atters of State. 'Twas indeed at this time
that the changes were taking place in her Majesty's councils, and his
anticipation of a ministerial revolution had so emboldened King Louis
that he had ventured to make private overtures to the royal lady's
confidential advisers. "What we lose in Flanders we shall gain in
England," Marlborough's French enemy, Torcy, had said. And between the
anger and murmurs of a people who had turned to rend a whilom idol, the
intrigues and cabals about the throne, the quarrels of her counsellors
and ladies of the bedchamber, and the passionate reproaches of the
strongest and most indomitable of female tyrants, 'twas small wonder a
dull, ease-loving woman, feeling the burden of her royalty all too
wearisome and heavy, should turn with almost pathetic insistence to a
man young enough to be her son, attractive enough to be a favourite,
high enough to be impeccable, and of such clear wit, strength of will
and resource, and power over herself and others as seemed to set him
apart from all the rest of those who gathered to clamour about her. In
truth, my lord Duke's value to her Majesty was founded greatly upon
that which had drawn his Grace of Marlborough to him. He wanted
nothing; all the others had some desire to gain, secret or avowed. The
woman who had so longed for unregal feminine intimacy and companionship
that with her favoured attendant she had played a comedy of private
life--doffing her queenship and becoming simple "Mrs. Morley," that
with "Mrs. Freeman," at least, she might forget she was a Queen--was
not formed by Nature to combat with State intrigues and Court
duplicities.

"I am given no quiet," the poor august lady said. "These people who
resign places and demand them, who call meetings and create a ferment,
these ladies who vituperate and clamour like deserted lovers, weary me.
Your Grace's strength brings me repose!"

And as the father had felt sympathy and pity for poor Catherine of
Braganza in Charles the Second's day, so the son felt pity and gave
what support he could to poor bullied and bewildered Queen Anne. To
him her queenship was truly the lesser thing, her helpless, somewhat
heavy-witted and easily wavering womanhood the greater; and there were
those who feared him, for such reasons as few men in his position had
been feared before.

His Grace had been but two days in town, and on the morning of the
second had driven in his chariot to Kensington, and had an audienc