MM ,.t i '¦< ¦*? 'I 'I'' !>r ¦j,'iv-'r'< "!' I - ' ¦> '. ,1 " ¦¦¦'^1 i':",{ i^ '¦''"¦i^it't^'rf ii r I' 1 lit 1 1 In 'I n'h fl *r!l;"'"' ¦iiiKi: ''r |3y5^.l>j. ^ Bought with the income ofthe Ellen Battell Eldridge Fund >^M!T^r:>'>.l^^w.-vw^^'t.'^W^^vy.'.'g THE QUEEN'S COMRADE ',,/;,/, f /,„, I,//..! _.U,ii.^://(:a-/ if / in r / I;' mi ij /i . HE QUEEN'S COM RADE The Life and Times of Sarah Duchess of Marlborough. By -J. FITZGERALD MOLLOY Author of " T'he Most Gorgeous Lady Blessington" " Court Life 'Below Stairs" " The Life and Adventures of Peg Woffington " WITH i8 PORTRAITS AND ILLUSTRATIONS VOL. I London HUTCHINSON Gf CO. NEW YORK: DODD MEAD AND COMPANY 1901 PRINTED BY HAZELL, WATSON, AND VINEY, LD. LONDOH AND AYLESBURY, ENGLAND. I PREFACE IF, as Carlyle says, " Biography is the most uni versally profitable, universally pleasant of all things, especially biography of distinguished indi viduals," it must be admitted that few life records so incontestably combine pleasure and profit as those of Sarah Jennings, first Duchess of Marlborough ; who, born at the Restoration, took some part in the Revolution, who defied one sovereign, swayed another, and saw six reign. In relating the eventful story of her days it is indispensable that pictures should be given of the courts in which she figured, the incidents that amused or the storms that shook them, the political events that led to comedy or tragedy, the characters who played important parts as kings or queens, princes and princesses, sycophants or conspirators, great officers of the state, courtesans, whispering pages of the back stau-s, bedchamber women, petty clerks of the palace ; all puppets of a brief hour, unconsciously posturing for posterity, their antics illustrating the Annals of vi preface their time, and producing the ever-changing drama known as history. In the following pages, politics have been avoided as much as possible, and merely treated as pivots on which human interests turned ; whilst letters — always a reflection of their writers' minds — have occasionally been given at length, to illustrate a character, or describe an event. And though no statement is made without authority, and scandal is not sedulously avoided, the unnecessary task of pointing a moral, that so frequently disfigures a tale, is unheeded. Many of the heretofore unpublished statements, anecdotes, and letters in this strange eventful life story, have been found in the thirty-four volumes of manuscripts originally collected by Sarah Duchess of Marlborough, as materials for the memoirs of her husband; only an inconsiderable pait of which could be used by their writer, Archdeacon Coxe ; who in describing the historic exploits of the duke, left himself little space to speak of the social episodes in the career of the indomitable duchess. At the biographer's death, these papers passed to the peaceful security of the British Museum, where time-stained and faded they still bear silent witness to the ambitions, passions, schemes, and ferments that stirred the souls of those whose actions made history. The " Account of her Conduct " and her " Vindi cation " written by the duchess shortly before her death, preface vii together with her " Private Correspondence " and her " Opinions," have been freely quoted from ; and letters are given which were for the first time printed in the Reports of the Historical MS. Commission, on the papers in Blenheim Palace. The author is much indebted to Lord Wolseley's valuable " Life of the Duke of Marlborough to the Accession of Queen Anne," for some letters written before his marriage by Colonel Churchill to Sarah Jennings. The Stuart, the Hanoverian, the Wentworth, Lock- hart, Marchmont, and Kimbolton papers ; the Spencer House Journals ; the numerous memoirs, diaries, histories, biographies, correspondence, news sheets, pamphlets, and ballad literature of the period, have contributed their choicest, most intimate passages, to present a likeness of the first Duchess of Marlborough, and to paint a vivid panorama of the stirring times in which she lived. CONTENTS OF VOL. I CHAPTER I PAGE A Memorable May Day — Birth of Sarah Jennings — The King enters London — Secret Marriage of James Duke of York — Views of the Royal Family — The Duchess of York — Frances Jennings her Maid of Honour — The Perilous Career of a Court Beauty — Sarah Jennings a Playmate of the Princess Aime — Death of the Duchess of York — John Churchill's Long Descent — The Duke and His Page — The Rewards of Winston Churchill — A Nimble Ensign — ^The Duke of York's Second Marriage — The Child Bride lands in England — The Duke of Monmouth — ^John Churchill falls in love with Sarah Jennings — A Wilful Beauty — The unsmooth Course of True Love — Churchill's ardent Love Letters — Sarah is unkind — Between Love and Money — Sarah's Indignation — Her Lover pleads — He despairs of Her Love — Sarah gives Plain Hints— Such Barbarous Usage — Churchill's Indignant Letter — Peace and Private Marriage . . I CHAPTER II The Vicissitudes of Love and Disappointment of Marriage — Dick Talbot seeks his Fortune in France — An Elegant Adventurer — Lovers' Quarrel — Believing Her lost — The Prince of Orange — His Ambitious Views — The Princess Mary and the Dutch Monster — A Cold Bride groom — The supposed Discovery ofan Atrocious Plot — The Vanished Duke — The Love Letters of a Married Man — Dearest Soul of My Life — Illness of the King and Return of the Duke — Colonel Churchill the Confidant of James — A Visit to The Hague — Sent into Scotland — Sarah Churchill's First Child — Husband and Lover — The Duke of York returns to England — The Princess Anne marries Prince George of Denmark — A Royal Nonentity — The Prince of Orange is displeased — Appearance and Character of Anne . . . .31 CHAPTER III Sarah Churchill made Lady of the Bedchamber to the Princess Anne — Colonel Churchill's Advancement — His Letter to His Wife — Lady Churchill's Account of her Favour with the Princess — Life at the Cockpit and Gossip of the Day — Letter from the Princess Anne — The King's Troubles — The Duke of Monmouth's Ambition — A Monmouth and no York — Progress through the Provinces — Arrest — Conspiracy against the Lives of His Father and Uncle — Harboured X Contents ot Dot i PAGE by the Prince of Orange— James Protests — Illness and Death of Charies IL— The New King— 111 Omen at His Coronation— His Industry and Economy — Openly Professes Catholicism — Appoint-" ment of Catholic Peers— Monmouth honoured at the Orange Court — The French Ambassador's Account — Plans of the Prince of Orange — Monmouth's Insurrection, Condemnation, and Death — The Charms that Failed— Life at St. Albans— Birth of Lord Churchill's Children — Awaiting the Storm 53 CHAPTER IV Brief Glance at a Historical Drama — The Endeavours of the King — Schemes of the Prince of Orange — Birth of the Prince of Wales — Rumours and Calumnies — Conduct of the Princess Anne — Her Letters to the Princess of Orange — The Invasion of England — The King writes to His Eldest Daughter — Lord Clarendon remonstrates with Anne — James is betrayed and deserted — The Cruellest Blow — Anne's Flight from London — What Lord Chesterfield saw and said — The Queen quits England— The King's Fears — Last Night in England — A Divided Parliament — William's Anger and Disappoint ment — Lord Danby writes to Mary — Her Answer and Gratitude — Anne waives Her Claims — Lady Churchill explains — So very Simple a Creature — The New King and Queen — Rewards of Lord Churchill 8i CHAPTER V Queen Mary as a Child — Her Husband's Intrigue with Elizabeth Villiers — He neglects His Wife — No Place of Worship provided for Her — The Prince of Orange kicks the Communion Table — Depressing Life at Holland — Visit of the Duchess of York and the Princess Anne — The Princess of Orange and Lady Marlborough — Mary's Chaplain is horribly unsatisfied — The Purloined Letter — William reads Unpleasant Things of Himself — An Insolent Book — The French Ambassador's Picture of the Orange Court — William's Brutalities — Mary's Conduct on reaching Whitehall — Opinions of Eye Witnesses — Extracts from Her Private Journals — Disagreements of the Royal Sisters — Anne's Mortifications — The Question of Settlements — William's Hatred of Anne — The Duke of Gloucester is born — Lady Marlborough will not be persuaded — William's Treatment of Lord Marlborough — His Dissatisfaction with the King — The Princess's Gift — Their Majesties are wrathful . .123 CHAPTER VI The Primate refuses to bless the Queen — Mary punishes Him — Dressing for the Coronation — Startling News of King James's Landing in Ireland — Hostile Spirit of the Church and the Army — Admiral Lord Torrington's Instractions — Defeat of the English Fleet off Beachy Head — William goes to Ireland — His Affront to Prince George of Denmark — Lord Marlborough restores Tranquillity to Cork and Kinsale — The Queen's Letters to Her Husband — Reference to Her Father — Dr. Tillotson's Doubts of Hell — His Scepticism rewarded Prince George desires to serve at Sea — Their Majesties' Contempt for Him — Lady Marlborough answers a. veiy Great Lord — Un popularity of the King and Queen— Comments on William's Person Contents of IDoI. i xi PAGE and Habits — Promotion of the Dutch Favourites — Action of Parliament — The Queen consults a Fashionable Fortune-teller — Her Majesty's Many Troubles — Her Reference to the King's Mistress — Lord Marlborough corresponds with King James — Anne asks for the Garter for Lord Marlborough — Her Penitent Letter to Her Father 155 CHAPTER VII Plot to restore King James— The Chief Conspirators— Scene in the Royal Drawing-room — Lord Marlborough is dismissed and forbidden the Court — The Princess of Denmark receives an Anonymous Letter — Lady Marlborough defies the Queen — Her Majesty's Indignation — Requests Anne to part with Lady Marlborough — The Princess's Reply — Lord Rochester refuses to deliver It — Lady Marlborough is forbidden the Cockpit — Anne resolves to leave It — The Duchess of Somerset lends Her Sion House — William's Interference — The Proud Duke of Somerset and the Dutch King — Thrice married and twice widowed before .Sixteen — The Duke's exacting Disposition — "My Pig shall see Him too " — The Princess waits on the Queen — What Mary thought of the Quarrel — Some Signs of Remorse . . .181 CHAPTER VIII The Queen has an Inward Fever— Anne is brought close to Death — Message to Mary Who visits the Invalid — Lady Marlborough's Removal insisted on — The Princess's Answer — Her Majesty feels Compunction —Courtiers forbidden to call on Anne — She is deprived of Her Guards — Lady Marlborough wishes to leave Her Service — Of which Anne will not hear — Lord Marlborough is sent to the Tower — Conspiracies against the King — A Battle lost and won — James thinks the Hand of Heaven is against Him — Letter to Him from Anne — She writes to Lady Marlborough — The Princess employs the Bishop of Worcester — The Queen will not yield — Anne takes Berkeley House — Her Majesty's Orders to the Mayor of Bath — A Thing to be laughed at — Anne is robbed by Highwaymen — Lampoons — Lord Marlborough is released — Living at Berkeley House — Birth and Death of His Children 201 CHAPTER IX Fresh Endeavours to remove the Marlboroughs from the Princess — She is a Queen and would be obeyed — Hostility continues between the Royal Sisters — The Queen takes ill — Dr. Tenison and His Sermon on Nell Gwyn— Her Majesty destroys Her Private Papers and Letters — Anne hears of Her Sister's Illness — Offers to wait on Her — Receives a Cold Reply — The King's Concern for His Wife — Is told of Her Danger — Mary directs Her Private Letter to the King may be given Him after Her Death — Her Mind wanders — Her Instructions to the Archbishop — Her Death — Dr. Tenison delivers His Message to William who promises Amendment — The Arch bishop's Sermon — The ' ' Babbling " Bishop reproves the King — Mary is mourned by Her Father — Anne makes Overtures to His Majesty — Reconcilement follows — Her Interview at Kensington Palace — The Action of Inferior Figures 225 xii Contents of IDol. i CHAPTER X PAGE William declines Lord Mariborough's Proffered Services— The Eari corresponds with King James— And warns Him of the Attack on Brest— The Princess congratulates the King— She is slighted by His Majesty— Prince George and His Weeds of Woe— The King's New Favourite — Honours showered upon Him — Lands taken from Lord Portland— The Marriage of Elizabeth ViUiers— Anne writes to Her Father— Project of Louis XIV.— The Queen's Jointure— The Little Duke of Gloucester— The King's Avarice— Settlement of the Duke's Household— Lord Marlborough is taken into Favour — Kisses the King's Hand — A Precocious Youth — His Birthday Illness and Death — Anne believes His Loss a Punishment— Her Promise to King James — Marriage of Lady Henrietta Churchill to Viscount Rialton — Lord Godolphin's Craze — The Princess's Kindness — Marriage of Lady Anne Churchill— Her Husband's Character— Lord Sunderland's Anxiety for the Match— Anne's Gift to the Bride. . 243 CHAPTER XI Grief of the Prince and Princess of Denmark for Their Son— Lord Manchester writes about King James— The Exile's Death — The Prince of Wales proclaimed King— William hears the News — His Intentions regarding Anne — The Commons vex King William — His Dutch Guards sent Home— His Majesty's Anger— He fears the Nation wUl be punished— Intends to vacate the Throne— Grants to His Favourites are revoked by Parliament — Foreigners driven from His Council — Is obliged to give up the Exiled Queen's Dowry — He rapidly declines — Accident at Hampton Court — Anne's Dutiful Message— Permission to see The King is refiised — His Majesty is supported by " Spirituous Liquors" — He clings to Life — Gives All He has to his Favourite— His Hard Death — News is brought to Anne — Who is proclaimed Queen — Crowds flock to St. James's Palace — Lord Clarendon's Visit — Lady Marlborough's Words . 269 CHAPTER XII Queen Anne's Popularity — Her First Speech — Gifts and Favours to Lord and Lady Marlborough — Her Coronation — Party Faction — Lady Marlborough's Account of Herself — Her Majesty's Affectionate Letter — Lord Marlborough goes to the War — "The Queen touches for the King's Evil — Bishop Bull explains why Cures are not Inevitable — Her Majesty's Physicians — Lord Marlborough is made a Duke — Lady Marlborough's Surprise — Pension from the Privy Purse — Parliament refuses to settle it on His Successors — The Queen's Generosity — The Duke's Correspondence with the Court of St. Germains — Astonishing Proposals of Marriage — Lady Betty Churchill becomes Countess of Bridgewater — The Duke's Son and Heir — Desires to enter the Army — Illness and Death — Grief at His Loss— Letters from the Duke — His Anxiety for His Wife's Health — Marriage of Lady Mary Churchill — The Duke of Montagu — Strange Story of the Mad Duchess — Prince George's Settlement — The Duke of Marlborough threatens to retire — The Queen writes to the Duchess 289 ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOL. I Sarah Jennings, Duchess of Marlborough From the original by Sir Peter Lely. Mary Beatrice, Consort of James II. John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough The Princess Anne ... Charles II. . . James II. . . Queen Mary The Earl of Albemarle William III The Marquis of Blandford Frontispiece page IS 23S6 69 112 163 249 28a 314 CHAPTER I A Memorable May Day — Birth of Sarah Jennings — The King enters London — Secret Marriage of James Duke of York — Views of the Royal Family — The Duchess of York — Frances Jennings her Maid of Honour — The Perilous Career of a Court Beauty — Sarah Jennings a Playmate of the Princess Anne — Death of the Duchess of York — John Churchill's Long Descent — The Duke and His Page — The Rewards of Winston Churchill — ^A Nimble Ensign — The Duke of York's Second Marriage^ — . The Child Bride lands in England — The Duke of Monmouth — John Churchill falls in love with Sarah Jennings — A Wilful Beauty — The unsmooth Course of True Love — Churchill's ardent Love Letters — -Sarah is unkind — Between Love and Money — Sarah's Indignation — Her Lover pleads — He despairs of Her Love — Sarah gives Plain Hints — Such Barbarous Usage — Churchill's Indignant Letter — Peace and Private Marriage, VOL. I. CHAPTER I ON the memorable 29th of May in the historic year of 1660, Sarah Jennings, who was destined to become the first Duchess of Marlborough, and to leave her record in the chronicle of courts, was born. One of five children, her parents were of ancient lineage ; her mother being a daughter of Sir Gifford Thornhurst, of Agnes Court, Old Romney, in Kent ; whilst her father Richard Jennings was son of Sir John Jennings, who in the pleasant days of his youth had received the Order of the Bath in company with the Prince of Wales, afterwards Charles I. and unfortunate. Sir John Jennings was remarkable as being the father of two-and-twenty children, to settle whom in life his income of four thousand a year was sadly strained. His son Richard contrived by inheritance and marriage to gain properties in Somerset and Kent, and lived in fair repute and easy circumstances at St. Albans, where Sarah first saw light. His joy on her birthday was excessive, for she made her entrance into life on the same date as Charles II. made his into London ; His Majesty having ridden on that glorious May day 3 4 Hbe diueen's ComtaDe from Canterbury between hedges heavy with hawthorn, and green pastures for sight of which he had often sickened, he being surrounded and followed by a gracious and gallant cavalcade of those who, hearing of his return from exile, had hurried to greet him with a loyalty that swelled to worship. And now that the evil effects of civil war had ended, that the country was no longer rent by factions, or families divided against themselves ; that the grim weight of puritanical rigour was lifted from the land, a time of universal rejoicing and reaction set in, and never in the history of the kingdom had so brilliant a Court been seen. Though the Merry Monarch was its principal figure, around which flippant gaiety or vicious intrigues revolved, his brother James, Duke of York, whose history is more important to these pages, was scarcely second to him in consequence and interest. Different in type, they agreed in brotherly affection. Whilst Charles was indolent, unceremonious, loving ease above all things, indifferent to the performance of his promises, often forgetful of his friends though unwilling to take revenge on his enemies, James was practical, economical and business-like as was shown by his masterly management of the revenues of the country and by his skilful command of the Navy, which won many victories under his sway ; he having at the same time a jealous regard for the royal prerogative and a great regard for his word. He could also hate his enemies as heartily as he could love his friends. Hnne "Ibsbe S As at this time the dispute of dogmas did not trouble him and he was free from that bigotry that afterwards darkened his days, he followed his pleasures with a zest almost as keen as that of the King. Six months before returning to England with Charles, the Duke of York had secretly married Anne Hyde, a Maid of Honour to his sister the Princess of Orange and a daughter of Edward Hyde, originally a lawyer who had risen to become Privy Councillor and Chancellor of the Exchequer to Charles I. This worthy man had shared the exile of Charles II., whose friend and adviser he became, and for whose return he had continually and successfully schemed. At the Restoration he was created Earl of Clarendon, and appointed Lord Chancellor, when he sent for his family from abroad. With them came Anne, who soon assured her husband she was about to become a mother. No sooner was this made known to him, than James went to the King, confessed his secret marriage and asked permission to make it publicly known. The Sovereign was both astonished and vexed that the heir to the Crown should have made such an alliance ; but though he and his brother well knew this union could readily be annulled, James declared that if Anne were not acknowledged as his wife, he would quit the kingdom ; whilst Charles resolved that no disgrace he could hinder should befall the daughter of a man to whom he owed so much. The two remaining members of the royal family took a widely different view of the marriage ; for on 6 Zbc CJueen's Comrabe hearing of it the Queen-Mother, then in France, wrote to James expressing her indignation and surprise " that he should have such low thoughts as to marry such a woman " ; whilst his sister, the Princess of Orange, contrived a plot to prevent him from acknowledging his wife. But this failing, Ann Hyde was remarried to the Duke of York in her father's house on October 22nd, 1660. She is said to have been more graceful than beautiful, more dignified than amiable. Though her husband was by no means faithful to her, she retained her influence over his mind and he invariably treated her with respect. Had she lived she would have been Queen of England, a dignity reserved for her two daughters, Mary, wife of William of Orange, and Anne, her successor. The Duchess of York had inherited from her father a great share of that knowledge of mankind which gained for him the title of " chancellor of human nature " ; whilst from her mother she had derived that comeliness of person which had won her husband's heart. In her new and trying position she showed great prudence, " her carriage acquired dignity and from the first she learned to present her hand for courtiers to kiss with as much majesty as if she had been used to it all her life." Having satisfied his conscience by the acknowledg ment of this marriage, the Duke began to make advances to one of his wife's Maids of Honourj Frances Jennings, the sister, and senior by seven years, of the future Duchess of Marlborough. The %H JSelle Jennings 7 appointment of Frances, and later of Sarah, to positions at Court was made in acknowledgment of the devotion shown by their family to the Stuart cause. In a Court remarkable for the beauty of its women, Frances was soon given the title of La Belle Jennings ; for her complexion was dazzlingly fair, her expression vivacious, her bright hair as a crown of gold, and her mouth the most winsome in the world. Besides she had a reputation for wit, a high spirit, and her power of repartee was unfailing. On coming to Court she had been surrounded by a crowd of admirers, gay and godless courtiers who worshipped loveliness, delighted in gallantry, and excelled in turning a compliment, penning an ode or strumming a guitar. But though loving the danger of exciting their ardour, she had sufficient virtue and pride to check all amorous advances ; and when the Duke of York began to ogle her, she ever found some object of interest elsewhere for her eyes. And if she were blind to his glances, she was deaf to his words when he told her of his feelings and hinted at settlements. Though she would not listen to him she could not refuse to receive the notes containing the tenderest expressions and most extravagant promises which every day he slipped into her pockets or her muif ; but no sooner was his back turned than she pulled her handkerchief from the one and shook the other when billets fell about the floor like hailstones for the Duchess to see and for those who liked to pick up. 8 xrbe (Siueen's Comrabe Virtue so unusual in one so attractive became the talk of the Court ; when the King in his cynicism, beheving his brother had failed because his attacks were ill concerted, resolved to try his own powers of persuasion and win her for himself Delighted by her wit and charmed by her beauty, he soon declared himself her ardent lover, when Frances begged him to spare her, and Charles agreed to trouble her no more. As for the Duke of York he soon afterwards trans ferred his attentions to Arabella Churchill, sister of the first Duke of Marlborough, who bore James three children, the eldest of whom, the Duke of Berwick, a gallant soldier followed his father into exile. In the midst of the gaieties and extravagances of the Court ; the sailing in canopied barges to the sound of flutes and fiddles ; the riding in gilt coaches with glass windows in Hyde Park ; the brilliant cavalcades that journeyed to Hampton Court ; the revelry, gambling, dancing and intrigues that occupied the king and those surrounding him in an eternal pursuit of pleasure ; the Duchess of York lived in quiet dignity and bore her husband eight children ; two of whom, Mary and Anne, survived. As the latter grew up, a companion was found to amuse and play with her in Sarah Jennings then about twelve years old, who occasionally visited her sister at Court. The Princess Anne, four years her junior, was a backward child with little will of her own, an affection of whose sight prevented her from reading anr interfered with her education. From the first she felt attracted to one JU Dealtb of tbe Bucbess 9 whose firm mind and decisive manner contrasted with her own, and there and then began that singular friend ship which was to guide her most important actions and dominate her life. It is impossible that this should have been the case had the Duchess of York lived. But whilst the Court still followed its pleasures, death stole into the palace. It had been noticed that the Duchess, whose appetite was enormous, had become very corpulent, but it was not until she began to complain of ill health that this was looked on with suspicion. Doctors were then summoned who on examination declared she was suffering from a complication of diseases for which there was no cure. For months previously a rumour had gained ground that she had joined the Catholic Church ; and it was noticed that although she attended divine service, she never received the sacrament ; on which Bishop Morley, who had been her confessor since her twelfth year, spoke to her of the inference drawn from this neglect, when she excused herself on the plea of ill health and business. At last the King, knowing the fear that existed amongst the great bulk of the people against Catholicism at a time when in neighbouring countries the lurid fires of the Inquisition still burned their human victims, and how prejudicial it would be to his family that any of its members should leave the Established Church, asked his brother to n bonstrate with the Duchess. On this James told him sh^-iiad already joined the Catholic 10 trbe Ciueen's Comrabe Church, hearing which Charles ordered that it should be kept secret. In this he was obeyed until the Duchess of York at her death, which took place on March 22nd, 1 67 1, confessed to Bishop Blandford that she was no longer one of his flock. It was generally suspected that her husband had also changed his religion and in doing so had influenced her, though she left a paper stating that no man or woman had said anything or used the least persuasion to make her join a faith of which she had been one ofthe greatest enemies. A fear and dislike of James, the heir to the throne, from this time spread through the people, and eventually not only influenced his fate, but through him the destinies of Sarah Jennings and John Churchill whom she married. The latter who became one of the greatest generals England has ever had, began life at Court as page to the Duke of York. In becoming a brave soldier he had shown hereditary traits, for his ancestor Roger de Courcelle, Baron of Poitou, had fought under William the Conqueror, and settled first in Somerset and after wards in Devonshire, his surname becoming Anglicised to Churchill. Later Sir Bartholomew Churchill was killed while defending Bristol Castle in the reign of King Stephen, whilst another descendant, William Churchill, distinguished himself in fighting for Ed ward IV. John Churchill's father — Winston Churchill — whilst yet an undergraduate at Oxford, joined the forces of Charles I., and as a captain of horse fought bravely for Mfnston Cburcbili II his King. He was still young when he married a daughter of Sir John Drake of Ash in Devonshire, and as his own property was confiscated by Cromwell, and a fine of four thousand pounds levied on him as a punishment for having joined the Royalists, he was obliged to take refiage with his father-in-law. When King Charles returned, part of Winston Churchill's property was restored to him ; he was elected member for the borough of Weymouth and sat in the first parliament of the Restoration ; became one of the earliest members of the Royal Society ; was appointed a Commissioner of the Court of Claims in Ireland ; knighted ; and made Junior Clerk Comptroller of the King's Household. His loyalty to the Stuarts was further rewarded when his son John, who was in his tenth year at the time of the Restoration, was made page to the Duke of York ; and his daughter Arabella, a Maid of Honour to the Duchess. Young Churchill, who proved himself a remarkably bright and intelligent lad, had for a short time been educated in Dublin, when he accompanied his father there, and afterwards at St. Paul's. From the moment he entered the Duke of York's service he gained his royal master's favour ; and whilst attending him at a review of the Foot Guards in Hyde Park, had shown so much enthusiasm as he watched the troops march past to the sound of fifes and the roll of drums, that James asked what profession he would wish to follow, when with that acuteness that always marked him, he seized i2 tbe dlueen^s Comrabe ' his opportunity, fell on his knees, declared that a soldier he would be, and boldly asked for " a pair of colours in one of those fine regiments." Well pleased by his choice and amused by his ambition, the Duke promised he should have what he wished for, and a little later John Churchill at the age of sixteen was appointed an ensign in the Guards. That he well became his uniform was admitted by all. His tall, well-proportioned figure was as remarkable for its grace as his handsome face was for its winning expression ; whilst his manners showed a natural tact and courtesy that made him many friends in his youth, and helped him to win his high position in later life. That he should gain many admirers in a Court where women were so prodigal in their favours, was what might be expected. She whose love for him is chronicled by the gossips of that day was none other than Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine, for many years mistress to the King and mother of six of his children ; three of whom became the Dukes of Southampton, Grafton and Northumberland . Her violent temper, coarse abuse and open intrigues, had long plagued Charles, who yet remained her slave, to the wonder of the world and the amusement of the Court. But now when the fresher charms of those impudent comedians Moll Davis and Nell Gwynn had begun to attract His Majesty, the Countess was neglected ; seeing which, says the scandal-loving Bishop Burnet, " she abandoned herself to great Zbc Uest act 13 disorders ; one of which by the artifice of the Duke of Buckingham was discovered by the King in person, the party concerned leaping out of the window." The party concerned who showed such remarkable nimbleness was Ensign Churchill, who was soon after sent on active service to Tangier, then a dependency of the British Crown. Before leaving England he received a present from Lady Castlemaine of five thousand pounds ; with which the polite and cynical Lord Chesterfield says " he immediately bought an annuity of five hundred pounds la year of my grand father Halifax, which was the foundation of his subsequent fortune." The original agreement of this purchase, dated I764, is preserved amongst the Blenheim papers. Meantime dark and disturbing rumours spread through the kingdom that not only had James Duke of York joined the Catholic Church, but that the King's inclinations lay in the same direction, and that it was his intention to establish that faith in England. And from that time began that wrangling over rites and dogmas, in which the essential teachings from which they sprang were lost sight of ; and hatred, passion, and cruelty were indulged in as proof of loyalty to the Preacher of peace and goodwill. One of the first results of this fear which ran like fire through the land, was the introduction into Par liament of the Test Act in 1673, which made it necessary that all persons holding office or place of trust or profit, should take the oaths of supremacy 14 XCbe (Queen's Comrabe and allegiance in a public court, and receive the sacrament according to the Church of England in some parish church on the Lord's Day. When the Bill had passed both Houses and received a reluctant consent from the King, the Duke of York resigned his post as Lord High Admiral of England much to the triumph and satisfaction of his enemies. The greatest consternation followed at this plain proof of James's change of religion. Not only was Parliament divided into factions, but the whole nation surged with suspicion and distrust. The House of Commons prayed the King to appoint a day for fasting and humiliation that heaven might defend the country from the horrors of Popery, against which the bishops charged their clergy to preach, greatly to the alarm of the Court. Popular feeling was stirred to greater fury when it was announced that the heir to the throne was about to marry Mary Beatrice Eleanora d'Este, daughter of the Duke of Modena, and a Catholic princess. The object of the royal choice was then in her fifteenth year. Her figure was tall for her age and exceeding graceful ; her face with its dazzlingly fair complexion, dark hair, and brilliant eyes, was strikingly handsome, whilst her manner though invariably dignified was as vivacious as a happy child's. She had been educated in a convent, and her ignorance of the world was so great, that until her marriage was proposed she had never heard of England, much less of the Duke of York. MARY BEATRIX, CONSORT OF JAMES II. Page IS.] appeal to tbe pope 15 From the first she shrank from the proposed union with this man of forty, as if intuitively warned of the strange unhappy fate in which it would entangle her ; and declaring she wished to be a nun, begged her mother to refuse the offer. But the Duchess of Modena, who was Regent since her husband's death and during her son's minority, was anxious for an alliance which promised so much greatness ; and as she could not gain her daughter's consent to the marriage, appealed to the Pope asking his interference. It was only when he wrote that obedience to her mother's command " would most conduce to the service of God and the public good " that she agreed to become Duchess of York. The eccentric Earl of Peterborough whom Charles had sent to Modena as ambassador, then wedded her by proxy on behalf of James, and together with her mother set out with her for England. Meanwhile the House of Commons was disturbed by angry debates on the Duke's marriage ; for, it was argued, if this union resulted in the birth of a son, he would no doubt be reared in the religion of his parents, and England would in time be ruled by a Catholic King. The Commons therefore presented an address to His Majesty begging that he would abandon this proposed marriage and stop the Princess of Modena, who had by this time reached Paris. In censed at being asked to involve his honour by such an action, Charles immediately prorogued ParUament and so prevented further unwelcome importunities. 1 6 zbc (Siueen's Comrabe On November 21st, 1673, the child-princess and her mother landed at Dover, where the Duke of York awaited them attended by a scanty retinue, for the unpopularity of the marriage prevented many of the nobility from accompanying him. Dr. Crew, Bishop of Oxford, was amongst those who received the bride and who shortly after her landing declared the ceremony of marriage by proxy, already performed, to be lawful. On arriving at the palace of Whitehall she was coldly received, and from the first the article of her agreement guaranteeing her the use of a chapel was broken. But gradually her gracious manner, her cheerfulness, her simplicity, not only overcame the prejudices of the courtiers, but of the public. " The uneasiness conceived on account of her religion," says Macpherson in his History of Great 'Britain, " was soon forgot, and she was universally esteemed and even by many beloved. Her beauty rendered her the favourite of the populace, when the bigotry of her husband was most feared." In forming his new household the Duke of York, who took a great interest in his former page John Churchill, appointed him his Master of the Robes. Before receiving this post the handsome young soldier had distinguished himself in the field ; for when Charles dispatched six thousand troops under the command of the Duke of Monmouth to aid Louis XIV. to subdue the Dutch, Churchill went with them, and for the bravery and foresight he showed /lbs Ibanbsome Engllsbman 17 was soon appointed captain of Grenadiers in Mon mouth's regiment. At the siege of Nimeguen he gained the notice of Marshal Turenne, one of the greatest generals of that time, and who with the Prince de Conde commanded the French troops. Turenne's belief in ChurchiU's courage was so great that when one of his own officers had abandoned a station he had been ordered to defend to the last extremity, the Marshal said " I will bet a supper and a dozen of claret that my handsome Englishman will recover the post with half the number of men that the officer commanded who has lost it," a wager that he won. In 1674 Captain Churchill was made colonel of an English regiment, and during the siege of Maestricht in the following year he saved the life of the young and gallant Duke of Monmouth at the risk of his own. The Duke of Monmouth who figures largely in the history of the times, was son of Charles I. by Lucy Walters, one of the numerous women who had been his mistress in exile. Born on April 9th, 1649, the Duke was in his early years educated in Paris under the superintendence of the King's mother, and on the Restoration passed some years at Oxford. On his coming to court he was received by his father with the greatest joy and affection, and honours which ended in a dukedom fell thick upon him. Grammont says " The astonishing beauty of his outward form caused universal admiration ; those who before were looked upon as handsome, were now entirely forgotten at VOL. I. 2 1 8 Zbc dlueen's Comrabe Court ; and all the gay and beautiful of the fair sex were at his devotion. He was particularly beloved by the King ; but the universal terror of husbands and lovers. This however did not long continue ; for nature not having endowed him with qualifications to secure the possession of the heart, the fair sex soon perceived the defect." But though the Duke had little mental ability and was wanting in all the accomplishments prized at Court, he delighted and excelled in all kinds of exercise, gloried in warfare, had magnificent courage and a daring ambition that brought him to the block. Stand ing now in the full flood of royal favour, his words in introducing Colonel Churchill to His Majesty was the best commendation a courtier could receive. " Sire," said Monmouth, " to the bravery of this gallant officer I owe my life." His new office as Master of the Robes required Colonel Churchill's constant attendance at Court, where Sarah Jennings who had been appointed Maid of Honour to the Duchess was present. At a brilliant ball given by the King in honour of the young bride, amongst a dazzling crowd of women in patches and powder, with gleaming shoulders and glittering jewels, and of men whose multi-coloured coats blazed with orders as they moved to and fro in the slow graceful measures of the dance — he was first attracted by the Maid of Honour ten years his junior, who from that time forward exercised an extraordinary fascination for him that increased with years, and to whom to the /Ibrs. Jennings anb Iber Daugbter jFigbt 19 last he gave a devotion such as it is the fortune of few women to receive. It is doubtful if his tall graceful figure, well cut handsome face, and irresistible manner would have been sufficient to secure the responses of one who seems to have been incapable of strong affection ; but the record of his bravery, his possession of the royal favour, and the possibilities of his future, must have influenced Sarah Jennings who was born with a love of power and strong ambition. Whilst scarcely less handsome than her sister, and having the same dazzHngly fair complexion and bright hair, her expression was more intelligent, her manners more haughty, and her conversation less flippant. Though — as was common to all women of her class at this time — she had little education and few accom plishments, she compensated for their loss by the quickness of her mind, her natural shrewdness, force of character, and power of repartee made pungent by sarcasm. Even at this time she showed signs of that violent temper which later became the terror of her sovereign mistress ; for when Mrs. Jennings wished to remove her from the Court whose temptations had proved too strong for some other of the Maids of Honour, a quarrel arose between them which was not Hmited to words, as we learn from a letter written in 1676 by Lady Chaworth who says — " Mrs. Jennings and her daughter, Maid of Honour to the Dutchesse, have had so great a falling out that they fought : the young one 20 Zhc Ciueen's Comrabe complained to the Dutchesse that if her mother was not put out of St. James's, where she had lodgings to sanctuary her from debt, she would run away : so Sir Alleyn Apsley was sent to bid the mother remove, who answered with all her heart : she would never dispute the Duke and Dutchesse's commands, but with the Grace of God she would take her daughter away with her ... so rather than part with her, the mother must stay and all breaches are made up again." Peace, however, lasted but for a brief while, for a month later the same correspondent writes : " Mrs. Sarah Jennings has got the better of her mother, who is commanded to leave the Court and her daughter in itt, notwith standing the mother's petition that she might have her girle with her, the girle saying she is a mad woman." But Colonel Churchill was not deterred from wooing this wilful beauty by the reports of her temper or his own experience of it ; and though from the first he gave proofs of his constancy and ardour, at times she treated him with coldness and caprice ; and on one occasion in the royal drawing-room when he would have given her a letter fvdl of the love he had no opportunity of speaking for himself, she regarded him haughtily and barbarously refused it. To this sore treatment his only reply was that •' if reason had bade her do it, love would never have permitted it. But," he adds, " I will complain no more of it, but hope time and the truth of my love will make you love me better." The love letters he wrote to her during their court ship, which she preserved through life, and read and Colonel Cburcbill's Xove Xetters 21 cried over when the brilliancy of her days had faded into the greyness of age, and their writer had passed into eternity, are preserved amongst the Blenheim papers. For though, as she wrote, she wished to burn them, yet she could never bring herself to do so. In one of these Colonel Churchill tells her that if her happiness depended upon the esteem and love he had for her, then she ought to be the happiest thing breathing ; for he had never loved anybody as he loved her. Indeed he loved her so well that he preferred her happiness to his own ; and therefore if she thought their meeting would disquiet her, he promised not to press her to it ; but he begs that she wiU let him see she prefers him to the rest of mankind. In return for this he is ready to swear " that I will never love anything but your dear self, which has made so sure a conquest of me that, had I the will, I had not the power ever to break my chains. Pray let me hear from you," he concludes, " and know if I shall be so happy as to see you to-night." In another letter he complains of being " extreme ill with the headache " ; an ailment from which he suffered all his life, and of which constant mention is made in his despatches from abroad. From this note it appears that the Maid of Honour was also ill at this time, probably from vapours, and he asks her to send him word how she does, for if she were not in pain, nothing would trouble him. If it were not, he assures her, for the joy he takes in the thought that she loves him, he would not care how soon he died ; " for by all that is 22 ube CJueen's Comrabe good I love you so well that I wish from my soul that that minute that you leave loving me, that I may die, for life after that would be to me one perpetual torment. If the Duchess sees company I hope you will be there ; but if she does not, I beg you will then let me see you in your chamber, if it be but for one hour. If you are not in the drawing-room, you must then send me word at what hour I shall come." For all his show of affection, the impetuous Sarah treated him lightly and ungraciously ; for she not only ignored his desire for a reply, but charged him with want of kindness, not recognising that it was she who lacked that quality. " You complain of my unkind ness, but would not be kind yourself in answering my letter, although I begged you to do so," he writes ; and then makes a request. " The Duchess goes to a new play to day, and afterwards to the Duchess of Monmouth's there to dance. I desire that you will not go thither, but make an excuse and give me leave to come to you. Pray let me know what you do intend, and if you go to the play, for if you do, then I will do what I can to go, if the Duke does not. Your not writing to me made me very uneasy, for I was afraid it was want of kindness in you, which I am sure I will never deserve by any action of mine." To this the petulant Mistress Jennings made response, saying she could see him at four o'clock, but, says she, saucily enough, " That would hinder you from seeing the play, which I fear would be a great affliction to you, and increase the pain in your head, which would JOHN CHURCHILL, DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. Page 23.] /Ibistress Catberine Sebles 23 be out of anybody's power to ease until the next new play. Therefore pray consider, and without any com pliment to me, send me word if you can come to me without any prejudice to your health." Colonel Churchill's romance had run its unsmooth course so far, when it was fated to meet with further trouble ; for Sir Winston Churchill, desiring that his eldest surviving son, now in his twenty-seventh year, should marry a wealthy wife who would restore the family fortunes, set himself to find a suitable partner for him. Without going far afield, he fixed on Mistress Catherine Sedley, daughter of his old friend and kinsman Sir Charles Sedley. The lady was five- and-twenty, plain to ugliness, extremely thin, but well endowed, a compensation that must have had its in fluence with so prudent and money-loving a man as her prospective husband. On the other hand, Sarah Jennings was not only the handsomest of the Maids of Honour, but was bright, witty, and fascinating, though her dowry was small, for at this time there was no prospect of gaining the patrimony that came to her later, on the death of her brothers. For awhile it seemed as if Colonel Churchill hesitated in his choice, and felt inclined to obey his parent's wishes and his own desires for gain ; for the question of settlements was broached, and gossip had it that he was about to travel, presumably for the benefit of his health, but in reality to break with Sarah Jennings. That there would be no need for such a ruse must have been plain to him ; for no sooner had the 24 Itbe (Queen's Comrabe high-spirited Maid of Honour heard rumours that he was, to use her own language, about " to marry a shocking creature for money " than she flew into a towering rage, bade him " renounce an attachment which militated against his worldly prospects," declared that to avoid him she would go to France with her sister, and added, " As for seeing you, I am resolved I never will in private nor in public if I could help it ; and as for the last I fear it will be some time before I can order so as to be out of your way of seeing me ; but surely you must confess that you have been the falsest creature upon earth to me. I must own that I believe I shall suffer a great deal of trouble, but I will bear it, and give God thanks, though too late I see my error." This letter seems to have banished all inclination he had to forsake for interest one whom he truly loved, and whom he knew was surrounded by admirers, who was ogled by the Duke of York, and who had been asked in marriage by the Earl of Lindsay, afterwards Marquis of Ancaster. But to gain her affections was now a more difficult task than before, when she scorned him, and to show a brave heart, danced at the Court balls when she felt more inclined to cry. His first effort towards reconciliation was to break off all negotiations for his marriage with Catherine Sedley, who soon after consoled herself by becoming a mistress of the Duke of York, who made her Countess of Dorchester ; Churchill's second effort being an appeal to Sarah, in which he owned that he was so much a Sarab Jennings Dissatisfieb 25 slave to her charms, that he loved her better than his life. His words made sufficient impression on her to grant him a reply, though it was far from what he desired ; for in answering it he says, " You say I pretend a passion to you when I have other things in my head. I cannot imagine what you mean by it, for I vow to God you do so entirely possess my thoughts that I think of nothing else in this world but your dear self. I do not, by all that is good, say this that I think it will move you to pity me, for I do despair of your love ; but it is to let you see how unjust you are, and that I must ever love you as long as I have breath, do what you will. I do not expect in return that you should either write or speak to me, since you think it is what may do you a prejudice ; but I have a thing to beg which I hope you will not be so barbarous as to deny me. It is that you will give me leave to do what I cannot help, which is to adore you as long as I live, and in return I will study how I may deserve, although not have, your love. I am persuaded that I have said impertinent things enough to anger you, for which I do with all my heart beg your pardon, and do assure you that from hence forward I will approach and think of you with the same devotion as to my God." Though man could say no more to prove his love, Sarah Jennings professed to be dissatisfied with it, and considered all he had said was written merely to amuse and make her think he had an affection for her when she was assured he had none. She added that he must 26 ube (Siueen's Comrabe think it strange she should write to him, after she had protested that she would never write or speak to him again; but, continues this exacting damsel, "As you know how much kindness I had for you, you can't wonder or blame me if I try once more, to hear what you can say for your justification. But this I must warn you of, that you don't hold disputes, as you have done always, and to keep me from answering of you, and yourself from saying what I expect from you, for if you go on in that manner I will leave you that moment and never hear you speak more whilst I have life. Therefore pray consider if with honour to me and satisfaction to yourself, I can see you ; for if it be only to repeat those things which you said so often, I shall think you the worst of men, and the most ungrateful ; and 'tis to no purpose to imagine that I will be made ridiculous in the world when it is in your power to make me otherwise." In answer to this plain intimation of what she expected, her lover made no mention of marriage ; though his next letter was full of expressions of affection such as "I do love and adore you with all my heart and soul, so much that by all that is good, I do and ever will be better pleased with your happiness than my own ; but on my soul, if we might both be happy, what inexpressible joy that would be." But Sarah, who had little sentiment and much practical sense, replied to his long and effusive letter by briefly saying, " If it were sure that you have that passion for me which you say you have, you would find out some way to make XTbe Course of Urue Xove 27 yourself happy — it is in "your power. Therefore press me no more to see you, since it is what I cannot in honour approve of ; and if I have done too much, be so good as to consider who was the cause of it." Accordingly when next he appeared at the Duchess's drawing-room, Sarah immediately left it ; on which he wrote to complain of this usage and begged to know, if she did not think it impertinent, why she had so behaved. In reply she penned a brief note giving him permission to see her, " not that I can be persuaded you can ever justify yourself, but I do it that I may be freed from the trouble of ever hearing from you more." In his next he deplores her unkind and indifferent letter, but what must have pleased her more he refers to some proposals he is making to the Duchess of York about their marriage, which owing to his parent's opposition, he desired to keep secret. Yet Sarah continued cold to him, and in a letter addressed to her maid, Mrs. Elizabeth Mowdie, he complains. " Your mistress's usage to me is so barbarous that sure she must be the worst woman in the world, or else she would not be thus ill natured. I have sent a letter which I desire you will give her. It is very reasonable for her to take it, because it will then be in her own power never to be troubled with me more, if she pleases. I do love her with all my soul, but will not trouble her, for if I cannot have her love I shall despise her pity. For the sake of what she has already done, let her read my letter and answer it, and not use me thus like a footman." 28 ube (Siueen's Comrabe Then came a response from Sarah, protesting that she had done nothing to deserve what he had written to her, and declaring she knew not what reply to make. As she found he had so ill an opinion of her, she was angry for having too good a one of him. " For if I had as little love as yourself," she said, " I have been told enough of you to make me hate you, and then I believe I should have been more happy than I am like to be now. However if you can be so well contented never to see me as I think you can by what you say, I will believe you, though I have not other people ; and after you are satisfied that I have not broke my word, you shall have it in your power to see me or not — and if you are contented without it I shall be extremely pleased." This reply gave him as little satisfaction as her other letters, and full of love and grief he answered, " To show you how unreasonable you are in accusing me, I dare swear that you yourself will own that your going from me in the Duchess's drawing-room did show as much contempt as was possible. I may grieve at it, but I will no more complain when you do it, for I suppose it is what pleases your humour. I cannot imagine what you meant by your saying I laughed at you at the Duke's side, for I was so far from that, that had it not been for shame I could have cried. And for being in haste to go to the Park, after you went I stood near a quarter of an hour, I believe, without knowing what I did. " Although at Whitehall you told me I should not Sarab is /Ibarrieb 29 come, yet I walked twice to the Duke's back stairs, but there was no Mrs. Mowdie ; and when I went to my Lord Dur ass's, I would not go the same way they did, but came again down the back stairs ; and when I went away, I did not go in my chair, but made it follow me, because I would see if there was any light in your chamber, but I saw none. Could you see my heart you would not be so cruel as to say I do not love you, for by all that is good I love you and only you. If I may have the happiness of seeing you to-night, pray let me know, and believe that I am never truly pleased but when I am with you." The kind-hearted Duchess of York, who was not much older than Sarah Jennings, took an interest in the lovers' affairs, and by way of smoothing them offered her Maid of Honour a dowry ; but this was at first rejected by Sarah in a fit of spleen, as bad temper was called. However, on her lover writing to her, " I am sure if you love me, you will not at this anger the Duchess," she accepted the royal gift, and their marriage was celebrated privately at St. James's Palace In the winter of 1677. CHAPTER II The Vicissitudes of Love and Disappointment of Marriage — Dick Talbot seeks his Fortune in France — An Elegant Adventurer — Lovers' Quarrels — Believing Her lost — The Prince of Orange — His Ambitious Views — The Princess Mary and the Dutch Monster — A Cold Bridegroom — The sup posed Discovery of an Atrocious Plot — The Vanished Duke — The Love Letters of a Married Man — Dearest Soul of My Life — Illness of the King and Return ot the Duke — Colonel Churchill the Confidant of James — A Visit to The Hague — . Sent into Scotland — Sarah Churchill's First Child —Husband and Lover — The Duke of York returns to England — The Princess Anne marries Prince George of Denmark — A Royal Nonentity — The Prince of Orange is displeased — Appearance and Character of Anne. 3' CHAPTER II MEANWHILE Sarah's elder sister, the beautiful Frances Jennings, had known the vicissitudes of love and the disappointment of marriage — with the wrong man. Soon after she had slighted the Duke and dismissed the King, Richard Talbot returned to the Court from Ireland where he had been sent on business. Dick Talbot, as he was generally called, was a younger son of an old Irish family who early in life had left his native isle to seek his fortune in France, and attached himself to the Court of the exiled monarch. Though above middle height and robust, he was singularly graceful. Nature had been kind to him in many ways, for his face was not only handsome but he had a noble air, a winning manner, his speech was ever gracious, and he gave proof of his courage by oflFering to assassinate Cromwell, which he might have done had not death deprived him of the satisfaction. His elegance, love of adventure, indifference to money and eagerness for a fight, soon won him the favour and confidence of the Duke of York who took him into his service and on returning to England made him a Gentleman of the VOL. I. 33 3 34 Zbc diueen's Comrabe Bedchamber. The beauty of Frances Jennings, her vivacity, and the proofs she had given of her discretion, attracted Dick Talbot to whose addresses she was pleased to turn a favourable ear. He had greatly interested himself in his countrymen, and whilst secur ing to many of them the properties confiscated by Cromwell, was not quite heedless of his advantages in such transactions ; and though he played deep, he occasionally forgot to repay his losses when the excite ment of the game had passed. So that altogether he had now secured to himself about forty thousand a year, a circumstance which was believed to have its weight with La Belle Jennings. All went well between them until one day he ventured to disapprove of her intimacy with Miss Price, whose reputation was none of the best and who had been dismissed from the service of the Duchess of York. At this Frances Jennings, confident of her own integrity and excessively haughty, begged that he would attend to his own affairs, and that if he only came from Ireland to read lectures about her conduct, he might take the trouble to go back as soon as he pleased. Offended by this speech from one whom he considered he had a right to advise, he left her abruptly and resented her words, but when after the lapse of a little time he sought to make friends with her she was too proud to resume their former intimacy and they drifted apart. Ultimately she married George Hamilton grandson of the second Earl of Abercorn. When Catholics were dismissed from the army, Hamilton took "TLbc Xanguisbing 3Boi?nton" 35 them over to France and formed them into a company of gens-d' armes much to the gratification of Louis XIV. who appointed himself as their captain, and George Hamilton their captain-lieutenant. He afterwards made Hamilton a Count and the latter made his wife a widow. Believing she was lost to him, Dick Talbot " without knowing why or wherefore took to wife the languishing Boynton," as Grammont narrates. Miss Boynton was a fragile creature with large motionless eyes, and a good complexion, who lisped softly and fell into faints with surprising ease. The first time Talbot cast eyes on her she swooned away, when he who was tolerably vain thinking it the effect of her ardour for him, showed her great attention, more with desire of saving her from such weaknesses than of expressing affection for her. As may be imagined she married him, but her wedded life was short, and he was free again to woo the woman whose capriciousness he considered to have ruined his happiness. This time he was more fortunate In his proposals and they became man and wife. When James came to the throne he made Dick Talbot Earl of Tyrconnel, and placed him as lieutenant- general at the head of the Irish army ; and so pleased was the King with those abilities the earl showed in that post, that he advanced him to the rank of Duke of Tyrconnel when the former Maid of Honour became a duchess. Before John Churchill and Sarah Jennings became man and wife, another marriage was celebrated which 36 Ube CHueen's Comrabe was destined to have inconceivable effects on the nation ; the bridegroom being the Prince of Orange, nephew to Charles II., and the bride, the Princess Mary, eldest daughter of James, Duke of York, then in her fifteenth year. The Prince was a person calculated to inspire aversion in any woman fated to become his wife, for his face, with its ghastly complexion and severe expression, was deeply pitted from small-pox ; his eagle eye showed a stubborn temper and determined will ; whilst his stature was diminutive and his shoulders so round that they gave him an appearance of deformity. Nor were these defects compensated for by his manner which was silent and gloomy, clownish and morose ; the little conversation he was Inclined to indulge in being constantly interrupted by a distressing cough, the result of chronic asthma. With all these imperfections lying heavy upon him, he was unwisely selected as a husband for the Princess Mary by their uncle, Charles II. , from motives of policy. The nation was now more than ever disturbed by a dread of popery, carefully stimulated by means of inflammatory pamphlets and dark rumours by Lords Wharton, Buckingham, and Shaftesbury for political purposes. A new Test Act, introduced in 1678, prevented Catholics from holding civil or military offices, or sitting in Parliament, or coming within five miles of the Court ; and only by a majority of two was the Duke of York excluded from this latter XTbe Xittle Earl of Sbaftesburs 37 clause. This was but a step towards excluding him from succession to the Crown. As It failed, " the little Earl of Shaftesbury " who, as Bishop Burnet savs, " had no regard to truth or justice," and who through three reigns betrayed and intrigued, waited on the King to make him two proposals, either of which would prevent James from coming to the throne. One was that His Majesty should divorce the Queen, who had failed to get him an heir, and marry again ; the other was to declare that he had married Lucy Walters, and that the result of that union, the Duke of Monmouth, was his legitimate son and heir. But although Bishop Burnet — whose hatred of James was only equalled by his aspirations to higher sees — obligingly undertook to write a paper still extant in which he declared divorce " might be easily justified before God and man," the King, who was more honourable if less virtuous, was indignant at the suggestion that he should put away his wife ; whilst as to the second proposal he declared, that much as he loved the Duke of Monmouth, he had " rather see him hanged at Tyburn than own him as his legitimate son." As neither Charles nor his brother had male issue at this time, the Princess Mary was heir apparent to the Crown, and the King, believing It would pacify his people to see her married to a Protestant, selected William of Orange, who from having freed Holland from the power of France, was, though a follower of Calvin, popularly regarded as the protector of 38 tlbe (Jlueen's Comrabe Protestantism. This union had been suggested to the Prince three years previously and been coldly received by him when there had been a prospect of the Duchess of York giving birth to an heir, and at a time when, as he owned, he had endeavoured to persuade the King to acknowledge Monmouth as his legitimate son. But now when the Duchess of York's children had died soon after birth, and the project of excluding the Duke from the succession, was becoming general, William, as Macpherson relates, " formed a secret connection with the popular party in England by the means of one Frymans, a man of abandoned principles and a profligate life. His views which he had formed even at this early period upon the throne, are said to have been the source of his animosity against France, to please a people over whom he was resolved to reign." Though the Duke of York was unwilling that his daughter should marry a man who had already con spired against him, and to whom he had taken an instinctive dislike, he, as was his invariable custom, submitted to the King's wishes ; and when His Majesty announced the union to Parliament, James declared his consent to it, adding that he hoped he had given a sufficient proof of his testimony for the public good, and that it would no longer be said that he designed to alter the government In Church or State, for whatever his opinions on religion might be, all he desired was that men might not be molested merely for conscience' sake. Caliban 39 The Prince of Orange reached London on October 13th, 1677, and he was received with great rejoicing by the populace. He was lodged at Whitehall, and was entertained that evening at a great banquet where under the glow of hundreds of lights that reflected themselves in services of gold, surrounded by the most gallant men, the fairest women that ever graced a Court, and listening to the wit and badinage, the flattering speeches and piquant raillery that fell from their lips, he sat cold, watchful and unmoved. When the Princess Mary, at this time a bright and happy child, with placid and comely features, and a quick intelligent mind, was first told by her father of her proposed marriage, she wept all that afternoon and the following day, as her tutor Dr. Edward Lake tells us. And when the Lord Chief Justice and the Judges waited on her, she answered their congratula tions by an outburst of tears. Nor was she more reconciled by a better knowledge of William, who had already been nicknamed " the Dutch Monster," and " Caliban " by the Maids of Honour ; whilst " the Court began to whisper of his sullenness and clownishness, that he took no notice of the Princess at the playe and balle." On November 4th at nine o'clock at night the marriage was celebrated by the Bishop of London : whilst the narrow streets with their houses of oak-beamed fronts and high-pitched roofs, glowed with the red light of bonfires and torches, and were thronged by rejoicing crowds whose shouts were almost drowned 40 Xlbe Ciueen's Comrabe by the sound of bells ringing from a hundred church towers and steeples. On the 19th of the month, surrounded and accom panied by the Court, the bride and bridegroom set out in barges from Whitehall to Greenwich, where they were to take ship for Holland ; the poor Princess vainly striving to suppress her tears and clinging to her friends from whom she was so unwilling to depart ; in this way taking her sad leave of England, to which after an absence of twelve years, she was to return a changed woman. The marriage of Princess Mary failed to have the desired effect of propitiating those whose rabid hatred of Catholicity stirred their worst passions ; for towards the close of the year 1678, the nation was thrilled with horror at the so-called discovery of an atrocious plot by which the Catholics intended to assassinate His Majesty, place James on the throne, and establish their religion in England. This supposititious plot was declared to have been discovered by Titus Oates, who even in those days of lax living had been dismissed from his post of Chaplain in the Navy because of his gross immorality. An account of the reign of terror which followed is given in Royalty Restored ; and it will be sufficient to state here that although his infamous character was known, it was not until many innocent lives had been sacrificed that the plot was proved to be the invention of Oates, who ultimately was whipped at the hands of the common hangman, exposed on the pillory, and flung into prison where he remained until Ibapps Dags at flbintern 4t he was liberated by WiUiam and rewarded with a pension. The dread with which the public was seized on hearing of this Popish plot, was utilised by James's enemies, fresh efforts were made to exclude him from succeeding to the crown, and a bill was passed in the Commons for that purpose. But before it could reach the Lords, Parliament was prorogued by the King. Seeing it was best for the peace of the nation and his own security that James should leave the kingdom, Charles yielded to the advice of his councillors and ordered his brother to " withdraw beyond sea." In quitting England the Duke wished to have his family with him, but permission to take the Princess Anne was refused him, though it was granted some six months later. Accompanied by its other members, and by his suite, amongst whom were Colonel Churchill and his wife, he set out for Brussels in March 1679. Soon after their marriage Colonel Churchill and his wife went to live with his parents at Mintern in Dorsetshire. It was the young husband's desire at this time that she should leave the profligate Court and settle in a home of their own near London ; but he, who according to Sarah's statement never " from the very beginning of his life spent a shilling beyond what his income was," did not think it advisable to incur the expenses of housekeeping just yet. Those days at Mintern were probably the happiest of his life, though their contentment was chequered by his occasional absences when on duty at Court. 42 trbe (Slueen's Comrabe At such times he wrote her letters as full of ardent affection as those he sent when wooing her. In one of them he tells his wife that as she is always in his thoughts, he would be perpetually conversing with her by letter, and repeating what he had so often sworn, that she was dearer to him than life ; *' but I find," he adds reproachfully, " you are not of the same mind, for when you write you are afraid to tell me that you love me." In another of these letters which would have thrilled the heart of an ordinary woman, he says he is so ill that he can scarcely look upon the paper, " but you are so dear to me that I will never omit writing, for fear you should think it proceed from unkind ness, which I can never be guilty of to you. I will not complain, but it is now three weeks and above since you writ to me." • His gracious manner and handsome presence recom mended him to the royal brothers as a fit person for employment on important diplomatic missions abroad, and whilst on one of these he writes in April 1678, to tell his young wife he had sent her a letter from Antwerp, for he desired that she should hear from him by every post, and adds that he will be absent from England two or three days longer than he anticipated. " But because I would lose no time, I despatch all other things in the meantime, for I do with all my heart and soul long to be with you, you being dearer to me than my own life. On Sunday morning I shall leave this place for Breda, where the Prince and Princess of Cburcbili becltnes a Seat in iparliament 43 Orange are ; and from thence you shall be sure to hear from me again. Till then my soul's soul, farewell." But these protestations failed to satisfy one who in return expressed so little affection for him ; for in another of his letters he says " You are very unjust to me in making a doubt of my love, since there Is nothing in the world I desire so much as to be able to give you proofs of how well I love you ; for by all that is good and holy, you are dearer to me than my own life, for could I follow my own Inclinations, I would never be from you." This letter had the effect of drawing from her, one which was less cold than usual ; for he tells her how extremely pleased he was with " her kind expressions." He was then on the eve of departing from Holland, but assured her he would take every opportunity of writing to her " for I do if possible love you better than I ever did. I believe it will be about the beginning of October before I shall get back, which time will appear an age to me, since in all that time I shall not be made happy with the sight of you. Pray write constantly to me. ... So dearest soul of my life, farewell." He was back in England in the spring of 1679, when he was offered a seat in Parliament, but this he wisely declined, at a time when the kingdom was disturbed by religious and political factions that eventu ally led to a revolution. But though keeping in the service and preserving the confidence of the Duke of York, Colonel Churchill had little- sympathy with his religious convictions, and still less with the rigorous 44 Xlbe (Siueen's Comrabe measures " taken against the Catholic party ; for, as he assured a friend, " though I have an aversion to Popery, yet I am not less averse to persecution for conscience sake, and I deem it the highest act of injustice to set any one aside from his inheritance upon bare suppo sitions of intentional evils, when nothing that is actual appears to preclude him from the exercise of his just rights." The Duke of York having withdrawn beyond sea, settled with his family in Brussels, where he was joined in August 1679, by his daughter, usually called The Lady Anne, who now renewed her friendship with her former playfellow Sarah Churchill. James sorely fretted under his enforced exile, dreading lest his enemies by power or strategy might secure the suc cession to the Protestant Duke, as Monmouth was styled. All that James could do at present was to keep careful watch on the political movements of his opponents, and maintain a correspondence with the King, and for both of these purposes Colonel Churchill was constantly sent to England. It was whilst the Duke of York was disturbed by news of Monmouth's increasing popularity and the prejudice raging against Catholics, that word was secretly brought him of his brother's sudden and serious illness. Accordingly he set out for England in hot haste, racked by suspense, not knowing but that he might find the King dead and the usurper on the throne. He was accompanied by Lord Peter borough and Colonel Churchill, they riding post to Jllness of tbe fkirxQ 4S Calais, crossing to Dover, and then in disguise making for London which they reached dust-covered and worn from want of rest, and lodged the night at the residence of Sir Alleyn Apsley in St. James's Square, their host being a sturdy supporter of the Stuarts and a good friend of the Duke's ; their intention being to hurry next morning to Windsor, where the King lay ill. Tired as he was after his journey. Colonel ChurchiU sat down that night to write to his wife. Beginning with an apology for not having sent her word of himself sooner, he continues, " By this you will find that we are landed in England, so that now we shall not be long before we shall be at Windsor, from whence you shall be sure to hear from me by the first opportunity, for I hope I am not deceived in the belief I have that you love me, which thought pleases me more than all other things in this world, and I do assure you that whilst I live I will never give you any reason to do other than love me, for I had much rather lose my own life than to lose you or your love. Pray do not fail of writing every post to me." James left London so early next morning that he was at the King's bedside before His Majesty awoke. Charles greeted him affectionately, told him he had been cured of the tertian ague from which he suffered, by using Jesuit's bark, and later assured him that it would be imprudent for him to live in England. On this James represented how dangerous it might be for him to continue to reside abroad, as in case of His Majesty's death there was every reason to suppose 46 xrbe Ciueen's Comrabe his own enemies would proclaim Monmouth, King, when the country would be plunged in civU war. On this Charles consented to his brother living in Scodand and agreed to banish Monmouth from the kingdom. The latter accordingly went to Holland, where, as will be seen, he met with a gracious reception from William. Before this happened James returned to Brussels that he might conduct his family back to England. On their way they paid a visit to the Princess of Orange who received them with every demonstration of affection ; but this feeling was not extended to Colonel Churchill's wife, whom she had known at the English Court, when probably that dislike in Mary's mind for her sister's friend arose, which later on was to disturb the Court and embitter her days. His visit to The Hague being ended, James and his family returned to London, where by order of the King he left the Princess Anne and her stepsister the Princess Isabella in England, whilst he with the Duchess and their suite set out for Edinburgh. Sarah Churchill also remained behind, for at this time she was about to give birth to her first child. Her husband therefore took lodgings for her in Jermyn Street, St. James, where, as he was obliged to accompany the Duke, he left her In care of her sister Frances, Lady Hamilton, who was now a widow. In every town where James stayed in making a Royal progress to the North, Colonel Churchill wrote to his wife, expressing anxiety for her health and Cburcbili in Ebinburgb 47 assuring her, in almost the self-same words, of his ardent love. In one of these he says they expect to reach Edinburgh in about ten days, " but before I get thither I hope in God I shall hear you are safe and out of all danger, which news I long for most extremely, for believe me, upon my soul you are dearer to me than ever you were. I love you so well that I desire life no longer than you love me and I love you. Pray when you are not able to write yourself, make somebody or other write, so that I may constantly know how you do." When settled in Edinburgh this affectionate husband wrote his wife many letters, the following being a fair sample of those which went before and came after it. " Since my last to you we have had no letters, so I have not much more to say to you than that I do with all my soul wish myself with you ; and now that I am from you I do assure you I have no satisfaction than that of receiving yours and writing to you, and flatter myself that it will not now be long before I shall be truly happy in being with you again. You are so well beloved by me that if that will make you happy, you ought to be the happiest woman living, for none Is so well beloved as you are by me. I hope by the first post in the next month to send you word what day I shall leave this country, which is very much desired by me, not for any dislike of the country, but from the great desire I have to be with you, for you are dearer to me than ever you were in your life." 48 Hbe dueen's Comrabe Whilst in Scotland, James constantly begged the King to recall him, until at last yielding to his desire Charles permitted him to return ; His Majesty assuring his Council he found no effect from his brother's absence that could justify its continuance. This step was directly opposed to the wishes of the Prince of Orange, who secretly strove to persuade Charles to abandon his brother and exclude him from the suc cession, when Mary would become heir to the throne. For, from the time of his marriage, when Louis XIV. said that James had given his daughter to his worst enemy, William's daring ambition was to reign over the English people. His design was not weakened by his unpopularity in his own country, where the deputies of Amsterdam, who were " averse to his person," complained that he exercised his authority in an arbitrary manner and contrary to the fundamental laws of the Dutch Republic, and threatened to call him to account for his conduct, whilst the populace hissed him as he drove through the streets. James and his family returned to England in the early part of 1680 to the great delight of Colonel Churchill, who was eager to be with his wife and firstborn, who had been named Harriet. In a letter written before he started, he begs his wife to pray for fair weather, so that they may not be long in crossing — for he always suffered from sea sickness — and concludes by saying " I hope all the red spots of the child will be gone against I see her, and the nose straight, so that I may fancy It to be like her Sarab professes Doubt 49 mother ; for as she has your coloured hair, so I would have her be like you in all things else." The Duke of York's stay In England was brief; for his enemies dreading his influence which tended towards despotism, over the King, once more obliged His Majesty to banish him to Scotland, for which he left in October of the same year. Colonel Churchill accompanying him. Then began a fresh series of these ardent letters from the absent husband to his wife " writ with all my heart and soul," as he says in one of them, " by which I hope you will see that I desire nothing more in this world than your love, and that it is, if you please, absolutely in your power to make me love you as long as I live." He goes on to say his health is not all he would desire, for he still suffered from headaches, and adds, " All my misfortunes I attribute to my being from you, which after this time I hope never to be so long absent as long as I live. Pray let Harriet know by some very intelligible figure that I am very well pleased with her hair, and that I long to see her, hoping that since she has her mother's coloured hair that she may be also like her." But his constantly repeated assurances of affection failed to satisfy his exacting wife, who, from that incomprehensible desire so many women feel to wound those who love them best, professed to doubt his sincerity. Hurt by this he writes to her, " I think you are unjust to me In saying that you do not think I would forbear doing ought when you desire me, VOL. I. 4 so Ube dlueen's Comrabe when I vow to Almighty God I have not a greater pleasure in the world than In doing what I think would be agreeable to you, for on my faith you are dearer to me than all the rest of the world together. You say I ought not to judge you by myself, because you love better than I. Were that so," continues this enamoured husband, who well knew how untrue it was, " then were I happier than any man breathing, for 'tis you alone I only think kindly of, so that I should never be unhappy were I assured you love me so truly well as I do you. " I am not so unreasonable as to expect you should be kind if I were coquet, and made love to any other woman ; but since I do not, and love only you above my own life, I cannot but think but you are both unjust and unkind in having a suspicion of me, after so many assurances as I have given you to the contrary. In short you are the only thing on earth I do love or ever can, which I beg you will believe." During his absence in Scotland his wife gave birth, on July 19th, 1 68 1, to their second child, who was christened Henrietta and one of whose godmothers was Arabella Churchill, once mistress of the Duke of York but now the wife of Charles Godfrey, a captain in the Guards. During this year Colonel Churchill was sent on secret missions from James to Charles, their principal object being to represent the Duke's dis content at his banishment and to request leave to return. This was eventually granted him and he reached England in May 1682, to remain until his flight at the Revolution. lC>rince (Beorge of Denmark si His daughter IsabeUa had died in March of the previous year, and his daughter Anne was married in August 1683 to Prince George, brother of Frederick III. of Denmark. The prince was a blonde-complexioned, blue-eyed, fair-haired Dane, and a good-natured nonentity, neither bothered by ambition nor talents. Heavy, mild, gentle and indolent, he was a lover of good wine and pleasant company, and generally harm less as the necessary cat. By religion a Calvinist his chief recommendation lay in his not being a Catholic ; for Charles once more hoped to quell the fears of his people and win their popularity by securing a husband who was not a Papist for Anne who — as Mary was childless and the Duchess of York had no heir — stood in the direct line of succession. Whatever his feelings might be regarding the choice of such a husband for his second daughter, the Duke of York as usual submitted to the King's wishes ; an example that was far from being followed by one who had no claim to interfere. To forward his political intrigues the Prince of Orange had already suggested that Anne should marry Prince George of Hanover, who afterwards became George I. of England, and had managed to send him to England for inspec tion ; but WiUiam's plans undergoing alteration, he had Prince George — a pawn on a political chess-board — moved back again to his own country and married to his cousin the unhappy Sophia Dorothea of Zell. William being opposed to the marriage of Anne with a prince of Denmark sent William Bentinck formerly 52 Zbc (Slueen's Comrabe his page and now his Gentleman of the Bedchamber, to endeavour to break off the match, so that the princess might marry the Electoral Prince of Bran denburgh ; to which proposal the King refused to listen, much to the displeasure of WiUiam, who, when opportunity permitted, did not fail to show his contempt and dislike for Anne's husband. As for the princess who was given no choice regarding her union, she seemed as suitable to her husband as he was to her. Clinging, weak, and timid in disposition, she was readily ruled by her favourites, whUst she was obstinate and sullen towards those she disliked or dreaded. Charitable and generous, kind- hearted and merciful, she could at the same time show unexpected duplicity and obstinacy. Like her father she had exalted ideas of the royal prerogative, but was devoid of his enthusiasm for religion, whilst carefuUy observing its forms and supporting its principles. She had no love of display and had aU the domestic virtues necessary for an affectionate wife and a good mother, which was probably the secret of the popularity she enjoyed at aU times. In person she was middle-sized and in early life her figure was well proportioned. With the dark hair and marked features of her race, she was more comely than handsome, and not without dignity of expression before the weakness of her eyes contracted her brows in a frown. Her hands were beautiful, and she possessed that most excellent thing in woman, an exceedingly sweet voice. CHAPTER III Sarah Churchill made Lady of the Bedchamber to the Princess Anne — Colonel Churchill's Advance ment — His- Letter to His Wife — Lady Churchill's Account of her Favour with the Princess — Life at the Cockpit and Gossip of the Day — Letter from the Princess Anne — The King's Troubles — The Duke of Monmouth's Ambition — A Monmouth and no York— Progress through the Provinces — Arrest — Conspiracy against the Lives of His Father and Uncle — Harboured by the Prince of Orange — James Protests — Illness and Death of Charies II. — The New King — 111 Omen at His Coronation — His Industry and Economy — Openly Professes Catholicism — Appointment of Catholic Peers — Monmouth honoured at the Orange Court — The French Ambassador's Account — Plans of the Prince of Orange — Monmouth's Insurrection, Condemnation and Death — The Charms that Failed — Life at St. Albans — Birth of Lord Churchill's Children — Awaiting the Storm. Si CHAPTER III ON the marriage of Princess Anne, when her establishment was about to be formed, Sarah Churchill who probably did not share her husband's desire for retirement, asked to be appointed a Lady of the Bedchamber, the salary of which was two hundred a year. Her request was immediately re peated by Anne to her father, who always affectionate and indulgent, granted it, when she wrote to her favourite, saying " The Duke came in just as you were gone and made no difficulties, but has promised me that I shall have you, which I assure you is a great joy to me. I should say a great deal for your kindness in offering It, but I am not good at compliments. I will only say that I do take it extremely kind, and shall be ready at any time to do you all the service that lies in my power." The wife's promotion was quickly followed by that of the husband, for in December of the same year 1683, James rewarded his confidant and favourite by having him created Baron Churchill of Eyemouth, in Scotland, and giving him the command of a troop of the royal regiment of horse guards then being raised. 55 s6 Xtbe (Queen's Comrabe By careful saving from his salaries, and successful speculations. Colonel Churchill had by this time sufficient means to build himself a residence at Holy well, near St. Albans, and here it was his delight to retire with his family when his duties permitted. It was from this house that he wrote to his wife — whilst she was at Bath in attendance on the Princess Anne — telling her various domestic details, and adding, " You cannot imagine how I "am pleased with the children, for they, having nobody but their maid, they are so fond of me that when I am at home they will be always with me, and kissing and hugging me. Their heats are quite gone, so that against you come home they will be in beauty. . . . Miss is puUing me by the arm that she may write to her dear mama, so that I will say no more, only beg that you will always love me so well as I love you, and then we cannot but be happy." Lady Churchill, who was drinking the waters with the Princess Anne, was rapidly gaining an ascendency over her. In an account of her conduct, which in her old age the Duchess of Marlborough thought advisable to give to the world, she says she owed her promotion in the royal favour to the impression she had made on the Princess when they had played as children, and when Anne expressed a particular fondness for her that Increased with years. As they grew up the Princess showed her particular favour in making a confidant of her, and selecting her to share all her pleasures and amusements. THE PRINCESS ANNE. Page 56.] trbe Cocftpit 57 " What conduced to render me the more agreeable to her in this station," wrote the Duchess, " was doubtless the dislike she had conceived to most of the other persons about her ; and particularly to her first lady of the bedchamber, the Countess of Clarendon ; a lady whose discourse and manner (though the Princess thought they agreed very weU together) could not possibly recommend her to so young a mistress ; for she looked like a mad woman and talked like a scholar. Indeed her highness's court was throughout so oddly composed that I think it would be making myself no great compliment if I should say her choosing to spend more of her time with me, than with any of her other servants, did no discredit to her taste. Be that as it will, it is certain she at length distinguished me by so high a place in her favour, as perhaps no person ever arrived at a higher with queen or princess. And if from hence I may draw any glory, it is that I both obtained and held this place without the assistance of flattery ; a charm which in truth her inclination for me, together with my unwearied I application to serve and amuse her, rendered needless ; but which had It been otherwise, my temper and turn of mind would never have suffered me to employ." The Princess and her Court were on her marriage established In that part of the palace of Whitehall known as the Cockpit, from the fact that it had been built over the space where Henry VIII. deUghted to witness the national sport of cock-fighting. The Cockpit could boast of a spacious court, of imposing 58 Ube (Siueen's Comrabe gates with battlements and portcuUises, and of a view of green fields stretching to St. James's Park, whilst the stately towers of Westminster Abbey might be seen rising above its surrounding trees. It was here that Anne held an orderly Court on thirty thousand a year, ten of which represented her husband's income, the remainder having been settled on her by the King. The morning was spent in drives in Hyde Park or in pleasure trips on the river. Noon brought dinner, and in the evening Anne strummed on her guitar, played at cards, or listened to the latest whisperings of scandal or gossip concerning the Court or town : how the Irish widow, the Countess of Drogheda, was going to marry WUl Wycherley the playwright ; that the King had promised Katherine Pegg to make her son Earl of Plymouth ; that In Red Lion fields a four square house with three galleries round it had been set up for the killing of wild bulls by men on horseback, after the manner practised in Spain and Portugal ; that Elizabeth Hare, lately condemned for high treason in clipping His Majesty's coin, was according to her sentence burnt alive in BunhiU fields ; that Langley Curtis for printing a scandalous pamphlet called 'The Night Walkers of Bloomsbury was ordered to stand in the piUory in Bloomsbury market and pay a fine of five hundred pounds ; that Mr. Goodman the player was convicted of a conspiracy to poison the Dukes of Northumberland and Grafton, and was fined a thousand pounds ; how a rich widow, one Mrs. Synderfin, was Xabs Cburcbili anb anne S9 taken out of her coach at Hounslow Heath by Captain Clifford and his comrades and carried beyond seas, but was retaken at Calais and brought back to England ; for which Captain Clifford was flung into the Fleet prison but was rescued by friends who visited him, and notwithstanding the endeavours of the officers. As time passed Lady ChurchUl's dominant wiU continued to gain its influence over the plastic mind of her royal mistress, who looked to her for guidance, and when absent from the favourite wrote to her continually. In one of these letters penned at Winchester where she rested after having accompanied her father In his yacht when he reviewed the fleet at Portsmouth, she says : "I writ to you last Wednesday from on board the yacht and left my letter on Thursday morning at Portsmouth to go by the post, to be as good as my word In writing to my dear Lady ChurchUl by the first opportunity, I was in so great haste when I writ, that I fear what I said was nonsense, but I hope you have so much kindness for me as to forgive It If you wiU not let me have the satisfaction of hearing from you again before I see you, let me beg of you not to caU me your highness at every word, but to be as free with me as one friend ought to be with another ; and you can never give me any greater proof of your friendship than in telling me your mind freely in all things, which I do beg you to do ; and If ever it were In my power to serve you nobody would be more ready than myself. I am all impatient for Wednesday, till when farewell." The correspondence that passed between them was 6o zbc (Siueen's Comrabe soon to assume a greater famUiarity, the origin of which the Duchess relates. She begins by saying that kings and princes for the most part imagine they have a dignity peculiar to their birth which raises them above all connection of friendship. Their passion is to be admired and feared, to have subjects awfully obedient and servants blindly obsequious to their pleasure. To them friendship is an offensive word as it suggests equality. " The Princess had a different taste," she continues. " A friend was what she most coveted ; and for the sake of friendship (a relation which she did not disdain to have with me) she was fond even of that equality which she thought belonged to it. She grew uneasy to be treated by me with the form and ceremony due to her rank ; nor could she bear from me the sound of words which implied in them distance and superiority. It was this turn of mind which made her one day propose to me, that whenever I should happen to be absent from her, we might in all our letters write ourselves by feigned names such as would import nothing of distinction of rank between us. Morley and Freeman were the names her fancy hit upon, and she left me to chuse by which of them I would be called. My frank open temper naturally led me to pitch upon Freeman, and so the Princess took the other, and from this time Mrs. Morley and Mrs. Freeman began to converse as equals made so by affection and friendship." But whilst Anne and her circle were engaged in "a ^onmoutb anb no J^orft" 6i card playing and gossip, some events occurred of vast importance to the nation, of concern to all connected with the Court, and of much grief to the King whose reign, begun with such brilliancy, was closing in darkness. The first of these was connected with Charles's son, the Duke of Monmouth, who furious and jealous that the Duke of York had been allowed to return to England, at once set out from The Hague bent on claiming succession to the Throne. His first movement was to have the bar Indicating his illegitimacy, removed from his arms ; his second to circulate a story that proof of his mother's marriage to the King were hidden in a certain black box which the late Bishop of Durham had placed in the keeping of Sir Gilbert Gerrard ; his next was to make an almost royal progress through the discontented counties of Lancashire, Staffordshire, Worcestershire and Cheshire, accompanied by a retinue of over a hundred persons magnificently accoutred and armed. Excessively handsome, fascinating In manner, courting popularity, ostentatiously generous, and above all a rival of the dreaded James, he was received with enthusiasm by the crowds thronging the streets of the towns he visited, and who lustily cried " A Monmouth and no York." In a short time he was joined by Lords Macclesfield, Brandon, Rivers, Colchester, Dela mere, RusseU, and Grey, together with Sir Gilbert Gerrard and many others of the gentry who brought their tenants with them, all of them armed. His vanity and ambition prompted him to theatrical 62 Ubt CJueen's Comrabe displays ; for on approaching a town he quitted his coach, mounted a richly caparisoned horse, then — preceded at some distance by the nobility and gentry, and followed at an equal distance by the tenantry and servants — he rode alone, his handsome face lit by smiles, his long curls falling on his shoulders, his plumed hat in his hand, a spectacle to gain men's loyalty and women's hearts. And as he entered, bells were rung, bonfires were lit, and the surging crowds shouted their welcome. When he dined he usually ordered two hundred covers to be laid for himself and his friends, and the doors of the dining-room to be flung open, so that the populace might enter, walk round the table and admire their hero. When no tavern or inn sufficiently large to accommodate him could be found, he dined in the open fields. And the better to please the people he got up sports, he himself taking part in them, for he excelled in all manly exercises, and when he had outstripped the swiftest In the foot races, he ran again in his boots and beat his competitors in their shoes. At Liverpool he took upon himself the royal prerogative of touching for the King's evil, and his name was noised throughout the country until it reached the Court, causing great annoyance to the King and his brother. The end of Monmouth's glorification came one day when, as he was about to dine in public, as the guest of the inhabitants of Stafford, he was arrested and carried to London in the custody of the Sergeant-at- BMot to assassinate tbe llting 63 arms. Here he applied for a habeas corpus to the King's Bench and was balled by his friends. StiU with his ambitions fixed upon the Throne, his fears were roused by rumours that the Duchess of Portsmouth was striving to have the Duke of Rich mond her eldest son by the King, created Prince of Wales, Monmouth in 1683 joined Lords Russell, Essex, and Shaftesbury in a plot which at first limited itself to an Insurrection, but which developed into a conspiracy to assassinate the King and his brother. But this being discovered Monmouth fled and Shaftes bury betook himself to Amsterdam, where he died six weeks later. Russell was executed ; and to avoid a like fate, Essex committed suicide in the Tower on the same morning that His Majesty and the Duke of York had gone there to see some new invention in gunnery ; a fact their enemies seized on to spread a rumour that Essex had been murdered by the royal brothers. When he had spent three months in various hiding places, Monmouth, by the advice of his friends, wrote penitential letters to the King who was excessively fond of him, and on a promise of pardon, surren dered himself as a criminal to the Secretary of State. When brought into His Majesty's presence he fell at his feet, asking his forgiveness and that of James ; expressed his grief for what he had done, and gave detaUs of the plot. But when an account of this interview was inserted in the Gazette, he denied In pubUc that he had made any concessions or owned 64 Ubc diueen's Comrabe any knowledge of the conspiracy. When however the King commanded him to sign a paper avowing the truth of the Intended insurrection, he complied, but suddenly remembering the use that might be made of this confession, he immediately recalled it, when notwithstanding his affection for him Charles upbraided him in passionate terms and forbade him the Court. On this he crossed over to Holland where he was " received with the honours of war " by the Prince and Princess of Orange as the former admits ; at which the King was so incensed that he despatched a messenger to remonstrate, who fulfilled his mission in so faithful a manner that William wrote to complain of him. The Duke of York who had communicated to the Prince of Orange full details of the plot, was still more angty, and wrote to his daughter expostulating with her on the reception she gave to his enemies. In a letter dated June 6th, 1684, sent from Windsor he says : " I had not yours of the 9th till Wednesday by which I find you have received mine. I wrote to you upon the subject of Lord Brandon and I easily believe that you might have forgotten for what he had been in the Tower, yet others could not be ignorant of it, nor have so short memories ; and I must need teU you it scandalises all loyal and monarchal people here, to know how well the Prince lives with and how civil he is to the Duke of Monmouth and Lord Brandon ; and it heartens exceedingly the factious party here, which are a sort of people that one would think the t;be Dufte of /Ibonmoutb 65 Prince should not shew any countenance to ; and in this affair methinks you might talk with the Prince (though you meddle in no others) the Duke of Monmouth, Lord Brandon, and the rest of that party, being declaredly my mortal enemies. And let the Prince flatter himself as he pleases, the Duke of Monmouth will do his part, to have a push with him for the crown, if he, the Duke of Monmouth, outlive the King and me. Some posts since, I wrote pretty freely to the Prince upon this subject in general, to which I have yet had no answer. However it will become you very well to speak to him of it." But the remonstrances of the King and his brother had no effect with the designing WiUiam, and " from this period" writes Sir John Dalrymple "the court of the Prince of Orange became a place of refuge for every person who had either opposed the Duke of York's succession, or appeared to be attached to the Duke of Monmouth. Most of those who had followed Monmouth's fortunes, or who desired to do so, were soon after provided for by the Prince in the British regiments which were in the service of the Dutch ; circumstances which were only wanting to alienate for ever the affections of the two royal brothers from the Prince. They ever believed that he had given encouragement to that part of the conspiracy in which the great men had been engaged." The knowledge that he had no legitimate son to succeed him ; the ingratitude and perfidy of Monmouth whom he loved so well and on whom he had lavished VOL. I. 5 66 trbe (Queen's Comrabe so many favours ; the unpopularity of the Duke of York on account of his religion ; the behaviour of the Prince of Orange, and his own pecuniary embarrass ments, weighed heavily on the King during his last days ; his proverbial gaiety deserted him, and his courtesy of speech, ease of manner, and gracious actions that had formerly fascinated all who approached him, now became conspicuous by their absence. The first intimation that his day was near done was given him on February 2nd, 1685, when he was seized with an apoplectic fit. Immediately the whole Court was in commotion, terror spreading far and near at thought of his death and its consequences. The Queen, the Duke of York, and Dr. King were soon beside him, the latter giving him Jesuit's powders and bleeding him freely. He regained consciousness only to lose it again, and symptoms of epilepsy showing themselves he was bled once more. Three days later it was known to himself and to those around him that recovery was impossible, and that he might not last four-and-twenty hours, when with perfect calmness he prepared to face the Inevitable. Monsieur Barillon, ambassador to Louis XIV. in a letter written to that monarch gives a detailed and interesting account of Charles's last hours. On hearing that there was no hope for the King he went immediately to Whitehall where crowds of watchful and melancholy courtiers were gathered in the halls and ante-chambers, whose ominous silence was broken only by their whispers, or the quick tread of some messenger coming to or trbe D^ing IRing 67 from His Majesty's apartments. Hearing of the ambassador's arrival, the Duke of York came to him saying " The physicians think the King in extreme danger. I desire you to assure your master that he shall always have in me a faithful and grateful servant." He also spoke of the feelings of the people, and the assurance given him from every quarter that all was quiet, and that he should be proclaimed the moment the King was dead. Monsieur Barillon remained in the palace some five hours, sometimes going Into the King's chamber, where the dying man lay in his heavily curtained bed, breathing with difiiculty, and occasionally moaning from pain. Once he went to the apartments of the Duchess of Portsmouth, and found her overwhelmed with grief ; but instead of speaking of her loss, she drew him aside, and in a frightened voice said, " Monsieur the ambassador, I am going to tell you the greatest secret In the world, and my head would be in danger if it was known. The King of England at the bottom of his heart is a Catholic ; but he is surrounded with Protestant bishops, and nobody tells him his condition, or speaks to him of God. I cannot with decency enter the room, besides that the Queen Is almost constantly there ; the Duke of York thinks of his own affairs, and has too many of them to take the care he ought of the King's conscience. Go and tell him I have conjured you to warn him to think of what can be done to save the King's soul. He commands the room and can turn out whom he wiU. 68 trbe diueen's Comrabe Lose no time, for if it is deferred ever so little, it will be too late." Charged with this message the ambassador hurriedly delivered it to the Duke, who rousing himself as from a deep lethargy replied, " You are in the right ; there is no time to lose. I will hazard all rather than not do my duty on this occasion." But from fear of inflaming the prejudices of the populace and endangering his own succession, great caution had to be taken, and it was an hour before the Duke could tell the ambassador that he had spoken to his Majesty and " found him resolved not to take the sacrament which the Protestant bishops had pressed him to receive ; that this had surprised them much, but that one or other of them would remain always in the room, if he did not find a pretence to make everybody leave it, in order that he might have an opportunity of speaking to the King with freedom and disposing him to make a formal renunciation of heresy and confess himself to a Catholic priest." Various expedients were thought of ; James sug gesting that the ambassador should ask leave to speak to the King in private so that an excuse might be found for sending the bishops and officers of the Court out of the King's room ; but Monsieur BarUlon thought this might give rise to strange rumours, and that it was not likely he would be left with the King long enough to accomplish what they desired. Even tually the Duke resolved to speak to the King before aU present, yet in a tone that none might hear what CHARLES II. P„.^-c 69.] jfatber ibubbleston 69 was said, believing that this would remove all suspicion and that it would be thought he merely consulted with the dying man on affairs of state. " Thus " says the ambassador " without any further precaution the Duke of York stooped down to his brother's ear, after having ordered that no one should approach. I was In the room and more than twenty persons at the door which was open. What the Duke of York said was not heard, but the King of England said from time to time very loud, ' Yes with all my heart.' He sometimes made the Duke of York repeat what he said because he did not easily hear him. This lasted near a quarter of an hour." The difficulty now was to smuggle into the King's room a priest whose face was not familiar to the Court. Those in the suite of the Duchess of York being weU known, it was thought of sending to the Venetian Embassy for a chaplain ; but at the last moment the Earl of Castlemethor found amongst the Queen's priests a Scotchman named Huddleston, who had saved the King's life after the battle of Worcester, in return for which he had by Act of Parliament been excepted from the laws against Catholics and priests. Before he was brought into the room the Duke of York said "The King wills that everybody should retire except the Earls of Bath and Feversham," these being the First Lord of the Bedchamber and the Lord in Waiting. When all but these had gone. Father Huddleston disguised in wig and gown was brought to the bedside of His Majesty to whom his brother 70 trbe (liueen's Comrabe said, " Sire here is a man who saved your life and is now come to save your soul," on which the King answered " He is welcome." The last sacraments were then administered to him, whUe those in the ante-room looked at one another, " but nobody said anything but by their eyes. The presence of Lord Bath and Lord Feversham, who are Protestants, has satisfied the bishops a little," writes Barillon. After this the King seemed to grow better and spoke more intelligibly, and with feeling and affection to James, to whom he recommended aU his chUdren save the Duke of Monmouth whom he never men tioned. His chaplain the Bishop of Bath and WeUs read prayers but " was not officious in saying anything particular to him or proposing that he should make a profession of his faith. He was apprehensive of a refusal, but feared stiU more to irritate the Duke of York." The Queen came and begged his pardon if she had at any time offended him, and he begged hers, remembering how heavily he had sinned against her, who was yet so grieved to part from him ; and the Duke of York falling on his knees kissed his brother's hands on which his tears fell fast. That night the calmness of coming death fell on Charles, and at dawn he asked to have the curtains drawn that he might once more look upon the day. Later he was seized with pain for which he was once more bled, when as a consequence he lost consciousness, and at midday on February 6th, 1685, died without a struggle. James proclaimeb Iking 71 On the same day James was proclaimed King, and on April 23rd was crowned. The ceremony which took place on a gracious day in spring in Westminster Abbey, where he was surrounded by peers and peeresses in robes of state, was not to pass without incidents which were afterwards declared omens : for the crown, not fitting his head, sUpped and would have fallen had it not been for Henry Sidney, the keeper of the robes, who remarked " This is not the first time our famUy has supported the crown." The diamond, ruby and emerald button from his sceptre was lost the same day. His brief reign which was to have so many sensational developments — and In which this biography is much concerned — began well ; for in his first speech to the Privy Council he declared he would show great clemency and tenderness to his people ; adding " I have been reported to be a man fond of arbitrary power, but that is not the only falsehood which has been reported of me. And I shall make it my endeavour to preserve this government both in church and state as it is now established by law." He had always been methodical and businesslike, and the people were pleased to see that he diligently applied himself to the affairs of the nation, that he daily presided at the Council, at the Boards of the Admiralty and Treasury, where he entered into all the details of the great departments of state, and reduced all un necessary expenses. But such traits as these, unknown to the late reign, were forgotten in the fear caused by his open profession 72 trbe (Siueen's Comrabe of Catholicity. For on the first Sunday after his accession, he accompanied the Queen to Mass attended by aU the ensigns of royalty. The Duke of Norfolk who carried the sword of State, stopped short at the Chapel door, when James In passing him said " My Lord, your father would have gone farther" ; to which came the prompt reply " Your Majesty's father wotUd not have gone so far." He next dispensed with the tests which had disabled Catholics from serving in the Army ; and within a year of his accession, at the instance of his chief Secretary of State the Earl of Sunderland, " a man fitted by nature for stratagem, deception, and intrigue," he formed a secret Council of Catholics to consult on matters of religion ; its members consisting of the Earl of Powis, Lords Arundel, BeUasis, Dover, and Castlemaine, together with Father Petre ; its first action being to send Lord Castlemaine on an embassy to the Pope, who received him coldly. In July of the same year 1686 these noblemen were made members of the Privy CouncU to the astonishment and consternation of the nation. "I was very much surprised when I heard of the new Privy Counsellors," the Princess Anne writes to her favourite, "for it wiU give great countenance to those sort of people and methinks it has a very dismal prospect. Whatever changes there are in the world," she adds, " I hope you wiU never forsake me and I shaU be happy." According to Lady Marlborough, the King was Ibonours to Cburcbili 73 anxious that his daughter Anne should become a member of the religion in which her mother had died and which he professed ; but she admits " the King indeed used no harshness with her ; he only discovered his wishes by putting Into her hands some books and papers which he hoped might induce her to a change of religion ; and had she any inchnation that way the chaplains about her were such divines as could have said but little in defence of their own religion, or to secure her against the pretences of popery recommended to her by a father and a king. Lord Tyrconnel also, who had married my sister, took some pains with me, to engage me If possible to make use for the same end of that great favour which he knew I enjoyed with the Princess ; but all his endeavours proved vain." The new reign brought promotion and honour to the writer and her family. On the appointment of the second Lord Clarendon — James's brother-in-law — to the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland, his wife went with him to that country, an event that gave Anne " a sensible joy," as Lady Churchill writes, " Not only as it released her from a person very disagreeable to her, but as it gave her an opportunity of promoting me to be first lady of her Bedchamber, which she im mediately did, with a satisfaction to herself that was not to be concealed." Almost at the same time Frances Jennings' second husband, Dick Talbot, was created Earl of Tyrconnel and made Lieutenant-General of the Irish army ; whilst the King's confidant was raised to the English peerage by the tide of Lord Churchill 74 trbe CHueen's Comrabe of Sandridge in the County of Hertford, and was sent to Louis XIX. to formally announce James's accession to the throne, and to thank the French Monarch for the timely gift of twenty-five thousand pounds which the King had gratefully received from him at a moment when his exchequer was empty. His Majesty who was stiU offended with his son- in-law the Prince of Orange, declined to pay him the compliment of sending an ambassador with the news of his accession, but wrote him a few dry lines teUing him of that event. For it was plain that the Prince in harbouring and honouring Monmouth, was utiUsing that vain and impressionable young man as a means of disturbing and dividing the English nation for his — William's — ambitious purposes. Some account of the manner in which Monmouth was entertained is told by the French Ambassador to The Hague. " The Prince of Orange," writes the Marquis d' Avaux, "was heretofore the most jealous of men; scarcely would he permit the Princess to speak to a man or even to a woman ; now he presses the Duke of Monmouth to come after dinner to her apartments to teach her country dances. Likewise the Prince of Orange charged her by the complaisance she owed to him, to accompany the Duke of Monmouth in skating parties, this great frost. A woman in common life would make herself a ridiculous sight if she did as the Princess of Orange does, who is learning to glide on the ice with her petticoats trussed up to her knees, skates buckled on her shoes, and sliding absurdly trbe prince of ©range 75 enough first on one foot and then on the other. . . . William himself set all the world dancing at the balls he gave and encouraged his guests and his wife by dancing himself. He likewise obliged the Princess to receive at her court and to countenance the Duke of Monmouth's mistress or secondary wife. Lady Harriet Wentworth. He carried the appearance of his affection (for Monmouth) so far, that he scarce bestowed any favours but through the Duke's inter cession. He was indulged with the same leave with Bentinck to enter his chamber at all hours ; and he was so greatly deemed a favourite that the world paid through him their whole court to the Prince." The schemes for displacing James, fostered In the Court of the Prince of Orange, were sufficiently advanced to enable Monmouth to make his first move ment towards rebellion immediately after hearing of his father's death. How news of that event reached The Hague Is best told by the Ambassador d' Avaux, to whom we are indebted for many interesting particulars regarding the Orange Court. " Letters from England of the 6 th of February (old style) arrived here at seven this morning," he writes. " They communicated the sorrowful tidings of the death of the King of England, Charles II. The Prince of Orange did not go into the chamber of his wife, where she was holding a court of reception for the ladies of The Hague ; he sent a message requesting her to come down and hear the news. The Duke of Monmouth came like-wise 76 trbe (Jiueen's Comrabe to listen to these despatches. It is said that Mary manifested deep affliction at the death of her uncle. Monmouth retired to his own lodging and came to the Prince at ten in the evening. They were shut up together till midnight sounded. Then Monmouth the same night left The Hague secretly ; and so well was his departure hidden, that it was supposed at noon the next day, that he was in bed. The Prince of Orange gave him money for his journey." On February 14th at Rotterdam, Monmouth met the Earl of Argyle who, in the late reign, had been im prisoned for high treason but had managed to escape, only to join the conspiracy in 1683 for Insurrection and assassination of the late King and his brother. Being now ripe for further mischief, it was his plan to raise a rebellion In Scotland at the same time that Monmouth invaded England. Both needed funds, but the Prince of Orange was less ready with his money for war expenses, than with his enthusiasm for their scheme. The want was partly remedied when the Duke sold his plate and his mistress's jewels, and Argyle received ten thousand pounds from a trusting widow. Ships and ammunition were bought, but not without attracting the notice of Skelton the English minister who Immediately applied to the Prince of Orange to put an embargo on the vessels. The latter managed to postpone his answer for a day, but at last gave the required order, only to countermand it, and Argyle set sail with the vessels on the understanding that Monmouth should follow him. /Ibonmoutb's Jnvasion 77 Whilst this was happening the Prince of Orange, playing a wily part, sent an ambassador to England to make apologies for whatever had given offence in the past, and to promise a strict obedience to His Majesty's will in the future. And later during Monmouth's invasion, he offered his services to James who " chose to encounter his enemies alone, rather than to trust such a friend in his kingdom at the head of a regular force." Monmouth landed at Lyme Regis in the month of June 1685 ; whence he Issued a proclamation de nouncing the King as a usurper, a murderer, a traitor and a tyrant ; hearing which James sent a message to the two Houses of Parliament who unanimously agreed to stand by His Majesty with their lives and fortunes. None of nobUity joined the Invader but the common people flocked round him. Always daring, he now assumed the title of King, set a price on the head of James, declared the Parliament a seditious assembly, and threatened if they did not separate within a month, to proceed against them as rebels and traitors. Later he commanded the Duke of Albemarle, who was at the head of the Militia, to lay down his arms under pain of treason, and sent a summons to Lord Churchill, who was at the head of his own corps and the Dorsetshire MiUtia, claiming his allegiance as King of England and enjoining him to desist from all hostilities. Greatly owing to Churchill's activity, vigilance and courage, his ready skill and prompt decision, the battle of Sedgemoor was won for James. The Duke fled, galloping for twenty miles without knowing where he 78 trbe (Queen's Comrabe was going. Two days later he was found disguised as a peasant lying in a ditch, in his pocket some green peas on which he had supported himself. Worn out from hunger and want of sleep, he fainted when arrested. On his way to London he wrote a submissive letter to the King offering to make disclosures should he be admitted to his presence. Excited by curiosity, James sent Sheldon to meet him. Monmouth asked who was in the confidence of the King, and when Sunderland was named, replied, " Why then as I hope for salvation he promised to meet me." He desired Sheldon to tell the King several of his accomplices were in favour with His Majesty, and he promised to give a particular account of the part the Prince of Orange acted In the Rebellion. When this was repeated to Sunderland he laughingly answered, " If that is aU he can discover to save his life, he will derive little good from his information " ; but he secretly sent to Mon mouth saying that as he was certain of receiving a pardon, he ought to conceal everything prejudicial to his friends who could serve him on some other and more favourable occasion. So that when Monmouth was admitted to James's presence he suppressed what he had said to Sheldon and made no mention of the Prince of Orange. That individual had sent Bentinck to congratulate the King on his victorv ; but though the ambassador found no discovery of his master's perfidy was made, he was never quiet till Monmouth was dead, as James afterwards wrote. The Duke who was but thirty-seven, trbe Ejecution of /Ibonmoutb 79 had pleaded hard for his life, but the King declared that though much affected by his misfortunes, his example was too dangerous to be left unpunished. When the day was fixed for his execution, Monmouth wrote to James asking for a short respite, for he had been told by a fortune teller that if he outlived that date, he would be reserved for great things. His request was not granted. On the morning of the tragedy he confessed he was afraid to die and then asked, " could any one perceive it from his countenance." He examined the axe fearing it would not do its ghastly work at a blow, which happened to be the case, for it was not until the third stroke that his head was severed. In his pockets were found several spells against danger, which had failed to save his life. Argyle had already been executed, but the man who had forwarded their schemes lived to mount a throne. Whilst these and later events were taking place. Lord ChurchiU and his wife, when freed from their duties at Court, spent their time at St. Albans, which as he mentioned in one of his letters, might be reached in four hours from London. It was here that their third child was born In February 1684, and was named Anne after the Princess of Denmark, who was one of her godmothers. It was however a prouder day in the lives of these parents when, in January 1686, a son and heir was born to them. Though Lord Churchill had gained James's favour, and had had his services rewarded before the Duke came to the throne, the royal friendship had since then 86 trbe (Siueen*s Comrabe considerably cooled ; for the King's enthusiasm for his religion, and his intolerance of all who differed from him, would not allow him to promote one who was unwilling to change his faith, and who had already warned his royal master of the danger his injudicious zeal for Catholicism might bring upon the nation. Lord ChurchUl and his wife foreseeing the coming storm, lived as quietly as possible until the time arrived for them to play their respective parts in the Revolution. CHAPTER IV Brief Glance at a Historical Drama — The Endeavours of the King — Schemes of the Prince of Orange — Birth of the Prince of Wales — Rumours and Calumnies — Conduct of the Princess Anne — Her Letters to the Princess of Orange — The Invasion of England — The King writes to His Eldest Daughter — Lord Clarendon remonstrates with Anne — James is betrayed and deserted — The Cruellest Blow — Anne's Flight from London — What Lord Chesterfield saw and said — The Queen quits England — The King's Fears — Last Night in England— A Divided Parliament — William's Anger and Disappointment — Lord Danby writes to Mary — Her Answer and Gratitude — Anne waives Her Claims — Lady Churchill explains — So very Simple a Creature — The New King and Queen — Rewards of Lord Churchill. VOL. I. 8i CHAPTER IV IN the brief summary of the stirring historic drama in which King James played so fateful and tragic a part, it will be seen that almost every act of his reign was calculated to shorten It. His ineradicable belief in the divine right of royalty, inclined him to govern independent of Parliament, and to infringe liberties dear to his subjects ; whilst the Injudicious ardour of the convert prompted him to establish a religion which their prejudices and the suggestions of his enemies, taught them to dread. It was therefore with con sternation and wonder that they saw fourteen monks settled at St. James's ; a Carmelite monastery opening its schools In the City ; the Jesuits building themselves a church in the Savoy ; the Recollects establishing their order in Lincoln's Inn ; the Archbishop of Amasia, the Pope's nuncio, pubUcly received at Windsor Castle, and in company with the King, entertained as the guest of the Lord Mayor. Measures followed which were even more ob jectionable to the populace. The offices of the First Commissioner of the Treasury, and Lord-Lieutenant 83 84 trbe Ciueen's Comrabe of Ireland were given to Catholic peers ; the Duke of Somerset was dismissed from the post of Lord of the Bedchamber, and from his regiment of dragoons, for declining to attend the Pope's nuncio to his audience ; whUst the Bishop of London was sus pended during His Majesty's pleasure for having, at the King's request, refused to suspend the rector of St. Giles, who had preached a sermon on Catholicism calculated to stir religious strife. In February, 1687, a royal proclamation was issued at Edinburgh granting a general toleration to aU religious sects, repealing aU penal and disabling laws, annulling the test oaths and breaking down religious distinctions between subject and subject, to the great satisfaction of the Scotch who were chiefly Presby terians ; but in England this was considered a wicked outrage on the Established Church. And when three months later the same Indulgence was extended to the English people, the greater part of them viewed it with bitter hostility, as a scheme of clemency for their Catholic neighbours. When in the month of April in the following year, the King ordered the Declaration of IndiUgence to be read in all the churches and chapels, six bishops, together with the Archbishop of Canterbury petitioned him not to insist on this command, " which was at once contrary to their principles and to the established laws." The King answered that he did not expect such conduct from the Church of England ; adding that if he changed his mind, they should hear from him. trrial of tbe Seven JBisbops 85 Whilst undecided how to act, the infamous Judge Jeffreys, then Lord ChanceUor, persuaded James to summon them before his council. On this being done the bishops not only refused to obey His Majesty but to find recognisances for their appearance before the King's Bench ; nor would they give a promise to attend in case they were called. As a result they were committed to the Tower, to the alarm of the people, who were stirred to excitement by the publication of their petition ; and were led to believe this was but a first blow in the attack on their religion which the King Intended to make. The suspicion and fear arising from this action were utilised by His Majesty's enemies to hasten his rapid downfall. On June 29th, 1688, the bishops were brought to trial " upon an information for their publishing a libel concerning their refusal to read the Declaration of Indulgence " ; and were eventuaUy acquitted, when the sentence was received with such joy by the crowds assembled at Westminster Hall and Palace Yard, that their shouts could be heard at the Temple. In all the measures he employed to deprive himself of the confidence of his subjects, James was advised by the Chief Secretary, Robert second Earl of Sunderland, who was in correspondence with, if not In the pay of, the Prince of Orange, and who the more success fully to delude the King and gain his confidence, professed to be converted to Catholicity by His 86 trbe (Slueen's Comrabe Majesty's arguments ; when according to a letter written by Lady Russell, Lord Sunderland " carried the torch and ask'd pardon for his heresie " ; his fervid devotion greatly edifying the Queen. The King then became a mere puppet in the hands of a man whose insatiable avarice and abandoned principles made him the most evil of counciUors. " To encourage the King in his enthusiasm for Popery," says Macpherson, " was to furnish him with the certain means of his own ruin ; and the earl managed this weakness with such address, that his deluded master deemed himself in a prosperous condition, whUe the sceptre was ready to fall from his hands." Every step taken by the King was watched by the Prince of Orange, who subtly endeavoured to promote dissension between James and his subjects ; aided on the one hand by Sunderland, and on the other by Dykvelt whom he sent to England, apparently on business connected with Holland, but in reality to intrigue with those disaffected to the King. In writing of this time. Lady ChurchUl says it was evident that sooner or later everybody " must be ruined who would not become a Roman Catholic," a con sideration which, she adds, " made me very well pleased at the Prince of Orange's undertaking to rescue us from such slavery." That she Impressed this opinion on her husband there can be little doubt, for he was amongst the first to receive the advances of Dykvelt, and declare himself in favour of the Prince of Orange, to whom on May 17th, 1687, he wrote the following Discoursing witb DsKvelt 87 letter, which subsequently he must often have wished that he could recall. " The Princess of Denmark having ordered me to discourse with Monsieur Dykvelt and to let him know her resolutions, so that he might let your highness and the princess her sister know, that she was resolved by the assistance of God to suffer all extremities even to death itself, rather than be brought to change her religion, I thought It my duty to your highness and the princess royal, by this opportunity of Monsieur Dykvelt, to give you assurances under my own hand, that my place and the King's favour I set at naught In comparison of being true to my religion. In all things but this the King may command me ; and I call God to witness that even with joy I should expose my life for his service, so sensible am I of his favours. I know the troubling you sir, with thus much of myself, I being of so little use to your highness, Is very impertinent, but I think it may be a great ease to your highness and the princess to be satisfied that the Princess of Denmark is safe In the trusting of me ; I being resolved though I cannot Uve the Ufe of a saint, if there be ever occasion for it, to show the resolution of a martyr." Before the end of the year other peers, amongst whom were Lords Danby, Nottingham, and Shrewsbury, offered their services to the Prince of Orange who now began to prepare for an invasion. His schemes were however momentarily checked when in January 1688, it was pubUcly proclaimed that the Queen was 88 trbe (Siueen's Comrabe once more with child ; for the birth of a male heir to the throne might materiaUy interfere with WiUiam's plans for seizing the crown. It therefore became necessary to his designs that doubts should be thrown on the truth of the pro clamation, and rumours were soon abroad that Her Majesty's pregnancy was a fiction ; that she suffered from dropsy ; that the Papists were determined at aU hazards to support their interests by providing a sup posititious heir to the throne. So much was whispered in England, but at The Hague doubts of the Queen's condition were first printed, whUst Indecent libels against the King were encouraged in the States of HoUand. Presently becoming more assured by the disloyalty of James's subjects, who out of fear for their religion, love of novelty, through disappointment, out of hopes of raising themselves, or in resentment, favoured the Prince of Orange in his designs, he began to prepare the foreign Powers for his invasion, playing the jealousy or hatred of one against the other, and even applying for aid to Pope Innocent XI. who was assured that " the Catholic princes were in the wrong to expect any advantage to their faith from James, as his being a declared Papist rendered his people averse to his measures. As for himself (William) should he have the good fortune to mount the EngUsh throne he might take any step in favour of the Roman CathoUcs without jealousy ; and he promised to procure a toleration for the Papists, should the Pope, the prince of Males born 89 Emperor of Austria, and the King of Spain favour his attempt. The negociation produced the desired effect. Innocent contributed with the money of the church to expel a Roman Catholic prince from his throne." WhUst William was stealthily preparing for an in vasion, a male child was born to the King in June 1688. The scandalous rumours of a fictitious preg nancy. Induced the King to establish beyond doubt the validity of the birth so that, as a chronicler of the times says, " the common forms of decency were scarce observed." Joy bells were rung, bonfires blazed, prayers were offered in thanksgiving for the heir to the crown, Whitehall was crowded with courtiers amongst whom were many clergy anxious to offer congratulations, and addresses poured in from all parts. But at the same time the great body of the people regarded the birth of the infant Prince of Wales, who would be reared in the faith and prejudices of his father, as an additional menace to their liberties and religion. And so far-reaching was this fear, that the heir almost died before a wet-nurse could be found for him. The dread that the Queen, who already had given birth to a short-lived son, should again become mother of an heir to the crown, had fallen like a shadow not only on WiUiam's ambitions but on those of Anne ; and both she and her sister were willing nay anxious to beUeve that their father, always affectionate and indulgent to them, was ready to commit a villainous 96 XLbc (Siueen*s Comrabe fraud on the nation, an irreparable wrong against themselves. Months before the birth of the Prince of Wales, Anne had begun a correspondence with Mary relative to the event ; at one time stating the probability that Mansel, as she called the King, would " have a son, which I conclude he wUl, there being so much reason to believe " a male child would be born ; whilst again she declares her suspicions that when the Queen " is brought to bed, no one wiU be convinced 'tis her child, unless it prove a daughter." Though Anne's presence at the birth of the infant would end all suspicions and leave no room for doubts which were to prove valuable to William and herself, she declared as the time drew near for the Queen's accouchement, that it was imperative to her own condition she should drink the waters at Bath ; for where she set out, notwithstanding her father's earnest request that she should stay with her stepmother at this critical moment. By the time the Prince of Wales was born, Anne had derived all the benefit she desired from the waters and was back at her residence at the Cockpit on June 15th ; from whence three days later she wrote to Mary, " My dear sister can't imagine the concern and vexation I have been in, that I should be so unfortunate to be out of town when the Queen was brought to bed, for I shaU never more be satisfied, whether the child be true or false. It may be it is our brother but God knows. . . . After aU this 'tis possible it may be her child (the Queen's) but where Jllness of tbe ip»rince gt one believes it, a thousand do not. For my part except they do give very plain demonstrations (which 'tis almost Impossible now) I shall ever be of the number of the unbelievers. I don't find that people are at all disheartened but seem all of a mind, which is a very comfortable thing at such a time as this." To the comfort she found in the general belief in her father's crime, another was shortly afterwards added, for three weeks later she thought the child was dying. " The Prince of Wales," she writes, giving him his title, " has been ill these three or four days ; and if he has been so bad as people say, I believe It will not be long before he is an angel in heaven." The next letter from Mary brought a string of questions relative to the birth which were answered by Anne, but their correspondence, given in an appendix of Dalrymple s Memoirs, is too outrageously Indelicate for modern publication. Added to the replies which clearly proved the genuineness of the birth, Anne gave the testimony of her old nurse Mrs. Dawson, who had not only been present when the Princess of Orange and her sister came into world, but also when the Prince of Wales made his entrance ; he being as she vowed, as truly the son of the Queen, as Anne was of the late Duchess of York. Meanwhile WUUam, anxious to blind his father- in-law regarding his intentions, sent his confidant Zulestein to congratulate the King on the birth of an heir, whose right to that title he was at the same gi trbe Ciueen's Comrabe moment denying to the States of Holland. Nay in order that his wife might still be considered heir to the throne, and that odium might be thrown on her father, he ordered a book to be written declaring the Prince of Wales an Imposture, promised protection to all who would declare it, and announced that the real mother of the child was then on her way to Amsterdam. Though preparations were now actively carried on by day and by night, by land and by sea for the invasion of England, James remained obstinately blind to his danger, thinking it impossible that the son-in-law who made such protestations of friendship to him, and the daughter for whom he felt such affection, could conspire against him ; so that he declined to receive the warn ings and help of France, and incredible as it may seem, he was obtuse enough to send his envoy Skelton to the Tower, because on returning from The Hague he persisted In warning His Majesty of the treachery of William and Mary. To all who spoke of the Dutch preparations for war, he smilingly showed them a letter from his daughter assuring him that her husband was merely guarding himself against threatened dangers from France ; though as will be shown, Mary was well aware of William's intentions, and had already agreed that in case he seized the throne, she would make her own rights subservient to his. Even when the truth of William's designs was forced on James, his generous nature refused to suspect his daughter of deceit and faithlessness. Accordingly he trbe Iking's Xetter to /Ibar^ 93 wrote to her from Whitehall on September 28th, 1688, saying : " This evening I had yours of the 4th from Dieren, by which I find you were then to go to The Hague, being sent for by the Prince. I suppose it is to inform you of his design of coming to England, which he has been so long a contriving. I hope " he continues, referring to Mary's frequent assertions that the prepar ations in Holland were not intended for the invasion of England, " it will have been as great a surprise to you as it was to me when I first heard it, being sure it Is not in your nature to approve of so unjust an undertaking. I have been all this day so busy to endeavour to be in some condition to defend myself from so unjust and unexpected an attempt, that I am almost tired, and so I shaU say no more but that I shall always have as much kindness for you, as you will give me leave to have." Similar feelings of surprise and trust were expressed by the Queen when writing to Mary on the same date. The letter is given here chiefly as a proof of the affection James had for his eldest daughter, which continued until her deliberate betrayal of him could no longer be ignored. " I am much troubled what to say at a time when nothing is talked of but the Prince of Orange coming over with an army," writes Her Majesty. " This has been said for a long time, and believed by a great many, but I do protest to you that I never did believe till now, very lately, that I have no possibility left of doubting It. The second part of the news I never will believe, which is, that you are to come 94 trbe (Hueen's Comrabe over with him — for I know you to be too good. I do not believe you could have such a thought against the worst of fathers, much less to perform it against the best, who has always been so kind to you, and, I do believe has loved you better than any of his children." Meantime hasty preparations were being made to meet the enemy ; concessions were granted to the people ; promises given ; objectionable measures removed ; and forty thousand troops collected. On October loth the King told Lord Clarendon, who though deprived of his office as Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, remained faithful to his royal brother-in-law, that the Prince pf Orange had embarked with his Dutch troops, adding in a melancholy tone " I have nothing by this day's post from my daughter, the Princess of Orange, and it is the first time I have missed hearing from her for a long time." He was never to hear from her again. Lord Clarendon, who whilst deeply deploring James's religious opinions, admired his many good qualities and pitied his present misfortunes, waited on Anne, as he records in his diary, earnestly requesting her to speak to her father and be the means of prevailing on him to hear some of his faithful old friends, but she told him shortly enough " she would do nothing." It was at this time, in the midst of preparations for war that James thought well, in response to the scandals spread by William, to have a Privy Council examination into the birth of the Prince of Wales. Before the statements made, there could be no further Clarenbon remonstrates witb anne 9s doubt that this child was born of the Queen, save by those who wished to believe in the imposture for their own purposes. On the morning after the Privy Council had given its opinion. Lord Clarendon went to teU Anne the news, and found her surrounded by her women who were dressing her. This did not prevent her from talking of the subject, for on seeing him she burst out, " Fine discourse you heard at Council yesterday," and then she made merry, laughing at the whole affair and encouraging the jests of her women. " I was amazed at her behaviour but I thought it unfit to say anything then," writes Lord Clarendon. " I whispered to Her Royal Highness to request that she would give me leave to speak with her In private. ' It grows late,' replied the Princess, ' and I must hasten to prayers ; but you can come at any time except this afternoon.' So I went home. In the evening my brother Laurence was with me. I told him all con cerning the Princess Anne. I begged him to go and talk to her. ' It will signify nothing,' emphatically replied the other uncle of the Princess." When next Lord Clarendon saw Anne, she made excuses to avoid a conference with him, but as he was determined to speak to his niece, he called on her two days later when, as he writes, " I told her that I was extremely surprised and shocked the other day to find her royal highness speak so slightingly regarding her family affairs, and above all to suffer her women to break their unseemly jests regarding the birth of her 96 trbe Queen's Comrabe brother. ' Sure you cannot but hear the common rumours concerning him,' repUed the Princess." Her uncle said he heard strange rumours, but that there was no colour in them ; when Anne declared she would not say she believed them, but the Queen's conduct was very odd and adding such expressions as cannot be transcribed. Lord Clarendon begged her to consider the miseries that might be entaUed on the kingdom even in case the Queen gave birth to other sons, and asked her to publicly show she considered this infant her brother ; to which she made no response. By directions of the King the whole Privy Council waited on Anne with copies of the depositions regarding the birth of the Prince of Wales ; when the Princess with characteristic dissimulation replied, " My Lords this was not necessary ; for I have so much duty for the King, that his word is more to me than all these depositions." When later on Lord Clarendon con gratulated her on this answer and hoped there now remained no suspicions on her mind, she made him no reply ; leaving an inference that she stUl believed her father guilty of a vile plot to disinherit his own children, to deceive the nation, and possibly plunge it into civil war. Not fully realising how hard of heart, how mean of soul she was. Lord Clarendon seeing the depression and weariness of her aged father, once more begged that she would comfort him, " whereby he might see her concern for him." But Anne with an air of indifference merely replied, " That the King did not love that she should trbe Iking's "Rinbness to anne 97 meddle with anything, and that the Papists would let him do nothing." Lord Clarendon replied that the King was her father, that she knew the duty she owed him, " that she knew how very tender and kind he had been to her, and that he had never troubled her about religion." She owned that what he said was true but " she grew exceedingly uneasy at my discourse and said that she must dress herself and so I left her." The truth was that so far from troubling her about her religion, or striving to prevent her from exercising it, he allowed her to occupy " the royal closet " at Whitehall Chapel and other places of worship, which he himself would have occupied had he attended ; and gave directions that on such occasions " the three conges " paid by the officiating clergyman to the Sovereign, should be made to her. That his kindness extended to her In other ways is certain. Once when she was IU, her uncle Lord Clarendon called on her as early as four o'clock In the morning only to find her father already seated by her bedside. Moreover on coming to the throne James II. had raised her allowance to ^^32000 a year, a sum representing almost double what It does at the present day ; but either through her losses at cards, or an excessive generosity to her favourite, as has been hinted, she found this amount Incompatible with her expenditure. " It cannot be denied," wrote Roger Coke, who was connected with the Court, " that the King was a very kind parent to the Princess Anne ; he enquired into her debts at Christmas 1685, and took care to clear her of every one. Yet VOL. I. 7 98 trbe (Queen's Comrabe she made some exceedings the year after, and Lord Godolphin (the Lord Treasurer) complained and grumbled ; stiU her father paid all she owed, without a word of reproach." In a short time she was again in debt to the amount of seven thousand pounds, when she once more appealed to the King. This time he reminded her that he had made her " a noble allowance and that he had twice cheerfully paid her debts without one word of remonstrance, but that now he was convinced that she had some one about her for whose sake she plunged herself into inconveniences ; of these his paternal affection was willing once more to relieve her, but that she must observe a more exact economy for the future." Such was the affection and kindness shown to the Princess Anne by a father whom in return she sus pected of if not charged with an abominable fraud, whom she refused to comfort in his anxieties, whom she was conspiring against, and whom she was soon to desert. WiUiam and his troops landed at Torbay on November 5th, 1688, and marched to Exeter, but no one joined him on the way. The messenger he had sent to announce him was seized and imprisoned ; the city gates were closed, though the inhabitants had no ammunition for defence, and the mayor refused to acknowledge him or listen to his authority. His army became discouraged, it was rumoured he was betrayed, his officers advised him to re-embark, and after a week of disappointment, according to Sir John Dalrymple and trbe ifting's appeal to lbis 6enerals 99 Bishop Burnet, he publicly declared his resolution to permit the English nation to settle their own differences with their King, and to send him the secret correspond ence of those who had betrayed their Sovereign. But whUst hesitating regarding his return to Holland, he was unexpectedly joined by Sir Edward Seymour, once the friend and favourite of James. Some other gentlemen of the County Devon soon followed his example, and later Lord Cornbury, son of the Earl of Clarendon and nephew of the King, who commanded three regiments of His Majesty's horse, went over to William, though he could induce but sixty of his troopers to follow him. James now set out for Salisbury Plain where his army was already stationed. Before leaving the capital rumour reached him that the Duke of Grafton, Lord Churchill, and Colonel Kirke were disaffected towards him ; and Lord Feversham suggested that they should be sent to the safe keeping of the Tower, urging that from his position in the army Lord Churchill's defection in particular might have very bad consequences. But blind to the last the King could not be persuaded that they were ready to betray him. Sending for them he made a dignified appeal to their honesty saying, " If any of you is not satisfied let him declare himself. I am willing to grant passes to such as choose to join the Prince of Orange and to spare them the shame of deserting their lawful Sovereign." Their reply may be judged from the fact that Lord Churchill was given the command of a brigade and raised to the rank of loo trbe (Queen's Comrabe Lieutenant-General, whilst the other two were con tinued in their posts. James was soon at Salisbury, where at the head of an army of twenty-four thousand men, he was resolved to show himself, as he said. King of England. But betrayal and desertion soon daunted him. The first unpleasant news to reach him here, was that Lord Churchill's brother, a captain in the Navy, had joined the Dutch fleet. Soon after, under the cover of night. Lord Churchill, the Duke of Grafton, Colonel Berkeley and other officers fled to WUliam's camp, though they could take with them only a handful of men, the great body of the troops remaining loyal to their King. Struck to the heart by the desertion of those he had trusted, recognising his own fatuity, not knowing in whom to confide, and fearful of falling into the hands of his enemies, he prepared to act on the advice of his principal officers and return to London. On the evening before his departure he sat silent and melan choly at supper between his guests Prince George of Denmark, and the Duke of Ormond. Sore at heart and weak from prolonged bleeding at the nose, he ate but little and drank less, those with him seeming to share his depression. He retired early, but as he now suffered from insomnia he was glad to escape from his bed early In the morning, when he learned that the men who had broken bread with him the previous night had gone over to the enemy. On hearing of the defections that had previously taken place, the fatuous Prince George had invariably lEst il possible? loi made one remark regarding those whose example he had resolved to follow. How, est il possible ? And now on hearing of his desertion the king smiled bitterly, saying, " How ? Has est il possible gone too ? " Later in the morning two letters were brought the King, in the first of which his son-in-law, who had been educated and remained through life a sturdy Lutheran, excused himself by saying, his "just concern for the religion in which he had been so happily educated " had forced him to desert. James's sole comment was " I only mind him as connected with my dearest child, otherwise the loss of a stout trooper would have been greater." The second letter caused the King more bitter grief, far keener disappointment ; for it was written by Lord Churchill on whom he had bestowed many favours, and ran as follows — " Since men are seldom suspected of sincerity when they act contrary to their interests," it said, " and though my dutiful behaviour to your majesty in the worst of times (for which I acknowledge my poor services much overpaid) may not incline you to a charitable interpretation of my actions, yet I hope the great advantage I enjoy under your majesty, which I can never expect in any other change of government, may reasonably convince your majesty and the world, that I am actuated by a higher principle when I offer that violence to my inclination and interest as to desert your majesty at a time when your affairs seem to challenge the strictest obedience from all your subjects, io2 trbe (Slueen's domrab^ much more from one who lies under the greatest obli gation to your majesty. " This sir could proceed from nothing but the inviolable dictates of my conscience, and a necessary concern for my reUgioh (which no good man can oppose) and with which I am instructed nothing can come in competition. Heaven knows with what partiality my dutiful opinion of your majesty has hitherto represented those unhappy designs which in considerate and self-interested men have framed against your majesty's true ^interest and the Protestant religion ; but as I can no longer join with such to give a pretence by conquest to bring them to effect, so I will always with the hazard of my life and fortune (so much your majesty's due) endeavour to preserve your royal person and lawful rights with all the tender concern and dutiful respects that becomes " etc. On his way to London, James heard of further desertions of his officers whom their men refused to follow ; but it was not until he reached the capital that the crowning blow was given him, when he found that his daughter Anne, to whom he had looked for sympathy in this hour of his need, had fled to join his enemies ; on which he had exclaimed in despair, " God help me my own children have forsaken me in my misfortunes." During the King's absence from the capital Lord Clarendon had remained behind, but since news came to him that his son Lord Cornbury had gone over to William, he had in grief and pain kept in retirement. But one day when Anne met Ipirince of Denmark's Desertion 103 him, she wondered why he had not been to see her lately, on which he told her that " he was so much concerned for the villany his son had committed, that he was ashamed of being seen anywhere." When with the air of one who knew more than she admitted, the Princess answered, " Oh, people are so apprehensive of popery that you will find many more of the army will do the same." For it had been already planned between her and her husband that he who had left London in the company of the King, and presumably to help him, was to desert at the first convenient opportunity, as wIU be seen from the following letter written by her to WilUam and dated November 1 8 th, 1688. " Having on all occasions given you and my sister all imaginable assurances of the real friendship and kindness I have for you both, I hope it is not necessary for me to repeat anything of that kind, and on the subject you have now wrote to me, I shaU not trouble you with many compliments, and in short to assure you that you have my wishes for your good success in this so just an undertaking ; and I hope the Prince [her husband] will soon be with you to let you see his readiness to join with you, also I am sure wiU do you all the service that lies in his power. He went yesterday with the King towards Salisbury, intending to go from thence to you as soon as his friends thought proper. " I am not yet certain if I shaU continue here or 104 trbe (Queen's Comrabe remove into the City : that shall depend upon the advice my friends will give me, but wherever I am, I shall always be ready to show you how much I am your humble servant "Anne." When on the morning succeeding her flight, Anne's room was found empty, her women raised a terrible commotion, running backwards and forwards crying out that the Papists had murdered the Princess, and pushing their violent way into the Queen's apartments, demanded what had been done with their mistress. Their screams and lamentations drew round the Cock pit a surly crowd through which all kinds of terrible rumours spread, and so successfully had Anne's house hold worked on the worst passions of the mob, that they threatened to pull the palace down and tear the Queen to pieces if she did not give up the Princess. But before they set about wreaking vengeance, news came that a letter had been found on the toilet of the Princess who had gone to Nottingham. The letter which was addressed to the Queen, was never seen by her Majesty or the King, though it was published in the Gazette of the following day by Anne's partisans, who little thought that her communication to William expressing her real sentiments, would one day be given to the world, and establish the falsehood of the writer. This letter, headed " The Princess Anne of Denmark to the Queen of James II. Found at the Cockpit November 26th " ran as follows : anne's Xetter to tbe (Jiueen 105 " Madam " I beg your pardon if I am so deeply affected with the surprising news of the prince's (George of Denmark) being gone, as not to be able to see you, but to leave this paper to express my humble duty to the King and yourself, and to let you know that I am gone to absent myself, to avoid the King's displeasure which I am not able to bear, either against the Prince or myself, and I shall stay at so great a distance, as not to return till I hear the happy news of a reconcilement ; and as I am confident the Prince did not leave the King with any other design than to use all possible means for his preservation, so I hope you wiU do me the justice to believe that I am uncapable of following him for any other end. Never was any one in such an un happy condition, so divided between duty to a father and a husband, and therefore I know not what I must do, but to follow one to preserve the other." The final paragraph in this hypocritical letter con tains a pious prayer intended for the public eye : " God grant an happy end," it says, " to these troubles, and that the King's reign may be prosperous, and that I may shortly meet you in perfect peace and safety, till when let me beg of you to continue the same favourable opinion that you have hitherto had of your most obedient daughter and servant Anne." There is little doubt that the flight from the Cockpit was arranged by Lady ChurchiU, for timid and weak, Anne would never have taken such a step on her own initiative. And though she had nothing to fear io6 trbe (Siueen's Comrabe from the King, Sarah had much ; for on the desertion of her husband, James had given orders that she should be confined to her sister's rooms in St. James's Palace, and her house at St. Albans searched ; news of which had probably reached and enabled her to escape before she could be put under lock and key. But though the plan was arranged by her, she was aided by James's bitter enemy Henry Compton Bishop of London, who has been accused of conspiring to seize the King and deliver him to WiUiam. Later in life Lady ChurchiU " thought it necessary " to give her own account of this flight, and begins by saying " it was a thing sudden and unconcerted," which we know from Anne's letter to be absolutely false. Her next statement is probably quite as un reliable : " Nor had I any share in it farther than obeying my mistress's orders ; though indeed I had reason enough on my own account to get out of the way. Lord ChurchiU having at that time left the King and gone over to the other party." According to this account Anne having heard that her husband had joined the Prince of Orange and that the King was returning to London, immediately sent for her favourite and in great distress declared that rather than see her father she would jump out of the window. " A little before," continues Lady ChurchiU, "a note had been left with me to inform me where I might find the Bishop of London (who in that critical time absconded) if her royal highness should have occasion for a friend. The Princess on jfligbt of anne 107 this alarm immediately sent me to the bishop. I acquainted him with her resolution to leave the court and to put herself under his care. It was hereupon agreed that when he had advised with his friends in the city, he should come about midnight in a hackney coach to the neighbourhood of the Cockpit, in order to convey the Princess to some place where she might be private and safe." All arrangements being made, the Princess to avoid all suspicion of her intended flight, retired at the same time as usual ; but instead of going to bed she waited for a signal given near midnight, when accompanied by Lady Churchill and Lady FItzhardIng, she stole down a back stairs, left the palace and found a coach waiting for her, together with the Bishop of London and Lord Dorset. The escapade had for Anne something of the excitement and pleasure of an elopement. The fact of her high-heeled shoe sticking in the mud caused much merriment, and Lord Dorset's puUing off his leather gauntletted glove and begging her to slip her foot into it as he half carried her to the coach, gave him the air of a second-hand Raleigh. She was in such mirth that none who heard or saw could think there was a possibility of her father losing his crown, or of the nation being in a state of civil war. With light hearts the party drove to the bishop's residence in Aldersgate Street, where Anne was amply refreshed by a substantial supper, and early next morning they were on their way to Copt HaU, Lord Dorset's place in Waltham forest. loS trbe dueen's Comrabe In this manner did the Princess Anne, who having done nothing to incur her father's anger, had nothing to fear from him, desert the unfortunate man in his hour of bitter need, that she might swell the ranks of those who had betrayed him, and whom it is probable her weak nature obeyed in joining them. From Copt Hall she set out for Northampton, stUl conducted by the bishop. From the fact of his absconding in the day of danger, it might not have been supposed he was a valiant man : but he was now ready to prove himself such when distance from London put fear far behind. Broad shoiddered, rubicund, and burly, his appearance spoke of his former mUitary caUing, for in the days of his youth he had been a gay cornet of dragoons ; and now with a militant air and rotund figure he rode before the fugitive Princess, a drawn sword in his hand and pistols in his saddle bow, ready to defend her with his Ufe from the enemies who never approached. EventuaUy Anne and her friends reached Nottingham after a journey lamentably devoid of sensation, and were welcomed by a crowd of her father's enemies, aU jubilant with success. On the first night of her arrival the Earl of Devonshire entertained her at a great supper where, amidst quaffing of wine and consequent laughter, Anne found herself the subject of a hundred congratiUations the object of innumerable toasts. Some interesting detaUs of her movements at a time when according to her letter she had joined her husband to use all possible means for the preservation of her trbe lEarl of Cbesterfielb 109 father, are given in the Memoirs of Philip, second Earl of Chesterfield, a polished gallant of Charles's Court, who had known Anne from her childhood, who had reason to dislike James in his early and amorous days, and who had been brought up in the companionship of WiUiam to whom the Earl's mother was governess. The Princess Anne, he says, " came to Nottingham pretending that her father the King did persecute and use her ill for her religion, she being a Protestant and he a Papist. As soon as I heard of her coming with a smaU retinue to Nottingham, I went thither with my Lord Ferrers and several gentlemen my neighbours, to offer her my services. The Princess seemed to be well pleased : she told me that she intended to go to Warwick, but she apprehended that Lord Mullinux who was a Papist and then in arms, would attack her on her journey. I assured her highness that I would wait upon her till she was in a state of safety." He then hastened away to raise troops to guard her, returning in a couple of days, when Anne told him there were so many disputes and quarrels among the young nobility who had gathered to protect her, that she had appointed a councU to discuss precedence and had named him a member. But on this Chesterfield bluntly 'told her " that I was come on purpose to defend her person in a time of tumult, with my life against any that should dare to attack her, but that as to her council, I did beg her pardon for desiring to be excused from it, for I had the honour to be a privy councillor to his majesty her father, therefore. IIO trbe CJueen's Comrabe I would be of no council for the ordering of troops which I did perceive were intended to serve against him. I found that her highness and some of the noblemen round her were highly displeased with my answer, which they called a ' tacit upbraiding them and the Princess with rebellion.' " Chesterfield was to see more of their designs which he liked less. According to promise he attended Anne who was now surrounded by a great cavalcade, and felt herself as a persecuted Princess, a person of vast importance to the youthful eyes around her. One morning Lord Chesterfield waited on her when he found her apartments crowded with noblemen and gentlemen all anxious to sacrifice themselves for her sake. In the midst of them was the sturdy Bishop of London, who calling the Earl by his name, said the Princess desired him and others to meet at four o'clock the same afternoon " to do something which was for her service." Chesterfield resented being publicly caUed on by the Bishop in this summary manner, "upon which," he says, "Lord Devonshire who stood by observed ' that he thought Lord Chesterfield had been previously acquainted, that the purpose of the Princess was to have an association entered into to destroy all the Papists in England in case the Prince of Orange should be killed or murthered by any of them.' " Whether Anne intended that her father and her step mother were to be amongst these victims, record does not say ; Chesterfield stoutly refused to sign the paper pledging himself to this project which had already been trbe (Slueen goes into Ejile m drawn up by the bloodthirsty Henry Compton Bishop of London ; and the Earl's example being foUowed by Lords Ferrers and Cullen and above a hundred other gentlemen, Anne became extremely angry with him. Whilst the Princess was surrounded by this joyous company, her father remained in the midst of the confusion and consternation surging through the capital. Every hour brought him news of fresh de sertions, and unexpected betrayals, until it seemed that a general confederacy against him had spread aU over the land. Acting on advice, he condescended to treat with the Prince of Orange, and unfortunate in all things, selected for that purpose three peers who were secretly concerned in the conspiracy against himself. When after many humiliating subterfuges and heart breaking suspense he learned that his proposals were referred for arbitration to his avowed enemies, he knew that all hope was at an end. Added to the miseries of seeing his kingdom tumble around him, was the terror which the Queen felt for the safety of their infant son ; for she had no hope of mercy for the Prince of Wales, from those who had betrayed the King. James therefore decided to send his wife and son abroad, and on December 9th, a night of storm and rain, the Queen with her baby, then six months old, clasped to her breast, sat in the stern of an open boat, that leaving Whitehall crossed to the opposite bank, whilst the King strove to watch through the darkness or hear above the storm the forms or voices of those dearer to him than life, and whom he believed it 112 trbe (Queen's Comrabe possible he might never see again. Accompanied by a nurse and a single attendant the Count de Lauzun, the Queen on landing at the Soutbwark side of the river, was driven in a coach to Gravesend where she got on board a yacht that eventually landed her at Calais. With both his sons-in-law in arms against him, deserted by the Princess Anne, betrayed by his councillors, forsaken by those he had considered his loyal subjects and best friends, not knowing whom he could trust, it was no wonder that the King despaired. " If I could have relied on aU my troops," he wrote to Lord Feversham, " I might not have been put to the extremity I am in, and would at least have had one blow for it ; but though I know there are amongst you very many loyal and brave men, both officers and soldiers, yet you know that both yourself and several of the general officers and others of the army told me it was noways advisable for me to venture myself at their head, or think to fight the Prince of Orange with them." And the truth was, that the spectre of his father dying on a scaffold surrounded by unpltying subjects, was for ever before him ; and he had no doubt a similar fate would befall himself if he continued within reach of his son-in-law's power. After many bitter humiliations his spirit broke, and bent upon his own downfall, at a moment when the reaction in his favour was visible, he resolved to take refuge in France. On the last night he spent in England, whilst under the roof of Sir Richard Head at Rochester, Viscount '4/7Zl_ JAMES II. /\ll,'t' 112.] jfligbt of tbe IRing 113 Dundee one of the few peers who remained faithful, said to him " The question sir Is whether you shall stay In England or fly to France ? Whether you shall trust the returning zeal of your native subjects or rely on a foreign power.'' Here you ought to stand. Keep possession of a part and the whole will submit by degrees. Resume the spirit of a King, Summon your subjects on their allegiance. Your army though dis banded Is not dispersed. Give me your commission and I will gather ten thousand of your troops. I will carry your standard at their head through England and drive before you the Dutch and their Prince." In reply the King said he believed this might be done but that it would raise a civil war, and he would not do so much mischief to a nation which would soon come to its senses again. And obstinate to the last he persisted in his flight. At midnight, attended by his son the Duke of Berwick, he went out of the back door, got into a boat, and was rowed to a smack that lay outside the fort of Sheerness. In due time he landed in France and joined the Queen at St. Germains, leaving the distracted kingdom in the hands of a foreign invader. WilUam entered London without pomp or parade in " a coach and four with a cloak bag tied behind it " ; and on December 19th, 1688, the Princess Anne and Lady ChurchiU returned to the Cockpit jubilant at the part they had played, when to show their satisfaction at James's downfall and WiUiam's victory they went in state to the playhouse decked out in orange-coloured VOL. I. 8 "4 trbe Queen's Comrabe ribands. Some weeks later when Lord Clarendon found an opportunity he " took the liberty to teU her that many people were extremely troubled to find that she seemed no more concerned for her father's mis fortunes. It was noticed that when the news came of his final departure from the country, she was not the least moved, but called for cards and was as merry as she used to be." At this Anne flared up, immediately teUing her uncle that those who made such reflections on her conduct did her wrong, but admitted it was true she had caUed for cards because it was her custom to play, and that " she never loved to do anything that looked Uke an affected restraint." " And does your Royal Highness," quiedy asked Lord Clarendon, "think that showing some trouble for the King your father's misfortunes, could be interpreted as an affected restraint ? I am afraid," said he, " such behaviour lessens you much more in the opinion of the world and even in that of your father's enemies, than you ought to be." He adds significantly, " But with all this she was not one jot moved." Though it had not been the intention of the majority of those who invited the Prince of Orange to England, or who had joined his cause, to place him on the throne, he began to act with the authority of a King ; a position which the public were soon to know he intended to grasp. For at first it was decided to establish a Regency as the only means of excluding James without infringing on the rights of succession. When in January, 1689, Desire for a "Kegencg us before the form of Government could be settled, both Houses paid William the highest compliment ever paid to a King, of waiting on him, and requested him to continue the administration, he received them with a coldness and reserve that betrayed his disappointment. It was only next day that he gave them his answer which partook, says Macpherson, "more of the dIsobUging dryness of his manner than the warm gratitude which they had some reason to expect," and accepted their offer. Debates followed in a divided Parliament regarding the government of the nation, many desiring a Regency, but as this was not carried a proposal was made to place the Princess Mary on the throne, which as Sir John Dalrymple says " gnawed into the very heart of WiUiam." According to another authority, John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, the Prince's behaviour was at this time very mysterious. " He stayed at St. James's Palace. He went very little abroad. Access to him was not very easy. He listened to all that was said but seldom answered. This reservedness continued several weeks. Nobody could tell what he desired." If they could not teU he was soon to let them know, for In the midst of his suUenness William suddenly sent for the peers who were actively engaged in the scheme for placing Mary on the throne, and with his keen determined eyes fixed on them, he told them he had heard that some were for placing the Government in the hands of a Regency but he assured ii6 trbe Queen's Comrabe them he would not be that Regent ; and that others were inclined to place his wife upon the throne con ferring on him the courtesy title of King ; but although he esteemed the Princess, he was determined not to owe that favour to her. He insinuated that he expected the Crown would be settled on him for life, and if they did not agree with that opinion, he would not oppose them, but would return to Holland and interfere no more with their affairs. Had Mary come to England and claimed the throne to the exclusion of her husband, there can be no doubt of the result ; but lest her presence might influence those in her favour, and thwart her husband's designs, he kept her safely in HoUand. Aware of this. Lord Danby secretly wrote to acquaint her with the desires of Parliament, adding that if she wished to reign alone, he had no doubt her wishes would be obeyed ; to which Mary, who had become utterly subservient to her husband's wiU, replied that she " was the wife of WiUiam Prince of Orange and would never be any other thing than what she could share in conjunction with him ; and that she should take it very ill if under pretext of a concern for her, any faction should set up a divided interest between her and her husband," and by way of showing her gratitude to Lord Danby for his concern in her interests, she forwarded his private letters to her husband. The truth was that three years previously in the presence of Bishop Burnet, the historian, Mary had promised William that he should always rule in case trbe flew Iking anb Queen n? she came to the throne. " But," comments the bishop, " such was the disposition of the Prince of Orange, that he said not one word in approbation of her conduct." In his disappointment and bitterness William com plained to the first Marquis of Halifax, as is recorded in the Spencer House Journals, that " the Commons had used him Uke a dog," and declared " hee would not stay in England if King James came again." But this was probably said in a moment of irritation, for he was determined to be king, and as ambition Is generally the forerunner of success, he eventually gained his way, which was made clear for him by Mary's decision, by the need of an immediate settlement, and by the fear that if disappointed In his desires WilUam — whose foreign soldiers to the number of fourteen thousand held the capital — would forcibly seize the throne. It was therefore formally agreed by Parliament that the Prince and Princess of Orange should be declared King and Queen of England. But a new difficulty now arose as to whether Parlia ment had the power to give the crown for life to WUliam without Anne's consenting to set aside her rights ; a difficulty eagerly seized by her father's friends — now called Jacobites — to thwart the ambitions of the Prince. After listening by turns to the arguments of rival parties, and indulging in a hesitation which tortured William, she agreed to withdraw her claims to the sovereignty in favour of her brother-in-law ; stipulating at the same time that a handsome revenue ii8 trbe Queen's Comrabe should be settled on her which would enable her to support her dignity as next heir to the crown. No doubt remains that this decision was due to the influence of Lady ChurchiU, who from this time forward began to take an active part In political movements. Her own words in reference to Aime's resolution are fuU of that characteristic spirit which had begun to rule her weaker mistress. " This was another event which furnished simple people with a pretence to censure me " she writes. " It was insinuated that to make my court to the King and Queen I had influenced the Princess to forego her undoubted rights. The truth is I did persuade her to consent to the project of that settlement, and to be easy imder it after it was made. But no regard to the King and Queen, nor any view of ambition, had the least share in moving me to this conduct, any more than to what inconsiderable part I acted in the business of the Revolution." Writing many years later when the impression of events had become duUed by time and coloured by circumstances, she declares that she was "so very simple a creature " — a character none but herself would ever dream of giving her — that she never imagined that WiUiam, at the time of this invasion, intended to claim the throne. " Having never read, nor employed my time in anything but playing cards, and having no ambition myself," says she, "I imagined that the Prince of Orange's sole design was to provide for the safety of his own country, by obliging King James to Xabs Cburcbill's "account" 119 keep the laws of ours ; and that he would go back as soon as he had made us aU happy ; and that there was no sort of difficulty in the execution of this design ; and that to do so much good would be a greater pleasure to him than to be King of any country upon earth. I was soon taught to know the world better." This idea was no doubt shared by her husband amongst others, for at first he had voted for a Regency and later when ParUament was forced to offer the crown to WiUiam, had absented himself from the House of Lords together with other peers who were unwiUing to Infringe on hereditary rights ; though owing to their absence WiUiam was elected King by a majority of seven votes. Lady Churchill in her "Account of her Conduct" goes on to say that she did not regret the change in government ; adding " I might perhaps wish it had been compassed by some other man who had more honour and justice than he, who could depose his father-in-law and uncle to maintain liberty and laws, and then act the tyrant himself in many instances. And as to giving King William the crown for life, it was the same principle of regard for the public welfare that carried me to advise the Princess to acquiesce in it. It is true that when the thing was first started I did not see any necessity for such a measure ; and I thought it so unreasonable that I took a great deal of pains (which I believe the King and Queen never forgot) to promote my mistress's pre tensions. But I quickly found that aU endeavours of 120 trbe Queen's Comrabe that kind would be ineffectual ; that all the principal men except the Jacobites were for the King, and that the settlement would be carried in ParUament whether the Princess consented to it or not. So that in reaUty there was nothing advisable but to yield with a good grace. " I confess had I been in her place, I should have thought it more for my honour to be easy in this matter than to show an impatience to get possession of a crown that had been wrested from my father. And as it ought to have been a great trouble to the chUdren of King James to be forced to act the part they did against him, even for the security and Uberty of reUgion (which was truly the case) so it seemed to me, that she who discovered the less ambition, would have the more amiable character. However as I was fearful about everything the Princess did, whUe she was thought to be advised by me, I could not satisfy my own mind tiU I had consulted with several persons of undisputed wisdom and integrity." Chief amongst those whose opinion she sought was Dr. TiUotson, soon afterwards made Archbishop of Canterbury, who with others thought that as things were then situated, Anne had better waive her claims. Lady ChurchiU brought Dr. Tillotson to see the Princess, whose advice being the same as that of her favourite, was accepted. " This is the true account of my proceeding in that affiair," she says, " and I believe that some events which then foUowed it, and which in part occasioned the /IBars lanbs in lEnglanb 121 memorable quarrel between the two sisters, will sufficiently clear me from all suspicion of intending an interested base courtship to that reign, in violation of the attachment I owed to the Princess." On February 6th, 1689, the Prince and Princess of Orange were declared King and Queen, the full regal power being invested in WiUiam, whilst Anne and her heirs were named successors to the throne in preference to the heirs WiUiam might have by any other marriage, Mary being childless. When this was settled the winds which had kept Mary in Holland, graciously changed their course and permitted her to come to England, and land at Whitehall steps on February I2th, 1689. Lord Churchill's services to the new monarch were rewarded when on February 6th, he was sworn a member of the Privy Council and made a Lord of the Bed chamber to the King ; and on April 9th created Earl of Marlborough. More substantial favours followed when he was made a colonel of a troop of Life Guards, appointed a Lieutenant-General, and authorised to reconstruct the Army ; posts that in days when com missions were bought and sold, brought him says a contemporary writer, a vast harvest, so that a great noise was made at his wealth, by those who were less fortunate than himself. CHAPTER V Queen Mary as a Child — Her Husband's Intrigue with Elizabeth Villiers — He neglects His Wife — No Place of Worship provided for Her — The Prince of Orange kicks the Communion Table — Depressing Life at Holland — Visit of the Duchess of York and the Princess Anne — The Princess of Orange and Lady Marlborough — Mary's Chaplain is horribly unsatisfied — The Purloined Letter — William reads Unpleasant Things of Himself — An Insolent Book — The French Ambassador's Picture of the Orange Court — William's Brutalities — Mary's Conduct on reaching Whitehall — Opinions of Eye Witnesses — Extracts from Her Private Journals — Disagreements of the Royal Sisters — Anne's Mortifications — The Question of Settle ments — William's Hatred of Anne — The Duke of Gloucester is born — Lady Marlborough will not be persuaded — William's Treatment of Lord Marl borough — His Dissatisfaction with the King — The Princess's Gift — Their Majesties are wrathful. CHAPTER V IN her early days Mary Princess of Orange and afterwards Queen of England had been a bright engaging child, the delight of her father who was passionately fond of her and for whom she had the deepest affection. Her naturally quick mind scarcely received the training it deserved, for the preceptor of her sister and herself was a man of little education and much pretension, Henry Compton, an officer who foreseeing quicker advancement in the Church than in the Army, left the one for the other, and being a son of the Earl of Northampton was appointed through famUy influence Bishop of London. However her talents for art were not neglected ; for she was taught drawing and painting by two clever and delightful little dwarfs who figured at the Court of King Charles, and were known as Master and Mistress Gibson ; whilst Mrs. Betterton the famous actress had instructed her in elocution. At the age of twelve Mary had delighted her uncle the Merry Monarch by her performance in " Calisto the Chaste Nymph," written for the occasion by the Court 125 126 trbe Queen's Comrabe poet Crowne, and the caste of which included besides herself, many who rose to importance, such as her sister Anne who figured as the chaste nymph, Sarah Jennings who represented Mercury, the Duke of Monmouth who danced to perfection, together with Margaret Blagge who afterwards became wife of Lord Godolphin a prominent statesman and courtier in the reigns of the royal sisters. At the time of her marriage which took place when she was about fifteen, Mary was considered extremely handsome, for her figure was tall and gracefld Uke the Stuarts, and her face, beautiful in outline was Ut by soft dark almond-shaped eyes capable of infinite expression, though in later years they invariably showed the brooding melancholy of a crushed spirit — a starved soul. Joyous and bright before the marriage from which she had intuitively shrunk, devoted to her father, her stepmother, and her sister, she left England to suffer experiences that changed her whole nature. The first of these, and perhaps the most painful, was to find that the husband who showed her such indifference if not aversion, was even in the early days of his honeymoon devoting himself to the daughters of her former governess who accompanied her to HoUand as Maids of Honour, Anne and Elizabeth ViUiers, the latter of whom on the evidence of innumerable and incontestible corres pondents, soon became his mistress. So scandalous an intrigue at so early a stage in her married Ufe must not have only shocked the bride iEli3abetb IDilliers 127 of fifteen, but have sorely wounded her vanity ; for Elizabeth ViUiers — who held a great though by no means single influence over WiUiam to the end of his days — was decidedly plain and " squinted like a dragon." Before her marriage it had been stipulated by King Charles, and agreed to by WiUiam, that Mary should have a chapel for the services of her reUgion, WiUiam being a foUower of Calvin in which doctrine of election he found comfort. But on her settling in Holland this was completely disregarded, and Dr. Lloyd, one of the chaplains who had accompanied her, was recalled in anger by the Primate of England and censured for having sanctioned her attendance at a congregation of Dutch dissenters. His place was supplied by Dr. Hooper an upright and conscientious man who on his arrival in HoUand found the apartments allotted to Mary's use so limited, that there was no place where divine service could be held save the dining-room, which " as the Prince and Princess never ate together she was quite willing should be converted into a chapel," cheerfully agreeing, as is stated in the Hooper Manuscripts, to eat her solitary dinner every day in a smaU and very dark parlour. When the necessary changes were made in the dining-room, Mary, fearing her husband's wrath, asked Dr. Hooper to be present when the Prince came to see what had been done. The clergyman was in attend ance and WUliam kept his appointment. The first thing noticed by the Prince was that the communion 128 zbc Queen's Comrabe table was raised two steps and that the Princess's chair was on the same dais ; on which the man who was afterwards hailed by the EngUsh nation as the vaUant defender of the Protestant faith, " bestowing on each a contemptuous kick, asked what they were for. ^Vhen he was told their use he answered with an emphatic Humph." He never went near the chapel afterwards save once or twice on Sunday evenings, but he gave his wife books and tracts written by Dutch dissenters, which Dr. Hooper took from her, supplying in their stead theological works written by those of his own faith, much to the displeasure of WUUam, who henceforth showed him bitter animosity. The chief recreation of the neglected Princess lay in gliding in her barge down the StiU, monotonous canals that intersect the flat un interesting country, or in saUing over the sUent broads and lakes, always guarded by her Maids of Honour and Ladies in Waiting, one of whom, Anne ViUiers lately married to WiUiam's favourite, Bentinck, caused her much misery. It was no wonder the poor Princess feU sick, at first from a bUious fever, afterwards from ague given her by the mists and fogs that through winter hung above the melancholy land. On hearing of her illness her father sent his wife the Duchess of York and the Princess Anne to visit and cheer her, when " the caresses she lavished on the Lady Anne amounted to transport " ; whUst her affection for her stepmother was scarcely less intense. Later on when James and his famUy visited anne's Defence of !lLabs Cburcbili 129 her on his way from Brussels to Scotland, their meeting " was full of the tenderest condolences " on his banish ment from England, and her love for the Queen and for Anne was fresh in her heart as of old. But she exhibited little friendliness towards Lady ChurchiU, who with her husband were members of the royal suite ; for at this time some unexplained antipathy arose between them, to which the Princess gave some expression in writing to Anne after their departure. As may be imagined the latter immediately undertook the defence of her friend. " Sorry people have taken such pains to give so iU a character of Lady Churchill," she says ; "I believe there is nobody in the world has better notions of religion than she has. It is true she is not so strict as some are, nor does not keep such a bustle with religion ; which I confess I think is never the worse ; for one sees so many saints mere devUs, that if one be a good Christian, the less show one makes, it is the better, in my opinion. Then as for moral principles, it is impossible to have better ; and without that all the lifting up of hands and eyes, and going often to Church, wiU prove but a very lame devotion. " One thing more I must say for her," she continues in defence of her favourite, " which Is that she has a true sense of the doctrine of our Church, and abhors aU the principles of the Church of Rome ; so that as to this particular I assure you she wiU never change. The same thing I will venture, now I am on this subject, to say for her lord ; for though he is a very faithful servant to the King, and that King is very kind VOL. I. 9 130 trbe Queen's Comrabe to him, and I beUeve he wiU always obey the King in aU things that are consistent with religion, yet rather than change that, I dare say he wUl lose aU his places and all that he has." A reversal of judgment, remarkably prompt and unaided by personal experience, quickly foUowed in favour of Anne's friend ; from which it may be surmised that WiUiam's eagle eye foreseeing Lady ChurchiU's influence over Anne, and anxious to use it for his own purposes, had commanded his wife to conciUate the favourite. At aU events the compliant Princess of Orange wrote the foUowing letter to Lady ChurchUl. " Dr. Stanley's going to England is too good an opportunity for me to lose of assuring Lady ChurchiU she cannot give me greater satisfaction than in letting me know the firm resolution both Lord ChurchiU and you have taken never to be wanting in what you owe to your ReUgion. Such a generous resolution I am sure must make you deserve the esteem of aU good people, and my sisters in particular. I need say nothing of mine, you have it upon a double account as my sister's friend, besides what I have said already, and you may be assured that I shaU always be glad of an occasion to show it both to your lord and you. " I have nothing more to add ; for your friendship makes my sister as dear to you as to me, and I am persuaded we shaU ever agree in our care of her, as I beUeve she and I should in our kindness for you, were we near enough to renew our acquaintance." /ftars's Duplicity 131 This letter as well as the foUowing note are interesting as showing Mary's hereditary duplicity ; for at this time she felt the distrust and disUke to Lady ChurchiU which she was soon to show the favourite when her influence over Anne was no longer needed. "If it were as easy for me to write to my Lady ChurchiU as it is hard to find a safe hand, she might justly wonder at my long silence, but I hope she does me more justice than to think it my fault. I have little to say at present, but that I hope my sister and you wiU never part. I send you here one (letter) for her, and have not any more time now than only to assure you that I shaU never forget the kindness you shewed to her who is so dear to me. That and all the good I have heard of you will make me ever your affectionate friend which I shaU be ready to shew otherwise than by words when I have the opportunity." In June, 1688, Mary removed to Dieren, a hunting place belonging to her husband. It was here that the latter was visited by his friend and agent Henry Sidney, afterwards Earl of Romney, a singularly handsome and unprincipled man who has been described as " the great wheel on which the revolution turned and also as the terror of husbands." It is only fair to say that one exception must be made to this sweeping statement ; for his uncle Lord Sunderland, who was but a k'w months older than Sidney, looked with philosophic calm on the long-continued and scarcely concealed intimacy carried on between his wife and his nephew, and made use of their cipher correspondence to 132 trbe Queen's Comrabe carry on the conspiracy which placed WiUiam on the throne. At this visit Henry Sidney brought news of the so-called Popish plot concocted by Titus Oates, after wards pensioned by William for this service rendered him. In the diaries and letters left by Sidney, he states that he found WUliam at Dieren " in an ill house but a fine country. The Prince," he says, " took me up to his bedchamber where he asked me questions and I informed him of everything much to his satisfaction." Later he writes with much satisfaction to himself, " The Princess's maids are a great comfort to me ; on Sunday they invited me to dinner. Pray let Mrs. Frazer know that the maids of the Princess of Orange entertain foreign ministers, which is more I think than any of the Queen's do." If he were aware of the fact he did not mention it, that the economical WUliam permitted this extravagance that these brazen damsels might at his suggestion, worm state secrets from the amorous ministers they entertained. A further light is thrown on the Dutch Court by Sidney, who was unlikely to say anything of his employer which was not justified. In his journal dated March 2 ist, 1680, he writes : " Dr. Ken was with me ; he is horribly unsatisfied with the Prince of Orange ; he thinks he is not kind to his wife and he is determined to speak to him about it even if he kicks him out of doors." And a month later another entry appears to the same effect : "Sir Gaboriel Sylvius and Dr. Ken were both here, and both Dr. Iften 133 complain of the Prince, especially of his usage of his wife ; they think she is sensible of it and that it doth greatly contribute to her Illness ; they are mightily for her going to England, but they think he will not consent." Dr. Ken was the new chaplain who succeeded Dr. Hooper, when the latter being no longer able to endure William's insolence returned to England. The new almoner was if possible more strenuous in guarding Mary against Dutch dissent ; and for this as well as for persuading the Prince's friend Count Zulestein to marry Mary Worth whom he had compromised, William was so bitterly enraged against him that Dr. Ken wished to leave. The tears and entreaties of the Princess alone induced him to remain for a short time. But his endurance was limited and he was soon back in England where he was made Bishop of Bath and Wells. His- place was taken by Dr. CoveU who was soon to become even more objectionable to William ; for whilst the Court was at Dieren In the autumn of 1685, the Prince purloined a private letter written by Dr. CoveU to Skelton, the English envoy at The Hague, which threw him into a violent passion, as may readily be imagined from the following extracts of this com munication. " Your honour may be astonished at the news, " began the chaplain, " but it is too true that the Princess's heart is like to break ; and yet she, every day, with Mistress Jesson and Madam Zulestein counterfeits the greatest joy, and looks upon us as dogged as may be. We dare 134 trbe Queen's Comrabe no more speak to her. The Prince hath infallibly made her his absolute slave, and there is an end of it. . . . None but pimps and bawds must expect any tolerable usage here." The writer of the letter was instantly dismissed ' without any further chastisement because of his profession," as were also the English suite of the Princess, save such members of it as were distinguished by William's amours. Amongst those sent away were Mr. and Mrs. Langford, the former an under-chaplain, the latter Mary's old and devoted nurse, together with Anne Trelawney her former playfellow, and her present close companion whom she loved better than any one in the world. This parting from dear friends caused her agonies of grief, which with all her restraint she was powerless to hide from the prying and triumphant eyes of her husband's mistresses who scarcely left her a moment. The Princess however was fated to bear further harsh usage from her villainous little husband. It wiU be remembered that because Charles and James visited the Tower on the morning Lord Essex committed suicide there, they were accused of his murder. At The Hague the infamy of the crime was laid solely on James. The French ambassador, the Marquis d'Avaux, writing to his royal master on the subject says — " They have printed an insolent book against the Duke of York in Holland, whom they accuse of cutting the throat of the Earl of Essex. The English envoy Chudleigh remonstrated, but It had no other tciilliam's ©utrageous Conbuct 13s effect than exciting Jurieu to present this book publicly to the Prince of Orange as his own work ; but the worst of all was, that after this outrage on her father, the Princess of Orange was forced by her husband, to go to hear Jurieu preach a political sermon. Chudleigh the English envoy remonstrated so earnestly on the calumnies of Jurieu and the conduct of the Prince, that he was no longer invited to The Hague. " A few days afterwards the Princess was sitting in her solitary chamber, on the anniversary of the death of her grandfather Charles I. She had assumed a habit of deep mourning and meant to devote the whole of the day to fasting and prayer, as was her family custom when domesticated with her father and mother. Her meals were always lonely, and on this anniversary she supposed that she might fast without interruption. The Prince of Orange came unexpectedly into her apartment, and looking at her mourning habit, scorn fully bade her in an Imperious tone ' Go change it for the gayest dress she had.' The Princess was obliged to obey. He then told her he meant she should dine in public. The Princess saw all the dishes of a State dinner successively presented to her, but dismissed them one after the other and ate nothing. In the evening the Prince of Orange commanded her to accompany him to the comedy, where he had not been for several months, and which he had ordered on purpose. At this new outrage to her feelings the Princess burst into tears and in vain entreated him to spare her and excuse her compliance." 136 trbe Queen's Comrabe By brutaUties such as these whatever spirit Mary had was graduaUy broken, until she obeyed her husband's commands without protest. One of these, as already stated, was to entertain her father's enemy the Duke of Monmouth, whose gay disposition was not Ukely to tolerate the usual dulness of the Dutch Court. How blessed must have been the change to her, when escaping from the " troop of Dutch fiUes de chambre of whom a detachment every day mount guard on her, and have orders never to leave her," she found herself hanging on the arm of the gracious and handsome Duke as they promenaded the MaU, or saw him seated at the table where she usuaUy dined in solitude, or gave him her hand as she stepped from her coach. On the authority of d'Avaux, WUUam is said to have suffered a " gaUantry which aU the world noticed between his wife and the Duke " ; and Mary's friend and correspon dent, the Duchess of Orleans, infers that the Princess had a tenderness for Monmouth. However that may be she never forgave her father for having executed the Duke ; an action forced on the King for the preservation of peace in the kingdom, but which prepared Mary's mind to receive the calumnies regarding His Majesty which her husband persistently forced on her. But with that suppression of emotion taught her by years of loneUness and lack of sympathy, she concealed her feelings and seemed as affectionate as usual to the father who trusted in and was crueUy deceived by her. On arriving in England Queen Mary took possession of her father's palace and of his very apartments " with atwrs's Xevity 137 an air of levity and unconcern that gave great offence to her best friends," as Macpherson writes, a statement borne out by her friend and sycophant Bishop Burnet : but Lady Marlborough gives a more detaUed account of the manner in which Her Majesty took possession. Beginning by saying that whatever good qualities Mary had to make her popular, it was evident she had no tenderness, she continues : — " Of this she seemed to me to give an unquestionable proof the first day she came to WhitehaU. I was one of those who had the honour to wait on her to her own apartment. She ran about it looking into every closet and conveniency, and turning up the quilts upon the bed, as people do when they come Into an inn, and with no other sort of concern in her appearance but such as they express ; a behaviour which, though at that time I was extremely caressed by her, I thought very strange and unbecoming. For whatever necessity there was of deposing King James, he was still her father, who had been so lately driven from that chamber and that bed ; and if she felt no tenderness, I thought she should at least have looked grave, or even pensively sad at so melancholy a reverse of his fortune. But I kept these thoughts in my own breast, not imparting them even to my mistress, to whom I could say anything with aU the freedom imaginable. And it was impossible for anybody to labour more than I did to keep the two sisters in perfect union and friendship ; thinking it best for them both not to quarrel when their true interest and safety were jointly concerned to support the 13^ Zbc Queen's Comrabe Revolution. But how unpracticable the preservation of this union was rendered by the Queen herself will sufficiently appear by what I am now going to relate." This statement is borne out by Evelyn who was present when Mary arrived. " She came into Whitehall laughing and joUy as to a wedding, so as to seem quite transported," he says, adding " She rose early the next morning and in her undresse, as it is reported, before her women were up, went about from roome to roome to see the conveniences of Whitehall ; lay in the same bed and apartment wheere the late Queene lay and within a night or two sate down to play at basset as the Queene her predecessor used to do. She smiled upon and talked to everybody, so that no change seemed to have taken place at Court since her last going away, save that infinite crowds of people thronged to see her, and that she went to our prayers. This carriage was censured by many. She seems to be of a good nature and that she takes nothing to heart." From the few pages of an exceedingly interesting journal kept by Mary, which was preserved in the Hanoverian State archives, and pubHshed by Dr. Doebner in 1886, we learn her feeUngs at this period. Here she records her preparations for coming to England, the prayers she composed, and her fears for " the Prince's dear person in particular and the whole business in general." Dreadful stories had been told her, amongst others that an apothecary in Paris had undertaken to poison him. " This " she says " reaUy frihted me, but I by chance lookt on the 91st Psalm ]£jtract from ^arg's Journal 139 which I paraphrased after my own fashion and found great comfort in it, and in all this time the Lord so visibly supported me that I must praise Him for it as long as I live. In the mean while I had my journey in my head, which not a litle troubled me to leave a place I had so much reason to love ; yet knowing I must submit to the wiU of God in all things I set myself about to make preparations of prayers and meditations to sanctify my journey, that in nothing I might be wanting to my God ; and when by letters from the Prince I found he had accepted the Govern ment tlU the Convention, I belessed my God for having brought such great things to pass In so wunderfuU a manner without blood shed, and beseechd God to bless the Prince with grace and strenght to perform so weighty a business as he ought. I composed likewise a prayer for the Convention." Having taken the Sacrament as a further means of sanctifying a journey which resulted from the deposition of her father, she soon had " vast seas " between her and HoUand. When she saw England she was filled with a secret joy, until some recollection of what recently had happened there crossed her mind. However " the joy of seeing the Prince again, strove against that melancoUy, and the thought, that I should my husband see owned as the deliverer of my country, made me vain. ... I had a joy greater than can be expresd to come to the Prince, but I found him in a very ill condition as to his health, he had a violent cough upon him and was grown extreamly lean." 14° trbe Queen's Comrabe She declares herself " extream glad " to see her sister, and the pride of her new position evidently elated her, for she records being " guilty of a great sin. I let myself go on too much and the devil immediatly toock his advantage, the world filled my mind, and left but litle room for good thoughts. The next day after I came we were proclaimed and the government put wholy in the Prince's hand. This pleased me extreamly but many would not beUeve it, so that I was fain to force myself to more mirth then became me at that time, and was by many interpreted as ill nature, pride, and the great delight I had to be a queen." From the first the royal sisters failed to harmonise. Anne's hesitation to waive her rights in favour of William had offended Her Majesty : that the Princess was a mother was a cause of jealousy to one who was childless ; whilst their temperaments greatly differed, Anne according to Lady Marlborough, being naturally so silent that she rarely spoke more than was necessary to answer a question, whilst Mary quickly grew weary of any one who did not talk a great deal, and so delighted in hearing herself, that it was said at Court the Queen talked as much as the King thought, and the Princess ate. In minor matters they seem to have disagreed from the first. On coming to England Mary owned her surprise at seeing such little devotion "in a people so lately in such eminent danger." They regarded Sunday merely as an idle day, and actually broke /Hban?'s IReligtous jfervour ui the sanctity of the Sabbath by having their dinners cooked at the public ovens. The Queen herself instead of going to prayers four times a day as in HoUand could scarcely find time to attend chapel more than twice, and then there was so much formality and such Uttle devotion that she was shocked. So she resolved to do what she could " towards macking devotion loockt on as it ought, and would fain have it more serious " and accordingly she had " several fiddlers " who supported the choir in St. James's Chapel turned out, as savouring of popery ; she commanded afternoon sermons to be preached in Whitehall Chapel; and she directed that on Sundays, constables should stand at the corners of the streets and pounce on and carry away as hostages all puddings pies and divers meats, sent by the ungodly to bakers' ovens. Now Anne sadly grieved Her Majesty by laughing heartily at the ridiculous scenes and free fights that foUowed the arrest by gallant constables, of baked mutton or roast beef ; and the only notice she took of the afternoon sermons was to avoid them ; whilst she dared to think that the services in St. James's Chapel might gain in reverence if His Majesty could be induced to remove his hat and remain uncovered when he attended them, and not behave as when amongst his Dutch dissenters. Yet Mary's failure to sanctify the nation did not dishearten her ; for she continued to compose prayers and glorify herself; praising God that aU things turned to the good of 142 trbe Queen's Comrabe her soul and that she saw the great wickedness of her own heart. " I was constant all Lent to the sermons and endeavoured as much as I could to spend those days in prayer and meditation. Upon everything that happened I prayed and meditated and found myself grow in grace, for which for ever blessed be the name of God." She was soon given plentiful opportunities of medi tating on the disagreements which arose between herself and her sister. The first of these was occa sioned by Mary's hesitation to give Anne a suite of apartments in Whitehall for which the latter was willing to exchange her own at the Cockpit. For after various debates in which His Majesty did not think it undignified to take part, Anne was told that no decision could be made until it was seen if the Duke of Devonshire would have them : on which she replied with spirit that " she would stay where she was, for she would not have my Lord Devon shire's leavings." Nor was the Princess conciliated when a little later she asked for the Palace at Richmond where much of her childhood had been spent, and which she thought a healthy residence for her own puny offspring ; for this was also refused her as it was lent to a sister of Elizabeth Villiers the King's mistress. " The Princess notwithstanding these mortifications continued to pay all imaginable respect to the King and Queen " says Lady Marlborough. " But this did not hinder Her Majesty from expressing a great deal anne's allowance 143 of displeasure when some steps were made in Parlia ment towards settling a revenue on the Prince and Princess." For as yet that settlement which Anne had stipulated for on waiving her claims, had not been made by William who was allowed six hundred thousand a year by the country, out of which it was specified that Anne should be provided for. But now that his object was gained he showed a reluctance to allow her the thirty- two thousand a year settled on her by her father on his accession. William's attempt to keep her dependent on himself and therefore securing her fidelity, was distasteful to herself and to her advisers ; they knowing that the Jacobites and Tories, in their anxiety to forward his growing unpopularity, would gladly bring forward her claims in Parliament, and force him to ,grant her a substantial income. On catching rumours of this the Court became alarmed and fresh indignation against Anne was soon shown by Their Majesties. One night in the royal drawing-room the Queen begged to know what was the meaning of those proceedings, when Anne answered she heard her friends intended to make her some settlement. " Pray what friends have you but the King and me .-' " the Queen asked imperiously. Lady Marlborough who narrates this incident con tinues " I had not the honour to attend the Princess that night, but when she came back she repeated this to me. And indeed I never saw her express so much resentment as she did at this usage, and I think it must be allowed she had great reason. For it was unjust In 144 trbe Queen's Comrabe her sister not to aUow her a decent provision without an entire dependence on the King. And besides the Princess had in a short time learnt that she must be very miserable if she was to have no support but the friendship of the two persons Her Majesty had mentioned. " After this the Queen said no more to the Princess on the subject of the settlement though they met every day ; and the affair went on so well in the House of Commons that her friends were encouraged to propose for her a much larger revenue than was at last obtained ; to prevent which by gaining time, the King prorogued the parliament." The truth was that William had no desire to make settlements on those who were not his favourites, and certainly not on Anne whom he heartily disUked. The origin of this feeling might be traced to previous years when, on receiving letters from Mary complain ing that Elizabeth ViUiers not only enjoyed WUliam's favour but openly boasted of it in the presence of his wife, Anne spoke warmly on the subject to Bentinck then conspiring in England, demanding that he should check the woman's insolence. Her words were repeated by the favourite to his master who never forgave them. Boorish in his manner to all, William's rudeness to Anne was soon noticed by the Court, and a particular instance of his conduct soon became current gossip. Lady Marlborough's acccount of it had best be quoted verbatim. "I could," she says, "fiU many sheets with the anne gives Birfb to a Son ms brutalities that were done to the Princess in this reign. William III. was indeed so illnatured and so little polished by education, that neither in great things nor in small, had he the manners of a gentleman. I give an instance of his worse than vulgar behaviour at his own table, when the Princess dined with him. It was the beginning of his reign and some weeks before the Princess was put to bed of the Duke of Gloucester. There happened to be just before her a plate of green peas, the first that had been seen that year. The King without offering the Princess the least share of them, drew the plate before him and devoured them all. Whether he offered any to the Queen I cannot say, but he might have done that safely enough, for he knew she durst not touch one. The Princess Anne confessed when she came home, that she had so much mind for the peas, that she was afraid to look at them, and yet could hardly keep her eyes off them." Whilst her settlement was stiU in dispute ^ cir cumstance happened which considerably raised her importance in the eyes of the nation. In the summer of 1689 she was staying at Hampton Court Palace, in apartments given her by Their Majesties, who had already resolved to remodel that fine old Tudor build ing, so that Its designs might be more agreeable to WUliam's Dutch tastes. Here on July 24th, Anne, who already had borne many children none of whom survived, gave birth to a male chUd. As William and Mary had no offspring, they and their supporters gladly hailed the birth of an heir whom they trusted VOL. I. 10 146 trbe Queen's Comrabe would exclude James and his son from the throne. Not only did the Queen stay some time with her sister, but the King and his courtiers flocked into Anne's bedroom to offer their congratulations. The child was called William, and at his baptism the King named him Duke of Gloucester, at which his mother was horrified as she considered the title dreadfuUy un lucky. In the Journal already referred to Mary says she had " loockt on it as a particular providence of God " that her sister was blest with a son. "So I thought it a very melancoUy prospect when it pleased God to send him convulsion-fits at five weeks old, and those so strong, none thought he could live, but it pleased God to hear the prayer made him. In this, blessed be God, I saw the grace of God in my heart ; for tho' I can truly say I was as heartily sorry for the child as I could be, yet I loocked further ; I considered it as a continuance of the righteous judgment of God upon owr unhappy family and these sinfuU nations, and that made a great impression upon me, which praised be God I turned to the good of my soul, and had abundant reasons to bless my good God for the re covery of the child as also for the wonderful relief of Londonderry which happened some time before," and which it may be added was the signal of her father's defeat in Ireland. In the following autumn the agitation was renewed for a settlement on Anne, who was now mother to the heir to the crown. WiUiam, who In the economy of his /lbari?'s Xacli of /iboral Courage 147 spirit had been heard to say he did not think a separate table from his own necessary for the Princess and her husband, was unwiUIng to grant her a generous allow ance ; and Lady Marlborough was waylaid with threats and flatteries and all kinds of endeavours to persuade Anne from seeking a settlement. The chief person employed by royalty to communicate with the Countess was Lady FItzhardIng, one of the Villiers sisters. On coming from HoUand the Queen had graciously chaperoned Elizabeth ViUiers, William's mistress, who was now a member of the Royal house hold ; for the virtuous Mary was wanting either in the inclination or the moral courage to close her doors upon this squinting sinner. EUzabeth's brother Edward ViUiers, was also a member of the Court, having been appointed Lord of the Bedchamber, and later created Baron Villiers and Earl of Jersey by William ; whilst Lady FItzharding was the favourite and confidant of the Queen. It was the latter member of this fascinating family who assured Lady Marlborough that if she did not put an end to this agitation it would be the ruin of her lord and all her family ; and when this threat failed to have the desired effect, it was added that Anne would never succeed in getting Parliament to fix her revenue, and even if she did, the King would not think himself obliged to yield, so that it was a perfect madness to persist, and sanity only lay in obedience to the wishes of His avaricious Majesty. " But all this and a great deal more that was 148 Ubc Queen's Comrabe said," writes Lady Marlborough, " was so far from inclining me to do what was desired of me, that it only made me more anxious about the success of the Princess's affair and more earnest if possible in the prosecution of it. For as I could have died rather than make my Court to that reign by sacrificing the interest of the Princess, so there was nothing I dreaded more than by the least appearance of negligence or coldness in the present cause, to give ground to suspect me of having been flattered or frightened into so base a conduct. I employed therefore all the powers I was capable of exerting to advance the design." The Princess now deeply involved in debt had an opportunity of comparing the generosity of her father against whom she had intrigued, with the brother-in- law whose meanness she detested. News had been carried to her that he had greatly wondered how she could have spent thirty thousand a year, " though it appeared afterwards," remarked Lady Marlborough, "that some of his favourites had more." It was probably at this time that Anne, whose temper was easily roused and whose language was not always choice, began to recall the names which were given him as a bridegroom, and her constant and incautious reference to the Dutch Monster, to Caliban, and His Manikin Majesty, being carried to William's ears did not increase his affection for her. A day or two before the Princess's income was to be fixed by a parliamentary vote. Lady Marlborough was greatly surprised to receive a visit from the Earl of trbe Ifting's ©ffer to anne 149 Shrewsbury, Lord Chamberlain to His Majesty, a courtier whose gentle persuasive manner was considered to compensate for his disfigurement in the loss of an eye. Announcing that he came from the King, he declared that William would give the Princess fifty thousand a year if she would desist from soliciting a settlement by Parliament, and that he was confident the King would keep his word. If not, the earl — who must have had his doubts on the subject — said he would not serve him an hour after he broke it. Lady Marlborough dryly answered that such a resolution might be very commendable, but she did not see that it would benefit the Princess if the King failed to keep his promise. It was In vain he argued with a woman of so clear a brain and strong a mind in the hope of gaining his point ; and to end his endeavours she begged him to wait on the Princess, the favourite going in advance to tell her of his visit and no doubt to prompt her answer, which was in keeping with what was already said ; Anne assuring him that " she could not think herself in the wrong to desire a security for what was to support her ; and that the business was now gone so far, that she thought it reasonable to see what her friends could do for her." When the King failed to persuade her to depend on himself, he became fearful lest her supporters might insist on his allowing her a revenue of seventy thousand, to prevent which he entered into an agreement to give her fifty thousand, the question being finaUy settled in ISO trbe Queen's Comrabe ParUament on December i8th, 1689. And from that date forward the Queen assumed a severe and distant manner to her sister which time did nothing to heal but much to aggravate. There remains no doubt that Anne gained her point chiefly through the advice and exertions of Lord and Lady Marlborough ; a fact of which neither Their Majesties nor the Princess lost sight. " On one side," says the Countess, " it was the chief source of all the dissatisfaction of the King and Queen with us ; and on the other it was acknowledged by the Princess with as deep a sense of the kindness as could be expressed, and In a manner generous to a very high degree." Though willing to make use of the Marlboroughs, neither WilUam nor Mary Uked or trusted them, and these feelings were greatly increased when the former joined Anne's cause in opposition to Their Majesties' wishes. On the other hand Lord and Lady Marl borough were bitterly disappointed by the treatment they received from royalty ; for he by his desertion of his former master, and she by her influence over the Princess of Denmark had greatly helped to bring about the Revolution and place WUliam and Mary on the throne. In return for such services no adequate rewards had been given them ; for Sarah had no appointment offered her at Court, whilst her husband in comparing his case with the crowd of foreigners on whom the King had heaped honours and wealth, felt himself Ul-treated, and complained to William Jll*trreatment of tbe flbarlborougbs isi of his favouritism to Dutchmen, much to the King's indignation. A gradual strain therefore came between Their Majesties and the Marlboroughs ; Mary showing an icy behaviour to Sarah when the latter, imperious and resentful, attended her royal mistress to Court, whilst William had his own boorish method of showing rude ness to Lord Marlborough. It was the new monarch's habit whilst dining in public to surround himself by his gross-feeding deep-drinking Dutch favourites, to the exclusion of the English noblemen, who when they entered the room at meal time were not bidden, as in the former reigns, to the table, but stood behind the King's chair unnoticed when they did not retire in disgust. Lady Marlborough was unwilling to believe that her husband could be treated in this manner by a man who owed him so much ; so she sent for the Earl's aide-de camp, young DiUon, who because of his intimacy with Arnold von Keppel the King's handsome page and great favourite was usually present at the Royal dinners. Making certain enquiries of DUlon she was told that " he never saw any man treated with such neglect and contempt as Lord Marlborough," on which boiling with anger she commented, " It is just what he deserves, he should have considered how much better he was off some months ago." However, the ill-bred treatment of Their Majesties was compensated for by the generosity of Anne towards her friends. About a year after the settlement was made. Lady Marlborough was surprised to receive a IS2 trbe Queen's Comrabe letter from the Princess who shyly told her " I have had something to say to you a great while, and I did not know how to go about It. I have designed ever since my revenue was settled, to desire you would accept of a thousand pounds a year. I beg you would only look upon it as an earnest of my good will, but never mention anything of it to me ; for I shall be ashamed to have any notice taken of such a thing from one that deserves more than I shall ever be able to return." In the same kindly manner the Princess wrote again of this handsome gift when some little delay had occurred in the payment of it : " 'Tis long since I mentioned this thing to dear Mrs. Freeman. She has all the reason in the world to believe I did not mean what I said, or that I have changed my mind, which are both so iU qualities that I cannot bear you should have cause to think your faithful Morley is capable of being guilty of either." Lady Marlborough says that " though the circum stances of her famUy at this time were not very great," she was unwilling to grasp at the Princess's offer until she had consulted her old friend Lord Godolphin. His opinion was that there waS no reason In the world why she should not accept the Princess's gift, " and perhaps," says the Countess with an air of satisfaction, " no one else will think otherwise who believes as he did, that the settling of the Princess's revenue had been chiefly owing to my Lord Marlborough's indefatigable industry and to mine," animosity? between /Ibars anb anne 153 That Anne should reward her favourites for their services in thwarting Their Majesties' wishes, must have further embittered them not only against herself but against those who benefited by her generosity. But the growing animosity between the royal sisters was soon to gain fresh strength, as shall be mentioned in its proper place. CHAPTER VI The Primate refuses to bless the Queen — Mary punishes Him — Dressing for the Coronation — Startling News of King James's Landing in Ireland — Hostile Spirit of the Church and the Army — Admiral Lord Torrington's Instructions — Defeat of the English Fleet off Beachy Head — William goes to Ireland — His Affront to Prince George of Denmark — Lord Marlborough restores Tranquillity to Cork and Kinsale — The Queen's Letters to Her Husband — Reference to Her Father — Dr. Tillotson's Doubts of Hell — His Scepticism rewarded — Prince George desires to serve at Sea — Their Majesties' Contempt for Him — Lady Marlborough answers a very great Lord — Unpopularity of the King and Queen — Comments on William's Person and Habits — Promotion of the Dutch Favourites — Action of , Parliament — The Queen consults a Fashionable Fortune-teller — Her Majesty's many Troubles — Her Reference to the King's Mistress — Lord Marlborough corresponds with King James — Anne asks for the Garter for Lord Marlborough — Her Penitent Letter to Her Father. '55 CHAPTER VI THAT the ultimate possession of a coveted object often brings bitter disappointment, was an ex perience that William and Mary were soon to learn ; for after years of plotting and contriving they gained a crown which for both was one of thorns. The first unpleasant incident In the reign happened shortly after it began : for on the day succeeding her arrival, Mary who had a reputation for piety to sup port, sent two of her chaplains to the Primate's palace at Lambeth, humbly requesting for herself the blessing of the venerable Archbishop Sancroft, one of the spiritual peers her father had imprisoned and whose approval and admiration of her conduct she could not doubt. Therefore great was her surprise and bitter her indignation when a verbal message was sent to her, that ignoring her assumed rank said " TeU your Princess first to ask her father's blessing ; without that mine would be useless." If possible his crime was heightened by his refusal to crown her ; but Mary who could be the abject slave of her brutish husband was willing to show her haughty spirit to •57 158 trbe Queen's Comrabe a helpless old man ; and In her new character of Defender of the Faith — WiUiam having given her management of all ecclesiastical affairs — she not only deprived Sancroft of his primacy but sent her emissaries to expel him from his palace. It may be mentioned that his few remaining years were saved from starvation by an annuity of fifty pounds he had inherited. The Archbishop's message was stiU ringing in her ears when worse befell her. On the very morning when the town was all astir with expectation of seeing the coronation procession, and whilst Their Majesties were robing themselves for that august ceremony, news was brought them that James had landed at Kinsale and that with the exception of a few towns in the north, all Ireland was ready to flock round his standard. Nor had the first surprise of this intelli gence died away before Mary was handed a letter from her father, the first she had received from him since landing in England. In this he said that " hitherto he had made all fatherly excuses for what had been done, and had wholly attributed her part in the revolution to obedience to her husband, but the act of being crowned was in her own power, and if she were crowned while he and the Prince of Wales were living, the curses of an outraged father would light upon her as well as of that God who has commanded duty to parents." Always restrained and placid, Mary showed less signs of being shaken by these terrible threats than her husband, who with his sallow face turning to grey Disloijal Cburcb anb arms 159 thought fit, as Lord Nottingham says, " to enter Into a vindication of himself from having, by harsh authority, enforced the course of conduct which had brought on his wife her father's malediction " ; and he took the opportunity of declaring " that he had done nothing but by her advice and with her approbation." When he had ended Mary made the horrible recrimination that " if her father regained his authority, her husband might thank himself for letting him go as he did." Fresh unpleasant experiences were in store for Their Majesties ; for all the bishops except eight, together with hundreds of the clergy and many peers, abso lutely refused to take the oath of allegiance to the new Sovereigns. The Army outraged by the preference given to the Dutch in its ranks and always faithful to King James, was as disloyal as the Church. To cure them of such an Infirmity William determined to transfer the discontented troops to Holland where the inhuman practice of scourging the soldiery was a constant terror to them. He therefore ordered the Royal Scotch regiment of horse, and Dumbarton's regiment of foot to embark for Holland ; but on reaching Ipswich they boldly deserted, and with beating drums and flying colours marched towards Scotland untU overtaken by three regiments of the hated Dutch dragoons, when they surrendered and were sent to HoUand where, under the lash of the foreigner, these free-born Englishmen were taught loyalty to their new sovereign. The hostile spirit of the Church and Army to himself t6o trbe Queen*s Comrabe and his consort sorely vexed WiUiam who was not less angered by the conduct of Parliament which kept a vigilant and zealous watch on his movements, and began to give evidence of its feelings towards him when in 1689, it condemned to be burnt at the hands of the common hangman, a letter written by Bishop Burnet stating that William and Mary reigned by right of conquest ; a fate which was Ukewise decreed to a book published by Bentley, and called King William and Qjueen Mary, Conquerors. AU the world knows that in June 1690, King William set out for Ireland where King James was rallying round him his subjects who hoped to replace him on the throne ; but it was not until a compara tively recent date that a paper written by Mary's confidant the Earl of Nottingham, Secretary of State, and signed by her husband, was found amongst the papers of Herbert Earl of Torrington, authorising Admiral Lord Torrington to seize the person of James II. and deliver him to the States of Holland to be disposed of as they should think proper. Had James been handed over to his enemies whose fleets he had conquered in former days, there is little doubt as to what his fate would have been ; but this was spared him, probably because Torrington — although he had piloted William's Navy to Torbay — had since then secretly veered round to Jacobitism, like so many others whose experience of " our Dutch Saviour " as WiUiam was ironically called, inspired them with neither loyalty nor affection. timilliam goes to Jrelanb i6i It may be added that Lord Torrington had no wish to fight the French Navy cruising round the coast on behalf of James, and that the defeat of the Dutch and EngUsh Navy off Beachy Head was due to him ; for which he was tried by court martial and acquitted, though William — who told Lord Halifax that if any man ever deserved impeachment It was Torrington — dis missed him from the Navy and aU other employments. In departing for Ireland the prudent William took Prince George with him " more from fear of leaving him behind," as Dalrymple says, " and to lessen the odium of going to fight against his wife's father, by dividing that odium, than to do honour to the Prince, and from a similar precaution he carried with him a number of English nobUity and men of distinction, as volunteers or rather as hostages." But although Anne's husband had hired at his own expense some seven thousand cavalry from his native Denmark, he was not allowed to command them ; and by way of showing greater insult still to the man he always despised, William outraged etiquette by refusing to allow the Prince to ride in the same carriage with himself; " an affront never put upon a person of that rank before," writes Lady Marlborough, who adds, " The Prince however submitted to this indignity, it being too late to take any measures to avoid it. Nor during the whole campaign did he fail in any part of duty or respect ; though the King never took more notice of him than if he had been a page of the back stairs." VOL. L II 1 62 ube Queen's Comrabe During William's absence from England the govern ment was placed in the hands of Mary, aided by nine Privy Councillors one of whom was Lord Marlborough. Although the latter, whilst commanding the British forces acting against the French In the Netherlands, had recently shown such bravery and skiU as gained him the warm thanks of the undemonstrative WiUiam, yet he was not amongst those who accompanied the King to Ireland. Lord Marlborough's biographer Archdeacon Coxe says it was surmised that WiUiam pressed Marlborough to join the campaign, but that the Earl frankly declined to fight against his former sovereign and benefactor. The statement assumes probability from the fact that when James left Ireland after the Battle of the Boyne, Marlborough went over to that unhappy country and in little more than a month and without the cruel usages that distinguished WiUiam's army, restored tranquiUity to Cork and Kinsale. Stranger indeed than fiction and only less strange than the inconceivable complexities of the human heart, is the love shown at this time by Mary in the letters written to the husband who had wronged her by unfaithfulness and humbled her by insults; and who, as Lord Dartmouth says, " was generally thought to submit to the King's ill humours and temper more than she had reason to do, considering the insolent treatment she frequently received from him, which she was never known to complain of herself, but I have heard most of her servants speak of it with great indignation." QUEEN MARY. Page 163.1 /Ibars's Xetter to Ximilliam 163 One of these communications will be sufficient to reveal the depth of an affection, which like that of so many other women, seemed to increase in proportion as it was unvalued. Writing on August 26th, 1690, to WiUiam, then in Ireland she says, "My poor heart is ready to break every time I think in what perpetual danger you are ; I am in greater fears than can be imagined by any one who loves less than myself. I count the hours and the moments and have only reason enough left to think, as long as I have no letters all is weU. I believe by what you write that you got your cannon Friday at farthest, and then Saturday I suppose you began to make use of them. Judge then what cruel thoughts they are to me to think what you may be exposed to all this while. I never do anything without thinking now, it may be, you are in the greatest dangers, and yet I must see company upon my sett days ; I must play twice a week ; nay I must laugh and talk though never so much against my will ; I believe I dissemble very UI to those who know me ; at least 'tis a great constraint to myself, yet I must endure it. "All my motions are so watched and all I do so observed, that if I eat less or speak less, or look more grave, all is lost in the opinion of the world ; so that I have this misery added to that of your absence and my fears for your dear person, that I must grin while my heart is ready to break and talk when my heart is so oppressed I can scarce breathe. "In this I don't know what I should do, were it 1 64 trbe Queen's Comrabe not for the grace of God which supports me. I am sure I have great reason to praise the Lord whUe I Uve for this great mercy, that I don't sink under this affliction ; nay that I keep my health, for I can neither sleep nor eat. I go to Kensington as often as I can for air, but then I can never be quite alone ; neither can I complain, that would be some ease ; but I have nobody whose humour and circumstances agrees with mine enough to speak my mind freely to. " Besides I must hear of business, which being a thing I am so new on, and so unfit for, does but break my brains the more and not ease my heart. I see I have insensibly made my letter too long upon my own self, but I am confident you love enough to bear with it for once ; I don't remember that I have been guUty of the like fault before since you went, and that is now three months, for which time of almost perpetual fear and trouble, this is but a short account, and so I hope may pass. 'Tis some ease to me to write my pain, and 'tis a great satisfaction to beUeve you wUl pity me, it wiU be yet more when I hear it from yourself in a letter, as I am sure you must if it were but out of common good nature ; how much more then out of kindness, if you love me as well as you make me beUeve, and as I endeavour to deserve a Uttle by that sincere and lasting kindness I have for you. " But by making excuses I do but take up more of your time and therefore must teU you that this morning Lord Marlborough went away. As little reason as I have to care for his wife, yet I must pity her condition. Battle of tbe Bogne 165 having lain in but eight days ; and I have great com passion for wives when their husbands go to fight. . . . " Now my letter Is already so long, but 'tis as if I were bewitched to-night, I can't end for my life ; but will force myself now, beseeching God to bless you and keep you from all dangers whatsoever, and send us a happy meeting again here upon earth, and at last a joyful and blessed one in heaven in his good time. Farewell, do but continue to love me, and forgive the taking up so much of your time to your poor wife, who deserves more pity than ever any creature did, and who loves you a great deal too much for her own ease, though it can't be more than you deserve." One of these letters contains the sole reference made by her to her parent, whom she called " the late King," and it wiU be noticed that she humbly asks her husband's forgiveness for showing some solicitude for her father. On hearing " the joyful news " of the Battle of the Boyne from Mr. Butler, " I was," she says, " In pain to know what was become of the late King, and durst not ask him, but when Lord Nottingham came I did venture to do it, and had the satisfaction to hear he was safe. I know I need not beg you to let him be taken care of, for I am confident you wiU, for your own sake ; yet add that to all your kindness, and for my sake, let people know you would have no hurt come to his person. Forgive me this." With reference to this solitary expression of kindness for her father either written by herself or recorded by her contemporaries, it may be mentioned that a rumour i66 trbe Queen's Comrabe spread at this time that Mary repented her usurpation, and that in the hope of easing her conscience she sent for Dr. Tillotson who, to soothe her, preached his famous sermon throwing doubts on the eternal torments of hell. That so satisfactory a doctrine as an ever lasting torture for those who dared to differ from them In opinion, or who had injured them, should be doubted, was not to be tolerated by a Christian people, and a furious uproar ensued and lasted for months, threatening the poor preacher and destroying whatever comfort many had drawn from his words. But she rewarded his intentions by nominating him for the Primacy in place of Archbishop Sancroft whom she had deposed. William returned from Ireland in September 1690, heavy with his defeat at Limerick and the loss of some twelve thousand soldiers that lay dead in the trenches. In a few days he retired with his worshipping Queen to Hampton Court Palace, one of whose stately quad rangles had been by this time pulled down to please him. His stay in England was short, for in the foUowing January 1691, he sailed for The Hague; and though jealous of the ability with which Mary held the reins of government in his previous absence, he was obliged to place them In her hands once more. He returned in April to obtain supplies of money and troops from the English nation for an expedition planned by the allied forces against France ; and set sail for Flanders In May. Now Prince George who is described by Mackay " a Deri3 (5reat Xorb " 167 as loving news, his bottle, and his wife, was roused by his campaign in Ireland from the dull inactivity of his daily life ; and became anxious to serve the King at sea as a volunteer without any command, a fact he mentioned to his brother-in-law at the last public audience His Majesty gave to his courtiers. That the usually silent WiUiam made the Prince no answer was taken as a consent by the latter, who eagerly began to prepare himself for sea. But though the King did not condescend to give him a reply, he left definite instructions with the Queen that " she should neither suffer the Prince to go to sea, nor yet forbid him to go, if she could so contrive matters, as to make his staying at home his own choice." It was not till the Prince had sent his equipage on board the ship in which he Intended to sail, that Mary began her delicate task of hindering the Prince from joining the expedition, whilst making it appear that his remaining at home resulted from his own choice. For this purpose she sent " a very great lord " not to her sister but to Lady Marlborough, whose influence was in this way recognised by royalty. The very great lord expressed the Queen's desire that the favourite would persuade Anne to keep her husband from going to sea, without letting the Princess know that such was Her Majesty's wish. " I answered," writes Lady Marlborough, " that I had all the duty imaginable for the Queen, but that no consideration could make me so failing to my mistress as I should think myself, if I spoke to her 1 68 trbe Queen's Comrabe upon that occasion and concealed the reason of it. That It was natural for the Princess to wish the Prince might stay at home and be out of danger, but whether she could prevail in that matter I did very much doubt. That nevertheless I would say to the Princess whatever her majesty pleased, provided that I might have the liberty to make use of her name. After this the Queen sent my Lord Rochester to me, to desire much the same thing. The Prince was not to go to sea, and his not going was to appear his own choice." When at last Her Majesty's desire was made known to the Prince, that invertebrate person, who had quietly borne so much from his royal relatives, actually showed signs of revolt ; for he repUed that there had been so much talk about his intention, and his preparations were so well known, that if he were to send for his belong ings now on board ship, without giving any reason for his act, he would cut a very ridiculous figure in the public eye. That he had done this already, does not seem to have dawned on his simple mind. In answer to his complaints the Queen sent Lord Nottingham in form, positively to forbid him going to sea ; an action which still further estranged the royal sisters. A period of perplexity and danger now set in for Their Majesties whose popularity was daily on the wane ; for which many causes had arisen. Though crushed and treated "with a merciless severity that stain the annals of all time," Ireland still surged in an agony of revolt. Scotland always loyal to the Stuarts, resented William's severity to the episcopal clergy, and Deposition of Bisbops 169 remembered the inhuman massacre of Glencoe, a warrant for which he had signed : whilst in England the people were provoked by the heavy taxes they were forced to pay to defray the expenses of wars that brought them neither gain nor glory. And the glimpses they got of the new King's love of absolute monarchy, his hatred of liberal opinions, his open favour of dissent, made them think they had been over hasty in rejecting their former sovereign, under whose short sway the nation had prospered. Mary's action in deposing the bishops and clergy who for conscience' sake refused to take the oath of allegiance to herself and her husband, stripped her of all public regard amongst Church people ; whilst the im prisonment In the Tower of her uncle Lord Clarendon on suspicion of his favouring her father, and the con demnation to death of Lord Preston, Chamberlain of James, and of Ashton, a member of the household of the exiled Queen, were severties that many resented. The disloyalty which existed about the Court in many cases arose for personal grievances. William's dislike to the publicity of Whitehall and his love of hiding himself away at Hampton Court " to conceal his fretful- ness," as Burnet puts it, was a blow to the gaieties and festivities to which those who surround royalty had been accustomed. Dalrymple narrates how the citizens asked what offence they had given the King that they should suffer the loss of his presence amongst them and of the usual festivities and pomp of a Court. And as he amused himself by puUing down part of Hampton 170 trbe Queen's Comrabe Court Palace and rebuilding it, and laying out its gardens in the Dutch style, they complained he was spending the nation's money on his pleasures at a time when the treasury was drained of its funds to support foreign wars ; and that in the solitudes of his Dutch modeUed gardens and palace he wished to forget he was in England and believe himself in his beloved Holland. Nor was this aU. " They remarked," continued Dalrymple, " the King's smaU stature, the weak texture of his body, and taking advantage of a peciUiarity in his features, called him in derision "¦ hook-nose.' The malignant satisfaction with which the great and the Uttle equally repeated Court scandal, marked the growth of the distemper in all." But above aU, the morose humours and surly frowns to which he treated the EngUsh nobiUty formed a bitter contrast to the favours and frIendUness shown to his countrymen. When the young aide-de-camp DiUon, before mentioned, had seen him several times at dinner but had never once heard him utter a word, he asked the King's page von Keppel, " Does your master ever speak .' " when the answer came " Oh yes, he talks fast enough at night over his bottle, when he has none about him but his Dutch friends." It is possible the English nobiUty woxUd not have envied the smUes bestowed by WiUiam on his favourites if he had not also given them substantial proofs of his admiration ; for of such proofs there was no lack. Bentinck was made Earl of Portland, a Privy-CounciUor, Groom of the Stole and Privy Purse ; Auverquerque IForfeiteb Estates in Jrelanb 171 was appointed Master of the Horse ; Zulestein received the office of Master of the Robes ; and Schomberg was placed at the head of the ordnance. And so liberal was William in bestowing on his Dutch favourites the estates forfeited by James's adherents, that to save some of them from a grasping horde, ParUament applied to have a million out of these properties, devoted to the public funds. The Court party were enabled to defeat the proposition, when nothing daunted the Commons introduced a bill for applying the whole of the forfeited estates for this purpose ; but WiUiam's friends managed to have a clause added by which the Crown was given the disposal of a third of such properties ; and the consideration of the Bill was put off from time to time untU to avoid its being passed the King prorogued Parliament in 1691, promising however that he would make no grants of forfeited lands until a further opportunity of settling the matter arose. It may be mentioned here that this promise was not kept ; for eight years later a dissatisfied Parliament appointed seven Commissioners to enquire into the grants of the forfeited estates in Ireland, when it was seen that the most considerable of them were given to such favourite foreigners as Keppel, Bentinck, Ginckel and Rouvigny who had been dignified with peerages in one or other of the kingdoms ; and that besides a grant had been made of all the private estates of King James containing ninety-five thousand acres, worth twenty-five thousand nine hundred and ninety-five pounds a year, to EUzabeth Villiers, the King's mistress. 172 trbe Queen's Comrabe The state of public feeling was occasionaUy brought home to Their Majesties not only in the stinging lampoons issued anonymously and circulated widely, ridicuUng Dutch WiUiam and charging James's daughters with base ingratitude, but in other ways. Whilst her father was fighting for his crown in Ireland, the grave and decorous Mary was guilty of the levity of commanding a play. It was remarkable that her choice fell on the only one whose performance her father had forbidden — Dryden's " Spanish Friar," which he con sidered ridiculed his Church. It is probable that the Queen woxUd not have selected this comedy — though it gave her the advantage of showing her favour of one faith by hearing another insvdted — if she had been aware of its licentious meaning and the political significance that could be given to its Unes. However she afforded herself the diversion of this play, and furnished the town with discourse for a month, as her Lord Chamber lain wrote to a friend. " Some unlucky expressions," he continues, " put her in disorder and forced her to hold up her fan, often look behind her, and caU for her palatine, hood, or anything she could contrive to speak of to her women. It so happened that every speech in thit play seemed to come home to her, as there was a strong report about town that her father James II. was dead in Ireland ; and whenever anything applicable was said, every one in the pit turned their heads over their shoulders, and directed their looks most pointedly at her. " Twenty things were said which were wrested by Stage tatterances 173 the audience to her confusion. When it was uttered on the stage ' 'Tis observed at Court who weeps and who wears black for good King Sancho's death ' the words were made to come home to her. Again when the Queen of Arragon is going in procession it is said ' She usurps the throne, keeps the old King in prison, and at the same time is praying for a blessing on the army.' " Another speech occurred ' Can I seem pleased to see my royal master murdered, his crown usurped, a distaff on his throne ? What right has this Queen but lawless force ? ' The observations these made furnished the town with talk till something else happened which gave as much occasion of discourse." The feeling of a section of the populace was brought home more clearly to the Queen when she escaped in her nightdress from the great fire of Whitehall in 1691, and rushed into the eager crowd that watched the palace burning ; for being recognised by some Jacobites she was followed by them whilst they caUed out to her that " her filial sins would come home to her." At such a time as this It was considered safe to predict the return of King James, and the soothsayers had many mysterious phrases and rhymed prophecies anent His Majesty's coming back to his own. A fashionable sibyl who rejoiced in the appropriate name of Wise, who could read the cards and penetrate the future, was persistent in her statement that James would drive the usurper from his kingdom ; a statement that must have im pressed Mary, for her Lord Chamberlain writing to a 174 trbe Queen's Comrabe friend says Her Majesty went one day to this fortune teller to have her future foretold ; but the Wise woman being a Jacobite at heart and hating the Queen refused to read her fate. It was no wonder she wrote to her husband whUst he was in Ireland that recently she had been greatiy pleased to hear how much people loved her in HoUand. " When I think of that," she adds, " and see what folk do here, it grieves me too much, for HoUand has really spoiled me in being so kind to me ; that they are so to you 'tis no wonder ; I wish to God it was the same here ; but I ask your pardon for this, if I once begin upon this subject, I can never have done to put it out of my head." It may have been to put it out of her head that she set the same unpleasant matter down in her journal where sadly enough she writes, " I found myself here very much neglected, little respected, censured by aU, commended by none. This was a great trouble at first, but when I considered the thing right, I saw it was from the Lord and I resolved to bear patientiy whatever he should lay upon me. I wanted to be humbled and I was it sufficientiy. 'Tis hard to flesh and blood to bear neglect, especially coming as I did from a place where I was valued so much." On the same page after referring to political worries she writes, " I had an other trouble at this time. My own people found me grown peevish and did not consider the reasons I had for it." A light is thrown on this dark hint when the faithful and loving wife Deatb of Xabg Dorset 17s refers to the illness of her husband's mistress ; the toleration of whose presence in her household the virtuous Mary thought less sinful than the natural wish that her rival should be translated to another sphere. Beginning by a reference to the loss of Lady Dorset the Journal continues, " Her death was the more sensible to me because I lookt on it as a punishment for my sins ; for I must confess and set it down here, that it may keep me from the Uke again. I own then to my shame that there was one among my Ladies who had been sick, and whom I not only could have spared, but came to near wishing she might make room for Lady Nottingham, of whom I had heard so much good and liked so well that I thought my set could not be more mended than by the change. But it pleased God to make room for her another way by removing Lady Dorset who was really grown very dear to me, and consequently the loss of her very sensible." It was towards the close of 1690, and whilst the nation was seething with discontent that James sent two of his faithful adherents. Colonel Bulkley and Colonel Sackville to England, that they might sound his former friends and see if they still remained faithful to his cause. The first they approached was Sidney, Earl of Godolphin, the most intimate friend of the Marlboroughs and one of the foremost men of the day. Descended from a distinguished Cornish family that had fought and suffered for the Stuarts in the civU war, he had at the Restoration begun life as a page to 176 trbe Queen's Comrabe Charles II. about the same time as John ChurchiU held a similar post to the Duke of York. Godolphin's upright character and general ability soon led to his advancement, and he became a Minister under Charles. In the succeeding reign he was made Chamberlain to the young Queen for whom he had a romantic attachment that survived her exile and they corresponded tiU his death. He was also made First Commissioner of the Treasury by James who valued his talents for finance, greatly esteemed his honesty and found him one of the few who remained faithful In adversity ; for Godolphin never quitted the King until His Majesty left for France. His loyalty to James did not prevent WiUiam from making use of his abilities, and he was appointed to the important post of Lord Treasurer or Prime Minister. A man of clear understanding and unimpeachable rectitude he was at the same time excessively timid ; so that though all his sympathies were with his old friend and master, the " King over the water," Jie dreaded at first to listen to the overtures made him by Colonel Bulkley. But gaining courage by degrees, he professed repentance at holding office under WiUiam, which he declared himself ready to resign when the latter returned from The Hague. Lord Halifax — then Lord of the Privy Seal was next spoken to, when without hesitation he expressed his loyalty to James ; and the adherence of these two ministers being gained, overtures were made to Lord Marlborough who had always kept up a correspondence /Ibarlborougb craves James' parbon 177 with the Court of St. Germains, through his nephew the Duke of Berwick, and his sister-in-law the Duchess of Tyrconnel. As a member of the Privy Council he had been enabled through them to serve James and his adherents, by sending word of WiUiam's intentions towards France, and warning them to provide for their safety, whenever warrants were directed against them. More disappointed than ever since his victories at Cork and Kinsale were unrewarded and his temper sorely tried by the interference of Dutch officers. Lord Marl borough was now ready to ask forgiveness of the exiled monarch, to promise his aid towards restoring him, and to enter into correspondence with him. Therefore in one of his letters to King James, Marlborough expressed penitence for his disloyalty, and declared the pangs of conscience prevented him from eating, drinking or sleeping, and that he was ready to risk his fortune to redeem his past. In another of these communications dated January 1691, and given in the Stuart papers, he begged that he might have a line under the exiled King's hand, granting him a full pardon ; stating at the same time that his wife could bring the Princess Anne to a sense of her duty. His anxiety to have the royal forgiveness at a time when James's return seemed imminent to many, was characteristic of so prudent a man ; and was probably due to a prediction regarding him made by Madame de Croise, that he would rise to be the greatest man in England and then lose his head ; a prediction which was VOL. I. 12 178 trbe Queen's Comrabe supposed to be fulfiUed when in old age his mind gave way. When his wishes had been complied with both by the King and Queen, Lord Marlborough next asked that he might be empowered on behalf of His Majesty to offer pardon to those who had re- beUed against him, saying that Lords Shrewsbury and Caermarthen did not join the conspiracy because pardon would be withheld from them if it succeeded. This request was also granted. Marlborough then advised James to press Godolphin to continue in the service of King WiUiam, and to order Shrewsbury to re-enter it, that they might have it in their power to serve their old master more effectually. A message was also received from him stating that he would prevaU on the EngUsh troops in Flanders to revolt, and that he would do the same with the EjigUsh Army ; but when he was asked to keep his promise he said his message had been misunderstood, and that it was Impossible to gain over the English soldiers untU James appeared to place himself at their head. WhUst these negotiations were going on between the exUed King and Lord Marlborough, the Princess Anne was endeavouring to obtain the Order of the Garter from WUUam for her favourite's husband. His claims for this honour rested among other achieve ments on his recent success in Ireland and his services in Flanders, to which country he had accompanied WiUiam in May 1691. Writing to her brother-in-law in August of this year, Anne says : trbe iPromise of a (Barter 179 " I hope you wiU pardon me for giving you this trouble, but I cannot help seconding the request the Prince has now made you, to remember a promise of a Garter for Lord Marlborough. You cannot bestow it upon any one that has been more serviceable to you in the late revolution, nor that has ventured their lives for you, as he has done since your coming to the crown ; but if people will not think these merits enough, I cannot believe anybody will be so unreasonable as to be dissatisfied, when It is known you are pleased to give It to him on the Prince's account and mine. I am sure I shaU ever look upon it as a mark of your favour to us. I will not trouble you with any ceremony, because I know you do not care for it." The Garter was refused Lord Marlborough by the Queen, with a contempt which still further exasperated her sister, who mistaking her own bitter resentment for repentance of her sins against her father, bewailed his unhappy fate ; and although his religion — the pretext on which she had abandoned him and joined his enemies — was still the same, Anne was now ready to welcome him back to his own. Accordingly on December ist, 1 69 1, she wrote him the following letter. " I have been very desirous of some safe opportunity , to make you a sincere and humble offer of my duty and submission to you ; and to beg you will be assured that I am both truly concerned for the misfortune of your condition and sensible as I ought to be, of my own unhappiness. As to what you may think I have contributed to it, if wishes could recall what is past, I i8o trbe Queen's Comrabe had long since redeemed my fault. I am sensible it would have been a great relief to me if I could have found means to have acquainted you earlier with my repentant thoughts, but I hope they may find the advantage of coming late — of being less suspected of insincerity, than perhaps they would have been at any time before. ' " It wiU be a great addition to the ease I propose to my own mind by this plain confession, if I am so happy as to find that it brings any real satisfaction to yours, and that you are as indulgent and easy to receive my humble submissions as I am to make them, in a free disinterested acknowledgment of my fault, for no other end but to deserve and receive your pardon. " I have had a great mind to beg you to make one compliment for me, but fearing the expressions which would be properest for me to make use of, might be, perhaps the least convenient for a letter, I must content myself at present, with hoping the bearer wiU make a compliment for me to the Queen." CHAPTER VII Plot to restore King James — The Chief Conspirators — Scene in the Royal Drawing-room — Lord Marl borough is dismissed and forbidden the Court — The Princess of Denmark receives an Anonymous Letter — Lady Marlborough defies the Queen — Her Majesty's Indignation — Requests Anne to part with Lady Marlborough — The Princess's Reply — Lord Rochester refuses to deliver It — Lady Marlborough is forbidden the Cockpit — Anne resolves to leave It — The Duchess of Somerset lends her Sion House — William's Interference — The Proud Duke of Somerset and the Dutch King — Thrice married and twice widowed before Sixteen — The Duke's exacting Disposition — " My Pig shall see Him too " — The Princess waits on the Queen — What Mary thought of the Quarrel- Some Signs of Remorse. i8i CHAPTER VII MEANWHILE the plot to restore King James was graduaUy gaining adherents, the most important of whom were Admiral Russell, Rear- Admiral Carter and Captains Delaval and KiUigrew, in whose hands the Navy may be said to have lain. France began to equip her fleets and to enlist twenty thousand men, one half of whom were Irish. In London two regiments of horse were secretly prepared, whilst in Lancashire eight regiments of horse and foot were armed and ready. James was assured that the Army under Marlborough, the Navy commanded by Russell, and the clergy led by Anne were willing and ready to flock round him. The conspiracy which was so subtly planned as to escape the notice of Their Majesties was ready for action early in 1692; when its leaders were startled by the sudden dismissal from his high places at Court and in the Army, of Lord Marlborough. This dramatic incident which was followed by actions that divided the Court into factions and stirred the public to indignation, curiosity, or laughter, was 183 i84 trbe Queen's Comrabe preceded by a prologue. On the evening of January 9th whilst Anne, once more in a delicate condition, was paying her court to Mary, " an indecorous altercation," as Archdeacon Coxe politely writes, took place between the royal sisters, leading to bitter words and indignant replies, until the Queen threatened to deprive the Princess of half her income. Knowing that as this had been fixed by Parliament the threat was idle, Anne defied Her Majesty and retired in indignation, watched by the surprised and whispering courtiers who stood in groups or were diverted from their card playing. The subject ofthe "indecorous altercation" remained a mystery until the publication of the Queen's Journal, which relates that Her Majesty taxed Anne with a knowledge of the secret correspondence then being carried on between their father and his adherents. "I heard much from all hands of my sister," Mary writes. " Whether she was wronged in it or no, I cannot well judge, but am apt to believe by the way I have seen since of her doing, that Lord Marlborough was so sure of the Prince (of Denmark) and she, when he would, that 'tis not likely he would acquaint them so far at first ; so that when I told her the reports and she denied them, 'tis probable she was sincere." Though when calmly writing her journal, Mary ad mitted Anne's probable sincerity, yet the Queen was excessively angry at the time with her sister, who warmly defended herself and her favourites, and left the drawing-room in a state of ruffled indignation. Next morning Lord Marlborough in his office as /Ibarlborougb forbibben tbe Court iSs Gentleman of the Bedchamber waited on and helped to dress the King, who did not condescend to speak to him. Before midday Lord Nottingham brought him a message from William saying " he had no further wish for his services and that he was com manded to sell or dispose of aU his employments and that he was forbidden the Court." The consternation which the dismissal caused at the Cockpit may be Imagined. The Princess wept, Lady Marlborough railed, and Prince George listened and looked on helpless and amazed at the storm raging in his household. All sorts of surmises were immediately afloat regarding the King's motive for this act. Writing of it with calmness long years after. Lady Marlborough says it might be accounted for by the great prejudice felt by the Earl of Portland for her lord, whom the latter regarded with unconcealed contempt and whom he usually spoke of as "a wooden man " ; and to the implacable enmity to herself of Elizabeth Villiers, though, she adds, " I had never done her any Injury, except not making court to her." In continuing she states that " It Is not to be doubted that the principal cause of the King's message, was the Court's dislike that anybody should have so much interest with the Princess as I had, who would not implicitly obey every command of the King and Queen. The disgrace of my Lord Marlborough was designed as a step towards removing me from about her." Ledlard, one of Lord Marlborough's biographers, says the dismissal was due to the liberty the Earl took in teUing the King that 1 86 trbe Queen's Comrabe many of his subjects were discontent at his loading foreigners with favours, to the exclusion of the English nobility ; whilst it has also been stated that William believed the Earl to have warned the French against the first of the attacks on France which had failed the previous summer. However the true cause of his dismissal, which must have been known to his wife, was told to Lord Dartmouth on the excellent authority of the Earl of Nottingham who was in the confidence of Their Majesties. Referring to this peer Lord Dartmouth, in those Notes which have done much to iUumine history, says he told him " there was a design upon France in which Lord Marlborough was to have been employed ; success depended upon secresy ; but Lord Marlborough told it to his lady, and she to Lady FItzhardIng, who told it to Lord Colchester and he acquainted the King with it, and how he came by it : which was the cause of his disgrace, besides some very disrespectful things he had said of the King's person and government to the old Duke of Bolton of which he had informed the King." The Lady FItzhardIng here mentioned was a member of Anne's household and sister to Elizabeth ViUiers and Lord Jersey who were high in favour with His Majesty, for whom Lady FItzhardIng acted as a spy ; and who already had informed him of the correspond ence carried on with France by the Princess and Lord Marlborough. To the depression she felt regarding his dismissal Xabs /Ibarlborougb goes to Court 187 fear was heavily added when an anonymous letter was secretly conveyed to Anne stating that her tears for his disgrace had greatly provoked Their Majesties ; that a powerful cabal had been formed by Lord Portland and the Villiers family against the Marlboroughs ; that a meeting the earl had held with Godolphin and Russell both Jacobites on the evening previous to his dismissal had excited suspicion ; that on the prorogation of Parliament he would be imprisoned ; and that she, the Princess, would be compeUed to dismiss her favourite. Whilst Anne still quavered from this threat, the second act of the drama took place, when Lady Marlborough presented herself at the royal drawing- room. In excusing herself for taking this injudicious step she begins by protesting that the loss of her lord's employments would never have broke her rest for a single night on account of interest, " but I confess that being turned out is something very disagreeable to my temper," she says, " and I believe it was three weeks before my best friends could persuade me, that it was fit for me to go to a Court which as I thought had used my Lord Marlborough very IU." Lady Marlborough would have us believe that she, whose Imperious will ruled all with whom she came into contact, weakly allowed herself to be persuaded into paying her court to Their Majesties whom she now thoroughly detested, and whom she must have exulted in defying. " I waited therefore on my mistress to Kensington," she says, and adds significantly, " The consequence was such as my 1 88 trbe Queen's Comrabe friends having no reason to apprehend it, had never thought of." At the entrance of the stout and timid Princess, followed by the commanding figure of her aggressive favourite into the royal drawing-room, a hush fell on the courtiers, William's thin lips closed ominously, looks of indignation flashed in Mary's eyes, whilst the frightened Anne after a kw preliminary words sank into a chair, the offender standing behind her, self- possessed, unbending and haughty. An hour of con straint and embarrassment followed ; the Queen having few words for her sister and none for the intruder, nervousness felt by all except by her who was its cause. The following morning a letter dated February 5 th, 1692, was put Into the Princess's hands written by the Queen, in which Her Majesty stated that having something to say which she knew would not be pleasing, she chose to write it first, being unwilling to surprise her sister ; " though I think," she adds, " what I am going to tell you should not, if you give yourself time to think that never anybody was suffered to live at Court in Lord Marlborough's circumstances. I need not repeat the cause he has given the King to do what he has done, nor his unwiUingness at all times to come to extremities, though people do deserve it." This sentence must have given the correspondents of King James some alarm ; but it was the only reference to Lord Marlborough's dismissal In this letter, which continued, " I hope you do me the /Diars's Xetter to anne 189 justice to believe, it is much against my will, that I now tell you, that after this it is very unfit Lady Marlborough should stay with you, since that gives her husband so just a pretence of being where he ought not. I think I might have expected you should have spoke to me of it; and the King and I both believing it, made us stay thus long ; but seeing you was so far from it, that you brought Lady Marlborough hither last night, makes us resolve to put it off no longer, but tell you she must not stay ; and that I have all reason imaginable to look upon your bringing her, as the strangest thing that ever was done. Nor could all my kindness for you (which is ever ready to turn all you do the best way, at any other time) have hindered me shewing you that moment, but I considered your condition, and that made me master myself so far, as not to take notice of it then. " But now I must teU you, it was very unkind in a sister, would have been very uncivil in an equal, and I need not say I have more to claim ; which though my kindness would make me never exact, yet when I see the use you would make of it, I must tell you I know what is due to me, and expect to have it from you. 'Tis upon that account I tell you plainly Lady Marlborough must not continue with you in the circumstances her lord Is in." The Queen well knew how difficult it would be for Anne to obey her command ; and to help her by gentler words she continued. I90 trbe Queen's Comrabe "I know this wiU be imeasy to you, and I am sorry for it ; and it is very much so to me to say aU this to you, for I have all the real kindness imaginable for vou, and as I ever have, so will always do my part to Uve with you as sisters ought ; that is not only Uke so near relations but Uke friends. And as such I did think to write to you ; for I would have made myself beUeve your kindness for her made you at first forget that you should have for the King and me ; and resolved to put you in mind of it myself, neither of us being wiUing to come to harsher ways. But the sight of Lady Marlborough having changed mv thoughts, does naturaUy alter my st\de. And since by that I see how Uttie you seem to consider what even in common civiUty you owe us, I have told it vou plainly ; but withal assure you, that let me have never so much reason to take any thing UI of you, my kindness is so great, that I can pass over most things, and live with you as becomes me. And I desire to do so merely from that motive ; for I do love you as my sister, and nothing but yourself can make me do otherwise. And that is the reason I choose to write this, rather than teU it you, that you may overcome your first thoughts, and when you have weU considered, you wUl find that though the thing be hard (which I again assure you I am sorry for) yet it is not unreasonable, but what has ever been practised, and what you yourself would do, were you in my place." Great stress is laid by Mary on her kindness anne's IRepli^ to Ifbavs 191 towards Anne but in what it consisted, is not seen ; whilst from this time forward the Queen behaved towards her sister with a harshness and vindictiveness surprising in one who could boast of such tenderness. The letter concludes by desiring Anne to consider impartiaUy what has been said ; not to reply quickly lest her answer should be rash, and to beUeve the writer her loving and affectionate sister. This letter alarmed and agitated Anne, then close on one of her seventeen confinements, but did not / change her resolution never to part with her favourite.-' That it enraged the latter need not be said. In her; bitterness she recalled the hopes Mary had expressed in her letters to " her kind dear friend " that she would never leave the Princess's service ; and declared that from the honour paid her by the Queen on Her Majesty's first coming to England, she could have laid the foundation of her fortunes could she have been tempted to betray her friendship for Anne. Consultations and protestations, tears and plots followed the frequent readings of Mary's communication, until after many debates and alterations the following reply was decided on. "Your Majesty was in the right to think your letter would be very surprising to me. For you must needs be sensible enough of the kindness I have for my Lady Marlborough to know that a command from you to part with her must be the greatest mortification in the world to me ; and indeed of such a nature, as I might weU have hoped your 192 tCbe Queen's Comrabe kindness to me would have always prevented. I am satisfied she cannot have been guilty of any fault to you. And it would be extremely to her advantage if I could here repeat every word that ever she had said to me of you in her whole life. I confess it is no small addition to my trouble to find the want of your Majesty's kindness to me upon this occasion ; since I am sure I have always endeavoured to deserve it by all the actions of my life. " Your care of my present condition is extremely obliging. And if you would be pleased to add to it so far as upon my account to recal your severe command (as I must beg leave to caU it in a matter so tender to me, and so little reasonable as I think to be imposed upon me that you would scarce require it from the meanest of your subjects) I should ever acknowledge it as a very agreeable mark of your kindness to me. And I must as freely own, that as I think this proceeding can be for no other intent than to give me a very sensible mortification, so there is no misery that I cannot readily resolve to suffer, rather than the thoughts of parting with her. If after all this that I have said, I must stiU find myself so unhappy as to be farther pressed In the matter, yet your majesty may be assured that, as my past actions have given the greatest testimony of my respect both for the King and you, so it shall always be my endeavour, wherever I am, to preserve it carefully for the time to come, as becomes your majesty's very affectionate sister and servant Anne." anne's /Ibortification 193 The question now arose as to the person who should be entrusted with this reply to the Queen ; and after some consideration Anne selected her maternal uncle Laurence Hyde, lately created Lord Rochester, a younger brother of Lord Clarendon. Acting in opposi tion to the wishes of the latter. Lord Rochester had acknowledged William and Mary as his sovereigns by taking the oath of allegiance to them and was now high in their favour. A fussy man " with a singular taste for trifling ceremonies," he had always opposed Lady Marlborough and had shown little affection for Anne whose shallow nature he despised. When Lord Rochester read the letter he refused to deliver It, much to Anne's vexation. She asked him however to use his Interest on her behalf with the Queen, when he promised to speak to Her Majesty on the subject. The communication was then sent to Kensington Palace by one of the Princess's servants. The only reply Mary deigned to make was to send an official message by her Lord Chamberlain forbidding Lady Marlborough's residence at the Cockpit. Anne's mortification now knew no bounds. That she was not allowed to keep her friends or servants in her own house, given her by her uncle Charles II., seemed a gross perversion of the royal power ; but whilst doubting whether it could be executed, she re solved to leave the Cockpit, rather than part with Lady Marlborough. Io add to her troubles the Princess's accouchement was drawing near. At such times it was her custom to retire to St. James's or Hampton Court VOL. L 13 194 trbe Queen's Comrabe Palace ; but knowing her favourite would not be permitted to attend her in the royal residences, and being unwiUing to accept any favours from Their Majesties, she determined to find another residence. Therefore she sent for the Duchess of Somerset and asked that she might have her residence, Sion House near Brentford, for a short time, which her grace after consulting her husband placed at the Princess's service. But no sooner did news of Anne's intention reach the royal ears, than William, who as Sir John Dalrymple says " entered into the quarrels of women, as if he had been one," immediately sent for the Duke of Somerset and strove to dissuade him from lending his house to Anne. It is probable that WiUiam was unacquainted with the character of Charles Seymour, known as the proud Duke of Somerset, or he would not have asked him to recaU his word. His Grace, the sixth duke of his line, was at this time about thirty years old. Of middle stature, excellent figure and dark complexion, his manner was haughty and his bearing dignified. The fact of his having royal blood in his veins probably accounted for that " unbounded pride which carried him to very indecent lengths, and made him seem," to quote the words of Granger, " Uttie less in his conduct than if vested with royal honours." Charles II. had made him a Knight of the Garter ; he had been Lord Chamberlain and Gentleman of the Bedchamber to James II. until discharged from these lElisabetb ^ercs 195 offices for refusing to introduce the papal nuncio ; and he had aided the Revolution. Amongst other distinctions he had that of taking to wife one who had been thrice married and twice widowed before reaching her sixteenth year. This was Lady Elizabeth Percy, only child and sole heiress of Josceline, eleventh Earl of Northumberland. At the age of four she had succeeded to the honours and estates of the great house of Percy, holding in her own right six of the oldest baronies in the kingdom. This child had been brought up by her grandmother the Dowager- Countess, who in February 1677 had refused her ward's hand to Charles II. for his son the Duke of Richmond ; and a few weeks later bestowed the heiress on Henry Cavendish, Earl of Ogle, a sickly boy of fifteen, " one of the ugliest and saddest creatures " living. Immediately after the ceremony he had set out on his travels which were to last two years, but had died before twelve months elapsed ; when the old Countess arranged another match for her granddaughter, this time selecting as a husband Thomas Thynne of Longleat in Wiltshire, a battered old rake known to his boon companions as " Tom of ten thousand." So frightened was the young bride of her lord, that soon after the wedding she fled from him and took refuge with her friend Lady Temple, at The Hague. Here It was she met Count Charles Koningsmark who feU in love with her ; but knowing he would gain possession neither of herself nor of her vast wealth whilst her husband lived, he hired ruffians to assassinate Tom Thynne which they 196 Zbc Queen's Comrabe did by firing a blunderbus loaded with slugs at him whilst riding in his coach at midday through PaU MaU on February I2th, 1682. The ruffians were taken and executed but the Count escaped. He had not however the satisfaction of marrying the heiress, who three months later became the wife of the Duke of Somerset, a duU man inflated by inordinate pride. From aU who approached him he expected a profound respect not always exacted by royalty, and insisted on being treated with abject deference and submission by his daughters. Amongst their other duties they were appointed to stand and watch over him whUst he slept in the afternoon. On one occasion Lady Charlotte being tired, ventured to sit down, when her father unexpectedly opened his eves and angrily reproaching her, declared he would make her remember " her want of decorum." That he never forgave this offence was shown when many years later he made his wiU ; in which he left her twenty thousand pounds less than he gave her sisters. His pride was such that he never deigned to speak to his servants who were trained to obey him by signs ; and when he traveUed the roads were cleared that he might pass without obstruction or observation. On one occasion the advance guard whose duty it was to clear the highway, overtook a countryman driving a hog, and peremptorily ordered him to be gone. The boor asked why, and was told, " Because my lord Duke of Somerset is coming and he does not like to be looked upon" ; hearing which the sturdy feUow seized his hog "/lbs pig sball see ibim too" 197 by the ears and before he could be hindered held him up to the coach window saying " I wiU see him and my pig shall see him too." It was not likely that the Dutch King could induce this proud English gentleman to break his word, and accordingly WiUiam was told that the Princess should have the use of Sion House as already promised to her. The King was mortified but the Princess was triumphant, and a few days later took up her residence in the Duke's mansion, carrying with her the object of the royal aversion. Before quitting town the Princess waited on Her Majesty, " making aU the professions that could be imagined, to which the Queen was as insensible as a statue. When she did answer her it was in the style of her letter," as Lady Marlborough states. As a word of fareweU Anne wrote to her sister — " I am very sorry to find that all I have said myself, and my Lord Rochester for me, has not had effect enough to keep your majesty from persisting In a resolution which you are satisfied must be so great a mortification to me, as to avoid It, I shall be obliged to retire and deprive myself of the satisfaction of living where I might have frequent opportunities of assuring you of that duty and respect, which I always have been, and shaU be desirous to pay you on aU occasions. " My only consolation In this extremity is, that not having done anything In all my life to deserve your unkindness, I hope I shall not be long under the necessity of absenting myself from you ; the thought 198 trbe Queen's Comrabe of which is so uneasy to me, that I find myself too much indisposed to give your majesty any further trouble at this time." These letters so unUke Anne's less poUte and poUric style were evidently dictated to her and intended for publication should occasion offer for them to be shown ; for the frequent slights put upon her by Their Majesties, and their treatment of her at a time when peace and kindness were caUed for by her condition, gained her a degree of sympathy which was proportionate to the disloyalty felt towards the King and Queen. And that they did not openly own that their displeasure with her chiefly arose from her correspondence with her father, was because they knew fuU well such a revelation would fan the flames of rebeUion against themselves which were ready to break out in every part of the kingdom. What Mary's thoughts were regarding the quarrel, are stated with her usual feelings of self-righteousness in her private journal, and at the same time with the only touch of remorse which can be found in any writing she has left. " Anne," she says, " was told in aU the gentle and kind wais that could be thought of, that she must part with Lady Marlborough, she retired to Sion, and shewed great passion and kindness for her, and so much indifference and coldness to me that it reaUy went to my heart. But when I saw no kindness could worck upon her, but afterwards when she had time to consider, and that I did what I could Iking leaves for Ibollanb 199 towards a reconcilliation without effect, it made me change quite and grow (at least endeavour to grow) as indifferent as she. But in all this I see the hand of God, and look on our disagreeing as a punishment on us for the irregularity by us committed upon the Revolution. " My husband did his duty and the nation did theirs, and we were to suffer it, and rejoice that it pleased God to do what he did. But as to our persons it Is not as it ought to be, tho' it was unavoidable, and no doubt that it is a just judgment of God, but I trust the Church and nation shall not suffer, but that we in our private concerns and persons may bear the punish ment as in this we do." The King left for Holland once more on March 5th, and before his return many important events happened In the nation and in his family. CHAPTER VIII The Queen has an Inward Fever — Anne is brought close to Death — Message to Mary Who visits the Invalid — Lady Marlborough's Removal insisted on — The Princess's Answer — Her Majesty feels Compunc tion — Courtiers forbidden to call on Anne — She is deprived of Her Guards — Lady Marlborough wishes to leave Her Service — Of which Anne will not hear — Lord Marlborough is sent to the Tower — Conspiracies against the King — A Battle lost and won — James thinks the Hand of Heaven is against Him — Letter to Him from Anne — She writes to Lady Marlborough — The Princess employs the Bishop of Worcester — The Queen will not yield — Anne takes Berkeley House — Her Majesty's Orders to the Mayor of Bath — A Thing to be laughed at — Anne is robbed by Highwaymen — Lampoons — Lord Marlborough is released — Living at Berkeley House — Birth and Death of His Children. 301 CHAPTER VIII IN the first week in April 1692 an iUness compeUed the Queen to keep her chamber " several days with an inward feaver and very great weackness." It was, as she is careful to record, " the first time in twelve year I had missed going to church on the Lord's day, and God is my witness that was my greatest trouble. In my illness I found myself very much resigned though unwiUing to die, yet I flattered myself, that proceeded from my concerns for worldly matters, both for my debts lest people should be wronged, and for what might happen between the King and my sister." On the 17th of the same month Anne was brought close to death. After intense suffering she gave birth to a son whose life was limited to a few minutes. Before this happened she had sent Sir Benjamin Bathurst to present her humble duty to the Queen and acquaint her that she, Anne, was much worse than usual at such times ; but Her Gracious Majesty did not think fit to see the messenger, to send any reply, or to visit the sufferer. Undeterred by this 303 204 trbe Queen's Comrabe treatment Anne later on sent word that the infant born to her had died. Lady Charlotte Beverwaret who went to Kensington with the news, was obUged to wait some considerable time before she was admitted to the Queen, who hearing of the Princess's sad condition, promised to caU that afternoon at Sion House. And indeed before Lady Charlotte had been back many minutes, the Royal carriage came rattling up to the door, and presentiy Mary, taU and erect, her figure plump, her placid face elongated by double chins, swept into the room where Anne, pale and weak, lay cowering in a great four-poster bed shadowed by heavy curtains. The Queen went straight to the invalid's side, but without taking her hand, asking how she did, expressing sorrow for her condition, or grief for her loss, and said " I have made the first step by coming to you, and I now expect you should make the second by removing Lady Marlborough." Not expecting this subject would be introduced to distress her, Anne coiUd only moan at first, but pre sentiy found courage to answer, " That she had never in aU her life disobeyed her except in that one particular, which she hoped woiUd some time or other appear as unreasonable to her majesty as it did to her." Upon this the Queen, without deigning to speak another word, turned away. Of the Ladies in Waiting who accompanied her. Lady Scarborough who was an old friend of Lady Marlborough's behaved with some kindness to the invaUd, whUst Lady Derby, itwrs's Contrition 205 for whom Anne had secured the place of Groom of the Stole, neither came near nor made the slightest enquiry for her benefactress. As Mary was conducted in state to her carriage by the domesticated Dane, Prince George, she repeated to him what she had said to his wife, and left him, blandly smiling and bowing as the royal carriage went clattering down the drive. On returning home compunction seems to have stirred Her Majesty to remark, that she was sorry to have spoken as she did to her sister, who on the subject of their quarrel being broached, had " trembled and looked as white as the sheets." But Mary's contrition could not have lasted long, for she soon devised fresh indignities to punish the disobedient Anne : the first of them being to forbid all who valued her favour to wait on the Princess, the second was to deprive her of her guards. This worry coming so close upon her confinement, threw Anne into a violent fever which threatened her life. Knowing herself to be the cause of these quarrels between the royal sisters, and unwilling that Anne should suffer indignities and unkindness on her account. Lady Marlborough had from the first striven to persuade her mistress to allow her to leave her service ; for although, as she confesses, had she been in Anne's place she would not have compUed with the Queen's demands, " Yet I thought that in mine, I could not discharge what I owed to the Princess, without employing every argument my thoughts could suggest. 2o6 trbe Queen's Comrabe to prevail with her to part with me. But whenever I said anything that looked that way, she fell into the greatest passion of tenderness and weeping that Is possible to imagine. And though my situation at that time was so disagreeable to my temper, that could I have known how long it was to last, I could have chosen to go to the Indies sooner than to endure it, yet had I been to suffer a thousand deaths, I think I ought to have submitted rather than have gone from her against her wiU." Before Anne was quite convalescent both she and her favourite received a shock, when on the morning of May 5th, 1692, Lord Marlborough was arrested on a charge of high treason and sent to the Tower. At the same time warrants were issued against several peers known to be in sympathy with King James. As already stated, the conspiracy to send William and Mary back to HoUand, was ripe for execution in the early part of 1692 ; but it was not until February that the first note of alarm was sounded in England, when all seamen in the nation were ordered to offer themselves for enlistment with threats of punishment if they refused ; aU ships at home were made ready ; Parliament was hurriedly summoned ; the Militia of Westminster and the trained bands of London were reviewed in Hyde Park by the Queen ; whilst the Dutch Squadrons at Amsterdam, North Holland, and in Zealand, were quickly prepared, both navies being placed under the command of Admiral Russell. /Ibassacre of (Blencoe 207 The delay in striking a blow for James, lost nothing to that King ; for before sailing for HoUand WUliam had signed an order " that Nero himself would have had a horror of," which was duly executed on February 14th, 1692, when — owing to the fact that the chiefs of the Macdonald clan had, through misunderstanding and accident, failed to avail themselves as they had intended of the indemnity granted to such highland rebels as would take the oaths of allegiance to Their Majesties on or before January ist — over a hundred men, women and chUdren were massacred in cold blood and against all good faith in Glencoe. William's warrant, still preserved, to " extirpate that set of thieves," was felt to be characteristic of the man who on being asked at the siege of Waterford, how the sick and wounded prisoners should be disposed of, answered "Burn them"; a command that was literaUy obeyed, for a thousand unfortunate wretches, maimed and dying were penned into a building that suddenly burst into flames and roasted to death — by accident as It was afterwards explained. Detestation of William in Scotland and Ireland, made thousands prepare to fight for King James and throw off the rule of one they regarded as a monster. In the month of May a French fleet was ready to convey the exiled King and a large body of his troops to England, where his landing was looked forward to with hope and satisfaction by numbers who only a few years before had driven him from his throne. 2o8 trbe Queen's Comrabe Amongst those who had been brought into corre spondence with King James through the agency of Lord Marlborough, was Admiral Russell, a rough and ready son of the sea ; who although he had been amongst those who invited WUUam to England, was now, like most of them, anxious to see him safely back in HoUand. In writing to James, Russell made him two proposals ; either that the invasion should be delayed until winter, when the Admiral meanwhile would ' dismiss several of his captains who were not loyal to the exile and supply their places with those who were ; or if it took place immediately, that the French ships should sail direct for England whilst he was disembarking his troops on the coast of France ; his object being to prevent a meeting of the hostUe fleets ; for Russell repeated over and over again, that as he was an officer and an Englishman, he would fire on the first French ship he met though he saw James on the quarter-deck. On May i8th, 1692, a fortnight after Lord Marl borough's arrest, the English fleet set sail. A series of disasters for James's cause followed, amongst them being the delay of warnings, contrary winds, misunder standings and jealousies. Notwithstanding RusseU's intimation, which James had kept to himself, the fleets met, the great battle of La Hogue was fought, and such hope as the exiled monarch had of regaining his kingdom, vanished like the smoke from the combatants' cannon. It was on the fifth day of the struggle that watching from the shore some particularly courageous -v^ ftburs rewarbs Iber Sailors 209 deed of the British sailors, he exclaimed " Ah none but my brave English could do such an act." And later when Sir Charles Littleton said he was ashamed that his son should side with the Prince of Orange, James with a sad smile answered, " Alas Sir Charles why ashamed ? Are not my daughters with him ? " When all was ended he retired to his tent in despair, feeling as he remarked, that the hand of Heaven was against him. There he received a letter from the Princess Anne, full of tenderness and contrition. She could, she said, " ask for his forgiveness because being his daughter she could hope for it, but how could she ask him to present her duty to the Queen." She concluded by saying she would fly to him as soon as he landed, a promise which now could never be fulfiUed. It is amusing to learn that Admiral Russell ordered that solemn prayers should be said throughout the fleet in thanksgiving for the victory, and more satisfactory to know that Mary then in charge of the kingdom during William's absence in Holland, rewarded the bravery of the sailors by giving them thirty thousand pounds. Lord Marlborough's arrest was not unforeseen by himself or his wife, who at the time it took place was with him in town. On her leaving Sion House, Anne wrote to her absent favourite, " I really long to know how my dear Mrs. Freeman got home ; and now I have this opportunity of writing, she must give me leave to tell her, if she should ever be so cruel to leave her faithful Mrs. Morley, she wiU rob her of the joy of her life ; for if that day should come, I should never enjoy VOL. I. 14 2IO trbe Queen's Comrabe another happy minute ; and I swear to you I would shut myself up and never see a creature." Then came news of the Earl's arrest, with a hint that her own liberty might be curtailed. On this she wrote at once, " I hear Lord Marlborough is sent to the Tower, and though I am certain they have nothing against him, and expected by your letter it would be so, yet I was struck when I was told it ; for methinks it is a dismal thing to have one's friends sent to that place. I have a thousand melancholy thoughts, and cannot help fearing they should hinder you from coming to me ; though how they can do that, without making you a prisoner, I cannot imagine. I am just told by pretty good hands that as soon as the wind turns westerly, there wiU be a guard set upon the Prince and me. If you hear there is any such thing designed, and that 'tis easy to you, pray let me see you before the wind changes ; for afterwards one does not know whether they will let one have opportunities of speaking to one another. But let them do what they please, nothing shall ever vex me so long as I can have the satisfaction of seeing dear Mrs. Freeman ; and I swear I would live on bread and water between four walls with her without repining ; for so long as you continue kind, nothing can ever be a real mortification to your faithful Mrs. Morley, who wishes she may never enjoy a moment's happiness in this world, or in the next if ever she proves false to you." Other letters written by Anne to Lady Marlborough at this time are full of devotion. In one she says that trbe Bisbop of tRUorcester an if it is not convenient for the Countess to answer the note sent, she is to keep the bearer until it is, or to send a word or two for she humbly adds, " I would not be a constraint to you at any time much less now when you have so many things to do and think of. All I desire to hear from you at such a time as this, is that you and yours are well, which next to having my Lord Marl borough out of his enemies' power, is best news that can come to her who to the last moment of her life will be dear Mrs. Freeman's." Again she writes to know when she could see Lady Marlborough. All days are alike to her and she would journey to town whenever an appointment was fixed for their meeting. Mean while Anne, still anxious to live on friendly terms with her sister, whilst unwiUing to submit to the command on which that friendship could alone be gained, sent for Dr. StiHingfleet Bishop of Worcester and asked him to serve as a mediator between them, at the same time giving him a letter to the Queen in which she begged that they might be reconciled. The Princess's account of the Bishop's visit, written to Lady Marlborough and preserved in the Coxe manuscripts is full of interest. " The Bishop of Worcester was with me this morning before I was dress'd," she writes ; " I gave him my letter to the Queen and he has promised to second it, and seemed to undertake it very wiUingly though by all the discourse I had with him (of which I will give you a particular account when I see you) I find him very partial to her. The last time he was here I told him you had several times desired you might go from me. 212 trbe Queen's Comrabe and I repeated the same thing again to him. For you may easUy imagine I would not neglect doing you right upon aU occasions. But I beg it again for Christ Jesus's sake, that you would never name it any more to me. For be assured if you should ever do so cruel a thing as to leave me, from that moment I shoiUd never enjoy one quiet hour. And shoxUd you do it without asking my consent (which if ever I give you may I never see the face of heaven) I will shut myself up and never see the world more, but Uve where I may be forgotten by human kind." The letter to the Queen, dated May 20th, 1692, says, " I have now God be thanked recovered my strength weU enough to go abroad. And though my duty and inclination would both lead me to wait upon your majesty as soon as I am able to do it, yet I have of late had the misfortune of being so much under your majesty's displeasure, as to apprehend there may be hard constructions made upon anything I either do or not do with the most respectful intentions. And I am in doubt whether the same arguments that have pre- vaUed with your majesty to forbid people from showing their usual respects to me, may not be carried so much farther, as not to permit me to pay my duty to you. " That I acknowledge would be a great increase of affliction to me, and nothing but your majesty's own command shaU ever wUUngly make me submit to it. For whatever reason I may think in my own mind I have to complain of being hardly used, yet I wiU strive to hide it, as much as possible. And though /flbarp's Commanbs to anne 213 I wiU not pretend to live at the Cockpit, unless you would be so kind as to make It easy to me, yet wherever I am, I will endeavour always to give the constant marks of duty and respect which I have in my heart for your majesty as becomes your majesty's very affectionate sister and servant." This letter, chiefly written to discover if a residence at the Cockpit might be made agreeable to its owner by the royal permission to reinstate Lady Marlborough there, was answered the following day in no very con ciliatory terms. The Queen began by stating she had little to say as she never used compliments, which would now be useless between them. The fault was not hers, the self-righteous Mary continued, that they did not live in harmony ; and mere words could not make them do so. " You know what I require of you," she says, " and I now tell you if you doubted it before, that I cannot change my mind, but expect to be com plied with, or you must not wonder if I doubt of your kindness. You can give me no other marks that will satisfy me ; nor can I put any other construction upon your actions than what all the world must do that sees them." This communication was brought by the Bishop of Worcester, who from the little he said showed that he was not so satisfied with the Queen as he had been, which Anne was not displeased to note. He promised that he would bear witness to aU and sundry, that she had made every reasonable advance to Her Majesty. Though in writing to her sister, Anne had declared she 214 trbe Queen's Comrabe would conceal her hard usage as much as possible, she now in her letter to Lady Marlborough states, " I con fess I think the more it is told about, that I would have waited on the Queen, but that she refused seeing me, it is the better ; and therefore I will not scruple saying it to any body when it comes in my way." This was written a day or two after news had reached London of the defeat of her father at La Hogue, when Lady FItzhardIng, still an unsuspected spy in Anne's house hold, urged her mistress to send congratulations to Her Majesty, but neither the Princess nor her husband now thought well of doing so, " especially," says Anne, " since I received this arbitrary letter. I don't send you the original for fear any accident might happen to the bearer ; for I love to keep such letters by me for my own justification. Sure never anybody was used so by a sister ; but I thank God I have nothing to reproach myself withal in this business, but the more I think of all that has passed, the better I am satisfied. And if I had done otherwise, I should have deserved to have been the scorn of the world, and to be trampled upon as much as my enemies would have me." Then she bids farewell to her dear Mrs. Freeman, adding with her usual enthusiastic affection for her favourite, " I hope in Christ you will never think more of leaving me, for I would be sacrificed to do you the least service, and nothing but death can ever make me part with you ; for if it be possible I am every day more and more yours." Notwithstanding all these emotional protestations. 3Lab^ ilbarlborougb wisbes to retire 215 Lady Marlborough — still in London where she busied herself in striving to obtain baU for her lord — begged once more that Anne would allow her to retire, for if the Princess continued to defy Their Majesties, it was possible they might strive to punish her still more by reducing her revenue. The Countess urged that Prince George might be consulted on this point, of such importance to both. Alarmed by fresh fears of losing her favourite, Anne wrote back in hot haste, that in obedience to her dear Mrs. Freeman she had spoken to the Prince about her leaving them, and he was so far from wishing It, that had there been any necessity, he would have strengthened his wife in her resolution of retaining her fi-iend, " and we both beg," she adds, " you would never mention so cruel a thing any more." As for the fear of their revenue being reduced, Anne was quite prepared to suffer such a loss in return for such a gain. " Can you think either of us so wretched," said she in a fine burst of scorn, " that for the sake of twenty thousand pounds — and to be tormented from morning to night with flattering knaves and fools — we should forsake those we have such obligations to, and that we are so certain we are the occasion of all their misfortunes .'' Besides can you beUeve we will truckle to Caliban, who from the first moment of his coming, has used us at that rate, as we are sensible he has done, and that all the world can witness .''... But suppose I did submit, and that the King could change his nature so much as to use me with humanity. 2x6 trbe Queen's Comrabe how would all reasonable people despise me ? How would that Dutch monster laugh at me and please himself with having got the better ? And which is much more, how would my conscience reproach me, for having sacrificed it, my honour, reputation and all the substantial comforts of this life for transitory interest, which even to those who make it their idol, can never afford any real satisfaction, much less to a virtuous mind. . . . Once more give me leave to beg you would be so kind never to speak of parting more, for let what wUl happen, that is the only thing can make me miserable." No attempt was made to reduce the Princess's revenue, or possibly she and her Jacobite friends would have raised a storm that must certainly have proved disagreeable if not dangerous to Their Majesties ; but petty spite was shown in various ways by the Court. For one thing the clergyman of the church where Anne used to worship, was forbidden to lay the text upon her cushion, as was the custom with royalty, or take any more notice of her than of other people, which he refused to do until he received a written order from the Court, which for shame's sake was withheld. The Queen was more successful in gaining the obedience of the friends and relatives of her Ladies in Waiting and Women of the Bedchamber, to whom the latter had conveyed Mary's command that Anne was not to be visited. There was one however who rebelled against this order, a certain Lady Grace Pierpoint to whom the Queen despatched a message trbe Dufte of Gloucester 217 desiring she should not visit the Princess ; or if she did that she need not wait on Her Majesty, for " she would not see anybody that went to her sister " : to which Lady Grace replied that " she thought she owed a respect to the Princess who had treated her civilly, and if Her Majesty would not allow her to pay her duty to her, she would go no more to the Queen but oftener to the Princess." As she would not be allowed to take Lady Marlborough back to the Cockpit, Anne decided to lease or buy a town residence where she might have such friends or servants around her as she pleased, when Berkeley House was recommended to her. At the same time her doctors recommended her to drink the waters at Bath which it was hoped would complete her recovery. For some time past her son the Duke of Gloucester had been lodged at Camden House, which being near Kensington Palace was convenient for Their Majesties to visit him, whilst at the same time its pure country air was considered suitable to his deUcate health. The boy's mother was permitted to see him here whenever she pleased, but her visits were often made a source of mortification to her ; for when the Queen's messengers came to make enquiries for him, they completely ignored her, and going directly up to the little Duke would make their speech to him, or to his nurse as he lay in her lap." In the following letter written to Lady Marlborough, Anne makes reference to her son and her future residence in a way that throws some light upon her Ufe at this time. 2x8 trbe Queen's Comrabe " I was yesterday at Berkeley House which I like very well, but my Lady looked so mightily out of humoure that I did not go into all the garretts nor the wings as I intended, and until she goes out of the house it will be impossible to order anything or see it at one's ease ; and when she will be pleased to remove God knows. The Lady (the Queen) that has now such a mind to go to the Bath, has I fancy spoke to Dr. Ratiiffe to persuade me to carry my boy thither, for yesterday without my asking him any thing about it, he said I might have the child at a house within three miles of the Bath, for it would be more for my satisfaction than to leave him behind me, and the journey could do him no harm. If I were sure these were his own thoughts, and that the journey was not too great for my boy, I should be mightily tempted to cary him ; but since Camden House agrees so well with him, and that there is so much reason to beUeve peopl considers there own satisfaction more than mine or then they do the child's good, I think I had better be from him five or six weeks then run the hazard of his meeting with an accident that one may have cause to repent of one's whole life." Anne made her journey to Bath leaving her boy behind, and was received by the courtesies paid to royalty by the Mayor, an honest tallow-chandler, who soon received a letter from Lord Nottingham, Secretary of State, forbidding him in future to pay the Princess any respect or ceremony " without leave from her Zbt Uiogal Quarrel 219 majesty, who does not doubt of receiving from you and your brethren, this public mark of your duty." Anne thought this a thing to be laughed at. " And," she writes to Lady Marlborough, " if they (the King and Queen) imagine either to vex me or gain upon me by such sort of usage, they will be mightily disap pointed. And I hope these foolish things they do, wiU everyday show people more and more what they are, and that they truly deserve the name your faithful Morley has given them." The nickname she gave their Majesties is not discoverable in her correspondence. The treatment of the heir to the crown caused general indignation amongst that large section who were not favourably disposed to the occupiers of the throne ; an indignation that reached its climax when on her return to town, Anne, no longer protected by her guards, was waylaid by highwaymen and robbed. The royal quarrel was a subject gladly seized by the lampooners of the day to amuse the town and bring ridicule on Their Majesties. Witty couplets were repeated from mouth to mouth, and ballads were passed from hand to hand, at which Anne laughed heartily when they did not attack her favourite or refer to her rotund figure, her enormous appetite, or the part she had played in the Revolution, a sore subject to her now. One parody in plain prose, found amongst the Lansdowne papers, and supposed to be the Earl of Nottingham's orders to Mr. Dives, clerk of the councU, is given as a sample. The public beUman is charged " not to pay the ceremony to the Princess on 220 trbe Queen's Comrabe his night walk, as he usually does to the rest of their majesties' subjects, that are not under their majesties' displeasure. Ye are to charge him to take care of thieves and robbers, but to waive that part of his duty to the Princess, for since her guards are taken off, she is neither to be regarded by day nor guarded by night. Any one is to rob her who may choose to be at the trouble. Ye are to acquaint him that his majesty's displeasure is so great against the Princess, that his government designs to stop her revenue and starve her, as well as any other Jacobites, into humble submission." Whilst the royal squabbles were going on Lord Marlborough remained in the Tower, having been arrested, as will be remembered, on a charge of high treason. This had been preferred against him and the Bishop of Rochester, on the evidence of a man named Young, who had already been imprisoned for perjury and forgery and was at this time an Inmate of Newgate. This scoundrel who had a dangerous talent for imitating handwriting, had drawn up a " document of association " in favour of King James, to which he forged the names of Lord Marlborough, the Bishop of Rochester and various others. He also forged several treasonable letters bearing Marlborough's name. These, with the aid of another rogue named Stephen Blackhead, were hidden in the bishop's palace at Bromley In Kent. Young then gave information of a conspiracy and revealed where evidence of the same might be found. Before a peer could be imprisoned on such a charge l^oung is liberateb 221 it was necessary that an affidavit of his treason should be made ; but this difficulty was overcome by Marl borough's enemy Lord Romney liberating Young In order to make him legal evidence ; for as a Court lawyer said, Young " not having lost his ears was an irreproachable witness." When the warrant for Lord Marlborough's arrest was presented to the Cabinet for its approbation. Lords Devonshire, Bradford and Montagu, mindful of Young's evil reputation, refused to sign it, which was however done by the other members, and duly executed. The Bishop and Lord Marlborough from the first disclaimed all knowledge of the papers and letters said to bear their signatures ; and on Young being brought face to face with the men he accused, his evidence completely broke down. Later, when the forger had run the length of his tether and was about to be hanged, he confessed that he had obtained Lord Marlborough's seal and signature by writing to him as a country gentleman who desired information regarding a servant he was about to hire. But the Queen was In no hurry to release Lord Marlborough. " I am sorry with all my heart dear Mrs. Freeman meets with so many delays," writes Anne, " but it is a comfort they cannot keep Lord Marlborough in the Tower longer than the end of the term ; and I hope when the parliament sits, care will be taken that people may not be clapt up for nothing, or else there wiU be no Uving In quiet for anybody, but insolent Dutch, and sneaking mercenary Englishmen." 222 trbe Queen's Comrabe On the last day of the term, June 15th, 1692, three weeks after the battle of La Hogue and King James's defeat, Lord Marlborough was admitted to bail. Lords Halifax and Shrewsbury acting as his sureties ; a service for which William on his return to England in October, rewarded them by erasing their names from the list of Privy Councillors, as well as that of Marlborough. Anne had by this time leased Berkeley House which occupied the present site of Devonshire House, and was at this period and until the end of the seventeenth century the last house in Piccadilly. In this spacious mansion which was backed by handsome gardens and surrounded by noble trees, Anne held her modest Court which now included Lord Marlborough. And as he had been deprived of aU offices civil and military and of the incomes depending on them, the Princess generously offered to create a place for him in her household with a salary of a thousand a year, which he graciously but firmly declined. The Marlboroughs at this time had no town residence of their own, and when not at St. Albans lived in the apartments given them by the Princess of Denmark, either at the Cockpit when she resided there or at Berkeley House ; aU requisites even to linen and silver being supplied them by their liberal and affectionate mistress. Such an arrangement as this must have been extremely satisfactory to Lord Marlborough, who from his early days had been careful of his money ; to spare which he now neither /Ibarlborougb at St. aibans 223 entertained, gambled, nor drank in an age when extravagant living and hospitality were universal, when card-playing was the common amusement, and deep drinking was indulged in by aU men of rank from the King downwards. To be deprived of all civil and military employ ments and consequently of the salaries attached, must have been a heavy blow to him : but as he considered that all things were directed by destiny, he quietly submitted to his fate, and keeping apart from the intrigues of the Court spent the greater part of this time of enforced idleness at his house in St. Albans. Here in the pleasant gardens and orchards surrounding it, which are frequently and lovingly mentioned in his correspondence from abroad, he spent many happy hours with his children to whom he was passionately attached. Here they were given to and taken from him ; for his firstborn Harriet died when about two years old and his fourth daughter, Elizabeth, commonly caUed Betty, was born on March 15th, 1687 ; and his fifth daughter Mary on July 15th, 1689, a few months after the Revolution, when Lord Marlborough and his wife stood well in Their Majesties' favour and the Queen acted as one of the sponsors of this child named after her. Two years later their last infant was born, on August 19th, 1690, and christened Charles ; but he died within two years of his birth at a time when his father was In the Tower. CHAPTER IX Fresh Endeavours to remove the Marlboroughs from the Princess — She is a Queen and would be obeyed — Hostility continues between the Royal Sisters — The Queen takes ill — Dr. Tenison and His Sermon on Nell Gwyn — Her Majesty destroys Her Private Papers and Letters — Anne hears of Her Sister's Illness — Offers to wait on Her — Receives a Cold Reply — The King's Concern for His Wife — Is told of Her Danger — Mary directs Her Private Letter to the King may be given Him after Her Death — Her Mind wanders — Her Instructions to the Archbishop — Her Death — Dr. Tenison delivers His Message to William who promises Amendment — The Archbishop's Sermon — The "Babbling" Bishop reproves the King — Mary is mourned by Her Father — Anne makes Overtures to His Majesty — Reconcilement follows — Her Interview at Ken sington Palace — The Action of Inferior Figures. VOL. I. "S IS CHAPTER IX THAT Lord Marlborough and his wife should continue in Anne's favour in spite of Mary's wishes and anger, was intolerable to Her Majesty ; and fresh endeavours were made to oust them from her service. For this purpose Mr. Maule, Gentleman of the Bedchamber to Prince George, strove to persuade him of the advantages he and the Princess would gain by parting with the Marlboroughs ; whilst Lady FItz hardIng and Sir Benjamin Bathurst used their arts and their eloquence to induce Anne to send them away. And meantime Lord Rochester, courteous and suave, came and went between his royal nieces, deploring their quarrels and imploring them to make peace. In one of his interviews with the Princess he hinted that If she complied with the Queen's wishes in dis missing Lady Marlborough, he was sure Her Majesty would allow her to take back the favourite into her service after a little time. Now though Anne thought this project " as nothing more than a new civil plot of my Lord Rochester's," she was unwilling to be outdone in policy. Selecting Lady Fitzharding — who 237 228 trbe Queen's Comrabe from motives which Their Majesties could best explain retained the royal favour though in the service of Anne — she sent to the Queen asking a clear explanation on the point, and declaring that If Lord Rochester was correct in his statements she the Princess " should be very ready to give her majesty any satisfaction of that sort." On hearing this Mary's usual placidity was broken through, and In an outburst of anger she said she would never see her sister on any other terms than parting with Lady Marlborough, not for a time but for ever ; adding with still greater vehemence, " she was a queen and would be obeyed." As a comment to this scene, a sentence from Her Majesty's journals and prayers for this year may be quoted : " I found myself wonderfully supported by the grace of God in all these things which befell me. Oh Lord increase me in all spiritual graces." After this the Berkeley House Court was awed into quietness if not into submission, and made no attempt at asserting itself until the King's return, when, under the semblance of duty but in reality in complaint of the Queen, Prince George sent " his humble duty to His Majesty and to acquaint him that the Princess having had the misfortune during his absence to receive many public marks of the Queen's displeasure, he did not know whether it were proper for him to come to His Majesty as formerly, without endeavouring first to receive His Majesty's commands, and to know how far it might be agreeable to him " ; to which message William returned no answer. Deatb of Dr. trillotson 229 Passive hostility continued between the sisters, Mary frowning at mention of Anne's name, forbidding all who valued her favour to call at Berkeley House, and passing the Princess as they drove in Hyde Park without deigning to notice her existence ; and the quarrel was only ended by death. It happened that on a gloomy day towards the end of November 1694, the Queen attended divine service at Whitehall Chapel, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Tillotson, officiating. As she listened to his prayers with bowed head she heard his words falter, a deep moan escape his lips, and raising her eyes saw him fall forwards struck by paralysis. He was carried speechless and unconscious to the vestry and died a few days later. The primate who had been appointed by Mary in place of Dr. Sancroft whom she had deposed, was a favourite of hers, and his tragic end deeply distressed and came home to her as a personal grief ; so that for some time she could not hear or mention his name without tears. It was now in her power for the second time during her reign, to raise another bishop to the high dignity of head of the Church, when her choice fell on Dr. Tenison, who had begun life as a physician but who had abandoned the cure of bodies for that of souls ' in which he found quicker advancement. This good man was a practical Christian, not averse to earning an honest penny, as Mary was reminded by Lord Jersey, who told Her Majesty that " Dr. Tenison had been much contemned for preaching a funeral sermon, 230 trbe Queen's Comrabe and at the same time pronouncing a high panegyric over a woman so infamous as NeU Gwyn, for the lucre of fifty pounds, which that person had provided for the purpose in her will." The Queen was much disturbed at having so grave an objection made to her choice ; but after seeking for some reason to justify herself, which caused an awkward pause, she replied " What then ? No doubt the poor woman was severely penitent, or I am sure by the good doctor's looks, he would have said nothing in her praise." The King had returned once more from HoUand on November I2th, and Christmas advanced, but the Queen never seems to have recovered from the shock of seeing the late primate stricken before her eyes. On December 19th, 1694, she complained of being iU ; remedies were taken and on the foUowing day she felt weU enough to venture out, but that evening she was worse. Four years previously when suffering from a sore throat, the Queen states in her journal that she believed herself in danger of death, " and was so well satisfied with it, that I was really rather glad then sorry." Always methodical she had on that occasion set her affairs in order, and she did the same on this : for throughout a silent and dreary night In December she sat in her cabinet in Kensington Palace, looking back with sorrowful eyes on the barren life from which she had been anxious to escape, on the unhappy part as a daughter and a wife she had been called upon to play, peering timidly Into the impenetrable future, reading over various personal communications, destroying /Ibarg's jfarewell Xetter 231 papers out of kindness, as Bishop Burnet says, to people whom they " would have committed, if seen after she was no more," and finally writing a farewell letter to her husband which she endorsed " Not to be delivered excepting in case of my death." In this letter Mary after long years of pathetic endurance and patient silence, poured out her heart in complaint of the wrongs she had borne from him throughout her wedded life, begged him to reform his morals, and to become reconcUed to God. This letter which was seen amongst others by Lord Dartmouth, was found years later amongst the papers stored in King WiUiam's box which Sir John Dalrymple was permitted to examine as materials for the History of Great Britain, so often quoted in these pages ; but Sir John out of respect for His Majesty's memory destroyed the Queen's letter, which he considered " Improper to be pubUshed." As might have been expected the Queen's condition was more critical next day, and Dr. Radcliffe, whose principles as a Jacobite were overlooked because of his skill as a physician, was hastily summoned. Great relief was felt when he declared Her Majesty was merely suffering from measles ; but as his treatment failed to benefit her. Dr. MUlIngton was consulted who stated that she was attacked by the dread scourge of that age, smaU-pox. As Mary, like her sister, was fond of good livirg and In consequence had grown portly of person, she was considered a bad subject for this disease, and little hopes were felt for her recovery. 232 trbe Queen's Comrabe As soon as she was made aware of her malady the Queen gave orders that several of her servants were not to come near her lest they should catch the infection, she fixed the time for prayers to be said in her own chamber, and caused a sermon to be read to her more than once. News of her illness was not communicated to her sister by any Court official, but reached Berkeley House through the gossip of the town. At this time Anne was once more expecting to become a mother and had been ordered by her doctor to remain quiet and lie " very much upon a couch." The tidings of Her Majesty's danger caused the Princess great agita tion ; for apart from the regret she might feel, Anne knew she would advance a step nearer to the throne in case her sister died. And as her royal mistress would gain by such an event so would my Lady Marlborough, who had little cause to love Her Majesty : so that both waited anxiously for further news. Even if her health had allowed it, the Princess would hardly have dared to call at Kensington Palace without permission. Indeed the strain between the two] Courts at this time was so great, that instead of sending one of the ladies or gentlemen of her suite to make enquiries on her behalf, Anne employed Lewis Jenkins, a worthy little Welshman in the service of her son the Duke of Gloucester, to question the Queen's laundress as to how Her Majesty did. The sanguine little Welshman brought good news of Mary, but next day when he again made enquiries anne wisbes to visit tbe Queen 233 regarding her he was told that " in consequence of being let blood, the smaU-pox had turned black, and that Her Majesty's death drew near, for nature was prevented from working her course." At this Anne no longer hesitated to send one of her ladies in waiting to express her humble duty to the Queen and her extreme concern for her Illness, and to add that " if Her Majesty would aUow her the happiness of waiting on her, she would, notwithstanding the condition she was in, run any hazard for that satisfaction." This conciliatory message was delivered to Lady Derby who carried it to Her Majesty, then engaged in praying and preparing to quit the world. After a time Lady Derby returned to say the King would send an answer next day. If Anne expected that the promised reply would contain permission to see the dying woman, or express affection or regret for the squabbles which had estranged them, she was disappointed. The letter which was written not by His Majesty, but by Lady Derby to Anne's messenger, said " I am commanded by the King and Queen to teU you, they desire you would let the Princess know they both thank her for sending and desiring to come ; but it being thought so necessary to keep the Queen as quiet as possible, hope she will defer it." The Inevitable postscript contained the following Une, " Pray madam, present my humble duty to the Princess." As the writer of this note, when waiting on the Queen during her visit to Anne's sick bed a few months previously. 234 trbe Queen's Comrabe had completely ignored the Princess, it was quite clear to Lady Marlborough that an irretrievable change was at hand. " This civU answer," writes the astute Countess, " and my Lady Derby's postscript, made me conclude more than if the college of physicians had told it me, that the disease was mortal. And as I knew that several people were aUowed to see the Queen, I was also fully persuaded that the de ferring the Princess's coming, was only to leave room for continuing the quarrel in case the Queen should chance to recover, or for reconciUation with the King (if that should be thought convenient) in case of the Queen's death." Refusing to be repulsed by this letter, Anne sent daUy to enquire for her sister, only to receive trite and civil replies. One of her messengers. Lady Fitz harding, who was dissatisfied with these, and who desired to see the Queen, forced her way into the presence of Her Majesty and told her how uneasy the Princess was, to which Mary returned no answer but a cold thanks. " Nor though she received the Sacrament in her iUness," says Lady Marlborough, " did she ever send the least message to the Princess, except that in my Lady Derby's letter, which perhaps Her Majesty knew nothing of." Meanwhile the Queen's apartments were crowded with courtiers and ministers of State busy in specu lating on the changes which Mary's death might bring ; with bishops and doctors in expectation of being summoned momentarily to give her ease of Milliam's IRemorse 235 body or soul. And amongst them William strode backwards and forwards, his face ghastly pale, his thin legs so weak as to seem unable to carry him, his head bowed. He was probably labouring under remorse for the past and fear for the future when having called Bishop Burnet Into his room he burst into tears and declared that " from being the happiest he was going to be the most miserable creature on earth." Having had smallpox In early life, the traces of which he carried with him, he had no fear of contagion, and stayed constantly with his wife ; and " although greatly addicted to the pleasures of eating," as a contemporary states, " he never tasted food during three successive dreadful days." When all hope was over Archbishop Tenison told him it was his duty to acquaint the Queen of her danger ; when William replied that " whatever effect it might have, he would not have her deceived in so important a matter." On the news being broken to the Queen she showed neither surprise nor terror, but replied " she thanked God she had always carried that in her mind, that nothing was to be left to the last hour ; she had nothing then to do but to look up to God, and submit to His will." She added, " that she had wrote her mind on many things to the King ; and she gave orders to look carefully for a small scrutoire that she made use of, which was in her closet, which was to be delivered to the King. Having despatched that care," says Burnet who writes these details, " she avoided giving herself 236 trbe Queen's Comrabe or her husband the tenderness which a final parting might have raised in them both." The Archbishop of Canterbury, attended by many bishops, gave her the Sacrament, after which she solemnly composed herself to die : but her time had not yet come. She slept and prayed by turns, and once or twice she strove to say something to WiUiam but her voice faltered. Although the courtier bishop states that she declined to say farewell to the King to avoid its painful effects, it Is possible that she, who had refused to see or to forgive her sister, and who had written her faithless husband the reproaches he so richly deserved, may not have desired to take leave of one who had treated her so badly. The day before her death her mind wandered at times, and she talked wUdly ; but in an interval of conscious ness she asked that all might leave her room save Dr. Tenison to whom she wished to speak. The courtiers withdrew surmising that at this dread moment when aU worldly things were fading from her, she wovJd send some message to her father, some word of affection to her sister, the relatives she once had loved and who had loved her ; but this was not her intention, for to the end her heart remained hard to them ; and the subject of her final interview with the primate can only be guessed at from the fact that after her death he constantly rebuked the King for his past infidelities and besought him to break off aU communication with Elizabeth Villiers. But though that which passed between them was kept secret, the Archbishop thought himself at Deatb of Queen ftbavs m liberty to speak of the hallucination which beset the dying woman towards the end of their interview, when staring anxiously at him she said, " I wish you to look behind that screen, for Dr. Radcliffe has put a Popish nurse upon me, and that woman is always listening to what I want to say ; she lurks behind that screen ; make her go away ; that woman is a great disturbance to me." Slowly the hours passed whilst King and courtiers came and went with soft tread and heavy looks, and the Queen muttered prayers and disjointed sentences between breaths that quickened to gasps ; until in the profound silence and universal expectancy that heralds a new day, she passed from the world on December 28th, 1694. The King who had already fainted several times, betrayed the greatest grief at her death, to the amaze ment of all ; nor were his feelings less bitter or less self- reproachful when the primate handed him Mary's letter and at the same time soundly reproved him for his unfaithfulness to his wife and entreated him to end his intrigue, which he promised faithfully should be done — though it is more than doubtful if his word was kept, when later on he held those orgies in his palace at Loo, which became the subject of letter writers and of grave complaint to the English people. However, on the faith of the King's promises, the Archbishop preached a sermon two days after the Queen's death, in the private Chapel at Kensington Palace for the benefit of His Majesty ; this sermon being " designed particularly to confirm him (the King) 238 trbe Queen's Comrabe in that resolution of seeing her (his mistress) no more," as Whiston relates. This discourse which was after wards published, had many divisions and sub-divisions and contained plentiful references to " the Harlot with her much fair speech " and of her victim who " went after her straightway as an ox goeth to the slaughter house, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks." His Majesty must have listened to this sermon with grim patience ; but his depressed mood seemed to present special opportunities for lectures, which were eagerly seized on by Gilbert Burnet, Bishop of Salisbury; who was generally spoken of as " a blab, a meddler and a lover of secrets he was unable to keep." His lordship who is described by Macky as " a large, bold-looked man, strong made with neither prudence nor temper," had run away with his first wife and married his third within a few months of the death of his second, securing much worldly profit with aU. At once a courtier and a politician, he had played the part of a sycophant to William, who In speaking of him to Lord Halifax said " hee wished hee knew everybody else as well as hee knew the Bishop of Salisbury who was a dangerous man and had no principles." With that burning zeal for the sinner's conversion which despises tact and sees in all times its opportunities, he treated WiUiam to many painful reflections and stirring sermons on his sins which he is careful to hint at in his history, and took to himself the glory of reforming the monarch who became very exact In going to church twice a day — for some time. James mourns for ibis Daugbter 239 Mary was not only mourned by the husband who had not loved her, but by the father whose throne she had usurped. On news of her death reaching him, James shut himself up in his apartments where he shed bitter tears, suffering, as he afterwards wrote, the additional affliction of knowing " that a child whom he loved so tenderly had persevered to her death in such a signal state of disobedience and disloyalty, and to find her extolled for crimes as if they were her highest virtues, by the mercenary flatterers around her." He refused however to wear black for her, and requested Louis XIV. not to put his Court Into mourning. The Queen's death also grieved Anne ; though it likewise produced another effect on her. During her quarrels with Mary she had continued to correspond with her father, but now when her own claim to the throne was brought near, she wished to make friends with the man she detested and whom she was pleased to call Caliban. Accordingly Lord Somers was despatched to sound His Majesty regarding a reconciliation. He found William at Kensington sitting alone at the end of his room so absorbed in his sorrow as at first to remain unaware that any one had entered. But presently, being addressed and urged to end all disunion between himself and the next heir to the throne, William replied, " My Lord do what you will ; I can think of no business." Anne's next move was made at the suggestion of Lord Sunderland who, as Dalrymple says, " was continually betraying and continually serving King WiUiam." 24© trbe Queen's Comrabe His advice that she should write His Majesty a letter of condolence was in opposition to Lady Marlborough's, who thought the Princess did too much to conciUate her royal relatives. " For," says the favourite, " I could not endure to have her do anything that I would not have done in her place. And aU the friends I ever had in my Ufe would not have prevaUed with me to make any one step, the Princess did, during the quarrel, except the first letter she wrote to the Queen and the last message of offering to come to her in her sickness." Arme however was not so high spirited, and knowing that her interests lay in reconciUation, she wrote to beg His Majesty's favourable acceptance of her sincere and hearty sorrow for his great affliction and loss ; and she assured him she was as sensible of this sad misfortime, as if she had never been so unhappy as to have occasioned the Queen displeasure. " It is my earnest desire," she continued, " Your Majesty woidd give me leave to wait upon you, as soon as it can be without inconveniency to you, and without danger of increasing your affliction, that I may have an opportunity myself not only of repeating this, but of assuring Your Majesty of my real intention to omit no occasion of giving you constant proof of my sincere respect and concern for your person and interest." Though WUUam detested Anne as much as she hated the Dutch Monster, he saw that his interest forced him to a reconciUation with her. For already many had begun to whisper doubts of his right to "IRo jForeigners anb fflo trajes" 241 the crown, now that she who had constituted such claim as he ever had to it, was dead. And already in many towns and cities in the provinces, great crowds had assembled to sing Jacobite songs and shout " no foreigners and no taxes." He also knew sufficient of Anne to feel assured that if he slighted her advances, she was capable of abetting his numerous enemies, who would become her friends, and threaten him with disaster and danger ; so he graciously accepted her words for what they were worth and appointed an hour for her visit. When she arrived at Kensington Palace the King was not at the door to receive her ; and as she was Incapable of walking at this time, sturdy bearers carried her sedan chair upstairs and into the presence chamber, when William came forward and saluted her. She expressed herself as being truly sorry for his loss and he replied he was much concerned for hers ; then they cried a little in remembering many things in which both had sorely pained her who was gone, and after such preliminaries they were left alone and remained talking for three-quarters of an hour, during which it is feasible to think that they came to an understanding regarding their mutual interests. Before she left. His Majesty gave her some articles of his wife's jewellery, and promised her apartments at St. James's Palace, which he disliked and where he never resided. In this way, as Dalrymple says, " an appearance of reconciliation in the royal family was founded, which had almost the good effects of a real VOL. I. 16 242 trbe Queen's Comrabe one, because it obliged inferior figures to suspend their passions by the example of their superiors." How these Inferior figures behaved, is bitterly told by Lady Marlborough, who writes, " And now it being publicly known that the quarrel was made up, nothing was to be seen but crowds of people of aU sorts flocking to Berkeley House to pay their respects to the Prince and Princess; a sudden alteration which I remember occasioned the half-witted Lord Caernarvon to say one night to the Princess, as he stood close by her in the circle, ' I hope Your Highness will remember that I came to wait upon you when none of this company did ; ' which caused a great deal of mirth." CHAPTER X William declines Lord Marlborough's Proffered Services — The Earl corresponds with King James — And warns Him of the Attack on Brest — The Princess congratulates the King — She is slighted by His Majesty — Prince George and His Weeds of Woe — The King's New Favourite — Honours showered upon Him — Lands taken from Lord Portland — The Marriage of Elizabeth Villiers — Anne writes to Her Father — Project of Louis XIV. — The Queen's Jointure — The Little Duke of Gloucester — The King's Avarice — Settlement of the Duke's House hold — Lord Marlborough is taken into Favour^ Kisses the King's Hand — A Precocious Youth — His Birthday Illness and Death — Anne believes His Loss a Punishment — Her Promise to King James — Marriage of Lady Henrietta Churchill to Viscount Rialton — Lord Godolphin's Craze — The Princess's Kindness — Marriage of Lady Anne Churchill — Her Husband's Character — Lord Sunderland's Anxiety for the Match — Anne's Gift to the Bride. 243 CHAPTER X THOUGH a reconciliation had been patched up between King William and the Princess Anne she was soon to discover that his former antagonism towards her still survived. His Majesty also continued to look with suspicion on the Marlboroughs ; the Countess not being received at the royal receptions whilst her husband was not allowed to kiss His Majesty's hand. In May 1694, seven months before the Queen's death, whilst his usual ill luck attended William in his campaigns abroad. Lord Marlborough, through his friend the Duke of Shrewsbury had offered his services to the King ; but to all which his Grace could urge in favour of Lord Marlborough, William coldly replied, " I do not think it for the good of my service to entrust the command of my troops to him." It happened that at this very time. Lord Marlborough, who continued his correspondence with King James, again sent him news of an expedition which WiUiam was secretly fitting out to attack the French fleet at Brest. In the Earl's letter to his exiled Majesty, which is printed in Sir John Dalrymple' s Memoirs, he says^ 24s 246 trbe Queen*s Comrabe after giving the already mentioned warning, " This will be a great advantage to England. But no consideration can prevent, or ever shall prevent me, from informing you of all that I believe to be for your service. There fore you may make your own use of this intelligence which you may depend upon being exactly true. But I must conjure you, for your own interest, to let no one know but the Queen and the bearer of this letter." It will throw further light on the general disaffection to William, when It is mentioned that two months previously the same news was sent to James, quite unknown to Marlborough, by Lord Godolphin, then First Lord of the Treasury or Prime Minister ; whilst in the following year 1695, eight gentlemen were executed for plotting to assassinate the King. WiUiam sailed for Holland in May 1695, and the following September gained one of his few victories at the expense of some twelve thousand lives, when Namur was taken. This achievement offered Anne an opportunity to express her friendliness and accordingly on his return she wrote a letter to the King in which she congratulated him on his "good success," and declared that nobody was more concerned for his interests or wished His Majesty more prosperity than herself ; but to all these platitudes in which he could have little belief, William made no answer. " This letter," says Lady Marlborough, " (which seemed to me so unbecoming the Princess to write) served no other purpose but to give the King an opportunity of showing his brutal disregard for the writer." trbe IRing sligbts anne 247 But this was not the only slight the Princess received from him whom she must stUl have considered a Dutch Monster ; for instead of taking her place beside him as next heir to the crown, at his formal and gloomy receptions, no recognition was made of her rank, and when she drove to Kensington Palace, if she found any one to hand her from her coach, it was merely a page of the back stairs, whilst she was obliged to wait from an hour to two hours in an ante-room amongst the least distinguished of the courtiers, before it pleased His Majesty to throw open the doors of the presence chamber and receive her expressions of profound respect ; to which she might consider herself fortunate if she received a reply, muttered between asthmatic gaspings in a breath smelUng of Hollands gin. Such usage as this to her mistress, enraged Lady Marlborough, who strove to save Anne from seeking humiliations ; and It was only when through her and other friends of the Princess, the morose monarch's treatment of her became the talk of the town, that he, unwilling to increase his unpopularity, paid her the poor attention of sending Lord Jersey to attend her when she returned to her coach. It will be remembered that when opportunities offered to Insult Prince George, the King had promptly seized them ; though beyond being sodden with drink, a state that could not seem very objectionable to His Majesty, His Danish Highness was generaUy harmless. How ever in the autumn of 1699, WiUiam was pleased to show his feelings towards him in a new light. At this 248 trbe Queen's Comrabe time Prince George was grieving for the death of his brother. King Christian, for whom he had donned the customary suits of woe. Now as William was about to celebrate his birthday, November 4th, by holding a drawing-room, the Prince became uneasy lest he should be expected to appear there in coloured garments. Accordingly Anne sought the good offices of one of His Majesty's favourites, to gain permission for her husband to wear mourning at the drawing-room, when an answer was quickly sent her that His Majesty would not see the Prince " unless he came in colours." Perhaps it will be admitted that he deserved such treatment when it is added that the Prince set aside his personal feelings and his mourning garments to deck his unwieldy person in gay silks and satins and wish His Majesty joy. The favourite to whose interference on his behalf Anne more than once applied, was Arnold Von Keppel, who had first been employed by the King " in copying letters and other small services." Macky describes him as " beautiful in person, open and free in his conversation, very expensive in his manner of living, and having great Influence over the King." From being a copyist he was made a page, when honours feU as fast upon him as they had formerly done upon WiUiam Bentinck his rival ; for Keppel was made Colonel of the first regiment of Swiss in the Dutch Service ; Colonel of the Dutch Carabineers ; Deputy Forester of Holland ; Governor of Bois le Due ; Baron Ashford of Ashford in Kent ; Viscount Bury in the THE EARL OF ALBEMARLE. Page 249.1 ilbarriage of EUaabetb Dilliers 249 County Palatine of Lancaster ; Earl of Albemarle ; Knight of the Garter ; and Master of the Robes. As sharer of the King's pleasures he was one of the Dutchmen whom His Majesty gathered round him at night, when he strove to drown his cares of state in potions of gin, and banish the memory of his disloyal subjects in Ustening to the doubtful jokes of his com panions. But whatever forgetfulness gin and night might bring, vexations were sixre to face him by day ; and at this time his satisfaction with himself was lessened and his dislike to Anne increased when her friends In Parliament, mindful of the interests of her son, who it was hoped would one day become Prince of Wales, made enquiries concerning grants given by the King to his favourite Bentinck Earl of Portland and his heirs for ever, of lands in Denbigh, from which the revenues of the Prince of Wales were largely derived : the result being that greatly to his mortification William was forced to revoke such gifts. It was about the same time that, greatly badgered by the bishops, he decided to marry Elizabeth ViUiers — to some other man. An obliging person was found in Lord George Hamilton, "a very well shaped black man," fifth son of the Duke of Hamilton, who was rewarded for his indifference to his own honour and his com pliance with the King's wishes, by being created Earl of Orkney. The long enduring intimacy between Elizabeth Villiers and William was broken for the present, but was renewed when His Majesty visited HoUand, his palace of Loo having the advantage of 2SO trbe Queen's Comrabe being far removed from the reproving eyes of cen sorious bishops. WiUiam's wretched health at this time led many to think his life would be brief, and set two persons busy in anticipating his death. The first of these was the exiled King who on William's demise was determined to return to England, " though three men should not follow him," and appeal to the justice of the nation for his restoration. But his hopes were soon dashed by the part that Anne was resolved to play. " The Princess of Denmark," says Macpherson, " had for six years maintained a fair correspondence with her father, full of assurances of duty and expressions of repentance. The bad health of the King had awakened her ambition with the prospect of the crown. She wrote to her father upon this subject. She desired to know his pleasure, whether he would permit her to ascend the throne according to the Act of Settlement, should the Prince of Orange, so she called King William, happen to die. She accompanied this request with expressions of duty and a seeming readiness to make restitution when opportunity should serve. She insinuated that should he refuse to accede to this expedient, considering the present disposition of the kingdom, he would remove himself further from the hopes of recovering his throne. The sceptre, she said, would fall into worse hands, out of which It could not be easily recovered." King James had by this time sufficient experience of his daughter's duplicity to convince him she merely trbe jfrencb Iking's proposal 251 wished to learn his intentions, that she might defeat them if opposed to her own determination to rule as Queen ; so saying that of all restitutions none was harder to make than a crown, and that he adhered to his resolution of trusting to his people, he ended the correspondence. It Is strange to think that whilst these communi cations were passing between them, unknown to both, a project was on foot to place another individual on the throne ; for on the cessation of the foreign wars which had occupied so much of WiUiam's time and cost England innumerable lives and sixty mUlions, the French King proposed that James's son, the Prince of Wales should succeed to the crown of England at the end of the present reign. In agreeing to this William must have been Influenced by the severe blow it would give to Anne. However he engaged to obtain an Act by which, on his death, he should be succeeded by the Prince of Wales, whose birth as such he had once denounced a fraudulent imposition on the nation. Anne never knew of this secret design, which came to light years later on the publication of King James's papers. For this project together with another ad vanced by Louis XIV., that the exiled Queen of England should receive her jointure of fifty thousand a year to which she would have been entitled had her husband died King of England, was never carried out ; James refusing to accept the reversion of the crown to his son on the ground that his doing so would be an acknowledgment of his own abdication, and that 2«i2 trbe Queen's Comrabe the Prince would be brought up a Protestant. As for the Queen's jointure, though it was readily granted by the Commons, its payment was hampered by conditions with which James declined to comply, so that Her Majesty never received a penny of her jointure from William who retained it for himself until forced to return it to the nation. The same avaricious spirit was shown by William when, it being considered that the heir to the throne — the Duke of Gloucester — was old enough to have an establishment of his own. Parliament granted fifty thousand a year for its maintenance, and the King, as Lady Marlborough says, not only kept the Duke " in women's hands a good while after the new revenue was granted, but when His Highness's family (establish ment) was settled, would give him no more than fifteen thousand a year. Nay, of this small allowance he refused to advance one quarter, though it was abso lutely wanted to buy plate and furniture ; so that the Princess was forced to be at that expense herself to do so." The little Duke's delight lay in hearing tales of battles and sieges, the perils of armies, and the deeds of heroes ; and his toys were horses, cannon, drums and trumpets. Nor was his warlike fancy satisfied until he was given a company of urchins about his own age whom he called his men, who acted as his sentries, and whom he drilled and marched to his heart's content. This soldierly spirit was fostered not only by his father but by his uncle William who Gloucester's precocity 253 showed some affection for the boy, and whose visits the young Duke celebrated by the firing of cannon and military honours. The Duke who was hopefuUy regarded as England's future King, and who was the sole survivor of Anne's numerous children, had been delicate from his birth. Though his " arms were finely hung, his chest full, his legs proportionable to his body," as Lewis Jenkins his usher and afterwards his biographer relates, yet the boy's head was enormous " insomuch that his hat was big enough for most men, which made it difficult to fit his head with a peruke." The probability is that he suffered from water on the brain, that continually caused the vertigo which up to the age of five, pre vented him from crossing a room, or walking up or down stairs unaided. Yet when he did walk, the biographer relates with triumph that the Duke " turned out his toes as if he had been taught to do so." At an early age he was taught geometry and the science of fortification, amongst other things ; he asked questions difficult to answer, and showed great pre cocity. And those who watched the difficulty with which he crossed a room or saw him fall asleep after some slight exercise, thought there was small prospect of his living long ; an idea that was strengthened when he predicted accurately. This happened when Mrs. Pack the nurse who had reared him, fell ill at her home at Deptford. Though it was not supposed she was in danger the Duke sent every morning to make enquiries for her. One day when he omitted this 254 trbe Queen's Comrabe custom, he was asked if he would not send as usual to know how she did, to which he answered, " No, she is dead." An attendant said " How do you know sir .'' " when the answer came, " That is no matter, but I am sure she is dead." When this proved to be the case Mrs. Wanley, another of the attendants said, " the young Duke had told her yesterday, that he knew Pack would die next day." When at the age of ten, his establishment was about to be settled, his mother became anxious that Lord Marlborough should be appointed as his chief governor. This view was not at first shared by William, who intended to fill all the offices in the new household without consulting her wishes. He therefore offered the governorship to the Duke of Shrewsbury, then Secretary of State who declined it, when His Majesty's new favourite Lord Albemarle joined Lord Sunderland in recommending Marlborough as best suited to the post, and after some hesitation His Majesty agreed to their wishes. " As the Earl," says Macpherson, " had lessened his professions to the late King, In proportion as the views of restoration entertained by that unfortunate prince declined, he therefore was under no difficulty in accepting William's returning favour." Accordingly Lord Marlborough attended the royal levee held on June 19th, 1698, and kissed the King's hand on his appointment as Governor to the Duke of Gloucester ; when William must have been unusually amiable, for on a gracious speech being made him by "Restoration of /Ibarlborougb 235 the Earl, who was an adept in turning phrases. His Majesty, referring to his nephew, said " teach him to be like yourself my lord, and he will not want accom plishments." The appointment to this office which the Gazette considered " a mark of the good opinion His Majesty has of his lordship's zeal for his service, and his qualifications for an employment of so great a trust," was not the only honour the Earl received at this time, for before William sailed once more for Holland on July 20th, he had restored Lord Marl borough to his place of Privy CounciUor, and to his military rank and former employments. The King had before starting, so far changed his mind regarding Anne's right to some selection of her son's servants, that he sent her word that though he intended to nominate all the preceptors, he would leave her to choose the rest of the household with the exception of the Deputy Governor. " This message was so humane and of so different an air from anything the Princess had been used to," says Lady Marlborough, " that it gave her an extreme pleasure ; and she Immediately set herself to provide proper persons, and of the most consideration for the several places." But as he was about to leave for Holland, William told Lord Marlborough that he would send him a list of those he would appoint to the Duke's household, hearing which the Earl reminded His Majesty of the message he had sent Anne, adding that on the credit of It she had already promised places to several persons, " and that not to be able to perform 2s6 trbe Queen's Comrabe those promises would be so great a mortification as he hoped His Majesty woidd not give her, at a time when anything of trouble might do her prejudice, she being then with chUd." But at this the King flew into a rage and said she should not be queen before her time, and he would make a Ust of what servants the Duke should have. The King was so peremptory and wrathfiil that Lord Marlborough dared say no more ; but news of this intention vexed Anne and placed her in a humiliating position. To save her from this Lord Marlborough appealed to the favourite, Arnold von Keppel Earl of Albemarle, who was now the only person who could influence William. Accordingly he took the Ust with him to HoUand when he accompanied the King, of those already selected by the Princess, promising at the same time he would do what he could to bring His Majesty to reason. That he succeeded was soon evident, for the King returned the list, approving of those mentioned with a few exceptions. Lady Marlborough thinks this was neither owing to the King's graciousness nor Lord Albemarle's persuasions, but to the judicious choice Anne had made. " For the King," says she, " upon cool considera tion must perceive, that he could not strike out of the list a greater number than he did, without hurting himself more than the Princess. He only made my Lord Raby's brother an equerry, and appointed to be gentlemen waiters two or three persons who had served the late Queen in such like situations, and had pensions 3Bisbop Burnet 257 on that account ; and it was to save this money that the King did so ungentleman-Uke a thing, as to force the Princess to fail In some of her engagements." One of the equerries to the little Duke whom William appointed was Peter Wentworth, whose cor respondence regarding the Court, with his brother, Lord Raby, English envoy at Berlin, will be quoted later on. Anne was obliged to rest satisfied and feel grateful that so many members of her son's household were left to her choice ; though she was greatly vexed at Bishop Burnet's appointment as preceptor to the Duke, and bitterly complained " that she considered such an appointment as the greatest hardship ever put upon her by the King, who weU knew how she disliked Burnet, and that she was sure that the King made choice of him for that very reason." The wonder Is that William selected this bumptious and egotistical ecclesiastic, who as he said was continuaUy " breaking in upon him, whether he would or no, and asking him questions that he did not know how to answer, without trusting him more than he was willing to do, having a very bad opinion of his retentive faculties ; " but the explanation Is given by Lord Dartmouth, who says that Burnet having been disappointed in not being preferred to the great see of Winchester, the preceptorship was given him to soothe his discontent. As Burnet was Bishop of Salisbury and Windsor was within his diocese, the young Duke was to live at the Castle, where Anne had been allowed to reside, she VOL. I. 17 258 trbe Queen's Comrabe having by this time sold Berkeley House to the Duke of Devonshire. As it was said that " the Duke of Gloucester was capable of learning anything," his mind was crammed amongst other things already mentioned, with the principles of jurisprudence, knowledge of the feudal system and of the Gothic laws, until his natural precocity was strained, and his health injured. He was now in his eleventh year and grave beyond his years. When invested with the Order of the Garter in St. George's Chapel Windsor, he went through the ceremony with great dignity, and afterwards, wearing his rich velvet robes and many priceless jewels, he sat down with his fellow knights to the banquet spread for them in the King's guard chamber, but had not been at the table very long when he begged that he might be excused if he retired, and by his mother's orders he lay down to rest. His eleventh birthday was kept with great rejoicings by Anne, who was excessively fond and proud of him in whom aU her hopes were centred. From early in the morning he busied himself in letting off cannon, reviewing his regiment, and planrUng a great battle, until he was overheated and fatigued. But he was weU enough to preside at a banquet given in his honour and attended by the Court. Next day he suffered from headache and sore throat and before night he was deUrious. In an agony of fear Anne sent for Dr. Radcliffe, the most skilful physician of the day, with whom she had lately quarreUed because on being Beatb of tbe Dufte of Gloucester 259 summoned to attend herself he had said " Pooh, pooh, tell her Royal Highness nothing ails her but vapours, she needs neither physic nor physician." To this more urgent caU he came as quick as post horses could carry him, and on seeing the Duke, at once declared he was suffering from scarlet fever. Before his arrival another doctor. Sir Richard Blackmore, had bled the boy, bleeding being then the universal remedy used by the faculty for every disease. When Radcliffe heard that this had been done he turned to his feUow practitioner saying " You have destroyed him and you may finish him, for I will not prescribe." With despairing eyes Anne watched the progress of the malady, attending him herself with the utmost tenderness, but with a composure that amazed all who saw her. The struggle for life lasted but a few days and ended on July 30th, 1700 ; the death of her only child, and the extinction of all her hopes, being borne by his mother with a resignation and piety that Burnet thought " indeed very singular." The fact was the Princess believed that the deaths of her seventeen children was a punishment dealt her for the part she had taken against her father, and whilst yet stunned by this latest blow and suffering from remorse, she wrote to her father In a penitent spirit, attributing her loss to her sins against him, asking his forgiveness, and assuring him that " she would use her utmost power to effect the restoration of her brother, if ever she came to the throne, and that she would only accept that dignity in trust for him." 26o trbe Queen's Comrabe At the time of the Duke's iUness, Lord and Lady Marlborough were at Althorpe with Lord Sunderland, but were immediately sent for and arrived just in time to see him die. News of his death was forwarded by the earl to Loo, where WiUiam was then staying. His answer was brief. " I do not think it necessary to employ many words," he wrote, " in expressing my surprise and grief at the death of the Duke of Gloucester. It is so great a loss to me, as weU as to aU England, that it pierces my heart with affliction." This letter which bears the date October 1700 — some three months later than the Duke's demise, makes no reference to Anne's loss ; the reason of the delay in acknowledging Lord Marlborough's communication and of the lack of sympathy for the Princess, being the King's bitter displeasure with her for having written to her father. James and his little Court at St. Germains went into mourning for a death that seemed to remove an obstacle from his own or his son's way to the throne. Though WiUiam did not show much concern for his Uttle kinsman's death, he exhibited his usual economy by instructing Lord Marlborough to have aU the late Duke's servants dismissed, " a diUigence of frugality," comments Lady Marlborough, "which was surely not very decent in a King." She adds that it was only by the contrivance of her husband and Lord Albemarle that the servants received their salaries up to the quarter day succeeding the Duke's death. 3Labs Ibenrietta Cburcbill's Carriage 261 AU that was mortal of the lad was conveyed from Windsor on August 4th by Lord Marlborough and Mr. Sayer to Westminster Hall where they arrived at two o'clock the following morning, and the body lay in state until the 9th of the month, when it was placed in a vault near Henry VII.'s chapel. It has already been stated that Lord and Lady Marlborough had been summoned to the Duke of Gloucester's deathbed whilst they were staying at Althorpe with Lord Sunderland, for at this time that wily peer was striving to arrange a marriage between his eldest surviving son, Charles Lord Spencer, and Lady Anne Churchill. In the previous year 1699 their elder daughter Lady Henrietta, then In her eighteenth year, had made a choice of her own, when from a crowd of admirers she married Francis Viscount Rialton who was only two years her senior. Lord Rialton was the son of the Marlboroughs' old and trusted friend Lord Godolphin. Though the latter had held high offices of State and enjoyed the favour of kings he was comparatively poor : two reasons for which, besides his own rectitude may be cited ; his love for gambling and his belief in alchemy. The love of cards was so common a passion in his day as to need no comment, but it seems astounding that a man whose councils were valued by four successive sovereigns, who held important positions under each, who as a conspirator, a courtier and a poUtician must have gained much worldly wisdom, should have 262 trbe Queen's Comrabe believed in alchemy ; and in the privacy of his country house and in the seclusion of his laboratory have tended fires, mixed prescribed liquids and metals, and anxiously watched the bubbling of crucibles as he muttered mystic words and observed strange cere monies in the hope of making gold after the manner of Raymond LuUy and the ancient alchymists whose lives and whose works were familiar to him. This passion, which is referred to by contemporary writers, must have been generally known in England, and there Is evidence that his reputation as an alchymist travelled abroad ; for the Godolphin papers, pre served amongst the manuscripts of the British Museum, contain a letter from the English envoy at Berlin, Lord Raby, in which the latter says that though he has always laughed at the chemists who pretend to make gold where nature has placed none, and is very cautious of the propositions he submitted to his lordship, whose nice penetration and judgment will quickly see what are reasonable and what are fictions, yet he cannot help laying before him a seemingly extravagant proposal from a man of good estate in Prussia, related to two or three ministers there, and of whose honour and sanity he is assured. This unnamed individual was anxious to get to England unknown to his family and the Prussian government, that with the aid of Godolphin he might carry out his scheme for transmuting inferior metals into gold. The proposition was apparently received by the po\)erti5 of Xorb Gobolpbin 263 Lord Treasurer with enthusiasm, judging by Lord Raby's next letter to him dated February 4th, 1705, in which he says, " I could not but smile at the conclusion of your lordship's letter, that you should mention my being ever an instrument of making your fortune ; but it may very well happen, and I hope it will, that your lordship may make mine, which wants greatly an addition ; and if this project hits or fails, I shall rely upon your lordship's favour to make mine, for I am sure you shaU ever find me a faithful humble servant of yours. The gentleman grew very impatient for an answer, and is now extremely pleased with yours." In conclusion Lord Raby begs the matter may be kept secret for sake of his reputation in case the project fails. No further^ mention Is made in the Gods^hphJux^j^a^^e^ of this subject : but it is certain the Lord Treasurer neither made gold nor accumulated it whilst in office, like many less scrupulous ministers of the Crown ; for he died so poor as scarcely to leave sufficient to defray the expenses of his funeral. Though the Marlboroughs might have desired their daughter to marry the heir of a wealthier man and one who was likely to make more stir in the world, yet they readily agreed to her marriage with Lord Rialton. The Princess Anne always kindly and generous looked favourably on the marriage of the son of whom she once loved, with the daughter of her favourite, and in the hope of making the course of true love flow smoothly for the young couple, declared her intention 264 trbe Queen's Comrabe of giving the bride a dowry of ten thousand pounds, her generous offer being conveyed in the kindest and most delicate manner. "I have a request to make to my dear Mrs. Freeman," she writes : " It is that whenever dear Lady Henrietta marries, you will give me leave to give her something to keep me in her thoughts." And concludes thus: "I beg my poor mite may be accepted, being offered from a heart that is with out any reserve, with more passion and sincerity my dear Mrs. Freeman's than any other can be capable of." As Lady Marlborough thought this too large a sum in proportion to the Princess's income, she wrote to say she would accept but half of it, and at the same time expressed her gratitude for the kindness shown her. In return Anne assured her she was not satisfied with being aUowed to give five thousand pounds, " it coming far short of what my heart is inclined to do." The bride's father gave an equal sum, and matters having been smoothly arranged Lady Henrietta was married. Her sister Lady Anne ChurchiU, the most beautiful of her charming sisters and the favourite of her parents, had not only made many hearts beat apace, but had set the pens of many poets to scratch doggerels in her praise. Unusually clever, she coidd answer in epigrams as effectively as she could fascinate by a smile ; but whUst her conquests were many her affections remained free. At last an endeavour was made to secure her for Lord Spencer, a man as cold and Cbarles Xorb Spencer 265 reserved as she was bright and free ; a widower mourning his recently lost wife. Though his father. Lord Sunderland, King James's traitorous adviser, had been a devout Catholic in the late reign he was a staunch Protestant in the present ; more over he enjoyed a pension from the privy purse and the confidence of the King. His Majesty indeed so far favoured him as to appoint him one of the Lords Justices who under Mary were to govern the Kingdom in his — WiUiam's — absence ; but this raised such a storm in the Commons that Lord Sunderland wisely resigned before a debate could expose the foulness of his conduct. His wife who was quite worthy of such a lord had been described by Anne when writing to Mary in Holland, as a " flattering, dissembling, false woman, but with such a fawning endearing manner that she will deceive anybody. Yet she wIU cheat though it be for a little, and she has her gaUants," a fact of which her husband was weU aware as has been mentioned already. Charles Lord Spencer the son of these parents was a man of middle height inclining to corpulency, with a fair complexion and " a fixed and settled sourness on his face." Early in life he gained a reputation for cleverness, and to improve his mind he made a tour of England and founded a library. On his first entry into the House of Commons he was so great a Republican that according to Swift, he would often " refuse the title of lord, swear he would never be caUed otherwise than Charles Spencer, and hoped to see the day when there should not be a peer in England." 266 trbe Queen's Comrabe Implicitly believing in himself, and hungry for notoriety, he seized an opportunity for gaining his desire, even when It led him to denounce his parents for harbouring a Jacobite refugee, and to betray his brother-in-law. Lord Clancarty. The latter, a brave and reckless Irishman, who had fought gallantly for James at the Battle of the Boyne, was captured and sent to the unsafe keeping of the Tower. Escaping from that grim prison he made his way to the Court of the exiled monarch where he was warmly welcomed. But being anxious for a sight of his young wife to whom he was devoted, and who was a daughter of Lord Sunderland, he ventured his life by returning to England and to her. By a little subterfuge he managed to gain admittance to Norfolk House, St. James's Square, where she lived with her father, but Lord Spencer gaining word of this from an unfaithful servant, rushed out to obtain a warrant for the arrest of Lord Clancarty who was taken and sent to Newgate in January 1698. This action, which gave him a chance of showing his loyalty to William whilst exposing himself as a betrayer, was followed by a bitter denunciation of his parents in the House of Commons for protecting traitors ; but his outburst of indignation lost much of its theatrical effect when it was whispered that the whole affair was concocted between himself and his unprincipled parents, who were universally despised. It is probable that William believed this and was unwiUing that Lord Clancarty. should be made a 3Labs Hnne Cburcbill's j^spousal 267 victim, for he pardoned the Jacobite and out of the estates forfeited by his rebellion, allowed him three hundred a year on condition that he left England and made no attempt to disturb the Government. The first suggestion of a marriage between Lord Spencer and Lady Anne Churchill came from the crafty Lord Sunderland, who piously declared that if this union took place he would desire nothing more in this world, but to die In peace if it pleased God. Though an old friend of Lord Marlborough's, the latter, until won over by his wife, was averse to the marriage ; for not only did he think Lord Spencer unlikely to make a kind and Indulgent husband, but he disliked his republican principles, which however recommended the suitor to his future mother-in-law. As Lord Sunderland foresaw the influence the Marlboroughs were to exercise in the next reign, and knew that Lady Anne was in high favour with the future Queen, he declared that if his son could be made so happy as to win this bride " he will be governed in everything public and private by Lord Marlborough. I have," he adds, " particularly talked to him of that, and he is sensible how advantageous it will be to him to do so." Lord Marlborough must have had his doubts as to whether a man reputed to be " born for any hardy enterprise " would consent to be led by him, and for this reason, as well as for the indifference which Lord Spencer showed to Lady Anne, negotiations for the marriage made slow progress. Indeed they lasted some eighteen months 268 trbe Queen's Comrabe before the differences were overcome, and Lady Anne and Lord Spencer were made man and wife in the month of January 1700. The Princess of Denmark presented her with five thousand pounds, whilst Lord Marlborough gave her the same amount. CHAPTER XI Grief of the Prince and Princess of Denmark for Their Son — Lord Manchester writes about King James — The Exile's Death — The Prince of Wales pro claimed King — William hears the News — His Intentions regarding Anne — The Commons vex King William — His Dutch Guards sent Home — His Majesty's Anger — He fears the Nation will be punished — Intends to vacate the Throne — Grants to His Favourites are revoked by Parliament — Foreigners driven from His Council — Is obliged to give up the Exiled Queen's Dowry — He rapidly declines — Accident at Hampton Court — Anne's Dutiful Message — Permission to see The King is refused — His Majesty is supported by "Spiritu ous Liquors " — He clings to Life — Gives All He has to his Favourite — His Hard Death — News is brought to Anne — Who is proclaimed Queen — Crowds flock to St. James's Palace — Lord Clarendon's Visit — Lady Marlborough's Words. 369 CHAPTER XI THE Prince and Princess of Denmark remained at Windsor until the end of November when they returned to St. James's Palace, still bowed down by their heavy grief. According to White Kennett's History, their sorrow seemed to be confined to them selves. " For never " says he " was so great a loss so little lamented, which may be ascribed to the different parties then dividing England, two of which, I mean the Jacobites and the Republicans, looked upon that hopeful young Prince as an obstacle to their future designs." Not many months passed before another death occurred in the royal family. Worn by age, grief, and disappointment. King James had for some time been in declining health. Lord Manchester, who was at this time English Ambassador to France, in writing on March i6th, 1701, says, " The late King is very iU, having had a second fit of an apoplexy, which was violent, and which has taken away the use of one side of him. He has been blistered and if he chance to recover, his physicians are for having him go to Bourbon." 271 272 trbe Queen's Comrabe His Majesty was sufficiently recovered by the end of the month to set out on his prescribed journey, when the Ambassador once more writes, " He is far from being well and is very much broke of late, so that none thinks he can last long. His stay at Bourbon will be three weeks. He is to be eleven days in going and the same on his return. They intend to pump his right arm, which he has lost the use of, and is to bathe and drink the waters. They desired but 30,000 livres of the French Court for this journey which was immediately sent them in gold. I do not know but they may advise him after that to a hotter climate, which may be convenient enough on several accounts." The King rallied until early in September, when whilst assisting at one of the services of the Church, he fell into a state of unconsciousness ; but though he recovered his senses it was seen that he was in a dying state. Throughout his last illness he was con tinually visited by Louis XIV., who had ever shown kindness and affection for the dethroned King. One sombre afternoon when the French monarch paid his customary call, the yellow light of candles showed him the motionless figure, waxen face, and closed eyes of King James, around whose canopied bed his faithful Irish and Scotch adherents were on their knees in prayer. Believing that his kinsman was dead, Louis was about to retire, but at that moment an attendant roused James and announced his visitor. The dying man opened his glassy eyes and asked 2)eatb of James 273 " Where is he .'' " on which Louis came and bent over him. Unable to speak from weakness and emotion, James grasped the French King's hand in both his own, kissed it, and let his tears faU upon it, which so moved Louis that he also wept. Presently James recovered himself sufficiently to murmur and whisper his thanks for all the favours Louis had shown him, when the latter moved by the misfortune of the exile and prompted by an impulse of generosity said, " What I have done is but a small matter ; but what I have to say is of the utmost importance. I came to acquaint you sir, that when God shall please to call your Majesty from this world, I shall take your family into my protection, and acknowledge your son, as then he will certainly be. King of Great Britain and Ireland." A murmur of joy and grief broke out from those around ; some cried, others cast themselves in gratitude at the feet of Louis who was so moved by the scene, as well as by the rapture lighting the face of the dying man, that he was obliged to retire before his emotions overcame him. But he kept his word, and when James passed away on September 17th, 1701, his son was proclaimed King of Great Britain and Ireland, to the indignation of William's supporters, and even to many of the adherents of King James, it being con sidered an Insult that a King of France should presume to name a King of England without consulting the English people. When news of James's death and the Prince's VOL. L 18 2 74 trbe Queen's Comrabe proclamation as King, reached William, he was enjoying himself at table with several German princes at his new palace at Loo in Holland which he had adorned with tapestries and pictures taken from Windsor Castle. According to the Due de St. Simon, he did not utter a single word beyond repeating the news itself, but his face reddened, he pulled his hat over his lowering brows, and was unable to keep his countenance. On recovering himself his first act was to order Mons. Poussin, charge d'affaires at London in the temporary absence of the French ambassador, to quit the country ; whilst the English ambassador at Paris was recalled ; and for some time a critical and bitter hostility was kept up between England and France. Meantime In this country numerous addresses were presented to the throne, expressing loyalty to William and to the House of Hanover whose representatives were declared to come next in succession to the English throne after Anne; the Princess Sophia of Hanover being daughter to Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia, who was sister of Charles I. Taking advantage of public feeling whilst it was inflamed by a supposed indignity offered by Louis to the nation, WilUam introduced a biU for the attainting of " the pretended Prince of Wales," then twelve years old. According to a contemporary author, Macpherson, it was commonly reported at this time, that when on his deathbed, James charged his daughter not to accept the crown at WUliam's death, but to make way for her brother, hearing which William demanded to see the 2)utcb (Buarbs bisbanbeb 27^ letter which Anne declined to show him, when WiUiam vowed he would do his utmost to exclude her from the throne. It was stated that papers to this effect were found in King WiUiam's closet after his death ; but Anne's ministers having inquired into the report, declared, as might be expected, that it was false. Lidlard, however states that William intended to imprison Anne for Ufe, and declare his successor to be the heir to the House of Hanover. It is possible that his hatred of Anne would have urged him to this injustice, but death left him no time to further his schemes. ^ William's natural gloom increased with the passage of years. Little else than vexation had befallen him since he was crowned King of England. The open rebellion in Ireland, the secret discontent of Scotland, the long wars abroad in which he had so frequently suffered defeat and disaster, the conspiracies against his throne entered into by those he had trusted, the plot against his life, all had their dismal effect In weighting his mind. But events still more aggravating were to harass the closing years of his life. On the establishment of peace with the foreign aUies, Parliament resolved on a measure that more than any other that could be conceived, was calculated to mortify the King and weaken his power. This was the dis banding of his dearly beloved Dutch Guards, and the dismissal of the French refugees who had enlisted In his service. In the Parliament which sat in the winter of 1699, it was decided that an army of seven thousand 276 trbe Queen's Comrabe men in Ireland and twelve thousand in England was sufficient for the needs of the nation ; and that " the troops which remained should consist, both officers and men, of natural born subjects." Unable to oppose this resolution, William apparently agreed to it, hoping that in time and with strategy he might evade such a distressing measure. In his reply he stated that though there was great danger in dis banding such a number of troops, and though he might think himself unkindly used in being obliged to dispense with the Guards who came with him from Holland, and who had fought with him in his engage ments, yet it was his fixed opinion that nothing was more fatal than that any distrust or jealousy should arise between him and the people, and therefore he agreed to the passing of the Bill ; but finally urged Parliament to provide such a strength as was necessary for the safety of the kingdom and the preservation of peace. His speech was answered with addresses in which, says Dalrymple, "in affected terms of gratitude exactly proportioned to their want of it, they declined com plying with his request." But before he obeyed an order which he considered dishonoured him in the eyes of Europe, he wrote a message to the Commons in which he professed himself ready to send his guards away immediately, unless out of consideration for him, the House " was disposed to find a way for continuing them longer in his service, which he would take very kindly " ; but the Commons stood firm to their purpose. When news was brought him that his Milliam's Distress anb ibumiliation 277 request was refused, he fell into such a rage as he had never before shown ; after marching backwards and forwards in silence, his face livid, his eyes on the ground, he paused at last to shout with vehemence, " By God, if I had a son, these guards should not quit me." As it was he had intended to send the foreign regiments to Ireland, " but," he wrote to Lord Galway In communicating this resolve, " that must be very secret, though I much fear my design Is already suspected." In his letter to the same peer he complained that it " was not to be conceived how people here are set against foreigners. You will easily judge on whom this reflects. There Is a spirit of ignorance and malice prevails here beyond conception." He was so assured that Providence espoused his cause and would resent the indignities he felt, that he adds, " I am afraid the good God will punish the ingratitude of this nation. Assuredly on all sides my patience is put to the trial." His distress and humiliation were so great that he intended to retire to HoUand ; and he carried this resolution so far as to write a speech In which he asked Parliament to select such persons as they thought most proper to administer the Government in his absence ; assuring them that though he was forced to withdraw himself from the kingdom, he would be ready to return when his presence was thought necessary for Its defence. Though this speech was never delivered, its purpose was whispered abroad, 278 trbe Queen's Comrabe but it failed to frighten the nation. Dalrymple tells that when the rumour reached Lord Sunderland, " who tired with the treachery of the world and his own, was then retired to the country," his lordship said, "There is Tom of Pembroke (meaning the Earl of Pembroke) who is as good a block of wood as a King can be cut out of ; we will send for him and make him our King." The nation at large disliking His Majesty, com plained that he had left the kingdom the previous summer without any excuse for his absence ; that he had no concern for the English people, that he went " merely to enjoy a lazy privacy at the palace of Loo with a few favourites and creatures in a manner unworthy of his character and unsuitable to his dignity," which open complaints and Insinuations, says Macpherson, " rendered fretfiU the mind of William, naturally peevish, melancholy and severe. His deport ment when he was humoured the most, was stiff, ungracious, and cold, but now his resentment had so far overcome his prudence, that he alternately yielded to fits of passion or sunk under a load of despondency." His intention to vacate the throne, if sincere must have been short lived ; for he valued his wealth and position far above the interests of the people who disparaged and distrusted him. " Let aU remain according to my wish now," he once said, " and those may have the crown who can catch it when I am gone." And again during one of those drunken bouts in which he more and more frequently indulged Xorb Mbarton 279 during the last years of his reign, he said to his friend and boon companion Lord Wharton — whom Lady Mary Wortley Montagu describes as " that most profligate, impious, and shameless of men " and whom the King always called by his Christian name — " Thom I know what you wish for, you wish for a repubUc." Lord Wharton answered, " and not a bad thing sir, neither ; " to which WiUiam replied as he cracked a bottle, " No, no. I shall disappoint you there, I will bring over King James's son upon you." Then Lord Wharton making a very affected low bow, said with a sneer, " That is as Your Majesty pleases." The anger he felt at being obliged to send away his Dutch guards was increased a thousand fold when a parliamentary commission was held to consider the grants of the forfeited Irish estates ; and a resolution was arrived at " that the procuring or passing ex orbitant grants by any member of the privy council, to his use or benefit, was a high crime and mis demeanour." The result was, that after a prolonged and undignified wrangle and addresses from the King, a biU was passed in May 1700, which wrested from the favourites Keppel, Bentinck, Romney, Rochford, Zulestein, Sidney, and His Majesty's Mistress Lady Orkney, the lands he had given them, and the income of which was In fiiture to be applied to the public debts. The bill was made the more galling to William by a statement made by the Commons that the bestowal of these lands " had been the occasion of contracting great debts upon the nation, and laying heavy taxes on the 28o trbe Queen's Comrabe people ; and that the passing of these grants highly reflected on the King's honour." It was little wonder that William complained that " the Parliament would drive him mad " ; but in different to his feelings, save when they aggravated them, and still warm with resentment, the Commons aimed another blow at the King and his favourites by preparing an address praying that " no person who was not a native of his dominions, except the Prince of Denmark, be admitted to His Majesty's councils in England or Ireland." Before this could be formaUy presented to him, William prorogued Parliament on April 1st, 1700, and refrained for the first time for many years from making a speech from the throne. But the Commons had not yet finished with the demands which were particularly obnoxious to the King, for in the following year, 1701, they obliged him to apply the fifty thousand per annum they had voted for King James's Queen, and which under various pretences William had retained, as well as the income that reverted to the Crown from the Duke of Gloucester's death, to the payment of the public debts. Continual vexation preyed upon his health which had never been robust, and was now rapidly declining. Dalrymple, speaking of him in June 1701, says his body "was wasted, his legs swollen, his voice like that of a grasshopper, weakened by an asthma, the most dis couraging of all diseases, because at every draught of breath it reminds the sufferer, and those who see him, that It may be his last." Though knowing he had but WILLIAM III. Page 280.] 2)r. IRabclifEe 281 a short time to live, he concealed his condition from the public. He was however obliged to consult his physicians, and on one occasion when he asked Dr. Radcliffe what he thought of the painful complaint he, WiUiam, suffered In his legs, the sturdy Jacobite answered " I would not have Your Majesties' two legs for your three kingdoms," which so displeased the King that he forbade the doctor's further attendance, a matter of little importance to Radcliffe, who once said he hated WiUiam and Mary " so unfelgnedly that he should certainly have the credit of poisoning them, therefore he wanted none of their custom, not he." It was not until the following year that WiUiam's end came. On a mild day towards the end of February, he mounted his horse at Kensington with the intention of riding to Hampton Court. Arriving at the Home Park, and stUl mounted, he went to inspect a canal he was having cut through a glade, in order to make Hampton Court palace as Dutch-Uke as possible, when his horse trod on a mole hill and feU, bringing down his rider whose right collar bone was broken. The workmen carried the King to the palace where his surgeon Ronjat immediately set it and recommended rest. But His Majesty, thinking the accident a trifle, determined to return that evening to Kensington. On his way the jolting of the coach over the rough roads loosened the bandages and displaced the collar bone. It was once more set by Ronjat, the pain bringing some slight fever. However on the following day. 282 trbe Queen's Comrabe February 28th, the Gazette declared that the King had quite recovered, and on March i st, the bill that attainted the Prince of Wales and required an oath abjuring him to be taken by all persons in public stations, received the royal assent by commission. The following day the King's state was such that all who saw him knew his recovery was impossible. News of his serious condition was immediately despatched to Anne, who with the death of the man she detested, and who hated her, saw her way made clear to the throne. But whatever her private feelings were, she had always shown him in public the semblances of respect, and now sent him what was called " a dutiful message," and a request that she might be permitted to see him ; hearing which William with his old antagonism strong in death, muttered a gruff " No " in refusal. Not satisfied with this rebuff, the Prince of Denmark, for whom the King had a still greater detestation, presented himself at Kensington Palace and strove to enter His Majesty's chamber, but was continually repulsed. He probably considered that as none were admitted but foreigners, he had a right, on that account if on no other, to a place amongst them, but such was not the King's desire. His two favourites Bentinck and Keppel, had been summoned in hot haste to his bedside, and to the latter he gave all the money he had at his command, twenty thousand guineas, together with the keys of his cabinet, with orders to destroy all the letters and papers he found there. Beatb of Milliam ^83 As on the death of Queen Mary, a few years before, so the ante-rooms were again crowded by archbishops and bishops, ministers of state, physicians and courtiers, all waiting and watching until the King should draw his last breath. Now and then their whispers were interrupted as one of the foreigners gave an order at the half-open door through which they were not permitted to pass, or as a messenger from Lord Jersey took his important way through them with messages to Anne, telling her that every minute brought her nearer to the throne. Throughout the weary Saturday night whilst they waited, the King " was supported entirely by spirituous liquors." Though they may have acted as oil to the dying flame of his life, they could not relieve the dreadful gasping for breath which must have been agony to the sufferer who asked his doctor " Can this last long .'' " when he was answered " An hour or an hour and a half, though you may be snatched away in the twinkling of an eye." But WUliam, notwithstanding his pain, clung to this life or shrank from that he was about to enter, for turning to the physician he piteously said, " I do not die yet, hold me fast," when more spirits were given him. Later on he called for Lord Portland, who placed his ear near the King's mouth ; but though His Majesty's Ups were seen to move they uttered no sound. Then with an effort he placed his favourite's hand above his heart and held it there so long as he retained consciousness. Towards eight o'clock on Sunday morning March 8th, 1672, William died in the 284 trbe Queen's Comrabe arms of his page Sewel, His Majesty then being in the fifty-second year of his age. On his left arm was found a ribbon to which was fastened a ring and lock of hair belonging to his wife. Of all the courtiers who desired to bring news of the King's death to Anne, the time-serving Bishop Burnet was first In the race. On the authority of Lord Dartmouth we learn that " as soon as the breath was out of King William — by which event all expectations from him were for ever at an end — off set Dr. Burnet, Bishop of Salisbury, and drove hard to bring the first tidings of the King's demise to St. James's Palace, where he prostrated himself at the new Queen's feet, fuU of joy and duty ; but he obtained no advantage over the Earl of Essex (the Lord of the Bedchamber then in waiting, whose proper office it was to com municate the event) besides being universally laughed at for his officlousness." As Anne disliked his Lord ship, it is not surprising that this ecclesiastical mercury, notwithstanding his nimbleness, was " turned out of his lodgings at Court, and met with several affronts." The morning that saw Anne proclaimed queen was brilliant with spring sunshine, which was hailed as an omen of the future glories of her reign. Early as the hour was, solemn as the day, St. James's Palace became aU of a sudden astir outside and in ; its yards echoing with the clatter of horses' feet and the roU of coach wheels of the Jacobites, Whigs, and Tories, ministers of state, old partisans, grave bishops and smiling courtiers, wily ambassadors and place seekers, trbe ©atbs of allegiance 285 who thronged the stairs, passages and rooms, tripping over each other in their unseemly haste to hail the rising sun in the portly person of Queen Anne. Amongst all the bustle and movement of those who chattered and laughed so freely, and greeted the new Sovereign so loyally, came a slow-paced grave-faced old man, my Lord Clarendon, whom Mary had made a prisoner, but who now came to ask admittance to his niece. Remembering their former conversations, Anne must have guessed that the object of his visit was to remind her of her father's last message, and to beg her not to usurp the throne which was her brother's ; for she curtly sent him word that if " he would go y and qualify himself to enter her presence," in other words if he would take the oaths of allegiance to herself, she would be very glad to see him. His answer was " I come to talk to my niece ; I shall take no other oaths than I have taken ; " on which he turned sadly away. There were many others who for the sake of favours to come, were willing to take any oaths required of them, and by their flatteries to efface the memory of his unpleasant visit ; amongst them being my Lord Normanby, who having kissed Her Majesty's hands, was after her customary fashion of making conversation, assured by her that it was a very fine day. " Your Majesty must allow me to declare," answered the courtier, " that it is the finest day I ever saw in my life." And whilst all was movement and joy, bustle and congratulation in the ancient palace of St. James, 286 trbe Queen's Comrabe Kensington Palace containing all that was mortal of the late monarch, was deserted save for his few Dutch servants who came and went through the silent and gloomy rooms, sad-faced because the day of their prosperity had gone with the rule of their master. During this Sunday in early March, whilst the sun shone brilliantly if fitfully, the church beUs from hundreds of towers and steeples rang, and the streets were crowded with eager and happy people full of loyalty to their new sovereign, Anne received the congratulations of the Lords and Commons and was proclaimed Queen of Great Britain and Ireland, at Temple Bar, before the gates of St. James's Palace, and in Cheapside. It was not to be expected that Her Majesty would feel any grief for the man who had throughout his reign treated her with contempt, and who had occupied a position to which many considered he had no claim. Nor have we any record of her feelings, though we have of those entertained by Lady Marlborough, who through her royal mistress was certain to benefit by that event. " And now," she says in addressing Lord Cholmondeley, " after all I have related of the King, and after so much dislike as I have expressed of his character and conduct, you will perhaps hardly believe me in what I am going to say : yes your lordship will believe me, for you will judge of my heart by the make and temper of your own. When the King came to die, I felt nothing of that satisfaction which I once thought I should have had upon this occasion. And a public jfuneral benieb 287 my Lord and Lady Jersey writing and sending perpetuaUy to give an account as his breath grew shorter and shorter, filled me with horror. I thought I would lose the best employment in any court sooner than act so odious a part. And the King who had given me so much cause to hate him, in that condition I sincerely pitied ; so little is it in my nature to retain resentment against any mortal (however unjust so ever he may have been) in whom the will to injure is no more." Anne had donned the deepest weeds of woe for King James, but to mark the difference, in her mourning for King WUUam she wore purple. Un popular In life. His Dutch Majesty was soon forgotten in death. By the decision of the Privy Council he was denied a public funeral, and on Sunday April i2th, at midnight was quietly laid to rest beside his wife, in the Chapel of Henry VII., close to the remains of their uncle Charles II. CHAPTER XII Queen Anne's Popularity — Her First Speech — Gifts and Favours to Lord and Lady Marlborough — Her Coronation — Party Faction — Lady Marl borough's Account of Herself — Her Majesty's Affectionate Letter — Lord Marlborough goes to the War — The Queen touches for the King's Evil — Bishop Bull explains why Cures are not Inevitable — Her Majesty's Physicians — Lord Marl borough is made a Duke — Lady Marlborough's Surprise — Pension from the Privy Purse — Parlia ment refuses to settle it on His Successors — The Queen's Generosity — The Duke's Correspondence with the Court of St. Germains — Astonishing Proposals of Marriage — Lady Betty Churchill becomes Countess of Bridgewater — The Duke's Son and Heir — Desires to enter the Army — Illness and Death — Grief at His Loss — Letters from the Duke — His Anxiety for His Wife's Health — Marriage of Lady Mary Churchill — The Duke of Montagu — Strange Story of the Mad Duchess— Prince George's Settlement — The Duke of Marlborough threatens to retire — The Queen writes to the Duchess. VOL. L 2^9 19 CHAPTER XII ANNE'S succession was universally popular. In stead of a foreigner, the nation was ruled by an English monarch, the only surviving daughter of their hereditary king. And though the Tories and Jacobites would have preferred to see the direct line of succession adhered to, and to hail the Prince of Wales as their Sovereign, they knew it was impossible at the present that he should be called to the Crown, and they trusted from Anne's protestations and promises to her father, that she would endeavour to secure her brother's succession to the throne when vacated by her death. On March nth, 1702, Her Majesty went in great state to the House of Lords, a crown on her head, a star on her breast. Lady Marlborough accompanying her, and there made her first speech in a voice singularly sweet, which had been trained in youth by Mrs. Betterton, and that now acted on her hearers " with a kind of charm." Its effects were not lessened on many of them when she assured them that her heart was entirely English, and that they should 291 292 trbe Queen's Comrabe always find her a strict and religious observer of her word ; phrases that were supposed to refer to WiUiam's nationaUty, to the favours he had shown foreigners, and to his falsehood in promising ParUa ment not to make grants of the Irish forfeited estates, and then bestowing them on his Dutch followers. She won the hearts of the heavUy burdened tax payers on the 30th of the same month, when having been voted the same revenue as her predecessor, whose grasping nature had led him to melt down the silver basins and toilette requisites of King James and his Queen and make them into half-crowns, Anne de clared that she would straiten herself in her expenses, rather than not contribute all she could to the ease and relief of her subjects, and would give a hundred thousand pounds to be applied to the public service out of her privy purse. Another generous act did not fail to have its effect on the pubUc ; for fore going the claims her accession gave her to the first fruits or first year's whole profits of every benefice or church dignitary bestowed by the Crown, she applied them to a fund for supplementing the wretched incomes attached to many church livings ; a fund which StiU bears the name of Queen Anne's Bounty. Nor did she forget her friends or her foes. She had not reigned a week before Lord Marlborough was elected a Knight of the Garter, an honour she had vainly solicited for him from WUliam. On the following day he was gazetted Captain General of the EngUsh forces at home and abroad, and a little IRangersbip of Minbsor parft 293 later appointed Master of the Ordnance. Lady Marlborough was made Groom of the Stole and Mistress of the Robes and entrusted with the manage ment of the privy purse ; whilst her daughters Lady Rialton and Lady Spencer were nominated Ladies of the Bedchamber. Nor was this all. Remembering that when they had driven through Windsor Park, Lady Marlborough had often admired the great lodge and wished she had such a place, the Queen now offered her the rangership to which the residence was attached. On Anne's accession it was held by Lord Portland, who had always been unfriendly to her, and who had advised William against being reconciled to her on Mary's death ; for which reasons Her Majesty was ready to deprive him of his place. Speaking of him, in a letter that like most of hers is undated, she says " Mentioning this worthy person puts me in mind to ask dear Mrs. Freeman a question which I would have done some time ago, and that is, if you would have the lodge for your life, because the warrant must be made accordingly ; and anything that is of so much satisfaction as this poor place seems to be to you, I would give dear Mrs. Freeman for all her days, which I pray God may be as many and as truly happy as this world can make you." The Ranger- ship was gratefully accepted by the Countess who laid out five or six thousand pounds in repairing and extending the lodge which became her favourite residence. 294 trbe Queen's Comrabe As the Prince of Denmark was to have no share in the royal prerogatives of his wife, she gave him the most dignified position in her power by making him Lord High Admiral of England ; and as he admittedly had no capacity for the post, he was allowed a council for his information and assistance in his new office. At the same time the Earl of Godolphin, through Marlborough's influence, was made Lord Treasurer, and Lord Sunderland, whom Anne had hated was made Secretary of State. Lords Orford, Somers, and Halifax were dismissed from the Privy Council ; and the Earl of Macclesfield deprived of the -offices and sinecures given him by William and Mary for the same reason as that which now caused his disgrace — because as the new Queen said " he had thrown blood in her father's face," or in other words, had set the calumny afloat that James had cut Lord Essex's throat, when that unfortunate peer committed suicide in the Tower. On April 23rd, O.S., 1702, it being the feast of St. George and the seventeenth anniversary of her father's coronation, Anne was crowned in Westminster Abbey amidst great pomp and state, the singing of anthems, the invocation of blessings, the recital of prayer, much bowing and many ceremonies ; at the end of which Her Majesty kissed the bashful bishops. A long procession of archbishops and bishops, coun- cUlors, chamberlains. Garter King at Arms, Lord Mayor, Black Rod, Lord High Steward, State at tendants. Lord High Constable, peers and peeresses, IReloicings at tbe Coronation 295 all in their robes of crimson and violet, of spotless white and royal blue, making a goodly show, took its way through the carpet-lined herb-strewn streets, and under the grey Gothic arches of the ancient Abbey. Great banquets at which much good wine was drunk, bonfires that blazed in every thoroughfare, the ringing of bells from hundreds of steeples and church towers, the blare of music, roystering songs and dancing by the red glare of torches, closed the night and ushered the pale day which was to be the herald of happiness for England. That Anne enjoyed much happiness during her reign is doubtful. In the Account of Her Conduct Lady Marlborough states that she was brought by the Queen's accession into a new scene of life and into a new sort of con sideration with all those whose attention, either through curiosity or ambition, was turned to politics or the Court. " Hitherto," she continues, " my favour with her royal highness, though it had sometimes furnished matter of conversation to the pubUc, had been of no moment to the affairs of the nation, she herself having no share in the councils by which they were managed. But from this time I began to be looked upon as a person of consequence, without whose approbation at least, neither places, nor pensions, nor honours were bestowed by the Crown. The intimate friendship with which the Queen was known to honour me, afforded a plausible foundation for this opinion. And I believe therefore it wiU be a surprise to many, to be told that the first important step which Her Majesty took 296 trbe Queen's Comrabe after her accession to the government, was against my wishes and inclination ; I mean her throwing herself and her affairs almost entirely into the hands of the Tories." In the latter sentence the writer gives the keynote ofthe drama soon to be enacted : for the factions then known as Whigs and Tories divided and distracted the Court and the nation ; and in time were to rend the friendship which Anne, in her blindness to fate and her ignorance of human nature, had fondly imagined would last through life. Though it has been thought weU to keep poUtics as much as possible apart from these pages, they must be touched on here, whilst the briefest definition is given of the principles represented by these re spective terms. The Whigs who nowadays would be termed Liberals were guardians of the people's rights, anxious to limit the interference or power of the Crown, to give tolerance to aU dissenters from the established religion, and to place in the hands of the Prime Minister instead of the Queen, the ap pointments to all sees and benefices in the Church. In looking towards the future they were opposed to placing King James's son on the throne and favoured the succession of the House of Hanover. On the other hand the Tories or Conservatives supported the prerogatives of royalty, were chiefly Jacobites, zealous defenders of the Church, and intolerant of sects. Could the Prince of Wales be persuaded to conform to the Protestant faith, they would gladly see him succeed his sister. anne's antipatbi? to tbe Tldbigs 297 From her earliest days Anne had imbibed an un conquerable prejudice against the Whigs, whom she had been taught to regard as republicans who hated all regal authority and were the implacable enemies of the Church. Her aversion to them was strengthened by the slights she and her husband had received at their hands In the previous reign, when in power under William, who professed Whig principles, and under Mary who filled the bishoprics with dissenting clergy. And in proportion as she hated the Whigs she liked the Tories, who had shown her many civilities and attentions when she was ignored or illtreated by His Dutch Majesty, and who had at the beginning of his reign and in opposition to his wishes, had secured a settlement of her revenue. On coming to the throne Anne had by appointing Tories to high places in her Council and Court, given them a proof of her warm regard, an act that Lady Marlborough, who was a Whig, regarded with displeasure. Such ministers as Lords Rochester, Nor manby, Jersey, and Nottingham, to whom the Queen gave important posts, were spoken of contemptuously by the Countess as men who professed a wonderfuh zeal for the Church, a merit, she says that eclipsed all others in the eyes of Her Majesty. As to herself she candidly declared, that the word church never had any charm for her in the mouths of those who made the most noise with it. " For I could not perceive that they gave any other distinguishing proof of their regard for the thing than a frequent use of the word, like a 298 trbe Queen's Comrabe spell to enchant weak minds, and a persecuting zeal against Dissenters, and against those real friends of the Church who would not admit that persecution was agreeable to its doctrines." The fact that her husband and her friend Lord Godolphin were amongst the Tories, did not prevent Lady Marlborough from inveighing against their " wrong-headed " party, and from the beginning of the reign she strove to influence the Queen's mind towards favouring the Whigs. She succeeded so far as to induce Anne against her inclinations to retain some of them in office, and to raise a prominent Whig, Hervey, to the Peerage under the title of Earl of Bristol, but so great was the hate and prejudice raging between these political parties, that for a while four good Tories denied themselves the desire of their hearts, and would not be made peers if a wretched Whig was to share the same honour. Lady Marlborough had the disadvantage of differing from her Queen and her husband in adhering to the Whigs, whilst on the other hand she had nothing to gain save the satisfaction of following her own way in spite of opposition, which must have counted for much in her case ; for the-Whigs could not have forwarded her interests more than the Tories ; nor did she need the influence of either to ingratiate her with Anne, who had already given her husband the highest post possible for him to hold in the Army, and had appointed the Countess to places which brought her over five thousand a year. " Everybody must see," she wrote Difference of ©pinion 299 " that had I consulted that oracle, my private interest, about the choice of a party. It would certainly have directed me to go with the stream of my mistress's inclinations and prejudices. This would have been the surest way to secure my favour with her." It was a grief to Her Majesty that the favourite should differ In opinion from her even regarding politics, and with her usual kindness and affection she strove to bring the stronger mind into agreement with her own. Writing from St. James's Palace on October 24th, 1702, the Queen says — " I am very glad to find by my dear Mrs. Freeman's that I was blest with yesterday, that she liked my speech, but I cannot help being extemely concerned, you are so partial to the whigs, because I would not have you and your poor unfortunate faithful Morley differ in opinion in the least thing. What I said when I writ last upon this subject, does not proceed from any insinuations of the other party ; but I know the principles of the Church of England and I know those of the whigs, and it is that, and no other reason which makes me think as I do, of the last. And upon my word my dear Mrs. Freeman you are mightily mistaken in your notion of a true whig ; for the character you give them does not in the least belong to them but to the church. " But I will say no more on this subject, only beg for my poor sake, that you would not show more countenance to those you seem to have so much inclination for, than to the church party. Since you 300 trbe Queen's Comrabe have stayed so long at Windsor, I wish now for your own sake that you would stay tiU after my lord mayor's day, for if you are in town, you can't avoid going to the show, and being in the country is just an excuse ; and I think one would be glad of any to avoid so troublesome a business. I am at this time in great haste and therefore can say no more to my dear Mrs. Freeman but that I am most passionately hers." Meantime Anne had given her sanction to a war which William had been devising during his last days, against France and Spain, that was destined to make a battle-field of Europe for years. This war, in which England was acting with her allies, Austria and Holland, was undertaken to thwart the power of Louis XIV. by deposing his young grandson Philip V. from the Spanish throne, and placing in his stead Prince Charles of Austria. As commander of the forces Lord Marlborough left London for The Hague in May 1702. His wife accompanied him as far as Margate where he embarked on the 15 th of the month. Their farewell was deeply affectionate, for neither knew if they might meet again ; and so long as land remained in sight he stayed on the deck of his vessel, his face turned to the spot where they had parted. Then with a heart fuU of grief and tenderness this man, who had passed his fiftieth year and before whom lay the responsibilities and anxieties of a great campaign, hurried down to write the following letter which shows his deep affection for his wife. " It is impossible to express with what a heavy heart /ibarlborougb Commanber in Cbief 301 I parted with you when I was by the water's side. I could have given my life to have come back, though I know my own weakness so much that I durst not, for I know I should have exposed myself to the company. I did for a great while with a perspective glass, look upon the cliffs, in hopes I might have had one sight of of you. We are now out of sight of Margate and I have neither soul nor spirits, but I do at this minute suffer so much that nothing but being with you can recompense it. If you will be sensible of what I now feel, you will endeavour ever to be easy to me, and then I shall be most happy ; for It is you only that can give me true content. I pray God to make you and yours happy ; and if I could contribute anything to it with the utmost hazard of my life, I should be glad to do it." On arriving at The Hague the States conferred on him the chief command of the united forces of England and Holland, a post which the King of Prussia, the Archduke Charles of Austria, the Elector of Hanover, the Duke of Zell, the Prince of Nassau, and the Earl of Athlone had been anxious to obtain. A salary of ten thousand a year was attached to the post. Whilst the blood of Englishmen was being freely spilt on foreign battle-fields without bringing profit or glory to the nation. Her Majesty was excercising one of the divine rights of royalty, by touching for the King's evil. The miraculous gift of healing supposed to have been inherited from the sainted Edward the Confessor 302 trbe Queen's Comrabe by his successors to the English throne, had been practised by many of them, and the Church in coun tenancing their pretensions, had framed a long Latin service for the ceremony. Charles II. had touched thousands for this distressing disease, and his cynical mind must have been amused at the credulity that could attribute spiritual power to so shameless a sinner as himself. Neither William nor Mary had professed to heal, nor would any good Jacobite have believed in them if they had ; for the divine right to give health was supposed to be vested in the sovereign alone, and not in those who usurped his throne. It is doubtful if Anne would come forward as a healer, if a great many of her afflicted subjects had not risked the danger and discomforts of crossing the Channel and journeyed to the Court at St. Germains to beg James's son, " the King over the water " as he was called, to touch and heal them ; and returning home had boasted of the cures he had made, which proved him beyond further doubt, the rightful Majesty of England. That her brother should exercise this power seemed an affront to Anne, who was always jealous of her prerogatives, and accordingly she set herself forward as a healer. This was done with a befitting solemnity that set aside all idea of farce. As Her Majesty was infirm from gout and unwieldy from corpulency, she was carried In a sedan chair Into the banqueting room of Whitehall, " which I like very well," she says in one of her letters, " that being a very cool room, and the doing of it there keeps my own troucbing for trbe Iking's Evil 303 house sweet and free from crowds." Here, surrounded by the unsmiling officers of her Court, and attended by her chaplains in flowing surplices, white ribbons on their arms, strung with pieces of " angel gold " which were placed about the sufferers' necks or bound round their arms, she laid hands on those who knelt at her feet, humbly craving to be made whole. And so numerous were they, and so great were the crowds anxious to see the miracle performed, that occasionally children who were brought to be cured were crushed to death. When Her Majesty's touched failed to. cure, the cause was made clear by Dr. Bull, Bishop of St. David's, " no mean divine " ; for says his lordship In an eloquent sermon called St. Paul's Thorn in the Flesh Explained, " God hath not given this gift of healing so absolutely to our royal line, but that He stiU keeps the reins of it in His own hand, to let them loose or restrain them as He pleaseth." So satisfied was the Queen with her reputation as a healer, that when she made a provincial tour from London to Bath that her asthmatic consort might drink the waters of the latter city, she performed wherever she rested, and amongst those brought to her on one of these occasions was the boy Samuel Johnson, who when he became one of the great lights of English literature, used to speak of the incident, saying he had " a confused but somehow a sort of solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds and a long black hood." The royal hands whose touch was supposed to cure, were often sadly in need of healing, for Her Majesty 304 trbe Queen's Comrabe suffered grievously from gout in her fingers and from that reason was often unable to continue her ministra tions. However her vogue as a healer did not decrease with time, and those who sought her aid or her angel gold, were no longer admitted in indiscriminate crowds, but in the year 1705, according to notices in the Gazette, were obliged to bring a certificate to Her Majesty's sergeant-surgeon, signed by the minister and churchwardens of the parish in which they lived, that they had never before received the royal touch. As she and her spouse were devoted to the pleasures of the table, and as a consequence were continually ailing, medical men were in frequent attendance on them. That Her Majesty might have the best advice possible for her health. Lord Godolphin begged " that she would be pleased to reinstate Dr. Radcliffe as her physician " ; but remembering and resenting his former treatment of her she warmly replied, " No, Radcliffe shall never send me word again when I am IU, that my ailments are only vapours." RadcUffe who was a clever doctor and an honest man, to whom the world and his profession had taught cynicism, must have laughed when Anne refused to make him her physician, at the same time that she knighted and patronised William Read, once a tailor but now an oculist. This mark of royal favour was given him for his supposed curing " great numbers of seamen and soldiers of blindness gratis " ; and brought him such numbers of patients that his wife, who was as well qualified as himself for the purpose, looked to their eyes and /Ibountebanft anb ©culist 305 pocketed their fees with becoming gravity. Sir William Read drove a carriage and four, mixed with men of quality and learning, and entertained sumptuously. " Surely you have heard of him," writes Swift to Stella. " He has been a mountebank and is the Queen's oculist : he makes admirable punch and treats you in gold vessels." Dr. Radcliffe also drove a fine coach and four horses, for his services were In great demand and he amassed a large fortune, though he was far from free with his money and made a point of wrangling over his tradesmen's bills. And in respect to this meanness a story was laughingly told at the clubs, that when a man who had repaired the pavement in front of his house appUed for payment, RadcUffe refused it, saying the fellow had only spoUed it and then covered It with earth to hide his bad work ; on which he was answered ' ' WeU Doctor, ; mine is not the only bad work the earth hides." The pavement repaired was that In front of the piazza at Covent Garden, where people of fashion and wealth;then resided. Dr. Radcliffe's immediate neigh bour was none other than Sir Godfrey Kneller, who in the , first days of her reign painted a portrait of Anne which- now hangs at Windsor. Behind their houses stretched fairjgardens divided by a privet hedge and communicating by a door, through which Radcliffe's servants too frequently passed to cull Sir Godfrey's flowers. Irritated by this, the knight sent the doctor word that he would have the door shut, when back VOL. I. 20 3o6 trbe Queen's Comrabe came an answer " that he might do anything ^th it but paint it " ; to which message Sir Godfrey replied " he woiUd take anything from the doctor but his medicine." But such interchanges of wit did not make them less good friends ; and they two, in company with Dr. Samuel Garth, continued to crack many a sound bottle of claret at the Kit Cat Club, of which Garth was a leading spirit. Indeed he was not only a physician but a wit, and was as sociable as he was charitable ; for aU men praised and the poor loved him as the founder of dispensaries where the indigent received medical treatment and medicine free of charge ; whUst his memory is revered by men of letters for having, at his own expense, given Dryden "a solemn fiineral answerable to his merits " when the poor neglected poet was laid at rest in Westminster Abbey. WhUst the town gossiped about the Queen's writing four times a day to her favourite when absent ; or the buUding of her new banqueting haU at Kensington Palace ; or of her desire to re-instate Dr. Ken, Bishop of Bath and WeUs, in the see from which Queen Mary had driven him, even though he woidd not take the oaths of aUegiance to herself; or of her abolishing the bad custom introduced at the Restoration, of selUng offices and places at Court, Lord Marlborough as com mander of the English and Dutch forces abroad, was being subjected to continual vexations and trying disappointments caused by the timidity or jealousies of those under him. But whilst his plans were being "trbe incomparable Cbief" 307 thwarted, his temper severely tried, and his health suffered from incessant headaches, he set aside his personal grievances and sat down to write one of his charming love letters to his wife. " We have now very hot weather which I hope will ripen the fruit at St. Albans," he says when writing on July 17th, 1702. "When you are there pray think how happy I should be walking alone with you. No ambition can make me amends for being from you." All the troubles of "the incomparable chief" as he was called by one of those who had opposed his tactics, were compensated for when, two months later by his strategy and energy, Venloo was captured. The news brought joy to England and was seized on by the Queen as an opportunity to load him with fresh honour. The first hint of this intention was conveyed to his wife by the Queen in a letter written on October 22nd, 1702, which said. " I have had this evening the satisfaction of my dear Mrs. Freeman's of yesterday, for which I give you many thanks ; and though I think it a long time since I saw you, I do not desire you to come one minute sooner to town than is easy to you, but wUl wait with patience for the happy hour, and only beg when you do come, you would send for a coach and not make use of a chaise. Lord Treasurer intends to send you a copy of the address from the House of Lords, which is to be given me to-morrow, and that gives me an opportunity of mentioning a thing to you, that I did not intend to do yet. 3o8 trbe Queen's Comrabe " It is very uneasy to your poor unfortunate faithful Morley to think she has so very little in her power to show how truly sensible I am of all my Lord Marl borough's kindness, especially at a time when he deserves all a rich crown could give. But since there is nothing else at this time, I hope you will give me leave as soon as he comes, to make him a duke. I know my dear Mrs. Freeman does not care for any thing of that kind, nor I am not satisfied with it, because it does not enough express the value I have for Mrs. Freeman, nor nothing ever can how passionately I am yours dear Mrs. Freeman." At the same time Lady Marlborough received a note from the Lord Treasurer hinting that the Queen would say something which perhaps she might not like, " but," he adds, " I think it must be endured upon such an occasion, when it is visible to all the world, that it is not done upon your own account." News of the dignity intended for her husband came to her as a surprise ; and " was so unpleasant," as she states that " when I read the letter first upon it, I let it drop out of my hand, and was for some minutes like one that had received the news of the death of one of their dear friends ; I was so sorry for anything of that kind, having before all that was of any use. I fear you think what I say upon the subject is affected ; and therefore must repeat again, that it was more uneasy to me for a time than can easily be believed. I do think there is no advantage but in trbe S)ukebom of /ibarlborougb 309 going in at a door ; and when a rule is settled, I like as well to follow five hundred as one." When word was sent Lord Marlborough of the Queen's intentions, he immediately wrote to his wife begging that she might express the gratitude he felt towards Her Majesty for all her extraordinary goodness to him : " I shall have the happiness of being with you so soon " he adds " when I may advise with you more at large on this matter. But be assured that I shall have a mind to nothing, but as it may be easy to you. I do agree with you that we ought not to wish for a greater title, till we have a better estate." This letter was written on November 4th, and a few days later Lord Marlborough returned to England, After many consultations, he acceded to the Queen's wishes of making him a Duke, chiefly because of the consideration the title would give him with the allied Princes, when by letters patent he was created Marquis of Blandford and Duke of Marlborough, on December 14th, 1702. The Queen being anxious he should have means to support his new title, and that she might reward his services to herself and the country, had a few days previously sent a message to the House of Commons stating she had settled five thousand a year on him out of the post office for her own life ; and requesting her faithful Commons to devise a proper mode for settUng this grant on himself and his successors to the title. The message was received with coldness, and was then ardently debated. The majority held the views of Sir Christopher Musgrove, 3IO trbe Queen's Comrabe who whilst acknowledging the Duke's great services, thought they were well rewarded by the profitable posts held by himself and his family. Humiliated by the speeches which stirred the House and were rumoured through the town, the Duke begged Her Majesty to recall her application, which was accordingly done ; but this did not prevent the Commons from pointing out to her the danger of following an example set in the late reign, of bestowing the Crown revenues on royal favourites. Though they refused to settle this grant on his successsors they could not hinder the Queen from bestowing five thousand a year on him from the Privy Purse during her life. That the Tories should act as they did, turned the Duke against them and con firmed the Duchess in her Whig principles ; but what was more It lessened Her Majesty's favour to them ; feelings which presently bore fruit. Meanwhile the Queen, anxious to show her gratitude and affection to her friends, on the very day when the remonstrance was presented to her, wrote to the new-made Duchess saying she would not rest satisfied until she had done something towards making up for what had been so maliciously hindered in Parliament, " and therefore," she continues, " I desire my dear Mrs. Freeman and Mr. Freeman would be so kind as to accept of two thousand pounds a year out of the Privy Purse, besides the grant of the five. This can draw no envy for nobody need know it. Not that I would disown what I give to people that deserve, especiaUy where 'tis "tllnfortunate ^attbful /iborlei?'' 31* impossible to reward their deserts ; but you may keep it as a secret or not as you please. I beg my dear Mrs. Freeman would never any way give me an answer to this ; only comply with the desires of your poor unfortunate faithful Morley, that loves you most tenderly, and is with the sincerest passion imaginable yours." This generous offer was at the time declined by the Duchess, though years afterwards she accepted the annuity and claimed its arrears. In his History of Great Britain, Macpherson states that the refusal of the Tories to settle an annuity on Marlborough's heirs, was owing to his desertion of King James which they had not forgotten or forgiven. The same authority adds that ever since the accession of Anne, he had given promises of support to the King over the water. And though the Duke's zeal for King James's son had greatly lessened, the latter attributed it to the absorption and anxiety of his military affairs, rather than to a change in his views. For whilst abroad Marlborough had frequently ex pressed his attachment to the Prince of Wales, and as proof of his loyalty had given passes to his agents in England when they wished to enter France to carry information to their master. " But though he exposed himself to the laws of his country by this conduct, he had not the good fortune to satisfy those whom he affected to serve." As commander of the forces, the greatest general of his age, the man who above all others swayed Her 3T2 trbe Queen's Comrabe Majesty's Councils, Marlborough held a powerful position which if exerted might change the destiny of the nation ; seeing which the Court of St. Germains endeavoured to rouse his ambition and bind his interest to its own. For this purpose the dazzling proposal was made to him that a marriage might be arranged between his youngest daughter and the Prince of Wales. A union which might Involve the country in civil war fare could not be entered into without grave considera tion, and the negotiations lasted some time, during which the adherents of the House of Hanover, catching wind of the alliance, formed a scheme to marry Lady Mary Churchill to the Electoral Prince who afterwards became George II. At this the Jacobite members of Her Majesty's ministry became so alarmed that they intended to solicit the Queen to propose a marriage between her brother and Lady Mary ChurchiU. Research fails to show why none of these projects mentioned in the Stuart papers was carried out. Lady Mary was at this time the only unmarried daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough ; for Lady Betty her senior by two years had just been wooed and won by Scroop Egerton Earl of Bridgewater. She has been quaintly described as " a lady of exquisite fairness both of mind and body, agreeably tall, of a delicate shape and beautiful mien, and of a most obliging winning carriage." Queen Anne with her usual generosity gave the bride a dowry of ten thousand pounds ; her kind intention being expressed in the foUowing letter addressed to her favourite. " My 5Lorb Blanbforb 313 Lord Bridgewater being in haste to be married, I cannot any longer delay telling my dear Mrs. Freeman what I have intended a great while, that I hope she will now give me leave to do what I had a mind to do when dear Lady Henrietta was married ; and let me speak to Lord Treasurer about it when I see him that your poor unfortunate faithful Morley may not be any occasion of delay to other people's happiness." Great as the affection was which the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough had for their daughters, their hope and pride was centred in their only surviving son, John, Lord Blandford. A youth of great promise he was singularly handsome and graceful, high-spirited, with a quick mind and winning ways. He had been sent at an early age to Eton where he gained some distinction and made many friends. It being his parents' wish that he should become a courtier, they intended him to fill the place of Master of the Horse to the Duke of Gloucester ; but that youth dying. Lord Blandford was sent to Cambridge. Had his own tastes been consulted he would have joined the Army and served under his distinguished father, but Lady Marlborough dreading the dangers of a military life would not hear of his becoming a soldier at his age. He resolved however that when old enough he would join the Army and at the same time obtain a commission in the cavalry for his friend Horace Walpole. Whilst he was at Cambridge, Lord Godolphin, who was living close by at Newmarket, describes him as being very lean, but tractable, and 314 trbe Queen's Comrabe good humoured and without any ill-inclination, " And I think " says his lordship in writing to the lad's mother, " he is grown more solid than he was, and has lost that impatience of diverting himself all manner of ways, which he used to have." In another letter Lord Godolphin assures Lady Marlborough that " her pretty son " is not only the best natured and most agreeable " but the most free-thinking and reasonable creature that one can imagine for his age." But whilst these good reports were being sent to London, news reached also that the dreaded scourge of smaU-pox had broken out in Cambridge and was work ing sad havoc there. Lord Blandford was immediately moved to Lord Godolphin's residence at Newmarket where, " though the smaU-pox has been in this town," says the minister, " yet he, going into no house but mine, will I hope be more defended from it by air or riding without any violent exercise, than he could probably be anywhere else." But this letter had scarcely reached Lady Marlborough when tidings followed that her idolised son was stricken by this terrible disease. Quick as horses could carry her, she was beside him, to find that the attack was serious. Additional medical aid was summoned from London, when Anne sent two Court physicians in one of the royal carriages with a note that said " I writ two words to my dear Mrs. Freeman and could not help telling her again that I am truly afflicted for the melancholy account that is come this morning of poor Lord Blandford. I pray God he may do well and THE MARQUIS OF BLANDFORD. Page 314.] 2)eatb of Xorb Blanbforb 31s support you. And give me leave once more to beg you, for Christ Jesus' sake, to have a care of your dear precious self, and believe me with aU the passion imaginable, your poor unfortunate faithful Morley." The boy's father, distracted by fear and suspense also wrote, " I am so troubled at the sad condition this poor child seems to be in that I know not what to do. I pray God to give you some comfort in this great affliction. If you think anything under heaven can be done, pray let me know it, or if you think my coming can be of the least use, let me know it. I beg I may hear as soon as possible, for I have no thought but what is at Cambridge." The answer did not reach him as quickly as his impatience could desire and he wrote again expressing his disappointment and his fears. " If we must be so unhappy as to lose this poor child," he writes, "|I pray God to enable us both to behave ourselves with that resignation which we ought to do. If this uneasiness which I now lie under should last long, I think I could not live. For God's sake if there be any hope of recovery let me know it." No such blessed news was to reach him, for the messenger who had galloped at full speed from Cambridge brought him word that the boy was sinking ; and Lord Marlborough only reached the bedside of his son to find him in the last agony of death, which took place on February 20th, 1703. Lord Blandford's remains were buried In King's College Chapel, where a monument was erected to his memory. 3i6 trbe Queen's Comrabe Universal regret followed the extinction of his promising life. Broken with grief the parents retired to their home near St. Albans, the wealth, honour, and position they had gained, seeming but worthless things in the face of their affliction. Innumerable letters of sympathy poured In on them, in which that of the "poor unfortunate faithful Morley," as Anne styled herself since the death of the Duke of Gloucester, was full of tender sorrow. She had immediately offered to join her friend that she might comfort her In her great need, but Lady Marlborough felt she must bear the first shock of her misery in solitude. Therefore the Queen, as Anne now was, wrote to her — " It would have been a great satisfaction to your poor unfortunate faithful Morley, if you would have given me leave to come to St. Albans, for the un fortunate ought to come to the unfortunate. But since you wiU not have me, I must content myself as well as I can till I have the happiness of seeing you here. I know nothing worth writing, but if I did I should not trouble you with it, being sure no sort of news can be agreeable to your dear heavy heart. God Almighty bless and comfort my dear Mrs. Freeman, and be assured I will live and die sincerely yours." Lord Marlborough was obliged to leave England in March and direct the campaign abroad ; but the excite ment and claims of his duties could not make him forget his intense sorrow. In one of his letters he speaks of having seen a great procession at Cologne, and the thought of how it would have pleased his son, filled Ipossibilit^ of anotber Son 317 him with sadness. " Since it has pleased God to take him," he adds, " I do wish from my soul I could think less of him." Some gleam of hope came to him when he was presently given to understand that he might yet become the father of another son. " I have just now," he writes to his wife, " received your letters of the 6th. What you say to me of yourself gave me so much joy, that if any company had been by when I read your letter, they must have observed a great alteration in me." In another of his communications he tells her that If she had not positively desired him to burn her letters, he would have been very glad to have kept her last, " it was so very kind and particularly so upon the subject of our living quietly together, till which happy time comes I am sure I cannot be contented ; and then I do flatter myself I should live with as much satisfaction as I am capable of." He adds that he wishes he could recall the last twenty years, " for no other reason but that I might In probability have longer time, and be the better able to convince you how truly sensible I am at this time of your kindness, which is the only real comfort of my life ; and whilst you are kind, besides the many blessings it brings me, I cannot but hope we shall yet have a son, which are my daily prayers." Evidence of his intense love of wife and family are to be found in most of his letters. In one he reminds Lady Marlborough how happy she should be in having their-youngest daughter Mary with her. 3i8 trbe Queen's Comrabe declaring he would be so, could he but enjoy her com pany for an hour or so sometimes ; for the greatest delight he had was to sit in his chair in solitude for an hour or so, thinking of the happiness he might yet have of living quietly with his wife, " which is the greatest I propose to myself in the world." In the midst of his duties he is disturbed by hearing she is iU. " What troubles me in aU this time " he writes " Is your teUing me that you do not look well. Pray let me have in one of your letters an account how you do. If it should prove such a sick ness as that I might pity you, yet not be sorry for it, it might make me yet have more ambition. But if your sickness be reaUy want of health, it would render me the unhappiest man Uving." Lady Marlborough was evidently unable to give him any reassuring news of herself, and he writes to her again more fervidly. " I am so very uneasy since I received yours of the 23rd of the last month, that I shaU have no rest tiU I hear again from you, for your health is much dearer to me than my own. It is impossible for me to express what I feel, having seen by my lord treasurer of the same post, that he thought you very far from being well. For God's sake let me know exactly how you are ; and if you think my being with you can do you any good, you shaU quickly see you are much dearer to me than fame or whatever the world can say ; for should you do otherwise than weU, I were the unhappiest man living." after trwents«five l^ears 319 But one more letter wUl be given here of Lord Marlborough, who after five and twenty years of married life expresses the ardent affection of a bride groom, for a wife whose quick temper and dominant wUl did not always make life smooth for him. " I have received yours ofthe 23rd which has given me, as you may easily believe, a good deal of trouble," he writes. " I beg you will be so kind and just to me, as to believe the truth of my heart, that my greatest concern Is for that of your own dear health. It was a great pleasure to me when I thought that we should be blessed with more children ; but as aU my happiness centres in living quietly with you, I do conjure you by all the kindness I have for you, which is as much as ever man had for woman, that you wiU take the best advice you can for your health, and then follow exactly what shall be prescribed for you ; and I do hope you will be so good as to let me have an exact account of it, and what the physician's opinions are. If I were with you I would endeavour to persuade you to think as little as is possible of worldly business and to be very regular in your diet, which I should hope would set you right in a very little time, for you have naturally a very good constitution. " You and I have great reason to bless God for all we have, so that we must not repine at His taking our poor child from us, but bless and praise Him for what His goodness leaves us. And I do beseech Him with all my heart and soul that He would strengthen and comfort both you and me, not only to bear this, but 320 XLbc Queen's Comrabe any other correction that He shall think fit to lay on us. The use I think we should make of His correction is, that our chiefest time should be spent in reconciling ourselves to Him, and having in our minds always that we may not have long to live in this world. ... I am very sensible of my own frailties, but if I can ever be so happy as to be always with you, and that you comfort and assist me in these my thoughts, I am then persuaded I should be as happy and contented as it is possible to be be in this world." Lady Mary Churchill, now the only unmarried daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough, was not less attractive than her sisters, and before reaching the age of seventeen received proposals of marriage from Lords Huntingdon, TuUibardine, Mordaunt, and Monthermer. The latter, the eldest son of the Earl of Montagu was accepted and their marriage took place in 1705. The Earl of Montagu who, soon after, by the influence of the Marlborough family was created a duke, was a notable figure. A man of middle stature " inclin ing to fat and of a coarse dark complexion," he delighted in pompous display to which he devoted his wealth ; and on being sent on embassies to France by Charles II. , had exhibited a magnificence that astonished Paris. By his first wife, the widow of Josceline Percy, eleventh and last Earl of Northumberland, he had gained a great fortune, and at her death in 1690, his choice of a second wife fell upon the widow of Christopher Monk, Duke of Albemarle who was the possessor of vast wealth. Some slight difficulty barred trbe /ibab 2)ucbess 321 the way to his wooing, for the Duchess being mad, declared she would wed none but a monarch ; but my Lord Montagu being a man of resources was equal to the occasion, for gravely assuring her that he was the Emperor of China, he succeeded In in ducing her to become his wife in 1691. Like many a saner woman the poor lady placed implicit faith in her husband's representation of himself, and from their wedding-day exacted from all who approached her, the profound respect due to the exalted station she imagined she had gained, and until the day of her death, some thirty years later, insisted on her servants serving her meals on their knees. The money which his first wife brought him was spent by Lord Montagu, not only in rebuUding the famUy seat at Broughton in Northamptonshire, but in erecting a town house in Bloomsbury. This was unfortunately burnt down in 1686 : when he rebuilt it on a scale of greater magnificence and at a cost of about fifty thousand pounds. It was then known as Montagu House, and afterwards became the British Museum. In this residence the Empress lived in secluded if Celestial state, neither relatives nor friends being per mitted to see and disturb her imperial solitude. As a result rumours were soon spread abroad that the Empress was dead, but that her demise was kept secret by her husband in order that he might enjoy her dowry of seven thousand a year, which at her death would revert to her nephew the Earl of Bath. VOL. I. 21 322 trbe Queen's Comrabe This supposition spread and strengthened, until pro ceedings were taken in the Court of Queen's Bench, when her husband was compelled to satisfy a creditable witness that she Uved. He therefore consented, that she should be seen and spoken to by Madame d' Auverquerque, Lord Bath's aunt. This was accord ingly done, and the latter duly testified that the Empress still existed. But not satisfied with this, the Duke of Montagu's enemies insisted that as Madame d' Auverquerque had never known the mad Duchess, she could easily be imposed on, and the public continued to believe her Celestial majesty had quitted this sphere, until her husband died In March 1709, when she was found still living. Her sisters the Duchess of Newcastle and the Countess of Thanet then visited and strove to persuade her to live with them ; but she would not consent to leave the suite of apartments which had for many years constituted her empire. " Now that the Duke of Montagu is dead," writes Peter Wentworth, " there's great contending who shall have the keeping of the Duchess of Albemarle. The Duchess of Montagu (Lady Mary ChurchiU) have declared she'll have nothing to do with her. It lyes between my Lord Thanet and the D. of Newcastle, whose wives are the mad Duchess's sisters. 'Tis supposed the Duke of Newcastle wUl have her as one of the best interest, tho' 'tis said if she's to be disposed of as the law directs, there's a Lord Pirpoint her uncle has the most right to her." She was eventually placed 3Bs ©ne IDote 323 under the care of the Duke of Newcastle ; so that her Celestial Court was moved to Clerkenwell where New castle House was situated: and in that residence she died in August 1734. Whilst generous and considerate to her favourites. Queen Anne was not forgetful of her Consort, of whom in her phlegmatic way she was very fond, though from the weakness of his character he had no influence over her. Therefore when she was settled on the throne she desired her Parliament to make a settlement on Prince George of one hundred thousand a year, in case of his surviving herself. Owing to her wide popularity this was passed without difficulty ; but objections were made to a clause in the grant stipulating that he should continue to hold his present offices if he outlived his Consort. After some debates in the Commons and violent disputes in the Lords, during which the Marl boroughs and Her Majesty's friends exerted themselves In a matter she greatly desired, the Bill was passed by a majority of one vote. Eager to express her gratitude for the concern her friends had taken in her cause, the Queen immediately wrote to the Duchess of Marlborough — " I am sure that the Prince's Bill passing after so much struggle is wholly owing to the pains you and Mr. Freeman have taken, and I ought to say a great deal to both of you in return, but neither words nor actions can ever express the true sense Mr. Morley and I have of your sincere kindness on this and all other occasions ; and therefore I will not say any more 324 trbe Queen's Comrabe on this subject, but that to my last moment, your dear unfortunate faithful Morley will be most passionately and tenderly yours." The time was now at hand when fierce excitement was felt in Court and Parliament owing to the Non conformity Bill. In the reign of Charles II. it had been made obligatory by Act of Parliament that all who held office or appointment should receive the sacrament according to the rights of the Established Church. During the reign of William, himself a dissenter, many who were not members of the Church of England, had complied with this obligation, as a preliminary to taking office, and had then continued to worship in their own dissenting chapels. As the dissenters were chiefly Whigs, the Tories resolved to Introduce an Act which would hinder them from holding any post under Government, or compel them to become worshippers in the Church of England. Accordingly a Bill was framed which enabled the law to inflict a fine of five pounds on any person holding a public office who attended a meeting of dissenters, and to suspend him from his office until he had shown his repentance by conforming to the Established Church for twelve months. In November 1702 it passed the Commons by a large majority, but was flung out by the Lords, where to please the Queen, her husband who was a staunch Lutheran voted for it. The follow ing year it was introduced once more, but this time Prince George did not support it, and it met with the same fate. As a result some of the Tory ministers. anne's trbreat of abbication 325 amongst them Lord Rochester, the Queen's uncle. Lord Nottingham, her Secretary of State, and Lord Jersey resigned or were replaced by Whigs ; Robert Harley and St. John being the only Tories of note who remained in the Ministry. The Duke of Marlborough, who, always inclined to peace, strove to maintain a temperate mean between the extremes of each section, was at this time much censured by both regarding his foreign policy ; so that he declared his resolution of retiring from a position in which he " could not obtain the support or even the Indulgence of either party." This idea was immediately carried to the Queen by the Duchess, who threatened that both she and Lord Godolphin would retire at the same time. The feelings of Her Majesty are best expressed in her ardent letter to the favourite which says : " The thoughts that both my dear Mrs. Freeman and Mr. Freeman seem to have of retiring gave me no small uneasiness, and therefore I must say something on that subject. It is no wonder at all that people in your posts should be weary of the world, who are so continuaUy troubled with aU the hurry and impertinences of it : but give me leave to say you should a little consider your faithful friends and poor country which must be ruined if ever you put your melancholy thoughts into execution. As for your poor unfortunate faithful Morley, she could not bear it ; for if ever you should forsake me, I would have nothing more to do with the world, but make another abdication ; for VOL. I. 22 326 trbe Queen's Comrabe what is a crown when the support of it" is gone ? I never will forsake your dear self, Mr. Freeman, nor Mr. Montgomery (Lord Godolphin) but always be your constant and faithful friend ; and we four must never part till death mows us down with his impartial hand." END OF VOL. I. Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury, ?lt.iy^H'!i^..i.Ml'..¦|: .Hit . 'i h'l'i' i'l'.: ' 1 ¦ 4? .t-- ^'li -; ;.i '-i }• ,f I '1' , I ¦1^1,. .|. . sr I .1 1 1 1 I I I I ' { 1 < 1^ I I ¦'^__jijfel'Mi'h-''-f'__:i_ ji;!lsiiiiJi]i^i;fist!iiii;i I I I . .1' ii 1. 1 ll. I II 1 I 'I Hi I i; r Mill '. ¦ .. .1 ! I I! 1: 'i. I ll UN .1 .1 1 .'J.Ul.i.i.. II. '^ I'M' >¦ ¦ t il Iiiiil ¦;ilV'iii''ii!lMfl:»*iMI