Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1856-12-18
Death of Queen Marys Wife of
William III.

At length the infection (the small pox).
spread to the palace and reached the young
and blooming Queen. She received the
intimation of her danger with true great
ness of soul. She gave orders that every
lady of her bed-chamber, every maid of
honor nay, every menial servant who had
had not the smallpox should instantly leave
Kensington House. She locked herself up
during short time in her closet, burned
some papers. arranged others, and then
calmly awaited her fate. During two or
three days there were many alterations of
hope and fear. The physicians contradicted
each other and themselves in way which
suficien, !y indicates the state of medical
science in that age. The disease was meas
les; it was scarlet fever; it was spotted fe-
yer; it was erysipelas. At one moment some
symptoms which in truth showed that the
case was almost hopel ,ss, wera hailed
as indications of returning health. At
length all doubt was over, Radclffe's opin-
ions proved to be right. 1t was plain that
the Queen was sinking under small, pox of
the most malignant type.
TAll this time William remained night
and day near her bedside. The little couch
on which he slept when he was in camp,
wasrPfead for him in s1Se an1e-cnambef,
but he scarcely lay down on it. The sight
of his misery, the Dutch envoy wrote, was
enough to melt the hardest heart. Nothing
seemed to be left of the man whose serene
fortitude had bee the wonder of OLD soldiers
on the disastrous day OF Linden and of old
sailors on that fearful night among the sheets
of ice and banks of sand on the coast of
Goree. The very domestics saw the tears
running unchecked down that face, of which
the stern composure had seldom been dis
turbed by any triumph or by any defeat
Several of the prelates were in attendance.
The King drew Burnet aside, and gave way
to an agony of grief. :There is no hope,"
he cried. 81 was the happiest man on
earth, and | an the most miserable. She
had no fault, none; you knew her well, but
you could not, nobody but myself could,
know her goodness"
Tension undertook to tell her that she
was dying. He was afraid that such COM
munication, abruptly made, might agitate
her violently, and began with much man.
agement. But she soon caught his mean
i 10, and with that gentle womanly courage
which often puts our bravery to shame, SUBJ
mitted herself to the will of God She
called for small cabinet in which her most
important papers were locked up, gave Or
ders that as soon as she was no more, it
should be delivered to the King, aud then
dism ;sed worldly cares from her mind
She received the Eucharist, and repeated
her part of the office with unimpaired men,
ory and intelligence, though in feeble
voice. She observed that Tension had been
long standing at her bedside, and, with that
sweet courtesy which was habitual to her,
faltered out her commands that he would sit
down, and repeated them till he obeyed.
After she had received the sacrament she
sank rapidly, and uttered only few broken
words. Twice she tried to take a last fare.
well of him whom she had loved SO truly
and entirely, but she was unable to speak.
He had a succession Of fits so alarming that
his Privy Councillors, who we're assembled
in the next room, were-apprehensive for his
reason and his life. The Duke of Leeds
at the request OF his colleagues, ventured g
assume the friendly guardianship of which
minds deranged by sorrow stand in need
A few minutes before the Queen expired
William was removed, almost insensible
. from the sick room.-Macauldy.