by Ron Pearse
Taken somewhat aback by the colonel's frankness, Harley could only concur: "If you like, colonel." Yet he wanted to know Masham's mind and asked him outright:
"Would you like time to dwell on the matter, colonel?"
Masham said in reply: "When you asked me to call on you, Mr Harley, I somewhat naively believed that perhaps I might raise the question of an appointment or some sort of employment."
Harley said: "Appointments in the P-palace are not in my gift, at p-present. That is the p-prerogative of the lord treasurer. As in the Army colonel these appointments are in great demand and often go to the highest bidder. It was a p-policy of the late King that he would not appoint anybody without a private income."
"A pauper then would be unlikely to be appointed as a page." asked Masham.
Harley smiled enjoying a recollection and now shared it with Masham:
"Unless his sponsor was Lady Churchill. You are thinking of Hill, no doubt."
"The lady was hardly a favourite with William especially after he sent her husband to the Tower." said Masham emphatically.
"Once the lady had obtained Queen Anne's approval, she was then just the p-princess, you understand,” Harley paused in admiration, adding: “she sent Hill's p-papers to Sir B-benjamin, the treasurer, as if they had just arrived from the king, who lived in Whitehall at the time. It was a neat manoeuvre worthy of her husband."
Masham whistled in admiration: "I gave Hill a lot of stick at the time I do confess, but it was water off a duck's back." Masham looked directly at Harley and said: "Lady Churchill offered me an appointment."
"Oh!" said Harley interested, "In St James Palace?"
"At Holywell House, her residence at the time in St. Albans."
Harley looked intrigued but laughed with Masham when he said:
"As the official door-opener; she thought I had especial gifts in that direction."
"Doubtless her ladyship would expect a high p-premium for such a distinguished situation." Harley's drollery clearly had an edge as if he too had been the object of Lady Churchill's scorn and Masham tried to comfort him by saying:
"We can thank our lucky stars, Mr Harley, that the Levellers in Cromwell's day never enacted representation in Parliament for women to be members."
"They would surely gain an unfair advantage. Lady Churchill already leads the lord Godolphin by the nose. Were she in P-parliament, I dread to think what measures she would introduce." Harley tapped his nose conspiratorially, leaned over and almost whispered: "Eh, colonel!"
Masham took his cue and told him of something he would like to enact whether proposed by man or woman:
"One of the gross iniquities that should be ended, Mr Harley is the business of purchasing commissions. From personal experience there are officers that disgrace the uniform they wear, and they are there only because of the depth of their father's pocket."
"Throwing stones in glass houses, colonel! Tch, tch!" Harley was smiling but Masham took his point: "You're right. I was so favoured, though it landed my father in enormous debt. My sisters suffered as a result. This is the reason, the real reason, I'm here. To seek an appointment, otherwise it's back to the army for me."
Masham's very innocence put Harley in a panic. That chance remark made Harley realise that his plans might have come to nought and he started thinking furiously of some way of keeping the colonel in the country. What he had just heard brought him up short. He had believed, had been led to believe Masham was a gentleman of means. He said confidingly to him:
"I'm glad you mentioned that, my dear colonel. I had nearly forgotten," he lied, "this was what this interview was all about, to sound you out for a p-possible appointment. He picked up a document on his desk and handing it over to Masham, said:
"Take a read of that colonel. It's alright, there's nothing confidential about it. It's one of many compiled by the clerks at Westminster. It's p-produced by a so-called gentleman by the name of Hansard. It's a verbatim account of p-proceedings in the House and such copies land regularly into my office. If you will b-be so kind as to run your eye over it!"
Masham did so and then raising his eyes, said: "If soldiers spoke in these terms, Mister Harley, I doubt anything would get done. I've read one whole side of the sheet and confess I am as ignorant as when I started."
"You'll get accustomed to it, colonel. It is account of p-proceedings in the House. P-pray continue."
Masham did so and handed it back and Harley went on to explain what he wanted Masham to do:
"The task would be to copy out those p-proceedings which concern my office as Secretary of State for Northern Europe. To b-begin with I would suggest we visit the House."
"That sounds reasonable. I would be allowed into the House?" asked Masham and Harley assented telling Masham there was a gallery overlooking the Chamber for visitors. He went to say:
"It will take some time to get to know our ways, colonel, but the compensation will be your attending the P-palace to furnish your reports. Do you play cards, colonel?"
"I learned to Mr Harley. I discovered a certain skill at Ombre stood me in good stead in paying my mess bills. But you have surely no such need in the Palace."
"On the contrary, colonel! Perhaps no mess b-bills but her majesty will often call me in to supply a missing hand. Being an indifferent p-player, she will no doubt be thrilled to learn there is a worthy p-player within earshot."
Masham eyed him with some circumspection saying:
If you'll recall Mr Harley, in the space of the last hour, you have cast me in the role of suitor, next I am to report upon parliamentary proceedings and finally you have suggested the way to a queen's heart is a thirteen card suit of that colour. It seems to me the lord Godolphin knew what he was about when he offered you your position. I have been both moved and shaken, Mr Harley, which is indeed what is required surely of a mover and shaker."
Harley smiled broadly: "You're very kind, colonel. Yet, a report reaching me says that your distinction puts anything I might have achieved firmly in the shade. I am referring to your distinguished service at B-blenheim. Yet I would just mention that her majesty is getting weary of the war. It's not a woman's thing, after all. Sotto voce, is the watchword."
Masham said: "And Mistress Hill, does she share that sentiment?"
"Ah, colonel! The praise for you reaching lord Godolphin was singularly lacking for her brother, captain Hill."
"Captain Hill!" said Masham surprised, "He was a lieutenant when last we met."
"Ah! Have you not heard! Hill has b-bought Captain Stanhope's regiment when Stanhope was sent to Spain by the duke. I must tell you it was b-bought for him by her majesty for a service rendered by his sister, Mistress Hill."
Masham was stunned. Yet things were beginning to fall into place. He glanced up at Harley and his look was of admiration though he said nothing. Harley said:
"We have spoken enough, colonel. Allow me to invite you to my favourite coffee house near here. I'll give you a taste of Jonathon's. It may b-become one of your favourite meeting p-places in the next few months as it is also p-popular with members of p-parliament.
Masham accepted the invitation offering his hand: "Your hand in mine, sir. Henceforth let your address to me be Masham or Samuel. The 'colonel' is history."
"Capital," responded Harley: "My hand, Samuel. Call me Robin!"
The two men walked from the office into the street and proceeded to follow their noses as the aromatic waft of coffee assailed their nostrils.
Chapter 9
Sarah, the Duchess of Marlborough loved her garden in the village of Bladon where she was renting a cottage to be near Woodstock, a former royal manor formerly owned by the queen which she surrendered for the purpose of erecting a castle to commemorate the victory at Blenheim. Parliament had duly voted the sum of £25,000 at the queen's behest, an architect had been engaged and the work of buiding started. The duchess saw it as her duty and responsibility to oversee the work being suspicious of the architect selected
who was was more renowned as a playwright and in consequence of this wish moved from St Albans to the village of Bladon.
It was to Bladon that visitors had to travel in order to consult with her for although women were not admitted to either House of Parliament, they could still play a significant part in politics. As soon as she had discovered a local basket weaver, it was not long before she had commissioned several garden chairs and it was to such a comfortable seat in basket-weave that her friend and mentor, Lord Godolphin, was shown on a day in September, of the year, 1706.
He had lately been summoned to the queen's presence at St Jame's Palace regarding the proposed appointment of Charles Spencer, Earl of Sunderland, to the position of plenipotentiary ambassador to the imperial court in Vienna. At the time he was twenty-three which the queen thought too young but Lord Godolphin over a period of several weeks had deduced the queen's real objection was his membership of a group of lords, a cabal, which she saw as inimical to her policy of political independence.
It was this political independence which bothered Sarah, her closest friend, as she, the Duchess of Marlborough, found it difficult to distinguish between these close personal ties and, to the queen, the good of the nation. Her invitation to Godolphin was partly to see what arguments might be brought to bear to change the queen's mind. As her principal advisor, the queen's lord treasurer, Godolphin's argument was that Sunderland was the best person for the job yet latter's history of espousing the republican cause had not improved his chances.
Godolphin knew that the duchess was aware of the queen's antipathy yet the diplomat in him was always surprised by his friend's combative tone:
"Is the queen agreeable to Lord Sunderland's appointment?"
The duchess' direct question flummoxed Godolphin somewhat accustomed as he was to the oblique phraseology of politicians in the House though unlike in Parliament he was at ease and he appreciated his hostess’ considerate placing of his chair on the lawn in the shade and out of the direct sunlight. He was sure too that the coming meal would be eminently appetising and so in contemplation of joys to come and relaxing in the peaceful environment of this beautiful garden, Godolphin opened his eyes and looking at her directly he replied:
"My latest appeal to reason seemed to disturb and grieve her majesty, who saw fit to repeat the familiar arguments against your son-in-law's appointment."
Sarah in her turn relaxed, leaning back in her comfortable seat and idly sucking a stalk of tall marram grass adjusted her cushion pleased with her decision to discard the bustled gown for a shift, did not open her eyes but pressed Godolphin:
"I'm still listening, Sidney. That's not all, is it!"
It was all. Godolphin threw up his hands in a gesture of innocence, but he did add:
"When her majesty realised her repetition of these arguments was making no impression on me." He stopped unsure how to carry on, then added: "After all, your ladyship, I have heard them from her majesty so many times now."
"Well!" said she compelling Godolphin to an explanation he was reluctant to give, but sighing deeply, he admitted:
"The poor woman burst into a passion of weeping and I must confess."
The duchess was forceful, if a little harsh: "Spare me your confession, dear Sidney, then with a deprecatory chuckle, she muttered at her friend:
"You men!"
Godolphin squirmed but said nothing more either about the queen or in his defence and Sarah realising it got up from the chair and began to pace the lawn, before finally exploding:
"So, Mrs Morley touched the lord high treasurer's heart." She shook her head at him and Godolphin was silent knowing the lecture to come. She said:
"How well she plays that tune. May heaven be your guard should you threaten to resign."
He looked towards her having to turn his head to do so as she was still pacing the lawn and said: "You can do that once too often."
Sarah was slightly puzzled: "Do what, Sidney?"
"Resign!" he answered, "She doesn't take me seriously any more. This time I told her that unless she takes the advice of her chief minister, there is little point in continuing in her service."
Sarah stopped walking and looked at Godolphin and thought that the queen had only to take out a handkerchief and plead and Godolphin's resistance would melt. She said attempting to mimic:
For God Almighty's sake, never leave me!"
Godolphin opened his eyes: "Word perfect." He said adding, "But you haven't been with her majesty lately, your ladyship. There is something different about her responses. I do believe her majesty is taking advice from someone, but I cannot fathom who it might be."
She stopped and stared but said nothing, unusual for her, and in the silence he went on: "Tis a pity you are not there, dear Sarah. You might get to the bottom of it because I suspect there is somebody influencing her majesty and I've racked my brains and cannot determine who it might be. Might you make any suggestions!"
She was wary of her friend's foibles and his use of her first name, which he rarely used, though free to do so, was an admission of some kind as this perfect diplomat preferred to address her formally even on informal occasions, such as their talk in the garden here. Her nose had caught the aroma of the kitchen and seeing the servants to-ing and fro-ing with their dinner, she excused herself to hurry the arrangements along as she had suddenly an appetite.
She had scarcely crossed the threshold when cook met her to say dinner was indeed ready. Godolphin heard the cook and did not wait for a formal summons. As they waited to be served, Godolphin said tersely:
"I'm not sure which of the Sunderlands, her majesty dislikes the more. You know how his father thought of the princess, as she then was." He stopped as a servant appeared, waiting until she was gone, before adding:
“I fear her odium for Sunderland senior has much to do with it."
Godolphin acted the host insisting the duchess sit before he would take his place. Neither spoke as the wine was decanted. The duchess proposed a toast:
"To my dear lord, somewhere in Flanders!" and Godolphin echoed it saying: "To the duke, wherever he may be."
Then replacing their glasses both were about to start eating when Godolphin lifted his knife and fork to examine them in its pristine gleam and the Duchess commented: "There isn't much which you don't notice, my lord. From Louis' court itself, so I'm told; a gift to his uncle from the Duke of Berwick, now leading a French army."
Godolphin said: "They're so much better wrought than our own rustic implements. Although the new Minister for War, Henry St John, tells me all this is about to change as Huegenot manufactories are established in and around London. He promises that I shall be able to see people clearly when I look out of the newly refurbished windows of the new Kensington House."
Sarah listened with rapt attention as perhaps this might bear upon Blenheim, commenting: "What do you see now, my lord?"
"Why! What everybody sees, distorted images so much so that my own friends have passed and I've not been able to recognise them."
Sarah was now intrigued as never before: "I do recall when we rebuilt Holywell House, the whole interior opened up like a fountain of light. My lord commissioned Monsieur Van Houten from Delft hoping to remodel the house on the lines of houses he had seen in Holland."
"That's a problem living as we do in our green and pleasant island," said Godolphin, "we are unaware of the great changes taking place over the water."
Sarah laughed out loud: "My lord, must we go to war every so often so as to find out the latest fashions from the Continent. There must be another way." Then she stopped eating and stared at Godolphin, saying ruefully:
"You have the archest way to get away from a subject. To return to my lord Sunderland's father. It seems he criticised the Admiralty over the loss of some ships and the princess blamed him for it as at the time, her consort was lord high admiral."
Godolphin eyed his hostess appreciatively: "Her majesty need not have concerned herself as the loss of these s
hips occurred in William's reign. There was a convoy to Smyrna which the French captured with the loss of millions."
"I might have known money would be at the bottom of it." She replied.
Godolphin finished eating, took his serviette, patted his mouth complimenting his hostess on the soup, learning that it was jugged hare which he could indulge more often were he to visit the country more. Before replacing the serviette on the table he noticed the monogram, of a capital 'L' to which Sarah gave answer that it was contraband from the capture of a French fortress.
"But our friend did not do himself any favours with his republican sentiments," Godolphin said, adding: "That was even worse than confessing to Jacobite sympathies."
"Do you the honours, Stevens!" the hostess addressed the cook who had that moment brought in a joint of venison, placing it on a sideboard, while she herself picked up a decanter of Madeira, offering it to her companion, along with her own homilies:
"I'll tell you what is worse; it is being a cupboard Jacobite. We both know the Tories who pretend to support her majesty but secretly correspond with St Germain. Is that not treachery? Bad enough in time of peace but when our countrymen are losing their lives in the defence of the realm. It is treason."
"I thought the whole thing could have been resolved by a compromise, your ladyship," replied Godolphn putting down his knife and fork.
"Compromise!" exploded the duchess, "How can one compromise with these Jacobites!" Then noticing he was not eating, added considerately, "Are you not hungry, dear friend?"
He put his hand to his teeth saying ruefully: "I fear my teeth are not what they were." Then in response to her other point said: "About Sunderland there was a suggestion of compromise. The queen suggested he join the council in a non-executive position."
The duchess was scathing: "What you mean, dear friend is he'll have no office, and you can be sure no office will be found." Then almost without pause, she yelled: "Stevens!" the name of the cook whom she asked to clear away the plates, saying soothingly to Godolphin:
"You'll like the next course. It is all the fashion at supper parties and soirees it seems. It's called 'blanc mange' and will be kinder to your teeth."
