proceeded from the Queen's own temper, who I am persuaded is more just in herself, as well as more kind to your very affectionate friend, ANNE." It is reasonable to suppose that Lord Rochester had sufficiently thwarted the princess's wishes to have been prepared for this snub. Things came to such a pitch that the Queen sent to Lady Grace Pierrepont, Lady Thanet, and others not to visit the princess, "for she would see nobody that went to her sister." My Lady Grace's answer was, "that she thought she owed a respect to the princess; that she had been civilly treated by her; and that, if her Majesty would not allow her to pay her duty to her, she would go no more to the Queen and oftener to the princess." One afternoon as they were returning in their chairs to Berkeley House after visiting the Cockpit, the Prince and Princess of Denmark passed the Queen in her coach, and no notice was taken on either side. This behaviour was remarked upon as strange by the populace. After their return from Bath, the princess and her favourite occupied themselves in needlework and looking after their children. The handsome bed-quilt now at Madresfield Court was embroidered by Anne and Sarah. It was probably worked at this time, when they both had plenty of leisure. They also amused themselves playing cards. Lord Marlborough was also of the party. The games then in vogue were Ombre, Basset, Loo, and Lansquenet. The first was introduced into England by Charles II.; a little later a fourth player was added, when it was called Quadrille. Basset, said by Dr. Johnson to have been invented at Venice, was a gambling game. Lansquenet, a French card game, took its name from the Lansquenets or light German troopers employed by the kings of France in the fifteenth century. Another drawing-room game was Comet, played with cards and a board, and probably with dice. A few years before, gambling had become the dominant passion, ladies as well as gentlemen preferring it to any other amusement. Lady Mary W. Montague wrote, several years later, that in her youth the most fashionable game was Brag, then Crimp, afterwards Hazard and Commerce, and lastly Quadrille and Whist. CHAPTER V UNDER WILLIAM III (1694-1702) "All desperate hazards courage do create, TOWARDS the end of the year 1694 small-pox raged in London. No rank of life was exempt; there was scarcely a family that had not lost, some time or other, a member from this terrible complaint. Queen Mary sickened while at Kensington, but it was three days before the illness declared itself. When the Queen became aware that she had contracted that dreadful malady, she retired to her oak-panelled apartment, dismissed her attendants, and shut herself up all night, destroying her letters from the King and other private papers. Mary knew the disorder was likely to prove fatal, and she had no wish for unsympathetic eyes to pry into the secrets of her life with William. Her love for her husband was great; she would not let him appear at a disadvantage, some of his epistles being far from loving. So in the dark watches of the night, burning with fever, she toiled at her writing-table destroying these records. There is a curious old oak writing-table to be seen at Kensington Palace that might well have been Queen Mary's. It has two drawers with drop handles, and is covered with much-worn green cloth; the back of the table is raised to form a locker, the lid of which lifts up. The following day her Majesty was too ill to rise, the malady being much aggravated by her night's vigil. The King was greatly concerned, ordered a bed to be placed in her room, and saw to her nourishment himself. From the moment he realised the seriousness of her illness he never left her side, stifling his asthmatic cough not to disturb her. On waking from a long lethargy she asked where the King was, as she did not hear him cough. William called Bishop Burnet into his closet, where he gave way to his grief, crying out that there was no hope for the Queen, and that from being the happiest he was now going to be the most miserable creature upon earth. He told the bishop that during the whole course of their marriage he had never known in her one single fault; there was worth in her that no one knew besides himself.1 Never was such universal sorrow seen in a court or in a town as at this time. All people, men and women, young and old, could scarcely refrain from tears. Many condemned Dr. Radcliffe's treatment, but the physician himself declared he was not called until human skill could be of no avail. When the Princess Anne heard of her sister's serious illness, she sent a lady of the bedchamber to present her humble duty to the Queen, and to ask permission to wait upon her. The message was delivered to Lady Derby, who carried it to the Queen, and came out some time after, saying the King would send an answer next 1 Burnet's "History of His Own Times," day. Accordingly, the following lines were addressed to the lady who had taken the message:— "MADAM,-I am commanded by the King and Queen to tell you they desire you would let the princess know they both thank her for sending and desiring to come; but it being thought so necessary to keep the Queen as quiet as possible, hope she will defer it.—I am, madam, your ladyship's most humble servant, E. DERBY. Pray, madam, present my humble duty to the princess." Sarah says, "This civil answer, and my Lady Derby's postscript, made me conclude, more than if the college of physicians had told me, that the disease was mortal." The princess sent every day to inquire after the Queen, and one message at least reached her Majesty, for Lady Fitzharding delivered it in person, expressing at the same time the concern felt by the princess, to which the Queen returned no answer but a cold thanks. The sisters never met again. The King's liaison with Elizabeth Villiers preyed upon Mary's mind. She asked Archbishop Tenison to give William a note she had written on the subject, as she could not bear speaking of it to her husband. Confiding in the archbishop her sufferings on this account, she begged he would use his influence with the King to break off the connection. This he promised to do, and hereafter gained a good deal of ascendency over William. Queen Mary died on 28th December 1694, in her thirty-third year, to the inexpressible grief of the King, who for some weeks after her death would neither see company nor attend to business of state. William showed more heart than he is usually credited with. His cold, apathetic nature was stirred to its depths at the |