The Duchess of Buckingham was as much elated by owing her birth to James ii.(125) as the Marlborough was by the favour of his daughter.  Lady Dorchester,(126) the mother of the former, endeavoured to curb that pride, and, one should have thought, took an effectual method, though one few mothers would have practised.  “You need not be so vain,” said the old profligate, “for you are not the King’s daughter, but Colonel Graham’s.”  Graham was a fashionable man of those days and noted for dry humour.  His legitimate daughter, the Countess of Berkshire, was extremely like to the Duchess of Buckingham:  “Well! well!” said Graham, “Kings are all powerful, and one must not complain; but certainly the same man begot those two women.”  To discredit the wit of both parents, the Duchess never ceased labouring to restore the House of Stuart, and to mark her filial devotion to it.  Frequent were her journeys to the Continent for that purpose.  She always stopped at Paris, visited the church where lay the unburied body of James, and wept over it.  A poor Benedictine of the convent, observing her filial piety, took notice to her grace that the velvet pall that covered the coffin was become threadbare-and so it remained.

Finding all her efforts fruitless, and perhaps aware that her plots were not undiscovered by Sir Robert Walpole, who was remarkable for his intelligence, she made an artful double, and resolved to try what might be done through him himself.  I forget how she contracted an acquaintance with him:  I do remember that more than once he received letters from the Pretender himself, which probably were transmitted through her.  Sir Robert always carried them to George ii. who endorsed and returned them.  That negotiation not succeeding. the Duchess made a more home push.  Learning his extreme fondness for his daughter, (afterwards Lady Mary Churchill,) she sent for Sir Robert, and asked him if he recollected what had not been thought too great a reward to Lord Clarendon for restoring the royal family?  He affected not to understand her.  “Was not he allowed,” urged the zealous Duchess, “to match his daughter to the Duke of York?” Sir Robert smiled, and left her.

Sir Robert being forced from court, the Duchess thought the moment (127) favourable, and took a new journey to Rome; but conscious of the danger she might run of discovery, she made over her estate to the famous Mr. Pulteney (afterwards Earl of Bath), and left the deed in his custody.  What was her astonishment, when on her return she redemanded the instrument!-It was mislaid-he could not find it-he never could find it!  The Duchess grew clamorous.  At last his friend Lord Mansfield told him plainly,- he could never show his face unless he satisfied the Duchess.  Lord Bath did then sign a release to her of her estate.  The transaction was recorded in print by Sir Charles Hanbury Williams, in a pamphlet that had great vogue, called a Congratulatory Letter, with many other anecdotes