“Great and Noble Lords—it was nineteen years ago on the 30th of July last that, for the first time, I took the oath in your Assembly in the capacity of Grand Pensionary of the Province of Holland.… It has pleased God, in His anger, to bring down upon the States those misfortunes in which they are now involved, and that in a manner so difficult to understand … that posterity will find it hard to believe.
“What is most distressing at this unhappy conjuncture is, that these sudden disasters and misfortunes have produced in the minds of the people not only a sentiment of general fear and dread, but a sinister feeling against their magistrates.…
“Unjust as these suspicions are, I, at any rate, am overwhelmed by them, though I cannot but think that I might have been spared, since, as a humble servant of the State, I have only been bound to obey implicitly the commands of my masters.
“But whether it is that I am thought not to have properly carried out the functions of my office, or that ignorant people imagine that I have appropriated what never passed through my hands, I am so furiously inveighed against that I can in conscience come to no other conclusion than that my services must henceforth be prejudicial to the State.… I have, therefore, thought it would be best to beg your Noble and Great Mightinesses, as I very humbly do, that it may please your goodness to relieve me of the exercise of my office.”
Thus John de Witt, speaking for the last time in the Assembly, a few days before the States informed the Prince that the Perpetual Edict had been torn leaf from leaf, and each town returned the signature of its Deputies.
His resignation had been granted with grudging. There had been talk of an inquiry first; more than a hint of suspicion.
Yet the man who was accused of enriching himself from the public funds, left after a lifetime of office so poor that he was forced to remind the States of their oft-repeated promise of a seat in the High Court, in order to have a livelihood for himself and his family.
And he had to endure the humiliation of this post being reluctantly given him; for the six hundred guilders it was worth, piteous sum as it was, would be his principal fortune.
The clamorous cries of the crowd assailing the very clouds with the name of William of Orange came to his ears even through the peace of his beloved garden.…
Cornelius was in the Gevangenpoort expecting death … and his brother must see the Prince.