Whether William was in earnest, or whether he only had recourse to a

ruse to bring the combatants to their senses, the result was the same.

The ministers stood confounded. To drive the king from the country by

their quarrels, and that at a time when the old and implacable enemy

of Protestantism and liberty was at their doors, would be a blow

to freedom and to their own credit from which the most disastrous

consequences must flow. They entreated him on their knees and with

tears to forego this design, promising all that he could desire.

William at length consented to make one more trial; but it was only on

condition that the Bill of Indemnity should pass, and that he should

himself proceed to Ireland, and endeavour, by his own personal and

determined effort, to drive James thence.

Accordingly, on January 27, 1690, he called together the two Houses,

and, announcing his intention to proceed to Ireland, declared the

Parliament dissolved, amid the utmost signs of consternation in the

Whigs, and shouts of exultation from the Tories. This act of William's

to defeat the malice of the Whigs, and his continued firm resistance

to their endeavours to fine and disqualify the Tories, had a wonderful

effect on that party. A numerous body of them deputed Sir John Lowther

to carry their thanks to the king, and assure him that they would

serve him with all their hearts and influence. Numbers of them who had

hitherto stood aloof began to appear at Court, and attended the levee

to kiss the king's hand. William gave orders to liberate those whom the

Whigs had sent to prison on charges of treason.

On the 1st of February the hour arrived in which all ecclesiastics who

had neglected to take the Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy would be

deposed. A considerable number of them came in in time; but Sancroft,

the Primate, and five of his bishops, stood out, and were deprived of

their bishoprics, but were treated with particular lenity.

It was soon found that the conduct of the Whigs had alienated a great

mass of the people. Their endeavours, by Sacheverell's clause, to

disqualify all who had consented to the surrender of the corporation

charters, had made mortal enemies of those persons, many of whom were

at the moment the leading members of the corporations, and therefore

possessing the highest influence on the return of members to the new

Parliament. The same was the case in the country, amongst those who

had been sheriffs or other officers at that period. The consequence

was that the Tories returned a decided majority to the new House, and

amongst them came up Sir Robert Sawyer from Cambridge, whilst the

violence of Hampden had caused his exclusion.

The revival of the Tory influence introduced great changes in the

ministry. Halifax resigned the Privy Seal. Mordaunt--now Earl of

Monmouth--Delamere, Sidney Godolphin, and Admiral Herbert--now Earl of

Torrington--were dismissed. Caermarthen was continued Lord President of

the Council, and Prime Minister. Sir John Lowther was appointed First

Lord of the Treasury, in place of Monmouth. Nottingham retained his

post as Secretary of State; and Thomas Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, was

placed at the head of the Admiralty, Torrington having, to his great

discontent, to yield that position, but retaining that of High Admiral,

and being satisfied by a splendid grant of ten thousand acres of Crown

land in the Peterborough fens. Delamere, too, was soothed on his

dismissal by being created Earl of Warrington. Richard Hampden became

Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Parliament met on the 20th of March, and the Commons, under the new

Tory influence, elected Sir John Trevor Speaker, who was besides made

First Commissioner of the Great Seal. In this man is said to have

commenced that system of Government corruption of Parliament--the

buying up, or buying off of members, which grew to such a height,

and attained its climax under Sir Robert Walpole. Trevor was an

unscrupulous Tory, and Burnet says he was "furnished with such sums

of money as might purchase some votes." He undertook, accordingly,

to manage the party in the House. The Whigs were in the worst of

humours, but they had now learnt that it was not wise to push matters

with the Crown too far, and as a body they watched their opportunity

for recovering by degrees their ascendency. Some of the more violent,

however, as the Earl of Shrewsbury and the notorious Ferguson, entered

into immediate correspondence with James.

William, in his opening speech, dwelt chiefly on the necessity of

settling the revenue, to enable him to proceed to Ireland, and on

passing the Bill of Indemnity; and he was very plain in expressing

his sense of the truculent spirit of party, which, in endeavouring to

wound one another, injured and embarrassed his Government still more.

He informed them that he had drawn up an Act of Grace, constituting the

Bill of Indemnity, and should send it to them for their acceptance;

for it is the practice for all such Acts to proceed from the Crown,

and then to be voted by the Peers, and finally by the Commons. He

then informed them that he left the administration during his absence

in Ireland in the hands of the Queen; and he desired that if any Act

was necessary for the confirmation of that authority, they should

pass it. The Commons at once passed a vote of thanks, and engaged to

support the Government of their Majesties by every means in their

power. On the 27th of March they passed unanimously the four following

resolutions--namely, that all the hereditary revenues of King James,

except the hearth-tax, were vested now in their present Majesties; that

a Bill should be brought in to declare and perpetuate this investment;

that the moiety of the excise granted to Charles and James should be

secured by Bill to their present Majesties for life; and finally, that

the customs which had been granted to Charles and James for their lives

should be granted for four years from the next Christmas. William

was much dissatisfied with the last proviso, and complained that the

Commons should show less confidence in him, who had restored their

liberties, than in Charles and James, who destroyed them. Sir John

Lowther pressed this point on the Commons strongly, but in vain; and

Burnet told King William that there was no disrespect meant towards

him, but that the Commons wished to establish this as a general

principle, protective of future subjects from the evils which the

ill-judged liberality of past Parliaments had produced.

The next measure on which the Whigs and Tories tried their strength

was a Bill brought in by the Whigs to do what was already sufficiently

done in the Bill of Rights--to pronounce William and Mary the rightful

and lawful sovereigns of this realm, and next to declare that all the

acts of the late Convention should be held as valid as laws. The first

part, already sufficiently recognised, was quietly passed over; but the

Tories made a stout opposition to extending the Act beyond the year

1689, on the plea that nothing could convert the self-constituted

Convention into a legal Parliament. But the distinction was a mere

party distinction; for, if the Convention was not a legal body, nothing

could render its acts so. The Earl of Nottingham, who headed this

movement, entered a strong protest on the journal of the Lords against

it, and this protest was signed by many peers, and amongst them the

Whig peers, Bolton, Macclesfield, Stamford, Bedford, Newport, Monmouth,

Herbert, Suffolk, Warrington, and Oxford. The Bill, however, was

carried, and with still more ease in the Commons.

The Tories, mortified at the triumph of the Whigs, now brought in a

Bill to change the military government of the City of London as the

lieutenancy of the counties had been changed. They thanked the king

for having by his measures brought in so many Churchmen and thrown out

so many Nonconformists. This Bill the Whigs managed to impede till the

session closed; but not so with another from the Tory party, ordering

payment of the five hundred pounds fines incurred by all who had taken

office or served as magistrates without taking the necessary Oaths of

Allegiance and Supremacy. This was carried, and the money ordered to be

paid into the Exchequer, and a separate account of it to be kept.

The defeat of the Whigs only infused more fierceness in the party

warfare. They hastened to bring in a Bill compelling every person in

office, civil, ecclesiastical, or military, to take an oath to abjure

King James and his right to the Crown, thence called the Abjuration

Oath. This oath might, moreover, be tendered by any magistrate to any

subject of their Majesties whatever, and whoever refused it was to be

committed to prison, and kept there till he complied. It was hoped by

the Whigs that this Bill would greatly embarrass the Tories who had

taken office under the present monarchy, and accordingly it met with

a decided opposition in the Commons, and was thrown out by a majority

of one hundred and ninety-two to one hundred and seventy-eight. It was

then, with some alteration, introduced as a fresh Bill into the Lords.

William went down to the Lords to listen personally to the debate;

and several of the peers made very free and pertinent remarks on the

uselessness of so many oaths to bind any disloyal or unconscientious

person.

The Bill was defeated in the Lords by being committed, but never

reported, for on the 20th of May, after King William had given his

consent to the Bill, which he had recommended, for conferring on the

queen full powers to administer the government during his absence in

Ireland, and also to that revising the _quo warranto_ judgment against

the City of London, the Marquis of Caermarthen appeared in the House

with an Act of Grace ready drawn and signed by the king.

[Illustration: HENRY VII.'S CHAPEL, WESTMINSTER ABBEY.]

William had tried in vain to curb the deadly animosities of the

contending parties by Bills of Indemnity. These could be discussed

and rejected, not so an Act of Grace: it issued from the sovereign,

and came already signed to Parliament. It must be at once accepted or

rejected by each House, and in such a case as the present, where it

was meant as a healing and pacifying act, it could not be rejected

without a disloyal and ungracious air. Accordingly it was received with

the deference which it deserved, and both Houses gave their sanction

to it, standing bareheaded, and without one dissenting voice. From

the benefit of this Act of Grace, pardoning all past offences, were,

it is true, excepted thirty names, prominent amongst whom were the

Marquis of Powis, the Lords Sunderland, Huntingdon, Dover, Melfort,

and Castlemaine; the Bishops of Durham and St. Davids; the Judges

Herbert, Jenner, Withers, and Holloway; Roger Lestrange; Lundy, the

traitor governor of Londonderry; Father Petre; and Judge Jeffreys. This

last monster of infamy was already deceased in the Tower, but it was

well understood that if the others named only kept themselves at peace

they would never be inquired after. Neither party, however, thanked

William for the constrained peace. The Whigs were disappointed of the

vengeance they burned to enjoy; the Tories, and even those who had the

most narrowly escaped the intended mischief, ungenerously said that if

William had really anything to avenge, he would not have pardoned it.

[Illustration: WILLIAM PENN.]

The day after the passing of this important Act he prorogued

Parliament. The Convocation which had been summoned, and met in Henry

VII.'s Chapel--St. Paul's, its usual meeting-place, having been burnt

down in the Great Fire, was not yet rebuilt--had been prorogued some

time before. Its great topic had been the scheme of comprehension,

which was warmly advocated by Burnet and the more liberal members, but

the High Church was as high and immovable as ever. Nothing could be

accomplished, and from this time the Nonconformists gave up all hope of

any reunion with the Church.

William now made preparations for the Irish campaign. It was time,

for Schomberg had effected little, and the English fleet had done

worse than nothing at sea. It was not only in Ireland that the danger

of William lay, or whence came his troubles. He had to maintain the

contest on the Continent against Louis XIV., against James in Ireland,

against corruption and imbecility in his fleet, against the most

wholesale mismanagement and peculation in every department of the

English Government, and against the feuds and disaffection of his own

courtiers and servants. Whilst the contests which we have just related

were agitating Parliament, William was vigorously at work inquiring

into the malversation all around him. Shales, the Commissary-General,

was dismissed, and a new spirit was introduced into the commissariat

under the vigilant eye of William himself. Instead of the vile poisons

and putrid meats, excellent provisions were supplied to the army.

The villainies by which the poor soldiers had been robbed of their

clothing, and bedding, and tents, terminated, and they were soon well

clothed, lodged, and equipped. The road to Chester swarmed with waggons

conveying wholesome supplies, and a fleet lay there ready to convey

the king over, with additional troops and stores. Before he set out

himself, the army in Ireland amounted to thirty thousand effective men.

But the affairs of the Channel fleet were in the worst possible

condition. William there committed the error of continuing Torrington,

better known as Admiral Herbert--who had been suspected of a leaning

towards James, and who had been already beaten at Bantry Bay--in the

chief command, when he removed him from his post of First Lord of the

Admiralty. Herbert was a debauched, effeminate fellow, indulging in all

sorts of license and luxury, whilst his sailors were suffering the most

atrocious treatment. They had such meat served out to them that neither

they nor even dogs could touch it. They were ill-fed, ill-clothed,

ill-paid; the contractors and the officers were enriching themselves

at their expense; and, what was worse, they were compelled to bear the

disgrace of having our commerce interrupted in all directions by the

French cruisers. Whilst they lay inactive in Portsmouth, the French

scoured the English coast, and captured trading vessels with their

cargoes to the value of six hundred thousand pounds.

William had, however, difficulties at home to surmount before he could

depart for Ireland. Just as he was prepared to set out, the discovery

was made of an extensive traitorous correspondence between a number

of concealed Jacobites and the Court of St. Germains. Some of his

own ministers and courtiers were deep in it. Two messengers had been

despatched from James's queen from St. Germains, with letters to the

conspiring Jacobites. One of these, of the name of Fuller, was induced

by some means to betray the secret. He went boldly to Whitehall,

and delivered his despatches to William. Crone, the other, was

arrested, and soon after another messenger of the name of Tempest. The

disclosures made through this means revealed an extensive ramification

of treason that was enough to appal the stoutest heart and coolest

brain. The queen's own relative, Clarendon, was one of the most zealous

plotters; Ailesbury and Dartmouth, who had both taken the oaths to

the new monarchs, were among the most guilty; and the latter, though

an admiral, was prepared, in connection with other officers, to betray

the coast defences, and to carry over their ships to the enemy. William

Penn was arrested on account of an intercepted letter to James, and

charged with treason; but he denied any treasonable intentions, and

said he only corresponded with James as an old friend. Nothing of a

criminal nature could be proved against him, and he was soon liberated.

Viscount Preston, who had been raised to that dignity by James, but

was not admitted by the peers to possess a valid patent of nobility,

was another; and what was far more mortifying, the Earl of Shrewsbury,

who had so recently resigned the seals as Secretary of State, was

discovered to be deeply implicated. It was found that the conspiracy

was spread far and wide throughout the country, and that the Jacobites

in Worcestershire, Lancashire, Yorkshire, and other northern counties,

were laying in arms and ammunition, and gentlemen who had received

commissions from James were actually mustering and drilling troops

on the solitary moorlands. The correspondence was as active between

England and Ireland, as between England and France.

Amid dangers of such magnitude it may seem strange that William

should venture to leave England, and burthen his wife with the cares

and responsibilities of such a crisis, amid the machinations of so

many determined enemies; but his affairs as imperiously demanded his

presence in Ireland, and he therefore took the best measures that he

could for the assistance and security of the queen. He appointed a

council of nine of the most efficient and trusty persons he could think

of, some Whigs, some Tories. They were Devonshire, Dorset, Monmouth,

Edward Russell, Caermarthen, Pembroke, Nottingham, Marlborough, and

Lowther. In making this selection William must have put aside many

personal prejudices. Marlborough was appointed as most likely to advise

the queen as to military affairs, though he was the known partisan and

adviser of Anne. Russell, who was an admiral and Treasurer of the Navy,

was the person to advise her in naval matters, and Caermarthen was,

from his experience, and as having a great regard for the queen, the

man on whom she could most rely for the management of the main business

of the State. William solemnly laid upon them the great trust which he

reposed in them, and called upon them as men and statesmen, to afford

the queen every assistance which her being left under such trying

circumstances demanded for her. He likewise informed Rochester that

he was well acquainted with the treasonable practices of his brother

Clarendon, and bade him warn him from him to tempt him no further to a

painful severity.

Having arranged this matter, William set out on the 4th of June for

Chester, where he embarked on the 11th, and landed at Carrickfergus

on the 14th. He proceeded immediately towards Belfast, and was met by

Schomberg on the way. William was attended by Prince George of Denmark,

the Duke of Ormond, the Earls of Oxford, Scarborough, and Manchester,

Mr. Boyle, and many other persons of distinction. He appointed the

whole of his army to rendezvous at Loughbrickland, and immediately set

about organising his plans, and preparing his stores for an active

campaign. Before we enter upon that, however, we must take a hasty

glance at what Schomberg had done during the autumn, winter, and spring.

This was little for so numerous an army, commanded by so experienced

a general. Schomberg was, it is true, eighty years of age, and many

complained that time had diminished his fire, and that much more

ought to have been effected. But William, who may be supposed a

most competent judge, cast no blame upon him; on the contrary, he

thanked him for having preserved his army at all, his troops having

had to contend with the horrors of a deficient and most villainous

commissariat, as we have already shown.

Schomberg on landing had taken Carrickfergus, Newry, and Dundalk, where

he entrenched himself. He had found the country through which he passed

a perfect waste. It could afford him no provisions, and, if he were

compelled to fall back, no shelter. James, on his landing, had advanced

from Dublin to Drogheda, where he was with twenty thousand men, besides

vast numbers of wild Irish, armed with scythes, pikes, and skeans. But

Schomberg found himself in no condition for fighting. His baggage could

not reach him for want of waggons, and from the state of the roads.

His arms were many of them good for nothing, being the vile rubbish

furnished by the contractors under the management of the fraudulent

Ministry and the infamous Commissary-General Shales. His soldiers were

suffering from want of proper clothing, shoes, beds, and tents. Worse

still, the soldiers were fast perishing with fever. Bad food, bad

clothing, bad lodging, and drenching and continual rains without proper

shelter, were fast doing their work on the English army. Schomberg did

his best. He stimulated his soldiers to make roofs to their huts of

turf and fern, and to make their beds of heather and fern, raised on

dry mounds above the soaking rains. But all was in vain. The soldiers

were become spiritless and demoralised. They were either too listless

to move or too excited by whisky, which they managed to get, to follow

his recommendations. Scenes like those which appeared in London during

the Plague now horrified his camp. The soldiers gave way to wild

license, drank, swore, sang bacchanalian songs, drank the Devil's

health, and made seats of the corpses of their dead comrades at their

revels, which they declared were the only ones they had to keep them

out of the wet.

The sickness appeared at the same time in the English fleet which lay

off the coast at Carrickfergus, and swept away almost every man from

some of the vessels. By the commencement of November, Schomberg's army

could not number more than five thousand effective men. The Irish

in James's army did not suffer so much, and they rejoiced in the

pestilence which was thus annihilating their heretic enemies. But the

weather at length compelled James to draw off, first to Ardee, and

then into winter quarters in different towns. Schomberg, thus set at

liberty, quickly followed his example, and quartered his troops for the

winter in the different towns of Ulster, fixing his headquarters at

Lisburn. His army had, however, lost above six thousand men by disease.

In February, 1690, the campaign was begun by the Duke of Berwick,

James's natural son, who attacked William's advanced post at Belturbet;

but he met with such a reception that he nearly lost his life, being

severely wounded and having his horse killed under him. In fact, the

condition of the two armies had been completely changed during the

winter by the different management of the two commanders. Schomberg

had been diligently exerting himself to restore the health and to

perfect the discipline of his troops. As spring advanced he received

the benefit of William's exertions and stern reforms in England. Good,

healthy food, good clothing, bedding, tents, and arms arrived. Fresh

troops were from time to time landing, amongst them regiments of German

and Scandinavian mercenaries. By the time of William's arrival the army

was in a fine and vigorous condition, and amounted to thirty thousand

men.

Not so the army of James: it had grown more and more disorderly. James

and his Court had returned to Dublin, where they spent the winter

in the grossest dissoluteness and neglect of all discipline or law.

Gambling, riot, and debauchery scandalised the sober Catholics, who had

hoped for a saviour in James. Of all the army, the cavalry alone had

been maintained by its officers in discipline. The foot soldiers roamed

over the country at pleasure, plundering their own compatriots. James's

own kitchen and larder were supplied by his foragers from the substance

of his subjects, without regard to law or any prospect of payment. It

was in vain that remonstrances were made; James paid no attention to

them. His bad money was gone; he had used up all the old pots, pans,

and cracked cannon, and applied to Louis for fresh remittances, which

did not arrive. To complete the ruin of his affairs, he requested the

withdrawal of Rosen and D'Avaux, who, heartless as they were, saw

the ruinous course things were taking, and remonstrated against it.

Lauzun, an incompetent commander, was sent over to take their place,

accompanied by about seven thousand French infantry. When Lauzun

arrived in Ireland, the desolation of the country, the rude savagery of

the people, and the disorders of the Court and capital, were such as to

strike him and his officers with astonishment and horror. He declared

in his letters to the French minister, Louvois, that the country was in

so frightful a state that no person who had lived in any other could

conceive it; that James's chief functionaries pulled each his different

way, instead of assisting the king; and that "such were the wants,

disunions, and dejection, that the king's affairs looked like the

primitive chaos."

Unfortunately, Lauzun was not the man to reduce chaos to order. He had

accompanied Mary, the queen of James, in her flight from London to

Paris, and had there too won the good graces of Madame Maintenon; and

by the influence of these ladies, who imagined him a great general,

he obtained this important command. He had to fill the place of both

D'Avaux and Rosen, of ambassador and general, without the sagacity and

skill which would have fitted him for either. He conceived the greatest

contempt and hatred of the Irish, and was not likely to work well with

them. Such was the condition in which James was found on the landing of

King William.

William, we have said, pushed on immediately to Belfast, and thence,

without permitting himself to be delayed by the congratulatory

multitudes that surrounded him, he hastened forward to his main army

at Loughbrickland. The soldiers of his army consisted of a variety of

nations, many of whom had won fame under great leaders. There were

Dutch, who had fought under William and his great generals against

those of Louis of France; Germans, Danes, Finlanders, French Huguenots,

now purged of their false countrymen; English and Scottish troops,

who had fought also in Holland, in Tangier, at Killiecrankie; and

Anglo-Irish, who had won such laurels at Londonderry, Enniskillen,

and Newton Butler. All were animated by the presence of the king, and

of his assembled generals of wide renown, and with the confidence of

putting down the Popish king, and his French supporters and Irish

adherents, who had robbed and expelled them and their families. The

Germans and Dutch burned to meet again the French invaders of their

country, the desolators of the Palatinate; and the French Protestants

were as much on fire to avenge themselves on their Catholic countrymen,

who had been their oppressors. It was not merely English troops

acting on ordinary grounds of hostility against Irish ones, but

representatives of almost all Protestant Europe collected to avenge the

wrongs of Protestants and of their own countries.

William was confident in his army, and declared that he was not come

to Ireland to let the grass grow under his feet. Schomberg still

recommended caution when it was no longer needed, and thus gave a

colour to the words of those who accused him of having shown too much

caution already, which they insinuated was but the result of old age.

On the 24th of June, only ten days after landing, William was in full

march southwards. James did not wait for his coming, but abandoned

Dundalk and retreated into Drogheda. His generals, indeed, represented

to him that caution and delay were his best policy against so powerful

a force, and even recommended that he should retreat beyond Dublin and

entrench himself at Athlone, as a more central and defensible position;

but James would not listen to this, and Tyrconnel strengthened him in

the resolution.

[Illustration: JAMES ENTERING DUBLIN AFTER THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE.

(_See p._ 431.)]

The morning of the 1st of July, destined to become a great epoch in

Ireland, rose brilliantly, and the opposing armies were in motion by

four o'clock. William overnight had given the word "Westminster" as

the recognition sign, and ordered his men to wear each a green sprig

in his hat, to distinguish them from the enemy, who, out of compliment

to France, wore a white cockade, generally of paper. According to

William's disposition of battle, Meinhart Schomberg, the son of the old

general, supported by Portland and Douglas with the Scottish guards,

was to take the right and secure the bridge of Slane. He himself

headed the left wing near Drogheda with a strong force of cavalry,

and Schomberg the centre, which was opposite Oldbridge, where he was

supported by the Blues of Solmes, and the brave Londonderries and

Enniskilleners, and on his left the French Huguenots under Caillemot,

and between them and William the Danes. Meinhart Schomberg found the

bridge of Slane already occupied by Sir Neil O'Neil, with a regiment of

Irish Dragoons; but the English charged them briskly, killed O'Neil,

and made themselves masters of the bridge. This was a grand advantage

at the outset. It enabled the English to attack the right wing of

James, and endangered their seizure of the pass of Duleek, a very

narrow defile in the hills, about four miles in their rear, by which

they would cut off altogether their retreat. Lauzun, who had posted

the main strength of the Irish infantry at the foot of Oldbridge,

and supported them by Sarsfield's horse, was compelled to despatch

the horse towards Slane Bridge, to guard against this danger, thus

weakening his centre.

Nearly at the same moment that this movement took place, William put

himself at the head of his cavalry, and with his sword in his left

hand, for his right arm was too sore and stiff from a gunshot received

on the previous day to hold it, he dashed into the river and led his

wing across. At the same moment Schomberg gave the word, and the centre

was in motion. Solmes' Dutch Blues led the way, and their example was

instantly followed by the men of Londonderry and Enniskillen, and at

their left the Huguenots. The men waded through the stream, holding

aloft their muskets and ammunition. The brunt of the encounter was

there, for there the enemy had expected the main attack, and had not

only concentrated their forces there, horse and foot, but had defended

the bank with a breastwork and batteries. The English had to advance

against the deadly fire from these defences, and from the thronging

Irish, who raised the wildest hurrahs, whilst they could return no fire

till they were nearly across and sufficiently raised from the water.

Then they saw the breastwork and the batteries lined with one mass of

foes. They, however, pushed resolutely forward, fired, charged the foe,

and in an instant the whole demoralised Irish broke and fled. Never was

there so complete and ignominious a rout. These men, on whom so much

depended, but who, despite all warnings to James, had been suffered to

plunder and riot without restraint or discipline, now dispersed with

so dastardly a rapidity that it was more like a dream than a reality.

The engagement was now general, from the left where William commanded,

almost under the walls of Drogheda, to the bridge of Slane. The English

and their allies had forced their way across the river, and were

engaged in fierce contest with the Irish horse and the French cavalry

and foot. When Schomberg saw the cavalry of Tyrconnel and Hamilton bear

down upon his centre, and that they had actually driven back Solmes'

Blues into the river, he dashed into the river himself, to rally and

encourage them. Probably stung by a generous sense of shame, for he

had discouraged the attempt to attack the Irish army in that position,

the old man now exhibited an opposite degree of incaution, for without

defensive armour he rushed into the _mêlée_, disregarding the advice

of his officers to put on his cuirass. As he rode through the river,

Caillemot was borne past him to the north bank mortally wounded, but

still crying to his brave Huguenots, "On! on! my lads! To glory! to

glory!" Schomberg took up the cry of encouragement to the men, appalled

by the loss of their general, and said, "Allons, messieurs, voilà vos

persécuteurs!" But scarcely had he uttered the words when he, too,

received a mortal wound and fell. When he was found he was dead, with a

bullet wound through his neck, and a couple of sword gashes on his head.

For half an hour the battle raged with a fury such as the oldest

soldiers of the Netherlands now declared they had never seen surpassed.

Hamilton and Tyrconnel led on their cavalry against Schomberg's forces

with a steadiness and bravery that were as much to their credit as

their conduct in civil life had been disgraceful. William, on his part,

had found a warm reception on the left. The Irish horse withstood him

stoutly, and drove back his guards and the Enniskilleners repeatedly.

On his first coming up to the Enniskilleners, he was mistaken for one

of the enemy, and was near being shot by a trooper. The mistake being

rectified, the Enniskilleners followed him with enthusiasm. William

threw away all thought of danger, and led them into the thickest of the

fight. At one moment a ball carried away the cock of his pistol, at

another the heel of his boot, but he still led on. The Enniskilleners

fought desperately, and the horse of Ginkell charged brilliantly.

[Illustration: KING WILLIAM III. AT THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE.

FROM THE PAINTING PROBABLY BY JAN. WYCK,

IN THE NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY.

]

They were thus fighting their way towards the centre, and had advanced

as far as Plottin Castle, about a mile and a half from Oldbridge,

when the Irish horse made a last furious effort, drove back the

Enniskilleners, and killed a number of them. William rallied them,

and again led them to the charge, broke the Irish cavalry, and took

prisoner Hamilton, who had been heading this gallant charge. When

William saw, wounded and a prisoner, the man who had proved so

traitorous to him when sent to Ireland, he said, "Is this business

over, or will your horse make more fight?" "On my honour, sir," replied

Hamilton, "I believe they will." "_Your_ honour, indeed!" muttered

William; but ordering the wounded man to be properly attended to, he

rode forward to join the main body and end the fight.

That was now soon over. The centre and the right wing had done dreadful

execution. They had nearly annihilated whole regiments. One of them

had only thirty men left without a wound. They had fought in a manner

worthy of a better cause and a better leader, for James had early

abandoned the field, and left his deluded followers to the mercy of the

enemy. No sooner did he see the Irish fly before the enemy at Oldbridge

than, from his safe position on the hill of Donore, he gave orders for

all the baggage and the artillery, except six pieces, already in full

employ in the engagement, to be conveyed with all speed on the road to

Dublin, so as to effect their passage through the defile of Duleek;

and, escorted by Sarsfield's horse, he made all haste after them.

If James was one of the worst and most infatuated monarchs that ever

reigned in time of peace, in war he was the most dastardly. In England

he fled disgracefully on the approach of William, without a blow, and

here again he showed the same utter want of spirit and energy. He had

taken no care to keep his soldiers disciplined and in proper tone for

the coming war, and he deserted them at the first symptoms of reverse.

If the English had pushed on briskly from the bridge of Slane, they

might still have intercepted him, and brought him prisoner to William;

but, the conflict over, they relaxed their efforts, and William gave

orders to spare the flying troops as much as possible. When Lauzun and

Tyrconnel approached the pass of Duleek with their retreating cavalry,

they found it choked with a confused mass of waggons, artillery, and

terrified fugitives. They therefore faced about, and repelled the

pursuers till the rout had got through. The cavalry of William still

followed the flying throng as far as the Neale, a second pass, and till

it grew dark, when they returned to the main army. James continued

his panic flight, however, never stopping till he reached Dublin.

The city had all day been in a state of intense excitement. First had

come the news that William was wounded, then that he was dead; amid

the rejoicing of the Jacobites came the horrid news of the defeat,

followed about sunset by James himself, attended by about two hundred

cavalry, haggard, wayworn, and covered with dust. All that night kept

pouring in the defeated troops, and early in the morning James, not

deeming himself safe, took leave of the mayor, aldermen, and officers

of his army, upbraiding the Irish with their cowardice in having

deserted him almost without a blow, and vowing that he would never

trust to an Irish army again. The Irish returned the compliment, and

declared that, if the English would exchange kings, they were ready to

fight again, and to conquer too. If any man had ever caused his own

misfortune and defeat, it was James; but he never took the means to

avoid discomfiture, and he never saw, or at least, never seemed to see,

that the blame lay with himself. Without, therefore, making another

effort, though he had a large army still on foot, and all the south of

Ireland to employ it in, he continued his flight towards Waterford, in

terror all the way lest he should be overtaken by William's cavalry,

and, reaching Waterford on the third day, he got away by water, without

loss of time, to Kinsale, whence he sailed for France, quitting Ireland

at the spot where he had entered it.

It might have been expected that Tyrconnel and Lauzun would yet

rally their forces at Dublin, and make a resolute stand there. But

the decisive defeat of the Boyne, the untrustworthiness of the Irish

infantry, the loss on the field amounting to upwards of one thousand

five hundred, and those chiefly cavalry, the desertion of vast numbers

of infantry on the road southward, and the precipitate flight of James,

discouraged them. Towards evening of the same day that James left,

Tyrconnel and Lauzun mustered their forces and marched out of the city,

determining to make their stand on the Shannon, within the strong

defences of Athlone and Limerick. No sooner had they evacuated the city

than the Protestants issued from their retreats, liberated all the

prisoners, and sent off messengers to invite William to enter his new

capital in triumph. This he did on the 6th of July, and then made for

Waterford.

William's object in reaching Waterford was to take ship for

England--not, like James, to abandon his army out of mere

cowardice--but in order to protect England too. He had received news

that the French, under Tourville, were hovering on the southern coast

of England; that they had again defeated the British fleet under the

wretched Torrington, and were meditating invasion of the country. He

hastened on; the Irish troops at his approach abandoned Clonmel and

Kilkenny. Waterford was similarly evacuated, and William, nominating

Count Solmes commander-in-chief during his absence, was about to

embark, when he received further intelligence. Tourville had made a

partial descent at Teignmouth in Devonshire, sacked it, and then drawn

off in consequence of the menacing attitude of the inhabitants of the

western counties. He therefore hastened to rejoin his army, which was

on the way towards Limerick, where Douglas had found such resistance

that he had been compelled to raise the siege. On the 9th of August he

sat down before that town, and found the Irish determined to make a

resolute defence of it.

The Irish, ashamed of their conduct at the battle of the Boyne,

and seeing their Saxon masters once more rapidly recovering their

ascendency in the island, one and all, men and officers, determined

on here making a stand to the death. They did not owe their spirit to

their French allies, for Lauzun and his officers ridiculed the idea of

defending the place, which they regarded as most miserably fortified.

Tyrconnel joined them in that opinion; but Sarsfield encouraged his

countrymen, and exhorted them to cast up breastworks of earth, which,

in our times--as at Sebastopol--have convinced military men that they

are far more impervious to cannon than stone or brick walls. He could

not convince the French, who had lost all faith in Irish prowess,

and who pined to return to France from the miseries and privations

of Ireland; nor Tyrconnel, who was old, and completely dispirited by

the action of the Boyne. He and the French drew off with the French

forces into Galway; and Boisseleau, a Frenchman, who _did_ sympathise

with the Irish, and Sarsfield, were left to defend the place. They

had yet twenty thousand men, who were animated by a new spirit, and

were destined to make the defence of Limerick as famous as that of

Londonderry.

Limerick stood partly on an island in the Shannon; and to take that

part it was necessary to have boats, for only a single bridge connected

the two parts of the town, or the two towns, as they were called--the

English and the Irish. William had a quantity of tin boats on the way

for this service, and his cannon and ammunition were also following

him. Sarsfield seized immediately on this circumstance when it came

to his knowledge. He got out of the city in the night, surprised

the escort of the guns, and destroyed the guns, blew up the powder,

and made good his return to the town. This exploit raised Sarsfield

wonderfully in the opinion of his countrymen, and at the same time

raised their own spirits.

William sent for fresh guns from Waterford, and pressed on the siege;

but the autumnal rains began to deluge the low, marshy banks of the

Shannon, and to sweep away his men with fever. The Irish, on the

other hand, had received a fresh stimulus to exertion in the arrival

of Baldearg O'Donnel, the chief of one of the most famous old races

of Ulster, who had been in the service of Spain, and had returned

to assist his countrymen in this last effort to throw off the yoke

of the Saxon. The high veneration for the name of the O'Donnel, and

the character of the man, placed him at the head of a large class of

the Irish in Limerick. There was a prophecy that an O'Donnel was to

conquer the English, and the enthusiastic Celts believed that this was

the time. And, in truth, the prediction appeared beginning to verify

itself, for, after a desperate attempt to take the town by storm on

the 27th of August, William resolved to raise the siege, and place his

troops in healthy quarters for the winter. During this attempt, William

had another narrow escape from a cannon-ball. His men, too, after

breaching the walls in several places, and carrying the counterscarp,

or covered way, suffered great loss. On the 30th the siege was raised,

and William hastened to Waterford, and thence to England. He left

the government of the island in the care of three Lords Justices,

namely, Viscount Sidney, Lord Coningsby, and Sir Charles Porter.

About the same time Tyrconnel and Lauzun quitted Ireland for France,

leaving the affairs of James in a council of civilians, and the army

under a commission, at the head of which stood the Duke of Berwick as

commander-in-chief, and in the very lowest place the brave Sarsfield,

of whom the aged Tyrconnel entertained a jealousy worthy of himself and

of his master.

[Illustration:

_Reproduced by André & Sleigh, Ld., Bushey, Herts._

A LOST CAUSE: THE FLIGHT OF JAMES II. AFTER THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE,

1690.

BY ANDREW C. GOW, R.A. FROM THE PAINTING IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY OF

BRITISH ART. ]

[Illustration: THE FRENCH RETREATING FROM TORBAY. (_See p._ 434.)]

We must now take notice of what had been passing in England and

Scotland during William's campaign in Ireland. Immediately after his

departure the traitor Crone was brought to the bar, and, after a full

and fair trial, convicted and condemned to death. Pardon, however,

was offered him on condition of his revealing what he knew of the

Jacobite machinations. After a violent struggle with himself, and after

two respites, he complied, and gave important information to the Privy

Council. The evidences of an active conspiracy of the Jacobites were

too prominent to be overlooked. Tourville, the French admiral, was

hovering on the coasts of Devon and Dorsetshire, and the Jacobites,

as expecting a descent of a French force, were all in a state of the

greatest excitement. It was deemed necessary to arrest a number of the

most dangerous conspirators, amongst whom was Clarendon, the queen's

uncle; and he and the rest were committed to the Tower. Torrington

was ordered to join the fleet in the Downs, and chase the French

admiral from the coast. At St. Helens he was joined by a powerful

Dutch squadron, under the command of Admiral Evertsen, and they lay

off Ventnor, whilst Tourville with his fleet lay off the Needles.

An engagement was expected every hour, when Torrington was seen to

draw off from the coast of the Isle of Wight, and retreat before the

French admiral towards the Strait of Dover. The alarm in London became

excessive. The scheme of the Jacobites, as it was revealed to the

Council, was to enter the Thames; the Jacobites in London had agreed to

rise and seize the queen, and proclaim James. James himself had engaged

to leave Ireland to Lauzun and Tyrconnel, and throw himself once more

amongst his adherents in England. Another squadron of the French was to

land at Torbay; and the country once in their possession, the united

French fleet was to cut off the return of William from Ireland. With a

knowledge of these plans, and the doubtful conduct of Torrington, the

Privy Council was in a state of great agitation. Caermarthen was for

the most decisive measures, in which he was energetically supported by

Monmouth. They proposed that Russell, who was not only a first-rate

officer, but a determined one, should be sent over to the fleet, and

Monmouth, at his own request, as a military officer, was sent with

him. A dispatch, however, was sent before them, ordering Torrington to

come to an engagement at all hazards, and this compelled him to act

before Russell and Monmouth could get on board. On the 30th of June,

the day before the battle of the Boyne, he felt himself compelled to

come to an engagement with Tourville off Beachy Head. Tourville had

eighty-two men-of-war; the united fleet of England and Holland did not

exceed sixty; but a Blake or Russell would have thought little of the

difference. Torrington, as had been too plainly evident in the affair

of Bantry Bay, was a man of very different stuff. When compelled to

fight, he determined that the Dutch should bear the brunt of it. He

therefore placed the Dutch vessels in the van, and gave the signal to

engage. The Dutch fought with their usual bravery, and for many hours

sustained almost the whole fury of the battle, little supported by

the English. Torrington showed no inclination to engage, but appeared

rather disposed to see the Dutch, whom he hated, annihilated. A few

of the English captains did their duty gallantly; but, so far as

Torrington was concerned, had it not been for the Dutch, the French

might have ascended the Thames, as Van Tromp formerly did, and insulted

the whole seaboard of the country at their pleasure. When the Dutch had

lost two admirals and many other officers they drew off, their ships

being in a terribly shattered condition. One of their dismantled ships

fell into the hands of the French, the others Torrington ordered to

be either burnt or towed away; and, ignominiously retiring into the

Thames, he pulled up the buoys, to prevent the French from following.

Tourville, however, had suffered so much from the Dutch, that he drew

off towards his own coast, and left the Londoners to suffer all the

alarms without the danger of invasion. London, indeed, was in the same

state of terror as in the time of the Dutch invasion of the Thames. The

wildest rumours were every hour arriving. The confidence in Torrington

was gone, and he was generally denounced as being a traitor to the

Government. Either he was a most incompetent commander or his heart was

not in the cause: and the latter was no doubt the fact; for, though

his treason was not patent at this time, it afterwards became certain

enough that he maintained a close correspondence with the Courts of

both St. Germains and Versailles. But, whether traitor or imbecile,

London was in no degree confident of his being able to repel the

French. It was believed by numbers that the dockyards at Chatham would

be destroyed, the ships in the Thames under protection of the Tower be

set fire to, and the Tower itself be cannonaded. To add to the gloom

and affright, the news of the defeat of Count Waldeck at Fleurus, in

the Netherlands, by Luxemburg, Louis's general, just then arrived.

Paris was ablaze with fireworks and rejoicings; London was all gloom

and panic.

And truly there were menacing circumstances. Tourville was bearding

the English on their own coasts; Torrington dared not or would not go

to encounter him; and Marshal Humières lay with a strong force on the

opposite shores, not far from Dunkirk, in readiness, it was believed,

to go on board Tourville's fleet and make a descent on England, where

the Jacobites were prepared to join the invaders. But on the fourth day

after the battle of Beachy Head arrived the news of William's splendid

victory on the Boyne, and the spirit of the nation rose at once. It

was felt that the ascendency of James was over, and the news of his

ignominious flight, which soon followed, completely extinguished the

hopes of his partisans, and gave stability to the throne of William and

Mary.

And this was soon strikingly demonstrated. Tourville triumphantly

ranged along the English coasts, after his victory at Beachy Head,

without opposition, and he now imagined that nothing was necessary to

the restoration of James but a descent on England with a tolerable

force, which was certain to be welcomed by the expectant Jacobites.

Accordingly Tourville took on board a considerable body of soldiers,

and made for the coast of Devon. His fleet numbered a hundred and

eleven sail, but of these a large number were mere Mediterranean

galleys, rowed by slaves, and sent as transports to carry over the

troops. On the 22nd of July he landed at Torbay, where William himself

had landed; but, instead of finding the gentry or the people ready

to join him in support of King James, the whole west rose as one man

at the glare of the beacon signals which blazed on the hill-tops.

Messengers were spurring from place to place all night to carry the

exact intelligence to the authorities; and the next morning all

Devonshire appeared to be marching for Torbay. Tourville speedily

beheld numbers of armed horsemen, the gentry and yeomanry of the

neighbourhood, assembled on the hills, and everything warned him to

embark again as quickly as possible. But he would not retire without

leaving some trace of his visit. He despatched a number of his galleys

to Teignmouth, where the French landed, set fire to the town, burned

down a hundred houses, destroyed the fishing-boats in the harbour,

killed or drove away all the live stock they could find, and demolished

the interior of the churches, the pulpits, the communion-tables, and

the Bibles and Prayer-books, which they tore up and trampled under

foot in their hatred of Protestantism. This specimen of what England

was to expect if she received back James at the point of French

bayonets produced the most salutary effects on the whole nation.

Mary showed herself equal to the emergency in the absence of her

husband. She applied to the Lord Mayor to know what state of defence

the City was in, and received the most prompt and satisfactory answer.

His lordship assured her that the City would stand by her to a man;

that it had ten thousand men, well armed and disciplined, prepared

to march, if necessary, at an hour's notice; that it would raise six

regiments of foot and two regiments of horse at its own cost, and

pay besides into the royal treasury a hundred thousand pounds. The

country everywhere displayed the same loyalty. The yeoman cavalry

of the different counties assembled in arms; those of Suffolk,

Essex, Hertford, and Buckingham, marched to Hounslow Heath, where

Mary received them amid acclamations of loyalty; she received the

cavalry troops of Kent and Surrey on Blackheath. The militia was

called out; noblemen hurried to their counties to take command of

the forces there; and others, amongst whom was the lately recreant

Shrewsbury, flocked to Whitehall to offer their lives and fortunes

for the defence of the throne. The miners of Cornwall appeared, ten

thousand in number, armed as best they might be, ready to expel the

invaders. Those of the Jacobites who stubbornly retained their faith in

James, who still designated him as the "stone which the builders had

foolishly rejected," and who by their secret press urged the people

to the assassination of William, and to vengeance on his Protestant

supporters, slunk into hiding-places and remained prudently quiet.

Even the non-juring clergy and bishops excited the indignation of

the masses as men who encouraged by their conduct the hopes of the

Papists; and the Bishop of Norwich was attacked in his palace, and was

only rescued by the prompt measures of the authorities. The non-jurors

were suspected of leaning not only to James, but to Popery; and a new

liturgy, which had been printed and industriously circulated, praying,

in no ambiguous words, for the restoration of James by a foreign

invasion, and for the murder of William, was widely believed to proceed

from them, although they strenuously denied it.

Such was the position of things in England when William returned from

Ireland. In Scotland great changes had taken place. The remains of the

Jacobite force in the Highlands had been effectually put down. In the

spring of 1690 James had sent over an officer with the commission of

General-in-Chief of the Jacobite forces in Scotland. General Buchan,

therefore, took precedence of the drunken and incompetent Cannon; but

all the troops that he could muster were not more than one thousand

four hundred, and these were surprised and crushed by William's

general, Sir Thomas Livingstone, who occupied Inverness. General

Mackay completed the subjugation of the Highlands by building a fort

at Inverlochy, called, after the king, Fort William, which effectually

held the Camerons and Macdonalds in check. The last chance of James was

over in that quarter.

At Edinburgh the battle with the disaffected politicians came very soon

to a similar end. The most prominent of them, Montgomery, Ross, and

Annandale, offered to yield their opposition if William would admit

them to favour and office; but William disdained to purchase their

adhesion, and they then, in resentment, flung themselves into the arms

of James. The treaty was carried on through the medium of James's

agent in London, one Neville Payne; and Mary, James's queen, sent

over dispatches, creating Montgomery for his treason Earl of Ayr and

Secretary of State, with a pension of ten thousand pounds to relieve

his immediate necessities, for he was miserably poor and harassed by

creditors. Ross was to be made an earl, and have the command of the

Guards; and Annandale was to be a marquis, Lord High Commissioner,

and Governor of Edinburgh Castle. But this measure, which the Court

of St. Germains fondly fancied was going to give them the ascendency

in the Scottish Parliament, produced an exactly contrary effect. The

old Tory Jacobites were so much incensed at this favour shown to these

renegade Whigs, whilst they themselves were passed over, that the whole

plot went to pieces in an explosion of jealousy, and on the meeting of

the nobles the new proselytes of Jacobinism, who were to have turned

the scale in favour of the Stuart dynasty, were found to be utterly

helpless and abandoned.

This turbulent and factious party being thus broken up, and some of

them going over to the new Government voluntarily as the means of

safety, and others being brought over by timely offers of place or

money, the settlement of the affairs of Scotland became tolerably easy.

The Presbyterian religion was declared the established religion of

Scotland. Contrary to the will of William, a Toleration Act for that

kingdom had been rejected. The confession of faith of the Westminster

Assembly was adopted; the remaining Presbyterian ministers who had been

rejected at the Restoration, now reduced from three hundred and fifty

to sixty, were restored, and the Episcopalian ministers were forcibly

ejected in turn, and Presbyterians installed. The old synodal polity

was restored, and the sixty old restored ministers, and such as they

should appoint, were ordered to visit all the different parishes, and

see that none but godly ministers, sound in the Presbyterian faith,

were occupying the manses and the pulpits. This, however, did not

satisfy a section of the old Cameronian school. They complained that

the Parliament had betrayed the Solemn League and Covenant, and had

sworn, and had caused others to swear, to a non-Covenanting monarch,

and they refused to bow the knee to this Baal. Thus a non-juring party

sprang up also in Scotland. In William's opinion, however, too much

had been done in the way of conformity; and on his return from Ireland

he selected as Lord High Commissioner to Scotland Lord Carmichael,

a nobleman of liberal mind, and accompanied this appointment by a

letter to the General Assembly, declaring that he would never consent

to any violent or persecuting measures, and that he expected the same

from them. "We never," he nobly observed, "could be of the mind that

violence was suited to the advancing of true religion; nor do we intend

that our authority shall ever be a tool to the irregular passions of

any party. Moderation is what religion enjoins, what neighbouring

churches expect from you, and what we recommend to you." And the

determination of the monarch put a strong and beneficial restraint on

the spirit of the religious zealots of the North.

[Illustration: EDINBURGH CASTLE IN 1725. (_From a Print of the

Period._)]

William had returned from Ireland with a great accession of power and

_éclat_. He had shown that the imbecile and bigoted James could not

stand for a moment before him; he had reduced Ireland to such general

subjection that the remaining insurgents in the south could not long

hold out. To hasten this result, and to cut off the access of fresh

reinforcements from France, he now sent out an expedition, which had

been some time preparing under Marlborough, to reduce Cork and Kinsale,

and garrison them for himself. That strange but able man, Marlborough,

though he was at this very moment in full correspondence with the Court

of St. Germains so as to meet all chances, and even the now remote

one of James ever regaining the throne, though he was disliked and

suspected by William and Mary, yet himself proposed this expedition,

anxious to grasp some of the glory of re-conquering Ireland, and

perhaps not inattentive to the equally attractive prospect of winning

booty. Marlborough was already lying at Portsmouth with his squadron

when William reached London; and sailing thence on the 18th, he landed

at Cork on the 21st of September, with five thousand men. The Duke of

Würtemberg there joined him with his four thousand Danes, together

making a strong force, but which was in danger of becoming paralysed

by the German duke insisting on taking the chief command on account

of his superior rank. Marlborough was not a man willingly to resign

any position likely to do him honour; but he consented to share the

command, taking it on alternate days. With him he had also the Duke of

Grafton, one of Charles II.'s illegitimate sons, who had fallen under

suspicion of leaning to his uncle James, but, to prove his loyalty to

William, came out as a volunteer. Cork was vigorously attacked, and

in forty-eight hours it capitulated. The garrison, between four and

five thousand men, surrendered as prisoners, and Marlborough promised

to use his endeavours to obtain the favour of William for both them

and the citizens. He forbade his troops to plunder, but was obliged to

use force to repel the hordes of wild people who rushed in and began

ransacking the Catholics. The Duke of Grafton fell in the attack.

Without losing a day, Marlborough sent forward his cavalry to Kinsale

to demand its surrender, and followed with his infantry. The Irish

set fire to the town, and retired into two forts, the Old Fort and

the New Fort. The English, however, managed to put out the fire, and

Marlborough arriving, invested the forts, and took the Old Fort by

storm, killing nearly five hundred men, who refused to surrender.

The garrison of the New Fort, after seeing Marlborough prepared to

storm that too, yielded on condition that they might go to Limerick.

They were twelve hundred strong. In this fort was found abundance of

provisions, a thousand barrels of wheat, and eighty pipes of claret.

Having executed this mission, and secured the two forts for the king,

Marlborough re-embarked, and reached London again in little more than a

month from the day that he sailed from Portsmouth. William, astonished

at the rapidity of this success, declared that there was no officer

living who had seen so little service, who was so qualified for a

general as Marlborough. The English people went still further, and

declared their countryman had achieved more in a single month than the

king's Dutch favourites in two campaigns.

On the 2nd of October William opened the new session of Parliament.

He was received with the warmest demonstrations of attachment. He had

shown himself strong, and James had shown himself weak. The country had

been alarmed by the menace of invasion, and all parties were disposed

to rally round the monarch who gave them every promise of security and

pre-eminence. In his speech he paid the highest tribute to the bravery

of the army, and declared that, had his affairs allowed him to have

begun the campaign earlier, he should have been able to clear the whole

country of the enemy. In order to do that in the ensuing campaign,

and to put a check on the too conspicuous designs of the French, it

would be essential to grant liberal supplies. He reminded them of the

dishonour which had befallen the English flag, and of the necessity of

promptness in Parliament to enable him to wipe away the stain, and to

secure the reputation of England by crushing the efforts of the king of

France.

His speech was received with loud acclamations. Thanks were voted

for his achievements in Ireland, and to the queen for her able

administration during his absence; and the Commons proceeded to vote

supplies on a scale which had yet had no example. The army was fixed

at sixty-nine thousand men, of whom twelve thousand were to consist of

cavalry. The navy was to consist of twenty-eight thousand men; and the

cost of the whole, including ordnance, was estimated at four million

pounds. In return for this unprecedented force and unprecedented

allowance for it, the Commons demanded that they should appoint a

commission of nine to examine and bring forward the accounts: the

commissioners to be all members of their own House. The proposition was

acceded to without opposition by both the peers and the king, and a

Bill, including the appointment of the commissioners, was prepared and

passed. On the 15th of November a Bill received the royal assent for

doubling the excise on beer, ale, and other liquors; and on the 20th

of December another Bill passed for granting certain duties upon East

India goods, wrought silks, and other merchandise; and a second Bill

for increasing the duties on wine, vinegar, and tobacco.

In considering ways and means, the Commons proposed, as they had laid

so many burdens on themselves, that the persons of all those who had

been engaged in the rebellion in Ireland should be attainted, and their

estates confiscated, and the proceeds be applied to the discharge

of the expenses of the war; and they brought in and passed a Bill

for that purpose. But the Lords did not appear inclined to sanction

so wholesale a confiscation of the estates of all the Catholics

of Ireland, as this would have amounted to; nor could it be very

acceptable to the king, though they proposed to place a considerable

portion of the forfeitures at his disposal. The Lords allowed the

Bill to lie on their table, notwithstanding several urgent reminders

from the Commons, and so at last it dropped. This must have been what

William particularly desired, for it was contrary to his natural

clemency to let loose the fiends of party fury after the sufficiently

deadly evils of war, and it was contrary to his promises to many who

had submitted on assurances of impunity; and having got the chief

supplies which he wanted, he sought to shorten the Session as much

as possible, by telling Parliament that, by a certain day, it was

necessary for him to leave for Holland on important affairs. Yet, after

the liberal votes of the Commons, still keeping in memory the disgrace

of the navy, he added that, if some annual provision could be made for

augmenting the navy, and building some new men-of-war, "it would be

a very necessary care for that time, both for the honour and safety

of the nation." The Commons thought so much the same that they voted

an additional five hundred thousand pounds expressly for building new

ships of war.

The last proceeding which marked this Session was the discovery of a

fresh Jacobite plot. The Tory minister Caermarthen had long been the

object of the particular enmity of the Whigs, and they were doing

everything possible to undermine his influence. At last their efforts

appeared to be growing perceptible. The king had introduced into the

ministry, one after another, men to whom Caermarthen had a particular

aversion, or who were particularly hostile to his power. Godolphin was

made First Lord of the Treasury; Marlborough was rising fast in the

military department; and Sidney was sent for by William from Ireland,

without consulting Caermarthen, and appointed Secretary of State. His

enemies were eagerly watching for the favourable moment to come down

on the declining minister and complete his ruin, when he suddenly, at

the very close of the year and the Session, laid before William all

the particulars of a desperate plot of the Jacobites, which showed

plainly enough that a minister of such vigilance was not to be lightly

dispensed with. Fortune, however, rather than his own sagacity, had

favoured the Prime Minister.

The anticipated absence of William from England in the spring appeared

to offer a favourable conjuncture for James making another attempt

for the recovery of the throne. The Jacobites, therefore, had met and

concluded to send three of their number to St. Germains to consult

with the Court there on the best means of effecting this object.

It was proposed that James should make great protestations of his

determination to allow of and secure the political and religious

rights of all his subjects, and that he should come attended only by

so moderate a force that it should not look like a French invasion.

The opinions of the leading Jacobites were to be conveyed by these

messengers in a packet of letters to be carefully concealed; and

amongst the writers of these letters were the Earl of Dartmouth,

Viscount Preston--so-called--and the Earl of Clarendon. This weak

man, whom William had warned through Rochester of his knowledge of

his practices, and who had declared that he would never again meddle

with treason, was again as busy as ever. A vessel was engaged, called

the _James and Elizabeth_, to carry over the three agents, namely,

Preston, Ashton, and Elliott, who were to come on board on the last

night of the year. The skipper of the _James and Elizabeth_, though

offered extraordinary pay for the trip, suspecting what was the nature

of his passengers, gave notice of the fact to Caermarthen, who sent and

boarded the vessel at midnight, when the traitors were secured along

with their papers, which were conveyed to the Secretary of State's

office at Whitehall, where Caermarthen and Nottingham passed the night

in examining the contents of the fatal packet, and the next morning

laid them before the king.

This great discovery, which fell like a thunderbolt on the Jacobites,

was scarcely less disconcerting to the Whigs. It was hopeless after

this to attempt anything against so alert and trusty a minister.

William, relieved from all apprehensions of danger by this timely

discovery, left the three traitors in the custody of his Government,

and the leaders yet at large under their eye, and hastened to get over

to Holland. On the 5th of January he prorogued Parliament till the 31st

of March; and in his farewell speech he said that he thought it proper

to assure them that he should make no grants of the forfeited lands in

England or Ireland; that those matters could be settled in Parliament

in such a manner as should be thought most expedient. Unfortunately,

this was a promise which William failed to keep, and which brought

upon him no lack of trouble in the future. On the 6th, whilst his

English subjects were indulging in all the festivities of the season,

William set out, attended by a splendid train of courtiers, for the

Hague, where a great Congress was appointed to consider the best means

of resisting the aggressions of Louis of France. He was received by his

subjects, after a dangerous voyage, with shouts of joy.

William's spirit and sound sense seemed to reanimate the drooping

energies of the Allies. The quota of troops to be furnished by every

prince was determined; it was agreed to bring two hundred and twenty

thousand men into the field in spring, and never to rest till they

had not only driven Louis from the territories of his neighbours,

but had compelled him to give toleration to his Protestant subjects.

These matters arranged, William made use of the influence which the

new alliance with the Duke of Savoy gave him, to procure a cessation

of the persecutions of the duke's Protestant subjects, the Waldenses.

To him these simple mountain shepherds--Christians of a Church

remaining independent of Rome from the earliest times--owed it that

they could once more live in peace; that numbers of them were released

from dungeons, and their children, who had been torn from them to be

educated in Popery, were restored.

All being thus favourably settled, the princes dispersed to their

several States, and William retired to obtain a short period of

relaxation at Loo. But he was speedily roused from his repose. The

proceedings of the Congress had been closely and anxiously watched by

Louis of France. He saw that its deliberations were certain to produce

a profound impression on Europe, and he resolved to neutralise this

by one of his sudden and telling blows. At once all his available

means and forces were put in motion. A hundred thousand soldiers were

in rapid march on Mons, one of the most important fortresses of the

Spanish Netherlands. Louis did not even trust the operations of this

assault to his famous general, Luxemburg, and the greatest military

genius of the age, Vauban; but he hurried to the scene of action

himself, early as the season was--in March. Five days after the siege

commenced Louis was there, accompanied by the Dauphin, the Dukes of

Orleans and of Chartres. He pushed on the attack with vigour, to have

it over before any assistance could arrive. Though suffering from the

gout, he went about amongst the soldiers, encouraging them by the

blandest and most familiar addresses; helped personally to bind up

their wounds in the hospitals, and partook of the broth prepared for

them. With his quick perception of the dangers from his adversaries, he

had noticed the diversion which it was intended that the Duke of Savoy

should make, by taking the field on that side; and he had suddenly

thrown an army into Savoy, captured Nice, and provided the duke with

enough to do to hold his own. By this means he had been able to bring

from the Maritime Alps a large body of troops to this siege.

William was sensible of the disastrous effect which the fall of

Mons would have on the spirits of his Allies, and on the Courts of

Sweden and Denmark which had been brought to the point of joining

the confederation; he therefore rushed from his place of temporary

retirement, mustered the forces of the States-General, sent dispatches

after the German princes, urging them to bring up all the troops they

could collect to the rescue of Mons, and to the generals of the Spanish

troops in Flanders. By forced marches he advanced towards the devoted

city; but all the vices of confederations were now glaringly apparent

in contrast to the single and prompt action of a despot. The German

princes, naturally slow, were already far off; the Spanish generals

were utterly unprepared for such an emergency; and William found it

almost impossible to procure even horses to drag his artillery and

stores. He sent on, however, hasty messengers to apprise the people of

Mons of his approach; but the vigilance of the French prevented them

from reaching the city. An immense quantity of artillery was thundering

against the walls of Mons; breaches were made in them; a redoubt was

carried, sword in hand; shells fell in showers on the roofs and streets

of the town, which was burning in ten places. The inhabitants, appalled

by the terrible destruction awaiting them, threatened to murder the

garrison if they did not surrender; and the garrison, ignorant of the

relief which William was bringing, surrendered on the 20th of April.

William, deeply chagrined, returned to the Hague, and thence hastened

back to London; whilst Louis, in proud triumph, returned to Versailles

to receive the congratulations of his courtiers on his splendid

_coup-de-main_.

On William's return to London, he found his Government had tried the

traitors, Preston, Ashton, and Elliott. Preston and Ashton were found

guilty, and sentenced to death; Elliott was not brought to trial. By

some it has been asserted that the evidence of his being admitted

into the real interior of the plot was not clear; by others, that he

purchased his escape by disclosures. Ashton was hanged on the 18th of

January--the very day on which William had embarked at Gravesend for

Holland. Preston, after much vacillation between the desire to accept a

proffered pardon and repugnance to the conditions attached to it--that

of making a full disclosure of his accomplices--at length chose life

and dishonour, and made charges against Clarendon, Dartmouth, Turner

Bishop of Ely, and William Penn. Clarendon was sent for a time to the

Tower; Dartmouth, who was accused, as an admiral, of the heinous crime

of intending to betray Portsmouth to the French, indignantly repelled

the accusation, and died in the Tower without having been brought to

trial. Turner escaped to France. Penn was accused of writing to James

to assure him that, with thirty thousand men, he might command England.

But this message to James rested on the evidence of the lying and

infamous Melfort, who was totally unworthy of all belief; and Penn,

so far from shrinking from the charge, went straight to Sidney, the

Secretary of State, and denied the whole allegation. That he had a

friendly feeling for and commiseration of James, he did not deny; but

he declared himself a faithful subject of William and Mary, and, so

far from being willing to aid any design against them, if he became

aware of any such he would at once disclose it. Instead of clapping

Penn in the Tower--which the Government would have done, had they any

such letters inviting James to come over with thirty thousand men,--he

was suffered to depart in full freedom. He afterwards made a religious

journey on the Continent as a minister of the Society of Friends, and

then he returned to England; but without any attempt on the part of

Government to molest him.

But there were deeper and more real traitors than any of these around

William--namely, Admiral Russell, Sidney Godolphin, and Marlborough.

These men, encouraged by the fall of Mons and the triumphant aspect of

Louis's affairs, renewed with fresh activity their intrigues with the

Court of James. It was in vain that William heaped riches, honours,

and places of confidence upon them; they were ready to receive any

amount of favours, but still kept an eye open to the possible return of

James, and made themselves secure of pardon from him, and kept him duly

informed of all the intended movements of William both at home and on

the Continent. Russell was made High Admiral in place of Torrington. He

was Treasurer of the Navy, enjoyed a pension of three thousand pounds

a year, and a grant from the Crown of property of great and increasing

value near Charing Cross. But, with an insatiable greediness, he still

complained of unrequited services; and, having a shoal of poor and

hungry relatives badgering him for places and pensions, he complained

that their incessant demands could not be gratified; and he cherished

the hope that he could sell his treason at a favourable crisis to

King James at no mean price. Godolphin was First Commissioner of the

Treasury, sat in the Privy Council, and enjoyed the confidence of the

sovereign; his former conduct in being one of the most pliant tools

of James, ready to vote for his Act of Indulgence, being overlooked.

Yet he was sworn, through the agency of a Mr. Bulkeley, to serve the

interests of James. Hand in hand with him went Marlborough, who--though

he was now fast overcoming the long-retained prejudices of William,

and had been honoured by his commission in the expedition to Ireland,

and by his warm approbation on his return, and had the prospect of

a brilliant command of the army in Flanders, where he could indulge

his highest ambition--was yet a most thorough traitor, making a

hypocritical pretence of great sorrow to James for his desertion of

him, and, through Colonel Sackville, and Lloyd, the non-juring Bishop

of Norwich, offering, on a good opportunity, to carry over the whole

army to James.

Amid these lurking treasons, the exultation of the Jacobites over the

fall of Mons was open and insolent. They came by swarms out of their

hiding-places, and thronged the Park and the neighbourhood of the

Palace, even insulting the queen in her drives before William's return.

William's indignation on hearing these facts roused him to put the laws

in force against the non-juring bishops. The most extraordinary lenity

had been shown them. They had been suffered to reside in their sees and

occupy their palaces; they had been offered to be excused taking the

oaths on condition that they would live quietly, and discharge their

ecclesiastical functions of ordaining ministers, confirming their young

flocks, and other such duties, but without avail. Now that Turner was

discovered in treasonable correspondence with St. Germains, and the

rest refused to disavow what he had attributed to them in his letters,

it was resolved to eject them. Sancroft was ejected from Lambeth,

and Tillotson was nominated Archbishop of Canterbury in his place;

Ken was removed from Bath and Wells, and Kidder instituted in his

stead. In place of Turner, succeeded Dr. Patrick; Fowler was appointed

to Gloucester, and Cumberland to Peterborough. Soon after Lamplugh,

Archbishop of York, died and Dr. Sharp took his place. Sancroft

continued to maintain all his old pugnacity, and nominated other

bishops in opposition to William's Government as sees fell vacant.

But perhaps the most savage outcry was raised on the appointment of

Dr. Sherlock to the deanery of St. Paul's, vacated by the election of

Tillotson to Canterbury. Tillotson himself was furiously assailed by

the Jacobites as a thief and a false shepherd, who had stolen into the

fold of the rightful pastor. Sherlock had been a zealous non-juror

himself, but had been seriously convinced of the Scriptural ordinance

to submit to any Government, whatever its origin, which was firmly

established. He was, therefore, violently and scurrilously assailed

as a perjured apostate. Amongst the ejected non-juring clergy, Henry

Dodwell was so insolent, that William remarked, "That Dodwell wants

me to put him in prison, but I will disappoint him." The magnanimous

forbearance of William, and the audacious impertinence of the

non-jurors in consequence, form a wonderful contrast.

[Illustration: THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. (_After the Portrait by Sir

Godfrey Kneller._)]

Scarcely had William time to settle these affairs, and arrange the plan

of campaign in Ireland, when he was compelled to return to Holland.

Unaware as yet of the more recent treason of Marlborough, he took

him with him. He had conceived the highest opinion of his military

talents, and he was confirmed in this opinion, on his arrival at the

Hague, by the Prince of Vaudemont, a distinguished commander in the

Dutch service. He praised highly the Generals Talmash and Mackay; as

to Marlborough, he declared that he had every quality of a general;

that his very look showed it, and that he was certainly destined to do

something great. William replied that he was of the same conviction.

William found himself at the head of seventy thousand men of various

nations, the different contingents of the Allies, and the beginning of

the campaign was very promising. He sent Marlborough on to Flanders to

collect the forces there, and form a camp to cover Brussels against

the advance of Luxemburg and the French. His convenient position no

doubt suggested to James the idea of his immediate execution of his

promised treason. James, therefore, sent him word that he expected his

fulfilment of his engagement; but to this startling demand Marlborough

replied that the time was not come. It was necessary to have first

obtained a complete ascendency over the troops, or, instead of

following him, they would abandon him, and the only consequence would

be making things worse. William's immediate arrival put an end to

the temptation, and he marched against Luxemburg, who retired before

him. He next sent a detachment against Marshal Boufflers, who was

besieging Liége, and, having succeeded in this, he crossed the Sambre,

to endeavour to bring Luxemburg to an engagement. But this crafty

general, who had an inferior though well-appointed army, took care to

avoid a general action, calculating that William's army, made up of so

many nonentities, would, if let alone, ere long go to pieces. Thus the

summer was spent in marches and counter-marches without any result,

except of wearying out the patience of William, who in September

surrendered the command to the Prince of Waldeck, and retired to his

favourite hunting-seat at Loo, and soon after returned to England.

The summer campaign was carried on by the Allies in other quarters

with more or less success. In Spain the French made some barbarous

inroads, but were vigorously repelled. They were more successful in

their combat with the Duke of Savoy. Marshal Catinat took several of

their towns, besieged Coni, and advanced within three leagues of Turin,

the duke's capital. Just, however, as they were hoping for a signal

triumph, they were arrested by the appearance of a new hero, destined,

in co-operation with Marlborough, to shake to the foundations the power

of Louis XIV. This was Eugene, Prince of Savoy. Eugene, being joined

by young Schomberg with a few troops, and some money from William, at

the suggestion of Schomberg made a sudden march across the mountains,

raised the siege of Coni, and then, issuing on the plains, drove back

Catinat, and regained Carmagnola. On the Rhine, where the Elector

of Saxony commanded, nothing of moment was effected; but the French

allies, the Turks, who were harassing Austria, received a severe defeat

at Salankeman, on the Danube, which placed the Emperor of Germany at

his ease.

The campaign in Ireland did not begin till June. The condition of that

island during the winter was miserable in the extreme. The ravages

which the Irish--mad with oppression, ignorance, and revenge, let loose

by the frightful policy of James--had inflicted on the country from the

north to the south, such as we have described them, must necessarily

have left it a prey to famine, chaos, and crime. In the north, where

the Protestants had regained the power, there was the commencement

of restoration. Those who had fled to England with their movable

property came swarming back. It was, indeed, to towns burnt down and

fields laid waste; but they brought with them money, and, still more,

indomitable energies, which impelled them instantly to begin rebuilding

their dwellings, at least in such a manner as to shelter them from the

elements, and to cultivate and sow their fields. Commerce came back

with them; and the estuaries of the Foyle, the Lagan, the Bann, the

Carlingford, and the Boyne were busy with ships and boats pouring in

food, seed, and live-stock. So soon as Nature had time to do her part

and to ripen her crops, there would be once more comparative plenty,

and there was an animating prospect of a secure permanence of peace

and order. But in the south, and still more the south-west, where the

troops of James still held their ground, the condition of things was

as appalling as can be conceived. In the north the Protestants kept

a tight hand on the native Irish; they refused them the possession

of arms; they forbade them to proceed more than three miles from

their own dwellings, except to attend market; and not more than five

Papists were to meet together on any occasion or pretence. They forbade

them to approach the frontier within ten miles, to prevent them from

communicating with the enemy. If outrages were committed, they were

visited with unsparing severity. But if the north was strict and yet

struggling, the south was in a fearful state of calamity. The soldiers

traversed the country, levying contributions of cattle and provisions

wherever they could find them. They were no better than so many

bandits and rapparees, who swarmed over the desolated region, carrying

violence, terror, and spoliation wherever they came. There was no money

but James's copper trash, bearing high nominal values. Provisions and

clothes, where they were to be had, fetched incredible prices; and

merchants feared to approach the ports, because they were in as much

danger of wholesale robbery as the shopkeepers and farmers on land.

In the Irish camp the utmost license, disorder, and destitution

prevailed. The Duke of Berwick was elected to command during the

absence of Tyrconnel in France; but his power was a mere fiction, and

he let things take their course. Sarsfield was the only officer who had

any real influence with the soldiers. But early in the spring Tyrconnel

returned, bringing some supplies of money and clothing; and in April a

fleet also arrived, bringing arms, ammunition, flour, and provisions.

With these came what was much needed--two general officers--St. Ruth

and D'Usson. St. Ruth was a general of considerable experience. He

had lately served in Savoy, and had the _prestige_ of victory; but

he was vain and cruel, was mortally hated by the Huguenots for his

persecutions of them, and was called by them "the hangman." His very

name, therefore, was a guarantee for the Huguenot troops in the English

service fighting to the utmost. He was astonished and disgusted at the

dirty, ragged, and disorderly crew that bore the name of the Irish

army; but he began actively to repress their license, and to drill them

into some discipline.

On the 6th of June Ginkell took the field against him with a body of

efficient troops, reinforced by some excellent regiments from Scotland,

and having now under his command Talmash and Mackay, two brave

officers. At the head of the French refugees was the Marquis Ruvigny,

the brother-in-law of General Caillemot, who fell at the Boyne. On

the 7th Ginkell reached Ballymore, and compelled the fortress there,

containing a garrison of one thousand men, to surrender, and sent all

the prisoners to Dublin. Having placed the fortress, which stood on an

island in the lake, in good defence, he marched forward, and, on the

18th, sat down before the very strongly-fortified town of Athlone. On

his march he had been joined by the Duke of Würtemberg and his Danish

division.

Athlone stood on the Shannon, the river cutting it in two. The stream

there was deep and rapid, and was spanned by a bridge on which stood

two mills, worked by the current below, and on the Connaught side was a

strong fort, called King John's Fort, with a tower seventy feet high,

and flanking the river for a distance of two hundred feet. The town

on the Leinster side, where Ginkell was, was defended by bold earthen

ramparts, the most indestructible of any kind by cannon. Ginkell,

however, lost no time in attacking it. On the 20th his cannon were all

in order for bombarding, and he opened a terrible fire on the town.

Under cover of his fire the troops rushed to the walls, and the French

refugees were the first to mount a breach, and one of them, flinging

his grenade, fell with a shout of triumph. His example was quickly

followed. The assailants sprang over the walls in hundreds, clearing

the way with hand grenades; and the Irish giving way, there was a hot

pursuit along the bridge, by which they sought to escape into the other

half of the town. The crash and confusion there were such, that many of

the flying Irish were trodden under foot, and others were forced over

the parapets of the bridge, and perished in the Shannon. The near side

of the town was in Ginkell's possession, with the loss of only twenty

men killed and forty wounded.

The cannonade was continued on the bridge and on the town across the

river, and the next day it was repeated with increased effect from

batteries thrown up along the river bank. The next morning it was

discovered that the mills were greatly damaged; one, indeed, had

taken fire, and its little garrison of sixty men had perished in

it. A great part of the fort had also been beaten down. The French

officers had constructed a _tête-de-pont_ at the end of the bridge

to assist the fort, had broken down some of the arches, and made the

conquest of a passage by the bridge next to impossible. To add to the

difficulty of the enterprise, St. Ruth had hastened from Limerick

with an army superior in numbers to that of Ginkell. But this force

was more imposing in appearance than formidable in reality. St. Ruth,

calculating on the difficulty of the passage, imagined that he could

hold the place with little loss till the autumnal rains drove the

English from the field through sickness. He therefore ordered D'Usson

to attend to the defence of the passage, and fixed his camp about three

miles from the town.

There was a weak spot, however, which was pointed out to Ginkell--a

ford at some little distance from the bridge. It is true that a force

was posted to guard this ford, commanded by Maxwell, an officer who had

recently been to St. Germains with dispatches from the Duke of Berwick,

and was put into command at this ford by Tyrconnel in defiance of St.

Ruth--the interference of Tyrconnel in military affairs, much to the

disgust of St. Ruth, being as constant as if he were commander-in-chief

as well as lord-lieutenant. Sarsfield soon became aware of the design

of Ginkell to attempt this ford, and warned St. Ruth of it. But the

vanity of that officer made him treat the warning with scorn. "What!"

said he, "attempt the ford; they dare not do it, and I so near." Warned

again, he exclaimed, "Monsieur! Ginkell's master ought to hang him

for attempting to take Athlone, and mine ought to hang me if I let

him." Sarsfield, who knew better what the enemy dared do, said as he

withdrew, "He does not know the English."

[Illustration: THE ASSAULT OF ATHLONE. (_See p._ 443.)]

Ginkell himself, after reconnoitring the ford and the breastwork

opposite, had no great desire for the attempt. He continued the

cannonade on the fort and town till the end of June, and it became

necessary, from the want of forage, to advance or retreat. A council

of war was called. Mackay was against the attempt, but Würtemberg,

Talmash, and Ruvigny were for it, and Ginkell, though hesitatingly,

consented. There was observed a degree of carelessness in the Irish

soldiers guarding the ford; there had been a rumour in their camp that

the English were about to retreat in despair, and the light-hearted

Hibernians had begun to relax their vigilance, and to gamble and idle

about. It was resolved to seize the opportunity and dash over at

once. Fifteen hundred grenadiers were selected for the service, and a

handsome present was distributed to each man. The Duke of Würtemberg,

Talmash, and a number of other officers volunteered to accompany them

as privates, and the spirits of the men rose to enthusiasm. In memory

of the auspicious day at the Boyne they stuck each a green twig in

their hats, and, locking their arms twenty abreast, they plunged into

the stream. In their ardour they lifted up the Duke of Würtemberg

and bore him on their shoulders. Six battalions were drawn up ready

to support them, under the command of Mackay. The stream, even at

the ford, was deep enough to reach their chins, and very strong; but

the resolute men pressed on, and soon got firm footing, and, with a

stunning shout, reached the other bank. The Irish, suddenly aroused

to the danger, hurried to the bank, fired a single volley, and broke.

The grenadiers the next moment were over the breastwork, and in full

pursuit of the enemy. In a few minutes they had chased the guards from

the head of the bridge; planks were thrown over the broken arches, and

the troops, rushing over, enabled others to cross in rude pontoons; and

in less than an hour the English were masters of the town, with the

loss of only twelve men killed and about thirty wounded.

[Illustration: SCENE AT THE REMOVAL OF THE IRISH SOLDIERS FROM

LIMERICK. (_See p._ 447.)]

D'Usson made a vain attempt to regain the town; he was repelled with

ruinous loss, and was himself thrown down by the flying rout and nearly

trampled to death. St. Ruth, when he heard that the town was taken,

exclaimed, "Taken! that is impossible, and I close at hand." But he

found it no longer safe to be so close at hand. In the night, covered

with shame at his folly and absurd confidence, he struck his tents, and

made a hasty retreat towards Aghrim, where, encouraged by the natural

strength of bogs and hills, he halted and entrenched himself. There

was the fiercest bickering in the camp; the French party and the Irish

charging each other with the misfortune. St. Ruth, to excuse himself,

laid the blame on Maxwell, whose duty it was to guard the ford. Maxwell

was not there to defend himself, for his soldiers fled faster than

he, and he was made prisoner. But Tyrconnel, who had always supported

Maxwell, protested that he had done his duty like a brave man, and had,

along with himself, repeatedly warned St. Ruth of his temerity. The

dispute rose so high that Tyrconnel quitted the camp, and retired to

Limerick in high dudgeon.

Being relieved from the presence and interference of Tyrconnel, St.

Ruth again resolved to fight. He was stung by the loss of reputation

which he had sustained at Athlone, and by the reflection of its

injurious impression at the Court of France. Sarsfield, one of those

Cassandra-like counsellors who give the most prudent advice but are

never listened to, attempted to dissuade him. He pointed out how far

superior in discipline and bottom were the troops of Ginkell to those

which he now commanded, and recommended a system of excursive warfare,

which should harass and, by seizing favourable crises, defeat the

English piecemeal. His words were lost on St. Ruth, who prepared for

the approach of Ginkell by going amongst his soldiers personally to

rouse their desire to reconquer their good name, and by sending the

priests amongst them to stimulate them by religious motives. Ginkell

did not let him wait long. As soon as he had settled the defences of

Athlone, he pursued his march towards Aghrim.

On the 12th of July he came up with the army of St. Ruth, and found it

very strongly posted. Before him was a morass of half a mile across;

beyond the morass rose the hills round the old ruined castle of Aghrim,

and at their feet, between them and the bog, the infantry were strongly

entrenched, and supported by the cavalry posted commandingly on the

slopes of the hills. Difficult as was the approach, it was recommended

by Mackay to make an instant attack, whilst the spirits of the troops

were high from the first sight of the enemy they had so lately beaten.

The battle was determined on, though it was getting late in the

afternoon. The infantry struck boldly into the red bog, and plunged

on courageously, though often up to their waists in mud and water.

Mackay led his horse against their right, and Eppinger's dragoons and

Portland's horse advanced against their left. The cavalry found their

way through the bogs very difficult; the Dutch and English dragoons

met with a repulse in the pass of Urachree, and the infantry were in

front of the enemy long before the cavalry could operate on the wings.

The Irish infantry that day fought bravely. They poured a fierce fire

into the English, and were well supported by the horse. The battle

became desperate; the English fought their way into the entrenchments,

and drove the Irish up one of the hills; but there they found two old

Danish forts, the old castle of Aghrim, and every hedge and thicket

lined with muskets. The contest was unequal, and the infantry found

themselves at length driven back to the margin of the bog. Elated at

the sight, St. Ruth exclaimed, "The day is ours! Now will we drive

these English back to the gates of Dublin!"

But he was deceived. Talmash rallied the foot, and led them again

to the conflict; and whilst the struggle was renewed and the day

fast closing, St. Ruth perceived the horse of Mackay and Ruvigny,

the English and Huguenot cavalry, approaching on the right. They

came over but a few soldiers abreast, through a narrow track between

the bogs; but they soon formed in a dense body, and St. Ruth rode

off to encounter them and stop them from out-flanking his force. As

he galloped up towards them, a cannon-shot carried off his head.

The officers threw a cloak over his body to prevent his fall from

disheartening his men. But the absence of command was soon felt. The

English fought with fresh fury; and Sarsfield, who was in the rear with

the reserve, waiting orders, did not advance till the Irish ranks were

broken and all was over. The flight became general. The English horse

pursued and hewed down the fugitives as long as they could see; and had

not Sarsfield covered the miserable fugitives with his horse, scarcely

a man of the infantry would have been left.

The English army camped for the night on the ground which had been

occupied by the enemy. Nearly twenty thousand English and their allies

entered the battle against something more than the same number of Irish

and French. On the side of the English six hundred were killed and one

thousand wounded. On the part of the Irish four thousand fell on the

field, and nearly as many are said to have perished in the flight. The

panic-stricken multitude, flinging their arms away, continued their

flight, some of them to Limerick, and others to Galway, where D'Usson

was now in command. Whole waggon-loads of muskets and other arms were

picked up and purchased by Ginkell at a few pence apiece.

The English spent the next day in burying their own dead; but left

the corpses of the Irish on the field, and marched forward to attack

Galway. D'Usson, who had about two thousand five hundred men in Galway,

made at first a show of resistance, calculating on the assistance

of Baldearg O'Donnell. But O'Donnell, after endeavouring in vain to

bargain for an earldom, consented to accept five hundred pounds a year

and a commission in William's army. This unexpected event compelled

D'Usson to surrender, on condition that he might march out and join the

Irish army in its last place of retreat, Limerick.

Ginkell soon followed and invested the town. The last struggle for a

monarch little worthy the cause of so much bloodshed was now to be

fought out. At Limerick the Irish were to make their last stand for

the possession of their native country. If they failed here, the Saxon

remained absolute lord of their soil.

On the 14th of August the advanced guard of Ginkell's army appeared in

sight of Limerick. On the same day Tyrconnel, who was in authority in

this city, died of apoplexy, and D'Usson and Sarsfield were left in

full command of the troops. A commission was produced, which appointed

three lords-justices--Plowden, Fitton, and Nagle; but the city was in

reality a military garrison, and the military ruled. There were fifteen

thousand infantry in the town, and three or four thousand cavalry

posted on the Clare side of the Shannon, communicating with the town on

the island by the Thomond bridge. By this means communication was kept

up with the country on that side, so that provisions might be brought

in; and several cargoes of biscuits and other dry stores were imported

from France. The country all around, however, had been so swept by

successive forages, that it was difficult to collect any cattle or

corn, and the stoutest hearts were little confident of being able to

maintain a long defence.

Ginkell took possession of the Limerick side of the town, and

reoccupied the ground before held by the besiegers. He commenced by

erecting fresh batteries of far heavier cannon than William brought to

bear on the city, and soon poured a fiery storm of balls and shells

into it, which crashed in the roofs and laid whole streets desolate. At

the same time a squadron of English men-of-war sailed up the Shannon,

and closed access to the city or escape from it by water. The town,

however, held out till the 22nd of September, when Ginkell, beginning

to fear the rains and fevers of autumn, and that they might compel him

to draw off, and thus continue the war to another year, determined to

obtain possession of the bridge, and attack the cavalry on the other

side. He therefore passed the river by a bridge of William's tin boats,

and, assaulting the cavalry, put them to utter rout. They left their

camp with many arms and much store of provisions, and fled with as much

precipitation as they had done from Aghrim, scattering again the whole

country with their arms. Ginkell next attacked the fort which defended

the bridge, carried it and the bridge, and thus was able to invest the

whole town. In the haste to draw up the movable part of the bridge

nearest to the city, the soldiers retreating from the fort were shut

out, and a terrible massacre was made of them on the bridge. Out of

eight hundred men only one hundred and twenty escaped into Limerick.

This disaster broke the spirit of the Irish entirely. Even the

stout-hearted Sarsfield was convinced that all was over, and it was

resolved to capitulate. An armistice was agreed to. The Irish demanded

that they should retain their property and their rights; that there

should be perfect freedom for the Catholic worship, a Catholic priest

for every parish, full enjoyment of all municipal privileges, and full

capability to hold all civil and military offices. Ginkell refused

these terms, but offered others so liberal that they were loudly

condemned by the English, who were hungering after the estates of the

Irish. He consented that all such soldiers as desired to continue in

the service of James should be not only allowed to do so, but should

be shipped to France in English vessels; that French vessels should

be permitted to come up and return in safety; that all soldiers who

were willing to enter William's service should be received, and

that on taking the oath of allegiance all past offences should be

overlooked, and they and all Irish subjects taking the oaths should

retain their property, should not be sued for any damages or spoliation

committed during the war, nor prosecuted for any treason, felony, or

misdemeanour, but should, moreover, be capable of holding any office or

practising any profession which they were capable of before the war.

They were to be allowed to exercise their religion in peace as fully as

in the reign of Charles II. It is to the disgrace of England that this

part of the treaty should not have been kept.

These terms were accepted, and the treaty was signed on the 3rd of

October, and thus terminated this war, which, in the vain endeavour

to restore a worthless monarch, had turned Ireland into a desert and

a charnel-house. When it came to the choice of the soldiers to which

banner they would ally themselves, out of the fifteen thousand men,

about ten thousand chose to follow the fortunes of James, and were

shipped off with all speed, as they began to desert in great numbers.

Many of those who actually embarked did it under a solemn assurance

from Sarsfield that their wives and children should go with them; but,

once having the men on board, this pledge was most cruelly broken, and

the greatest part of the women and children were left in frantic misery

on the shore. The scenes which took place on this occasion at Cork are

described as amongst the most heartrending in history. But this agony

once over, the country sank down into a condition of passive but gloomy

quiet, which it required more than a century to dissipate. Whilst

Scotland again and again was agitated by the endeavours to reinstate

the expelled dynasty, Ireland remained passive; and it was not till the

French Revolution scattered its volcanic fires through Europe that she

once more began to shake the yoke on her galled neck. Yet during all

this time a burning sense of her subjection glowed in her blood, and

the name of the Luttrel who went over to the Saxon at the dividing day

at Limerick, and received for his apostacy the estates of his absent

brother, remained a term of execration amongst the Irish. Meanwhile the

Irish regiments which went to France won a brilliant reputation in the

wars of the Continent, and many of the officers rose to high position

in France, in Spain, in Austria, and Prussia. Their descendants still

rank with the nobility of those countries.