Ireland under the Stuarts and During the Interregnum, Vol. 3 (of 3), 1660-1690

by Richard Bagwell

FOOTNOTES:

[239] Schomberg’s letters to William, calendared in State Papers, Domestic, July 21 to August 3. Journal in Kazner’s Schomberg, ii. 282. Hamilton to Melville in Leven and Melville Papers, August 1, 1689.

[240] Journal in Kazner’s Schomberg. Story’s Impartial History. Avaux to Louvois, September 10/20. Schomberg to King William, August 16, State Papers, Domestic. Dean’s information is in Clarke’s Life of James, Original Mem., ii. 374. Berwick’s Memoirs. Contemporary letter in Benn’s History of Belfast, p. 171.

[241] Story’s Impartial History, pp. 7-10. Schomberg to King William, August 27, State Papers, Domestic. Light to the Blind. The articles of capitulation are in Story’s Continuation and in McSkimmin’s History of Carrickfergus, part i. Letter printed in Benn’s History of Belfast, p. 171. Nihill’s Journal in Macpherson’s Original Papers, i. 222. Letter of September 2 in Le Fleming Papers.

[242] Story’s Impartial History, pp. 10-16, 38—‘A regiment of Dutch were so well hutted that not above eleven of them died the whole campaign.’ Schomberg letters of September 20 and 21 and January 9, 1689-90, in State Papers, Domestic, and Dalrymple. He says the English were ‘si delicatement élevés,’ that in all countries he had seen them die off at the beginning of a campaign. Early in the journal, in Kazner appx. no. 85, it is said that the English nation ‘veut assez être conduite à son sens et n’aime que peu la subordination quoiqu’au reste très belliqueuse,’ and under September 9 the writer says the English soldiers liked no law but ‘leurs fantaisies.’ Writing on October 8, 1689, Schomberg says his levies were as raw as those of King James, but the latter twice as numerous, Leven and Melville Papers. General Douglas’s opinion of the English soldiers is in Evelyn’s Diary, February 19, 1689-90: they were very brave and very badly treated. Dumont de Bostaquet, whose Mémoires inédits were published in 1864, was with Schomberg in September 1689, and describes the Enniskilleners as very good troops, but ‘trop picoreurs.’

[243] Story’s Impartial Hist., pp. 17-28. Light to the Blind. Avaux to Louis XIV., August 20/30, August 28/September 7, September 10/20, September 17/27. In the last it is mentioned that Rosen visited the outposts at midnight and found all sentries and vedettes asleep, ‘sans en excepter pas un.’ Same to same, October 21/31. Nihill’s journal in Macpherson, i. 222. Memoires du Marquis de Sourches, September 19/29. Schomberg to William III., September 15, 20, 27, October 3, 6, State Papers, Domestic; and Dalrymple. Lord Lisburn to Shrewsbury, September 25, ib. A Jacobite account is in A relation of what most remarkably happened, 1689. On October 28 Dangeau notes that Avaux had told the French King that James’s army was in a good state, twenty-eight battalions of 600 men, sixteen squadrons of cavalry and ten of dragoons. He offered battle in two lines, leaving a reserve under Sutherland. Hamilton was at the centre of the first line with the King, Tyrconnel on the right, Rosen and Galway on the left. Berwick was at the centre of the second line with Sarsfield on the right. A diagram sent by Avaux is in Dangeau’s Diary, iii. 23.

[244] Schomberg to William III., September 20-27 and November 14, State Papers, Domestic. Caillemote to Shrewsbury, September 23, ib. Story’s Impartial History, p. 25. Letter in Le Fleming Papers, October 24. Dumont, who had fled from Normandy to Holland to escape the dragonnades, throws light on the sincerity of official conversions in France: he had received absolution from a conscientious priest at Rouen, who told him to take his time and not to go to church till he had reflected, ‘ce que j’ai executé fort religieusement, n’ayant jamais entendu de messe ni participé à leurs mystères.’ Luttrell, i. 613.

[245] Story’s Impartial History. Schomberg’s letters from September to December 1689, in State Papers, Domestic. W. Harbord to William III., October 23, ib. Newsletter of November 28, ib. Luttrell’s Diary, October and November, particularly November 15, where it is noted that letters from Ireland report a mortality of at least 10,000 in the Jacobite army. Evelyn’s Diary, February 19, 1689-90. Mr. Waller’s evidence in Grey’s Debates, November 26. During the terrible days of December 1812, after Napoleon deserted his army, Segur testifies to the extreme demoralisation of the survivors: ‘Tels que les sauvages, les plus forts dépouillaient les plus faibles: ils accouraient autour des mourants, souvent ils n’attendaient pas leurs derniers soupirs.’ Dumont lay in the Dundalk hospital for four weeks with enteric fever and actually recovered.

[246] Schomberg’s letters, ut sup. Story’s Impartial History, vol. i. Commons Journal, November 26, December 2 and 16. Grey’s Debates, November 26. A defence of Shales is attempted in Walton’s Hist. of the British Army, p. 74. Foxcroft’s Halifax, ii. 82. On February 19, 1689-90, Evelyn met General Douglas at dinner, who mentioned ‘the exceeding neglect of the English soldiers, suffering severely for want of clothes and necessaries this winter, exceedingly magnifying their courage and bravery during all their hardships.’

[247] Story’s Impartial History, pp. 25, 34. Avaux’s narrative sent to Seignelay on November 24/December 6, 1689. Luttrell’s Diary, October 3, November 15. State Papers, Domestic, November 28. Clarke’s Life of James II., ii. 383.

[248] Stevens, p. 72. Light to the Blind, p. 90. Macariæ Excidium, p. 38. Avaux to Louis XIV., November 14/24 1689, and February 1/11, 1689-90.

[249] Louis XIV. to Avaux, May 24 and November 16, 1689. Avaux to Louis XIV., November 24. Dangeau, January 6, 1689-90. De Sourches, November 19, February 20. Bussy Rabutin to Madame de Sévigné, March 23, 1689.

[250] Avaux to Louvois, October 11/21, 1689, and April 2/12, 1690. Louvois to Buridal, May 11, 1690, in Rousset, iv. 383. Schomberg considered that MacCarthy had broken his parole, but he was acquitted by a Court Martial in France. A sergeant whom he had bribed was executed. The regiments that sailed were those of MacCarthy himself, Butler, O’Brien, Fielding, and Dillon.

[251] Avaux to Louis XIV., November 14/24 and January 15/25 1689-90. Louis XIV. to Avaux, December 25/January 4. De Sourches, April 18, 1689. Madame de Sévigné, May 31, 1690. Lauzun to Louvois, May 10/20, in Ranke’s appendix. Letter of Rizzini in Haile’s Mary of Modena, p. 261. Louis privately cautioned James against trusting Albeville, who was known to be corrupt.

[252] Clarendon to Rochester, February 8, 1685-6. Proclamations of June 18 and 27, 1689. On September 19 Dr. King notes in his diary that ‘the great gun which lay in Castle yard was taken away in order to be melted and coined.’ Avaux to Louis XIV., December 12/22. On December 26/January 5 Louvois wrote to Avaux: ‘Comme le roi a veu par vos lettres que le Roy d’Angleterre craignait de manquer de cuivre pour faire de la monnoye; Sa Majesté a donné ordre que l’on mist sur le bastiment qui portera cette lettre une piece de canon du calibre de deux qui est eventée, de laquelle ceux qui travaillent à la monnoye du Roy d’Angleterre pourront se servir pour continuer à faire de la monnoye, en attendant que les soixante et quinze milliers de cuivre que le Roy envoye soient arrivez.’

[253] Proclamations of February 4 and 28, March 28, April 21, June 9 and 15, 1690; and July 10 (William III.). Avaux to Louis XIV., July 5/15, 1689; to Louvois, June 30/July 10; to Louis XIV., August 20/30 and September 10/20; to Louvois, November 1/11, November 26/December 6, 1689, and January 22/February 1, 1689-90. Light to the Blind. King’s State of the Protestants, chap. iii. section 11. Transactions of the Late King James in Ireland, licensed July 7, 1690, p. 57. Character of the Protestants of Ireland, licensed November 13, 1689. This last well-written tract has been attributed to Halifax, but neither Miss Foxcroft nor Sir W. Raleigh mention it. Story’s Impartial History, l. 93. Lauzun to Louvois, June 16/26, in Ranke’s appendix. King makes the total base coinage 965,375l. Story learned from treasury officials that ‘not much above’ 1,100,000l. had been coined. The True and Perfect Journal, 1690, states the amount at about two millions. Tyrconnel’s letter is in Haile’s Mary of Modena, p. 258.

[254] Captain Kennedy to the Scotch Council, December 12, in Leven and Melville Papers. Story’s Impartial History, November to February, 1689-90. The author of Light to the Blind says the attack on Newry was a mere reconnaissance and that there was no repulse. Schomberg says Boisseleau was there, State Papers, Domestic, December 6. As to the action at Cavan, besides the above and Berwick’s memoirs, there are accounts in State Papers, Domestic, particularly Schomberg’s letter, February 19, and that of Gustavus Hamilton, ambiguously calendared under March 21, 1689 (Addenda, p. 571).

[255] Melfort’s unpopularity is sufficiently shown by Dundee’s letters to him, June 27 and 28, Napier, iii. 599. Notices in Dangeau and De Sourches. Avaux’s letters, particularly that of July 16/26, enclosing James’s requirements, Louvois to Avaux, September 7/17. Madame de Sévigné marvelled greatly at Lauzun’s ‘second volume.’ The reference to her letters and to Bussy Rabutin’s concerning him are collected in the Grands Ecrivains edition of La Bruyère, i. 335, 535, where he is characterised under the name of Straton. Madame de Caylus in her memoirs notes the good luck of Lauzun in being in England at the critical time, gaining honour and glory for helping William by assisting the flight of James.

[256] Lauzun to Seignelay, April 6/16, in appendix to Ranke’s History and to Louvois, ib. June 16. Proclamation of March 25/April 4. It was known at the French Court that Lauzun was ‘extrêmement ulceré avec raison’ against Dover, De Sourches, April 24/May 4. Compare the extracts in Miss Sandars’s Lauzun. True and Perfect Journal, June 16.

[257] Simon Luttrell’s orders as Governor of Dublin, May 3 and June 18, 1690, in appendix to King’s State of the Protestants, nos. 30 and 31. Besides King’s principal book on this subject we have his autobiography, the original Latin printed in English Historical Review, vol. xiii., an English version in King’s A great Archbishop of Dublin, and his diary edited by Dr. Lawlor in the Irish Journal of Archæology, 1903.

[258] Archdeacon Hamilton’s Life of Bonnell, 3rd edition, 1707, particularly pp. 60, 273. Bonnell to Strype, August 20, 1684, January 21, and April 17, 1689, and August 5, 1690, in English Historical Review, xix. 122, 299. Clarendon and Rochester Corr., i. 245, 266. Cartwright was buried in Christ Church with a full choral service, all the principal people in Dublin attending, Athenæ Oxonienses, p. 831. Bonnell to Harty, Portland Papers, November 3, 1691.

[259] College register for 1689-90 printed in Stubbs’s Hist. of the University of Dublin, pp. 127-133. Harris’s Ware, ii. 288. King, iii. 15.

[CHAPTER LIV]
WILLIAM III. IN IRELAND, 1690. THE BOYNE

The French contingent. Dover and Lauzun.

Lauzun and Dover were in Dublin together early in April, and continued to quarrel there. The Englishman made light of the French contingent, saying that Louis was plainly deceiving King James, who would be well advised to make terms with the Prince of Orange. Uncle and nephew might then join their forces to those of the Augsburg allies and attack the tyrant of Europe. The old courtier proposed to go to William and make terms for himself, but James could not countenance this, though willing to give him a pass for Flanders, since he could not venture into France. In the end he was allowed to live and die unmolested in England. As for Lauzun, he had no hopes of successfully resisting the Prince of Orange, and proposed to burn Dublin and destroy the country entirely while retreating from point to point, but James thought this policy too cruel. In the meantime the French general exerted himself in the work of arming and organising the Irish, and in this he made considerable progress. He could not speak or understand English, and his attendance at the Council was waste of time, so he proposed to do business with the King and Tyrconnel. The three accordingly met daily, and Lauzun succeeded in making friends with the Lord Lieutenant, who had been cautioned by Avaux not to trust him lest he should usurp all power, seeing that he had already ruined his career by vaingloriousness, and was not likely to be much changed for the better. But he assured the French minister that he was a chastened man and worked with a single eye to the interest and wishes of his own King.[260]

Siege of Charlemont.

Attempt to relieve it.

Fall of Charlemont. Teague O’Regan.

While Lauzun and Tyrconnel tried to make up for lost time amid the dissipations of Dublin, Schomberg was growing stronger every day by the arrival of fresh troops from England and Scotland, including 6000 Danish veterans under the Duke of Würtemberg. Long before William left London the old general saw that a stand would probably be made at the Boyne, and he was anxious to take Charlemont, so that no enemy should be left in the rear. It was James’s last stronghold in Ulster, and Mountjoy had chosen the position well. The castle, which stood on the right or Armagh bank of the Blackwater, a few miles above Lough Neagh, had been fortified in modern fashion, and was well armed and manned. The town or village had been levelled, and the fort was nearly surrounded by bogs and fields subject to flooding. It was considered unassailable, except by placing batteries on the left bank of the river, and Schomberg, who reconnoitred the place, thought it too strong to attack with the means then at his command. In March Colonel La Caillemote brought up a small force in boats to stop the garrison from making incursions into Tyrone. He set fire to the bridge, and drove the Irish out of two small outworks. Paul Rapin, the historian, was wounded in this skirmish, and it is much to be regretted that we have no account by him. As his force increased, Schomberg massed troops all round Charlemont. Nevertheless, at the beginning of May Colonel Macmahon, who held Castleblaney, managed to elude the post at Armagh and brought 500 men, well armed but badly clothed, with provisions and ammunition, to the blockaded fort. Having got within the lines, they were quite unable to break out again, and had to encamp miserably between the inner and outer works, for the governor would not have them inside. This relief only hastened the end, for men could not carry much food through bogs and hills, and there were so many additional mouths. At last starvation-point was reached, and Schomberg was glad to have the place surrendered without a formal siege. The garrison marched out with all the honours of war, and made their way to Dundalk. As they passed, it was noticed that many were chewing pieces of hide with the hair on. They left nineteen pieces of ordnance behind them, but nothing eatable. Teague O’Regan himself was a grotesque figure, with worn-out clothes and draggled wig. He had been drinking brandy—and it naturally affected the head of a half-starved man. His charger, a vicious old screw, would scarcely allow him to salute Schomberg, who remarked that Teague’s horse was very mad and himself very drunk. But William met no braver enemy, and he afterwards defended Sligo with the same courage and tenacity. The victorious general ordered bread to be distributed among the vanquished. About 800 marched out, with 200 women and children. When Schomberg was told that the Irish would not stay in garrison without their wives and mistresses, he said there was more love than policy in it. Story himself saw papers in the late governor’s room which showed that he had information as to what was going on outside. James very rightly knighted O’Regan as soon as he reached Dublin.[261]

King William and Ireland.

It was known at the beginning of 1690 that King William had resolved to go to Ireland in person. There was strong opposition on the part of the Whigs, who argued that there were too many active Jacobites in England for the sovereign to leave it safely. Better to lose Ireland than England, said some. Nor would he be safe himself, for his courage led him into danger, in which he furnished a strong contrast to the King of France. He was reminded of Richard II.’s fate and of his own insecure position. ‘When any one at meat,’ said Delamere, ‘has unnecessarily risen from his chair to reach over to the other side of the table, if by design or chance his stool has been removed, who, suspecting no such thing, his breech has found the ground instead of his chair—there has been more in the company who have been pleased with it, than concerned for him.’ An address against the Irish voyage was contemplated in both Houses, and might have passed had not William prorogued and afterwards dissolved the Convention Parliament. The general election was favourable to him, and preparations began in earnest. The Commons did not give all that the King wished, but they provided money enough for the immediate purpose. Harbord was superseded for a time, and the duties which Shales had neglected were committed to others. Both Houses adjourned on May 23, and did not meet again for business until after William’s return from Ireland. The Government was left in Mary’s hands with a special council of four Whigs and five Tories.[262]

William reaches Ireland.

He marches towards Dublin.

He Maintains discipline.

The King, accompanied by Portland, set out from London on June 4, and slept that night at Northampton. On Sunday, the 8th, he attended service in Chester Cathedral, and heard a sermon from Dr. Stratford, who had succeeded Cartwright in that see. On the 12th he took ship at Hoylake and arrived with 300 sail at Carrickfergus on the 14th. An eye-witness says that the total number of vessels assembled was 700, and that Belfast Lough looked like a wood. William mounted his horse as soon as possible and rode amid cheering crowds through the town on his way to Belfast. At Whitehouse, Schomberg met him with his coach, and they drove together; a second carriage was sent by the General to bring up some of the grandees who had landed. At the north gate of the town the illustrious visitor was met by the Corporation in their robes, accompanied by Dr. Walker and a dozen other clergymen. All the way to the castle there were shouts of ‘God save King William,’ ‘God save our Protestant King.’ At night the streets and all the country round blazed with bonfires. They were seen, and the signal guns heard by one of Lauzun’s spies, who brought him the news two days later. Next day being Sunday, William heard Dr. Royse preach in the Cathedral on ‘Who through faith subdued kingdoms,’ and on the Monday received an address from the clergy, with Walker at their head. Good order was kept, and necessaries were cheap, for the ships brought vast quantities of provisions, and even of hay and straw. ‘We fear no more Dundalk wants,’ says one letter, and the army was thoroughly well provided; but of money there was no great plenty. William spent four days at Belfast, reviewing the troops and making arrangements. Sick of inaction and not fully paid, officers and soldiers longed for active service, and were not disappointed. On the 19th William dined with Schomberg at Lisburn, having previously issued a proclamation against plundering or taking goods without payment, and on the next day he was at Hillsborough, spurring those in authority under him to fresh efforts. He had not, he said, come to let the grass grow under his feet. Lest there should be any doubt about the meaning of his proclamation, he here issued a special order against pressing horses belonging to the country people without permission under the sign manual, which was afterwards refused even for ambulance purposes. A soldier transgressing this order was to run the gauntlet thrice through the whole regiment. A few months before Schomberg had rather made light of seizing the little country horses. On the 22nd William was at Loughbrickland, and by the 27th the whole army, mustering about 36,000 men, encamped a little to the south of Dundalk. During the whole campaign the King and Prince George of Denmark lived each in a wooden hut designed by Sir Christopher Wren, and capable of being carried on two wagons. When William inspected his troops he was not satisfied with seeing them march past from a comfortable eminence, but went in among the ranks, regardless of heat, wind, and clouds of dust. When a fuss was made about the wine for his table, he said he would drink water rather than that the men should suffer. He was deficient in courtly graces, but he was the kind of king whom soldiers will follow cheerfully against any odds.[263]

Skirmish near Newry, June 22.

Before making a general advance, William took care to have the line of march thoroughly reconnoitred. At a boggy spot about half-way between Newry and Dundalk, where there was a broken bridge, a party of 200 foot and dragoons fell into an ambuscade on the day that the King reached Loughbrickland. Lauzun takes credit for having laid the snare, and he had reason to know the place, for his horse had fallen under him there only two days before. The morning was foggy and the surprise complete. Captain Farlow, who led the infantry detachment, was taken prisoner with several others, and Colonel Dempsy, who commanded the Irish, was mortally wounded. There was a sharp skirmish, and the English were decidedly worsted, but not pursued. From Farlow James had the first certain news of William’s landing.[264]

James leaves Dublin, June 16.

He falls back without fighting.

Two days after King William’s landing, King James left Dublin to join his army near Dundalk. They were encamped about Roche Castle, and the prisoners taken with Captain Farlow reported that William was on the road to Newry with 50,000 men, which was an exaggeration. On the day after the skirmish there was a general retreat to the old position at Ardee, where entrenchments had been left unfinished the year before. James’s main object in advancing had been to exhaust the country through which his rival would have to march, but William, with the sea open, was in no want of supplies. The guns of the English fleet could be heard by both armies. The difficult ground about Moyry and Ravensdale had been the scene of much fighting in Elizabethan times, and had been slightly fortified by James, who was blamed for not trying to stop the invader there; but Berwick says that, with the force at his disposal, William could easily have turned the position from the Armagh side. Dundalk itself, though well fortified, was judged to be untenable, and Lauzun evacuated it five days before the final struggle. He abstained from burning the soldiers’ huts because some of last year’s infection still hung about them and might do the enemy more harm than want of shelter at midsummer. But both Dundalk and Ardee were thoroughly sacked by the Irish. On June 28, twelve days after leaving Dublin, James recrossed the Boyne, half of his army marching through Drogheda and the other half over the ford at Oldbridge, where entrenchments were begun but not finished, owing to the want of labour. Lord Iveagh was Governor of Drogheda, with 1300 men, and had he been an enterprising man he might have done much to cover the Jacobite right. The left wing, extending up the river, was evidently open to a flank attack, but James rightly says that the country afforded no better position. Sarsfield’s division, which had been detached to guard against a possible attack on Athlone, joined the main body on June 26, their leader having satisfied himself that all the troops about Cavan and Belturbet had drawn towards Armagh, so as to fall in with William’s line of march.[265]

William’s march to the Boyne.

He is wounded, June 30.

On June 27 William’s army was encamped a little to the south of Dundalk. He intended to attack the enemy at Ardee, but a party of cavalry found that position already abandoned. On the 30th the whole army marched towards the Boyne, the King himself diverging a little to the left so as to view Drogheda and the course of the river from the hill at Tullyesker. Schomberg was with him, and also Prince George, the Duke of Ormonde, Sidney, Solms, and Scravenmore. The latter, who had seen many armies, remarked that James’s was a small one, but William said there might be more in the town and behind the hills. A deserter said they were about 25,000, and the Williamite chaplain admits that his King had some 36,000. The line of march was through a deep depression, where a modern road runs to the east of Townley Hall, which is still known, and will always be known, as King William’s Glen. Thomas Bellingham, an officer who had connections in the country, took the opportunity of paying Mr. Townley a visit. About noon the head of the column came out into the open, and took up ground facing Oldbridge on the other side of the Boyne. William sat down to eat and rest a little higher up. A party of five officers, of whom Berwick, Tyrconnel, and Sarsfield were three, were observed riding slowly along the opposite bank, and shortly afterwards two field guns were quietly brought up and fired as soon as William was in the saddle again. A six-pound shot ricochetted and struck him on the right shoulder, tearing his coat and breaking the skin. He merely remarked in Dutch that it was near enough. Thomas Coningsby, afterwards an earl, applied a handkerchief to the bleeding wound, and William made light of it, retiring to a tent to have it dressed and then remounting. He remained on horseback for three hours without changing his coat, and laughed at one Dr. Sangrado who proposed to bleed him. The enemy, says Captain Parker, ‘concluded he was killed, and this news soon flew to Dublin and from thence to Paris, where they had public rejoicings for it.’ About three o’clock his artillery came up, and both shot and shells from small mortars were sent across the river, doing some mischief, but without altering the situation. At sunset there was a council of war, and Schomberg advised that a strong force should be sent up the river at midnight, so that James’s army might be taken in flank and rear and cut off from Dublin. William, however, who was supported by Solms and other Dutch officers, decided upon a frontal attack, somewhat to the veteran’s disgust. Many of the Enniskillen officers knew all the fords, and with their help the order for next day’s battle was arranged. At twelve o’clock William rode by torchlight through the whole army. He was a man who kept his own counsel, but his unwillingness to take Schomberg’s advice and perhaps gain a victory as complete as Ulm or Sedan may fairly be ascribed to his dread of catching James. As at Rochester, a means of escape was provided, and experience had shown that it would not be neglected. The necessity of sparing Mary’s feelings and the political danger of a captive king might well prevail against purely military considerations.[266]

Battle of the Boyne, July 1.

Whatever William may have said or thought at the evening council, he did not entirely reject the idea of a flank movement. Very early in the morning of July 1 he despatched Meinhart Schomberg with a strong body of horse and foot and five guns to cross at the bridge of Slane. They marched by the straight road, leaving the bend of the river far to their left. Sir Neill O’Neill with his dragoons were sent to guard this pass, and the bridge itself had been broken down, but there had been several very hot days, and the river, not being affected by the tide above Oldbridge, was fordable in many places. Schomberg’s men crossed with ease, partly near Slane and partly at Rossnaree lower down, the dragoons were beaten back, and O’Neill himself mortally wounded. This was at about half-past nine. Warned by the trumpets and drums of Schomberg’s force, Lauzun had already begun to extend to his left, and when he saw what had happened developed this movement gradually in order to secure the means of retreat. Seeing that Schomberg’s party was in danger, William sent Lieut.-General Douglas with a much larger force of infantry to his aid. A bog prevented the hostile wings from coming to close quarters, but Lauzun gained Duleek, which commanded the Dublin road. In the meantime the passage at Oldbridge, where Richard Hamilton commanded with eight battalions, had been forced, and soon after noon most of the Irish infantry were in full flight, nor is this to be wondered at, for less than a week before, many of them had not learned how to fire their pieces. The baggage had been sent off at daybreak; the tents and knapsacks became the prey of the victors. Stevens saw the hills covered with fugitives running past like sheep before a wolf. ‘The shame of our regiment,’ he says, ‘only afflicted me before, but now all the horror of a routed army, just before so vigorous and desirous of battle, and broke without scarce a stroke of the enemy, so perplexed my soul that I envied the few dead.’[267]

Victory of William.

Schomberg was over the Boyne before the left and centre of William’s army began to move, but at a quarter past ten the Blue Dutch Guards, eight or ten deep, entered the water opposite the unfinished works at Oldbridge, their drums beating until they reached the bank. They were up to their waists, and crossed under a heavy but ineffectual fire, reserving their own until they reached dry land. The first to climb the bank was a lieutenant who formed up the leading files, and then crouched down for them to shoot over his head. The Irish foot abandoned the first ditch, but their cavalry, under Berwick’s command, charged the Dutch furiously before they were fully in order. They stood firm against this and several other attacks, gradually pressing the Irish infantry backwards, and in the meantime the French and Enniskillen foot passed the river a little farther down, several English and Danish regiments still lower. The tide was rising, so that some of the men were up to their arm-pits, and on the extreme left, horses had to swim. Some of the Danish infantry carried their guns over their heads, but others fired steadily as they waded over. William was looking on, and said he had never seen anything better done. They were at once attacked by the Irish cavalry, and there was hard fighting for half an hour. A regiment of French Huguenots was broken by a charge, and Colonel La Cailemotte was carried off the field mortally wounded, but still encouraging his men, ‘A la gloire, mes enfants, à la gloire!’ Seeing his friends in difficulties, Schomberg crossed himself, reminding them that their persecutors were before them. He fell, shot through the neck, and with sabre wounds on the head. Dr. Walker, the still unconsecrated Bishop of Derry, was killed soon afterwards, and his brother clergyman Story, offers as an excuse for his presence, that he was going to look at the wounded general. Walker, says the chaplain, was stripped at once, ‘for the Scots-Irish that followed our camp were got through already, and took off most of the plunder.’ When the news of Schomberg’s death was brought to William, he laid his finger on his lips, and lost no time in passing the river himself with the left wing of his cavalry, Dutch and Dane chiefly, with Wolseley’s Enniskilleners and Cutts’s English regiment. His right arm was stiff from yesterday’s wound, and he carried a stick only. He was unable to bear his cuirass, and when he drew his sword later, had to hold it in his left hand. He crossed where the little Drybridge stream enters the Boyne, but his horse stuck fast in the boggy ground beyond the river, and he had to dismount before it could be extricated. He was at once engaged in the thickest of the fight, and a bullet which struck the heel of his boot killed a horse close by. He put himself at the head of the Enniskillen cavalry, saying, ‘What will you do for me?’ Owing possibly to a mistake, the Enniskilleners were driven back for a short distance, and then William led on his steady Dutch. The Enniskilleners soon recovered themselves, and the Irish foot were pressed backwards, but the cavalry for the most part fought bravely, making repeated and often successful charges, but being gradually overborne by the disciplined troops opposed to them. Lord Dungan was killed early in the fight, and his dragoons would do nothing afterwards. Lord Clare’s yellow dragoons also ran away, and some of them never stopped until they got far beyond the Shannon. The broken troops rode right through the retreating foot as if they had been enemies. But Tyrconnel’s and Parker’s regiments of horse performed prodigies of valour. The latter was wounded, and Sheldon, who commanded the former corps, had two horses killed under him. Berwick’s was shot, and rolled over his rider. Hamilton, who headed the last charge, was wounded and taken prisoner near Plattin House, which stands two miles back from the river. William said he was very glad to see him, and asked if the cavalry would make any more fight. ‘Upon my honour,’ said the prisoner, ‘I believe they will.’ ‘Your honour!’ said the King; and that was his only revenge. Hamilton was sent to the Tower as a prisoner of war, and was exchanged for Lord Mountjoy in the spring of 1692. Neither of them saw Ireland again, and Mountjoy, whom William made Master of the Ordnance, was killed at Steenkirk soon after his release from the Bastille. He had had enough of passive obedience. There was no more fighting, but the Irish cavalry rallied to protect the retreat with the unbroken French contingent. The flying infantry threw away their arms, and even their boots, and not many were overtaken, though little quarter was given. The loss of the victors was about one-third as great. The pursuit continued as far as Naul, when the light began to fail. Drogheda surrendered the next day, the garrison marching out without arms, rather than undergo the horrors of an assault. The terms offered were pretty much the same as Cromwell’s, forty years before, and the memories attaching to his siege were not favourable to resistance.[268]

Flight of James.

On the fatal morning King James posted himself near the church at Donore, whence he could see both armies. He took no part in the battle, and as appears from his own account was chiefly concerned lest his retreat should be cut off. As soon as the danger seemed imminent he drew off to the left and joined Lauzun, who strongly advised him to take care of himself. He needed but little pressing, and with four troops of horse and four of dragoons he passed Duleek first and led the way back to Dublin. The French kept their ranks and prevented the victors from pressing too hard upon the routed army. Berwick reached Duleek about the same time as William himself, and had to gallop hard to avoid being intercepted. Lauzun and Tyrconnel kept together. The loss in James’s army was perhaps 1500, that in William’s about 500. To compare the conduct of the two Kings, it need only be said that one led the advance and the other the retreat.[269]

Importance of the battle.

From the military point of view, the battle of the Boyne is not interesting, and French writers dismiss it as a skirmish, in which Marshal Schomberg happened to be killed. With a much superior force, both in numbers and quality, William forced the passage of a small river which was fordable in many places. The importance of the action lies in its international character, and its political effect was enormous in checking the overweening ambition of France. There have been other occasions on which very small battles have decided very great causes. At Valmy the forces engaged were greater than at the Boyne, but the number of casualties was less than one-half, and yet the effect is felt to this day. At Calatafimi the killed and wounded altogether were only about 400, but that fight went far to change the map of Europe. The great French victory at Fleurus and the great English disaster off Beachy Head were both neutralised on the banks of the Boyne. Lauzun’s despatch is dated sixteen days after the battle, and it was a fortnight later that the full news reached Louis XIV. But King James had arrived at Brest, with the tidings of his own defeat, laying all the blame on the Irish, and giving faint praise even to the cavalry who had fought so well. Soon after this it was known that the Prince of Orange had been hit, and confidently reported that he was dead. Without any encouragement from the authorities, the Parisians abandoned themselves to rejoicing. How much the French feared William, said Bolingbroke, ‘appeared in the extravagant and indecent joy they expressed on a false report of his death.’ The citizens dined in the streets, casks of wine were broached, there were bonfires and fireworks everywhere. Effigies of William were cast on dunghills, thrown into the Seine, or broken on the wheel. First President Harlay and Advocate-General Talon had to drink the King’s health, and Bossuet, though he protested that he was on his way to say mass, was forced to do the same. Police officers sent to suppress the unauthorised rejoicings had to drink with the rest. Even in the inner court at Versailles the guards could hardly prevent the people from lighting a fire. The excitement spread to remote villages, and was not allayed for weeks. Even after the middle of August the Abbé de Choisy made a bet with La Fontaine that the Prince was dead, staking the price of the poet’s works against the books themselves. The report reached Modena, but with the puzzling addition that James was at St. Germain. Then the truth came in English and Dutch papers. At Rome, too, the event was long uncertain. Melfort at first heard that the Prince of Orange was killed, and he enlarged on King James’s opportunity. This was the time to take the power of the purse from Parliament, to repeal the Habeas Corpus Act, and to abolish trial by jury in cases of treason. If an amnesty was found necessary, the list of exceptions should be as long as possible, and not one of those excepted should ever be pardoned on any consideration. Alexander VIII., who thought more of enriching his family than of rescuing England, was horrified that Te Deums should be sung in Austrian cathedrals for William’s victory; but he had no money to spare, and could not venture to go against the general sense of European sovereigns. Even the French, though they would have welcomed the death of their great antagonist, had very little sympathy with his dethroned rival.[270]

State of Dublin.

In the morning of July 1 Dublin was full of rumours that a battle was imminent. The gates were closely guarded, and Protestants kept their houses. Every hour brought a fresh report. The French were in Dublin Bay. An express from Waterford had announced that the Isle of Wight was in French hands, and the victors going to Dover. The English right wing on the Boyne had been completely routed. But at five in the afternoon stragglers arrived on tired horses, who said the Irish had the worst, and an hour later others declared that the rout was complete. ‘Till one that night all the entries of the town were filled with dusty, wounded, and tired soldiers and carriages perpetually coming in.’ A little before ten King James arrived with 200 horse in disorder, and was received by Lady Tyrconnel at the Castle gate. He was followed two hours later by the bulk of the Irish cavalry in good order, ‘with kettledrums, hautboys, and trumpets.’ Next morning came the French with all their guns and many of the Irish foot. But the King was already gone. He saw some of his Council—Herbert, Fitton, the Duke of Powis, Price, Nagle, and Albeville being among them—and asked whether the news of the battle of Fleurus was not a reason for going to France. He seems to have thought that Louis would seize the opportunity of invading England while William was away. His advisers urged him to run no risk of capture, since the victorious enemy might appear in the morning. At midnight a message came from Berwick to say that he had rallied some of the fugitives and asking for cavalry. His father sent a few troops that had not been in the battle, but the gathering soon dispersed. Tyrconnel sent his chaplain to advise His Majesty to lose no time, and to send all the troops to meet him and Lauzun at Leixlip. La Hoguette and other superior officers appeared in Dublin without their men, which was explained by a mistaken order having been given to meet Lauzun at Dunboyne. At five in the morning, after a few hours’ rest, James sent for the Mayor and made a speech to him and others present. Everything, he said, was against him. In England he had an army that would have fought if they had not proved false; in Ireland his soldiers were loyal enough, but would not stand by him. He had now to seek safety for himself, and advised his hearers to do the same. They were not to wreak present vengeance on the Protestants, nor to injure a city in which he still had an interest. He then took horse for Bray, ordering Simon Luttrell to evacuate the town and to do no mischief. La Hoguette and the other French officers asked for horses, but he had none to give them, and they were left to follow as best they could. Brigadier Wauchop was posted near the north end of Dublin to turn the stream of fugitives towards Limerick. Luttrell was the last man to leave his post, and by sunset the Castle was in sole charge of Captain Farlow, who had been a close prisoner since the skirmish near Ravensdale.[271]

Louvois had strictly charged Lauzun not to attempt any dazzling exploit, but to devote himself entirely to gain time and to prolong the war. From the slavish way in which he addressed the great minister, belittling himself and claiming no merit but in strict obedience, it is evident that Lauzun distrusted his own powers. He had no belief in the cause for which he was fighting, and his main objects were to get King James safely back to his wife and to restore to King Louis his money, his guns, and as many of his soldiers as possible. Above all things he longed to get out of Ireland himself. The glory of defending Limerick was left to Boisseleau, the credit of keeping the French troops together after the retreat from the Boyne chiefly belongs to the Swiss Colonel Zurlauben and to a captain named La Pujade, of whom little else seems to be known. John and Anthony Hamilton as well as Tyrconnel accompanied Lauzun in the retreat to Limerick. La Hoguette and several other field officers seemed only anxious to get to the sea. During the battle the only French officer of rank killed was the Marquis d’Hoquincourt, who commanded an Irish battalion. Finding that his men would not stand, he charged alone and fell covered with wounds. Lauzun certainly gained no glory, and was quite unfit for the task in hand, but he maintained order during the retreat on the day of the Boyne, and the rear was then the post of honour. Long imprisonment may have shaken his nerves, but it seems hard to call him a coward, as Rousset has done, and he is more fairly to be judged by what he wrote to Louvois from Galway shortly before sailing for France:—‘The bad state of affairs and my small capacity will cause me to make many mistakes, but I beg you to excuse me to His Majesty; and at least I can assure you that death would be sweeter than what I suffer here.’[272]

King James had been most careful to provide for his own escape. More than a week before the battle he sent Sir Patrick Trant to prepare a ship at Waterford, and on the day after it he rode hard in that direction. Leaving Dublin about five in the morning, he soon reached Bray with two troops, which he left behind with orders to defend the bridge until twelve. No man pursued, and he travelled unmolested through the Wicklow highlands to Arklow, where there was a halt of two hours. Soon after leaving this place he was overtaken by La Hoguette and his three comrades, who had succeeded in mounting themselves, and who declared that they had been followed by troops. This was certainly not the case, but James was easily persuaded to mend his pace. At Enniscorthy he entered the house of Francis Randall, a Quaker, who observed that ‘the dejected monarch’ had been riding with his pistols at full cock. The man of peace set this right, prevented his men from seizing the King in hope of reward, and provided fresh horses. James reached Duncannon Fort about sunrise. La Hoguette and his friends went to Passage, higher up the Suir, where they found a ship of St. Malo mounting twenty-eight guns. The captain, who may have been in treaty with Trant, dropped down with the tide and was out of the river before night. King James’s Tower at Duncannon still preserves the memory of his flight. When safe at sea the Frenchmen wished him to go straight to Brest, but he preferred Kinsale, which was reached in the morning. There he found ten out of the twenty-five French frigates, provided at Mary of Modena’s request to secure her husband’s retreat and, if possible, to stop William’s supplies. The rest of the squadron did not reach Ireland. Before sailing finally James wrote to Tyrconnel giving him power to continue the struggle or to make terms at his discretion, and leaving him 50,000 pistoles, which was all the money he had. He reached Brest on the ninth day after the Boyne, bringing the first news of his own overthrow to France. Louis XIV. was as kind and hospitable as ever, but took care not to trust his guest with another army.[273]

The ground over which the Jacobite army retreated was so difficult that no very close pursuit was made. Some scattered horsemen hung about Lauzun’s flanks next morning, and added to the confusion of the beaten army, but without making any real impression. The glen at Naul formed an obstacle not to be attempted when daylight was failing. William went back to Duleek and spent the night in his carriage, the army bivouacking round him. The night was cold, though the day had been hot, and the soldiers made fires out of four or five thousand pikes and muskets which the fugitives had thrown away so as to run faster. Next morning, parties were detached to bring the tents and baggage from beyond the Boyne. Suspense reigned in Dublin during the day after the battle. Simon Luttrell had intended to carry off some of the chief Protestant inhabitants as hostages, but was prevented by rumours of a force landing near the town. Most of the well-to-do Roman Catholics followed him southwards, but their poorer co-religionists were soon in as bad a position and subjected to as great fear as the Protestants had been. They were protected by Captain Robert Fitzgerald, uncle of the Earl of Kildare, who lived in England. But some outrages were committed by the Galway Protestants, who had been long prisoners. Fitzgerald had been turned out of the army by Tyrconnel, deprived of his troop, for which he had paid 2000l., and imprisoned for some time. He now formed a guard of the most respectable Protestants, who prevented plunder, the hope of which had drawn some of King James’s men back into the town. A French soldier was caught trying to burn the thatch in Kevin Street, but was released after two days because he had acted under the orders of his major. Dublin narrowly escaped the fate of the Palatinate. Fitzgerald occupied the Castle immediately after Luttrell had left it, and in the morning a committee of nine, of which Dr. King was one, took charge of the city, and appointed him Governor until the King’s pleasure should be known. At noon he sent a letter to William, asking for help lest the enemy should return and injure the town. During the day the rescued Protestants ran about saluting and embracing each other, and blessing God for their wonderful deliverance, as if they had risen from the dead, and when at eight in the evening a troop of dragoons came in with an officer to take charge of stores, they hugged the horses and almost pulled the men off in their joy. When the King himself arrived, the rejoicings were not so great as for that first troop. Early on July 4, a large body of cavalry came in accompanied by the young Duke of Ormonde as a volunteer, and the Blue Dutch Guards followed later. William encamped at Finglas, and on Sunday, July 6, rode into Dublin to attend service at St. Patrick’s and hear a sermon from Dr. King. He returned to camp afterwards, and next day issued a declaration offering protection for person and property to ‘all poor labourers, common soldiers, country farmers, ploughmen, and colliers,’ and inhabitants of towns who had fled, provided they returned home by August 1, surrendered their arms, and gave their names for registration. Tenants were to pay their rents to Protestant landlords, but in other cases to hold the money until further orders. All disorder was to be sternly repressed, but ‘the desperate leaders of the present rebellion,’ who had called in the French, oppressed the Protestants, and rejected pardon offered a year before—these were to be left to the event of war unless they showed themselves fully penitent. William would have given better terms to the hostile landowners, but the men who had been included in the great Act of Attainder were in no forgiving mood, and he had to yield. When the time allowed had expired, this declaration was found to have had little effect, and the period of grace was extended to August 25, somewhat better conditions being given to the tenants and labourers. But for men of superior rank and quality, and for holders of office, no course was left but to surrender and betake themselves to some town where they might be allowed subsistence if destitute. Foreigners who came into the King’s quarters, might have passports to go home to their respective countries.[274]

Final ruin of the Stuart cause.

The reign of the Stuarts ended with the second flight of James II., though the military reduction of Ireland was deferred for more than a year. Owing chiefly to Sarsfield’s exploit, William abandoned the siege of Limerick, the defence of which forms a kind of counterpart to that of Londonderry. The international character of the contest is emphasised by the fact that in the decisive battle of Aughrim, the English army was commanded by a Dutchman, and the Irish by a Frenchman. Later on no Jacobite insurrection took place in Ireland, but vast numbers of Irishmen entered the French service and worked against England though they were unable to do anything for their own country. Sarsfield fell at Landen. At Paris in 1715, said Bolingbroke, ‘care and hope sat on every busy Irish face. Those who could write and read had letters to show, and those who had not arrived to this pitch of erudition had their secrets to whisper. No sex was excluded from this ministry. Fanny Oglethorpe kept her corner in it, and Olive Trant was the great wheel of our machine.’ But Ireland herself was quiet during the ill-starred movements in Scotland and in the North of England. In 1745 again nothing happened in Ireland, though the refugees had much to do with the events of that year, and were largely instrumental in the English defeat at Fontenoy. Of the seven men of Moidart who stood by Charles Edward on the Inverness-shire shore, at least two were Irish, one being a son of Tyrconnel’s secretary, Thomas Sheridan.

Sir Charles Wogan, who escaped from Newgate in 1715 and served both France and Spain, secured Maria Clementina for the Pretender. He told Swift that Irish soldiers abroad ‘had always the post of honour allowed them, where it was mixed with danger, and lived in perpetual fire,’ but that their reward was systematically scanty. Promises made to them were not kept. But they continued to fight bravely, to plot, and to hope against hope. During the dreary period of the penal laws the exiles damaged England without benefiting Ireland, but many of them or their children achieved success abroad. The names of O’Donnell, Macmahon, and Wall have a place in continental history.