Queen Anne: The Politics of Passion

In August 1682 Prince Rupert renewed his match-making efforts on behalf of Anne and Prince George Ludwig of Hanover. He wrote his sister Sophia another letter on the subject of the ‘marriage in question’, telling her that ‘as for the young lady, I assure you she is intelligent and very well brought up’. By the end of the month Rupert reported that he had secured what he considered to be excellent terms, with the Duke of York offering to give Anne a dowry of £40,000 and an income of £10,000 a year. However, George Ludwig’s parents were simultaneously engaged in negotiations to marry their son to his first cousin, Sophia Dorothea of Celle. The girl’s mother was not of royal birth, but Sophia of Hanover was mindful that ‘Miss Hyde’s lineage was no better’, and the Celle match was politically and financially advantageous.108

The news of Prince George’s betrothal to Sophia Dorothea arrived in England early in September 1682, whereupon King Charles took ‘some exception’ at being ‘disappointed in our expectation of having the Prince of Hanover for the Lady Anne’. A British diplomat stationed in Hanover considered this unreasonable, as the negotiations for Anne’s hand had remained on an informal footing. He pointed out that ‘there never was any proposals made of either side’, but this envoy had other motives: he was about to be posted to another country, and he did not want to be forbidden from receiving the generous presents customarily given to departing envoys.109

It would be alleged that Anne herself never forgot the ‘supposed slight’ of being spurned by Prince George Ludwig of Hanover. One account suggested that she had been offended because he had come to England with a view to marrying her and then ‘not liking her person he left the kingdom’. In fact, it was duty not desire that had led the Prince away from Anne: his mother noted he would ‘marry a cripple if he could serve the house’, while he felt a private ‘repugnance’ at the prospect of marrying Sophia Dorothea.110 Conceivably, however, Anne did gain some inkling that George Ludwig’s parents did not consider her birth to be sufficiently illustrious, and this would hardly have made her better disposed to the House of Hanover.

It is possible too that the collapse of the marriage plan did cause her some pain. A letter from George to Prince Rupert’s mistress Peg Hughes suggests that she had been teasing him about Anne, telling him that he would do well to marry a girl who was so keen on him. After becoming engaged he wrote to Peg thanking her for the advice but saying that it was no longer possible for him to follow it. He continued stolidly,

I have never really been aware of the intentions of Madam the Princess Anne, and I do not know them now … It’s true that I recall you talked to me of her on several occasions, but as I took that as a joke I paid no attention. However you may be sure, Madam, that no one could be more the servitor of Madam the Princess than I, and the marriage I am about to make will not hinder that.

In the long term, Anne had no cause to regret the failure of the Hanover match. Her own later marriage to Prince George of Denmark was a source of great happiness, and was certainly more successful than George of Hanover’s union, which ended after his wife’s lover was murdered in mysterious circumstances. Having divorced Sophia Dorothea, George imprisoned her for life; as Queen, Anne would be dragged into the affair when Sophia Dorothea’s mother vainly appealed to her to secure her daughter’s freedom.111

In autumn 1682, with her future still uncertain, Anne became involved in an embarrassing scandal. At the end of October the Earl of Mulgrave was expelled from court and deprived of his official posts and army regiment for ‘writing to the Lady Anne’. Mulgrave was a thirty-four-year-old rake whose arrogance had earned him the nickname ‘Haughty’. He prided himself on being ‘the terror of husbands’, and two years before this he had been sent to Tangier in a leaky boat for behaving too amorously towards the King’s mistresses. How far matters had gone between him and Anne was a matter for speculation. There was fanciful talk of a secret marriage, but Mulgrave himself insisted that his crime was ‘only ogling’. Others were sure he ‘had often presented her with songs and letters under hand’, and that the King had confiscated one compromising document. It was whispered too that Mulgrave had made ‘brisk attempts’ on Anne’s virtue and some thought he had gone ‘so far as to spoil her marrying to anybody else’.112

The French ambassador reported that Mulgrave’s disgrace was ‘as complete as it ever can be in this country’. It turned out not to be permanent, for having been awarded another regiment in 1684 he was made Lord Chamberlain a few months after James II’s accession. At the time, however, the episode not only exposed Anne to humiliation but was potentially very damaging. ‘Extraordinary rumours are current about this affair’ Louis XIV was told by his ambassador, and unflattering verses mocking Anne and Mulgrave were soon in circulation. One anonymous rhyme sneered that

‘Naughty Nan

Is mad to marry Haughty’.113

For young women and girls the Restoration court was ‘a perilous climate … to breathe in’. In some ways it was a place of astonishingly lax morals. The sexual habits of the King and the Duke of York were widely emulated by rakes and libertines who looked ‘on the maids of honour as playthings’. One young lady in the Duchess of York’s household complained of ‘the impunity with which they attack our innocence’, but the same latitude was not extended to women. Even minor transgressions could result in disgrace and ruin, and their virtue was compromised by the merest hint of scandal. The Marquis of Halifax warned his daughter ‘It will not be enough for you to keep yourself free from any criminal engagements; for if you do that which either raises hopes or createth discourse, there is a spot thrown upon your good name … Your reputation … may be deeply wounded, though your conscience is unconcerned’.114 Judged by these criteria, Anne had opened herself to censure.

Halifax cautioned his daughter that other women would be the first to criticise if she found herself in trouble, and certainly Anne’s sister Mary made a meal of her tribulations. When Frances Apsley (by this time a married woman herself) wrote to Holland to inform her of the scandal, Mary professed herself aghast. ‘For my part I never knew what it was to be so vexed and troubled’ she declared, adding, ‘Not but that I believe my sister very innocent; however, I am so nice upon the point of reputation that it makes me mad she should be exposed to such reports, and now what will not this insolent man say, being provoked?’115

Another ramification of the affair was that Mrs Mary Cornwallis, of the Duchess of York’s Bedchamber – who was said to be ‘in great favour with the Princess Anne’ – was dismissed from her post and ‘ordered never to come into her presence more’. The French ambassador assumed that Mrs Cornwallis had acted as Anne’s confidante, and that ‘there had been a secret correspondence between her and Milord Mulgrave’. However, there might have been other reasons behind her dismissal. Mrs Cornwallis was a Catholic, and Bishop Compton reportedly voiced fears at the Council table ‘of the dangerous consequence such a woman’s being about the princess might have’. Much later the Duchess of Marlborough insinuated that there had been additional grounds for concern. She described Mrs Cornwallis as Anne’s ‘first favourite’ and noted that ‘the fondness of the young lady to her was very great and passionate’. The Duchess recounted that over the past three or four years ‘Lady Anne had written … above a thousand letters full of the most violent professions of everlasting kindness’, to this favoured companion, adding that King Charles ‘used to say “No man ever loved his mistress, as his niece Anne did Mrs Cornwallis”’. Having thus implied that there had been something perverted about Anne’s affection for Mrs Cornwallis, the Duchess went on to suggest that the episode provided evidence of Anne’s inherent disloyalty. She observed that despite her ostensible ‘tenderness and passion’ for her female friend, Anne’s only gesture of solidarity was ‘sending a footman once or twice to desire [Mrs Cornwallis] to stand at her window’ so Anne could glimpse her as she went to walk in Hyde Park. Within a fortnight she ‘seemed as perfectly to have forgot this woman as if she had never heard of her’.116

Anne wrote to Mary in Holland of her distress at being forced to part with her friend, but she received scant sympathy. Mary confided to Frances Apsley, ‘Had I known of the friendship at first I should have done all I could in the world to have broke it off, but I never knew anything … till such time as she was forbid when I heard it from my sister herself, and was very much surprised and troubled to find her concern as great’. She asked Frances to inform her if Anne formed another unsuitable connection ‘that I may endeavour to stop it … for I think nothing more prejudicial to a young woman than ill company’. It appeared that Mary now believed it was incumbent on her to monitor Anne’s friendships, an idea that would later lead to serious trouble.117

The Mulgrave affair had underlined the desirability of finding a husband for Anne, now aged eighteen. The problem was that not many suitable Protestant princes were available. The King knew it would be almost suicidally provocative to follow up one adviser’s suggestion that Anne be married to Louis XIV’s cousin, the Catholic Prince de la Roche sur Yon, but Charles did want to match her with someone agreeable to Louis. In recent years there had been a diplomatic realignment as the King and the Duke of York had grown disenchanted with Prince William of Orange, whom they suspected of favouring exclusion. Instead Charles had accepted financial aid from the French King that enabled him to live without Parliament and acquiesced in his aggressive foreign policy.

Prince George of Denmark, younger brother of King Christian V of Denmark, was a suitor likely to meet with Louis XIV’s approval, because Denmark was an ally of France, and on poor terms with Holland. A distant cousin of Anne – who, like him, was a great grandchild of King Frederick II of Denmark – this George was nearly twelve years older than her. He had been ‘educated in a Prince-like manner’ and when only sixteen had impressed one diplomat with his ‘well grounded acquaintance with several sciences’. Unfortunately a harsh tutor had permanently dented his confidence. After struggling, when very young, to sustain a conversation with Sophia of Hanover, he explained he had been ‘brought up in so much fear that he could not rid himself of’ his shyness. She nevertheless concluded that he had ‘a very good nature and will not lack judgement’, and thought he would make a fine husband.118

In 1668, aged fifteen, Prince George of Denmark had embarked on a European tour, visiting Holland, France, England, and Italy. When in England he was received at court by Charles II and the Queen, although he would not have seen Anne as she was in France at the time. He returned to Copenhagen in 1670, and a few years later ‘gained much reputation’ when he fought in the war between Denmark and Sweden. Having commanded part of the Danish army at Landskrona in 1676, the following year ‘he greatly hazarded his royal person and signalised his valour’ by saving his brother’s life at the Battle of Lunden. When peace returned to Europe he went travelling again, but his future remained unclear. In 1674 he had been talked of as a possible King of Poland, but the Poles had rejected him because he was a Lutheran, and alternative career opportunities were far from numerous. The Elector Palatine commented after meeting George that he did not envy ‘the fate of a brother of a King with children’, although he thought that George probably did not realise how bleak the outlook was.119

It could be assumed that George would regard marriage to the English King’s niece as an enticing prospect. The French ambassador to England, Barrillon, played Cupid by putting George’s name forward as a husband for Anne in February 1683. The King received the idea warmly, and James too was enthusiastic, as this would undermine the Prince of Orange’s position in England. In March Barrillon reported that the English were ‘waiting impatiently’ for the Danes to make overtures on George’s behalf, and within a few weeks Charles II’s Secretary of State, the Earl of Sunderland, was discussing terms with the Danish envoy, the Sieur de Lente. By the end of April matters were far enough advanced for the Danes to be told that George’s lack of wealth was not a problem, as Anne would be provided with money for his upkeep. The only hitch came when the Sieur de Lente sounded out Barrillon as to whether the King could be prevailed upon to alter the succession in George’s favour by disqualifying William of Orange from inheriting the crown. Barrillon replied that at the present juncture the King was doing everything possible to preserve intact the hereditary succession, so it would be most inopportune to try and modify it in this way.120

On 3 May the Danes made a formal proposal, which was ‘very well received’. Later that day it was publicly announced that the King ‘had admitted of a proposal of marriage between Prince George and his niece, for which purpose he was coming over’. Until this point even the majority of the Council had been kept in ignorance of the negotiations, for fear they would oppose the match. A portrait of Anne was sent to Denmark for George to inspect prior to setting out, and possibly Anne was shown a painting of George too. Even if she had not liked what she saw, there was little she could have done, for when it came to marriage a princess could not realistically expect to have any account taken of her preferences. In one respect, however, Anne was fortunate. It was agreed that George would ‘live and keep his court in England’, freeing Anne from the necessity of starting life anew in a foreign country.121

It was settled that Anne and George would receive an annual income of £20,000, comprising £10,000 a year from the King and the remainder from her father. This was to be supplemented by George’s own revenues, which derived from lands confiscated from the Duke of Holstein and conferred on him at the end of the last war between Denmark and Sweden. The income was estimated at £15,000, but rarely yielded so much in practice. As a wedding present the King also conferred on his niece the grant of the Cockpit lodgings at Whitehall, ensuring that she and her new husband were comfortably accommodated.122

The news of Anne’s forthcoming marriage was not universally well received. Some people expressed concern that George was a Lutheran rather than a Calvinist, but, according to Gilbert Burnet, the main reason the marriage ‘did not at all please the nation’ was that ‘we knew that the proposition came from France’. The French, meanwhile, congratulated themselves on having arranged a match designed ‘to imbue the Prince of Orange with bitter distress and to put a curb on the Dutch’.123

As expected, Prince William of Orange was duly ‘filled with consternation’ when his father-in-law informed him that the Danish proposal had been accepted. Quite apart from the unfavourable political implications, he knew Prince George and considered him a dolt, and had no desire to have him as a brother-in-law. William at once requested permission to come to England, but since it was clear that his object was to avert the marriage, he was told that a visit would not be convenient at this point. William had to settle for writing to his uncle Charles, warning of the perils of letting French power go unchecked, but the King felt free to ignore this. Charles was equally unimpressed when he was informed that William had been enraged to learn that as the son of a king, Prince George would take precedence over him at the English court. William was told there could be no question of modifying the rules in his favour, whereupon his emissary declared that he would never come to England while George was there.124

Some people concluded that Louis XIV’s whole object in arranging this marriage was to match Anne with a prince who would not ‘be able ever to prejudice him or strengthen the Protestant interest’. However, as the Duke of Ormonde pointed out, France and Denmark would not necessarily remain allies forever. In his view it was undeniably ‘time the lady should be married and … fit she should have a Protestant, and where to find one so readily, they that mislike this match cannot tell’. And indeed, in time Prince George grew ‘strongly opposed’ to the power of France. After Charles II’s death he even criticised the late King for having been too much in pocket of Louis XIV.125

Having been urged by King Charles to come to England without delay, George set out as soon as the terms of the marriage contract had been outlined to him, arriving on 19 July. He found England in a state of alert, for a ‘horrid conspiracy’ had recently been thwarted. Various notables had planned to stage risings in different parts of the country, while a subset of extremists had actually proposed to assassinate the King. Consequently the atmosphere at court was somewhat strained, and ‘his majesty very melancholic and not stirring without redoubled guards’. On 13 July Lord Russell had been tried and found guilty of treason, and another suspect, Lord Essex, had committed suicide in the Tower. The day after Prince George’s arrival in England several minor figures in the plot were executed, and Lord Russell’s black-draped scaffold was being constructed in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, ready for his execution on 21 July.126 It hardly formed the ideal backdrop to a royal wedding celebration.

After landing Prince George was taken to meet the King, the Duke of York and their respective wives. ‘From thence he waited on the Lady Anne’ at St James’s Palace where he ‘saluted her cheek’ with a kiss. One observer declared that the ‘handsome fresh coloured young prince’ made a good impression on all he encountered. ‘I think nobody could please better and more universally in one afternoon than he hath done’ declared an enthusiast, and another approving report described George as ‘a very comely person, fair hair, a few pock holes in his visage, but of very decent and graceful behaviour’. Others were more guarded. John Evelyn summed him up as having ‘the Danish countenance, blond, a young gentleman of few words, spake French but ill, seemed somewhat heavy’. The French ambassador, who should have been basking in his diplomatic triumph, was very sparing in his praise. ‘His person has nothing shocking about it, he appears sensible and reserved’, was his initial tepid comment. A little later he added that George struck people as ‘neither good nor bad, but he is a bit fat’.127

On 23 July Anne and George went to the theatre and sat in one box together. Over the next few days they got to know one another better, with Anne informing Frances Apsley ‘the Prince stays with me every day from dinner to prayers’. After prayers, they would see one another again until the time came for Anne to go to Whitehall to play cards. On the strength of this brief acquaintance Anne was able to form a positive opinion of her prospective bridegroom, and the day before the wedding Frances Apsley wrote to Mary to let her know. Mary replied ‘You may believe ’twas no small joy to me to hear she liked him and I hope she will do so every day more and more, for else I am sure she can’t love him, and without that ’tis impossible to be happy’.128

The wedding took place on 28 July 1683 at St James’s. It was a muted affair, as the King had said ‘he did not want any pomp and ceremony’. The service was performed by Bishop Compton, and was attended only by Anne’s immediate family. Afterwards the King and Queen were guests of honour at the wedding supper, and stayed at St James’s till the couple were bedded. It is not recorded if Charles showed the same exuberance as he had on William and Mary’s wedding night, when he had drawn the bed curtains with a lusty cry of ‘Now nephew, to your work! Hey! St George for England!’129

Almost immediately the royal family left London for their summer holidays, and the newlyweds accompanied them to Windsor. After a time they moved on to Winchester, where the King was planning to build a great palace. As Queen, Anne had hopes of bringing this project to conclusion, but it was never finished. In Hampshire she and George had a bucolic honeymoon, during which Anne enjoyed buck and hare hunting.130 Afterwards, the court continued on a westward progress, stopping to see Salisbury Cathedral and Wilton. They then sailed along a stretch of the South coast on the royal yacht before returning to London via Winchester.

Back in the capital, Anne and George moved into the suite of rooms allocated them at the Cockpit in Whitehall. This was part of a complex of buildings situated on the western side of King Street, spanned by Whitehall Palace. As its name suggested, Henry VIII had built it as an arena for cock fights, but it had long since been converted into lodgings for favoured courtiers. It was a spacious and luxurious apartment, measuring 210 feet in length and 140 feet at its widest part, and overlooked St James’s Park. The King had paid £6,500 to buy back the lease from its most recent occupant, and then conferred it in perpetuity on ‘Lady Anne … and … her heirs male’ in return for a peppercorn rent of 6s. 8d.131

As Anne and George settled down to married life together, it soon became apparent that they were remarkably compatible. With the sole exception of the Duchess of Marlborough, everyone agreed that they were an exceptionally devoted couple. Twenty-five years later it was said at George’s funeral, ‘Never did a happier pair come together’. Anne was described as ‘an extraordinarily tender and affectionate wife’ while George ‘lived in all respects the happiest with his princess that was possible’. George was so notable for his marital fidelity, ‘a virtue … not often to be found in courts in these degenerate and licentious ages’, that it was said that envy itself would ‘bear witness to the chastity and entire love of this most happy pair’. He and Anne had an admirable ‘conformity of humour, preferring privacy and a retired life to high society and grand entertainments’. They were both (as Anne herself put it) ‘poor in words’, but with each other they were completely at ease. At a time when some aristocratic husbands and wives led virtually separate existences Anne and George were unusual for their companionable way of life. One observer noted ‘The Prince and she use to spend extraordinary much time together in conversation daily, scarce any occurrent can cause an intermission’.132

George was an amiable and undemanding man. ‘Blessed from heaven with … a mild and sweet temper’, he was ‘mighty easy to all his servants’ and invariably ‘affable and kind in … his addresses’. At a time when men were entitled to act as domestic tyrants, he was a particularly easy-going husband, permitting himself, in the opinion of some people, to be ‘entirely governed’ by his wife. His conciliatory disposition was so well known that when Anne and her sister Mary fell out after the Revolution, Sophia of Hanover had no doubt that George bore no responsibility for the rift. Only the Duchess of Marlborough stuck a discordant note, alleging that Anne loved the Prince less than commonly supposed, and that he had a spiteful side. According to her ‘His great employment, when he was not engaged in play, was to stand upon a stair head or at a window and make ill natured remarks upon all that passed by. And this became so remarkable that the Princess was often known to be uneasy at the figure his highness made whilst he was entertaining himself with so princely an amusement’.133

George came to look on England as ‘my native country … by the most endearing tie become so’, and developed into ‘so hardy an Englishman that it was visible to all who were about him’. He acquired a reputation for being ‘the most indolent of all mankind’, but he did enjoy country sports such as hunting and shooting. Unfortunately he was not active enough to counter his tendency to plumpness. On his arrival Charles had advised him ‘Walk with me, hunt with my brother and do justice to my niece and you will not be fat’, but though Anne’s numerous pregnancies show that George conscientiously carried out the last injunction, this did not prevent him becoming alarmingly overweight.134