echanics and mathematicians of this age have
not invented a flying bridge to fling over the sea and land from the
coast of France to the north of Ireland, it was not easy to conceive how
the French should conquer Carrickfergus--and yet they have. But how I
run on! not reflecting that by this time the old Pretender must have
hobbled through Florence on his way to Ireland, to take possession of
this scrap of his recovered domains; but I may as well tell you at once,
for to be sure you and the loyal body of English in Tuscany will slip
over all this exordium to come to the account of so extraordinary a
revolution. Well, here it is. Last week Monsieur Thurot--oh! now you
are _au fait_!--Monsieur Thurot, as I was saying, landed last week in
the isle of Islay, the capital province belonging to a great Scotch
King, who is so good as generally to pass the winter with his friends
here in London. Monsieur Thurot had three ships, the crews of which
burnt two ships belonging to King George, and a house belonging to his
friend the King of Argyll--pray don't mistake; by _his friend_, I mean
King George's, not Thurot's friend. When they had finished this
campaign, they sailed to Carrickfergus, a poorish town, situate in the
heart of the Protestant cantons. They immediately made a moderate demand
of about twenty articles of provisions, promising to pay for them; for
you know it is the way of modern invasions to make them cost as much as
possible to oneself, and as little to those one invades. If this was not
complied with, they threatened to burn the town, and then march to
Belfast, which is much richer. We were sensible of this civil
proceeding, and not to be behindhand, agreed to it; but somehow or other
this capitulation was broken; on which a detachment (the whole invasion
consists of one thousand men) attack the place. We shut the gates, but
after the battle of Quebec, it is impossible that so great a people
should attend to such trifles as locks and bolts, accordingly there were
none--and as if there were no gates neither, the two armies fired
through them--if this is a blunder, remember I am describing an _Irish_
war. I forgot to give you the numbers of the Irish army. It consisted of
four companies--indeed they consisted but of seventy-two men, under
Lieut.-colonel Jennings, a wonderful brave man--too brave, in short, to
be very judicious. Unluckily our ammunition was soon spent, for it is
not above a year that there have been an