Chapter IX (5)

A thick vapor, called up from the surrounding bogs and marshes by the hot morning sun, kept the rival armies concealed from each other's sight till about 12 o'clock, when, all becoming clear, the men on Kilcomedan had a full sight of the allied forces, commanded by eight majors-general, and arranged in double columns, their rich appointments presenting an unpleasant contrast to their own much more modest if not shabby garb and accoutrements. As soon as General Ginckel could command a distinct view from a height toward the left of his lines, he was enabled to judge of the strength of the position held by the Irish, and the skill shown in the disposition of the forces adverted to above. He could see one portion of the cavalry prepared to dispute the pass at Urrachree, another watching the pass at Aughrim, the main body of horse posted below the crest of the hill, the infantry still lower disposed in two columns, and he could guess the presence of musketeers in the ditches at the bottom of the hill, prepared to receive the hardy infantry who would venture across the morass to exchange shots with them. Sarsfield's horse beyond the brow of Kilcomedan on the Irish left, he probably did not observe. There was the shrewd and fiery chief placed, with strict orders from his unfriendly superior not to stir from that spot till expressly ordered. {126} Had the gallant Dutchman at that moment known that St. Ruth had not communicated to any of his general officers the scheme be intended to observe through the engagement, his hopes of victory would have been much more sanguine. Feeling the inexpediency of commencing a general engagement, yet impatient of the scene of inactivity before him, he gave orders to a Danish captain of horse commanding sixteen men to attempt the pass of Urrachree. The small body was warmly received by some watching cavalry still fewer in number, and though the brave officer justified the reputation of his country for dogged courage, his men were deserted by that virtue so essential to every soldier, and "ran like men."

Ginckel, fully aware of the importance of the pass in case a general engagement should take place, next directed Colonel Albert Conyngham to take possession of some ditches near where one branch of the stream entered the morass. The chief of this party had received orders not to advance beyond the mere boundary, lest he should be intercepted, and thus bring on a premature engagement. The Irish party, after receiving the enemy's fire and returning it, showed their backs, and their assailants pursued them beyond the limits pointed out by the sagacious De Ginckel. An ambush had been prepared in expectation of this proceeding, and, while they were least expecting it, a destructive fire was opened on them from behind cover. Many immediately dismounted, and, taking advantage of a hedge, returned the fire with deadly interest. They had little time to enjoy the success of this move, when they were startled by the rush of a strong cavalry force sweeping down on them from behind the extremity of the hill, and the old manor-house of Urrachree. They were obliged to retire in disorder before this new enemy, but the watchful eye of the justly displeased general had well marked the progress of the action, and provided for the expected repulse. D'Eppinger's royal regiment of Holland dragoons came on amain to get between the pursuing Irish horse and the hill. But other detachments of Irish cavalry were at hand to frustrate this design; the Earl of Portland's horse were sent to support the forcing party, and a stern combat was waged for about an hour, fresh parties joining the strife from the natural impatience of men of heart to remain still while blows are bandying before their eyes. At three o'clock this contention came to an end, both sides having lost several stout partisans, and the relative positions being much the same as at the beginning of the skirmish.

For the next hour and a half nothing was done on either aide. The English generals were in close consultation as to whether it were better to renew the attack or defer it till next morning. The brave old Scotchman, Mackay, decided his fellow commanders for present action. He counselled a renewed and more effective attempt at Urrachree, which, causing re-enforcements to be drawn from the Irish centre and the neighborhood of Aughrim, would enable the infantry to try the morass where it was narrowest, and also enable the cavalry on the right wing to force the dangerous pass at Aughrim, watched by the garrison of the ruined castle.

The Morass And The Hedges.

At this time (half-past four in the evening) the main body of the English formed two lines directly before the morass, the generals on each side having a pretty correct idea of the state and efficiency of their foes. In other respects the advantage was with the allied army. There was a perfect cordiality and understanding between De Ginckel and his generals, and even in the case of his death and that of his second in command the Duke of Wirtemberg, Mackay, or Talmash, or De Ruvigny were perfectly apprised of the general plan of the action.

{127}

The Danish horse and a body of infantry were ordered to the extreme left, with the apparent design to out-flank the enemy on that side, and thus draw away from the Irish centre and left wing much of the strength there needed. This body (the Dutch, to wit) kept that postilion during the remainder of the battle, doing as good service as if actually engaged. Three French regiments, namely, those of La Mellonière, Du Cambon, and Belcassel, commenced to assail the advanced forces of the Irish in the neighborhood of these inactive troops, and obliged St. Ruth to weaken his left and centre to support them. Except the cannonading from both sides there was no fighting going on until six o'clock along the entire line, except this in the neighborhood of Urrachree.

Mackay, in order to weaken still more the Irish left wing, advised Ginckel to separate a considerable body of horse from Talmash's troops, who were waiting for a favorable opportunity to tempt the narrow pass toward Aughrim, and to send them toward Urrachree. This had the desired effect, and now preparations were made to cross the morass at the narrowest part and attack the Irish centre.

While detachments of the second line of the left centre of the Irish were marching to defend the pass at Urrachree, and thus leaving their late positions comparatively weak, four English regiments, commanded by Colonels Erie, Herbert, Creighton, and Brewer, effected the passage of the marsh, and were received by a volley from the men ensconced behind the lowest fence. Openings (as before mentioned) being ready, these marksman, as soon as they were dislodged, retired behind the next shelter, and repeated the process till they had drawn the British soldiers nearly half a mile up the hill.

Now their orders had been to wait till a much greater force had crossed at a wider portion of the morass lower down (that is, near Aughrim, the stream in the centre of the morass flowing in that direction), and effected a junction with them. So when they saw their cunning enemies, joined by the main central force, and these again backed by cavalry, all preparing to sweep down on them, they remembered too late the wise orders they had received. However, if the charging party were Irish wolf-hounds, the charged were English bull-dogs, and determined to make courage repair evil done by rashness. The gallant Colonel Erie cried out: "There is no way to come off but to be brave!" But neither the courage of the men nor the ability of the leaders could resist the downward charge of horse and foot, and the flanking bullets that rained on them. Colonels Erie and Herbert and some captains were taken prisoners and rescued, and recaptured, and we are sorry to record that Colonel Herbert was killed while prisoner, from apprehension of his rescue. The English did not or could not make use of the fences in their downward flight, as their pursuers had done when enticing them upward, but were driven, as it were, by press of men till the survivors once more gained the bog.

Meantime five regiments, for whose safe lodgment these rash men ought to have waited, had crossed the wider part of the morass lower down, under the command of the veteran Major-General Mackay and Prince George of Hesse. This fiery young warrior was ordered by his senior to keep his division stationary in a cornfield until he himself should have made a sufficient _detour_ to the right among difficult ground and to attack the enemy in flank while Prince George was assailing them in front.

The same error as that just previously committed by the staid English colonels was repeated by the impetuous young German prince. Being fired at and probably jeered or mocked by the ditch holders he advanced to chastise them, and both parties came to such close quarters that the ends of their muskets nearly touched. {128} Back went the Irish musketeers, after them pushed the assailants, new shelter taken, fresh shots fired, fresh dislodgments, no attention paid by Englander or foreigner till they found themselves surrounded and assailed front, flank, and rear, by the Irish. There was a skirmishing retreat made till the corn-field was reached by the survivors, some even whose care for self overpowered love of fame or fighting, never stayed till they had put the morass between themselves and the pestilent hedgemen.

General Mackay, having mastered the difficulties before him, was in hopes of having the Irish foe between himself and the holders of the cornfield, but was thunderstruck on his return at the demoralized condition of his rash friends. He sent to request aid from General Talmash, and the three parties renewed a desperate onslaught on the musketeers who occupied the fences. They were received with the same determined resolution and deadly fire as on the two former occasions, and were obliged by the close and uninterrupted musket volleys and flank charges of horse to fall back on the cornfield, the marsh, and even to the dry ground on the eastern side on a line with the English batteries.

Three times did the tide of battle flow and ebb across the bog on that memorable afternoon, each party inspired with the dogged determination and hate that a struggle for life and for a darling cause inspired. Even the Williamite chaplain was obliged in a manner to do justice to the bravery of the Irish enemy. Describing the beginning of the attack, he says:--

"The _Irish_ in the meantime laid so close in their ditches that
several were doubtful whether they had any men at that place or not, but
they were convinced of it at last, for no sooner were the _French_
and the rest got within twenty yards or less of the ditches, but the
_Irish_ fired most furiously upon them, which our men as bravely
sustained, and pressed forward, though they could scarce see one another
for smoak. And now the thing seemed so doubtful for some time that the
by-standers would rather have given it on the Irish side, for they had
driven our foot in the centre so far that they were got almost in a line
with some of our great guns planted near the bog, which we had not the
benefit of at that juncture, because of the mixture of our men and
theirs."

During the continuance of this deadly strife in the centre, De Ginckel was directing the efforts of the foreign auxiliaries against the defenders of Urrachree. The general himself, regardless of his own safety, exposed his life on more than one occasion. He was re-enforced more than once from the left, but all that the greatest skill and energy on the part of himself and his generals, and bravery on the part of their men could effect, were insufficient to remove the Irish cavalry from their ground of vantage. Next to this mingled war of cavalry and infantry, and nearer the centre, the French infantry regiments of La Mellonière, Du Camben, and Belcassel struggled, like the fiery stout fellows they were, to drive the Irish infantry opposed to them from their ditches. They (the French) fortified their positions when any advantage was gained by _chevaux de frise_, but these were again and again taken and destroyed by their opponents. Scarcely did any portion of the mingled peoples suffer so much in the deadly struggle at Aughrim as these gallant Frenchmen. Had De Ginckel's cavalry, and these French infantry, succeeded in dislodging their opponents, they would then be in a position to take the Irish centre in flank, and bring the struggle to a speedy close, but this was not the mode in which it was the will of Providence to decide the day.

Where was St. Ruth employed during these momentous struggles? Just where he should have been, in front of his camp near the crest of the hill, watching the fluctuations of the battle, issuing orders, and sending aid wherever they were needed. Our chaplain says that he was so pleasurably excited by the charges of his central infantry to the very line of the British batteries that he flung his gold-laced hat into the air, extolling the bravery of the Irish infantry, and exclaiming that "he would now drive back the English to the gates of Dublin."

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How the Pass of Aughrim was Forced.

So far the Irish forces were sustained in their gallant struggle; but now the scale of fortune began to waiver. Their final defeat began in a quarter from which it was totally unlooked for by either themselves or their antagonists. The castle of Aughrim, so well garrisoned, looked on a narrow pass crossed by the stream before mentioned, but a little to the S. E. this isthmus of firm land opened out to a tolerably wide space "in the shape of a spindle furnished with its complement of thread." Here at about this time of the fight, the extreme right of the English force planted some cannon, and cleared of its defenders the gorge of the isthmus just between them and the space before the castle. So far a step was made in the right direction; they were enabled to make the next by the stupidity or treachery of an officer who had been directed to send to Urrachree a detachment from the second or rear line of the army toward the left. Along with this complement he sent away a battalion from the front line; [Footnote 33] and this being remarked by the English officers, three infantry battalions making use of hurdles, slipped across the edge of the morass in front of the castle, [Footnote 34] and took possession of a cornfield on the Irish side. The Irish musketeers stationed behind the hedges in that quarter, aware of the wide breach in the main columns behind them, retreated after delivering one discharge, and took refuge in the hollow near the castle, the post of the reserve cavalry. A troop of these coming to the rescue, the Englishmen took to the shelter of the hedges where they had little to fear from a charge.

[Footnote 33: Colonel Henry Luttrell having had to do in this transfer
of the front line force where they were needed, gave a color to the
tradition of his having "sold the pass at Aughrim."]

[Footnote 34: Let it be borne in mind that the castle was on the north
side of the narrow road or pass, and that its defenders had before
their eyes the N.E. side of Kilcomedan and the morass so often
mentioned. The village of Aughrim lay to the west of the castle, and
Irish reserve force partly between castle and village.]

This successful manoeuver encouraged the passage of two other regiments nearer to the centre, namely, those commanded by Lord George Hamilton and Sir Henry Belasyse, and the moment seemed favorable for the approach of the cavalry through the defile which they had cleared of its guards as already mentioned. They were accompanied by infantry, who not being restricted to the narrow limit of the boggy road, were prepared to fire on all the visible defenders of the occupants of the outer works of the place. After all, it is really difficult to account for the apparently rash movement. There were 2,000 men in and about the castle, and two field-pieces were in readiness to rake the pass in front. What possibility was there that a line of horsemen two or three abreast, unable to return the fire of the protected enemy, could escape destruction? We knew that small parties of men have exposed their lives as on forlorn-hope enterprises, but here were whole regiments.

Could it be that the leaders were aware that the danger to be incurred did not exceed in degree the ordinary risks of warfare?

The chaplain says in reference to the apparent danger of the attempt:

"The French general seeing our men attempt to do this, askt, '_What
they meant by it?_ and being answered that they would certainly
endeavor to pass there, and attack him on the left, he is said to reply
with an oath, 'They are brave fellows; it's a pity they should be so
exposed.'"

It is very probable that the words were uttered by the general, for the long file of horses and cavaliers were distant only thirty yards from the sheltered marksmen.

The adventurous bands owed their safety to a direct interposition of Providence, to a detestable deed of treachery, or to the grossest piece of negligence or stupidity in the annals of warfare.

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We are told that Colonel Walter Bourke, commander of the garrison, having sent to the camp for ammunition, four barrels of gunpowder and four of bullets were sent to him. But when the barrels of ball were opened, on the approach of the enemy, the eyes of the men engaged in the operation were blasted by the sight of cannon-balls! The confusion and misery of the defenders, officers and men, may scarcely be comprehended. However, they resorted to the only means in their power. To supply ammunition they loaded with buttons, with nails, with bits of stone, with their ramrods when all else was expended, and did what execution they could.

The infantry regiments of Hamilton and Kirke, having found materials at hand, barricaded a wide opening on the east side of the castle, in order to prevent a charge on the cannon when passing from the Irish reserve in the rere, and then they took possession of a dry ditch, whence they dislodged the defenders of the castle's outworks, whose ammunition was expended, and who for their misfortune lived before the bayonet was invented.

The Irish reserve, hearing from the fugitives how things were going on, sped round to the opening on their left, through which they might charge on the advancing artillery train; but there they found themselves checkmated by the barrier set up by the English infantry. They wheeled round, and, having made the circuit of the castle, they found themselves face to face with Lord Oxford's regiment, who, under Sir Francis Compton, had already gained the open ground. A brisk engagement took place, and the English cavalry were twice driven back, but, being soon re-enforced by the horse and dragoons of De Rouvigny, Langston, Byerly, and Levingston, they made good their footing, several being slain on both sides.

It may well be supposed that St. Ruth was not a little surprised to see the narrow and dangerous passage so well and safely achieved, and the lodgment effected at the bottom of the hill by the English infantry. Still there was nothing very disheartening in all this. He was at the head of a fine body of cavalry; only four squadrons of the enemy had as yet effected a standing at the north-east extremity of the hill; he and his troopers would charge down and annihilate the rash intruders; and if need were, he could easily summon the brave Earl of Lucan and his horse, who had been kept inactive to this moment, and dared not stir till the word was given.

Here a tirade might very appropriately come in against the spite of fortune toward the Irish cause, and particularly toward the aspirations of the single-minded and heroic Patrick Sarsfield. He had been kept at the fight of the Boyne in attendance on the king; at Aughrim he sat his horse on one side of Kilcomedan while the exciting battle game was being played at the other, and in neither case had he an opportunity of charging, or ordering to charge, or directing a movement, or striking a blow. A complete insight into the workings of his troubled and ireful heart on these days would not be desirable.

One Shot Decides the Victory.

The general, doomed to enjoy but a few minutes more of existence, was radiant with confident hope. Preparing for the final swoop, he cried, "They are beaten; let us beat them to the purpose!" He gave some directions to an artillery officer, placed himself at the head of his guard, and was about to give the command to charge when his head was blown to pieces by a cannon-ball!

Does not it now seem an easy thing for the next in command then to have sent at once to Lord Lucan, inform him of the fatal accident, and summon him to take the chief command? It was a simple matter to charge on the advancing columns, and through superiority in number and fresh untired forces render what they had effected of no avail. No. A cloak was laid over the body, and it was conveyed to the rere; part of the guard accompanied it, and the rest soon followed.

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The historians do not agree on the final resting-place of the body of the gallant but ill-advised Frenchman, but the probability is that it was conveyed to Athenry and interred in its roofless church; peace to his memory! [Footnote 35]

[Footnote 35: From the Green Book of Mr. O'Callachan, we extract
(abridged) a curious traditional passage connected with the death of
St. Ruth. The day before the battle, a neighboring gentlemen, by name
O'Kelly, presented himself before him demanding payment of sundry sheep
driven off his lands by the soldiers. The general refused, alleging
that he should not grudge food to the men who were fighting for him and
his country. O'Kelly persisting, the general used harsh language, and
the other turning to his herdsman, bade him in Irish to mark St. Ruth
and his appearance. "You are robbed, master," said the herd, "but
anyhow, ask for the skins." These were needed by the soldiers for bed
furniture, and all that master and herd obtained by the second request
was a preemptory order to be gone. They obeyed and sought the English
general, who recommended them to the care of a certain artillery
officer named Trench. When the passage before the castle was made,
Trench got his piece of ordinance fixed in an advantageous place on the
edge of the marsh by means of planking, and as soon as the treacherous
herd caught sight of St. Ruth he cried out, "Take aim! There he is, a
man dressed like a bandsman." One wheel of the carriage being lower
than was requisite, Trench put his boot under it, and everything being
adjusted aim was taken, and O'Kelly and his herd got their revenge, and
the favor of the ruling powers.]

However unaccountable it may seem, Sarsfield received no intelligence of St. Ruth's death till it was too late to repair the mischance. Meanwhile the English who had crossed at Aughrim found time to assist their struggling friends in the centre, and the musketeers were gradually driven upward. The main body of Irish infantry on right of the centre were as much discouraged by the death of Rev. Dr. Stafford, an energetic chaplain, as the guards had been by that of the commander-in-chief. The right wing at Urrachree, after incessant fighting, were obliged to retreat before the increasing numbers of their assailants released from duty elsewhere, and the English and Danish cavalry at Urrachree were at leisure to relieve the Huguenot infantry on their right from the fierce attacks of the Irish infantry to whom they had been opposed.

It was now past sunset and the rout of King James's adherents had become general, the last to retreat being the infantry next to Urrachree, who had done such good service against the regiments of La Mellonière, Du Cambon, and Belcassel.

After the Battle.

The infantry fled to the protection of the large red bog on their left, and the cavalry made an orderly retreat south-west, along the road to Loughrea. The poor infantry were slaughtered without mercy by the pursuing cavalry, but a thick mist mercifully sent saved the lives of many. An ingenious diversion in their favor was made by a brave and thoughtful officer of the old race of O'Reilly, who, getting on a small eminence, sounded the charge for battle, and stopped for a few minutes the bloody pursuit. One skilled in the domestic economy of battles may explain why the Irish cavalry did not combine and present a strong and effective obstacle to the English horse, while the poor fellows on foot were getting away under their shelter. The present writer being a mere civilian can allege no sufficient reason. Neither does he seek to excuse the party to whom the garrison in the old castle surrendered. Two thousand living men occupied the premises in the morning, and of these (the few killed excepted) only the commander, Walter Bourke, eleven officers, and forty soldiers, were granted their lives. To account for the absence of mercy on the English side it was asserted that NO QUARTER was among the instructions given to the Irish before the battle. We are not in condition to decide whether the fact was so or not.

The number of killed and wounded on both sides is variously estimated. Story says the Irish loss was 7,000. Others state it at 4,000. Captain Parker, on the English side, says that there were slain of the allied troops, about 3,000. This is a problem in the solution of which we feel no interest. {132} We are gratified by the heroism displayed on both sides, and our gratification would be much enhanced by finding it recorded that when resistance ceased, quarter was generously granted. With few exceptions this was not the case. Ardent partisan as the chaplain was, we are sure that his better feelings were stirred by what he looked on "three days after when all our own and some of theirs were interred."

"I reckoned in some small enclosures 150, in others 120, &c., lying most
of them by the ditches where they were shot, and the rest from the top of
the hill, where their camp had been, looked like a great flock of sheep,
shattered up and down the countrey for almost four miles round."

Were we sure of keeping our temper we would here commence a lay sermon on the iniquity of those, whether emperors, kings, presidents, or evil oouncillors, who for wretched objects, in which vanity or covetousness has chief share, arm myriads of children of the great human family against each others' lives, and feel neither pity nor remorse at the sight of poor naked human remains, flung broadcast over heath, and moors, and hill-sides, like grey stones, or the scattered sheep of our chaplain's illustration.

The English occupiers of the ground after the battle buried only their own dead, unless where the presence of the other bodies interfered with their convenience, and as the inhabitants of the neighborhood had quitted their homes when the expectation of a battle became strong, the bodies of the Irish soldiers remained above ground till nothing but the bones were left. We quote an affecting incident from our chaplain relative to this sad condition of things:

"Many dogges frequented the place long afterwards, and became so fierce
by feeding upon man's flesh, that it became dangerous for any single man
to pass that way. And there is a true and remarkable story of a greyhound
(wolfhound?) belonging to an _Irish_ officer. The gentleman was
killed and stripped in the battle, whose body the dog remained by, night
and day; and though he fed upon other corps with the rest of the dogs,
yet, he would not allow them or anything else to touch that of his
master. When all the corps were consumed all the dogs departed, but this
used to go in the night to the adjacent villages for food, and presently
to return to the place where his master's bones were only then left. And
thus he continued till January following, when one of Col. Faulk's
soldiers being quartered nigh hand, and going that that way by chance,
the dog, fearing he came to disturb his master's bones, flew upon the
soldier, who being surprised at the suddenness of the thing, unslung his
piece thereupon his back and killed the poor dog."

Though our drama cannot conclude till the articles come to be signed at Limerick, the fight we have endeavored to describe with full justice to both parties, may be considered the catastrophe or _denouement_ of the piece, no engagement of its magnitude or so decisive in its results having taken place afterward.

From Aughrim to Limerick

Sarsfield, at the head of the cavalry and some infantry, proceeded to Limerick after the defeat of Aughrim; D'Usson conducted the main body of the infantry to Galway, before which city De Ginckel arrived on the 20th of the month. D'Usson had but few of the qualities requisite for a good military chief, and negotiations were entered on next day, the Irish evacuating the city, and the English general allowing them to proceed to Limerick with the honors of war, and all the conveniences in his power to afford them.

After Baldearg O'Donnel had much excited the expectations of the country being freed through his valor and wisdom, he is found at this time a mere chief of straggling parties, a greater terror to the natives by their exactions than to the common enemy. He opened a correspondence with the English general, and like some modern patriots was rewarded for the annoyance he had hitherto given the English Government by a valuable pension for life.

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Such was not the system acted on by our brave old acquaintance, Thigue O'Regan, now a knight, and Governor of Sligo. Baldearg having deserted his old-fashioned and loyal associate, Sir Thigue found himself on the 13th of September at the head of 600 men and provided with twelve days' food, the town and part of the citadel in the enemy's hands, and 5,000 fresh men sent against him by Lord Granard ready to smash his fortifications, or starve him into a sense of his condition. The little man of the long periwig, red cloak, and plumed hat, had a head as well as a heart. He capitulated and received all the respect due to loyalty and courage. He and his garrison were conducted out with honor, their twelve days' provisions (their own residue) given them, and all conveniences supplied them for their march to Limerick. To honor the peppery old knight, the same terms were granted to all the little garrisons in that country.

Omitting negotiations, marches, and petty affairs, important only to those concerned, we come to De Ginckel's camp at Cariganless (as our chaplain spells the name) in his progress to Limerick. On August 25th, the army left that town.

Limerick's Last Defence.

On the 26th of August the besiegers of Limerick were at their posts, and on the 30th the bombardment commenced. It was so severe and spread such devastation within Irish town that many inhabitants took their beds and migrated to the English town within the arms of the river, and Lords Justices and delicate ladies and sundry lovers of quiet set up their rest two miles inland in Clare. On the 10th of September forty yards of the defending wall of English town were reduced to rubbish, but the arm of the river was in the way, and no assault followed.

September 15th a bridge of boats was laid across the Shannon toward Annabeg, and a large detachment of English horse and foot crossed to the right bank of the Shannon. These took up their station beyond Thomond-bridge, the Irish cavalry, whose place that was, being obliged to remove to Sixmile-bridge. The laying of the bridge and the passage of the detachment were effected through the gross negligence or treachery of Brigadier Clifford, who was tried by a court martial for the offence. He acknowledged the negligence, but stoutly denied the treason. Colonel Henry Luttrell [Footnote 36] proved traitor without any doubt, and was kept close prisoner till King James's will could be ascertained. Before that time came the fortress was given up and Luttrell set at liberty. England rewarded him for his intentions; and his name has since been a word of ill-omen in the mouths of the Irish peasantry.

[Footnote 36: This is the same Colonel Luttrell who sold the pass at
Aughrim, as before mentioned. Ed. C. W.]

22d. De Ginckel attacked the Irish post on the Clare side of Thomond-bridge. The three regiments of Kirke, Tiffin, and Lord George Hamilton, overpowered Colonel Lacy with his 700 men, and when these sought shelter in the city, they found themselves shut out by the town major, a Frenchman, who feared that the foes would enter pell-mell with the friends. Little quarter was given, and only 130 got the privilege of being made prisoners of war. This is one of those instances in which the Irish party suffered so fatally from the treachery or detestable negligence of some among themselves.

The Duke of Tyrconnel died at the residence of D'Usson during the siege.

This was the last trial of arms between the friends of William and James in Ireland. Next day a truce was agreed on and preliminaries of peace commenced. With the "Conditions of Limerick," a dismal household word with the peasantry of Ireland from that hour to the present, we shall not meddle. They do not come within our scope, which merely embraces the stirring events of the three years' campaign, our design being to present these in a picturesque and interesting light, and in a spirit of genuine impartiality. This being our design, we have seized on everything that could reflect honor or credit on the chiefs of both parties, or the conduct of the common soldiers. We have found much more rancor and want of humanity distinguishing both parties, the military chiefs excepted, then we could wish. These we have softened as much as truth would permit. No one reading our sketches but will, as we hope, think better of the party whose principles he repudiates, than he did before the perusal.

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Original

Asperges Me.

by Richard Storrs Willis.

I

Prostrate at thy altar kneeling,
Not a thought or fault concealing,
Hear me cry with inmost feeling,
_Domine, asperges me!_
Ah! What sins I come confessing,
Since I last received thy blessing!
Yet with all this guilt oppressing,
Still I pled _asperges me!_

II

Sins of thought, of word, of action,
Many a righteous law's infraction,
Many an hour of wild distraction--
_Domine, asperges me!_
Oft I think can Christ forgive me--
With such guilt can he receive me?
What if my fond heart deceive me--
_Dare_ I plead _asperges me!_

III

Come I must, for thou dost bid me!
Ne'er for coming hast thou chid me!
From my guilt, ah! quickly rid me--
_Domine, asperges me!_
That my heavy heart grow lighter.
That my love for thee burn brighter,
That my soul than snow grow whiter,
_Domine, asperges me!_

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From The Month.

Ancor-Viat--A New Giant City.

If any would-be discoverer of ancient monuments is envious of the laurels of Mr. Layard and other celebrities of the same class, let him at once set out by the overland route, and make his way as fast as he can to Ancor-Viat. Few people have yet heard of it, but if what is said of it be true, it must be simply the most stupendous collection of magnificent monuments in the world. If the traveller in Central America, who, like Mr. Stephens, quits the beaten tracks and plunges into the depths of vast forests, is amazed at the ruins of Copan, Palenque, Uxmal, and Chichen, with their huge truncated pyramids, palaces, corridors, and sculptured bas-reliefs, he would, it seems, be still more surprised if he extended his researches to the Empire of Annam, and, advancing toward the utmost boundary of Cambodia, where it skirts Thibet, he came, mounted on an elephant, to the gigantic temples and forests of marble pillars which mark the site of which we speak. It was thus that a French officer in the service of the King of Siam recently visited the spot; and the account he has given of it may be found in the Revue de l'Architecture, and is in great part reproduced in the Revue Contemporaine of December, 1866. No European writer before him has ever mentioned it, and in reading his letters we must make allowances for possible exaggeration. He is a mandarin of the third class, and has obtained the rank of general in command of the Siamese army. M. Perrin (for such is his name) proposes revisiting Ancor-Viat with a complete photographic apparatus; and when he has done this, and had given us the pleasure of examining his photographs, we shall be better able to judge of his veracity. Meanwhile the editor of the Revue Contemporaine is of opinion that the clearness and simplicity of his account leaves little room for doubting its truth.

When M. Perrin first visited Ancor-Viat, he saw nothing of its ancient splendor; for in "Indian China," as in Central America, monuments of large dimensions and great beauty are often unknown to the people who dwell within a few hundred yards of them. The concourse of intelligent and wealthy travellers alone teaches ignorant natives the value of their own surroundings. On his second journey M. Perrin's attention was directed to the ruins by a curious circumstance. The King of Kokien pays a yearly tribute to the King of Siam in kind, and among the articles saltpetre figures largely. In the whole of India beyond the Ganges--in the Birman Empire, Siam, Malacca, and Annam--the people, children-like, have a passion for fireworks, and consequently consume a large quantity of saltpetre. Now the excrement of bats and night-birds that haunt in great abundance the cities of the dead furnishes, it seems, a copious supply of this substance, and is, in fact, as fruitful in the production of squibs and rockets as guano--the dung of Peruvian sea-birds--is in the cultivation of corn and rye. It is collected by malefactors who work in chains, and is dissolved in water mixed with ashes. After some days the water and ashes, with the macerated dung strongly impregnated with ammonia, is passed through tight sieves, and exposed in big caldrons to the action of huge fires. {136} The entire substance then evaporates leaving behind it crystals of saltpetre. The East was famous of old for the manufacture of nitre; and we have all have noticed how it forms spontaneously on the walls of stables, slaughter-houses, cellars, and the like, from the decomposition of animal matter, and even from the breath and sweat of beasts.

No wonder M. Perrin was struck as a foreigner by the strange spectacle of convicts collecting bird-dung. The birds of night have a strong affinity for ruins, and crumbling towers and terraces are--to use an expression of Virgil's--

"Dirarum nidis domus opportuna volucrum."

It was along the northern part of the great city of Ancor-Viat that M. Perrin halted frequently to watch the culprits of Cambodia plying their foul task. During six days of elephant march he travelled on without coming to the end of the city. Here and there be penetrated into the ruins where explorers had opened a passage. No one, he says, would believe him if he told all be saw. The monuments, the palaces, the temples, the pillars, stairs, and blocks of marble pass description. The circle of the ruins was computed by the people of the country at ten or twelve leagues in diameter. Now considering that London, with its three millions of inhabitants, measures about eleven miles from east to west, and that Ancor-Viat by this calculation covered about three times as much ground, there must have been a pretty large concourse of human beings under the shadow of its colossal halls. It may have been the capital of an empire; it may have been an empire in itself. There, doubtless, as in the ancient cities of Mexico, the rich and the great dwelt in spacious edifices, with gardens and groves enclosed, while the poorer sort herded together in huts like those of the rudest tribes of Indians. There were no parliaments and philanthropic societies then to look after the dwellings of the poor; as space was no object in those days, they made up for straitened accommodation at home by plenty of spare room for building within the walls. Subaltern officers in the British army in Ceylon, who have surveyed that island of late years, report cities of enormous size, and covered in with jungle, as inviting excavation. Anarajaphpoorra, they tell us, must have been larger than London, and Polonarooa (be indulgent to the spelling, ye students of Cingalee!) contains statues of Anak height. The recumbent Buddha in the last of these two cities is 24 feet in length, and the Buddhist temples, built of a kind of granite, are huge in proportion. What bullock-power and elephant-power it must have required to move blocks of stone so unwieldy in an age when machinery and engineering were unknown! What thews must these Titans have had, before the time of eastern effeminacy, to build their towers of uncemented ashlars piled up like "Pelion upon Ossa"! M. Perrin assures us that he saw in Ancor-Viat temples in a good state of preservation, but overrun with weeds and shrubs, which measured a league in circuit. Pillars rose around him on every side, tall as cedars, and all in marble. The stairs, though partly buried under the soil, still mounted much higher than the noble flights one sees at Versailles or on the Piazza di Spagna at Rome. The buildings in some places were as solid as if they had been raised yesterday. According to local tradition, they are four or five thousand years old; and yet, but for lightning and the overgrowth of luxuriant vegetation, they would even at this day be perfect and intact. "Oh! that I had brought a photographic apparatus with me!" exclaims this traveller. "I assure you, whether you believe it or no, that the most famous monuments ancient or modern which we can boast of are mere sheds compared with what I have seen: our palaces, our basilicas, the Vatican, Colosseum, and the like, are just dog-kennels to it, and nothing more!"

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If we had never heard of the Indian cities of Central America which the tribes are supposed to have deserted six or seven hundred years ago, when warned by their priests of the coming of the Spaniards, we might feel disposed to reject M. Perrin's account as no less fabulous than the travels of Baron Munchausen. But when we follow the steps of Captain Del Rio and Captain Du Paix, and still more those of Mr. Stephens in Chiapas and Yucatan; when we see them working their way through dense forests in Honduras with fire and axe, and arriving at a wall six hundred feet long and from sixty to ninety in height, forming one side of an oblong enclosure called the Temple, while the other three sides are formed by a succession of pyramids and terraced walls that measure from thirty to a hundred and forty feet in height, we are not easily repelled by any report of ancient cities merely because the measurements in it run very high. There was a phase in the history of civilization when half barbarous races who knew not the use of iron, delighted in constructing lasting monuments, and made up for beauty of detail by huge proportions, and for writing and hieroglyphics by picture-painting. M. Perrin may be guilty of great exaggeration, but we ought not to charge him with it too hastily. Modern research has more than verified all that the Spaniards vaguely reported of the cities of the West, where immense artificial mounds are crowned with stately palaces, and the dauntless industry of former races is proved by the provision they made for water supply in a dry and thirsty land--by the vast reservoirs for water which have been excavated, and are found to be paved and lined with stone--by the pits around the ponds intended to furnish supplies or water when the upper basin was empty in the height of summer--by the wells hidden deep in the rock, and reached by the patient water-carriers by pathways cut in the mountain to a depth or 450 feet, and conducting them to that depth by windings 1400 feet in length--by the long ladders, made of rough rounds of wood and bound together with osiers, up which the Indians carried, and still carry, on their backs from these deep sources the water requisite for the consumption of 7,000 persons or more, according to the size of the villages, during four months of the year--and by the subterranean chambers, which the Indians of old probably used as granaries for maize, and which were made, like the ingenious cisterns just spoken of, by slaves obedient to more intelligent masters. These and similar discoveries in America add a color of probability to the description M. Perrin has given of Ancor-Viat in Asia. At the same time we would rather he had not forgotten his photographic machine.

"I was anxious," he says, "to ascend to a temple that seemed tolerably perfect. There were eleven staircases, of I know not how many stairs each, to reach the first five only of peristyles! I began climbing at half-past six in the morning, and at half-past seven I had barely been able to examine two or three of the lower apartments. I was obliged to shorten my stay, fearing that I should have to descend the stairs while the sun was hot. All the walls are sculptured and ornamented. The first effect the ruins produced on me was that of stupefaction. Yet I am not a man to cry out with astonishment at trifles. The following day I went up by a winding staircase to the top of an immense tower situated on a height, from whence I enjoyed a good view of the surrounding remains. In hollows and parts where one cannot penetrate there are palaces of colossal height and grandeur. I had an excellent opera-glass, and could observe the details. An untold store of architectural treasures was before me, stretching as far as the frontier of Cambodia, which is ten or twelve leagues off! Just think what Paris would be in ruins. Heaps of stones and ashlars scattered over a surface no more than two or three leagues in diameter. Here there is on the ground, and under the ground, marble, already hewn, enough to build after the fashion of giants all the cities in the universe!"

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This is indeed a climax; and one needs to pause and take breath before following M. Perrin any further up his winding stairs. Can we attach any credit to one who is so lavish in the use of words and figures? He has evidently a supreme disregard for nice distinctions, and ordinary measures of time and place. Marble enough in Ancor-Viat to build all the cities in the world? _C'est un peu fort, M. Perrin._ But let us hear him to the end. We can believe a good deal about cities excavated or still underground, for we have seen several such with our own eyes; but credulity itself has its limits. "I saw," M. Perrin continues, "the leg of a statue the great toe of which measured eleven times my fowling-piece in the length. It is in marble, like the rest of the figure; there is no other stones here used for building, except colored stones, which are employed as borders or for the eyes of statues. There are pedestals with flights of steps, of which the crowning images have disappeared, as high and as large as St. Germain l'Auxerrois. Fancy octagonal pyramids cut short at half their proper height--all in marble, recollect. Who the devil raised all this? If it was some famous dynasty, it cannot be very well satisfied with the oblivion into which it has fallen, in spite of its sumptuous monuments. What are the ruins of Palenque, or even Thebes with its hundred gates, or of Babylon, compared with this unknown city without history and without name?"

Now, setting aside Thebes and Babylon, it may be well to compare what we really know of Palenque with the general's singular account of Ancor-Viat. It is more than a hundred years since the Spaniards first heard of it from the Indians, and the reports of its extent differ as widely now as they did then. The natives say the ruins cover an area of sixty miles; Du Paix and Del Rio seven leagues; and Waldeck about three miles. But though travellers are not agreed as to their extent, they are quite unanimous as to the remains themselves. All admit that they are "unique, extraordinary, and mournfully beautiful." The largest building is on a mound forty feet high, raised by the hands of man, originally faced with stones, and measuring 310 feet by 260 at the base. It is richly adorned with paintings in the style proper to the ancient cities of Mexico; the corridors are sumptuous, the flights of steps broad, and the figures of giant proportions, uncouth and expressive of suffering. The tallest statue, however, that has been discovered is only ten feet six inches high, by which it appears that the stone figures of Mexican Indians were dwarfish compared with the huge heroes and idols of the East. M. Perrin had been questioned about the existence of religious monuments in the eastern Peninsula of India, and the answers which he returned are as follows: "Sacred stones are found here. Some of them are simply rocks which at some period or other were sufficiently soft to receive very clearly the impressions of the feet of men and animals. Of this sort the one most highly venerated is that of the Buddhist monastery at Phrabat. An immense number of pilgrims visit it annually. Others are enormous monoliths raised on socles roughly quarried. If there ever were any inscriptions, they have been effaced. I have also seen here gateways or arches of triumph built of huge stones laid one upon another. What giants or what machines moved these immense blocks? They stand alone. Not a vestige of any building is near them. Sometimes there are not even any quarries to be found within a great distance. I saw two such monuments as those I now speak of among the Stiengs, when I conducted a military expedition against them. They stood in the midst of marshy and almost impassable forests, and had certainly never before been seen by any European. {139} Some of the people of Laos had spoken to me of these remains, but I very nearly missed seeing them. The difficulties in the way of getting to them were so great that at first I did not think they would be worth the trouble. But they amply repaid me. I examined them most carefully with a powerful glass. They did not appear to bear any inscriptions. Even the luxuriant vegetation of the tropics had been unable to disjoint them. What roots could rend asunder these stones laid one upon the other without cement, and raise so heavy a weight? The side-supports were, I believe, as high as the top-stone laid across was long. The soil is evidently raised by the vigorous growth that marks the vegetation of these forests. These remains must rest on monolith socles or on the rock, or on gigantic foundations; for the ground on the surface is so soft and wet that you may easily thrust a cane into it up to the handle."