Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [125]
Even when she wrote to the Queen her tactlessness was in every line. She could only write angrily and reproachfully. She attacked Abigail continuously, and Anne defended her.
“Your Majesty says this lady is the very reverse of what I take her to be. To which I can only answer that she is the very reverse of what I once took her to be, and I don’t at all doubt but when her master Harley has tutored her a little longer—if I do not die very soon—Your Majesty and I shall come to agree in our opinion of her.”
Sarah could not see that the way to win Anne back was not through attacking Abigail.
Then she accused the Queen of not being frank with her. She herself had always been of the frankest nature and had not Mrs. Morley always admired that quality in Mrs. Freeman?
But this was more than a break between the Queen and the Duchess. The Court watched with interest, the Government with alarm; and the man of the moment was Harley who had alienated the Queen from Marlborough and Godolphin.
Harley was a Tory and the Queen had always been a Tory at heart. There was only one thing a Whig Ministry could do and that was get rid of Harley.
Harley had engaged several of the great writers of the day to work for him. Pamphlets were being circulated throughout the city; but his enemies had realized the value of the literary weapon and the age of lampoons had begun.
The story of Abigail Hill’s friendship with the Queen could, the Whigs believed, be used to advantage. It was very different, they believed, from her devotion to the Duchess.
In the streets they had begun to sing the Whig song:
“And when Queen Anne of great renown
Great Britain’s Sceptre swayed.
Besides the Church she dearly loved
A dirty chambermaid.”
Abigail listened quietly; Harley was mildly annoyed; and when the Duke returned from his activities on the Continent for the winter, he grasped the danger of the situation and went into consultation with Godolphin to decide what should be done.
AFTER OUDENARDE
ord Godolphin went down to Holywell House to make plans with the Marlboroughs.
The Duke, realizing that Sarah had herself been largely responsible for her own unpopularity with the Queen, but not daring to tell her so, was torn between his schemes for further conquests abroad and those for ending this intolerable situation at Court.
Godolphin, old, tired and having little love for his task, needed guidance and the Queen’s recent appointment of two new Bishops to Exeter and to Chester had aroused his suspicion.
With Sarah they walked in the gardens, for she said, after the perfidy of that chambermaid she trusted no one—least of all her servants.
It was Sarah who talked. “Blackhall to Exeter and Dawes to Chester!” she cried. “That will mean two more Tory votes in the Lords. We can’t afford it. And you know why Anne has appointed them, don’t you? Because Masham has let Harley into the green closet and he has brought her round to his view that they are the men for the jobs. I tell you this, Marl, and you, Sidney … we cannot stand idle any longer.”
“She is as usual right,” said the Duke, slipping his arm through that of his wife. “We have to be rid of Harley.”
“But how?” asked Godolphin.
Sarah looked at the Lord Treasurer’s heavy eyes and pockmarked skin. A poor ally, she thought, lacking adventure. But what pleasure it gave her to turn from him to dearest Marl, who seemed to grow more handsome year by year and whose genius would win this battle for them as it had won Blenheim and Ramillies.
“You are right, Marl,” she said. “We have to be rid of Harley.”
“How?” repeated Godolphin.
“He must be asked to resign,” said the Duke.
“Ha!” laughed Sarah. “And you think this creeper into green closets, this friend of our dirty little chambermaid will do that?”
“I think,” the Duke replied,