n. Spies brought the lord deputy
word that in the direction of Cavan there were herds of cows, which
an active party might easily capture. These spies, with ardent
professions of loyalty, offered to guide the English troops to the
place where the booty would be found, their object being to draw them
among bogs and rivers where they might be destroyed. The lord deputy
did not think it necessary to accompany this host, which consisted of
200 horse, 500 men-at-arms, and some hundreds of the loyal Irish of
the Pale. Shane intended to attack them the first night while resting
on their march. But they escaped by an alteration of the route. Next
morning they were marching on the open plain, miles from any shelter
of hill or wood, when the Irish chief, with less than half their
number, pursued them, and fell upon the cavalry in the rear, with
the cry, '_Laundarg Aboo_--the Bloody Hand--Strike for O'Neill!' The
English cavalry commanded by Wingfield, seized with terror, galloped
into the ranks of their own men-at-arms, rode them down, and
extricated themselves only to fly panic-stricken from the field to the
crest of an adjoining hill. Meantime, Shane's troopers rode through
the broken ranks, cutting down the footmen on all sides. The yells and
cries were heard far off through the misty morning air. Fitzwilliam,
who had the chief command, was about a mile in advance at the head
of another body of cavalry, when a horseman was observed by him,
galloping wildly in the distance and waving his handkerchief as a
signal. He returned instantly, followed by his men, and flung himself
into the _melee_. Shane receiving such a charge of those few men, and
seeing more coming after, ran no farther risk, blew a recall note,
and withdrew unpursued. Fitzwilliam's courage alone prevented the army
from being annihilated. Out of 500 English 50 lay dead, and 50 more
were badly wounded. The survivors fell back to Armagh 'so _dismayed_
as to be unfit for farther service.' Pitiable were the lamentations
of the lord deputy to Cecil on this catastrophe. It was, said he, 'by
cowardice the dreadfullest beginning that ever was seen in Ireland.
Ah! Mr. Secretary, what unfortunate star hung over me that day to draw
me, that never could be persuaded to be absent from the army at any
time--to be then absent for a little disease of another man? _The
rearward was the best and picked soldiers in all this land._ If I
or any stout man had been that day with them, we