Courting Her Highness_ The Story of Queen Anne - Jean Plaidy [162]
Sarah gazed in astonishment at the regal figure so different from Mrs. Morley of the past.
“I can only believe,” went on Anne, as Sarah did not move, “that Your Grace is hard of hearing. You are dismissed.”
There was nothing Sarah could do but turn away.
Anne had made up her mind that it was the last time she would ever grant Sarah Churchill a private audience.
The Queen could be stubborn, but Sarah went away planning the next stage of the campaign.
It took her some time to accept the fact that she would never be permitted to speak to the Queen again.
THE FALL OF GODOLPHIN
n his Chelsea lodgings Jonathan Swift was waiting for the arrival of an important visitor. He stared gloomily into the fire and took up his pen to write to Esther Johnson in Ireland. It was one of his pleasanter diversions. Stella, as he called her, was as devoted an admirer as his dear friend Miss Vanhomrigh, who was Vanessa to him. Irascible, gloomy, he was dissatisfied with life because a man of his genius must be forced to lend his talents to men of lesser stature for the reason that they, through birth, riches or their own personalities, had forced themselves into positions of power. He hated his poverty, his caution, his ill temper. What a comfort it would be if Stella were with him now—or perhaps Vanessa. Both adored him; both were ready to give him the adulation he desired. Neither was poor. Stella had her fifteen hundred pounds on which she had believed she could get a better return in Ireland than in England. Vanessa was closer at hand to administer comfort.
But he was born disgruntled. He would not marry because he believed he could not afford to; he could not write as he wished to write for fear of landing in the pillory as poor Defoe had. Perhaps he would not have escaped so lightly.
His great pleasure on cold nights when there was not enough fire in the grate to warm his bones and his Irish servant was more incompetent than usual, was to write to Stella. He pictured her eagerly opening his letters and reading news of the English Court which he was able to give her. All the latest gossip gleaned in the coffee houses; the fall of Viceroy Sarah; the rise of Abigail Masham. This was an excellent state of affairs, he told Stella, for he considered the Whigs to be malicious toads; and Robert Harley was his friend and therefore so was Abigail Masham. The great Duchess was in decline; the Duke might follow her. Jonathan Swift was on the side of his good friend Robert Harley for whom he now waited.
There was the knocking on the door. Swift laid down his pen while his servant let in the visitor.
He rose then to greet Robert Harley.
“Ah, my friend,” cried Robert Harley. “Great news! At last we are on the way.”
He bade Swift sit and drew a chair for himself while from his pocket he took a bottle of wine and shouted to the servant to bring glasses. Robert Harley provided his own wine for he knew that his friend Swift could not afford the quality his palate demanded.
Swift watched his benefactor as he savoured the wine which he did with relish before he spoke.
“Sarah is dismissed,” he said. “Finally. Irrevocably.”
“There remains the Duke.”
“My dear Swift, you are your gloomy self. Of course the Duke remains. The hero of Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde and Malplaquet! Let us not forget Malplaquet where the losses were so great that it could scarcely be called a victory. There is still the Duke, but, my dear fellow, we must see that it is not long before he follows his good lady.”
“The Duchess invited dismissal. She is a virago who plays into the hands of her enemy. I have heard the Duke called one of the most charming men in England and the Queen is still fond of him in spite of his wife.”
“You are a pessimist, Jonathan. There are ways and means. There are two things Marlborough loves in this life besides his military glory—Sarah and money. He’ll stand by Sarah; he’ll refuse to see she brought this on herself. That will go against him. And money? He is a very rich man. How did he become so? Well, his wife was very clever