bers; and as there were many useless mouths in the city, they began to be reduced to extremities for want of provision. They had even the mortification to see some ships, which had arrived with supplies from England, prevented from sailing up the river by a boom and by the batteries of the enemy. General Kirke attempted in vain to come to their assistance. All he could do was to promise them speedy relief, and to exhort them to bear their miseries a little longer, with assurances of a glorious termination of them all. They had now consumed the last remains of their provision, and supported life by eating horses, dogs, and all kinds of vermin, while even this loathsome food began to fail them. They had still farther the misery of seeing above four thousand of their fellow-protestants, from different parts of the country, driven by Rosen, James's general, under the walls of the town, where they were kept three whole days without provisions. Kirke, in the mean time, who had been sent to their relief, continued inactive, debating with himself between the prudence and necessity of his assistance. At last, receiving intelligence that the garrison, sunk with fatigue and famine, had sent proposals of capitulation, he resolved upon an attempt to throw provisions into the place, by means of three victuallers, and a frigate to cover them. As soon as these vessels sailed up the river, the eyes of all were fixed upon them; the besiegers eager to destroy, and the garrison as resolute for their defence. The foremost of the victuallers at the first shock broke the boom, but was stranded by the violence of her own shock. Upon this a shout burst from the besiegers, which reached the camp and the city. They advanced with fury against a prize which they considered as inevitable; while the smoke of cannon on both sides wrapped the whole scene in darkness. But, to the astonish

ment of all, in a little time the victualler was seen emerging from imminent danger, having gotten off by the rebound of her own guns, while she led up her little squadron to the very walls of the town. The joy of the inhabitants, at this unexpected relief, was only equalled by the rage and disappointment of the besiegers, who were so dispirited by the success of this enterprise, that they abandoned the siege in the night, and retired with precipitation, after having lost above nine thousand men before the place. Kirke no sooner took possession of the town than Walker was prevailed on to embark for England, with an address of thanks to king William, for the seasonable relief they had received.

The Enniskilleners were no less remarkable than the former for the valour and perseverance with which they espoused the interests of William. And indeed the bigotry and cruelty of the papists upon that occasion were sufficient to rouse the tamest into opposition. The protestants, by an act of the popish parliament under king James, were divested of those lands which they had possessed since the Irish rebellion. Two thousand five hundred persons of that persuasion, who had sought safety by flight, were found guilty of treason, and attainted. Soldiers were permitted to live upon free quarter; the people were plundered; the shops of tradesmen, and the kitchens of the citizens were pillaged, to supply a quantity of brass, which was con verted into coin, and passed, by royal mandate, for above forty times its real value. Not content with this, James imposed, by his own authority, a tax of twenty thousand pounds a month on personal property, and levied it by a commission under the great seal. All vacancies in public schools were supplied by popish teachers. The pension allowed from the exchequer to

the university of Dublin was cut off, and that institution converted into a popish seminary. Brigadier Sarsfield commanded all protestants of a certain district to retire to the distance of ten miles from their habitations, on pain of death; many perished with hunger, still more by being forced from their homes during the severest inclemencies of the season.

But their sufferings were soon to have an end. William at length perceived that his neglect of Ireland had been an error that required more than usual diligence to redress. He was afraid to send the late king's army to fight against him, and therefore ordered twenty-three new regiments to be raised for that purpose. These, with two Dutch battalions, and four of French refugees, together with the Enniskilleners, were appointed for the reduction of Ireland; and, next to king William himself, Schomberg was appointed to command.

Schomberg was an officer of German extraction, who had long been the faithful servant of William, and had now passed a life of eighty years almost continually in the field. The method of carrying on the war in Ireland, however, was a mode of operation with which he was entirely unacquainted. The forces he had to combat were incursive, barbarous, and shy; those he had to command were tumultuary, ungovernable, and brave. He considered not the dangers which threatened the health of his troops by being confined to one place; and he kept them in a low moist camp, near Dundalk, almost without firing of any kind; so that the men fell into fevers and fluxes, and died in great abundance. The enemy was not less afflicted with similar disorders. Both armies remained for some time in sight of each other; and at last, the rainy season approaching, both,

if by mutual agreement, quitted their camps at

the same time, and retired into winter quarters, without attempting to take the advantage of each other's

retreat.

The bad success of the campaign and the A. D. miserable situation of the protestants in Ireland, 1690. at length induced king William to attempt their relief in person, at the opening of the ensuing spring; and he accordingly landed at Carrickfergus, where he found himself at the head of an army of six and thirty thousand effective men, which was more than a match for the forces of James, although they amounted to above ten thousand more.

William having received news that the French fleet had sailed for the coast of England, resolved, by measures of speed and vigour, to prevent the impression which that circumstance might make upon the minds of his soldiers; and therefore hastened to advance against James, who, he heard, had quitted Dublin, and had stationed his army at Ardee and Dundalk.

All the measures taken by William were dictated by prudence and valour; those pursued by his opponents seemed dictated by obstinacy and infatuation. They neglected to harass him in his difficult march from the north; they neglected to oppose him at the strong pass at Newry; as he advanced they fell back first from Dundalk, and then from Ardee; and at last they fixed their camp in a strong station, on the other side of the Boyne. It was upon the opposite banks of this river that both armies came in sight of each other, inflamed with all the animosities arising from religion, hatred, and revenge. The river Boyne at this place was not so deep but that men might wade over on foot; however, the banks were rugged, and rendered dangerous by old houses and ditches, which served to defend the latent enemy. William had no sooner arrived, than he rode

along the bank of the river, in sight of both armies, to make proper observations upon the plan of battle; but in the mean time, being perceived by the enemy, a cannon was privately brought out and planted against him, where he was sitting. The shot killed several of his followers; and he himself was wounded in the shoulder. A report of his being slain was instantly propagated through the Irish camp, and even reached Paris; but William, as soon as his wound was dressed, rode through the camp, and quickly undeceived his army.

Upon retiring to his tent, after the danger of the day, he continued in meditation till nine o'clock in the evening, when, for the sake of form, he summoned a council of war, in which, without asking advice, he declared his resolution to force a passage over the river the next morning. The duke of Schomberg attempted at first to expostulate with him upon the danger of the undertaking; but, finding his master inflexible, he retired to his tent with a discontented aspect, as if he had a prescience of his own misfortune.

July 1,

Early in the morning, at six o'clock, king 1690. William gave orders to force a passage over the river. This the army undertook in three different places; and, after a furious cannonading, the battle began with unusual vigour. The Irish troops, though reckoned equal to any in Europe abroad, have always fought indifferently at home. After an obstinate resistance, they fled with precipitation, leaving the French the Swiss regiments who came to their assistance, to make the best retreat they could. William led on his horse in person, and contributed, by his activity and vigilance to secure the victory. James was not in the battle, but stood aloof, during the action, on the hill of Donore, surrounded with some squadrons of horse; and, at intervals, was heard to exclaim, when he saw his own