English army so hardly gotten, was now vanished.' Yet Mr. Froude does
not, in this, lay the blame of defeat upon the _nationality_ of the
vanquished. It is only the Irish nation that is made the scape-goat in
such cases.

It was July, but the weather was wet, the rivers were high, Ormond was
ill, Sussex would not leave his friend, and so the English army stayed
in town doing nothing till the end of the month, when their failing
provisions admonished them that an Irish hosting would be desirable.
O'Neill, who seems to have been aware of the state of things,
presented the appropriate temptation. 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,