The morning of Tuesday, the 1st of July, 1690, broke calm and bright. At
about six o'clock in the morning the English right wing, under General
Douglas and Count Schomberg, marched towards Slane. It consisted of
twenty-four squadrons of horse, and six battalions of infantry. As they
marched along at the back of the river, they discovered several shallows,
and crossed without proceeding as far as Slane. No serious resistance was
offered to their passage of the Boyne, as the Irish had here only some
parties of skirmishers, who fell back as they advanced.
After forming the troops in order, Douglas and Schomberg advanced, but
presently perceived the French battalions and a great part of the Irish
cavalry, forming the left wing of James's army, drawn up in order at some
distance. They consequently halted, and sent for reinforcements. When
these arrived, they extended their lines to the right, so as to outflank
the enemy, and, supporting their cavalry by alternate battalions of
infantry, again moved forward.
The Irish skirmishers fell back before their advance, taking advantage of
the banks of the ditches, which divided the ground into small fields, and
keeping up a galling fire upon the British as they advanced. With some
difficulty, the latter passed over this broken ground and formed in order
of battle, on the edge of what appeared to be a plain, but which was in
fact a deep bog, which completely covered the Irish left. Here they came
to a standstill.
William had waited, until he believed that his right would have had time
to fall upon the Irish left, and then ordered his centre to advance and
force the passage at Old Bridge. The Dutch guards, whom William relied
upon as his best and most trustworthy troops, advanced in splendid order
to the river side, with their drums beating the march. When they reached
the water's edge the drums ceased, and the soldiers entered the river.
The stream rose as the dense column marched in and dammed it up, and the
water reached the shoulders of the grenadiers, but they still moved on,
in regular order, keeping their arms and ammunition dry by holding them
above their heads. On the opposite bank, the hedges near the brink of the
river were lined with skirmishers, while in the rear, in a hollow covered
by some little hills, seven regiments of Irish infantry, supported by ten
troops of horse and Tyrconnell's regiment of cavalry, were drawn up. The
hills protected them from the fire of the British batteries, which passed
over their heads.
The Dutch troops continued their way unmolested, until they reached the
middle of the river, when a hot fire was opened upon them from the Irish
skirmishers; but the Dutch moved on, unshaken, and soon gained the
opposite bank, where they rapidly formed up, the skirmishers retiring
before them. Scarcely had the Dutch formed their squares, when the Irish
horse burst down upon them at full speed, and charged them with
impetuosity.
They stood the charge unbroken, but again and again the Irish horse
charged down upon them, with the greatest gallantry. William pushed two
regiments of French Huguenots and one of British across the river, to the
assistance of the Dutch guards, and ordered Sir John Hanmars and the
Count of Nassau's regiment to cross, lower down the stream, to support
them.
As the supports were making a passage, General Hamilton advanced, at the
head of a body of Irish infantry, to the water's edge, and, dashing into
the river, encountered the French Huguenot regiments in the middle of the
stream. A desperate fight ensued, but the French made their way across,
and Hamilton, falling back with his infantry, opened to the right and
left, permitting the Irish horse to charge through them.
These rushed with fury upon the French regiment of Colonel La Callimot,
and cut their way right through them. Then, wheeling, they charged them
in flank again, broke them, and drove them into the river. La Callimot
himself was killed, and but few of his regiment regained the opposite
bank.
In the meantime the Dutch guards, now reinforced, were advancing slowly,
the Irish infantry holding fast to the hedges and brushwood, and
contesting every inch of the ground, while, wherever the ground permitted
it, the Irish horse burst down upon them, evincing a gallantry and
determination which would have done honour to the finest cavalry in
Europe. The king continued to make repeated efforts to support his Dutch
troops, and, after the French were broken, he pushed forward the Danish
horse; but no sooner had they crossed the bank than the Irish cavalry
burst down upon them, broke them, and drove them back into the river.
They fled across the stream in disorder, and dispersed in all directions.
So far, success had rested principally with the Irish; the Dutch guards
alone remained unbroken in the centre; the French infantry and Danish
horse were broken and destroyed. Old Duke Schomberg exerted himself to
the utmost, to restore the battle at this point, and, having rallied the
French infantry advanced with them, and a few French cavalry, towards the
river, where he was met by some of the Irish horse returning from the
pursuit of the Danes. The old duke was cut down and his party again
routed, and at the same moment Walker, the clerical commander of Derry,
received a mortal wound.
After his successful defence of Derry, this man had gone to London, where
he had been feted and made much of, and had then attached himself to King
William's army, where he posed as a high military authority, although
much discouraged by the king, whom his arrogance and airs of authority
displeased.
While in the centre William's forces were getting worsted, and on his
right Douglas and Count Schomberg were inactive and powerless, he himself
was leading his left wing across the river. The passage was a difficult
one, and the king himself was only extricated, with much exertion, from a
quicksand into which his horse had plunged.
The Irish did not oppose the crossing, and as soon as his forces were
across the stream, William ranged them in order. They consisted of a
large body of Danish, Dutch, and Enniskillen horse, and a considerable
force of infantry. As soon as all were in order the king, though still
suffering from the wound he had received the day before, drew his sword
and put himself at the head of his troops.
The Irish right wing, which consisted chiefly of infantry, moved forward
to meet them, but perceiving the numerous cavalry, led by the king
himself, preparing to take them in flank, they halted, faced about and
marched slowly to the little hill of Donore. Having gained this point,
they again faced round and charged down upon the British, who had
followed them closely.
At this moment the Irish cavalry, who had moved rapidly from the centre
to the support of the right, charged down upon the Danish and Dutch horse
led by the king, and no sooner had they come in contact than the Danes
and Dutch turned and rode off, with the Irish cavalry in pursuit. The
king rode towards the Enniskilleners. Colonel Wolseley told his men that
it was the king, and asked if they wished to follow him. They replied
with a shout, and the king, placing himself at the head, rode towards the
Irish infantry; but as they advanced they were met by a well-directed
volley, and, being much more fond of plundering and slaughtering than of
close fighting, they turned horse and rode away.
Again and again the king rallied his infantry and brought them back to
the fight, but the Irish infantry stood their ground with great
steadiness, until Hamilton, their general, was wounded and taken in a
charge of cavalry. After this, they fell back from Donore upon Duleek in
good order, the enemy not wanting to molest them, and the rest of the
Irish infantry followed their example.
No more singular battle than that of the Boyne was ever fought. In the
morning, at break of day, part of James's army, with most of his
artillery, were in march for the pass of Slane, and actually on their
retreat. The left wing, composed chiefly of French infantry, supposed to
be the best troops in the army, never fired a shot. The centre and right,
composed entirely of Irish, most of whom had never before been in battle,
were alone engaged. With the exception of his Dutch guards, all William's
foreign troops had been repeatedly broken; his cavalry had been driven
off the field by the Irish horse, while no division of the Irish was
broken or suffered a decided defeat, until the infantry from the hill of
Donore were compelled to retreat, which they did in perfect order.
Throughout the day, the Irish cavalry showed a vast superiority to those
of the British, and even broke and destroyed regiments of infantry; and
when the whole army fell back they closed up the rear, and effectually
prevented any attempt at pursuit. Thus, the battle of the Boyne was
fought rather to cover a retreat than defend a position. The loss on
either side was estimated at about five hundred, and General Hamilton was
the only prisoner taken by the British.
The honours of the fight certainly rested with the Irish, who, against a
vastly superior force, comprising some of the best troops in Europe,
maintained themselves throughout the day, and gained, indeed, in most
points, a decided advantage.
King James's valour had entirely evaporated before the first shot was
fired. Instead of following William's example, and leading his troops in
the conflict which was to decide the fate of his crown, and which he
himself had precipitated, he took up his position at a safe distance from
danger, on the hill of Donore, and as soon as the battle approached that
point he rode off to Duleek, where he placed himself at the head of the
French troops, and led their retreat. He soon, however, rode on ahead,
and arrived in Dublin in a state of consternation and despair, the first
fugitive from the field of battle. In the meantime the army was whole and
unbroken, marching in perfect order from the field of battle, while its
king and commander was doing his best to ruin the cause by spreading
dismay and alarm throughout the country.
The next morning the king sent for the mayor and corporation of Dublin,
and told them that he was under the necessity of taking care of himself,
and recommended them to do the same, and to make the best terms they
could with the enemy. He then at once mounted and made his flight to
Waterford, ordering the bridges to be broken down behind him, although
the British army had not yet moved from its position on the Boyne. On
reaching Waterford James at once embarked on board the ship he had
ordered to be in readiness, and sailed for France. His conduct, and his
conduct alone, converted the battle of the Boyne, which was in effect a
kind of drawn battle, into a great victory for William.
It had, indeed, more than answered the object which the Irish commanders
proposed to themselves. Their plan was to accustom the new and badly
armed levies to stand firm against the steadiness and experience of
William's veteran troops, and then to withdraw without committing
themselves to a decisive combat, with a view of protracting the campaign
until William should be forced to leave Ireland, and his foreign army
should be worn out by winter service in an uncongenial climate. Every day
would, they calculated, improve their own army and weaken and reduce that
of the enemy.
Their position at the Boyne enabled them to try their plan of partial
combat to what extent they chose, without danger of being forced into a
more extensive action than they deemed expedient. The Irish troops had
greatly surpassed the expectation of their own officers, and had filled
William's generals with amazement; and it is probable that, if a large
part of the infantry and artillery had not been sent off early in the
day, the experiment might have been turned into a brilliant victory. As
it was, William was so surprised and alarmed at the resistance he had
encountered, that he remained some days at the Boyne without advancing.
He had been told by all, except the Duke of Schomberg, that the
resistance of the Irish would be contemptible, and the most forward of
those who had scoffed at the courage of the Irish had been the
Enniskilleners, who had themselves, on the day of battle, shown so
unmistakably the white feather. After this the king disliked and despised
these troops, and hung them without ceremony, when taken in those acts of
plunder and slaughter to which they were so much addicted.
So far from the flight of King James discouraging the army, it caused
universal joy. It was his constant vacillation, interference, and
cowardly action which had paralysed his troops; and they felt that, now
they were free to act without his interference, they would be able to
cope with the invaders.
William at once offered favourable terms, if Ireland would submit to his
authority; but these were declined, partly owing to the powerful
influence of France, partly to the fear that the terms would not be
observed, partly to the apprehension of all the gentry, that the lands
which they had but just recovered from the hands of Cromwell's settlers
would be again taken from them.
At the battle of the Boyne, Walter Davenant, with his father's troop, had
taken part in all the desperate charges upon the enemy. During the long
hours the battle had lasted, the cavalry had been incessantly engaged.
Time after time they had charged down upon the Dutch squares, and no
sooner had the ranks been reformed, after recoiling from the line of
fixed bayonets, than they were called upon to charge in another
direction.
Walter's heart beat high as they dashed into the midst of the French
infantry, or shattered and drove before them the Danish horse; but there
was little time to think, and, looking back upon the day when all was
over, it seemed to him a chaos of excitement and confusion, of which he
could hardly recall even the chief incidents.
As the troops halted for the night, they were in no way dispirited at the
result of the battle, as the retreat had been begun before a blow was
struck. They knew that it was neither intended nor hoped that the ground
would be successfully held; and every man felt a pride in the thought
that some eighteen thousand newly-raised Irish levies, of whom but a
small portion of the infantry were armed with muskets, had sustained,
throughout a long summer's day, the attacks of more than double their
number of veteran troops, supported by fifty pieces of artillery.
The loss of the Irish horse had been comparatively small. Charging a
square, in the days when the bayonet was fixed in the muzzle of the gun,
was not the desperate undertaking that it now is, when from the hedge of
steel issues a rolling and continuous fire. The French regiment, once
broken, had been cut down with scarce any resistance, while the mercenary
cavalry had been defeated with the greatest ease. Thus, among the brigade
of the Irish horse there were but few fallen friends to mourn, and
nothing to mar the pride that every man felt, in the behaviour of the
Irish troops against such overwhelming odds. That the king had fled,
everyone knew, but the feeling was one of relief.
"His absence is more than a victory to us," Captain Davenant said, as,
with a group of officers, he sat by a fire, made of a fence hastily
pulled down. "His majesty has his virtues, and, with good counsellors,
would make a worthy monarch; but among his virtues military genius is not
conspicuous. I should be glad, myself, if Lauzun and the French would
also take their departure, and let us have Mountcashel's division back
again from France. If we are left to ourselves, with our own generals,
Sarsfield and Mountcashel, we can tire out this continental riffraff that
William has gathered together. The dissensions caused by French
interference have been our ruin, so far; leave us to ourselves, and we
shall do. The Irish today have proved their fighting qualities; and, if
proper use is made of the resources and difficulties of the country, I
defy them to conquer us. I feel more hopeful now than I have done since
the first day we took the field."
"Do you think we shall fight another battle before Dublin, father?"
Walter asked.
"I have no idea what the generals will decide, Walter, but I should
imagine that we shall march to the west. We had a strong position today,
but in the open field, at present, we could not hope to cope with
William's superior numbers and great artillery train. His guns were
little use to him yesterday; but on level ground they would tear our
ranks to pieces, without our being able to make any return. Among the
rivers and bogs and mountains of the west, we should find scores of
places which we could hold against them. Besides, in my opinion we should
not fight pitched battles, but should harass them with continuous marches
and attacks, leaving them masters only of the ground they stand on,
until, at last, we completely wear them out and exhaust them."
"Then you think we shall abandon Dublin altogether?"
"I think so, Walter."
"But will they not persecute the Catholics, when they have them in their
power?"
"There may be some disturbance in the city, Walter, before the English
troops march in; but William will, no doubt, put an end to this as soon
as he arrives. He cannot wish to drive the Catholics of Ireland to
desperation. At any rate, I do not think we need feel at all uneasy about
those at home. Lying on the coast to the east of the town of Dublin, and
altogether out of the track of the movements of troops, there is little
fear of trouble there. In our district there is little preponderance, in
numbers, of one religion over the other; and unless the presence of
troops, or worse, of those savages from Enniskillen or Derry, excite
them, there is little fear of the Protestants of that neighbourhood
interfering with our people, especially as they have no grounds for
complaint in the past. No, I do not think that you need disquiet
yourself, in the slightest, about those at home."
As Captain Davenant had thought probable, the Irish army, after marching
into Dublin in good order, with flags flying and music playing, left on
the following day for the west. They were accompanied by most of the
leading Catholic families; and on their departure the corporation at once
wrote to William, inviting him to enter the capital. Before his arrival,
however, the Protestant mob destroyed a great quantity of property
belonging to the Catholics, and carried their excesses to such a point
that the town would probably have been destroyed by fire, had not the
better classes of Protestants armed themselves, and taken energetic steps
to repress the tumult.
As the troops marched into Dublin, Walter said to Captain Davenant:
"Can I ride over to see how they are at home? They will have heard of the
battle. Mother and grandmother must be terribly anxious."
"I shall be glad for you to go, Walter, for it would greatly ease their
minds at home; but we are to start again, almost immediately, and
probably the whole army will have marched off before you get back in the
morning. There is no saying what may occur, after we have gone. There may
be a general attack upon the Catholics. At any rate, it will be dangerous
in the extreme for a single officer, in our uniform, to be riding through
the town after we have left. Even in the country villages there must be
intense excitement, and anyone in the king's uniform might be fired at,
in passing through any of the Protestant settlements."
"Well, father, suppose I do not start until it gets dark, then I can get
home without attracting notice. There I can put on a suit of my old
clothes, and bring my uniform out in my valise."
"Well, perhaps you might manage in that way, Walter; and I should be very
glad to relieve their minds at home, and to know how they are going on.
If you like, you can stop there for a day or two. I don't suppose that
William will be here with his troops, for a few days. He has learned that
our army is not to be despised, and he may hesitate to advance upon
Dublin, until he receives certain news that we have moved away, and that
he will not have to fight another battle for the possession of the city.
Should you hear that William's troops have arrived in the town, you will
of course make a detour, so as to avoid it, on your way to rejoin us; and
now I will write a letter, at once, for you to take to your mother."
As soon as it was dark, Walter mounted and started for Bray, where he
arrived without molestation on the way. His arrival was an immense relief
to the ladies, who had been suffering an agony of suspense since the news
of the battle had reached them. King James's hurried arrival, and panic
flight to Waterford, had caused the most alarming reports as to the
battle to circulate throughout the country, and by many it was supposed
that his army had been utterly destroyed. Walter's arrival, then, with
the news that his father, as well as himself, had passed through the day
unhurt, was an immense relief; and they were grateful to learn that, so
far from having been routed, the Irish army had accomplished its object,
of fighting the battle and then falling back in perfect order and without
molestation.
"Father says, mother, that he believes next time, when we shall be no
longer hampered by the interference of the king, we shall be able to make
even a better fight of it, especially if, as we all hope, the French
officers will follow the king's example and take themselves off."
"How long are you going to stay, Walter?"
"I shall stay over tomorrow, mother, and start next morning early. I
ought to be able to come up to the army before night, but, if not, I
shall overtake them on the march next day."
"I wish I was older," Godfrey, who had been listening to the account of
the battle, said. "It is so hard to have to stay at home here, while you
and father are having such fun!"
"You would not think it was fun, if you were with us, Godfrey," Walter
said. "I used to think it would be fun, but I don't think so now. Just
while the fighting is going on, one is so excited that one doesn't think
of the danger, but when it is over, it is awful to see the gaps in the
ranks, and to know that so many of those who were riding with you have
fallen, and that it may be your turn, next time."
"Ah, it's all very well for you to talk, Walter, because you are going
through it all, but you would think just the same as I do, if you were in
my place."
"That is true enough, Godfrey. Anyhow, I am glad you are not old enough.
I don't mean that I should not like to have you with us, but then there
would be nobody at home with mother. Now, if anything happens to father
and me, she has got you, and as you grow up you will be able to look
after her, and take care of her. It is bad enough for her having two of
us in the war. It would be worse, still, if there were three."
As, the next evening, Walter heard that there was news that William's
troops had not yet moved from the Boyne, he thought that it was safe to
take the direct road through Dublin. He had laid aside his uniform, on
reaching home, and in the morning started in his civilian clothes, with
the uniform in the valise, strapped behind the saddle. He carried his
sword, as usual, for almost all gentlemen at that time rode armed, and
this would therefore excite neither comment nor attention. He carried
also a brace of pistols, in a belt underneath his coat.
On arriving in Dublin, he found the greatest uproar and excitement
prevailing. Mobs of men were marching through the streets, smashing the
windows of Catholics and sacking the houses. Fortunately, he was warned,
before he got into the thick of the tumult, by meeting some women running
and crying loudly. He asked what was the matter, and learned that their
houses had been sacked, and that any Catholic found in the street was
being beaten and ill treated. As Walter was anxious to avoid anything
which might arrest his journey westward, he made his way out of the town,
as soon as possible, and was heartily glad when he reached the outskirts,
and gave rein to his horse.
He passed many groups of people as he rode. Some were Protestants, making
their way to Dublin to join in the greeting to William and his army, on
their arrival. Others were Catholics, afraid to remain in their abodes
now that the army had retired west, and journeying to the capital, where
they believed that William would prevent disorder and pillage. It needed
no inquiry, as to the religion of the respective groups. The Protestants
were for the most part men, and these came along shouting and waving
their weapons, wild with exultation over the triumph of their cause. The
Catholics were of all ages and both sexes. Many of them had carts, and
were carrying with them their most valued possessions. All wore an
expression of grief and anxiety.
As Walter rode into one village, a fray was going on. A party of
Protestants, riding boisterously along, had knocked down a woman with a
child in her arms, and had answered the angry remonstrance of the
peasants with jeers and laughter. Stones had begun to fly. The
Protestants had drawn their swords; the villagers had caught up hoes,
spades, and other weapons, and a fierce fight was going on. The women,
with shrill cries, encouraged the peasants, and aided them by hurling
stones at the rioters. Walter saw that his interference would be of no
avail, and, with a heavy heart at the bitter hatred which the two parties
in Ireland exhibited for each other, he turned from the road, made a
circuit round the village, and continued his way. After that, he avoided
all towns and villages, and slept at night in the cabin of a peasant,
lying some little distance from the road. The following day he again
pressed on, and before evening overtook the retiring army.
On the arrival of King William with his army in Dublin, a proclamation
was issued assuring all, save those who resisted his authority, of his
protection, and threatening severity against those who disturbed the
peace or committed outrage on personal property. Letters of protection
were granted to all who applied for them and, hearing this, Jabez
Whitefoot at once went into Dublin, to apply for protection for the
family of Captain Davenant. On hearing, however, that no persecution of
Catholics would be allowed, and that the army was likely to march west,
at once, in pursuit of the Irish, he thought it better to leave the
matter alone, as his application would only draw the attention of the
authorities to the fact of Captain Davenant and his son being engaged in
the hostile army. He felt sure that the ladies need fear no molestation,
save from the soldiers or Northerners, as his own influence with the
Protestants of his neighbourhood would suffice to prevent these from
interfering with the household at the castle.
The Irish army marched towards the Shannon, and were concentrated part in
the neighbourhood of Athlone, and part at Limerick. William shortly
prepared to follow them. He, too, divided his army into two columns. The
main body, under his own command, took the road to Limerick; while the
other division, consisting of five regiments of cavalry and twelve of
infantry, was despatched, under the command of General Douglas, for the
purpose of investing the fortress of Athlone.
As the armies marched west, their path was marked by wholesale outrage
and destruction. Although protections were granted to the peasants and
inhabitants of the towns and villages through which the armies marched,
they were entirely disregarded by the soldiers, who plundered, ill used,
and sometimes murdered the defenceless people, carrying away without
payment all provisions on which they could lay their hands.
The king sometimes hanged those who were caught in these acts of plunder
and slaughter, but this had but little effect. The Dutch soldiers, alone,
maintained their order and discipline. The foreign mercenaries, composed
for the most part of the sweepings of the great cities, behaved with a
brutality and cruelty almost without example, and which was acknowledged
by all the historians of the time, Protestant as well as Catholic.
Indeed, the Protestant inhabitants suffered even more than the Catholics,
for many of the latter fled at the approach of the army, while the
Protestants, regarding them as friends and deliverers, remained quietly
at home, and suffered every insult and outrage at the hands of this horde
of savages, who were perfectly indifferent as to the religion of those
they plundered.
Captain Davenant's troop was with the force which had retired to Athlone,
and there awaited the approach of the column of General Douglas. The
reports of the conduct of the enemy, that were brought in by the flying
peasants, filled the Irish troops with indignation and rage, and when, on
arriving before the town, General Douglas sent a messenger to demand its
surrender, Colonel Grace, who commanded, only replied by firing a pistol
towards him.
Athlone stood on either side of the Shannon. The town on the eastern bank
of the river was called "the English town," that on the western "the
Irish "--a distinction existing in many of the Irish towns, where the
early English settlers found it expedient to live apart from the Irish,
for mutual protection against attack. Colonel Grace had retired to the
west bank of the river, which was strongly fortified, destroying the
English town and breaking down part of the bridge across the river.
The garrison consisted of three regiments of foot and nine troops of
horse; and when Douglas erected his batteries and opened fire on the
castle, they replied briskly, and their guns got the better of those in
the batteries. A strong detachment of horse and mounted grenadiers was
sent by Douglas to Lanesborough, some miles north of the town, with
orders to pass the river at that point, but the post was held by Irish
troops, who easily repulsed the attempt.
It was next proposed to pass the river at a ford a short distance from
the bridge; but the troops had little heart for the enterprise, as the
ford was covered by field works erected by the Irish.
The assailants were already reduced to considerable straits. They had
consumed all provisions found in the town, plundering without mercy the
Protestant inhabitants, who had been well treated by the Irish troops,
while the conduct of the army effectually deterred the country people
from bringing in provisions.
The circulation of the report that General Sarsfield, with fifteen
thousand men, was on the march to cut off the besiegers of Athlone,
determined General Douglas to make a speedy retreat. In his fear of being
cut off, he abandoned all his heavy baggage, and, quitting the high road,
made his way by unfrequented routes, which added to the hardships of the
march. In its retreat, the column was accompanied by the unhappy
Protestant inhabitants, who feared to remain behind, lest the Irish
should retaliate upon them the sufferings which had been inflicted upon
their countrymen.
In the meantime, the main English army had done but little. In Dublin, a
commission had been appointed to examine into and forfeit the lands of
all Catholics, and adherents of King James, and having set this machine
at work, the king proceeded with his army southward through Carlow,
Kilkenny, and Waterford, all of which places surrendered, the garrisons
being allowed to march out, with their arms and baggage, to join their
main army on the Shannon.
At Waterford, the king received such serious news as to the state of
things in England, that he determined to return home. On arriving at
Dublin, he was overwhelmed with petitions from the inhabitants, as to the
shameful conduct of the troops left in garrison there, especially those
of Trelawney's, Schomberg's, and some other regiments of horse, who, the
people complained, treated them, although Protestants, far worse than
James's Catholic soldiers had done. Inquiry showed these complaints to be
well founded, and, finding it impossible to restore order and discipline
among them, the king at once sent these regiments back to England.
Then, receiving better news from home, he again started to rejoin his
army, and marched towards Limerick, being joined on his way by the
division under Douglas, which had driven along with them all the cattle
and horses of the country through which they had passed.
Limerick was, at that time, the second city in Ireland. The country, for
a long distance along the mouth of the Shannon, was much wooded, but in
the immediate vicinity of the town it was surrounded by thick inclosures,
houses, orchards, gardens, and plantations. The cultivated land was
everywhere divided into small fields, inclosed by hedges and intersected
by lanes. To the east of the town the Shannon divides itself, forming an
island on which part of the city is situated.
This was called the English town, and was connected by a bridge, called
Thomond Bridge, with the Clare side of the river on the north; and on the
south, by another bridge, with the Irish town on the county of Limerick
side. The Thomond Bridge was defended by a strong fort and some field
works on the Clare side, and on the city side by a drawbridge, flanked by
towers and the city walls. The bridge was very long and narrow.
The position of the English town was, indeed, almost impregnable. It was
built upon a rock of considerable extent, and the land outside the walls
was low and marshy, and could at any time be flooded. The Shannon was
broad and rapid. The Irish town on the Limerick shore was not strong,
being defended only by ordinary walls. If this were captured, however,
the English town could still hold out.
The king made his approaches to the city slowly, being obliged to level
the numerous inclosures as he moved on. These were occupied by the Irish
infantry, who, lining every hedge, kept up a galling fire, falling back
gradually as heavy bodies of troops were brought up against them, until
they reached the cover of the guns of the city and fort. Upon these
opening fire, William's army halted and encamped before the Irish town.
Here, as at the Boyne, the king had a narrow escape, a cannonball from
the walls striking the ground at his foot as he was passing through a gap
in a hedge.
The king had learned that great dissensions existed between the Irish and
French, and relied upon this, as much as upon the strength of his arms,
to obtain possession of the city. His information was, indeed, correct.
King James, in his flight, had left no orders as to who should assume the
supreme command. The Duke of Berwick had considerable claims. Lauzun and
the French officers declined altogether to receive orders from
Tyrconnell, and the Irish officers equally objected to act under the
command of a Frenchman. Consequently, during the whole siege, the main
Irish army, which, by acting upon William's rear, could speedily have
made his position untenable, remained inactive. Monsieur Boileau, a
French officer, was governor of the town, but Lauzun, having examined the
fortifications, pronounced the place wholly incapable of defence,
declaring that the walls could be knocked down with roasted apples, and
so ordered the entire French division to march to Galway, and there await
an opportunity for embarking for France, leaving the Irish to defend the
city if they chose.
Lauzun, in fact, was a courtier, not a soldier. He desired to get back to
Versailles at any hazard, and had so inspired his officers and men with
his own sentiments that there was a general cry among them to be recalled
to France. They had, indeed, no interest in the cause in which they
fought. They looked with contempt at their half-armed and half-trained
allies, and they grumbled continually at the hardships which they had to
undergo. It was indeed an evil day, for King James's cause, when he
exchanged Mountcashel's fine division for these useless allies, who,
throughout the war, not only did no service, but were the cause of
endless dissension and disaster.
As soon as King William had taken up his position in front of Limerick,
he sent a summons to Boileau to surrender. The latter consulted with
Tyrconnell, Sarsfield, and some other officers, for, even to the last
moment, it was a question whether the place should be defended.
At last, however, a decision was made. The reply was addressed to
William's secretary, Sir Robert Roultwell, as Boileau could not
acknowledge the prince as king, and was too polite to hurt his feelings
by a denial of the royal title. He expressed great surprise at the
summons he had received, and said that he hoped to merit the good opinion
of the Prince of Orange better by a vigorous defence, than by a shameful
surrender, of the fortress which had been committed to his charge by his
master King James the Second.
The king's camp was now formed in regular order; he himself taking his
place on its right, having near him the Horse Guards, and the Blue Dutch
Guards, who were always his main reliance. To the left of these were the
English and Dutch regiments, further on the French and Danes, while the
Brandenburghers and other German regiments formed the extreme left of the
line. To their great satisfaction, the post assigned to the Danes was one
of the rude circular redoubts called, in Ireland, Danish forts, and
probably constructed by their own far-off ancestors.