Abigail's Cousin (22 page)

"But our
friend did not do himself any favours with his republican
sentiments," Godolphin said, adding: "That was even worse than
confessing to Jacobite sympathies."

"Do you the honours, Stevens!" the hostess
addressed the cook who had that moment brought in a joint of
venison, placing it on a sideboard, while she herself picked up a
decanter of Madeira, offering it to her companio
n, along with her own homilies:

"I'll tell you
what is worse; it is being a cupboard Jacobite. We both know the
Tories who pretend to support her majesty but secretly correspond
with St Germain. Is that not treachery? Bad enough in time of peace
but when our countrymen are losing their lives in the defence of
the realm. It is treason."

"I thought the
whole thing could have been resolved by a compromise, your
ladyship," replied Godolphn putting down his knife and fork.

"Compromise!"
exploded the duchess, "How can one compromise with these
Jacobites!" Then noticing he was not eating, added considerately,
"Are you not hungry, dear friend?"

He put his
hand to his teeth saying ruefully: "I fear my teeth are not what
they were." Then in response to her other point said: "About
Sunderland there was a suggestion of compromise. The queen
suggested he join the council in a non-executive position."

The duchess
was scathing: "What you mean, dear friend is he'll have no office,
and you can be sure no office will be found." Then almost without
pause, she yelled: "Stevens!" the name of the cook whom she asked
to clear away the plates, saying soothingly to Godolphin:

"You'll like
the next course. It is all the fashion at supper parties and
soirees it seems. It's called 'blanc mange' and will be kinder to
your teeth."

Godolphin
leaned back in his chair eyeing her for a few seconds, then said in
admiration:

“Tis such a
pity you're so far removed from the court because I can tell you
that was exactly the message from the Junto. Her majesty might have
saved so much time simply by consulting you. But, dear lady, there
is somebody who is giving advice. Like I said earlier, your
presence is sorely missed."

"Do you like
it?" The hostess was anxious above all about her trifle, her
blanc-mange and Godolphin's face lit up with pleasure. "Delicious
dear lady. I adore this flavour especially. Another product of
war?"

"A sort of
war, dear friend" replied Sarah, "A war with my architect, but it
started off so well with Vanbrugh. He invited me for dinner but
what we talked about were his plays in London. And of course his
new trifle, his so-called blanc-mange. He gives me the recipe as if
to say, there woman, return to your house and concern yourself with
cooking."

Godolphin
smiled realising that Vanbrugh evidently did not understand the
Duchess of Marlborough. He did not envy him his moment of
realisation.

He said: "Her
majesty is taking advice from somebody. Perhaps you might shed some
light on the matter dear lady."

She thought a
while before admitting: "It is a long time since I was at the
court. I have lost touch. Is Sir Charles Hedges still there minding
his quills?"

Godolphin was
amused at her remark realising how much her presence was missed but
answered: "He may as well mind quills as the queen has little
thought for the Colonies for which he is Secretary. I think we can
dispose of Charles. He's much too concerned with his P's and
Q's."

"Sidney, such
vehemence. What's come over you!" She laughed.

Godolphin was
serious: "You can laugh dear lady, but there's trouble brewing over
there. We need someone to travel to Philadelphia and talk to the
colonists man-to-man. After all, they are English, like us.
Sunderland would be just such a man."

"You think
something is brewing over there?" asked the duchess to which
Godolphin replied: "I do, and if it's allowed to fester, it could
turn into another Ireland."

"What about
the prince?" she suggested, "Perhaps Mrs Morley is listening to her
husband."

"She always
has because it was his strict rule never to interfere in politics.
Why should he suddenly change. It's not in character." Godolphin
thought a moment, adding: "No, we can rule George out."

The duchess
invited her guest to return to the garden suggesting she would
order the cook to prepare some bowls of coffee. Then stopped in her
tracks: "My lord has had some new chinaware delivered from our East
Indian friends. Would you like to drink some tea, my lord?"

Godolphin told
her he was pleased to drink anything she cared to tell the cook to
prepare and walked back into the garden. The duchess rejoined him
and commented: "So we've disposed of Hedges and George. Who else
could the queen's advisor be?"

"The only other person it might be is
Robert Harley. He's the Secretary of State for Europe. He's been
our right-h
and man since
the war started."

The duchess
was walking with Godolphin round the garden until he stopped eyeing
a telescope and she said proudly:

"That's how I
keep abreast of things going on at the palace."

"What does Mr
Vanbrugh think of that?" asked an amazed Godolphin.

"He doesn't
know, yet. He must wonder how I know about his workmen bunking off.
Now, if you could observe St James Palace in the same way, you
would soon get to know who is Mrs Morley's secret confidante." The
duchess switched the glass and invited her guest to peer
through."

"It's just a
pile of stones. Is that what you wanted to show me your
ladyship?"

"That's old
Woodstock, Sidney. There was an Anglo-Saxon manor here long before
the Norman conquest. Henry I built a hunting lodge here and his son
dallied here with Rosamund Clifford. That would have been the time
for my telescope."

But Godolphin
was hardly listening; her light chatter and lilting laughter mixed
excellently well with the drone of wasps hastening about their
business, the buzz of bees gathering pollen and the sounds lulled
the satisfied gentleman in his comfortable wicker chair to sleep
and the duchess heard his gentle snores with a smile thinking her
friend's example was a good one to follow and so she herself sank
into her own chair until she too was wooed by the insects of the
garden and closed her eyes and was soon asleep.

The Garden
House, Windsor is no more. It was renamed the Queen's Lodge by one
of Queen Anne's successors and finally it was demolished and there
are differing accounts now as to where it actually stood. Guide
books speculate whether it was part of the structure of the castle
or a separate building entirely but adjacent to it perhaps counted
as part of it, though, being called the Garden House lends credence
to this view as Queen Anne loved gardens and felt particularly at
home here, as did her consort, Prince George of Denmark. They both
liked informality and cosiness and in her sentimental way she took
pity on the building having the house refurbished and extended. It
was located in the particular part of Windsor Castle not favoured
by previous incumbents on account of its proximity to the
tradesmen's entrance and more especially from where the regular
rubbish collection was made.

Whenever Queen
Anne travelled down to Windsor on state business, it was her habit
to abjure the luxurious apartments of the main building preferring
the more modest appointment of the two-storied structure which was
the Garden House where servants and royalty lived and worked cheek
by jowl. Her majesty would not have noticed anything amiss in such
an arrangement as she had been brought up with commoners as
playmates, and it was a particular commoner, Sarah Jennings, whom
the then princess regarded as her closest friend and their letters
to each other, still extant, testify to this warm and deep
friendship.

Soon after they became friends but were
apart, the princess begged Sarah to use one of two names of
commoners and she would use the other in correspondence, Sarah
chose Freeman and so Anne took the other, Morley. By now Sarah had
married John Churchill so he became Mr Freeman, who was imprisoned
in the Tower by King William III. Princess
Anne wrote to her friend Sarah:

'...But let them do what they please,
nothing shall ever vex me, if I can have the satisfaction of seeing
Mrs Freeman; and I swear I would live on bread and water; between
four walls, with her, without repining; for as long as you continue
kind, nothing can ever be a real mortification to your faithful Mrs
Morley, who wishes she may never enjoy a moment's happiness, in
this world or the next, if ever she proves false to
you.'

However by the
year 1707 this close friendship of long standing was under some
strain. A degree of separation had occurred as both women matured,
married and underwent confinement leading in Sarah's case to four
children though Anne suffered several miscarriages. Nonetheless the
very distance of their respective dwellings of several days ride
such as the distance between St Albans and Windsor accounted for
long periods when neither woman spoke to the other. After 1704 it
was Queen Anne's desire that a palace be erected to commemorate the
victory of Blenheim at Woodstock, and Sarah, now Duchess of
Marlborough spent many weeks overseeing the project moving into a
cottage nearby for this purpose.

There arose
also political differences. There was a burgeoning overseas trade
especially between the new colonies and England financed by
merchants and a new breed of men called entrepreneurs who were
being elected to Parliament. Moreover towns where factories sucked
in people to manufacture the goods being exported sought
representation from such men and inevitably the new MPs clashed
with the conservatives whose money came from landholdings, from
church property, from the old England.

The newly
created Bank of England was set up by such entrepreneurs and John
Churchill was one of its founders. This new breed of men formed a
political party which came to be vilified by their opponents as
Whig, describing an Irish cattle rustler and in their turn the
Whigs mocked their opponents as Tories, Scottish border raiders. In
the course of a few years following Anne's succession to the
throne, each found herself sympathetic to the opposite party. The
queen, conservative by nature, somewhat snobbish, devoted to the
Church of England, a landlord owing to the Crown's extensive
estates gravitated to the Tory party whereas Sarah became friends
with the entrepreneurs invited by her husband while establishing
the Bank of England. Many of its shareholders and supporters were
wealthy merchants, overseas agents, manufacturers who looked to the
Whig party for a resolution of many obstructions to trade.

One of the
obstacles to trade was the Franco-Spanish exclusion of English
merchants in the Caribbean, South America and most recently, Canada
from which territory the French were funding Indian tribes such as
the Huron to make raids into New England. The Whigs supported the
War of the Spanish Succession because they believed allied success
would lead to an improvement in this situation for England. The
Tories opposed the war because they saw the wealthy landowning
class getting poorer through extra taxation to pay for the war, the
loss of their labour through military service, and the importation
of grain depressing corn prices at home.

When the two
women did come together owing to the Duchess having certain duties
at court she was obliged to carry out, they inevitably ended up
arguing as their viewpoints were diametrically in opposition. Apart
from politics Sarah was a picture of good health and, as is so
often the case with healthy people, she had little patience with
her sick contemporary, and the queen was certainly very sick at
times suffering from what historians have diagnosed as chronic
gout.

However during
Sarah's continuous absence from her friend's side, there was
someone in the queen's domestic circle who endeavoured to
ameliorate her mistress' sufferings through the application of
treatments which Sarah would have recognised, as her mother was a
practitioner of the so-called arts of the apothecary, a leading
exponent of which would have been known to her, Thomas Culpeper.
Through the application of poultices to her limbs, the queen's
bedchamber-woman provided much needed comfort. Before bedtime she
prepared possets with herbal ingredients giving her mistress a good
night's sleep prior to performing important state occasions. This
person was Abigail Hill employed initially as a woman of the
bedchamber, a so-called 'necessary' whose job it was to empty the
royal chamber-pot, to array and remove the queen's shift (a sort of
nightgown), and other menial tasks.

Such menial
tasks were often performed in the presence of the lady of the
bedchamber, a far more exalted position filled by ladies of rank.
Such a task might consist of the bedchamber-woman passing a fan to
the bedchamber-lady who would pass it on to the queen. However
there was a degree of ritual associated with such tasks with the
objective of creating a distance between servant and monarch
exemplified by the lady acting as a sort of go-between, but it was
a custom more honoured in the breach than the observance.

Unlike in the days of Elizabeth when the
whole of the household would accompany the monarch on a progress
through her kingdom, each of the royal palaces had its own
complement of servants. This again signified the growing wealth of
England because the number of such palaces had doubled, for besides
the queen's main residence of St James Palace, there were Windsor
Castle, Kensington Palace, Hatfield House in the environs of
London, besides the establishments where her majesty often stayed,
as for instance her annual vi
sit at Bath to take the waters.