The Tories, on the other hand, supported the sovereign in her right to appoint church dignitaries, and were opposed to the so-called "Low Church" party. They were generally considered Jacobites, and would gladly have been such if the Prince of Wales had not been a Roman Catholic.
Now that we have shown the distinction between these two parties, any future reference to them will be clearly understood.
With Queen Anne fairly established on the throne, Lady Marlborough was at the very height of her glory, because she still retained unbounded influence over her majesty, and had a voice in every appointment. She even gave herself credit for many praiseworthy acts of the queen's, whether she deserved it or no. For example, she assured her friends that the command issued by the queen forbidding the sale of places in the royal household was really her own order, though it was probably no such thing. This was a French custom that had been introduced into England with the Restoration, whereby places were purchased of the former possessor without granting the sovereign any choice in the matter whatever. A man sold his position to the highest bidder, and felt not the slightest shame at pocketing the proceeds, nor was any privacy observed in the proceeding. It was a very injurious practice, and by no means insured good servants, so whether its abolition was due to the queen or Lady Marlborough, or both, it was certainly wise.
Shortly after Queen Anne's accession her husband, Prince George, was attacked with asthma, which had such a bad effect on him that change of air was recommended, and their majesties started on a tour through the west of England. Bristol was one of their stopping-places, and while there Prince George started out one morning, incognito, with an officer for companion, to view the sights. After walking about for an hour or so, the prince went on the Exchange, and remained there until all the merchants had left excepting one John Duddlestone, a corset-maker. This good man stood off and stared at the prince, and then hesitatingly approached, and with a shy, awkward manner, asked: "Are you, sir, the husband of our Queen Anne, as folks say you are?"
"Such is, indeed, the fact," replied the prince. "Then," continued John Duddlestone, "I have seen with great concern that none of the chief merchants on 'Change have invited your highness home; but it is not for want of love or loyalty: it is merely because they are afraid to presume to address so great a man. But I think that the shame to Bristol would be great indeed if the husband of her majesty the queen were obliged, for want of hospitality, to dine at an inn; I therefore beg your royal highness, humble though I am, to accompany me home to dinner and bring your soldier-officer along. I can offer your highness a good piece of roast beef, a plum-pudding, and some ale of my wife's own brewing, if that be good enough."
Prince George was charmed with this original style of invitation, and accepted it with gratitude, though his dinner had been ordered at the White Lion. Arriving at his house in Corn street, worthy John Duddlestone called up from the foot of the stairs, "Wife, wife! put on a clean apron and come down, for the queen's husband and a soldier-gentleman have come to dine with us."
Dame Duddlestone soon appeared in a clean, blue check apron, neat calico frock, and snowy cap, curtseying and smiling as she entered the room, her full face all aglow with the excitement occasioned by the honor of such visitors. Her table was soon arranged, and the prince did ample justice to the meal, well knowing that he could not
