"Within a week-two at the outside-the land approaches to the city will be completely invested," the prince predicted. "And since the Spanish also now control the Zuider Zee, there will be no relief from that quarter either. I will do what I can to smuggle supplies into the city, but… it will not be much." A bit hurriedly: "More than you might think, though. No Spanish fleet is going to be able to stop Dutch boatmen from getting at least a trickle of supplies into Amsterdam. Certainly not after winter sets in."
Rebecca nodded. She knew, from her studies, that navies of the future would maintain year-round blockades. But that was not something within the capability of 17 th -century fleets.
"Still," the prince said grimly, "it will be a very difficult siege. Very difficult. Hunger and disease are certain, epidemic is very likely. Even if we succeed in holding off the Spanish, a large part of the city's populace is sure to die before it is over."
"Can you hold the city?" she asked.
"Oh, yes."
She was a bit surprised by the quick and relaxed answer, and it must have shown. Frederik Henrik smiled.
"Trust me on this subject, Rebecca. If there is one thing the House of Orange knows, it is siegecraft. Amsterdam is a large city, and well fortified. So long as the populace and the garrison retain their will, the city can be held. For at least a year, probably longer." He frowned. "What we lost thus far was due to treachery on the part of the French, boldness on the part of the Spanish, bad luck, and-most of all-our own complacency. But the cardinal-infante has now used up that treasury, every coin in it. So now he will learn the cold facts of life.
"The first thing he's going to learn-has already, unless I miss my guess-is that his victories have outrun his supply train. That means he has one of two choices: plunder the countryside, which would immediately undo everything he has accomplished by his light-handed policies. Or, stop everything except investing Amsterdam, and thereby give me the time I need to organize the resistance in what is left of the United Provinces. While he twiddles his thumbs outside Amsterdam waiting for supplies, money, reinforcements-everything. By the time he can resume his advance…"
The prince's chest seemed to swell. "By then, I can and will have a sizeable force back in the field. Or, I should say, behind fortifications in northern Gelderland and Overijssel. The Spanish will be back to a grinding war of attrition-and this, after having paid a heavy price in blood and treasure for what they have gained already. Cardinal Richelieu used them as well as us, you know. By all accounts, it was the Spanish-not the French or the English-who paid the butcher's bill at Dunkirk."
"But you do not think the cardinal-infante will want to negotiate a settlement?"
"Not right away, no. Why should he? He's come this far on audacity and boldness, why should he stop? If he were Spinola, canny from decades of warfare, yes. But he is a young prince, Rebecca-and still undefeated. He will inevitably go for the final and most dramatic stroke, hoping thereby to end the thing entirely on Spanish terms."
"Take Amsterdam."
"Precisely. And I will use that audacity for my own ends. Draw him into a siege of Amsterdam, which will tie him up and give me the time I need to fortify what is left to me in the eastern provinces."
"How long can you maintain that situation?" she asked, frowning. "I am not a soldier, to be sure. But… with only Overijssel left and part of Gelderland… Spanish to the south, Danes to the north-the French everywhere, it seems-"
"Not everywhere, Rebecca." Frederik Hendrik cleared his throat. "As I recall, central Germany is still in the hands of the king of Sweden. Whom the French-and Danes-have now taken it upon themselves to attack also. With the Spanish-and English-having been so foolish as to sign their names to the enterprise."
"But-" She broke off.
The prince was smiling gently. "Yes, yes. I realize that, at the moment, things look rather bleak for Gustav Adolf also. But-unlike me-he has not already lost most of his realm. And-also unlike me-he has been fortunate enough, or wise enough, not to have his populace paralyzed by endless disputes over religious doctrine. Indeed, from what I can see, he seems to be increasingly drawn toward your American-style… what shall I call it? 'Arminianism Excelsior'?"
Rebecca laughed. "Hardly that, Frederik Hendrik! Arminianism is a religious doctrine itself. What the Americans preach-and practice-is something far simpler. 'The separation of church and state,' they call it. Worship whatever you will, however you will, and do so in peace. The state has no business in it-nor, on the other side, do the churches have any business meddling in state affairs."
The prince grunted. "A month ago-a week ago, even-I would have said you were mad. And I am considered-accused, as often as not-of being an Arminian myself. Now…"
For a moment, he studied the same painting he had studied the day before. "Odd, isn't it? The way your husband seems to force people to adopt his own practices in order to fight them. I've been getting continual reports, you know. The Dutch navy may be destroyed, but Dutch merchant vessels continue to ply their trade. It seems that Richelieu is setting up what he calls 'religious havens' in the northern towns and ports of France. Hoping, no doubt, to draw Protestant workmen there in order to build his own armaments industry. And now I hear that Earl Strafford has put a complete stop to any attempts to enforce strict religious adherence in England. Scotland too-even Ireland, if the reports are correct."
He turned back to her, smiling. "Of course, what else can he do? He-like every statesman in Europe now, probably even the Tsar of Russia-knows what history is supposed to bring. So, trying to stop it… ha!"
He slapped his hands on his knees. "That is my plan. In the long run, obviously, I am counting on Gustav Adolf to humble my enemies. In the short run, I can simply try to hold on to what I can-Amsterdam above all else. To be honest, Rebecca, I do not see what you and the United States can do for me in the short run. Throw your support behind the king of Sweden, of course, which I am sure you will be doing. I think you would be wise, therefore, to leave Amsterdam now. For the next few days, I am fairly confident I can get you safely back to Germany. But once the siege closes in, you will be trapped here for months."
Rebecca took a deep breath. "Well, actually, that is what I came here to tell you. I discussed this with my husband last night-no, you are right, we do not need great edifices for all forms of radio-and we are agreed." She took another deep breath. "I, and the entire delegation, will remain here in Amsterdam. If for no other reason, both Michael and I feel that will be a dramatic public gesture making clear that the United States stands firmly with the United Provinces and has confidence in your survival."
"As dramatic as possible," grunted the prince. "The wife of the President herself. But-" He winced. "Rebecca, the risk… if I did not make it clear yesterday, the siege is going to be terrible. Disease alone-"
"That," said Rebecca firmly, "is in fact the main reason I am staying. We cannot do much, obviously, to help you fight your Spanish enemies. Not directly, at any rate. But we can do something about the rest of it."
After she finished explaining the American proposal, Frederik Hendrik arose and went over to the painting. He studied it for a moment, his hands clasped behind his back, and then moved over to the next painting on the walls.