The British artillery were planted on the edge of the mora.s.s, but so mingled were the two parties that they were unable to fire. Great numbers of the English were killed. Colonels Earl and Herbert, with many officers and men, were taken prisoners, and the remnant of the British were driven completely across the bog, to the shelter of their own cannon.

While this was pa.s.sing in the centre, another division of Ginckle's army, consisting of English and French infantry, had crossed the bog by a pa.s.sage more to the right. They also had met with no opposition in pa.s.sing, and it was only when they reached the hedges, on the firm ground, that the Irish showed themselves, fired, and retreated. This division, more cautious than that of Earl, could not be tempted to pursue, but contented themselves with maintaining their ground under a heavy fire, awaiting anxiously the arrival of the British horse. They could see, however, no sign of them, but could perceive the Irish cavalry descending in large ma.s.ses, preparing to charge, while the infantry were forming for an advance.

So far the Irish had been successful at every point. They had repulsed every attack made by the British left; had crushed the brigade, composed of the flower of the British infantry, which had a.s.saulted the centre; and were now preparing to destroy the division which stood, unsupported, on their side of the bog.

At this moment, a tumult was heard on the left wing of the Irish, the direction from which the British division expected relief, and the Irish, aware of the importance of the pa.s.s of Aughrim, suspended their attack to await the events there.

Saint Ruth had directed the operations of the battle with as much skill as he had prepared for the a.s.sault. He had taken up his position on a point of the hill whence he had a complete view of the whole field of battle, and had moved his troops, with calmness and judgment, to meet each of the attacks made upon them; and when he saw the destruction of the English regiment in the centre, he exclaimed, in the full confidence of victory, "Now I will drive the English to the walls of Dublin!"

There was, indeed, but one hope, on the part of the English, of retrieving the day; namely, the success of the attempt to force the pa.s.sage at Aughrim. But two hors.e.m.e.n abreast could pa.s.s under the castle walls. Saint Ruth was aware of the pa.s.sage, but thought it impa.s.sable for cavalry. It might easily have been made so, by cutting a deep gap across it; but here, as at Athlone, his overconfidence proved his destruction.

He had, however, taken the precaution to erect a battery commanding the pa.s.sage, and had placed some battalions of infantry there.

General Talmash, who commanded the English cavalry, knew that the battle was lost, unless he could succeed at this point; and, at the head of his command, he led the way along the pa.s.s, which was not only narrow, but broken and enc.u.mbered with the ruins of the castle wall. Saint Ruth beheld the attempt of the cavalry with astonishment, and, with the remark: "They are brave fellows, it is a pity they should be sacrificed,"

sent orders for the Irish horse to move forward and prepare to charge them; and moved down the hill at the head of his officers to the battery.

There is no doubt as to what the result would have been, had the Irish horse charged. They were greatly superior in number, and the English cavalry who had got across the pa.s.sage were still in confusion, and were suffering from the fire of the battery, and, indeed, even when in equal numbers, William's cavalry had never withstood the charge of the Irish.

It seemed that nothing could avert the defeat of the body on which Ginckle's last hope rested.

But at this moment one of those events, by which Providence overrules the calculations of man, occurred. A cannonball struck Saint Ruth, as he stood in the middle of the battery and killed him instantly. The occurrence paralysed the Irish army. Sarsfield was away, there was no one to give orders, the news that some extraordinary calamity had happened spread rapidly, the men in the battery ceased firing, the cavalry, receiving no orders to charge, remained immovable.

Talmash took advantage of the pause to get the rest of his cavalry across the pa.s.sage, and then, with his whole force, moved towards the centre. As he approached, the idea that the unknown calamity, of which they had heard, was that the British had defeated their own left, spread among the Irish, and they began to fall back. The British column on the edge of the bog advanced, Ginckle pushed several fresh battalions across the mora.s.s in the centre, and the Irish infantry fell back, disputing every inch of the ground.

The cavalry were still without orders, for strangely enough, no one a.s.sumed the command on the death of Saint Ruth. As night came on, the retreat of the Irish infantry became a rout, but the cavalry halted on the summit of Kilcomeden, and covered the retreat.

The extraordinary circ.u.mstance, of the Irish army being left without orders after the death of Saint Ruth, has never been explained. The command should have devolved upon Sarsfield, but none of the accounts of the battle speak of him as being present. He had certainly not been consulted by Saint Ruth, and had not been present at the council of war before the battle; for the bad feeling, which had existed between him and Saint Ruth since that general arrived, had broken out into open dispute since the fall of Athlone. But it is inexplicable that there should have been no second in command, that no one should have come forward to give orders after the death of the general, that a victorious army should have been left, as a flock of sheep, without a shepherd.

Up to the moment of the death of Saint Ruth, the loss of the British had been very severe, as they had more than two thousand men killed and wounded, while that of the Irish was trifling. But in the subsequent struggle the Irish, fighting each man for himself, without order or object, were slaughtered in vast numbers, their loss being estimated by the British writers at seven thousand men, a number which points to wholesale slaughter, rather than to the loss which could have been inflicted upon a brave army during little over an hour of daylight.

But, crushing as the defeat of the Irish had been, the victory was far from inspiring William or his army with the confidence they had felt at the outset of the war. Here, as at Athlone, it was almost a miracle which had saved the English from a terrible disaster. The Irish had proved themselves fully a match for the best soldiers that William could send against them, and, although their infantry had suffered terribly in the rout, their ranks would be speedily filled up again; while the cavalry, the arm in which the Irish had uniformly proved their superiority, had moved away from the field of battle intact and unbroken. Athlone and Aughrim therefore rendered William and his general more anxious than ever to bring the struggle to an end, not by the force of arms, but by offering every concession to the Irish.

The imminence of the peril had cowed even the party of confiscation, and they offered no opposition to the issue, by Ginckle, of proclamations renewing the offers of William. Ginckle himself moved forward, immediately after the battle, and granted the most liberal terms to the garrisons of the various small posts which he came upon. On arriving before Galway, he permitted that town and garrison to surrender on the terms of a pardon for all, security of property and estate, freedom of religious worship, and permission for the garrison to march away to Limerick, with drums beating and colours flying, the British furnishing horses for the transport of their cannon and baggage.

Chapter 15: A Fortunate Recognition.

After the capitulation of Galway, Ginckle moved towards Limerick. King William, who was absent on the Continent, was most anxious for the aid of the army warring in Ireland, and the queen and her advisers, considering that the war was now virtually over, ordered transports to Ireland to take on board ten thousand men; but Ginckle was allowed a month's delay.

He himself was by no means sanguine as to his position. The Irish army was still as numerous as the British, and they were not discouraged by their defeat at Aughrim, where they considered, and rightly, that victory had only been s.n.a.t.c.hed from their grasp by an accident. Ginckle relied rather upon concession than force. The Irish were divided into two parties, one of which earnestly desired peace, if they could obtain fair terms, while the other insisted that the British could not be trusted to keep any terms they might make. Sarsfield was at the head of the war party, and succeeded, for the present, in preventing any arrangement.

Ginckle advanced slowly, for he had to march through a waste and desolate country. Sarsfield, with his cavalry, hovered round him, and intercepted his communications, and he was so short of draught horses that it was only by forcing the gentry of Dublin to give up their carriage horses, for the use of the army, that he was enabled to move forward.

It was not until the end of August that he sat down with his siege train in front of Limerick, and prepared for the siege. For the moment, the party in favour of peace among the Irish had been silenced by the news that twenty large ships of war, with a great number of transport and store ships, were being pushed forward at Brest and other French ports to come to their a.s.sistance.

Ginckle occupied the same ground which William's army had taken up in the first siege, but directed his attacks chiefly upon the English town. As before, the Irish communication was open with the county of Clare, and the seventeen regiments of Irish horse were encamped on the Clare side of the river. Ginckle pushed on his works with great vigour, and the duty in the trenches was so severe, that the cavalry were compelled to take their turn with the infantry; but, notwithstanding that the siege artillery was much more powerful than that which William had at his disposal, but little progress was made. The town was set on fire several times; but the flames were speedily extinguished, and, as the inhabitants had all left the city and erected tents on the Clare side, under the protection of their cavalry, little harm was done to them.

While the siege was going on, a number of desultory engagements took place, in different parts of the country, between the Protestant militia which had been lately raised, and the bands of rapparees, with varying success.

The season was getting late. Ginckle was again becoming straitened for provisions, for the proclamations which he issued failed to inspire the peasantry with any confidence. He now erected a battery, of thirty-five guns, against King's Island; and, after an incessant cannonade of some days, a breach was effected in the wall between the abbey and b.a.l.l.sbridge. Preparations were made for crossing the arm of the Shannon and a.s.saulting the breach; but the works constructed for crossing the river were repeatedly destroyed by the Irish, and the idea of a.s.sault upon the breach was, at length, abandoned. So desperate did Ginckle now think his position, that he issued orders for the repair of the fortifications of Kilmallock, intending to raise the siege and establish his winter quarters there; but he postponed taking this step for a few days, for to do so would be to bring almost certain disaster upon his army.

The French fleet was expected to arrive shortly, and the Irish, reinforced with men, arms, and supplies of every kind, would probably resume the offensive during the winter, and he would find himself cut off from all supplies and a.s.sistance. He determined, therefore, to make one more effort before retiring.

He had, throughout the siege, been in communication with several Irish officers of high rank, and especially with General Clifford, who commanded the cavalry posted on the river opposite to his camp. These officers were as desirous as he was of bringing the war to an end, for they foresaw that if, after the arrival of the French, they succeeded in driving the English out of the country, Ireland would simply become a dependency of France, and they preferred the English connection to this.

Ginckle determined to try, again, the same feint which had succeeded at Athlone. The workmen were kept busy repairing the works at Kilmallock, and preparing that place for the reception of the army. The greater portion of the baggage, and a regiment of Danes, were sent forward to that town. The batteries ceased firing, and the cannon were dismounted at several points, and the Irish were persuaded that the siege was about to be abandoned.

Meanwhile, Ginckle was busy collecting boats, and preparing a bridge across to a small island, which lay not far from the Clare side of the river. On a dark night, the boats were brought up and the bridge constructed, and, led by six hundred grenadiers, a strong force of infantry, cavalry, and artillery crossed to the island, and then waded through the shallow water beyond to the mainland.

A few men, posted on the island, carried the news to Clifford, but he gave no orders to the four regiments of cavalry and two of infantry under his command, nor did he send any notice to the camp. Some of the infantry and cavalry, however, ran without orders to the bank, and kept the grenadiers in check until the British cavalry had crossed, and compelled them to fall back. The British cavalry then dashed forward to the Irish cavalry camp, which they took completely by surprise. Panic stricken at this unexpected attack, the soldiers and the citizens in the town camp fled in all directions, and, great numbers rushing to Th.o.m.ond Bridge, entered the city by that narrow approach.

Had Ginckle at once pushed forward, he would have captured almost the whole of the Irish officials and civilians on the Clare side of the river; but, fearing an ambuscade, he halted his troops before advancing to the Irish camp, and this gave time for most of them to escape. Being afraid that the garrison would sally out from the town, and attack his lines on the other side of the river, he recrossed the Shannon with his troops, carrying with them a crowd of civilians, among them a number of persons of rank, and officials with the records and public treasure.

The confusion and surprise in the town were so great that the Irish generals took no steps whatever, either to hinder his pa.s.sage back across the river, or to attack either portion of his divided army. They knew that treachery must have been at work, to have enabled the enemy to surprise the camp, and, as they could not tell how far that treachery extended, they abstained from all action.

Captain Davenant's troop had shared in the disaster inflicted by the night attack upon the cavalry camp. All were asleep when the English cavalry burst upon them. Taken utterly by surprise, and ignorant as to the strength of the force by which they were attacked, there was no thought of resistance. Officers and men leapt from the piles of rushes, which served as beds, and rushed to their horses. The English troopers were cutting and hewing in all directions, and, cutting the picket ropes, each man sprang on his horse and rode for his life.

Captain Davenant had, at first, shouted to his men to keep steady; but his words were lost in the din which prevailed, and, seeing that nothing was to be done, he said to Walter:

"It is all over, Walter. We must ride for it, like the rest."

By morning, the Irish cavalry was scattered all over the country, and it was not for two or three days that they again a.s.sembled in regiments, presenting a sorry sight, the greater part having lost saddles and accoutrements of every kind. A few troops, composed of men who had been fortunate enough to have left their horses saddled when night came on, were sent back to Limerick. The rest drew off towards Ennis, and encamped there until they could procure saddles and accoutrements to take the field again.

In Captain Davenant's troop there were but six men who had saved their saddles; and, as it would have been useless to send so small a detachment to Limerick, these remained with the troop, and were, at Walter's request, placed entirely at his disposal, in order that with them he might make scouting expeditions in the enemy's rear. He had permission to consider himself entirely on detached service, and to join any body of rapparees he might choose; but this Walter did not care about doing, for he had a horror of the savage acts which were perpetrated by the irregular forces on both sides, and determined to confine himself to watching the roads, bringing in news of any convoys which might be traversing the country, and cutting off messengers going or returning with despatches.

The service was one of no great danger, for parties of peasants were on the watch, night and day; and, the instant any movement was observed, they started off at full speed to warn all the inhabitants of the surrounding villages to drive away their cattle, and carry off their effects into the hills or into the heart of some neighbouring bog, where the cavalry would not venture to penetrate.

One day when, with his little band, he was halting at a village, some ten miles in rear of the camp, a peasant ran in.

"A party of their horse have just seized some carts laden with potatoes at Kilcowan, and are driving them off. The boys are mustering to attack them on their way back."

"It is too bad," Walter exclaimed. "Only three days ago, Ginckle issued another proclamation guaranteeing that no provisions, or other goods, should be taken by his soldiers without payment.

"To horse, lads! We will ride out and give the peasants a helping hand, if they really mean to attack the enemy."

Kilcowan was two miles away and, having learned from the peasant that the people intended to attack at a point where the road pa.s.sed between two hills, a mile and a half beyond the village, he galloped on at full speed. He arrived, however, too late to take any part in the fight. The peasants had rushed suddenly down the hillsides, armed with scythes and pikes, upon the convoy as it pa.s.sed below them. Several of the cavalry had been killed, and the rest were riding off, when Walter with his troopers dashed up. They continued the pursuit for a mile, cutting off a few stragglers, less well mounted than the rest, and then returned to Kilcowan, where the peasants had just arrived in triumph with the rescued carts of potatoes.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, when the excitement of the welcome, accorded by the women to the captors, had subsided a little. "You may expect a strong body to be sent out, tomorrow, to punish you for this."

"It's the general's own proclamation, your honour. Didn't he say, himself, that his soldiers were not to stale anything, and that they would be severely punished if they did? And didn't he guarantee that we should be paid for everything? He could not blame us for what we have done, and he ought to hang the rest of those thieving villains, when they get back to him."

"I wouldn't be too sure about it," Walter said. "He issued a good many proclamations before, but he has never kept the terms of one of them. If I were you, I would leave the village--man, woman, and child--for a few days, at any rate, and see how the Dutchman takes it."

But the villagers could not be persuaded that the Dutch general would disapprove of what they had done, and Walter, finding his arguments of no avail, rode off with his men to the village they had left, an hour before; with the parting advice that, if they would not follow his counsel, they should, at any rate, place watchers that night on the roads towards Ginckle's camp, to bring them news of the approach of any body of the enemy's cavalry.

But the villagers were too delighted with their day's work to pay much heed to Walter's warning, and, after a general jollification in honour of their victory, retired to rest, thoughtless of danger.

It was getting dark when Walter reached the village where he had determined to stay for the night. He ordered the men to keep the saddles on their horses, and to hitch them to the doors of the cabins where they took up their quarters, in readiness for instant movement. He placed one mounted sentry at the entrance to the village, and another a quarter of a mile on the road towards Kilcowan.