Under Louis the army of France had changed dramatically. When the Duke d’Epernon, the Colonel-General of Infantry, died, Louis took over that office as well, having earlier identified the Colonel-General of Infantry as being more powerful than himself. Louis now held the authority to issue commissions in the Royal Army’s infantry arm. Colonel-General appointments continued to exist in the army’s other arms – cavalry, dragoons and Swiss troops – but their power was nominal. The king now possessed real power and began establishing the most powerful war machine seen in Europe since the demise of the Roman Empire.23
The concept of national armies is now so familiar that it is difficult to conceive of a time when they did not exist, but this was the case even in the France of Louis XIV where there were many local town forces under governors who enjoyed almost complete independence. Louis brought that situation to an end by cutting off the finance for local troops and rotating the postings of governors so that power and control shifted to the centre, to Louis himself. With that centralized power, Louis began reforming the French army, especially the infantry, which he noted, as late as 1666, was not very good.24 As with other armies of the day, the French army was a collection of units rather than a cohesive force. Discipline was poor and often non-existent, while weaponry, organization, pay and clothing were far from uniform; a regiment might have several companies in different uniforms and of differing strengths. As for pay: sometimes it arrived and sometimes it did not, and this was one of the greatest causes of indiscipline.
The reform process was begun by Michelle le Tellier, Louis’ secretary of war, but it was le Tellier’s son, the Marquis de Louvois, who achieved his monarch’s aim of creating a thoroughly professional and effective fighting force.25 To Louvois and Louis belong the credit for creating the first truly modern army, to which most modern armies owe their genesis. In the new French army, discipline and loyalty to the monarch were core features; the corruption that had existed hitherto was stamped out by making examples of corrupt officers, and morale increased, especially when soldiers realized that their officers had to become conversant with the skills of warfare. No longer were commissions to be awarded as sinecures, and, since officers now recognized that their careers depended on demonstrating professionalism, the sales of military training manuals increased exponentially. Within the rank and file, soldiers took pride in their new uniforms and were pleased that their pay was arriving regularly. Thus both officers and other ranks were keen to become more professional.
This new era of professionalism was embodied in one commanding officer whose regiment became a byword for effective and disciplined service. This was Jean de Martinet, lieutenant-colonel of le Regiment du Roi (The King’s Regiment). Martinet trained his regiment so well that it became an exemplar during the 1667 campaign, the War of Devolution, and its practices and procedures were commended to the rest of the army, both infantry and cavalry, and adopted as standard practice. Sadly for Martinet, his name has become synonymous with that form of rigid discipline that demands blind obedience, something with which he, and his soldiers, would have been unfamiliar.26
Expansion of the Royal Army was also facilitated by the practice of keeping officers of disbanded regiments in service with the Guards’ units, thereby creating a cadre of professionals who could raise new regiments whenever necessary. In 1688 Louis also introduced conscription through what was known as a militia draft.27 By the time the European war reached out to engulf Ireland, the Royal Army already numbered about a third of a million men and was destined to increase to almost 500,000, and the largest in Europe, by 1694. That figure would not be exceeded for a century until another French leader, Napoleon Bonaparte, created his Grande Armée.
This powerful Royal Army allowed Louis XIV to expand France’s frontiers through military muscle. He was attempting to create a defensive buffer, or ceinture de fer (iron belt), around his country, in much the same manner as the Soviet Union’s domination of Eastern Europe provided a defensive buffer for Russia in the decades following the Second World War. In Louis’ view, the natural frontiers of France were formed by the Rhine to the east and the Pyrenees to the south with Spanish Flanders, present-day Belgium, as an integral part of France. Military power was used to dominate and intimidate Europe as Louis pushed to make France’s frontiers more easily defensible, at less cost to France, by creating the pré carré, or square field.
Needless to say, other European states were not happy with French policy. The Dutch were especially reluctant to see Louis XIV’s France try to establish dominion over the continent. They had but recently thrown off the control of the Spanish empire and were not willing to become a vassal of France. Regardless of his neighbours’ views, Louis continued to expand to what he considered the natural and logical frontiers of France: Artois, Lorraine and Franche-Comté, all French-speaking areas, were annexed and integrated into France in spite of opposition from neighbouring states. Then, in 1681, Louis seized Alsace, an area that was German-speaking. In doing so, he set the trigger for a process that would create long-lasting alliances between states that shared few interests other than the checking of Louis’ expansionist policy. Only through such alliances could the other states in Europe stand against France since the latter was by far the largest state in Europe: in 1661, when Louis took personal power, the population of France numbered some 18 million souls, whereas Habsburg Austria had about eight million and both England and Spain some six million each. It did not require a Cartesian genius to realize that none of these states could stand alone against France.
Louis also succeeded in making an enemy of the Pope, Innocent XI, by his refusal to accede to a papal request to go to the assistance of Austria when Turkish forces laid siege to Vienna in 1683. Although the Austrians beat off the attackers – and celebrated their success by creating a new cake in the form of the Islamic crescent, the croissant – the Pope was not to forgive Louis, and friction between the pair increased in 1688 when Innocent refused to appoint a Frenchman to the archbishopric of Cologne. The man was Louis’ candidate and the Sun King’s anger led to the invasion of the Rhineland which, in turn, triggered William of Orange’s invasion of England. By now, Austria, Sweden and several German states had formed the League of Augsburg – created in 1686 – to counter French expansionism. Also a member of the League was the Dutch Republic, and William of Orange was to become the leading figure of the League. William’s invasion of England in 1688 was intended to bring that country into the League against France. Pope Innocent XI gave the League his blessing, thereby creating a Catholic-Protestant alliance against the world’s most powerful Catholic monarch, and this in an age when religious affiliations were very important. Louis was left with only one ally in Europe, King James II of England, who was forced into exile after William’s invasion of his country. James had supported Louis’ candidate for the archepiscopacy of Cologne and thereby incurred the wrath of both the pope and the Austrian emperor.
It was the exiled James II who was to become Louis’ surrogate leader in Ireland, rallying Irish Catholics and Jacobites in a campaign to take control of the island. (Louis’ intentions, however, were limited to using James as a distraction to keep William away from the continent.) Ireland was to be the scene for a war that lasted some three years and which devastated much of the country. In Irish history the war has become known as the ‘war of the two kings’ but it ought, more accurately, to be styled the ‘war of the three kings’ for, although he was never present in Ireland Louis’ was the hand that did most to precipitate that war.
Why had James II been forced into exile? Although the traditional answer is that he fled the country of his own volition and thus abdicated, the truth is not quite so simple. Since King Charles II had no legitimate male heirs, the crown was likely to pass to his brother, James, Duke of York, unless James predeceased Charles. James had converted to Catholicism and there had been a move to exclude him from the succession in 1678 but this, the Exclusion Bill, had come to naught, being defe
ated in the House of Lords, and when Charles II died in 1685 James II’s religious affiliation was not perceived as a threat by Parliament since he had no legitimate male heir to succeed him, thereby establishing a Catholic dynasty. Instead, the crown would pass to James’ daughter Mary, who was married to James’ nephew, William Henry Nassau, Stadtholder of the Dutch Republic and Prince of Orange.28
This state of affairs changed when James’ second wife, Mary of Modena, gave birth to a son and raised the threat of Protestant England being ruled by Catholics.29 Allegations were made that the queen had borne a daughter but that a boy had been smuggled into the royal bedchamber in a warming pan.6 These claims were part of a propaganda campaign to deny the new-born Prince of Wales his birthright but even then the thought of a Catholic succession might have been tolerable had it not been for James’ attitude to Parliament. Although his own father, Charles I, had been executed by Parliament for opposing that institution, James failed to appreciate the lesson of his father’s fate: that, having shown its muscle already in his lifetime, Parliament was capable of repeating the performance. James seemed to believe in the divine right of kings and was determined to be the real power in the land, as was Louis XIV in France. The power struggle that ensued and which led to the war in Ireland, and Scotland, had much more to do with the rights of Parliament than with religion.
Although James was an enthusiastic Catholic, as is often the case with converts, the charges that he was a bigot are unfounded.30 Although he proclaimed that he wished all his people to enjoy the Catholic faith as he did, he added the rider that ‘our blessed Saviour whipt people out of the temple, but I never heard he commanded any should be forced into it’.31 In his day James II was a man of considerable tolerance and while he is remembered for instigating a policy of reverse discrimination, placing Catholics in positions of influence and power where and when he could, it is forgotten that he also included non-conformists in that policy, as they suffered the same disabilities as the Catholics. James took care to advise his lord deputy in Ireland, Richard Talbot, Earl of Tyrconnel, to be generous to the Presbyterians of Ulster – advice that Talbot ignored with disastrous consequences for his and James’ cause.32 Implementing his new policy required the repeal of legislation that restricted the rights of Catholics and non-conformists, but this necessitated the support of Parliament. However, that body was composed entirely of Anglicans who benefited from those laws and were, therefore, unlikely to repeal them to their own detriment. To bring about the changes he wanted, James II would have to follow the example of Louis XIV by proroguing Parliament and assuming absolute power. Such a step was guaranteed to bring King and Parliament into conflict.
James’ attitude to Parliament had created a momentum that threatened to lead to another civil war and his son-in-law, and nephew, William of Orange decided to travel to England to persuade his father-in-law to adopt a more conciliatory tone. William knew that none of his Catholic allies in the League of Augsburg, and especially Austria’s Emperor Leopold, would tolerate the deposing of any monarch, above all a Catholic, by a fellow head of state; the one exception to this rule was, of course, Louis XIV. Events overtook both William and James as a small group of influential Englishmen invited William to come to England and take the throne. The invitation was not issued by Parliament, although it is a popular belief that such was the case. When William landed in Devon on 5 November 1688 at the head of an army of 15,000 men, the largest invasion force ever to land in Britain, James led his army to Salisbury to meet the invaders.33 William might have expected a warm welcome from the people of the West Country, but if he did he was mistaken: following Monmouth’s defeat in 1685 that part of the country had been ruled rigorously and the ‘Bloody Assizes’ had left such an impression that the reception for William was quite cool.34 Had James seized the initiative ‘and appealed to the national dislike of foreigners to rouse his subjects against the Dutch the issue would hardly have been in doubt’.35 Instead he vacillated and appeared to be more concerned about gaining time for the Queen and the infant Prince of Wales to leave the country than in fighting the Dutchman. This lack of resolution, which he attributed to a nosebleed, lost him the confidence of his commander in chief, John Churchill, later the first Duke of Marlborough. Churchill decided that he was on the losing side, and switched his allegiance to the Dutchman leaving James’ army in turmoil; a third of its officers followed Churchill, another third remained loyal to James, and the remainder resigned their commissions. Nor had the Royal Navy, of which James had been high admiral, been able to stop the Dutch fleet due to adverse wind conditions; it was said that a ‘Protestant wind’ brought William to Britain. Betrayed by his commander in chief and, apparently, failed by his navy, James II panicked and fled for refuge to France.
The king’s panic-stricken departure left London in a state of anarchy with rioters attacking Catholics and burning buildings and the homes of foreign diplomats; the Spanish ambassador’s home was among three that were destroyed. To try to restore the situation, a group of peers, under the presidency of the Marquis of Halifax, who was to become Lord Privy Seal, met at London’s Guildhall and, on 21 December, twenty-nine of the peers declared that they would unite themselves with William of Orange and undertake to maintain order until his arrival in London. James’ departure allowed a constitutional settlement to be reached quickly. An election was held and the convention formed thereby began the work of reaching a settlement. This was not a proper parliament since there had not been a royal summons but it was understood that its work would be affirmed later by a regular parliament. It was this convention that declared that James had abdicated and which, on 23 February 1689, invited William and Mary to take the throne. William had refused to hold any position that would make him subordinate to his wife and this ruled out the option of Queen Mary with a prince consort, or of William as a regent. The coronation followed on 11 April 1689, by which date James was in Ireland, where, because of the separate Irish Parliament, he was still legally the monarch.36 However, William, now William III, was able to proclaim that he had been given the crown rather than having taken it.
James arrived in Ireland on 12 March 1689, landing at Kinsale, the nearest major port to mainland Europe.7 He found considerable support since Richard Talbot had created a Catholic army and a Catholic civil service. In addition, he had the support of Louis although, as already noted, that support was limited to using James’ presence in Ireland to distract William from the conflict on the European mainland. A Jacobite army in Ireland, with James at its head, and the backing of France, meant that William would have to guard his back and undertake a campaign in Ireland, albeit unwanted, to contain James’ army. That campaign would mean the deployment of many English troops who might otherwise have joined the forces of the League of Augsburg on the mainland. And there was a bonus for Louis in that James also enjoyed considerable support in Scotland – he was, after all, a Stuart – and success in Ireland would allow James to move to Scotland, thus increasing the threat to England. Louis’ strategy was working well.
The new joint monarch of England and Scotland, William III, was a paradoxical figure. He came from Europe’s only republic, The Netherlands, where he had been born, less than forty years before, in 1650, in the Binnenhoft Palace in The Hague. His mother was Charles II’s daughter but William never knew his father who died before his only child was born. William’s great-grandfather was William the Silent, the man who had led The Netherlands to independence from Spain; this began a family tradition of being champions of Protestantism. Following a lonely childhood and a strict religious education, William Henry Nassau8 became a gifted statesman as well as Stadtholder of the Dutch Republic. His qualities as a statesman are illustrated by his cementing the League of Augsburg, an unlikely and disparate alliance, and by his success as stadtholder, where he worked in union with the States General, the Dutch ruling body. Arguably, he was the most suitable candidate to be a constitutional monarch, which is what he became in Britain. In fa
ct, William III saved the monarchy and created the institution that we know today. This is often forgotten amidst the claims that William secured civil and religious liberty in Britain. His true legacy is the modern monarchy. With James in exile, Parliament could have deposed him as it did with his father and declared a second British republic in less than fifty years. Few wanted that, however, and William proved to be the ideal compromise as a monarch who would rule with Parliament, allowing precedence to the latter.
These were the three kings who would bring war to Ireland, a war that included the famous siege of Londonderry. By the end of 1688, with William already in England and James in exile in France, war had already broken out in Ireland and the people of Londonderry felt threatened.
Notes
1: Hughes, Military Architecture, Ch 3 ‘Renaissance Fortifications’ deals with this change but see especially pp. 62–77.
2: Chandler, The Art of Warfare in the Age of Marlborough, p. 69
3: Lacy, Siege City, p. 19
4: Ibid, p. 10
5: Ibid, p. 8
6: Thomas, Derry-Londonderry, p. 1
The Siege of Derry 1689 Page 3