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.