The King visited the Princess just before New Year on the grounds that it was ‘an ungenerous thing to fall out with a woman’, and said he had no desire to live on poor terms with her. Anne responded politely, but since she failed to follow this up by making friendly overtures to Mary, the Queen dismissed her words as empty.17
It was not money matters alone that caused tension within the royal family. William’s policies were far from universally popular and the King and Queen soon came to suspect that Anne was giving encouragement to their critics. William was viewed in some quarters as insufficiently protective of the Church of England. Already upset by the fact that episcopacy was abolished in Scotland following the Revolution, in March 1689 ardent Anglicans had been outraged when William had indicated that he favoured altering the law so that Protestant dissenters were no longer barred from public office if they did not take Anglican communion. The proposal stirred up so much fury among High Tories, who considered themselves the guardians of the Church of England, that it had to be abandoned, but they could not prevent the passage of a Toleration Act, which enabled dissenters to practise their religion. Those who found this deplorable were further angered by royal treatment of Anglican clergy, including eight bishops, who declined to take the oath of allegiance to the new monarchs on grounds of conscience. In February 1690 they were deprived of their benefices, fuelling the displeasure of those who condemned William for ‘manifestly undermining … the prosperity of the Church of England’.18
Anne showed herself sympathetic to such views by deliberately distancing herself from William and Mary’s approach to Church matters. When Mary changed the order of communion in the Chapel Royal, Anne pretended that ill health obliged her to receive the sacrament elsewhere. She also poured scorn on other innovations introduced by the Queen. Mary noted bitterly that her sister ‘affected to find fault with everything was done, especially to laugh at afternoon sermons and doing in little things contrary to what I did’. She considered it pointless to remonstrate, as ‘I saw plainly she was so absolutely governed by Lady Marlborough that it was to no purpose’.19
The King and Queen both believed that republicans posed a serious danger to the monarchy, while the supporters of James II (known as ‘Jacobites’ by 1690) threatened the kingdom’s stability in other ways. In the summer of 1690 the first of many plots to restore James was uncovered. Hostility from committed opponents of the regime was only to be expected, but Mary was haunted by the possibility that her sister was ‘forming a third’ party of malcontents.20
Even if not actively disloyal, many people were disenchanted, and it was feared that Anne could exploit this. It had not taken long for anti-Dutch sentiment to surface in England, and comments later made by Anne show that she was not immune from such feelings. Taxation had reached levels unseen since Cromwellian times, which naturally made the government more unpopular. Mary had considerable charm, but William’s gruff manner won him few friends, and the fact that his asthma obliged him to live out of London at either Kensington or Hampton Court meant that ‘the gaiety and diversions of a court disappeared’, causing ‘general disgust’. By January 1690 Evelyn perceived ‘as universal a discontent against K[ing] William … as was before against K[ing] James’, and in these circumstances Anne’s behaviour made the King and Queen uneasy. Having themselves benefited during the last reign from Anne’s disloyalty towards the incumbent monarch, they now feared that she would turn on them. Their distrust of her was heightened by the fact that ‘her servants who had seats in Parliament were observed to be very well with those whom the court had least reason to be fond of’. Accordingly the Cockpit came to be regarded as a centre of disaffection, not least because it was reported that ‘many rude things were daily said at that court’.21
In April 1690 Anne made an attempt at rapprochement, visiting Mary following her recovery from a brief but worrying illness, and asking ‘pardon for what was past’. Unfortunately the Princess then spoiled the effect by asking that her allowance be raised by a further £20,000 a year, which William curtly rejected. The King and Queen did not doubt that Lady Marlborough had encouraged Anne to make this unwelcome demand, and this sharpened their dislike of both Sarah and her husband.22
Anne in her turn felt hard done by, for she still believed she deserved an allowance of £70,000 a year. As it was, she remained perpetually short of cash, something that might have been largely attributable to Sir Benjamin Bathurst’s incompetent, or even dishonest handling of her finances. On several occasions when Anne applied to him for money he told her none was available, forcing her to delay settling her obligations. In the Princess’s view however, the fault lay not with poor management, but with William and Mary.
Matters did not improve when in June 1690 George accompanied William at his own expense on a military expedition against James II’s forces in Ireland. Throughout the campaign William treated him with insulting indifference, taking no ‘more notice of him than if he had been a page of the backstairs’. The King refused to let the Prince travel with him in his coach, and no mention was made of George in the official Gazette even though he had been close by the King when William was slightly wounded on 30 June. The following day George was at his side again when William crossed the river Boyne and won a notable victory against the Jacobite army. The result was that James fled back to France, leaving his Irish supporters to continue the fight against William in his name. To add to George’s frustration, while he was in Ireland he had great difficulty staying in touch with his wife, for couriers set off for England without waiting for his missives. The Earl of Nottingham had to write to Ireland to ask that in future George would be told whenever an express delivery was sent, because the Princess, who was pregnant once again, ‘was very uneasy that she had no letters by the last messenger’.23
In England meanwhile, the two sisters had not become any closer in their menfolk’s absence. They should have been drawn together by mutual sympathy, for in addition to the usual strains experienced by the wives of men on active service, they had to face the possibility that their father would be killed during the campaign. Mary was under great stress at the time, for though William normally dealt with all affairs of State, in his absence Mary was ruling the country in conjunction with nine Lords Justices. She lamented that ‘business, being a thing I am so new in, and so unfit for, does but break my brains’, but Anne remained ‘of a humour so reserved I could have little comfort from her’.24
While acknowledging that ‘for my humour I know I am morose and grave and therefore may not be so pleasing to her as other company’ Anne pointed out that she dined regularly with the Queen and was ‘with her as often and as long at a time as I could’. On most afternoons she stayed with her till three o’clock, but when she offered ‘to be oftener with her if I knew when she was alone’, the Queen did not seem keen on the idea. Anne reported that Mary told her ‘I might easily believe without a compliment she should be very glad of my company but that … she was glad when she could get some time to herself’.25
In early September 1690 William and George returned from Ireland, even though the Jacobites had not been fully ousted. It was naturally a huge relief to Anne to have her husband safely back at home, but the joy of their reunion was soon marred. On 14 October Anne, who was then seven months pregnant, was ‘delivered of a daughter which lived about two hours and was christened and buried privately in Westminster Abbey’.26 Fortunately the Princess was unaware that henceforth she would never produce any child that survived longer than this, but though she recovered swiftly from the physical ill effects of the birth, she was inevitably distressed by her loss.
She could at least derive consolation from her son, who was now just over a year old. She had wanted the child to grow up at Richmond, as she had done, but since William and Mary insisted that the palace there was already fully occupied, she had instead installed him in a borrowed house in Bayswater. A year later she had taken, at an extortionate rent,