Read Courting Her Highness Online
Authors: Jean Plaidy
Courting Her Highness (41 page)
The wit and the wine flowed freely and it was Harley who pointed out what Marlborough’s victory cost the country in taxes and the blood of its menfolk. He pointed out too that a country’s affairs were not guided so much by the sword as the pen—a theory which, since his listeners were wielders of the pen and not the sword, they were ready to endorse.
It was a theory, Harley pointed out, that he would like to put to the test. He did not see why it should not prove very effective.
The talk went on and it was profitable talk, so Harley told St. John afterwards. They would see whether his army of writers could not achieve as resounding a victory as Marlborough’s with his soldiers.
And over the Prince’s sleeping body Abigail Hill promised to become the wife of Samuel Masham.
“My dearest Soul,”
wrote Marlborough to Sarah. “My heart is full of joy for this good success that should I write more I should say a great many follies.”
Sarah kept his letters and read and re-read them. She had chided him after the affair of Ramillies, telling him what terrible anxiety he caused her by his recklessness.
“As I would deserve and keep the kindness of this Army [he replied], I must let them see that when I expose them I would not exempt myself. But I love you so well and am so desirous of ending my days quietly with you that I shall not venture myself but when it is absolutely necessary. I am so persuaded that this campaign will bring us a good peace that I beg of you do all you can that the house at Woodstock may be carried up as much as possible that I may have a prospect of living in it.”
She would do it. She would go down to Blenheim and harry them; she would give John Vanbrugh a talking to. But most important of all the war must be carried to a successful conclusion. The Whigs had made it clear that unless Sunderland—that Whig of Whigs—were made Secretary of State they would not give their support to the war; and even Godolphin admitted that the appointment was necessary if the means of carrying on the war were to be provided.
Sarah sent for him and he came humbly. He had been against the appointment in the first place and she had had to persuade him to it, but now he agreed with her.
“You see,” she said triumphantly. “Sunderland must have the appointment. The Whigs insist.”
Godolphin, who could always be browbeaten by Sarah, shook his head mournfully.
“The Queen continues stubborn.”
“She must be brought to heel.”
He could not resist a smile at the simile. Sarah talking as though the Queen of England was a dog! But Sarah saw nothing amusing in her remark. She was weary of the matter which she told herself should have been concluded long ago.
“I would write to Marl,” she said, “and get his support. The Queen would never be able to refuse him now. But he is so busy with his campaign and I feel it is a matter which we should be able to settle here.”
“If the Queen will relent for anyone it would be for you.”
That was true. “Leave it to me,” said Sarah. “I have been trying to persuade her. Now I shall have to force her.”
Godolphin said that he would write to the Queen and tell her that the prosecution of the war depended on the appointment. If that did not suffice, they must find some other means of persuading her.
The result was a letter from Anne in which she set out her objections to accepting Sunderland. When she was dealing with her Lord Treasurer she had a more valid reason to offer than the fact that she did not like Sunderland’s temper and did not feel she could have a good relationship with him.
Sunderland was a party man and in making a party man Secretary of State she was throwing herself into the hands of a party.
“That [she wrote], is something which I have been desirous to avoid, and what I have heard both the Duke of Marlborough and you say I should never do. All I desire is my liberty in encouraging and employing all those that concur faithfully in my service whether they are called Whigs or Tories—and not to be tied to one or the other; for if I shall be so unfortunate as to fall into the hands of either, I shall look upon myself, though I have the name of Queen, to be in reality but their slave.”
This was reasonable, Godolphin had to admit; but it was necessary, if there was to be Whig support for the war, to secure Sunderland’s appointment.
Sarah was never inclined to listen to anyone else’s point of view. Godolphin was too mild, she said, so she would take over. She began by
writing long letters to the Queen in which, because they were written by Mrs. Freeman to Mrs. Morley, she seemed completely to forget the respect she owed her sovereign. Sarah was angry and impatient and she believed that Anne was quite devoted to her and was in such need of her friendship, that she would accept any insult.
“Your security and the nation’s is my chief wish [she wrote], and I beg of God Almighty as sincerely as I shall do for his pardon at my last hour, that Mr. and Mrs. Morley may see their errors as to this notion before it is too late; but considering how little impression anything makes that comes from your faithful Freeman, I have troubled you too much and I beg your pardon for it.”
Anne was with Abigail when this letter arrived and, reading it through, paused when she came to the word notion. Sarah had written in great haste and her scrawl was not always easy to read; and Anne read the word notion as nation.
A dull resentment seized her. Was Mrs. Freeman suggesting that she and dear George had wronged the nation? Oh, but this was too much to take—even from Mrs. Freeman.
“Hill,” she called. “Hill, come here.”
Hill came and stood demurely before her, but there was alarm in the good creature’s eyes. “Your Majesty is unwell?”
Anne shook her head. “I am … disturbed. I think my eyes deceive me. Yours are younger. Read this to me. Begin there.”
Abigail read in a clear distinct voice: “… Mr. and Mrs. Morley may see their errors as to this nation …”
There! She had read it. It was true. Abigail was staring at the Queen with round horrified eyes.
“But, Madam …”
“It is most uncalled for!” cried the Queen, almost in tears, “the welfare of the nation has been my chief concern since I came to the throne.”
“Madam,” said Abigail. “I am overcome with shame that a connection of mine could be capable of such … such falsehood.”
“There, Hill. You must not be upset. She has whipped herself to a fury, I suppose. I shall try to forget it.”
“And Your Majesty wishes to answer this … insult.”
“No, Hill, I think I shall ignore it.”
It was Lord
Godolphin who heard the reason for the Queen’s silence. She showed him the letter.
“It would seem,” said Anne coolly, “that the Duchess of Marlborough forgets that I am the Queen.”
He read the letter and stuttered over it.
“But, Madam,” he said, “the word is not nation. It is notion.”
“Notion,” repeated Anne. “… may see their errors as to this notion … That is different, of course. But you will agree with me, my lord Treasurer, that the tone of the letter is scarcely that of a subject to her Sovereign.”
Godolphin smiled apologetically. “The relationship between Your Majesty and the Duchess has not always been that of Sovereign and subject. I will tell the Duchess of this unfortunate mistake and I doubt not that she will wish to write you an apology.”
Anne was pleased, for although this matter of Sunderland was very tiresome indeed she could not bear to be on bad terms with Sarah.
In due course Sarah’s “apology” reached the Queen.
“Your Majesty’s great indifference and contempt in taking no notice of my last letter, did not so much surprise me as to hear my Lord Treasurer say you had complained much of it, which makes me presume to give you this trouble to repeat what I can be very positive was the aim of the letter and I believe very near the words.…”
She then set out more or less what she had written in the previous letter in the same high-handed manner and gave it into Godolphin’s hands to deliver.
Anne however still kept her resentment against Sarah and confided to Abigail that she was heartily sick of this matter of Sunderland and the Secretaryship; and Godolphin was obliged to report to Sarah that she was
no nearer her goal than she had been when the unfortunate letter writing had begun.
But Sarah was more determined than ever to have her way and she wrote to the Duke and told him that he must write to her and tell her that if the Queen did not make Sunderland Secretary of State he would resign from the Queen’s armies.
When Marlborough realized that the Whigs would withdraw their support unless Sunderland received the appointment he was obliged to give his consent; and this letter Sarah sent to the Queen.
It was the ultimatum. Anne needed Marlborough, and she could not endure the thought of Sarah’s leaving Court.
She gave way, because there was nothing else to do. But she was resentful.
She sat silently while Abigail poulticed her feet, and when Sarah’s name was mentioned her lips hardened, her fan went to her lips and stayed there.
arley, watching events closely, was not sure
how great a victory this was for the Churchills; indeed he was hoping that it might be turned to a defeat. Anne had been shown that she had not a free hand to choose her ministers. It was a blow for her. With the appointment of Sunderland the Tories were now out of the Privy Council; the Whigs were in power and the only Tories who remained in office were Robert Harley and Henry St. John, two men on whom Marlborough and Godolphin had believed they could rely.
Sarah was triumphant. She was more arrogant than ever.
But Abigail was aware of a great confidence which had come to Robert Harley; and she shared in it.
She had told the Queen that Samuel Masham had asked her to marry him and Anne was delighted. She would give the marriage her blessing, which meant a handsome dowry as well; and she did not suggest that Sarah should be told.
That was significant. The relationship between Mrs. Morley and Mrs. Freeman had not been strengthened by Mrs. Freeman’s victory.