CHAPTER III.

EVENTS PRECEDING HOSTILITIES IN IRELAND.—THE PREPARATORY MEASURES OF TYRCONNELL.

Leaving William of Orange in undisputed possession of the English throne, and King James a suppliant at the French court for the support which he had so unwisely declined previous to the invasion, it is necessary to reconsider the condition of Ireland before presenting her part in this great politico-religious drama.

Of the three generations which had passed, antecedent to the events under consideration, each had witnessed a war more protracted and devastating than any which marked her history since the invasion. These were the wars of Desmond and Tyrone, and the war of the Irish Confederates of 1641; each of which was followed by a wholesale confiscation and plantation of the country with a population antagonistic to every interest of the native race. Through these violent changes four-fifths of the ancient chieftainries had changed proprietors, and those which were undisturbed by each successive military convulsion, the court of claims and the acts of attainder and settlement that continued down to the death of Charles II., had well-nigh sequestrated. The surface of the country is computed at ten millions and a half of acres; and of these, says Newenham, "Upon the final execution of the acts of settlement and explanation, it appears that 7,800,000 acres were set out by the court of claims, principally if not wholly, in the exclusion of the old Irish proprietors." It is scarce necessary to remark that if the above estimate of the island—which is taken from Dr. Petty's survey—includes the waste and water, the arable land had passed to the undertakers, and the waste and water were the portion of the old Irish proprietors.

The loss of liberty, too, had outstripped the loss of lands, for liberty and law had first to be silenced that these wholesale robberies might go unquestioned. Education had been proscribed, and ignorance had increased exceedingly. True, those of the "better sort" might have received an education at the hands of the Establishment, by forswearing their religious convictions and pandering to the spirit of the times, but the Catholic schools and colleges of the land had been suppressed; expatriation was the consequence of all attempts at the education of youth in the religious principles of their fathers, and death the penalty of return after banishment. Nearly all those who still retained any vestige of their patrimonial estates, had purchased them at the sacrifice of their religious convictions, and those who haply retained both, had done so through the friendly interference of some powerful minions of the English court, who were few and far between. There were still a few other exceptions to this general rule, which deserve a casual notice. The descendants of the early settlers of the Pale, though still adhering to the Catholic faith, had been held by the English Government as a distinct element from the native race. On questions pertaining to the English tenure of the island they had antagonistic interests. Through each successive convulsion they had been treated with greater leniency, and had received much more consideration on the adjustment and final settlement. Their condition was, therefore, less intolerable than that of the native chiefs; they had privileges without rights, while the latter had neither rights nor privileges. But then there was a counterbalancing influence; the native gentry had local popularity; while the Palesmen had Government consideration;—both felt their religious grievances in common, and between them there was a mutual forbearance, and an exchange of kindly offices.

Such was the condition of the descendants of the Normans, and of the fast waning septs of the ancient race; but, the people!—they had no consideration, national nor local; no protection but their poverty and their native tongue: no right but that of animal existence, and that only on sufferance! Yet, through all, they had retained the noblest characteristics of manhood; tenacious memory, stubborn will, unselfish love of country, unshaken fidelity to their faith; and who could doubt that they would now—true to their instincts—be the last refuge of a just king in adversity.

When James ascended the throne, on the 16th of February, 1685, the Earl of Ormond was deputy for Ireland. He had taken a leading part in the most exciting scenes of the last fifty years. Gifted with the highest graces of mind and person, he had figured, in early life, as one of the most important personages of the English court, and had won the highest favors of Charles I., and his queen, Henrietta. His powers of diplomacy and statesmanship were kept in continual exercise during the latter years of that reign; but though gifted with talents to excel in each, in each he was signally unsuccessful; and all the evils that befell that king and eventuated in the extinction of his house, may be fairly traced to the one leading passion of Ormond,—an implacable hatred of the Irish Catholics. It would seem as if all the enmity of all the reformers, from Elizabeth to Cromwell, had in him found an exponent, and in directing his deadly malice against them, he was over-successful: he accomplished their ruin, but virtually consigned his patron and sovereign to the scaffold.

His after life was ignoble and inglorious. He became prodigal of honor, tenacious of power, and served as trimmer and timeserver in turn, to Royalists and Parliamentarians alike. But whether in the service of his king or in complicity with his enemies, he held his political principles subservient to his worldly interest, and was consistent only in one passion, his religious intolerance. The character of this statesman had become odious to James long before his accession to the throne; and believing that no wholesome measures of redress could be introduced into Ireland, while one so notorious for his duplicity and hatred of its people remained at the head of affairs, he lost no time in recalling him. He then deputed the government to two Lords-Justices: Boyle, the Protestant primate, and Forbes, Earl of Granard, each of whom had attained a high degree of popularity with the people of all religious denominations. He had reason to believe that these appointments would be received in the spirit which dictated them, and prove a measure of general satisfaction. Upon the Catholic population it had the desired effect; but with the High Church party and the Nonconformists it was quite different. The hatred and jealousy that existed between them was only secondary to their mutual hatred of the Catholics, and these appointments kindled anew the ire of each party against the other. The Puritans were dissatisfied with Boyle, alleging that his Protestantism savored of "Popery;" and the Churchmen averred that Granard was a favorer of the sectaries, and an enemy to the "Establishment."

In order to harmonize all interests and carry out his measures of redress, James sent over the Earl of Clarendon as deputy, and with him Colonel Richard Talbot, an Irishman and a Catholic, as Lieutenant-General of the militia. But whether it was that Clarendon was opposed to the policy of the king, or that he felt unable to give effect to his measures of redress in a country so divided in sentiment, he retired shortly after, and Talbot was created Earl of Tyrconnell and appointed deputy in his stead. In Tyrconnell were then united the civil and military power, and of all the king's subjects who at that time accorded with his religious and political views, there could scarcely be chosen one better adapted to give practical effect to the reforms which he had extended to Ireland.

Richard Talbot, Earl, and afterwards Duke of Tyrconnell, is one of the noblest characters in Irish history. He was a loyal subject of the king, whom he served with characteristic loyalty, and though of Norman descent, he was as national in heart as the most devoted of the native race. Of noble presence,5 courtly manners, untarnished honor, unshrinking courage, indomitable will, and fervid patriotism, he was old enough to remember the Revolution of 1641, had been a sympathetic observer of the sufferings that succeeded, and all the energies of his mind, from his first introduction to royal favor to the end of his career, were directed to effect the civil and religious liberty of his country. Had James been a timeserving king, from Tyrconnell he would have received no adulation; as he was sincere and steadfast in his pledges to the Catholics, Tyrconnell was his devoted servant. As deputy and commander-in-chief, his powers for good were more than ordinary, and he stretched them to the utmost tension that justice permitted. His task was delicate and dangerous; but he discarded the delicacy and braved the danger, as though he alone felt the awakened energy of a whole people. Imprudent they term him; but looking through his chequered life, and reviewing the scenes he had witnessed in youth, we cannot acquiesce in the decision. The circumstances by which he was surrounded brooked no delay, and what is termed imprudence by our recent annalists, would, if viewed in the light of his time, appear the wisest statesmanship; and it must be generally conceded, that if the king was as bold and intrepid as Tyrconnell, the usurpation of William would have been as abortive as that of Monmouth.

I have turned aside from the course of direct narrative to dedicate a page to the memory of this much-maligned statesman. It is deemed a duty obligatory, because there is a tendency, even among Irish nationalists, to offer him as a sacrifice on the altar of conciliation. Truth may be unpalatable, but it is always wholesome, and without due reverence for it, there will be no incentive to do and suffer for noble ends. The religious martyr finds his reward above, but the patriot's reward is the blessing of posterity, and history should never divert a people's heart from those who labored for their good, albeit their efforts were unsuccessful. Richard Talbot, Duke of Tyrconnell, is a name to be on the tongue of every Irish child, and his deeds a memory in the heart of every Irish patriot. He survived the battle of Aughrim, at which he was present, but a short time; and he should have died there, and gone to rest on that mournfully historic field, where rest some of the best and bravest that Ireland ever nurtured on her bosom. His character would then be complete. He labored for them through life; they were worthy of his companionship in death.

Of the parliament which he assembled in Dublin, after the removal of religious disabilities, the majority in the lower house were of the Catholic faith, and as the measures which were introduced during that session afford ample testimony that they were keenly alive to the higher duties of legislation, a brief outline of them is here submitted in the order of their political importance:

First.—An act removing all political disabilities from the natives of Ireland.

Second.—An act against removing writs of error from the Irish to the English courts.

Third.—An act of indemnity to Catholics who had been declared innocent by the Court of Claims.

Fourth.—An act to encourage strangers to settle and plant in the kingdom of Ireland.

Fifth.—An act investing in his majesty the goods of absentees.

Sixth.—An act for the advancement and improvement of trade, and the encouragement of ship-building.

Seventh.—An act declaring that the Parliament of England cannot bind Ireland.

The last was a virtual repeal of "Poyning's Law," an act passed during the reign of Henry VII. in a parliament convoked at Drogheda by Sir Edward Poyning, in 1494, and which provided "that no parliament could be held in Ireland until the chief governor and council had first certified to the king under the great seal of the land, as well the causes and considerations, as the acts designed to pass, and until the same should be approved by the king and council of England."

All these acts were known to be so just and salutary, that it was hoped they would at once meet the unanimous approval of the English king and his council. But they were all, or nearly all, negatived by the council; and the king himself, though he gave his assent to all the others, rejected that repealing the law of Poyning. It had met with great opposition in the upper house of the Irish Parliament, for though it was a law which placed Ireland under the complete legislative control of England, there was in the "higher estate" then, as to-day, a spirit of subserviency to the English interest, and the king was as jealous of his royal prerogatives as any of his predecessors. But this act was afterwards repealed, when nearly one hundred years more of bitter experience had proved its ruinous effect on the country, and eighteen years of unparalleled prosperity was the consequence. This subject is, however, out of the course of our narrative, and is only referred to as showing that the repeal of Poyning's law did not originate with Grattan or the volunteers of 1782, but had been the principal object of the statesmen of ante-Jacobite times, as the repeal of the union has been in our own days.

No body of legislators ever understood the wants of a country better than that parliament did the necessities of Ireland. And well might they understand them, for their impoverished country and broken fortunes bore striking and melancholy evidence of the evil effects of foreign legislation aided by a subsidized native oligarchy inimical to every interest but their own. For three generations the people had known no respite from robbery and proscription. Over two hundred thousand of them had passed into exile, or had been consigned to penal servitude in the colonies within the last fifty years. Then, as to-day, the population, though small, was deemed "surplus," while outlawry and banishment suppressed all manifestations of a national spirit. The chiefs were detached from their clans, and the clans, in losing their former protectors, had found but deadly enemies in their new taskmasters. The old feudal system was nearly extinct, even in the districts least visited by English adventure, and this Parliament had realized the stern necessity of reconstructing a nation out of the elements at its disposal. The troubles that surrounded the king gave it a temporary power, which it wielded for the removal of grievances becoming chronic in the land, but "no act of a proscriptive or retaliatory character stains the parliamentary records of that period."6

Measures of redress now followed in quick succession. Political and religious disabilities were removed from all denominations, without distinction; and the people were not slow in availing themselves of their long-lost privileges. Catholic churches were once more opened to the service of God, and local schools began to appear throughout the country. Catholic judges, mayors, and sheriffs took their places wherever opportunity offered, and the people felt a gratification corresponding to their altered condition. But, throughout all, they acted with a forbearance and dignity worthy of a people long tried in adversity; they expressed no exultation at their sudden emancipation, and no spirit of retaliation was manifested that might give alarm to their Protestant countrymen.

The Protestant officials of that day, who held the liberty of the country, as it were, in lien, threw many obstructions in the way of these reforms. Among the foremost of these were Topham and Coghill, masters-in-chancery, and the Chancellor himself, and they were removed for open contumacy, and on what then appeared "good and sufficient reasons,"—throwing the legal technicalities of an odious system in the way of a people's emancipation from the penal servitude of ages.

Early in 1686, Tyrconnell issued a proclamation in accordance with that of the king, that all classes of his majesty's subjects were allowed to serve in the army, accompanied by an order that the arms which had hitherto been given out should be returned to the king's stores, preparatory to a reorganization of the militia. The militia of the country, which at that time must have numbered about 20,000, were exclusively Protestant, and were officered by men of the most proscriptive tendencies, and apart from those regularly enrolled, the whole Protestant population were under arms, subject to the call of local leaders at a moment's notice. Being, almost to a man, opposed to the measures of Catholic redress then being instituted by the king, would appear sufficient motive for this action on the part of the deputy. For the last generation they had been the rigorous executors of the acts of attainder and settlement; the memories they awakened could scarcely be conducive to good order or a feeling of public security: not being national, they were regarded with distrust, and were held as unsafe guardians of the liberty which they openly denounced. Many of their leaders were known to be implicated in Monmouth's rebellion, and as a precautionary measure, it became necessary to infuse a spirit of loyalty among them by the introduction of a Catholic element. To accomplish this seems to have been the great trouble of the deputy. Men there were, to any number, ready at his call, but arms were wanting, and the revenue of the country was scarce sufficient to defray the expenses of the civil government. There was, therefore, no other resource but to call in the arms for a redistribution, and to organize a body of native troops from whom exclusion would be excluded. This measure created great alarm, among a party who had been so long dominant; and, if in its accomplishment, any denomination were excluded who felt a liberal sentiment towards the great body of the people, there would have been cause for just apprehension, but such does not appear on the record of the period. All test oaths were abolished according to the proclamation of the king, and all denominations, without distinction, were invited to join the new organization. The Catholic people responded with promptitude and alacrity, and an army of about 8,000 men, was soon enrolled from the old royalist corps scattered through the country; a few regiments more sprang up from the remnants of the native clans, and with these the deputy felt able to execute the laws, and garrison a few of the most important military stations in the kingdom.

On the other hand, the Protestant militia, feeling jealous that men so long outside the pale of all law, should at once be endowed with the high privilege of freemen, shunned the organizations, and many of their prominent officers, retiring to Holland, took service under the Prince of Orange, then conspiring for the overthrow of their rightful sovereign.

In this age and clime, such intolerance may seem greatly exaggerated, if not altogether incredible. But stepping down through the successive changes of ninety years, we find that the Volunteers of 1782, with the light of the American Revolution before them, were quite as exclusive. Up to the day when, on Essex-Bridge, the regiment of Lord Altamont held its way through the ranks of his Britannic majesty,7 and a revolution appeared imminent, the proposition to allow Catholics to bear arms in the native militia, even as private soldiers, had been scouted with contempt. The provisions of Catholic Emancipation are not yet accepted there, for we have seen the "Test Act" revived as late as 1864, in Dublin, to the exclusion of a Catholic alderman. Before such evidences, doubt vanishes, and we are able to appreciate the position of Tyrconnell, and the necessity for intrepid action in the premises. No man had a greater share of praise and censure from contemporary historians than he, and he is still a subject of each as the minds of men incline to either side in the issues that then distracted the country. His precipitancy in removing the restraints on religion, and in giving too active an impulse to the popular will, has come in for its share of condemnation. He is also criticized for a too pompous display of his dual power, as Viceroy and Commander-in-Chief: but we should remember that they who censure his hasty measures of redress, are those who persistently oppose all redress; that his manner of life as Viceroy was simple and unostentatious as compared with that of his successors in office, and that his dual power was conferred on him, when the king's brother-in-law, Clarendon, had deserted him, and there was no other man capable and at the same time willing to assume that critical position.

Tyrconnell, however, was not a man to be diverted from his purpose by either threat or criticism, and so he pursued his course unshrinking. His country demanded redress and he hearkened to her call. The emancipation of his co-religionists was necessary, and he endeavored to effect it: but in doing so he infringed no civil or religious right of others: none were denied equality before the law, and none were removed from office except for open contumacy or covert treason. No doubt he had to brave obloquy and opposition; but who could serve that country and that king at that particular crisis, and escape the shafts of malignity?

In the summer of 1688, when the conspiracy of the Prince of Orange became known to Tyrconnell, in the manner already indicated, he lost no time in communicating his intelligence to the king. It was received with incredulity, for the evil counsel of Earl Sunderland still held sway over every other representation. How could he believe that his affectionate son-in-law, who had made him a prompt tender of military assistance to suppress the rebellion of Monmouth, could have been prompted by any but the most honorable and filial motives? Had he not offered to lead his forces in person, and to protect the capital and the inmates of the royal palace?

But the urgency of the occasion emboldened Tyrconnell, and he at last succeeded in arousing the king's suspicions. He urged the necessity of an immediate alliance with France, and though in this he was not able to move the fixed impression left by the wily secretary, he prevailed so far on the king as to accept the greater part of the forces he had raised for the protection of Ireland; and so they were immediately sent over and placed at the royal service.

Tyrconnell then formed the bold design, without the knowledge of the king, of placing Ireland under the protection of France. The proposition was well received by Louis, but events culminated with such rapidity during the autumn of 1688, that no time was left for diplomacy, for it required the undivided attention of Tyrconnell to repress the spirit of disaffection throughout Ulster as the winter approached. The leaders of the Protestant party in Ireland were alive to all that was taking place, and premonitory symptoms of open revolt were apparent to all. In Ulster, Lord Blaney, Rawdon, Skeffington, Keames, Kelso, and Walker, who had kept a close correspondence with the Prince of Orange since the death of Monmouth, sounded the alarm, and called their followers to arms. Every action or word of the deputy was seized on to excite the passions and fears of their people, and every counter-effort on his part to allay the growing excitement was futile. The time was propitious, and they seized on every event to magnify their danger. The alarm became wide-spread, and the old hatred that so often left the country a prey to foreign adventure was revived in all its bitterness. Fanaticism overruled common sense, and the people were divided.

A report was industriously circulated that a massacre of the entire Protestant population of the country was arranged for the 9th of December, with a minuteness of detail that convinced the most incredulous. This was about the date that was to usher in the Prince of Orange. The conspirators knew it, but the people were ignorant. The utmost consternation prevailed; the Protestant people in considerable numbers abandoned their homes, flocked to the sea-shore, and stowing themselves away in the hold of every available craft that presented, passed over to England, while the boldest of them fled to the North to join the standard of William's adherents. Those who reached England awakened the liveliest sympathy for the condition of their Irish brethren, and the most bitter indignation against "the murdering Irish." The arrival of William at Whitehall was the signal for a general onslaught on the English Catholics, and the Irish residents there had to take refuge in immediate flight. The regiments imprudently sent there at the suggestion of Tyrconnell, being placed in small detachments throughout the country, were forced into the usurper's service, or, trying to make their way home, were set upon in detail, and slaughtered mercilessly in the streets and by-ways wherever they passed. Some few fought or forced their way to the seaboard, and through the kindly offices of the English Jacobites, made their way back in the most wretched condition.8

The news of William's arrival soon spread throughout Ireland and Scotland. In the former country this event had been anticipated: the people had already arrayed themselves into two parties known through succeeding times as Williamites and Jacobites. In the latter a convention was called, and after much angry opposition, the covenanters declared that James's flight was a virtual abdication, and that he had consequently "forefaulted" his right to the throne and the allegiance of his subjects of Scotland, which they tendered to William. A respectable portion, however, headed by the Archbishop of Glasgow, the Duke of Gordon, the Earl of Balcarras, and Graham of Claverhouse (Viscount Dundee) supported the Jacobite cause and took up arms in defence of their lawful king.

On the 7th of December the gates of Derry were closed against the Earl of Antrim's regiment of Highlanders sent thither by Tyrconnell on the invitation of its governor, and the call to arms was sounded through all the province of Ulster. Blaney, Walker, Keames, Kelso, Skeffington, and Rawdon called a convention, and assuming their right to dispose of the country, tendered its allegiance to William. They then entered into a league "for the maintenance of the Protestant religion and the dependency of Ireland upon England," and placed themselves at the head of the military organizations formed throughout the province: and Enniskillen, Culmore, Sligo, Coleraine—nearly all the important posts from Down to Donegal, and from Cavan to Antrim—were seized on and garrisoned in the name of the Prince of Orange.

It is scarcely necessary to say, that the 9th of December came and passed without any manifestation of that murderous design attributed to the Catholics. The conspiracy was on the other side, and manifested itself in the following manner. Major Poor, who had served in a dragoon regiment under Cromwell, had got the command of two companies of cavalry, from "The League." With this force he commenced a series of raids on the inhabitants of Louth, and levied a tax of ￡500 on the tenantry of Lord Bellew. Hearing of this, Bellew sent his son, a youth of eighteen, with a company of dragoons, to assist the farmers in resisting the tax. These troops met and fought for some time with the most determined bravery, until Bellew, closing with the Major, killed him with a blow of his pistol on the head, when the troops of the Major took flight, leaving their dead and wounded behind them. This was the first act of open hostility: it aroused the Catholic people to the necessity of defensive measures, and quickened that martial spirit, never extinguished; their hearts responded to the war-note of the times; but what could the spirit do, but chafe at delay? Their country was impoverished, and they had neither arms nor organization.