"

in his "Memoirs" (a book which is often named as a dependable authority), when speaking of the retreat from the Boyne, that William was very well pleased to build them a golden bridge, and give them every facility to escape. "In truth," he adds, "the inaction of the enemy's army might have been caused by the death of the Duke of Schomberg, who had been killed at the combat at Oldbridge; and, without detracting from the reputation of the Prince of Orange, it may be affirmed that Schomberg was the better general of the two.' Whatever may be the opinion as to William's skill in command, posterity has generally agreed that he was personally intrepid; but the Duke of Berwick's testimony goes to strip him even of that commonplace recommendation. Of Steenkirk, fought in 1692, he tells us that "the Prince of Orange committed two great faults in this battle. The first, in not attacking both our flanks at the same time; the second, in not having supported the troops who made the first attack by fresh reserves. If he had done so, I cannot tell what might have happened; but I have been assured that, during the action, the Prince remained immovable at a great distance from the field, giving no orders, although his generals every moment sent to demand assistance." This, if we are to believe other historians, is far, indeed, from a correct account of what happened. William's army was not strong enough to permit him to hazard a double assault on Luxembourg's flanks, without weakening his own centre to an extent which would have enabled an active opponent to cut him in two. It is also quite certain, that when the English battalions in their headlong charge broke the French line, William repeatedly ordered Count Solmes to advance to their support with the reserve and the horse; instead of which he remain. ed inactive, and was reported to have said to those about him, "Let us see what sport these English bull-dogs will make us."

This was even worse than if he had turned to the right about with his divi

sion, and galloped manfully off the field, as the Colonel of the Cumberland Hussars (of Hanover) afterwards did at Waterloo, in 1815, with his regiment, when ordered by the Duke of Wellington to charge the enemy. William then brought up the reserve in person, and extricated the remains of his brave infantry. It is to be regretted that he did not ride up to his disobedient lieutenant, depart from his habitual phlegm, and shoot him on the spot, as the Duke of Somerset clove the recreant Lord Wenlock to his saddle, at Tewksbury, under similar provocation. Again, the Duke of Berwick, when taken prisoner by his maternal uncle, General Churchill (the great Duke of Marlborough's younger brother), at the battle of Landen, in 1793, says, "We rode a long time in search of the Prince of Orange without finding him; at last we reached him, very far distant from the field, and in a spot where there were neither friends nor enemies." In opposition to this, Marshal Luxembourg himself has admitted, with warm admiration, the courage and activity displayed by William in the battle, as well as his skill in conducting the retreat. Finally, in summing up his character after death, Berwick concludes, that "He was very ambitious and enterprising, but no general. He was suspected of not having much courage; nevertheless it may be said of him, as of many others, that he was brave until the time came to draw his sword." A very contemptible measure of personal prowess in a great captain. These strictures afford a memorable example of how determined prejudice can distort clear judgment. The Duke of Berwick has always been accounted an honourable man, a bold warrior himself, an able general, and bore in every relation of life a high character. But it must be remembered that he was also the natural son of James II.,† and could scarcely be expected to speak with favour of the competitor who, by de throning his father, had marred his own prospects. Such statements, therefore, from a bitter adversary, must be taken with ample allowance.

They are seldom noticed, and cannot weigh against superior evidence on the other side. An author belonging to the nation he hated, and was always warring with, describes him with more justice:

"The Prince of Orange," he says, "under the phlegmatic disposition of a Dutchman, had an ardent thirst of glory, which ap-peared upon all occasions in his conduct, but never in his conversation. His temper was cold and severe, though his parts were quick, active, and penetrating. His courage, which was undaunted, made his body, which was weak and languishing, support fatigues that were superior to his strength. He was brave without vanity; ambitious without pride; born with a constitutional obstinacy proper to combat adversity, fond of business and war, unacquainted with the pleasures attendant upon greatness, or even those annexed to humanity; and, in short, almost in everything the contrary of Louis XIV."*

Whatever might be the faults of William, he was the very opposite of a poltroon; but the same idle charge has been brought against Cromwell and Napoleon. The memory of the "great Nassau" must ever be respected by English soldiers, when they reflect on the indomitable resistance he opposed to the sweeping ambition of the French monarch, while his repulses and heavy campaigns in Flanders, innured the nation to continental war on the grand scale, and prepared the way for the coming glories of Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde, and Malplaquet.

There have been many scandalous stories propagated to the injury of King William's character; some of the most offensive by his friend and avowed partisan, Bishop Burnet; but it is not generally known that his besetting vice was dram-drinking.

His

constitution was naturally feeble, and having impaired it by immense fatigue, both of body and mind, he had recourse to that dangerous and unsuccessful expedient to renovate his powers. William was in general so feeble, that, towards the end of his life, he was lifted on horseback, but when once in the seat, no one could better manage a charger than himself.

After the departure of King James, Tyrconnell, acting as Lord Lieutenant, assumed the direction of his affairs. Dissensions and quarrels amongst the Irish leaders increased as rapidly as their enemy advanced slowly. The remains of the Jacobite army concentrated at Limerick, resolved to make another effort, and were not yet hopeless of success. William took his time, and entered Dublin on the 6th of July. Three days afterwards he marched towards Waterford, which surrendered on his approach; but he previously detached Lieut.-General Douglas, with twelve thousand men, ten regiments of infantry, and five of horse, to reduce the strong fortress of Athlone. A trusty officer commanded there, Colonel Richard Grace, the veteran who had baffled Cromwell, and one who was not likely to be taken unawares.† Sarsfield, ever on the alert, and being well supplied with information, an important secret in successful generalship, collected together a sufficient force, and hastened to interrupt the movements of Douglas, who, fearing to be hemmed in between the town and the troops coming to its relief, was compelled, by some bold manœuvres, to retire quickly before an opponent weaker in numbers than himself, and to take post at Mullingar, where he waited for further orders. William advanced with his whole army, and on the 9th of August, forty days after the battle of the Boyne, encamped before the walls of Limerick, Lauzun pronounced the city indefensible. There were others in command who seconded his opinion, and recom. mended a flag of truce at once to treat for terms of surrender. A stormy debate ensued, at the close of which determined resistance was decided on, principally through the urgent advice of Sarsfield, who spoke with all the energy of hope and undaunted resolution. A numerous garrison occupied the castle and city, while he, with the greater part of the cavalry, took post in the adjoining districts, scouring the country for supplies, intercepting the enemy's communications, and watching to strike

*Voltaire's "Siecle de Louis XIV."

a blow if any opportunity presented itself. It came sooner than was anticipated. If William succeeded in the reduction of Limerick, the war was certainly then and there at an end. This time he was determined to bring matters to a speedy and decisive conclusion. A battering train, consisting of six twenty-four, and two eighteen pounders, their tin boats or pontoons, a great quantity of ammunition, much provisions, and abundance of other stores, were ordered up from Dublin; but by a strange and unpardonable oversight, either from contempt of attack, or disbelief of danger, the escort was wholly inadequate to the charge, on the safety of which the operations of their army entirely depended. And now occurred the most brilliant incident of the war, which carried the reputation of Sarsfield far beyond that of any of his associated brethren in arms, and was in itself a feat of partisan generalship, which has not been surpassed either in bold conception or complete success, by any similar enterprise recorded in ancient or modern warfare. The approach of this train, so necessary to the success of the besiegers, was notified to the garrison by Sarsfield, who had many friends among the peasants of Clare, or rapparees,' as they were called, from whom he received the earliest intelligence of the movements of the enemy. He therefore resolved to make a bold effort to

66

intercept the convoy. His scouts gave

him information when it would be in a situation favourable for attack, and undertook to guide him to the spot by a devious and unfrequented route. Full of his perilous object, he left Limerick on the 10th of August, under cover of a dark night, with five hundred chosen horse, and took the road to Killaloe. On the following day, King William received notice from two gentlemen in his interest, that Sarsfield had set out on some secret expedition. Suspecting his object, the king ordered Sir John Lanier, with five hundred dragoons, to meet the advancing train. This officer was dilatory, when he ought to have been as rapid as lightning. It was two in the morning of the 12th before his party were in the saddle; and when they had proceeded but a few miles, their eyes and ears announced to them the terrible disaster which had befallen the important object they were commissioned to

protect. The escort of the convoy and stores consisted of only a squadron (two troops) of Villiers' regiment, the Second Dragoon Guards. They had marched that day from Cashel to Ballymedy, or Whitestown, near the village of Cullen, not more than twelve miles from King William's camp; from their close proximity to the royal army they deemed themselves perfectly se cure; so having picketed their horses, or turned them loose to graze, they posted a few sentries, and laid down to rest, without apprehension of surprise. Sarsfield and his party having forded the Shannon on the preceding night, a little above the bridge of Killaloe, lay close in the mountains all the following day, while his faithful spies sedulously watched, and from hour to hour reported the progress of the unconscious prey. As soon as it was announced to him that the convoy and escort had taken up their resting place for the night, he put his troops in motion; and sweeping round in a circuit of several miles, to avoid the possibility of spreading an alarm, reached the village of Cullen, which he cleared with the utmost rapidity. Advancing, then, at a full gallop, his dragoons rushed down upon the sleeping enemy with terrible shouts. The English commander started up, and ordered his trumpets to sound an alarm; but while the men were endeavouring to catch their horses, the greater part were sabred or made prisoners. The whole convoy was now in Sarsfield's power, but everything depended on not losing a moment of time. In half an hour he might be surrounded and overwhelmed by numbers advancing to the rescue. the greatest celerity he charged the guns with powder to the brim, stuck them in the earth, muzzle downwards, and heaping upon and around them near three hundred barrels of powder, with all the baggage and provision carts, thus formed a mass of combustibles, less costly in material, but more instantaneous in destruction than the funeral pile of Sardanapalus. He then withdrew his party beyond the vortex to a convenient distance, and ignited the train. The whole was blown into the air with an explosion that illuminated the heavens, and produced the effect of an earthquake for many miles round. Sir John Lanier's detachment came up in time to find they were too late, and to witness the wreck they might

With

have prevented. After a futile attempt to intercept the retreat of the Irish over the Shannon, they returned to their camp with two of the guns, which were only partially injured, to confirm the unwelcome tidings which had already heralded themselves by the ominous burst of noise and conflagration. Sarsfield re-entered Limerick on the same day, where the news of his brilliant exploit was received by his countrymen and fellow-soldiers with deafening cheers.

This account is principally condensed from the very graphic description in Fitzgerald's and M'Gregor's "History of Limerick," the substance and details of which are nearly in accord with what is stated by the contemporaneous writers on either side.* In this instance there appears to have been no disposition to conceal or distort the truth. George Story, one of King William's chaplains, who was present with the English forces during these wars, adds, that Sarsfield told an officer whom he took prisoner, that had he failed in this enterprise, he would have held their cause as lost, and have taken shipping for France forthwith. Why he should volunteer this unnecessary admission to a prisoner is difficult to understand. It may be true, but it sounds very improbable.

From this moment the reputation of Sarsfield was firmly established, and soared far beyond that of any of his competitors. He became the popular favourite, the national hero, the idol of the soldiers and peasantry, but an object of increased jealousy to the superior officers. Both feelings were natural under the circumstances. He was the only leader who had succeeded, and more was expected from him if he could obtain the opportunity. His feat of arms, dashing and important in itself, was withal so well-timed that it inspired confidence, which had not before existed. If we are to trust the Duke of Berwick, who again steps in to detract from merit generally allowed, Sarsfield was a very commonplace person, whose fame was more fortuitous than deserved. This seems the more extraordinary when we remember, that he married the widow of his brothersoldier, but her eyes were closed in

death long before the "Memoirs" were written, or, perhaps, the ungracious passage might have been expunged. It stands thus:

"Patrick Sarsfield was a man of prodigious stature, without capacity, extremely good-natured, and brave to excess. The adventure of the surprised convoy inflamed his vanity to a point so high, that he believed himself the greatest general in the world. Henry Luttrel was continually turning his head, and crying him up everywhere, not from any true esteem, but to increase his popularity so as to serve his own views. In fact, the greater part of the Irish people conceived such an exalted opinion of him, that the King (James II.), to please them, created him Earl of Lucan, and at the third promotion advanced him to the rank of lieutenant-general."

In spite of the ungenerous qualification, we have here the portrait of a Murat. It has never been pretended, that the plan for the surprise of the convoy originated with any other head than his own, and nothing but the most determined prejudice can deny, that in this achievement the military skill at least equalled the courage. Throughout a war of nearly three years' duration, in which many generals of note were employed, no one action has obtained such undivided praise, or has won an equal reputation for the suc cessful originator. The result was fortunate in the extreme, but it was deserved. What is commonly called good fortune, or a lucky star, is a valuable ingredient in the composition of a popular general. The "est il heureux ? of Mazarin, was a question based on a sound practical estimate of human nature. One bold success will gain more admirers and adherents than twenty scientific failures. But envy and jealousy are ever prone to attribute to fortune what more frequently belongs to talent. After the victory of Neerwinde, in 1693, gained by the Marshal de Luxembourg over King William, a French refugee in the King's army, to flatter the sovereign, and to enfeeble the glory of his succesful antagonist, praised extravagantly the good fortune of Luxembourg, without alluding to his military talents. "Hold your tongue, sir," replied King

William, with clear judgment and a just feeling; "he has been too long a lucky general to be nothing else but a lucky general."

The officers who envied Sarsfield called him lucky; but why did they not do something of the same kind to prove their own superior ability? Thus, a critic frequently tells you you are wrong, but more frequently fails to show what is right. We shall presently see that Sarsfield and the Duke of Berwick came into collision on some important points, which were of a nature to breed a lasting mistrust between them. When

William ascertained the loss of his train, whatever vexation he might have felt inwardly, he exhibited no outward symptoms. He was usually taciturn, and on this occasion said even less than usual. He might have brought Sir John Lanier to trial, but the sentence of a court-martial, though it should cashier his general, would fail to put him in possession of Limerick.† He, therefore, adopted a more likely course: ordered up some great guns from Waterford, opened a breach on the 17th, and gave the assault on the following day. He had a narrow escape himself from a cannon shot, and his troops were driven back with great slaughter. Sarsfield made a vigorous sortie, and inflicted much loss on the retiring columns. William opened fresh batteries advanced his trenches-breached the walls in other places, and carried the covered way, or counterscarp, on the 26th. A second assault was attempted, with an enormous force, and a second time his utmost efforts were foiled. His loss, in this last attack, amounted to two thousand killed and wounded. The garrison suffered to the extent of four hundred. William had no more time at command ; his presence was peremptorily required in England. There was treason in London; and plans were arranging with the French fleet to intercept his return. In a few days more Queen Mary would have been seized, and James proclaimed in the English metropolis. On the 30th of August he raised the siege, decamped in the

night, and marched to Waterford, where he embarked, without an hour's delay. The Irish came forth from their walls, levelled the investing lines, and stood in triumph on the ground so lately occupied by their beleaguering enemies. Sarsfield strongly recommended a vigorous pursuit, which he offered to conduct in person. But his plan was rendered abortive by Tyrconnell, who issued private orders to Colonel Sheldon (commanding under Sarsfield) to march the greater part of the horse into Connaught. Let just praise be accorded where it is due. The successful defence of Limerick, after a close investment of twenty-two days by overwhelming numbers, was a deed of obstinate courage which more than effaced the misfortune of the Boyne, and gives the lie direct to the calumnies of Voltaire. And this issue was principally accomplished through the persevering energy and unwearied activity of Sarsfield. The French engineers, too, are deserving of every praise, for the skill with which they repaired the old works, and constructed

new ones.

The adherents of King James were now permitted time to breathe; and had they been unanimous, or under the control of one predominating chief, his cause was at this crisis far from being lost. De Ginckell, who succeeded to the command after the departure of William, concentrated the English forces at Clonmel. Marlborough took Cork and Kinsale with little difficulty. The Williamites also held Dublin, Waterford, Londonderry, and Enniskillen. The Irish retained the strong central post of Athlone, Sligo in the north, Galway in the west, and Limerick which commanded the Shannon. The large and comparatively inaccessible counties of Clare, Kerry, and the province of Connaught, were still in their possession. They were elated with recent triumph; William appeared to have his hands too full to visit them again; and altogether their affairs looked in a more prosperous condition than at any period since the commencement of the