Battle of Aughrim 1691

By Michael McNally

With more than 60,000 combatants, the Battle of the Boyne, which took place on July 1, 1690, was the largest battle ever fought on Irish soil, and has long been regarded as the pivotal event of the Williamite War due to the presence of two crowned Kings of England—James II and William III—in command of the opposing armies. This is in fact a fallacy, as the crucial engagement of the conflict, and indeed Ireland’s bloodiest battle, took place almost a year later when almost 20,000 Jacobite troops met an opposing Williamite army of over 25,000 men on the afternoon of July 12th, 1691, outside the village of Aughrim in County Galway in the west of Ireland. Aughrim was truly decisive in that, because of the casualties suffered by the defeated Jacobite forces, it was the last field engagement of a war which had begun in the spring of 1689 and ended with the signing of the Treaty of Limerick in October 1691. As a result of this the battle is often referred to as both "Aughrim of the Slaughter" and "Ireland’s Gettysburg."

• Language: English
• Publisher: The History Press
• Release date: Nov 17, 2008
• ISBN: 9780752496580

Book preview

The Battle of

AUGHRIM

1691

About the Author

Michael McNally is a military historian whose other books include The Battle of the Boyne 1690 and Easter Rising 1916: Birth of the Irish Republic. He is currently completing a study of Cromwell’s campaign in Ireland. He lives with his wife and family near Cologne in Germany.

The Battle of

AUGHRIM

1691

MICHAEL McNALLY

Dedication

I’d like to dedicate this book to my father, Brendan McNally,

who tragically passed away as the manuscript was being completed –

This one’s for you, Dad.

Front cover: A Cavalry Skirmish by Jan Wyck c. 1640–1702.

© Ulster Museum 2008. Collection: Ulster Museum, Belfast.

Photograph reproduced courtesy of the Trustees of National Museums Northern Ireland.

First published 2008

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2013

All rights reserved

© Michael McNally, 2008, 2013

The right of Michael McNally to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 0 7524 9658 0

Original typesetting by The History Press

Contents

Acknowledgements

Firstly I’d like to thank my wife, Petra, and children Stephen, Elena and Liam for their extreme patience and for putting up with me during the preparation of this book. I’d also like to thank the following people who have freely given their time to assist with proof reading the original manuscript or offering insights into or comments regarding various incidents and individuals mentioned therein – any mistakes remaining are my own – Andy Copestake, Ian Spence, Lee Offen, Dr David Murphy, Rt Hon Bryan Bellew, Danny Walsh and Martin Francis.

I’d also like to thank my editor at The History Press, Jonathan Reeve, for his help and encouragement, and the staffs of the various museums and institutions who have kindly given permission for the use of a number of images reproduced within this book.

Finally, I would like to offer my special thanks to Thomas Brogan and his wife, Mary, for travelling halfway across Ireland – when injury meant that I was unable to travel – purely to take the battlefield photography and for producing the excellent maps which accompany the text; Robert Hall for the production of the two plates depicting uniforms from the combatant armies and last, but by no means least, a heartfelt thank you to Seán O’Brogaín for skilfully converting my interpretation of certain events into the various plates which bring the battle so vividly to life.

A Note on Spelling

For the Jacobite Irish and their French allies, language was often a seemingly insurmountable barrier, with many names being mangled in translation. In the case of Charles de Chalmont, there are no less than eleven different versions of his title, for ease I have therefore followed common practice and referred to him as the Marquis de St Ruth.

Similarly, and to be strictly accurate, St Ruth’s opponent should simply be referred to as Godard van Reede, Heer van Reede, as he did not inherit the titles by which he is commonly known until the death of his father Godard Adriaan van Reede, Heer van Amerongen and Heer van Ginkel in October 1691. However, and again to ease possible confusion, I have followed convention and referred to him as van Ginkel.

Campaign Map

Introduction

The crucial point of King James II’s reign came neither on the battlefield nor in the diplomatic arena, but at St James’s Palace in London when, on 7 December 1687, it was announced that – after fourteen years of marriage, during which four children had died in infancy, his wife, Queen Mary Beatrice, was once again expecting a child.

The accession of James, Duke of York, in February 1685, and his subsequent coronation as King James II of England, Ireland and France and VII of Scotland had been treated with relative indifference by the majority of his new subjects: Although a Roman Catholic, he was by virtue of his position as King, the head of the Anglican Church and this aberration in the religious status quo was tolerated in the certainty that he would be succeeded on the throne by either of his adult and staunchly Protestant daughters, the Princesses Mary and Anne, both of whom were married to suitably Protestant princes – Mary to William Henry van Nassau, Prince of Orange and Stadtholder of the United Dutch Provinces and Anne to Prince George, the younger brother of King Christian V of Denmark.

The first months of his Personal Rule were not without danger for the new king, as he had to survive a two-pronged attack from rebel forces under the command of James Scott, Duke of Monmouth and Buccleuch – an illegitimate son of Charles II who had languished in Rotterdam since 1683 – and Archibald Campbell, the 9th Earl of Argyll, a central figure within the community of Anglo-Scots exiles in Amsterdam.

The twin invasions were badly co-ordinated with Argyll meeting little enthusiasm – even from his own clansmen – and after his army collapsed he was captured at Inchinnan on 18 June, being executed in Edinburgh twelve days later.

Monmouth however landed at Lyme Regis in Dorset on 11 June, at a time when the Scots rising had almost run its course, proceeding to Taunton where he had himself proclaimed as the True King James, stating that he had been legitimised by his late father, and that his uncle’s accession was therefore illegal.

A popular figure, thousands flocked to Monmouth’s standard, but no longer having to worry about the situation in Scotland, Government troops under the command of Louis de Duras, the French-born Earl of Feversham, marched into the West Country to meet the invader. The two forces met at Sedgemoor during the early hours of 6 July 1685 and after three hours’ confused fighting, Monmouth’s superior numbers proved to yield little advantage against the Royal Army.

In the ensuing rout the Duke was captured and taken to London where he was executed on Tower Hill on 15 July. Mistaking the ground-swell of public opinion, James then made a serious miscalculation by instructing his Lord Chief Justice – Sir George Jeffreys – to conduct a series of flying courts in the areas through which Monmouth had campaigned. Known as the ‘Bloody Assizes’ over 1,400 cases were tried, with many of the defendants being found guilty on the flimsiest of excuses. In all some 300 of the defendants were executed with a further 600 being transported to the Caribbean for use as slave labour, few – if any – of the remainder were acquitted, instead being committed to prison which, in itself, was tantamount to a death sentence.

Deliberately distant from the people, James continued, as his reign progressed, to initiate policies which took no account of public opinion. In 1686 he began measures to increase the standing army to over 20,000 men, and the following year attempted to introduce the ‘Declaration of Indulgence’, a device which he believed to be a sincere attempt to reduce the gulf between the established Church of England, i.e. Anglicanism, and other Christian doctrines. To many, the intent behind the document was bound up in a single clause which voided the Test Acts,¹ in effect opening up the government and the military to Roman Catholics, which many believed to be a precursor to the establishment of an absolutist state similar to the France of King Louis XIV.

The announcement of the Queen’s pregnancy cast James’s potential opponents into disarray and, in the spring of 1688 many were torn between loyalty to their king and dictates of conscience; but when James tried for a second time to have the ‘Declaration’ endorsed by the Anglican Church, several prelates led by William Sancroft, Archbishop of Canterbury,² refused to obey the Royal summons, citing legal rather than religious grounds for their actions. Refusing to be thwarted, James had the bishops committed to the Tower of London and then put on trial. All were unanimously acquitted.

The birth of James Francis Edward, Prince of Wales on 10 June tore the country apart, realising as it did the creation of a Catholic line of succession to the English throne. Although there were many rumours spread about the child’s parentage, to many the question was never in doubt.

It was against this backdrop that a group led by the Earl of Shrewsbury and subsequently known as the ‘Seven Immortals’ decided to act and wrote to William of Orange, husband of the Princess Mary, inviting him to support a popular rising against James in order to secure the throne for his wife and, of course, the Protestant faith. The petitioners³ implied that the country was once more ripe for rebellion against James, and being aware of discontent amongst senior officers, believed that the majority of the army could be brought over to William’s cause.

Needing England’s armed forces in his struggle against King Louis XIV of France, William agreed to launch an invasion in support of his wife’s right of succession and, on 5 November 1688,⁴ he landed at Torbay, in Devon, with an army of between 14 and 15,000 veteran troops. After consolidating his position, William moved eastwards on Salisbury where James’s main army of 24,000 men was once more assembling under the command of the Earl of Feversham.

Despite the assertions of Shrewsbury and his confederates, the dissent in the army was nowhere as strong as they had led William to believe, and despite a number of regimental officers attempting to bring their commands over to William’s side,⁵ the Royal Army remained relatively intact. However, rather than advancing to engage the invaders, and fearing the disintegration of his army, James ordered a withdrawal towards London, in the hope of maintaining the Line of the Thames as a defensive bulwark between the two armies.

It was a decision which effectively cost James the campaign. Even as the orders were being given for the army to move, there was a second, and more crucial exodus from the royal encampment. Led by John Churchill, many of Feversham’s senior subordinates went over to William.⁶ During the march, troops began to desert and with discipline nonexistent it was an army in name only that Feversham led into encampments around Uxbridge.

James himself took immediate refuge in London and from there fled towards the coast, but was captured and returned to London where he was placed under house arrest at St James’s Palace. On 17 December, William decided to remove his father-in-law from the capital, and sent the three battalions of the Dutch Blue Guards to take custody of James. On arriving at the palace, the Dutchmen found themselves faced by William, Earl of Craven, commanding several companies of the Coldstream Guards. Still loyal to his king, and despite his men being heavily outnumbered, Craven asked for permission to attack the enemy, but James refused to countenance the inevitable slaughter of his loyal troops, instead surrendering to Count Solms, the Dutch commander.⁷

The royal prisoner was transferred to Rochester, and from here on 22 December – arguably with the connivance of William – he escaped to the Continent, landing at the port of Ambleteuse, in northern France, on Christmas Day 1688. Whatever the truth of William’s involvement in the escape, much political capital was made of the fact that, in the eyes of many, James has abandoned his throne, effectively abdicating in favour of his daughter Mary and her husband, William of Orange.

James was immediately welcomed at the Court of his first cousin, King Louis XIV, and almost immediately came a letter which would carry his hopes of regaining his throne. Following instructions given to him by James, the Lord Deputy of Ireland – Richard Talbot, the Duke of Tyrconnel – had begun a process of removing Protestants from the Irish Establishment⁸ and replacing them with Catholics and then, as following the Prince of Orange’s invasion, he had issued a large number of commissions, expanding the army to well over 50,000 men, far in excess of the troops currently available to William. Tyrconnel’s problem – as he wrote to Versailles – was that his men urgently needed training and equipment, and that with these at least one of the Stuart kingdoms would be safe.

With his hold on England still precarious, William now attempted to negotiate with Tyrconnel and sent, as his envoy, Colonel Richard Hamilton an Irish officer who had been interned during the recent campaign and who was, just as importantly, related to the Lord Deputy.⁹ Upon his arrival in Ireland, Hamilton lost no time in advising Tyrconnel as to the weakness of the new régime in London and in turn, this abetted the Lord Deputy’s decision to send the letter to the French Court.

At Versailles the initiative was taken by King Louis who saw this as a perfect opportunity to divert William away from the conflict that was raging in the Low Countries. Arrangements were soon made to outfit an expedition to Ireland, for as the celebrated French military engineer Vauban remarked, ‘I have an idea that when a man plays his last stake he ought to play it himself or to be on the spot. The King of England seems to be in this condition – His last stake is Ireland’.

It was therefore made plain that any attempt to regain the Throne of England would be decided upon an Irish battlefield.

1

A War of Kings:

November 1688 – December 1690

Just as it was assured that the most resistance to James’s plans to change the composition of the standing army would be met in England, it was also certain that in Ireland, these changes would be most welcome – not necessarily out of any loyalty to the King and the House of Stuart, but because many Irish nobles and magnates viewed James’s policies as being the best way to overturn the various political settlements that had seen their properties and powers denuded over the preceding half century.

When he received James’s instructions to begin a systematic weeding out of Protestants within the Irish Establishment, Tyrconnel, the Lord Deputy saw this not only as a means to obey his master’s wishes, but also to create – through the use of patronage – a military hierarchy in Ireland that owed its fortune to his good offices alone; in this way the careers of many officers received a boost which would see them firmly placed in the upper echelons of the new army. A prime example is Richard Hamilton of Nenagh, Co. Tipperary who had served previously in an Irish regiment of foot in French service, but was subsequently appointed colonel of dragoons on the Irish establishment and, after his return to Ireland in 1689, Lieutenant-General.¹

Commissions were granted to anyone deemed politically reliable who were both willing and financially able to raise troops – Magnates such as the Earls of Antrim and Clanrickarde raised complete regiments from their families, dependants and retainers whilst many independent companies were raised by members of the middle classes: the result was an army that has been estimated as being anywhere between 75,000 and 100,000 men strong.

On paper – at least – this was indeed a formidable force and it was the latent threat posed by such numbers that led William to accede in sending Richard Hamilton to Ireland in the first place. But with the exclusion of those regiments which had not been sent to England, and with few exceptions amongst regiments raised by the more affluent of James’s supporters, the army was a paper tiger. The bulk of the army was ill-trained and ill-equipped, with no standard organisation. Just as importantly it was a huge financial liability: whilst regiments raised on familial lines could defer some of their costs, many other officers had sunk their own wealth into their units and such sources of income could not provide for the troops indefinitely.

In an effort to resolve the problem Tyrconnel took steps to rationalise the army: A standard regimental organisation was established – regiments of foot would consist, in the main, of a single battalion of thirteen companies (of which one could be equipped as grenadiers). A regiment of horse would consist of nine troops while one of dragoons would consist of eight.² As a result of these changes the size of the army was slashed drastically and many units were either simply disbanded or merged with others to conform to the new regimental establishments – consequently large numbers of officers who had raised troops for James found their commissions terminated, and much ill will was generated at what was perceived to be Stuart ingratitude.

As the army reformed, and in anticipation of the coming struggle, Tyrconnel began to make arrangements to secure a number of strategic posts throughout the country. One of the foremost of these was the city of Derry, which lay on the west bank of the River Foyle on the borders of Counties Donegal and Londonderry. The city was strongly fortified with relatively modern defences, and was at this time occupied by a regiment of foot commanded by William Stewart, Lord Mountjoy.

Whilst Mountjoy’s troops were a mixture of Catholics and Protestants, he himself was a Protestant and in the Lord Deputy’s eyes, ultimately unreliable. He therefore ordered Mountjoy to bring his regiment to Dublin, and then cast about for a suitable body of troops with which to occupy Derry. The nearest was a detachment of the Earl of Antrim’s Regiment of Foot which was then forming around Coleraine prior to moving to Boyle, in Co. Roscommon, which was held by the remaining six companies of the regiment, under Antrim’s second in command Lt-Colonel Mark Talbot.

Mountjoy left Derry on 23 November, with no sign of the Earl of Antrim. As the troops departed, Derry would be left unoccupied for over two weeks, during which time the situation in Ulster would change dramatically. One of the main reasons for this is what is known as the Coomber Letter, addressed to Lord Mountalexander, one of Tyrconnel’s most vociferous opponents. This anonymous note was specifically designed to raise fears of a repetition of the Irish Uprising of 1641 during which many Protestants were murdered by Catholic rebels.

Whatever the provenance of the anonymous note it certainly had the desired effect, with its author writing that

‘all our Irishmen through Ireland is sworn: that on the ninth day of this month³ they are to fall on to kill and murder every man, wife and child; and I desire your Lordship to take care of yourself and all others that are judged by our men to be heads, for whosoever can kill any of you, they are to have a captain’s place; so my desire to your honour is to look to yourself and give other noblemen warning, and go not out either night or day without a good guard with you, and let no Irishman come near you, whatsoever he be.’

The implied threat was clear and soon, not only were copies of the letter being circulated throughout the north, but Mountalexander and his peers began to prepare for the inevitable, raising bodies of armed men to protect themselves and their co-religionists.

Much has been made of accounts that the Coleraine detachment took an excessive amount of time to reach its destination due to the ‘fact’ that Alexander, the septuagenarian Earl and regimental colonel insisted on wasting time in inducting recruits over six feet in height, or that by the time of the unit’s arrival at Derry it was accompanied by a mass of irregulars who were simply in attendance to pillage the city upon its occupation by Antrim’s regiment.

A more plausible explanation is that what was reported was the movement of a body of troops still in the process of implementing Tyrconnel’s ‘rationalisations’: a number of companies had been equipped, and had received some training, whilst the remainder of the troops were in various stages of being taught how to march and manoeuvre. Being the last of the regiment to be formed, the majority of these troops were both ill-equipped and ill-armed, giving rise to the myth of there being an armed rabble in attendance.

On 7 December – over two weeks late – the Coleraine detachment, under the command of Captain Daniel MacDonnell (an illegitimate son of the Earl), arrived on the eastern bank of the Foyle opposite Derry, and two officers were sent across into the city to make contact with the city council. Opinion within the city was divided – William’s victory in England was by no means certain – and a number of councillors wanted to err on the side of caution and not do