Plaidy, Jean - Royal Sisters - The Story of the Daughters of James II

All those who visited him in his cradle declared him to be a bonny child, although in the first hours following his birth there had been a fear that he might succumb to convulsions as other royal children had before him.

There was such anxiety to keep him alive that too many physicians were appointed to look after him and this almost resulted in a fatal accident, for it was decided to give a drug which was believed to be good for babies and this was done; but the physician who had given it did not inform all the other physicians and one of them, not knowing that the child had already had one dose, gave him another.

Mary Beatrice awoke with a start to find no one in her bedchamber. Lady Sunderland, who was lady of the bed for that night, should have been present.

“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.”