The beginning of the building was most auspicious.  In 1705, the year after Blenheim, Queen Anne, in accordance with an address of the Commons, granted Marlborough the royal estate of which Woodstock was the center, with moneys to build a suitable house.  The nation was anxious to show its gratitude to the General under whom English troops had won their first considerable victory on foreign soil since Agincourt; the Queen was for doing all in her power for her dear Mrs. Freeman; Marlborough saw in the scheme a dignified and legitimate method of perpetuating his fame; and so Vanbrugh was commissioned to build a house which should be worthy of all three.  The work was at once begun on the existing scale.  Difficulties sprang up when the Duchess began to lose, by her abuse of it, the power which she had always possessed over the Queen; when, too, it was seen that the architect’s estimate bore no sort of relation to the actual cost.  Vanbrugh was often in the greatest straits for money, and wrote piteously to the Duchess and the Lord Treasurer Godolphin without the slightest effect.  Things naturally grew worse when both the Duke and Duchess were dismissed from all their posts, in 1711; and at last, in 1721, the disputes culminated in a lawsuit successfully brought against the Duke by the workmen for arrears of pay, the defendant’s contention being that the Treasury was liable for the whole expense.  The Duchess vented her displeasure on the unfortunate architect, whom she never credited with doing anything right.  She carefully kept his letters, and made spiteful endorsements on them for the benefit of her counsel at the trial.

While Sarah was perpetually involving herself in quarrels with her architect, the Duke was indirectly furthering the progress of the building by a succession of victories abroad.  Without taking an active part, he was yet much interested in the house, always looking forward to the time when he should live there in peace with his wife.  When on a campaign he wrote to her nearly every other day, and in almost every letter there is a personal touch, showing his ever-present love for her, his keen anxiety to keep her love, and to win her approval of everything he did.

The main interest of Marlborough’s later life centered in Blenheim.  The Duchess had done the lion’s share of the work of superintendence; it remained for him to arrange the many works of art he had bought and had been given during the war.  There still exists an account of the prices he paid for tapestries made in Brussels, most of which are now on the walls of the house.  Over the south front was placed a bust of Louis XIV., a trophy taken from the gates of Tournay....

Changes of fashion and of taste have left their mark on Blenheim; and, as the old oaks recall the joyousness of the Middle Ages, and the elms and cedars have a certain air of eighteenth-century stateliness, so perhaps the orchids, with their exotic delicacy, may be held typical of the decadent present.  From the house many treasures, once part of its adornment, are now missed; and while books, pictures, and gems have disappeared, modern ideas of comfort have suggested the insertion of electric lights and telephones.  To regret the treasures of the past is a commonplace; it would seem fitter to make the best of the advantages of the present.