The Three Crowns epub (33 page)

“I am glad to hear it, Your Highness.”

“Oh, I have not brought you here as a diplomat. I wish to speak to you of this matter as one friend to another.”

Sir William intimated that he was very willing to be a friend to the Prince of Orange.

“I should want a wife who did not give me trouble at home, for I shall be much engaged abroad. Before I married there are certain facts I should want to know about my wife’s character and education. My wife must be a woman who would live well with me and I might not be easy to live with. In fact, certainly those women who live at the various courts today might find it difficult to live with me; the tendencies which displease me are prevalent in the Court of the King of England and that gives me pause for thought.”

“I believe, Your Highness, that the best marriage you could make would be with England.”

“Such a union would please me, but I should need to know those facts I mentioned about my wife.”

“My own wife is a great friend of Lady Frances Villiers who is in charge of the Princess’s household.”

“Then I would ask you as a friend to command her to give me an account of the Princess Mary. If it pleases me well then I should not be averse to this match.”

Sir William said he would dispatch a message to his wife without delay; and he doubted not that she would do her utmost to give the Prince of Orange a true picture of the Princess Mary.

Lady Temple sent
glowing accounts of the Princess Mary. She was a charming girl, more beautiful than her sister, skilled in dancing, of good temper, and would almost certainly prove a docile wife; moreover she was young for her fifteen years and could doubtless be molded.

William liked that description. He sent for his good friend Bentinck.

“There is no one else whom I would trust with this mission,” he told him. “I wish you to set out with all speed to London. There it will be necessary to negotiate with the Lord Treasurer, Lord Danby. He is the man. I doubt not that your mission will be successful for I know that you always work tirelessly for my good. I want this marriage with England.”

They discussed each point in favor of such a marriage while they considered the disadvantages.

“Providing the Duke and Duchess of York do not have a son, this could be a most brilliant marriage for Your Highness,” said Bentinck.

“It is a chance we have to take,” was William’s answer. “They have tried and failed before.”

Bentinck agreed that apart from the brilliant prospects of William’s ascending the English throne through his wife, the marriage would still be a good one.

“Holland is fighting a desperate battle for survival,” said William. “The bravery of the Dutch cannot stand out against the power of Louis. Our Spanish allies are unreliable. Bentinck, we need England. The crown … that is a matter for later.” His eyes glowed. “It will come. In the meantime England, standing with us—as the King will do if his niece is Princess of Orange—can save us.”

Bentinck, who knew his friend very well, understood that William had no doubt that one day the English crown would be his. He was a man who believed in predestination and he was certain that he was born to rule not only Holland but England, Scotland, and Ireland.

To be with him was to feel that certainty. Bentinck set off for England with high hopes of success.

Shortly afterward William of Orange received an invitation from Charles to visit England.

T
he King was smiling across the table at Lord
Danby. Poor Danby! he thought lightly. His position is not a happy one.

“In the circumstances, Your Majesty,” Danby was saying, “the Dutch marriage is greatly desirable.”

Charles agreed. “The people hate the war with Holland and marriages are the best guarantees of peace.”

The eyes of the King and his Lord Treasurer met. There were so many secrets which they shared and which it would be advisable, both knew, should never leak out. Danby had helped in those transactions with France which some might consider shameful and which would certainly shock the King’s subjects if they were aware of them; Charles’s secret leanings toward Catholicism, his monstrous promise to Louis, could lose him his throne if they were known. They had much to hide, these two. But the King was nonchalant; he had an infinite belief in his ability to extricate himself from the difficult situations into which he could not resist falling in his continual attempts to provide himself with money which his Parliament would not—and indeed could not—grant him.

Danby, on the other hand, trying hard to appear calm, could not hide his disquiet. His fall could be imminent. In the streets they were singing lampoons about him. He was the most hated man in England. He had not sinned so deeply as his master; but he would be blamed. Charles had only to flash his famous smile—which was merry and sardonic at the same time—on his subjects and they would forgive him his lechery, and his treachery. Such was not the case with Danby. He could not charm them with his unromantic appearance—his lean figure, his pale face, and his obvious ill health. Moreover, he knew that if Charles’s secret dealings with the King of France ever came to light, it would be Danby who would be blamed for them, not Charles.

And now the people were restive largely because they hated war. Charles would show them that he was prepared to put an end to the war and that he was no friend of the King of France because Louis would be furious at a match between Holland and England. Perhaps of late his subjects had begun to suspect Charles favored Catholicism.

“Very well,” said the King. “We will send for Orange. We will show the people that we are anxious for peace with Holland, for can we want to be at war with the husband of our own Princess Mary?”

“Your Majesty,” said Danby, “the Duke of York will not consent to this marriage.”

“You must make him understand the importance of it, Danby.”

“Your Majesty, the Duke of York has not your understanding of affairs. I feel sure he will remind us that you once promised not to dispose of his daughters without his consent.”

Charles was thoughtful. “It is true I made such a promise. But God’s fish, he must consent.”

Danby bowed his head. Consent or not, he thought, the marriage should take place. He, Danby, was rushing headlong to his ruin, as Clarendon had some years before. It was not easy to serve a King such as Charles II, a clever man who was in constant need of money and not too scrupulous as to how he acquired it, a man who was ready to conduct his own foreign policy in such a manner that his Parliament knew nothing about it.

For them both the marriage was a necessity.

Charles’s shrewd eyes met those of his statesman. He knew what Danby was thinking.

“You see the need as I do, Danby,” he said. “So, it shall be done. Tomorrow I leave for Newmarket.…”

James, furious, stormed
into his brother’s apartments.

“I see you are speechless,” said Charles, “so I must help you out of your difficulty as I have so many times before by speaking for you. You have doubtless seen Danby.”

“This marriage …”

“Is most desirable.”

“With that Dutchman!”

“A dour young lover I will admit, but our nephew, brother. Forget not that.”

“I will never give my consent to this marriage, and I am her father.”

Charles raised his eyebrows and gazed sadly at his brother.

“Without my knowledge Danby has dared …”

“Poor Danby. He has his faults, I doubt it not … and many of them. All the more sad that he should be expected to carry those of others.”

“You promised that my daughters should never be given in marriage without my consent.”

“And, as ever, it grieves me to break a promise.”

“Then Your Majesty must be constantly grieved.”

“I fear so, James. I fear so. My dear brother, do try to be reasonable. This marriage must take place. It is more necessary to you than to any of us.”

“To me! You know I dislike that Dutchman.”

“He is of our flesh and blood, James, and we loved his mother. Families should live in amity together. He is a dull fellow, I’ll be ready to swear, but he did once try to get at the maids of honor.”

James shrugged impatiently.

“And you, James,” went on Charles, “are far from popular. This ostentatious popery of yours is a constant irritant.”

“And what of yourself?”

“I said ostentatious popery. You should learn to show proper respect to words, James, if not to your King. Now listen to me. If Mary marries our Calvinist the people will say: How can the Duke of York be such a papist if he allows this Protestant marriage!
You
need this Protestant marriage more than any of us.”

“Your Majesty has always been for tolerance.”

“I am more tolerant than my subjects are prepared to be. You have always known that.”

“And Charles, is it not your dealings with the French which make you so eager for this marriage?”

Charles smiled wryly. “As I have said before, I have no wish to be like a grand signor with mutes about him and a bag of bowstrings to strangle men if I have a mind to it. At the same time I could not feel myself to be a King while a company of fellows are looking into all I do and examining my accounts. There, James. That is your brother and King. Tolerance, yes. Let every man worship as he pleases and let the next fellow do likewise. Thus if I wish to be a papist I’d say I’ll be one and that is my affair. And if I make agreements with foreign kings because by so doing I can get what my Parliament denies me—well then, that is my affair too.”

“And because of this my daughter must marry the Dutchman?”

“Because of this, James—my follies, your follies, and the follies of those who want to go to war when they could live so much happier in peace. You’ll give your consent, James. Then … we must see that we get the better of our little Dutchman.”

When William arrived
at Newmarket the King greeted him cordially.

“It is long since we met, nephew, too long. And now you come as a hasty lover.”

“I would wish first to have a sight of the Princess Mary,” replied William cautiously.

Charles laughed. “Do you think that we would ask you to make an offer for what you have not seen? Not a bit of it. You shall see her and I will tell you this: there is not a more charming young girl at this Court, nor in the length and breadth of England I’ll dare swear—perhaps not in Holland!”