Two or three days later, Captain Davenant returned to Limerick with his
troop. He had stopped at the house on his way, and learned there of the
move which had been made.
"Well, Walter, so you nearly had to defend Mrs. Conyers against odds,
again," he said, as Walter joined him in the marketplace, where the troop
was dismounting. "I have come here for a day, only, for we are on our way
south. It is thought likely that the enemy's next move may be against
Cork, so some of us are detached in that direction.
"To my mind," he went on, after he had seen the troop quartered, in some
houses which formerly belonged to the Protestants, but were now used as
barracks--"in my opinion, we are wasting precious time. We ought not to
allow the enemy to go into winter quarters. Our best season is just
coming on. We can stand the wet far better than they can, and we ought
not to give them a moment's rest, but should keep our army together, and
beat up one garrison after another; threaten the strongest places; compel
them to keep constantly on the move; and, before the spring, completely
wear out and exhaust those whom we cannot conquer. If England found that
she had the whole work to begin over again, she would think twice before
she went further.
"These petty German princes would not find their men so ready to embark
in a quarrel, with which they have no concern, when they learned that all
who had done so had laid their bones in the swamps of Ireland, and,
without his mercenaries, William would find it hard to gather an army,
for the English themselves have no heart whatever in the war. If we
remain inactive all the winter, and enable them to retain their foothold
everywhere, fresh reinforcements will arrive in the spring, and so, bit
by bit, all Ireland will be won.
"It is disheartening in the extreme, after seeing the enemy retire,
repulsed and utterly disheartened, from Athlone and Limerick, to allow
them unmolested to rest and gather strength again. If we could but get
rid of the French, there would be some hope for us. They have scarce
fired a shot, since the war began, and yet they assume superiority over
our generals. They thwart us at every turn. They not only refuse to
combine in any action, but they prevent our doing so.
"Since the Boyne, our army has lain inactive and has done nothing,
although they might have done everything. All Ireland was open to them,
on the day when William, with all his forces, sat down here before
Limerick. Why, they could have marched straight for Dublin and captured
it, before William heard that they had crossed the Shannon. They might
have cut off his supplies from Waterford. They might have starved him out
in his camp here. They have had the game in their hands, and they have
allowed it to slip altogether through their fingers. The only hope I
have, now, is that before the spring the French will go. It is but too
clear that Louis has no intention, whatever, of helping us in earnest.
Had he chosen he could, any time during the last six months, have landed
an army here, which would have decided the struggle. Instead of that, he
has sent five thousand men, and had in return as many of our best
soldiers; and the officers he sent seem to have been furnished with
secret instructions, not only to do nothing themselves, but to prevent us
from doing anything."
"Whom would you like to see in command, father?"
"I should not care much, Walter, so that it was one man. I had rather
have any soldier you might take at random from our army, so that he
possessed a fair share of common sense, than the chaos which now
prevails; but, of course, the man whom we would rather have is Sarsfield.
Whether he is a great general or not, we have no means of knowing, for he
has never yet had the slightest opportunity of showing it; but I do not
think, myself, that he has made the most of what chances he has had, save
that one dash against the artillery convoy. He has done nothing; and, as
the cavalry are under his command, and he could, if he chose, snap his
fingers at the pretensions of the French and act independently, I think
he might have done far more than he has done. Still, he is our most
prominent leader, and he possesses the confidence of the Irish of all
classes. If he were in supreme command there would, I am sure, be a
complete change in our tactics. Instead of waiting everywhere to be
attacked, we should take the offensive, and, even if we were unable to
meet William's forces in pitched battles, and I believe that we are
perfectly capable of doing so, we should be able to harass and exhaust
them, to such a point that William would be only too glad to grant us any
terms we might demand, to bring the war to an end."
After having dined, Captain Davenant went with Walter to call upon Mrs.
Conyers. Hearing that he was about to march with his troop to Cork, Mrs.
Conyers said:
"Oh, Captain Davenant, will you not take us under your protection there?
I am afraid of travelling with Claire to Galway, in the present disturbed
state of the country, and I should find it easier to take a passage to
England from Cork than from Galway."
"You certainly would, Mrs. Conyers. There is no formal war between
England and Ireland, and trading vessels still ply between Cork and
Bristol. I agree with you that it would not be safe for two Protestant
ladies to travel, without protection, from here to Galway, and I shall be
only too glad for you to journey with us. Your daughter, I know, can ride
any of the country ponies; and for yourself--"
"I can ride, too, if there is an occasion. One of our horses is perfectly
quiet, and I have often ridden him by the side of Mr. Conyers, so there
will be no difficulty on that score."
"In that case," Captain Davenant said, "consider the matter as arranged.
Will you be ready to start tomorrow, early?"
"Certainly, Captain Davenant; I have no preparations to make. All our
furniture--which, thanks to Walter, was saved--has been stowed away in
the cellars of a warehouse here, and is safe unless William returns and
batters the whole town to pieces. The silver and other valuables our
friends here will take care of, till better times, so we have only to
pack two valises and mount. The servants will all find situations here.
My daughter's maid, Bridget, and two or three others have offered to
accompany us to England, but we have decided to take no one. Directly we
get to Bristol, I shall write to my husband, who has given me an address
both in London and Dublin, so that he will doubtless join us in a very
short time."
The party started the next morning, and reached Cork without adventure,
as there were no English troops in that part of the country. Three days
after their arrival, Mrs. Conyers took a passage for herself and Claire
in a trader about to sail for Bristol. The evening before they sailed,
Mrs. Conyers had a long talk with Captain Davenant, while the two young
people had slipped off for a last walk together.
"Of course, Captain Davenant," she began, "you have seen, as well as I
have, how things stand between Claire and Walter. They are both very
young, but the strange circumstances of the times, and the manner in
which they have been thrown together, have combined to render their
position peculiar, and I believe, nay, I am sure, that on both sides
their affection is deep and will be lasting."
"I quite agree with you, Mrs. Conyers, at any rate as far as my son is
concerned. Walter has never spoken to me on the subject. I suppose
fathers and sons are less given to confidences of this sort than mothers
and daughters. But that Walter is deeply and earnestly attached to your
daughter is unquestionable, and, indeed, it would be singular were it
otherwise. I have stood passive in the matter, simply because I saw that
you took no steps to keep them apart; and you could not but have seen, at
an early period of their acquaintance, in what direction matters were
tending."
"Frankly," Mrs. Conyers said, "I gave the matter no thought, during your
first stay with us. I had regarded Claire as a child, and it did not, at
first, occur to me that there could be any danger of her falling
seriously in love, for years to come. When my eyes were opened to the
true state of things, and I found my little girl had lost her heart, I
could have wished it otherwise.
"I do not mean as to worldly matters," she went on hastily, seeing that
Captain Davenant was about to speak. "That weighed absolutely nothing
with me. Indeed, they may be considered to be well matched in that
respect. If the war is decided in favour of King William, Claire will be
a rich heiress. If, on the other hand, your cause triumph, you will
regain your confiscated estates, while we shall lose ours. So that there
is, I consider, no inequality whatever in their position. The difficulty,
of course, to which I allude is their religion. This is naturally a grave
obstacle, and I fear that my husband will regard it as such, even more
strongly than I do. He is, however, extremely attached to Claire, and
will, I feel sure, when he sees that her happiness is at stake, come
round to my views of the matter.
"There are," she said with a smile, "Catholics and Catholics, just as
there are Protestants and Protestants. I would rather see Claire in her
grave than married to many Catholics I know; but neither you nor Walter
are bigots."
"No, indeed," Captain Davenant said. "We came over to this country when
Catholicism was the religion of all England, and we have maintained the
religious belief of our fathers. I own that what I may call political
Protestantism is hateful to me; but between such Catholicism as mine, and
such Protestantism as yours, I see no such broad distinctions as should
cause us to hate each other."
"That is just my view," Mrs. Conyers agreed. "The differences between the
creeds are political rather than religious, and, in any case, I consider
that when neither of the parties is bigoted, the chances of happiness are
greater in the case where the man is a Catholic and the woman a
Protestant, than in the opposite case."
"I think so, too," Captain Davenant said. "At any rate, I do not think
that Walter and Claire would be likely to quarrel over their respective
opinions."
"I think not," Mrs. Conyers agreed with a smile. "I do wish, with all my
heart, that it had been otherwise; but, as it is not so, I for my part am
determined to make the best of the circumstances. They are both young,
and it is possible that they may, in time, come to think alike, one way
or the other. I am not one of those who think that there is but one way
to heaven; and, should Walter some day win Claire over to his way of
thinking, I shall not consider that she has forfeited her chances."
"It is quite as likely to be the other way," Captain Davenant said.
"Walter is a good lad, and a brave one, but, with all Claire's pretty
winning ways, I question if the young lady has not more will of her own,
and more mind, than Walter has. I hope they may agree each to go their
own way, and I think that, if they continue to live in this country, they
will probably do so, for here, unhappily, political differences build up
a wall between the two branches of Christianity. But, if it should come
that they should some day leave this unhappy country, and settle in
England, where the same ill feeling does not exist, there is no saying
what may happen."
"Well, at any rate, Captain Davenant, it is satisfactory that our views
on the subject agree, and that we are both willing to make the best of
what we cannot but consider to be a misfortune. But here come the young
people. I have no doubt," she laughed, "that they have been swearing vows
of eternal fidelity."
"Well, we were young ourselves, once, and we are not too old, yet, Mrs.
Conyers, to feel enjoyment in the happiness of these young people."
The next morning, Mrs. Conyers and Claire sailed for England, and the
military events, which shortly afterwards took place, left Walter little
time for thought on other subjects.
On the 21st of September, two days after the departure of Mrs. Conyers, a
heavy cannonading was heard from the forts at the mouth of Cork harbour,
and, soon afterwards, a horseman galloped into the town with the news
that an English fleet had forced the entrance, in spite of the fire from
the forts. This fleet bore five thousand men, under the command of the
Earl of Marlborough.
The English party at court had long been mortified and disgusted at the
manner in which the English had been ignored by William, and all the
military commands bestowed upon foreigners. The discontent, caused by the
want of success which had attended the operations in Ireland, had greatly
strengthened this party, and they had now succeeded in getting an
independent English expedition sent off, under the command of an English
general. William was much annoyed at this, for any brilliant success
attained by Marlborough would have increased the feeling against his
foreign favourites. He had, therefore, despatched the division of General
Scravenmore to besiege the town on the land side, and had placed in
command of it the Duke of Wirtemberg, whose rank as a prince, and as a
general of higher rank than Marlborough, would enable him to claim the
supreme command, and to carry off the honour of any success that might be
gained.
This force arrived before the town, within a day of the appearance of the
fleet. Marlborough had already made good use of his time, for immediately
the leading vessels had effected the passage, troops were landed in
boats, and the batteries attacked in rear and carried. The rest of the
fleet then entered, and, on the 23rd and 24th, the troops were landed on
the south bank of the river, and commenced their march towards the city,
the sailors dragging the guns. Wirtemberg immediately sent to
Marlborough, to claim the command of the whole force.
Marlborough replied that his commission was an independent one. He denied
the authority of any of William's foreign officers in Ireland, and stated
haughtily that his troops were British, and he a British officer.
Wirtemberg was greatly offended that the English general should affect to
look down upon the Danes, Germans, French, and other foreign ragamuffins
who composed his command, and he insisted strongly upon his claims.
Marlborough maintained his position, and Wirtemberg was driven, at last,
to propose that they should command on alternate days, and Marlborough
agreed to the proposal.
The position of Cork was not a strong one, although, in the days before
the use of artillery, it was considered well-nigh impregnable, being
built upon the islands and marshes formed by the river Lea, and
completely surrounded by two branches of the river. But upon three sides
it was surrounded, at a short distance only, by high hills, which
completely commanded it, and these hills were defended only by castles
and forts of no great strength.
The garrison was but small, for the Irish were taken by surprise by the
arrival of Marlborough's expedition, and had prepared only for a siege by
Wirtemberg and his foreign division. They were therefore obliged to
abandon Shandon Castle, and two adjoining forts, which defended the hills
on the north of the city, and Wirtemberg's Danes at once took possession
of these works, and, planting their guns there, opened fire on the
northern quarter of the city.
Marlborough constructed his batteries at a monastery called the Red
Abbey, on the south point of the river, where he was separated from the
city only by the stream and narrow strip of marshy ground. These guns
soon made a breach in the walls, and Marlborough prepared to storm the
place, for, at low tide, it was possible to wade across the marsh and
river.
The garrison, well aware that they could not long defend the place, now
offered to capitulate on the same terms which William had granted to the
garrisons of towns he had captured; namely, that they should be allowed
to march out with the honours of war, with their arms and baggage, and to
make their way unmolested to Limerick. The Prince of Wirtemberg was
strongly in favour of these terms being granted, but Marlborough
peremptorily refused. While a sharp dispute took place between the two
officers, and before any conclusion could be arrived at, the tide rose,
and the regiments drawn up ready to cross the river could no longer pass.
The firing then recommenced on both sides. Notwithstanding the efforts of
the besieged to repair the injury to their wall, the breach daily
increased in size. Wirtemberg moved his forces round from the north side,
to take their share in the assault, and at low tide the English and Danes
advanced against the breach. Under a heavy fire from the walls, they
struggled through the marshes and entered the river, which, even at low
tide, reached to their shoulders. Suffering heavily from the fire, they
pushed forward until they nearly reached the breach. Here the Duke of
Grafton, who commanded the British column, fell dead, with many officers
and men; but the rest maintained their order, and were about to make a
dash at the breach, when the governor, accompanied by Lord Tyrone, raised
the white flag.
After a short parley, it was agreed that the garrison should become
prisoners of war, but were to be protected in their persons and private
property. The city was to be preserved from any injury, and the citizens
and their property were to be respected.
Captain Davenant's troop had remained idle, during the siege, as there
was no work for cavalry. They were quartered near an infantry regiment,
which had been raised by MacFinn O'Driscol from among his own tenantry,
and was commanded by him. O'Driscol was a relation of Mrs. Davenant, and
the two commanders were often together. Both felt that the city must
speedily fall, unless the Irish army moved down to its relief; but they
agreed that, if it surrendered, they would make an effort to escape with
their troops, for they had no faith in the observance of any terms of
capitulation which might be made.
Accordingly, as soon as it was known that the governor had surrendered,
and that the gates of the town were to be handed over to the British,
O'Driscol and Captain Davenant formed up their commands, and, opening one
of the gates, marched boldly out. The exact terms on which the garrison
had surrendered were not known, and Marlborough and Wirtemberg were near
the breach, arranging for the troops to take possession of the gates on
that side. Consequently, the besieging forces opposite the gate from
which the little column had marched out supposed that, in accordance with
the arrangement, they were coming out to lay down their arms. They
therefore stood aside as the column passed, being far more intent upon
the plunder they expected to gather, in Cork, than on anything else. As,
a few minutes later, the gates were opened and the troops poured into the
city, no further thought was given to the little force which had marched
out; and the five hundred infantry, and the troop of horse, were safe
from pursuit before the news of the audacious ruse they had practised
reached the ears of the generals.
Inside the town, the articles of the treaty were at once violated. The
troops entered the town in crowds, and, incited, as in Dublin, by a mob
calling themselves Protestants, they proceeded to plunder the houses and
assault the Catholic inhabitants. The governor, M'Carty, was wounded. The
Earls of Tyrone and Clancarty, with difficulty, made their escape from
the mob. Many were killed, and a great destruction of property took
place, before Marlborough and Wirtemberg entered the town and put a stop
to the disorder, which inflicted great discredit upon them, as they had
made no arrangements, whatever, to ensure the safety of the inhabitants,
which they had solemnly guaranteed.
It was now October, and Marlborough at once set about the investment of
Kinsale. On the very evening of the day he entered Cork, he sent off five
hundred horse towards that town, and the next day marched thither himself
at the head of his infantry. The works of Kinsale consisted of two forts,
both of considerable strength, called the Old Fort and Charles's Fort.
They were well supplied with stores and provisions for a siege. On the
approach of the besiegers, the governor set fire to the town and retired
to the forts, and, in answer to the summons to surrender, replied that
"it would be time enough to talk about that a month hence."
Marlborough ordered General Tettau to cross the river in boats, with
eight hundred picked men, and to carry Old Fort by storm. The assault was
made with great determination and bravery; but the works were strong and
stoutly defended, and the British were about to fall back, discomfited,
when fortune came to their assistance. Some loose powder ignited and
fired the magazine, by which more than two hundred men of the garrison
were killed, and the works seriously injured. After this disaster, the
governor abandoned the fort and withdrew, with the survivors of its
garrison, to Charles's Fort. Marlborough at once commenced the siege of
this position, but for fifteen days the place resisted all his efforts.
The heavy loss, however, which the garrison had suffered by the explosion
in Old Fort, rendered them unable, by sallies, to interfere with the
works of the besiegers. These were carried on with great vigour, for
Marlborough feared that the approach of the wet season would put a stop
to his operations.
When, therefore, the governor offered to surrender, on the terms of his
being permitted "to march away with his garrison, their arms, baggage,
and all the honours of war, taking with them all persons who wished to
accompany them, together with their property, to Limerick," Marlborough
at once granted the terms demanded.
The advent of winter now put a stop to regular operations; but a war of
skirmishes continued, and the British, in their quarters, were greatly
straitened for forage and provisions. In Dublin, the work of confiscation
went on merrily. The greater part of the Catholic proprietors of the town
were thrown into prison. The various indictments against country
gentlemen, followed by the confiscation of their property, were hurried
through the court with the merest shadow of legal form; for, the
defendants being absent and unacquainted with what was being done in
Dublin, it was only necessary to recite the accusation to find the
accused guilty, and to pass sentence of confiscation--all this being the
work of a few minutes only.
Nothing could be done, however, to carry the sentences into effect, for
William's troops still possessed only the ground the troops stood upon,
and the towns they occupied. Outside those limits, the whole country was
against them. The Earl of Marlborough had returned to England,
immediately after the surrender of Kinsale; and General Ginckle, who had
now succeeded to the command, determined to harass the enemy, and to
increase the resources at his disposal by an expedition into the
southwest of Ireland, which, covered by Cork and Limerick, had hitherto
been free from the presence of any English troops. He therefore pushed a
strong body of cavalry and infantry westward from Cork and Kinsale; and
these succeeded in making themselves masters of Castle Haven, Baltimore,
Bantry, and several other castles on the line of coast. The district was
wild and mountainous, and the passes might have been easily held against
the advance; but the peasants had not been organized for resistance, and
no serious opposition was encountered.
Colonel O'Driscol, a cousin of MacFinn O'Driscol, and Captain O'Donovan,
two of the principal proprietors of the neighbourhood, soon arrived upon
the spot, and assembled a large irregular force, consisting chiefly of
mounted peasants; and with these they soon cooped the invaders up in the
castles they had taken. O'Driscol next attempted the recovery of his own
Castle Haven, which was strongly defended, and stood on a cliff
overhanging the sea; but his wild peasants were ill adapted for such
work, and they were repulsed by the English garrison, and O'Driscol
himself killed. But another force was advancing from the north. MacFinn
O'Driscol, with his regiment, pressed forward along the line of Bandon
river, besieged and captured Castle Haven, and expelled the English
garrisons from Baltimore and Bantry.
General Tettau had also marched out from Cork with several regiments of
infantry and dragoons, with the intention of penetrating into Kerry; but
the enemy's light troops harassed him night and day, wasted the country,
and defended every pass; and he was obliged to return to Cork, without
having accomplished anything. All this time Ginckle was urging upon the
lord justices, who were now the real ruling party in Ireland, to issue a
proclamation offering pardon and security for person and property to all
who came in; urging that it was impossible that he could ever subdue the
country, while the whole population had everything at stake in opposing
him.
He was supported by King William, who was most anxious to bring the
struggle to an end; but the lord justices, and the Protestant party at
Dublin, who were bent upon dividing among themselves the property of the
Catholics throughout Ireland, turned a deaf ear to the arguments of
Ginckle, and their friends in London had sufficient power to prevent the
king from insisting upon his own wishes being carried into effect.
After taking part in the operations in Kerry, Captain Davenant's troop
returned to Limerick, around which city the greater part of the Irish
army were still encamped.