Great Britain -- History -- Revolution of 1688 -- Fiction; James II, King of England, 1633-1701 -- Fiction
If the certain news of his expedition reached James and that monarch
clapt up the Protestant lords and united with Louis in an attack on the
United Provinces, William would have to face another ’72 over again, and
with but little better chance of success than he had then; if Louis made
an attack on the frontiers of Brabant or the Spanish Lowlands before the
Prince sailed the States would refuse to allow his departure, and the
moment in England would be lost, perhaps for ever; if, most terrible
alternative of all, he took all the forces of his country, naval and
military, to England, and there met with opposition, delays, even
defeat—if James roused and the English bulk were faithful to him and
Louis seized the opportunity to pour his troops into defenceless Holland
while her ships and men were absent—then the Prince, who loved his
country with a deep and intense passion, would have to accuse himself as
the author of her ruin.
Certainly he was jeopardizing the utmost any man could—the dearest thing
in the world to him, beside which his own life was not even taken into
consideration—and yet the only other course was to risk this same
beloved liberty of his country, not by violent means, but by inaction
and gradual weakening before a stronger power, and this was against all
the teaching of his race, all the experience of his life, his own
imperious temper, and the settled conviction both of his soul and his
intelligence of what was the best, not alone for Holland but for Europe.
As he approached the ’huis ten bosch’ he brought his reluctant horse to
a slow walk. M. D’Avaux had done what the Prince had long expected,
requested a private, informal audience, and William had told him that he
should be walking in the garden at the back of his house that afternoon.
As the time for this interview approached the Prince felt a weariness
unutterable at the thought of meeting his enemy; he knew very well what
M. D’Avaux had to say and what his own answers would be, and a smooth
passage at arms with the French Ambassador was the last thing suited to
his present temper.
Day after day he had to listen to, arbitrate among, encourage, check,
guide, and advise the impetuous, arrogant English gathered at The Hague,
and lately joined by men of importance such as my Lord Shrewsbury and my
Lord Manchester, and this, to one of his reserve, was perhaps the most
distasteful side of his task; it left him no leisure even for his one
diversion of hunting, since it filled all the little time left from
business, and begat in him a fatigue that longed for the relaxation of
the unending strain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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