Royal Sisters: The Story of the Daughters of James II (27 page)

Elizabeth was a delight to him; she was serious when he wanted her to be and she had a grasp on affairs so that he did not have to explain in detail what was worrying him.

“Of course,” she said on this occasion, “it is the Marlboroughs who are behind this trouble. Sarah Churchill has persuaded Anne to ask for a bigger grant. And you know why—so that the bulk of it can go into the Marlborough purse. I know through my sister what goes on in that household.”

“We shall have to make a settlement—and with as little bother as possible. Although it is disconcerting to see good money thrown away I would agree to a grant of fifty thousand pounds to silence her, for silenced she must be.”

“Sarah knows this and I doubt if she will settle for fifty thousand pounds.”

“She must, because the country can afford no more.”

“I will get my sister Barbara to have a word with Sarah Churchill, telling her that she would be wise to settle for fifty thousand pounds and that if she does not, she will ruin her own chances. For if Anne will not accept fifty thousand pounds, she may well be forced to take much less, and if that is the case, grants to the Churchills will necessarily be clipped.”

“What a pass it is,” said William angrily, “when a man and his wife hold the country up to ransom in this way.”

“How did it ever happen?”

“A clever pair one has to admit. He the brilliant soldier-adventurer, she the controller of the heir presumptive.”

“Barbara shall speak to her without delay,” said Elizabeth, giving him her slow fascinating smile. “It is ridiculous that with all your responsibilities you should be troubled with such a matter.”

“So you see,”
said Lady Fitzharding, “it would be folly not to take what is offered, for if it is withdrawn that amount might not be offered again.”

“A paltry fifty thousand pounds!” cried Sarah disgustedly.

“You call that paltry?”

“Yes, Barbara Fitzharding, I do, when it is offered to the heir of England.”

“Don’t be foolish, Sarah. Don’t you see what trouble
you
may be in if you persist in this quarrel, because we all know it is your quarrel rather than that of the Princess Anne. Do not forget that you are setting yourself against the King and Queen.”

“I would rather die than sacrifice the Princess!” declared Sarah.

Barbara smiled and although Sarah had a desire to slap the smile off that silly Villiers’ face, she desisted.

“Shrewsbury will come to the Princess to make the formal offer of fifty thousand pounds from the King,” went on Barbara.

“And I shall be with the Princess to offer her my support when he comes.”

She was true to her word, and when the Earl of Shrewsbury arrived was in her mistress’s company.

“It is a private matter, Your Highness.”

“All my affairs are known to the Countess of Marlborough,” replied Anne.

Shrewsbury had no alternative but to accept Sarah’s presence.

“His Majesty says that if Your Highness will refrain from soliciting Parliament he will personally guarantee you fifty thousand pounds a year.”

Anne looked at Sarah who burst out: “And what if the King should not keep his word?”

Shrewsbury looked at her in astonishment while Anne’s admiration for her friend’s boldness was apparent.

Anne knew what she had to say: and said it. “The affair is now before Parliament and events must take their course.”

When William heard the result of the interview he was furious with Anne, but did not show it. Instead he summoned his ministers and said he would be happy to accept their will in this matter of the Princess Anne’s allowance; at which Anne was voted her fifty thousand pounds.

“Let that be an end to this unfortunate matter,” said William.

Mary, who could
not let the matter rest, sent for her sister.

When they were alone she burst out: “I cannot understand how you could have behaved so to the King!”

“What cannot you understand?” asked Anne.

“I know what took place at that interview with Shrewsbury. You implied that you would not trust William. I suppose that harpy of yours is behind this.”

“I know of no harpy.”

“Then it is a pity you cannot see more clearly what is obvious to everyone else. I would like to know when the King has ever shown anything but kindness to you.”

Anne was silent.

“Answer me,” insisted Mary.

“I do not know what you want me to say. All I know is that I have been less happy since our father went away.”

“
You
to talk like that! Have you forgotten what you used to write to me when I was in Holland?”

“I only know that I was not treated thus by our father.”

“I am ashamed of you … ashamed and surprised.”

Anne did not answer.

Her silence maddened Mary, but when Anne had gone the Queen wept a little. She had so looked forward to a return of the old friendship. What had happened to her dear little sister who had so looked up to her and admired her.

She thought angrily: Sarah Churchill has happened to her. How I loathe that woman!

Anne was dining
at the royal table. This was one of William’s economies; he had ordained that the Princess Anne, the Queen and King must not keep separate tables; it was an extravagance.

It was no great pleasure to dine at the King’s table. He said little and never addressed a word even to those who served him. The Queen would have liked a little gaiety—some amusing conversation, a little music and afterward, dancing. But she conformed in every way to the King’s desire and was almost as silent as he was.

How different it had been in the days of Uncle Charles! thought Anne. And even in our father’s day.…

Then her eyes sparkled for a servant had set a dish of green peas on the table. Green peas! the first of the year which always tasted the best.

Anne’s mouth was watering. She loved her food and more especially during pregnancies.

She could not stop looking at the peas. Mary could not eat them; they were bad for her; and William was a poor eater. There were not a great many; she would eat the lot and it would be no use asking for more for it was too early yet and these would be all that were ready for serving.

The Queen had shaken her head at the dish. Now it was Anne’s turn. Anne leaned forward; but just as she did so William stretched out a hand and drew the dish toward him, and under Anne’s agonized eyes ate the lot without even asking her to have a few.

Beast! thought Anne. Uncouth swine! Dutch abortion. Caliban! Was there ever such a King? He belonged more in a swineherd’s hut than in a palace.

She was quaking with rage when she returned to her own apartments for although most things did not rouse her from her lethargy, food could.

Sarah came to her and demanded what fresh insult she had been forced to endure.

Anne told the story, her eyes glistening; she could see those peas, smell them, remember the flavor of past peas; she could see them now disappearing into that ugly twisted mouth.

“And he ate them as though he did not care what he was eating.”

“Of course he did not care. He only wanted to keep them from you.”

“I hate him!” said Anne vehemently.

“Oh, dear Mrs. Morley, he will not always be with us. Let us think of the bright future when he is gone. That will be the greatest day of my life when we crown Queen Anne.”

It was pleasant to contemplate but Anne’s mind was still clouded with the thought of green peas.

Sarah saw this and had the gardens and forcing houses searched in the hope of finding some that might be found and cooked for the Princess; but none were to be had.

Anne could only ease her disappointed palate by going over and over the list of his sins with Sarah, and from that day she hated him and was ready to follow wholeheartedly in any scheme against him.

AT THE PLAYHOUSE

arah Churchill, thought Elizabeth Villiers
, had become one of the most important figures at Court and all because she had so fascinated the Princess Anne that she was allowed to manage her affairs completely. With anyone but Anne, Sarah would have had to use more subtle methods; that domineering know-all attitude would have had to be considerably subdued. But Anne was a stupid woman with an unnatural passion for the friend who was unlike her in every way. Sarah was not exactly beautiful, but was handsome with her magnificent fair hair and her extraordinary vitality. Anne had been pretty enough in an insipid way, but she was growing so fat that she looked much older than her years and of course the perpetual pregnancies had not helped her. She had turned to Sarah as one who was her opposite in every way; and even in their childhood days the sisters had had a great fondness for members of their own sex.

Sarah Churchill would have to be watched carefully.

Elizabeth Villiers’s own methods were quite different from Sarah’s; and yet there was a similarity, for as Sarah wished to influence Anne, so Elizabeth wished to influence William.

It had been a remarkable achievement to retain his attention all these years; he was a cold man, but between them there was a relationship which was enduring; they needed each other and to be the woman in William’s life who could give him exactly what he needed was a tribute to her brilliance.

She had wondered what her position would be in the household when she had accompanied Mary, as a reluctant bride, to Holland, for Mary had little love for her. They had spent much of their childhood together, but she had never been one of Mary’s selected friends. And then … she had seen the possibilities with William; and miraculously she had succeeded with him.

She must be ever watchful of rivals though; not that Mary was a rival. She would never be afraid of the Queen who was so quick to agree with her husband in every way—even though on one occasion she had, during William’s absence, sent her, Elizabeth, out of Holland with a letter addressed to the King, her father, asking him to keep her enemy there. Elizabeth had had some difficulty in returning to Holland, but she had; and after her spurt of independent action Mary had become the docile wife again.

Yet she need not be fearful of Mary when she was looking for a rival in William’s affection; she knew full well where the danger lay.