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