As far as the young Queen was concerned, the auspicious beginning with regard to Anne was justified. She always remained on friendly terms with her sister-in-law. Her yielding, placable nature deferred readily to one whose qualities provided the complement of her own, and later events knitted a closer bond of union between them.
Meanwhile the Duke and Duchess of York took up their quarters in St James’s Palace, the traditional residence of the heir presumptive—the ancient manor of Henry VIII.—of whose building little remains now but the brick gate-way.[[167]] It seems to have been furnished with great splendour, and under Anne’s resolute sway her Court was more stately and ceremonious than that at Whitehall, where the motto might have been that of Medmenham in later days: “Fais ce que voudras.” In an idle age, moreover, the Duchess was not idle. “She writ well,” says Burnet, “and had begun the Duke’s life, of which she showed me a volume. It was all drawn from his journal, and he intended to have employed me in carrying it on.”[[168]]
[167]. “Old and New London.” Thornbury.
[168]. Burnet’s “History of My Own Time,” ed. 1766. “She writ very correctly” (Appendix).
It was on account of this piece of literary work that Horace Walpole gave the writer a place in his catalogue of noble authors, although, it is true, he never saw the work in question. Anne also took a more or less intelligent interest in the art of her time and country, for it was she who projected the Series of Beauties to be painted by Lely, whose genius was employed for many years of this reign.[[169]] She could at least appreciate beauty in others, if she had but little herself, and for this scheme we certainly owe her a debt of gratitude.
[169]. “Some Beauties of the Seventeenth Century.” Allan Fea.
The Christmas after the King’s marriage was marked by more than the usual festivities. Secretary Pepys, always on the watch to see and retail all that was to be seen, went eagerly to watch the royal party dancing at Whitehall. The Queen, it seems, did not dance, but the King, who “danced rarely,” took out the Duchess of York, and the Duke the Duchess of Buckingham, to dance the bransle, where hands were taken in turn. After this the King led a lady through a lively coranto, in which dance it appears he excelled; and another of the best performers was the little Duchess of Monmouth, Anne Scott, the greatest heiress of her day, who in her childhood had been given to the unlucky pretender who was to suffer so grim a fate in after days.
But happy and triumphant as one may picture her, the personal troubles of the Duchess had already begun. In the autumn just past there occurred the Duke’s ephemeral passion for Elizabeth Butler, Lady Chesterfield, the daughter of Ormonde, who on her part by no means reciprocated it, but to put an end to the situation, which she probably found embarrassing, promptly retired into the country from London.[[170]]
[170]. “James II. and his Wives.” Allan Fea.
“January 19, 1663.—This day by Dr Clarke I was told the occasion of my Lord Chesterfield’s going and taking his lady (my Lord Ormond’s daughter) from Court. It seems he not only hath been long jealous of the Duke of York, but did find them two talking together, though there were others in the room, and the lady by all opinions a most good, virtuous woman. He the next day (of which the Duke was warned by somebody that saw the passion my Lord Chesterfield was in the night before) went and told the Duke how much he did apprehend himself wronged in his picking out his lady of the whole Court to be the subject of his dishonour, which the Duke did answer with great calmness not seeming to understand the reason of complaint; and that was all that passed, but my Lord did presently pack his lady into the country in Derbyshire near the Peake” (Samuel Pepys’ “Diary”).