Memoirs of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, and of the Court of Queen Anne Vol. 1 (of 2)Thomson, A. T., Mrs.
History
Memoirs of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, and of the Court of Queen Anne Vol. 1 (of 2)
Thomson, A. T., Mrs.
Great Britain -- Court and courtiers -- Biography; Marlborough, Sarah Jennings Churchill, Duchess of, 1660-1744
Whilst the Duchess of Marlborough, by the workings of her powerful mind,
swayed the destinies of party, and governed her sovereign, it was
decreed that a chastising hand should humble and restrain her; that the
blow should be aimed in the tenderest part, calculated, to lower her
proudest aspirations, and to touch with poignancy those maternal
affections of which even the most worldly are never destitute, but which
the worldly taste only in bitterness; for interest and pleasure deaden
the daily emotions and gentle pleasures of domestic life, whilst they
cannot wholly avert the sting which the dormant affections receive.
The Duchess had borne her husband two sons. Of these, Charles, the
younger, died at an early age. John, the elder, survived until the age
of seventeen, when, in all the promise of future celebrity and
excellence, he was taken from his parents, just as their hopes of him,
their pride of him, and their love of him, had raised their expectations
to the utmost height.
Commanding in person, and strong in intellect,[475] this noble youth
united with the high spirit of his mother, the gentleness, and
graciousness, and strong principles of his father. His religious habits,
his frequent attendance on the holy sacrament, his assiduity in his
studies, and the regularity of his conduct, proved that, how much soever
his parents had been absorbed in the concerns of the world, and in the
pursuit of greatness, they had neither neglected the formation of his
intellect, nor the far more important yet corresponding culture of his
sense of duty, and his best affections.
Well might the bereaved parents afterwards exclaim with Congreve, when
death had robbed them of this star which shed a ray of brightness on
their path of life,
To mourn thy fall, I’ll fly the hated light,
And hide my head in shades of endless night;
For thou were light, and life, and wealth to me;
The sun but thankless shines that shows not thee;
Wert thou not lovely, graceful, good, and young,
The joy of sight, the talk of every tongue?
Did ever branch so sweet a blossom bear,
Or ever early fruit appear so fair?[476]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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