Royal Sisters: The Story of the Daughters of James II (13 page)

He thought that she was getting far too fat; of course she was pregnant as usual, but in view of her miscarriages and the children who had not lived Rochester wondered whether she was healthy enough to bear strong children.

The youthful pink of her cheeks was deepening; she was far too fleshy. And who could wonder at it? Even now there was a plate of sweets at her elbow and her beautiful plump ringed hands were reaching for one automatically. The Hydes had always been either drinkers or eaters; there was no doubt from which side of the family she had inherited that tendency. He himself was a drinker. With the Stuarts it was women; with the Hydes food and drink. Rochester had always thought the Hyde indulgence the less dangerous, but he was suddenly not so sure.

He glanced at Sarah Churchill, who met his gaze defiantly and seated herself on a tabouret close to her mistress.

“What I have to say to you is for your ears alone,” he told Anne.

“Lady Churchill has my complete confidence.”

Sarah was smiling at him smugly. But he was not going to discuss these matters before a third party. He said with dignity: “I see I must call again when Your Highness is free to see me alone.”

Anne looked alarmed. “Is it so important then?”

“All the more reason …” began Sarah.

Rochester put in: “I will call again,” and he rose.

But Anne’s curiosity was great.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Lady Churchill will not mind in the least.”

Lady Churchill flushed slightly, but Anne went on firmly: “Leave me with my uncle, dear Lady Churchill, and come back later.”

Incidents like this made Sarah so furious that she could scarcely control her rage; Rochester saw this, and thought: The sooner my niece is free of that virago, the better. If she dared she would insist that they change places and she be the mistress.

However, there was nothing Sarah could do, so she walked to the door, head erect, disapproval in every line of her comely figure.

Rochester wondered at which door she would be listening.

“Now, uncle,” Anne prompted placidly.

“A very unpleasant subject, I fear. You are deeply in debt again.”

“Oh, that!” said Anne.

“This time to the tune of seven thousand pounds. A fortune, you will see.”

“But I cannot understand it.”

“You have been losing heavily at cards lately, perhaps. And you are doubtless too generous to … your friends.” He glanced at the door by which Sarah had just left.

“But seven thousand pounds!”

“Which, I fear, has been outstanding for some time; your debts will have to be settled soon or there will be a scandal.”

“But where can I find seven thousand pounds?”

“That is a problem to which you will have to give your thoughts until you find the solution.”

Anne’s jowls were quivering; she was seriously put out. Debts it seemed there must be. But so much—this was incredible.

“Money,” she said plaintively, “is so tiresome. There is never enough of it.”

“Yet there is no one in the kingdom who would not agree that Your Highness, due to your father’s generosity, is more lavishly supplied with this tiresome article than most of us.”

She disliked him; he was not being helpful; he was criticizing her and she hated to be criticized.

“Very well,” she said haughtily. “I suppose I must thank you for bringing this matter to my notice. The debts shall be paid.”

When he left her, dismay replaced her arrogance.

Where was she going to find seven thousand pounds?

Then she knew, for all her life there had been one who had never failed her.

Anne was sitting
idly with Sarah and Barbara Fitzharding when there was commotion outside her apartment. A page looked in.

“The King is here,” he said.

“The King!” cried Anne. “Oh, yes. I told him I was in trouble. You had better leave me.”

Sarah who was determined to hear what took place between the King and his daughter, signed to Barbara and, pushing her into a cupboard, shut the door on them.

“But why …” began Barbara.

“Hush!” commanded Sarah, and at that moment James entered his daughter’s apartment.

“My dearest Anne,” said the King, taking his daughter into his arms. “Dear Father, it is good of you to come.”

“And you are well, and taking good care of yourself? You must now, you know.”

“Oh, yes, but I am so upset.”

“You must tell me all about it.”

“Uncle Rochester has been telling me I owe seven thousand pounds.”

“Seven thousand pounds!” cried James. “It is not possible!”

“That’s what I tell him.”

“But if he says so, it must be. My dear daughter, it is not the first time you have been heavily in debt. But seven thousand pounds!”

Anne began to weep quietly.

“There now,” went on the King, “you must not distress yourself. It is not good in your state. I will pay the seven thousand pounds.”

“You are a good father to me!”

“You are my dearest daughter. Now that Mary seems so far away, and how can I know …” The tears were in his eyes. “I fear her husband has come between us and we are not good friends as we used to be. But it is different with you. You are my dear daughter and nothing shall come between us. George is a good husband and if you are happy with him that is all I shall ever ask of him. Now you are no longer worried about this money?”

“No, Father.”

“But I must speak to you on this matter very seriously, my dear. You must consider your expenditure in the future. Do not bet so recklessly with the cards; and I know that you are far too generous with those about you. Your heart is too soft, my dear. Those who serve you should be content enough to do so. They have well-paid posts and many advantages, which I fancy they are not slow to take. There is no need for you to shower gifts on them. It is no wonder that my dearest daughter cannot pay her debts when she gives so much away.”

She embraced him and thanked him.

Now, he told her, she must put all unpleasant matters from her mind; she must forget this wretched seven thousand pounds which he would take care of. But in the future, to please him, and for her own sake, she must promise to be more careful.

“I promise, dear Father,” she answered.

He would have liked to linger, to talk of her health and the old days when she and her sister Mary had played together with him and their mother. Anne had heard too much of those days and now that he had promised to take care of the debt, she was anxious to be rid of him; but she was touched by his goodness and she was sincere when she told him he was a good father to her.

As soon as he had gone Sarah and Barbara Fitzharding burst out of the cupboard.

“So,” cried Sarah, “Mansell has come to the rescue, and so he should. He has plenty.”

“He is a good father,” said Anne placidly.

“Over ready to tell you what you should do!” commented Sarah. “There are some who say he should look to his own conduct. The Sedley woman who now calls herself Countess of Dorchester will soon be back to make more scandal, I’ll swear. Then Mr. Mansell might more profitably give
himself
some good advice.”

Sarah was angry with the King. The gifts Anne bestowed on her were very welcome and she and John were becoming rich. Surely people like herself and John should be rewarded for all they did.

“The real villain,” she went on, “is your uncle, that old rascal Rochester.”

She would never forgive him for more or less ordering her from the apartment.

Rochester had resigned
from the Treasury. He could not serve under James because he could see that gradually the King was introducing Catholics into the most important posts. Robert Spencer, Earl of Sunderland, took his place.

It was characteristic of James that he should have allowed his good friend and brother-in-law to be ousted by a man like Sunderland.

Rochester deplored the King’s Catholicism, but at the same time he believed that James was the rightful heir and would have done everything in his power to keep him on the throne. It was true that Rochester had tried to use Catherine Sedley to break the Queen’s influence with James, but he had been convinced that by favoring Catholics the King was bringing himself closer to disaster.

Sunderland had let James believe that he had become converted to Catholicism, but he was a schemer by nature and in fact was in close touch with William and Mary by means of his wife, who corresponded with the Princess of Orange frequently, letting her know all that she could discover of what was happening at the English Court.

Sunderland’s great plan was to alienate James from the Hydes—Lord Clarendon who had been sent to Ireland and Lord Rochester who had been the Lord Treasurer—and this he did through the Queen. The result was that not only was Rochester impelled to resign his office but Clarendon was recalled from Ireland.

Thus James continued to lose his friends and surround himself with fickle friends, many of whom were waiting for the moment to destroy him.

Now that Sunderland
was Lord Treasurer and as such concerned himself with the Princess’s expenditure, which still exceeded that of her income, Sarah turned her venom against him.

It was only right, she said, that the Princess of Orange should know what a snake he was, and who could keep her sister informed of what was going on in London as clearly as Anne.

So carefully had Sunderland cloaked his true motives that the Cockpit was unaware that he was really working for the same cause as they were: the deposing of James and the setting up of Mary in his place.

Anne had hoped to visit The Hague during the following spring but James, being unsure of his son-in-law and a little anxious on account of his daughter’s health, for he was convinced her miscarriages must have enfeebled her, told her that she must postpone all thoughts of the visit for a while.

Anne pretended to be more angry than she was, for secretly she was not anxious to undergo the discomforts of the journey; but, nevertheless, with Sarah’s help she wrote a venomous letter to her sister.

I am denied the satisfaction of seeing you, my dearest sister, this spring though the King gave me leave when I first asked it. I impute this to Lord Sunderland, for the King trusts him with everything, and, he, going on so fiercely in the interests of the papists, is afraid you should be told a true character of him.…

Sarah sat beside her and nodded her approval.

“You should elaborate a little on that, Mrs. Morley, for I am of the opinion that the Princess of Orange should be warned of this man.”

Anne took up her pen and continued:

You may remember I have once before ventured to tell you that I thought my Lord Sunderland a very ill man, and I am more confirmed every day in that opinion. Everyone knows how often this man turned backward and forward in the late King’s time, and now to complete all his virtues he is working with all his might to bring in popery. He is perpetually with the priests, and stirs up the King to do things faster than I believe he would himself.

“That,” said Sarah, with a chuckle, “should warn them. Caliban will be in no mood to tolerate the fellow when he hears of that. But you should tell them of how he hears mass, for instance.”