When her majesty opened parliament in the autumn she made the usual speech containing entreaties that goodwill and friendship might continue among all ranks of her subjects, but particularly with regard to the newly-made union. King William III. had said, "That he did not desire the experiment of a union with Scotland to be made in his reign, because he had not the good fortune to know what would satisfy a Scotchman." This would seem to apply equally to Queen Anne, for the Scotch were excessively dissatisfied and were already getting up petitions for dissolving the newly-made union, while the English turned up their noses at their northern neighbors, with whom they had no desire to be associated in parliament.

Public affairs did not seem to occupy Queen Anne's attention more than private ones, for the duchess kept her in a constant state of worry with her threats and her ill-temper; and there was scarcely day when she did not feel the necessity for sending a letter of explanation and apology to the tyrant for some imaginary offence, or some omitted honor, either on her own part or that of Mrs. Masham. There was at this time a matter of private interest under consideration between her majesty and the duchess. The latter had long before asked for a part of St. James Park, on which to build a palace for herself, but as the demand was an unreasonable one, the queen was less generous and compliant than she had been on previous occasions. But the duchess had set her heart on the very spot she had designated, and get it she would at any cost. So she importuned the poor queen, month after month, and made her displeasure so seriously felt on account of the refusal, that at last she gained her point, and the present Marlborough House marks the spot.

The indignation of the London populace was justly aroused, because, when digging the foundation for her palace, the duchess had caused the removal of a fine oak tree which had sprung from an acorn that Charles II. had brought from Boscobel, and planted with his own hands in this pleasure garden of his queen, Catharine of Braganza.

The Marlborough family were jealous of Robert Harley, ex-speaker of the house of commons; and when his secretary, William Gregg, was arrested because he was discovered in traitorous correspondence with the French, they tried very hard to implicate Harley, too, but did not succeed. The secretary was hanged, and there was a hue and cry, because it was said that Queen Anne had sent the prisoner some comforts by her physician, Arbuthnot; but when the matter came to be sifted, it was found that such was her majesty's custom, because she was always unwilling to sentence any one to death; and when obliged to do so tried to alleviate their sufferings while they were in prison as much as possible.

A.D. 1708. Angry debates in the queen's cabinet council were of daily occurrence, and her presence was never a check on the coarseness and brutality of the officers. A scene of this sort took place one day when her majesty made an attempt to free herself from the chains of Marlborough and Lord Godolphin. She told her resolution to Mr. St. John, and sent a letter through him to the Duke of Marlborough, having first read it to him, and requested him to tell what she had done about town. This was obeyed without reserve; and at the next council meeting, when Harley delivered a paper to her majesty containing some accounts of the war, the duke and lord-treasurer, Godolphin, abruptly left the room, whereupon the Duke of Somerset rose and told the queen in a rude tone, "That if she suffered that fellow to treat of affairs of the war, without the advice of the general, he could not serve her."

Of course her majesty was obliged to succumb to the storm she had brought about her head, and forthwith dismissed Harley. Then she was requested to get rid of Mrs. Masham, though the councillors did not make a direct attack on the bed-chamber woman for fear of ridicule. The Duchess of Marlborough demanded a private interview; but did not succeed in having her cousin dismissed, because her aid in nursing the prince-consort was so valuable that the queen strenuously refused to part with her. But the duchess was so friendly in her manners at this interview that she succeeded in exacting a solemn promise from "her dear Mrs. Morley" that if at any time it should become necessary for her to quit her service her places should be transferred to her daughters.

Another singular scene was enacted in the council when the "Pretender" invaded Scotland, and Sir George Byng was sent to intercept his progress. It was urged that if the young prince should be taken, he should forfeit his life; thereupon the queen wept, and the council broke up in confusion.

Although the "Pretender" was really captured, her majesty was spared the embarrassment of deciding as to his fate, for he was landed on French soil. Not so the Jacobites who were taken at the same time, for they were charged with high treason; and old Lord Griffin was condemned to execution. But he pined away, and at the expiration of eighteen months died in prison of old age; for the queen regularly respited him, until she was thus relieved of the pain of putting an end to the existence of one of her father's most faithful servants.

During the summer the queen quarrelled with the Duke of Marlborough, because she desired to appoint colonels in the army, and he justly believed that he was more capable than she could possibly be of judging what, men had deserved promotion. The prime reason for this dispute was that Prince George had some favorites for whom he desired places, and the queen was anxious to gratify him; but the Duke of Marlborough was so angry that he wrote a very severe letter of reproof to his brother, George Churchill, who forthwith showed it to her majesty, and excited a great deal of displeasure.

Meanwhile the duchess kept hammering at Abigail Ma-sham, until at last she got hold of a subject for attack. One of the court spies had taken pains to inform her that her cousin had grand apartments at Kensington Palace, where she received her friends in style whenever they called. After duly turning this piece of news over in her mind, the duchess came to the conclusion that the apartments referred to must be those that King William had fitted up for his favorite, Keppel, and that Queen Anne had subsequently allotted to her. To be sure, she had never occupied them, and probably never would do so; but she was determined that no one else should enjoy them, least of all Abigail Masham. So, in high dudgeon, she posted off to Kensington to inquire into the matter.

Prince George was so ill from gout and asthma, and had grown so excessively fat, that he could not get up or down stairs without a great deal of suffering; therefore he was lodged on the ground-floor of the palace, whence he could walk out in the grounds and enjoy the air whenever he felt able. The queen shared his apartments, and as he often required care at night to prevent his suffocating during his paroxysms of coughing, the bed-chamber women were placed in the adjoining rooms, so they could be summoned in case of need.

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On arriving at the palace, the duchess ordered the housemaid to open her suite of apartments, and moved towards those on the ground-floor, although part of them were situated on the one above. The maid replied that she could not do so, because they were divided between Mrs. Masham and the bed-chamber women in waiting. That was just what the irate duchess had come to find out; so she immediately made an indignant complaint to the queen, which resulted, after too much absurd wrangling to be worthy of recital, in the removal of the royal household to a house in Windsor Forest, which her majesty had purchased in the days when she was forbidden by Queen Mary to appear at court. In this quiet retreat she watched over her sick husband and sought to relieve his sufferings; but the duchess declared that the reason Queen Anne spent the summer in that place, "which was as hot as an oven," was to enable Mrs. Masham to admit such persons as desired secret interviews with her majesty, and they could be let in from the park without anybody being the wiser.

While at this cottage, the victory of Oudenarde was announced to her majesty. When she heard that it had been won at the cost of two thousand lives, she exclaimed: "O Lord! when will all this dreadful bloodshed cease?" Nevertheless, etiquette required her to write a letter of congratulation and thanks to the victorious Duke of Marlborough, which she did at once.

Public thanksgiving for the victory took place in the usual way at St. Paul's Cathedral on the nineteenth of August. As her husband was the victor, the Duchess of Marlborough considered herself the heroine of the day, and bustled about to make herself as important as possible. Her office of mistress of the robes imposed upon her several duties, and among others, the arrangement of the queen's jewels as she chose to have them worn. When the royal cortÈge was approaching the cathedral, the duchess chanced to cast her eyes over the costume of her majesty, and observed that the jewels were absent. This was a mark of disrespect that she would not stand, so she began scolding in such way that the queen lost her temper, and the two ladies quarrelled and abused each other until they got inside the church, when the duchess angrily bade the queen "to hold her tongue." This was too much. Her majesty had borne a great deal from her friend, but such an insult aroused her indignation. Perhaps the duchess repented of her hasty speech; for a day or two later she took occasion to send the following humble note with a letter from her husband:—

"I cannot help sending your majesty this letter to show how exactly Lord Marlborough agrees with me in opinion that he has now no interest with you, though when I said so in the church last Thursday you were pleased to say it was untrue."

"And yet, I think he will be surprised to hear that when I had taken so much pains to put your jewels in a way that I thought you would like, Mrs. Masham could make you refuse to wear them in so unkind a manner; because that was a power she had not thought fit to exercise before.

"I will make no reflections on it, only that I must needs observe that your majesty chose a very wrong day to mortify me when your were just going to return thanks for a victory obtained by my Lord Marlborough!"

No doubt the queen thought, as anybody might, that a great deal of fuss had been made about a trifling matter, for she sent the following reply:—

"After the commands you gave me on the thanksgiving day not to answer, I should not have troubled you with these lines; but, to return the Duke of Marlborough's letter safe into your hands, and for the same reason, I do not say anything to that or to yours which enclosed it."

What a pity it is that the queen did not always behave with the same dignity, when dealing with the haughty, domineering duchess! If she had, many a heartache and many an insult she might have spared herself. Another letter, still more meek in its tone, was sent in reply; but open warfare had been declared between the friends of former years, and the duchess had no chance of ever regaining her sway over her sovereign's heart.

Her husband's ill health was a matter of greater concern to Queen Anne just then than anything else could be; and, within a week after the stormy scene at St. Paul's, she set out with him for the west of England, hoping that change of air might benefit him. They travelled by easy stages until they arrived at Bath, a favorite resort, where Anne often went for her own health.

That autumn a fine statue of the queen that had been modeled by Bird, the sculptor, was finished, and placed at the west door of St. Paul's, where it still stands. Although it is said to be a perfect likeness, it is considered by no means an excellent work of art, notwithstanding its having cost over five hundred pounds. Just when it was erected, there was a report current that the queen intended to free herself from the tyranny of the Duchess of Marlborough. That was enough to strike terror to the hearts of the Whigs; for with their ruler in disgrace, they could hope for no better fate than banishment,—at least from the public treasury, whence they were generously helping themselves. Their only chance then was to calumniate the queen and make her as unpopular as possible, so that when it came to the point their party would be too strong for her to resist. So they accused her of all sorts of vices in circulars that were daily distributed among the populace. One charge brought against her was that of intoxication, because one of her enemies had said "that she got drunk every day as a remedy to keep the gout from her stomach." Had this been a fact, the Duchess of Marlborough would certainly have been one of her first accusers, but even in her most malignant moods she never mentions such a fact. However, the Whig physician, Dr. Garth, wrote an epigram which was found fastened to the statue the day after it appeared in front of St. Paul's Cathedral. It ran thus:—

"Here mighty Anne's statue placed we find,

Betwixt the daring passions of her mind;

A brandy-shop before, a church behind:

But why thy back turned to that sacred place,

As thy unhappy father's was to grace?

Why here, like Tantalus, in torments placed,

To view those waters which thou canst not taste?

Though, by thy proffer'd globe we may perceive,

That for a dram, thou the whole world would'st give."

It must be remembered that this was written by an enemy; very different is the poetry under an engraving of the queen and her consort at the British Museum, and forms a pleasing contrast to the above:—

"The only married queen that ne'er knew strife,

Controlling monarchs, but submissive wife,

Like angels' sighs her downy passions move,

Tenderly loving and attractive love.

Of every grace and virtue she's possessed—

Was mother, wife, and queen, and all the best"

On her return from Bath the queen congratulated herself on her husband's improvement; but he knew that it was only momentary, and when she was preparing for a hunting excursion at Newmarket he begged her not to leave him. He felt that he had not long to live, and he was right, for he died before the close of the month, at Kensington Palace. Queen Anne had been a happy wife for twenty years, and the death of the prince-consort was a dreadful blow, though she had witnessed his declining health for many months. Even at the moment of her greatest bereavement, the Duchess of Marlborough forced herself into the presence of the queen, and insisted upon leading her from the room after the prince was dead. Anne treated her with excessive coldness, merely submitting to the arrangements she had made for her removal to St. James's Palace, because she was too miserable to oppose her.

The interment of the prince-consort took place on the thirteenth of November. The funeral was private, which only means that it was performed by torchlight at night, for it was attended by all the ministers and great officers of state. The court went into mourning, and all the theatres were closed for a month.

A.D. 1709. The duchess continued to watch Queen Anne very closely, and was shocked when fires were ordered to be made in the apartments occupied by the late prince-consort, also in those below, the two being connected by a private back staircase. They were for her majesty and Mrs. Masham, and strong suspicions were aroused in the mind of the active watch-dog that this arrangement was effected for the purpose of granting interviews with her political opponents. She, therefore, took the queen to task for such an irregular mode of proceeding, and raising her eyes and hands in holy horror, said: "I'm amazed!" But the queen made no reply, and probably no change in her plans just then, for she was so absorbed in grief that she took no interest in anything for many months. She was not sufficiently recovered in spirits to open parliament the following May, but she issued a general pardon, particularly to those who had been in correspondence with the Court of St. Germain, and it was confirmed. This was for the protection of Lord-treasurer Godolphin as well as herself, for she was always in mortal terror lest the Marlborough family should proclaim to the world the part she had played in the revolution. Therefore she dared not exasperate the duchess, nor could she remove her until the duke had accumulated wealth sufficient to render the stability of the government a matter of personal interest with him. The duchess understood this perfectly, and made the queen feel her power, as we have seen.

Another victory won by the Duke of Marlborough forced her majesty to reappear in public. This was Malplaquet; but twenty thousand British subjects had lost their lives on the battle-field, and Queen Anne joined the thanksgiving procession with a heavy heart, and with eyes red and swollen from weeping. She could not rejoice over a victory at such a sacrifice. The details of the war filled her with horror, and she longed to put an end to the dreadful slaughter; but the victorious duke's return gave her little encouragement in that respect, for he demanded of the queen "her patent to make him captain-general for life, because the war would not only last through their lives, but probably forever." Anne was perfectly amazed at this extraordinary speech, but dismissed the subject by answering: "That she would take time to consider it," and afterwards asked Lord-chancellor Cowper: "In what words would you draw a commission which is to render the Duke of Marlborough captain-general of my armies for life?"

Lord Cowper stared as though he thought her majesty had taken leave of her senses, and then warmly expressed his disapproval of such a proceeding. "Well, talk to the Duke of Marlborough about it," replied the queen, without telling him that she had never intended to make the appointment. Cowper obeyed, and assured the duke "that he would never put the great seal of England to such a commission." The Duke of Argyle and several other noblemen were secretly brought to confer with the queen on this subject, and she asked what she should do if her refusal to appoint Marlborough captain-general for life should prompt him to make an attack on the crown. The Duke of Argyle replied: "Her majesty need not worry, for he would undertake, if ever she commanded it, to seize

the Duke of Marlborough, at the head of his troops, and bring him before her, dead or alive!"

It was Harley who brought this secret council together, and the Marlboroughs hated him worse than ever when they discovered it. They had gone a step too far, and the division in their own party in consequence caused the duke to withdraw his request.

Her majesty having expressed her intention to lay aside her mourning at the Christmas festival, which was close at hand, intercourse became necessary between her and the duchess, who was mistress of the robes. This was a signal for the renewal of hostilities, beginning with lodgings and situations for chambermaids and other members of the royal household; for the tyrant duchess insisted on her right to make every appointment of that sort. Many severe letters passed between her and the queen on this subject, and it became necessary to inform her on one or two occasions that she had rather overstepped the mark when claiming "her rights." The storm was at its height when the duchess discovered that her majesty, without asking permission, had ordered a bottle of wine to be allowed daily to a sick laundress who had washed her laces for twenty years. Thereupon she raved like an angry fishwife, and her voice was raised to such a pitch that the footmen at the back-stairs heard every word she uttered. The queen, unable to contend with such a vixen, rose to leave the room; but the irate duchess whisked past her, slammed the door, posted her back against it, and informed her royal mistress "that she should hear her out, for that was the least favor she could do her for having set the crown on her head and kept it there." This tirade was kept up for nearly an hour; then Sarah of Marlborough finished by saying "that she did not care if she never saw her majesty again," and flounced out of the room as the queen calmly replied, "that she thought, indeed, the more seldom the better."

It is hard to comprehend how a sovereign could submit to such humiliating scenes, but she knew that the chief cause of complaint with the duchess regarding the wine arose from the fact of the laundress having once served Mrs. Masham, who, it was supposed, was the instigator of the queen's beneficent act. Even then such petty jealousy, and such absurdly, undignified behavior give a poor opinion to the world of the lofty duchess's head and heart. She and the queen scarcely spoke after this; but a day or two before Christmas she wrote a letter to her majesty lecturing her on the necessity of entering on the religious services of the season with a spirit of meekness and forgiveness for injuries. Some passages were so insolent that the letter was not answered; but as the queen passed to the altar of St. James's Chapel, she bestowed a gracious smile on the writer.

A.D. 1710. The new year opened with the queen at Hampton Court, considering the best means for breaking loose from the trammels of the Whig party, headed by the Marlborough family. It was a difficult step, but she was determined to take it, and for that purpose summoned Harley to her presence in the most secret manner possible. His advice was to begin by filling the post of lieutenant of the Tower, just vacated by the death of the Earl of Essex, as her majesty chose, without consulting anybody. In consequence, the Earl of Rivers was appointed to this great office, whereupon the duchess flew into a rage, and declared that a man who had borne the nickname of "Tyburn Dick" in his youth, having barely escaped conviction at the criminal bar for robbing his own father, was no fit person for such an honor. But this is how he had managed to obtain it: No sooner did he hear of the death

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of Essex than he hastened to the presence of the Duke of Marlborough with the news, adding a request that the great man would interest himself with the queen to secure the vacant post for him. It was not the duke's way to give a decided refusal, nor did he hesitate to make promises that he had not the slightest intention of fulfilling; so, after complimenting "Tyburn Dick," and loading him with offers of kindness, the duke advised him to "think of something better than the lieutenancy of the Tower, as the place was not worthy of his talent." However, the man was determined, and said: "He was going to ask the queen for the appointment, and would tell her that his grace had no objection." Marlborough, who never dreamed that the queen would take an important step without consulting him, told Lord Rivers that "he might say so if he pleased;" whereupon the petitioner lost not a moment in seeking an audience of the queen, who, on hearing what Marlborough had said, with the adornments Lord Rivers chose to add, made the appointment at once. As the new lieutenant of the Tower passed out of the royal presence he made the duke, who was just entering, a most profound bow, and rubbed his hands with delight as he left the palace. But we know that the duke had not intended that Rivers should succeed Essex, and the object of his present visit to her majesty was to propose the Duke of Northumberland instead. He was amazed to find that he was too late, and made serious complaints to the queen, who asked him, "whether Earl Rivers had asserted what was not true." The duke could not say that he had, and so there was no redress; but, when her majesty followed up this appointment by one for colonel of a regiment, Lord Godolphin was as indignant as the duke himself, and she was forced to withdraw.

Before departing for his campaign the Duke of Marlborough sought an interview with the queen, and requested that his wife might be permitted to remain in the country as much as possible, and that as soon as peace was made her resignation might be accepted in favor of her daughters. The queen granted the first part of the request with alacrity, delighted at the prospect of being relieved of the presence of her tyrant, but made no reply with regard to the daughter's, on whom she intended to bestow no favors whatever.

Now a most important trial took place this year, that created intense excitement, and occupied the court for three entire weeks. It was that of Dr. Sacheverel, a representative of an ancient Norman family, who had been impeached, chiefly on charges connected with the church; but, as this affair is excessively dry and uninteresting, it is only necessary to mention it because of its bearing on the position of Queen Anne. Dr. Sacheverel belonged to her party, and she was so much interested in his trial that she sat to witness it every day in a curtained box at Westminster Hall. At the end of the contest the doctor was sentenced to suspend his preaching for three years, which was almost equivalent to acquittal. The lower classes showed clearly that they were for their "good Queen Anne," and that they were ready to rise in her defence against the Whig ministry whenever she should say the word. This feeling, which was so clearly manifested, encouraged the queen to take measures to free herself from the Marlboroughs and their party. The duchess made several attempts at private interviews, but was always repulsed, until she became convinced at last that Queen Anne would see her only at public receptions, or when official duties required it. The Marlborough family conclave were convinced that their days were numbered when the Tory Duke of Shrewsbury was made lord-chamberlain of the royal household in place of the Whig Marquis of Kent. This was followed up by the removal of Lord Sunderland from his office of secretary of state. This young man, as son-in-law of the Duchess of Marlborough, had heard her majesty spoken of with so much disrespect that he had on several occasions behaved most rudely, and he was removed for this reason, more than for any adherence to the Whig party.

The colonel whom her majesty had desired to appoint when she met with such violent opposition was Jack Hill, brother to Mrs. Masham, her favorite bed-chamber woman. She made another attempt, and positively declared that she would not sign a single one of the Duke of Marlborough's numerous commissions until her will was obeyed in this matter. This was alarming, for the duke received payment for these commissions; so he gave in at once and signed Jack Hill's appointment without further parley. Queen Anne forthwith sent the new officer to make an attack on Quebec, as the conquest of Canada was deemed an important measure for the security of the British possessions in America. Much to the delight of the Marlborough party, Jack Hill's attempt was a failure.

The duchess was so angry at the dismissal of her son-in-law that she sent a letter to her husband, which he was to copy and forward to her majesty as though it were expressive of his own wrath, but he tossed it into the fire. But the irrepressible duchess had it intimated to the queen through David Hamilton, one of the court physicians, "that if she persisted in ruining her party all her fond and friendly letters of former days should be published, and forwarded on lest 'dear Mrs. Morley' might have forgotten how high her opinion had been of Mrs. Freeman, at that date." The queen kept her own letter, and demanded all the rest,saying: "She was sure the duchess did not now value them." Not another one found its way to the queen, for they were weapons too powerful to be lightly parted with.

The next dismissal was that of the queen's long-trusted lord-treasurer, Godolphin. Several of his friends expressed their concern at this move on the part of her majesty. She merely replied, "I am sorry for it, but could not help it," and then turned out Lord Rialton, another of the Marlborough sons-in-law. The office of lord-treasurer was placed in the hands of seven commissioners, with Mr. Harley at their head.

The Duke of Marlborough wrote his wife that he had heard of an assassin being on his way from Vienna to England with designs against the queen's life, and requested that the utmost care might be taken lest he should gain access to the royal presence. Here was a chance for the duchess to ingratiate herself once more in the queen's favor; so she drove post haste to court, and with a most important air demanded admittance, "on a matter of life and death." Her majesty refused to see her, whereupon the duchess sent her husband's letter by a messenger. One of Queen Anne's peculiarities was indifference to personal danger, so without heeding the warning, she merely returned the duke's letter with a line, saying: "Just as I was coming down stairs I received yours, so could not return enclosed until I got back." This was the last written sentence that ever passed between the queen and the duchess.

Many of the ancient nobility who had never approached the English court since the revolution paid their respects to Queen Anne as soon as she had rid herself of the Marl-boroughs. But the principal one of that party still remained, for nobody had the courage to approach the terrible creature with any but flattering news; so it was determined to await the return of the only person in the world who could manage her, and that was the duke himself.

Meanwhile the daring woman, who retained her office in defiance of sovereign, prime minister, and all the other high officials, drove about town in her magnificent coach, and made visits to different members of her party for the purpose of calumniating the queen. She was not permitted to enter the royal presence, and kept the gold keys that really belonged to the new officials; but she boldly declared that her majesty would soon want new gowns, and then she would be compelled to come to her to give orders for them. But she was mistaken, for on the return of the duke in December there was to be an end of her influence with the queen in every particular. On his arrival in London the duke took a hack and drove direct to St. James's, where he had a private half hour's interview with the queen. In his peculiar plaintive tone of voice he lamented his connection with the Whigs, and told her majesty "that he was worn out with fatigue, age, and misfortunes," and added "that he was neither covetous nor ambitious,"—at which she could scarcely suppress a smile. At the close of the interview the queen requested him to tell his wife "that she wished back her gold keys as groom of the stole and mistress of the robes." The duke remonstrated, but the queen merely replied: "It was for her honor that the keys should be returned forthwith."

The duke entreated that this matter might be delayed until after the peace, which must take place the ensuing summer, when he and his wife would retire together. The queen would not delay the return of the keys one week. The duke fell on his knees and begged for a respite of ten days; the queen compromised, and named three as the utmost limit. Two days later the duke again presented himself at St. James's on urgent business; but her majesty refused to speak with him, unless he had brought the gold keys. Thereupon he returned home to get them, when a stormy scene ensued, which ended by his wife throwing the key's at his head. When the queen received them from the duke's hands, she said, "she valued them more than if he had brought her the spoils of an enemy."

A.D. 1711. Early in the following year Queen Anne divided between the Duchess of Somerset and Mrs. Ma-sham the offices formerly held by the Duchess of Marlborough, the former being made mistress of the robes and groom of the stole; the latter, keeper of the privy-purse. On the second of May Queen Anne's uncle, the Earl of Rochester, died suddenly of apoplexy.

Although Anne was his own niece, the earl had never concealed from her his opinion that she had no right to the crown she wore; but he had consented to aid her in the government, and was, as we know, made president of the council. But he entertained to the last day of his life the hope that he should see the son of James II. restored to the throne, and was the means of causing several letters to pass between James Stuart, or the Chevalier de St. George, as he was then called, and the queen.

The Duke of Buckingham succeeded Rochester; and, being a relation of the queen's, a most friendly feeling existed between them. Once, after reading a long letter presented by him from her brother, the Chevalier de St. George, in which he set forth his claim to the throne, Queen Anne turned to Buckingham, and asked: "How can I serve him, my lord? You well know that a papist cannot enjoy this crown in peace. Why has the example of my father no weight with his son? He prefers his religious errors to the throne of a great kingdom. He must thank himself, therefore, for his own exclusion. All would be easy if he would join the Church of England. Advise him to change his religion, my lord."

Although Queen Anne spoke thus, she knew that her brother would not renounce Catholicism, and she had no intention of aiding him to the throne unless he did. She favored the succession of the Protestant house of Hanover; but the Princess Sophia, who was the heiress of that line, had emphatically declared that if the young prince and princess of the house of Stuart would become members of the Church of England, their claim should never be disputed, nor would it have been, as future events proved.

Throughout the summer Queen Anne suffered so much from gout that she could scarcely stir from her bed, but she held her receptions all the same, and the crowd was often so great that only those nearest the bed could get sight of her. In the autumn she was better, and received ambassadors from France to negotiate for peace. One evening in October her majesty mentioned publicly at supper "that she had agreed to treat with France, and that she did not doubt but that in a little time she should be able to announce to her people that which she had long desired,—a general peace for Europe."

But she had not yet secured peace at home, for matters took such a turn that the new ministry insisted on the removal of the Duchess of Somerset, and when her majesty returned to the palace from the parliament meeting she asked for the Duchess of Marlborough. One of the latter's friends rushed to her, without a moment's delay, and told her that if she would go to the queen then she might, with a few flattering words, overthrow her enemies, but she indignantly refused. The queen had new ground for complaint against the duchess when she took possession of her new palace, just completed in St. James's Park; for the apartments she left in the queen's palace were bereft of locks, bolts, mirrors, marble slabs, and pictures, and looked as though a destructive army had sacked them. The duke lamented the strange conduct of his wife when he got back, but declared "that there was no help for it, and a man must bear a good deal to lead a quiet life at home." But this confession did not prevent his dismissal from the army. He was succeeded by the Duke of Ormond, who was ordered not to gain victories, but to keep the British forces in a state of armed neutrality until peace was concluded.

It was at this time that Mr. Masham was made a peer, because her majesty was urged to it by some of her ministers, but she said that she had never any intention of making Abigail a great lady, and feared that by so doing she had lost a useful servant. But Lady Masham promised to continue in the office of dresser to her majesty even though she was a peeress.

A.D. 1712. Nothing had given the queen so much trouble since the death of the prince-consort as that of her beautiful sister, the Princess Louisa, which occurred suddenly at St. Germain. An account of this sad event is given in the story of Mary Beatrice of Modena.

Anne was ill herself in the autumn from intermittent fever, from which she never entirely recovered.

Dean Swift was anxious to become a bishop at this period, and applied for the see of Hereford, which Queen Anne was disposed to grant, because she had never heard of him as anything but a partisan of the church. But he and Lady Masham had been friends for a long time, and she had frequently warned him to destroy the witty, satirical, offensive articles he had shown her about her majesty, the Duchess of Somerset, and others. The queen knew nothing about these writings, but the Duchess of Somerset did, so she secured the aid of Dr. Sharpe, Arch- bishop of York, to prevent the appointment. When her majesty consulted the archbishop on the subject, he startled her with this question: "Ought not your sacred majesty to be first certain whether Dr. Swift is a Christian before he becomes a bishop?" The queen asked him what he could possibly mean, whereupon, having armed himself with "The Tale of a Tub," and other works of Swift, he handed them to her. She was amazed at what she read, and ashamed of the slanderous puns addressed to herself, for she had not suspected their existence. It is needless to add that Swift was not raised to the bishopric of England, but the following year he was appointed Dean of St. Patrick's in Ireland.

A.D. 1713. The treaty of peace that Queen Anne had so long and so earnestly desired was at last signed at Utrecht, and the French ambassador, Duc d'Aumont, soon after arrived in London to confer with her majesty on this subject. He addressed the most flattering speeches to her, and presented her with the nine beautiful gray Flemish horses with which he had made his public entrance into the metropolis.

Parliament met soon after; and the queen's speech, announcing peace, after eleven years of warfare, was anxiously awaited. But she was too ill with gout, which had affected different parts of her body, to be able to appear in the house of lords until the ninth of April, and then her voice was painfully weak from her long suffering. Her majesty offered Louis IV. the Order of the Garter in honor of the signing of the peace; but the most interesting event to us of the present day connected with it is that the great composer, Handel, wrote his magnificent Jubilate to celebrate it.

As time went on the queen's health grew no better, and she was such an enormous eater that frequent attacks of gout were the result,—particularly as she had grown so corpulent from her other disease, dropsy, that she could take no exercise, and had to be lowered and raised from one floor to another in the palace by means of a chair worked with pulleys and ropes. She was in constant dread lest her brother should land in England, or George of Hanover present himself at court to claim his place as her successor. She, therefore, wrote two letters, one to Princess Sophia, Dowager Electress of Brunswick, the other to George Augustus, Duke of Cambridge, setting forth the danger of such a proceeding, and appealing to their honor. As we know, her fears were groundless in that direction; for the house of Hanover made no attempt to approach the shores of England, though there has been some dispute among historians as to their real intentions in this matter.

A.D. 1714. Queen Anne paid the ballad writer, Tom D'Urfey, a fee of fifty pounds for a verse he repeated one day while she was at dessert, that happened to tickle her fancy. As it refers to the Hanover succession, it is worth repeating:—

"The crown's far too weighty

For shoulders of eighty;

She could not sustain such a trophy.

Her hand, too, already

Has grown so unsteady

She can't hold a sceptre;

So Providence kept her

Away—poor old Dowager Sophy!"

Certainly D'Urfey did not earn his fifty pounds for the literary merit of the verse, but perhaps it was because it possessed so little that it pleased the queen. The Electress Sophia of Hanover, about whom it was written, died before the end of the year, at the age of eighty-four.

Queen Anne witnessed several stormy scenes among her ministers towards the end of July that caused her intense suffering. After each one she would sink into a swoon from exhaustion, and frequently said to her physician, Dr. Arbuthnot, "I shall never survive it." The councillors showed little consideration for her presence, and continued their quarrels, regardless of her ill health, though they must have seen the cruel effect. On the evening of July 29, there was to be another council meeting, which the sick queen dreaded more than all the others. When the hour drew near, Mrs. Danvers, one of the oldest ladies of the royal household, entered the presence chamber of Kensington Palace, and to her great surprise, beheld the queen standing before the clock with her eyes intently fixed on the dial plate. As her majesty had not for several months been able to move without assistance, Mrs. Danvers's surprise is early understood. She crossed the large room, the deep silence of which was only broken by the ticking of the clock, and approaching the queen, asked, "whether her majesty saw anything unusual there in the clock?" Without answering, Queen Anne turned slowly and looked at the speaker, who was so terrified at the ghastly, troubled expression on her face that she screamed for help. The queen was carried to bed by the people who had hastened to the summons, and raved in delirium for many hours about "the Pretender."

Doctor Arbuthnot passed the night at her bedside, with several other court physicians, and the invalid rallied; but the news of her condition spread like wild-fire all over London; and in the morning Dr. Mead, a Whig politician, was summoned. As soon as he had seen the royal invalid, he demanded that "those who were in favor of the Protestant succession should at once send a bulletin of her majesty's symptoms to the Elector of Hanover's physicians, who would soon say how long Queen Anne had to live: but he staked his professional reputation that her majesty would be no more long before such intelligence should be received." It has always been supposed that the peaceable proclamation of George I. was due to this physician's boldness.

But Queen Anne did not die quite as soon as Dr. Mead had predicted, which was within an hour, for she recovered consciousness and speech enough, after being bled a second time, to appoint the Duke of Shrewsbury prime minister.

He approached her bed, and asked her, "if she knew to whom she gave the white wand?"—the insignia of office.

"Yes," replied the queen, "to the Duke of Shrewsbury; for God's sake, use it for the good of my people." Shortly after her mind began to wander again, and she frequently exclaimed in a piteous tone: "Oh, my brother!—oh, my poor brother!"

The privy council assembled at her bedside; but she never recovered consciousness sufficient to pray or to speak rationally, and they soon withdrew.

To prevent a disturbance in the city, the lord-mayor was ordered to be particularly watchful; trained troops were held in readiness to act at a moment's warning, and an extra guard was placed at the Tower. The Jacobite party held a meeting, but decided, after a great deal of consideration, that they could do nothing towards proclaiming the Chevalier de St. George.

Between seven and eight o'clock, on the morning of August 1, 1714, Queen Anne expired, in the fiftieth year of her age, and the thirteenth of her reign. She died as her predecessor, William III., had done, on Sunday, and George I. was proclaimed king the same day. It must have been a bitter trial to the Jacobites to behold the Duke of Marl-

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borough, who, after a voluntary exile, returned to London the Wednesday succeeding Queen Anne's death, and made a grand triumphal entry, attended by hundreds of gentlemen on horseback, some of the nobility in coaches, and the city militia; but they had the satisfaction of seeing his own splendid carriage break down by Temple-Bar.

Queen Anne had done much good for her people, and no evil; and there never was a sovereign more deeply regretted. The Duchess of Marlborough wrote a most unjust, abusive description of her benefactress; but it is to be hoped our young readers will be able to form an estimate of her character for themselves.

Her remains were deposited in the vault on the south side of Henry VIII.'s Chapel, in Westminster, where lie Charles II., William III., and Prince George of Denmark. There was only one place left in this vault, and as soon as it received the last of the Stuart sovereigns it was bricked up. No monument nor tablet marks the resting-place of "good Queen Anne," though it seems as though the fondness of "the Bounty" deserved at least this trifling distinction from the Church of England.