CHAPTER V
Battle of the Boyne—Death of Marshal Schomberg—Valor of Irish Cavalry—Inexcusable Flight of King James
TUESDAY morning, July 1, old style, dawned beautifully on the river Boyne. Both of the royal hosts were drawn out in all their bravery, and the early sun glittered on their burnished arms. We have no good account of their uniforms, but, judging by prints of the period, the British, in general, wore scarlet and the Continental allies blue. Some of the French regiments allied to the Irish army wore white and others blue coats, which were the favorite colors of the Bourbon kings. The Irish army must surely have worn scarlet—the livery of the House of Stuart—because, we are informed by George Story and other historians, they bore white badges in their hats, to distinguish themselves from the Williamites, who wore green boughs in theirs. The white cockade, or rosette, was the emblem of the Dukes of York—a title borne by James, as will be remembered, before his accession. The irony of fate, surely, was made manifest by the circumstance of William’s soldiers wearing Ireland’s national color, as now generally recognized, on the occasion of her most fateful, although not bloodiest, defeat.
At 6 o’clock A.M., William took the initiative by ordering above 10,000 horse and foot, under General Douglas, Schomberg, Jr., and Lords Portland and Overkirk, to march along the river bank toward Slane, cross at, or near, that point, and so turn the left flank of the Irish army. This manœuvre was plainly seen and understood by James and his lieutenants. Sir Neal O’Neill, at the head of his dragoons, was detached to check the movement. The brave leader was in time to charge the enemy’s cavalry, which had crossed nearer to Oldbridge than was originally designed, as they had found a practicable ford. The main body crossed higher up, at Slane. O’Neill, according to all accounts of the engagement on this flank of the Jacobite army, must have made a most gallant fight, because it was well on toward 9 o’clock before the enemy was able to secure a footing on the Irish bank of the Boyne, and then only after the brave O’Neill had been mortally wounded, and his surviving soldiers discouraged by his fall. Notwithstanding, the Irish dragoons drew off the field in excellent order, bearing their dying general along with them. With his latest breath, O’Neill sent word to King James of how matters stood on his left wing, to which Douglas’s whole imposing force had now formed itself perpendicularly, that is, at right angles, threatening not alone the left of the Irish line of battle, but also the rear, or line of retreat, on the pass of Duleek, which was the gateway to Dublin. James, observing this, became demoralized. Instead of using the French veterans at Oldbridge ford, where he must have seen the main attack was to be delivered, he placed in the hedges, and other defences which covered it, untried Irish levies, badly weaponed, brave enough, it is true, but at absolute disadvantage when placed in opposition to the splendid armament and perfect discipline of William’s veterans, many of whom had been in a score of pitched battles. Lauzun and his French were sent toward the Irish left, accompanied by Sarsfield, with a weak squadron of horse. But Douglas had formed his troops in such strong array that Lauzun, in spite of the direct orders of King James, declined to attack him, or receive his attack. Instead, he manœuvred so as to place a morass between his troops and the enemy, and then began falling back on the pass of Duleek, fearing to be outflanked and cut off by young Schomberg’s powerful cavalry. Sarsfield, according to his custom, charged the hostile horse boldly, but his men were too few, and he was reluctantly compelled to follow the retrograde movement of the French. In this operation he lost one cannon, which got stuck in the mud of a bog that intervened between the river and Donore. At the latter point he rejoined the king. James seemed to think only of his line of retreat. Had he thought of his line of advance, everything might still have been rectified. His army remained unshaken, except by his own wretched fears. The dread of being made a prisoner was his bane. He had sent most of the baggage and half the cannon toward Dublin at the first news of the reverse at Slane—a remarkable way by which to raise the spirits of an army already sadly conscious of the incompetency of its royal commander, and its own inferiority to the Williamite host in everything but ardent zeal and knightly courage.
William, on learning of the success of his right wing, immediately ordered Marshal Schomberg, at the head of the formidable Dutch guards, two regiments of Huguenots, two of Inniskilleners, Sir John Hammer’s regiment, and several others on that front, including the Danes, to ford the Boyne in hot haste. They plunged in bravely, opposite to Oldbridge, and so dense were their columns, according to Chaplain Story, that the water rose perceptibly. Still it could not have risen much above the knees of the shortest soldier, for the historian, Haverty—a scrupulous writer—says, in his admirable work, that the water did not reach to the drums of the bands that accompanied the attack. The unseasoned Irish dragoons and infantry, armed with old fusils and half-pikes, received the enemy with a hasty and ill-directed fire, which did little damage. William’s troops replied with overpowering volleys, and his batteries threw balls into the defences. It would seem that little was done at this point to rally the defenders, for they soon broke and abandoned the hedges, but formed again in the lanes of Oldbridge and the fields in its vicinity. The shout of triumph from Schomberg’s men was answered by a roar of anger that seemed to come from the battle-clouds above the river. There was a sound as of many waters, a terrific crashing of hoofs, a flashing of sabres, dying groans—Richard Hamilton, at the head of the superb Irish cavalry, was among the Williamite regiments, dealing death-strokes right and left. Even the Dutch Blues reeled before the shock—the Danes and Huguenots were broken and driven back across the stream. Old Duke Schomberg, in trying to restore order, was killed near the Irish side of the river, and there, too, fell Caillemotte, the Huguenot hero, and Bishop Walker, the defender of Derry. It was a splendid charge, and, had it been sustained by the whole Irish army, might have saved the day. But King James’s eyes were not turned toward Oldbridge ford, but to the pass of Duleek. Fresh bodies of hostile infantry continued to cross the stream, and were charged and driven back several times by the Irish horse. This part of the battle began about 10.15 o’clock and continued until nearly noon.
King William now took a hand in the fight, and crossed with most of his cavalry nearer to Drogheda. It is said that the tide had risen so high, he was obliged to swim his horse, which, also, got “bogged” on the Irish bank, and was extricated with difficulty. When the animal was freed, William remounted, and, although his shoulder was still stiff and sore from contact with the cannon-ball on the previous day, he drew his sword and placed himself at the head of such of his horse as had crossed with him. He also rallied some foot-soldiers who had been scattered by Hamilton’s furious charges. Nor were these yet over. Hardly had William placed his men in order, when Hamilton came down again, with a whirlwind rush, and Chaplain Story says, with great simplicity: “Our horse were forced to give ground, although the king was with them!” William, on recovering his breath, observed the Inniskillen regiment of cavalry at a short distance, rode up in front of them and said, in his blunt fashion: “What will you do for me?” They answered with a cheer, and rode to meet the Irish cavalry, who were again coming on at a fierce gallop, urged by Hamilton. The shock was terrible, but again the presence and the leadership of the warlike William proved unavailing, and the Inniskilleners, sadly cut up, followed the routed Williamite ruck down the hill toward the river. Cool in the moment of danger, William of Orange retired slowly and managed to rally some foot and horse to his assistance. By this time more of his cavalry had crossed, under Ruvigny and Ginkel. The former captured some colors, according to Story, but Ginkel’s force was routed and he, himself, did not conceal his vexation at their want of firmness. He kept in their rear, in order to prevent them from bolting at sight of the Irish horse.
King James was urged by all of those about him who had regard for his honor, including the brave General Sheldon and the ever gallant Sarsfield, to place himself at the head of his reserve of cavalry and charge full upon William as he ascended toward Donore. The unfortunate man, more of a moral than a physical coward, seemed unable to collect his faculties; and, instead of doing what became him, yielded to the advice of the timid, and, even while the battle raged hotly below him, turned his horse, and, accompanied by his disgusted officers and astonished troopers, rode toward the pass of Duleek, held by the French and some of the Irish, who repulsed every effort of General Douglas to force it. Hamilton’s cavalry still continued to charge the Williamite advance, and thus enabled the Irish infantry to retire slowly on Donore, where the bold Duke of Berwick rallied them and presented an unbroken front to King William. Then, in turn, they retired toward Duleek. Hamilton made a final furious charge, in which his horse was killed and fell upon him. He was also wounded in the head and made prisoner. He was taken before William, who said: “Well, sir, is this business over with, or will your horse show more fight?” Hamilton responded: “Upon my honor, sir, I think they will.” The king, who was incensed against the general for having sided with James and Tyrconnel against himself, looked askance at the gallant prisoner and muttered: “Your honor! Your honor!” And this was all that passed between them.
Chaplain Story, from whose book we have taken many of our facts, was a most graphic and interesting writer, but a sad hater of the Irish, against whom he seems to have borne a grudge, perhaps because they killed his brother, an English officer, in action. He never said a good word for them if he could avoid doing so. Yet, in spite of this failing, the truth would escape him occasionally. Many English writers leave the impression that the Irish army was defeated at the Boyne within an hour or so after the engagement began. We have seen that the first movement was made about daylight, and that the battle near Slane opened about 8 o’clock. In front of Oldbridge the attack was made at 10:15, and continued hotly until nearly noon, when King William himself took command, crossed the river with his left wing and was bravely checked by Hamilton. Duleek is not more than three miles from the fords of Oldbridge. Therefore, the Irish must have fought very obstinately when Chaplain Story makes the following admission on page 23 of his “Continuation of the Wars of Ireland”: “Our army then pressed hard upon them, but meeting with a great many difficulties in the ground, and being obliged to pursue in order, our horse had only the opportunity of cutting down some of their foot, and most of the rest got over the pass at Duleek; then night coming on[[3]] prevented us from making so entire a victory of it as could have been wished for.” Thus, on the testimony of this Williamite partisan and eye-witness, the battle of the Boyne, counting from its inception to its close, lasted about fifteen hours. Evidently the overpowered Irish army did not retreat very fast.
[3]. In Ireland, at that season, there is a strong twilight until nearly 9 o’clock.—Author.
We have already mentioned the principal men who fell on the Williamite side. On the Jacobite side there fell Lords Dungan and Carlingford, Sir Neal O’Neill and some other officers of note, together with some 1,200 rank and file killed or wounded. Few prisoners were taken. Mr. Story, as usual, underestimates William’s loss, when he places it at “nigh four hundred.” More candid English estimates place it at nearer a thousand, and this was, probably, the true figure. The Chaplain, in dwelling on the casualties, says plaintively: “The loss of Duke Schomberg, who was killed soon after the first of our forces passed the river near Oldbridge, was much more considerable than all that fell that day on both sides.”
Drogheda, occupied by an Irish garrison of 1,500 men, surrendered, on summons, the day after the battle. Had their commander made a spirited sortie on William’s left wing, as it was crossing the river, good might have resulted for the cause of James. It would seem that, like himself, many of his officers lacked the daring enterprise that can alone win the smiles of Bellona.
King James, shamefully for himself, deserted the battlefield, or, rather, the outer edge of it, before the fight at the fords was over. An Irish Protestant poet, the late Dr. W. R. Wilde, of Dublin, says of the incident:
“But where is James? What! urged to fly,
Ere quailed his brave defenders!
Their dead in Oldbridge crowded lie,
But not a sword surrenders!”
He reached Dublin at 9 o’clock that evening, while still the Irish army exchanged shots with William’s troops across the Nannywater at the pass of Duleek! Tradition says that, meeting Lady Tyrconnel at the Castle, he exclaimed: “Your countrymen run well, madam!” The spirited Irishwoman at once replied: “I congratulate your Majesty on having won the race!”
English historians, in general, taking their cue from Story, are ungenerous to the Irish in connection with the Boyne. English troops had comparatively little hand in obtaining the victory. The French writers, also, in order to screen the misconduct, and possibly treason, of De Lauzun, seek to throw all the blame for the loss of the battle on their Irish allies. Not so, many of the Irish Protestant writers, whose coreligionists bore a great deal of the brunt of the fighting on William’s side, and were thus enabled to know the truth. Among those writers may be mentioned Colonel William Blacker, poet-laureate of the Orange Order in Ireland, who wrote at the beginning of the last century, and, in his poem, “The Battle of the Boyne,” gives full credit to his Catholic fellow-countrymen for their valor, thus:
“In vain the sword Green Erin draws and life away doth fling—
Oh! worthy of a better cause and of a braver king!
In vain thy bearing bold is shown upon that blood-stained ground;
Thy towering hopes are overthrown—thy choicest fall around.
“Hurrah! hurrah! the victor shout is heard on high Donore!
Down Plottin’s Vale, in hurried rout, thy shattered masses pour.
But many a gallant spirit there retreats across the plain,
Who ‘change but kings’ would gladly dare that battlefield again!”
The expression, in regard to exchanging monarchs, alluded to in the ballad, is founded on a saying attributed to Sarsfield, who, on being taunted by a British officer at the Duleek outposts the night of the engagement, exclaimed: “Change kings with us, and we will fight the battle over again with you!”
James, after his defeat, remained but one day in Dublin. He summoned the State Council and the Lord Mayor, bade them farewell, and left the government of the kingdom and the command of the army in the hands of Tyrconnel. Then, accompanied by a small staff, he rode to Bray and thence by easy stages to Waterford, where he embarked for France and reached that kingdom in safety. He was generously received by King Louis. In justice to a monarch who is alleged to have spoken harshly and unjustly of his Irish troops and subjects after the battle of the Boyne, we must state that his published Memoirs, as also those of his son, the heroic Duke of Berwick, bear the very highest testimony to the bravery and devotion of the Irish army, particularly in dealing with the closing campaign in Ireland, when it crowned itself with glory. Remembering this, we may join with the poet in saying—
“Well, honored be the graves that close
O’er every brave and true heart,
And sorrows sanctified repose
Thy dust, discrownèd Stuart!”