By this feat, which happened towards the morning of the 13th, William's operations were greatly impeded; but ever provident, he was still the master, and, not like his rival, the slave of circumstances. At the end of another week, the loss was supplied by a train still more formidable than that destroyed, nor did their loss cause the cessation of hostilities for a single day.
Two of the guns found among the débris at Ballyneety were still fit for use, and with these, his mortars, and field-train, he continued the bombardment, and by the 17th, he had pushed his lines of circumvallation close to the walls of the city. Nor were the besieged less active or determined in their resistance; every foot of the ground was dearly purchased, and no day went by without a sortie of the most desperate character. One of these, which occurred between the 17th and 20th, was of so novel a character as to demand a passing notice. As William's lines approached close to the walls, the fire from within was so fierce as to compel the soldiers to lie close within their trenches during the night. Those opposite the sally-port, between the bridge and St. John's Gate, were occupied by two regiments: the Blue Dutch and the British, between whom no very friendly feelings existed. The Irish, to whom this was known, taking advantage of the darkness, made a lodgement in one of the traverses, and threw in a stealthy fire on the Dutch. The latter seeing no enemy, and observing the British by the flash of the muskets, believed the fire came from them, and answered it by a deadly volley. This was immediately returned, and the two regiments commenced a murderous fire on each other, while the Irish, as occasion offered, directed a volley at each of them. After several had fallen victims to their own stupidity, the real cause was detected by one of the English generals, and troops were brought up to correct the evil, and chastise the authors of it; but these seeing the place getting too hot for them, rushed from their ambush and reached the city with little loss. The affray between the British and Dutch was not easily reconciled. The confusion of languages baffled, for some time, all attempts at explanation, and hostilities continued until both regiments were placed under arrest, and fresh troops stationed in the trenches. The blunder created great mirth among the Irish soldiers, but the besiegers redoubled their vigilance, and surprise was thenceforth a matter of impossibility. The most serious engagement that occurred after this, took place about the 22d, and was forced by the besieged for the purpose of destroying William's heavy guns before they could be got into position. Issuing out in force, at mid-day, they assailed the enemy's centre with such vigor that they drove it from the trenches; the Prince, who was present, retreated towards his quarters; but falling in his hurry, he had scarcely arisen when a cannonball tore up the very spot on which he had fallen, and after receiving a serious contusion from a fragment of a rock, splintered by the shot, he was carried to Ireton's Tower, nor did he appear again until the final assault. But the sortie ended in the repulse of the besieged, and the guns were rescued and placed in position.
This was the last sally from the garrison. The siege was now pressed with terrible energy by the besiegers, and the besieged, no less determined, addressed themselves to resist the final assault which now appeared imminent. By the 24th, William's entire artillery had been brought to bear on every vulnerable point within range, while his lines of circumvallation drew closer and closer to the walls. Six batteries lay along his entire front, disposed, according to his historian, in the following manner: The first, of eight eighteen-pounders, bore against the southern angle of the wall, opposite to the Danish quarters; the second, of eight twenty-fours, against St. John's Gate and the Black Battery which stood within the city behind it; the third, of twelve field-pieces, against the sally-port which opened near the bridge; and the fourth and fifth, of four heavy guns each—the former against the bridge itself, and the latter against the bastion which stood near it on the left—while behind them a floor had been constructed for a battery of four mortars, which poured a stream of red-hot shot and shell on every prominent object beyond the wall. Day and night, the fire from all was sustained with unabated vigor, until the 27th, when the outer works, before St. John's Gate, were demolished, and a breach, two hundred yards in width, was effected in the wall, opening up the very heart of the city, when William slackened his fire and again summoned it to surrender.[46]
The besieged were now hard pressed;—the trenches of the besiegers were within two toises[47] of the palisades in front of the breach, and overlooked them, so that they had but to step over to find themselves on the level and unobstructed area around the city gate. The Irish fort on King's Island, which until now had thrown a slanting fire across the enemy's right, was dismantled and its guns removed to the Black Battery to defend the breach; the wall, along its whole front, was rendered untenable to the musketeers; and the cavalry were withdrawn across the river, for the guns bearing on the bridge threatened the destruction of their only line of communication. Still, the English town itself was impregnable, being situated on low ground, which could be easily inundated by a flood-gate on the main channel of the river; the English cavalry, too, had been withdrawn from the island, and the whole fury of their guns concentrated on the Irish town. Such was the condition of the garrison when de Boïsselau received the second summon from the Prince of Orange, and, believing that further resistance was useless, he consulted the Irish generals and advised them to accept an accommodation. But he was opposed by the general voice. The soldiers were unanimous for resistance to the last; the citizens appealed against a surrender; the women declared that they would rather be torn piecemeal by the artillery than be subject to the barbarities of William's soldiers. The general voice prevailed, and de Boïsselau withdrawing from the city, declined further responsibility.
The herald was accordingly dismissed with an indignant refusal to the Prince's message, when the bombardment was again renewed, and active preparations were made for storming the city. For this purpose William selected 10,000 men from the different regiments, and formed them into supporting columns, under leaders of approved valor and experience. Five hundred British grenadiers were to lead the assault; the Dutch and Danish troops were to follow, and be sustained by the Huguenots in turn, while the Brandenburgers, English and Enniskilleners, were to bring up the rear. Biding these preparations, the artillery was to keep up its fire along the whole line, and when it ceased, three guns, fired in rapid succession, was to put all in motion, and be the signal of assault.
Meanwhile the Irish generals had made the best disposition of their force to meet the impending event. The bulk of their infantry was divided into four columns: two drawn back on each side of the breach, so that each of the opposite columns could meet promptly in front or rear of the assailing parties; the musketeers were posted in every available position on the wall, and the guns of the Black Battery were loaded with grape to rake the breach as they entered. Farther back, near the square of the city, a body was held in reserve to support the battery, and to give succor wherever it became necessary, while Brigadier Talbot, with five hundred of the Guards, was posted on the right, to guard against any surprise from the enemy in that quarter. The streets were filled with citizens armed with every available weapon, and with groups of women, the sad spectators of the approaching conflict.
It was three o'clock in the afternoon when the fire of the enemy's cannon ceased along the whole line, and the assaulting columns, in their varicolored uniforms of buff, blue, and scarlet, moved down to the intrenchments as gayly as if on parade, and halted. The fire within the town also ceased, and an ominous silence settled over the scene, the combatants on each side, standing with bated breath, and as motionless as statues. An unusual drought prevailed,—not a drop of rain had fallen for three weeks;[48] the weather was intensely hot, and the sun threw a flood of unobstructed light upon dome and spire, while the river glided away through its autumnal foliage, as placid as if peace had returned and war should revisit it no more. Some time passed on, and suspense was becoming painful, when the signal: one! two! three! pealed forth. The British grenadiers were over the palisades in a twinkling, hurling their destructive missiles, and followed by the Dutch Guards, while the cannon rang out again along the whole front, excepting the point of assault. So quick was the movement, that the Irish troops, though awaiting it, were actually taken by surprise, and the grenadiers had reached the breach before they met with any opposition. Here, they were checked by a shower of grape that did great execution; still they pressed on with a headlong impulse, mounted the breach, and passed the first line of guards drawn up to oppose them. But they were destined to go no farther; another storm of grape tore through their ranks, the Irish Guards closed in on them, front and rear, cutting them off from their supports, and assailing them with such fury that in a short time they were nearly all slain, only four or five escaping out of this gallant body, which was reckoned the flower of the English army. The Dutch Guards pressed boldly on, and under the eye of their Prince, performed prodigies of valor; several times they bore back the defenders from the breach, and were as often repulsed through it; but being continually reinforced from the other divisions outside, the Irish troops were gradually forced back into the city, where they divided right and left, still disputing every inch of the way. William now threw forward a Brandenburg regiment to storm the Black Battery, and, filling up the breach with his remaining columns, prepared to enter the city. While this conflict raged along the widening expanse inside, the fire of the enemy's batteries was unabated; the soldiers were driven from the parapets; the populace from the house-tops; the city was on fire in several places, and "it seemed," says an eye-witness, "as if the heavens were rent, and the smoke that arose from the town reached, in one continued cloud, to the top of a mountain six miles off."
The whole storming force was now engaged within the breach, and the way was literally strewn with its dead and wounded; but the besieged, despite the most heroic resistance, were gradually borne back by the heavy masses continually hurled on them, inspiring redoubled energy with every accession. The Brandenburg regiment had captured the battery, and, having seized the guns, were turning them against its defenders, who were retreating from it in apparent consternation. William, who now stood at Ireton's Tower, looked on in proud anticipation of success; the city seemed completely within his grasp, and pushing forward his last reserve, he viewed exultantly the engagement which was to complete his triumph.
It was now near seven o'clock; the sun was sinking behind the western headlands, and still the battle raged with unabated fury. Throughout the long hours of this sanguinary conflict, the populace, men and women, stood by in painful suspense, watching the tide of fortune as it stood or swayed before them, and now it became manifest that every effort of valor was exhausted, and the doom of their city at last was sealed. Oppressed by odds, their brave defenders were giving way, and the battery, the last obstruction to the advancing foe, was in the possession of the Brandenburgers. A wild cry of despair rung up from all; their last hope was gone: at this moment a terrific explosion shook the city to its centre; a dark cloud overspread the combatants, and clearing away, it was seen that the mine beneath the battery had been sprung, and the whole Brandenburg regiment had been blown to atoms!
Consternation seized on the besiegers; even the besieged, though expecting the event, were for a moment astonished, and each stood as it were paralyzed and watching each other in amazement. But the advantage was not lost; the men braced themselves again for the contest, the women rushed forward, calling on the men to follow, and with one impulse threw themselves in front of the enemy. The effect was electric; all caught the inspiration; generals, soldiers, citizens; all, with one desperate effort, hurled themselves on the masses of William, and bore them back bodily through the breach. In the mean time Brigadier Talbot, anticipating the result, led his men round the outside of the wall, and attacking the rear of the assaulting force with great spirit, put it into inextricable confusion; panic-stricken, they fled precipitately from the city, pursued to their camp by the victorious Irish—and Limerick was saved.