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LIVES OF THE
QUEENS @F ENGLAND,
jprom tfie Norman eCotiquest.
NOW FIRST PUBLISHED FBOM
OFFICIAL BECORDS & OTHER AUTHENTIC DOCUMENTS,
PRIVATE AS WELL AS PUBLIC.
BY
AGNES STRICKLAND.

" The treasures of antiquity laid up
In old liistoric rolls, I opened." Beaumont.

dFouitj^ Cttttton.
WITH ALL THE LATE IMPEO VEMENTS.
EMBELLISHED WITH
PORTRAITS OP EVERY QUEEN.
IN EIGHT VOLUMES.
VOL. VIL
LONDOlSr:
PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COLBURN,
BY HIS SUCCESSORS, HURST AND BLACKETT,
GREAT MAELBOEOUGH STEEET.
1854

PRINTED BT HARRISON AND SONS,
LONDON GAZETTE OVriCE, ST. MABTIN's LiNE.

CONTENTS

THE SEVENTH VOLUME.

MART II., QuEETI-EEGIfANT OE GrEEAT BbITAIN AND
Ieelaot), Consoet oe "William III.

ILLUSTRATIONS

THE SEVENTH VOLUME.

PORTRAIT OF MARY, WHEN PRINCESS OP ORANGE, engraved
by permission, from the Original by WissiUG-, in Her Majesty's
Collection at Hampton Court  Frontispiece'.
(Described page 143.)
MARY IN HER INFANCY, HER FATHER, AND PEPYS. Vignette Title.
(Described page 4. )
AUTOGRAPH OF MARY, WHEN PRINCESS OF ORANGE page 116
MARY II. WHEN QUEEN OF GREAT BRITAIN, after the
¦ Original by Vandebtaaut  191
(Described page 368.)

LIVES

OF

THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND.

MARY 11.1
QUEEN-REGNANT OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.

CHAPTER I.

Love-match of queen Mary's parents — Its unpopularity — Birth of lady Mary of
York, (queen Mary II.) — ^Nursery at Twickenham-palace — Fondness of her
father, the duke of York — Birth of lady Anne of York, (queen Anne) —
Maternal indulgence — 111 health of the lady Anne— Is sent to Prance — Visits
queen Henrietta Maria — French court-mourning — Education of the prin
cesses at Richmond — Their mother dies a Roman-catholic — ^Their father
professes the same faith — Their step-mother, Mary Beatrice of Modena — The
princesses Mary and Anne educated at Richmond-palace — Preceptor, tutors,
and chaplain — Introduction of the princesses to court — Confirmation of Mary
in the Church of England — Marriage projects for Mary — Arrival in England
of the prince of Orange, (William III.)— -As her suitor — Marriage deter
mined — Her agony of mind — Incidents of the marriage — Disinherited by
the birth of a brother — Illness of lady Anne vrith the smallpox — ^Fears o£
infection — Interview between the princess of Orange and Dr. Lake — Her
continual grief — Lady Anne's sick chamber — Danger — Departra'e of the
princess and prince of Orange — They land at Sheemess — ^Adventures at
Canterbury— Their first acquaintance with Dr, Tillotson — ^Voyage to Hol
land — The prince admires Elizabeth ViUiers— Reception in Holland —
Pageants and rejoicings.
The personal life of Mary II. is the least known of all
Enghsh queens-regnant. Long lapses of from seven to ten
years occur between the three political crises where her name
appears in the history of her era. Mary is only mentioned
therein at her marriage, her proclamation, and her death.
' For the purpose of preventing repetition, the events of the life of her sister
Anne, whilst she was princess, are interwoven with this biography.
VOL. VII. B

2 MARY II.
Thanks, however, to the memorials of three divines of our
church, being those of her tutor Dr. Lake, and of her
chaplains Dr. Hooper, dean of Canterbury, and Dr. Ken,
bishop of Bath and Wells, many interesting particulars of
Mary II. before she left England, and of the first seven years
of her married life in HoUand, are really extant. These
clergymen were successively domesticated with Mary for years
in her youth, and chiefly from their evidence, and as far as
possible in their very words, have these portentous chasms
in her biography been supphed.
Mary II. was the daughter of an Enghshman and an
Englishwoman, owing her existence to the romantic love-
match of James duke of York with her mother, Anne Hyde,
daughter of lord- chancellor Clarendon. The extraordinary
particulars of this marriage have been detailed in the biography
of Mary's royal grandmother, queen Henrietta Maria.' The
father of Mary had made great sacrifices in keeping his
phghted word to her mother. Besides the utter renunciatiou
of fortune and royal alliance, he displeased the lower and
middle classes of England, who have a peculiar dishke to see
persons raised much above their original station ; the prof
ligates of the court sneered exceedingly at the heir of three
crowns paying the least regard to the anguish of a woman,
while politicians of every party beheld with scornful astonish
ment so unprincely a phenomenon as disinterested affection.
All this contempt the second son of Charles I. thought fit to
brave, rather than break his trothplight with the woman his
heart had elected; neither could he endure the thought of
bringing shame and sorrow on the grey hairs of a faithful
friend like Clarendon.
The lady Mary of York, as she was called in early life, was
born at St. James's-palace, April 30, 1662, at a time when
pubUc attention was much occupied by the fetes and reioicings
for the arrival of the bride of her uncle, king Charles II.
Although the duke of York was heir-presumptive to the
throne of Great Britain, few persons attached any impor
tance to the existence of his daughter ; for the people looked
' See vol. V.

MARY XL 3
forward to heirs from the marriage of Charles II. with Catha-
rme of Braganza, and expected, moreover, that the claims
of the young princess would be soon superseded by those
of sons. She was named Mary in memory of her aimt the
princess of Orange, and of her ancestress, Mary queen of
Scots, and was baptized according to the rites of the church
of England in the chapel of St. James's-palace; her godfather
was her father's friend and kinsman, the celebrated prince
Rupert,' her godmothers were the duchesses of Ormonde and
Buckingham. Soon afterwards, she was taken from St.
James's to a nursery which was estabHshed for her in the
household of her illustrious grandfather, the earl of Clarendon,
at the ancient dower-palace of the queens of England at
Twickenham, a lease of which had been granted to him from
the crown.'' In the course of fifteen months, Mary's brother,
James duke of Cambridge, was born, an event which barred
her in her infancy from any very near proximity to the
succession of the crown.
The lady Mary was a beautiful and engaging child. She
was loved by the duke of York "with that absorbing passion
which is often felt by fathers for a first-born daughter.
Sometimes she was brought from her grandfather's house at
Twickenham to see her parents, and on these occasions the
duke of York could not spare her from his arms, even while
he transacted the naval affairs of his country as lord high-
admiral. Once, when the little lady Mary was scarcely two
years old, Pepys was witness of the duke of York's paternal
fondness for her, which he commemorates by one of his odd
notations, saying, " I was on business with the duke of York,
and with great pleasure saw him play with his little girl just
like an ordinary private father of a child."* It was at this
period of her infant life that a beautiful picture was painted
of the lady Mary, being a miniature in oUs, on board, of the
highest finish, representing her at full length, holding a black
rabbit in her arms.* The resemblance to her adult portraits
1 Life of Mary II.: 1795. Published by Daniel Dring, of the Harrow,
Fleet-street, near Chancery-lane.
2 Clarendon's Life. ' Pepys' Diary, vol. ii. p. 215, 8vo.
• General sir James Reynett, the governor of Jersey, obligingly permitted
B 2

4 MARY II.
is strikingly apparent. As a work of art, this little painting
is a gem of the first water, by the Flemish painter, Nechscher,
who was patronised by James duke of York, and painted
portraits of his infant children by his first consort, Anne
Hyde. Some idea may be formed of the design, as it is
introduced into the vignette of the present volume, which
illustrates the anecdote above so naively told by Pepys, of his
surprise at seeing the duke of York playing with his little
Mary "just like any other father."
Lady Mary of York, when but three years old, stood
sponsor for her younger sister, who was born Feb. 6, 1664 ;
the duchess of Monmouth was the other godmother: Shel
don, archbishop of Canterbury, was godfather to the infant,
who received her mother's name. She was afterwards queen-
regnant of Great Britain. The father of these sisters was
at this epoch the idol of the British nation. After he had
returned from his first great victory off Lowestoff and Sole-
bay in 1665, he found that the awful pestilence called ^ the
great Plague ' had extended its ravages from the metropolis
to the nursery of his childr^ at Twickenham, where several
of the servants of his father-in-law had recently Sc|Rred.'
The duke hurried his wife and infants to the purer air of the
north, and fixed his residence at York. From that city he
found it was easy to visit the fleet, which was cruising off
the north-east coast to watch the proceedings of the Dutch.
The duchess of York and her children lived in great splen
dour and happiness in the north, and remained there after
the duke was summoned by the king to the parliament,
which was forced to assemble that year at Oxford.
The health of the lady Anne of York was injured in her
infancy by the pernicious indulgence of her mother. The
only fault of the duchess was an inordinate love of eating
and the same propensity developed itself in both her daugh
ters. The duchess encouraged it in the little lady Anne
who used to sup with her on chocolate, and devour good
the author to see this porti'ait at his residence, the Banqueting-house, Hampton-
Court, and has since, through the mediation of his accomplished sister Miss
Reynett, allowed a drawing to be talcen from it.
' Lord Clarendon's Life, vol. il.

MARY II. 5
tilings, tiU she grew as round as a ball.'' Probably these
proceedings were unknown to the duke of York, who was
moderate, and even abstemious, at table.^ When the life
of the child was^ seriously in danger,, she was sent to the
coast of France to recover it. It is generally asserted that
the httle princess staid at Calais or Boulogne for about
eight months ; where she really went was kept a state secret,
on account, probably,, of the rehgious jealousy of the Eng
lish. Anne herself, at six years old, must have remembered
the circumstance, yet it certainly never transpired in her
time, or 'even in the reminiscences of her most intimate
confidante. The fact is, Anne of York was consigned to the
care of her royal grandmother, Henrietta Maria. After the
death of that queen at Colombe, her little English grand
daughter was transferred to St- Cloud, or the Palais-Royal,
and domesticated in the nursery of her aunt Henrietta
duchess of Orleans, for there she is found by the only per^
son who has ever noted her sojourn with her French kindred.
Thus queen Anne, once a familiar guest among the royal
family of France, had actually in her childhood played
about the knees of her great antagonist, Louis XIV..
Anne lost her other protectress, her father's sister, th«
beautiful Henrietta duchess of Orleans, who had taken her
under her own care on the death of queen Henrietta.
Without entering here into the discussion of whether the
fair Henrietta was poisoned by her husband, it is reason
able to conclude that, if such' had been the case, he would
scarcely have had sufficient quietude of mind to have
amused himself with dressing up Anne of York and his own
little daughters in the rigorous costume of coixrt-mourmng,
with long trains and the streaming crape veils, then indis
pensable for French mourning, in which the bereft children
sailed about his apartments at the Palais-Royal. Their
ridiculous appearance excited the spleen of la grande made
moiselle de Montpemier, who details the visit Anne of York
made to France, and the conversation which ensued between
» Duchess of Marlborough's Conduct.
' Roger Coke's Detection.

6 MARY II.
her and Louis Xl"V.' " The day after Louis XIV. and the
queen of France went to St. Cloud to perform the customary
ceremonial of aspergihg the body of Henrietta of England,
duchess of Orleans, I paid a visit to her daughter, the little
mademoiselle, at the Palais-Royal. I was dressed in my
mourning veil and mantle. I found that my young cousin
had with her the daughter of the duke of York, who had
been sent over to the queen of England, [Henrietta Maria,]
to, be treated by the French physicians for a complaint in
her eyes. After the death of the queen her grandmother,
she had remained with madame, [the duchess of Orleans,]
vnd now I found her with mademoiselle, the eldest princess
of Orleans. They were both very little, yet monsieur,
[Philippe duke of Orleans,] who delighted in all ceremonies,
had made them wear the usual mourning veils for adults,
which trailed behind them on the ground. I told the king
of this ridiculous mourning garb the next morning, and de
scribed to him the mantled worn by his niece, mademoiselle,
and the little English princess. 'Take care,' said Louis
XIV. ; 'if you rail at all this, my brother Orleans will never
forgive you.' " The lady Anne of York must have left Paris
and the palace of her uncle of Orleans in a few days after
the death of her aunt Henrietta, for her absence is limited
by her native historians to eight months.^ She had entirely
regained her health.
The remains of the old palace at Richmond, where queen
Elizabeth died, were put in repair for the residence of the
children of the duke of York while their education pro
ceeded. Lady Frances, the daughter of the earl of Suffolk
and wife to sir Edward Villiers, received the appointment of
governess to the princesses of York : she was given a lease
of Richmond-palace, and established herself there with her
charge, and with a numerous tribe of daughters of her own.*
Six girls, children of lady Villiers, were brought up Ihere
with the lady Mary and the lady Anne, future queens of
' Memoires de Mademoiselle de Montpensier. Anne was nearly related to
her, being daughter of her great-uncle, Gaston duke of Orleans.
^ Roger Coke's Detection.
' History of Surrey, (Richmond). Collins's Peerage.

MARY II. 7
Great Britain. Elizabeth Villiers, the eldest daughter of the
governess, afterwards became the bane of Mary's wedded
life, but she was thus, in the first dawn of existence, her
schoolfellow and companion, although four or five years older
than the princess. The whole of the ViUiers' sisterhood
clung through Hfe to places in the households of one or
other of the princesses; they formed a family compact of
formidable strength, whose energies were not always exer
cised for the benefit of their royal patronesses.
The duchess of York had acknowledged by letter to her
father, the earl of Clarendon, then in exile, that she was by
conviction a Roman-catholic, which added greatly to the
troubles of her venerable parent, who wrote her a long
letter on the superior purity of the reformed catholic church
of England, and exhorted her to conceal her partiality to
the Roman ritual, or her children would be taken from her,
and she would be debarred from having any concern in their
education. He likewise earnestly exhorted her husband
thus : —
" Your royal highness," wrote the great Clarendon,' "knows how far I have
always been from wishing the Roman-catholics to be persecuted, but I still less
wish it should ever be in their power to be able to persecute those who difter
from them, since we too well know how little moderation they would or could
use ; and if this^ [happens] which people so much talk of, (I hope without ground,)
it might very probably raise a greater storm against the Roman-catholics 
I have written to your duchess [his ,own daughter] with all the freedom and
affection of a troubled and perplexed father, and do most humbly beseech your
royal highness by yoxir authority to rescue her from bringing a mischief on you
and on herself that can never be repaired. I do think it worth your while to
remove and dispel these reproaches (how false soever) by better evidence."
The duchess of York was at that time drooping into the
grave; she never had been well since the birth, in 1666, of
her son Edgar, who survived her about a year. The duke of
York had revived this Saxon name in the royal family in
remembrance of Edgar king of Scotland, the son of St.
Margaret and Malcolm Canmore; he likewise wished to
recall the memory of Edgar the Great, who styled himself
monarch of the British seas.* In her last moments, the
1 Harleian, No. 6854. It seems copied in James's own hand.
' James's intention of professing himself a Roman-catholic.
3 Autograph Memoirs of James II. Macpherson's Appendix, vol. i. p. 58.

8 MARY n.
duchess of York received the sacrament according to the
rites of the Roman church, with her husband and a confiden
tial gentleman of his, M. Dupuy, and a lady of her bed
chamber of the same reUgion, lady Cranmer. It is singular
that the second appearance of the name of Cranmer in his
tory should be in such a scene. Before this secret congre
gation the duchess of York renounced the religion of her
youth, and was prepared for death by father Hunt, a Fran
ciscan. "She prepared to die," says her husband,' "with
the greatest devotion and resignation. Her sole request to,
me was, that I would not leave her till she expired, without
any of her old friends of the church of England came ; and
then that I would go and tell them she had communicated
with the .church of Rome, that she might not be disturbed
with controversy." Soon after, bishop Blandford came, and
the duke left the bedside of his dying partner, and explained
to the bishop that she had conformed to the Roman-catholic
church. The bishop promised not to dispute with her, but to
read to her a pious exhortation, in which a Christian of either
church might join. The duke permitted this, and led him to
his consort, who joined in prayer with him. Shortly after
wards she expired in the arms of her husband, at the palace
of St. James, March 31st, 1671.^ The duchess of York was
interred with the greatest solemnity in Henry VII.'s chapel,
most of the nobility attending her obsequies. Her obituary
is thus oddly discussed by a biographer of her husband.*
" She was a lady of great virtue in the main. It was her
misfortune, rather than any crime, that she had an extraordi
nary stomach; but much more than that, that she forsook
the true religion."
No mention is made of any attendance of her daughters
by the bedside of the dying duchess of York. The duke of
> Memoirs of James IL, edited by the rev. Stanier Clark.
2 Bishop Blandford has been greatly blamed for his liberality, but he acted
rightly; for, by seeing and praying mth the dying duchess of York, he satisfied
himself that the religion she professed on her death-bed was not imposed upon
her through any species of coercion, but was adopted by her own choice Can
there be any doubt, from the above-quoted letter of Clarendon, that Anne Hyde
led her husband into his new religion ? "^
» Life of James II. : 1702, p. 15.

MARY n. 9
York had been very iU since the death of his sister, the
duchess of Orleans : he believed himself to be in a decline,
and had passed the summer, with the duchess and their
children, at Richmond. The mysterious rites of the Roman-
catholic communion round the death-bed of the mother had,
perhaps, prevented her from seeing the little princesses and
their train of prying attendants. The lady Mary and the
lady Anne were, when they lost their mother, the one nine
and the other sis years old; the duchess likewise left a
baby only six weeks old, lady Catharine, and her eldest
surviving son, duke Edgar, the heir of England, of the age
of five years : both these little ones died in the ensuing
twelvemonth. The death of the duchess of York was the
signal for the friends of the duke to importune him to marry
again. He replied, " that he should obey his brother if it
was thought absolutely needful, but should take no steps on
his own account towards marriage.'f The approximation of
the daughters of the duke to the British throne, even after
the death of their brother Edgar duke of Cambridge, was
by no means considered in an important light, because the
marriage of their father with some young princess was anti
cipated. Great troubles, nevertheless, seemed to surround
the future prospects of James, for, soon after the death of
their mother, he was suspected of being a convert to the
religion she died in. All his services in naval government,
his inventions, his merits as a founder of colonies, and his
victories won in person as an admiral, could not moderate
the fierce abhorrence with which he was then pursued. His
marriage with a Roman-catholic princess, which took place
rather more than two years afterwards, completed his unpo
pularity. Mary Beatrice of Modena, the new duchess of
York, was but four years older than the lady Mary of York.
When the duke of York went to Richmond-palace, and
announced his marriage to his daughters, he added, " I have
provided you a playfellow." '
* The education of the lady Mary and of the lady Anne was,
at this time, taken from their father's control by their uncle,
> Letters of lady Rachel BusaelL

ID MARY II.
Charles II. Alarmed by his brother's bias to the Roman-
catholic religion, the king strove to counteract the injury
that was likely to accrue to his family, by choosing for them
a preceptor who had made himself remarkable by his attacks
on popery. This was Henry Compton, bishop of London,
who had forsaken the profession of a soldier and assumed
the clergyman's gown at the age of thirty. The great loy
alty of his family procured him rapid advancement in the
church. The tendency of the duke of York to the Roman-
catholic tenets had been suspected by the world, and Henry
Compton, by outdoing every other bishop in his violence
against him, not only atoned for his own want of education
in the minds of his countrymen, but gave him dominion
over the children of the man he hated.' A feud, in fact, sub
sisted between the house of Compton and the duke of York,
on account of the happiness of one of the bishop's brothers
having been seriously compromised by the preference Anne
Hyde gave to the duke.^
As to the ofiice of preceptor, bishop Henry Compton pos
sessing far less learning than soldiers of rank in general, it
was not very Hkely that the princesses educated under his
care would rival the daughters or nieces of Henry VIII. in
their attainments. The lady Mary and the lady Anne either
studied or let it alone, just as suited their inclinations. It
suited those of the lady Anne to let it alone, for she grew up
in a state of utter ignorance. There are few housemaids at
the present day whose progress in the common business of
reading and writing is not more respectable. Her spelhng is
not in the antiquated style of the seventeenth century, but in
that style lashed by her contemporary Swift as pecuhar to
the ladies of his day. The construction of her letters and
notes is vague and vulgar, as wiU be seen hereafter. The
mind of the elder princess was of a much higher cast, for the
lady Mary had been long under the paternal care. Her
father, the dulce of York, and her mother, Anne Hyde, both
possessed literary abilities,* and her grandfather, lord Claren-
» Dr. Lake's MS. ' Memoirs of the Earl of Peterborough.
» Life of Queen Mary II. : 1695.

MARY ir. II
don, with whom her childhood was domesticated, takes high
rank among the classics of his country. The French tutor
of the princesses was Peter de Laine : he has left honourable
testimony to the docility and application of the lady Mary,
his elder pupil. He declares that she was a perfect mistress
of the French language, and that all those who had been
honoured with any share in her education found their la
bours very light, as she possessed aptitude and faithfulness
of memory, and ever showed obliging readiness in complying
with their advice. His observation regarding her knowledge
of French is correct ; her French notes are far superior in
diction to her English letters, although in these latter very
charming passages occasionally occur. Mary's instructors in
drawing were two noted little people, being master and mis
tress Gibson, the married dwarfs of her grandmother, queen
Henrietta Maria, whose wedding is so playfully celebrated
by Waller.' The Gibsons Hkewise taught the lady Anne to
draw. It has been said that these priiicesses had that taste
for the fine arts which seems inherent to every individual
of the house of Stuart, but the miserable decadence of paint
ing in their reigns does not corroborate such praise.
From the time of their mother's death, the ladies Mary
and Anne were domesticated at Richmond-palace with their
governess, lady Frances ViUiers, her daughters, and with their
assistant-tutors and chaplains. Dr. Lake and Dr. Doughty,
whose oflices appear to have been limited to religious instruc
tion. If these divines were not employed in imparting the
worldly learning they possessed to their pupils, they at least
did their utmost to imbue their minds with a strong bias
towards the ritual of the church of England, according to
its practical discipliue in the seventeenth century. Every
feast, fast, or saint's day in the Common Prayer-book was care
fully observed, and Lent kept with catholic rigidity. Lady
I Grainger's Biography, vol. iv. p. 119; to which we must add that the dwarfs
of Charles l.'s court, contrary to custom, were good for something. Gibson and
his vrife were among the best English-born artists of their era. He was just
three feet six mches in height; she was a dwarfess of the same proportion. This
Uttle couple had nine good-sized children, and havmg weathered the storms of
civil war, lived happily together to old age. Little mistress Gibson was nearly
a oentegenarian when she died.

13 MART II.
Mary was greatly beloved by the clergy of the old school
of English divinity before she left England. There was one
day in the year, which the whole family of the duke of York
always observed as one of deep sorrow: on the 30th of
January, he and his children and his household assumed the
garb of funereal black ; they passed the day in fasting and
tears, in prayers and mourning, in remembrance of the
death of Charles I.'
The lady Mary of York was devotedly attached to a young
lady who had been her playmate in infancy, Anne Trelawney.
The lady Anne likewise had a playfellow, for whom she
formed an affection so strong, that it powerfully influenced
her fiiture destiny. The name of this girl was Sarah Jen
nings ; her elder sister, Frances, had been one of the maids
of honour of Anne duchess of York, and had married a
cadet of the noble house of Hamilton. If the assertion of
Sarah herself may be believed, her father was the son of an
impoverished cavalier-baronet, and therefore a gentleman;
yet her nearest female relative on the father's side was
of the rank of a servant maid.^ It is a mystery who first
established the fair Frances Jennings at court ; as for the
younger sister, Sarah, she was introduced to her highness
the little lady Anne of York by Mrs. CornwaUis,* the best
beloved lady of that princess, and, according to manuscript
authority, her relative. The mother of Frances and Sarah
Jennings was possessed of an estate sufficiently large, at
Sundridge, near St. Albans, to make her daughters looked
upon as co-heiresses; her name is always mentioned with
peculiar disrespect, when it occurs in the gossiping memoirs
of that day.^ Sarah herself, when taunting her descendants
' Despatches of D'Ava,nx, ambassador from France to Holland, corroborated
by Pepys, who mentions " that his master the duke of York declined all business
or pleasure on that day." This fact is likewise fully confirmed by the Diary of
Henry earl of Clarendon, uncle tO' the princesses Mary and Anne.
' Abigail Hill. See the Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough.
' Lord Dartmouth; Notes to Burnet's Own Times, vol. i. p. 89. "Mrs.
Cicely CornwaUis was a Mnswoman of queen Anne, and afterwards became supe
rior of the Benedictine convent at Hammersmith,— the present convent, then
protected by Catharine of Braganza." — Faulkner's Hammersmith, p. 242.
* Some stigma connected with fortune-telling and divination was attached to
the mother of these fortunate beauties, Frances and Sarah Jennings. Count

MARY II. 13
in after-life, affirms " that she raised them out of the dirt."
She was born at a small house at Holywell, near St. Albans,
on the very day of Charles II.'s restoratioft, 1660; conse
quently she was four years older than the lady Anne of
York. By her own account, she used to play with her
highness and amuse her in her infancy, and thus fixed an
empire over her mind from childhood. The princess Mary
once told Sarah Churchill' a little anecdote of their girlhood,
which they both agreed was illustrative of the lady Anne's
character. The princesses were, in the days of their tute
lage, walking together in Richmond-park, when a dispute
arose between them whether an object they beheld at a
great distance was a man or a tree, — the lady Mary being
of the former opinion, the lady Anne of the latter. At last
they came nearer, and lady Mary, supposing her sister must
be convinced it was according to her view, cried out, " Now,
Anne, you must be certain what the object is.'' But lady
Anne turned away, and persisting in what she had once
declared, cried, "No, sister; I stiU think it is a tree." The
anecdote was told by Sarah Churchill long years afterwards,
for the purpose of depreciating the character of her royal
friend, as an instance of imbecile obstinacy, that refused
acknowledgment of error on conviction ; but, after all, can
dour might suggest that the focus of vision in one sister
had more extensive range than in that of the other, — Mary
being long-sighted, and Anne near-sighted. Indeed, the state
of suffering from ophthalmia which the lady Anne endured
in her childhood, gives probabiHty to the more charitable
supposition. The first introduction of the royal sisters to court was by
their performance of a ballet, written for them by the poet
Anthony Hamilton, whilst doing justice to the virtues and goodness of her elder
daughter Frances, who had married into his own illustrious house, notices that
" she did not learn her good conduct of her mother," and that this woman was
not allowed to approach the court on account of her infamous character, although
she had laid Charles II. under some mysterious obligation. As to the father of
Frances and Sarah Jennings, no trace can be found of him in history, without
he is the same major Jennings whose woftd story is attested in Sahnon's Exa
mination of Burnet's History, p. 533.
> Coxe MSS., vol. xlv. folios 90-92 : inedited letter of the duchess of Marlbo
rough to sir David Hamilton.

14 MARY II.
Crowne, called Calista, or the Chaste Nymph, acted Decem
ber 2, 1674. While they were in course of rehearsal for this
performance, Mrs. Betterton, the principal actress at the
king's theatre, was permitted to train and instruct them in
carriage and utterance.' Although such an instructress was
not very desirable for girls of the age of the lady Mary and
the lady Anne, they derived from her lessons the important
accomplishment for which both were distinguished when
queens, of pronouncing answers to addresses or speeches
from the throne in a distinct and clear voice, with sweetness
of intonation and grace of enunciation. The ballet was
remarkable for the future historical note of the performers.
The lady Mary of York took the part of the heroine, CaHsta;
her sister the lady Anne, that of Nyphe; while Sarah Jen
nings (afterwards duchess of Marlborough) acted Mercury;
lady Harriet Wentworth (whose name was afterwards so
lamentably connected with that of the duke of Monmouth)
performed Jupiter. Monmouth himself danced in the ballet.
Henrietta Blague,^ a beautiful and virtuous maid of honour,
afterwards the wife of lord Godolphin, (the friend of Evelyn,)
performed the part of Diana, in a dress covered with stars
of splendid diamonds. The epilogue was written by Dryden,
and addressed to Charles II. In the course of it, he thus
compliments the royal sisters : —
" Two glorious nymphs of your own godlike line.
Whose morning rays like noontide strike and shine,
¦Whom you to suppliant raonarchs shall dispose.
To bind your friends, and to disarm your foes,"'
The lady Aime of York soon after acted Semandra in Lee's
Mithridate: it was a part by no means advantageous to be
studied by the young princess. Her grandmother, Henrietta
' Colley Gibber's Apology. It is said that queen Mary allowed this actress
a pension during her reign.
2 This young lady had the misfortune to lose a diamond worth 801. belonging
to the countess of Suffolk, which the duke of York (seeing her distress) very
kindly made good. — Evelyn's Diary.
' Life of Dryden, by sir Walter Scott, who, mentioning the verbal mistake
by which Merrick quoted the line —
" 'Whom you to swpplant monarchs shall dbpose,"
says, "that as the glorious nymphs supplanted their father, the blunder proved
an emendation on the original."

MARY II. 13
Maria, and her ancestress, Anne of Denmark, were more
fortunate in the beautiful masques written for them by Ben
Jonson, DanieU, and Fletcher. The impassioned Hnes of
Lee, in his high-flown tragedies, had been more justly hable
to the censures of master Prynne's furious pen. Mrs., Bet
terton instructed the princess in the part of Semandra, and
her husband taught the young noblemen who took parts in
the play. Anne, after she ascended the throne, aUowed Mrs.
Betterton a pension of lOOZ. per annum, in gratitude for the
services she rendered her in the art of elocution.' Compton,
bishop of London, thought that confirmation according to
the church of England, preparatory to the first communion,
was quite as needful to his young charges as this early in
troduction to the great world and the pomps and vanities
thereof. He signified the same to the duke of York, and
asked his permission to confirm the lady Mary when she was
fourteen. The duke repUed, "The reason I have not instructed
my daughters in my religion is, because they would have
been taken from me; therefore, as I cannot communicate
with them myseK, I am against their receiving."^ He, how
ever, desired the bishop " to tell the king his brother what
had passed, and to obey his orders." The king ordered his
eldest niece to be confirmed, which was done by the bishop
their preceptor in state, at WhitehaU chapel,* to the great
satisfaction of the people of England, who were naturaUy
alarmed regarding the rehgious tendencies of the princesses.
Both the royal sisters possessed attractions of person,
though of a very different character. The lady Mary of
York was in person a Stuart; she was taU, slender, and
graceful, with a clear complexion, almond-shaped dark eyes,
dark hair, and an elegant outUne of features. The lady
Anne of York resembled the Hydes, and had the round face
and full form of her mother and the lord chanceUor Claren
don. In her youth, she was a pretty rosy Hebe ; her hair a
dark chestnut-brown, her complexion sanguine and ruddy,
' Langhome's Drama, p. 2, edition 1691.
2 Autograph Memoirs of James II.
» Roger Coke's Detection. The chapel belongmg to 'Whitehall-palace,
destroyed by fire.

16 MARY n.
her face round and comely, her features strong but regular.
The only blemish in her face arose from a defluxion, which
had faUen on her eyes in her childhood: it had contracted the
lids, and given a cloudiness to her countenance. Her bones
were very smaU, her hands and arms most beautiful. She
had a good ear for music, and performed weU on the guitar,'
an instrument much in vogue in the reign of her uncle,
Charles II. The disease which had injured her eyes, seems
to have given the lady Anne a full immunity from the ne
cessity of acquiring knowledge: she never willingly opened
a book, but was an early proficient at cards and gossiping.
Sarah Jennings had been settled in some office suitable for a
young girl in the court of the young duchess of York, and
was inseparable from the lady Anne.*
King Charles II. thought proper to introduce his nieces
to the city of London, and took them in state, with his
queen and their father, to dine at GuildhaU at the lord
mayor's feast, 1675. They were at this time completely out,
or introduced into public life, and the Ul effect of such intro
duction began to show itself in the conduct of lady Mary.
Like her sister Anne, she became a constant card-player,
and not content with devoting her evenings in the week-days
to this diversion, she played at cards on the Sabbath. Her
tutor. Dr. Lake, being in her closet with her, led the conver
sation to this subject, which gave him pain, and he was,
moreover, apprehensive lest it should offend the people.
Lady Mary asked him " what he thought of it ?" His an
swer will be thought, in these times, far too lenient. "I
told her," he says, " I could not say it was sin to do so,
but it was not expedient ; and I advised her highness not to
do it, for fear of giving offence. Nor did she play at cards
on Sunday nights," he adds, " while she continued in Eng-
land."* Her tutor had not denounced the detestable habit
of gambling on Sabbath nights in terms sufficiently strong
to prevent a relapse, for he afterwards deplored piteously
• Tindal's Continuation of Rapin, p. 870.
' Conduct of Sarah, duchess of Marlborough.
' Dr. Lake's Diary, January 9th, 1677, in manuscript; for the use of which
we have to renew our acknowledgments to G. P. Eliot, esq.

MARY n. 17
that the lady Mary renewed her Sunday card-parties in Hol
land. It was a noxious sin, and he ought plainly to have
told her so. He could have done his duty to his pupil with
out having the fear of royalty before his eyes, for neither the
king nor the duke of York, her father, was addicted to gam
bling.' Most likely Dr. Lake was afraid of the ladies about
the princesses, for the English court, since the time of Henry
VIII., had been infamous for the devotion of both sexes to
that vice. The lady Anne of York is described by her com
panion, Sarah Jennings, (when, in after life, she was duchess
of Marlborough,) as a card-playing automaton, and this
vile manner of passing her Sabbath evenings proves that
the same corruption had polluted the mind of her superior
sister. When the lady Mary attained her fifteenth year, projects
for her marriage began to agitate the thoughts of her father
and the councils of her uncle. The duke of York hoped to
give her to the dauphin, son of his friend and kinsman Louis
XIV. Charles II. and the people of England destined her
hand to her first cousin, WUliam Henry prince of Orange,
son of the late stadtholder WilUam II. , and Mary, eldest
daughter of Charles I. The disastrous circumstances which
rendered this prince fatherless before he was bom, have been
mentioned in the life of his grandmother, queen Henrietta
Maria, WilUam of Orange (afterwards William III., elected
king of Great Britain) came prematurely into this world,
November 4, 1650, in the first hours of his mother's excessive
anguish for the loss of her husband. She was surrounded by
the deepest symbols of woe, for the room in which WilUam
was bom was hung with black ; the cradle that was to receive
him was black, even to the rockers. At the moment of his
birth, all the candles suddenly went out, and the room was
left in the most profound darkness. Such was the description
of one Mrs, Tanner, the princess of Orange's sayefemme, who
added the following marveUous tale : " that she plainly saw
three circles of light over the new-bom prince's head, which
she supposed meant the three crowns which he afterwards ob-
' Memoirs of Sheffield duke of Buckingham,
VOL. VII. C

18 MARY n.
tained.'" No jealousy was felt on account of this prediction
by his uncles, the expatiiated heirs of Great Britain. James
duke of York mentions, in his memoirs, the posthumous
birth of his nephew as a consolation for the grief he felt for
the loss of the child's father. The infant WilUam of Orange
was consigned to the care of Catharine lady Stanhope, who
had accompanied queen Henrietta Maria to HoUand in the
capacity of governess to the princess-royal, his mother. It
was in lady Stanhope's apartments^ in the Palace in the
Wood, at the Hague, that young WilUam was reared, and
nursed during his sickly childhood tiU he was ten years old.
In after-life he spoke of her as his earUest friend. Her son,
PhUip earl of Chesterfield, was his playfeUow. The prince
had an EngUsh tutor, the rev. Mr. Hawtayne.*
More than one dangerous accident befeU the Orange
prince in his infancy. " You wiU hear," wrote his mother's
aunt, the queen of Bohemia,* "what great peril my Uttle
nephew escaped yesterday, on the bridge at the princess of
Orange's house; but, God be thanked, there was no hurt,
only the coach broken. I took him into my coach, and
brought him home." At the foUowing Christmas, the queen
of Bohemia wrote again, January 10, 1654, " Yesterday was
the naming of prince WUUam's^ child. I was invited to the
supper, and my niece the princess of Orange. The Uttle
prince of Orange her son, and prince Maurice, were the
gossips. The States-General— I mean their deputies, the
council of state, and myself and Louise, were the guests.
My Uttle nephew, the prince of Orange, was at the supper,
and sat verie stiU aU the time : those States that were there
were verie much taken with him." Such praiseworthy Dutch
gravity in a baby of two years old was, it seems, very atti-ac-
tive to their high mightinesses the States-deputies. These
» Birch MS., 4460, Pint. Sampson Diary, written 1698, p. 71.
' Letters of Philip earl of Chesterfield.
* MS. Papers and entries in a large family Bible, in possession of the repre
sentative of that gentleman, C. S. Hawtayne, esq., rear-admiral.
* Letters of the Queen of Bohemia. Evelyn's Works, vol. iv. p. 144;. and
Memoirs of Philip, second earl of Chesterfield, p. 47.
> Ibid., p. 159, prince WUliam of Nassau-Dietz, who had married the Uttle
prince's aunt, Agnes Albertine.

MARY II. 19
affectionate mynheers were of the minority in the senate
belonging to the Orange party. Notwithstanding the occa
sional visits of the deputies of the Dutch state, the prospects
of the infant WiUiam were not very briUiant in his native
land, for the repubUcan party abolished the office of stadt
holder whilst he was yet rocked in his sable cradle. It is
true that the stadtholdership was elective, but it had been
held from father to son since WilUam I. had broken the
cruel yoke of Spain from the necks of the Hollanders. The
infant representative of this hero was therefore reduced to
the patrimony derived from the Dutch magnate of Nassau,
who had married a former princess of Orange, expatiiated
from her beautiful patrimony in the south of France. A
powerful party in HoUand still looked with deep interest on
the last scion of their great deUverer, WiUiam, but they were,
Uke his family, forced to remain oppressed and silent under
the government of the repubUcan De Witt, while England
was under the sway of his aUy, CromweU, The young prince
of Orange had no guardian or protector but his mother,
Mary of England, and his grandmother, the widow of Henry
Frederic, prince of Orange ; who resided in the Old Court,
or dower-palace, about two nules from the ancient state-
palace of the Hague,
When WilUam of Orange was a boy of eight or nine years
old, he still inhabited his mother's Palace of the Wood at the
Hague : he passed his days in her saloons with his governess,
lady Stanhope, or playing with the maids of honour in the
ante-chamber. A droll scene, in which he participated, is
related by EUzabeth Charlotte, princess-palatine, afterwards
duchess of Orleans, The queen of Bohemia, her grand
mother,' with whom she was staying at the Hague, sum
moned her one day to pay a state visit to the princess of
Orange and her son. The princess Sophia,^ who Uved then
with the queen of Bohemia, her mother, (not in the most
prosperous circumstances, as she had made a love-match with
' Elizabeth Charlotte was the only daughter of Charles Louis, eldest sou of
the queen of Bohemia, daughter of our James I.
'' The mother of George I. elector of Hanover, afterwards (as her represen
tative) George I. king of Great Britain.
c3

30 MARY II.
a younger brother of the house of Hanover,) took upon her
self to prepare her little niece for her presentation to the
princess of Orange, by saying, " Lisette, [Elizabeth,] take
care that you are not as giddy as usual. Follow the queen,
your grandmother, step by step; and at her departure, do
not let her have to wait for you," This exhortation was not
needless, for, by her own account, a more uncouth little
savage than the high and mighty princess Elizabeth Char
lotte was never seen in a courtly drawing-room. She replied,
" Oh, aunt ! I mean to conduct myself very sagely," The
princess of Orange was quite unknown to her, but she was
on the most familiar terms with the young prince, William
of Orange, with whom she had often played at the house of
the queen of Bohemia, Before this pair of little cousins
adjourned to renew their usual gambols, the young princess
Elizabeth Charlotte did nothing but stare in the face of the
princess of Orange ; and as she could obtain no answer to
her repeated questions of "Who is that woman?" she at last
pointed to her, and bawled to the young prince of Orange,
" Tell me, pray, who is that woman with the furious long
nose?" WilUam burst out laughing, and with impish glee
replied, " That is my mother, the princess-royal." ' Anne
Hyde, one of the ladies of the princess, seeing the unfor
tunate Uttle guest look greatly alarmed at the blunder she
had committed, very good-naturedly came forward, and led
her and the young prince of Orange into the bedchamber
of his mother. Here a most notable game of romps com
menced between WilUam and his cousin, who, before she
began to play, entreated her kind conductress, mistress Anne
Hyde,' to call her in time, when the queen, her grandmother,
was about to depart. " We played at all sorts of games,"
continues EUzabeth Charlotte, " and the time flew very fast.
' The mother of William III. chose to retain the title of her birth-rnnlc in
preference to her husband's title.
2 Elizabeth Choi-lotte spells the name Hcyde, but it is plain that this amiable
maid of honour who took pity on the gaucherie of the young princess, was the
daughter of Clarendon, the future wife of James dulce of York, and the mother
of two queens-regnant of Great Britain; for she was at that time in the service
of the princess of Orange, or, as that princess chose to ho called, princess-rovul of
Great Britain. ^

MARY II. 21
WiUiam of Orange and I were rolling ourselves up in a
Turkey carpet when I was summoned. Without losing an
instant, up I jumped, and rushed into the saloon. The queen
of Bohemia was already in the ante-chamber. I had no time
to lose : I twitched the princess-royal very hard by the robe
to draw her attention, then sprang before her, and having
made her a very odd curtsy, I darted after the queen, my
grandmother, whom I followed, step by step, to her coach,
leaving every one in the presence-chamber in a roar of laugh
ter, I knew not wherefore."
The death of the princess of Orange with the smaUpox, in
England, has already been mentioned ; her young son was
left an orphan at nine years of age, with no better protector
than his grandmother, the dowager of Henry Frederic. The
hopes of the young prince, of any thing like restoration to
rank among the sovereign-princes of Europe, were dark and
distant : all rested on the good-will and affection of his
uncles in England. The princess of Orange had solemnly
left her orphan son to the guardianship of her brother king
Charles. Several letters exist in the State-Paper office,
written in a round boyish hand, from William, confirming
thjs choice, and entreating the fatherly protection of his
royal uncles. The old princess-dowager, Wilhelmina, has
been praised for the tone of education she gave her grandson.
He was in his youth economical, being nearly destitute of
money; and he was abstinent from all expensive indulgences.
He wrote an extraordinary hand of the ItaUan class, of
enormously large dimensions; his French letters, though
brief, are worded with an elegance, and courtesy which formed
a contrast to the rudeness of his manners. He was a daUy
sufferer from iU-health, having, from his infancy, struggled
with a cruel asthma, yet all his thoughts were set on war,
and aU his exercises tended to it. Notwithstanding his di
minutive and weak form, which was not free from deformity,
he rode well, and looked better on horseback than in any
other position. He was a Unguist by nature, not by study,
and spoke several languages inteUigibly. His earnest desire
to regain his rank prompted him to centre all his studies in

22 MART II..
the art of war, because it was the office of the stadtholder to
lead the army of Holland.
The prince of Orange spent the winter of 1670 in a
friendly visit at the court of England, where he was received-
by his uncles with the utmost kindness ; and it is said, that
they then and there concerted with him some plans, which
led to his subsequent restoration to the stadtholdership of
HoUand. WiUiam was nineteen, small and weak, and rather
deformed. He seldom indulged ia wine, but drank ale, or
some schnaps of his native HoUands gin : he regularly went
to bed at ten o'clock. Such a course of life was viewed
invidiously by the riotous courtiers of Charles IL, and they
wickedly conspired to entice the phlegmatic prince into
drinking a quantity of champagne, which flew to his head,
and made him more mad and mischievous than even Buck
ingham himself, who was at the head of the joke. Nothing
could restrain the Orange prince from saUying out and
breaking the windows of the apartments of the maids of
honour, and he would have committed farther outrages, if
his wicked tempters had not seized him by the wrists and
ankles, and carried him struggUng and raging to his apart
ments. They exulted much in this outbreak of a quiet and
weU-behaved prince, but the triumph was a sorry one at the
best. Sir John Reresby, who relates the anecdote,' declares,
" that such an exertion of spirit was likely to recommend the
prince to the lady Mary :" it was certainly more likely to
frighten a child of her age. At that time he was considered
as the future spouse of his young cousin. The prince left
England in February, 1670.
The princess Elizabeth Charlotte declares, in her memoirs,
"that she should not have objected to marry her cousin,
WiUiam of Orange." Probably he was not so lovingly dis
posed towards his eccentric playfeUow, for notwithstanding
his own want of personal comeliness, this warlike modicum
of humanity was vastly particular regarding the beauty,
meekness, piety, and stately height of the lady to whom he
aspired. None of these particulars were very pre-eminent in
• Memoirs of Sir John Reresby.

MARY n. 23
his early playfellow, who had, instead, wit at will, and that
species of merry mischief called espiifflerie, sufficient to have
governed him, and aU his heavy Dutchmen to boot. She
had, however, a different destiny' as the mother of the
second royal line of Bourbon, and William was left to fulfil
the intention of his mother's family, by reserving his hand
for a daughter of England.
Previously to this event, the massacre of the De Witts
occurred, — ^the pretence for which outrage was, that De
Ruart of Putten, the elder brother, the pensionary or chief
civil magistrate of the repubUc, had hired an apothecary to
poison the prince of Orange ;' the mob, infuriated by this
delusion, tore the two unfortunate brothers to pieces, with
circumstances of horror not to be penned here. Such was
the leading event that ushered the prince of Orange into
political Ufe. Whether William was guilty of conspiring the
deaths of these his opponents, remains a mystery, but his
enemies certainly invented a term of reproach derived from
their murder; for whensoever he obtained the ends of his
ambition by the outcry of a mob, it was said that the prince
of Orange had " De Witted" his opponents,' Be that as it
may, the De Witts, the sturdy upholders of the original
constitution of their country, were murdered by means of
the faction-cry of his name, if not by his contrivance ; their
deaths inspired the awe of personal fear in many, both in
HoUand and England, who did not altogether approve of the
principles by which the hero of Nassau obtained his ends.
Europe had been long divided with the violent contest for
superiority between the French and Spanish monarchies.
Since the days of the mighty accession of empire and wealth
by Charles V., the kings of France had rather unequally
straggled against the powers of Spain, leagued with the
empire of Germany. The real points of difference between
» She is the direct ancestress of the late king of the French, Louis Philippe.
2 By poisoning his waistcoat ! See the chapter entitled " De Witt and his
Facttfm."-Sir William Temple, voL ii. p. 245. The reader should, however,
notice that repuhlicamsm was the legitimate government m Holland, and that
William of Orange, as an herc^tary ruler there, was a usurper.
» This term is even used by modem authors; see Mackintosh's History of
the Revolution, p. 603.

24 MARY II.
Louis XIV. and the prince of Orange were whoUy personal
ones, and had nothing to do with either liberty or reUgion.
WiUiam, who was excessively proud of his Proven9al ancestry,
was haunted with an idea more worthy of a poet than a
Dutchman, being the restoration of his titular principaUty,
the dominions from whence he derived his title, the golden
Aurausia' of the south of France, seated on the Rhone.
WiUiam demanded the restitution of the city of Orange from
Louis XIV. after it had been resigned by his ancestors for
two centuries, and the title of Orange had been transplanted,
by the marriage of its heiress, among the fogs and frogs of
the Low Countries. As WilUam of Orange retained the
title, and was the grandson of queen Henrietta Maria, and
as such was one of his nearest male relatives, Louis XIV.
had no objection to receive him as a vassal-peer of France, if
he would have accepted the hand of his eldest Ulegitimate
child, the fair daughter of the beautiful La ValUfere, (who
afterwards married the fourth prince of the blood-royal,
Conti). WiUiam refused the young lady, and the whole
proposition, very rudely, and it is difficult to decide which
of these two kinsmen cherished the more deacUy rage of
vengeful hatred against the other for the remainder of their
lives.' The first hint from an official person relative to the wed
lock of Mary and WiUiam, occurs in a letter from sir WiUiam
Temple to him. "The duke of York, your uncle," wrote
this ambassador, "bade me assure your highness, 'that he
looked on your interest as his own; and if there was any
thing wherein you might use his services, you might be sure
of it.' I replied, ' Pray, sir, remember there is nothing you
except, and you do not know how far a young prince's desires
may go. I will teU him what you say, and if there be occa
sion, be a witness of it.' The duke of York snuled, and
said, 'WeU, weU; you may, for aU that, teU him what I bid
vou.' Upon which I said, 'At least, I will teU the prince of
Orange that you smiled at my question, which is, I am sure,
¦ Prom the yellow stone of which the Romans built this town, not from the
growth of oranges. " Dangeau, and St. Simon's Memoirs.

MARY II. 25
a great deal better than if you frowned.'" No impartial
person, conversant with the state-papers of the era, can doubt
for a moment that the restoration of their nephew to his
rights as stadtholder was a point which Charles II. and his
brother never forgot, whUe they were contesting the sove
reignty of the seas with the republican faction which then
governed HoUand. Sir William Temple clearly points out
three things that Charles II. had at heart, and which he
finaUy effected. First, for the Dutch fleets to own his su
premacy in the narrow seas, by striking their flags to the
smaUest craft that bore the banner of England, which was
done, and has been done ever since, — thanks to the victories
of his brother. " The matter of the flag was carried to all
the height his majesty Charles II. could wish, and the ac
knowledgment of its dominion in the narrow seas allowed
by treaty from the most powerful of our neighbours at sea,
which had never yet been yielded by the weakest of them.'"
The next, that his nephew WiUiam, who was at this period
of his Ufe regarded by Charles and James affectionately as if
he were a cherished son, should be recognised not only as
stadtholder,* but hereditary stadtholder, with succession to
children. Directly this was done, Charles made a separate
peace with HoUand, with scarcely an apology to France.*
Next it appears, by the same authority,^ that king Charles
II., poor as he was, remembered that England had never
paid the portion stipulated with the princess-royal, his aunt.
1 Su- William Temple's Letters, vol. iv. p. 22, Feb. 1674.
2 Ibid., vol. i. p. 250; edition 1757. " Ibid., pp. 247, 252, 258, 261.
* In the Atlas Geograpbicus, vol. i. p. 811, there is an abstract of the de
mands of the king of Great Britain in behalf of his nephew, after the last great
battle of Solebay, gained by his uncle James duke of York. "Article VI, That
the prince of Orange and his posterity shall henceforward enjoy the sovereignty
of the United Provinces; that the prrace and his heirs should for ever enjoy the
dignities of general, admiral, and stadtholder." That this clause might entrench
on the liberties of Holland is undeniable, but at the same time it redeemed the
promise made by Charles to his dying sister "regarding tiie restoration of her
orphan son as stadtholder, with far greats power than bis ancestors had even
enjoyed." Nothing can be more diametrically opposite to truth than the perpe
tual assertion of the authors of the last century, that Charles II. and his brother
oppressed their nephew, instead of being, what they really were, his indulgent
benefactors. . „ , , t.^ • oci
» Temple s Memoirs, p. 251.

26 MARY IL
He now honourably paid it, not to the states of HoUand,
but insisted that it should be paid into the hands of her
orphan son, his nephew, WilUam of Orange, and this was
done ; and let those who doubt it turn to the testimony of
the man who effected it, — sir WilUam Temple.
After Charles had seen his bereaved and impoverished
nephew firmly established as a sovereign-prince, with his
mother's dowry in his pocket to render him independent, he
recalled all his subjects fighting under the banners of France,'
and gave leave for the Spaniaids and their generalissimo, his
nephew William, to enUst his subjects in their service against
France. Great personal courage was certainly possessed by
William of Orange, and personal courage, before the Moloch
centuries gradually blended into the sweeter sway of Mam
mon, was considered tantamount to aU other virtues. In
one of the bloody drawn battles, after the furious strife had
commenced between Louis XIV. and Spain in the Low
Countries, the prince of Orange received a musket-shot in
the arm : his loving Dutchmen groaned and retreated, when
their young general took off his hat with the wounded arm,
and waving it about his head to show his arm was not broken,
cheered them on to renew the charge. Another anecdote of
WUliam's conduct in the field is not quite so pleasant. In
his lost battle of Mont Cassel, his best Dutch regiments per
tinaciously retreated. The prince ralUed and led them to
the charge, till they utterly fled, and carried him with them
to the main body. The diminutive hero, however, fought
both the French and his own Dutch in his unwiUing transit.
One great cowardly Dutchman he slashed in the face, ex
claiming, " Coquin I je te marquerai, au moins, afin de te
pendre." — ' Rascal ! I will set a mark on thee, at least, that
I may hang thee afterwards." This adventure leans from
the perpendicular of the sublime somewhat to the ridiculous.
It was an absurd cruelty, as well as an imprudent saUy of
Venomous temper; there was no glory gained by slashing
• Temple's Memoirs, p. 250. Party historians have taken advantage of
these mercenaries fighting on both sides, to make the greatest confiision at
this era, _ , , „
'' Temple 8 Memoirs, vol. u. p. 399.

MARY II. 27
a man's face, who was too much of a poltroon not to demoUsh
him on such provocation.
Among the British subjects who studied the art of war
under William, whUst that prince was generaUssimo for
Spain, was the renowned Graham of Claverhouse, who after
wards made his crown of Great Britain totter. At the bloody
battle of Seneffe, Claverhouse saved the prince of Orange,
when his horse was killed under him, from death, or from
what the prince would have Uked less, captivity to Louis XIV, :
he rescued him by a desperate charge, and sacrificing his own
chance of retreat, placed the little man on his own swift
and strong war-horse. Like his great-nephew, Frederic II.
of Prussia, WilUam of Orange sooner or later always mani
fested ungrateful hatred against those who saved his life. How
William requited sir John Fenwick, who laid him under a
simUar obUgation the same day, or soon afterwards, is matter
of history,' He, however, promised Claverhouse the com
mand of the first regiment that should be vacant ; but he
broke his word, and gave it to the son of the earl of Port-
more, subsequently one of his instruments in the Revolution.
Claverhouse was indignant, and meeting his supplanter at
Loo, he caned him. The prince of Orange told Claverhouse
" that he had forfeited his right hand for striking any one
within the verge of his palace," Claverhouse, in reply,
undauntedly reproached him with his breach of promise,
" I give you what is of more value to you than a regiment,"
said the prince, drily, "being your good right hand," —
" Your highness must likewise give me leave to serve else
where," returned Claverhouse. As he was departing, the
prince of Orange sent him a purse of two hundred guineas,
as the purchase of the good steed which had saved his life.
Claverhouse ordered the horse to be led to the prince's
stables, and tossed the contents of the purse among the
Dutch grooms,'
Most persons suppose that William of Orange had to bide
' Memoirs of Captain Bernardi, who was present. It rests not only on his
testimony, but is an oft-repeated fact.
2 Memoirs of Sir Ewen Cameron; published by the Maitland Club, pp. 274,
275,

28 MARY II.
the ambitious attack of Louis XIV. in 1674 single-handed.
A mistake; he was the general of aU Europe combined
against France, with the exception of Great Britain, who sat
looking on; and very much in the right, seeing the Roman-
cathoUc power of France contending with the ultra-papist
states of Spain and Austria, the last championized, forsooth,
by the young Orange protestant, whose repeated defeats,
however, had placed Flanders (the usual European battle
ground) utterly at the mercy of Louis XIV. William of
Orange, with more bravery than was needful, was not quite
so great a general as he thought himself. His situation now
became most interesting, for his own country was forthwith
occupied by the victorious armies of France, and every one
but himself gave him up for lost. Here his energetic firm
ness raises him at once to the rank of the hero which he
was, although he has received a greater share of hero-worship
than was his due. He was not an injured hero; he had
provoked the storm, and he was fighting the battles of the
most culpable of papist states. We have no space to enter
into the detail of the heroic struggle maintained by the young
stadtholder and his faithful Dutchmen; how they laid their
country under water, and successfully kept the powerful
invader at bay. Once the contest seemed utterly hopeless.
WUliam was advised to compromise the matter, and yield up
HoUand as the conquest of Louis XIV. " No," repUed he;
" I mean to die in the last ditch." A speech alone sufficient
to render his memory immortal.
In the midst of the arduous war with France, just after
the battle of Seneffe, WiUiam of Orange was seized with the
same fatal malady which had destroyed both his father and
his mother in the prime of their Uves. The eruption refused
to throw out, and he remained half dead. His physicians
declared, that if some young healthy person, who had not
had the disease, would enter the bed and hold the prince in
his arms for some time, the animal warmth might cause the
pustules to appear, and the hope of his country be thus
saved. This announcement produced the greatest consterna
tion among the attendants of the prince; even those who had

MARY II. 29
had the disease were terrified at encountering the infection in
its most virulent state, for the physicians acknowledged that
the experiment might be fatal. One of the pages of the
prince of Orange, a young noble of the line of Bentinck, who
was eminently handsome, resolved to venture his safety for
the Ufe of his master, and volunteered to be the subject of
the experiment, which, when tried, was completely successful,
Bentinck imbibed the disease, and narrowly escaped with Ufe:
for many years, he was William's favourite and prime-minis
ter. Soon after WiUiam's recovery from this dangerous dis
ease, his royal uncles, supposing the boyish thirst of combat
in their nephew might possibly be assuaged by witnessing or
perpetrating the slaughter of a hundred thousand men, (the
victims of the contest between France and Spain in four
years,) gave him a hint, that if he would pacify Europe he
should be rewarded by the hand of his cousin, the princess
Mary. The prospect of his uncle James becoming the father
of a numerous famUy of sons, prompted a rude rejection in
the reply, " he was not in a condition to think of a wife." '
The duke of York was deeply hurt and angry' that any men
tion had been made of the pride and darUng of his heart, his
beautiftil Mary, then in her fifteenth year; "though," con
tinues Temple, "it was done only by my lord Ossory, and
whether with any order from the king and duke, he best
knew." Lord Ossory, the brave son of Ormonde, the re
nowned ducal-cavaUer, commanded the mercenary English
troops before named. He was as Uttle pleased as the insulted
father at the slight cast on young Mary.
The Dutch prince experienced a change in the warmth of
the letters which the father of the princess Mary had addres
sed to him, since the rude answer he had given to a very kind
intent. It had, besides, been signified to him by Charles IL,
when he proposed a visit to England, "that he had better stay
tUl invited." These intimations made the early-wise poUtician
understand, that the insult he had offered, in an effervescence
of jDrutal temper, to the fair young princess whose rank was
so much above his own, was not likely to be soon forgotten
' Temple, vol. ii. p. 294. " Ibid., p. 295.

30 MARY II.
by her fond father or her uncle. With infinite sagacity he
changed his tactics, knowing that the king of Great Britain,
(whatsoever party revUings may say to the contrary,) though
pacific, reaUy maintained the attitude of Henry VIII. when
Charles V. and Francis I. were contending together. Young
WilUam of Orange needed not to be told, that if his uncles
threw their swords into the scale against his Spanish and
Austrian masters, aU the contents of aU the dykes of HoUand
would not then fence him against his mortal enemy Louis,
whom, it wiU be remembered, he had Ukewise contrived to
insult regarding the disposal of his charming self in wedlock.
With the wise intention of backing dexterously out of a pretty
considerable scrape, the young hero of Nassau made an assig
nation with his devoted friend, sir WiUiam Temple,' to hold
some discourse touching love and marriage, in the gardens of
his Hoimslardyke-palace, one morning in the pleasant month
of January. " He appointed the hour," says sir WilUam
Temple, "and we met accordingly. The prince told me
that ' I could easUy beUeve that, being the only son that was
left of his family, he was often pressed by his friends to think
of marrying, and had had many persons proposed to him, as
their several humours led them ; that, for his part, he knew it
was a thing to be done at some time or other."' After pro
ceeding in this inimitable style through a long speech, setting
forth " the offers made to him by ladies in France and Ger
many," he intimated that England was the only country to
which he was likely to return a favourable answer; and added,
"Before I make any paces that way, I am resolved to have
your opinion upon two points; but yet I wUl not ask it,
unless you promise to answer me as a friend, and not as king
Charles's ambassador." He knew very weU that aU he was
pleased to say regarding "his paces," as he elegantly termed
his matrimonial proposals, would be duly transmitted to his
uncle, both as friend and ambassador, and that the points on
which he caUed a consultation would be quoted as sufficient
apology for his previous brutaUty. " He wished," he said,
" to know somewhat of the person and disposition of the
' Temple, voL ii. pp. 325, 334.

MARY II. 31
young lady Mary; for though it would not pass in the world
[i.e., that the world would not give him credit for such deU-
cacy] for a prince to seem concerned in those particulars, yet,
, for himself, he would tell me without any sort of affectation
that he was so, and to such a degree that no circumstances
of fortune and interest would engage him without those of
person, especially those of humour and disposition, [meaning
temper and principles]. As for himself, he might perhaps
not be very easy for a wife to Uve with, — he was sure he
should not to such wives as were generally in the courts of
this age; that if he should meet with one to give him trouble
at home, 'twas what he shouldn't be able to bear, who was like
to have enough abroad in the course of his life. Besides,
after the manner in which he was resolved to Uve with a wife
— which should be the very best he could, he would have one
that he thought likely to live well with him, which he thought
chiefly depended on her disposition and education; and that
if I [sir WiUiam Temple] knew any thing particular in these
points of the lady Mary, he desired I would tell him freely.'"
Sir William Temple repUed, that " He was very glad to find
that he was resolved to marry. Of his own observation he
could say nothing of the temper and principles of the lady
Mary; but that he had heard both his wife and sister speak
with all advantage of what they could discern in a princess so
young, and more from what they had been told by her gover
ness, lady VUUers, for whom they had a particular friendship,
and who, he was sure, took all the care that could be in that
part of her education which feU to her share." Who would
have beUeved that the first exploit of the young prince — then
making such proper and sensible inquiries regarding the tem
per and principles of his wedded partner, with such fine sen
timents of wedded felicity on a throne — should be the seduc
tion of the daughter of this governess, the constant companion
of his -wVe, who was subjected to the insult of such compa
nionship to the last hour of her life ? Sir WiUiam Temple—
who, good man, beUeved most guUelessly aU that the hero of
Nassau chose to instU— thus proceeds:' "After two hours'
» Temple's Memoes, vol, ii. pp. 335, 336. ' B)id., p. 336.

32 MABY n.
discourse on this subject, the prince of Orange condudedthat
he would enter on this pursuit," that is, propose forthwith for
his cousin Mary. " He meant to write both to the king and
the duke of York to beg their fevour in it, and their leave that
he might go over into England at the end of the campaign.
He requested that my wife, lady Temple, who was retoming
upon my private affairs in my own country, should cany and
deUver both his letters to his royal uncles; and during her
stay there, should endeavour to inform herself, the most par
ticularly that she could, of all that concerned the person,
humour, and dispositions of the young princess. Within two
or three days of this discourse the prince of Orange brought
his letters to lady Temple, and she went directly to England
with them. " She left me," said sir WiUiam Temple, " pre
paring for the treaty of Nimeguen," where, by the way, the
Dutch and French were equally desirons of peace, although
WilUam of Orange contrived to eke out the war, in behalf of
his Spanish master, for ftdl three years.
The prince of Orange was better able to negotiate for a
wife, having lost his grandmother in 1675, who had posses
sion of the Palace in the Wood, and other immunities of
dowagerhood at the Hague. This princess was remarkable
for a gorgeous economy ; she had never more than 12,000
crowns per annum revenue, yet she was entirely served in
gold plate. Sir WilUam Temple enumerates her water-
bottles of gold, the key of her closet of gold, and aU her
gold cisterns; every thing this grand old dowager touched
was of that adorable and adored metal. It was as wel],
perhaps, for young Mary, that her husband's grandmother
had departed before her arrival. It may be doubted whe
ther the young bride inherited all the gold moveables.
WiUiam had a bad habit of shooting away aU the precious
metals he could appropriate, in battles and sieges. The
"plenishings" at WhitehaU, although only of siller, were
coined up, and departed on the same bad errand, in the last
years of his life.
The campaign of 1677 being concluded, the Orange hero
having nothing better to do, condescended to go in "person

MARY II. 33
to seek the hand of one of the finest girls in Europe, and the
presumptive heiress of Great Britain. For this purpose he set
sail from HoUand, and arrived at Harwich, after a stormy
passage, October i^th of the same year. Having disposed
himself to act the wooer,' " He came," says sir WUUam
Temple, "like a trusty lover, post from Harwich to New
market, where his uncles, Charles II. and James duke of
York, were enjoying the October Newmarket meeting."
Charles was residing in a shabby palace there, to which his
nephew instantly repaired : lord ArUngton, the prime-minis
ter, waited on him at his aUghting. " My lord ti-easurer
Danby and I," continues sir WiUiam Temple, "went toge
ther to wait on the prince, but met him on the middle of the
stairs, involved in a great crowd, coming down to the king.
He whispered to us both ' that he must desire me to answer
for him^ and for my lord treasurer Danby, so that they
might from that time enter into business and conversation,
as if they were of longer acquaintance;' which was a wise
strain considering his lordship's credit at court at that time.
It much shocked my lord Arlington."* This means that
WilUam demanded of Temple an introduction to Danby,
with whom he was not personally acquainted; but with
such kindred souls, a deep and lasting intimacy soon was
estabUshed. The prince of Orange was very kindly received by king
Charles and the duke of York, who both stiove to enter
into discussions of business, which they were surprised and
diverted to observe how dexterously he avoided. " So king
Charles," says Temple, " bade me find out the reason of it."
The prince of Orange told me "he was resolved to see the
young princess before he entered into affairs, and to proceed
in that before the other affairs of the peace." The fact was,
' Temple's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 519, et seq.
' This seems a technical term for ' introduction,' being a sort of warranty that
the person introduced was " good man and true."
' We have the testimony of M. Dumont, of Les Afiaires Etrangeres de
France, that not the slightest evidence exists among the documents there im
plicating the persoual honesty of Arlington, Chfford, or the other members of
the cabal. Tlicse are " dogs to whom a very bad name has been given," perhaps
worse than they actually deserved.
VOL. VII. B

31 MARY IL
he did not mean to make peace, but to play the impassioned
lover as weU as he could, and obtain her from the good-
nature of his tmcle Charles, and then trust to his alliance
with the Protestant heiress of England to force the continu
ance of the war with France. He could not affect being in
love with his cousin before he saw her, and for this happiness
he showed so much impatience, that his uncle Charles said,
(laughing, like a good-for-nothing person as he was, at a
delicacy which would have been most respectable if it had
been real,) "he supposed his whims must be humoured;'"
and, leaving Newmarket some days before his incUnation, he
escorted the Prince to WhitehaU, and presented him as a
suitor to his fair niece.
"The prince," proceeds his friend Temple, "upon the
sight of the princess Mary was so pleased with her person,'
and all those signs of such a ' humour' as had been described
to him, that he immediately made his suit to the king, which
was very well received and assented to, but with this condi
tion, that the terms of a peace abroad might first be agreed
on between them. The prince of Orange excused himself,
and said "he must end his marriage before he began the
peace treaty." Whether he deemed marriage and peace in
compatible he did not add, but his expressions, though per
fectly consistent with his usual measures, were not very
suitable to the lover-Uke impatience he affected : " His alli^
would be apt to beUeve he had made this match at their cost;
and, for his part, he would never seU his honour for — a
wife!" This gentlemanlike speech availed not, and the king
continued so positive for three or four days, " that my lord
treasurer [Danby] and I began to doubt the whole business
would break upon this punctilio," says sir WiUiam Temple,
adding,* "About that time I chanced to go to the prince at
supper, and found him in the worst humour I ever saw. He
told me 'that he repented coming into England, and resolved
that he would stay but two days longer, and then be gone, if
the king continued in the mind he was, of treating of the
• Temple's Memoirs, vol. ii. pp. iVj, 420. « Ibid.
' Ibid., p. 429.

MARY II. 35
peace before he was married. But that before he went, the
king must choose how they should live hereafter ; for he was
sure it must be either like the 'greatest friends or the
greatest enemies,' and desired me 'to let his majesty know
so next morning, and give him an account of what he should
say upon it.' " ' This was abundantly insolent, even sup
posing WiUiam owed no more to his uncle than according to
the general-history version; but when we see him raised
from the dust, loaded with benefits, and put in a position to
assume this arrogant tone, — undeniable facts, aUowed even
by the partial pen of Temple, — the hero of Nassau assumes
the ugly semblance of an ungrateful little person, a very
spoiled manikin withal, in a most iU-behaved humour.
Careless, easy Charles, who let every man, woman, and
child have its own way that plagued him into compUance,
was the very person with whom such airs had their intended
effect. Sir WUUam Temple having communicated to his
sovereign this polite speech of defiance in his own palace,
Charles repUed, after Ustening with great attention, " WeU,
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 wiU trust him: he shall
have his wife. You go, sir William Temple, and tell my
brother so, and that it is a thing I am resolved on." — " I did
so," continues sir William Temple, " and the duke of York
seemed at first a Uttle surprised; but when I had done, he
said 'the king shaU be obeyed, and I would be glad if aU his
subjects would learn of me to obey him. I do teU him my
opinion very freely upon aU things ; but when I know his
positive pleasure on a point, I obey him." .... From the
duke of York I went," continues Temple, "to the prince of
Orange, and told him my story, which he could hardly at
first believe ; but he embraced me, and told me I had made
him a very happy man, and very imexpectedly. So I left
him to give the king an account of what had passed. As I
went through the ante-chamber of the prince of Orange, I
encountered lord treasurer Danby, and told him my story.
' Sir William Temple's Memoirs, vol. ii. pp. 420, 421, ' Ibid.
d2

36 MARY III
Lord treasurer undertook to adjust aU between the king and
the prince of Orange." This he did so weU, that the match
was declared that evening in the cabinet councU,' Then the
prince of Orange requested an interview with his uncle the
duke of York, for the purpose of telling him " that he had
something to say about an affair which was the chief cause
of his coming to England: this was, to desire that he might
have the happiness to be nearer related to him, by marrying
the lady Mary," The duke replied "that he had aU the
esteem for him he could desire ; but tUl they had brought to
a conclusion the affair of war or peace, that discourse must
be delayed,'" The duke mentioned the conversation to king
Charles in the evening, who owned that he had authorized
the application of the prince of Orange.
Some private negotiation had taken place between the
duke of York and Louis XIV., respecting the marriage of
the lady Mary and the dauphin. The treaty had degenerated
into a proposal for her from the prince de Conti, which had
been rejected by the duke of York with infinite scorn.* He
considered that the heir of France alone was worthy of the
hand of his beautiful Mary, Court gossip had declared that
the suit of the prince of Orange was as unacceptable to her
as to her father, and that her heart was already given to a
handsome young Scotch lord, on whom her father would
rather have bestowed her than on his nephew. How the
' Memoirs of James II. edited by Stanier Clark.
' Sir William Temple's Memoirs, vol. ii.
' There is a story afloat, m a party book called the "Secret History" of those
times, that the king of France (taking advautage of the reluctance manifested
by the duke of York to the Orange match) proposed by his ambassador, that
the young lad^ Ma±y should affect indisposition, and request to go, for the re
covery of her health, to the baths of Bourbon, when she should be seized upon,
and married directly to the dauphin; and he promised every toleration of her
faith, and that the Protestants io Prance, (to humour the duke of York's pas
sion for toleration,) should have unusual privileges. Neither the duke nor the
kmg was to appear as consenting in the scheme. Another version is, "that
Louis XIV. sent the duke de Vend6me and a splendid embassy to London pro-
posing to the duke of York to steal or kidnap the princess; but that Charles IL
was averse to the scheme, and had her guaids doubled and great precautions
taken, and finished by marrying her suddenly to the prmoe."— Secret History of
Whitehall, vol. i. 1678. There is not a particle of this tale corroborated by
documentary history.

MARY II. 87
poor bride approved of the match, is a point that none of
these diplomatists think it worth while to mention : for her
manner of receiving the news, we must refer to the unprinted
pages of her confidential friend and tutor. Dr. Lake. The
announcement was made to Mary, October the 21st. "That
day," writes Dr. Lake, " the duke of York dined at White
haU, and after dinner came to St. James's, (which was his
family residence). He led his eldest daughter, the lady
Mary, into her closet, and told her of the marriage designed
between her and the prince of Orange; whereupon her high
ness wept all the afternoon, and aU the following day.' The
next day the privy council came to congratulate the yet
weeping bride, and lord chancellor Finch made her a com-
pUmentary speech. It appears that the prince shared in
, these congratulations, and was by her side when they were
made. The day after, the judges complimented and congra
tulated their affianced highnesses, — ^lord justice Rainsford
speaking to my lady Mary in the name of the rest ; after
which, they aU kissed her hand."' The poor princess, in
company with her betrothed, had several deputations to re
ceive October 24th. These were the lord mayor and alder
men, the civiUans of Doctors' Commons, and the commercial
companies that her father had founded : she had to Usten to
speeches congratulatory on an event, for which her heart was
oppressed and her eyes still streaming. The citizens gave a
grand feast, to show their loyal joy at the pure protestantism
of this alliance ; her highness the bride, accompanied by her
sister the lady Anne, and her step-mother the duchess of
York, witnessed the civic procession from the house of sir
Edward Waldo, in Cheapside, where they sat under a canopy
of state, and afterwards partook of the lord mayor's banquet
at GuildhaU, October 29.*
The marriage was appointed for the prince of Orange's
birthday, being Sunday, November the 4th, o. s. How
startled would have been the persons who assembled round
the altar, dressed in the bride's bedchamber in St. James's-
> Lake's MS. Diary. ^ Ibid.
» Life of Mary IL, 1695: published at the Harrow, in Fleet-street. Sir
Francis Chaplin commenced his mayoralty on that day.

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

When William of Orange invaded England, and dothronwl his uncle and
&ther-in-]aw, James II. t Lake's MS. Diary
« Lake's MS. Diary. Life of Mary IL : 1695, « Ibid

MARY n. 39
for at eleven the prince and princess of Orange retired to
rest, and all the ceremonies took place which were then
national.' These were breaking cake and drinking possets,
in the presence of aU those who assisted at the marriage :
king Charles drew the curtains with his own royal hand, and
departed, shouting "St. George for England!" The next
morning the prince of Orange, by his favourite, Bentinck,
sent his princess a magnificent gift of jewels to the amount
of 40,000/. The lord mayor came with congratulations to
the prince and princess of Orange, and the same routine
of compliments from the high officials that had waited on the
princess previously, now were repeated to her on account
of her marriage.
This Protestant aUiance was so highly popular in Scotland,
that it was celebrated with extraordinary and quaint festi
vities, being announced with great pomp by the duke of
Lauderdale at Edinburgh, at the town Mercat-cross, which
was hung with tapestry, and embelUshed with an arbour
formed of many hundreds of oranges. His grace, with the
lord provost, and as many of the civic magistrates and great
nobles as it could hold, ascending to this hymeneal temple,
entered it, and there drank the good healths of their high
nesses the prince and princess ; next, of their royal highnesses
the duke and duchess of York, then the queen's, and last of
all the king's, during which the cannon played from the
castle, all the conduits from the cross ran with wine, and
many voidcrs of sweetmeats were tossed among the people,
who were loud and long in their applauses. Great bonfires
were kindled as in London, and the popular rejoicings were
prolonged till a late hour.'
Two days after the marriage, the bride was actually disin
herited of her expectations on the throne of Great Britain
¦ Barbarous and uncivilizc^d as these ceremonials were, in a MS. letter kindly
communicated by Mrs. Shikeltliorp of Wendling, in Norfolk, of the late lady
Anne Hamilton, (widow of lord Anne Hamilton, and one of the ladles of queen
Charlotte,) she notices that his majesty George III. and his queen were the first
royal pair married in England for whom thenc joyous uproars were not prepared
on their bridal evening. Horace Wnlpole fully confirms the same, by his account
of the wedding of Frederick prince of Wales, father of George III,
« Life of Mary ILi 1605,

40 MARY II.
by the birth of a brother, who seemed sprightly, and likely
to live. The prinoe of Orange had the compliment paid him
of standing sponsor to this unwelcome relative when it was
baptized, November the 8th, The lady-governess ViUiers
stood godmother by proxy for one of her charges, the young
princess Isabella. The ill-humour of the prince of Orange
now became sufficiently visible to the courtiers ; as for his
unhappy bride, she is never mentioned by her tutor Dr, Lake
excepting as in tears. She had, when married, and for some
days afterwards, an excuse for her sadness, in the alarming
illness of her sister lady Anne, whom at that time she pas
sionately loved. Lady Anne is not named as being present
at her sister's nuptials, an absence that is unaccounted for
excepting by Dr. Lake, who says, " her highness the lady
Anne, having been sick for several days, appeared to have the
smallpox."' She had most likely taken the infection when
visiting the city. " I was commanded," added Dr. Lake,
"not to go to her chamber to read prayers to her, because of
my attendance on the princess of Orange, and on the other
children:" these were lady Isabella, and the new-bom
Charles, who could have dispensed with his spiritual exhorta
tions. " This troubled me," he resumes, " the more, because
the nurse of the lady Anne was a very busy, zealous Roman-
cathoUc, and would probably discompose her highness if she
had an opportunity; wherefore, November 11th, I waited on
the lady governess, [lady Frances ViUiers,] and suggested
this to her. She bade me ' do what I thought fit.' But
little satisfied with what she said to me, I addressed myself
to the bishop of London,' who commanded me to wait
constantly on her highness lady Anne, and to do aU suitable
offices ministerial incumbent on me."
The parental tenderness of the duke of York had enjoined
that all communication must be cut off between his daugh
ters, lest the infection of this plague of smallpox should be
communicated to the princess of Orange, as if he had antici-
> Lake's MS. Diary, Nov. 7.
« Compton, Mshop of London, who was governor or preceptor to the
princesses.

MABY II. 41
pated how fatal it was one day to be to her. Dr. Lake was
not permitted, if he continued his attendance on the prin
cess Anne, to see the princess of Orange. " I thought it my
duty," ' he says, " before I went to her highness lady Anne,
to take my leave of the princess, who designed to depart for
Holland with her husband the Friday next. I perceived
her eyes full of tears, and herself very disconsolate, not only
for her sister's illness, but on account of the prince urging
her to remove her residence to Whitehall, to which the
princess would by no means be persuaded." The reason
the prince wished to quit St. James's was, because the small
pox was raging th(;re like a plague. Not only the lady
Anne of York, but lady Villiers and several of the duke's
household were sickening with this fatal disorder; yet the
disconsolate bride chose to run all risks, rather than quit
her father one hour before she had to commence her un
welcome banishment.
, Dr. Lake tried his reasoning powers to convince the prin
cess of Orange of the propriety of this measure, but in vain.
He theil took the opportunity of preferring a request con
cerning his own interest, " I had the honour to retire with
her to her closet," continues Dr, Lake,' " and I call God to
witness, that I never said there, or elsewhere, any thing
contrary to the holy Scriptures, or to the discipline of the
church of England ; and I hoped that the things in which I
had instructed her might still remain with her. I said, ' I
had boon with her seven years, and that no person who
hath lived so long at court but did make a far greater ad
vantage than I have done, having gotten but 100/. a-year;
wherefore I did humbly request her highness that, at her
departure, she would recommend me to the king and the
bishop of London, and that I would endeavour to requite
the favour by being very careful of the right instruction of
the lady Anne, her sister, of whom I had all the assurances
in the world that she would be very good. Finally, I wished
• Lake's MS. Diary.
" Ibid. On that very day Dr. Lake mentions that he hod completed his
thirty-fifth year.

42 ILART II.
her highness aU prosperity, and that God would bless her,
and show her favour in the sight of the strange people
among whom she was going.' Whereupon I kneeled down,
and kissed her gown. Her highness of Orange gave me
thanks for all my kindnesses, and assured me 'that she
would do all that she could for me.' She could say no more
for excessive weeping. So she turned her back, and went
into her bedroom." '
"At three o'clock I went to the lady Anne, and, consi
dering her distemper, found her very weU, without head
ache, or pain in her back, or fever. I read prayers to her."
This was on Sunday, November the 11th, the princess of
Orange having been married a week. Notwithstanding aU
the remonstrances of her husband, and her own danger of
infection, the bride carried her point, and clave to her pa
ternal home at St, James's-palace to the last moment of her
stay in England, Meantime, the duke of York kept her
from seeing her sister Anne, who became worse from day to
day as the disease approached its climax, " Her highness,
lady Anne," says Dr. Lake, "was somewhat giddy, and very
much disordered ; she requested me not to leave her, and re
commended to me the care of her foster-sister's instruction
in the Protestant reUgion. At night I christened her nurse's
child, Mary.'" This was the daughter of the Roman-ca-
thoUc nurse, of whom Compton bishop of London expressed
so much apprehension : how she came to permit the church-
of-England chaplain to christen her baby is not explained.
The fifteenth of November was the queen's birthday, which
was celebrated with double pomp, on account of her niece's
marriage. From Dr. Lake, it is impossible to gather the
sUghtest hint of the bridal costume, or of the dress of the
bride, excepting that her royal highness attired herself for
that baU very richly, and wore all her jewels. She was very
sad; the prince, her husband, was as sullen. He never
spoke to her the whole evening, and his brutaUty was re
marked by every one there. Yet the artists and the poets
of England had combined to make that evening a scene of
' Lake's MS. Diary. 2 Ibid.

MARY IL 43
enchantment and delight. AU seemed replete with joy and
mirth, excepting the disconsolate Mary, who expected that
she should have, before she retired to rest, to doff her
courtly robes and jewels, and embark on board the yacht
that was to take her to HoUand. On this account, the
officials of the household of her father, and those of her own
maiden estabUshment in England, were permitted to kiss
her hand at the baU, and to take leave of her, which they
did at eight o'clock in the evening.'
The epithalamium of this wedlock was from the pen of
the courtly veteran, WaUer, and was sung that night : —
"As once the lion honey gave.
Out of the strong such sweetness came,
A royal hero' no less brave.
Produced this sweet — ^this lovely dame.'
To her the prince* that did oppose
Gaul's mighty armies in the field.
And Holland from prevailing foes
Could so well free, himself does yield.
Not Belgia's fleets (his high command)
¦Which triumph where the sun does rise.
Nor all the force he leads by land.
Could guard him from her conquering eyes.
Orange with youth experience has.
In action young, in council old.
Orange is what Augustus was, —
Brave, wary, provident, and bold.
On that fair tree' which hears his name.
Blossoms and fruit at once are fo»md ;
In him we all admire the same.
His flowery youth with wisdom crowned.
Thrice happy pair ! so near allied
In royal blood, and virtue too.
Now Love has you together tied.
May none the triple knot undo."
The wind that night setting in easterly, gave the poor
bride a reprieve, and she in consequence remained by the
paternal side aU the next day, November the 16th, in the
home-palace of St. James. The perversity of the wind did
not ameUorate the temper of her husband; he was exces-
» Lake's MS. Diary. ' James duke of York.
' Mary, his daughter. ' William of Orange.
¦> The orange-tree was the device of William, orange and green his liveries.

44 MARY II.
sively impatient of remaining in England to witness the con
tinuance of festivities, dancing, and rejoicing. " This day,"
says Dr. Lake, " the court began to whisper of the suUen-
ness and clownishness of the prince of Orange. It was
observed that he took no notice of his bride at the play,
nor did he come to see her at St. James's the day before
their departure." Dr. Lake, and the indignant household of
the princess at St. James's, it seems, blamed this conduct
as unprovoked brutality; but that the prince was not angry
without cause is obvious. Being secretly exasperated at
the unwelcome birth of Mary's young brother, he was not
inclined, as his marriage bargain was much depreciated in
value, to lose the beauty of his young bride as weU as her
kingdom; he was displeased, and not unjustly, at her obsti
nacy in continuing to risk her life and charms of person,
surrounded by the infection at the, palace of St. Jaines.
The maids of honour of the queen, the duchess of York,
and especially of the princess Anne, were enraged at the
rude behaviour of the Dutch prince. They spoke of him
at first as the " Dutch monster," tiU they found for him the
name of " CaUban," a sobriquet which lady Anne, at least,
never forgot.'
The lady Anne being dreadfuUy iU during the days when
her sister's departure hung on the caprice of the wind, the
paternal care of the duke of York deemed that any fareweU
between his daughters would be dangerous for each. He
gave orders, that whenever the princess of Orange actuaUy
went away, the fact was to be carefully concealed from Anne,
lest it should have a fatal effect on her.' The palace of
St. James was stiU reeking with infection : several of the offi
cial attendants of the ducal court were dying ox dead. The
lady governess, Frances ViUiers, was desperately ill: she
was to have accompanied the princess of Orange on her voy
age, but it was impossible.* Dr. Lake thus enumerates,
with a foreboding heart, the disasters accompanying this
marriage: "There were many unlucky circumstances that
¦ Letters of the princess Anne to lady Marlborough.
' Dr. Lake's MS. Diary. a Ibid.

MARY II. 43
did seem to retard and embitter the departure of the prin
cess of Orange, — as the sickness of the lady Anne, the dan
ger of the lady governess, [ViUiers,] who was left behind;
and her husband, [sir Edward ViUiers,] the master of the
horse to the princess of Orange, he too was obliged to stay
in England ; Ukewise the sudden death of Mr. Hemlock, her
nurse's father, which happened at St. James's-palace this
night ; the death and burial of the archbishop of Canterbury,
her godfather;' the illness of Mrs. Trelawney's' father and
uncle; as also Mrs. White's dangerous illness, who was ap
pointed to attend the princess of Orange in Holland. God
preserve her highness, and make her voyage and abode there
prosperous !"*
The wind blew westerly on the morning of the 19th of
November, and in consequence every one was early astir in
the palaces of WhitehaU and St. James, in preparation for
the departure of the Orange bride and bridegroom. The
princess took leave of her beloved home of St. James, and
came to WhitehaU-palace as early as nine in the morning,
to bid fareweU to her royal aunt queen Catharine. Mary,
when she approached, was weeping piteously, and her ma
jesty, to comfort her, "told her to consider how much better
her case was than her own ; for when she came from Portu
gal, she had not even seen king Charles." — " But, madam,"
rejoined the princess of Orange, " remember, you came into
England; I am going out of England." — "The princess
wept grievously all the morning," continues Dr. Lake.*
" She requested the duchess of Monmouth to come often to
see the lady Anne, her sister, and to accompany her to the
chapel the first time she appeared there. She also left two
letters to be given to her sister as soon as she recovered."
What a contrast is this tender heart-cUnging to her family,
to Mary's conduct after ten years' companionship with the
partner to whom her reluctant hand had been given !
' Sheldon, archbishop of Canterbury, died November 9th, and was buried at
Croydon on Nov. 16th, by the side of archbishop Whitgift, at his own desire. —
Dr. £ake.
' Anne Trelawney, the favomrite maid of honour of the princess Mary, was
vidth her two years afterwards in Holland. — Sidney Diary.
» Dr. Lake's Diary, Nov. 16. '' Ibid.

46 MARY II.
The wind was fair for Holland, the tide served, the royal
barges were in waiting at WhitehaU-stairs, and king Charles
and the duke of York were ready, with most of the nobUity
and gentry in London, to accompany the princess and her hus
band down the river as far as Erith, where the bridal party
were to dine.' Here Mary took a heart-rending fareweU
of her father and uncle, and in the afternoon she embarked
at Gravesend with her husband and suite in one of the royal
yachts, several EngUsh and Dutch men-of-war being in
attendance to convoy the gay bark to Holland. The cele
brated poet, Nat Lee, describes the embarkation in his poem
on the marriage and departure of the princess of Orange;
and as he declares that he was an eye-witness of the scene,
it is possible that the parties grouped themselves according
to his Unes. "Tet it is as evident that he knew nothing of
the dangerous iUness of the princess Anne ; that must have
been kept from the pubUc, for he supposes that she was pre
sent. The foUowing are the best of the lines of this now-
forgotten historical poem : —
" Hail ! happy warrior, hail ! whose arms have won
The fairest jewel of the English crown !
Hail ! princess, hail ! thou fairest of thy kind.
Thou shape of angel with an angel's mind !
* * * *
But hark ! 'tis rumoured that this happy pair
Must go : the prince for Holland does declare.
I saw them launch : the prince the princess bore,
'While the sad court stood crowding on the shore.
The prince, stUl bowing, on the deck did stand.
And held his weeping consort by the hand.
Which, waving oft, she bade them all farewell.
And wept as if she would the briny ocean swell,
' Farewell, thou best of fathers, best of friends '.'
'While the grieved duke^ with a deep sigh commends
To heaven his child, in tears his eyes would swim.
But manly virtue stays them at the brim.
'Farewell,' she cried, ' my sister!' thou dear part.
The sweetest half of my divided heart ;
My little love !' — her sighs she did renew —
• Once more, oh, heavens ! a long, a last adieu.
Part ! must I ever lose those pretty charms?'
Then swoons and sinks into the prince's arms."

' Dr. Lake : likewise Echard. 2 The duke of York, her father.
' The princess Anne. Lee evidently supposes that she was present, instead
of being, as she really was, on a bed of sickness at St. James's-palace.

MARY II. 47
This is somewhat common-place, and the theatrical fareweU
to the lady Anne the sheer invention of the poet. Other
thoughts than those surmised by Nat Lee were working in
the brain of Orange,
The duke of York ought to have seen his son-in-law safely
out of the kingdom, for before WilUam of Orange actually
departed, he contrived to play him one of the tricks by
which he finaUy supplanted him in the affections of the
EngUsh people. The wind changed by the time the Dutch
fleet had dropped down to Sheemess, and remained contrary
for thirty or forty hours. At the end of this time the king
and duke of York sent an express to entreat the prince and
princess to come up the river, and remain with them at
Whitehall; instead of which they went on shore at Sheer-
ness, and were entertained by colonel Dorrell, the governor.
The next day, November the 23rd, they crossed the country
to Canterbury, the princess being accompanied only by lady
Inchiquin (one of the VUUers' sisters) and a dresser; the
prince by his favourites, Bentinck and Odyke. Here an
extraordinary circumstance took place ; one witness vouches
"that his authority was no other than the mouth of arch
bishop TiUotson himself, from whose narration it was -wTitten
down.'" — "The prince and princess of Orange, when they
arrived at an inn in Canterbury, found themselves in a des
titute condition for want of cash, as they had been unkindly
and secretly thrust out of London by king Charles and the
duke of York, from jealousy lest the lord mayor should in
vite them to a grand civic feast.' The prince, to reUeve his
wants, sent Bentinck to represent them to the corporation,
and beg a loan of money." It is very plain that the corpora
tion of Canterbury considered the whole application as a
case of mendicity or flctitious distress, for the request was
denied. However, there happened to be present Dr. TiUot
son, the dean of Canterbury, who hurried home, gathered
together aU the plate and ready-money in guineas he had at
> Echard's Appendix and Tindal's Notes to Rapin; the latter, a contem-
porary, adds many ^gravating circumstances, all false.
2 That they had akeady been to this grand feast, October 29, we learn from
Dr. Lake and the Gazette.

48 MARY ir.
command, and bringing them to the inn, begged an inter-
¦view with M. Bentinck, and presented them to him, "with
the hope that they would be serviceable to their highnesses ;"
entreating, withal, "that they would quit a situation so un
worthy of their rank, and come to stay at the deanery, which
was usually the abode of all the royal company that came to
the city.'" The prince accepted the plate and money with
warm thanks, but decUned going to the deanery. Dr. TiUot
son was presented, and kissed the hand of the princess. In
this hospitable transaction no blame can be attached to Dr.
TUlotson, whose conduct was becoming the munificence of
the church he had entered.^ Why the prince of Orange did
not request a loan or supply by the express that his uncles
sent to invite him affectionately back to Whitehall, instead
of presenting himself and his princess in a state of com
plaining mendicity at Canterbury, is inconsistent with plain
dealing. As he had been paid the first instalment of the
40,000Z. which was the portion of the princess, his credit was
good in England. The fact is, that the birth of the young
brother of Mary had rendered this ambitious politician des
perate, and he was making a bold dash at obtaining partisans,
by representing himself as an ill-treated person. Nor were
his efforts ultimately fruitless, if the foUowing statement of
> This feature of the story is preserved by Birch, the biographer of Tillotson,
and not by Echard or Tindal.
2 Dr. "rillolson is, from the period of this adventure, intimately connected
with the fortunes of the princess of Orange; therefore, for the sake of intelligi-
bility, the foUowing abstract of his previous life is presented. He was the son
of a rich clothier of Sowerhy, near Halifax, who was a strict puritan at the time
of John TiUotson's birth, and became a furious anabaptist, which he remained,
even after his son had conformed to our church on her restoration to prosperity.
John Tillotson was bom October 23, 1630; he became a learned and eloquent
man, he was good-tempered, and much beloved in private life. It is nearly im
possible to gather fi'om his biography whether he had been a dissenting preacher,
but as it is certain that he preached before ordination, doubtless he was so. The
religion of TiUotson, before the Restoration, was of that species professed by '
independents who are on good terms with the Socinians. He was chaplain and
tutor to the sons of Prideaux, attorney-general of OUver CromweU. TUlotson
subsequently married Ebina WUkins, a niece of Oliver CromweU. When up
wards of 200O conscientious nonconformists forsook their Uvings rather than
comply with the tenets of the church of England, our church actnaUy gained
John TiUotson, who, being possessed of great eloquence, attained rapid prefer
ment, untU he is found dean of Canterbury, in 1677. This account is abstracted
from Dr. Birch's biography of archbishop TiUotson.

MARY II. 49
a contemporary be correct, and all circumstances corrobo
rate it. " By this accident. Dr. TUlotson begun that lucky
acquaintance and correspondence with the prince and prin
cess of Orange and M. Bentinck, as afterwards advanced
him to an archbishopric.'"
The prince and princess of Orange Ungered no less than
four days at their inn in Canterbury, cultivating the acquaiat-
ance of their new friend Dr. Tillotson, and receiving the con
gratulations of the gentry and nobility of Kent, in whose
eyes WiUiam seemed sedulously to render himself an object
of pity and distress, for great quantities of provisions were
given by them for his use. He left Canterbury, November
the 27th, and went that night with the princess and her train
on board the Montague at Margate, commanded by sir John
Holmes, who set sail the next day. The ice prevented the
fleet from entering the Maes, but the princess and her spouse,
after a quick but stormy passage, were landed at Tethude, a
town on the Holland coast, and went direct to the Houns-
lar dyke-palace. It was remarked, that the princess of
Orange was the only female on board who did not suffer
from sea-sickness.' The princess, besides lady Inchiquin,
(Mary ViUiers,) was accompanied by EUzabeth and Anne
VUUers : the mother of these sisters, her late governess, ex
pired of the smaUpox at St. James's-palace before the prince
of Orange had finished his mysterious transactions at Canter
bury.* The princess had likewise with her, in the capacity
of maid of honour, Mary Wroth, or Worth, a relative of the
Sidney family. Each of these girls disquieted her married
Ufe. Both the unmarried ViUiers were older than herself,
and she was ecUpsed in the eyes of her suUen lord by their
maturer charms. The prince of Orange feU in love with
EUzabeth VUUers, and scandal was likewise afloat relative to
him and her sister Anne, who subsequently married his
favourite, Bentinck. Much wonder is expressed by lady
Mary Wortley Montague, and Ukewise by Swift, who were
• Bapin's Hist, of England, folio, vol. ii. p. 683.
2 Dr. Lake's MS. Diary.
' Birch's Life of TUlotson. Dr. Lake's MS. Sidney Diary.
VOL. VII. E

50 MARY II.
both her acquaintances, how it was possible for EUzabeth
VilUers to rival the princess Mary in the heart of her spouse,
for EUzabeth, although a fine woman, had not a handsome
face. " I always forget myself, and talk of squinting people
before her," says Swift, in his journal ; " and the good lady
squints Uke a dragon."
As soon as possible after the arrival of the princess of
Orange at the Hounslardyke-palace, the States-General of
Holland sent their hoff-master, Dinter, to compliment her
and the prince, and to ascertain " when it would be season
able for them to offer their congratulations in a formal man
ner?" The prince and princess did not make their public
entry into the Hague until December the 14th, so long were
the mynheers preparing their formalities, which were per
petrated with extraordinary magnificence. Twelve companies
of burghers were in arms, drawn up under their respective
ensigns; and the bridge of the Hague was adorned with
green garlands, under which was written a Latin inscription
in honour of the illustrious pair, of which the foUowing is our
author's EngHsh version : —
" HaU, sacred worthy ! blest in that rich bed.
At once thy Mary and thy Belgia wed :
And long, long live thy fair Britannic bride.
Her Orange and her country's equal pride !"
Having passed the bridge, they were met by four-and-twenty
virgins, who walked two-and-two on each side their high
nesses' coach, singing and strewing green herbs all the way.
When their highnesses came before the town-house, they
passed through a triumphal arch, adorned with foUage and
grotesco work, with the arms of both their highnesses; and
over them two hands, with a Latin motto, thus rendered in
EngUsh : — " 'Wliat halcyon airs this royal Hymen sings !
The olive-branch of peace her dower she brings."
In the evening, Mary was welcomed with a grand display of
fireworks, in which were represented St, George on horse
back, fountains, pyramids, casties, triumphal chariots, Jupiter
and Mars descending from the skies, a Hon, a duck and a
drake (emblematic, we suppose, of dykes and canals), and a

MARY II, 51
variety of other devices, in honour of this auspicious alliance.
The next day the heer Van Ghent, and a variety of other
heers, whose Dutch names would not be of much interest to
British readers, comphmented their highnesses in the name
of the States-General.' Though Mary's chief residence and
principal court in HoUand was at the Hague, yet she had
several other palaces, as Loo, Hounslardyke, and Dieren.
Louis XIV. took the marriage heinously; for many months
he would not be reconcUed to his cousin-german the duke of
York ; " for," wrote he to that prince, " you have given your
daughter to my mortal enemy." This was not the fault of
the duke of York, for lord Dartmouth records an anecdote
that the duke, on first hearing of this marriage, or perhaps
after seeing the tearful agonies of Mary when she heard her
doleful sentence of consignment to her cousin, remonstrated
with his brother by a confidential friend, reminding his
majesty that he had solemnly promised never to give away
Mary without he, her father, gave his full consent to her
marriage. "So I did, it's true, man!" exclaimed Charles,
with his characteristic humour ; " but, odd's-fish I James must
consent to this !" ¦ Life of Mary IL: 169-5,

E 2

MARY II.
QUEEN-REGNANT OP GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.

CHAPTER II.

Convalescence of lady Anne — Her father breaks to her the departure of her
aister — Takes possession of her sister's apartments at St. James's — Death of
her brother — News of the princess of Orange — Relapses into Sunday card-
playing — Attends dissenting preachings — First communion of lady Anne—
Her strange conduct — Anne's favourite lady, Mrs. CornwaUis, banished —
Anne's love for Mrs. ChurchiU — Princess of Orange, her court at the Hague
— Her chapel and Dr. Hooper — Prince of Orange persecutes her religion-
Objects to her books — His unfaithfulness to her — Visit of her step-mother
and lady Anne — IUness of the princess — Her father and his consort visit her
— Her tender parting with them — Her conjugal troubles — ^Princess and the
French ambassador — Princess causes Ken to marry Mary Worth to Zulestein
— Rage of the prince — Insults Dr. Ken — Princess entreats him to stay-
Seclusion of the princess — Residence of the lady Anne at her uncle's court — •
Her prospects of the succession — Suitors — Prince George of Hanover, (George
I.) — His visit to her- — His retreat — Mortifying reports — Her anger — Visits
her father in Scotland — Her love for lord Mulgrave — Marriage of Anne with
prince George of Denmark — Appoints Mrs. ChurchUl to her household —
Lonely Ufe of the princess of Orange — Palace restraint — Mourning on the
anniversary of Charles l.'s death — Insults of her husband — Her grief — Final
subjugation — Enlargement from restraint — Attentions to Monmouth — Her
gaiety — Skates and dances with Monmouth — Death of her uncle, (Charles IL)
— Accession of her father, (James II.) — His letters to her and her husband —
Dr. CoveU's report of the princess's ill-treatment — Deep grief of the princess
— Departure of the princess's favourite maid, Anne Trelawney — Sympathy of
the princess for the suffering French Protestants — Conjugal alarms of the
princess — Solicits body-guards for the prince — Princess's sharp answer to W.
Penn — Prince of Orange requests a pension for her — James II. refuses.
When it was certain that the princess of Orange was safely
across the stormy seas, the duke of York himself undertook to
break to the lady Anne the fact that her sister was actuaUy
gone, which he expected to prove heart-rending to her; per
haps he over-rated the vivacity of the sisterly affection, for the
lady Anne " took the inteUigence very patiently.' He had
daUy visited her in her sick chamber, and had taken the pains
' Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, December 1st.

MARY IL 53
to send from thence messages as if the princess of Orange
were still in England, being apprehensive lest the knowledge
of her departure should give a fatal turn to the malady of
the invalid. The duke might have spared himself the trouble
of his fatherly caution : the lady Anne, being installed in the
superior suite of apartments which her elder sister had en
joyed at St. James's,' was perfectly reconcUed to the decrees
of destiny. " Two days after the return of the royal yacht
which had attended the bride to Holland," writes Dr. Lake,
" the lady Anne went forth of her chamber, aU her servants
rejoicing to see her perfectly recovered." She went directly
to visit her step-mother, the duchess of York, who was not
recovered from her confinement.
The lady Anne had previously requested Dr, Lake to
return thanks to God, in her chamber, for her recovery, and
at this service had given, as her offering, two guineas for
distribution among the poor,' This modest gift, as a thank-
offering for mercies received, is probably an instance of the
very obscure point of the offertory of our church according
to its discipUne before the Revolution, for the princess had
not completed her fourteenth year, and we find, by Dr,
Lake's testimony, that she had not yet communicated. The
day on which she thus religiously celebrated her recovery
was an awful one, for her governess, lady Frances ViUiers,
expired of the same malady from which she was just conva
lescent. Dr. Lake makes no mention of the grief of Anne
for this loss, but merely observes that in the early part of
December aU the court were gossiping as to who should be
the successor of lady Frances ViUiers. The lady Anne ap
peared in a few days, perfectly recovered, at St. James's
chapel. The death of the infant brother, whose birth had so
inopportunely interfered with the sweetness of the Orange
honey-moon, took place on December 12th : his demise ren
dered the princess Mary again heiress-presumptive to the
British throne.
The earliest intelligence from Holland of the princess of
Orange, gave great pain to her anxious but too timid tutor.
Dr. Lake, who thus expresses his concern at her relapse into
¦ Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, Dec. 4th. = Ibid., Dec. lOth.

54 MARY II.
her former evil habit of Sunday card-playing :' " I was very^
sorry to understand that the princess of Orange, since her
being in HoUand, did sometimes play at cards upon the
Sundays, which would doubtless give offence to that people."
He then mentions his efforts to eradicate that bad custom of
the princess in England, which he had thought were suc
cessful, since she had abstained from the wrong he had
pointed out for two years. How soon the princess of Orange
returned to this detestable practice may be judged, since she
only left England the 28th of November, and Dr. Lake
records her Sunday gamblings January 9th, scarcely six
weeks afterwards. He was astonished that she did not re
quire his services as her chaplain in HoUand, or those of
Dr. Doughty. The inveteracy of the prince of Orange as
a gambler,' and the passion of his princess for card-plajdng,
combined with the certainty of the remonstrances of the
church-of-England 'clergymen, might have been the reason.
At first, on account of the enmity of the prince to the
church of England, no chapel was provided, although an
ecclesiastical estabUshment had been stipulated for the prin
cess. Dr. Lloyd, the chaplain, who had accompanied the
princess Mary from England, was recalled by the end of
January; he had greatly displeased the primate of the church
of England, by sanctioning the princess's frequenting a con
gregation of dissenters at the Hague,* It had been more
consistent with his clerical character, if he had induced her
to suppress her Sunday gambling parties. He is said, by
Burnet, to have held a remarkable conversation with the
princess during her voyage from England, when expressing
his surprise to her that her father had suffered her to be
educated out of the pale of the Roman-catholic church. ' She
assured him that her father never attempted in one instance
to shake their religious principles.'*
' Dr. Lake's Diary, Jan. 9tb, previously quoted, at the time when the prin
cess first gave her tutor uneasiness, by falling into this sin at her commencement
of public life.
^ See various passages in Lamberty, who mentions the enormous losses or
gains of his prince at the basset-table, but, IDce most foreigners, without the
slightest idea that such conduct was at the same time evil in itself, and lament
ably pernicious as example to an imitative people like the English.
' Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, Jan. 28. * Burnet's MSS.. Harleian CoL 6584*

MARY II. 55
Just before Easter, the young princess Anne was confirmed
in royal state at the chapel of WhitehaU by her preceptor,
Compton bishop of London : her first communion took place
on Easter- Sunday. Her tutor. Dr. Lake, gives the foUowing
account of the extraordinary manner in which she conducted
herself. " Being Easter-day, for the first time the lady Anne
received the sacrament; the bishop of Exeter preached at
St. James's [chapel], and consecrated. Through negligence,
her highness was not instructed how much to drink, but
drank of it [the cup] thrice ; whereat I was much concerned,
lest the duke of York, her father, should have notice of it." '
The gross negUgence of which Dr. Lake complains, must
have been the fault of Anne's preceptor, Compton bishop of
London, whose thoughts were too busy with polemics to
attend to the proper instruction of his charge. Her un
seemly conduct reflects the greatest possible disgrace on the
prelate, whose duty it was to have prepared her for the
reception of this solemn rite, and on whom a greater degree
of responsibility than ordinary devolved, on account of her
father's unhappy secession from the communion of the
church of England. Dr. Lake was disgusted with the mis
take of the young communicant, — not because it was wrong,
but lest her Roman-cathoUc father should be informed of it.
He was previously troubled at the relapse of the princess of
Orange into her former sins of passing the Sabbath at the
card-table, — not because he aUowed that it was sin, but lest
the Dutch people might be offended at it ! Few persons
have any salutary influence over the hearts and characters
of their feUow- creatures, whose reprehension of wrong does
not spring from loftier motives. Yet he had done his duty
more conscientiously than any other person to whom the
education of these princesses was committed: he had re
proved the bad habits of his pupils sufficiently to give lasting
offence to them. Although he lived to see each of them
queen-regnant, and head of the church, they left him with
as Uttle preferment as he had received from their father and
uncle: had he told them the truth with the unshrinking
firmness of Ken or Sancroft, they could but have done the
• Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, March 31st.

56 MABY U.
same.' Notwithstanding the error into which the young
communicant had faUen,' Dr. Lake wrote to the princess of
Orange, " to inform her that her sister had received the holy
sacrament," as if the lady Anne had conducted herself so as
to edify, instead of disgusting every one. Again he was
blameable, since, if he had mentioned the circumstance he
disUked to the princess, a sister could have reprehended the
unfortunate mistake with deUcacy and affection.
Dr. Hooper was recommended as the princess of Orange's
almoner by the archbishop of Canterbury; he was a primitive
apostoUcal man, greatly attached to the church of England,
according to its discipUne established at the dissemination of
our present translation of Scripture.* On his arrival in Hol
land, he found the princess without any chapel for divine
service; and her private apartments were so confined, that
she had no room that could be converted into one, excepting
' The Diary of Dr. Lake, which has been of such inestimable advantage in
sho\ving the early years of the two regnant queens, Mary and Anne, has been
preserved m MS. by his descendants. Echard has quoted from it, but has
fiilsely garbled it. The author of this biography again returns thanks to Mr.
Eliot and Mr. Merrivale, for fedlitating her access to its contents. According
to a note appended to Mr. EUof s copy. Dr. Edward Lake was bom in 1672,
and was the son of a dei'gyman resident at Exeter: he was a scholar of Wadham
coUege, Oxford. Afterwards, Anthony Wood says, " he migrated to Cambridge,
where he took his d^ree in arts, and received orders." He became chaplain and
tutor to the daughters of the duke of York in 1670. About 1676 he obtained
the archdeaconry of Exeter: he was likewise rector of St. Mary-at-hiU, and St.
Andrew's, in the city. The great mistake of Dr. Lake's life was, reporting a
fiilse accusation against Sancroft, archbishop of Canterburj-, which, according to
his Diary, January 7, 1678, had been communicated to him by Dr. TiUotson, who
was then dean of Canterbury, and the same person whose attentions to the ^•
tressed prince of Orange at Canterbury laid the foundation of his advancement
to the primacy, after the princess of Orange, as ilarr II., had hurled Sancroft
from his archiepiscopal throne. Although Dr. Lake seems to have cu-culated
this scandal, he likewise reports many exceUent traits of Sancroft. Somehow,
he had to bear the whole blame of the wrong.
" Dr. Lake must have given personal offence to his pupils, or they would not
have neglected him: he was not, Uke Ken, among those who reftised to take the
oath of aUegiance to either of them. His calumny on archbishop Sancroft would
not have interfered with his preferment after the deposition of that iUustrious
man, and the assumption of authority over the EngUsh church by his informer.
Dr. TUlotson; yet he died without any preferment, in the reign of Anne, 170t
As he was in possession of his benefices, amaU as they were, he could not have
been a nonjuror.
' Hooper JIS., copied and preserved by Mrs. A. Prouse, bishop Hoopers
daughter ; in the possession of sir John Mordaunt, of Walton, edited by the
hon. A. Trevor. Life of WUUivm III., vol. ii. pp. 465, 466.

MARY II. 57
her dining-room. " Now the prince and princess of Orange
never ate together, for the deputies of the States-General
and their Dutch officers often dined with the prince, and they
were no fit company for her. Therefore the princess, without
regret, gave up her dining-room for the service of the church
of England, and ate her dinner every day in a small and very
dark parlour. She ordered Dr. Hooper to fit up the room
she had relinquished for her chapel : when it was finished, her
highness bade him be sure and be there on a particular after
noon, when the prince intended to come and see what was
done. Dr. Hooper was in attendance, and the prince kept his
appointment. The first thing noticed by the prince was, that
the communion-table was raised two steps, and the chair
where the princess was to sit was near it, on the same dais.
Upon which the prince, bestowing on each a contemptuous
kick, asked 'what they were for?' When he was told their
use, he answered with an emphatic 'Hum!' When the
chapel was fit for service, the prince never came to it but
once or twice on Sunday evenings. The princess attended
twice a-day, being very careful not to make Dr. Hooper
wait." The prince had caused books inculcating the tenets of the
"Dutch dissenters" to be put in the hands of his young
princess; those Dr. Hooper withdrew from her, earnestly
requesting her to be guided by him in her choice of theo
logical authors. "One day the prince entered her apart
ment, and found before her Eusebius, and Dr. Hooker's Ec
clesiastical Polity, which last is allowed to be one of the
grandest literary ornaments of our church. WhUe she was
deeply engaged in one of Hooker's volumes, the prince, in
' great commotion,' said angrily, ' What ! I suppose it is Dr.
Hooper persuades ye to read such books?""
While the married life of the princess of Orange was thus
portentous of future troubles, her sister, the lady Anne of
York, led an easy life at St. James's, her only care being to
strengthen a power which was one day to rule her tyran
nically in the person of her beloved Sarah Jennings. This
young lady declared, in the winter of 1677, that she
• Hooper MS.

58 MARY II.
had been espoused clandestinely to the handsome colonel
ChurchUl, the favourite gentleman of the duke of York.
Sarah was tender in years, but more experienced in world-
craft than many women are of thrice her age; she was, at
the period of her marriage, in the service of the young
duchess of York, — a cfrcumstance which did not prevent
constant intercourse with the lady Anne, who Uved under
the same roof with her father and step-mother. The duchess
of York, at the entreaty of Anne, immediately undertook to
reconcUe aU adverse feelings towards this marriage among
the relatives, both of ChurchiU and Sarah, gi'ring her attend
ant a handsome donation by way of portion, and causing her
to be appointed to a place of trust about her person,' When
Sarah found herself on such firm footing in the household at
St. James's, her first manoeuvre was to get rid of Mrs. Corn
waUis,' the relative of the princess, by whom, it may be
remembered, she was first introduced at court, and who had
hitherto been infinitely beloved by her royal highness. Unfor
tunately in that century, whensoever a deed of treachery was
to be enacted, the performer could always be held irrespon
sible, if he or she could raise a cry of reUgion, Sarah knew,
as she waited on the duchess of York, what ladies in the
palace attended the private Roman-cathoUc chapel permitted
at St. James's for the duchess ; being aware, by this means,
that Mrs. CornwaUis was of that creed, she secretly denounced
her as a papist to bishop Compton, the preceptor of the lady
Anne of York. He immediately procured an order of council
forbidding Mrs. CornwaUis ever to come again into the pre
sence of the young princess. The privy council only acted
prudently in taking this measure, — a circumstance which
does not modify the utter baseness of the first poUtical ex
ploit recorded of the future duchess, Sarah of Marlborough.
The lady Anne of York was now in possession of her adult
estabUshment, at her apartments in her father's palace ; her
aunt, lady Clarendon, was her governess. Barbara VUUers,
• Life of the Duke of Marlborough, by Coxe, vol. i. pp. 20-40. It is dis
tinctly stated that this marri^e took place when Sarah was only fifteen.
2 Lord Dartmouth's Notes to Burnet's Own Times. He gives no" precise
date to this incident, excepting that it is among the current of events at the era
of the death of archbishop Sheldon and the marriage of the pruicess Mary.

MARY II. 59
(the third daughter of her late governess,) now Mrs. Berkeley,
was her first lady, and if the beloved Sarah ChurchUl was not
actually in her service, the princess had, at least, the oppor-
nity of seeing her every day. Anne's affection was not di
rected by Mrs. ChurchiU to any wise or good purpose, for
she made no efforts to complete her own neglected educa
tion ; card-playing, at which she was usuaUy a serious loser,
was the whole occupation of this pair of friends. Leaving
them in pursuit of this worthy object, our narrative returns
to the princess of Orange.
At the Hague, the princess found no less than three palaces.
The first (called the Hague in history) was a grand but rather
rugged gothic structure, built by a count of HoUand in 1250,
moated round on three sides, and washed in front by the
Vyvier, (fish-preserve,) a lake-like sheet of water. This pa
latial castle of the Hague was the seat of the stadtholdship,
and recognised as such by the States-General: here their
several assemblies met, and the business of the repubUc was
transacted in its noble gothic halls. Mary seldom approached
the Hague, excepting on state occasions. She lived at the
Palace in the Wood, a very beautiful residence, about a mile
from the state palace, buUt as a place of retirement by the
grandmother of WilUam III. A noble maU of oak trees,
nearly a mile in length, led to the Palace in the Wood,
which was surrounded by a primeval oak forest, and by the
richest gardens in Europe. The prince of Orange built two
wings to the original structure on the occasion of his mar
riage with the princess Mary. There was, near the Palace of
the Wood, a dower-palace, called the Old Court. The three
palaces were situated only an hour's walk from "the wUd
Scheveling coast." Over one of the moated drawbridges of
the gothic palace is built a gate, called the Scheveling gate,
which opened on a fine paved avenue, bordered with yew trees
carved into pyramids, leading to the sea-viUage of Scheveling.
Every passenger, not a fisherman, paid a smaU toU to keep up
this avenue.'
With the exception of the two VilUers, (who were soon
distinguished by the prince of Orange in preference to his
' Tour in HoUand early in the last century.

60 MARY IL
young wife,) none of the English ladies who had accompanied
the princess to her new home were remarkably weU satisfied
with their destiny. Sir Gabriel Silvius, whose wife was one
of them, gave a dismal account of the unhappiness of the
EngUsh ladies at the Hague. He observed to the resident
envoy of Charles II ., "It is a pity the prince of Orange does
not use people better : as for lady Betty Selboume, she
complains and waUs horribly." ' If all the attendants of the
princess had so comported themselves, her royal highness
need not have been envied. As to what the prince of Orange
had done to lady Betty, we are in ignorance, and can enlighten
our readers no further than the fact of her " horrible wail-
ings." The princess herself was so happy as to have the
protection of lord Clarendon, her uncle, (who was ambassa
dor at the Hague when his niece first arrived there). In
his despatches he says, " The princess parted very unexpec
tedly from her husband on March 1st, 1678. He had been
hunting aU the morning, and as he came home to her palace
at the Hague to dinner, he received letters by the way that
occasioned his sudden departure, of which the princess said
' she had not the sUghtest previous intimation.' It was the
investment of Namur by the king of France that caused his
departure. The princess accompanied her husband as far as
Rotterdam, " where," says her uncle Clarendon, " there was
a very tender parting on both sides;" at the same time he
observes, " that he never saw the prince in such high spirits
or good humour."
The princess of Orange chose to make the tour of her
watery dominions by way of the canals in her barge, when
she amused herself with needlework, or played at cards with
her ladies, as they were tiacked along the canals, or saUed
over the broads and lakes. Dr, Hooper accompanied her in
the barge, and when she worked, she always requested him
to read to her and her ladies. One day she wished him to
read a French book to her, but he excused himself on account
of his defective pronunciation of French, The princess
begged him to read on, nevertheless, and she would teU him
when he was wrong, or at a loss. Hooper says, " that while
» Sidney Diary, edited by R. W. Bkncowe, esq., vol. i, p. 41.

MARY IL 61
he was in her household, about a year and a half, he never
heard her say or saw her do any one thing that he could
have wished she had not said or done." She was then only
between sixteen and seventeen. " She did not distinguish
any of her ladies by particular favour, and though very
young, was a great observer of etiquette, never receiving any
thing or any message from persons whose office it was not to
deUver the same. She had great command over her women,
and maintained her authority by her prudence ; if there was
any conversation she did not approve, they read by her grave
look that they had transgressed, and a dead silence ensued." '
The princess suffered much from iU-health in HoUand,
before she was accUmatized to the change of air. Dm-ing
the same summer, she was in danger of her life from a severe
bUious fever: the prince of Orange was then absent from her
at the camp. When a favourable crisis took place, sir Wil
Uam Temple travelled to him, and brought the intelUgence
that the princess was recovering ; he hkewise gave the prince
information that the last instalment of her portion, 20,000^.,
would be paid to him speedUy. The good news, eithfer
of his wife or of her cash, caused the prince to manifest
unusual symptoms of animation, " for," observes sir WiUiam
Temple,' "I have seldom seen him appear so bold or so
pleasant." Mary, though ultimately childless, had more than once
a prospect of being a mother. Her disappointment was
announced to her anxious father, who immediately wrote to
his nephew, the prince of Orange, to urge her " to be care-
fuUer of herself;" and added, "he would write to her for the
same purpose:" this letter is dated April 19, 1678. Soon
after, Mary again had hopes of bringing an heir or heiress
to Great Britain and Holland, If lord Dartmouth may be
beUeved, Mary's father had been purposely deceived in both
instances, to answer some poUtical scheme of the prince of
Orange. Mary was then too young and too fond of her
father to deceive him purposely ; her heart, indeed, was not
> Hooper MS.
2 Letter to lord Clarendon from the Hague, by sir W. Temple.

62 MARY IL
estranged from him and from her own family for the want
of opportunity of affectionate intercourse. After her reco
very from typhus or bUious fever, an intermittent hung long
upon her : her father thought it best to send his wife, Mary
Beatrice, with the princess Anne, to see her, and to cheer
her spirits. The visit of these princesses was thus announced
to her husband by her father, who was about to accom
pany his brother, Charles IL, to the October Newmarket
meeting : —
"James Ditee ov Yobk to Wiiliam Pbinob of OEAjfaE.'
" London, Sept. 27, 1678.
"We^ came hither on Wednesday last, and are preparing to go to Newmarket
the beginning of next week, the parliament being prorogued tUl the 21st of next
month. WhUst we shaU be out of town, the duchess and my daughter Anne
intend to make your wife a visit very incognito, and have yet said nothing of it
to any body here but bis majesty, whose leave they asked, and wUl not mention
it till the post be gone. They carry Uttle company with them, and sent this
bearer, Robert 'Wbite, before, to see to get a house for them as near your court
as they can. They intend to stay only whilst we shall be at Newmarket.
"I was very glad to see by the last letters, that my daughter continued so
well, and hope now she wiU go out her fuU time. I have written to her to be
very careftd of herself, and that she would do weU not to stand too long, for
that is very iU for a young woman in her state.
" The incognito ladies intend to set out from hence on Tuesday next, if the
wind be fair; they have bid me teU you they desire to be very incognito, and
they have lord Ossory for their governor, [escort]. I have not time to say
more, but only to assure you, that I shaU always be very kind to you."
indorsed — " For my son, the Prince of Orange."
Accordingly, the duchess of York and the princess Anne,
attended by the chivafric Ossory as their escort, set out from
WhitehaU on October J^, 1678, to visit the princess of
Orange at the Hague, where they arrived speedUy and safely.
The prince received them with the highest marks of distinc
tion; and as for the excessive affection with which Mary
met her step-mother and sister, aU her contemporary biogra
phers dweU on it as the principal incident of her Ufe ia
HoUand. The caresses she lavished on the lady Anne
amounted to transport when she first saw her.* At that era
of unbroken confidence and kindness, Mary and her step
mother were the best of friends. She was given a pet name
in her own family, and the duchess addressed her by it : as
' Dalrymple, vol. ii. p. 201. Found in king William's box, at Kensington.
' Himself and king Charles. ' Life of Mary II. : 1695.

MARY II. 63
the prince was "the orange," Mary, in contradistinction,
was "the lemon;" and "my dear lemon," was the term
with which most of her step-mother's letters began, until the
Revolution.' The lady Anne and the duchess stayed but a few days with
the princess, as the duke of York announces their safe return,
October 18th, in his letter of thanks to "his son, the prince
of Orange," for his hospitality.' The princess of Orange
saw much of her father and family in the succeeding year,
which was the time of his banishment on account of his
reUgion. When he came to the Hague in March 1679, he
met with a most affectionate welcome from his daughter, and
with great hospitality from his nephew, her husband. The
princess melted into tears when she saw her father, and was
full of the tenderest condolences on the mournful occasion of
his visit. She was stUl suffering from the intermittent fever,
which hung on her the whole of that year.
Her father, the duke of York, wrote thus to her uncle,
Lawrence Hyde, from the Hague, in the April of the same
year. In the midst of his anxiety regarding the proceedings
in England, he made the Ul-health of his daughter Mary the
subject of several letters : —
" My daughter's ague-fit continues stiU; her eleventh fit is now upon her,
but, as the cold fit is not so long as usual, I have hopes it is a-going off. I am
caUed away to supper, so that 1 can say no more but that you shall always find
me as much your fi-iend as ever."
In a letter to the prince of Orange, he says, —
" I am exceedingly glad that my daughter has missed her ague : I hope she
wUl have no more now the warm weather has come." In another, " he rejoices
that her journey to Dieren has cm-ed her."
In June, her father again laments the continuance of her
ague. Dieren was a hunting-palace belonging to the prince
of Orange, where Henry Sidney, soon after, found the prin
cess, the prince, and their court. He was sent envoy from
Charles II. to WilUam, "whom," he says, "I found at
Dieren, in an ill house, but a fine countiy. The prince
took me up to his bedchamber, where he asked me ques-
• Birch MS., and sir Henry EUis's Historical Letters, first Series, vol. in.
» AU other particulars of this visit have been detailed in the preceding
volume, pp. 79-81 j Life of Mary Beatrice of Modena.

64 MARY IT.
tions, and I informed him of every thing, much to his satis
faction."' The news that gave so much satisfaction, was
the agitation in England respecting the Popish Plot, con
ducted by Titus Gates. Sidney dined at Dieren with the
princess, and found at her table lady Inchiquin, who was
first lady of the bedchamber: she was one of the ViUiers
sisterhood, under whose noxious influence at her own court
the peace of the EngUsh princess was withering.
The prince of Orange was one day discussing the Popish
Plot, and observing that Dr. Hooper was by no means of
his mind, for that divine did not conceal his contempt for
the whole machination, the prince subjoined, "Well, Dr.
Hooper, you wUl never be a bishop." Every day widened
the differences between Dr. Hooper and the prince of
Orange, who was ever inimical to the church-of-England
service; and this Dr. Hooper would never compromise by
any undue compliance. The prince of Orange, in conse
quence, was heard to say, " that if ever he had any thing
to do with England, Dr. Hooper should remain Dr. Hooper
still." When this divine wished to return to England, to
fulfil his marriage-engagement with Mr. Guildford's daugh
ter, (a lady of an old cavalier family resident at Lambeth,
greatly esteemed by archbishop Sheldon,) the princess was
alarmed, fearing he would leave her, and never return to
Holland. Her royal highness told him, "that he must
prevail with his lady to come to Holland." He promised
that he would do his best to induce her to come. The
princess was obeyed; but she was not able to procure for
Mrs. Hooper the most hospitable entertainment in the world.
Dr. Hooper had always taken his meals with the ladies of
the bedchamber and the maids of honour of the princess,
and his wife was invited by her royal highness to do the
same ; but weU knowing the great economy of the prince,
and his general dislike to the EngUsh, Dr. Hooper never
once suffered his wife to eat at his expense, and he himself
left off dining at the prince's table, always taking his meals
with his wife at their own lodging, which was very near the
' Diary and Correspondence of Henry Sidney, edited by E. W. Blencowe, esq.

MART II. 65
court. This conduct of Dr. Hooper resulted whoUy from
his sense of the griping meanness of William. " The prince,
nevertheless, had been heard to say, ' that as he had been
told that Mrs. Hooper was a very fine woman, he should
Uke to salute her, and welcome her to HoUand.' It was a
great jest among the women of the princess, to hear the
prince often speak of a person in the service of their mis
tress, and yet months passed away without his speaking to
her, or knowing where she was. Dr. Hooper must have
been a man of fortune, since he spent upwards of 2000/.,
when in the service of the princess, in books and Unen.
The Dutch, who keep their clergy very poor, were amazed,
and called him ' the rich papa.' The other chaplain was a
worthy man, but unprovided with independent subsistence
in England, little doubting that he should have a hand
some stipend paid him, though the prince mentioned no
particulars. He was never paid a farthing ; and having run
in debt, he died of a broken heart in prison. Dr, Hooper
only received a few pounds for nearly two years' attendance,
— ' a specimen of Dutch generosity,' observes his relative,
' of which more instances wiU be given."" The princess had
4000/, per annum for her expenses, a very different revenue
from the noble one we shall see allowed to her youngest
sister by her uncle and father. Part of this sum was lost
to her by the difference of exchange, about 200/. per
annum. The lady Anne accompanied her father in his next visit
to the Hague, During his exUe in Brussels, he had de
manded of his brother Charles II, that his children should
be sent to him ; after some demur, the lady Anne and her
half-sister, the little lady IsabeUa, were permitted to embark
on board the Greenwich frigate, in the summer of 1679.
The lady Anne did not leave Brussels until after September
20, which is the date of a gossiping letter she wrote to her
> Trevor's Life of William III. Hooper's MS., vol. u. p. 470. Dr. Hooper's
daughter notes, that at this time the princess Anne came to the Hague iU of the
ague. It was an awkward place to cure an ague, and we think she must mean
that the princess of Orange had the ague, which wo see by the letters of her
father above was actuaUy the case.
VOL, VII. ]?

66 MARY n.
friend lady Apsley,' in England, Although the spelling and
construction of her royal highness are not to be vaunted for
their correctness, the reader can understand her meaning
well enough; and this early letter, the only one preserved
of Anne before her marriage, gives more actual information
regarding the domesticity of her father's family in his exile
than can be gleaned elsewhere. Brussels, it must be re
membered, was then under the crown of Spain, therefore
the festivities the princess witnessed were in honour of the
marriage of their sovereign with her young cousin, Maria
Louisa of Orleans, with whom she had in chUdhood been
domesticated at St. Cloud and the Palais-Royal.
" Pbincess Anne ov Yoke to Ladt Apsi;ET,2
(wipe op sie Alien Apsley).
[2%e commencement of the letter consists of excuses for not writing sooner.']
" Bruxelles [Brussels], Sept. 20.
"I was to see a lall [I have been to see a baU] at the court, incognito, which
I Ukede very weU; it was in very good order, and some danc'd weU enought;
indeed, there was prince Vodenunt that danc'd extreamly well, as weU if not
better than ethere the duke of Monmouth or sir E. VilUers,' which I think is
very exirordinary. Last night, again, I was to see fyer works and bonfyers,
which was to celebrate the king of Spain's weding; they were very weU worth
seeing indeed. AU the people hear are very sivil, and except you be otherways
to them, they wiU be so to you. As for the town, it is a great fine town. Me-
thinks, tho, the streets are not so clean as they are in Holland, yet they are not
so dirty as ours; they are very weU paved, and very easy, — they onely have od
smeUs. My sister Issabella's lodgings and mine are much better than I expected,
and so is all in this place. For our lodgings, they wear all one great room, and
now are divided with board into severaU.
" My sister IssabeUa has a good bedchamber, with a chimney in it. There
is a little hole to put by things, and between her room and mine there is an in-
diferent room without a chimney; then mine is a good one with a chimney,
which was made a purpose for me. I have a closet and a place for my trunks,
and ther's [there is] a Uttle place where our women dine, and over that such
anotbere. I doubt I have quite tirde out your patience, so that I wiU say no
more, onely beg you to beUeve me to be, what I realy am and wUl be,
"Your very affectionate /reirefZe,
" Pray remember me very kindly to sir AUin." Anne.
1 Lady Apsley was the mother of lady Bathnrst, the wife of sir Benjamin
Bathurst, treasurer of the household to the princess Anne. Lady Bathurst was
probably placed in the service of princess Anne, as she mentions her as one of
her earliest friends in a letter wiitten when queen, in 1705.
2 Holograph, the original being in the possession of the noble family of Bath
nrst, the descendants of that of Apsley. The author has been favoured by the
kindness of lady Georgiana Bathurst with a copy of this inedited letter of Anne.
' WeU known to the readers of these biographies as the brother of EUzabeth

MARY II. 67
Her little sister Isabella was her companion on the voyage,
being scarcely three years old,— a lovely infant, the daughter
of the duke of York and Mary Beatrice. The satisfaction
¦with which Anne enters into the detail of her baby sister's
accommodation at Brussels, even to the possession of a hole
to put things in, is characteristic of her disposition. There
is no kind mention of her infant companion, or indeed of
any one but sir AUen Apsley; yet the greatest affection
seemed to prevail among the family of the duke of York
at this period.
The princess of Orange was again visited by her father at
the end of September, 1679, accompanied by his wife, her
mother the duchess of Modena, and the lady Anne.' Colo
nel and Mrs. ChurchiU were both in attendance on their
exiled master and mistress in the Low Countries; and it
miist have been on this series of visits that the princess of
Orange' and Mrs. Churchill took their well known antipathy
to each other, for neither the princess nor the lady had had
any previous opportunities for hatred, at least as adults.
When her father and his family departed, the princess of
Orange, with her husband, bore them company as far as the
Maesland sluice. She parted with her father in an agony of
tears, and took tender and oft-repeated fareweUs of hind, his
consort, and her sister. Her father she never again beheld.
At that period of her life, Mary did not know, and probably
would have heard with horror of all the intrigues her hus
band was concocting with the Sidneys, Sunderlands, RusseUs,
Gates, and Bedloes, for hurling her father from his place in
the succession. Documentary evidence, whatever general
history may assert to the contrary, proves that this conduct
of her husband was ungrateful, because he had received vital
support from his relatives in England at a time when he must
have been for ever crushed beneath the united force of the
party in HoUand adverse to his re-establishment as stadthol-
ViUiers, and master of the horse to the princess of Orange, and afterwards as
lord lersev. • Roger Coke's Detection, vol, iii. p. 119.
" Letter of the princess Anne, in 1687, commencing with her regrets for tho
bad opinion that her sister had of " lady Churchill."
F 2

68 MARY II.
der, and the whole might of France. Long before the mar
riage of WilUam of Orange with the heiress of Great Britain,
the ambition of his party of Dutchmen had anticipated for
him the throne of Charles II. : to this result they considered
that a prophecy of Nostradamus tended. In order that the
English might consider the prince of Orange in that Ught,
an anonymous letter was sent to sir WUliam Temple at
Nimeguen, where he was staying in 1679, negotiating the
peace which was concluded between HoUand and France, or
rather Spain and France. It would have been difficult for
any one but a partisan to discover a prophecy in this qua
train, at least beyond the first line :' —
" Ne sous les ombres journ^e nocturne.
Sera en gloire et souverain bonte ;
Fera renaistre le sang de I'antique urne,
Et changera en or le sifecle d'airain."
' Bom under the shade of a nocturnal day, he wUl be glorious and supremely
good; in him wdll be renewed the ancient blood, and he wiU change an
age of brass into one of gold.'
The Dutch partisan who sent this prophecy for the edifica
tion of the English ambassador, likewise favoured him with ¦
expounding the same. The explanation was, " That the
prince of Orange being ' born under the shades of a noctur
nal day,' was verified by the time of his birth a few days
after the untimely death of his father; his mother beiag
plunged in the deepest grief of mourning, and the light of a
November-day excluded from her apartments, which were
hung with black, and only illumined by melancholy lamps.
' Renewing the ancient urn of blood ' was, by the descent of
the prince from Charlemagne through the house of Lou-
vaine." The rest of the speU aUuded to the personal virtues
of the prince of Orange, and the wonderful happiness Great
Britain would enjoy in possessing him. The gold and the
brass were perhaps verified by his contriving dexterously, by
means of the Dutch system of finance, to obtain possession
by anticipation of all the gold of succeeding generations, to
enrich his age of brass.
' Sir W. Temple's Works, voL u. pp. 472, i73.

MARY II. 69
The princess of Orange seemed much recovered at Dieren.
Sidney wrote to her father, that he could scarcely beUeve she
wanted any remedies ; nevertheless, it was her intention to
visit the baths of Aix-la-ChapeUe.' A day was appointed for
her journey. Her husband placed her under the care of his
favourite physician Dr. Drelincourt of Leyden, (son to the
weU-known Calvinist author on "Death"). This physician
traveUed with the princess to Aix, and returned with her.'
He was the Leyden professor of medicine, and at the head of
the medical estabUshment of the court till 1688. Meantime,
the conduct of the princess of Orange's maids of honour at
the Hague caused no Uttle surprise: they certainly took
extraordinary Uberties, if the description of their friend Mr.
Sidney may be trusted. " The princess's maids are a great
comfort to me," wrote Sidney to Hyde : " on Sunday they
invited me to dinner. Pray let Mrs. Frazer know that the
maids of the princess of Orange entertain foreign ministers,
which is more, I think, than any of the queen's do."* It
was to the conduct of these very hospitable damsels that the
fluctuating health and early troubles of the princess of Orange
may be attributed. The preference which the prince of
Orange manifested for Elizabeth ViUiers was the canker of
the princess's peace, from her marriage to the grave. This
connexion, however scandalous it pi^j be, is not matter of
slander, but of documentary histoiy/,''
Scandal involved the name of WiUiam of Orange very
shamefuUy with Anne ViUiers, the sister of EUzabeth, after
she was madame Bentinck. Altogether, it may be judged
how strong were the meshes woven round the poor princess
by this famUy cUque. These companions of the princess's
youth naturaUy possessed in themselves the species of autho
ritative influence over her mind which they derived from
being the daughters of her governess, aU somewhat older
than herself. When it is remembered that the head of the
clique was the mistress of her husband, and that the next in
» Sidney Diary, voL i. p. 45, « Biographia Britannica.
' Sidney Diary, vol. i. pp. 55, 62, The queen ia Catharme of Braganza.
* Shrewsbury Correspondence, edited by archdeacon Coxe.

70 MARY IL
age and influence became the wife of his favourite minister of
state, the case of Mary of England seems sufficiently pitia
ble : when she married WiUiam of Orange, her age was not
sixteen years ; he was twenty-seven, and her bold rival was
nineteen or twenty, or perhaps older. A dread of insult soon
produced in the mind of the princess that close reserve and
retreat within herself, which, even after her spirit was utterly
broken, often perplexed her astute husband, at a time when
their views and feelings regarding the deposition of her father
were unanimous.
A diplomatist became resident at the Hague after the
peace with France of 1678, whose despatches to his own
court contain some inteUigence concerning the domestic hfe
led by the princess of Orange and her husband. This person
was the marquess d'Avaux, ambassador from Louis XIV. —
not exactly to the prince of Orange, but to the States of
HoUand. The oddest stories are afloat relative to this official
and the princess of Orange. One written by Sidney to sir
LeoUne Jenkins is as foUows : " AU the discourse we have
here, December 3rd, 1680, is of what happened a-Wednesday
night at court. The French ambassador had, in the morn
ing, sent word to monsieur Odyke, [one of the officials in the
household of the princess,] that he intended waiting on the
princess that evening. He [Odyke] forgot to give notice of
it; so that the princess sat down, as she uses to do, about
eight o'clock, to play at la basset." This was a game at
cards, played with a bank, in vogue through aU the courts of
Europe. Vast sums were lost and won at basset, and royal
personages sat down to play at it with as rigorous forms of
etiquette as if it had been a solemn duty.' "A quarter of
an hour after the princess had commenced her game, the
French ambassador came in. She rose, and asked him if he
would play. He made no answer, and she sat down again,
when the ambassador, looking about, saw a chair with arms
in the corner, which he drew for himself and sat down. After
• Basset succeeded prunero, the game of queen EUzabeth, and prev^ed
through the reign of queen Anne, though somewhat rivaUed by ombre and
quadiiUe.

MARY II.- 71
a little while, he rose and went to the table to play. The
prince of Orange came in, and did also seat him to play."
Rational people wUl suppose, so far, that there ^as no great
harm done on either side. According to strict etiquette, as
the announcement had been sent of the visit of the ambas
sador d'Avaux, the basset-tables should not have been set till
his arrival; and it would be supposed that a five minutes'
lounge in an arm-chair, opportunely discovered in a corner,
was no very outrageous atonement for the neglected dignity
of the representative of Louis XIV.; but, alas ! arm-chairs
in those days were moveables of consequence, portentous of
war or peace. "Next day," Sidney added, "the French
ambassador told his friends, confidentially, that his behaviour
was not to be wondered at, for he had positive orders from
his master, Louis XIV., 'that whensoever the princess sat in
a great arm-chair, he should do so too ; and that if there was
but one in the room, he should endeavour to take it from the
princess, and sit in it himself!'"^
This climax of the letter is, we verUy believe, a romaunt
of Henry Sidney's own compounding, for the purpose of
mystifying the credulity 6f that most harmless man, sir
Leoline Jenkins. Sidney hoped that he would go gossiping
with this important nothing to the duke of York, who would
forthwith vindicate his daughter, by resenting an offence
never dreamed of by that politest of mortals, Louis XIV.
Thus a smaU matter of mischief might be fomented between
the courts of England and France, for the benefit of that
of Orange. Louis XIV., it is well known, considered that
homage was due to the fair sex, even in the lowest degree ;
for if he met his own housemaids in his palace, he never
passed them without touching his hat. Was it credible that
he could direct his ambassador, the representative of his own
poUte person, to take away an arm-chair, by fraud or force,
from a princess, and sit in it himself in her presence ? And
Mary was not only a princess, but a young and pretty woman,
and cousin, withal, (but one degree removed,) to his own sa
cred self ! Sir Leoline Jenkins might beUeve the report, but
' Sidney Diary, edited by Mr. Blencowe, voL ii. pp. 141, 142.

72 MARY II.
probabiUty rejects it. If sir Leoline had been ambassador
to the court of HoUand in an age less diaboUcal, his venera
tion and honest loyalty would not have impaired his character
for sagacity. He had risen from the lowly estate of a charity
boy, by his learning and integrity, to a high situation in the
ecclesiastical courts : he belonged to the reformed catholic
church of England, and had old-fashioned ideas of devoting
to the poor proportionate sums in good works, according to
his prosperity. Moreover, he kept himself from presumptu
ous sins, by hanging on high in his stately mansion, in daUy
sight of himself and his guests, the veritable leathern gar
ments which he wore when he trudged from Wales to Lon
don, a poor, wayfaring orphan, with two groats in his pockets.'
On the warm affections of a person so primitive, the prince of
Orange and his tool, Sidney, played most shamefuUy. The
phlegmatic prince's letters grew warm and enthusiastic in his
fiUal expressions towards the duke of York. " I am obUged
to you," wrote William of Orange' to sir Leoline, " for con
tinuing to inform me of what passes in England, but I am
grieved to learn with what animosity they proceed against
the duke of York. God bless him ! and grant that the king
and his parUament may agree." How could the ancient
adherent of the EngUsh royal famUy beUeve, that the dis
sensions in England and the animosity so tenderly lamented
were at the same time fostered by the writer of this fihal
effusion ! which looks especiaUy ugly and deceitful, sur
rounded as it is by documents proving that the prince of
Orange should either have left off his intrigues against his
uncle and father-in-law, or have been less fervent in his
benedictions. But these benedictions were to deceive the
old loyalist into beUeving, that when he wrote inteUigence
to the prince, he was writing to his master's friend and affec
tionate son.
The extraordinary conduct of the maids of honour of the
princess of Orange has been previously shown; they gave
• Aubrey.
2 Letter of the piince of Orange to sir LeoUue Jenkins; Sidney Diary, voL a.
p. 126 : likewise Dalrymple's Appendix,

MARY II, 73
parties of pleasure to the ministers of sovereigns resident at
the Hague, at which the political intriguante, EUzabeth VU
Uers, reaped harvests of inteUigence for the use of her em
ployer, the prince of Orange, to whom these ambassadors
were not sent, but to the States of HoUand. These damsels,
therefore, were spies, who reported to the prince what the
ambassadors meant to transact with the States, and these
services were considered valuable by a crooked politician,
Anne VUUers' affairs prospered at these orgies, for she ob
tained the hand of the favourite minister of the prince of
Orange, at some period between 1679 and 1685 ; but Mary
Worth, the coUeague of this sisterhood, was involved in
grievous disgrace, which occasioned serious trouble to the
princess. The girl's reputation had been compromised by
the attentions of a Dutch Adonis of the court, count Zulestein,
iUegitimate son of the grandfather of the prince of Orange.
Zulestein was one of the prince's favourites ; although this
nobleman had given Mary Worth a solemn promise of mar
riage, he perfidiously refused to fulfil it, and was encouraged
in his cruelty by the prince, his master. The princess was
grieved for the sufferings of her wretched attendant, but she
dared not interfere farther than consulting her almoner, Dr.
Ken, on this exigence. And here it is necessary to inter
polate, that a third change had taken place in the head of
the church-of-England chapel at the Hague; the prince of
Orange being exceedingly inimical to Dr. Hooper, he had
resigned, and Dr. Ken, in 1679, accepted this uneasy pre
ferment out of early affection and personal regard for the
princess, and in hopes of inducing her to adhere to the prin
ciples of the church of England,' without swerving to the
practice of the Dutch dissenters, who exaggerated the fatalism
of their founder, and repudiated aU rites with rigour. The
only creed to which the prince of Orange vouchsafed the
least attention, was that of the Brownists, who united with
their fataUst doctrines a certain degree of Socinianism. The
princess of Orange, it has been shown, before the arrival of
Dr. Hooper, had been induced to attend the worship of this
» Bio. Brit., and Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, previously quoted in January 1678..

74 MARY II.
sect,' to the great grief of the divines of the church of Eng
land. Dr. Ken prevailed on the princess to remain steady
to the faith in which she had been baptized; he was, in con
sequence, detested by the prince of Orange stiU more than
his predecessor. The prince saw, withal, that he was the
last person to gloss over his ill-treatment of his wife.
When the princess consulted Dr. Ken regarding the cala
mitous case of the fraU Mary Worth, he immediately, with
out caring for the anticipated wrath of the prince of Orange,
sought an interview with count Zulestein, and represented to
him the turpitude and cruelty of his conduct to the unfortu^
nate girl in such moving terms, that Zulestein, who, though
profligate, was not altogether reprobate, at the end, of the
exhortation became penitent, and requested the apostolic
man to marry him to Mary as soon as he pleased. A few
days afterwards the prince of Orange went on business to
Amsterdam; the princess then called aU the parties con
cerned about her, and Ken married the lovers, Zulestein and
Mary Worth, in her chapel. The rage of the prince on his
return, when he found his favourite kinsman fast bound in
marriage, without possibility of retracting, was excessive ; he
scolded and stormed at the princess, and railed violently at
Dr, Ken, who told him he was desirous of leaving his court
and returning to England. The tears and entreaties of the
princess, who begged Dr. Ken not to desert her, gave a more
serious turn to the affair than the prince liked, who, at last,
alarmed at the effect the quarrel might have in England,
joined with her in entreating Ken to stay with her another
year. Dr. Ken reluctantly complied; he was thoroughly
impatient of witnessing the iU-treatment he saw the princess
suffer,' nor could he withhold remonstrance. " Dr. Ken was
• Dr. Lake's MS. Diary, and Biography of Dr. Ken in Bio. Brit. Dr. Ken
was the bosom friend of Hooper; by descent. Ken was a gentleman of ancient
Saxon lineage, born at Ken-place, Somersetshire, He devoted himself with
love to our reformed church. His sister married the illustrious haberdasher,
Isaac Walton, who aUudes to her in his beautiful lines on Sprmg : —
" There see a blackbird tend its young.
There hear my Kenna sing a song."
" Sidney Papers and Diai-y, edited by Mr. Blencowe, vol, u. pp. 19-26, and
Memoir of Dr. Ken, in Biograpliia Britannica.

MARY .n. 75
with me," wrote Sidney in his journal of March the 21st,
1680 ; " he is horribly unsatisfied with the prince of Orange.
He thinks he is not kind to his wife, and he is determined
to speak to him about it, even if he kicks him out of doors." '
Again, about a month afterwards the journal notes, " Sir
Gabriel Sylvius and Dr. Ken were both here, and both
complain of the prince, especially of his usage of his wife ;
they think she is sensible of it, and that it doth greatly
contribute to her iUness. They are mightUy for her going
to England, but they think he wiU never consent.'" Sidney
being an agent and favourite of the prince of Orange, it is not
probable that he exaggerated his iU conduct. And as for
sir Gabriel Sylvius, he was one of his own Dutchmen, who
had married a young lady of the Howard famUy — a ward of
Evelyn, at the time of the wedlock of the prince and princess
of Orange.* Lady Anne Sylvius soon after foUowed the
princess to HoUand, and became one of her principal ladies.
King Charles II. gave lady Anne Sylvius the privilege and
rank of an earl's daughter, as she was grand-daughter to the
earl of Berkshire. She was extremely attached to the royal
family of Great Britain, in which the good Dutchman, her
elderly but most loving spouse, participated : he seems to
have been a primitive character, of the class of sir Leoline
Jenkins, his contemporary.*
In the paucity of events to vary the stagnation of existence
in which the young beautiful Mary of England was doomed
to mope away the flower of her days in Holland, the circum
stance of her laying the first stone of WiUiam's new brick
palace at Loo afforded her some Uttle opportunity of enacting
her part in the drama of royalty, that part which nature had
so eminently fitted her to perform with grace and majesty.
The erection of this palace, the decorations, together with the
• Sidney Papers and Diary, edited by Mr. Blencowe, vol. u. pp. 19-26, and
Memoir of Dr. Ken, in Biographia Britannica.
'^ Ibid. » Evelyn's Diary.
* Sir Gabriel Sylvius had not the honour of participation in the bosom-secrets
of the prince of Orange, although ambassador to England. Sir WiUiam Temple
quoted, one day, an opinion of sir Gabriel Sylvius. "God!" exclaimed the
prince of Orange, " do you think I would let Sylvius know more of my mind
than I could teU my coachman p"

76 MARY II.
laying out of the extensive gardens and pleasure-grounds, af-
forded Mary some amusement and occupation. On the east
side were the apartments devoted to her use, since called
' the queen's suite,' although she never went to Holland after
her accession to the British crowns. Under the windows of
these was her garden, with a noble fountain in the centre,
caUed 'the queen's garden.' This garden led into another,
with a labyriuth, adorned with many statues. Behind the
palace she had her voliere, or poultry-garden, from which it
appears that she beguiled her dulness in HoUand by rearing
various kinds of fowls, especiaUy those of the aquatic species,
for which the canals and tanks of Loo were so well fitted.
Beyond the park was the vivier, a large quadrangular pond,
which supplied aU the fountains, jets, and cascades that
adorned the gardens. Near this was the garden of Fauns,
with divers pleasant long green walks ; and west of the vivier
was situated a fine grove for solitude, where Mary occasion-
aUy walked, since caUed in memory of her, "the queen's
grove." WiUiam had also his wing of the palace, openiag
into his private pleasaunce and his voliere : it was to render
it more like this Dutch palace that Hampton-Court, the royal
abode of the Tudor and Stuart sovereigns, was disfigured and
puUed to pieces to decorate Loo. WUUam is accused of
plundering Windsor of some of the pictures with which the
fine taste and munificence of his predecessors had adorned
them.' Mary's palace-seclusion, at this period of her Ufe, must
have been a matter of notoriety, since one of her contem
porary biographers, whose labours (and very laborious they
must have been) consist of mere panegyric without incident,
thinks fit, thus cautiously, to apologize for it : — " Though
the princess of Orange behaved with aU possible condescen
sion to the wives of the burgomasters, and the other ladies,
yet she never forgot her own high birth so far as to enter
into familiarity with them, it being regarded by her as an
' A description of WUUara's palace at Loo was written, at Mary's desire, by
his majesty's physician, Walter Harris; but it was not finished tUl after her
death, when it was published m a pamphlet form, decorated with a view of this
heavy and expensive buUding, and its formal gardens.

MARY II. 'n
inviolable point of etiquette, neither to make visits nor con
tract intimacies with any of them. The narrowness of the
circle to which she was thus confined, rendered her recluse
and soUtary in her own court, and took from her a great part
of the grandeur, state, and homage to which she had been
accustomed in her uncle's court." ' How weary such a Ufe
must have been to a girl in her teens, accustomed to aU the
gaieties of the most fascinating court in Europe, and aU the
endearments of domestic ties, we may suppose, disappointed
as she was in her hopes of maternity, and neglected in her
first bloom of beauty for one of her attendants by her taciturn
and unfaithful husband. No wonder that Mary's health
gave way, and the journals, written by EngUsh residents at
the Hague, prognosticated an early death for the royal
flower, who had been reluctantly torn from the happy home
of her youth to be transplanted to an ungenial cUmate.
Years, in fact, elapsed before Mary of England's home affec
tions and filial duties were sufficiently effaced to aUow her to
become an accompUce in the utter ruin of the father who
tenderly loved her. From the year 1680 to 1684 the events
of her Ufe in HoUand, together with life itself, stagnated as
dismaUy as the contents of the canals around her : aU the
evidence concerning her goes to prove, that her seclusion
was Uttle better than the palace-restraint which was caUed
captivity in the days of her ancestresses, Eleanora of Aqui-
taine and IsabeUa of Angouleme. WhUe this mysterious
retirement was endured by her in HoUand, life was opening
to her young sister Anne, and many important events had
befallen her.
The lady Anne did not accompany her father the duke of
York, and her step-mother Mary Beatrice, in their first jour
ney to Scotland : her estabUshment continued at St, James's,
or Richmond, She bore the duchess of York company on
her land-journey to the north as far as Hatfield, and then re
turned to her uncle's court,' WhUst the bUl for excluding
' The Life of our late gracious Queen Mary; published 1695.
^ R. Coke. For particulars of her abode in Scotland, see the previous volmne.
Life of Mary Beatrice, pp. 100-105.

78 MARY IL
her father from the succession was agitating the country and
parliament, perhaps the first seeds of ambition were sown in
the bosom of Anne, for she was generally spoken of and re
garded as the ultimate heiress to the throne. Many intrigues
regarding her marriage' occupied the plotting brain of her
chUdless brother-in-law, WUUam of Orange, The hereditary
prince of Hanover, afterwards George I,, paid first a long vi
sit at the Hague at the close of the year 1680, and then ap
peared at the court of Charles II. as a suitor for the hand of
the lady Anne of York, Although William affected the most
confidential affection for this young prince, he was racked
with jealousy lest he should prosper in his wooing, — not per
sonal jealousy of his sister-in-law, whom he abhorred, but he
feared that the ambition of the hereditary prince of Hanover
should be awakened by his proximity to the British throne,
if he were brought still nearer by wedlock with the lady
Anne. The case would then stand thus : If George of Han
over married Anne of York, and the princess of Orange
died first, without offspring, (as she actually did,) WiUiam of
Orange would have had to give way before their prior claims
on the succession ; to prevent which he set at work a three
fold series of intrigues, in the household of his sister-in-law,
at the court of Hanover, and at that of ZeU.
The prince of Hanover arrived opposite to Greenwich-
palace December 6, 1680, and sent his chamberlain, M. Beck,
on shore to find his uncle, prince Rupert,' and to hire a house.
Prince Rupert immediately informed Charles II, of the arri
val of the prince of Hanover, The king forbade hiring any
house, and instantly appointed apartments at Whitehall for
his German kinsman and suite, sending off the master of the
ceremonies, sir Charles Cottrell, with a royal barge, to bring
his guest up the Thames to WhitehaU, The duke of HamU-
ton came to call on the Hanoverian prince, when he had rest
ed at Whitehall about two hours, and informed him that his
uncle, prince Rupert, had afready preceded him to the levee
' Sidney Diary, vol. ii.
' Prince Rupert, then living at the British court, it >vill be remembered, was
brother to Sophia, mother to George I., and youngest daughter to the queen of
Bohemia.

MARY II. 79
of king Charles, and was ready to meet him there. George
of Hanover quickly made his appearance at the royal levee,
and, when presented to the British monarch, he deUvered a
letter that his mother, the electress Sophia, had sent by him
to her royal cousin-german. Charles II. received both the
letter and his young kinsman with his usual frankness, spoke
of his cousiu Sophia, and said he well remembered her. When
the king had chatted some time with his relative, he proposed
to present him to the queen, (Catharine of Braganza), Prince
George followed Charles II. to the queen's side, or privy -lodg
ings, at WhitehaU, where his presentation to her majesty took
place, with the same ceremonial as was used at the court of
France before the revolution of 1790. The gentleman pre
sented knelt, and, taking the robe of the queen, endeavoured
to kiss the hem ; the more courteous etiquette was, for a lit
tle graceful struggle to take place, when the queen took her
robe from the person presented, who while she did so, kissed
her hand.
It was not until the next day that prince George saw the
princess on whose account he had undertaken this journey;
Charles II. presented him to his niece Anne, " the princess of
York," as prince George himself terms her. At his introduc
tion, the king gave him leave to kiss her. It was, indeed, the
privilege of the prince's near relationship that he should sa
lute her on the lips. Yet the fact that George I. and Anne
so greeted, seems inconsistent with the coldness and distance
of their historical characters. AU this inteUigence was con
veyed to the electress Sophia, in a letter written to her, on
occasion of these introductions, by her son. It is as follows,
from the original French, in which it is indited with as much
sprightliness as if it had emanated from the literary court of
Louis XIV. : —
"THE Hebeditabt Peince Geoegb oe Hanovbe,' to his Mothee,
THE ElEOTEESS SoPHIA.^
"London, Dec. 30, o.s. (Jan. 10, N.s.) 1680-1.
" After wishing your serene highness a very happy new year, I will not delay
• George I., afterwards king of Great Britain.
' It is a little doubtful whether the husband of this princess was at that time
elector, but so his consort is entitled by the transcriber.

80 MARY II.
letting you know that I arrived here on the 6th of Dec, having remained one
day at anchor at Gruwnemtsch, [Greenwich,] tiU M. Beck went on shore to take
a house for me. He did not faU to find out prince Robert, [Rupert,] to let
him know of my arrival at Grvmnevitsch, who did not delay telling king
Charles II. : his majesty immediately appointed me apartments at Weithal,
[¦WhitehaU]. M. Beck requested prince Robert^ to excuse me ; but king
Charles, when he spoke thus, insisted that it should absolutely be so, for he
would treat me 'en cousin^ and after that no more could be said. Therefore
M. Cotterel came on the morrow, to find me out, [in the ship at Greenwich]
with a barque of the king, and brought me therein to Weithal, [WhitehaU],
I had not been there more than two hours, when milor HamUton came to take
me to the king, who received me most obligingly. Prince Robert [Rupert]
had preceded me, and was at court when I saluted king Charles. In making
my obeisance to the king, I did not omit to give him the letter of your serene
highness, after which he spoke of your highness, and said, ' that he remembered
you very well.' When he had talked with me some time, he went to the queen,
[Catharine of Braganza,] and as soon as I arrived he made me kiss the hem of
her majesty's petticoat, {qui Von me fit baiser lajupe a la reine).
" The next day I saw the princess of York, [the lady Anne,] and I saluted
her by kissing her, with the consent of the king. The day after, I went to visit
prince Robert, [Rupert,] who rexieived me in bed, for he has a malady in his
leg, which makes him very often keep bis bed; it appears that it is so without
any pretext, and that he has to take care of himself. He had not faUed of
coming to see me one day. All the milords came to see me sans pretend/re le
main chez moi:^ milord Greue [perhaps Grey] is one that came to me very often
indeed. They cut off the head of lord Stafford yesterday, and made no more
ado about it than if they had chopped off the head of a pullet.
" I have no more to teU your serene highness, wherefore I conclude, and re
main, your very humble son and servant, " Geoege LotjiS."'
There is reason to beUeve that the "mUor Greue," who was
assiduous in his attendance on the prince of Hanover, was
lord Grey of Ford, one of the most violent agitators for the
legal murder of the unoffending lord Stafford, whose death is
mentioned with such naive astonishment by the prince of
Hanover. Various reasons are given for the faUure of the
marriage-treaty between George I. and queen Anne. It is
asserted'* that WiUiam of Orange caused it to be whispered to
the lady Anne, that it was owing to the irrepressible disgust
that the prince George felt at the sight of her, — an obUgiag
1 The name of prince Rupert, although always Germanized to the Enghsh
reader, is, in this letter by his German nephew, mentioned as Robert.
2 This sentence is incomplete and broken in sense ; perhaps the original was
damaged. Does it mean that they came without venturing to shake hands
with him ?
" Endorsed, — " Copied, by George Augustus Gargan, librarian of the Archives
at Hanover, into a collection of MSS. in the King's Library, British Museum,
presented by George IV., called RecueU de Pieces, p. 220."
< Tindal's Continuation, and the Marlborough MSS., Brit. Museum.

MARY IL 81
piece of information, which could easUy be conveyed to her by
the agency of the ViUiers sisters in his wife's estabUshment in
Holland, communicating the same to the other division of the
sisterhood who were domesticated in the palace of St. James.
The mischief took effect, for Anne manifested lifelong re
sentment for this supposed affront. Yet there is no ex
pression of the kind in the letter quoted above, though writ
ten confidentiaUy to a mother ; instead of which, the suitor
dweUs with satisfaction on the permission given him to salute
the young princess. It is more likely that prince George of
Hanover took the disgust at the proceedings of the leaders of
the EngUsh pubUc at that time, and was loath to involve him
self with their infamous intrigues ; for it is to the great ho
nour of the princes of the house of Hanover, that their names
are unsuUied by any such evU deeds as those that disgrace
WUliam of Orange, It will be found, subsequently, that the
mother of this prince testified sincere reluctance to accept a
succession forced on her, and unsought by her or hers ; Uke
wise that her son never visited Great Britain again until he
was summoned as king; in short, the conduct both of the elec
tress Sophia and of her descendants presents the most honour
able contrast to the proceedings of WiUiam, Mary, and Anne.
During prince George of Hanover's visit in England, the
prince of Orange had kindly bestirred himself to fix a matri
monial engagement for him in Germany : when he had re
mained a few weeks at the court of his kinsman, Charles II,,
he was summoned home by his father, Ernest Augustus, to
receive the hand of his first-cousin, Sophia Dorothea, heiress
of the duchy of ZeU, The marriage, contracted against the
wishes of both prince George and Sophia Dorothea, proved
most miserable to both.
The duke of York was absent from England, keeping
court at Holyrood, at the time of the visit of prince George
of Hanover; he had no voice in the matter, either of ac
ceptance or rejection. Although the affections of the lady
Anne were not Ukely to be attracted by prince George, for
his person was diminutive and his manners unpleasant, yet
she felt the unaccountable retreat of her first wooer as a
VOL. VII. G

82 MARY II.
great mortification. The Uttle princess Isabella died the
same spring, a chUd to whom her sister, the lady Anne, was
probably much attached, for they had never been separated
but by the hand of death. In the foUowing summer, Charles
II. permitted the lady Anne to visit her father in Scotland.
She embarked on board one of the royal yachts at Whitehallj
July 13, and, after a prosperous voyage, landed at Leith, July
17, 1681. Her visit to Scotland has been mentioned in the
preceding volume.' Here she met her favourite companion,
Mrs. ChurchiU, who was then in Scotland, in attendance on
the duchess of York.
When the vicissitudes of faction gave a temporary pros
perity to her father, the lady Anne returned with him to
St, James's-palace, and again settled there, in the summer
of 1682. In that year, or the succeeding one, she bestowed
her first affections upon an accompUshed nobleman of her
uncle's court. There is Uttle doubt but that her confidante,
Sarah ChurchiU, was the depositary of all her hopes and
fears relative to her passion for the elegant and handsome
Sheffield lord Mulgrave, which Sarah, according to her
nature, took the first opportunity to circumvent and betiay.
Few of those to whom the rotund form and high-colom-ed
complexion of queen Anne are famUiar can imagiue her as
a poet's love, and a poet, withal, so fastidious as the accom
plished Sheffield ; but the lady Anne of York, redolent with
the Hebe bloom and smUes of seventeen, was different from
the royal matron who adorns so many corporation halls in
provincial towns, and it is possible might be sincerely loved
by the young chivah-ic earl of Mulgrave, who wrote poems
in her praise, which were admired by the court. Poetry is
an aUowable incense, but after gaining the attention of the
lady Anne in verse, the noble poet, Sheffield, proceeded to
write bond fide love-letters to her in good earnest prose,
the object of which was marriage. Charles II. and the
favoured confidante of the princess, Sarah ChurchiU, alone
knew whether she answered these epistles. Some say that
Sarah stole a very tender billet in the lady Anne's writing,
• Vol, vi. p. 129; Life of Mary Beatrice.

MARY IL 83
addressed to Sheffield earl of Mulgrave, and placed it in the
hands of her royal uncle, Charles II. ; others declare that
the unlucky missive was a flaming love-letter of the earl
to the lady Anne. But whichever it might be, the result
was, that a husband was instantly sought for the enamoured
princess, and her lover was forthwith banished from the
English court.' Charles II. rests under the imputation of
sending the earl of Mulgrave on a command to Tangier in
a leaky vessel, meaning to dispose of him and of his am
bitious designs out of the way at the bottom of the ocean;
but to say nothing of the oriental obedience of the crew of
the vessel, it may be noted that Charles could have found a
less costly way of assassination, if so inclined, than the loss
of a ship, however leaky, with all her appointments of rig
ging, provisions, ammunition, and five hundred men withal,
one of whom was his own child,— for the earl of Plymouth
was a favourite son of his, who sailed in the same ship with
Mulgrave. The want of sea-worthiness of the ship was dis
covered on the voyage, and whenever the health of king
Charles was proposed, lord Mulgrave used to say, " Let us
wait till we get safe out of his rotten ship.'" From this
speech, and from the previous courtship of the princess Anne,
aU the rest has been astutely invented.
The consequence of the courtship between the lady Anne
and lord Mulgrave was, that her uncle, king Charles, and
his council, lost no time in finding her a suitable helpmate.
The handsome king of Sweden, Charles XL, had proposed
for the lady Anne, some time after prince George of Ha
nover had withdrawn his pretensions. The beautiful and
spirited equestrian portrait of the king of Sweden was sent
to England to find favour in the eyes of the lady Anne;
this portrait, drawn by no vulgar pencil, is at Hampton-
Court, — at least it was there four years since, shut up in
the long room leading to the chapel. It deserves to be seen,
for it presents the beau ideal of a martial monarch, Anne
was not destined to be the mother of Charles XII,; her
' Biographia Britannica. Scott's Life of Dryden. Horace Walpole, &c.
' Memoir of Sheffield duke of Buckingham, prefixed to his Works, vol. i.
G 2

84 MARY n.
unloving brother-in-law, WilUam, opposed this union with
aU his power of intrigue ; the only suitor on whom he was
wilUng to bestow his fraternal benediction, was the elector-
Palatine, a mature widower, a mutual cousin of Anne and
himself, being a descendant of the queen of Bohemia. The
choice of Charles II. for his niece feU on neither of these
wooers, but on prince George, brother of Christiem V., king
of Denmark.
The royal family of Denmark were nearly related to that
of Great Britain, the grandmother of Charles IL, Anne of
Denmark, being aunt to the father of prince George, [Fre
deric III.,] and a friendly intercourse had always been
kept up, since her marriage with James I., between the
royal families of Denmark and Great Britain. Christiem V.,
when crown-prince, had visited England at the Restoration;
his highness took away with him, as his page, George
ChurchiU,' who was at that time but thirteen ; it is possible
that this trifling circumstance actuaUy led to the marriage
of prince George with the lady Anne of York. George of
Denmark visited England in 1670,' when the lady Anne was
only five or six years old, for there was a difference of four
teen or fifteen years in their ages. He brought George
ChurchiU with him to WhitehaU, as his guide and inter
preter in England, for prince Christiem had transferred him
to his brother's service. From that time George Churchill
became as influential in the household of the second prince
of Denmark, as his brother, John ChurchiU (afterwards duke ¦
of Marlborough), was in that of the duke of York. The
prince of Orange was staying at the court of his uncles at
Whitehall, when George of Denmark was on his first visit in
England; what harm the Danish prince had ever done to
his peevish Uttle kinsman was never ascertained, but from
that period, WiUiam cultivated a hatred against him, lasting
as it was bitter.
It is possible, that when Sarah ChurchUl traversed the
love between the lady Anne and the earl of Mulgrave, she
recommended George of Denmark to the attention of Charles
' Coxe's Life of Mralborough. « Evelyn's Diary.

MARY II. 85
II. for the husband of the princess. As the brother of Mrs.
ChurchiU's husband was already the favourite of the Danish
prince, the long-sighted intriguante might deem that such
aUiance would stiengthen the puissance of her own family
at court ; be this as it may, the marriage between the lady
Anne and prince George of Denmark was formaUy proposed,
on the part of the king of Denmark, in May 1683. King
Charles approved of it, but would not answer finaUy untU
he had spoken to his brother, the duke of York, who, ac
cording to public report, replied, " that he thought it very
convenient and suitable, and gave leave by M. Lente, the
Danish envoy, that the prince George should make appU-
cation to his daughter, the lady Anne." ' The duke of York
regrets the match in his own journal, observing, "that he
had had little encouragement, in the conduct of the prince
of Orange, to marry another daughter in the same interest."
WiUiam of Orange, however, did not identify his own in
terest with that of the Danish prince ; for directly he heard
that he was Uke to become his brother-in-law, he sent Ben
tinck to England to break the marriage if possible. The
Orange machinations proved useless, excepting that the mar
riage was rendered somewhat unpopular by a report being
raised that prince George of Denmark was a suitor recom
mended by Louis XIV. Nevertheless, the protestantism of
the Danish prince was free from reproach, and therefore
there was no reason why he should find favour in the eyes
of Louis.
The prince of Denmark had been distinguished by an act
of generous valour before he came to England. He was en
gaged in one of the tremendous battles between Sweden and
Denmark, where his brother, king Christiem, commanded in
person: the king, venturing too rashly, was taken prisoner
by the Swedes, when prince George, raUying some cavalry,
cut his way through a squadron of the Swedes, and rescued
his royal brother.' The prince had no great appanage or
interest in his own eoimtry, only about 5000 crowns per
' Letters of PhiUp, second earl of Chesterfield, p. 244.
2 Atlas Geograpbicus.

86 MARY II.
annum ; therefore it was considered desirable that he should
remain at the court of England, without taking his wife to
Denmark. Prince George arrived in London, on the ffth of
July, 1783; that day he dined publicly at WhitehaU with
the royal fanuly, and was seen by a great crowd of people,—
among others, by Evelyn, who has left the foUowing descrip
tion of him : " I again saw the prince George, on the 25th of
July; he has the Danish countenance, blonde ; of few words,
spake French but iU, seemed somewhat heavy, but is reported
to be vaUant." — " I am told from WhitehaU," says another
contemporary, " that prince George of Denmark is a person
of a very good mien, and had dined with the king, queen, and
duke of York, who gave the prince the upper hand.'" This
was on a pubhc dinner-day, in the same manner as the court
of France dined at VersaUles and the Tuileries, where the
people were admitted to see the royal family. " The court
wiU soon return to Windsor, where the nuptials between the
prince and lady Anne wUl be arranged and completed.' His
marriage-gifts, which are very noble, are presented to her,
and their households wiU be settled after the manner of those
of the duke of York and the duchess, but not so numerous.
A chapter will be held at Windsor for choosing prince George
into the most noble order of the Garter ; but the prince hath
desired it may be deferred, tUl he hath written to the king of
Denmark for his leave to forbear wearing the order of the
Elephant, for it would not be seemly to wear that and the
order of the Garter at the same time." It is scarcely need
ful to observe, that the " leave " was granted by the king
of Denmark.
The marriage of the princess Anne took place at St.
James's chapel, on St. Anne's-day, July 28th, o.s., 1683, at
ten o'clock at night. Her uncle, Charles IL, gave her away;
queen Catharine, the duchess of York, and the duke of York,
were present.* UnUke the private marriage of the weeping
princess Mary, which took place in her own bedchamber, the
> Memoirs by sir Richard Bulstrode, envoy at the courts of Brussels and
Spain, p. 349.
"i This was a mistake; the marriage was celebrated in the palace of the duke
of York, at St. James's. » Echai-d, vol. in. p. 696.

MARY II. 87
bridal of Anne of York and George of Denmark was a bright
nocturnal festivity, briUiant with Ught and joyous company.
Most of the nobUity then in London were present. The peo
ple took their part in the fete ; they kindled their bonfires at
their doors, and in return wine-conduits, shows, and diversions
were provided for them, and the beUs of each church in Lon
don rang aU night. The marriage was commemorated by a
courtly pretender to Uterature, Charles Montague, subse
quently earl of Halifax, who perpetrated an ode, from which
the only passages that bear any personal reference to the
bride and bridegroom are here presented to the reader : —
" What means this royal beauteous pair ?
This troop of youths and virgins heavenly fair.
That does at once astonish and deUght ?
Great Cliarles and his illustrious brother here.
No bold assassinate need fear j
Here is no harmful weapon found.
Nothing but Cupid's darts and beauty here can wound.
* « • « *
See, see ! bow decently the bashfiil bride
Does bear her conquests ; with how little pride
She views that prince, the captive of her charms.
Who made the North with fear to quake.
And did that powerful empire shake ;
Before whose arms, when great Gustavus led.
The frighted Roman eagles fled."
The succeeding morning of the nuptials, the princess sat in
state with her bridegroom, to receive the congratulations of
the courts of foreign ambassadors, the lord mayor and alder
men, and various public companies.
Many poUticians of the day rejoiced much that the princess
Anne was safely married to prince George, because the death
of Marie Therese, the queen of France, left Louis XIV. a
widower only two days after these nuptials, and, it was sup
posed that the duke of York would have made great efforts to
marry his daughter to that sovereign.' King Charles settled
on his niece, by act of parliament, 20,000/. per annum, and
from his own purse purchased and presented to her, for a resi
dence, that adjunct to the palace of WhitehaU which was caUed
the Cockpit, (formerly its theatre) . This place was buUt by
Henry VIIL, for the savage sport which its name denotes.
¦ MS. of Anstis, Garter king-at-arms.

88 MARY n.
It had long been disused for that purpose, but had beeri
adapted as a place of dramatic representation until the rebel
lion.' It had been granted by royal favour on lease to lord
Danby, of whom it was now purchased. The Cockpit appears
to have been situated between the present Horse-guards and
Downing-street, and it certainly escaped the great fire which
destioyed the palace of Whitehall, being on the other side
of the way. The entry was from St. James's-park, which lay
between it and St. James's-palace; and as that was the town
residence of the duke of York, the vicinity to the dwelling of
his beloved chUd was very convenient.
When the estabUshment of the princess Anne of Denmark
was appointed by her royal uncle, Sarah ChurchiU, secretly
mistrusting the durabUity of the fortunes of her early bene
factress, the duchess of York, expressed an ardent wish to
become one of the ladies of the princess Anne, who requested
her father's permission to that effect. The duke of York
immediately consented, and the circumstance was announced
by the princess in the following bUlet : —
"THE Peincess Anne op Dbnmaek to Mes. Chttechill.*
" The duke of York came in just as you were gone, and made no difficulties;
but has promised me that I sbaU have you, which I assure you is a great joy to
me. I should say a great deal for yom- kindness i» offering it, but I am not
good at compliments. I wiU only say, that I do take it extreme kindly, and
shall be ready at any time to do you all the service that is in my power."
Long years afterwards, Anne's favourite asserted that she
only accepted this situation in compUance with the solicita
tions of her royal mistress : with what degree of truth, the
above letter shows. In the same account of " her conduct,"
Mrs. ChurchiU (then the mighty duchess of Marlborough) de
scribes the qualities she possessed, which induced the stiong
affection enduringly testified for her by the princess. The
first was the great charm of her frankness, which disdained
aU fiattery; next was the extreme hatred and horror that
both felt for lady Clarendon, the aunt of Anne, because that
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 32. Malone has, with antiqua
rian care, traced the transitions of the Cockpit; there was likewise, according
-to his text, a theatre so called in Drnry-lane. -
* Coxe's Marlborough, vol. i. p. 21.

MART n. 89
lady "looked like a mad woman, and talked Uke a scholar,'"
Tliis object of their mutual disUke was wife to the uncle of
the princess, Henry earl of Clarendon ; she had been gover
ness to the princess before her marriage with prince George
of Denmark, and was at present her first lady. The style in
which Flora lady Clarendon wrote was, as may be seen in the
Clarendon Letters, superior to that of any man of her day.
Her letters are specimens of elegant simpUcity, therefore
the charge of scholarship was probably true. As to Mrs.
ChurchiU's influence over the princess, she evidently pursued
a system which may be often seen practised in the world by
dependents and inferiors. She was excessively blunt and
bold to every one but the princess, who, of course, felt that
deference from a person rude and violent to every other
human creature, was a double-distiUed compliment. The
complaisance of the favourite only lasted while the lady Anne
was under the protection of her uncle and father : we shaU
see it degenerate by degrees into insulting tyranny.
In the romance of her fiiendship, the princess Anne re
nounced her high rank in her epistolary correspondence with
her friend, "One day she proposed to me," says Sarah
ChurchiU, "that whenever I should be absent from her, we
might, in our letters, write ourselves by feigned names, such
as would import nothing of distinction of rank between us.
Morley and Freeman were the names she hit on, and she left
me to choose by which of them I would be called. My
frank, open temper' naturally led me to pitch upon Freeman,
and so the princess took the other." These names were ex
tended to the spouses of the ladies, and Mr, Morley and Mr.
Freeman were adopted by prince George of Denmark and
colonel ChurchiU. Other sobriquets were given to the father
and family of the princess ; and this plan was not only used
for the convenience of the note-correspondence which per-
> Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 10. The editor of the Claren
don Letters observes on the abuse of lady Clarendon, that it was impossible for
the favourite of Anne to have comprehended the virtues of a mind Uke lady
Clarendon's. * However virtuously the duchess of Marlborough abstained from praising
others, no one can deny that her praises of herself are fluent and cordial in the
extreme.

90 MARY II.
petuaUy passed between the friends, but it subsequently
masked the series of dark political intrigues, guided by
Sarah Churchill, in the Revolution. The foUowing note was
written a Uttle before this system of equality was adopted,
while it was yet in cogitation in the mind of Anne, who was
then absent from her favourite at the palace of Winchester,
where she was resting after she had accompanied her father,
the duke of York, .in his yacht to review the fleet at Ports
mouth : — "THE Peincess Anne to Ladt Chuechill.'
" Winchester, Sept. 20, 1684.
" I writ to you last Wednesday from on board the yacht, and left my letter
on Thursday morning at Portsmouth to go by the post, to be as good as my
word in writing to my dear lady ChurchiU by the first opportunity. I was in
so great haste when I WTit, that I fear what I said was nonsense, but I hope
you wUl have so much Icindness for me as to forgive it.
"If you wUl not let me have the satisfaction of hearing from you again before
I see you, let me beg of you not to caU me ' your highness' at every word, but
be as free with me as one friend ought to be with another. And you can never
give me any greater proof of your friendship than in telUng me your mind
freely in all things, which I do beg you to do; and if ever it were in my power
to serve you, nobody would be more ready than myself.
" I am aU impatience for Wednesday; tiU when, fareweU."
While the princess of Denmark was enjoying every dis
tinction and luxury in England, her sister Mary led no such
pleasant Ufe at the Hague, where she either was condemned
to utter solitude, or passed her time smTOunded by invidious
spies and insolent rivals. After the death of the noble
Ossory, and the departure of her early friend Dr. Ken, she
had no one near her who dared protect her. Some resist
ance she must have made to the utter subserviency into
which she subsequently fell, or there would have been no
need of the personal restraint imposed on her from the years
1682 and 1684, when her mode of life was described in the
despatches of the French ambassador, D'Avaux, to his own
court : " Until now, the existence of the princess of Orange
has been regulated thus : From the time she rose in the
morning tiU eight in the evening, she never left her cham
ber, except in summer, when she was permitted to walk
' Coxe's Marlborough, vol. i. p. 21. Charles II. had, by the request of his
brother, created ChurchiU, lord ChurchiU of Aymouth, in Scotland, Nov 19th
1683.

MARY II. 91
about once in seven or eight days. No one had Uberty to
enter her room, not even her lady of honour, nor her maids
of honour, of which she has but four ; but she has a troop of
Dutch filles de chambre, of whom a detachment every day
mount guard on her, and have orders never to leave her." '
In this irksome restraint, which, after allowing the utmost
for the exaggeration of the inimical French ambassador, it is
impossible to refrain from caUing imprisonment, the unfor
tunate princess of Orange had time sufficient to finish her
education. She passed her days in reading and embroider
ing, occasionaUy being occupied with the pencil, for it is cer
tain she continued to take lessons of her dwarf drawing-
master, Gibson, who had foUowed her to HoUand for that
purpose. He probably held a situation in her household,
as the tiny manikin was used to court-service, having been
page of the backstairs to her grandfather, Charles I.' It
may be thought that a princess who was a practical adept
with the pencil, would have proved, subsequently, a great
patron of pictorial art as queen of Great Britain and Ire
land. Such hopes were not fulfilled. The persons in whose
society Mary of England chiefly delighted were, her best-
beloved friend and early playfellow. Miss, or (according to
the phraseology of that day,) Mrs. Anne Trelawney, then
her favourite maid of honour, and her good nurse, Mrs.
Langford, whose husband, a clergyman of the church of
England, was one of her chaplains, and devotedly attached
to her. All were detested by the prince of Orange, but no
brutal affronts, no savage rudeness, could make these friends
of infancy offer to withdraw from the service of his princess
when Dr. Ken did, who, at last, finding he could do no
good at the court of the Hague, retired to England. Dr,
Ken was succeeded, as almoner to the princess of Orange,
by a very quaint and queer clergyman of the old-world
fashion, caUed Dr, Covell,
It was not very probable that the restless ambition of the
prince of Orange would permit his wedded partner to remain
' Amhassades D'Avaux, vol. iv. p. 217; BibUoth^ue du Roi, Paris.
' Grainger's Biography, vol. iv. p. 119.

92 MARY II.
at the Palace of the Wood, or at Dieren, surrounded by her
loyalist chaplains, nurses, and dwarf pages of the court of
Charles I., cherishing in her mind thoughts of the lofty and
ideal past, of the poets, artists, and cavaUers of the old mag
nificent court of Whitehall. No ; Mary's claims were too
near the throne of Great Britain to permit him thus to spare
her as an auxiliary. After he had grieved her by neglect,
humbled her by the preference he showed for her women,
and condemned her to solitude, for which she had Uttle pre
ference, his next step was to persecute her for aU her famUy
attachments, and insult her for her filial tenderness to her
father. He assaUed her affection for him by inducing her to
believe him guUty of crimes, which only the most daring
political slanderers laid to his charge. Above aU, WiUiam
made a crime of the reverence his princess bore to her grand
father, Charles I., for whom he seems to have harboured an
implacable hatred, although in the same degree of relation
ship to himself as to Mary. The proceedings of the prince
of Orange, in breaking down his wife's spirit according to
the above system, were thus minutely detaUed to her kins
man, Louis XIV., by his ambassador to the States, D'Avaux:
" They have printed an insolent book against the duke of
York in Holland, whom they accuse of cutting the throat of
the earl of Essex. The English envoy, Chudleigh, remon
strated, but it had no other effect than exciting Jurieu to
present this book pubUcly to the prince of Orange as his
own work ; but the worst of aU was, that, after this out
rage on her father, the princess of Orange was forced by
her husband to go to hear Jurieu preach a political ser
mon. Chudleigh, however, resented so earnestly the ca
lumnies of Jurieu and the conduct of the prince, that he
was no longer invited to the court-entertainments at the
Hague. A few days afterwards, the princess was sitting in
her soUtary chamber on the anniversary of the death of her
grandfather, Charles I, She had assumed a habit of deep
mourning, and meant to devote the whole of the day to fast
ing and prayer, as was her family custom when domesticated
with her father and mother. Her meals were always lonely,

MARY II. 93
on and this anniversary she supposed that she might fast
without interruption. The prince of Orange came unexpect
edly into her apartment, and looking at her mourning habit,
scornfully bade her, in an imperious tone, ' Go change it for
the gayest dress she had!' The princess was obliged to
obey. He then told her he meant she should dine in pub
Uc." Now it is not very easy to make a woman dine when
she resolves to fast. " The princess," pursues D'Avaux,
" saw all the dishes of a state dinner successively presented
to her, but dismissed them one after the other, and ate
nothing. In the evening, the prince of Orange commanded
her to accompany him to the comedy, where he had not been
for several months, and which he had ordered on purpose :
at this new outrage to her feelings, the princess burst into
tears, and in vain entreated him to spare her, and excuse her
compliance."' This was the final struggle; from , the 30th of January,
1684-5, there is no instance to be found of Mary's repug
nance to any outrage effected by her husband against her
family. The change, for some mysterious reason, was occa
sioned by the domestication of her cousin Monmouth at her
court. The contest of parties in England had ended in the
restoration of her father, the duke of York, to his natural
place in the succession, and Monmouth took his turn of
banishment in HoUand and Brussels. It was part of the
' D'Avaux' Amhassades, vol. iv. p. 262; Bib. du Roi, Paris. A brUliant
reviewer in the Quarterly Review has commended us for rectifying the mistake
in the EngUsh edition of D'Avaux, which states "that the day of fasting and
humUiation observed by the princess of Orange was on the anniversary of the
death of James I. (which by the way occurred on March 25); but we uncon
sciously amended this error merely by going to the native language and genuine
edition of D'Avaux" Amhassades. The misstatement (of which we were not
aware untU the learned author of the article in the Quarterly Review mentioned
it) was probably prepared for the English reader in the same spirit which ani
mated all authorized history of the royal Stuarts in the last century. Several
points were gained by the falsification of a word or two in the English edition:
at the same time it acquitted the hero of Nassau of an inexcusable family out
rage, and gave some support to the atrocious calumny invented in the seven
teenth century, that Charles I. poisoned his father James I., or wherefore should
such gtief be manifested on the anniversary of the death of the latter? It is
desirable, on this head, to state, that in the Paris edition of D'Avaux be writes
directly after the anniversary of January 30, not of March 25; and that Henry
earl of Clarendon, in his Diary, describes the anniversary of the death of Charles
I. as ever kept by James II. and his famUy, in fasting, prayer, and sorrow.

94 MARY II.
policy of the prince of Orange to receive this rival aspirant
for the crown of Great Britain with extraordinary affection^
insomuch that he permitted the princess the most unheard of
indulgences to welcome him. " The prince of Orange," says
D'Avaux, "was heretofore the most jealous of men. Scarcely
would he permit the princess to speak to a man, or even to a
woman; now he presses the duke of Monmouth to come after
dinner to her apartments, to teach her country-dances. Like
wise, the prince of Orange charged her, by the complaisance
she owed to him, to accompany the duke of Monmouth in
skating parties this great frost. A woman in common life
would make herself a ridiculous sight if she did as the prin
cess of Orange does, who is learning to gUde on the ice with
her petticoats trussed up to her knees, skates buckled on her
shoes, and sUding absurdly enough, first on one foot and
then on the other.'" The duchess of Orleans scruples not
to accuse Mary of coquetry with the duke of Monmouth.
The strange scenes described by D'Avaux were doubtless the
foundation of her opinion; but what is stUl stranger, the
literary duchess considers that Mary gave reason for scandal
with D'Avaux himself. WUliam discovered, it seems, that
an interview had taken place between his princess and this
ambassador, at the home of one of her Dutch maids of
honour, mademoiseUe Trudaine: this lady was instantly
driven from her seiTice by the prince, with the utmost dis
grace. WiUiam's jealousy was probably a political one, and
he dreaded lest some communication prejudicial to his views
might take place between Mary and her father, through the
medium of the French ambassador. D'Avaux himself does
not mention the interview in his letters, nor show any symp
tom of vanity regarding the princess ; neither does he men
tion the redoubtable adventure of the arm-chair, before
detailed. The resentment of the envoy Chudleigh was not to be
kept within bounds, when the proceedings relative to Mon
mouth took place. He had previously remonstrated with
warmth at the public patronage offered by the prince of
Orange, both to the libeller Jurieu, and to his Ubel on the
• D'Avaux, p. 240,

MARY IL 95
father of the princess; now, when he found that the princess
went constantly, squired by Monmouth, to hear the sermons
of this calumniator of her parent, the EngUsh envoy ex
pressed himself angrily enough for the prince of Orange to
insist on his recall, in which request he obliged his princess
to join. The motive, however, that the prince and princess
gave for this requisition was not the real one, but a slight
afiront on their dignity, such as hereditary sovereigns have
often borne without even a frown. It was the carnival: the
snow at the Hague was hard and deep ; aU the Dutch world
were sleighing in fanciful sledges, and masked in various
characters. Among others, the princess of Orange being
lately taken into the favour of her lord and master, he drove
out with her on the snow in a sleigh: both were masked. The
Orange sleigh met that of the envoy Chudleigh, who refused
to break the road, and the princely sledge had to give way
before the equipage of the proud Englishman.' The prince
and princess both wrote complaints of Chudleigh's disre
spect, and petitioned that he might be recaUed. Chudleigh
wrote likewise, giving his own version of the real cause of
the offence, and of the inimical proceedings of the Dutch
court against aU who were devoted to the British sovereign.
As for his aUeged crime, he made very Ught of it, saying,
"that as the prince and princess were masked, which im-
pUed a wish to appear unknown, the Ul-breeding and imper
tinence would have been in any way to have testified ac
quaintance with them ; that, in fact, he knew them not, and
that he was on the proper side of the road. If the circum
stance had happened to his own right-royal master and mis
tress, he should have done the same, but they knew too well
the customs of their rank to have taken offence. As for
recall, he joined in the request, for he could not stay at the
Hague to see and hear M'hat he saw and heard daily." The
result was, that Chudleigh returned to England, and Bevil
Skelton was sent as envoy. Unfortunately, he gave stUl less
satisfaction to the Orange party.
' D'Avaux' Amhassades; BibUoth^que du Roi, Paris. Likewise Dartmouth's
Notes to Burnet.

96 MARY II.
"The prince of Orange," says D'Avaux, "knew not how
to caress Monmouth sufficiently: balls and parties were in
cessantly given for him. Four or five days since, he went
alone with the princess of Orange on the ice in a traineau,
to a house of the prince three leagues from the Hague; they
dined there, and it was the duke of Monmouth that led out
the princess. He dined at table with the princess, who, be
fore, always ate by herself. It was remarked that the prin
cess, who never was accustomed to walk on foot in public
places, was now for ever promenading in the maU, leaning
on the arm of Monmouth; and that the prince, formerly
the most jealous person in existence, suffered this gaUantry,
which aU the world noticed, between the duke and his wife.'
The gaiety at the court of the Hague," he continues, "is
universal. WUliam himself set aU the world dancing at the
baUs he gave, and encouraged his guests and his wife by
dancing himself. He likewise obliged the princess to re
ceive at her court, and to countenance, the duke of Mon
mouth's mistress or secondary wife, lady Harriet Went
worth." The iU- treated heiress of Buccleugh, Monmouth's
duchess and the mother of his chUdren, was living deserted
in England: she had been the most particiUar friend and
companion of the princess of Orange, who ought, therefore,
to have resented, rather than encouraged any introduc
tion to her supplanter. The dulce of York wrote, with un
wonted sternness, to his daughter, remonstrating against
these proceedings. She shed tears on her father's letter;
but she answered, "that the prince was her master, and
would be obeyed." Eye-witnesses did not deem that the
conduct of the princess was induced by mere obedience.
She was either partial to Monmouth, — as her friend and
correspondent, the German duchess of Orleans, impUes, —
or she rushed into pleasure with the hilarity of a caged bird
into the open air. If her seclusion had been as severe as the
French ambassador declared it was, she was glad of Uberty
and exercise on any terms. At the conclusion of one of his
letters of remonstrance, her father bade her warn her hus-
' D'Avaux' Amhassades, vol. iv, p. 217.

MARY II. 97
band, " that if the king and himself were removed by death
from their path, the duke of Monmouth, whatsoever the prince
might think of his friendship, would give them a struggle
before they could possess the throne of Great Britain." ' A
dim Ught is thrown on the correspondence between James II.
and his daughter, by garbled extracts made by Dr. Birch, a
chaplain of the princess Anne. Some motive fettered his
transcribing pen, since letters, apparently of the strongest
personal interest, furnish him but with two or three broken
sentences; for instance, in January the 27th, 1685, a few
days before the duke of York ascended the throne, when
he wrote to remonstrate with her on her extraordinary con
duct with Monmouth. Dr. Birch's brief quotation from this
paternal reproof is, that her father " supposes she was kept
in awe ;" that from Mary's answer, " demes being kept in
awe, — her condition much happier than he beUeved.'"
AU the noisy gaieties and rejoicings at the Orange court
were hushed and dispelled, as if by the sweep of an en
chanter's wand, on the noon of February 10, (o. s.) 1685,
when the tidings arrived of the death of Charles IL, and the
peaceable accession of the princess's father to the throne of
Great Britain, as James II, D'Avaux thus describes the
change effected by the announcement of the news at the
palace of the Hague :* " Letters from England, of the 6th
of February, o.s,, arrived here at seven this morning; they
communicated the sorrowful tidings of the death of the king
of England, Charles II. The prince of Orange did not go
into the chamber of his wife, where she was holding a court
of reception for the ladies of the Hague : he sent a message,
requesting her to come down and hear the news. The duke
of Monmouth came Ukewise to Usten to these despatches.
It is said that Mary manifested deep affiiction at the death
of her uncle. Monmouth retired to his own lodging, and
came to the prince at ten in the evening : they were shut up
together tUl midnight sounded. Then Monmouth, the same
' Dalrymple's Appendix, and Macpherson's History of Great Britain.
« Additional MS. 4163, vol. i. ; Birch Papers, British Museum.
° D'Avaux' Amhassades, vol. iv. pp. 217-266,
VOL, VII. H

98 MARY II.
night, left the Hague secretly ; and so weU was his departure
hidden, that it was supposed at noon the next day that he
was in bed. The prince of Orange gave him money for his
journey,'" To his daughter, James II, announced his pros
perous accession with the utmost warmth of paternal tender
ness ; to the prince of Orange, with remarkable dryness and
brevity.' The prince, who had never supposed that his
father-in-law would ascend the British throne, after the
strong attempts to exclude him on account of his religion,
found himself, if regarded as his enemy, in an alarming pre
dicament. His first manoeuvre, in consequence, was to take
out of his wife's hand the paternal letter sent to her by her
father, and read it aloud to the assembled states of Holland
as if it had been written to himself.* He wrote to the new
sovereign an apologetical epistle in the lowest strain of humi-
Uty, explaining " that Monmouth only came as a supphant,
was shown a Uttle common hospitality, and had been sent
away." A glow of fervent enthusiasm and a prostration of
devotion now marked his letters to James II. In one of his
epistles WUUam says, — "Nothing can happen which will
make me change the fixed attachment I have for your
interests. I should be the most unhappy man in the world
if you were not persuaded of it, and should not have the
goodness to continue me a little in your good graces, since
I shall be, to the last breath of my life, yours, with zeal and
fideUty,"* The usually affectionate correspondence between James II.
and his daughter Mary, had now become interspersed with
their differences of opinion on religion. The partiaUties of
each were in direct opposition to the other, — ^his for the
church of Rome, she frequenting the worship of the Dutch
dissenters. Neither had much regard for the true resting-
place between the two, — the reformed church of England, as
established at the period of the present translation of the
Scriptures, According to Dr, Birch's meagre extracts, king
> D'Avaux' Amhassades, vol. iv. pp. 217-266. D'Avaux dates Feb. ^0, but
he has used the new style.
2 Dalrymple's Appendix, where the letter is quoted, " Macpherson.
* Dalrymple's Append'x, French letter.

MARY n-. 99
James wrote to his daughter Mary, from Windsor, August
•22nd, to express —
" His sui-prise to find her so iU-informed of the bishop of London's behaviour,
Jjoth to the late king and to him, both as duke and king, as to write [to him]
in his favour ; that the bishop deserved no favour from him, and was far from
having the true church-of-England principles,"
In the answer of Mary, dated the 26th of August, she " vin
dicated her former preceptor as a good and loyal man,'"
An error, fatal to himself, was committed by James IL, in
complying with the request that his daughter was induced to
join in, by aUowing Henry Sidney to return to the Hague as
the commander of the EngUsh forces, which were lent to the
prince of Orange as a support equally against the ambition
of France and the party in Holland adverse to the stadthol
dership, for every officer who did not become a partisan of
the views of the prince of Orange on the throne of Great
Britain was an object of persecution, and was very glad to
obtain his own dismissal and return to England. Thus aU
¦who remained were the pledged agents of WiUiam's ambi
tion. Since the departure of Dr, Ken, it was noticed that
Mary had attended more than ever the preachings of the
Dutch dissent. It was observed that Monmouth, who had
accompanied her to their meetings, had, in his latter years,
manifested great partiaUty to the fatalist sects. The rash
invasion of England by Monmouth, his nominal assumption
of the royal dignity, and his execution, were events which
foUowed each other with startling celerity. It is evident,
from his own memoirs, that James II. regretted being forced
to put Monmouth to death. Those who have read the pro
clamation, in which Monmouth caUs his uncle " the mur
derer and poisoner of Charles II,," will see that, in pubUsh-
ing so unfounded a calumny, he had rendered any pardon
from James IL a self-accusation. Whether the mind of
Mary had been warped against her father by the party-
exUes who swarmed in HoUand, or whether her motives were
the more degrading ones attributed to her by her relative
and correspondent, EUzabeth Charlotte,' (the second wife of
' Additional MSS, 4163, vol, i, ; British Museum,
' Memoirs of the Duchess of Orleans,
H 2

100 MART n.
Philippe duke of Orleans,) can scarcely be surmised; but
reasoning from facts and results, it is evident that she never
forgave her father the death of Monmouth.
Since the departure of Dr. Ken, it was impossible for the
father of the princess to send any loyal person, in any official
capacity, who could be endured at her court, Skelton, the
new envoy, was Uked stiU less than Chudleigh, A complete
antipathy had subsisted between Dr. Ken and WilUam of
Orange, but the dignity of character pertaining to the disin
terested churchman had awed the prince from the practices
to which he had recourse in order to discover what Ken's
successor. Dr. CoveU, thought of the married feUcity of the
princess, and of the conduct of the persons composing the
court at the Hague, Truly, in this proceeding the hero of
Nassau verified the proverb, that eavesdroppers hear no
good of themselves ; and, assuredly, the peepers into private
letters deserve not more self-gratification than the Usteners
at windows or keyholes. The princess was at Dieren, sur
rounded by the inimical circle of the ViUiers, to whose aid a
fourth, their sister Catharine, had lately arrived from Eng
land, and had married the marquess de Puissars, a French
nobleman at the court of Orange. It was an aUusion to the
infamous EUzabeth Villiers which exasperated the Dutch
phlegm of WiUiam of Orange into the imprudence of acknow
ledging the ungentlemanlike ways by which he obtained
possession of the quaint document written by his wife's
almoner, Dr, CoveU, The prince had, by some indirect
means, learned that the correspondence between CoveU and
Skelton, the envoy, passed through the hands of D'Alonne,
the secretary to the princess. After obtaining and copying
Dr. CoveU's letter, he sent it to Lawrence Hyde, the uncle
of the princess of Orange, accompanied by his holograph
letter in French, of which the foUowing is a translation :' —
" I had for some time suspected," says the prince of Orange,' " that Dr,
Covell was not a faithful servant to the princess. The last time I was at the
Hague, a letter fell into my hands which he had written to Skelton, the am
bassador. I opened it, and at my return to Dieren, where the doctor was with
the princess, I took the doctor's cypher and decj-phered it, as you will see hy
' Clarendon Correspondence, vol. i, p, 165. * Ibid,

MARY II. 101
'Hhe copy annexed; the ori^nal, (which I have,) written and signed with his
own hand, be acknowledged when I showed it to him. You wiU, no doubt, be
surprised that a man of his profession could be so great a knave."
The surprise is, however, greater to find that a prince, who
bore a character for heroism, and even for magnanimity,
should first purloin a private letter, break the seal to espy
the contents, then take the doctor's cypher, — but how, un
less his serene highness had picked the doctor's desk, he
does not explain, — and then continue his practices tiU he
had laboured out a fair copy of the letter, which, to com
plete his absurdity, he sent to the very parties that the old
doctor especiaUy wished should know how he treated his
wife. James II. and Clarendon were not a Uttle diverted
at the fact, that the prince of Orange had spent his time
in making out a cyphered letter as compUmentary to him
self and court as the foUowing : —
" De. Cotelii to Mb. Skelton, the Ambassaioe.
"Dieren, October 1=5, 1685.
" Your honour may be astonished at the news, but it is too true, that the
princess's heart is Uke to break; and yet she every day, with mistress Jessou
and madame Zulestein, [Mary Worth,] counterfeits the greatest joy, and looks
upon us as dogged as may be. We dare no more speak to her. The prince
hath infaUihly made her his absolute slave, and there is an end of it. I wish to
" God I could see the king give you some good thing for your Ufe ; I would have
it out of the power of any revocation, for, I assure you, I fear the prince wiU for
ever rule the roast. As for Mr. Chudleigh,' if his business he not done beyond
the power of the prince before the king [James IL] die, he wUl be in an Ul
taking. But I wonder what makes the prince so cold to you. None hut infe-
mous people must expect any tolerable usage here.
" I beseech God preserve the king [James IL] many and many years. I do
not wonder much at the new marchioness's [Catharine ViUiers] behaviour, it is
so like the breed. We shall see fine doings if we once come to town. What
would you say if the princess should take her into the chapel, or, in time, into
the bedchamber? I cannot fancy the sisters [ViUiers] wiU long agree. You
guess right about Mr. D'AUonne, for he is secretary in that, as weU as other
private affairs.
" I fear I shall not get loose to meet you at Utrecht: it vriU not be a month
before we meet at the Hague. I never so heartily longed to come to the Hague.
God send us a happy meeting !
" The princess is just now junketing with madame Bentinck [Anne ViUiers]
and Mrs. Jesson, in madame Zulestein's chamber. BeUeve me, worthy sir, ever
with aU sincere devotion to be, " Your honour's, &c.
" Let'me know how yon were received at the hoff, [court]."
This letter strongly corroborates the inteUigence regard-,
* The former envoy, displaced by the complaint of the prince.

103 MARY II.
ing the princess transmitted by the French ambassador,
D'Avaux, for the information of his court ; and is, moreover,
corroborated by the previous remonstrances of Dr. Ken on
the Ul-treatment of Mary. Nor, when the strong family con
nexions are considered of the intriguante Elizabeth ViUiers,
represented by old Dr. Covell as surrounding the princess
at aU times, equally in her court and the privacy of her
chamber, will his picture of the slavery to which she was
reduced be deemed exaggerated.
With Dr. Covell a general clearance of all persons sup
posed to be attached to the royal family in England took
place : they were all thrust out of the household of the prin
cess. Bentinck, whose wife is mentioned in Dr. CoveU's
letter, thus detaUs their dismission in an epistle to Sidney:'
" You will be surprised to find the changes at our court, for
her royal highness, madame the princess, on seeing the letter
which the prince had got by chance, dismissed Dr. Covell,
without any further chastisement, because of his profession;
and as it was suspected that Mrs. Langford and Miss Tre
lawney had been leagued with him, her royal highness,
madame the princess, has sent them off this morning. The
second chaplain, Langford, is also in this intrigue. I do not
complain of the rfiaUce these people have shown in my case,"
continued Bentinck, " seeing that they have thus betrayed
their master and mistress. I beg, that if you hear any one
speak of the sort of history they have charitably made at
our expense, you wiU send us word, for they have reported
as if we [Bentinck and his wife] had faUed of respect to her
royal highness madame the princess at our arrival at Houns
lardyke, and I should wish to 'know what is said.'" If
Bentinck and his master could have obtained BariUon's de
spatches by some such " accident" as gave them possession
of Dr. CoveU's letter, they would have found that king
James remarked reasonably enough on the incident. Hg
said, that " If the prince of Orange reaUy behaved like a
true friend to him, and a good husband to his daughter, it
• Sidney Diary, edited by Mr. Blencowe, vol. u. pp. 254, 255, where may be
seen the original French letter;

MARY II. 103
was strange that he should be so enraged at her earliest
friends and oldest servants writing news by the British re
sident of her health, and the manner of passing her time."
The king aUuded to the fact, " that Mrs. Langford was the
nurse of his daughter Mary, whose husband, Mr. Langford,
was one of her chaplains ; Anne Trelawney, one of her ladies,
had been a playfeUow, whom the princess Mary loved better
than any one in the world." The princess suffered agonies'
when the prince of Orange, suspecting that Anne Trelawney
was among the disapprovers of his conduct, forced her to
return to England at this juncture.'"
. The prince of Orange informed Lawrence Hyde, the uncle
of the princess, that he left the punishment of Dr. Covell to
his bishop ; but he demanded of king James the dismissal of
the envoy Skelton, for having the queer letter already quoted
written to him by the said Dr. Covell, which, in fact, Skelton
had never received. Hyde drily replied, by the order of the
king, "that frequent changes were great impediments to
business; and reminded him that the other envoy, Chud
leigh, had been dismissed for a private misunderstanding."
Skelton remained fruitlessly writing to his royal master, cal-
Ung his attention to the intrigues by which his son-in-law
was working his deposition,* receiving but Uttle belief from
James IL, who either would not or could not suspect the
faith of a son and daughter, when both of them were writing
to him letters, apparently of an affectionate and confidential
kind, every post-day.'* The princess of Orange greatly exas
perated the French ambassador by the sympathy she mani
fested for his Protestant countrymen. He wrote to his court,
January 3, 1686,^" Only two days ago, she told a story of a
' This curious and obscure passage in Mary's early married life has been
collated and collected from the despatches and diaries of her friends, relatives,
foes, and servants; namely, from those written by her uncle Lawrence, her
husband the prince of Orange, her father, and old friends, as weU as by the
French ambassadors, D'Avaux and BarUlon; and there is no doubt that there
is much more to be found in private letters and journals, as yet unknown to
biogi-aphers. ' Barillon, Oct. 1685.
' Dalrymple's Appendix, and Macpherson's History and Stuart Papers, vol. i.
p, 286.
? Dalrymple's Appendix ; see a great number from the prince of Orange and
from the king.

104 MARY n.
fire having been Ughted under two young Protestant girls ia
France, who were thus made to sufler dreadful torments."'
The ambassador complained to the prince of Orange, and
requested him "to restrain the princess from talking thus;"
but the prince coldly observed, " that he could not." Hol
land and England were then full of the refugees who had
fled from the detestable persecutions in France. In this in
stance Jaines II. and his daughter acted in unison, for he
gave them refuge in England, and reUeved them with money
and other necessaries. It is said, that he sent word to
remonstrate with Louis XIV. on his cruelty.'
It was in the spring of 1686 that the princess of Orange,
by a manifestation of her conjugal fears, obtained from the
States-General the appointment of body-guards, to attend
on the personal safety of her husband, who hitherto had
been without that indication of the dignity of a sovereign
prince. The foUowing curious tale of a plot against the life
or freedom of Mary's consortj she owed to Dr. Burnet and
one Mr. W. Facio, or Tacio, who afterwards fell out with
each other, and gave different versions of it. Perhaps the
plot itself was a mere scheme for obtaining a place in the
good graces of the prince and princess of Orange. " Sche
veling is a sea village," begins the memorial, " about two or
three mUes from the palace of the Hague, whither all people,
from the rank of the prince and princess to the lowest boor
and boorine, take the air, in fine weather, on summer even-
ings. A stately long avenue leads to the dunes from the
back of the Hague palace-gardens, planted on each side with
many rows of taU trees." The dunes (just Uke those of
Yarmouth) are interspersed with portions of beautiful tuif,
' Amhassades D'Avaux, vol. v. p. 219.
' There is direct evidence of this part: see Toone's Chronology, Macpherson,
and a letter of Henry lord Clarendon. BarUlon, however, in one of his letters
to Louis XIV., asserts that James expressed to him the direct contrary. Facts
are, nevertheless, to be preferred to words, even if the words were reported wifli
truth. James devoted 50,000«. of the contents of his weU-regulated treasury,
to the good work of the hospitable provision for his poor guests. See, likewise,
the works of Dr. Peter Affix, one of the refugee leaders, which overflow with
gratitude to James IL, for what the good Huguenot calls his inestimable kind.
ness to them in their miseries.

MARY IL 105
of the arenaria, or sea-beach grass ; the rest is a desert of
•deep, loose sand, where the roots of this grass do not bind
it ; consequently, a heavy carriage with horses always would
have great difficulty in traversing the road, which was very
troublesome towards the north dunes,^ "The prince of
Orange," wrote the informer of the plot, " would often go
in a chariot drawn by six horses, in the cool of a summer's
evening, to take the air for two hours along the sea-shore,
with only one person in the carriage with him ; and in order
to avoid aU troublesome salutation, he went northward a
great way beyond where the other carriages did walk, none
of which dared follow him, so that he was almost out of
sight." An agent of the king of France went to lie in wait,
with two boats, oh the ScheveUng beach, each manned with
armed desperadoes : and, when the Dutch prince's carriage
was slowly ploughing its way among the sandy dunes, the
men were to march to surround the prince, who, being thus
enclosed between the two gangs, was to be taken, rowed off
to a brig of war under Dutch colours, and carried to France.
The scheme was attributed to a count Feril, or Fenil, an
ItaUan officer in a French regiment, who had been banished
from France for kiUing his enemy in a duel. M. Facio, or
Tacio, then a youth, the son of the man with whom he lodged
at DuyvUiers, heard the matter in confidence from Feml.
By a notable concatenation of accidents. Dr. Burnet met the
confidant of the conspirator of "the plot," as he bent his
course to HoUand. It seems very strange in this story, that
the alleged conspirator, count Fenil, should have trusted his
intentions several months before " the plot " was matured to
this young man, who happened to be traveUing to Geneva,
where he happened to encounter Burnet, who happened to
be travelling to HoUand, where he happened to find the nar
rative a convenient means of introduction to the princess
of Orange, for poUcy forbade her receiving with particular
marks of distinction any exUe from her father's court, dur
ing his short-Uved prosperity after the suppression of the
' In Yarmouth these sea-side plains are caUed danes, or deans, but both words
mean the same as downs.

106 MARY n.
Monmouth insurrection. Having requested an interview on
matters of life and death with her royal highness, Burnet •
told his alarming tale with such effect, that the pruicess, in
an agony of conjugal fear, entreated, in her turn, a confer
ence on matters of life and death with some members of the
States-General of the Orange faction, to hear and see the
reverend person teU his story' and produce his witness. The
result was, that the princess obtained from a majority of the
States-General the first appointment of her husband's body
guards, — a step greatly adverse to the terms on which he
held his stadtholdership, and savouring strongly of royal
power and dignity. The author of the story, M. Facio, in
his memorial, published for the purpose of exposing some
falsehoods of his quondam aUy, complains much of the in
gratitude both of WiUiam and Burnet. What became of
the count FenU, on whom the concoction of "the plot" was
laid, is not mentioned.
James II. sent his friend WiUiam Penn, the iUustrious
phUanthropist, to his daughter and her husband in Janu
ary 1686, to convince them by his eloquence of the pro
priety of his aboUshing aU laws tending to persecution.
A Dutch functionary, of the name of Dyckvelt, was long
associated with the benevolent quaker in this negotiation.
'.'Penn," says D'Avaux, "wrote with his own hand a long
letter," averring "that many of the bishops had agreed
that the English penal laws were cruel and bad, and ought
to be annulled." On which the prince declared, "he would
lose aU the revenues and reversion of the kingdom of Great
Britain, to which his wife was heiress, before one should
be abolished. The princess," adds D'Avaux, "echoed his
words, but much more at length, and with such sharpness,
that the marquess d''AlbeviUe [who was D'Avaux's inform
ant, and was present] was much astonished at her tone
and manner." Among other expressions, she said,' that
' It is a curious cbcumstance, that Burnet is very cautious in aU his allusions
to this queer tale, which he does not attempt to narrate either in history or
manuscript. The truth is, that Facio, or Tacio, liad printed a version of it,
strongly Ulustrative of the wise proverb. When rogues fall out, &c.
« Amhassades D'Avaux : BibUoth^que Royale, Paris, vol. v. p. 67.

MARY n. 107
"If ever she was queen of England, she should do more
for the Protestants than even queen EUzabeth." "V^Tien
Mary perceived the impression she had made on AlbevUle
by her answer to Penn, she modified her manner in dis
cussing with him the differences between her father's views
and her own, adding, in a more moderate, and at the same
time more dignified tone, "I speak to you, sir, with less
reserve, and with more Uberty than to the king my father,
by reason of the respectful deference which I am obliged
to entertain for him and his sentiments."' WiUiam Penn,
on this mission, incurred the enmity of the princess of
Orange, which endured through her life. The practical
wisdom and justice which he had sho%vn, as the founder
of a prosperous colony under the patronage of James, when
duke of York, ought to have made the heiress of the British
empire consider herself under inestimable obUgations to the
illustrious man of peace. The prince of Orange was less
violent than his wife in the matter, and astutely endea
voured to bargain with Penn, as the price of his consent,
"that king James should aUow his daughter a handsome
pension of 48,000/. per annum, as heiress of the British
throne." James II. was rich, and free fr-om debt, either
pubUc or private; but he demurred on this proposition,
saying "he must first ascertain clearly that this large in
come, if he sent it out of the country, would not be used
against himself."
It has been shown, that Dr. Burnet's first introduction to
the princess was on account of a plot he had discovered
against the Ufe or Uberty of the prince of Orange. He be
came from that time extremely intimate at the court of
Orange, — an intimacy that excited the displeasure of James
II. The extracts are meagre from the king's letter to his
daughter. They are as follows : — In a letter, dated from
WhitehaU, November 23, 1686, he spoke of Bm-net "as a
man not to be trusted, and an iU man.'" Dec. 7, he com-
1 Mazure's deciphering of AlbeviUe's despatches to James II,
« Additional MS., British Museum, 4163, foUo 1.

108 MARY II.
plained of Burnet "as a dangerous man, though he would
seem to be an angel of light." King James added this de
scription, allowing his enemy the following qualities: that
''Burnet was an ingenious man," meaning, in the parlance
of that century, a man of genius, " of a pleasant conversation,
and the best fiatterer he ever knew." The princess repUed
to her father from the Hague, December 10, in a letter fuU
of Burnet's praises.'
' Additional MS., British Museum. 4163. foUo 1.

MARY I..
QUEEN-REGNAiJT OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.

CHAPTER III.

Princess Anne greatly indulged by her father — ^Death of her daughter — Present
at her father's coronation, (James II.) — Attends the opening of parUament —
Birth of Anne's second daughter, Mary — ^Anne's state at chapel-royal — Her
letter to the bishop of Ely — Her revenue and married Ufe — Character of her
husband — Her third daughter bom, (Sophia) — Illness of her husband —
Death of both their chUdren — ^Excessive grief of the princess — Her pecuniary
embarrassments — Interview with her father — Her aunt quits her household
— ^Lady ChurcliiU her first lady — Letters between the princess of Orange and
English ladies — Letters of James II. to the princess of Orange — He informs
her of his queen's situation — Birth of the prince of Wales, {called the Fre-
tender) — ^Anne's absence at Bath — Her insinuations against the cbUd and
his mother — Anne's joy at the people's suspicions — at her brother's Ulness —
Letters from the queen (Mary Beatrice) to the princess of Orange — Princess
Anne at Windsor — Introduced to the pope's legate — Princess of Orange writes
to archbishop Sancroft — Princess Anne's dialogues with her uncle Clarendon —
Princess of Orange deceives her father — His letters on her husband's invasion
— Interview of Anne and Clarendon — ^Mocks her father with her women —
Reproofs of her uncle.
The inimical conduct of the princess of Orange towards her
father, which commenced a few months before his accession,
caused him to bestow a double portion of fondness on her
younger sister. Anne had, in her infancy, been the spoiled
favourite of her mother, whUe her father lavished his most
tender affections on her elder sister.' At this time Anne
was the best-beloved of his heart; he was never happy out
of her presence, he was never known to deny a request of
hers, though it was not very easy for her to make one, since
he anticipated her every want and wish. Of course her rank
and dignity were greatly augmented when he became a
reigning sovereign. Charles II. died on the birthday of Anne,
> See letter of her step-mother, at the end of this chapter, where she reminds
Mary that she was considered his best-beloved in infancy.

110 MARY IL
February 6, 1685. AU thoughts were directed to her on her
father's accession, for the people fully expected the succes
sion would be continued by her descendants. She had
brought into the world a daughter , in the reign of her uncle,
but this chUd scarcely Uved to be baptized. There was, how
ever, speedy promise of more offspring, insomuch that the
princess Anne could take no other part of her father's coro
nation (St. George's-day, 1685) than beholding it from a
close box in Westminster-abbey, which was prepared for her
below that of the ambassadors.
The princess Anne heard herself mentioned at the corona
tion of her father in the foUowing prayer : " O Lord, our
God, who upholdest and governest aU things in heaven and
earth, receive our humble prayers for our sovereign lord,
James, set over us by thy grace and providence to be our
king ; and so together with him bless his royal consort our
gracious queen Mary, Catharine the queen-dowager, their
royal highnesses Mary the princess of Orange, and the prin
cess Anne of Denmark, and the whole royal family.' Endue
them with thy holy Spirit, enrich them," &c. &c. concluding
in the words of the supplication for the royal family in om-
Uturgy. It is a remarkable circumstance, that James II.
thus particularly distinguished both his daughters by name
and titles in this prayer, although in that century, as in the
present, only the heir-apparent among the chUdren of the
sovereign, or at most an heir-presumptive, was usually men
tioned. In aU probabUity, he thus designated them to pre
vent all disputes regarding their title to the succession in
case of his death, as their mother was only a private gentle
woman. The princess of Orange and the princess Annp
were certainly thus named in the Uturgy every time divine
service was celebrated by the church of England until they
deposed their father : it is an instance that he was not dis
posed, in any way, to sUght their claims, either to royalty or
his paternal care. James II. was kinder to his daughters
' Sandford, repeated by Menin, in his Coronation Ceremonials of England,
p. 16. He edited tliis as a guide to the coronation of George IL, the <^re-
monial of which is printed with it.

MARY II, 111
' than George II, to his heir, for in the very volume which
gives this information, a similar prayer,' in the very words, is
quoted ; but in regard to the nomenclature, only king George
and his queen Caroline are prayed for; neither Frederick
prince of Wales nor their other chUdren are named.
Great friendship apparently prevaUed at the epoch of the
coronation between the princess Anne and her step-mother.
, Before the newly crowned queen, Mary Beatrice, commenced
her procession back to Westminster-haU, she entered the box
of the princess Anne,' to show her dress, and hold friendly
conference : Anne and prince George of Denmark, who bore
, his spouse company, conversed with her a considerable time.
The princess Anne accompanied the queen to behold the
. grand ceremony of the king's opening his first parUament ;
both Anne* and her step-mother were on the right of the
throne : they were considered incog. The princess of Den
mark had the satisfaction of hearing the pope and the Virgin
Mary fully defied and renounced before the Catholic queen.
Ten days afterwards. May 22, the princess Anne brought into
the world a daughter, who was baptized Mary, after the
princess of Orange. James II, himself announced this event
to "his son, the prince of Orange," in one of those famUiar
letters he wrote to him almost every post : " My daughter,
the princess of Denmark, was this day brought to bed of a
girl, I have not time to say more now, but to assure you
that I shaU always be as kind to you as you can desire,"*
Three days afterwards, the king mentions his uneasiness
regarding her health in another letter to WilUam. "My
daughter was taken Ul this morning, having had vapours,
[hysterics,] which sometimes trouble women in her condi
tion. This frighted us at first, but now, God be thanked,
our fears are over. She took some remedies, and has slept
after them most of this afternoon and evening, and is in a
very good way, which is a;U I can say to you now, but assure
you of my kindness," On any such alarm regarding the
' Menin's English Coronations ; in the Coronation-service for George II.
'^ King's MS. British Museum : Recueil de Pieces.
» Evelyn. * Dabymple's Appendix.

112 MARY IL
health of his beloved daughter, the king, who was a very
early riser, would enter her apartment and sit by her bed
side. Her uncle mentions that James's paternal tenderness
would bring him to the sick bed of the princess Anne as
early as five or six in the morning, and he often sat by her
for two hours.'
The state and homage James II. aUowed his youngest
daughter to assume at WhitehaU chapel are very remarkable.
James II. himself went to mass, but he permitted the prin
cess Anne to occupy the royal closet at WhitehaU, and at
other palace chapels; and it was his pleasure, that the same
honours were to be paid her as if he were present in person.
Evelyn being present at WhitehaU chapel, saw Dr. Tennison
make three conges towards the royal closet; after serrice,
Evelyn asked him, "Why he did so, as king James was
not there ?" Tennison repUed, that the king had given him
express orders to do so, whenever his daughter, the princess
Anne, was present.' The place of the princess was on the
left hand of the royal seat ; the clerk of the closet stood by
her chair, as if the king himself had been at chapel. This
anecdote is a confirmation of the positive assertion of James
himself and other authors, that he neither attempted to im
pede nor persecute her in her attendance on the church-of-
England worship, but rather to give every distinction and
encouragement to it.* It was, perhaps, an impoUtic indul
gence to feed his daughter's appetite for trifling ceremonials
of bowing and personal homage from the altar, as if she had
been the visible head of the estabUshed church; but James
IL, though an acute observer of facts, which he skilfully
combined as a commander, a coloniser, or a financier, knew
nothing of the higher science of the springs of passion on the
human mind. He treated his daughter Anne as the ultimate
heiress to the British throne ; he fostered in her disposition
an ambition for the mere externals of majesty, without con-
' Letters of James II. to the prince of Orange, dated June 2nd, (5th,) 1685,
Dalrymple's Appendix, part i. p. 17.
* Evelyn's Diary, vol. iii. p. 153.
' Lord Clarendon's Journal, vol, ui. p. 201. Duchess of Marlborough's Con
duct, p. 15.

MARY U. 113
sidering that she would not choose to relinquish it at the
birth of a brother. In the following letter, addressed to Dr.
Francis Turner, bishop of Ely, she seems to avoid aU these
distinctions, perhaps out of respect for the character of the
apostoUc man she wished to hear. The princess requested
him to keep a place for her in Ely chapel, to hear Dr. Ken
expound the church catechism.
"Peincess Anne oe Denmark to the Bishop oe E.it.'
"I hear the bishop of Bath and Wells expounds this afternoon at your
, chapel, and I have a great mind to hear him ; therefore I desire you would do
me the favour to let some place be kept for me, where I may hear' weU, and be
the least taken notice of, for I shaU bring but one lady with me, and desire I
may not be known. I should not have given you the trouble, but that I was
afraid if I had sent any body, they might have made a mistake. Pray let me
know what time it begins."
The princess Anne received from her father, at his acces
sion, an augmentation of revenue which was fit for the heir-
apparent of an empire. James II. made up her aUowance to
32,000/., being more than the income at present settled by
parUament on his royal highness prince Albert. When
tested by the great difference of financial arrangement from
the present day, the exceeding is enormous of such a sum in
soUd money. The whole yearly expenditure of the realm
was, in the reign of Charles II,, averaged at one mUUon and
a half per annum;' this sum, with the exception of the
crown-land income, constituted the whole outlay of king and
state. From this revenue, 32,000/. bestowed on the princess
Anne seems a Uberal share, James II,, by his financial skUl,
and his vigUance in defending the- taxes from the rapacity of
those who farmed them, raised the revenue of Great Britain
to 2,250,000/,, with which small sum he covered aU expenses,
and maintained a navy victorious over the seas of the world.
The value of the allowance he gave to his daughter Anne,
before the funded debt existed, must have been more than
' Quoted, by the biographer of bishop Ken, from the Gentleman's Magazine
for March 1814, having been communicated to that periodical by a gentleman
of the name of Fowke, who is in possession of the original. Dr. Francis Turner
was subsequently one of the bishops who were imprisoned by her father, and yet
refused to own aUegiance either to Mary II. or Anne.
* Toone's Chronology.
VOL. VII. I

114 MARY II.
double that sum in the present day.' " It cannot be denied,"
wrote a contemporary,' who had belonged to the court of
James IL, "that the king was a very kind parent to the
princess Anne : he inquired into her debts at Christmas 1685>
and took care to clear her of every one. Yet she made some
exceedings the year after, and lord Godolphin complained
and grumbled ; still her father paid aU she owed, without a
word of reproach."
The princess Anne, from the hour that another husband
was provided for her, wisely thought no more of the ac
complished earl of Mulgrave, who subsequently married
her iUegitimate sister, Catharine.* The prince of Denmark
was considered an example of the domestic affections, and
proved a kind, quiet husband. His easy and sensual life
in England very soon stifled his warlike energies under an
excess of corpulence. He could imbibe much wine with
out visible signs of inebriation, yet a smaU portion of his
potations would have reversed the reason of a temperate
man. Charles II. reproved the prince, in his jocose man
ner, for his tendency to sluggish indulgence. Unfortu
nately, the partiality of her Danish consort for the plea
sures of the table encouraged the same propensities in his
princess. He induced her, if not to drink, at least to
persist in eating more than did good to her health; in
stead of suppressing, he caused her to exaggerate her early
propensities to gluttony.
Although the princess Anne and the prince of Denmark
were nearly every twelvemonth the parents of chUdren, yet
their little ones either expired as soon as they saw the Ught,
or Ungered only five or six months. Their deaths were pro-
bajbly occasioned by hydrocephalus, which, when constitu
tional, sweeps off whole families of promising infants. The
1 James II.'s aUowance to his daughter Anne, (Lansdowne MS.) 
Prince and princess of Denmark, out of y' Excise £15,000 0 0
Postage  15,000 0 0
Ditto more by privy-seal, during pleasure . . 2,000 0 0
£ 32,000 0 0
* Roger Coke's Detection, vol. in. p. 187.
Daughter of James II. by Catharine Sedley,

MARY IL 115
third daughter of the princess Anne and prince George of
Denmark was born in May 1686, at Windsor-castle. Lady
ChurchiU and lady Roscommon were godmothers to this
infant, and gave it the name of Anne Sophia, The babe
was healthy : although the Uttle lady Mary was weakly and
languishing, yet the youngest gave every hope of reaching
maturity. These hopes were crueUy blighted six months
afterwards. Prince George was taken very iU at that time,
and remained many days in actual danger of death. The
princess nursed him most assiduously. Scarcely was she
reUeved from the hourly dread of seeing her husband ex
pire, when first the little lady Sophia suddenly feU ill, and
died on her mother's birthday,' and the second anniversary
of the decease of Charles II. The eldest infant had for
months been in a consumption; she expired within a few
hours. Thus the princess was left chUdless in one day.
Rachel lady Russell draws a pathetic picture of Anne's feel
ings, divided as they were between grief for the bereavement
of her offspring and anxiety for her husband. Her letters
are dated February 9th and 18th, 1686-7 : "The good prin
cess has taken her chastisement heavily : the first relief of
that sorrow proceeded from calming of a greater, the prince
being so ill of a fever. I never heard any relation more
moving than that of seeing them together. Sometimes they
wept, sometimes they mourned ru words, but hand-in-hand;
he sick in his bed, she the carefuUest nurse to him that can
be imagined. As soon as he was able, they went to Rich
mond-palace, which was Thursday last. The poor princess is
stUl wonderful sad. The chUdren were opened: the eldest
was aU consumed away, as expected, but the youngest quite
healthy, and every appearance for long life."' The infants
were buried in St. George's-chapel, Windsor. At the inter
ment of the Uttle lady Sophia, the burial-place of her grand
father, Charles I., was discovered in the chapel. Although
the date does not agree with the demise of these infants, yet
this Jetter of Mary princess of Orange to her brother-in-law,
' Dangeau's Memoirs, vol. i. p. 255.
« MS. letters of Rachel lady RusseU; Birch CoUections, Pint, cvi, p, 43.
I 2

116

MARY II.

prince George of Denmark, could not have pertained to any
other occasion: —
"Maey Peincess oe Oeanob to Peince Geoe(Jb oe Denmaek.'
"MONSIETIB MY BeOTHEE,
" I have learned with extreme concern (deplessir) the misfortune of my sister
by your letter, and I assure you that it touches me as nearly as if it had hap
pened to myself; but since it is the wiU of God, it must be submitted to with
patience. We have great cause to praise this good God that my sister is ui
such a good state, and I hope wUl re-establish her health entu-ely, and bless you
together with many other infants, who may Uve to console their parents for
those who are dead. I wish for some better occasion to testify to you how
much I am, monsieur my brother.

Q^^^ /^^^/fe^^

"From Loo, this 13th Novr.
" A Monsieur mon Frfere, le Prince George de Danmark."
At the succeeding Christmas, notwithstanding the Uhe-
raUty of her aUowance, the princess Anne was found to be
overwhelmed with debt.' As there was no outlay commen
surate with a second extravagant defalcation, Lawrence
Hyde, lord Rochester, the uncle of the princess, began to
suspect that some greedy favourites secretly drained her
funds. He did not keep his suspicions to himself, and the
person who testified consciousness by furious resentment,
was Sarah ChurchiU. The favourite, in consequence, visited
him through life with active hatred. Few pages of her
copious historical apologies occur without violent railings
' From the original, in French, in the possession of WUUam Upcott, esq.
The fac-simUe, entirely in the hand of the princess Mary, is published by Mr.
Netherclift. It is in rather a fair Italian hand: her signature is very like that
of Mary queen of Scots. There is no yearly date; it is probable that this
condolence was written on the death of the name-chUd of the pruicess of
Orange. '^ The Other Side of the Question, 47. This author is fully corroborated by
tiie duchess herself, and by Roger Coke.

MARY II. 117
against this lord treasurer, his wife, or some of the Clarendon
family. "Lady Clarendon," says Sarah ChurchiU, in one
of her inedited papers,' "aunt by marriage to the princess
Anne, was first lady of her bedchamber when the princess
was first established at the Cockpit. When lord Clarendon
was made lord-Ueutenant of Ireland, which obUged my lady
Clarendon to leave her service, the princess was very glad,
because, though she was considered a good woman, the prin
cess had taken an aversion to her. It was soon guessed that
I must succeed her in her post ; and at this time the prin
cess wrote to me ' that she intended to take two new pages
of the backstairs, she having then but two, one of whom was
extreme old and past service ; but that she would not do it
tiU my lady Clarendon was gone, that I might have the
advantage of putting in the two pages,' meaning that I
should seU these two places, for in those times it was openly
-aUowed to seU all employments in every office. And upon
this established custom and direction from the princess, (as
it was not to be expected that I should immediately set up
to reform the court in this respect,) I did seU these places :
with some other advantage, they came to 1200/.," — a tole
rably round sum of money before the national debt was in
stituted. The new pages were Roman-cathoUcs, and were pro
bably privately assisted into their situations of keeping the
backstairs of the dweUing rooms of the princess by some
official in the court of king James of that reUgion, whose
interest was concerned in the proceedings of Anne, to know
all persons who came to her, and what they said and did.
That king James had placed them himself is impossible, for
he had no suspicion of Anne ; and had he taken any under
hand measures to watch her conduct, his ruin could not have
faUen on him unawares as it did, accelerated by his children.
But as soon as Sarah ChurchiU had comfortably pocketed
her 1200/., the prince and princess of Orange by some means
discovered the fact that the two new pages of their sister
Anne's backstairs were Roman-catholics. Thefr vigUance on
> Coxe MSS. vol. xliv.; letter of the duchess of Marlborough to Mr. Hutchin
son, inedited. Brit. Mus.

118 MARY II.
a point important to the good success of the coming revolu
tion^ roused the princess Anne from the supine satisfaction
in which she reposed. Although her needy favourite had
made so exceUent a market, she was forced to command the
instant dismissal of her Roman-cathoUc attendants at the
door-stairs of her sitting rooms. The warning of the prin
cess of Orange not only displaced these dangerous watchers
on the conduct of the princess Anne, but had the consecu
tive result of obUging Sarah ChurchiU to refund eight hun
dred of the twelve hundred pounds she mentions having
recently netted on the occasion. However, four hundred
pounds clung to her fingers, which was a goodly gain for an
ineffectual recommendation. It is nevertheless to be feared,
that the personal hatred which avowedly had previously sub
sisted between the princess of Orange and Sarah ChurchiU,
was not soothed by the painful but inevitable process of
refunding the eight hundred pounds. It is worth remarking,
that the lady herself quotes the anecdote ' in support of her
own warm self-praises, as an instance of her scorn of making
money by seUing offices in her mistress's household. One
of these Roman-cathoUc pages, of the name of Gwynn, had
been a servant of the princess Anne of some standing; she
secured to him a salary for life, in compensation for the loss
of his place on account of his reUgion, In pecuniary trans
actions, Anne was always generous to the utmost of her
abUity, She discharged her old servitor for political reasons,
but left him not to starve.
Whether by gambling or by gifts to the ChurchUls, the
princess Anne again impaired her revenue and overwhelmed
herself with debts. Since the favourite of Anne previously
appeared on these pages, she had become lady ChurchiU.
By the influence of the king when duke of York, her
husband had been created lord ChurchUl, December 1683,
and given more substantial marks of favour, which, though
trifling in comparison with the enormous wealth this pair
afterwards drew from their country, deserved their gratitude,
' Coxe MSS, vol. xliv.; letter of the duchess of Marlborough to Mr, Hutchin
son, inedited. Brit, Mus,

MARY n. 119
The accounts of the princess passed through the hands of
one of Sarah's famiUars, whom she had introduced into the
establishment at the Cockpit. Assuredly, if rogues write
accounts of their "conduct," they ought to be "gifted"
with long memories. A Mr. Maule having proved ungrateful
to Sarah Churchill some months after the Revolution, she
recriminated in the foUowing words: "I had not only
brought him to be bedchamber-man to the prince, when he
was quite a stranger to the court, but, to mend his salary,
had invented an employment for him, — rthat of overlooking
the princess's accounts,'" The result of this bright inven
tion was, a flguring on the side of the debit column of the
princess's accounts of 7000/, higher than the credits, Anne
was very unhappy in consequence, and sent to her father to
lend her the deficient sum.
King James walked into the presence of his daughter,
on receiving this intelUgence, so unexpectedly, that Sarah
ChurchiU, and another lady of the princess's bedchamber,
(lady Fitzharding,) had only just time to shut themselves
in a closet. Anne permitted these women to remain there
as spies and eavesdroppers, Ustening to the confidential
communication between her father and herself. The king
gently reminded her "that he had made her a noble
aUowance, and that he had twice cheerfully paid her debts'
without one word of remonstrance; but that now he was
convinced that she had some one about her for whose sake
she plunged herself into inconveniences. Of these, his
paternal affection was willing once more to reUeve her, but,"
he added, " that she must observe a more exact economy for
the future." The princess Anne only answered her father
with tears. The moment king James departed, out burst
the two eavesdroppers from their hiding-place, lady ChurchiU
exclaiming, with her usual coarse vehemence, " Oh, madam!
aU this is owing to that old rascal, your uncle !"* It is not
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough. This invented employment was
paralleVin chronology, with these mysterious defalcations from the income of
her mistress-
» Letter of the princess Anne, regarding the fact of the payment of her debts.
» Other Side of the Question, p. 48,

120 MARY n.
wise for ladies, whether princesses or otherwise, to suffer
their women to caU their uncles or fathers " old rascals "
to their faces, and in their hearing. This abused uncle,
Lawrence Hyde, was a lord treasurer, of whose honesty the
flourishing revenue of a Ughtly taxed country bore honour
able witness. Being devoted to the reformed cathoUc church
of England, he would not retain his office when he found
that his royal brother-in-law was bent on removing the
penal laws, and introducing Roman-cathoUcs into places of
trust. The hatred of his niece and her favourite was not
appeased by his resignation of the treasury department.
This office, which was the object of lord Sunderland's desires,
and of his long series of political agitations, and of his pre
tended conversion to the Roman reUgion, seemed now within
his grasp. But James II. was too good a financier to trust
his revenue in the clutches of a known inveterate gambler:
he put the treasury into commission, associating lord Sun
derland with two other nobles. The furious animosity with
which the favourite of the princess of Denmark pursued
Sunderland, her mistress following her lead, proves that
neither of them had the slightest idea that he was working
a mine for the ruin of his master parallel to their own.
Meantime, the princess was forced to restrain her expen
diture. However ignorant the princess Anne and her favourite
were that Sunderland was an aUy in the same cause with
themselves, the princess of Orange was weU aware of it ; for
whUe he was affecting to be a convert to the church of Rome,
and was the prime-minister of James IL, he was carrying on,
by means of his wife, an intriguing correspondence with Wil
liam of Orange. A very extraordinary letter, in one hand
writing, but in two very different styles of diction, the joint
composition of this pair, was found in king WiUiam's box of
letters, after his death, at Kensington. The first part of it,
the composition of the male diplomatist, whoUy relates to
the best manner of circumventing James II.'s endeavours
for the parUamentary aboUtion of the penal and test acts,
warning the prince of Orange not to express approbation of

MARY II. 121
the measure. The postscript, or second letter, is an ema
nation from the mind of lady Sunderland, and is meant for
the princess of Orange, though personaUy addressed to her
spouse. It appears written under some dread lest the double
game they were playing should be detected by James II,,
who had, it wUl be observed, already suspected that lady Sun
derland corresponded with his daughter Mary: —
"Ladt Sundeeland to the Peince and Peincess oe Oeanoe.'
" I must beg leave of your highness to enclose a letter for Mr. Sidney, who
I hope wUl be with you very soon ; and tUl he comes, I beseech you to make no
answer to my letter, for fear of accident. For this had gone to you two posts
ago, but that an accident happened I thought it best not to pass over. Some
papists, the other day, that are not satisfied with my lord, [Sunderland,] said,
¦ That my lord Sunderland did not dance in a net ;' for ' they very weU knew
that, however he made king James believe, there were dispensations from
Holland as weU as from Rome, and that they were sure I held a correspondence
with the princess of Orange.' This happened the day I first heard of the pro
positions which I have writ, [i. e. about the test act,] which made me defer
sending tiU king James [IL] spoke to me of it, which he has done. And as I
oould very truly, so did I assure his majesty ' that I never had the honour to
have any commerce with the princess but about treacle-water, or worlc, or some
such sUght thing.' I did likewise assure his majesty, ' that if there had been
any commerce, I should never be ashamed, but, on the contrary, proud to own
it, seeing he m/ust he swre that the princess could never be capable of amy thmg,
with arvy body, to his disservice.'
"Now, how this fancy came into his head I cannot imagine, for, as your
highness knows, I never had the honour to write to you at all tiU now ; so the
princess of Orange knows I have been so unhappy as to have very Uttle
acquaintance with her, tUl of late I have had the obUgation to my lady Semple
and Mr. Sidney to have had an occasion of writing to her, which I value, and
wiU endeavour to continue and improve by all the zeal and esteem for her that
I am capable of, to my last breath. I have the Ul luck to write a very bad
hand, which, if your highness cannot read plain, (and few can,) I humbly beg of
you to keep it tiU Mr. Sidney comes, who is used to my hand.
" If, at this man's return, [suppose her messenger,] I can but hear that my
letter came safe, and that you pardon the Uberty I have taken, I shaU be very
much at ease. If, by the bearer, your highness wUl be pleased to let me know
my letter came safe to you, I shaU be very happy. "A. Sttndebland."
It is to be feared, that the commencement of the princess
of Orange's correspondence with the iUustrious Rachel lady
Russell had not for its object the generous sympathy with her
bereavements which that lady deserved from every one, or it
would have been offered years before. The foUowing is an
extract from its first opening ; it is, indeed, offensively con
descending. It seems in answer to some admiration for the
» Dalrymple's Appendix, pp. 189, 190.

123 MARY II.
princess expressed by lady RusseU to Dyckvelt, the Dutch
envoy,' — at least such is the opinion of Dr, Birch, in his
abstracts from the mass of the correspondence of the royal
family at this period, to which he had access. The princess
of Orange observes that she sends her letter by Mr. Herbert.,
" THE Peincess oe Oeange to Rachel Ladt Russell,
" Hounslardyke, July 12, 1687,
" I have aU the esteem for you which so good a character deserves, as I have
heard given of you by aU people, both before I left England and since I have
been here ; and have had as much pity as any could have of the sad misfortunes
you have had, with much more compassion when they happen to persons who
deserve so well."
James II. had previously felt uneasy at the proceedings
of Dyckvelt in England, which he expressed, in a letter to
his daughter Mary, thus : — " Windsor, May 30, 1687.
" I have reason to fear that mynheer Dyckvelt has taken wrong measures
of things here, by reason that many, who are not well affected to my person or
government, have pUed him very hard since he has been here."''
The king then recapitulates what he has done for the good of
the monarchy and nation in general. Probably there were
some rehgious topics discussed by James, for there foUowed,
soon after, an extract from Mary's reply: —
" Hounslardyke, June 17, 1687.
" 'When you wUl have me speak as I think, I cannot always be of the same
mind yom' majesty is ; what you do, seems too much to the prejudice of the
church I am of for me to lUie it."'
Letters which did honour to the humanity of both father and
daughter followed these. Mary had requested her father to
interfere with his mighty power, as ocean-king, to obtain the
Uberty of the crews of some Dutch fishing-boats taken by the
Algerines. In this she was certainly successful, or Dr. Birch
would have eagerly noted the contrary. Besides, the sup
pression of pirates was a noted feature of her father's govern
ment.'' When James II.'s intention of abolishing the penal laws
became apparent soon after the embassy of Penn, the prin
cess of Orange wrote the foUowiug letter to Sancroft, arch
bishop of Canterbury: —
' Birch MS. 4163, foUo 44, « Ibid, » Ibid,
^ See Dalrymple's Appendix, regarding the dreadful losses the EngUsh suffered
from.ph^acy, from the years 1689 tUl the strange afiair pf captain Kidd,

MAEY II. " 123
"THE Peincess op Oeange to Aechbishop Saitceoet.*
" Loo, October 1, 1687.
" Though I have not the advantage to know you, my lord of Canterbury,
yet the reputation you have makes me resolve not to lose this opportunity of
making myself more known to you than I have been yet. Dr. Stanley can
assure you that I take more interest in what concerns the church of England
than myselt and that one of the greatest satisfactions I can have is, to hear how
aU the clergy show themselves as firm to their reUgion as they have always been
to their king, which makes me hope God wiU preserve his church, since he has
so weU provided it with able men. I have nothing more to say, but beg your
prayers, and desire you will do me the justice to believe I shaU be very glad of
any occasion to show the esteem and veneration I have for you.
" To the Archbishop of Canterbury." " Mabie.
At the first receipt of this letter, the heart of the old man
warmed towards the writer. Sancroft was suffering under
the double affiiction of seeing his king, the son of his beloved
master, an aUen from the church of England, and even find
ing indications of persecution from him. Among his papers
was found a rough draft of an answer to Mary's letter, in
which, rather in sorrow than in anger, he thus offers an
apology for his royal master's secession from the reformed
church : —
" It hath seemed," wrote the archbishop, " good to the Infinite Wisdom, to
exercise this poor church with trials of aU sorts. But the greatest calamity that
ever befeU us was, that wicked and ungodly men who murdered the father,
[Charles I.] likewise drove out the sons, as if it were to say to them, ' Go, and
serve other gods,' the dismal effects hereof we feel every moment 
And although this (were it much more) cannot in the least shake or alter our
steady loyalty to our sovereign and the royal famUy, yet it embitters the com
forts left us : it blasts our present joys, and makes us sit down with sorrow in
dust and ashes. Blessed be God, who hath caused some dawn of light to break
from the eastern shore, in the constancy of your royal highness and the excel
lent prince towards us."''
The letter continues with tender and paternal expressions to
the princess of Orange, as one who, like Mary in the gospel,
"had chosen the better part." He speaks of himself "as an
old man sinking under the double burden of age and sor
row;" and he signed himself in the beautiful phraseology of
an earlier period, "her daUy orator at the throne of grace."
The extraordinary historical circumstances relating to the
princess of Orange and Sancroft archbishop of Canterbury,
render every incident which connects their names inta-esting.
It is needful to remark, that Sancroft's mind misgave him,
• Clarendon Letters, Appendix, part U. p. 488. ' Ibid., pp. 485, 486.

124 MARY n.
and he never sent the letter he had written; but avoiding
confidential discussions, he merely acknowledged the honour
the princess had done him with expressions of courtesy.
The princess of Orange received from her father a letter,
dated November 29th, 1687, in which he mentions his queen's
situation, with some particulars of her health, adding, as
news, "the death of Mrs. NeUy [Gwynne], and that she had
not left the duke of St. Albans so much as was believed." A
great increase of zeal for the welfare of the church of Eng
land was the only symptom shown by the princess of Orange
at the receipt of the inteUigence regarding her father's hopes
of offspring, — an event likely to be subversive of her hus
band's ambitious anticipations, in which there cannot exist
doubts that she fuUy participated, notwithstanding aU her
disclaiming speeches and letters on the subject of her suc
cession. One of these speeches, pertaining, perhaps, to an
earlier and better period of her Ufe, is to be found in Bur
net's manuscript. A person having presumed to ask the
princess of Orange, " If she knew her own mind so far, as to
apprehend how she could bear the king her father having a
son?" The princess answered, " She did not care to talk of
these things, lest it might seem an affectation, but she beUeved
she should be very Uttle troubled at it, for in aU these thiugg
the wUl of God was to be considered ; and if it were not for
doing good to others," she said, " for her own particular, it
would be better for her to Uve and die where she was.'"
Then commenced some rehgious controversy between the
father and daughter, which, however, was carried on in a
moderate manner. The king sent his daughter controversial
books by his resident minister, D'AlbevUle, from Whitehall,
February 24th, 1687-8. He wrote to her thus : " I pray God
to touch your heart, as he did your mother's, who, for many
years, was as zealous a Protestant, and as knowing in it, as
you can be." If the king thought that his daughter's firm
ness in her rehgious opmions could be shaken by an appeal
to the luemory of her dead mother, he was greatly mistaken,
Mary was at a tender age when she lost her mother; there is
• Burnet's MSS. 6584, Harleian,

MARY II. 125
no evidence, but quite the contrary, that she cherished either
love or respect for her. King James continued his contro
versial discussions, when writing to his daughter, in his letter
of February 28, 1687-8 : that "One of her instructors in reU
gion [Compton, bishop of London] holds several tenets which
do not agree with the true doctrine of the church of England.
This I was not told, but heard him declare it in the pulpit
many years since, in the chapel here at Whitehall, and I took
notice of it then to a bishop that stood by me. And I know
that several others of the clergy do so also, and lean much
more to the presbyterian tenets than they ought to do, and
they generally run more and more every day into those
opinions than ever they did, and quit their true principles."^
This was extraordinary language for the convert of Rome to
urge to his daughter, and shows a Ungering love for the
church of England, the tenets of which he thus aUowed were
those of a true church. The biographer of Dr. TUlotson'
insists, among the other great merits of that prelate, on his
having driven James IL, when duke of York, from WhitehaU
chapel by his controversial sermons, in 1672. Would it not
have been a far higher triumph to have kept him there, per
suading him to remain a true disciple of the church which
TiUotson at that time professed ?
At the commencement of the year 1688, Dr. Stanley, the
almoner of the princess of Orange, wrote, by her desire, this
letter to archbishop Sancroft : —
"De. Stanlet to the Aeohbishop oe Canteebttet.'
" The Hague, Jan. 24, 1687-8.
" I suppose your grace may have heard that the king hath not been wanting
to press his daughter here to be favourable to popery, but lest you should have
heard more than is true, I presume to acquaint your lordship with what hath
passed, her royal highness being pleased to make me privy to it, and giving me
an express leave to communicate it to your grace. Whatever reports have been
raised, king James hath scarcely ever either spoken or written to our exceUent
princess to persuade her to popery, till last Christmas, [1687,] when the
marquess d'AlbeviUe came hither; when the king, her father, sent by him a
very long letter written with his own hand, two sheets of paper, containing the
motives of his conversion to popery."
 *  » Additional MSS. 41G3, fol. 1. Birch MS.
* Dr. Birch, p. cxiv. vol. i. of Works of TiUotson.
» Clarendon Diary and Letters, vol. iv. pp. 486, 487.

126 MAEY II.
The letter mentioned here by Dr. Stanley is still in exist
ence;' it is written in James 11,'s best historical style. He
gives his daughter the history of his early youth, his strong
affection to the church of England, as inculcated by his be
loved tutor. Dr. Steward; he mentions the great pain his
mother (queen Henrietta) gave him by her persecution of
his young brother, Gloucester, and the disgrace he was in
with her for encouraging Gloucester to remain true to the
church of England in its adversity. King James informed
his daughter "that he was himself in his youth as zealous
as she could be for the church of England, yet no one en
deavoured in France to convert him' but a nun, who de
clared, when she found her labour in vain, that she would
pray for him vrithout ceasing." The rest of this document
narrates his reasons for his change to the church of Rome,
which may be spared here; even Dr. Stanley's abstract of
them we pass by, as containing nothing personal of the
daughter Mary herself : it has, also, long been familiar to his
torical readers. One little remark may be permitted that we
gather from James's narrative, that he changed his reUgion
rather out of contradiction, than from conviction of the su
periority of the Roman church over the reformed catholic
church; more from disgust of the polemic railing he heard
in the pulpit, than from any other motive, Dr, Stanley,
who was at that time almoner at the Hague, thus con
tinues : —
" Our excellent princess seeing this letter, written with the king's own hand,
was resolved to write an answer herself; as the king desired, without consulting
any of us, [her chaplains,] -that he might see she was very ready to ^ve an
account of herself. The very next day, being post-day, she made haste and
wrote a letter to king James, of two sheets of paper, (which she afterwards read
to me,) which truly I can without flattery say, was the best letter I ever saw,
treating James with that respect which became her father and king, and yet
speaking her mind freely and openly as beciime the cause of reUgion, and that

¦ WUliam III, preserved it, with a great many of his uncle's letters of friend
ship to him, in his chest at Kensmgton, See Dalrymple's Appendix, for the
whole letter.
2 The reason that queen Henrietta did not endeavour to disturb the religion
of her second son, was because of his proximity to the throne of Great Britam.
Her attack on young Gloucester's principles was whoUy in a worldly pomt of
view, that he, being a third son, might be provided for in the Roman church

MARY n. 127
she hoped that God would give her grace to Uve and die in that of the church of
England." The praises Dr. Stanley bestowed on the genius for con
troversy displayed by his princess, inspired her with the am
bition of having her letter seen and admired by archbishop
Sancroft; and therefore he kindly offered to send him a copy,
expressing, withal, his hopes that the archbishop would write
his commendations of the princess, and secretly send them to
Dr. TUlotson, who would forward them to her royal high
ness; "and if your grace," he adds, "doth take some notice
to her of her carriage in this affair as I have related it, I
beUeve it wUl be very acceptable to her."' No doubt it
would ; but archbishop Sancroft was not the man who deem
ed that a private letter from a daughter to a father should
be blazoned abroad, for however she might have the best of
the argument, a public and ostentatious exposure of the
errors of a parent is not the most respectable road to the
praise of others. Piety, unaUoyed by the leaven of the
Pharisee, would have laboured with fiUal love to induce a
change in her unfortunate sire, without parade or canvassing
for admiration. Such were the feelings of archbishop San
croft on this subject. Not one word in reply did he send
to the Hague, yet, with stern integrity, he relaxed not his
steady opposition to the course his sovereign was pursuing.
The first day of the year 1687-8 brought inteUigence
which roused the princess Anne and her miniature court
from exclusive attention to their own petty politics and in
trigues, to the apprehension that the reversionary prospect
of her wearing, one day, the crown of Great Britain, might
be altogether obscured by the birth of an heir-apparent.
Thanks were that day offered up in all churches in England
that the queen of James II. was enceinte. Every intrigue
that had existed between the malcontents of England and
HoUand forthwith grew UveUer; from that moment the
secret correspondence from England, maintained by aU sorts
and conditions of persons with Mary and her husband, daily
» Clarendon Letters and Diary; Appendix, part iv. p. 488.

128 MAEY II.
increased. There were few persons at the court of James
but were playing the parts of spies, with various degrees of
treachery. Many of these correspondents were exceedingly
bitter against each other ; and if Mary of Orange had been
a phUosophic observer of character, she had curious oppor
tunities for exercising her reflective powers, as the letters she
hourly received unveiled the clashing interests and opinions
of her correspondents. At the head of this band of her
father's enemies figures her sister, his deeply loved and in
dulged darling, the princess Anne. A bitter and malicious
pen did Anne hold in her youth;' perhaps the spirit of Sarah
Churchill, her favourite and ruler, inspired her with a portion
of its venom : her chief hatred was towards the queen, her
step-mother, and lady Sunderland. In this series of letters
the two sisters had nicknames for their father and his queen,
who, in their correspondence, were " Mansel and Mansel's
wife;" the prime-minister, Sunderland, and his countess,
were " Rogers and Rogers' wife." Sunderland and his wife
had been foremost among the secret agents aiding the ma
chinations of WiUiam and Mary. This fact was not known
to Anne, who indulged her spirit of envious detraction when
ever she mentioned lady Sunderland, and the traits she deh-
neated in various of her epistles of this person, for the infor
mation of her sister Mary, form a portrait graphically drawn,
and certainly a Ukeness ; yet the spirit in which the letters
are written, creates more abhorrence for the writer than
for the subject. —
"THE Peincess oe Denmaek to Maet Peincess of Oeange.
" Cockpit, March 20, 1688.
" I can't end my letter without telUng you that lady Sunderland plays the
hypocrite more than ever, for she goes to St. Martin's church morning and
afternoon, because there are not people enough to see her at WhitehaU chapel,
and is half an hour before other people, and half an hour after every body is
' The answers of the princess of Orange are not to be found, they can only
be guessed by the tenor of her sister's epistles; from them it may he pre
sumed that they were written with caution, and couched in more respectable
language than the emanations fi-om the mind of the princess Anne, guided by
Sarah ChurchiU. It is probable that WUliam of Orange presorved the letters
of the princess Anne to his wife, as proofs that the slanders regarding the birth
of the unfortunate heir of his uncle did not originate in HoUand.

MARY IL 129
gone, at her private devotions.' She runs from church to church, and keeps
up such a clatter with her devotions, that it reaUy turns one's stomach. Sure
there never was a couple so weU matched as she and her good husband, for
as she is throughout the greatest jade that ever was, so he is the subtlest
loorMngests^ viUain that is on the face of the earth.
" I hope you wiU instruct Berkley what you would have your friends do if
any okwasion [occasion] should exist, as it is to be feared there wiU, especiaUy
if Mansel [her father] lias a son, which I conclude he wiU, there being so much
reason to beUeve  for methinks, if it were not, there having been
so many stories and fnss made about it'  On the contrary, when
any one talks of her situation, she looks as if she were afraid we should touch
her ; and whenever I have happened to be in the room, and she has been un
dressing, she has always gone in the bedroom  These things give
me so much suspicion, that I beUeve, when she is brought to bed, no one wiU
be convinced 'tis her child, unless it prove a daughter."
Can any thing be more utterly absurd than this expression ?
particularly, as the poor queen had previously brought into
the world a son, there could be no possible reason why she
should not bear another now. The princess Anne seems to
have forgotten that the babe must have been either daughter
or son. Probably the "Berkley" whom she mentions in the
commencement was her first lady, one of the VUUers sisters,
who had undertaken a voyage to HoUand " on okwasions" —
to use the droU orthography of her royal highness — that she
considered were safer uttered by word of mouth than com
mitted to paper.
The princess Anne of Denmark meditated a voyage to
HoUand. She thus testifies her displeasure at her father's
prohibition of her tour to the Hague : —
" I am denied the satisfaction of seeing you, my dearest sister, this spring,
though the king gave me leave when I first asked it. I impute this to lord
Sunderland, for the king trusts him with every thing, and he, going on so
fiercely in the interests of the papists, is afraid you should be told a true cha
racter of him. You may remember I have once before ventured to teU you
' Birch MS. There must have been some difference in the time of closing
of places of worship before the Revolution, or lady Sunderland could not have
remained so long.
'^ So written. She means, ' the most subtle-working viUain.'
' Part of this letter is omitted, on account of the coarseness and vulgarity of
Anne's language. The reader, who has previously perused the Life of Mary
Beatrice, wiU remember that this was only the revival of the injurious reports
circulated against the reaUty of the pregnancy of that princess previously to her
last accouchement ; but as that infant proved a daughter, no more was hp.ard of
the alleged fraud.
VOL. VII. K

130 MARY n.
that I thought lord Sunderland a very ill man, and I am more confirmed evciy
day in that opinion. Every body knows how often this man turned backwards
and forwards in the late king's time ; and now, to complete all his virtues, he
is working with aU his might to bring in popery. He is perpetually with the
priests, and stirs up the king to do things faster than I believe he would of
himself. " This worthy lord does not go pubUcly to mass, but hears it privately in a
priest's chamber. His lady [Sunderland] is as extraordinary in her kind, for
she is a flattering, dissembliiig, false woman; but she has so fawning and
endearing a way, that she wUl deceive any body at first, and it is not possible to
find out aU her ways in a Uttle time. She cares not at what rate she Uves, but
never pays any body. She wUl cheat, though it be for a Uttle. Then she has
had her gallants, though, may be, not so many as some ladies here ; and with aU
these good quaUties she is a constant church-woman, so that, to outward appear
ance, one would take her for a saint ; and to hear her talk, you would think she
were a very good Protestant, but she is as much one as the other, for it is
certain that her lord does nothing without her.
" One thing I forgot to teU you about this noble lord, which is, that it is
thought if every thing does not go here as he would have it, that he wUl pick
a quarrel with the court and so retire, and by that means it is possible he may
make his court to you."
By this sentence, Anne plainly shows she was ignorant that
Sunderland's court was already made to the powers at the
Hague. Such was the spirit in which these princesses corresponded.
Much have we been forced to suppress, as unfit for family
readiug, with the remark, that good women would have lost
all the regaUty the world could offer, rather than have held
such a correspondence, or become the fosterers of such an
intiigue as that by which they proclaimed their unfortimate
brother a spm-ious heir. This plot evidently originated in
the brain of the princess Anne and her colleagues. It was
fiist broached in the letter of March, before quoted, three
months before the hapless infant it disinherited saw the light.
In another letter, too thoroughly coarse and odious to quote,
addressed to her sister Mary, and dated from the Cockpit,
March 1688, Anne agam affirms, "that if the expected royal
offspring should not prove a daughter, she wUl not beUeve it
to be the queen's chUd."
Nearly at the same time, D'Avaux, the French ambas
sador to the states of HoUand, wrote to his court, "that if
the queen of James II. was put to bed of a son, the prince
of Orange was resolved to attempt to seize the British crown;

MARY II. 131
for he was sure that the Calvinists in England would not
permit any prince of Wales to supersede the rights of his
wife." The people of Great Britain were perfectly right
solemnly to refuse to acknowledge a successor who was not
to be educated in the established reUgion: their determina
tion, simply and firmly expressed, without false witness or
calumny, would have been sufficient. The people in reality
acted thus, and acted well : the falsehood and calumny did
not originate with them, but with the two daughters and the
nephew of James II. And, in the face of the odious docu
ments they have left, how can we call their evil good? It
would indeed be a vain attempt, because no reader of the
documents left by the princesses could come to the same
opinion. In one of the letters aUuded to, the princess Anne insinu
ates to her sister, that her life would be in danger from her
father if she visited England. The undeviating indiUgence
and personal kindness of this most unfortunate father to
these daughters has been shown by a succession of facts.
It was a part of his lot, which, as he has declared in his
memoirs, he felt to be peculiarly bitter, that his chUdren,
who ought to have compared his conduct to them from their
youth upwards, could accuse him of either intending to
destroy them, or of meaning to supplant them by the impos
ture of pretended offspring. Here are the words of Anne : —
" There is one thing about yourself that I cannot help giving my opinion in ;
which is, that if king James should desire you and the prince of Orange to
come over to make him a visit, I think it would be better (if you can make
any handsome excuse) not to do it ; for though I dare swear the king could
have no thought against either of yov,, yet, since people can say one thing and
do another, one cannot help being afraid. If either of you should come, I
should be very glad to see you ; but, reaUy, if you or the prince should come, I
should be frightened out of my wits, for fear any ha/rm should happen to
either of you"
After this incendiary missive,' the correspondence was
interrupted for a short time by an Ulness of the princess
' Anne, who was acting the part of the cat in the fable, had reason to dread
that a personal interview should take place between the pai-ent she was slander
ing and her sister Mary. One hour of unrestrained personal conference between
the unfortunate monarch and his eldest daughter would, in all probabUity, have
averted his fall. The possihiUty of Mary seeing the queen in her present situa
tion was also dreaded by Anne.
K 2

132 MARY IL
Anne. Her father was greatly alarmed, and rose early to
visit her on the morning of April the 16th, 1688. Her
uncle, lord Clarendon, had been roused at four in the mom-
ing with the tidings of her danger ; he hurried to the Cock
pit to see her, and found the anxious parent sitting by her
bedside. CoiUd he have had one glance at the calumnies
which were going to Holland every post from that very
daughter, what would have been his reflections on the con
trast in the affections of the father with that of the child?
It does not appear that James II. ever resorted to the same
means of reading private letters which we have seen practised
by the prince of Orange. The Stuarts were weak enough
to deem that similar proceedings were inconsistent with the
honour of gentlemen.
Doubts have been raised regarding prince George of Den
mark's reUgion, but wrongfully, for father Petre uses this
expression concerning him, in a letter to pere la Chaise : —
" He is a prince with whom I cannot discourse of rchgion,
Luther was never more earnest than prince George. It is
for this reason that king James, who loves not to be denied,
never has pressed him in that matter," From the same
letter the following curious anecdote is derived. "All the
king's priests and Jesuits one day combined together, to
induce king James to confer with his daughter Anne about
religion, saying, ' How would any one be of their faith, when
the heirs were Protestants?' The king requested them to
leave his daughters to him, and to mind their own concerns."
The princess went, on her recovery, to visit her father
at his palace of Richmond, from whence she vented her
hatred to her unfortunate step-mother in the foUowing
letter ; — "THE Peincess Anne to the Peincess ov Oeange.'
" Richmond, 9th May, 1688.
" The queen, you must know, is of a very proud and haughty humour, and
though she pretends to hate all form and ceremony, one sees that those who
make their court that way are very well thought of. She declares, always, that
she loves sincerity and hates flattery ; but when the grossest flattery in tho
world is said to her face, she seems exceedingly well pleased with it. It really
' Dalrymple's Appendix, p. 174,

MAEY II. 133
U enough to turn onc'g ttomach to hear what things are said to her of that
kind, and to sec how mightily she is satisfied with it. All these things lady
Sunderland ha» in perfection, to make iier court to her : she is now much
oftenir with the qnc<!n than she used to be. It is a sad, and a very uni^sy
thing, to be forced to live civUly, and oh it were freely, with a woman that
every one knows hates one, and docs all she can to undo every body, which she
[lady Sunderland] certainly does.
" One thin^r I must say of the queen, which is, that she is the most hated in
the world of aU sorts <ii' people; for every body believes that she presses the
king to be nvm: violent than he would be himself, which is not unlikely, for she
is a very great bigot in her way. All ladies of quality say she is so jnTOud, that
tlicy dcm't care to come oftcner than tiny needs must, just out of mere duty ;
and, indwsd, she has not so great court as she used to have. She pretends to
liavc a great deal of kindness for me ; but 1 doubt it is not real, for I never see
proofs (jf it, but rather the contrary."
The gossip of that day circulated a story that the queen,
as she sat at her toilet with the princess Anne, had, on some
dispute between them, tossed her glove in the princess's face.'
Thi.s tale, if true, would never have been omitted by Anne in
her correspondence, were it only to justify the hatred she
virulently expresses against her hapless step-mother, whose
manner to her, she is obliged to own, expresses not only
poUtencss, " but a great deal of kindness." Now, tossing a
glove in a person's face is not consistent with either poUte-
ness or kindness ; nor does the princess Anne attempt any
excuse for her envenomed hatred, excepting her own sus
picions that the queen's affection was not real, together with
her envy of the flatteries and distinctions of royalty with
which she was surrounded. At the conclusion of this letter,
the princess Anne repeated her expectations that her father
would persecute her by attacks on her religious principles.
This he certainly never did, even when she was a child.
However, she says that she supposes the persecution would
begin when her husband, prince George, went to visit the
court of Denmark that summer. The an-angement between
the princesses of Orange and Denmark was, that prince
George was to escort the latter to the Hague, where she was
to stay on a visit tUl his return from his own country.' This
plan was entirely forbidden by James IL, and Anne, in the
course of her correspondence, often expressed her anger at
' Lcdiard*! Life of Mariborongh, vol. i. p. 69.
• BariUon'g Despatchei, March 1688.

134 MARY II.
his prohibition. It is difficult to divine Anne's reasons for
desiring to leave England at this crisis, unless she intended
to make the same political use of her absence which she
afterwards did, when she insisted on going to Bath previ
ously to the accouchement of the queen, to avoid being a
witness of her brother's birth, that she might enjoy the
opportunity of raising an outcry by means of her partisans,
as if she had been forced to withdraw. Had the visit been
permitted, lady ChurchUl, who ruled the princess Anne,
would have been her companion, and it would have been
utterly impossible for her to have restrained her propensity
at the court of the princess of Orange to disseminate strife
and quarrel with aU around her. Indeed, from the furious
divisions which subsequently took place when these persons,
at this era so strongly united against the king and queen,
came in contact with each other, it may be guessed what
would have been the result had the king aUowed his
daughter Anne to visit her sister at the Hague,
The princess of Orange, in a letter which is not forth
coming, had ventured to express to her sister disgust and
distrust of the manners and disposition of her favourite,
wliich was answered in the foUowing terms : — "March, 1688.
" Sorry people have taken such pains to give so Ul a character of [lady]
ChurchiU : I believe there is nobody in the world has better notions of religion
than she has. It is true she is not so strict as some are, nor does she keep such
a bustle with reUgion ; which I confess I think is never the worse, for one sees
so many saints mere devUs, that if one be a good Christian, the less show one
makes the better in my opinion. Then, as for moral principles, 'tis impossible
to have better, and without, all that lifting up of the hands and eyes, and often
going to church, wiU prove but a very lame devotion. One thing more I must
say for her, which is, that she has a true sense of the doctrine of our chm'cli,
and abhors all the principles of the church of Rome ; so, as to this particular, I
assure you she wiU never change. The same thing I wiU venture, now I am on
this subject, to say for her lord; for tliough he is a very faitliful servant to king
James, and the king is very kind to him, and I believe he will always obey the
king in all things that are consistent with reUgion, yet rather than change that,
1 dare say he will lose aU his places, and every thing that he has. The king
once talked to her upon religion, upon occasion of her talking to some lady, or
looking another way, when a priest said grace at the king's table."
This defence is indisputably written in lady ChurchiU's own
bold style of composition. The princess of Orange found
from it that she had committed a mistake by expressing her

MARY II. 135
opinion of that favourite, whom she afterwards sought to
propitiate by the foUowing soothing biUet : —
"THE Peincess of Oeange to Ladt Chttechill.'
" Dr. Stanley's going to England is too good an opportunity for me to lose,
of assuring lady ChurchUl she cannot give me greater satisfaction than in letting
me know the firm resolution both lord ChurchiU and you have taken never to
be wanting in what you owe to your reUgion. Such a generous resolution, I
am sure, must make you deserve the esteem of aU good people, and my sister's
in particular. I need say nothing of mine : you have it upon a double account
as my sister's friend, besides what I have said already, and you may be assured
that I shaU always be glad of an occasion to show it both to your lord and you.
" I have nothing more to add ; for your friendship makes my sister as dear to
you as to me, and I am persuaded we shaU ever agree in our care of her, as I
believe she and I should in our kindness for you, were we near enough to renew
our acquaintance. " Maeie."
Another of these agreeable and friendly notes was written
by the princess of Orange to the woman of whom she avowed
" so iU an opinion " before, as well as after the Revolution.
The efforts of Mary, nevertheless, were vain to paUiate the
political blunder she had committed by her first genuine
expression of aversion, which had assuredly been commu
nicated by Anne to its object. All these caresses, and hints
of future kindness when near enough, only effected an al
liance between the house of Orange and that of ChurchUl
for a few important months : —
"the Peincess op Oeange to Ladt Chuechill. tj^-q ^ate.-|
" If it were as easy for me to write to my lady ChurchiU as it is hard to find
a safe hand, she might justly wonder at my long silence, but I hope she does
me more justice than to think it my fault. I have little to say at present, but
that I hope my sister and you wiU never part. I send you here one [letter] for
her, and have not any more time now, than only to assure you that I shall
never forget the kin^ess you showed to her who is so dear to me. Tliat, and
all the good I have heard of you, wiU make me ever your affectionate friend,
which I shaU be ready to show otherwise than by words when I have the oppor
tunity. " Maeie."
The letters of Anne at last announced to her sister in Hol
land, that an unfortunate brother had made his entrance into
a world which proved so very adverse to him. This event,
calamitous to himself, to his country, and to his father and
mother, took place on Trinity- Sunday morning, Jime 10th,
1688.* The princess Anue had betaken herself to Bath on
• Dalrymple's Appendix, p. 303.
" See the Life of Mary Beatrice of Modena.

136 MARY IL
pretence of her situation needing the waters, in order that
she might not be present at the queen's accouchement; never
theless, she wrote to her sister in the foUowing strain. She
had arrived in London from Bath, with prince George, on the
15th of June, and the priuce saUed for Denmark two days
afterwards. " The Cockpit, June 18, 1688.
" My dear sister can't imagine the concern and vexation I have been in, that
I should be so unfortunate to be out of tovm when the queen was brought to
bed, for I shaU never now be satisfied whether the chUd be true or false. It
may be it is our brother, but God knows  ."
Anne's vaciUation between her own interest and her con
science is visible throughout the composition of this epistle.
She continues, —
" After aU this, 'tis possible it may be her chUd, [the queen's,] but where
one believes it, a thousand do not. For my part, except they do give very
plain demonstrations, (which 'tis almost impossible now,) I shall ever be of the
number of the unheUevers. I don't find that people are at aU disheartened, but
seem aU of a mind, which is a very comfortable thing at such a time as this."
Thus the princess Anne affirms of herself, that she found
it " a very comfortable thing " for every body to beUeve that
her father, from whom she had never received an angry
word, could be guilty of the crime of imposing a spurious
heir, not only on his country, but on himself and his family.
When the crown coveted by Anne had been burning on
her brow for a few years, her ideas of the comforts arising
from gratified ambition were different, to which the details
of her physician, Dr, Arbuthnot, bear melancholy witness.
Part of the time of her husband's absence in Denmark,
which lasted tUl October, was passed by Anne in visits to
her father, for her letters are dated from Windsor or Rich
mond-palace. In one of these she says, —
" Though we agree in matters of reUgion, yet I can't help fearing that you
are not of my opinion in other matters, because you have never answered me to
amy thing that I home said of Roger, [lord Sunderland,] nor of Mansel's [her
father's] wife?"'
It is not difficult to gather from this last epistle, that Mary
had exercised a certain degree of caution in noticing the
scandalous insinuations of Anne, who nevertheless proceeded
Lu the same strain, and in the next letter outwardly exults
> Dalrymple's Appendix, p. 304.

MARY IL 137
in the expected demise of her unwelcome little brother in
these words. It may be noticed, tliat in her glee at this
anticipation she calls him by his title, — a sure proof of the
private conviction of her own heart, for the expectation of
his death did not alter the fact of the imposture, supposing
such had reaUy taken place. "The Cockpit, July 9, 1688.'
" The prince of Wales has been iU these three or four days ; and if he has
been so bad as people say, I beUeve it wiU not be long before he is an angel in
heaven." At last, the princess of Orange responded to the principal
subject of her sister's letters, by sending to her a string of
queries relative to the birth of the prince of Wales, couched
in language inadmissible here. They were answered in the
same style by the princess Anne, who prefaced and ended
her answers with the foUowing epistle : —
"THE Peincess Anne oe Denmaek to the Peincess oe Oeange.'
" The Cockpit, July 24, 1688.
" I received yesterday yours of the 19th, by which I find you are not satisfied
with the account I have given you in my last letter; but I hope you will
forgive me for being no more particular, when you consider that not being upon
the place, aU I could know must be from others, and having then been but a
few days in town, I had not time to inquire so narrowly into things, as I have
since. But, before I say any more, I can't help teUing you I am very sorry you
shoidd think I would be negligent in letting you know things of any con
sequence ; for though I am generally lazy, and it is true, indeed, when I write
by post, for the most part I make those letters very short, not daring to teU
you any news by it, and being very iU at invention, yet I hope you wUl forgive
my being lazy when I write such letters, since I have never missed any oppor
tunity of giving you aU the inteUigence I am able ; and pray be not so unjust to
believe I can think the doing any thing you can desire any trouble, for, certainly,
I would do a great deal more for you, if it lay in my power, than the answering
your questions, which I shaU now do as exactly as you desire."
These answers cannot be transcribed here, being given to
technical questions only comprehensible to medical persons,
though needlessly rendered disgusting by the princess Anne's
irreclaimable vulgarity of soul. Occasionally she betrayed,
unconsciously, her actual beUef in the identity of her unfor
tunate brother, and the same conviction must have occurred
to the clearer brain of the princess of Orange. Nothing
that the privy councU afterwards received as evidence could
bring stronger testimony of that truth, than the queries and
> Dabymple's Appendix, p. 304. » Ibid., p, 308.

138 MARY II.
replies of these sisters. Anne, after finishing her answers^
concludes her epistle in these words : —
" I have done my endeavour to inform myself of every thing, for I have spoke
with Mrs. Dawson, and asked her aU the questions I could think of, (for not
being in the room when the queen was brought to bed, one must inquire of
somebody that was there), and I thought she could tell me as much as any
body, and would be less likely to speak of it. And I took aU the care I could,
when I spoke to her, to do it in such a manner that I might know every thing,
and in case she should betray me, that the king and queen should not be angry
with me."
Mrs. Dawson was an elderly lady, of the estabUshed
reUgion. She belonged to the royal household, and had
been present with Anne Hyde, duchess of York, when both
the princesses Mary and Anne were bom. At a subsequent
period, she more solemnly attested to Anne that the prince
of Wales was as much the son of the queen, as she was the
daughter of the duchess of York. Her conversation with
Anne at this juncture, had again awakened some qualms of
conscience in the bosom of that princess, for she concludes
her letter with the following admission : —
" All she [Mrs. Dawson] says seems wonderfully clear ; but one does not
know what to think, for methinks it is wonderftil, if it is no cheat, that they
never took pains to convince me of it. I hope I have answered your letter as
fully as you desire ; if there be any thing else you would know, pray teU me by
the first safe hand, and you shaU always find me very dUigent in obeying you,
and showing, by my actions, how real and sincere my kindness is."
Nothing could be more embarrassing to a mind predeter
mined as that of the princess of Orange to view the birth of
her unwelcome brother with hostUity, than the tender and
friendly letters she received from home by every post, written
either by her father or his queen. She had been given no
feasible reason for resentment, and it was difficult to repulse
the tone of family affection which had been accustomed to
greet her with Uttle billets of remembrance. The imfortu-
nate queen of her father employed her first convalescence
in writing to her, addressing her biUet to "her dear Le
mon." ' It will be remembered, that this was a fond name
invented at St. James's when the princess married, in con
tradistinction to the name of Orange. How utterly uncon
scious the queen must have been of the detestable corre-
' Historical Letters, edited by sir H. ElUs ; first Series, vol. iu.

MARY n. 139
spondence regarding her passing between her step- daughters,
the use of this Uttle endearment shows. From the answer
of the princess of Orange, the queen gathered that the
friendship which she had formerly professed for her was
estranged. Again the princess received a letter,' difficult
to answer, the tone being that of tender remonstrance.
The repUes of the princess of Orange to the queen's letters
seem to have been cold and ambiguous; they are not pre
served, but many indicatioiis of her latent displeasure daily
reached England. A grand f^te, with fireworks, had been
given to the resident ministers at the Hague by the British
legation, in order to celebrate the bfrth of the prince of
Wales. The maids of the princess of Orange had been in
vited guests; these ladies were not content with refusals,
but they manifested great anger, and revUed the inviter.'
Moreover, it was observed that the prince of Wales had not
constantly the benefit of the prayers of his sister in her
English chapel : sometimes he was prayed for, and some
times, as her father observes, quite omitted. When her
father heard of this neglect he wrote a letter of remon
strance,^ in which he asked his daughter the difficult question
of "what offence had been given?" Her answer is pre
served among her father's papers. It will be noticed, that
she had somewhat lost her English orthography: —
"the Peincess oe Oeange to James II.^
"Sie, "Hague, August 17, 1688.
" Being to go to Loo next Thursday, if it please God, I am come to this
place [Hague] to go bake at night. Last Thursday I received your ma,jesty's
of the 31st of July, by which I see you had heard that the prince of Wales was
no more prayed for in my chapeU ; but long before this, you will know that it
had onely bin sometimes forgot. M. d' AlbevUle can assure you I never told
him it was forbid, so that they wear only conjectures made upon its being some
times neglected ; but he can tell, as I find your majesty already knows, that he
[the prince of Wales] was prayed for heer long before it was done iu England.
' Historical Letters, edited by sir H. EUis; first Series, vol. in. For the
letters, see Life of Mary Beatrice.
2 Anibassades of D'Avaux : vol. vi. p. 333. It must be recoUected that aU
ambassadors were sent to the States of HoUand, and not to the prince of
Orange, who was but their functionary.
' Birch MS. There are only a few words from this letter extracted by Birch,
* Original Papers, edited by Macpherson, vol, i.

140 MARY II.
" This excessive hot wether contmues longer than I ever knew it, which I
shaU find sufficiently in my journey ; I have nothing more to add at present,
than only to beg your majesty to believe, wherever I am, I shall stiU be your
majesty's most obedient daughter and servant, " Maeie."
Another letter of remonstrance was received by the princess
of Orange from her father's wife, who anxiously required
from her step-daughter expressions of sisterly love towards
the new-born infant.' The correspondence continued be
tween the princess of Orange and the queen untU the land
ing of WiUiam. Now and then a letter has been preserved,
either by James II. or WiUiam III., which presents us with
a tantaUzing gUmpse of their conduct and feelings.
There is reason to suppose that the practice of toleration
of different sects was nearly on the same footing, in the year
1688, as it is at the present time, since the princess Anne
thus writes to her sister : —
" It is a melancholy prospect that all we of the church of England have.
AU sectaries may now do as they please. Mvery one has the free exercise of
their religion, on purpose, no doubt, to ruin us, which I think, to all impartial
judges, is very plain. For my part, I expect every moment to be spoke to
about my reUgion, and wonder very much I have heard nothing of it yet."
Anne, throughout the summer, vainly awaited some per
secution from her father. She reiterates this expectation
so often, that she must have been disappointed that it never
came. She paid a visit to her father at Windsor-castle
during her husband's absence in Denmark. She wrote to
her sister thus : — " Windsor, August 18, 1688.
" I am in as great expectation of being tormented as ever, for I never can
believe that Mansel [the king her father] would go on so violently, if he had
not s jme hopes that in time he may gain either you or me."
For the first time, some cause of alarm seemed to exist,
since, whUe she was alone at Windsor with the king her
father, he introduced the pope's legate to her when the
queen was holding a grand drawing-room at the castle,'
Nothing further came of this presentation than fright. The
princess attended sermons and lectures three times in St.
George's chapel that day, as a security against the insidious
' Historical Letters, edited by sir H. ElUs; first Series, vol. iii. See the
letter. Life of Mary Beatrice.
' Bishop Cartwright'a Diary j published by the Camden Society.

MARY U. 141
attacks of the newly arrived legate, whom her father had
madly invited, or rather forced,' into his dominions, to in
cense the people to revolution. Directly Sancroft and his
prelates were incarcerated in the Tower, the princess of
Oi'ange caused another epistle to be addressed to him, by the
pen of Dr, Stanley, from Hounslardyke, where her court
was then abiding, to inform him of the exultation with which
his firm resistance to the Roman-cathoUc king's behests was
viewed in HoUand : —
" AU men," wrote Dr. Stanley, " that love the Reformation, do rejoice in it,
and thank God for it, as an act most resolute and every way becoming your
places. But, especially, our excellent prince and princess were weU pleased with
it, (notwithstanding all that the marquess of AlbevUle, the king's envoy here,
could say against it,) that they have both vindicated it before him, and given
me a command, in their names, to return your grace their hearty thanks for it,
and at the same time to express their real concern for your grace and aU your
brethren, and for the good cause in which your grace is engaged; and your
refiising to comply with the king [James II.] is by no means looked upon by
them as tending to disparage the monarchy, for they reckon the monarchy to be
really undervalued by iUegal actions. Indeed, we have great reason to bless and
thank God for their highnesses' steadiness iu so good a cause."
No response did aU these notes of exultation elicit from the
venerable patriarch of the reformed church. Bowed down
with sorrow, mourning over the wounds that beloved church
was receiving through the apostacy of the king, whose duty
it was to protect her, he anticipated no very great ame-
Uoration of them from a foreigner, whose belief vibrated
between deism and predestinarianism. No flattery could
obtain from Sancroft one murmur, one factious complaint.
He had companions in his imprisonment, spirits worthy of
communion with his own. One was Dr. Ken, the late
almoner of the princess of Orange, bishop of Bath and
Wells. It must have been from him that Sancroft derived
his deep distrust of the motives of the prince and princess
of Orange, for Ken had been domesticated with the prince,
had been witness of his immoral private life, and his bad
influence over his wife.
' The pope, being liimself an ally of the prince of Orange, as the emperor's
general against Louis XIV., was extremely unwilUng to send the legate, as he
was apprehensive of showing symptoms of friendship to any sovereign not
banded in the league against France, which was unaccountably called "The
Protestant League," although Spain, Austria, andthe pope were engaged in it.

142 MARY II.
The incarcerated prelates of the church of England were
triumphantly acquitted by a jury at Westminster-haU, and
subsequently released. King James, by his secession to the
church of Rome, had deprived himself of the active loyalty
of the reformed church, and had given the best and most
high principled of his subjects no other alternative than that
of standing mournfuUy neuter to witness the completion of
his ruin, although nothing could induce them, either from
motives of revenge or interest, to hasten it. That ruin now
came on with fearful velocity, accelerated by his own trusted
and beloved chUdren. There was little need for either the
prince or princess of Orange, or the princess Anne, to have
disgraced themselves by the course they took; the natural
tide of events must have led to the results which occurred.
The people had looked anxiously towards her whom they
long considered as the heiress of their throne, — a resem
blance was even fancied between her person and that of
queen EUzabeth ; and this popular notion perhaps prompted
the reply of Edmund WaUer to James II,, when the king
gave the veteran poet and statesman an audience in his
private cabinet, " How do you Uke that portrait of my
eldest daughter?" asked the father, drawing Waller's atten
tion to a fine whole-length of Mary, just opposite to his
chair. " My eyes are dim," replied WaUer ; " but if that
is the princess of Orange, she bears some resemblance to the
greatest woman the world ever saw." The king asked who
he meant, and testified some surprise when WaUer answered
" queen EUzabeth." — " She had great ministers," drily ob
served the king. " And when did your majesty ever know
a fool choose wise ones?" rejoined Waller, impressively.
The great-grandson of Mary queen of Scots might have
been excused for not joining very cordiaUy in the praises of
queen EUzabeth. This anecdote, for some reason, although
it contains proof of his parental feelings for his daughter,
has been related to his injury and to her advantage. The
picture referred to in the anecdote was that which now
presents itself on the left hand at entering the royal suite
at Hampton-Court. The lightness of the complexion and

MARY II. 143
hair, and the sharpness of the lower part of the face, give a
shade of famUy likeness to queen EUzabeth; but there is
another portrait, a half-length, over the door of the royal
closet, which is a better resemblance of the princess herself.
Both are by the Dutch artist, Wissing. He was, although
a Dutchman, not employed by WiUiam of Orange, but by
James II, The father, who had not seen his beloved Mary
for some years, desired to have a resemblance of her after
he was king. For this purpose he sent his painter, Wissing,
to Holland, and gave him a commission to paint the portraits
of his daughter and his son-in-law, and bring them back to
England with him, Wissing did so, but died early in 1687;'
therefore these Hampton-Court portraits must be dated be
tween king James's accession and the death of the artist.
The two portraits of Mary, which are nearly duplicates in
design, were painted on this occasion ; one being left in Hol
land, and the other found at Hampton-Court when the un-
dutiful original took possession of aU her father's personal
property. There is Ukewise an equestrian portrait of Wil
Uam III., which must have deceived greatly aU his young
romantic partisans in England, who named the Orange pair,
from Wissing's portraits, " Ormanzor and Phenixiana."
WUUam appears in the proportions of a hero of seven feet in
height, instead of a smaU man two feet shorter. James II.
was amused at this flattery of his Dutch painter, but it had
its effect in England.
It is the half-length portrait of Mary, by Wissing, which is
engraved for the frontispiece of this volume. The princess
is seated in her garden; she is dressed in a gown of the
fiiU blue colour, which was then called garter-blue. She
holds back her veU with one hand. She has no ornament
on her head, but wears a throat-necklace of large pearls.
In the reign of James IL, public opinion spoke at con
vivial meetings in quaint rhymes, caUed toasts, which were
sung at the time when healths were drunk. " I know not
whether you have heard a health [toast] that goes about,
which is new to me just now, so I send it you." '
' Bryant's Dictionary of Painters and Engravers. Wissing had been the
assistant of sir Peter Lely, and was historical-painter to James II.
' Letter written to Rachel Russell, afterwards duchess of Devonshire, from

144 MAEY IL
Toast.
" The king God blcsa.
And each princess ;
Tiie church no lx»«.
Which we pr(;fe»i»
As did queen Bess."
The princess Anne arrived from Tunbridgc September 18,
and met her husband at Windsor-castle. The very same
day, king James travelled to London in company with the
prince and princess. The former being invited to accompany
the king to Chatham, sur];>rise was excited that Anne tarried
not at Windsor, as she usually dJrl, to bear the queen com
pany, who was left alone. It was said that she had, on her
arrival, met with a cold reception from the queen, who had
heard that she held too close a correspondence with the court
at the Hague,'
A few days after, her uncle, lord Clarendon, attended her
levee, and found her in her bedchamber, witb only one of
her dressers, completing her toilet, Tlie reports of the pro
jected invasion from Holland were agitating all London.
Anxious thoughts regarding the welfare of his royal master
weighed heavily on the loyal heart of Clarendon, and he
earnestly wished to awaken a responding Interest in the
heart of Anne. His diary preserves the following dialogue
between himself and his niece. " She asked me, ' Why I did
not come to her as often as I used to do '(' I answered, that
" Her royal highness had not been long in town ; but that,
wherever I was, I should be ready to wait upon her, if she
had any commands for me.' Sbe tlion told me 'that she
had found the king much aj^tated about the preparation!
which were making in Holland,' and asked me ' what I had
heard?' I said, 'I was out of all manner of business, and,
truly, that I heard nothing but common rumours,' '" The
princess then expressed her detestation of lord and lady
Sunderland ; upon which her uncle observed, " that he wa«
much surprised to find her royal highness in that mind
towards lady Sunderland, in whom all the world thought she
took the kindest concern; and," added he, "may I presume
the family pap<;r» of his grace the duke of Devonshire, copied, by bi« kind
permission, July 1846,
' Laniburty, voL i. p. 298. ' Clarendon Diaty, vol. il. p. 189.

MARY IL 145
to ask what is the matter between ye?" — "I think her the
worst woman in the world," responded the princess Anne.
A pause ensued, which was broken by lord Clarendon saying,
" I wish your royal highness had not heretofore thought so
well of her, but I am certain that you had a just caution
given you of her." Thus the reviUngs in which the princess
ever indulged when the name of lady Sunderland occurred
to her in writing or conversation, had been preceded by a
close intimacy, against which her uncle had vainly warned
her. The princess did not like the last reminiscence, and
looked at her watch, a huge appendage, almost as large as a
time-piece, such as was then carried by ladies, on which
her uncle withdrew. "What can this mean?" he wrote, in
comment on this dialogue, after recording it in his diary;
"she seems to have a mind to say something, and yet is
upon a reserve." '
The next day, lord Clarendon attended at WhitehaU-
palace the levee of her father, who expressed his certainty
of the invasion by his son-in-law. " In the afternoon," he
continues, " I waited again on the princess Anne.' I told
her what had passed between the king and me. She answer
ed, very drily, 'I know nothing but what the prince, my
husband, teUs me he hears from the kiug.' " In the course
of a few days, her uncle made a positive attempt on her feel
ings as a daughter, thinking that, as she was so infinitely
beloved by James IL, she might successfully warn him of
his danger, when the foUowing dialogue took place between
the uncle and the niece.^ She mentioned "that the king
had received an express, which declared that all the Dutch
troops were embarked, and that the prince of Orange was to
embark on Monday next, and that lord Shrewsbury, lord
WUtshire, and Henry Sidney were with them;" she added,
"that the king, her father, seemed much disturbed, and very
melancholy." — "I took the liberty to say," proceeds lord
Clarendon, that "it was pity nobody would take this oppor
tunity of speaking honestly to the king ; and that I humbly
thought it would be very proper for her royal highness to say
• Clarendon Diary, vol. U. p. 189. ' Ibid. ' Ibid., p. 191,
VOL. VII. L

146 MARY n.
something to him, and beg him to confer with some of his
old friends, who had always served him faithfully." — "I
never speak to the king on business," was the answer of the
princess Anne to this appeal. Her uncle repUed, that " Her
father could not but take it weU to see her royal highness
concerned for him ; that it might produce some good effect,
and no iU could possibly come of it. But," continues he,
" the more I pressed her, the more reserved she became,"
At last she said that "she must dress herself, for it was
almost prayer time.'" The daughter then went forth to
pray, and Clarendon, grieved by the uselessness of his
attempt to awaken her filial feeUngs, retired with a heavy
heart. Whilst such were the proceedings of the younger sister,
the elder, in HoUand, was acting a pari;, the turpitude of
which, it might be supposed, no fanatical self-deception could
veU from her own conscience. Her deepest guUt was the
falsehood by which she sought to deceive her father relative
to the preparations being made in HoUand for the invasion
of England, which she repeatedly assured him were merely
for the usual service of the emperor. This untiuth Mary
repeated constantly to her unfortunate father, who, until
the middle of September, remained utterly trustful in his
daughter's integrity ; insomuch, that about this time he sent
his faithful servant the late envoy, BevQ Skelton, to the
Tower for too warmly insisting "that the princess of Orange's
letters declaring that the armament at HoUand was but for
the service of the emperor of Germany, were utter deceit,
as he had just been recaUed from HoUand, and knew it was
to invade England," A very few days, however, convinced
the unhappy father of the truth, as may be discovered by his
letter to her, dated September 21st.'
"James IL to his dattghtee Maet,
" 'Whitehall, Sept, 21, 1688.
"AU the discourse here is about the great preparations making in HoUand,
and what the great fleet, which is coming out to sea from thence, is to do, A
little tim£ will show."'

' Ckrendon Diai-y, vol. u. p. 191. « Lamberty. vol. i, p. 298.
' Additional MS., 4163, foUo 1 ; British Museum,

MAEY IL 147
"James II. to his daughtee Maet.
"¦Whitehall, Sept. 25, 1688.
" I see by yours of the 20th inst., that the prince of Orange was gone to the
Hague ; and from thence, that he was arrived. What his business is there at
this time, I do reaUy beUeve you are not acquainted with, nor with the resolu
tion he has taken, which alarms aU people here very much."'
The calmness of the succeeding letter, written under the
utter conviction that his son-in-law was about to invade him,
in profound peace, is very remarkable. For, whatsoever
injury James II. might meditate against the church of
England, Mary and her husband had received nothing but
good from him: —
"James II. to his dattghtee Maet.'
" WhitehaU, Sept. 28, 1688.
" This evening I had yours of the 4th, from Dieren, by which I find you
were then to go to the Hague, being sent for by the prince. I suppose it is
to inform you of bis design of coming to England, which he has been so long
a contriving. I hope it will heme been as great a surprise to you' as it was
to me, when I first heard it, being sure it is not in your nature to approve of
so unjust an undertaking. I have been aU this day so busy, to endeavour to he
in some condition to defend myself from so unjust and unexpected an attempt,
that I am almost tired, and so I shall say no more but that I shall always
have as much kindness for you as you wiU give me leave to have."
These letters were foUowed by others, which, in thefr pa
rental simpUcity, must have been heart-rending to any one
not exactly provided with a heart of marble. The evident
faUure of physical strength expressed by the old father, the
worn-out hero of many a hard battle, whUe making ready
to repel the hostUity of his children, ought to have been
agonizing to the daughter.
"James II. to his dattghtee Maet.
""WhitehaU, Oct. 2, 1688.
"I was this morning abroad to take the air, and to see some batteries I have
made below Woolwich for the defence of the river. And since I came back, I
have been so very busy to prepare things for the imiasion intended, that I
could not write tiU now, that 'tis near midnight, so that you might not wonder
if my letter be short. For news, you wUl have it from others, for reaUy I am
very weary ; so shaU end, which I do, with assuring you of my continuing as
land to you as you can desire."*
The tone of calm sorrow is remarkable in the last and most
tender of these epistles. It wUl be seen, by the date, that
' Adpional MS., 4163, foUo 1; British Museran. ^ Ibid.
" Here the king aUudes to Mary's often repeated asseverations to him regard
ing this force. * Ad^tional MS., 4163, folio 1, Bu-ch; British Museum.
L 2

148 MAEY II.
the correspondence between the father and daughter was
constant, even down to a few days of the landing of his
enemy. Surely this letter, gentle and reasonable as it is,
stiU searching for excuses, and hoping against hope that
he had the sympathy of his child, persuading himself, and
quite wilUng to persuade her, that she did not participate
in aught against him, is replete with touching pathos. The
old Greek tragedians often imagined such situations; they
could grandly paint the feeUngs natural to a mind torn
between the clashing interests of fiUal and conjugal love,
just as the old monarch supposes here was the case with
his Mary ; but neither poet nor moralist has described con
duct Uke that of the royal heroine of the revolution of 1688.
"King James to his dattghtee Maet.
""Whitehall, Oct. 9, 1688.
" I had no letter from you by the last post, which you see does not hinder
me from vpriting to you now, not knowing, certainly, what may have hindered
you from doing it. I easUy believe you may be embarrassed how to write to
me, now that the unjust design of the prince of Orange's invading me is so
pubUc. And though I know you are a good wife, and ought to be so, yet for
the same reason I must beUeve yon wUl be stUl as good a daughter to a father
that has always loved you so tenderly, and that has never done the least thing
to make you doubt it. I shall say no more, and beUeve you very uneasy aU
this time, for the concern you must have for a husband and a father. You
shaU stiU find me kind to you, if yon desire it."'
Perhaps this was the last letter that passed at this crisis
from the father to the daughter. It does honour to the
king, for here we see the patient and much-enduring love
of the parent. It is a letter, the retrospection of which must
have cut deep into the conscience, if " Mary the daughter "
ever reviewed the past in the lone sUent watches of the
night. WhUe James II. was thus writing to the elder princess,
his faithful brother-in-law. Clarendon, was labouring to awake
some filial fears in the obtuse mind of his niece, Anne. It
was more than a fortnight before he could obtain another
conference with her, for she avoided all his attempts at pri
vate conversation. He visited her, however, in the evening
of October 10, when she made an observation regarding her
father's evident anguish of mind. Lord Clarendon told her
' Additional MS., 4163, foUo 1, Birch; British Museum,

MAEY II. 149
"that it was her duty to speak freely to the king, which
would be a comfort to him." To this the princess made no
reply. Clarendon soon after attended the royal levee at
WhitehaU. There king James told him the news, that the
prince of Orange had embarked "with all the Dutch troops,
and would sail with the first favourable wind. " I have no
thing," added the unfortunate father, " by this day's post
from my daughter, the princess of Orange, and it is the first
time I have missed hearing from her for a long time.'" He
never heard from her again. Lord Clarendon almost forced
an interview "with his niece Anne. "I told her," he writes
in his journal, " most of what the king had said. I earnest
ly pressed her to speak to him. I entreated her to be the
means of prevaUing on him to hear some of his faithful old
friends ; but," he bitterly adds, " she would do nothing !"
Just at this time were reports that the Dutch expedition
was scattered and injured by heavy October gales. James
II. ordered the examination to take place before his privy
councU relative to the bfrth of the prince of Wales. Lord
Clarendon, as the uncle of the princesses whose claims to the
British throne were apparently superseded by the bfrth of
thefr brother, was requested to be present at the depositions
taken by the numerous "witnesses on oath.' He had never
for a moment entertained a doubt on the subject, and he
seems to think that the most unbeUeving must henceforth
rest convinced that the report of a spurious chUd was a
calumny. The princess, his niece, was at her levee when,
on the morning of the 23rd of October, her maternal uncle
honestly came to teU her his opinion of the identity of her
brother, — simple man ! hoping to satisfy and reUeve her
mind. He had not had the benefit of perusing her pri
vate sentiments on the subject as oiu" readers have done;
he knew not that a letter written by her hand then existed,
declaring " that she thought it a comfort that aU people in
Englaq^d asserted that the infant prince, her brother, was
an impostor." The princess was dressing for prayers, aU
' Clarendon Diary, vol. ii. p. 194.
* See the Life of Mary Beatrice of JloJtina.

150 MAEY II.
her women were about her, and they and thefr mistress
were loud in mfrth and jest when lord Clarendon added
himself to the group at the toUette. The princess at once
plunged boldly and pubUcly into the discussion, which
she knew was on her uncle's mind. " Fine discourse," she
exclaimed,' "you heard at council yesterday;" and then
ste made herself very merry with the whole affafr, laughing
loud and long; and as her dressing proceeded, her women
put in thefr jests. Her uncle was scandalized and disgusted
by the scene. " I was," he says, " amazed at her behaviour,
but I thought it unfit to say any thing then. I whispered
to her royal highness, to request that she would give me
leave to speak "with her in private. ' It grows late,' rephed
the princess, 'and I must hasten to prayers; but you can
come at any time, except this afternoon.' So I went home.
In the evening my brother La"wrence was "with me. I told
him all concerning the princess Anne. I begged him to go
and talk to her. 'It wiU signify vjothing"' emphatically
repUed the other uncle of the princess.
The "wish of lord Clarendon, in seeking these interriews
¦with his niece, was to awaken her fiUal affection to a sense
of her father's danger ; and if he could effect this, he meant
to induce her to become the mediatrix between his majesty
and his loyal people for the security of the church of Eng
land, obtaining at the same time a guarantee that her infant
brother should be brought up in that faith. Clarendon
dreaded as much danger to that beloved church fi-om the
dissenting prince who aspired to be its head, as from the
Roman-cathoUc head then in authority. James was injur
ing the church by storm; WiUiam, whom he weU knew,
would proceed by sap : one wounded, the other would pa
ralyse. In the afternoon, lord Clarendon paid another risit
to the princess, his niece. She made many excuses to
avoid a conference with him. " I fancy," he remarks, in
his journal, "that she has no mind to talk to me." Anne
certainly anticipated the reproof her uncle was resolved to
administer for her odious conduct at his former "visit. Lord
' Clarendon Diary, vol. ii. p. 196.

MAEY II. 151
Clarendon asked her, " If she had received any letters from
the princess of Orange?" — "No," said the princess, "I have
not had any for a long while ;" and added, " that her sister
never wrote to her of any of these matters." How falsely
she spoke, her uncle could not teU so weU as the readers of
her prerious letters.
Lord Clarendon visited the princess two days later. She
was dressing, but as lady ChurchiU was present, he resolved
to delay the admonition he was waiting for a suitable oppor
tunity to administer. Two days after, he found her at home.
" She came," he says, " out of her closet very quickly, and
told me that she was sorry she had disappointed me so often
when I desfred to speak to her, and she now wished to know
what I had to say." Then the reproof which Anne had so
weU deserved was administered. "I told her," continues
her uncle, " that I was extremely surprised and shocked the
other day, to find her royal highness speak so slightingly re
garding her famUy affairs, and above aU, to suffer her women
to break thefr unseemly jests regarding the bfrth of her
brother." The princess replied, " Sure ! you cannot but hear
the common rumours concerning him ?" — " I do hear very
strange rumours, indeed," said her uncle, "as every one
must do who Uves pubUcly in the world; but there is no
colour for these." — "I wUl not say that I beUeve them,"
replied the princess; "but I needs must say, that the
queen's behaviour was very odd," — and here Anne, al
though a young woman, and speaking to a man, used ex
pressions of that "vulgar coarseness, of which no examples
are to be found Uke hers, either from the Ups or pen of
a British princess, even in the ages of semi-barbarism.'
"Possibly," repUed Clarendon, "the queen did not know
the reports." — "I am sure," answered the princess Anne,
"the king [James IL] knew of them; for, as he has been
sitting by me in my own chamber, he would speak of the
idle stories that were given out of the queen not being
Ukely to have a chUd, laughing at them ; therefore I can-
not but wonder that there was no more care taken to satisfy
> Diary of Henry earl of Clarendon.

152 MAEY II.
the world." This speech proves that James II. spent his
time occasionaUy sitting by his daughter's side, and con
versing famiUarly with her. Clarendon asked, " If her royal
highness had, upon those occasions, said any thing to the
king her father?" The princess Anne owned " that she had
not."— "Then," said her uncle, "your father might very
well thiuk that you minded the reports no more than he did,
since you said nothing to him, even when he gave you op
portunities ; when, in my humble opinion, if you had felt
the least dissatisfaction, you ought to have discovered it
for the public good, as weU as for your own sake, and that
of the princess of Orange." — " If I had said any thing to
the king," repUed the princess Anne, " he might have been
angry, and then God knows what might have happen
ed." — "If you had no mind to have spoken to the king
yourself," observed her uncle, " you have friends, who would
have managed to serve you "without prejudice to you. And
remember," continued the stem royalist, "this is the first
time you have said any thing to me, although I have given
you occasion to open your mind, by urging your speaking to
the king your father since these alarms of invasion." He
concluded by begging the princess " to consider the miseries
which might be entaUed upon these kingdoms, even in case
that God might bless the king her father "with more sons.
And he requested her to do something which might publicly
prove her satisfaction that her brother was no spurious
child." To aU this, she made no answer. It was not in
deed a very palatable suggestion to the princess Anne, which
bade her look forward to a succession of brothers, consider
ing the infinity of pains she had taken to invaUdate the birth
of the only one in existence.
The next day, the king ordered his whole pri"vy council to
wait upon his daughter, the princess Anne, with copies of
the depositions concerning the bfrth of the prince of Wales.
In the evening they brought them to her in state. Upon
recei-ving the depositions from the lords of the privy council,
the princess replied, " My lords, this was not necessary ; for
I have so much duty for the king, that his word is more to

MAEY II. 153
me than aU these depositions.'" Such were the outward
expressions of the lips of the princess Anne, which were in
utter contradiction to her private words and writings. She
need not have soiled her mind and conscience with dupUcity,
and dark and dirty intrigues. England woiUd have denied
the succession to an hefr bred a Roman-catholic, even if his
sisters had been truthful women, likewise grateful and dutiful
daughters. Lord Clarendon was in the ante-room, and heard
the fafr-seeming reply of his niece, and when the lords of
council went out, he entered her presence. " The pruicess,"
he said, " was pleased to tell me the answer she gave to the
council. I hope," returned Clarendon, " that there now re
mains no suspicion with your royal highness." She made
no answer.'
' Diary and Correspondence of Henry lord Clarendon, edited by S. W.
Smger, esq., vol. u. pp. 198, 199, ' 2 i^^g^^ p_ 120,

MARY IL
QUEEN-EEGNANT OF GREAT BEITAIN AND lEELAND.

CHAPTER IV.
Proceedings of the princess of Orange at the Hague— 'Her conversation with
Burnet — Her reflections on the memory of Mary queen of Scots — Letter of
her step-mother — Embarkation of her husband to invade England — Forbids
prayers for her father — Landing of the prince of Orange — Last interview of
the princess Anne and her father, (James II.) — Conversation with her uncle
Clarendon — Her father leaves London for the army — Her husband and lord
ChurchiU forsake him — Her connivance— Her escape from "WhitehaU — Joins
her father's enemies — Arrival at Nottingham — Joins an association against
her father — Disgusts lord Chesterfield — Conduct of her household at the
Cockpit— Her triumphant entry into Oxford — Her forces headed by bishop
Compton — Stays from London tUl her father leaves it — Goes to the play in
orange ribbons — Danger of her father that night — Stern reproofs of her
uncle Clarendon — Controversy of the succession — Rights of the daughters of
James II. — Uneasiness of the princess Anne — Convention declares Mary sole
sovereign-regnant — Eage of her husband — Sbe yields precedence to Wiffiam
— Is associated with him in regaUty — Princess Anne yields her place to him
— ^Mary leaves HoUand.
Our narrative now leads us back for a few weeks, to "witness
the proceedings of the elder daughter of James II. at her
court of the Hague, which was in an equal ferment of agi
tated expectation with that of England. Here the princess
was occupied in Ustening, "with apparent simplicity, to the
polemic and political explanations of Dr. Burnet in HoUand,
who had undertaken, by special commission, to render her
subservient to the principles of the coming revolution. Those
who have seen the correspondence of the daughters of James
II. may deem that the doctor might have spared any su-
perfiuous cfrcumlocution in the case; but on comparison
of his words and those letters, it wiU be found that it pleased
the princess of Orange to assume an appearance of great
ignorance regarding the proceedings in England, "She
knew but Uttle of our affafrs," says Burnet, "tiU I was

MAEY II. 155
admitted to wait upon her, and / began to lay before her
the state of our court, and the intrigues in it ever since
the Restoration, which she received with great satisfaction,
and true judgment and good sense in all the reflections
she made."
Another subject of discussion with the princess of Orange
and Burnet, was the reported imposition regarding the birth
of her unhappy brother and unconscious rival, which slan
der each assumed as a truth; but the princess, stifling the
memory of her sister's disgusting letters and her own re
pUes, appeared to hear it "with astonishment for the first
time. In the course of these singular conversations, Burnet
observes, "the princess asked me 'what had sharpened the
king, her father, so much against M. Jurieu?"" The real
reason has been detailed in the pre"vious chapter. It was
for writing a "violent attack on her father, accusing him of
having cut the throat of the earl of Essex in the Tower.
Mary knew this weU ; for it had been the cause of indignant
discussion and the recall of Chudleigh, the British envoy,
who would not endure to witness the presentation of such
a Ubel by Jurieu to the prince of Orange in full levee.'
Burnet was not aware that the princess meant to discuss
Jurieu's foiU attack on her father. Perhaps the fact was
only recorded in the ambassador's reports; for Burnet re
plied, wide of the mark, "that Jurieu had written with
great indecency of Mary queen of Scots, which cast re
flections on th£m that were descended from her, and was
not very decent, in one employed by the prince and her
self." To this the princess answered, by giving her own
especial recipe for historical biography, as follows: "That
Jurieu was to support the cause he defended, and to expose
those that persecuted it in the best way^ he could;" and,
"if what he said of Mary queen of Scots was true, he was
not to be blamed;" and she added, "that if princesses wUl
do iU ^ings, they must expect that the world "wiU take that
revenge on thefr memories that it cannot on their persons."^
' Burnet's History of his Own Times.
« Amhassades of D'Avaux, and Skelton's Despatches.
• Mary means "the worst way he could." * Burnet's Own Thnes.

156 MAEY IL
A more rational method of judging than that induced by the
furious and one-sided advocacy this princess approved, and
which she was pleased to see stain the memory of her hap.
less ancestress, (on whose person party vengeance had been
"wreaked to the uttermost,) is by the test of facts, iUusteated
by autograph letters. By the spirit of a genuine correspond
ence may the characteristics of historical personages best he
Ulustiated, and the truth, whether "iU things" are done,
best ascertained. The united aid of facts and letters "wiU
throw Ught even on the deeply-veUed character of Mary II.
of England.
About the time this conversation took place between this
highly-praised princess and her panegyrist Burnet, she re
ceived the following letter from her step-mother, — a princess
who has had her fuU share of this world's reviUngs : —
"Queen Maet Beateioe to Maet Peincess oe Oeange."
"Sept. 28, 1688.
" I am much troubled what to say, at a. time when nothing is talked of bnt
the prince of Orange coming over with an army ; this has been said for a long
time, and believed by a great many, but I do protest to you that I never did
beUeve tUl now, very lately, that I have no possibUity left of doubting it. The
second part of the news I wUl never believe, which is, that you are to come over
vrith iiim, for I know you to be too good. I do not beUeve you could have such
a thought against the worst of fathers, much less to perform it against the best,
who has always been so kind to you, and I do believe, has loved you better than
any of his chUdren."
Mary had again "written to her father, only a few days before
the receipt of the above letter, that the journey her husband
had taken to Minden, whence he returned September 20,
1688, was for the sole purpose of getting the German princes
in congress there to march against France, he being stiU the
generaUssimo of the war of Spain and the emperor agamst
Louis XIV. James II. showed his daughter's letter to Ba-
riUon, the French ambassador, then at his court, as an answer
to his warnings regarding the Dutch armament.' Meantime,
' Historical Letters, edited by sir H. EUis ; first Series, vol. iu.
'' Mazure, from AlbeviUe's Despatehes. BariUon's Despatehes to Louis XIV.,
166 ; 1688. Fox MSS. The information is preserved by the statesman C. J.
Fox, who, when he came to open the documentary history of the Revolution,
threw down his pen, and left the history a fragment. The same curious com-
cidence occurs with sir James Mackintosh, and the documentary conclusion by
WaUace is in direct contradiction to the commencement. Every historian who
attempts to write from documents of this era according to the whig bias, and
gives true and direct references, seems in the same predicament.

MARY II. 157
BevU Skelton, the cavalier ambassador lately at the Hague,
from his prison in the Tower still perseveringly warned his
royal master of the real machinations of Mary and her spouse.
Louis XIV. offered to intercept the fleet preparing for the
invasion of England, but nothing could induce the father to
believe these warnings in preference to the letters of his
chUd, who moreover complained most piteously of the iU-
conduct of Bevil Skelton, as a person whoUy in the interest
of France, against her and her husband. James was vexed
with the peace of Europe being broken, and was more con
cerned with his endeavours to prevent France and Spain
from going to war, than apprehensive of invasion from his
" son of Orange " in profound peace ; and again firmly be
Ueving in Mary's solemn affirmations that her husband was
only preparing to repel the hourly expected attack of France,
he actually offered WiUiam, as late as October 3, (n. s.) forces
for his aid, if that power should break the peace, both by sea
and land !' James was sure that the outcries of Bevil Skel
ton by way of warning, were the mere effects of French
diplomacy, to force him to war against his son-in-law.
WhUe every indication promised fuU success to the revo
lution preparing for Great Britain, the pecuUar notions of
the prince of Orange relative to queens-regnant, threatened
some disagreement between the two principal persons con
cerned in the undertaking. In this dilemma. Dr. Burnet
kindly tendered his diplomatic aid, and proceeded to probe
the opinions of the princess regarding the manner in which
she meant to conduct herself towards a regal yoke-fellow.
" The princess," says the instructing divine, " was so new to
aU matters of this kind, that she did not, at first, seem to
understand my meaning, but fancied that whatever accrued
to her would go to the prince of Orange in right of mar
riage. I told her it was not so, and explained Henry VII.'s
title to her, and what had passed when queen Mary married
PhUip of Spain. I told her that a titular kingship was no
acceptable thing for a man, especiaUy if it was to depend on
. another's Ufe." The princess asked Burnet to propose a re
medy. " I told her the remedy," he resumes, " if she could
• AlbevUle's Despatches, deciphered by Mazure, vol, iu.

158 MARY n.
bring her mind to it. It was, to be contented to be his wife,
and engage herself to him to give him the real authority, as
soon as it came into her hands. The princess bade me
' bring the prince to her, and I should hear what she had to
say upon it.' The prince of Orange was that day huntiag.
On the morrow, I acquainted him "with aU that passed, and
carried him to her, where she, in a very frank manner, told
him 'that she did not know that the laws of England were
so contrary to the laws of God as I had informed her.' She
said, 'that she did not think the husband ever was to be
obedient to the wife,' and she promised him ' that he should
always bear the rule.' " According to other authorities Mary
•added " that, as she should gladly obey him, she hoped he
would also fulfil his part of the marriage contract by loving
her.'" The prince of Orange said not one word in approba
tion of her conduct, but told Burnet, if that could be deemed
commendation, " that he had been nine years married to the
princess, and never had the confidence to press this matter
which had been brought about so soon." Readers famihar
with the etiquette of courts, wUl naturaUy feel surprised that
the princess of Orange should have been reduced to the
necessity of requesting the assistance of Dr. Burnet to obtain
for her an interview "with her august consort, for the purpose
of giving her an opportunity of speaking her mind to him on
this deUcate point. On what terms of conjugal companion
ship could thefr royal highnesses have been at this momentous
period may reasonably be inqufred.
In curious illustration of these aUeged passages touching
the conjugal confidences of the Orange pafr, is the fact, that
at the very time, and for the former two years, a correspond
ence was carried on between the princess of Orange and her
sister Anne on the subject of the bitter insults and mortifi
cations the princess of Orange received daUy from her maid,
Elizabeth ViUiers. The preference given by the prince of
Orange to his wife's attendant would have been borne in the
' Palin's History of the Church of England, from 1688 to 1717 : Rivington,
1851. This learned gentleman's research is Ukewise home out by a curious
contemporary work. Secret History of the Stuart% formerly in possession of hia
royal highness the late duke of Sussex.

MARY n. 159
uncomplaining spirit with which Mary endured aU the griev
ances of her lot, but she could not abide that the shameless
woman should boast of that preference,' and make it public
matter for the world to jeer at, or — worse far, to pity. Mary
relieved her overburdened heart by relating detaUs of these
mortifications to her sister. The letters have not yet come
to Ught; perhaps they have been destroyed, but they are
often mentioned in the despatches of ambassadors. The
wrongs described therein raised the indignation of the prin
cess Anne to a height which led her to the imprudent act of
rating Bentinck, when in England as envoy, for the ill-con
duct of his sister-in-law, (very probably she approved as
httle of the conduct of his wife,) and told him, sharply, " to
check the insolence of Elizabeth ViUiers to the princess of
Orange." The remonstrance of the princess Anne was duly
reported to her brother-in-law of Orange, and the remem
brance laid up for a future day, the effects of which Anne
felt after WiUiam was on the British throne.
HoUand was then full of British exUes, ready to join the
invading expedition of the prince of Orange. Some had fled
from the bitter persecution which the ministers of Charles II.
had estabUshed in Scotland ; some from the bursting of the
various plots which had formed a chain of agitation in Eng
land since the wedlock of William and Mary. The queen,
her step-mother, continued to mention at times the reports
of invasion, e"vidently -without belie"ving that the actual fact
could take place from such near relatives in profound peace.
The last letter that James II. "wrote to the prince of Orange
is friendly, and is directed, as usual, " For my son, the prince
of Orange." The public reception of famUy correspondence
at length became a matter either of pain or confusion to the
mind of the princess of Orange. The last letters written to
her by her father she would not receive personaUy, as usual,
from the hands of his envoy, AlbevUle, but sent for them
privately: they were probably destroyed unread.
The French ambassador, D'Avaux, wrote to his court, that
the princess of Orange was seen every day, even on the very
> D'Avaux' Despatehes, quoted by Fox in his Appendix.

160 MARY IL
day of the embarkation, in public, with a gay, laughing coun-
tenance. This is not in unison with the statements of two
other eye-witnesses, Burnet and AlbevUle, nor, indeed, with
probability, which is better deserving credit than the evi
dence of either ; for, in case of failure, the risk was tremen
dous, " I waited on the princess of Orange," says Burnet,
" a few days before we left the Hague, She seemed to have
a great load on her spfrits, but to have no scruple as to the
lawfulness of the design, I said to her, that ' If we got safe
to England, I made no doubt of our success in other things;'
only I begged her pardon to teU her, ' that if at any time
any misunderstanding was to happen between the prince and
her, it would ruin aU.' The princess answered, ' I need fear
no such thing; for if any persons should attempt that, she
would treat them so as to discourage them from venturing it
again,' She was very solemn and serious, and prayed very
earnestly to God to bless and direct us." Dr, Burnet was
accompanying the prince as spiritual dfrector of the expedi
tion, which accounts for his emphatic plural "us" in his
narrative. "At last," he resumes, "the prince of Orange
went on board, and we aU saUed on the night of the 19th of
October, 1688, when dfrectly a great storm arose, and many
ships were, at the first alarm, believed to be lost. The prin
cess of Orange behaved herself suitably to what was expected
of her. She ordered prayers four times a-day, and assisted
at them with great devotion." Incredible as it may seem,
prayers were likewise put up in the popish chapels at the
Hague belonging to the Spanish and Imperial ambassadors,
for the success of the prince of Orange.' It was noticed,
that at prayers in the chamber of the princess of Orange, all
mention of the prince of Wales was omitted; Ukewise she
forbade the collects for her father,' yet his name was retained
in the Litany, perhaps accidentally. As the collects are "for
grace," and that " God might dispose and govern the heart"
of her father, the omission is scarcely consistent with the
piety for which Mary is celebrated.
' BarUlon's Despatches, Dalrymple's Appendix. Burnet's Own Times.
* AlbeviUe's Despatches.

MARY IL 161
The silence of documentary history as to the scene of the
actual parting between WUliam and Mary at the hour of his
Embarkation for England, is partly supplied by one of the
contemporary Dutch paintings commemorative of that event,
lately purchased for her majesty's collection at Hampton-
Court by the commissioners of the woods and forests. In the
first of these highly curious tableaux we behold an animated
scene of the preparations for the departure of the prince,
described with all the graphic matter-of-fact cfrcumstances
peculiar to the Dutch school of art, even to the cording and
handling of the Hberator's trunks and portmanteaus close to
his feet, while he stands surrounded by the wives of the bur
gomasters of the BriU and Helvoetsluys, who are affectionately
presenting him "with parting benedictions in the shape of part
ing cups. One fafr lady has actuaUy laid her hand on his
highness's arm, whUe with the other she offers him a flowing
goblet of scheidam, or some other equaUy tempting beverage.
Another low German charmer holds up a deep glass of Rhenish
nectar; others tender schnaps in more moderate-sized glasses.
One of the sympathetic ladies, perhaps of the princess's suite,
is weeping ostentatiously, "with a handkerchief large enough
for a banner. WiUiam, meantime, apparently insensible of
these characteristic marks of attention from his loyal country
women, bends an expressive glance of tender interest upon his
royal consort, English Mary, who has just turned about to
enter her state carriage, which is in waiting for her. Her
face is therefore concealed. The lofty proportions of her
.stately figure, which have been somewhat exaggerated by the
painter, sufliciently distinguish her from the swarm of short,
fat, Dutch Madonas by whom the hero of Nassau is sur
rounded. She wears a high cornette cap, long stiff waist
"with white satin bodice, scarlet petticoat, orange scarf, and
farthingale hoop. Her neck is bare, and decorated with a
string of large round pearls. The carriage is a high, narrow
chariot, painted of a dark green colour, with ornamental
statues at each comer. In form and design it greatly re
sembles the lord mayor's carriage, only much neater and
smaUer; the window curtains are of a bright rose colour.
VOL. VII. M

162 MAEY II.
The embarkation of horses and troops is actively proceeding.
WiUiam's state-barge has mounted the royal standard of
Great Britain, with the motto, " Prot. ReUgion and Liberty,"
and the stately first-rate vessel in which he is to pass the
seas, Ues in the offing similarly decorated : some of the other
vessels have orange flags. The people on the shore are
throwing up their hats, and drinking success to the expe
dition. It is, altogether, the representation of a very ani
mating scene, full of quaint costume and characteristic
details of the manners and customs of WUliam and Mary's
Dutch people.
" Mary wept bitterly when she parted from her husband,"
says AlbevUle. " She shut herself up afterwards, and would
not appear on her day of dining publicly at the Haguer
palace."' From the lofty turrets of that gothic palace the
tradition declares she watched the fleet depart from the BriU,
which was to invade her sfre.
Every one knows that the prince of Orange arrived safely
in Torbay on the eve of the anniversary of ' the Gunpowder-
plot,' "a remarkable and crowning providence," as one of
the writers of that age observes, " since both of these national
festivities can be conveniently celebrated by the same hoh-
day." This day was likewise the anniversary of the marriage
of William of Orange with Mary of England. The prince
noticed the coincidence with more vivacity than was usual to
him. He landed at the "village of Broxholme, near Torbay,
November 5. When he perceived that all around was quiet,
and no symptoms of opposition to his landing, he said to Dr.
Burnet, " Ought not I to believe in predestination ?" It was
then three o'clock in a November afternoon, but he mounted
his horse and went with Schomberg to reconnoitre, or as
Burnet expresses himself, " to discover the country right and
left.' He marched four miles into Devonshire, and lodged
' AlbeviUe's Despatclies. WiUiam sailed with a fleet of fifty-two ships of
war, many of them merchant ships borrowed by the States, for gi'eat had been
the havoc made by James II. in the Dutch navy. Notwithstanding the loss by
his victory at Solebay, the Dutch admirals hoisted their flags on seventy-gun
ships ; there were 400 transports, which carried at least about 15,000 men.
» MS. letter in French, written by Bui-net to one of his friends left in

MAEY II. 163
at a little to"wn called Newton ; but it was ten in the evening
before the whole force arrived there, and then every one was
wet and weary. The next day, about noon, the greatest
landholder in Devonshire, the ' chevaUer ' Courtney, sent his
son to his highness, to pray him to come and sleep at his
seat that night. The prince of Orange went there, and for
an impromptu entertainment, such as this was, it was impos
sible to be more splendidly regaled." The prince favoured
the Courtney baronet with his company four whole days,
during which time there was no stfr to join him. As so
many days elapsed before any of the population of the west
of England showed symptoms of co-operation "with the
prince of Orange, a murmur began to be heard among the
Dutch forces, that they had been betrayed to utter destiuc-
tion.' Nevertheless, most of the leading pubUc characters
in England had committed themselves, by written in"vitations
to the prince of Orange. The mine was ready to explode ;
but every one waited for somebody to toss the match.
¦When the fijst revolt of importance was made, the race
was which should the soonest foUow.'
Whilst the trusted friends of king James, persons on whom
he had bestowed many benefits, were waiting to see who
should be the first to betray him, a noble contrast was
offered by Dr, Ken, bishop of Bath and Wells, one of the
prelates whom he had incarcerated in the Tower for refusal
to comply "vrith his dictation in favour of the Roman-cathoUcs.
The letter subjoined is Uttle kno"wn, but it journalizes the
early progress of WiUiam in the west of England, and is
valuable in regard to the bishop's allusion to himself as chap
lain to the princess of Orange. Several persons who had
affected to become Roman-cathoUcs, as a base homage to
James II.'s religious principles, had deserted to the prince
of Orange; yet this western bishop stood firm to his loyalty,
although he was no sycophant of James, for unarmed but
"with his pastoral staff, he had boldly faced Kfrke in his
HoUand, probably for tho information of the princess, but ostensibly for his wife,
a Dutehwoman. The letter is very yeUow, and now crumbUng into fragments.
— Harleian MSS., 6798, art. 49.
DLiry of lord Clarendon. '' Lord Dartmouth,
M 2

164 MARY III
worst moments of drunken rage, and, despite of his fury,
comforted the unhappy victims in his diocese of the Mon
mouth rebelUon ; therefore every one expected to see bishop
Ken foUo"wing the camp of the Orange prince. But the
courage and humanity of this deeply revered prelate in 1685,
was, if tested by the laws of consistency, the true cause of
his loyalty in 1688, His letter is addressed to a kindred
mind, that of Sancroft, archbishop of Canterbury: —
" May it please your Grrace,
" Before I could return any answer to the letter with which your grace was
pleased to favour me, I received intelUgence that the Dutch were just coming
to Wells ; upon which I immediately left the town, and in obedience to his
majesty's general commands, took all my coaeh-borses with me, and as many of
my saddle-horses as I well could, and took shelter in a private village in Wilt
shire, intending, if his majesty had come into my county, to have waited on
him, and paid him my duty. But this morning we are told his majesty has
gone back to London, so that I only wait tUl the Dutch have passed my
diocese, and then resolve to return thither again, that being my proper station.
I would not have left the diocese in this juncture, but that the Dutch had
seized horses within ten miles of WeUs, before I went ; and your grace knows
that I, having been a servant to the princess [of Orange], and well acquainted
with many of the Duteh, I could not have stayed without giving some occasions
of suspicion, which I thought it most advisable to avoid, resolving, by God's
grace, to continue in a firm loyalty to the king, whom God direct and preserve
in this time of danger ; and I beseech your grace to lay my most humble duty
at his majesty's feet, and to acquaint him with the cause of my retiring. God
of his infinite mercy deUver us from the calamities which now threaten us, and
from the sins which have occasioned them. " My very good lord,
" Your grace's veiy aflectionate servant and bishop,
"November 24, 1688." "Thomas, Bath and Wbiis.'
The princess Anne had had an interview with her father on
the 3rd of November, o. s., when he communicated to her the
news that the Dutch fleet had been seen off Dover ; and he
lent her a copy of the prince of Orange's declaration, which
had been disseminated by him along the coast. The king
was on friendly terms "with his younger daughter, nor had
he then the slightest suspicion that the invasion was insti^
gated by her. " The same day I waited on the princess
Anne," says her uncle Clarendon, " and she lent me the
declaration of the prince of Orange, teUing me ' that the
king had lent it to her, and that she must restore it to him
on the morrow.' " This appears to have been the last inter.
' Life and Works of Bishop Ken, edited by J. T. Sherrard, B.D.

MAEY IL 165
course between the princess Anne and her father. The decla
ration blazoned abroad the slander that the prince of Wales
was an infant impostor, intruded on the nation by king
James, in order that England might faU under the rule of a
prince educated as a Roman-cathoUc. It may seem unac
countable wherefore the daughters of James II. adopted a
falsehood which aggravated the needful exclusion of their
father and his unconscious son into personal injury; but it
was the contrivance of thefr 0"wn private ambition, to guard
against the possibUity of the prince of Wales being taken from
his parents and educated by the country according to the
doctrines of the church of England, which would have excluded
his sisters effectuaUy from the succession they eagerly coveted.
Lord Clarendon made a last attempt to touch the feelings
of the princess Anne for her father, November 9th. " I told
her," he "writes, " that endeavours were using for the lords
temporal and spiritual to join in an address to the king; that
now it would be seasonable to say something to her father,
whereby he might see her concern for him.' The princess
repUed, ' that the king did not love that she should meddle
with any thing, and that the papists would let him do
nothing.' I told her 'that the Idng was her father; that
she knew the duty she owed him ; that she knew how very
tender and kind he had been to her ; and that he had never
troubled her about religion, as she had several times owned
to me. The princess replied, 'that was true;' but she grew
exceedingly uneasy at my discourse, and said ' that she must
dress herself,' and so I left her." '
The news arrived in London in a few hours, that lord
Combury, the eldest son of the earl of Clarendon, and of
course the first cousin of the princess, had deserted the
king's army, with three regiments. His father, bowed with
grief and shame, omitted his "visits to his niece, who de
manded, when she saw him, " why he had not come to the
Cockpit lately?" Lord Clarendon replied, " that he was so
much concerned for the viUainy his son had committed, that
he was ashamed of being seen anywhere." — " Oh," exclaimed
' Dmry of Henry earl of Clarendon.

166 MAEY Ii;
the princess, " people are so apprehensive of popery, that
you wiU find many more of the army wiU do the same."
Lord Combury's defection was perfectly weU known to her;
he was the first gentleman of her husband's bedchamber,
and by no means troubled with the old-fashioned cavalier
loyalty of his father. His wife, Uke"wise in the household of
the princess, made herself remarkable by dressing herself in
orange colour, ' a mode we shall find the princess adopted to
celebrate the faU of her father.
Thus, day by day, has the uncle of the princess Anne left
memorials of his conversations "vrith her regarding her unfor
tunate father at this momentous crisis. It was scarcely pos
sible, if justice did not require it, that her near relative.
Clarendon, could have represented her in the colours he has
done, or preferred the interests of the son of his brother-in-
law to the daughter of his sister. If lord Clarendon had
had a bias, it woiUd surely have been to represent the con
duct of his niece in as favourable a Ught as possible. It is
by no means a pleasant task to foUow the "windings of a
furtive mind to the goal of undeserved success, attained by
means of " That low cunning, which in fools supplies —
And amply too, the want of being wise,"
Yet be it remembered, that the worst traits which deform
the private character of Anne, are those portrayed in her
own letters, and in the journals of her mother's brother and
trusted fi'iends.
At that time the princess Anne was waiting anxiously news
fi-om her husband, who had, in fair-seeming friendship,
departed, in company with her father, to join his army near
Salisbury, "with the ostensible purpose of assisting in defend
ing him fi'om " his son, the prince of Orange." The prince
George was to be attended in his flight by lady ChurchiU's
husband, the ungrateful favourite of the king, and sir George
Hewett, a gentleman belonging to the household of the
princess. There was a dark plot of assassination contrived
against James by these two last agents, which seems as well
' Letter to lady Margaret Eussell, from the family papers of his grace the
duke of Devonshire, copied by permission, July 3, 1846,

MAEY II. 167
authenticated as any point of history, being confessed by
Hewett on his death-bed, amidst agonies of remorse and
horror. '
While the husband of the princess Anne was watching his
most feasible time for absconding, he dined and supped at
the table of the king, his father-in-law. Tidings were hourly
brought of some important defection or other from among
the king's officers, on which prince George of Denmark
usually turned to James II. with a grimace and voice of con
dolence, uttering one set phrase of surprise, " Est-il possible?"
At last, one Saturday night, November 24th, the prince of
Denmark and sir George Hewett went off to the hostile camp,
after supping -with king James, and greatly condemning aU
deserters. The king, who had been taken alarmingly ill in
the course of the last few hours, heard of the desertion of
his son-in-law with the exclamation, " How ! has ' est-il
possible' gone off too?"' Yet the example of his departure
¦was one of fearful import to the king.
James II. had not the slightest idea but that his heart
might repose on the fideUty of his daughter Anne. When it
is remembered how unswervingly affectionate and faithful
even the infant children of Charles I. had proved, not only
to their father but to each other, in similar times of trial
and distress, his confidence in his daughter cannot excite
surprise. A contemporary* has preserved the letter which
George of Denmark left for the king on his departure.
" Peince Geoege oe Denmaee; to James II.
" My just concern for that religion in which I have been so happily educated,
which my judgment truly convinced me to be the best, and for the support
thereof I am highly interested in my native coimtry ; and was not England
then become so by the most endearing tie ?"
The prince has made this note a tissue of blunders, con
founding the church of England "with the Lutheran religion,
although essentiaUy different. The biographer of Dr. Tillot
son claims the composition of this note as one of the good
deeds of that prelate ; it is certain that Dr. TUlotson was not
' The duke of Berwick's evidence, in his Memoirs, against his uncle the duke
of Marlborough, will be allowed to be decisive regarding the truth of this plot.
' Roger Coke, in his Detection, vol. in. pp. 122, 123. ' Ibid.

168 MAEY n.
in the camp of king James, but actively employed in Lon
don. The only comment James II. made, when he read the
note of George of Denmark, was, "I only mind him as con
nected with my dearest chUd ; otherwise the loss of a stout
trooper would have been greater.'" The envoy from Den-*
mark was summoned by king James to councU on the event
of the flight of prince George from the camp at Andover:
Several parties of horse were sent after the prince to capture
him, and his own countryman, who was no friend to the
revolution, requested "that orders to take him, alive or dead,
might be added to thefr instructions.'" It does not seem
that it was done.
Instant information was despatched to the princess at the
Cockpit, that prince George, lord ChurchiU, and sfr George
Hewett had successfully left the camp of her father. Anne
soon summoned her coadjutors, and prepared for her own
flight. She had written the week before to warn the prince
of Orange of her intentions, and had systematicaUy prepared
for her escape, by ha"ving had recently constructed a flight
of private stairs, which led from her closet do"wn into St.
James's-park.^ Lady ChurchiU had, in the afternoon, sought
a conference with Compton bishop of London, the tutor of
the princess ; he had "withdrawn, but left a letter advertising
where he was to be found, in case the princess wished to
leave her father. The bishop and the ex-lord chamberlain,
lord Dorset, sent word that they would wait in St. James's-
park "with a hackney-coach, at one o'clock in the morning of
Noveniber the 25th; and that if the princess could steal
unobserved out of the Cockpit, they would take charge of
her. ' Coke's Detection, voh iu. pp. 122, 3. Prmce George and ChurchUl had vainly
endeavoured to carry off with them a portion of the ai'my ; the common soldiers
and non-commissioned oflicers positively refused to forsake their king. General
Schomberg, who was second in command to the prince of Orange, and was as
much a man of honour and honesty as a mercenary soldier can be, received the
deserters from James II. with a sarcasm so cutting, that lord ChurchiU never
forgot it. " Sir," said Schomberg to hirn, " you are the first deserter of the
rank of a Ueutenant-general I ever saw." — Stuart Papers, edited by Macplierson.
* Lediard's Life of Marlborough, vol. i. p. 81,
' Lord Dartmouth's Notes.

JIAEY It 165
It is stated that the lord chamberlain Mulgrave had orders
to arrest the ladies ChurchUl and Fitzharding, but that the
princess Anne had entreated the queen to delay this measure
until the king's return, — an incident which marks the fact,
that Anne was on apparently friendly terms with her step
mother. Meantime, a manuscript letter among the family
papers of his grace the duke of Devonshire, afiirms that the
king had ordered the princess herself to be arrested ; if this
had been true, he could not have been surprised at her flight.
The facts, gathered from several contemporary sources, were
as follows. The princess Anne retired to her chamber on
Sunday evening at her usual hour ; her lady in waiting, Mrs.
Danvers, who was not in the plot, went to bed in the ante
chamber, according to custom. Lady Fitzharding, at that
time the principal lady of the bedchamber to the princess
Anne, being sister to the mistress of the prince of Orange,
was, of course, an active agent in the intrigue; this lady,
"with lady ChurchiU, came up the newly constructed back-
stafrs unknown to the rest of the household, and there wait
ed the hour of appointment perdue with lady ChurchiU's
maid. When one o'clock struck, the princess stole down
into the park "with these women, and close to the Cockpit
she met her auxiliary, lord Dorset. The night was dark ; '
it poured with torrents of rain, and St. James's-park was a
mass of black November mud. The adventurers had not
very far to walk to the hackney-coach, but the princess, who
had not equipped herself for pedestrian exigencies, soon lost
one of her fine high-heeled shoes inextricably in the mud.
She was, however, in the highest spfrits, and not disposed to
be daunted by trifles. She tried to hop forward "with one
shoe, but lord Dorset, fearing that she would take cold, puU-
ed off his embroidered leather glove, (which was of the long
gauntlet fashion,) and begged her royal highness to permit
him to draw it on her foot, as some defence against the wet.
This was done, amidst peals of laughter and many jokes
from the whole party, and, partly hopping and partly carried
by lord Dorset, the princess gained the spot where the
bishop waited for them in the hackney-coach, The whole

170 MAEY II.-
party then drove to the bishop of London's house by St.
Paul's, where they were refreshed, and went from thence, be
fore day-break, to lord Dorset's seat, Copt-hall, in Waltham
forest. The princess only made a stay there of a few hours,
and then, with the bishop, lord Dorset, and her two ladies,
set out for Nottingham, where they were received by the
earl of Northampton, the brother of the bishop of London.
That prelate assumed a military dress and a pafr of jack
boots, and raising a purple standard in the name of the laws
and liberties of England, in-vited the people to gather round
the Protestant heiress to the throne.'
The proceedings of the princess after her retreat, are re
lated by an eye-witness, lord Chesterfield. Of all the contem
poraries of James IL, he was the least likely to be preju
diced in his favour. He had been brought up from infancy
in companionship "with the prince of Orange, his mother,
lady Stanhope, being governess to the prince at the Hague.
Moreover, Chesterfield had not forgotten his angry resent
ment at the coquetries of his second wife with James II.,
when duke of York. The earl was, besides, a firm opposer
of popery, and an attached son of the reformed church.
Every early prejudice, every personal interest, every natural
•resentment, led him to favour the cause of the prince of
Orange. He was a deep and acute observer ; he had known
the princess Anne from her infancy, being chamberlain to
her aunt, queen Catharine. Anne's proceedings after her
flight from WhitehaU are here given in lord Chesterfield's
words :' " The princess Anne made her escape in disguise
from WhitehaU, and came to Nottingham, pretending ' that
her father the king did persecute and use her iU for her
religion, she being a protestant and he a papist.' As soon
as I heard of her coming with a small retinue to Notting
ham, I went thither with the lord Ferrers, and several
gentlemen my neighbours, to offer her my ser"vices. The
princess seemed- to be weU pleased ; she told me, ' that she
' Aubrey. Lediard's Life of Marlborough, vol. i. CoUey Cibber, and Lam
berty, who was secretary to Bentinck.
^ Memoir of PhUip, second eail of Chesterfield, from his autograph papers
found in tho Ubrary at Bath-house, pubUshed with his letters; pp. 48-50,

MAEY ir. 171
intended to go to Warwick, but she apprehended that lord
MulUnux, who was a papist, and then in arms, would attack
¦ her on her journey.' I assured her highness 'that I would
wait upon her tiU she was in a state of safety,' I left her,
and returned to Nottingham in two days at the head of a
hundred horse, with which she seemed to be much satisfied.
I met at Nottingham the earls of Devonshfre, Northampton,
and Scarsdale, lord Gray, the bishop of London, and many
others, who had brought in 600 horse, and raised the militia
of the country to attend her highness. The next day, her
highness told me, ' That there were many disputes and
quarrels among the young nobUity around her; therefore,
to prevent disorders in the marching of her troops about
precedence, she had appointed a council to meet that day,
and me to be of it.' I replied, that ' I was come on pur
pose to defend her person, in a time of tumult, with my
life, against any that should dare to attack her ; but that
as to her council, I did beg her pardon for desiring to be
excused from it, for I had the honour to be a privy coun-
ciUor to his majesty her father; therefore I would be of
no council for the ordering of troops which I did perceive
were intended to serve against him.' I found that her
highness and some of the noblemen round her were highly '
displeased "with my answer, which they called a ' tacit ' up
braiding them and the princess "with rebellion."
The princess Anne was, nevertheless, escorted by Chester
field from Nottingham to Leicester; but here he found a
project on foot, which completed his disgust of the proceed
ings of " the daughter." It was, in fact, no other than the
revival of the old 'Association,' which had, about a century
before, hunted Mary queen of Scots to a scaffold. If Eliza
beth, a kinswoman some degrees removed from Mary queen
of Scots, but who had never seen her, has met -with repre
hension from the lovers of moral justice for her encourage
ment of such a league, what can be thought of the heart
of a child, a favoured and beloved daughter, who had fled
from the very arms of her father to join it? "I waited
on her highness the princess Anne to Leicester," resumes

172 MAEY ir.
Chesterfield.' "Next morning, at court, in the drawing.
room, which was filled "with noblemen and gentlemen, the
bishop of London caUed me aloud by my name ; he said,
that the princess Anne desfred us to meet at four o'clock
the same afternoon at an inn in Leicester, which he named,
to do something- which was for her service.' " Chesterfield
expressed his displeasure at the manner in which he was
publicly called upon, -without any previous intimation of the
matter; "upon which, lord Devonshfre, who stood by, ob
served, 'that he thought lord Chesterfield had been pre
viously acquainted that the purpose of the princess was, to
have an association entered into to destroy aU the papists in
England, in case the prince of Orange should be kiUed or
murthered by any of them.' "
An association for the purpose of extermination is always
an ugly blot in history. Many times have the Roman-
cathoUcs been charged with such leagues, and it is indis
putable that they were more than once guilty of carrying
them into ferocious execution. But the idea that the
father of the princess Anne was one of the proscribed
religion, and that she could be enrolled as the chief of an
association for extermination of those among whom he was
included, is a trait surpassing the polemic horrors of the
sixteenth century. May this terrible fact be excused under
the plea of the stupidity of Anne, and her utter incapacity
for reasoning from cause to effect ? Could she not perceive
that her father's head would have been the first to be laid
low by such an association ? If she did not, lord Chester
field did. " I would not enter into it," he continues,' " nor
sign the paper the bishop of London had drawn ; and after
my refusing, lord Ferrers, lord CuUen, and above a hun
dred gentlemen refused to sign this association, which made
the princess Anne extremely angry. However, I kept my
promise with her highness, and waited on her from Leices
ter to Coventry, and from thence to Warwick."
' Memoir of PhUip, second earl of Chesterfield, from his autograph papers.
Bath-house, pubUsbed with his letters; pp. 48-50.
« Ibid.

MAEY II. 173
Such was the errand on which Anne had left her home :
let us now see what was going on in that home. Great
was the consternation of her household at the Cockpit on
the morning of November 26, when two hours had elapsed
beyond her usual time of ringing for her attendants. Her
women and Mrs. Danvers having vainly knocked and called
at her door, at last had it forced. Wlien they entered, they
found the bed open, with the impression as if it had been
slept in. Old. Mrs. Buss, the nurse' of the princess, im
mediately cried out "that the princess had been murdered
by the queen's priests," and the whole party ran screaming
to lady Dartmouth's apartments: some went to lord Cla
rendon's apartments with the news. As lady Clarendon
did not know the abusive names by which her niece and
lady ChurchiU used to revUe her, she threw herself into an
agony of affectionate despair. WhUe Mrs. Buss rushed into
the queen's presence, and mdely demanded the princess
Anne of her majesty, lady Clarendon ran about lamenting
for her all over the court. This uproar was appeased by a
letter, addressed to the queen, being found open on the
toilet of the princess. It was never brought to the queen;'
yet its discovery somewhat allayed the storm which sud
denly raged around her, for a furious mob had coUected in
the streets, vowing that Whitehall should be plucked do"wn,
and the queen torn to pieces, if she did not give up the
princess Anne. The letter was published in the Gazette
next day by the partisans of Anne. It has been infinitely
admired by those who have never compared it with the one
she wrote to the prince of Orange on the same subject : —
"THE Peincess Anne of Denmaek to the Queen oe James II.
" Madam, (Found at the Cockpit, Nov. 26.)
" I beg your pardon if I am so deeply affected with the surprising neivs of
the prince's [George of Denmark] being gone as not to be able to see you, but
to leave tliis paper to express my humble dmty to the king and yourself, and to
' Lord Dartmouth's Notes. Anne's nurse was a papist, as Dr. Lake afiirms ;
perhaps she had been converted.
' Meinoirs of James II., edited by the rev. Stanier Clark. The king men
tions this letter, but declares neither he nor the queen ever saw it, excejit in the
public prints. Dr. Stanier Clark prints the name of Anne's nurse as Buss :
Lewis Jenlcins, one of her feUow-servants, calls her Butt,

•174 MAEY IL
let you know that I am gone to absent myself to avoid the king's displeasure,
which I am not able to bear, either against the prince or myself; and I shaU
stay at so great a distance, as not to return tUl I hear the happy news of a
reconcilement. And as I am confident the prince did not leave the king with
any other design than to use aU possible means for bis preservation, so I hope
you will do me the justice to beUeve that I am uncapable of foUowing him for
any other end. Never was any one 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 foUow one to preserve the other.
" I see the general faUing-off of the nobiUty and gentry, who avow to have
no other end than to prevaU with the king to secure their religion, which they
saw so much in danger from the violent councils of the priests, who, to promote
their own reUgion, did not care to what dangers they exposed the king. I am
fuUy persuaded that Oie prince of Orange designs the king's safety and preser
vation, and hope aU things may be composed without bloodshed, by the calUng
of a parUament.
" God grant an happy end to these troubles, and that the king's [James II.]
reign may be prosperous, and that I may shortly meet you in perfect peace and
safety ; t'ui when, let me beg of you to continue the same favourable opinion
that you have hitherto bad of " Y"our most obedient daughter and servant, " Anne."'
One historian chooses to say that Anne had been beaten by
her step-mother previously to the composition of this letter.
Yet immediately beneath his assertion he quotes its conclu
sion, being an entreaty to the queen,' ending "with this sen
tence, " let me beg of you to continue the same favourable
opinion that you have hitherto had of your obedient daughter
and servant, Anne." Now, people seldom express favourable
opinions of those whom they beat, and still seldomer do the
beaten persons wish those who beat them to continue in the
same way of thinking concerning themselves.
It is a curious fact, that the princess Anne should "write
two letters on the same subject, entfrely opposite in profes
sion, convicting herself of shameless falsehood, and that they
should both be preserved for the elucidation of the "writer's
real disposition : —
"THE Peincess Anne to the Peince of Oeange.
" The Cockpit, November 18.
" Having on all occasions given you and my sister all imaginable assurances
of the real friendship and kindness I have for you both, I hope it is not neces
sary for me to repeat any thing of that kind ; and on the subject you have now
' Lansdowne Papers, No. 1236, fol. 230, appai-ently the original, as it is
endorsed with the name, Anne, in Italic capitals, very much rescmbUng her own
autograph. The paper is very old and yellow ; it has never been folded.
« Echard, 920, vol. iii.

MAEY IL 17S
wrote to me, I shall not trouble you with many compUments, only, in short, to
assure you that you have my wishes for your good success in this so just au
tmdertaking ; and I hope the prince^ will soon be with you, to let you see his
readiness to join with you, who, I am sure, will do you all the service that
lies in his power. He went yesterday with the king towards Salisbury,
intending to go from thence to you as soon as his friends thought proper. I
am not yet certain if I shaU continue here, or remove into the dty. That shall
depend upon the advice my friends wiU give me; but wherever I am, I shaU be
ready to show you how much I am " Your humble servant, "Anne." 2
A report prevaUed among the people, in excuse for Anne's
conduct, that her father had sent orders to arrest her and
send her to the Tower on the previous day,^ but this plea
she dared not urge for herself, as may seen in her farewell
letter. By the perusal of the last-quoted letter, which was
written before the one addressed to the queen, aU the senti
ments of conflicting duties, of ignorance and innocence
regarding her husband's intention of departure, are utterly
exploded. As for any tenderness regarding the safety of
her unfortunate father, or pretended mediation between him
and the prince of Orange, a glance over the genuine emana
tion of her mind wiU show that she never alluded to king
James excepting to aggravate his faiUts. So far from the
desertion of the prince of Denmark being unknown to her,
it was announced by her own pen several days before it took
place. It would have been infinitely more respectable, had
the prince and princess of Denmark pursued the path they
deemed most conducive to their interests without any gri
mace of sentiment. As for profaning the church of Eng
land for one moment, by assuming that devotion to its prin
ciples inspfred the tissue of foul falsehood which poUuted
the mind of the princess Anne, it is what we do not intend
' Her husband, George of Denmark.
' In king WiUiam's box at Kensington ; found there and pubUshed by sir
John Dahymple, Appendix, p. 333.
' Contemporary letter, endorsed "To the lady Margaret Ruissell, Wobuin-
abbey, (Woburn bag,)" among family papers of bis grace the duke of Devon-
'shire, copied, by kind permission, July 2, 1846. In the course of this MS. the
writer Affirms, that "previously to the escape of the prince and princess of
Demnark, lord Feversham bad been on his knees two hours entreating the king
to arrest lord ChurchUl; but the king would not beUeve any thing against
him."

176 MAEY II.
to do. The conduct of those who were tho true and real
disciples of our church will soon be shown, though a strait
and narrow path they trod, which led not to this world's
honours and prosperity.
James II. arrived in London soon after the uproar regard^
ing the departure of his daughter had subsided. He was
extremely ill, having been bled four times in the course of
the three preceding days, which was the real reason of his
leaving the army,' He expected to be consoled by some
very extraordinary manifestation of duty and affection fronj
the princess Anne, and when he heard the particulars of her
desertion, he struck his breast, and exclaimed, "God help
me ! my own children have forsaken me in my distress."
Still he expressed the utmost anxiety lest his daughter,
whose state he supposed was precarious, should in any way
injure herself. From that hour, James II, lost all hope or
interest in his struggle for regality. His mind was over
thrown,' In fact, civil wars have taken place between kins
men, brothers, nephews, and uncles, and even between fa-
thers and sons ; but history produces only two other instances
of warfare between daughters and fathers, and of those in
stances many a bitter comparison was afterwards drawn.
James himself was not aware how deeply his daughter Anne
was concerned in all the conspiracies against him ; he lived
and died utterly unconscious of the foul letters she wrote to
her sister, or of that to the prince of Orange, announcing to
him her husband's flight. He expresses his firm belief that
she acted under the control of her husband,^ and by the
persuasions of lady ChurchiU and lady Berkeley, With the
fond delusion often seen in parents in middle life, he speaks
of the personal danger she incurred regarding her health in
her flight from the Cockpit, as if it were almost the worst
part of her conduct to him,''
The prince of Orange moved forward from the west of
England, giving out that it was his intention to prove a
' See the Life of his consort, queen Mary Beatrice.
« Ibid., vol. vi. p. 261. • Dalrymple's Appendix,
* Original Papers, edited by Macpherson, Likewise Roger Coke's Detection,
vol, iu. p. 123, Diary of lord Chirendon, vol. ii. p, 216.

MARY IL 177
mediator between James II. and his people, and thus in
ducing many of the most loyal subjects of the crown to
join him for that purpose. Lord Clarendon, his wife's
uncle, met him at Salisbury, where his head-quarters were,
in hopes of assisting at an amicable arrangement. Prince
George of Denmark was stUl with the Dutch army : to him
lord Clarendon instantly went. The prince asked him news
of James IL, and then " when his princess went away ? and
who went with her ?" ' — " Of which," says lord Clarendon,
" I gave him as particular an account as I could," Prince
George said, " I wonder she went not sooner." Lord Cla
rendon observed, "that he wished her journey might do her
no harm," Every one supposed that the princess Anne was
within a few weeks of her accouchement. The next reply
of the prince convinced him that this was really a deception,
although constantly pleaded in excuse to her father when he
had required her presence at the bfrth of the prince of
Wales, or any ceremonial regarding the queen. The prin
cess Anne had actually herself practised a fraud nearly simi
lar to that of which she falsely accused her unfortunate
stop-mother. That accusation must have originated in the
capability for imposition which she found in her own mind.
Her uncle was struck with horror when her husband told
him that the princess had not been in any state requiring
particular care. His words are, " This startled me. Good
God ! nothing but lying and dissimulation, I then told him
¦ with what tenderness the king had spoken of the princess
Anne, and how much trouble of heart he showed when she
found that she had left him;' but to this, prince George of
Denmark answered not one word,"'
The prince of Orange advanced from Salisbury to Oxford,
and rested at Abingdon, and at Henley-on-Thames received
the news that James II, had disbanded his army; and also
that the queen' had escaped with the prince of Wales to
France, and that king James II, had departed, December 11,
' Diary of lord Clarendon, vol. ii. p. 216.
2 Ibid.
' For these particulars, see Life of Mary Beatrice of Modena.
VOL, VII. N

178 MAEY IL
a few days afterwards, at which the prince of Orange could
not conceal his joy. The prince of Denmark remained in
Oxford to receive the princess his wife, who made a grand
entry with miUtary state, escorted by several thousand
mounted gentlemen, who, with thefr tenants, had mustered
in the mid-counties to attend her. Compton bishop of Lon
don, her tutor, had for some days resumed his old dress and
occupation of a miUtary leader, and rode before her "with his
purple flag.' The princess Anne and her consort remained
some days at Oxford, greatly feasted and caressed by their
party. Meantime, the prince of Orange approached the mefro-
polis no nearer than Windsor, for the unfortunate James
II. had been brought back to WhitehaU. The joy mani
fested by his people at seeing him once more, alarmed his
opponents. The prince of Orange had moved forward to
Sion-house, Brentford, from whence he despatched his Dutch
guards to expel his uncle from WhitehaU. It seems, neither
Anne nor his sons-in-law cared to enter the presence of
James again, and they would not approach the metropoUs
till he had been forced out of it. The next day, the prince
of Orange made his entry into London -without pomp, in a
travelling-carriage dra"wn by post-horses, "with a cloak-hag
strapped at the back of it,' He arrived at St, James's-palace
about four in the afternoon, and retired at once to his bed
chamber. BeUs were rung, guns were fired, and his party
manifested thefr joy at his arrival, as the Jacobites had done
when the king returned. The prince and princess of Den
mark arrived on the evening of the 19th of December from
Oxford, and took up thefr abode as usual at the Cockpit,'
• Aubrey,
^ MS. inedited Stepney Papers ; letter of Horace Walpole the elder, to his
brother sir Eobert Walpole. The words are worth quoting. When Stanhope,
the EngUsh ambassador from queen Anne, was urging the reluctant Charles
of Austria to press on to Madrid and seize the Spanish crown, after one of
Peterborough's briUiant victories, " the German prince excused himself, because
his equipages were not ready. Stanhope repUed, ' The prince of Orange entered
London, in 1688, with a coach and four, and a cloak-bag tied behind it, and a
few weeks after was crowned king of Great Britain.' "
• Clarendon's Diary, vol. ii. p. 231.

MARY IL 179
No leave-taking ever passed between the princess Anne
and her unfortunate father; they had had their last meet
ing in this world, spoken their last words, and looked upon
each other for the last time, before his reverse of fortune
occurred. No effort did Anne make, cherished and indulg
ed as she had ever been, to see her father ere he went forth
into exile for ever. Yet there had never arisen the slightest
disagreement between them, no angry chiding regarding
thefr separate creeds; no offence had ever been given her
but the existence of her hapless brother. Had she taken
the neutral part of retirement from the pubUc eye while he
was yet in England, — ill, unhappy, and a prisoner, her con
duct could not have dra"wn down the contemptuous comment
which it did from an eye-witness : " King James was carried
down the river in a most tempestuous evening, not -without
actual danger ; and while her poor old father was thus ex
posed to danger, an actual prisoner under a guard of Dutch
men, at that very moment his daughter, the princess Anne
of Denmark, "with her great favourite, lady ChurchiU, both
covered with orange ribbons, went in one of his coaches,
attended by his guards, triumphant to the playhouse." ' It
was on the same stormy night that James II. escaped from
the Dutch guards, and "withdrew to France.'
The conduct of the princess Anne at this crisis is recorded
with utter indignation by her church-of-England uncle.
Clarendon. " In the afternoon of January the 17th, I was
¦with the princess Anne. I took the liberty to tell her thai
many good people were extremely troubled to find that she
seemed no more concerned for her father's misfortunes. It
was noticed that, when the news came of his final departure
from the country, she was not the least moved, but caUed for
cards, and was as merry as she used to be." To this Anne
replied, " Those who made such reflections on her actions
» Bevil Higgon's Short Views of EngUsh History, p. 363. The Devonshire
MS. previously quoted confirms the fact, that the ladies in the household of
Anne at that time wore orange colour as a party-badge. Anne herself, in her
picture at the Temple, is di-essed in orange and green, the colours of her brother-
in-law's Uvery, ' See Life of his consort, Mary Beatrice,
N 2

180 MAEY IL
did her wrong ; but it was true that she did caU for cards
then, because she was accustomed to play, and that she never
loved to do any thing that looked like an affected constraint,"
" And does your royal highness think that showing some
trouble for the king your father's misfortunes could be inter
preted as an affected constraint?" was the stern rejoinder
from her uncle, " I am afraid," he continued, " such beha
viour lessens you much in the opinion of the world, and even
in that of your father's enemies. But," adds he, in com
ment, "with all this, she was not one jot moved,"' Cla
rendon demanded whether she had shown his letter, written
to her in his grief on his son's desertion from her father.
The princess said, " No; she had burnt it as soon as read."
But her uncle pressed the matter home to her, " because,"
he said, " the contents were matter of public discourse."
The princess replied, " She had shown the letter to no one ;
but she could not imagine where was the harm, if she had."
" I am still of the same opinion as when it was written,"
observed her uncle. " I think that my son has done a very
abominable action, even if it be viewed but as a breach of
trust ; but if your royal highness repeats all that is said or
-written to you, few people wiU tell you any thing,"' The
princess turned the discourse -with complaining " That his
son never waited on prince George, which was more neces
sary now than ever, since the prince had no one but him of
quality about him; that she had reproved lord Combury herr
self, but he took so little heed of it, that at one time she
thought of desiring him to march ofl", and leave room for
somebody else; but that, as it was at a time that the family
' Clarendon Diary, vol. n. pp. 249-251.
^ The regiments said to desert with Combury, according to Burnet's MS.
letter, (Harleian, 6798,) were three ; one of them, the dragoons commanded by
lord Cornbury, another was Berwick's regiment, late the carl of Oxford's, and
the third tho duke of St. Albans'. " Lord Cornbury marched them off to tho
prince of Orange's camp ; but when day dawned, and the officers and thar men
perceived where their steps directed, they cried aloud and halted, putting all into
complete confiision." These officers. Dr. Burnet declared, "were papists;" but
whatsoever they were, they drew off half Combury's own regiment, chief part
of St. Albans', and aU Berwick's hut fifty horsemen, and turned back to kuig
James under tho command of Combury's msyor.

MAEY II. 181
seemed oppressed, she had no mind to do a hard thing."
The oppression she meant was, when James II, had dismissed
Clarendon and her other uncle from thefr employments, on
account of their attachment to the church of England. HeJ
uncle drily returned thanks for her gracious intimation,
observing, " That his son, though he often complained of
hardship put upon him, was to blame for neglecting his duty."
The princess stated " That the prince, her husband, was at a
great loss for some person of quality about him ; that he had
thoughts of taking lord Scarsdale again, but that he proved
so pitiful a -wretch, that they would have no more to do with
him." — " I asked," said lord Clarendon, " whom he thought
to take ?" The princess said, " sir George Hewett." Cla
rendon observed to the princess Anne, that " sir George
was no nobleman. ' He might be made one when things
are settled,' said the princess, ' and she hoped such a thing
would not be denied to the prince her husband and her.' I
asked her ' how that could be done without king James?'
' Sure,' replied the princess Anne, 'there wUl be a way found
out at one time or other.' " ' Sir George Hewett, it wiU be
remembered, was the man who had deserted -with lord
ChurchUl, and was implicated in the scheme for either
seizing or assassinating the king, her father. Lord Cla
rendon, when he -visited the Dutch head-quarters, had
bluntly asked lord Churchill " whether it was a fact?" who,
with his usual graceful and urbane manner, and in that
peculiar intonation of voice which his contemporary, lord
Dartmouth, aptly describes as soft and whining, pronounced
himself " the most ungrateful of mortals, if he could have
perpetrated aught against his benefactor, Idng James."
A convention of the lords and some of the members who
had been returned in the last parliament of Charles II. were
then on the point of meeting, to settle the government of the
kingdom. In this convention Sancroft, the archbishop of
Canterbury, positively refused to sit, or to acknowledge its
jurisdiction. The earl of Clarendon was anxious to discuss
with the princess Anne the dying reports of the town, which
' Clarendon Diarj', vol. U. pp. 250, 251.

182 MAEY II.
declared " that the intention was to settle the crown on the
prince of Orange and his -wife; but that in case the latter
died first, lea-ving no issue, the crown was to belong to him
for his life, before it descended, in the natural succession, to
the princess Anne and her children." Clarendon was indig
nant at this proposed innovation on the hereditary monarchy
of the British government, and endeavoured to rouse the
princess Anne to prevent any interpolation between her and
her rights of succession. To which she replied, " That she
had heard the rumours that the prince and princess of
Orange were to be crowned, but she was sure she had never
given no occasion to have it said that she consented to any
such a thing ; that she had indeed been told that Dr. Bur
net should talk of it, but she would never consent to any
thing that should be to the prejudice of herself or her chU
dren." She added, "that she knew very weU that the
republican party were very busy, but that she hoped that
the honest party -n^ould be most prevalent in the conven
tion, and not suffer wrong to be done to her." Clarendon
told the princess, " That if she continued in the mind she
seemed to be in, she ought to let her wishes be known to
some of both houses before the meeting of the convention."
Anne replied " she would think of it, and send for some of
them.'" Her uncle then turned upon her with a close
home question, which was " whether she thought that her
father could be justly deposed ?" To this the princess Anne
replied, " Sure ! they are too great points for me to meddle
with. I am sorry the king brought things to such a pass as
they were at ;" adding, " that she thought it would not be
safe for him ever to return again." Her uncle asked her
fiercely the question, "What she meant by that?" To
which Anne repUed, " Nothing."' Without repeating seve
ral characteristic dialogues of this nature, which her uncle
has recorded, the princess Anne and her spouse entrusted
him "with a sort of commission to watch over her interests in
the proceedings of the convention. The princess Ukewise
penned a long letter of lamentations to her uncle on the
' Clai-endon's Diary, vol. u. pp. 230, 251. s Ibid., pp. 248, 249.

MAEY n. 183
wrongs she found that the convention meant to perpetrate
against her : she, however, bade him burn the letter.
The postponement of succession to the prince of Orange
(supposing the prince of Wales was for ever excluded) en
croached not much on the tenderness due to that internal
idol, self. Very improbable it was that a diminutive asth
matic invalid, Uke the prince of Orange, frrepressibly bent
on war, ten years of age in advance, withal, should survive
her majestic sister, who had, since she had been accUmatized
to the afr of Holland, enjoyed a buxom state of health.
There was, nevertheless, a tissue of vacUlating diplomacy
attempted by Anne : she used a great deal of needless false
hood in denial of the letter she had written to her uncle
when she supposed he had burnt it, and resorted to equi
vocation when he produced it, to the confusion of herself
and her cUque.' As some shelter from the awful respon-
sibUity perpetually represented to her by her uncle, Anne
at last declared "she would be guided regarding her con
duct by some very pious friends, and abide by their de
cision." The friends to whom she appealed were Dr. TU
lotson, and Rachel lady RusseU.' Their opinion was weU
known to the princess before it was asked. Dr. Tillotson
had been an enemy to James II. from an early period of his
career, and had been very active in promoting the revolu
tion ; as for lady Russell, it was no duty of hers to awaken
in the mind of Anne any affectionate feeling to James II.
Both referees arbitrated according to the benefit of thefr
party, and ad-vised Anne to give place to her brother-in-law
in the succession.
Although the princess Anne had thus made up her mind,
the national convention were far from resolved. The situa
tion of the country was rather startling, the leader of a weU-
disciplined army of 14,000 foreign soldiers, quartered in or
about London, being actuaUy in possession of the functions
of government. When the convention had excluded the
unconscious heir, it by no means imagined a necessity for
¦ Clarendon's Diary, vol. U. pp. 255, 257.
« Birch's Life of Dr. TUlotson.

184 JLARY It.
further innovating on the succession by superseding the
daughters of James IL, who had not offended them by the
adoption of an obnoxious creed ; and weU did the clergy of
the church of England know that the creed of the prince of
Orange was as inconsistent -with their church as that of
James II. Besides that discrepancy, his personal hatied to
the rites of our church has been sho-wn by Dr. Hooper, who
has, moreover, recorded the vigorous kick he bestowed on
the communion-table prepared in the chapel of his princess.
Some of the members of the convention were startled at the
fearful e-vUs attendant on a crown-elective, which, as the
history of Poland and the German empfre fuUy proved, not
only opened doors, but flood-gates to corruption. When
they subsequently sought the line of Hanoverian princes as
thefr future sovereigns, the EngUsh parUament recognised
the hereditary principle, by awarding the crown to the next
Uneal hefr -wUling to conform with and protect the national
reUgion; but when they gave the cro-wn to WilUam III.,
they repudiated two hefresses who were afready of the esta
blished church, and thus rendered, for some years, the crown
of Great Britain elective. Before this arrangement was con
cluded, the princess Anne began to feel regret for the course
she had pursued. Lord Scarsdale, who was then in her
household, heard her say at this juncture, "Now am I
sensible of the error I committed in leaving my father and
making myself of a party with the prince, who puts by my
right." '
The day the throne was declared vacant by the convention
of parUament, sfr Isaac Ne-wton (then Mr. Isaac Newton)
was -risiting archbishop Sancroft; what feeling the great
astronomer expressed at the news is not recorded, but the
archbishop showed deep concern, and hoped proper attention
would be paid to the claims of the infant prince of Wales,
saying "that his identity might be easUy proved, as he had a
mole on his neck at his bfrth." Perhaps king WiUiam was
not pleased -with the -visit of Newton to Lambeth at this
' Ealph's History, vol. ii. p. 44. Lord Scarsdale repeated this speech to
Ralph.

MAEY II. 185
crisis, since a tradition is afloat on the sea of anecdotes, that
some of his councU "wishing him to consult Isaac Ne"wton on
a point of difficulty, the king repUed, " Pooh ! he is only a
phUosopher: what can he know?"' The demeanour of
WUUam of Orange at this juncture was perfectly inexpUcable
to the EngUsh oUgarchy sitting in convention. Reserved as
WiUiam ever was to his princess, he was "wrapped in tenfold
gloom and taciturnity when absent from her. The English
magnates could not gather the sUghtest intimation of his
mind whUst he was "wrapped in this imperturbable fit of sul-
lenness. They applied to the Dutchmen to know what ailed
their master, and from Fagel and Zulestein they gathered
that his highness was afflicted -with an access of political
jealousy of his submissive partner, whom the convention
considered queen-regnant, for his reply was, "that he did
not choose to be gentleman-usher to his own wife." '
On the annimciation of this gracious response, the English
oUgarchy returned to reconsider their verdict. Some deemed
that the introduction of a foreigner, the ruler of a country
the most inimical to the EngUsh naval power, and to the
mighty colonies and trading factories newly planted by
James II. in every quarter of the world, was a bitter alter
native forced on them by the perverse persistance of their
monarch in his unfortunate reUgion; but they were by no
means incUned to disinherit Mary, the Protestant hefress,
and render their monarchy elective by giving her husband
the preference to her. There was a private consultation on
the subject held at the apartments of WiUiam Herbert, at
St. James's-palace. WiUiam's favourite Dutchmen were ad
mitted to this conclave, which was held round Herbert's bed,
he being then confined -with a violent fit of the gout. Ben
tinck then and there deUberately averred, that it was best
only to aUow the princess Mary to take the rank of queen-
consort, and not of queen-regnant. When the gouty patient
heard this opinion, he became so excessively excited, that,
forgetting his lameness, he leaped out of bed, and, seizing
his sword, exclaimed, that "If the prince of Orange was
» Birch's Life of TiUotson. ^ Burnet's Own Times,

186 MAEY IL
capable of such conduct to his wife, he would never draw
that for him again!"' The Dutch favourite carried the in
cident to his master, who was forth-with plunged stiU deeper
in splenetic gloom. When he at last spoke, after a space of
several days of profound taciturnity, he made a soUloquy in
Dutch to this purport, that " He was tfred of the EngUsh.
He would go back to HoUand, and leave thefr crown to
whosoever could catch it," After he had thus spoken, WU
liam of Orange relapsed into sUence. The revolution seemed
at a stand. WhUst he remains in this ungracious state of
temper, which, to the consternation of the English oligarchy
lasted some weeks, we will take wing to Holland, and gather
some intelligence concerning his absent consort.
General history maintains a mysterious sUence regarding
the manner in which the princess of Orange spent her days
whUst England was lost by her sfre and won by her spouse.
The readers of the printed tomes of her poUtical and spiritual
ad-viser, Dr, Burnet, are forced to rest contented "with the
information that she went four times daily to public prayers
at the Hague, " vrith a very composed countenance," The
princess, however, contrived to mingle some other occupa
tions with her public exercise of piety. For instance, she
was engaged in cultivating a strong intimacy -with the fugi
tive earl and countess of Sunderland at this dim period of
her biography. They had just taken refuge, under her pro
tection, from the rage of the English people. As Sunderland
had for the more effectual betrayal of her father affected to
become a Catholic convert, and now offered the tribute of
his faith to the tenets of Calvin, the princess put him to be
purified under the care of a friend and counsellor of her o^vn,
who is called by her contemporary, Cunningham, "Gervas, the
Dutch prophet,"' Whether he were the same prophet who
earned the title by foretelUng to her royal highness the sub
sequent exaltation of herself and husband to the throne of
England, cannot precisely be ascertained ; but she assuredly
had her fortune told while her husband was invading her
' Works of Sheflicld duke of Buckingham, vol. ii.. Narrative, pp. 86, 87,
* Cunningliam's History of Great Britain, vol, i, p. 96.

MAEY II. 187
father, because she informed Burnet' how every circum
stance predicted had proved true when she afterwards arrived
in England, The employment of privately peeping into
futurity while her husband was effecting the downfall of her
father, forms an odd contrast to her public participation in
prayer four times daily.
Other supernatural indications were communicated to the
princess regarding the success of the invasion, by the less
objectionable channel of the dream of lady Henrietta Camp-
beU, the wife of a refugee from the Argyle insurrection, who
was under the protection of the Orange court. The night
after the expedition saUed, in which her husband had em
barked, lady Henrietta dreamed that the prince of Orange
and his fleet arrived safely on the coast of England, but that
there was a great brazen waU built up to oppose them.
When they landed, and were endeavouring to scale it, the
wall came tumbling down, being entfrely built of Bibles.'
The lady forthwith told her dream to the princess of Orange
and lady Sunderland, who were both, as she says, much
taken "with it. The tale, from an author puerile and false as
Wodrow, deserves Uttle attention but for one circumstance ;
which is, that lady Sunderland was in familiar intercourse
with the princess of Orange, and located with her as early as
November 1, 1688.
The princess was likewise earnestly engaged in negotiating
by letter to her spouse the return of her friend and neophyte
Sunderland.^ Most "willingly would WilUam of Orange have
received him, but, unfortunately, the great body of the Eng
Ush people manifested against the serviceable revolutionist a
degree of loathing and hatred which he deemed dangerous.
In the course of the correspondence, the royalists accused the
princess of reproaching her spouse " for letting her father go
as he did," — a reproach which seems afterwards to have been
uttered by her in passion,* when she was in London, safely
surrounded by her English partisans ; but as for "writing or
uttering a disapproving word to her lord and master whilst
' Burnet's MSS., Harleian MSS. ' Wodrow's Analecta, tom. i. p. 281.
' Cunningham's History of England, * Memou^s of James II.

188 MAEY II.
she was in HoUand, it was certainly more than she dared
to do. The family junta ever surrounding the princess of
Orange in her own domestic establishment were reduced
by death just as the Dutch party became triumphant in
England. Anne VilUers, the wife of Bentinck, died soon
after the prince of Orange landed at Torbay.' Lady Inchi
quin, madame Puissars, and the mistress of the prince of
Orange, EUzabeth VilUers, still formed part of the house
hold of the princess in HoUand, whUe the EngUsh revo
lution was maturing.
Meantime, the taciturn obstinacy of the prince of Orange
in England fairly wearied out the opponents to his indepen
dent royalty. He knew that the English nobUity who had
effected the revolution were placed in an awkward position,
and that, in fact, they would be forced to perform his wiU
and pleasure. His proceedings are thus noted by an eye
witness : " Access to him was not very easy. He listened to
all that was said, but seldom answered. This reservedness
continued several weeks, during which he enclosed himself at
St. James's. Nobody could tell what he desired.'" At last,
the " gracious Duncan" spake of his grievances. One day
he told the marquess of Halifax, and the earls of Shrews
bury and Danby, his mind in this speech : " The English,"
he said, " were for putting the princess Mary singly on the
throne, and were for making him reign by her courtesy.
No man could esteem a woman more than he did the prin
cess ; but he was so made, that he could not hold any thing
by apron strings."^ This speech plunged the English nobles
into more perplexity than ever, from which, according to
his own account, they were reUeved by Dr, Burnet, He
came forward as the guide of Mary's conscience, and her
confidant on this knotty point, and promised, in her name,
" that she would prefer yielding the precedence to her hus
band in regard to the succession, as well as in every other
affair of life," Lord Danby did not wholly trust to the
evidence of Burnet. He sent the princess of Orange a nar-
' Clarendon Diary.
* Works of Sheffield duke of Buckingham, vol, U. pp. 86, 87. ' Ibid,

MAEY II. 189
rative of the state of affairs, assuring her, "that if she con
sidered it proper to insist on her Uneal rights, he was certain
that the convention would persist in declaring her sole sove
reign." The princess answered, " that she was the prince's
¦wife, and never meant to be other than in subjection to him,
and that she did not thank any one for setting up for her an
interest dirided from that of her husband." Not content
with this answer, she sent Danby's letter and proposals to
her spouse in England.'
The national convention of lords and commons then set
tled, that the prince of Orange was to be offered the dignity
of king of England, France, and Ireland, (Scotland being a
separate kingdom); that the princess, his -wife, was to be of
fered the joint sovereignty; that aU regal acts were to be
effected in their united names, but the executive power was
to be vested in the prince. No one explained why the
English convention thought proper to legislate for France
and Ireland, while, at the same time, it left to Scotland the
privUege of legislating for itself. The succession was set
tled on the issue of WUliam and Mary ; if that faUed, to the
princess Anne and her issue ; and if that failed, on the issue
of William by any second wife ; and if that failed, on whom
soever the parUament thought fit.' The elder portion of the
EngUsh revolutionists were happy to find affairs settled in
any way, but the younger and more fiery spirits, who had
been inspfred by romantic enthusiasm for the British hefress
and a female reign, began to be tired of the revolution, and
disgusted -with the suUen selfishness of its hero. Thefr
discontent exhaled in song : —
" AU haU to the Orange ! my masters, come on,
I'U teU you what wonders he for us has done :
He has puUed down the father, and thrust out the son.
And put by the daughters, and fiUed up the throne
With an Orange !"'
' Tindal's Continuation, pp. 86, 87.
^ Burnet and Eapin, vol. ii. foUo, p. 794.
' Contemporary MS. from the Ubrary of the Stuart-palace at Eome. It
consists of the popular poUtical songs of the EngUsh revolution, and was pre
sented to the great English artist, sir Eobert Strange, by the chevalier St.
George, whose armorial insignia are on the binding. The volume preserves

190 MAEY IL
The prince of Orange, after the settlement was made to
his own satisfaction, permitted his consort to embark for
England; she had been ostensibly detained in Holland,
while the succession was contested, by frosts and contrary
winds. It is said that Mary was so infinitely beloved in
Holland, that she left the people aU in tears when she
embarked, February 10th, to take possession of the English
throne. She burst into tears herself, on hearing one of
the common people express a -wish "that the English might
love her as weU as those had done whom she was lea-ving."
The embarkation of the princess took place at the BrUl.
The evening when the news arrived in London that the
Dutch fieet, escorting the princess of Orange, was making
the mouth of the Thames, the metropoUs blazed with joyous
bonfires. The pope, not-withstanding his deep enmity to
James IL, was duly burnt in effigy : he was provided -with
a companion, the fugitive father Petre. These were accom
panied by a representative of the rival of the princess of
Orange in the succession to the British throne, even the
image of her poor little infant brother, — the first time,
perhaps, that a baby of six months old was ever executed
in effigy. Many persons have heard that puppets, repre
senting the "pope and pretender," were always consumed
on the anniversaries of the Revolution, but few know how
early the latter was burnt in these pageants, as a testi
monial of respect to celebrate the landing and proclamation
of his sister. " Aliment to the brutal passions was prepared,"
observes a French historian of this century,' " being ignoble
representations of the pope, father Petre, and the priuce
of Wales, which were thrown into the fiames, — a spectacle
agreeable to the multitude, no doubt; but even poUtical
expediency ought not to be suffered to outrage nature."
many curious traits of the people utterly lost to history. The author has been
favoured, by the present accompUshed lady Strange, with the loan of the
manuscript. ' Mazm-e, Revolution de 1688, p. 368.

M^

^-Mf/z^^/y-JZ.

MARY II.
QUEEN-REGNANT OF GREAT BRITAIN ATSTD lEELAND.

CHAPTER V.

Eegnal Ufe of Mary II. — Her position in the sovereignty — Remarkable instances
of conjugal submission — Scene of her landing, from a contemporary painting
— Arrival at Greenwich — Meeting with her sister Anne — Lands at White
haU-stairs — ^Unseemly joy — Proclamation of WiUiam III. and Mary II. —
Queen sends for archbishop Sancroft's blessing — Awful answer — Queen's Ul-
will to her uncles — Her -visit to Hampton-Court-^Exhortation to Dr. Burnet
and his wife — Coronation morning — Arrival of her father's letter — His male
diction — Coronation of WiUiam and Mary — They take the oath as king and
queen of Scotland — Dissension with the princess Anne — Her pecuniary dis
tress — King's rudeness to her at table — Qufeen's behaviour at the play — Goes
to curiosity-shops — To a fortune-teller — Rude reproofs of the king — Life of
king and queen at Hampton-Court — ^Birth of the princess Amie's son —
Baptized — Proclaimed duke of Gloucester — His deUcate health — Anne retires
from Hampton-Court to Craven-hUl — Quarrel with the queen — ParUament
provides for Anne — lU-wiU of the queen'^— Insults to the princess — King
prepares for the Irish campaign.
The swiftest gales and the most propitious weather that
ever speeded a favourite of fortune to the possession of a
throne, attended Mary princess of Orange in her short tran
sit from the port of the Brill to the mouth of her native
Thames, She arrived there, glo"wing in health, and over
flowing "vrith an excess of joyous spirits beyond her power
to repress. Mary was brilUant in person at this epoch, and
had not yet attained her twenty-seventh year; she had
been declared joint sovereign with her husband, but was
not yet proclaimed, thefr signatures to the BUI of Rights
being expected in return for the election which elevated
them to her father's throne.
Mary brought in her train her domestic rival, EUzabeth
ViUiers, whom she had neither the power nor the moral
courage to expel from her household. WiUiam of Orange

192 MARY II.
had not dared to outrage pubUc opinion in England, by
making this woman the companion of his expedition against
his consort's father; but as he by no means intended to
break his connexion with her, his wife was doomed to the
mortification of chaperoning her from HoUand, Subserrient
to conjugal authority in all things, Mary submitted even to
this degradation. Her compliance prevented the EngUsh
people from murmuring at witnessing the toleration of her
husband's mistress at Whitehall, at the same time holding a
responsible situation about her own person.
The success of WilUam and Mary was not a little acce
lerated by the pubUcation of an absurd prophecy, which
affected to have described the tragic death of Charles I., the
restoration of Charles IL, and ended by declaring " that the
next king would go post to Rome;" all which was to hap
pen " when there were three queens of England at the same
time." The three queens were expounded to mean herself,
Catharine of Braganza, and Mary Beatrice.' The scene of
Mary's landing in England' on the morning of February
12, 1688-9, is graphicaUy delineated in the second of the
contemporary Dutch paintings recently brought to Hamp
ton-Court palace. A group of English courtiers are bowing
down before the princess : her page stands in the back
ground, laden with her large orange cloak, which, "with its
hanging sleeves and ample draperies, sweeps the ground.
Her gown is very low, draped "with folds of fine muslin
round the bosom, looped with strings of pearls ; her hafr is
dressed with lofty comettes of orange ribbon and aigraffes
of pearls; the purple velvet robe shows an ostentatious-
looking orange petticoat. Orange banners are borne before
the princess, and about her. Her taU lord chamberlain,
hat in hand, is dfrecting her attention to her grand state
charger, which is richly caparisoned with purple velvet
saddle, and housings emblazoned "with the cro"wn and royal
arms of Great Britain, and led by her master of the horse,
' Lamberty, vol. i. p. 371.
"^ The queen embarked at the BriU, Monday, Feb. 10, and was at the Nore
in a few hours.

MARY II. 193
sir Edward ViUiers, who is in fuU court dress. Females
are strewing fiowers.- Mary is surrounded by her officers of
state, and attended by her Dutch lady of honour, in lofty
stiff head-gear. It appears that she made a land journey
from the place of her debarkation to Greenwich. The prin
cess Anne and prince George of Denmark, with thefr atten
dants, received her majesty at Green"wich-palace.' The
royal sisters met each other " with transports of affection,"
says lady ChurchiU, " which soon feU off, and coldness
ensued." But not then; both Mary and Anne were too
much elated "with thefr success, to disagree in that hour
of joy and exultation, — joy so supreme, that Mary could
neither dissemble nor contain it. The royal barge of her
exUed father was waiting for her at Greenwich-palace stafrs,
and, amidst a chorus of shouts and welcomes from an im
mense- throng of spectators, she entered it with her sister
and brother-in-jlaw, and was in a short time rowed to White
haU-stairs, where she landed, and took possession of her
father's palace.' Her husband, for the first time since his
invasion, came to Whitehall, but not until Mary had ac
tuaUy arrived there. '^ " By such artifice WiUiam threw on
the daughter of the exiled king the odium of the first oc
cupation of his palace."*
Four writers, who aU profess to be eye-"witnesses of her
demeanour, have each recorded what they saw : one of
them, a phUosophical observer, Evelyn; another an enemy,
lady ChurchUl; a third, a panegyrist, Oldmixon; and the
fourth an apologist, her friend Burnet. This concurrence
of evidences, each of whom "wrote unknown to the other,
makes the conduct of Mary one of the best authenticated
passages in history. "She came into WhitehaU, jolly as
to a wedding," wrote Evelyn, "seeming quite transported
with joy." Some of Mary's party, to shield her from the
disgust that eye-"witnesses felt at her demeanour, declared
she was acting a part that had been sternly prescribed her
• Oldmixon, p. 780.
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough. ' Lamberty.
' Mazure, Revolution d'Angleterro, vol. iii. 365.
VOL. VH. O

194 MAEY II.
Dy her husband's letters. Her partisan, Oldmixon, enraged
at these excuses, exclaimed, " If they had seen her as others
did, they would not have ventured to report such falsity; so
far from acting a part not natural to her, there was nothing
in her looks which was not as natural and as lovely as ever
there were charms in woman."' Lady Churchill, in her
fierce phraseology, speaks of what she -witnessed without the
slightest compromise, and as her assertions are borne out
by a person respectable as Evelyn, she may be believed:
" Queen Mary wanted bowels ; of this she gave unques
tionable proof the first day she came to Whitehall. She
ran about it, looking into every closet and conveniency, and
turning up the quUts of the beds, just as people do at an
inn, with no sort of concern in her appearance. Although
at the time I was extremely caressed by her, I thought this
strange and unbecoming conduct ; for whatever necessity
there was of deposing king James, he was still her father,
who had been lately driven from that very chamber, and
from that bed ; and if she felt no tenderness, I thought, at
least, she might have felt grave, or even pensively sad, at so
melancholy a reverse of fortune.' But I kept these thoughts
in my own breast, not even imparting them to my misfress,
the princess Anne, to whom I could say any tiling." As
the conduct of her mistress had been stUl more coarse and
unnatural than that of her sister, lady ChirrchiU knew that
she could not blame one, without reflecting severely on the
other. The foUowing apology, made by her friend Burnet,'
weighs more against Mary than the bold attack of her
sister's favourite. " She put on an air of great gaiety when
she came to WhitehaU. I confess I was one of those who
censured her in my thoughts. I thought a Uttle more seri
ousness had done as weU when she came into her father's
palace, and was to be set on his throne the next day. I had
never seen the least indecency in any part of her deportment
' Oldmixon's History, p. 780.
Conduct of Surah duchess of Marlborough, p. 26.
" Burnet's Own Times.

MARY IL 195
before, which made this appear to me so extraordinary that,
afterwards, I took the Uberty to ask her, "¦ How it came,
that what she saw in so sad a revolution in her father's per
son had not made a greater impression on her?' She took
this freedom with her usual goodness, and assured me ' that
she felt the sense of it very lively in her thoughts;' but she
added, ' that the letters which had been writ to her had
obUged her to put on a cheerfulness, in which she might,
perhaps, go too far, because she was obeying dfrections, and
acting a part not natural to her.' " Thus did queen Mary
throw from herself the blame of an unfeeling levity, which had
revolted even the coarse minds of Burnet and lady Churchill;
but surely the commands of her partner had reference only
to the manner in which she acted the part of royalty whUe
the eyes of her new subjects were upon her; it did not dic
tate the heartless glee,' when she made her perambulations
to examine into the state of the goods that had fallen into
her grasp on the evening of her arrival, and betimes in the
succeeding morning. He might prescribe the grimace he
chose to be assumed in her robes, but not her proceedings
in her dressing-gown, before her women were on duty.
" She rose early in the morning," says Evelyn, who had a
relative in waiting on her, " and in her undress, before her
women were up, went about from room to room, to see the
convenience of WhitehaU. She slept in the same bed and
apartment where the queen of James II. had lain, and within
a night or two sat down to basset, as the queen her prede
cessor had done. She smUed upon aU, and talked to every
body, so that no change seemed to have taken place at court
as to queens, save that infinite throngs of people came to see
her, and that she went to our prayers. Her demeanour was
censured by many. She seems to be of a good temper, and
that she takes nothing to heart; whUe the prince, her
husband, has a thoughtful countenance, is wonderfuUy
serious and sUent, and seems to treat all persons alike
gravely, and to be very intent on his affafrs." Mary thus
took possession, not only of her father's house, but of aU the
' Evelyn's Diary, vol. ii. p. 37.
o 2

196 MAUY n.
personal property of her step-mother which had been left in
her power. Evelyn was scandalized at sccMug in her posses
sion several articles of value, among others a cabinet of
silver filigree: "It belonged," he says,' "to our queen
Mary, wife of James IL, and which, in my opinion, should
have been generously sent," — honestly would have been the
more appr()i)riate term. Tlie case was uglier, since her old
father had sent by Mr. HaycH — a servant kinder to him than
his own child — a request for his clothes and his personal
property, which her uncle, lord Clarendon, with a sad and
sore heart observes " was utterly neglected."
The morrow was appointed for the proclamation in London
of the elected sovereigns, although it was Ash- Wednesday,
The first day of Lent was then kept as one of deep humilia
tion: strange indeed did the pealing of bells, the firing of
cannon, and the flourishing of drums seem to those attached
to the established church, Tlie day was most inclement, and
¦with a dismal down-pouring of wet.' All London was, how
ever, astir, and the new queen earlier than any one, accord
ing to the preceding testimony. A})out noon on Ash- Wed
nesday, February 13th, 1688-9, William and Mary proceeded
in state-dresses, but without any diadems, from the interior of
the palace of Whitehall to the Banqueting-housc, and placed
themselves in chairs of state under the royal canopy. This
scene is best described in a letter written by lady Cavendish,
the daughter of the celebrated lady Rachel Russell, a very
young woman, sixteen years of age :'' " When the lords and
commoners had agreed upon what power to take away from
the king, [she means the Bill of Rights,] my lord Halifax,
who is chairman, went to the Banqueting-house, and in a
short speech desired them, [WiUiam and Mary,] in the name
of the lords, to accept the crown. The prince of Orange
answered in a few words, the princess made curtsies. They
' Evelyn's Diary, vol. ii. p. 37. " Ckrcndon's Diary, vol, ii.
» Tho letter is extant. In tiio coUoction of the duke of J.)evon8hire : I saw,
however, only the first portion of tho original MS. It is addressed to tii:r
cousin, Mrs. Jane AUlngton, whom, in the fashion of that day, slie caUs Silvia,
and borHcIf Dorinda. She givcH, it wiU be seen, romantic names to that very
unseutimontul pair, WiUiam and Mary. .

MARY IL 197
say, when they named her father's faults, she looked down as
if she were troubled." — " It was expected," said Evelyn,
" that both, especially the princess, would have showed some
reluctance, seeming perhaps, of assuming her father's crown,
and made some apology, testifying her regret that he should
by his mismanagement have forced the nation to so extraor
dinary a proceeding, which would have showed very hand
somely to the world, according to the character given of her
piety; consonant, also, to her husband's first declaration,
' that there was no intention of deposing the Icing, only of
succouring the nation;' but nothing of the kind appeared."
As soon as their signatures were affixed to the Bill of
Rights, WiUiam and Mary were proclaimed William III.
and Mary II. , sovereign king and queen of England,
France, and Ireland. "Many of the churchmen," resumes
the young lady Cavendish, "would not have it done on
that day, because it was Ash- Wednesday. I was at the
sight, and, as you may suppose, very much pleased to see
Ormanzor and Phenixana proclaimed king and queen of
England, instead of king James, my father's murderer.'
There were wonderful acclamations of joy, which, though
they were very pleasing to me, they frighted me too; for
I could not but think what a dreadful thing it would be
to fall into the hands of the rabble, — they are such a
strange sort of people ! At night, I went to court with
my lady Devonshire, [her mother-in-law,] and kissed the
queen's hands, and the king's also. There was a world of
bonfires and candles in almost every house, which looked
extreme pretty. The king is wonderfully admired for his
great wisdom and prudence. He is a man of no presence,
but looks very homely at first sight : yet, if one looks long
at him, he has something in his face both wise and good.
As for the queen, she is really altogether very liandsome;
her face is agreeable, and her motions extremely graceful
and fijie. She is tall, but not so tall as the last queen,
[the consort of James IL], Her room is mighty full of
' The yoilng lady was lady Rachel, daughter of the lord RusseU who was
beheaded in 1683.

198 MAEY II.
company, as you may guess." At this memorable draw
ing-room, the princess Anne displayed her knowledge of
the minute laws of royal etiquette. The attendants had
placed her tabouret too near the royal chairs, so that it
was partly overshadowed by the canopy of state. The
princess Anne woiUd not seat herself under it, untU it was
removed to a correct distance from the state-chafr of the
queen her sister,'
Queen Mary was neither so much engrossed by her in
quisition into the state of the chattels her father had left
in his apartments, nor by the triumph of her accession
on that memorable Ash- Wednesday, as to leave neglected
a delicate stroke of diplomacy, whereby she trusted to
sound the real intentions of archbishop Sancroft. The
conduct of the primate was inscrutable to her consort and
his courtiers. No character is so inexplicable to double
dealers as the single-hearted; no mystery so deep to the
utterers of falsehood as the simplicity of truth. When
archbishop Sancroft resisted the measures of James IL,
as dangerous to the church of England, and tending to
bring her back to the corruptions of Rome, no one of the
Orange faction believed for a moment in his sincerity.
They took the conscientious and self-denying Christian
for a political agitator, — the raiser of a faction-howl, like
Titus Gates. In their distrust of all that was good and
true, they deemed that the primate of the church of
England had some secret interest to carry, which had
not been fathomed by WUUam of Orange, on account of
his want of famUiarity with the technicalities of Enghsh
ecclesiastical affairs; they supposed that the primate and
the queen would perfectly understand each other. The
queen had the same idea, and accordingly despatched two
of her chaplains, one of whom was Dr. Stanley, to Lam
beth, on the afternoon of the important proclamation-day, to
crave for her archbishop Sancroft's blessing,' The clerical
messengers had, however, other motives besides this osten
sible one ; they were to attend service at the archbishop's
' MSS, of Anstis, Gai-tcr king-at-arms.

MAEY II. 199
¦private chapel, observe whether king James and his son were
prayed for, and bring the report to the new queen,'
WhUe her majesty waited for this important benedic
tion, she once more took possession of the home of her
chUdhood, St. James's-palace, where she meant to tarry
tUl her coronation, which circumstance a brUliant con
temporary has thus illustrated in his description of that
palace : — " There through the dusk-red towers, amidst his ring
Of "V"ans and Mynheers, rode the Dutehman king ;
And there did England's Goneril thriU to hear.
The shouts that triumphed o'er her crownless Lear."^
The archbishop's chaplain, Wharton, went to his vener
able master for directions as to "what royal personages
he was to pray for in the ser-rice for Ash- Wednesday
afternoon." — " I have no new directions to give you," re
pUed the archbishop. Wharton, who had been brought
up in the church of England, had left it for the Roman-
cathoUc creed, and had turned again, determined to take
the oath to WiUiam and Mary. He therefore affected to
consider this injunction as a permission to use his own dis
cretion, and prayed for the newly-elected sovereigns. The
archbishop sent for him, in great displeasure, after service,
and told him, "that henceforth he must desist from this
innovation, or leave off officiating in his chapel." The ex
pression of the archbishop in reproof of those who prayed
for WilUam and Mary was, "that they would requfre to
have the absolution repeated at the end of the service,
as weU as at the beginning." The archbishop then ad
mitted the messengers sent at the request of the queen
for his blessing. "TeU your princess," answered the un
compromising primate, "first to ask her father's blessing;
without that, mine would be useless.'" The poUtical ruse
of requiring Sancroft's benediction, is iUustrative of Mary's
' Life of Archbishop Sancroft, by Dr. D'Oyley, voL i. p. 434. "Wbarton has
Ukewise related these events in his curious Latin diary.
^ New Timon, part i. p. 3.
" Two contemporaries, who certainly never saw each other's historical remi
niscences, rekte this remarkable incident, but without marking the day when it

200 MAEY II.
assumption of godliness; and the response, of archbishop
Sancroft's unswerving integrity in testing all such assump
tions by the actions of the professor, whether princess or
peasant. As early as the second day of her reign, queen Mary
manifested inimical feeling towards her uncles. Clarendon
had retired to his seat in the country, for repose after
his labours in the convention; he was ill and heart-sick
at the aspect of the times. He -wrote a letter, and gave
it to his wife to deUver in person to his royal niece. This
epistle, doubtless, contained an unwelcome disqmsition on
filial duty, for lady Clarendon, when she saw the demean
our of the queen, dared not deliver it. " My wife," -wrote
lord Clarendon, "had some discourse -vrith the new queen
on Thursday, (February 14th,) who told her she was much
dissatisfied with me, and asked angrily, 'What has he to
do -with the succession?' Lady Clarendon assured her 'that
he had acted for her and for her sister's true interest.'
She moreover asked her majesty, 'when she would please to
see her uncle ?' To which queen Mary repUed, ' I shaU not
appoint any time.' Lady Clarendon asked 'whether she
forbad his visits ?' The queen said, ' I have nothing to do
to forbid any body coming to the -withdra-wing-room, but I
shall not speak in private to him.' '" Her uncle La-wrence
was not more graciously treated. " My brother," continues
lord Clarendon, " told me that the new queen had refused to
see him ; but that he had kissed king WiUiam's hand, who
treated him ci-vUly. My brother advised my -wife not to
deliver to the queen the letter I had -written." Three days
afterwards, queen Mary refused to see the children of her
uncle Lawrence. They were little gfrls of seven or eight
years old, incapable of giring political offence.'
Dr. Bates had an audience of the king and queen on thefr
return to St. James's ; he was deputy from the EngUsh dis
senters, and came to express thefr expectation that a general
occurred. These authorities are the duke of Berwick, in his Memoirs, and lord
Dartmouth, in his Notes : the fact is therefore indisputable.
' Clarendon Diary, vol, u, pp. 263, 264, » Ibid.

MARY II. 201
union of principles and church-property should forthwith
take place between the dissenters and the church of Eng
land. The reply of the queen was, " I will use all endea
vours for promoting any union necessary for edifying the
church. I desire your prayers.'" The new queen showed
her zeal for church reform, by expelUng from her chapel at
St, James's "several fiddlers," who chiefly sustained the
sacred music therein. Her majesty's religious deportment
at church gave general satisfaction, but the behaviour of her
spouse scandalized all who saw him at church, where it was
his pleasure to wear his hat. If ever he happened to be
uncovered during the solemn recital of the liturgy, he in
variably assumed his hat dfrectly the sermon began. His
partisans excused this conduct, by observing that such was
the custom among the Dutch dissenters. They likewise
pleaded that the Jews did the same;' but members of the
church of England did not like the king's frreverent de
meanour a whit the better on account of the examples he
followed. The queen's suppression of " fiddling" was univer
sally approved, but they could not away -with the hat of her
Dutch partner.
King William, being thoroughly impatient of London air,
and of aU the pomps and ceremonies connected with his
accession, hurried the queen away with him to Hampton-
Court. "He was apt to be very peevish," says Burnet,
"and to conceal his fretfulness, put him in a necessity of
being very much in his closet. He had promised his friends
to set about being more visible, open, and communicative.
The nation had been so much used to this in the two former
reigns, that many persuaded him to be more accessible. He
said ' that his Ul health made it impossible.' He only came
to to-wn on council days, so that the face of a court was now
quite broke. This gave an early and general disgust. The
gaiety of court disappeared, and though the queen set herself
to make up what was wanting in the king by a great vivacity,
yet, wlien it appeared that she meddled Uttle in business, few
' White Kennet's History of England.
' Tindal's Continuation, p. 24, vol. i.

S02 MAEY II.
found thefr account in making their court to her. Though
she gave great content to aU that came to her, yet very
few came." It was the custom for presentations to be made
to the queen after dirine service. Lord Clarendon writes,
" In the evening, March 3rd, 1689, my brother La-vrrence
told me that he had been to Hampton-Court, where king
WilUam had, at last, presented him to the queen ; but it was
in the crowd, as she came from church. He kissed her hand,
and that was all.'"
The veteran diplomatist, Danby, was extremely sedulous in
his visits to Lambeth, hoping to induce archbishop Sancroft
to crown the new sovereigns. The archbishop refused, and, as
well as lord Clarendon, persisted that he could not take any
new oath of allegiance. Four of the bishops who had been
sent to the Tower by king James IL, -with two others of
their episcopal brethren,' and several hundreds of the lower
English clergy, — among whom may be reckoned the revered
names of Beveridge, Nelson, Stanhope, and Sherlock, — fol
lowed the example of thefr primate, and forsook brings and
property rather than violate their consciences.^ By the
great body of the people they were infinitely reverenced,
but from the triumphant party they obtained the rather ill-
sounding designation of nonjurors, or non-swearers. Queen
Mary gave sir Roger I'Estrange, a literary partisan of her
father, the cognomen of Lying Strange Roger. Her majesty
deemed it was an anagram of his name.
Her late chaplain. Dr. Ken, bishop of Bath and Wells,
expressed himself indignantly regarding her personal de
meanour : he refused to quit his bishopric, or take the oaths
to her. Queen Mary sarcastically observed, "Bishop Ken
is desirous of martyrdom in the nonjuring cause, but I shall
disappoint him." There was great political -wisdom in this
' Clarendon Diary, vol. ii. p. 267.
' Archbishop Sancroft; Dr. Ken, bishop of Bath and WeUs; Dr. Francis
Turner, bishop of Ely; Dr. Lake, bishop of Chichester; Dr. White, bishop of
Peterborough ; and Dr. Lloyd, bishop of Norwich, were the nonjuring prelates
who refused to take oaths of aUegiance to WiUiam and Mary.
' Lloyd, bishop of St. Asaph, and Ti-elawney, bishop of Bristol, not only
fcUowed the revolutionary movement, but had been its agents.

MAEY IL 203
observation, yet there are few persons who would not have
felt grieved at standing low in the estimation of a man,
whose moral worth ranked so high as that of Ken. An
early opportunity occurred for the queen to reward the revo
lutionary serrices of Burnet, by his promotion to the valu
able see of Salisbury. Her majesty exercised her functions
as the "dual head" of the church, by a personal exhortation
to the following effect : — " That she hoped that I [Burnet]
would set a pattern to others, and would put in practice
those notions -with which I had taken the Uberty sometimes
to entertain her," adding a careful proriso regarding Mrs.
Burnet's habiUments. " She recommended to me," he
writes, " the making my -wife an example to the clergymen's
wives, both in the simplicity and plainness of her clothes,
and in the humUity of her deportment.'" The "notions"
commended by her majesty were not much to the taste of
the English people. Burnet's inaugural pastoral letter was
condemned by parliament to be burnt by the common hang
man, and was actuaUy thus executed, the national pride
being aroused by a "notion" as untrue as it was insolent,
the new bishop baring declared that William and Mary
exercised thefr regal power by right of conquest, — a distaste
ful clause to the victors of Solebay. The execution of Dr.
Burnet's sermon was not the only case of the kind in this
reign. The lords sentenced a book published by Bentley
to be burnt by the common hangman in Old Palace-yard,
entitled, "King WiUiam and Queen Mary Conquerors.'"
Notwithstanding the settlement of the EngUsh cro"wn in
the names of both William and Mary, a glance at the lord
chamberlain's books wUl prove that the queen (some days
after her recognition at the Banqueting-house) was admitted
to her own apartments at Whitehall by the power of her
husband's name alone. The king's lord chamberlain, lord
Dorset, signed a document, dated February 19, 1688-9, in
the fijst year of his majesty king WiUiam's reign, addressed
to WiUiam Bucke, blacksmith, authorizing him to make
' MS. of Bumet, Harleian MSS.
' MS. Journal of the House of Lords, 1693.

204 MAliY IT.
new keys for the queen's apartments at Whitehall-palace,
and to deUver the said new keys to her majesty's lord cham
berlain, lord WUtshfre.' Mary was not admitted to her royal
suite at the state-palace untU February 29, when the king's
lord chamberlain gave her access to a certain number of
apartments in WhitehaU, excepting those which the king's
majesty had aUotted other-wise, as marked by him in the
margin.' Thus the queen's sovereign rights did not even
give her free possession of her own apartments, for a portion
of them had by her husband been arbitrarily awarded to
some other person. It is not difficult to surmise for whom
these apartments were destined by WiUiam. Lord WUt-
shfre's^ warrant as lord chamberlain to the queen, was not
made out untU the 12th of the ensuing month.
The coronation of the joint sovereigns next occupied the
thoughts of every one at thefr court. The former regalia -with
which the queens-consort were inaugurated was not deemed
sufficiently symboUcal of the sovereign power shared by
Mary IL, and a second globe, a sceptie, and a sword of state
were made for her.* An alteration of far greater import was
effected in the coronation ceremony. The oath was altered
decidedly to a Protestant tendency, and the sovereigns of
England were no longer requfred to make thefr oath and prac
tice diametricaUy opposite. The coronation morning (April
11th) brought many cares to the triumphant sovereigns. Just
as thefr robing was completed, and they were about to set off
for Westminster-haU, news arrived of the successful landing
of James II. at Kinsale, in Ireland, and that he had taken
peaceable possession of the whole island, -with the exception
of Londonderry and a few other to-wns. At the same mo
ment lord Nottingham deUvered to queen Mary the first
' Lord-chamberlain's books. 2 "Which does not appear.
' Although his name appears in the pages of Lamberty as weU as in lord
chamberlain's warrants, no account can be found of the lord WUtshire of 1688
in any EngUsh history : he had soon to give way to lord Nottingham as the
queen's lord chamberlain.
* Regal Records, by J. Planche, esq., Menin, and above all, the abstract of
the coronation-service forwarded to the princess Sophia at Hanover, just after
the coronation of James II., shows the coronation-oath before the alteration
was made. King's MSS. Brit. Museum.

MARY II. 205
letter her father had written to her since her accession. It
was an awful one, and the time of its reception was awful.
King James wrote to his daughter, " That hitherto he had
made all fatherly excuses ,for what had been done, and had
whoUy attributed her part in the revolution to obedience to
her husband ; but the act of being crowned was in her own
power, and if she were crowned whUe he and the prince of
Wales were living, the curses of an outraged father would
Ught upon her, as weU as of that God who has commanded
duty to parents." If queen Mary were not confounded by
this letter, king William certainly was. Lord Nottingham,
who recorded the scene as an eye-witness, declares " that king
William forthwith thought fit to enter into a rindication of
himself from having by harsh authority enforced the course
of conduct which had brought on his wife her father's male
diction ;" and he took the opportunity of declaring, " that
he had done nothing but by her advice, and with her appro
bation." ' It was on this memorable occasion that, frritated
by the ill news of her father's formidable position, the queen
recriminated, " that if her father regained his authority,
her husband might thank himself, for letting him go as he
did.""^ These words were reported to James IL, who from
that hour believed, to use his own words, " that his daughter
wished some cruelty or other to be perpetrated against
him." 3
The alarming news of the arrival of her father in Ireland
was communicated to the princess Anne likewise, while she
was dressing for the coronation. The poUtical prospects of
the Orange party seemed gloomy, and the ladies at the toUet
of the princess Anne, who had jeered and mocked at the
birth of the disinherited prince, were now sUent, and medi
tated how they should make their peace if king James were
restored, Mrs, Dawson was present, who had belonged to
the household of Anne Hyde, duchess of York, and of
queen Mary Beatrice : she had been present at the birth of
the ejtiled prince of Wales, The princess Anne, in the midst
' MSS. of lord Nottingham, printed in Dalrymple's Appendix. ' Ibid.
3 Memoirs of James IL, edited by Stanier Clark, vol. U. p. 329.

206 MARY II.
of the apprehensions of the moment, asked Mrs. Dawson
" whether she beUeved the prince of Wales was her brother
or not?" — " He is, madam, as surely your brother, the son
of the king, [James,] and of his queen, as you are the
daughter of the late duchess of York ; and I speak what I
know, for I was the first person who received ye both in my
arms." ' It wUl be remembered that, in the odious corres
pondence which took place between the princesses on this
subject, it was mentioned that Mrs. Dawson had preriouslv
given the same solemn testimony to the princess Anne. She
had, moreover, added technical eridence,' which must have
brought conriction to any woman who was not predisposed
to the falsehood, and desfrous of beUering the worst. Such
conversations as these, occurring as they did at the actual
robing for the coronation of Mary and her spouse, resemble
more the passionate dialogue of tragedy, where the identity
of some princely claimant is discussed, than the dull routine
of ceremonial in times closely approximating to our own.
And then, as if to bring this drama of real life to a cUmax,
the old exiled king, in his memoirs, after relating the horrid
observation of his once-beloved Mary, bursts into the foUow
ing agonizing exclamations : " When he heard this, he per
ceived that his own chUdren had lost aU bowels, not only of
filial affection, but of common compassion, and were as ready
as the Je-wish tribe of old to raise the cry, ' Away -with him
from the face of the earth!' It was the more grievous
because the hand which gave the blow was most dear to him.
Yet Proridence gave her some share of disquiet too ; for this
news, coming just at thefr coronation, put a damp on those
joys, which had left no room in her heart for the remem
brance of a fond and loving father. Like another TulUa,
under the show of sacrificing all to her country's liberty, she
truly sacrificed her honour, her duty, and even reUgion, to
drive out a peaceful T\dUus, and set up another Tarquin m
his place.'" ' Memoirs of James IL, p. 329.
2 Correspondence of the princess Anne and princess of Orange, Dalrvmnle's
Appendix. ° ' ^ '^
' Memoirs of James IL, vol. ii. pp. 328, 329.

MARY II. 2{)7
The mere ceremonial of the coronation of Mary II. and
WiUiam III. sinks into flat and vapid verbiage, after its
introductory scenes of stormy passion. Who, after the awful
malediction and the agonizing bewaUment, where the tender- ,
ness of the parent is stUl apparent, can pause to measure the
length of trains? or value the weight of gold or the lustre
of jewels? The strange scene of recrimination between the
king and queen of the revolution, must have taken place
nearly at their entering on the business of the day. It ex
plains what Lamberty mysteriously affirms, "that all was
ready for the coronation by eleven o'clock," but such were
the distractions of that eventful day, "that the ceremony
did not commence tiU half-past one." The king went from
the palace of WhitehaU nearly an hour before the queen,
descended the pri"vy-stairs, where his royal barge waited,
entered it with his suite, and was rowed to Westminster-
palace. He arrived at the Parliament water-stairs, passed
up by Old Palace-yard at ten o'clock, and went dfrect to the
'prince's chamber,' where he reposed himself, and was in
vested "with his surcoat and parliamentary robes.
The queen, who received the news of her father's landing
in Ireland just after the completion of her toUet, retfred
from the foregoing discussion, to perform the private de
votions considered suitable for her coronation-morning.
When her majesty left Whitehall, which was an hour subse
quently to the king, she was attfred in her parUamentary
robes, furred with ermine ; on her head she wore a cfrclet of
gold richly adorned with precious stones. In this array, she
entered her chafr, and was carried from WhitehaU-palace,
through the Pri"vy-garden,' thence into the Channel or Can
non-row, and so across New Palace-yard, up Westminster-
haU into the large state-room called ' the court of wards,'
where she rested herself whUe the proceeding was set in
order in the haU,'" The place of the princess Anne is not
' " "When WhitehaU existed," says Menin, " a way was opened through Privy-
gardens to New Palace-yard for the chairs, not only of the queen, but the
nobUity, by special order of the lord chamberlain."
' Menin's English Coronations, (WiUiam and Mary,) pp. 6-16. Lamberty.

208 MARY IL
noted in any account of the procession ; in fact, her situation
rendered it imprudent for her to take any part, excepting
that of a spectator. Her husband, prince George of Den
mark, went in the robes of an English peer as duke of Cum
berland, which title his brother-in-law, king William, had
recently bestowed on him. The prince walked next to the
archbishop of York, and took precedence of the nobUity.'
The peers were caUed over by the heralds in the house of
lords, and the peeresses in the Painted-chamber, " where,"
adds the herald, as if it were an unusual custom, "thefr
majesties were graciously pleased to be present," — no doubt
for the purpose of speciaUy noting the absentees, "for,"
observes Lamberty, " the number of peers and peeresses at
the coronation of WUUam and Mary was remarkably smaU,
and not, by a great number, equaUing the procession in the
preceding coronation." The peers and peeresses being drawn
up in order, were conducted four abreast from the court of
requests, down the great stone stafrcase, into Westminster-
haU, and thefr majesties foUowed them by the same way:
" they took their places in Westminster-haU, and thefr seats
on the throne, then placed above the table."
The coronation medal iUustrated the sudden dethroning of
the late king. Thereon, Phaeton was represented as stricken
from his car. Neither the subject, nor the execution, nor the
motto, was greatly reUshed by Evelyn ; stiU less was that of
another medal, representing the British oak shattered, whUe
a flourishing orange-tree grew by the stem, "vrith the motto,
" Instead of acorns, golden oranges." — " Much of the splen
dour of the ceremony," continues Evelyn, " was abated by
the absence of divers who should have contributed to it.
There were but five bishops and four judges ; no more had
taken the oaths. Several noblemen and great ladies were
absent," In all probabUity, the alarming news that James
II, was then reigning in the green island had caused the
absence of many time-servers. The chief pecuUarity in the
ceremony was that of the double regal household, and the
' Menin's EngUsh Coronations, (WilUam and Mary,) pp. 6-16. Lamberty.

MARY II. 209
addition of those who carried the regnant-queen's orb, regal
sceptre, and state sword.
At the recognition, both the king and queen appeared on
the platform, and the demand was made, "Whether the
people would accept WUliam and Mary for their king and
queen?" The answer was, as usual, by acclamation. "The
king was presented by the bishop of London, although,"
adds Lamberty, "the archbishop of York was actually in
the abbey; the queen by the bishop of St. Asaph. The
bishop of Rochester, as dean of the church, gave the king
instructions how he was to conduct himself. Notwithstand
ing these instructions, an odd blunder occurred: their ma
jesties were kneeling by the rail of the altar at the time
when thefr first offering was to be made, consisting of twenty
guineas -wrapped in a piece of rich sUk; the envelope was
there, but, alas ! the gold was absent. The grand-chamber
lain looked aghast at the lord treasurer, the lord treasurer
returned the glance ; then each demanded of the other the
guineas for the offering,— none were forthcoming. The gold
bason was handed to the king, the king was penniless; to
the queen, her majesty had no money; the bason remained
void. A long pause ensued, which every one began to deem
excessively ridiculous," when lord Danby, who had had
assuredly enough of the piibUc money, drew out his purse,
and counted out twenty guineas for the king : the bason was
therefore not sent empty away.
The holy Bible was presented for king WiUiam and queen
Mary to kiss. The Bible thus presented is now at the
Hague : in the title-page are . these words, written in the
hand of the queen : " This book was given the king and I at
our crownation. Marie, R.'" Dr. Burnet, the new bishop of
' In Maoaulay's England, vol. i. p. 394, the sentence is quoted as an instance
of queen Mary's ignorance and want of education ; yet the only variation from
correct orthography occurs in the word " crownation," — the queen's mode of
spelling which word is now obsolete, but not Uliterate. Milton, Dryden, and
Addison, if their earlier editions are examined, will be found guilty of the same
ignorance. If Mr. Maca,ulay had condescended to read queen Mary's series of
liistorieal letters, he would have found many passages in which her language
expresses her ideas, not only with elegant simplicity, bnt with power and
pathos. The historian had, perhaps, some confused notion of the ignorance of
VOL, VII. V

21Q MARY II.
SaUsbury, then presented himself in the pulpit, and preached
his sermon, which lasted just half an hour, and thefr majes
ties were observed to be very attentive to it. It was consi
dered to be an exceUent one, and so it was — for the purpose,
being an invective on the queen's father, by name, from be
ginning to end,' The bishop of London tendered the coroj
nation-oath, according to the recent alterations, " to maintain
the Protestant religion as estabUshed by law." The king
and queen replied simultaneously to each proposition, blend
ing thefr voices in assent, and each holding up the right
hand : they Uke-wise kissed the book together. The unction
was not simultaneous : the bishop of London first poured
the oU on the head of WilUam, and then went to the queen
and performed the same ceremony.'
King WiUiam appropriated all that was possible of the
ceremonials symboUcal of sovereign power whoUy to him
self. Queen Mary was neither girt with the sword, nor
assumed the spurs or armUla, Uke the two queens-regnant,
her predecessors. When the sword was offered at the altar,
Mary and her regal partner carried it between them, when
the difference of thefr stature must have had an odd effect;
and the action itself, a diminutive man and a very taU, fully
formed woman carrying an enormous sword between them,
appeared rather absurd. The ancient coronation-ring by
which England had been wedded to her royal admual,
James IL, stiU encircled his finger, for he mentions his
struggle to preserve it in the scene of his direst distress,
when plundered by the rabble at Feversham. As he was
successful, it is certain that this ancient gem was never worn
by either Mary or her spouse. There exist, in fact, accounts
of charges made by the court-jeweUer at this time for two
new coronation-rings. The archbishop of Canterbury hav
ing positively refused to crown either William or Mary, his
office was performed by the former tutor of the queen,
her sister queen Anne, whose mangled tenses, misspeUed and misappUed adverbs
and prepositions, may truly deserve censure.
' Menin's EngUsh Coronations, (William and Mary,) p. 64. Lamberty.
2 Lamberty's History, vol. ii. p. 247. He was present, being one of Ben-
tinck's secretaries.

MARY IL 211
Compton bishop of London. The usual supporters, the
bishops of Durham and of Bath and Wells, were likewise
absent : one was infirm, the other said " he would not
come." Altogether, it was a coronation completely out of
sorts. Something new and extraordinary happened in every
part of it, and ever and anon fresh tidings respecting the
progress of James II, in Ireland were discussed between
the parties most concerned. Queen Mary looked hot and
flushed, and being commiserated by her sister, made that
weU-known rejoinder, "A crown, sister, is not so heavy
as it appears." '
The additional length of the serrice, o^wing to the part
nership regality and the interruptions occasioned by the
absence of the cash for the offering, caused such delay, that
the crown was not set on the head of the queen untU four
o'clock.' The coronation-banquet was in Westminster-haU.
The story goes, that the challenge, when given, was ac
cepted; for when Dymoke flung down the glove, an old
woman upon crutches hobbled out of the crowd, picked it
up, and retreated -vrith singular agility, leaving a lady's glove
in its place, in which was an answer to the challenge, time
and place being appointed in Hyde-park. It is certain that
some incident of an extraordinary kind connected -with the
usual challenge of the champion took place, for Lamberty
says, " When the time arrived for the entrance of the
champion, minute passed after minute. At last two hours
-wore away; the pause in the high ceremonial began to be
alarming, and promised to be stiU more awkward than that
in the morning. Sir Charles Dymoke at last made his
entrance in the dusk,, almost in the dark : he was the son
of James II.'s champion. He made his challenge in the
name of our sovereign lord and lady, William and Mary.
I heard the sound of his gauntlet when he flung it on the
ground, but as the light in Westminster-haU had utterly
failed, no person could distinguish what was done." The
circumstances of the challenge are thus proved by Lamberty
to have been favourable enough for the adventure pre-
Oldmixon's History of the Stuarts. '' Lamberty.
V 2

213 MARY IL
served by tradition. "The banquet," he says, "had not
been lighted up," and the long delay of the challenge of
the champion made it past eight o'clock before the king and
queen retired from Westminster-haU.
A stalwart champion, who, by his attitudes, seemed an
excellent swordsman, was observed to pace up and do-wn the
appointed spot in Hyde-park from two to four the next day.
The Jacobite Walk' in the park was probably the scene of
this bravado, and had the champion accepted the chaUenge,
a general engagement might have ensued. Dymoke, how
ever, did not appear to maintain his own defiance, and the
champion of James II. went his way unscathed for his
boldness,' This incident has been told as a gossip's tale
pertaining to every coronation in the last century which
took place while an heir of James II. existed. Sfr Walter
Scott has made use of it in his romance of Redgauntlet,
If it ever took place, it must have been at the coronation
of WiUiam III. and Mary II, The times were most un
settled; half the people considered them usurpers, and the
other half fully expected the return of James II,, which
perhaps encouraged the adventure.
Next day the house of commons in a full body walked
from Westminster to the Banqueting-house, where they
attended thefr majesties to congratulate them on their co
ronation, in a speech which we do not inflict on our readers
at length, but merely quote the concluding line, which
seems to allude to the altered coronation-oath, — " that
the lustre of their deeds might eclipse their predecessors,
so that the EngUsh should no longer date their laws and
liberties from Saint Edward the Confessor's days, but from
those of WiUiam and Mary," To this address the queen
did not reply. Her lord and master briefly answered, "that
by God's assistance they both hoped to render them shortly
a flourishing people," '
The sovereignty of Scotland was assumed by Mary and
tier consort, without a trace of coronation ceremonial. In
' That there was such a promenade, we learn by "Vernon's letter to the duke
of Slu-ewsbury, vol. i. p. 89. = Lord Dartmouth's Notes.
» White Kennet's History of England.

MAEY IL 213
truth, the commissioners could not get at the Scottish
regaUa, as it was safe in Edinburgh-castle, held out by the
duke of Gordon for James II. The earl of Argyle, sir
James Montgomery, and sir John Dalrymple of Stair, were
the commissioners sent by post from the convention' of the
estates of Scotland to offer them the northern sovereignty,
assisted by a procession of those of the Scotch nobility in
London who could be induced to attend. Mary and WU
liam entered the Banqueting-house, Whitehall, in state.
A sword was carried before them by lord Cardross : they
seated themselves on a throne under a rich canopy. The
commissioners being introduced by sfr Charles Cottrell,
the earl of Argyle prefaced his presentation of the letter
from the estates "with a speech, affirming that the king and
queen had been caUed to the Scottish throne by the unani
mous votes of the senate. But in reality, Dundee and aU
the unequivocal friends of James IL had left the house of
convention after almost fighting a battle there, and had
flo-wn to arms before the vote was passed.
The Scottish coronation-oath was tendered to the king
and queen. Lord Argyle pronounced it distinctly, word by
word, and Mary as well as William repeated it after him,
holding up thefr right hands, according to the custom of
taking oaths in Scotland. In the course of the recital
occurred the words, " And we shall be careful to root out
aU heretics." Here king WUliam interrupted the earl of
Argyle, and said, " If this means any sort of persecution,
I wiU not take the oath." The commissioner replied, " It
was not meant in any such sense ; " and the voices of the
king and his consort again proceeded in unison. Before
the signature, the earl of Argyle explained to their majes
ties, that " obstinate heretics by the law of Scotland can
only be denounced and outlawed, and their moveable goods
confiscated," And this interpretation appearing to imply
" no persecution" in the eyes of WiUiam and his consort,
' The whole scene and documents are given from the official account of the
transaction, pubUshed in Edinburgh, May 24, 1689 ; re-edited by J, Malcolm,
181L

214 MARY IL
the ceremonial was completed, each signing the deed. The
oath of aUegiance to WilUam and Mary was remarkable for
its simplicity. It ran thus : " I do promise and swear, that
I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to thefr majesties
king William and queen Mary, So help me God." ' When
the coronation was over, the people expected to see the king
take the queen in grand state to the houses of parliament ;
strange to say, although elected by them to the regal diadem
of England, her majesty never attained the pririlege of
meeting her constituents assembled. The Gazette enume
rates king WiUiam's frequent risits to parUament, both before
and after the coronation of himself and Mary.' His custom
was to go privately in his barge, the passage from the water-
stairs to the house of lords being lined "with his Dutch
guards ; yet never, by any chance, is the queen named as
his companion in these short voyages from Whitehall-stafrs
to Parliament-stairs. The fact that WiUiam III. wore the
state-crown and robes in parliament almost every third day,
whenever he was in or near London, stands in odd contra
diction to his assumed preference of simplicity, and scorn of
royal magnificence. Perhaps he had satiated himself thus
early in his reign -with the coveted externals of majesty, and
found no permanent satisfaction in their use. His queen,
however, had no chance of coming to the same conclusion,
for she never was permitted to have any communication -with
her parUament excepting by means of deputations, which
carried up addresses to her; and her usual mode of receiring
them was, seated by her husband's side, in that fatal Ban-
queting-haU where the last tragic scene in the Ufe of her
hapless grandsire, Charles I., had been performed, and which
was Uterally stained with his blood. When it is remembered
how sadly and solemnly Mary had been accustomed from
early infancy to observe the anniversary of that martyrdom;
how she had been taught to raise her little hands in prayer ;
how she had seen her father and mother, in mourning garb
' ParUamentary Debates, vol. ii. p. 263.
' The Gazette was, even at that period, formally recognised as an official
government organ.

MAEY IL 215
and bitter sorrow, seclude themselves with all their children
and household, and pass the 30th of January in tears and
supplications to Heaven,' it seems passing strange that she
could shake off her early impressions so far as to endure
such receptions, especially as it has been shown that her
customary observance of that day of sad remembrances had
been rudely broken by her husband.'
The internal state of the Banqueting-room, before it was
consecrated in the reign of Anne as a chapel, is described by
a foreigner a few years preriously. The ItaUan secretary
of Cosmo III., grand-duke of Tuscany, thus -wrote of it:
"Above a door opposite to the throne is a statue in alto
relievo of Charles I., whose majestic mien saddens the
spectator by the remembrance of the tragedy which took
place in this very room. On the threshold of the window
there are still to be seen drops of blood, which fell when
that enormity was committed: they cannot be obUterated,
though efforts have been made to do so."*
A remarkable feature in the state-documents of William
and Mary, was the perpetual iteration of allusions to the
reign of thefr dear uncle, Charles II. This pecuUarity was
not lost on the literary Jacobites who lurked in court ; the
queen was accordingly thus greeted in one of thefr frequent
pasquinades : —
" Your royal uncle you are pleased to own.
But royal father, it should seem, you've none.
A dainty mushroom, without flesh or bone.
We dare not caU you, for it seems you are
Great Charles' niece, o' the royal character, —
Great James's daughter too, we thought you were.
That you a father had you have forgot.
Or would have people think that he was not ;
The very sound of royal James's name
As living king, adds to his daughter's shame.
The princess Mary would not have it known.
That she can sit upon king James's throne !"*
The solemn entry of the Dutch ambassadors, being Odyke,
Dyckvelt, and four others, to congratiUate the king and
' Diary of Henry earl of Clarendon.
• ' D'Avaux' Amhassades, as quoted in the preceding chapters.
" Travels of Cosmo III. in Engknd, 1669, p. 368.
¦• Selected abstract from sir Robert Strahge's MSS. See proclamations in
]Hacpherson's Stuart Papers,

216 MAEY II.
queen on their coronation, took place at the end of May.
On their landing at the Tower, the royal state-carriages
came for them, both those of the king and queen, attended
by sixteen pages and sixty running footmen in splendid
liveries. The Dutchmen were then brought to Cleveland-
house, St. James's, where they received messages of welcome,
from the king by lord CornwaUis, from the queen by sir
Edward ViUiers, her master of horse. Lord Combury
brought compliments from prince George, and the princess
Anne sent colonel Sands on the same errand.'
Dissension very soon ensued between the princess Anne
and her sister the queen, " partly arising," observes lady Marl
borough, " from the conriction of William III,, that the
princess and her husband, prince George of Denmark, had
been of more use than they were ever like to be again, and
partly from the different humours of the two sisters. Queen
Mary soon grew weary of any body who would, not talk a
great deal; and the princess Anne was so silent, that she
rarely spoke excepting to ask a question." WhUst giring
the world these characteristics of the royal sisters, the writer
indulges in an enthusiastic flow of self-praise, because she,
" by earnest representations, kept her mistress from quarrel-
Ung with the new queen. It was impossible for any body to
labour more than I did to keep the two sisters in perfect uni
son and friendship, thinking it best for them not to quarrel
when their true interest and safety were jointly concerned to
support the revolution," There were Ukewise other interests
at stake; for, if we may believe the uncle of the queen and
princess, strong bribes had been promised to this person and
her husband,' for the serrice of inducing the princess Anne
to give precedence to her brother-in-law in the reversionary
succession. Great rewards had been distributed at the coronation
among the promoters of the revolution, especiaUy those
who held situations in the households of either Mary or
' Gazette, May 27, 1689.
' Likewise, Sheffield duke of Buckingliam's Narrative of the Eevolution, vol,
n. p. 87. This accompUshed noble deserves beUef, because, Uke Clarendon, he
was in that revolution unstained by bribes, self-interest, or treachery.

MAEY II. 217
Anne. Lord ChurchiU received the title of earl of Marl
borough, and a rich income arising from court places; and
from this time his wife, whose domination over the mind
of the princess Anne rendered her the ruler of her for
tunes and the leading spirit of her history, -wiU be known
by the name of lady Marlborough. But, to the infinite
consternation of the princess Anne, she discovered that,
whatsoever golden harvests other agents of the revolution
had reaped, she herself, so far from baring bettered her
condition, was likely to be deprived of the certain and
liberal income which had been settled on her by her in
dulgent sfre. It had been whispered to her that king
WiUiam, when examining the treasury-lists, had said to
lord Godolphin, "that he was astonished to think how it
was possible for the princess Anne to spend her revenue
of thirty thousand pounds per annum?"' As Anne had
been malcontent with her father for not adding ten thou
sand pounds to this allowance, it may be supposed that
the observation of her brother-in-law created some alarm
in her mind.
It had been discussed in the royal cfrcle, that it was
quite a novelty for any junior branch of the royal family
to receive an independent revenue. These were ominous
hints for the princess Anne, who had actually yielded her
place in the succession to her brother-in-law on the promise
of a large addition to her revenue. So far from that promise
being realized, king WiUiam seemed to consider that a sepa
rate table ought not to be aUowed to any cadet branches
of royalty. Certainly the king's conduct at his own table
was not of that courtly polish which would render a
domestication at his board during life a very pleasant anti
cipation. "I could," says lady Marlborough, who speaks
as an eye-witness, " fill many sheets with the brutalities
that were done to the princess in this reign. WUliam III.
was, indeed, so iU-natured, and so little polished by edu
cation, that neither in great things nor in small had he
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 32. The amount was reaUy
32,000?. allowed by James IL, as a foregoing document has shown.

218 MAEY IL
the manners of a gentleman, I give an instance of his
worse than vulgar behariour at his own table, when the
princess dined with him. It was the beginning of his
reign, and some weeks before the princess was put to bed
of the duke of Gloucester. There happened to be just
before her a plate of green peas, the first that had been
seen that year. The king, -without offering the princess the
least share of them, drew the plate before him, and devoured
them aU. Whether he offered any to the queen, I cannot
say, but he might have done that safely enough, for he knew
she durst not touch one. The princess Anne confessed,
when she came home, that she had so much mind for the
peas that she was afraid to look at them, and yet could
hardly keep her eyes off them," ' The situation of the
princess Anne rendered disappointment in such crarings
somewhat dangerous.
Assuredly hospitality was not among the royal -vfrtues on
the throne : when the king dined at St. James's-palace, no
one was permitted to eat -with him but the marshal Schom
berg, the general of the foreign troops, and some Dutch
officers. If any English noblemen came in, according to
their national custom during the royal dinner, they stood
behind WiUiam's chair, and never a word did the monarch
speak to them; nor were they ever inrited to sit do-wn to
eat, a courtesy common in such cases. So there did the
haughty EngUsh stand, humbled and neglected -witnesses
of the meal of the Dutchmen, who eridently deemed them
selves their conquerors. The earl of Marlborough had, as an
aide-de-camp, a young noble cadet named DiUon, who had
foi'med a great intimacy "with Arnold van Keppel, the hand
some page and favourite of the Dutch king. These boys
were usually present at the royal dinners. Dillon observed
to Keppel, "that he had been present at several of them
before he heard the king utter one word to any body ;" and
asked, " Does your master ever speak ?" — " Oh, yes," re
plied the young favourite; "he talks fast enough at night
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 115; likewise Echard, in his
History of England,

MAEY II. 219
over his bottle, when he has none about him but his Dutch
friends." ' His bottle was not one that could be produced
before the proud English magnates, who were too apt to
commit excess with champagne or burgundy, but they
scorned HoUands-gin. Lady Marlborough sent for young
DiUon, and questioned him on what he saw and heard at
the king's table. The boy told the truth, which was in all
probabiUty what her spouse did not; he said, "that he
never saw any man treated -with such neglect and con
tempt as lord Marlborough." — " It is just what he de
serves," exclaimed the gracious helpmate, who had cer
tainly led him into this awkward situation ; " he should have
considered how much better he was off some months ago."
This speech marks the earliest period that can be traced of
enmity expressed by the favourite of the princess Anne
towards the sovereign of the revolution. The weak intel
lect of the princess followed the lead of her ruler as a
matter of course. From the same source, — the gossiping
of the two pages, Keppel and DiUon, king WUliam was
reported to have said, " that lord Marlborough had the
best talents for war of any one in England; but he was a
rile man, and though he had himself profited by his trea
sons, he abhorred the traitor." ' William really acted
according to this idea, for he appointed Marlborough to
the command of the English troops sent to Holland to
fiU the place of Dutch forces kept to awe the EngUsh,
thus remoring him, for some months, from communication
-with the factions fermenting at court.
Other causes of discord had arisen between the queen and
her sister. They were, it is true, of an undignified nature,
and resembled more the petty bickerings of lodgers in hum
ble dwellings, than aspirants for royal dignity in palaces.
When the changes took place at the revolution, Anne was,
-with her favourite, very rigilant to secure all that could
accrue for their personal convenience. They had fixed thefr
desires on those splendid apartments at WhitehaU which had
' Carte Papers, printed by Macpherson. Stuart Papers, vol. i. p. 282.
" Ibid.

^20 MAEY II.
been built, rebuilt, and fitted up several times by Charles II.
to indulge the luxury of the duchess of Portsmouth. This
grant king William had promised Anne before the arrival
of her sister. When queen Mary was settled at WhitehaU,
the earl of Devonshfre, who had a great taste for balls, made
interest with her majesty to be put in possession of them,
declaring " that these apartments were the best in England
for dancing." The princess averred, " that she desired these
apartments because of their easy access and ricinity to those
of the queen," and that " she was ready to give up the Cock
pit in exchange for them." Unfortunately, queen Mary
happened to say, " she would consult the earl of Devonshfre
on the subject," which gave her sister high displeasure.
The princess sullenly observed, " whichever way he decided,
she would not take the earl of Devonshfre's leavings." ' It
appears that king William interposed his authority that the
princess Anne might have the benefit of his promise, and she
remained in fuU possession of the Cockpit, and of these
coveted apartments as weU. The next acquisition desired
by the princess Anne was the palace of Richmond. She
said "that she loved it in her infancy, and the air agreed
with her." Richmond had been, since the time of Henry
VIL, the seat of the hefr to the crown, a fact which did not
lessen its charms in the eyes of the princess Anne. But
lady Villiers, the deceased governess of the princess, had
had a lease of the palace, and madame Puissars, one of her
daughters, having obtained the reversion, refused to yield
it to the heiress of the throne. The mistress of William
III., EUzabeth ViUiers, and the arrogant favourite of the
princess Anne, declared fierce war against each other in the
course of the controversy; but the matter ended by the
triumph of the VUUers' aUiance,' From that hour the
hostility became permanent in the minds of the royal sis
ters, although for some time thefr mutual heart-burnings
rested smouldering under the semblance of kindness.
In June 1689, several skfrmishes had taken place between
the WilUamite army in Ireland and the troops of James II,
• Conduct of tho Duchess of Marlborough, ' Ibid.

MAEY II. 221
Blood had flowed; soldiers, in the name of the queen and
husband, were constantly arrayed against the Ufe of -her
father, and fresh reports were every day raised that king
James was kiUed, taken, or had died of fatigue or grief.
Just as these agitating rumours were the most rife in
London, king WUliam came for a few days to hold pri-vy
councUs at St. James's-palace, and his queen took that oppor
tunity of recreating herself -with seeing a play. There was
but one play which had been forbidden to be acted by
James IL, and this his daughter particularly desired to see
performed ; it was the Spanish Friar, by Dryden, interdicted
because its licentious comic scenes held up one of the Roman
church to ridicule. It deserved banishment altogether for
its sins against general decorum. The queen had probably
never read the drama; for, instead of finding, as she hoped,
passages which woiUd tell severely against her father, she
found that the tragic part of the plot seemed as if it had
been -written for her own especial castigation. Perhaps the
great enmity she ever manifested against Dryden arose from
some vague idea that he had purposely caused the vexation
she endured that night, " The only time," wrote her friend
Nottingham,' " that her majesty gave herself the diversion
of a play, has furnished the town with discourse for a month.
Some unlucky expressions put her in disorder, and forced
her to hold up her fan, often look behind her, and call for
her palatine, [pelerine,] hood, or any thing she could con
trive to speak of to her women. It so happened that every
speech in that play seemed to come home to her, as there
was a strong report about to-wn that her father James II. was
dead in Ireland; and whenever any thing applicable was said,
every one in the pit turned their heads over thefr shoulders,
and dfrected thefr looks most pointedly at her." Nor could
this be wondered at ; for a daughter sitting to see a play
acted which was too free for the morals of that age, at the
' Autograph letter, written by Daniel Finch, lord Nottingham, dated June
1689, given by Dr. Percy to sir John Dalrymple; see bis Appendix, p. 78. It is
likewise printed by Dr. Birch. Nottingham was at that time the queen's confi
dential adviser, and soon afterwards her lord chamberlain. He had not at this
pji-iod made up his mmd whether the revolutionai-y changes would be permanent.

222 MAEY II.
moment when reports were prevalent that her own father
was. dead, was indeed a sight to be gazed upon -with con
sternation. The EngUsh pubUc, notwithstanding all that partisans may
do or say, always feel rightly in such cases, and they took
care that the queen should be conscious of that feeling.
" Twenty things were said, which were wrested by the audi
ence to her confusion. When it was uttered on the stage,
' 'Tis observed at court who weeps, and who wears black,
for good king Sancho's death,' the words were made to come
home to her. Again, when the queen of Arragon is going
in procession, it is said, ' She usurps the throne, keeps the
old king in prison, and at the same time is praying for a
blessing on her army.' Another speech occurred, 'Can I
seem pleased to see my royal master murdered, his cro-wn
usurped, a distaff on his throne? What right has this
queen but lawless force?' The observations then made fur
nished the town -with talk tUl something else happened,
which gave as much occasion of discourse." ' The historical
scene above narrated, which really may be cited as part of a
drama performed by the spectators of a comedy, receives no
Uttle corroboration by a manuscript entry at the lord cham
berlain's office, noting that, just at this period, Mrs. Betterton
received a donation for performing in the Spanish Friar by
the queen's command. Another play was ordered by the
queen, to which she came not. Most Ukely king WUliam
himself had commanded the queen's absence, since she had
so far forgotten her political position as to order the cavalier
comedy of The Committee, and he or his ministers foresaw
some mortifying manifestation of popular feeUng during its
representation. In fact, such was the case, as recorded by
the pen of Lamberty, the secretary of his prime-minister,
Bentinck, This writer says, " that when the roundheads
tender the oath of the commonweath to the loyal colonels,
Blunt and Careless, those cavaliers reply, ' Why should we
take it, when the king -will bd restored in a few days ?' When
the passage occurred, the pit rose simultaneously, and gave
' Autogiaph letter, by Daniel Finch, lord Nottingham.

MAEY II. 223
three rounds of applause." The popular aUusion pointed at
the oath just tendered at the coronation of WiUiam and
Mary. The master of the revels, from the time of those memor
able performances, was a harassed and distressed man, his
duty leading lUm to weigh every word on the stage, and to
examine in aU possible lights the action, lest the perverse
public should draw therefrom any aUusion to the queen's
father in the plays permitted to be performed. Shakspeare
was viewed with peculiar suspicion, for the inquisition ex
tended not only to new plays, but to those stamped with
the admiration of several generations. King Lear was con
demned root and branch ; no one could wonder at that
cfrcumstance, but, alas ! the master of the revels fiew upon
Richard the Thfrd, when it was afterwards revived at a
great expense, and docked off unmercifully a whole act.
The players lamented piteously, and begged " that a few
speeches of Shakspeare might be restored to them, only to
make the remaining four acts intelligible." — " Not one,"
replied the director of the diversions of royalty. At last the
distressed manager ventured to ask the reason wherefore the
play of Richard the Thfrd was alarming to the court ? " Be
cause," repUed the great man, " the death of Henry VI.
will remind the people of king James II. , now living in
France," ' — a speech which proves that buUs are not Umited
to Irish eloquence.
The theatre at which queen Mary witnessed the represen
tation of the Spanish Friar, was, in all probability, that called
'the queen's theatre,' Dorset-gardens.' It was evident that
king WiUiam wished her to limit her theatrical diversions to
' Colley Gibber's Apology, p. 59. The master of the revels, according to
CoUey Cibber, is the inferior officer of the lord chamberlain.
' Dorset-garden theatre, as early as Feb. 1688-9, is called in the London
Gazette the Queen's Theatre. It was situated near Salisbury-square, Fleet-
street. The site once belonged to the see of Salisbury, from which it had been
reft as a gift to the Sackvilles, earls of Dorset, relatives to queen Elizabeth by
Anne Boleyn. The theatre itself is said to have been a conventual ball. Queen
M.iry witnessed new plays by Tom D'Urfey, 3692 and 1694, performed, as the
titie-page avers, at her theatre in Dorset-garden. After her death, the actors
transfciTcd their theatre to Drury-lane. — Cunnhigham's London.

224 MAEY II.
the plays performed at the palaces. Some historical Unes
were written about the same period, from which may be de
duced the nervous anxiety manifested by queen Mary and
her master of the revels concerning Shakspeare's plainly
expressed feeling regarding right and wrong.
" Oh, we have heard that impious sons before
EeheUed for crowns their royal parents wore ;
But of imnatiiral daughters rarely hear.
Save these of hapless James, and those of ancient Lear.
Yet worse than cruel, scornftd Goneril, thou ;
She took but what her monarch did aUow,
But thou, more impious, robbest thy father's brow !"'
After such an exhortation, few persons can wonder that the
magnificent tragedy of Lear was riewed by Mary's theati-ical
critic as a Jacobitical Ubel.
Lord Nottingham, in his news-letter descriptive of the
movements of his royal lady at this juncture, continues to
narrate, — " Her majesty, being disappointed of her second
play, amused herself with other diversions. She dined at
Mrs. Graden's, the famous woman in the haU,' that seUs'
fine ribbons and head-dresses. From thence she went to
Mrs. Ferguson's, to De Vett's, and other Indian houses, but
not to Mrs. Potter's, though in her way. Mrs. Potter said,
'that she might as weU have hoped for that honour as others,
considering that the whole design of bringing in queen Mary
and king WiUiam was hatched at her house ;' but it seems,
that since my lord Devonshfre has got Mrs. Potter to be
laundress, she has not had much countenance of the queen."
These tours through the curiosity-shops, then caUed
Indian houses, were rather more respectable than the next
freak queen Mary thought fit to indulge in. The queen
had heard that Mrs. Wise, a famous fortune-teUer, had
prophesied that king James II, should be restored, and
that the duke of Norfolk should lose his head. "The
last," adds lord Nottingham, in comment, "I suppose -wUl
be the natural consequence of the first." Her majesty
' MS. in possession of lady Strange. Few of the reUcs in this valuable
coUection of historical songs and poems are later than the year 1692.
" Either Westminster-hiiU or Exeter-Change, which were two bazaars at that
time.

MARY II. 225
went in person to the fortune-teller, to hear what , she had
to say regarding her future destiny, — probably, to know if
report had spoken truly, and whether she might reckon her
hapless sfre among the dead. Queen Mary took this dis
reputable step without obtaining the gratification of her
profane curiosity. The -witch- woman was a perverse Jacobite,
as may be supposed from the tenour of her prophecies, and
positively refused to read futurity for her majesty.' King
WiUiam was completely incensed at the queen's proceed
ings; his reprimand was not only severe, but pubUc.
Whether the risit to the fortune-teller ever came to his
ears is doubtful, but his wrath was particularly excited by
the dinner at Mrs. Graden's. In terms not to be repeated
here, (but which proved that his majesty, although a Dutch
man, was a proficient in the English vulgar tongue,) he
observed to the queen, that he heard "she had dined at
a house of ill repute ;" and added, with some little humour,
that "the next time she went to such a place, he thought
it was only proper that he should be of the party." The
queen replied, in excuse, "that the late queen [Mary
Beatrice] had done the same." The king retorted, "whether
she meant to make her an example ?" — " More was said,"
concludes lord Nottingham, "than ever was heard before;
but it was borne Uke a good -wife, who leaves all to the
dfrection of the king, who amuses herself with walking six
or seven miles every day, with looking after her buildings,
making of fringe, and such like innocent things." The
queen's curiosity was by no means restrained by her hus
band's reproof, rude as it was, for she afterwards went to
risit a place of entertainment on the Thames called 'the
FoUy,' accompanied by some of her suite. According to
the description of a very coarse delineator of London, her
contemporary, this floating ark of low dissipation weU de
served its name, or even a worse one.'
"The censures of the town," wrote lord Nottingham,
" were loud on the queen's utter absence of feeling in regard
to her father." Her conduct provoked another fierce satfre, ,
' Lord Nottingham's letter, ^ Ward's Picture of Loudon,
VOL. VII. Q

226 MAEY II.
which was handed about in manuscript among the coffee
houses, where Dryden and the literati of the day, and the
wits of the court, did congregate. In Unes of great power,
portraits were drawn of queen Mary and the princess Anne,
as the elder and the younger TulUa : —
" In time when princes canceUed nature's law.
In 'Declarations'' which themselves did draw j
When children used their parents to disowi^
And gnawed their way like vipers to a crown —
*****
The king removed, the assembled states thought fit
That Tarquin in the vacant throne should sit.
Voted him regnant in the senate-house.
And with an empty name endowed his spouse,^
That elder TulUa, who some authors feign.
Drove o'er her father's trembling corpse a wain ;
But she, more guUty, numerous wains did drive.
To crush her father and her king alive.
And in remembrance of bis hastened fall,
Eesolved to institute a weekly baU !
She, joUy glutton, gi'ew in bulk and chin.
Feasted in rapine, and enjoyed her sin ;
Yet when she drank cool tea in liberal sups.
The sobbing dame was maudUn in her cups."
As for Marlborough, his treachery to his master is dis
cussed -with a pen of fire, and a sketch added of his -wife : —
" His haughty female who, as folks declare.
Did always toss proud nostrils to the air.
Was to the younger TuUia^ governess.
And did attend her when, in borrowed dress.
She fled by night from TuUius in distress ;
A daughter who by letters brought his foes.
And used aU arts her father to depose, —
A father always generously bent.
So kind, that he her wishes would prevent."
The author of this severe satire must have been intimately
acquainted with the interior history of the royal famUy,
since the treacherous letter written by Anne at the same
time -with that affected one of duty left on her table, slept
in the obscurity of WiUiam III.'s private box at Kensington
tUl George III. opened it to sfr John Dalrymple : even now
it is scarcely known. This, and the curious coincidence
' The "Declaration" is here alluded to, disseminated by the prince of
Orange at his landing. In it he abjured aU intention of aimmg at the mown.
* The princess Anne.

MAEY II. 227
between the comparison of the famUy of Tullius made by
James II. himself, whose manuscript memofrs were then
not only unpublished but kno-wn to few, shows that the
-writer of this extraordinary poem must have been deeper
in the hidden archives of the royal family than the authors
to whom it is severaUy attributed, Dryden or Malnwaring,
could possibly be.
Perhaps count Hamilton, who had lingered at the court
of England in hopes of doing some mischief in behalf of his
master, was the author. Hamilton was a favourite of queen
Mary IL, who found him among her courtiers at her acces
sion : he was her relative by descent from the royal line of
Stuart. He affected great zeal for her interest, and under
took, with the gayest afr in the world, to induce lord Tyr-
connel, the lord-Ueutenant, (who had married his brother's
-widow, Frances Jennings,) to give up Ireland into the hands
of king WUUam. Lord Clarendon, who had lately been
lord-Ueutenant there, and was more of a patriot than a
partisan, alarmed at the perU of the Protestant community,
overcame his abhorrence for William sufficiently to offer his
assistance in obtaining the allegiance of the Irish without
bloodshed. The newly elected sovereigns treated the only
honest statesman who came in contact with them -with con
tumely, being enraged that the oath he had sworn to his
royal brother-in-law prevented him from taking another to
his niece on the throne, or to her husband. The advice of
the gay deceiver, HamUton, (although, if he had a religion,
he was of the church of Rome,) was preferred, and off he
went, as plenipotentiary, to confer -with Tyrconnel. TJie
way in which he performed his mission was, by persuading
Tyrconnel to hold out the kingdom for James II. When
the news came of the part acted by Hamilton, the hefr of
sfr WilUam Temple, who had accepted the office of secretary
of state, and had adrised the measure, drowned himself at
London-bridge, and the court remained in consternation.
Suicide had become hideously prevalent in England at the
end of the seventeenth century.
WhUe queen Mary was in London, endeavouring to
Q 2

228 MARY II.
rerive the spirit of gaiety which had for ever departed
from WhitehaU, her sister remained at Hampton-Court,
where she awaited her accouchement. Whenever the prin
cess Anne went abroad, her extraordinary figure excited
astonishment. Evelyn seemed to behold her ¦with no little
consternation, and thus described her in June 1689: —
" The princess Anne of Denmark is so monstrously swoUen,
that it is doubted that her state may prove only a riolent
tympany, so that the unhappy family of the Stuarts seems
to be extingtushing. Then what government is Ukely to
be set up is unknown, whether regal or by election, the
repubUcans and dissenters from the church of England
looking that way." Although the whole hopes of the
country were fixed on the expected offspring of Anne,
and she was thus rendered in some degree a person of
more importance than either of the sovereigns, her pecu
niary anxieties continued; and if the narrative of her fa
vourite may be credited, she did not receive a single pay
ment of money throughout the year 1689, or rather, from
the time of the departure of her father from England.
The queen took up her residence at Hampton-Court, per
manently for the summer, in the commencement of July.
The manner of life led there by her and her spouse is dimly
remembered by tradition. When the king used to walk ¦with
her across the halls and courts of that antique palace, he
never gave the queen his arm, but hung on hers, and the
difference of thefr size and stature almost provoked risibi
lity. The king every day seemed to grow smaller and leaner,
beneath the pressure of the cares which his thi-ee crowns had
brought him ; whUst Mary, luxuriating in her native air and
the pleasures of her English palaces, seemed to increase in
bulk every hour. She took a great deal of exercise, but did
not try abstinence as a means of reducing her tendency to
obesity. She used to promenade, at a great pace, up and
do-wn the long straight walk under the wall of Hampton-
Court, nearly opposite to the Toy, As her majesty was
attended by her Dutch maids of honour, or English ladies
naturalized in HoUand, the common people who gazed on

MAEY IL 229
their foreign garb and mien named this promenade " Frow-
walk," It is now deeply shadowed with enormous elms
and chestnuts, the frogs from the neighbouring Thames, to
which it slants, occasionally choosing to recreate themselves
there, and the name of Frow-walk is now lost in that of
Prog-walk. In the first year of queen Mary's reign, most of her
household were Dutch ; a few of the higher offices were,
perhaps, given to English. Her majesty's chamberlain was
lord Wiltshire ; her rice-chamberlain, " Jack Howe," (fa-
mUiarly so called); her equerry, sir Edward ViUiers; her
first lady and mistress of her robes, the countess of Derby;
her ladies of honour, Mrs, Mordaunt and Mrs. Forster:
these seem to have been aU the English of her household.
Madame Stirum, who had accompanied her majesty from
Holland, returned in great dudgeon, because she could not
be her first lady in England,'
The daily routine of the life of WUliam and Mary is only
preserved in squibs and lampoons; among these manu
scripts, detestable as they are in construction and metre,
some lost traits are found.
" Hampton-Couet Lipe,' in 1689,
" Mr. Dean says grace with a reverend face,
' Make room !' cries sir Thomas Duppa ;*
Then Bentinck up-locks bis king in a box.
And you see hinn no more untU supper."
The supper took place at half-past nine; by half-past ten,
royalty and the royal household were snoring. If queen
Mary had to write a letter or despatch at eleven at night,
she could not keep her eyes open. The regal dinner-hour
was half-past one, or two at the latest, and breakfast was at
an hour vfrtuously early.
Queen Mary, like every one descended from lord chan
ceUor Clarendon, -with the exception, perhaps, of her uncle,
' Lord-chamberlain's books, and Lamberty.
^ Inedited MS. from the earl of Oxford's coUection of state poems : Lans
downe Papers, No. 852, p. 195.
» Sir T. Duppa's monument, at Westminster-abbey, notices that he was
gentleman-usher to king WilUam.

230 MAEY II.
Henry earl of Clarendon, indulged in eating rather more
than did her good: her enemies accused her of liking
strong potations. The elegance of her figure was injured
by a tendency to rapid increase, on which the satfres and
lampoons of her poUtical opponents did not fail to dwell.
She was scarcely twenty-eight years of age when she became
queen of England, but her nymph-like beauty of face and
form was ampUfied into the comeliness of a tall, stout
woman. Among the valuable coUections of colonel Brad-
dyll, at Conishead Priory, Lancashire, was preserved a very
fine miniature of William III., delicately executed in pen-
and-ink etcMng. It is a smaU oval, laid on a background
of white satin, surrounded with a -wreath of laurel, embroi
dered in outUne tracery in his royal consort's hair, sur
mounted -with the crown-royal. The frame is of wood,
curiously carved and gilded, and at the foot is a cfrcular
medaUion, radiated and enclosed in the riband of the Gar
ter, containing also, under a fafr crystal, queen Mary's hafr,
which is of a pale bro-wn colour, and of an extremely fine
and sUky texture. At the back of the picture queen Mary
has inscribed on a sUp of veUum, with her own hand, " My
hafre, cut off March y^ 5th, 1688." Under the royal auto
graph is written, " Queen Mary's hair and writing."
" Hampton-Court, June 30th. On the 28th instant, the
baron de Leyenberg, envoy-extraordinary from the king of
Sweden, had a pubUc audience of the king, and on the 30tli,
of the queen, to notify the death of the queen Christina.'
He had afterwards audience, on the same occasion, of thefr
royal highnesses the prince and princess of Denmark, being
conducted by sfr Chai-les CottreU, master of the ceremonies."
The princess Anne was, at this time, Uving dependent on
the bounty of her sister and brother-in-law, at Hampton-
Court. Here she was treated, it is true, as princess, but
was forced to owe to them the supply of the very bread she
ate at thefr table.
' The queen of Sweden, whose death was thus formally announced at the
British court, was the eccentric Christina, who had long abdicated her throne,
and Uved a.s a Roman-cathoUc, under the protection of the pope, at Rome.

MAEY n. 231
The Gazette announced, " July 24th. This morning, about
four o'clock, her royal highness the princess Anne of Den
mark was safely delivered of a son, at Hampton-Court.
Queen Mary was present the whole time, about three hours ;
and the king; with most of the persons of quality about the
court, came into her royal highness's bedchamber before she
was delivered. Her royal highness and the young prince
are very weU, to the great satisfaction of their majesties and
the joy of the whole court, as it wUl, doubtless, be of the
whole kingdom." The existence of an heir to the throne,
who would be assuredly educated in Protestant principles,
was deemed by the queen to be the best security against
the restoration of the Roman-catholic Une of Stuart. The
infant was baptized WiUiam, in Hampton-Court chapel.
The king and queen stood sponsors : they proclaimed him
duke of Gloucester the same day, and were generally under
stood to regard him as thefr adopted son. He was not
created duke of Gloucester, because his mother considered
that title as dreadfuUy unlucky.'
The queen paid great attention to her sister during a
long period of weakness and ill-health. Her majesty was,
however, deeply incensed to find, even before the princess
was whoUy recovered, that she was secretly making interest,
by the agency of lady Marlborough, with some members of
the house of commons, to move that an independence might
be settled on her according to promise. The large sum of
six hundred thousand pounds had been voted by the com
mons as the civU list of WiUiam and Mary, and it was then
specified that the princess Anne was to be prorided for out
of it. It seems extraordinary, that either the king or the
queen should expect that their sister could forego her unde
fined share of this provision. One night the queen took the
princess severely to task, asking her, " What was the mean
ing of the proceedings in the house of commons?" Anne
replied, that " she heard her friends there wished to move
that she had some settlement." The queen repUed hastily,
with a most imperious air, " Friends ? Pray, what friends
¦ Hooper MSS.

232 MARY IL
have you but the king and me ?" ' The queen never men
tioned the business again to her sister, although they met
every night. Anne repeated it to lady Marlborough with
more anger than she had ever before been known to ex
press. King William prorogued the parliament just as a
motion was about to be made, "That his majesty would
please to allow the princess Anne fifty thousand pounds out
of the ciril Ust lately granted to him." Meantime, the
princess was burdened with debt and care, and other sorrows
began to press heavily upon her.
During the first two months of the existence of the young
prince, his death was frequently expected; his size was
diminutive, and his constitution very weakly. A perpetual
change of nurses was the remedy proposed : the poor infant
seems to have been brought to the last gasp by this plan.
One day, a fine-looking young quakeress, a Mrs. Pack, came
from Kingston, with a baby of a month old at her breast :
she wished to teU the princess Anne of a remedy that had
done her children good. When the prince of Denmark saw
her, he begged she would go to bed to the pining and sickly
heir of Great Britain, who was that evening expected to
breathe his last. The young quakeress complied ; the infant
duke imbibed nourishment eagerly from her, and from that
hour his mother felt hopes of rearing him.' The residence
of the princess Anne and her husband at Ilampton-Court
with the king and queen, began to be excessively irksome to
them, and before tiie autumn was past, the princess sought
for a place near London, the air of which was unexcep
tionable, for her delicate child.
King WiUiam went from Hampton-Court to Newmarket
October ^§, in one day: this was considered surprising expe
dition. He passed whole days on the race-ground, or in
hunting ; in the evenings he gambled: he lost four thousand
guineas at basset, at one sitting.^ The next morning, being
' Conduct of the Duoliess of Marlborough, p. 29.
2 Memoirs of WilUam Henry dulco of Gloucester, by Lewis Jenkins: Tracts,
British Museum.
» Lamberty. Ho was probably present, being in tho service of Bentinot,
carl of Portkud.

MAEY IL 233
in a state of great exasperation, he gave a gentleman a
stroke with his horsewhip, for riding before him on the race-
ground. The English were not used to such manners ; the
proceeding was satirized by a bon-mot, declaring "that it
was the only blow he had struck for supremacy in his
kingdoms." His majesty thought fit, in his homeward
progress, to pay a risit to Cambridge. There he was re
ceived and harangued by the vice-chamberlain, who was
the same Dr. Covell whose letter concerning the iU-treat-
ment of queen Mary has already been quoted. WhUe the
king was absent, lord Halifax represented to the queen
" how very inconvenient it was for the council to travel to
Hampton-Court to meet the king there, and represented
that a palace near London would be a great conve
nience." '
The princess Anne prudently ¦withdrew her child and
herself from the ricinity of her royal sister and brother-
in-law while the great cause of her own future provision
was debated by parUament. Lord Craven lent his fine
house at Kensington Gravel -pits' for the prince's nursery :
there he remained twelve months. Every day he went out
in a miniature carriage, presented him by the duchess of
Ormonde, nor was the severest cold suffered to detain him
from the air. The horses, Shetland ponies, which were
scarcely larger than good-sized mastiffs, were guided by
Dick Drmy, the prince of Denmark's coachman. Lady
Fitzharding was the household spy in the establishment of
the princess Anne; besides being strongly in the interest
of her sister (Elizabeth Villiers) and of the king, she was
considered to possess an extraordinary share of the queen's
favour. This lady was instructed to persuade the princess
to let the motion in parliament for her provision drop ; but
' Lamberty.
^ The memory of the residence of the old heroic earl of Craven, (who was
supposed to have been privately married to the queen of Bohemia,) is preserved
in the name of Craven-hUl, Bayswater. The beauties of this spot are now
marred by dense rows of brick houses. The house was destroyed by fire in the
last century : its site may be guessed by a fine row of old elms, near Mrs,
Loudon's house, Porchester-terrace,

234 MARY IL
the earl of Marlborough had returned from the campaign iu
HoUand, and he urged on the measure as if his dearest
personal interests were concerned. FinaUy, on the 18th
of December, 1689, the commons signified to the king the
propriety of allo^wing his sister-in-law 50,000Z. out of the
ciril list,' The hatred of queen Mary to her sister thence
forth became implacable, — not openly and avowedly as yet,
for the outward grimace of friendly intercourse continued
more than two years. Meantime, Anne was considered not
only as heiress to the British throne, but in the more im
portant Ught of mother to the future line of sovereigns, for
her infant son grew and prospered. The cfrcumstance of
her bearing an hefr at a very important poUtical crisis, and
that he should live, whUe three children she had preriously
borne had died, formed a parallel case to the birth and pro
longed existence of her unfortunate brother.
One ¦winter's night of 1689, the queen's apartment at
WhitehaU was entered by a scaling-ladder from the Thames,
and the daring burglars carried off the plate of her majesty's
toilet and the branches of a sUver lustre ; in all, prey to the
amount of five or six hundred pounds. The apartment of
the queen's Dutch official, Overkfrk, was at the same time
robbed of a large silver cup. This daring act was generaUy
supposed to have been committed under the auspices of
captain Richardson, gaoler of Newgate, or rather, captain
of the thieves put under his charge, to whom he was dread
fully cruel by day, but at night let the worst of them out
to rob for his benefit. " The perpetrators of the Whitehall
burglary were never discovered, although some of the booty
was found, being a branch of one of the queen's toUet-
lustres, thrown into a darksome hole in Westminster, which
had never before needed a lustre from a queen's table to
illumine its depths,'"
The foregoing stream of occurrences but brings us do-wn to
the Christmas of 1689-90, — an epoch equally marked -with
anxiety to the Protestant branch of the royal famUy reigning
in England, and to their exiled father reigning in Ireland.
> Ralph. ' Lamberty, 696, vol, ii.

MARY II, 235
The saying went throughout the British realm, that if king
James would give some proper pledge for the security of the
established reUgion, he could not be kept out of the govern
ment a single day. In truth, every description of plunderer,
high and low, had seized on the finances -with such rigorous
actirity, that in one twelvemonth only the revenue, which
James II. had left perfectly clear and free from debt, was
minus by three millions.' What was worse, the English
navy, left by their sailor-king the ruler of the seas, had sus
tained a scandalous defeat at Bantry-bay, not for lack of
skiU or bravery, but because the infamous peculators, who
had been kept at bay by king James, now embezzled aU the
funds prorided for food and ammunition. The war was
carried on in Ireland in the same spirit of peculation. The
soldiers sent to oppose king James perished with disease,
because the contractors supplied them with rotten food and
damaged clothing. The duke of Schomberg wrote piteous
despatches from Ireland on the iniquity of the EngUshmen
in office, especially if they were leaders in the house of com
mons. William III. writhed under the consciousness that
this corruption was sapping the foundations of his throne.
One day he was discussing these troubles with his minister
and confidant Bentinck, whom he had lately created earl of
Portland; they observed, with consternation, the appaUing
public defalcations which had impafred the revenue since the
deposition of king James. Portland asked his royal friend,
" whether he beUeved that there was one honest man in the
whole of Great Britain ?" — " Yes, there are many," repUed
king WiUiam with a sigh. " There are as many men of high
honour in this country as in any other, perhaps more; but,
my lord Portland, they are not my friends.'"
This conriction did not prevent king WUUam from dis
gracing himself by the patronage he afforded to the noxious
wretch, Titus Gates, The parliament annulled the just sen
tence of the law against the perjurer, and William and Mary
' See .Dalrymple's Appendix, Toone's Chronology,
^ Lord Dartmouth's Notes. Portland told the anecdote to Dartmouth's
father.

236 MARY IL
not only pensioned him -with 520/, per annum,' but, what
was far worse, rewarded him for his deeds -with two rich
lirings in the church of England. Titus likewise -wrote a
most UbeUous book against James IL, and was impudent
enough to present it in full levee to the king and queen.
Evelyn mentions, -with disgust, that his work contrived to
insult the grandfather as well as the father of the queen,
being entitled, " Eikon Basilike, or a picture of the late king
James." It was a -vulgar parody on the beautiful work of
Charles I. The patronage of this foul character occasioned
horror, but king WiUiam was supposed to be in his power,
on account of former poUtical intrigues. Notwithstanding
aU the personal favour and riches the king and queen were
pleased to shower on Titus Gates, the parliament stiU refused
to remove the stigma of perjury from him. What would be
thought in these days, of a clergyman being inducted into
rich pluralities, whose oath was inadmissible as a conricted
false -witness?
The queen was observed by her courtiers to put on a
statue-like coldness whenever she communed -with her sister,
who was glad to retreat to her old dwelUng, the Cockpit,
from the coveted Portsmouth apartments, which were in near
ricinity to those of her majesty. The queen's side of the
ancient palace of Whitehall seems to have been on the site
of the range of buUdings now called Whitehall-terrace;
while the residence of the princess, the Cockpit, was on the
other side of the Holbein-gateway, and opened into St.
James's-park. The Portsmouth apartments were occupied
by the infant duke of Gloucester as his nursery, whenever
he was in town; and the queen could at times approach her
' An extract from the Secret Service-book of WiUiam III. sets this assertion
beyond dispute. The king privUy paid this perjurer ten pomids every week,
sb Denham Norreys having favoured us with an extract from the document
among the Irish State-papers : the date from Sept. 29 to Dec. 25, 1690.
" Titus Otes, upon his aU"^' of xi. per week, and is for
four weeks, commencing on the 9th October and
ending on the 6th Nov  40 0 0"
This payment is regularly repeated through the account, and gives him 520Z.
per annum. Hume states only 400Z. per aimum to be the amount.

MARY II. 237
adopted son -without always meeting the mother, and assum
ing the austere frown -with which she usuaUy beheld her,'
The princess, who was a tender mother, passed much of her
time in the nursery of her heir. Whenever the queen heard
that her sister was there, she forbore to enter the room, but
would send an inqufry or a message to her infant nephew, —
" a compliment," as it was called in the phraseology of the
day. The set speech used to be delivered by the queen's
official in formal terms to the unconscious infant, as he sat on
his nurse's knee ; and then the courtly messenger would de
part, without taking the slightest notice of the princess Anne,
although she was in the room -with her chUd. Sometimes
queen Mary sent her nephew rattles or balls, or other toys,
all which were chronicled in the Gazette with great solem
nity; but every attention shown to the Uttle Gloucester was
attended -with some signal impertinence to his mother.'
Early in the spring of 1690, king William completed the
purchase of lord Nottingham's lease of Kensington-house,
for which 30,000/. was paid out of the treasury,' and deter
mined to build there a palace which would be conveniently
contiguous to London for councils, and yet out of the reach
of its smoky atmosphere, which often aggravated his con
stitutional disease of asthma to agony. The earl of Notting
ham's ground at Kensington consisted of only twenty-five
acres, being the angle between the present conservatory
and Kensington town, and the whole demesne in king
WiUiam's occupation never exceeded it. Hyde-park then
came up to the great walk,* which now reaches from Bays-
water to Kensington, extending in front to the palace. A
wUd gravel pit occupied the ground between the north of
the palace and the Bayswater road/ afterwards enclosed by
queen Anne. A straight avenue of trees and a formal car
riage-drive led across the park to WilUam III.'s suburban
palace : the round pond did not then exist, therefore the
present features of the scene are essentially different.
• Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough. - Ibid.
' Tindal's Continuation,
' Knight's London, " Ibid.

MARY II.
QUEEN-REGNANT OF GREAT BEITAIN AND lEELAND.

CHAPTER VI.

The reins of government consigned to queen Mary — Plan to seize her father —
Departure of William III, to Ireland — The queen's letters — She describes
her quarrel with the queen-dowager — Arrest of her uncle — Enmity against
him — Her Sabbath laws — Her want of money for building — Her regnal
troubles — Her annoyance fi^m lord Monmouth — She orders the fleet to fight
— Loss of the battle of Beachy Head — Her letter on it — Writes to the Dutch
admiral — Her affliction — Letter on the king's wound — On the battle of the
Boyne — Her meeting with lord Lincoln — 'Visit to the privy councU — Is
named in Jacobite songs — She pleads for education in Ireland — Horrors
infficted there by her husband — Queen reviews the miUtia — Her disgust at
Burnet and his sermon — Her discussions in councU — Urged to seize power —
Her fideUty to her spouse — Harassed with naval matters — Offers command to
admiral RusseU — Tormented with cabinet factions — Expects the king home
— Kensington-palace and Hampton-Court unfinished — Dreads her husband's
anger — Fears for his capture at sea — Plagued by factions — Beset by a mad
lord — Regnal perplexities — Has the vapours.
Queen Mary was brought by WUUam the Third to councU
June 3rd, 1690, an act of parUament having previously
passed, investing her -with fiiU regnal powers during the
king's absence, WUUam appointed in her presence the
junta of nine privy councillors whom he had chosen to
assist her.' The president of this cabinet-council was lord
Danby, who first practised, systematicaUy, the black art of
swaying the English senate by personal bribes. He was
now marquess of Carmarthen. His eight coadjutors were
lord Pembroke, lord Devonshfre, lord Nottingham, lord
Godolphin, lord Marlborough, lord Monmouth,' admfral
Russell, and sir John Lowther. Such were the materials
of Mary II.'s government, when, in the prime of Ufe, m
' Lord Clarendon's Diary, vol. U. p. 316. Sir J. Dah-ymple's Appendix.
' This person is the same eccentric hero celebrated under the name of lord
Peterborough in the reign of queen Anne. It is a task to identify historical
characters under the rapid changes of titular appeUation assumed by the revo
lutionists.

MARY II. 239
her nine-and-twentieth summer, the reins of a dirided em
pfre were placed in her inexperienced hands. A most ex
traordinary story was at the same time cfrculated concerning
her, which was, that she had suffered since her coronation
great mental agony on account of her conduct to her
father ; and in consequence, had had recourse to the spirit
ual aid of her friend, Dr. TiUotson. He, to comfort her,
preached a sermon from Matt. xxx. 46, on heU torments.
It appears that TiUotson leaned to doubts as to thefr
eternity, for furious comments were made on the sermon
by his enemies, as a promulgation of the tenets of the
Socinians. The most provoking assertion was, that they
were adopted to soothe the queen's despair.'
"The day before the king set out for Ireland," says Burnet,'
"he called me into his closet; he seemed to have a great
weight on his spirits from the state of his affafrs, which was
then very cloudy. He said, ' for his part he trusted in God,
and would either go through with this business, or perish in
it ; only he pitied the poor queen, — the poor queen !' repeat
ing that twice with great tenderness, and ' wished that those
who loved him would wait much on her, and assist her;'
adding, ' the going to a campaign was naturaUy no unplea
sant thing to him. He was sure he understood that better
than how to govern England; and though he had no mis
trust or doubt of the cause he went on, yet, going against
Idng James in person was hard upon him, since it would be
a vast trouble, both to himself and the queen, if her father
should be either kUled or taken prisoner.' He [king Wil
liam] desired my prayers, and dismissed me very deeply
affected with all he had said." ^ I had a particular occasion
to know how tender he [WilUam III.] was of king James's
person, for owe* had sent by me a proposition to him, [Wil-
' Life of Dr. TUlotson, by Dr. Birch. The sermon was preached March 7,
1690. The uproar concerning it lasted some mouths.
2 Harleian MSS. No. 6584. Brit. Museum.
' Burnet's Own Times, which thus far varies Uttle from the MSS.
* The author has some idea that this " one," unnamed by Bumet, was sir
Cloudesley Shovel. Burnet's MS. leaves tho chronology of this remarkable

240: MARY II.
Uam,] which seemed fair : That a first-rate ship, manned by
men on whom the king [WilUam] might depend, and com
manded by one that the king [WilUam] might trust, should
be sent to Dublin, -with orders to ' declare for king James.'
He [the commander of the ship] offered to be the person
who should carry the message to king James, then at Dublin,
for he had served him at sea, and was known to him. He
knew the king's temper [James] so well, that, upon an in-
ritation, he was sure he would come on board, and then
they might sail away "with him, either ' to some part of Spain
or Italy;' for he [the betrayer] 'would not engage in it,
unless he was assured he [James IL] was not to be made
a prisoner.'^ When / [Burnet] carried this to the king,
[WiUiam,] he thought ' the thing might, probably enough,
succeed.' But he would not hearken to it, ' he would have
no hand in treachery; and besides, if king James should go
on board with his guards, there might be some struggle with
them and the seamen, and in it somewhat might happen to
king James's person, in which he would have no hand;' so
he would not entertain the notion. I told this afterwards to
the queen, and saw in her a great tenderness for her father,
and she seemed much touched at the answer the king had
made." Would, for the honour of human nature, that this
passage were true, but sternly is it gainsaid by the secret
proceedings of the pafr. A warrant was found,' a few years
incident iu his usual indefinite manner. He mentions it June 13, old style ; it
might have occurred previously.
' In Burnet's printed history the audacious figment is stated, " that long
James was to be set on shore in the Catholic states of Spain or Italy, with a
present of 20,000?." His manuscripts say nothing of this present.
'^ Lord Dartmouth, Notes to Burnet, vol. iv. p. 82. Torrington's papers
were aU seized after his defeat at Beachy Head, July 1, 1690. A writer in the
Edinburgh Review, finding these facts distasteftd to his preconceived ideas of
history, has endeavoured, on mere assertion, to invalidate the connexion between
WiUiam and Mary's privy-seal warrant for deUvering their father up to the
Dutch and this plan of Burnet for kidnapping him. The Edinburgh Review says
the dates disagree. Let any reader examine the matter by chronological tables,,
and it wiU be seen that the date of the warrant must, perforce, be limited be
tween the time James arrived at Dublin, AprU 1689, and Herbert lord Toriing-
ton's defeat at Beachy Head, June 29th, (o.s.) 1690, because Herbert lord Tor-
rington never held any command afterwards. The dates are coincident, and cannot

MARY II. 241
afterwards by lord Dartmouth, among Herbert earl of
Torrington's papers, written throughout by queen Mary's
great confidant, the earl of Nottingham, and signed by the
hand of king WiUiam, authorizing the same admfral [Tor-
rington] " to seize the person of James II. , and to deUver
him up, certainly not to Spain, or Italy, but to the states of
HoUand, to be disposed of as they should think proper." The
mercies of the Dutch to the admiral-prince who had queUed
their flag in so many tremendous conflicts, were not Ukely to
be very tender. The new information gained by comparing
Burnet's manuscript notation of current events "with the
printed version given to the world in general, is worth at
tention. It has been shown that he claims the merit of in
troducing to WUUam III. the above plan for kidnapping king
James IL, by enticing him on board one of the ships that had
formerly belonged to him ; but whether the parricidal warrant
mentioned by lord Dartmouth was only dra-wn at that very
time, or had preriously existed, it convicts the fiUal pafr of
deep hypocrisy, with thefr tears and pious ejaciUating, and
"desired prayers." In further iUustration of thefr true feel
ings may be seen, to this day, the London Gazette printed
under Mary's regency, in which exultant mention is made
"that the cannons of her husband, pointed against the tents
of her father, had beat down many in close ricinity to him,"'
" The queen woiUd not enter on the government untU the
Idng was upon the seas," pursues Burnet's MSS, " She was
regular in her private and pubUc devotions to admfration.
She was much in her closet, and read a great deal; she wrought
much, [in handiworks,] and seemed to employ her thoughts
on any thing but business, AU she did was natural and un-
afi'ected; her conversation was natural and obUging, and she
was singular for her vast charities to the poor. A vast mass
be disconnected by abusive words. Lord Dartmouth is a credible witness ; he
bore evidence on a matter concerning bis own pecuUar business, for he was lord
privy-seal in the reign of queen Anne, and avowedly spoke from the Torrington
papers he found in his own office.
' London Gazette, July 1690, which is further quoted in Ralph's History,
p. 21. VOL. Vll. R

243 MAEY II.
of people of quaUty had fled from Ireland, and drew from her
great marks of her bounty and goodness ; nor was she ever
uneasy or angry -with those who threw objects in her way.
But aU this was nothing to the public ; if the king talked to
her of affafrs, it was in so private a way as nobody seemed to
apprehend it. Only Shrewsbury told me [Burnet] that the
king said to him, that ' Though he could not hit the right
way of pleasing the nation, he was sure she could, and that
we should be aU very happy under her.' '"
Queen Mary bade adieu to her husband June ^, 1690.
He commenced his journey towards the coast of Cheshfre'
the same day, meaning to land in that part of Ireland which
would enable him to effect a speedy junction of the great
forces he brought with the miserable and dispirited army
commanded by Schomberg and Kirke. The day of his
departure the queen came to WhitehaU-palace, where she
ostensibly took up her residence and assumed the reins of
government. In due time she received a letter from her
husband, announcing his safe arrival at Carrickfergus,
June 14.
After WiUiam's departure to Ireland may be observed, for
\h.e first time, a recognition of Mary's participation in the
sovereignty in her own palace, by the alteration in the lord
chamberlain's warrants, which then begin to be dated in
the second year of their majesties' instead of his majesty's
reign. But never, in the most stormy periods of her
regency, had the queen the sUghtest communication with
her parliament excepting by commission,^ the instruments for
which bear her fuU sign-manual, Maria Regina ; to which
is added, Gnliel. et Maria, Dei gratia Anglia, &c. Never
theless, the formula of all assented biUs ran, le Roy et la
Reyne le veulent.* Perhaps the king's regal jealousy of his
wife had been aggravated by a remarkable cfrcumstance,—
that when the bUl was passing in the spring of this year of
' Harleian CoUection, Burnet's original autograph MSS., No. 6584,
' Diary of Lord Clai-endon,
' MS. Journals of the House of Lords. • So written.

MAEY II. 243
1690, to enable the queen to exercise in the king's absence
the sole sovereign power, very singiUar queries were started :
for instance, " Whether, if the queen gave contrary com
mands to the king, or signed any documents contradicting
his orders, which sovereign was to be obeyed?" Such is,
however, the mere heading of the diurnal notation; the very
remarkable debate which ensued thereon passed with closed
doors, and if any minutes remain of the speeches, they exist
in as yet undiscovered private manuscripts,
A glance over the long-sealed household records of the
reign of WiUiam and Mary is sufficient to conrince any
person, not wUfuUy blind, to the exclusive patronage be
stowed on the countrymen of the Dutch sovereign. His
vans and mynheers monopolize all offices about his august
person. Beginning with his principal favourites, Bentinck
and Keppel, who were inridiously styled Ins minions by the
great body of the people, and ending -nith his two com-
cutters, no names occur but those of foreigners.
The queen wrote daily to her spouse during the Irish
campaign, gi-ving him minute information on aU occurrences,
political and domestic. The first letter of the series found
in king WiUiam's box at Kensington is as f oUows : —
"QuBEN Maet to Knfa Wilham.' ""WhitehaU, June, 1690,
" You wUl be weary of seeing every day a letter from me, it may be ; yet,
being apt to flatter myself, 1 wUl hope that you wUl be as wUling to read as I
to write, and, indeed, it is the only comfort I have in this world, besides that of
trust in God. I have nothing to say to you at present that is worth writing,
and I think it unreasonable to trouble you -with my grief, which must continue
while you are absent, though I trust, every post, to hear some good news of
you; therefore I shall make this very short, and only tell you I have got a
BweUed face, though not quite so bad as it was in HoUand, five years ago. I
beUeve it came by standing too near the window when I took the waters.
" I cannot thank God enough for your being so well past the dangers of the
sea. I beseech him, in his mercy, stiU to preserve you so, and send us once
more a happy meeting upon earth. I long to hear again from you how the air
of Ireland agrees with you, for I must own I am not without my fears for that,
loving you so entirely as I do, and shall tUl death."
Mary's next letter to her husband shows her launched on
the sea of troubles belonging to her exalted station. She
' Dalrymple's Appendix, p. 115.
K 2

244 MAEY II.
details to her absent lord her refusal to sign the death-
warrant of Macguire, the burglar, and her determination of
commuting his sentence of death into transportation.' " I
shall not trouble you," she adds, " with every thing the
lords said to me at this time ; the chief thing was, that they
had had the parson in examination." Her majesty proceeds
to relate, in dict''5>n rather too involved for dfrect quotation,
why " this parson " was in trouble "with the privy council.
A prayer had been ordered by her to be said in all church-
of-England places of worship, for the success of king WU
liam's arms against her father in Ireland. Lord Feversham,
chamberlain to the queen-dowager, Catharine of Braganza,
had taken upon him to stop this prayer from being said by
" the parson" of the Savoy chapel, because it was under the
jurisdiction of Somerset-house, the dower-palace of Catha
rine of Braganza, whereby king WiUiam was deprived of
the benefit of the prayers of the protestant part of the
dowager's household, — conduct which Mary riewed with
intense indignation.
The bitterness which pervaded the mind of Mary against
the forlorn queen-dowager, hfer uncle's vridow, whose friend
less state in a foreign land ought to have caUed forth better
feelings, is apparent throughout the whole of this corre
spondence. She proceeds thus to describe to her wedded
partner how she took lord Feversham to task for the offences
of his royal mistress. " I was," she writes,' " extreme angry,
which the lords [of the privy-councU] saw, but I shaU not
trouble you with it, I told them, that I thought there was
no more measures to be kept with the queen-dowager herself
after this ; that is, if it were her order, which no doubt it is,
Ffrst, lord Nottingham was to send for lord Feversham to
him, I desired him 'to speak as angrily to him as pos
sible,' which he promised to do. Lord Feversham was -with
him as soon as he got home, having heard of the parson
' It must be remembered that the West India islands and North America
were, at that time, the penal settlements for convicts.
* Letters of queen Mary to long WUUam, printed iu Dah:ymple's Appendix,
pai't U., from the Kensington box, pp. 115, 116.

MARY II. 245
being examined. When lord Nottingham told him aU I
said, he seemed much concerned, and desired to come and
throw himself at my feet, and own all the matter as a very
great fault in him, but done out of no iU design. To be
short, he came yesterday to my bedchamber, at the hour
when there was a great deal of company, (I mean just
before dinner) ; he looked as pale as death, and spoke in
great disorder." As lord Feversham had recently been a
prisoner in the Round-tower at Windsor-castle,' on the
committal of king WilUam, perhaps his pallor proved his
alarm lest the queen should send him back to his old place
of durance.
Queen Mary's narrative proves that she gave her morning
receptions in her bedchamber. She thus continues to nar
rate the tribulations of poor lord Feversham, who, being a
Frenchman, was, of course, rather hyperbolical in his mode
of apology to the fafr offended majesty of Great Britain : —
" He said," continued the queen, " that he must own it was
a very great fault, since I took it so ; but he begged me to
beUeve it was done not out of any ill intention, nor by agree
ment with any body. He assured me the queen-dowager
knew nothing of it : that it was a fault, a folly, an indiscre
tion, or any thing I woidd caU it.' I told him 'that after
doing a thing of that nature, the best way was not to go
about excusing of it, for that was impossible, since, to call
it by the most gentle name I could give it, 'twas an unpar
donable folly, which I did not expect after the protestations
he had made.' Upon which he said an abundance of words:
I doubt whether he himself knew what he meant by them.
At last, he spoke plain enough. He said, ' God pardoned
sinners when they repented, and so he hoped I would.' I
told him, 'God saw hearts, and whether their repentance
was sincere, which, since I could not do, he must not find it
strange if I trusted only to actions,' and so I left him. I
pity the poor man for being obliged thus to take the queen-
doTf'ager's faults upon him, yet I could not bring myself to
. ' Sir Henry Ellis's Historical Letters, second Series, vol. iv. p. 184. His
name was Louis Duras ; he was nephew to the great Turenne.

246 MAEY II.
forgive him. I remember I did say more, 'that if it had
been myself, I could have pardoned him; but when it im
mediately concerned your person, I would not, nor could
not.' " The queen-dowager sent me a compUment yesterday on
my swelled face. I do not know whether I have ¦writ you
word of it. Yesterday I had leeches set behind my ears,
which has done but Uttle good, so that it mends but slowly;
and one of my eyes being again sore, I am fain to write this
at so many times, that I fear you will make but iU sense of
it. The queen-dowager will come to-day to see me, but
desfred an hour when there was least company, so I imagine
she -will speak something of herself; and that which incUnes
me the more to this opinion is, that she has sent for lord
Halifax,' and was shut up in her chamber about business
-with him and others the whole morning. I shaU give you
an account of this before I seal up my letter."
Queen Mary was, however, disappointed. Catharine of
Braganza came not as a suppliant at her levee, to receive
a rating like her lord chamberlain, Feversham. As that
nobleman had promised and vowed that his queen knew
nothing of the offence, Catharine wisely resolved to appear
as if she remained in utter ignorance of the whole affafr;
nor could queen Mary insist that her dowager-aunt knew
aught of what was going on in a Protestant place of wor
ship which she never attended. At the close of her letter,
queen Mary says, "The queen-dowager has been, but did
not stay a moment, or speak two words. Since she went,
I have been in the garden, and find my face pretty weU ;
but it is now candle-Ught, therefore I dare say no more,
I have still the same complaint to make that I have not
time to cry, which would a Uttle ease my heart, but I hope
in God I shall have such news from you as -wUl give me no
reason; yet your absence is enough, but since it pleases
God, I must have patience. Do but continue to love me,
and I can bear aU things with ease," The next day brought
' He was chancellor to the queen-dowager's (Catliarine of Braganza) esta
bUshment.

MAEY IL 247
tidings of sufficient import to divert her mind from dwelling
on her heart-burnings with the queen- dowager ; it was, that
a mighty French fleet, which had been long expected to
invade England, was seen passing through the Channel,
Queen Mary announced this event in two dupUcate letters
to her husband : —
"Qttben Maet to Knia William.'
" "WhitehaU, June 22, half-past 11 at night.
" The news which is come to-night of the French fleet being upon the coast,
makes it thought necessary to write to you both ways,'' and I (that you may see
how matters stand in my heart) prepare a letter for each. I think lord Torring
ton (admiral of the English fleet in the Channel) has made no haste, and I
cannot teU whether his being sick, and staying for lord Pembroke's regiment,
wiU be a sufficient excuse. But I wiU not take up your time with my reason
ings- I shall only teU you that I am so Uttle afraid, that I begin to fear that
I have not sense enough to apprehend the danger ; for whether it threatens
Ireland or this place, [England,] to me 'tis much as one to the fear, for as much
a coward as you think me, I fear me for your dear person more than my poor
can-case. I know who is most necessary in the world. What I fear most at
present, is not hearing from you. Love me, whatever happens, and be assured
I am ever entirely " Your's tiU death."
In the duplicate letter which she -wrote at this exigence,
the chief variation is in her pretty expressions of affection
to her husband. She says to him, "As I was ready to go
into my bed, lord Nott[ingham] came and brought me a
letter, of which he is going to give you an account. For
my own part, I shaU say nothing to it, but that I trust God
-wiU preserve us, — you where you are, and poor I here."
She again repeats, " that her insensibiUty to fear is so com
plete, that she attributes it to a defect of character." WU
Uam, it seems, had formed no high idea of her valour, for
she playfuUy aUudes to his opinion of her cowardice. She
nevertheless showed, at this awful crisis, as valiant and
steady a spfrit as her most renowned sfres.
Left alone, or surrounded by those whose fideUty was
doubtful, Mary II. acted vrith decision and rigour. WhUe
.a rictorious fleet threatened her coasts, she issued warrants
' Dah-ymple's Appendix, part U. p. 117, printed from king WiUiam's box,
Kensington. '' By two different routes to Ireland: both of the queen's letters arrived
safely.

248 MAEY II.
for the capture of a large number of the discontented nobi
lity, among whom her mother's brothers were numbered;
and strong in her reliance on the middle-classes of England,
she reriewed in person the militia caUed "the London and
Westminster trained-bands." Her next measure was to
banish all the Catholics from the ricinity of the metro
polis, a step which met -with the enthusiastic applause of her
party. She devotes a whole letter to her husband on the
subject of the arrests, and manifests as little natural affec
tion at incarcerating, or, as she caUs it, "clapping up"
her uncle lord Clarendon in the Tower on suspicion, as she
did when dispossessing her father of his throne and country.
These are her words on the subject : —
" Since I vprit to you about the coming of the French fleet upon the coasts
the lords have been very busy. I shall not go about to give you an account of
all things, but shaU teU you some particular passages. One happened to-day at
the great council, [privy council,] where 1 was by their advice. When they had
resolved to seize on suspected persons, in naming them, sir H. Capel would have
said something for lord Clarendon, (whose first wife, you know, was sir H. C.'s
sister). Every body stared at him ; but nobody preparing to answer, 1 ventured
to speak, and told sir H. Capel ' that I beUeved every body knew, as I did, that
there was too much against him [lord Clarendon] to leave him out of the Ust
that was making.' I can't teU whether I ought to have said this ; but when I
knew your mind upon it, and had seen bis [lord Clarendon's] letter, I beUeved
it as necessary that he should be clapt up as any, and therefore thought myself
obUged to say so. But as I do not know when I ought to speak, and when not,
I am as sUent as can be ; and if I have done it now mal-a-propos, I am sorry,
but could not help it, though, at the same time I must own I am sorrier than it
may be well beUeved for him, finding the Dutch proverb true, which you know,
but I should spoU in writing." '
It is to be regretted that queen Mary did not quote her
Dutch proverb, since any thing in Ulustration of her feeling
towards her mother's family would be an historical curi
osity. Mary knew that the manner in which her uncle
treated her advancement impUed the severest blame on her
conduct, and she never forgave him for riewing her queen-
ship with grief and shame, instead of rushing to profit by
her power.
At an early period of her regnal labours, the queen re
quested her council to assist her in framing regulations for
the better observance of the Sabbath, AU hackney-car-
' Whitehall, June 24, [July 4, o.s.].

MAEY II. 249
riages and horses were forbidden to work on that day, and
thefr drivers to ply for customers. The humanity of this
regulation was, however, neutraUzed by the absurdity of
other acts. The queen had constables stationed at the cor
ners of streets, who were charged to capture all puddings
and pies on thefr progress to bakers' ovens on Sundays;
but such ridiculous scenes in the streets took place, in con
sequence of the o^wners fighting fiercely for thefr dinners,
that her laws were suspended amid universal laughter.'
Perhaps some of her council, remembering her own Sunday
evening gamblings, both in England and HoUand, thought
that her majesty might have had mercy on the less culpable
Sunday puddings and pies of the hungry poor, belonging to
persons too often destitute of fire and conveniences for pre
paring their humble meal.
Mary seldom appeared at the pri-vy council board, and
then only when there was some measure in agitation which
required the weight of her personal influence and viva voce
observations, such as the consignment of her eldest uncle to
the Tower. Did she then cast a thought on his devoted
attachment to her expatriated sfre ? or take shame that the
love of the brother-in-law and the friend of early youth so
far exceeded that of "Mary the daughter," as her Scottish
subjects, in the utmost bitterness of satire, ironicaUy termed
her ? No ; for there was but one spot of tenderness in the
marble of her heart, and that was exclusively devoted to her
husband. The queen continues her narrative, in the course
of which the reiteration of her sneering phrase, " clapt up,"
proves that she had Uttle pity for those whom her warrants
had hurried into captivity. She says, —
" I hope the easterly wind is the only cause I do not hear from you, which 1
am very impatient for now ; and, when I consider that you may be got a great
way if you began to march last Thursday, I am in a mUlion of fears, not know
ing when you may be in danger. That alone is enough to make me the greatest
pain imaginable, and in comparison of which all things else are not to be named.
Yet, by a letter from lord Torrington,^ dated three o'clock yesterday afternoon,
I see he thought this day was like to decide a great deal there. 1 cannot but
' Somers' Tracts ; British Museum.
' From the fieet he was commanding, ofi' Beachy Head.

250 MAEY IL
be in pain. It may be I do not reason just on the matter, but I fear, besides
disbeai-tening many people, the loss of a battle would bo such an encouragement
to the disaffected ones, that might put things hero into disorder, which, in your
absence, would be a terrible tiling : but I thank God I trust in him, and that is
really the only consolation I have.
" I was last night in Hyde-park, for the first time since you went : it
swarmed with those who are now ordered to he clapt up. "Yesterday lord
Feversham [queen Catharine's lord chamberlain] came to lord Nottingham
[queen Mary's lord chamberlain], and told him that he had put the queen-
dowager off the Hamburgh voyage, but she would go to Bath. After wliich he
came again, and said, 'that seeing it might be inconvenient to have guards
there, she desired to go to Islington ;' but lord Marlborough desired an answer
might not be given for a day or two, tUl we heard something of the success of
the fleet.
" Since I have writ this, I was caUed out to lord Nottingham, who brought
me your dear letter, which is so welcome that I cannot express it, especially
because you pity me, which I like and desire from you, and you only. As for
the buildings, I fear there wiU be many obstacles, for I spoke to sir J. Lowther
this very day, and hear of so much use for money, and find so little, that I
cannot -tell whether that of Hampton-Court wiU not be the worst for it, espe
ciaUy since the French are in the Channel, and at present between Portland and
us, from whence the stone must come."
The queen aUudes to the quadrangle at Ilampton-Court,
which had been demolished by William III., and was then
in course of reconstruction by sir Christopher Wren. It is
apparent that the queen was fearful that her consort could
not enjoy his tastes for war and buUding both at the same
time. She wrote, two days after, to her absent king, dated
WhitehaU : the troubles of empire appear to thicken around
her. " By this express I shaU write freely, and teU you what great suspicions
increase continually of major Wildman.^ It would be too long to teU you aU the
reasons of suspicion, but this one instance I will give, that since your going from
hence there is not one word come from Scotland, neither from lord MeVovn nor
colonel Mackay, to lord Marlborough, which methinks is unaccountable. Lord
Nottingham desired I would sign letters to the governors of Berwick and Car-
Usle, not to let any persons go by who had not a \Mum, and that tiioy should stop
aU the mails. This I have done, and the expreas is to be immediately sent
away. I ever fear not doing weU, and trust to what nobody says but you ;
therefore I hope it will have your approbation."
The intense difficulty of the queen's position, surrounded
as she was by secret enemies, petulant friends, or partisans
' Probably to Canonbury-houso.
« Wiklman had been engaged in all the plots for the last forty years. Ho
appears to have been secretary to lord Monmouth, afterwards so woU known as
the warlike and eccentric Charles Mordaunt, earl of Peterborough, hou: of James
II.'s Iriond, the old cavaUer and Jacobite.

MAEY II. 251
solely devoted to their o^wn interest, was reaUy frightful,
and if she had had no truer support from the English people
than she had from the EngUsh court and aristocracy, her
cause would have been a desperate one. Such as it was, it
is best to be comprehended through the medium of her own
pen, as she relates her troubles to her only friend and con
fidant : —
" The duke of Bolton also tells me, last night, yon had given him leave to
raise some horse- volunteers, for which he should have had a commission; but
that you went away, and therefore he v/ould have me ^ve it. I put it off, and
lord Marlborough advises me not to give it. Lord president [Carmarthen] some
time since told me the same thing, but I wiU not give any positive answer till
you send me your directions. 1 must also give you an account of what lord
Nottingham told me yesterday. He says, ' lord steward [the earl of Devon
shire] ' was very angry at lord Torrington's deferring the %ht, and proposed
' that somebody should be joined in commission with him ;' but that, the other
lords said, ' could not be done.' So lord Monmouth offered to take one, whose
name I have forgot, (he is newly made, I think, commissioner of the navy,) and
(as lord Nottingham tells me you had thoughts of having him command the
fleet if lord Torrington had not,) this man lord Monmouth proposed ' to take,
and go tofjetlier on board lord 'Torrington's ship as volunteers, but with a com
mission about them to take the command, in case he should be killed.' I told
Nottingham ' I was not wiUing to grant any commission of that nature, not
knowing whether you ever had any thoughts of that kind, so that I thought he
was only to be thanked for his offer.' I added, 'that I could not think it
proper, that ho, being one of the nine you had named, [as her councU of regency,]
should be sent away.' Upon which lord Nottingham laughed, and said, ' That
was the greatest compliment I could make lord Monmouth, to say I could not
make use of his arm, having need of his counsel. I suppose they are not very
good friends, but I said it reaUy as I meant, and besides, to hinder propositions
of this kind for Mr. RusseU; for lord president [Carmarthen] has upon several
occasions to me alone mentioned sending Mr. EusseU, and I believe it was only
to be rid of him. For my part, after wliat you have told me of aU the nine, I
should be very sorry to have him from hence."
This Mr. Russell was the person caUed admiral Russell in
history. Queen Mary seems to have placed the utmost
reliance on his fidelity, though his rough and savage temper,
together with his perpetual grasping after money and profit,
made him by no means a practicable member of the regency
council. Just at this time he had taken some affront, — a
frequent case ; and the queen was forced to court him back
to her aid at this awful crisis, by the assistance of his rela
tive, the celebrated Rachel lady RusseU. Her majesty con
tinues, —
' In this, as in other instances, the author's explanatory interpolations are in
square brackets; the round parenthetical enclosures are by the queen.

252 MARY II.
" And now I have named Mr. RusseU, I must teU you that, at your first
going, he did not come to me, nor I believe to this hour would not have asked
to have spoke with me, had not I told lady RusseU one day I desfred it. 'When
he came, I told him freely, ' that I desired to see him sometimes, for being a
stranger to business, I was afraid of being led or persuaded by one party.' He
said, ' that he was very glad to find me of that mind, and assured me that,
since I gave him that Uberty, he would come when he saw occasion, though he
would not be troublesome.' I hope I did not do amiss in this, and, indeed, I
saw at that time no one but lord president Carmarthen, and I was afraid of
myself. Lord Carmarthen is, on aU occasions, afraid of giving me too much
trouble, and thinks, by Uttle and Uttle, to do aU. Every one sees how Uttle I
know of business, and therefore, I beUeve, wUl be apt to do as much as they
can. Lord Marlborough advised me ' to resolve to be present as often as was
possible,' out of what intention I cannot judge ; but I find they meet often at
the secretary's office, and do not take much pains to give me an account. This
I thought fit to teU you; pray be so kind to answer me as particular as you
can. " Queen-dowager has been to take her leave, in order to going to Hammer
smith, where she wiU stay tUl she can go for Windsor. I have tired you with
this long letter, and it is now staid [waited] for. I shaU say no more, but
beg you to beUeve it is impossible to love more than I do : don't love me less."
This letter and the succeeding one were -written during
the period of anxiety which preceded the impending sea-
fight off Beachy Head. Suspicion of lord Torrington, and
an earnest desire to interfere in his business as admfral, were
the prevalent feelings in the queen's cabinet. Just time
enough had elapsed for the English na-vy to feel the want
of the royal admiral, for the harpies of corruption, ever on
the alert in an elective monarchy, had done their business
so effectuaUy with the well-appointed ships and stores he
had left, that a discomfiture had been experienced by the
EngUsh navy at Bantry-bay the year before, and another
disgraceful defeat awaited it.' Great jealousies existed be
tween the Dutch admiral, Evertzen, and the EngUsh admfral,
lord Torrington, who was desirous of avoiding an engage
ment : knowing the miserable state of his appointments, he
wished to defend the English coasts from invasion, and this
' The lamentable state into which the navy had fallen may be judged by the
following piteous extract from lord Carmarthen's letter to king "VViUiam, (June
13,) tlie same year. After mentioning the French naval force, he says, " How iU
a condition we are in to resist them, your majesty can judge. The fleet cannot
be at sea for tlu-ee weeks,— I fear not so soon; and though vice-admiral KUU-
grew be arrived at Plymouth, yet his ships are so foul, that he can't avoid tho
enemy if he should attempt to come up the Channel." It seems he was not
even in condition to run away.

MARY II. 253
opinion he communicated to the queen. Her proceedings
may be gathered from her letter to her husband : —
"Queen Makt to Kiua William.
"June 28, N.S., 8 in the morning; (July 8, O.S.)
" Seeing I cannot always write when I wiU, 1 must do it when I can, and
that upon something that happened yesterday. As for lord Torrington's letter,
you wiU have an account of that, and the answer from lord Nottingham. I
shall teU you, as far as I coiild judge, what the others did.
" Lord Carmarthen was with me, when lord Nottingham brought the letter :
he was mightUy hot upon sending Mr. RusseU down to the fleet. I confess I
saw, as I thought, the Ul-consequence of that, having heard you say they'^ were
not good friends, and heUevrng lord Torrington, being in the post he is in, and
of his humour, ought not to be provoked. Besides, I do beUeve lord president
[Carmarthen] was wUUng to be rid of Mr. RusseU, and 1 had no mind to that ;
so I said what I could against it, and found most of the lords of my mind when
they met, but lord Monmouth was not witb them. Mr. EusseU drew up a
pretty sharp letter for me to sign ; but it was softened, and the only dispute was,
' whether he [lord Torrington] should have a positive order to fight ?' At last,
it was wrote in such terms as you wUl see, to which all agreed but lord steward,
who said, ' it was his duty to teU his thoughts upon a subject of this con
sequence ;' which was, ' that he believed it very dangerous to trust lord Tor
rington with the fate of three kingdoms, (this was bis expression,) and that he
was absolutely of opinion that some other should be joined in commission with
him.' To which Mr. Russell answered, 'You must send for him prisoner, then;'
and all the rest concluded it would breed too much disturbance in the sight of
the enemy. So the letter was signed, and lord Nottingham writ another let
ter, in which he told him our other accounts received of the fleets from the Isle
of Wight." I was no sooner a-bed, but lord Nottingham came to me from the lords, who
were most of them stiU at his office, where lord Monmouth was come, very late,
hut time enough to know aU. He oflered his service immediately to go down
post to Portsmouth, (so that the admiralty would give him the commission of a
captain,) and fit out the best ship there, which he beUeves he can do with more
speed than another, with which he wiU join lord Torrington, and being in a
great passion, swears 'he wUl never come back again if they do not fight.'
Upon his earnest desire, and the approbation of the lords who were present, lord
Nottingham came up to ask my consent. I asked ' who was there ? ' and
finding few besides lord Monmouth and lord Nottingham, — I remember but the
names of three of them, which were the lord president, lord steward, and sir
John Lowther, hut the fourth was either lord Pembroke or lord Marlborough, —
I thought, in myself, they were two-thirds of the committee, so would carry it
if put to the vote ; therefore, seeing they were as earnest as he for it, I thought
I might consent."
Every post-day lord Monmouth brought to the queen and
her junta letters written in lemon-juice, which he declared
his friend, major Wildman, had intercepted. He began
to show these letters about four days before king WUliam
saUed for Ireland. They contained an abstract of every
' i. e. Torrington and RusseU.

254 MAEY II.
thing that was done by either the sovereigns or their minis
ters in the cabinet councU, of which lord Monmouth was
one. They were directed to " M. Contenay, Amsterdam."
The marquess of Carmarthen expressed his opinion to king
WiUiam that the letters were fabricated by lord Monmouth
himself, with the aid of major Wildman, in order to breed
doubts and strife in the queen's councU. Mary intimates
her own suspicions on the subject to her absent consort, in
the foUo-wing guarded terms : —
" I own to you that I bad a thought which I would not own, though I did
find some of the lords have the same, about the lemon letters (which I suppose
you have heard of) which comes so constantly, and are so very exact, the last of
which told even the debates of the committee as weU as if one of the lords
themselves had writ them. This, I think, looks somewhat odd, and I believe
makes many forward for this expedition ; and for my own part, I beUeve he
[Monmouth] may be best spared of the company. Though I think it a Uttle
irregularity, yet I hope you wiU excuse it, and nobody else can find fault.
" Ten at night. — Since my writing this, there has come a great deal of news.
As I was going to cabinet councU, sfr WiUiam Lockhart came with a letter from
the committee there. Lord Monmouth was there, after having been in the city,
where he has found one major Bom (I think his name is), who has the commis
sion of captain, and not himself, he desiring his intentions may be kept as secret
as may be, lest be should come too late ; in the mean time, bis regiment's bemg
at Portsmouth is the pretence. He [lord Monmouth] made great professions at
parting, and desfred me to believe there are some great designs."
This passage reveals remarkable differences in the customs
of England scarcely one century beyond the memory of man
in the present time. The professions of naval and mUitary
warfare were not separated. Lord Monmouth, whose regi
ment was stationed at Portsmouth, demanded of the queen
the command of a ship of the Une. Although many of these
land-officers had greatly distinguished themselves in the
mighty naval battles which made James II. sovereign of the
seas, (Monmouth being one among them,) yet James, in
his famous naval regulations, forbad any one to command
ships, -without such person had, to use his own term, " served
a proper apprenticeship to a naval life." His daughter did
not observe this exceUent rule, and a disgraceful naval defeat
was the consequence. Monmouth was desirous of taking
the whole command of the navy from the admiral who had
possession of it, a measm-e queen Mary demurred upon, not-
because soldiers ought not to command fieets, but because

MAEY II. 255
she doubted of Monmouth's fidelity.' Her majesty proceeds
thus : —
" We had another lemon letter, with things so particular that none but some
of the nine lords could know them, especially things that were done at our office
late last night ; upon which all sides are of the same mind. Before I went out
of the room, I received your dear letter from Lough Bricklin ; but I cannot
express what I then felt, and stiU feel, at the thoughts that now you may
be ready to give battle, or have done it. My heart is ready to burst. I can
say nothing, but pray to God for you. This has waked me, who was almost
asleep, and almost put out of the possibiUty of saying any thing more ; yet
must I strive with my heart to tell you, that this afternoon the iU news of the
battle of Fleury came. I had a letter from the prince of Waldeck, with a copy
of the account he sent you ; so that I can say nothing but that God, in whose
hands we only are, knows best why he has ordered it so, and to Him we must
submit. " This evening there has been a person with me, from whom you heard at
Chester, [probably earl of Breadalbane,] and whom you there ordered to come
to me, as he says 'he beUeves you wiU know him by this,' and wiU by no
means be named, and what is worse, wiU name nobody ; so 1 fear there is not
much good to be done, yet I won't give over so. I must end my letter, for my
eyes are at present in somewhat a worse condition than before I received your
letter. My impatience for another is as great as my love, which wUl not end
but with my Ufe, which is very uneasy to me at present; but I trust in God,
who can alone preserve and comfort me."
Among the other dangers which beset the queen's govern
ment, was an angry jealousy felt by many of her subjects,
lest the hated earl of Sunderland should have any sway in
her determinations. The precise time when the king and
queen thought him sufficiently purified from his late profes
sion of popery to appear at court has never been defined by
history. He returned incognito a few weeks before the coro
nation, but he was forced to keep much in the back-ground,
because the EngUsh people were unanimous in their resent
ment for his betrayal of king James. The public mind was
thus expressed : —
"On Sundeeland's cominq to Couet.
" 'Who could have thought that Rome's convert so near
The true protestant side of the queen should appear ?

' Among the causes of the decrepitude of the French monarchy in the last
century, even so lately as the reign of Louis X'VI., it was the custom to appoint
any courtier of high rank, albeit utterly unused to naval affairs, (who had, per
haps, never even seen a ship,) to command the French navy. See the anto-
biogi-aphy of that execrable coxcomb, the last duke of Lauzun, of his doings in
1773.

256 MAEY II.
Sure his highness' forgets both the time and the place
Since this statesman and lord were admitted to grace.
Howe'er, since 'tis plain
He this peer wUl retain.
We heartUy wish, for the good of his reign.
He may serve him as well as he did bis last master.
And stick quite as close in the case of disaster.
May this peer, and the rest of the learned and vrise
That are left here our wan, silent queen to advise.
Prove as true as before, — be like ChurchiU unmoved.
As watchful as Dorset, like Nottingham loved.
As just as Carmarthen,
Who never took farthing.
And as wise as the white dog of lady Fitzharding."'
It is probable that Monmouth wrote this formidable squib
as weU as the " lemon letters," for the sarcastic aUusion to
the queen's loquacity and rubicund complexion, by the
expression " our wan, sUent queen," proves that the author
was acquainted -with her personaUy, and was as weU aware
of her manners as of her complexion.
The disastrous news of the naval defeat at Beachy Head
is the chief subject of the queen's next letter. Again Mary
had " to strive with her heart," as she poeticaUy expresses
herself, and communicate to her royal lord the most signal
naval overthrow that England had ever experienced : —
" Queen Maet to KiNa William.
"'WhitehaU, (June 29, N.S.) July 7, O.S. 169C.
" Seven in the morning.
" I am sorry there is not as pleasing news to send you from hence as what I
had last from you. I would not write last by the post, being assured the mes
senger this morning should overtake him before they came to Highlake. Here
has been great things done, but so unanimously, that I hope, when you have an
exact account from lord Nottingham, you will approve ol it. I must confess I
think they were in the right ; but if I had not, I should have submitted my
judgment when I saw aU of a mind.
" What lord Torrington can say for himself I know not, but I beUeve he wiU
never be forgiven here. The letters from the fieet, before and since the engage
ment, show sufficiently he was the only man there who had no mind to fight,
and his not doing it was attributed to orders from hence, [i. e. from the councU].
Those [orders] which were sent and obeyed, have had but very Ul success, the
news of which is come this morning.
' King WiUiam, as prince of Orange.
2 The verses must belong to the regency of 1690, because ChurchiU (Marl
borough) was excluded from every other. Monmouth is the same person as
Pope's lord Peterborough, who wrote some poems in this metre.

MARY II. 257
"I wiU not stop the messenger with staying for my letter, and 'tis unneces
sary for me to say much, only as to the part of sending Mr. RusseU away. I
believe it was a great irregularity, and for my own part I was sorry to miss him
here, after what you had told me, and the fear I am in of being imposed
upon ; but aU were for it, and I could say nothing against it. I confess I was
as sorry lord Monmouth came so soon back, for all agree in the same opinion
of him."
The above letter was in answer to one which king WilUam
had sent, in remonstrance against RusseU being transferred
from his post in her councU to superintend the disabled
fleet, for the queen had eridently sent to recall him, since
she resumes, —
" Mr. RusseU was overtaken before he came to Canterbury, so the nine are
again together. As to the Ul success at sea, I am more concerned for tho honour
of the nation than for any thing else ; but I think it has pleased God to punish
them justly, for they reaUy talkt as if it were impossible they should be beaten,
wliich looks too much like trusting to the arm of flesh. I pray God we may no
more deserve the punishment; the same God who has done so much can teU-
what is best, and I trust he wiU do more than we deserve.
" This afternoon I am to go to the great councU, [privy councU,] to take
order about the prorogation of parUament, according to your orders. I long
again to hear from you, which is my only comfort. I fear this news may give
courage to those who retfred before, but God can disappoint them aU, and I hope
wiU take care of his own cause. He of his mercy send us a happy meeting
again ! that wiU he a happiness to me beyond all others, loving vou more than
my Ufe."
In her next letter, she continued the painful subject of
the defeat to king WUUam, who was daily expecting to
give battle to her father in Ireland : —
"Queen Maet to King- William. " "WHtehall, July ^.
" If you knew in what fear I am that my letter I writ yesterday morning
did not overtake the post, you would pity me, for though it is but one day's
difl'erence, yet I would not, for any thing, seem to have missed an opportunity of
wi-iting to you; and, indeed, as sleepy as I was a-T-aesday night I would have
writ, bad not lord Nottingham assured me the message should foUow the next
morning early, and so he was certain it would come time enough ; but when the
letter came in ti-om lord Torrington, and what was to be done being thought
necessary to acquaint you with, he stopt the messenger without teUing me."
The queen then describes to her husband' the proceedings
of her nine assistants, among whom she wished to choose
two, to send down to take charge of the remains of the
fleet,' whUe lord Torrington was displaced and brought to
' In the same letter, printed from king WiUiam's Kensington box by sfr John
Dalrymple. See his Appendix, pp. 126, 127.
VOL. VII, S

258 MARY n.
trial,' Lord Monmouth and Mr. Russell, the two professed
seamen of the junta, both excused themselves to the queen
from the ungracious office, — Monmouth, because he was
related to the deUnquent, and was not to command the
fleet. RusseU declined because he had served for many
years under Torrington as his officer, " therefore," pursues
queen Mary, in the phraseology of the times, "it would
seem something indecent in him to be forward in offering
his service in this particular."
Queen Mary, in this dUemma, turned to her lord cham
berlain, and then to lord Marlborough, who both told her,
very truly, "that they should make themselves ridiculous
if they interfered in sea matters." On this, the queen
herself named lord Devonshire and lord Pembroke ; but at
the same time she observed lord president Carmarthen
"look very black, and found that he wished to undertake
the commission himself." She drew him aside, after her
consultation broke up, and told him "she could not spare
him from his post, as king WilUam had informed her he
was the person whose advice she was most to rely upon."
He repUed, "he did not look upon himself as so tied."
Her majesty remarks, — " There is another thing that I
must acquaint you with, by-the-by, that I beUeve wUl anger
him [Carmarthen], which is, that neither Mr. Hampden nor
Mr. Pelham wiU sign the docket for lady Plymouth's 8000/.
He complained to me; I promised to ask them about it,
which I have done, and both of them asunder have told
me 'the sum was too great to be spared at present, when
money was so much wanted,' and, indeed, I think they
are in the right. I hope you wUl let me know your mind
' He was not tried tiU the succeeding December, when a court-martial wa3
held upon him at Sheemess, and he was unanimously acquitted. He was the
man who led the Dutch fleet through the Downs at WUliam's invasion. He
was most unjustly treated in regard to all this odium, as the ships were utterly
out of condition, and the men in want of every necessary, as food, ammunition,
&c. He withdrew into obscurity and disgi-ace. — Dafrymple's Appendix. On
his death, the title of Torrington was speedily granted to admiral Bj-ng, a
commander whom James II. bad drawn from obscurity. The similarity of title
and profession in these two admirals, who were contemporaries, causes great
confusion in the history of the Revolution.

MARY II. 259
about it ; but they say sfr Stephen Fox signed it by sur
prise, and is of their mind. The only thing I could say to
this was, ' that you had signed the warrant before you went,
which I thought was enough,' " Thus this mysterious order
for so large a mass from the public money is proved to have
originated whoUy from king WiUiam. It was equaUy dis
tasteful to his "wife and his ministers. The queen proceeded
to say, " By adrice, I writ a letter to admiral Evertzen, but
I forgot to tell you so, and not kno"wing he spoke English,
¦with much ado I "writ it in Dutch, so as I believe he could
have understood me; but 'tis come back to be burnt."
What a Uterary curiosity this Dutch letter of English
Mary would have proved, if it had not, very provokingly
to autograph collectors, " come back to be burnt !"
The next paragraph of Mary's narrative mentions inter
riews with her reputed lover, lord Shrewsbury, who might
be considered (when all his advantages were computed)
the mightiest power among the aristocracy of Great Britain.
He was, at this juncture, a displaced prime-minister, yet
displaced by his own obstinate renunciation of office : —
" Lord Shrewsbury was at my dinner. I told him ' I was glad to see him so
weU again ;' he said, ' He had been at Epsom for the air, or else he would
have been here sooner.' He stayed not long, but went away with Mr. "Wharton,
who I have not seen once at councU, and hut seldom any where. Lord Shrews
bury was here again at my supper, and as I thought took pains to talk, which I
did to him as formerly, by your directions. Though by my letter, it may be,
you would not think me in so much pain as I am, yet I must teU you I am very
much so, but not for what lord Monmouth would have me be. He daily teUs
me of the great dangers we are in, and now has a mind to be sent to HoUand,
(of which you wUl hear either this, or the next post). I see every one is
inclined to it, for a reason I mentioned before, and, indeed, things have but a
melancholy prospect."
It seems ambiguous whether Mary means that all her poli
tical assistants proved alarmists and endeavoured to intimi
date her, like lord Monmouth ; or whether, as he did, they
all "wished to seek refuge in HoUand. In whichever way
the sense is taken, it affords strong proof that Mary's
courage was firm, when the leading spfrits of England
quailed before the expected storm.
" I am fully persuaded," she continues, " that God wiU do some great thing
or other, and, it may be, when human means faU he wiU show his powei,. This
8 2

260 MAEY II.
makes me that I cannot be so much afraid as, it may be, I have reason for; but'
that which makes me in pain is, for fear what is done may not please yon. I
am sure it is my chief desire, but you know I must do what the others think fit,
and I think they all desire, as much as may be, to act according to your mind.
I long to bear from you, and know in what we have felled. For my own part,
if I do in any thing what you don't like, 'tis my misfortune and not my fetilt,
for I love you more than my life, and desfre only to please you."
The queen's next letter is a hurried one, written under'
the influence of sadness. She was suffering from disease
in her eyes, and is perforce obliged to confine the limits
of her despatch to affectionate expressions : —
" Queen Maet to Kino William. " WhitehaU, July ^, 1690.
" This is only to tell you I have received yours of the 28th of .June, old
style, which puts me in so many troubles, that I shall not trouble you with at
present. To-morrow night an express shaU go to you that cannot possibly be
despatehed to-night; and I am not sorry, for at this time I dare say but little
by candleUght, and 'tis, to-morrow, the first Sunday of the montlL* I have
reaUy hardly had time to say my prayers, and was fain to run away to Kensing
ton, where I had three hours of quiet, which is more than I have had together
since I saw you. That place made me think how happy I was there when I had
your dear company ; but now — I wiU say no more, for I shaU hurt my own
eyes, which I want more than ever.
" Adieu ! think of me, and love me as much as I shall you, roSo I love more
than my life. I should have sent this last post, but not seeing madame Nien-
huys hindered me then, and makes me send it now, which I hope you wUl
excuse." Thus it is evident that the queen dared not give vent to
her overcharged heart by tear.s, because weeping would in
jure her eyes. Her anxiety was increased the next day,
by the tidings that her husband had been wounded in one
of the skirmishes that preceded the hourly expected battle
in Ireland:' — " Queen Maet to Kino William. " WhitehaU, July ,»p 1690.
" I can never give God thanks enough, as long as I Uve, for your preservation.
I hope, in his mercy, that this is a sign he preserves you to finish the work he
has begun by you ; but I hope it may be a warning to you, to let you sec you
are exposed to as many accidente as others ; and though it has pleased God to
keep you once in so visible a manner, yet you must forgive me if I teU you, that
I shoidd think it a-temptvng God to venture again without a great necessity. I
know what I say of this kind will be attributed to fear. I own I have a great
deal for your dear person, yet I hope I am not unreasonable upon the sulgect, for
' She means to intimate, that she was to receive the sacrament then.
' A brief sketeh of the war in Ireland had place in vol. vi. ; Life of Mary
Beatrice of Modena.

MAEY IL 261
I do trust in God, and he is pleased every day to confirm me more and more in
the confidence I have in him ; yet my fears are not less, smce I cannot tell if it
should be his wiU to suffer you to come to harm for our sins, for though God is
able, yet many times he punishes the sins of a nation as it seems good in his
sight. " Your writing me word how soon you hoped to send me good news, shows
me how soon you thought there might be some action, and this thought puts
me in perpetual pain. This morning, when I heard the express was come,
before lord Nottingham came up, I was taken with a trembling for fear, which
has hardly left me yet, and I reaUy don't know what to do. Your letter came
just before I went to chapel, and though the first thing that lord Nottingham
told me was that you were very weU, yet the thoughts that you expose yom-self
thus to danger fright me out of my wits, and make me not able to keep
my trouble to myself. For God's sake, let me beg you to take more care for
the time to come. Consider what depends upon your safety : there are so many
more important things than myself, that I thmk I am not worthy naming
among them ; but, it may be, the worst may be over before this time, so that I
wiU say no more.
" I did not answer your letter by the post last night, because the express
could not be despatched ; I can say little on any subject at present, for really I
had my head and heart so fuU of you, I could mmd nothing else. It is now
past ten o'clock. I don't teU it you for an excuse, for I am not sleepy."
The expectation of a battle between her father and her
husband's forces in Ireland, and the alarm regarding the
wound the latter had received, had the effect of keeping
her majesty queen Mary wide awake at the hour of past
ten o'clock, which was eridently the time usual for thefr
high mightinesses in HoUand to go to bed, or to roost,
according to the Dutch language; for, in the course of
this correspondence, she often mentions "that it is ten
o'clock, and that she is so sleepy she cannot "write." It
may be observed that, in the commencement of this letter,
her majesty dwells with mUch spfritual unction on the
possibility "that her husband's wound was sent as a risita-
tion for the sins of the British nation." She proceeds to
ask the king's dfrections for the command of the fleet,
which remained still unsettled. Lord Monmouth claimed
the command, of which Torrington had been deprived;
but Mary was fully aware of his Jacobite tendencies, and
suspecting that his confidant, major WUdman, was author
of the letters "written in lemon-juice, she declined his
serrices. She "wished to appoint Russell, but he positively
refused. Sir Richard Haddick and sir John Ashby were
proposed by the councU ; but sfr Richard Haddick wished

262 MAEY II.
the office might be put in commission, "vrith two seamen
and one man of quaUty. And the queen adds, he thought
that person might be the duke of Grafton; first, because
he had " behaved lately ' very brave ' in this last business,"
[i. e., the defeat at Beachy Head,] and also "that he might
learn, and so in time prove good for something,'" — a plain
indication that she did not consider this iUegitimate cousin
good for much without improvement. 'WhUe discussing the
difficult matter of naval command, she observes to the king
"that Shovel was considered the best officer of his age."
He had just taken her father's only remaining frigate.
The news of the long-expected battle arrived the next
day. The rictory at Boyne Water obUterated from the
public mind the recent defeat of the British navy. The
disastrous naval defeat occurred on the 30th of June;' the
land rictory took place the very day after, July 1st, but, as
may be perceived by this correspondence, the queen did not
receive the news untU a week had elapsed.
"Queen -Maet to Kin& William. " Whitehall, July ^, 1690.
" How to begin this letter I don't know, or how ever to render to God thanks
enough for his mercies, — indeed, they are too great if we look on our deserts ;
but, as you say, ' 'tis his own cause,' and since 'tis for the glory of his great
name, we have no reason to fear but he wiU perfect what he has begun. For
myself in particular, my heart is so fuU of joy and acknowledgment to that
great God who has preserved you, and given you such a victory, that I am
unable to explain it. I beseech him to give me grace to be ever sensible as I
ought, and that I and aU may Uve suitable to such a mercy as this is. I am
sorry the fleet has done no better, but 'tis God's providence, and we must not
murmur, but wait with patience to see the event. I was yesterday out of my
senses witb trouble. I am now almost so with joy, so that I can't reaUy as yet
teU what I have to say to you by this bearer, who is impatient to return. I
hope in God, by the afternoon, to be in a condition of sense enough to say much
more, but for the present I am not."
If noveUsts or dramatists had been describing the situa
tion of queen Mary, they would, according to the natural
feeUngs of humanity, have painted her as distracted between
tenderness for her father, and her love for her husband, —
' Grafton had hut a short time left " to learn and prove good for something,"
for he was kiUed a few months afterwards at the seige of Cork, under Marl
borough, fighting as a land soldier.
2 Old style, by which aU English history is dated tUl the middle of the last
century.

MAEY IL 263
mourning amidst rictory for her sfre, and aUve only to the
grief that such unhaUowed contests should awaken in the
bosom of the woman who had been the indulged daughter
of the one antagonist, and was the -wife of the other. Such
feelings were attributed by the Greek tragedians to -vfrtuous
heathens of old, and by Shakspeare to the royal heroines
of England's earUer day ; but no trace of them is to be dis
cerned in Mary's actual letters. Unmixed joy and exiUting
thanksgiring are the first emotions which burst from her
heart in this epistolary Te Deum. Towards the end of the
letter, however, she recoUects herself sufficiently to express
her satisfaction that the " late king," as she calls her father,
was not among the slain, a passage which wUl be read with
intense interest by those who know Mary's situation, but
who are utterly in the dark regarding her o-wn opinion of
her extraordinary position in the world. The queen re
sumes, after she has given vent to her joy, —
" "When I writ the foregoing part of this, it was ia the morning, soon after I
had received yours, and 'tis now four in the afternoon ; but I am not yet come
to myself, and fear I shaU lose this opportunity of writing aU my mind, for I am
StiU in such a confusion of thought that I scarce know now what to say, hut I
hope Ul God you wiU more readily consent to what lord president wrote last, for
methinks you have nothing more for you to do.
" I wiU hasten Kensington as much as it's possible, and I wiU also get ready
for yon here, for I wiU hope you may come before that is done. I must put you
in mind of one thing, beUeving it is now the season ; which is, that you would
take care of the church in Ireland. TSvery body agrees 'tis the worst in Chris
tendom. There are now bishoprics vacant, and other things ; I beg you will
take time to think who you wiU fiU them with. You wiU forgive me that I
trouble you with this now, but I hope you wiU take care of these things, which
are of so great consequence as to religion, which I am sure ^viU be more your
care every day, now it has pleased God stiU to bless you with success.
" I think I have told you before how impatient I am to hear how you approve
what has been done here. I have but little part in it myself, but I long to hear
how others have pleased you. I am very uneasy in one thing, which is, want of
somebody to speak my mind freely to, for 'tis a great restraint to think and he
sUent, and there is so much matter, that I am one of king Solomon's fools, who
am ready to burst. I believe lord president and lord Nottingham agree very
weU, though I beUeve the first pretends to govern all ; and I see the other [lord
Nottingham] is always ready to yield to him, and seems to me to have a great
deal of deference for him: whether they always agree or not, I cannot teU. Lord
Marlborough is much with them, and loses no opportunity of coming upon all
occaaons with the others. As yet I have not found them differ, or at least so
Uttle, that I was surprised to find it so, (I mean the whole nine,) tor it has
never come to put any thing to the vote ; but I attribute that to the great
danger I believe'aU have apprehended, which has made them aU of a mind."

264 MAEY II.
Great natural sagacity is shown by the queen in her
remarks on the unwonted unanimity of her councillors.
The whole of her cabinet had so far committed themselves
with king James, that they were obliged to unite in one
common purpose to prevent his return, which they knew
would ruin them. Mary likewise adopted a very rational
idea of the origin of the intercepted letters written in lemon-
juice, which was suggested to her by Mr. Russell, that they
were written on purpose to be intercepted, and to raise vain
suspicions and doubts in the councillors towards each other.
WhUe lord Monmouth and his colleague Wildman were
away at the fleet, these letters ceased, but directly they
returned, the correspondence recommenced. Yet, totally
unconscious of the conclusions the queen had drawn, lord
Monmouth sedulously seized the opportunity of every con
ference he held with her to insinuate distrusts of his col
leagues, which her majesty thus detaUed to her partner in
regality: —
" I had a conversation with lord Monmouth, t'other morning, in which he
said, ' What a misfortune it was that things thus went ill, which was certainly
by the faults of those that were in trust; that it was u melancholy thing to the
nation to see themselves thus thrown away. And, to speak plain,' said be, ' do
not you see how all you do is known p that what is said one day in the cabinet-
council, is wrote next day to Prance ? For my part," added he, ' I must speak
plainly. I have a great deal of reason to estociii lord Nottingham; I don't
believe 'tis he, but 'tis some in his office,' — and then ho fcU on Mr. Blaithwit,
I owned ' I wondered why you would let him serve here, since he would not go
with you ;' but I said, ' 1 supposed you knew why you did it.' And when he,
lord Monmouth, began to talk high of iU-administration, I told him in the same
freedom that he seemed to speak to me, 'tliat I timnd it very strange you were
not thought fit to choose your own ministers. That they had already removed
lord Halifax, tho same endeavours were used for lord Carmarthen, and would
they now begin to have a bout ut lord Nottingham too ? I would show they
would pretend even to control the king in his choice, which, if I were he, I
would not suifer, but would make use of whom I pleased.'
" I can't teU if I did well or no In this, but in the free way we were speaking
I could not help it. Upon this, ho [lord Monmouth] said, ' He had, indeed,
been an enemy to lord HaUfiix, but he IkuI done what he could do to save lord
Carmarthen out of personal friendship, as well as because he believed him firm
to our interest. Upon which 1 took occasion to remember my obUgations to
liiiii [lord Carmarthen'] ' upon account of our marriage;' from which he [lord
Monmouth] stiU went on, ' that he thought it necessary the nation should be
satisfied.' I asked him ' if he thought that possible ?' He said ho could tell

"When he was lord Danby, one of tho ministers of Charles II.

MAEY II, 265
me much on that sulgect ; but we were called to council, and so our discourse
ended for that time,"
The reader wUl observe, in this coUoquy, how fiercely the
queen resented the shadow of an attack on her friend and
lord chamberlain, lord Nottingham, She shows, too, resent
ment because lord Halifax had been displaced from the
ministry, and her expressions are in thorough contradiction
to the resentment king WUliam affirmed she bore that lord
for his personal ridicule of her father. Queen Mary proceeds
to give her absent husband a rapid sketch of the charac
teristics and conduct of the chief of her councillors : —
" As for lord Pembroke, I never see him but in council. Lord cham [Shrews
bury'] comes as little as he can with decency, and seldom speaks, but he never
comes to the cabinet council. Lord stuard, [Devonshire,] you know, wiU be a
coui-tier among ladies. Speaking of him puts me in mind that M. Sesak, before
we went to cards, came and made me a very handsome compUment on your
victory and wound, and assured me 'no man Uving wished us a longer and
happier reign.' But to return to that lord, who'' — I think I have named aU.
I must say once my opinion, that lord Nottingham seems to be very hearty in
all affairs ; and, to my thinking, appears to be sincere, though he does not take
much pains to persuade me of it upon all occasions, as others do, for he never
spoke but once of himself, yet I confess I incline to have a good opinion of him.
It may be his formal grave look deceives me. He brought mo your letter yes
terday, and I could not hold ; so he saw me cry, which I have hindered myself
before every body tiU then. Then it was impossible.
" And this morning, when I heard the joyful news from Mr. Butler, I was in
pain to know what was become of the late king, [meaning her father, James II.]
and durst not ask him ; but when lord Nottingliam came, 1 did venture to do it,
and had tho satisfaction to hear he was safe. I know I need not beg you to let
him be taken care of, for I am confident you wUl for your own sake ; yet add
that to all your kindness, and, for my sake, let people know you would have no
hurt come to his person. Forgive me this."
In this last paragraph is comprised all that can, with
truth, be urged in Mary^s rindication regarding the reports
of her alleged parricidal instigations against the life of her
father, which had been previously brought to that hapless
parent's ears. Her solo defence rests on the passage above
mentioned, in which, nevertheless, she can find no kinder
' Great-chamberlain. Tho double regality made a perplexing duplication of
state-offices and officers ; for instance, lord Nottingham was not Mary's lord
chamberlain as queen-consort, but held a place of more responsibiUty as lord
chamberlain to her as a queen-regnant.
" This is as the queen wrote it ; she has, through some interruption, left the
construction of the sentence defective. By thai lord, she means Monmouth, and
veciiTB to his insinuations against her friend lord Nottingham,

266 MAEY n.
name than "the late king" for the author of her being;
and, "withal, asks " forgiveness," as if such cold and unnatural
expressions were too kind towards her unfortunate sfre.
" I have writ this," resumes Mary, in her letter, " at so many times, that I
fear you wUl hardly make sense of it, I long to hear what you wiU say to the
proposition that will he sent you this night by the lords, and I do flatter myself
mightUy with the hopes to see you, for which I am more impatient than can be
expressed, loving you with a passion which cannot end but with my life,"
The " proposition" on which the queen dwells "with such
fond interest was, that the king, having broken the Jacobite
army, should return instantly to England, William was
too good a general not to be aware that the battle of the
Boyne, if attention had been fixed solely on its physical
advantages, was far from decisive of the contest. The
praises of WiUiam III.'s great valour in this battle have re
sounded throughout Europe ; but he had in Ireland 30,000
regular and discipUned troops, — he had the most formidable
train of artUlery in the world at his command. Surely, the
very act of looking such a formidable force in the face, as
opponents, was one of superior valour in the Ul-armed, and
undisciplined, and unpaid militia who fought for James,
That unfortunate king has been called a coward on account
of its loss, which, indeed, made good his own representa
tions in his naval regulations, " that a whoUy different genius
is required for marine and land warfare," Every one to his
profession. The battle of the Boyne was won by a furious
charge of cavalry, and we never heard that EngUsh saUors
were particularly skUful in equestrian evolutions,' or that a
British admiral ought to be caUed a coward because he was
not an adroit general of horse. When the sailor-king met
the Dutch on his own element, history gave a different
account of him. The cavafry tactics of WiUiam would have
' Lord Dartmouth, a favourite naval pupU of James, observes that the kmg
had made him renounce the land-service for ever ; saying, " If he serves not out
his naval apprenticeship, and forgets not his land-fashions, I wUl trust him with
no ship of mine." Lord Dartmouth, in one of his interesting letters to Jaines
IL, when admfral of the fleet at the crisis of the Eevolution, writes, " I have
sent your majesty a despatch by a Scotch sailor on horseback; but what has
become of either m&n or horse I know not, for you weU know, sfre, that we
saUors are not quite so skilful witb horses as with ships,"

MAEY IL 267
avaUed him as Httle on the seas.' That most mysterious
politician, Defoe, although a Dutchman by descent, in his
Memofrs of Captain Carlton, first called on EngUshmen to
notice this point, and remarks the injustice and ingratitude
of condemning thefr greatest admiral as a coward, because
he was not equaUy skilful in a cavalry-skirmish.
The standards and other spoils taken from king James at
the battle of the Boyne, were by his daughter ordered to be
carried in triumphant procession, and finaUy hung up in St.
James's chapel, as stimulants to her devotions. Great was
the indignation of her father's old friends and companions
in arms at this proceeding. One of them has preserved its
memory in an epigram, entitled, —
"ON SEEING THE COLOUES HUNG IN St. JaMES'S ChAPEL,'
" Walking the park I, to my horror, there ,
Saw what from hardest hearts might force a tear, \
The trophies of a monarch openly
Displayed in scorn before each vulgar eye, —
A crime which Absalom did never do.
Did ever he to every cobbler show
The reUcs of his father's overthrow ?"
The author then urged king James to hurl his malediction
on his daughter, not knowing that the awful denunciation
had afready mingled ¦with the splendours of her coronation,
Charles Montague, earl of Halifax, wrote a long poem on
the battle of the Boyne, in heroic verse. It consists of the
most lofty eulogiums on WilUam, without either naming or
aUuding to his antagonist. After lauding his valour and
generosity, he leaves it in complete mystery against whom
he fought, and but for the word " Boyne," no one could
ever guess the subject. He sums up with the presumption,
that if WiUiam had been a Frenchman, France would have
said and done more to his honour and glory than ungrateful
EngUshmen deemed necessary : —
" Thefr plays, thefr songs, would dweU upon his wound.
And operas repeat no other sound;
Boyne woidd for ages be the painter's theme.
The Goblin's labour,^ and the poet's dream;
' MS. of sfr Eobert Strange.
- Probably meaning the name of GobeUn, the tapestry-worker.

268 MAEY II.
The wounded arm would furnish aU thefr rooms.
And bleed for ever scarlet ia thefr looms.'
* » « * «
The queen, the charming queen herself, should grace
The noble piece, and in an artfiil place
Soften war's horrors with her lovely face.
"Who can omit the queen's auspicious smUe,
The pride of the fair sex, the goddess of our isle ?
"Who can forget what all admfred of late.
Her fears for him, her prudence for the state ?
Dissembling cares, she smooth'd her looks with grace.
Doubts in her heart, and pleasure in her face;
As danger did approach, her courage rose.
And putting on the king, dismay'd his foes."
The last couplets present a true picture of the queen's per
sonal demeanour at this tremendous crisis. Her efforts
" to grin when her heart was bursting," according to her
expressions in her letters, were seen by by-standers in the
Ught she wished,
"Queen Maet to King William,
""WhitehaU, July ,'5, 1690,
" Being resolved never to miss a post, I write now to let you know I have
received yours by Mr. Grey, -H'ho came at nine in the morning, and was dressing
tiU one before be brought it. To-morrow I think to write again by him.
Now I shaU teU you that I have been satisfied with the sight of lord Lincoln,
which I have so often wished for in vain. I met him as I came from prsyers,
with a hundred people at least after him. I can't represent to you my surprise
at so unexpected an object, and so strange a one; but what he said was as much
so, if it were possible. He called lord president [Carmarthen] by name, (and aU
in general who are in tmst) ' rogues ;' told me ' I must go back with him to
council [privy council] to hear his complaint,' which I think was against lord
Torrington. He talked so Uke a madman that 1 answered him as calmly as I
could, looking on him as such, and so with much ado got from him.
" I shaU say no more now, but that I am so sleepy I can't see; but I shall
live and die entirely „ . .
¦^ " Your's."
The unfortunate noble who was thus met by queen Mary
-with a rabble at his heels, to whom he was addressing his
wayward ideas on poUtics, was Edward, the last earl of
Lincoln of the elder line of CUnton. It is plain by this
amusing little letter of the queen, that her curiosity had
been excited by the reported eccentricities of that peer,
but that she did not expect so strange an encounter in her
' In aUusion to the scratch which WiUiam received in the commencement
of the action.

MAEY IL 269'
progress to "WhitehaU chapel. The earl of Lincoln then
seated himself in WhitehaU gaUery,' bawUng out to every
,ne, " that the queen was shut up by three or four lords,
who would not let her appear at the pri"vy councU, or suffer
her nobles to have access to her," — "although," as the
queen herself observed, " he never asked it aU the whUe."
He was eridently incited to torment the whig junta of nine,
by whose counsels her majesty was impUcitly guided, instead
of ha"\Tng recourse to the privy councU. The troubles in
which the queen was involved are best described by her o"wn
pen: — " "WhitehaU, July ^, 1690.
" I wrote to you o-Tuesday night by the post, only to show that I would miss
no opportunity of doing it, and have kept Mr. Grey ever since, having nothing
worth writing or troubling you with. I shaU now begin with answering your
letter to him by him, and thank God with aU my soul for the continuance of
your good success, and hope you wiU have no more to do but come back here,
where you are wished for by all that love you or themselves, — ^I need not say
most by me ; it would be a wrong of me to suppose you doubt it.
" If the first part of your letter was extreme welcome, the next was not less
so, for next to knowing of your health and success, that of your being satisfied
with what has been done here is the best news, and tiU then I was very much in
pain. You wUl see, also, that we have had the good fortune here to have done
just as you would have had it yourself, in sending Mr. RusseU down to the fleet;
hut that was prevented, as you wiU know before this. I told Mr. EusseU what
your design was there, and asked ' what I might write on it now ? ' He told
me ' he should be always ready to serve you any way,' and seemed mightUy
pleased at what I had told him. I did not say it openly at the committee, [the
councU of nine,] because I know how much lord Monmouth would have been
troubled ; but I told lord president as you writ him word, and lord Nottingham,
and lord Marlborough. It seems he [EusseU] stUl wishes for a commission to
other people, and not to be alone. The day that I received yours by Mr. Grey,
which was on Tuesday noon, the great council was caUed extraordinarily, being
thought fit to acquaint them with the good news."
By the " great councU," the queen means to designate the
privy councU, which the king and his ministers had warned
her from attending often. The members conceived thefr
functions were unconstitutionaUy superseded by a body bear
ing some resemblance, at least in name, to the Venetian
" councU of ten."
Mary was placed in a situation of the most exquisite diffi
culty, which no person could have passed through "without
¦ The reader must remember that the great palace of WhitehaU, the seat of
royalty and government, was not yet burnt do>vn.

270 MAEY II.
imminent danger, excepting one who possessed her peculiar
concentrativeness of purpose. Had she felt an atom of
kindUness to father, sister, brother, nephew, or friend, or
even a particle of egotism or personal ambition which was
not centered in that second self, her ungracious and ungrace
ful Uttle partner, she could not have steered the vessel of
state steadily enough to have avoided the shoals of the oU-
garch faction on the one side, and the rocks of Jacobitism
on the other. She Ukewise had to dread the poUtical jea
lousy of her spouse, however weU she might govern, if she
put herself too forward in her function of queen-regnant.
This dread is apparent in the continuation of her narrative,
where she expresses her reluctance to attend the privy coun
cil, and describes the stormy scene raised therein because
she had hitherto denied her presence, according to her hus
band's orders : —
" Seeing you had left me to the advice of the committee of nine when to go,
[to the privy cohncU,] I asked them iu the morning, ' If they thought it neces
sary ? that, for my part, I did not.' Lord president Cai-marthen said, ' No.'
In the afternoon, when the privy councU met, aU began, it seems, to ask ' if I
came?' The lord president Carmarthen said, 'No.' Upon which, there were
some who grumbled. Sfr E. Howard made a formal speech, wherein he hinted
many things, as if he thought it not reasonable that I did not come to privy
councU. He was seconded by the duke of Bolton."
That afternoon faction ran very high in the pri"vy councU.
In the midst of the murmurs on account of her majesty's
absence, lord Monmouth and the lord steward [Devonshfre]
thought proper to leave thefr seats at the council-board and
enter her private apartments, where they began to entreat
her to accompany them back, to appease the malcontents.
The queen, who shrewdly suspected lord Monmouth to be
the secret mover of the storm, and dreading the displeasure
of her husband if she appeared too often at the more pubhc
council, thus expresses herself in the dUemma : —
" I was surprised at it, for they sent for me out of my closet. I wUl not
trouble you with aU they said, but they were very pressiog; and lord steward
[Devonshire] told me there were many there, who absolutely told him 'they
would not spealc but before me ; that they were privy councUlors established by
law, and did not know why they should be denied my presence.'
" I answered them [i. e. Devonshire and Monmouth] at first as civiUy as I
could, and as calmly; but bemg much pressed, I grew a Uttle peevish, and told
them ' that, between us, I must own I thought it a humour [caprice] in some

MAEY IL 271
there, [of the privy council,] which I did not think myself bound to please ; for,
should I come now for this, I should at last be sent for when any body had a
mind to it, and that I wondered they, who had heard me in the morning say I
would not come, should now be so importunate.' But all I could say would not
satisfy them, and had not lord Nottingham come in, I beUeve they would not
have left me so soon. I cannot teU if I did well or no, but I think I did. This
was the same day lord Lincoln was here, as I -wrote you word before, and he sat
in the gaUery crying aloud ' that five or six lords shut ¦ me up, and would let
nobody else come near me,' yet never asked it all the time.
" Lord Nottingham wiU give you an account of lord mayor's being caUed
next day to the great council, [privy councU,] where I was ; but I must needs
observe that he came with his answer ready wrote, and puUed out his paper and
read it. Upon which, many of those who came with him looked upon one
another as amazed, and the more because the lord president did not desfre it tUl
Friday."The queen suspected some treachery in the singular circum
stance that the 'lord mayor ' brought his speech ready written
in his pocket, and pulled it out, and read it to her. Her
majesty was not quite so familiar with speeches ready cut
and dried as her successors have been : this was one of the
first experiments of the kind, and queen Mary confessed
herself amazed at the proceeding.
The members of the pri-vy council were bent on protecting
those Jacobite lords who had been marked down by herself
and council for imprisonment and prosecution. A plot was
maturing in Scotland which gave great uneasiness to WUUam
and Mary, and, in conjunction ¦with the French invasion,
might have wrecked thefr government, if the leaders, lord
Annandale and lord Breadalbane, had not severally risited
the king and queen, and made thefr confessions, to the dis
comfiture of thefr colleagues. Lord Ross, then in London,
was one of those betrayed. Queen Mary thus expresses
herself regarding his apprehension : " Another thing hap
pened that I must teU : lord Nottingham had secui'ed lord
Rosse, and now desfred the [pri-vy] councU that he might be
sent to the Tower, as weU as so many others. All consented.
Duke of Bolton asked 'Why?' Lord Nottingham said
'There was informations against him; and more, his own
letters to sfr John Cochrane ;' upon which aU said a warrant
should be drawn. But when it came to be signed, duke of
Bolton would not ; he hindered lord Devon by a whisper.

^72 MAEY II.
and his son by a nod,' Lord Montague would not sign it
neither. If this be usual I cannot teU, but methinks it
ought not to be so,"
Her majesty continues in her letter to discuss, in no very
perspicuous terms, the half-revealed Jacobite plot in Scot
land, and mentioned the opinion of her "junta of nine,"
that sir James Montgomery,' a whig lately turned Jacobite,
who was deeply concerned in the plot, " ought to be arrested
and sent from Scotland, for he was crafty and malicious, and
his confessions, if listened to, would impUcate honest per
sons;" meaning, doubtless, by 'honest persons,' not only
various members of the now discontented oUgarchy who
had aided in the revolution, but most of themselves, — the
queen's assistant junta. Many traces are to be found in
Mary's letters of the suspension of the habeas corpus act;
and if we may judge by the glee -vrith which she mentions
persons being now " clapt up " who were fiuttering in the
park but a few hours before, she had some satisfaction in the
exertion of this despotism.
Jacobitism was, in the year 1690, so frequent in every-day
life, that it was a common occurrence to see a messenger
enter a house, a theatre, or Hyde-park, show a privy council
warrant to some gallant, aU embroidery, cravat, and ruffle,
and march him off, bewigged and befringed as he was, from
among a circle of belles to the Tower. If not seriously
implicated in any of the numerous plots then in active con
coction, either in Scotland or England, the prisoner was let
out, after some weeks' detention, much impoverished in
purse by his visit to the grim fortress, for no one in the
' Lord Ross seems to have married a daughter of Eachel lady Eussell, and
was in consequence closely connected with the family of Cavendish and theu-
powerful alUances. He is frequently mentioned famUiarly in the manuscript
letters in the Devonshire Papers,
2 Sfr James Montgomery had been in strong opposition to James II, during
his reign : he was one of the principal deputies who had brought the offer of
the Scottish crown to WiUiam and Mary. He became malcontent, as weU as
the other revolutionist leaders, Breadalbane, Annandale, and Ross, because his
desfre of gain was not sufficiently satisfied. He had therefore joined the Jacobite
plot of 1689, which was disorganized by the death of Dundee at KiUiecrankie.
(See Dalrymple's Memoirs and Appendix.)

MAEY IL 273
seventeenth century was freed from the Tower at less than
the cost of 200?. in fees and other expenses. So common
was this manoeu-vre in the reign of WiUiam and Mary, that
the matter-of-fact comedies of the day make these arrests,
either feigned or real, incidents for the purpose of removing
rivals, or furnishing adventures to the hero of the piece. In
iUusfration of these traits of the times may be quoted a pas
sage fi'om an original letter of sfr George Rooke,' who seems
not a Uttle scandalized at the conduct of one of queen
Mary's captives, when her majesty was pleased to sign a
pri-vy-councU warrant for his Uberation. "I could easUy
beUeve that my lord Falkland was very much transported
with his release from the Tower, but did not think that he
would leap from thence into a ball."
Jacobite poetry had formed a powerful means of offence
against the revolutionary government. It had originated in
opposition to the faction which stiove to exclude James IL,
when duke of York, from the throne. The first Jacobite
songs, " York, our great admfral," and " We'U stand to oux
landlord as long as we 've breath," were decidedly of EngUsh
composition; but the subject was caught up in the more
musical and poetical land beyond the Tweed. Numerous
Jacobite lyrics were adapted to the rhythm of the exquisite
melodies of Scotland. Some were tender in pathos ; others
bold and biting in satfre. There was one of the latter,
•written by the hefr of Lothian, which dashed at the points
on which the four persons of the royal famUy in England
were most Uable to censure, and combined them in one fierce
couplet : — " There's Mary the damghter, there's WiUy the cheater.
There's Gcordie the drinker, there's Annie the eater."
Another party-song took its rise within a few months
of the accession of WUUam and Mary. It was hummed
by every voice, and being set to a bold original afr, haunted
every ear, although it was but a burst of audacious dog-
geref: — ' In the MS. coUection of his grace the duke of Devonshire.
VOL. VII. T

274 MAEY II.
" Ken ye the rhyme to porringer ? '
Ken ye the rhyme to porringer ?
I King James the Seventh had ae daughter.
And he gave her to an Granger.
Ken ye how he requited him ?
Ken ye how he requited him ?
The dog has into England come.
And ta'en the crown in spite of him !
The rogue he sal na keep it lang.
To budge we'U make him fain again j
We'U hang him high upon a tree.
King James shaU ha'e his ain again !"
The plaintive and elegant Jacobite songs of this period
are not numerous. The exquisite one, both in words and
melody, by Ogilvie of Inverquharity, written after the loss
of the battle of the Boyne, "It was a' for our rightful
king," has preriously been quoted. Perhaps the following
beautiful song, in which queen Mary is aUuded to, was
composed by the same brave exile. It is the lament of
a Jacobite lady for the absence of her lover at St, Ger-
mains : — " I ha'e nae kith, I ha'e nae kin.
Nor ane that's dear to me.
For the bonny lad that I lo'e best.
He's far ayont the sea.
He's gane with ane^ that was our ain.
And we may rue the day,
"When our king's ae' daughter came.
To play sae foul a play.
Oh, gin I were a bonny bird,
Wi' wings that I might flee.
Then I wad travel o'er the main.
My ain true love to see.
Then wad I teU a joyftd tale
To ane that's dear to me.
And sit upon a king's window.
And sing my melody."
At St, Germains, the window of the room once tenanted
by king James juts boldly over a commanding riew, as
' Foreigner is the answer to this quaint question.
' James II. OgUvie, the sweetest Jacobite poet of his day, was in the
Scottish brigade, being one of the officers of the Dumbarton regiments broke by
WUUam III. for refusing to take the oaths to him. He fought at the Boyne for
James IL, and feU at the battle of the Rhine.
" Mary : ae daughter, is ' eldest daughter.'

MAEY II. 275
if to inrite such winged minstrels, — and strongly did it
recaU this exquisite old melody to the mind of the writer,
when standing, in musing mood, within it. The con
cluding verses aUude to the plots of the period, regarding
which the Jacobites were high in hope : by " the crow,"
or " corbie," is meant WiUiam III. and his party.
" The adder Ues i'th' corbie's nest.
Beneath the corbie's wame ;
And the blast that reaves the corbie's nest,
ShaU blaw our good king hame.'
Then blaw ye east, or blaw ye west.
Or blaw ye o'er the faem.
Oh ! bring the lad that I lo'e best.
And ane I dare na name."
The queen, in fuU expectation that king WiUiam would
return speedUy from Ireland, found it requisite to apologize
to him that his Kensington vUla was not ready for his re
ception. She concludes her letter, dated July -J^, "with these
words: "You don't know how I please myself "vrith the
hopes of seeing you here very soon, but I must teU you
that it is impossible to be at Kensington. Your closets
here are also not in order, but there is no smoke in the
summer, and the air much better than in another season.
Pray let me have your orders ; if not by yourself, then teU
lord Portland, and let him write. I see I can hardly end
this, but I must force myself, without saying a word more
but that I am ever yours — more than ever, if that be possi
ble — and shall be so tiU death."
The next letter was written by the queen from her bed,
at eleven at night, at which hour she was too sleepy
to "write a long one, having fatigued herself by a risit to
Hampton-Court, to superintend the Dutch derices disfi
guring that ancient palace. The grand apartments, where
the English-born sovereigns held thefr state, had been de-
moUshed ; and had it not been for a felicitous lack of money
and Portland stone, not a fragment of thefr noble country-
palace would have been left : —
' James II.
T 2

276 MAEY II.
"Queen Maet to King William.'
""Whitehall, 1690, July ^, N. s., at eleven at night.
" You wiU excuse me from answering your letter I received yesterday morn
ing, (which was writ on Sunday last,) when you know I have been this morning
to Hampton-Court and back again by noon, and ever since have had one or other
to speak to me, of which I wiU give you an account when I have more time.
Now I shaU only tell you that things go on there [at Hampton-Court] very
slowly. Want of money and Portland stone are the hindrances, and, indeed, in
a time when there are such pressing necessitys, I am almost ashamed to speak
about it ; and yet it is become so just a debt, that it ought to be paid, — I mean
the privy seal which you passed long ago.
" 1 fancy the joy at St. Patrick's church was greater than can be exprest, and
vrish I had been with you ; but though at a distance, none ever praised God so
heartUy for many reasons, chiefly that of your wonderful deUverance, upon which,
the queen-dowager sent lady Arlington to compUment me. I am now in my bed,
having bathed, and am so sleepy I can say no more, but that I am ever
and entfrely « Your's."
In the three succeeding days she -wrote two more letters
to her husband, full of hopes of seeing him quickly, mingled
with fears that the French ships — which then rode rictors
both in the English and Irish Channels, in a manner un
precedented for centuries, — should intercept him on his
return. " AU my fears,'' observes the queen,' "is' the French ships, which are
going to St. George's Channel, and are afready at Kinsale. If those should
hinder you, what wUl become of me ? I think the fright would take away my
reason. But I hope the express, which goes this evening to sfr Cloudesley Shovel,
wUl come time enough to prevent any surprise. I am the most impatient '
creature in the world for an answer about your coming, which I do hope may he
a good one, and that I shaU see you, and endeavour myself to let you see, it it
be possible, that my heart is more yours than my own."
The queen, in continuation, gives more laudable proofs of
her sincerity in reUgion than can preriously be discovered in,
her conduct.
" I have been desfred," she says to her husband, " to beg you not to be too
quick in parting with the confiscated estates, but consider whether you wUl not
keep some for public schools, to instruct the poor Irish. For my part, I must
needs say that I tbiok you would do very weU, if you would consider what care
can be taken of the poor souls there ; and, indeed, if yon would give me leave, I
must teU you I think the wonderful deUverance and success you have had, should
obUge you to think upon domg what you can for the advancement ot true
reUgion and promoting the gospel."*
Alas ! king WUUam, Uke aU mere miUtary sovereigns, had
no endowments to bestow on Christian ciriUzation of any
• Dafrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 138. 2 Ibid., p. 141.
' So written. * Dalrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 141.

MAEY IL 277
kind. The property she mentions was the private inherit
ance of her father from the earls of Clare and Ulster. It
was given by her husband to his mistress, Elizabeth "ViUiers"
Probably it was some intimation of its infamous destination
that prompted Mary to make the request that it might be
appropriated to the above vfrtuous use ; but her regal partner
little thought of any atonement for the excessive miseries
inflicted, on "wretched Ireland during his reign. Far from
that, it is to be feared that he was the cause of many atro
cities being perpetrated by his cruel troops : the slightest
mention of one thrills the nerves -with horror. When
WiUiam was compeUed to raise the siege of Waterford, he
was asked, " In what manner he should dispose of the sick
and wounded prisoners ?" — " Burn them !" was his iU-tem-
pered reply. There is too much reason to beUeve that this
peerish expletive was literally obeyed ; for one thousand of
these unfortunates were destroyed in this inhuman manner,
by the pliace in which they were penned directly afterwards
bursting into flames, in which they miserably perished.'
Towards the end of July, it was found necessary that
queen Mary should in person reriew the miUtia, which had
been caUed out for the defence of the country, then threat
ened with invasion by the victorious fleets of France. This
was trenching very closely on the office of her miUtary lord
and master, and she evidently deemed it proper to apolo
gize for playing the general as well as the sovereign in his
absence : —
" I go," she says in her next letter, " to Hyde-park, to see the miUtia drawn
out there, next Monday ; you may believe I go against my will  I still
must come back to my ifrst saying ; which is, that I do hope and fiatter myself
that you wUl be come back, if it can be with safety. I'm sure if that can't be,
I shaU wish you may rather stay where you are, though I long never so much to
see you, than that you should venture your dear person, which is a thousand
times Wiore so to me than my own self, and ever wUl be so while I breathe."
AU that has been hitherto known of Mary II. has been
imbibed by the public from Burnet's panegyric. But -vrith
what promptitude would the revolutionary bishop have de-
moUshed his own work, could he, like us, have read her
' Porter's History of Ireland. It is cited by the author of " Ireland as a
Kingdom and Colony."

278 MAEY IL
majesty's letter to the king, of July ff, and seen the con^
temptuous reluctance -with which she acceded to his desfre
of baring his "thundering long sermon" on the Boyne
rictory printed. Many passages in these letters, ¦written
with unstudied grace and simpUcity, prove that Mary's
tastes in composition were elegant and unaffected; conse
quently, Burnet's style must have been odious to her. How
differently did the man himself and the world believe he
was rated in her majesty's estimation ! Let her speak for
herself, as foUows : ' " I -will say no more at present, but
that the bishop of Salisbury made a thundering long sermon
this morning, which he has been -with me to desire me to
print, which I could not refuse, though I should not have
ordered it, for reasons which I told him  I am ex
treme impatient of hearing from you, which I hope in God
wUl be before I sleep this night ; if not, I think I shaU not
rest. But if I should meet -with a disappointment of your
not coming, I don't know what I shaU do, for my desfre of
seeing you is equal to my love, which cannot end but with
my life." "Queen Maet to King William, " "WhitehaU, July J|, 1690,
" Every hour makes me more impatient to hear from you, and every thing I
hear stir I think brings me a letter. I shall not go about to excuse myself ; I
know 'tis folly to a great degree to be so uneasy as I am at present, when I have
no reason to apprehend any iU cause, but only might attribute your silence to
your marching farther from DubUn, which makes the way longer. I have stayed,
tUl I am almost asleep, in hopes ; but they are vain, and I must once more go to
bed in hopes of being waked vrith a letter from you, which I shaU get at last, I
hope." By the conclusion of this letter may be gathered, that her
majesty's counciUors were much agitated with quarrelsome ,
dirisions, and that stormy discussions constantly sprang up,
to her great uneasiness. In truth, the immediate danger of
her father's restoration had frightened them into something
Uke unanimity whUe the queen presided over them; but
' Dafrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 142. A panegyrist of the queen has
published some of her letters, but has carefuUy omitted this passage, the editor
being an admirer of Burnet. No one ought to touch documents in such a spirit.
Letters and diaries ought to speak honestly for themselves; then let readers
draw thefr own deductions, if they are not satisfied with those of the biographer.

MAEY IL 279
after the battle of the Boyne they deemed that danger
passed, and they relapsed, in consequence, into their usual
state of factious animosity. Thefr tempers had preriously
greatly annoyed her liege lord, who had prepared her for
thefr troublesome behariour. She had secretly imagined
that he found fault from his own cynical spfrit; she thus
owns that he knew them better than she did : —
" I cannot resolve to write you all that has past at councU this day, tUl which
time I thought you had given me wrong characters of men ; but I now see they
answer my expectation of being as Uttle of a mind as of a body.'
" Adieu ! do but love me,' and I can bear aU."
As the king was stUl detained in Ireland, Mary's next
despatch brought detaUs more particular of the quarrels
which pervaded both the cabinet and the privy council, and
had for their object the appointment of commanders of the
shattered and fugitive navy, then skulking dishonourably in
the ports of the Thames. The queen mentions that she had
had the vapours in the evening of the 27th of July, baring
been worried by the mad lord Lincoln that morning. The
term "vapours" requires explanation, as much as any other
historical antiquity of a bygone day: we believe it is syno
nymous "vrith an " attack on the nerves " in the present
century. But nervous complaints were classed by queen
Mary's court into three separate maladies : these were va
pours, megrims, and spleen. Vapours, we believe, veered
in symptoms towards hysterics, megrims to nervous head
ache, while the spleen simply meant a pain in the temper.
Pope, in his briUiant court poem, the Rape of the Lock,
represents all three keeping watch round his fainting Be-
Unda, a fafr belle of the courts of queen Mary and queen
Anne, Mrs. ArabeUa Fermor by name, from whom the lord
Petre of that day had contumaciously, and against her con
sent, stolen a curl. Queen Mary may be excused, then, for
having had one of these feminine affiictions, especially when
she had been agitated by conflicting feelings that day, —
plagued by the councU, and beset by a madman "vrithal,
according to her own description in the foll'o"wing letter : —
• The queen means, that her counciUors are no more " one in mind, than
ikey are one in body."

280 MARY II.
"Queen Maet to King William.' " WhitehaU, July !|.
" Could you but guess at my inipatienco for a letter, you would bo able to
judge of my joy at receiving yours from TimoUii. At proHcut I shnll say nothing
to you, but that I have, at last, scon tho council in a great heat, but shnll stuy
till I see you to teU you my mind upon it. Lord Nottingham wiU scud you tlio
account the commissioners have brought from sea, of tho ussui-anco of tho flooti
being ready Wednesday next.
"Lord Lincohi," pursues her mi^csty's historical iian-ativo, "was with mo
this afternoon no loss than an hour and a half, reforming tho fleet, correeliiig
abuses, and not shy, oltlior, of naming persons. Ho talked so iierfectly like a
madman, ns I never heard any thing more in my life : ho mado mo tho most
extrauagan/cxt compliments in tho world, but was by no moans satisUod that I
would do nothing ho dosircil mo. He had an expression that I bnvo heard often
within this few days ; which is, ' that I have tho power iu my hand, and they
wonder I do not make use of it;' and ' why should i stay for yom- rotiiruP' And
' whether I should [ought to] lose so mncli timo as to write you word or no, ia
doubted; that is, when they must stay tiU an answer come.' I sbaU toll you
more of this when I shall be so happy once moro to seo you, or when I can write
you a long letter, for I home taken the vapours, and dare not to-night. But
you know, whatever my letters are, my heart is moro yours than my own,''
• Dnli'ymplo's Appendix, pai't u, p. 143.

MARY II.
QUEEN-BEGNANT OP GREAT BRITAIN AND lEELAND.

CHAPTER VII.

Queen Mary urged to assume sovereignty independently of her husband — Dia
logues with sir Thomas Lee — ^Affi^onted by him — Dialogue with lord Devon
shfre — Her perplexities — Her arrangements for the king's return — Laments
the unfinished state of Kensington-palace — His angry reproof — Her humble
apologies — Preparations at Kensington — General style of her writing — Pro
ceedings of tho princess Anne — Queen goes to look at Campden-house —
Young dulce of Gloucester settled there — WUliam III.'s letter concerning
the queen — Her colebration-baU at WhitehaU deferred — The queen disap
pointed of her husband's return — Continuation of her letters — Her difficulties
increase — Her troubles with naval matters — Listens to Dutch cabals — Joy at
the king's approval — Announces that Kensington-palace is ready — Intercedes
for HamUton — Her interviews with informers — Detects a plot — Urges the
king's return — State of England under her sway — Her aversion to Whitehall
— Eeceives Zulestein — Communes with Jacobite traitors — Sends thefr secret
confessions to WiUiam III. — Mentions NoviU Payne — Her fondness for Hol
land — Sends cannon and money to her husband — Mentions its loss — Her
dialogue with EusseU — Her tender expressions to the king — Gossip about his
relatives — Her anguish of mmd — Dread of the king's campaign in Flanders —
Eeceives an amber cabinet — Heai-s news of the king's landing — Enmity to
Catharine of Braganza — Meets king WiUiam — Thefr residence at Kensington
— King's jealousy of his wife's government — Ti-aits of costume.
Whether for the purpose of breaking the unanimity of pur
pose between the king and queen, or really from motives of
personal preference to herself as the native-born monarch,
it is certain that a strong party existed, eager to urge her
majesty to acts of independent sovereignty. It is no slight
ampUfication of her conjugal virtue to find her strenuously
resisting every temptation to her own separate aggrandize
ment. • A long historical despatch from the queen to her
absent partner opens, according to custom, like a love-letter,
as follows : —

282 MAEY II.
"Queen Maet to King William,
" WhitehaU, Aug. 1, N.s. (July 21, O.S.) 1690.'
" Last night I received your letter with so much joy, that it was seen by my
face, by those who knew the secret of it, that you were coming. I wiU not take
more of your time with endeavouring to teU you what is impossible to be ex
pressed ; hut you know how much I love you, and therefore you wiU not doubt
of my deUght to think I shall soon see you. I wOl not, at this time, teU you
any thing that can be writ by others."
The gist of the poUtical part of the epistle is the detaU of
the feuds in the two councils, founded on the facts that the
king and queen -wished Mr. RusseU to take the command of
the fieet. Subsequent events proved they were perfectly
right; but Russell would not take the responsibUity after
the disastrous defeats which had succeeded each other since
the Revolution. He chose to have two partners, one a no
bleman, — his friend lord Shrewsbury, the ex-minister; the
other, a seaman. The queen did not object to the appoint
ment of Shrewsbury, but she always named him with
mysterious prudery. Both herself and the king insisted on
the third admfral being sir Richard Haddick; but RusseU
remained obstinate, for he hated Haddick. The lords of
the admfralty, too, thought fit to place themselves in strong
opposition to the queen, and in her next letter are repre
sented as positively disobedient and contumacious to her
authority, — ostensibly out of hatred to sfr Richard Haddick,
between whom and sir Thomas Lee (a leading man in the
admfralty) there was a riolent enmity. The queen con
cluded her letter with these words : —
" 'Tis impossible for Kensington to be ready for your coming, though I wiU
do my best that you shall not stay long for it when you are come : I wUl make
my apology for the matter when I see you. I shaU now only teU you I am m
great pain to know if I have done weU in this business, or no. Pai-don all my
faults, and beUeve that I commit none willingly; and that I love you more
than my Ufe."
Two days afterwards, the queen describes, "with some ani
mation, a dialogue between herself and sfr Thomas Lee.'
" So the commissioners of the admfralty were sent for, and lord president
Carmarthen told them what the resolution was.' Sfr Thomas grew as pale as
¦ Dalrymple's Appendix, part u. p. 146.
">¦ That admfrals EusseU and Haddick should command the fleet, in conjunction
with some great noble. ' Dafrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 148,

MAKY II. 283
death, and told me 'that the custom was, that they [the lords of the admfralty]
used to recommend, and that they were to answer for the persons, since they
were to give them the commissions, and did not know but what they might be
caUed to account in pai-Uament.' Lord president answered and argued with
them. At last, sfr Thomas Lee came to say plainly, 'Haddick was the man
they did not Uke.' He added, aflierwards, 'I might give a commission i£ I
liked, hut they would not.' "When I saw he talkt long, and insisted upon thefr
privUege, I said, 'I perceived, then, that the king had given away his own
power, and could not make au admfral wliich the admiralty did not like.' Sfr
Thomas Lee answered, ' No ; no more he can't.' I was ready to say, ' Then the
king should give the commission to such as would not dispute with him ;' but I
did not, though I must confess I was heartily angry. It may be, I am in the
wrong ; but, as yet, I cannot think so. Lord president, after more discourse,
desfred them to retire."
The blunt answer of sfr Thomas Lee could not be digested
by the queen, who soon found that he was set on by her
friend RusseU, whose hatred to sfr Richard Haddick was
equal to that of sir Thomas Lee. The next step taken by
the lords of the admfralty was a downright refusal to sign the
commission. Carmarthen, the lord president, brought this
inteUigence to the queen. He was, or pretended to be, in a
very great rage. The observations her majesty made' on his
angry demeanour, display good sense and command of
temper : —
" I askt lord president what answer was to be sent ? He was very angry,
and talkt at a great rate ; but I stopped him, and told him ' I was angry
enough, and desfred he would not be too much so, for I did not believe it a
proper time.' Lord president answered, ' The best answer he could give from
me was, that they, the lords of the admfralty, would do weU to consider of it.'
I desfred he would add, ' that I could not change my mind, if it were proper to
say so much.' He said, ' It was rather too Uttle.'
" I saw Mr. EusseU this morning, and I found him very much out of humour.
Se excused sir Thomas Lee, and would not beUeve he had said such a thing as
I told you. I said, ' Indeed that he had angered me very much ;' but he [Rus
seU] endeavoured to talk it over. He said, ' that Haddick was not acceptable to
them, because they beUeved lord Nottingham had recommended him, and they
did not Uke that.' I saw RusseU shifted off' signing the commission, and,
indeed, I never saw him out of humour before. There was company by, so I
had not a fair opportunity of saying more to him ; only he prest naming lord
Shrewsbury for a thfrd, [as joint admfral of the fleet,] as the best means to aUay
aU these things. But as I had not time or convenience to say more to him then,
I was fain to leave off^ at a place I would have said more upon. This I had the
opportunity of douig this morning to lord Marlborough, who came to me about
the same thing. I told him why I should be unwilUng to name Shrewsbury
myself, ' for I thought it would not be proper for me, by any means, to name a
person who had quitted [i. e., resigned office] just upon your going away, though
' Dalrymple's Appendix, part u. p. 148.

284 MAEY II.
I was persuaded you would trust him, and had a good opinion of him ; yet for
me to take upon me alone, (for we concluded none would be for it but those only
who are trusted with the secret,' I mean lord Marl and Mr. EusseU, and lord
cham,) for me, I say, now so to name him [Shrewsbury] without being assured
fi-om yourself of your approbation, I thought not proper."
The queen's pique that Shrewsbury should have resigned
office just at the time when he had an opportunity of assist
ing her in reigning, is, perhaps, apparent here. The rest
of her detail of passing events is fuU of interesting indi-
ridual particulars of her thoughts and feelings at this trying
epoch : —
" I pray God to send you here quickly, for besides the desire I have to see you
for my own sake, (which is not now to be named,) I see all breaking out into
flames. Lord steward [Devonshfre] was with me this afternoon from sfr Thomas
Lee, to excuse himself to me. He said, ' The reason was, because he saw this
[the appointment of Haddick] was a business between two or three — a concerted,
tlung, and that made him; he could not consent.' I told him [Devonshfre] ' he
himself could have assured sfr Thomas Lee it was your own orders, in your letter
from you to me.' At which he shaked his head. I askt, ' If he or sfr Thomas
Lee did not believe me ? ' He said, ' sfr Thomas Lee thought that Haddick was
imposed on the king.' I said, ' I did not beUeve that was so easy.' ' I mean,' said
lord [Devonshfre], ' recommended by persons they don't much Uke.' — ' Indeed,
my lord, if they only dislike sfr Eichard Haddick because be is recommended by
such as they don't approve, it wiU only confirm me in the beUef that he is a fit
man, since they make no other objection against him. I confess,' said I, ' my
lord, I was very angry at what sfr Thomas Lee said yesterday ; but this is to
make me more so, since I see 'tis not reason, but passion makes sfr T. Lee speak
thus.' Upon which, we [the queen and lord Devonshfre] feU into discourse of
the divisions, [quarrels in council,] which we both lamented, and I think we
were both angry, though not with one another. He complained ' that people
were too much believed that ought not to be so, and we could not agree.' I
should never have done, should I say [repeat] all I bear on such matters ; but
what I have said, I think absolutely necessary for you to know. If I have been
too angry, I am sorry for it. I don't believe I am easily provoked, but I think
I had reason. If I may say so, I do not think people should be humom-ed to
this degree. Mr. Russell again desired the duke of Grafton should not be in,
[i. e. in command of the fleet,] and lord Nottingham, who was one of those who
mentioned him before, desfred me to let you know he is concerned at havmg
mentioned him, having since been informed how unfit he is."
On account of his rude and brutal manners, which exas
perated every one with whom he came in contact, the queen,
who had wished this iUegitimate cousin of hers to be em
ployed that he might " become good for something," now
' "What the secret was, is not very clear. In all probabUity, it was that kmg
WilUam was exceedingly desirous for Shrewsbury again to take office, let that
office be whatsoever he chose. It seems very odd that a courtier of rank, not
bred to the naval profession, should be soUcited to command a fleet, but such
were the customs of that day.

MAEY II. 285
shrank from the responsibUity of her recommendation. She
continues thus : —
" One thing more I must desfre to know positively, which is, about Kensing
ton, whether you wiU go there tboi^h my chamber is not ready. Your own
apartment, lord Portland's, Mr. OverkirFs, and lady Darby's are done; but
mine impossible to be used, and nobody else's lodgings ready. The afr there is
now free from smoke, but your closet as yet smells of paint, for which I will ask
pardon when I see you. This is the true state of your two houses, but if you
¦wiU go lye only at Kensington, for I suppose your business wiU keep you here
[j. e. at "Whitehall] aU day, pray let me know. You may be sure I shall be
very wiUing to suffer any inconvenience for the sake of your dear company, and
I wish I could suffer it all; for I deserve it, being something in fault, though I
have excuses which are not Ues  I hope," concludes the queen, " this
long letter may meet you so near, that you may bring your own answer. If
not, if you love me, either write me a particular answer yourself, or let lord
Portland do it for you. You see the necessity of it for the public ; do a little
also for my private satisfaction, who love you much more than my own life."
The succeeding letter is whoUy devoted to the personal
and private arrangements of the royal pafr : —
"Queen Maet to King William.'
""Whitehall, Aug. 5, N.s. (July 24, o.s.) 1690.
"Last night I received yours from Benit-bridge, by which I find you designed
to summon Waterford again last Monday. I beseech God give you good success,
and send you safe and quickly home. There was an order taken yesterday in
council for the proro^'Msing the parUament for three weeks. I have been this
evening at Kensington, for though I did beUeve you would not be wiUing to stay
at WhitehaU, yet what you write me word makes me in a miUion of fears, espe
ciaUy since I must needs confess my fault, that I have not been pressing enough
tUl it was too late."
King WiUiam had certainly written a sharp reproof to his
loring spouse, on the subject of Kensington-palace not being
ready for his reception. How humbly she asked pardon for
his closet at Kensington smeUing of paint, has been shown
in the preceding letter. It was rather unreasonable of the
king, who only left her in the middle of June, to expect
that, -with an exhausted treasury, his queen could prepare
his palace for his reception in the first days of August;
therefore her apology and extreme humiUation for the non
performance of impossibiUties, — especiaUy in asking pardon
for smeUs for which the house-painter and his painting-pots
were alone accountable, — seem somewhat slarish. The rest
of her letter is couched in the same prostration of spfrit: —
* Dafrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. ISO.

286 MAEY II.
" The outside of the house [at Kensington] is the fiddling work, which takes
up more time than one can imagine ; and whUe the schafolds ai-e up, the win
dows must be boarded up. But as soon as that is done, your own a,partmeut8
may be furnished ; and though mine cannot possibly be ready yet awhile, I have
found out a way, if you please, which is, that I may make use of lord Portland's,
and he ly in some other rooms ; we \i. «., she and the king] may ly in your
chamber, and I go tJirow the councill-room down, or els dress me there. And
as I suppose your business wUl bring you often to town, so I must take such
time to see company here ; and that part of the famUy which can't com^ there,
must stay here, for 'tis no matter what inconvenience* any els suffers for your
dear sake. I think this way the oiUy one yourself wiU have, will be my lying in
your chamber, which you know I can make as easy to you as may be. Our being
there [at Kensington] wiU certainly forward the work. I hope this letter wUl
not come to your hands, but that you will be on your way hither before this.
My greatest fear is for your closets here; but if you consider how much sooner
you come back than any one durst have hoped, you wUl forgive me, and I can't
but he extreme glad to be so deceived. God in his mercy send us a happy meet
ing, and a quick one, for which I am more impatient than I can possibly\
express." Although extremely interesting as a transcript of queen
Mary's private feelings, and affording an amusing riew of
her domestic arrangements and expedients, the foregoing
narrative presents us with the most faulty specimen of her
orthography and phraseology which has been as yet disco
vered. Those of our readers who are familiar -with the lite
rature of the seventeenth century, wiU consider Mary's
letters in general as wonderful productions, not only on
account of the good sense and graphic power of expressing
what she has to say, whether in dialogue or narrative, but as
presenting occasionally favourable specimens of the famUiar
English of her era. It may be observed, that her majesty
was in advance of Steele and Addison, and of the drama
tists of her day, who wrote you was, instead of you were.
She generaUy uses her subjunctives correctly, and her sen
tences, however hurriedly written, have a logical connexion
in thefr divisions.
Throughout this mass of voluminous correspondence, not
a word occurs 'regarding the princess Anne, nor does the
queen ever aUude to her nephew and hefr-presumptive, the
infant duke of Gloucester, then twelve months old. The
hatred that was brooding in the minds of queen Mary and
her sister had not yet burst into open flame : they stUl
observed the decencies of disUke, had ceremonious meetings

MAEY II, 287
and formal leave-takings, when courtly etiquette requfred
them. The princess having discovered that Craven-house
was too small for her son's nursery, the queen condescended
to accompany her to look at Campden-house,' situated (as
the remains of it are at present) behind Kensington-palace.
The princess considered that its ricinity would be conve
nient for the queen to see her godson and nephew at plea
sure, when her majesty took up her abode at the new-built
palace; she therefore hfred Campden-house for her nursery,
at an enormous rental, of Mr, Bertie, the guardian of young
Noel, to whom the house belonged. Here the infant duke
of Gloucester was estabUshed,' and his improved health
manifested the salubrity of the site the queen and his
mother had chosen.
The queen continued to devote a large portion of her
time to epistolary communication with her absent husband.
His replies have been vainly sought, yet, from the remaining
specimens of his letters, thefr absence is perhaps no great
historical loss, as it is doubtful whether his majesty ever
-wrote a narrative letter in his Ufe, His enormous hand-
¦writing spreads far and wide over his paper, as if to prevent
the introduction of much matter; and this habit was ac
quired as an adult, for his hand, in his boyish letters to his
uncle Charles, in the State-Paper office, is not quite so large
as children's writing in general. Few of his notes consist
of more than two or three prettily turned French sentences,
from which it is scarcely possible to extract any indiridual
information ; in consequence, it may be observed that her
majesty was often in great perplexity to know his wishes and
intentions. The following letter from the king, -written
throughout by his o-wn hand, to the earl of Devonshire,
then one of the councU of nine, belongs to this period. The
original is in French: it contains more matter than any
other extant from WiUiam's pen, excepting the wrathful
' The front buUt by sir Baptist Hicks, in 1612, was demolished in the com
mencement of the present century. The old gateway, surmounted by the sup
porters of the Noel famUy, has been demoUshed since 1848.
''¦ Memoirs of the young Duke of Gloucester, by Lewis Jenkins.

288 MAEY II.
one relating to Dr. CoveU's transgressions.' The present
document, hitherto inedited, is in answer to " a compliment "
on the king's wound, previously sent to Ireland by the lord
steward of the household, the earl of Devonshfre :—
"William III. to the Eabl ov Devonshibb.''
"At the Camp of Welles, this July 17.
" I am very much obliged by the part that you take in what concerns my per
son, and the advantage^ that I have gained over my enemies.'' The misfortune
that has befaUen my fleet' has sensibly touched me, but I hope that it wiU soon
be in a state to put to sea. It wUl be necessary to chastise severely those who
have not done thefr duty.°
" If it had been possible, -n-ithout abandoning aU here, I should have set out as
soon as yesterday morning, when I received your despatches ; but, without losing
all the advantages I have gained, I cannot leave the army for five or six days.
Of this I have written to the queen and to the lords of the committee, to whom
1 refer you, and hope very soon to have the satisfaction of seeing you, and of
assurmg you of my constant friendship and esteem, on which you may entirely
rely- "William, B."
The absence of nomenclature is a curious feature in this
epistle of the royal diplomatist. No one is named in it but
the queen, although he refers to several persons ; no place
is mentioned, yet he aUudes to the battle of the Boyne, the
defeat at La Hogue, and the court-martial pending at Sheer-
ness on lord Torrington.
From the contents of the royal missive from the seat of
war, lord Devonshire concluded that queen Mary would be
forced to postpone a grand baU for which the palace was in
preparation. Her majesty meant, by this festival, to cele
brate the king's rictory of the Boyne, and his return to
England. The idea of a ball given by queen Mary in exul
tation over her father's losses at "the fatal Boyne- water,"
again exasperated that powerful satirist under whose scourge
she had preriously writhed. The foUo-wing historical poem
was disseminated in the usual manner, being transcribed
' Pre-viously quoted.
' Holograph letter from WilUam III. to the first duke of Devonshfre, (then
earl,) lord steward of the household. From the famUy papers of his grace the
duke of Devonshfre. ' Battle of the Boyne.
* King James II. and the French. » Loss of the battle off Beachy Head,
" Court-martial on lord Torrington,

MAEY II. 289
in numerous manuscripts, and scattered in the MaU (PaU-
maU) and the Birdcage- walk : —
" The youthful TulUa on her piUow lay
At dead of night, after a midnight baU,
In her own fatlier's palace of Whitehall ;
"When straight the scene upon a sudden turns.
Her blood grows chill, the taper dimly bm-ns j
A trembling seizes aU her limbs with awe.
As her dead mother' did the curtain draw.
And thus begin : —
' Can quiet slumber ever dose thine eyes ?
Or is thy conscience sunlc too low to rise ?
From this same place was not thy aged sfre
Compelled by midnight ruffians to retire ?
Had he been murdered, there'd been mercy shown ;
'Tis less to kUl a king than to dethrone.
"Where are the crimes of which he was accused ?
How is the nation gulled, and he abused !'
Night's watchful sentinel here blew his horn,
• I must be gone !' her mother said ; ' FareweU !
Wliat you have seen and heard, your sistei-^ teU.'
Thus having spoke, the vision disappears.
Leaving the trembling Mary drowned in tears."'
For purposes either of her royal pleasure or poUcy, the
queen had been indefatigable in giring baUs at WhitehaU
during the king's absence. The earl of Devonshfre, her
high-steward, notwithstanding his known taste for these
diversions, requfred a respite. Other troubles annoyed the
lord steward, — ^the ladies of the queen's court danced awk
wardly, and there were more ladies than gentlemen. Some
of the young nobles were fighting in Ireland against the
queen's father, some were fighting for him; others were
exUed for maintaining his cause, and not a few of the best
beaux were incarcerated by the queen's warrants in the
Tower, However, her majesty had expressed her particular
wish that the daughter-in-law of the earl of Devonshfre
might be present at her grand celebration-baU, The royal
pleasure was thus notified to that lady by her mother-in-law,
lady Devonshfre :^ —
' Anne Hyde. ' Princess Anne of Denmark.
• Contemporary MSS. in possession of lady Strange, date 1690; evidently
written before the burning of "WliitehaU, or the queen's rupture with the
princess Anne.
* The hand is very large and mascuUne, but as the letter is signed E. Devon
shire, and her lord is mentioned, it must be written by the countess.
VOL. VII. V

290 MAEY II,
The Coitntesb ov DeVonshike to Ladt Cavendish,' (DAUonTEa
to Rachel Ladt Eussell). (Saturday.)
" I am very glad to hear by Mr. Woolraan, not only of yotir good health, but
that I shaU see you sooner than yon seemed to intend I should. You may still
be in time, as the queen desires, for the ball, for nobody can toU when it wiU be,
the king's coming not being so soon as was expected. I hope there will be a
respite, too, in the dancings at Whitehall, tiU it be for the great baU ; yet there
is more ladies than men, and worse dancers than them they have found can
hardly be met with. Mrs. Moone danced rather worse than better than she did
last year. My lord is come from Newmarket. My head aches, so I leave
Betty,'' dear daughter, to end my letter with what news she knows."
\_Beity's conclusion.']
" I hope you will pardon my not answering yours at this present, but you
may believe -that I am very full of business when I fail it. We have danced
very often at Whitehall, where you arc wanting extremely, there being not above
one or two tolerable dancers ; and as for myself, I am worse at it than last year.
We are just going to supper. I believe this would hardly pass with you for a
letter if I should say more, so I will only desire you to give my humble service
to my lady Boss. I am very sorry to hear by Mr. Belmau that she does not
come with you to town."
Endorsed — " To the Lady Hartington, at Wobum Abbey, in Bedfordshfre."
The husband of " lady Ross " here mentioned, is the same
lord Ross who, it wiU be remembered, was then the object
of queen Mary's particular displeasure. Her majesty, in
a letter quoted a few pages back, we have seen express
her lively displeasure that the powerful families of Devon
shire and Bolton had successfully prevented her from incar
cerating lord Ross in the Tower, on her mere privy-council
warrant. The queen's hopes of the return of her husband, which
had been lively at the beginning of July, were now deferred
from week to week. Success had turned in Ireland against
the Protestant party. The defence of Limerick by the
Jacobite general, Sarsfield, rivaUed in desperation that of
Londonderry, in the preceding year, by the Calvinist minis
ter, Walker. An equal number of William's highly-dis
ciplined soldiers fell in the siege, as king James had lost
of the half-armed Irish miUtia at the passage of the Boyne.
The Protestants of Ireland had been discouraged by the
speech that broke from the ungrateful Ups of the Orange
' Family Papers of his grace tho dulce of Devonshire.
' Probably lady Elizabeth CavonfUsh, youngest daughter to tho earl and
counk'ss of Devonshfre.

MAEY II. 291
king. When one of them told him, in a tone of lamenta
tion, " that parson Walker was among the slain in the milee
at the Boyne," — "Why did the fool go there?" was the
best tribute king WiUiam gave to the memory of the
valiant partisan to whom he owed Ireland, The reverend
gentleman had given his aid at the Boyne, in the expecta
tion of gaining further reno"wn in regular warfare, and
the regimental king scorned all glory that had not been
at drill. WiUiam remained unwUlingly in Ireland, witness
ing the waste of his army in the fatal trenches of Limerick.
His passage home was by no means an easy matter, for
the victorious French fleets not only rode triumphantly
in the English Channel, but in that of St. George, render
ing dangerous the communication between England and
Ireland. The queen's letters continued to describe the difficulties
which beset her at the helm of government. Her next
epistle details the feuds and factions regarding the com
mand of the fleet : —
"Queen Maet to King William.'
" WhitehaU, Aug. 9, N.s. (July 30, o.s.) 1690.
" You will not wonder that I did not write last night, when you know that at
noon I received yours by Mr. Butler, whose face I shaU love to see ever here
after, since he has come twice with such good news. That he brought yesterday
was so welcome to me, that I won't go about expressing it, since 'tis impossible.
But (tor my misfortune) I have now another reason to be glad of your coming,
and a vei-y strong one, (if compared to any thing but the kindness I have for
your dear self,) and tliat is the divisions, which, to my thinking, increase here
daily, or at least appear more and more to me. The business of the commission
is again put off by Mr. RusseU."
Points of precedence had to be settled between the admirals
Killigrew and sir John Ashby, before sfr R. Haddick could
accept the promotion the queen designed him. Her majesty,
in discussing the affair with Russell, again mentioned her
displeasure against sir Thomas Lee : —
" RusseU went to excuse him, [Lee,]" she continues. " I said, ' that I must
own to him, that were I in your place, I would not have home his [sfr Thomas
Lee's] answer; but when he had in a manner refused to sign the commission, I
should have put it into such hands as would have done it.' Mr. RusseU said,
• He hoped I would not think of doing it now.' I told him, ' No, he might be
sure, in your absence, I would not think of any thing of that nature, especiaUy
' Dafrymple's Appendix, part U. p. 151.
0 2

292 MAEY II.
not without your orders for it.' At my coming from council I was told of Mr;
Butler's being come.' He soon brought me your letters, and though I was in
hourly expectation, yet being sure you were coming did reaUy transport me so,
that I have hardly recovered it yet, and there's such a joy everywhere, that 'tis
not to be exprest.
" I went last night to Kensington, and wiU go again by and by. They
promise me aU shall be ready by Tuesday next, and this is Wednesday. That is
the night, [the ensuing Tuesday,] by Mr. Butler's reckoning, that with a fair
wind you may be here," though I think, by your dear letter, it is possible you
may come a day sooner. At most, if you lye here [i. e. at WhitehaU] two
nights, the thfrd you may certainly, if it please God, be at Kensington. I wiU
do my endeavour that it may be sooner ; but one night, I reckon, you wUl be
content to Ue here. I writ you word in my last, how I thought you might shift
at Kensington without my chamber ; but I have thought since to set up a bed
(which is afready ordered) in the councU-chamber, and that I can dress me in
lord Portland's, and use his closet : M. Neinburg is gone to get other rooms for
him. Thus I think we may shift for a fortnight, in which time I hope my own
[chamber] -wiU be ready : they promise it sooner.
" This letter wiU, I liope, meet you at Chester. It shall stay for you there,
so that if there be any thing else you would have done, do but let me know it
by one word, and you shall find it so, if it be in my power. I have one thing to
beg ; which is, that if it be possible I may come and meet you on the road,
either where you desfre or anywhere else, for I do so long to see you, that I am
sure, had you as m/\ich mind to see your poor wife again, you would propose
it. But do as you please ; I wiU say no more, but that I love you so much it
cannot increase, else I am sore it would."
There is a Uttle tender reproach implied in the concluding
sentence. Perhaps Mary thought of Elizabeth ViUiers, and
wished to prevent her from holding a first conference with
her husband ; however, neither the queen nor her rival were
to meet WiUiam so soon as was expected. His next despatch
declared that his return was delayed, on which inteUigence
her majesty thus expresses herself, in a letter' dated
" WhitehaU, Aug. ji 1690.
" Unless I could express the joy I had at the thoughts of your coming, it will
be vain to undertake teUing you of the disappointment 'tis to me you do not come
so soon. I begin to be in great pain lest you should be in the storm a-Thursday
night, which I am told was great, though its being a father side of the' house,
hindered my hearing it, but was soon deUvered by your letter of the 29th from
Ch.* I confess I deserve such a stop [i. e. the delay of the king's return] to my
joy, since, may be, it was too great, and I not thankful enough to God, and we
are here apt to be too vam upon so quick a success. But I have mortification
' This was the messenger with king WiUiam's letters.
^ The king delayed his return tUl a month afterwards.
' Dafrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 153.
* Chapelford, where WUUam's head-quarters were at that instant, is probably
the place indicated by this contraction. The queen usually contracts proper
names; thus lord Nottingham is always lord Nott; Pembroke, lord Pern;
Marlborough, Marl; Feversham, Fev; lord chamberkin, cham, &c.

MAEY II. 293
enough to think that your dear person may be again exposed at the passage of
the Shannon, as it was at that of the Boyne ; this is what goes to my heart.
But yet I see the reasons for it so good, that I wiU not murmur, for certainly
the glory would be greater to terminate the war this summer, and the people
here are much better pleased than if they must furnish next year for the same
thing again. Upon these considerations I ought to be satisfied, and I wiU
endeavour, as much as may be, to submit to the wiU of God and your judgment ;
l)ut you must forgive a poor wife, who loves you so dearly, if I can't do it
with dry eyes. Since it has pleased God so wonderfuUy to preserve you all your
life, and so miraculously now, I need not doubt but he will stUl preserve you.
Yet let me beg of you not to expose yourself unnecessarily ; that wiU be too
much tempting that Providence, wliich I hope -wiU stiU watch over you.
" Mr. EusseU is gone down to the fleet last Thursday, to hasten, as much as
may be, all things there, and wUl be back a-Monday, when there is a great
council appointed. I don't doubt but this commission wiU find many obstacles,
and this [naming KiUigrew] among such as don't like him wUl be called in
question, as weU as the other two, [i. e. Ashby and Haddick,] and I shaU hear
again 'tis a thing agreed among two or three.
" I wiU not write now, no more than I used to do what others can ,-' and,
indeed, I am fit for nothing this day. My heart is so opprest, I don't know
what to do. I have been at Kensington for some hours' quiet, to-morrow being
the first Sunday of the month, and have made use of lord Portland's closet as I
told you in my last I would. The house [Kensington-palace] would have been
ready by Tuesday night, and I hope will be in better order now, — at least,
it shaU not be my fault if it is not. I shaU be very impatient to hear again from
you, tUl when, I shaU he in perpetual pain and trouble, which I think you can't
wonder at, knowing that you are dearer to me than my life."
The cabals in the two councils, relative to the command
of the beaten and disgraced fieet of England, continued to
harass the queen. The fine na"vy her father had formed for
his destroyers was at the command of Mary, — at least, all
that remained of it from the two disastrous defeats that
had foUowed her accession. But the harpies of corrup
tion had rushed in; the rigilant eye, which watched over
the proper appointment of stores and necessaries, was dis
tant. The elective sovereigns durst not complain of the pe
culations, which had become systematic; the English fleet
was degraded, not for want of brave hearts and hands, and
fine ships, but because aU the civUians concerned in finding
stores, ammunition, prorision, and pay, pUfered daringly.
The consequence was, that none of James's former sea-
captains could be induced to take a command which must,
' So -written by the queen. In her hurry and trouble of mind, she has failed
to express her meaning clearly, which is, " I wiU not now write to you any
thing which can he written by others, for, indeed, I am fit for nothing to-day,"
&c. &c.

294 MAEY II.
perforce, end in disgrace, when the British na-vy came in
colUsion with the weU-appointed ships which Louis XIV,
had been raising for the last twenty years.
Queen Mary was fuUy justified by her husband in the
displeasure she had expressed at the insolence of sfr Thomas
Lee. She expresses her satisfaction at finding that the king
riewed the affront in the same Ught as herself, in the fol
lowing manner : — "Queen Maet to Kino William. " 'WhitehaU, Aug. ,% 1690.
" Last night I received yours of the 3rd of July, and with great satisfaction,
that it was plain; you approving of my anger is a great ease to me, and I hope
may make things go on the better, if it be possible, though great pains are
taken to hinder the persons named from serving at aU,' or from agreeing, but I
hope to Uttle purpose."
In order to deprive sir Richard Haddick of the royal favour,
a Dutchman of the queen's household was employed to teU
her sfr Richard raUed furiously at every thing Dutch. The
queen had him caUed to account for it ; and afterwards wrote
to the king, that she considered he had cleared himself.
She mentioned, that lord Torrington had very earnestly
demanded his trial, but doubted whether his acquittal would
not greatly incense the Dutch at that time.' A scheme she
aUudes to for the delay of his trial, comes the nearest to
unrighteous diplomacy of any portion of these letters; for
if the Englishman deserved his acquittal, he had a right
to it, whether the Dutch approved of it or not.
" I should not write you this thought of mine, if I did not find several [of the
councU] of my mind, which makes me apt to beUeve I am not quite in the
wrong, — but that you know better ; and you may beUeve I shall do as much as
lies in my power to follow your directions in that, and all things whatever, and
¦ The four were RusseU, Haddick, KUlIgrew, and Ashby ; aU excepting Had
dick, were extremely unwilling to take the command the queen offered them, and
thus to risk the fate of lord Torrington. The historical result of aU the queen's
anxious deUberations was, that Torrington was sent to the Tower on the 9th of
August, and Haddick, KiUigrew, and Ashby appointed joint admirals of the
fleet. EusseU positively refused serving -with Haddick, having an intrigue on
foot to advance Marlborough's brother, captain Churcbiil, over the heads of the
veterans, as wiU be shown in the queen's succeeding letters.
^ The Dutch navy was most severely handled by the French. The Dutch ac
cused Torrington of remaining passive, and seeing -with pleasure the French
contest the day with them ; but the bad state of the English fleet is most
evident by Carmarthen's letter to king WiUiam, afready quoted.

MAEY IL 295
am never so easy as when I have them. Judge, tAen, what a joy It was for me
to have your approbation of my behaviour ; the kind way you express it in, is
the only comfort I can possibly have in your absence. What other people say, I
ever suspect ; but when yoa, teU me I have done well, I could be almost vain
upon it."
It was this intimate union of purpose and of interest be
tween these two sovereigns, and the entfre confidence in
each other, that produced thefr great worldly prosperity.
The same resiUt is usuaUy the case where unanimity pre-
vaUs between a married pafr, in whatever rank of life thefr
lot may be cast, for never was a prophecy, or proverb, more
divinely true, than that pronounced by the Sariour : " A
house dirided against itself cannot stand."
" I am sure," continues the queen's narrative of events, " I have aU the rea
son in the world to praise God, who has sustained me in things so difficult to
flesh and blood, and has given me more courage than 1 could have hoped for. I
am sm-e 'tis so great a mercy, I can never forget it. We have received many ;
God send us grace to value them as we ought ! But nothing touches people's
hearts here enough to make them agree; that would be too much happiness.
Lord Nottingham wUl give you an account of all things, and of some letters,
which by great luck are fallen into our hands. I have been at Kensington this
evening, and made it now so late, that I am very sleepy, and so can't say much
more. I shall only assure you, that I shaU take aU the pains I can. Kensington
is ready. Had you come this night, as 1 did flatter myself you would have
done, you could have lain there, that is to say, in the councU-cbamber ; and
there I fear you must lie when you do come, which Grod grant may he soon. I
must needs teU you on the subject, that when it was first known yon intended to
come back, 'twas then said, ' What ! leave Ireland unconquered, — ^the work un
finished ?' Now, upon your not coming, 'tis wondered whose coimcU this is, and
why leave us thus to ourselves in our danger ? Thus people are never satis
fied. But I must not begin upon the subject, which would take up volumes,
and, as much as I was prepared, surprises me to a degree that is beyond expres
sion. I have so many several [different] things to say to you, if I Uve to seo
yon, that 1 fear you wiU never have patience to hear half; but you wUl not
wonder if I am surprised at things which, though you are used to, are quite new
to me.
" I am very impatient to hear if you are over the Shannon : that passage
frights me. You must excuse me teUing my fears : I love you too much to hide
them, and that makes aU dangers seem greater, it may be, than they are. I
pray God, in his mercy, keep you, and send us a happy meeting here on earth
first, before we meet in heaven. If I could take more pains to deserve your
kindness, that which you write would make me do it ; but that has been ever
so much my desfre, that I can't do more for you, nor love you better."
SimUar expressions of tenderness pervade her letter, dated
August "VS intermixed -with state information and councU
disputes relative to calUng a new parliament, and of the
bankrupt state of the treasury, of which "sad stories are

296 MAEY II.
told," the queen says, "by Mr. Hampden,' which I fear
-vrill prove true." "Queen Maet to Kino- William. " 'Whitehall, Aug. 'g°. 1690. ,
" I have had no letter from yon since that of the 31st, from Chapelford : what
1 suffer by it you cannot imagine. I don't say this by way of complaint, for I
really believe you write as often as 'tis convenient or necessary ; but yet I cannot
help being extremely desirous of hearing again from yon. This passage of the
river Shannon runs much in my mind, and gives me no quiet, night nor day. I
have a million of fears, which are caused by what you can't be angry at, and if I
were less sensible I should hate myself, though I wish I were not so fear full ;
and yet one can hardly go without t'other, — ^but 'tis not reasonable I should tor
ment you with any of this.
" Lord steward [Devonshire] desires me to let you know he has had a letter
from monsieur et madame de Grammon, about her brother, Mr. Ham[Uton].
They earnestly desire he may he exchanged for lord Mountjoy."
The celebrated family group thus named by queen Mary,
were all individuals intimately known to her in her youth,
Madame de Grammon was the beautiful Miss Hamilton,
who married the count de Grammont. He resided some
time at the court of Charles II., which (if possible) he
made worse than he found it. Mr. H[amilton,' mentioned
by the queen, was the brother of the lady; he is better
known as the witty count Anthony Hamilton, the author
whose pen embodied the scandalous reminiscences of his
brother-in-law, under the title of Memoires de Grammont,
Count Anthony Hamilton was now a prisoner from the battle
of the Boyne, He had greatly incensed king William, by
undertaking to induce lord-Ueutenant Tyrconnel to yield
up Ireland to him ; and when he had obtained all the con
fidence -with which the whigs could trust him, he posted over
to Ireland, and did all in his power, by pen, interest, or
' This gentleman was as much concerned in the revolution of 1688, as his
more celebrated ancestor had been in that of 1640, who declared death to be
peculiarly welcome when it came on the battle-field at Chalgrove ; but it came
not speedily enough to his descendant, whose own desperate hand committed
suicide. His name, as a bribed tool of France, at the time of the agitation of
' the popish plot,' is disgustingly apparent on BariUon's black list of payments
made. — See Dalrymple's copy of the documents. Appendix, part i. p. 316. The
whole of BariUon's despatches should be read; Ukewise p. 286. The originals
are under the care of M. Dumont, a learned contemporary, at Les Affaires
Ftrangeres, at Paris.
^ The queen has throughout -written his name, according to her usual abbre
viations, JIam; but his description as the countess do Grammont's brother,
clearly identifies liim.

MAEY II. 297
sword, in the cause of his master, king James. A man of
delicate honour could not, would not, have accepted the
confidence of William, or acted thus ; but a few falsehoods
more or less broke no squares -with the author of the scan
dalous chronicle aforesaid. Yet it is strange to find count
Anthony HamUton risking at once his life and his honour in
the serrice of James IL, whom he had UbeUed so riciously,
and after his ruin too !
When HamUton was brought into the presence of WU
liam, a prisoner at the Boyne, he was questioned as to
the forces still maintaining the contest. His answer was
doubted, when he maintained it by the asseveration, " On
my honour !" At this, WiUiam turned contemptuously
away, muttering, " Honour ! on your honour !" History
leaves the Uterary soldier in this very bad predicament.
No one has ever noticed that queen Mary interested her
self so deeply for him, and she continued her letter, excus
ing herself, however, for interfering in the behalf of a man
so thoroughly on her husband's black Ust, by her sympathy
for the sufferings of lord Mountjoy's family. Lord Mount-
joy was then a prisoner in the BastUle, and Louis XIV.
offered to exchange him for Hamilton.'
" I told lord Devonshire that I knew nothing of Ham[Uton]'s faults, which I
see he is very apprehensive the parliament wUl take into consideration, if he
[Hamilton] be not out of thefr power. But that upon his [lord Devonshfre's]
earnest desfre I would let you know it, I would have had him [Devonshfre] write
it you himself; but he begs me to do it.
" As for lord Mountjoy, I hope you wUl consider if any thing can be done for
him. I can never forget that I promised his son's wife to speak to you, and she
really died of grief, which makes me pity her case. His family is in a miserable
way, and I am daUy soUcited by his eldest daughter about him. If you would
let lord Portland give me some answer to this, I should be very glad, for I can't
wonder at people's desiring an answer, though I am tormented myself."
The queen's humane appeal in behalf of lord Mountjoy's
unfortunate children was sucpessful, inasmuch as there ap
pears in king WiUiam's Secret-serrice book a notation of a
pittance allowed to them, small indeed in comparison -with
' Mountjoy, who was considered the head of the Protestants in Ireland, went
to France to demonstrate to James II. how impossible it was for Ireland to
resist WilUam and Mary. He had been seized and sent to the Bastille by Louis
XI'V., as a punishment for undertaking this mission; therefore queen Mary had
every right to interest herself in his behalf.

298 MAEY II.
that weekly paid to the perjurer Titus Gates.' There is little
doubt but that the united interest of the queen and the earl
of Devonshire, to say nothing of that of the fafr Grammont,
obtained the release of HamUton, for he soon after re-ap
peared at the court of St. Germains. " I have staid," con
tinues the queen, " tiU I am ready to go to bed, and can
now put off the sealing of my letter no longer. I pray God
to give me patience and submission. I want the first ex
ceedingly; but I hope all is well, especially your dear self,
who I love much better than life."
The queen was about the same time deeply occupied in
receiring the confessions of the lords Annandale, Breadal
bane, and Ross. These men were not originally the friends
of her father, but his enemies, who, ¦with sfr James Mont
gomery, had headed the deputation sent to offer her and her
husband the cro-wn of Scotland, and to receive thefr oaths.
They deemed they had not been rewarded commensurately
-vrith thefr merits, and therefore joined the -vridely ramified
plot against the government, which the death of the great
Dundee had disorganized in the preceding year. According
to what might be expected from the treachery of thefr cha
racters, there was a race between these persons as to who
should first betray the devoted Jacobites who had unfortu
nately trusted them. The titled informers made a bargain,
that they were not to be brought in personal evidence against
thefr rictims. Breadalbane, incognito, waylaid the king at
Chester, to teU his tale.' Annandale came in disguise to
the queen for the same purpose, and, it is said, had an in
terview with her on the evening of her bfrthday.' Ross
(regarding whose imprisonment the queen has described a
contest between herself and the privy councU) now offered
' The same summer, there is an entry to the foUowing efi'eet : —
" Lady Mountjoy's chUdren upon our aUowance of il.
per week to them  12 0 0"
Extract from king WiUiam's Secret-service accounte, Ireland, with which we
have been favoured by sfr Denys Norreys, hart.
^ Dalrymple's Memofrs.
• Dalrymple's Memoirs, It could not have been this year, as her bfrthday,
AprU 30, had occurred before the king went to Ireland.

iL^EY IL 299
to confess to her aU he knew ; but, as he refused to reiterate
his confessions as a -witness against those he had accused,
the queen finaUy committed him to the Tower.
"Queen Maet to King William:. " Whitehall, Aug. «, 1690.
" You cannot imag^e the miserable condition I was in last night. I think if
your letter had not come as it did, I should have fallen sick -with fear for your
dear person; but all that trouble made your news of the French having left
Limmerick the more welcome, I wUl not say your letters, for those are ever so.
I am sure this news aflfords new reason of praising God, since I hope it wiU pre
vent any more fighting. You speak of your coming back now in a way which
makes me hope, not only that it wUl be quickly, but that you will come willingly,
and that is a double joy to me ; for befoi-e,_ I confess, I was afraid to have seen
you dissatisfied when you were here, and that would have been very unpleasant ;
but now, I hope 'm. God to see you soon, and see you as weU pleased as this place
wUl suffer you to be, for I fancy you wUl find people reaUy worse and worse."
" Lord steward," [the earl of Devonshfre,] continues
Mary, faUing into her usual style of narrative,
" was with me this afternoon, witb whom I had a long conversation, which wiU
be worth your whUe knowing when you come ; but he has made me promise to
write you word now some part of it, which is, that he begs you ' to consider if
you wiU not have a new parUament, for this,' he is sure, 'will do no good:
this,' he says, ' is his opinion.' I see it is a thing they are mightily set upon.
Lord president, methinks, has very good arguments to ti-y this [parUament]
first ; but of aU tliis you wiU judge best when you come. I can't imagine how
it comes to pass that you have not received my letter of the 26th July ; I am
sure I writ,' and that you wUl have had it by this time, or else there must be
some carelessness in it, which must be lookt after.
" I have had tills evening lord Annandale, who is to tell all, and then I am to
procure a pardon from you ; but I think I shall not be so easUy deceived by him,
as I fear lord MelviUe has been by sfr James Montgomery. But these are things
to talk of when you come back, which I pray God may he very soon. 'Tis the
greatest joy in the world to hear you are so weU. 1 pray God continue it. I
hope this wUl meet you upon your way back ; so it goes by express, that it may
not miss you. I can't express my impatience to see you; there is nothing
greater than that which it proceeds fi-om, which wUl not end but with my
Ufe." The ajrrival of two Dutchmen in the mean time, caused her
majesty to add, as postscript, " I have seen Mr. Hop and
Mr. Olderson, but have to say no more. You wUl have au
account of the business of the admfralty from lord Nott."
Mr. Hop was ambassador from the Hogan Mogans, — the
States-General. The utmost jealousy was excited among
' She did write, and the reader, on looking back, -wiU see it is a hurried, Ul-
speUed letter, on which some comment has been made. Mary reckons here by
the new style.

300 MAEY II.
the other diplomatists, because he had been received ¦vrith a
greater number of bows than any of them. Queen Mary
likewise sent her best coach and horses, ¦with their gayest
trappings, attended by forty running footmen and pages, to
fetch Mr. Hop to Whitehall when he brought his creden
tials.' "Queen Maet to Kino William. " ¦WhitehaU, Aug. ?§, 1690.
" Though I have nothing to say to you worth writing, yet I cannot let any
express go without doing it, and Mr. Sop, it seems, beUeves this business of the
Swedish ship too considerable to stay tUl to-morrow. The commissioners of the
admiralty have resolved to come to me to-morrow, with some names for flags.
Mr. EusseU recommends ChurchiU and EUmor, because, he says, nothing has
been done for them, though they were both trusted when you came over, and
have ever been very true to your interest ; but I think, if it be possible, to let
them alone till you come, though Mr. EusseU seems to think it cannot be
delayed. I shaU hear (if it must be so) what the other commissioners think,
and do as well as I can."
Had the queen possessed the smallest germ of poUtical
justice, she would have recoiled from appointing captain
Churchill to a place of trust. He had, in the succeeding
year, been expelled from the house of commons for his
peculations, by receiring convoy-money, and had at the
same time been deprived of the naval command he abused.
Taking convoy-money of merchant ships had been sternly
forbidden by the sea-king, James IL; but among the erils of
WUUam and Mary's government was a most injurious one,
that convoys were seldom provided, and when they were,
the captains of the ships of war impoverished the merchant
by the extortion of convoy-money.' ChurchiU was brother
to lord Marlborough, and worthy of the brotherhood : his
ship had been the first to desert king James. Queen Mary
seems to have considered that ChurchiU's serrice to her
party, by thus leading the race of treachery, covered a mul
titude of sins. At first, king WiUiam stood aghast at the
' Lamberty.
" A petition to the house of commons from the London merchants, presented
Nov. 14th, 1689, proves that, in the first year of the Eevolution, one hundred
merchant ships, worth 600,000^., were lost for want of convoys, or by the cor
ruption of the naval captains. Captain ChurchUl's conduct appeared in such a
Ught, that he was expelled the house four days after. — See Journals of the
House of Commons, 1689.

MAEY II. 301
rapacity with which such men as the Churchills, and other
patriots of the same stamp, fiew on the quarry of the pubUc
money, which had been so carefully guarded by the frugality
of king James : it seemed as if the Revolution had been
only effected for liberty of theft. At that very moment
queen Mary had suspended the habeas corpus law; the
Tower and other prisons were full of captives, seized on her
mere signature ; the summer cfrcuits of the itinerary justices
were delayed at her dictum. English soldiers and seamen
were subjected to the horrors of the lash, and many millions
of debt, besides enormous outlays, had been incurred since
her father's deposition. AU was submitted to by the well-
meaning people, supposing these portentous measures were
effected by the united wisdom of parliament.
The present system of military punishments can be traced
no farther back than the era of WUliam and Mary. Two
Scotch regiments, commanded by lord Dumbarton at the
Revolution, refused to submit to Williapi after James II. had
dismissed them, and unfurling their standards, commenced
a bold march to Scotland ; but, unfortunately for them
selves, they encumbered their progress home with four can
nons, because these instruments of destruction had originally
belonged to Edinburgh-castle. WiUiam III. caused the
regiments to be pursued, and to be surrounded. To make
vengeance legal on these soldiers, the mutiny bUl was brought
into parliament by the ministers of WilUam and Mary;'
the result was, that British soldiers were, whether serving
in these islands or abroad, subjected to the punishments
which prevaUed among William's foreign mercenaries, — the
¦wickedest and cruellest troops that England had ever seen,
as Ireland knew fuU well. "V\Tien king William was armed
with the terrific power given by the mutiny bill, he broke
the loyal Scotch regiments, gave the officers leave to go
wheresoever they pleased, and distributed the unfortunate
common soldiers among his troops. The most resolute he
sent to Flanders, where, if they were not flogged to death,
it was no fault of the mutiny bUl and the Dutch code which
' Dafrymple's History of the Eevolution,

302 MAEY II.
had superseded that of St. George.' Stranger innovations
even than these took place in this free country. Among
the Somers' Tracts in the British Museum there is a com
plaint, that the government in 1690, not content with in
stituting a sharp press of men for both army and navy,
actuaUy forced women into the serrice of the camp and into
the navy, at the rate of ten for every ship of war, as nurses,
sempstresses, and laundresses. The atrocities to which such
a system naturally gave rise need no comment, but lead at
least to the conclusion, that if the Dutch prince were a
liberator, it was not over every class of the British people
that his blessings were difiused.
Queen Mary, in her next letter, flattered her husband's
known tastes by depreciating Whitehall, the palace of her
ancestors : —
" I have been this day to Kensington, which looks reaUy very well, at least
to a poor body Uke me, who have been so long condemned to this place, and see
nothing but waU and water. I have received a letter from lord Dursley, who I
suppose wiU write of the same thing to yourself, and therefore I shaU not do it.
I am very impatient for another letter, hoping that wiU bring me the news of
your coming back ; 'tis impossible to believe how impatient I am for that, nor
how much I love you, which wUl not end but with my Ufe."
The succeeding letter is wholly personal : —
"Queen Maet to King William.
" WhitehaU, Aug. \\, 1690.
" I only write for fashion's sake, for I really have nothing in the world to
say; yet I am resolved never to miss an opportunity of doing it wliUe I Uve.
To-morrow I am to go to the great council, [privy-councU,] where my lord mavor
and aldermen are to come to be thanked for thefr two regiments, and released
of them. "When that is over, I go, if it please God, to Hampton-Court, which
I fear wUl not be much advanced.
" It has been such a storm of rain and wind this whole day, that I thanhi
God with my whole heart that you could not be near the sea. I hope the iU
weather will spend itself now, that when you do come, you may have a quick
passage. I have seen Mr. Zulestein to-day, who is so tanned that he frights me."
' It is acknowledged by the government, in a MS. requisition to the council
of Scotland, that "these regiments having lost aU thefr men by death and
desertion in Flanders, more recruits must be sent." The Scotch tradition is,
that resisting these new laws, the soldiers were aU tortured to death with the
lash. The extract, with other valuable matter, was obtained through the
courteous permission of W. Pitt Dundas, esq., fi-om the royal Eecords of Scot
land, Privy Council-books MS., Edinburgh. The code of St. George is in m-
telUgible language : it may be seen, in the Fojdera, that there was no floggmg
in the days of tho Plantagenets. Captain Marryat, in one of his brUliant naval
sketches, is the first person who has ever traced this anti-national cruelty to the
Dutch king.

MAEY II. 303
Zulestein is the same person whose marriage with Mary
Worth caused queen Mary so much trouble in her youth.
He was the beau of the Dutch court, and baring made the
Irish campaign with the king, had injured his fine com
plexion, which is rather affectedly mentioned by the queen.
He was inseparable from the king, unless despatched on
some mission wherein his diplomatic cunning was indis
pensable. "Queen Maet to Kin& William. " Whitehall, Aug. f|, 1690.
" This time I write with a better heart than the last, because it goes by an
express which must find you out, — may be, the common post wiU not. I have
a paper to send you, which lord Nottingham is to copy, which is what lord
Annandale has made sfr WiUiam Lochart [Lockhart] write, because he was not
willing it should be seen in his own band.
" I thinlc 1 writ you word," continues her majesty's narrative of current
events, " or should have done, that he lord [Annandale] sent by his wife to sfr
WiUiam that he would surrender himself, if he might be sure not to be made an
evidence of. Upon which, sfr WilUam drew up conditions that he should tell all,
and then he should be made no evidence, and has my word to get your pardon.
I think I writ you this before ; but to be short, he is come in, and I have spoke
twice with him.
" Lord Annandale told me, that after the time the papers were burnt, (where.
with this ends,) sir James Montgomery proposed sending a second message by
the same, Simson ; but he [Annandale] rejected it as much as he durst, but was
afraid to tell him plainly he would not. So having a mind to get out of this,
he [Annandale] pretended business at his own house in the country ; but his
coldness made sfr James Montgomery the warmer in it, and assure him that he
would spend his Ufe and fortune in that interest," [meaning the interest of her
father]. The result of these private conferences ¦with the queen
was, that Neal, or NeriU Payne, the tutor of the young earl
of Mar,' should be forced to take upon himself the infamy
of legal informer regarding the secrets of this Jacobite con-
spfracy, from which detestable task Montgomery, Annan
dale, Breadalbane, and the rest of the real betrayers had
bargained -with the queen to be excused. The queen and
these double traitors, deeming Ne^vUl Payne a plebeian " fel
low of no reckoning," had not the most distant idea of the
high-spfrited scorn ¦vrith which he resisted both bribes and
torture, and showed to high-born informers how a man of
the people could keep his oath and his word. The dread
ful scenes that ensued certainly belong to this portion of
' Dafrymple's Appendix, part ii. p. 161.

304 MAEY II.
the queen's government, although they actually occurred
some days after king WiUiam's return to England, The
queen's letters are worded with guarded mystery, but, as
the prime-minister of Scotland, lord MelvUle, was at her
court in England co-operating with her in guiding the whole
affair, and her personal conferences with the real informers
were frequent, it is utterly impossible to acquit her of pre-
knowledge of the atrocities that ensued,' In the paper
enclosed by the queen to the king, as the confession of lord
Annandale to the queen, written by the hand of sir WiUiam,
Lockhart, according to the words of her letter above, NeriU
Payne is thrice mentioned as being present at the Jacobite
meeting at the Globe tavern, near Northumberland-house,
Strand: the Jacobites were likewise convened under the
Piazzas, Covent-garden. The paper is too long and heavy
to be inserted here;' we must be content with giving our
readers the gist of the queen's part in the affafr, as briefly as
the records of a conspfracy which fill a large quarto wUl
permit. Mary again alluded to the mysterious man who encoun
tered her spouse at Chester, whom she now distinctly names
as lord Breadalbane, saying,
" Lord Breadalbane came to see lord Annandale on his way to Chester, where
he went to meet you. He told him that sfr James Montgomery had certainly
sent another message, [i. e. to king James, her father,] but he [Breadalbane]
was not engaged in it, and he beUeved nobody was but lord Arran, though he
could not be positive that lord Ross was not likewise in. This he told me last
night, and desfres 'to be askit more questions, not knowing but he might
remember more than he can yet think of.' Thus he seems to deal sincerely, bnt,
to say the truth, I think one does not know what to beUeve. But this I am
certain off [of], that lord Ross did not keep his word with me, much less has sir
James Montgomery with lord MelviUe ; for he has been in town ever since this
day was seven-night, and I have heard nothing of him, — a plain breach of the
conditions. " I hope in God I shaU soon hear from you : 'tis a long wliile since I have,
but I am not so uneasie as I was the last time, yet enough to make me -wish
extremely for a letter. ' Cunningham's History of England.
' Printed in Dalrymple's Appendix, part u. p. 103, and is the same paper, the
copy of which the queen mentions here as enclosed to the king ; for it is dated
the 14th of August, 1690, and endorsed " as given by sfr William Lockhart to
her most exceUent majesty the queen."

MAEY IL 305
" VLone^ is to send lord Portland, by this post, a copy of a letter from Mr.
Priestman, in which you wUl see what need you have of that Divine protection
which has hitherto so watched over you, and which only can make me easy for
your dear sake. The same God who has hitherto so preserved you, wiU, I hope,
continue, and grant us a happy meeting here, and a blessed one hereafter.
Farewell ! 'tis too late for me to say any more, but that I am ever and intirely
yours, and shaU be so tiU death."
The queen, in the continuation of her narrative, affected
to regret her former days passed in HoUand.
In a remarkable letter, dated WhitehaU, August ff , 1690,
Mary says, —
" Last night, when it was just a week since I had heard from you, I received
yours of the ^|, after I was a-bed. I was extremely glad to find by it you had
passed the Shannon, but cannot be without fears, since the enemys have stUl an
army together, which, though it has once more run away from you, may yet
grow desperate, for aught I know, and fight at last. These are the things I
cannot help fearing, and as long as I have these fears, you may beUeve I can't be
easy ; yet I must look over them, if possible, or presently every body thinks all
lost."
Thus, the royal countenance was viewed, by those who
habituaUy studied it, as a species of poUtical barometer,
from which might be learned news of the fate of the Irish
campaign or the Jacobite plots. Hence arose the imper
turbable demeanour which Mary assumed, designedly, as a
diplomatic mask.
" Tliis is no smaU part of my penance, but all must be endured as long as it
please God, and I have stiU abundant cause to praise him, who has given you
this new advantage. I pray God to continue to bless you, and make us aU as
thankful as we ought, but I must own that the thoughts of your staying longer
is very uneasy to me. God give me patience !
" I hope you wiU be so kind as to write oftener, whUe you are away. It is
really the only comfort this world affords, and if you knew what a joy it is to
receive such a kind one as your last, you would by that, better than any thing
else, be able to judge of mine for you ; and the beUef that what you say on that
subject is true, is able to make me bear any thing. When I writ last, I was
extream sleepy, and so fuU of my Scotch business, that I really forgot Mr.
Harbord."The queen had sent him to apologize to the Dutch for the
defeat of thefr fleet off Beachy Head. Her message of con
dolence was not very complimentary to the seamen of her
country, who, under the command of her father, had so
often beaten them. Indeed, EngUsh Mary, in this whole
affafr, comported herself much Uke a Dutchwoman; for, in
' Meaning the queen's French secretary, D'Alonne.
VOL. VII. X

806 MAEY II.
her condolence, she directly accused her countrymen "of
cowardice," and said, -withal, " she had sent lord Torrington
to the Tower," ' She Ukevrise had the Dutch saUors taken
care of in the hospitals in preference to the EngUsh, which^
to be sure, was only right in a strange country. The States,
in return, sent most affectionate answers, and a supply of
ships. She continues,—
" Harbord wrote to sfr E. Southwell, as he told me, hut he has a great deal
to say. He pleased me extremely to hear how much people love me there. When
I think of that, and see what folk do here, it grieves me too mmch, for
Holland has really spoiled me im, being so kind to me : that they are so to
TOU, 'tis no wonder. I wish to God it was the same here, but I ask your
pardon for this : if I once begin upon this subject, I can never have done.
" To put it out of my head, I must put you once more in mind of the custos
rotulorum for lord Fitzharding : he thinks his honour depends on it, since it
has been so long in his family."
The rest of her letter is taken up with the solicitations of
Marlborough that his peculating brother might be made
an admfral, and for that purpose be put over the head
of a veteran officer, despite of the protestations of the lord
president Carmarthen : —
" Marlborough says, that lord president may write to you about one Carter.
'Tis like enough he wUI, for he tells me he is a much older officer, and will qmt
if others come over his head, and says, ' aU goes by partiaUty and faction,' as,
indeed, I think 'tis but too plain in other things. How it is in this, you are
best able to judge. I writ you word before what Mr. EusseU said. You wiU
do hi it as you please, for I told the commissioners myself that ' I hoped you
would be here soon, and that I did not see why this matter should not stay for
your coming.' And so I resolve to leave it, if 'tis possible, but could not refuse
my lord Marlborough, nor uideed myself, the writing you the matter as it is,
though he expects I should write in his favour, which, though I would not pro
mise, yet 1 did make him a sort of compliment after my fashion."^
What fashion this was, both biographer and reader would
equaUy like to know ; but, if we may judge by the preced
ing words, it was not a very sincere one. Queen Mary,
however, evidently desired to appoint ChurchUl, broken
as he was for dishonesty, both by parUament and navy,
in preference to the brave Carter, who died a few months
afterwards on the deck of his ship in her cause. The
confession of sir John Fen-wick, made after her death,
names Carter as one of her father's warmest friends ; and,
at the same time, impUcates Marlborough, RusseU, and
' Dafrymple's Appendix, part U. p. 163. s Ibid.

MARY II. 307
ChurchiU, as in correspondence with the Jacobites. It is
a strange task to compare the letters extant of aU these
personages : it is Uke looking into a series of windows,
which betray to the observer aU that passed in those treach
erous bosoms, untU death revealed to them the uselessness
of thefr toils and deceits.
The queen, before she -wrote again, was alarmed by the
vague rumour of one of the daring actions performed by
Sarsfield, her father's partisan in Ireland, who intercepted
the supplies of cannons, provisions, and money which she
had sent from England for the aid of her husband's troops,
then besieging Limerick : —
"Queen Maet to KiNa William. " "WhitehaU, Aug. f}, 1690.
" This is only to let you know that I have received your dupUcate of the 14tb,
which came by Waterford, and got hither last night by nine o'clock. There was
no time lost in obeying your orders, but I have several remarks to make another
time. " Sfr Robert SouthweU's letter speaks of a misfortune to the artUlery (which
he refers to your letter) that is coming' by DubUn. I cannot imagine the reason
'tis not come yet, nor can I help being very impatient for it, [about it]. The
messenger teUs an imperfect story, which makes a great noise in the town, [in
London,] and does not lessen the desfre for knowing the truth ; besides, 'tis such
a comfort to hear from you, that I can't be blamed for wishing it. This is aU I
wiU say to-night, for should I begin to teU my fears that you wUl not be back so
soon as I could wish, I should trouble you, and write myself asleep, it being late.
You know my heart : I need say nothing of that, 'tis so entfrely yours."
The next day brought the confirmation of the bad news.
The event was briefly as follows : WiUiam had advanced
to Limerick on August the 8th, o.s. Three days after the
siege commenced, colonel Sarsfield, baring got inteUigence
that the battering cannon and ammunition were expected
to arrive in WUliam's camp next morning, went secretly
out of Limerick with his forces, and laid an ambush among
the mountains. When the convoy arrived, he made a
sudden attack, spiked the cannon, and exploded the ammu
nition. The Irish, in their eagerness, blew up -with it three
barrels of money, which the queen had sent her husband.
The uproar alarmed the EngUsh camp, but Sarsfield re-
' The queen's ideas are confused between the artiUery and her expected letter.
We find by her succeeding letters, that this "cross," as she piously calls it,
delayed the talcing of Limerick.
X 2

308 MAEY II.
turned safely back to Limerick,' The queen alludes to
Sarsfield's successful action in her despatch' dated
« "WhitehaU, Sep. 1, (Aug. 22,) 1690.
" This day at noon I received yours, which came by the way of Dublin, and
am sorry to see the messenger's news confirmed ; but it has pleased God to bless
you with such continued success, that it may be necessary to have some little
cross. I hope in God this wiU not prove a main one to the main business,'
though it is a terrible thought to me that your coming is put off again for so
long time. I think it so, I'm sure, and have great reason, every manner of
way. " I will say nothing of what my poor heart suffers, but must teU you that I
am now in great pain about the naming of the flags. Mr. EusseU came to me
last night, and said it would now be absolutely necessary. I insisted upon staying
till I heard from you. He desfred to know 'if 1 had any particular reason p' I
told him, plainly, • that since I could not pretend to know myself who were the
fittest, it troubled me to see aU were not of a mind ; that I was told, by several
persons, that there were ancient officers in the fleet, who had behaved themselves
very weU this last time, [battle of Beachy Head,] and would certainly quit if
these were preferred; so he [EusseU] could not blame me if I desfred in this
difficulty to stay for your answer.' To this Eussell answered, in more passion
than I ever saw him, 'that Carter and Davis [the senior officers aUuded to] were
too pitiful fellows, and very mean seamen, though he knew lord president and
lord Nottingham had spoken for them ; and that next summer he would not
command the fleet, if they had flags.' After a long dispute about this matter, I
have put him off tUl the last moment comes when they are to saU. He [Rus
seU] says, ' then he must speak of it to the commissioners, and hear who will
speak against it, by which I may judge.'"
The matter was, for the promotion of the disgraced
brother of Marlborough to a flag. How strange it is that
queen Mary did not urge the impossibiUty of placing a
man, branded as Churchill was, in such a situation. In
these days, the pubUc press would have thundered their
anathemas against such a measure, wheresoever the English
language was read or spoken.
" I see lord Marlborough's heart is very much set on this matter, and Mr,
Eussell, as you may see by what I write. On t'other side," adds her majesty,
"lord president says, 'If ChurchUl have a flag, it wiU be called the flag by
favour, as his brother [Marlborough] is caUed the general by fa/cour.'"
Marlborough had as yet done little to justify, even in
the eyes of his party, the extraordinary course of prosperity
he had enjoyed, except by his services as revolutionist.
Few persons at this period gave him credit for his sluU
' Dafrymple's Memoirs, p. 447, coUated with KeUy's Contemporary History,
pubUshed by the Camden Society.
2 Dalrymple's Appendix, part U. p. 164.
» The siege of Lunerick; see Dafrymple's Appendix, p. 164,

MAEY II. 309
in miUtary tactics, on which his fame was founded in the
reign of Anne. As for his personal prowess, that was never
greatly boasted, even by his warmest admirers. Queen Mary
mentions, in the paragraph just quoted, the precise value at
which he was rated by the revolutionary party, his compeers
in 1690 ; and as she avowedly leant to the appointment of
his peculating brother to an admiral's flag, as shown in her
letter of August yf, she certainly does not speak with the
bitterness of opposition. Neither does queen Mary ever
manifest the slightest enmity to Marlborough himself in this
correspondence. Far from it; she always mentions him
with complacency, though she owns her dislike to his
wife. She continues, on the subject of the navy, —
" Lord president says, ' If ChurchiU have a flag, that absolutely this Carter
wiU quit : ' he commends him highly. Bnt I must tell you another thing, which
is, that he [lord president] is mightUy dissatisfied with the business of Kinsale.'
I see he does not oppose it, for he says, ' it is your order, and therefore must be
obeyed;' but I find be raises many difficulties to me. What he does to others I
cannot tell, but among other things he endeavours to fright me by the danger
there is of being so exposed, when the fleet and 5000 men are gone, which he
reckons aU the force, and teUs me how easy it wiU be then for the French to
come with only transport-ships, and do what they wiU."
The rictorious French fleet, which had for some weeks
prevented the king of Great Britain from returning from
Ireland, now began to find the autumnal seas dangerous ;
consequently, the passage was left free for WUliam III.
to slip over to England. The queen's narrative proceeds, —
" You wiU have an account from lord Nottingham of what has been done this
day and yesterday. I know you wUl pity me, and I hope wiU believe that had
your letter been less kind, I don't know what had become of me. 'Tis that only
malces me bear all that now so torments me, and I give God thanks every day
for your kindness. 'Tis such a satisfaction to me to find you are satis/^ed with
me, that I cannot express it ; and I do so flatter myself -with the hopes of being
once more happy with you, that that thought alone in this world makes me bear
all vrith patience. I pray God preserve yon from the dangers I hear you daily
expose yourself to, which puts me in continual pain. A battle, I fancy, is soon
over but the perpetual shooting you are now in is an intolerable thing to
think on. For God's sake, take care of yourself. You owe it to your own
[HoUand] and this country, and to aU in general. I must not name myself
where church and state are equaUy concerned, yet I must say you owe a little
care for my sake, who I am sm-e loves you more than you can do me ; and the
Uttle 'care you take of yom- dear person I take to be a sign of it, but I must stiU
love you more than Ufe."
' Kinsale and Cork stUl held out for her father.

310 MAEY II.
This tender strain pervades the letter she "wrote five
days after, in which she unveUs still more of her feelings^
and gives, ¦withal, some amusing family-gossip of the affairs
of king WiUiam's relatives : —
" Queen Maet to Kin& William.'
" WliitehaU, Sep. 5, (Aug. 26,) 1690.
" Yesterday I was very much disappointed when lord Nottingham brought me
a letter from you, to find it was only a dupUcate of a former, which brought your
orders to lord Marlborough, so that I have now received three of yours of one
date ; you may be sure they are all extreme welcome, but I confess that which
came yesterday would have been more so, had it been of a fresher date.
" I have been just now writing to your aunt, the princess of Nassau, in answer
to one which she -wrote, to let me know of her daughter being about to marry
the prince of Saxenschnach. I believe yon will be glad, fpr your cousin's sake,
that she wUl be disposed of before her mother dies ; and I ever heard it at the
Hague that this young man was good-natured, which wUl make him uee her
well, though she is so much older. And for his good fortune, she has enough
[good-nature] I beUeve, to govern him more gently than another cousin ofyowi
does her spouse."
Meaning herself and William : with playful frony, she con
trasts her own utter submission and devotion to her master
with the airs of a governing wife. She then opens her
o^wn heart to the object of her love, whUe her ostensible
purpose of sending cannon, and the use to be made of them,
are mingled strangely -with her honeyed sentences : —
" I can't help laughing at this wedding, though my poor heart is ready to
break every time I think in what perpetual danger you are. I am in greater
fears than can be imagined by any one who loves less than "myself. I count
the hours and the moments, and have only reason enough to think, as long as
I have no letters, aU is weU.
" I believe, by what you -write, that you got your cannon Friday at farthest;
and then Saturday, I suppose, you began to make use of them. Judge, then,
w^hat cruel thougbte they are to me, to think what you may be exposed to all
this whUe. I never do any thing without thinking now, it may be, you are in the
greatest dangers, and yet I must see company upon my sett days. I must play
twice a-week, — nay, I must laugh and talk, though never so much against my
wiU. I beUeve I dissemble very Ul to those who know me, — at least, 'tis a
great constraint to myself, yet I must endure it. AU my motions are so
watehed, and all I do so observed, that if I eat less, or speak less, or look more
grave, all is lost in the opmion of the world. So that I have this misery added
to that of your absence and my fears for your dear person, that I must grin
when my heart is ready to break, and talk when it is so oppressed I can scai-ce
breathe."^ Such was the result of the fruition of her ambition!
Surely Dante, in aU his descriptions of torture, whether
' Dafrymple's Memofrs, p. 166. 2 itid., p, 167.

MAEY II, 311
ludicrous or pathetic, or both combined, does not surpass
Mary's " grin when her heart was ready to burst." Queen
Mary, Uke aU the royal race of Stuart, excepting her sister
Anne, was bom -with Uterary abilities. Happily for her
self, she was unconscious of those powers, for the excit-
abUity of the brain devoted to Uterary pursuits is by no
means Ukely to soothe the thorns interwoven in every
regnal diadem. The calamities of authors are as proverbial
as those of kings, and both had been united in her hapless
race. It would be difficult for any professional pen to
have given a more forcible or beautiful transcript of human
feeling than this, which sprang in unstudied simpUcity
from the queen's mind, -written, as it avowedly Is, against
her inclination, in order to unburden her overcharged heart
to its only confidant. She continues, —
" I don't know what I should do, were it not for the grace of God, which
supports me. I am sure I have great reason to praise the Lord whUe I live, for
his great mercy that I don't sink under this affUction, — ^nay, that I keep my
health, for I can neither sleep nor eat. I go to Kensington as often as I can
for afr, but then I can never be quite alone; neither can I complain, — that
would be some ease ; but I have nobody whose humour and cfrcumstances agree
¦with mine enough to speak my mind freely. Besides, I must hear of business,
which, being a thing I am so new in, and so unfit for, does but break my brains
the more, and not ease my heart.
" I see I have msensibly made my letter too long upon my ovra self, hut I
am confident you love enough to bear it for once. I don't remember I have
been guUty of the Uke fault before since you went, and that is now three
months; for which time of almost perpetual fear and trouble this is but a
short account, and so I hope may pass."
It is apparent, from this passage, that Mary had been
chidden by her spouse on account of the length of these
letters. She resumes, —
" 'Tis some ease to me to write my pain, and 'tis some satisfaction to beUeve
you wiU pity me. It wiU be yet more when 1 hear it from yourself in a letter,
as I am sure you must, if it he hut out of common good-nature ; how much
more, then, out of kindness, if you love me as well as you make me believe,
and as I endeavour to deserve a Uttle by that sincere and lasting kindness I
have for you. But, by making excuses, I do but take up more of your time,
and therefore must teU you that this morning lord Marlborough went away.
As Uttle reason as I have to care for his wife, yet 1 must pity her condition,
having lain-in but eight days; and I have great compassion for wives, when
thefr husbands go to fight."
It Is remarkable, that the only person besides her husband
for whom, in her correspondence, queen Mary manUests a

312 MAEY II.
human sympathy, should be the woman whose pen was
most active in rituperating her. Lord Marlborough set
off for Ireland on an expedition to reduce Cork and Kinsale,
which, it is as weU to mention here, feU in the course of
six weeks, and were the first fruits of his genius in battle
and siege. The queen says of this undertaking, —
" I hope this business will succeed, I find if it do not, those who have
advised it wiU have an ill time, all, except lord Nottingham, being very much
against it ; lord president only complying because it was yom- order, but not
liking it, and wondering England should be left so exposed, thinking it too
great a hazard. There would be no end should I tell you all I hear upon this
subject, hut I thank God I am not afraid, nor do I doubt of the thing, since it is
by your order. I pray God the weather does not change with you as it does
here : it has rained aU the last night and this day, and looks as if it were set in
for it. Every thing frights me now, but were I once more so happy as to see
you here, I fancy I should fear nothing.
" I have always forgot to teU you, that in tho Utrecht Courant they have
printed a letter of yours to the states of Holland, in which you promise to be
soon with them. I can't tell you how many iU hours I have had about that, in
the midst of my joy when I thought you were coming home, for it troubled mo
to think you would go over and fight again there."
And what was worse, indulge at Loo In the society of her
rival, EUzabeth Villiers, the companion of his coarse relaxa
tions In Holland ; which consisted of schnaps, smoking, and
more vulgarity than could be ventured upon in the presence
of the English court and his stately queen, who, whatsoever
were her deficiencies in family benevolence, these letters
-will prove possessed a cultivated mind; yet, like her an
cestress the wife of the Conqueror, and MatUda Athel-
ing, she was often left to sway a lonely sceptre, whUe her
husband was absent prosecuting his continental wars, and
soothing the discontents of his transmarine subjects. The
Dutch, in fact, soon began to murmur at the pains and
penalties of absenteeism, which is, sooth to say, the curse
of pluralities, whether they be possessions temporal or
spiritual. The next paragraph In the queen's letter alludes to an
eccentric character, whom we suppose to be the elector
of Brandenburgh, From her description, his letter to her
must have been a real curiosity, and we regret in vain that
a copy was not enclosed to her spouse.

MAEY IL 313
" I must teU you, that Mr, Johnson writes that Mr. Danckleman has writ the
elector word that you received the news very coldly that he, the elector, was
come to the army, which they say vext him. I wish you had seen a letter I
had from him ; it was full of so many extraordinary things, but so Uke him. I
have had a present from him of an amber cabinet, for which I think it is not
necessary to write."
The amber cabinet seems to indicate that the queen's
eccentric correspondent was the sovereign of Prussia.'
"Now," concludes queen Mary, "my letter is so long, 'tis as if I were
bewitched to-night. I can't end for my life, but wiU force myself now, beseech
ing God to bless you, and keep you from aU dangers whatsoever, and to send us
a happy meeting again here upon earth ; and, at last, a joyful and blessed one
in heaven in his good time. FareweU ! Do but continue to love me, and forgive
the taking up so much of your time by your poor wife, who deserves more pity
than ever any creature did, and who loves you a great deal too much for her own
ease, though it can't be more than you deserve."
King WiUiam was defeated In an attempt to storm
Limerick, August 26, owing to the desperate resistance of
the governor, colonel Sarsfield. After learing 1200 regular
soldiers dead in the trenches, he raised the siege of Lime
rick, August 30, and embarked, September 5th, for England.
His brother-in-law, prince George of Denmark, was per
mitted to saU in the same ship with him, though not to
enter his coach. So prosperous was his voyage, that they
arrived in King's-road, near Bristol, September -^\, driven
by the equinoctial winds, before which the French ships
had prudently retfred from the dangerous British Channels,
when the king of Great Britain, finding the coast clear, got
safely to the other side of the water. The news of his land
ing drew from the queen the foUowing letter : —
" Queen Maet to KiNa William. " "WhitehaU, Sep. ',«, 1690.
" Lord Winchester is desirous to go meet you, which you may believe I wiU
never hinder any one. Wliethi r I ought to send him out of form sake I can't
tell ; but it may pass for what it ought to the world, and to your dear self, at
least, I suppose it is indifferent. Nothing can express the impatience I have to
see you, nor my joy to think it is so near. I have not sleept aU this night for
it, though I had but five hours rest the night before, for a reason I shall tell
you. I am now going to Kensington to put things in order there, and intend
to dine there to-morrow, and expect to hear when I shaU sett out to meet
you. ' He was made knight of the Garter about a month after, at the same time
with the duke of ZeU, another friend and ally of WilUam III., the father of
George l.'s unfortunate wife, Sophia Dorothea.

3l4 MARY' II.
"I had a compliment, last night, from the queen-dowager, [Catharine of
Braganza,] who came to town a-Friday, [on Friday]. She sent, I beUe-?e, with
a better heart, because Limmericke is not taken ; for my part, I don't think of
that, or any thing but you. God send you a good journey home, and make me
thankful as I ought for aU his mercies."
So closes this regnal correspondence: it concludes as it
began, with the expression of ill-wUl against the unfortu
nate Catharine of Braganza.
King WiUiam arrived at Kensington, September ^.
How affectionately he was received by his adoring consort,
may be supposed from her preceding love-letters. The
queen met her husband at Windsor, from whence they went
to Hampton-Court, where they settled for the remainder of
the autumn.
The queen is said to have resided, while the rebuUding of
the state-rooms of Hampton-Court proceeded, in a suite
of rooms called ' the Water GaUery,' the principal structure
in which, the banqueting-room, is now In eristence, and this
communicated with the royal apartments of the queens of
England by a subterranean way. The contemporary draw
ing, representing the original appearance of the banqueting.
room, shows that it was turreted and had a flag-staff, which
indicated, by the standard of England, when royalty abode
at Hampton-Court,' ' Hampton-Court Tracts, King's MSS., Brit. Museum.

MARY IL
QUEEN-EEGNANT OF GEEAT BEITAIN AND lEELAND.

CHAPTER VIIL
Great abilities of Mary II. — Birth and death of princess Anne's daughter —
King sails for the Hague — Queen again governs sohis — Condemns her father's
friends to death — Eemonstrances of lord Preston's child — Torture of Nevill
Payne — Danger of the king — His praises of the queen — Her concerns with
the church — Queen's danger at the confiagration of WhitehaU — Takes refuge
in St. .Tames's-park — Insulted by the Jacobites — Eetum of the king — Queen's
negotiation with Dr. TiUotson — King's departure — Queen appoints Dr. TiUot
son primate — Promotes Dr. Hooper — Rage of the king — Grief of the queen
— Her differences with her sister and George of Denmark — ^Anne demands
the Garter for Marlborough — Her letter to the king — Contemptuous refusal
of the queen — Anne and her favourites malcontent — They write to James II.
— Queen's persecution of William Penn, the quaker — Queen's letter to lady
Russell — Her conversation with Dr. Hooper — Return of the king — Queen
reproached by him — His cynical remark on her — Princess Anne's letter to her
father — Queen's open quarrel witb her sister — ^Letters of the royal sisters on
the dismissal of Marlborough — Pinal rupture and ejection of the Marlboroughs
from WhitehaU — Princess Anne departs with them — She borrows Sion-house
of the duchess of Somerset — Queen Mary's reception of her sister at her
drawing-room in Kensington-palace — Burnet's private opinions of the conduct
of the queen and the princess Anne — She is deprived of her guards by the
king and queen — Departure of the king.
The abilities of queen Mary, and the importance of her per
sonal exertions as a sovereign, have been as much under
rated, as the goodness of her heart and Christian excellences
have been over-estimated. She really reigned alone the
chief part of the six years that she was queen of Great
Britain. On her talents for government, and all her hus
band owed to her sagacity, inteUigence, and exclusive affec
tion to him, there is little need to dwell ; her own letters
fully develop the best part of her character and conduct.
William III., with the exception of the first year of his
election to the throne of the British empire, was seldom

316 MAEY II.
resident more than four months together in England, and
would scarcely have tarried that space of time, but for the
purpose of inducing the parliament to advance enormous
sums to support the war he carried on In Flanders, where
he commanded as generaUssimo of the confederated armies
of the German empire against France, as heretofore, but
"with this difference, that aU the wealth of the British king
doms was turned to supply the funds for those fields of
useless slaughter, the prospect of obtaining such sinews of
war baring been the main object of WiUiam's efforts to
dethrone his uncle.
It is worthy of remark, that Dr. Hooper, the friend
and chaplain of queen Mary, held her consort's abiUties In
as low estimation as he always did his character and reh
gious principles, whUe he pointed out the great talents
of the princess, and said, "that if her husband retained his
throne, it woiUd be by her skiU and talents for governing.
Few gave him credit for this assertion, but aU came round
to his idea when they had seen her at the helm for some
months." ' The king did not leave her so soon as she had
dreaded in the summer, but his stay in England was a
mere series of preparations for his spring campaign. Lord
Marlborough arrived before the close of the autumn from
Ireland, where he had met with brilUant success in reducing
Cork and Kinsale : he had an audience of thanks from the
king and queen at Kensington. Notwithstanding the flat
tering reception they gave him, he saw that they remem
bered "with secret displeasure his interference when parha^
ment settled the princess Anne's income. At St. James's-
palace, the princess gave bfrth to a daughter, who was
baptized Mary, after the queen, but the infant died in the
course of a few hours.
The king left the queen to embark for the Hague at a
very dangerous and unsettled time, just on the eve of the
explosion of a plot for the subversion of their government.
He took leave of her January ^\, 1690-1, and embarked
with admiral Rooke and a fleet of twelve ships of the Ime.
» Hooper MS., edited in Trevor's WiUiam III., vol. u.

MAEY IL 317
The queen was left to govern, by the assistance of the same
junta of nine, who were caUed by the discontented " the
nine kings." The departure of WUUam was celebrated by
some English Jacobite impertinences In rhyme, which were
said or sung by more persons than history records; and
these Unes note what history does not, the increasing cor
pulence of her majesty.
"Depaetuee oe KiNa William peom Queen Maet.'
" He at the Boyne his father beat.
And mauled the Irish Turk ;
The rebel he did make retreat.
With GinkeU and vrith Kfrke.
But now he is to Holland gone.
That country to defend.
And left the queen and us alone.
No states have such a friend.
The royal dame can fiU at once
Her husband's triple throne.
For she is thrice as big as he.
And bears three queens in one."
The minute traits pertaining to the queen's sayings and
doings, and personal peculiarities. Indicate that the authors
of these satires were literaUy about her path, and stationed
round her private apartments.
" Ye whigs and ye tories, repair to Whitehall,
And there ye shaU see majestical Mall ;
She fiUs op the throne in the absence of WiUy,
Never was monarch so chattering and silly.
She's governed in council by marquis Carmarthen,
And praises the virtues of lady Fitzharding ;
She eats Uke a horse, is as fat as a sow.
And she's led about by 'repubUc Jack Howe."'^
"RepubUc Jack Howe" was her majesty's rice-chamber
lain ; he was remarked for his great enmity to king WUliam.
The sneer at the queen's praises of the vfrtue of EUzabeth
ViUiers, lady Fitzharding, is remarkable in the foregoing
lines. Elizabeth VilUers is satfrized as " Betty the beauty,"^
an epithet Uttle consistent with Swift's opinion of her person.
' Lausdowne MS., British Museum. MS. Songs, coUected for Eobert Harley,
earl of Oxford.
' Ibid. LUiewise iu the MSS, of sfr Eobert Strange, with some undesfrable
variations. s Ibid.

318 MAEY IL
The very day after the king's departure, the important
trial of lord Preston and Mr. Ashton (a gentleman of the
household of the exUed queen Mary Beatrice) took place,
for conspiring the restoration of James II. Lord Preston
and Ashton were found guilty, on slender eridence, and
condemned to death. It is said, that the daughter of lord
Preston, lady Catharine Graham, a Uttle girl of but nine
years old, saved her father's life by a sudden appeal to
the feelings of queen Mary. The poor chUd was, during
the trial of her father, left in the queen's apartments at
Windsor-castle, where he lately had an estabUshment as
James II.'s lord chamberlain, which probably, in the rio
lent confusion of events, had not been legally taken from
his domestics and famUy. The day after the condemnation
of lord Preston, the queen found the Uttle lady Catharine
in St, George's gaUery, gazing earnestly on the whole-length
picture of James IL, which stUl remains there. Struck with
the mournful expression of the young gfrl's face, Mary asked
her hastily, "What she saw in that picture, which made
her look on it so particularly?" — " I was thinking," said
the Innocent chUd, " how hard it is that my father must
die for loring yours." The story goes, that the queen,
pricked in conscience by this artless reply. Immediately
signed the pardon of lord Preston, and gave the father
back to the child,'
It is an ungracious task to dispel the Uluslons that are
pleasant to aU generous minds. Glad should we be to
record as a truth that the pardon of lord Preston sprang
from the melting heart of queen Mary; but, alas 1 the real
cfrcumstances of the case wiU not suffer the idea to be che-f
rished for a moment. Lord Preston was only spared in
order to betray by his eridence the deep-laid ramifications
of the plot, which compromised many of the nobiUty and
clergy; above aU, lord Preston's confessions were made use
of to conrict his high-spfrited coadjutor, young Ashton, to
' Dafrymple's History of the Eevolution of Great Britain, &c. There are
several minutiaj the author has suppUed from traditions, preserved among her
northern relatives.

MAEY IL 819
whose case the appeal of little lady Catharine' applied as
much as it did to her father. Queen Mary, however, signed
the death-warrant .of Ashton without any relenting, and he
was executed. He died with great com'age, and prayed for
king James with his last breath.
Lord Preston's revelations implicated the queen's uncle,
lord Clarendon, who continued under very severe incar
ceration in the Tower during her regency. The extensive
conspiracy was connected -with the formidable coalition in
Scotland, which the queen had partlaUy detected in the
summer, when It wUl be remembered that NeviU Payne,
the Jacobite tutor to the young earl of Mar, had been
arrested by her orders during the absence of king WUUam
in Ireland. Her majesty had -written, before the return of
the king, it seems, several autograph letters to the privy
councU of Scotland, in which she had made some ominous
Inqufries as to what had become of Mr. NevUl Payne.'
These inquiries were, to be sure, blended with many pious
expressions, and as many recommendations " to praise God,"
which hints in state-documents, unfortunately, are too fre
quently foUowed by some unusual perpetration of cruelty to
his creatures. The result was, the foUowing infliction on
her father's faithful and courageous servant. As it Is diffi
cult to abstain from Indignant language in such a case, we
will only use that addressed to the principal minister of her
majesty for Scotland, who was then at court, expediting the
business relating to this affair with the queen : —
"TO LoED Melville.'
" Yesterday, in the aftei-noon, NeviU Paine was questioned upon some things
that were not of the greatest concern, and had but gentle torture given him,
' Lady Catharine Graham afterwards married the representative of the heroic
Hue of "ft'iddrington, whose fortunes fell in the subsequent northern struggles
for the restoration of the house of Stuart, never to rise again.
== MelviUe Papers, pp. 582-585.
' Letter from the earl of Crafurd, at Edinburgh, to lord MelviUe, at Mary's
court in London. NevUl Payne soon afterwards died of the effects of these
cruelties. Great difficulty was experienced by the author of this Life in discover-
mg the situation in lite of Mr. NeviU Payne; at last, from Cunningham the his
torian's abuse of him as the preceptor to the young earl of Mar, it appears that
he was a clergyman of the Scoteh episcopaUan church. Cunningham liimself
was preceptor to the duke of Argyle, lord Mar's opponent at Sheriffinufr.

320 MAEY II.
being resolved to repeat it this day ; which, accordingly, about six this evemng,
we infficted on both his thumbs and one of his legs with all the severity that
was consistent with humanity, [such humanity !] even to that pitch that we
could not preserve life and have gone farther ; but without the least success,
for his answers to all our interrogatories were negatives. Yea, he was so manly
and resolute under his suffering, that such of the councU as were not acquainted
with aU the evidences were bungled, [staggered,] and began to give him charity
that he might be innocent. It was surprising to me and others that flesh and
blood could, without fainting, endure the heavy penance he was in for two
hours." It Is some satisfaction to perceive that the narrator of this
atrocious scene was ashamed and conscience-stricken, and
even sick, at the part he had played as chief-inquisitor in
this hideous business, for he adds, —
" My stomach is, truly, so out of tune, by being a witness to an act so far
cross to my natural temper, that I am fitter for rest than any thing else ; but the
dangers from such conspirators to the person of our incomparable king have
prevailed over me, in the council's name, to hame been the prompter of the
executioner to increase the torture to so high a piteh."
While these appaUIng scenes were proceeding in London
and Edinburgh, the life of the consort of the queen had
been exposed to imminent danger from the elements. King
WUUam had made the coast of HoUand two days after his
departure, but found that the fleet in which he sailed dared
approach no nearer to the coast at Goree than four miles, for
a dense frost-fog was settled over the shore, and "vrrapped
every object in its impenetrable shroud. The king was
extremely anxious to arrive at the Hague, where their high
mightinesses the States-deputies were waiting for him to
open thefr sessions, and they had in the previous year ex
pressed great jealousy of bis long absence in bis new sove
reignty. Notwithstanding the fog, some fishermen ventured
on board the king's ship, and reported that Goree was not a
mUe and a half distant; the king, therefore, resolved to be
rowed on shore in his barge, into which he went -with the
duke of Ormonde, and some of the English nobiUty of his
suite. In a few minutes the royal barge was totally lost In
the fog, and could neither find the shore nor regain the fleet.
Night fell, and the waves became rough vrith a ground-sweU.
The king laid down in the bottom of the open boat, only
sheltered by his cloak ; the waves washed over him several
times, and the danger seemed great. Some one near the

MAEY II. 321
king expressed his despafr at their situation, " What ! are
you afraid to die with me?" asked his majesty, sternly.'
At day-break the shore was discovered, and the king landed
safely at Aranick Haak, and from thence went to the Hague,
where he was received triumphantly, with illuminations and
all possible rejoicings. It was his first state entrance Into
his old dominions as king of Great Britain, which the Dutch
firmly believed was as much his conquest as it had been that
of Norman William in the eleventh century. In all the
pageantry at the Hague he was greeted with the cognomen
of WiUiam "the Conqueror," to the shame and confusion of
face of the duke of Ormonde, and many English nobles he
brought in his train. The earl of Nottingham, the friend
and confidential adriser of queen Mary, who was present at
this entry, made some compUmentary remark on the accla
mations of the Dutch. WUUam replied, "Ah, my lord ! if
my queen were but here, you would see a difference. Where
they now give one shout for me, they would give ten for
her,'" Perhaps his recent danger had caused his heart to
be unusually tender in its conjugal reminiscences.
It wIU be allowed that queen Mary must have possessed
considerable personal and mental courage, when it Is remem
bered that she was left alone at the helm of government
during the awful events which marked the spring of 1690-1,
when the execution of the devoted Ashton, and others of
her father's friends, took place; Uke-wise the Incarceration
of her eldest uncle. Far more dangerous was the step she
had to take in dispossessing the apostolic archbishop of
Canterbury, and other disinterested clergy of the church of
England, who refused to take the oaths of allegiance to
herself and her spouse. Nor could the queen have suc
ceeded in this bold undertaking had she not been supported
by a standing army, and if that army had not been blended
with a numerous portion of foreigners : it was likewise under
the unwonted terrors of the lash. Infinitely was the church
of England beloved by the commonalty, and great reason
' Barnard's History of England, p. 525.
' Echard's History of the Eevolution.
VOL. VII. Y

322 MAEY II.
had the people for manifesting towards its clergy the most
ardent gratitude.
Those who are observers of historical facts, wUl readily
concur in the remark, that all the changes in our national
modes of worship have been effected by queens. Without
dwelling on the tradition that the empress Helena, a British
lady, planted the gospel in England, It may be remembered
that Ethelburga, the -wife of Ed-win king of Northumbria,
and her mother, revived the Christian religion by the agency
of Paulinus ; that Anne Boleyn caused Henry VIIL to opeiji
his eyes to the Reformation; that Katharine Parr's influ
ence preserved the present endo-wments of our church ; that
Mary I. restored the Roman hierarchy to a feeble but cruel
exercise of power, which was triumphantly -wrested from that
still formidable body by the able poUcy of queen Elizabeth.
We have here to record innovations of a scarcely less im
portant nature, which were effected by queen Mary II. in
the established church of England. Eridence of the changes
in queen Mary's own mind and conduct, from the days of
her youth, when Hooper and Ken were her pastors, has been
carefully and painfully coUected and laid before our readers,
who wIU, without difficulty, analyze the reasons why deca
dence and sorrow paralysed the church of England for
nearly a century after the sway of this highly praised
woman. When archbishop Sancroft suffered imprisonment
for baring resisted the rapid advances of James II. to place
the Roman church on an equality -with the church of Eng
land, aU disinterested observers of history -wiU aUow that
our established religion had attained a degree of perfection
not often beheld on this earth; nor were the exceUencea
of her clergy at that period confined to their mere learning
and Uterary merit, although Hall, Hooker, George Herbert,
Taylor, Barrow, Sanderson, and Ken, rise to memory as
among the classics of their century. Recently tried by
the persecutions of Cromwell, and stUl further purified in
1672 by the abrogation of the worst part of the penal laws,
the church of England was thus prepared to offer, in the
reign of Mary IL, that great example of self-denial for

MAEY IL 323
conscience' sake, which ought never to be forgotten by
history. Mary temporized for upwards of a year, in the astute
expectation that the possession of the power, dignity, and
splendid revenues of the see of Canterbury, and, above all,
that the aversion which old age ever has to change of life
and usages, would at last altogether shake the principles of
archbishop Sancroft into some compromise with expediency.
As she found that this was vain, she declared his deprivation,
and warned him to quit Lambeth, February 1, 1690-1. Six
other learned and disinterested prelates of the church of
England,' -vrith several hundred divines, were deprived by
queen Mary on the same day.' Sancroft took no notice of
this act, but continued to live at the palace, exercising the
same charity and hospitality as before. Bishop Ken remon
strated, and read a protestation in the market-place of
WeUs, pointing out the Illegality of the queen's proceedings.
Finding this was unavailing. Ken, who carried not away a
sixpence from his bishopric, retfred to the charity of his
nephew, the rev, Isaac Walton, who gave him refuge in his
prebendal house In SaUsbury-close. No successor had as yet
been appointed to the see of Canterbury, Dean TiUotson
was supposed to be the future archbishop. It was given out
that the queen (regarding whose attachment to the church
of England a political cry was raised) had the sole manage
ment of ecclesiastical affairs, and that the choice of aU the
dignitaries was her own unbiassed act. Archbishop Sancroft
observed, "that he had committed no crime against church
or state which could authorize his degradation, and that if
the queen wished for his place at Lambeth, she must send
and thrust him out of it by personal riolence," He, how
ever, packed up his beloved books, and waited for that hour.
Thousands of swords would have been flashing In the defence
¦ Lloyd, bishop of Norwich, and Lake, bishop of Chichester, suppUed the
places of Lloyd of St, Asaph, and Trelawney of Bristol, and thus the number of
the " sacred seven," who had equaUy resisted the corruptions of Rome and the
innovations of dissent, was completed.
2 D'Oyley's Life of Sancroft. Some say seven, hundred clergy, others four
hund)-ed. Further information on this important point is afforded by Palin's
History of the Church of England, froml688 to I7l7,
Y 2

324 MAEY IL
of the venerable primate if he would have endured the appeal
to arms, but passive resistance he deemed the only, the proper
demeanour for a Christian prelate of the reformed church.
The people of the present age have forgotten the sneers that
prevaUed against these principles throughout a great part of
the last century, and therefore are better able to appreciate
conduct, assuredly more worthy of primitive Christianity
than the mammon-worshipping seventeenth century would
aUow. A dead pause ensued. Queen Mary was perplexed
as to the person whom she could appoint to fill the archi
episcopal seat of Canterbury. Her tutor, Compton bishop of
London, had the ambition to desire this high appointment;
but his extreme Ignorance, his military education, and the
perpetual blunders he made in his functions, would not per
mit such advancement.'
The queen was, at this important juncture, earnestly soU
cited In behalf of her eldest uncle, Henry lord Clarendon,
by his friend Katharine, the dowager lady Ranelagh, and by
his brother, her uncle Lawrence, earl of Rochester, parti
cularly, for some relaxation in the severity of his durance ia
the Tower. The reader wUl recaU the queen's own extra
ordinary narrative of her committal of her eldest uncle to
that fortress In the commencement of her last regency.
Attainder and trial for high treason were now hanging over
the head of Clarendon, whose health, moreover, was sinking
under the depression of solitary confinement. Meantime,
lady Ranelagh had previously negotiated the armistice be
tween the queen and her uncle Rochester, through the agency
of Burnet. The executor of Burnet' claims much credit for
the generosity of that person, as the queen's uncles always
dIsUked him ; yet there was a mixture of policy In the in
terference, as, to use Burnet's own phraseology, " 'twasn't
decent " for the people to see one of the queen's uncles in
durance in the Tower, and another In estrangement and Im
poverishment, because they beheld the exaltation of their
^ ' With the idea of making his court, however, to the king for this purpose,
bishop Compton had left his see, and accompanied him in his voyage to HoUand.
^ Life of Burnet, p. 272.

MAEY II. 325
sister's daughter with horror. Had they been brothers of
the queen's step-mother, such conduct might have been ex
pected ; but that the brothers of her mother should afford
such examples, left on her cause a glaring reproach, which
could not too soon be removed.
In one of lady Ranelagh's' remonstrances on the subject
of the enmity between queen Mary and her uncles, she thus
speaks of the queen : " This same royal person would not, I
think, act unbecoming herself, or the eminent station God
has placed her in. In assisting five innocent children, who
have the honour to be related to her royal' mother, (who
did still, with great tenderness, consider her own famUy
when she was most raised above it,) especiaUy when. In
assisting them, her majesty vrill need only to concern herself
to preserve a property made thefrs by the law of England,
which, as queen of this kingdom, she is obliged to main
tain." It is probable that the aUusion here made. Is to some
grant or pension formerly given by the Stuart sovereigns
in aid of the maintenance of the ennobled family of Hyde,
the titles of which, howsoever weU deserved they might be,
were not supported on the broad basis of hereditary estates,
— a cfrcumstance which places the conscientious opposition of
Henry earl of Clarendon to his royal niece In a more decided
light, and accounts, at the same time, for the compUance of
her uncle Lawrence, earl of Rochester, after long reluctance.
" I know not," says the queen's younger uncle, Lawrence,
" whether the queen can do me any good in this affair, but I
believe her majesty cannot but ¦wish she could; however, I
think I should have been very wanting to my children If I
had not laid this case most humbly before her majesty, lest
at one time she herself might say I might have been too
negUgent in making applications to her, which, baring now
done, I leave the rest, with aU possible submission, to her
' Katharine lady Eanelagh was the dowager lady of that name, the daughter
of Eichard, first earl of Cork; she was nearly connected with the queen's
maternal relatives.
' Anne Hyde, duchess of York, called " royal" by lady Eanelagh, because she
was by marriage a member of the royal faraUy,

326 MAEY II.
own judgment, and to the reflection that some good-natured
moments may incline her towards my famUy."
During the earl of Clarendon's hard conflnement, his more
complying brother thus writes of him : " Such a petition
might be presented with a better grace [to the queen] if he
were once out of the Tower on baU, than it would be while he
is under this close confinement." ' Again the brother strives
to awaken some compassion in the heart of the queen, by
pathetic reminiscences of thefr illustrious father, the grand-
sire on whose knees Mary had been reared at Twickenham,
He writes to Bumet, —
" I wiU aUow you, as a servant of the queen, to have as great a detestation of
the contrivance,'' as you can wish. But when I consider you, as you once were
a concerned fi-iend, to have a respect for his family, and particularly for our
father, [the great earl of Clarendon,] who not only lost all the honours and pre
ferments of this world, but even the comforts of it too, for the integrity and
uprightness of his heart, you must forgive me if I conjure you, by all that is
sacred, that you do not suffer this next hefr to my good father's name to go
down -with sorrow to the grave. I cannot but think that the queen would do
(and would be glad to avow it too,) some great thing for the memory of that
gentleman, though long in his grave."
The queen's grandfather, lord Clarendon, is designated by
the expression "that gentleman;" yet aU the bearings of
her conduct prove that Mary had as little tenderness for her
maternal relatives as for her father, for in all her corres
pondence extant, the words "my mother" are not to be
found traced by her pen. Yet this biography brings in
stances in which that parent's memory, and even that of
her grandfather, were pressed on the queen's recoUection.
" I hope," continues her uncle Lawrence, stUl pleading
against the attainder of his eldest brother by the govern
ment of his niece, —
" I hope there may be a charitable incUnation to spare the dibris of our
broken famUy, for the sake of him that was the raiser of it. A calamity of the
nature that I now deprecate has something in it so frightful, and on some ac
counts so wrmatural, that I beg you [Burnet] for God's sake, from an angry
man, to grow an advocate for me and for the famUy on this account." =
The last of these letters is dated New Park, AprU 2, 1691,
» Bumet's Ltfe, p. 286.
' The Ashton and Preston plot, for participation in which the queen's eldest
uncle was then imprisoned. » Bumet's Life, p. 286.

MAEY IL 827
It is doubtful whether the unfortunate lord Clarendon was
liberated from the Tower untU after the death of his old
friend, admiral lord Dartmouth, committed to the Tpwer by
queen Mary the day after the date of the above letter.
Dartmouth died of grief and regret, after a few months'
durance; and when the queen at last Uberated her eldest
uncle, he was to hold himself a prisoner within the Umits of
his country-house.
Queen Mary cherished a strong desfre to add the noble
French colony of Canada to her transatlantic dominions. In
the preceding winter of 1691, Quebec was summoned to sur
render to king William and queen Mary. The governor of
Quebec, Frontinac, replied, "that he knew neither king WU
liam nor queen Mary; but, whosoever they might be, he
should hold out the garrison given In charge from his master^
Loids XIV., against them.'" Under the queen's regency^
a detachment of British troops was despatched to In-vade the
colony, but the expedition was unsuccessful. Canada con
tinued In the poWer of the original colonists for more than
half a centuryi
King WUliam returried to England to procure supplies
of money and troops, AprU ^, 1691; The night of his
arrival, a tremendous fire had reduced the principal part of
WhitehaU to ashes, which presented only heaps of smoking
ruins as he came up the river on the foUovring morning.
The conflagration commenced in the Portsmouth apart
ments, which had been the original cause of the enmity
between the queen and her sister Anne. It was occa
sioned by linen igniting in the laundry. The Jacobite
¦writers accuse king WiUiam of setting fire to WhitehaU,
because he could not bear to Inhabit the former palaces
of his uncles, and in the hope of excluding the public,
who claimed, by prescription too ancient to be then con
troverted, the right of free entrance while their sovereigns
sat in state at meat, or took thefr diversions. The demoli
tion of Hampton- Court, the desolation of Green^wlch-palace,
and the desertion of Whitehall for Kensington, were quoted
» Dangeau, Vol. U, p, 369.

328 MAEY n.
by the malcontents. The conflagration of WhitehaU cer-"
tainly originated by accident, for queen Mary, who was
a very hea-vy sleeper, nearly lost her life in the flames.
The Portsmouth suite being contiguous to the queen's side,.
or pri-vy-lodgings, the flames had communicated to the
latter before the queen could be awakened, and she was
dragged, half asleep, in her night-dress into St, James's-
park, Here new adventures befell her, for colonel Ogle
thorpe and sfr John Fenwick, two gentlemen devoted to
her father, leaders of the Jacobite party, seeing her con
sternation, foUowed her through the park to St, James's,
reriUng her by the lurid Ught of the flames of Whitehall,
and telling her "that her filial sins would come home
to her." — " She was notoriously insulted by them,"' re
peats another manuscript authority. "The long gaUery
was then burnt, most of the royal apartments, -vrith those
of the king's officers and servants." Edmund Calamy is
the only printed annaUst of the times who alludes to the
reproaches made to the queen. This author is too timid
to enter into detail. However, those who compare his hints
-vrith our quotations, -wIU see that these curious facts are
confirmed by that respectable and honest nonconformist.
Without particularizing where the offence was committed,
Calamy confirms our MS. eridence in these words, speaking
of sfr John Fen-vrick : " He had taken several opportunities
of afironting queen Mary in places of pubUc resort,"'
Many invaluable portraits and treasures of antiquity be
longing to the ancient regaUty of England were consumed
with WhitehaU-palace. Some nameless poet of that day
commemorated the event in these lines : —
" See the imperial palace's remains.
Where nothing now but desolation reigns ;
Fatal presage of monarchy's decline.
And extirpation of the regal line." '
Since the pecuniary assistance which Dr. TiUotson had
' Birch MS. 4466, British Museum. Diary of Mr. Sampson, p. 43. Another
contemporary manuscript repeats the same cfrcumstances of the danger and
distress of the queen, of which, no doubt, more detaUed particulars exist in
private letters, in the unpublished archives of different noble houses.
'^ Life of Calamy, vol. i. p. 888. » " Faction J)isplayedi" state poem.

MAEY IL 329
rendered on the memorable experiment in popularity at
Canterbury, king WiUiam had marked him for the highest
advancement in the church of England, His majesty con
sidered that Dr, TiUotson was perfectly wUlIng to receive
this appointment ; nevertheless, some obstacle, stronger than
the conventional refusal of episcopal promotion, seemed
to deter him. Dr. TiUotson told the king, at last, "that
he was married ; that there had preriously been but one or
two married archbishops, and never an archbishop's widow;
and as he had no provision wherewith to endow his wife, he
considered, in case of her widowhood, it would be an un
seemly sight if she left Lambeth to beg alms," ' The king
replied, "If that was his objection, the queen would settle
^U to his satisfaction, and that of Mrs. TUlotson." Accord
ingly, after a long interriew with queen Mary, Dr. TiUot
son declared " he was ready to take the place of archbishop
Sancroft, as soon as her majesty found it vacant." That
matter, however, promised to be fuU of difficulty, for San
croft persisted In bis assertion, " that if the queen wanted
Lambeth, she must thrust him out of it." King WiUiam
left her majesty solus to encounter aU the embarrassments of
the archbishop's deprivation and of the new appointment,
as he saUed for Flanders, May 11th, 1691. The queen no
minated Dr, TUlotson to the primacy. May 31st, 1691,
She sent a mandate, signed by her own hand, warning
Sancroft to quit Lambeth in ten days. This he did not
obey. The emissaries of the queen finaUy expelled him
from his palace, Jime 23rd; he took a boat at the stafrs
the same evening, and crossed the Thames to the Temple,
where he remained in a private house tiU August, when he
retired to end his days In his vUlage In Suffolk.'
There was but one pen In the world capable of calumniat
ing Sancroft : that pen belonged to Bumet. He has accused
the apostoUc man of baring amply prorided for himself from
the revenues of Canterbury; but long before Burnet's books
were printed, the cfrcumstances In which Sancroft lived and
died were well* known to the world. In truth, the deprived
' Dr. Bfrch's Life of TiUotson. ° Biographia Britannica.

330 MAEY II.
archbishop went forth from Lambeth, taking no property
but his staff and books : he had distributed aU his revenues
in charity, and would have been destitute if he had not
inherited a little estate in Suffolk. To an ancient but lowly
residence, the place of his birth, at Fressingfield, where his
ancestors had dwelt respectably, from father to son, for
three centuries, archbishop Sancroft retfred to live on his
private patrimony of fifty pounds per annum. On this
modicum he subsisted for the remainder of his days, leading
a holy and contented Ufe, venerated by his contemporaries,
but almost adored by the simple country-folk of Suffolk for
his personal merits. The use to which Sancroft put his
sarings has been revealed by a biography strictly founded
on documents, the modest voice of which has, in our times,
put to open shame his slanderer. From it we leam, that
Sancroft began to devote his sarings, when he was only dean
of St. Paul's, to amplifying some of those miserable brings
which too frequently faU to the lot of the best of the EngUsh
clergy. The ricarage of Sandon, In Hertfordshire, was thus
endowed. Seven brings were augmented by this practical
Christian before queen Mary hurled him from his arch
bishopric: he likewise -wrote earnest letters to his rich
clergy, recommending them to " aid thefr poor brethren's
Uvings." One glorious Ught of our church, Isaac Barrow,
foUowed the example of his friend. Our church has reason
to bless Sancroft daily, for his self-denial and charitable
exertions set the example to the great 'Bounty of queen
Anne.' '
When Dr. TiUotson vacated the deanery of Canterbury
to become primate, WiUiam sent the queen, from HoUand,
three names, as those from whom he chose the deanery ta
¦ Burnet mmst have known these facts. In his printed history he accuses
him in one page of enriching himself, and on the page opposite he is contemned
for poverty. Any reader who wishes to see documentary proofs of Sancroft's good
works and of Burnet's slander, may turn to Dr. D'Oyley's Life of Sancroft.
The attack on Sancroft for enriching himself does not occur in Burnet's manu
script ; there he only reviles and despises him for his miserable poverty. It is
possible that the contradictory statement was introduced by Mackey " the spy,'
his executor. Collate with Harleian MSS. Burnet's Own Times, voL i. pp. from
148 to 181.

MAEY II. 331
oe suppUed, — ^thus usurping the ancient ftmctions of the
chapters of old ; ' a fact in utter contradiction to the asser
tion that he permitted his queen to exercise entirely the func
tion of head of the church of England. Mary did venture to
exercise the limited choice he aUowed, so far as to appoint
Dr. Hooper dean of Canterbury. The king supposed that
his enmity to her former almoner was sufficiently kno-wn to
his submissive partner ; for it became erident, that although
he had put Hooper's name on the list, it was only to give
that divine the mortification of being rejected by her.
WiUiam's rage was extreme when he found that he was
thus taken at his word. One of the queen's ladles, who
had married in HoUand, (¦vrithout doubt, the countess Zule
stein,) wrote to Mrs. Hooper, "that their royal mistress
would be bitterly chid on her husband's return." Indeed
this, the worthiest appointment made in her reign, cost Mary
many tears : " that was too often her case in England,"
continues our authority, " but in Holland it was daUy so."
When the queen obtained the Uberty, as she supposed,
for this appointment, she sent for Dr. Hooper, by lord
Nottingham, to WhitehaU, and forth'wlth nominated him
to the deanery. He was greatly surprised, and begged to
know which of his Uvings, Lambeth or Woodhey, she would
be pleased he should resign. " Neither," repUed the queen.
But the conscientious Hooper refused to retain pluraUtles,'
and he laid down Woodhey, worth 300Z. per annum, before
he quitted the royal presence. Queen Mary was glad to
give it to another of her chaplains. Dr. Hearn. The queen
' The conduct of king WUUam, in this action, presents a most extraordinary
antithesis to the ancient fimctions of the church on the appointment of digni
taries. The heads of chapters, after sitting in convocation hi thefr chapter
houses, presented three names to the king, praying him " to name from these
chm-chmen (either of whom the church considered worthy of the office) the one
most agreeable to his grace." The monarch did so, and forthwith received
homage for the temporaUties. It was not considered courteous of the chapter or
chapters to give the monarch less choice than three. Sometimes there were
six; the larger the number, the more subversive was the custom of faction
deemed. — Brakelonde's Chronicle of St. Edmund's Bury : Camden Society.
* Dr. Hooper was a married man with a family ; his example was therefore
the more admirable. It must be remembered, that his daughter was the editress
of this journal.

332 MAEY II.
requfred of her old servant to inform her plainly, " why it
was that TUlotson was looked upon as a Soclnian?" Dr.
.Hooper attributed the report to the great intimacy between
him and Dr. Ffrmin,' who was often seen at his table at
Lambeth. This firiendship had begun in thefr youth, and
was stIU continued.'
The calamity of fire seemed to pursue king WilUam and
his royal consort. The queen had scarcely welcomed the
king on his return to thefr newly-finished palace of Ken
sington, when an awful fire broke ou.t there, about seven In
the morning, November 10, 1691 ; it wrapped in flames the
stone gallery and the adjacent apartments. When the roar
of the fire became audible, WiUiam, beUe-ving a treacherous
attack on his palace was In progress, called loudly for his
sword,' but soon found that the foe was better queUed by a
bucket of water. The queen Uke-wise apprehended treason.
At last, being convinced the fire was accidental, she descended
with the king, as soon as they were dressed. Into the garden,
when they stood for some hours watching their foot-guards
pass buckets of water, untU by thefr actirity the confla
gration was subdued,*
The differences which subsisted between the royal sisters,
Mary and Anne, in the -winter of 1691, became more pub
licly apparent, o-wing to some awkward diplomacy that the
king had set his consort to transact relative to prince George
of Denmark. On his majesty's departure from England in
the preceding May, the prince had asked permission " to serve
him as a volunteer at sea;" the king gave his brother-in-
law the embrace enjoined by courtly etiquette, but answered
him not a word. George of Denmark took sUence for con
sent, prepared his sea-equipage, and sent aU on board the
ship in which he intended to sail; but king WiUiam had
left positive orders -with queen Mary, " that she was not to
' He was the leader of the Socinians in London. We quote the dialogue, not
because we have a wish to discuss controversial points, but because queen Mary
was one of the speakers.
2 Manuscript account of Dr. Hooper. Trevor's WiUiam III., vol. n. p. 472.
- ' Thidal's Con. of Eapin, p. 76, from which the above incidents have been
drawn. ? Defoe's Tour through Great Britain, vol. i. p. 12.

MAEY II. 33^
Suffer prince George to sail with the fleet ; yet she was not
openly to forbid him to go." Thus the queen had the very
difficult diplomatic task enjoined her by her spouse to im
pede the Intentions of her brother-in-law, making it appear,
at the same time, as If he staid by his own choice.
The queen, according to lady Marlborough's account,'
observed her husband's dfrections exactly : she sent " a very
great lord" to that lady, to desire that she would persuade
the princess Anne to hinder prince George from his sea-
expedition. The queen expected her (lady Marlborough) to
accomplish it without letting her mistress know the reason.
Lady Marlborough replied, " that it was natural for the
princess to wish that her husband should stay at home, out
of danger, yet there was doubt whether she would prevail
on him to give up his expedition; but that as to herself,
she could not undertake to say any thing to the princess,
and conceal her reasons for speaking ; yet, if she were per
mitted to use her majesty's name, she would say whatever
was desired by her."' But this did not accord -vrith her
majesty's riews.
The queen had now entered into a league vrith La^wrence
Hyde, earl of Rochester, her younger uncle, who had been
prevaUed upon, to the indignation of her captive, his elder
brother Clarendon, to take the oaths to her government,'
and become one of her ministers. The earl of Rochester,
who had been the particular object of the rerilings of the
princess Anne and her favourite, was at this time sent by
queen Mary to explain her pleasure, "that prince George
of Denmark was to reUnquish his intention of going to sea,
which meas'ore was to appear to be his o^wn choice." Prince
George replied to this rather unreasonable Intimation, " That
there had been much talk In London respecting his inten
tion; and as his preparations were very weU known, If he
sent for his sea-equipage from on board ship, as the queen
desfred, -vrithout giring any reason for such caprice, that he
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 40.
^ Diary of Lord Clarendon.
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 40.

334 MAEY ir.
should make a very ridiculous figure in the eyes of every
one." His representation was undoubtedly true; and it
was as true that the king and queen would not have had
any objection to his incurring contempt by his obedience,
in the eyes of the English people. The queen, finding that
the prince of Denmark would not submit to the intervention
of her -will and pleasure in private, was obliged to send her
lord chamberlain, Nottingham, in form, positively to forbid
his embarkation.' "The queen and princess Uved, in ap
pearance," continues lady Marlborough, " as if nothing had
happened, aU that summer. Yet lord Portland, it was weU
kno-wn, had ever a great prejudice to my lord Marlborough;
and EUzabeth ViUiers, although I had never done her any
injury, excepting not making my court to her, was my im
placable enemy."'
The princess Anne, instigated by the restless ambition of
her favourite, had thought fit to demand the order of the
Garter, as a reward due to the mUItary merit of lord Marl
borough in Ireland. The request had been made by letter
to her brother-in-law : —
"THE Peincess Anne to KiNa William.'
" Sie, " Tunbridge, Aug. 2, [1691].
" I hope you wiU pardon me for giving you this trouble, but I cannot help
seconding the request the prince [George of Denmark] has now made you ta
remember your promise of a Garter for lord Marlborough. You cannot bestow
it upon any one that has been more serviceable to you in the late revolution, nor
that has ventured their lives for you as he has done since your coming to the
crown ; but if people wiU not think these merits enough, I cannot beUeve any
body wUl be so unreasonable as to be dissatisfied, when it is known you are
pleased to give it him on the prince's account and mine. I am sure I shaU ever
look upon it as a mark of your favour to us. I wiU not trouble you with any
ceremony, because I know you do not care for it. " Anne."
The queen refused this demand. It has been stated that
there was something of contempt in her manner of so
doing, which exasperated the favourites of her sister Into
a degree of rage that led them to conspfre the downfaU of
her husband and herself from the sovereignty. Lord Marl
borough, in the same year, wrote to his former master,
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 41. » Ibid.
' Dafrymple's Appendix.

MAEY II. 835
James IL, declaring "that he could neither sleep nor eat
in peace, for the remembrance of his crimes against him,"
He made unbounded offers of his serrices, and finished by
assuring him, " that he would bring the princess Anne back
to her duty, if he received the least word of encouragement." '
Marlborough was then one of the council of nine assisting
in the government. The perils of the queen's position
were therefore great. James IL, however, did not give
much encouragement to this treason, and drUy answered
to Marlborough "that his good intentions must be proved
by deeds rather than words."
Meantime, the queen's regency was agitated by plots,
which were ramifications of that of lord Preston. She
signed warrants for the arrest of the deprived bishop of
Ely and lord Dartmouth; she Ukewise molested the de
prived primate, by sending a commission to his cottage
in Suffolk to inqufre into his proceedings. One of her
messengers could scarcely refrain from tears, when he found
that the venerable archbishop himself came to the door to
answer his knock, because his only attendant, an old woman
who took care of his cottage, happened to be IU. The
queen's enmity -was exceedingly great to WiUiam Penn,
whose name was involved in these machinations; an entfre
stop was put to his philanthropic exertions in the colony
of Pennsylvania, and the good quaker was forced to hide
his head and skulk about London, as he did In the perse
cution of his sect before the accession of James II. He
wished to have an interriew ¦vrith the queen. " He could,"
he said, "conrince her of his fidelity to the government,
to which he vrished well, because the predominance of
her father's reUgion must be ultimate destruction to his
own. The personal friendship was warm which he bore
' to James Stuart ; ' but he loved him as such, and not
as king. He was his benefactor," he said; "he loved
him in his prosperity, and he never could speak against
' Macpherson's Stuart Papers, vol. i. Dalrymple's Appendix. Memoirs of
James IL, vol. U. Coxe, in his Life of Marlborough, cannot deny this fact, but
excuses it oa the plea " that he desfred only to deceive king James ! "

336 MAEY n.
him in his adversity,"' But let him say what he would,
WUliam Penn was a persecuted man as long as queen
Mary lived.
Queen Mary's government, in the summer of 1691, had
been accompanied by a series of cfrcumstances calamitous
enough to daunt the courage of a more experienced ruler.
Disastrous and bloody battles had been fought in Flanders,
and great slaughter of the English troops ensued, -vrithout
the satisfaction of rictory. Com was at a famine price;
the country gentry and merchants were sinking under a'
weight of taxation, such as never had been heard or thought
of in the British islands. The fieet had returned covered
with disgrace; English seamen were overcome, merely by
the horrible prorisions and worthless ammunition which
the corrupt ministry had prorided for thefr use. AU these
tremendous difficulties had the queen to surmount, but
her correspondence Is not available for the history of this
summer. It is kno-wn that she sojourned in her palace
¦vrithout a friend, — nay, -vrithout an object of affection.
She had no affections except for her husband, and he was
absent, exposed to a thousand dangers. She had no female
friend among her numerous ladies, for in her voluminous
correspondence which has been opened to the reader, where
she has entered into the feelings of her own heart vrith
minute and skilful anatomy, she has never mentioned one
person as a friend. Indeed, her panegyrist, Burnet, In his
curious manuscript narrative, observes. In the enumeration
of her other "valuable qualities," that the queen never
had a female friend. Her majesty certainly was, in 1691,
in the most utter loneUness of heart. She was on IU terms
with queen Catharine, and the cold, distant communica
tion of mere state audiences which took place between
herself and her sister, the princess Anne, was ready to
break out, from the quietude of aversion to the active war
fare of hatred that soon ensued.
The queen wrote to lady RusseU,' in reply to an appUca-
' This expression is in his letters in the Pepys' CoUections,
' Bibl. Bfrch, 4163; Plut, cvi, D, p. 42. Dated 1691, July 30.

MAEY IL 337
tion of that lady for the disposal of the auditorship of
Wales, worth 400/, per annum, for Mr. Vaughan, her son ;
on this head, queen Mary observed, —
" I am sure that the king wiU be as wiUing to please you as myself. You
are very much in the right to beUeve I have cause enough to think this life
not so fine a thing as, it may be, others do, that I lead at present. Besides
the pain I am almost continuaUy in for the king, it is so contrary to my own
incUnation, that it can he neither happy nor pleasant ; but I see one is not ever
to Uve for one's self. I have had many years of ease and content, and was not
so sensible of my own happiness as I ought ; but I must be content with what
it pleases God, and this year I have had good reason to praise him hitherto for
the successes in Ireland,' the news of which came so quick upon one another,
that made me fear we had some Ul to expect from other places. But I trust in
God that wUl not he, though it looks as if we must look for Uttle good either
from Flanders or sea. The king continues, God be praised, very weU; and
though I tremble at the thoughts of it, yet I cannot bnt wish a battle were
over, — I wish it as heartUy as Mr. RusseU himself."
WhUe the fleets of England and France were threatening
each other, the Jacobites were active. On the other hand,
those persons whose prosperity depended on the permanence
of the Revolution, indefatlgably infused In the queen's mind
suspicions of all who were not thefr friends. Thus Insti
gated, the queen sent for Dr. Hooper one day to chide him
for his undutiful conduct to archbishop Tillotson. " I have
been told," she said, " that you never wait on him ; neither
does Mrs. Hooper risit Mrs. Tillotson, as she ought to do."
Dr. Hooper proved to the queen " that he had paid aU the
respect, and so had his wife, at Lambeth-palace that was
proper, without proving intrusive." The queen smiled, and
said "she did not believe the report was true when she
heard it." The mischief-maker who had approached the
ear of majesty then ventured somewhat further, and subse
quently informed queen Mary that, of aU places in the world,
the apostoUc Hooper had been figuring at a great cock-
match at Bath, which It was supposed was a general muster
for the Jacobite gentry of the west of England. Dr,
Hooper, being questioned on this matter by queen Mary,
repUed, very quietly, " that it was true he had been at Bath
some months that year, on account of the disastrous health
of his -wife, who was aU the time in danger of her life."
The queen graciously Interrupted him to ask, " How Mrs.
' Surrender of Limerick, and subsequently of the whole island.
VOL. Vll. Z

338 MAKY II.
Hooper was then?" When dean Hooper had replied, he
resumed the discussion, affirming " that he had never heard
a tittle of the cock-match at Bath, or of the meeting of the
Jacobite gentlemen there."
The queen then informed him of some minor maUcIous
reports; among others, an accusation that he always tra
veUed on the Sabbath. " It is true," replied Dr. Hooper,
" that I am often on the road on the Sabbath, but it Is in
the pursuance of my clerical duty. I travel with my wife
journeys of several days to Bath. I always rest the whole
Sunday, and attend both serrices, — easUy ascertained, as I
usuaUy preach for the minister where I tarry." The queen
then told him, in a very gracious manner, " that she had
never believed what he was accused of, but she would always
let him know his faults, or rather, what he was accused of"
Her majesty concluded by "letting him know" that her in
former was Dr. Burnet, bishop of SaUsbury.' Burnet was
noted for his propensity to scandalous gossip, in the promul
gation of which he little heeded the conventional decencies
of time and place ; as, for instance, lord Jersey, the brother
of EUzabeth VilUers, told lord Dartmouth' that he had
heard bishop Burnet scandalize the duchess of York before
her daughter, queen Mary, and a great deal of company,
according to the weU-known passage of slander printed in
his history, — ^with this difference, that when speaking, he
did not conceal the name of the person -vrith whom he
'affirmed she was in love : this was Henry Sidney, created
by WiUiam III. earl of Romney, and given an enormous
grant of 17,000/. per annum. If lord Jersey could hear
Burnet hold forth on this subject, the queen could do the
same, as that noble was one of her household, whose duties
placed him near her chafr.
King WUliam arrived safely at Kensington, October the
13th. The queen was for a time reUeved from the heavy
' Hooper MS., m Trevor's WiUiam III., p. 473.
" Notes to Burnet, vol. i. p. 394; note and text. In the latter, Burnet
expressly declares that Anne Hyde, duchess of York, induced her husband to
become a Roman-cathoUc at the time when he received the sacrament according
to the ritual of the church of England.

MAEY II. 339
weight of the regnal sceptre, but she had to endure the
bitterest reproaches, because she had purposely miscon
strued his intention by the promotion of Dr. Hooper to the
deanei*y of Canterbury.
Not even in the most important crisis that occurred when
the nation was under her guidance for the two prerious years,
was queen Mairy ever permitted to meet her peers and com
moners assembled in parUament, for the purpose of convening
them or dismissing them. Her husband opened parliament
after his return from Flanders, October 22, 1691, and, in
his robes and crown, made a speech on the final reduction
of Ireland, in the course of which he never once mentioned
his wife. The king's neglect, whether proceeding from for-
getfulness. Ingratitude, or jealousy, was quickly repafred by
parliament; for on the 27th of the same month, the lords
and commons almost simultaneously moved " that addresses
be presented to her majesty at Whitehall,' giring her thanks
for her prudent care in the administration of the govern
ment In his majesty's absence." The new archbishop of
Canterbury, Dr. TiUotson, was requested by the lords to
draw up thefr address, which was thus worded : —
" We, your majesty's most dutiful and loyal subjects, the lords spfritual and
temporal in parUament assembled, from a true sense of the quiet and happiness
the nation hath enjoyed in your majesty's administration of government in the
king's absence, do hold ourselves obUged to present our most humble acknow
ledgments to your majesty for your prudent conduct therein, to the universal
satisfiiction as weU as the security of the kingdom."
The house of lords also requested lord VUUers (newly raised
to the peerage as viscount, and then lord chamberlain to the
queen) " to attend her majesty presently, to know what time
her majesty wUl appoint for this house to attend her with
the address." After some delay, lord VUUers acquainted
the house " that he had attended her majesty as com
manded, who hath appointed three o' the clock this Friday
afternoon for the house to attend her with the address.
In the drawing-room at Whitehall." This room must have
been the withdravring-room adjoining the weU -known Ban-
quetlng-haU at Whitehall, which had been spared by the
' MS. Journals of the House of Lords, from the Ubrary of E. C. Davey, esq.
z 2

340 MAEY II.
flames that had recently devastated nearly the whole of the
palace. The king had obtained some information on the subject
of Marlborough's correspondence with James II. He attri
buted to his treacherous betrayal the faUure of an attack
made on Brest by the EngUsh fleet in the preceding sum
mer.' " Upon my honour," repUed Marlborough, " I never
mentioned it but in confidence to my -wife." — "I never
mention any thing in confidence to mine," was the reply of
king WiUiam. The cynical spirit of this answer bears some
analogy to the temper of king WiUiam, yet the utter impos-
slbUity of the assertion, to one who knew that Mary held the
reins of government on the most confidential terms -with her
husband, makes it doubtful that the king ever made use of
any such words. The anecdote is -vridely kno-wn, but it is
founded on nothing but hearsay and tradition. It seems to
have been invented by Marlborough to account, in an off
hand way, to the world that this serious treachery had
accIdentaUy slipped out in a gossip-letter from lady Marl
borough to her sister, lady Tyrconnel, who was with the
royal exUes at the court of St. Germains; for how could
king WiUiam say to one of the councU of nine that he never
told any thing confidentiaUy to the queen, when her letters
give fuU proof that the most important matters were expe
dited by her ? WiUiam could make repartees which were
not only rude, but brutal, to the queen; neither was his
truth unsuUied; yet he possessed considerable shrewdness,
and was a man of few words. Such characters seldom make
remarks which are at once absurd and self-contradictory.
Whatsoever might have been the real version of this angry
dialogue, it led to the result that Marlborough took the step
he had hinted to James IL, and under his influence, and
that of his wife, the princess Anne was induced to pen a
penitential epistle to her father.' It was in these terms : —
' There were two attacks on Brest in this reign, both abortive ; the one here
mentioned, in which there was a great slaughter of the EngUsh, and another in
1694, when general ToUemache was kUled. There is documentary evidence that
Marlborough betrayed the last. — Dafrymple's History.
' James II.'s Memoirs, edited by J. S. Clark, 1691. Likewise Macpherson's
History, vol. u, p. 609, for the letter.

MAEY II. 841

" I have been very desfrous of some safe opportunity to make you a sincere
and bumble offer of my duty and submission to you, and to beg you wUl be
assured that I am both truly concerned for the misfortune of your condition, and
sensible, as I ought to be, of my own unhappiness. As to what you may thmk
I have contributed to it, if wishes could recall what is past, I had long since
redeemed my fault. I am sensible it would have been a great relief to me if I
could have found means to have acquainted you earUer vrith my repentant
thoughts, but I hope they may find the advantage of coming late, — of being less
suspected of insincerity than perhaps they would have been at any time before.
It wiU bea great addition to the ease I propose to my own mind by this plain
confession, if I am so happy as to find that it brings any real satisfaction to
yours, and that you are as indulgent and easy to receive my humble submissions
as I am to make them, in a free, disinterested acknowledgment of my fault, for
no other end but to deserve and receive your pardon.
" I have bad a great mind to beg you to make one compliment for me ; but
fearing the expressions which would be properest for me to make use of might
be, perhaps, the least convenient for a letter, I must content myself, at present,
with hoping the bearer wiU make a compliment for me to the queen."
Now the bearer in whose hands this letter was deposited for
conveyance, (as some say, by the princess Anne herself,)
was the last person Ukely to fetch and carry -vrith smtable
grace the affected verbal trash caUed compliments by the
fine ladies of that day. He was a bluff and stout Welch-
man, captain Davy Lloyd, one of James II.'s veteran sea-
commanders. Davy held the daughters of his old master
in the utmost contempt, which he did not scruple to express,
at times, without any very refined choice of epithets.
Both queen Mary and king WiUiam were soon apprized
that some such epistle was compounded, long before it
reached the hands of James II. Lady Fitzharding, it has
been noted, was the spy' of her sister EUzabeth VilUers, in
the famUy of the princess Anne ; and by her agency, king
WUUam knew accurately, within a very few hours, aU that
passed at the Cockpit. The princess Anne rather encou
raged than suppressed the daring imprudence of her favourite
lady Marlborough, and they would rituperate the reigning
monarch -with the most rirulent terms of abuse.' Thus all
the elements of discord were ready for riolent explosion,
which actually took place on the evening of January 9,
1691-2, when a personal altercation ensued between the
' This fact is pointed out by Coxe, in his Life of Marlborough, vol. i. p. 48.
2 Ibid,

342 MAEY II.
queen and the princess Anne.' There is no doubt but that
Anne's partiality for the Marlboroughs was the subject of
dispute. No particulars, however, transpfred, excepting
what may be gleaned from subsequent letters of the princess
Anne to lady Marlborough. From these it appears that the
queen threatened to deprive her sister of half her income.
The princess Anne weU knew that parUament baring secured
to her the whole, such threats were vain, since, if the wishes
of her sister and her spouse had been consulted, she would
have been In possession of neither half of the 50,000Z. per
annum aUowed her by her country. The princess Anne
had just received her payment of this aUowance, and had
settled on the Marlboroughs an annuity from it of 1000/.,'
circumstances which had probably added to the exaspera
tion of the queen, who considered that the whole of that sum
was tom from the ways and means of her husband to carry
on the war.
The next morning, it was the turn of lord Marlborough
to fulfil his duties as one of the lords of the bedchamber to
king WUliam, who secretly resolved to expel him from his
serrice, and to make the manner of his doing it very dis
agreeable to him. Marlborough commenced his waiting-
week -vrithout the least remark being made; but after he
had put on the king's shfrt and done his duty for the
morning, lord Nottingham was sent to him -vrith an abrupt
message, "that the king had no further -vrish for his ser
rices, and that he was commanded to sell or dispose of
all his employments." Every one was immediately busied
in guessing, his crime ; it was, however, generally supposed
to be making mischief between the princess and the king
and queen. The king and queen further desfred "that he,
lord Marlborough, would absent himself from thefr presence
for the future." '
The anguish that the princess Anne manifested at this
disgrace of her favourite's husband was excessive: she
' The date of Coxe is here foUowed,
^ Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough,
' Letter of lord BasU HamUton to his father, the duke of HamUton,

MAEY II. 343
greatly exasperated the king and queen by her tearful eyes
and sad countenance when she risited them. The princess's
anticipations of stiU harsher measures probably led to her
depression of spirits, since she received an anonymous letter
before the end of January, which warned her that the next
step taken by the government would be the imprisonment
of lord Marlborough. The letter likewise gave her a reaUy
salutary warning respecting the treachery of lady Fitzhar
ding, and that " aU the tears she had shed, and the words
she had spoken on the subject of lord Marlborough's dis
grace, had been betrayed to the king" by tha,t household
spy. It must excite great surprise in those to whom the
imder-currents of events are unknown, to think what could
impel king WUUam to utterly cashier a person who had
been so useful to him in the revolution as lord Marlborough ;
however, Evelyn, a contemporary, discusses the point plainly
enough, in these words:' "Lord Marlborough, lieutenant-
general, gentleman of the bedchamber, dismissed from all
his employments, miUtary and other, for his faults in exces
sive taking of bribes, covetousness, and extortion, on aU
occasions, from his inferior officers." These charges were
disgraceful enough to induce confusion of countenance in
any near connexion of the delinquent; but the practice of
robbing the public had become so common, that it was
seldom charged against any one who had not been concerned
in schemes generaUy considered more dangerously inimical
to the government.
Neither king WiUiam nor his consort dared openly accuse
the Marlboroughs of baring abetted the princess Anne in
a reconciUation with the exUed king ; they weU knew that
such an avowal would have led a thfrd of their subjects to
foUow thefr example. The sUence of the king and queen
(at least in regard to the public) on the real delinquencies
at the Cockpit, emboldened lady Marlborough sufficiently
to accompany her mistress to court on the next reception-
day at Kensington, about three weeks after the disgrace of
her husband. On the morrow queen Mary forbad the repeti-
' Evelyn's Diary, January 24, 1691-2.

344 MAEY II.
tion of lady Marlborough's intrusion, in the foUo-wing letter
to the princess Anne : —
"QuBBN Maet to the Peincess Anne.'
" Kensington, Friday, 5th of Feb.
" Having something to say to you which I know wiU not be very pleasing, I
choose rather to write it first, being xmwilUng to surprise you, though I think
what I am going to tell you shoidd not, if you give yourself time to think, that
never any body was suffered to Uve at court in lord Marlborough's circumstances.
I need not repeat the cause he has given the king to do what he has done, nor
his unwillingness at all times to come to extremities, though people do deseme
it." In this dark hint is embodied aU the information the queen
chose to give her sister regarding the cause of the disgrace
of her sister's favourites and guides. The passage, "written
"vrith extreme caution, was prepared thus, to guard agaiast
the poUtical mischief which might be done by the princess
Anne and her audacious ruler, from making the queen's
letter of remonstrance pubUc among thefr party. At the
same time if is manifest, that prerious remonstrance and
explanation on the offences of the princess and the Marl
boroughs had been resorted to by her majesty. What these
offences and injuries were, the preceding pages of this
biography fuUy explain. This section of the queen's letter
is an instance of the sagacity for which she was famed.
The whole is written with moderation, when the provocation
is considered, and the fearful dangers vrith which the throne
of Mary and her beloved husband was surrounded in 1692,
dangers which the correspondence of Anne and her coad
jutors with her exiled father greatly aggravated. Queen
Mary continues, —
" I hope you do me the justice to beUeve it is much against my vriU that I
now teU you that, after this, it is very unfit that lady Marlborough should stay
vrith you, since that gives her husband so just a pretence of beuig where he
should not. I think I might have expected you should have spoke to me of it ;
and the king and I, both believing it, made us stay thus long. Bnt seemg you
was so far from it that you brought lady Marlborough hither last night, makes
us resolve to put it off no longer, but teU you she must not stay, and that I have
aU the reason imaginable to look upon your bringmg her as the strangest thing
that ever was done. Nor could all my kindness for you, (which is always ready
to tum all you do the best way,) at any other tune, have hindered me from

' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 44. We have vamly searched
for the origmals of these letters, being unwilUng to take lady Marlborough's

MAEY II. 345
showing you so that moment, but I considered your condition, and that made
me master myself so far as not to take notice of it then."
Contrary to her usual style, in this letter the sentences
of the queen are not constructed logicaUy in aU thefr bear
ings; her reiterated "it" seems to mean, that she and king
William expected the princess Anne to propose to them the
dismissal of lady Marlborough, on account of the disgrace of
that person's husband, instead of bringing her into thefr
evening dra"vring-room as coolly as if nothing had happened.
Notwithstanding her foUy in thus conducting herself, the
situation of the princess Anne required consideration and
forbearance, for she was, in February 1691-2, within a few
weeks of her confinement, and her health at such times was
always precarious. The queen's excessive self-praises of her
own kindness to her sister are remarkable enough ; they are
founded on the fact that, in consideration "for her condi
tion," she did not reprove the princess pubUcly, and expel
the intruder she brought with her, as her majesty thought
they deserved.
" But now I must teU you," resumes queen Mary, " it was very unkind in a
sister, would have been very unci-ril in an equal ; and I need not say I have more
to claim, which, though my kindness would never make me exact, yet, when I
see the use you would make of it, I must teU you I know what is due to me, and
expect to have it from you. 'Tis upon that account I teU you plainly, lady Marl
borough must not continue with you, in the cfrcumstances her lord is.
" I know this wUl he imeasy to you, and I am sorry for it, for I have aU the
real kindness imaginable for you ; and as 1 ever have, so wiU always do my part
to live with you as sisters ought ; that is, not only like so near relations, but Uke
friends, and as such I did think to write to you. For I would have made myself
heUeve your kindness for her [lady Marlborough] made you at first forget what
you should have for the king and me, and resolved to put you in mind of it my
self, neither of us being wilUng to come to harsher ways ; but the sight of lady
Marlborough having changed my thoughts, does naturaUy alter my style. And
since by that I see how Uttle you seem to consider what, even in common civiUty,
you owe us, I have told it you plainly, but, withal, assure you that, let me have
never so much reason to take any thing iU of you, my kindness is so great that
I can pass over most things, and Uve with you as becomes [us]. And I desfre to
do so merely from that motive, for I do love you as my sister, and nothing but
yourself can make me do othervrise ; and that is the reason I choose to write, this
rather than teU it to you, that you may overcome your first thoughts. And when
you have weU considered, you wiU find that, though the thing be hard, (which I
again assure you I am sorry for,) yet it is not unreasonable, but what has ever
been practised, and what yourself woidd do were you [queen] iu my place.
" I will end this with once more desiring you to consider the matter imparti
ally, and take time for it. I do not desire an answer presently, because I would
not have you give a rash one. I shaU come to your drawing-room to-morrow

346 MAEY II
before you play, because you know why I cannot make one.' At some other
time we shaU reason the business calmly, which I wiU wilUngly do, or any thing
else that may show it shall never be my fault if we do not Uve kindly together.
Nor wUl I ever be other, by choice, than
" Your truly loving and affectionate sister, " M. E."
Lady Marlborough pubUshed queen Mary's letter, but
sedulously hid the provocation which elicited both that and
the command contained therein. In her narrative of the
events of this era, she carefiUly conceals the spring that
caused them, which was, the treacherous correspondence of
her husband vrith the court of St. Germains, and the letter
he had prompted the princess Anne to ¦write to her father.
Historical truth can only be found in contemporary docu
ments and narratives, yet not In one alone ; many must be
compared and coUated, before the mists In which selfish
interests seek to envelope facts can be dispeUed. Lady
Marlborough devotes several pages to the most enthusiastic
praises of herself; her disinterestedness and devotion to the
princess Anne are lauded to the skies. When in the Ust of
her rirtues she discusses her honesty, she thus expresses
herself: "As to the present power the princess Anne had
to enrich me, her revenue was no such vast thing, as that I
could propose to draw any mighty matters from thence;
and besides, sir Benjamin Bathurst had the management of
it. I had no share in that serrice.'" Yet 50,000/. per
annum Is a large revenue even in these times, and in the
early days of the national debt it bore a much higher com
parative value.
The princess Anne, after she had read her sister's letter,
summoned her uncle Rochester to her assistance. That
nobleman, from a thorough appreciation of the turbulence
and treachery which were united in the character of lady
Marlborough, had, in her outset of Ufe, strongly adrised
James II. to exclude her from the household of his daughter
Anne;' but the Indulgence of the father yielded to the sup*
plications of his chUd. When lord Rochester came to the
' This was because the queen did not choose to sit down to the basset-table
with lady Marlborough.
^ Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 54. ¦ Ealph's History.

MAEY II. 347
Cockpit, at the entreaty of the princess Anne, she put in his
hand the foUovring letter. It was eridently the production
of a consultation ¦with the favourite, since it is by no means
in the style of the princess herself,
"THE Peincess Anne to Qtteen Maet.'
" Your majesty was in the right to think that your letter would be very
surprising to me ; for you must needs be sensible enough of the kindness I have
for my lady Marlborough, to know that a command from you to part from her
must be the greatest mortification in the world to me, and, indeed, of such a
nature, as I might weU have hoped your kindness to me woidd have always pre
vented. I am satisfied she cannot have been guilty of any fault to you, and it
would be extremely to her advantage if I could here repeat every word that ever
she had said to me of you in her whole life. I confess it is no smaU addition to
my trouble to find the want of your majesty's kindness to me on this occasion,
since I am sure I have always endeavoured to deserve it by aU the actions of
my life.
" Your care of my present condition is extremely obUging, and if you coidd be
pleased to add to it so far as, upon my account, to recaU your severe command,
(as 1 must beg leave to caU it in a manner so tender to me, and so Uttle reason
able, as I think, to be imposed on me, that you would scarce requfre it from the
meanest of your subjects,) I should ever acknowledge it as a very agreeable mark
of your kindness to me. And as I must freely own, that as 1 think this pro
ceeding can be for no other intent than to give me a very sensible mortification, so
there is no misery that I cannot readUy resolve to suffer rather than the thoughts
of parting with her, [lady Marlborough].
" If, after aU this that I have said, I must stiU find myself so unhappy as to
be pressed on this matter, yet your majesty may be assured that, as my past
actions have given the greatest testimony of my respect both for the king and
you, so it shaU always be my endeavour, wherever I am, to preserve it carefuUy
for the time to come as becomes
" Your majesty's very affectionate sister and servant,
" From the Cockpit, Feb. 6th, 1692." " Anne.
It may be worthy of observation, that the date of this epistle
is on the bfrthday of Anne. When lord Rochester had
perused this letter, the princess Anne requested that he
would be the bearer of It from her to her majesty, to which
the imcle put a positive negative. He had hoped, that the
end of the controversy between his royal nieces woidd have
been the removal of such a fosterer of strife as lady Marl
borough had proved herself to be since she had arrived at
woman's estate, and he would not carry a letter which for
bad that hope. He then ¦vrithdrew from the conference,
declaring his Intention of mediating in all measures which
led to reconcUiatlon; which was, by strenuously adrising
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, pp. 55-57.

348 MAEY II.
the queen to send lady Marlborough at once from the
Cockpit to her house at St. Albans. Meantime, after the
princess or her favourite had concocted the letter quoted
above, it was copied and sent to fier majesty that day, by
the hands of one of the servants of the princess. Queen
Mary returned as answer a mere official message, carried to
the Cockpit by her lord chamberlain Nottingham, warning
lord and lady Marlborough to abide no longer at the palace
of Whitehall,' a measure which was the first step her ma
jesty took on the adrice of lord Rochester.
The princess Anne considered that her sister had no more
right to dictate what servants she should retain in her
residence of the Cockpit, than in any other private house,
since it had been purchased for her by thefr uncle Charles
II. after it had been aUenated from the rest of the palace
of Whitehall, in common with many other buUdings apper
taining to that part of the vast edifice which abutted on
St. James's-park. But the Cockpit, the Holbein-gateway,
and the adjoining Banqueting-house were, at that period,
all that were left of the once-extensive palace. When the
queen's message of expulsion from the Cockpit was delivered
to lady Marlborough, the princess Anne took the resolution
of ¦withdrawing from it at the same time, and announced her
intention to her sister in the foUowing epistle : —
"THE Peincess Anne to Queen Maet.'
" I am very sorry to find, that aU I have said myself, and my lord Eochester
for me, has not had effect enough to keep your majesty from persisting in a
resolution, which you are satisfied must be so great a mortification to me as, to
avoid it, I shaU be obUged to retfre, and deprive myself of the satisfaction of
Uving where I might have frequent opportunities of assuring you of that duty and
respect which I always have been, and shall be desfrous to pay you, upon all
occasions. " My only consolation in this extremity is, that not having done any thing in
all my life to deserve your unkindness, 1 hope I shall not be long under the
necessity of absenting myself from you, the thought of which is so uneasy to me,
that I find myself too much indisposed to give your majesty any further trouble
at this time.
" February 8, 1692."
' Coxe's Life of Marlborough, vol. i. p. 48, and Ealph's " Other Side of the
Question." s Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 58.

MAEY II. 349
The approaching accouchement of the princess rendered
all harshness to her odious in the eyes of every one. One
of the royal palaces had usuaUy been appointed for her
retfrement at such times, but as the queen had thought
proper to expel her favourite friend from her own private
residence, the princess affected to consider that she should
be too much at the royal mercy, if her accouchement took
place either at St. James's-palace or Hampton-Court. It
was the poUcy of the party of the princess Anne to give her,
as much as possible, the semblance of injured distress, and
the appearance of being hunted out of house and home at
a period dangerous to her health, and even to her life.
There can be no doubt that the mistress of 50,000/. per
annum need not have been obUged to sue for the charitable
grant of a home to abide in during the period of her ac
couchement; yet, a few hours before leaving the Cockpit,
the princess Anne sent a request to the duchess of Somerset,
to lend her Sion-house for her residence during the ensuing
summer. This lady was the ¦wife of a kinsman of the prin
cess, commonly called the proud duke of Somerset;' she was
the hefress of the great Percy Inheritance, and as such, the
possessor of the ancient historical palace of Sion.
WUUam III., whose actirity In petty instances of annoy
ance Is singularly at variance ¦with his received character for
magnanimity, immediately sent to the duke of Somerset,
and, in a conference ¦vrith him, endeavoured to induce him
to put a negative on the request of the princess Anne.'
But such mighty EngUsh nobles as Somerset and his con
sort, the Percy-hefress, soon proved to the foreign monarch
how independent they were of any such influence. The
duchess of Somerset forthvrith sent an affectionate message
to the princess Anne, declaring "that Sion-house was en
tfrely at her serrice." Before the princess left her residence
of the Cockpit for Sion-house, she thought proper to attend
the drawing-room of thefr majesties at Kensington-palace.
' He was the representative of Katharine Gray, and of course a prince of the
English blood-royal fi-om the younger sister of Henry "VIIL
« Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 59.

350 MAEY IL
In this interriew, according to the phraseology of the Marl
borough, the princess Anne made her majesty " aU the
professions imaginable, to which the queen remained as
insensible as a statue."
The massacre of Glencoe' occurred February 14, 1692,
It is but justice to queen Mary to observe, that this atrocity
did not disgrace the period when she swayed the regnal
sceptre ; neither is her signature appended to the detestable
warrant perpetrated by her husband, which authorized the
slaughter, in cold blood, of upwards of a hundred men,
women, and Uttle chUdren, of her subjects. The cfrcum
stances have been of late years too often narrated to need
relating here; but, as the "wickedness was committed in a
reign in which a woman's name Is partly responsible, it is
desfrable, by the production of the documents, to show that
the Iniquity was whoUy devised, as weU as executed, by
men.' An historian^ especially partial to the character of Wil
Uam III., considers as a great grievance the inquiry into
the massacre of Glencoe, and "with much naivete observes,
' It may be a point of curiosity to learn what James II. thought of this
sacrifice of his faithful subjects. After observing that he had been careful to
preserve the Uves of his Scottish fiiends, by candidly acknowledgmg to them
that he had no funds to aid them, and earnestly advising thefr submission as
early as August 1691, he continues, " They accordingly made thefr submission.
But contrary to all faith, by an order that Nero bimseif would have had a
horror of, the prince of Orange ordered the soldiers to massacre the Glencoe
people iu cold blood. It was hard to imagine that the prince of Orange could
apprehend danger from such a handful of men; but he either thought that
severity necessary to make an example of, or he had a particular pique against
that clan. Either of these reasons, according to his moraUty, was sufficient to
do an inhuman thing. Yet this was the pretended assertor of the Uves and
liberties of the British nation, to whom aU oaths were to be made a sacrifice of,
rather than he should not reign over it." — Autograph Memofrs of king James.
Macpherson's Stuart Papers, vol. i. p. 239.
^ A document nearly simUar, signed by WiUiam III., is carefidly preserved by
the present lord L'ovat, authorizing the extermination of the clan Fi-aser. The
conduct of Simon Fraser had, it is true, been intolerably , wicked ; but tliat was
no fault of the women and chUdren of his district, which Ukewise comprised the
feudal sovereignty of 1000 men capable of bearing arms, of whom many must
have been perfectly innocent of wrong.-See Mrs. Thomson's Lives of the
Jacobites. These attempts at extermination had for precedents the massacre of
St. Bartholomew's-day, the wars in Ireland in the time ot EUzabeth, and the
conduct of the Spaniai-ds to the Caribs. ' Cunningham.

MAEY IL 351
that the said inquiry was " remarkably troublesome to
many respectable people." The Scotch parliament pro
nounced it " a barbarously murderous transaction." After
this opinion, the " respectable people " concerned in it put
a stop to the further trouble this decision might have given
them, by producing the foUovring warrant : —
"WiLLLiM, R.'
" As for the M'Donalds of Glencoe, if they can weU be distinguished from the
rest of the Highlanders, it wUl be proper, for the vindication of pubUc justice,
to extirpate that set of thieves.
"W. E."
This extermination, which was extended in intention to the
Erasers, and other clans in the highlands, must have ori
ginated in the mind of WUUam himself, as is erident by
the wording of the warrant. A Scotchman would have
spoken -with more certainty of the localities of his country;
at the same time. It is improbable that any EngUsh minister
suggested an extirpation, because even the execution of
military law in England was always regarded with horror.'
Perhaps the open quarrels which then agitated the royal
famUy prevented public attention from dwelling on the atro
cities perpetrated by the king's warrant In the north.
The princess Anne -withdrew to Sion about the beginning
of March, taking with her lady Marlborough, on whom she
' Lord Stair proved, that when WUliam III.'s signature was doubly affixed,
as in this warrant, the execution was to be prompt and urgent.
' Sir John Dafrymple's History and Appendix. CampbeU of Glenlyon was
the mere executioner. The following letter vriU show that the Dutch monarch's
agent directed, from his master, that the chUdren of Macdonald of Glencoe were
to be murdered : — -
" For thefr Majesties' service. To Capt. CampbeU.
" SiE, " BaUachoUs, Feb. 12, 1692.
" You are hereby ordered to faU upon the rebels, the Macdonalds of Glencoe,
and put all to the sword under seventy. You are to have especial care that the
old fox and his cubs do not escape your hands. You are to secure all the
avenues, that no man escape. This you are to put into execution at five in the
morning precisely, ' and by that hour I'U strive and be at you with a stronger
party. This is by the king's especial commission, for the good of the country,
that these miscreants may be cut off root and branch. See these be put in
execution without fear, else you may be expected to be treated as not true to
the kin^s government, nor as a man fit to carry a commission in king WiUiam's
serrice. Expecting you wiU not faU in the fiilfiUing, as you love yom-seU, I
subscribe these with my hand. ¦ „ ^^^^^^ Duncanson."

352 MAEY Ii:
lavished more affection than ever. As an instance of Ul-
"will, king WiUiam gave orders that his sister-in-law should
be deprived of the guards by whom she had been attended
since her father had given her an independent estabhsh-
ment. The princess lost her guards just as she had the
most need of them, for the roads aU round the metropoUs
swarmed vrith highwaymen; her carriage was stopped, and
she was robbed, between Brentford and Sion, soon after her
estabUshment there. The adventure was made the subject
of many lampoons, and great odium was thrown on the king
and queen, on account of the danger to which the hefress-
presumptlve was exposed through their harshness. The act
of depriring the princess Anne of the usual adjuncts of her
rank, was a parting blow before her persecutor left England
for his usual Flemish campaign. The king resigned the
sole government, for a thfrd time, into the hands of his
queen, and bade her fareweU on the 5th of March, He
saUed vrith a ¦wind so favourable, that he reached the Hague
on the succeeding day, and from thence went to Loo.'
To Ulustrate the narrative of these royal quarrels, the
reader must be given an insight of Bumet's genuine opi
nion on this subject, ¦written in his own hand.' It wUl be
allowed to be a great historical curiosity; his opinions must
raise a smUe, when it is remembered how closely and ap-
pro-vingly intimate he and the duchess of Marlborough
were in after Ufe : — " About the end of the session in
parUament, the king caUed for Marlborough's commissions,
and dismissed him out of his serrice. The king [Wil
Uam] said to myself upon it, 'He had very good reason
to beUeve that Marlborough had made his peace with
king James, and was engaged in a correspondence with
France. It was certain he was doing aU he could to set
' M. de Dangeau writes m his Journal, March 15, 1692, that his news from
England announced, " that when the princess of Denmark quitted the court,
her husband foUowed her ; that WUUam took all the guards from them, and
forbade them the honours of the court they had been accustomed to receive;
and that "VPiUiam, after this exploit, went to Holland on the 24th of March."
"^ Harleian MS. The hand is precisely the same with the autograph papers
relative to Burnetts ministry at the death of WUUam lord Russell, in possession
of his grace the duke of Devonshire.

MAEY II, 353
on a faction in the army and nation against the Dutch and
to lessen the king, as weU as his wife, who was so absolute
a favourite "vrith the princess, [Anne,] that she seemed to be
the mistress of her heart and thoughts, "vwhich were alienated
both from the king and queen. The queen had taken all
possible methods to gain her sister,, and had left no means
unessayed, except purchasing her favourite, which her
majesty thought it below her to do. That being the-
strongest passion in the princess's breast, aU other ways
proved ineffectual; so a risible coldness grew between the
sisters. Many rude things were daUy said at that court,
[the estabUshment of the princess Anne,] and they struggled
to render themselves very popular, though vrith very Ul
success; for the queen grew to be so universaUy beloved,
that nothing would stand against her in the affections of the
nation. Upon Marlborough's disgrace, his "vrife was ordered
to leave court. This the princess Anne resented so highly,
that she left the court Ukewise, for, she said, ' she would not
have, her servants taken from her,' AU persons that have
credit -vrith her have tried to make her submit to the queen,
but to no purpose. She has since that time lived in a
private house, and the distance between the sisters has now
risen so high, that the risiting of the princess is looked
upon as a neglect of the queen's displeasure ; so that the
princess is now as much alone as can be imagined. The
enemies of the government began to make great court to
her ; but they feU off from her very soon, and she sunk into
such neglect, that if she did not please herself in an inflexi
ble stiffness of humour, it wovdd be very uneasy to her,"
Burnet, in his manuscript notations, (where he always
used the present tense,) ' speaks llke-vrise -vrith much acridity
on the impropriety which he asserts was committed by
admfral RusseU in expostulating, -with great rudeness, to
king William on Marlborough's disgrace, demanding to see
the proofs of his fault, and reminding the king. In a tone
" not "Very agreeable," that it was he who carried the letters
between his majesty and Marlborough before the Revolu-
' Harleian MSS., 6584.
VOL. VII. A A

354 MAEY II.
tion,' This was just before he undertook the command of
the fleet of La Hogue. Notwithstanding aU Burnet's re
rilings of RusseU for his rough and brutal temper, and his
Jacobitism, every true-hearted person must venerate him
for upholding the honour of his country and her naval flag
(which had been wofully humbled since the Revolution)
above every poUtical consideration. It appears, by the
weU-known exclamation of his old master, king James,
when he beheld the bravery of his EngUsh saUors at La
Hogue, that he was entfrely of the same opinion.
' Harleian CoUection, No. 6585. It is curious to compare the condemnatory
passages which occur against the Marlboroughs, husband and -wife, throughout
Burnet's manuscripts, with the entfre suppression of the same in his printed
work, and with the close intimacy which existed afterwards between these con
genial souls.

MARY II
QUEBN-EEGNANT OP GREAT BEITAIN AND lEELAND.

CHAPTER IX.

Vigour of the queen's government — ^Accouchement of princess Anne at Sion-
house — Death of her infant — Her danger — Queen visits her — Queen's harSh
manner — Long illness of the princess — Her letters (as Mrs. Morley) on queen's
sending Marlborough to the Tower — Negotiation between the queen and
princess — Their letters — ^Victory of La Hogue — Queen's conduct — Her por
trait by Vandervaart, {description of second portrait) — Severity of her reign
— Princess Aime's letter brought to James II. — Eemarks on the royal sisters
by the messenger — Queen's letter to lady EusseU — Princess Anne settled at
Berkeley-house — Series of letters on petty annoyances (as Mrs. Morley), to
lady Marlborough (as Mrs. Freeman) — Queen stands sponsor with archbishop
TiUotson— -His curious letter on it— Return of the Idng — ^Anecdotes of the
queen — ^Verses on her knitting — Continued enmity to princess Anne— Queen
accompanies the king to Margate — Obliged to return -to Canterbury — King's
departure — ^Anecdotes of the queen's stay at Canterbury — Queen relates par
ticulars to Dr. Hooper — Her presents to the cathedral altar— ^ueen and the
theatre — Her persecution of Dryden — ^Anecdotes of the queen and her infent
nephew — ^Retm-n of the king.
Queen Mary was again left, surrounded by unexampled
difficulties. There were few persons in the country but
anticipated the restoration of her father. A great naval
force was coUecting and arming for the invasion of the
country; the French had remained masters of the seas ever
since the Revolution, despite the junction of the fleets of
England with the rival forces of HoUand. The queen had
reason to beUeve that the only competent naval commander
from whose skUl she could hope for success, was desfrous of
her father's restoration ; she lUcevrise knew that the princess
Anne had ¦written to her father, " that she would fly to him
the very instant he could make good his landing In any part
of Great Britain," Indeed,, a letter to James II, contain
ing these words, it is said, was intercepted by the king and
A A 2

356 MAEY II.
queen, and that it was the cause of the disgrace of the
Marlboroughs, since they were mentioned as active agents
in the projected treason. Thus, the dangers surrounding
the career of queen Mary were truly appaUing, and, to a
spirit less firm, would have been insurmountable. But
she was not, in 1692, altogether a norice in the art of
government; she had weathered two regencies, each pre
senting tremendous difficulties. It was strongly in her
favour that Marlborough, instead of sharing her most inti
mate councUs as a disused friend, was now an unmasked
enemy. One of queen Mary's earliest occupations was, to reriew
the trained-bands of London and Westminster, mustered in
Hyde-park to the number of 10,000 men : they were des
tined to the defence of the capital In case of an invasion
from France. She Ukevrise ordered the suspected admiral
RusseU to proceed to sea, while her royal partner in Hol
land caused the Dutch fleet to hasten out, to form a junc
tion with the naval force of England under the command
of Russell. How singular it is that history, which is so
larish in commendations on the excellence of queen Mary's
private ¦vfrtues, should leave her abUItles as a ruler unno
ticed. Time has unveiled the separate treacheries of her
coadjutors in government: the queen was the only person
at the head of affafrs on whom the least reUance could
have been reposed in time of urgency. It is weU known
now that Nottingham, Godolphin, Russell, and many others,
both high and low in her ministry, were watching every
event, to tum ¦vrith the tide if it tended to the restoration
of her father. But whUe giving queen Mary every credit
as a ¦vrise and courageous ruler in the successive dangers
which menaced her government in the spring of 1692, what
can be said of her humanity, when caUed to the bedside of
her suffering sister in the AprU of that year? The princess
Anne sent sir Benjamin Bathurst from Sion-house with her
humble duty, to inform her majesty " that the hour of her
accouchement was at hand, and that she felt very Ul indeed,
much worse than was usual to her." Queen Mary did not

MAET n. 557
think fit to see sfr Benjamin Bathurst, and took no notice
of this piteous message.'
After many hours of great suffering and danger, the
princess Anne brought into the world, April 17th, 1692, a
living son, who was named George, after her husband ; but
the miserable mother had the sorrow to see it expfre soon
after its hasty baptism. Lady Charlotte Bevervaart, one
of the princess Anne's maids of honour, being a Dutch
woman, and on that account considered as the more accept
able messenger, was despatched from Sion-house to announce
to queen Mary the death of her new-born nephew. Lady
Charlotte waited some time before the queen saw her. At
last, after her majesty had held a consultation ¦vrith her
uncle lord Rochester, the messenger of the princess was
admitted into the royal presence. The queen herself in
formed lady Charlotte Bevervaart that she should risit the
princess that afternoon; indeed, her majesty arrived at
Sion almost as soon as that lady.
Queen Mary entered the chamber of her sick and sor
rowful sister, attended by her two principal ladies, the
countesses of Derby and Scarborough. The princess Anne
was In bed, pale and sad, but the queen never asked her how
she did, never took tier hand, or expressed the least sym
pathy for her sufferings and her loss. Her majesty was
pleased to plunge at once into the dispute which had
estranged her from her sister, to whom she exclaimed in
an Imperious tone, as soon as she was seated by the bed
side, "I have made the first step by coming to you; and I
now expect that you should make the next by dismissing
lady Marlborough." The princess Anne became pale with
agitation at this unseasonable attack; her Ups trembled as
she repUed, "I have never in my life disobeyed your
majesty but in this one particular; and I hope, at some
time or other, it ¦vriU appear as unreasonable to your majesty
as it does now to me," The queen immediately rose from
her sea,t, and prepared, ¦vrithout another word, to depart.
Prince George of Denmark, who was present at this extra-
> Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 69.

3SS MAEY n.
ordinary scene, led her majesty to her coach; while so
doing, the queen repeated to him precisely the same words
which she had addressed to the unfortunate invalid in bed.
The two ladies who had accompanied thefr royal mistress
comported themselves according to thefr indiridual disposi
tions on the occasion. Lady Derby, who had been recom
mended to the queen by the princess Anne as groom of the
stole, in those halcyon days when these royal sisters wer^
rejoicing together on the success of the Revolution, now
showed her ingratitude by turning away from the sick bed
¦vrithout maldng the slightest inquiry after the poor invahd;
but lady Scarborough behaved in a manner better becoming
a womaidy character.
The queen retained sufficient conscientiousness to be
shocked, on reflection, at her o^wn conduct. She was heard
to say, on her return to Kensington, " I am sorry I spoke as
I did to the princess, who had so much concern on her at
the renewal of the affafr, that she trembled and looked as
white as her sheets," ' Yet the queen's uneasy remembrance
of this cruel interriew arose from remorse, not repentance,
for the unfeeling words she regretted were the last she ever
uttered to her sister. Thus the three persons of the Pro
testant branch of the royal family In England were irrecon-
cUably dirided during life, two against one. Lonely as they
were in the world, they were at mortal enmity ¦with every
other relative who shared thefr blood. It vrill be aUowed
that the causes of war and dirision ¦vrith the exUed Roman-
catholic head of th^ir family were of a lofty nature : there
is an historic grandeuj in a contention for the estabUshment
of differing creeds, and even for the possession of thrones;
great, and even good princes, have struggled unto the death
when such mighty interests have been at stake. But when
enmities that last to death between sisters may be traced in
their origin to such trash as disputes concerning convenient
lodgings or amount of pocket-money, what can be the
opinion of the dignity of such minds?
Queen Mary had received a letter, in the same April,
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, pp. 69-71.

liAEY n. 359
dfrected by the hand of her exUed father, and written
throughout by him. It was a cfrcular addressed to her, and
to those members of her privy councU who had been most
active in raising the calumny that disinherited his unfortu
nate son. This communication announced that his queen
expected her confinement in May, and inrited them to
come to St, Germains to be present at the expected birth
of his chUd, promising from Louis XIV. freedom to come
and go in safety.' Such announcement must have been
sent in severe satire, rather than in any expectation of
the inritation being accepted.
As may be supposed, the princess Anne did not undergo
aU the harassing agitation the queen's harshness inflicted
on her in the hour of her weakness and suffering with
impunity. A dangerous fever foUowed her sister's risit,
and she hung for several days on the very verge of the
grave. From this dispute, some information: regarding the
royal etiquette of that period may be ascertained, for it
appears that her majesty, queen Mary IL, honoured aU her
female nobiUty not below the rank of a countess with a
state lying-in risit; but if she knew not better how to
comport herself in a sick room than she did in that of her
sister, these royal risitations must have thinned the ranks
of her female nobiUty. Long before the princess Anne
was convalescent she underwent fresh agony of alarm: by
her majesty's orders lord Marlborough was arrested, and
was forthwith hurried to the Tower. Then the invaUd
princess harassed herself by writing, all day long, notes and
letters to his -vrife, who was obliged to leave Sion in order
to risit and assist her husband. The earUest letter -written
by the princess Anne to lady Marlborough after this event,
seems to have been the foUovring. It is dateless, but pro
bably occurs the day after Marlborough's incarceration in
the Tower. Although the princess had not then eft her
lying-in chamber, it seems she had been agitated by reports
that her own arrest was pending. She addresses lady Marl
borough as Mrs, Freeman, the assumed name they had pre-
* Evelyn's Diary, vol, u, p, 32. Mtmoirs of James IL

360 MAEY II.
riously agreed lipon:" she terms herself, as usual, Mrs,
Morley: — "THE Peincess Annd to Ladt Maelbdeoitgh, [May 16, 1692.]
" I hear lord Marlborough is Bent to the Tower, and though I am certain they
have nothing against him, and expected by your letter it would be so, yet I was
struck when I was told it, for methinks 'tis a dismal thing to have one's fiiends
sent to that place. I have a thousand melancholy thoughts, and cannot help
fearing they should hinder you from coming to me, though how they can do that,
vrithout making you a prisoner, I cannot guess.
"I am just told by pretty good hands, that as soon as the wind turns westerly,
there wiU be a guard set upon the prince and -me. If you hear there is any such
thing designed, and that 'tis easy to you,' pray let me see you before the wind
changes; for afterwards, one does not know whether they wiU let one have
opportunities of speaking to one another. But let them do what they please,
nothing shall ever vex me, so I can have the opportunity of seeing dear Mrs.
Freeman, and I swear I would Uve on bread and water between two walls with
out repining ; for as long as you continue kind, nothing can ever be mortification
to your faithful Mrs. Morley, who wishes she may never enjoy a -moment's
happiness in this world or the next, if ever she .proves false to you."
The correspondence of lord Marlborough with the court of
St. Germains was the cause of his arrest ; it would be waste
of time, after the specimens produced regarding it, to discuss
it as a mystery. Many circumstances prove that queen Mary
had accurate inteUigence of his treacherous intrigues. It is
as erident, that the intention of her government was not to
prove his guilt home to him, lest the princess Anne's share
in it should be revealed, — not that the queen screened her
sister out of tenderness, but from a sagacious anticipation
that, if her conduct were discovered, most of her party
would not scruple in foUo-vring her example. Invasion was
threatened daUy, and the queen acted -vrith proper precau
tion, by securing so slippery a person as lord Marlborough
untU the expected naval battle was decided. Meantime, the
princess Anne resolved to write to her sister, queen Mary,
and determined to send the letter by the hands of one of the
prelates, StiUingfleet bishop of Worcester. Anne's poUcy In
writing to the queen is explained in one of her confidential
blUets to lady Marlborough. She anticipated that the queen
would debar her approach; but she wished it to be spread
far and vride, and to become universaUy known, that she had
' So written ; meaning, " if it is easy for you to come to me." — Coxe's Life
of Marlborough, vol, i, p, 51, Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough.

MAEY ii; 361
desired to risit her sister, and had been forbidden. As the
best plan for promoting this end, she sent for the bishop of
Worcester. He returned her royal highness a polite answer
that he would come to her, but said not when ; therefore the
princess observed, in one of her notes, that she dared not go
to London, as she had intended to do, to meet lady Marl
borough, lest the prelate should arrive at Sion during her
absence.^ The next morning, the bishop of Worcester actuaUy came
to Sion before the princess Anne was dressed. On her in
terriew with him, he wiUingly undertook the commission of
delivering the letter of the princess to the queen, but praised
her majesty so very warnoly, as to induce some disgust in her
sister on accoimt of his partiality. The princess, who gives
this narrative in her letters to her dear lady Marlborough,
adds this extraordinary conclusion to her narrative : " I told
the bishop of Worcester that you had several times desfred
you might go from me ; but I beg again, for Christ Jesus'
sake, that you would never more name it to me. For, be
assured, if you should ever do so cruel a thing as to leave
me, — and should you do it without my consent, (which if I
ever give you, may. I never see the face of Heaven) — I vriU
shut myself up and never see the world more, but live where
I may be forgotten by human kind," It is difficult to credit
that this rant was written by a royal matron who was con
sidered under the guidance of religious principles, being,
moreover, married to a prince to whom she was much
attached, and was deemed a model of the conjugal virtues.
The princess Anne finally prevailed on bishop StiUingfleet
to deUver the letter she had prepared to the queen : — ¦
"THE Peincess Anne to Queen Maet.
" Sion, the 20th of May, [1692].
"I have now, God be thanked, recovered my strength weU enough to go
abroad. And though my duty and incUnation would both lead me to wait upon
your majesty as soon as I am able to do it, yet I have, of late, had the misfor
tune of being so much under your majesty's displeasure, as to apprehend there
may be hUrd constructions made upon any thing I either do, or not do, with the
most respectful intentions.
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, pp. 74-76.

362 MAEY IB
" And I am in doubt whether the same arguments that have prevailed with
your majesty to forbid people from showing thefr usual respects to me, may not
be carried so much farther as not to permit me to pay my duty to you. That, I
acknowledge, would be a great increase of affliction to me, and nothing but your
majesty's own command shall ever wiUingly make me submit to it ; for whatever
reason I may think in my own mind I have to complain of being hardly used,
yet I will strive to hide it as much as possible."^
This last sentence is disgusting in its falsehood, because the
princess had, according to her voluntary avowal, deliberately
derised the whole plan of -writing and sending the letter by
the bishop, -with the intention of making her wrongs as pub
Ucly notorious as possible.
The bishop of Worcester, if we may trust the account of
the princess Anne, returned to her not a Uttle scandaUzed at
the reception which the queen had given to her sister's letter.
The princess seems to have had no other end than to ehcit
some harsh answer, and to let her sister be aware that she
had been apprized of her command to forbid any of the
nobiUty to pay her thefr usual risits at Sion. The princess
had added, at the conclusion of her letter, " That she would
not pretend to reside at the Cockpit, unless her majesty
would make it easy to her." This was meant as a leading
question, to ascertain whether. If she returned to that isolated
fragment of WhitehaU, the queen would -wink at the pre
sence there of lady Marlborough. The reply which her
majesty sent to the princess Anne by the bishop of Wor
cester, was couched in these words : —
" Queen Maet to the Peincess Anne.
" I have received yours by the bishop of Worcester, and have Uttle to say to
it, since you cannot but know that as I never use compUmente, so now they can
not serve. 'Tis none of my fault that we Uve at this distance, and I have
endeavoured to show my wiUingness to do otherwise ; and I wUl do no more.
" Don't give yourself any unnecessary trouble,'' for he assured 'tis not words
can make us Uve together as we ought. You know what I requfred of you;
and now I tell you, if you doubted it before, that I cannot change my mind, but
expect to be compUed vrith,^ or you must not wonder that I doubt of your kind
ness. You can give me no other marks that -wUl satisfy me, nor can I put ainy
other construction upon your actions than what aU the world must do that sea
them. These things do not hinder me from being very glad to hear that you

' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 76. The letter ends with
a formula of great devotion to the queen.
2 By coming to court, where the queen did not mean to receive hers
» By the dismissal of lady Marlborough*

MAEY IL 363
are well, and wishing that you -may continue so, and that you may yet, whUe it
is in your power, oblige me to be your affectionate sister, " Maeie, E."
The princess Anne gathered from this answer, that her
sister was inflexible regarding the expulsion of the Marl
boroughs from the precincts of WhitehaU, — a cfrcumstance
which decided the question of her future residence. She
was at that time in treaty for a lease of the princely man
sion buUt by John lord Berkeley, and after the reception of
the royal epistle, she hastened to conclude the business, and
settle her household there.' The princess did not whoUy
forsake the Cockpit; she retained her possession of that
estabUshment, and used it as cantonments for those of her
servants who were not offensive to the government.
The plans and poUtics of Anne are unveUed, by her o-wn
hand, in the letter she wrote to her confidante, when the
answer of the queen settled these arrangements. It is a
letter which thoroughly displays her disposition, -written
about two days after that to the queen dated May 20th : —
"THE Peincess Anne to the Ladt Maelboeouoh.
{Under the designation of Mrs. Freeman^
" May 22, [1692,] Sion-house.
" I am very sensibly touched with the misfortune that my dear Mrs. Freeman
has in losing her son,' knowing very weU what it is to lose a child; but she
knowing my heart so well, and how great a share I bear in all her concerns,
I wiU not say any more on this subject, for fear of renevring her passion too
much. " Being now at Uberty to go where I please, by the q-neen's refusing to see
me, I am mightUy incUned to go to-morrow, after dinner, to the Cockpit, and
from thence, privately, in a chafr to see you. Sometime next week I beUeve
it -wUl be time for me to go to London, to make an end of that business of
Berkeley-house." '
• The princess Anne's residence at Berkeley-house is usuaUy stated to have
taken place in 1690 to 1691 ; but her letter herewith marks the precise time of
her concluding the agreement.
^ AUuding to the death of lady Marlborough's first-bom son, an infant.
' This marks the time exactly of the commencement of Anne's residence at
Berkeley-house. She went dfrect, in February, to Sion, and from thence to,
Bath, and passed the -winter of 1692-3 at Berkeley-house, which was her town-
house tUl after the death of her sister. It was (as is evident from the MS. letters
in the possession of bis grace the duke of Devonshire) situated on the site of the
present Devonshfre-house. The noble old trees, which are plentiful in that neigh
bourhood, are relics of the grounds of the .princess Anne.

364 MAEY n.
In shameless contradiction of her voluntary assertion to the
queen, that although she thought herself iU used, she would
hide it as much as possible, occur the foUovring passages: —
" The bishop [of Worcester] brought me the queen's letter early this morning;
and by that letter, he said he did not seem so weU satisfied with her as he was
yesterday. He has promised to bear me witness that 1 Tiaee made all the
advances that were reasonable ; and, I confess, I think the more it is told
about that I would have waited on the queen, but that she refiised seeing me,
is the better, and, therefore I will not scruple saying it to any body when it
comes in my way,
" There were some in the famUy, [the household of the princess,] as soon as
the news came this morning of our fleet beating the French, that adrised the
prince [George of Denmark] to go in the afternoon to compliment the queen;
and another [of her household] asked me ' if I would not send her one ?' But
we neither of us thought there was any necessity of it then, and much less
since I received this arbitrary letter. I don't send you the original, for fear an
accident may happen to the bearer, for I love to keep such letters by me for my
justification. Sure never any body was so used by a sister ! But I thank God
I have nothing to reproach myself withal in this business; but the more I
think of aU that has passed, the better I am satisfied. And if I had done
otherwise, I should have deserved to have been the scorn of the world, and to be
trampled upon as much as my enemies would have me.
" Dear Mrs. Freeman," [concludes this remarkable missive,] " fareweU ! I
hope in Christ you wiU never think more of leaving me, for I woiUd be sacrificed
to do you the least service, and nothing but death can ever make me part with
you. For, if it be possible, I am every day more and more „ „ ,
" P. S. — I hope your lord is weU. It was Mr. Maule and lady Fitzhardiog
that advised the prince and me to make om compliments te the queen."
It is erident that this letter contained a copy of the
queen's letter to the princess Anne ; and the spirit of the
whole communication prompted lady Marlborough, nothing
loath, to make it as public as possible, in which the princess
justified herself by producing the original. Such intrigues
added greatly to the dangers by which queen Mary was
beset at this difficult period of her government, — dangers
which can only be appreciated by a knowledge of the false
ness of too many who were, perforce, trusted by her with
important offices. The naval rictory aUuded to by the
princess Anne In her letter to lady Marlborough, on which
the faction in her household adrised her to send the queen
" a compliment," was the celebrated one of La Hogue,
where the English navy regained some of the credit they
had lost since the Revolution. It was a rictory gamed
almost against the wiU of the commanders, Russell and

MAEY Hi 365
Carter, by the tenacious valour of the seamen they com
manded. The correspondence of admfral Russell with James
II. has been matter of history for nearly a century. Queen
Mary knew it weU ; but she, moreover, was aware that most
of the superior officers in the fleet were positively resolved
not to strike a blow against her father, thefr old master,
who was then at La Hogue, waiting the result of the mighty
preparations that France had made In his behalf.
Queen Mary met the danger with the high spirit arising
from her indomitable courage and great abUitles. She sent
CO the officers of the fleet, " that much had been told her of
thefr disaffection, and she had been strenuously advised to
take thefr commissions from them; but, for her part, she was
resolved to rely on their honour. She felt conrinced that
they would not at once betray her, a helpless woman, and
the glory of their country at the same time : she trusted
the Interests of both implicitly in thefr hands," If king WU
Uam had been governing England at the time, the Protestant
cause had been lost; but the reins of sovereignty being held
by a queen, whose manners were soft and popular, created a
strong sympathy among aU classes. What the queen felt,
meantime, rriay be guessed by those who have read her cor
respondence of the year 1690, where she analyzes pathetl-
caUy her system of enclosing hermeticaUy the agonies of
her suspense in the recesses of her own heart.
Admiral RusseU had promised James II, to avoid fighting,
if he could do so without loss of the honour of the British
navy. If TourviUe, he said, would be content to slip out of
port In a dark night, and pass him, he would not keep too
sedulous a look-out for him, especiaUy if he had king James
on board; but "if he came out of port in open day, and defied
him, then an action must take place, and, with the eyes of
Europe on them, the fight would be In earnest. King James
was far from thinking this arrangement unreasonable, and
the same was signified to Tourrille, the French admiral, who
thought more of his own personal glory than the interest of
James II. He refused to pass in the manner RusseU Indi
cated, although he might have done so without the least

366 MAEY Ii:
imputation on his valour, since the united EngUsh and Dutch
fleets were so much superior to him in force, that his hope
of rictory must have been mere desperation. He came out
of port in bravado, on the 16th of May, in his flag-ship, and
a battle ensued. When once engaged, admfral RusseU and
his coadjutor Carter (who was a Jacobite without conceal
ment) did thefr duty to thefr country. Carter was kUled
by some French buUet not aware of his affection to his old
master. There is a noble historical baUad, one of the naval
songs of England, which Ulustrates the battle of La Hogue
in fewer and more impressive words than any other pen
can do ; — "THE ViCTOBT OP La HofiUE.
" Thursday, in the mom; the ides of May,
(Eecorded for ever be the famous ninety-two,)
Brave EusseU did discern, by dawn of day.
The lofty sails of France advancing slow ;
' AU hands above — abft ! let English valour shine ;
Let fly a culverin, the signal for the line j.
Let every hand attond his gun !
FoUow me, you soon -wiU see,
A battle soon begun,'
TourvUle on the main triumphant roUed,
To meet the gallant Eussell in combat on the deep;
He led a noble train of heroes bold.
To sink the EngUsh admfral at his feet.
Now every vaUant mind to victory doth aspfre.
The bloody fight's begun, the sea iteelf 's on fire.
Mighty fate stood looking on,
"WhUe a flood.
All of blood,
FUled the scuppers of the Eoyal Sun.'
Sulphur, smoke, and fire fiUed the afr.
And with thefr thunders scared the GaUic shores
Thefr regulated bands stood trembling near.
To see thefr Uly banners streaming now no more.
At six o'clock the red the smUing victors led.
To give a second blow.
The final overthrow, — ,
British colours ride the vanquished main !
See ! they fly amazed through rocks and sands.
On danger they rush, to shun dfrer fate;
Vainly they seek for aid thefr native land, '. ,
The nymphs and sea-gods mourn thefr lost estate.

*' TourviUe's flag-ship was Le SoleU EoyaJ.^

MAEY II. 367*'
For evermore adieu, thou royal dazzEng Sun t
From thy untimely end thy master's fate begun.
Now we sing
Live the king.
And drink success to every British tar !"
This rictory was decisive against the Jacobite cause. No
formidable effort, from that time, was made for James II.
Many of his most ardent friends, (among others, the cele
brated dean Sherlock,) out of a sense of duty to thefr coun
try, took the oaths to WiUiam and Mary.
When the EngUsh fleet arrived at Spithead, without the
loss of a single ship, queen Mary promptly sent 30,000Z, in
gold to be distributed among the common sailors, and sent
gold medals to be given to the officers. There is a tradition,
that after the rictory of La Hogue, the unfinished sheU of
the new palace of Greenwich was ordered by queen Mary
to be prepared for the reception of the wounded seamen;
and that from this cfrcumstance the idea first originated in
her mind of the conversion of this neglected buUding into
a hospital, similar in plan to her uncle's foundation at Chel
sea for veteran soldiers. The vigour and ability of queen
Mary's government at the- period of difficulty preceding the
battle of La Hogue, became themes of commendation of all
the poets of her party. Among the verses to her honour,
those of Pomfret are really the best : —
" "When her great lord to foreign wars is gone.
And left his Mary here to reign alone.
With how serene a brow, how void of fear.
When storms arose did she the vessel steer !
And when the raging of the waves did cease.
How gentle was her sway in times of peace ;
How good she was, how generous, how wise.
How beautifid her shape, how bright her eyes I"
Vandervaart's pencil' proves the great difference a few
years, accompanied by Increase of embonpoint, can make in
the person of a female. Mary II, appeared in 1692, accord-
' Several fine engravings in the mezzotuito style, from the original portrait of
Mary at this period, may be seen in the British Museum, in the coUection of
English portraits, vol. xi. p. 127. Maeia D. G. Anglic;, Scotics, et Hibbe;
THIM Eemna, &c. Vandervaar pinxit; J. Smith- fedt. Sold by E. Cooper-,
Three Fidgeons, in Bedford-street. Another, same plate, in Crowles' London,
vol, xi.

868 MAEY II,
ing to the engraring, as represented in the second portrait
which Ulustrates this volume. AU angles are fiUed up in this
delineation of the royal matron ; her cheeks, which present
any thing but roundness of contour in her elegant portrait
painted by Wissing for her father, when she was princess of
Orange,' are now comely, and she appears on the verge of
that decided obesity which is presented in her portraits and
medals about the period of her demise. The architecture
to the right of the queen marks both the date of the present
portrait, and the place where her majesty is represented to
be seated. The round windows are the entresols of the
interior of the Fountain-court, Hampton-palace, and thus
they are seen from the chapel-royal there. The queen is
represented at morning serrice in the royal gallery, pro-
bably listening to some favourite preacher. She is sitting
half enveloped in the velvet curtain of the royal closet;
part of the curtain, "with the hea^vy gold fringe, is flung
over the front of the gaUery on which her elbow leans.
Her hand is supported by the large Spanish fan, closed,
which ladies used when walking, instead of a parasol, until
the end of the eighteenth century.
The queen's singular habiUments give a correct idea of
the morning dress which ladies In England wore from 1687
to 1707, and certainly is not inaptly described In the Spec
tator as head-clothes : it superseded the use of the bonnet
or hat, and seems a Dutch modification of the ever-elegant
Spanish mantiUa-veUs. It is a cornette head-dress of three
tiers made of guipure point, pUed on the top of the hair,
which is combed up from the roots and set on end, except
ing some curls ranked as love-locks, serring as basements
to the lace stracture. Broad and fuU lappets border the
cheeks on each side, and fall as low as the elbows, and are
ornamented with bows of striped ribbon. Probably these
lappets, or side veUs, drew over the face to shade off the sun.
The brocade robe is stiff-bodied, and very hard and high ; the
sleeves are narrow at the shoulders, where they fasten with
bows of ribbon; they widen as they descend, and tiu-n up
> Seo frontispiece.

MAEY IL 369
¦with cuffs from the elbows, to show the sleeves of the che
mise, which sustain rich ruffies of guipure-point, meeting
stiff long gloves of leather, that mount too high to permit
any portion of the arm to be risible. The bosom is shaded
by the chemise, the tucker hearily trimmed with guipure.
A large magnificent cluster of diamonds on the chest, and a
throat-necklace of enormous pearls, are the only jewels worn
¦vrith this costume. The queen must have been constant to
this style of dress, since one of her Dutch portraits, on which
is marked the year 1688, presents her precisely in the same
attfre. It is a fine work of art, of the Flemish school, in the
possession of lord Braybrooke, by whose permission it was
exhibited a few years since at the British Institution. The
queen Is represented sitting in a doleful-looking apartment,
by a table with a green cloth, calUng strongly to mind the
small and dark parlour she was forced to dine in, after she
had resigned her dining-room at the Hague to serve for her
chapel. At the avriiil crisis of the battle of La Hogue, Mary II.
was but thirty years of age; her height, her foUy-formed
and magnificent figure, and, as her poet sings, "the bright
ness of her eyes," were singularly becoming to her royal
costume. In the absence of her cynical partner, she took
care to derive all possible advantages from frequently ap
pearing in the grandeur of majesty, and kept the enthusiasm
of the London citizens at its height by receiring thefr con
gratulatory addresses in her royal robes, and on her throne
in the fatal Banqueting-room, and by often reriewing thefr
trained-bands and artlUery-companies in person, which ciric
miUtia was considered. In that century, formidable as a
mihtary body. Nevertheless, there were dark traits mixed
with her government : the fate of Anderton, the supposed
printer of some tracts in favour of the queen's father, is
cited as an instance of open tyranny, unexampled since the
times of Henry VIII,' The printer was brought to trial
durmg the queen's regency of 1693. He made a rigorous
defence, in spite of being brow-beat by the Insults of judge
' SmoUett's History of England, vol. ix. p. 209.
VOL. VII. B B

370 MAEY II.
Treby from the bench. There was no real eridence against
him, nothing but deductions, and the jury refused to bring
in a verdict of high treason ; they were, however, re^vUed
and reprimanded by judge Treby, tUl they brought in Aur
derton guUty, most reluctantly. The mercy of queen Mary
was invoked in this case; but she was perfectly inexorable,
and he suffered death at Tyburn under her warrant, the
man protesting solemnly against the proceedings of the
court. " The judge," he declared, " was appointed by
the queen, not to try, but to conrict him." He Ukewise
forgave his jury, who expressed themselves penitent for his;
death. If these circumstances be as the historian has re
presented,' England, after the Revolution, had smaU cause
to congratulate herself on her restored Uberties, and juries
were composed of more pUant materials than in the case of
sfr Nicholas Throckmorton. WiUiam and Mary, who had
reversed the sentence of Algernon Sidney, and signed the
BUl of Rights, were not remarkably consistent. Perhaps
they meant to Umit Uberty merely to the members of the
house of commons, and the responsible representatives of
large masses of money and land.
John Dunton, a fanatic bookseUer, who -wrote a journal,
thus comments on his pubUcation of the History of the
Edict of Nantes, "It was a wonderful pleasure to queen
Mary," observes Dunton,^ " to see this history maide Eng
Ush. It was the only book to which 'she granted her royal
Ucence in 1693,", Whether John Dunton means leave of
dedication, or whether the liberty of the press was under
such stringent restrictions as his words imply, is not entfrely
certain, but the doleful fate of Anderton gives authenticity
to the latter opinion.
The historical medals of the reign of WilUam III. and
Mary are a most extraordinary series : many of them, quaintj
' SmoUett.
' Dunton's Auto-biography, p. 153. John Dunton opened his shop, at the
sign of the Eaven in the Poultry, the day of the proclamation of William and
Mary. He soon after pubUshed the Secret History of "WhitehaU, the blackest
Ubel on the family of his royal patroness that had -yet appeared : it -was concocted
by one Wooley, a hack-writer, and John Duntou himself^

MAEY IL 371
absurd, and boastful, seem as if meant to out-do the vain
glorious inscriptions of Louis XIV. A medal, which was
struck in Holland in commemoration of the events of this
year, is unique in artistical productions, for no other poten
tate, either Christian or pagan, ever thus commemorated a
scene of torture. "It is," says the obsequious historian,'
"the more remarkable, as the antients never represented
such subjects on thefr medals." It represents the horrible
death of Grandval, who was accused and conricted of con
spiring to kUl WilUam III., and executed in Flanders at the
EngUsh camp, according to the EngUsh law of treason. ^
This tender testimonial was plentifully distributed in Great
Britain under Mary's government, and is to be seen in
bronze stiU, in old family cabinets. It presents WUUam in
vrig and laurel on one side of the medal; the reverse is
ornamented "with the executioner standing over the half7
animated corpse of Grandval, knife in hand. Ffres burn
at the head and feet of the rictim, in one of which Ms heart
is to be consumed : the front of the scaffold is adorned "with
the inscription of the crime. On the right side are three
stakes; on one Is the head, on the two others the fore-
quarters of the miserable wretch : the other side is adorned
with the gallows, and the other quarters. August 13, 1692,
the day of the butchery. Is beneath.^ Detestable as these
executions might be, they were legal. The monarchs reign
ing in England were justified in permitting them; but to
celebrate them iu such commemorations Is unexampled, and
infinitely disgraced the epoch. Medals in those days must
have taken the place of poUtical caricatures ; in these of
WiUiam and Mary, every kind of grotesque absurdity is
represented as befaUing thefr adversaries. Several medals
were struck on the escape of WilUam from the fog off Goree;
he is seen In the boat, in his wig and armour, pointing to
' MedaHic History of the four laSt Eeigns, — ^WUUam, Mary, Anne, and
George ; with prints of the Medals : p. 23, plate 14,
* ^ Toone's Chronology.
' The author has lately been shown one of these extraordinary medals in
sUver by W. D. Haggard, esq.,F.B.s., E.S.A., extant in his valuable coUection aij
Hammersmith.
B B 2

372 MAEY n.
two gothic towers which seem to command the port of Goree.
Towards the end of Mary's life she is represented in these
medals as enormously fat, with two or three ponderous
chins; in general, the reverses represent her in the cha
racter of a Uoness crushing serpents, or valiantly aiding
her husband king WUUam, who, in the semblance of a Uon,
is catching and mauUng, not only the GalUc cock, but seve
ral hens, making thefr feathers fly about very absurdly. A
droUer series of caricatures on themselves were never per-
petraited, than this series of medals iUustrative of the regnal
history of WiUiam and Mary.
Meantime, we must return to the penitential letter writ
ten by Anne to her father, which, although dated in the
preceding December, had been traveUing by cfrcuitous
routes several months before the bearer reached James II.
in Normandy. At the town of La Hogue, not far from the
ancient port of Barfleur, James IL had encamped with the
army which the ships of TourviUe were intended to con
vey to England. The king had expressed, in his Journal,
great distrust of the affected repentance of his daughter
Anne and her adrisers. He observed, "Former treachery
made such intentions Uable to suspicion; yet Marlborough
put so plausible a face upon his treasons, that if they were
not accompanied by sincerity, they had, at least, a specious
appearance. They had this reason, above aU others, to be
credited ; they were out of favour "vrith the ^jrince of Orange
[WiUiam III,], and reaped no other benefit from thefr past
infidelities than the infamy of having committed them. The
most interested persons' repentance may be credited, when
they can hope to mend thefr fortunes by repairing thefr fault,
and better thefr condition by returning to thefr duty,'"
Such were the very natural refiections of the outiaged
father, when he received the intimation of the repentance
of his daughter Anne, and of her favourites the Marl
boroughs. Captain Davy Lloyd, the old sea-comrade of
James IL, who had been entrusted with the penitential
letter of Anne, brought it to him the day after the battle
1 Memofrs of James IL, edited by Stinicr Clark,

MAEY IL 373
of the Hogue. Notwithstanding the eool shrewdness of
the above remarks^ the old king's parental tenderness
yearned when he read the letter of his favourite child.
As captain Lloyd left the presence, king James observed
to some friend who stood by him, "That his daughter
Anne was surely better than her sister Mary." Captain
Lloyd, over-hearing this remark, re-opened the door he had
closed, put in his head, and, with a rough seaman's oath
and rude canine comparison, let his master know his opi
nion, that both were alike In principle.' Captain Davy
Lloyd was an intimate friend of admfral RusseU. He had
had several secret interriews with that admfral — and,, as some
say, with the princess Anne herself — on Jacobite affairs before
he brought the letter to her father. A few words which
the princess let fall regarding her own selfish interests^
probably occasioned his weU-kno"wn burst of indignation,
when he heard her father mention her with fondness.
When impartiaUy considered, the conduct of Anne was
far less excusable than that of her sister, queen Mary; nor
is her guilt against her country to be palliated. If the
princess had had any real conviction of the religious prin
ciples she professed, she would have endured far severer
mortifications than any William and Mary had the power
to inflict on her, before she would have disturbed the set
tlement whereby a Protestant reUgion was secured the pre
dominance in England. Supposing James II. had been
restored in 1692, there would have been far more danger
from the encroachments of Rome than before the Revolu
tion took place. Anne therefore remains conricted of be
traying not only her king and father, but the monarch of
the Revolution, whom she had helped to raise. 'As her
father was stUl more devoted to the church of Rome in
1691 and 1692 than in 1688, base self-interest or revenge
ful pique must have been the ruling motives of her com
munication with him.
From some unexplained caprice, admfral Russell refused
a title "vrith which queen Mary was desfrous of investing him.
» BiU. Bfrch, 4163, fbUo 44.

374 MAEY IL
Her majesty had recourse to the intervention of his vene
rated relative^ Rachel lady RusseU; the foUo"wing fragment
of the royal correspondence on this subject has been pre
served : — " I confess myself lazy enough in writing, yet that
has not hindered me from ans"wering lady Russell's letter,
but staying for Mr. Russell's o"wn answer, to which you
referred me. I have seen him this day, and find he is
resolved to be Mr. RusseU stUl. I could not press him
further on a thing he seemed so little to care for, so there
is an end of that matter. Whether the king "vriU think I
have done enough on that matter or no, I cannot teU; but
it Is not in my nature to compUment, which always makes
me take people at thefr words.'"
When queen Mary had surmounted the most formidable
of the difficulties which beset her regnal sway in the event
ful summer of 1692, she had once more leisure to descend
from the greatness of the firm and courageous monarch to
the pettiness of the spitefrd partisan^ and to derise new
annoyances for the mortification of her sister. According
to the narrative of lady Marlborough, it was the earnest
endeavour of queen Mary to prevent the nobility from pay
ing the princess Anne the accustomed risit of ceremonial on
her convalescence, when she left her lying-in chamber. For
this purpose, the queen intimated to aU her courtiers, both
lords and ladies, that those who went to Sion-house would
not be received at court. The queen (if the Marlboroughs
may be beUeved) herself condescended to intimate this re
solution to lady Grace Pierrepolnt,^ who repUed, "That she
considered that 'she owed a certain degree of respect to the
princess; and if her majesty declined receiving her for pay
ing it, ^he must submit to her pleasure and stay away from
court." Lady Thanet was not so high-spfrited, but she sent
her excuse in writing to the princess, lamenting the pro
hibition of her majesty. To this letter the foUo-vring answer
was returned : —

' Bibl, Bfrch, 4163, foUo 44,
* Conduct of the Duchess of MarlhorQugh, p. 96.

MAEY II. ¦873
"THE Peincess Anne to the DowAafiE-LAOT Thanet,'
" It is no small addition to my unhappiness in the queen's displeasure, that I
am deprived by it of the satisfaction of seeing my friends, especiaUy such as
seem desfrous to see me, and to find by those late commands which her majesty
has given you, that her unkindness is to have no end. The only comfort I have
in these great hardships is, to think how little I have deserved them from the
queen; and that thought, I hope, wiU help me to support them with less
impatience, " I am the less surprised at the strictness of the queen's command to you
upon this occasion, since I have found she can be so very unkind to, &c.,
" Anne."
The princess, when her health permitted the journey,
left Sion-house, and went, for the restoration of her shat
tered constitution, to try the waters of Bath. Thither the
indefatigable Ul-nature of the queen pursued her. The
report of the honours with which the mayor and corporation
of Bath received Anne, enraged her majesty. The mor
tifications were but trifling which the queen had the power
to inflict, yet she did her worst, and condescended to order
such letters as the foUo-vring to be -written to the mayor of
Bath, a taUow-chandler by trade, to prevent the respect that
his city thought due to the hefress-presumptlve of the
crown : —
"LOBD NoTTINQ-HAM, LOED CHAMBEELAIN, TO THE MaTOE OE BatH.^
" Sie,
" The queen has been informed, that yourself and your brethren have attended
the princess with the same respect and ceremony as have been usuaUy paid to
the royal famUy. Perhaps you may not have beard what occasion her majesty
has had to be displeased with the princess, and therefore I am commanded to
acquamt you, that you are not, for the future, to pay her highness any respect
or ceremony -without leave from her majesty, who does not doubt of receiving
from you and your brethren this public mark of your duty.
" Your most humble servant,
" Nottingham."
This undignified mandate was duly received by the mayor
of Bath, and his brethren the aldermen, who were sorely
troubled and perplexed therevrith. They consulted with Mr.
Harrington, of Helston, as to what course would be most pm-
dent to take, ¦vrithout making himself an instrument of the
queen's malice by putting a pubUc afiront on thefr iUustrious
risitor. In consequence of Harrington's adrice, he commu-
t Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 96.
= Ibid, p. 98.

376 MAEY IL
nicated the letter to Anne, who is said to have smiled at the
paltry manifestation of her august sister's Ul-wiU, and vrith
great good sense desfred the corporation to omit aU mark of
distinction to herself in future, as she would not, on any
account, wish that the friendly city of Bath should incur
the Ul-wUl of thefr majesties on her account. In conse
quence of this reply, the mayor and corporation, who had
been accustomed to attend her royal highness in procession
to the abbey-church every Sunday, discontinued that mark
of attention for the future;' but the ungenerous conduct of
the queen had, of course, the effect, always to be observed in
the English character, of exciting the enthusiasm of the inde
pendent citizens in favour of her persecuted sister. Amie's
manner of treating the withdrawal of such honours as a
corporation could bestow, is told in an affectionate note
which she wrote to her favourite after they came out of
the abbey-church. From it may be learned, that lady
Marlborough was more startled and disturbed at the loss of
the corporation-homage than her mistress : —
"THE Peincess Anne to Ladt Maelboeouoh,*
( Under the names of Morley and Freeman.)
" Dear Mrs. Freeman must give me leave to ask her, if any thing has hap
pened to make her uneasy ? I thought she looked to-night as if she had the
spleen, and I can't help being in pain whenever I see her so. I fancied, yester
day, when the mayor failed in the ceremony of going to church with me, that
he was commanded not to do it. I think 'tis a thing to be laughed it. And if
they imagine either to vex me or gain upon me by such sort of usage, they will
be mightily disappointed. And I hope these fooUsh things they do wUl every
day show more and more what they are, and that they truly deserve the name
your faithful Morley has given them."
The pronoun they perhaps pertains to the sovereigns Wil
liam and Mary; as for the name the princess had given
them, there Is no further information afforded. The names
of " CaUban " and " monster " were appellations the princess
very liberally bestowed on her brother-in-law king WiUiam
at this juncture ; but in neither of these, nor in others not
quite so refined, could his royal partner claim her share.
The princess Anne was an adept in the odious custom
» History of Bath, by the rev. Eichard Warner.
' Conduct of the. Duchess of Marlborough, p. 99.

MAEY II. 377
of giring nick-names, — a proceeding to which only the
lowest minds condescend. Before the Marlborough pub
Ushed her letters, she expunged the abusive epithets found
in them which were meant to designate king WiUiam.
It appears, from Dr. Pearse's Memorials of Bath, that the
place of residence of the princess Anne was caUed In that
city the Abbey-house, a mansion now demoUshed, but which
was then inhabited by a Dr. Sherwood, the most celebrated
physician in the west of England. The princess was his pa
tient as weU as his tenant : he caused a private communication
to be made between the Abbey-house and the king's bath
for her use. The foUowing letter from the princess to her
favourite was written. It is supposed, at Berkeley-house,
soon after leaving Bath.
"the Peincess Anne to Ladt Maelboeough,'
( Under the names of Morley and Freeman.")
" I really long to know how my dear Mrs. Freeman got home ; and now I
have this opportunity of writing, she must give me leave to teU her, that if she
should ever be so cruel as to leave her faithful Mrs. Morley, she will rob her of
all the joy and quiet of her life ; for if that day should come, I could never
enjoy a happy minute, and I swear to you I would shut myself up, and never see
a creature. "You may see all this would have come upon me, if you had not been,
[j. e. never existed,] if you do but remember what the queen said to me the
night before your lord was turned out of aU, when she began to pick quarrels.
" And if they [«. e. king WilUam and queen Mary] should take off twenty or
thirty thousand pounds (per annum), have I not Uved on as little before ? When
I was first married we had but twenty, (it is true, the king'' was so kind as to
pay my debts); and if it should come to that again, what retrenchment is there
in my family I would not -wUlingly make, and be glad of that pretence to do it?
" Never fancy, dear Mrs. Freeman, if what you fear should happen, that you
are the occasion ; no, I am very weU satisfied, and so is the prince teo, it would
have been so, however, for Caliban is capable of doing nothing but injustice,
therefore rest satisfied you are no ways the cause. And let me beg once more,
for God's sake, that you would never mention parting more, — no, nor so much
as thmk of it; and if you should ever leave me, be assui-ed it would break your
faithful Mrs. Morley's heart.
" P. S. — I hope my dear Mrs. Freeman vrill come as soon as she can this
afternoon, that we may have as much time together as we can. I doubt you
wUl think me very unreasonable, but I really long to see you again, as if I had
not been so happy this month."
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 99. The square brackets con
tain the explanations by the author; the round ones are the parentheses of the
princess. ' This was her father, James II. ; it is confirmatory of some preceding anec-
, dotes.

378 MAEY II.
The above letter, and the succeeding one of the same series,
are totaUy "vrithout dates; but there are some aUusions to
the imprisonment of lord Marlborough In the Tower, and
subsequently to his release on baU,' which cfrcumstances
caused considerable absences of his lady from the side of
her adoring princess; because, to use the phrase so often
occurring in Burnet's historical narratives, "'twas scarce
decent" that a person under baU for treason should reside
in the famUy of the heiress-presumptive of the British
crown. The queen kept lord Marlborough as long as possible
either incarcerated in the Tower, or under the restraint
<of baU. It was Michaelmas term before his baU was ex
onerated; afterwards, he took up his abode In the house
hold of the princess Anne. A new struggle then com
menced, regarding the residence of this obnoxious pair in
the household of the heiress. In thiis, a party agaiast.
them in the princess's establishment at Berkeley-house
took ardent interest. Lord Rochester, the uncle of the
royal sisters, again went and came from the queen, with
proposals respecting thefr dismissal; Mr. Maule, the bed
chamber gentleman of prince George, undertook to sway
his master, and sfr Benjamin Bathurst and lady Fitzharding
the princess. Lord Rochester hinted to his niece, that if
she would dismiss lady Marlborough, in order to show a
semblance of obedience to the queen, her majesty would
permit her to receive her again into her serrice. The prin
cess seems to have caught at this compromise, for she sent
lady Fitzharding to her sister to know if she had rightly
understood thefr uncle's words; for if there was no mis
take, she would give her majesty "satisfaction of that sort."
This compUance was so far from gi"ring queen Mary satis
faction of any kind, that she feU Into a great passion,
and declared to lady Fitzharding, "that she would never
see the princess again upon other terms than parting -with
lady Marlborough, — ^not for a time, but for ever." And
Mary added, vrith imperious voice and gesture, " she was
a queen, and would be obeyed:" this sentence, according

MAEY IL 379
to lady Fitzharding's testimony, her majesty repeated seve
ral times with increasing harshness.'
Lady Marlborough again proposed retiring of her own
accord, which proposition, as she weU knew, would draw
from her fond mistress an agonizing appeal by letter not
to forsake her, in which entreaty the compUant prince
George joined. "THE Peincess Anne to Ladt Maelboeouoh.'
{By the names of Morley and Freeman.)
" In obedience to dear Mrs. Freeman, I have told the prince aU she desired
me; and he is so far from being of another opinion, that, if there had been
occasion, he would have strengthened me in my resolutions, and we both beg
you wiU never mention so cruel a thing any more."
" Can you think," continues the princess, " either of us
so -wretched that, for the sake of 20,000/., and to be tor
mented from morning to night with knaves and fools, we
should forsake those we have such obUgations to, and that
we are so certain we are the occasion of aU thefr misfor
tunes ? Besides, can you beUeve we wUl truclde to Caliban,
who, from the first moment of his coming, has used us at
that rate as we are sensible he has done ?
"But suppose that I did submit, and that the king could
change his nature so much as to use me -vrith humanity,
how would aU reasonable people despise me ? How would
that Dutch monster laugh at me, and please himself -vrith
baring got the better? And, which Is much more, how
would my conscience reproach me for having sacrificed
it, my honour, reputation, and aU the substantial comforts
of this life, for transitory interest, -which, even to those
who make it thefr interest, can never afford any real satis
faction to a rirtuous mind?"* It Is sickening to find Anne
and her accompUces talking of -vfrtue to one another, each
knowing that they were betraying thefr country from pri
vate pique and self-interest, just as they had preriously
' Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 100. * Ibid., p. 84.
" Blanks are left in the printed copy for the epithets of 'Caliban' and
'Dutch monster,' which are restored from the Coxe MSS., Brit. Mus.

380 MAEY n.
betrayed a father and benefactor. She proceeds, after this
burst of undeserved self-praise,— " No, my dear Mrs, Free
man! never beUeve your falthfiil Mrs, Morley wiU ever
submit. She can wait with patience for a sunshine day,
and if she does not live to see it, yet she hopes England
wiU fiourish again," Namely, when her young son, the
duke of Gloucester, had arrived at man's estate, — "a sun
shine-day " neither he nor his mother were ever to behold.
Meantime, the young duke lived at his nursery-palace of
Campden-house, from whence he was frequently taken to
wait upon her majesty, who made a marked difference be
tween her treatment of this chUd and of his parents.
If our readers -vrish to form any Idea of the features of
the metropolis, and Its manners and customs, under the
sway of Mary IL, in Uke manner as they have been shown
under our Norman, Plantagenet, and Tudor sovereigns, vain
would be the search among the folios which it has pleased
the policy of modern -writers to caU history ; In truth, fiUed
up as they are -vrith dry detaUs of foreign battles, and the
mere outward movements of cabinet diplomacy, such nar
rative is the history of any country rather than our own.
There were, however, -writers who traced -vrith horrible
exactitude popular manners at the close of the seventeenth
century, even as the gentler pen of Addison drew the sta
tistics of society in the latter years of queen Anne. From
one of these works are gathered a few memorials of localities
In London and Westminster at the close of the seventeenth
century. The author has chosen to sketch a tour through
London, beginning vrith May fafr, — not the well-known
locale of fashionable celebrity, but an ancient fafr held
on the sites of those streets, which fair, departing wholly
from the useful purposes which caused its foundation, had
become coarsely ricious. The tourist and his friend, to
convey them to "the May fair," took a hackney-coach,
a vehicle resembUng the modern hfred carriages of the
kind in nothing but in name. " For want of glasses to
our coach," he says, "we drew up tin sashes, pinked

MAEY II. 381
¦with holes Uke a cuUender, to defend us from stifling vrith
the dust," '
Among the strange proceedings at the May fair, the
describer of its "humours" mentions "that a country
man, walking in its vicinity, near the HayhUl-farm, (now
Farm-street,) had picked up a toad in one of the ditches;
and seeing a coach full of ladies of quality proceeding to
look at the fafr, he became much incensed at the sight
of the loup masks by which they hid their faces, and
preserved at once thefr complexions and thefr incognito.
'In those black -rizards you look as ugly as my toad
here,' said the man to them; and so saying, he tossed
the creature into the low-hung carriage, a manoeu-vre which
caused the whole party to alight in great consternation
for the purpose of expelUng thefr unwelcome inmate, to
the infinite deUght of the mob of May fafr," Such parties
of the queen's ladles, escorted by her lord chamberlain
and lady Derby, often made excursions from her palace,
and it was the custom to bring home very rich fairings,
either from the May fair, or from the July fafr, likewise
caUed that of " St, James," This circumstance is men
tioned in a Uvely letter of lady Cavendish^ to her lord,
descriptive of some such excursion;* but it was to the St.
James's fafr, and seems to have been performed on foot, one
of the guards of the fair bevy being a certain sfr James, of
whose identity no traces are to be found in her letter, but
we presume that he was sfr James Lowther, There Is some
reason to suppose that the queen was of the party. " I have
been but once to the fafr ; sfr James gallanted us thither, and
in so generous a humour, that he presented us aU -with fafr-
Ings : the queen's fafring cost him twenty gmneas. None of
us but Mrs, AlUngton had the grace to give him a fairing.
On our return, we met my lord chamberlain, lord Notting
ham, in the cloisters of St, James's-palace, He addressed
himself extremely to the afore-named lady, [Jane AUing-
' Ward's London. ^ Daughter of Eachel lady EusseU,
« Devonshfre Papers, copied by permission of his grace the duke of Devonshfre.

383' MAET rr."
ton,] and never left her all the time we stayed there;
which, indeed, was not long, for our two gouvemanteg,
lady Derby and sfr James, were impatient to be gone,
so I had not time to choose a fairing.'"
St. James's-palace is described, by the author quoted
above,^ as being entered " through a lofty porch into the
first court, where a parcel of country-boobies were gazing at
the whale's ribs with great amazement." Thus it appears
that the naval kings of England had ornamented the gates
of thefr home palace with this maritime trophy. Then, after
describing the beauties of the palace, and promenading in
the Birdcage-walk, he went to take a tum on the parade,
" which Is," he says, " in a morning quite covered with the
bones of red herrings ! From thence we walked to the canal,
where ducks were frisking in the water and standing on their
heads, showing as nlany tricks as a Bartholomew, tumbler.
I said to my friend, ' Her majesty's ducks are wondrous
merry.' " Queen Mary was thus considered as the heiress of
the pet ducks of her uncle Charles IL, as weU as of his
crown. " We then took a riew of the famed figure of the
Gladiator, which is indeed weU worthy of the place it stands
in. Behind this figure, at the foot of the pedestal, we sat
down to see the aqueduct, and watch its inhabitants the
ducks, who deUghted us vrith their pastimes. Thence we
walked by the decoy, where meandering waters glided
smoothly beneath thefr osier canopies. We turned from
thence Into a long lime- walk ; at the termination of this
delectable aUey was a knot of lofty elms by a pond side,
round which were commodious seats. Here a parcel of old
cavaUers were conning over the history of the ciril wars,
and perhaps comparing the two revolutions."
In the course of their walk, they pass Westminster-abbey.
The remarks prove that it was in a state of the most dreadM
desolation, and that it was crowded vrith " the poor of St.
• This letter has no date of year or day, but it is in answer to one from her
lord, dfrected to her at ArUngton-house, (since Buckingham-house,) dated July
1692, in which he begs her to buy him a fairing. July 25th is St. James's-
day, when the fafr commenced. , W^^l-g London.

MAEY II. 383
Margaret's parish, begging in the time of dirine serrice;"
that is, the pauper population of the fearful haunts of misery
and rice in the purUeus of the streets round the abbey, came
to hold out their hands for the offertory given by the abbey-
congregation, — a proof that aU organization of proper dis
tribution was even then broken up, " We crossed the
palace-yaard, on the east end of which lay the relics of West
minster clock-house,' in a confused heap ; from thence we
moved on to the tennis-court of WhitehaU-palace, fenced
round "vrith network." This the author affected to consider
" as a net set up to catch Jacobites ;" therefore it may be
presumed it was one of their haunts, " We passed the
tennis-court, and went forwards to Whitehall, whose ruins
we riewed with no little concern, as consumed by fiames
near so much water, and all that artists, at the cost of our
greatest kings, had improved to delight and statellness,
remains dissolved In rubbish; those spacious rooms where
majesty has sat so oft, attended with the glories of the court
— the just, the ¦wise, the beautiful — now huddled in confu
sion, as if the misfortimes of princes were risited on their
palaces as well as persons. Through several out-courts we
came to Scotland-yard, covered ¦vrith recumbent soldiers,
who were basking in the sun," At WhitehaU-staIrs the au
thor embarked for the city. " When we came upon Tower-
hiU, the first object that more particularly affected us was
that emblem of destruction, the scaffold. Next to this
memento mori we were struck with the Traitors' -gate, where
the faU of the moat-waters, in cataracts on each side, made
so terrible a noise, that it is enough to fright a prisoner out
of the world before his time of execution. The passage to
it is fortified with rusty iron guns," They saw the regalia,
" vrith the crown made for the coronation of her late majesty,
[Mary Beatrice of Modena,] and three crowns worn by her
present majesty, Mary II,, with distinct robes for several

' The Clock-house had been demoUshed by the roundhead mob forty years
before, as popish, at the time they demoUshed Charing-cross,

MAEY II.
No comments are made upon the state of the arts by this
writer ; in times of war, even if monarchs have the taste to
wish to reward them, they are usually destitute of funds. The
frightful costume of periwigs, in which the mascuUne portion
of the human race were at this period enveloped, from the age
of three years to thefr graves, greatly injured the pictorial
representation of the human form : portrait and historical
painting then commenced the dull decUne which subsisted
from KneUer to Hogarth, Some few artists obtained repu
tation as painters of animals and flowers: these were all
Flemings or Dutchmen. Queen Mary patronised the cele
brated flower-artist, John Baptist Monnoyer,' who was
brought to England by the duke of Montague, to decorate
the waUs and ceUings of Montague-house -vrith the beautl-
ftU wreaths of flowers that have been the admfration of suc
ceeding generations.^ His most curious work is said to be a
looking-glass at Kensington-palace, which queen Mary em
ployed him to decorate for her. She watched the progress
of this beautiful representation of stUl-Ufe with the greatest
interest. Tradition says it was whoUy painted in her pre
sence. In all probabiUty, the exquisite wreaths of flowers
round looking-glasses at Hampton-Court were painted by
Monnoyer for his royal patroness.
Some of queen Mary's subjects were desfrous that she
should tum her attention to the reformation of female dress.
In her zeal for moral improvement, she had talked of a
sumptuary-law she designed for the purpose of suppressing
the height of cornette caps, the growth of top-knots; and
above aU, the undue exaltation of the fontange, a streaming
ribbon floating from the summit of the high head-dresses,
first introduced by the young duchess de Fontange, the
lovely mistress of Louis XIV. These were the favourite
fashions of the times, and queen Mary's contemporary
affirms, that her majesty was infinitely scandaUzed "that
the proud minxes of the city " and the lower ranks should
wear such modes. Nevertheless, two pictures of her ma-
• Biography of Monnoyer, Grainger, « The British Museum.

MAEY IL 385
jesty, as weU as her wax effigy in Westminster-abbey, are
decorated with the obnoxious fontange. The costume she
projected for her female subjects, (If the periodicals of her day
be correct,)' was the high-crowned hat in which the Dutch
frows and boorines are seen in the pictures of Teniers and
Ostade. This was really an old EngUsh costume; it had
become a general fashion in the reigns of EUzabeth and
James, and was adopted by the fanatics of the Cromwellian
era : it lingered among the old people at the end of the
seventeenth century. The day was gone by when queens
could -vrith impunity impose sumptuary laws, and fulminate
penalties against exaggerated ruffs and unreasonable furbe
lows, regulate the length of rapiers and shoe-ties, the ampli
tude of trains, and prescribe the rank of the wearers of
cloth, satin, velvet, and gold tissue. It was a laughable
mistake, moreover, to impute moral rirtue to a queer-shaped
hat ; and had the queen known any thing of the history of
the past, she would have been aware that the original Intro
ducers of the sanctified steeple-crowns were considered by
their contemporaries^ as presumptuous vessels of wrath, and
were rituperated as much as the " city minxes " who fiaunted
in comettes and top-knots after her gracious example.
From some fragments of correspondence between her
majesty and Rachel lady Russell, it appears that lady was
a frequent appUcant for places and pensions ; but that the
queen perpetuaUy referred her to the king, not daring to
dispose of any thing, even in her o-wn household, -vrithout his
sanction. The king, there is every reason to beUeve, foUowed
the bad fashion brought in from France at the Restoration, of
seUing court places.* This mode Rachel lady RusseU either
could not, or would not, understand : queen Mary was too
diplomatic to enter into full explanation, and the lady sought
other means of making more powerful interest. For this
purpose she applied to archbishop TUlotson, whose answer
¦ London Spy, 1699. ^ See Bulwer's Artificial ChangeUng.
' According to Evelyn, king William ordered Marlborough, on his dismissal,
to seU his court places dfrectly. It is pretty certain ho had never bought them.
VOL. VII. C C

386 Maey ii;
gives some view of the cj[tieen at this period Of her reign,
"On Sunday morning, August 1, 1692," -wrote the arch
bishop to lady RusseU, " I gave yours to the queen, telhng
her that I was afraid it came too late. She said, ' Perhaps
not.' Yesterday, meeting the queen at a christening, she
gave me the inclosed to send to your ladyship, and if I could
but obtain of your severe judgment to wink at my vanity, I
would tell you how this happened. My lady-marchioness
of Winchester being lately delivered of a son, spake to the
queen to stand godmother; and the queen asking 'whom
she thought of for godfathers ?' she said, ' only the earl of
Bath, and whatever others her majesty might please to
name,' They agreed on me, which was a great surprise to
me, but I doubt not a gracious contrivance of her majesty
to let the world know that I have her countenance and sup
port. If it please God to preserve my good master [WU
liam III,] and grant him success, I have nothing to -wish in
this world but that God would grant chUdren to this excel
lent prince, and that I, who am said not to be baptized myself,
may have the honour to baptize a prince of Wales, With
God, to whose wisdom and goodness we must submit every
thing, this Is not impossible. To his protection and blessing
I commend your ladyship and hopeful chUdren. Reading
over what I have written, puts me in mind of one who, when
he was In drink, always went and showed himself to his best
friends; but your ladyship knows how 'to forgive a httle
foUy to one, so entfrely devoted to your service as is,
honoured madam, " Your obUged and humble servant, "Jo. Cant."'
The elation of the archbishop was not vrith drink, accord
ing to his somewhat unclerical jest above quoted; but 'he
had just felt himself in secure possession of the see of
Canterbury, and had not yet experienced the thorns that
lined his archiepiscopal mitre. It Is a curious circumstance,
that. In connexion with this incident, he should name one of
» Birch's Life of TiUotson, cxxi. Works, vol. i.

MAEY IL 387
the great objections urged against his primacy by the non-
juring church, — that he had never been baptized, at least
according to the ritual of the church of England. The fact
remains dubious, for he does not clear the point, since frony
is not assertion. The report that TUlotson had never been
baptized, gave rise to a bitter Latin epigram,' which has thus
been paraphrased by some Jacobite : —
"EpITAPHIUM EcCLESia: ANGLICANiE.
" Hie jacet Fcclesia Anglicana,
Semi mortua, semi sepulta," &c,
" Here lies the widowed AngUcan church,
Hafr buried, half dead, and left in the lurch ;
Oh, sick and sorrowful English church !
You weep and waU and sadly search.
To hide from the mocking enemy.
The utter shame of your misery.
Let not Eome know.
The depths of your woe.
By fanatics bit, from the land of fogs
Defiled and choked by a plague of frogs.
Oh, sorrowing, wretehed AngUcan church !
Speak not oi your Head or Archbishop;
For that schismatic primate and HoUandra- king
Are stiU in want of christening !"
The truth of this epigram aggravates its sting. The religion
of WiUiam III. — that of the Dutch dissenters, is utterly bare
of all rites. He was never baptized in HoUand, and he cer
tainly was not in England. His first compUance with the
rites of the church of England was, by communicating at
the altar of the chapel at St. James's-palace In the winter of
1688, whUe the convention was debating his election to the
throne. His hatred to the English church, and his irreve
rence during divine serrice, have been recorded by Dr.
Hooper, and even by his admirer, Tindal.^
The extraordinary burglary which had been committed
about eighteen months previously. In that dirision of the
royal dweUing-rooms called the queen's side, at the palace
of WhitehaU, had probably some connexion with the order
of councU issued by the queen during her regnal government
in the autumn of 1692. The robbers of royalty were never
' Cole's MSS. ; British Museum.
'¦' Tindal's Continuation ol Rapin.
c c 2

388 MAEY II.
discovered, neither were the perpetrators of the foUovting
sacrilege, which had preceded the daring escalade of the
queen's dressing-room. "Whereas there was a robbery
committed in the coUeglate church of Westminster, the 30th
of December, 1689; two large sUver candlesticks, three suits
of rich velvets fringed -with gold, for the communion-table
and altar, three damask table-cloths, the covers of the great
Bible and Prayer-book." There is no reward offered for the
discovery by the government, but pardon is offered, if vrithin
forty days any accomplice declared his instigators.'
Queen Mary, on the 13th of September, 1692, issued that
remarkable edict by proclamation, offering "40Z. per head
for the apprehension and conriction of any burglar or high
wayman."^ The queen was singularly unfortunate In all
her legislation by proclamation. The above reward, which
speedily obtained the portentous appeUation of "blood-
money," acting in woful conjunction vrith her husband's
enthusiastic recommendations " for the better encourage
ment of distllUng spirits from malt,"^ completed the demo
ralization of her most miserable people. If a premium he
offered for the production of any article, be sure an abundant
supply wUl forthwith ensue; and, to the consternation of
humanity, this " blood- money " speedUy occasioned a terrific
number of conrictions and executions, whUe, at the same
time, the evU the queen meant it to suppress, increased at
the rate of a hundred per cent. The most dreadful effects
of her mistake in legislation* unfortunately continued in
• The dean and chapter offered 1001. reward. Grazette, 1689, Jan.
' Tindal's Continuation of Eapin, p. 93, vol. i.
' The MS. Journals of the House of Lords (Ubrary of E. C. Davey, esq.,
Gfrove, Yoiford) repeatedly mention, in the years 1692 and 1693, the risits of
William III. to the house for this unwise purpose, which, judging, by facts, we
firmly believe the worst of our native sovereigns would have died, rather than
enforce. The king's personal tastes, and his desfre to induce the consumption of
a taxable article, were the causes of this conduct.
* Lord Mohun's History of England from the Peace of Utrecht enters into
the statistics of crime in tids woful century -with rectitude of purpose and power
of abiUty. The date of his era did not enable him to trace the cause of the evil
of blood-money to its origin, but those who vrish to see its results in the course
of a quarter of a century, wiU do weU to read his account of the Fleet and other
prisons in the reign of George I., who is not iu the least accountable for abuses
which existed before hia reign.

MAEY IL 889
active operation for almost a century after her death, and how
long it would have scourged and deteriorated the English is
unknown, if the powerful pens of Gay, Svrift, and Fielding
had not drawn some attention, in the course of years, to the
horrid fraffie carried on by the thief-takers, their informers,
and the gaolers, aU acting under the fatal stimulus of blood-
money. Thus the eril received some check; yet no one
seems to have reasoned on its enormities untU the end of
the last century,' for it -nfas scarcely subdued untU the esta
blishment of the present police. A long retrospect of human
calamity is thus opened up to one terrific error in legislation,
emanating from an order in councU, authorized by Mary II.
in her capacity of queen-regent and queen-regnant. It
must have been carried against her own private conviction
of Its folly and mischievous tendency. The same rigorous
reasoning power which led her to plead earnestly with her
cruel husband to bestow the Irish confiscations for the pur
pose of erecting and endowing schools over that miserable
country, must have brought her to the conclusion that
blood-money, treacherous gaolers, and thief-takers acting in
unison, with a prison discipline formed after the nearest idea
of the dread place of future perdition, were not likely to
cure her people of crime. Mary ought to have made firm
resistance against the edict, and if she found her cabinet
councU contumaclousj she ought to have referred It to par
Uament, where its consequences might have met with the
free discussion of many minds.
Much of the crime and sorrow of the present day, and,
indeed, the greatest national misfortune that ever befeU this
country, originated from the example given by WiUiam III.
and his Dutch courtiers as imbibers of ardent spirits. In
fact, the laws of England, from an early period, sternly
prohibited the conversion of malt into alcohol, excepting a
small portion for medicinal purposes.^ Queen Elizabeth (and
the act, it is said, originated from her own vfrtue of tem-
• Colquhoun on Crime.
' Stowe's London. Statutes at Large; British Museum. The law is in the
droUest Saxon EngUsh, appearing among the Norman-French law dialect.

390 MAEY II.
perance) strictly enforced this statute, and treated the iii.
fringement of It as a moral dereliction ; and those were the
times when breaking laws made for the health and happiness
of the people were not risited by fines, which were easily
spared from fraudulent Mammon profits, but by personal
infliction on the delinquents. The consummation of all
injury to the people, was the encouragement that king Wil
liam III. was pleased to give to the newly-born manufac
tories of spfrituous liquors. Strange it is, after noting such
stringent laws against converting food -into "fire-water,"
that a sovereign of Great Britain could come repeatedly to
his senate for the purpose of earnestly recommending to
legislators its encouragement ; yet this respectable request of
royalty stares the reader in the face in manuscript journals
of parliament.' What would have been said of James L, if,
in addition to his worst fault, that of intemperance, he had
pursued a similar course of proceeding ?
The alteration of the -vrise restrictive law of EUzabeth was
not done In Ignorance; more than one noted literary character
belonging to church or law remonstrated. These are the
words of Whiston : — " An act of parUament has abrogated a
very good law for discouraging the poor from drinking gin ;
nay, they have In reality encouraged them to drunkenness,
and to the murder of themselves by such drinking. Judge
Hale earnestly supported the restrictive law, and opposed its
abrogation, declaring that mUUons of persons would kill
themselves by these fatal Uquors." The prediction of the
legal sage has indeed been fearfuUy verified, o-wing to the
acts of this unpaternal reign.^ It Is, perhaps, the most
urgent duty of a regal biographer to trace the effects of laws
emanating from the sovereign In person, — orders of coimcil,
for Instance, where a monarch hears and even partakes in
the discussion, and perforce must be instrumental towards
the accompUshment of any enactment. Had Mary made so
Uttle progress in the high science of statistical wisdom as
' MS. Journals of the House of Lords, iu the library of E. C. Davey, esq.,
Brove, Yoxford. * Whiston's Auto-biography,

MAEY II. 391
not to trace the cause she Instituted to its future tremen
dous effects?' Yet her letters prove that her intellect was
briUiant. Such were the fruits of the enactment of an unpaternal
government, where men were looked upon as Ukely to afford
" food for powder " as probable recruits, rather than worthy
members of society. What -vrith the temptations of the
newly permitted gin-shops; the temptations of the thief-
takers, (themselves stimulated by rewards for blood) ; what
with the mental bewilderment produced by the wrangUng of
polemic-preachers on the " sinful nature of good works," and
the angry jealousy of the revolutionary government regard
ing the tnfiuence of the reformed catholic church on the
minds of the poor, the populacei of England, wheresoever
they were congregated in towns, were steeped to the very lips
in guilt and misery. Executions under the reward-conrictlon
system, which soon was supported by parUament, often
amounted to forty rictims per month for London only ; and .
when the most dreadful revelations took place of gangs of
miscreants congregated for the purposes of obtaining the
blood-rewards by the denouncement of innocent persons,
Uberal as the law was in dispensation of death, no commen
surate punishment whatsoever was found on the statute-book
for those who had been murderers by wholesale by false
' The reward known as 'blood-money,' gave rise to an organized crew of
human fiends caUed thief-takers : the plan foUowed by these -vUlains was, for one
of them, under the semblance of a professional robber, to entice two persons to
join him in robbing one of his confederates ; which confederate, taking care that
the instigator should escape, apprehended the two dupes, and having his evidence
supported by another of the gang who had managed to purchase some of the
property of which the party in the plot had been robbed, found aU in train for
successfiil conviction of the two tempted WTetohes, whose death secured the pay
ment of the queen's reward. "When they received this horrid donation, the
confederates divided the spoil ,at an entertainment, which went among the asso
ciation by the significant name of " the blood-feast." Fearful it is to relate that,
emboldened by the prosperous working of this trade, the thiei-takers often dis
pensed with the dangerous machinery of drawing in dupes, and boldly swore
. away the Uves of totally innocent people, who were the victims of this dreadful
confederacy without the sUghtest participation in any robbery. A captain of one
of these gangs, caUed Jonathan Wild, when the measure of his inquity was fiiU,
put in a paper at his trial stating his good services, as he had been rewarded lor
the hanging of sixty-seven highwaymen and returned oon/eicts! — Knight's
London, Maitland's London, and Colquhoun on Crime,

392 MAEY II.
witness. As if to make the matter worse, the cruel legisla-
ture put the traffickers in human life in the piUory, where
they were atrociously immolated by the mob. Proper repro
bation cannot be given to "vricked laws that make crime pro
fitable to a vast number of persons, without pointing out the
frightful duration of such laws. Notwithstanding many ap
palling pubUc exposures of the murderous traffic of false "wit
nesses from the time when Mary II. instituted the blood
rewards, her grievous system lasted tiU the recent days of
1816.' Many dissertations have been written on these direful
proceedings, aU replete vrith fearful interest ; yet the task of
tracing up the source of sorrow to her cruel enactments has
never entered the idea of statistic "writers. But to mark the
awful point of the year, the hour, and the day when the woe
first arose, is an act of historical justice. Much of the
sorrow and crime of our present era may be traced to the
calamitous acts of legislation by which WilUam III, encou
raged gin distiUIng, and his queen instituted blood-money,^
To court popularity with the EngUsh, king WiUiam, more
over, did aU in his power to depress the industry of the
» The whole system was swept away in 1816, according to Knight's London,
p. 233, vol. iv. The evidence of the good poUceman, Townshend, is worth read
ing on this head. Some traces of the dfreful system stUl work woe in our distant
convict colonies. See the works of captain Maconochie.
¦¦¦ Captain Maconochie, whose late government of Norfolk Island has drawn so
much pubUc attention, thus expresses himself in his first work on "Penal
Science," as he aptly calls that knowledge which is best worthy of the attention
of a paternal legislature. "When speaking of one of his measures, which he found
most effectual in the cure of crime, be says, " It wUl give each man a dfrect con
cern in the good conduct of his feUows, a highly advantageous cfrcumstance,
, associating aU with the government in the maintenance of discipUne instead of,
as now too frequently occurs, an interest in encouraging, and subsequently
revealing the crimes of others, — a most detestable feature in the present
system." Thus it seems that the mistakes or perversities of the edict emanating
from the government of Mary II. and her cabinet, Sept. 13, 1692, are still
bringing forth bad fruit. The following observations, quoted by the same work,
were probably written in iUustration of this fatal act of councU : " To set a price
on the head of a criminal, or otherwise on a great scale to reward the informa
tion of accompUces, is the strongest proof of a weak or unwise government.
Such an edict confounds the ideas of vfrtue aftd moraUty, at all times too waver
ing in the mind of man. It encourages treachery, and to prevent one crime,
gives birth to a thousand. Such are the expedients of weak and ignorant
, nations, whose laws are like temporary repafrs to a tottering fabric." — ^Austra-
liana, p. 73, by Captain Macanochie,B.N., £.H.

MAEY II. 393
Irish, and by that means ruined a number of the most
worthy of that portion of his subjects. " I shaU," said he,
in his speech to the EngUsh commons on the 21st of
July, 1698, "do all that in me Ues to discourage the
wooUen manufactm-es of Ireland." ' Alas, poor Ireland !
crushed in her rirtuous efforts for employing her starring
population by the unpaternal foreigner who had been en
trusted with the sovereignty of the British empire, dearly
and deeply have her children cause to rue the success of
WiUiam's ruthless determination to inflict erils, for which
wiser and better rulers are anxiously seeking to proride
remedies. King WiUiam returned to England, September the 29th,
haring, as usual, lost a bloody and hard-contested battle,
and two or three towns in Flanders, the earth of which
coimtry was in his reign literally saturated "vrith British
blood. The last battle this year was that of Steinkirk,
only now remembered on account of an obsolete fashion,
which prevaUed as much in the capital of the EngUsh as
in that of the rictorious French. One of the young princes
of the blood in the French army tied his Mechlin-lace cravat
in a hurry carelessly round his neck Uke a scarf, vrith long
ends. This mode became universal, and king WilUam,
although vanquished, wore it tUl his dying day. It mattered
Uttle who lost, or who won in Flanders ; a certain quantity
of human blood was shed very formaUy on that fighting
ground every campaign by the regimental sovereigns WUUam
and Louis, untU the wealth of both thefr states was ex
hausted. The great body of the people in each country were
wofuUy and miserably taxed to sustain the warUke game,
realizing the clever observation of Louis, when discussing the
termination of the war : " Ah 1" said he, " the last guinea
wUl carry the rictory." The fleets of England would have
been quite sufficient for the defence of this country, but they
were miserably neglected, although it seemed more natural
for a Dutchman to understand and practise marine warfare.
1 Dr. Playfafr's FamUy Antiquities; Ireland.

394 MAEY IL
Directiy the king arrived, his brother-in-law, the prince
George of Denmark, sent him, in the phraseology of the
day, 'a compUment,' which was, in truth, Uttle otherwise
than a complaint of the queen's behariour, saying, "that
his "wife and himself, haring had the misfortune to receive
many public marks of her majesty's displeasure, therefore)
he did not know whether it were proper for him to wait on
his majesty as usual." ' Neither the king nor the queen
took other notice of this message than sending an order to
Dr, Birch, the clergyman of the newly-buUt church of St.
James's, which was attended by the princess Anne, for-,
bidding him from haring the text placed in her pew on
her cushion. The doctor was a particular partisan of the
princess Anne, and refused to deprive her of such a trifliag
mark of distinction without he had a "written order for that
purpose. Thefr majesties decUned sending such a docu-.
ment, and the princess, thanks to the affection of Dr.
Birch, remained every Sunday in triumphant possession,
of her text at St, James's church. Dr. Hooper had set
the example of resisting all attempts to deprive the princess
of the distinctions of her rank, when she attended dirine
serrice in the west of England.
Not a vestige at present remains of the once-magnificent
mansion where the princess Anne retfred from the wrath
of her sister and her sister's spouse, and kept her httle .
court apart when banished by them from the court of
England. Berkeley-house was in the neighbourhood of
Berkeley-square, to which it gave its name. It has long ago
been destroyed by fire. In ancient times there was a farm
on this place, abutting on Hyde-park, kno"wn by the pretty
pastoral name of Hay-hUl Farm, noted in history as the spot
where the severest struggle took place in the insurrection led
by Wyatt, and where his head was set up on a pole after his
execution. This farm fell into the possession of lord John
Berkeley, who built on it a stately mansion, and laid out
the Hay-hill Farm in ornamental grounds pertaining to it.
» Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p, 103.

MAEY IL 395
Berkeley-house is said to have been, in the days of queen
Mary, the last house in PiccadUly.'
The return of king WiUiam in safety was celebrated by a
thanksgiring on the 10th of November, and by a grand civic
dinner at GuildhaU, which their majesties attended in per
son., The enormous taxes necessary to be raised to meet
the expenses of the next Flanders campaign, after all the
disastrous losses king WilUam had sustained, made atten
tion to the citizens requisite. The queen Ukewise dined in
state with the king at the new armoury at the Tower, since
destroyed by fire. It had been commenced by her father.
A splendid banquet was laid out in the great room, then con
sidered the largest in Europe. The royal pafr were waited
upon by the master-architects and their workmen in masonic
costume, "with white aprons and gloves.^
The Jacobite war was vfrtuaUy concluded ; an efficient na"vy,
appointed and supplied by honest ministers, would have been
alone sufficient to guard the coasts of Great Britain from
insult and to protect commerce. Very far was the intention
of king WiUiam from pursuing a Une of poUcy consistent
with the vital interests of England. His object was to obtain
' Evelyn says, in August 1672, " I dined with lord John Berkeley in his new
house, or rather palace, for I am assured it cost him 30,000Z. It is very weU
buflt, and has many noble rooms, but they are not convenient, consisting but of
one corps de logis vrithout closets, [dressing or retiring room]. The stafrcase is
of cedar, the furniture is princely, the Htehen and stables Ul-placed, and the cor
ridor even worse, having no report to the wings they join to. For the rest, the
fore-court is noble, so are the stables, and above all the gardens, which are in
comparable, by reason of the inequaUty of the ground, and the pretty piscina."
This, in plain English, is a fishpond, which has probably been long filled up ; but
the inequaUty of the ground stUl makes Berkeley-square and its neighbourhood
the most picturesque spot in the unpicturesque beau-monde of our metropoUs.
A terrace extended along the ridge of the hiU. " The hoUy hedges on that
terrace," continues Evelyn, "I advised the planting of; the porticoes are in
imitation of a house described by PaUadio, the very worst in the book, though
my good friend, Mr. Hugh May, was the architect." Such were the now-
departed glories of Berkeley-house. The site of its grounds and dependencies
extended from Devonshire-house to Curzon-street, and the Hay-hUl Farm is to
be traced in the present appeUations of the adjacent streets, as HUl-street, Farm-
rtreet, besides the historical street of Hay-hUl, which were aU appertaining to
the old faftn, and were the grounds of the mansion which gave name to the pre
sent Berkeley-square. ' Toone's Chronological History.

396 MAEY II.
funds to maintain a gr^at army in Flanders, where every year
he lost a sharply contested battle, where the enormous sums
raised by unprecedented taxation in England were expended,
and never cfrculated back again, — a calamity which is, per
haps a just punishment on insular kingdoms maintaining
foreign armies. The feudal laws, "vrith thefr forty days'
military serrice, had prorided, not "without some statistic
wisdom, against such injurious effects on national prosperity.
The queen's attention to business during her regencies,
and her natural feelings as an Englishwoman, might have
led her to protect the interests of her country; she was,
notvrithstanding, zealous in her exertions to appropriate all
she could raise by taxation to the maintenance of that foreign
warfare which was the sole passion of her husband's Ufe.
When WilUam was in England, she seemed whoUy occupied
in needle-work and knotting. Her panegyrists mention
that she was oftener seen "with a skein of thread about her
neck, than attending to affairs of state. Sorry praise is this
for a queen-regnant ; yet it had the good effect of inducing
harmless employment among the ladies of her court, and, of
course, conduced to the encouragement of industry among
her female subjects of the imitative middle classes. " Her
majesty," says a contemporary,' " did not disdain to busy
her royal hands with making of fringes, or knotting, as it
was then called. She was soon imitated, not only by her
maids of honour, but by all ladies of distinction throughout
the kingdom, and so fashionable was labour of a sudden
grown, that not only assembly-rooms and risiting [dravring]
rooms, but the streets, the roads, — nay, the very playhouses
were "vritnesses of their pretty Industry. It was considered
a wonder that the churches escaped." The wonder was the
greater, because the Dutch and German ladles of the era
always took thefr knitting to sermons. It were pity that
queen Mary, when she made this handicraft the rage, had
not introduced the construction of something useful or
beautiful. Some of the knotted fringe made after the royal
' Tindal's Continuation.

MAEY li. 397
example surrives to the present day, in a vast old Japan
chest well kno"wn to the author. It is made of white flax
thread, and is as ugly, heavy, and tasteless an article as can
be Imagined. The contemporary who relates the cfrcum
stance, breaks into enthusiastic encomiums on this " pretty
industry," and Ukewise informs us that her majesty, "resolv
ing as much as in her lay to strike at the very root of rice
and idleness, encouraged the setting up of a linen manufac
ture, in which many thousands of poor people were em
ployed,'" It would have been only just to the memory of
Mary II, if the place and particulars of this right royal
work had been pointed out, in order that she might receive
equal credit with her great ancestress, queen PhiUppa. But
Mary II, must have larished her kindness " on many thou
sands of most ungrateful linen weavers," who have forgotten
it in a very short time.
Those who have read queen Mary's letters, and noticed
her almost agonizing struggle to obtain command of her
countenance, wUl have a clue to her devotion to the useless
industry of knotting fringe ; the eyes that were fixed on the
shuttle, could not betray the Inward emotions of the soul to
watchful bystanders. The sedulous attention of the queen
to the production of "thread fringe" is satirized In the
verses of sfr Charles Sedley, who combines In the little poem
a much severer sarcasm on the expensive and disastrous
Flemish campaigns of her husband,
" Oh, happy people, ye must thrive,
"While thus the royal pafr does strive
Both to advance your glory ;
"WhUe he by his valour conquers France,
She manufactures does advance.
And makes thread fringes for ye.
Blest we, who from such queens are freed,"
"Who, by vain superstition led.
Are always teUing beads ;
But here's a queen now, thanks to God,
Who, when she rides in coach abroad.
Is always knotting threads.
' Tindal's Continuation, p. 66.
'- Catharine of Braganza and Mary Beatrice of Modena. These Unes were, it
is probable, written just after queen Catharine returned to Portugal.

398 MAEY IL
Then haste, victorious Nassau, haste.
And when thy summer show is past.
Let aU thy trumpets sound ;
The fringe that this campaign has wrought.
Though it cost the nation but a groat.
Thy conquests wUl surround,"
It is easy to gather from these lines, and from some others
on the wars of William III., that the "vritty sir Charles
Sedley was no friend to the Dutch hero. He celebrated
liis return to England, in 1792, with another epigram: —
" The author, sure, must take great pmnSj
"Who fairly writes the story.
In which of these two last campaigns.
Was gained the greatest glory.
For while he marched on to fight.
Like hero notliing fearing,
Namur was taken in his sight.
And Mons -within his hearing,''
Sir Charles Sedley was at this period one of the courtiers
at Berkeley-house; he was no Jacobite, for he was full of
indignation at the insult offered to his honour by James II.'s
seduction of his daughter. James II. had, in the opinion
of the outraged gentleman, made his wrong still more noto
rious, by creating Catharine Sedley countess of Dorchester.
Sir Charles Sedley became one of the most earnest pro
moters of the Revolution ; and after queen Mary was on the
throne, he said, " I have now returned the obUgation I owed
to king James. He made my daughter a countess; I have
helped to make his daughter a queen."
Queen Mary seemed destined to be the object of the re
partees of the Sedley family. This countess of Dorchester,
who appears to have been a lady of the bedchamber at the
Revolution, on its successful completion had the audacity
to come to court, and present herself before the queen when
she held her first drawing-room. Her majesty turned away
her head, as if offended at her intrusion, on which the bold
woman exclaimed, — "Why so haughty, madam? I have
not sinned more notoriously in breaking the seventh com
mandment with your father, than you have done In breaking
the fifth against him." Lady Dorchester had just been

MAEY II. 399
conceriied in the Jacobjte plot of Preston and Ashton, on
account of which the queen had shed some blood, and had
kept her elder uncle in prison. Lady Dorchester contrived
to escape aU bad consequences, and even dared defy her
majesty, whose displeasure was merely occasioned by the
political sins of the bold woman, for king WUliam obliged
her not olUy to receive, but to live with a woman as noto
riously eril. The queen, for some reason best kno-wn to
herself, suffered, lady Dorchester to intrude her speeches
upon her regarding matters of taste. Her majesty -wished to
rival her uncle's Lely room of beauties at Hampton-Court ;
but her artist, KneUer, who could paint a plain man in an
ugly wig, or a masciiUne woman In whalebone armour and
a cornette cap, with startling verity, was no hand at a
beauty. The costume was tasteless, the ladies were grim,
the artist tiuthful; consequently, queen Mary's "beauty-
room " was a failure throughout. The duchess of Somerset,
-tchose ardent ringlets are really marvels of art, is absolutely
the belle of the coUection. Worse results ensued than the
perpetrating of a score of plain portraits. There are always
handsome women at an English court, and the real beauties
were almost in a state of insurrection, because the queen
had given the palm of loveliness to her frights. The queen
was surprised at her sudden unpopularity with the female
nobUity, and lady Dorchester spoke her oracular opinion
on the measure : " Madam," she said, " were his majesty
to order portraits of aU the clever men in his dominions,
vvould not the rest consider themselves treated as block
heads?"' At the same Christmas occur some notices illustrative
of Anne's residence at Berkeley-house, in a witty address
to the beUman of St. James's, -written by some Jacobite,
concerning a series of squibs, casting ridicule on the frequent
arrests of her subjects, which were ordered by Mary II.
during the years of Anne's retfrement from court.
' Cole MSS., Brit. Mus. There is the same incident, with Uttle variation, in
the Tour of a German Artist in England, vol. i. p. 95.

400 MAEY II.
"THE Belkkait oe Piccadillt's Veeses to the Peinoess
Anne oe Denmabk.'
" Welcome, great princess ! to this lowly place,
"Where injured loyalty must hide its face ;
Your praise each day by every man is sung.
And in the night by me shall here be rung.
God bless our queen ! and yet I may, moreover.
Own you our queen in Berkeley- street and Dover :
May your great prince and you Uve numerous years !
This is the subject of our loyal prayers."
Appended to these verses is the foUowing droll parody on
queen Mary's orders in council, during her long suspension
of the habeas corpus act : " The earl of Nottingham's orders
to Mr. Dives, late clerk of the councU, were as foUows : Ye
are to take a messenger, and to find out the dweUIng-house
of the beUman of PiccadlUy; and when you meet -vrith him,
search his fur cap, his night-cap, and above aU his beU, and
whatever verses you find upon him you are to bring to me.
You are privately to acquaint him, if he never heard of it,
"vrith the reasons of her majesty's displeasure vrith the prin
cess, of which I herevrith give you an account in vrriting.
Ye are to charge him, on pain of forfeiture of his employ
ment, that he do not proceed to sing such verses about
those streets without our Ucence. Ye are to charge him not
to pay the ceremony to the princess, in his night-walk, as
he usuaUy does to the rest of thefr majesties' subjects that
are not under thefr majesties' displeasure. Ye are to charge
him to take care of thieves and robbers, but to waive that
part of his duty to the princess; for since her guards are
taken off, she is neither to be regarded by day, or guarded
by night. Any one is to rob her who may choose to be at
the trouble. Ye are to acquaint him that his majesty's dis
pleasure is so great against the princess, that his government
designs to stop her revenues, and starve her, as well as many
other Jacobites, into humble submission. Ye are to go from
him to Dr. Bfrch, and charge him to introduce no cere
monies of bovving, as he wiU answer to his grace of Lambeth,
(it being contrary to his [archbishop TiUotson's] education).
• CoUection of popular Songs, for tho carl of Oxford; Lansdovmo Papers.

MAEY II. 401
Lastly, you are to acquaint both the bellman and the parson
that her majesty expects exact compUance, as a mark of
thefr duty; but as for waits, fiddlers, and others, her orders
are sent to KiUigrew about them." ' There are one or two
points m this jeu-d'esprit that have, reference to cfrcum
stances on which this biography has preriously dwelt.
"That the princess is neither to be regarded by day, or
guarded by night," and "that any one may rob her,"
alludes to the highway robbery, either real or pretended,
she had suffered the preceding spring, when travelling from
London to Sion, after the maUce of her brother-in-law had
deprived her of her guards. And as for the evU report at
Lambeth, to be made of Dr. Bfrch for his bo-wings at St.
James's, he is threatened vrith the anger of Dr. TUlotson,
because that archbishop, when a presbyterian, had not been
used to any church ceremonial.
A settled, but more quiet hostility was now estabUshed
between the royal sisters during the remainder of queen
Mary's Ufe. The princess Anne, divested of every mark of
her royal rank, continued to Uve at Berkeley-house, where
she and her favourite amused themselves -vrith superintend
ing their nurseries, playing at cards, and talking treason
against queen Mary and ' her Dutch Caliban,' as they called
the hero of Nassau. Lady Marlborough wrote aU the news
she could glean to the court of St. Germains, where her
sister, lady Tyrconnel, the once-beautiful Frances Jennings,
was resident. Lady Tyrconnel gossiped back aU the Intel
Ugence she could gather at the exUed court. The letters of
Marlborough himself were more actively and deliberately
mischievous. He sent word to the exUed king aU the pro
fessional information he could betray. But, in most In
stances, James IL, in utter distrust of his falsehood, refused
to act on his inteUigence. He weU knew that the exaltation
of his grandson, the young diike of Gloucester, and not the
* Harley's CoUections, Lansdowne Papers, p. 73, No. 852. The date given
here is 16^, but this must be an error of the transcriber, since Anne herself
distinctly points out the day, in 1692, when she first treated for that residence,
nor were the differences between the royal sisters pubUc in 1690.
VOL. Vll. D D

402 MAEY II.
restoration of the prince of Wales, was the object of the
party at Berkeley -house.
England was once more placed under the regnal sway of
the queen. In March 1693. As the king meant to embark
for Holland from Margate, he requested her majesty to bear
him company to the coast. When they arrived at Margate,
the wind turned contiary, on which the king chose to wait
at Canterbury tUl it was fafr. The queen, who meant to
have returned that night to London, resolved to go there
with him ; " for," adds the Hooper manuscript, " the king's
request was too high a favour to be refused. Though her
majesty had no other attendance than lady Derby and Mrs.
Compton, who were in the coach with her and the king, the
royal party drove to the largest house in the city. The
mansion was o-wned," says our authority,' "by a lady of
great birth and equal merit, but by no means an admfrer
of the king. She had received notice of the approach of
the king and queen, and she not only fied from her house,
but locked up or carried off every possible convenience there.
AU was wanting that could make the house habitable.
Queen Mary said to her rice-chamberlain, who was one of
the representatives of Canterbury in parUament, ' Look
about anywhere for a house, for I must remove from this to
pass the night.' Mr. Sayers told her majesty, that he be
lieved ' the deanery was the next largest house in Canter
bury.' — ' Oh,' said the queen, ' that is Dr. Hooper's. Why
did not I think of it before ? I wUl go there,' " Her
majesty actuaUy arrived at the deanery before fires could
be Ughted, or the least preparation made for her; but
there she stayed some days, and passed the Sunday at Can
terbury after the king had saUed from Margate, Dean
Hooper was then at his bring of Lambeth, and did not
hear that her majesty had been at his house untU it was too
late to go down.
The queen returned to London, and dfrectly she arrived
' Hooper MS., printed in Trevor's WiUiam IIL, vol. U. p. 474. There is no
date, but as other authors maintain the king was baffled by the wind, and
returned from Margate this spring, it was probably 1693.

MAEY II. 403
dean Hooper waited on her, to excuse himself for not being
at the deanery to entertain her majesty, who thus gave him
an account of her sojourn under his roof: "It was impos
sible," she said, " that you should know I was there. Yours
Is the cleanest house I ever was in ; and there is a good old
woman there, -vrith whom I had a great deal of discourse.
The people were very soUcitous to see me ; but there grew
a great walnut-tree before the -windows, which were, besides,
so high, that I could not gratify them." This Uttle trait
casts some Ught on Mary's incUnations. Her majesty con
tinued the description of her sojourn at the deanery : " I
went to Canterbury cathedral in the morning, and heard an
exceUent sermon from Dr. Battely, (once chaplain to arch
bishop Sancroft). In the afternoon I went to a parish
church, where I heard a very good sermon by Dr. Cook ;
but," added the queen, " I thought myself in a Dutch
church, for the people stood upon the communion-table to
look at me." ' Dean Hooper told the queen " that she had
condemned the walnut-tree and the vrindows at the dean
ery," for her majesty intimated " that she should come
again to Canterbury on the like occasion." She never did
so; yet dean Hooper gave orders to sash the antique -win
dows, and cut down the walnut-tree. " Some Uttle time
after the risit of queen Mary to the deanery at Canterbury,
the queen sent for dean Hooper again, and led him to her
dressing-room, where she showed him some pieces of sUver
stuffs and purple-flowered velvets. These, her majesty told
him, 'if he approved,' she would give to Canterbury ca
thedral, as she observed the furniture to be dfrty; but as
there was not enough of the figured velvet, she had sent to
HoUand to match it,' The queen, when aU was ready,
despatched to the cathedral a page of her backstafrs, who
always arranged matters regarding her gifts, vrith the rich
velvets. The altar at the cathedral was furnished -with the
figured velvet, and a breadth of the gold stuff, flowered
¦with sUver, let in. The archbishop's throne was covered
» Hooper MS., vol. U. p. 476.
n D 2

404 MAEY II.
with plain velvet : the fringe for the whole was a rufted one
of gold, silver, and purple ; it alone cost the queen 500/,"'
The queen was considered as the protectress of public
morals, which were, indeed, at the lowest ebb. In that
capacity she exerted herself to suppress an offensive exhi..
bitlon at Southwark fair, representing the great earth
quake which subverted Port Royal, in Jamaica,^ — a con
vulsion of nature which was alarmingly felt all over the
continent of Europe, and even in London, It had, vrithalj
nearly cost king WUliam his life,' he being then in his
camp at Flanders at dinner in an old deserted house, which
shook fearfully before his majesty could be induced to rise
and quit it, and fell dfrectly he issued from under its roof.
Yet queen Mary, in her attempted reforms among the lower
classes, was far from successful. The reason was, as Dr.
Johnson observes, " she was not consistent, because she
was a frequenter of the theatre of that day, and a vritness
of Its horrible profaneness."'' Certain it is, that " the idle
and vicious mock-show of the earthquake," as it Is called by
a contemporary,^ " was not replete -vrith a thousandth part
of the rice coolly exhibited in the atrocious comedies of her
era, of which she was the constant and delighted spectatress.
She never wilUngly omitted being present at the represen
tation of the Old Bachelor, of Congreve, a preference which
obtained for her the honour of an elegy from the pen of
that dramatist at her death," But the author whom her
majesty honoured with her especial patronage, was an iU-
llving and loathsome person, named Thomas ShadweU, a
suborner, deep In the iniquities of Gates's plot. The writ
ings of this man were at once foul and talentiess; his
memory only exists by the fact, that queen Mary deprived
Dryden of the laureateship and bestowed it on Thomas
ShadweU. She did worse ; she went to see the plays of this
• Hooper MS., vol. ii. p. 476.
= An earthquake sank the town of Port Eoyal, in Jamaica, and destroyed 3000
persons, Sep. 8, 1602.— Evelyn, Toone, &c. The shook was felt in England,
' Life of Edmund Calamy.
* Johnson's Lives of the Poets. » Evelyn,

MAEY II. 405
odious author, and in most of them there was a passage of
adulation prepared for her. Thus, in the Volunteers, or
the Stockjobbers, one of the female characters observes,
" Would you have me set my heart on one who may be lost
in every rencontre?" She is answered by her lover, who
offers the example of queen Mary, in these words, " Does
not our royal mistress do the same, and bear it -vrith a
princely magnanimity? She and our country have the
greatest stake in Europe, She is to be reverenced and
admfred; but hard it is to imitate so glorious an example,
and, methinks, a private lady may be happier," This is,
perhaps, the only passage which can be quoted out of the
last production of Mary's laureate. It is useless to aver
that the taste of her era was gross, for was it not her duty
to lead that taste, and to reform what was so deeply ob
jectionable in it? Why could she not have "put down"
the ricious plays of ShadweU as well as the poor puppet-
show at Southwark fafr, instead of encouraging them by
her royal presence? AU the -writers of her age did not
agree with her in this detestable predilection. Collier,
a nonjuring divine, who had been deprived of his benefice
at the same time that the queen ejected archbishop Sancroft,
represented to his country, in a weU-known essay, the in
famy into which the drama had fallen, and its bad effect on
the happiness of the community. In time his moral lessons
were heeded, but not by queen Mary, for ColUer was "not
among her friends."
The same year, the queen ordered for her dramatic regale
the Double Dealer, one of Congreve's plays. The actor
Kynaston, who had figured on the theatre in her majesty's
youthful days, was now to perform before her as "lord
Touchwood." He was taken Ul, and the notorious CoUey
Cibber, then a stage-struck youth, who had only distin
guished himself by his awkwardness, was permitted to per
form the part in the presence of royalty. Her majesty
was received vrith a new prologue, written by Congreve, and
spoken by Mrs. Barry ; two Unes of it are preserved : —

406 MAEY n.
"But never were in Eome or Athens seen.
So fafr a circle and so bright a queen."'
WiUiam III. usuaUy bears the blame of persecuting Drydpn,
and encouraging ShadweU; but the deed was done in his
absence, and he cannot be accountable for the tasteless pre
ference, since it would be very difficult to prove that he ever
read an English book. The fact that ShadweU had been a
tool of Gates in his plot, was probably the cause of his
favour in the eyes of the Dutch monarch, since the only
Uterary persons he ever patronised were those implicated
with that perjurer, and the pensions and gifts bestowed on
them were apparently more from necessity than choice.
WiUiam and Mary were, like all monarchs whose resources
are consumed by foreign warfare, poor and parsimonious:
difficult would it be to discover any disbursement to a Ute
rary person, with the exception of ShadweU, their most
loathsome laureate. This person Ukewise received an ap
pointment as one of thefr historiographers. On what he
founded his claims to be considered an historian we have
not discovered, but he wrote, besides his unseemly comedies,
a long panegyric in rhyme on the perfections of queen
Mary, and another on the success of king WiUiam in estab
lishing the revolution in 1688.
Dryden felt himself more aggrieved at the transfer of Ms
laurel to so dishonourable a brow as that of ShadweU, than
at the loss of his pension : he attributed both misfortunes
to the queen's hostility. He was old, sick, and poor, and de
pendent on bis pen for bread ; yet the queen condescended
to act as his personal enemy, by suborning -writers to attack
his dramatic works. "About a fortnight ago," so wrote
the unfortunate author to his publisher, Jacob Tonson,' "I
had an intimation from a friendly letter, that one of the
secretaries (I suppose Trenchard) had informed the queen
' CoUey Cibber, who relates this anecdote in his Apology, says expressly, " the
queen came and was received." He does not mention that the " choir drama-
tique " were transferred to Whitehall or St. James's, therefore it must be con
cluded that she went to the pubUc playhouse, called tho Queen's, in Dorset Gardens,
Fleet-street. — ^Apology of Colley Cibber, BeUchambers' edition, pp. 195, 196,
« Sfr Walter Scott's Life of Dryden,

MAEY IL 407
that I had abused her government, — these were the words
in the epistle to lord Radcliffe ; and that thereupon she had
commanded her historiographer, Rymer, to faU upon my
plays, which he assures me he is now dolng,'^ A more
serious risltatlon of her majesty's displeasure awaited poor
Dryden, when, in the time of sickness and destitution, his
play of Cleomenes, the Spartan Hero, was interdicted, on
account of its alleged Jacobite tendency. Had he written
on the subject of Agis, we may Imagine that the daughter
of James II, might have dreaded the effects of an English
audience being led to form comparisons between her conduct
and that of the dirine Chelidonis; but Cleomenes bears little
reference to the relative situations of the parties, save that
Cleomenes with his faithful consort are in exile, and sup-
phants to a foreign power for aid In thefr reverse of for
tunes to deUver Sparta from a foreign yoke. Queen Mary,
however, who then exercised the whole functions of the
crown in the absence of WiUiam, commanded the lord cham
berlain to prohibit the representation of the play, Dryden
addressed an agonizing appeal to the queen's maternal uncle,
the earl of Rochester. The daughters of this literary noble
man, who were the first-cousins of her majesty, and great
admfrer s of Dryden' s genius, Ukevrise pleaded for him very
earnestly. The queen had taken these young ladies Into
favour since their father had been Induced to acknowledge
her title, and thus urged, her majesty took off her interdict,
Cleomenes was performed, but a very strong party was raised
against it by her majesty's court; and, though the purest of
aU Dryden's productions, it scarcely lived out the nine nights
which were then requisite to make a play profitable to a
dramatic poet. On queen Mary's side. It has been urged
that Dryden had preriously provoked her by his prologue to
his former play of the Prophetess, In which he had ventured
to introduce some sarcastic allusions to the female regency,
the war in Ireland, and to reflect on the Revolution itself.
All this had given great ofience to Mary, and she had
forbidden its repetition.

408 MAEY ir.
The queen, haring a mind one afternoon to be entertamed
with music, sent for the illustrious Henry PurceU and the
rev. Mr. GostUng, belonging to the chapel-royal; also for
Mrs. ArabeUa Hunt, who had a fine voice, and was likewise
celebrated as a lutanist. The vocaUsts sung several melodies
by PurceU, whUe that great composer accompanied them on
the harpsichord ; but queen Mary became weary of PurceU's
exalted style, and before his face inqufred if Arabella Hunt
could sing the old Scotch ballad of
" Cold and raw the wind doth blaw.''
The lady sang it to her lute ; the mightiest composer that
England ever boasted sitting, meantime, unemployed at his
instrument, not a Uttle mortified at the queen's preference
of a baUad, the words of which might not only be considered
vulgar, but something worse. Supposing, however, that it
was the air with which her majesty was so much pleased,
PurceU adapted it to her next bfrthday ode, sung by Mr,
GostUng. The queen had been accustomed to hear Mr,
Gostling's performance in her earUer days, when he used
to join in duets -vrith her royal uncle Charles II,, who sang
the tenor, while her unfortunate father, then the gay and
gaUant duke of York, accompanied them on the guitar.
PurceU's feeUngs, it seems, were much wounded by the
queen's manner when she silenced his compositions; the
incident was never forgotten by him : in consequence it has
been Interwoven with the history of his science,'
As the young duke of Gloucester Uved at Campden-house,
he was, when his royal aunt kept court at Kensington, taken
daUy there : her majesty usually gave him audience whilst
superintending the progress of her workmen, who were
fitting up and finishing the interior of the palace. The
infant duke Ukevrise took much interest in watching these
proceedings, and usuaUy made up his mind to become a
carpenter, a smith, or a painter, according to the prevalence
of the operations he beheld. The queen seemed fond^ of
• Hawkins' History of Music, Ancient Scoteh Music; Maitland Club,
2 Lewis Jenkins' Life of the Duke of Gloucester.

MAEY II. 409
him, and took pleasure in hearing him prate. She pre
sented him -vrith a box of ivory tools, on account of the
predUection he showed to handicrafts. The gift cost her
twenty pounds, which was rather pompously announced in
the Gazette. The chUd had thriven pretty weU at Campden-
house, but his speech and inteUect were far more advanced
than his physical strength, for at four years old he was
scarcely able to walk without support.
The queen's regency lasted untU the 27th of October,
when king WUUam arrived at Harvrich. The results of the
naval war under her majesty's guidance at home, and of the
regimental war conducted by king WUliam in Flanders, had
been dreadfuUy disastrous. The naval defeat at St, Vincent,
— that cape whose name has since been so glorious in the
annals of British marine warfare, — had taken place in
Mary's regency; twelve English and Dutch men-of-war
were destroyed by TourriUe, who thus revenged himself for
the loss he had sustained the preceding year at La Hogue ;
likevrise by the plunder of the rich Turkey fleet. King
WiUiam had lost another hard-fought and bloody battle in
Flanders, — that of Landen, The defeat of admfral Benbow,
when bombarding the Breton town of St, Malo, was the last
disaster in queen Mary's regency; the naval captains who
were to have supported Benbow, probably out of disUke to
the government, refiised to fight, and a darker shade was
cast on the British name than that of defeat, for executions
ensued for cowardice. Such were the troubles of a dirided
nation. These disasters were very freely commented upon in the
speech from the throne, wherevrith the king opened parUa
ment, November 7th. The loss of his battle he acknow
ledged, but he attributed it to insufficiency of money-sup-
phes. The naval defeats he likewise admitted, and said they
should be inqufred into. The people of England were
aghast at the enormity of taxation; they groaned under
thefr burdens, and manifested such a tendency to mutinous
faction, that after long contests in parliament, the king de
clared in privy councU, "that as they seemed better satisfied

410 MAEY IL
¦with the government of the queen, he would leave her to
rule them, and retfre wholly to his native country."' This
threat was, of course, a very alarming one to a devoted wife
like Mary; but his majesty was induced to think better of
his resolution, and In place of abdication, to try the effects
of a change of administration, composed of personages be
longing to the old nobUity, to whom appertained such vast
hereditary estates, that they would be inaccessible to the
corruption practised by the dishonest prime-minister who
had at various times during the last twenty years governed
England, under the oft-changing epithets of sir Thomas
Osborne, lord Danby, marquess of Carmarthen, and duke of
Leeds, It was this man who had exalted Mammon into the
supremacy, of which the king and church had been deprived
at the Revolution. He had systematically devoted a large
share of the unexampled taxation raised since the Revolu
tion to purchasing a majority in the house of commons.
The queen always looked up to this wUy veteran with con
siderable deference whUe he was president of her council.
From her letters to her husband her reasons have been
quoted, because, when lord Danby, he had negotiated her
marriage. The venerable primate of England, WilUam Sancroft, died
November 23, 1693, in his humble paternal cottage at Fres
singfield, in Suffolk, where he led a holy, but not altogether
peaceful life. Ever and anon, on the rumours of Jacobite
insurrections, the queen's messengers were sent to harass the
old man ¦vrith Inquisitions regarding his poUtics.^ The queen
gained Uttle more from her Inquiries than information of
his devotions, his ascetic abstemiousness, and his walks in a
bowery orchard, where he spent his days in study or medi
tation. Death laid a welcome and gentle hand on the de
prived archbishop, at the age of seventy-seven years. Far
from the pomps of Lambeth, he rests beneath the humble
green sod of a Suffolk church-yard. There is a tablet raised
to his memory, on the outside of the porch of Fressingfield
' Dalrymple's History of the Eevolution.
• D'Oyley's Life of Sancroft.

MAEY II. 411
church, which is still shown ¦with pride and affection by the
inhabitants of his native riUage. A poet of his native county
has nobly iUustrated the retreat of Sancroft, His words,
however beautiful and touching, do not exaggerate the
truth : — "He left high Lambeth's venerable towers.
For his small heritage and humble bowers.
# * # * #
Now with his staif in his paternal ground.
Amid his orchard trees he may be found.
An old man late returned where he was seen.
Sporting a chUd upon the village green.
How many a changeful year had passed between !
Blanching h"is scattered hair, but leaving there
A heart kept young by piety and prayer.
That to the inqufring friend could meekly teU,
'Be not for me aflSicted: it is well,
• For 'twas in my integrity I feU.'"'
" Sancroft had died a year before. In the same poor and
despicable manner in which he had Uved for some years."
This sentence is in Burnet's own hand in his manuscripts;
it Is likevrise in bis printed history. But just opposite, on
the next page of the latter, appears the self-contradiction of
these words, when lauding Tillotson for dying poor: " So
generous and charitable was he in a post, out of which San
croft had raised a great estate." Thus Sancroft is despised
for his poverty in one page, and taunted ¦with his riches In
the next. The fate of archbishop Sancroft had a remarkable
effect on the mind of the most original genius of his times,
who was then rising into the first consciousness of great and
varied powers. When Sancroft died, aU hope and trust in
the possibUity of the prosperity of goodness left the mind of
Swift, Every rision of virtue, purity, and divine Ideality
which haunts the inteUect of a young poet, was riolently
repudiated by him in an access of misanthropic despafr.
Ambitious, and replete with mighty energy, and sorely
goaded by want and impatience of dependence. Swift, never
theless, resolved to swim with the current of events, and
float uppermost on the stream of politics, howsoever corrupt
' These Unes are by the rev. John Mitford ; the last words embody an
answer which the venerable Sancroft made to his cliaplain when on his death
bed.

412 MAEY II.
the surface might be. He took his fareweU, in his " Ode
to Sancroft," of all that was beautiful and glorious in the
animus of his art, to devote himself to the foulest and
fiercest phase of satfre. How can a documentary historian
read without emotion that magnificent invocation -vrith which
S-vrift, the young kinsman of John Dryden, commences his
elegy' on the fall of Sancroft !
" Truth, the eternal chUd of hoUest heaven !
Brightest effluence of the immortal ray !
Chief cherub and chief lamp of that high seven
Which guard the throne by night, and are its Ught by day J
Ffrst of God's mighty attributes.
Thou daUy seest him face to face.
Nor does thy essence fixied depend on giddy cfrcumstance
Of time or place.
How shall we find thee, then, in dark disputes 1
How shall we search thee in a battle gained.
Or a weak argument by force maintained ?
For where is e'en thy image on our earth.
Since heaven wUl claim thy residence and birth ?
And God himself has said, ' Ye shall not find it here !*
Since this inferior world is but heaven's dusky shade.
By dark reverted rays from its reflection made.
Is not good Sancroft, in his holy rest.
In the divinity of his retreat.
The brightest pattern earth can show ?
But fools, for being strong and numerous grown.
Suppose the truth, Uke the whole world, thefr ownj
And holy Sancroft's course frregular appears.
Because entfrely opposed to thefrs.
Ah, Brit^, land of angels ! which of all thy sins,—
Say, hapless isle, although
It is a bloody Ust we know, —
Has given thee up a dwelling place for fiends ?
Sin and the plague ever abound
In easy governments and fruitful ground;
Evils which a too gentie king.
Too flourishing a spring.
And too warm summers bring.
Our Britain's soil is over rank, and breeds
Among the noblest flowers a thousand pois'nous weeds ;
And every noxious weed so lofty grows.
As if it meant to o'ershade the royal rose, —
¦ These extracts are from a copy in Cole's Miscellaneous MSS., in which the
poem is far superior in perspicuity and polish to the copies printed in the
editions of Swift's works, where, however, it is very rare.

MAEY II. 413
The royal rose, the glory of our mom.
But ah ! too much without a thorn.
Forgive (original mUdness) this ungovemed zeal,
'Tis all the angry Muse can do.
In the pollution of these days
No province now is left her but to rail.
For poetry has lost the art to praise,
Alas ! the occasions are so very few."
Svrift fulfiUed the determination here expressed so com
pletely, that the quotation of this historical poem wUl excite
no Uttle surprise, for it is forgotten or stifled among the
profusion of his productions of a contrary tendency. Never
theless, Swift, as a contemporary memoriaUst, throws true
Hght on the events of his era, when his historical nota
tions were not garbled for premature pubUcation. Harring
lamented the undeserved adversity of the disinterested
primate of the EngUsh church. Swift buckled his fortunes
on those of that primate's mortal enemy, WilUam III. The
king, on becoming acquainted "with Svvift at the house of sfr
WiUiam Temple, offered him a troop of horse; and after
wondering wherefore a man of his unclerical mind refused
an occupation more fitting to it than that of Christian
tuition, he left him with no other benefit than teaching him
the Dutch way of cutting asparagus from the beds at Moor
Park, when his majesty staid with sir WiUiam Temple. King
WiUiam Uke"wise incidcated the propriety of his mode of
eating this vegetable, which was to devour the whole of the
stalks. Swift insisted on aU his guests practising the same
refined royal method when, in after life, he became dean of
St. Patrick's ; but more out of satfre on the " glorious me
mory," and tq, vex its Irish adorers, than for any sincere
admfration of this Dutch custom.'
• Sfr Walter Scott's Life of Swift.

MARY IL
QUEEN-EEGNANT OP GREAT BRITAIN AND lEELAND.

CHAPTER X.

Anecdotes of Mary II. — Gossip of the court — Her attention te her nephew —
Princess Anne's arrangements for him — His vicinity to the queen at Campden-
house — Often -visits her majesty — Departure of the king — Queen founds
Greenwich Hospital — Anecdotes of the queen and her nephew — Disasters hi
the queen's government — Return of the king — Archbishop TiUotson struck
vrith death in the queen's presence — Queen's observations regarding Dr.
Hooper— Queen appoints Dr. Tennison archbishop — Lord Jersey's remon
strance — Her reply — Queen taken iU at Kensington — Sits up to destroy
papers — Fluctuations in her disorder — ^Proceedings of her sister — Queen's
iUness results in the smaUpox — Her danger — ^Anguish of the king — Prmcess
Anne sends lady Fitzharding vrith message to the queen — Queen's sufferings
from erysipelas — Her Ufe despaired of — Preparations for death — Delirious
fencies — Dangerous state of the king — Death of Mary II. — Great seal broken
— News of her death carried to St. Germains by a priest — Conduct of her
father, and his remarks on her death — ^Letter she left- for her husband — ^Duke
of Devonshire's verses on her death — Bumet's eulogy — ^Lord Cutts' elegy, &o.
— Jacobite epigrams on the queen — Sermons, funeral, and wax statue m West
minster-abbey — Anecdotes in her praise — Bumet's panegyrical epitaph.
The new prime-minister, destined to be president of the
queen's councU when she again reigned alone, was Charles
Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury, who had been permitted to take
his seat as premier earl of England on a very doubtful re
nunciation of the Roman-catholic reUgion, in which he had
been educated. Scandal feigned that he was the object of
queen Mary's passionate affection. This gossip arose from
the reports of " one Jack Howe," her dismissed rice-cham
berlain, who was, in 1693-4, purveyor of scandal to the
princess Anne's inimical little court, , He has already been
mentioned in one of the satfres of the day as "repubhc
Jack Howe," Lord chamberlains and rice-chamberlains
have always been very formidable personages as connected
with slander in regard to queens, either as the subjects of

.:«^^.^ ^j.. 415
tales, or the inventors of them. There is a story
concerning the successor of Jack Howe. Queen Mary
did not often indulge in badinage or playfulness; once,
however, she forgot her caution, and gave rise to an anec
dote, the tradition of which was handed down to Horace
Walpole. One day the queen asked her ladies, "What
was meant by a squeeze of the hand?" They answered,
" Love." — " Then," said the queen, laughing, " vice-cham
berlain Smith must be In love with me, for he squeezes my
hand very hard." Among many other cfrcumstances, which
contradict the report that queen Mary bestowed any undue
partiality on lord Shrewsbury, is the undoubted fact, that
the vacIUations of that nobleman regarding his acceptance
of office, were settled by the negotiations of her husband's
female favourite and Mrs. Lundee, a woman dishonourably
connected with Shrewsbury.' Thus was the appointment of
a prime-minister of England arranged in a manner equaUy
disgraceful to king WiUiam and to himself. Shrewsbury's
poUtical intrigues -vrith a woman deservedly abhorred by the
queen were not Ukely to recommend him to her majesty.
Neither is the description of lord Shrewsbury as " a charm
ing man, wanting one eye," very attractive.
The young hefr of England, at this period, began to
occupy the attention of his aunt, the queen. In a greater
degree than heretofore. The princess Anne continued to
reside at Berkeley-house as her to'wn residence, whUe her
boy usuaUy inhabited Campden-house,^ Kensington-palace.
The princess had suites of apartments at Campden-house for
her own use, and occasionaUy resided with her son,^ although
" Coxe's Correspondence of the Duke of Shrewsbury. See the letters to and
from Mrs. ¦ViUiers and Mrs. Lundee, pp. 18-30.
' Mr. Brayley, in bis Londiniana, declares that the front of Campden-house
was puUed down early in the present century.
^ This is gathered from the tract fuU of pueriUties written by Lewis Jenkins,
a Welsh usher to the Uttle duke's chamber. The usher's memofr has, however,
thrown that Ught on the residence and daUy Ufe of queen Mary and her sister
for which it is vain to search history. The localities of Jenkins' narrative of
smaU fact3"are often quoted as in the bedchamber, cabinet, or sitting-room of
the prmcess Anne at Campden-house; Uke-svise it preserves the fact, that she
resided at Berkeley -house untU she took possession of St. James's-palace.

416 MAEY n.
the entree at Kensington-palace, open to him, was for ever
barred to her. AU the prorisions for his table. were sent
daily from Berkeley-house; these consisted of plain joints of
meat, to which an apple-pie was added as dessert, but he
was never permitted to eat confectionary. The predUection
aU young chUdren take for the gUtter and clatter of mUitajy
movements, was eagerly fostered by his attendants as an
early indication of love of war ; and to cultivate this rirtuous
propensity to the height, he was indulged with warlike toys
in profusion, miniature cannon, swords, and trumpets, and,
more than aU, -vrith a little regiment of urchins about his
own age.
The princess Anne, finding her son afflicted vrith the ague
in 1694, sent for Mr. Sentiman, an apothecary, and required
him "to give her a prescription approved of by her uncle
Charles IL, for," her royal highness said, " it cured every
kind of ague." Mr. Sentiman had the recipe for the nos
trum, which was a mixture of brandy and saffron ; It made
the poor chUd excessively 111, but did not cure him. Her
royal highness had a great ambition to have her young son
elected a knight of the Garter, and soon afterwads sent him
to risit the queen and king WiUiam -vrith a blue band passed
over his shoulder, to put them in mind that there was a
blue riband vacant by the death of the duke of HamUton,
Queen Mary received her young risitor, but did not take the
hint respecting the coveted Garter, which she gave the duke
of Shrewsbury as a reward for haring, after much pohtical
coquetry, agreed to become her secretary of state. The
queen bestowed on her little nephew a gift much more con
sonant to his years ; this was a beautiful bfrd. But It ap
pears that the chUd had been rendered, either by his mother
or his governess, expectant and ambitious of the. blue riband;
he therefore rejected the bfrd, and very calmly said, "that
he would not rob her majesty of it,"
The poor little prince was evidently afflicted -vrith hydro
cephalus, or water on the brain, a complaint that often
carries to the grave whole families of promising Infants,
Such was, no doubt, the disease that desolated the nursery

MAEY II. 417
of the princess Anne : very little was known regarding its
cure, or even its nature, by the facidty at that period. The
symptoms are clearly traced by the duke's attendant, Lewis
Jenkins, who says, " The dulce of Gloucester's head was very
long and large, insomuch that his hat was big enough for
most men, which made it difficult to fit his head -with a
peruke," — a peruke for an infant bom in July 1689 ! It was
then only Easter 1694. The unfortunate chUd, -vrith this
enormous head, is nevertheless described In glowing terms
by his flattering attendant. After lamenting the difficulties
of fitting the poor babe ¦with a perivrig, because the doctors
kept a blister in the nape of his neck, he continues,' " The
face of the young duke of Gloucester was oval, and usually
glowed ¦vrith a fresh colour ; his body easy, his arms finely
hung, his chest full; his legs proportionable to his body
made him appear very charming, turning out his toes as
if he had really been taught to do so, I measured him,
and found his height was three feet four Inches. Although
he was active and Uvely, yet he could not go up and down
stairs vrithout help, nor raise himself when down." How
any child could be active and lively in such a pitiable state,
passes the comprehension of every one but Lewis Jenkins.
"People concluded it was occasioned by the over care of
the ladies. The prince of Denmark, who was a very good-
natured, pleasant man, would often raUy them about it;
and Dr, Radcliffe, In his accustomed manner, spoke very
bluntly to Mrs, Lewin, his sub-governess, about it,"
The young prince was chiefly managed by his governess,
lady Fitzharding, lord Fitzharding, master of the horse to
the princess his mother, and Mrs. Lewin. The Kingston
quakeress, his wet-nurse, had likewise great authority in his
household : Mr, Pratt, one of the chaplains of the princess,
was his preceptor. " After due consultation ¦vrith the prince
Jier husband, the princess Anne considered that It was time
that thefr heir should assume his mascuUne attire, seeing
how active he was, and that his stiff-bodied coats were very
froublesome to him in his mUitary amusements, (for no-
• Lewis Jenkins' Memofrs of the Duke of Gloucester, p. 12,
VOLi VII, E E

418 MAEY n,
thing but battles, sieges, drums, and warlike tales afforded
him recreation) ; the princess and prince of Denmark, there
fore, ordered my lady Fitzharding, his governess, to put him
into male habiUments, which was accordingly done on Eas
ter-day." Does the reader wish to know the costume of the
hefr of Great Britain on Easter-day, 1694? His suit was
white camlet, with loops and buttons of sUver thread. He
TVfore stiff stays under his waistcoat, which hurt him, — no
wonder ! Whereupon Mr. Hughes, the Uttle duke's taUor
Was sent for, and the duke of Gloucester ordered a band
of urchins from the regiment of boys, which he termed his
horse-guards, to punish the taUor for making the stiff stays
that hurt him. The punishment was, to be put on the
wooden horse, which stood in the presence-chamber at
Campden-house,' this horse being placed there for the tor
ment of military offenders. Now tailor Hughes had never
been at Campden-house, and knew none of its customs; and
when he found himself surrounded by a mob of smaU imps
in mimic soldiers' gear, aU trying, as far as they could
reach, to puU and push him towards the instrument of
punishment, the poor Welshman was not a little scared,
deeming them freakish fairies, very maUgnly disposed to
wards him. At last Levris Jenkins, the usher, came to the
rescue of his countryman. An explanation was then en
tered into, and the Welsh tailor was set at Uberty, after
he had promised to amend all that was amiss in the stiff
stays of his Uttle highness.
The young duke had a mighty fancy to be prince of
Wales, and often asked Jenkins "why he was not so?"
The question was perplexing, since the princess Anne had
solemnly charged lady Fitzharding, and aU her son's attend
ants, never to make any aUusion to his grandfather, king
James IL, or to the unfortunate prince of Wales, har
brother: her chUd was not to know that they existed.
Levris Jenkins told him, " It was not impossible but that,
one day, he might be prince of Wales; and if he ever
were, he hoped he would make him his Welch interpreter.'"
' Lewis Jenkins' Memofrs of the Duke of Gloucester, p. 11.

MAEY IL 419
it seems always to have been a custom in the royal family
of England since the era of Edward I., to propitiate the
principality by appointing some Welsh persons as servants
of the princes of Wales, and by employing Welsh trades
men for thefr households. These little observances con-
cihate and please, when national differences of language
sometimes occasion mutiny and discontent.
One day, just before his uncle's departure for the cam
paign in 1694, the Uttle duke had a grand field-day in
Kensington-gardens, king WilUam condescending to look
on. The Infant Gloucester very affectionately promised him
the assistance of himself and his whole troop of urchins for
his Flemish war; then turning to queen Mary eagerly,
he said, "My mamma once had guards as well as you;
why has she not them now?" The queen's surprise was
erident and painful. King WUUam presented the young
duke's drummer, on the spot, with two guineas, as a re
ward for the loudness of his music, which proved a season
able diversion to the awkward question of his young com
mander. The chUd must have heard the matter discussed
in his household, or between his parents, since he was
but a few months old when his mother was deprived of
her guards. Queen Mary received a risit from her nephew
on her birthday, April 30, 1694. After he had wished
her joy, he began, as usual, to prate. There were car
penters at work in the queen's gallery at Kensington, the
room in which her majesty stood ¦vrith the king. The
young duke asked the queen "what they were about?"
"Mending the gallery," said queen Mary, "or it -vriU
falI."_«Let it faU, let it faU," said the young duke, "and
then you must be off to London," — a true indication that
he had not been taught to consider their royal ricinity
as any great advantage to Campden-house.
WilUam III. went to risit his infant nephew at Camp
den-house the foUovring Sunday, It was in vain that
lady Fitzharding lectm-ed her charge, and adrised him
» Levris Jenkms' Memofrs of the Duke of Gloucester, p, 10.
E E 2

420 MAEY IL
to make the mUitary salute to his royal uncle ; not a word
would the boy say on that subject, untU he had demanded
leave of his majesty to fire off his train of miniature ar
tiUery. The king was rather charmed ¦vrith this mUitary
mania, so weU according with his own. Three cannons
were fired off, and a deep lamentation made by the httle
duke that the fourth was broken. King WiUiam promised
to send him a new one, but forgot it. The chUd then,
of his own accord, thanked him for coming to see him,
and added, "My dear king, you shall have both my com
panies, vrith myself, to serve you in Flanders," — meaning
the urchins who formed what he caUed his regiments.
These boy-soldiers were no sUght annoyance to Kensing
ton, for on thefr return homewards from drill, presuming
on being the duke of Gloucester's men, they used to enter
the houses on the road to London, and help themselves
to whatever they Uked,' — a proceeding in complete coin
cidence with the times, since it appears that this was only
an imitation of the practices of soldiers quartered in the
en^vfrons of London at the same era.
Whether queen Mary approved of the new adminisfra-.
tion, it would be extremely difficult to discover. Her con
sort, who best knew her mind, once warned her minister
"not to take it for granted that the queen was of his opinion
every time she did not contradict him," — a hint Ulusfrative
of the diplomatic reserve of her character. Her letters
prove that command of countenance was her systematic
study, and that she likevrise anticipated the poUtical deduc
tions that those around her drew from the fluctuations of
her spirits. Few women ever Uved in such an atmosphere
of bodUy and mental restraint, or so sedidously calculated
the effect of her words, looks, or manners, as Mary of
England, Her ancestor, James I,, made a remarkable
clatter about an art that he fancied he had invented, called
by him king-craft, which his constant loquacity and socia
bility prevented him from practising; but queen Mary, if
we may judge by her own -written admissions, had secretly
' Lewis Jenkins' Memofrs of the Duke of Gloucester, p. 15,

MAEY IL 421
reduced queen-craft to a system, and acted thereon to
the last moment of her existence. The abstinence from
contradiction into which she had been schooled, from gfrl-
hood, by the waspishness of her partner, caused her to
be given credit for a host of vfrtues to which she had small
claims. Among others, she had led her chamberlain, lord
Iffottlngham, to imagine that, in case of -vridowhood, it
was her intention to restore her father to his throne.' It
is startling, indeed, that so dutiful a spouse should have
suffered her thoughts to stiay towards the independent
state of widowhood, to which, however, though much
younger than WiUiam, she never attained. Whether the
queen vrished some filial affection to be attributed to her
by lord Shrewsbury and lord Nottingham, whom she had
reason to beUeve were in secret attached to her father,
or whether her taste was justly offended by the indeUcacy
of the conduct of lord Halifax, it is difficult to decide.
Nevertheless, king WUliam thought proper to warn his
ministry not to offend the queen as lord HaUfax had done,
who had infinitely disgusted her by breaking his rude jests
on her father In her presence; "And on this account,"
added king WUliam, "the queen at last could not endure
the sight of lord Halifax."^ This singular warning appears
to have been given by the king just before his departure
to Flanders, which took place May 6th that year, by way
of Margate.* > Lord Dartmouth's Notes. = Ibid.
' King WilUam was passing through Canterbury to go to HoUand, when his
approach excited the loyalty of a ne'er-do-weU lad caUed Matthew Bishop, a
resident there, but on the point ot running away, and seeking his forhme by
sea, in the manner of Robinson Crusoe. This worthy seems never to have
whoUy digested the dry manner in which his Dutch majesty received his zealous
homage. " I gathered," he said, in his auto-biography, " aU the fiowers out of
our own garden and several more, to adorn the High-street as he came along;
and then, with some others, [boys,] ran by the side of his coach from CoUege-
yard, almost two mUes, huzzaing and crying at the top of our voices, ' God bless
king William!' tiU his majesty put bis hand upon the glass, and looking upon
us, said, with the most disgusting dryness, ' It is enough.' " King WUliam
could not weU say less, yet contrived to offend his admfrer so implacably, that he
declares the news of the king's death, when it occurred, gave him sensible satis-
laction. Thus were the people of England weaned from their close and famiUar
approxunation with royalty, in which they had heretofore both deUghted and

422 MAEY II.
A report has arisen that queen Mary was accustomed to
supply her father -vrith money In his exUe; this has solely
sprimg from a false statement of Voltafre. We have found
that the unfortunate king sent a fruitless request to White
haU even for his clothes;' we have found. that his indignant
subjects recognised trifiing property that had belonged to
him, or to his queen, in the possession of his daughter ; we
have found the greedy inquisition that daughter made about
the beds and toUets at WhitehaU, assuredly to see whether
the basins and ewers, and other furniture of soUd silver, had
been removed;^ but we cannot find a single trace, or even an
offer, of any restitution from his private estates.*
The summer of 1694 brought its usual anxieties to the
heart of the queen, in the shape of lost naval battles and
fruitless expeditions. Time has unveiled the mystery of
these faUures. The defeat of the expedition against Brest
took place In June; general ToUemache and sixteen hundred
men were left dead on the French coast they had been sent
to invade. There Is some excuse to be offered for the utter
abhorrence in which queen Mary held lord Marlborough,
when It is found, from the most incontestable documentary
given deUght. The monarchs of England had formerly Uved in the presence of
thefr commonalty ; the chivalric Plantagenet, the powerM Tudor, the graoefiil
Stuart, enjoyed no high festival, no gorgeous triumph, without thefr people for
^''^'"^- > Evelyn.
^ They were afterwards coined into half-crowns by. king WiUiam.
' The pretence on which "Voltafre has hung his falsehood, was the chicanery
(to use the very term of secretary Williamson, who practised it) regarding the
50,000^. which had been granted by the English parliament in payment of the
dower of the queen of James IL, at the peace of Eyswick, and was supposed,
both by the people of France and Great Britain, to have been paid to the unfor
tunate queen ; but when the parUamentary inqufry took place, in 1699, into the
peculations of Somers' ministry, it was proved that the queen's dowry never
found its way further than into king WUliam's pocket. From that moment the
supply was stopped, amidst vituperations of the house of commons that nearly
amounted to execrations. So sliaUow an historian as "Voltafre took it for granted
that the dower had been paid, and that James II. subsisted on it, because the
charge was m the budget of supply ; but he dived not into the whole of the m-
cadents, and was mistaken in the chronology, or he would never have attributed
such payments to " Mary the daughter." There does not appear a cfrcumstance,
besides this grant of the commons, (which was never paid,) on which Voltafre,
and the English historians who have echoed him, can found the assertion they
have made.

MAEY II, 423
eridence,' that this person betrayed his countrymen to their
slaughter by sending information to France of the projected
attack, with many base protestations of the truth of his
inteUigence, and some reproaches that his former master,
king James, had never on any other occasion avaUed himself
of his information. The present intelligence cost ToUemache
his Ufe, for to that general Marlborough had pecuUar malice;
it likewise caused the destruction of many hundreds of un
fortunate soldiers, who had given him no offence. Thus the
earnest desire of queen Mary to separate the Marlboroughs
from her sister, was a mere act of self-defence; yet the
course she pursued towards her sister excites contempt, on
account of the series of low-minded petty attacks upon her,
in which the spitefulness in regard to trifles strongly brings
to mind the Une, —
" WaUng to wound, but yet to strike afraid."
One of queen Anne's historians affirms, that the queen
caused the name of her sister to be omitted in the Common
Prayer-book ; but against this assertion we beg to offer our
own particular evidence, since we well remember, at six
years old, in the Innocence of our heart, and without any
papistical Intentions, praying at church for king WilUam,
queen Mary, princess Anne, and the duke of Gloucester, out
of old family Prayer-books printed in that reign.
When the news arrived in the household of the princess
Anne of the disastrous defeat of ToUemache, the word went
that he and his troops had been betrayed to death. " I was
in waiting at Campden-house," says Levris Jenkins, " when
told the news that there had been an attempt to land men
in Camaret-bay, which was iU-advIsed ; for the French had
bad notice of our design, and general ToUemache and a great
number of brave soldiers were IdUed or wounded; for the
enemy were strongly entrenched near the bay, the king of
' Stuart Papers, edited by Macpherson, vol. i. Coxe, the apologist for Mari-
borough, il obhged to own his hero guilty of this infamous act. His excuses for
him seem to add to tho guilt. Likewise Dafrymple's Memoirs of Groat Britain,
where the reader may consult overpowering evidence of these treasons, and read
Marlborough's letter : vol. ii. pp. 44>, 45,

424 MAEY IL
France having posted his arrive ban^ everywhere near Brest.
We, who were in waiting, were talking of it to one another
before the Uttle duke of Gloucester, We thought he was
busy at play, and did not attend to what passed ; but when
my lady governess Fitzharding came in the afternoon, and
began to teU the young duke the sad news, he stopped her,
by repeating the story as exactly as if he had been taught
it." From the same source it is found, that at the period
of this disaster the princess Anne was on a risit with the
guUty persons, the earl of Marlborough and his wife, at Sun
dridge, near St. Albans, to which seat, belonging to lady
Marlborough, she often retfred for some days.
It has been mentioned, that the gossips of the cfrcle
at Berkeley-house, by the assistance of thefr aUy, "Jack
Howe," had thought proper to promulgate the fiction that
the one-eyed prime-minister, Shrewsbury, was the object of
queen Mary's secret preference. They actuaUy went so far.
as to affirm, that if king WUUam died, the queen woidd have
given her hand to Shrewsbury. Such tales certainly Invest
the despatches that premier wrote to king WiUiam In his
absence with an interest they would not otherwise possess.
The sole foundation for this report is, that whenever lord
Shrewsbury entered the presence of queen Mary, she was
observed to tremble and tum pale, — no very certain criterion
of the nature of the passion that agitated the queen, which
might be fear or hope concerning the tidings, of weal or
woe, he was Ukely to bring her on matters of high Import.
Assuredly, lord Shrewsbury himself had heard of these
scandals, for he expresses himself vrith a certain degree of
prudish stiffness when he mentions the queen in his des
patches to her absent consort, dated August 1694. The
question was, whether the fleet commanded by RusseU should
-vrinter at Cadiz, or return to England? The pri-vy council
were not united in thefr opinions : as to the vaciUation of
Shrewsbury, it was almost proverbial.
"When they," he writes to king WilUam,^ "were so diffi-
' Feudal miUtia.
' Coxe's Shrewsbury Correspondence, p. 66.

MAEY IL 425
dent, you may be sure I was much more so of my own single ;
and therefore I had not presumed to say any more to your
majesty upon this subject, but that the queen did me the
honour to send for me, and chide me, saying, ' that, in so
important and nice a point, I ought not only to give your
majesty an account of my o-wn thoughts, but, as near as I
could collect, the thoughts of the whole committee.' It is
therefore in obedience to her commands, and no presumption
of my own, that I venture to report to your majesty that
every body agreed the decision should be left to admiral
RusseU." These words give no very brUUant idea of the
abUities of Mary's assistant in government, but they Illus
trate some of her difficulties in eliciting the opinions of her
council, and bringing them to an unanimous decision. Could
queen Mary have examined thefr private escritoirs, and
opened the autograph letters which we have opened, her
spirit must have failed in utter despair at witnessing thefr
compUcated treachery; and whether the Intent of these
double-deaUng men was to betray her or her father, the dis
gust excited by their conduct is equal. A majority among
the great body of the people, backed by the system of for
midable standing armies, supported her, and the queen again
steered the vessel of the state safely through aU dangers ; but
the more the separate treasons are considered, the higher
ought her abilities in government to be rated.
The queen expedited the legal completion of her best good
work, the foundation of Greenvrich Hospital, a few days
before the return of her husband. The letters-patent for
this foundation are dated October 25th, 1694. It was des-
tiued for the use of those seamen of her royal navy who, by
age, wounds, or other accidents, should be disabled from
further serrice at sea. There was afterwards established a
liberal naval school for thefr children. The legal instrument
sets forth, "that the king and queen granted to sfr John
Somers, lord keeper, and other great officers of state, eight
acres df thefr manor of Greenwich, and that capital mes
suage, lately buUt by their royal uncle, king Charles II. , and
stUl remaining unflnished, commonly called 'the palace of

426 lilAEY.n.
Greenwich,' and several other edifices and buUdings standing
upon part of the aforesaid ground bounded by the Thames,
and by admeasurement along that river 673 feet, to the east
end of an edifice caUed ' the Vestry,' southward on the ' old
Tiltyard' and the 'queen's garden," and westward on the
' Friar's-road,' and bovmded by other lands belonging to the
crown,

»•!

In the subsequent confirmation of this grant by WiUiam
III. In 1695, the king mentions the foundation " as a parti
cular -wish of the queen;" thus the conversion of this un
finished palace, which remained a national reproach, into an
institution which is one of its glories, originated vrith Mary
II ., who, nevertheless, contributed nothing towards the en
dowment or support of the charity from her own purse.
Something, perhaps, she meant to give, yet that part caUed
by her name remained unfinished as late as 1752 for want of
fiinds; and when king WilUam endowed the hospital vnth
the sum of 8000Z. in 1695, that sum was taken out of the
civU Ust, and thus was entirely the charity of the Enghsh
nation.^ No doubt, the queen would have been better
pleased if she had been suffered to endow her hospital -vdth
her family spoUs, than to have had the grief and shame of
seeing them dispensed where they were,^ This explanation
is needful to show wherefore queen Mary, -with every good-
' One of the landing-places at Greenwich is stiU caUed Grarden-stairs. These
names are almost the only vestiges that remain of the ancient palace and convent
there. 2 Halsted's History of Kent, vol. i. p. 22.
' An equal sum was coUected from the munificence of private indiriduals in
London. A scheme was afterwards arranged for the support of the hospital by
the deduction of sixpence a-month from the wages of the seamen, a plan probably
not intended by queen Mary.
* It is a fact scarcely credible, but nevertheless true, that her husband seized
upon the ancient inheritance in Ireland, her father's private property, possesions
derived from EUzabeth de Burgh by her descendants through his ancestors the
Mortimers, and endowed with them the infamous Elizabeth VUUers. To this
woman he had granted 95,649 acres of land, the private estate of king James,
valued at 25,995?. per annum. It is a satisfaction to find that the house of
commons, some years afterwards, in the Ufetime of king WilUam, enraged at this
appropriation, forced this woman to give up her spoils, and likevrise tore enor
mous estates from the Duteh favourites, Bentinck, Ginkle, and Keppel, and
ordained thefr restitution, with aU the income pertaining to them since the 13th
of February, 1687. — Toone's Chronology.

MAey IL 427
wiU to become a most munificent foundress, was forced to
limit her benefactions to the grant of a deserted palace, and
the simple permission of existence to this great charity.
Nevertheless, there was no Uttle intellect in the act of pro
jecting and instituting such an establishment as Green
vrich Hospital, and appropriating a palace, in which her
husband deUghted not to dweU, to so noble and beneficent
a purpose, England perhaps owed the firm establishment of her naval
power to the deUght which her sovereigns In the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries took in thefr residence at Green-
vrich-palace, where they loved to dwell, -vrith aU their mighty
navy anchored around them. The Tudors, and especially the
Stuarts, then felt themselves monarchs of the ocean, and
exulted in every gallant ship added to thefr navy, as the
cavaUer rejoices in a new battle-steed. These vessels being
thus completely under the eyes of their sovereign, he and aU
his race took pleasure in, and became judges of those marine
and colonial statistics, with which the true interests of this
empfre are ritally connected. The navy of England, Uke
vrise the mighty colonies founded in the Intervals of peace
in the seventeenth century, decUned miserably for upwards
of fifty years after the reigning sovereign had given up the
naval palace of Greenwich, The queen, in 1694, was re
quired by some persons (who were. It is supposed, king WU
liam and his Dutch favourites) to demolish all the royal
structures appertaining to Greenwich-palace before she com
menced the naval hospital; but her majesty had enough
regard for the place to resist this proposal. " I mean," she
said, "to retain the -wing, builded by my uncle Charles II,,
as a royal reception-palace on the landing of foreign princes
or ambassadors; likevrise the water-stairs, and approach to
the same." The beautiful structure in the lower park, (to
this day caUed 'the queen's house,') which was built by
Charles I, for his queen, Henrietta Maria, It was the inten
tion of queen Mary still to retain as a royal riUa, for her own
occasional retfrement, teUIng sir Christopher Wren "that she
meant him to add the four pariUons at the corners, as origi-

428 MAEY IL
nally designed by Inlgo,' With this resolution, her majesty
ordered to be left a 'head-road' from the landing-place, lead
ing to the small palace," Thus Mary had planned to dweU
occasionaUy at Greenvrich, perhaps for the purpose of watch
ing. In the true spirit of a foundress, over the noble hospital
she had designed to raise around ; such was " her majesty's
absolute determination," to quote the words of her surveyor,*
— such were her plans when looking forward to a long rista
of years, not knowing how few weeks were reaUy to be her
own. For several months the queen had been in Imminent dan
ger from the machinations of a knot of dark conspfrators
among her guards, of whom the chief plotter, sfr George
Barclay, was Ueutenant-general, He had been a riolent revo
lutionist, but on some recent aflront connected himself vrith
the Jacobite interest. By means of his coadjutor, captain
WiUiamson, of the same corps, he had, under feigned names,
sounded king James regarding an assassination of William
III. This scheme the exiled king forbad -with detestation.
Sir George Barclay then affected to adopt, in his own name,
another plan. He -wrote, "that he and sfr John Friend
hoped, by a stratagem, to seize ' the prince and princess of
Orange,' and bring them to his majesty, thefr father, at St.
Germains."^ As this plot was formed by noted revolu
tionists, employed in guarding her person, there actually
existed a possibUity that the daughter might have been
dragged across the seas into the presence of her father.
Nothing, after the success of two revolutions in one century,
• Life of Sfr Christopher Wren. Hawksmoor's Account of Greenwich Hos
pital, 1728. He was deputy-surveyor. = Ibid.
' State-Papers, edited by Macpherson, vol. i. p. 467, and Dafrymple's Memoirs
of Great Britain, p. 74. This very clause must acquit James II. of aU deshe
of assassinating his nephew. Two years afterwards, this strange scheme was
matured by these men into an assassination-plot against WilUam III., then a
vridower, who was to have been murdered when returning to London from
hunting at Eichmond. No less than ten gentlemen were put to death for this
plot, called in history " Sir John Friend's Conspiracy." It is worthy of remark,
that tho leaders or executors of all the assassination-plots, in this reign and the
next, had been revolutionists, or oflicers from WiUiam's own hand of French
refugees, as Grandval and Guiscard; the latter, however, is supposed not to have
joined the refugee corps tiU after the king's death.

MAEY n. 429
seemed, in fact, too wild and perilous to be undertaken by
EngUsh political adventurers.
Queen Mary condescended to encourage a spy and tale
bearer in the family of the princess, her sister, being the
quaker-nurse of her nephew, who had been given the offices
of breakfast-woman and dry-nurse, after he had been weaned;
nothing, however, could satisfy her. She would be mistress
over every body, and would complain of every indiridual to
the lady governess, (Fitzharding,) who was heard to say,
" that if the quakeress Pack was a year longer at court, she
would be too much for all there," Lady Fitzharding soon
found out that this woman had insinuated herself into fa
vour with the queen, and particularly -vrith the ladies who
were not on friendly terms with the princess Anne, and
busied herself -vrith carrying tales out of the estabUshment
at Campden and Berkeley-houses to her majesty. Such con
duct was inconvenient to lady Fitzharding, who had under
taken the same office, but thought it safest to play a doubles
game. The queen. In course of time, gave Mrs. Pack's hus
band a place in the Custom-house, The quakeress-nurse,
finding that her practices were suspected, requested to re
tire, under plea of Ul-health, The princess Anne consented,
and gave her an annuity of 40Z. per annum. Scarcely had
the nurse retfred from the healthy afr of Kensington to
Deptford, when she caught the smaUpox. Whilst she re
mained very IU, the duke of Gloucester sent every day to
hear how she was. None of the household at Campden-
house had the least Idea of her danger. One morning the
duke of Gloucester was asked, "Whether he should send,
as usual, to know how his nurse was?" — "No," he said,
"for she is dead." "How do you know, sfr?" asked his
attendant. " That is no matter," replied the young duke ;
"but I am sure she is dead." Mrs. Wanley, one of his
women, then observed " that the young duke had told her
yesterday, that he knew Pack would die next day." The
chUd was right ; his nurse actuaUy died just before the dis
cussion took place. This coincidence occasioned no Uttle
consternation in his household, for they said it was physi-

430 " MAEY IL
cally impossible that the child, or any one else, could have
been informed of the fact by natural means. The young
duke was taken to risit his aunt, queen Mary, next day.
Perhaps her majesty had heard this marvellous tale, for
she led the way to it, by asking him, " If he were sorry
to hear that his nurse was dead?" The child repUed, " No,
madam." And this most unsatisfactory reply was aU the
queen could elicit from her little nephew on the subject.
Mrs. Atkinson succeeded the quakeress-nurse in her offices.
" She was," says Lewis Jenkins, " niece to my good coun
trywoman, Mrs, Butt,' who had the honour to see how the
princess Anne was fed when a child,"
The issue of a new coinage engaged the attention of
the queen's government in this summer. So much had the
coin been debased in her reign, that good Caroluses or
Jacobuses passed for thirty shUlings cash. The cfrculation In
England was greatly injured by base guineas, coined in Hol
land. The heads of the two regnant sovereigns were im
pressed on the new coins, — ^not Uke PhUip and Mary looking
into each other's faces, but in the more elegant manner of
one profile appearing beyond the other. PhUip Rotler, one
of the artists patronised by James IL, had positively refused
to work for WiUiam and Mary. His son, Norbert Rotier, was
not so scrupulous. In 1694 he was employed in designing
some dies for the copper coinage and a medal, charged with
the double profile, and Britannia on the reverse, when it
was discovered that WiUiam's head bore an impertinent
likeness to that of a satyr; and this circumstance made a
great noise, and was foUowed by the report that James II.
was concealed in Rotier's house in the Tower. Norbert Rotier,
finding himself an object of suspicion, retfred to France,''
The queen had anxiously expected her husband from
' This is, perhaps, the same name as Buss, who is mentioned in the Clarendon
Diary as nurse to the princess Anne. According to Lewis Jenkins, she had the
office of keeper of the privy-purse to the princess.
^ WTiere he designed several medals for tho chevaUer St. George. He was
succeeded in his office by Harris, the player, an unworthy favourite of the
duchess of Cleveland, who was ignorant ol the art, — ^Finc Arts of (Jreat Britain,
by Taylor,

MAEY IL 431
HoUand throughout the latter part of October and the
begiiming of November : he was detained by the French
fleet. He arrived, however, at Margate on the 12th of
November: his queen met him at Rochester, and they
traveUed safely to Kensington,' The king opened his par
liament next day. After voting thanks to the queen for her
courage and firm administration, the parliament proceeded
to impeach her favourite prime-minister, then duke of
Leeds, for the infamous corruption of his government;
likevrise sfr John Trevor, the late speaker, for receiring
bribes himself, and for distributing them in the house of
commons. In the course of these Inquiries the names of
her majesty's Immediate attendants, if not her o-wn, were
compromised. The foUovring passage on this head is ab
stracted from the scanty details preserved In the journals of
the house of lords. Sfr Thomas Cooke, the chafrman, had
sent a bribe on the part of the East-India company to the
lord president of queen Mary's cablnet-councU, (the mar
quess of Carmai-then,*) by sir BasU Firebrass, which gen
tleman further deposed, "That they found great stops in
the charters, which they apprehended proceeded, sometimes
from my lord Nottingham, the queen's lord chamberlain, and
sometimes from others; that colonel Fitzpatriok received
one thousand guineas on the same terms as the others, on
condition that the charter passed; that he pretended great
iaterest with lord Nottingham, and that he could get infor
mation from the lady Derby [mistress of the robes] how the
queen's pleasure was?"^ Lord Nottingham, the same depo
nent declared, "rejected a bribe of five thousand guineas
indignantly." It is found that colonel Fitzpatriok died
soon after the queen; no one, therefore, could ascertain
whether he had been calumniated, or whether he had him
self insinuated calumnies on her majesty and her mistress
• Ealph's History, vol. u. p. 535.
^ Formerly lord Danby, afterwards marquess of Carmarthen, then duke of
Leeds. The passage is from ParUamentary Debates in England, printed 1739;
vol. ui. p. 23.
' ParUamentary Debates in England, printed 1739, vol. iu. p. 23.

432 MAEY II.
of the robes. All that need be said on this head is, that
queen Mary, in her letters, displays no tendency to any
unrighteous acquisition of the pubUc money. The fatal
iUness under which her majesty succumbed Immediately
after the parUamentary Inquiries on this head, — which com
menced in the house of commons on the king's return, —
at once interrupted the examination, and spared the queen
the confusion of finding proved the foul deeds of which her
ministers were capable. The long-disputed blU, limiting
parUaments to three years' duration, was brought in the
same autumn : it did not seem more palatable to the elective
king and queen than to thefr predecessors.
WhUst these troubles and disgraces were impending, a
disaster occurred which greatly agitated and distressed queen
Mary. She was at WhitehaU chapel, November 24, when
the serrice suddenly ceased : archbishop TiUotson, who was
officiating before her majesty, was sUenced vrith a stroke of
paralysis; he never spoke again, but died a few days after
wards. Archbishop TiUotson had grown excessively fat and
corpulent at the time of his death. Not-withstanding his
florid and exuberant condition of person, his friends con
sidered that his Ufe had been shortened by the sorrow and
dejection which his elevation had brought on him.' Just
as archbishop TiUotson expfred, a lady came into the apart
ment where her majesty was sitting, and said, she beUeved
"that all the dignified clergy had come to court that day,
to show themselves." The queen replied, " There is one I
am sure Is absent, which Is the dean of Canterbury." Some
of the company observed, " that not one was missing." A
lady of the queen's household, who knew dean Hooper, went
out to see ; she returned and said, " He is not there." —
" No," repUed the queen, " I can answer for him. I knew
he was not there."
' Life of TiUotson. There were found in the possession of archbishop
TiUotson numerous letters, containing the most furious threats against his Ufe,
and reviUngs of his character; he had endorsed these words on the packets, "I
have read these letters, I thank God calmly, and may the writers forgive them
selves as easUy as I forgive them."

MAEY II. 433
AU trifles make a strong impression when connected with
unexpected death : superstition Is at such times very active.
It will be remembered that Dr, Hooper had declared
to queen Mary, that the great walnut-tree which kept the
people from seeing her when she sojourned at his deanery
at Canterbury, should be cut down; by a curious accident,
it was feUed at the very moment of TiUotson's death, who,
as the story goes, had planted it with his own hand when he
was dean of Canterbury,'
Agam was queen Mary made responsible in the eyes of
aU England for the choice of the primate of the English
church; once more it fell on a man who had not been
educated In Its creed : this was Dr, Tennison, who was soon
after raised to the archbishopric of Canterbury. The nomi
nation did not please all queen Mary's courtiers; among
others lord Jersey, the brother of EUzabeth VUUers. He
feminded her majesty, " that Dr. Tennison had been much
contemned for preaching a funeral sermon, and at the same
time pronouncing a high panegyric over a woman so infa
mous as Nell Gwynne, for the lucre of fifty pounds, which
that person had provided for the purpose in her wUl."
Queen Mary showed more discomposure of countenance at
this remonstiance than she ever betrayed before on any
occasion, " What then ! " she replied, after a pause of great
confusion, " No doubt the poor woman was severely peni
tent, or, I am sure, by the good doctor's looks, he would
have said nothing in her praise,"^ Queen Mary might have
defended Dr, Tennison far better, by mentioning his conduct
of Christian heroism in Cambridge during the horrors of the
plague, when he acted both as physician and clergyman :
she knew It not, or she would have urged so noble a plea.
Her wishes reaUy were, that Dr. StiUingfleet should be pro-
' Hooper MS.; but a walnut-tree of thfrty or tlifrty-three years' growth
could not have been a large one.
' Bio. Brit. Mistress NeUy was in the enjoyment of 1500Z. per annum, which
had been secm-ed to her by James II. — Clarendon Diary, Appendix, p. 654. It
is said, that out of gratitude she turned papist, but recanted when times changed,
or queen Mary would not have entered on her defence. NeUy had left fifty
pounds for her funeral sermon. Dr. Tennison's panegyric, when earning thi
sum, caused no little scandal on the clerical character.
VOL, VII, r F

434 MAEY it.
moted to the primacy.' King William's nomination of Dr.
Tennison was induced by his controversial sermons against
the Roman-catholics. He had been bred as a physician, and
practised as such in the time of Cromwell.
The queen, for many days, could not mention TiUotson
-vrithout tears ; the king was likewise much affected by his
death. Indeed, since her majesty had vritnessed the primate's
mortal stroke, she had neither appeared well, nor In spfrits.
The royal pafr were residing at Kensington-palace, -vrith the
intent to pass the Christmas in retirement, when the queen
became seriously indisposed on the 19th of December, She
took some slight remedies, and declared herself weU the next
day. The remedy thus mentioned was a noxious spirituous
cordial, that the queen usually took In large doses when
Ul, against which her faithful physician, Dr, Walter Harris,
affirms^ he had vainly warned her, explaining to her that it
was many degrees stronger, and more heating, than the usual
strength of brandy; and that such draughts, for a persoh
of her corpulence and sanguiferous complexion, were like to
be fatal, in case of eruptive diseases. After swaUowing this
stimulant, it can scarcely excite surprise that her iUness
returned in the course of a few hours, "The next day,"
says Burnet,^ " which was the 20th of December, she went
abroad, but could not disguise being IU," How truly the
queen anticipated the result, may be found from her conduct
and employment. She sat up nearly aU that night in her
cabmet, burning and destroying papers, on which she did not
wish the pubUc, at any future time, to pass judgment,
Burnet praises this action, as one of great consideration
towards "people whom these papers would have committed,
' Burnet's MS., Harleian CoUection, 6584.
' Dr. Harris's Letter on Queen Mary's Case of SmaUpox united with
Measles. It is a warning against the heating system of treating smallpox: this
salutary remonstrance saved myriads of Uves afterwards. The physician attri
butes the fatal termination of Mary's iUness to her spirituous cordial, which,
against the advice of Dr. Harris, was her specific in all cases of indisposition.
Once or twice previously, he says, it had nearly destroyed her : he supposes she
took a double dose of it after her relapse, and thus her case was rendered utterly
desperate, „ „ '
« Bmmet's MS., Hai-leian CoU,

MAEY n. 435
if seen after she was no more." Queen Mary was certainly
anxious that these documents should not commit her me
mory, and took a sure way of depriring biographers of them.
Yet by those which remain, dark mysterious surmises are
raised regarding the portentous nature of those destroyed.
What state secrets were those which could induce her to
keep a solitary vigil in her closet at Kensington in a Decem
ber night, and, vrith death In her veins, devote herself to the
task, at once agitating and fatiguing, of examining and de-
sfroylng important papers ? What thoughts, what feeUngs,
must have passed through the brain of queen Mary on that
awful night, thus alone — ^vrith her past life, and with ap
proaching death ! Strange contrast between an unfortunate
father and a fortunate daughter : James II. preserved every
document which could cast light on his conduct, valuing
thefr preservation before life itself;' Mary II. destroyed all
in her power which could give the stamp of certainty to her
personal history. The queen finished her remarkable occu
pations on that night by writing a letter to her husband on
the subject of Elizabeth Villiers, which she endorsed, "Not
to be deUvered, excepting in case of my death," and locked
it in an ebony cabinet, in which she usuaUy kept papers of
consequence. As might have been anticipated, queen Mary was exceed
ingly indisposed on the day succeeding these agitating rigils.
Her disorder was, however, some two or three days after
wards, supposed to be only the measles, and great hopes were
entertained of her recovery; but on the identity of her
malady her physicians could not agree, — ^Dr. RadcUffe de
claring that she would have the measles, and Dr. MUlington
the smaUpox,* Bumet affirms, that the fatal tum of her
malady was ovring to Dr, RadcUffe, In remarkable words,
which are not to be found in his printed history, as foUows :
"I wiU not enter into another province, nor go out of my
> There can be little doubt that the box which James risked his Ufe to prS-
serve when the Gloucester was sinking, contained his memoirs as far as they
were written, and the vouchers on which they were founded,
2 Ralph's History, p. 539,
r F 2

486 MAEY n.
own profession,'' says Burnet's IMS., "and so will say no
more of the physieian's part but that it was universally i\n».
demned; so that tho queen's death was imputed to the
unskUfuluess and wilfulness of Dr. IvndoliHV, an impious and
ricious man, who hated the queen much, but virtue and
religion more. He was a piiifessed Jacobite, and was by
many thought a very bad physioiau ; bnt others cried him
up to tho highest degree imaginable. Ho was called for, and
it appeared but too evidently his opinion was dt-peuded on.
Other physicians were ealltnl wheii it was too lato : all sv)up-
toms were bad, yet still the queen felt herself well."' Rad-
clifle's mistake was, taking tho smallpox foi' the nieasles; but
this is an idle charge, since the proper treatment fur the one
ernptive disease would by no uunius render the other moi'tal,
The truth was, the queen was full and lu,i-ge it» person, so)n&>
Avhat addicted to good living, both iu i-t^ganl to food and
wine; she likewise drank rieli chocolate at bod-tinvo. Small
pox, and even measles, are dani;-i-i"Ous visitations to patients
of thii-ty-t\>i> with similar habits. I\'or is Dr, Ivadeliffe
answerable for tho qneen's high-fed condition and luxurious
habits, as he was not her household physieian,* and therefore
not bound by his Unties to gi\o atlvice in regard to dietavy
temperauee. Tho domestic physieiaus were the traitors, who
had failed to counsel the queen on the rt^gulation of her
appetites. AA'hilo this desperate malady was dealing -with the queen,
her sister, the princess xVnne, and her nn\bilious favourite,
lady Marlborough, were startled from tho torpor they had
long sutVered at Berkeley-honse, into a state of feverish ex-
peetation of tho sudden importance which would aecnie to
thorn if hor majesty's illness proved fatal. The princess
Anne was then in a dubious stale of health herself, for drop.
» So written. ISiuni't's MS., Uaitoiim, G634
° Dr, RndcUflb was wMialdorml tlie moat akilfttl iihysii'um of hia day. Ho
really wiis a Jiicobiti" x ho atiendtxl tJio ii'voliidmiiirv sovi>vt'ipia very HnwilU«s;',V.
mid sliulioil tu plnguo thi>m with vi'Mitious TOjiarteiia, Ki-vt^rtheUw, they nil l"-
eisti'cl OH roceiviug hia uiodieiil naaistiMUHi. llo h«a Imeu seimviitely hliuni'il tiff
kiUinj;- qnnon Mary, king WiUiiim, the dnko of Glouwster, niul ijUWU AlUlO,
cither li,v hia iittondauco or liU non-iittwuliiuoo.

MAEY ii; 437
sical maladies impaired her constitution. She flattered her
self with hopes of an increase to her family ; in consequence,
she confined herself to the house, and passed the day con
stantly reclining on a couch,' Thus the princess was pre
vented by the infirmity of her health from risiting the sick
bed of her sister, from whose chamber there is every reason
to believe she woidd have been repulsed. Although queen
Mary was in a very doubtful state on the morning of the
33nd of December, king WilUam left Kensington, and gave
his royal assent In the house of lords to the important bUl
for passing triennial parliaments. It Is supposed his fore
sight led him to this measure; since, in the case of the
queen's death, and the consequent weakening of his title to
the crown, he could not have yielded this concession with
equal dignity,*
No regular intercourse took place between the palace at
Kensington and Berkeley-house, and all the intelligence of
whatever passed In either household was conveyed by the
ex-official tattling of servants of the lower grade : laundresses
questioned nurses, or ushers carried the tales thus gathered.
AU was in the dark at the princess's establishment as late as
Christmas-day, o.s., respecting the malady of the queen,
when Lewis Jenkins was sent to obtain information of Mrs.
Worthlngton, the queen's laundress, regarding how her
majesty ready was. The news thus gained was, however, by
no means correct. "As I loved the queen much," says Levris
Jenkins, "I was transported with hearing she had rested
well that night, and that she had not the smaUpox, but the
measles. The queen was much beloved. She had found
the means of pleasing the people by her obliging deportment,
and had, besides, the command of plenty of money to give
away, which proved a powerful persuasive with many for
loring her. I went into the duke of Gloucester's bedcham
ber, where I threw up my hat, and said, ' O be joyful !' The
ladies asked me ' what I meant ?' I, then related the good
news; and the Uttle duke said, 'I am glad of it, with aU my
» Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 105.
s Ealph's History, p. 535.

438 MAEY II.
heart !' But the next day, when I went to inqufre at the
palace after the queen, I was informed ' that, in consequence
of being let blood, the smaUpox had turned black, and that
her majesty's death drew near, for nature was prevented
from working her course.' I was this day in waiting, and
talking over the Ul news with Mrs. Wanley, one of the Uttle
duke of Gloucester's women. In a low tone, imagining that
the child could not hear our conversation, as he was playing
-vrith George Wanley. His highness suddenly exclaimed, ' 0
be joyful !' I hearing this, asked him ' where he learnt that
expression?' — 'Lewis, you know,' said bis highness. 'Sir,'
said I, ' yesterday I cried, O be joyful !' — 'Yes,' rejoined the
queen's nephew; 'and now, to-day, you may sing, 0 be
doleful !' which I wondered to hear.'"
The danger of the queen being thus matter of notoriety
throughout the corridors and servants' offices of Campden
and Berkeley-houses, the princess Anne thought it time to
send a lady of her bedchamber -vrith a message, entreating
her majesty "to beUeve that she was extremely concerned
for her illness; and that if her majesty would aUow her the
happiness of waiting on her, she would, notvrithstanding the
condition she was in, run any hazard for her satisfaction,"
This message was deUvered to the queen's first lady, being
lady Derby, who went Into the royal bedchamber and deU
vered It to her majesty. A consultation took place. After
some time, lady Derby came out again, and repUed to the
messenger of the princess Anne, " that the king would send
an answer the next day," Had the queen wished to be re
concUed to her sister, there was thus opportunity, for this
message was sent some time before her death. No kind
famUiar answer was returned from the dying queen to her
sister, but the foUowing formal court notation, from the first
lady of her majesty to the lady of the princess :^ —
" Madam,
" I am commanded by the king and queen to teU you, they desire you would
let the princess know they both thank her for sending and desiring to come;
' Lewis Jenkins' History : Tracts, Brit. Museum.
" Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough.

MAEY II, 439
bnt it bang thought so necessary to keep the queen as qmet as possible, hope she
wiU defer it. I am, madam, your ladyship's most humble servant, " E. Deebt.
" P.S. — Pray, madam, present my humble duty to the princess."
The unusual civiUty of the postscript astonished the Uttle
court at Berkeley-house. The deductions drawn from it
were prophetical of the fatal termination of the queen's Ul
ness, but not a single expression indicative of human feeUng
or yearning kindness towards the sufferer is recorded by lady
Marlborough as falUng from the princess Anne, whether such
were the case or not. The poUteness of lady Derby's post
script, who had been preriously remarked for her Insolence
to the princess, "made us conclude," observes lady Marl
borough, " more than if the whole coUege of physicians had
pronounced it, that her disease was mortal."
Many persons, and even some indiriduals belonging to the
household of the princess, were aUowed to see the queen in
her sick chamber ; therefore it was concluded, that deferring
the proposed risit of the princess was only to leave room for
continuing the quarrel in case the queen should chance to
recover, whUe, at the same time, it left a possibiUty "of a poU
tical reconciUation vrith the king in case of her majesty's
death.' Such were the surmises and proceedings at Ber
keley-house whde death, every hour, approached nearer to
queen Mary. The king certainly despafred of his consort's
life, "for the next day, (December 26,)" says Bumet, "he
caUed me into his closet, and gave a free vent to the most
tender passions. He burst into tears, and cried out aloud
'that, from being the happiest, he was going to be the most
miserable creature on the earth;' adding, 'that, during thefr
whole wedlock, be had never known one single fault In his
queen. There was, besides, a worth in her that nobody knew
besides himself, though / [Bumet] might know as much of
her as any other person did.' "
As the queen's Ulness fiuctuated, the princess Anne and
lady Marlborough became ungovernably agitated -with thefr
hopes and fears; and as they could obtain no inteUigence
which they could tmst, they at last resolved to despatch lady
» Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough, p. 106.

440 MAEY II.
Fitzharding to Kensington-palaoe, where she undertook to
see the queen and speak to her. Accordingly, charged
-with a dutifiil message to her majesty, the lady Fitzharding
"broke in," whether the queen's attendants "would or not;"
and approaching the bed where her majesty was, made
her speech, to express "In how much concern the princess
Anne was." The dying Mary gasped out, "Thanks," and
the lady went back to her princess with a report that her
kind message had been very coldly received.' Lady Fitz
harding had means of knowing the private feeUngs of the
queen towards the princess, because her majesty was sur
rounded by the brothers and sisters of that lady. The real
¦ ;endency of the mind of the king, as weU as that of the
queen, was likevrise known to lady Fitzharding through the
communication of her sister Elizabeth, his mistress ; and if
we may credit the testimony of the Marlborough, she re
ported that her majesty was most inimical to the princess
Anne to her last gasp. Without giving too much beUef to a
vritness of lady Marlborough's disposition, it may be ob
served that the whole bearings of the case tend to the same
conclusion. Another contemporary lady of the household
affirms, that the queen "was sinking fast into unconscious
ness when lady Fitzharding forced herself into her bedcham-i
her, and that the single word she spoke was indeed all she
was able to utter."
The face of the queen was covered vrith the most violent
erysipelas the Friday before her death. Dr. Walter Harris,
who sat up with the queen from the seventh night of her
iUness, in his letter extant describing her symptoms of the
dreadful martyrdom she suffered, attributes these terrific
eruptions to the hot doses she swaUowed on the first attack
of the disease. A frightful carbuncle settled just over the
heart; and smallpox pustules, which he compares to the
plague-spots, are mentioned by him, vrith other erils which
the queen endured too terrible for general perusal. When
these alarming indications appeared, her physicians de
clared to her husband that there remained no hopes of her
' Conduct of tiie Duchess of Marlborough, p, 107.

MAEY IL 441
hfe. He received the intelUgence with every sign of des
pair. He ordered his camp-bed to be brought Into the
chamber of his dying consort, and remained with her night
and day, whde she struggled between life and death. It is
possible that he was desfrous of preventing any thing that
she might say respecting the events of her past life. Our
authority, however, declares that his demeanour was most
affectionate, and that " although greatly addicted to the plea
sures of eating, he never tasted food during three succes
sive dreadful days.'" He stified the noise of his asthmatic
cough so effectually, that the queen, now and then starting
fi-om her lethargic doze, asked " where the Idng was ? for she
did not hear his cough." ^ "When the desperate condition
of her majesty," says Burnet, "became erident to aU around
her, archbishop Tennison told the king that he could not
do his duty faithfully, without he acquainted her with her
danger. The king approved of it, and said, 'that whatever
effect it might have, he woidd not have her deceived in so
important a matter.' The queen anticipated the communi
cation of the archbishop, but showed no fear or disorder
upon it. She said ' she thanked God she had always carried
this In her mind, that nothing was to be left to the last
hour : she had nothing then to do, but to look up to God
and submit to his vriU.' She said ' that she had wrote her
mind on many things to the king;' and she gave orders to
look carefully for a small escritoire she made use of that
was in her closet, which was to be deUvered to the king.
Haring despatched that care, she avoided giring herself or
her husband the tenderness which a final parting might have
raised in them both." When it Is remembered, that the
casket the queen was thus careful to have put into his hands
contained the letter of complaint and reproof written by her
at the time of her memorable vigU In her cabinet at Ken
sington, it is difficult to consider that Mary died on friendly
' Inedited Prenob MS., in the BibUothfeque du Eoi, of which the above is a
translation. No. 1715.
^ True and Secret History of the Kings and Queens of England, by a
Pei-son of Honour, Prom the Ubrary of his royal highness tho late duke of
Sussex,

443 MAEY II.
terms with her husband, or that her refusal to bid him fare
weU proceeded from tenderness, " The day before she died,"
continues Bumet, " she received the sacrament : aU the
bishops who were attending were permitted to receive it with
her, — God knows, a sorrowful company, for we were losing
her who was our chief hope and glory on earth."' "The
queen, after receiring the sacrament, composed herself so
lemnly to die ; she slumbered some time, but said that she
was not refreshed by it, and that nothing did her good but
prayer. She tried once or t-vrice to say something to the
king, but could not go through with it. She laid sUent for
some hours, and then some words came from her, which
showed that her thoughts began to break." ^ The queen's
mind, in fact, wandered very wildly the day before she ex
pfred. The hallucinations with which she was disturbed
were dreary, and the nature of them certainly indicates that
somewhat remained on her mind, of which she had not
spoken. Her majesty mysteriously requfred to be left alone
¦with archbishop Tennison, as she had something to teU him,
and her chamber was cleared In consequence. The arch
bishop breathlessly expected some extraordinary communica
tion. The dying queen said, "I -vrish you to look behind
that screen, for Dr, RadcUffe has put a popish nurse upon
me, and that woman is always listening to what I want to
say. She lurks behind that screen; make her go away.
That woman Is a great disturbance to me."^
The popish nurse, which the queen fancied that her Jacob
ite physician, Dr, RadcUffe, had "put upon her," was but
an unreal phantom, the coinage of her wandering brain.
Her father's friends, who were more numerous in her palace
than she was aware of, fancied that, instead of describing
» Burnef s History of His Own Tunes. This writer (or his interpoktor) slurs
over the circumstance of the queen's departure without reconciUation with her
sister. Sarah of Marlborough's testimony is, we think, better deserring beUef,
because her words are supported by circumstantial detaU and documents. She
asserts " that queen Mary departed in enmity to her sister; that no message was
sent to the princess." Moreover, in three several versions of the queen's death
among Bumet's MSS., Harleian CoUection, Brit. Museum, the passage docs not
occur; neither is the name of the princess mentioned in the course of them.
' Burnet. ' Ealph, vol. U. p. 540.

iLAEY n. 443
this spectre to archbishop Tennison, she was confessing
her fiUal sins to him. A contemporary of queen Mary
uses these remarkable words, when mentioning the inter
riew : " But whether she had any scruples relating to her
father, and they made part of her discourse with Tennison,
amd that arch-divine took upon his own soul the pressures
vi'hich, in these weak unguarded moments, might weigh
upon hers, must now remain a secret unto the last day.'
The story, however, of the phantom-nurse that perplexed
queen Mary's last moments, was told by archbishop Tennison
himself to the historian, bishop White Kennet,"
It was supposed, on the Sunday evening, that the queen
was about to expire, which information was communicated
to the king, who fell fainting, and did not recover for half
an hour : that day he had swooned thrice. Many of his
attendants thought that he would die the first,^ Queen
Mary breathed her last, between night and morning, on
the 28th of December, 1694,^ in the sixth year of her reign,
and the thfrty-thfrd of her age. The moment the breath
left her body, the lord chanceUor commanded the great
seal to be broken, and another made on which the figure
of WiUiam III, was Impressed solus.'^
A Roman-cathoUc priest,^ who was a spy of the Jacobites,
had been roaming round Kensington, watching for intelU
gence during the awful three days while Mary II, struggled
between Ufe and death. He had the opportunity of receiv
ing the earUest news of her demise, probably from lord
Jersey, who was secretly of Ids reUgion, The priest departed
before dawn on the night of the queen's death; he meant
1 MS. in the BibUotheque du Eoi, Paris, No. 1715. « Ibid.
' This is old style. The Prench date her death January 7, 1695.
¦* MS. of the BibUotheque du Eoi. The great seal of "WUham and Mary
represents them enthroned, sitting with an altar between them; upon it is
resting the globe of sovereignty, on which they each place a hand. In the
reverse, London is represented in the back-ground; but it is old London before
the fire, for old St. Paul's is very clearly represented, and, to make the matter
stranger, the monument is introduced. Mary and WiUiam are equestrian
figures tiiicrowned; he is Uke a Roman emperor, in profile, whUe the queen
turns her face fuU on him. Her hair is dressed high in front, and streams over
the shoulder before her : she is represented whoUy without ornament.
' Dangeau vol. iu. p. 512.

444 MAEY II.
to take his speediest course to St. Germains, but he feU
IU of a riolent fever at AbberiUe, probably the result of his
nocturnal perambulations in Hyde-park or Kensington-gar
dens In December. This intelUgencer of Mary's demise
himself remained between life and death for three days.
At last he recovered sufficiently to despatch a messenger to
James II. at St. Germains, who sent, forthwith, one of his
gentlemen to hear his tidings.'
The report of the iUness of Mary II. had been current in
France for several days, but in the absence of authentic
intelligence aU sorts of rumours prevaUed; among others,
" that she had recovered, and that WUUam III. was dead,"
The right version of the tidings spread over France when
king James's messenger returned from the priest's sick-bed
at AbbevIUe, January 13th, n,s. Madame de Sevigne men
tions these cfrcumstances in her letters, and she gives Mary
II, as an Instance of the transitory nature of all mundane
glories, " She was," says her IUustrious contemporary,
"but thfrty- three; she was beautiful, she was a reigning
queen, and she is dead In three days. But the great news
is, that the prince of Orange (William III.) Is assuredly
very IU; for though the malady of his -wife was contagious,
he never quitted her, and it is the -wIU of God that he
-wUl not quit her long." WiUiam IIL, however, bore on his
face marks which entfrely secured him from any danger
respecting the contagious malady of which his queen died ;
and if he was very ill at the time of her death, his malady
did not arise from the smallpox. When the news was con
firmed of the death of Mary, her father shut himself up
in bis apartments and refused all risits; he observed the
mourning of soUtude and tears, but he would not wear black
for her death.^
James II. likewise sent to Louis XIV. to request him not
to wear mourning for his daughter, and not to order a court-
mourning. Otherwise, as she was so nearly allied to the
king of France, being the grand-daughier of his aunt, this
• An inedited MS. in the BibUotheque du Eoi, in French, marked l715i
* Dangeau, vol. in, p, 512.

MAEY' II 445
order would have appeared, although it would have been a
great absurdity considering the deadly war subsisting, which
seemed more personal than national, between the famdies of
•Orange, Stuart, and Bourbon. Some of the old nobiUty of
France claimed kindred vrith the house of Orange; among
others, were the dukes de BouIUon and Duras, who thought
fit to assume mourning : they were sternly commanded by
Louis XIV, "to put It off,'" The duke de St. Simon
blames the royal order as a petty vengeance. This acute
observer Is among the few writers who do justice to the
great abdltles of Mary in government; at the same time,
he bears the testimony of a contemporary, "that she was
much more bitter against her father than was her husband."
The conduct of James II. was Influenced by the horror
which he felt at ascertaining that his once-beloved chdd
had expired without any message or expression of sor
row and regret at the sufferings which she had been the
means of causing him. He observes, "that many of his
partisans fancied that her death would pave the way for
his restoration," but he made no additional efforts on that
account; indeed he says, "the event only caused him the
additional affiiction of seeing a chdd, whom he loved so
tenderly, persevere to her death in such a signal state of
disobedience and disloyalty, and to find her extoUed for
crimes as if they were the highest vfrtues by the mer
cenary flatterers around her. Even archbishop Tennison
reckoned among her -vfrtues," adds king James, "that
she had got the better of aU duty to her parent in con
sideration of her reUgion and her country; and that, even
If she had done aught blameworthy, she had acted by the
adrice of the most learned men in the church, who were
answerable for it, not she."^ When kuig James heard
this reported speech, he cried out, " Oh, miserable way of
arguing 1 fatal to the deceiver and to the deceived. Yet
by this very saying, she discovered both her semple and
her apprehension." He declared himself "much afflicted
1 Dangeau, vol. ui. p. 512, and St. Sunon, vol. i. p. 255.
2 Memoirs of James IL, edited by Stanier Clark.

440 MARY IL
at her death, and more at her manner of dying;" and
affirmed, "that both his children had lost all bowels of
compassion for him; for the princess of Demnark, not*
withstanding her professions and late repentance, now ap.
peared to be satisfied with the prince of Orange, (WiUiam
IIL). Though he had used her IU, and usurped her right,
yet she preferred that he should remain, rather than her
father, who had always cherished her beyond expresaion,
should be restored," '
Archbishop Tennison delivered to the king the deceased
queen's posthumous letter, together with a reproving message
she had confided to him. At the same time, he took the
liberty of adding a severe lecture to his majesty on the sub
ject of his gross misconduct in regard to EUzabeth VilUers,
The king took this freedom In good part, and solemnly pro
mised the archbishop to break off all intimacy with her.
The queen's letter expressed to her husband the great pain
which his connexion with her rival had always given her,'
True to the personal forbearance which is a remarkable
feature in her conjugal life, she never complained, or told
the pangs she suffered from jealousy, till after her own death
had taken place ; but whether she could be considered to
expire in perfect peace and forgiveness to her husband when
she left written reproaches, exposing him at the same time
to the schooling of a stranger' of rude manners on so delicate
a subject, is matter for consideration.
It ought to be reckoned among the other pains and penal
ties of William IIL, that he was subjected to the admoni'-
tions and exhortations of the dissenting-bred clergy whom
he had placed in the wealthiest church preferments, he
haring avowedly not the best opinion of their disinterested
ness of conversion. For Burnet he always manifested loath-
' Memoirs of James TL, edited by Stanier Clai-k,
» Shrewsbury MSS,, edited by Coxe.
* That archbishop Tennison wns ¦¦ personal stranger both to tho king and
queen, is especially noticed by Burnet, Tennison's appointment had been «o
recent, on the death of bis predecessor, oi-chbishop Tillotson, that when he
officiated at the (jiicon'o death-bed, it was tho fli-at tiiuo ho had oolivorsod with
either.

MAEY IL 447
ing, which was uncontrollable, — a feeling in which, we have
seen by her letters, his lost queen fuUy participated. Bumet,
nevertheless, was among the most active of his lecturers on
the subject of future good behariour, and, -vrith infinite self-
satisfaction, notes the result. " King WiUiam began then
the custom, which he has observed ever since very exactly,
of going to prayers twice a-day; he entered upon very
sdemn and serious resolutions of becoming, in all things, an
exact Christian, and of breaking off aU bad practices what
soever. He expressed a particular regard to all the Queen's
inclinations and intentions. He resolved to keep up her
famdy.'" Such declaration need not excite astonishment:
the "famdy" Burnet means, consisted, not of the queen's
near relatives of the exded royal house, but merely of her
household servants; and if the duchess of Marlborough is
to be believed, the king afterwards grumbled excessively at
paying them the pensions he had promised in the height of
these his weU-behaved resolutions.
" I confess," pursues Burnet, " that my hopes are so sunk
^th the queen's death, that I do not flatter myself -with
fiirther expectations. If things can be kept In tolerable
order, so that we have peace and quiet in our days, I dare
look for no more. So black a scene of Proridence as is now
upon us, gives me many dismal apprehensions," ^ As to any
reconcdlatlon of the princess Anne vrith the queen, it is
improbable that Burnet beUeved it took place, since the
Harleian contains three different copies of the queen's death
from the bishop's pen; and although he speaks as an eye-
vritness from beginning to end, he mentions not the name of
the princess therein. Indeed, the odd and maladroit manner
in which that assertion Is introduced into the printed history,
many pages after its natural date, gives the whole incident a
very suspicious aspect. The words are thmst among the
current events far into the year 1695 ; they are a-propos to
nothing connected with chronological order, and are as fol
lows : " The queen, when she was dying, had received a kind
message from, and had sent a reconcding message to, the
' Harleian MS., 6584. « Burnet's MS., Harleian Collection.

448 MAEY n.
princess, so that breach was made up. 'Tis true the sisters
did not meet; 'twas thought that might throw the queen
into too great a commotion.'"
T^Tdle preparations were being made for the queen's fune
ral, a great number of elegies and odes were -written in
praise of her majesty. But poetic talent, excepting In the
line of lampoons, was very scarce among the revolution
ary party; and as the elegies excited either laughter or
contempt, the pubUc press of the day indulged in fiirious
abuse of Dryden, because no panegyric on the queen ap
peared from his pen. " It is difficult," observes sfr Walter
Scott,^ "to conceive in what manner the deprived poet-
laureate of the unfortunate James could have treated the
memory of his master's daughter." He granted her, at least
on that occasion, the mercy of his sUence. Dryden was,
however, appealed to, in order to decide " which of the nu
merous efluslons to the memory of queen Mary was the
best ? " — " Bad was the best," was the very natural answer
of one of the classical poets of England; but being pressed
to pronounce a more distinctive verdict, he said, " that the
ode by the duke of Devonshfre ' was the best." Among the
royal elegies were included some perpetrations in the pathetic
line by the hard, sarcastic proffigates. Prior, Congreve, and
Svrift.* Sfr Walter Scott suspects that the ducal strains
' Burnef s Own Times, edition 1823, with Dartmouth's, Onslow's, and Hard-
wicke's Notes, voL iv. p. 157. ' Life of Dryden,
' " Its memory,-" says sir "Walter, " only survives in an almost equally
obscure fimeral poem to the memory of WiUiam duke of Devonshire, in wMdi
these lines occur : —
" 'Twas so when the destroyer's dreadful dart
Once pierced through ours to isur Maria's heart.
Prom his state helm then some short hours he stol^
T" indulge his melting eyes and bleeding soul,
Wliilst his bent knees to those remains divine,
P^d their last oflering to that royal shrine."
No wonder that sir Walter Scott suspected the merits of the Devonshire tribute,
after quoting this abstract of its contents from some writer ol less talent than
his grace. The duke of Devonsliire was, at that time, one of the state-ministers,
and had always formed one among the councU of nine.
' Swift was at that time an expectant of place and profit fixim William IH.,
under the patronage of sir WilUam Temple.

MAEY IL 449
were in reaUty the worst, but they eluded his research.
They exist at length in the Harleian coUection, and prove
that Dryden spoke as an honest critic, for they are far supe
rior to the professional poetry pubUshed on the occasion.
They preserve, withal, some historical aUusIons; thus, the
queen is given the credit of tears she either shed, or feigned
to shed, at her coronation, although other -witnesses have
recorded dark words which escaped her on that occasion
against her father's life : —
"Ode bx the Dttke op Dbvonshibb on the Death of Maet IL
" Long our divided state.
Hung in the balance of a doubtful fate ;
When one bright nymph the gathering clouds dispeUed,
And aU the griefs of Albion healed.
Her the united land obeyed ;
She knew her task, and nicely understood
To what intention kings are made,—
Not for their own, but for their people's good.
'Twas that prevaUing argument alone
Determined her to fiU the vacant throne.
And with sadness she beheld
A crown devolving on her head.
By the excesses of a prince misled.
When by her royal birth compelled
To what her God and what her country claimed.
Though by a servUe faction blamed.
How graceful were the tears she shed !
When, waiting only for a wind,'
Against our isle the power of Prance was armed.
Her ruling arts in their true lustre shined.
The winds themselves were by her influence charmed ;
Secure and undisturbed the scene
Of Albion seemed, and Uke her eyes serene.
Patal to the fair and young.
Accursed disease ! how long
Have wretehed mothers mourned thy rage,
Eobbed of the hope and comfort of their age ?
' This historical aUusion is to the circumstances of that king's last voyage fi-om
Holland, which are not very creditable to the once-triumphant navy of Great
Britain, especially when joined to the Dutch marine force. " November, Tuesday
16, 1694. The prince of Orange [WilUam IIL] embarked to go to England;
the windxbeat him back twice, but he persevered, and finaUy sailed with a fine
day. His squadron was strongly reinforced, as be had been told that Jean Bart
was w^atching for him." — Memoirs of Dangeau. WiUiam had been waiting all
the month for a passage, lest Jean Bart should intercept him.
VOL. VII. G G

450 MAEY II.
From the unhappy lover's side.
How often hast thou torn the blooming brido ?
Common disasters sorrow raise,
But Heaven's severer frowns amaze.
The queen ! a word, a sound.
Of nations once the hope and firm support.
That name becomes unutterable now ;
The crowds in that dejected court
Where languishing Maria lay.
Want power to ask the news they come to know:
SUent their drooping heads they bow,
Silence itself proclaims the universal woe.
Even Maria's latest care,*
Whom winter's seasons, nor contending Jove,
Nor watchful fleets could from his glorious purpose move.
Now trembles, now he sinks beneath the mighty weight,—
The hero to the man gives way."*
Swift's Pindaric ode on the queen of his supposed patron
exists in the Athenian Oracle : it cannot be worse. In the
Elfe of Sfr WiUiam Temple, supposed to be -written by Swift,
it is asserted " that lady Temple died within a month of her
majesty, out of sheer grief for her loss." A great compli
ment to the queen, but a doubtful one to sfr WilUam Temple,
who surrived his lady.
The queen's memory was iUustrated by an historical sermon
or oration, preached on occasion of her death by Burnet.
These pages cannot, however, be Ulumined from it by words
that glow and burn, such as flowed from the Ups of the
eloquent Bossuet, when the character and misfortunes of
Henrietta Maria were given him for his theme. Bumet's
obituary memorial on Henrietta Maria's grand-daughter
scarcely rises to the level of quaintness, and his disfress
for facts on which to hang his excessive praises makes him
degenerate into queemess ; for after lauding to the utmost
the love of queen Mary II. for sermons, (being perfectly
ignorant of the bitter contempt she had expressed for his
own,) he faUs into the foUowing comical commendations :—
" She gave her minutes of leisure with the greatest wiUingness to architecture
and gardenage. She had a richness of invention, with a happioess of contri."
vance, that had airs in it that were^eer and nobler than what ivas more stiff,
> William III.
' The elegy would extend over many pages : the necessity for brevity obUgcsi
us to present only an abstract, including aU the personal allusions possible.

M.VEY II. 451
thongh it might be more regular. She knew that this drew an expense after it:
she had no incUnations besides this to any diversions that were expenseful, and
since this employed many hands, she was pleased to say, ' that sbe hoped it
would he forgiven her.' Yet she was uneasy when she felt the weight of the
charge that lay upon it."
" The gardenage," that had airs in it " freer than those that
were more stiff," was, at the close of the seventeenth century,
completely on a par -vrith the Dutch architecture perpetrated
by Mary and her spouse. Neither was worth placing in
the Ust of a queen-regnant' s rirtues. Perhaps the foUovring
eulogy may seem not greatly adapted for funeral oratory, yet
it has the advantage of giving a biographer an Insight into
the routine of the pretty behariour and neat sampler way
of Ufe that Mary II, mistook for high Christian vfrtues.
" When her eyes were endangered by reading too much, she
found out the amusement of work," It was no doubt a great
discovery on the part of her majesty, but her bad eyes had
nothing to do -with it, for needle-work, point-stitch, tent-
stitch, tapestry-stitch, and all the other stitches, to say
nothing of matching shades of silks and threading needles,
require better eyesight than reading.
" In aU those hours that were not given to better employment, she wrought
with her own hands ; and sometimes with so constant a dUigence, as if she haiJ
been to earn her bread by it. It was a new thing, and looked like a sight, tt
see a queen work so many hours a-day. She looked on idleness as the great
corruption of human nature, and believed that if the mind had no employment
given it, it would create some of the worst sort to itself; and she thought that
any thing that might amuse and divert, without leaving a dreg and iU impressions
behind it, ought to fill up those vacant hours which were not claimed by devotion
or business. Her example soon wrought on, not only those that belonged to her,
but the whole town to foUow it, so that it became as much the fashion to work,
as it had been formerly to be idle. In this, which seemed a nothing, and was
tomed by some to be the subject of raUlery, a greater step was made than
perhaps every one was aware of towards the bettering of the age. While she
diverted herself thus with work, she took care to give an entertainment to her
own mind, as weU as to those who were admitted to the honour of working
with her ; one was appointed to read to the rest ; the choice was suited to the
time of day and to the employment, — some book or poem that was lively as weU
as instructing. Few of her sex — not to say of her rank — gave ever less time to
dressing, or seemed less curious about it. Those parts which required more
patience were not given up entirely to it."
This sentence is somewhat enigmatical ; Indeed, the whole
sermon woidd prove a useful collection of sentences for those
grammarians, who teach a clear style by the means of ex-
G G 2

452 MAEY II.
posing faulty instances of involved composition. The truth
is, that the man's conscience was at war -vrith his words;
therefore those words became tortuous and contradictory^
He has dared to praise Mary II. for " fiUal piety," knowing,
as he must have done better than any one else, how dif
ferently she had conducted herself. He himself has re
corded, and blamed, her disgusting conduct at her arrival
at Whitehall ; but whether it is true that Mary sat compla
cently to hear this very man grossly calumniate her mother,
rests on the word of lord Dartmouth. There is one cfrcum
stance that would naturaUy invalidate the accusation, which
is, that it was thoroughly against her own interest, — a point
which Mary never lost sight of; for if Anne Hyde was a
faithless -vrife, what reason had her daughter to suppose that
she was a more genuine successor to the British crown than
the unfortunate brother whose birth she had stigmatized?
Nevertheless, the same strain of reasoning holds good against
her encouragement of the UbeUous attacks of the Dutch
polemical writer, Jurieu, on Mary queen of Scots. The
hatred which her revolutionary poUcy caused her to express
for her unfortunate ancestress seems the more unnatural, on
account of the resemblance nature had impressed on both.
Insomuch that the portrait of Mary queen of Scots at Dal
keith bears as strong a likeness to her descendant, Mary IL,
in features, when the latter princess was about eighteen, as if
she had assumed the costume of the sixteenth century, and
sat to the painter. The similarity of the autographs of sig
nature between the two Mary Stuart queens, is Ukevrise very
remarkable. Perhaps the foUowing odd passage in the Bumet pane
gyric, means to affirm that queen Mary IL was unvrilUng to
be praised in public addresses : —
" Here arises an unexampled piece of a character, which may be well begufi
with ; for I am afraid it both begun and will end with her. In most persons, '
even those of the truest merit, a studied management wiU, perhaps, appear with
a little too much varnish : Uke a nocturnal piece that has a light cast through
even the most shaded parts, some disposition to set oneself out, and some satis
faction at being commended, will, at some time or other, show itself more oi
less. Here we may appeal to great multitudes, to all who had the honour to

MAEY II. 453
approach her, and particularly to those who were admitted to the greatest
nearness, if at any one time any thing of this sort did ever discover itself. When
due acknowledgments were made, or decent things said upon occasions that had
weU deserved them, (God knows how frequent these were !) these seemed scarce
to he heard : they were so Uttle desired that they were presently passed over,
without so much as au answer that might seem to entertain the discourse, even
whUe it checked it."
Among other of queen Mary's merits are reckoned her
constant apprehensions " that the secret sins of those around
her drew down many judgments on her administration and
government," a theme on which she very piously dilates in
her letters to her husband. Assuredly, an unnatural daugh
ter, and a cruel sister, needed not to have wasted her time In
fixing judgments on the secret sins of other people. Amidst
this mass of affectation and contradiction, some traits are
preserved in regard to the queen's personal amiabdity In her
last Ulness, which redound far more to her credit than any
instance that Burnet has previously quoted; they have,
moreover, the advantage of being confirmed by a person
more worthy of belief than himself. This is archbishop Ten
nison, who says, "As soon as the nature of the distemper
was known, the earliest care of this charitable mistress was
for the remoring of such immediate servants as might, by
distance, be preserved in health. She fixed the times for
prayer in her own chamber some days before her iUness
attained its height; she ordered to be read to her, more
than once, a sermon, by a good man now vrith God, (pro
bably archbishop TUlotson,) on this text :. ' What ! shall we
receive good from the hand of God, and not receive eril ?' " '
Burnet adds, " Besides suffering none of her servants to stay
about her when thefr attendance might endanger thefr own
health, she was so tender of them when they feU under that
justly-dreaded illness, that she would not permit them to be
removed, though they happened to be lodged very near her
self." Such conduct comprehended, not only the high merit
of humanity, but the stdl more difficult duty of the self-
sacrifice of personal convenience.
It does not appear, from Burnet's narrative, that any part
' Narrative of the Death of Queen Mary, by Dr. Tennison; printed in White
Kennet's History, vol. Ui, p. 673. The sermon is by TUlotson.

454 MAEY II.
of the Greenwich or Virginian endowments were bequeathed
by the queen from her personal economy, — a cfrcumstance
very needful to ascertain, when estimating the degree of
virtue appertaining to royal charity. The funds came from
the means of the miserable and over-taxed people, then
groaning under the weight of government expenditure, in
creased at least thirty-fold, partly by the profligate corrup
tion of the triumphant oligarchy, and partly by her husband's
Flemish campaigns. Yet, as a legislatress, Mary deserves
great praise for the projects of such institutions, since she
occasioned a portion of the public money to be dfrected to
virtuous uses, which other-wise would have been appUed to
the above worthless purposes. From Burnet's narrative, it
is plain that the Virginian coUege was indebted to her as
legislatress, and not as foundress.-. —
" The last great project," says Bumet," " that her thoughts were working on,
with relation to a noble and royal provision for maimed and decayed seamen,
was particularly designed to be so constituted, as to put them in a probable way
of endiag their days in the fear of God, Every new hint that way was enter
tained by her vrith a lively joy ; she had some discourse on that head the very
day before she was taken iU. She took particular pains to be weU informed of
the state of our plantations, and of those colonies that we have among infidels ;
but it was no small grief to her to hear, that they were but too generaUy a
reproach to the religion by which they were named, (I do not say which they
professed, for many of them seem scarce to profess it). She gave a wilUng ear '
to a proposition which was made for erecting schools, and the founding of a
college among them, [the Virginian foundation]. She considered the whole
scheme of it, and the endowment which was desired for it ; it was a noble one,
and was to rise out of some branches of the revenue,'' which made it liable to ¦
objections, but she took care to consider the whole thing so weU, that she her
self answered aH objections, and espoused the matter with so aflectionate a con
cern, that sbe prepared it for the king to settie at his coming over."
Burnet thinks proper to assert, that WiUiam III. had " great
liking for good things," meaning rehgious and charitable ¦
foundations ; and adds, -with more veracity, " that the queen
always took care to give him the largest share of the honour
of those effected by her means."
The pubUc papers notified, with great solemnity, the cfr-
¦ Discourse on the Memory of the late Queen, by GUbert Burnet, lord bishop
of Sarum.
^ This assertion proves that the qtteen herself was not the foundress, as her
income and property would have been at her own disposal. When the Anglo-
Norman and Plantagenet queens founded coUeges and hospitals, they required
their consorts' consent to appropriate the &uits of their own economy for these
purposes, not the pubUc revenue.

MAEY n; 455
ciimstance, that upon the queen's first indisposition the
greatest and eldest Uon in the Tower, who had been there
about twenty years, and was commonly caUed 'king Charles
II.'s Hon,' sickened with her, and died on the Wednesday
night, forty-eight hours before her ; " which was ominous,"
continues our authority, "affording us so much the more
matter of curiosity, because the like happened at the death
of Charles II. , when another of these royal beasts made the
same exit' with the prince." Such coincidences occur fre
quently enough In EngUsh history to raise the idea, that the
wardens of the wdd beasts at the Tower considered it a point
of etiquette privately and discreetly to sacrifice a lion to the
manes of royalty, on the decease of any sovereign.
Poems on the death of the queen continued to be poured
out by the public press, during the extraordinary time which
occurred between her demise and her funeral. One of the
most singular of these elegies commences thus :^ —
" The great Inexorable seals his ears.
Deaf to our cries, unmelted by our tears ;
The irrevocable posting mandate fUes,
Torn from three kingdoms' grasping arms, she dies !"
After upbraiding Proridence with some profane rant, an
aUusion to the queen's tastes occurs in an apostrophe to her
favourite garden at Whitehall, which a notification explains
led to the privy-stafrs, or private entrance, into the royal
apartments of that ancient palace. As the name Privy-
gardens is stUl retained in the ricinity of the Banqueting-
house, this locaUty may be ascertained : —
" And you, once royal plants, her Uttle grove,
'Twixt Heaven's and WilUam's dear divided love.
Her Contemplative walk, close by whose side
Did the pleased Thames his sUver current gUde.
* * * * *
No opening, no unhaUowed hand may draw
The widowed curtains of her loved Nassau.
Despair, death, horror ! — oh, be strong, great heart !
Thou'st now to play thy mightiest hero's part.
Yes, great Nassau, the parting caU was given;
Too dire divorce ! thy happier rival. Heave. j,
jy its own embrace has snatched that darUng fair.
Translated to immortal spousals there."
'» Life of Marv II, : 16Q5 » Ibid.

456 MAEY II.
The reader is spared some rather popish apostrophes to St.
Peter, the patron saint of Westminster-abbey, and the great
civUity he is expected to show to her defunct majesty's re
mains in opening, with his own hand, the portals of the holy
fane to aUow the sumptuous velvet hearse to pass in, and the
stUl greater alacrity and joy vrith which he had admitted her
beautiful spfrit at the narrow gate. An imaginary monu
ment of the most costly and enduring marble is also ad
dressed, under the supposition that WilUam would pay that
tribute of respect to the memory of his queen.
Lord Cutts, whose headlong valour was infinitely esteemed
by king WilUam, turned poet on the solemn occasion of
Mary's death. Poetry from lord Cutts was as great a mfra-
cle as " honey from the stony rock," since his qualifications
have descended to posterity in a terse line of Dryden or
PameU, describing him,
" As brave and brainless as the sword he wears."
Unfortunately, it is scarcely possible to read the monody of
lord Cutts -with elegiac grarity, on accoimt of the intrusion
of absurd epithets : —
" She's gone ! the beauty of our isle is fled.
Our joy cut off, the great Maria dead;
Tears are too mean for her, our grief should be
Dumb as the grave, and black as destiny.
Ye fields and gardens, where our sovereign walked.
Serenely smiled, and profitably talked.
Be gay no more ; but wUd and barren Ue,
That all your blooming sweets -with hers may die, —
Sweets that crowned love, and softened majesty.
* * * # «
Nor was this angel lodged in common earth.
Her form proclaimed her mind as weU as birth ;
So gracefiil and so lovely, ne'er was seen
A finer woman, and more awfvd queen."
Lord Cutts breaks into strains of tender sympathy vrith the
queen's mourning maids of honour, aU dressed in the deepest
sable : — " Ye gentle nymphs, that on her throne did wait.
And helped to fUl the brightness of her state;
Whilst aU in shining gold and purple dressed.
Your beauties in the fairest Ught were placed.''

MAEY II. 457
The king is then panegyrized In very droll strains : —
w
" See where the glorious Nassau fainting lies.
The mighty Atlas falls, the conqueror dies !
O sir, revive ! to England's help return.
Command your grief, and like a hero mourn."
But when reading these eulogiums. It is reqidsite to call to
mind that such sentiments were not felt by aU the English
nation; for Mary had governed a dirided people, half of
whom were only kept down by terror of a standing army
ruled by the lash, and by the nearly perpetual suspension of
the habeas corpus act. Numbers of opponents took pleasm'e
in cfrculating, not elegies, but epigrams on her memory.
The foUowing have been preserved In manuscript, and were
handed about in coffee-houses, where the literary lions of
the day congregated, every person of decided genius, from
Dryden to the marveUous boy Alexander Pope, being adverse
to her cause : — Jacobite Epitaph on Maet IL'
" Here ends, notwithstanding her specious pretences.
The undutiful chUd of the kindest of princes.
WeU, here let her Ue, for by this time she knows.
What it is such a father and king to depose ;
Between vice and virtue she parted her life,
Sbe was too bad a daughter, and too good a wife."
The observations preserved in the pages of Dangeau and of
madame Serigne, relative to the expectation that WiUiam
III. would die of grief for the loss of his partner, are aUuded
to in the second of these epigram epitaphs :^ —
" Is WUly's wife now dead and gone ?
I'm sorry he is left alone.
Oh, blundering Death ! I do thee ban.
That took the wife and left the man.
Come, Atropos, come with thy knife.
And take the man to his good wife ;
And when thou'st rid us of the knave,
A thousand thanks then thou shalt have."
When the news arrived at Bristol that the queen was dead,
many gentlemen gathered together in the taverns, and passed
the night in dancing and singing Jacobite songs, whUe a large
mob assembled at the doors, shouting, " No foreigners ! no
» Cole's MS. CoUections, vol. xxi, p, 65. » Ibid.

458 MAEY IL
taxes !" TTiese turbulent scenes were repeated at Norwich,
in WarwicSshfre, and in Suffolk.' PoUtical maUce likewise
showed itself in another spiteful epigram : —
"On the Death qv Maet IL"
" The queen deceased, the king so grieved.
As if the hero died, the woman Uved ;
Alas ! we erred i' the choice of our commanders.
He should have knotted, and she gone to Flanders."
Dr. Ken, the deprived bishop of Bath and WeUs, who was
formerly chaplain to queen Mary in the first years of her
marriage, when she was in HoUand, roused himself from his
peaceful retirement to write an indignant remonstrance to
Dr. Tennison on his conduct at the queen's death-bedi
Ken charged the archbishop with compronusing the high
functions of a primate of the EngUsh church, by omitting
" to call queen Mary to repent, on her death-bed, of her sins
towards her father." Ken reminds Tennison, in forcible
terms, " of the horror that primate had expressed to him of
some circumstances in the conduct of the queen at the era of
the Revolution," which he does not fully explain; but what
soever they were, he affirms that "they would compromise
her salvation, -vrithout indiridual and complete repentance.'"
And here it Is not irrelevant to interpolate, that a few
weeks before the death of queen Mary, her poUtical jealousy
had been greatly excited by the fact that Ken, the deprived
bishop of Bath and WeUs, was regarded by the reformed
cathoUc church of England as thefr primate, on account of
the recent demise of Sancroft, archbishop of Canterbury.
Mary had, therefore, molested her old pastor and almoner,
nay, it may be said personal protector in her Orange court,
with a privy-council warrant, and dragged him to be ques
tioned before her conned. Ken made his appearance in
patched gaberdine; notvrithstanding his pale face and thin
grey hafrs, he was animated by moral courage of a high tone,
and the queen and council heard what they did not Uke.
• Inedited MS., BibUotheque du Eoi; Ukewise Warwickshire News-letter,
January 10, 1694-5. ^ State Poems.
' The pamphlet, printed at the time, may be seen among the coUections at the
British Museum.

MABY n. 459
For want of other crimes, our church-of-England bishop was
charged with the offence of soUciting the charity of the
pubUc, by a petition in behalf of the starring famdies of the
nonjuring clergy. "My lord," said he, "inking James's
time, there were about a thousand or more imprisoned in my
dioc^e, who were engaged in the rebelUon of the duke of
Monmouth, and many of them were such as I had reason to
beUeve to be fll men, and void of aU reUgion; and yet, for all
tiiat, I thought it my duty to reUeve them. It is weU known
to the diocese that I visited them night and day, and I thank
God I supplied them with necessaries myself as far as I could,
and encouraged others to do the same ; and yet king James,
fax firom punishing me, thanked me for so doing.'"
The dreadful eruptive disease of which the queen died did
not prevent the usual process of embalming, the account of
which is extant in MS., dated 29th December, 1694.
"ihb Bnx roB the Fmbalment OP the Bodt of TTttr Majsstt, bt
Db. Habtct., Heb Mjjbstv's Apoihecabt.
"For perfumed Spaiadiape, to make Oeredoath to wrap the Body in, and to
Line the Coffin; fin- Bich Gmmnes and Spic^ to staff the body; fiir Compound
dijinge Powders perfumed, to lay in the Coffin ITnder the Body, and to fill up
the fme, [where the heart and viscera were enclosed]; for Indian Balsam, Eecti-
^ed Spirrits of Wine 'nnctmned with Grmmnes and Spices, and a stronge Aroma-
tiaed Lixivium to wash the Body with; for Rich Damask Powder to fiU the
CcrfSn, and for aU other Materisdis for Embalmioge the Body of the High and
Mighty Princes Mary, Queoi of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, &c.
"As alsoo fiir the Spic@ and Damask Powders to be putt between the
twoo Coffines, with the pecfimies for the Cambers, [chambers]; alt<^ther
aoOD). OOs. OOd.' „T TT
" Jo. Hmos."
The monming for queen Mary was deep and general. It
is aUuded to in the foUo-wing MS. of the times, which gives
at the same time a remarkable specimen of the style of
writing the English langnage at this period of retrograded
cirilization : —
" The greatest pt of this Town are pi^pazeing fat Monming far y^ Qneen, who
died y^ 27th instant ab^ 2 Afternoon; some say not iSH 2 fiyday morning; the
* Ken's own IGniites of his Examination before the privy coond], April 28,
1696. See Hawkins' Life of Cen, edited by J. J. Bound. Mr. Falin, author
of the History of the Church of England, from 1688 to 1717, has likewise
edited this curions aiid interesting scene, with many other particulars of bishop
K™- » Add. MSS., 5751, foL 53 B.

460 MAEY II.
King is extreamly grieved and has sowned away once or twice; yesterday
ye Parliament resolved nemine Contradisente yt an humble addi-ess bee drawn
and Presented to his Ma*'e to condole y" death of yo Q., and yt Ukewise they
will stand by him with their Uves and fortunes og' all enemies, at home and
abroad."' It will be observed from this MS., that the addresses of
the houses of parUament were prepared vrithin a few hours of
the queen's decease. Deputations from the dissenters went
up vrith condoling addresses to king William, to whom,
almost as early as the houses of parliament, an oration was
pronounced on the occasion by their great speaker. Dr. Bates,
who, it may be remembered, was the deputy who proposed a
union between the dissenters and the church of England at
the time of queen Mary's landing and proclamation. " I weU
remember," says Dr. Calamy, " that upon occasion of the
speech of Dr. Bates on the loss of the queen, I saw tears
trickle down the cheeks of that great prince, her consort,
who so often appeared on the field of battle. I was one that
endeavoured to improve that melancholy proridence at Black-
friars, [the place of his meeting-house,] and was pressed to
print my sermon, but refused because of the number of ser
mons printed on that occasion."^
There was a contest respecting the propriety of the parlia
ment being dissolved, according to the old custom at the
death of the sovereign; but this was overruled, and aU the
members of the house of commons were inrited to follow aa
mourners at queen Mary's funeral, which took place, March
5th, in Westminster-abbey. The beUs of every parish church
throughout England toUed on the day of Mary II.'s burial;
serrice was celebrated, and a funeral sermon preached gene
raUy in her praise at every church, but not universally, for
a Jacobite clergyman had the audacity to take for his text
the verse, " Go, see now this cursed woman, and bury her, for
she Is a king's daughter." The same insult, if our memory
holds good, had been offered to Mary queen of Scots, the
ancestress of Mary IL, by a puritan, — so nearly do extremes
in poUtics meet. > Additional MSS., 681, p. 602; British Museum.
" Life of Calamy, vol. i. p. 856.

MAEY II. 461
The funeral procession of queen Mary was chiefly remark
able on account of the attendance of the members of the
house of commons, a cfrcumstance which it is Improbable wiU
ever take place again. A wax effigy of the queen was placed
over her coffin, dressed in robes of state, and coloured to
resemble Ufe. After the funeral, it was deposited in West
minster-abbey; and in due time that of her husband, WdUam
IIL, after being in Uke manner carried on his coffin at his
funeral, arrived to inhabit the same glass case. These funeral
effigies, in general, were thus preserved to assist scidptors, if
a monumental statue was designed, with the costume, pro
portions, and appearance of the deceased. There is Uttle
doubt but that, "when the wax-chandlers did thefr office
about the royal dead," part of that office was to take a cast
of the person for the waxen effigy. At the extreme ends
of a large box, glazed in front, are seen the effigies of queen
Mary and king WUUam. They seem to be standing as far
as possible from each other ; the sole point of union is the
proximity of thefr sceptres, which they hold close together,
nearly touching, but at arm's length, over a smaU altar.
The figure of the queen is nearly six feet in height; her
husband looks diminutive in comparison to her, and such
was really the case, when, as tradition says, he used to take
her arm as they walked together.
Queen Mary's wax effigy represents a well-proportioned,
but very large woman. The reports of the angry Jacobites
regarding her devotion to the table, are rather confirmed by
this representation of her person at the time of her death, for
thfrty-two is too early a time of life for a lady to be embel
lished with a double chin. The costume of the queen nearly
assimilates to the court dress of the present day. Her large
but weU-turned waist is compressed in a tight velvet bodice
of royal purple velvet, cut, not oiUy as long as the natural
waist wiU aUow, but about an Inch encroaching on the hips ;
thus the skfrt and gfrdle are put on somewhat lower than the
waist, — a very graceful fashion, when not too much exag
gerated. The waist is not pointed, but rounded, in front.
The bodice is formed with a triangular stomacher, inserted

462 MAEY II.
into the dress, made of white miniver; three graduated
clusters of diamonds, long ovals in shape, stud this stomacher
from the chest to the waist. Clusters of rubies and diamonds
surround the bust, and a royal mantle of purple velvet hangs
from the back of the bodice. The bosom is surrounded vrith
guipure, and large double ruffles of guipure, or parchment-
lace, depend from the straight sleeves to the -wrist. The
sleeves are trimmed lengthways, with strips of miniver and
emerald brooches. The skirt of the robe is of purple velvet;
it forms a graceftd train, bordered with ermine, and trimmed
at an inch distance with broad gold lace, Uke the bands of
footmen's hats, only the gold is beautiful and finely worked.
The skirt of the dress is open, and the ermine trimming is
graduated to meet the ermine stomacher very elegantly; the
opening of the robe shows an under-dress of very beautiful
shaded lutestring, the ground of which is white, but it is
enriched with shades and brocadings of every possible colour.
The whole dress is very long, and falls round the feet. The
throat necklace, a-la-Sevigne, is of large pearls, and the ear
rings of large pear pearls. The head-dress is not in good
preservation; the hafr is dressed high off the face, in the
style of the portrait of her step-mother, Mary Beatrice of
Modena: three tiers of curls are raised one over the other,
and the fontange is said to have been twisted among them,
but there is not a vestige of it now, only a few pearls ; two
frizzed curls rest on the bosom, and the hafr looks as if it
had origlnaUy been powdered -vrith brown powder. The
sceptre of sovereignty, surmounted by a fleur-de-Us and cross,
is in one hand, and the regnal globe in the other : there are
no gloves. On the Uttle piUar-shaped altar which separates
her from her husband, is the sovereign crown, a smaU one
¦with four arches. No other monument than this fragde
figure was raised to Mary. She left no chUdren, and died
at enmity with aU her near relatives.
It is singular that WiUiam III. did not take the oppor
tunity of budding a tomb for the -wife he appeared to
lament deeply; but sovereigns who are for ever at war are
always impoverished. AU the funeral memorials of Mary,

MAEY II. 463
and of himself Ukewise, are contained in the said glass
case, which is now shut up, in dust and desolation, from the
riew of the pubUc. The perpetual gibes which were made at
these waxen moidds of the royal dead by those who knew
not for what purpose they were designed, have occasioned
thefr seclusion from the pubUc eye. They are, however, as
authentic relics of historical customs and usages, as any
thing within or without the abbey; they are connecting
links of the antique mode of bearing the dead "barefaced
on the bier," Uke the son of the widow of Nain, and as they
are, to this day, carried to the grave in Italy. For, in aU
probabUity, centuries elapsed before the populace — "the
simple folk," as our chroniclers caUed them — beUeved that
the waxen effigy, in its "pareU and array," was otherwise
than the veritable corpse of thefr Uege lord or lady. It was
meant to be so taken ; for the ancient enameUed statues of
wood or stone, coloured to the life, on the monuments at
Fontevraud and elsewhere, exactly resembled in costume the
royal dead in the tombs below. The wax effigy formed the
grand point of interest in a state funeral, to which aU the
attendant pomp ostensibly pertained. So difficult was it to
divorce this chief object from pubUc funerals, that one of the
wax effigies In the abbey actuaUy pertained to the present
century.' There were other figures in the Westminster-
abbey coUection in the preceding age, as we learn from some
contemporary Unes in aUusion to the wax effigy of Charles
the Second: — " I saw him shown for two-pence in a chest.
Like Monk, old Harry, Mary,' and the rest ;
And if the figure answered its intent.
In ten more years 'twould buy a monument."
Many medals were struck on the occasion of Mary's death:
they chiefly represent her as very fat and ftdl in the bust,
' That of lord Nelson, who is dressed in his exact costume ; he is represented
with only one arm ; the sleeve of his admiral's coat looped to the breast as he
wore it. Wliether his effigy was thus laid on his coffin, and borne on the grand
car, is another question. Lord Chatham's wax effigy, dressed in the costume of
his day, had, in aU probabiUty, been carried at his pubUc funeral.
* Henry VIII. and his daughter, Mary I.

464 MAEY II.
with a prodigious ampUtude of double chin. The hafr is
stuck up In front some inches higher than the crown of the
head, as if the queen had just puUed off her high cornette
cap ; the hafr thus is depicted as standing on end, very high
on the forehead, and very low behind, a fashion which gives
an ugly outUne to the head. On the reverse of one of her
medals is represented a monument for her, as if in West
minster-abbey ; there never was one, excepting it might be a
hearse and chapelle ardente, which, indeed, it seems to be
by the design. The queen's costume is nearly the same as
that of her portrait by KneUer, in St. George's-haU, Windsor.
On the death of any sovereign of Great Britain, the theatres
were closed for six weeks : such was the case at the death of
queen Mary,' whose demise at the period of sports and car-
mval was a serious blow to the players.
More than one benefaction is mentioned in history as
bequeathed by Mary, yet we can find no indications of a tes*
tamentary document any way connected -vrith her papers. A
sum of 500Z. per annum was paid to the pastors of the primi
tive church of the Vaudols, as a legacy of queen Mary II.
This sum was dirided between the pastors of Vaudols, In
Piedmont, and the German Waldenses, in her name, untd the
close of the last century,^ when the Vaudols became the sub
jects of France. What fund was appropriated by Mary for
the supply of this annuity, is not ascertained; but it seems to
have been paid through the Society for the Propagation of
the Gospel in Foreign Parts, — a good work, originally planned,
if not executed, under the auspices of this queen.
The natural inclinations of Mary were eridently bountifid:
Uke her ancestors, she strove sedulously to become a foundress
of good institutions. The hard nature of her consort, to
whose memory no anecdote in any way connected -vrith a gift
pertains, impeded her efforts. Queen Mary founded an in
stitution at the Hague for young ladies whose birth was
above thefr means ; it was endowed with lands in England,
which made the charity, however kind to Holland, not very
' CoUey Cibber's Life and Apology, p. 425.
' Narrative of an Excursion to Piedmont, by the rev. W. S. GiUy, p. 277.

MAEY IL 465
benevolent to this country, and, we think, contrary to EngUsh
law. AU terms of praise and eulogy were exhausted to exalt the
memory of Mary II. beyond every queen that had ever
eristed. In an obscure history, two facts are adduced in sup
port of a fiood of wordy commendation. They are as foUows:
the first is quoted in Illustration of "her bright spirit of
devotion;" either it does not possess any very great merit, or
the merit has evaporated vrith the change of dinner-hours.
"A lady of quality coming to pay her majesty a risit on a
Saturday in the afternoon, she was told that the queen was
retired from aU company, and kept a fast in preparation for re
ceiring the sacrament the next day. The great lady, however,
stayed tUl five o'clock in the afternoon, when queen Mary
made her appearance, and forthwith ate but a slender supper,
' it being incongruous,' as she piously observed, ' to conclude
a fast with a feast.' '" Strange Indeed that so phaxisaical an
anecdote Is the best IUustration of queen Mary's piety : the
whole is Uttle in unison with the scriptural precepts respecting
fasting. The other anecdote is in illustration of her charity.
" Her charity's celestial grace was Uke the sun ; nothing
within its cfrcult was hid from its refreshing heat. A lord
proposed to her a very good work that was chargeable. She
ordered a hundred pounds to be paid : the cash was not forth
coming. The nobleman waited upon her and renewed the
subject, telling her that interest was due for long delay, upon
which the queen ordered fifty pounds to be added to her
former benefaction;" but whether either sum was actually
paid, cannot now be ascertained. The anecdote proves that
the qiieen was -wiUing to give, if she had had wherewithal.
Her means of charity were, however, fired away In battles and
sieges in Flanders.
Bishop Burnet probably intended the foUovring inimitable
composition as an epitaph on queen Mary. For many years
it was aU that the pubUc knew concerning her, excepting the
two dubious anecdotes preriously quoted : —
» Barnard's History of England, p. 534.
VOL. Vll. H H

466 MAEY II.
"THE Chabacteb op Queen Maet II. bt Bishop Bttbnet.
" To the state a prudent ruler.
To the church a nursing mother.
To the king a constant lover.
To the people the best example.
Orthodox in religion.
Moderate in opinion ;
Sincere in profession.
Constant in devotion,-
Ardent in affection.
A preserver of Uberty,
A deUverer from popery ;
A preserver fi-om tyranny,
A preventer of slavery ;
A promoter of piety,
A suppressor of immorality,
A pattern of industry.
High in the world.
Low esteem of the world.
Above fear of death.
Sure of eternal life.
What was great, good, desired in a queen.
In her late majesty was to be seen ;
Thoughts to conceive it cannot be expressed.
What was contained in her royal breast."
Such was the last poetic tribute devoted to the memory
the queen, who was so " sure of eternal life !"

END OF VOL. Vll,

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