Abigail's Cousin (27 page)

He looked up
once more and caught the bishop's final word, Amen and repeated it
loudly, as did everyone in the assembly. The couple stood a while
then embraced and both Harley and Dr Arbuthnot stood awkwardly to
one side before Mr and Mrs Masham each thanked them before Mrs
Masham turned around looking towards the queen observing Bishop
Sacheverell exchanging words with Queen Anne who gestured to the
happy couple to add her felicitations.

As this was
happening a grey-haired man dressed for the occasion with
flourishes of white in his lapels looked on benignly. He was
Monsieur Adam de Cardonnel, secretary to the duke of Marlborough
and given permission to leave his side in order to return to
England to attend the nuptials. They had met soon after Blenheim
quickly discovering they shared a common language for Cardonnel was
a refugee from France whereas Masham's father had taken his son
with him on military missions.

Both men were bi-lingual and it was said
of Cardonnel that he knew Marlborough's mind so well that when
Cardonnel mislaid an unsigned letter to the House of Commons, the
duke had signed it as one of his own. This facility would stand
Cardonnel in good stead becoming Minister for War after Henry St
John vacated the position on
the dismissal of Robert Harley.

Almost in
anticipation of this event, Cardonnel reflected as he watched his
friend and his lady walking between the neat rows of chairs towards
the refectory which the queen had ordered to be given over for the
reception, 'We have both followed the same star, Samuel, which has
still some way to travel in its progress through the firmament.
I've little doubt we shall both be needed in Paris after the Duke
rides in triumph through the streets. We are privileged to serve
under the finest general who has ever lived. What an age in which
to live!'

There was a
crush of people at the door and he heard farewells being shouted
and heard the sounds of hooves and a carriage and pressed through
the throng. He had caught Samuel's eyes and they had showed delight
and happiness and he would see the couple ere long so did not
overly rush but was pleased to wave at both happy people from their
carriage whose top had been turned down such as used by the queen
on her progresses through the kingdom. Then he noticed Robert
Harley also waving and thought how odd for surely he was to lead
the way.

Then Cardonnel
realised that Samuel already knew the way to Brampton Bryan so
perhaps had been there before. Or perhaps Mrs Masham held the key
to that mystery. He decided to stay for the reception and caught
Henry St John's eye. They could yarn over battlefields and perhaps
drop a throwaway question about relationships. He would have
something to report to Marlborough after all and it would not be
about the niceties of English and German beer.

The carriage and its four white horses
disappeared into the distance and he joined his fellow guests
making their way towards the right royal spread which the palace
catering staff had prep
ared for them in the refectory.

PART 3: NURSE

When treachery is being planned for the
public good, people need to be clear about their motives. In these
days of whistle-blowers an excuse is that one is acting in the
public interest. So, although morals and mores between the eras of
the 17th and the 21st century are decidedly different, the argument
that an act of treachery is justifi
ed by reason of exalted motives is timeless. Take
the case of Robert Harley. He entered Parliament as a Whig and was
drawn towards the left wing of the Party being labelled a Country
Whig; otherwise the Party was made up of Court Whigs who believed
that success in business and trade could only develop through royal
patronage.

If history is
anything to go by they had a point in that it was Elizabeth I who
granted the first merchant adventurers their charter, '...that
they, of their Adventures, costs and charges, as well as for the
honour of this our realm of England...might adventure...to the East
Indies..." So the East India Company was inaugurated in 1599.

Yet having a
royal charter was no help to a captain of a trading ship at a
standstill on the Hooghly river because gunboats of the Portuguese,
the Dutch and the French had got there before you and now prevented
you from entering the anchorage at Chuttanuty. The English had been
slow off the mark and might have remained barred from carrying on
trade in the Deccan had not Shah Jehan's daughter been badly burned
in an accident.

Desperately
his courtiers sought help from the resident Europeans but could
only obtain it from the surgeon of that English ship moored along
the Hooghly. Its name was Hopewell which would augur well for the
English in India for Mr Gabriel Boughton cured Shah Jehan's beloved
daughter. This was the same Shah that loved his dear wife, Mumtaz,
so passionately that in memory of her he built the Taj Mahal. Now
he asked the surgeon to name his price as a measure of his
gratitude. In the words of Proffessor Charles Stuart, 'With that
liberality which characterises Britons, he sought not for any
private emolument, but solicited that his nation might have the
liberty to trade....', and the rest is history.

The Merchant
Adventurers came to realise that it was private enterprise and
initiative that would drive their project forward and increasingly
sought the support of like-minded men in Parliament and so arose
the faction of the Country Whigs. Robert Harley had been such a
merchant adventurer sending his son into Parliament where he
quickly rose to prominence. Yet being elected Speaker of the House
of Commons led him into politics and away from the business
interests of his colleagues.

He could only
observe and not participate in the setting up of the Bank of
England which more and more was funding not only trade by the East
India Company and other trading enterprises but also became
instrumental in controlling and channelling the supply of money to
fund the War of the Spanish Succession. It was the likes of John
Churchill and Lord Godolphin who were setting the agenda; it seemed
to Harley he was little more than a messenger boy in the great
schemes of state. To the Duumvirs, as Churchill and Godolphin came
to be called, he was a mover and shaker yet the real power lay
outside his purview. One of Harley's great assets was personal
charm which had brought him the office of Speaker and in fulfilling
his duties it brought him into contact with her majesty, the
queen.

It did not
take long to appreciate her opprobrium towards the war. Her people
were suffering. She could witness it on every street corner and on
the roads in her various progresses through the kingdom. She had
shown him letters of distress from officers who having lost a limb
or been blinded were as badly off as any commoner. Indeed many
officers in Marlborough's army were commoners as it was his custom
to promote on the field of battle. It was also a stroke of fortune
for Harley to discover that the woman who was doing much good to
the queen was a cousin of his. It was the aftermath of that fateful
meeting one day at the Garden House, Windsor, having been summoned
there by the queen, that he ran across that cousin, Abigail Hill,
and came to the decision that it was his destiny to bring peace to
the country. By so doing he was fulfilling an ardent wish of the
queen. He saw no higher duty.

Nonetheless it
quickly transpired that a direct political assault upon the
bastions of power firmly in the hands of the Duumvirs could not be
successful. He had tried it, had failed and had lost even his post
in the ministry. His next attempt would require careful planning;
it would also involve more people and he speculated with his close
friend and fellow MP, Henry St John, upon their reliability, yet
the prize was great. Nonetheless were he to fail this time, he and
his friend would not only lose their positions in the ministry;
both could be charged with high treason.

This attempt
to dismiss Lord Godolphin (Duumvir 2) had the direct support of the
queen for although she had supported his earlier attempt, it had
failed when Marlborough had threatened to resign. He proved to be
irreplaceable. Yet Harley was about to come face to face with the
unpalatable truth that the Duke of Ormonde, approached to replace
the Duke of Marlborough (Duumvir 1), was an idiot and this
denouement had come about as a result of Harley's own misdemeanour.
It has already been remarked that payment of remuneration often was
months in arrears although as officers were in possession of a
private income, there were no consequences.

The Duchess of Marlborough had brought off
a coup in obtaining a post for Jack Hill, but as he had no private
income, he was often penniless. In a similar manner Robert Harley
had taken onto his staff an able officer by the name of Anthonie de
Guiscard. He was soon to discover the sad outcome of withholding
payment from an employee with no other means of support.
Fortunately for Harley the hearing of the accused was being held in
camera as it was deemed a matter of national security. Yet some
doubts raised by Henry St. John as to the suitability of the man to
replace the captain-general when the time came, would now
surface.

The hearing was conducted in the presence
of this person whom Henry St John regarded as little better than a
high-born messenger as he filled that role when William III sent
him with his instructions to Princess Anne to send Lady Churchill
packing. In revenge Anne, then queen, sent him with orders to the
earl of Rochester to quit as lord-lieutenant of Ireland. Robert
Harley had invited him to chair the hearing on the evening of March
7th, in the year 1711. Full of self-importance, he was announced by
the footman, as he entered the chamber set aside for the hearing,
and drew himself up to his full five feet and eight inches stature,
as the footman words rang out: James Butler, Duke of Ormonde. In
this manner, he took his seat in the chair that Anne normally
occupied at her Councils of War and addressing nobody in
particular, s
aid
grandly: "Well, gentlemen, are we ready?"

To the left
and right of Ormonde were clerks at smaller side-tables who were to
record the proceedings. Harley nodded at St. John who addressed the
chair: "With your leave, your grace," then addressing each of the
two clerks said, "clerks of the hearing, have you everything you
need?"

One of them
evidently the senior clerk nodded, turning to say: "We have, may it
please, your grace."

Ormonde looked
to Harley who said: "May I have the prisoner brought in, your
grace?"

Ormonde nodded
and Harley went to the door at the opposite end, opening it and
saying to the official: "Bring in the prisoner, serjeant!"

A shuffling could be heard which
materialised into a dishevelled figure moving forward with small
steps to a clanking of chains and St John was moved to pity as he
looked at the prisoner. He might have been described as
well-dressed except that his shirt though soiled was of evident
quality as both cuffs and front were brocaded in silk lace. He
looked a gentleman brought low by circumstances about to unfold at
this hearing.
The
serjeant brought his prisoner to a halt a little way from Ormonde
and as the prisoner raised his head to look at the assembled
company, St John reflected whether he might well be in a similar
position one day. He was brought up sharp by Ormonde barking at the
prisoner: "Your name, sir!"

As he heard the words, the prisoner looked
his interlocutor fully and St John perceived Ormonde to
flinch
, looking down as
the prisoner answered: "Anthonie de Guiscard."

"Your calling,
sir," asked the duke getting the reply:

"Le capitaine
de l'infanterie des Huegenots."

Ormonde features twisted in fury:
"Speak English, sir! We shall
have no frenchifying here!"

St John looked at Guiscard and read his
lips and sympathised and would have liked to say
'tcha' and 'imbecile' himself.

Ormonde said:
"What did he say?" to which St John answered: "He said he is a
captain in the Huguenot infantry, your grace."

Ormonde folded his arms and impatiently
said: "Then what the devil is he
doing here? Why is he not in ... where is our army
precisely at present?"

"In winter
quarters, your grace." answered St John noting Ormonde's graceless
acknowledgement. St John said: "With your leave, your grace." and
addressed the prisoner: "Tell his grace, monsieur, why you are
here."

Guiscard
began: "Le Duc de Malbrouk assigned me to your ministry for war."
whereupon St John reproved him: "Your grace, monsieur. Tell him of
your duties."

The prisoner
replied to St John, ignoring Ormonde who was clearly irked but said
nothing as Guiscard spoke: "I was assisting the officers in the
ministry. Am I permitted to say more? The information is
confidential."

Harley now intervened forestalling
Ormonde:
"He was
employed in p-planning the invasion of France, your grace. It never
went ahead and is still classified as secret."

Ormonde
fidgeted while Harley spoke and now said impatiently: "Quite
amazing. I knew nothing of this. When was this to be?"

St John spoke
in French to Guiscard: "Ne repondez pas monsieur de Guiscard," then
turning to Ormonde, said: "I beg pardon, your grace, the details
are still secret. We should clear the room if the prisoner is to
answer."

Ormonde shifted in his chair and said: "No
matter, let us proceed with other matters," then turning to
Guiscard spoke sternly:
"It seems, sir, you are a dangerous man. Have you passed
information to Versailles?"