Claverhouse | Page 4

support the claims
of the House of Bourbon to the throne of Spain. Supplies were obtained
for immediate purposes by closing the Exchequer, an act which ruined
half the goldsmiths in London. As a set-off against this, a royal
proclamation, arrogating to itself powers only Parliament could rightly
exercise, suspended the laws against Nonconformists and Catholics.
The latter were, indeed, allowed to say Mass only within their private
houses, but to dissenters of every other class was granted the freest
liberty of public worship.
The declaration of war followed close on the declaration of indulgence.
The immediate result of the latter was the release of John Bunyan from
an imprisonment of twelve years, and the publication of the "Pilgrim's
Progress." A more important and lasting result was the Revolution of
1688. Both declarations were unpopular, but the Declaration of
Indulgence was the most unpopular of the two. It was unpopular with
the zealous Churchman for the concessions it made both to Papist and
Puritan. It was unpopular with the Puritan because he was compelled to
share it with the Papist. It was unpopular with the Papist because it was
less liberal to him than to the Puritan. It was unpopular with all classes
of patriotic Englishmen alike, because it directly violated that
prerogative of the Legislature for which so much English blood had

been already shed. It was soon, indeed, repealed, and its repeal was
soon followed by the dissolution of the Cabal, the passing of the Test
Act, and peace with Holland. But though the fears of the nation were
thus laid to rest for a time, it now first became clear to those who could
look beyond the passing day, and whose vision was sharpened by the
memory of what had been, how surely England was moving under the
son back again to a state of things which had cost the father his crown
and his life.
But to return to the declaration of war. Lewis received, and probably
expected to receive, but little support from his English allies, and in a
furious action fought off the coast of Suffolk De Ruyter more than held
his own against the combined fleets of France and England. But on
land the French King carried all before him. Led by Condé and Turenne,
the ablest captains of the age, a vast host poured across the Rhine. The
Dutch were waked from the vain dreams of a French alliance, into
which they had been lulled by the chiefs of the great merchant class
which had risen to power on the fall of the House of Orange, only to
find themselves helpless. Town after town opened its gates to the
invader: three out of the seven provinces of the Federation were already
in his hands: his watch-fires were seen from the walls of Amsterdam. In
the first mad paroxysm of their despair the people rose against their
leaders. De Ruyter, who had borne their flag to victory on many a hard
fought day, was insulted in the public streets: the Grand Pensionary,
John De Witt, and his brother Cornelius were brutally murdered before
the palace of the States-General at the Hague. The office of Stadtholder
was re-established; and the common voice called back to it a prince of
that House which twenty years ago had been excluded for ever from the
affairs of a State which had never existed without it.
William Henry, great-grandson of the founder of the Dutch Republic,
hereafter to be known as William the Third of England, was then in his
twenty-second year. The heroic spirit of William the Silent lived again
in the frail body of his descendant. Without a moment's hesitation he
accepted the hard and thankless task imposed upon him. With wise
counsel and brave words he calmed and revived the drooping hearts of
his countrymen. He rejected with scorn the offers both of Charles and

Lewis to seduce him from his allegiance. He replied to Buckingham's
remonstrances on the folly of a struggle which could only mean ruin to
the Commonwealth, that he would fight while there was a ditch left for
him to die in. His courage spread. The Dutch flew to arms: without a
regretful voice they summoned to their aid their last irresistible ally: the
dykes were cut, and soon the waters, destroying to save, spread over all
that trim and fertile land. The tide of invasion was checked, and with
the next spring it began to roll slowly backward. The great princes of
the Continent became alarmed at this new prospect of French ambition.
The sluggish Emperor began to bestir himself. Spain, fast dwindling to
the shadow of that mighty figure which had once bestrode two worlds,
sent some troops to aid a cause which was, indeed, half her own. By sea
the