The Queen, notwithstanding sundry complimentary matters from her Majesty to the Commons, and from the Commons to her Majesty, was yet unable to accomplish her point. Her justly-prized general and his favoured wife were fruitlessly indignant, at what they considered almost as a desertion of their interests, by their ministerial friends. They, on the other hand, attributed the Duke’s efforts to have the grant of five thousand a year made perpetual, to that fondness for money with which this great man has been repeatedly, and, perhaps, not undeservedly, reproached.[[445]] Sir Christopher Musgrave remarked, “that he disputed not the merit of the Duke of Marlborough’s services; but that it must be acknowledged they were well paid;” and the profitable employments which had been already bestowed upon different members of his family were brought into array against his demands.
Whilst these objections to the Duke’s claims were boldly advanced in the House of Commons, the public, without the doors of that august assembly, were lavish of satirical remarks, which stung the Duke and Duchess, and even the Queen herself, to the very quick. Amongst other satires that were circulated, a lampoon was handed about, importing that the Queen intended to give one Duke (Marlborough) all the gold which another Duke (Ormond) had brought from Vigo.[[446]]
Wounded and incensed by these remarks, the Duke entreated the Queen to recal her message, lest he should be the cause of obstructing the public business.[[447]] The Queen complied with this request; but, on the very day when the Commons presented their remonstrance, generously intimated her intention to the Duchess of Marlborough, of adding to the annuity of five thousand pounds, two thousand pounds out of the privy purse. This kind and prompt mark of affection was thus announced:
“I cannot be satisfied with myself without doing something towards making up what has been so maliciously hindered in the Parliament; and therefore I desire my dear Mrs. Freeman and Mr. Freeman would be so kind as to accept of two thousand pounds a year out of the privy purse, beside the grant of the five. This can draw no envy, for nobody need know it. Not that I would disown what I give to people that deserve, especially where it is impossible to reward the deserts; but you may keep it as a secret or not, as you please. I beg my dear Mrs. Freeman would never any way give me an answer to this; only comply with the desires of your poor, unfortunate, faithful Morley, that loves you most tenderly, and is, with the sincerest passion imaginable, yours.”[[448]]
The proffered bounty was, with a feeling of honour, lofty and praiseworthy, declined. So disinterested a refusal might be considered as setting aside the charge of covetousness against Marlborough, and the imputed, grasping conduct of his wife. But, unhappily for those who would wish to exalt human nature, years afterwards, when the Duchess was out of favour, she had the meanness, by her own acknowledgment, to claim the two thousand pounds a year thus offered, and thus, at the same time, refused; and to press her claim by sending the Queen one of her own letters, in which she enforced the Duchess’s acceptance of the grant; and to demand that her Majesty should allow her to charge the sum, with arrears, from the time of the offer, in the privy purse accounts. The Queen, though alienated from her favourite, was generous enough to agree to her proposal—the Duchess mean enough to receive the money.[[449]] The original refusal, therefore, we cannot but suppose, proceeded from the just, though not liberal Marlborough, who disdained to accept, from the Queen’s private bounty, a grant which the assembly of the nation had refused. Thus was the affair settled; but Marlborough never forgave the Tories their opposition to his claims. In offering to the Parliament his hearty thanks for their approbation of his services, he made this speech:—“He was overjoyed,” he said, “that the House thought he had done service to the public; but that he would hereafter endeavour, as it had always been his wish, that he might be more indebted to his country, than his country to him.”[[450]]
The subsequent rupture between Marlborough and the Tories originated on this occasion. The Duke was indignant, it is said, at being placed merely on a footing with Sir George Rooke, and the Duke of Ormond, who received the thanks of the Houses at the same time with his grace. He was also wounded, and not without reason, at the apparent disposition to undervalue his services which his friends manifested. These sentiments were shared, to their fullest extent, and exasperated with every womanly invective, by her who had continually regretted the early partiality of the Duke to a party whom she abhorred. But it was not long before, in the course of events, the Duchess perceived that her direst foes were not those who openly and vehemently opposed her ambitious views.
Amid the clamours of Whigs and Tories, and during the storm of their hostilities, a middle or moderate party gradually and silently arose, and, fostered by circumstances, attained a powerful ascendency. These “trimmers,” as they were contemptuously called, gained accession to their numbers, amongst those who, like the Duke of Marlborough, beheld with regret the extravagances into which both factions were betrayed, in their avidity for preferment.
Robert Harley, afterwards Earl of Oxford, was the leader of this new and powerful schism from the Tory school of politics,—which he appeared, in a great degree, to have latterly deserted.
The political career of this being of ephemeral influence was, indeed, one of artifice. “His humour,” says Lord Cowper, “was never to deal clearly, nor openly, but always with reserve, if not dissimulation, or rather simulation, and to love tricks, even, where not necessary, but from an inward satisfaction he took in applauding his own cunning. If any man was ever under the necessity of being a knave, he was.”[[451]]
The great instrument of the proud Sarah’s fall, Harley, was well understood by his foe, even whilst, yet, he flattered her weaknesses, and temporized with the party whom she espoused. To a plain, familiar, unoffending manner, great application and extensive reading, Harley united an aspiring genius, and, as the Duchess remarks, as much knowledge as any one living, “of the secret of managing the corruptions of human nature.”[[452]] Educated among dissenters, his moderation, and the support which he gave to the succession of the house of Hanover, had conciliated the Whigs, whose cause he now pretended, with various reservations, to advocate. His election to the office of Speaker had been, nevertheless, regarded by the Tories as a triumph, although it had been carried almost by unanimous consent. Yet, by dexterous management, Harley contrived, when the high church party became overbearing and obnoxious, to erect in himself that resource, of which the Queen afterwards availed herself, to balance parties. Extolled by Swift “for venturing to restore the forgotten custom of treating his prince with respect,” Harley was suspected of some deep design by others, when, at his own table, he expatiated with admiration upon the manner of the late King’s death, which he compared to that of the ancient heroes, as if it had been above “the mere condition of mortal men.”[[453]] Yet, in public, he still espoused the interests of the Tories, flattering the Whigs, nevertheless, with assurances that he was satisfied that neither King William, nor his ministers, had any design but for the public good, and condoling with them upon the persecution that they had of late years encountered from the clamours of the adverse party. Thus a foundation was laid for that future eminence which Harley, to the downfall of Marlborough and his lady, enjoyed, but with short duration.[[454]]