Anne was just the sort of person to fall under the dominion of any one whose will was stronger than her own. The Queen, in fact, was queen but in name. It was Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, who managed the affairs of the kingdom, and who regulated the royal household. It was the Duchess of Marlborough® who turned out the Tories, and put the Whig party in office, who gave away the places of sempstress to the Queen, of page of the backstairs, and of royal coffeebearer.

Sarah was a very different woman to her royal mistress. Rough, rude, over-bearing, of shrewish temper and undignified manners, over-riding, or attempting to over-ride, the noblest ladies of England; avaricious, grasping, and heedless of everything that did not immediately concern herself; possessing an utter disregard for truth, and perfectly unscrupulous as to the means she employed, so long as her own selfish ends were secured. In a word, she stands prominently forward as the most unlovely picture of the fair sex that English history can produce. Such a woman was Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, and such a woman she was both proud and pleased to be. In her published

vindiction of her conduct she relates how she browbeat the Queen, and how, on one occasion, told her royal mistress "not to answer her;" how she hen-pecked her husband; how ill-mannered and rude she was to the Court ladies, and with what lofty contempt they treated her in return. When at last the Queen grew weary of her, she declared that her Majesty-to whom she owed everything-was the "most ignorant and helpless creature living."

The Duchess was in the hey-dey of her influence when her mistress ascended the throne. She was appointed Groom of the State, Mistress of the Robes, Keeper of the Privy Purse, Ranger of Windsor Park. Anne, the Queen, treated her as Anne the Princess had done. In their correspondence, all court etiquette was laid aside. The Duchess assumed the name of Mrs. Freeman, while her royal mistress signed herself, "your faithful Morley," which after the death of the Duke of Gloucester, became " your poor unfortunate faithful Morley;" Prince George was Mr. Morley, and the Duke, Mr. Freeman. On many points Mr. and Mrs. Freeman disagreed, on one at least they were perfectly at accord, the Queen was made for their benefit. She was a

mine of wealth, "a valuable estate," a bank where the only investments were the sharp words, contradictions and violence, by means of which the Duchess ruled her easily terrified mistress.

Such was the state of affairs at Kensington at the time of the accession of Anne. The war with France commenced a few months later, and Marlborough was placed at the head of the allied forces.

Kensington, of course, has nothing to do with Marlborough's victories; but it has a great deal to do with the ultimate object of the war. The traveller may hear on the banks of the Danube how the French lost 40,000 men at Blenheim, or he may be shown, on the grassy plains of South Brabant, the site of the battle of Ramilles. What a thrill of exultation passes through our hearts as we speak of Oudenarde or Malplaquet! We may, however, very naturally ask what did England gain by all these victories, all this loss of men, and of money? Looking at the provisions of peace of Utrecht, we find that the only substantial benefit derived from the war, was the acquisition of Gibraltar; and even that fortress may be considered somewhat dear at the price of seventy millions sterling. How

then was this? Why did not England reap the fruit of her victories? The answer is simple. The real conflict was fought, not on the blood-stained banks of the Danube, or the Schelde, but in the Queen's closet at Kensington. As long as the Whigs remained in office the struggle would be continued, for they were for war, unless very high terms indeed were acceded to by the French king. The Tories were for peace, at almost any cost. The Queen was at heart a Tory. The Marlboroughs were Whigs. As long then as the Duchess preserved her ascendency over the Queen, the war would continue. That ascendency once gone peace would take place.

Sarah, indeed, had begun to lose ground, She, herself, introduced the enemy. This was Abigail Hill, the daughter of a poor relation, a decayed City merchant. The Duchess made her a bed-chamber woman to the Queen as an inexpensive means of providing for her. Abigail, who by her marriage with one of the Prince's gentlemen, afterwards became Mrs. Masham, supplanted her patroness. The conflict soon began in earnest. The first pitched battle was fought in the summer of 1708, not long before the victory of Oude

narde. Prince George lay ill at Kensington. He was tormented with asthma; and as going up or down stairs aggravated the complaint, both he and the Queen, who was a devoted wife, had their rooms on the ground floor. The Queen would raise him in her arms while the paroxysms of coughing lasted. of coughing lasted. In order that aid might be at hand, some of the Queen's bed-chamber women slept in an adjoining suite of apartments. These rooms, it chanced, had, at the time of Anne's accession, been given to the Duchess, but never occupied by her. Mrs. Masham was installed in the apartments vacated by the bed-chamber women. Some rumours of this reached the fiery Sarah, and she posted down to Kensington in hot-haste, determined to "have it out" with her royal mistress. Several skirmishes took place at the Palace. The result was indecisive; but a different arrangement was made and Mrs. Masham was given another suite of apartments “suitable enough for her grandeur." The Duchess made a great effort at the time of Prince George's death, in the autumn of the same year. Presuming on her privileges, as Mistress of the Robes, she sent in a note, which the Queen received while standing by the bedside of her