XII.

midable enemy of France would become her firmest ally, that CHAP.
William would sink into insignificance, and that the Euro-
pean coalition of which he was the chief would be dissolved.
But what chance was there of such a counterrevolution? The
English exiles indeed, after the fashion of exiles, confidently
anticipated a speedy return to their country. James himself
loudly boasted that his subjects on the other side of the water,
though they had been misled for a moment by the specious
names of religion, liberty, and property, were warmly at-
tached to him, and would rally round him as soon as he
appeared among them. But the wary envoy tried in vain to
discover any foundation for these hopes. He could not find
that they were warranted by any intelligence which had
arrived from any part of Great Britain; and he was inclined
to consider them as the mere daydreams of a feeble mind.
He thought it unlikely that the usurper, whose ability and
resolution he had, during an unintermitted conflict of ten
years, learned to appreciate, would easily part with the great
prize which had been won by such strenuous exertions and
profound combinations. It was therefore necessary to con-
sider what arrangements would be most beneficial to France,
on the supposition that it proved impossible to dislodge Wil-
liam from England. And it was evident that, if William
could not be dislodged from England, the arrangement most
beneficial to France would be that which had been contem-
plated eighteen months before when James had no prospect
of a male heir. Ireland must be severed from the English
crown, purged of the English colonists, reunited to the Church
of Rome, placed under the protection of the House of Bour-
bon, and made, in everything but name, a French province.
In war, her resources would be absolutely at the command of
her Lord Paramount. She would furnish his army with re-
cruits. She would furnish his navy with fine harbours com-
manding all the great-western outlets of the English trade.
The strong national and religious antipathy with which her
aboriginal population regarded the inhabitants of the neigh-
bouring island would be a sufficient guarantee for their
fidelity to that government which could alone protect her
against the Saxon.

On the whole, therefore, it appeared to Avaux that, of the
two parties into which the Council at Dublin was divided, the
Irish party was that which it was at present for the interest
of France to support. He accordingly connected himself

XII.

CHAP. closely with the chiefs of that party, obtained from them the fullest avowals of all that they designed, and was soon able to report to his government that neither the gentry nor the common people were at all unwilling to become French.*

The views of Louvois, incomparably the greatest statesman that France had produced since Richelieu, seem to have entirely agreed with those of Avaux. The best thing, Louvois wrote, that King James could do would be to forget that he had reigned in Great Britain, and to think only of putting Ireland into a good condition, and of establishing himself firmly there. Whether this were the true interest of the House of Stuart may be doubted. But it was undoubtedly the true interest of the House of Bourbon.t

About the Scotch and English exiles, and especially about. Melfort, Avaux constantly expressed himself with an asperity hardly to have been expected from a man of so much sense and so much knowledge of the world. Melfort was in a singularly unfortunate position. He was a renegade: he was a mortal enemy of the liberties of his country: he was of a bad and tyrannical nature; and yet he was, in some sense, a patriot. The consequence was that he was more universally detested than any man of his time. For, while his apostasy and his arbitrary maxims of government made him the abhorrence of England and Scotland, his anxiety for the dig nity and integrity of the empire made him the abhorrence of the Irish and of the French.

The first question to be decided was whether James should remain at Dublin, or should put himself at the head of his army in Ulster. On this question the Irish and British fac tions joined battle. Reasons of no great weight were adduced on both sides; for neither party ventured to speak out. The point really in issue was whether the King should be in Irish or in British hands. If he remained at Dublin, it would be scarcely possible for him to withhold his assent from any bill presented to him by the Parliament which he had summoned to meet there. He would be forced to plunder, perhaps to attaint, innocent Protestant gentlemen and clergymen by hundreds; and he would thus do irreparable mischief to his

* Avaux,

March 25.

April 4. 1689, April 13. But it is less from any single letter, than from the whole tendency and spirit of the correspondence of Avaux, that I have formed my notion of his objects.

"Il faut donc, oubliant qu'il a est Roy d'Angleterre et d'Escosse, ne pers qu'à ce qui peut bonifier l'Irlande, et faciliter les moyens d'y subsister."Louvois to Avaux, June. 1689.

cause on the other side of Saint George's Channel. If he repaired to Ulster, he would be within a few hours' sail of Great Britain. As soon as Londonderry had fallen, and it was universally supposed that the fall of Londonderry could not be long delayed, he might cross the sea with part of his forces, and land in Scotland, where his friends were supposed to be numerous. When he was once on British ground, and in the midst of British adherents, it would no longer be in the power of the Irish to extort his consent to their schemes of spoliation and revenge.

CHAP.

XII.

to go to

The discussions in the Council were long and warm. James deTyrconnel, who had just been created a Duke, advised his termines master to stay at Dublin. Melfort exhorted His Majesty to Ulster. set out for Ulster. Avaux exerted all his influence in support of Tyrconnel; but James, whose personal inclinations were naturally on the British side of the question, determined to follow the advice of Melfort.* Avaux was deeply mortified. In his official letters he expressed with great acrimony his contempt for the King's character and understanding. On Tyrconnel, who had said that he despaired of the fortunes of James, and that the real question was between the King of France and the Prince of Orange, the ambassador pronounced what was meant to be a warm eulogy, but may perhaps be more properly called an invective. "If he were a born Frenchman, he could not be more zealous for the interests of France." The conduct of Melfort, on the other hand, was the subject of an invective which much resembles eulogy: "He is neither a good Irishman nor a good Frenchman. All his affections are set on his own country."‡

Since the King was determined to go northward, Avaux did not choose to be left behind. The royal party set out, leaving Tyrconnel in charge at Dublin, and arrived at Charlemont on the thirteenth of April. The journey was a strange one. The country all along the road had been completely deserted by the industrious population, and laid waste by bands of robbers. "This," said one of the French officers, "is like travelling through the deserts of Arabia."§ Whatever effects the colonists had been able to remove were at Londonderry or Enniskillen. The rest had been stolen or destroyed. Avaux informed his Court that he had not been

Journey of
Ulster.

James to

CHAP.
XII.

able to get one truss of hay for his horses without sending
five or six miles. No labourer dared bring anything for sale
lest some marauder should lay hands on it by the way. The
ambassador was put one night into a miserable taproom full
of soldiers smoking, another night into a dismantled house
without windows or shutters to keep out the rain. At Charle-
mont, a bag of oatmeal was, with great difficulty, and as a
matter of favour, procured for the French legation. There
was no wheaten bread except at the table of the King, who |
had brought a little flour from Dublin, and to whom Avaux
had lent a servant who knew how to bake. Those who were
honoured with an invitation to the royal table had their bread
and wine measured out to them. Everybody else, however
high in rank, ate horsecorn, and drank water or detestable
beer, made with oats instead of barley, and flavoured with
some nameless herb as a substitute for hops.*
Yet report
said that the country between Charlemont and Strabane was
even more desolate than the country between Dublin and
Charlemont. It was impossible to carry a large stock of pro-
visions. The roads were so bad, and the horses so weak, that
the baggage waggons had all been left far behind. The chief
officers of the army were consequently in want of necessaries;
and the ill humour which was the natural effect of these
privations was increased by the insensibility of James, who
seemed not to be aware that everybody about him was not
perfectly comfortable.+

On the fourteenth of April the King and his train proceeded to Omagh. The rain fell: the wind blew the horses could scarcely make their way through the mud, and in the face of the storm; and the road was frequently intersected by torrents which might almost be called rivers. The travellers had to pass several fords where the water was breast high. Some of the party fainted from fatigue and hunger. All around lay a frightful wilderness. In a journey of forty miles Avaux counted only three miserable cabins. Every thing else was rock, bog, and moor. When at length the travellers reached Omagh, they found it in ruins. The Pro testants, who were the majority of the inhabitants, had abandoned it, leaving not a wisp of straw nor a cask of liquor. The windows had been broken: the chimneys ha

*This lamentable account of the Irish beer is taken from a despatch which Desgrigny wrote from Cork to Louvois,

and which is in the archives of the French War Office.

† Avaux, April 1689; April

been beaten in: the very locks and bolts of the doors had been carried away.*

Avaux had never ceased to press the King to return to Dublin: but these expostulations had hitherto produced no effect. The obstinacy of James, however, was an obstinacy which had nothing in common with manly resolution, and which, though proof to argument, was easily shaken by caprice. He received at Omagh, early on the sixteenth of April, letters which alarmed him. He learned that a strong body of Protestants was in arms at Strabane, and that English ships of war had been seen near the mouth of Lough Foyle. In one minute three messages were sent to summon Avaux to the ruinous chamber in which the royal bed had been prepared. There James, half dressed, and with the air of a man bewildered by some great shock, announced his resolution to hasten back instantly to Dublin. Avaux listened, wondered, and approved. Melfort seemed prostrated by despair. The travellers retraced their steps, and, late in the evening, got back to Charlemont. There the King received despatches very different from those which had terrified him a few hours before. The Protestants who had assembled near Strabane had been attacked by Hamilton. Under a truehearted leader they would doubtless have stood their ground. But Lundy, who commanded them, had told them that all was lost, had ordered them to shift for themselves, and had set them the example of flight. They had accordingly retired in confusion to Londonderry. The King's correspondents pronounced it to be impossible that Londonderry should hold out. His Majesty had only to appear before the gates; and they would instantly fly open. James now changed his mind again, blamed himself for having been persuaded to turn his face southward, and, though it was late in the evening, called for his horses. The horses were in miserable plight; but, weary and half starved as they were, they were saddled. Melfort, completely victorious, carried off his master to the camp. Avaux, after remonstrating to no purpose, declared that he was resolved to return to Dublin. It may be suspected that the extreme discomfort which he had undergone had something to do with this resolution. For complaints of that discomfort make up a

* Avaux to Lewis, April 15. 1689, and + Commons' Journals, Aug. 12. 1689 to Louvois, of the same date. Mackenzie's Narrative.

CHAP.

XII.