CHAPTER V.
State of the British Court—Character of William.
The English court now presented a strange and gloomy contrast to those seasons of reckless dissipation which had characterised it in the two preceding reigns.
The personal character of the monarch, his weak health and retired habits, had considerable influence in producing this change. William appeared, indeed, almost of a different species to the well-bred and easy-tempered Charles the Second, and to the affable though stately James. Both these monarchs were remarkable for the happy grace with which they bestowed favours;[[152]] William, as even his warmest panegyrist allows, generally “with a disgusting dryness, which was his character at all times, except in a day of battle, for then he was all fire, though without passion; he was then everywhere, and looked to everything.”[[153]] His “Roman eagle nose,” and sparkling eyes, ill corresponding with a weak and emaciated body, gave expression to a countenance otherwise disfigured by small-pox, the effects of which, added to a constitutional asthma, produced in him a deep and constant cough, the surest obstacle to conversation.
Without considering this impediment as having a continual influence over his deportment, King William was one of those cynical personages who adhere to silence as a type of wisdom, and despise the talkative; and who, having seen some mischiefs arise from too great fluency of speech, take refuge from indiscretion in cautious taciturnity. Like most of those who defeat the purpose of society, in thus fencing themselves from animadversion, the King was extremely prone to make severe remarks and hypercritical comments upon others. His very senses, according to Burnet, were provokingly “critical and exquisite.” Devoid of imagination, which would have stood in the way of his unnatural philosophy, he was an exact observer of men and manners. Nothing escaped his piercing eye, nor was forgotten by a mind endowed with a most extraordinary memory, which never failed him.[[154]] Like most reserved, phlegmatic men, he imbibed strong and lasting prejudices; and whilst he did not stoop to revenge, he was unable to shake off unfavourable impressions of others, whether founded or unfounded. When to these qualities we add the facts that he could not bear contradiction, his temper being so peevish to a degree, that he could not bring himself to love the English, and that he preferred the retirement of the closet to the brilliancy of the ball-room or banquet, it might be easily foretold, that with good intentions, possessed of sincerity, of religious belief, and of valour, William and his court would become eminently distasteful to the English people.
The Queen endeavoured to the utmost of her power to dissipate the disgust which she could not but perceive to exist in the public mind, since the court was, in great measure, deserted. But as she interfered not in public concerns, and as there was, on that account, little to be gained from her influence, her vivacity, and the redundancy of her conversation, (in which she delighted,) did not attract the gay and the interested, and her efforts were fruitless.
A few days after his accession, William, notwithstanding the advice of his friends, took refuge from that society which he so much despised and disliked, in the retirement of Hampton Court, which he left only to attend the Privy council on stated days; and the people soon found, to their infinite discontent, that it was the design of the sovereign to add to this old and irregular building new tenements, upon an expensive and magnificent scale, for his own and for the Queen’s apartments. Thus retired from the gaze of his metropolitan subjects, the King did little to conciliate their affections, as far as the cultivation of those arts extended, which his predecessors had patronised. For his introduction of the Dutch style of gardening into England, the nation has little cause to be grateful. Yet gardening was the only art which seemed to afford him any satisfaction.
In this stately edifice, the proud monument of a subject’s wealth, and of a monarch’s munificent taste, Lady Marlborough, in her attendance upon the Princess Anne, must have passed a considerable portion of her time.
It was not long before misunderstandings began to disturb the serenity of that constant intercourse which at first subsisted between the two sisters. On the first arrival of Queen Mary, the Princess, as Lady Marlborough relates, “went to see her, and there was great appearance of kindness between them. But this,” adds the Duchess, “quickly wore off, and a visible coldness ensued; which I believe was partly occasioned by the persuasion the King had, that the Prince and Princess had been of more use to him than they were ever likely to be again, and partly by the different characters and different humours of the two sisters. It was, indeed, impossible they should be very agreeable companions to each other; for Queen Mary grew weary of any body who would not talk a great deal, and the Princess was so silent that she rarely spoke more than was necessary to answer a question.”[[155]] It was, however, apparent that the subsequent alienation of the sisters had a deeper foundation than mere difference of taste, or discrepancy of habits, which might naturally be looked for between two sisters separated so early, and passing the season of their youth in scenes widely different, and with characters totally dissimilar. That Mary had received some impressions prejudicial to the friend and counsellor of her sister, previous to her accession, is manifest from the following justification of her favourite, which the Princess had thought necessary, in the preceding year, to write to her sister.
“Cockpit, Dec. 29, 1687.
“... Sorry people have taken such pains to give so ill a character of Lady Churchill.... I believe there is nobody in the world has better notions of religion than she has. It is true, she is not so strict as some are, nor does not keep such a bustle with religion; which I confess I think is never the worse; for one sees so many saints mere devils, that if one be a good Christian, the less show one makes, it is the better, in my opinion. Then, as for moral principles, it is impossible to have better; and, without that, all the lifting up of hands and eyes, and going often to church, will prove but a very lame devotion. One thing more I must say for her, which is, that she has a true sense of the doctrine of our church, and abhors all the principles of the church of Rome; so that, as to this particular, I assure you she will never change. The same thing I will venture, now I am on this subject, to say for her lord; for though he is a very faithful servant to the King, and that King is very kind to him, and I believe he will always obey the King in all things that are consistent with religion; yet, rather than change that, I dare say he will lose all his places, and all that he has.”[[156]]
This prepossession against the Countess of Marlborough may have originated only in her known and determined spirit; but it was doubtless aggravated by the relationship and correspondence of the Countess with her sister, now Lady Tyrconnel, the warm and busy partisan of the exiled monarch, of whom her husband, Lord Tyrconnel, was an active and influential adherent. The Queen seems to have adroitly thrown her objections to Lady Marlborough into the form of scruples concerning her religious opinions, hoping that Anne’s strict notions upon those points might be offended by her favourite’s carelessness upon matters of form, then of absolute importance in the tottering state of our national church, and at all times aids and props to devotional exercises, of the greatest assistance to habitual piety. But the insinuations of Mary, in whatever terms they may have been couched, only served to strengthen friendship which a species of adversity still rendered essential to the Princess Anne.
The Countess, however, was retained in her post about the Princess, “a situation seemingly of little consequence,” observes Dalrymple, “but which, for that very reason, her pride and spirit of intrigue determined her to convert into a great one.”[[157]]
Like all busy, violent women, especially if their ardent dispositions have a bias to politics, Lady Marlborough seems to have been peculiarly obnoxious to the other sex. There is not an historian who praises her without some reservation; and the majority of those who touch upon the notorious influence which she exercised, mingle admiration for her talents with marked dislike to her personal qualities. Yet, amid the conflicting interests by which even the placid Anne was harassed, Lady Marlborough proved a firm, zealous, and judicious friend, regardless of her own advancement in court favour, and of her husband’s military aggrandisement, for which a weaker mind would have trembled, ere it had boldly ventured upon interference in political intrigues.
The first cause of discord between the Queen and the Princess of Denmark was upon a subject of domestic convenience. Upon such themes the spirit of Lady Churchill was peculiarly excitable. In order to understand precisely the nature and merits of a quarrel and a dispute which would have been summarily, and perhaps peaceably settled, had men, instead of women, been immediately concerned in adjusting it, it is necessary to explain the sort of residence which Anne, in common with other brandies of the royal family, was obliged at that time to adopt.
It has already been stated that the Princess Anne resided at the Cockpit, Westminster, in apartments which were allowed to her at the time of her marriage, by her uncle, Charles the Second. Concerning these well-situated accommodations, a perpetual irritation, a continual negociating, intriguing, and consequent ill-will, seems to have been excited. Some description of the localities, and of the advantages which Anne derived from the appropriation of the Cockpit to her use—advantages which sorely vexed her royal sister—may not, therefore, be deemed impertinent.
The ancient Palace of Whitehall, situated beyond Scotland Yard, and on the same side of the street, was obtained by Henry the Eighth, from Wolsey, in 1529, and, until consumed by fire in 1697, was the residence of several of our monarchs, who found their account in thus living in the centre of the metropolitan world, and at the same time in a healthy and airy situation.
In very few years after Henry the Eighth had obtained possession of Whitehall, he procured, in addition to its immediate precincts, the inclosure of the St. James’s Park, which he received from the Abbot and Convent of Westminster in exchange for other property, and appropriated to the improvement of the noble structure of Whitehall Palace. One portion of the inclosure he converted into a park, another into a tennis-court, a third into a bowling-alley, and a fourth into a cockpit.
The Cockpit was situated near to what is now called Downing-street; and was the only access from Charing Cross to St. James’s Park, and the buildings beyond. Henry, for the accommodation of passengers, erected two gates, one of which opened from the Cockpit into King-street, Westminster, on the north, and the other into Charing Cross. The former of these was known by the name of Westminster Gate, and the other by the name of Cockpit Gate. Both were eminently beautiful; and before the year 1708, that of the Cockpit was still remaining, and added considerable dignity to the entrance into Anne’s courtyard, being adorned with four lofty towers, battlements, portcullises, and richly decorated.[[158]] Westminster Gate had no less a reputation than its neighbour, and is said to have been erected upon a design of Hans Holbein.
Successive innovations in different reigns had, however, long before the Princess of Denmark honoured the Cockpit with her residence, annihilated its uses and original splendour. Apartments had been built over the space, where Henry, with his coarse taste, delighted, in the truly national and disgraceful sport. The Palace of Whitehall, including the Cockpit, was one vast range of apartments and offices, extending to the river. There was even a gallery for statues, accessible to young artists, and rooms to the number of seventy were remaining until lately.[[159]] The rooms were lent, or given, or let, to different persons who rejoiced in royal favour; and the same tenement, if one so vast and of such a character could be so considered, contained Charles the Second, his court, his queen, the haughty Castlemaine, and the beautiful, dangerous, and devoted Louise de la Querouaille.
The rooms at the Cockpit appear, however, to have been in some respects inconvenient to the Princess of Denmark. Their situation, when all between them and the village of Charyng was an open space, when Westminster Abbey rose uninterrupted to the view, and when St. James’s Park, peopled with birds, was daily the scene of all that London could boast of aristocratic splendour, must indeed have been at once gay and commanding. Yet, notwithstanding these advantages, the Princess desired, for certain reasons, to exchange her apartments for others; and she encountered, in that desire, an unkind, and, as it appears, an unnecessary opposition from Mary.
The Duchess of Marlborough thus explains the affair; and as other historians have not thought it worth their notice, we must consider her account of it to be conclusive.
“The Princess, soon after the King’s coming to Whitehall, had a mind to leave her lodgings, (the way from which to the Queen’s apartment was very inconvenient,) and to go to those that had been the Duchess of Portsmouth’s, which the King on her request told her she should have. But the Princess requesting also (for the conveniency of her servants) some other lodgings that lay nearest to those of the Duchess, this matter met with difficulty, though her Highness, in exchange for all she asked, was to give the whole Cockpit (which was more than an equivalent) to be disposed of for the King’s use. For the Duke of Devonshire took it into his head, that could he have the Duchess of Portsmouth’s lodgings, where there was a fine room for balls, it would give him a very magnificent air. And it was very plain that while this matter was in debate between the King, the Queen, and Princess, my Lord Devonshire’s chief business was to raise so many difficulties in making the Princess easy in those lodgings, as at last to gain his point. After many conversations upon the affair, the Queen told the Princess ‘that she could not let her have the lodgings she desired for her servants, till my Lord Devonshire had resolved whether he would have them, or a part of the Cockpit.’ Upon which the Princess answered, ‘she would then stay where she was, for she would not have my Lord Devonshire’s leavings.’ So she took the Duchess of Portsmouth’s apartment, granted her at first, and used it for her children, remaining herself at the Cockpit. Much about the same time, the Princess, who had a fondness for the house at Richmond, (where she had lived when a child,) and who, besides, thought the air good for the children, desired that house of the Queen; but that likewise was refused her, though for many years no use had been made of it, but for Madame Possaire, a sister of my Lady Orkney’s and Mr. Hill.”[[160]]
Notwithstanding these manifestations of a petty and somewhat tyrannical ill-nature on the part of Mary, the Princess, who was propriety itself, “continued,” says the Duchess, “to pay all imaginable respect to the King and Queen.” But no humble endeavours on the part of Anne could avail to soothe the irritations of her sister and brother-in law, whilst they perceived that, bred up amongst the people, she was dear to their subjects, and that on important occasions her interests became their cause; and a jealousy, aggravated in its bitterness by the well-known disposition of Anne to befriend her brother, and by her equally certain repentance for her conduct to her father, became a permanent sentiment in the mind of Mary.
It was reasonable in the Princess to expect that having given up her right in the succession, the King and Queen should study to promote her comfort in all essential respects. Her father, at her marriage, had settled upon her a suitable annuity of thirty thousand pounds; and now that a fresh arrangement was to be made, Anne expected that a permanent and independent revenue would be secured to her.
This was in the King’s power, the civil list amounting to no less a sum than six hundred thousand pounds a year. But William had no intention of making the Princess independent, if he could possibly avoid such a step; his policy was to keep her in subjection to himself and to her sister, in order, if possible, to insure her fidelity in times when no one around him was exactly to be trusted, and when he was obliged to pardon insincerity, and to be blind even to treachery.[[161]] The King even expressed some reluctance to continue to Anne the allowance which she had received,—a line of conduct which was viewed with just indignation by his sister-in-law, who had facilitated his Majesty’s accession to the throne by her compliance with his wishes, at the time of that revolution which had banished those whom she most loved from the crown.
Stimulated by a sense of this injustice, and prompted by the Countess of Marlborough, Anne resolved to appeal to Parliament, knowing that in that assembly the Tories and the disaffected would warmly support her claims, as the ready means of producing dissension at court, and of rendering William unpopular.[[162]]
Upon the report of Anne’s intentions being conveyed to the Queen, a scene truly singular, as occurring between two royal personages, both celebrated by historians for their moderation and discretion, took place in the heated atmosphere of that scene of faction, Kensington Palace.
The Queen sought an interview with her sister, for the purpose, and to use the Duchess of Marlborough’s expression, “one night taking her sister to task about it;” commencing her attack by asking her what was the meaning of those proceedings. To which the Princess, somewhat evasively, replied, “she heard that her friends had a mind to make her some settlement.”
The Queen, upon this reply, lost that command of herself for which she had hitherto been remarkable.
“And pray, madam,” she thus addressed the Princess, “what friends have you but the King and me?”
Anne felt the taunt deeply; and resented it with as much warmth as her nature could muster. The intimation of her dependence, conveyed in this speech, appears from the following remarks, penned by her friend and confidante, to have stung her severely. How characteristic of that sharp-sighted person is the sarcastic tone of the concluding remark!
“I had not the honour to attend the Princess that night, but when she came back, she repeated this to me. And, indeed, I never saw her express so much resentment as she did at this usage; and I think it must be allowed she had great reason, for it was unjust in her sister not to allow her a decent provision, without an entire dependence on the King. And, besides, the Princess had in a short time learnt that she must be very miserable, if she was to have no support but the friendship of the two persons her Majesty had mentioned.”[[163]]
In justification of the narrow principle adopted by William and his Queen on this occasion, Mr. Hampden, junior, spoke in the House of Commons, representing the impolicy of settling a revenue on a Princess who had so near a claim to the crown, and who might be supported by a number of malcontents. He adduced in favour of his argument the withdrawal of a motion for settling a separate allowance of a hundred thousand pounds a year upon the Queen;[[164]] but his arguments did not prevail, and the debate was adjourned to the next day. Some of the Princess’s friends, encouraged by the general feeling in her favour, even proposed to allow her seventy thousand pounds yearly;—and the King, annoyed at the course which the debate took, and fearful of its issue, prorogued parliament.
Whilst the subject was thus warmly discussed, the Queen, although conversing every day with her sister, observed a cautious silence on the subject of her settlement: and the most strenuous exertions were made, to prevail on the Countess of Marlborough to persuade the Princess to give up the point in dispute. The most intimate friend of the dauntless Sarah was the Viscountess Fitzharding, third sister of Edward Villiers, who was successively created, by William, Baron Villiers and Earl of Jersey.
The family of Lady Fitzharding, though of Jacobite tendencies, exercised over William a prodigious ascendency, through the influence of two of its members; the Earl of Jersey, who was himself in high favour with the King; and the Countess of Jersey, though a Catholic, was much esteemed by the Queen: whilst Elizabeth Villiers, sister of the Earl, was the acknowledged mistress of the monarch.[[165]] Partialities so unaccountable and incongruous are not surprising to the reader who has gone through the private history of courts and kings.
Through this channel Mary now sought to influence Lady Marlborough, the oracle to whom her sister Anne implicitly deferred. Every art was used, either “through flattery or fear,”[[166]] to dissuade the Princess from the pursuit of a settlement. The Duchess thus describes these ineffectual efforts:—
“My Lady Fitzharding, who was more than anybody in the Queen’s favour, and for whom it was well known I had a singular affection, was the person chiefly employed in this undertaking. Sometimes she attacked me on the side of my own interest, telling me, ‘that if I would not put an end to measures so disagreeable to the King and Queen, it would certainly be the ruin of my lord, and consequently of all our family.’ When she found that this had no effect, she endeavoured to alarm my fears for the Princess by saying, ‘that those measures would in all probability ruin her; for nobody, but such as flattered me, believed the Princess would carry her point, and in case she did not, the King would not think himself obliged to do anything for her. That it was perfect madness in me to persist, and I had better ten thousand times to let the thing fall, and to make all easy to the King and Queen.’”
Little could Lady Fitzharding understand the character of her gifted friend, when she attempted to dissuade her from any undertaking in which she had resolutely engaged. On the contrary, the Duchess, persisting the more strenuously in her determination the more it was opposed, with a true feminine spirit writes:
“All this, and a great deal more that was said, was so far from inclining me to do what was desired of me, that it only made me more anxious about the success of the Princess’s affair, and more earnest, if possible, in the prosecuting of it.” For, as she further declares, she would rather have died than have sacrificed the interests of the Princess, or have had it thought that she had herself been bribed or intimidated into compliance with the wishes of the court.
Lady Marlborough, therefore, employed all the powers which she possessed, to forward the settlement. She justly reflected, as the Princess’s friend, that anything was better than dependence upon William’s generosity, of which she had no opinion. For Lord Godolphin told her that the King, speaking of the civil list, “wondered very much how the Princess could spend thirty thousand pounds a year, although it was less,” adds the shrewd Duchess, “than some of his majesty’s favourites had.”[[167]]
Meantime King William and his Queen were perfectly aware, as it appears, with whom the resistance to their plans originated, and they took measures, accordingly, to appease and to satisfy her who already held “that good sort of woman,”[[168]] their royal sister, in a kind of subjection to her will and opinion. Accordingly, a few days before the question was put to the vote, a message was despatched to Lady Marlborough, offering, on the part of the King, to give the Princess fifty thousand pounds a year, if she would not appeal to parliament.
The person employed on this delicate embassy was Charles Talbot, Duke of Shrewsbury, whom the King had taken into his favour, although once a Catholic, and the godson of Charles the Second. This nobleman, according to William, “the only man of whom both Whigs and Tories spoke well,” was an enemy to those party distinctions by which even great and good men were betrayed into the violence of faction. Easy, graceful in his deportment, and accomplished, he was peculiarly adapted, from his charms of manner, and even of countenance, notwithstanding the loss of an eye,[[169]] to act the part of mediator between the irritating and the irritated, especially when of the gentler sex.
Empowered by William to use his own discretion in the mode of persuasion to be adopted, the Duke obtained an interview with Lady Marlborough. He unfolded the object of his mission, which he sought to strengthen.
The result of these negociations was favourable to Anne. She gained her point, and an income of fifty thousand pounds was settled on her by parliament. Some of the members persisted in proposing an allowance of seventy thousand pounds, but the Princess was advised by her friends to accept of the smaller sum, and not to combat the point any longer against the influence of the crown.
Notwithstanding this arrangement, the Countess thought it incumbent upon her not to allow the Princess to accept of the settlement without further advice. She sent, therefore, to ask the opinion of the Earl of Rochester, who was then “just creeping into court favour,”[[170]] by means of the interposition of Bishop Burnet, who recommended him to the Queen’s regard and forgiveness. For Rochester was one of those who had wished for a regency instead of a king, and who endeavoured to instil into his own party those notions of arbitrary government which he had imbibed in the reign of Charles the Second, under whom he had held several high ministerial appointments.
Lord Rochester, like all party men in his time, had his admirers and his censurers. Although considered a man of abilities, and although his private character was highly respectable, there were some points in his conduct of which an adversary might take advantage, to question this nobleman’s integrity.[[171]]
Having refused to turn Catholic, in King James’s time, the earl had received an annuity of four thousand a year, on his life and on that of his son, settled upon him as a compensation of the Lord Treasurer’s staff, which had been taken from him on that occasion. Lady Marlborough’s observation upon the opinion which this nobleman now delivered to her is therefore peculiarly pungent.
“Nevertheless,” she says, “I was so fearful lest the Princess should suffer for want of good advice, that after I had heard of the Commons voting 50,000l. a year, I sent to speak with my Lord Rochester, and asked his opinion whether the Princess ought to be satisfied, or whether it was reasonable she should try to get more. (I did not then know how much his heart was bent on making his court to the Queen.) His answer to me was, that he thought not only that the Princess ought to be satisfied with 50,000l., but that she ought to have taken it in any way the King pleased; which made me reflect that he would not have liked that advice in the case of his own 4000l. a year from the Post-Office, settled on him and his son.[[172]] But I was not,” she adds, “so uncivil as to speak my thought, nor so foolish as to struggle any longer. For most of those who had been prevailed with to promote the settlement were Tories, among whom my Lord Rochester was a very great man. Their zeal on the present occasion was doubtless to thwart King William, for I never observed that on any other they discovered much regard for the Princess of Denmark.”[[173]]
The success of the affair was justly attributable, as she affirms, not to any faction making the passive Princess the plea for a vexatious opposition to the court, but, as she forcibly expresses it, “to the steadiness and diligence of my Lord Marlborough and me; and to this it was imputed, both by those to whom the result was so exceedingly disagreeable, and by her to whose happiness it was then so necessary.”[[174]]
Anne was at this time deeply sensible of all that she owed to the firmness and zeal of these devoted servants. “She expressed her gratitude in a manner generous to a very high degree;” and from this time, until many years afterwards, the interests and the happiness of the Churchill family were the objects of her solicitude, and of a munificence certainly conferred with delicacy, and often rejected on their part with a spirit of independence and disinterestedness.