Royal Sisters: The Story of the Daughters of James II

On the following day a tall man was seen pacing up and down in Hyde Park at a well known dueling spot. Many people saw him, but Sir Charles Dymoke did not go out to meet him.

There were no cries of “No popery” in the streets now, but were the people satisfied? If Mary had seemed a little contrite, if William had not been so dour, they would have been more ready to accept them.

What had they done? they asked themselves. It was true they wanted no popery; but was it going to be the days of Oliver Cromwell all over again? They did not like sour Dutchmen; they did not like ungrateful daughters. Someone produced a verse which appealed to many, and all over the city it was being quoted. It was written after the Coronation and ran:

There through the dusk-red towers—amidst his ring

Of Vans and Mynheers rode the Dutchman King;

And there did England’s Goneril thrill to hear,

The shouts that triumphed o’er her crownless Lear.

A DISH OF GREEN PEAS

here was little time now for dallying at Hampton Court and making exciting plans for its reconstruction. Ireland was almost entirely in the hands of James; and certain areas of Scotland had declared for him. There was discord in Parliament between Whigs and Tories; William was unpopular with the English who admired a colorful King like Charles II; France had taken the opportunity to increase activity against Holland.

“I wish,” said William to his dear friend Bentinck, “that I were a thousand miles away. I am not wanted here. The Queen is regarded as the ruler so I am of a mind to return to Holland and leave her here to govern.”

Bentinck regarded him sadly. William had greatly desired this crown and having married Mary for it, it seemed impossible that, now that he had attained it, he should return to Holland.

Bentinck himself would have been delighted to go home; but he did not believe that William would so lightly abandon a lifetime’s ambition.

Yet William summoned a Council of Ministers.

“I have made a mistake in accepting this crown,” he said. “I can do nothing more for you when you are warring with each other and resent me. The Queen pleases you, so I will leave the government in her hands and go to Holland.”

There was an immediate protest from the Council.

“I have been ill-used,” William reminded them, “and in such circumstances have no wish to remain. I told you when I took the crown that I did not attach such importance to it as some men did.”

So vehement were the protests that William saw how strong his position was.

“If I remained in control of this realm, I should depart at once for Ireland,” he said; but there was further protest at his suggestion, for they said they needed his services in England and begged him to remain.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I am a Protestant,” he said, “So I must do my duty, for this country could so easily be lost to the papists.”

When Mary heard that William had threatened to leave for Holland she was distraught, and went to William with tears in her eyes and begged him not to leave her.

“You have succeeded in making yourself popular with the people,” he told her. “They want you, but they are not inclined to accept me.”

“They are so foolish, William.”

“The Council of Ministers have begged me to stay. So they appear to think I may be of use to them.”

“Then I join my pleas with theirs, William.”

He looked at her coldly, remembering her outburst on the morning of the Coronation. Deep within her there was great pride, and occasionally it asserted itself. He could not forget the manner in which she had upbraided him for letting James go. What had she wanted? Him to murder her father? Hold him a prisoner? Have him brought to trial?

She had dared to criticize him! It was for this reason that he had threatened to return to Holland, although in his heart he had no intention of going. Marlborough had been sent to Flanders, and Marlborough was one of the most brilliant of his soldiers, although he was a man completely dominated by self-interest and one must, while making use of his services, never forget that fact and be wary of him.

There was no need for William to go to Holland therefore; and he had no intention of going. He wanted his wife to grovel in her desire to keep him at her side, to pay for her insolence on the Coronation morning; he wanted the ministers to acknowledge that he and he alone was the man to deliver their country from the threat of papistry. Once they admitted this he would give his untiring devotion to their Cause—which was his own. But there must be continual appreciation, because there were times when his physical disabilities were almost unbearable. It was bad enough to be smaller than most men, slightly hunchbacked, far from prepossessing, but when in addition he was cursed with asthma, which was improved by riding in the open air, and by hemorrhoids which made riding often an agony, he must remind those about him constantly that in matters of the mind he towered farther above them, in spite of their physical advantages.

He released himself from the Queen’s embraces. “Very well,” he said. “But I had thought that since you expressed your disapproval of the manner in which I was conducting affairs, you might wish to govern alone.”

“Oh, William, you are thinking of that stupid stupid remark of mine. I was so distressed. It was the letter from my father coming at such a time. I must implore you to forgive me. I must assure you that I could not endure to live here while you were in Holland. You know that I only live for you.”

It was enough.

He said coolly: “Very well, I shall remain. But pray remember in future that I do not care to be treated with