Complete triumph of the Whigs—Attempts made to bring Lord Sunderland
into the Cabinet—Scheme for insuring the Hanoverian succession—The
Queen’s resentment at that measure.—1705.
The gradual removal of the Tory party from the offices of state followed
the brilliant successes of the Duke’s arms. The privy seal was taken
from the Duke of Buckingham; and the Duchess also prevailed on the Queen
to remove from his office Sir Nathan Wright, Lord Chancellor, a man who
was obnoxious to all parties, and of “no use to the Crown.” The
celebrated Lord Cowper, distinguished for his abilities and integrity,
was appointed his successor.
Lord Somers, “seeing,” says Cunningham, “that the Whigs were now united
to the court, and fearing lest the principles of our ancestors should be
subverted,” retired from all public employments; yet still his powerful
mind swayed one of a less solid character. Lord Sunderland, an able, but
violent, and unpopular man, who would listen to no arguments but to
those of Somers, being in the prime of life, and a man of great
vigilance and activity,[55] was considered by the more determined Whigs,
and by the Duchess of Marlborough in particular, as qualified to play a
leading part in the royal councils. His opinions were no less
objectionable to the nation in general than to the Queen in particular;
and she long resisted the persuasions of her favourite, as well as of
the ministry, now wholly Whig, to appoint this nobleman one of her
secretaries of state in the room of Sir Charles Hedges. The point was
yet undecided, when a measure was adopted by the Tory faction, which
drove her Majesty to the resolution of throwing herself entirely into
the hands of the Whigs.
After the bill against occasional conformity had repeatedly failed, a
new scheme was, as it were in desperation, suggested. The parliament,
which met in 1705, proved to be chiefly composed of Whigs, or of those
moderate and skilful politicians, to whom it was convenient to appear to
belong to that party. It was now that a plan was formed for inviting
into England the Princess Sophia, Electress Dowager of Hanover, on whom
the succession of the crown had been already settled.
Different motives have been ascribed for the origin of this proceeding.
The Queen’s private feelings were vehemently opposed to such a measure.
Nothing could offend her more than any great degree of respect offered
to her successor; and her good wishes were with sufficient reason
supposed really to centre in another quarter. The kindly-tempered Anne
had never forgotten that she had involuntarily injured her brother. The
Hanoverian succession could not, therefore, be secured with any hope of
pleasing her; and it was supposed rather to be a snare to her ministry,
who, if they promoted it, would incur for ever the royal displeasure.
The Duchess of Marlborough, observing in which direction her mistress’s
affections lay, nevertheless had repeatedly urged her to invite over the
Electress, or, at any rate, the young Prince of Hanover, afterwards
George the First, in order that he might live in this country as her
son; but to this proposal her Majesty never would listen for an
instant.[56]
The party who brought this measure into parliament, headed by Lord
Rochester and Lord Nottingham, neither expected, nor even wished, it was
said, to carry their motion, but either to embroil the Whigs with the
Queen, or to draw the enmity of the bulk of the nation upon that party
for opposing the scheme; for the Electress, although a Lutheran, was
regarded as the protectress of the Protestant church; and the safety of
the church was at that time dearer to the populace of England than any
other political consideration whatsoever.
The stratagem, for such it must be considered, failed entirely. It did
more, it raised the Whigs to a height, which, but for the infatuation of
their enemies, they would never, during the reign of Anne, have
attained. Notwithstanding that, in voting against the invitation to the
Electress, they departed from their principles, the Whigs, upon the plea
that the measure was “neither safe nor reasonable,” contrived to keep
their credit with the nation. They were split, nevertheless, into
factions, upon this delicate subject; but those who were termed “Court
Whigs” were zealous in their opposition to the proposed invitation.[57]
“I know, indeed,” says the Duchess, “that my Lord Godolphin, and other
great men, were much reflected upon by some well-disposed persons, for
not laying hold of this opportunity, which the Tories put into their
hands, of more effectually securing the succession to the crown in the
House of Hanover. But those of the Whigs whose anger against the
minister was raised on this account, little knew how impracticable the
project of invitation was, and that the attempt would have only served
to make the Queen discard her ministry, to the ruin of the common cause
of these kingdoms, and of all Europe. I had often tried her Majesty upon
this subject; and when I found that she would not hear of the immediate
successor coming over, had pressed her that she would at least invite
hither the young Prince of Hanover, who was not to be her immediate
successor, and that she would let him live here as her son; but her
Majesty would listen to no proposal of this kind in any shape whatever.”
The Queen, upon this occasion, gave the first indications of anything
like a real reconciliation to the Whig party.[58] Those in the houses of
parliament, and there were many, who were zealously attached to the
Pretender, and abjured him only in order better to serve him,[59] were
infinitely less obnoxious to her than the politicians who dared to
propose planting her extolled successor perpetually before her eyes.
Stronger minds than that which Anne possessed would have shrunk from
such a trial of temper. She was childless, and no longer young; and
perhaps the determination manifested by this proposal to ruin the hopes
of her nephew aggravated her resentment. Her self-love was deeply
wounded. For though she was not, even then, as the Duchess expressed it,
inwardly converted to the Whigs, neither by all that her favourite had
been able to say, nor even “by the mad conduct of the tacking Tories,”
to repeat language which must be readily appropriated by those who know
the Duchess’s style,—yet their conduct in the _invitation_ occasioned a
change in her sentiments, which an insult from one whom she had formerly
regarded with kindly prepossessions completed.
“She had been present,” says the Duchess, “at the debates in the House
of Lords upon that subject, and had heard the Duke of Buckingham treat
her with great disrespect, urging, as an argument for inviting over the
Princess Sophia, that the Queen might live till she did not know what
she did, and be like a child in the hands of others; and a great deal to
the same effect. Such rude treatment from the Tories, and the zeal and
success of the Whigs in opposing a motion so extremely disagreeable to
her, occasioned her to write to me in the following terms.”
“I believe dear Mrs. Freeman and I shall not disagree as we have
formerly done; for I am sensible of the services those people have done
me, that you have a good opinion of, and will countenance them, and am
thoroughly convinced of the malice and insolence of _them_ you have
always been speaking against.”
The insolent remark of Buckingham was armed with a sting which few
females could endure with composure. The Electress Sophia, who was to be
the safeguard of the people in Anne’s dotage, was seventy-six years of
age. The Queen had gone to the gallery of the house with a far different
expectation than that of hearing; observations so calculated to wound
her nicest feelings. She had hoped by her presence to restrain the
violence of language, which she had on a former occasion checked by her
royal presence; but she had not expected that the heat of argument would
be mingled up with insinuations so audacious, which, though pointed at
the Duchess of Marlborough, were most insulting to herself. She had
indulged a desire to hear this celebrated argument, and to judge in
person who were most her friends on this occasion; and she was painfully
chastised for her curiosity.[60] This, and other circumstances, produced
that acknowledgment which the “dear Mrs. Freeman,” to whom it was
addressed, treasured up and reported.[61]
The Whigs lost both character and consistency, whilst they gained court
favour, by their opposition to the “invitation” projected. The
appointment of Lord Sunderland, so earnestly desired by the Duchess in
opposition to her husband, was not calculated to recover their
popularity. When it did take place, the event justified the predictions
of his enemies, and the apprehensions of his friends. It was not long
before he began to dictate to the poor Queen, who was tolerably inured
to that sort of treatment, but who did not expect it from his lordship.
He raised contentions among the nobility, and disgraced himself and his
station by an indifference to moral character in those whom he took to
be his associates. The old Whigs, Lord Somers among them, predicted that
grievous confusion would accrue in consequence of the boldness and
inexperience of this rash and scheming politician.[62]
There was another young satellite of the Lord Treasurer’s, whom the
old-fashioned Whigs dreaded and detested. This was Mr. James Craggs, an
early favourite of the Duke of Marlborough, and now a rising star on the
political hemisphere. But Harley stood on a more firm footing than any
of the courtiers who dreaded, or who flattered, the still powerful
Duchess of Marlborough. Her influence and her arrogance were now at
their climax. It is said that, with one glance of her eye, she banished
from the royal presence a Scottish gentleman, Mr. James Johnson, who
came to Hampton Court to treat with the Queen on the affairs of his
country.[63] And, indeed, Harley in vain endeavoured to ingratiate
himself in her favour. He dreaded the violent temper and influence of
that “busy woman,” as she was called; he knew that it had been exercised
to the ruin of others, and that it might affect his prospects.
Few persons understood the art of adapting his conversation to certain
ends so well as the discerning, artful, and accomplished Harley; few
persons better understood the value of appearances. Although educated in
the Presbyterian faith, he carefully avoided an exclusive preference to
sectarianism, as a barrier to political advancement; and, piqued at the
indifference of the liberal party which he had originally espoused, he
adhered to that which was most likely to insure lasting popularity—the
high church party. Essentially a worldly man, Harley, nevertheless,
failed not to have a clergyman at his dinner-table every Sunday, and,
with characteristic temporising, selected his weekly clerical visitants
alternately from the Episcopalian and Presbyterian faith,[64]—his family
generally following the latter persuasion. It was Harley’s unsuccessful
aim, at this time, to ingratiate himself with the Duchess of
Marlborough, and to gain her over to his interests. Deeply versed in
literature, and a patron of learning, it might have been supposed that
the lettered, the polite, the liberal Harley, could have found means to
gain the good-will of one who knew well how to estimate his talents, and
to prize the deference which he paid to her ascendant star. The Duchess,
however, was not to be blinded or misled by flattery, which she expected
as her due, and which she did not think entitled to any degree of
gratitude on her part. To all Harley’s civilities she could scarcely be
prevailed upon to return a civil answer.[65] The “diverting stories of
the town,” with which he afterwards solaced the Queen’s retirement, when
Mrs. Masham had superseded the lofty Sarah,[66] were condemned to remain
untold, whilst the Duchess frowned on all he said. “She had an aversion
to him,” says a contemporary historian, “and with a haughty air despised
all that gentleman’s civilities, though he had never discontinued his
endeavours, by the most obliging efforts, and all the good offices in
his power, to gain her friendship; but she, without any concern, rode
all about the town triumphant; sometimes to one lady, sometimes to
another; and sometimes she would visit Lord Halifax, who, in compliance
with the humour of the times, was wont to appease that lady’s spirit
with concerts of music, and poems, and private suppers, and
entertainments, for all of which he was well qualified by the natural
ease and politeness of his manners.”[67]
The causes of the Duchess’s aversion to Harley are fully disclosed in
her “Vindication.” The minister who afterwards effected her downfal had
been promoted by Marlborough and Godolphin, who often saw with different
eyes to those with which the Duchess viewed the map which lay before
her, and on which she traced her future course. Her penetrating glance
detected the deep art, the well-digested designs which lay beneath the
moderation and civility of Harley. But she had a more particular source
of enmity towards Harley, which was that minister’s patronage of Sir
Charles Hedges, into whose post it was her design, or rather
determination, to introduce her son-in-law Sunderland. The Queen had a
reluctance to part with Sir Charles Hedges, and was assisted by Harley
in raising obstacles to the change in the cabinet which the Duchess
desired. The predominating Whig party aided the Duchess, and, as she
relates, “after the services they had done, and the assurances the Queen
had given them, thought it reasonable to expect that one of the
secretaries at least should be such a man as they could place a
confidence in. They believed,” adds the Duchess, “they might trust my
Lord Sunderland; and though they did not think him the properest man for
the post, yet, being my Lord Marlborough’s son-in-law, they chose to
recommend him to her Majesty, because, as they expressed themselves to
me, they imagined it was _driving the nail that would go_.”[68]
Marlborough and Godolphin, notwithstanding the near connexion of both
with Lord Sunderland, were adverse, nevertheless, to his appointment.
Sunderland was not only conceited and headstrong, but he was unpopular
from a rash and unbecoming practice of running down Britain, its customs
and institutions, laws and rights, and maintaining the superiority of
other countries. The manners of this young nobleman were harsh, and his
temper ungovernable. He was little adapted to conciliate the favour of a
female sovereign; more especially when he came forward in direct
contrast with the bland and accessible Harley, who did not consider it
beneath him to promote courtly gossip for the Queen’s amusement. The
Duchess, however, with less judgment than might have been expected,
urged strongly and incessantly the appointment of her son-in-law; and
was astonished that the Queen should be reluctant to promote the
son-in-law of Marlborough, the hero not only of Blenheim, but of
Ramilies, where a victory was gained whilst yet this matter was in
suspense.[69] She urged her Majesty by letter not to think that she
could continue to carry on the government with so much partiality to
“one sort of men, and so much discouragement to others.”
The Queen, it seems, had taken some offence at the freedom of a former
letter, for the Duchess thus expostulated with her Majesty in reference
to that epistle.[70]
“By the letter I had from your Majesty this morning, and the great
weight you put upon the difference betwixt the word notion and nation in
my letter, I am only made sensible (as by many other things) that you
were in a great disposition to complain of me, since to this moment I
cannot for my life see any essential difference betwixt those two words
as to the sense of my letter, the true meaning of which was only to let
your Majesty know, with that faithfulness and concern which I ever had
for your service, that it was not possible for you to carry on your
government much longer with so much partiality to one sort of men,
though they lose no occasion of disserving you, and of showing the
greatest inveteracy against my Lord Marlborough and my Lord Treasurer;
and so much discouragement to others, who, even after great
disobligations, have taken several opportunities to show their firmness
to your Majesty’s interest, and their zeal to support you.”
She proceeded to point out to the Queen, that if the Lord Treasurer and
Marlborough found it impossible to carry on the government, and were to
retire from it, her Majesty would find herself in the hands of a very
violent party, who, she declared, would have “very little mercy,” or
“even humanity,” for her Majesty.
The result proved the truth of this prediction; and when, some years
afterwards, the Queen, harassed and intimidated by turns, sank under the
pressure, not of public business, but of party rancour, the value and
good sense of the Duchess’s warnings became manifest.
“Whereas,” adds the plain-spoken favourite, “you might prevent all these
misfortunes by giving my Lord Treasurer and my Lord Marlborough (whom
you may so safely trust) leave to propose those things to you which they
know and can judge to be absolutely necessary for your service, which
will put it in their power to influence those who have given you proofs
both of their being able to serve you, and of their desiring to make you
great and happy. But rather than your Majesty will employ a party-man,
as you are pleased to call Lord Sunderland, you will put all things in
confusion; and at the same time that you say this, you employ Sir C.
Hedges, who is against you, only that he has voted in remarkable things,
that he might keep his place; and he did so in the last King’s time,
till at last, when everybody saw that he was dying, and he could lose
nothing by differing with that court; but formerly he voted with those
men, the enemies to the government, called Whigs; and if he had not been
a party-man, how could he have been a secretary of state, when all your
councils were influenced by my Lord Rochester, Lord Nott, Sir Edward
Seymour, and about six or seven just such men, that call themselves _the
heroes of the church_?”
The anathemas of the Duchess were not without effect. Sir Charles
Hedges, dismayed at the vigorous opposition set up against him, deemed
it, eventually, more prudent to retire, than to be turned out of his
post; and, in the winter of 1706, Lord Sunderland was appointed to
succeed him.[71]
Queen Anne had now thrown herself, to all appearance, wholly into the
hands of the Whig party, who, from her childhood, had appeared to her to
be her natural enemies. Yet still she cherished a secret partiality to
her early counsellors, and exhibited a reluctance to consult with her
ministers on any promotions in the church.
“The first artifice of those counsellors was,” says the Duchess,[72] “to
instil into the Queen notions of the _high prerogative_ of _acting
without her ministers_, and, as they expressed it, of being Queen
_indeed_. And the nomination of persons to bishoprics, against the
judgment and _remonstrances_ of her ministers, being what they knew her
genius would fall in with more readily than with anything else they
could propose, they began with that; and they took care that those
_remonstrances_ should be interpreted by the world, and presented by
herself, as hard usage, a denial of common civility, and even _the
making her no_ Queen.” Such is the account given by this violent
partisan of the secret power by which her friends were finally
vanquished.
To operate on her Majesty’s fears, and to gain popularity among a
numerous portion of the people who deemed the Whigs inimical to the
church establishment, an outcry was raised that the church was in
danger. Marlborough and Godolphin were regarded as deserters from the
great cause, and the press was employed in attacking the low church
party, in terms both unscrupulous and indelicate.
That celebrated libel, entitled, “The Memorial of the Church of
England,” the author of which has been already specified, was published
at this critical juncture; “a doleful piece,” as the Duchess calls it,
“penned by some of the zealots of the party.” This was among the first
and most scurrilous efforts of those who hoped by invective and slander
to produce a deep impression on the public mind. It was dedicated to the
Duke of Marlborough, as being considered still the strength of a party
which he had not explicitly renounced: and was forwarded to him in the
midst of his campaign on the Ische. To his great mind the aspersions of
the anonymous party were too contemptible to merit a moment’s serious
indignation. The vehemence of passionate indignation is, on such
occasions, the ebullition of minds of an inferior stamp. The injustice
and invective which scarcely drew forth an angry exclamation from
Marlborough, produced a feverish heat in the warm temperament of the
Duchess.
“In this camp,” writes the Duke to Lord Godolphin, his bosom friend and
confidant,[73] “I have had time to read the pamphlet called ‘The
Memorial of the Church of England.’ I think it the most impudent and
scurrilous thing I ever read. If the author can be found, I do not doubt
but he will be punished; for if such liberties may be taken, of writing
scandalous lies without being punished, no government can stand long.
Notwithstanding what I have said, I cannot forbear laughing when I think
they would have you and I pass for fanatics, and the Duke of Buckingham
and Lord Jersey for pillars of the church; the one being a Roman
Catholic in King James’s reign, and the other would have been a Quaker,
or any other religion that would have pleased the late King.”
To the Duchess he calmly writes:—
“Tirlemont, Sept. 7.
“I received last night a letter from you without date, by which I see
there is another scurrilous pamphlet come out. The best way of putting
an end to that villany is not to appear concerned. The best of men and
women, in all ages, have been ill used. If we can be so happy as to
behave ourselves so as to have no reason to reproach ourselves, we may
then despise what rage and faction do.”
This wise and dignified mode of receiving attacks to which eminent
individuals have in every age been exposed, was succeeded by the
exposure and punishment of the scurrilous writer.
Of that event, with its painful circumstances, a detailed account has
already been given in the preceding volume.