‘We have upon several occasions, including today, observed your ladyship’s daughter, her carriage and behaviour in company,’ the Duchess began. ‘We find reason to compliment your ladyship upon their excellence.’
‘Your Royal Highness is very kind,’ Lady Churchill answered, bowing from the waist as she decided it was not necessary to get up again to curtsey.
‘That being so,’ the Duchess went on. ‘We have a wish to add her to the number of our maids of honour. We have the King’s approval for this.’
Since Lady Churchill seemed to be too much overwhelmed by the unexpected honour to speak or move, Arabella stepped forward, made a very deep curtsey, remained upon one knee and bent her head to kiss the hand the Duchess stretched out to her.
‘My Chamberlain will make all the necessary arrangements,’ her Royal Highness said, beginning to rise. This brought Lady Churchill out of her astonishment, so that both she and Arabella were able to curtsey again with laudable steadiness as the Duchess took leave of them before she herself, supported by her ladies in waiting and her gentlemen in attendance, left the room.
Sir Winston received this news with undisguised pleasure.
‘We are indeed blessed in receiving such favour from the Crown,’ he said in an awed voice.
‘Her Grace used the royal ‘we’ in conferring it,’ Lady Churchill remarked. ‘She who was but the daughter of the King’s Minister of State when she yielded to the Prince.’
‘Fie, for shame!’ her husband chided. ‘You speak treason! And coarse, vulgar treason at that! Would you deny our Arabella this promotion?’
‘No, I would not.’ Lady Churchill was emphatic. ‘I love the poor child and fear for her, since her face will never be fair, though she dances gracefully, nor her fortune grow, besides, to make up for her lack of beauty.’
Sir Winston rallied to his daughter’s defence.
‘You are too hard upon the wench. She hath a kindly nature and an even temper, though perhaps a little indiscreet in her approach to men. With the opportunities before her now at Court she must surely find a husband of high degree and substance. I give thanks to God for His goodness to us and ours.’
Lady Churchill agreed, with reservations. The Duke’s Court was less spectacular than the King’s; the former Ann Hyde was at heart a very ordinary woman and now, it seemed, devoted to child-bearing in hope of supplying possible heirs to the throne. But Arabella, so lately arrived in London, so young, so ignorant? Well, her plain face should be her protection, poor lamb, until she grew wise to the ways of this new, hotly pleasure-seeking, thoughtless, glittering world of a magnificence long sought, pursued and restored.
Chapter Four
The duchess of York’s patronage did not end with Arabella’s appointment as one of her maids of honour. The Duke too became aware of the existence of the Churchill family. They appeared at Court more frequently. Sir Winston was seen in the corridors of Whitehall, not only in his office. It was not very long before his eldest son, much to the latter’s openly expressed satisfaction, escaped the rigours of academic Oxford and found himself, soon after he left St. Paul’s school, appointed to be a page in the household of Prince James, Duke of York, Lord High Admiral of the Fleet. At this time Arabella had been in the service of the Duchess for about a year.
John was delighted with the appointment, for it seemed to him it must bring him into contact with the country’s principal organ of defence and attack, the Royal Navy. And what better than to be in closer personal touch with the head of the Navy, to learn directly and by correct report the complicated rules and running of the Navy Office, whose officials were in continual contact with the Duke. Surely this gave him just what he sought. It bore out the knowledge of warfare he had studied and the ideas he had formed while at school.
The Churchills at this time had made their home in Westminster to be near Sir Winston’s office as Clerk Comptroller of the Green Cloth. Also to be near their three children, now all in the service of the Royal brothers. brothers. For in addition to Arabella, maid of honour to the Duchess, and John, page in the household of the Duke, young George, through the kind offices of the Earl of Arlington, Secretary of State, had become a page to the Earl of Sandwich.
The circle of appointments and connections was close. Lord Sandwich was head of the executive of the Navy. Under the Duke it was Sandwich who ruled the Navy Office, directed its officials and was at all times duty bound to inform the Duke and through him the King, of the needs and therefore demands, of the Fleet. Young George and also his brother John, found themselves employed upon occasion in the role of messenger upon the reciprocal business of their masters.
One day John, carrying a message from the Duke to the Earl of Sandwich, thought to be with the Court at Whitehall, came across Mr. Samuel Pepys, of the Navy Office, walking alone in one of the long galleries of the palace.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ John said politely. ‘I believe you may be able to inform me of the whereabouts of my Lord of Sandwich.’
‘And why do you think so?’ Mr. Pepys asked, smiling.
He was flattered by the boy’s assumption and had guessed where he came from. Also, having always a keen eye for beauty in human kind, he heartily approved of the young man’s fresh good looks and very civil manners.
His question surprised John but did not disconcert him.
‘Because, sir,’ he answered. ‘In attendance upon my master, His Highness, the Duke, I have upon occasion observed you in conference with him upon matters concerning the Fleet, where my Lord Sandwich——’
‘Just so,’ said Mr. Pepys, growing impatient with this over long explanation.
He hesitated before giving any real answer to the youth’s question. The truth was he did not exactly know where Lord Sandwich was at that moment. He had expected to meet him in this gallery and he had not come. It appeared he could not be with the Duke since this young page had a written message from the latter.
‘Just so,’ he repeated, stalling for time and looking about him, while John waited respectfully.
A figure appeared in the gallery, approaching rapidly. Mr. Pepys moved to meet him. It was the Duke’s secretary, William Coventry. John heard the newcomer say, ‘My Lord decided to betake him straight to the Duke. He expects us both at St. James’s.’
Mr. Pepys looked back over his shoulder.
‘You heard?’ he asked. ‘You have your answer.’
And he walked away with Mr. Coventry, leaving John to go back to St. James’s himself, his futile errand finished before it had well begun.
While he hesitated, seeing no point now in speed, his mission being over, he heard a gentle voice behind him inquiring if he had need of direction.
He turned sharply. A young man, apparently a little older than himself, had addressed him. He wore the uniform of the King’s household.
‘I thank you, sir,’ John said with a polite bow. ‘I am here upon an errand from the Duke, but it has reached an unexpected conclusion and I must therefore go back whence I came.’
‘From His Highness I had already guessed by your appearance. I act in like manner for His Majesty.’
They exchanged names. The newcomer was Sidney Godolphin, member of a long established Cornish family of that name, page of honour for the last few years to Charles II and now aged, John guessed, considering the length of his service, to be twenty at least, though he did not look it, with his small features and very slim build.
They continued to talk. They exchanged views on all subjects that interested them, as young people will when they first meet a new congenial friend. So absorbed were they in their conversation that they did not notice the arrival of a small party approaching down the gallery. In fact their voices had risen with their mutual satisfaction in one another’s company and their subject of conversation had sunk from the exchange of lofty views to lively, ribald criticism of their respective duties. John had just said, to confirm his opinion of the muddle shown by his present assignment, ‘So here I be,
without rhyme or reason, while my exalted masters eddy about in confusion, not knowing whether they be coming or going.’
A voice of authority, a voice of awe, with a cutting edge all the more deadly for its hint of laughter, broke in upon them.
‘We are always ready to hear our subjects’ views, but would prefer—’
The boys wheeled round with scarlet faces as the voice struck them, snatched off their hats and sank to their knees. Charles stood over them, looking down with black eyes smouldering, while his gentlemen advanced to seize the culprits.
But the King waved them back, ordering the now white-faced boys to rise. He looked from one to the other. It was impossible to know what he thought or what he would do. They quaked inwardly, but met his gaze with respectful courage.
This satisfied him. The new generation, he thought, with his infallible insight, the new intelligent clean-purposed youth. So necessary for the future, for security, for progress.
Charles said severely, but without anger, ‘Express your critical opinions where you will not meet with embarrassing interruption.’
Reduced to schoolboys under reprimand, they could only hang their heads, speechless. The King’s voice altered. With icy scorn he said, ‘Arrogant puppies! Go now, before I have ye both whipped!’
As they hurried out of the gallery their misery was increased by a peal of laughter, led by Charles himself.
But they were young and soon recovered. In this, as they hastened away across St. James’s Park to the Duke in his apartments at the Palace there, they were helped by the sight of the Queen and her ladies walking together. The Duchess of York was at the Queen’s side.
Queen Catherine of Braganza was no beauty, but had a pleasant modest face and a fully regal carriage. Had she been able to supply an heir to the throne no doubt the King would have shown more restraint in his behaviour, though his nature and established habit would never have allowed him complete monogamy. Though his countrymen chose to find fault, to blame him severely, with religious scruple mixed with considerable hypocrisy, potentates all over the world behaved in like manner. Those in non-Christian countries were uncensured, in fact provided for, by the establishment of well-organised harems, or in China by separately housed concubines under the control of a chief wife.
Queen Catherine endured her difficult position with much patience and courage, for which the King was grateful. In fact he grew to be very fond of her for her forebearance and if at times he neglected her totally, he also at times attempted to show her, by marked admiration and attention, that he knew well the trials he inflicted upon her.
The two boys, meeting the Queen with her maids of honour and ladies in waiting about her, stood respectfully at a distance from the moving group of fair faces, flowing silken robes and ribbons of many colours, flowered or plumed head-dresses. They bowed deeply several times, an action acknowledged by the Queen with a slight inclination of her own head.
But when the little procession had nearly gone by, one figure detached itself from the Duchess’s group and one other waited for her to rejoin them.
Arabella Churchill came quickly up to her brother, exclaiming, ‘John, I have tried to see you these many weeks, but there hath been no opportunity. You are well? You are happy, brother?’
He was delighted to see her, for until that morning and his discovery of a kindred spirit in young Godolphin, he had been lonely, uncertain of himself, often confused and usually critical of the wealth of etiquette and protocol in a life that seemed to be a strange mixture of sheer frivolity and great danger, both at home and abroad.
‘I am well indeed, sister. But I have no news of my father and mother. At least I know he works at his office, but they—’
‘Are still safe from the plague in the country near Hampton, Wootton being altogether too far off. Now that the Court is here again, at least for a time, they may perhaps return.’
‘Safer to stay away,’ John said. He turned to introduce his new friend to his sister and they spoke a few words between them all until Arabella, seeing the distant lady-in-waiting beckon, took leave and picking up her ample skirts ran quickly and gracefully to rejoin the Queen’s group.
The boys walked on. Presently Godolphin said, ‘Your sister hath a lively manner of speaking.’
‘But a plain face, you would say,’ John answered. ‘Nay, I agree with you. But I love her, for she was kind to me when we were little and saved me from my nurse’s beating on many occasions.’
‘Did you note my Lady Castlemaine stayed for her? I marvel they can be friends.’
John laughed. ‘No marvel. Simply a matter of family relationship.’
He explained the cousinship between his mother’s family and the House of Villiers. In fact, he said, Lady Castlemaine was Arabella’s second cousin once removed, as he was himself.
‘Older by some years than you and your sister,’ remarked Godolphin, sensibly. He was, nevertheless, much impressed by the connection.
‘Oh yes. I have been told His Majesty singled her out very soon after his return. Nearly six years ago.’
‘And second to none since then save this Mrs. Stewart we see favoured with great ardour from time to time.’
‘As page to His Majesty you must know more of these matters than I,’ John said. Gossip on the subject of the King’s mistresses was universal and unending. At times it entertained him, at others the nonconformist side of his ancestry asserted itself in a certain prudery. So now the subject was dropped and the newly made friends walked on in silence.
At St. James’s Palace they parted, promising to meet again the following day, unless their duties prevented it.
‘I am not certain we stay in Whitehall,’ Godolphin explained. ‘If the lull in the great evil goes on, yes. But we have spent much time at Hampton Court and further afield in Salisbury and great houses north of the river.’
‘The Duke hath braved the worst of it in Westminster, apart from his journeys with the Fleet and even at sea in that early battle with the Dutch.’
They parted then, but with every intention of pursuing a friendship so fortuitously begun, so alarmingly hazarded, so luckily continued.
John Churchill reported the negative result of his mission, returned the papers he had carried and found the matter discharged without further comment. He went away from the Duke’s Chamberlain’s office without further employment for that day and sought out a fellow page to suggest a visit to one of the two playhouses, called the King’s and the Duke’s, now revived as the worst rigours of the plague seemed to have receded at last.
The theatres had been closed almost at once when the present epidemic became rampant. Since the cause of the disease was totally unknown, no really effective measures could be taken to control its spread, except an attempt to limit it by shutting up infected houses, leaving the sick and the healthy to fight it out together. Few survived among those quarantined wretches. Whole families perished.
But it was easy to close the public institutions, to prevent public gatherings. So for a time the theatres and all concerned with them suffered in their livelihoods. Though with the Restoration the people longed for their old entertainments, at the height of the affliction they were again deprived. While terror ruled they endured easily. Many no longer had any wish for gaiety, since their loved ones had died this horrible death. But later, with folk again going about their normal business – shops opening, trade of all kinds reviving – the people refused any longer to be denied their favourite reliefs.
The Churchills were fortunate. Lady Churchill and her younger children remained out of London for eighteen months longer, while Sir Winston, Arabella, John and George served their respective masters wherever their work for these notables led them. In the end the plague abated as it never failed to do in due course, though it was always considered probable that it might break out afresh.
So by the time it was thought safe for the King to return to Whitehall, even the City of London had grown once more into its former crowd
ed, bustling state.
Until John discovered Sidney Godolphin and knew he had found a real friend, he had often been uncertain how to spend his time when he was on duty as a page. He was not particularly interested in Court life. The arts, suppressed by Cromwell’s Puritans, were now in process of exuberant revival. Charles revelled in the theatre, in plays, masques, extravagant spectacle. Actors, supported now in the female parts by women, flourished particularly in the two royal theatres. Balls at which Charles himself excelled in the dance brought the younger aristocracy together, while the public crowded to watch all open entertainment, whether in Vauxhall Gardens, the Royal Parks, or on the river. But John Churchill, watching, learning, taking his modest part in the proceedings, did not find any full pleasure in them to satisfy the serious side of his nature. Art, as such, held no meaning at all for him.
But the martial side of the Duke’s life did so in greater measure as time went on. The Duke’s position as Lord High Admiral meant concern with fighting ships; and at that time naval crews sailed the ships, but the fighting was done by the soldiers on board. John came into contact with troops while in attendance upon the Duke of York. His interest and enthusiasm were so great they were readily observed. Even the Duke noticed them.
‘You understand the object of these drillings?’ he asked one day as John, standing behind him, watched the groups moving on parade, practising the manning of guns and so on.
‘I try to, your Highness,’ John answered.
‘What do you make of it?’
The boy hesitated, then said, ‘I am not sure what movement relates to battle on board ship, which to the act of boarding an enemy and which to the practice of landing upon a foreign shore.’
The Duke laughed. ‘That does not surprise us, for we have the same difficulty ourself this morning.’
A Question of Loyalties Page 4