Plaidy, Jean - Royal Sisters - The Story of the Daughters of James II

She was looking at him almost piteously, begging for some affection. He felt angry because she was taller than he was and had to look down at him; he was angry because these people wanted her and grudgingly accepted him. There were always these considerations between them. With Elizabeth it was different. With her he could discuss state affairs, make a little play at lovemaking; and he could feel the superior male all the time.

He was eager for the ceremonies to go forward with all speed, for he would not feel safe until he had been publicly proclaimed and crowned King of England.

“I wish the ceremony to be performed with all speed,” he said.

“But of course, William.”

“I have a great desire to get out of this city. I like not the air and I have seen a palace at Hampton which I think would suit me better.”

“Hampton Court Palace! Ah, yes, I remember it so well.…”

“It is unsightly and needs alterations; the gardens are a disgrace.…”

She began to smile. “Oh, William,” she cried, “we must plan alterations. I lack your inspiration in these matters, but I hope you will allow me to help.”

She had clasped her hands about his arm; he stood rigid for a while. Then he twisted his lips into something like a smile.

“That might be so,” he said.

Then he shook her off and left the apartment.

Dear beloved husband! she thought. I had forgotten how dignified, how remote, how utterly noble he is!

The ceremonial recognition of the new King and Queen took place in the Banqueting room of Whitehall.

Mary, resplendent in state dress, took her place with William on the canopied chairs of state, their attendants ranged about them.

Lord Halifax then asked them if they would accept the crown, and they both declared their willingness to do so.

Were they a little too willing? Those watching thought so; for they did so without expressing the slightest regret at the unfortunate circumstances which had put them into this position.

Those watching had not wanted James but they did not like William’s coldness and Mary’s apparent indifference. For all his sins James was her father. Was not Mary’s blithe acceptance of the crown which could only be hers because of her father’s downfall, a little heartless? They would have liked a little reluctance, a little remorse. But there appeared to be none.

The ceremony in the Banqueting room was in February and the Coronation was fixed for April; but William had no intention of remaining at Whitehall until that time.

He said peevishly that he could not endure the London air and he saw no reason why there should be ceremonies and banquets; he considered them an extravagance.

He wanted to explore Hampton Court, and thither he went with the Queen.

The people were not pleased. This was going to be a very dull reign if there was no Court. They remembered Charles sauntering across the park with his dogs and ladies; they remembered him at the playhouse, or playing pell mell. Even James had kept a Court. But within a few days William had retired to Hampton Court; and the Queen had gone with him.

The Queen, however, had shown signs of gaiety, and they were certain that if she were in control there would be a gay Court. It was the Dutchman who was spoiling everything. Perhaps after the Coronation there would be a Court. In any case the Princess Anne would not wish to live in obscurity; she would surely continue with her card parties; and they had heard that the Queen was fond of dancing.

But during those weeks the King and Queen remained at Hampton Court and only came to London for necessary business. Mary felt happier at Hampton, where there were not so many memories; and William, who had already started to plan alterations to the Palace and gardens, was more friendly toward her when he was thus engaged than otherwise; he even allowed her to share his preoccupation.

It was the day of the Coronation and bright April sunshine streamed into the Palace of Whitehall and the Cockpit.

Outside the bells were ringing and the people were crowding into the streets; but this was no ordinary coronation, for it was rarely sovereigns were crowned while their predecessors lived. There were many who shook their heads and said no good would come of it. They had been against James; but when they saw his daughter and her husband calmly taking what was his, their sense of justice revolted. It was so unnatural, they declared.

Many of the Bishops would not take the oath of allegiance, declaring that they had sworn allegiance to a King who still lived. Even some of those Bishops whom James had sent to the Tower were among those who declined to take the oath; and the Archbishop of Canterbury refused to crown them.

The Coronation must not be delayed because of these obstinate men, declared William.

Mary was being dressed in her coronation robes; she looked very regal in purple velvet edged with ermine, a circlet of gold and precious stones gleaming on her dark hair.

Elizabeth Villiers was present, her eyes secretive; she was still William’s mistress, Mary knew.

William came into her apartment; he was already dressed and she would leave Whitehall for Westminster Hall an hour after him.

His face was white and set and he came to her and said without ceremony: “I have had bad news.”

“Oh, William!”

“Your father has landed in Ireland and taken possession of it. Only a few towns—among them Londonderry—are not in his hands.”

“Oh, William!” Her face was ashen and he looked at her with distaste, remembering her childish habit of repeating his name in moments of crisis.

“I have a letter for you. It is from your father.”

Mary took the letter in her shaking hands, and as she did so she pictured him sitting down to write to her, the tears streaming down his cheeks while he remembered how once he had loved his dear daughter.

“You should read it,” commanded William coldly.

The words danced before her eyes for she could not concentrate. Sentences seemed to leap from the page to wound her.

Hitherto I have made all fatherly excuses for what has been done. I attributed your part in the revolution to obedience to your husband, but the act of being crowned is in your power, and if you are crowned while I and the Prince of Wales are living, the curses of an outraged father will light upon you, as well as those of God who has commanded duty to parents …

The letter fluttered to the ground. Mary stood very still staring at it while William with a gesture of disgust picked it up and read it.

“It was well timed,” he said; but for once he was unable to hide the fact that he was shaken. James in Ireland—intending to fight for one of the three crowns—meant that his position was very insecure. The Archbishop and Bishops refusing to take the oath of allegiance! James calling down curses on them!

What had he done? He had driven his father-in-law from the throne, that he might take it. Had he not always—ever since the midwife, Mrs. Tanner, had declared she saw three crowns about his head at birth—had his gaze directed on his father-in-law’s throne?

He saw that some of those who had come with him into the chamber and those who had already been there were looking significantly at each other.