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.