passage, and had placed some battalions of infantry there.

General Talmash, who commanded the English cavalry, knew that the battle
was lost, unless he could succeed at this point; and, at the head of his
command, he led the way along the pass, which was not only narrow, but
broken and encumbered with the ruins of the castle wall. Saint Ruth
beheld the attempt of the cavalry with astonishment, and, with the
remark: "They are brave fellows, it is a pity they should be sacrificed,"
sent orders for the Irish horse to move forward and prepare to charge
them; and moved down the hill at the head of his officers to the battery.

There is no doubt as to what the result would have been, had the Irish
horse charged. They were greatly superior in number, and the English
cavalry who had got across the passage were still in confusion, and were
suffering from the fire of the battery, and, indeed, even when in equal
numbers, William's cavalry had never withstood the charge of the Irish.
It seemed that nothing could avert the defeat of the body on which
Ginckle's last hope rested.

But at this moment one of those events, by which Providence overrules the
calculations of man, occurred. A cannonball struck Saint Ruth, as he
stood in the middle of the battery and killed him instantly. The
occurrence paralysed the Irish army. Sarsfield was away, there was no one
to give orders, the news that some extraordinary calamity had happened
spread rapidly, the men in the battery ceased firing, the cavalry,
receiving no orders to charge, remained immovable.

Talmash took advantage of the pause to get the rest of his cavalry across
the passage, and then, with his whole force, moved towards the centre. As
he approached, the idea that the unknown calamity, of which they had