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Hello all. Below is a rehashing of my first TL. It will center around James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, and the effect of a few different decisions on his part.

I will rely upon Macualay's History of England, and another 19th century work called The Life of the Duke of Monmouth by George Roberts. I also have drawn inspiration from Neal Stephenson's Baroque Cycle, which may be apparent in some of my characterizations.

Eventually I would like to move in the direction of mixing live action (Third person omniscient) narration with a few ATL 19th century sources, like some of the best TLs on the site I have read.

I welcome all comments, corrections, and criticism.

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February 21, 1685. The Hague, Republic of the United Netherlands


James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, natural son of Charles II of England, Scotland and Ireland, had recovered quickly from the news of his father’s death. He had learnt of the event the night before from his cousin William III, Prince of Orange, and had been overwhelmed by grief. In an instant James had lost not only his father, but also all prospects of returning home to his property and titles. He had wept bitterly that night, lamenting fate and his unfortunate position. By the next morning however, when the Prince of Orange invited him to the Binnenhof, he was composed and ready to discuss business.

The Prince and the Duke exchanged pleasantries. The Prince was his usual stern self, and spoke without much change in his demeanor; indeed he scarcely showed any emotion at all during the best of times. Now, he was, if possible even more grave than usual when he spoke to James. With the death of Charles II and the ascension of James II, Monmouth could no longer stay in The Hague.

“Our Uncle [James II],” said the Prince of Orange, “regards you as a fugitive. He views your refusal to offer testimony against those who plotted to overthrow the lawful government of England to be evidence of your complicity in their scheme. Now I agree with you that you uncle has taken things out of proportion. After all, it is not conceivable that you would have been party to a plot to assassinate your own dear father? Nevertheless, as our uncle is now King of England, his opinion carries with it great weight. I cannot be seen as harboring a fugitive from his justice. That means that you are going to have to leave The Hague very soon. For though I would never protect a fugitive from my father-in-law’s justice, I cannot very well turn over a person I cannot locate, can I?”

James took this announcement passively. In so many words the Prince was banishing him from his sight, while only hinting at his true feelings on the matter. James had a disquieting feeling while watching the Prince that he could maintain the same even tone of voice and dispassionate gaze ordering him to the scaffold, or bestowing a kingdom on him for that matter. The man was a cold fish!

“Now that we have that out of the way,” continued the Prince, “We must consider your next course of action. Of course you would never even consider launching a rebellion against our uncle from my territory. Because you are going to leave the Netherlands forthwith, and not sully yourself with those odious exiles and plotters who have taken refuge in my lands. Now, what options are you now left with? You can no longer skate in the canals and dance at balls waiting for a pardon to come any day from your generous father. Instead you should consider the best application of your, shall we say, professional talents.”

What talents James possessed outside of the bedroom and the ballroom were almost exclusively to be found on the field of battle. Though he had proven to be a second-rate conspirator, he had left England with a reputation as one of that nation’s finest soldiers. Since the age of fourteen he had held the some of the highest commands in the kingdom. He had been in command of the English deployment at the Siege of Maastricht. He had fought the great Duc de Luxembourg to a draw at St. Denis. In every battle he had fought he had been noted for his courage under fire and fierce resolution.

“Now James, think, where in Christendom are you most needed outside of England? I believe the answer is Austria, which even now is fighting to drive the infidel Turks from their lands. Think of it. Even after his defeat at Vienna the Grand Turk can still field hundreds of thousands of Mohammedans and slave soldiers. He poses a threat to all of Europe. All the nations of Europe are united in opposing him save the allegedly Christian King of France, who arms the Turks and their Hungarian confederates. Bavarians, Bohemians, Poles, Prussians and Saxons, they all fight under the banner of the Cross against the Turk.

The Archduke of Austria and Holy Roman Emperor Leopold seeks the services of all Christians in his fight. He would welcome a renowned warrior such as yourself in his ranks, and you would join thousands of English and Scottish soldiers who have already enlisted in his service. James Scott, I believe you should take up the cross and join the fight against the infidel in the east.”

Monmouth listened to this advice attentively, though without any obvious enthusiasm. “Thank you for your advice, my Lord cousin. I will take all that you have said into consideration as I prepare to depart your fair lands. In the meantime I promise to take no action against my dear uncle. I would never dream of endangering the foreign relations of the Republic, my home away from home, by preparing a rebellion against my uncle in this country,” said Monmouth. Neither man took his words very seriously, though William would be sure to convey them to James II in London in order to maintain appearances, and to insulate himself in the event that James was lying.


The Prince of Orange responded by wishing him well, and promising to earnestly recommend him to the Emperor. He also promised the Duke a gift to defray his expenses when he departed The Hague.

After the Duke left William’s presence he soon returned to his quarters to contemplate his future. On the one hand he had to consider the daily entries of the English exiles, led by the conspiring Scot Robert Ferguson, to join their cause and raise a rebellion against his uncle. They had been pressing him to join them for months, but he had rebuffed them, confident that his father would eventually grant him a full pardon. Now that Charles II was dead, their counsel seemed more appealing. His other options were to go east to Vienna and enlist in the Emperor’s forces against the Turks. Alternatively, he could abandon his pursuit of fortune and glory and resign himself to a life of leisure. He could tour Europe with his beloved mistress Lady Wentworth, starting with a voyage to Stockholm.

As he weighed his options, the Lady Wentworth returned to their quarters. Henrietta Wentworth was his current mistress, the love of his life, and, in his eyes his lawful wife in the sight of God. The Lady had sacrificed a good marriage to abscond with the married Duke, and James had rewarded her with his complete affection, going so far as to almost completely disregard his own wife and their five children. Lady Wentworth had his entire heart, and as a result was a great influence on the mercurial Duke.

When the conversation turned to the Duke’s next course of action, Henrietta at first demurred. But a chance run-in with the Austrian Legate to Holland earlier that day had planted an image in her mind of the sophistication and the wealth of the Austrian Hapsburgs.* The Freiherr, with his twirling mustachios and jeweled small sword had cut a very fine figure. He had regaled the ladies of the court in perfect French with tales of the opulent castles and the fine operas that could be enjoyed in and around Vienna. And wealth! Apparently the Turkish armies traveled around with camels loaded with gold and spices, which they abandoned whenever they lost a battle, which they had done very often of late.

The urbane, witty Austrian stood in sharp contrast to the nearby group of English exiles, poorly dressed, conversing furtively of lost homes and estates. And that just described the exiled men of quality. More disturbing were the republicans in their midst, a collection of Protestant fanatics and former Cromwellian soldiers like the one eyed Richard "Hannibal" Rumbold who prowled around with the restless energy of a caged beast.

If Vienna was well represented by the Freiherr, then perhaps Austria was not the war-torn backwater she had always imagined it to be. After all, the Archduke of Austria was Holy Roman Emperor, a king of kings like the great Caesar. And like the Roman Emperor, the Holy Roman Emperor’s domains were vast. She remembered from her tutor that his domains stretched from the border of France to Poland. Surely the capital of such a vast empire was a prosperous place. Who knew how long she would have to scurry about the Netherlands with the exiles before returning to England? The late King had spent almost ten years in exile before the opportunity to return home presented himself. Austria sounded like a fantastic place where dreams and fortunes might be realized.

Therefore, when the Duke continued to question her about her advice for him, she answered, “My love, I suppose that your cousin, Prince William is correct. Austria is surely the best destination for us at this time. Who know what you would have to do to return to England, and what kind of a reception would await us there? We would have a fine time in Austria. And if you must fight, you may as well do so in the name of our Savior against the Mohammedans.”

At this reply James was speechless. He had always believed that nothing would please his love more than seeing the crown of England on his head. He had been incorrect. Did his lady really want to see Austria, and be the mistress of a great crusader? Or did even his mistress perceive that his plan to take the throne of England was rash?

The Lady’s doubt about the wisdom of returning to England caused the Duke to go over in his mind the advice of his fellow exiles in the Netherlands. The lofty rhetoric of that fiery Scot Ferguson, the optimistic predictions of Lord Grey and the stern confidence of Hannibal Rumbold all counseled him land in England as soon as possible, and to march on London to depose the new Popish King. Both the Lords of the Land and the common man were opposed to the new Catholic monarch; surely they would flock to the banner of the late King’s most prominent son.

There was of course the issue of his birth, but the Duke had always believed that his mother, Lucy Walter had entered into a lawful marriage with the King by the time of his birth. She had told him so from the earliest days of his childhood, and sworn it on her deathbed. His confederates were not too disposed to doubt him. Base rumors about his legitimacy would of course end the moment he set foot in St. Paul’s Cathedral to be crowned the rightful King. William I had been William le Bâtard before he had vindicated his right to the throne on the field of battle!

But between the Duke and the crown were formidable political and military obstacles that were quite apparent to James. Monmouth had personally commanded professional English soldiers against foes foreign and domestic He had a keen understanding of how battles were fought and wars were won on the Continent. But it was his most recent command that was the most pertinent in his mind at this critical juncture: the Battle of Bothswell Bridge in Scotland. Heavily outnumbered, and facing an enthusiastic foe of Scottish Covenanters revolting against the Episcopal policies of his father, Monmouth had been able to easily put the rebels to flight and crush their nascent rebellion. James had no wish to be on the wrong side in a contest between the rabble and the professional line infantry fielded by the crown.

The project suggested to him by his fellow English and Scottish exiles left him in great danger of doing just that. Letters were all they could show him as proof of his popular support in England, and how the people despised James II. Gold, arms and men were sorely lacking. The only men whose support he could rely upon were a few dozen English and Scottish malcontents armed with nothing more formidable than a few thousand pounds sterling and their quill pens. It was true that among these few dozen men were some renowned Cromwellian soldiers, successful generals and Lords temporal from both England and Scotland.

But James II, sitting at the Court of St. James could call on regiments of trained infantry and cavalrymen. His kingdoms were protected by formidable fleet of frigates and ships-of-the-line. He could likely rely upon the aid of the King of France as well. Against these forces James Scott would have to rely upon his ability to inspire a popular revolt against his uncle. To land in England would be to stake his life on the fickle English masses.

His life would necessarily depend on the masses because there was simply no possibility that a sufficient force could be raised in the Netherlands to wage war in England. They lacked men, the muskets to arm them with, the ships to transport them in and the money to pay for them. James Scott and the exiles would land with no more than a few cannons and horses, along with whatever supply of muskets and gunpowder they could scrape together. They would depend upon a strong turnout of volunteers, and liberal donations of gold and arms.

Even if their hope for a popular rising materialized, it still might not be enough to ensure their success. Without a defection of at least some of the king’s regiments, Monmouth doubted they had a snowball’s chance in hell. The King could muster six trained regiments of foot and six regiments of horse. Each trained soldier was worth ten, if not twenty militia or volunteers in Monmouth’s eyes. Monmouth had little faith that any number of English peasants could stand against a disciplined line of infantry trained to fire two to three volleys of lead a minute on a field of battle.

The aid of the Scottish exiles did not much improve the plan in Monmouth’s eyes. Archibald Campbell, Earl of Argyle had a plan for bringing down James II. That plan involved a landing in Scotland on his own. Where he was to land, and what he was to do once he landed were details he was unwilling to divulge to James Scott, or anyone else it seemed. Any attempt to discuss strategy with him was either met by stony silence, or flashes of anger. James could not decide whether or not the Earl even had a plan, or if he just did not trust him. Neither possibility boded well for the success of an enterprise that would depend on their mutual cooperation.

The more James thought of the exiles’ plans, the less he thought of them. He was willing to risk his life in battle, but that did not mean that he was interested in throwing it away. If he failed he would gain nothing more than a reputation just another would-be bastard usurper. If he was going to fall in battle it should be for a cause that would ensure his eternal glory, not brand him with ignominy.

“Henrietta, my darling,” said Monmouth as he came to a decision, “I believe you are absolutely correct. The time is not yet right for us to return to England. I will win further victories in your name my lady, but in the east…for now.”



February 22, 1685. The Hague, Republic of the United Netherlands


The next morning the Duke met with Prince William III for last time before leaving The Hague. He earnestly informed his cousin that he accepted his advice, and that he wished to make for Vienna with all possible haste. Prince William III had expected such a response from the Duke, even if the Duke did not mean a word of it. He was surprised, however by the Duke’s seeming enthusiasm for the enterprise, and wished him well. When the Duke left his presence he was handed a fat purse of a thousand guilders to speed him on his way. He met briefly with his cousin Mary on the way out, she seemed rather upset by his decision, and tears sprinkled down her cheeks as he exited the palace. William did not take note of this; he was already preoccupied with his own thoughts.

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The Prince of Orange smiled as the Duke exited his chambers. It was rare for William to smile, but this had been a successful morning. If Monmouth was true to his word, then the Prince had disposed of a potential irritant quite cheaply. William had little interest in Monmouth rebelling against his uncle. Certainly the prospect of a Protestant-ruled England allied with the Netherlands would be quite welcome, but the risk of backing Monmouth was simply too great. Anything less than a complete Monmouth victory would incur the enmity of James II towards the Netherlands, and push him away from the grand alliance William was organizing against France. William was not willing to gamble on Monmouth when a loss would endanger his ambition of stopping French hegemony over Europe.

If he could not aid Monmouth’s enterprise, he preferred not risk thwarting it either. William planned on becoming King of England one day, and it would be a severe blot on his reputation if he were to arrest the “Protestant Duke” and turn him over to his uncle, and possible execution. Rounding up and arresting the other exiles would have a similar effect. That left William in a very frustrating position: he could only attempt to influence Monmouth, and would be forced to react to his decision. Fortunately William had been able to maneuver Monmouth into taking the course of action least troublesome to him, as he had intended all along. If his ally Emperor Leopold benefitted from that course of action, so much the better!

With luck, William thought, he could pry James out of Louis XIV’s orbit and into the emerging alliance against French expansionism. After all, the Pope and the Holy Roman Emperor were opposed to the Sun King and allies of William. The new King’s Catholicism did preclude an alliance with the Protestant Netherlands. Besides, in addition to good foreign policy, an alliance against France would be popular with the English people, and if the new King had an ounce of sense he would go to great lengths to dispel his subject’s belief that he was an agent of France and Popery.

And if James II did not do exactly that, William would take his throne. He was third in line of succession in his own right, but would de facto inherit it when the King died, as his wife Mary was the next in line to the throne. His wife believed it was her Christian duty to obey her husband, she would scarcely attempt to rule independently of him!

In addition to the prerequisite legitimate blood, he also had at his disposal a well trained army and probably the most powerful navy on earth to support his claim to the English Throne. He had cultivated relationships with some of the most prominent personages in England, and was known throughout the land as a champion of Protestantism. If James II stood in the way of his destiny of defeating Louis XIV, he would take his kingdom, and if necessary his life.

With that thought, William called for his trusty page Arnold van Keppel.

“Arnold dear boy, inform my royal father-in-law of Monmouth’s departure from The Hague. Assure him that his nephew will depart my country to the court of Emperor Leopold. Remind him that his English and Scottish regiments will always be at his service in the event of any problems, foreign or domestic. And do not forget to congratulate him on his upcoming coronation.”

As he watched his handsome page take down notes to compose a letter from his Prince, William smiled. Not at the sight of his servant’s natural beauty, but rather at how utterly predictable were the members of the House of Stuart, and how easily he would get them to dance to his tune, or knock them off the stage. The choice was theirs, but the outcome would be exactly as he wanted.

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James Scott smiled as he departed the Binnenhof. The purse he indiscreetly carried with him would ensure a comfortable journey east for him and his entourage. He would fight Turks in the east and earn himself a reputation of a crusader. But the war would not last forever, and he fully intended his journey east to only defer his eventual return home. In the meantime James II was welcome to contend with the exiles and unrest in the three kingdoms. The last English Catholic monarch had been Mary I over a century ago, and everyone remembered how successful that had been! Eventually he would alienate the wrong men, and face a full blown rebellion like his father before him. The Prince of Orange doubtless believed that the Kingdom would then just fall to him like an overripe fruit.

“William, dear cousin, you are deceived if you think you have rid yourself of me for all times with this purse,” thought Monmouth to himself. “I may fall in battle against the infidel, but as long as I survive I will never forget my birthright. And you will not take it from me.”



March 3, 1685. Amsterdam, Republic of the United Netherlands

None of the exiles had taken James announcement very well. They attempted to dissuade him from his new course with protestations of their loyalty to him, optimistic predictions about victory being easily within his grasp, and hints that his unwillingness to join them was due to some deficiency in his character. None dared to speak the word “coward,” not even Ferguson, who was always quite bold with his words. But they had implied it as much as they dared without coming out and saying it. Apparently none of them wished to risk having to defend themselves with their foppish small swords.

Archibald Campbell, Earl of Argyle had no such reservation. The man had a basket-hilted claymore at his side when he was about. No gentlemen would leave his home unarmed, but for many their sword was as much a fashion accessory as a deadly weapon. Wearing a less stylish weapon was as statement that the carrier was more concerned with his sword as the later. And claymores were not much in style outside of the Scottish Highlands. A man confident of his swordsmanship could be more free with his words in the presence of other armed men.

“So you have revealed yourself as a coward at last,” said Argyle when James had finished his announcement. “Just like your fop of a father. All brave talk until it comes to actually risking the shedding of your own blood. The Earl of Montrose was as loyal to your father as a dog; he suffered him to lose his head when he proved unsuccessful in order to ally with my father! I fought for Charles at Worcester against the Parliamentarians, and when the battle went south your father ran like a woman. I see the apple has not fallen far from the tree. I will not shed my blood and the blood of my kinsmen for a bastard who is unwilling to willing to…”

Argyle would have continued, but Monmouth interrupted him by starting to draw his rapier. As the blade was over three feet long this motion took a few seconds to complete, which was enough time for Argyle to notice, and flip over the nearest table in his direction. This distracted James long enough for Argyle to draw his claymore by the time James had his rapier in hand. As the two men glared at each other and threateningly, one of the Scots, Andrew Fletcher, stepped between them.

“Enough! The Duke has made it clear that he does not wish to participate in our enterprise. The Earl has assented to his decision. This meeting can adjourn; let us depart to our own quarters. I need not remind anyone that dueling is punishable by death within the city limits.” Fletcher spoke with enough resolution to give both men pause. They lowered, but did not sheath their swords as they walked towards exits at the opposite ends of the room. The atmosphere lightened as they were crowded around by their respective entourages.

James fumed as he walked out of the alehouse and stepped out onto the streets of Amsterdam. He had no doubt in his ability to gut that arrogant Scot. He had been trained by the French King’s own fencing instructor, and it would give him great pleasure to spill Argyle’s guts. The only reason he did not demand satisfaction from that accursed Scot and do just that was that slaying the chief of Clan Campbell, and a peer of Scotland would cause him too many problems down the road. Argyle could wait.

“To Hell with Argyle,” said James as he walked back to the apartments he was living in during his stay in Amsterdam. “I’ll be in Austria soon enough. When I am crowned King of England I’ll have him beheaded on the Scottish Maiden, just like his father before him!”


April 2, 1685. Amsterdam, Republic of the United Netherlands.


James Scott gazed at the busy harbor of Amsterdam from the quarterdeck of the brig he had embarked upon. Dozens of square rigged Fluyts and East Indiamen crossed the harbor, waiting to sail for the east, or to returning home laden with spices. By his side was his lady Henrietta, who looked back at the city distractedly, doubtless wondering when she might return.

James and about a dozen of his followers were sailing for Cuxhaven. They would disembark at that city briefly before boarding another ship that would taken them down the Elbe to Dresden. From Dresden they would ride to Pressburg where they would join the Imperial Army under the Duke of Lorraine. Henrietta would remain at Court, while James would take a command befitting his station. If all went according to plan he would be in the Duke of Lorraine’s camp by May to join the spring campaign.

As he looked out over the harbor, James considered his actions over the past few weeks. He had met with a few of the English exiles in an attempt to smooth things over with them before his departure. He could have need of their services in the future. Aside from some die-hards, it seemed that most of them were resigned to remaining in exile in the Netherlands since they lacked a credible figurehead to lead their efforts. But those who had not given up appeared to have thrown in their lot with Argyle.

He had not run into Argyle again since their last meeting, but he had heard about what he was up to. The Earl had already purchased a frigate, and James had heard rumors that he was buying up muskets and gunpowder from anyone who would sell to him. True to his word, the Earl appeared set on landing in Scotland with his followers, and opposing his enemy James II. The Earl was a fool. The power of the clans was in the past, in the modern world power lay in holding cities and trade routes, in regiments of foot, not septs! Good riddance to him and all the fools who chose to follow him!

The three kingdoms would be his. They would not long remain under the rule of his Papist uncle. Neither his two daughters, nor their Dutch and Danish husbands would have them either. If he returned to his homeland, it would be at the head of a devoted band of followers, well armed and well supplied, not a quarrelsome band of conspirators!

“To Hell with them all,” said James to no one in particular. “After I have sent enough Turks to hell they will come crawling back to me. The three kingdoms will welcome me with open arms when they have had enough of my uncle’s misrule. And none of his foreign son in laws will stop me.”

To be continued.


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*This is the POD. Macaulay records that the Duke was very uncertain about joining the exiles, but it was the desire of his mistress to see him wearing the crown of England that proved decisive. ITTL, a chance run-in has caused her to offer different advice.
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