Caroline the Queen

Sarah Churchill’s Bargain

THERE was a woman who watched the antics of the Court with malicious pleasure. She was one of the richest women in England and had at one time been the most powerful. This was Sarah, the widowed Duchess of Marlborough.

Her husband had died in 1722 and since then she had lost the zest for life except when she was quarrelling. Consequently she gave herself up to this, which was to her an exciting pastime.

She had had a glorious quarrel with John Vanbrugh over the building of Blenheim; she had others with all the members of her family in turn and especially her only two living daughters. She had turned her attention to her grandchildren and the story was current that she had blacked the face on a painting of Anne Egerton, her granddaughter, and scrawled beneath it: ‘She is blacker within.’ She had quarrelled with Lord Sunderland, her son-in-law, because he had remarried; she had indulged in several lawsuits, but these were minor matters and Sarah could not forget the days when as chief adviser to Queen Anne she had been at the centre of the nation’s affairs. That was where she longed to be and only that could give her something to live for now that her husband, her dear Marl, was no more.

Therefore she must quarrel with the most important man in the country; and no quarrel meant quite so much to Sarah as her quarrel with Sir Robert Walpole.

It was galling for her, who had been the wife of the greatest General of his age, who had ruled him and ruled Queen Anne, to find that Walpole dismissed her as a silly old woman of no importance to him. Gone were the days when she could have marched into action against him, could have undermined his power, could have set her own men around him to pull him down. Now she was just a feeble old woman, or so they thought.

Marlborough was dead and she had to be doing something all the time to forget that depressing fact. The only time when her face softened, when she felt lonely and defenceless was when she thought of him in the days of his prime—the handsomest man alive she had thought, and a genius among his fellows—and remembered then that he was gone for ever.

But she never allowed such moods to continue. She would stamp through her house—either at Windsor or Marlborough House next to St James’s—harry her servants, summon whatever members of her family were at hand, berate them, scorn them, and tell them they were unworthy to be the offspring of the great Duke.

Only when she was angry could she find a reason for living.

There were a few people who did not irritate her. Of her grandchildren, most of whom she had quarrelled with, as they grew older, she cared most for Diana Spencer, her dear Lady Di as she called her. Lady Di was young, handsome, and intelligent. Her family thought her extremely clever to be able to keep on good terms with the old lady, but Di seemed to manage it without much effort. She had always seemed to be able to please her grandmother, even from the days when as a child she had been so much in her household, for Diana’s mother, Anne Churchill, had died at the age of twenty-eight and had left her children to her mother’s care.

Di was spirited and yet tactful; she was beautiful, and Sarah was reminded of her own youth through the charms of this lovely young girl.

Sarah liked a woman to have spirit as long as it did not dash with her own; this of course rarely happened, but she had managed to keep on good terms with Lady Mary Wortley Montague, as much a character in her way as Sarah was in hers.

Lady Mary had almost as many enemies as Sarah had, for while Sarah blundered through with her frankness Lady Mary could not resist displaying her satirical wit. Lady Mary was a traveller and an eccentric and like Sarah cared little for opinion and went her own way.

When she was in London she occasionally saw the Duchess; she had a fellow feeling for a woman who had once been in the thick of affairs and now found herself living on the perimeter. ‘Poor Sarah Churchill!’ she would say. ‘I must go and call on her.’

It was always interesting to hear Sarah’s views of the latest scandal, particularly when one had been away. Sarah would put forward her forceful views and of course believed that she knew everything.

So Lady Mary called on Sarah and the old lady was delighted to see her.

It was very pleasant to hear Lady Mary’s accounts of her notorious quarrel with Pope, who had hated her since she had laughed at his declaration of love for her. Now of course the little man was using his pen to attack her and that unpleasant Irishman Dean Swift was helping him. There was always a controversy going on around Lady Mary.

They discussed Lord Hervey with whom Lady Mary was on friendly terms, although she disliked Hervey’s wife.

‘I never could endure Mary Lepel,’ she said. ‘The woman seems only half alive to me.’

Sarah agreed with her. She could not endure people who were only half alive.

‘Wherever we look there are always quarrels,’ said Mary. ‘Everyone seems to indulge in them.’

‘Ah, that’s true. Do you know my dear Marl and I never quarrelled.’

Lady Mary forced herself not to show a little impatience, for once Sarah started on her favourite subject she was inclined to indulge herself to the boredom of her listeners.

‘Only rarely,’ she amended. ‘Oh, yes, there were rare occasions when even we quarrelled. He was jealous of me ... and I admit, I of him.’ She looked fiercely at Lady Mary. ‘Although of course there was no need. I remember once I cut off my hair to annoy him. He loved my hair. Oh, it was very fine in those days. Such a lot of it and golden colour. Lady Di’s hair reminds me of what mine was when I was her age. Mind you hers hasn’t the colour ... nor do I believe the fine texture ... but it reminds me.’ The Duchess’s old face lost a little of its grimness. ‘He said nothing at the time and I thought he did not notice, but on his death, my dear, I opened the drawer of his cabinet and there I found ... my curls. He had kept them all those years. That was devotion for you.’

‘Very touching,’ agreed Lady Mary. ‘There must be very few women who were loved as you were.’

‘There is no one on earth like him. As I told Coningsby and Somerset when they asked for my hand after his death. The heart and hand which once belonged to the Duke of Marlborough shall never be given to anyone else, I said ...’

‘I know. I know. You have heard, of course, the latest scandal from Court. The Prince is now in open defiance. Who can blame him? They have treated him very badly.’

‘They are an impossible lot . . . these Germans. Would to God we had never let them in. I used to say to Marl what’ll happen when the Germans come, and we both thought that James across the water might have served the country better.’

‘Well, we let them in and here they are. They are dull and stupid ... except, of course, the Queen.’

‘That woman! ‘ spat out Sarah. ‘I took a dislike to her as soon as I saw her. Jumped up piece! Who is she? Where is Ansbach? And tell me what would she have been if George hadn’t married her? Some petty count or other would have taken her up perhaps. And the airs! And the graces! And she goes around with that coarse crude humbug. Don’t talk to me about Robert Walpole. I could tell you something of that man. I could tell you what sort of parties he gives at that place of his ... what is it, Houghton? And filled with valued treasures which a man of crudeness couldn’t appreciate apart from the fact that they cost good money. And where did he get his money? Out of the South Sea Bubble. His fortune represents the losses of others....’

Sarah paused. She and Marl had done very well out of the South Sea Company. But she never allowed such considerations to bother her.

‘And that woman he lives with. Moll Skerrett. Queening it there at Houghton at his table. And where is my Lady Walpole all this time? Oh, she is consoling herself with Tom, Dick, and Harry, and George. For they say our gracious King was one of them. And this is the man, if you’ll believe it, who governs all our lives. If Marl had lived ...’

Lady Mary nodded sadly, but she was thinking that Marlborough had been out of favour before the arrival of the first German George and there had been rumours of certain shady deals which did not enhance his reputation. But she refrained from mentioning these matters; it was such restraint which enabled her to keep on moderately good terms with the old warhorse.

‘Oh, they have their troubles,’ she said. ‘The Prince is a real thorn in their sides.’

‘Poor boy! ‘ Sarah was always temporarily on the side of her enemies’ enemy.

‘They say his debts are enormous.’

‘And do you wonder at it! Those misers bribed Walpole to see that the Civil List benefited them ... and they kept the Prince’s share for themselves. Robbers! Harpies! I wonder the people don’t send them packing. Let them go back to Hanover. I hear they think so much of the place.’

‘The King praises it, but the Queen I think does not share his opinion.’

‘She knows what side her bread is buttered. Madam Ansbach is fond of England. Of course she is! She was a pauper before she married so well. And then she comes here and she takes her place on the throne and she and that old fox Walpole put their heads together and between them they rule. Of course she is satisfied! And the little bantam struts about thinking he is a king. Bah! Send the whole boiling back to Hanover, I say.’

‘The Prince is ready to rebel, I heard. He wants his debts paid, a place in the government of affairs, and a wife.’

‘He’s entitled to them.’

‘At the moment he is seen often at the house of his mistress. They say the child could take his pick of several fathers.’

‘The young man should be married.’

‘The difficulty is to find a princess. She has to be Protestant, remember. She would have to have a big dowry. But where is she?’

‘She’s to be found ... if they look. The truth is that bantam cock and that fat elephant don’t want him married. No, they want to keep him down. The last thing in the world they want is to see him married. It would give him too much power. They want it all. Madam Caroline and Master Walpole ... they are the ones who are holding that young man back from his natural rights.’

She would have gone on had not Lady Diana been announced.

She forgot her indignation at the sight of this beloved grandchild.

‘Come here, my dear,’ she said. ‘Lady Mary Wortley Montague has been enlivening me with the latest Court scandals. You can join us.’

The Duchess of Marlborough had an idea. She kept it to herself as yet. She knew very well that if she mentioned it to anyone ... just anyone ... they would think she was mad. Well, she was accustomed to being thought mad. And she herself did not think she was mad in the least. She merely thought that everyone else was stupid, timid, and deserved nothing.

She smiled to think what Marl would have said of this idea. He would have remonstrated with her and told her she was too bold. How many times had he told her that? They had quarrelled ... oh, no, not quarrelled. No one could call it that. They had argued, discussed, disagreed on so many things.

If he had followed me, she told herself fiercely, he would have had his just deserts. He would have ruled England, which was what he should have done.

Others said that she had ruined his career and that but for her he would never have had to face disaster and disgrace.

‘It isn’t true! It isn’t true!’ she cried; and put her hands to her face, for there were tears on her cheeks.

They had lost favour with Anne through that sly and wicked Abigail Hill. How was she to have known that she was nursing a viper in her bosom? How was she to guess that the slut she had raised up would in time succeed in driving her from Court. That was the cruelty of life. Everyone had blamed her ... except Marl. Dearest Marl, he had never blamed her. He did not share the general view. He had seen her to the end as Sarah Jennings, the girl whom he had married although she was without fortune.

But that was past and life would be tolerable for a while if she could bring off this plan. It was a great plan. She smiled to think of it. Only she, Sarah Churchill, could think of such a plan and dare to put it into practice.

Secrecy was everything ... just everything. Let this seep out and they would do everything in their considerable power to stop her. He could imagine the wrath of Madam Ansbach. As for dear Sir Robert, the man would lose his calmness for which he so prided himself, and go ... mad!

It was such a wild and glorious plan that no one would believe it was possible. She would show them. And when it succeeded they would have to admit that Sarah Churchill was as redoubtable in her old age as she had been in the days of the great Duke’s glory.

So much depended on the success of small details. She had waited in an agony of impatience for an answer to the message she had sent to the Prince of Wales. It was possible that he would refuse her invitation. After all, what respect had these young people for the great ones of the past.

All she had said was that she had a matter which she believed His Royal Highness would find of the utmost importance if he would do her the honour of giving her an interview at Marlborough House. She regretted that she could not come to him but he, whom she knew had the kindest heart in the world, would understand that as a very old woman she was so often confined to her house. If he would do her the great honour of calling on her, she was sure the Great Duke would look down on Heaven and bless him. The matter was one of secrecy, and if the Prince would humour her he would bring great happiness to an old woman who had once served her country with great zeal, and hoped to do so again.

The Prince was mystified; he was also chivalrous. Sarah Churchill was an old menace he knew; she spent her time inventing grievances and quarrelling with people, going to law whenever possible. But it was hardly likely that she would quarrel with the Prince of Wales. In any case, if she attempted to he only had to take his leave.

So, the Prince of Wales called on the Duchess at Marlborough House.

She was filled with emotion to see him.

‘It is so good of you to come. How can I thank you. And how handsome you are You must forgive an old woman who always speaks her mind. But I had not thought your parents capable of producing such a son.’

The Prince was amused. Any slight to his parents nowadays gave him the greatest pleasure and Sarah had wasted no time in telling him that she felt the same as he did about them.

‘My limbs are stiff these days, Your Highness. I’m an old woman now, and since the dear Duke went I have felt little inclination to leave my home. Would you be seated, and I will tell you why I have taken this liberty ... if liberty you think it.’

The Prince replied courteously that it could only be a pleasure to call on the Duchess of Marlborough. He had always loved to hear of the great Duke’s victories and one of his greatest regrets was that he had been too young to serve with him.

‘You missed a great experience, Your Highness. There was never a general like him. But you know that well. I must remember not to waste your time for which I am sure you have many more uses than waiting on an old woman. I have always been noted for speaking my mind. I say out boldly what I mean. I was never one to hum and hah and take thousands of words to get to a point.’

‘An excellent quality! ‘ murmured the Prince.

‘My plan is this: I have heard that you are in need of money ... large sums of money. I have also heard that you wish to marry. I’ll say this—that I understand both. You have been treated with miserly contempt by those who sit on our throne. And you have not had that which as Prince of Wales should be yours. Now are you going to stand aside and let them do what they will with you?’

‘I do not as yet understand Your Grace’s proposition.’

‘This is it: I’ve a granddaughter, Lady Diana Spencer. She is beautiful, intelligent, fit to be a Queen of England in fact a great deal more fit than any I’ve ever seen wear this crown. It is my wish that she be Queen of England. You could marry her.’

The Prince looked astounded and Sarah hurried on slyly: ‘I am a very rich woman, Your Highness. I would give my granddaughter a dowry of one hundred thousand pounds when she became your wife.’

The Prince was too astonished for speech. He looked at the old woman who was watching him expectantly. Marriage to her granddaughter! Secret marriage!

Then he thought of all his debts, and the words which kept going on in his brain were: One hundred thousand pounds.

‘Well, well,’ said Sarah impatiently, ‘what does Your Highness think?’

She herself was thinking that he was a foolish young man, after all; once he was her son-in-law she would have to make him wake up. She relished the task. She saw herself once more a figure of power. The future Queen’s grandmother. She would have to go on living to see that. It would be an incentive. She would. Not even God could drag her away before she wanted to go.

This was what she needed to give life a spice. Only if she could be in the centre of power again could she endure this earth without dear Marl. She pictured him now up in Heaven looking down on her, smiling, applauding, thinking: If I had always listened to your bold schemes for me, Sarah my love, it would have been different.

Well now there was no one to stop her and she was offering her lovely Lady Di to this inane young fool who had the stamp of Hanover all over his silly face. All the better. All the easier to be led!

‘I ... I had not realized that you would put such a proposition to me,’ said the Prince. ‘I ... I must have time ... time to think.’

This was not refusal then. Time to think? What did that mean? Time to talk it over with ninnies as stupid as himself! Time for Walpole and Madam Ansbach to get wind of the great scheme!

‘There are many enemies of Your Highness who would seek to stop such a solution to your problems.’

‘I know that well.’

‘I can tell you how angry it has made me to hear the talk. Led by the nose ... that’s His Majesty ... led by Master Walpole. And he does not know it. I hope Your Highness will not allow these people to treat you as scurvily.’

‘I shall not,’ cried the Prince, very bold now that he was not facing them, Sarah noticed. Oh, he would be as easy to lead as a pig with a ring through his nose.

‘Oh, yes, they will do everything to prevent this. They do not want to see you married ... although they know full well it is time you were. They are afraid that married status will give you greater power, that they will have to

increase your allowance. I know them. I can tell you this that in the Duke’s day I had to deal with ... vipers.’

‘I know of your great experience and ...’

‘It is for you to decide. I assure Your Highness that the Lady Diana has many suitors. I could make an admirable match for her tomorrow, so I shall want a speedy answer. I’ll tell you this: Shortly she will be here. You will have an opportunity of observing her, talking to her, realizing her worth. I would not want you to take a pig in a poke. Then you can give me your answer tomorrow. Remember it must be our secret. You can depend upon it everything would be done to prevent your seizing this advantage. Meet my granddaughter. Think of what I have said. I will send for her now.’

Lady Diana Spencer who had been summoned to Marlborough House and ordered to come to her grandmother as soon as she was sent for came into the room.

She was young and lovely; she walked with grace and her eyes sparkled with intelligence.

‘I have a surprise for you,’ said Sarah. ‘His Highness the Prince of Wales has done me the honour to call on me.’

Lady Di curtsied charmingly and the Prince took her hand.

‘Take His Highness and show him the gardens,’ said Sarah. ‘I know he is very interested in them.’

When they had gone she sat back in her chair and laughed aloud. She hoped Marl really was watching.

She had not felt so alive, so in love with life, since he had gone.

The Prince of Wales stood before the Duchess of Marlborough.

‘Well,’ asked the Duchess. ‘What is Your Highness’s answer?’

‘I find Lady Diana delightful.’

‘Ha! Good enough for a prince, eh?’

‘Far too good,’ he said falsely.

Sarah did not deny this.

‘And so you want to marry her.’

He hesitated. ‘Have you considered how angry the King will be?’

"I have never been afraid of Kings ... or Queens,’ she said fiercely.

He looked at her with admiration. It was true. Everyone knew how she had bullied Queen Anne.

‘Then ... I will ask you for the hand of Lady Diana Spencer.’

Sarah chuckled. ‘Your Highness will not regret this. Now ... we must act with the greatest caution, for if this project reached the ears of the King or that dog Walpole they would do everything in their power to prevent it and we might as well face the fact that they have more power than we have.’

The Prince nodded; the more he thought of the proposal the better he liked it. Lady Di was charming; a hundred thousand pounds was an irresistible bait; and in addition he would have the joy of infuriating his parents.

The wedding shall take place at my lodge in Windsor Great Park. I shall be staying there with Lady Di and you must ride out there on some pretext. It will not be difficult. My chaplain will marry you.’

‘Will he agree, do you think?’

‘My chaplain will do as I tell him.’

‘He might be held responsible by my parents.’

‘He is responsible to no one but me.’

‘It seems as though you have thought of everything.’

‘Naturally I have planned this in detail. I want to see you and my granddaughter happily settled. Now, let us make sure that we have thought of every detail; and we must all make sure that we speak of this to no one. Until the ceremony is over, not a soul must know it is to take place.’

‘I understand,’ said the Prince; and he went blithely away.

But it was not to be supposed that he was going to keep this secret.

Anne Vane noticed there was something different about him. He was excited, but he resisted all her efforts to worm the secret out of him.

He did take Bubb into his confidence. Bubb was amused and whispered it to Mrs Behan.

‘What will happen to Anne when he marries?’ she wanted to know.

‘Oh, Princes keep mistresses you know, even though they may have a wife as well.’

Mrs Behan was thoughtful. She did not believe that Sarah Churchill would allow her grandson-in-law to keep a mistress when he was married to Lady Diana Spencer. If the Prince no longer cherished Anne Vane it would not be so amusing to be Anne’s great friend. They would not spend so much time in exalted company.

Mrs Behan thought it was her duty to call on Anne and when they were alone together she said: ‘My dear, how do you feel about the Prince’s plans.’

‘Plans,’ cried Anne. ‘What plans?’

‘Don’t tell me you don’t know.’ Mrs Behan clapped her hand over her mouth while she watched Anne covertly.

Anne was growing angry. ‘I knew there was something. I asked him and he would tell me nothing. What do you know ... that I don’t?’

‘Perhaps I shouldn’t tell.’

‘You’ll tell me,’ declared Anne.

He mentioned it to George. The Duchess of Marlborough has offered him Lady Diana Spencer.’

‘Offered him?’

Mrs Behan laughed. ‘Did you think as his mistress? Not old Sarah. He’s to marry her and get one hundred thousand pounds for it.’

‘And he’s ... going to?’

Mrs Behan lifted her shoulders.

‘He’d do anything for a hundred thousand pounds,’ said Anne blankly. Then she was triumphant. ‘They’ll not allow it.’

‘But they won’t know until it’s too late.’

‘You mean it’s to be ... in secret.’

‘Yes, tomorrow ... at Windsor in the Duchess’s private chapel. The Duchess’s own chaplain will perform the ceremony.’

‘No! ‘

Anne’s future was suddenly bleak. She knew as well as Mrs Behan did that the Duchess of Marlborough would see to it that she was soon dismissed.

She tottered and was about to fall into a heap when Mrs Behan said: ‘Fainting won’t help. Some things might, though.’

That was enough to stop the faint.

‘What?’ demanded Anne.

‘Well, if Sir Robert Walpole knew what was going to happen ... it wouldn’t happen, would it.’

‘But how ...’

‘A note ... warning him. That could stop it. He might get such a note. I mean ... there’s no reason why he shouldn’t, is there?’

The Prince was preparing to leave for Windsor. He was humming to himself the latest Buononcini melody. When they heard they were going to be furious.

He pictured himself presenting Lady Diana to them. ‘Your Majesties, I want you to meet my wife, the Princess of Wales.’

Nothing he could possibly do would infuriate them as much as this.

His horse was waiting. He would gallop all the way to Windsor and there waiting for him would be the fiery old Duchess and her lovely granddaughter. In the forest lodge he would be married.

Diana was beautiful, but it was not her beauty which he found so delightful to contemplate as the anger he would see on the faces of his parents.

Serve them right! They deserved all the trouble he could bring to them. They had never treated him fairly.

He called to his man ... the one he was taking with him to Windsor. A trusted servant. He would take no one else.

The door opened. The Prince stared, then he stammered: ‘W ... what do you want?’

‘To save Your Highness from disaster,’ said Sir Robert Walpole.

They sat facing each other and there was no longer need for speech.

He could not go. He was a prisoner although discreetly guarded.

‘It would be unwise,’ said Sir Robert, ‘for this to be publicly known. We will keep it as quiet as possible.’

He had argued at first. He would make his own decisions. But the marriage of the Prince of Wales was a decision for the King and his council, not for the Prince himself.

‘I shall choose when and whom I marry,’ the Prince had said defiantly.

But Walpole had only smiled benevolently. One did not take any notice of childish observations.

But the Prince was a prisoner. He would not go to Windsor. And now Walpole was on his guard and would take precautions against such a contingency ever arising again.

Frederick felt defeated and his hatred was doubled. Not so much for Walpole as for his parents.

In Windsor Lodge the Duchess waited. Lady Di waited with her.

‘Grandmother,’ said Lady Di at length, ‘I don’t believe he is coming.’

‘Spineless idiot,’ cried the Duchess. ‘He is his cockerel of a father all over again.’

‘He may have been prevented.’

‘He’s been talking too much. I’ll warrant. God damn these Germans.’

In spite of her fury the Duchess was a pathetic sight as she sat slumped forward in her chair.

If only Marl were here, she was thinking. We’d send the guards. We’d bring him here by force. We’d make him marry her.

But that was nonsense. Even Marl couldn’t do that if he were here and at the height of his glory.

And he is gone, gone, she thought, gone with the glory, and taken with him my only reason for being alive.