Plaidy, Jean - Royal Sisters - The Story of the Daughters of James II

“I can never be grateful enough to her; nor can Mr. Morley. He was recalling only the other night how sickly our little darling was and saying …”

“Est-il possible? I know. But really she is nothing but a wet nurse. We could have found one of those at any time.”

“But we couldn’t. We tried nurses and none was any good until Mrs. Pack came.”

“The Prince will soon be old enough to do without her.”

“Mr. Morley and I should be afraid to let her go. We feel she is a sort of talisman.”

“She has been very insolent to me.”

“To my dear Mrs. Freeman? Oh, I am sorry. But remember, she is not exactly a well-bred lady. She is brusque with the Queen who forgives her all because of what she has done for our little darling. And to me also … and to Mr. Morley.”

“I find it not easy to forgive slights to my dear Mrs. Morley.”

Anne smiled. “Have one of these sweetmeats, dear Mrs. Freeman. They are especially sweet. I must send for some more. Now sit down and forget about Mrs. Pack. Tell me something interesting. ”

So she was weary of accusations against that woman. In fact she was on that woman’s side … against Sarah.

And what could Sarah do about it? It was clear that however much she schemed against Mrs. Pack she would never get her removed because the Queen and Anne believed that the child still needed her.

Sarah Churchill, Countess of Marlborough, insulted by a wet nurse!

And that was not all. The sisters were together again. “Dear Anne, how is my little darling today? I could not rest until I had seen him.”

“Dear Mary, I am sure he knows you. See how he is smiling?”

Bah!

“Now that you have given them the heir to the throne your allowance should be increased,” said Sarah firmly.

“Oh?” murmured Anne.

“It is disgraceful. Here you are at Hampton—dependent on the King and Queen. Should you not have your own establishment? Yet you are asked to live on a pitiable sum.”

Anne was not listening; she was dreamily reaching for one of the sweetmeats and thinking of going into the nursery and wondering if Mrs. Pack would allow her to hold the Duke of Gloucester for half an hour.

Sarah ground her teeth in anger.

One must be patient, she supposed, but it should not go on.

Because her child was thriving Anne was happy; all she wanted was to talk of him. She and Sarah would chat together of Sarah’s children and they decided that when the little Duke of Gloucester was older, Sarah’s son John should be his companion. But Sarah continued to talk of Anne’s wrongs and persuaded her that something should be done to right them; consequently with Anne’s permission Sarah sounded certain ministers as to methods of increasing Anne’s allowance.

When William discovered this he discussed it angrily with the Queen, and Mary went to see her sister to reproach her with her duplicity.

“And I thought that we had become good friends again,” complained Mary.

“So did I,” replied Anne.

“And all the time you were going behind our backs … trying to get more money. Don’t you realize how generously you have been treated?”

“There is my son now …” pointed out Anne.

“Anne, there is a war in Ireland which is draining our resources.”

Anne wiped a tear from her eyes. “A war against our own father,” she said.

“This is not the time to go into all that. You must be sensible. We are all together on one side.…”

Anne knew vaguely that that was just what Sarah did not want. Anne was not on their side; neither was she on her father’s; she was somewhere in between—ready to jump either way, depending on what happened.

“I think I should have the money,” she said.

“You are … stupid!” cried Mary.

And she left her.

Sarah who had been listening came into the room.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Morley. You dealt admirably with Mrs. Dutch Abortion.”

“Oh, Sarah, you’ll be the death of me. What a name for her.”

“I do not think we should stay here at Hampton Court,” went on Sarah. “The Duke of Gloucester, as heir to the throne, should have his own establishment. I was speaking to Lord Craven and he would be delighted to lend his house at Kensington Gravel Pits. It would make an excellent nursery for the Prince because it is a very fine house.”

“I must see Lord Craven at once.”

“I fancy Mrs. D-A will not be very pleased to have her little darling taken from her, but people who will not oblige us cannot expect to be obliged.”

Very shortly afterward the little Duke of Gloucester was set up in his nursery at Kensington Gravel Pits.

While Mary had been worrying about the health of her little nephew and rejoicing at Mrs. Pack’s success with him it had been becoming obvious that the conflict between the reigning sovereign and the Jacobites was not going to be easily settled.

The Battle of Bantry Bay had been fought against the French who were supporting the Jacobites and the result had been defeat for the British fleet.

Clarendon had come to William and Mary and begged to be allowed to go to Ireland where he believed he could be of service to them, but Anne had so poisoned her sister’s mind against their uncle in her letters that both William and Mary failed to see that the very fact that he had supported James pointed to his loyalty, and regarded him with suspicion.

Clarendon’s great desire was to save the Protestant community in Ireland who were in danger of elimination, and much as he disliked William, much as he abhorred the manner in which he—and he blamed him rather than his niece Mary—had treated James, he believed that this was not the time for partisanship. Peace in Ireland was necessary and he was sure that he, as a former Lord Lieutenant, could persuade the present Lord Lieutenant, Lord Tyrconnel, to declare for William.

But William and Mary turned their backs on him and looked about for some other ambassador whom they could trust. They favored Count Hamilton and when John Temple—son of Sir William—who had been made Secretary of War, recommended that Hamilton should be sent to Ireland, he was given the commission instead of Clarendon.

Hamilton was the brother of Frances Jennings’s first husband, and Tyrconnel was now that lady’s husband; so that the relationship should, it seemed, prove helpful.

The result however turned out to be disastrous, for Hamilton persuaded Tyrconnel to stand firm for James. They had sent the wrong man, but it was too late to alter that now.

The situation in Ireland was worsening; John Temple, having made such an error of judgment in advising the sending of Hamilton, filled his pockets with stones and jumped into the Thames near London Bridge. There was great public interest when his body was found and the reason known.

“We have nothing but ill luck,” said the people. “This is the curse of a father on his ungrateful daughter.”

“There is only one thing to be done,” said William. “I myself must go to Ireland.”

The little Duke of Gloucester, although frail, continued to survive. Crowds collected to see him taken out each day in his tiny carriage which had been made especially for him. Four of the smallest horses ever seen had been chosen to draw it; and Prince George’s coachman held the reins and drew it along. There were cheers as the baby with his little retinue passed by; and no matter how cold the weather he always went out. Mrs. Pack had brought her children up to face all weathers, so little Gloucester must do the same.