CHAPTER V.
State of parties—Friendship of Marlborough and Godolphin—Discovery of Mr. Harley’s practices—Intrigues of the Court.
The Duke of Marlborough possessed at this time the confidence and amity of the most eminent of the Whig leaders. Notwithstanding the efforts which, in conjunction with Godolphin, he made to preserve a dignified, and, as he deemed it, a salutary neutrality between the two great parties, the Whigs had, during many sessions, regarded him as their own; and the jealousy which they are said to have entertained of his proceedings, guided by a more moderate spirit than their own, was not manifested when their appreciation of his public character came to be put to the proof.
In Godolphin, his dearest friend, his whole confidence was reposed. These two great menhad but one heart, one mind. On all important subjects they saw, they felt, in the same manner and degree. Their correspondence breathes the sentiments of a perfect union, and of the most unreserved communication. Their friendship was the handmaid to Marlborough’s glory; it was his rock of defence, when from the camp he turned his longing gaze to England; it was his sure resource, when buffeted by cabals abroad. To Godolphin, Marlborough owed much; and it may be said that his glory was reflected upon the honest and experienced Lord Treasurer. But Godolphin was indebted to his union with the Marlborough family for some obloquy, and for much jealousy, both at court and among the people. His close alliance with them was looked upon ungraciously; and, by some, even the constitution was thought to be endangered by the overweening influence of Marlborough, and by the fact that the army, the treasury, and the ascendency at foreign courts, were all centered in one family.[111]
Godolphin, however, seems to have been content to share the downfal of his friends the Duke and Duchess. Hitherto he had supported the continuance of the war, by every argument which he could suggest to the Queen, and had thusincurred her displeasure.[112]He had listened to the faction, whilst consolidating the Union with Scotland, in opposition to the counsels of Somers, and of Chancellor Cowper, and had thus forfeited their esteem. To this measure his ruin has been imputed. “Though that man,” says Cunningham, “had nothing in him that was abject, nothing mean, nothing low, except the lowliness of his mind, which was naturally disposed to be humble, yet he had not spirit and magnanimity equal to the settlement of the kingdoms; and, with regard to posthumous fame, he was indifferent to all posterity but his own.”[113]
Yet, perhaps, the instrument which most effectually lowered the influence of Godolphin was the hatred and consequent ill offices of Harley. Between these two ministers disunion had long since widened into entire aversion; and it was the aim of each to disparage and almost to ruin the other.[114]This disgust added a fresh incentive to the thirst for power to which Harley’s ambitious nature made him prone; whilst it was confirmed by his dislike and dread of that Duchess who had ever recourse to Godolphin’s counsels in times of difficulty.
The party which supported Marlborough wasstill, however, unbroken, and still pre-eminent. Lord Cowper, the distinguished chancellor, who was the greatest orator of his time, owed his elevation to the great men with whom Marlborough was allied. Lord Somers, infirm in health, and almost incapacitated from taking any part in public affairs, still gave the Whigs the benefits of his wisdom and experience.
Lord Halifax was in the vigour of his physical strength, and of his judgment; whilst Wharton, by his activity and industry, was ready to probe the strength and weakness of those who opposed his party, and generally succeeded in obtaining a knowledge of their intrigues. These powerful-minded men were aided by Lord Sunderland and Mr. Boyle, the two Secretaries of State—men in the prime of life, who with ease fulfilled the laborious duties imposed on them by their offices.[115]
These distinguished politicians were now, according to the Duchess of Marlborough, the objects of Harley’s intrigues. About the same time that Mrs. Masham’s secret influence over the Queen was discovered, Lord Godolphin obtained information of Mr. Harley’s practices, both within and without. His design, according to this partial authority, was “to ruin the Whigsby disuniting them from the ministry, and so to pave the way for the Tories to rise again; whom he thought to unite in himself, as their head, after he had made it impossible for them to think of a reconciliation with the Duke of Marlborough and Lord Godolphin.”[116]
The Duchess lost no time in acquainting the Duke, who was still on the continent, with this discovery. His answer to her communication bespeaks a mind weary with the contentions of the court, and indifferent, so far as his personal dealings were concerned, to the ascendency of his own, or the opposing party.
“If you have good reason,” he replies, “for what you write of the kindness and esteem the Queen has for Mrs. Masham and Mr. Harley, my opinion should be, that my Lord Treasurer and I should tell her Majesty what is good for herself; and if that will not prevail, to be quiet, and to let Mr. Harley and Mrs. Masham do what they please; for I own I am quite tired, and if the Queen can be safe, I shall be glad. I hope the Lord Treasurer will be of my mind; and then we shall be much happier than by being in a perpetual struggle.”
At a later time he remarks—
“What you write concerning the Queen, Mr.Harley, and Mrs. Masham, is of that consequence, that I think no time is to be lost in putting a stop to that management, or else let them have it entirely in their own hands.”
This, however, was an easier task for the Duke to advise, than for the Duchess to adopt. The Queen had still so great a portion of regard left for her early playmate and friend, that she might yet have relented, if the Duchess would at least have remained passively in the shade, or sustained her reverse of favour with dignified equanimity. Such a part would have been politic, and it might have been successful; for in most quarrels it is the petty provocations which embitter enmities, whilst the first grave cause is comparatively but little felt.
It is evident that Queen Anne had neither the inclination nor the courage to undertake an open quarrel with her ministry, nor with her early, and still dreaded, perhaps still beloved, friend. Upon hearing from Lord Godolphin his suspicions of the mischief that Harley intended to the party to which he and Marlborough were attached, her Majesty was at first incredulous; but when assured by the Lord Treasurer that if Harley remained in the royal favour, he and Lord Marlborough must quit her Majesty’s service, she became alarmed, and immediately wrote a letterfull of affection, and indeed of submission, to her “dear Mrs. Freeman.” These extraordinary productions, such as were never perhaps addressed before, nor since, by a sovereign to a subject, were either the effect of artful advice, or of pusillanimous caution; since they were followed by no amendment in respect to certain matters complained of, nor by any returning kindness for the discarded friend whom she addressed.[117]
Lord Godolphin also touched upon private matters, and endeavoured to enlighten the mind of her Majesty upon the ever-recurring feuds of Mrs. Masham and the Duchess. “I remember,” relates the latter in her manuscript Vindication, “he told me he had convinced the Queen indeed that Mrs. Masham was in the wrong, but that she showed she was very desirous to think her in the right.”[118]
This disposition in her Majesty rendered any hopes of a final reconciliation visionary. But the explanation brought some symptoms of relenting, from the haughty and elated Abigail.
The Duchess remained some time at St. James’s, in anxious expectation of hearing from Mrs. Masham, who, she now supposed, wouldendeavour to clear up all uneasiness that had arisen between her and her noble relative. But, to her surprise, day after day passed, and not even a message arrived, although the wrathful Sarah and her rival slept twelve days under the same roof. “At length,” relates the Duchess, “she having passed by her window one night on my return home, sent one of her maids to my woman, to askherhow I did, and to let me know she was gone to Kensington.”
This behaviour appeared so ridiculous, and probably so absurdly condescending to the Duchess, that she could not forbear speaking of it to the Queen, the next time she saw her Majesty. To her surprise and consternation, the Queen defended Mrs. Masham; she looked grave, and answered that Mrs. Masham was “mightily in the right not to go near her grace.” Upon this reply, a sharp altercation ensued. The Duchess returned with spirit, “that she did not understandthat, since a clearing up of a mutual misunderstanding had been left until a meeting took place between her and her cousin.” To this Anne, who had gained an unwonted supply of resolution, returned, that “it was very natural that Mrs. Masham should be afraid of going near the Duchess, when she saw that she was angry with her.” The Duchessretaliated by saying, “that her cousin could have no reason to be afraid, unless she knew herself guilty of some crime.” But she could elicit no further explanation from the Queen; for Anne was not fertile in argument, and had besides a practice, when she was obstinately bent upon any point, of repeating over and over again the same words. This provoking custom of substituting repetition instead of argument, which, according to the Duke of Marlborough, the Queen inherited from King James, she now called into requisition, to repel the fierce interrogatories of her exasperated and awful friend. “So she continued,” relates the Duchess, “to say it was very natural, and she was very much in the right.” And all that her mortified but unsubdued listener could glean from this conversation was, that the new favourite was deeply rooted in her Majesty’s heart, and that it would be more advisable to come to open hostilities with her ungrateful cousin, than to take any measures to mend the breach between them. It was on one of these occasions that the Duchess closed the door of the closet in which she and the Queen sat, with such violence, that the noise echoed through the whole apartment.[119]
Incensed as she was, a visit from Mrs. Masham,two days afterwards, failed to soothe the offended Duchess. She was abroad when the lowly Abigail called; but she took care, on her return, to give a general order to her servants, to say, whenever Mrs. Masham came, that she “was not at home.” But, after some time, an interview took place by mutual appointment. The scene was such as might have been expected. The conversation began by the Duchess reproaching Mrs. Masham with the change in the Queen’s sentiments towards her, which she could not fail to attribute entirely to Mrs. Masham’s secret influence over her Majesty. She upbraided her cousin for her concealment of that intimacy and confidence with which the Queen honoured her; and told her that she considered such artifice as a very bad sign of the motives which dictated such conduct. “It was certain,” the Duchess added, “that no good intentions towards herself could influence her actions.”
Mrs. Masham was, as it seems, prepared with a reply full of condescension and insult. “To this,” says the Duchess, “she very gravely answered, that she was sure the Queen, who had always loved me extremely, would always be very kind to me. It was some minutes before I could recover from the surprise with which so extraordinary an answer struck me.To see a woman whom I have raised out of the dust, put on such a superior air, and to hear her assure me, by way of consolation, that the Queen would always be very kind to me!” Yet restraining the impetuous burst of passion which might have been expected, she remained silent; “for I was stunned,” she observes, “to hear her say so strange a thing.”[120]
The Duchess then taunted Mrs. Masham with carrying to the Queen tales against some, and petitions in favour of other members of her Majesty’s household. Mrs. Masham, on the other hand, defended herself by saying that she only took to her royal mistress certain petitions which came to the back-stairs, and with which she knew that the Duchess did not care to be troubled. This perversion of facts did not blind the Duchess to the actual state of affairs, and the conversation ended in a long and ominous silence, broken by Mrs. Masham’s rising, and saying she hoped that the Duchess would sometimes give her leave to inquire after her health. Notwithstanding this condescending speech, the lady in power never once deigned, nor dared, to visit the dejected and deserted favourite.
Partly from policy, and, probably, partly from curiosity to see how matters stood, the Duchess thoughtproper, when her cousin’s marriage was publicly announced, to visit her with Lady Sunderland, purely, however, as she alleged, out of respect to the Queen, and to avoid any noise or disagreeable discourse which her refusing that ordinary act of civility might occasion. Fortunately, however, for the peace of St. James’s, the ungrateful bride was not at home when this undeserved honour was paid to her, by one from whom she had merited nothing but neglect.
The breach, however certain, and however sure the process by which it was widened, was not, as yet, perceptible to the court. Possibly all were reluctant to open a battery of anecdote and scandal against the redoubtable Sarah, who might be restored to her long-asserted ascendency. The Duchess was not without hopes of resuming her influence. During the Christmas holidays, she went to pay her respects to the Queen; but had the misery of learning from the page, before she went in, that Mrs. Masham had just been sent for. The last interview in which the least traces of friendly regard might be observed, must be told in the Duchess’s own words. It is evident that she had some lingering expectations that all differences might yet be healed, and that the Queen’s regard could be revived.
“The moment I saw her Majesty, I plainlyperceived she was uneasy. She stood all the while I was with her, and looked as coldly on me as if her intention was that I should no longer doubt of my loss of her affections. Upon observing what reception I had, I said ‘I was sorry I had happened to come so unseasonably.’ I was making my courtesy to go away, when the Queen, with a great deal of disorder in her face, and without speaking one word, took me by the hand. And when, thereupon, I stooped to kiss hers, she took me up with a very cold embrace, and then, without one kind word, let me go. So strange a treatment of me, after my long and faithful services, and after such repeated assurances from her Majesty of an unalterable affection, made me think that I ought, in justice to myself, as well as in regard to my mistress’s interest, to write to her in the plainest and sincerest manner possible, and expostulate with her upon her change to me, and upon the new counsels by which she seemed to be wholly governed.”
The letter addressed on this occasion by the Duchess to the Queen was truly characteristic of the honest mind by which it was framed. There is neither flattery nor violence, in the simple declaration of wounded feeling, expressed in the Duchess’s forcible language; and Queen Anne appears to have been touched by the directappeal to her best dispositions, which it contains.[121]For some days, indeed, no notice was taken of this remarkable epistle; but after a short time had elapsed, an answer was presented to the Duchess, who found in it symptoms of a relenting spirit in her altered sovereign; and, anxious on account of others, as well as for her own comfort, to avoid an open rupture, “she endeavoured once more to put on as easy an appearance as she could.”[122]
Upon a review of the circumstances which attended this notable quarrel, the character of the Duchess appears in a much more favourable light than, from the many defects of her ill-governed mind, could reasonably have been expected. In the first instance, she was generous to her kinswoman, confiding, and lenient. Slow in being aroused to suspicion, her conduct was straightforward and judicious when the truth was forced upon her unwilling conviction. She acted with sincerity, but not with address; and feelings too natural for a courtier to indulge were betrayed in the course of those altercations in which the character of Abigail is displayed in the worst colours. Artful and plausible, yet daring and insolent, according to circumstances—shameless in her ingratitude, the mean and despicabletool of others, with few advantages of education,—that abject but able woman acquired an ascendency over the mind of Anne that was truly astonishing.
The poor Queen is to be pitied—we dare not say despised—for her subserviency, her little artifices, her manœuvres in closets and the back stairs, her degrading connivance at duplicity, her thirst for flattery, or for what she termed friendship. Her confidence and affection, thus extended towards an unworthy object, henceforth weakened rather than adorned her character.
It is remarkable, that when she learned to dispense with the friendship of the Marlborough family, the Queen ceased to be great abroad and respected at home.