‘Very well, thank you, Stadhouder. I trust that you are too.’
‘Apart from occasionally not being able to breathe, I am, thank you. I’m grateful to you for coming so promptly to The Hague. I shan’t beat about the bush, Mercurius. I’ve got a little job for you.’
Since the last “little job” the Stadhouder gave me nearly got me killed, the alert reader will understand my immediate feeling that someone had just kicked me in the groin several times.
‘I’m getting married, Mercurius!’
‘Congratulations, Stadhouder. May I ask who the lucky lady is?’
‘I haven’t decided yet. But I’m nearly twenty-six and I ought to find a bride, especially if I can enhance the security of these United Provinces by wedding a princess from one of the great powers.’
Obviously love was not a prerequisite, then.
‘I look at the last war, Mercurius, and think that it could all start again at any time. But if just one of the great powers had been allied to us, would the others have dared to attack?’
Writing now it seems hardly credible that in 1672 France, England, Sweden and a few Germans formed an alliance to attack us, and eventually we fought them off under the Stadhouder’s leadership. But we could hardly expect to do so again.
‘The obvious choices would be princesses of France or England. Unfortunately, the King of France’s daughters have all died, but he has two nieces, Marie Louise and Anne Marie. Anne Marie is only seven years old, but she would do at a pinch. Marie Louise is fifteen. I’ve seen a picture of her, Mercurius. She’s not repulsive.’
‘I am delighted to hear it, Stadhouder.’
‘My bigger concern is that I know Louis XIV. He’s the most self-centred man around, and if he took it into his head to attack us the fact that his niece was a hostage wouldn’t give him a moment’s pause. That rather defeats the object of marrying her. And, of course, she’s a Catholic and the people of this country are determined that they don’t want a Catholic leader. So if we had children I’d have to fight to bring them up as Protestants, and that would probably mean separating them from their mother’s influence and sending her to a nunnery.’
‘I can see the difficulty,’ I ventured uncertainly.
‘Whereas the King of England is a different matter!’ William began brightly. ‘He’s my uncle, for a start, and we’ve known each other a long time.’
This was true. Charles II had been exiled in the Netherlands and lived in Breda for a while, and when he was younger William had been a guest at the restored King’s court. The small problem here was that Charles had tried to introduce him to wine, women and the theatre, whereas William was much more interested in war, study and prayer. It was reported that the English King had referred to his nephew as the most boring youth in Christendom, though I don’t suppose that would have stopped him marrying his daughter to William if there was any advantage in it for him.
‘The snag is that Charles doesn’t have any daughters,’ continued William. ‘Not by the Queen, at any rate. But his brother, my uncle James, has two very fine girls, Mary and Anne. Do you know anything about horses, Mercurius?’
‘Only that one end has teeth and the other doesn’t.’
‘Well, if you breed horses you try to ensure that good characteristics are passed down and bad ones aren’t. I never met my grandfather Charles I, but he was a little fellow, and when he married Henrietta Maria it was remarked that he had managed to find the only princess in Europe who was even shorter than he was. And yet my uncles are both above two yards tall, and the Princess Mary is a strapping girl. People tell me she is well above middle height. How do you account for that, then? I mean, if they were horses you’d suppose that a stray stallion got into the field.’
‘It reminds us, Stadhouder, that our science is not as secure as we would like to think it is,’ I suggested.
‘What? Oh, you mean that we don’t know what we think we know. Well, that’s true, I suppose. Anyway, James has converted to Catholicism and he would like his daughters to marry French royalty, but Charles is determined that they have to remain Protestant. I’m telling you all this so you understand the background to your task, you see.’
Since no particular task had been outlined, I couldn’t really say I knew what it was all about, but I nodded politely, because that seemed to be expected of me.
‘The thing is, I’ve had a message conveyed by the Ambassador. Not our Ambassador, the English Ambassador here, Sir William Temple. Charles’ chief minister, the Earl of Danby, wants us to know that he is working towards an Anglo-Dutch wedding and he thinks that the time is right to make an approach. He can’t instruct their Ambassador here to start the matter without upsetting Uncle Charles, who likes to think that he is the embodiment of the government, but if we were to raise it with him, he would be bound to give the union some thought. And since, despite the advice of one or two of his ministers who want a French wedding, Charles is wary of France, we would be likely to succeed.’
‘I see,’ I said, because up to this point, I did.
‘Danby thinks that Charles approves of me and wants to ensure that his kingdom doesn’t revert to Catholicism, which would cause another civil war so soon after the last one, so marrying the second in line to the throne to me would be a guarantee of that. And if Charles told his brother that was what was going to happen, James would be bound to agree because he always does what his big brother says. In any case, the family line has always been that the King is appointed by God, meaning the King’s word is law, so if James defied the King now he could hardly expect obedience when he takes the throne, as he surely will, since the present Queen of England is past child bearing. I think Danby is right about that. But I know my uncle James. He may say yes, but if the opportunity arises to jam the cogs he’ll take it. And that’s where you can render me a great service.’
‘Stadhouder? Please explain.’
‘Haven’t I done so? I’m sending the Heer Van Langenburg to London as an Ambassador Extraordinary. He’ll do all the normal diplomatic stuff. But I want you to go with him. Ostensibly you’ll be there to ensure that the Princess Mary is a sound Protestant, but what I really want you to do is to look out for anyone who may be plotting against the marriage so it can be nipped in the bud.’
‘You want me to bribe them, Stadhouder?’
‘Goodness me, no! That’s what we have an Ambassador for. No, just tell him what you discover and he’ll deal with it. But a normal diplomat couldn’t just wander wherever he wanted and speak to anyone who crossed his path whereas you, as an ordained minister there for religious reasons, can do whatever you want without embarrassing either government.’
I liked this less and less, and I thought I had a convincing argument why I was not the man for this “little job”.
‘Forgive me, Stadhouder, but I assume the Princess Mary doesn’t speak Dutch, so how will I question her?’
‘I’ve thought of that, Mercurius. Bouwman here speaks English, don’t you, Bouwman?’
‘Yes, Excellency,’ came the reply, slightly guarded, I thought, as if he had no idea what was about to be suggested.