The Duchess of Marlborough’s friends and contemporaries—Arthur Maynwaring—Dr. Hare—Sir Samuel Garth—Pope—Lady Mary Wortley Montague—Colley Cibber—Anecdote of Mrs. Oldfield; of Sir Richard Steele.
There must have been, undoubtedly, some attaching, as well as admirable qualities in the Duchess of Marlborough, when we consider the number and quality of those friends whom she found it possible to retain until their death; for most of them she survived.
The Duchess’s earliest political friend, Lord Godolphin, was never, as far as we can learn, replaced in her confidence and regard by any man in power. Shortly before his lordship’s death, she had the misfortune to lose another intimate though humbler friend, her accomplished correspondent, Arthur Maynwaring.
Mr. Maynwaring, like the Duke and Duchess themselves, had set out in life a zealous Jacobite. Early in life he had even exercised his pen in favour of King James’s government; and it was only after becoming acquainted with the chiefs of the Whig party, that he wholly changed his opinions. After mingling for some years in the literary society of Paris, Maynwaring, returning to London, was made one of the commissioners of Customs, and afterwards, by Lord Godolphin, appointed auditor of the Imprests, a place worth two thousand pounds per annum during a pressure of business. Thus provided for, Mr. Maynwaring became the firm and confidential friend of the Duke and Duchess, and of Godolphin; and his judicious advice was often resorted to by his illustrious friends. In return for his zeal and friendship, those by whom he was so much valued, sought to turn him from a disgraceful and unfortunate connexion, into which Maynwaring’s literary and dramatic tastes had involved him. This was a connexion with the celebrated Mrs. Oldfield, to whom he became attached when he was upwards of forty, and whom he loved, says his biographer, “with a passion that could not have been stronger, had it been both his and her first love.” This gifted actress owed much of her celebrity to the instructions of Maynwaring, who wrote several epilogues and prologues for her benefits, hearing her recite them in private. By his friends, Maynwaring was so much blamed for his connexion, that Mrs. Oldfield herself, frequently but ineffectually, represented to him that it would be advantageous for his interests to break it off; but for this disinterestedness Maynwaring loved her the more. He died very suddenly, from taking cold whilst walking in the gardens of Holywell-house, in 1712. He divided his personal property, and an estate which came from a long line of ancestry, between Mrs. Oldfield and his sister. For this he was greatly blamed by the “Examiner,” but vindicated in a paper supposed to be written by his friend Robert Walpole, afterwards the great minister.
Maynwaring was a man of considerable attainments. His style of writing was praised even by the “Examiner;” his memory is preserved by Steele’s dedication of the “Tatler” to him. He was honoured by the entire confidence of the Duchess of Marlborough, and he accorded to her his warmest admiration of her talents, and a partial appreciation of her motives. And he proved himself to be, what she most liked, a sincere friend, not an indiscriminate panegyrist. He told her grace freely what he thought; strove to moderate her resentments; and, whilst he lived, contributed to maintain a good understanding between her and the Queen, by seeking to mollify the hasty judgments of the often irritated Mrs. Freeman.
Possessing an intimate knowledge of the dispositions of all the actors in that busy scene, Mr. Maynwaring, nevertheless, foresaw that the reign of Queen Sarah, as it was called, would not be of long duration. With the sincerity of a true friend, he strove to warn her of this probable issue of the “passion,” as he justly called it, with which the Queen regarded her spoiled friend.[[352]] He appreciated her Majesty justly, when he hinted that she had not “a very extraordinary understanding,” and that she would, in all probability, eventually prefer the servant who flattered and deceived her, to the one “who told truth, and endeavoured to do good, and to serve right.” Sometimes his sincerity displeased the Duchess; and, according to the fashion of most of her grace’s correspondents, we find him writing to justify his “poor opinion,” which had, he feared, been too hastily expressed. If he wrote from the heart, Maynwaring was, nevertheless, a true admirer of the Duchess’s good qualities. He constantly expressed his conviction of the openness and truth of her disposition. Of cunning, or that part of craft which, says Maynwaring, “Mr. Hobbes very prettily calls crooked wisdom,” he declares her to be entirely exempt. And the advice which he was at times eager to press upon her grace, to conceal her discontent, and to return to court “with the best air that she could,” proved that in this view of her character Maynwaring was sincere.[[353]] He died at a critical moment, and in him the Duchess lost one of those assiduous and attached adherents, whom it is sometimes the fate of impetuous, but generous characters, to secure as personal friends.
Amongst her advisers and correspondents, Dr. Hare, Bishop of Chichester, performed a grave and conspicuous part. It was his office, seriously though kindly, to admonish her grace; to point out to her the inexpediency of indulging violent passions, upon higher grounds than those defined by her indulgent, and, in some cases, too lenient husband, or by her partial friends Lord Godolphin and Mr. Maynwaring. Yet Dr. Hare, if we may believe the slanderous pen of one of the party writers of the day, was not, in his conduct or opinions, free from a degree of laxity which bordered upon heterodoxy. Having been tutor to the Marquis of Blandford, the deceased and only son of the Duchess, he had acquired a peculiar interest in the regard of those chastened and bereaved parents. By their aid, chiefly, he had obtained, first, the appointment of chaplain-general to the army, and afterwards the deanery of Worcester and bishopric of Chichester. To Dr. Hare’s conversation, the free and decided opinions of the Duchess upon matters connected with the church, and upon some religious subjects, may, in all probability, be traced. Like herself, the bishop was even accused of scepticism, a charge so monstrous as not for an instant to be entertained in either case. He held, however, opinions of a very questionable nature; and in a work which he published upon “The Difficulties and Discouragements which attend the Study of the Scriptures in the way of Private Judgment,” his style appeared to the convocation so irreverent and absurd, that he thought it best to attempt to conceal his being the author. He translated the Book of Psalms into the original Hebrew metre, which he pretended to have discovered; and employed much of his time in the Bangorian controversy with Dr. Hoadly, another intimate friend of the Duchess of Marlborough. Upon the accession of George the First, the bishop had the mortification of being dismissed from his chaplaincy to that monarch, on account of his irregular and obnoxious opinions.[[354]]
That the Duchess should entertain peculiar feelings towards this singular man, feelings which led her to receive meekly from him counsels which few others would have presumed to offer, is not a matter of surprise. Those who have lost a tenderly beloved child, know with what an enduring regard even the lowest menials who have shared our offices of affection, and hours of affliction, are naturally considered; how much more must the instructor who formed the mind of a promising son, be endeared to the parents from whom it had pleased the Creator to summon away those early budding virtues, the combination of mental and corporeal superiority! The Duchess, it appears, was so much affected upon her first interview with Dr. Hare, after the death of her son, that he thought it necessary to write an apology to her grace for his too early intrusion into her presence.[[355]] Eventually the Duchess appears to have derived considerable comfort from the frequent correspondence of Dr. Hare, who accompanied the Duke of Marlborough in several of his campaigns.
After the decease of his distinguished patron, Dr. Hare performed an important and friendly duty to the widowed Duchess. He gave her sincere and disinterested counsels; and in so doing evinced his gratitude to the memory of one who loved, with all her faults, the irascible and discontented woman whom he had left to buffet with storms of her own creation. Not all her possessions, nor her rank, nor the acknowledged purity of her conduct in an immoral age, nor even the influence of her husband’s great name, could procure the Duchess mental repose, nor ensure to her good-will. She lived, to imitate her own military simile, in constant hostilities. Nor was the garrison of her home faithful and friendly. Mutinies broke out, conspiracies were hourly framed against her dominion, and foreign auxiliaries called in to quell her power and abate her pride. Dr. Hare alone, of her surviving friends, as far as her published correspondence enables us to judge, found courage to point out to his warlike friend, that the sources of these skirmishes existed in her own “ill-grounded suspicions and violent passions.” With what candour and right-minded gratitude the Duchess received these admonitions, has already been remarked.
Another friend, whom the Duchess of Marlborough survived, was the amiable Doctor Garth, author of the “Dispensary,” and the intimate associate and physician of the Duke. Garth had the good fortune to retain his popularity at court, and to be appointed the King’s physician, when the Duke and Duchess were regarded with coldness. Yet a signal compliment, it was thought, was paid to this humane and accomplished man, when George the First knighted him with the Duke of Marlborough’s sword. Dr. Garth was of decided Whig opinions, as were most of the Duchess’s associates; and he was of suspected scepticism, as were also many of those in whom she placed confidence. It was, however, so prevalent an imputation in those days, that few eminent men escaped the charge. It must also be allowed, that it was a species of fashionable affectation, for affectation it most probably was, to express, for the poor credit of belonging to a certain philosophical order, a degree of doubt concerning the great truths upon which every hope of human nature depends. Sir Samuel Garth was, says Pope, “a good Christian without knowing himself to be so.” It is to be regretted that he did not know it, for he has bequeathed to the members of his profession the imputation to which, at all events, he thoughtlessly contributed, of being averse to the religious belief of our church, as they are often obliged to be aliens to its observances. This charge, notoriously unjust in the present day, was not, however, fairly urged against Dr. Garth, who died, according to the somewhat partial evidence of Pope, in the communion of the Roman Catholic church.