Part 36 (1/2)
”My thoughts are with George. He will be needing us.”
”I have given Masham firm instructions. He will not fail us.” Anne pressed Abigail's hand. ”But I shall be glad, my dear, when we are back with him.”
”It will be soon, Your Majesty.”
”I feel in little mood for thanksgiving. You saw the casualty lists. They haunt me. I think of those poor men dying on the battlefield and I wonder whether it is worthwhile. I wonder whether any fighting is worthwhile.”
”The Duke of Marlborough will explain that to you. Madam.”
”Ah, the Duke! A brilliant soldier, a genius.”
”And where would brilliant soldiers show their genius if not on the battlefield, Madam?”
”But the carnage! My subjects! I told you I think of them as my children, Masham.”
”Yes, Your Majesty. Your heart is too good.”
”I want the best for them, Masham. I want to see them in their homes, with plenty to eat, work to do, families to bring up ... most of all families, for I feel that is the greatest blessing of all. If I had had children ... If my boy had lived there would not be this tiresome matter of George of Hanover. You know, Masham, the Whigs wanted to bring him to visit England as the future heir to the throne. I will not have it. I will not.”
”Mr. Harley told me of it. He thought it monstrous. But he said Your Majesty has only to refuse to receive him.”
”You know how insistent these people can be.”
”The Whigs at the moment have too much power. Since they turned out Mr. Harley and Mr. St. John and the others, they have taken control and that could never be a good thing.”
Anne nodded.
”People are saying that the war is a Whig war, Madam. The Duke of Marlborough was a Tory until he needed the Whigs to support his war.”
”Sometimes I think, Masham, that Marlborough's great concern is to make war for its own sake.”
”And for his, Madam.” Abigail's face formed into an expression matching that of the Duke's, and Anne smiled appreciative of this amusing talent.
”I never liked George of Hanover,” went on Anne. ”He was most ... uncouth. I met him in my youth.”
Yes, she thought, most uncouth. They had brought him to England as a possible bridegroom for her but he had declined the match presumably. It was fortunate, for because of that they had brought her that other dear, good George who now, alas, lay so ill in the little house in Windsor Forest. But although she rejoiced that she had missed George of Hanover, she would never like him.
”If he came,” she went on, ”he might stay. He might set up a Court of his own. I should feel that there were some who were simply waiting for me to die. Oh, no, I will not have him here.”
”Even the Whigs will not dare, Madam, if you refuse to have him. It is a pity that there has been so much noise about his exploits on the battlefield of Oudenarde.”
”Ah! The battle!” sighed the Queen. ”How I wish that we could have done with battles.”
”And now, Madam, you must leave His Highness at Windsor to come here to take part in this celebration.”
”I never felt less like celebrating, Masham.”
”I know it.”
”I do not want my people to think that I glorify war.”
”I understand Your Majesty's deeply religious sentiments, and how you feel about going to St. Paul's decked out in jewels. It would give the impression ...”
”I know exactly what you mean, Masham.”
”It is a victory over the French, but in my opinion it would be better to give thanks humbly to G.o.d and to pray that soon there might be an end to this bloodshed.”
”You voice my feelings so admirably, Masham.”
”Then since Your Majesty is of this opinion why should you not act according to what is in your heart?”
”The d.u.c.h.ess has a grand occasion in mind. She has set out my most dazzling jewels.”
”But if it is not Your Majesty's wish ...”
”You are right. It is my heart which I should obey ... not the wishes of the d.u.c.h.ess of Marlborough.”
The cavalcade went on its brilliant way from St. James's to St. Paul's; the people of London lined the streets to watch it pa.s.s and to wait for the first glimpse of the Queen. They wanted to shout ”Long live Good Queen Anne.”
She was a good woman and a good Queen, they agreed. The fact that she herself was nursing her sick husband won their regard more certainly than the fact that her Commander-in-Chief had scored up yet another victory against the French at Oudenarde. She touched for the Evil; she had set up her Bounty; and they sensed that she genuinely cared for her subjects. There was no scandal in her married life; the only strange aspect of her emotional life was her pa.s.sionate friends.h.i.+p for Sarah Churchill and now it was said for Abigail Masham, her chambermaid. But she was Good Queen Anne and they cheered her heartily.
And in the coach with her rode the d.u.c.h.ess, the beautiful Sarah Churchill who was-not excepting the Queen-the most famous woman in England and abroad.
Sarah was delighted. Another victory for dear Marl. She was the heroine of the occasion. All these people on the streets who were cheering the Queen were in reality cheering her and of course dear Marl. Who was responsible for the victory? Was it this fat woman with the rheumy eyes and the swollen limbs? No, it was her companion-handsome, though well advanced into her forties, with her rich hair, still golden and her fine glowing skin and her brilliant eyes-because after all, Marlborough's victories were hers. Genius that he was he owed his success to her.
A great occasion to be celebrated as such. Nothing should be spared to show the people how important was Marlborough's victory.
Sarah glanced at the Queen, and for the first time noticed that she was not wearing the jewels she had set out for her.
No jewels at all! On an occasion like this! Whatever had happened?
”Where are your jewels?” she snapped.
The Queen turned to her. There were tears in her eyes. She had been noticing that some of the subjects who cheered her were ill-clad and hungry looking. ”My jewels ...?” she murmured absently.
”I put out what you were to wear. What does this mean?”
The Queen, her thoughts still not entirely on the jewels, said: ”Oh, we thought that because there had been such bloodshed it was a sad occasion as well as a great one.”
”We?” thundered Sarah.
”Masham agreed with me.”
Nothing the Queen could have said could have whipped Sarah's anger to greater fury. She, the wife of the hero of the hour, had set out the Queen's jewels, in accordance with her duties as Mistress of the Wardrobe, and Abigail Masham, the chambermaid-s.l.u.t, had said ”No jewels!” and no jewels there were.
This was too much to be borne and even on the ceremonial ride to St. Paul's Sarah could not curb her anger.