Abigail's Cousin (45 page)

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Authors: Ron Pearse

Tags: #england, #historical, #18th century, #queen anne, #chambermaid, #duke of marlborough, #abigail masham, #john churchill, #war against france

BOOK: Abigail's Cousin
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Hill looked as
if hit by a cold shower of rain. He said: "I need a job, Singeing."
St John appeared distracted still and was only half-listening
prompting Hill to look sharply at the man still with his shirt on
display having removed his coat earlier. Hill looked at his lace
cuffs, the lace edging his shirt finished at the neck with smart
burgundy cravat with a jewelled pin finishing the ensemble. Hill
said: We could do another deal."

St John was
immediately alert: "What sort of deal?"

Hill replied directly: "I heard a soldier
was needed to dismantle the Dunquerque fortifications. Aren't I the
ma
n for the job, honest
jack Hill?"

St John smiled
back: "I had not given it much thought. There should be no problem
finding someone with all these returning soldiers."

Hill put his
proposition bluntly: "I'll take Belle off your hands and give Alice
my blessing. What about it!"

St John hardly
considered before he answered: "Agreed." Then overcome with
embarrassment and talking to overcome it, he said: "Did you read
the report in the Times about Quebec?" He knew Hill had been at sea
so taking his coat slung across the table he fished in a pocket
withdrawing a folded sheet and was about to hand it to Hill who
waved it away saying:

"Read it,
Singeing. I’m seeing double."

St John read
it aloud: "Leaving Boston on the 30th July, the expedition entered
the St Lawrence river on the 21st of August when it began to blow
hard so it was decided to heave-to until the wind dropped which it
did towards evening and the admiral decided to proceed. Two hours
later a thick fog blown in by an easterly enveloped the fleet
though the decision was taken with the pilot's advice to lie-to for
the night. However in the early hours of the morning, several of
the transports began to drag their anchors and drift on to the
north shore. Thus occurred the events which the pilots had planned
to avert and nothing could prevent as ships began drifting onto the
rocks and tiny islands just off the north shore. The commanding
officer, rear-admiral Hovendon Walker came up upon the deck of his
flagship, the Cumberland and watched helplessly as eight of his
transports were wrecked.

At a council
of war some days later when all further hope of rescue had been
abandoned, a tally was taken of the losses. Some nine hundred men
had perished and their ships had become a total wreck, but most
significant was the fact that one of the ships lost had been the
main victualling transport so that the expedition had sufficient
provisions for just ten weeks. Returning to Boston would have
delayed the project by six weeks. Furthermore the Quebec garrison
was now already alerted to the intention of the expedition. In the
circumstances the decision was made to return to St Helens, England
on account of their low food supplies."

When St John
had finished reading, he put the paper down and said nothing more.
Neither did Hill who was startled by Alice who said abruptly to her
brother: "Where were you all this time, Jack?"

He did not
look at her or at any of them. He stared at the table, finding an
interest in the scratched initials of some doodler, then realising
the initials were his, JH, and he pointed this out to everyone like
a small boy who had suddenly found a nest filled with eggs, one of
his pursuits as a child, but Alice was not that easily diverted and
repeated the question.

Jack fiddled
with his tankard before finally admitting that he had been dead
drunk and had slept through the whole disaster on the flag
ship.

St John clicked his teeth and simply said:
"Bad luck!" Then he turned his attention to Alice
repeating his offer of a
lift.

While the men
had been talking business and their future relationships with the
two ladies, the two ladies, Alice and Belle, had decided their
course of future action. Belle was to return to the palace in her
stead and pass on Alice's message to the Household Comptroller and
Alice was, in her turn, to ask Mr St John if he would kindly show
her around his office in Whitehall. So with the whole party in
general agreement, Brigadier Hill took Alice back to the palace
while St John was happy to see Mistress Alice safely esconced in
his cabriolet for the very pleasant journey to Whitehall and his
offices of Secretary of State.

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

St John turned
his cabriolet towards Whitehall and whereas he might have applied
the whip to be there as quickly as possible he was content that his
team settled down to a gentle trot. He was not a little puzzled
comparing his conversation with Brigadier Hill and the way things
had turned out. He thought he would offset her likely
disappointment at the sight of his offices by warning her in
advance:

"I am afraid
you will find a great difference between my office and St James
Palace. For a start the building was formerly a church and has been
adapted to the needs of parliament. You will see partitions where
offices have been separated off."

Alice was
going over her words with Belle and wondering how the girl would
get on. She looked at her companion intent on the road and
wondering about the man beneath the wig. She recalled entering the
Comptroller's room and seeing the official asleep; his periwig had
slipped and the stern faced officer who had lectured her about her
duties, was a grey haired old man who looked rather pathetic. She
listened to his words and said reassuringly:

"Have no fears
on my account, Mr St John. I am well accustomed to appearances not
being all they seem to be."

He was silent
as he assimilated her words and happy to concern himself with the
traffic. She pondered upon her recent appointment as Keeper of the
Privy Purse and inwardly laughed over her fears beforehand about
the duties but now several months into the position, she realised
like most such positions at the Palace there were no duties. The
duties attached to the Privy Purse had disappeared as new methods
of finance had developed. She recalled that her majesty had paid
her a visit thinking to comfort her but who obviously was
completely ignorant of such duties. Yet she hoped Belle would be
left in peace.

Alice once more turned her attention to
her companion. He was worth the risk of displeasing her majesty and
her brother seemed to think so too otherwise he would scarcely have
already told her to make his better acquaintance. Perhaps St John
might help her towards another preferment which was vacant, the
Keeper of the Stole, now that the queen had dismissed the Duchess
of Marlborough.
So she had everything to go for.

St John's next
words burst in upon her thoughts: "We can skip Whitehall, if you
like. A friend of mine has loaned me his house in Duke Street while
he is in France." He stopped, mad with his stupidity, yet Alice
scarcely gave his faux-pas a mention, replying:

"You mean Mr
Prior, do you not?"

St John stole
a quick glance at her from the road and said petulantly:

"If you know,
Mistress Hill. How many others are there? It is supposed to be a
secret."

Alice mocked him: "Now, Mr St John are you
keeping any secrets from the palace? Shame on you!" She shifted on
the bench and he felt her proximity as the seat dipped in the
middle. As he did not reply, she said:
"If ye queen talks about ye peace with your friend
Mr Harley, ye earl of Oxford." She was parodying her mistress, the
queen, and St John flushed though she carried on: "Besides ye queen
consults with my sister. Is it any wonder I should know about Mr
Prior and all his doings. We call him Matt."

St John was taken by a chuckle which
turned into a laugh then a loud guffaw, and she turned sideways
being amused herself as his laughter was infectious though hardly
knowing the reason for the mirth.
St John explained:

"Oh, Mistress
Alice, it is so droll. In the House we meet in corners scarcely
daring to whisper lest the secret slip out whereas just a mile away
in the palace, the peace is the subject of general gossip. Till now
I thought Mr Prior was an unknown."

Alice said
defiantly: "In the palace, we call it Matt's Peace. I daresay Mr
Prior is better known than many a lord though he deserves to
be."

As she said
this, St John indicated with his whip, shouting now as the noise of
horses’ hooves was deafening. Alice looked in the direction
indicated and was disappointed. St John read her thoughts as they
were held up by a driver that decided to turn around. He said: "I
hope you are not too disappointed. As you see it is far from being
a palace which mayhaps is understandable as it was once a church.
After the reformation London needed fewer churches. Many of the
faith predicted dire consequences yet they were spared by the Great
Fire whereas many still consecrated churches were consumed. Is
there a message in that from the Good Lord?"

The hold-up
over, St John brought the team to a standstill in front of the
church and, Alice, somewhat dispirited said: "I see what you mean,
sir." No sooner had the cabriolet stopped then a black coated
gentleman ran up to St John calling:

"Sir, sir.
Praise be you have come at last. I have here an express from
Walmer." So saying he thrust a sealed envelope heavily waxed into
St John's hands while he called: "Shall you alight, sir? Or would
like to read it beforehand? It must be urgent, I think."

St John ripped
open the envelope as he sat in the cab, scanned it and called to
the steward: "I must inside. Help the lady down, if you please." St
John held the reins as Alice alighted but threw them over the
splashback before jumping down himself.

"Boy!" The
steward called to an urchin no bigger than eight years of age who
on instruction held the bridle while the steward led the way
inside. St John showed Alice to his office partitioned off where he
showed her to a straight-backed seat promising he would not be
long.

Across the
passage he went into his steward’s cubicle and said: "It's from
Macky, Chalmers. There has been a misunderstanding about Mr Prior
and he is being held in Walmer Castle until official identification
is forthcoming. I must to Deal, first thing tomorrow. What is your
opinion, Chalmers?"

"My
speculation about the source was correct, sir. John Macky's seal is
unmistakeable, and I speculated my dear sir. I did indeed. Your
decision is spot on. I said to myself, Chalmers, I said, what will
Mr St John do, and my speculation sir was spot on."

An amused St
John said: "Shall I take the cab? What is your opinion,
Chalmers?"

"I speculated
about this very thing, sir. I said to myself what is the quickest
way for Mr St John to reach Walmer."

"And your
decision?" asked St John.

"Beauty, sir.
She is fast and a stayer. Take some official accredidation with
you, sir. You can never know what idiot you will meet, sir."

"Think you
they are dunderheads, at Walmer, Chalmers?"

"My suggestion
concerned the taverns sir. It is near eighty miles, or I'm a
Dutchman."

"We have
enough of that breed already, Chalmers. Do not be adding to their
number."

Chalmers
smiled and simply said: "Eighty miles it is, sir."

"How did it
happen, Chalmers?"

Chalmers might
have told the Secretary of State that the fault was entirely St
John's but diplomatically included himself in blame saying:

"We thought an
earl would be that much more secure than a commoner." he smiled
wistfully as if recalling the fact that his predecessor Robert
Harley would not have made the same mistake, and added: "what we
forget sir was her majesty's three-line power in the name of Mathew
Prior. Do not blame the soldiers at Walmer. One person with two
identities arriving from France, it screams: Spy! Who can say that
none of us would arrive at a similar conclusion in the
circumstances, sir?

St John nodded
ruefully as he came back to face his steward having paced up and
down during his speech, saying mournfully:

"You are right
Chalmers. I must take my share of the blame." Then remembering
Alice he rushed to the door turning to ask: "When is it light
tomorrow?"

Chalmers reassured him: "Be here at five,
sir.
I'll do the
rest."

St John rushed
back where he had left Alice though he need not have concerned
himself for she was reading correspondence that he knew had been
stamped MOST SECRET and gently dislodging her fingers therefrom,
turned it round to show the two words. She smiled sweetly at him
and his heart melted while his brain turned to mush and which could
barely distinguish her words: "I knew it was the queen's work; her
spelling is worse than a kitchen-maid's."

He tried to
tell her as they left there had been a change of plan but she was
unperturbed asking him to return her to the palace where as a privy
counseller she was entitled to free carriage home. On their way
thither while his thoughts were of his imminent journey she spoke
of her sister, that she was planning to persuade her to some
recreation. Alice thought the clean, clear air of a river journey
would be ideal for a woman recovering from a pregnancy and who had
returned to her duties too soon for her own good. Her majesty will
be only too pleased for the both of us to spend the day somewhere;
as long as Abigail is back by the evening.

St John had
caught these last few words of his companion and said
absent-mindedly: "What was that you spoke of Abigail. Is it of Mrs
Masham, you speak. It seems the country owes a lot to her. I would
so wish to make her acquaintance upon my return."

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