than the former, could not be tempted to pursue. They had received volley after volley, and still contented themselves with maintaining their ground, without being able to return the fire with any effect. Like the former division, they were looking anxiously for the British horse, but could only see the Irish cavalry assembling in large masses, and preparing to charge them; while the infantry were leaving the cover of the hedges, and forming to support the charge.

Hitherto the Irish had been victorious at every point. In the obstinate conflict of their right with the British left, they had repeatedly repulsed and driven back the enemy; and though he continued to renew his attacks, he had as yet met with no success. The main attack upon which Ginckle depended was that of the centre, composed of the flower of the British infantry. They had done their duty nobly, but the attack had failed, and the division was almost annihilated.

The second division, which had passed the bog, now stood in a perilous position, and in danger of being utterly destroyed. At this moment a tumult was heard on the left wing of the Irish it was from that quarter that the British division expected relief. The Irish knew that the fate of the battle depended upon the passage at Aughrim. They suspended their attack upon the division before them for an instant,

to catch the events on the left; but nothing could be learned more than what was announced by the smoke and rapid discharges of musketry and artillery. It was certain that the interest of the battle was now in that quarter.

St. Ruth had directed the operations of the engagement with as much skill as he had planned them. He had taken his position on a point of the hill whence he had a complete view of the field of battle. From the commencement of the action he had expressed the warmest approbation of the conduct of the Irish troops. He had beheld with astonishment the daring progress of the British infantry across the bog, and marked their resolute attack upon his centre with dread and admiration; and when at length they were routed, and almost destroyed, he exclaimed, in the full confidence of victory, "Now I will drive the English to the walls of Dublin."

He did not speak lightly. The strength of the British lay in their infantry; and the flower of that infantry was cut down in the four regiments which had nearly perished. Ginckle had no longer any Dutch infantry. William, who always kept these troops near his person, had taken them with him to the Continent; the rest were chiefly foreigners. In cavalry the Irish were stronger both in number and quality of the troops; in artillery the English had a great superiority; but St. Ruth's position deprived

Their cannon could

them of this advantage. not cross the bog; and though their shot told upon the hill of Kilcomoden, they could not bring their fire to bear upon the foot of the hill, where the brunt of the battle was fought, their own infantry being interposed. St. Ruth had, therefore, good reason to expect a favourable issue of the combat.

The fate of the battle now depended on the struggle at Aughrim. On the left the English had failed to make good their passage; in the centre they were beaten. Talmash, general of cavalry, and a man remarkable for a daring courage, saw that all was lost unless a desperate effort were made to restore the battle. He commanded the squadron of horse to which the severe task was intrusted of forcing the passage by the castle of Aughrim.

The pass at Aughrim did not admit more. than two horse abreast, keeping as close as possible to the castle-wall. St. Ruth had seen it; but thought it impassable for cavalry. He might easily have made it so, if he had not again fallen into an error similar to that he had so deliberately committed at Athlone, in considering that to be impossible which was, nevertheless, accomplished by British troops. He had, however, taken the precaution to erect a battery, which commanded the pass. Through the fire of this battery and of some battalions of infantry

Talmash was now making his way, at the head of the British horse. The pass was not only narrow, but broken, and encumbered with the rubbish of the castle-wall.

St. Ruth beheld the attempt of the cavalry with astonishment; but could not comprehend what it meant. He asked his French officers, but they could not explain the movement. His Irish officers, better acquainted with what British troops could do, replied, that the cavalry were forcing their way to the support of the infantry in the centre. They are brave fellows," said St. Ruth; "it is a pity they should be so exposed." Saying this, he sent orders to the Irish horse to move forward, and prepare to charge the British cavalry; and proceeded himself down the hill, at the head of his officers, to direct the gunners at the battery how to point their fire.

The battle rested upon the charge of cavalry that had been ordered; and there is little reason to doubt what the result would have been if it had been made. The English cavalry, though a considerable body had passed the castle, were still not half the number of the squadrons that were moving against them. They were also in great disorder from the desperate and perilous effort they had made, and had suffered not a little from the fire of the battery through which they passed. Added to this, William's cavalry

had never stood the charge of the Irish, even where the numbers were equal. St. Ruth admired the gallantry of Talmash and his horse, but he knew that they were lost men.

And they were so, no doubt, if he had not been lost himself. He had reached the battery, and was giving directions to the gunner how to point his guns, when he was struck by a cannonball and killed. He stood in the midst of a crowd, and no man was hurt but himself. His death was instantaneous. There was but this one man of the many thousands who swarmed that day upon the hill of Kilcomoden whose death could have saved the British army; and he was slain. The event, if it was mere chance, was a remarkable one. An aide-de-camp threw a cloak over St. Ruth's body, and it was conveyed up the hill, and carried to the rear.

The news of some extraordinary calamity having happened spread rapidly through the Irish army. The fire from the battery where St. Ruth had been killed was discontinued; considerable confusion prevailed, without its being known distinctly what had occurred; the horse had moved forward to the spot where they were to receive the order to charge, and drew up and waited, but no order came; other bodies of cavalry that were advancing to support them, seeing they did not move, halted also. Talmash,