CHAPTER XII.

REIGN OF WILLIAM AND MARY.

Accession of William and Mary--Discontent of the Church and

the Army--William's First Ministry--His Dutch Followers--The

Convention becomes a Parliament--Oath of Allegiance--Settlement

of the Revenue--Suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act--The Mutiny

Bill--Settlement of Religion--The Coronation--Declaration of War

with France--Violence of the Revolution in Scotland--Parties

in the Scottish Parliament--Letter from James--Secession of

Dundee--Edinburgh in Arms--Settlement of the Government--Dundee

in the Highlands--Battle of Killiecrankie--Mackay Concludes

the War--The Revolution in Ireland--Panic among the

Englishry--Londonderry and Enniskillen Garrisoned--Negotiations

of Tyrconnel--His Temporary Success--Landing of James--He Enters

Dublin--His Journey into Ulster--The Siege of Londonderry--It

is Saved--Legislation of the Irish Parliament--Arrival of

Schomberg--Factiousness of the English Whigs--State of the English

Army in Ireland--Renewed Violence of the Whigs--The Corporation

Act Thrown Out--William Threatens to Leave England--Dissolution

of Parliament--Tory Reaction--Venality of the New

Parliament--Settlement of the Revenue--Whig Propositions--The Act

of Grace--Preparations for War--A Jacobite Plot--William goes to

Ireland--Progress of the War under Schomberg--Gradual Improvement

of his Position and Ruin of the Jacobite Army--The Battle of the

Boyne--Flight of James--William Enters the Irish Capital--News

from England--Siege of Limerick--Battle of Beachy Head--Landing of

the French in Torbay--Courage of the English People--Settlement

of Scotland--Marlborough's Successes in Ireland--Parliament

Grants Liberal Supplies--Preston's Plot Thwarted--William

Sets Out for Holland--Vigour of Louis--Fall of Mons--Trial of

Jacobite Conspirators--Treason in High Places--Punishment of the

Non-Jurors--The Continental Campaign--Condition of Ireland--Arrival

of St. Ruth--Siege of Athlone--Battle of Aghrim--Second Siege and

Capitulation of Limerick.

William of Orange had now fully succeeded in his enterprise. By the

resolution of the two Houses of Parliament on the 13th of February,

1689, he was admitted to hold the Crown for his life in conjunction

with his wife, who was not merely queen consort, but queen regnant.

They were declared to be elected to that office and dignity by the free

choice of the nation. They could neither of them claim the Crown by

direct succession, for James was alive, and protesting against the idea

of his abdication. Mary could not claim by succession, even if James

had abdicated; for, although there had been much endeavour to prove

the infant son of James a supposititious child, the effort had failed.

There was no sufficient proof of the fact, but much evidence against

it; and nobody now doubts that the infant who afterwards acquired the

name of the Pretender was the real son of James and the queen. Had the

right of succession been admitted, neither William nor Mary could have

succeeded; but this right was now, in fact, denied. The right for the

subjects to elect their own monarchs was proclaimed by the Bill of

Rights; and by that right, and no other, William and Mary sat on the

English throne.

But splendid as was the position which William had achieved--that of

the monarch of one of the very first kingdoms of the world--his throne

was no bed of roses. The Catholics and the Tories still retained their

old leaning towards James. True, many of the Tories had been greatly

embittered against James by his later measures, but now that he was

deposed, and a monarch sat on the throne who had been notoriously

brought in by the Whigs, a strong reaction took place in them. They

professed surprise at William assuming the sceptre; they pretended

that they had expected from his declaration that he intended only to

assist them in bringing James to reason, and in putting him under

proper constitutional restraints. Numbers of them were already in

full correspondence with the banished prince. The clergy were equally

disaffected. They had resisted the attempts of James to bring in

Popery, but they had now got a Presbyterian king, and were not very

sanguine of his support of the hierarchy.

[Illustration: KENSINGTON PALACE. (_From a Photograph by F. G. O.

Stuart, Southampton._)]

Similar feelings prevailed in the army. It had been powerful in

numbers, but had done nothing to withstand a foreign prince at the head

of foreign troops marching through the country, and placing himself on

the throne. They had not been exactly defeated, because they had not

come to a regular engagement; but they saw a foreign prince, supported

by his foreign troops, presiding in the country; and though not beaten,

they felt humbled, and were now as near to mutiny as they had been

ready to revolt under James.

As for the Whig party, which had invited and supported William, they

were only eager for office and emolument. It was not patriotism in the

bulk of them which animated them, but the triumph of their party; and

they thought that nothing could ever pay them for the favour they had

conferred on William. The accounts of those writers who were present

and cognisant of their proceedings represent them as clamorous for

place, honour, and emolument, no one thinking that William could do

enough for them, and every one ready to upbraid him for giving to

others those posts to which they thought they were more entitled.

His first public measure was to announce that all Protestant subjects

who were in office on the 1st of December last should retain their

posts till further notice. On the 17th of February he published

the list of his Privy Council, which contained men of almost all

parties--Danby, Halifax, and even old Sancroft, the Archbishop of

Canterbury, in order to show the Church that its interests would be

protected. This and all other endeavours, however, failed to win over

the High Church prelate.

If some of the members of the Council gazed at each other in

astonishment to find themselves included in one body, still more

was that the case with the Ministry. Danby, though a Tory, was made

President of the Council; but whilst this offended others, who

remembered that he had opposed the idea of the throne being vacant,

though he had resisted the appointment of a regency, he himself was

woefully disappointed in not receiving the White Staff. But William

neither now nor till the end of his reign entrusted the office of Lord

High Treasurer to a single person, but put it in commission. On the

other hand, Halifax, who had not joined William's party till the last

moment, received again the Privy Seal, and was continued Speaker of

the House of Lords, to the great disgust of the Whigs, who remembered

how long he had deserted them, and how successfully he had opposed

them on the question of the Exclusion Bill. To add to their chagrin,

the Earl of Nottingham was made Secretary of State. Nottingham had

been foremost amongst those who had maintained the doctrine of passive

obedience; who had denied that the throne could for an instant become

vacant; who had declined to give up James or to call in William, but

had also led this party in submitting to the decision of the Convention

in favour of William and Mary, on the ground that we are enjoined

by the New Testament to be subject to the powers that be. The other

Secretary, the Earl of Shrewsbury, was indeed a Whig, and in the

highest favour with that party. He had been foremost in calling in

William; but then he was a mere youth, only eight-and-twenty years of

age. Admiral Herbert expected to be appointed Lord High Admiral, and to

have the entire control of the Admiralty; but he had the mortification

to see a number of others placed at the Board of Admiralty to share

his authority, though he bore nominally the name of First Lord of it.

Churchill expected to be made Master of the Ordnance for his treason to

James; but William had too certain evidence that he was at this very

moment a traitor to himself; was in correspondence with the Court of

St. Germain's, and believed that he would be one of the first to run

if any future success warranted a hope of James's restoration. He

was therefore appointed only to a post in the household, along with

Devonshire, Mordaunt, Oxford, Dorset, Lovelace, and others; whilst the

gallant foreigner Schomberg was made Master of the Ordnance.

Whilst the leaders, therefore, were deeply disappointed, all aspirants

to favour were extremely jealous of the three staunch Dutch adherents

of William--Bentinck, Overkirk, and Zulestein--whom William kept

about him with a very natural feeling, for they had been faithful

to him through all his arduous struggles in his own country, and

were now, indeed, almost the only men in whom he could put implicit

confidence. The main thing in which Danby, Halifax, Nottingham, and

Shrewsbury agreed was in complaining that William did not make them

his confidants, but preferred the secret advice of Bentinck, whom he

soon made Earl of Portland, and the counsel of Sidney, whom he created

Lord Sidney. William had but too much cause for keeping the knowledge

of his thoughts and intentions from those around him, for many amongst

his privy councillors and chief ministers would have betrayed them at

once to the exiled monarch. Danby had been heard to say, even after

James had quitted England, that if he would only abandon his priests,

he might come back again; and others besides Churchill were in regular

traitorous correspondence with James's Court. With all William's

caution, not a thing was discussed in his council but was immediately

transmitted to St. Germain's. To his trusty countrymen already

mentioned William gave profitable offices near his person. His great

friend Bentinck was made Groom of the Stole, with five thousand pounds

a year; Overkirk Master of the Horse; and Zulestein had charge of the

robes.

These arrangements being made, on the 18th of February, William,

for the first time, addressed the two Houses of Parliament. It is

remarkable that the very subject which he introduced to them was a

demand for liberal supplies to carry on the war on the Continent. He

had, he said, no choice in the matter, as France had already begun war

on England.

William reminded them, too, that their domestic affairs would demand

serious attention, and especially the condition of Ireland, where a

strong feeling was known to exist for the fallen dynasty, through the

interests of the Catholic religion. He exhorted them, moreover, to

take immediate measures for securing the despatch of business. This

alluded to the settlement of the great question whether the Convention

could continue to sit legally after the deposition of the monarch who

had called it. The question had been debated in the Council, and now,

on the king's retiring, the lords immediately laid on the table of

the House a Bill declaring the Convention a valid Parliament. It was

speedily carried and sent down to the Commons; but there it excited a

warm debate. The Whigs were vociferous for it; the Tories, who believed

that the calling of a new Parliament would be in their favour, were as

vehemently against it. The depositions of Edward II. and Richard II.

were referred to and strongly argued upon; but the case in point was

the Convention which recalled Charles II., and continued to sit and

act long after. Sir John Maynard moreover contended that, as they were

like men who found themselves in a trackless desert, it was not for

them to stand crying, "Where is the king's highway?" but to take the

track that would lead them out of it. That track was the precedent of

Charles II.'s reign. The House passed the Bill without a division, and

it received the Royal assent on the tenth day after the accession.

A clause in this Bill provided that, after the 1st of March, no person

could sit or vote in either House until he had taken the new oath of

allegiance to their majesties. Great excitement was occasioned by this

oath. It was hoped by the Tories and High Church there would be found

a sufficient number of persons of influence who would refuse the oath,

so as to render the seat of the new monarchs unstable, and open the way

to the return of James. Care was taken to consult the prejudices of

the adherents to the old notions of right divine as much as possible,

and the words "rightful and lawful sovereigns," after deliberation

were omitted; but this did not prevent many from refusing it. As the

day approached for taking the oath, the capital was full of rumours.

It was said that the Duke of Grafton had escaped to France in order

to reconcile himself to his uncle; and numerous other persons were

supposed to have followed his example. When the day arrived, however,

Grafton was one of the first to present himself; and the number of the

lords who declined it, amongst them the Earls of Clarendon, Lichfield,

and Exeter, with the Archbishop of Canterbury and some of the bishops,

was small. Of the bishops, five were of those who refused to obey the

commands of James to publish his Indulgence, and had been sent to the

Tower. Rochester, the brother of Clarendon, was expected to refuse

the oath, as he had adhered to James after Clarendon had abandoned

him; but Clarendon's income was secure from his estate. Rochester

had a pension of four thousand pounds a year, which he would lose if

he refused the oath--a strong argument, which seems to have proved

convincing, for he took the oath. Four hundred of the Lower House had

taken the oath on the 2nd of March, and amongst them Seymour, who had

led the Tory Opposition; but when the oath was extended to the clergy

and other individuals in office, above four hundred of the clergy,

including some of the most distinguished dignitaries, refused it; and

thus began the great schism of the non-jurors, who long continued to

figure as the unswerving advocates of divine right.

The next great question was that of the revenue. The Parliaments of

Charles and James had been exceedingly munificent in their grants of

income. In the heat of their loyalty at the Restoration, the Commons

forgot all the salutary fears of their predecessors, and gave up every

point for which they had contended with Charles I. Tonnage and poundage

were granted for life, and afterwards confirmed to James. They settled

on these monarchs half of the excise in perpetuity, and half for life.

The fixed revenue of Charles and James had been one million two hundred

thousand pounds, but the actual revenue had been a great deal more. It

was now found by examination of the accounts that James had been in the

annual receipt of no less than two millions, of which ninety thousand

pounds had been expended in secret service money. William had, since

arriving at Whitehall, been in the habit of collecting and applying

this magnificent revenue as chief of the State; and seemed to expect

that it would be now settled on him. The first question discussed was,

whether an income granted to a monarch for life could be received

legally by his successor in case of his abdication so long as he lived.

Many of the chief lawyers contended that the revenue was granted to

the monarch in his political capacity, and not to the man, and that,

therefore, the prince who came to discharge his official duties so

long as he lived was rightfully in receipt of it. But the more common

sense opinion prevailed, that the prince who superseded another by the

call of the nation must receive all his rights as well as his call

from the nation. The House therefore passed to the question of the

amount of the revenue, and they did not appear very much disposed to

use the same lavish folly towards William as they had done towards

the late monarchs. Instead of granting him a life revenue, they

granted him one million two hundred thousand pounds, the sum allowed

to Charles II., but only for three years, one half of which was to be

appropriated to the civil list, the other half to the public defences.

William was sensibly chagrined by this caution, and complained much of

want of confidence in him, and of unusual parsimony. He presented a

claim of seven hundred thousand pounds from the Dutch, the cost of the

expedition which had placed him on the throne. The Commons consented

to pay six hundred thousand pounds, and William received the sum for

his careful countrymen with a very ill grace. The Commons did not the

less displease him by reducing his demand for the navy from one million

one hundred thousand pounds to seven hundred thousand pounds, and

by granting the supply for the army for only six months; Sir Edward

Seymour all the time warning them that it was the foolish liberality of

Charles II.'s Parliament which enabled him to enslave the nation as he

had done.

[Illustration: WILLIAM III.]

One thing which did William great credit, however, was the

recommendation to the Commons to abolish the abominable hearth-tax. As

he had advanced from Torbay to London, the people had importuned him

on all sides to set aside this detestable tax, which had been farmed

out to rapacious collectors, who treated the people with every species

of insult, cruelty, and violence in enforcing payment of it. It was a

most unequal tax, which fell with disproportionate weight on the very

poor; for as it was levied, not by the value of the property, but by

the number of chimneys, the peasant in many cases paid nearly as much

as a man of really great substance; and where the money was not ready

when called for, the tax-gatherers forced open even bedrooms, and sold

the very bed from beneath the sick, and the table at which the family

sat. William was much impressed by its injustice, and, at his special

desire, the Act was repealed.

[Illustration: MARY II.]

Whilst in the midst of the money debates, a circumstance occurred which

materially hastened the decision, and no doubt increased the liberality

of the Commons. William announced to them that James had sailed from

Brest, with an armament, for Ireland. But the alarm of James's descent

on Ireland, and the disaffection in the army, roused the Commons from

their tone of caution. They passed resolutions of patriotic devotion

to the Crown, and in an address assured William that their lives and

fortunes were at his service in its defence. They went further. As

there were great numbers of political persons in custody--persons

openly disaffected to the present dynasty having been prudently secured

during the progress of the revolution,--now that the revolution was

completed, and authorised judges were once more on the bench, it was

feared that these prisoners would demand their habeas corpus, and come

forth at the very moment when all the adherents of James were on the

alert to watch the effect of his reception in Ireland. The Commons,

therefore, passed an Act to suspend the Habeas Corpus Act for the

present.

But simultaneously the Commons were passing another Act of scarcely

less significance. Hitherto there had been no military power of

controlling and punishing soldiers or officers who offended against

discipline or their oath. They were subject only to the civil

tribunals, and must be brought there, and tried and punished as any

other subjects. James had obtained from his servile judges a decision

that he might punish any deserter from his standard summarily; but

this was not law, and the Commons, now alarmed by an affair at

Ipswich, where a regiment of Scottish soldiers had mutinied, passed

an Act called the Mutiny Bill, by which any military offenders

might be arrested by military authority, and tried and condemned

by court-martial in perfect independence of the civil authority.

This Bill, which passed without a single dissentient vote, at once

converted the soldiers into a separate class, and in effect founded

what all parties disclaimed and affected to dread--a standing army.

Like the Act for the suspension of the Habeas Corpus, it was only for

a limited period; but the unsettled state of the kingdom at the moment

of its expiration caused it to be renewed, and it became a permanent

institution, though to this day we annually go through the ceremony of

formally renewing the Mutiny Bill.

The passing these extraordinary measures excited the alarm of many even

well-disposed to the revolution; but to the adherents of the Stuart

dynasty they afforded the opportunity for the most vehement declamation

against the new monarch. The person, the manners, the spirit, and

intentions of William were severely criticised. He was undeniably of a

close and gloomy temperament, and found it impossible to assume that

gaiety and affability of demeanour which to Charles II. were natural.

He had the manners and the accent of a foreigner, and chilled all those

who approached him at Court by his cold and laconic manners. In fact,

he knew that he was surrounded by traitors, and could unbend only in

the company of his Dutch favourites. He became extremely unpopular,

and not all the endeavours and the agreeable and cordial manners

of the queen could prevent the serious effect of his own reserved

temper. At the same time more was truly to be attributed to the force

of circumstances than to any bias of William towards tyranny. In one

direction William was anxious to extend the liberties of the nation.

He was for establishing the utmost freedom of religious opinion. He

would have abolished the Test Act, and granted free enjoyment of all

Christian creeds and of office to members of all denominations; but

though there was no fear of a leaning to Popery in him, he found

himself stoutly opposed in these intentions by his subjects. The Church

was split into High Church and Low Church, jurors and non-jurors; but

every party in the Church, and almost every body of Dissenters, was

averse from conceding any liberty of creed or capability of office to

the Catholics. Again, the Church was bent against admission of any one

to office who refused to subscribe to the Thirty-nine Articles, and to

take the oaths, not only of Allegiance but of Supremacy. Under these

circumstances William found it impossible to set aside the Test Act

or the Corporation Act; but he brought in and passed the celebrated

Toleration Act. Yet even this Act, from which we still date our

enjoyment of religious liberty, was circumscribed. It did not repeal

the obnoxious Act of Uniformity, the Five Mile Act, the Conventicle

Act, and those other statutes which so harassed and oppressed the

Dissenters; but it exempted them from their operation on certain

conditions. They must subscribe thirty-four out of the Thirty-nine

Articles, which most of them could do; the Baptists were excused from

professing belief in the efficacy of infant baptism; and the Quakers

from taking an oath if they professed a general belief in Christianity,

promised fidelity to the Government, and made a declaration against

transubstantiation. This Act, therefore, cautious and meagre as it

appeared, gave a freedom to the Dissenting world which it had hitherto

been destitute of.

William made a resolute effort also to heal the great schism of

the Church, and admit, by a comprehensive Bill, the main body of

Nonconformists. By this Bill as introduced, it was proposed to

excuse all ministers of the Established Church from the necessity of

subscribing the Thirty-nine Articles; they were only to make this

declaration: "I do approve of the doctrine, and worship, and government

of the Church of England by law established, as containing all things

necessary to salvation; and I promise in the exercise of my ministry

to preach and practise according thereunto." The same looseness

of declaration was extended to the two universities. Presbyterian

ministers could be admitted to the pulpits and livings of the Church

by accepting from a bishop a simple command to preach, administer the

sacraments, and perform all the ministerial offices of the Church.

Except in a few churches, the clergyman might wear the surplice or

not, as he wished; might omit the sign of the cross in baptism; might

christen children with or without godfathers and godmothers; might

administer the Sacrament to persons sitting or kneeling, as they

pleased. Besides this, the Bill proposed a Commission to revise the

liturgy, the canons, and the constitution of the ecclesiastical

courts. But it was soon found that no such sweeping changes could be

effected. There was no determined opposition to the revision of the

liturgy, but the danger to the rites on which the High Church laid so

much stress soon called forth powerful resistance. It was represented

that all manner of anomalous and contradictory practices would soon

rend to pieces the harmony and decorum of the Church. Presbyterian

and Puritan would set at defiance the most honoured practices of the

Establishment. The Dissenting body were as much alarmed as the High

Church. This wide door of admission to the Church, it was feared, would

draw away a whole host of their ministers and members; and as the Test

Act was by no means to be removed, they would thus become additionally

unable to contend for its future abolition. The Bill, after much

discussion and many modifications, fell to the ground.

[Illustration: COVENANTERS PREACHING.

FROM THE PICTURE BY SIR GEORGE HARVEY, R.S.A.,

IN THE CORPORATION ART GALLERY, GLASGOW.

]

The next attempt was to modify the Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy,

so as to accommodate the consciences of the Non-jurors; but it was

finally agreed that all persons holding ecclesiastical or academical

preferment who did not take the oaths before the 1st of August should

be suspended, a pecuniary allowance to the deprived, in some cases to

be at the option of the king, but not to exceed one-third of the income

forfeited. This was followed by the passing of a new Coronation Oath,

by which their majesties bound themselves to maintain the Protestant

religion as established by law, and the coronation took place on the

11th of April.

These domestic matters being thus settled, war was declared against

France on the 13th of May. The inhuman desolation of the Palatinate

in the preceding winter, where Louis's general, Duras, had laid waste

the whole country, burned down the towns, leaving all of that fertile

and populous district one black and terrible desert, had roused the

powers of Europe against him. Germany, Spain, Holland, and England all

prepared for vengeance, and the people and Parliament of England were

equally loud in denunciation of the worthless desolator.

Whilst these affairs had been progressing in England, Scotland had

been equally active. The Scots had even more profound cause of hatred

to James, and more hope of effectual relief from William, than the

English. In England the Church had managed to maintain its ascendency,

and the fierceness of persecution had been somewhat restrained. There

the iron boot and thumbscrews, and the fury of Tory troopers, had not

perpetrated the horrors that they had done north of the Tweed. The

Scots had had the hateful yoke of Episcopacy forced on them, their

Church completely put down, and their liberties in a variety of ways

crushed by the authorised licence of James's delegated ministers.

No sooner, therefore, had James fled than the suppressed feeling of the

people burst forth. At Edinburgh crowds assembled, took down the heads

of the slaughtered Whigs from the gates, and committed them in solemn

ceremony to the earth. The episcopal clergy were set upon in many parts

of Scotland, especially in the West, where the Covenanters prevailed,

and where they had suffered so much from the emissaries of the Church.

The Covenanters now chased them away from their manses, ransacked

them, turned their wives and children out, broke all the furniture, or

set fire to it. They tore the gown from the back of the clergyman if

they could catch him, destroyed all the prayer-books they could find,

locked up the church, and warned ministers not to be found there again.

Two hundred clergymen were thus forcibly ejected. Christmas Day was

selected for the commencement of this summary process, to mark their

abhorrence of such superstitious festivals. As amid this violence many

began to plunder, the Presbyterian ministers and elders assembled, and

resolved that in future every incumbent of a parish should have due

notice served on him to quit his parsonage peaceably, to avoid the

necessity of being driven out by force.

The bishops and dignitaries made an instant appeal to William for

protection, and a proclamation was issued--for William had no military

force in Scotland--ordering the people to desist from further violence

towards the clergy till the Parliament should determine the form of the

establishment. But so little regard was paid to it, that on the same

day that it was published at Glasgow, the mob rushed to the cathedral,

and drove out the congregation with sticks and stones.

On the 14th of March the Scottish Convention of Estates met. By the

able management of Sir James Dalrymple of Stair--afterwards Lord

Stair--and his son, Sir John Dalrymple, who was an able debater, it

was so managed that chiefly Whigs were returned. Sir James was a man

of great legal learning, and consummate talent, though of doubtful

character, who had been deprived of his position as a privy councillor

and Chief Lord of the Court of Session, and had gone over to Holland,

and was William's main adviser as to Scottish affairs. His son, Sir

John, longer continued to side with the Stuarts, and was made Lord

Advocate; but at the Revolution he appeared in the other party, and

was supposed to have been for some time in effect pledged to William's

cause in secret through his father. He at once declared for William

on his landing, and exerted himself zealously for his interests in

Scotland.

With the Dalrymples was associated George Lord Melville, who had also

been for some time with William in Holland. On the other hand, the

celebrated Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, and Colin Lindsay,

Earl of Balcarres, were the chief agents of James in Scotland. These

two leaders had pretended to go over to William, or at least to

acquiesce in the change of dynasty; had waited on him on his arrival at

Whitehall, and been well received by him. William was urged to arrest

these noblemen, as too deeply implicated in the tyrannies of James

and the murder of the Covenanters ever to be allowed to mingle with

the new order of things; but William would not listen to the advice,

determining to give every one a fair trial of living peaceably. So

far did they promise this, that William granted them an escort of

cavalry on their return to Scotland, without which they would not have

been allowed by the Covenanters to reach Edinburgh alive. The name of

Claverhouse was a horror in every Scottish home in the Lowlands, where

he was loathed for his terrible cruelties towards the Presbyterian

population.

No sooner did they reach Edinburgh than they set to work with all

possible activity to assist the interests of James in the Convention

and the country. The Duke of Gordon, who held the castle for James, was

on the point of surrendering it when they arrived; but they exhorted

him to hold out, and called upon all the Royalists who were elected

at the Convention to take their places and defend the absent king's

interests. When the Estates met, the Earl of Argyll, who had been

proscribed by James, took his seat amid the murmurs of the Jacobites,

who declared that, as a person under legal attainder, he was incapable

of performing any office in the State. This was, however, overruled

by the majority. Melville, who had been living abroad too, and had

reappeared with William, presented himself, but without any opposition.

The Duke of Hamilton was put in nomination by the Whigs for the

presidency of the Convention, and the Duke of Athol by the Jacobites.

Neither of them was a man whose conduct in the late reign was entitled

to respect. Hamilton had adhered to James to the last, and had

acquiesced in many invasions of the laws and liberties of Scotland;

Athol had not only been a violent partisan of James, but had fawned on

William immediately on his arrival, and, being coldly received, had

wheeled round again. Hamilton was chosen president; and the moment

this was discovered twenty of the Jacobites instantly went over to

the stronger side. It was a striking fact that in Scotland, while the

great body of the people had stood to the death for their principles,

the nobility had become so corrupt through compliance with the corrupt

Court, and in eagerness for office, that public principle was at the

lowest ebb amongst them.

The Convention having thus organised itself, sent a deputation to the

Duke of Gordon demanding the surrender of the castle, as its cannon

might at any moment knock in the roof of the Parliament House, and

drive thence the Convention. Gordon requested twenty-four hours to

consider the proposition; but Dundee and Balcarres again succeeded in

inducing him to hold out. The Convention determined to try the force of

arms. They summoned the castle to surrender in due form, and pronounced

the penalties of high treason on all who dared to occupy it in defiance

of the Estates. They called out a guard to stop communication with the

castle, and made preparations for a regular siege of the fortress. The

next day a messenger arrived from King James with a letter, which, on

being read, was found to be a furious denunciation of the Convention,

and of every one who had shown a willingness to receive William. At

the same time it offered pardon to all traitors who should return to

their duty in a fortnight, with the alternative, if they refused, of

the utmost vengeance of the Crown. There was no regret for any past

acts which might have tended to alienate his subjects, no promises of

future redress. The very friends of the king, whom nothing could alter

or improve, were astonished and dispirited, and they stole away out of

the Convention, pursued through the streets by the groans and curses

of the crowd. At the same time, a letter was read from William, modest

and liberal, trusting to the result of the free deliberations of the

Estates. James, as was always the case with him, had done incalculable

service to the cause of his rival. His most bigoted adherents could

not avoid seeing that, were he restored to the throne, he would only

continue to pursue the blind and foolish course which had already

driven him from it. What added to the disgust of all parties was, that

the letter was countersigned by Melfort, James's Secretary of State--a

furious Papist and apostate from Protestantism, and nearly equally

abhorred by both Protestants and Catholics.

[Illustration: COVENANTERS EVICTING AN EPISCOPALIAN CLERGYMAN. (_See

p._ 403.)]

The Royalists, thus hopeless of effecting anything in the Convention,

and yet unwilling to yield up the cause, adopted the advice of

Dundee and Balcarres, who had the authority of James to open a rival

Convention at Stirling. Athol consented to go with them; but on

Monday, the 18th, he showed a fear of so far committing himself, and

requested the party to wait for him another day. But the case of Dundee

did not admit even a day's delay. The Covenanters of the West, whom

Hamilton, and the Dalrymples had summoned to Edinburgh, and who for

some time had come dropping in in small parties, till all the cellars

and wynds of the city were thronged with them, vowed to kill the hated

persecutor; and he made haste to flee, accompanied by his dare-devil

followers, all as well-known to, and as detested by, the Covenanters

as himself for their atrocities in the West. Whilst the Convention

was in deliberation, sentinels from the castle hurried in to say that

Claverhouse had galloped up to the foot of the fortress on the road to

Stirling, accompanied by a detachment of his horsemen, and that he had

climbed up the precipice high enough to hold a conversation with Gordon.

At this news the Convention was thrown into a tumult of indignation.

Hamilton ordered the doors to be locked, and the keys laid on the

table, so that no one should go out but such persons as should be sent

by the assembly to call the citizens to arms. By this means all such

Royalists as were in became prisoners till such time as the citizens

were ready. Lord Leven, the second son of Lord Melville, who inherited

the title of old General Leslie in right of his mother, was sent to

call the Covenanters to arms; and presently the streets were thronged

with the men of the West in rude military array, sufficient to ensure

the safety of the Estates. As the drums beat to arms, Dundee descended

from the rock and, waving his cap, with the cry that he went to where

the spirit of Montrose called him, rode off towards Stirling.

The Convention now proceeded with their business. They sent a letter

of thanks to William, which the bishops to a man refused to sign;

the Bishop of Edinburgh having, as chaplain, before prayed for the

return of James. William has been said to have privately wished that

Episcopacy might be established in Scotland; but, if so, such specimens

of the prelatic spirit there must have gone far to extinguish that

desire. Other symptoms of opposition were not wanting, even yet. The

Duke of Queensberry arrived from London, and revived the spirits of the

Jacobites. Again they urged the Duke of Gordon to fire on the city, but

he refused; and the chances of resistance were now taken away by the

arrival of General Mackay with the three regiments of Scots who had

served under William in Holland. The Convention immediately appointed

Mackay general of their forces; and, thus placed at their ease, they

proceeded to arrange the government. They appointed a committee, after

the manner of the Lords of the Articles, to draw up the plan which

should be adopted. As a last means of postponing this business, a

proposal was made by the Jacobites to join with the Whigs to concert a

scheme of union of the kingdom with England. This was a scheme which

was now growingly popular. During the Commonwealth the trade of England

had been opened to Scotland. All custom-houses, and levying of duties

on goods imported or exported between the countries, had been removed.

The Scots had been admitted to perfect freedom of foreign trade

with England, and the benefit had become too apparent to be lightly

relinquished. But, on the Restoration, all this had been altered. The

old and invidious restrictions had been renewed, and the great loss of

wealth thus induced had wonderfully modified the spirit of national

pride which opposed the abandonment of the ancient independence

of the nation. The Dalrymples and Lord Tarbet were favourable to

this proposition, but the Convention at large was too wise to

endanger the defeat of the acknowledgment of the new sovereign by an

indefinitely-prolonged debate on so vital a question. They proceeded

to declare that James, by his misconduct, had "forfaulted" his right

to the crown; that is, that he had forfeited it--a much more manly

and correct plea than that James had "abdicated," which he continued

to protest that he never had done, and he was at this moment in arms

with Ireland asserting his unrelinquished claim to it. As the term

"forfaulted," according to Scottish law, would have excluded all his

posterity, an exception was made in favour of Mary and Anne, and their

issue. This resolution was warmly defended by Sir John Dalrymple, and

as warmly by Sir James Montgomery, the member for Ayrshire, who had

been a determined champion of the Covenanters; and was resisted by the

bishops, especially by the Archbishop of Glasgow. It was carried with

only five dissentient voices, and was then read at the Market Cross,

in the High Street, by Hamilton, attended by the Lord Provost and the

heralds, and the Earl of Argyll, the son of James's decapitated victim.

Sir John Dalrymple and Sir James Montgomery were deputed to carry it,

with the second resolution that the crown should be offered to William

and Mary, to London. To define on what principles this offered transfer

of the crown was made, a Claim of Right, in imitation of the English

Bill of Rights, was drawn up and accompanied it.

But with the acknowledgment of William as King of Scotland he was

far from having acquired a state of comfort. In both his Governments

his ministers and pretended friends were his continual tormentors.

In England his Council and his chief ministers were at daggers

drawn--every one dissatisfied with the post he occupied, jealous of the

promotion of his rivals, and numbers of them in close correspondence

with the Court of James. In Scotland it was precisely the same; it was

impossible to satisfy the ambition and the cupidity of his principal

adherents. The Covenanters were exasperated because the Episcopalians

were merely dismissed from the Establishment, and were not handed

over to retaliation of all the injuries they had received from them.

Sir James Montgomery, who expected a much higher post, was offered

that of Chief Justice Clerk, and refused it with disdain. He at once

concerted plans of opposition, and made his attack amidst a whole

host of similarly disappointed aspirants. Amongst these were two who

had been in the insurrections of Monmouth and Argyll--Sir Patrick

Hume and Fletcher of Saltoun, men of great ability, but of reckless

and insubordinate character. A club was formed, in which these men,

with Montgomery, the Lords Annandale and Ross, and a whole tribe of

minor malcontents, did all in their power to thwart and embarrass the

government of William. The chief promotion had been conferred on the

Duke of Hamilton, who was made Lord High Commissioner; the Earl of

Crawford, a very indigent, but very bitter Presbyterian, who before

this appointment did not know where to get a dinner, was made President

of Parliament; Sir James Dalrymple was appointed the Principal Lord

of Session, and his son, Sir John, was restored to his office of Lord

Advocate. Lord Melville became Secretary of State, and Sir William

Lockhart Solicitor-General. But whilst some of these thought they ought

to have had something higher or more lucrative, there were scores for

whom the limited administration of Scotland afforded no situation in

accordance with their own notions of their merits, and these hastened

to join the opposition.

Meanwhile Dundee was exerting himself in the Highlands to rouse the

clans in favour of King James. But this he found an arduous matter.

The Highlanders, at a distance from the scenes and the interests which

divided both England and the Lowlands of Scotland, occupied with their

hunting and their own internal feuds, cared little for either King

James or King William. If anything, they would probably have given the

preference to William, for James had more than once sent his troops

after them to chastise them for their inroads into the domains of

their Saxon fellow-subjects. Dundee himself had retired to his own

estate, and offered to remain at peace if he received from William's

ministers a pledge that he should not be molested. But, unfortunately

for him, an emissary from James in Ireland, bearing letters to Dundee

and Balcarres, was intercepted, and immediately Balcarres was arrested,

and Dundee made his escape into the Highlands. There, though he could

not move any of the clans by motives of loyalty to declare for James,

he contrived to effect this object through their own internal enmities.

Most of them had an old and violent feud with the clan Campbell. The

Argyll family had, through a long succession of years, extended its

territories and its influence over the Western Highlands at the expense

of the other clans, some of which it had nearly extirpated; and now

the head of the family came back from exile in the favour of the

new monarch, and all these clans, the Stuarts, the Macnaghtens, the

Camerons, the Macdonalds, the Macleans, were in alarm and expectation

of a severe visitation for past offences, and for unpaid feudal dues.

They were, therefore, moved from this cause to unite against William,

because it was to unite against MacCallum More, the chieftain of

Argyll. If William was put down, Argyll was put down. Whilst Dundee was

busy mustering these clans, and endeavouring to reconcile their petty

jealousies and bring them to act together, he sent earnestly to James

in Ireland to despatch to him a tolerable body of regular troops, for

without them he despaired of keeping long together his half savage

and unmanageable Highlanders. Till then he avoided a conflict with

the troops sent by the Convention under Mackay against him. It was in

vain that Mackay marched from one wild district to another; the enemy

still eluded him amongst the intricate fastnesses and forests of the

Highlands till his troops were wearied out with climbing crags, and

threading rugged defiles and morasses; and he returned to quarters

in Stirling, Aberdeen, and other towns at the foot of the mountain

district.

It was the opinion of Lord Tarbet, who understood the statistics of the

Highlands well, that, if William would send about five thousand pounds

to enable the clans to discharge their debts to the Earl of Argyll,

and obtain from that chieftain an assurance that he would abstain from

hostilities against them, they would all submit at once, and leave

Dundee to find support where he could. But his advice was attempted to

be carried out in so absurd a manner, by choosing an agent from the

clan Campbell as the mediator on the occasion, that the clans refused

to treat with him, and became all the more devoted to the interests of

James.

Things were in this position when in June a civil contention broke

out in Athol. The marquis, unwilling to declare for either side, had

retired to England, and his eldest son, Lord Murray, who had married a

daughter of the Duke of Hamilton, and declared for King William, was

opposed by the marquis's steward, who declared for King James. The

steward held Blair Castle, and Lord Murray besieged him in it. This

called out Dundee to repel Murray and support the steward, the adherent

of James; and Mackay, hoping now to meet with him, put his forces in

march for the place of strife. The two armies, in fact, at length came

into contact in the stern pass of Killiecrankie, near Dunkeld. This was

then one of the wildest and most terrible defiles in the Highlands; the

mountain torrent of the Garry roaring through its deep and rocky strait.

The forces of Dundee consisted of about three thousand Highlanders,

and a body of Irish, under an officer of the name of Cannon, amounting

to about three hundred, an ill-armed and ragged rabble whom James had

sent over instead of the efficient regiments for which Dundee had so

earnestly prayed. On the other hand, Mackay commanded about the same

number of regular troops; these were the three Scottish regiments which

he had brought from Holland, a regiment of English infantry--afterwards

the Thirteenth of the Line--and two regiments of Lowland Scots, newly

raised, commanded by the Lords Kenmore and Leven. He had, besides, two

troops of horse, one of which was led by Lord Belhaven.

On the morning of Saturday, the 17th of June, Mackay had just

struggled through the pass of Killiecrankie, his twelve hundred

baggage-horses--for no wheel-carriages could approach such a

place--were scarcely through, when the enemy was upon them. The men had

thrown themselves down on an open space on the banks of the Garry, to

recover from their fatigue, when they were called to resume their arms

by the appearance of Dundee leading on his troops of wild Highlanders.

Cameron of Lochiel, a man of distinguished bravery and ability, was

second in command, and urged Dundee to come to an engagement without

the least delay. The two armies drew up, that of Mackay with the Garry

on its left, that of Dundee with the stream on its right. Lord Murray

and the few forces with him united with the forces of Mackay.

It was early in the afternoon when the hostile parties began to fire on

each other, and the regular troops of Mackay did considerable execution

on the Highlanders; yet it was seven o'clock in the evening before

Dundee gave the order to charge. Then the Highlanders raised a wild

shout, which was returned by the enemy with a cry so much less lively

and determined, that Lochiel exclaimed, "We shall do it now; that is

not the cry of men who are going to win." The Highlanders dropped

their plaids and rushed forward. They were received by a steady fire

of the Lowlanders; but, as these prepared to charge with the bayonet,

they were so much delayed by the nature of the operation--having,

according to the practice of the time, to stick the bayonets into the

muzzles of their guns, instead of, as now, having them already fixed

beneath them--that the Highlanders were down upon them before they were

prepared, and cut through and through their lines. Having discharged

their fire-arms, the Celts threw them away, and assailed the Lowland

troops with dirk and claymore. The whole of the Scottish regiments

broke, and were scattered like leaves before a whirlwind. Balfour

was killed at the head of his regiment; Mackay's brother fell whilst

gallantly endeavouring to keep together his men; and Mackay himself was

compelled to give way. The English horse were yet on the ground, and

Mackay spurred towards them, and called on them to charge and break

the onslaught of the furious Highlanders on the foot; but he called in

vain; in spite of the brave example of Belhaven, the horse fled as

fast as their steeds could carry them. There was nothing for it but for

Mackay to endeavour to save himself; and, followed by only one servant,

he managed to cut his way through the enemy and reach a neighbouring

height.

There the scene that presented itself was astounding. His whole

army had vanished except the English regiment, which kept together

in perfect order, and a few of the troops of Lord Leven. These had

poured a murderous fire into the ranks of the Highlanders, and still

shot numbers of them down as in fiery rage they pursued the flying

Lowlanders down the ravine, where the confused mass of enemies were

plunged in chaotic strife--one violent, horrid effort to escape or

to kill. In this strange _mêlée_ were involved the twelve hundred

pack-horses, which alone effected a diversion for the fugitives, the

Highlanders stopping to make themselves masters of so rich a booty.

Mackay lost no time in getting the English regiment, with Lord Leven

and his remnant of men, and such few others as he could collect, across

the Garry. This being effected he halted, and again looked back,

expecting that he should be hotly pursued, but no such thing; the

Highlanders were, in fact, too agreeably detained by the plunder. But

this supposition did not account to him for the easy manner in which

such a general as Dundee allowed of his retreat, and he declared to his

guards that he was sure Dundee must have fallen. And in this opinion he

was right. Dundee had fallen in the very commencement of the general

charge. He had led it on, contrary to the advice of Lochiel, who had

urged on him the necessity of not exposing himself too much. Waving his

hat, and calling his soldiers to follow him, he dashed forward, when a

bullet struck him below the cuirass, which was raised by his action of

rising in his stirrups and waving his arm, and he fell to the ground.

The tradition of the Highlands is, that Dundee was believed to have

made a compact with the devil, and bore a charmed life, which no ball

of lead or iron could touch; that a soldier of Mackay's army, seeing

him galloping unharmed amid showers of flying balls, plucked a silver

button from his own coat, and fired at him with instant effect. The

fall of the general was observed only by a few of his own soldiers who

were near him, and one of them caught him in his arms. He asked, "How

goes the day?" "Well for King James," said the man, "but I am sorry

for your lordship." "If it be well for the king," replied Dundee, "it

matters the less for me," and expired.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF KILLIECRANKIE: THE LAST CHARGE OF DUNDEE.

(_See p._ 408.)]

Mackay made his way over the mountains by Weem Castle and Castle

Drummond to Stirling. On the way he overtook the fugitives from

Ramsay's regiment, who had fled at the first onset. They were

completely cowed and demoralised; and it was only by threatening to

shoot any man that left the track that he could prevent them from

dispersing amongst the hills. Many of them, after all, managed to elude

his vigilance, and were killed by the Highlanders for their clothes.

It was reported that Mackay lost two thousand men in the battle, and

that five hundred were made prisoners; but, on the other hand, a

great number of the Highlanders fell on the field. The rest, before

retreating with the booty, piled a great heap of stones on the spot

where Claverhouse fell. This is still shown, and is the only monument

of John Graham, Viscount Dundee, for the Church of Blair Athol in which

he was buried has long since disappeared, and his tomb with it.

The news of the defeat of Mackay caused consternation throughout the

Lowlands, and even in London, whither it was carried by couriers

charged with earnest appeals to the king to hasten forces on to

Scotland, to protect the people from the torrents of victorious

barbarians from the mountains, who were with terror expected to

devastate the whole country. The Scottish Convention urged Hamilton to

dismiss them, that they might provide for their safety; but fast on the

heels of the first news came that of the certain death of Dundee, which

at once reassured the country; for, without him, the Highlanders were

regarded as comparatively innocuous, as a body without a head. And this

was very near the truth; for the command had now fallen on the Irish

officer Cannon, who, with his ragamuffin brigade, was not likely to

remain long very formidable. In fact, he very soon managed to disgust

the proud Highland chieftains. Lochiel returned home, and many of the

Celts, satisfied with their plunder, followed his example. Others,

however, stimulated by the hope of similar good fortune, came rushing

from their hills, adding, by their conflicting prejudices and wild

insubordination, only to the weakness of the force. Cannon dispatched

a party of the Robertsons into the Lowlands to collect cattle and

provisions for his army; but Mackay came upon them at St. Johnstone's,

and killed one hundred and twenty of them, and took thirty prisoners.

This revived the spirit of his troops, and infused new confidence

through the country. In fact, Mackay was an excellent general, and was

unremitting in his exertions to renew the courage and discipline of his

troops. He had seen the fatal effect of the clumsy use of the bayonets

at Killiecrankie, and he lost no time in having them made to screw upon

the muskets, so that these could be fired with them ready fixed.

And very soon he had need of all his generalship. The ministers at

Edinburgh had ordered him to garrison Dunkeld with the Cameronian

regiment newly raised. The town was unfortified; and in vain Mackay

protested against exposing his men thus to the attack of the whole body

of the Highlanders encamped at Blair Castle. But the Highland army,

led on by Cannon, were received with a spirit worthy of the old race

of Covenanters, were repulsed, and driven back with great slaughter.

The young commander Lieutenant-Colonel Cleland, and after him Captain

Monro, fell at the head of the besieged; but the victory was decisive.

The Highlanders dispersed with their booty to their homes; Cannon, with

his disorderly Irish, escaped to the Isle of Mull; the fame of Mackay

and his troops was higher than ever, and the war in Scotland was at an

end.

We have continued to this point the affairs of Scotland, that we might

not interrupt the still more important transactions which at the same

time took place in Ireland. On the 12th of March, two days before the

opening of the Scottish Convention, James had landed in Ireland. That

island was peculiarly open to the influence of James, for the bulk of

the population were Catholics, and they were thrown into a state of

great excitement by the hope of being able to drive the Protestants

from their estates by his appearance there with a French army, of

wreaking vengeance on them for all their past oppressions, and of

regaining their ancient patrimony.

From the moment almost that James had mounted the throne of England, he

began his preparations for putting down Protestantism in Ireland, and

raising a military power there which should enable him to crush it also

in England. The Protestant judges had been removed one after another

from the bench, so that little justice could be obtained in Irish

tribunals by Protestant suitors. The Protestants were diligently weeded

out of the army, and lying Dick Talbot, the Earl of Tyrconnel, James's

most obsequious tool, was his Lord-Lieutenant, and bent on carrying out

his plans to the fullest extent. There arose a terrible panic amongst

the Protestants that a general massacre was contemplated, and the

Englishry began to collect whatever of value they could carry with

them, and escape across the Channel into England or Wales. Tyrconnel

sent for the leading Protestants to Dublin, and protested with many

oaths that the whole rumour was a malicious and groundless lie. Nobody,

however, put any faith in his assurances, and the exodus rapidly

increased, whilst such Protestants as possessed any means of defence

in towns, armed themselves, threw up fortifications, and determined

to sell their lives dear. Such was the case at Kenmare, in Kerry; at

Bandon, Mallow, Sligo, Charleville, Enniskillen, and Londonderry.

Such was the state of Ireland at the time of the landing of William at

Torbay. Tyrconnel despatched a body of Popish infantry in December,

1688, to take possession of Enniskillen. The inhabitants summoned

the Protestants of the surrounding country to their aid, rushed

out on the soldiers as they approached the gates of the town, and

defeated them. They then appointed Gustavus Hamilton, a captain in the

army, their governor, and determined to hold their own against the

lieutenant-governor. Londonderry likewise shut its gates in the face

of the Earl of Antrim, who armed a Popish regiment to garrison their

town. This exploit was the work of thirteen apprentices, whose bold and

decisive deed was quickly imitated by the rest of the inhabitants. The

town was put into a posture of thorough defence, the country round was

alarmed, the Protestant gentry flocked in with armed followers, horse

and foot, and Antrim thought it prudent to retire to Coleraine.

At another time Tyrconnel would have taken a bloody vengeance on the

courageous Protestants of Ulster, but matters in England appeared too

critical to permit him such indulgence. He had recourse, therefore,

to artifice. He despatched Lord Mountjoy, the Master of the Ordnance,

with his regiment, which included many Protestants, to Londonderry.

Mountjoy was a Protestant himself, though an adherent of King James;

had much property in Ulster, and was highly respected there. The

citizens of Londonderry willingly admitted him within their walls,

and suffered him to leave a garrison there, consisting solely of

Protestant soldiers, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Lundy as

governor. To the people of Enniskillen Mountjoy was less courteous;

he somewhat curtly treated a deputation thence, and advised them to

submit unconditionally to James. Tyrconnel even affected to enter into

negotiation with William, and General Richard Hamilton was not very

wisely despatched by William to Ireland to treat with him. Hamilton had

been in command under Tyrconnel till a recent period, and had been sent

by him with reinforcements to James in England. There, finding James

had fled, he coolly went over to William, and, strangely enough, was

deemed sufficiently trustworthy to be returned to his old master as

negotiator. He no sooner arrived than he once more declared for King

James. Tyrconnel, however, did not himself so soon throw off the mask

of duplicity. He protested to the Prince of Orange that he was quite

disposed to treat for the surrender of Ireland, and to the alarmed

Catholics of Ireland--who got some wind of his proceedings--that he

had not the most distant idea of submitting. On the other hand, he

prevailed on Lord Mountjoy, who had so well served him at Londonderry,

to go on a mission to James at St. Germains, professedly to procure

a concession from James that his Irish subjects should submit to

William for the present, and not rush into a contest to which they were

unequal, but wait for better times. The real truth was, that James

had already despatched Captain Rush from St. Germains to Tyrconnel to

assure him that he was coming himself with all haste with a powerful

fleet and army. Tyrconnel was, therefore, desirous to get Mountjoy

secured, as he was capable of uniting the Protestants and heading them

against the bloody butchery that James and Tyrconnel destined for

them. Mountjoy somewhat reluctantly fell into the snare. He proceeded

to France, accompanied by Chief Baron Rice, a fanatical Papist, who

had boasted that he would drive a coach and six through the Act of

Settlement. Rice had secret instructions to denounce Mountjoy as a

traitor, and to recommend James to make him fast. No sooner, therefore,

did he present himself at St. Germains than he was clapped into the

Bastille.

This act of diabolical treachery being completed, Tyrconnel now

abandoned further disguise, and prepared to hand over the whole

Protestant population of Ireland to the exterminating fury of the

Catholic natives. "Now or never! now and for ever!" was the watchword

of blood and death to all the Englishry. It was embroidered on the

viceregal banner, and floated over the castle of Dublin. The Catholics

were called on to arm and secure Ireland for the Irish. The call was

obeyed with the avidity of savages. Those who had not arms manufactured

them out of scythes, forks, and other rural implements. Every smithy

was aglow, every hammer resounding in preparation of pike and

skean, the Irish long knife. By February, 1689, the army of Ireland

was swelled with regulars and irregulars to a hundred thousand men.

There was one universal shout of Bacchanalian acclaim, and rush to

secure the plunder of the Protestants. The houses of the wealthy were

ransacked, the cattle driven off, the buildings, and even the heaths

set fire to. The wild marauders roasted the slaughtered cattle and

sheep at huge fires often made of timbers of the buildings, emptied

the cellars, and sang songs of triumph over the heretic Englishry, and

of Ireland restored to its legitimate owners. What an Ireland it was

likely to become under them was soon evident. They were not content to

kill enough to satisfy their hunger; these children of oppression and

ignorance, like wolves, destroyed for the mere pleasure of destroying;

and D'Avaux, the French ambassador, who accompanied James over the

country from Kinsale to Dublin, describes it as one black, wasted

desert, for scores of miles without a single inhabitant, and calculates

that in six weeks these infuriate savages had slaughtered fifty

thousand cattle and three or four hundred thousand sheep.

Before such an inundation of fury and murder, the few Protestant

inhabitants were swept away like chaff before the wind. All the

fortified towns and houses in the south were forced by the ruthless mob

and soldiery, or were abandoned, and the people fled for their lives to

seek an asylum in Ulster. Those of Kenmare managed to get across in a

small vessel to Bristol.

In all this fearful scene of devastation Hamilton, who had come over

as the emissary of William, was one of the most active and unpitying

agents. Enniskillen and Londonderry were the only Protestant places

which now held out, and Hamilton commenced his march northward to

reduce them. This march was only another wild blast of desolation,

like that which had swept the south, and left the country a howling

wilderness. In addition to Hamilton's regular troops, hosts of the

self-armed and merciless Irish collected on his track, and burnt,

plundered, and murdered without mercy. The people fled before the rout,

themselves burning their own dwellings, and laying waste with fire the

whole district, so that it should afford no shelter or sustenance to

the enemy. The whole of the Protestant population retreated northwards,

leaving even Lisburn and Antrim deserted. Thirty thousand fugitives

soon found themselves cooped up within the walls of Londonderry, and

many thousands were shut up in Enniskillen.

At this crisis James landed at Kinsale, and marched to Cork. He

had brought no army, but a number of officers to command the

Irish troops. His General-in-Chief was Count Rosen, a man of much

military experience. Next to him were Lieutenant-General Maumont,

Brigadier-General Pusignan, and four hundred other officers of

different ranks. He was accompanied by Count D'Avaux, who had been

ambassador in England, a man clever, shrewd, keenly observant, and with

little mercy or principle. His object was to secure Ireland rather

for Louis than for James, and he served his master with cunning and

zeal. James brought with him arms for ten thousand men, abundance of

ammunition, and a military chest of about a hundred and twenty thousand

pounds sterling. Before quitting St. Germains Louis XIV. himself had

paid James a parting visit, displayed towards him the most marked

friendship, embraced him at parting, and told him, in his epigrammatic

way, that the greatest good that he could desire for him was that they

might never meet again.

James landed on the 12th of March, and two days after was in Cork. The

Irish received him with enthusiastic acclamations as a saviour; but

the effects of his anticipated arrival, and the measures concerted

by himself and carried out by the brutal Tyrconnel, met him on the

instant. He was anxious to push on to Dublin; but the whole country

was a desert, and horses could not be procured in sufficient numbers

to convey his baggage, nor food to sustain them on the way. During the

detention consequent on this, Tyrconnel arrived to welcome His Majesty

to Ireland. On the 24th of March he entered Dublin amid the hurrahs

and the festive demonstrations of flowers, garlands of evergreens, of

tapestry and carpets hung from the windows, of processions of young

girls in white, and friars and priests with their crosses, and with

the host itself. At sight of that, James alighted, and, falling on

his knees in the mud, bared his head in humble devotion. The next

morning James proceeded to form his Privy Council. This was composed

of his natural son, the Duke of Berwick, the Duke of Powis; the Earls

of Abercorn, Melfort, Dover, Carlingford, and Clanricarde; the Lords

Thomas Howard, Kilmallock, Merrion, Kenmare; Lord Chief Justice

Herbert, the Bishop of Chester, General Sarsfield, Colonel Dorrington,

and, strangely enough, D'Avaux, who should have retained the

independent position of ambassador; the Marquis D'Abbeville, and two

other foreigners. The Protestant Bishop of Meath, at the head of his

clergy, appeared before him, imploring his protection, and permission

to lay before him the account of the injuries they and their flocks had

received. James affected to declare that he was just as much as ever

desirous to afford full liberty of conscience, and to protect all his

subjects in their rights and opinions; but he said it was impossible to

alter what had already taken place, and he gave an immediate proof of

the impartiality which Protestants were likely to receive at his hands

by dismissing Keating, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, the only

Protestant judge still remaining on the bench.

These measures dispatched, it became the question whether, in the

interval before the meeting of Parliament, James should continue in

Dublin, or should proceed to the army besieging Londonderry, and

encourage it by his presence. This called forth the conflicting views

and interests of his adherents, and his whole court became rent by

struggling factions. The English exiles warmly urged the king to

proceed to Ulster. They cared little for the fate of Ireland, their

views and wishes were fixed on England. In the north, as soon as

Londonderry was put down, it was easy for James to go across to

Scotland, there to commence the campaign for the recovery of the

English crown. But this was the very thing which his Irish partisans

dreaded. They felt certain that if James recovered the English throne,

they should be left to contend with the colonists of Ulster themselves;

and the victorious ascendency of that small but sturdy body of people

was too vividly burnt into their minds by ages of their domination.

They therefore counselled James to remain as a king at Dublin, and

leave his generals to put down the opposition in the north; and in

this they were zealously seconded by D'Avaux and the French. James on

the throne of England would be a very different person to James on the

throne of Ireland only. In the one case, if he succeeded, he might ere

long become independent of Louis; if he failed, the English Protestant

king would soon subdue Ireland to his sway. But if James continued

only monarch of Ireland, he must continue wholly dependent on Louis.

He could only maintain himself there by his aid in men and money, and

then Ireland would become gradually a French colony--a dependence most

flattering to the pride and power of France--a perpetual thorn in the

side of England.

The contention between the two parties was fierce, and Tyrconnel joined

with the French and Irish in advising James to remain at Dublin. On

the other hand, Melfort and the English pointed out to him the immense

advantage to his prospects to settle the last remains of disaffection

in the north, and to appear again in arms in his chief kingdom, where

they persuaded him that the Highlanders and all the Catholic and

Royalist English would now flock to his standard. William, they assured

him, was to the highest degree unpopular; a powerful party in Scotland

were opposed to him, and in the ascendant. These views prevailed.

James, attended by D'Avaux and the French officers, set out for Ulster.

The journey was again through a country blasted by the horrors of war

and robbery. There was no fodder for their horses, scarcely a roof to

shelter the heads of the travellers; and, after a long and terrible

journey, plunging and struggling through deep roads, and bogs where

there was no road at all, famished and worn out by fatigue, they

reached Charlemont on the 13th of April. When James at length arrived

before Londonderry, the fall of that place did not appear likely to

be quite so early an event as he had been led to believe. Rosen,

however, treated lightly the resistance which the inhabitants could

make. The walls of the town were old, the ditches could scarcely be

discerned, the gates and drawbridges were in disorder, and the town

was commanded at various points by heights from which artillery might

play upon it. What was still more favourable to James, it was well

known that Lundy, the governor, was a traitor. Rosen was placed in

the chief command, and Maumont next to him over the head of Hamilton.

Lundy meanwhile depressed the spirits of the people within by telling

them that it was useless to attempt to defend such a place, and kept

up a secret correspondence with the enemy without, informing them of

all that passed there, and of its weak points and condition. He did

more--he contrived to send away succours which arrived from England.

Colonel Cunningham appeared in the bay with a fleet having on board

two regiments for the defence of the place. Cunningham and his chief

officers went on shore and waited on the governor. Lundy called a

council, taking care to exclude all but his own creatures; and these

informed Cunningham that it was mere waste of men and money to land

them; the town was perfectly indefensible; and that, in fact, he was

going to surrender it. His supporters confirmed this view of the

case, and Cunningham and his officers withdrew, and soon after made

sail homeward, to the despair of the inhabitants; Lundy, as he saw

them depart, sending word into the enemy's camp that he was ready to

surrender.

But the spirit of the inhabitants was now roused. They openly declared

Lundy a traitor, and, if they could have found him, would have killed

him on the spot. He had, however, concealed himself, and at night was

enabled, by connivance of his friends, to escape over the walls in

disguise. As night approached, the people, to their astonishment, found

the gates set open, and the keys were not to be found. People said they

had seen the confederates of Lundy stealing out, and the alarm flew

through the place. The townsmen came together, and called all to arms

by beat of drum. A message was despatched to Cunningham to bring in his

forces; but he was already on the move, and declared that his orders

permitted him only to follow the commands of the governor.

Thus deserted, the inhabitants courageously resolved to depend on their

own energies. They placed Major Baker and Captain Murray at the head of

the armed citizens, who amounted to seven thousand, many of them Ulster

gentlemen of family, and endowed with all the dauntless spirit which

had made them so long masters of the north of Ireland. At this moment,

too, the Rev. George Walker, the Rector of Donaghmore, who had been

driven in along with the rest of the fugitives, displayed that spirit,

eloquence, and ability which inspired the whole place with a wonderful

enthusiasm, and which have made his name famous amongst the Protestant

patriots of Ireland. Walker was appointed joint governor with Major

Baker, and they set themselves to work to organise their armed people

into military bodies with their proper officers, to place cannon on

all the most effective points, and post sentinels on the walls and

at the gates. The forces of James were already drawn up before the

place, expecting the promised surrender of Lundy. Presently a trumpeter

appeared at the southern gate, and demanded the fulfilment of the

governor's engagement. He was answered that the governor had no longer

any command there. The next day, the 20th of April, James sent Lord

Strabane, a Catholic peer of Ireland, offering a free pardon for all

past offences on condition of an immediate surrender, and a bribe to

Captain Murray, who was sent to hold a parley with him, of a thousand

pounds and a colonelcy in the royal army. Murray repelled the offer

with contempt, and advised Strabane, if he valued his safety, to make

the best of his way out of gunshot.

At this unexpected answer, James displayed the same pusillanimity which

marked his conduct when he fled from England. Instead of ordering the

place to be stormed, he lost heart, and, though he had been only eleven

days before the town, set off back to Dublin, taking Count Rosen with

him, and leaving Maumont in command, with Hamilton and Pusignan under

him. Then the siege was pushed on with spirit. The batteries were

opened on the town, to which the townsmen replied vigorously; and, on

the 21st of April, made a desperate sally under Captain Murray, killed

General Maumont and two hundred of the Irish, and, under cover of a

strong fire kept up by a party headed by Walker, regained the town. The

siege under Hamilton, who succeeded to the command, then languished. On

the 4th of May the townspeople made another sally, and killed Pusignan.

After this sallies became frequent, the bold men of Londonderry carried

off several officers prisoners into the town, and two flags of the

French, which they hung up in the cathedral. It was at length resolved

by the besiegers to carry the place by storm, but they were repelled

with great loss, the very women joining in the _mêlée_, and carrying

ammunition and refreshments to the defenders on the walls. As the

storming of the town was found to be impracticable, Hamilton commenced

a blockade. The troops were drawn round the place, and a strong boom

thrown across the river, and the besiegers awaited the progress of

famine.

All this time the people of Enniskillen had been making a noble

diversion. They had marched out into the surrounding country, levied

contributions of provisions from the native Irish, and given battle to

and defeated several considerable bodies of troops sent against them.

They took and sacked Belturbet, and carried off a great quantity of

provisions; they made skirmishing parties, and scoured the country in

the rear of the army besieging Londonderry, cutting off straggling

foragers, and impeding supplies. The news of the continued siege of

Londonderry, and the heroic conduct of the people of both these places,

raised a wonderful enthusiasm in England on their behalf. Lundy, who

had reached London, and Cunningham, who had brought back his regiments,

were arrested, and Lundy was thrown into the Tower and Cunningham

into the Gatehouse. Kirke was also dispatched with a body of troops

from Liverpool to relieve the besieged in Londonderry. On the 15th

of June his squadron was discerned approaching, and wonderful was the

exultation when it was ascertained that Kirke had arrived with troops,

arms, ammunition, and supplies of food.

It was high time that relief should have come, for they were reduced to

the most direful extremities, and were out of cannon-ball, and nearly

out of powder. But they were doomed to a horrible disappointment.

Kirke, who could be bold enough in perpetrating barbarities on

defenceless people, was too faint-hearted to attempt forcing the boom

in the river, and relieving the place. He drew off his fleet to the

entrance of Lough Foyle, and lay there in tantalising inactivity. His

presence, instead of benefiting them, brought fresh horrors upon them;

for no sooner did James in Dublin learn that there was a chance of

Kirke's throwing in fresh forces and provisions, than he dispatched

Rosen to resume the command, with orders to take the place at all costs.

This Rosen, who was a Russian, from Livonia, was a brutal savage, and

vowed that he would take the place, or roast the inhabitants alive. He

first began by endeavouring to undermine the walls; but the besieged

so briskly attacked the sappers, that they soon killed a hundred of

them, and compelled them to retire. Filled with fury, Rosen swore that

he would raze the walls to the ground, and massacre every creature in

the town,--men, women, and children. He flung a shell into the place,

to which was attached a threat that, if they did not at once surrender,

he would collect from the whole country round all the people, their

friends and relatives, the women, the children, the aged, drive them

under the walls, and keep them there till they perished. He knew that

the besieged could give them no support, for they were perishing fast

themselves from famine, and its attendant fevers and diseases. The

fighting men were so weak that they often fell down in endeavouring to

strike a blow at the enemy. They were living on dogs, rats, any vile

thing they could seize. They had eaten up all the horses to three,

which were mere skin and bone. They had salted the hides and chewed

them to keep down their ravening hunger. There were some amongst them

who began to talk of eating the bodies of those who fell in the action.

Numbers perished daily in their houses of exhaustion, and the stench

arising from the unburied dead was terrible and pestilential. Many of

their best men had died from fever, amongst them Major Baker, their

military governor, and Colonel Mitchelbourne had been elected in his

place. They were reduced to fire brickbats instead of cannon-balls; and

their walls were so battered, that it was not they but their own spirit

which kept out the enemy. Yet, amid these horrors, they treated the

menace with silent contempt, and sent out an order that any one even

uttering the word "Surrender," should be instantly put to death.

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.

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: 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_.

On the 7th of May, the day after the _Te Deum_, James met his

Parliament. What sort of a Parliament it was, and what it was likely to

do in Ireland may be surmised from the fact that there were only six

Protestants in the whole House of Commons, consisting of two hundred

and fifty members. Only fourteen lords appeared to his summons, and of

these only four were Protestants. By new creations, and by reversal

of attainders against Catholic peers, he managed to add seventeen

more members to the Upper House, all Catholics, so that in the whole

Parliament there were only ten Protestants, and four of these were the

Bishops of Meath, Ossory, Cork, and Limerick. The majority of these

members were not only Catholic, eager to visit upon the Protestants all

the miseries and spoliations which the latter had inflicted on them,

but they were men totally unaccustomed to the business of legislation

or government, from having been long excluded from such functions,

and condemned to pass their time on their estates in that half savage

condition which qualified them rather for bandits than for lawgivers

and magistrates.

James's first act was that of complete toleration of liberty of

conscience to all Christian denominations. This sounded well, and was

in perfect keeping with his declarations and endeavours in England

for which he had been driven out, and England had now an opportunity

of observing with what justice; of judging whether or not his real

object had been wrongfully suspected. In his speech from the throne, he

reverted with great pride to these endeavours, and to his determination

still to be the liberator of conscience. This was language worthy of

the noblest lawgiver that ever existed; but, unfortunately, James's

English subjects never could be persuaded of his sincerity, and did

not believe that this happiness would arrive as the result of his

indulgence. The very next Act which he now passed decided that they

had not mistrusted him without cause. Scarcely had he passed the Act

of Toleration, when he followed it up by the repeal of the Act of

Settlement, by which the Protestants held their estates, and their

rights and liberties in Ireland. This just and tolerant monarch thus,

at one stroke, handed over the whole Protestant body to the mercy of

the Irish Catholics, and to one universal doom of confiscation. The

Bill was received with exultation by this Parliament, which portended

all the horrors which were to follow.

But there were other parties whose estates were not derived from the

Act of Settlement, but from purchase, and another Act was passed to

include them. It was a Bill confiscating the property of all who had

aided or abetted the Prince of Orange in his attempt on the Crown, or

who were absent and did not return to their homes before the 5th of

October. The number of persons included in this great Act of Attainder,

as it was called, amounted to between two and three thousand, including

men of all ranks from the highest noble to the simplest freeholder. All

the property of absentees above seventeen years of age was transferred

to the king. The most unbounded lust of robbery and revenge was thus

kindled in the public mind. Every one who wanted his neighbour's

property, or had a grudge against him, hurried to give in his name to

the Clerk of the House of Commons, and, without any or much inquiry, it

was inserted in the Bill.

To make the separation of England and Ireland complete, and to set up

the most effectual barrier against his own authority, should he again

regain the throne of England, James permitted his Parliament to pass an

Act declaring that the Parliament of England had no power or authority

over Ireland, and this contrary to the provisions of Poynings' Act,

which gave the initiative power to the English Council, and made every

Irish Act invalid unless first submitted to the King and Council of

England.

Having transferred the property of the laity back to the Irish,

another Act made as sweeping a conveyance of that of the Church from

the Protestant to the Catholic clergy. Little regard had been had to

Catholic rights in piling property on the Protestant hierarchy, and

as little was shown in taking it back again. The Anglican clergy were

left in a condition of utter destitution, and more than this, they were

not safe if they appeared in public. They were hooted, pelted, and

sometimes fired at. All colleges and schools from which the Protestants

had excluded the Catholics were now seized and employed as Popish

seminaries or monasteries. The College of Dublin was turned into a

barrack and a prison. No Protestants were allowed to appear together in

numbers more than three, on pain of death. This was James's notion of

the liberty of conscience, and a tender regard for "every man's rights

and liberties." It was a fine lesson, too, for the clergy and gentry

who had welcomed him to Ireland as the friends of passive obedience.

They had now enough of that doctrine, and went over pretty rapidly to a

different notion. The Protestants everywhere were overrun by soldiers

and rapparees. Their estates were seized, their houses plundered, their

persons insulted and abused, and a more fearful condition of things

never existed in any country at any time. The officers of the army sold

the Protestants protections, which were no longer regarded when fresh

marauders wanted more money.

This model Parliament voted twenty thousand pounds a year to Tyrconnel

for bringing this state of things about, and twenty thousand pounds

a month to the king. But the country was so completely desolated,

and its trade so completely destroyed by this reign of terror and of

licence, that James did not find the taxes come in very copiously; and

he resorted to a means of making money plentiful worthy of himself. He

collected all the old pots, pans, brass knockers, old cannon, and metal

in almost any shape, and coined clumsy money out of them, on which he

put about a hundred times their intrinsic value. The consequence was

that shopkeepers refused to receive this base coin. All men to whom

debts were due, or who had mortgages on other men's property, were

opposed to having them discharged by a heap of metal which in a few

weeks might be worth only a few pence a pound. Those who refused such

payment were arrested, and menaced with being hanged at their own

doors. Many were thrown into prison, and trade and intercourse were

plunged into a condition of the wildest anarchy. The whole country was

a scene of violence, confusion, and distress. Such was the state of

Ireland and of James's Court when, as we have seen, Schomberg landed

with his army at Carrickfergus on the 23rd of August, and roused James,

his Court, and the whole country to a sense of their danger, and of

the necessity for one great and universal effort. A spirit of new life

seemed to animate them, and James, receiving fresh hope from the sight,

marched from Dublin at the head of his troops to encounter Schomberg.

During the summer the Court of William had not been an enviable place.

In the spring the Parliament had proceeded to reverse the judgments

which had been passed in the last reign against Lord William Russell,

Algernon Sidney, the Earl of Devonshire, Cornish, Alice Lisle, and

Samuel Johnson. Some of the Whigs who had suffered obtained pecuniary

compensation, but Johnson obtained none. He was deemed by the Whigs

to be too violent--in fact, he was a Radical of that day. The

scoundrel Titus Oates crawled again from his obscurity, and, by help

of his old friends the Whigs, managed to obtain a pension of three

hundred pounds a year. This done, there was an attempt to convert the

Declaration of Rights into a Bill of Rights--thus giving it all the

authority of Parliamentary law; and in this Bill it was proposed, in

case of William, Mary, and Anne all dying without issue, to settle

the succession on the Duchess Sophia of Brunswick Lüneburg, the

daughter of the Queen of Bohemia, and granddaughter of James I.; but

it failed for the time. A Bill of Indemnity was also brought in as an

Act of oblivion of all past offences; but this too was rejected. The

triumphant Whigs, so far from being willing to forgive the Tories who

had supported James, and had been their successful opponents during

the attempts through Titus Oates and his fellow-plotters to exclude

James from the succession, were now clamorous for their blood and

ruin. William refused to comply with their truculent desires, and

became, in consequence, the object of their undisguised hatred. They

particularly directed their combined efforts against Danby, now Earl

of Caermarthen, and Halifax. They demanded that Caermarthen should be

dismissed from the office of President of the Council, and Halifax from

holding the Privy Seal, and being Speaker of the House of Lords. But

William steadfastly resisted their demands, and declared that he had

done enough for them and their friends, and would do no more especially

in the direction of vengeance against such as were disposed to live

quietly and serve the State faithfully.

On the 19th of October the second session of William's first Parliament

met. The Commons were liberal in voting supplies; they granted at once

two million pounds, and declared that they would support the king to

the utmost of their ability in reducing Ireland to his authority,

and in prosecuting the war with France. The required sum was to be

levied partly by a poll-tax, partly by new duties on tea, coffee, and

chocolate, partly by an assessment of one hundred thousand pounds on

the Jews, but chiefly by a tax on real property. The Jews, however,

protested that they would sooner quit the kingdom than submit to the

imposition, and that source was abandoned. The Commons next took up

the Bill of Rights, and passed it, omitting the clause respecting the

succession of the House of Brunswick, which measure was not brought

forward again for eleven years. They, however, took care, at the

suggestion of Burnet to insert a clause that no person who should marry

a Papist should be capable of ascending the throne; and if any one

on the throne so married, the subjects should be absolved from their

allegiance.

[Illustration: FIVE-GUINEA PIECE OF WILLIAM AND MARY.]

[Illustration: CROWN OF WILLIAM AND MARY.]

[Illustration: FOURPENNY PIECE OF WILLIAM AND MARY.]

After thus demonstrating their zeal for maintaining the throne in

affluence and power, the Commons next proceeded to display it in a

careful scrutiny of the mode in which the last supplies had been spent.

The conduct of both army and navy had not been such as to satisfy the

public. The Commons had, indeed, not only excused the defeat of Herbert

at Bantry Bay, but even thanked him for it as though it had been a

victory. But neither had Schomberg effected anything in Ireland; and

he loudly complained that it was impossible to fight with an army that

was not supplied with the necessary food, clothing, or ammunition. This

led to a searching scrutiny into the commissariat department, William

himself being the foremost in the inquiry, and the most frightful

peculation and abuses were brought to light. The muskets and other arms

fell to pieces in the soldiers' hands; and, when fever and pestilence

were decimating the camp there was not a drug to be found, though

one thousand seven hundred pounds had been charged Government for

medicines. What baggage and supplies there were could not be got to the

army for want of horses to draw the waggons; and the very cavalry went

afoot, because Shales, the Commissary-General, had let out the horses

destined for this service to the farmers of Cheshire to do their work.

The meat for the men stank, the brandy was so foully adulterated that

it produced sickness and severe pains. In the navy the case was the

same; and Herbert, now Lord Torrington, was severely blamed for not

being personally at the fleet to see into the condition of his sailors,

but was screened from deserved punishment by his connections. The

king was empowered by Parliament at length to appoint a Commission of

Inquiry to discover the whole extent of the evil, and to take remedies

against its recurrence.

Then the Commons reverted again to their fierce party warfare. Whigs

and Tories manifested an equal desire to crush their opponents if they

had the power, and they kept William in a constant state of uneasiness

by their mutual ferocity, and their alternate eagerness to force him

into persecution and blood. Edmund Ludlow, one of the regicides, who

had managed to escape the murderous vengeance of Charles and James,

but whose companion, John Lisle, had fallen by the hands of Charles's

assassins at Lausanne, had been persuaded that he might now return to

England unmolested. But he soon found that he was mistaken. The Tories

vehemently demanded his arrest of the king, and William was obliged to

promise compliance; but he appeared in no haste in issuing the warrant;

and probably a hint was given to Ludlow, for he escaped again to the

Continent, and there remained till his death.

[Illustration: HALFPENNY OF WILLIAM AND MARY.]

On the other hand, the Whigs were as unrelaxing in their desire of

persecuting the Tories. They refused to proceed with the Indemnity

Bill, which William was anxious to get passed as a final preventive

of their deadly intentions. They arrested and sent to the Tower the

Earls of Peterborough and Salisbury for going over from their party

to that of James in the last reign, in order to impeach them of high

treason. The same was done to Sir Edward Hales and Obadiah Walker. They

appointed a committee to inquire into the share of various individuals

in the deaths of Lord William Russell, Sidney, and others of the Whig

party. The committee was termed "the Committee of Murder," and they

summoned such of the judges, law officers of the Crown, and others as

had taken part in these prosecutions. Sir Dudley North and Halifax were

called before them, and underwent a severe examination; but they did

not succeed in establishing a charge sufficient to commit them upon.

Halifax had already resigned the Speakership of the House of Lords, and

they sought to bring William to deprive him of the Privy Seal. In these

proceedings of the Commons, John Hampden, the grandson of the great

patriot, and John Howe, were the most violent. Hampden went the length

of saying that William ought to dismiss every man who had gone over to

him from the late king, and ought not to employ any one who entertained

Republican principles. This declaration, from a man who had himself

been a full-length Republican and the friend of Sidney, threw the House

into a roar of laughter; but that did not abash Hampden. On behalf of a

committee of the Commons, he drew up an address so violent that it was

altogether dropped, calling on the king to dismiss the authors of the

late malversations and the consequent failures of the army and navy.

The Whigs next brought in a Bill to restore to the corporations

their charters, which had been taken away by Charles II.; but, not

content with the legitimate fact of the restoration of these ancient

rights, they again seized on this as an opportunity for inflicting

a blow on the Tories. They introduced at the instigation of William

Sacheverell, a clause disqualifying for seven years every mayor,

recorder, common councilman, or other officer who had been in any way

a party to the surrender of these charters. They added a penalty of

five hundred pounds and perpetual disqualification for every person

who, in violation of this clause, should presume to hold office in any

corporation. They declared that if the Lords should hesitate to pass

this Bill, they would withhold the supplies till it was acquiesced in.

But William did not hesitate to express his displeasure with the Bill,

and with the indecent hurry with which it was pushed forward. A short

delay was interposed, and meanwhile the news of the intended passing

of the Bill was carried into every quarter of the kingdom, and the

Tories, Peers and Commons, who had gone down to their estates for

Christmas, hastened up to town to oppose it. The battle was furious.

The Whigs flattered themselves that, if they carried this Bill, the

returns to the next Parliament would be such that they should be able

to exclude their opponents from all power and place. After a fierce and

prolonged debate, the Bill was thrown out, and the Tories, elated by

their victory, again brought forward the Indemnity Bill; but this time

they were defeated in turn, and the Whigs immediately proceeded with

their design of converting this Bill into one of pains and penalties;

and to show that they were in earnest, they summoned Sir Robert Sawyer

before the House for his part in the prosecution of the Whigs in the

last reign. He had been Attorney-General, and conducted some of the

worst cases which were decided under Jeffreys and his unprincipled

colleagues, with a spirit which had made him peculiarly odious. The

case of Sir Thomas Armstrong was in particular brought forward--a very

flagrant one. Sir Thomas had been charged with being engaged in the

Rye House plot. He had escaped to the Netherlands, but the authorities

having been bribed to give him up, he was brought back, and hanged,

without a hearing, as an outlaw. It was a barbarous case, and deserved

the severest condemnation. But it was pleaded, on the other hand,

that Sawyer had rendered great services to the Whig cause; that he

had stoutly resisted the attempts of James to introduce Popery and

despotism; that he had resigned his office rather than advocate the

Dispensing Power, and had undertaken the defence of the seven bishops.

No matter; he was excepted from indemnity and expelled the House. A

committee of the whole House proceeded to make out a complete list of

all the offenders to be excluded from the benefit of the Bill.

This brought William to a resolve which, if carried into effect, would

have given a death-blow to the Whig party, and have neutralised the

glory of their accomplishment of the Revolution. He sent for his chief

ministers, and announced to them his determination to relinquish the

fruitless task of endeavouring to govern a country thus torn to pieces

by faction; that he was weary of the whole concern, and would return

to Holland, never more to meddle with English affairs, but abandon

them to the queen; that for ten months he had been vainly endeavouring

to make peace between the factions of Whig and Tory, and to prevent

them from rushing at each other's throats; that they clearly regarded

nothing but their mutual animosities, for in their indulgence they

utterly neglected the urgent affairs of the nation. Their enemy was in

Ireland, yet it had no effect in bringing them to their senses. Still

worse, every department of the Government was overrun with corruption,

peculation, and neglect. The public service was paralysed; the public

peace was entirely destroyed; and as for himself, with far from robust

health and with the duty of settling the Government upon him, it was

useless further to contend; he could contend no longer. A squadron was

ready to bear him away, and he could only hope that they would show

more regard to the wishes of the queen than they had to his.