Queen Anne: The Politics of Passion

by Anne Somerset

  On 21 March 1681 Parliament met at Oxford. To avoid a complete rupture, the King offered a series of ‘expedients’ designed to safeguard the kingdom if his brother inherited the crown. James would become King in name, but would be declared unfit to rule. A regency would be set up to govern the country, with William and Mary installed as joint protectors of the realm. Despite bearing the title of King, James would be banished from his own dominions during his lifetime. Even these far-reaching proposals failed to satisfy the Commons. Instead they introduced another Bill of Exclusion, and disquietingly it once again failed to name a successor.102 Charles was not prepared to accept this, and without warning dissolved Parliament a week after it had opened. The failure to reach a settlement, thought by some to presage disaster, marked the start of a royal recovery.

  Bolstered by skilful financial management and payments from Louis XIV, with whom he had negotiated a secret agreement, Charles was able to survive without summoning another Parliament. By late May a royal adviser reported that ‘his majesty’s position has improved considerably since the dissolution’,103 but the King did not yet feel sufficiently confident to bring his brother back to England. Instead he agreed that Anne could join her father. In March, her little sister Isabella had died, leaving both her parents desolate. Being reunited with Anne would, it was hoped, afford some consolation.

  Anne went by sea, arriving at Edinburgh on 17 July, accompanied by a sizeable suite. At Holyrood Palace her father and stepmother kept ‘almost as great a court as at Whitehall’, shocking some Scots by giving balls and masquerades at which, allegedly, ‘promiscuous dancing’ took place. Riding, playing cards, and being ‘often with the Duchess’ left Anne with little time to write letters to friends such as Frances Apsley. Theatrical entertainments also kept her busy. After seeing his daughter and four of the maids of honour who had accompanied her give a performance of Mithridates to celebrate Mary Beatrice’s birthday in November, James reported proudly that all ‘did their parts very well, and they were very well dressed, so that they made a very fine show, and such a one as had not been seen in this country before’.104

  Despite the ‘gaiety and brilliancy of the court of Holyrood House’, they still felt homesick. In a letter to Frances Apsley, Anne said she hoped she would be reunited with her before too long, ‘though God and the King only knows when’. In the meantime, she asked Frances to ‘write me all the news you know, send me the Gazette and other printed papers that are good’.105

  In March 1682 James was allowed back to England for what was meant to be a short visit, but once there he was able to persuade the King that he should bring his wife and daughter home. James set sail on 3 May and only narrowly avoided drowning after his ship was wrecked with great loss of life, but he survived and was able to collect Anne and Mary Beatrice. They all sailed back to England in the aptly named Happy Return, reaching London on 27 May. James declared cheerfully that from now on ‘We will fix ourselves in this country, as we have travelled quite enough during the last three years’.106

  The outlook for the monarchy became so much better that within a few months James triumphantly informed Prince William of Orange ‘That seditious and turbulent party now lose ground every day’.107 Charles had struck at his opponents in various ways, such as cancelling town charters, purging the judiciary and magistracy, and interfering with the urban electoral franchise. A combination of subsidies from France and increased customs revenue meant that the King could avoid summoning Parliaments, denying his enemies an arena in which to voice opposition. Having successfully resolved the political crisis, Charles now felt able to turn his attention to arranging a marriage for his niece Anne.

  In August 1682 Prince Rupert renewed his match-making efforts on behalf of Anne and Prince George Ludwig of Hanover. He wrote his sister Sophia another letter on the subject of the ‘marriage in question’, telling her that ‘as for the young lady, I assure you she is intelligent and very well brought up’. By the end of the month Rupert reported that he had secured what he considered to be excellent terms, with the Duke of York offering to give Anne a dowry of £40,000 and an income of £10,000 a year. However, George Ludwig’s parents were simultaneously engaged in negotiations to marry their son to his first cousin, Sophia Dorothea of Celle. The girl’s mother was not of royal birth, but Sophia of Hanover was mindful that ‘Miss Hyde’s lineage was no better’, and the Celle match was politically and financially advantageous.108

  The news of Prince George’s betrothal to Sophia Dorothea arrived in England early in September 1682, whereupon King Charles took ‘some exception’ at being ‘disappointed in our expectation of having the Prince of Hanover for the Lady Anne’. A British diplomat stationed in Hanover considered this unreasonable, as the negotiations for Anne’s hand had remained on an informal footing. He pointed out that ‘there never was any proposals made of either side’, but this envoy had other motives: he was about to be posted to another country, and he did not want to be forbidden from receiving the generous presents customarily given to departing envoys.109

  It would be alleged that Anne herself never forgot the ‘supposed slight’ of being spurned by Prince George Ludwig of Hanover. One account suggested that she had been offended because he had come to England with a view to marrying her and then ‘not liking her person he left the kingdom’. In fact, it was duty not desire that had led the Prince away from Anne: his mother noted he would ‘marry a cripple if he could serve the house’, while he felt a private ‘repugnance’ at the prospect of marrying Sophia Dorothea.110 Conceivably, however, Anne did gain some inkling that George Ludwig’s parents did not consider her birth to be sufficiently illustrious, and this would hardly have made her better disposed to the House of Hanover.

  It is possible too that the collapse of the marriage plan did cause her some pain. A letter from George to Prince Rupert’s mistress Peg Hughes suggests that she had been teasing him about Anne, telling him that he would do well to marry a girl who was so keen on him. After becoming engaged he wrote to Peg thanking her for the advice but saying that it was no longer possible for him to follow it. He continued stolidly,

  I have never really been aware of the intentions of Madam the Princess Anne, and I do not know them now … It’s true that I recall you talked to me of her on several occasions, but as I took that as a joke I paid no attention. However you may be sure, Madam, that no one could be more the servitor of Madam the Princess than I, and the marriage I am about to make will not hinder that.

  In the long term, Anne had no cause to regret the failure of the Hanover match. Her own later marriage to Prince George of Denmark was a source of great happiness, and was certainly more successful than George of Hanover’s union, which ended after his wife’s lover was murdered in mysterious circumstances. Having divorced Sophia Dorothea, George imprisoned her for life; as Queen, Anne would be dragged into the affair when Sophia Dorothea’s mother vainly appealed to her to secure her daughter’s freedom.111

  In autumn 1682, with her future still uncertain, Anne became involved in an embarrassing scandal. At the end of October the Earl of Mulgrave was expelled from court and deprived of his official posts and army regiment for ‘writing to the Lady Anne’. Mulgrave was a thirty-four-year-old rake whose arrogance had earned him the nickname ‘Haughty’. He prided himself on being ‘the terror of husbands’, and two years before this he had been sent to Tangier in a leaky boat for behaving too amorously towards the King’s mistresses. How far matters had gone between him and Anne was a matter for speculation. There was fanciful talk of a secret marriage, but Mulgrave himself insisted that his crime was ‘only ogling’. Others were sure he ‘had often presented her with songs and letters under hand’, and that the King had confiscated one compromising document. It was whispered too that Mulgrave had made ‘brisk attempts’ on Anne’s virtue and some thought he had gone ‘so far as to spoil her marrying to anybody else’.112

  The French ambassador reported that Mulgrave’s disgrace was ‘as co
mplete as it ever can be in this country’. It turned out not to be permanent, for having been awarded another regiment in 1684 he was made Lord Chamberlain a few months after James II’s accession. At the time, however, the episode not only exposed Anne to humiliation but was potentially very damaging. ‘Extraordinary rumours are current about this affair’ Louis XIV was told by his ambassador, and unflattering verses mocking Anne and Mulgrave were soon in circulation. One anonymous rhyme sneered that

  ‘Naughty Nan

  Is mad to marry Haughty’.113

  For young women and girls the Restoration court was ‘a perilous climate … to breathe in’. In some ways it was a place of astonishingly lax morals. The sexual habits of the King and the Duke of York were widely emulated by rakes and libertines who looked ‘on the maids of honour as playthings’. One young lady in the Duchess of York’s household complained of ‘the impunity with which they attack our innocence’, but the same latitude was not extended to women. Even minor transgressions could result in disgrace and ruin, and their virtue was compromised by the merest hint of scandal. The Marquis of Halifax warned his daughter ‘It will not be enough for you to keep yourself free from any criminal engagements; for if you do that which either raises hopes or createth discourse, there is a spot thrown upon your good name … Your reputation … may be deeply wounded, though your conscience is unconcerned’.114 Judged by these criteria, Anne had opened herself to censure.

  Halifax cautioned his daughter that other women would be the first to criticise if she found herself in trouble, and certainly Anne’s sister Mary made a meal of her tribulations. When Frances Apsley (by this time a married woman herself) wrote to Holland to inform her of the scandal, Mary professed herself aghast. ‘For my part I never knew what it was to be so vexed and troubled’ she declared, adding, ‘Not but that I believe my sister very innocent; however, I am so nice upon the point of reputation that it makes me mad she should be exposed to such reports, and now what will not this insolent man say, being provoked?’115

  Another ramification of the affair was that Mrs Mary Cornwallis, of the Duchess of York’s Bedchamber – who was said to be ‘in great favour with the Princess Anne’ – was dismissed from her post and ‘ordered never to come into her presence more’. The French ambassador assumed that Mrs Cornwallis had acted as Anne’s confidante, and that ‘there had been a secret correspondence between her and Milord Mulgrave’. However, there might have been other reasons behind her dismissal. Mrs Cornwallis was a Catholic, and Bishop Compton reportedly voiced fears at the Council table ‘of the dangerous consequence such a woman’s being about the princess might have’. Much later the Duchess of Marlborough insinuated that there had been additional grounds for concern. She described Mrs Cornwallis as Anne’s ‘first favourite’ and noted that ‘the fondness of the young lady to her was very great and passionate’. The Duchess recounted that over the past three or four years ‘Lady Anne had written … above a thousand letters full of the most violent professions of everlasting kindness’, to this favoured companion, adding that King Charles ‘used to say “No man ever loved his mistress, as his niece Anne did Mrs Cornwallis”’. Having thus implied that there had been something perverted about Anne’s affection for Mrs Cornwallis, the Duchess went on to suggest that the episode provided evidence of Anne’s inherent disloyalty. She observed that despite her ostensible ‘tenderness and passion’ for her female friend, Anne’s only gesture of solidarity was ‘sending a footman once or twice to desire [Mrs Cornwallis] to stand at her window’ so Anne could glimpse her as she went to walk in Hyde Park. Within a fortnight she ‘seemed as perfectly to have forgot this woman as if she had never heard of her’.116

  Anne wrote to Mary in Holland of her distress at being forced to part with her friend, but she received scant sympathy. Mary confided to Frances Apsley, ‘Had I known of the friendship at first I should have done all I could in the world to have broke it off, but I never knew anything … till such time as she was forbid when I heard it from my sister herself, and was very much surprised and troubled to find her concern as great’. She asked Frances to inform her if Anne formed another unsuitable connection ‘that I may endeavour to stop it … for I think nothing more prejudicial to a young woman than ill company’. It appeared that Mary now believed it was incumbent on her to monitor Anne’s friendships, an idea that would later lead to serious trouble.117

  The Mulgrave affair had underlined the desirability of finding a husband for Anne, now aged eighteen. The problem was that not many suitable Protestant princes were available. The King knew it would be almost suicidally provocative to follow up one adviser’s suggestion that Anne be married to Louis XIV’s cousin, the Catholic Prince de la Roche sur Yon, but Charles did want to match her with someone agreeable to Louis. In recent years there had been a diplomatic realignment as the King and the Duke of York had grown disenchanted with Prince William of Orange, whom they suspected of favouring exclusion. Instead Charles had accepted financial aid from the French King that enabled him to live without Parliament and acquiesced in his aggressive foreign policy.

  Prince George of Denmark, younger brother of King Christian V of Denmark, was a suitor likely to meet with Louis XIV’s approval, because Denmark was an ally of France, and on poor terms with Holland. A distant cousin of Anne – who, like him, was a great grandchild of King Frederick II of Denmark – this George was nearly twelve years older than her. He had been ‘educated in a Prince-like manner’ and when only sixteen had impressed one diplomat with his ‘well grounded acquaintance with several sciences’. Unfortunately a harsh tutor had permanently dented his confidence. After struggling, when very young, to sustain a conversation with Sophia of Hanover, he explained he had been ‘brought up in so much fear that he could not rid himself of’ his shyness. She nevertheless concluded that he had ‘a very good nature and will not lack judgement’, and thought he would make a fine husband.118

  In 1668, aged fifteen, Prince George of Denmark had embarked on a European tour, visiting Holland, France, England, and Italy. When in England he was received at court by Charles II and the Queen, although he would not have seen Anne as she was in France at the time. He returned to Copenhagen in 1670, and a few years later ‘gained much reputation’ when he fought in the war between Denmark and Sweden. Having commanded part of the Danish army at Landskrona in 1676, the following year ‘he greatly hazarded his royal person and signalised his valour’ by saving his brother’s life at the Battle of Lunden. When peace returned to Europe he went travelling again, but his future remained unclear. In 1674 he had been talked of as a possible King of Poland, but the Poles had rejected him because he was a Lutheran, and alternative career opportunities were far from numerous. The Elector Palatine commented after meeting George that he did not envy ‘the fate of a brother of a King with children’, although he thought that George probably did not realise how bleak the outlook was.119

  It could be assumed that George would regard marriage to the English King’s niece as an enticing prospect. The French ambassador to England, Barrillon, played Cupid by putting George’s name forward as a husband for Anne in February 1683. The King received the idea warmly, and James too was enthusiastic, as this would undermine the Prince of Orange’s position in England. In March Barrillon reported that the English were ‘waiting impatiently’ for the Danes to make overtures on George’s behalf, and within a few weeks Charles II’s Secretary of State, the Earl of Sunderland, was discussing terms with the Danish envoy, the Sieur de Lente. By the end of April matters were far enough advanced for the Danes to be told that George’s lack of wealth was not a problem, as Anne would be provided with money for his upkeep. The only hitch came when the Sieur de Lente sounded out Barrillon as to whether the King could be prevailed upon to alter the succession in George’s favour by disqualifying William of Orange from inheriting the crown. Barrillon replied that at the present juncture the King was doing everything possible to preserve intact the hereditary succession, so it would b
e most inopportune to try and modify it in this way.120

  On 3 May the Danes made a formal proposal, which was ‘very well received’. Later that day it was publicly announced that the King ‘had admitted of a proposal of marriage between Prince George and his niece, for which purpose he was coming over’. Until this point even the majority of the Council had been kept in ignorance of the negotiations, for fear they would oppose the match. A portrait of Anne was sent to Denmark for George to inspect prior to setting out, and possibly Anne was shown a painting of George too. Even if she had not liked what she saw, there was little she could have done, for when it came to marriage a princess could not realistically expect to have any account taken of her preferences. In one respect, however, Anne was fortunate. It was agreed that George would ‘live and keep his court in England’, freeing Anne from the necessity of starting life anew in a foreign country.121

  It was settled that Anne and George would receive an annual income of £20,000, comprising £10,000 a year from the King and the remainder from her father. This was to be supplemented by George’s own revenues, which derived from lands confiscated from the Duke of Holstein and conferred on him at the end of the last war between Denmark and Sweden. The income was estimated at £15,000, but rarely yielded so much in practice. As a wedding present the King also conferred on his niece the grant of the Cockpit lodgings at Whitehall, ensuring that she and her new husband were comfortably accommodated.122