(A.D. 1659-1718.)
|The city of Modena in Italy was the birthplace of some of the greatest
poets and painters of that land of artists, and it was there that the
heroine of this narrative was born. Her father, the Duke of Modena, was
a learned man, and would probably have made his mark in the world if he
had lived long enough; but he died young, and left his Duchess Laura to
rule in his stead.
This lady had two little children, a boy, who later became Francis
II. of Modena, and Mary Beatrice. Prince Rinaldo d'Esté, afterwards a
cardinal, was appointed guardian of the children, and assisted their
mother in educating them.
Francisco, as the boy was called during his minority, was two years
younger than his sister, consequently when his father died the duchess
ruled the state many years before he was fit to do so.
She was rather a stern mother,--her fear, lest overindulgence might
spoil her little ones, making her notice trifling faults that in some
instances it would have been wiser to have overlooked. She insisted upon
hard study several hours every day, and never allowed any of the fasts
imposed by the church to be omitted, though both the children were
delicate. When Mary Beatrice was frightened at seeing a chimney-sweep
descend into her nursery through the fireplace, her mother made the man
remain until she had shown the child who he was, and explained
{239}
[Illustration: 0245]
{241}Why he looked so black and dirty. On one occasion the attention
of the duchess-regent was drawn to the fact that hard study was wearing
upon the young duke's health. "Better that I should have no son, than a
son without wit and merit," replied the parent.
[[A.D. 1666.]] Mary's first real sorrow was when her governess, of whom
she was very fond, entered a convent, and she grieved so sorely that
she was sent to the same institution to finish her education. There she
spent several happy years; for the discipline was much less rigid than
it had been at the palace, and she had the companionship of girls of her
own age. The books that were placed in her hands, and the influence by
which Mary was surrounded at the convent, filled her youthful mind with
mystic romance, and gave her a desire to imitate the female saints whose
lives had been devoted to the service of God. Besides, she had an aunt
in the convent, scarcely fifteen years older than herself, who was
preparing to take the veil, and Mary Beatrice loved her so much that she
desired to follow her example. But she was not to lead a life of peace
and repose: a different destiny awaited her, as we shall see.
James, Duke of York, was brother to Charles II., and the second son
of Henrietta Maria and Charles I. of Great Britain. He was a gifted
engineer, and for many years occupied the post of Lord Admiral of
England, when he established colonies in different parts of the world,
and advanced trade with foreign countries. After being a prisoner in his
native land for many months, during the struggles of his father's reign,
the duke made his escape to Holland and shared his brother's exile,
never returning to England until the time of the restoration. While his
mother was living in France he entered the army of that country as
a volunteer, and fought so valiantly for the royalist cause that the
French commander said: "If any man in {242}the world was born without
fear it was the Duke of York."
There is a portrait of this prince in the royal gallery at Versailles,
painted when he was about twenty-two years old, which represents him as
one of the handsomest men of his time. His brown hair is brushed from
his brow and falls in ringlets at the back; his eyes are large, dark,
and expressive, lips full and red, complexion warm and healthful. This
picture was painted before he had the small-pox, for that dreadful
disease made a sad alteration in his appearance later in life.
The Duke of York distinguished himself on the battlefields of Spain
after he was driven from France, where he had served in four campaigns,
and was offered a very high position. He would not accept, because he
was always expecting affairs to take such a shape in his native land as
to permit his return..
[[A.D. 1660.]] Shortly after that important change did occur,--the
restoration of Charles II.,--the duke fell in love with Anne Hyde,
daughter of Clarendon, and married her in spite of a great deal of
opposition on all sides.
[[A.D. 1667.]] By the time he was thirty-four years of age his wife and
several of his children were dead. Two daughters were spared, who caused
their father much bitter sorrow, as we shall see in the course of this
biography. About seven years after the death of his wife the Duke of
York fell in love with a lady of humble birth; but his brother, the
king, put a stop to any thought of marriage with her, and sent the Earl
of Peterborough to visit the different princesses of Europe and select
for James a wife whose station in life would be equal to his own.
[[A.D. 1673.]] The ambassador's choice fell on Marv Beatrice of Modena,
whom he was enabled to see through the convent grating by the good
offices of a priest. The {243}duke had secretly charged Peterborough to
be very careful in his selection, and to give him a faithful description
of the lady he preferred before settling anything.
Now, it must not be supposed that the ambassador made his choice without
a great many annoyances, for he had to visit several courts, and as the
object of his trip was suspected, he was placed in very embarrassing
positions when the particular princess he was considering did not
possess the requirements he deemed indispensable. And even after he had
decided that Mary Beatrice of Modena should have the honor of becoming
Queen of England, his trouble was not at an end by any means; for
the young lady had planned a different sort of life for herself, and
objected very decidedly to the lofty position now offered to her.
The Earl of Peterborough intended to proceed very cautiously, and not to
make known his errand until he was quite sure of success. He therefore
lodged himself at an inn like an ordinary traveller; but the second
morning after his arrival a man named Nardi presented himself with a
letter from the duchess-regent. The earl's surprise at being so honored
was increased when he read what the lady wrote. It was, that having
heard the object of his journey to Italy, she deemed it her duty to
inform him that her daughter had resolved to become a nun, but added
that there were other princesses in her family, to one of whom, if the
duke, his master, thought fit, he might be permitted to address himself.
She sent also a cordial invitation for the ambassador to come to court
"where she should deem it an honor to welcome him." The earl was not
flattered at the anxiety displayed by the duchess to refuse him her
daughter before he had made his offer, so he pretended that his visit
had no special object, but that he was a private traveller, with
no desire to interfere with anybody's plans. This was only a little
stratagem on the part of the {244}duchess; for she was dazzled with the
thought of her daughter becoming the wife of the heir presumptive to
the throne of England, but thought it best not to appear overanxious.
However, she took the precaution to speak to Mary Beatrice on the
subject at a very early stage of the proceedings.
Mary Beatrice was less than fifteen, but she was tall, womanly, and very
beautiful, with hair, eyes and eyebrows black as jet, and a clear olive
complexion. She read and wrote Latin and French, painted well, and was
an excellent musician, but of history and geography she was thoroughly
ignorant. When her mother announced that the Duke of York desired to
marry her, she asked: "Who is the Duke of York?" and upon being told
that he was brother to the King of England, whom he would succeed to
the crown, she replied: "That she had never heard of such a place
as England, nor of such a person as the Duke of York." The duchess
explained more fully, and casually mentioned that the duke was in his
fortieth year; then Mary Beatrice burst into tears and implored her aunt
to marry him instead, saying "that as she was thirty years of age she
was more fit to become the wife of a man of forty than she herself was,
being only fifteen." No amount of persuasion could reconcile her to the
thought of marrying a man twenty-five years her senior, and she declared
her determination to become a nun. So eloquently did she plead her own
cause that her uncle and her mother's prime minister were won over, and
encouraged the princess in her refusal to marry.
Meanwhile a messenger arrived from England to inform the earl that
the Marquis of Dangeau had been despatched from France to assist in
concluding the matrimonial alliance between England and Modena, adding
that it was suspected that an aunt was to be substituted for the young
princess, {245}but that she was quite unsuitable to the Duke of York,
therefore no such exchange was to be permitted.
A week later the marquis arrived and had an interview with the duchess.
He pointed out to her the advantages of such a powerful ally as England,
and assured her that the King of France had requested him to use his
utmost influence to forward the marriage. His eloquence prevailed with
the duchess, the court, and council; but the prime minister, Father
Garimbert, remained firm, and continued to espouse the side of the young
princess.
The duchess then sent for the Earl of Peterborough, and informed him of
the change in her determination. The next consideration was, to obtain
a dispensation from the pope, because the Duke of York had not openly
avowed himself a Catholic. The Abbé Dangeau, brother to the marquis, was
sent to Rome for that purpose, and while he was gone the duchess sent
for the Earl of Peterborough, and after making profuse apologies,
explained why she had regarded the proposed alliance with so much
disfavor at first, her principal reason being the desire of the princess
to enter a convent. The earl expressed a wish to see Mary Beatrice that
evening, and was conducted to the palace at the appointed hour for that
purpose.
He approached the young girl with great formality, and told her that he
must ask her pardon for desiring her to leave her peaceful retreat; but
as soon as he saw her portrait he knew that she was the woman, of all
others, to make his prince happy, and that since he had seen her he was
more convinced of it than before. She answered crossly, "that she was
obliged to the King of England and the Duke of York for their good
opinion of her, but she had vowed herself for another sort of life than
marriage;" then with tears in her eyes she desired his excellency, "if
he had any influence with his master, to oblige {246}her by endeavoring
to avert any further persecutions of a maid who did not wish to marry."
She added: "That there were other princesses in Italy, even in her own
family, who would not be unworthy of so great an honor, and who deserved
it much better than she did."
She referred to her aunt, but the earl pretended not to understand, and
continued to urge his suit. Mary Beatrice spoke her mind as a petulant
girl of fifteen is apt to do, and then left the room with her mother.
The ambassador complained of her behavior to one of the ministers, who
told him that the ladies of Italy had no will but that of their friends,
therefore he need give himself no concern about the matter. Acting
upon this hint, the earl reminded the minister that everything must be
settled before the next meeting of parliament, because they would object
to the marriage of the duke with a Catholic princess.
The dispensation had been refused at Rome, but in spite of that and of
the tears and lamentations of Mary Beatrice the marriage treaty was soon
completed. The Bishop of Modena refused to perform the ceremony; but
White, a poor English minister, who had no fear of excommunication,
undertook it.
The marriage portion amounted to eighty thousand pounds, to be paid
at different periods, part of it being furnished by Louis IV., who had
always treated Mary Beatrice as his adopted daughter.
[[A.D. 1674.]] The ceremony was performed on the thirtieth of September,
the Earl of Peterborough, who acted as proxy for the Duke of York,
placing a valuable diamond ring on the bride's finger. Afterwards there
was a grand banquet, and the earl sat under a canopy at the head of the
table with the bride, now called her royal highness the Duchess of York.
In the evening there was
{247}
[Illustration: 0253]
{249}dancing, and everybody seemed happy excepting the bride, whose
heart was very heavy at the thought of so soon leaving the home and
companions of her childhood. She had struggled with all her might
against destiny, and had made the most determined efforts to preserve
her freedom, all of no avail. She had been led to the altar like a lamb
to the sacrifice, and her lips had pronounced the vows from which her
soul had shrunken.
When the news reached the Duke of York that the ceremony had been
performed, he was talking to a circle of friends in the drawing-room.
"Then I am a married man!" he exclaimed, and that night sent word to his
daughter, Mary "that he had provided a playfellow for her."
The duke had given his ambassador instructions to bring his bride to
England with as little parade and as few foreign attendants as possible;
but she screamed and cried in such a way when preparations for her
journey were being made that her mother was obliged to promise to
accompany her to England, and her brother to go part of the way. Three
Italian ladies of the highest rank were permitted among her bed-chamber
appointments. They were Madame Molza, Madame Montecuculi, and her
daughter, Anna, a young girl of seventeen. A lady named Turenie, who had
been governess to the princess from her infancy, was added to the
list also. These four ladies proved devoted friends, and followed Mary
Beatrice throughout her life.
It had been a trial for the young Duchess of York to bid farewell to her
native place; but when, two days later, she had to part with the brother
who shared her joys and sympathized with her sorrows almost from
her cradle, her burden of grief seemed greater than she could bear.
Forgetting the dignity that her station demanded, or the presence of the
formidable array of English and Italian nobles, she remembered only that
she was losing, perhaps forever, {250}the little brother whom she loved
better than any one in the world. She pressed him to her heart again and
again, and burst into an agony of tears when the youthful prince was led
away. It was a consolation, at least, that her mother was to continue
with her, and her mind was soon diverted by the welcome she received at
the hands of the several princes of Italy, through whose dominions she
passed with her attendants.
On arriving at the French border the bridal train was met by officers of
Louis XIV., who defrayed all the expenses, and conducted them to Paris.
They were lodged at the Arsenal, and magnificently entertained.
All that remains of this building shows what a splendid one it must
have been, but the storms of revolution have passed over it and left it
almost in ruins.
The Earl of Peterborough was anxious to get to England with his charge
as quickly as possible, but Mary Beatrice became so ill that she
was unfit to travel for several weeks. Her disease was a low fever,
occasioned by the mental anxiety she had endured for so many weeks.
After her recovery the young duchess visited Versailles, where she was
received with the highest consideration, and entertained with all
the splendor of that court. It was a dreadful ordeal for so young and
inexperienced a girl to know just what degree of attention to accord
each person without too much condescension on her own part, but
particularly so for one who had no taste for the formalities of royalty,
and greatly preferred the seclusion of a cloister. But Mary Beatrice
excited admiration for her beauty and charming manners, of which the
king showed his appreciation by making her some costly presents. She
had already received jewels valued at twenty thousand pounds from her
unknown husband, which she wore on state occasions while in France.
{251}
[Illustration: 0257]
{253}Meanwhile a strong party in England had leagued itself, under the
leadership of the Earl of Shaftesbury, for the purpose of destroying the
Duke of York, and of getting the reins of the government in their own
hands. This was no easy matter, because his services in his country's
cause, his energy, and his high sense of honor, had rendered him one of
the most popular of princes; but the party opposed to him were ready to
resort to any measures, no matter how vile, to gain their end.
Knowing this, the duke had managed his marriage with the utmost secrecy
and despatch, because the strongest avowed point of opposition was his
adherence to Catholicism, which his alliance with a Catholic princess
would naturally strengthen. So when parliament met, on the twentieth
of October, they were perfectly astonished and highly indignant to hear
from the king's lips that the duke was already married to the Princess
of Modena, who was even then on her way to England. The infuriated
Commons petitioned their sovereign "to appoint a day of general fasting,
that God might avert the dangers with which the nation was threatened."
Charles told them that they might fast as much as they pleased, though
he knew that by so doing they merely desired to show their contempt for
what they called the "popish marriage," though the pope had positively
withheld his consent to it. The members of the king's own cabinet became
alarmed at the threatened storm, and urged his majesty either to forbid
the princess to leave Paris or to dismiss his brother from court,
and insist upon his leading the life of a country gentleman. Charles
indignantly refused both propositions.
The day after parliament met Mary Beatrice landed at Dover, where her
husband awaited her on the beach, and all the citizens had collected
to get a sight of her. {254}The duke received her in his arms, and was
charmed with her at the outset, as well he might have been; but she,
poor child, was not so favorably impressed with a man old enough to be
her father, and showed her aversion plainly. This did not discourage the
groom, who treated her with courtly attention, feeling convinced that he
should win her heart in time.
In the presence of his suite and the bride's, besides a large number of
Dover people, the Duke of York was married to Mary Beatrice according
to the church of England rites, and the little ruby ring placed on her
finger that day was more highly valued to the end of her life than any
jewel the princess possessed.
The second day after the marriage the bride and groom, attended by the
Duchess of Modena, and her brother-inlaw, the Prince Rinaldo d'Esté,
besides the members of their court, set out for London. King Charles
went down the river with his court, in the royal barges, to meet the
bridal suite, and received his new sister-in-law with every mark of
affection; then he conducted the party to Whitehall, where his queen
vied with him in her acts of loving attention to the bride.
Even her enemies were for the time being disarmed when they gazed on the
lovely, innocent countenance of the young bride; and at King Charles's
court she was much admired and esteemed.
The Duke and Duchess of York established themselves at St. James's
Palace, where all the foreign ambassadors called to congratulate them,
and where they held their courtly receptions as regularly as the king
and queen did theirs at Whitehall, though on different days. King
Charles was devoted to his brother, and soon became warmly attached
to his wife, but a little coolness was early established between Queen
Catharine and the Duchess of York in
{255}this way: It had been stipulated in the marriage treaty that the
duchess was to have the use of the Catholic chapel at St. James's which
had been fitted up by the queen-mother, Henrietta, for herself and her
household. But King Charles, knowing how unpopular any display of
her religion at that time would make his brother's wife, influenced
Catharine to claim it as one of her chapels, and had a private apartment
in the palace fitted up for the devotions of the young duchess and her
suite. This was a piece of friendship on the part of the king that was
not appreciated by his sister-in-law, who laid the blame on the queen,
with whom she felt quite offended.
At the end of the year the Duchess of Modena was called home by some
intrigues that had been begun during her absence; but although Mary
Beatrice was sorry to part with her, she had by that time begun to love
her husband so much that the parting was not so great a trial as it
would otherwise have been, and the love that was implanted in her heart
developed into a devotion that lasted to the day of her death.
The first years of her married life were passed by the young duchess
in a succession of gayeties. She was often annoyed because her husband
treated her like a child, but as she was little older than his daughter
this is not surprising. In later years circumstances developed the force
of her character, and won the respect and admiration that she truly
merited.
She had the good sense to study English, and soon became a perfect
mistress of the language.
[[A..D. 1675.]] Mary Beatrice had a little daughter born about a year
after her marriage. This was a great pleasure, but it was soon marred
by the duke's refusal to have the baby baptized a Catholic. He did not
object himself, but explained to his wife that their children belonged
to the {256}nation and would be taken from them if not brought up
according to the established church, adding that is was besides the
king's pleasure, to which they must submit. The youthful mother appeared
to yield, but sent for her confessor, Father Gallis, and had the child
baptized on her own bed according to the rites of the church of Rome.
When the king came a day or two later to make arrangements with her and
the duke for the christening of their child, Mary Beatrice told him
that "her daughter was already baptized." Without paying the slightest
attention to this assertion, his majesty ordered the little princess to
be borne to the royal chapel, where she was christened by a Protestant
bishop, her half-sisters, Mary and Anne, acting as sponsors. The baby
was named Catharine Laura after the queen and the Duchess of Modena,
and the Catholic baptism was kept a profound secret, though it must have
been a subject of annoyance to the king.
A fortnight later some very severe laws were made against the Catholics.
One of them forbade any British subject from officiating as a Romish
priest, either in the queen's chapel or elsewhere; another prohibited
any adherent of the Catholic, church to set foot in Whitehall or St.
James's Palace, the penalty for such an offence being imprisonment. This
law of course kept the Duchess of York and the Catholic ladies of her
household from the king's palace, but the young mother was so wrapt up
in her baby that she was indifferent to almost anything besides. She was
happy with her husband also, and lived on terms of close friendship with
her step-daughters, who never accused her of the slightest unkindness
to them, even in later years, when they would have been pleased to bring
any unfavorable accusation against her. But the young mother was soon
to be deprived of the infant she loved so fondly, for it died of a
convulsion before it was ten months old.
{257}This was, of course, a great sorrow to Mary Beatrice, but she was
not permitted to indulge it very long, for before the close of the year
she had to attend a feast given by the lord mayor, and a ball at her own
palace.
[[A.D. 1676.]] Another princess was born the next year, and this time
there was no secret baptism. That ceremony was performed by Dr. North,
Master of Trinity College, and the child was named Isabella. She lived
to the age of five years.
[[A.D. 1677 ]] The following year the marriage between the Princess Mary
and the Prince of Orange was solemnized; and it was this union that
proved so disastrous to the fortunes of the Duchess of York, her
husband, her children.
There was much rejoicing in the household of the Duke when a little
prince made his appearance. He was christened with great pomp by the
Bishop of Durham, and no less a person than the king himself, assisted
by the Prince of Orange, acted as sponsor. Charles bestowed his own name
on his nephew, and created him Duke of Cambridge. The little fellow died
the following month, and was interred, as his sister had been, in the
vault of Mary Queen of Scots, at Westminster Abbey.
The duke grieved more for the death of this boy than he had for any of
his children. The Prince of Orange wrote a letter of condolence; but, as
he was then plotting against his royal father-in-law, and as the death
of the little prince opened the way to the throne for his wife, it is
not probable that he was sincere in his expressions of sympathy. But
Mary Beatrice was ignorant of this, and when she heard that the Princess
of Orange was ill she planned a visit to her, which, after obtaining
the king's consent, she undertook, in company with Princess Anne and
her lord chamberlain, the Earl of Ossory. As it was her desire {258}to
ascertain the true state of Princess Mary's health, and to afford her
comfort, the duchess travelled incognito, and sent a man on before to
hire for her a small house not far from the palace. This was done
to secure free intercourse among the three ladies without any of the
formality required by court etiquette.
[[A.D. 1678.]] Although the visit was a flying one, the duchess found
a storm gathering around her husband on her return which soon compelled
him to give up his seat among the state councillors. His friends advised
him to retire to the continent with his family; but his proud spirit
revolted from any move that would have the appearance of guilt or
cowardice. The king urged him to baffle his enemies by returning to
the church of England, but he refused to act in opposition to his
conscience. Then for the sake of peace, which the "merry monarch" would
have purchased at any cost, Charles advised his brother to go abroad
before the next session of parliament. James consented, providing the
king would command it in writing, but he scorned the idea of running
away. The order was given in the form of an affectionate letter, and on
the fourth of March the Duke and Duchess of York embarked for Holland.
They were not permitted to take their little daughter Isabella to share
their exile, which was a great deprivation to both parents.
[[A.D. 1679.]] The king called on the day of their departure to bid
farewell, and was much affected at parting with the brother whom he
loved so well. The weather was very stormy, and wiping the tears from
his eyes Charles said: "The wind is contrary; you cannot go on board at
present."
Mary Beatrice, who considered that her husband was being sacrificed to
secure his brother's peace of mind, replied with spirit, "What, sir, are
you grieved?--you who
{259}
[Illustration: 0265]
{261}send us into exile! Of course we must go, since you have ordained
it." She regretted this speech later, because she knew that Charles had
only yielded to the clamor of her enemies.
The duke and his wife arrived at the Hague a week later, and were
received by the Prince of Orange with every demonstration of respect.
Later they removed to Brussels, where they occupied the house Charles
II. had lived in before the restoration.
In July the Duchess of Modena joined her daughter, from whom she had
been separated for five years, and the two ladies were rejoiced to meet
again. But the Duke and Duchess of York could not rest contented so
long as their children were away from them, so they wrote to the king
entreating him to send them to. Brussels. He consented, and Princess
Anne, with the infant Princess Isabella, left England on the nineteenth
of August. They had not been with their parents many days when a
messenger, sent by the Earl of Sunderland, arrived in Brussels to inform
the duke of the king's serious illness. James set out at once to
visit his brother without mentioning his intention to any one but Mary
Beatrice, and travelled so privately and so quickly that his presence in
England was not suspected until he presented himself at Windsor at seven
o'clock in the morning. Charles was so much better that he was up and
partly dressed. Fearing that it might injure his brother if it were
known that he had sent for him, the Duke of York knelt and begged
his majesty's pardon for coming before he was recalled. Then all the
courtiers flocked around the traveller and paid their compliments, for
James was really a favorite, and his presence always commanded respect.
The king was so delighted to see him that he declared "nothing should
part them again." However, by the end of a fortnight Charles was
convinced that his {262}brother could no longer remain with him in
safety, but he gave permission for him to remove his family from
Brussels to Scotland. Then the duke went back to the continent, and was
making a farewell visit to the Prince and Princess of Orange, in company
with his wife, his children, and the Duchess of Modena, when a message
arrived from King Charles recalling them all, but directing the duke to
embark for the Downs and remain there till further orders. Everybody
was delighted but the Prince of Orange, who had his own reasons for
objecting to the duke's return; however, he had no voice in the matter
at that time. Two days later Mary Beatrice bade farewell to her mother,
who had passed two months with her, and embarked with her family
for England. The voyage was very stormy, and the duchess suffered
excessively from seasickness. Party excitement ran so high, and the
king's power was so diminished, that by the time the duke arrived at the
Downs a messenger informed him that the king had changed his mind about
his coming to London, and that two frigates were in readiness to convey
him and his family to Leith, in Scotland, where the Duke of Lauderdale
had been ordered to make arrangements for their reception.
The duchess was too ill to proceed further by sea, and her husband did
not dare to take her ashore without a written permission from the king,
so there she lay tossing about in the Downs while an express was sent
to London. Charles was sorry to hear of her miserable condition, and
ordered his brother to bring her to St. James's Palace forthwith. They
were delighted to find themselves safe on _terra firma_ after all they
had suffered; but they were not yet at their journey's end, for the very
night of their arrival the king assured his brother that he had no power
to protect him if he persisted in remaining in England.
A week later two of his friends informed the duke that {263}his majesty
desired him to withdraw to Scotland for a short period, but that his
wife and children might remain under his care at St. James's Palace. But
Mary Beatrice was too devoted a wife to permit her husband to go into
exile alone; so, although it necessitated separation from her little
daughter and a weary journey over roads that were almost impassable, she
went with him.
Every action of the duke's had been so perverted that his great naval
victories were attributed to cowardice, and every other, no matter
how great a benefit it had proved to the nation, to a desire for the
advancement of popery. This being the case, no marks of favor were shown
him as he advanced towards the North, and the discourtesy of the towns
that thirteen years before had lavished attentions on him pained him
excessively.
No sooner did the royal couple reach the Scottish border than everything
was changed, and they were met with every mark of affection and respect.
Three miles from Berwick the Scotch guards, under the Marquis of
Montrose, were drawn up to welcome them, and a little further on two
thousand gentlemen on horseback awaited them. The duke alighted from his
carriage to receive the compliments of the lord chancellor, who headed
the procession; then several of the nobles kissed his hand, and paid the
same respect to the duchess, who sat in her coach. With this numerous
escort their royal, highnesses were attended to the house of Lauderdale
at Lethington, where, with their whole retinue, they were splendidly
entertained until they made their public entry into Edinburgh.
The people of Scotland were so pleased to have the royal family
represented in their country that they were unwilling to believe any of
the calumnies against the duke, and looked forward to great prosperity
from the establishment of a court among them. But James desired to
live {264}as privately as possible to avoid creating jealousy among his
enemies in England.
The Countesses of Peterborough and Roscommon, as several other ladies of
high rank who had been with Mary Beatrice since her marriage, attended
her to Scotland. They found Holyrood Abbey, where they made their home,
far less luxurious than any former palace they had inhabited; but the
duchess made no complaint, and always tried to be cheerful for her
husband's sake.
[[A.D. 1680.]] King Charles had promised his brother that he should not
remain long in exile, and he was as good as his word. At the beginning
of the new year his majesty entered the council chamber and made the
astounding announcement that, as he had derived no benefit from the
absence of his brother, whose lights he knew would be disputed at the
next meeting of parliament, he had ordered him back to London to give
him an opportunity of defending himself.
A great many people were much pleased at this action on the part of the
king, and even offered thanks for it; but the powerful party who were
opposed to everything he did, and objected to the Duke of York as
successor to the crown, were very angry. Their leader, Shaftesbury,
and several other members of the house of lords, resigned on the spot.
Charles declared that "he accepted their resignation with all his
heart."
The Duke and Duchess of York were rejoiced at their recall to England,
but they had gained so many friends in Scotland that their departure
from there caused a great deal of regret. The lords of the council wrote
a letter of thanks to King Charles for the honor he had done them in
sending the duke to their country, and praised his wise and prudent
conduct with much warmth.
The royal couple returned by water, and were saluted by {265}the guns
from the ships and tower as they ascended the river to Whitehall,
where the king stood at the gate to receive them. They were immediately
conducted to the queen's apartment, and then to their own, where they
once more embraced the little daughter whom they had not seen for four
months. That night the city was illuminated, and two days later the city
officers called in a body to congratulate the duke and his wife on their
return. A grand supper was given by the lord mayor in honor of the royal
brothers, and the aldermen drank the king's health on their knees, and
grew so loyal as the wine was swallowed that they "wished every one
hanged and consigned to perdition who would not serve his majesty with
his life and fortune."
The duke and duchess established their court at St. James's Palace,
and gave a series of brilliant balls and feasts that increased their
popularity considerably. Mary Beatrice was so highly respected that even
her bitterest enemies could find no excuse for mixing her name with the
popish plot, of which we gave an account in the last reign.
But Shaftesbury and his colleagues were not to be baffled; they had
determined on the ruin of the Duke of York, and never rested until they
had forced the king to agree to his banishment once more. They wanted
the sea to separate him from England, but Charles compromised in his
usual way, and notified his royal highness that he was to return to
Scotland. The duke was sorely grieved, for he believed that even his
brother had turned against him; and that his banishment to Scotland
would be followed up by something worse. He was the more convinced of
this when, in order to protect himself against the machinations of his
powerful enemies, he demanded of the king a general pardon, under the
great seal, for any offence that might be charged against him, and his
majesty refused. He gave {266}as his reason that it would be injurious
to a man of the duke's exalted rank to have such a document drawn up;
but James became so enraged that he swore "that if he were pushed to
extremity, and saw himself likely to be entirely ruined by his enemies,
he would throw himself into the arms of Louis XIV. for protection." Of
course such a threat was treasonable, and only to be excused on account
of excessive indignation, for the duke was burning under the sense of
wrong and ingratitude from a king and a country in whose service he had
risked his life so often. Poor Mary Beatrice was called upon to part
with her little Isabel again, and this separation was the last, for the
mother never more beheld her only child.
The following beautiful lines by the poet Dryden were written to
commemorate the embarkation of the Duke and Duchess of York, which
occurred on the eighteenth of October:--
"Go, injured hero! while propitious gales,
Soft as thy consort's breath, inspire thy sails;
Well may she trust her beauties on a flood
Where thy triumphant fleets so oft have rode.
Safe on thy breast reclined, her rest be deep,
Rocked like a Nereid by the waves asleep;
While happiest dreams her fancy entertain,
And to Elysian fields convert the main.
Go, injured hero! while the shores of Tyre
At thy approach, so silent shall admire;
Who on thy thunder shall their thoughts employ,
And greet thy landing with a troubling joy."
After a stormy voyage of a week, the Duke and Duchess of York arrived
on the shores of Scotland, and when they observed the joy manifested
by every class of inhabitants at their return, their sad hearts warmed
towards the nation that were so eager to prove their gratitude and
loyalty.
They travelled through Scotland attended by an ever-increasing train of
devoted followers, and received at every
{267}
[Illustration: 0273]
{269}stopping place the most unbounded hospitality. At Leith they were
met by a grand procession, headed by the Earl of Linlithgow, colonel of
his majesty's guards, and a regiment of soldiers, besides nobility and
gentry on horseback, and a long train of coaches filled with councillors
and noble ladies and gentlemen. As they advanced guns fired, bells rang,
bonfires were lighted, and crowds assembled with shouts of welcome. The
city authorities of Edinburgh met their royal highnesses at the gate of
Holy-rood Palace, and the lord provost on his knees presented the silver
keys of the city to the duke, at the same time offering a welcome in the
name of all the citizens.
Holyrood Palace had been repaired and the royal apartments refitted for
the accommodation of the duke and duchess, with their retinue; so their
home was by no means as comfortless as it had been on their former
sojourn there.
The portrait of Mary Beatrice had been painted by Lely just before her
departure from London; and it was the last work of that great artist,
who died before the end of the year.
The duchess was not quite twenty, and at the height of her beauty. She
is represented with her hair falling around her head in luxuriant curls;
her dress is scarlet velvet, embroidered and fringed with gold, cut
low at the neck and filled in with soft cambric, of which material the
flowing sleeves are also made. A full rich scarf, of royal blue fringed
with gold and pearls, crosses one shoulder, and falls in graceful folds
over the lap to the ground. The lady is sitting in a garden, and a tree
in the background is entwined with honey-suckles and roses; her left
hand rests on the neck of a beautiful white Italian greyhound.
A brilliant court was established at Holyrood, and Mary Beatrice
succeeded in winning all hearts by her kind and {270}gracious manners.
Her religion was unpopular, but she intruded it upon no one, and her
conduct was admirable.
Behind the Abbey of Holyrood there was along avenue shaded with stately
oaks, where James was in the habit of taking his daily exercise. The
green strip at the foot of the hill is called "the duke's walk" to this
very day, though all the beautiful trees have been removed.
Mary Beatrice introduced tea-drinking among the Scotch ladies, and the
fashion soon became general, for she was so much admired that it became
a pleasure to imitate her. She was loved because she tried to please,
and the duke was not behind-hand in this respect. His royal highness
established a bond of good fellowship between the nobles and the
mechanics which added greatly to his popularity. It was done in this
way: Tennis and golf, both games played with clubs and balls, were the
favorite amusements among the gentry of Scotland in those days. The duke
enjoyed them also, and always selected a mechanic or tradesman for his
partner. Of course this example was imitated by the courtiers, and thus
high and low were brought into pleasant contact. His royal highness
generally played against the Duke of Lauderdale, who was an excellent
golfer as well as himself. One day they agreed to stake an unusually
large sum of money on the game. James called a shoemaker named John
Paterson to assist him, and after a very hard contest defeated his
opponent. When Lauderdale paid the three or four hundred gold pieces
that he had forfeited, his royal highness handed them to Paterson,
saying: "Through your skill I have won the game, and you are, therefore,
entitled to the reward of the victory." The bonnie Scot was more pleased
with the delicate compliment than with the gold. It was many such acts
that endeared James to the people amongst whom his lot was cast. When
Lochiel, a brave Highlander, was {271}presented at court, the duke
received him with marked courtesy, and questioned him about his
adventures. During the conversation he asked to see the chieftain's
sword, which was delivered into his hands without hesitation. The duke
tried to draw it from the scabbard, but as it was merely a dress-sword,
not meant for use, it had become rusty. After a second attempt he handed
it back to the owner, saying: "That his sword was never so difficult to
draw when the crown wanted its service." Lochiel was so embarrassed that
he did not know what reply to make, but drew the sword and handed it
to his royal highness, who turning to the courtiers present, said: "You
see, my lords, Lochiel's sword gives obedience to no hand but his own!"
and thereupon knighted the Highlander on the spot.
The duke arrived in Scotland just after an insurrection, when many
people lost their lives and property; but he exerted such an excellent
influence that peace was soon restored, and prisoners liberated whenever
they promised to cry "God save the King!" He governed Scotland well for
his brother, and won the love of the populace by always resorting to
the mildest of punishments in opposition to the barbarities practiced by
Lauderdale.
During the winter the duchess met with an accident that nearly cost her
life. She was thrown from her horse, and her long riding-habit becoming
entangled in the saddle, she was dragged some distance and received
several kicks from the terrified animal before she could be rescued.
Fortunately this occurred on a sandy plain, otherwise she must have been
killed. As it was, she was taken up covered with blood and perfectly
insensible. She recovered in time, having received no serious injury,
but was obliged to give up her favorite amusement; for her husband,
who always considered horseback riding dangerous for women, exacted a
promise that she would never so imperil her life again.
[A.D. 1681.] {272}The spring brought bad news, for King Charles sent a
messenger to inform his brother and sister that their little daughter,
Isabel, had died at St. James's Palace. This cruel blow only made the
banishment and persecution of the duke and duchess harder to bear,
and James wrote to his brother for permission to take his wife to some
watering-place in England, saying that she needed the change, and that
the climate of Scotland did not agree with her.
Charles could not grant the request, because he feared that the duke's
return would be the signal for rebellion; but after three or four
months' deliberation the favor of Princess Anne's company was granted to
her parents, and she went to Scotland to join them.
Shortly after her arrival the Duke of York rode in state from Holyrood,
and opened parliament as lord high commissioner from his brother, the
king. The duchess, Princess Anne, and all their ladies were present on
that occasion, and this was such an unusual sight that some of the
old fogies considered it highly indecorous. The Scottish lords and
chieftains had always settled their debates with dagger and sword,
and it was in order to avoid such stormy scenes that the Duke of York
introduced the refining influence of women's presence, and the effect
was highly satisfactory. After the meeting James gave a banquet to the
whole parliament, separate tables being laid for the lords and commons.
The city of Edinburgh returned the compliment with an entertainment
to the Court of Scotland that cost more than fourteen hundred pounds
sterling.
After their royal highnesses recovered from the shock occasioned by the
death of their little daughter, life at Holyrood became one long scene
of gayety and brilliancy. There were balls, plays, and masquerades night
after night,
{273}
[Illustration: 0279]
{275}and musical dramas, similar to the opera of the present day, in
which the Princess Anne and other ladies of quality took part. So long
as the plays were moral, Mary Beatrice honored them with her presence;
for she believed that the stage ought to be a medium for giving
wholesome instruction to the public, but she would countenance nothing
coarse or vulgar.
[[A.D. 1682.]] Affairs took such a favorable turn for James enuring
the following year that he was recalled to England. He arrived with
the Duchess and Princess Anne at Whitehall on the twenty-sixth of May,
having been escorted up the river by a procession of barges, among which
was the one containing the king and queen, who had gone to welcome them.
In the evening the city of London was illuminated, and the rejoicing on
account of the banished duke's return was universal.
[[A.D. 1684.]] St. James's Palace again became the home of the royal
pair, where they had a little daughter born in August, but it died
within a few weeks. Two years later, so firm had the duke's position
become, that he was once more offered the post of lord admiral, which
he eagerly accepted. During the period of peace and national prosperity
that preceded the death of Charles II., Princess Anne married Prince
George of Denmark, but remained with her parents for awhile.
[[A.D. 1685.]] A plan to banish the Duke of York once more had just been
set on foot when King Charles died, and made way for him to mount the
throne as James II. Mary Beatrice felt so grieved at the death of her
brother-in-law that she could not rejoice at her own advancement; for
Charles had been uniformly kind and amiable towards her, and she knew
that she had lost a friend when he died.
Compliments and congratulations were showered upon {276}the new king
from all sides, and on the first Sunday after his accession he was
prayed for from every pulpit in the metropolis. King James began his
reign with some very necessary reforms; he forbade drinking and swearing
among others, and expressed his entire disapprobation of duelling, which
he declared was no mark of courage.
The queen's health was not good at this time, and she became so pale
that in spite of her religious scruples her husband advised her to
rouge, as other court ladies did, and she complied. The first time
Father Seraphin, a monk, saw her so disfigured he expressed his
surprise, and she explained that she had resorted to paint to conceal
her palor, whereupon the monk replied, bluntly: "Madame, I would rather
see your majesty yellow or even green than rouged."
The twenty-third of April, St. George's day, was appointed for the
coronation of the king and queen. The crown jewels had all been stolen
by the Roundheads during the civil wars, so everything had to be
supplied for the new queen, and the crown that was made specially for
her was valued at one hundred and eleven thousand nine hundred pounds.
On the Thursday previous to the coronation, the king washed the feet
of fifty-two poor men, that number corresponding with his age. On the
appointed day the queen, who had slept at St. James's Palace, performed
her devotions as usual, and was then attired by her women in a royal
robe of purple velvet, bordered with ermine, and looped with cords and
tassels of pearls. Her tight-fitting frock underneath was of rich white
and silver brocade, ornamented with pearls and precious stones. On her
head was a cap of purple velvet, turned up with ermine and edged with
a band of gold, set with large diamonds. As soon as her toilet was
completed, the queen was carried in her chair {277}to Westminster, where
she rested in a private room until the king and all those who were to
take part in the ceremony had assembled.
When everything was ready, her majesty entered Westminster Hall,
attended by her lord chamberlain, her other officers and ladies; the
king entered at the same time by another door with his attendants, and
the royal pair took their seats under separate canopies at the upper end
of the hall.
After the king's regalia had been delivered to him with the usual
formalities, each article was placed on a table covered with rich
tapestry. Then the queen received the crown, sceptre, and ivory rod with
the dove, which were likewise deposited on the table, and subsequently
distributed by the lord great chamberlain to the noblemen appointed to
carry them. These noblemen walked first in the procession, then followed
the queen, between the Bishops of London and Winchester, under a rich
canopy, supported by sixteen barons. Four noble ladies carried her
majesty's train, and eight bed-chamber women followed. The king's
procession came next, and all proceeded in solemn state through a
passage made by a double line of horse and foot guards to the abbey. The
path was thickly strewn with fresh flowers by six young ladies, dressed
in pointed bodices, with full brocaded skirts, looped back over rich
petticoats. They wore hoods, gloves, and deep ruffles falling from the
elbow. Trumpets were blown, drums beat a march, and the choir sang the
well-known anthem, "O Lord, grant the king a long life!" etc., all the
way to the church.
It required several hours for all the ceremonies of the coronation to
be performed, and the devotion of the queen in following the prayers
and making the responses was observed by all present. King James had
bestowed a great {278}deal of pains on his wife's regalia, but none on
his own, so the crown that had been made for Charles II. was used for
him, though it did not fit at all. The heads of the two brothers were
as different as their characters, and it was regarded as an ominous sign
that the crown could not be made to stay on James's head.
The queen performed a noble deed of charity on that day that brought
the blessings of thousands upon her head. She released all prisoners who
were in jail for small debts, and herself paid every sum not exceeding
five pounds. No wonder that the air rang with cries of "Long live Queen
Mary!"
When the ceremonies at the abbey were concluded, the procession returned
to Westminster Hall, and their majesties rested in private rooms until
all the company had taken their places at seven long tables which
were laid for the banquet. Then the king, preceded by his great state
officers, entered with the crown on his head, and the sceptre and orb in
either hand, and seated himself in his chair of state at the head of the
royal table. The queen did the same, her place being at the king's left
hand. Most of the ancient ceremonies of coronation banquets were
revived that day, and some of them are so curious that they will bear
recounting. Certain lords went to the kitchen to receive the dishes and
present them to their majesties, which was done in this way: The master
of the horse called for a dish of meat, wiped the cover and the dish
carefully, tasted the contents, and then ordered it to be conveyed to
the royal table, he preceding the first course on horseback the full
length of the hall, followed by a train of the principal officers of the
household. Thirty-two dishes were brought up by the Knights of the Bath,
and a number of others by private gentlemen. When the dinner was
placed on the table, the lord chamberlain, carvers, cupbearers, and
{279}assistants went to the king's cupboard and washed; then the great
basin was brought for the king to wash his hands. Before doing so he
delivered his sceptre to a nobleman appointed to hold it, and the orb
to the Bishop of Bath. The queen washed also, but she used only a wet
napkin presented by the Earl of Devonshire on his knees. Grace was
said, and their majesties sat down to the dinner, which consisted of a
thousand dishes; among them were many Scotch dainties which reminded the
king and queen of the hospitalities they had received in the North.
Before the second course Sir Charles Dymoke rode into the hall on
a splendid white horse, preceded by trumpeters, and attended by two
gentlemen, one bearing his lance, the other his target. He was dressed
in white armor, and wore a red, white, and blue plume in his helmet.
He was brought up to the royal table, where the herald proclaimed his
challenge, and the champion threw down the gauntlet. This was repeated
three times, when the king drank from a gold cup which he presented to
his champion, who then rode out of the hall. Several lords presented
wine to the king on their knees, each one receiving the silver or gold
cup his majesty drank out of for a present.
When the dinner was ended grace was said, the washing of hands was
repeated with the same ceremony as before, and their majesties withdrew.
In the retiring-room they delivered their regalia to the Dean of
Westminster, whose duty it was to keep such valuables under lock and
key.
One of King James's first acts after he ascended the throne was to
release several thousand Roman Catholics and members of other churches
who had been imprisoned for refusing to worship according to the
prescribed laws of England. He also put a stop to the practice that had
been permitted for many years of people informing against one another
about their religious beliefs. As this was often {280}resorted to merely
to gratify some personal spite, and had been the means of bringing many
an innocent person to the stake, King James did well to abolish it; but
he was fighting the prejudices of the people, and could more easily have
taken an impregnable fortress, as he soon found to his cost. Many of his
subjects were offended at the display James made of his own religion,
particularly when he opened a Catholic chapel at Whitehall, and insisted
on going there in state with his wife, attended by the high officers of
their household, to receive the sacrament. His lord treasurer, the Earl
of Rochester, pretended to be ill as an excuse for absenting himself.
The Dukes of Norfolk and Somerset openly refused to attend. It was the
duty of Lord Godolphin, the queen's chamberlain, to lead her majesty by
the hand to her place in the chapel, and to the altar when she chose
to receive the sacrament. Although a Protestant, the chamberlain was so
charmed with her majesty's beauty and graceful manners that he would not
forego his privilege.
King James summoned parliament in June because the Duke of Argyle raised
a rebellion in Scotland, while Monmouth did the same in England, and
funds were required to suppress both. Monmouth had always been one of
James's bitterest and most dangerous enemies, because he thought he had
a claim to the throne; he therefore issued a proclamation, denouncing
the king "as a usurper, a murderer, a traitor, and a tyrant." He accused
James of burning the city of London, of murdering Godfrey,--both events
are treated of in the last reign,--of cutting the throat of Essex, and
of poisoning his brother, Charles II. He raised an army of ten thousand
men, and received so much encouragement at Taunton that he proclaimed
himself king, and set a price on the head of "the usurper, James, Duke
of York."
{281}
[Illustration: 0287]
{283}Such prompt and active measures were taken by the royal party that
both Argyle and Monmouth were defeated and captured. The latter implored
the king for mercy, and succeeded in obtaining a private interview.
James had forgiven this bold man for many personal offences when he was
Duke of York, but now his position was altered. He was King of England,
and could not find it in his conscience to pardon an offender who had
plunged his realm into civil war, and sacrificed the lives of three
thousand of his subjects. Story, the orator, was taken prisoner for
assisting Monmouth with his exciting speeches, that went far towards
raising the popular indignation against the sovereign.
When summoned to appear before the council he looked so haggard,
neglected, and dirty that King James exclaimed, "Is that a man, or
what is it?" On being informed that it was the rebel Story, his majesty
replied: "Oh, Story; I remember him--a rare fellow, indeed." Then
turning towards him, the king asked: "Pray, Story, you were in
Monmouth's army in the west, were you not?"
"Yes, an't please your majesty."
"Pray, you were a commissary there, were you not?" asked the king.
"Yes, an't please your majesty."
"And you made a speech before great crowds of people, did you not?" was
the next question,
"Yes, an't please your majesty," answered Story.
"Pray, if you have not forgot what you said, let us have a taste of your
fine speech, some specimen of the flowers of your rhetoric."
"I told them, an't please your majesty, that it was you who fired the
city of London," boldly answered Story.
"A rare rogue, upon my word," exclaimed James; "and, pray, what else did
you tell them?"
{284}"I told them, an't please your majesty, that you poisoned your
brother."
"Impudence in the utmost height of it!" said the king. "Pray, let us
have something further, if your memory serves you."
"I further told them," continued Story, "that your majesty appeared to
be fully determined to make the nation both papists and slaves."
The king had heard enough, and no doubt wondered at the audacity of a
man who dared to accuse him to his face of crimes that his very soul
would have revolted at. But with remarkable clemency his majesty added:
"To all this I doubt not but a thousand other villanous things were
added. But what would you say, Story, if after all this I were to grant
your life?"
He answered, "That he would pray for his majesty as long as he lived."
Thereupon he was freely pardoned, but Monmouth and Argyle were executed.
This victory of King James's would have increased his popularity and
made him extremely powerful, had it not been for the cruel deeds that
resulted from it. But Colonel Kirke and Chief-Justice Jeffreys were two
barbarians, who caused the execution of thousands, whether innocent or
guilty; going from one town to another whence Monmouth had gathered his
forces, and committing most unheard-of cruelties.
Such deeds, added to the mistake James made in attempting to have
everything his own way, regardless of the will of parliament, led to
his ruin and downfall. Popular indignation was aroused against all Roman
Catholics, King James included, when Louis XIV. revoked the edict of
Nantes. This was a law that had been made by Henry IV., granting the
free exercise of religion to all Protestants, and {285}when it was
withdrawn, of course, persecutions followed. The result was that nearly
fifty thousand Protestants sought refuge in England, and King James
treated them with a great deal of consideration.
[[A.D. 1687.]] The queen spent part of the spring of 1687 at Richmond
Palace, while James visited his camp at Hounslow; but her health was
so poor that she was ordered by her physicians to take a course of
treatment at Bath, and while there news of her mother's death reached
her. This was a sad bereavement, and one from which Mary Beatrice did
not soon recover. It opened a correspondence between her and the Prince
of Orange, who, while expressing affectionate sympathy, was secretly
plotting for the overthrow of his royal father-in-law. The king was very
much under the influence of Sunderland, and of the Jesuit, Father Petre,
both bad advisers; but he was also on terms of intimacy with William
Penn, the founder of the State of Pennsylvania. This high-minded Quaker
entered the king's presence one day, shortly after he ascended the
throne, with his hat on his head. James immediately removed his,
whereupon Penn said: "Friend James, why dost thou uncover thy head?" The
king replied with a smile: "Because it is the fashion here for only one
man to wear his hat.".
Penn was sent to Holland to persuade William, Prince of Orange,
to concur with the king in trying to do away with those laws that
interfered with religious privileges in England, but met with no
success, either with him or his wife, Mary.
[[A.D. 1688.]] Queen Mary Beatrice had a little son born at St. James's
Palace in 1688, and there was great rejoicing among the king's friends
when the infant prince appeared, which was echoed in Edinburgh.
The royal father felt so happy at the birth of his son that, {286}in an
evil hour, he granted forgiveness to Nathaniel Hook, who had been the
Duke of Monmouth's chaplain. This man became one of the tools of William
of Orange, and acted as a spy on the actions of the sovereign who had
shown him such mercy.
A grand display of fireworks took place in honor of the prince's birth
when he was a few weeks old, and the royal couple were present at the
palace window to witness it. Mary Beatrice was gratified by a letter
of congratulation sent by the pope on the birth of her son, because his
holiness had never been friendly since she married without his consent,
nor was he now, as we shall see.
The persons who were anything but pleased at the little fellow's
appearance in the world were William of Orange and his wife, because
both felt that he was in their way as heir to the crown.
One of William's agents was discovered at Rome in secret correspondence
with the pope's secretary, Count Cassoni. He was disguised as a peddler
of artificial fruit, which, on being opened, were found to contain slips
of paper, written in cypher, that disclosed a plan for the destruction
of the king and the little prince. William of Orange was at the bottom
of the conspiracy, and intended to carry out his purpose in this way:
The pope was to supply funds to be used by the Prince of Orange for
the invasion of England, which coming from such a source would not be
suspected. All this was disclosed by the slips of paper contained in the
fruit, and reached the ears of King James himself.
The royal infant was so very ill when he was about two months old that
it was thought each moment would be his last; however, he was provided
with a good healthy nurse and got well, much to the delight of his
parents, and the disgust of those whose interest it was to wish him out
of the {287}way. Then the king and queen with their household removed to
Whitehall, and soon after her majesty's birthday was observed with the
usual ceremonies and rejoicings.