“Then you should care,” retorted my father. “James will try to turn us all Catholic … gentle persuasion at first and then … not so gentle. I know the methods. Englishmen will not endure it. James has had every opportunity to reign in peace, but he is obsessed not only by practising his religion but imposing it on the whole country.”
There came the day in the summer of 1688 when a party of men led by Lords Danby, Shrewsbury and Devonshire, and including the Bishop of London, sent an invitation to William inviting him to prepare to come to England. William arrived at Torbay, whither he had been driven by storms at sea, and his ship bore a flag on which were the words: “The Protestant Religion and the Liberties of England”; and beneath this was the motto of the House of Orange: “I will maintain.”
In the September of the year 1689 I gave birth to a daughter. I called her Damaris for no other reason than that I liked the name.
Edwin’s wife, Jane, had a child—a boy whom she called Carleton after my father. He took quite a fancy to the boy and was far more interested in him than in my Damaris.
Sally Nullens was in a fine state about the births because she did not like the thought of new nurses being brought in, although she was now with Carlotta at Eyot Abbas. She reckoned that young Carleton and Damaris were really her babies.
“And what’s to be?” she moaned. “I can’t split myself in two, can I?”
Harriet brought Carlotta over to stay when the babies were born so Sally took over the nursery—temporarily, as my mother said.
Emily Philpots was busy giving lessons to Carlotta and embroidering for the babies.
Harriet was greatly amused. She waylaid me in the garden one day and laughingly said: “I think this is the time to bring our little scheme into motion.”
“How?” I asked.
She put her hands on her hips and gave a good imitation of Sally. “‘I can’t split myself in two, can I?’ Sad, but true,” she went on. “Well, then since such division is impossible, and Sally can’t be in two places at once, all the children must be in one place.”
I laughed with her, my spirits soaring. “You mean Carlotta will come here?”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“It’s an excellent idea.”
“Of course she will have to come visiting her supposed mamma quite frequently. Do you know, I should miss her if she didn’t.”
“Oh, Harriet, isn’t she the most adorable child you ever saw?”
“She is one of the most scheming, selfish little brats I ever saw. She is full of wiles, already aware of her attractions, which I admit are considerable. She has the art of attracting the opposite sex already at her fingertips. You see how she is throwing her web around Robert Frinton, who is becoming quite besotted … naming his cupboard after her! All this is going to her head.”
“But she is unusual. You must admit that, Harriet.”
“She will have to be guarded carefully; otherwise we shall have trouble there. She will mature early. You know, she is amazingly like me. Sometimes I think fate is having a little joke. She might be my daughter more easily than yours.”
“I suppose it is living so near you.”
“She lives nearer to Sally but I see no resemblance between them—thank God. But is this not a heaven-sent opportunity?”
“You mean she shall come over to our nurseries and be looked after by Sally who, with Emily, will move back to us?”
“A very sensible arrangement. Then, my dear Priscilla, you can glory in your offspring to your heart’s content.”
“Oh, Harriet, you are so good.”
“For heaven’s sake, child, you must be blind. I am only good when it is no trouble to be. I’m a little tired of the role of mother. I never thought I played it very well. Though I was very good as the expectant mother. But expectancy is always so interesting. It is the reality which can pall. I’ll speak to your mother about it. Then I’ll tell Sally. She will be filled with bliss. Greedy old thing! She wouldn’t give up one of her babies to some poor deserving nurse. Emily Philpots is such another.”
She kept her word and did speak to my mother.
My mother gravely came to me at once to tell me what had been arranged.
I said: “It is really an excellent idea. Sally will be delighted and so will Emily.”
“It saves having two nurseries where one will do. And I am sure Sally would have been unbearably critical about everything that happened in the nursery. You’re delighted, I can see. You can have your Carlotta under your eyes every day.”
I laughed. “She is an adorable child,” I said.
“Handsome, yes, but quite spoiled. She needs more discipline. I shall speak to Sally. You know, Sally is as bad as everyone else where that child is concerned.”
“Sally loves her.”
“Sally loves all babies. But I must say I think Harriet is rather an unnatural mother. She always was. When I think of her leaving Leigh as she did … when he was only a few months old …”
“Harriet is a good friend, though.”
My mother shrugged her shoulders. Although she agreed that it was a good, practical idea for the children all to be under one roof, she did not approve of Harriet’s action.
That was why that year was a happy one for me. What I had so desired had come about in a natural way. I had my new baby and my own Carlotta and I was with them every day. Leigh was away a good deal and I was anxious for him, but I had the comfort of my children and I was happier than I had been since Jocelyn’s death.
Then there was consternation in our household. My mother knew that if it came to war she would not be able to prevent my father’s sharing in it. One day he was missing and she found he had gone, leaving a note for her.
I found her seated in the window, the letter in her hand and a look of blank despair on her face.
“He’s gone,” she said. “I knew it was in his mind. I knew I kept him against his will.”
I took the letter from her and read:
My dearest,
I could not tell you. I knew you would unnerve me. You would have made me stay. I cannot. I must go. So much is at stake. Our future depends on it … the future of our grandchildren. Understand, dear Bella, I must go. You will be in my thoughts every minute. God bless you.
Carleton
She murmured: “It is like an evil pattern. Oh, God, if he should be taken again … as he was before …”
“Perhaps this will be over soon. They say the King hasn’t a chance.”
“He defeated Monmouth.”
“It was before he had shown that he was not a good King.”
Then a terrible thought struck me. Leigh would be involved in this. He was in the King’s army. My father would be on a different side from my husband. I knew that Leigh had no great respect for the King, but he was in the King’s service and a soldier’s first duty was loyalty.
I could not bear to think of what might be the outcome.
As for my mother, I was afraid she was going to be ill again as she had been in Dorchester.
The coming of William of Orange had set James attempting to rally men to his cause. There would be war, and the people remembered that other war of not so very long ago. The last thing they wanted was civil war—Englishmen fighting Englishmen. There was little glory to be gained and a great deal of sorrow. “No war!” declared the people.
I rejoiced when I heard that the Duke of Marlborough had deserted the King and gone over to William. That meant that Leigh and my father would not be on opposing sides. Everybody was deserting the King. I could feel sorry for him, although I knew he had brought this on himself by his obstinacy and foolishness. His daughter was the wife of the man he would call the usurper; his second daughter, Anne, with her husband, the Prince of Denmark, had turned against her father and was supporting her sister and brother-in-law.