by Jean Plaidy
“It is too risky,” said Marlborough. “What if she should choose Masham.”
“And disrupt the Army!” cried Sarah.
Marlborough looked tenderly at his wife; and even as he did so he thought how different everything might have been if she had not lost the Queen’s favour by her own rash outspokenness, and her inability to see another point of view than her own. But how could he blame Sarah? He loved her as she was. Had she been sly like Abigail Masham she would not have been his dashing flamboyant Sarah.
“We have powerful enemies,” he reminded her.
“Harley. St. John—that cabal … and of course whey-faced Masham.”
“The Queen cannot afford to lose you,” Sunderland reminded his father-in-law. “She will have to give way.”
Godolphin, feeling tired and each day growing more and more weary of political strife, believed it was an odd state of affairs when a government must concern itself with the dismissal of a chambermaid. But he was too tired to allow himself to protest.
“At least,” said Sarah, “we did not allow Masham’s brother his colonelcy. It shows that we only have to take a firm stand.”
She laid her arm on her husband’s shoulders. “I will have Brandy Nan recognize your greatness however much she tries to shake her silly head while she gabbles her parrot phrases.”
Godolphin looked a little shocked to hear the Queen given such an epithet; but Sarah and Sunderland won the point and Marlborough was induced to write a letter to the Queen pointing out that she must either dismiss Mrs. Masham or himself.
Robert Harley was a man who liked to work in the shadows and had spies concealed in all places where he believed they could serve him best. Even as Marlborough was writing his letter to the Queen news was brought to him of what it would contain.
Abigail or Marlborough. It would be a difficult choice; for although Marlborough would not be accepted as a military dictator of the state he must undoubtedly remain Commander-in-Chief in Europe until a satisfactory peace had been made.
Harley called on Abigail and as a result Abigail went to the Queen.
Anne knew at once that something was worrying her favourite as soon as she saw her.
“The baby is well?” she began.
Abigail knelt before Anne and buried her face in the Queen’s voluminous skirts.
“They are trying to part me from Your Majesty,” she cried.
“What!” cried Anne, her mottled cheeks turning a shade less red, her dulaps trembling.
“Yes, Madam. Marlborough is going to offer you a choice. Either I go or he does.”
“He cannot do this.”
“He will, Madam. I have heard that he has already written the letter and that it is only because Lord Godolphin is a little uncertain that it has not yet reached you. The Duchess and Lord Sunderland are in favour of it and … it will not be long before they have persuaded Godolphin.”
“I shall not let you go.”
“Madam, they may make it impossible for you to keep me.”
“Oh dear,” sighed Anne. “What troublemakers they are! Why should they wish to part me from my friends!”
She was agitated. Lose Abigail! It was impossible. And yet these clever men with their devious ways were trying to drive her into a corner.
“There is no time to waste,” she said. “I will send for Lord Somers at once and tell him how kindly I feel towards the Duke of Marlborough and how I hope that I shall soon have an opportunity of demonstrating my affection for him. At the same time I will tell him that I will never allow any of my ministers to part me from my friends.”
Abigail looked up into the Queen’s face and seeing the obstinate set of the royal lips was reassured.
Godolphin paced up and down the chamber at Windsor Lodge.
“It’s no use,” he said, “she’ll never give up Masham. You can be sure that our enemies abroad are getting the utmost amusement out of this situation. The Government versus a chambermaid. It is making us ridiculous.”
Marlborough saw the point as Sarah would not. It was for this reason that Godolphin had chosen a moment to speak to the Duke when he was alone.
Ridicule could be a strong weapon in an enemy’s hand. In war an Army needed to have as many points in its favour as could be seized; and none was too small to be ignored.
Godolphin was right; Sarah and Sunderland were wrong. This battle between a Commander-in-Chief of an army and a chambermaid must not be allowed to become a major issue.
“I shall not offer the Queen the ultimatum,” said Marlborough. “I shall write to her though and let her know how mortified I am to be exposed to the malice of a bedchamber woman.”
“This is better,” agreed Godolphin. “For God’s sake don’t drive the Queen into a corner, for in such a position she could become the most obstinate woman alive.”
“We must find other means of dislodging Mrs. Masham,” agreed the Duke sombrely.
“Better secretly than openly. You will go to visit the Queen.”
“I suppose it should be done.”
So Marlborough came to London to see the Queen who received him graciously, anxious to show him that her coolness towards his wife did not extend to him.
This is a victory for Marlborough, said Marlborough’s friends.
But Robert Harley and his friends knew that the triumph was theirs. Marlborough had wanted to force the Queen to a choice between himself and Abigail; and had been afraid of the result. Triumph indeed.
The trial of Dr. Sacheverel was causing a great deal of excitement throughout London. Anne, who had hoped to attend Westminster Hall incognito, had been recognized by the crowds who had shouted: “God Save the Queen and Dr. Sacheverel.”
Anne, acknowledging the royal greetings, knew that the people were with her and that the anger they obviously displayed was not directed against her but the Lord Treasurer, Godolphin, who had brought the case against Sacheverel, and Godolphin was, of course, a member of that family which was seeking to take over the government of the country.
She believed then that if she dissolved the Whig Parliament the Tories would undoubtedly be returned to power at the next election. This was pleasing to contemplate, for she was heartily tired of Godolphin, and if he were dismissed from his office he would take Sunderland with him … and dear Mr. Harley could form the government he had mentioned to her in their secret conversations. Then there would be no more threats of taking Abigail from her, for Abigail and Harley were very dear friends.
Therefore it was quite pleasant to hear the shouts of the people as she passed through the streets; knowing that although they were threatening to riot for the sake of Sacheverel, they had no quarrel with their Queen.
In the hall she made her way to the curtained box from which she would watch the trial, and she saw that one of the ladies in attendance was the Duchess of Marlborough. What a nuisance that woman was! She immediately disturbed Anne’s peace of mind although, the Queen noticed, not without pleasure, she was a little more subdued on this occassion, no doubt being fully aware of the anger of the people against her party.
But it was not in Sarah’s nature to be subdued for long. Very soon she was fussing as to whether the ladies should stand or sit and even went so far as to approach the Queen to remind her that the trial was likely to be long and that she had not given her ladies the required permission to sit.
“By all means, sit,” said Anne coolly, without glancing at the Duchess.
Sarah saw the glances which were exchanged between several of them, and the colour heightened in her cheeks. It was difficult to restrain her fury.
When she saw that the Duchess of Somerset did not however sit, but took up her stand behind the Queen’s chair, Sarah approached her imperiously. “And why, pray,” she demanded, “do you not sit since Her Majesty has given the permission to do so?”
“I do not care to sit,” replied the Duchess of Somerset, and added: “In her Majesty’s presence.”
“Is Your Grace i
mplying that I am ignorant of Court procedure?” Sarah’s voice was high pitched and audible.
“I imply nothing,” answered the Duchess of Somerset. “I merely say that I prefer to stand.”
Sarah sat down on her stool, glowering.
Oh dear, thought Anne, how pleasant it would be if I could be rid of that woman.
The trial lasted for several days and on each day the Hall was crowded. All the members of Parliament were present and as the Hall was full to overflowing those who could not obtain admittance filled the streets about the building.
With each day it became clearer with whom popular sympathy lay. The people who had taken the Queen to their hearts declared that she was with them on the side of Sacheverel against the Whig ministry led by Godolphin and supported by the Marlborough faction. This was more than the trial of Dr. Sacheverel. The fate of the government was at stake.
When at last Sacheverel was found guilty of the charges brought against him, he was given such a light sentence that his supporters took this as a victory for them. He was simply forbidden to preach for three years and his sermon was to be burned before the Royal Exchange in the presence of the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs of London and Middlesex.
That night the bonfires were lighted and there was great rejoicing in the streets.
THE LAST MEETING
he sound of carousal could be heard in St. James’s Palace. Abigail smiled secretly as she ministered to the needs of the Queen.
Dear Masham! thought Anne, I should like to honour her with a title, but if I did, could I expect a lady of rank to do the menial tasks she does for me? I do not want any change. I want everything to be as it is now between us.
“There is excitement in the streets tonight, Madam.”
“Yes, Masham. The people regard this as a victory for Dr. Sacheverel.”
“And for Your Majesty. They have linked you with him. So often I have heard them shout, Long Live the Queen and Dr. Sacheverel.”
“He stands for the Church and I do not believe my present Government has the good of the Church at heart.”
“Your Majesty will doubtless soon have a new Government.”
“I have had petitions from the people to dissolve the present Parliament.”
“Bringing Dr. Sacheverel to trial has ruined them,” added Abigail.
“I shall seek an early opportunity of dissolving Parliament so that the people will have a chance of electing the Government they want.”
Abigail was exultant. This would be good news for Robert Harley and she would convey it to him at the earliest possible moment, although, of course, he knew, for the outcome was inevitable.
“Play to me for a while,” said the Queen. “I have a fancy for a little music.”
So Abigail went to the harpsichord and played the Queen’s favourite Purcell airs, but as she played there was such a sound of conversation from the ante-room that she stopped and, turning to the Queen, saw that she had fallen asleep.
Abigail went to the ante-room where she saw Lady Hyde and Lady Burlington laughing together.
Abigail said: “The Queen is sleeping.”
A short while ago they would have resented the intrusion, now they knew that a word from Abigail to the Queen could do them much harm so they smiled ingratiatingly at her and asked her if she had heard of the Duchess of Marlborough’s latest impertinence towards Her Majesty.
“I have not,” answered Abigail, “and should like to hear it.”
“Well,” said Lady Hyde. “Lady Marlborough was acting as sponsor at christening with the Duchess of Somerset and Lady Somerset suggested naming the child Anne. And what do you think Madam Sarah said to that? ‘There was never anyone good for much of that name. I’ll not stand for a baby named Anne!’ ”
“How dare she!” cried Abigail.
“Sarah would dare anything. Did you not know that?”
Mrs. Darcey, one of the palace ladies, came into the room, just as Anne, awaking and missing Abigail, called to her.
“Masham,” said the Queen, when Abigail entered, “you look disturbed. Is anything wrong?”
“I am just angered, Madam, by a further impertinence of the Duchess of Marlborough.”
“What is this?”
“It is just another rudeness, Madam. Scarcely worth the notice.”
“Nevertheless I would hear.”
Abigail told the Queen of the christening incident.
“That woman is continually showing her lack of respect and animosity towards me,” complained the Queen. “I’ll not endure much more of it.”
Mrs. Darcey, who overheard the last remark, went to Sarah and told her what had been said.
“You see,” cried Sarah to John, “there is continual tittle-tattle against me.”
“But what of this christening matter?”
“I was there,” admitted Sarah.
“And you made this remark?”
Sarah put her head on one side. “I was joking about the occasion when the Duke of Hamilton christened his boy Anne—hoping for royal favour, of course—and I said since this was a girl, why not, after the fashion set by Hamilton, make a boy of her and call her George.”
“It might be a good plan if you could see the Queen and explain this.”
“My dear Marl, I am heartily sick of playing the humble supplicant to that woman.”
“But the Government is in danger of falling. If you could regain your old friendship with the Queen we could recover all that we have lost.”
“It seems ridiculous to have been pushed aside for that chamberwoman.” Sarah’s eyes were glinting. “She shall see me. She shall. I shall explain to her and she will have to take notice.”
Marlborough laid a restraining hand on his wife’s arm. “My love, be careful. You can do it … if you will. But you must curb your tongue.”
Sarah’s lips were firmly set, but Marlborough’s misgivings were great.
“Your Majesty is disturbed?” asked Abigail.
“A request for an audience from the Duchess of Marlborough.”
“And Your Majesty will grant it?”
“The woman holds all her appointments still and that gives her easy access to my apartments. I would be rid of her. Do you know, Masham, I never want to see her again. Does that surprise you when you consider the greatness of the friendship we once had for each other?”
“What surprises me, Madam, is Your Majesty’s great patience with the Duchess.”
“My patience is fast running out. I do not wish to see her, Masham. She wearies me with her continual ranting.”
“Could Your Majesty write and tell her to put what she has to say in writing?”
“An excellent idea, Masham. I will do that.”
When she received the Queen’s letter Sarah was furious. She immediately wrote that what she had to say could not be put into writing. Anne replied by giving her an appointment for the next day, but when the hour approached Anne called Abigail to her and told her that the thought of seeing Sarah gave her a headache and made her feet throb.
Abigail bathed the feet and afterwards massaged them while the Queen planned the letter she would write to tell Sarah that she preferred what she had to say to be written.
But Sarah was not easily diverted. Again she replied that it was not possible to write what she had to say and again she demanded a private interview.
“Shall I never throw her off?” Anne asked piteously. Then she had the idea of leaving for Kensington and wrote to Sarah telling her that she would be away for some days and if Sarah would care to put what she had to say in writing she, Anne, would consider it while she was away.
But there was no escape. Sarah’s reply came back promptly:
“I am glad Your Majesty is going to Kensington to make use of the fresh air and take care of your health. I will follow you there and wait every day until it is convenient for you to see me, as what I have to say is of such a nature as to require no answer.”
Sarah arrived at Kensington
Palace while the Queen was reading her note. She went straight to the royal apartments and told the Queen’s page to announce her.
Anne, sitting at her writing desk, Sarah’s letter before her, realized that she could no longer postpone the interview and gave permission for Sarah to enter.
When Sarah came into the room Anne remained at her desk, her pen in her hand.
She looked up as Sarah entered and said: “I have just read your letter. I was going to write to you.”
As soon as she was in her presence, so many memories came rushing back to Sarah that she forgot the change in their relationship and replied to the Queen with all the old imperiousness: “About what were you going to write, Madam?”
“I was going to write to you,” replied Anne, setting her lips into a line which should have warned Sarah.
“There was something in my letter, Madam, that you wished to answer?”
“There is nothing you have to say that you could not write,” insisted Anne.
Sarah was exasperated. The Queen was in what Sarah called the parrot mood. She would go on repeating her set phrases and it would be impossible to reason with her.
“I did not know that Your Majesty was ever so hard as to refuse to hear a person speak. Even the meanest have a right to be heard.”
“I tell people to put what they have to say in writing when I have a mind to.”
“I have nothing to say on the subject which is so upsetting to you, Madam. Mrs. Masham is not concerned in what I would say, but I cannot be quiet until I have spoken to you.”
“You may put what you have to say in writing,” insisted the Queen.
“It has been brought to my notice,” burst out Sarah, “that evil tales concerning me have been laid before you. It is said that I have spoken disrespectfully of Your Majesty. I would no more think of doing that than killing my own children.”
Anne’s expression did not change, but she did not look at Sarah’s heated face. Sarah Churchill had often spoken disrespectfully to her in her own hearing, so how much more inclined she would be to do so behind her back! Sarah no longer moved her to affection and her greatest desire was never to look on her one-time friend’s face again.