The Irish Brigade in France

[Milesian]

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IT was the year 1685, James II had come to the throne of England and the governorship Ireland, bringing with him many changes that would fill his English subjects and Puritan settlers in Ireland with horror. His first act was to suspend the Penal Laws against Catholics and Dissenters. Furthermore, he decided to effect a reform in the government of Ireland. To accomplish this he sent over Richard Talbot, an Irishman and a Catholic, placing him in command of the army in Ireland and appointing him to the Lord Lieutenancy. Talbot, later known as the Duke of Tyrconnell, made radical changes in the army. The Puritan element was removed from the ranks, regiments were recruited from Irish Catholics and the Cromwellian officers were replaced by Irishmen. "I have placed the sword in your hands", he is reported to have said to the Irish Privy Council. Three thousand of these Irish soldiers were sent to England to reinforce James' army.

The arrival of Irish soldiers on English soil was regarded with horror by the English people. In this same way the the English settlers in Ireland received the numerous political changes that had been effected by Tyrconnell. All this was being watched from the Hague by the King's son in law, William of Orange. King James was warned by Louis XIV of France against William of Orange, a warning that was only resented. Then in 1688, William landed in England, and James' army melted away. Deserted by relations and friends, James ordered his army to be disbanded, and fled to France. The disbanded Irish soldiers made their way home the best they could, but it was clear that the issues between James and William would be decided in Ireland. To some of the Irish, complete independence, with James for King, seemed a not impossible hope.

The Irish nation declared for James, the English settlers in Ireland for William. Tyrconnell at once set about strengthening his army, and in two month's time fifty thousand Irishmen had enlisted. These men became known as "Tyrconnell's blackguards" to the Williamites. Many in their ranks were barely clothed and shoeless. Wisps of hay or straw bands on their heads were worn instead of hats. They were, however, "the material which, later, drilled and armed, was to form the Irish Brigade in the service of France, and prove the best fighters in Europe".

War was declared and James soon arrived from France, to be greeted with foolish enthusiasm by the Irish people, who saw him as the deliverer of the country. James, whose only real desire was the recovery of the English crown, saw Ireland only as a pawn. William sent his army to Ireland and prepared for his campaign. Louis sent seven thousand French regulars to James in exchange for five thousand Irish soldiers that had been sent to France. James then assumed command of his forces, with the direct command being given to various French generals. The French officers varied in quality, and French commitment to the war was sporadic. James would prove a poor military leader and would eventually desert his Irish army. They would gallantly fight it out without him until October 5th, 1691, when, being out-numbered and out-gunned, they were forced to surrender.

William's terms were favorable, and the Irish army was allowed to leave in possession of its colors, arms and equipment, and was brought to France by its commander, Patrick Sarsfield. James' army was eventually dissolved by the Treaty of Ryswick in 1698, but the brigade of Irishmen that had originally been sent in 1688, kept separate from Sarsfield's men, became an integral part of the French army and remained in its service. The brigade's numerous casualties were replaced by a steady stream of volunteers from Erin. Recruiters slipped into the island and had little problem enticing poor country lads, who under the harsh Penal Laws had been reduced to virtual serfdom, to enlist. Since it was illegal for the Irish, considered British citizens by the Crown, to join foreign armies, the recruits for the French service were listed as "Wild Geese" on ship manifests. Heavy with unspoken symbolism, these men would be known forever after by that name.

For a hundred years this Irish Brigade served the French army. Names like Fontenoy, and the names of many other of the great battle-fields of Europe fill their list of battle-honors. They won glory and the highest honors for themselves and for Ireland, and the undying respect of friend and foe alike. The Brigade was dissolved in 1791 by the revolution. In 1792 the Count de Provence (afterwards Louie XVIII) presented the remnant of the Brigade with a "farewell banner," bearing the device of an Irish Harp embroidered with shamrocks and fluer-de-lis. The gift was accompanied by the following address:--

[b] Gentlemen, we acknowledge the inappreciable services that France has received from the Irish Brigade, in the course of the last 100 years; services that we shall never forget, though under an impossibility on requiting them. Receive this Standard as a pledge of our remembrance, a monument of our admiration, and our respect, and in future, generous Irishmen, this shall be the motto of your spotless flag:--

1692-1792

Semper et ubique Fidelis"

(Always and Everywhere Faithful)

[Milesian]

Fontenoy
—by Thomas Davis

* Note: Fontenoy is about a battle in France between the English/Dutch and the French. The Irish Brigade was part of the French Army then; and, after the treaty of Limerick about 20,000 Irishmen left Ireland to join France's army because they thought they had secured a treaty that would give their people equal rights, instead the British tore up the treaty and started the penal laws. The Irish in the French Army then took on the battle cry "Cuimnidh ar Luimneach agus ar Feall na Sasanach!"— Remember Limerick and the Saxon Faith (i.e., English betrayal). At Fontenoy (1745), there was a major battle which the French were losing; the French decided to retreat and sent the Irish Brigade forward to cover that retreat. Instead the small Irish Brigade charged against the unimaginably huge British ranks, they got cut down with every volley but they kept charging and eventually won the day for the French Army who were still retreating. The British started retreating and the only ones left on the battle field was the Irish Brigade.

Thrice, at the huts of Fontenoy, the English column failed,
And, twice, the lines of Saint Antoine, the Dutch in vain assailed;
For town and slope were filled with fort and flanking battery,
And well they swept the English ranks, and Dutch auxiliary.
As vainly, through De Barri's wood, the British soldiers burst,
The French artillery drove them back, diminished and dispersed.
The bloody Duke of Cumberland beheld with anxious eye,
And ordered up his last reserve, his latest chance to try;
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, how fast his generals ride!
And mustering come his chosen troops, like clouds at eventide


Six thousand English veterans in stately column tread,
Their cannon blaze in front and flank, Lord Hay is at their head;
Steadly they step a-down the slope-steadly they climb the hill;
Steadly they load-steadly they fire, moving right onward still,
Betwixt the wood and Fontenoy, as through a furnace blast,
Through rampant, trench, and palisade, and bullets showering fast;
And on the open plain above they rose, and kept their course,
With ready fire and grim resolve, that mocked at hostile force:
Past Fontenoy, past Fontenoy, while thinner grow their ranks-
They break, as broke the Zuyder Zee through Holland's ocean banks.


More idly than the summer flies, French tirailleurs rush round;
As stubble to the lava tide, French squadrons strew the ground;
Bomb-shell, and grape, and round-shot tore,
Still on they marched and fired —
Fast, from each volley, grenadier and voltiguer retired.
"Push on, my household cavalry!" King Louis madly cried.
To death they rush, but rude their shock-not unavenged they died.
On through the camp the column trod-King Louis turns his rein:
"Not yet, my liege." Saxe interposed, "the Irish troops remain;"
And Fontenoy, famed Fontenoy, had been a Waterloo,
Were not these exiles ready then, fresh, vehement, and true


"Lord Clare," he says, "you have your wish, there are your saxon foes!" The Marshal almost smiles to see, so furiously he goes!
How fierce the look these exiles wear, who're wont to be so gay!
The treasured wrongs of fifty years are in their hearts to-day-
The treaty broken, ere the ink wherewith 'twas writ could dry,
Their plundered homes, their ruined shrines, their women’s parting cry,
Their priesthood hunted down like wolves, their country overthrown, —
Each looks, as if revenge for all were staked on him alone.
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, nor ever yet elsewhere,
Rushed on to fight a nobler band than these proud exiles were.


O'Brien's voice is hoarse with joy, as, halting, he commands,
"Fix bay'nets," — "Charge" —
Like mountain storm,rush on these fiery bands!
Thin is the English column now, and faint their volleys grow,
Yet, must'ring all the strength they have, they make a gallant show.
They dress their ranks upon the hill to face that battle-wind —
Their bayonets the breakers' foam; like rocks, the men behind!
One volley crashes from their line, when, through the surging smoke,
With empty guns clutched in their hands, the headlong Irish broke.
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, hark to that fierce huzza!
"Revenge! remember Limerick! dash down the Sacsanach!"


Like lions leaping at a fold, when mad with hunger's pang,
Right up against the English line the Irish exiles sprang:
Bright was their steel, 'tis bloody now, their guns are filled with gore;
Through shattered ranks, and severed files, and trampled flags they tore: The English strove with desperate strength, paused, rallied, staggered, fled
The green hill-side is matted close with dying and with dead.
Across the plain, and far away passed on that hideous wrack,
While cavalier and fantassin dash in upon their track.
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, like eagles in the sun,
With bloody plumes the Irish stand-the field is fought and won!