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

There were times when he wanted Bentinck back—yet such was his pride that he would not command or request. Bentinck must come back on his own desire—and Bentinck stayed away.

William had improved the Banqueting House which stood close to the Palace of Hampton Court on the banks of the river and there, with his Dutch friends, he spent most of his evenings. He was drinking heavily—mostly Holland’s gin—and although he never showed signs of intoxication, after a night’s drinking he would awake next morning in such a mood of irritability that he was approached only by those servants who found it impossible to keep away. Then at the slightest misdemeanor William would lift the cane, which he kept for the purpose, and slash it across the offender’s shoulders.

The English who preferred to see a man merry in his drink, disliked Dutch William more than ever and jocularly referred to those poor servants who suffered through their master’s irrascibility as “the Knights of the Cane.”

Moods of melancholy beset the King; he shut himself into his cabinet and brooded on the wretched turn his life had taken. He mourned for Mary; he had not believed it would be possible to miss anyone as he missed her; he wanted Elizabeth; and he wanted Bentinck.

To Bentinck he had given the vested rights of the Prince of Wales—a move which he soon began to see was a stupid one. He had meant to imply by it that he cared nothing for Anne and believed he could hold the throne without any help from her; also that he would do what he wished with affairs under his control. The people disapproved of this act; and it did not bring Bentinck back to him. Only his morbid and melancholy mood could have made him do such a foolish thing.

He sent for Lord George Hamilton, a soldier who had done good service at the Battle of the Boyne and who had been wounded at Namur.

“I wish to reward you for your services,” said William. “I trust you are recovering from your wounds.”

“Your Majesty, I trust soon to be back in your army.”

“Let me see,” said William. “You were made Brigadier General after Namur were you not?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And you are unmarried. You should have a wife.”

“Sir I …”

William said: “I am going to honor you. I will give you an earldom. What do you say to that of Orkney?”

Hamilton was stammering his thanks, wondering whether Holland’s gin was having a new effect on the King; but William silenced him.

“Your cousin, the daughter of Sir Edward Villiers, is a very marriageable young woman. I wish to see a union between you two.”

Hamilton was astounded. So he was being offered the King’s mistress! This could mean one of two things: Either he and an earldom were being offered to Elizabeth as a reward for past services or he was being given the role of complacent husband.

Time only would show which, for William was not a man to make himself clear on such a delicate matter.

An earldom! Promotion in the army, doubtless! And it was not as though he had marriage plans elsewhere. His cousin Elizabeth? She intrigued him. Not a beauty, but she must be fascinating to have held a strange cold man like the King all these years. She was a clever woman; and they would be partners. It was a good bargain he was being offered.

“A union with the lady would be very agreeable to me,” he murmured.

William nodded dismissal. That was one matter settled. That would quieten gossip; and when he was in Holland Elizabeth should come to him and it would be almost as it had been in the old days.

It became clear to William that it was a mistake to think that he could afford to flout Anne. No matter how many victories he might win abroad, to the English he was still a foreigner, and they resented a foreign King. Yet when Anne was carried out in her chair they cheered her; they looked upon her as the heiress to the throne and on Gloucester as her successor. He could not hope for a peaceful existence while he was outwardly not on good terms with her.

He renewed his promise of St. James’s Palace and this time Anne was able to move in. Then he made a gesture which gave Anne more pleasure than anything else could have done.

Lord Strafford, Knight of the Garter, died; and William wrote to Anne to say that it would give him the greatest pleasure to bestow the vacant ribbon on his nephew.

Anne went at once to her son’s apartment where he was having breakfast. In spite of her excitement she was shocked to see that Lewis was sitting beside him spooning the food into his mouth.

“That,” she said, “is no way for a Prince to eat. Lewis, stop it at once.”

“Your Highness it is the only way in which we can induce him to eat.”

Anne looked at her son with the familiar mingling of pride and terror. She had lost the last child as she had all the others, and Gloucester was her great hope. And he did not like food when his father and mother had such a delight in it! Was it a sign of delicate health?

“My boy,” she said, “do you not like the food which is prepared for you?”

He considered this and said: “I like crumbs on the table but I do not care much for food on plates.” He then wet his finger and picked up some of the crumbs about the table.

“You eat like a chicken,” she said.

“Oh, Mama, I am a chick of the game.”

His bright eyes, his quick smile were enchanting. Oh God, she prayed, preserve my darling. Keep him well. Take anything from me but leave me my precious boy.

“I have good news for you. You are to have the Garter.”

His eyes shone with pleasure. “The Garter. But I have long wanted it and do you know, Mama, Harry Scull dreamed he saw me wearing it. Pray, Lewis, bring Harry to me without delay. I must tell Harry.”

Back to Campden House came Gloucester, eyes brilliant with triumph, wearing the blue ribbon. He paraded before his parents telling them about the ceremony. “There were eleven knights with the King,” he said. “William knighted me with the sword of state and then put the ribbon on me with his own hands, and that, Papa—are you listening Mama?”

“To every word, my dearest.”

“Well that is most unusual, for one of the knights usually does it, but William wanted to do it for me. It was a special occasion. I am a favorite of his.”

“Well, you are an heir to the throne.”

“Yes, but it is a most unusual thing to be a favorite of the King’s, Mama.”

Anne exchanged glances with her husband. How could anyone help but make him a favorite? she was asking.

“Now may I go to my men. They are all anxious to see me in the Garter. I shall always wear it … until the day I die.”

“We will not speak of that,” said Anne sharply; and George laid a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

They were silent, listening to Gloucester’s voice shouting orders to his soldiers.

It had been wonderful to see the boy wearing the ribbon, but the mention of his death could plunge them both into deepest melancholy.

There was a visitor for the Princess Anne. This was John Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave. Anne could never see him without remembering that love affair of her youth when she and John Sheffield had planned to marry. She still remembered the poems he had written to her. He had been sent away on her account and she had been given her dear George who was the best of husbands; but that did not mean she had not still a tender spot for Sheffield.