A Man's Foes

Front matter

A MAN'S FOES, " No Surrender ! ' A Man's Foes.] [Page 293. BY E. H. STRAIN. " A man's foes shall be they of his own household." WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. FORESTIER. LONDON : WARD, LOCK & BOWDEN, LIMITED, WARWICK HOUSE, SALISBURY SQUARE, E.C. NEW YOK_- AMI MELBOURNE. I8g6. [AU rights reserved.] First Edition, 3 vols., crown 8vo. ... September, 1895. Re-printed October, 1895. Special Colonial Edition, October, 1895. Popular Edition, 1 vol., illustrated ... April, i8g5. PEEFACE. The main facts upon which this tale is founded are sufficiently well known ; and the writer has spared no pains to ensure truth in the details, so far as careful research and comparison of authorities enable one to arrive at it. Needless to say, there are many conflicting statements and opinions to harmonise ; but about the hardships and privations endured in Derry during the siege of 1689 all the authorities are agreed ; as well as about the splendid gallantry and constancy with which both citizens and garrison behaved throughout that trying time.

The writer may say with confidence that these are in no way overcharged. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. BEGINNING, IETSH FASHION, AT THE END OF THE STORY ...... 1 n. HOW THE LORD VISCOUNT MOUNTJOY LAY AT CLONCALLY ON HIS WAY TO DUBLIN . . 14 DI. HOW THE LOED VISCOUNT EH) AWAY FROM CLONCALLY, LEAVING AN ANXIOUS HEART BEHIND HIM . . . . . .36 IV. WHEREIN TWO IRISH BLACKGUARDS, A GEEAT AND A SMALL, MAKE THEIE APPEAEANCE IN CLONCALLY . 47 V. IN WHICH THE SITUATION IS EEGAEDED FROM TWO SEVERAL POINTS OF VIEW . . .55 VI. A QUARREL AND AN ARREST . . .67 VII. HOW ONE MADE HIS ESCAPE FROM CLONCALLY, THOUGH HIS GAOLER SAT AWAKE AND SAW HIM . 75 CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE Vin. HOW THERE CAME A MESSAGE OUT OF DERRY TO MRS. HAMILTON . . . . .88 IX. HOW ANOTHER AND A LESS WELCOME MESSENGER CAME TO CLONCALLY OUT OF DERRY . .95 X. O SANCTA SIMPLICITAS ! . . . . 106 XI.

HOW THERE CAME NEWS TO CLONCALLY OF THAT WHICH MIGHT HAVE BEEN A MASSACEE . .116 XII. HOW THE MESSENGEE FROM NEWTOWN GOT NO FURTHER BACK THAN TO CLONCALLY . . . .130 XIII. HOW THOSE AT CLONCALLY WERE TERRIFIED BY THE CHALLENGE OF A FRIEND. . . . 138 XIV. HOW A PARTY EH) OUT OF CLONCALLY AND BID STEAIGHT BACK AGAIN . . . .151 XV. HOW LOED ANTRIM HIMSELF AND HIS STAFF CAME TO CLONCALLY . . . . .160 XVI. HOW IT WAS EESOLVED TO QUIT CLONCALLY FOE DEEEY ...... 174 XVH. HOW ONE OF US EEFUSED TO QUIT CLONCALLY . 183 XVin. HOW THE LOED VISCOUNT MOUNTJOY CAME BACK TO CLONCALLY . , , , .191 CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE XIX. AFFAIES IN DERRY .... 203 XX. THE ANTRIM ASSOCIATION , . .215 XXI. TELLS HOW MRS. HAMILTON AND OTHERS RE CEIVED HAPPY NEWS AND HARSH REBUKES . 224 XXH. A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT. . . . 232 XXin.

Chapter I. Beginning, Irish Fashion, At The End Of The Stop

Y. STRANGE and very strange it is to reflect upon the changes that one year, one very short year with twelve little months in it, may bring forth. A foam-bell on a stormy sea, were it endowed with sense and memory, might have some such ex periences as ours to recall at the end of its day of life. Now on the crest of the wave, now in the trough ; now sliding up the slope of the tossing water, now sliding down ; now sparkling in a flying ray of sunshine, now dark in the sudden gloom ; whelmed under the plunging wave one moment, the next slipping into the free light once more, and in the next after that whirled, perhaps, clean into the air by the wind. The likeness is apt enough between such an existence as this and the hfe we have been leading for the last twelve months. A year ; and that of the shortest, as it seems when I look back upon it ; and yet what long days have been therein — days that seemed to hold months of ordinary life ; yes, and that will count for more in our lives than months of ordinary life.

Perhaps it needed more than the strength that will carry one through months of quietness to hve through one such day ; perhaps our lives have been shortened by just so much. And yet, could the choice be allowed one, to have been in the thick of the fight or quite out of it — a foam-bell on the crest of the wave, or a foam-bell on the eddy of a sheltered brook, where hardly even the sound of the storm can reach it — would one choose the calm ? I would not, woman though I be ; for such days as these were filled — ay, to overflowing — with real hfe ; it was worth living to have the chance of such. And that which hath been done is worth the casting away of a dozen lives, if one had them ; how mean and inglorious seems the common round of daily business after the fate of a nation hath hung upon our actions 1 And yet how sweet and gracious is the orderly succession of daily duties, tame and trivial though they be.

It doth seem to me that I never so much enjoyed the rarest junketing and holiday-making before our troubles, as I now do the ordering of my family and the arranging of my house. Interruption and derangement do give a new zest to everyday interests, that is certain ; as that httle foam-bell might be figured, after its day of storm, to find blessed rest in the calm that had only wearied it before. I said something hke this to Margery, my maid, who came into my chamber as I sat with paper and ink before me, ready to begin to write. " Our storm left much wreckage behind it, and caused much devastation," said I. " But the wreckage is well-nigh cleared away, and soon the havoc will all be repaired. Even the very gray hairs, which you were so grieved to see in my head, wfll soon disappear, I think."

I spoke something gaily, for Margery doth keep so grave a face that I am sorry for her ; nor doth it indicate a right sense of all the mercies of Providence towards us. If we have suffered, have we not been richly repaid ? She came up to me before she answered, and pushed back my hair, looking to see if that which I had said were true. ' ' I should not wonder, madam, ' ' said she. ' ' Peace and happiness work wonders." "Peace and happiness would almost seem to make the years run backwards, wouldn't they ? " said I. " What haggard old, grief-stricken creatures we seemed, both you and I, when we came back to CloncaUy three months ago ! And yet now, though no doubt we have lost much that we shall never regain, we don't seem to have lost our youth, after all ; for that is coming back to us." " You may get back your round cheeks and your pretty colour, madam," said Margery ; " and even your hair may come back to what it was — who knows ? but your eyes will never be what they were — never.

They used to sparkle Uke the sun on the lough," said this foolish woman, who used to think far too highly of my looks, and now doth think far too highly of me. " And now," says she, " they're not the eyes of a young woman at aU." " What," said I, " are they so spoilt as that? " And being, I fear, for aU we have come through, but a vain woman stiU, I bade her give me from my table a little mirror, that I might look at them. Then I said : "I don't think they look so wonderfuUy old, Margery, after aU. I believe they could sparkle yet, if ye were to try a bit of flattery." For I wanted to get a smile from her. "Ah, they're a bit sunken," said she; "but it's not that. 'Tis the years that are to come that one can see in them, more than the years that are past ! There's a look in them now," says she, beginning to shed tears, " that I'U know you by in heaven, when I see you there ; faith, madam, 'tis not age you have in your eyes, but immortality."

"There, there, now, Margery! you've fairly beat yourself at praising me," said I, trying to make a joke of it, but 'twas of no use. She cried, and I cried too — partly from sympathy, and partly because even my waiting-woman, with aU her partiality, could not help showing me that mine eyes were no longer as pretty as they once were. " In truth," I said through the shower, " our immortality was very near us in those last days of the siege, wasn't it ? Our hearts were so fuU of it that we could not keep it aU out of our faces; though death," said I by an afterthought, "put his sign manual there as weU, to witness his prior claim." " 'Twas the thing that kept us Uving, the thought of our immortality," said Margery. " And it was pretty near aU we had to live on ! " I could not help rejoining, though I know that Margery hates flippancy.

She is no longer like a servant to me ; nor was she formerly a mere ordinary servant, being a connection, though a poor and very dis tant one, of my husband's fanhly. But when mistress and maid have passed together through such perils and privations as have happened to us, there is thenceforward a bond of friendship between them, as weU as of service rendered and received. There fore I drew Margery's face down to mine and gave her a little kiss of peace before I sent her out of my chamber, to give me soUtude for my writing. It hath ever been a tendency of mine to give to serious matters a streak, as it were, of a smfle ; and whether it be innocent and rather praiseworthy than evil (as making them bear less heavily on the spirits), or altogether a snare, I have never been able rightly to make up my mind.

But even in the depths of our troubles there were times when I could not quite govern my tongue into seriousness ; but now and then a saying that had the savour of a jest would escape me in my own despite. At the first, when we came back into this our house at Clon caUy, and were here established, I was aU eagerness to begin the writing down of my remembrances ; yet now there have passed nigh upon three months, and to-night is the first time that I have taken pen in hand for that purpose. To be sure, there hath been much to see to, much to set in order ; for our house, though it was not altogether dismantled, like so many that neighbour it, had yet suffered severely by the occupation of the enemy, having had a garrison of them posted therein. And what such house keepers as these were like to make of their abode, sure anybody can teU weU enough, without description from me.

Oh, my pretty withdrawing-room, with its chairs of tapestry-work, wrought by tho hands of my dear mother and aunts ; with the spinet and the beautiful Italian cabinet that Captain Hamilton caused to be brought from London, aU the way, to adorn our home withal ; not to mention the gewgaws and chaney that his mother gave us I What a state it was in when I came back to it out of Derry I The costly hangings of Italian silk, that were a present from my lord Duke, my husband's kinsman and friend, sent to us from his palace in Scotland, I had fortunately saved, taking them with me among my mails when we removed into the city before the siege. But the floor that was the pride of Margery's heart for its shining (which to maintain cost the maids so much hard rubbing with the cicely seeds from the river-bank) — 'twas of the same colour as the road to the waterside of Derry, and not a whit brighter ; and the staircase of polished oak was in the same condition.

Throughout the house everything was in like case, as was to be expected ; but the rest of the furniture, being more solid than that in my closet, it hath suffered less actual damage, and is now restored to something Uke its former state. My pretty silk hangings are once more in their old places ; many of the other things have been repaired marveUous neatly ; some pieces even of the chancy have been found, and Margery hath mended them with a mysterious stuff that she makes from the pounded lime of shells, mixed with the white of an egg, and I know not what else. They will scarce bear handling, but they stand in their old places. Everywhere, to be sure, there are scars and scratches — you can see them when you look for them — nor would I wish to be rid of them entirely, they being, as it were, a kind of written history.

But to a casual eye the house appears but little different from what it was a year ago — on the day, to wit, that my Lord Mountjoy came to it with my husband out of Derry, to sup here and lie all night, on his way to Dublin. Whenever I find myself disposed to murmur at the destruction that hath been wrought in my house, I have nothing more to do than to think of the case of so many of our neighbours, whose houses are for the most part either burnt down or sacked to the bare waUs. By what means ours escaped the like treatment I do not know. 'Tis true that a person of very great consideration was quartered here for a time — no less than the French Ambas sador himself. But since I have heard the very headquarter resi dence itself — Sir Matthew Bridge's house of BrookhaU, to wit — was razed to the ground by the Irish army at its leaving, I weU perceive that this cannot have been the reason it was spared.

And, indeed, from aU I can learn of Monsieur le Comte d'Avaux, he is one much more Uke to have counselled the destruction of any place that might harbour us, and even urged it, than to have said a word in favour of leaving it standing, he counting aU that have borne arms against King James the enemies of King Louis as weU. Howsoever the marvel is to be explained, it is a truth that we have a roof to cover us, and under it no smaU share of the con veniences of Use, and when I hear murmuring from any of my people, I spare not to point them to numbers of poor neighbours who are every day at our door imploring succour, persons that were every one of them in the possession of a good competency before the war. No doubt their losses wiU be all made up to them ere long, and more, for none can doubt that their Majesties King WiUiam and Queen Mary (God bless them !) have the wiU to be not only just but generous, as witness his Majesty's gracious letter that was read in the Diamond of Derry in the early days of the month of September.

But in the meantime they suffer much hardship and many privations ; and it is much my wiU to be very sparing in our own proper outlays, that so we may have the more power to give them relief. Having come together through so great rigour and straitness, sure 'tis a pleasure at one's very heart to share prosperity with them that were our feUow-sufferers. It is indeed one of my dearest blessings that I have the where withal to be serviceable to these poor friends ; nor should I have had so much had I not plucked up a spirit to withstand Major- General Kirke, our very tardy deliverer, in his exactions. For as soon as he had fairly succoured Derry — that I should ascribe it to him, who, for aught that hath appeared, had more the wiU to look on at its destruction than to make any honest endeavour to relieve it ! — no sooner, at any rate, was the city reheved, than the Major-General sent parties of soldiers in aU directions to seize the cattle and sheep that remained to the country people, upon the pretence that they were the abandoned booty of the enemy.

Why he did a thing so tyrannous none can say, save that it hath ever been his wont to pillage upon any pretext or none. To be sure, he brought great plenty into Derry. Perhaps he thought that in the sudden abundance the people might forget the famine that had there been endured so lately, mainly through his tardiness. If this was his reason, he had better have left it alone, for the common people throughout aU the district have been reduced to such extremity thereby, that now they say that King James's soldiers are better neighbours by far than King WiUiam's. And the welfare of the province had been so undermined that, now that aU he gathered together hath been consumed in the city, there is but Uttle in the country that can be brought into market, so that there is again a scarcity, not in the city only, but in the country as weU.

And thus for every good word that Kirke got in Derry in the time of plenty, he now gets ten hard ones in the city, and an hundred in the country. And that is much more his due, as I think, than praise for anything he hath ever done here in Ireland. In due course, as was to be looked for, these legalised marauders came to my house at CloncaUy, where there was, one way and another, a considerable number of cattle. When we were forced to go into Derry before the siege, we left our stock in the charge of some known dependents and tenants, who chose rather to remain without the city and take protection from the enemy. Much of our young cattle we sent away into the hiU-country, where they stiU are ; but as soon as we were known to be at home again, those that had the charge of our cattle sent them back — such of them, at least, as the enemy had spared to seize.

Thus we had a goodly number both of cattle and sheep when General Kirke's marauders came our way. I could not imagine what there was to do that morning, what with the lowing of bestial and shouting of men in the courtyard without, and the tumult of voices within the house. I was stiU in my chamber, not having finished dressing, and Margery was with me ; so I sent her to bring me some account of the noise. She had scarce had time, as I thought, to reach the kitchen, when she was back again, bringing with her Jenny Hunter, the dairymaid — a woman that hath her fuU share of sense and faculty, as she hath more than once shown. She had been waiting my convenience in the kitchen for some time, as she told me. I promise you I quickly gave orders that wiU hinder the like from happening again. The convenience of a mistress is a thing that may weU give way to the welfare of her household.

Poor Jenny, between rage and fright, had quite lost the power to make herself understood. She began a jumbled lament about the EngUsh soldiers, and PoUy and Biddy, and NeUy and Rosy, that told me nothing at aU. I made her sit down, even in my presence, assuring her that things could not be so bad but that something might be done to mend them, would she but coUect herself and teU me clearly what was amiss. " Auch, madam, the beautiful cattle I " said she ; " sure we'U niver see them again, and them beginning to be fat and nice again. Auch, and two of them in fuU milk, too, when milk's so scarce, goin' to be sold for beef at a penny a pound in Derry I " And at that she broke out once more into sobbing and crying, so that I could make nothing of her at aU. " Jenny, Jenny," said I, " something has certainly muddled your wits this morning.

What is it ? Can't ye teU me plainly what's wrong I I'm not going to sell my cows, either at a penny a pound or a shilling a pound, so make your mind easy." " SeU them, madam 1 No, indade," said she. " It's not yourself that'U have the chance either to seU them or to kape them. There's about a score of English soldiers gatherin' them into droves even now, to drive them into Derry for beef to the town." " Nonsense 1 " said I ; " that can't be true, for I've received no letter of requisition ; and if I had, there are young beasts enough to send without kiUing our milk kine." " 'Tis even too true, madam," said Margery, who had been down again to gather news, seeing how unfit Jenny was to teU them — " 'tis even too true," quoth she. " There's a party of the English soldiers below in the yard that say they have B General Kirke's orders to bring away aU the live stock they can lay hands on, pretending that 'tis aU the booty of/the Irish army, and must therefore be the spoil ofthe conquerors."

At this I bethought me that Colonel Mitchelburne, our late military commander in Derry, would be aware if this was within the right of our defenders, as they scrupled not to caU themselves. The Colonel lay at CloncaUy that night — 'twas shortly before his departure for England — and I sent Margery to desire he would favour me with a minute's conversation as quick as might be ; and that he did, being with me in a very few moments. Jenny by this time had got back her senses, and was able to teU him aU that had occurred. He straightway assured me that Kirke had no right — save the right of the strong hand — to take from me a horn or a hoof that was my husband's, save upon clear necessity shown, and then to give me his biU of indebtedness for aU that was taken without payment made. Upon that assurance I was for hastening straight to the courtyard to expostulate with the officer commanding the foraging party ; but Margery would have me delay tiU she brought me the hood and negligee that I wear when I go abroad in the mornings.

" For if you wiU speak to these rude men," said she, " sure you must not either be flustered nor appear to be in haste, but show the same authority that you have among your own servants." It chafed me to be hindered, even for a moment ; but I have thought since that it was she was the wise one that time, not I. It is certain that a woman can do nothing to put herself at greater disadvantage in treating with men than to show any dis composure of manner, or any appearance of contending with them. If she be dignified and quiet, and show no doubt of their desire to serve her, they wiU scarce fail to show her that courtesy which is her due ; such, at least, hath been my experience. But in my sudden heat of indignation, thinking that in my husband's necessary absence they were about to plunder him and me (for, having heard nothing of the exactions practised on my neighbours, truly I thought this to be a case by itself), I felt in myself the spirit to have chidden the armed soldiers Uke naughty children ; and had done it, too, but for Margery, and thereby, no doubt, lost much.

My composure, thus assumed with my hood and neghgde, was nigh to failing me when I saw my mUch cows from the farmyard, and the young cattle and stock from the pasture, driven peU-meU into the courtyard, huddled and hustled together into droves, in preparation for being driven away altogether. My heart came into my very throat to think how it had fared with me aid with aU of us had I been timid and diffident of opposing mine own wiU to the wiU of others, as women are for the most part, and as I myself used to be. Then had I certainly stood still, witb indigna tion burning in my heart and in mine eyes, no doubt, but with never a word to say to hinder them from stripping me of what I had to support my family and household withal, and that without reason given or payment so much as promised. But since my marriage my husband's frequent absences from home have forced me to acquire the habit of governing his people ; thus I felt my duty, and knew my right, to require a reason for these arbitrary measures.

As to the miUtary dress and arms, they awed me not at aU. Six months' experience of the like in Derry had shown me for certain that they covered flesh and blood much similar to those of ordinary men. I therefore caUed to me one of the soldiers that was nearest, bidding him desire his commanding officer to speak with me, and presently there came to me a man gray-headed and weather beaten, that had neither the bearing nor seeming that belonged to one that held his Majesty's commission ; nor did he, being but a corporal. Such were the persons empowered by Kirke to deprive us at their wiU of our substance. Sure there were men even in King James's army that had thought it their duty to show greater care of the weU-being of conquered enemies, let alone their loyal feUow subjects that they were sent to protect.

But I am bound to say for this man that he treated me with aU respect. I asked him of his errand — whether it were for the service of the garrison at Derry he was coUecting my cattle, to which he answered " Yes." Then I desired him that he would serve me with the letter, stating how many cattle I was asked to provide them withal, and upon whose authority the requisition was made. At that he seemed something confused, but made answer pre sently that he brought no such paper as I spoke of. "But," said he, " it is by the orders and authority of Major- General Kirke, mflitary Governor of Londonderry, that I take possession of the cattle." " Then," said I to him, " teU me how many cattle he hath bidden you to require of me, and I wiU order mine own people to choose them and deliver them to you, you giving me, of course, your receipt for the same."

The man seemed yet more taken aback than at the first. " Madam," said he, aster muttering something to himself that was not meant for mine ears, " I am not required by my orders to give receipts for the cattle I collect, nor is there a number ap pointed me to ask. It hath come to the ears of the General," said he, gathering assurance, " that aU the cattle in these parts is nothing but the stock that was abandoned by the Irish army in its retreat, which the country people have taken for their own use, a thing that can by no means be permitted, for by aU the rules of war the booty of a routed army belongs to the conquerors. The General hath therefore sent us out to bring it in." The man tried to speak roundly, but was let by his conscience ; for weU he knew the falsehood of that which, as he said, had been told to the General.

I answered him very quietly. " Then the General is misinformed," said I. " For there is not an animal you see here but is the undoubted property of Captain HamUton, my husband. They were aU bestowed in safe keeping while the Jacobite army was here, as can be proved by many witnesses. Any one that knows Mr. Hamilton — and there are enough of his acquaintances in Derry," said I, "to speak to his reputation — wiU teU General Kirke whether we are Uke to refuse anything we have that is required for the pubhc service, so it be duly asked of us and the need for it shown. But this is iUegal exaction, and I leave it to yourself to say if I should submit to it." I finished in my very gentlest voice, which was none so easy for me to compass, for ever and anon there came a sound into it, in my own despite, that was pure defiance, and even to mine own ear said plainly, "Do it if you dare !