The Queen still said nothing and Sarah asked harshly: “Well, what has Mrs. Morley to say? Do not tell Mrs. Freeman that you regret parting with her. You have shown so clearly that you prefer Masham.”
“I cannot agree to this suggestion,” said the Queen.
“Mrs. Morley does not think that my children would serve her well?”
“I am sure that being Mrs. Freeman’s children they would perform their duties most excellently. But it is inconceivable that Mrs. Freeman and Mrs. Morley should be parted while they live.”
Sarah was exultant. Here was a return to the old standing. The Queen was merely temporarily piqued. All right. Sarah would soon be back.
“Mrs. Morley is gracious to her poor Freeman. Now as to Mrs. Masham …”
“Dr. Arbuthnot says she is the best nurse in the kingdom.”
So there was nothing to be done in that quarter while the Prince lived; but Sarah was not going to let Anne think that she merely had to beckon Sarah Churchill and she would come hurrying back.
Sarah settled down to make arrangements about the town house she intended to have. She had had her eyes on it for some time when it had been occupied by Catherine of Braganza. It was on the south side of Pall Mall and King Charles II had planted an acorn in its gardens, and this acorn came from the oak tree which had hidden him at Boscobel.
Sarah planned to build in place of that old house a much grander one which should be her family’s town residence; she had decided it should be called Marlborough House.
Now she reminded Anne of an old promise to give her this house; and Anne, happy to turn the conversation away from Mrs. Masham and the replacement of Sarah by her daughters, agreed that the site should be Sarah’s.
Sarah emerged triumphant from that interview; and thoughout the Court it was said that not only had Godolphin and Marlborough scored over Harley, but Sarah would soon be putting Mrs. Masham in her place.
Anne was disturbed. There was alarming news. The King of France having been so often defeated by Marlborough in Europe was seeking to attack the Queen of England in a way most calculated to alarm her.
Her ministers had informed her that her half brother, whom the French King openly called James III, King of England, was being given the aid he would need to land in Scotland where they were ready to rise in his favour and come against her.
Marlborough came in all haste to St. James’s.
How fortunate that he was in England! There was a strength about the man. A genius which she could not fail to recognize. What should I do without dear Mr. Freeman! she asked George who, poor dear angel, was too ill to give much thought to the matter.
The best of the Army was in Europe but this would be a matter for the fleet, said Marlborough. Sir George Byng was setting sail immediately to prevent the hostile force landing.
But they must be watchful, for Scotland and the Northern counties were ready to revolt.
When Marlborough left, Anne immediately summoned Abigail to bring her brandy.
“It is so alarming,” she said as she sipped gratefully. “The Prince so ill … and all this trouble!”
Abigail wiped the poor eyes which watered frequently.
“Thank you, my dear. How I wish there need not be this strife. He is my brother for all that he comes against me.”
“Your Majesty is sure of that?”
“Oh, there were rumours. Some thought at the time that he was brought into the bed by means of a warming pan … but I have heard that he is very like my dear father. So good my father was to me, Masham. And to my sister Mary. He doted on us. He was a good father … but so distressingly fond of women … like my uncle Charles. But the people were fond of him. By the way, I hear that they are not pleased because the Duchess has taken his old house near the Mall. She has had the oak cut down which he planted.”
“The people loved that oak, Madam. To them it was a symbol of royalty. The oak saved King Charles’s life and they loved it for that reason.”
“They still wear the oak apple in memory of the occasion, Masham. Yes, my uncle was much loved, but my father … alas, he had his enemies. I often think of those days and I wish … I wish with all my heart, Masham.…”
“Your Majesty must not upset yourself.”
“But there is this conflict … and now my own brother comes against me. He is but a boy. Is it not sad, Masham? I often think of all the babies I have lost and I wondered whether it was a curse on me. And now my dearest husband … There will be no hope of more children.”
Abigail did not know how to comfort the Queen; she could not speak of the possibility of a more fruitful marriage while the Prince still clung to life.
“No, I shall have no heirs of my body,” went on Anne. “And we must think of the succession. I do not like the Germans, Masham. And this boy is my father’s own son. I am sure of it.”
“But, Madam, you cannot wish that this venture of his will be victorious!”
Anne smiled at her dear friend’s horror, and took Abigail’s freckled hand in hers.
“No, my dear. He will not be successful. The Duke would never allow that. I can only hope that he will not be harmed. That is what I fear. I should like him to go quietly back to France and wait … and when I am gone …”
“Your Majesty would make him your heir?”
“I think that would please my father and that then everything would be right.”
“He would have to become a member of the Church of England, Madam.”
“Oh, yes. He would have to be that. And if he were … then I think it would be the happiest solution. Meanwhile, poor boy, he will try to take by force that which, if he would but wait in patience, I should be very happy to hand over to him.”
Abigail laid her head against the Queen’s hand.
“What is it, Masham? Your cheeks are wet.”
“I cannot bear to hear Your Majesty speak of the days when you will not be here.”
“Dear Masham! You make my life so much more bearable than it would otherwise be. But I have lost my boy. It is over now, some say, but to me it is as fresh as though it happened yesterday. Always I hoped that there would be others … but now … I am losing my dearest husband. Oh, Masham. I hope you enjoy with Samuel what I have with George.”
“It is Your Majesty’s goodness which makes everything good about you.”
“You are a dear creature. But all is not good. And now my own brother comes against me.”
“He will not succeed, Your Majesty.”
“I know it. But he comes to try to take that which I hold and which he thinks I usurped from him. It is not so, Masham. The people would never have a papist on the throne.”
“Your Majesty has always faithfully upheld the Church of England.”
“Therein I find my strength, Masham. In the Church, which assures me I did right.”
Abigail kissed the Queen’s hand and while she wept with her she told herself that she must let Harley know that the Queen was against the Hanoverian succession and was for the Stuart James.
News filtered through to the Court of what was happening to the invading forces.
As Marlborough had predicted, they had no chance against Sir George Byng, and the remnants of the invading forces were soon fleeing back to France.
There were rumours that Prince James had been captured and was a prisoner on board an English ship.
The Queen told Abigail that she was deeply disturbed because if the young man was brought to her, she would have to remember that he was her own brother and she could never find it in her heart to punish him.
The Chevalier de St. George, as James was known in France, was after all a young man in his twentieth year; it was said that he was bold and handsome. The position would be very difficult if he were brought to London for trial.
But she could trust Admiral Byng to do better than that; Anne was very pleased when the report reached her that her brother, of whom she now spoke as The Pretender, had been treated with the respect due to his rank and landed on the French coast.