The battle did not begin till about six in the evening, by which time the sun was well in the eyes of the Scots. The wind was also against them, and there were clouds of dust and smoke. Monro’s guns were placed on high ground, but they did little damage, the round shot going over the heads of O’Neill’s men as they descended into the plain, which was full of bushes and scrubby timber. Monro’s front was too narrow, and there were no proper intervals for his rear divisions to come out in front. So learned a general might have remembered something about the Roman maniples. Overcrowding resulted in confusion, and this was increased by a squadron of his own cavalry, ‘consisting,’ as he says, ‘for the most part of Irish riders, although under the English command, who did not charge, but retreated disorderly through our foot, making the enemies’ horse for to follow them at least one squadron.’ He thought they were at least half traitors. The foot fought on bravely till sunset, when they broke and fled. The majority sought the neighbouring ford of the Blackwater, where Battleford Bridge now is, and the slaughter there was frightful. Sir Phelim O’Neill, who commanded the horse, specially charged his men to take no prisoners and to give no quarter. Others fled towards Caledon, and many of them were drowned in Knocknacloy Lake. Of those who crossed the river a large number were killed in passing through the county of Armagh. Most of the horse escaped with Monro, who acknowledges a loss of 500 or 600 men; but the Irish accounts say that from 3000 to 4000 bodies were counted. A long train of carts followed the army, so that many camp-followers were probably killed, and the truth is likely to be somewhere between the two extremes. The Irish slain were under forty, and the wounded under 250. George Monro got back to Coleraine without the loss of a man. Monro’s wig, cloak, sword, and cap fell into the victor’s hands with thirty-two colours and the standard of the cavalry. Even those who escaped for the most part threw away their arms, which enabled O’Neill to enrol fresh men. Lord Blayney, who commanded the artillery, was killed, all his guns being taken. Lord Montgomery of Ardes, who led the cavalry during the battle, was taken prisoner with about twenty other officers. Monro’s army was not annihilated, but it was to a great extent disarmed, and ceased to be an aggressive force. Over-confidence was certainly one main cause of his defeat. ‘The Lord of Hosts,’ he says himself, ‘had a controversy with us to rub shame on our faces, as on other armies, till once we shall be humbled; for a greater confidence did I never see.’ The ‘British Officer’ agrees that this was the chief cause of disaster; also mentioning the sun and wind and the long march, and that the soldiers, who had had little rest or refreshment since leaving Lisburn, stood to their arms for at least five hours. Another reason, he adds, is ‘that the Irish pikes were longer by a foot or two than the Scottish pikes, and far better to pierce, being four square and small, and the other pikes broad-headed, which are the worst in the world. Withal to my knowledge, the soldiers, I mean some that were not strong in the British army for his pike on a windy day, would cut off a foot, and some two, of their pikes—which is a damned thing to be suffered.’[91]
Small results of the victory.
Rejoicings at Limerick,
and at Rome.
The nuncio’s donative.
Military authorities are agreed that the general who wins a great victory ought to pursue his beaten enemy to the uttermost. One reason why O’Neill did not do this may have been that he was afraid of Sir Robert Stewart falling upon Tyrone in his absence; but he was a man of few words, and it does not appear that he ever said as much. He raised new regiments, which he armed with the spoils of victory, and waited for orders from Kilkenny. Want of money was no doubt a cause of delay. His appearance at Augher caused Stewart to retire towards Londonderry, and O’Neill lay inactive, first at Tanderagee and then at Loughanlea in Cavan. Four days after the battle he sent Boetius MacEgan, an eminent Franciscan, to Limerick with a letter to Rinuccini, who was quite certain that a miracle had taken place. The Jesuit O’Hartegan, who had returned from France, followed with the captured colours, which were carried in procession through Limerick to the cathedral. The people filled the streets and windows, the Te Deum was sung by the nuncio’s choir, and high mass afterwards by the Dean of Fermo in the presence of four bishops and of the civic magistrates. When the news reached Rome, Innocent X. attended at Santa Maria Maggiore and heard a Te Deum sung there also. Rinuccini was sure that if he had only money enough he could make the greater part of Ireland obedient to the Pope. All his letters declare that money would do almost everything in Ireland; but it was a scarce commodity, and without it even the clergy could not ‘keep the soldiers quiet and united.’ The nuncio had still a little left, and he despatched Dean Massari to Ulster, who gave three rials to each soldier and larger sums to the officers. The donative was small, but it tended to foster the notion that it was the nuncio’s war, and that little regard need be paid to the viceroy or to the Council at Kilkenny, where Anglo-Irish influences were in the ascendant.
Roscommon taken.
O’Neill forced to let his men plunder.
Preston had also been successful in Connaught, but the capture of Roscommon, though important, paled before the glories of Benburb. Neither general was in a condition to attack Sligo. Preston had no ammunition for a siege, no means of drawing his guns over the Curlew hills, and no money to pay his men. Even the sums promised—for they had not arrived at the end of July—were not enough to last for a week on active service. The country was so wasted that everyone would have to carry a month’s provisions with him, and this could only be had for ready money. Ormonde urged Preston to reduce Connaught before the summer season slipped away, but admitted that little help in money for the Leinster army could be expected from Leinster. Both Preston and O’Neill offered Rinuccini to march on Dublin, looking no doubt to him for the means; but he refused because Dumoulin, the French agent, was there, lest the Pope might be embroiled with the Most Christian King. The part of that province which bordered on Ulster was overrun by O’Neill’s men, who plundered all classes and creeds impartially, so that they appeared as conquerors rather than allies. Ormonde attributed it ‘to the necessities imposed on General O’Neill for want of means to go on or to keep his men in better order where he is.’[92]
Rinuccini works against the peace.