Lewisburg Chronicle

The Queen and the Quakeress

In the summer of 1818, her late majesty, Queen Charlotte, visited Bath, accompanied by Princess Elizabeth. The waters soon effected such a respite from pain in the royal patient, that she proposed an excursion to a park of some celebrity in the neighborhood, then the estate of a rich widow lady belonging to the society of Friends. Notice was given of the Queen's intention, and a message returned that she would be welcome. Our illustrious traveler had, perhaps, never before any personal intercourse with a member of the persuasion whose votaries never voluntarily paid taxes to "the man George, called King by the vain ones." The lady and gentleman who were to attend the royal visitants had but feeble ideas of the reception to be expected. It was supposed that the Quaker would at least say "Thy Majesty," "Thy Highness," or "Madame."

The Royal carriage arrived at the lodge of the park, punctually at the appointed hour. No preparation appeared to have been made; no hostess or domestic stood ready to greet the guests. The porter's bell was rung; he stepped forth deliberately, with his broad brimmed beaver on, and unbendingly accosted the lord in waiting with, "What's thy will, friend?"

This was almost unreasonable. "Surely," said the nobleman, "your lady is aware that Her Majesty-go to your mistress, and say that the Queen is here."

"No, truly," answered the man, "it needeth not--I have no mistress or lady, but my friend Rachel Mills expects thee. Walk in."

The Queen and the Princess were handed out and walked up the avenue. At the door of the house stood the plainly attired Rachel, who, without a courtesy, but with a cheerful nod, said, "How's thee do, friend? I am glad to see thee and thy daughter. I wish thee well. Rest and refresh thee and thy people, before I show thee my grounds."
What could be said of such a person? Some condescension was attempted, implying that her majesty came not only to view the park, but to testify her esteem for the Society to which Mistress Mills belonged. Cool and unawed, she answered, "Yes, thou art right there. The Friends are well thought of by most folks: but they need not the praise of the world; for the rest, many strangers gratify their curiosity, by going over this place, and it is my custom to conduct them myself; therefore I will do the like by thee, friend Charlotte.

Moreover, I think well of thee, as a dutiful wife and mother. Thou hast had thy trials, and so has thy good partner, I wish thy grand child well through hers."

[She alluded to the Princess Charlotte.]

It was so evident that the Friends meant kindly, nay respectfully, that no offence could be taken. She escorted her guests through her estate. The Princess Elizabeth noticed in the hen-house a breed of poultry hitherto unknown to her, and expressed a wish to possess some of these rare fowls, imagining that Mrs. Mills would regard her wish as law; but the Quakeress merely remarked with her characteristic evasion, "They are rare, as thou sayest; but if they are to be purchased in this land or other countries, I know of few women likelier than thyself to procure them with ease."

Her Royal Highness more plainly expressed her desire to purchase some of those which she beheld.

"I do not buy and sell," answered Rachel.

"Perhaps you will give me a pair?" persevered the Princess.

"Nay, verily," replied Rachel Mills, "I have refused many friends-and that which I denied to my own kinswoman, Martha Ash, it becometh me not to grant to any.

We have long had it to say that these birds belong only to our house; and I can make no exception in thy favor."

This is a fact.-Sharpe's London Magazine.