Виктория Холт - Royal Sisters - The Story of the Daughters of James II

Invasion of England had always terrified the foreigner; it was believed to be well-nigh impossible, because the English had special protection from Providence; they had never been invaded. Somewhere deep down in the heart of every invading force was the fear that it never would be.

The French Admiral Tourville procrastinated. Anchored off Torbay he sent a small experimental force to Teignmouth. The little village was sacked and from his flagship, Tourville contemplated the flames with satisfaction. There were many Catholics in England, and he imagined that now he was at hand they would be ready to rise against the new rulers and stand for James, and make his landing easy.

But his soldiers had burned the church, and the men of Devon, shocked that their navy had failed to protect them, were incensed because an enemy had dared set foot on their land.

All other grievances were forgotten. If foreigners were attempting to land in England there was only one enemy. Whether James or William and Mary should rule was a matter to be settled internally. But foreigners must always be shown that England belonged to the English and no hostile foot should ever be allowed to set itself there unbidden.

Never mind the “Squeezing of the Orange” or drinking to the King over the Water now. It was: Curse the invader. We’ll show him what he can expect if he sets foot on Devon shores!

The whole of the West Country was rising against the Frenchmen. Bonfires were seen along the coast; the men of the West were ready and waiting.

It was true, Tourville realized; they were unbeatable. A small success at sea did not mean that the land could be conquered.

He had had that success; was it going to be forgotten in the ignoble failure of attempting the impossible?

Tourville was certain there was only one action to take; he took it and sailed back to France.

It was imperative that Torrington should be dismissed his command, and two names were put forward as his successors. These were Sir John Ashby and Sir Richard Haddock, both excellent men of wide experience and well capable of taking command of the Navy.

Mary had believed that the affair could be quickly settled, but she had forgotten the jealousy of those about her. The Admiralty was incensed because it had not been consulted. Why should the Cabinet decide who should command the Navy? Was it not the prerogative of the Admiralty?

The Cabinet said that they, with the Admiralty, should discuss the matter, but the Admiralty wanted no easy solution. The Queen had discussed the matter originally with the Cabinet; so why, when the Admiralty was represented, should she be absent?

Mary, angered by the pettiness of all this, refused to see them and Lord Lincoln, one of the Privy councillors, came bursting into her apartment, acting, as she said, like a madman, shouting at her, demanding this and that. She ordered him out; but weary of the ridiculous conflict agreed to make an appearance at the meeting.

It was a stormy meeting. The Admiralty rejected Haddock and Ashby, not on their merits, for they could find no fault with their records, but simply because they had been chosen by the Cabinet.

It was Russell who suggested that the two men should share the responsibility with a third man of quality whom they could all trust. The Earl of Shrewsbury was now recovered in health and he was a man of whom they all had a high opinion.

This pleased Mary, for if Shrewsbury held a high command she would feel that she had someone in an important place on whom she could rely.

Her suggestion was that Haddock and Ashby be given command and that William should name a man of his choice to stand with them. She was certain that William would choose Shrewsbury for he had been as sorry as she was when the Earl had retired from public life.

Sir Thomas Lee answered her curtly that he and his Commission would make the choice. “We refuse,” he added, “to accept Haddock.”

“It would seem,” said Mary, who was always stung to action by any criticism of William, “that the King has given away his power and cannot make an Admiral whom the Admiralty do not like.”

“No,” snapped Lee. “He cannot.”

The entire company was shocked by this outburst and Danby immediately closed the meeting.

Danby now showed his strength and advised that if the Queen insisted on the nomination of Haddock who was the best man for the job, her ministers would see that her commands were obeyed.

“Your Majesty,” pointed out Danby, “not one criticism have they been able to raise against Haddock. Their only reason for refusing him is that they did not choose him.”

Mary replied: “I am very angry with Lee—at the manner in which he spoke of the King. I have rarely been so angry. Yes, Haddock shall be appointed and Ashby with him.”

The Admiralty, themselves shocked by Lee’s outburst, now saw that they would have to accept Haddock and Ashby; and the names which were put forward as the man of quality who should assist them were four in all: Shrewsbury, Russell, the Duke of Grafton, and Henry Killigrew.

Russell would not leave the Cabinet, so it was a choice between the other three. Grafton had a reputation as a sadist and seamen would not wish to serve under him. Henry Killigrew was suspected of being a Jacobite, and Shrewsbury was the Queen’s man.

The Admiralty preferred to choose Killigrew; and with Ashby and Haddock he was given command.

Shrewsbury, who had hoped to receive the command immediately became ill when he had heard that it had been given to Killigrew.

He came to the Queen—his face set into lines of resignation.

“I came out of my retirement too quickly,” he told her. “I fear I must go at once to Tunbridge Wells.”

Mary was desolate; but clearly the charming Earl must consider his health.

This was a time of waiting for Sarah—always so irksome. John was in England and for that she was thankful. How she enjoyed those occasions when they could be alone together, planning, always planning for the grand future which lay ahead. He did not always agree with her and there were frequent quarrels, but he was as ambitous as she was, and they were working toward the same goal, although they did not always want to take the same road. He told her that she was too domineering, that she made too many enemies; she retorted that he wasted time on attempted diplomacy. But they always made up their quarrels; they knew they were bound together for the glory of the Marlboroughs. If he could get command of the Army and she could get command of the Queen—which Anne would be one day—they would be for all important purposes King and Queen of England. It was a wonderfully exhilarating prospect and worth a lifetime’s plotting, planning, and occasional disagreements.

Marlborough was almost hoping for an invasion of England that would give him an opportunity to show his skill. He had hoped that it might happen because there had been rebellions in Deal and Rye, and as far north as Berwick. Scotland was always suspected of being firmly behind the Stuarts and therefore for James against William. But French folly in making the hit and run attack on Teignmouth had quelled all thoughts of rebellion against William and Mary because of a need to stand against England’s enemy: France.

They must wait in patience, said Marlborough; but patience was not one of Sarah’s virtues.

She looked about for some light diversion and found one.

She was playing cards with Anne and a few of the Princess’s women when they began to discuss the effects of the victory in Ireland.

Sarah commented that this would probably mean that there were estates in Ireland which would come to the King’s faithful supporters. Then she noticed that Lady Fitzharding was looking a little smug.