Queen in Waiting - Plaidy Jean (электронную книгу бесплатно без регистрации TXT) 📗

He allowed himself a rare moment of tenderness.

"We'll see it through," he said. "The worst that can happen will be that we're sent back to Hanover, and that does not seem such a bad idea to me."

Ermengarda replied that anything that put him in danger was the worst possible idea to her; but he knew best, she was well aware; and she was comforted.

And when she rode out and was recognized and jeered at, when she saw men and women wearing the white cockade, she said: "The King knows what is best. He will stay if he wants and go back if he wants."

But she hoped she would stay. She could not be homesick for Hanover when England offered unlimited opportunities for increasing her fortune—^for although the King had first place in her heart, money ran him very close.

The Duke of Marlborough was with the King and George eyed the great soldier suspiciously. Here was a man who could have been a great bulwark ... if he could have been trusted. He was no longer in his prime and the years of exile from the Court of Queen Anne had taken more toll of him than all the exigencies of war.

But now he was offering his help and George, himself a soldier, could judge that it was good.

The situation was grave. Already five thousand men were in arms against them. Let them cross the Border, let them set up their standard in England and the Crown would be in very grave danger indeed. This must not become a civil war; it was to be nothing more than a rebellious rising; but it must not be forgotten how easily the first could become the second.

"And what will you do?" asked George,

** Muster all the men we can and send them north. We have eight thousand men only; if we send all these north and are troubled with risings in the south, we shall be defeated. We must immediately raise new regiments; we must send for Dutch troops; and we must set up a camp in the Park, complete with cannon to show the people of London what they can expect if these riots become really menacing. The Prince can be useful. He and the Princess have some popularity with the people which ... er..."

The King looked at the Duke and scowled. "Which I have not?" he said gruffly.

"Your Majesty's lack of English is a great barrier, naturally."

"The Prince's is far from good, I gather."

"It exists. Your Majesty, and the accent is quaint. This amuses and you know how your subjects enjoy being amused."

"They'll never find me amusing them by aping their gibberish."

"No, Your Majesty, but the fact that the Prince has done so gives him a certain popularity. He will be with the troops in the Park; he will review them with Your Majesty and the Princess. And I think I should be with you. We will show that in adversity the royal family can stand together and that any little differences of opinion which may have existed are forgotten in the present danger."

The King grunted. He could see the wisdom of Marlborough's suggestion and being a soldier himself he knew that, however devious the Duke was, however unreliable, he must admire him as the greatest soldier living—perhaps the greatest who had ever lived.

Marlborough was in command of the situation. The camp was set up in the Park; the Habeas Corpus Act was suspended and the Riot Act was read on the smallest provocation.

The people began to realize that although there might be excitement in the streets there was also danger.

The Prince reviewed the troops in the Park. That he enjoyed very much. Beaming with pleasure he would strut among the soldiers, complimenting them always on their good appearance, their obvious bravery and above all for being English.

The King was often with him and always managed to curb any outward sign of his dislike; and when Dutch troops arrived in England, when certain Jacobites were arrested and sent to the Tower, when the Duke of Argyll, Commander of the King's Forces, marched to the Border, tension relaxed. It seemed that Hanoverian George was more firmly on the throne than many had believed possible.

James arrived at Peterhead on a bleak December day which matched his mood.

He could not forget Bolingbroke's warnings and he was wishing that Bolingbroke had never come to France. For so often he had planned this invasion; he had talked of nothing else during the last years of Anne's reign; but in his heart there was a fatalism which made him believe that the throne of England would never be his. He had inherited many of his father's characteristics and had no power to win men to his side. Hand-

some as he was, possessed of the notorious Stuart charm, he had only to spend a little time in any company for it to doubt his success. He was melancholy by nature; he believed in failure rather than success.

In the circumstances it seemed strange that he should have embarked for Scotland; but he knew that once the Queen was dead an occasion would arise which would force him to take this action. His friend Louis XIV who fervently hoped, for the sake of Catholicism, that he would become King of England, had expected him to make a bid for his throne; and he had always implied that when the opportunity arose he would do so. It had come; Mar had set up his standard in Scotland and loyal friends were waiting for him.

In his small craft with only eight guns and six friends, in the uniform of French naval officers, his spirits did lift a little when he saw the land. Scotland should be particularly dear to all Stuarts; it was natural that he should land here and find loyal friends. It was anathema to good Scotsmen to see a German rule them when they had a good Stuart King living.

At Peterhead he was welcomed by a very small company but the welcome was warm; and keeping his identity secret he crossed Aberdeenshire to be met by the Earl of Mar, who welcomed him in the name of Scotland and for his services was awarded a dukedom.

"Your Majesty," said Mar, **if it pleases you we shall crown you James VIII of Scotland and III of England at Scone in January."

"That will give me pleasure if it comes to pass," murmured James.

"It shall be so. Your Majesty," Mar assured him.

And so to the palace of Scone there to make a court for James III! This must be set up with all the pomp and ceremony of the Court at St. James's that there might be no doubt that this was indeed the palace of the King.

This was pleasant. James allowed himself to be treated as a King; he was gracious and charming. So different, it was said, from the crude George of Hanover.

There must be a ball and a banquet to celebrate the return of the King.

There was little money but that must be found somehow; all those who possessed jewels must give them to make a crown for the King and provide the money for the necessary celebrations.

And so while Mar and James celebrated his arrival in Scotland, while they busied themselves with plans for the coronation at Scone, Argyll was marching north with the Dutch troops wlio had now arrived in England.

When James heard the news he shook his head sadly.

"We are lost," he said. "What hope against Argyll?"

"Argyll is a Scot, Your Majesty," pointed out Mar. "I have heard it said that he is delaying his advance in your cause, not that of the German."

"Nay," murmured James, "too many come against us. I shall at least not be surprised if I am unfortunate, for so have I been from the day of my birth. It was doubted then that I was the King's son; and shortly after my birth my father was driven from his throne. What luck can 1 expect now?"

"All fortunes have to change, Your Majesty."

"Not mine," he mourned. "Not mine."