he had determined to bring the fate of Ireland to
issue seems to have been chosen with great judgment. His army was drawn
up on the slope of a hill, which was almost surrounded by red bog. In
front, near the edge of the morass, were some fences out of which a
breastwork was without difficulty constructed.

On the eleventh of July, Ginkell, having repaired the fortifications
of Athlone and left a garrison there, fixed his headquarters at
Ballinasloe, about four miles from Aghrim, and rode forward to take a
view of the Irish position. On his return he gave orders that ammunition
should be served out, that every musket and bayonet should be got ready
for action, and that early on the morrow every man should be under arms
without beat of drum. Two regiments were to remain in charge of the
camp; the rest, unincumbered by baggage, were to march against the
enemy.

Soon after six, the next morning, the English were on the way to Aghrim.
But some delay was occasioned by a thick fog which hung till noon
over the moist valley of the Suck; a further delay was caused by the
necessity of dislodging the Irish from some outposts; and the afternoon
was far advanced when the two armies at length confronted each other
with nothing but the bog and the breastwork between them. The English
and their allies were under twenty thousand; the Irish above twenty-five
thousand.

Ginkell held a short consultation with his principal officers. Should
he attack instantly, or wait till the next morning? Mackay was for
attacking instantly; and his opinion prevailed. At five the battle
began. The English foot, in such order as they could keep on treacherous
and uneven ground, made their way, sinking deep in mud at every step, to
the Irish works. But those works were defended with a resolution such as
extorted some words of ungracious eulogy even from men who entertained
the strongest prejudices against the Celtic race. [107] Again and again
the assailants were driven back. Again and again they returned to the
struggle. Once they were broken, and chased across the morass; but
Talmash rallied them, and forced the pursuers to retire. The fight had
lasted two hours; the evening was closing in; and still the advantage
was on the side of the Irish. Ginkell began to meditate a retreat. The
hopes of Saint Ruth rose high. "The day is ours, my boys," he cried,
waving his hat in the air. "We will drive them before us to the walls of
Dublin." But fortune was alre