THE
EVE OF ALL-HALLOWS;
OR,
ADELAIDE OF TYRCONNEL;
A ROMANCE.

IN THREE VOLUMES.

By MATTHEW WELD HARTSTONGE, Esq. M. R. I. A.

Nescia mens hominum, fati sortisque futuræ

Et servare modum, rebus sublata secundis!

* * * * * * * * * tempus erit,

* * * * * et quum spolia ista diemque

Oderit!

Virgilius, Æ. x. I. 501.

VOL. II.

LONDON:

FOR G. B. WHITTAKER, AVE MARIA LANE.

1825.

CONTENTS

THE EVE OF ALL-HALLOWS.

CHAPTER I.

——————I have marshalled my men,

Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one.

They are true to the last, of their blood and their breath;

And like reapers descend to the harvest of death.

Campbell.

Many a trumpet sounded forth the bold advance, and many a drum beat to arms, and full many a heart throbbed high, upon the morning of the ever memorable first of July, 1690. Then burst forth the signal-gun that loudly pealed forth the approach of day, re-echoed by the woods and waters of the Boyne. This signal was to announce to the troops of the Prince of Orange instantly to commence their march as soon as summoned by the cannon's roar. Their march was about three miles distant from the margin of that stream which on this day was destined to become the rubicon of empire!

The plan of attack, upon the part of the Prince of Orange, consisted of three parts. We shall now begin with the first:—Count Menard Schomberg (the son of Field Marshal Duke of Schomberg, and Commander-in-Chief under the Prince of Orange) was to lead on the right wing towards the westward of some fords which adjoined the bridge of Slane; the force consisted chiefly of cavalry, and amounted to ten thousand men; Count Schomberg commanded the cavalry, and Lieutenant General Douglas the infantry. Their route to the ford, which it had been determined they were to pass, lay through an unenclosed country, the grounds of which were partly covered with low brush-wood, over which the horses sprung with delight; and had the soldiers been clad in green a spectator might have imagined he looked down on a hunting party, instead of beholding an army upon the burst of battle; for, startled and roused from their peaceful lair, numerous rabbits and hares were seen to jump forth from beneath underwood, furze, fern, and heath; which soon set the soldiery at fault, and who for the moment gave up (tumultuously dashing into the merry greenwood) the hunting of men for chase of the leporine tribe; and they were not brought back to a sense of duty until thrice the bugle of recall had sounded; when having knocked on the head some hundreds of these peaceful, harmless animals, the troops gave up the chase, which is the symbol, for the dire reality of war.

They had now arrived on the margin of the Boyne, and upon the opposite banks were entrenched King James and his army, consisting of English, Scotch, Irish, and French troops. The latter were the experienced veterans of Louis the Fourteenth, who had toiled and conquered in many a desperate conflict.

The camp of King James was stationed thus:—On its right was the city of Drogheda, filled with Irish soldiers: upon the further banks of the Boyne, and to the eastward, their tents were extended in two parallel lines, and protected by a deep morass, and on the left it was difficult to be passed. In front of the camp were the fords of the Boyne deep and dangerous, protected by rugged banks, and defended by some breast-works; while the huts and hedges were lined with infantry on the rere; and at some distance arose the church and village of Donore, upon whose commanding heights King James in person was stationed. Three miles further onward was the pass of Duleek, on which King James firmly depended for a retreat, if such should be found wanting. The works thrown up for the defence of the camp were strong, and well fortified in front by the broad and deep waters of the Boyne; while the ditch, or fosse, defending this position, was deep, and flanked with redoubts, batteries, and pallisadoes.

The batteries of James kept up a brisk fire, pouring forth cannon-shot upon the assailants, and not without due effect. This was to awe the troops of Count Menard Schomberg, and incapacitate them from fording the river. But it was not long erewhile that this deep salutation from the cannon's mouth was duly responded to, and with correspondent effect, by Count Schomberg, who, advancing to the margin of the ford, planted on the spot three twenty-four pounders, which instantly commenced to fire upon the enemy's intrenchments. This was soon again answered on their part by five field-pieces returning the cannonade, which General Sarsfield had mounted on his batteries. However, after an hour's heavy and destructive cannonade, the superior weight of metal and calibre irresistibly carried its expected success. Several of the French and Irish artillery were killed; guns might then be seen dismounted, some with their wheels broken, and others hurled from their carriages, all thus rendered useless. Count Schomberg thus witnessing their batteries to be effectually silenced, gave the signal for fording the Boyne; and boldly and promptly dashed first onward at the head of his squadron, the trumpets, drums, and kettle-drums, and all the accompanying bands, striking forth their martial music, to which the waters of the Boyne re-echoed. This was of course to encourage and arouse the ardour of his troops, who, with a firm unbroken front, dashed impetuously into the stream, as though it had been their natural element. The waters were indeed deep, the infantry found them breast-high, and were compelled to carry their muskets above their heads, to preserve them dry and fit for service; while the horses of the cavalry were forced in many instances to swim, the current of the river having been stopped by this sudden and mighty influx of men and horses, which, as might have been expected, raised the waters of the Boyne to an unusual height. In the mean time a large squadron of infantry arrived on the opposite bank, who kept up a galling fire, at which time some of the cavalry of King James plunged into the stream to oppose the landing of the troops of the Prince of Orange. It then became uproar, noise, and confusion, all the while death was busy on the Boyne, and upon its opposite banks.

"Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan!"

With the loss of many wounded, and in a greater ratio of others who were slain, Count Menard Schomberg effected the landing of his troops; at which time the dragoons of King James began incontinently to retreat towards the main body, which was attended with very considerable loss. The main body of King James's infantry was extended in two parallel lines. Lieutenant General Douglas finding how matters stood, sent promptly for a reinforcement of foot to extend his lines in a similar manner; but this intention was impeded by the intervention of an extensive bog to his left, which rendered it quite impossible for his cavalry to pass; he therefore ordered them to defile to the right, and the infantry to march in open column to the left, and then to pass the bog, or morass, in single files. This passage of the troops was effected below the bridge of Slane. And having now dispersed the troops which opposed him, his object was to force his way to the ford of Duleek, so that at once he might attack the enemy from behind, and totally cut off his retreat at the same moment. King James perceiving Count Schomberg to march for Slane, and great bodies of troops moving with him, concluded that the whole army were taking the same route; and that the English and Dutch troops, conscious of the difficulty of forcing the fords between the camps, would not, thus circumstanced, dare to attempt them, discouraged, as well they might be, from an expected attack on their flank, in such an enterprise. However, should they attempt, and succeed, he apprehended that his communication with Duleek might in the mean time be cut off. Accordingly, under this full impression, King James sent forward a great force to watch Count Schomberg, and by his doing so he weakened his principal force. The Count Schomberg, in consequence of these improvident movements of his opponent, found but little opposition to his ulterior passage of the ford, soon dispersing the few troops which had soonest arrived to oppose him; and then he dashed on with his infantry, and boldly floundered through the bog; while he sent his cavalry round over a narrow tract of firm ground. The boldness of which action completely discouraged his opponents; in consequence of which they rapidly retreated to Duleek.

We are now come to the second part of the attack, as devised and planned by the Prince of Orange. The moment that the prince was informed that Count Schomberg had passed the ford, and had accomplished the landing of his troops, although his Highness had long been quite prepared to ford the river, yet the information which he received of the complete success of Count Schomberg increased his desire to commence the march, which he instantly began. He was attended by Duke Schomberg, who was to command the centre of the army. The Dutch Guards, in their blue jackets and orange facings, first plunged into the waters of the Boyne. The Brandenburghers at the same instant, impelled by national competition, dashed also simultaneously into the stream, led on by their gallant colonel.

The Dutch Guards, who thus led on the van of battle, were broadly exposed to the fire of their enemies, whose lines were intrenched along the opposite heights of the Boyne, and also by several battalions stationed upon the banks beneath. These troops of King James not only resisted on the banks, but plunging into the stream, manfully opposed the approach of the infantry of the Prince of Orange. But the troops of his Highness, even while in the river, fired a grand discharge of musketry, which instantaneously checked their opponents. Here a chivalrous combat for the standard of green Erin, fought for in the very bosom of the Boyne, is worthy of being recorded, while

"Advanced—forced back, now low, now high,

The pennon sunk and rose." [1],

The standard of the golden harp was borne by Cornet Hamilton, nephew to Major General Hamilton, and an officer in the General's regiment of horse. The combat for the armorial banner was sustained by a brave officer of the Brandenburghers, who seemed determined at every risk to possess the standard, and place it as a trophy at the feet of the Prince of Orange. The conflict was fought with desperate fury; they fought in the flood—they fought at the ford; they next landed on the banks, and fought upon the verdant shores of the Boyne. Here Hamilton, dreading to lose the banner he had so gallantly defended, tore the banner from the standard-staff, (it was the work of only a moment,) and instantly wrapped the banner around his body, while with earnest enthusiasm he exclaimed:—

By death alone shall Erin's harp be won,

And through the life-blood of her faithful son!

The dreadful personal combat now recommenced, and in the fierce and astounding shock of the charge, the sword of Hamilton was shivered in twain; and within the same moment, from the overpowering shock and impetus of the charge, both the combatants instantaneously were flung, horse and rider, to the ground. They now arose upon equal terms, for both were disarmed; but still they met, while each with daring desperation contended for the prize; foot opposed to foot, knee to knee, and arm to arm! For some time they strenuously contended with doubtful success; but soon the Brandenburgh officer was upon the point of success, when Cornet Hamilton, with deep determined desperation, aided by bodily strength, instantly seized upon the Brandenburgher, and with all resistless force plunged himself and his adversary into the waters of the Boyne, from whence neither ever more were seen to rise! And it was horrifying to hear the splash of the gurgling waters into which the brave combatants, fighting with an unsubduable valour, sunk entombed, never more to rise! and this amid the applauding shouts, or rather shrieks, of either contending army, who had meantime given a pause to the battle; while intently gazed both friend and foe, with wonder, awe, and admiration, upon such a determined deadly feat of chivalry! seldom equalled, and probably never surpassed, neither in the annals of war, nor amid the feats and fictions of chivalry!

The Duke of Tyrconnel gallantly headed and led on his own regiment of dragoon guards in headlong charge, with signal bravery, and not without due effect. At length, however, the duke was repulsed, and his charger which he rode was shot dead, and fell with his manly master to the ground. However, he was soon seen mounted again, having arisen without hurt from the earth, and briskly vaulted on a led horse of his own, which was conducted instantly to him by his groom from the rere of the regiment. The Irish troops were, at this period of the battle, thrown into some confusion, and compelled unwillingly to retire. But the duke conducted the retreat in a masterly and gallant manner. Soon after this the English and Danish troops, with the brigades of Sir John Hanmer and Melionére, immediately followed, and passed the ford without opposition. The cause assigned for this disposition of the forces was this:—that the Prince of Orange well knew that both the Dutch and Brandenburghers were warmly attached to his person, and he felt convinced that the Huguenots and Enniskilliners were as deeply attached to their religion. But the Danes at that time he did not as yet sufficiently know; and much he feared to oppose the English forces who now supported the princely James, their lawful sovereign, and who had formerly commanded them, as now he did, in person.

Field Marshal Duke of Schomberg, who was most anxious, yet at the same time doubtful of success, thinking the attempt a desperate one, still firmly retained his station, surrounded by a strong body of troops, in order to yield assistance wherever most it was wanted. The French troops of King James now seemed to start from the earth, for hitherto they had remained undiscovered; but now they arose upon the sight from among the little hills, appearing far more numerous than what they really were. This deception arose from the circumstance of their gradually, and at intervals, arising to view from the brush-wood, thickets, and ditches, where they lay stationed; and furthermore from the extension of their ranks, from the interposition of trees, walls, and hedges, and the intervention of houses, hamlets, and other objects, which had hitherto obscured them.

Major General Hamilton, at the head of his own regiment of dragoons, made a truly gallant charge, while fiercely he attacked the squadron of the Danes, and withal with such vigour and success, that they soon fled back incontinently through the river. Hamilton's cavalry, and that of the Count de Lauzun, meanwhile pursued them, and having briskly chased them, but without effect, as soon they returned, and then fell furiously upon the French Huguenots, who having no pikes to sustain the dreadful charge, their ranks of infantry were instantly broken through. Here suddenly the cry arising of "horse! horse!" (of which to support them they were in great want) having been mistaken for "halt! halt!" still further threw the centre of the squadron of the Prince of Orange into great disorder. The Dutch?—They halted indeed, and with a vengeance. The Huguenot ranks were broken through, while slowly the English succour advanced; and the Danes, without even waiting to be attacked, wheeled somewhat precipitately "right about," then fled panic-struck, and plunged into the Boyne to effect a retreat. Not slow, however, were some companies of Hamilton's dragoons to pursue, who promptly dashed into the river to cut off a retreat.

At this point of the battle, the brave, the intrepid Callimoté, who in person commanded his valiant corps of Huguenots—he who had been the faithful partner of the toils and victories, and partaker of the glories of Schomberg in former battles—at this moment was cut down by one of Hamilton's horse. He had indeed received a mortal wound! He fell, but was soon upraised by his brave soldiers; and while they bore him away, bleeding even to death, in their arms, still strong and deep in agony was heard the hero's voice. He called aloud to his brave companions in the battle, "A la gloire, mes enfans—á la gloire!" and while thus exclaiming, he died in the arms of his valiant comrades! Thus nobly sunk this valiant man. He died a hero, and fell as the brave should fall, shouting even in death the cry of victory! Meanwhile Duke Schomberg was distinctly seen spurring onward his noble charger even in the deepest part of the Boyne, encouraging and calling aloud upon the Huguenots to rally, and accompanying this with his gesture, his voice, and his sword. His strenuous and manly exertions were beheld and heard in vain, for no succour advanced!

Hamilton's cavalry, a second time breaking through the ranks of the flying Huguenots, wounded Duke Schomberg in the engagement, and hurried him along; when his own troops firing at the duke through mistake, he fell lifeless from his war-horse.

Hamilton's terrific charge on the part of the Irish, and the relief brought to reinforce the Duke of Schomberg's squadron, on the other, gave time to both sides to rally, and prepare for a renewed engagement. The Duke of Tyrconnel performed prodigies of valour. He here had a second horse shot under him while sustaining this dreadful conflict.

We must now come to the third part of the battle, as it was arranged (as we have before premised) by the Prince of Orange.

During the two former attacks every where was to be seen the blue and orange plumes of Nassau waving over flood and field! Now also every where was he to be seen quickly to rush into danger, riding rapidly from place to place, examining every regiment and troop, exhorting and inspiring them by look, gesture, and action. The soldiers were well pleased at this attention; they were flattered and animated, every man considering himself under the immediate inspection of his royal leader, while every motion and manœuvre his counsel, conduct, and courage directed.

The Prince of Orange led on the left wing of the army, accompanied by Prince George of Denmark, and they passed the Boyne at the ford of Old Bridge, between the army of James and the town of Drogheda; and it was not without difficulty that this measure was accomplished. Here the charger of the Prince of Orange got entangled in a bog or morass at the other side of the river, where he had landed, and where he was forced to alight until one of the royal attendants succeeded in extricating "Sorrel" (for so was the royal charger named) from his entanglement in the morass, and assisted the prince to remount.

As soon as all the troops had passed over the Boyne water, and were put in some order, the Prince of Orange commanded them to march; and constantly was he seen upon the alert, with his large conspicuous triangular hat and nodding plumes, urging "Sorrel" in full gallop at the head of his cavalry, his sword drawn, and his wounded arm freed from the scarf which had supported it. He waved his sword on high, and encouraged and inflamed the soldiery to battle.

At this sight the troops of King James manifested a disposition to retreat. King James, however, endeavoured by every method and persuasion he could use to rally his men, while loudly he repeatedly called out to them,

"On, on ye brave!"

while to his general officers he expressed his fixed determination "to make a bold and resolute effort for the recovery of his throne; for that all the hopes of his restoration depended upon the result of that day!"

The Prince of Orange now despatched twelve battalions and nine squadrons to strengthen his right wing, and placed himself at the head of the left wing of his army. The right, as we have before observed, was commanded by Count Menard Schomberg; the centre by Field-Marshal Duke of Schomberg, and the left by William.

In the meantime all the forces of King James, except the detachment which had retired to Duleek, promptly gathered from all quarters, and formed a firm and formidable phalanx around their king. Here the battle raged loud and stormy, but with various success, for about an hour, representing both to the eye and ear all the horrors of civil and foreign war commingled. Here waved in the breeze the silver lilies of France; there undulated the silver harp of Erin, the golden lion of old merry England; and the Scottish unicorn, with the bordure of the thistle; next the Belgic lion in refulgent gold; then the dark, black eagle of Brandenburgh, with the ominous raven of Denmark, all waving in the morning breeze, and in the fierce discordant attack shaken to and fro, like the woods of some ancient forest. Here, and every where, resounded the languages of France, England, Holland, Denmark, Germany, and Ireland—all spoken promiscuously. May we then not observe, what a scene was there combined! withal the various and varied nations, their troops' uniforms consisting of various and discordant hues, all combining and forming the different tints of the rainbow, including many ultra and even plus-ultra dyes of the arc of heaven!—green, blue, black, yellow, scarlet, and some undefinable colours. The varied look that caught the eye, and the varied language that irresistibly reached the ear, rendered this ever most remarkable battle-scene truly another Babel! While Frenchmen fought against their fellow-subjects in some quarters of the field—while in others brave Britons contended against Britons—and, alas! the sons of unhappy Ireland fought against each other in opposing ranks!—Oh, the reflection was dreadful!

At this period of the battle Tyrconnel defeated the English, who were commanded by General De Ginckle, and who thereupon suddenly retreated. The Prince of Orange, perceiving what Tyrconnel had done, rallied the English cavalry, and remonstrated with them upon their flight. When thus urged, they rushed again upon the charge, and not without some success.

The Prince of Orange brought up his Dutch cavalry and the Enniskilliners to support the charge; his Highness then wheeled to the left, and the Enniskilliners, through mistake, did the same. Upon this the prince galloped furiously to the right, and drew up his Dutch troops. The Enniskilliners upon this became conscious of the mistake which they involuntarily had committed, and they instantly reoccupied their ground, and fought resolutely.

At this momentous crisis of the battle, the brave Tyrconnel strained every nerve to support the troops under his command. He galloped in front, and from flank to rere, while every where he exhorted, encouraged, and animated the troops, as onward he galloped through the ranks.

"Rise, might of Erin, rise!

Now on the foes' astonish'd eyes

Let thy proud ensigns wave dismay!

Here let the thunder of thy battle roll,

And bear the palm of strength and victory away!"

Here Tyrconnel encountered the Brandenburgh cavalry, with their gallant colonel at their head, who, not unobserved by Tyrconnel, throughout that well-fought field performed prodigies of valour. The duke and colonel met, and closed in single combat, managing the broad sword with equal—nay, with consummate skill; when a private of the Brandenburghers, perceiving that the duke had the advantage of his leader, presently level ling his carbine, and aiming at Tyrconnel, he suddenly fired it off. The duke escaped, but his noble charger fell, and flung with tremendous force to the earth the hero whom he had borne. In an instant the colonel was on his feet, and raised his gallant opponent in his arms.

"Brave and truly noble colonel! accept my warm and grateful thanks for this truly generous and heroic act; and permit me, at the same time, to know to whom I am so much, so highly indebted?"

"Noble duke," rejoined the valiant stranger, "for such I know you to be, indeed you much overrate my service. However, at some future time, more propitious than the present, my name shall be divulged to you; at the present moment I have reasons quite sufficient to cause me to decline the explanation which you require. But you shall have two pledges, and from a true knight, for the fulfilment of my promise, solemnly made in the battle-field!"

He then loudly called to his equery: "Ho! Malcolm, bring Fergus from the rere!" While on the instant the equerry advanced, bringing a noble Hanoverian charger of a beautiful cream colour, who loudly snorted, neighed, and proudly pawed the ground. The stately animal was ready caparisoned for the field.

The colonel next took a ring from off his finger; it was an antique cameo, exquisitely sculptured; the gem was a ruby of immense value; the subject was the genius of Victory crowning Hercules.

"This," said the colonel, "you must permit me to place on your hand, as an humble mark of my esteem and admiration of the brave who belong to every country. This and my trusty charger are the gages for the fulfilment of my promise."

"In return," replied the duke, "noble and generous stranger," at the same moment taking from out his bosom a diamond star, which was appended to a chain of gold, "receive this diamond star!" And flinging it with much grace around the colonel's neck, he added: "Wear this for sake of me! This morning it was given me by my king, who commanded me to place it around the bravest neck and the boldest heart I should this day meet in the field."

"Then," rejoined the stranger, "you should have reserved it for your own, and have allowed it to remain; for where it was placed it best became!"

"Not so, gallant Sir," resumed the duke, "my beloved sovereign's mandates I have now faithfully fulfilled."

Here the bugles of the contending squadrons pealed forth "a recall," and the duke of Tyrconnel and the Colonel of the Brandenburghers parted, highly and mutually pleased, and earnestly hoping yet to meet. Having warmly shaken hands, the duke adroitly vaulted on the Hanoverian steed—it was the third which he had mounted on that bloody day! And when both were on horseback, they once more cordially shook hands, while each with much regret bade the other adieu!

Throughout this momentous battle Tyrconnel had performed prodigies of valour: he was every where to be seen, every where to be heard; his rallying voice and look remonstrating with and encouraging the timid and wavering, while gallantly he led on the brave to the charge. During this deadly fight he lost three horses, which were shot beneath him, as has been already mentioned. But still undismayed, he each time returned to the charge; and if the crown of King James possibly could have been preserved by the talents, loyalty, affection, and invincible courage of an individual, it would have been fully secured by the firmness and fidelity of Tyrconnel.

——————"Si Pergama dextrâ

Defendi possent, etiam hâc defensa fuissent!"

During the heat of the action at Old Bridge one of the Dutch dragoons of the Prince of Orange rode up, and not knowing his person, clapped a pistol to his head. "What!" calmly observed the prince, and with much presence of mind, "what! do you not know your friends?"

The Count de Lauzun held firm for a considerable time in the village of Old Bridge, although his troops were severely galled with the shells which were incessantly poured against them from the mortars which the Prince of Orange had planted at the entrance of the village. The count's force was principally composed of French troops. At length, being overpowered, he was reluctantly compelled to yield; however, he retired in good order, leaving numbers of his opponents dead upon the field of battle.

Major-General Hamilton, of whose exploits we have already made honourable mention, was certainly, it must be allowed by all, an experienced commander, and a brave soldier. He headed his cavalry in conjunction with the Irish infantry, who were allotted to protect the ford of Duleek. Several attempts hitherto, but in vain, were made upon the enemy's post to force the ford; but now they were compelled to yield to superior numbers. General Hamilton, upon finding that matters stood thus, placed himself at the head of the cavalry who were to cooperate with his infantry, fought with fierce and obstinate courage in repelling the assailants; but being wounded in the head by a sabre blow, he was taken prisoner. The right wing of the Irish upon this event gave way, and they retired from the hedges and ditches, &c. where they had been intrenched, and retreated across a bog to Duleek, where they attempted to rally. But upon hearing that the left wing of their army was defeated at Old Bridge, they gave way, and again retreated, leaving the pass at Duleek undefended. Upon this, without losing the moment of advantage, the Prince of Orange placed his troops in order, and directed a general pursuit from all quarters. The close pressure of the enemy, the consequent hurry of the flight, and the determination of the pursuers, prevented the troops of King James from defending the pass at Duleek, and the victory became complete and decided upon the part of King William—which title he had now obtained by the sword; and then tumultuous cries were heard shouting through the air, of "Nassau and victory!—Vive le Roy Guillaume!—Vive le héros Guillaume!—Orange Boven!—Een overwinnaar Boven al!" &c. &c.

King William pursued with promptitude the flying troops of James, and committed slaughter, chasing them four miles beyond Duleek. Night coming on put a termination to the pursuit, and the pursuers were ordered to return. They took possession of booty to a large amount, an extensive train of baggage, chariots, waggons, horses, arms, and ammunition. All the night the army of William stood to their arms. In this well fought battle the Irish lost three thousand men; King William lost about one thousand. The persons of note who were killed among the former army were the Marquis d'Hackinkourt, Lord Dungannon, Lord Carlingford, and Sir Neal O'Neal. Upon the part of King William was slain Field Marshal the Duke of Schomberg, the wisest, bravest, and the greatest captain of the age, and at the advanced age of seventy years this brave and valiant hero fell! The brave Callimoté also was killed, and gloriously at the head of his regiment, as has been already observed. At this battle also was slain the celebrated and Reverend George Walker, who had so gallantly defended Derry; he was killed a few steps behind King William. When the account of his death was brought to the king, His Majesty said, "Fool that he was, what had he to do here?" "Words," as Sir John Dalrymple justly remarks, "which dishonoured the living, not the dead!"

The passage of the Boyne by King William was an enterprise certainly the most courageous that history can attest; and however great and glorious was that day's victory, yet, nevertheless, dearly was it purchased in having cost the life of Field Marshal Schomberg. Throughout this arduous and bloody day King William received no manner of hurt, although he was actively engaged in the height of the action. However, a cannon ball carried away a piece of his coat; but he received no wound in consequence. Throughout this eventful fight he was seen to chase the field, to dispose and arrange every attack, and several times to lead on the charge; and whenever his troops began to shrink, he was instantly observed to rally and support them, displaying upon every occasion firm conduct, courage, and determined resolution.

King James had been often heard to declare, that "he was born to be the sport of fortune!" But had he acted differently from what he did at the battle of the Boyne, he would have placed himself above the reach of fortune; had he determinedly mingled in the fight, and had he animated his troops every where and upon all occasions by his presence and example, instead of looking on, as latterly he did, a tame and timid spectator from the church of Donore; in a word, had his nerves been as firm as the hands and hearts of his Irish subjects were true, then indeed all his hopes and fondest expectations of his restoration might have been fully realized.

King William (in historic truth we must admit) did all that man, statesman, or general, could do, to win over to his cause the Duke of Tyrconnel. But the duke was too true, too just, too firm, and too loyally fond of his royal master, to be tampered with, or even to give an ear to the proffered corruption. No! "he was true to the last."

The fate of this important battle was decided in a great degree by its locality; for, however strange it may appear, both parties had neglected to occupy the pass or ford of Slane. King William advanced in three columns to the opposite banks of the river, reconnoitred, and adjusted his plan of operation, determining to attack by the right and centre.

On the morning of the battle, in pursuance of this determination, he detached a corps to pass by Slane. This force arrived sooner at its destination than that sent by King James, who quickly saw his error when it was too late to counteract it. The curve of the river there forced the troops of James to make a considerable detour, whereby time was given to William's detachment to arrive and seize the pass before they could effect it; which having forded, and then formed, they advanced on the left of the army of James, and extending their lines to the right, they turned it, notwithstanding a morass in its front, by which manœuvre it was compelled to fall back in confusion towards Duleek. William so judiciously had combined his attack, that his centre was to pass precisely at the time that his right should completely have engaged the left of the army of King James. When that took place, his centre column advanced against Old Bridge, and his left proceeded to the fordes, which having passed, they obtained the opposite banks at the projecting curve of the Boyne; they then formed at that point, and received an attack from the right and centre of James, which having fully repulsed, they advanced. In consequence of which movement the army of James fell back in the distance of two miles to the heights of Donore, where they formed, and then they again advanced to the charge; but the cavalry of William having, in obedience to his orders, completely turned their left, the fortune of the day was irretrievable, and they were thus compelled to fall back with considerable loss to Duleek, behind which station once more they rallied.

We certainly think that too much praise cannot indeed be possibly given to the brave and faithful Irish who so manfully supported King James, however undeserving he might have been of that support. They acted according to their conscience—according to their religion—and devoted to their sovereign, as they were, by their sworn allegiance. Their lawful, but unfortunate king, threw himself into the arms of his Irish subjects for protection and a restoration to his rights; they instantly thronged around the royal standard. Although certainly James was wholly undeserving of this support, from his tyranny and oppression—"not fit" indeed "to govern," but we cannot say "not fit to live;" yet still his various arbitrary measures—his confinement of the seven bishops in the tower of London—his cruel and ill advised Bill of Attainder in the Irish Parliament—his reversal of the Act of Settlement, and various other despotic acts, which impartial justice must ever assuredly condemn;—yet still let History inscribe on the bright margin of her page, and record down to the remotest point of time, the love, affection, fidelity, and allegiance of a nation (but too often rashly and unjustly condemned) upon whom the royal exile had flung himself, as on a dear but desperate hope—a derniér resort—and upon whose hearts and arms he relied as the forlorn hope of his crown, dignity, and restoration!

Let history hand down this, while it must not be denied that of this protection and support James was in every respect wholly undeserving; for in two words his character may be told—he was a bigot and a tyrant!

James having ungenerously, as unjustly, thrown some reflections on the courage of his Irish troops, observing to some of his general officers, "that he would never again trust his cause to an Irish army;" with much spirit they replied: "That throughout the fight their troops had acted no inglorious part, though unanimated by a princely leader; that while William shared danger in common with his army, encouraging them with his presence, by his voice, and by his example, yet that King James stood aloof at a secure distance, the quiet spectator of a contest on the result of which depended his crown and realms!" And then, with deep and wounded indignation at such ingratitude, they nobly exclaimed: "Exchange kings! and once more we shall fight the battle again!" A more noble burst of deeply taunted feelings and justly aroused indignation than this cannot be found in history.

The title of King William to the throne of these realms was the choice of the people, from whom the sovereign power emanated: and in whatever point of view the Revolution of 1688 may be considered, it cannot be, however, denied, so long as truth exists, that it was most important to the religious and civil liberty of three kingdoms; and, moreover, it established an important dictum, or principle, in the Constitution, then hitherto unknown, defining the duties of the monarch and of the subject, and holding forth to both prince and people the immutable and immortal truth, That allegiance and protection are reciprocal obligations!

CHAPTER II.

——————Dread echoes shall ring

With the blood-hounds that bark for thy fugitive king;

Anointed by heav'n with the vials of wrath,

Behold where he flies on his desolate path.

Campbell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BALLAD.

I heard them repining for Erin declining,

Her shamrock entwining the conqueror's sword;

Misfortune combining, his crown James resigning,

His laurels all blasted at Boyne's fatal ford!

Lo! neglected her lyre, whose magical fire

Rous'd princes and chieftains in battle array;

Erin's minstrels and bards indignant expire,

They saw not, survived not, their country's decay!

Wherever I wander I mournful ponder,

Lamenting the issue of Boyne's woful fray;

O Erin, my country! no lover loved fonder,

Tho' fame with thy freedom have parted asunder;

Like summer clouds fleeting at close of the day,

Their glories fast fading in twilight away!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"From the loud cannons' mouth."

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

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

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

When Boyne ran red with human gore,

And royal Stuart fled Donore;

While William seiz'd King James's throne,

A people's voice had made his own;

This tow'r did friendly refuge give

To James, the royal fugitive;

And loyal love had here the pow'r

Awhile to cheer misfortune's hour!

Oh, then for aye this antique tow'r be blest,

Which succour gave to royalty opprest!

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

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

"God save King James!"

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

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

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

Te Deum was chanted in the cathedral church of Notre Dam, where members of the parliament assisted, clad in their red robes, to return thanks to heaven for the death of the Prince of Orange!!![10]

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

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

CHAPTER III.

Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim.

Latin Proverb.

Ostendam metiri ulnis pedibusque necesse est;

Quemque premas, dubiâ morte parare locum.

Urbium Belgicarum Centuria.

It is incumbent here that we should again return to Ostend, and attend our shipwrecked voyagers, who have been left so long in durance vile, as contained in the first chapter of our first volume; and advert to other notable accidents worthy to be known, related, and recorded.

Our readers then will vouchsafe to recollect of what importance, as a seaport, Ostend is, and ever has been considered, being only second in rank to Dunkirk. Indeed the possession of Ostend in every war has been always accounted of the highest consequence by every belligerent power, as well as by the sovereigns too of the Low Countries. The oriental situation of Ostend has given to it its name, by which one might express a port which looks to the east; and its armorial bearing[12] implies that it is one of the principal keys of Austrian Flanders.

Ostend had formerly been the simple station of fishermen, established between Nieuport and Helvoetsluys; but, increasing from various combining events, it gradually arose to consequence, numerous causes having co-operated to its enlargement. The origin of the civil wars—the fears created by the numerous pirates throughout the entire provinces of the Low Countries, &c., these gradually led to its increase, and Ostend became a place of strength and importance; her port enriching her trade and revenue by bringing home the merchandize of Europe; while her strong fortifications protected and secured the inhabitants from the machinations of their enemies; and, finally, the peace of Ghent having completely established the power of the confederated states.

At the period of which we speak Ostend was progressively recovering from the fatal effects of a protracted siege, conducted by the Spaniards under Spinola, which had lasted for the space of three years; and upon the last day of the siege it was as uncertain as upon the first whether it would be captured by the Spaniards or not; or to which side victory finally would belong. The account of the loss of lives on the part of the besiegers and the besieged in this disastrous siege, is truly most formidable; it is computed that fifteen thousand of the latter perished; some slain by the sword of war, others fell by pestilence, and others perished the victims of the marshy climate of Ostend, from fatigue of the siege, the sorties, engagements, and fire of the enemy; while the Spaniards suffered the severe loss of upwards of seventy-eight thousand men.[13]

But we must now return to the detail of our voyagers, who having ate a hearty supper at their hotel, soon retired to repose in their respective chambers. Oh, how refreshing to the wearied spirit is the renovating balm of sleep; and how invigorating is a night's undisturbed repose! And how great, how unspeakable the change, and how joyful the contrast, from the almost certain expectancy of death by a watery grave, it is upon the succeeding morning to awake, as if from the tomb, upon a bed of down, and to hail the blessed cheering light of morning! Who could forbear to raise the adoring eye and the grateful heart to heaven, for an escape so unexpected and providential! All this they deeply and devoutly felt.

The morning succeeding their preservation, while they were actively and busily occupied in the important despatch of an incomparable breakfast, and the fellow-sufferers were passing a high and well deserved eulogium on some excellent Malines ham, to their great surprise and dismay a party of Gens d'Armes, as has been before remarked, arrived at their hotel, when (the three of them) the colonel, his servant, and Doctor M'Kenzie, were arrested under suspicion of being spies, and were thrown into prison.

"This is somewhat too hard," observed Doctor M'Kenzie, "not to be allowed to swallow our rations of excellent ham! A few hours ago to have escaped the whirlpool of Charybdis, and this morn to be shipwrecked on the rock of Scylla! The sea was well nigh swallowing us yesterday, and to-day we are to be immured in prison on suspicion of being spies;

'Dextrum Scylla latus, lævum implacata Charybdis Obsidet.'"

"Yes, my Reverend Friend," replied the colonel, "this is all but too true, we have had our share of suffering indeed; but while we feel it as men, let us also bear it like men, and hope the best! For my own lot I care not; to me death, not captivity, would be welcome!"

To account for this arrest we must apprise our readers that Marshal de Rantzau had made a desperate attempt with only two thousand French troops, a very few years previous to the period of which we now speak. But eventually the French force was put to flight, with the loss of twelve hundred brave and gallant men, who fatally fell in this rash attempt. And this event it was which caused such alertness and suspicion regarding strangers to be adopted by the government and garrison of Ostend.

The prisoners were marched along under a strong escort of the Gens d'Armes, and were conducted to the chief prison, and handed over to the surveillance of the head gaoler, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, who, by the way, happened to be a countryman of the Reverend Doctor M'Kenzie. At that period the janitor of a gaol did not enjoy the present high diplomatique distinction of being termed the governor or warder of a grated citadel.

While Mr. Phelim O'Neale was showing his prisoners the apartments allotted to them, he said, addressing the Reverend Clerk:—"I know that your Riverence is my countryman, and perhaps I know still more; I therefore feel all the respect and affection which I ought to do for a countryman in a foreign land. My life has been a varied and changeable one, and it may perchance beguile away an hour of captivity, that you should deign to listen to my story. Och, I was once a roving and untamable bird, wild as the haggard-hawk[14] of my native hills, that is ever on the excursive wing; and like to it, I was not to be tamed at all; but now, in troth, I am tame enough, any how! For the present I shall only say, that from peculiar and urgent circumstances I was compelled to leave my native land. I embarked from the bay of Tyrconnel in Ireland, in a vessel bound for Virginia; at sea I was taken prisoner by the fleet and squadron of Marshal de Rantzau; and with the force of his Highness I was landed at this good city, ould Ostind. Well here I was a wandering raw recruit on Flemish ground, an unknown exile and outcast, forsaken by all, from Dan to Beersheba! Howsomdever, I was shortly thrown in the way of my brave countryman, Count Dillon, whom I knew when I was a gossoon. He was a lieutenant curnell, sarving under the marshal; and he was not slow in discovering that I possessed both cuteness and genus.—Vous avez razon mun infant! he would often say to me, (he had lived for years in France,) and yit, by my blessed sowl, I often thought that his honourable worship himself had no razon at all, at all!"

"Fie, fie! Mr. Phelim O'Neale; swear not at all! it is a work of supererogation for selling yourself, both body and soul, gratis to the infernal power! Let me hear no more of it."

"Well, your Riverence, no sooner said than done," says poor Phelim O'Neale; "by —— I will swear no more!"

"There again!—swearing an oath that you will not swear! Who ever heard the like before;—what impious inconsistency!"

"Your pardon, Riverend Father, for this time, and you shall no more catch me tripping, nor stumbling, nor swearing. Och, murder! although I have endured enough to make any feeling Christian swear hard enough—at times, any how, to be sure! by —— I mean maybe through a thick deal board itself! Well, your Riverence, to continue the thrid of my story:—Count Dillon one day took me aside, and said, 'Phelim, I clearly persave that you are a quick, cute lad, and you must assist me in a plan which I have in disjunction joined with the Marshal Rantzau, for suddenly surprising Ostind, and taking it by a parabolous stratagism, the most admirable and intripid that was ever known, thought of, or yet imagined by any bould pioneer,' as your Riverence shall hear anon. It was in the month of June, and upon the memorable fifteenth day thereof, in the year 1600 and—though I can't precisely recollect the date upon which we resolved for the execution of this intended daring and glorious enterprise, for our attacking force consisted of but two thousand men. Our stratigismus was to surprise Ostind by the gate of Nieuport, which lay upon the land side, and next to the town of Nieuport. We hoped that by the introduction of a large body of men we might possibly, perhaps certainly, possess ourselves of the town and citadel of ould Ostind. Accordingly, to be sure, with this intint, we well surveyed the gate; and before that we had geoggraphyz'd the intire country, and all the roads and passes disjacent, whersomby that by every measure and means, and all due secrecy, that our attacking force might be intraducted, and back our noble and elegant enterprise. Accordingly some half dozen soldiers, clad in garb of Flemish peasants, in their blue caps and blue frocks; and wherewithal supporting upon their backs sacks well stored with chesnuts, walnuts, &c., were to seem as if they had brought them for sale into town; and thin, upon an appointed signal, (the sacks loosely tied,) the pretinded peasants were to let them fall, (accidently on purpose no doubt,) and scatter their contints around upon the ground, which was to cause a general scramble, and take off the attention of the guard from the object which we had in view. This having taken place, the fore-said soldiers, or disguised peasants, were to rally around a waggon, or, as they call it here, a charabbon, under the same pretence, laden with baskets of fruit and vegetables, strawberries, cherries, peas, beans, &c. &c. The thing was so managed that within the waggon there were concealed about thirty soldiers. As being the chief projector, the honourable post of heading this desperate attempt, (which, if it succeeded, was soon to be followed by a powerful force,) was consigned, gentle Sirs, to your intripid and very devoted sarvant, Phelim O'Neale."

"And pray, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, if it be not taking too great a liberty, may I inquire what induced Count Dillon to place such confidence in you, and make you the head of the pioneers, or of this stratagem, upon the success of which, it would appear, turned the entire success of the attack?"

"Och, botheration! and that too I will confiss to your Riverence. 'I think,' says I, Curnell, plaze your worthy honour's worship, that I could suggist a matter to your grace's judgment that would, all in all, carry the day, and, in troth, we should soon be in possession of ould Ostind!'

"'Indeed! Mr. Phelim O'Neale; pray tell, are you on the staff?—I suppose a general at least!' said he.

"'Not I, by my own sowl!' says I. 'No, not even a corporal! But then your noble and valiant worship knows, howsomdever, that there is a little fish, not larger than four inches in lingth, and about one in bridth, that pilots and leads on the great commodore of the ocean; I mean, plaze your most noble worship, the pilot fish,[15] that steers onward the mighty shark, the goliathan of the ocean, to the wictims of his prey! What do you think now, noble commander, of this apt dissimilitude?'

"'Oh, pardon, good honest friend O'Neale, vous este une bon garcon!'

"Upon my own conscience we call this better in ould Ireland by the name of gossoon!—but no matter as to that. He then axed me if I had any patience; 'for,' said he, 'you Irish have no patience at all;' and then talked to himself, that the Irish were like one fiery hot Harry Hotspur, an Hottentot I suppose, that had no forbearance nor patience at all, at all!

"'Och, then, noble commander,' said I, 'I am the patient, enduring boy after all; I am stationary as an owl at mid-day within an ivy bush! and as patient and forbearing (baring till the time comes) as a heron perched upon the brink of a fish-brook! Och, then, by my own sowl, 'tis I am the lad that will wait for you till the very cows come home!—troth, sure enough, I would at any hop of the ball!'

"'Bravo, bravo! my bould boy;' replied Count Dillon, 'you are the very boy for my business and project—all shall go on well!' He then ejoculated, 'vous avez razon, vous avez razon,' until I fairly thought that he would have lost his own razon all out and out, any how!"

"But pray proceed, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, with your narrative, in which I begin to take some little interest."

"Thus emboldened, your Riverence, as I was by my commander's lave, I up and tould him, as I till you and your friend, all my plan, of which he highly approbated. Every matter being duly prepared, a time for making the grand attack was appointed. The soldiers who were to make the attempt, as I have already tould your Riverence, were all disguised as Flemish peasants, in their blue caps and blue frocks, and were each man to have a Flanders' pipe stuck in his jaw, and smoking away briskly, as much as to say, the devil may care for yeez all! I will now till the whole of my contrivance, as plotted and planned from the first to the last, without any deviation or prevarication from the truth at all, at all! To go on then with my story:—the charabbon, or waggon, contained, as already I have said, thirty soldiers, who upon this occasion were to be headed by me; in the cart we had several stout planks of oak, which were destinated for a treble purpose: firstly, to hide us who were packed beneath, but whose hearts were strong and unbending as the planks over our heads; and secondly, to support some baskets of fruit and vegetables, for which this country is most remarkable."

"Yes," said Doctor M'Kenzie, addressing Colonel Davidson, "it is recorded that when Anne of Cleves, the queen consort of King Henry VIII., wanted a sallad, she used to despatch a messenger to Flanders to procure one."

The colonel nodded his assent, and requested Mr. Phelim O'Neale to proceed onward with his tale.

"Well the planks were, as I said, destinated for a treble purpose, I have tould two of these; the third was, in the last place, to erect them as uprights, to prevent the falling of the portcullis upon our skulls who were to make the attack. And the charabban was intentionally, on purpose to be sure, to be overturned at the door of the guard-house to block up the guard while cracking their walnuts, &c. If this attempt of gaining the Nieuport-gate had succeeded, a carabine was to have been fired to give a signal to the Marshal de Rantzau, who was stationed with the remainder of our force, which, as I have already obsarved, amounted to two thousand men; and upon their coming up in time, in obedience to the signal, we were sure and sartin of the capture of Ostind.

"We had thus anxiously planned, and with strong grounds and hopes of success, this elegant enterprise, which was to burst forth upon the fifteenth day of June; whether the termination was fortunate or the reverse will soon be tould yeez. The military gait and air of the supposed peasants it is thought led to suspicion, and seemed to awaken the attention of the garrison. Just when the charabbonier[16] drove up his wehicle in which I was, and approached to the Nieuport-gate of Ostind, forward advanced the damniers, (douaniers,[17] or custom-house officers,) and with their accustomed agility forth flew their rapiers, flashing in the bright summer glow of the harvest moon; they cut, and thrust, and terced, prodding the contints of the waggon without any distinction or respect of persons or property, whether dead or alive stock, but according to custom, searching for counter-brand goods and chattels. At length a sharp Toledo of one of these damned damniers stuck in one of my ribs, and sure enough the blood began to leak. 'Arah,' roared I, 'what the d—l are you perpetrating; and would you be after murdering me, you Flanders' boucher!'

"'Ah, hah!—Jean Bull!—Jean diable!' cried he aloud, 'emportez soldats! ca herse—bas—bas—ouvrez le fenetre!' Which every body knows is 'shut the gate!' And sure enough bang down went the portcullis, up leapt the draw-bridge; and closed and securely bolted and barred in no time were the gates. And, oh, 'tis true enough, poor Phelim O'Neale had got sartain and sure at the wrong side of the gate, where he was soon made prisoner, and all his brave plans completely dumb-foundered and knocked upon the head in one short and sad moment. I with several others, thus caught in this Flemish trap, were made prisoners; while suspicion being aroused, and all our resources having been cut off, outnumbered as Marshal Rantzau was by the enemy, it was only left him to sound a retreat, and retire to his chaloupes, (large boats.)

"After having remained for a long period in prison, I at last caught the attention of the head gaoler, who taking a fancy to me, made me his under gaoler; and some years after, (seven I think,) upon his death, I was constatuted head gaoler. And here I am; I have a good salary, a good roomy house, and with the allowance of coals and candles. I am married to a pretty, and what is far better, to a good Flemish lass; and we have already four childer in the space of three years, and the Lord be praised they are all the right sort—they are all of the emasculate ginder! So that I am, in troth, in some sort of mizzure indamnified for my losses and sufferings by the post which I here hould."

Mr. Phelim O'Neale, the head gaoler, or, in phrase modern, diplomatique, the head governor of the citadel, paid the most marked attention to his prisoners; and said, that before the morning's dawn he would think of something that would ixtrickate them from their prison. "For when a man gets into a scrape or difficulty, Riverend Father, he has only to consult an Irishman, who will be sure and sartain to get him safely and genteely out of it."

"Ay, the Nieuport-gate of Ostend and the Spanish Toledo to wit," thought Doctor M'Kenzie to himself, "is a full elucidation of the truth of this proposition!"

Now having left them a most comfortable dinner, or supper, and which answered for both; with a bottle or two of vin du pays, and some true and veritable Rhenish wine, the warder of the citadel wished his inmates a good night. But before he departed he took Doctor M'Kenzie aside, and whispered him—"I have so managed it that by to-morrow you and your friend shall have separate apartments at night; to-morrow the arrangement shall take place, and I have much to say to you, holy Father, in secret, and to make many confissions when we shall meet alone on the morrow."

The next morning by times the warder arrived, and introduced a plentiful and excellent breakfast, not forgetting some excellent Malines ham, in the digestion of which they had been so rudely interrupted at the inn of the old Saint Michael. When breakfast was over he again returned; when opening his cloak, he produced a violin and clarionet. "Do any of you play upon these instruments?" said Phelim O'Neale.

"Yes," rejoined Doctor M'Kenzie, "I was wont in happier days than these to play for my pastime upon the violin. But such a question now in such a place—say to what can it tend? I have no such fancy in deed at present, I can assure you, my good and kind Mr. Phelim O'Neale." Who, however, proceeded, quite unrestrained by his Reverence's rebuke—"Can nobody play upon the clarionet?"

After some delay and hesitation, at length with diffidence the colonel's servant said, "Yes, Sir, I once could play upon it when I was——"

"Oh, that," said Phelim, "will do capitally! excellent! quite enough! strim-stram—drimendreuch! All will now, in troth, go on quite well, and with grate success, any how!"

He then laid down the musical instruments, and putting his hands in his pocket, produced several files and saws of various forms and sizes, and then produced a bottle of vitriol. "My plan," added he, "is now fully ripening for the liberation of yeez three; these instruments and implements are intinded to saw asunder the prison bars of your dungeon window, which being within a short distance from the ground, your freedom easily can be afficted without either damage or difficulty, or even resaving a slight prod in the small ribs, when you shall have duly accomplished the nibbling asunder of the meshes which confine yeez! And the Rev. Doctor with his fiddle, and this honest-faced lad with his clarionet—och, och, it will all do bravely and rarely to murder and drown, aye, and bother, that brave and grave gentleman's operatusses in sawing the bars; och, by my sowl, the filing will be fairly bothered. And troth yeez shant want for paper and paste to hide and cover your dainty devices in caase any body should come in, he must needs admire the nateness of your apartment."

"Sawing iron! ah," said Doctor M'Kenzie, "that is a harsh and grating amusement!" And then turning to the man of war, he said:

"They little know what ills environ

The man who meddles with cold iron!"

The colonel frowned, and seemed displeased.

The honest-hearted Phelim O'Neale, for such he was with all his faults and transgressions to boot, now bade a good night to his imprisoned friends, as he called them; and then whispered aside, that on the ensuing morow he would beg the favour to make his confessions to the Reverend Clerk what time the apartment should be ready for his gallant friend, which was under preparation, and would be ready to receive him early upon the following morning. He then bowed, and wished them all "a very good night's repose."

CHAPTER IV.

————In brief, he is a rogue of six reprieves, four pardons of course; thrice pilloried, twice sung Lachrymæ to the virginals of a cat's tail; he has been five times in the galleys, and will never truly run himself out of breath till he comes to the gallows.

The Fair Maid of the Inn.

"Now, holy and most Riverend Sir, that my eyes are blessed with seeing your benevolent visage once more," said Phelim O'Neale, "and that I behold you in these sad towers, the abode of crime and of guilt, which indeed never belonged to you, and that we are in private, with your riverend permission, I will make my confission unto you. Don't your reverence remember me?"

"Not I, in sooth."

"What! not remember Phelim O'Neale?"

"Not I, in sooth, honest Mr. Phelim O'Neale."

"Oh, baring (excepting) honest; that any how for the present we will pass by. But, holy Father, if you knew but all, you have far too many reasons not to forget me! Do you not remember that you stood by me during my last moments, and gave me the holy ritals of the church?"

"What do I hear! Stood by you in your last moments, and gave you the holy rituals of the church! and here you are!! The poor man is deranged—quite crazed. You are beside yourself, Mr. Phelim (without honest) O'Neale!"

"Nay, nay, Riverend Father, I am beside you, or rather forenent you. Do you not remember, your Riverence, that some tin years ago (small blame howsomdever to your Riverence any how, for grate razon you have, in troth, to remember Phelim O'Neale, if you knew but all!)—well, as I said, some tin years ago you attended me at the gaol of Tyrconnel in my last moments; you were present when I was hanged—ay, regularly hanged!!"

"Hanged! hanged!" ejaculated Doctor M'Kenzie; "and yet you are here!—You speak, you address me! How is this? It is madness all!"

"Not so neither, craving your excellent Riverence's pardon; I was tried for high-way robbery at the assizes of Tyrconnel;[18] I then most justly was found guilty, and condamnified by the circuit-going judge, Justice Jocum, to be hanged. And sure enough, by my sowl, hanged I fairly was—no doubt whatever of it! That is to say the hangman did his part, as the judge and jury had before done theirs; and my friends did the rest. Och, they did their part, sure enough—long life to them for the same! At that most memorable 'pocha of my life—or death! as it was by all supposed, thought, and credited, your worthy and excellent Riverence attended me in my last sad and awful moments. Thin you saw me mount the fatal ladder; the hangman gave me a hempen cravat, which, in troth, I but too well desarved! and the ladder having been suddenly taken away, I made a spring, and, as all thought, I jumpt into itirnity. But you remimber, or might remimber, that before I was launched from the fatal tree, I bouldly kicked off my brogues, and died true game. And och, may be I didn't kick them off in stylo! as much as to indiccate to my commeradoes, 'Yeez see, jewels, that I die true game; and moreover, none shall suffer in the dead man's shoes—not one of yeez! This plainly tould them all a true tale, that I had not confissed, or betrayed any of them by a cowardly disacknowledgment."

"Oh, shame, shame!" rejoined Doctor M'Kenzie, "kicking off your brogues upon the scaffold, on the confines of eternity, in the sad and solemn hour of death and suffering for crime! Oh, shame, shame! What blasphemy—what hardness of heart, and perversity of head! Detestable and abominable folly and wickedness. Why, I say, man, if you were upon the stage of a mountebank, performing pantomime tricks, to please and gull the stupid populace, such a proceeding would be indecent, indecorous, and irreligious; how much more so then, when parting from the stage of human life, branded with crime, and condemned by the voice of justice and the offended laws of your country! I cry shame upon such indecency, such horrible levity, upon so solemn and so awful an occasion as the departure of a guilty culprit (and guilty too by his own confession) from life to eternity, to answer in another world, before an offended God, for the crimes committed in this!"

"So may it plaze your Riverence, troth it was no livity at all, at all; but merely a sort of sharp signal or freemason's sign to my comrades that I had died intripid, and true to them, not having betrayed one of the gang, or club, as we called it. And now once more I am alive again, to repint anew of the same, which I most sartinly do."

"Ay, indeed!—Are you sure of that, Mr. Phelim O'Neale? Can I depend upon your living word, when your dying one was false? A proof, a proof; give me a proof, and then I shall give credence to you."

Phelim slowly drawing forth a watch from his fob: "It is here, holy Father! this is my proof. This watch was yours, became mine by the chance of war, or rapine, and now I restore it—it is yours again! Your Riverence will examine it: the maker's name, your chain, your seals—you cannot forget them any how?"

"Yes, yes, I must confess that is, or was my watch; the identity of that I cannot possibly gainsay. And if you can make out that it was you who deprived me of it, and that now again restore it, why assuredly I shall then confess that you are certes the honestest man in your calling that I have ever met with. But, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, I have a question to propose, and upon your answer to it will depend my credence of what now you say. Pray, if (I say if) hanged, how were you restored to life. A watch may be found, and a watch can be wound—may be stolen, and may be restored, but the vital spring of life is not so easily renovated.—Come, to the point."

"Your Riverence must then know, that I was cut down by my friends, and through their means restored to life, after having, to all appearance, fallen a forfeit to the law."

"As how—as how? Mr. Phelim O'Neale! explain."

"By means of hemlock juice infused by well intentioned friends into my throat and lungs. Oh, but too well I remember that, and but too well they succeeded; for after the means they used for sussicitation I recovered; but the pains which I endured were beyond those upon the fatal tree, the punishment I had endured, and the shame I had borne, for my family were indeed respectable. Upon my restoration to life, my friends disguised me in female attire, and hurried me off in a merchant vessel then in the bay, ready to slip her cables, and bound for Virginia. So away I went in the same vessel. Och, may be it was not without a sad and sorrowing heart that I left my mountain shores; for, sweet Ireland, still, with all thy faults, art thou dear to me; and with all my own too, with filial love yet do I adore thee, mavourneen, my early loved, my dear natal isle!"

Phelim O'Neale continued: "Your Riverence knows the rest of my story. A cannon shot of Marshal Rantzau's squadron soon compelled the vessel in which I was bound for Virginia[19] immediately to strike her flag; and the result of the Marshal's attack upon Ostind you are in full possession of already. Here then my story ends, but not my gratitude to you, of which, before we part, I shall endeavour to convince you of with sincerity, marked by more than mere words."

"Why, Mr. Phelim O'Neale, you have really become eloquent, and have astonished me quite by your display of words."

"No, no, Riverend Sir, they only burst forth from the heart with a full tide of over-flowing gratitude to you, and with deep contrition to myself, for all the past!"

"This my friend, my honest friend, (for such I now must call you, Phelim, for the restitution which you have made by words as well as in deeds, and I needs now must prize thee,) yes, this promises good; and sooth to say, I am pleased withal right well. There, take my hand, and along with it my best benison on you, your wife, and children."

Phelim knelt down, kissed his hand, and prayed that heaven might shower down its choicest blessings upon his reverend head.

Three entire days subsequent to this confession soon passed over, and were occupied only at intervals, in order to obviate detection, in sawing per diem a bar. Each bar was cut slanting, or diagonally, so as to be readily re-adjusted as if it had not been severed; and then the entire bar, when replaced, was covered over by means of paper, which was neatly pasted thereon, as if no undermining operations had been sapping the grated barriers of their prison-house.—Meanwhile the Reverend Chaplain was on the alert, scraping his old Cremona, and the colonel's servant thundering forth the bass tones of his clarionet, to serve as masqued batteries to drown the more subtle operations of the saw and file of the son of Mars.

Upon the evening of the third day Phelim O'Neale came into their cell just as the last bar to their enlargement was severed in twain. Suddenly then all filing and fiddling, and piping and papering, at once ceased.

"All is right," exclaimed he, "and all is well. Before two days more shall dawn you must away from this. I shall manage matters thus: I have got disguises for yeez three; you, Riverend Sir, are (in the time of travel) to be a midwife, going on a job to the town of Nieuport, three leagues from this, where I have a friend, to whom I will address a letter in behalf of all. In the furtherance of this my deep design, you shall have a silk gown, cap, rich gilt ear-rings, necklace, with a large cross—all, moreover, right tawdry enough; and a Flemish hood thrown over all, to protect Madam Needful from being sun-burnt. And, sir soldier, there shall be a lackey's dress for you; and, to boot, I have likewise got a horse, which your worship is to bestride, and which is to be mounted withal with saddle and pillion, upon which latter my lady-in-need is to ride.—And as for you, sir lackey, you shall be caparisoned in a blue check frock of true Flanders make and hue; for thou art to be a Flemish peasant riding withal in such brave company. But mind, my youth, I warn thee, that with all meet, becoming respect, thou shalt demean thyself, and ride in the rere of these gallant personages. Three horses and a guide, when we shall fix the day and hour, shall be found waiting at the porte de Nièuport."

Many hearty thanks were returned for the ingenious stratagem of Mr. Phelim O'Neale, which met with the cordial concurrence and approbation of the prisoners.

Here Mr. Phelim O'Neale resumed his speech: "It must appear that yeez all have broken prison at the time that yeez depart, so down with all the bars when yeez go, that it may fully and fidentively appear that it was any how without my will, knowledge, aid, abettance, or assistance, whatsomdever, any thing at all to the contrairy notwithstanding, that yeez fled from prison, in order that I may not suffer pains, punishments, and penalties, from these Bellawagians, who, after all, to do them justice, are fond of the English nation; and I verily and fidentially believe that the craturs would sooner again fight with Spinola Rantzau, or the d—l, nor with John Bull!"

"Yes," rejoined Doctor M'Kenzie, "that I believe to be an undoubted fact, inasmuch that the united states of Flanders ever have wished, if possible, to preserve peace and amity with England, and ever sorely have they rued the day whenever they have been forced into a war against England."

"That is most true," added Colonel Davidson, "for, Reverend Sir, you recollect the favourite saying, or apothegm, of the Emperor Charles V.:—

'Con todo el mundo guerra,

Y puz con Ingalat jerra!'

'With all the world have war,

But with England do not jar!'

And while speaking of Charles, who had the magnanimity to relinquish a throne and to retire into the monastery of Saint Jüst, it must not be forgotten the memorable declaration which he then made. While in the monastery he employed his leisure time in works of mechanism, such as clock-work, &c.; he then exclaimed, "Oh, what a fool I have been!—during my whole reign I have endeavoured to make all my subjects think alike in religious matters, and yet I cannot cause two watches to keep time together!"

"Yes, noble colonel, there is my hand for that remark, and with it is accompanied my heart! You are a Protestant and I am a Catholic, yet do I regard you and revere you, although we differ in tenets."

"And there is my hand and heart in return," said the valiant colonel; "and would to God that this could be a lesson to all the bigots of the wide world, who, however, appear, I must needs confess, alas! more zealous to frame sectarian systems, or incontinently to wage doctrinal disputes and controversies, than meekly to disseminate peace and good will upon earth! and inculcate the mild, forbearing doctrines of Christianity, the two principal virtues of which are charity and humility."

The evening of the day which succeeded that of the developement of the projected plan of escaping from prison had arrived, when, as soon as it had become dark, Mr. Phelim O'Neale commenced his operations by bringing in the different dresses in which his captives were to be disguised to facilitate their elopement; this he did gradually and cautiously, bringing sundry articles of attire at different times, so as to escape suspicion. Mr. Phelim recommended that when all were duly clad in their costume of disguise, that their own clothes and changes of linen, &c. should be carefully packed up in two valises, one of which was to be carried by the colonel's servant, and the other to be borne by the guide. "And then," he added, "yeez can throw off your disguises at my friend Malone's house, in the suburbs of Nieuport, and to whom yeez bear a letter from me."

This arrangement was assented to and resolved to be acted upon nemine con.

The trio felt exceedingly grateful to Mr. Phelim O'Neale for all the kindness which they had received, and especially for this last very strong proof of his great generosity. Dr. M'Kenzie especially felt obliged to him, as he was fully sensible that it was on his account expressly that freedom was likewise given to his fellow-sufferers.

"Many, very many thanks, kind-hearted Mr. Phelim, for all the favours which you have bestowed upon us, and most particularly for this last evincing proof. But, in sooth, we must remunerate thee for all the expense which thou hast put thyself to upon our account."

Here Phelim O'Neale whispered the Reverend chaplain: "Holy Father, I tell thee nay; for always remember that once upon a time I robbed your Riverence upon the high-way of tin times the value of which I now poorly endeavour to repay you, so that I must beg to hear no more at least upon this score. I am your debtor still! Silence, firmness, and obedience to my commands, (who am, by the powers placed in me, commandant and generalissimo of these dark towers,) are all the conditions that I now require or impose at your hands, and those of your fellow-sufferers."

"Well, well, Phelim, I suppose it all must be so as you have advised, and I do not gainsay it. But, I must indeed acknowledge that you are, beyond all doubt, hesitation, or even comparison, the most honest man whom I have ever yet met in your calling."

The prisoners now anxiously lay down to take some repose upon their beds, the sheets of which had been purposely broken up, and formed into ropes, to facilitate their descent from the gaol window, and permit their exeunt to liberty."

On the following morning the prisoners were called up at a very early hour by this kind-hearted gaoler, when they found themselves duly invigorated and refreshed by a night's sound repose. And now they hastened to put on the disguises in which they were to pursue their journey, in the adjustment of which no great time was lost. They then proceeded to dismantle the bars of the prison window, while the door and outer door, upon the retirement of the gaoler, were to remain doubly locked.

"Come, pray come, my gentle masters;" said Phelim O'Neale, "is all ready?"

Being answered in the affirmative, he said: "Well then, any how, small blame to me, I must give precedence to the church, then shall the sword support the cross, and the servant attend on his master. Come, Riverend Sir, we must now despatch—so we now proceed to business; thus before you can patter two Credos or an Ave I will have you dangling at the rope's end. Och, then, may be, any how, that wont be turning the tables upon your Riverence!—ha, ha, ha! But sure, any how, nothing can be more true nor one good turn desarves another."

Mr. Phelim O'Neale now proceeded to lower the Reverend Chaplain by means of the rope. Having duly adjusted all, he observed, "I say, your Riverence, I am now paying you off in kind."

"Marry, Phelim, a truce now to your joke-cracking, for which, by my halidam, I have neither will nor leisure at present to mind. So I say, prithee, a truce to the explosion of thy witticisms, which are, methinks, immeasurably ill-timed and chosen; so I pray reserve them for some meeter occasion of merriment."

"Your Riverence, in troth, only speaks in razon; but you know, your Riverence, that Pat can no more forego his joke at all, at all, let bide what may, than can Justice Jokum his pun, which he cracks while the rope is fairly cracking the neck of the victim to the laws."

"Well, well, Mr. Phelim, having cracked your joke, pray spare my neck from the same, and likewise my ribs from carte and tierce, for at this present moment I see before me, with terror in my mind's eye, the retrospect of the Nieuport-gate of Ostend, and all that you have told me thereof. So have pity upon our nerves and necks while pending in air, and depending upon you!"

The Reverend Doctor was now safely landed upon terra firma, and he in a subdued tone gave his hearty thanks and farewell to Mr. Phelim O'Neale, who prayed that the blessings of the poor and distressed might ever be showered upon, and protect the Reverend Chaplain.

Colonel Davidson's turn now came of being manumitted from the prison window, and while adjusting the linen cord to the lower fragment of the window bar—"Oh, Sir Soldier! how much you remind me of a print which I have seen at Tyrconnel Castle of the famous Hungry Kat, [Henri Quatré,] the famous king of France; and, och, long life to you, may you have, like him, an angel Gabriel [meaning Gabriella d'Estrees] for a wife; och, and your worthy honour, may she be as kind, and good, and true, as my own humble Justiné; and moreover, besides, may you have a whole house full of childer!"

Colonel Davidson, laughing, good humouredly protested against this part of the benison, as he smilingly observed, that if a soldier could manage his military baggage, he had enough to do, without being encumbered with live stock.

Our adventurers having all most kindly bade adieu to Mr. Phelim O'Neale, proceeded onwards, attended by their guide; and in about a quarter of an hour, or so, they came up with the attendant, who was in due waiting with the horses. Colonel Davidson most respectfully lifted up the Reverend Chaplain, now appropriately dressed in the assumed disguise, and who looked withal most right, grave, and matron-like, duly seated upon the pillion destined for the journey; and fully equipped as a livery servant the colonel mounted the saddle, and was followed by his attending servant disguised as a Flemish peasant, who most respectfully kept his distance in the rere, while the guide led on the van. And at a gentle and sober trot they proceeded for the Nieuport gate, where having arrived, and being challenged by the sentinel, and the guide giving the countersign, they were allowed to proceed; the draw-bridge was let down, and onward they wended their peaceful way. Mr. Phelim O'Neale, with his usual dexterity, had caused their horses to be shod with the shoes turned the contrary way, with the intent thereby to prevent pursuit; by thus puzzling the pursuers, if such should follow, that thus deceived by the shoe-track, they should be like hounds at fault, and thus in despair give over the pursuit.

Nieuport had been formerly only a hamlet, called Sandeshove, but upon the destruction of the neighbouring port of Lombarsyde, being choked up by the sands, a new port was constructed at Sandeshove, which caused the town to assume the name of Nieuport, (in Latin, Novus-portus, or Neoportum.) Lombarsyde, in consequence, was changed from a town into a village, and Nieuport from a village into a town. It is regularly fortified, distant about two leagues from Furnes,[20] three from Ostend, four from Dunkirk, and seven from Brugès and Ypres. The air of this town is so unhealthy that the garrison do not long remain without being relieved. It is remarkable that Nieuport is the only place throughout Flanders that has never been taken or retaken.—"Urbs intacta manet."

The weather proved somewhat unpropitious to our travellers, as several very heavy showers of rain fell during their route from Ostend to Nieuport, the weather in Flanders being generally moist. Doctor M'Kenzie fortunately recollected, during their progress on the road, that there was a convent of English Carthusians established at Nieuport. This body had been instituted in 1415, at Sheen, in England, by King Henry V.; but in consequence of the persecutions of Queen Elizabeth, they were compelled to depart their country; and having remained some time at Malines and at Brugès, they finally established themselves, anno salutis 1626, at Nieuport. The monastery was situated at the western extremity of the main street of the town, called Rue de Porte l'Orient. Dr. M'Kenzie had heard much praise bestowed upon the present learned and worthy abbot, Father Philip de Comines, he resolved therefore to make his way to the abbey, and consult with him upon the best mode of returning to his native land. Pursuant to this determination the wearied travellers now approached Nieuport, severely drenched by the showers which fell during their journey. The Reverend Gentleman threw off his female attire, and resumed his own, which was done at a house where they halted, and situated in the suburbs of the town, belonging to Malone, the friend of Mr. Phelim O'Neale, (to whom it may be recollected that the latter had addressed a few lines;) at the same time the colonel and his servant having also resumed their proper costume, forthwith attended Doctor M'Kenzie, who proceeded to the abbey,

——————"where the Reverend Abbot

With all his convent honourably received him."

And not only the Reverend Clerk, but Colonel Davidson and his servant likewise were hospitably received, and kindly entertained by the good-natured monks.

The next day Doctor M'Kenzie was so severely indisposed from the wetting which he received during his journey, that it was found necessary to call in medical aid. A slight fever seized him, which confined him for two weeks to his bed; and when he arose he found himself so weak and debilitated, that the physician strenuously recommended him to try the waters of Pyrmont so soon as he should be sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey. Finding his fellow-voyager and sufferer now somewhat recovered, Colonel Davidson prepared to take his departure, and having affectionately embraced the Rev. Gentleman, and cordially shaken hands with the good abbot and his hospitable brethren, the colonel, accompanied by his servant, proceeded to Dunkirk, where he safely arrived after a few hours travel, and from thence it was his intention to proceed for Holland by way of Rotterdam.

After a few weeks' sojourn at the Carthusian convent, where the Reverend Chaplain received every hospitality, kindness, and attention, that it was in the power of the reverend brotherhood to bestow, with many a kind valete et benedicite he departed, finding himself sufficiently strong to endure the fatigues of a land journey. The doctor set out for Westphalia to benefit his health by using the mineral waters of Pyrmont, and after several days, having travelled by slow stages, he safely reached his destination.