The Spencers were wealthy; Charles was a Whig, it was true, and Marlborough was a Tory; but Sarah was a little more inclined to Whiggery than her husband and she did not regard this as an obstacle. Charles Spencer had already made a name for himself with his democratic notions when he had declared that he would, when the time came refuse the title of Lord and be known as Charles Spencer; he was, according to Sarah, a prig of a Whig, disapproving of his father whose conduct had at times been quite scandalous. But Sarah believed herself capable of directing her son-in-law in the way he would have to go.

Perhaps she was more interested in his colourful father. Robert Spencer, the second earl of Sunderland, had had an exciting career. Feigning fidelity to James II, he had even gone so far as to pose as a Catholic in order to find a way into his favours, while at the same time corresponding through his wife—as wild a character as himself—with the Orange Court supporting the plan to bring William and Mary to England.

Sunderland had been the object of scandal more than once in his life. A young man, with a gay past behind him, deciding to settle down and marry, he chose Anne Digby daughter of the Earl of Bristol, a match which seemed doubly advantageous, for the young lady was not only beautiful but rich. But before the marriage could take place Sunderland had disappeared, having, he afterwards explained, no stomach for matrimony; but he was brought back and the ceremony took place. His wife was an intriguer who, far from being put out by her bridegroom’s conduct, welcomed it, for it gave her an opportunity of pursuing her own colourful life. Very soon she formed an attachment to Henry Sidney, her husband’s uncle and one of the most attractive men at Court, who had earned for himself the title of The Terror of Husbands. He was even suspected by the Duke of York of making love to the first Duchess, Anne Hyde, and dismissed from Court for a period because of this.

Sunderland however bore no grudges on account of his wife’s infidelity. She and he had agreed that one of the ways to favours in those days was the courting of the King’s mistresses and this they did by providing lavish entertainments which, since they were given in honour of the King’s mistresses, obviously brought the King to their table. When Charles was enamoured of Louise de Keroualle and she wanted a guarantee of security before she succumbed, it was Lady Sunderland who arranged what she called a “wedding” for King Charles and the French woman and this was celebrated at the Sunderlands’ house.

But with the passing of Charles and the coming to the throne of James it was necessary to decide where it was necessary to bestow one’s allegiance. Sunderland was an opportunist—so while he pretended to support James he was in league with William of Orange that he might be ready to leap whichever way would bring him most advantage.

William was shrewd; he did not trust Sunderland; in fact no one trusted Sunderland. Yet he was a man whom no one could ignore. When Queen Mary had died and William was disturbed as to whether his subjects would continue to accept him as King, it was Sunderland who had shrewdly arranged a reconciliation between the King and the Princess Anne, which William had realized afterwards was the best method of placating those who were against him.

Sunderland was a man of brilliance and William could not afford to do without him—nor, decided Sarah, could the Marlboroughs.

Sarah considered the possibilities of alliance. His son, Charles Spencer, in himself would be an excellent parti. Robert Spencer, Sunderland’s eldest son, had led a profligate life and died some ten years before; thus Charles was the heir. There had been a third son who had died as a child, and four daughters, two of whom were dead. The vast Spencer wealth would be at Charles’s disposal; Charles was a brilliant politician, and Sunderland was one of the most influential men in the country. So union with the Spencers was necessary.

When Sarah told her husband this he was disturbed.

“Charles Spencer for our young Anne,” he demanded.

“Young Anne! Really, Marl, what are you thinking? You still see her as a child. She is not I assure you. She will soon be as old as Henrietta was when she married; and look what a success that marriage was.”

“I don’t like Charles Spencer.”

“Why should you? You don’t have to marry him.”

“But our little girl …”

“She has been brought up to look after herself. Have no fear she will do that.”

“No,” said Marlborough, “I don’t like it.”

Sarah sighed. Not only had she to arrange this difficult match, but she must make her husband see that it was necessary.

She set to work in her usual indefatigable manner.

Since Marlborough was not eager for the match Sarah herself sounded Sunderland, who at once grasped the importance of what she was trying to do.

By God, thought Sunderland, they already have Godolphin. With Marlborough and myself, the three of us would be invincible.

To Sarah’s delight he was wholeheartedly enthusiastic.

“My daughter is a very beautiful and charming girl,” said Sarah.

“I am sure, having such a mother, she could be nothing else,” was Sunderland’s reply.

Sarah waved such flattery aside impatiently. “My Lord Marlborough, however, is not in great favour of the match.”

“And why not, I pray you tell me.”

“Oh, Lord Spencer is a Whig and my lord is a staunch Tory.”

“My son would be guided by me in all matters of importance.”

Would he? wondered Sarah. She remembered how the Whiggish prig had denounced his father’s conduct. But that was of no great concern. If Sunderland could not manage his son, she would manage her son-in-law. The important point was to have the three most powerful families together.

“I will tell Lord Marlborough what you say,” she replied; “it might influence him.”

She was elated. Sunderland seemed so eager for the alliance with the Churchills that she believed he would do her work for her. How much better if he would persuade dear sentimental Marl of the advantages. Far better to come from him than from her.

“Perhaps you should see my lord Marlborough,” she told Sunderland. “He would be interested to hear what you have to say on this matter. As for myself, I must hurry to the Princess. I see I am overdue.”

Sunderland took his leave of her and she thought how much she would have liked to have been present when he talked to her husband. But she had her duties. Always her duties. Those trivial little tasks for which she was always having to hurry back to the Princess’s bedchamber.

How much more time she would have to do useful things if she could delegate these simple homely tasks to someone whom she could trust. What she wanted was some colourless person whom the Princess would not notice about the apartment; someone who would do what had to be done quietly and efficiently and call no attention to herself.

Abigail Hill!

Why had she not thought of that before? Abigail was just the one she needed. And what advancement for Abigail! From Mother of the Maids to chamber woman in the Princess’s own bedchamber. The girl would be grateful to her kind benefactress to the end of her days. She would want to repay her kindness in the only way she could; and that would be to work for the benefit of Lady Marlborough for the rest of her life.

“Abigail Hill!” said Lady Marlborough aloud. “Why of course. Abigail Hill!”

As Mother of the Maids Abigail had opportunities of seeing her brother and sister. Alice was delighted with her position which brought her two hundred pounds a year—a vast sum—and plenty of entertainment besides.

Abigail soon gathered that, like everyone else in the Duke of Gloucester’s household, she adored him. He was an extraordinary boy with his frail body and active mind, his great interest in military matters, his army of ninety boys whom he drilled and inspected daily, his droll sayings, his ability to foretell events, for, declared Alice, he had assuredly foretold the death of his old nurse Mrs. Pack, and that was years ago, before the death of Queen Mary.

“Often,” said Alice, “the Princess comes to visit him and cousin Sarah is sometimes with her. It is true, you know Abigail, the Princess does adore our cousin; and they say she is ruled by her in all things.”

“How strange that she should be,” mused Abigail. “She … a Princess!”

“Well, our cousin is handsome, bold and clever.”

“Brazen, I should say,” mused Abigail. “I never knew anyone with such effrontery.”

“We at least have to be grateful for it. Remember that.”

“Have no fear, Alice. We shall never be allowed to forget.”

“Do you know, Abby, I feel proud to be connected with her.”

Abigail nodded and said nothing.

When she saw her brother John he talked excitedly about the household of the Prince of Denmark.

“He’s kind,” was John’s verdict, “and always on the point of falling asleep. Someone said of him that it is only the fact that he breathes which makes you know he’s alive—in all else he is dead. It’s true he says little; but you should see him eat—and drink. And his answer to everything is ‘Est il possible?’ In the household they call him Old Est il Possible? But he is rarely annoyed and everyone likes working for him as they do for the Princess.”

“Is he often with the Princess?”

“Yes. But when he visits her he falls asleep. Then she talks to our cousin who is always in attendance.”

It was remarkable how the conversation always came back to Sarah.

“How does he feel about cousin Sarah? He must be put out by her influence over his wife.”

“He is never put out. He has the sweetest temper in the world. Besides, the Princess dotes on our cousin and for that reason he too is fond of Cousin Sarah.”

Abigail considered this and believed she would never understand how one who was as overbearing and took no pains to be pleasant should be so admired.

But when she was face to face with her cousin she was conscious of Sarah’s power. This happened one day when a message was brought to her that Lady Marlborough wished to speak to her without delay.

Abigail went at once to Sarah’s apartment which was connected with the Princess’s by a staircase; and there Sarah was impatiently waiting her.

“Ah, Abigail Hill.”

Yes, she was magnificent; her handsome looks, her vitality, her strident voice; her laughter sudden and coarse; her presence commanding.

“You sent for me, Lady Marlborough?”

Sarah nodded. “I have good news for you. You have done well at your post and I am going to see that you are rewarded.”

“Your ladyship is good to me.” Abigail gave no indication of her apprehension. What would be her reward? Not to return to St. Albans!

“I know that I can trust you. I am going to put you closer to the Princess.”

“I … I see.” Abigail’s face had become faintly pink; it would show, she was aware, in her nose and she would look even more unattractive than usual.

“Yes,” went on Sarah, “I know that you are well aware how to be discreet. You will be a chambermaid and you will do small tasks for the Princess … fetching and carrying when necessary. It is a pleasant post; in fact it is close to my own. You will not only be near the Princess but near me.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, Lady Marlborough.”

“You will please me if you do your work well. The Princess needs you to bring what she wants without her asking. You must anticipate her needs. See that her dish of sweetmeats is replenished, that her cards are always at hand and that none is lost and that they are replaced when necessary; you will see that her clothes are in order, that when she needs gloves you have them. At the same time you must behave as though you are not there. Her Highness would not wish you to intrude. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Lady Marlborough.”

“I am glad. You will take over tasks which I once performed and for which I now have not the time. Your duty in fact is to let it seem that I am there when I am not. Speak only to the Princess when spoken to. I doubt she will speak to you. You will discover what is needed of you as time goes on. I am going to take you to Her Highness now and explain that you will be there to perform the more menial tasks of the bedchamber. Don’t forget. Don’t speak unless you are spoken to. You will have to remember that you are in the presence of Royalty. Do you think you can?”

“Yes, I think so.”