CHAPTER XVII.

THE INTERVAL FROM JULY 1ST TO THE 12TH.

From its central position on the principal river of the country, Athlone, at any period of the war, was of the utmost importance to either belligerent; its loss to the Irish cause was, at this particular crisis, a misfortune almost irreparable. It was the main link in that chain of fortresses which the Irish generals had early recommended as a base of operations, from which they could indefinitely prolong the war, and eventually roll back the tide of invasion. Their successful defence of it since the battle of the Boyne had tended to strengthen that belief, for, notwithstanding the incessant assaults of the enemy, not a link in the chain had been broken, and every attempt to sever it had resulted in his repulse or discomfiture.

Well has the Shannon been termed the "principal feature of the island:" nay more! in a military sense it is the key to it. Though most of its principal garrisons are approachable by roads at all seasons; yet, by reason of its high winter floods, rising towards the beginning of October, and scarce ever receding until the end of May; with its islands and adjacent callow lands completely inundated, it appears throughout its whole length a chain of extensive lakes, completely hiding its main channel, and greatly limiting the number of assailable points throughout the intervening period. The possession of Limerick, too, by the native army, deprived the invader of the advantage of any craft, save such as could be improvised in the interior, and against the action of cannon these were almost or totally unserviceable. There were, therefore, only five or six months of the year during which the invading army could prosecute a vigorous campaign along its environs, and with its garrisons in a proper state of defence, with the native army lying conveniently behind them, and the other three provinces open to its incursions at will, all the power of England alone were incompetent to the reduction of the country.

Deeply impressed with this conviction, the defence of Athlone had been tenacious, and desperate even to recklessness.63 Other considerations, too, tended to heighten the importance of this siege. It was the opening event of the campaign; it was carried on under the eye of their new general, of whom fame had spoken so loudly, and above all, it was hoped that a successful result would remove all misgivings from the mind of the French monarch as to the wisdom of his advocacy, and prompt him to immediate and more effective intervention. But the fall of Athlone at once dashed all these bright anticipations. The mind of Louis, continually warped by the misrepresentations of de Lausen and Louvois, had from the beginning wavered on the sustenance of the war; the ill success of his generals had been hitherto attributed to the intractability of the native race; deceived by the subterfuge, he adopted the accusation, and would, it might now be inferred, refuse any further support to a cause whose fate was already foreshadowed. Nor could it be doubted that the error of St. Ruth, though too palpable for evasion, would have its palliation, while the brave men whom his pride and arrogance had cheated out of assured victory, would again be the victims of covert calumny.

It is no wonder, then, that the Irish soldiers felt the loss of Athlone with a grief bordering on despair, and the Irish officers with a rage strongly savoring of mutiny. To those it seemed as though they were to be perpetually the dupes of every adventurer in search of a reputation, and to these, that their dearest liberties weighed as nothing, and that their country was but as a diversion from the military chess-board of Europe, and they deemed the neglect of St. Ruth a crime scarce less detestable than covert treason. To all it was an overwhelming calamity, opening at once to the tread of the invader the province which they had so long and so gallantly defended, and which until this day they could proudly claim as their country.

It is extremely painful, after the lapse of nearly two hundred years, to revive the weaker traits of St. Ruth's most singular character: for it would be far more congenial, in view of his subsequent career, to revive in him a bright reputation than a clouded one. He came to the country in good faith; he gave his life as an earnest of his sincerity in her behalf; and his ashes lie with those of her best and bravest on their last great battle-field for civil and religious liberty. That he planned it skilfully and fought it well, all admit; that it was lost only by the "special interposition of Providence," is generally conceded. He was brave, intrepid, and collected, in that moment which tries true heroism, and his fate still awakens a sympathetic chord in the breast of every generous Irishman. It should be remembered, too, that his name was one of hatred to the French Huguenots of the time, who sold their services to every country at war with their lawful sovereign, and came to Ireland as the crusaders of that religious ascendency they failed to establish in their own. From them the English historians who have treated of this war, have taken their estimate of St. Ruth's character; and such of the Irish historians, too, as advocate "Protestant ascendency and the dependency of Ireland upon England." Deeply imbued with the hatred of French influence in the island, the dissertations of such chroniclers on individual character is persistently in accordance with that feeling. With them the character of Tyrconnell and St. Ruth are alike the subjects of bitter and unmeasured sarcasm; that of the one, because he is said to have first advanced the theory of a French protectorate over the country; and that of the other, simply because he was the servant of their enemy, and a Frenchman; and so much, if not all of their testimony in this connection, may be regarded as either studied falsehood or gross exaggeration.

On the other hand, this policy of Tyrconnell is that which most endears his name to the Irish race, and wins it the general approbation of the native historian. And the wisdom of that policy has grown on them, age after age, until it has at last settled into a faith, that they are to be one day freed by the armed intervention of the enemy of their oppressor. This, too, may account in a great measure for the sympathy manifested by our native historians for the misfortunes of St. Ruth; for, in treating of him, the calamities consequent on his errors seem to be forgotten, and faults that, if committed by a native general, would call forth execrations, are touched so delicately, that one can scarce know which to applaud or to condemn.

Yet, weighing all these, and many other extenuating causes, there still stands out testimony, abundant and reliable, that his errors were ruinous to Ireland, and that in him a great soul was clouded by a most inordinate vanity; that his conduct towards Sarsfield was unwise and untimely, alienating from him the heart of that devoted soldier, and destroying that mutual confidence so indispensable to success; that the position of Tyrconnell as commander-in-chief was a canker in his heart, and not as regarded military affairs only, but that he persistently denied him that courtesy and consideration due to his age, his services, and his position as deputy: but, above all, that through his folly he lost Athlone, and precipitated the country's fate, at a time when a strong hope pervaded every breast, when the army had reached a high standard of efficiency, and after he himself, exultant in its valor, had pronounced it invincible.

Resting his character on its antecedents at this particular juncture, no special pleading could shield it from obloquy. But following it to the end, and coupling his faults with the heroic efforts he made to redeem them, the heart, deeply touched by his vicissitude, cannot restrain its sympathy; and that his memory can thus hold the heart divided between love and hatred, between disgust and admiration, is still the great singularity of his character. At one moment it would seem that he held the cause he championed unworthy of his desert, and had concluded to let it go by default; while the next, he appears to be impressed with its importance, and is seen imparting hope and animation to all around him. Yet over all his arrogance and folly a native nobility of soul predominated, and well had it been for his fame, and for the country that holds his ashes, had some reverse of a less serious nature overtaken him at a period less critical in its history and in his.

But whatever were the foibles of St. Ruth, from his advent in the country to his retreat from Athlone, we have now to look on an entirely different character. There he had learned, though at a fearful cost, that his name had no fears for his potent adversary; that deeds alone were to be the test of high emprise; and that his folly had narrowed down the campaign, and indeed the whole war, to the last resource of fallen heroes;—death or victory. With this feeling, all that was vainglorious in his character at once disappeared; the mist was removed from his mind, and it shone out to the end of his short career, as that of a true hero in adversity. Unlike his French predecessors, he scorned to hide his faults behind the shield of calumny, he candidly acknowledged his error, and bitterly lamented it. He became courteous to his officers, affable to his soldiers, changed at once from the despot to the patriarch, and touched by his sorrows, as much as by their own calamity, they again rallied round him, and determined on a final throw for religion and liberty.

On the evening of the first of July he reached the town of Ballinasloe, about ten miles south-west of Athlone, crossed the river Suck into the County Galway, and drawing out his army along its western bank, determined to await the enemy and stake his cause on the issue of a pitched battle. Here the ruinous effects of his late reverse became painfully apparent. The army that a few weeks before had marched from Limerick twenty-three thousand strong, buoyant in hope and spirit, was now reduced to less than fifteen thousand men. The cavalry was still powerful and efficient, having suffered little during the interval, but out of nearly nineteen thousand infantry he mustered somewhat less than eleven thousand, and the morale of the men had also deteriorated.64 Still, his determination was fixed, and his spirit rose, even as his difficulties multiplied. In order to remove the disadvantages of divided command, Tyrconnell now resigned his position as commander-in-chief, but determined to lend all his influence and power to recruit the army and follow its fortunes to the end. This self-sacrifice on the part of the viceroy produced a reconciliation quite beneficial to the cause, and satisfactory to the general, but the feeling between himself and Sarsfield, never cordial, now bordered on mutual hatred, deepening to the last, and at the last was fatal.

Being now invested with entire military control, St. Ruth caused the garrisons of the Upper Shannon to be dismantled, drew in his outposts, and made speedy requisitions for men and munitions. Jamestown and Lanesborough were at once abandoned; Shannon Bridge, Banagher, and Portumna were each reduced to a nominal garrison; Galway sent a regiment, and Limerick all that could be spared from its defences, which were few, for the enemy had still ten thousand regulars, and a strong force of militia in Munster, and a desultory warfare, fierce and incessant, raged throughout the counties of Cork and Kerry, down to the vicinity of Limerick. A requisition for troops was also made on the Pretender, Balldearg, now holding court between Tuam and Athunree, surrounded by a force variously estimated at between eight and ten thousand. But this redoubtable chief would neither furnish the required levy, nor make any movement to discomfort the enemy; preserving at once his masterly inactivity and his worthless person.

With his scouts and pickets well advanced towards Athlone, St. Ruth established his quarters in Ballinasloe, to await his reinforcements, and to give his troops that rest so necessary after the toils and privations of the last month.—That Galway was Ginckle's objective point scarcely admitted of a doubt; but then there were other routes to it, as practicable, though not so direct, as that on which St. Ruth had taken up his position, and he determined to hazard no further movement while the intentions of his adversary remained a matter of conjecture. Here, then, we will leave him to the duties now imperative: to recruit and resuscitate his army, and restore that spirit and discipline so necessary to the coming event, and return to take note of what was transpiring in the English camp.

Ginckle betrayed no undue haste in following up his adversary; although his previous movements were indicative of a persistency scarce admitting of a moment's cessation. Athlone being once in his possession, he determined to make it his base of operations against the remaining province, and to hazard no advance until he saw it in a proper state of defence.—With his army drawn up on the ruins of the Irish town, he awaited the disappearance of St. Ruth, and when no longer apprehensive of renewed hostilities, he withdrew it again across the river to its encampment. The burial of his dead claimed his earliest attention, and this day being the anniversary of The Boyne, the evening witnessed its first celebration in all the pomp and circumstance of war. Bonfires blazed on the adjacent hill-tops; the names of William and Mary were duly glorified, and peals of musketry and salvos of artillery continuing far into the night, "proclaimed their conquest to the vanquished Shannon." His sick and wounded were next sent to Dublin and placed under the care of the most eminent army surgeons, while all that could contribute to the comfort of the hale, became subject of immediate requisition. On the 2nd, Paymaster Robinson arrived at the camp with several "cart-loads" of specie, and the whole army received full arrear of pay, and further promises of reward and booty, while pressing demands were made on the Lords-Justices for reinforcements to fill up its ranks to the regular standard. After this day, magazines, stores of ammunition, food, provender, and liquors began to arrive hourly, and one-half the army, divided into relief parties, were vigorously at work clearing away the débris of the siege; repairing breaches, raising ramparts, while reinforcements, now pouring in from all available posts, were placed in their allotted regiments and subjected to hasty and rigorous discipline. The garrisons left in their rear, and those along the Shannon, which had been abandoned by the Irish, were manned with native militia, and four of St. Ruth's cannon were mounted on carriages and added to his already enormous train of artillery.

On the 4th, as the works approached completion, he sent out a party under one Higgins, "a converted priest," and a native of that locality, to reconnoitre the Irish position; but, being attacked by a picket-guard in the wood of Clonoult, fifteen of them killed, four taken prisoners, the rest escaping with their worthy leader, who was himself "sadly wounded." At length, on the evening of the 6th, orders were issued to the army to be ready at dawn next morning in marching order, and with fifteen rounds of ammunition to a man; and, on the morning, the whole army crossed the river and drew out beyond the town, where they again went into encampment to await Ginckle's final preparations.

The Dublin commissioners had not yet taken cognizance of the situation, and, as usual, after such events, were preparing another of those parchment manifestoes, which, under a specious verbiage, were meant to delude the people, and to affect their cause as fatally as bomb or bullet. It was a proclamation of amnesty, and began with:—"Since it hath pleased Almighty God," &c., &c.—It offered pardon to all private soldiers;—with pay for their horses and furniture,—who within three weeks would surrender themselves to the commander-in-chief; and to colonels who would surrender their regiments, and to governors who would surrender their garrisons within the same period; and to such of the inhabitants of Limerick and Galway, in particular, as would be instrumental in delivering up said places, pardon and possession of their estates,—"where it could be done;" and that all such soldiers, captains, colonels, governors, etc., should be received into their Majesties' service and pay; and that "as soon as their Majesties' affairs would permit," a Parliament would be called, when they would endeavor to secure their protection from "religious persecution," etc.—It praised the mildness of the English Government,—as the proclamations of to-day do,—denounced the tyranny of France,—another favorite theme.—It was given at the Castle of Dublin, July 7th, 1691, signed by Porter and Coningsby, and ended with—"God save the King and Queen."

With this was issued, by way of supplement, an address from Ginckle himself; more brief and more pertinent, offering rewards to deserters from the royal army, who would renounce their allegiance, and take service under his standard. To soldiers serving without pay, as those of the Irish army had been for several months, this twofold inducement of amnesty and reward was a terrible temptation; but it had little or no effect. The defection caused by St. Ruth's misconduct before Athlone had already done its worst, and the desertion rather tended to O'Donnell behind them, than to Ginckle in their front. Others, preferring a middle course, had joined the Rapparees, and the rest, true to their antecedents, resolved to retrieve their cause in the field, or depart the country forever.

Of the manifesto of the Lords-Justices, it may be finally said, that had it been meant in good faith, it would have won for them a very fair claim to justice and humanity. But when it is known that all their proffers were illusory, and that their subsequent conduct was cruel beyond description; that the lands to which they had promised reinstatement had already been sequestrated beyond redemption; that the plighted faith of themselves, the general, and their sacred Majesties were wantonly violated; and that a hundred years of more than barbaric cruelty elapsed after their "Majesties had found it convenient to convene a Parliament;"—the character of all—Lords-Justices, general, and "Sacred Majesties"—is too infamous for a single epithet.

On the same day that those proclamations were issued, Captain Villers returned from a reconnoissance, and reported St. Ruth as still holding the passes of the river Suck, and apparently determined to dispute them. But it being deemed advisable to give these missives time for the desired effect, a further postponement of action was the consequence, and the interval was spent in endeavoring to repress the excesses of the army. All religious exhortations having failed, a stringent military code was adopted. This held forth at once the severest punishment for crime, and the most liberal promises of booty and reward to the men, and of "lands and livings" to the officers. This comported so strangely with the "amnesty," etc., of the Lords-Justices, as to render it entirely nugatory, by exposing their covert hypocrisy in the same breath in which their manifesto was announced.

The morning of the 9th dawned bright and sultry, but towards noon the unusual drought of the last month was broken by a violent tornado. Trees were uprooted, houses levelled; several men and horses were struck dead by lightning; and the march of the army was suspended until the morning of the 10th; when, having left Colonel Lloyd with his own, and half of the Douglas's regiment in command of the town, Ginckle advanced as far as Kilcashel, seven miles farther westward, and encamped for the night. Taking a strong escort of cavalry, he advanced towards Ballinasloe, and found that St. Ruth had decamped from his position. Crossing the river and advancing to the hills of Dunloe, he ascertained that St. Ruth was still in the vicinity, for his outguards were seen hovering along the hills of Garbally, and retiring slowly as he advanced without offering any opposition. Continuing still to advance, he at length beheld the whole Irish army drawn out in line of battle upon an opposite hill, when, after a close inspection, he ordered a map of the ground to be prepared, and returned to the camp; when the Irish pickets again advanced, and occupied the hills along the western bank of the river. From Kilcashel he advanced to Ballinasloe the next day, and halted opposite the ground lately occupied by the royal army, where he summoned a council and submitted the result of his reconnoissance for the consideration of his generals.

Deeply impressed with the importance of St. Ruth's position, this council had serious misgivings as to the wisdom of pressing an engagement while he occupied it, and the necessity of adopting a more circuitous route was urged. But the majority considering that they had advanced so far that they could not recede without danger and disgrace, a forward movement was adopted, and the plan of battle finally arranged. It was, however, determined not to disturb their present encampment, lest the movement should be attended with a reverse, but to leave two regiments under Colonel Foulke for its protection, and that none should be allowed to proceed any farther, save such as bore arms. Ammunition was then distributed, the pioneers and grenadiers were ordered to the heads of their respective regiments, and it was arranged that the whole army should cross the river at daybreak, and be formed in array of battle by six o'clock, on ground already selected about a mile beyond it. The soldiers revelled, yet rested on their arms throughout the night, while the generals matured their plan, and the pass-word was—"Dublin."

St. Ruth remained several days on the river Suck, in a state of uncertainty as to whether Ginckle would advance directly on him, or, by taking a north-westerly route to Galway, induce him from the ground of his own selection. While there his army was also recruited by detachments from all the available garrisons still under his control; and he soon found himself again at the head of an army of 20,000 men. This force, according to the most reliable estimates, consisted of 16,000 foot of all arms and 4,000 horse; and the artillery, which had been greatly reduced by the reverse at Athlone, was now but nine brass field-pieces. Of this army, it may be said that the soldiers and officers of the subordinate rank were almost exclusively of the old Celtic race of the island, while the division and regimental commands were held by men of the same race, and by descendants of the Palesmen who had remained faithful to their king and country; and that at this time all, with hardly an exception, were of the Roman Catholic faith.

Having waited until Ginckle's design was clearly indicated, he decamped on the evening of the 9th,65 and retiring still farther westward, halted at the village of Aughrim, and as if he had already selected his ground, pointed to the hill of Kilcommodon, and announced that there he was determined to die or retrieve his fallen fortune.

From its marked inferiority in numbers and ordnance, the Irish army here, as at the Boyne, was compelled to act strictly on the defensive, and few places in that section of country were better adapted to this purpose than that which St. Ruth had now selected.

The hill of Kilcommodon, now known as the field of Aughrim, is about three miles south-west of Ballinasloe, and is the most considerable of an irregular chain of hills extending from the western bank of the river Suck for a distance of several miles in the direction of Galway. Its position is such, that if a straight line be drawn from Drogheda, on the east of the island, to Galway on the west, none of those memorable battle-fields in its history—Drogheda, The Boyne, Athlone, Athunree, or Galway—will deviate more than a mile from it, while most of them will be directly under it; and Aughrim adds still another link to that long chain of classic associations. Notwithstanding the many changes that time has wrought since the period under consideration, the hill and the country around it look still as sad and gloomy as the thoughts they impart, and few of the old race ever pass that way without uncovering the head and offering a fervent prayer—for, together with being the last battle-field for religion and liberty, which is sufficient in itself to awaken a melancholy interest, it is also remembered by them as the field of their unburied dead.

The hill from north to south is about a mile in length, and has nowhere an elevation of more than four hundred feet. Near its southern extremity stood the church of Kilcommodon and the house of Urrachree,66 the latter the more eastward and the more prominent feature in the events then pending; and at its northern extremity the village of Aughrim, and a castle of the same name, which, during the Cromwellian war, had been dismantled and untenanted. From its ridge to its base it was considerably less than half a mile of very gradual descent, and from the house of Urrachree to the Castle of Aughrim, along the middle of this declivity, nearly a mile and a half. Along its eastern base it was traversed by intersecting hedgerows, dividing its lower half into small fields of meadow and tillage; but from these up to its crest it was bleak, arid, and heath-covered. Outside of the hedges, and nearly parallel to them, extended a belt of marshy ground, of irregular width, scarcely exceeding a furlong at any point, through the middle of which flowed a small stream, irrigating it from end to end, losing itself in a large bog which lay on the north, and rendering the marsh difficult to infantry and impractical to cavalry. This marsh covered about two-thirds of the face of the hill, and lay closer up to Aughrim than to Urrachree, while outside of it the north-eastern side of the hill was further protected by a strip of moorland lying close to a bog, which protected it on the north and north-west. The road from Ballinasloe ran straight up to this moor, and diverged abruptly; one branch of it winding round by Urrachree, and on to Loughrea; and the other, running between the Castle of Aughrim and the northern base of Kilcommodon, led on to Kilconel, Athunree, and Galway. That by Urrachree ran all the way through firm upland; and excepting the confluents of the stream that watered the marsh, the hill on that side presented no more than ordinary obstacles to an advancing foe; but that which led to Aughrim offered considerable impediments from the manner of its formation. It lay through a common between the moor and the bog; narrow at its eastern side, and gradually expanding into an esplanade, or field, of four or five acres, and narrowing again, in its immediate approach to the castle, until it became passable for only three or four horsemen abreast.67—In fine, it may be said that, from the centre to the extreme right, this hill was no more than ordinarily defensible; but from that point round to the extreme left, it was well isolated, and, with little trouble, could have been rendered impregnable; at least to cavalry.

On this hill St. Ruth drew up his army, and encamped along its ridge; selecting as the site of his own tent one of two Danish raths that stood near its summit, and which commanded a view, not only of the hill itself, but of the country for several miles around it. On the morning of the 10th he formed his line of battle; his right resting on Urrachree, his left towards Aughrim, and his centre on its mid-slope between his camp and the hedgerows. Each division consisted of two front and two rear lines; the former of infantry, and the latter of cavalry; and in this position, with banners displayed and pickets well advanced to the river, he was observed by Ginckle during his reconnoissance on the same evening, and this he maintained until the morning of the 12th, to indicate to his enemy that he accepted and awaited the battle.

Such was St. Ruth's disposition, and such the ground which he had selected to countervail the vast superiority of his enemy in men and resources; and how far his skill contributed to that result now demands a passing notice. The hedges which wound along the base of the hill were in themselves no unimportant feature of defence for his infantry. But as some regiments of these were hastily raised levies, he had them also adapted to the offensive action of his cavalry, on which, from its well-established reputation, he had been led to place most reliance. They were accordingly opened at proper intervals, so as to admit of flanking and direct charges, both of infantry and cavalry, against such bodies of the enemy as should succeed in crossing the marsh and penetrating beyond any of these successive lines; and this disposition embraced the whole of his centre, and portions of his right and left. In the squares formed by these hedges his musketeers were to be stationed, while above them, in the direction of his camp, squadrons of his choicest cavalry stood opposite to each direct intersection, while the remainder of the hill, from these up to the camp, was cleared from all obstructions to the deploying of succors to either wing of battle. For the defence of the Castle of Aughrim and the pass which approached it, which were on his extreme left, he selected two regiments of musketeers and foot dragoons, and placed a battery of two pieces on an elevation between the castle and Kilcommodon, so directed as to rake the pass all the way between the esplanade and the grounds around the castle. On the side of Urrachree, where the country was open, and the hedges more broken and diversified, he ran additional connecting trenches, and placed some companies of musketeers in the house and its outer walls, which stood considerably in advance of his main line on that side. The seven pieces of artillery which remained, after detaching two for the defence of the pass at Aughrim, were disposed in the following manner: On the north-eastern face of Kilcommodon, almost over against the castle, was constructed a battery of three pieces, so directed as to throw a raking fire across the pass itself, a portion of the marsh, and the esplanade beyond it, to prevent the enemy's enlarging there; and the remaining four pieces were placed on his inner right, and directed over a portion of the marsh and the road leading up to Urrachree. But before his centre there were no cannon whatever; either because he deemed it less necessary, or that he wished to invite the enemy's infantry to cross, where he was sure to break them by repeated cavalry charges, and overwhelm them by his more agile infantry while recrossing the marsh in disorder. His line being quite an extended one for the number of troops under his control, he had no reserve of infantry, but a choice body of cavalry was held behind the north-western side of Kilcommodon, out of view of the enemy, within convenient support of his right, and actually but a rear line of his left, and extreme left at Aughrim.

As the battle of Aughrim, together with deciding the fate of Ireland and the dynasty of the House of Stuart, had also an indirect bearing, of scarcely secondary import, on the military affairs of the continent, it has been a subject of much more critical comment than that ordinarily bestowed on military events; and the historians of each successive period, down to the present, have visited the disposition of St. Ruth's army with praise or animadversion, each, no doubt, in accordance with his own peculiar views of what should or should not have been done by a general. While all approve the selection of the ground, as manifesting a keen perception of what a defensive position should be, nearly all censure some one or other of the arrangements made for its defence. His design of letting the enemy cross at his centre and beating them afterwards; the placing of his cavalry reserve so far from his right; and his neglect of the Pass of Aughrim, which was by nature so defensible; have been the subject of severe criticism, and the whole plan, or that of allowing the enemy to cross at any point, has been compared by the Duke of Berwick, to a similar error of the celebrated Marshal Crequi, which had been attended by a great disaster. But as the cavalry reserve had not been needed on the right during the action, and as all the enemy's forces which crossed at the centre had been successfully repulsed, the testimony of the duke, who was not on the ground, and of all who sustained that view, may be dismissed without comment. But what does really seem defective in his plan of defence, was the neglect of the Pass of Aughrim, which could have been rendered, with little labor, impregnable to either infantry or cavalry; and in view of his very inferior artillery, this omission seems totally irreconcilable, excepting on the ground that he believed the force left for its defence entirely adequate, as indeed they should have been, had they looked in time to their appointments.

Of the ground, also, it may be said that subsequent writers have attached more importance to it than it really deserved. Whatever features the hand of time may have defaced, it could never have been more than ordinarily defensible, excepting on its northern extremity, where it is still hemmed round by an extensive bog. Its advantages are thus briefly summed up in one sentence by the English chaplain: "Here we had a view of their whole army, posted as before described, by which posture they had the advantage by at least 1,000 men"68—no unusual advantage in the selected site of a battle-field.

Of the generals who commanded the respective divisions of St. Ruth's army, or of the regiments that constituted them, little can be established from contemporary or subsequent historians, beyond this:—That Colonel Walter Burke and his brother, Colonel David Burke, held the Castle of Aughrim and its defences; that Lord Bophin, Brigadier Henry Luttrell, Colonels Simon Luttrell, and Ulick Burke commanded on the left; that Major-Generals Dorrington, H. M. J. O'Neil, Brigadier Gordon O'Neil, Colonels Felix O'Neil, and Anthony Hamilton, held the centre; and that Lords Kilmallock, Galmoy, Galway, Clare, and Colonel James Talbot commanded on the right. And judging from the positions held by those leaders respectively, and the regiments they indicate, it may be inferred that the Munster troops were on the right, the Leinster and Ulster troops in the centre, and that those of Connaught held the left and its surroundings.

In addition to those division and regimental commanders, the marshalling of the entire infantry was deputed to General William Mansfield Barker, and that of the cavalry to Major-General John Hamilton;69 and the whole was commanded by the Marquis de St. Ruth and Lieutenant-General Sarsfield,70 aided by Generals d'Usson and de Tessé, and other officers of established reputation.

Having completed his arrangements, and allotted every division its service, St. Ruth drew up his army and reviewed it in front of its encampment. Then, in an eloquent and animated address, he set before all the great issues dependent on the coming battle. He reminded them that, unlike the mercenary army of the Prince of Orange, they were about to contend for all that man holds dear, and for all that exalts and ennobles the profession of arms—their homes and kindred; their country and its altars. The duty of allegiance to their king who had staked his crown to free them from an odious religious bondage, and the certainty of immediate and adequate succor from his own sovereign, should their arms be crowned with success, were set before them in language calculated to awaken loyalty and enkindle enthusiasm. His own services in the cause of religion were alluded to as an earnest of that sincerity in their cause which tended to awaken sympathy and establish confidence, and his troubles, and even his errors, since he came to the country, were reviewed with an earnest ingenuousness that removed all traces of discontent and restored general harmony. This address was delivered in the French language, and interpreted to the soldiers by their officers and chaplains in their native tongue, till every eye kindled with devotion, and every bosom glowed in the hope of anticipated victory. Then exhorting them to prepare themselves by those religious observances that should distinguish the Christian soldier, he retired to his tent to digest the thoughts that labored in his mind, and to shape them to purpose and to action.

The eve of battle had come:—that hour which best attunes the soldier's heart to sympathy and devotion; and many associations contributed to render that one more than usually impressive. It was at once the season of full moon and perpetual twilight, and the sultry glare of day was succeeded by that chastened yet abundant radiance that at once soothes and spiritualizes; and, above all, it was the Sabbath eve, which more than any other awakens the sacred memories of love, home, and kindred.—The crest of Kilcommodon, studded from end to end with the white tents of the soldiers, stood out in its isolation like a city of silver, while the castles of Urrachree and Aughrim on the front, and the churches of Kilcommodon and Kilconel in the rear, seemed as sentinels of the place, and carried back the mind to the ages of faith and chivalry. Nor was the scene passing throughout the encampment less characteristic of the time and the event.—From sunset until the hours that precede the dawn, the chaplains of the army knew no repose: the voice of prayer arose on all hands, and the soldiers approached the confessional to prepare for the great sacrifice of the Mass, by which the human ordeal of the morrow was to be inaugurated. Towards morning heavy clouds obscured the moon, and darkness deepened over hill and valley, until all became as drear and dismal as it had before been full of grandeur and celestial loveliness:—nothing was heard but the challenge of the sentinels on their rounds, and the occasional neigh of the war-horse; and nothing seen but the distant watch-fires where the pickets on the eastern hills kept watch above the camp of the enemy.

How commendable is the spirit of religion on such occasions! History, sacred and profane, delights to record this manifestation of the divinity in man. The Israelites never joined battle without offering sacrifice, and even the pagan nations always propitiated their gods on the eve of battle. And yet we find this instance of it in the Irish people made a subject of the lowest ribaldry, even by the reverend historian of William's army. Without, however, entering on a disquisition as to the efficacy of prayer, or what providence, or good or evil directs the destiny of nations, a precedent in point may not be considered inappropriate.

The battle of Hastings was to England what that of Aughrim was to Ireland. Each established a new dynasty, and each accomplished the subjugation of the native race. That of the Saxon was but the work of a day; that of the Irish was an incessant warfare of centuries. The one was the extinction of Thanes and Heptarchs; the other of chieftains and princes.—And there were still other traces of similarity.

At Hastings, the Saxons revelled while the Normans prayed. At Aughrim, the Irish prayed while the English revelled. Yet the same historians who appreciate the devotion of the Norman, and indicate its efficacy, make it a subject of ridicule in the Irish, and couple it with defeat. Providence and faith are often too lightly used to link a defective argument, or to round a happy period. Few will now deny that the Saxons were a more virtuous people than their Norman conquerors, or that the Irish were not much more so than the heterogeneous mass that followed the Prince of Orange. If the Saxons bent to the yoke of a conquering race, and prospered under it, let them glory in their wisdom and servility; but that the Celtic race, through every vicissitude, spurned it, hated the connection, and have still an undying faith in their ability to sever it, constitute, it is believed, a truer nobility of character.