The attempted invasion had come to nothing; and the Queen need have no fear on that score, but there was a little uneasiness when she heard that Lord Griffin, an ardent Jacobite who had been with her brother in France and had come with him to Scotland, had been captured and was being brought to the Tower where he would be sentenced as a traitor.
Troubled, Anne turned to Abigail. “You see, Masham, I know Griffin well. I have known him all my life. How can I sign his death warrant? I know he fought with my brother and his plan was to set him up in my place, but he is an old friend. I cannot sentence old friends to death, and be at peace with my conscience.”
Abigail had talked with Harley. He was a Jacobite; so was she. They did not wish to see Anne deposed during her lifetime naturally, but when she died—for she would almost certainly die without heirs of her body—they would wish to see James Stuart on the throne and not Sophia of Hanover.
“They will bring Lord Griffin to the tower, Your Majesty, but they will not be able to execute him if you do not sign the death warrant.”
“But it will be expected of me.”
“Your Majesty answers to no one. I believe that some people who have mistakenly thought they could put you in leading strings are beginning to discover that.”
Abigail had folded her arms and pursed her lips. Extraordinarily, it seemed to Anne, her face was transformed and it might have been Sarah standing there.
Anne began to laugh.
“I feel so relieved that my poor brother is safe in France. And you’re right, Masham, they won’t be able to execute him until the death warrant is signed, and if I don’t sign it … then Griffin will live on.”
They laughed together.
Now that Masham behaved less like a servant they were growing closer than ever.
George was clearly worse, and as he loved Kensington perhaps more than any other place, Anne decided to take him there and, with Abigail, nurse him as quietly as she could.
It was Abigail who suggested that the Prince should have apartments on the ground floor of the palace.
The Prince’s difficulty in breathing, increased by his corpulence—and now that he was unable to take exercise he was becoming visibly fatter every day—made it difficult for him to mount staircases; and Abigail’s idea was hailed as an excellent one.
“He loves his plants,” said the Queen indulgently, “and it will be so easy for him to slip out into the gardens to be among them, with the least possible strain.”
So to Kensington went the royal party, and as the Queen could not be parted from Abigail and it was essential that her apartments should be immediately adjoining those of the Queen and Prince, Abigail and Samuel found themselves magnificently lodged at Kensington.
Sarah was flitting from St. Albans to Blenheim and back to see how Marlborough House was progressing and had little time to spare for the Queen. Moreover, she believed that if she remained aloof Anne would be unable to endure the separation and would humbly ask her to come to her.
She waited in vain for the summons, but her daughter Henrietta, who had been visiting at the palace, came to her to tell her what magnificent apartments Abigail was occupying there, and when Sarah asked her to describe them her eyes narrowed with anger.
“Why,” she cried, “I know those apartments although I have never occupied them. William had them made for Keppel. You remember Keppel was at one time a very great favourite with William and he could scarce bear the young man out of his sight. When William died and George took over the Palace—which he did with scarcely respectable speed—Anne said that those apartments should be mine. And that gooseberry-eyed slut is occupying them! I shall soon put a stop to that.”
Although she had pleaded lack of time to go to Court before this, Sarah went straight there and demanded that the housekeeper show her the rooms which were being occupied by the Mashams.
As soon as she saw them she gave vent to her rage.
“These rooms were given to me by the Queen when she first came to the throne!” she declared, and went off to see the Queen, thrusting aside those who would restrain her.
“I can assure you that Her Majesty will put nothing in the way of seeing me!” she declared.
It may have been that Abigail had seen her approach or it might have been one of those rare occasions when she was not in attendance, but Sarah found one of the other bedchamber women with the Queen.
“It is not often that we have the pleasure of Mrs. Freeman’s company,” began the Queen.
But Sarah burst out, “I have heard disturbing news. Mrs. Masham has taken my lodgings.”
Anne looked dismayed and Sarah rushed on. “It is not the first time that she has sought to take that which belongs to me. I’ll not have her in my apartments.”
“Masham has none of your rooms,” said the Queen.
“The housekeeper has shown me that she has. Your Majesty gave me those rooms and I will not have Masham using them.”
“But Masham has none of your rooms,” repeated the Queen, “and to say to the contrary is false and a lie.”
“If Your Majesty will send for the housekeeper, who knows very well which apartments here are being used by whom, he will tell you that Masham is using that apartment which William gave to Keppel and which you gave me. I will summon him.”
“Pray do not,” said the Queen coldly. “I do not wish to see him because I know Masham has none of your rooms.”
Sarah asked leave to depart and the Queen did not detain her. She was so certain that Abigail was using her rooms and could not let pass an occasion for proving herself in the right. It did not occur to her that the Queen was telling her politely that she could no longer consider the apartment hers, and that it had been given to Abigail.
Sarah must prove herself right.
She went once more to the housekeeper. She looked at the apartments again and stalked back to the Queen.
“Masham is in my apartment,” she said.
“Masham has not made use of your apartment,” retorted the Queen coldly.
“I can bring those to Mrs. Morley who will assure her that Masham is in my apartment.”
“How could she help using an apartment which is near my own?” demanded the Queen. “She must be at hand, for the Prince and I need her.”
Sarah was exasperated. How could one talk to a woman who one moment was so emphatic, and then calmly admitted what one had been trying to prove.
Anne made no attempt to placate her; so Sarah took her leave and as she did so she heard her say: “Where is Masham? I have such a headache. Send her to me.”
This was too much to be borne and Sarah was furious. So the Queen no longer cared whether she visited her or not. She would care though if she lost her Commander-in-Chief. And by God, thought Sarah, if I have to endure much more insolence I shall insist on Marl giving up his command. If he were here now she would tell him so, but he was at this moment in Holland, fighting the Queen’s battles while his wife at home was being insulted.
In the heat of her fury she did what she always found soothing to her rage. She sat down and wrote to the object of her anger—in this case the Queen rather than Abigail.
“Madam, upon Lord Marlborough’s going into Holland I believe Your Majesty will neither be surprised nor displeased to hear that I am going into the country, since by your very hard and uncommon usage of me, you have convinced all sorts of people as well as myself that nothing would be so uneasy to you as my near attendance. Upon this account I thought it might not be improper at my going into the country to acquaint Your Majesty that even while Lord Marlborough continues in your service, as well as when he finds himself obliged to leave it, if Your Majesty thinks fit to dispose of my employments, according to the solemn assurances you have been pleased to give me, you shall meet with all the submissions and acknowledgments imaginable.…”