Early in June a bribe induced one of De Witt’s clerks to betray the secret to Count William Frederick.  The news soon spread, and loud was the outcry of the Orange partisans and of the two princesses, who at once addressed a remonstrance to the States-General.  All the other provinces strongly protested against the action of the Estates of Holland and of the council-pensionary.  De Witt attempted to defend himself and the Estates, by vague statements, avoiding the main issue, but insisting that nothing illegal had been done.  His efforts were in vain.  On June 6 the States-General passed a resolution that the envoys in England should be ordered to send back at once all the secret instructions they had received from Holland, and the Act of Exclusion.  Meanwhile the Estates of Holland themselves, frightened at the clamour which had been aroused, began to show signs of defection.  They went so far as to pass a vote of thanks to the envoys for not having delivered the Act to Cromwell.  De Witt’s position appeared hopeless.  He extricated himself and outwitted his opponents by the sheer audacity and cleverness of the steps that he took.  His efforts to prevent the resolution of the States-General from taking immediate effect proving unavailing, he put forward the suggestion that on account of its importance the despatch should be sent to the envoys in cipher.  This was agreed to, and on June 7 the document was duly forwarded to London by the council-pensionary; but he enclosed a letter from himself to Van Beverningh and Nieuwpoort informing them that the Estates of Holland assented to the request made by the States-General, and that they were to send back the secret correspondence and also the Act, if it were still undelivered.  The result answered to his expectations.  While the clerk was laboriously deciphering the despatch, the envoys read between the lines of De Witt’s letter, and without a moment’s delay went to Whitehall and placed the Act in Cromwell’s hands.  The States-General had thus no alternative between acceptance of the fait accompli and the risk of a renewal of the war.  No further action was taken, and the Protector professed himself satisfied with a guarantee of such doubtful validity.

It is impossible to withhold admiration from De Witt’s marvellous diplomatic dexterity, and from the skill and courage with which he achieved his end in the face of obstacles and difficulties that seemed insurmountable; but for the course of double-dealing and chicanery by which he triumphed, the only defence that can be offered is that the council-pensionary really believed that peace was an absolute necessity for his country, and that peace could only be maintained at the cost of the Act of Exclusion.  Whether or no Cromwell would have renewed the war, had the Act been withdrawn, it is impossible to say.  There is, however, every reason to believe that De Witt was prompted to take the risks he did by purely patriotic motives, and not through spite against the house of Orange.  Be this as it may, the part that he now played was bitterly resented, not merely by the Orange partisans, but by popular opinion generally in the United Provinces, and it was never forgiven.