Royal Sisters: The Story of the Daughters of James II (42 page)

“I shall accompany you,” announced Sarah.

“Of course, dear Mrs. Freeman.”

“They will not be expecting me. They will think I want to hide myself because of my husband’s so-called disgrace. I will show them that nothing he has ever done makes me ashamed. I am proud of him. I wonder they do not forbid
me
to go to Court; but they have not done that yet.”

“They know that I should never go without you,” said Anne.

“Dear Mrs. Morley. My one comfort in my trouble.”

“Dearest Mrs. Freeman, what are friends if not to comfort each other in adversity?”

They left the Cockpit together; and as the Princess’s carriage passed along, the people cheered her; but the surprise of the people was obvious when they saw that Sarah Churchill was accompanying her; the entire city knew of Marlborough’s disgrace and believed that would be an end of his ambitions. Therefore it was odd to see Marlborough’s wife in the Princess’s carriage.

When they arrived at the Palace even greater surprise greeted them.

“Was Marlborough’s wife mad?” courtiers whispered to each other. “How could she be received at Court when her husband was in disgrace?”

Sarah was well aware of the stir she created; she walked a pace or so behind Princess Anne, her head high, her eyes flashing scorn, through the royal apartments, which even now retained a whiff or two of fresh paint, into the state apartments so lovingly designed by William and watched over by Mary, to where the King and Queen were waiting.

Anne curtseyed; so did Sarah; and when Mary saw the latter she was almost unable to suppress a gasp of dismay and astonishment.

Mary drew her sister aside and spoke coolly to her. Sarah she ignored.

Many would have tried to hide themselves in the throng; not so, Sarah; it was as though she flaunted her presence in the royal apartments, as though she were saying: “You may not want me, but here I am and here I remain.”

The next day
a letter was delivered to the Princess Anne from the Queen.

I hope you do me the justice to believe it is as much against my will that I now tell you that, after this, it is very unfit that Lady Marlborough should stay with you, since that gives her husband so just a pretence of being where he should not. I think I might have expected you should have spoken to me of it; and the King and I, both believing it, made us stay thus long. But, seeing you so far from it, that you brought Lady Marlborough hither last night, makes us resolve to put it off no longer, but tell you she must not stay, and I have all the reason imaginable to look upon your bringing her here as the strangest thing that ever was done. Nor could all my kindness for you (which is always ready to turn all you do to the best way) at any other time have hindered me from showing you so that moment, but I considered your condition, and that made me master myself so far as not to take notice of it then.… I tell you plainly that Lady Marlborough must not continue with you in the circumstance her lord is.

Sarah, who was with Anne when she read this letter, snatched it from the Princess and gave vent to her rage.

“You see how they treat you! Who would believe that you are the heiress to this crown when you are treated like a serving wench!”

“Sarah, we are
not
going to be parted.”

“Until you dismiss me, I would never go,” was Sarah’s rejoinder.

“Then what can I do?”

“You can write to her and tell her that you resent her unkindness and have no intention of parting with Lady Marlborough.”

“What will they do then?”

“What can they do? It is for you to choose those you wish to have about you.”

So once more under Sarah’s dictation Anne wrote to her sister, and when the letter reached her Mary sent orders that Lady Marlborough was to leave the Cockpit.

“There is only one thing to do,” said Sarah; “I must leave the Cockpit, so if you do not want us to be parted you must come with me.”

“Where can we go?”

“My dear Mrs. Morley forgets she is the heiress to the throne. There will be some who are ready to lend her a lodging, I’ll swear. What of Sion House? That would be comfortable. I am sure the Duchess of Somerset would not deny you shelter there if you asked it. Shall I arrange for a letter to be taken to her while we prepare to leave.”

“Oh, dear Mrs. Freeman, you think of everything!”

“Then write immediately. Someone must take care of Mrs. Morley. Remember her condition, and she is never well during these times. A miscarriage could be brought on. I am sure the people will realize how harsh your sister and her Dutchman are to turn you out of doors at such a time.”

So Anne wrote the letter while Barbara Fitzharding immediately went to her sister to tell her that Anne was proposing to move to Sion House with Sarah.

When William heard this he sent to the Duke of Somerset asking him to refuse the request of the Princess Anne.

As one of the foremost noblemen of England, Somerset was furious to be dictated to. What did this Dutchman think he was doing? He must realize that England was not Holland. They wanted no uncouth foreigners here. A request had been made to his wife by a kinswoman who happened to be heiress to the throne, and Somerset implied that he had received the Kings
request
too late, and his wife had already offered Sion House to the Princess Anne.

Anne, with Sarah
and George, left for Sion House, and William’s retort was to rob them of all the honors which they had enjoyed; these included their guards, so when they left, they rode in their carriage unaccompanied.

The people watched them: the Princess Anne, large with child; her faithful woman beside her and her husband, holding her hand, assuring her of his affection during all their troubles.

What was the Dutch monster doing to their Princess? asked the people. She was no favorite of his because she was English and the King had no favor to bestow on the English. Was not Marlborough in disgrace for pointing this out?

Anne smiled wanly and waved her hand in acknowledgment of the cheers.

“Poor long-suffering lady!” said the watchers.

A few days
later when she rode out in her carriage, with Sarah beside her, her coach was held up near Brentford by two masked men.

Anne was terrified. Such a thing had never happened to her before. Sarah demanded: “What does this mean?”

“It means, lady, you hand over your valuables and keeps your life … or if you don’t, you loses both. The choice is yours.”

“Do you realize this lady is the Princess Anne and I am Lady Marlborough.”

“Thanks for the information, lady. You should have some very nice valuables.”

Anne was lying back against the upholstery, her plump cheeks quivering. The coachman dared do nothing. Trembling she removed her jewelry and put it into the grimy outstretched hand; she dared not look at the eyes glinting behind the mask.

To her chagrin, Sarah was forced to do the same.

Then satisfied, the highwaymen allowed them to go on their way.

The Princess Anne
held up in her coach and robbed of her jewels—some said to be priceless!

What next? Had she not been robbed of her guards, of course, she would not have been robbed of her jewels. This was no way to treat a royal Princess. It was Dutch William’s doing. He had taken away her protectors and she, poor lady, not far off her accouchement, was in peril of being robbed—perhaps murdered—on the highways.

The lampoons began again. The popularity of the Princess had never been so high, that of the King never so low.

Rebellion all about
him, thought William. How ready the people were to take sides against him! They were cheering Anne, that fat, stupid creature who hadn’t a mind of her own, and obeyed the odious Churchill woman in everything.

He was continually wondering what news was coming from Ireland and Scotland. Three crowns! he thought. How much better had there been but one. Ireland and Scotland—they were not worth the trouble.

In the last weeks he had heard that MacIan of Glencoe had refused for some time to take the oath to live peacefully under the Government. William had believed that if he promised pardon to all who had been in rebellion, provided they took the oath before the end of the last year, he would succeed in quelling rebellion. The majority, tired of conflict, had taken the oath.

William did not know that MacIan, head of the McDonald clan, had waited until the last day of December and then had gone to Fort William to take the oath, only to find there was no magistrate there. This had meant that he must travel to Inverary, through the Highlands in difficult weather, and thus he had not taken the oath until the sixth day of January.

The Campbells decided that this would be a good way of destroying the rival clan, and keeping from William the fact that MacIan had belatedly taken the oath, assured him that if he ordered that justice should be done, they would see that it was.

William, weary of troublemakers, believing that he had to show a strong hand, decided to make an example and gave the required order.

As for the McDonalds of Glencoe, if they can well be distinguished from the rest of the Highlanders, it will be proper for, the vindication of public justice to extirpate that set of thieves. W.R.