preparations were on a vast scale. The emperor undertook to
place 90,000 men in the field; England, 40,000; the German states,
54,000; and the Republic no less than 100,000. William had
succeeded at last in the object of his life; a mighty confederation
had been called into being to maintain the balance of power in
Europe, and overthrow the threatened French domination. This
confederation in arms, of which he was the soul and the acknowledged
head, was destined to accomplish the object for which it was formed,
but not under his leadership. The king had spent the autumn in
Holland in close consultation with Heinsius, visiting the camps, the
arsenals and the dockyards, and giving instructions to the admirals
and generals to have everything in readiness for the campaign of
the following spring. Then in November he went to England to
hurry on the preparations, which were in a more backward condition
than in the States. But he had overtaxed his strength. Always
frail and ailing, William had for years by sheer force of will-power
conquered his bodily weakness and endured the fatigue of campaigns
in which he was content to share all hardships with his
soldiers. In his double capacity, too, of king and stadholder, the
cares of government and the conduct of foreign affairs had left him
no rest. Especially had this been the case in England during the
years which had followed Queen Mary's death, when he found
himself opposed and thwarted and humiliated by party intrigues
and cabals, to such an extent that he more than once thought of
abdicating. He was feeling very ill and tired when he returned, and
he grew weaker, for the winter in England always tried him. His
medical advisers warned him that his case was one for which
medicine was of no avail, and that he was not fit to bear the strain
of the work he was doing. But the indomitable spirit of the man
would not give way, and he still hoped with the spring to be able
to put himself at the head of his army. It was not to be; an accident
was the immediate cause by which the end came quickly. He was
riding in Bushey Park when his horse stumbled over a mole-hill
and the king was thrown, breaking his collar-bone (March 14,1702).
The shock proved fatal in his enfeebled state; and, after lingering
for four days, during which, in full possession of his mental faculties,
he continued to discuss affairs of state, he calmly took leave of his
special friends, Bentinck, Earl of Portland and Ke