Chapter 13: A Dangerous Mission.
"Walter," Captain Davenant said to his son one day, when he returned froma council in which he had taken part, at the quarters of GeneralSarsfield, "I have a mission for you in Dublin. It is necessary, in thefirst place, to communicate with some of our friends there, and in thesecond to ascertain, as far as we can, the plans of the enemy during thenext campaign. There are few of us here who would not be readilyrecognized in Dublin; therefore, when there seemed a difficulty inselecting someone to undertake the duty, I said that I thought you wouldbe likely to succeed better than most.
"You have not been any time in Dublin, and I question whether a singleperson there would be likely to recognize you. You will, of course, be indisguise, and your youth will be in your favour. I don't say there is nodanger in such an undertaking, but I do not think the risk is greaterthan that which you have frequently run. I was sure you would readilyundertake the mission, and I thought I could answer for your intelligenceas well as your discretion."
"I will undertake it, certainly, father, if you think me capable of it,"Walter said. "It is dull enough here, now that the wet weather hasthoroughly set in, and I shall really like the adventure. When am I toset out?"
"Tomorrow. Your instructions, and the letters you are to carry, will bedrawn up tonight, and you can set off after breakfast. I shall ride withyou, with a part of the troop, until you are past the point where you arelikely to fall in with any body of the enemy's cavalry. After that youwill, of course, shift for yourself. We think you had best travel onfoot, dressed as a peasant. In that way you will attract no attention,and pass through towns occupied by the enemy without questioning."
"I think, father, I will take Larry with me, if you have no objection. Hewould be the real thing, and could do most of the talking. Besides,sometimes it is very useful to have someone to send with a message, or toput on guard when one went in anywhere."
"Take him, by all means, Walter, and, indeed, I agree with you that youmay find him very useful."
Accordingly, the following morning Walter and Larry, dressed as youngpeasants, mounted, and with the troop started from the camp. No signs ofany parties of the enemy were seen during their ride, and afterproceeding some five-and-twenty miles, they dismounted, and with a heartyfarewell from Captain Davenant, and a cheer from the men, they started onfoot.
The letters of which Walter was the bearer had been written on very smallpieces of paper, and had been sewn up inside the collar of his coat. Hisinstructions, as to the persons on whom he was to call, had been learnedby heart and the paper destroyed. Larry was in high glee at taking partin the adventure, and laughed and jested as they made their way along.
They avoided the main roads running to Waterford and Dublin, as theywould probably have fallen in with parties of troops journeying west, andmight have been shot out of pure wantonness, besides being exposed to therisk of being asked awkward questions. They slept at peasants' houses,where they were everywhere hospitably received, as soon as their hostsassured themselves that they were Catholics. Larry was the principalspokesman, for although Walter, like all the Catholic gentry, spoke thenative language, he was not so fluent as his follower, to whom it camenaturally, as, although the peasantry in the neighbourhood of Dublin wereall able to speak English, they always conversed in Irish amongthemselves. Larry gave out that he and his companion had been serving inthe army, and had obtained leave to pay a visit to their native village,near Dublin, for the winter.
"I doubt whether you will find much of it standing," one of their hostssaid, "for I hear that county Wicklow, and all round Dublin, has beenwasted by them foreign devils in Dublin. The curse of Cromwell be uponthem! But we'll be aven wid them yet. They say next spring a big Frencharmy is coming, and they will set the Germans running so that they won'tstop till the last man gets on board ship, and ould Ireland is free fromthem, the murthering haythens. But you must be careful, lads, and not letout to a sowl that ye have been wid the boys in the west, or it's shortwork they would make of you."
In every case they were asked questions about sons or relations with thearmy, and were often able to give news as to where the regiments to whichthey belonged were stationed, and of the part they had taken during thelast year's fighting. News travelled slowly, and was circulatedprincipally by means of travelling peddlers, who hawked their wares fromvillage to village, and reported what was going on in the outside world.Thus, although the peasants were aware of the general details of thefighting which had taken place, they knew nothing of the part which thevarious regiments had borne in it. Reading and writing were rareaccomplishments, and the post was altogether interrupted, so that manyremained in suspense, from the beginning to the end of the war, as to thefate of those who had left them to take part in it.
The friends did not make long journeys, for Walter was unaccustomed towalk barefooted, and his feet at first were very sore and tender; but bythe time they reached Dublin they had hardened, and he was able to stridealong by the side of Larry, who, until he started with him for the war,had never had on a pair of shoes in his life.
As soon as they reached Dublin, they made their way to the quartersinhabited by the working classes. There Walter purchased shoes, and madesuch alteration in their attire as to do away with their country aspect,and give them the appearance of two young fellows belonging to the town.Having hired a room, and made these changes, they sallied out.
The streets were thronged with foreign troops, who behaved as if in aconquered country, swaggering along the streets, pushing the citizens outinto the middle of the road, abusing the tradesmen who refused to partwith their goods at nominal prices, making insolent remarks to any womanwho hurried past them, and behaving with a freedom and license whichshowed how completely all bonds of discipline were relaxed.
"They look mighty bould," Larry whispered, "but it's mighty little of itthey show when they see the Irish horse advancing agin them. No one wouldthink, to see them now, as they were the men we saw spurring away for thebare life on Boyne Water."
"No, indeed, Larry," agreed Walter, who was furious at what he saw. "Iwish we had a few squadrons of Sarsfield's horse here. We would clear thestreet of these vermin in no time. But you must be careful, Larry.Whatever happens, we must not get into any brawl. We have a mission toperform, and must not think of ourselves."
"I will remember it, yer honour."
It was well that Larry had been warned, for the next moment a Germansoldier passing brushed against him, and then, with a savage oath, turnedand struck him to the ground. Larry sprung up with his eyes blazing withpassion, but he caught Walter's warning "Larry," and, hanging his head,moved away without a word.
"That's right, Larry," Walter said approvingly. "I was afraid for amoment that you were going to spring at that fellow. If you had you wouldhave been in a lockup in five minutes, and as you could have given nogood account of yourself, there you might have remained for weeks."
"If ever I meet that fellow outside Dublin," Larry muttered savagely, "Iwill pay him for the blow he gave me."
Seeing the risk of another encounter of the same kind, Walter led the waydown to the bank of the river, and there they remained, chatting, untilit became dusk.
"Now, Larry, I must begin my work. My first visit is to be to a merchant,who lives in a street close to where the ships discharge. While I am in,do you sit down on a doorstep near, and keep a sharp lookout to seewhether the house is watched. It is not likely, but all the better classof Catholics who remain in the town are regarded with suspicion."
Walter had no trouble in finding the house he was in search of, and,knocking at the door, he told the servant who opened it that he wanted tosee the master.
"You must come in business hours," the man said. "He can't see you now."
"I have a letter to him, from his friend Mr. Fitzgerald of Waterford. Ifyou tell him that, I think he will see me now."
"That's all right," the man said. "He tould me if anyone came with aletter from that gent
leman, I was to show him up."
So saying, he led him upstairs.
"Here's a young man, your honour, with the letter you tould me about,from Mr. Fitzgerald."
"Show him in," a voice said; and Walter entered a sitting room. Thegentleman who was with him said nothing, until the door was closed behindhim. Then he asked:
"Has the ship come in?"
To which Walter replied:
"She is sailing slowly, but she will come."
"That's right," the merchant said, rising. "Where do you come from?"
"I am Walter Davenant, a cornet in my father's troop of horse, and I havecome direct from Limerick. I have a letter for you, in my collar."
He pulled off his coat, the merchant handed him a knife, he ripped openthe collar, and, taking out the papers concealed there, picked out thatintended for Mr. O'Brian, which was not directed, but had only a slightmark upon it to distinguish it from the others. The merchant read it insilence.
"I am disappointed, Mr. Davenant," he said, as he finished it. "I hadhoped that a dash would be made at Dublin this winter; but the generalsays that it has been decided to fight one more campaign on thedefensive, and that in the autumn, when the French arrive, there will bea general advance. Now, I am ready to answer any question you areinstructed to ask."
"In the first place, sir, how many men do you think would be ready tojoin in any rising in Dublin?"
"It would all depend upon whether an Irish army was advancing in thisdirection. In that case, some seven or eight thousand men would rise. Butunless, there were a hope of early assistance, I do not think that abovea thousand could be relied on. I have about that number on my list. They,as you see, could do nothing unassisted. There are three or four thousandtroops here, and the Protestant mob who would join them would numberseven or eight thousand, at the very least. Therefore, any attempt torise in the face of such odds, unless after a crushing defeat ofWilliam's troops, would be out of the question. But, as I said, if anarmy were marching on Dublin, the Protestants would be thinking more oftaking to their ships than fighting, and all the Catholics in the citywould then join the movement."
"I think the general hoped that you could have mustered a stronger force,sir."
"So I could, a year ago," Mr. O'Brian said; "but the constant persecutionand ill treatment of the Catholics have caused large numbers of them toleave the town. Many of the younger and more determined men have madetheir way west and joined the army. I fear that the numbers I have givenare quite as many as can be relied upon."
"The general was in hopes," Walter said, "that a diversion might havebeen caused in the spring, by a rising in Dublin, which would, even ifunsuccessful, compel the Dutch general to keep a large force here."
"It might have been done, six or eight months ago," Mr. O'Brian said;"but the spirit of the people here has been very much broken, as well astheir numbers diminished. But you can rely upon it, that if anything likea general rising can be got up, we will do our share here. With but athousand men I can rely on, I feel that any open insurrection would behopeless; but we could fire the city at a score of points, night afternight, and so alarm the citizens that they would insist on a considerableforce being kept here for their protection, and this would aid ourfriends outside. I know nothing as to what is being done there, I haveonly charge of the matter inside the city."
"I am well aware of that, sir, and have to call upon those who have thethreads of the movement, throughout the country, in their hands. I onlyarrived today, and came to you first, in order that I might know howmatters stand here before I see the others. I shall, of course, callagain upon you before I leave."
After leaving Mr. O'Brian, Walter visited the houses of several others towhom he bore letters. The accounts of the feeling throughout the countrywere more encouraging than those which he had received from Mr. O'Brian.The hatred of the invaders was greater than ever, and the peasantry inall parts were in a state of sullen desperation. Indeed, the enemy couldnowhere move, in small parties, without the certainty of being attacked.The pressing need was arms. A great part of the peasants who owned gunshad already joined the army, and the rest possessed no weapons beyondroughly-made pikes, and scythes fixed on long handles. These wereformidable weapons in a sudden attack on any small party, but they wouldnot enable the peasants to cope, with any chance of success, againstconsiderable bodies of troops, especially if provided with artillery.
The persons whom Walter saw were in communication with the disaffected inall parts of the country, and agreed in the opinion that a general risingshould be delayed, until some striking success was obtained by the Irisharmy, when the whole country would rise and fall upon the enemy wherevermet with. The plans for a rising having been discussed and arranged,after several interviews, at some of which most of the leaders of themovement were present, Walter prepared to start again for the camp, withthe news that the first Irish victory would be followed by a risingthroughout the country, aided by great conflagrations, if not by aserious movement in Dublin.
The negotiations had occupied over a fortnight. During the first tendays, Larry, who always kept watch outside the house Walter was visiting,reported that nothing whatever had occurred that was in the slightestdegree suspicious. Then he told Walter, on his retiring to theirlodgings, that he fancied their footsteps were followed.
"Do you think so, Larry?"
"I do, yer honour," Larry replied earnestly. "Three times, when you werein the house, the same man came along the street, and each time I saw himlook up at the windows, and somehow I felt that he was following us onour way back. I looked round several times, and each time I fancied I sawa fellow slip into a doorway."
"That is serious, Larry. You don't think anyone in this house can have asuspicion of us?"
"Not they, yer honour. They all think it's just as you say; that thevillage was burned, and we have come to look for work in the city.Besides, if it was anyone here, he wouldn't have to take the trouble totrack us back."
"That's true enough, Larry. No; if there is a suspicion, it must be fromsome spy in the house of one of the gentlemen I have visited. We knowthat the leading Catholics are all suspected, and some of the servantsmay have been bribed to report everything which takes place in the house.We must be very careful; and let us arrange this, Larry, that if there istrouble and we get separated, we will neither of us come back to ourlodging, but will meet at that burned-out village three miles along thewestern road. If anything happens to me, go to the first house I went to,and see Mr. O'Brian, and tell him that I have been taken. If there isanything to be done he will do it. If not, make your way straight back toLimerick. I have told you exactly what has been arranged with people Ihave seen, and you can tell my father, who will report to the general.But whatever you do, don't stop here with any idea of getting me out oftheir hands. The most important thing is that they should know, atLimerick, exactly what has been arranged. If you remain here, you wouldalmost certainly be caught also, for, as the man who has followed us willbe aware that we are together, a search will at once be made for you. Somind, my orders are, that if you see I am in trouble you are at once toset out for Limerick. If you think that I may manage to get away, you arealso to leave at once, but are to wait for me, for twelve hours, at thevillage three miles out. If I do not come by the end of that time, itwill be that I have been taken, and you are to go straight on."
It was on the evening when all the arrangements were finally settled,that a loud knocking was heard at the door of the house where eight ofthe principal persons in the affair were assembled. One of them lookedout of the window, and announced that the street was full of soldiers.All leaped to their feet, and drew their swords.
"It is of no use to resist, gentlemen," Walter said. "Do you put bottlesand glasses on the table, and sit down quietly. I will try to escape. Ifthey find you alone, they can prove nothing against you, and if I getsafe off, you also are safe. Is there any way out on to the roof? Nodoubt the house is watched behind."
"There is
a trapdoor," the gentleman, in whose house they were, said, andled the way upstairs at full speed. As he was unbolting the trap, Walterran into a bedroom and seized an armful of blankets, then ran up theladder to the trapdoor, and stepped out on to the roof. The door wasclosed behind him, and he heard the bolts drawn, and then his host randownstairs and told the frightened servants to open the doors, which hadso far resisted the attack from without. Headed by an officer, thesoldiers rushed in.
"What means this violence?" the gentleman asked. "Why is my house brokeninto in this way?"
"I arrest you, and all who are in this house," the officer said, "on thecharge of treason."
"Treason!" the gentleman said, coolly. "You will find no treason here. Ihave a few friends upstairs, who are cracking a bottle of port; but thatis not, so far as I am aware, against the law."
The officer ran upstairs to the room where the others were standing, asif surprised at the tumult, round the table, on which were bottles andhalf-filled glasses.
"Take the names of all these persons," the officer said to the sergeantwho followed him, "and then convey them in custody to the castle."
"There is no trouble about their names," the host said. "All are wellknown and peaceful citizens, as can be testified by any magistrate."
"Where is the man who was with you?" the officer said, looking round.
"There is, so far as I am aware, no one in the house, sir, beyond thesegentlemen and my domestics."
"It is a lie!" the officer exclaimed, furiously. "A man was seen to enterthis house, an hour and a half ago, and no one has left since."
"A young man! Oh, I suppose you mean the young fellow who brought me amessage from my cousin, at Waterford, and who called to ask if I had yetfound him any employment. Oh yes, he has been here, but left some timeago, unless he is chatting with the maids in the kitchen."
The officer directed a rigorous search to be made of the house. Thesoldiers soon reported that every nook and corner had been examined, butthat no one was to be found. At this moment, a shot was fired in thestreet, and a sergeant ran in.
"Captain Peters bid me say, sir, that they have just caught sight of aman on the roof of a house, some distance along the street."
"Take the prisoners to the castle, under a strong guard, sergeant. Youwill be answerable for their safety," the officer exclaimed, as he randownstairs.
Directly the trap closed behind him, Walter--sure that some minutes wouldpass before the method of his escape was known--tore the blankets he hadbrought with him into wide strips, tied the ends together, and twistedthem up into the form of a rope; then, coiling this over his arm, he madehis way along the roofs. The street below was now a mass of people. Thereport that a Popish plot had been discovered, and that a number ofimportant arrests had been made, spread quickly, as the soldiers wereseen gathered round the house. The news was sufficient to stir up partyfeelings, and the mob which collected soon set up the shout which had, oflate, been so often raised in the streets of Dublin--"Down with thePapists!"
Soon the crashing of glass was heard, as stones were hurled at thedwellings of known Catholics. Walter, anxious for the safety of Larry,who was, he knew, somewhere without, tried to look down into the streetto see what was going on, believing that in the darkness he could not beseen. The flash of a musket, and the whistle of a ball close to him,showed him that his figure had been seen against the skyline.
Drawing back, he paused a moment in thought. The trapdoor would bediscovered at once, and a search on the roof commenced, and the soldierswould be placed behind the houses. There was no time to be lost incontinuing his search for a house with a building projecting behind, ontowhich he could lower himself with his rope, which was not nearly longenough to reach the ground.
Looking over at the back, between two of the sharp ridges of the roofs,he hung his rope so that it would fall across a window, fastened the endround a stack of chimneys, and then, taking hold of it, swung himselfover. He had been very careful in tying the knots, and had tested them bypulling at them with all his strength; but he did not feel at all certainthat they might not draw with his weight, in which case he must have beendashed to pieces on the ground far below him; but there was no time tohesitate, and, as fast as he could, he began to slide down the rope, thefrequent knots affording good hold for his hands.
At last he reached the window. It was made of the small diamond-shapedpanes at that time in general use. Holding the rope with one hand and hislegs, he dashed the other hand through a pane, just where he judged thefastening inside would be. Three panes were beaten in before he felt thelatch. This was easily turned. The frame opened outward, and he had somedifficulty in pulling it past him; then, grasping the woodwork, he drewhimself in, and with a great effort succeeded in gaining a sufficientholding to enable him to leave go of the rope, and make good his footinginside.
He had little fear of the inmates of the house taking notice of the fallof glass; for, had they noticed the sound above the din in the street,they would have supposed that the breakage was caused by one of theflying stones. He ran lightly downstairs, and opened a door at the backof the house, and found himself in the yard. The wall was not very high,and a spring enabled him to get his fingers on the top. He was soonsitting there, and then dropped into the road behind.
The sound of his fall caught the ears of the soldiers, who were stationedat the back of the house from whence he had started, some fifty yardsaway. There was a sharp challenge, and then, as no answer was given, fouror five shots were fired, and there was a rush of feet along the road.
As it was only in the principal thoroughfares that a few lights wereexhibited, the road would have been in complete darkness had not theclouds, just at that moment, blown away from the face of the moon, whichwas half full.
The shots, however, had been fired hastily, and Walter dashed off at fullspeed, unhurt. He heard shouts from the roofs of the houses, and one ortwo shots were fired, but the chance of his being hit was but small. Thesound, however, told the soldiers and crowd in the front street that thefugitive was escaping at the rear, and there was a general rush down thestreet to the next turning. Walter was a hundred yards ahead, before themob reached the turning, and was rapidly distancing the soldiers who werepursuing him. Unfortunately, however, there were many people hurryingfrom all sides, attracted by the shouting and firing. Several of these,in response to the shouts of the soldiers, tried to stop him as he dashedpast, and failing to do so, at once joined in the pursuit.
Walter saw that he must be captured, if he kept straight on, for a groupof men approaching, warned by the shouts of his pursuers, prepared toseize him. He therefore turned sharp down a narrow lane to his left.Another fifty yards he was through this, and found himself on the road,running by the side of the Liffey. Without a moment's hesitation hesprang across it, and plunged into the river.
Even in the moment of his spring, he perceived that the tide was runningup. Had it been ebbing, he would have made down and tried to gain theshore, under shelter of the shipping moored below. But it was useless tothink of swimming against the tide. His pursuers were but a few yardsbehind him, and the second time he rose to the surface for air, two orthree shots were fired. He dived again, and when he next came up, took adeliberate look round in order to judge of his chances.
He was now about a third of the way across. The shore he had left wasalready lined with people, and several were gathering on the oppositebank. Two or three shots struck the water close to him, and he knew thathe was visible to his pursuers. Taking a long breath, he again went underwater. He was a first-rate swimmer and diver, having bathed regularly,summer and winter, in the bay below the castle.
He had, this time, turned his face towards the shore he had quitted. Thetide, he knew, was sweeping him up. He kept under water as long as hepossibly could, swimming his hardest. When he could keep under no longer,he turned on his back, and permitted himself to rise slowly to thesurface.
The moment his mouth and nostrils were above water, he
got rid of thepent-up air, took another breath, and sank again. He swam on until hefelt, by the ground rising rapidly in front of him, that he was close tothe edge. He then cautiously came to the surface, and looked round.
He was close under the bank from which he had started, but two or threehundred yards higher up. The bank rose straight up, some twelve feetabove him, and he could hear persons talking close to its edge.
"There he is."
"No, he isn't."
"Pretty nearly over the other side."
"I don't see him."
"They will catch him as he gets out."
"I believe he has sunk."
"He never could keep under all this time."
"One of the bullets must have hit him."
Then a voice in the crowd shouted, "There's his head, just in the middleof the river," and a stone splashed in the stream. It was followed by avolley of other stones, and several musket shots in the same direction.
Walter, having now got his breath, sank his head quietly below the waterand swam on again, keeping close under the bank. Whenever he came up forair, he listened for a moment. Shots were still being fired below him,and he knew that the attention of all upon the shores was still directedtowards the centre of the stream, and that there was but small chance ofanyone leaning over to gaze down into the water close to their feet.
His hopes rose, as every minute placed him further from his pursuers. Hecould no longer hear voices above him when he rose, but he swam on, forupwards of a mile, and struggled up the bank well beyond the walls of thetown. He lay down a few minutes to rest himself, walked half a mile alongthe bank, and then, entering the river again, swam across, for the roadhe was to follow was on the south side of it.
He made his way across the country until he saw a small shed. He enteredthis, and finding some hay in the loft, stripped off his wet clothes, andcrept deep into the hay to warm himself, for the water was cold, and hewas shivering from head to foot.
As soon as it was light, he again put on his clothes and started at arun, which he maintained until he was in a thorough glow, in spite of hiswet clothing. He did not approach the village, at which he had arrangedto meet Larry, until the sun was high, and his clothes had dried so farthat they would not attract the attention of anyone who might be passing.Then he went into the deserted village and took up his place in one ofthe ruined cottages, from which he could obtain a view of the road fromDublin.
Half an hour later, he saw Larry coming along it. Although there was noone else in sight, someone might be going the other way, and Waltertherefore remained in his hiding place till Larry was abreast of him,when he showed his head in the doorway, and called him by name.
Larry gave a cry of joy and, rushing in, threw his arms round him andburst into tears.
"It's a terrible fright you have given me!" he exclaimed, when he couldfind words. "I have been breaking my heart all night. Sure I thought youwere at the bottom of the river."
"Not this time, Larry, though it was a pretty close thing. Did you see itall?"
"Sure and I did," Larry said. "I was sitting on a doorstep, watching thehouse, when I saw the sodgers coming along. They turned up from a sidestreet, and were so close that I saw I could not get across and get thedoor opened in time to give you the alarm. Then they began to knock atthe door, and for a bit I felt so wake that I could not move. Then thecrowd began to gather, and then I said to myself, The master will try toshlip out at the back of the house. So I went round, but I found thethieves of the world waiting for ye there. But I was sure ye weren't theone to let them take ye widout a struggle for it. So I moved a bit away,and jist waited.
"The time seemed long, when on a suddint I heard the sodgers sing out,and then fire, and set out to run. I never doubted it was you, and so offI went behindt them, as hard as I could tare. I wasn't long in coming upto them, and at first I thought ye would get clean away. Then my heartfell, when I saw those villains attempt to seize ye, but, when I thoughtit was all over, ye turned sharp off and made for the river. I was withthe first of them to get there, and I ran, accidental, against the firstsodger who got his musket to his shoulder, and there was no saying wherethe ball went to. He cursed me for a clumsy baste, and would have knockedme down, but he was in too great a hurry to load again.
"I saw the bullets strike the water, close to you, when you came upagain. I saw you look round, and guessed ye was thinking what was thebest thing to do. Then we saw no more of ye. I didn't think you had beenhit, for I saw you go down regular, as if you were diving in the sea forpleasure; and not sharp, as you would have done if a bullet had hit you.I guessed as you were meaning to swim up the stream, and I did the onlything I could to stop them from following up, by shouting that I saw ye,and throwing a big stone into the water close to where I had seen yourhead before, knowing that, by that time, ye must be nigh a hundred yardsup.
"The fools didn't stop to think, but they took to throwing stones, andfiring as hard as they could, and by the time they had done I knew, if yewere alive, ye must be nigh a quarter of a mile up the river. Some ofthem did run up, and I kept with them, but sorrah a glimpse of ye did weget. At last, everyone made sure that you were kilt entirely, and wenttheir ways.
"I went off to our lodgings, but took good care not to go in. And it waswell I didn't, for, half an hour later, a troop of sodgers came up, andsome of them went in.
"They were led by that black villain who used to come wid messages fromMr. O'Brian, and I have no doubt it was he who set the sodgers upon you.Anyhow, they didn't find much there, but four of them waited till morninginside, the others all going away, so that, if you had got out of theriver, they might catch ye in a trap.
"I waited till they had left this morning, thinking, I suppose, that itwas no use to stay longer, and then started to see if your honour werehere.
"Sometimes I thought I should find you, then again, I tould myself thatif you had been alive I must have seen you come up agin; for, knowing thestrength of the stream, and how fast you could swim, I could tell prettynigh about where you would come up, if you were keeping straight up theriver. How did you manage it at all, Master Walter?"
"I turned, and swam back again to the bank, Larry. I knew everyone wouldbe watching the middle of the river, and would not be looking at thewater in front of them. Of course, the stream took me up a long way. Ionly came up once, on my back, took a breath, and went down again, andthe second time I was right under the bank and well out of sight, thoughI could hear them talking above me. It was just when I looked round,then, that I saw them throwing stones and firing into the middle of theriver, two hundred yards lower down, and after that I had only to keep onswimming under water, close to the bank."
"And that is how ye managed it! It was a grand thought, entirely, to swimback to us. I never thought of that. I was most afraid you would go forthe opposite shore, and there were plenty had gathered there, ready toseize you. I didn't think I could have missed you, if you'd kept on inthe middle, and I have been puzzled altogether as to what could havebecome of you, if ye were really alive.
"I have got some bread in my bundle here, and a bottle of spirits, andyou had better have a bite and a sup before we go on, for it's prettynigh as white as a ghost ye are."
The meal seemed to put new life and strength into Walter, and, after itsconclusion, he was ready to step out again with fresh energy. Theythought it better at once to leave the road, and tramp across thecountry. By so doing they avoided all parties of the English troops, andreached the Irish army without adventure. Walter at once reported himselfto General Sarsfield, and related all that had taken place in Dublin.
"You have done excellently, Mr. Davenant, and your escape from capturewas an extraordinary one. Unfortunately, the betrayal of what was doing,and the arrest of our friends, is likely to upset all the plans you hadarranged."
"I hope not, sir," Walter said. "I know that they were all careful tohave no written documents, for it was always possible that the houses ofthe Catholics might be s
earched."
"That may be so," the general said; "but I fear that this traitor willhave managed to overhear some of the conversation; and the fact of theirmeeting, and of your escape, will in itself tell against themsufficiently to ensure their being kept in prison, at any rate for aconsiderable time; and, even if released, they would be suspectedpersons, and would be unable to make the slightest move."
The general's previsions were justified. The whole of those arrested wereretained in prison for some months, and no such general rising as hadbeen planned was ever carried into effect.
During the winter, stores and ordnance arrived from France for the supplyof the Irish army, and from England for the use of the British, and agreat number of officers from the Continent also joined both armies.
The discontent among the Irish at the apathy of France was extreme. Theyhad embarked in the war on the strength of the promises of King Louis.None of these promises had been fulfilled. The supplies of arms and moneyhad been most meagre, the few thousand troops sent had never taken partin any of the operations, and their coming had been much more thancounterbalanced by the troops sent from Ireland in exchange for them. Anadditional cause of discontent was given by the fact that Williamexchanged all the prisoners taken in Ireland for Dutch prisoners, in thehands of Louis, and the Irish so handed over were all incorporated in theFrench army.
So great was the discontent that, had a proclamation of pardon andprotection been offered, the whole Irish army would have disbanded, andall resistance ceased. But Louis, alarmed at finding that it was likelyWilliam would be freed from his troubles at home, and be at liberty togive his whole attention to the war on the Continent, sent fresh promisesof large and speedy aid; and despatched General Saint Ruth to take thecommand in Ireland, in place of Lauzun, who had returned to France.
This appointment caused fresh discontent among the Irish. Their cause hadalready been well-nigh ruined by the interference and incapacity of theFrench generals, and, on the retirement of Lauzun, they had confidentlyexpected that Sarsfield would be appointed commander-in-chief, and thathenceforth there would be unity of design in their operations. Saint Ruthwas accompanied by a large number of young French officers, whosedemeanour still further widened the breach between the French and Irish.
Saint Ruth at once inspected the army, now concentrated between Limerickand Athlone. Except that there was a great deficiency in horses for thecavalry, the army was greatly improved in discipline and appearance sincethe battle of the Boyne, for both officers, petty officers, and men hadlearned their duties. The army had passed the winter in comfortablequarters, and had been well supplied with food.
The difficulty was to find horses. The rapparees had carried off many ofthe chargers of the English cavalry, by stratagem, and it was a commonpractice of the Danish and other foreign troops to sell their horses tothe Irish, at the outposts, and pretend that they were stolen. Still, thesupply was altogether insufficient, and Saint Ruth, finding that he couldnot get horses from the enemy, determined to take them from his friends.
A proclamation was accordingly issued, inviting all the gentry throughoutthe country held by the Irish, to meet him at Limerick, mounted andaccoutered in the best manner. Reports were spread that an importantcommunication was to be made to the gentlemen of the country, from KingJames, and that many marks of honour and distinction were to beconferred.
Accordingly, there was a very numerous attendance of gentry on the dayfixed. Saint Ruth appeared on the ground with a large body of cavalry. Hemade a speech to the gentlemen--complimented them on their punctualattendance and gallant appearance; told them that it was necessary thatevery man should make sacrifices for the defence of his religion and hisestates, and requested them to hand over their horses to the cavalry. Hethen at once rode off the ground, leaving the cavalry to take possessionof the horses.
Anger and expostulation were useless, and the gentlemen had to return onfoot, sadder men; but the army obtained a large and valuable addition ofhorses, and Saint Ruth was able to march out at the head of twentythousand foot, and five thousand well-appointed cavalry.
Their direction was Athlone, towards which point Ginckle was alsodirecting his movements, having assembled his whole force at Mullingar,withdrawing the garrisons from almost all the towns, in order to raisehis force in the field. The alarm in Dublin was, in consequence, extreme,and the council and lords justices besought Ginckle not to leave themwithout protection; but he only replied that they had it in their ownpower to put an end to the war, by publishing such a declaration ofpardon and security, for person and property, as would satisfy the Irishin James's army. But the council, even in this moment of alarm, refusedto renounce their golden hopes of confiscation.
Ginckle's first attack was directed against the village of Ballymore,which lay between Mullingar and Athlone. It was defended by a thousandcavalry and infantry, and a sergeant and a few men were posted, in acastle, on an eminence some distance from the village. The first attackwas made on the castle, but the sergeant and his little garrison made along and gallant resistance, and the savage Dutchman was so infuriated atthe opposition that, when at last the post was taken, he ordered thegallant sergeant to be at once hung.
He then sent word to the garrison of the village that, if they did notsurrender, he would serve them as he had served the sergeant. They wereunmoved by the threat, and made a long and gallant defence against thewhole of Ginckle's army; and the Dutch general was unable to overcometheir resistance, till he at last offered fair terms of surrender. Theposition being a strong and important one, Ginckle spent some days inadding to the defensive works the Irish had erected, before he movedforward and sat down in front of Athlone. His army was well provided withheavy artillery and everything necessary for a siege, and he was firmlyresolved that there should be no repetition of the disastrous failure ofthe preceding autumn.