in England, and William had replied that they might as well leave none as so few. But now that this storm broke out, the ministers, seeing no possibility of carrying the number they had hoped for, sate silent, to the great disgust of the king.
This resolution went to strip William of his Dutch guards that he had brought with him, and who had attended him in so many actions, and of the brave Huguenots, who had done such signal service in Ireland. The spirit of the commons, instead of being merely economical, was in this instance petty and miserable. It was neither grateful nor becoming its dignity, in making so sweeping a reduction of the army, to begrudge the king who had rescued them from the miserable race of the Stuarts, and had so nobly acquiesced in everything which regarded their liberties, the small satisfaction of a few Dutch and Huguenot troops. The Huguenots especially, it might have been expected, would have experienced some sympathy from the parliament, not only in return for their own gallant services, but because their friends and fellow-religionists were at this moment suffering the severest persecution. But a deep dislike of foreigners had seized the nation, and this had been rendered the more intense from the lavish wealth which William heaped on Portland and others, and from his retiring every year to spend the summer months in Holland. They had never been accustomed to have their monarch passing a large portion of his time abroad, and they regarded it as an evidence that he only had any regard for the Dutch. The commons, without any regard to his feelings, introduced a bill founded on their resolution, carried it briskly through the house, and sent it up to the lords, where it also passed.
Deeply chagrined, William is said to have walked to and fro on learning that the commons insisted on his dismissing the Dutch guards, and to have muttered, "By God, if I had a son, these guards should not quit me." He wrote to lord Galway, one of his foreign friends, "There is a spirit of ignorance and malice prevails here beyond conception." To Heinsius he wrote in a similar strain, that he was so chagrined at the conduct of the commons, that he was scarcely master of his thoughts, and hinted at coming to extremities, and being in Holland sooner than he had thought. In fact, he was so much excited as to menace again throwing up the government. He sate down and penned a speech which he proposed to address to the two houses; it is still preserved in the British Museum. It ran:—"My Lords and Gentlemen,—I came into this kingdom, at the desire of the nation, to save it from ruin, and to preserve your religion, laws, and liberties; and for this object I have been obliged to sustain a long and burthensome war for this kingdom, which, by the grace of God and the bravery of this nation, is at present terminated by a good peace; in which you may live happily and in repose if you would contribute to your own security, as I recommended at the opening of the session. But seeing, on the contrary, that you have so little regard for my advice, and take so very little care of your own safety, and that you expose yourselves to evident ruin in depriving yourselves of the only means for your defence, it would neither be just nor reasonable for me to be witness of your ruin, not being able on my part to avoid it, being in no condition to defend and protect you, which was the only view I had in coming to this country." And it then went on to desire them to name proper persons to take charge of the government, promising, however, to come again whenever they would put him in his proper place, with proper power to defend them.
This looks more like the petulance of a schoolboy than the resolve of a serious and reflective monarch. It was the second time that William was on the point of menacing such an abandonment of the charge of government. If he had carried it into effect, the probable consequence would have been that the nation would have regarded it as an abdication, and have placed the princess Anne on the throne. If he really contemplated such an act, however, Somers extinguished the idea by solemnly saying that, if such were his majesty's resolve, he humbly desired to resign the great seal. He received it from him as sovereign, and he begged to return it whilst he continued so. This was an intimation that the chancellor believed his proposed speech would be received as an act of abdication, and he said no more of retiring. The rumour, however, got out; and, so far from the courtiers and commons expressing any regret, they made sport of it, Sunderland being said, when told William threatened to throw up the government, to have replied "Does he so? Well, there is Tom Pembroke (the earl), who is as good a block of wood as a king can be cut out of. We will send for him, and make him our king."
In such a spirit of disunion betwixt king and parliament closed the year 1698. William, however, endeavoured to preserve an air of concession towards the uncompromising commons. When the bill for the disbanding of the troops had passed the lords, he went thither on the 1st of February, 1699, and passed it. He did not hesitate to avow that he took the sweeping reduction, contrary to his earnest advice, as unkind; but he observed that it was his fixed opinion that nothing could be so fatal to the nation as any distrust or jealousy betwixt the king and his people. At the same time he reiterated his conviction that it was an erroneous policy. "I think myself obliged," he said, "in discharge of the trust reposed in me, and for my own justification, that no ill consequences may lie at my door, to tell you plainly my judgment, that the nation is left too much exposed. It is, therefore, incumbent upon you to take this matter into your serious consideration, and effectually to provide such a strength as is necessary for the safety of the kingdom and the preservation of the peace which God has given us." And, as the nation was quite right in opposing a standing army, William was quite right in opposing the too sudden disbandment. It was of consequence, with such a man as Louis XIV., to appear ready for action. He was watching for the disbandment of the armies of the allies, and the rapid dispersion of them no doubt greatly encouraged him in the grand attempt he was contemplating.
The commons thanked William for his address, professed great gratitude to him for so promptly complying with their desire, and declared that they would defend his sacred person and the kingdom from all enemies with their lives and fortunes. Imagining that the commons were at length touched with a degree of compunction, William made one more effort to retain his Dutch guards—a circumstance at which we cannot wonder when we recollect the attempts there had been to assassinate him, and the fidelity with
