(A.D. 1694-1714.)
|We have already heard a great deal about Anne, because up to the death
of her sister, Queen Mary, their lives are so closely connected that
it is impossible to understand some of the incidents without mentioning
both sisters. The death of Mary brought Princess Anne more into public
notice as heir presumptive to the throne, though it was many years
before she became Queen of England. Heretofore, as we have seen, she
lived like a private person at Berkeley House, and had not even been
permitted to appear at court, because of the ill-feeling that existed
between her and her sister Mary. Lord and Lady Marlborough, whose
devotion to Princess Anne had seriously offended the queen, still
continued her warm friends, and the princess wrote letters to her father
filled with professions of loyalty and affection as before. King James
did not attach much importance to them; but how could he, poor man,
after the sad experience he had had. He knew perfectly well that his
daughter merely consulted her own interest whether she appeared in the
light of his friend or his enemy; for never was a father worse treated
than poor James had been by both his daughters.
The Duke of Gloucester was with his mother when Queen Mary's death was
announced, and his attendants were surprised at the indifference he
manifested. He had been fond of his royal aunt; but as he was only five
years
{401}
[Illustration: 0407]
{403}of age, he could not comprehend the full significance of death, and
like most children, was more interested in those people and objects that
immediately surrounded him. It was otherwise with his mother, for she
and her sister had loved each other devotedly in early years; and when
the grave closed over Queen Mary's body, all enmity was forgotten, and
Princess Anne could only remember that a once fondly loved relative was
irrevocably lost. The old affection returned, and she wept bitter tears.
The memory of her sister made her heart warm towards King William, whom
she had thoroughly detested for several years. Perhaps his desperate
grief touched her, for he shut himself up in Kensington Palace and gave
vent to the most agonizing sobs. Those who knew him best were surprised
that a man of his disposition could take sorrow so to heart; but he had
lost a devoted wife and friend,--one who had sought to place him in the
foremost ranks on every occasion, and to gain for him the credit and
praise that was really due to her own superior talent for ruling.
William III. was well aware of this, and of the fact that henceforth his
hold on the crown was by no means secure. His only right to his lofty
position was through his wife, and now that she was removed might not
a breath deprive him of it? While the war lasted he was compelled to
absent himself from England nearly half the year. Hitherto Queen Mary
had supplied his place, who was to do so now? His position seemed
difficult and dangerous. One day, when he was sitting alone with his
head bowed down in grief, Lord Somers entered the room. The king took no
notice of him whatever. After waiting a few moments, Somers approached
and stated the cause of his intrusion, which was a proposition he
desired to make that the hostility of the court towards Princess Anne
should terminate.
"My lord, do as you please; I can think of no business," was the reply
of the sorrow-stricken king. {404}Lord Somers chose to construe this
undecided answer into consent, and so set to work to negotiate a
reconciliation through Lord Sunderland, by whose advice Princess Anne
was induced to write the following letter to the king:--
_Sir,--I beg your majesty's favorable acceptance of my sincere and
hearty sorrow for your great affliction in the loss of the queen. And I
do assure your majesty I am as sensibly touched with this sad
misfortune as if I had never been so unhappy as to have fallen into her
displeasure._
_It is my earnest desire your majesty would give me leave to wait upon
you as soon as it can be without inconvenience to yourself, and without
danger of increasing your affliction, that I may have the opportunity
myself, not only of repeating this, but assuring your majesty of my
real intentions to omit no occasion of giving you constant proofs of my
sincere respect and concern for your person and interest, as becomes,
sir,_
_Your majesty's affectionate sister and servant, Anne._
The princess must have felt her welfare at stake as well as that of her
son; otherwise she could not have been induced to write so dutiful a
letter to the brother-in-law who had treated her so unkindly for many
years. It was Archbishop Tennison who took it upon himself to deliver
the letter, and at the same time to say all he could in praise of the
disinterested conduct of the princess during the period when she was
debarred from appearing at court. King William knew better, but gave the
archbishop credit for honesty, and concluded that he might with safety
trust to the fidelity of Anne now, because her interest was closely
linked with his own. He therefore sent her some of the late queen's
jewels, in token of reconciliation, and appointed an interview at
Kensington Palace.
Anne was in such a dreadful state of health, and so puffed up with
dropsy, that she had to be carried to the presence-chamber in a chair.
Both she and the king were affected to tears when they met, and after
a few remarks they retired to a private room, where they conversed for
{405}nearly three-quarters of an hour. The details of that interview are
not known; but it is certain that the royal brother and sister-in-law
agreed to combine all their interests against James II. and his son, and
William further consented to an amnesty with the Earl of Marlborough,
for whom he felt supreme contempt.
[Illustration: 0411]
When Bentinck was consulted as to his opinion of the reconciliation, he
warned the king against putting any trust in the professions of either
Marlborough or the princess; but he had withdrawn himself from the side
of his once beloved master for some mysterious reason, and another
was required to take his place, so in course of time we shall find
the much-despised earl courted and honored by King William. {406}The
reconciliation between Anne and the king had not been effected too soon,
for the Jacobites began to agitate the question whether the princess was
not the real Queen of Great Britain, and Ireland; and those provinces
that were not kept in subjection by the dread of a standing army were
prepared to rebel against a foreign king, who held his position merely
by permission of parliament. These were all prepared to support Anne,
with the hope that once placed upon the throne she would not hesitate
to resign in favor of her father and brother, because her friendly
correspondence with the former was known. Many important arrests were
made, and many agitators escaped from the kingdom. Anne continued
writing to her father, and made promises that she had no idea of
fulfilling; but he was not deceived, though he deeply deplored the
alliance she had formed for the second time with his enemy.
When William returned to Flanders he left no power in the hands of
Anne whatever, but the council of nine took entire charge of government
affairs, and the Archbishop of Canterbury was one of their number.
King William's reign, contrary to the expectation of all the statesmen
of Europe, was decidedly more prosperous and more tranquil after Queen
Mary's death than it had been during her life.
In course of time Princess Anne's health improved, and she became a
great huntress. This exercise was begun for the cure of gout and dropsy,
but was continued on account of the pleasure the princess derived from
it. She was too fat to hunt on horseback, but went in a sort of sedan
chair, hung between two very high wheels, and drawn by one horse. How
the stag was ever brought down when hunted from such an equipage is a
mystery that experienced sportsmen may be able to solve. {407}The
young Duke of Gloucester still lived at Campden House, because it was
considered a healthful spot, and his health was so delicate that it was
feared he might die if not carefully watched. He had a disease called
water on the brain, which made his head larger than it ought to have
been, and often threatened to prostrate him. There were times when he
could not bear to go up or down stairs without having a person to hold
him on either side. This fancy was indulged for a time, but at last
it was attributed to cowardice, for there was no one sufficiently
well-informed as to the nature of his disease to suspect that he felt
dizzy. His mother once shut herself up in a room with him for an hour
to try and reason him out of being led about, as he was then past five
years of age, but he obstinately refused to stir alone until he was
whipped again and again. The fact of a child of his vivacity fearing to
go up and down stairs without assistance ought to have been sufficient
evidence that something was wrong with him; but after the whipping,
which certainly ought not to have been administered to a person
suffering from any disease of the brain, the young prince dispensed with
support, though his head must often have ached and felt very confused.
Prince George of Denmark was particularly anxious that no infirmity
should be observed in his son, because he could not bear to have him
held up to ridicule by the scribblers, who considered no calamity sacred
from the merciless attacks of their pens. The brutal articles that
appeared daily against the "the young pretender" prompted him to shield
his son from similar ones by the opposite party. That was all very well;
but disease cannot be whipped out of anybody, and so the prince was
encouraged to fight against his malady until he became very ill. Doctor
Radcliffe was summoned from Oxford, and did all he could for the little
sufferer, who had a fever which kept him in bed {408}two whole weeks.
But he was not permitted to be quiet, for his small soldiers were
constantly at his bedside blowing their trumpets, beating drums,
building toy fortifications, and making a great deal more noise most of
the time than was good for the invalid. The old nurse of Princess
Anne sent the sick boy a large doll dressed as a warrior by one of his
attendants named Wetherby. This present occasioned much indignation
among the young soldiers, because it was full six months since any of
them had condescended to play with toys of so effeminate a nature,
and sentence of destruction was immediately pronounced on the doll. No
sooner was it carried into effect than it was decided that the messenger
ought to receive punishment, too.
[[A.D. 1695.]] But Wetherby knew what a rough lot of boys surrounded the
prince, and, taking warning by the treatment the doll had received
at their hands, hastened down Campden-Hill and hid himself. In the
afternoon the unfortunate fellow was discovered and captured,--four
grown men having been pressed into the service,--and locked up all
night. The next morning he was brought before the Duke of Gloucester,
who pronounced his sentence. Wetherby was forthwith bound, hand and
foot, mounted on a large hobby-horse and soused all over with water from
large syringes. This was all done for the amusement of the duke; and as
Wetherby had taken part on various occasions in playing similar jokes
on the men who assisted the boys, they showed him no mercy now. When the
poor prisoner was half-drowned, he was drawn into the presence of the
invalid, who enjoyed immensely his woeful plight.
The following summer change of air was strongly recommended for the
royal boy by Dr. Radcliffe, and, after seeking accommodation at
several watering-places, the Princess {409}Anne decided to take him to
Twickenham. There she was offered three adjoining houses which belonged
to Mrs. Davies, a gentlewoman more than eighty years of age, who had
belonged to the court of Charles I. This lady was bright, cheerful,
healthy, and excessively pious. She was simple in her habits, and had
lived on fruit and herbs nearly all her life. She was well-born and
rich, and owned a large estate, on which were planted a number of fine
fruit trees. Her cherries, which were just ripe when the princess went
to Twickenham, were the finest in all the country around; and the old
lady gave the people of the royal household full permission to gather as
many as they chose, providing that they would not injure her trees, of
which she was very proud.
At the end of a month Princess Anne ordered her treasurer to hand Mrs.
Davies a hundred guineas for rent and the trouble her people had given;
but the aged hostess positively refused to accept a farthing, and when
pressed to receive the money, she indignantly arose, and, letting the
gold-pieces that had been placed in her lap, roll all over the floor,
quietly walked out of the room. The princess was astonished at such
generosity, and declared that, although it would have been a pleasure to
her to reward the old lady to the utmost of her power, her feelings must
not be hurt by a further offer of money.
The little Duke of Gloucester formed such a warm attachment for Mrs.
Davies that he loved to nestle in her lap and confide to her all his
secret woes. His younger and fairer associates, who lavished flattery
and attention on him, were not half so attractive as the honest dame,
who, having nothing to gain or lose, always told him the truth. The
royal boy's religious education had not been neglected; prayers had been
read to him twice every day by his chaplain; but he never knew what they
meant, {410}nobody had taken the trouble to explain them; and he had
naturally paid little attention to what he had failed to understand.
Mrs. Davies soon comprehended where the difficulty lay; and it was from
her lips that the duke learned the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, the
Ten Commandments, and several hymns, all of which were carefully and
patiently explained until they were made clear to his infant mind.
One Sunday, when the princess was preparing to go to church, her son
asked if he might accompany her. She was surprised, because he had never
made such a request before, but gave permission. Then the little Duke of
Gloucester ran to inform his governess, Lady Fitzharding, who asked
him if he would say the psalms,--a performance to which he had always
objected.
"I will sing them," proudly replied the boy; thus showing the effect of
his aged friend's instruction.
One day, while the princess was making her toilet, the boy looked up
into her face and asked: "Mamma, why have you two chaplains, and I but
one?"
"Pray," returned the mother, with an amused smile, "what do you give
your one chaplain?" She merely asked this question to hear what sort
of a reply her son would make, and to find out whether he knew that the
chaplains of the royal household received no pay.
The little duke looked at her earnestly for a moment, and then said:
"Mamma, I give him his liberty!"
The princess laughed heartily at the little boy's unconscious repartee.
On his return to Campden House the Duke of Gloucester found his soldier
company posted as sentinels on guard, and they received their commander
with presented arms and all the honors of war. After that the daily
drill took place regularly on an open plain, called Wormwood Common.
{411}One morning the duke fell with a pistol in his hand, and hurt
his forehead against it. The wound was still bleeding when he reached
Campden House, and the ladies began to pity him; but he put on a bold
air and told them "that a bullet had grazed his forehead, but that as a
soldier he could not cry when wounded."
There was so much ceremony observed among the royal attendants all the
time that Mr. Tratt, the tutor, considered it an infringement of his
rights when Jenkins, the Welsh usher, undertook to give the Duke of
Gloucester his first lessons in fencing and mathematics.
The child ran to his mother every time he learned anything new to make
a display of his knowledge; but Jenkins was told to "mind his own
business" by those who considered that he ought to be otherwise
employed. Lady Fitz-harding, in particular, found great fault with his
filling the duke's head with such "stuff" as mathematics, and seemed
to regard the figures drawn in geometry some sort of magic-signs that
savored of witchcraft. But her husband eased her mind by assuring her
that Lewis Jenkins "was a good youth, who had read much, but meant no
harm." The princess ordered Lord Fitzharding to hinder Jenkins from
teaching her son anything, because he might get wrong ideas, that it
would be hard to correct when he began to study according to the regular
method.
Shortly after she saw the duke fencing with a wooden sword, and
defending himself against the attack of an imaginary foe. "I thought I
forbade your people to fence with you," observed her royal highness.
"Oh yes, mamma," replied the child; "but I hope you will give them leave
to defend themselves when I attack them."
He never tired of hearing tales from ancient history, and could recite
many exploits of the heroes, much to the disgust {412}of the tutor, who
knew that the knowledge had not been imparted by him.
On the return of her brother-in-law in the autumn, Princess Anne wrote
him a letter of congratulation on his conquest of Namur. The one she
wrote after the death of the queen had resulted so favorably to herself
that she expected equally pleasant effects from the present one; but she
soon found her mistake, for the king had come home in a bad humor, and
treated her letter with silent contempt. Perhaps congratulations seemed
out of place when he remembered that the lives of twelve thousand men
had paid the cost of his victory, besides an enormous sum of money.
A few weeks later he made a state visit to Campden House, when the duke
received him with military honors. The king was very much amused, and
asked the child "whether he had any horses yet."
"Oh yes," replied he, "I have one live horse and two dead ones."
"You keep dead horses, do you?" asked his majesty. "That is not the way
with soldiers, for they always bury their dead horses."
The little duke was impressed by what his uncle had said, and determined
to be as much like a real soldier as possible; so he summoned his
regiment as soon as the king had departed, and buried his two hobby
horses that he had designated as dead ones. A Shetland pony, no larger
than a Newfoundland dog, was his riding animal.
During the king's absence Princess Anne had received all due honors, as
first royal lady of the realm, and this gratified her ambition entirely;
but when his majesty thought fit to confer upon his favorite, Bentinck,
and his heirs forever, all the rights of the Princess of Wales, not
only was Anne justly indignant at seeing her son deprived {413}of
his privileges, but the whole country viewed the action with extreme
disfavor, and the House of Commons contested it with great warmth.
William III. was compelled to revoke the grant; but the hard feeling it
had aroused in the mind of Princess Anne remained, and his majesty took
no pains to conciliate her. On the contrary, as soon as he was convinced
that the removal of his wife had not affected his position, he began to
regret the alliance he had formed with his sister-in-law, and treated
her with marked disrespect. He even forbade the members of the clergy
to bow before her previous to beginning their sermons, according to the
custom in the Church of England at that time. To be sure, the Dean
of Canterbury and the rector of St. James's Church did not pay the
slightest attention to the prohibition, and the princess always returned
their salute with marked civility.
King William had become dreadfully irritable since the death of his
wife. We know that he was naturally surly and ill-natured; but his
fondness for Holland gin excited him to such a degree that he would cane
his inferior servants if they chanced to neglect even the most trifling
duty. The way they tried to dodge his majesty when he was in an
unusually fractious mood was amusing, and the members of the royal
household called those who were obliged to submit to the blows "King
William's Knights of the Cane."
A French servant, who had charge of his majesty's guns, and who attended
him in his shooting excursions in the Hampden Court park, forgot one
day to provide himself with shot, although it was his duty to load the
fowling-piece. He did not dare to acknowledge his neglect, but kept
charging the gun with powder only, and every time the king fired would
exclaim, "I did never,--no, never, see his majesty miss before." Thus
are petty tyrants invariably deceived.
[[A.D. 1696.]]
{414}
[Illustration: 0420]
As the anniversary of King William's birthday approached there was a
flutter of excitement at court, and all the beaux and belles of the
English nobility flocked to town to attend the grand reception that was
to take place. This was no pleasure to William, for he had been aided in
such matters by his wife, who had known better how to conduct herself on
such occasions than he did; and now that he had to undertake a ceremony
which he disliked, with no one one to guide him, he felt his bereavement
more deeply than ever. If he had been friendly towards Anne he might
have enlisted her services, and escaped from some of the etiquette that
was so irksome to him. But instead of that, he actually treated her with
no more consideration than he showed to the wives of the aldermen and
common councilmen, and kept her waiting with them for nearly two
hours in the ante-chamber. This insult was repeated on several similar
occasions, until the {415}public began to murmur, and the English
officials who had access to the king took the liberty of reminding him
that her royal highness was his superior by birth, and that the nation
would not submit to his showing contempt towards their princess. Then
his majesty deemed it prudent to alter his arrangements, and at the
future receptions the lord chamberlain was instructed to usher her royal
highness into the presence chamber immediately on her arrival. After
that, all her attendants were treated with respect, and the king showed
himself enough of a diplomatist to extend favors that would redound to
his own credit. He called at Campden House and requested Princess Anne
and her husband to take possession of St. James's Palace as soon as
they pleased, and further surprised them with the announcement that as a
garter had fallen into his possession by the death of Lord Strafford,
he intended to bestow it upon his nephew, the Duke of Gloucester. This
visit was succeeded by one from Burnet, the Bishop of Salisbury, who
came with the information that a meeting of the Order of the Garter
would be held on the sixth of January, and asked the duke if the thought
of becoming a knight did not please him. "I am more pleased at the
king's favor," was the discreet reply.
It was King William himself who buckled on the little duke's garter
and presented the star, both of which he was to wear daily forever
after,--though that office was usually performed by one of the knights.
After resting for awhile in his mother's room on his return to
Campden-House, the duke went to his play-room, where he met Harry
Scull, his favorite drummer. "Your dream has come true, Harry,"
gladly announced the royal boy, displaying his star and garter to his
companion, who had dreamed that he saw his commander so adorned.
At this period the duke's malady seems to have been {416}for a time
arrested, for he looked well and was full of animal spirits. This
rendered his mother happier than she had been in many a day, besides she
was residing in the palace of her ancestors, her rank was recognized
by the king and his government, and she regularly received a liberal
income. Windsor Castle was granted to her for her summer residence,
though it was occasionally shared by her royal brother-in-law, who had
reserved for his exclusive use Hampton Court and Kensington Palace.
There was only one flaw in the happiness of Princess Anne at this
period, and that was a report that when the king returned from his
summer campaign there was a probability that he would bring home a Dutch
bride.
Meanwhile, the Duke of Gloucester was taken to Windsor, for the first
time, in company with his parents. The princess ordered Mrs. Atkinson
to show her son the royal apartments in the castle, and to give him a
description of the pictures. The child was particularly pleased with St.
George's Hall, and clapped his hands with delight as he declared that
the noble apartment would be just the place for him to fight his battles
in. Next day four boys were summoned from Eaton School to be the duke's
companions. They were young Lord Churchill, a mild, good-natured boy,
somewhat older than the duke, son of Lord and Lady Marlborough, the
two Bathursts, and Peter Boscawen. As soon as they appeared, the duke
proposed that a battle should be fought in St. George's Hall, and sent
for all his pikes, swords, and muskets. The music gallery, and the
stairs leading to it, were to represent the castle that he meant to
besiege. Mrs. Atkinson and Lewis Jenkins were in attendance, and both
were expected to take part in the battle. Young Boscawen and Peter
Bathurst were the enemy, and had been secretly requested not to hurt the
duke; but in the heat of the fray the latter lost the sheath {417}from
his sword, and before he made the discovery had wounded the duke in the
neck.
Jenkins stopped the battle to ascertain the nature of the wound; but,
staunching the blood with his handkerchief, the youth rushed up the
stairs into the enemy's garrison.
When the battle was over, the duke asked Mrs. Atkinson if she had a
surgeon near by.
"Oh, yes," she replied, "bustling about to revive the soldiers who
pretended to be dead or dying."
"Pray make no jest of it," urged the child, "for Peter Bathurst has
really wounded me in the battle."
The hurt was bathed and plastered up, and no serious consequence
resulted; but there are not, I fancy, many boys less than seven years of
age who would have continued the game, as the duke did, with the blood
trickling from a wound. The sight of blood terrifies some children. Not
so with the Duke of Gloucester; for when he attended his first hunt at
Windsor Park, the deer's throat was cut, after it had been shot, just
at his feet. Then Mr. Massam, his page, dipped his hand in the blood and
smeared it all over the duke's face. This excited great surprise; but
on being informed that such was the custom at first seeing a deer slain,
the mischievous little duke dipped his hands in the blood and besmeared
the faces of Jenkins and all the boys.
Princess Anne shrieked with terror one day when walking in the park
with her husband to see her son roll down the hill of one of the castle
fortifications, but he reassured her by declaring that when he was
engaged in battles and sieges he would have to get used to descending
such places. Prince George laughed, and always encouraged the child to
such exploits with the hope of thereby making him more hardy.
July 24, being the Duke of Gloucester's birthday, a {418}grand banquet
was given at St. George's Hall, at the king's expense, to the Knights of
the Garter. The princess was present, and had the proud satisfaction
of seeing her son walk in procession with the other knights from St.
George's Chapel to the hall. All the gentlemen wore their splendid robes
of the order, and took their places at the long tables in accordance
with their rank. The little duke appeared in his plumes and all the
gorgeous regalia that had been provided for him, and comported himself
among the full-grown knights with wonderful dignity.
In the evening the princess gave a splendid ball, and received all the
nobility, many of whom came from different parts of the country to do
honor to the occasion. The town of Windsor was illuminated, bells rang
out merrily, and the bright blaze of bonfires lit up the surrounding
scene for a great distance. There were besides fireworks on the terrace,
which delighted the young duke beyond everything. The entertainment
concluded with a musical drama, written expressly to celebrate the
birthday.
A few days later another festival to celebrate the wedding anniversary
of Princess Anne and Prince George of Denmark was held. In the morning
the royal couple went to visit their son, and found him superintending
the firing of his little cannon in honor of the day. Three rounds were
fired, which almost deafened the royal mamma, and excited her fears
because of the quantity of gunpowder the duke had at his command. After
this salute the boy approached his parents of his own accord, and,
making a profound bow, said: "Papa, I wish you and mamma unity, peace,
and concord,--not for a time, but forever." Of course the parents were
charmed with the courtesy and respect of their little pet, and embraced
him warmly.
Some hours later, Jenkins said to him: "You made a fine compliment to
their royal highnesses to-day, sir," {419}whereupon the child returned,
with gravity, "It was no compliment; it was sincere." Thus the little
fellow constantly made remarks far beyond his years, and excited the
wonder and admiration of all who surrounded him.
[[A.D. 1697.]] At the beginning of the new year great excitement
prevailed because of the discovery of a plot against the life of the
king. Sir John Fenwick was discovered to be at the head of it, and
was arrested on a charge of high treason. When he found that he was to
suffer death without a regular trial, Sir John gave such extraordinary
evidence against the majority of the nobility, including most of the
king's ministers, whom he accused of corresponding with James II., that
it was said if half of the number had been arrested for treason there
would not have been enough left to hang or behead the rest. Marlborough
was aimed at particularly; but that could have been no surprise to
William, who knew that the earl not only wrote himself during Queen
Mary's lifetime, but induced Princess Anne to do likewise. But his
majesty winked at this accusation, because he was convinced that
personal interest would now prompt the princess and her party to
continue loyal to him. Fenwick was beheaded on Tower Hill, and all his
revelations were quietly ignored, but the king took pains to possess
himself of all Sir John's private papers. He also kept a remarkable
sorrel shooting pony that had belonged to him; but of this animal we
shall hear more in the future.
Twelve gentlemen were executed the same year for plotting to waylay
William and kill him, in the midst of his guards, on his return from
a hunting expedition. The public were on the alert for any bit of
news they could glean, and excitement ran high during the trials
and executions, which took place at intervals throughout the year.
Associations were formed for the protection of the king, {420}and all
sorts of addresses, containing assurances of loyalty, were sent to him
from corporations and private individuals. The Duke of Gloucester was
one of the latter. He caused one of his soldiers, older than himself, to
write the following document, to which he affixed his signature, for he
could read and write quite well for so young a person:--
_I, your majesty's most dutiful subject, had rather lose my life in your
majesty's cause than in any man's else, and I hope it will not be long
ere you conquer France. Gloucester._
Another address from the same source, signed by all his boy-soldiers
and the various members of the household, ran thus: "We, your majesty's
subjects, will stand by you while we have a drop of blood." Such
proceedings on the part of the little duke convinced William III. that
the princess was bringing up her son as his partisan, and that at least
was gratifying.
He honored the festival given on the anniversary of Princess Anne's
birth with his presence, and witnessed the introduction at court of
the young duke, who appeared in a rich blue velvet coat. All the
button-holes were studded with diamonds, and each button was composed of
a superb brilliant, some of which had belonged to Queen Mary, and were
presented by the king to her sister after her death.
When the boy had been installed as Knight of the Garter, his majesty
had presented him with a jewel worth seven hundred pounds, which he wore
also on this occasion. His flowing white periwig did not detract from
the beauty of his clear bright complexion and soft blue eyes; and the
little duke was the centre of attraction, surrounded by a bevy of lords
and ladies, who flocked to her royal highness' drawing-room.
The king was very fond of his little nephew, and, indeed, {421}of all
children, as this anecdote goes to prove: He was waiting one day in
a private room for one of his secretaries, who was rather later than
usual, when a gentle tap was heard on the door. "Who is there?" asked
the king. "Lord Buck," was the reply; whereupon the king arose, opened
the door and beheld a little boy four years of age. It was young Lord
Buckhurst, son of the Lord High Chamberlain.
"And what does Lord Buck want?" asked William.
"I want you to be my horse; I have waited for you a long time."
With an amiable smile, his majesty took hold of the wagon, and dragged
the little noble up and down the long gallery until he was satisfied.
From the matter-of-fact way in which this favor was received by the
child, there was ample proof that King William was not on duty as horse
for the first time.
[[A.D. 1698.]] Up to this year the education of the Duke of Gloucester
had been left in his mother's charge, because he was by no means strong,
and it was not considered advisable to push him too fast. He had now
arrived at the age of eight, and like all other royal children he would
probably be given in charge to some great noble or clergyman. His mother
dreaded the idea of parting with the delicate child, whom she had reared
with so much difficulty, and was willing to make any sacrifice rather
than to do so. Parliament voted the enormous sum of fifty thousand
pounds per annum for the education and establishment of the Duke of
Gloucester, but the king had power to dispose of the child. This was
what alarmed the fond mother, for she knew that if he chose to exercise
this power his majesty could annoy her excessively. It was therefore
happiness to find that he only insisted on two points: one was to manage
to pay out as little of the fifty thousand pounds {422}per annum, as
possible; the other was that Dr. Burnet, Bishop of Salisbury, should
fill the post of preceptor. This appointment was by no means agreeable
to the princess, but the king was inexorable, and she was forced to
submit. The duke was to live at Windsor, and the bishop was to have ten
weeks of each year to attend to duties that would oblige him to give his
pupil a vacation. Strange to say, the Earl of Marlborough was appointed
chief governor to the young duke notwithstanding the king's former
hatred of him. But this is not so remarkable as it may at first
appear, if we consider that the majority of the council of nine were
Marlborough's friends, who knew his power and the influence he exercised
over the mind of the heiress to the throne. The appointment was
therefore popular with them, particularly as he was of their number.
Then again, instead of believing for a moment that in the event of his
death, Marlborough and Princess Anne would desire to recall King James
or his son, the king calculated that they would renounce any claim but
that of the Duke of Gloucester, over whose mind the earl would have
established an empire, and in whose interest he would betray the distant
heir. The appointment of Marlborough was eminently satisfactory to the
princess, and there were few alterations made in the list she sent of
other officers for her son's household.
Lady Marlborough continued in the Princess Anne's household, but
after her husband's lofty appointment she became somewhat arrogant and
overbearing. The princess could not help noticing this change, which
extended even to herself, and sometimes she would let fall a word or two
of complaint to Abigail Hill, an humble relation of Lady Marlborough, to
whom she was indebted for her position at court.
[[A.D. 1699.]] During the next year or two Princess {423}Anne continued
her court with unusual splendor, while the little duke studied so hard
that all his vivacity disappeared, and when he was ten years of age his
face had a worn look, old enough for a youth of seventeen at least, and
pitiful to behold.
We have said very little about the duke's father, for the simple reason
that he led an easy, luxurious sort of a life, inoffensive and void of
ambition. Somebody said of him:
"That, though he was not quite dead, he had to breathe hard to prevent
being buried, because nobody perceived any other sign of life in him."
Perhaps it would be well for mankind if other princes were as quiet;
certainly he spared himself a deal of trouble by not interfering with
public affairs.
We have seen that Bishop Burnet was appointed preceptor to the Duke
of Gloucester; he was at the same time almoner to her majesty, the
princess, and one of the most conceited men that ever lived. He usually
preached at St. James's, and although Queen Mary had declared that his
were "thundering long sermons," he could not comprehend why the ladies
at court failed to give him their undivided attention. It seems that the
women of the seventeenth century would cast sly glances at the beaux in
church, and examine the costumes of the belles just as they do in the
present one; but Bishop Burnet would not submit to such disrespect
towards his own sweet self. He wanted every eye fixed on him while he
preached; so, after making several complaints to Princess Anne, he at
last hit upon a remedy which met with her approval. It was to have the
pews where the ladies sat so barricaded with high railings that the
occupants could only see beyond them by raising their eyes, and as he
was the only high object when in the pulpit, they must look at him or at
no man. Of course this arrangement excited {424}indignation of the fair
damsels no less than of the courtiers, one of whom vented his wrath by
the composition of a ballad that he took good care should come under the
notice of the intermeddling bishop. It ran thus:--
"When Burnet perceived that the beautiful dames.
Who flocked to the chapel of holy St. James.
On their lovers alone their kind looks did bestow.
And smiled not at him when he bellowed below,
To the Princess he went,
With a pious intent,
This dangerous ill in the church to prevent.
'Oh, madam,' he said, ' our religion is lost,
If the ladies thus ogle the knights of the toast.
"'Your highness observes how I labor and sweat,
Their affections to raise and attention to get;
And sure when I preach, all the world will agree,
That their eyes and their ears should be pointed at me
But now I can find
No beauty so kind,
My parts to regard or my person to mind;
Nay, I scarce have the sight of one feminine face
But those of Old Oxford and ugly Arglass.
"'These practices, madam, my preaching disgrace.
Shall laymen enjoy the just rights of my place?
Then all may lament my condition so hard,
Who thrash in the pulpit without a reward.
Therefore pray condescend
Such disorders to end,
And to the ripe vineyard the laborers send,
To build up the seats that the beauties may see
The face of no brawling pretender but me.'
"The Princess by the man's importunity prest,
Though she laugh'd at his reasons allowed his request.
And now Britain's nymphs in a Protestant reign
Are locked up at prayers like the virgins in Spain."
[[A.D. 1700.]] The eleventh birthday of the Duke of Gloucester was
celebrated at Windsor with the usual rejoicings. The boy reviewed his
soldiers, received and made presents, fired his cannon at intervals
during the day, {425}and presided over a grand banquet in the evening.
His system was very much run down by the strain of hard study, and this
day of excitement proved too much for him. The following morning found
him with a sick headache and sore throat, and towards night he became
delirious. The family physician reduced the little duke's vitality still
further by bleeding him according to the custom of the times. He grew
worse, and there was great lamentation in the royal household because
the princess's quarrel with Dr. Radcliffe prevented his being summoned,
for everybody had confidence in his skill. At last a messenger was
dispatched with a humble request to the doctor to visit the little
sufferer. After a great deal of urging he consented, and pronounced
the disease scarlet fever. He asked who bled the duke. The physician in
attendance replied that he had done so. "Then you have destroyed him,
and you may finish him," said Radcliffe, "for I will not prescribe."
Of course the learned man was much censured for wilfully refusing to
save the child, but he knew only too well that all his efforts would
have been of no avail. Five days after his birthday festival the little
duke expired.
Lord Marlborough, who had gone to Althorpe, was summoned to the sick bed
of his youthful master, but arrived too late.
The bereaved mother watched beside her dying boy to the end, hoping
against hope; and when nothing remained but his lifeless body, she
arose, and with an expression of sad resignation on her countenance,
quietly left the room. Then her thoughts were directed towards the
father she had wronged, and she wrote him a letter filled with the most
penitent expressions, and telling him that she looked upon her cruel
loss as a blow from Heaven in punishment of her cruelty towards him.
Retribution had come at last! {426}At that moment, when the object
in whom all her hopes were centered lay cold in death, Princess Anne
yearned for the sympathy of the parent who had ever been most kind and
indulgent to her, and she immediately sent her letter to St. Germain by
express.
Lord Marlborough forwarded the sad news to King William, but his majesty
made no reply for three whole months. The reason for this neglect was
because Anne had written to her father, and the king found it out,
although it was managed, as she thought, very secretly. William had
always shown so much affection for his nephew that his failing to send
any message of condolence or sorrow was the more remarkable.
The little duke's remains lay in state in the suite of apartments he
had occupied, and afterwards they were removed to Westminster, to be
interred in Henry VII.'s Chapel. The English ambassador at the court of
France was placed in a very embarrassing position, because his sovereign
did not order him how to proceed with regard to the Duke of Gloucester's
death. The fact is William was in a fit of temper, possibly caused
by the sad event, and so cared not how he perplexed others. Besides,
although he had loved the dead boy, he despised the parents, and paid no
more respect to their feelings than if they had lost a favorite dog.
At last, after the expiration of two months, he ordered a fortnight's
mourning, which was very little. Three months after the death of the
little duke, King William condescended to write, not to the afflicted
parents, but to Lord Marlborough, and this is a copy of the remarkable
missive:--
"I do not think it necessary to employ many words in expressing my
surprise and grief at the death of the Duke of Gloucester. It is so
great a loss to me, as well as to all England, that it pierces my heart
with affliction."
{427}
[Illustration: 0433]
{429}The same post carried a peremptory order that all the salaries of
the duke's servants should be cut off from the day of his death.
[[A.D. 1701.]] Thus we see that the king's heart was not so pierced
with affliction as to prevent his having an eye to economy. It was even
suspected that it was the approach of pay-day that prompted him to write
at all; but the Princess Anne was so shocked at the king's meanness that
she resolved to pay the salaries of her dead boy's servants out of her
own purse rather than send them off at a moment's notice. She returned
to St. James's Palace towards the end of the year, bowed down with
desolation and sorrow.
The death of the Duke of Gloucester was not much lamented in the
political world, for his existence had been rather an obstacle to the
designs of the various parties; but to his mother, aside from her deep
sorrow, it proved an event of the utmost importance; for even in her
own household her position was altered, and she was not treated with the
same deference as before.
Lady Marlborough was the first person by whom the change was made
apparent, though she of all others had most reason to be grateful to
Princess Anne. She had gone with her husband to Althorpe, just a short
time before the little duke's death, to further a scheme that they
had made between them. King William's health was so poor that they had
reason to believe it would not be long before Anne would replace him
on the throne. When that should occur, it was argued that she would be
assisted in the government by certain statesmen, who would shrink from
any cooperation with them, so they planned a strong family alliance that
would greatly strengthen their influence. They were aided by the sly
politician, Sunderland, and by Lord Godolphin, whose only son had,
during the previous year, {430}married their eldest daughter. When this
marriage took place Princess Anne presented the bride with five thousand
pounds, and gave a similar sum to Lady Marlborough's younger daughter,
Anne Churchill, when she married Sunderland's son.
These two marriages formed the principal features in the Marlborough
scheme for their own advancement when the proper time should come. For
the purpose of doing away with formality when writing to her favorite,
it had been early agreed that the princess should merely be addressed as
Mrs. Morley, and Lady Marlborough as Mrs. Freeman, which brought them
to the same level. Since her bereavement Princess Anne had become more
humble, and Lady Marlborough more imperious. When the latter was absent
she received three or four notes a day, some of which were signed "your
poor, unfortunate, faithful Morley." But the indulgence and kindness
of the princess had only spoiled the woman, who was so puffed up by
prosperity as to render herself positively ridiculous. She even went so
far as to avert her face and turn up her nose when she had any slight
office to perform for her benefactress, as though there was something
about her person that produced disgust. In course of time the princess
began to notice what others had seen for a long while; but accident
revealed to her one day the extent to which the ungrateful creature
could go with her insults.
One afternoon when Princess Anne was at her toilet, she requested
Abigail Hill to fetch her a pair of gloves from the table in the
adjoining room. Miss Hill passed into the room designated, leaving the
door open behind her. There sat Lady Marlborough reading a letter.
Miss Hill soon discovered that she had, by mistake, put on her royal
highness' gloves, and gently called her attention to the fact. "My
goodness!" exclaimed Lady Marlborough, {431}"have I on anything that
has touched the odious hands of that disagreeable woman? Take them away
quickly," and she pulled off the gloves, which she threw violently to
the ground. Miss Hill picked them up without a word, and left the room
closing the door behind her. Lady Marlborough thus remained in ignorance
that her disgraceful speech had been overheard; but Abigail Hill saw
plainly that not a word of it had been lost on the princess, who never
forgot or forgave the disgust manifested by the woman on whom she had
lavished affection and favors. Fortunately, the princess had no other
attendant besides the one she had despatched for the gloves, so the
incident remained a secret for the time being. Lady Marlborough was
made to feel on several occasions that she had seriously offended the
princess, but was at a loss to know how or when. She could not ready
have felt the disgust she expressed, because Princess Anne was renowned
all over Europe for the beauty and delicacy of her hands and arms; but
perhaps it was envy.
Princess Anne had not taken off mourning for her son when news arrived
of the death of her father. This event did not cause her a great deal
of sorrow, nor did she think fit to take the slightest notice of the
request he made in his farewell letter to her, that when William should
die she would make way for her brother on the throne.
King William was at Loo, in Holland, when James II.'s message of
forgiveness was delivered to him, and he was so impressed by it that he
sat in moody silence the entire day. That was his way of showing that
he was painfully affected; but it did not remove the ill-feeling he felt
towards the dead king for refusing to permit him to adopt his son,--a
request he had made after the death of the Duke of Gloucester. Neither
did it prevent his issuing a {432}bill accusing the young Prince of
Wales, a boy of twelve, of high treason. But he put on mourning for his
uncle, and ordered his footmen and coaches to appear in black. All the
nobles and the court of England imitated him, and mourning became the
fashion.
His majesty returned to England, as usual, in the autumn, and left
the Earl of Marlborough in command of his military forces in Holland,
feeling certain, as he said, that the talents of that general would
enable him to continue in his stead should his death occur. And it did
not seem far off, for William had been seriously ill, the effects of
which had so reduced his already enfeebled frame that all who saw him
knew he was not long for this world. Nevertheless, he busied himself
with preparations for involving England in a war with France, the
object being to divide Spain into three parts, to be claimed by Austria,
Holland, and England. This was to prevent Louis XIV. from becoming too
powerful by his influence over his grandson, who was heir to the Spanish
throne.
It was no other than John Fenwick's sorrel pony that brought William's
warlike projects to a close. And this is how he did it: His majesty was
fond of the pretty animal, and rode on him daily while superintending
the excavation of a canal in Hampden Court grounds. It was on the
twenty-first of January that he was riding about as usual, when suddenly
the pony stuck one foot in a mole hill and fell, throwing his majesty
over on his right shoulder, and breaking his collar bone. Some workmen
assisted him to rise, and carried him to the palace, where the broken
bone was soon set. The accident might not have proved serious had not
William, with his usual obstinacy, insisted on driving to Kensington
that night. The jolting of the carriage displaced the fractured bone,
and he arrived in a state of exhaustion and suffering. The opera-
{433}
[Illustration: 0439]
tion {435}had to be repeated, but it was several days before the patient
could move. Even then his mind was filled with revenge, for he sent a
message to parliament urging them to lose no time in passing the
charge of high treason against little James Stuart, that had been under
consideration since the preceding January. The very last act of this
mighty monarch was the signing of this bill, to which he affixed his
stamp a few hours before his death.
On the first of March the royal sufferer was seized with cramps, but
improved sufficiently to be able to walk in the gallery of Kensington
Palace a few days later. Feeling fatigued from the exercise, he threw
himself on a lounge and fell asleep in front of an open window. Two
hours later he awoke with a chill, the precursor of death. Both the
Prince and Princess of Denmark made repeated efforts to see the dying
king, but to the very end he framed his lips into an emphatic "no!"
every time the request was made. No one was admitted to the sick-room
besides physicians and nurses, excepting the old favorites Bentinck, and
Keppel, Earl of Albemarle. The latter arrived from a mission to
Holland just before the king lost his speech, and gave his royal master
information of the progress of his preparations for the commencement of
war in the Low Countries. For the first time the dying warrior listened
to such details with cold indifference, and at their close merely
said: "I draw towards my end." Then handing Keppel the keys of his
writing-desk, he bade that favorite take possession of the twenty
thousand guineas it contained, and directed him to destroy all the
letters enclosed in a certain cabinet.
The next morning, when Bentinck entered the room, the king was
speechless but conscious. He took his old friend's hand and pressed it
to his heart for several minutes, {436}and then expired. After his death
a bracelet of Queen Mary's hair, tied with black ribbon, was found on
his left arm.
William III. was fifty-one years old, and had reigned thirteen years.
{437}