by G. A. Henty
Chapter 17: An Old Friend.
The command had been effected so suddenly that Desmond had notbeen able to make up his mind to request the Duke of Orleans, towhom he had been attached personally, rather than to the Frencharmy in Spain, to allow him to return with him to France, in orderthat he might again join the Duke of Berwick. Before, however, hecould decide whether to do so or not, the duke had taken hisdeparture.
Desmond spoke to the head of the staff, with whom he had beenconstantly thrown in contact before he left Madrid, and whilstexplaining to him, on his return, the details of his report, askedhim for his advice.
"I should think you had better remain here, Captain Kennedy. Thereis likely to be a great battle fought, in a few weeks; but if therumours we hear are correct, we may not be here very much longer.Certainly I hope there will be no change until then, for if we winthe battle, and so relieve Spain from the risk of invasion for atime, we can leave the country with a better grace, as Philipwould then only have to battle with his rebellious subjects inCatalonia."
"I should certainly not wish to leave when a great battle is aboutto be fought," Desmond said, "and will, therefore, continue toserve under the Marshal de Bay until it is certain what is goingto be done."
In a short time a general movement of the troops, both Spanish andFrench, began. Desmond and the other aides-de-camp were activelyemployed in keeping up communication between the various columns,which were to assemble near Badajos. Moving forward at the samerate as the troops, the march was a pleasant one. It was Aprilnow, the country looked bright, and the heat was not too great formarching.
The marshal had gone on with the greater portion of his staff,Desmond having been detailed to accompany the division fromToledo. When within two days' march of Badajos, an orderly broughta note from the marshal, requesting him to ride forward at once.This he did without loss of time.
Marshal de Bay had taken up his quarters at Badajos, and onarriving in the town, Desmond alighted at the governor's house.
"It was a stupid mistake of mine," the head of the staff said, "insending you on detached duty. I forgot at the moment, when Inominated you, that your knowledge of the locality would beinvaluable to us. I only thought of it yesterday when, on themarshal asking for some information on this matter, I pulled outyour report. He examined it and said, 'This is very complete andvaluable, Colonel. Whom is it made by?'
"'By an officer of your staff, sir, Captain Kennedy.'
"'Where is he?'
"'He is coming down with the Toledo column, sir.'
"'Please send for him at once,' he said. 'One of the others shouldhave been detached for that service. He is just the man we wanthere.'
"Accordingly we sent for you, and here you are."
"This is an excellent report of yours, sir," the duke said, whenthe colonel introduced Desmond to him. "As we came down, I noticedthat the roads had, in many cases, been thoroughly repaired at thepoints mentioned in your report as being particularly bad, and thebridges in many places greatly strengthened. Had it not been forthat, I do not know how I should have got my guns along.
"And now, sir, I want to ask you a few questions as to the road onthe other side. By your report, I see that you consider the roadthrough Campo Mayor to be the only one by which an army couldmove, and that a large body of workmen must be employed to makethe other road fit for the passage of cannon."
He then asked a number of questions concerning this road.
"I see," he said, "you have marked several places, in your report,where an enemy coming down that road could post themselvesstrongly, and others which might be defended to advantage by us."
"Yes, sir; but of course, the suitability of those places woulddepend largely upon the respective strength of the armies."
The marshal nodded approvingly.
"From all I hear from our agents in Lisbon," he said, "the enemy'sforces will be superior to our own in numbers, but the mainportion are Portuguese, who have shown very little fight,hitherto. Their cavalry are almost entirely Portuguese. The onlyreally fighting portion of their forces are the English and Dutch,who are most formidable foes; but against these we have our Frenchregiments, on whose bravery we can rely. Were it not that I thinkthe Portuguese will probably, as at the battle of Almanza, fly assoon as the engagement begins, I should fall back and take up astrongly defensive position. As it is, in spite of their superiornumbers, I think we can meet them on an equal field."
The conversation lasted over an hour, and then Desmond retired,leaving Colonel Villeroy with the marshal. As he left the house,an officer standing at the door seized his hand.
"My dear Kennedy," he said, "who would have thought that we shouldhave met again here!"
Desmond staggered back. He could not, for a moment, believe theevidence of his eyes and ears.
"Why, O'Neil, I thought you were dead."
"I am worth a good many dead men, yet," the other one laughed."Let us go into this wine shop and crack a bottle. We can thentalk over matters quietly."
"And O'Sullivan, is he alive too?" Desmond asked.
"No, poor fellow. He has never been heard of since that tremendouslicking we got. There is not a shadow of hope."
Then many questions were asked, on both sides; and when these wereanswered, Desmond said:
"Now about yourself, O'Neil. I thought I was the only one that gotthrough safe."
"So you were, for the other three of us were all on our backs."
"But we did not hear of you as among the prisoners, of whom a listwas furnished by Marlborough."
"No; the name of Patrick O'Neil did not appear. I was shot throughthe body, and during the night I lay insensible, but in themorning I opened my eyes and began to think. It seemed to me thatthe name was not one that would be likely to please. In the firstplace, because it was evident, by my age, that I was not one ofthe Limerick men; in the next place, because of that little matterof my escape from the jail in London. I had no fear of being shot.I should be a prisoner of war, but I should not be likely to beover kindly treated, and when they exchanged prisoners I shouldcertainly not be one of those sent back. You see, what withBlenheim and Ramillies and Oudenarde, they had taken ten of ourofficers for every one of their officers captured by us, so Ithought it best to pass as a French officer.
"It was easy to do so, as my French was good enough to passanywhere, and, you see, I had on a French staff uniform. Luckilymy horse had been shot at the same time as I was. He was lyingdead beside me, and within reach of my arm, so that I was able tolean over and get my flask from one of the holsters. I had aterrible thirst on me, and could have drunk a barrel.
"As I heard no firing, I knew that the fighting was over; and intwo or three hours a party came along with a stretcher, having adoctor with them. When he saw that my eyes were open, and that Iwas alive, he examined my wound and shook his head.
"'He is badly hit,' he said, 'but you may as well carry him in.'
"So they took me into Oudenarde, which had been turned into a bighospital.
"'You are not to speak,' the doctor said to me, before they liftedme up. 'You must keep yourself perfectly quiet.'
"When they got me into the hospital, they found a hole behind aswell as in front, which I heard one of the doctors say was a goodthing. They dressed the wounds and left me. I could see by theirfaces, the next time they came, that they were surprised to see mealive. One of them said to the other:
"'The bullet must have passed through him without touching anyvital point. He may do yet.'
"He bent down, and asked me in French what my name was, and I said'Victor Dubosc, lieutenant;' so they stuck a card with my nameover my bed, and asked me no more questions. I lay there for sixweeks, and then I was well enough to get up and walk about.
"Three weeks later, I went down with some other convalescents toOstend, and there we were embarked, and taken to Portsmouth. Thenwe were put in boats and rowed to Porchester, which is a place atthe end of a sort of lake behind Portsmouth. There was an old
castle there, with a mighty high wall, enclosing a lot of ground,where there were huts--rows of them--all filled with ourprisoners. Some of the huts were a little better than others, andthese were for the use of officers. A regiment of soldiers was intents outside the walls, and a hundred men were always on guardwith loaded muskets.
"I said to myself, often and often, 'If Kennedy were here, hewould soon hit upon some plan for getting away;' but for the lifeof me, I could not see how it was to be managed. It was a dulltime, I can tell you. The food was bad, and the cooking was worse.Only a few officers were there, most of them being sent to someplace a long distance inland; but, as we were all wounded, Isuppose they thought that the loss of blood would keep us quiet.
"One of the officers, having a little money hidden about him,bought a pack of cards from an English soldier, and we passed mostof our time playing; but it was poor work, for we had nothing toplay for. At last, I said to myself, 'Patrick O'Neil, there mustbe an end of this or your brain will go altogether. It is notworth much at the best of times, or it would have thought of someplan for getting out of this place before now.'
"At last, I hit on a plan. It was a dangerous one, there was nodoubt of that; but as I was desperate, I did not think much of thedanger. The worst they could do was to shoot me, which I supposeis what they would have done. My idea was to pounce suddenly onone of the sentries, who kept guard all night; to gag him, and tiehim up, before he could give the alarm; and then to dress up inhis clothes, and take his matchlock.
"But the difficulty was, what was I to do next. The soldiers cameon duty for twelve hours, coming in at six in the morning andgoing out at six in the evening.
"It was clear to me that it could only be done in the dark, and Ihad to wait for nearly two months. It was the beginning of Octoberbefore it was dark enough, at six in the morning, for me to fallin with the others and march out without being noticed.
"At last, the time came. I stole out of my hut an hour before thechange would be made, and crept along quietly, till I heard asentry marching up and down between our huts and those of thesoldiers. I had torn up a blanket into strips, and twisted themtogether to make ropes; and with these in one hand, and a bigpiece ready to shove into his mouth in the other, I stole up closeto him; and when he turned his back to me, I jumped upon him.Luckily, instead of carrying the musket on his shoulder, he had itunder his arm, so that I was able to seize the lock with one hand,and clutch him by the throat with the other. I gripped prettyhard, and the man, in half a minute, slipped down to the ground.
"Before he could recover, I had stripped off his coatee and cloak;then I tied his hands and feet, fastened the gag firmly in hismouth, and dragged him in between two huts, where he would not befound till morning. Then I took off my own coat and threw it overhim, for the night was chilly, and put on his cloak and shako, andtook his place.
"In half an hour I heard a tramp of men, and knew the relief hadentered. Then there was a bugle call, and two or three sentriespassed towards the entrance. I ran on, too. When they fell in, Imanaged to get in the last section. Some sergeants ran down theline counting the men, and reported that all were present. Thegates were opened, and we marched out.
"As soon as we got among the tents, we fell out, and I had nodifficulty whatever in getting off without being observed. Leavingmy musket and shako behind me, I went up a long lane which broughtme on to the main road, crossed that, climbed a hill beyond, andcame down into a wooded country.
"At the first cottage I came to, I stopped. A man and woman cameout on my knocking. They looked kindly and good tempered, and Itold them a pitiful story, about how I had been unjustly accusedof striking an officer, and had been sentenced to two hundredlashes; and that I had managed, in the night, to cut a slit in theback of the guard tent and escape.
"As I had been walking along, a sudden thought had struck me. AtOudenarde, I was wearing the same boots I had worn when we werecaptured together. When we took the money out, we each left, ifyou remember, five pieces of gold in one of our boots, which I hadnever thought of till that day; and, as I came along, I opened thesole and took them out. It was a perfect godsend, as you mayguess.
"The man and his wife expressed such sympathy that I did nothesitate to say: 'I want to get rid of my coatee, and of thiscloak. The coatee would be of no use to you, and you had best burnit, but the cloak, if you alter it, might be useful; or, if you cutit up, will make a cover for your bed. I will give you that and agold piece--it is a French one I got in the wars, but you can changeit easily enough, when you go into the town marketing--if you willgive me a suit of your clothes.'
"This the man readily consented to do, and the woman set before mea large bowl of milk, and some bread, which I ate as soon as I hadput on a pair of breeches, smock, and broad hat. Now I feltperfectly safe. They might send news all over the country of theescape of a French officer, but as I had never spoken a word ofEnglish, from the time that I was taken, no one would suspect acountryman speaking English to be the man whom they were in searchof.
"After leaving the cottage, I travelled quietly to Rye. I thoughtit best to go there, for it was likely that it would be difficult,elsewhere, for an unknown man to get a passage to France, and itstruck me that the man who took us across before, would carry meover the first time he was going with despatches. I found himeasily enough, and though I was not dressed quite in the same wayas I was when we called on him before, he recognized me at once.
"'Another job for me?' he asked.
"'Not a special one,' I said. 'I am going across again, but thereis no occasion for you to make a special trip, and indeed myemployer forgot to give me an order upon you. I should have goneback, if I had remembered it, but I thought you would not mindgiving me a passage the next time you sailed across.'
"As the man remembered that we had made ourselves pleasant onboard, he agreed at once to take me, next time the boat should begoing. I laid out a pound in getting a coat more suitable fortravelling in France than the peasant's smock. Then I took alodging in a small inn.
"Three days later, a messenger came down with an order for the manto take him across at once, and as the captain charged me nothingfor my passage, I had enough left to pay for my place in adiligence, and on arriving in Paris duly reported myself, at thebarracks, as having returned.
"My first enquiry, of course, was about you and O'Sullivan. Ifound that he had never been heard of, but that you had lost ahand, and had been promoted to a captaincy; had been very ill, andhad gone to the south of France on sick leave.
"After I heard that, I remained for two or three months at thedepot, and then learned that the Duke of Berwick had just arrivedfrom Dauphiny. I at once went to see him. He told me he could notput me on his staff again, as his numbers were complete, but wouldgive me a letter to the Duke of Orleans, asking him to employ mein that capacity. When I got down here, I found that the duke hadleft, and that the Marshal de Bay was in command.
"On reading Berwick's letter, he at once appointed me one of hisaides-de-camp. You were away, I found to my great disappointment,and I was sent off into Catalonia, with orders for four battalionsto be sent at once to Badajos. I arrived here yesterday, in timefor the shindy."
"Fortunately, O'Neil, I do not think there is much fear of anotherOudenarde. There is no royal duke here, to interfere with ourgeneral; and the Portuguese are not to be compared with theHanoverians, and Dutch, and the other allies that fought againstus there."
"I hear, from the others, that you have been occupied inreconnoitring the country."
"Yes, and I was captured, but was fortunately able to give themthe slip."
Desmond did not care to tell even his friend that his escape wasdue to the kindness of the British general.
The next morning, Desmond was sent off to hurry up a body oftroops which was still some seven or eight marches away. The newshad come that the allied army was in motion, and would probablyconcentrate near Portalegre. This seemed to show that theyintended to invade Spain by Badajos, and the
valley of theGuadiana; for, had their aim been to advance up the valley of theTagus, to Madrid, they would have marched towards Montalvao, andso on by Alcantara to Almarez.
After two days' hard riding he met the column, which, on receivingthe order from the marshal to hasten forward with all speed,performed double marches until they arrived at Badajos. Desmondfound that the allies had not wasted their time, and that theiradvance guard was already at Campo Mayor. The Spanish army wereposted on the Caya river, a stream that flowed down from thesierra, and fell into the Guadiana at Badajos.
Their position was a defensive one. The army of the allies wasknown to be some twenty-two thousand strong, of whom some fivethousand were cavalry. The Spanish had about the same strength ofcavalry, but were inferior in infantry. The number of guns alsowas about equal, both sides having about forty cannon.
On the 7th of May, the two armies faced each other on oppositesides of the river Caya. As neither party made any movement ofadvance, Marshal de Bay determined to force on an engagement, andsent orders to the cavalry to cross the river, and to placethemselves on the road between the enemy and Campo Mayor.
The allies suffered, as the French had done at Oudenarde, byconflicting counsels. The Earl of Galway was in command of theBritish, and of two or three Dutch regiments. The Marquis deFrontiera was in command of the Portuguese, who formed by far thegreater portion of the force, and, as soon as the movement wasseen on the other side of the river, he determined to cross andattack the Spaniards.
The Earl of Galway was strongly of opinion that it would not bewise to take the offensive, but that the army should remain in itspresent position, until the intentions of the enemy were clearlyascertained. Their cavalry, he urged, could do little bythemselves, and it was evident that the infantry could not beattacked while they remained under the shelter of the guns of thefortress. The Marquis de Frontiera, however, and the otherPortuguese generals, were unanimous in insisting that battleshould be given at once, and the former gave orders for thePortuguese cavalry, with a body of foot and five field pieces, tomarch immediately.
Seeing that, if unsupported, this force must meet with disaster,the Earl of Galway reluctantly ordered the troops under hiscommand to advance. The river was fordable, and they met with noopposition, until they crossed it and formed up in order ofbattle. The Portuguese horse were now divided on each wing, theBritish were in the centre; a portion of the Portuguese infantrywere on either flank, the rest were in the rear.
"Captain Kennedy, you will carry my orders at once, to ourcavalry, to charge the Portuguese horse on the right wing."
Desmond saluted, and was about to ride off, when he paused amoment and asked:
"May I charge with Brigadier Crofton's dragoons, sir?"
The marshal nodded, and Desmond galloped off. Crofton was incommand of the first line of cavalry. His own regiment, which wascomposed partly of Irishmen and partly of Spaniards, was in thecentre of the line.
After delivering his orders to the general commanding the cavalry,Desmond rode on to Crofton.
"The cavalry are going to charge, sir," he said, "and I havepermission to ride with you."
Crofton waited until the order from the general arrived, and then,drawing his sword, shouted, "The first brigade will charge," and,riding forward, led the way against the Portuguese horse, whosecannon had already opened fire. The Portuguese fell into disorderas soon as they saw the long line of horsemen charging down onthem like a torrent, and when it neared them broke and fled. Theywere soon overtaken, great numbers were cut down, and theremainder galloped off, a panic-stricken mob, and did not drawrein until they reached Campo Mayor.
The Spaniards at once turned the five cannon the fugitives hadleft behind them upon the allied infantry, and then, after a fewrounds had been fired, the cavalry charged the British infantry.But they had now foes of a different metal to reckon with, andalthough, three times, the horsemen reformed their ranks andhurled themselves against the infantry, they were each timerepulsed with heavy loss.
Then, swerving round, they fell on the Portuguese infantry in thesecond line, whom they dispersed as easily as they had defeatedthe cavalry.
The Earl of Galway now brought up the brigade of Brigadier GeneralPierce, which consisted of the two British regiments of Barrimoreand Stanwix, and a Spanish regiment which had been recently raisedand named after himself. These charged the enemy with greatbravery, drove back their infantry for some distance, recoveredthe five guns the cavalry had lost, and, still pressing forward,fought their way deep into the centre of the Spanish ranks.
Had they been supported by the Portuguese infantry, on theirflank, the battle might still have been won. But the latter, inspite of the persuasions and orders of their officers, refused toadvance, and, turning their backs, made off in confusion, althoughnot yet attacked by the enemy. Orders were then sent to thePortuguese horse on the left to charge to the assistance ofPierce's brigade. But instead of doing this, they also gallopedoff the field, and after defending themselves with desperatevalour for some time, the little brigade, being unsupported, andbeing surrounded by the whole strength of the Spaniards, wasforced to surrender.
In the meantime the Earl of Galway, seeing that the battle waslost, through the cowardice of the Portuguese, was preparing towithdraw his men, and had only despatched Pierce's brigade tocheck the advance of the enemy while he did so. Seeing that these,by their ardour, were irretrievably cut off, he gave the order tothe Marquis Montandre to draw off the British infantry, who aloneremained firm, and against whom the whole of the French andSpanish forces now advanced; while he himself with a small body ofcavalry, charged into the midst of the enemy in hopes of reachingPierce's brigade and drawing it off.
Although weakened by the loss of that brigade, attacked on bothflanks as well as in front, and frequently charged by the Spanishhorse, among which Crofton's dragoons were conspicuous for theirbravery, the retreating British maintained admirable order.Occasionally, when severely pressed, they charged the enemy andbeat them back; till they were able to withdraw from the fieldwith comparatively trifling loss, thus saving the flyingPortuguese from annihilation. As at Almanza, the whole of thefighting, and almost all the loss, fell upon the English, althougha considerable number of the Portuguese were cut down in theirflight, before the Spanish cavalry returned to join in the attackon the retiring English. The allies had, altogether, seventeenhundred men killed or wounded, and two thousand three hundredtaken prisoners, of whom fifteen hundred were Pierce's brigade;and eight hundred Portuguese, who were cut off by the cavalry.
Among the prisoners were the Earl of Barrimore, all the officersof Pierce's brigade, Lord Pawlet, one of the earl's aides-de-camp,two of his pages, and his master of horse.
After the battle was over, and Desmond had rejoined the marshal,he was sent to ride over the field, and ascertain who had fallenand what prisoners had been taken. Night was already coming on,and, after fulfilling his mission as far as was possible in theconfusion, he came upon two Spanish soldiers, with a prisoner.
"Whom have you there?" he asked, in Spanish.
"I don't know, sir. We found him lying under his horse, which, inits fall, had so pinned down his leg that he could not escape.Several others had fallen round him, and it was only when we hearda cry for help that we turned the dead horse over, and found himunder it, and then got him out."
Standing close, there was light enough for Desmond to distinguishthe prisoner's features. He gave a slight start of surprise, thenhe said:
"You have done well, my men. Here is a doubloon, to get some drinkwith your comrades when you get into the town. I will look afterthe prisoner."
The men saluted and went off, well pleased to have got rid of thetrouble of marching their prisoner into the town. Mike, rathersurprised, moved up to take charge of the captive.
"My lord," Desmond said, "I will now endeavour to repay thekindness you showed me.
"Do you see that little hut, Mike, just at the edge of thosetrees? You must hide the ea
rl there. Our cavalry are still allover the country, hunting down fugitives."
The earl, who was scarcely able to walk, his leg having beeninjured by the weight of the horse upon it, murmured his thanks,but did not speak again until they had entered the shed, whenDesmond said:
"Now, General, I will first cut down your riding boot, to easeyour leg. Then, if you will lie down in that corner, we will pilethis firewood over you. It will not be safe for you to attempt togo forward for two or three hours yet. I have a report to make toMarshal de Bay. When I have handed it in, I will return at once.
"Mike, do you stay near the hut, and if any searching party shouldcome along, which is scarcely likely, for they have all gonefarther afield, you can say there is no need to search the hut, asyou, with an officer, have already examined it."
In a few minutes, the earl was completely hidden. Desmond thenrode into Badajos, and delivered his report to the marshal. Hethen went to the stables, took out his spare horse, and, leadingit, rode out to the hut again.
"Has anyone been here?" he asked Mike.
"Not a soul, sir."
"Take the horses into the wood, then, and stay with them for thepresent. It will not be safe for the earl to move for a couple ofhours.
"Now, General," he went on, as he removed the firewood, "I fearthat you have been very uncomfortable."
"I can hardly say that I have been comfortable, sir, but that isof no consequence. The pain in my leg has abated, since you cutthe boot open.
"And now, how can I express my gratitude to you, for thussheltering me?"
"It is but a fair return of services, sir. You gave me my liberty,and I am doing my best to restore yours to you."
"It is all very well to say that, Captain Kennedy. I am thegeneral in command of the British forces in Portugal, and had Ichosen to openly release you, none could have questioned me. Itwas only because some magnified report of the affair might havereached the ears of the Portuguese Government, and given rise torumours hostile to me, that I thought it best to let it appear tobe an accidental escape. You see, I am by no means popular withthe Portuguese. In the first place, I am a Protestant; and in thenext place, I am constantly bringing pressure to bear upon them,as to the supply of provisions, the making of roads, the properfeeding and arming of their own troops, and other matters of thesame kind; and they would be only too glad to have some cause ofcomplaint against me.
"But your case is altogether different, for you are risking evenyour life in thus aiding me to escape."
"That may be, General, but it was nevertheless my duty, as amatter of conscience, to endeavour to return the kindness that youshowed me; and as, at present, your army will hardly be in a stateto take the field against us for a long time, I do not feel that Iam seriously injuring our cause."
"Well, sir, I shall be your debtor for life.
"Do you intend to remain always an exile, Captain Kennedy?" theEarl of Galway went on. "It seems to me little short of madnessthat so many gallant gentlemen should cut themselves altogetheradrift from their native country, and pass their lives fighting asmercenaries. I do not use the word offensively, but only in itsproper meaning, of foreigners serving in the army of a nation nottheir own. Nor do I mean to insult Irish gentlemen, by evenhinting that they serve simply for pay. They fight for Francemainly in the hope that France will some day aid in setting JamesStuart on the British throne; a forlorn hope, for although Louismay encourage the hopes of the Stuarts and their followers, bypatronizing their cause, which it suits him to do because it giveshim the means of striking at England, by effecting a landing inScotland or Ireland; it is yet a matter upon which he must beindifferent, save in his own interest, and in the advantage itgives him of keeping in his service some dozen or so splendidregiments, on whose valour he can always rely."
"That is true, sir," Desmond replied; "and I own I have no greathope that, by the means of French assistance, the Stuarts willregain their throne. But what could I do if I were to return toIreland? Beyond the fact that my name is Kennedy, I am in absoluteignorance as to what branch of that family I belong to, and havepractically not a friend in the country. Were I to land inIreland, I have no means of earning my living, and shoulddoubtless be denounced as one who had served in the Irish Brigade.I own that I should be glad to return there, for a time, in orderto make enquiries as to my family. I was but sixteen when I left,and was kept, as it seems to me, purposely, in total ignorance onthe subject. It may be that I was the son of a brave officer ofthat name, who certainly came over to France soon after I wasborn, and fell fighting some years before I came out; but I haveno proof that it was so, and would give a great deal to be able toascertain it.
"In Ireland they think a great deal of genealogy, and I am oftenquestioned, by Irishmen of old descent, as to my family; and findit extremely awkward to be obliged to own that I know nothing ofit, with any certainty. I have no desire to pass my life inbattles and sieges, and, if I survive the risks and perils, tosettle down as a Frenchman with an Irish name."
"That I can well understand," the earl said. "'Tis a life that noman could desire, for it would certainly be a wasted one. I canassure you that I think the chance of James Stuart, or hisdescendants, gaining the throne of England is remote in theextreme. When William of Orange came over, there was no standingarmy, and as James the Second had rendered himself extremelyunpopular by his Catholic leanings, he became possessed of Englandwithout opposition, and of Ireland by means of his Dutch troops.The matter is entirely changed, now. England has a strong army,against which a gathering, however strong, of undisciplined mencould have but little chance. I conceive it possible that aCatholic Stuart might regain the throne of Ireland, if backed by aFrench army, and if the people were supplied with French arms andmoney. But that he would retain the throne, after the French werewithdrawn, I regard as next to impossible."
"I cannot but think the same, sir. However, as I see no chance ofmy being able to go to Ireland, even to push my enquiries as to myfamily, there is nothing for it but to remain a soldier ofFrance."
"In that matter, I might assist you, Captain Kennedy. I have nodoubt that my influence, and that of my friends in England, wouldwithout difficulty suffice to gain permission for you to visitIreland on private business, on my undertaking that you have nopolitical object whatever in desiring to do so, and that youengage yourself to enter into no plots or schemes for a rising.Furthermore, I think I can promise that, if you succeed in yourresearches, and find that you have relations and friends there, Icould, if you desire it, obtain a revocation of any pains andpenalties you may have incurred, and a restoration of all yourrights as an Irishman. That is certainly the least I can do, afterthe vital service that you have rendered me--a service that, initself, shows you do not share in the bitter enmity so many ofyour countrymen, unfortunately, feel against England."
"I have no such enmity, assuredly," Desmond said. "The choice ofcoming out here, to enter the service of France, was not of my ownmaking; but was made, for some reason which I have never been ableto understand, by the gentleman who had borne the expenses of mybringing up, but who was himself a strong supporter of the Englishrule, and therefore would have been expected to place everyobstacle in the way of my entering the Irish Brigade."