There was no reason whatever why the now successful and mature soldier, to whom the country was under such vast obligations, should not aspire to the sovereignty.  The Provinces had not pledged themselves to republicanism, but rather to monarchy, and the crown, although secretly coveted by Henry IV., could by no possibility now be conferred on any other man than Maurice.  It was no impeachment on his character that he should nourish thoughts in which there was nothing criminal.

But the peace negotiations had opened a chasm.  It was obvious enough that Barneveld having now so long exercised great powers, and become as it were the chief magistrate of an important commonwealth, would not be so friendly as formerly to its conversion into a monarchy and to the elevation of the great soldier to its throne.  The Advocate had even been sounded, cautiously and secretly, so men believed, by the Princess-Dowager, Louise de Coligny, widow of William the silent, as to the feasibility of procuring the sovereignty for Maurice.  She had done this at the instigation of Maurice, who had expressed his belief that the favourable influence of the Advocate would make success certain and who had represented to her that, as he was himself resolved never to marry, the inheritance after his death would fall to her son Frederick Henry.  The Princess, who was of a most amiable disposition, adored her son.  Devoted to the House of Nassau and a great admirer of its chief, she had a long interview with Barneveld, in which she urged the scheme upon his attention without in any probability revealing that she had come to him at the solicitation of Maurice.

The Advocate spoke to her with frankness and out of the depths of his heart.  He professed an ardent attachment to her family, a profound reverence for the virtues, sacrifices, and achievements of her lamented husband, and a warm desire to do everything to further the interests of the son who had proved himself so worthy of his parentage.

But he proved to her that Maurice, in seeking the sovereignty, was seeking his ruin.  The Hollanders, he said, liked to be persuaded and not forced.  Having triumphantly shaken off the yoke of a powerful king, they would scarcely consent now to accept the rule of any personal sovereign.  The desire to save themselves from the claws of Spain had led them formerly to offer the dominion over them to various potentates.  Now that they had achieved peace and independence and were delivered from the fears of Spanish ferocity and French intrigue, they shuddered at the dangers from royal hands out of which they had at last escaped.  He believed that they would be capable of tearing in pieces any one who might make the desired proposition.  After all, he urged, Maurice was a hundred times more fortunate as he was than if he should succeed in desires so opposed to his own good.  This splendour of sovereignty was a false glare which would lead him to a precipice.  He had now the power of a sovereign without the envy which ever followed it.  Having essentially such power, he ought, like his father, to despise an empty name, which would only make him hated.  For it was well known that William the Silent had only yielded to much solicitation, agreeing to accept that which then seemed desirable for the country’s good but to him was more than indifferent.