The savage Rosen put his menace into force. He drove the wretched people from the country, at the point of the pike, under the walls. On the 2nd of July this melancholy crowd of many hundreds was seen by the besieged from the walls, hemmed in between the town and the army—old men incapable of bearing arms, miserable women, and lamenting children, where, without food or shelter, they were cooped up between their enemies and their friends, who could not help them. Many of these unhappy people had protections under James's own hand, but Rosen cared not for that. For two days and nights this woful throng of human beings was kept there, in spite of the strong remonstrances of Hamilton and other English officers, who were not accustomed to such devilish modes of war. The indignant men in Londonderry erected gallows on the walls, and sent Rosen word that, unless he let the perishing people go, they would hang up the principal of their prisoners. But it was not till many of the victims had died, and a storm of indignation at this unheard-of barbarity assailed him in his own camp, that Rosen opened his ranks and allowed the poor wretches to depart.
James, who was himself by no means of the melting mood, was shocked when he heard of this diabolical barbarity, and the comments upon it amongst those around him. He recalled Rosen and restored the command to Hamilton. Then the siege again went on with redoubled fury, and all the last expiring strength of the besieged was required to sustain it. Hamilton also terrified them by continual ruses and false rumours. He ordered his soldiers to raise a loud shout, and the besieged to be informed that Enniskillen had fallen, and that now there was no hope whatever for them. The besieged were so depressed by this news, for they had no means of testing it, that they offered to capitulate, but could obtain no terms that they could accept. And all this time the imbecile or base Kirke was lying within a few miles of them with abundance of provisions, and a force capable with ease of forcing its way to them. He had even the cruelty to send in a secret message to Walker that he was coming in full force, and then to lie still again for more than a fortnight. At length, however, he received a peremptory order from William to force the boom and relieve the town. No sooner did this order reach him than he showed with what ease he could have accomplished this at first, six weeks ago. The boom was burst asunder by two vessels—the Mountjoy and Phœnix—dashing themselves against it, while they were covered by a third, the Dartmouth, and the place was open (July 30) to the conveyance of the troops and the provisions. Kirke was invited to take the command, and the Irish camp, despairing of any success, drew off on the 1st of August, and raised this most memorable siege, in which four out of the seven thousand defenders perished, besides a multitude of other inhabitants, amounting, according to some calculations, to eight or nine thousand souls. On the side of the Irish as many are said to have fallen; and of the thirty-six French gunners who directed the cannonade, all had been killed but five. Besides the miseries endured in the town, those of the poor people who survived being driven under the walls found, on their return to what had been their homes, that they were their homes no longer. Their villages, crops, ricks, buildings, all had been burnt down, and the whole country laid waste.
THE "MOUNTJOY" AND "PHŒNIX" BREAKING THE BOOM AT LONDONDERRY. (See p. [416].)
The Enniskilleners had meanwhile been actively engaged against other detachments of James's army, but had bravely beaten them off, and on the same day that Londonderry was relieved had won a signal victory over them at Newton Butler, attacking five thousand Irish under General Macarthy, though they themselves numbered only about three hundred, and killing, it is said, two thousand, and driving five hundred more into Lough Erne, where they were drowned. This decisive defeat of the Irish hastened the retreat of the army retiring from Londonderry. They fled towards Dublin in haste and terror, leaving behind their baggage. Sarsfield abandoned Sligo, and James was on the very point of abandoning Dublin in the midst of the panic that seized it. At the same time came from Scotland the news of the death of Dundee at Killiecrankie; and on the 13th of August Marshal Schomberg landed at Carrickfergus with an army of sixteen thousand, composed of English, Scots, Dutch, Danes, and French Huguenots. Matters were fast assuming a serious aspect for James; his affairs not only in the field, but his civil government, falling every day into a more ominous condition.
LANDING OF MARSHAL SCHOMBERG AT CARRICKFERGUS. (See p. [416].)
One reason for James quitting the siege of Londonderry in person was that the time for the assembling of his Irish Parliament drew near. No sooner did he reach Dublin than he was met by the news that the English fleet under Admiral Herbert had been beaten by the French at Bantry Bay. Herbert had been ordered to intercept the French fleet between Brest and Ireland; but he had missed it, and James had safely landed. Whilst he was still beating about, a second squadron, under Chateau Renard, had also made its way over, and anchored with the first in Bantry Bay. On Herbert discovering them there, confident in their superior numbers, they came out, and there was a sharp fight. In the evening Herbert sheered off towards the Scilly Isles, and the French with great exultation, as in a victory, returned into the bay. James found the French at Dublin in high spirits at the unusual circumstance of beating English sailors; but his English adherents were by no means pleased with this triumphing over their countrymen, hostile though they were; and James, who had always prided himself on the English navy, is said, when D'Avaux boasted how the French had beaten the English, to have replied gloomily, "It is the first time." Even the English exiles in France showed a similar mortification, though the French victory, such as it was, was in their cause. Both sides, however, claimed the victory. In England Parliament voted thanks to Herbert; in Dublin James ordered bonfires and a Te Deum.