d rivers.
The travellers had to pass several fords where the water was breast
high. Some of the party fainted from fatigue and hunger. All around lay
a frightful wilderness. In a journey of forty miles Avaux counted only
three miserable cabins. Every thing else was rock, bog, and moor. When
at length the travellers reached Omagh, they found it in ruins. The
Protestants, who were the majority of the inhabitants, had abandoned it,
leaving not a wisp of straw nor a cask of liquor. The windows had been
broken: the chimneys had been beaten in: the very locks and bolts of the
doors had been carried away, [190]

Avaux had never ceased to press the King to return to Dublin; but these
expostulations had hitherto produced no effect. The obstinacy of
James, however, was an obstinacy which had nothing in common with manly
resolution, and which, though proof to argument, was easily shaken by
caprice. He received at Omagh, early on the sixteenth of April, letters
which alarmed him. He learned that a strong body of Protestants was in
arms at Strabane, and that English ships of war had been seen near the
mouth of Lough Foyle. In one minute three messages were sent to summon
Avaux to the ruinous chamber in which the royal bed had been prepared.
There James, half dressed, and with the air of a man bewildered by
some great shock, announced his resolution to hasten back instantly
to Dublin. Avaux listened, wondered, and approved. Melfort seemed
prostrated by despair. The travellers retraced their steps, and, late in
the evening, reached Charlemont. There the King received despatches very
different from those which had terrified him a few hours before.
The Protestants who had assembled near Strabane had been attacked by
Hamilton. Under a truehearted leader they would doubtless have stood
their ground. But Lundy, who commanded them, had told them that all was
lost, had ordered them to shift for themselves, and had set them the
example of flight, [191] They had accordingly retired in confusion to
Londonderry. The King's correspondents pronounced it to be impossible
that Londonderry should hold out. His Majesty had only to appear before
the gates; and they would instantly fly open. James now changed his
mind again, blamed himself for having been persuaded to turn his face
southward, and, though it was late in the evening, called for his
horses. The horses were in a miserable plight; but, weary and half
starved as they were, they were saddled.