Виктория Холт - Courting Her Highness

“I should need time to consider that, Mr. Freeman,” she answered.

Disappointed, but not unhopeful, Marlborough talked of other matters and after a while took his leave.

Anne was thoughtful after the Duke had left. How right Mr. Harley and Abigail had been! It was true that the Churchills were trying to reduce her to a mere cypher; and they had begun it by joining themselves through marriage with the most influential families so that the junta was formed; and now there they were—Marlborough, Godolphin and the hateful Sunderland—ready to rule the nation. All they needed was for Marlborough to become Captain-General of the Army for life—which would mean that no one would have the power to dislodge him—and there would be the military dictatorship for which they would all be working.

Relations with Sarah were very strained; they would soon be so with her husband, for Anne was certain that she was putting no such power into the hands of Marlborough.

But how to act in a manner so tactful that she could refuse Marlborough’s demands without alienating him, for if he were to resign from his present position at this moment she could not imagine what evil might befall her armies abroad.

She considered her ministers and thought of Earl Cowper who was not of the Churchill faction, and was a man whom she trusted and who would not wish to see Marlborough supreme. She sent for him.

“My lord,” she said, “if I were to ask you to draw up a commission to make the Duke of Marlborough Captain-General of the Army for life, how would you do it?”

Cowper was momentarily speechless at such a prospect.

“Your Majesty …” he stammered at length. “Madam … I … I could not advise such an undertaking in any circumstances.”

“My Lord Marlborough has asked that his position should be made permanent,” she told him.

“Madam, it is an office which has never been bestowed, other than for the time of the Sovereign’s pleasure.”

“I know it, my lord; but now His Grace would have it otherwise.”

“But, Madam …”

“You will know what to say to His Grace, I am sure, my lord,” said the Queen with her placid smile.

Cowper did know. He first went to his friends and told them what had taken place between him and the Queen. They were immediately apprehensive and angry. Marlborough was clearly aiming at military dictatorship. How disastrous if the Queen had agreed to his request which, they believed, she might have done if the Duchess had been on the old terms with her.

In the circumstances, Cowper was able to go to the Duke, with the support of his friends, to tell him that the great seal of England would never be put to such commission.

There was consternation throughout the Ministry. Marlborough’s preposterous suggestion was seen as a dangerous one.

Harley and St. John talked of it to their political and literary friends.

Sarah had failed to keep her hold on the Queen, it was said; so Marlborough was going to rule instead of the Queen. Military men with big ambitions should be watched.

John went down to St. Albans with Sarah. Restlessly and angrily they talked.

“Nothing goes as we could wish!” cried John; and he looked sadly at his wife, for none believed more than he did that if Sarah had retained her friendship with the Queen everything they desired would have come to them. But he never criticized her; all he would do was warn her gently. Sarah was far from gentle. She railed against Abigail Hill, for she was certain that all their troubles came from her.

“They have no gratitude,” she cried. “The nation, the Queen … nor Abigail Hill. You have won resounding victories for England; I have spent hours with the stupid woman when I would have preferred to be shut in a dungeon; I brought that whey-faced slut from a broom to a palace … and where is the gratitude, I ask you. Those who have most reason to love us turn against us.”

It was soothing to go down to Woodstock and look at the progress of Blenheim; but even that was slow and not to Sarah’s taste and she and John Vanbrugh had by now conceived a great dislike of each other.

Disgruntled and angry they returned to London. The Duke realized he had made a mistake in underestimating the Queen, and believing she would grant his request without consulting her ministers. Who would have thought that she would have called in Cowper before the commission was a fait accompli?

He was getting old; he was tired; and in spite of his brilliant victories he had not achieved what he set out to do.

The Duke of Argyle called on the Queen.

“Madam,” he said, “the Duke of Marlborough is a danger to the peace of England. It is believed by some that he might attempt to seize that which has been denied him.”

“I do not believe that the Duke of Marlborough would ever turn traitor to his own country,” protested Anne.

“It is as well to be prepared, Your Majesty.”

“That is true,” agreed Anne.

“Your Majesty need have no fear. You have but to give me the alarm and I would seize Marlborough—even at the head of his troops, and bring him to you dead or alive.”

Oh dear! sighed Anne. How alarming. War was bad enough abroad, but civil war was something she could not bear to contemplate.

She thanked the Duke of Argyle and told him she would remember his promise although she trusted it would never be necessary for her to make use of the services he so kindly offered her.

Abigail found her deeply disturbed and she confided in her as she had come to in all things.

Abigail was sure that Mr. Harley would have a better plan than the Duke of Argyle who, she suggested, could be as ambitious as the Duke of Marlborough; and where would the virtue be in replacing one ambitious man for another?

Mr. Harley was brought to the green closet. He had a plan, he would bring together a secret council of men who would protect the Queen and in due course hope to be her Government, for it was possible that the Whigs would be defeated at the next election.

He agreed that at all costs the Duke of Marlborough must be watched and given no more power than he already had—which was far too much.

If the Queen would trust him he would in turn devote his life to serving her beloved Church and the Tory party.

How fortunate, Anne agreed with Abigail, that Mr. Harley was at hand.

Abigail lay in her bed awaiting the birth of her child. She felt aloof from all that intrigue which for so long had formed part of her life. It had been so for the last weeks as the time for her confinement grew nearer and nearer. A child of her own—hers and Samuel’s.

The pains had started and she had heard the women whispering in the chamber. They feared it would be a long labour, for she was small, thin, not built for child-bearing, so they said.

But she felt strong and capable of anything; and she was astonished by the softness of her feelings.

The Queen had been gracious; she knew that Anne was anxiously waiting for news. They had been pleasant, those last cosy weeks, seated at the Queen’s feet, leaning against her, talking of the Queen’s “boy,” laughing and crying together. Never had they been so close—friends, not sovereign and subject.

“You must let me share in your joy, my dearest Abigail,” said Anne.

The pains were more acute. It was Mrs. Abrahal who was bending over her.

“Take is easy,” she was soothing her. “It won’t be long now.”

Mrs. Danvers was there, with Mrs. Abrahal and the others, and the Queen had sent for her own physician, for nothing was too good for Mrs. Masham. Mrs. Danvers would report to the Duchess of Marlborough that it had been royal attendance, if you please. But would she? Mrs. Danvers had begun to wonder whether it was necessary to report everything to the Duchess, for what need was there now to seek her favour? Better perhaps to watch over Mrs. Masham’s comforts with the same assiduous care as one had once bestowed on the Duchess of Marlborough.

Mrs. Abrahal seemed to have come to that conclusion too.

Mrs. Abrahal curtsied to the Queen who cried: “What news?”

“A little girl, Your Majesty.”

“And Mrs. Masham is well?”

“As well as can be expected, Madam. It was a long and hard labour.”

“Poor Masham! And is Dr. Arbuthnot with her now?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Help me up. I will go to her.”

Anne stood smiling at Abigail who looked so wan and yet triumphant. Lucky Abigail who held a child in her arms.

Anne quietly prayed that dearest Masham would have better luck than she had had. May this child live and be a comfort to her, she said to herself.

“You are well content,” she said tenderly.

“Yes, and shall be more so if Your Majesty will consent to this child’s being named after you.”

“It would give me the greatest pleasure,” said the Queen, with tears in her eyes.

Anne delighted in the baby.

“My dear Masham,” she said, “it brings back the old days to me so clearly. I think of my own little ones.…”

And the baby had a fondness for the Queen. “She’s like her Mamma,” sneered Abigail’s enemies. “She knows how to please.”

It was such a pleasure to sit together and talk of Abigail’s long labour and the antics of the child. It helped Anne to forget all the unfortunate tensions about her throne which had been caused by that alarming demand of the Duke of Marlborough. Mr. Harley was determined to prevent the Duke’s causing trouble; and as for Godolphin, she was getting tired of him; Sunderland she had never liked, although she had been forced into allowing him to take office. How pleasant then to talk of babies with Abigail. There had never been such cosy confidences with Sarah, although Sarah had had a large family. Sarah was unnatural. She had never been interested in the charming details of family life.

“Mrs. Abrahal was a comfort,” said Abigail. “I should like to reward her. And she is so fond of little Anne.”

“We must let her know how much we appreciate her goodness,” replied the Queen. “I will raise her allowance. That will please her.”

“Shall I send her to Your Majesty later?”

“Please do. I do declare the enchanting creature is smiling at me.”

“She knows her Queen already. I’ll swear she will be as good a servant to Your Majesty as her mother has always tried to be.”

Such pleasant hours! So far removed from the demands and schemes of ambitious men.

Mrs. Abrahal curtsied to the Queen.

“Ah, Abrahal, Mrs. Masham has been telling me how good you were to her during her trying confinement.”

“Your Majesty, it was my duty and I would say that Mrs. Masham bore herself with courage for it was not an easy labour.”

“No. I understand that. And I know full well how trying such times can be.” The Queen looked sad but brightened as she remembered the Masham child who seemed so healthy—far more so than any of hers had been. “Mr. Masham must be delighted,” she added. Then she noticed that Mrs. Abrahal was looking very pale.

“You do not look well yourself, Abrahal,” she said.

“Your Majesty is gracious to notice, Madam. But I am growing old.”

“You have been long in my service I know.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, it is twenty years since I started washing your Brussels lace-heads.”

“Is it possible?” sighed the Queen and was sad again, being reminded of George, who had used that phrase so often. “Well, Abrahal, Mrs. Masham has told me how kind you were to her and as a result I am going to have your allowance raised.”

“Your Majesty is so good,” said Mrs. Abrahal, tears in her eyes.

“I like to see good service rewarded,” said Anne kindly. “But what I do not like is to see you looking so pale. You should drink a little wine each day. I remember the dear Prince’s saying that a little wine, taken regularly, was very good for the health.”

“Your Majesty …”

Anne held up a hand. “I shall order a bottle of wine to be sent to you every day. I want you to go on washing my lace-heads for many years to come.”

Mrs. Abrahal, murmuring her thanks, was ushered out of the apartment by Mrs. Masham. When she had recovered from her surprise and pleasure a little, she remarked to Mrs. Danvers that there was no doubt whom one had to please now if one hoped to advance one’s fortunes at Court. The Duchess of Marlborough was on the way out; Abigail Masham was undoubtedly in.

Although the Queen had no wish to see Sarah, Sarah clung tenaciously to her duties. Always at the back of her mind was the thought that she could not fail eventually to win her way back to her old position at Court.