Queen Anne: The Politics of Passion

by Anne Somerset

  In the weeks following Harley’s dismissal, the Queen had forbidden Abigail to meet with him. On 17 April 1708 a dismayed Mrs Masham had written to him, ‘I am very uneasy, but my poor aunt [the Queen] will not consent to it yet … which gives me a great deal of trouble’. Three months later the Queen again prohibited Abigail from leaving Windsor to go and see Harley in London. On 21 July Abigail informed him in vexation, ‘I repent heartily my telling my aunt the reason why I desired to go, but did not question having leave’.36

  On both these occasions, Abigail proved ingenious in overcoming the restrictions placed on her by her mistress. In April she had written to Harley ‘I think it necessary for her service as well as my own for us to meet … [and] therefore have a mind to do it without her knowledge and so secret that [it] is impossible for anybody but ourselves to know it’. When detained at Windsor that July she had sent her brother to see Harley in London. She also corresponded with Harley, guarding against the danger of interception by employing a code that allowed them to pretend they were gossiping about family matters, when really they were discussing the political situation. In their private cipher system, the Queen featured as ‘Aunt Stephens’, Marlborough was ‘Cousin Nat Stephens’, Abigail ‘Cousin Kate Stephens’ and Harley ‘Cousin Robin Packer’.37

  By the summer of 1708, Mrs Masham was once again passing on some of Harley’s views to the Queen. On 21 July Abigail wrote to him, ‘I shall be very glad to have your opinion upon things that I may lay it before her, for that is all can be done’. As a result Harley sent her ‘papers’ and a ‘book’, probably written by him, that Abigail showed to Anne. Abigail later referred to him having offered the Queen ‘wise and good advice’, and while we do not know what this consisted of, it is safe to say that he would have urged the Queen not to give in to Junto demands. He may, however, have gone further, by seeking to make her resent her treatment at the hands of Marlborough and Godolphin. In a private paper jotted down in April 1708 he had demanded, ‘Do they not tear everyone from her who would treat her like a Queen or obey her? … It is now complained of that the Queen presumes to argue with her ministers’. The messages he relayed to Anne through Abigail are likely to have dwelt upon similar matters. Possibly, too, the papers and writings he sent to Anne at this point reproduced some of the arguments put forward in an unpublished tract entitled Plain English that Harley wrote in August 1708, and which savagely attacked the Marlboroughs and Godolphin for monopolising power and enriching themselves at national expense.38

  Harley and Abigail were frustrated that Anne was very guarded in her response. In July Abigail had ‘told her all’ the rumours she had heard concerning a new attempt by the Whigs to bring over the Elector of Hanover’s son to England, but she had been disappointed by the Queen’s reaction. ‘While she is hearing it, she is very melancholy, but says little to the matter’, she reported to Harley. Although the Queen did not forbid Abigail from putting across her point of view, she invariably heard her in silence and gave her no reason to think that she would act on her advice. While Marlborough and Godolphin’s correspondence from this period abounds with complaints that Anne was being extraordinarily stubborn and uncooperative, the letters of Abigail and Harley provide an almost comical contrast, for they lament that the Queen dare not defy her ministers, and attribute this to cowardice. On 21 July Abigail wailed to Harley, ‘Oh my poor aunt Stephens is to be pitied very much for they press her harder than ever … They come so fast upon her I have no hopes of her deliverance, for she will put it quite out of her friends’ power to save her’. Six days later Abigail repeated that she was ‘very much afraid of my aunt’s conduct in her affairs’, for in her opinion the want of courage Anne displayed ‘has made her make a most sad figure in the world’.39

  As yet Harley had established only the most tenuous link to the Queen, and his part in stiffening her resistance to her ministers was still limited. Anne herself was adamant that her rejection of her ministers’ advice owed nothing to outside interference, and that she was guided solely by her personal convictions. She pointed out that these were notable for their consistency, and in early August asked Marlborough to explain ‘why my not complying with some things … which you know I have ever been against, should be imputed to something extraordinary … especially since my thoughts are the same of the Whigs that ever they were from the time I have been capable of having notions of things and people.’ She expressed incredulity at ‘what I am told every day of my being influenced by Mr Harley, through a relation of his’, and declared categorically that there was ‘nobody but you and Lord Treasurer that I do advise with’. By that time this stretched the truth. For Harley, the door to power had now opened a chink, which he would do everything possible to widen.

  Sarah had not been exaggerating when she had told the Queen in one of her letters that Marlborough was deeply demoralised. As well as being worried by Anne’s intransigence over Whig appointments, he claimed that her threat to dismiss Sunderland had made him physically ill. He was despondent, too, to hear from his wife that the Queen appeared ‘fonder of [Abigail] than ever’, remarking gloomily that as long as that situation continued, ‘I am sure there can be no happiness’. To compound his depression, the military outlook was grim, for in late June the strategically important towns of Ghent and Bruges, in allied possession since 1706, voluntarily opened their gates to the French. Nevertheless, on 30 June/11 July Marlborough achieved another ‘great and signal victory’ when he thwarted an enemy attempt to capture the town of Oudenarde, taking a great risk by attacking before his whole army had crossed a river to reach the battlefield, but being vindicated by the triumphant outcome.40 The Duke would have liked to follow up the victory by making for Paris but deferred to advice from other allied commanders that this would leave his army exposed to an attack from the rear, and that first it was necessary to take the great fortress of Lille. In view of the town’s formidable defences, this posed a terrible challenge, and during the next four months allied casualties from the siege were three times greater than those incurred at the Battle of Oudenarde.

  The Queen wrote Marlborough a warm letter of congratulations on ‘your glorious success’, acknowledging ‘I can never say enough for all the great and faithful services you have ever done. But be so just as to believe I am as truly sensible of them as a grateful heart can be’. She went on that since her continued ‘esteem and friendship’ for him could hardly be in doubt, she trusted he did not think ‘that because I differ with you in some things, it is for want of either. No, I do assure you’. Plaintively she concluded, ‘If you were here, I am sure you would not think me so much in the wrong in some things as I fear you do now’.41 Contrary to her hopes, however, her current conduct met with nothing but his disapproval.

  At least he did not yet feel as bitter towards the Queen as his wife, whose virulent comments about Anne sometimes made him uneasy. He wrote to Sarah that while he was well aware that the Queen was being stubborn and unreasonable, ‘I own to you I have a tenderness for [her], being persuaded that it is the faults of those whom she loves and not her own when she does what is wrong’. Soon afterwards he declared, ‘I must never do anything that looks like flying in her face’ and a few weeks later he reiterated that he would always remain ‘personally respectful’ towards Anne. Meanwhile, he held Mrs Masham accountable for every flawed action of the Queen, telling his wife darkly, ‘Sooner or later we must have [the Queen] out of the hands of [Abigail], or everything will be labour in vain’.42

  The Queen had hoped that Marlborough would show some understanding for her point of view, but he disappointed her by writing on 12/23 July that, although he was prepared to go on serving her as a soldier, she left him with no alternative but to withdraw from all involvement in politics. He added that it seemed to him ‘you are obliged … as a good Christian to forgive and to have no more resentments to any particular person or party’, as the national interest made it imperative she accept the services of the Whigs. He had inserted th
is passage at the request of Godolphin and Sarah, but it was unwise of him to do so, for the Queen never took kindly to being lectured on her Christian duty. Even before she read these words, she felt that Marlborough owed her an apology for having written to his wife, immediately after Oudenarde, that Anne could derive great benefit from his victory, ‘if she will please to make use of it’. Sarah had shown the Queen this letter, hoping to make her ashamed, but Anne had merely been affronted.43 She had at once written to Marlborough, demanding an explanation, and complaining she had heard nothing from him on the subject of Sunderland’s dismissal. Receiving another reproving letter from her commander at this juncture simply riled her further.

  On 22 July she rejected the Duke’s offer to serve her as a general but not a minister, telling him peremptorily, ‘I shall always look upon you as both and … ask your advice in both capacities on all occasions’. Regarding his admonitions to be more magnanimous towards individuals who had offended her, she declared loftily, ‘I thank God I do forgive all my enemies with all my heart, but it is wholly impossible for human nature to forget people’s behaviour in things so fresh in one’s memory … especially when one sees, for all their professions, they are still pursuing the same measures, and you may depend upon it they will always do so, for there is no washing a blackamoor white’. She roundly denied that this constituted a lack of charity on her part, for ‘I can never be convinced that Christianity requires me … to put myself entirely into the hands of any one party’. Her implacable response left Marlborough utterly downcast, confirming him in the view that the Tories ‘have got the heart and entire possession of [the Queen], which they will be able to maintain as long as [Abigail] has credit’.44

  The Queen’s letter to Marlborough had crossed with one from him to her, attributing the disparaging comment that had escaped him after Oudenarde to his distress at learning she intended to dismiss Sunderland. ‘I did flatter myself … nobody could have prevailed with you … to give me so great a mortification in the face of all Europe at a time when I was so zealously endeavouring to serve you at the hazard both of my reputation and of my blood’, he reproached her. Yet again he urged her to conform to Godolphin’s wishes, observing that ‘something very extraordinary’ must be at work to make her resist ‘the advice of those that have served you so long, faithfully and with success’.45 Responding to this on 6 August, the Queen vehemently repudiated the accusation of being governed by external influence. Marlborough’s only consolation was that she did at least agree that Sunderland could retain his place.

  By this time the Queen believed she had new grounds for displeasure with the Whigs. On 21 July she had granted an audience to the maverick Tory peer Lord Haversham, a confirmed troublemaker who over the years had caused Marlborough and Godolphin many difficulties in Parliament. He had played a prominent part in the Tories’ 1705 attempt to bring the Electress Sophia to England, but now he saw nothing incongruous about denouncing his political adversaries for wanting to do something similar. Well aware of the inflammatory effect, Haversham revealed to Anne that the Whigs were talking of inviting Sophia’s grandson, the Electoral Prince of Hanover, to take up residence in the country.

  Earlier in the year false rumours had swirled about, suggesting that Marlborough wanted a member of the Electoral family to settle in England. Godolphin had urged the Queen to pay no attention to this ‘ridiculous and preposterous story’, which he was sure originated in lies spread by Harley. Unfortunately the Whigs believed the reports and, since they did not want Marlborough to ‘run away with the credit of so popular a thing’, they tried to pre-empt him by making approaches of their own to Hanover. The Queen was appalled when Haversham alerted her to these intrigues, and decided that it was up to Marlborough to sort out the problem. The day after Haversham’s audience, she wrote to remind Marlborough that she would regard any attempt to invite one of her successors to England as an act of unforgivable malice. While stressing that she knew Marlborough was in no way to blame, she warned fiercely ‘If this matter should be brought into Parliament, whoever proposed it, whether Whig or Tory, I should look on neither of them as my friends’. She asked him to convey to his contacts in Hanover that they must shut their ears to overtures from England, as she would never grant permission for the Prince to visit. If the young man was so rash as to arrive unsanctioned, she would have no hesitation in turning him away, ‘it being a thing I cannot bear to have any successor here, though it were but for a week’.46

  The Duchess of Marlborough was maddened to learn that Anne had given Haversham a hearing, and her temper grew wilder still when she discovered that, after seeing the Queen, he had had a discussion with Abigail. Her fury clouded her judgement and led her to commit an irreparable error. Back in April, Arthur Maynwaring had remarked to her that it should be easy to undermine the Queen’s affection for Abigail, as ‘an inclination that is shameful’ soon ‘wears itself away … A good ridicule has often gone a good way in doing a business’. In the intervening weeks Maynwaring had busied himself producing material that could be used for this purpose, and which he had printed and put in circulation. One of these works was a ballad set to the tune of ‘Lilliburlero’, a song that had stirred up feeling against James II at the time of the Glorious Revolution. Comprising more than thirty verses, Maynwaring’s ballad vilified that ‘proud, ungrateful bitch’ Abigail, and condemned her intrigues with Harley, here termed ‘Machiavel’. More damagingly it also suggested that there was something unnatural about the Queen’s infatuation with her ‘slut of state’. The opening verses are as follows:

  When as Queen Anne of great renown

  Great Britain’s sceptre swayed

  Beside the Church she dearly loved

  A dirty chambermaid

  Oh! Abigail that was her name

  She starched and stitched full well

  But how she pierced this royal heart

  No mortal man can tell

  However, for sweet service done

  And causes of great weight

  Her royal mistress made her, Oh!

  A minister of state.

  Her Secretary she was not

  Because she could not write

  But had the conduct and the care

  Of some dark deeds at night.47

  Sarah would later accurately describe this as ‘an odious ballad’, claiming that when she saw it, ‘it troubled me very much … because it was very disagreeable and what I know to be a lie’. This was disgraceful hypocrisy, for in reality she had been delighted by this and another ditty, probably also penned by Maynwaring, entitled Masham Display’d. Far from being upset by their content, Sarah did all she could to bring them to the attention of friends. On 18 July she had written to the Lord Chancellor’s mother, a neighbour of hers in Hertfordshire, saying that she looked forward to performing for her benefit ‘two ballads of the Battle of Abigail. I can sing them most rarely’.48

  After hearing of Haversham’s visit, the Duchess decided to take things a stage further and show them to the Queen. She maintained that she felt this to be her duty as ‘the town and country are full of them’,49 but her real aim was to shame Anne into cutting ties with Abigail. As she had hoped, the Queen was devastated when she read these coarse lampoons, and muttered something about her reputation being of paramount importance. Pleased at this, the Duchess soon afterwards sent her a prose tract, again thought to be the work of Maynwaring, called The Rival Dutchess. This took the form of an imaginary conversation between Abigail and Louis XIV’s morganatic wife, Madame de Maintenon. From the dialogue it emerges that Abigail is in the service of France, and it is also insinuated that she has lesbian inclinations.

  Delighted that Anne was so badly shaken, Sarah wrote to her on 27 July, observing that her affinity with Abigail made it inevitable that the Queen would receive ‘many affronts’ of this kind. She prophesied that the attacks would become more savage, for though at the moment ‘people only laugh at a queen’s forsaking her old servants for such a f
avourite’, once Marlborough and Godolphin were forced to quit on Abigail’s account, Mrs Masham’s ‘charming person’ would be ‘pulled in pieces’. Relentlessly the Duchess persisted that if Abigail ‘had no influence upon your affairs … there is no doubt but you might … quietly enjoy that inestimable blessing till you were tired of it’, but, since she encouraged the Queen to resist her ministers’ advice, ‘’tis certain your people will not bear patiently the ills that arise from such a passion’.50

  As for the concern the Queen had expressed for her reputation, Sarah professed herself puzzled, for it ‘surprised me very much that your Majesty should so soon mention that word after having discovered so great a passion for such a woman. I’m sure there can be no great reputation in a thing so strange and unaccountable, to say no more of it, nor can I think the having no inclination for any but of one’s own sex is enough to maintain such a character as I wish may still be yours’.51

  When asked to explain why she had definitively turned against the Duchess of Marlborough, the Queen would describe her principal transgression as ‘saying shocking things’ to her and about her. There can be no doubt that Sarah’s implying that Anne and Abigail had a lesbian relationship constituted the worst of her offences in the Queen’s eyes. Indeed, Sarah herself would later remind the Queen that when she had pressed her to tell her what faults she had committed, the ‘only crime’ Anne cited against her was her belief that the Queen ‘had such an intimacy with Masham’.52