During that interval Queen Mary's navy met with two disastrous defeats, and the king had lost the hard-fought, bloody battle of Landen in Flanders. The people of England were groaning under the weight of heavy taxation, and general dissatisfaction with the government was openly expressed. There had been several dishonest prime ministers; but previous to his departure the king appointed Charles Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, to that important position.
We have not said anything about the little Duke of Gloucester for a long time; but it must not, therefore, be supposed that he was forgotten either by his mother or his royal aunt. He lived at Campden House, and was taken daily to visit the queen whenever she was at Kensington.
A.D. 1694. Princess Anne was very desirous that her son should be made a Knight of the Garter; but her relations with the queen were such that she dared not ask it. However, she sent the prince to visit her majesty one day with a broad blue ribbon passed over his shoulder and fastened down on the left side as a reminder. No notice was taken of it; but the child had evidently been taught that something was to be accorded him in connection with the ribbon, for when the queen offered him a brilliantly-colored bird, he looked very sober, and said, "He would not rob her majesty of it."
When he had attained his fifth year, the prince's mother thought it high time that he should be put into masculine attire, and consulted her husband about it, saying that the clothing he was wearing interfered with his military amusements. An order was accordingly given to Lady Fitzhard-ing, who procured for the child a suit of white cloth with silver loops and buttons, and a periwig. Under his waistcoat he wore a stiff corset that hurt him dreadfully. His tailor, Mr. Hughes, was sent for to remedy the trouble, and when he appeared at Campden House he was surprised to find himself surrounded by a score of mimic soldiers,—the little prince having summoned his regiment to punish the man who had caused him pain. There is no telling how far the little urchins would have gone, for they were beating and mauling Mr. Hughes at a great rate, when Lewis Jenkins, the usher, appeared to inquire into the cause of the racket. An explanation followed, and, upon the tailor's giving a faithful promise that he would alter the stays to fit his little highness, he was released. One day the little regiment was busily drilling in Kensington Gardens, while the king and queen watched their movements with a great deal of interest. Suddenly the Duke of Gloucester approached his uncle, and gravely offered himself and his whole troop for the Flemish war. Then turning to Queen Mary, he added: "My mamma once had guards as well as you; why has she not now?" Her majesty colored and looked surprised, while the king offered the drummer of the regiment two guineas as a reward for the noise he could make; whereupon the little fellow drowned any further awkward questioning. Of course, Queen Mary knew very well that the prince could not remember when his mother's guard had been dismissed, therefore all the knowledge he had of it was what he had heard from his parents.
The Duke of Gloucester's soldiers were often a nuisance to the neighborhood; for on their way home after drill they would enter houses on the road to London, and help themselves to any dainty bit of food the larder happened to contain. This they did in imitation of the soldiers quartered in the vicinity of London, and felt especially privileged as "Gloucester's men." Like most people who ape others, it was the bad qualities these little boys selected.
Next time King William returned from Flanders he found the bribery and corruption in his government just as bad as ever, and the new prime minister worse than the old ones had been. Parliament was opened, and charges of the gravest character were brought even against the queen's immediate attendants, in some of whom she reposed the utmost confidence. This was a source of great trouble to Queen Mary, and in the midst of it Archbishop Tillotson fell dead in the pulpit one Sunday while performing the service.
Christmas was approaching, and the royal pair decided to spend it quietly at Kensington Palace. By the twentieth of December the queen was so ill that she must have had some doubts as to her recovery, for she sat up at her secretary the whole night examining and burning papers that she desired nobody to see. Perhaps this occupation aggravated her illness, for she grew worse, and two days later was considered in danger. Princess Anne sent to ask permission to wait on her majesty. The message was delivered to the first lady-in-waiting, who went into the bed-chamber where the queen lay, and in a few moments returned with the message, "That the king would send an answer the next day."
But the only message received by the Princess Anne was a request to postpone her visit, because it was necessary to keep the queen as quiet as possible. The king was so distressed at his wife's danger that he had his camp-bed removed to her room, and remained with her night and day.
At last Archbishop Tennison, who had replaced Tillotson, informed the queen that her end was drawing near. She was not at all surprised, and said, "That she thanked God she had left nothing to the last hour; she had then nothing to do but to look up to God and submit to His will."
Then the last rites of the church were administered; but the queen did not die until the twenty-eighth of December, in the sixth year of her reign, and the thirty-third of her age. Not a word had the dead woman left for the sister with whom she had quarrelled; not an expression of sorrow or regret for the father whom she had injured.