Abigail's Cousin

by Ron Pearse

  Another chill suffused his entire body as his glass picked up le Malbrouk himself, his white charger walking gently along the ranks of horse. He did not need to listen to what the duke was saying. He wished he had given himself enough time to address his own escadrons. He looked behind him. Villars had done well. He noted with satisfaction that each rider carried a special pistol for discharging the moment the enemy came with twenty yards. That would break the brunt of the enemy's charge.

  He watched as the enemy riders turned their mounts to the left and faced towards the enemy whom they could see opposite them. Did they know they were facing the Maison-du-Roi? His glass scanned the ranks and picked out General Churchill who had removed his sword. A bugle sounded and with one movement, each rider of the front rank held his sword in front. At the next bugle the front rank started moving forwards. How long was that front, a mile? Two miles? Villars knew that this engagement would decide the battle.

  He looked at the Maison-du-Roi, waiting. Then he heard the sound of hooves cantering slowly up the slight incline, then breaking into a trot. For a while the sound was steady then got louder and he not only heard but felt the imprint of thousands of hooves on the ground. Their pace increased until now their momentum was unstoppable. The ground reverberated; the thunder robbed the air of all other sounds, even those of cannon-fire.

  Then he heard the discharge of many pistols but saw not one rider fall, but heard a terrible whooping and metallic crash as the fast moving allied cavalry smashed into the enemy and then they were through. Many of the French riders had fallen and fewer of the allied, but at the sight of a second rank of horse bearing down upon them, the Maison-du-Roi lost their cohesion, turned and fled pursued by the allies whooping and slashing until a quiet had descended broken by a burst of cannonfire from Blentheim.

  Marshall Tallard knew it was the end. He saw a track and knew it led to the village of Sondersheim, far in the rear. Dispiritedly he took it. He knew the cavalry, both allied and French would end up at Hochstedt, two miles to the left on the banks of the Danube. Then they would make their way back. He knew not how long he had. Apart from the gunfire a deadly quiet reigned. He could even hear the rustle of trees.

  But it was not a moment to savour and the downcast head of his horse seemed to reflect his own mood. He saw the houses of Sondersheim and then heard the sound of laughing and cheering but did not try to escape the sound and was almost through the village when he allowed a dismounted rider with tankard in hand to catch hold of his horse's bridle, calling someone inside a tavern, coming face-to-face with a captain of cavalry who turned out to be aide-de-camp to the Prince of Hessen. He spoke excellent French:

  "Asseyez-vous, monsieur le marechal, je vous en prie!"

  Captain Beinenbourg immediately dispatched a rider to his commander while Marshal Tallard was glad to dismount and sit and enjoy a cooling tankard. He might have preferred champagne but would have to settle for ale.

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  In the meantime Prince Eugene launched a fifth attack on Oberglau and this time broke through helped by colonel Blood's intense barrage of fire against the defences of the village enabling the Prince, having requested the cessation of Blood's fire, to attack along a much wider front accompanied by musketeers which brought about many enemy casualties. There was fierce fighting for half an hour but Eugene's cavalry at last began to force back the Bavarians who now found themselves boxed in by the houses of the village that had been their strength. As the Savoyards gradually got the upper hand the Prince detected a lack of stomach and calling up his cavalry held as reserve, with a loud calling up of ancient heroes, the prince raised his sword and launched into a ferocious assault.

  The Prince was correct for suddenly the enemy lost heart and almost at a signal they turned their horses, spurring them furiously towards the rear, pursued by the Prince and his Savoyards to loud whoops. On and on they galloped, riding through and past a village (Lutzingen) and yet further until several miles another village was encountered, that of Morselingen. The Prince however sent his aide to his colleague to advise him of the breakthrough. The duke was doubly pleased for within half an hour, he was notified of Oberglau’s capture and that of the French commander-in-chief.

  When notified of the capture of le marechal Tallard, the duke asked Parker to fetch his carriage and not until its arrival from the allied camp did the duke make his way to Sondersheim accompanied by the Prince of Hessen who had brought him the news.

  Le marechal placed his sword in Marlborough’s hands and retired to the duke's carriage which had been placed at his disposal. John Churchill sat back in the carriage opposite Tallard feeling exhausted but elated. How would the folk back home in England view the war now, and then it occurred to him, and he rummaged in his pockets for a pencil which when found, he searched for his notepad, but could not find it. Instead the only pieces of paper in his pocket were the receipts for his tavern supper, the previous evening, but one.

  Doubling up his long military coat to provide a hard backing on which to write, he thought of Sarah, his wife, and it overwhelmed him, and thus it was to her that he penned this message. It read:

  "I have not time to say more, but to beg you will give my duty to the queen, and let her know her army has had a glorious victory. Monsieur le Marechal Tallard is in my coach, and I am following the rest. The bearer, my aide-de-camp Colonel Parker, will give her an account of what has passed."

  The duke looked out of the coach spotting lieutenant Rogers who was standing guard. He had only to raise his hand with the letter and Rogers was at the window. Excusing himself to his guest who sat with eyes closed in a sort of shock, the duke spoke to Rogers:

  "Do you think my lord Orkney will agree to your attachment as my aide-de-camp?" The young man was beside himself with joy and the duke added: "Your first task is to seek out Colonel Parker." The duke winked and was not disappointed by the lieutenant's reaction which was a broad grin and the assurance: "At once, your grace!"

  Meanwhile at Blentheim, General Churchill called a halt to the bombardment while Colonel Masham carrying a loud hailer while beside him a trooper holding a white flag aloft high into the air, approached the palisade and shouted calling for the person whom marshal Tallard had told Marlborough was the officer commanding in Blentheim. He told of the capture of their commanding officer and two other generals. He told of the capture of Oberglau. He told of the victory over the Maison-du-Roi by General Churchill.

  This last item of news seemed to dishearten the French commander who sent out a tirailleur carrying aloft a white flag. He approached Masham to tell him that the marquis Desnonville would leave the village under a flag of truce upon which Masham turned round to General Churchill to request his representative be sent in, and so parley negotiations took place.

  The upshot was the men were to leave the village without their muskets and the officers and any dragoons without their side-arms. In fact in an angry mood, the French soldiers made a fire and burnt all their standards to prevent their falling into enemy hands, because, in their opinion, they had not been defeated.

  By now it was late in the evening and the duke gave permission for fires to be lit and his army to bivouack on the field of battle. At first light the pioneers would be detailed to return to their camp for victuals. It was a great disappointment but counterbalanced by the elation of victory and the camp-fires were a-buzz with singing, laughing and talking far into the night.

  Chapter 8

  Robert Harley had been allocated a room within St. James Palace, the queen having found it increasingly inconvenient and time-consuming to summon him from Westminster. He was still a Member of Parliament and still had duties connected with the House of Commons but as Secretary of State, he felt more beholden to the monarch than to Westminster yet, as Lord Godolphin had pointed out, as ministers were obliged to consult both the queen and the Secretary of State, it was convenient for all parties that both were in on
e place.

  Yet there was another reason for his having accepted a room in the palace, he was in close proximity to his cousin, Mistress Abigail Hill, who served her majesty as a bedchamber-woman. She was becoming increasingly indispensible accompanying the queen everywhere she went, to Bath on the occasion of her regular cure, to Windsor, whither the queen went to comfort her consort, Prince George, or to various race-courses around London when the queen wanted to indulge her passion both for racing and for wagering on the results.On one particular occasion she visited Newmarket when her official duty actually took her to Cambridge for her honarary enrolment as rector though her real passion was to watch lord Godolphin's Arabian horses in action.

  Robert Harley entered Parliament as a country Whig yet he had come to realise that he had little in common with the Whigs already in government and especially the Whigs connected with the war then raging on the Continent. It was lord Godolphin who saw in Harley a great parliamentary fixer for pushing his financial bills through the House. He even owed his elevation as Secretary to him for although the queen did not demur when his name was put forward, as she had done in the case of Lord Sunderland, Harley knew the queen was also swayed by Godolphin's recommendation.

  He did not like owing favours. He did not like this war. He was ambitious and believed a man of his talent should sit in the House of Lords and saw a way of achieving his ambition. One obstacle was his politics. He could not form an anti-war party and be a Whig. The two were incompatible. Were he to become a Tory his chances of promotion would be higher as his cousin had told him that the queen showed more sympathy with that party because of its close association with the Church of England.

  Yet although the queen was a Tory she was also a woman. She was a woman prone to whims about people. It was her whim, as Godolphin and Lady Churchill saw it, to exclude Charles Spencer Sunderland recommended by Godolphin as envoy to Vienna. In another instance, Robert Harley put forward the name of Mathew Prior as an envoy to Europe but the queen demurred, her excuse being he was of 'mean extraction'.

  Now Robert Harley saw a way of gentle persuasion through his cousin Abigail Hill, through increasing her happiness and improving his chances of promotion he had set his mind to. When he heard a knock one afternoon, as he sat in his room and office, he smiled to himself as he called for the person to enter. He greeted his visitor:

  "Good day, colonel Masham. Come and b-be seated." The colonel returned the greeting accepting the proffered seat. Harley continued:

  "Please accept my heartfelt condolences upon the recent loss of your dear father." The colonel is very appreciative of these words and Harley can be sure that Masham means what he says:

  "Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Mr Harley. It was a little time ago yet I still feel bereft. Indeed I am quite at a loss."

  "I understand, my dear colonel. My father's loss greatly affected me and I still feel the p-pangs though it was years ago. Did I hear that you have left the army?"

  "Sadly, yes. My father's death was just one of the reasons. Perhaps I shall return at some later date. There was much to do concerned with my father's estate, as you doubtless appreciate."

  "You used the p-past tense, Colonel. Do I take it you are anxious to rejoin the ranks of those who needs must sweat for their advancement." Masham might, with justification, have given that thought some reproach thinking of how stripped to the waist he had helped colonel Blood place his cannon in position never having shed so much perspiration in his life, but he smiled at Harley noting:

  "Ably put Mr Harley." Flattery came easy to him and he tried a phrase to see how it went down: "My, my, sir! I've heard it said you're not easy to understand yet I could not have put it better myself."

  Masham had hit the right note for Harley smiled, placing his hands, thumbs uppermost, on his chest in preening mode:

  "We all have our days, colonel, and off-days, I daresay, especially when the latter coincide with those of my detractors. But I can see you're a man of keen wit and can sort the substance from the chaff. Have you had some thought as to your future?"

  It had been a surprise to Masham to receive this invitation for an interview. Yet it had come at a time when having dealt with his father's estate and having come to realise his future lay elsewhere, it occurred to him that perhaps his departure from the army had been premature. He could have asked for leave of absence but his father had so well-concealed the paucity of his estate, that Masham had built up a mental picture of becoming a country squire. That dream had turned to dust. He had travelled to London, to his former haunts, to St James Palace, his former place of employment, as much on the lookout for an opening as the possibility of a reunion with old friends and former colleagues.

  What a difference four years had made. His former master, prince George, no longer ran a large domestic circle or family, indeed, often he was not in permanent residence. He saw few people with whom he had been on good terms. One person who had had welcomed him was the sister of Lieutenant Hill, whom he, on first acquaintance, had unjustly despised, and then later, come to dislike although mistress Hill appeared not to have heard of their mutual antagonism, or, knowing of it, did not allow it to cast a shadow on their warm acquaintance.

  Harley seemed to read his thoughts which had flashed through his head appearing to carry on the conversation when he said:

  "Regarding your future, may a humble worm sensible of his weakness yet supported by the p-power of the wisdom which is from above..." Masham's own comment earlier returned and he smiled inwardly, listening as Harley went on, "may I venture to suggest a p-preliminary amendment may be at hand."

  The colonel looked puzzled but said nothing as Harley added: "With a lady, p-perhaps?" Masham still looked puzzled murmuring doubt: “Mmmm!” It was clear to Harley that he would need to put his thoughts somewhat clearer. Yet he had not been given the nickname 'the dragon' through mere drollery. As the Speaker in the House of Commons, unlike in today’s parliament, he was neutral, possessing a mediator role, especially between the monarch and parliament.

  The nickname arose out of his landowning background with the Harley family embroiled in wrangles over tithes satirised in a humorous ballad, 'The Dragon of Wantley' which tells of a Yorkshire dragon devouring children and cattle of those who did not pay their tithes.

  Harley expected the colonel's puzzlement construing it possibly as reticence though he never fully appreciated that other people did not necessarily place the same construction upon matters. He explained:

  "The lady in question, colonel, is a great favourite with her majesty, who p-places great confidence in her judgement even to being comptroller of the wagering fund when her majesty travels to Ascot or Newmarket. Are you a racing gentleman, colonel?"

  Masham was diffident: "My father liked to attend local meetings and whereas I interested myself in the bloodstock, he enjoyed betting upon racing results. Perhaps had I shared his predilection, I might not have been so shocked as to the smallness of his estate."

  Harley noted the last comment and stored it away simply commenting:

  "I daresay there is much in common between racing, p-perhaps I should say, hunting and your p-profession in the army, in the cavalry."

  Harley noticed the colonel's eyes seemed to sparkle at the mention of horse pursuits and Harley pursued the theme:

  "Her majesty loves hunting. It is a great passion for her. She drives through the Berkshire countryside at a furious pace. It sets my p-pulse racing just to watch her. As indeed it did to another lady."

  Masham's eyes narrowed asking innocently: "What lady is that, Mr Harley?"

  "Why, Mistress Hill colonel. I believe you are already acquainted with her."

  "Indeed Mr Harley, a fine and loyal woman. Her majesty is well served."

  Harley needed no more encouragement to embark upon his project. He leaned over confidingly:

  "Could you entertain the notion, colonel that your future happiness could b-be at one with the happiness of this fine and lo
yal woman."

  No obtuseness here, thought Masham. Now the purpose of the interview became clearer. The moment of truth occasioned him to experience an initial stammer and in anticipation could only murmur, "Mmmmmm' and Harley took it as encouraging adding:

  "Indeed colonel, your happiness and p-prospects could easily scale the extent of your hopes and expectations."

  Masham had entertained notions of inviting out one of the Hill sisters although until now it had been Alice that had occupied his thoughts and the perceptive Harley seemed to read his thoughts for he said:

  "Consider colonel. Mistress Alice has twenty-one years of age and fair but is beholden to her elder sister for whatever she hath or will have whereas Mistress Abigail is b-beholden only to her mistress, the queen, a very grateful queen." Harley paused looking at Masham intently before adding: "Your desires need be no less."

  In that cryptic addition of Harley's Masham believed he saw another meaning and chided himself for it, yet adopted a more aggressive attitude saying: "And what is your interest in all this Mr Harley?"

  "My interest, colonel, my interest!" He spread out his hands in despair that someone might dream of imputing a selfish intent, saying:

  "My interest is to b-bring about the happiness of two people made for each other. Simply that, colonel. B-b-believe me!"

  Masham could not help but smile though it was not overtly cynical though Harley might have doubted it hearing his next remark:

  "All the more so when one of the newly weds has the key to the b-backstairs entrance to the Palace."

  "And not just one newly wed, colonel, if you don't mind my anticipation."

  Masham said dryly: "I am happy if she's happy, and you're happy if she is happy." To which Harley smiled saying: "One happy family."

  "That would include her royal highness, I take it, Mr Harley!"