CHAPTER II.

Dread echoes shall ring With the blood-hounds that bark for thy fugitive king; Anointed by heav'n with the vials of wrath, Behold where he flies on his desolate path.

CAMPBELL.

Throughout the entire night previous to the battle of the Boyne, fearful forebodings and dismal auguries preyed upon the superstitious mind of King James. An owl had perched upon the apex of the royal pretorium, or pavilion, which incessantly hooted mournfully throughout the live-long night; and at break of day, when the army commenced its march, a flight of ravens, the ill-omened birds of augury, accompanied and every where pursued the royal standard, cawing, and wheeling around it in continuous circles; and whenever it became stationary, they winged their hovering flight above it in mid-air, while it waved in the breeze. The same night the royal standard which streamed at Dublin Castle, from Birmingham Tower, and which had been neglected in not having been taken down at the royal departure, was rent in shivers from the force of the storm which that night raged impetuously; and the gilt crown, which had blazed on the top of the standard-staff, was hurled off into an adjoining cemetery. Strange and unearthly noises were heard; and the mournful wail of the banshee was distinctly heard, even amid the howling of the storm; for such were the superstitions of those days, and in which even many of the wise believed!

The troops of King James returned back to the Irish capital, but not, as they had gone forth to battle, elate with hope, and flushed with the expectance of victory. No, they returned with the hurried haste of a rapid rout; while the crimsoned blush of indignant shame and defeat in each visage as it passed, was too fully apparent to the scrutinizing spectator. Fatigue and lassitude seemed somewhat, however, to retard, if not paralize, the return of the troops; while vexation and disappointment were deeply impressed in every look and motion, from the general to the private soldier, which too manifestly told that they had returned covered with defeat, not crowned with victory!

With all the rancour of fanatic rage, and all the ferocity of atrocious civil war, the troops of King William pursued the royal fugitive. And history is wholly silent as to whether any royal mandate was issued to spare the life of King James, the father of Mary, who was the wife of William!

For upwards of four hours, like a pack of ravening hounds tracking the scent of blood, the soldiery continued to pursue at the heels of the fugitives; and not satiated with the carnage of the victory which they had achieved, having strewed the field of battle with three thousand slain, and with which slaughter they might have been fully satiated. However, when the army ceased to pursue the fugitives, it was not from a desire to desist, but from a physical inability to proceed, having become wholly exhausted from the toil of battle, and fatigue of pursuit. And under this conviction, King William gave the troops an entire day to recover from the hardships which they had undergone.

King James, as he retired from the defeat, broke down all the bridges in his rere; which act arose from the suggestions of the French officers,[2] who, impatient to revisit their own country, hurried him from Ireland, and added wings to his fears. As soon as King James had returned to the Castle of Dublin, a letter awaited him from Louis the Fourteenth's own hand, in which the French monarch informed James of the victory of Fleurus, which had put it in his power to draw his garrisons from Flanders to the coast; and also told of the station which his fleet had taken, and prevented his enemies from succouring each other. In this letter Louis urged him instantly to sail for France, and to leave the conduct of the war to his generals, with direct orders to protract it; and promised to land him in England with thirty thousand men. A letter which, while it filled James with hopes, covered him at the same time with mortification, when he reflected upon the contrast between his own situation and that of his ally.

[2] Sir John Dalrymple's Memoirs of England, Scotland, and Ireland.

It is a curious, but undoubted circumstance, that all the dispositions made at the battle of the Boyne by King James, were counting upon defeat, not on victory; for with a presaging mind he reflected that all the precautions which he had taken were contrived to make retreat less dangerous, but not to improve on victory. It was with the same melancholy and ominous foreboding, that previous to the battle he thought proper to despatch Sir Patrick Trant, a commissioner of the Irish revenue, to prepare for him a ship at Waterford, that in case of defeat he might secure his retreat to France![3]

[3] Rapin's History of England.

The Duke of Tyrconnel, who had fully resolved not to abandon the fallen fortunes of his generous, but unfortunate king, made immediate and prompt preparation for accompanying his sovereign into exile; and he proceeded with this intent accordingly to take a tender farewell of his duchess, his beloved daughter, and his sisters. He determined that the duchess, Adelaide, and his sisters, should immediately depart from Ireland, and proceed to the continent; and he recommended that Brussels should be the city where, ultimately, they were to sojourn until more propitious and peaceful times should arrive. To Sir Patricius Placebo, upon whose known fidelity and prudence he felt every reliance, he intrusted these dear pledges to his guidance and protection, and strongly advised and urged their immediate departure for Parkgate, in one of the royal yachts; they were to travel in as private a manner as might be; and having staid a few days with their friends the Bishop of Chester and Mrs. Cartwright, in the ancient city of _Deva_,[4] (as Chester was called when in possession of the Romans,) in order to recover from the fatigue of their voyage; and then they were to proceed to the most convenient and safe port in England, from whence they were to embark for the Netherlands.

[4] Chester was also called _Devana_ by the Romans, and here the "_legio vicessima victrix_" was stationed.

The time of departure now approached, King James's saddle-horses, travelling carriages, his suite and servants, &c. were now all in readiness in the upper castle-yard. The duke, who had been some time sitting with his family, now arose to attend a council, and then to depart with his royal master. He looked mournful and desponding, while cordially and affectionately he bade farewell to his beloved family.

"Go!" said the duchess, in a melancholy accent, but accompanied with a fixed and determined look; "Go, my dear lord, where duty, allegiance, and affection call you, and where your king may well command your presence. Go, and may the same Almighty power that so often hath saved thy life in battle, still guide, protect, and guard thee upon the seas, and in distant lands! But the wife of Tyrconnel breathes no sigh!--the wife of Tyrconnel shall shed no tear at her loved lord's departure! Now a fallen and hapless sovereign well may claim thy presence, for in the summer and sunshine of his fortune he forgot thee not! Indeed hadst thou, my lord, neglected to depart, and to have remained here ingloriously at home, then assuredly there would have been too meet occasion for a wife's sorrow, to witness a husband's shame! But no;--the soul of Tyrconnel shrinks from the touch or thought of aught that is base and ignoble. I will only therefore say, (while she fondly embraced the duke,) my dearest lord--farewell, and still remember me, and mine, and thine!"

The duchess supported this affecting scene with much calmness--nay, with firmness; however, it was apparent that she forcibly subdued, and had conquered her feelings on the occasion.

But it was not so with Adelaide, who wept bitterly while her parents vainly endeavoured to repress those tears which then deeply burst forth, which made her beauteous face more lovely still. Adelaide affectionately doated upon both her parents, who were all tenderness and affection to her: but particularly she loved her father; she was his daily companion in his rides and in his walks. No wonder then, indeed, that Adelaide should be the delight of his eye, and the pride and the happiness of his heart!

The parting of friends is proverbially ever more or less affecting; our minds misgive us, for we know not but this departure of those we love may prove the last. And thus indelibly is associated the feeling and apprehension, that _in this world_ we _may_ not ever meet again!

Immediately previous to the departure of King James from Dublin, on his route for Waterford to embark for France, the king held a council, when the Duke of Tyrconnel formally surrendered to him his patent as chief governor of Ireland, which King James graciously accepted of. The magistracy and common council of the city of Dublin were then introduced, and presented agreeably to the royal command, when King James stated to them, "That he had caused their attendance upon that day, previous to his departure, in consequence of its having been reported to him that upon the event of his departure from the city, and upon King William's approach, it was intended that the city should be given up to plunder, and destroyed by fire."

Among other matters his concluding words were: "I do therefore charge you, by your allegiance, that you neither rifle the city by plunder, nor destroy it by fire; but to your best preserve the peace and tranquillity of this great city."

Having said this, he bowed most affably and king-like to all, and then retired.

Without any further delay King James instantly ordered his suite to draw up at the grand portal of the castle-hall; and this being obeyed, he descended the great stair-case. He was attired in a round beaver hat, surmounted by a large waving plume of ostrich feathers, which were dyed of a crimson colour; he wore a flowing peruke; a leather doublet, richly gilt and embossed, was his dress. The ribbon of the garter flowed gracefully from the right shoulder, while on his left breast sparkled a small embroidered star of the garter; his flowing neck-handkerchief, of rich lace, was tucked under the front of the doublet. He wore large military gloves, with the Vandyke termination. His small-clothes corresponded with the doublet, terminating with castellated trappings at the knees; and on his feet he wore sandals, or royal _talaria_, richly laced, with the Vandyke point; nearly a fac-simile of which may be seen in an engraving of Le-Bas, from the celebrated painting of _l'Enfant Prodigue_ of Teniers: while over his majestic shoulders was flung a royal roquelaire of rich crimson velvet, lined with ermine, and clasped in front with a gold fibula, richly studded with diamonds.

The unfortunate James forthwith approached his Normandy charger, which having borne him from defeat, was now destined to bear him on his way to exile from the throne of his fathers! He now with great grace and facility adroitly and majestically mounted his steed, and uncovering his head, and gracefully bowing to all, set out on his melancholy way, surrounded by his general officers and staff, proceeding on his return to France, a second time to seek an asylum at St. Germains.

He had just passed through Dame-gate, (now no more existing,) and which led into the present crowded thoroughfare of Dame-street--at least such it had been previous to the fatal and destructive union of the two legislatures of Great Britain and Ireland--when two men of the vulgar description of lounging blackguards that formerly infested the streets of Dublin, (whose number fortunately has decreased, is hourly decreasing, and is at the present point of time duly diminished, if not wholly eradicated,) impudently here advanced, and were of that description which might be called half wits and whole knaves, with a tongue glib at joke or slander, and a hand alert and adroit in cleaning a shoe, as it was prompt and tricky in picking a pocket. These fellows now commenced whistling, tenor and counter-tenor, but in a subdued measure, the tune of "Lilli burlero."[5] This was evidently not music to the royal ear, for it was quite fully apparent that it deeply annoyed the royal James. The Duke of Tyrconnel immediately intimated to the officer of dragoons who rode with him, to order the trumpets to peal forth a loyal note; which was instantly done, and "Lilli burlero" soon was silenced. The reader may possibly recollect that this song attached a large portion of unpopularity and ridicule to the cause of King James, against whom and the Duke of Tyrconnel this lampoon was written. It has been attributed to Lord Wharton, but we are rather inclined to ascribe this satirical song to Lord Bath.

[5] This ballad will be found in the second volume of "Bishop Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, page 405." And it will no doubt be recollected by the reader that the celebrated Sterne makes this tune to be the favourite air of Uncle Toby in "Tristram Shandy." In speaking of this ballad, Bishop Percy remarks, that "the following rhymes, slight and insignificant as they now may seem, had once a more powerful effect than either the Philippic of Demosthenes or Cicero; and contributed not a little towards the great revolution in 1688."

As the unfortunate monarch rode along, the tradesmen in the principal streets through which he was to pass, had caused all their shop windows to be closed; a silent, but impressive and delicate, tribute to fallen greatness! James deeply felt it. "Generous nation!" thought he, "much have I wronged you, but now you forget it all. You have indeed shed your best and bravest blood in my defence; and now on my fall, and my final departure, you pay me this last, silent, but sincere, tribute of regret at my departure. Oh, indeed I never shall--never can forget you!"

Having passed through the city of Dublin and the adjoining villages, the royal fugitive proceeded in his flight, and soon reached the borders of the county of Dublin. Here, beneath a vast cromlech, was seen seated an ancient harper, his long thin grey locks streaming in the breeze; he heeded not the royal cavalcade as they were passing along, but still continued playing on his harp a mournful melody, sad and solemn as the _Cath Eachroma_. Meanwhile King James had reined in his Normandy steed to listen to the song. The bard again commenced in a measure, _dólce ed affettuóso_, the following

BALLAD.

I heard them repining for Erin declining, Her shamrock entwining the conqueror's sword; Misfortune combining, his crown James resigning, His laurels all blasted at Boyne's fatal ford!

Lo! neglected her lyre, whose magical fire Rous'd princes and chieftains in battle array; Erin's minstrels and bards indignant expire, They saw not, survived not, their country's decay!

Wherever I wander I mournful ponder, Lamenting the issue of Boyne's woful fray; O Erin, my country! no lover loved fonder, Tho' fame with thy freedom have parted asunder; Like summer clouds fleeting at close of the day, Their glories fast fading in twilight away!

King James did not appear, in sooth, to be overcharmed with this mournful ditty; and having hasty recourse to his spur, he pressed onward his gallant courser; when dropping one of his stirrups, like Jason of yore, of Argonautic fame; in this expedition the king lost one of his sandals, or royal _talaria_. So far the mishap differed from Jason's case, that it fell not into a stream, but upon dry ground; and tradition, to the present hour, points out the place, or, as the gentlemen of the long robe would express it, "lays the venue" at Red Gap, where this occurrence took place.

Whether the royal sandal was, or was not, made of _red_ Morocco, or Turkey leather, which thus may have happily given an _agnomen_ to the gap, seems such a dilemma, that we shall not rashly venture to pronounce upon so knotty and important a point as it appears, but leave the discussion to learned antiquaries, and the exposition to profound etymologists, more conversant with such grave and consequential matters than we can possibly presume to be acquainted withal.

At this place King James alighted from his horse, and accompanied by the Duke of Tyrconnel, entered the royal travelling carriage. No occurrence worthy of notice took place during the remainder of the journey; and the same evening the royal cavalcade reached Waterford in perfect safety. There Sir Nicholas Porter, the mayor of Waterford, and the corporation, respectfully waited upon King James; and the mayor had a grand banquet most hospitably prepared at Reginald's Tower, where the king dined and slept.

The Duke of Tyrconnel expressed his ardent wishes and determination to accompany his royal master to France, which King James said he would not hear of, nor admit. The king then took a valuable diamond ring from his royal hand, and placing it on Tyrconnel's, he said, with much feeling and emphasis, while he warmly pressed the hand upon which he placed it, "Tyrconnel, I well know that you _will_ remember me!"

"Yes, my beneficent Sire, I shall beyond all possibility of doubt; when I shall forget my beloved king, then may heaven for ever forget and forsake me!"

Here Tyrconnel knelt, and with warm affectionate zeal and affection kissed the hand of the royal exile.

"Wear that, Tyrconnel, as a pledge of my unaltered and unalterable affection. I am at present, from the cogency and crisis that my fortunes have assumed, necessitated to yield to superior force; but I shall never cease to labour for the deliverance of my faithful Irish subjects so long as I shall live."

He then added in a slow, solemn, and affecting tone: "I charge you, Tyrconnel, upon your allegiance, and by your love for me, to hasten, so soon as you shall witness my embarkation, to return back to the bosom of your family; restore a husband to your wife, and, to _my_ Adelaide--my beauteous god-child, a father. Hasten to go! and the most affectionate regards of your faithful sovereign and friend attend you! I say prepare to go!"

"Please your Majesty," the duke replied, "I most respectfully obey; but surely your Highness will not, cannot, I humbly hope, refuse me a boon, and that which I respectfully conceive to be merely the duty of a loyal subject to claim, and that is, my liege, to witness your safe return to Saint Germains; and then I will return to my family."

This request was at once acceded to by King James; who concluded by saying, "I was indeed born to be the sport of fortune!" This he had often said before; and now he repeated his favourite apothegm.

King James withdrew to repose at an early hour; and Tyrconnel, who slept in the outward room, adjoining his sovereign, was in attendance. The Duke of Tyrconnel retired to bed, but not to repose. He now rapidly retraced in mental review the occurrences of years, and the still more surprising events, the fatal result of a very few days, that had so rapidly succeeded each other in a fatally consecutive train. "Oh, what a contrast," he thought, "there is between the triumphant landing some months before at Kinsale, and the deeply humiliating departure that upon the following day shall take place on the royal embarkation from Waterford!"

Oppressed more by mental than bodily fatigue, at length Tyrconnel insensibly sunk into a profound sleep; but it was unaccompanied with that refreshment which the balmy sleep of health ought to bestow. It was restless and disturbed. The vision of his beloved monarch's landing at Kinsale floated in vivid colours before him, and once more presented in detail the event as it had happened; once more he stood uncovered upon the beech of Kinsale, anxiously awaiting the landing of his sovereign, and to pay his dutiful homage; once more he heard the loud exultant exclamations of congregated thousands; once more he witnessed the rapid flash, and heard the succeeding thunder of deep-toned salutation

"From the loud cannons' mouth."

Again standards waved in the air, and were lowered to the earth, to hail the sovereign's auspicious approach; the military presented arms; the burst of harmony from the various regimental bands, and the universal shouts of joy made the welkin ring. The entire body of the Roman ecclesiastics, all habited in their meet and proper costume, assembled, and kneeled upon the beach, while the host was borne in high and solemn procession. The congregated nobles and gentry were all duly marshalled upon the strand, in meet accordance to their rank and dignity, loyally and affectionately to receive, and congratulate the arrival of their beloved monarch, while "every inch a king," and right royally arrayed, standing erect in the royal pinnace which rowed him to the Irish shore; while the royal standard floated at the stern, and the stately pinnace, decked and emblazoned with all the circumstance, pride, and splendour of heraldic pomp, blazed forth richly illumined by a vernal sun, and seemed at once to diffuse hope, joy, and confidence around.

Here, upon his landing, King James was welcomed by a number of young persons of both sexes--the one remarkable for their manly graces, as the other for their lovely faces and forms--who joined hands in the celebrated _Rinceadh-Fada_,[6] or Irish dance, which pleased the monarch exceeding well, who often afterwards spoke of it, saying how highly he had been delighted with it. King James now approached Tyrconnel, whom he warmly grasped. Upon this "the fabric of his vision" was completely dissolved; for Tyrconnel was now broad awake. He took off the diamond ring which his royal master had given him the night before, devoutly pressed it to his lips, and arose, for it was now day, feverish and unrefreshed from his couch.

[6] The _Rinceadh-Fada_, or Irish dance, is thus described by the late Mr. Cooper Walker: "When that unfortunate Prince, James II., landed at Kinsale, his friends who awaited his arrival on the sea shore received him with the _Rinceadh-Fada_, or Irish dance, the figure and execution of which delighted him exceedingly. This was the figure: Three persons abreast, each holding a corner of a white handkerchief, first moved forward a few paces to slow music; the rest of the dancers followed two and two, a white handkerchief held between each. Then the dance began, the music suddenly changing to brisk time; the dancers then passed with a quick step under the handkerchief of the three in front; they wheeled round in semi-circles, forming a variety of pleasing and animating evolutions, interspersed at intervals with _entrè chants_, or cuts; they then united, and fell back again in their original places behind, and paused. Perhaps the classical reader will find--and we think he may--a similarity between our _Rinceadh-Fada_ and the festal dance of the Greeks."--_Historical Memoirs of the Irish Bards_, 4to., Dublin, 1786, pp. 151, 152, 154.

Mr. Walker adds in a note, "Before we adopted the French style of dancing, our public and private balls used always to conclude with the _Rinceadh-Fada_."

He opened the casement of his window to admit the balmy breeze of the morning, and taking from his finger the diamond ring, he cut with its sharp and brilliant point the following lines on a pane of the lattice:--

When Boyne ran red with human gore, And royal Stuart fled Donore; While William seiz'd King James's throne, A people's voice had made his own; This tow'r did friendly refuge give To James, the royal fugitive; And loyal love had here the pow'r Awhile to cheer misfortune's hour!

Oh, then for aye this antique tow'r be blest, Which succour gave to royalty opprest!

King James and his suite having breakfasted, and all matters being in readiness, the embarkation commenced. Gloom, silence, and despondence seemed every where to prevail. The king, in ascending the vessel prepared for him, and which was called "the Count de Lauzun," was assisted by the Duke of Berwick, the Duke of Tyrconnel, Marquis Powis, the Marquis d'Avaux, ambassador of France, &c. &c. &c. But it was amid universal silence they embarked! No shout, cheer, or exclamation, was heard; no pomp, no parade, was exhibited; not even a royal salute from the guns in the harbour!

However, amongst the populace there was, or seemed to be, a feeling of pity, but somewhat allied to contempt, and more approaching anger rather than sorrow. Thus the royal exile departed from the shores of Ireland, without a single cap having been flung up, or an individual voice to exclaim,

"God save King James!"

Such ever is the fate of fallen greatness! King James now spread full sail for the coast of France, and was the first who brought tidings of his own dreadful defeat.[7] All the French court appeared to be much affected, and sorrow was manifested throughout the entire realm. But one piece of news so sad for France, was immediately followed by another, which produced a general joy,[8] although, however, it was of short duration in the hearts of all those who were interested in the disgrace of that fugitive prince.[9] A _valet de chambre_ of King James, who preceded his master, returning from Ireland to Paris, related as a fact that the Prince of Orange was killed by a cannon shot, which he had received on the day of the battle.

[7] Rapin's History of England.

[8] Histoire de Guillaume III.--Tom. II. p. 87, 88.

[9] Ibid.--Tom. II. p. 88, 89. Histoire du Pays Bas. Tom. III.

The prince was considered dead throughout all France; and as one believes with facility what they are desirous should happen, people did not wish to stop or examine if that news should prove false. The report, as circulated, was, that the Prince of Orange had been killed by a cannon shot in fording the river Boyne. The first account which they had at Paris arrived at midnight; and all the commissioners of the wards were despatched, by order of Louis XIVth, to knock at the doors of the citizens, and to tell them in a triumphant tone that the Prince of Orange was dead, and that they must arise and rejoice! At the expiration of a few moments the whole city appeared illuminated. Drums and trumpets were heard in all directions, nor was there to be seen a single street where they had not lighted fires. Never, even at the birth of princes, had been displayed so many attestations of joy as then blazed abroad in France, at the account of the pretended death of the Prince of Orange. The populace hastily made effigies of King William and Queen Mary, which they drew through the dirt, treated with every indignity, and afterwards burned them. The bells of _Notre Dame_, and many other churches rang peals of joy, and the cannon of the Bastile were fired. Finally, nothing was forgotten which was customary to be done on the most solemn occasions. These rejoicings lasted for many days, which were celebrated in feasts and all other kinds of diversions.

The public joy spread itself from Paris to all the other cities, accompanied with the news of the death which was the cause of it. But it was more astonishing, and what, perhaps, no prince ever before did for the death of an enemy, the King of France gave orders to all the garrisons of provinces to cause to be fired _feux de joiè_ in all places of public resort!--and, finally, to crown all, (what horrid impiety!) even religion was called in and made a partaker of the public joy!

_Te Deum_ was chanted in the cathedral church of _Notre Dame_, where members of the parliament assisted, clad in their red robes, to return thanks to heaven for the death of the Prince of Orange!!![10]

[10] Histoire de Roy Guillaume III. Tom, II. p. 89.--Amsterdam, 1703.

For the present we must proceed to other matters, while the Duke of Tyrconnel is employed in attending his unfortunate sovereign[11] to the court of Saint Germains, and while the duchess and her family, escorted by Sir Patricius Placebo, are performing their voyage to Parkgate, we must, in the mean time, advert to our shipwrecked voyagers, who were very early noticed in our history, and whom, with very little consideration indeed upon our part, we have allowed so long to remain at Ostend, and in durance vile.

[11] The great and prominent fault of King James II., and which formed the head and front of his political offences, was no doubt his arbitrary government, and the decided preference which he gave to Catholics in preference--nay, to the total exclusion of Protestants from all emoluments in the State, and furthermore enforced by bills of pains and penalties, and attainders! Upon this fatal rock his fortunes were wrecked, and he lost his throne. Since this time the converse of the proposition has been unhappily and unwisely but too often acted upon. But let the past be buried in oblivion, and mutual animosities be forgiven and forgotten! A bright and happy period seems now about to arise to give peace and tranquillity to a country too long depressed by civil and irreligious jars; the sun of peace seems, with bland promise, about to illumine the horizon of hitherto distracted Erin, by snapping asunder the bonds which have for ages manacled a brave and noble people; and it is fondly believed and hoped that a long desired great and liberal measure shall in no long space of time be effected by the "_Roy le veult_" of a great and mighty king, the most generous, enlightened, and accomplished prince, who ever adorned the throne of Britain, and who well indeed may be called PATER PATRIÆ, the father and the benefactor of ALL his people!

"It was omitted to mention in the foregoing chapter that King James, in his passage to France, met with the French fleet of frigates which M. Seignelai had originally intended to burn the English shipping on the coast of England, and which subsequently was destined to burn William's transports upon the coast of Ireland;--but communicating to other nations the bad fortune which attended himself, he carried it back to France with him for the security of his person."--_Rapin's History of England._

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