out, discovered her secret.  On my mother’s death, who was of the Queen’s age, her Majesty asked Sir Robert many physical questions; but he remarked that she oftenest reverted to a rupture, which had not been the illness of his wife.  When he came home, he said to me, “Now, Horace, I know by possession of what secret Lady Sundon (115)has preserved such an ascendant over the Queen.”  He was in the right.  How Lady Sundon had wormed herself into that mystery was never known.  As Sir Robert maintained his influence over the clergy by Gibson, Bishop of London, he often met with troublesome obstructions from Lady Sundon, who espoused, as I have said, the heterodox clergy; and Sir Robert could never shake her credit.

Yet the Queen was constant in her protection of Sir Robert, and the day before she died gave a strong mark of her conviction that he was the firmest supporter the King had.  As they two alone were standing by the Queen’s bed, she pathetically recommended, not the minister to the sovereign, but the master to the servant.  Sir Robert was alarmed, and feared the recommendation would leave a fatal impression; but a short time after, the King reading with Sir Robert some intercepted letters from Germany, which said that now the Queen was ’gone, Sir Robert would have no protection:  “On the contrary,” said the King, “you know she recommended me to you.”  This marked the notice he had taken of the expression; and it was the only notice he ever took of it:  nay, his Majesty’s grief was so excessive and so sincere, that his kindness to his minister seemed to increase for the Queen’s sake.

The Queen’s dread of a rival was a feminine weakness; the behaviour of her elder son was a real thorn.  He early displayed his aversion to his mother, who perhaps assumed too much at first; yet it is certain that her good sense, and the interest of her family, would have prevented, if possible, the mutual dislike of the father and son, and their reciprocal contempt.  As the Opposition gave into all adulation towards the Prince, his ill-poised head and vanity swallowed all their incense.  He even early after his arrival had listened to a high act of disobedience.  Money he soon wanted:  old Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, (116) e ever proud and ever malignant, was persuaded to offer her favourite Granddaughter, Lady Diana Spencer, afterwards Duchess of Bedford, to the Prince of’ Wales, with a fortune of a hundred thousand pounds.  He accepted the proposal, and the day was fixed for their being secretly married at the Duchess’s lodge in the Great park at Windsor.  Sir Robert Walpole got intelligence of the project, prevented it, and the secret was buried in silence.