Flashback, November 1688: William of Orange Invades England

Though invited by Protestant commanders and politicians to assume the British crown, Dutch-born William of Orange was taking no chances. He landed in November 1688 at Torbay, England, with 53 warships,1,700 cannon, 20,000 men, and 7,000 horses—enough to precipitate the most successful invasion of England since William the Conqueror did so in 1066.

Victors not only get to write the histories but even to coin the terms by which these are understood, and the successful conquest (who became William III once he assumed the English throne) only confirms the point. The series of military and political developments that followed, involving the end of the monarch William came to overthrow—his own father-in-law, King James II—came to be called “The Glorious Revolution.”

That “revolution” was meant as a marker in the evolution from “the divine right of kings” proclaimed by James toward a more constrained, constitutional monarchy, setting the seeds for democracy in North America. 

But the ouster of James was far less “glorious” to two groups that had benefited from his policy of toleration: Protestant Dissenters who had taken issue with the Church of England, now experiencing a severe setback, and Roman Catholics, who, especially in Ireland, found themselves at bay in every corner of society for supporting their co-religionist James, who ended up with the dubious distinction of being the last Catholic monarch of England, Scotland and Ireland.

It would also be a mistake to regard William simply as the guarantor of a new tolerance, a royal who ruled through restraint. As a 19^th-century American political boss would put it, he saw his opportunity and took it. The elected ruler of the Dutch Republic, William would much rather govern without someone looking over his shoulder. 

Fortunately for him, the tumultuous political situation in the home country of his wife, Princess Mary of England, presented that opportunity—and James could claim the proper lineage for those concerned about such things. Mary, James’ eldest daughter, was heir to the throne if the king didn’t sire a child, while William’s mother was James's older sister. This made the king his uncle and Mary his cousin as well as his wife.

For all his interest in military affairs, William, at least at this point, did not enjoy a reputation as a commander superior to his father-in-law. James, through his secretary of the navy, the famous diarist Samuel Pepys, had served creditably as Lord High Admiral. He had also won a victory over the Dutch in 1665.

But William had it all over James in craft and guile, holding his own counsel until he could reasonably assess those with whom he came in contact. Other men—very much including James’ older brother, King Charles II—would have been inclined to move slowly in a country where Catholics constituted only 6% of the population. Not James. 

The worldliness, wit, and winking attitude toward matters of the flesh so characteristic of Restoration comedy took their cue from the libertine nicknamed “the Merry Monarch.” As if that weren’t enough, Charles also proved powerfully adept at warding off potentially lethal political blows. 

But James’ obstinacy and arrogance reminded older government officials all too much of his father, and why he ended up executed. What could have been a political masterstroke--a Declaration of Indulgence that exempted Catholics and Dissenters from penal laws, moving the nation toward genuine tolerance--turned into a blunder when he dissolved Parliament, forced clergy and bishops to read the Declaration from their pulpits, and prosecuted the seven bishops who refused to comply.

Nevertheless, even a ruler without James’ undeniable faults might not have avoided sharing his fate, for as a Catholic convert—one who took his faith very seriously—he represented a direct threat to the power and influence wielded by Protestants in both government and the military. His more reluctant supporters were willing to bide their time in the hope that upon the death of 55-year-old James, the throne would pass to his Protestant daughter Mary.

But the announcement of an heir to the aging monarch and his wife, the Catholic Maria of Modena, who successfully gave birth in her late 40s after several miscarriages, still births and deaths in infancy energized the opposition and catalyzed the Resistance of the time. The news came on the heels of more pronouncements indicating that James, unlike Charles, was serious about his faith.

In contrast, out of necessity growing up, William learned how to maintain a veil of discretion, according to Thomas Babington Macaulay in his influential but problematic The History of England, from the Accession of James II: “Long before he reached manhood, he knew how to keep secrets, how to baffle curiosity by dry and guarded answers; how to conceal all passions under the same show of grave tranquility.”

All through 1688, William set the stage for his armada, working swiftly but surreptitiously, without letting key factions supporting him know what was happening on other fronts:

*He hired the most combat-ready soldiers from armies across Europe;

*He worked non-stop on the logistics of the expected campaign, with the help of the breadmakers of Rotterdam and the gunsmiths of Utrecht;

*He secured financial backing from banks, from Huguenots who had carried precious metals with them when they fled religious persecution, and gold equaling a hundred thousand guineas, from secret British supporters—all to go along with what the parsimonious William had put aside for an emergency;

*He exploited the religious resentments of Protestants even as he assured Catholics they had nothing to fear from him—winning the support of key members of the military and Church of England, while telling prominent English Catholics that James’ favoritism would only excite mobs who would perpetrate untold mayhem upon them; and,

*He allowed King Louis XIV to play into his hands, as Protestants all over Northern Europe came to fear that the Catholic “Sun King” would ally himself with an increasingly assertive co-religionist on the English throne.

The conspiracy against James might have unraveled but for perhaps England’s ablest soldier of the time secretly joining their ranks. Two and a half centuries, his illustrious descendant, Sir Winston Churchill, strenuously attempted to explain the conduct of John Churchill during this crisis, but it just won’t wash. It’s hard to do so given Churchill’s desire for preferment and riches; his profession of loyalty to the point of death to James, even as he was plotting to desert the king; and his advice to his monarch to visit Warminster, where he could be kidnapped.

As I explained in a prior post, this lieutenant general can easily be charged with ingratitude, since Charles and James had raised him from humble circumstances to preeminence in the English military. But, for all his justifications to the contrary, opportunism played the decisive role in his switch to William of Orange, who ended up naming him Duke of Marlborough. That opportunism can be seen in John Churchill’s secret letter several years later to James, in an attempt to get back into his good graces.

That letter illustrated nothing so much as Churchill’s lack of insight into political reality. In the interim, James had dismayed his followers by fleeing to France instead of confronting William; by leaving Ireland after losing the Battle of the Boyne; and by being unable to get over the destruction of another fleet, staffed by Louis XIV, before his very eyes.

England avoided a civil war, but because James lost his bid to remain in power, Catholics would continue to be second-class citizens until passage of Daniel O’ Connell’s Emancipation bill of 1829.