They had all been whispering together and when I asked what had excited them, the Countess was loath to tell me.

At length I insisted, and she said: “It is nothing but tattle, Your Majesty. These things will be.”

Still she was reluctant, but finally I prevailed on her to tell me.

“Mrs. Wise says that King James will come back to England and that heads will fall.”

“I see,” I replied. “Do people believe her?”

“There is always talk when such things are said, Your Majesty.”

“And this Mrs. Wise, has she a good reputation for foreseeing the future accurately?”

“Like most of these people, she has had her successes,” said the Countess. “They say something, which by good luck comes true. But they are often wrong.”

“I should like to see this Mrs. Wise,” I said.

“Oh, madam,” gasped the Countess. “Do you think ... ?”

“I should like to see her for myself,” I said firmly.

“If people knew ... they would speak of it. They would feel you must think highly of her to visit her.”

“I want to see her. I want to ask her questions.”

“Your Majesty ... should you go ... openly ... as you did to the Indian Houses?”

I could see William’s cold eyes reprimanding me, and the wondering looks from those about me. Why does the Queen allow this man to talk to her so? they were asking themselves. He is the King by her courtesy. But she is his wife, I thought, and to him she owed obedience. I had learned this from Gilbert Burnet.

William would not, of course, approve of my visiting Mrs. Wise, but I was going to do it all the same.

My women enjoyed the secrecy we must employ. It gave a spice to the adventure, and I went to Mrs. Wise.

She was a woman who did not win my confidence from the first. I could see she was a little shaken by my visit. She had made a pronouncement which she knew would not have pleased me and she was a little uneasy about my visit. I soon discovered that she was an ardent Catholic and I guessed that was why she had made the prophecy.

She was sycophantic, overwhelmed by the honor, she said, and she feared her humble talents were not worthy to serve me.

This, she insisted, prevented her from looking into my future, and she had nothing to tell me. All she could see was that I had been in Holland and had gone there at an early age. She could see nothing beyond that.

She tried to give the impression that the powers were so overwhelmed by my majesty that they felt it would be improper to prophesy my future.

I could not help laughing to myself at this foolish woman, and I came away with the certainty that she made her prophecies to fit the occasion.

I was relieved that William did not discover that I had visited Mrs. Wise.


* * *

THAT YEAR WAS COMING TO AN END. It had begun in triumph and was ending in melancholy. I was glad when it was over. But the new year seemed almost more alarming, for it was becoming clear that the situation in Ireland could not be allowed to continue as it was.

William must send an army to face that which was gathering about my father. This would be a battle between Catholics and Protestants. Ever since the conflict had started, I had dreaded the thought of my husband and father coming face to face in battle.

It seemed now that it was inevitable, and during the first month of that new year of 1690 I began to wish that I was no longer on earth, so that I need not know the outcome.

It was no use trying to tell myself that my father was in the wrong. He was — but he was my father and I could not forget my happy childhood and the love there had been between us. How cruel life had been to give me William as a husband, the one man who must be my father’s enemy. And here was I ... caught between them.

Yes, it was true, at times I did wish that I could die before that battle took place. I was so torn between them. My duty was to both of them, but what could I do? I was married to William and the scriptures say that a woman must cleave to her husband, forsaking all others.

Dr. Burnet had assured me my duty was to my husband. I must remember that. But I was dreading that confrontation, with such intensity that I would rather die than face the result.

And through those unhappy months preparations for war continued.


* * *

I REALLY BELIEVED THAT William sometimes wished he had never come to England. The people continued to show their dislike of him. It had been different in Holland. The Dutch did not expect the same of their rulers as the English did. Moreover, the glorious euphoria of the Restoration was close enough for people to remember. They wanted to laugh and be merry; they wanted excuses for celebrations; dancing in the streets, being delightedly shocked by the King’s amorous adventurings. And what had they in his place? War threatening and a monarch who never smiled and who hardly ever appeared in public.

But they did like me. William said: “I am beginning to think it would be better if I went back and you reigned in my place.” He gave one of his mirthless smiles. “They would not have that. They would rather have me than a woman ruling over them.”

One of those rare streaks of rebellion rose in me and I said: “One of the most successful monarchs this country has ever had was a woman. I refer to Queen Elizabeth.”

“Hm. She was surrounded by good ministers.”

“Whom she had chosen,” I reminded him.

He did not answer, but he gave me a strange look; and in that moment a determination was born to me. If I had to rule — which I might well do if he went to Ireland — I would do everything within my power to succeed.

The thought was gone almost as soon as it came. I dreaded the idea, not only because of his going into combat against my father but also because I should be alone.

Dr. Burnet came to see us one day. We were together when we received him. We looked upon him as one of our closest friends, for he had supported us from the beginning.

He had had a plan put to him and he thought we should consider it.

“I know Your Majesties’ feelings in this matter,” he said. “The Queen is uneasy to be in conflict with her father and it would seem Your Majesties might see a hope of avoiding confrontation.”

I was all eagerness to hear.

“The plan is that a ship manned by trusty men should call at Dublin, letting it be known that they had come with the intention of joining King James, who should be invited to come aboard. When he does so, the ship should immediately sail for some port — say in Italy or Spain. When the port is reached, the King should be given a sum of money and left there. Without the King, the forces in Ireland will soon be disbanded and conflict averted.”

William considered. I imagined it was something which might have appealed to him if it had been practical. But would my father be so careless as to go aboard? And alone? It did not seem likely. But recklessness had been the theme of his life. It had brought him to the position he was in at this moment.

There was another thought which occurred to me. Suppose they took him to Holland? How would the Dutch feel toward an admiral who had beaten them so often in battles?

“I will have no part of it,” I said, though I knew that the alternative was conflict with William and his army.

William, I was relieved to see, was in agreement with me. I liked to think that the same possibility had occurred to him, but I suspected he saw the scheme as impractical and, even if it succeeded, likely to prove only a postponement of the battle. My father would still be there to fight another day.

So we declined to consider it, though I fancy Gilbert Burnet was disappointed.


* * *

WE WERE NOW MOVING TOWARD the time for departure and William must very soon be on his way to Ireland, and I was to rule in his absence.

I felt a certain strength which I had not known I possessed, and the task did not seem so formidable as it had when William was there. It may be that, in order to turn my mind from fears for William’s safety and anxiety about my father, I endeavored to give my entire attention to the immense task before me.

I was surrounded by ministers to help me, the chief of which was Lord Caermarthen, who had been Lord Danby, Lord Devonshire, Lord Nottingham, Admiral Russell and Lord Monmouth. Lord Monmouth was not related to Jemmy. The title came through his mother, who was descended from the Earl of Monmouth, and William had given the title to him, in order to impress on Jemmy’s son that it should never be his.

I did not greatly care for any of these men. Most of them were ambitious, self-seeking; as for Lord Monmouth, I had always thought he was a trifle mad, though good-natured enough, and perhaps more honest than some, though not, alas, reliable.

I could see I should have a hard task before me, and yet I welcomed it.

I was discovering that I was not the feeble woman William seemed to think I was, and which he had made me feel was true. Neither my sister Anne nor I had been well educated, but whereas Anne had taken advantage of the lack of supervision and hardly ever exerted herself, I had always wanted to learn. I saw now how good for me that period of seclusion in Holland had been, for I had spent a great deal of time in reading, when I was not having discourse with people like Gilbert Burnet and Dr. Hooper; and, although our discussions had been mainly of theology, politics had often been one of our subjects. So it was with a thrill of excitement that I had discovered that I was not as ill-equipped for the task as I had feared I might be.

I went to the Palace of Whitehall when William left. George, Anne and little William came there, too. I think we might have forgotten our grievances and been as we used to be, but for Sarah Churchill.

Little William was a great joy to me. Mrs. Pack still dominated the nursery. She had installed herself as the boy’s chief nurse and he was devoted to her and would have no other. Sarah could not endure anyone to dominate a part of Anne’s household except herself and would have liked to be rid of Mrs. Pack; but Anne’s stubbornness came out when any matter concerning her son was in question; and clever Sarah decided that it would be unwise to attempt to change her mind on this.

I was amused to see Mrs. Pack and Sarah together, for Mrs. Pack could be as forceful in her way as Sarah was in hers.

The constant waiting for news was having its effect on me. My face became swollen. I wanted to shut myself away to hide it. I had to send for the doctors who applied leeches to my ears.

In the circumstances, of course, it was impossible for me to live in seclusion and often I had to receive people while I was in my bed.

Then came startling news.

The French fleet had appeared just off Plymouth.

This could only mean an attack was imminent. There were more than seventy French men-of-war coming to attack and rumor said that there were more on the way.

I rose from my bed, my swollen face forgotten. A number of our ships were still in Ireland, others were in the Mediterranean. There were Dutch squadrons in the Channel, but with them, and those of ours which were available, there would only amount to some fifty men-of-war.

The Earl of Torrington, as Admiral of the Fleet, had been a supporter of William and me from the beginning. That was why he held the post. He was an adequate sailor but not such a good one as my father had been, and he was at this time a little disgruntled because he had not been included among those selected for the governing body when William left for Ireland.

He had acquired the nickname of Tarry-in-Town which, although it was on account of his name, did suggest that he might not be the most energetic of men.

These were dreadful days. The French, of course, were seizing the advantage of our weak position. There was murmuring against William. Why should he be in Ireland when England was in need of protection? The French were and always had been our greatest enemy and we should always be on guard against them. I thought there might have been an insurrection. William should never have gone, I thought. This would not have happened if he had been here.

But the fact that the French were close to our shores had its effect on the nation. At such moments the English could be relied on to stand together.