disputes had been interrupted by her attacks
of violent illness, caused a burning fever, which threatened her
life. Submitting to the old remedy of bleeding, she was found to be
no better, and it was evident that her end was near. Oxford having
resigned his office of lord treasurer in a rage, it became necessary
to appoint some one in his place. The Duke of Shrewsbury was suggested
for the office, but he would not accept the staff unless the queen
herself laid it in his hand. Accordingly the white wand was placed in
the stiffening fingers of the dying queen, and the Duke of Shrewsbury,
approaching her bedside, asked:—
“Do you know to whom you give the white wand?”
“Yes,” murmured the still-conscious queen; “to the Duke of Shrewsbury;
and for God’s sake, use it for the good of my people!”
Thus perished the last of the sovereigns of the House of Stuart.
“The British sovereign is dead and the throne is vacant,” were the few
but expressive words sent to George of Hanover; and without opposition,
King George I. ascended the throne of Great Britain.