Chapter 11: The First Siege Of Limerick.
The three heavy guns thundered against the walls without intermission,night and day, until at length a breach was made. The garrison in vainattempted to repair it, and every hour it grew larger, until there was ayawning gap, twelve yards wide. This William considered sufficient forthe purpose, and made his preparations for the assault. The Englishregiment of grenadiers, six hundred strong, was ordered to take its placein the advanced trenches, and to lead the assault. It was supported onthe right by the Dutch Guards, with some British and Brandenburgregiments in reserve.
On the left, the grenadiers were supported by the Danish regiments, and alarge body of cavalry were held in readiness, to pour in behind theinfantry. The storming parties were under command of Lieutenant GeneralDouglas.
At three o'clock in the afternoon, the signal for the assault was givenby a discharge of three pieces of cannon. As the last gun was fired, thegrenadiers leaped from the trenches and dashed forward towards thebreach. As they approached the wall, they discharged their muskets at theenemy upon the walls, and, before assaulting the breach, they hurled ashower of hand grenades at its defenders.
The preparations for the assault had been observed by the Irish, and theywere in readiness to receive it. The news had spread through the town,and the excitement among the whole population was intense. The guns onthe walls ceased firing, in order that all might be ready to pour intheir shower of balls, when the assault commenced. The fire from thebatteries of the besiegers had also died away, and a silence, whichseemed strange after the constant din of the preceding days, hung overthe camp and city.
No sooner had the grenadiers leaped from the trenches, than the guns onthe walls, and the musketry of the defenders, poured their fire uponthem; while all the batteries of the besiegers opened, at the samemoment, to cover the assault. Through the hail of fire the grenadierskept on without faltering, and, as they neared the breach, the Irishrushed out through the opening to meet them. There was a desperatestruggle, half hidden from the eyes of those on the walls by the cloud ofsmoke and dust, which arose from the combatants; but the grenadiers,fighting with the greatest gallantry, won their way to the counter-scarp,and half the regiment forced its way through the breach and entered thetown. But the Irish troops, clustered behind the wall, then closed inagain, and barred the breach to those following.
The Dutch and English regiments were marched up, to aid the rest of thegrenadiers to cut their way in after their comrades; but these troopswere unable to imitate the valour of the grenadiers. They got as far asthe counter-scarp; but the fire from the walls was so deadly, that theycould not be prevailed upon to advance. The rain of fire mowed them down.Their officers urged them on, and, unwilling to retreat and incapable ofadvancing, they were shot down in scores.
Presently there was a sudden movement among the Irish defenders on thebreach, and a few of the grenadiers who had entered the city burst theirway through them, and rejoined their comrades. No sooner had they enteredthe city, than they found themselves assailed on all sides. The Irishtroops and the citizens attacked them with fury, and even the women,animated by the deadly hate which the deeds of William's soldiers hadexcited, hurled missiles upon them from the windows, and even joined inthe attacks upon them in the streets.
The grenadiers resisted obstinately, but they were gradually overpoweredby numbers, until at last a few survivors, gathering together, burstthrough their assailants, and succeeded in making their retreat. Fornearly three hours this furious conflict had raged within the city.Regiment after regiment had been marched up to the assault, but none hadproved brave enough to fight their way up the counter-scarp to the aid ofthe hard-pressed grenadiers in the town.
When the little remnant of the grenadiers rejoined them, they continued,for a time, to keep up a constant fire upon the defenders on the walls,but at last slowly and sullenly fell back to their camp.
In the meantime, a regiment of Brandenburghers had attacked the wall ofthe battery known as the Black Battery, whose fire was doing greatexecution upon the assailants. They had brought scaling ladders withthem, and with these they succeeded, fighting with great bravery anddetermination, in gaining the walls. The whole regiment poured in; but,just as they did so, the Irish fired the powder magazine that suppliedthe battery, and the whole battalion was destroyed.
William, from his position on a fort known as Cromwell's Fort, watchedthe struggle. Had he acted as Cromwell did, at the siege of Drogheda,when, after his troops had been twice repulsed at the breach, he placedhimself at their head and led them to the assault, the result might nothave been the same; for the regiments, which refused to follow theirofficers up the counter-scarp, might have followed the king; but William,although he had often proved the possession of no ordinary courage, andcoolness in danger, had not that species of courage which prompts a manto throw himself forward to lead a forlorn hope. Moreover, both as ageneral-in-chief and king, his place was not at the head of an assault.
The assailants lost more than two thousand men, and these the flower ofWilliam's army. The surprise of the troops, at their defeat by an enemythey had been taught to despise, was extreme, and so ashamed were they oftheir failure, that the following day they were ready to renew theassault. The king, however, would not risk another such defeat. Thebravest of his force had perished, his stores of ammunition were nearlyexhausted, and the rains had set in with great violence.
On the day following the assault, the king called a council of war, andit was resolved to raise the siege. There was a great scarcity of waggonsand horses, in consequence of the loss sustained by Sarsfield's attack onthe train. The few waggons which remained were not enough to convey thewounded men, many of whom were obliged to walk. The stores had,therefore, to be abandoned for want of transport. Some were thrown intothe river, others blown up and destroyed, and, on Saturday the 30th ofAugust, the army commenced its retreat.
It was accompanied by a great host of fugitives, for with the army wentthe whole of the Protestant inhabitants of the county of Limerick and thesurrounding country, with their wives, children, servants, and suchhousehold goods as they could bring with them. In addition to these werethe Protestant fugitives from the neighbourhood of Athlone, who had comedown with the division of General Douglas, after he had raised the siegeof that city.
The Protestants round Limerick had not doubted the success of thebesiegers, never questioning the ability of an army, commanded by a king,to capture a place like Limerick. The misery of this body of fugitiveswas terrible. They had abandoned their homes to pillage and destruction,and knew not whether they should ever be able to return to them again.They had, on the arrival of William, torn up the letters of protection,which the Irish generals had given to all who applied to them, and,having thrown in their fortunes with him, dared not remain among thecountry people, who had suffered so terribly from the exactions andbrutality of William's army. Not only had they to endure wet, hunger, andfatigue in the retreat, but they were robbed and plundered, by the armywhich should have protected them, as if they had been enemies instead offriends.
William himself left his army, as soon as he broke up the siege, andpushed straight on to Waterford, and the troops, relieved from the onlyauthority they feared, and rendered furious by the ill success which hadattended their operations, broke out into acts of plunder andinsubordination which surpassed anything that they had beforeperpetrated.
The siege of Limerick brought the campaign to a close, and, so far, theIrish had no reason to be disheartened. They had besieged and nearlyannihilated the army of Schomberg at Dundalk. They had fought a sturdybattle on the Boyne, and had proved themselves a match for William's besttroops. They had decisively repulsed the attacks upon Athlone andLimerick. Half the troops William had sent to conquer the country hadfallen, while their own losses had been comparatively small.
The sole fruit, of all the efforts of William, had been the occupation ofthe capital--a great advantage, as it gave him a point at which he
couldpour fresh troops into Ireland, and recommence the war in the spring withnew chances of success. When the British army reached Callan, some of thearrears of pay were distributed among the troops, and the army was thenbroken up, and the troops went into winter quarters.
William had returned at once to England, and sent over some new lordsjustices to Dublin. These were received with delight by the townspeople,who had suffered terribly from the exactions and depredations of theforeign troops quartered there, and were, indeed, almost in a state ofstarvation, for the country people were afraid to bring in provisions forsale, as they were either plundered of the goods as they approached thecity, or robbed of their money as they returned after disposing of them.As the only possible check to these disorders, the justices raised a bodyof militia in the town, to cope with the soldiery, and the result was aseries of frays which kept the city in a state of alarm.
By the time that Limerick beat off the assault upon its breach, WalterDavenant was quite convalescent. Rumours of the ill treatment of theProtestants who accompanied the retreating army circulated in Limerick,and Mrs. Conyers congratulated herself warmly that she and her daughterwere safe under the protection of the Irish troops, instead of being inthe sad column of fugitives.
As soon as the English army had left, Captain Davenant obtained for heran order of protection from General Sarsfield, and she returned for awhile with her daughter to their house, to which the invalids werecarried, Captain Davenant's troop being again quartered around it.
"I hardly know what is best to do," she said to Captain Davenant, a fewdays after her return. "I am, of course, anxious to rejoin my husband,but at the same time, I feel that my staying here is of benefit to him.With the order of protection I have received, I am perfectly safe here,and I have no fear whatever of any trouble, either with the troops orpeasantry; but, on the other hand, if we abandon this place, I fear thatit will be pillaged, and perhaps burned, like the other houses belongingto Protestants which have been deserted by their owners. What do you say,Captain Davenant?"
"I should be sorry to give any advice, Mrs. Conyers. For the troops I cananswer. The protection you have received from General Sarsfield will besufficient to ensure you against any trouble whatever from them, but, asto the peasantry, I cannot say. Every village within reach of William'sarmy, in its advance or retreat, has been destroyed, and the vilestatrocities have been committed upon the people. The greater part of themen have, in despair, taken up arms, and, when they get the chance, willavenge their wrongs upon inoffensive Protestants who have ventured toremain in their dwellings. Savagery has begot savagery, and even such aprotection order as you have received would go for little with thesehalf-maddened wretches. I should say, therefore, that so long as thereare a considerable body of troops at Limerick, so long you may safelyremain here, but no longer."
"At any rate, I will stay for a time," Mrs. Conyers said. "The winter maybring peace; and I am very loath to abandon the house, to which myhusband is greatly attached, if it is possible to save it."
The party now fell back to the mode of life which had been interrupted bythe advance of William's army. Captain Davenant drilled his men, andspent his evenings pleasantly in the house. Walter had so far recoveredthat he was able to stroll through the grounds, or drive with Claire. Thetroopers enjoyed their rest and abundance of rations. Captain Davenant'smind had been set at ease by the receipt of a letter, which Mrs. Davenanthad sent him by one of the men of the village. It told him that she hadseen Mr. Conyers, who had obtained a stay of all proceedings against theproperty, and that she was well, and in as good spirits as she could bein his absence.
A month after they had moved across the river, their quiet life wasinterrupted by a trooper riding up, just as the party was sitting down todinner, with an order from General Sarsfield for the troops to be inreadiness to march, at daybreak, to form part of a force which was aboutto undertake an enterprise against the English stationed at Birr. Therewas silence at the table, after Captain Davenant had read the order.
"Then you must leave us?" Mrs. Conyers said at last.
"I am afraid so, Mrs. Conyers. Yes, sorry as I am that our pleasant timehere must come to an end, there is no questioning the order. I have been,in fact, expecting it for the last day or two."
"Then I shall move," Mrs. Conyers said, decidedly. "It will take us a dayor two to pack up such valuables as I should like to take away and leaveat Limerick, till the return of happier days. When that is accomplished,I shall carry out my intention of making for Galway, and leave the houseto take care of itself."
"In the meantime, madam," Captain Davenant said, "I will leave my son andfour of the men, who are now convalescent, as a protection. I fancy theyare all fit to take the saddle, but I can strain a point a little, andleave them still on the sick list."
"Thank you very much, indeed," Mrs. Conyers said, while a glance ofsatisfaction passed between Walter and Claire. "That will be asatisfaction. Indeed, I shall feel quite safe, so long as your son ishere. I wish now I had moved the things before; but I had hoped that youwould have been allowed to remain in quarters here all the winter. Had itnot been for that, I should never have decided as I did."
The next morning the troop started.
"The place seems strangely quiet," Walter said, as he strolled out intothe garden with Claire, after breakfast. "It seems terrible to thinkthat, in three or four days, it will be deserted altogether, and that youwill have gone."
"It is horrid," the girl said, with tears gathering in her eyes. "I hateKing William and King James both," she went on petulantly. "Why can'tthey fight their quarrel out alone, instead of troubling everyone else? Idon't know which of them I hate the most."
"But there is a compensation," Walter said with a smile.
"I am sure I don't see any compensation," the girl said. "What do youmean, Walter?"
"I mean," Walter said, "that if they had not quarrelled, we might neverhave met."
"There is something in that," Claire said softly. "No; I don't know thatI ought quite to hate them, after all."
By which it will be seen that Walter Davenant and Claire Conyers hadalready arrived at a thorough understanding, as to their feelings towardseach other. After this, as was natural between young persons so situated,their talk wandered away into the future, and the present was alreadyforgotten.
In the house, everyone was at work. Mrs. Conyers' servants had allreturned, when she came back to the house, and these were now busy, withthe assistance of Larry and the four troopers left behind, in taking downand packing pictures, taking up carpets, and getting furniture ready forremoval. In the afternoon, Walter assisted in the work of packing. As hewas dressing for dinner, Larry, as usual, came into his room.
"I suppose, your honour," he said, after putting out Walter's clothes,"you will be setting a watch tonight?"
"Yes, Larry, I was intending to do so. You don't think there is anyspecial occasion for it, do you?"
"I don't know, your honour. We hear tales of the rapparees burning everyProtestant house in the district. As long as the troop was here, avcoorse the boys kept away; but there is a powerful lot of plunder in thehouse, and the news that the troop have gone will go through the countryquick enough. The boys have had enough to turn them into devils, withwhat they have gone through, and small blame to them if they take theirchances when they find them. We know, yer honour, that Mrs. Conyers andMiss Claire are well-nigh angels, and there is small fear that the peoplearound will lift a finger agin them, in spite of having had their ownhomes burnt over their heads; but folks from a distance don't know that,and the news that there is a rich Protestant house, all ready forsacking, will travel quick. I hope your honour will get the ladies tomove out of the place tomorrow, whether the ould pictures and things areall ready or not."
"Do you think it is as serious as that, Larry?"
"Faith and I do, yer honour. You don't know how bitter the folks are!"
"But there cannot be any danger, Larry, as long as we are her
e. Therapparees would never attack a house which has the general's protection,and with an officer and some troopers of the king to guard it."
"It's meself would not answer for them," Larry said, shaking his head."The boys are just disperate, and would care nothing for the protection,unless there were force to back it. They think that, as all the Catholicshave been robbed by the Protestants, it's only fair that they should gettheir turn now; and, if I were your honour, I would lay all my plans outtonight, how to get away and the rest of it, just as if you were assuredthey would come before the morning."
"Why, you have heard nothing certain, Larry?"
"I have not, or I would tell your honour at once; but I know what thepeople think and feel, and I know that the rapparees have been plunderingand destroying every Protestant house around, and they will guess thatthe ladies will be moving, now that the troop is gone. Besides, won'tthey have heard that the news has gone round, for waggons to come to takeaway the things?"
The earnestness with which Larry spoke convinced Walter that the dangerwas serious. Larry was not given to magnify danger, and usually treatedall risks with carelessness and indifference. Walter knew that he wouldgather, from the stablemen and the people who brought in provisions, muchmore as to the state of popular feeling in the country than he was likelyto know, and he accordingly went down to dinner grave and preoccupied.
Mrs. Conyers soon noticed the change in his manner, and, as soon as theservants had retired, asked him if he had received any bad news.
"No," he said, trying to speak lightly. "My boy Larry has been trying toscare me about the rapparees, and, although I do not think that there isany danger to be apprehended from them, I do think that it would be justas well to hurry on your preparations, as much as possible, and for youand Claire to go in to Limerick tomorrow afternoon. We can finish thepacking up of the goods you wish to take, and any we cannot get offtomorrow can be sent in the next day."
Mrs. Conyers looked grave.
"But we have heard of no rapparees in this neighbourhood, Walter," shesaid. "We have heard of sad excesses in some parts of the country, butnothing in this neighbourhood."
"There has been small temptation for them about here," Walter said, "forevery house within miles was stripped by the Williamites. Catholic orProtestant was all the same to them. Besides, they knew well thatSarsfield's horse would soon have put a stop to that sort of thing. Now,I do not wish to alarm you in the slightest, and I do not think thatthere is any real cause for anxiety. Even if they are in theneighbourhood, the rapparees will hardly venture an attack upon a houseoccupied by even a few of our troops. Still, it is always wisest to beprepared, and therefore, I should like for us to arrange exactly what hadbest be done in the event of an attack. Of course, I shall see that allthe doors and the lower windows are securely fastened, and I shall havethe men from the stables into the house, so we shall be nine or ten menin all; enough, I hope, for all circumstances. Still, merely as a matterof discussion, let us suppose the worst. Let us imagine the housesurrounded, the doors burst in, and the resistance on the point of beingoverpowered. What would be our best plan for making our escape?
"Do not be frightened, Claire," he went on, seeing how pale the girl hadbecome. "Every general, when he is going to fight a battle, however surehe may be of success, decides upon the route by which his army shallretreat, in case of a defeat, and I am only taking the same precaution."
"If there is to be a retreat made at all," Mrs. Conyers said, "I preferthat it should be made now. Do you really think that there is any realdanger of attack?"
"I think that there is danger of attack, Mrs. Conyers; but I have noreason for supposing that there is any particular danger this night."
"Then Claire and I will at once start for the town, under the escort oftwo of your men. It would be folly, indeed, to run the risk of anotherattack here. If the house is to be burned, it must be burned. For, ifthey were beaten off once, they would come again when the house wasundefended. As for the things, should all be quiet tonight, they can besent in tomorrow as arranged. The things that are to go are all gottogether."
"I do think that the best way," Walter said. "Of course, I shall ride inwith you, and hand you over to the friends you are going to, in the town,and shall then come back here again with a light heart. But I own that Iam nervous at the thought of you and Claire being here, should therapparees attack the house."
"But mind, Walter, there is to be no fighting. If they come tonight, Ihad rather that they took everything, than that you should risk your lifein its defence. The silver and valuables we took across before are allsafe in Limerick. As for the other things, they can go. Now, mind, weshall not leave unless we have your promise that, if a band of these mencome tonight to sack the place, you and your men will offer noresistance."
"If they come in numbers which render successful resistance out of thequestion, I promise you that we will not draw a trigger, Mrs. Conyers."
"In that case I am satisfied, Walter. Against you and your men thesepeasants have no quarrel."
Walter at once called Larry.
"Larry, get my horse saddled, and tell Browning to saddle his. Place twopillions behind the saddles. Mrs. Conyers and her daughter are going toride into Limerick at once."
"The Lord be praised!" Larry said piously. "That's the best news I haveheard this many a day."
"And, Larry," Mrs. Conyers said, "tell the three boys in the stable tosaddle the three best horses, and ride with us. If we lose everythingelse, we may as well retain them, for it would not be easy to buy othersnow."
In ten minutes, all was ready for a start. Walter and the trooper tooktheir places in the saddles, chairs were brought out, and Mrs. Conyersand Claire mounted behind them. Walter had asked Mrs. Conyers to take herseat on the pillion on his horse, but she did not answer, and when Walterturned to see that she was comfortably placed behind him, he found thatit was Claire who was seated there.
"Mamma told me to," the girl said. "I suppose she thought this was,perhaps, the last ride we should take together."
"For the present, Claire--you should say, for the present. I hope it willnot be long before we are together again.
"And for good," he added, in a low voice.
Mrs. Conyers made no comment, when they dismounted and entered the houseof a friend at Limerick, upon Claire's swollen eyes and flushed cheeks,but said "goodbye" lightly to Walter, thanked him for his escort, andsaid that she hoped to see him, with her household goods, on thefollowing afternoon.
On leaving them, Walter went straight to the house where an officer ofhis acquaintance was quartered.
"Hullo, Davenant! I didn't expect to see you here at this time of theevening. I heard you were still laid up with your wound."
"That is an old affair now," Walter said. "I am not quite strong again,but there is little the matter now. I have come in to ask you if you willlet me have five-and-twenty of your men. I have strong reason to believethat it is likely one of the bands of rapparees will make an attack onMrs. Conyers' house tonight. The tenants have been asked to send in theirwaggons, tomorrow, to remove some of the furniture in here, and I thinkit probable they will try to take what they fancy, before it starts. Ihave brought Mrs. Conyers and her daughter into the town, but, as I haveonly four men, I cannot defend the house if it is attacked in any force.I wish you would let me have five-and-twenty men, and a sergeant, justfor tonight. I will march them in with the baggage in the afternoon."
"Certainly I will," Captain Donovan said. "I need not disturb thecolonel, at this time of the evening, but will take it on myself. Thereare just that number quartered in the storehouse, close to the gate. Iwill go down with you, at once, and turn them out and give them orders.It will be a good thing for the rapparees to have a lesson. They bringdisgrace upon our cause by their doings."
In a few minutes the men, who had not retired to bed, were turned out.
"You have got a four-mile march before you, boys," Walter said, when theywere drawn up; "but th
ere will be a pint of good wine, and some supperfor you, when you get there. So step out as briskly as you can."
After a cordial goodnight to Captain Donovan, Walter placed himself atthe head of the infantry, and, in little over an hour, arrived at thehouse. He knocked loudly at the door. A minute later, Larry put his headout of the window above.
"Who is there? What do you want knocking at a peaceful house at this timeof night? You had best go away, boys, for the house is chock full ofsoldiers. We are only waiting for orders to blow you to smithereens."
Walter burst into a laugh.
"Very well done, Larry. It is I, with some soldiers. So you needn't giveorders to the men to fire."
Larry gave a cry of satisfaction, and ran down to open the door.
"It's glad I am to see you, Master Walter, entirely. I have beenlistening ever since you went, and, when I heard the tramp of feet, Imade sure it was the boys."
"But I gave orders that there was to be no resistance, Larry."
"And I wasn't going to resist, your honour; but I thought I might justfrighten them away."
"Now, Larry, get up a pint of wine for each of these good fellows, andwhat victuals you can find in the house. We need have no fear of anattack tonight."
When the soldiers had finished their supper, they lay down in the hall.Walter placed a sentry at a window, at each side of the house, and hethen lay down on a sofa, for the ride to Limerick and back had greatlyfatigued him, much to his surprise, for he had no idea how far hisstrength had been pulled down.
He was aroused, just as day was breaking, by a loud knocking at the door,and at the same moment a shot was fired from a window above. The soldiershad started to their feet, and seized their arms as he ran out and badethem follow him upstairs. He threw up a window.
"Who are you? And what do you want?"
"Never mind who we are," a voice replied. "We want the door opened, andyou had best do it quick."
"Look here, my man," Walter said in a loud, steady voice, "there arethirty soldiers in this house, and, if I give the word, you will get sucha volley among you, that half of you will never go home to tell about it,so I warn you to depart quietly."
"It's a lie," the man said. "If you are the officer, you have got onlyfour men, and you know it. We want to do you no harm, and we don't wantto harm the ladies; but what's in the house is ours--that's the law ofWilliam's troops, and we mean to act up to it."
A chorus of approbation rose from a throng of peasants gathered round thedoor. A few of them carried muskets, but the greater part were armed withrude pikes.
"Show yourselves at the windows, boys," Walter said to his men. "Levelyour muskets, but don't fire until I give the word."
It was light enough for those without to make out the threateningfigures, which showed themselves at every window, and, with a cry ofalarm, they ran back among the shrubs for shelter.
"Now you see," Walter said, "that I have spoken the truth. I have thirtysoldiers here, and you know as well as I do what will come of it, if youattempt to break into this house.
"For shame, men! Your deeds bring disgrace on the king's cause, and onour religion. It is not because the scum who march with the Dutchmanbehave like brutal savages, that we should do the same. There's plenty ofwork for you, in fighting against the enemies of your country, instead offrightening women and pillaging houses. Return to your homes, or, betterstill, go and join the king's army, and fight like men for your homes andyour religion."
He listened, but there was no answer. The rapparees knew they had nochance of breaking into the house, so defended, and, when Walter ceased,each man slunk away in the darkness.
The next morning, a number of waggons arrived, and Walter, with the aidof the soldiers, had the satisfaction of loading them with everything ofany value in the house, and of escorting them without interruption toLimerick. Mrs. Conyers was filled with gratitude, when she heard theevents of the night, and how narrowly she and her daughter had escapedanother attack. One of the principal tenants had come in with his waggon,and he agreed to move into the house, with his wife and family, until sheshould return. Seeing that now everything worth taking had been removed,he thought there was little chance of any attempt to destroy the house.