Skirmish at Cladyford.
James found it hard to believe that Londonderry would be a serious obstacle, and Melfort, whose eyes were fixed on Scotland, encouraged this view, but Avaux opposed it, fearing that, in the absence of Tyrconnel, the King would be entirely led by Melfort in the English interest. Tyrconnel also wished him to stay in Dublin, to devote his attention to forming a strong army, and not to dream of Great Britain until he had thoroughly secured Ireland. He decided at last to go North, and started on April 8, Pusignan having already gone thither with reinforcements for Hamilton. The King was accompanied by Avaux, Rosen, and Melfort, while Tyrconnel occupied himself with the new levies, whom there was no money to pay and whom he tried to get clothed at the expense of the officers. Before reaching Armagh, which had been stripped bare by the Protestants and afforded scant lodging for a court, James heard that Coleraine had been evacuated. At Charlemont, Pusignan, who said the country was like Arabia, found all military matters in a very bad way; and at Dungannon, James himself saw a regiment in which not a hundred muskets were fit to fire. Order after order was sent to expedite the arms from Cork, Kinsale, and Waterford, but when he returned to Dublin nothing had yet been done, nor were any tools being prepared for siege-work. The French ambassador was disgusted with everything he saw, but admired the wonderful hardiness of the Irish soldiers, who would swim a river thrice in a day’s march, and with no sustenance but thin oatcake and bad water. Such beer as could be had was no better, and would not keep at all. Louvois took note that French soldiers could not live on this fare, but required bread, half of wheat and half of rye. Only three wretched cabins were passed between Charlemont and Omagh, where the chimneys were demolished, the windows broken, even the locks and bolts carried off. As they drew near the city of refuge, the fugitive Protestants had had more time to make a desert behind them. Hearing that Lundy was in the field with a large force, and that English ships had appeared in Lough Foyle, James lost heart and went back to Charlemont, on his way to Dublin. But Lundy had taken care that the King’s road northward should be safe, for he posted thirty men at Cladyford on the Finn, with only three rounds of ammunition. They were commanded by Adam Murray, who was the bravest of the brave, but he was forced to retire. Lord Kingston was ordered up in support, but the summons was sent when it was already too late. A panic seized some other regiments, and Rosen was able to cross at Strabane without loss. It was proposed to throw harrows into the ford, but this precaution was not taken. Lundy set the example of flight, and from five to ten thousand men went crowding back to Londonderry without striking a blow. Among them was Walker’s regiment, which was shut out, and did not gain admission till next morning, ‘with much difficulty and some violence upon the sentry.’[200]
Vacillation of James.
He comes before Londonderry.
Throughout his stay in Ireland James showed a proper regard for his own safety, and he turned back from Omagh though unwilling that the French should have the credit of taking Londonderry. Some chance shots fired by his own men filled him with apprehension of an attack. Before setting out he had the news of Rosen’s victory, but that general took care not to ask for the royal presence. At Charlemont an express came from Berwick saying that negotiations for surrender were on foot, and that if the King appeared nothing could or would withstand him. Melfort warmly encouraged the idea, and Avaux resisted in vain. After a day’s rest the poor horses, which had not had a proper feed for four days, were again called upon, and James started for the North. The French ambassador, having no taste for the discomforts of a camp and nothing to do there, returned to Dublin, where he might hope to expedite too long neglected preparations. The King pushed on to St. Johnstown, five miles from Londonderry, and sent a letter to the garrison suggesting a parley for the purpose of a surrender. A clergyman named Whitlow was the messenger. Lundy assembled his council with the officers of Cunningham’s and Richards’ regiments, taking care to exclude the fighting party. They agreed that the town was untenable and that it would be necessary to surrender, and the English ships sailed away. The King went no further than to promise them protection if they gave up the place and their arms. On the night of April 17 one of the town gates stood open and the keys were missing. An officer noticed it, and doubled the guards on his own responsibility. Muggeridge, the town clerk, disclosed the proceedings at the council. Jacobite emissaries were within the walls, and there can be little doubt that Lundy meditated treachery. Next day Adam Murray, who had been driven from Cladyford by want of ammunition, appeared at the gates. Lundy refused him admission, and even Walker hesitated about the men, though he offered to pull their leader with a rope over the wall. James Morrison, captain of the Guard, cut the knot by throwing open the gate. Murray brought in his followers, and became the great fighting hero of the siege. Next day James came near the gate, believing that his presence would work wonders, and that nothing was to be feared from Lundy. A shot from the wall killed an officer at his side, and the great siege began. Hamilton had promised not to come within five miles during the negotiations; but Rosen, though he knew this, moved up his troops without orders from James, and the men on the wall naturally supposed that they were betrayed.[201]
French fleet at Bantry.
John Stevens.
Naval action.
The ships that accompanied James to Ireland returned to Brest, and his English, Irish, and Scotch subjects gathered there from different parts of northern France. There were also French officers sent by Louis, and many adventurers who hoped for plunder or promotion. One who had been cashiered for a fatal duel was allowed to serve in Ireland at Mary of Modena’s request. Others, who could not show themselves at Paris, did likewise. Among the English loyalists was John Stevens, whose account has been fortunately preserved. His father was in Catherine of Braganza’s service and had been known to the elder Clarendon at Madrid. Young Stevens, who was a Spanish scholar, hankered after military distinction, and was recommended by the Lord Lieutenant Clarendon for a cornetcy—‘a colours would make him very happy.’ Tyrconnel would, of course, do nothing on his predecessor’s recommendation, but Stevens found employment as an exciseman at Welshpool. He learned something of the language and found it useful in Brittany. [The strength of his royalist and anti-Protestant feelings may be guessed from his calling the seven bishops champions of Satan. Ken and Sancroft champions of Satan!] Stevens followed his King to France, and was on the road to Brest before the end of February. There was no discipline among the horde of exiles who flocked to the naval port, and they were ‘guilty of all sorts of disorders that could have been acted by a dissolute army in an enemy’s country.... I have since seen some of the greatest rascals in the company preferred to considerable posts.’ The poverty-stricken crowd were treated with contempt by the French naval officers during the long delay at Brest and the passage to Ireland. They lay on boards without blankets, and those who were fortunate enough to find hammocks were cut down at night by the sailors. On the last day of April they entered Bantry Bay. The English fleet under Herbert being soon descried in the offing, the French Admiral, Count Château Renaud, ordered all the passengers, treasure, and arms to be landed from his light vessels, while he prepared for action. The battle or skirmish of May 1 was quite indecisive, but the French fleet was much the stronger of the two, and Château Renaud gained his main object, which was to land the passengers and stores. Herbert was made an Earl, and James ordered a Te Deum.[202]
General mismanagement.