Kings of the Boyne (22 page)

A
nd so it was, twenty-three years after the ‘Battle of the Boyne’, that the elderly King Louis XIV lay on his death bed, shrivelled, wrinkled, tufts of long white strands of hair lifting away from his bony skull, when the arrival of his grandson was announced.

The king, who had summoned the child, nodded to have his heir brought before him. Accordingly, the five-year-old, for that was all he was, was ushered in past the relatives, family friends and his future colleagues, who stood about idly, talking in whispers, awaiting the end of an era.

The little boy showed no surprise at the sight of such a large, conspicuous audience. He nodded solemnly to his parents as he passed them. His nanny was somewhere in the background and that was a comfort to him. She had promised him the biggest slice of cake if he didn’t misbehave.

Well, he would show her.

Perhaps the last person he identified was his grandfather, swaddled in clothes and blankets in the towering four-poster bed. It had been a while since he had seen him, but
even he would have agreed that his grandfather was no longer the grand old man he had known.

Feeling himself being gently pushed, the boy stepped forward somewhat uncertainly, unsure of what he should say. His grandfather seemed so very far away from him, the bed being so high and vast, and he was fairly sure that he was not allowed to shout. But what if his grandfather could not hear him if he had to say something? Could he not shout then if he did it politely?

Just then, a low stool was moved to the side of the bed and a pair of strong hands easily lifted the child, guiding him to stand on it.

Ah, that’s better. The boy smiled in heady relief. He and his grandfather could see each other properly, and he was almost sure that there would be no need to shout now.

Dutifully he kissed the pre-offered ancient hand as the breathless king asked, ‘Do you understand that you are to take my place?’

Having been prepared for this question, the little boy proudly answered, ‘Yes, Grandfather!’

A moment of silence followed, and the onlookers grew uneasy that the man had already slipped away. However, he stirred himself once more to tell France’s new king: ‘I have loved war too much. You must do better.’

July was a significant month for the Jacobites and Williamites. It was July 1689 when the siege of Derry ended with William's ships finally rescuing the starving city of Derry from the massive Jacobite army outside her walls.

Just a year later, in July 1690, there was the now infamous battle over the Boyne, and this time it was the Jacobites who were the underdogs, bound to fight an improbable battle with inferior weapons and numbers.

During my research I discovered the Offaly teenager Gerald O'Connor, a Jacobite, and let the story begin with him and his reasons for being in Drogheda that day, blending the scant facts about his life with fiction.

On the Williamite side, the Sherrard brothers – Robert and Daniel – made a welcome return from my novel about the siege of Derry,
Behind the Walls
. In December 1688 they had helped to close the gates of Derry against James's army, and in
Kings of the Boyne
I sent them to join Reverend George Walker to fight for King William down south.

When I heard about Jean Watson, the widowed mother
of six, I thought I might one day write an adult novel about her walk from Down to Drogheda. Then, when I got badly stuck in an early draft, I could not keep from including her in these pages.

From the moment I was asked to write this book I knew I wanted to feature the kings involved: James and William, uncle and nephew, father and son-in-law, with Louis XIV lurking in the background.

Readers should be aware that there was another shadowy figure, Pope Alexander VIII, who gave the Protestant William money. He was motivated by hatred of Louis XIV, the Catholic French monarch who appeared to see himself as a sort of god.

Of course the story of the warring Jacobites and Williamites does not end here.

Instead, it is the third July, 1691, which sees the final clash of this Glorious Revolution, at the battle of Aughrim in Galway. With over seven thousand fatalities, this is recognised as the bloodiest battle in Irish history and it marked the end of Jacobitism in Ireland.

James fled Ireland for France after the Battle of the Boyne, leaving the battle at Aughrim to his supporters. His last child, and fourth daughter, Louisa Maria Teresa, was born in 1692. Four years later there was an unsuccessful attempt, by some supporters in England, to assassinate William that only served to make James even more unpopular. Perhaps he clung onto his dream of sitting once more on the English throne because he turned down Louis XIV’s offer to make him king of Poland. In his château, in Saint-Germaine-en-Laye, he surrounded himself and his family with luxurious objects, paintings and first-class musicians to attract and impress visitors who should always feel that they were in the presence of royalty.

When he died of a brain haemorrhage, on 16 September 1701, James’s heart was placed in a locket and given to a convent while his brain was placed in a lead casket for
the Scots College in Paris. His entrails were split between two urns, one for the local parish church and the other for an English Jesuit college. Lastly, flesh from his right arm was given to the English Augustinian nuns in Paris. Whatever was left was not buried, however; instead his coffin was placed in a side chapel where lights continually burned around it until the 1789 French Revolution.

William became withdrawn following the death of his wife, Queen Mary, James’s eldest daughter, in 1694. As king he had his enemies of course, but plenty more attest to his generous charities and concern for the tenants on his estate. A keen rider and hard worker, he was also known as a great patron of the arts. He died from pneumonia following a fall from his favourite horse, Sorrel. Legend has it that the horse stumbled into a mole burrow and that Jacobites raised a glass to toast the burrow’s little owner. William was succeeded by his sister-in-law Anne, James’s second eldest daughter, who was queen of England, Scotland and Ireland from 1702 until her death in 1714.

Louis’s reign of seventy-two years and one hundred and ten days is the longest of any monarch in Europe.

A devout and pious Catholic, Louis believed in expanding France’s – and, therefore, his – territory with war. Like William, his bitter enemy, Louis was a great patron of the arts and was known to have been a fine dancer in his younger days. He danced in forty major ballets and, in some of his portraits, those familiar with ballet steps might recognise certain poses that he strikes. It would appear he loved promoting his very image, commissioning vast amounts of art, including three hundred formal paintings of himself.

His health had never been strong and he kept his three physicians busy. They maintained a meticulous journal of his ailments and treatments. One operation left him with a wound that did not close for two months. He died of gangrene four days before his seventy-seventh birthday in September 1713 and was laid to rest in a basilica outside Paris.

DERRY, 1689.

An anonymous letter is read out saying that every last Protestant man, woman and child is to be murdered. Panic takes hold.

Two teenage boys, Daniel and Robert Sherrard, help close the city gates against the approaching Catholic army.

The siege has begun.

Bombs rain down. Behind the walls, tensions grow day by day.

Trapped, the people are injured, dying, starving.

But there is no going back

Daniel and Robert are drawn into a fight to the end.’

‘That calm, sunny day is one I’ll always remember … because the twentieth of April, in the year 1910, was the day I, Samuel Joseph Scott, died.’

Fifteen-year-old Sam plunges to his death whilst building his beloved
Titanic
. Now as the greatest ship the world has ever seen crosses the Atlantic Ocean, Sam finds himself on board – as a ghost. His spirit roams the ship, from the glamour of first class to the party atmosphere of third class. Sam shares the excitement of Jim, Isobel and their children − on their way to a new life in America.

Disaster strikes when Titanic hits an iceberg.

As Titanic sinks to her icy grave, Jim and his family are trapped behind locked gates …

Can Sam’s spirit reach out and save them as time runs out …?

Nicola Pierce published her first book for children,
Spirit of the Titanic
, to rave reviews and five printings within its first twelve months.
City of Fate
, her second book for children, transported the reader deep into the Russian city of Stalingrad during World War II. The novel was shortlisted for the Warwickshire School Library Service Award, 2014.
Behind the Walls
, a rich emotional novel set in the besieged city of Derry in 1689, followed in 2015. To read more about Nicola, go to her web page,
www.nicolapierce.com
.