Between the Countess of Sunderland and Lady Marlborough there existed a friendship of an enthusiastic, almost a romantic character. This affectionate intimacy was accounted for by mutual obligations and common misfortunes, shared by the two great statesmen, the husbands of these two ladies.

After the revolution, Marlborough had exerted his influence to assist Sunderland in exile and distress. When Marlborough fell into disgrace, Lord Sunderland had pleaded his cause, and adhered to him with a grateful constancy; advocating with the King the expediency of placing Marlborough in the office of preceptor to the young Duke of Gloucester. The warm attachment between the two Countesses sometimes aroused even the jealousy of the Princess Anne, who considered Lady Sunderland as her rival in the affection of the spoiled and flattered Lady Marlborough,[[321]] and envied the terms of equality which rendered the friendship of the two Countesses a source of mutual happiness. Not devoid of romance in her early years, though in her latter days she degenerated into coarseness of mind and vulgarity of manners, Anne felt, it seems, the insuperable barrier which her exalted rank had placed between her and the delights of a true, disinterested friendship.

Charles Lord Spencer, the only son of the Earl and Countess of Sunderland, reported to have been famed alike for “his skill in negociations and his rapid equestrian movements,”[[322]] was the object to whom the ambition of his parents now pointed, as a probable bond of union between their family and the powerful houses of Marlborough and Godolphin. The lovely Lady Anne was god-daughter to the Countess of Sunderland. Her beauty, her accomplishments, and the favour which she already enjoyed with the Princess Anne, were all cogent reasons for promoting the match, in the eyes of the veteran courtier and statesman, Sunderland. The first proposals in the affair seem to have originated on his side. In one of the letters written on the subject he says:[[323]]

“If I see him so settled, I shall desire nothing more in this world but to die in peace, if it please God. I must add this, that if he can be thus happy, he will be governed in everything, public and private, by Lord Marlborough. I have particularly talked to him of that, and he is sensible how advantageous it will be to him to do so. I need not, I am sure, desire that this may be a secret to every one but Lady Marlborough.”

Notwithstanding their friendship for the family of the Earl, the suggestion of a closer bond was not at first received by Lord and Lady Marlborough with encouragement. Perhaps they might regard the betrothing of their favourite daughter to Lord Spencer somewhat in the light of a sacrifice. That young nobleman had displayed a character of mind both uncommon and repulsive: grave, cold, and staid in his deportment, an ardent, impetuous, and somewhat haughty spirit was concealed beneath that icy exterior.[[324]] His political principles were those of republicanism; his notions of filial duty were tinctured by the actions of his school-boy studies. Already had he anathematised his father in the House of Commons, with all the powers of a ready eloquence, and declared against the crafty Earl for protecting traitors, and for permitting his mother to harbour her own daughter, the wife of the attainted Lord Clancarty. For this act of Roman heroism, Lord Spencer had been extolled by the violent party, and his loyalty to the King eulogised; since, to serve his Majesty, he would not scruple to expose his father. But cautious observers had questioned this unnatural display, which was supposed to be concerted between the young lord and his father; and Lord Spencer had lost some friends from the supposition.[[325]]

The detestation which Lord Spencer expressed for his father’s opinions, and especially for those which he had adopted on his conversion to the Church of Rome, was, however, sincere. On the death of Lord Sunderland, he took care to manifest his unseemly disrespect, by casting out of the library which his father had collected, all the works of the holy fathers, or, as he called them, “dregs of antiquity,” which he considered well replaced by the works of Machiavel.[[326]] This self-opiniativeness characterised his whole career. Though professing himself a devoted adherent of Lord Somers, Lord Spencer had neither the moderation nor the true patriotism of that great and good man.[[327]] He carried all his notions to extremes; mistook violence and recklessness for zeal, and bluntness for sincerity; and his private deportment was ill calculated to obliterate the unfavourable impression which his public career had imparted.

To this dark picture we must add, however, before we consider the portrait of Lord Sunderland to be complete, some, though few, enlivening touches. Eager for distinction, or at least for notoriety, this nobleman was, nevertheless, exempt from the mercenary motives by which many public men were debased. His high spirit led him, though not rich for his station, to reject a pension offered him by Queen Anne, when, during her reign, he was left out of the administration. The same indifference to his pecuniary interests caused him to reject, with indignation, the attempts made by his mother-in-law to reinstate him in his employments, in the reign of George the First.[[328]] And when it is stated that he discarded the “holy fathers” from his library, after his father’s death, it must be added that he replaced them by numerous works of great value, forming a library of considerable extent, and selected with admirable judgment.

To this ungenial partner the young and lovely Anne was eventually consigned. At first, indeed, her parents made many objections to the marriage. The coldness and indifference of Lord Spencer to their daughter was the chief obstacle. He was now a widower, having recently lost, in the Lady Arabella Cavendish, a wife whom he idolised, and for whom he still mourned with all the depth of feeling, and tenacity of a man of strong passions, and reserved nature. His political violence was another impediment, in the opinion of the rightly-judging mind of the great Marlborough, who saw in the times nothing to justify, but everything to deprecate, temerity and factious heats. But the Countess of Marlborough, more disposed to Whig opinions, viewed that objection to Lord Spencer with far less anxiety than his coldness to her darling child, and the increased gloom of the young nobleman’s deportment and countenance. From those she augured little of happiness to a daughter for whom she evinced true maternal apprehensions, and who lived not to harass and aggravate her, when the once fascinating Countess, degenerated into “Old Marlborough,” had become captious and vindictive. High-minded, though faulty, Lady Marlborough dreaded that her daughter should be sacrificed to a man who loved her not, and who might be induced to marry whilst his affections were buried in the grave of another. The eagerness of Lord and Lady Sunderland for the promotion of the match—their remonstrances, the earnest solicitations, which they addressed to their son—all added to her apprehensions, and occasioned her to draw back somewhat from the first steps in her projected alliance.

By degrees, however, the grief of the gloomy young widower yielded to the loveliness and youthful graces of the Lady Anne. He began not only to tolerate, but to cherish, the idea of a second marriage. The growing attachment became ardent, as his other passions; and his mother, eagerly communicating the change in his feelings to her friend, urged Lady Marlborough to hasten an union now anxiously desired by her once reluctant son.

Lady Marlborough found some scruples, some objections on the part of her husband, still to overcome. But her influence was paramount. In spite of many forebodings, induced by the headstrong nature of Lord Spencer, he gave his consent; but his prognostications, that political differences between him and his future son-in-law would ere long arise, were unhappily justified.