engagements had been as sure as
they were false and fleeting, they would have weighed little with this
gallant old nobleman. Ormond replied, that, if the rebels would lay down
their arms and sue for mercy, they might perhaps find it; but for
himself, "if his country were wasted, his castles won or prostrate, and
himself exiled, yet would he never shrink to persevere in his duty to
the king to the death."[344] Failing here, and having at the same time
received a check in a skirmish, Fitzgerald next endeavoured to gain
time. The Irish clans were gathering, but they were still at a distance,
and his own presence was instantly required elsewhere. He offered a
truce, therefore; and to this Ormond, being hard pressed by the Earl of
Desmond, was ready to consent. But it was only treachery. Ormond broke
up his camp, and his people were scattered; and within three days,
O'Neile having joined Fitzgerald, he was taken at a disadvantage; his
son, Lord James, was severely wounded; and a cordon of Irish being drawn
round him, to prevent him from relieving Dublin, the rebel army hastened
back to renew the siege.[345] They had the cannon with them which
Kildare had taken from the castle,[346] but were happily ill-provided
with ammunition, or resistance would have been desperate. The siege
opened at the beginning of September. The month passed away, and the
place was still untaken. If the deputy would only arrive, there was
still time to save it. Each hour he was looked for, yet through these
priceless days he was loitering at Beaumaris. From the fatality which
has for ever haunted the dealings of English statesmen with Ireland, an
old man past work, weak in health, and with all the moral deficiencies
of a failing constitution, had been selected to encounter a dangerous
rebellion. The insurrection had broken out in June; every moment was
precious, the loss of a day might be the loss of the whole country; yet
it was now the fourth of October; the ships were loaded; the horses were
on board; they had been on board a fortnight, and were sickening from
confinement. The wind was fair, at that critical season of the year a
matter of incalculable importance. Yet Skeffington was still "not
ready."[347] All would have been lost but for the Earl of Ormond. The
city was at the last extremity, when he contrived to force his way
through the Irish into Kildare; he again laid waste the country, and
destroyed the newly-gathered harvests.[348] On the 14t