254 Chapter XI
The Princess of Orange, as the crisis grew, seizing the initiative from her flabby
husband, started on a dramatic journey, with two companions, from Nimwegen to
the Hague, there to rally and inspire the bewildered followers of the Prince. She
declared that no one would dare to stop her; she was in fact stopped by the Free
Corps. She was obliged to go back to Nimwegen, her mission unaccomplished.
This affair caused a great sensation. A handful of armed burghers had interfered
with a great lady’s freedom of movement. The Princess’ brother was now King of
Prussia, and he declared that his sister must receive satisfaction for the indignity
she had suffered. The Patriots offering only to send delegates to a conference, and
otherwise refusing to humble themselves, the King despatched 20,000 Prussian
troops into the Netherlands. Harris’ diplomacy, the opportune involvement of
Austrian and Russian forces in a Turkish war, and the known fact that France was
disabled from intervention by mounting troubles at home, all persuaded the Prus-
sian King to spare so sizable a portion of his army. The Prussians were commanded
by the Duke of Brunswick, the same who was to command them in the invasion of
France five years later. In 1787, as in 1792, he issued a “Brunswick Manifesto.” This
one was milder than the one against revolutionary Paris; it only announced that no
one allowing the Prussians to pass would be harmed. The Prussians in short order
occupied Utrecht and Amsterdam. Few shots were fired; the Free Corps dissolved;
the citizen- soldiers disappeared before the regular Prussian forces. Patriots every-
where changed or concealed their opinions, or fled from the country. The House of
Orange was restored to its former position. “I could not keep my eyes from water-
ing,” remarked Sir James Harris, at the gratitude of the Prince and “of those who
compose the uppermost class of the people.”^21
It was a great diplomatic triumph for Great Britain to hold the United Prov-
inces outside the orbit of France. The balance of power was “maintained,” accord-
ing to Cobban; actually, it would seem that, with the weakening of France, the
phenomenal increase of British and Prussian power since the Seven Years’ War
had been carried further. Sir James Harris became Baron Malmesbury (later Earl),
it being ascertained that his income of £4,000 a year was enough to support the
honor; and he was permitted, by a singular favor of the Prince whom he had
rescued, to write je maintiendrai, the motto of the House of Orange, against an
orange background on his crest. Fox, Pitt, Burke, were enthusiastic. It all reminded
him of an old romance, said Burke: “a chivalrous king, hearing that a princess had
been affronted, takes his lance, assembles his knights and determines to do her
justice.” One sees already his “delightful vision” of Marie Antoinette in the French
Revolution, and the ten thousand swords flashing from their scabbards in her
defense. Nor was Burke much inclined to be troubled by scruples: “It was not
necessary for us to trouble ourselves with definitions of the legality of the govern-
ment of this or that country, or the strict construction of the constitution; but it
was enough if we saw an opportunity of restoring that party to power, which was
most likely to prove a valuable friend of Great Britain.” The King of Prussia, for
his part in this mixture of knight errantry and Realpolitik, carried off five tons of
21 Ibid., 188. Cobban, Vijlbrief, and Geyl agree that it was mainly Harris who restored the Prince,
though their feelings toward the fact are very different.