Ireton, says Ludlow, ‘was so great a friend of justice, even where an enemy was concerned, that, though Colonel Axtell was a person extraordinarily qualified ... he suspended him from his employment.’ A court-martial had found that he killed prisoners who had been promised quarter by soldiers, though not by himself. This seems to have been in the attack on Meelick. Tothill was now charged with the same offence and deprived of his regiment, his ensign being also cashiered. Tothill pleaded that he thought no one could grant quarter but the commanding officer, and that the Lord Deputy would be angry if he showed mercy. Ireton said the punishment was too little for the offence and the excuses equally abominable, ‘for the base and servile fear pretended in the latter part, as for the pride of spirit predominate in the former.’ He was somewhat consoled by the fact that Ingoldsby spared all lives on his side.[210]
Fruitless negotiations, June.
Non-combatants turned out of Limerick.
Disaster to the besiegers, June 23.
Ireton’s explanation.
On the same day that the castle on the weir was taken, the garrison of Limerick sent out a drum in answer to Ireton’s summons. A truce was asked for, hostages to be given by the Deputy during the time that the representatives of the besieged were in his camp. Both conditions were refused, but Ireton had no objection to treat for a capitulation, and six commissioners were sent out, two for the garrison, two for the citizens, and two for the clergy, a like number being named by the Deputy. Among the former were Major-General Purcell and Geoffrey Baron, one of the late Supreme Council; among the latter, Ludlow, Waller, and Colonel Henry Cromwell. They met in a tent between town and camp, dined together every day, and discussed the terms in a leisurely way; but Limerick did not yet despair of relief, and the negotiations came to nothing. Meanwhile, the bombardment continued, two bridges being thrown across the Shannon, one of wood at Castleconnell and the other of boats or floats, below the weir. O’Neill tried to reduce the number of useless mouths by driving non-combatants out of the town. On one occasion Ireton ordered that four of these poor wretches should be knocked on the head, but the order was wrongly given, and forty were killed—‘an act much disgusted by his Excellency.’ The castle on Thomond Bridge was stormed after many hand-grenades had been thrown in; which, strange to say, failed to ignite some barrels of powder specially laid to blow up the assailants. An open arch under the drawbridge was filled up with rubbish and faggots, so that the captured work could be used against the town; but the garrison broke down other arches, and there appeared to be no chance of entering that way. As soon as the floating bridge was finished, Ireton fortified the Clare end of it, and transferred the bulk of his army to the county Limerick side. More than a dozen boats were laden with men, and an attempt was made to seize the upper end of King’s Island, upon the lower end of which a large part of Limerick stands; but here the besiegers met with a serious reverse. Four boats got over safely, under Major Walker, who had been distinguished at O’Brien’s Bridge, and three other officers. Finding no resistance at first, the men got out of hand and ran through the enemies’ line up to a fort in the middle of the island. The garrison sallied out and drove them back to their boats and to a fifth which was just coming ashore, so that nearly all were either shot or drowned. ‘We find missing,’ Ireton wrote, ‘eighty-six or eighty-seven men, besides the four commissioned officers aforementioned, and not more whatever may be reported.’ Abundant reinforcements were at hand, but before order was restored it was broad daylight, and nothing more could be done. A night attack is always risky, and Ireton acknowledges that there was mismanagement; but some of Tothill’s men who had broken faith with the enemy were among those who perished, and on that account, he adds, ‘that most justly the Lord hath rebuked us, and cast reproach and confusion of face upon us.’[211]
Athlone Castle taken, June 18.
Ludlow in Clare, July.
Ireton’s devotion to duty.
The next day was set apart as one of humiliation for the sins of the army, and on the following came the news that Coote had taken Athlone Castle. Great efforts were made to relieve Limerick. Muskerry had about 5000 men in Kerry, with whom he intended to join Fitzpatrick, who collected what was left of the Leinster forces at Galbally, near the Glen of Aherlow. Meanwhile, David Roche was active with some 3000 men in Clare, and Ludlow was detached to look after him. Roche, who was besieging Carrigaholt, which had been but lately taken, drew off as soon as he heard that Ludlow had passed the Fergus, and Captain Lucas took the opportunity of slipping out with his men, whom he brought safe to the Parliamentary camp. Roche then occupied the passage of the river at Inch Cronan, so as to prevent Ludlow from returning to Limerick; but his party were soon routed by a superior force of cavalry. Some skirmishing took place among woods and bogs, during which Connor O’Brien of Leamaneh, who commanded a regiment of horse, and was perhaps the most considerable person in Clare, was shot. The Irish were so light of foot that Ludlow could do but little execution; but Carrigaholt was burned or blown up, whether by him or by Roche does not seem quite certain; it was too remote to have much effect on military operations. Having dispersed the Clare gathering and made all safe on that side, Ludlow rejoined Ireton, and while the engineers were pushing on the siege works accompanied him to Killaloe, where he repaired or rebuilt the bridge. The Lord Deputy ‘rode so hard that he spoiled many horses, and hazarded some of the men; but he was so diligent in the public service, and so careless of everything that belonged to himself, that he never regarded what clothes or food he used, what hour he went to rest, or what horse he mounted.’ As a cavalry leader he might have done better by giving heed to Francesco Sforza, one of whose three leading principles was never to ride a horse that stumbled or cast its shoes.[212]