So she smiled and was gay; and Sarah Churchill watching said to herself: “She is a woman of stone. She shows no remorse for her father. This is most unbecoming. She is behaving like a woman in an inn, peering into cupboards, spying into the beds.…”

Sarah disliked keeping her opinions to herself, but on this occasion she would. William and Mary would reward those who helped them and the glorious Marlborough title was not yet won.

Only when Mary was installed in Whitehall Palace did William come to her.

She returned his cool greeting with suppressed exuberance. After the long separation she had forgotten how withdrawn he could be.

“William,” she said, “I am so happy to be with you. But you look ill. I fear this has been a great strain on your health.”

He shook his head impatiently. Had she not learned yet how he hated references to his infirmities?

“You appear to be in good health,” he said shortly. “As for myself, I am well enough. The sooner we are recognized as joint sovereigns the better; and I have arranged for the ceremony to take place in the Banqueting room.”

“Yes, William. Tell me, are you happy now that all is well?”

“We cannot be sure that all is well. It is early yet.”

“But the people want us, William. They have shown that clearly.” She laid her hand on his arm. “Your fame is known throughout the world,” she went on. “The English know that you will rule them well.”

“They were not eager to accept me in the beginning, suggesting that you should rule as Queen and I as Consort.”

“I would never have allowed that, William. I would have made them understand that I could not tolerate such a position. You are my husband and I regard it my duty to obey you.”

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.

He said firmly: “This was brought about by the King’s ill conduct and what I and my wife have done was forced on us. I would say that I have done nothing which did not have my wife’s approval.”

This was one of those rare moments when Mary refused to be guided by her husband. It was the second of truth when she saw him not as the supreme being but as a man without charm, without love for her.

She said sharply: “If my father should gain his authority, you have none but yourself to thank for it. It was you who let him go as you did.”

For a few moments husband and wife stood staring at each other. William felt a coldness touch his heart. It was occasions like this—and there had been but a few in the course of their married life which brought home to him that he was unsure of his wife. He could never be certain when her docility might drop from her—like her great orange cloak—and she show clearly that she was a Stuart ruler.

It was for this very reason that he kept coldly aloof from her; it was the very pivot on which their strange relationship revolved.

He said: “It is time I left for Westminster Hall.”

And signing to his attendants he left the apartment.

In the Cockpit Anne was being dressed for the Coronation, though she could take no active part in it, being so heavily pregnant.

Sarah was given instructions as to how the Princess’s jewels should be worn when one of the women hurried in in some excitement.

“You have heard the news?” she asked.

“What news is this?” demanded Sarah.

“King James has landed in Ireland. They say the whole of that country is welcoming him.”

In the mirror Anne sought Sarah’s face and she saw it so transformed by fear that she trembled.

“I cannot believe this,” blurted out Sarah.

“It’s true, Lady Churchill. King James has written a letter to Queen Mary. I heard that she is mighty upset on receiving it and that she has even accused King William of letting her father go.”

“This is … terrible!” said Sarah, and wished that she could find John at once to discuss the matter with him. What of their fine title now? What would King James have to give the Earl of Marlborough who had deserted to the other side just at that moment when he could have been of greater help to him than ever before?

Anne was thinking: If he comes back, he will forgive me.… He always forgave me.

She turned to Mrs. Dawson and asked: “Do you believe the child they call the Prince of Wales is my brother?”

“I do, Madam,” said Mrs. Dawson rather sharply, for she had often assured Anne of the falseness of the warming-pan story. “I am as sure that he is your brother as I am that you are the daughter of the late Duchess of York.”

There was a deep silence in the apartment; and for once even Sarah had nothing to say.

The ceremony was late in starting. The people were restive. There was whispering in the streets. Was it true that James had landed in Ireland? What would happen next? Would there be a bloody civil war?

Queen Mary was being carried in her chair into the state room of Westminster Hall; she was pale and clearly shaken. What news to receive on the day of one’s coronation! How disquieting for a daughter to hear a father’s curses in her heart while she took the crown which had been stolen from him!

When they stood together—she and William—and the question was asked: “Will you accept William and Mary for your King and Queen?” It seemed to them both that there was too long a pause before the acclamation.

It was an uneasy coronation. When the offering should have been made William discovered that on account of the upset he had omitted to provide himself with the necessary money and Lord Danby had to count out twenty guineas which he would put into the gold basin on behalf of the King.

An evil omen? asked those who were only too eager to look for evil omens.

Mary and William were fervent in their promises to maintain the scripture and the Protestant religion, holding up their right hands as they did so; between them they carried the sword. It was unlike any other coronation and the absence of the most important figures of the Church—the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of Durham and of Bath and Wells—was constantly remarked on.

All the principal participators were relieved when it was over. But that was not the end, for later during the banquet in Westminster Hall the champion of the King and Queen failed to arrive to throw down his gauntlet and challenge any to a duel who would not accept the sovereigns. Uneasily they waited; and it was dark when Sir Charles Dymoke made his appearance.

“Why so late?” was the whisper.

“It is because he is the son of James II’s champion. He is unwilling to champion those who dethroned James.”

But the glove was thrown and a dark figure which looked like an old woman ran to it and picked it up. As she was allowed to disappear among the crowd there was a gasp of horror through the hall.

A challenge!

This threw a gloom on the banquet which the very presence of William in any circumstances would have prevented from being very gay.

The Coronation day was over. What next? asked the people. They would not have been surprised to hear that James had landed in England in order to defend his crown.

On the following day a tall man was seen pacing up and down in Hyde Park at a well known dueling spot. Many people saw him, but Sir Charles Dymoke did not go out to meet him.

There were no cries of “No popery” in the streets now, but were the people satisfied? If Mary had seemed a little contrite, if William had not been so dour, they would have been more ready to accept them.

What had they done? they asked themselves. It was true they wanted no popery; but was it going to be the days of Oliver Cromwell all over again? They did not like sour Dutchmen; they did not like ungrateful daughters. Someone produced a verse which appealed to many, and all over the city it was being quoted. It was written after the Coronation and ran:

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