There was one friend with whom he could talk without restraint; this was William Bentinck who resembled him in some ways; they had been drawn together when they had first met and William had found Bentinck serious, intelligent, in fact so much like himself that he might have been his brother. Bentinck, however, was less brusque than William; he was able to couch a demand diplomatically in a manner which William found impossible. He supplied a quality which William lacked and William was beginning to rely on him and kept him at his side.
It was Bentinck who was with the Prince on that fateful day in the year 1672, two years after William’s visit to England.
The two friends had been talking uneasily for England and France had become allies and were threatening Holland; there was a smoldering anger in William’s eyes as he faced his friend.
“Traitors,” he said. “My own uncles! I believe that they had no intention of being my friends.”
“They would if it was to their advantage.”
“But they are ready to make senseless war.”
“Not senseless from their point of view if they subdue us. I have always suspected that Charles was secretly trafficking with Louis.”
“I hate Louis. I should hate Charles, but he is my uncle and when I am with him I find it impossible to do anything but like him.”
“It is an effect he has on many, I believe. Therefore we should be especially wary.”
William clenched his fists together and said: “Bentinck, what will happen now? I will never let Holland be conquered. If they would make me their Stadtholder …”
“The de Wittes will never allow it. They cling to their power. They are determined as ever that the Stadtholderate shall not return to Holland.”
“The Dutch Republic needs a leader. It needs me as once it needed my great-grandfather.”
“I believe the people know it.”
“But what use when they are ruled by the de Wittes. Who are these de Wittes? Why should they rule our country? What tradition have they? It should be Orange for the Dutch … as it used to be. And now, Bentinck, this war! I shall lead my men to victory. And then … come back to be ruled by … the de Wittes. Would to God I could be rid of that pair of brothers.”
“They are too strong … as yet.”
They heard sounds of arrival from below and Bentinck went to the window to see who had come to Dort.
They were not left long in doubt. A messenger had arrived with a letter for William.
He dismissed the messenger, read it slowly; then looked at his friend.
“From de Witte,” he said. “It seems that the people are growing angry. They are threatening him and Cornelius. They’re blaming them for the war. Louis has five times our forces and they are blaming the de Wittes … who are afraid, Bentinck, because in the streets of The Hague the people are crying for Orange.”
“Your moment has come.”
William nodded his head. “They need me now. When disaster threatens they call for Orange. This is strange, Bentinck. The de Wittes are calling for Orange.”
“How so?”
William looked at the paper in his hands. “The people are gathering about their house. They are waiting for them to come out. The people of Holland are not easily aroused, Bentinck, but when they believe justice should be done they do it. The de Witte brothers are afraid. They are hinting great promises, Bentinck. If I go to The Hague I shall have this and that. If I go to The Hague … show myself to the people I will calm them, so they think. It’s true, Bentinck. I could go into those streets and disperse the crowds. Are they not calling for Orange?”
“Then you will make haste to go?”
William shook his head slowly.
“Not yet, my friend,” he said. “Not yet.”
The mob had lashed itself to a frenzy of hatred. Groups of angry people shouted together. “This,” they cried, “is what happens when two men seek to rule us. Who are these de Wittes? They have robbed us of our Prince and they have taken the titles themselves—only they do not use them. They assume all that goes with them though.”
“Hurrah for Orange. Where is our Prince? Our Prince will lead us to victory. He will save Holland. He is William … like that other William. William of Orange. God bless the Prince.”
And the more they shouted for William, the more angry they grew with those men who had robbed him of his position among them. Men felt for daggers at their sides; some carried cudgels. The de Wittes could not remain within the house forever. And if they did it was not impossible to force an entry. But let them come out. Let them see what a crowd of angry people had in store for them.
They waited and grew impatient. But the de Wittes were not cowards. When it became clear that the Prince of Orange had no intention of coming to The Hague, they knew what they would have to do.
John and his younger brother Cornelius understood what was in the other’s mind. They had done what they had done for the sake of Holland; they were two men who had loved their country and believed that she needed to be free of a ruler who was such because his father was before him.
“Are you ready, Cornelius?” asked John.
“I am ready, brother,” was the answer.
Calmly they walked into the street. A shout went up as they were recognized.
“It is. It is!”
“The brothers de Witte!”
“Come, you brave men, what are you waiting for?”
The crowd fell upon them.
William came to The Hague with high excitement in his heart. This was the dream of a lifetime achieved.
Holland was his to command; and the first thing was to wage war against her enemies. He was Stadtholder now, General of his armies and Admiral of his navy. That which he believed was his by right of his inheritance was returned to him; and all because two men—two good men he would admit, but two mistaken men—had been viciously murdered in the streets of The Hague.
Bentinck said: “This is the turning point.”
“At least,” answered William, “now I shall have a country to rule.”
“It may be said in some quarters that you could have saved the de Wittes.”
“My presence in The Hague might have done that. On the other hand the people hated them. They wanted me, Bentinck. The people love a Prince. They want no old men who have taken their place because of their shrewdness. They want a Prince and I am their Prince. It was a horrible murder and I suppose one should regret it, but to you I will confess that this deed has much relieved me.”
“I trust you will not be so frank with others.”
“Nay, when have I ever been over-frank? When have I talked when silence should be maintained? They called my great-grandfather The Silent. I think mayhap that is another virtue I have inherited from him.”
Later he addressed his people while they shouted themselves hoarse for Orange.
The times were stark, he told them. He had no soft words for them. Weary battles lay ahead of them. They had had false friends but at least now they knew who their enemies were, and they could trust him to lead them.
“I will fight for Holland,” he told them, “and if necessary I shall die in the last dyke.”
The country was wild with joy. They could not fail. William of Orange would lead them to victory; they could put their trust in him as their ancestors had in that other William.
The people of Holland were not disappointed in their new leader. William showed himself to be a man of single purpose; and that purpose now was to free Holland from her enemies and to keep her free. He was a man who was determined to lead them; now was his opportunity to show the world that inches are not necessary to greatness.
After a few months of battle England was not averse to peace. Both Charles and James had come to understand that the young man who had been led to storm the apartments of the maids of honor with such determination could show the same enthusiasm for more worthy causes. William of Orange had become a man to be respected.