Royal Sisters: The Story of the Daughters of James II - Plaidy

“If you wish … but being so close …”

“I think that the heiress to the throne is entitled to very fine apartments in Whitehall and I have made my choice.”

Sometimes, thought Mary, when Anne asserted herself it was as though Sarah Churchill were speaking.

“Oh, and which are these.”

“Those which were once the Duchess of Portsmouth’s.”

“It is strange that you should ask for these,” said Mary, “for the Earl of Devonshire had asked me for them and I have promised that he shall have them.”

“So then I must stand aside for Devonshire?”

“You know that is not so. But having promised him I must speak to him on this matter.”

Anne bowed her head. “I pray Your Majesty to give me leave to retire.”

Back to Sarah went Anne.

“So you must wait on Devonshire?”

“She had promised him.”

“And when the heiress to the throne asks for apartments she is denied them because Master Devonshire has put in a prior claim? I never heard the like!”

“Doubtless he will give them up when he knows I want them.”

“And so the heiress to the throne is to wait on his leavings? You must write at once to your sister and tell her this. It is the only way in which you can uphold your dignity.”

Mary was so disturbed by Anne’s letter that she went to William. He listened coldly to the problem.

“You see, William,” went on Mary, “I had promised them to Devonshire, and I find it difficult to withdraw that promise now.”

William narrowed his eyes. “Her income is enormous,” he said. “I have been looking into these matters. Why does she need so much money? Why should she keep a separate table? The royal family should eat together. We need money for more serious matters than cards and favorites. Anne will have to reform her way of life; and that very soon. But in the meantime let her have the apartments she covets and retain the Cockpit. Then I shall go into the subject of her income.”

“But Devonshire, William.…”

William looked surprised. “Naturally you will tell him to stand aside.”

Mary bowed her head. She would, as usual, do exactly as William ordered.

“You see,” said Sarah, “it is only necessary to stand firm. They have browbeaten you because they believe you will allow it. But let me tell you this, if my dear Mrs. Morley will let others take advantage of her goodness, Mrs. Freeman will not.”

“You are right, of course, Sarah.”

“And it seems to me that apartments in Whitehall, however fine, and a place like the Cockpit, are not enough for the future Queen of England. I shall never forget Richmond, shall you?”

“Never. We were so happy there and it was in Richmond Palace that I first grew to know my dear Mrs. Freeman.”

“It has always been a royal palace and I cannot for the life of me see why it should not be yours.”

“Richmond! Oh, how I should love to be there again. The air always agreed with me so well.”

“Then you should ask for it, because it is by right yours.”

“I believe the Villiers have a lease on it.”

“The Villiers! Squint-eyed Betty and her family! It is not enough that Caliban spends the night with Squint-Eye instead of the Queen, but other members of that odious family may snatch your rightful home from you, as their sister does the King from the Queen.”

“I think I should have Richmond.”

“Then ask for it.”

The Villiers were in higher favor than Devonshire, and William was not going to force Elizabeth’s family to give up what they wanted to keep. Lady Frances Villiers, the deceased governess of Mary and Anne, had had a lease on the Palace and this was passed to one of her daughters, Madame Puissars, who had no intention of giving it up because Sarah Churchill wanted the Princess Anne to have it.

“You know what this means,” Sarah pointed out to Anne. “It is Caliban’s decree and of course your sister obeys him slavishly even when it is for the sake of his mistress. I dislike the entire Villiers breed, and I cannot say that I think very highly of the Queen for allowing them to hold such an influence over her husband.”

“Mary is quite besotted with the King. And it is not as though he is even kind to her. I thank God I did not have to marry him. Sarah, do you know, I think I was happier when my father was on the throne.”

Anne looked plaintive. They must reconcile themselves to being without Richmond, but Anne did not greatly care and it was more Sarah’s defeat than hers. Moreover, Anne’s confinement was drawing near and her thoughts were occupied with the coming birth.

Sarah was thoughtful. Ever since the Coronation she had been uneasy. The revolution had occurred so easily and she had imagined that once James was deposed that would be an end of him; but it seemed this was not so. James had friends—among them the King of France who was one of the most powerful monarchs in Europe. James was in possession of almost the whole of Ireland and parts of Scotland; he had struck terror into the minds of his daughters by his timely letter; and it was not improbable that he might return.

William was not popular and never would be because he lacked charm, and, although he had his virtues, he was no saint. His manners were bad; he was uncouth; although he was calm and controlled there were occasions when he seemed deliberately to let loose his temper, as he had when he had struck a gentleman with his horsewhip for riding before him on the race ground. This was considered bad manners by the English; it was simply not done, and the story was repeated and enlarged on and those who loved to record such incidents with wise sayings declared that it was the only blow he had struck for supremacy in his kingdoms. It was the age of lampoons and the royal family was spied on and every failing noted to become the inspiration for some gibe.

William was so often ill that only his great spirit enabled him to continue; he could not conceal his terrible cough, and it was the common belief that he would not live long. And after he was gone, pondered Sarah, would Mary be able to hold the country together? In spite of her devotion to William she was gay, and quite clearly if she could escape from his stern eye there would have been dancing every night at one of the Palaces. As it was there was card playing. Card playing, William had said, was a safe occupation for his Queen because it prevented her talking. Mary was affable; she was beautiful, in spite of her growing bulky she was stately; and she had inherited some of her uncle’s charm. But her apparent lack of concern for her father’s fate had not pleased the people and continual comparisons were drawn to the tragedy of Lear and in some quarters she was known as Goneril.

It did not seem inconceivable to Sarah therefore that one day James might return. If he did Anne must be forgiven by him. Mary he would find it difficult to forgive for she had committed the great sin of allowing herself to be crowned. Not so Anne. It might be possible to convince James that Anne had been led astray by her wicked sister and brother-in-law. Anne was uneasy now; she could not rid herself of the sense of guilt which that Coronation letter had aroused in her. Mary felt the same but dared not admit it.

This was a situation which needed delicate handling and Sarah was not noted for her delicacy. She had always bludgeoned her way to victory and could use no other method. But subtlety was needed here. It was a fact that already certain people were beginning to drink to “The King over the Water”; there was a seemingly innocent trick of what was known as “Squeezing the Orange” but which had its significance.

The people were fickle. They had cried “No popery”; but if James would come back and promise there should be no popery would they welcome him? At least he was the rightful King; at least he was not a semi-hunchback with a Dutch accent, who, when standing, only came up to his wife’s shoulder, and had a perpetual sneer on his pale face.

Sarah had decided what must happen. There must be friction between Anne and the King and Queen. They could not disinherit her because there would be a revolution if they did. But at least strained relations between them would show the Jacobites and James, if he should return, that Anne was not in favor of the new King and Queen.

The best way of maddening them, Sarah decided, was to ask for an increase in her annual income.

Sarah was indefatigable; she had determined that the Princess’s income should be raised. Sarah had her friends in Parliament and they knew well what an important role the Marlboroughs played in the country’s affairs. Anne, pointed out Sarah, was heiress to the crown; yet she was treated like a pauper. Look at her husband. He was snubbed at every turn by the King and whatever the King did, the Queen agreed with. Did they forget that Prince George was the consort of the heiress to the throne? The only way these wrongs could be righted was by voting Anne an annual income of ninety thousand pounds. This was absurd, of course; but as Sarah had said to Anne if they aimed high they would get nearer to the mark than by aiming low.

William who had been contemplating cutting Anne’s allowance was not in Parliament when the commons voted Anne an income of forty thousand pounds a year.

William and Mary had not been consulted and when Mary heard what had happened, she was horrified; so was William, but he hid his chagrin and immediately dissolved Parliament before the matter could be settled, and Mary sent for Anne and demanded to know what part she had played in this affair.

Anne, without Sarah to advise, muttered that she believed her friends were of the opinion that she should have an income commensurate with her position.

“Your friends?” cried Mary bitterly. “What friends have you but the King and myself? Others may tell you they are your friends, but their actions belie this.”

Anne had nothing to say and, as quickly as she could, took her leave and went to Sarah. It was always such a pleasure to listen to Sarah, raving about her injustices. Anne enjoyed the feeling of self-pity and the pleasure of knowing that her much-loved friend could be so vehement on her behalf.

“Oh,” cried Sarah dramatically, “how you have been betrayed! Who gave them help when they needed it. Who invited him over to England? Who kept him informed of what was happening at the Court? Who defied her own father for his sake? For all this you are offered forty thousand pounds and not even that, for Parliament is dissolved before it can grant it to you.”

“They have been most unfair to me,” cried Anne.

“My poor Mrs. Morley! But there is one who would fight for you with all her might—against King against Queen against all the world for your sake.”

“Oh, dear Mrs. Freeman, it is worth being treated thus to know this.”

“Do not think I shall allow them to continue treating you like this. We will go on fighting until we win … something.”

When Mary and Anne met, the Queen was cold to her sister and Anne returned her coldness.

The beginning af Sarah’s rupture had started.

William detested Anne whom he thought vapid and ridiculous; he remarked to Elizabeth Villiers that he was delighted he had not had to marry her, for if he had he would surely have been the most miserable man on earth. But he realized that there must not be this trouble in the family and much as he deplored her extravagance he must do all in his power to prevent an open rift.

Elizabeth was a delight to him; she was serious when he wanted her to be and she had a grasp on affairs so that he did not have to explain in detail what was worrying him.

“Of course,” she said on this occasion, “it is the Marlboroughs who are behind this trouble. Sarah Churchill has persuaded Anne to ask for a bigger grant. And you know why—so that the bulk of it can go into the Marlborough purse. I know through my sister what goes on in that household.”

“We shall have to make a settlement—and with as little bother as possible. Although it is disconcerting to see good money thrown away I would agree to a grant of fifty thousand pounds to silence her, for silenced she must be.”

“Sarah knows this and I doubt if she will settle for fifty thousand pounds.”

“She must, because the country can afford no more.”

“I will get my sister Barbara to have a word with Sarah Churchill, telling her that she would be wise to settle for fifty thousand pounds and that if she does not, she will ruin her own chances. For if Anne will not accept fifty thousand pounds, she may well be forced to take much less, and if that is the case, grants to the Churchills will necessarily be clipped.”

“What a pass it is,” said William angrily, “when a man and his wife hold the country up to ransom in this way.”

“How did it ever happen?”

“A clever pair one has to admit. He the brilliant soldier-adventurer, she the controller of the heir presumptive.”

“Barbara shall speak to her without delay,” said Elizabeth, giving him her slow fascinating smile. “It is ridiculous that with all your responsibilities you should be troubled with such a matter.”

“So you see,” said Lady Fitzharding, “it would be folly not to take what is offered, for if it is withdrawn that amount might not be offered again.”

“A paltry fifty thousand pounds!” cried Sarah disgustedly.

“You call that paltry?”

“Yes, Barbara Fitzharding, I do, when it is offered to the heir of England.”

“Don’t be foolish, Sarah. Don’t you see what trouble you may be in if you persist in this quarrel, because we all know it is your quarrel rather than that of the Princess Anne. Do not forget that you are setting yourself against the King and Queen.”

“I would rather die than sacrifice the Princess!” declared Sarah.

Barbara smiled and although Sarah had a desire to slap the smile off that silly Villiers’ face, she desisted.

“Shrewsbury will come to the Princess to make the formal offer of fifty thousand pounds from the King,” went on Barbara.

“And I shall be with the Princess to offer her my support when he comes.”

She was true to her word, and when the Earl of Shrewsbury arrived was in her mistress’s company.

“It is a private matter, Your Highness.”

“All my affairs are known to the Countess of Marlborough,” replied Anne.

Shrewsbury had no alternative but to accept Sarah’s presence.

“His Majesty says that if Your Highness will refrain from soliciting Parliament he will personally guarantee you fifty thousand pounds a year.”

Anne looked at Sarah who burst out: “And what if the King should not keep his word?”

Shrewsbury looked at her in astonishment while Anne’s admiration for her friend’s boldness was apparent.