Виктория Холт - The Queen's Devotion - The Story of Queen Mary II

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.

There was consternation among the governing body. Was Torrington the man to lead the fleet in this time of danger? Hotheaded Monmouth offered to go out and take over from Torrington if the need arose. I refused to allow that, for I was sure interference from Monmouth would be disastrous. Caermarthen thought that we should send Admiral Russell to take Torrington’s place.

I pondered this for a while but I came to the conclusion that, as Torrington was Admiral of the Fleet, it would be unwise at such a time to make a change.

“Torrington holds the post,” I said. “I am sure he will do his duty. He is an honest man.”

Meanwhile Torrington reminded us that he had frequently warned us of the growing strength of the French Navy. He was unhappy about the situation for which he was unprepared.

I cannot bear to think even now of the disgrace of that battle. It was a disaster from the beginning. Torrington abandoned the Isle of Wight to the French and retreated up the Channel. When he saw the French hoving into sight, he gave the order to attack. The Dutch fleet were in the van. There were less than sixty ships against eighty French. Only a Francis Drake could have succeeded in such circumstances and Torrington did not have that kind of genius. The Dutch fleet fought bravely, without much assistance from Torrington and his ships. Torrington took refuge up the Thames and the Dutch fleet was shattered.

The only relief which came out of that action was that the French did not take advantage of their victory and contented themselves with merely burning the town of Teignmouth.

But what a disgrace it was! People were saying that there had been no luck in England since the new King came. They blamed William more than they did me. He had left the country in a time of peril; ships which should have been defending England were in Ireland. People were saying that if King James returned he would find it as easy to defeat the Orangeman as the French had.

I knew it was no use to mourn over defeat. I must take action. The ships which had been damaged must be immediately repaired. Who knew when we might need them again? I ordered twelve new ships to be built without delay.

I was ashamed that Torrington had allowed the Dutch to bear the full brunt of the battle, and I sent an envoy to The Hague with my regrets and I gave orders that the wounded Dutch were to be given the best attention and compensated for their losses.

Any dissatisfaction which might have followed was forgotten in the fear that the French would show their strength at sea by attempting an invasion.

Then suddenly our fortunes changed.

There was news from Ireland. William was victorious. He had defeated my father at the Battle of the Boyne.

MY RELIEF WAS TEMPERED WITH ANXIETY. William had been wounded. There were reports in France that he had been killed. The French went wild with joy at the news. I heard that there were celebrations in the streets of Paris with caricatures of my husband, irreverent and cruel. It was an indication of how important they held him to be. By that time I had heard that William’s wound was slight. He had grazed his shoulder blade. My father had escaped to Dublin, which was another great relief to me.

Considering the importance of that battle, the losses were not great. Five hundred of our men lost their lives and one thousand five hundred of our opponents died. But how significant was that battle! My father was in flight. What would he do? Return to France? Wait for another chance? He was getting old and would be losing hope, so perhaps this would be the end of the conflict.

How I hoped so, and how I rejoiced that he had escaped. What I had dreaded most had been avoided. It was good to hear the rejoicing in the streets. William was almost a hero. They would never forgive his solemn ways but at least he had won a great victory and was given credit for that.

The Catholics were lying low; there were expressions of loyalty from several sources. The defeat of Beachy Head was forgotten in the all-important Battle of the Boyne.

My face had ceased to swell; William was coming home; and my father was safe. I was happier than I had thought possible only a short time before.

I was sorry though that Torrington was court-martialled, but that was later — not until the end of the year. I always thought it was unfair to blame him. William did; but he had never liked him, and that was mutual. Torrington defended himself with dignity and said that he had not had the strength to engage the French. The English fleet was not in home waters. If he had imitated the recklessness of the Dutch, the result would have been not only a lost battle at sea but a disaster for England.

I was relieved when he was acquitted. He did not, however, take another command, but went to live in the country.

Meanwhile William was home. Ready to welcome him as the victor of the Boyne, the people expected a triumphant procession through the streets of London. They assembled to cheer and there he was, riding in his carriage instead of on horseback. I dare say he was fatigued. He was indeed recovering from his wound. He wanted only the peace of Hampton Court. He did not raise his arm or give an acknowledgment of the cheers. How I wished he would understand the needs and wishes of the people!