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

“This is monstrous,” cried Anne, wiping her eyes. “To think that you come here … and me in my present state …”

“I do not mean to upset you, merely to make you see a little good sense.”

“Which in your opinion is to rid myself of my best friends.”

“Your friends are the King and myself.”

“I have yet to see any signs of your friendship.”

“Oh, you are the most ungrateful wretch!”

“Should you talk of ingratitude?”

Anne’s lips were pursed together, for she was remembering the letter she had written to her father. How much happier she had felt since writing that! Mary had asked no forgiveness. How could she, tied as she was to Dutch William? The only way she could repent was to go back to Holland and take her Dutchman with her.

How much more pleasant for Anne; all she had to do was write her penitent letter and continue to live at the Cockpit with Gloucester nearby and perhaps another little one soon, and dear Sarah her constant companion.

Her constant companion—that was the point at issue.

“Sarah shall remain with me,” she said stubbornly. “No one shall take her away from me.”

The Earl of Marlborough, one of the lords of the bedchamber, arrived at the King’s apartment to perform his duties as usual.

William, wigless, in bed, was not a handsome sight; but all his attendants were accustomed to that by now.

The ceremony was never a very pleasant one. Charles II had made of it a very merry occasion, with his quips and jokes and the King’s wit was something worth listening to. James’s rising ceremony had not been amusing, but it had been dignified and there had been conversation, although it was almost always confined to horses and women. William’s was silent and was merely the grim purpose of dressing the King.

It was Marlborough’s duty to put on William’s shirt. He did this as usual, and if the King looked at him as though he did not exist, that was not unusual.

The duty over, Marlborough was leaving the apartment when Lord Nottingham approached him.

“My Lord Marlborough, a word with you.”

Marlborough and several of the bedchamber people halted to listen, for there was something grave—even ominous—in Nottingham’s tone.

“The King has asked me to inform you that he has no further use for your services.”

“What!”

Nottingham nodded. “All your employments should be sold or disposed of, for neither the King nor the Queen wish to see you at Court.”

Marlborough was stunned. This could mean discovery. Then why not imprisonment? Dismissal. Banishment. How could he possibly go forward with his schemes if he were forbidden the Court?

Curious glances were directed toward him. He must pull himself together. He lifted his shoulders, smiled and went quickly on his way.

There was gossip all through the Court. What is Marlborough’s sin? What a disgrace! To tell him in that way with so many looking on! And after his campaign in Ireland! Why, if Marlborough had not deserted James when he did, William would not have had it so easy.

It was circulated that he was accused of taking bribes. Well, that was true enough. But if everyone who took bribes was going to be driven from Court there wouldn’t be many left.

Ah, here was the real reason. He had spread infection in the Army by complaining of the privileges given to the Dutch and denied the English.

Dutch William did not like that.

So … that was the end of Marlborough.

Sarah was stricken between sorrow and rage. That this should happen to her John, to the most brilliant commander in the Army, was unthinkable! If ever she had disliked William and Mary she hated them now. Loathed them! Detested them! And she was determined that they should pay to the full for this.

She went at once to her husband.

He took her into his arms and tried to soothe her for he had never seen her in such a state of rage and excitement.

“My dear, be calm,” he begged.

“Calm! When you have been insulted … by that monstrosity, that gorilla, that abortion! How dare he!”

“He has discovered that I am writing to James.”

“No!”

“I think so.”

“He has not said …”

“No, he is too clever. He knows that if it were said half the country would rise up behind me. They do not want him here.”

“And a good thing if they did.”

“No, Sarah. Bring back James … and the Prince of Wales? What are you thinking of?”

“It would not do, of course.”

“No. Remember it, my dearest, and be calm.”

“They want to drive me away too.”

He nodded. “They will not feel safe while you are at the Cockpit.”

“But I am staying at the Cockpit.”

“I fancy they won’t allow it.”

“We shall see. We shall see.”

There was nothing for him to do but retire to St. Albans.

“Not for long,” said Sarah fiercely.

She went to Anne for comfort and it was one of the rare occasions when Anne saw Sarah weep.

“My dearest, dearest Mrs. Freeman,” cried Anne, the tears flowing down her plump red cheeks. “I beg of you, do not weep so. You distress me. I cannot bear to see my proud Mrs. Freeman thus.”

“I think of what he has done. But for him they would not be here. He could have prevented them. He has helped to subdue Ireland; he has fought for them bravely and this is how they reward him. Dismissed the Court! Banished … and all on trumped-up charges!”

“They must not be allowed to do this,” said Anne ineffectually.

“They have done it; and what is more they have only just begun. You know what they will do next. They will separate us.”

Anne was fierce suddenly. “Never!” she cried.

She threw her arms about Sarah and clung to her.

Sarah remained quietly at the Cockpit; Marlborough was at St. Albans; and three weeks had passed.

On February 6th, which was Anne’s birthday, Anne was invited to Kensington Palace to celebrate the occasion.

“I shall accompany you,” announced Sarah.

“Of course, dear Mrs. Freeman.”

“They will not be expecting me. They will think I want to hide myself because of my husband’s so-called disgrace. I will show them that nothing he has ever done makes me ashamed. I am proud of him. I wonder they do not forbid me to go to Court; but they have not done that yet.”

“They know that I should never go without you,” said Anne.

“Dear Mrs. Morley. My one comfort in my trouble.”

“Dearest Mrs. Freeman, what are friends if not to comfort each other in adversity?”

They left the Cockpit together; and as the Princess’s carriage passed along, the people cheered her; but the surprise of the people was obvious when they saw that Sarah Churchill was accompanying her; the entire city knew of Marlborough’s disgrace and believed that would be an end of his ambitions. Therefore it was odd to see Marlborough’s wife in the Princess’s carriage.

When they arrived at the Palace even greater surprise greeted them.

“Was Marlborough’s wife mad?” courtiers whispered to each other. “How could she be received at Court when her husband was in disgrace?”

Sarah was well aware of the stir she created; she walked a pace or so behind Princess Anne, her head high, her eyes flashing scorn, through the royal apartments, which even now retained a whiff or two of fresh paint, into the state apartments so lovingly designed by William and watched over by Mary, to where the King and Queen were waiting.

Anne curtseyed; so did Sarah; and when Mary saw the latter she was almost unable to suppress a gasp of dismay and astonishment.

Mary drew her sister aside and spoke coolly to her. Sarah she ignored.

Many would have tried to hide themselves in the throng; not so, Sarah; it was as though she flaunted her presence in the royal apartments, as though she were saying: “You may not want me, but here I am and here I remain.”

The next day a letter was delivered to the Princess Anne from the Queen.

I hope you do me the justice to believe it is as much against my will that I now tell you that, after this, it is very unfit that Lady Marlborough should stay with you, since that gives her husband so just a pretence of being where he should not. I think I might have expected you should have spoken to me of it; and the King and I, both believing it, made us stay thus long. But, seeing you so far from it, that you brought Lady Marlborough hither last night, makes us resolve to put it off no longer, but tell you she must not stay, and I have all the reason imaginable to look upon your bringing her here as the strangest thing that ever was done. Nor could all my kindness for you (which is always ready to turn all you do to the best way) at any other time have hindered me from showing you so that moment, but I considered your condition, and that made me master myself so far as not to take notice of it then.… I tell you plainly that Lady Marlborough must not continue with you in the circumstance her lord is.

Sarah, who was with Anne when she read this letter, snatched it from the Princess and gave vent to her rage.

“You see how they treat you! Who would believe that you are the heiress to this crown when you are treated like a serving wench!”

“Sarah, we are not going to be parted.”

“Until you dismiss me, I would never go,” was Sarah’s rejoinder.

“Then what can I do?”

“You can write to her and tell her that you resent her unkindness and have no intention of parting with Lady Marlborough.”

“What will they do then?”

“What can they do? It is for you to choose those you wish to have about you.”

So once more under Sarah’s dictation Anne wrote to her sister, and when the letter reached her Mary sent orders that Lady Marlborough was to leave the Cockpit.

“There is only one thing to do,” said Sarah; “I must leave the Cockpit, so if you do not want us to be parted you must come with me.”

“Where can we go?”

“My dear Mrs. Morley forgets she is the heiress to the throne. There will be some who are ready to lend her a lodging, I’ll swear. What of Sion House? That would be comfortable. I am sure the Duchess of Somerset would not deny you shelter there if you asked it. Shall I arrange for a letter to be taken to her while we prepare to leave.”

“Oh, dear Mrs. Freeman, you think of everything!”

“Then write immediately. Someone must take care of Mrs. Morley. Remember her condition, and she is never well during these times. A miscarriage could be brought on. I am sure the people will realize how harsh your sister and her Dutchman are to turn you out of doors at such a time.”

So Anne wrote the letter while Barbara Fitzharding immediately went to her sister to tell her that Anne was proposing to move to Sion House with Sarah.

When William heard this he sent to the Duke of Somerset asking him to refuse the request of the Princess Anne.

As one of the foremost noblemen of England, Somerset was furious to be dictated to. What did this Dutchman think he was doing? He must realize that England was not Holland. They wanted no uncouth foreigners here. A request had been made to his wife by a kinswoman who happened to be heiress to the throne, and Somerset implied that he had received the Kings request too late, and his wife had already offered Sion House to the Princess Anne.

Anne, with Sarah and George, left for Sion House, and William’s retort was to rob them of all the honors which they had enjoyed; these included their guards, so when they left, they rode in their carriage unaccompanied.

The people watched them: the Princess Anne, large with child; her faithful woman beside her and her husband, holding her hand, assuring her of his affection during all their troubles.

What was the Dutch monster doing to their Princess? asked the people. She was no favorite of his because she was English and the King had no favor to bestow on the English. Was not Marlborough in disgrace for pointing this out?

Anne smiled wanly and waved her hand in acknowledgment of the cheers.

“Poor long-suffering lady!” said the watchers.

A few days later when she rode out in her carriage, with Sarah beside her, her coach was held up near Brentford by two masked men.

Anne was terrified. Such a thing had never happened to her before. Sarah demanded: “What does this mean?”

“It means, lady, you hand over your valuables and keeps your life … or if you don’t, you loses both. The choice is yours.”

“Do you realize this lady is the Princess Anne and I am Lady Marlborough.”

“Thanks for the information, lady. You should have some very nice valuables.”

Anne was lying back against the upholstery, her plump cheeks quivering. The coachman dared do nothing. Trembling she removed her jewelry and put it into the grimy outstretched hand; she dared not look at the eyes glinting behind the mask.

To her chagrin, Sarah was forced to do the same.

Then satisfied, the highwaymen allowed them to go on their way.

The Princess Anne held up in her coach and robbed of her jewels—some said to be priceless!

What next? Had she not been robbed of her guards, of course, she would not have been robbed of her jewels. This was no way to treat a royal Princess. It was Dutch William’s doing. He had taken away her protectors and she, poor lady, not far off her accouchement, was in peril of being robbed—perhaps murdered—on the highways.

The lampoons began again. The popularity of the Princess had never been so high, that of the King never so low.

Rebellion all about him, thought William. How ready the people were to take sides against him! They were cheering Anne, that fat, stupid creature who hadn’t a mind of her own, and obeyed the odious Churchill woman in everything.

He was continually wondering what news was coming from Ireland and Scotland. Three crowns! he thought. How much better had there been but one. Ireland and Scotland—they were not worth the trouble.

In the last weeks he had heard that MacIan of Glencoe had refused for some time to take the oath to live peacefully under the Government. William had believed that if he promised pardon to all who had been in rebellion, provided they took the oath before the end of the last year, he would succeed in quelling rebellion. The majority, tired of conflict, had taken the oath.

William did not know that MacIan, head of the McDonald clan, had waited until the last day of December and then had gone to Fort William to take the oath, only to find there was no magistrate there. This had meant that he must travel to Inverary, through the Highlands in difficult weather, and thus he had not taken the oath until the sixth day of January.