Royal Sisters: The Story of the Daughters of James II (17 page)

“What has happened?” cried the Queen, while a terrible foreboding came to her.

There was no answer; and as she was about to get out of bed, Lady Sunderland came hurrying in. Mary Beatrice knew at once that something had happened to her son; and when Lady Sunderland told her, she fell fainting back on her pillows.

The news went
rapidly round the Court: The Prince is dying.

The King remained on his knees for hours praying for his son; and Mary Beatrice lay without speaking in her bed. Meanwhile the doctors were bleeding the baby and giving him more physic.

For several days the little boy’s life was in danger and Anne wrote gleefully to The Hague:

The Prince of Wales has been ill these three or four days; and if he has been so bad as people say, I believe it will not be long before he is an angel in Heaven.

It would be the best thing, thought Anne. Then it would be as it was in the days before they had heard Mary Beatrice was pregnant.

In a few days time however the little Prince was well again, and this gave rise to a new rumor. The Prince was now a bonny blooming boy; it was strange, was it not, that a few days ago he had been nigh to death? What if the boy who had been brought in to the Queen’s bed by means of a warming-pan was dead—and this healthy boy had been substituted for him?

The twists and turns of the story were becoming farcical, but those who were determined to be rid of James were delighted to accept the rumors as truth.

Now there was
a further rumor more important than any that had gone before.

In Holland William of Orange was planning an invasion of England, his object being to depose James and set his wife Mary—James’s eldest daughter—on the throne.

The King could not believe it; he shut his eyes to it. It was impossible, he said. He had always detested William of Orange, but he could not believe that his daughter Mary would ever stand against him.

He did not take the threat seriously. He did not—or would not—face the fact that there were many Englishmen, even those close to him who, even though professing an inclination toward Catholicism, were determined never to have a Catholic monarch on the throne.

While James and his Queen had been rejoicing in the birth of the Prince of Wales, these men had seen in the event the sign for action.

Seven of the most influential men had gone so far as to invite William to come to England. These were Danby and Devonshire, Shrewsbury, Russell, Lumley, the Bishop of London, and Henry Sidney.

The bells which James had caused to ring with joy for the birth of his Prince were in truth tolling for his own defeat.

In the Cockpit Sarah and Anne talked in breathless whispers. It was more than a subject for spiteful gossip now. Revolution was in the air. Caliban was coming.

Anne wondered vaguely whether Caliban would be as kind to her as her father had been; but she looked to Sarah who was slyly pleased. Mary, who suffers from the ague, Sarah was thinking. And William, who will be of no account without her, and then … Anne.

THE FLIGHT OF THE PRINCESS

ord Clarendon called at the Cockpit to see his
niece. She kept him waiting a while before receiving him—this was on Sarah’s advice—and when he was brought in, Sarah was sure that she was in position to hear everything.

“My lord,” said Anne, “to what do I owe the honor of this visit. It is rare that you call on me.”

“Your Highness has been out of town lately. I shall be ready to call on you at any time should you have commands for me.”

“You have been with my father?” she asked.

“Yes, Your Highness, and it is of him I would speak. Your Highness knows that preparations are being made in Holland.”

“Everyone is talking of it.”

“The King does not take it seriously enough.”

“Is that so? I had thought him much agitated by the reports.”

“But he does nothing?”

“What should he do?”

“He should gather about him those friends whom he can trust.”

“Ah, uncle, whom can one trust?”

“Those who have never proved themselves false,” retorted Clarendon hotly.

“My father is melancholy. He has heard that the Prince of Orange is soon to embark and that Shrewsbury, Wiltshire, and Sidney are with him. It is disturbing news.”

“The King your father needs advice and he would listen to you.”

“I never speak to the King on state matters,” replied Anne.

“If you showed concern for your father now it would give him great pleasure to know that you were anxious on his account.”

“But I have told you it is not my place to discuss business.”

“Does your Highness realize the danger the King is in?”

“It is not for me to say.”

Clarendon flushed. “As the King’s daughter does Your Highness not consider it is your place to help him?”

“I have never discussed such things with the King,” Anne reiterated coolly. She lifted the watch—which was as large as a clock and which hung at her side. “Why I do declare,” she went on, “it is time to prepare for worship and I must not be late for that.”

Lord Clarendon saw that he was dismissed. He could see, too, that Anne would not help her father; in fact he was not at all sure that she was not secretly pleased that the King’s difficulties were becoming more acute.

Then, thought Clarendon, the rumors I have heard about the treachery in the Cockpit are true.

Clarendon discussed that
interview with his brother Laurence.

“The terrible part of it all was that she did not seem to care!” he complained.

“But, brother, have you not heard that many of the evil rumors about the Prince’s birth actually started at the Cockpit?”

“I cannot believe it.”

“Our niece may not possess a brilliant mind but she has a flaming ambition.”

“You think that she wants him … deposed. Oh, I can’t believe that any daughter would be so ungrateful; and he has been good to her.”

“He wears a crown, brother. She covets a crown.”

“But it will not come to her.”

“After Mary it will.”

“I won’t believe it. I won’t. I shall call on her again. I shall try to make her see that she must help her father, because he seems incapable of helping himself.”

“It is what King Charles always feared.”

“But who would have believed it would ever have come to this! He should be rallying the country. He should reform his ways.”

“He has released the bishops.”

“It is not enough. He must let the people know that he will not attempt to foist Catholicism on them. He must gather his faithful friends and prepare for battle. Anne could persuade him I am sure. He would listen to her. You know how he dotes on her since Mary has been under the thumb of Orange. I shall go to her.”

He did; and found her with Sarah, Lady Fitzharding, and others of her ladies.

She received him somewhat insolently and would not dismiss her women, who were dressing her. She smiled at him rather maliciously in the mirror and he thought that she took courage from these women about her. “I know what you have come to speak of, my lord,” she said. “This baby whose entrance into the world … or should I say the Queen’s bed … is causing such a stir.”

“They are saying warming-pans are very commodious these days.” That was Sarah Churchill. An odious woman and an evil influence on the Princess, thought Clarendon.

“Yet it does not need a great deal of space to carry hot coals,” added Lady Fitzharding.

Spy! thought Clarendon. Sister of the woman whom everyone knew was the mistress of Orange. What a strange pair these sisters were! There was Mary, heiress to the throne of England, meekly adoring a husband who treated her harshly; and, Anne her sister, surrounding herself with women for whom she seemed to have more regard than for her own father!

“I do not think, my lord,” retorted Anne, “that you are aware of what the people are saying. It was most unhelpful that those who should have been present at the birth were not there.”

“All those who wished to attend were invited to do so, Your Highness.”

“I was saying that it was unfortunate it should happen when those who should have been present were prevented from being there … and I know that before the birth at Her Majesty’s toilet she would go into her private closet and put on her chemise … so that those whose duty it was to look on her belly were unable to do so.”

The women were tittering; Sarah Churchill laughed out loud.

It was a scene from which Lord Clarendon felt he must escape at once.

He took his leave and went to the King. He could not tell him exactly what had happened for James would not believe him and would be furious, not with Anne, but with him; so he said that he believed that people were endeavoring to poison the Princess Anne’s mind and attempting to make her accept this absurd story of the baby in the warming-pan.

James sent the entire Privy Council to his daughter with an account of what happened at the birth of the Prince.

“This is not necessary,” said Anne, “for I have so much duty to the King that his word is more to me than these depositions.”

Clarendon heard this and was glad of the reply for the King’s sake.

But he was very uneasy and he did not trust his niece.