THE LETTERS OF MR. HERBERT
When Admiral Herbert found himself closeted with William of Orange, he
had some eagerness in observing that Prince whose name was so much in
the mouths of men, and who had grown to be a kind of lodestar to
Protestant England.
The first thing that impressed a courtier of the Stewarts, used to a
lavish and extravagant habit of living, was that there was no splendour
in the plain dark room, the stern furnishing of which seemed almost
parsimony in a royal Prince, nor any manner of display about the
Stadtholder himself, who, with his own hands, shifted the candles in the
brass sticks from the mantelshelf to the table, and set open the window
on the summer woods.
Arthur Herbert looked keenly at him; he had dropped his hat and mantle
on to a chair, and his person was fully revealed in the steady red
candle glow.
He was at this time in his thirty-seventh year, at the height of his
reputation: the most respected statesman, one of the most feared
generals and powerful rulers in Europe, the head of the nation which was
supreme in trade and maritime dominion, the foremost champion of the
reformed religion, first Prince of the blood in England, the close ally
and councillor of the Empire, of Spain, the Northern States, Germany,
and, as it was whispered, of the Pope, the leader of the English
opposition, and husband to the heiress of that country, the rallying
point for the discontents and indignations of all those whom the King of
France had injured or the King of England put out of humour.
This combination of circumstance and quality that had given him the
unique position he held, made him the most discussed and famous figure
at present before the eyes of men. Even where he was abused and decried
he was never forgotten, and shared in the minds of the French almost as
much attention as their own exalted King.
Added to his present fame was the glamour of past heroism, the history
of his splendid house, the great deeds of his ancestors, his own
breaking from unhappy childhood and desolate youth to power in one day
of chaos and ruin, blood and despair, his almost miraculous deliverance
of his country, constant devotion to it, and his firm adherence to the
persecuted religion were unique in the history of princes, and lived in
the minds of men.
The man who was of this estimation in Europe, who possessed so many
extraordinary qualities, and had had so strange a history, appeared to
the Englishman as a gentleman of no particular appearance of energy,
rather below than above the middle height, and of a frail physique and
slenderness of proportion rare in a man of action, and which reminded
Herbert of my Lord Shaftesbury, whose impetuous and fiery manners had
counteracted the effect of his feeble person.
The Stadtholder differed there, being entirely composed and stately, and
holding himself with a certain stiff control, as one trained to maintain
dignity and the foremost place in the sight of men.
His countenance was manly, grave, and remarkable, chiefly by reason of
his large brilliant eyes of a lively hazel, sparkling and expressive,
and his thick dark brown hair, which he wore falling on to his collar
like an old-fashioned cavalier; his high aquiline nose, full mouth very
firmly set, slightly cleft chin and hollowed cheeks, clear and tanned
complexion, conveyed a subtle sense of youth and simplicity, despite his
rather severe and austere expression, as if at heart he was still as
ardent as when he wrested the three conquered provinces from the French;
his face, though thin and worn, was unlined.
He wore a violet riding coat of a heavy fashion, and a cravat of thick
Bruges lace and a plain sword. Herbert would never have taken him for a
soldier. He wondered if he would ever please the English as he had done
the Dutch, or courts as he did people, and was conscious of an
unreasonable feeling of incongruity in this being the man looked to as
the saviour of England, indeed of half Europe.
The Prince pulled off his gloves slowly, the while looking on the floor.
He was seated the other side of the table to Herbert, who thought he had
found some reluctance or difficulty in speaking, perhaps because he was
using English, with which language he was tolerably familiar, but spoke
with no kind of grace, but rather a distaste.
"You are sent by Mr. Sidney?" he asked at last.
He had a short, strong way of speaking; his manner was stately to
coldness. Arthur Herbert looked in vain for any trace of emotion or
curiosity as to the momentous errand he must know that he, Herbert, had
come upon, or even, as he reflected rather vexedly, any welcome for
himself.
"By Mr. Sidney and some others, sir," he answered.
The Prince put his gloves on the table, and raised his eyes.
"You have, Mr. Herbert, brought some answer to my late request that some
powerful English families should give me a written invitation to this
expedition to which the Protestant lords have so constantly, and, of
late, so insistently urged me."
Admiral Herbert put his hand into the breast of his common coat, and
pulled out a sealed packet, which he handed to the Prince.
"This association, Your Highness, of which you have had advices from my
Lord Shrewsbury and Mr. Sydney, is at length signed by seven of our
great men, and I pray Your Highness to take it as full warrant for
interfering in the present miserable estate of England."
After having delivered this speech, Admiral Herbert looked straightly at
the Prince, who was slowly breaking the seals. He felt more enthusiasm
for the cause than for His Highness, and more warmly for both when he
was not in the actual presence of the Prince, whose personal coldness
had an ill effect on the Englishman's impatient nature.
"This is Mr. Sidney his hand," remarked the Prince.
Arthur Herbert laid another letter on the dark, shining table.
"There is also a personal letter from that gentleman."
William looked rapidly over the contents of the packet, and his thin
cheek flushed.
"This is definite," he said.
"Your Highness asked that it might be."
The Prince took up the other letter, and read it over with great
quickness.
"Mr. Sidney saith my Lord Nottingham would not sign," he remarked; "is
that timidity?"
"Some manner of prudence, I suppose, sir; but he will not betray our
design. He gave us leave to take his life if we thought him capable of
it; but I believe he can go to Court and not discover any sign of the
concern he is under, so close a man he is."
"Oh, he is honest," said William dryly. He took up the first letter
again; it was signed at the bottom by seven numbers, thus: 25, 24, 27,
29, 31, 35, 33; the Prince did not require the code sent him by Henry
Sidney to discover the names these numbers stood for; he had the cipher
by heart, and knew that the seven who had signed were Lord Shrewsbury,
Lord Devonshire, Lord Danby, Lord Lumley, the suspended Compton, Bishop
of London, Admiral Russell, and Mr. Sydney himself. They represented a
body of opinion that was weighty; if they were not many, they were
powerful, and the Prince himself had said that he did not need many
names if they were those of great families. Lord Halifax, who had been
one of his warmest supporters, had shrunk from the first hint of
anything so violent as a revolution, and the Prince had forbidden the
design to be opened to him; for the scruples of Lord Nottingham he had
also been prepared; therefore the signatures were the utmost that he
could have hoped for; but he gave no sign of excitement or satisfaction,
but sat thoughtfully looking at the two papers in his hand.
"Mr. Sidney saith that you are well instructed in these affairs, Mr.
Herbert," he said at last, raising his great eyes. "This paper is well
composed and comprehensive, but it saith nothing of how far the King is
suspicious of these gentlemen and their correspondence with me. And
that is an important matter."
Admiral Herbert answered instantly.
"The King is kept amused by my Lord Sunderland, sir, who hath his entire
confidence."
"My Lord Sunderland hath not openly joined you?"
"No, sir; and in truth his conduct is a mystery, but Mr. Sidney hath a
pledge from the Countess that he will not betray us."
"I am tolerably sure of my lord," answered the Prince. "He hath control
of the foreign correspondence, hath he not?"
"Yes, Your Highness. We have felt some fears for M. D'Albeville, the
King his envoy here, it being generally believed that he is in the pay
of M. Barillon."
"He receiveth some kind of pension from him," said the Prince calmly,
"and maketh him all manner of promises. But he is better fee'd by me,
and I do know that he sendeth beguiling letters home."
"Then I think there is no one likely to open the King his eyes. It all
resteth now on the resolution of Your Highness."
The Prince very faintly smiled.
"They suggest any attempt, if any be made, this year, do they not?" he
said, instantly grave again.
"At once, sir, is what we should wish."
The Prince rose and crossed to the hearth.
"This winter would be the soonest," he answered quietly. "Tell me more
of England--it is the King his purpose to call a packed parliament in
the autumn?"
Arthur Herbert replied with a kind of angry energy that betrayed the
force that had involved him in these intrigues.
"The charters being taken from the towns, the franchise is in the King
his hands, and is only to be granted to those who will swear to return
His Majesty his candidate, the Protestant Lord-Lieutenants have been
displaced by Catholic, and they have orders to let no one into office
who will not consent to the repeal of the Test Act--so we are all
officered by Papists, and to be a Protestant is to starve."
"My uncle," said the Prince, with an accent of cold contempt, "would
never make a good tyrant; when liberty is conquered 'tis by more subtle
ways than this."
Arthur Herbert's eyes sparkled.
"I tell you, sir, that in one place where the electorate hath been
reduced to fifteen, even these are so little to be relied upon, the King
was told his man had no chance."
"Why, surely," answered William, "the English are not of a spirit to
endure this monstrous breakage of the laws."
Arthur Herbert looked at him again with that half admiration, half
dislike; in truth there was nothing in common between the two men but
enthusiasm for the same cause--in the one transient, impulsive, based on
personal interest; in the other strong, unchanging, deep as life itself.
Some weeks ago the Englishman had received a letter from the Prince
offering him his protection, and Arthur Herbert could not recognise in
the quiet Stadtholder the writer of that warm, firm, courteous, well
turned letter, but none too quick as his perceptions were, they
perceived that there must be something in this man that he had missed;
the fire and ardour might escape him, but it must be there. Meanwhile,
gratitude was still his cue; warming with a real sense of the grievous
hurts done to the liberties of England, he proceeded to enlarge on the
text of the letter, to paint the distracted, exasperated condition of
the public mind in England, the common hopes of the Prince, the ardent
desire among the most prudent and knowing men of affairs for his active
interference before the packed parliament was called to force the repeal
of the Test Act, the disbelief in the young heir being a child of the
Queen's, and the small chance that either the army or the navy would be
loyal to James.
The Prince listened with attention but no sign of feeling; when Mr.
Herbert finished William crossed to the window and closed it, the
draught was setting the candles guttering.
"M. Zuylestein hath been successful?" he asked, and coughed a little.
"He seemeth a most able man, sir; at his secret house in Greg Street all
this hath been considered and performed. We did desire him to remain in
England until we had an answer from Your Highness, and, to give a
careless air to his staying, he hath gone into the country."
"It is well," answered the Prince, approaching the table. "Mr. Herbert,
you shall have your answer very soon. I shall to-night consult with M.
Fagel and M. Dyckfelt, who, as you know, were aware of these affairs
from the first inception of them; to-morrow I will advise with you
again. Meanwhile I will ask you to take your entertainment at my
house."
He paused to draw breath, as he always did after any save those very
brief sentences he usually employed. The asthma he had had for years
was obvious in these painful gasping breaths and constant coughs.
"You have done me a great service," he continued. "I am very much
obliged to you; you are a man of spirit."
Admiral Herbert rose.
"I am greatly indebted to the generosity of Your Highness; but there are
spies at The Hague, and it might give a colour to reports already too
persistent were I discovered to be lodging with Your Highness. Among
the fugitives from England in the town I am easily hid."
Again William gave his faint, instantly checked smile.
"I am glad that you are not forgetful of prudence, Mr. Herbert. We
cannot be too careful."
Mr. Herbert hesitated, eyed the Prince, then said, with more boldness
than he felt--
"I must tell Your Highness that there is one matter, too delicate to
commit to writing, that hath been in debate among your friends in
London----"
"Ah?" questioned the Prince.
"--'tis the attitude of the Princess, sir."
William seemed to slightly stiffen and straighten.
"What should her attitude be but the same as mine?" he asked.
Mr. Herbert coloured.
"Forgive me, sir, she is King James his daughter----"
The Prince interrupted--
"Also my wife," he said quietly, but with extraordinary force and, it
seemed, pride. "You shall hear the lady for yourself, sir."
He touched a heavy bell on the table and a servant instantly appeared.
"Request the presence of Her Highness," he said, then spoke again to
Herbert when the man had gone.
"It is only just that in this great issue in which she is so intimately
concerned that you should hear her mind from her own lips."
"No one doubteth the loyalty of the Lady Mary to yourself, sir,"
answered Mr. Herbert, lying cheerfully, for he had been one of the most
cynical in discussing this same loyalty in London.
William coughed again, and seated himself by the table with his Frisian
lace handkerchief pressed to his lips. Mr. Herbert was suddenly
impressed by the fact that he looked not only ill but in pain.
A little pause of silence, and the Princess entered. She had changed
her gown, and wore a dress of the same stiff pattern in white brocade,
with tinsel and a ribbon of pearls in her hair.
William rose and gave her one look as she closed the door, then lowered
his eyes as he spoke.
"Madame, Mr. Herbert cometh from England with an invitation to me from
my friends there to go there with a force to protect the laws and the
religion----"
"Ah!" exclaimed Mary; she came straight to the table and dazzled in the
candlelight. Mr. Herbert looked at her, and noticed only her
comeliness; he was not a man to distinguish types or degrees in beauty.
If a woman were pretty, to him she was nothing more, and the prettier
she was the less he credited her with sense or strength. The Princess's
air of dignity and spiritual look did not save her from this judgment;
he dismissed her as a pleasing young creature, useful for nothing save
to smile and work fantastic finery when she was not saying her prayers.
He smiled, therefore, at the Prince's grave way of speaking to her; she
seemed, he noticed, much moved, her body quivered, and she fixed her
eyes on her husband with a painful intensity.
"You know," he continued, with a certain simplicity that had a curious
effect, taken with his great seriousness, "the project that was first
suggested to me by Lord Mordaunt a year gone; this hath been repeated by
weightier men, and the times are riper----"
He paused rather abruptly.
"Will you tell Mr. Herbert that you would approve of this undertaking?"
he finished, and with a palpable effort.
Mary withdrew her eyes to fix them on Mr. Herbert.
"Surely," she said, "you do not require that assurance from me?"
She gave a little weak laugh, and clasped her hands tightly and
unclasped them.
"I do not know what words to choose to convince you how utterly I am in
the hands of my husband, nor how foolish I am in matters of business."
She drew a deep breath, and added, with a blushing earnestness, "If
circumstances permit my husband to make this attempt, my will is one
with his in the design, which I consider holy as well as just----"
Mr. Herbert bowed, and the bright young beauty added with the gravity
that was her manner--
"--but if my husband his design was not just, I fear I should still
support him in it!"
Mr. Herbert could do nothing but bow to this outspoken statement; if the
words were spontaneous or learnt, lesson fashion, from the Prince, was
no matter to him. They set at rest the doubts some of the seven,
particularly Lord Danby, had raised concerning her attitude.
He took his leave of the Princess, and she seemed like one amazed, as if
she neither saw nor heard him. The Prince went with him into the
antechamber, and the last look Herbert had of Mary was the sight of her
standing quite still, with her face as pale as the little braid of
pearls in her dark hair, and the fingers of her right hand pressed to
the tinsel bows on her stiff bodice.
In a few moments the Prince returned, and then she moved abruptly and
took the tall-backed walnut chair Mr. Herbert had occupied, pushed it
from the table, and gazed up at her husband.
He had still the two letters in his hand. He looked at Mary. With the
departure of the Englishman his manner had entirely changed; this was
very noticeable, though he said nothing.
"You are fatigued," said Mary in a shaking voice, "so fatigued--I
know----"
He cast the letters down between them.
"Oh, silly!" he answered, "that must be always thinking of my fatigues!"
He put his thin hand over hers, that rested on the edge of the table,
and gave an excited little laugh.
"Thou hast heard this man, Mary.... I think I am pledged to an
extraordinary task."