by Ron Pearse
COUSIN ABIGAIL
By Ron Pearse
“..the woman who brought peace to Europe.”
Louis XIVth 1638-1715
“....the lowliest person who ever decided the history of a continent.”
Winston Churchill 1874-1965
ISBN 978-90-822741-2-7
Published by Kingspawn at Smashwords
Copyright 2015 Ron Pearse
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Contents
Foreword
Part 1: Servant
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Part 2: Wife
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Part 3: Nurse
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Part 4: Peacemaker
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Part 5: Peer
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Afterword
Foreword
There is talk today of a gulf between the rich and the poor people of England. In contrast in the time of this story there was a huge disparity between the lower and higher classes, between commoners and the nobility; that was as great a gulf. Yet, a pauper, a woman named Abigail Hill managed to bridge that gulf. Through misfortune she had lost her parents and thereby made the acquaintance of a cousin, Sarah Jennings, some years her senior whose parents were also dead but who had however met and married John Churchill, later the famous Duke of Marlborough.
Sarah looked after Abigail and her three siblings finding Abigail a position in the queen’s household, that of bedchamber-woman, one of whose menial jobs was to empty the queen’s chamber-pot. Through diligence and kindness however Abigail became a warm companion to her majesty, Queen Anne, who suffered, apart from losing many children in childbirth, from dropsy, gout, rheumatism and lack of sleep worrying about the plight of legless and armless soldiers seen daily on the streets of London, England then being at war with France in the War of the Spanish Succession.
In the workplace she answered to ‘Hill’ and ended her working life as Lady Abigail Masham: this is her story.
PART 1: SERVANT
Chapter 1
Some half a mile from the city centre of St Albans, off Cottonmill Lane, situated in its own grounds, is a well-appointed, if modest house. It is just after nine o'clock on a day in the year 1693, in the month of September. It has been raining which has discouraged Abigail from leaving the house to walk in the garden, although she has been up and about many hours about the business of house clearance preparatory to leaving her parents' home for good.
She looks through an upstairs window as the gardener and his young helpers pile more wood onto a blazing bonfire. The fierce crackling made as the fire consumes the wood makes her wonder about its age and dryness and how long her parents owned the cupboard, now broken up with lusty strokes from the gardener's hatchet, shouting to his children to keep well away from him as the pieces fly in all directions. The panelling succumbs easily but the stout hardwood frame resists the heavy blows from his axe yet finally the cupboard is no more. Abigail watches as a little boy picks up the shattered remnants hugging them to his chest before dropping them before the fire and hurling the individual pieces into the flames.
Hugging the frame of the window, Abigail looks speculatively to her left for any signs of the woman directing the operations but Sarah Churchill remains hidden, probably in a doorway, out of the rain, although now there is a temporary lull in the downpour. Then she hears her voice calling to Mistress Chudleigh and she directs her gaze to a farm wagon. Abigail watches as the stout, grey haired woman walks over and stands before her mistress, still hidden, with a respectful: "Your ladyship!"
Abigail gently releases the catch of the sash window and eases the bottom half of the frame open in order better to overhear her cousin's next words: "A word!" She strains to listen to the discourse but the women seem to have moved away as Mrs Chudleigh is now out of sight. Yet it seems she has missed nothing for she hears Chudleigh reply: "Ma'am?" and listens intently, hardly daring to breathe, let alone change her stance. Lady Churchill says: "We can safely leave the gardener to burn the remainder. Discover where Mistress Abigail is hiding herself." and just in time, Abigail retreats as the housekeeper looks up, replying: "I'm sure she be above, ma'am."
Then Lady Churchill's voice reaches Abigail clearly: "Tell her, I would like to be on our way." And as the woman does her mistress' bidding, Abigail is alerted again to Sarah's shrill command, this time directed into the garden: "Tom! Take off the nosebags." the rest is lost as Abigail hears the housekeeper on the stairs. She picks up her bag, already packed pausing to take a final look around the room occupied so many years by her parents and is interrupted as Mrs Chudleigh appears on the landing outside the room, and anxious to forestall the anticipated call, walks through the door standing in front of the housekeeper whose mouth is already open to speak, snapping shut to her annoyance but to Abigail's inner satisfaction.
As she descends the stairs she hears Sarah through the open back door still reminding her gardener of something and his response: "Yes, your ladyship!" followed by Sarah's peremptory command: "When everything is burnt, Atkins, trample down the ashes. See no burning embers are left. Water it, if the rain has stopped, and you think it's necessary.”
Mentally Abigail pictures Atkins touching the hair drooping over his forehead in age-old subservience muttering resignedly: "Yes, your ladyship." Her cousin never seems to tire hearing her title newly acquired and Abigail wonders if Sarah Jennings ever existed. The gardener speaks again: "Your ladyship, ma'am. Uhh! The artefacts!"
Sarah replies: "What artefacts?" To which Atkins answers: "The mortar and pestle; the phials, bottles, and what-not." And she suddenly seems to recall of what he speaks, saying: "Doctor Glanville says to smash them and bury the pieces." At these words Abigail's heart sinks for the artefacts are among her mother's prized possessions, the tools of her calling. Despair rises in her breast because she wanted to keep them so that one day she might take up where her mother had left off, perforce by her death, but it was not to be. More influential people such as Doctor Glanville representing the medical establishment would not want them to survive; so much for Sarah's professions of support for her cousin.
Abigail is interrupted in these sad ruminations by the sight of a black-coated man in a top hat entering the garden. She watches as her cousin bristles drawing herself to her full five feet, five and a half inches, and barks at the man: "You are late, bailiff, and I dare say you have come now just to collect your fee. My gardener does the work and you collect the fruits of his labour, without doing anything. Your fee, I believe, was two guineas." Snob or not, Abigail admired Sarah at this moment doing, saying what she would not dare to say.
The bailiff was not overly surprised and did not immediately reply but looked about him a
nd spotting the gardener holding the box of artefacts, said to him: "I'll take that; Mister Atkins, is it not." Then turning jauntily to Sarah, looking distinctly sour, he said: "The box may safely be left with me ma'am. I believe the charge for my services was agreed at three pounds, if you please."
Her ladyship humphed speaking to her gardener: "Be sure you oversee its destruction, Atkins!" and handed three coins over to him with the added remonstrance: "Do not pay him a single piece until you see with your own eyes its destruction. Come Tom, let's be on our way."
As they moved towards the wagon, Sarah suggested to the driver: "Tom, I shall sit up front beside you." Then turning round to Abigail, asked: "Are you ready cousin?"
Her peremptory tone had impressed Tom, Mrs Chudleigh and they hurried to heed her words, but when Abigail hung back, she turned to her with a puzzled expression: "What ails you, cousin?"
"A want of feeling, perhaps; my father dead just weeks ago and now poor mother. Everything sold to pay our debts and the remains cleared out and even burned." Then looking wistfully at her mother's box of artefacts, added: "My mother's life's work about to be destroyed." Then looking Sarah directly in the face said, disarmingly: "I'm ‘mazed by your coolness, your ladyship."
Mrs Chudleigh shocked by Abigail's seeming reproof, said, out of Sarah's hearing: "Be more respectful, mistress. Lady Churchill showing every mark of respect to you and yours; ‘tis ingratitude. You should show some respect!"
Her ladyship was being helped into the seat by Tom and would have missed her servant's rebuke, but she, irritated that she was ready to leave and they were not, called over: "What be you playing at mistress! Get into the wagon, at once, both of you!"
Abigail and Mrs Chudleigh exchanged glances without words and heeding Sarah's words, they got into the open wagon finding themselves makeshift seats. Tom, meanwhile jumped down to secure the backboard to Sarah's obvious chagrin, but Tom had another motive which he hastened to demonstrate, addressing Abigail, sternly:
"Lady Churchill gave e ten guineas for things just a week back. Ungrateful, I calls it." Abigail did not reply to Tom but waited while he ascended to resume his seat beside Lady Churchill, then said:
"Ten guineas, eh! Two guineas for funeral and the rest in fees to Doctor Glanville. Lady Churchill might as well have given him the money and be done with it."
Sarah turned and speaking directly to her cousin, said: "Lord! That don't make sense. How mean you?"
Tom had meanwhile turned round and exchanged silent if meaningful looks with Mrs Chudleigh while Abigail responded to Sarah, thus:
"Doctor Glanville charged mother twice his normal fee on account of her illness being the small pocks." She looked softly at Sarah: "I'm not ungrateful cousin. Your ten guineas was welcome, very welcome and very generous."
She paused and then said almost wistfully: "Thanks be to you cousin and the Good Lord, she got some very good meals afore she died. Otherwise your money was well spent."
Mrs Chudleigh spoke loudly wanting her mistress to hear: "See what Lady Churchill did for thy brothers and sister. By the bye, where be they?"
Sarah smiled, with satisfaction, answering: "Alice is entered into the household of lady Davenport and young Jack and his brother are at school."
Mrs Chudleigh turned in triumph to Abigail: "See mistress! It's not everybody as cares for their folk like her ladyship."
Sarah said modestly: "Now Mrs Chudleigh enough of that. Tom, you must have given up on us ladies, you are so patient. Shall we be on our way?"
Tom Sawyer spoke his commands to the horses and the wagon turned out of the garden through the derelict wooden gates and into Cottonmill Lane, and both women at the back needed to hold on tight as the wagon bumped along the rutted road. There were potholes which the recent rain had filled with muddy water and both women bent inwards in an attempt to dodge the worst of the splashes.
Mistress Chudleigh eyed Abigail askance. She was getting above herself. In all her years with the gentry she had never dared to say anything untoward and this woman had shamed her. She repeated her earlier complaint: "Indeed Mistress Abigail, it's not everybody as cares for their folk as does her ladyship. Such ungraciousness!"
She had whispered the reproof but unfortunately for her the wagon went over a short patch of grass and Mrs Chudleigh experienced the ignominy of a reproof from her mistress: "Now Mrs Chudleigh, enough of that." Then she turned to Tom to ask: "How far be it, Tom?" getting no immediate response as Sawyer was talking to and encouraging his team.
Finally satisfied with them he turned to Sarah: "Funny beasts they be. You need to encourage them from time to time. I should say, as soon as we get atop this rise ma'am, Holywell House be about half a mile distant as the road be dead straight ahead."
Abigail eyed her fellow passenger with amusement and as if to rub salt in the wound said loudly: "We could have saved mother's box. She treated so many of the local people while living at Cottonmill Lane. And cured many! Who is to see to their needs now? "
Then as nobody deigned a comment, she continued, with an amused look at Mrs Chudleigh: "I think I know why, perhaps. Doctor Glanville wanted it destroyed. All the remedies and cures gone for ever."
Tom said caustically: "Didn't do 'er much good, mistress." He shared Mrs Chudleigh's distaste for Abigail's brazenness feeling that her ladyship ought to be defended, but Abigail retorted: "Nor did Doctor Glanville; for all his expensive fees. He's near five guineas better off and mother lies dead."
Tom called: "Whoa up, my beauties!" and the wagon came gradually to a halt and he jumped down to lead the team by the bridle into the yard of Holywell House stopping beside a hitching post before turning to his mistress, offering his hand as she climbed down, while saying: "Undo the backflap for the ladies, there's a good man,"
He did as bid offering his hand first to Mrs Chudleigh who got down with his help whereupon he walked away to attend to his horses, but Sarah addressed her housekeeper: "Help my cousin down, Mrs Chudleigh!" followed moments later by a scream from her:
"Ahhhhh! She has the small pocks. I knows it. Me own sister 'ad it. Don’t no-one go near 'er!"
Sarah rebuked her, now irritated: "What mean you, mistress?" who somewhat miffed said defiantly:
"Look at them spots missus, I mean, ma'am. And, the rash on her neck." Then addressing Abigail still seated in the wagon, said to her:
"Show her ladyship, mistress!"
Sarah not waiting for Abigail approached the rear of the wagon and walked round to Abigail, asking: "Let me see!"
Tom, taking also an interest in the proceedings told his mistress:
"Don't let her speak. That's how contagion spreads."
Sarah mindful of her driver's words yet wanting to keep control of the situation told Abigail:
"Lord! Heed what mister Sawyer says, but give me your hand, cousin. Come!"
Tom was almost panic stricken, shouting: "No, don't ma'am. Don’t touch her!" Now Sarah cast a disdainful look at Sawyer, as if to imply, her separation as mistress from that of servant:
"Come cousin! Give me your hand! Hold on to the side to steady yourself. Jump!" Then she turned to Chudleigh:
"What think you, Mrs Chudleigh, a bedroom on the second floor. She cannot share with anyone now. Off you go. Make the arrangements!” Then, as an afterthought called to her departing figure:
"If the children be back, keep them well away from the stairs."
The housekeeper suddenly stopped having spotted a young woman whom she recognised turning round to Sarah to comment almost reproachfully:
"I understood mistress Alice was away in service, ma'am. She be here." Sarah commented: "She starts tomorrow, and just as well. Tell her to keep to her room for the time being."
Then it was Tom's turn: "And Master Jack, ma'am!"
Sarah was momentarily taken by surprise falling back on her favourite exclamation: "Lord! Master Jack. When be he home from school? Tom, be a good man and keep him with you until we have mistress Abigail sett
led. Is that alright?"
Sawyer said grudgingly: "Have to be ma'am."
As both servants vanished from sight about their duties leaving Lady Churchill and Abigail alone, the latter looking very disconsolate at the dread news she had just heard, as well she might, for in the matter of moments, her life expectancy had just diminished by a factor of seven to ten.
It was her cousin who demonstrated both self assurance and open heartedness in trying to put her cousin at ease:
"Cousin Abigail. The Hills, your family, are now part of my family. Holywell House is your home, like it be ours."
She pointed at the House just yards away indicating the pathway saying: "I'm going up the path to the house now. You just follow me. I'll be taking you to your room which Mrs Chudleigh is now getting ready. The room will be your home for a little while, but be of good cheer. We'll soon have you on the mend. I'll send for the doctor tomorrow to come and see you."
It was not lost upon Abigail that it would probably be Doctor Glanville, the same physician she had railed against only moments before, but Sarah appeared not to have considered it. She added:
"Do you feel hot? Oh, lord! Like Tom said don't say a thing. I'll walk in front. Keep a little distance. Ready? Off we go!"
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Lady Churchill stood at an upstairs window looking out over the fields where there was much activity; two workmen were rebuilding a hedge, another swept over the grass at daisy level cropping tall grass with his long scythe while she watched a man in gaiters emerging from a copse with a bundle of sticks under his arm. In the next field a herd of cows either chomped grass or stood chewing their cud occasionally letting out a roaring moo. Sarah could not but wonder at the activities of two men armed with measuring devices, the one holding a stick vertically in the air while the other seemed to observe him through an instrument waving his hand at the other who moved left or right.