(A.D. 1662-1695.)
|Lady Mary of York, as this queen was styled in her youth, was a person
of small importance, so far as any prospect of her ever occupying the
throne was concerned, for this reason: She was the daughter of James,
Duke of York, second son of Charles I. and Henrietta Maria, whose
history we have related.
Charles II. succeeded his father and married Catharine of Braganza, just
at the time when Lady Mary was born, and everybody supposed that his
children would be next in the line of succession. So they would have
been if he had ever been blessed with any, but as he was not, his
brother James, the luckless king of whom the last reign contains
an account, mounted the throne, and then his daughters attained an
importance that would not otherwise have been theirs.
The Duke of York's first wife was Anne Hyde, daughter of Clarendon,
the lord chancellor, and as she was not of royal birth, a great deal of
discontent was occasioned on all sides. However, the marriage had been
secretly solemnized before any engagement was suspected, so it would
have been useless for any one to say much against it.
Lady Mary was born at St. James's Palace, only a couple of weeks before
her uncle's marriage; so the public mind was occupied with preparations
for the reception of the new bride; and the infant came into the world
as quietly. {334}as though she had not been of royal blood. She was
sent to her grandfather's house at Twickenham, where her nursery was
established; and being a very beautiful, engaging child, she was no
doubt indulged and fondled more than was good for her. She had a little
brother born when she was not more than a year and a half old; but he
died within a short time. Lady Anne of York, the subject of the next
reign, was born when Mary was three years of age, and the elder sister
stood sponsor at the baptism of the infant.
The Duke of York was so fond of Lady Mary that he kept her in his arms
all the time when he was at Twickenham, or when she was taken on a visit
at St. James's Palace. Pepys, a literary gentleman, who published a most
interesting diary of his times! says: "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." So we can easily imagine the romping
and merry sounds that must have enlivened the nursery when the duke made
his visits.
Shortly after the birth of Anne, the royal father returned from his
first grand naval victory, and found the Great Plague raging to such an
extent that he at once removed his wife and children to York. That place
had the double advantage of pure air, and of being in the neighborhood
of the duke's fleet, that was cruising off the northeast coast to keep
an eye on the Dutch ships.
The Duchess of York had everything about her very splendid in her
northern home, and was so happy there that when her husband was summoned
elsewhere she preferred not to accompany him. No doubt this lady had
faults,--who has not?--but her most prominent one was an excessive
love of eating. This would have harmed no one but herself; therefore we
should not have recorded it, {335}if it had not been transmitted to her
children. Both of the daughters carried this weakness even further than
their mother did, and she was injudicious enough to indulge them. As a
natural consequence the children accumulated an unhealthy quantity of
fat, and, of course, became victims of indigestion. Anne was a regular
rolly-poly as a child; but as there is a separate chapter devoted to
her we must confine the present story, as much as possible, to the elder
sister.
Ladies Mary and Anne pursued their education under the direction of Lady
Frances Villiers, daughter of the Earl of Suffolk and wife of Sir Edward
Villiers. This-lady had six daughters of her own, and must have had her
hands full with the care of eight girls. She lived with them at the old
palace at Richmond, where Queen Elizabeth died, and her daughters grew
up with the princesses, and formed a connection that lasted through
life. Being deprived of their mother when they were, respectively, six
and nine years of age, Mary and Anne naturally clung to the companions
who shared their education and to the lady who superintended it.
[[A.D. 1671.]] When the Duchess of York died she left four children, two
of whom were sons; but they followed her to the grave within the year.
By that time the succession of the Princess Mary to the throne of
England began to assume an air of probability, because, as we have said,
no children were born to Charles II. The duchess had become a convert to
Catholicism, and not very long after her death the duke was suspected of
having likewise joined that faith. This made him so unpopular that the
services he had performed for his country were all forgotten, and his
marriage, rather more than two years afterwards, with the Catholic
Princess of Modena, only served to increase the censure he had drawn
down on his own head. {336}Fearing that his nieces might be influenced
by their father's faith, King Charles undertook the supervision of their
education himself, and engaged Henry Compton, Bishop of London, for
their preceptor. This man had been a soldier until he was thirty years
old, when he became a clergyman, and was rapidly promoted on account of
the loyalty of his family. Compton was good enough as a man, but by no
means a well-informed one, consequently the princesses were not taught
as they ought to have been. People who have not had advantages of
education themselves often know its importance; but this does not seem
to have been the case with Compton, for his pupils were allowed to study
or not, just as their fancy dictated. The consequence was that the elder
sister, having inherited the literary tastes of her parents, studied
because it pleased her to do so; while Lady Anne grew up an ignoramus
because she did not so please. If the governess, Lady Frances Villiers,
had done her duty faithfully, this would not have been the case; but her
tastes lay in a different direction.
Peter de Laine was the French professor of the princesses, and made Lady
Mary so perfect a mistress of that language that she wrote it better
than her native tongue. Mr. and Mrs. Gibson gave instruction in drawing.
They were a pair of dwarfs, neither being more than three feet six
inches in height, and were considered among the best English artists of
the day. This little couple had nine full-grown children, and lived to a
good old age.
The ladies Mary and Anne continued to live at Richmond with Lady
Villiers and her daughters after their mother's death, and were very
religiously trained according to the requirements of the Church of
England. One day in the year the Duke of York's entire family always
observed as one of deep sorrow, fasting, and prayer; it was {337}the
thirtieth of January, memorable as having been the date of Charles I.'s
execution. Each year all matters of business or pleasure were laid aside
on that day, and the family appeared in deep mourning garments.
[[A.D. 1674.]] Mrs. Betterton, the principal actress at the King's
Theatre, was engaged to teach the royal sisters a ballet, which they
performed at court, and the lessons she also imparted in elocution
proved of great service when, as queens, they had speeches to make. Both
the princesses were attractive in personal appearance, though they did
not resemble each other; for Lady Mary was a Stuart in looks, tall,
graceful, slender, with a clear complexion, dark eyes and hair, while
Anne had her mother's round face and plump figure. Her hair was dark
brown, complexion ruddy, features clear cut and regular, and she had
beautiful hands and arms. Being somewhat near-sighted, Princess Anne had
a drawn look about the eyes that detracted from her beauty. Perhaps it
was this defect that prevented her studying as much as she ought to
have done; but certain it is that she never opened a book when she could
avoid it; but she was a good musician and played well on the guitar. At
a very early age Anne excelled in card-playing, and, I regret to add,
gossip. But this was the fault of King Charles's court, at which both
the princesses were introduced when they ought to have been still at
school. Lady Mary played cards as well as her sister, and for very high
stakes, but, what was worse, she employed Sunday evenings as well as
those of the week in this frivolous manner. Nobody tried to correct this
bad habit, because gambling was the chief pastime at the English court,
and had been so since the time of Henry VIII.
[[A.D. 1677.]] When Lady Mary was fifteen years old King Charles and his
councillors began to look about for a husband for her, and decided that
her cousin, William {338}Henry, Prince of Orange, would be the best
person for her to marry. Then that young man was first consulted on
the subject; his mind was so filled with war and exploits on the
battle-field that he appeared indifferent almost to rudeness; but later,
when he thought that the influence of his uncles, Charles II. and the
Duke of York, might be of advantage in a political point of view,
he went to England to see what his chances then might be with the
presumptive heiress, Mary. This prince was the son of King Charles's
sister Mary, who died when her boy was nine years of age, and left him
to the care of his grandmother, his father having been killed at sea
before he was born. He was an undersized, delicate boy of nineteen the
first time he went to England to claim the protection of his uncles, who
made some plans by which he was secured the Stadt-holdership of Holland.
That was in 1670; he was twenty-six when he returned on his matrimonial
expedition, and not much improved either in health or appearance. Prince
William had a little plan of his own which prevented his discussing his
affairs in a straightforward manner at his first interview with King
Charles. He was at war with France, and felt no desire to make peace
unless forced to do so. Should he wed the Princess of England, he
counted on assistance from her father to pursue hostilities, but he
would not commit himself until he had seen the lady; for although he was
by no means good-looking himself, he was determined to have a handsome
wife.
He was so well pleased with the Princess Mary that after his
introduction to her by King Charles, he immediately asked her hand in
marriage. It was granted on condition that the terms of a peace with
France should first be agreed upon. The prince excused himself, and
declared "that he must end his marriage before he began his peace
treaty;" then added "that his allies would be apt to believe {339}that
he had made his match at their cost, and for his part, he would never
sell his honor for a wife."
But the king remained obstinate for three or four days; then Sir William
Temple sought his presence and repeated this message sent to his majesty
by the Prince of Orange, who was in a very bad humor. It was: "That he
repented ever coming to England, and that after two days he would go
back home if the king continued in the mind he was of treating of the
peace before his marriage, and that the king must choose whether they
were to live afterwards as the greatest friends or the greatest enemies,
for it must be one or the other."
The easy-going Charles, who was always for letting everybody have his
own way, replied: "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 that I have
resolved it shall be so."
The Duke of York was surprised at the suddenness of the message, but
replied: "The king shall be obeyed, and I would be glad if all his
subjects would learn of me to obey him. I tell him my opinion very
freely upon all things; but when I know his positive pleasure on a point
I obey."
The Prince of Orange was delighted at his uncle Charles's decision, and
that very evening the match was announced at the cabinet council. After
having dined at Whitehall Palace, the Duke of York returned to St.
James's, where he was then living with his family, and leading his
daughter Mary into a private room, told her how it was arranged that she
was to marry Prince William of Orange. The poor girl burst into tears
and felt very unhappy, but no one cared anything about that; and
although her heart was very heavy {340}she had to stand by her betrothed
for several succeeding days to receive deputations from the city
officials, law students, commercial companies, and others who came to
offer congratulations. A grand banquet was given by the citizens of
London to evince their pleasure at this Protestant marriage, and on the
same day the Princess Mary, with her sister Anne, and her stepmother,
Mary of Modena, sat under a canopy of state and witnessed a fine
procession.
The marriage was solemnized on the fourth of November in the bride's
bed-chamber at St. James's Palace, only the members of the royal family
being present. King Charles tried to draw attention from his niece's
excessive sadness by rollicking gayety, quite out of place on so solemn
an occasion; and when the Prince of Orange endowed his bride with all
his earthly goods, placing a handful of gold and silver coins on the
open book, the king told his niece "to gather it up and put it in her
pocket, for't was all clear gain." After the ceremony the court and
foreign ambassadors were admitted to offer congratulations. Next morning
Prince William gave his bride a present of jewels to the amount of forty
thousand pounds.
This marriage was very popular in Scotland, where, as well as in
England, all the festivities and rejoicings customary on such occasions
were observed. The groom displayed great ill-humor when the duchess had
a son born a couple of days later, because the little fellow would have
had the precedency over his wife in the succession, but, as we know, he
lived only a few weeks. It made Princess Mary no happier to find herself
united to a surly man, and what added to her distress at this time was
the illness of her sister Anne, who was suffering from small-pox, and
could neither be present at her wedding nor take leave of her when, a
week later, she departed for Holland. The
{341}
[Illustration: 0347]
{343}prince wanted to get his wife away from St. James's as soon as
possible lest she might catch the infection; but she would not leave her
father until the dreaded moment of sailing arrived. This made the groom
so angry that everybody spoke of how cross and ugly he was, and the
maids-of-honor of the queen called him the "Dutch monster," and other
horrid names. He was angry with the wind, too, because it would continue
to blow in the wrong direction, and keep him in England longer than
he desired. Several people were lying dangerously ill at St. James's
Palace; two or three had died since the wedding; Anne continued too ill
to see her sister, and all was gloom and sorrow around the bride. At
last, on the nineteenth of November, the wind changed, and the two
palaces of Whitehall and St. James were at once bustle and confusion
with preparations for the departure of the Princess of Orange and her
husband. At nine o'clock in the morning the bride bade farewell to
her old home and went to Whitehall to embrace her royal aunt, Queen
Catharine, whom she loved very dearly. It was then that the queen told
her to consider how much better her case was than her own, for when she
came from Portugal she had not even seen King Charles, and Mary replied
between her sobs: "But, madame, remember _you_ came _into_ England, I am
going out of England." The king and the Duke of York, with a large party
of nobility and gentry, embarked-on the royal barges at Whitehall and
accompanied the Prince and Princess of Orange down the river to Erith,
where they were to dine. Then Mary parted with her father and uncle
and set sail for Holland, several English and Dutch men-of-war being
in attendance to conduct the royal yacht across the sea. If the Duke of
York had known his son-in-law as well at that time as he did later, he
would have set a watch on his movements until he was well out of the
kingdom; but an {344}unfavorable shifting of the wind gave the ambitious
prince a chance of playing a mean trick on the duke, who on hearing that
the Dutch fleet was detained at Sheerness, sent a messenger to invite
the bride and groom to pass the time at Whitehall. William declined, but
went ashore with his wife and became the guest of Colonel Dorrell, the
governor. Next day they proceeded to Canterbury, accompanied by Lady
Inchiquin (one of the Villiers girls), a maid, and the prince's two
favorites, Bentinck and Odyke. Arriving at the inn, the prince applied
to the city authorities for a loan, saying that he had been sent away
from London in haste without a penny, because King Charles and the Duke
of York were so jealous of any favor shown him that they were afraid the
lord mayor would give him a grand feast, and hurried him off to prevent
it. As we know the entertainment was given, and the prince and princess,
as well as the rest of the royal family were present, of course the
statement was false, and by refusing the loan the corporation of
Canterbury showed very plainly that they considered it so. But Doctor
Tillotson, the Dean of Canterbury, gathered together all the plate and
ready money he could command, and hastened with them to the inn, where
he requested an interview with Mr. Bentinck, and not only placed all his
wealth at the disposal of the prince, but offered him an asylum at the
deanery, a more proper stopping-place for one of his rank than a common
inn. The money and plate were accepted, but the offer of hospitality
was declined. Now, it was perfectly useless for Prince William to demand
money from any one but his uncles, who would have supplied him without
hesitation. Besides, as the first instalment of Princess Mary's portion
of forty thousand pounds had been paid, his credit was perfectly good in
London, and the prime minister, Danby, would not have been applied to
in vain. But the prince was so {345}angry on account of the birth of his
little brother-in-law that he wanted to appear in the light of a very
ill-used person, and this game was a bold political stroke to obtain
partisans before leaving the country. And he succeeded, for Dr.
Tillotson became a serviceable friend, who corresponded with the prince
and Mr. Bentinck, and gave them some valuable information for which he
was made an archbishop a few years later. Four days the Prince of Orange
devoted to courting favor with the people of Kent, and then set sail on
board the "Montague" at Margate.
The princess was accompanied by Lady Inchiquin and her two sisters,
Elizabeth and Anne Villiers, whose mother had died just after they bade
her adieu at Richmond Palace. These were ladies-of-honor, and there was
still another, named Mary Worth. After a very stormy passage, during
which everybody was sea-sick excepting Princess Mary, the royal fleet
arrived at Tethudo, a town on the Holland coast, and their majesties
proceeded to Hounslardyke Palace. The preparations for their reception
went forward so slowly that they could not make their public entry into
the Hague until the end of a fortnight, but everything was arranged with
great magnificence. The bridge at the entrance of the town was festooned
with garlands of flowers, surrounding appropriate Latin inscriptions,
and twelve companies of soldiers were drawn up in line on either side.
Twenty-four virgins, in gay costumes, walked two and two on either side
of their highnesses' coach, strewing fresh flowers and evergreens in the
path all the way. In front of the town hall was a triumphal arch hung
with banners, ferns, and gay ribbons, displaying the crests of the
prince and princess side by side, and over them two hands holding a
Latin motto, which, rendered into English, read thus:--
"What Halcyon airs this royal Hymen sings,
The Olive branch of peace her dower she brings."
{346}The royal cortège passed beneath this arch on to Hoog-straet, where
another bore this inscription:--
"To the Batavian court, with Heaven's best smile,
Approach fair guest, and bless this happy pile."
And so with a fine display of loyalty from their subjects, that greeted
their eyes and ears at every turn,--for there was music, the beating of
drums, and ringing of bells besides,--the royal pair passed through the
principal streets to their palace.
That evening there were brilliant fireworks representing, in turn, St.
George on horseback, fountains, pyramids, enormous castles, chariots
containing the gods descending from the skies in a blaze of fire,
flower-pots, animals, and a variety of novel devices. The following
day all the "Herrs" of note called to pay their respects, but it is not
necessary for us to recall the long unpronounceable names. The usual
celebrations followed, and after that Princess Mary resorted to her old
propensity for gambling, in which she was encouraged by her husband, who
carried this vice further than she did.
Not long after the arrival of the Princess of Orange, as we must call
her now, the Archbishop of Canterbury recommended Dr. Hooper for her
almoner and chaplain. On his arrival in Holland he found the princess
without a chapel or a room of any kind that could be put to that use,
except the dining-room. This she willingly relinquished, because she and
the prince never took their meals together, and for the sake of obliging
Dr. Hooper she was willing to dine in a small, dark parlor, which,
though not very comfortable, answered the purpose. Dr. Hooper was
ordered to fit up the chapel; but so alarmed was the princess lest
she might suffer from having incurred her lord's displeasure, that she
insisted upon the almoner's being present on a certain afternoon, when
his majesty was
{347}
[Illustration: 0353]
{349}to inspect the arrangements, to bear part of the brunt of his
ill-nature. The first thing he did on entering the chapel was to turn up
his nose contemptuously, kick over the chair placed on the steps of the
dias tor his wife, and ask roughly for whom it was intended. Then he
inquired the use of each article that struck his notice, and with an
emphatic "Hum!" left the chapel, which he entered only once or twice
after that. The princess attended every day, taking great pains not to
make the chaplain wait. The prince had given his wife certain religious
books to read, which Dr. Hooper replaced with those he preferred for
her. This excited the prince's displeasure, and one day on finding
her deeply interested in a work not in accordance with his belief, he
stormed furiously, and said: "What!--will you read such books? I suppose
it is Dr. Hooper persuades you to do it."
While the Princess of Orange was under the good influence of Dr. Hooper,
her sister Anne had established her little court at St. James's, and
passed most of her time gambling and gossiping. Her most intimate friend
was Sarah Jennings, who, at the age of fifteen, had secretly married the
handsome Colonel Churchill, the Duke of York's favorite gentleman. This
lady afterwards became the Duchess of Marlborough, a very important
personage in the political world. Her tastes were similar to those of
the Princess Anne, over whom she had a very baneful influence. Barbara
Villiers, now Mrs. Berkley, third daughter of her late governess, was
Anne's first lady-inwaiting; thus we see four of the ladies of this
family in direct attendance upon the two princesses who later occupied
the British throne.
But to return to Holland. At the Hague the Princess of Orange found
three beautiful palaces. One was called "the Hague," a splendid Gothic
structure, where all the {350}business of state was transacted. Mary
never went there, excepting, on occasions of great ceremony. About
a mile from this castle stood the palace in the wood, surrounded by
stately oaks and one of the most beautiful gardens in the whole of
Europe. That was the home of the Princess of Orange. A long avenue
formed by two rows of wide-spreading trees, whose branches met and
formed a canopy overhead, led to the main door of the palace, and clean,
freshly gravelled walks wound in and out to the utmost limit of the
well-kept grounds. Not far off was a dower palace, called the Old Court.
A paved walk, also bordered with fine old trees, trimmed in the shape of
pyramids, led from the Hague to the seaport of Scheveling; and, as this
was open to the public, every passenger had to pay a small toll to keep
it in good order.
But the English attendants who had accompanied the princess wanted
something besides a beautiful residence; they were not pleased with
their new home, and longed for England and the old scenes and old faces
they had left behind them. The princess was fortunate in having her
uncle, Lord Clarendon, with her. He was ambassador at the Hague when she
first arrived; and, as her husband was called away shortly after, it was
most agreeable to have her uncle's protection.
[[A.D. 1678.]] The Prince of Orange returned from hunting one day, and
after reading a few letters announced his intention to proceed at once
to France. The princess accompanied her husband as far as Rotterdam, and
then bade him farewell.
During his absence the princess made a tour of her dominions, moving
from place to place in her barge by canal. While travelling in this
primitive manner, the ladies of the court amused themselves with
needlework or card-playing; and when Princess Mary sewed, Dr. Hooper
would read
{351}
[Illustration: 0357]
{353}from some serious work. Although not seventeen years of age at that
time, the princess managed her ladies remarkably well. She never showed
more favor to one than another; insisted on the observance of every
point of etiquette, and exercised so much authority that a look from her
was sufficient to put a stop to any conversation that did not meet with
her approval. Some years later Dr. Hooper paid her the compliment
of saying, "that during the entire time of his sojourn in her
household,--over a year and a half,--he never heard her say or saw her
do one thing that he could have wished she had not said or done."
The climate of Holland did not agree with the princess, and she had a
dangerous attack of malarial fever the following summer, from which she
did not entirely recover for many weeks. With the hope of cheering her
and accelerating her convalescence, the Duke of York sent his wife and
his daughter Anne to visit her. Princess Mary was beside herself with
joy, for she had not seen her sister since her marriage, and she had
always been the best of friends with her stepmother. The Duchess of York
called her "the Lemon," and her husband "the Orange": and most of her
letters to Mary before the revolution began "My dear Lemon."
[[A.D. 1679.]] The following year the Duke of York was banished from
England on account of his religion, and went to visit his daughter in
Holland, who treated him with the most tender affection. Her health was
not then entirely restored, for she still suffered from attacks of ague,
and was ordered to try the climate of Dieren, where her husband owned
a hunting palace. The change did her a great deal of good, and she
returned to the Palace of the Wood in time to see Dr. Hooper go back
to England to marry a lady to whom he had been engaged for many months.
{354}Mary was very much alarmed lest she should lose the services of her
almoner, and begged him to prevail upon his lady to come to Holland. He
promised to do his best and succeeded; but it was very mortifying to the
princess that she was unable to extend her hospitality to Mrs. Hooper.
The doctor had always taken his meals with the ladies of the bed-chamber
and the maids-of-honor of the princess, and his wife was invited to do
the same.
But knowing, as everybody did, that Prince William was too stingy to
be willing to feed one person more than he was actually obliged to, Dr.
Hooper never allowed his wife to eat at the palace, but took his meals
with her at their lodging-house, not far away. Fortunately he was a man
of means, for as he received only a few pounds from Prince William
for all his services at the Dutch court he could not otherwise have
subsisted.
The Princess Mary had another visit from her sister Anne, when she was
permitted by King Charles to join her father during his banishment; and
the whole family of the Duke of York spent some time together in Holland
on the most amicable terms. At that period Mary did not know how her
husband was intriguing with such men as Sunderland, Oates, and Bedloe,
who were mixed up in the popish plot, for the purpose of depriving her
father of his succession, and bringing on her native land the curse of
civil war. She would have been horrified at such an idea.
Princess Mary was not happily married, for her husband was so cross and
disagreeable that it was impossible for her to love him. Her life was
almost one of imprisonment, because, although she was condescension
itself to the wives of the burgomasters and other ladies, she never lost
sight of her own high birth sufficiently to permit of any intimacy or
exchange of visits; consequently she was confined to the narrow circle
of her own court, which was very tiresome {355}to a woman accustomed to
all the pomp, grandeur, and gayety of royal life in England.
One thing that interested her was the building of a palace by her
husband at Loo. She laid the corner-stone with all the ceremony that
usually attends such a performance, and planned the decorations of the
building as well as the laying out of the gardens and walks. After the
palace was completed, Princess Mary occupied apartments that were called
"the queen's suite" forever after, though when she became Queen of
England she ceased to live in Holland, and never even visited there.
Under the windows of this suite was "the queen's garden," in the centre
of which was a splendid large fountain. This garden opened through
a hedge into another adorned with a number of fine statues. Then the
princess had a poultry-yard, where she raised a fine breed of fowls
that she was fond of tending, feeding, and watching,--an amusement that
served to pass away many a tedious hour.
[[A.D. 1680.]] Beyond the park was an immense aqueduct that supplied all
the fountains and the fish-pond, as well as the means for irrigating;
then there were further on long shady walks that terminated in a grove,
where Mary often went to enjoy an hour's solitude, or perhaps to weep
over her forlorn situation. She read, embroidered, and continued her
drawing-lessons with Gibson, the dwarf master, who had followed her to
Holland but had scarcely any society besides her maids-of-honor and her
good nurse, Mrs. Langford, whose husband was one of her chaplains. All
her English attendants were heartily detested by the prince, who managed
to get rid of as many of them as possible and replace them with his
Dutch subjects, who were, in most instances, by no means agreeable to
Mary.
[[A.D. 1684.]] Year by year William of Orange imposed so many acts of
cruelty on his wife that at last she was {356}almost afraid to express
her opinion on any subject, and by the grossest misrepresentations
he turned her heart from her own family, and in every possible way
encouraged an intimacy between her and the Duke of Monmouth while he was
an exile from England. This was before the Duke of York had ascended the
throne. Charles II. had banished Monmouth from his realm; and William's
object in being so friendly with him was, that in this enemy of the Duke
of York he knew he should find a powerful ally who would further any
plan of his, no matter how unscrupulous, by which he meant to prevent
James from assuming the crown and usurp his place. The banished duke
must have exerted a powerful influence over the mind of the princess in
some mysterious way, otherwise it is hard to understand how she could
consent to show marks of favor to a man who calumniated her own father.
But she was sadly changed by this time, and all the affection she had
once entertained for her parents had vanished. She went constantly to
hear political sermons preached against her father, who was accused of
dreadful crimes, that, whether true or false, should never have been
pronounced within the hearing of his daughter. Her life that had been so
monotonous became gay in the extreme after the appearance of Monmouth
at the Hague; and she danced, flirted, and promenaded with him in a most
undignified manner. Her father heard of this conduct, and remonstrated
with the princess. She shed tears over his letter, but said, "that the
prince was her master and would be obeyed." This was partly true, no
doubt; but after being shut up as she had been for several years, she
went to the other extreme, and enjoyed the gayety that her husband
permitted her to indulge in while he was using her as a tool to
further his intrigues with Monmouth. She is certainly to blame for her
undignified behavior, but still more for the disrespect {357}she showed
her father, who had always been most kind and indulgent to her. In one
of his fault-finding letters he wrote his daughter to warn her husband
against Monmouth, who, in the event of King Charles's death and his
own, would, he assured her, give them a struggle before they could get
possession of the throne of Great Britain. Thus we see that James knew
Monmouth was not to be trusted, though suspicion with regard to his
son-in-law had not yet entered his head.
It was not long after the marriage of Mary that King Charles began to
think about a husband for his other niece, the Princess Anne. Several
candidates for her hand were duly presented and considered, but at last
the choice fell on Prince George of Denmark, brother to King Christian
of that country. He was a valiant soldier, and had distinguished himself
in several battles with the Swedes, during which he had rescued his
brother, the king, from the enemy by his wonderful dash and presence of
mind. He and the Princess Anne were married in 1683; and their nuptials,
unlike those of Mary and the Prince of Orange, were conducted with great
pomp, and succeeded by the usual celebrations. King Charles settled on
the bride an income of twenty thousand pounds per annum, and presented
her with a small palace adjoining Whitehall for her residence, for it
was arranged that she was not to go to Denmark to live.
[[A.D. 1685.]] We have spoken of the gay doings at the Holland court,
but they were not to continue long; for suddenly everything was changed
to mourning on the announcement of the death of King Charles II. of
England. Princess Mary was very much grieved on account of this sad
event, for all her remembrances of her uncle were of the most agreeable
nature. The Duke of Monmouth and Prince William were closeted together
for several hours after the {358}news came, and that very night the duke
started for England.
[Illustration: 0364]
But so secretly were his preparations and departure made that he was
supposed to be shut up in his own room until late on the following clay.
It was the prince who furnished him with money for the rash invasion of
England which resulted in his execution. The details of his bold exploit
are given in the last reign.
After James was firmly seated on the throne, it would never do tor the
Prince of Orange to appear in the light of {359}an enemy, so he had to
change his tactics forthwith. He pretended that the affectionate letters
to his wife from her father were addressed to himself, and read them
aloud to the ambassadors. To the king he wrote in the most humble terms,
promising fidelity till death, and explaining that Monmouth had received
only common hospitality at his hands, and been sent away-from the Hague
as soon as possible.
Certainly James II. regretted the necessity which compelled him to put
Monmouth to death, but Princess Mary had formed such an attachment for
him that she never forgave her father for causing that execution.
[[A.D. 1686.]] During the following spring a plot against the life of
Prince William was revealed to the princess, and she became so alarmed
that she obtained for him a bodyguard, which had not previously been
considered at all necessary.
Then William Penn was sent by James II. to convince the prince that all
laws tending to religious persecutions ought to be abolished; but his
errand was a failure, because the prince declared "that he would lose
all the revenues and prospects of the kingdom of Great Britain, to which
his wife was heiress, before one should be abolished." And the princess
indorsed this decision, adding: "That if ever she were Queen of England
she should do more for the Protestants than even Queen Elizabeth had
done."
Penn spoke so plainly to the princess, and expressed his opinion so
freely, that she disliked him forever after.
[[A.D. 1688.]] The Prince and Princess of Orange had their spies in
England, who kept them daily informed of every change in the political
drama. Of these Lord and Lady Sunderland were the principal agents, and
as this lord was prime minister he had special facilities for gaining
knowledge. Another was the Princess Anne whose letters {360}were
remarkable for coarseness, vulgarity, and bad spelling. As she did not
know of the bond existing between Lady Sunderland and her sister Mary,
she sometimes filled her letters with abuse of that person, on whom she
did not hesitate to bestow some very hard epithets. Her remarks must
often have amused both William and Mary, who were better aware of what
was going on in Great Britain than she was, although they were not on
the spot. One of Anne's letters closes with this sentence: "One thing I
forgot to tell you about Lord Sunderland, which is that it is thought
if everything does not go here as he would have it, that he will pick
a quarrel with the court and so retire, and possibly make his court to
you."
This shows that the princess little suspected Lord Sunderland of already
being in the service of William. She had reasons of her own for trying
to create ill-feeling between Mary and her father; and once when the
princess had hinted at the possibility of her visiting England, Anne
warned her in rather vague terms that her life might be in danger were
she to present herself at her father's court.
If Mary had considered how kind and indulgent that father had always
been to his children, she would have insisted on an explanation; but the
correspondence between these two sisters was interrupted for awhile
by Anne's illness. The king watched by her bedside until she was past
danger, and nursed her with the most tender care. What would have been
his feelings, could he have known the treachery of the invalid at
whose side he sat hour after hour, anxiously awaiting the result of her
disease?
Shortly after her recovery, Princess Anne asked permission of her father
to spend a few weeks at the Hague. The Prince of Denmark, her husband,
was going on a visit to his native land, and it was his wife's plan that
she should be conducted by him to her sister's court, there to remain
{361}until his return. Her confidential friend, Lady Churchill, was to
accompany her. But King James had begun to see something of the part
his children were playing against him, and peremptorily refused to allow
Anne to leave England. In a fit of temper at being thus opposed she
retired to Bath, where she remained until after the birth of her
brother, whose appearance in the world was most unwelcome to both her
and Mary of Orange.
Meanwhile affairs had taken such a turn that King James's downfall was
rapidly approaching. His adherence to the Catholic cause deprived him of
support from the Reformed church, and obliged some of the best and most
loyal of his subjects to stand by and witness his ruin, though with
intense pain, because they were unable to stir hand or foot in his
behalf.
Lord Clarendon, who had by this time returned to London from the
Hague, was one of these. It will be remembered that he was King James's
brother-in law, and a warm friendship had always existed between the
two men. It was most painful to him to observe the indifference of Anne
towards her father, particularly when reports reached England that the
Prince of Orange was coming over with an army to invade the country.
Clarendon questioned the princess to find out how much she knew of the
matter, but could get very little satisfaction, for she evaded him as
much as possible, and pretended to have no information but that which
her husband had received from the king himself. After several vain
attempts to induce his niece to speak to her father and endeavor
to console him,--for he had sunken into a most painful state of
melancholy,--Lord Clarendon begged her at least to urge the king to
consult with some of his old friends, each and all of whom were warmly
attached to him. But this unnatural daughter put him off, and preferred
to increase her father's anguish. {362}One day in October there was a
royal levee at Whitehall. The king was in a painfully depressed state
of mind, and told Lord Clarendon that the Prince of Orange had embarked
with his Dutch troops, and only awaited a favorable wind to sail,
adding, "I have nothing by this day's post from my daughter Mary; and it
is the first time I have missed hearing from her for a long while."
The unfortunate father never heard from her again.
Lord Clarendon made another attempt to induce Anne to save her father,
which she might have done if she had chosen; but she did not, and
treated every proposition with disgusting levity.
Louis XIV. offered to intercept the Dutch fleet; but James declined his
aid, because of the confidence he felt in his daughter Mary. Her last
letter assured him that the prince's fleet was made ready to repel an
attack of the French, which was hourly expected; and the fond, confiding
father believed her.
It was Dr. Burnet, a well-known author and minister, who undertook
to explain to the Princess of Orange all the details of the political
situation; and after the prince decided to get possession of the throne
of Great Britain, he asked her what would be her husband's position, she
being the heir and not he.
She replied that she had not considered that point, but would be obliged
to him if he would tell her. Burnet, who was evidently acting in the
interest of the prince, replied, "That she must be contented as a wife
to engage in her husband's interest and give him the real authority as
soon as it came into her hands." Mary consented, and asked the doctor to
bring the prince to her that she might assure him of her submission
to his will. William was hunting that day; but on the morrow, after
informing him of the conversation with the princess, Burnet conducted
him to her presence. {363}Mary told him that she was surprised to hear
from the doctor how, by the laws of England, a husband could be made
subservient to his wife, providing the title of king came to him through
her; and added a solemn promise that she should always be obedient to
him, and that _he_ should rule, not she. It seems surprising that so
faithless a daughter should have been so dutiful a wife; but the prince
had broken her spirit by his frequent acts of cruelty and neglect, and
she was as submissive as a whipped cur.
Instead of thanking his wife, William treated her decision as a matter
of course, and merely answered with a grunt of satisfaction, giving Dr.
Burnet great credit for the persuasive eloquence that had brought about
so favorable a result.
In October the Prince of Orange sailed with a fleet of fifty-two ships
of war; and, after a very stormy voyage, landed at an English village on
the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot.
Meeting with no opposition, he marched four miles into Devonshire,
followed by his entire force. The prince knew what a risk he was taking,
and waited with breathless anxiety to see how many of the west of
England people would flock to his standard.
He published a declaration that the Prince of Wales was not the real
child of James II.; but that a strange baby had been adopted to impose
on the British nation, who was to rule them as a Roman Catholic. This
was done to prevent the country from educating the prince according
to the doctrines of the Church of England, which would probably have
established his succession. Of course a child upon whose birth any doubt
was cast could never rule as a Catholic, nor be educated by the state
for any purpose; therefore the daughters of James II. pretended to
{364}believe the falsehood, knowing that in the event of the prince's
accession they would stand no chance of ever wearing the crown.
News arrived in London that Lord Cornbury, eldest son of the Earl of
Clarendon, had deserted the king's army with three regiments, and gone
over to the enemy. Clarendon was overcome with grief and shame at such
conduct on the part of one of his flesh and blood. When Princess Anne
saw him she asked why he had not been to see her for several days. He
replied, "that he was so much concerned for the villany his son had
committed that he was ashamed of being seen anywhere."
"Oh," replied the princess, "people are so apprehensive of popery that
you will find many more of the army will do the same."
And she was right; for desertions became of daily occurrence, and
King James was surrounded by traitors on all sides. Anne knew of Lord
Cornbury's intended desertion, and was anxiously awaiting news from her
husband, who, with a display of affection and sincerity, had gone off
with her father to assist in defending him against the Prince of Orange.
Lord Churchill and Sir George Hewett were with the king also; and these
two were concerned in a plot against the life of their sovereign, which
the latter confessed on his deathbed some years later.
Every time the king heard that one of his officers had gone over to
the enemy, Prince George of Denmark would raise his eyes and hands with
affected surprise, and exclaim, "Is it possible!" At last, after supping
with the king and speaking in terms of abhorrence of all deserters, the
prince, Churchill, and Hewett, taking advantage of an attack of illness
that had suddenly seized their sovereign, went off in the night to the
hostile camp. When informed of it, James exclaimed: "How? Has 'Is It
Possible' gone {365}off, too?" Yet this departure was a cruel blow to
the father, who said: "After all, I only mind his conduct as connected
with my child; otherwise the loss of a stout trooper would have been
greater."
In expectation of her husband's desertion, Anne had made arrangements
for her own flight; and no sooner did the news reach her that he had
gone than she followed. It was Sunday night, and the princess retired to
her room at the usual hour. Mrs. Danvers, the lady-in-waiting, was not
in the secret, and went to bed as usual in the ante-chamber. Ladies
Fitzharding and Churchill had entered Princess Anne's room early in the
evening, and hidden themselves by agreement in her dressing-room. At
midnight, accompanied by these two women, the princess stole out of
the palace, and met Lord Dorset in St. James's Park. A coach stood in
waiting a little distance off; but the rain poured in torrents, and the
mud was so deep that Anne lost one of her shoes in a puddle, from which
there was neither time nor inclination to extricate it. This little
accident was treated as a joke by the adventurers, who laughed heartily,
while Lord Dorset gallantly stuck the princess's foot into one of the
kid gauntlets he had pulled off; and assisted her to hop forward to the
carriage. The party drove to the Bishop of London's house, where they
were refreshed and the princess supplied with shoes, and started by
daybreak for Lord Dorset's castle in Waltham Forest.
After a few hours' rest they proceeded to Nottingham, where the Earl of
Northampton, attired in military uniform, raised a purple standard in
the name of the laws and liberties of England, and invited the people to
gather around the Protestant heiress to the throne. Afterwards Anne went
on to Warwick, where there was a project on foot for the extermination
of all the papists in England. Although the princess knew that her
father's head would be the first to {366}fall should such a plan be
carried into effect, she was so unnatural as to favor it.
A tremendous uproar was raised when Anne's women-in-waiting entered her
room the morning after her flight and found her bed undisturbed and
the princess herself missing. Before many minutes the whole court was
aroused with the lamentations of the people, who declared that the
princess had been murdered by the queen's priests. The storm rose to
such a height that a mob collected in the street and swore that the
palace should be pulled down, and Mary Beatrice pulled to pieces if
Anne were not forthcoming. No doubt the threat would have been put
into execution had it not been for the discovery of a letter which the
missing princess had left lying on her toilet-table, stating that she
had gone off to avoid the king's displeasure on account of her husband's
desertion; and that she should remain away until a reconciliation had
been effected. "Never was any one," she wrote, "in such an unhappy
condition, so divided between duty to a father and a husband; and
therefore I know not what I must do but to follow one to preserve the
other." This would be all very well if she had been dutiful to her
father; but as she had only one week before informed Orange by letter
that her husband would soon be with him, ready to serve his cause to the
utmost, we can only feel intense disgust at such deception {367}