Abigail's Cousin (34 page)

Maynwaring
answered with his name adding: "The member of parliament for
Preston, sir."

Blackadder
made the usual civilities before saying: "The man's a deserter,
sir." Turning to address the man said: "Just you wait till the
military have finished with you sirrah. You'll wish you had never
been born."

Dick found his
voice and complained: "You heard what Harry, my mate said, fifteen
hundred lashes. I've seen flesh in strips gentlemen after five
hundred."

Maynwaring
shouted: "Barbaric. No wonder the army need to take men from
prisons to boost their numbers. With such barbarity, is it any
wonder? Anyway, colonel, how do you know he is a deserter? Is he in
your brigade?"

"Had he been, sir," addressing Maynwaring,
"he would not desert." Then ordered Dick: "
Show us your right cheek, man! See that D.
Tattooed with saddlers needles and gunpowder rubbed in to the
punctures."

Mainwaring
bent close to the man. Straightening he said to Spencer and
Godolphin: "You can see why the D was hidden, my lords." He turned
to Blackadder: "What are those blue scabs, colonel?" who
answered:

"Flash burns, from gunpowder. This man's
been in action
. What
campaigns, bombardier?" To Maynwaring: "Let him sit up,
sir."

The man is
allowed to sit on the bench and addresses the colonel. He says
proudly: "I was at the siege of Maastricht, colonel, 1673."

Blackadder was
quieter as he spoke: "Your name, sir."

"Drake,
colonel. Richard Drake, ex-bombardier."

Blackadder
threw down his sword, saying: "There's my hand, sir. Colonel
Blackadder is proud to shake the hand of a man from the greatest
siege in the history of the British Army. But how did it come to
this, bombardier?"

"I was at Schellenberg, colonel, Blenheim,
Ramillies, Oudenarde - that's where I got these burns. I've been a
deserter, a powder monkey. I expected to be
killed, but it never happened."

His voice
trailed away and everybody was silent. Blackadder addressed the
company:

“Here is a
soldier of the British Army discharged with nothing. I tell you,
gentlemen, there'll be thousands of Drakes before we are done with
this war, and for years afterwards. Something must be done."

Nobody
answers. The silence is broken by the appearance of a
constable.

PART 4: PEACEMAKER

Robert Harley
was in ebullient mood. For some time he had anticipated the summons
that had finally come. He knew the reason for the delay, his
presence in St James Palace daily making him aware of the activity
taking place in the formalized procedure of withdrawing the
insignia of office from one minister in order to present them to
the one about to be appointed. The queen had dropped hints of the
matter and Harley was well aware of the formality involved. Had he
not suffered a similar fate following his ill-fated attempt to
topple the lord Godolphin two years before?

Yet anxious
not to waste time, Harley had instructed his tailors to make a new
suit in the finest materials befitting his new position in life.
His new coat was soft to the touch in non-military black befitting
his role in bringing about peace negotiations. The fashionable
pockets were the only difference in style to his old coat being
rounded with three buttons, his tailor assuring him it was the
latest from Hanover and although the queen was reluctant to
contemplate the prospect of George in person yet felt comforted by
the thought that the Protestant succession was assured represented
by Herr Bothmer who had presented his credentials a short while
ago. Tiny though the new pocket fashion differed in style from the
previous, its appearance on his coat reflecting the style of
Hanover would, he hoped, reflect favourably upon Robert Harley,
assiduous for appearance, if not for substance.

Harley had
another treat waiting for him and this one was more immediate for
waiting below was one of her majesty's carriages and in it, he had
been informed, no less a person than the Duke of Somerset who had
been charged by the queen to deliver the summons to Harley. It was
a device learned from her late father-in-law, Willliam of Orange,
whose custom had been to humiliate his courtiers by having them
deliver his messages. If they refused they debarred themselves from
court. As Harley made his way from his office in the House of
Commons down the staircase and along the corridor which led out
into the open air of Scotland Yard, he reflected on the moment the
year before last when the same duke had brought the queen's council
of war to a halt demanding Harley's dismissal. As he strode towards
the carriage a flunkey opened the door, placed the steps for him to
ascend and he did so to be greeted by the duke whose mouth was set
in a forced smile accompanied by a mock cordiality. Silence reigned
thereafter inside the coach broken only by the steps being replaced
in position, the slam of the door and Somerset’s signal to the
driver, to proceed.

Somerset stared ahead yet Harley felt no
pity. The duke despised him doubtless in his own mind wondering, as
likely as not, if the world had gone mad when personages such as
his noble self were used as lackeys to summon baggages such as his
fellow passenger. An outsider might have wondered why the duke
permitted himself to be humiliated in this way. Why had he not
refused to deliver the summons as was his right? The answer, a
perfectly credible answer, lay with the distaff side of the
Somersets. In short the duchess was liked by Anne and her warmth
towards her was mutual. The duchess genuinely appreciated Anne and
together the two women enjoyed each other's company. The duke had
increasingly become aware that should he leave court, his wife
would be obliged to quit and eventually he w
ould lose a lucrative sinecure.

The duke of
Somerset enjoyed status, position and power. Yet they were as
naught in Anne's estimation compared to his wife's warmth, charisma
and hence, influence and not only at court. The duchess was liked
by the servants and tenants on the duke's estates as well as in the
royal household. Even so the cachet of the duke's title had won him
his place at court and in the government as Master of the Horse
though the duke of Marlborough, the captain-general of the Army,
ensured the senior duke directed his energies to the procurement of
horses intended for the court alone. Nonetheless it was in this
capacity that Somerset had won favour from her majesty for she
loved horses and horse-racing, and they had shared many happy times
at Ascot. Indeed it had been royal patronage that had established
this new venue not far from London. It was a venue to which not
only the posterity of future monarchs would be grateful, but also
the general public as Royal Ascot would become a fashion high-spot,
and not just for equine lovers.

This favour
conferred upon him by the queen led the duke to believe she desired
him to take a more active role in government once she had
successfully extricated herself from the power of the Duumvirs
(twins), the two men being her captain-general, the duke of
Marlborough and the other, her lord high treasurer, the lord
Godolphin, whom Somerset despised because of his lower status in
nobility.

Yet as the two
rode in the queen's carriage towards St James Palace, Somerset
entertained the notion that once her majesty had sated her desire
for revenge upon the Duumvirs, she would turn to him to fill the
post of lord high treasurer. He knew the man sitting opposite him
was to fill the post of chancellor of the exchequer while the
treasury was placed in commission pending resolution as to who
should fill its offices. This moment might smack of humiliation yet
the prize thereafter would make it all worthwhile. As the carriage
drew up in front of the Doric pillars fronting the main portal, the
duke observed Harley take up his hat, wondering. He had no idea
that Harley's tricorn hat, the ultra newest fashion, was a comment
also on the difference between them. Harley represented new money
which was transforming the face of England while landed gentlemen,
such as the duke, were being squeezed losing influence, prestige
and ultimately, power. The duke longed to know more but his sense
of status overwhelmed his curiosity.

The carriage
stopped and the duke graciously gestured for Harley to exit first.
A supercilious smile played over Harley's mouth as he could not
fail to notice the duke's attention directed to aspects of his
toilette, and he purposefully balanced his tricorn hat to reveal
its black beaver trimmed with gold lace, saying: "Your humble
servant is obliged, your grace."

The duke
gestured and Harley alighted waiting for the duke to follow suit
whereupon both men walked together between the pillars of the wide
passage leading to the entrance both delighting in the relative
coolness radiated by the stonework compared to the stuffy carriage,
though whereas Harley wafted his hat before his face, Somerset
haughtily suffered in silence.

Having escorted Harley to the queen's
presence chamber handing him over to the chamberlain, he withdrew
with a stiff: "Your servant, sir." But even as he left he heard her
majesty's voice impatiently calling a page to usher Mr Harley into
her presence and he could not stifle a gnawing feeling of envy and
hatred as he made his way, grimfaced, towards the exit. On such an
occasion, there was only one thing for it but to make his way to a
place just off Cadogan Square, where in a grace and favour
apartment tucked away in the royal mews sojourned his little lady,
Susie. She would help him recover from his humiliation, and with a
lighter s
tep, he hurried
to the address.

"It be so good
to see you, Mr Harley." was the greeting from the queen before
Somerset had departed. Anne smiled suffused with warmth on
beholding her favourite advisor and Harley returned it with a lilt
in his heart. Their eyes met. Hers darted with a gesture at the
closing door representing her worries while Harley's dancing pupils
reflected undiluted joy. Her first question anticipated sweet
revenge upon her erstwhile enemies, as she cried: "Tell me about ye
election, Mr Harley."

His reply
evoked an even broader smile, almost a grin as he explained: "We
gained over a hundred seats, ma'am in the House of Commons so we
are assured of a majority in the lower house when it comes to a
vote."

While he was
speaking, she had pulled the ceiling cord and a servant appeared.
It was the one disappointment as he knew his cousin, Mrs Masham,
was still absent owing to her confinement for a pregnancy. He heard
the queen call out:

"A cordial for
my guest, Richards, if you please!" The servant eager to obey
complied and then withdrew after delivering the two glasses; Harley
respectfully waited until the queen sipped hers before he tasted
it. It was warm and their eyes exchanged glances meaning that had
Abigail served the cordial, it would have been cool on this warm
August day. How she managed it he did not enquire, but as they
sipped their drinks, they both sensed the missing presence and Anne
nervously said:

"I should like
to do something for that brother of hers. He hath been mightily
ill-used. His grace, the captain-general, has issued advice that no
supplies, no men, no horses are to be made available to Brigadier
Hill. It is not right."

Harley echoed
her words: "Truly, ma'am, his grace doth appear to exceed his
authority. Are you not commander-in-chief?"

She eyed him
with serious mien, saying with a sigh: "It be really about money,
Mr Harley. I have no authority over ye Bank of England, or indeed
over ye Treasury. My lord Godolphin hitherto has seen to that." She
leaned forward on her day-bed: "Would you believe it! Ye bank
refused a loan yesterday against a treasury note for £120,000."

Harley's face
lost its smile. He said: "That might weaken ye treasury
p-position." Anne sighed: "Would that it were so. Later in the day
it approved the loan. What does it mean?"

Harley
answered: "The B-bank is showing it has claws." He thought a moment
then said: "I'm sure it's a Whig game intended at b-bottom."

Anne said
gloomily: "I am putting ye treasury into commission now that ye
lord high treasurer has broken his white staff of office."

Harley's face showed incredulity and Anne
understood for so many times in the past years Lord Godolphin's
resignation had been threatened and the queen had given way,
acceded to his suggestion or advice, and, at times, she longed for
him to go but he had hung on, as Harley could testify, his 1708
wound still raw. Anne had been serious but her face took on
rad
iance as she said
with a laugh:

"How many
times has this white stick invaded my dreams. Ye lord Godolphin's
eyes became something I feared to face although his manner of late
was impossible." She stopped and then added: "Ye solution was so
simple but escaped me. It was your cousin who provided me with ye
solution when she said to me that white sticks can be bought for a
shilling a bundle. Write and tell ye lord Godolphin to break it,
and that be what I have done."

She stopped
again, looking at Harley in some triumph over the simplicity of the
solution and Harley was obliged to smile and did not forbear
chuckling which the queen joined until a thought struck her:

"I pray Heaven
Mrs Masham be safe delivered. What should I do without her?"

Harley smiled
his agreement and retorted: "We should never have cool cordial
again, for one thing." His comment provoked them both to renewed
laughter. As he relaxed in her company he looked about him his eyes
taken by a picture that he had not seen before. The queen followed
his gaze and explained: