We embrace the opportunity of saying a few words on the topics of

controversy which have been started between the author of the article which

appeared in our columns on the "Philosophy of Conversion" and his

distinguished opponent; not with the view of following up the line of

attack opened by our able corresponded; but rather, in order to express our

own independent judgment, as a reviewer, on the question discussed, in some

of its important bearings.

Minor questions and side issues we leave to the opinions of those who have

read both sides, and we do not intend to meddle with them ourselves. The

gentleman attacked by Dr. Bacon has presented his view of what

Protestantism is, reduced to its logical elements and constitutive

principles. His opponent says: "I do not recognize that which you describe

as genuine Protestantism." This is all very fair. But he proceeds to infer

that the "Roman philosopher," as he designates the author of the essay in

question, either does not know what Protestantism is, or wilfully

misrepresents it. The doctor also, in turn, attempts to make a statement of

Catholic doctrine, as it appears to his mind, when reduced to its logical

elements. We, on our part, do not recognize this as a true representation.

We might, therefore, with just as much reason recriminate upon Dr. Bacon

his own accusations. We shall not do this, however; if for no other reason,

because these mutual recriminations in controversy are useless. Those who

love the truth can have no motive for misrepresenting the belief and

opinions of any class of men. Sincere Catholics and sincere Protestants

must alike desire that the principles and grounds of both Catholicity and

Protestantism should be placed in the clearest light possible and discussed

upon their naked merits, with as little mixture as may be of questions

concerning the intellectual or moral qualifications of individuals.

The original and genuine religion of New-England was the Calvinistic

Congregationalism of the Puritans, which still survives, with more or less

of modifications among the Orthodox Congregationalists, and has its

principal seat at New-Haven. The temper and tone of mind prevailing among

the clergy and members of this denomination place them at an extremely

remote distance from the Catholic mind, and make any interchange of thought

between the two very difficult.

{105}

With the exception of a slight movement started, without much effect that

we have ever heard of, by the learned and accomplished Dr. Woods, at

Bowdoin College, there has been no tendency in this body of the clergy to

return to any higher church principles than those of the Protestant

Episcopal denomination. It is this latter body which is the medium of

contact between the Catholic Church and the remoter Protestant bodies. It

has therefore first felt the effect of the increased inter-communication of

thought and influence between the two great divisions of Western

Christendom which is characteristic of our time. It is the hierarchical

principle, distinguishing this body from other Protestant communions, upon

which the influence of the Catholic church has been felt, and most of the

controversy has taken this principle as its starting-point. Of course,

therefore, it is in a great measure irrelevant to the question as it stands

between us and the non-episcopal communions, whether these are what is

called evangelical, or liberal, in their theology. We are disposed,

therefore, in addressing members of these communions to give the

_transeat_ to the whole Oxford controversy, and to allow them to think

what they please of the causes which have produced the current setting from

Anglicanism toward Rome. The controversy as between us has to be commenced

_de novo_, and to be carried on upon an entirely different basis.

Circumstances over which neither of us have any control, make this

controversy inevitable. We will confine ourselves, for the present, in

order to simplify the question, to the relations existing between Catholics

and Congregationalists in the State of Connecticut. We say, then, that

these relations make a controversy between us inevitable, just as much as

other circumstances and relations have made it inevitable between Anglicans

and Catholics in England and the United States. The reason of this

necessity is, that we have so many things in common, and so many points of

difference, that we cannot remain quiescent toward each other, except from

isolation in distinct communities, or from mutual apathy to the interests

of Christianity. Forty years ago, when Dr. Bacon was commencing his long

and distinguished career as a pastor in New-Haven, the question of

Catholicity had but little living and present interest for a Connecticut

theologian. It was a question of by-gone ages and distant countries. There

was not a Catholic in New-Haven, and there were few, if any, in the state,

excepting a small handful at Hartford, where the first feeble parish was

collected in a small frame church, purchased by Bishop Fenwick from Bishop

Brownell and dragged on rollers to a new site. We believe there were no

Catholics at that time in Rhode-Island; there were none in Vermont, Maine

or New-Hampshire. There were a few thousands in Massachusetts, mostly

congregated in Boston. The Bishop of Boston, whose diocese included all

New-England, had hardly half a dozen churches besides his very modest

cathedral, or more than a dozen priests. When the saintly Cheverus went to

Boston, his only cathedral was an old barn. As a matter of course, then,

the Catholic religion was looked upon merely as the religion of a few poor

immigrants, a bit of wreck from the institutions of the middle ages cast on

the New-England shore by the caprice of the waves. This habit of looking at

the matter has remained to a great extent unchanged, on account of the

almost complete social segregation of the rapidly increasing Catholic

community. That it cannot remain unchanged, however, is evident to

everyone. There are now fifty priests, one hundred congregations, four

religious orders, and a population of 75,000, belonging to the Catholic

Church in Connecticut. Although, therefore, isolation has rendered the

professors of the traditional religion of the State in a great measure

indifferent to the religion of this new element in the population, thus

far, it cannot continue; and this is apparent from Dr. Bacon's own

statements and views, as expressed in his article.

{106}

Apathy is also out of the question, especially as regards the clergy. It is

evident that the religious and moral doctrines and teachings of the pastors

of one fifth of the people of the State cannot be a matter of apathetic

indifference to anyone who takes an interest in the religious and moral

welfare of his fellow citizens. It follows then, necessarily, that the

leading clergy and theologians of the Congregational body in Connecticut

must engage with great application and industry in the study of the

Catholic system of doctrine and polity, not in second-hand works, but at

the original and authentic sources. They must pay attention also to the

cotemporary Catholic literature, both in the English and in foreign

languages. Studying and thinking on these topics, they will necessarily

write, speak, and converse upon them, and thus the same topics will engage

the attention of of all their brethren in the clerical profession, and of

the intelligent laity. We, on our part, cannot be indifferent to anything

written or spoken by men of learning and high position on the great topics

of religion. Consequently, we say, there must be controversy between us. In

point of fact, a little preliminary controversy has already commenced

between ourselves and the organ of the New-Haven literati.

We will not indulge in any premature gratulations over victories we may

hope to gain for the Catholic cause in controversy with the

Congregationalists, or conversions which may be looked for from among their

ranks. We shall on both sides agree that the truth is likely to prevail in

the end, and that whatever conquests truth may make redound more to the

honor and advantage of the vanquished than of the victors. In expressing

our satisfaction that this controversy is inevitable, we do not intend to

indicate a desire for a _polemical_ controversy in the rigorous sense

of the word. We do not wish to see the Catholic and Protestant pulpits

waging a theological artillery duel against each other; or a violent strife

for mastery, with all the bitter, hostile feelings which it engenders,

inaugurated between the Catholic and Protestant portions of the population.

On the contrary, we have particularly in view in what we are writing at

present, to bring forward certain considerations tending in an entirely

opposite direction. We desire, so far as our humble influence extends, to

forestall controversy of the sort alluded to, and to point out what we

conceive to be the true spirit and manner in which both sides should

approach the subject of the differences which unhappily divide us.

There are two ways in which we may carry on controversy. One way is, for

each side to place its own exclusive truth and right in the strongest

light, to affirm its doctrines in its own peculiar phraseology in the most

positive and dogmatic manner, and to take a position as far remote from

that of the other side, and as unintelligible to its opponents as possible;

moreover, to take the worst and most unfavorable view possible of the

doctrines and positions of the other side, and to impute to them all the

most extreme consequences of their principles which seem to ourselves to

follow logically from them.

Another way, is to conduct controversy, not from the two opposite extremes

of doctrine where the differences is widest and most palpable, but from

those middle terms in which both parties agree, and in relation to which

they are intelligible to each other. From these middle terms we may proceed

to the extremes, and thus endeavor to settle the points in which we differ,

by the aid of those in which we agree. The points of difference also, may

be perhaps reduced by mutual explanations, and a substantial agreement be

proved to exist in some doctrines where there is an apparent contradiction

in the terms used to express them.

{107}

In point of fact, these terms of agreement are numerous, and include the

most fundamental articles of the Catholic faith. The trinity, the

incarnation, the redemption, original sin, the regenerating, sanctifying

grace of the Holy Spirit, the resurrection and eternal life; the necessity

of repentance for sin, and of good works, the canonicity of the principal

books of the Old Testament, and of all those of the New Testament, their

divine inspiration, the obligation of believing all the truths revealed by

God, even if they arc super-intelligible mysteries, on the motive of the

divine veracity; these are all doctrines and principles in which there is a

substantial agreement. Moreover, the New-Haven school has brought the

Calvinistic doctrines in those respect in which it has modified them, into

a nearer approximation to the Catholic doctrines, than they were before. In

regard to the cardinal point of justification, the difference is really

less than it would appear. Although, in the New-Haven theology, faith is

made to include what Catholics call the theological virtue of hope, yet it

includes also that which we call faith, and which the Council of Trent

defines to be the "root of all justification;" that is, a firm, explicit

belief in those revealed truths which are necessary _ex necessitate

medii_, and a belief at least implicit in all other revealed truths. As

Dr. Bacon says, it is held that faith, in order to justify, must be

accompanied by charity, or the love of God. It is our opinion, therefore,

that the New-Haven divines really hold that it is _fides formata_, or

faith informed and vivified by love which justifies, and that this doctrine

is practically preached by the Congregational clergy generally. This is

identically the Catholic doctrine. In this case and in others, the sayings

of the learned Döllinger is verified, that "Protestants and Catholics have

theologically come nearer to each other."

Perhaps we may now be able to explain to Dr. Bacon our notion of

conversion, in a way which will make it appear not quite so repugnant to

his reason and feelings, as it is at present. In order to do this, we will

resort to an illustration, which will make our meaning plain.

We suppose Dr. Bacon will admit that the Jews before the time of our Lord

did not generally have an explicit belief in the trinity or in the divinity

of the Messiah; and that probably the apostles, when they were first called

did not have this explicit belief; although these doctrines, especially the

latter, are really contained in the Old Testament. Nevertheless, all who

were Israelites indeed were in the state of grace, and the children of God.

Let us suppose now, the case of a pious Jew, after the ascension of our

Lord, who neither believed in Jesus as the true Messiah, nor had culpably

and wilfully rejected his claims when sufficiently proposed to him. We

suppose Dr. Bacon will admit that this good man had already saving faith,

justification, the sanctifying grace of the Holy Spirit, was spiritually

united to the universal church of which Christ is the head, and was united

therefore in faith and love with St. Peter, and all the members of the

apostolic communion. St. Peter preaches to him Jesus Christ, and he

believes his word, submits to his authority as the apostle of the Lord, is

baptized, joins himself to the Christian community, and partakes of the

communion. Let us suppose, for the sake of illustration, that this was the

case with Stephen, who became the first martyr.

Let us now take the case of Saul of Tarsus. Without deciding positively

whether Saul was morally culpable or not, for his opposition to

Christianity, we will suppose that he was so. At the time of his going to

Damascus, he was therefore without saving faith, unjustified, destitute of

sanctifying grace, and therefore not spiritually united with the church of

Christ, and with St. Peter and his brethren. By the grace of God Saul

believes in Jesus Christ, is baptized, and openly joins the Christian

communion governed and taught by the apostles.

{108}

Now, in those two cases, we have instances of an interior change of the

intellect and will followed by an exterior change of ecclesiastical

relations, which is properly called a conversion to Christianity. Stephen

and Saul are treated by the apostles and elders of the church in precisely

the same manner, when they apply for baptism. Yet, in the former case, the

interior change is not a conversion of the mind from unbelief to divine

faith, or of the will from sin to the love of God. It is a conversion of

the mind from an inchoate, imperfect apprehension of the revealed object of

faith to a complete and perfect apprehension of the same object more

clearly revealed. It is a conversion of the will from an implicit

determination to submit to the rightful authority of the Messiah, to an

explicit, actual obedience to the Lord Jesus as the Son of God, the

Prophet, Priest and King of the Jews and of the Gentiles.

In the other case, conversion included in itself the renunciation of a

proud, intellectual self-reliance which excluded the spirit of submission

to the authority of God over the mind, and the substitution of the humble,

docile habit of faith; together with a change of the will or heart from a

selfish, cruel devotion to the purely national glory of Judea to a

disinterested and divine love of God and all mankind.

In general terms, however, we speak of conversion from Judaism to

Christianity in reference to all, who have been born and brought up Jews,

and from conviction profess their belief in Jesus Christ, without

discriminating among different persons, in regard to their subjective

state. If we should undertake to give the philosophy of this conversion, we

should probably suppose our subject to represent subjectively what we

consider to be objective Judaism, whose logical basis is a denial of the

Christ foretold in the Old Testament, and personally made known in the new,

as Jesus of Nazareth. We should correctly describe this conversion as a

surrender of the mind and will to the authority of Jesus Christ; and should

correctly say that no person was thoroughly converted into a Christian, who

merely approved of such doctrines, and practiced such precepts of Jesus

Christ as he might choose, or select, by his own personal judgment and

will; but, who did not submit his mind to all the truth which Christ has

taught, on the motive of his divine infallibility, and his will to all he

has commanded, on the motive of his divine authority.

It is plain that Stephen must have acknowledged St. Peter as the accredited

representative of Jesus Christ, through whom he received the doctrine he

was to believe, and the precepts he was to obey, as a Christian. The New

Testament was yet unwritten, and the divine word could only be learned from

the lips or the apostles. Stephen could not, therefore, submit his mind and

will to Jesus Christ, except by submitting to their authority. Now, if this

authority has really been transmitted to the successors of St. Peter, and

to their colleagues in the episcopate, it is plain that it is by submission

to this authority that we are to submit the mind and will to Jesus Christ,

who has delegated it to them. "He that heareth you heareth me;" "As my

Father hath sent me, even so send I you," Therefore, when a person who has

not hitherto formally and explicitly recognized and submitted to this

authority, makes his submission to it, we call it a conversion, because it

betokens a real interior change of the intellect and will; accompanied by

an exterior change of ecclesiastical relations, if he has belonged to any

other visible communion before, or, if not, by the assumption of these

relations for the first time. This is without respect to his former

subjective state of interior relation to Christ and the church. If he had a

divine faith before, conversion does not include the passage from a state

of unbelief to faith. If this faith was previously vivified by charity, it

does not include the passage from a state of sin to the state or grace.

{109}

If, on the contrary, he was before an infidel, or a wilful heretic, and

destitute of charity, conversion includes both these transitions. We do not

limit the application of the word conversion to a mere interior and

exterior submission to the authority of the church. We employ it also to

designate conversion from sin, and continually preach to Catholics who are

living in sin the necessity of being converted to a holy life. We apply the

term also to a change from a tepid condition of the spiritual life to a

habit of more fervent piety. It is used as a general term to denote any

marked religious change for the better, and its specific meaning must be

determined by the connection in which it is employed. Its indiscriminate

use in denoting the act of transition from a Protestant communion to the

Catholic church does not necessarily imply that no discrimination can be

made among those who make this transition. Nor does it follow that all the

language of the writer whom Dr. Bacon criticizes, can be fully verified in

regard to all Catholic converts. Numbers of them have had from childhood a

firm faith in the principal Christian mysteries, and an habitual

determination of the will, at least for many years, to the love of God. In

such instances, what is technically called "conversion," is like what we

have supposed the conversion of Stephen to have been, the evolution of the

principle of faith and obedience into a more perfect and complete

actuation. Stephen had _fides formata_ before he was baptized, and so

have converts of the kind we are describing, _fides formata_, that is

faith which worketh by love, before their external union to the body of the

Catholic church is consummated.

The change which takes place in a convert of this kind, is not a transfer

of mental allegiance from the word of God to the arbitrary, irresponsible

dictation of a hierarchy. It is simply an increased intelligence of the

actual contents of the word of God, and of the nature of the medium through

which the knowledge of that word is transmitted. The object of faith, upon

which the intellectual act of believing terminates, is the revealed truth

considered as revealed, or as credible on the veracity of God. The medium

or instrument is the testimony by which we are authentically informed of

the fact of revelation and of its contents. In the case supposed, the

person has received from the testimony of the Church, which reaches him

through the Christian tradition, the knowledge of the principal facts and

mysteries revealed by Jesus Christ. Having, therefore, a reasonable motive

for believing, and the aid of divine grace, he was able, when he attained

the use of reason, to elicit explicit acts of faith in the Trinity, the

Incarnation, and other doctrines sufficiently proposed to him, to exercise

continually the habit of faith, and to persevere in the same without any

lapse. In this explicit faith, or faith in actual exercise, was contained

an implicit faith in all that God has revealed, but which was not known to

the subject in an explicit manner. When he examined into that testimony

through which the doctrine of Christ had been proposed to him, he found

that his undoubting belief in that testimony contained all implicit

recognition of the infallibility of the witness, and that he must either

draw the logical conclusion, or renounce the premises. He also found that

the article of the creed, "I believe in the Holy Catholic Church," as

revealed in the Scripture, and explained by the living, concrete sense of

the primitive Christians, contains in itself the idea of infallibility.

Convinced, therefore, that the Catholic Church, together with her testimony

and instruction respecting the person of the incarnate God and Saviour,

testifies and teaches her own infallibility as a witness, teacher, and

judge of controversies, and that this doctrine is contained in the word of

God, he perceives that he must believe on the veracity of God all that the

church proposes to him as contained in the material object of faith, the

_objectum materiale quod_ of theologians.

{110}

When he is further convinced that the bishop who occupies the See of Peter,

together with his colleagues, constitutes the _ecclesia docens_, the

teaching church, and that the infallible church has, therefore, proclaimed

her doctrine in the decrees of the Council of Trent; of course, nothing

remains for him to do but to seek admission into the fold of the Catholic

Church. This act has not, however, changed the essence of his faith. The

_objectum materiale quod_ of faith need not include explicitly the

infallibility of the church, since all theologians maintain that the

knowledge of God, the Trinity, and the Incarnation, is all that is

necessary _ex necessitate medii_, or by an absolute necessity, to

saving faith; and many maintain that it is the knowledge of God as the

supernatural rewarder which is alone to be placed in this category. Nor is

the infallibility of the church included in the _objectum materiale

quo_ of faith, that is in the objective motive or determining cause of

belief, which is the veracity of God. Billuart and De Lugo may be consulted

on this point by any who wish to ascertain the germane sense of Catholic

theology. Archbishop Manning, in a letter to Dr. Pusey, on the Workings of

the Holy Spirit in the Church of England, has brought out this doctrine

with appropriate proofs and citations in a very lucid and admirable manner.

The letter can be found in the Catholic World for June, 1865. The same had

been previously done by Father Walworth, in a sermon entitled Good

Samaritans, published in the Volume of Paulist Sermons for 1864.

The church is the medium through which the object of faith is

intellectually beheld, and the only medium. It is, therefore, impossible

for her to substitute any other material object of faith in lieu of the

true object, and equally impossible that the material object of faith

should be seen at all through any other medium. Whoever, therefore,

believes what the church proposes to his belief, necessarily believes in

the true object of faith, and whoever believes in the true object of faith

necessarily believes in it through the proposition of the church.

The first conclusion we draw from this postulate is, that the notion of

Catholics being subject to an arbitrary authority of the hierarchy or the

pope to impose whatever articles or belief they may choose, is a pure

misapprehension. The church is a witness to the doctrines and facts once

for all revealed at her original foundation. These doctrines and facts are

on record, The testimony of the church in regard to them has been publicly

given, and she cannot retract her testimony without manifestly falsifying

her claim to be an infallible witness. As a judge of controversies, she can

only judge of controversies relating to these very facts and doctrines.

These judgments, once given, are irrevocable. They have been already

pronounced respecting all the great facts and doctrines of Christianity,

and are on record. One who submits to these judgments knows to what he is

submitting. The synopsis of all Catholic doctrine is given to him in the

decrees of the Council of Trent. Since that Council there has been but one

definition of faith made, and that was the definition of a doctrine already

universally believed before it was defined. The notion that a Catholic is

subject to capricious, arbitrary, and unlimited decrees binding his faith

is altogether chimerical. There is no room for further definitions except

in regard to certain theological questions relating to doctrines already

defined, and the practice of the church has proved how slow she is to limit

the liberty of opinion in the schools by a final decision of questions of

this kind. The argument from the tyrannical nature of church authority is

therefore a mere begging of the question in dispute between Catholics and

Protestants. If the church, as Catholics define the church, be not

infallible, her judicial decisions of doctrine are tyrannical. If she is

infallible, they are not, and do not enslave either faith or reason.

{111}

It is no tyranny over faith, to make known with unerring certainty what God

has revealed, or what is a deduction from that which he has revealed. It is

no tyranny over reason to furnish it with certain universal principles and

indisputable data, from which to make its deductions. The only real

question, therefore, respects the infallibility of the church. So far as

the great mysteries of faith which are believed by orthodox Protestants are

concerned, they must admit that the Catholic Church holds and teaches them;

is compelled by her own formal principle to hold them, because she has long

ago put on record her testimony respecting them; and can never change her

doctrine on any of these vital points.

Our second conclusion is, that the notion of Catholic doctrine which

conceives of it as requiring one to believe that there is no true faith or

holiness outside of the visible communion of the See of Peter, is equally

erroneous. All that Archbishop Manning has said of the workings of the Holy

Spirit in the Church of England is equally applicable to the Congregational

Church of Connecticut. We have no just reason for regarding the original

colonists as formal heretics or schismatics, and even less reason for

including the subsequent generations in that category. All who have lived

and died in that faith which worketh by charity we acknowledge as the

children of God and our brethren in Jesus Christ. Those now living who have

this _fides formata_, are spiritually united to the Holy Catholic

Church, the communion of saints. Consequently, if any of these shall

hereafter enter the visible body of the church, not only will they not be

required to deny the validity of their baptismal covenant with God, and to

abjure their former spiritual life, but they will find in the tribunal of

penance that both will be recognized.

We repeat, therefore, once more, that the proper basis on which we may

confer together concerning the faith, is to be found in those doctrines in

which we agree, and not in those in which we differ. We may not make a

positive judgment in regard to the interior and subjective relation of

individuals toward God or the true Church of God. We leave that to him who

is the only judge of hearts and consciences. We are sure of this, however,

that we are bound to cultivate the spirit of Christian charity toward those

who profess allegiances to our common Lord, to the utmost possible extent.

This charity forbids us to make an arrogant and harsh judgment that they

are, _en masse_ and by the simple fact of their outward profession,

aliens from the household of faith, or that any particular individual is

so, unless he makes it plainly manifest in his conduct. We are agreed on

both sides that we are responsible to God for our belief; and bound, as

teachers and theologians, to study conscientiously the truths of the divine

revelation. We have also a common interest in endeavoring to come to an

agreement, so far as this is necessary in order to establish unity of faith

and of ecclesiastical fellowship. Let us suppose for a moment that Dr.

Bacon represents the Congregational clergy of Connecticut, and that we have

the honor to represent the Catholic clergy. We shall agree that it is our

common interest to defend the authenticity and inspiration of all those

books of the Holy Scripture which we revere in common as canonical, and the

historic truth of the Mosaic and Evangelical records, against infidel

rationalism. Also, to solve the difficulties raised by modern science in

relation to the harmony between rational and revealed truth. Also, to

preserve the faith of the people in the Trinity, the Incarnation, and other

doctrines which we hold in common, and which are strongly attacked by many

popular preachers and writers in New-England. Also, to counteract the

tendency to indifferentism and apathy in regard to religion which is so

common.

{112}

Also, to take all possible means to bring the mass of the people under the

influence of the spiritual and moral truths of the Gospel. Also, to protect

the Christian ordinance of marriage from being to a great extent subverted

by the practice of divorce. Also, to suppress intemperance, licentiousness,

and immoralities destructive of the well-being of society. Also, to protect

the religious liberties and rights of all religious societies, and the

property, which is devoted to religious, charitable, and scientific

purposes. Also, to do all in our power to blend the various elements of the

population into one homogeneous body, and to educate them in an enlightened

and devoted attachment to the political principles of the founders of the

state.

We will not go any further with our enumeration, for fear of assuming too

much in respect to the sentiments of our respected friend, Dr. Bacon. We

speak for our individual self alone, in saying that we cannot but deplore

the obstacle which is put in the way of carrying out into practical results

our common desire for the spiritual, moral, and social well-being of the

people of our native and ancestral State, by the schism which exists among

those who profess in common so large a portion of the Christian faith. The

spectacle presented by a divided Christianity is to us extremely painful.

We think it ought to be, also, to a member of the church founded by the

Puritans. The forefathers of New-England undoubtedly intended to plant the

pure church and faith of Christ. They made the greatest sacrifices and the

most heroic exertions in order to do it. They expected their church to

flourish, to remain, and to include in its fold all their posterity. They

took somewhat stringent measures to secure the success of their plan, and

notwithstanding our difference of judgment from them as to the justice or

wisdom of their policy, we must allow that they were conscientious. Things

have turned out, however, quite otherwise than they sanguinely expected.

Not to speak of the more extreme change which has taken place at the

headquarters of Puritanism, Connecticut is divided up among

Congregationalists, Episcopalians, Methodists, and Baptists, to say nothing

of the small sects which exist there. Rival colleges and seminaries have

been established, and even rival schools of theology among the

Congregationalists dispute over their respective interpretations of the

ancient standards of doctrine. Dr. Bacon and his friends have had no little

to suffer during their public career as ministers and professors of

theology, from the imputation of heterodoxy, and they know well how

frequently and how deeply religious differences have interfered with the

peace of families, the union of friends, and the success of religions

efforts. The Catholic Church we say nothing about, for this has been almost

exclusively the church of a late immigration of poor people, who have

sought an asylum from English tyranny among the descendants of those who

long ago fled from that same tyranny, and so nobly broke its yoke from

their necks.

However tolerable and unavoidable such a state of things may appear to

some, we cannot but think that the foresight of it would have made the

stern old Puritans of the ancient times groan in spirit. We confess that we

sympathize with them, and that it occasions mournful thoughts to look on

the failure of such a high-souled undertaking as theirs. We sympathize with

their strong affirmation of strict dogmatic and ecclesiastical principles,

and with the same affirmation as made by those who have adhered to the

doctrine handed down from them. We cannot help looking on division

respecting that which pertains to the true, orthodox faith, and the

essential terms of Christian communion, as a great evil. The complaint made

by the late eminent president of Brown University, Dr. Wayland, of the

extensive and growing scepticism of educated men, and the general decay of

practical faith, must be well known to the educated religious public of New

England.

{113}

It is our opinion, that the separation and disagreement among the professed

teachers of Christianity is one great cause of this, and that it breaks the

moral force of the evidence of Christianity in the minds of a large portion

of the most intelligent class, and in the popular mind also. It

disintegrates and neutralizes that power which a united body would have,

and which would give it an irresistible moral force against infidelity,

irreligion, and public immorality. We cannot help longing for the time,

when all those who are now disunited shall be brought together in one fold,

professing one faith, exhibiting the divine truth of the religion of Jesus

Christ by their charity and peace, training up their children from infancy

in the practice of religion, worshipping at the same altar, participating

in life and at the hour of death in the same holy rites, and fully

realizing what a Christian people ought to be.

The Puritan fathers of New-England had a foreshadowing of this state of

things, a foreshadowing, as we hope, of a reality to come. In our opinion,

"they builded better than they knew." We believe they were led here by the

providence of God, and guided by a higher power than their own. So far as

their work was merely human and defective, it was temporary and must pass

away. So far as it was divine, it was lasting and must stand forever. They

have founded noble institutions of learning and general education. They

have transmitted a Christian tradition, which has entered into the very

roots and fibres of intellectual and social life so strongly as to be

ineradicable. However the plant may languish, the root is still vital. Even

those who have wandered far beyond the region of Unitarianism into

speculations so vague and misty that they are almost atheistic, show in

their language, habits of thought, and entire mental structure, that they

have come from a Christian stock. The question of questions is always, what

is the religion of Jesus Christ and the meaning of his life and death upon

the earth? We hope, therefore, that the work commenced by these sternly

earnest men may be completed. In our view of the matter, it was necessary

for divine Providence to interfere, after a long lapse of time, to carry

out its own far-seeing purposes, into which this first and human plan was

to be made to blend and lose itself. The first refugees from the spiritual

tyranny of the British crown sought only an asylum for themselves and their

progeny, where they might realize their own peculiar ideal of a Christian

state and church, in a condition of colonial dependence on the mother

country. As in the political order, the results of the colonization of

America have taken an unforeseen form and magnitude, so in the spiritual.

Roger Williams led out a new band of _Puritanissimi_ from among the

Puritans, which made one division among them. The Church of England

stretched her roots also over to the virgin soil of New-England, and her

vigorous offshoot, Methodism, followed. Rationalism, too, has run its

course, as we all know, from the starting point of Channing, to the most

advanced position of Emerson. Finally, another race, distinct from the

English race by a difference of origin running back to the deluge, whose

origin as a people dates from the period of the grandfather of Moses, and

as a Christian people from the period of the Fathers of the Church, has

transplanted that form of Christianity which it has kept unaltered for

fourteen centuries, to the same soil, where it grows and flourishes "like a

green bay-tree." It is our opinion, that the Providence of God will bring

something out of this far grander and more perfect than the ideal church of

our ancestors. We think that the blending of races will produce a more

perfect type of manhood and a stronger people. We think, also, that the

religion of this people will contain all the positive qualities of the

different elements that will combine to form it.

{114}

Catholic dogma and discipline, which contains in itself all that is

positive in every form of religion, will assimilate whatever is good in all

it finds around it, integrating the noble fragments which have been rent

from the great edifice of Christianity into a perfect unity with

architectonic skill. The collision, intershock, abrasion, and melting

together of these various intellectual and spiritual forces will result in

the harmonizing of all into a unity in which the opposite tendencies

counterbalance each other. Depth and simplicity of interior life with a

rich and varied ritualism, moral strictness and self-abnegation with a

noble magnificence, taste and sobriety with fervor of devotion, unwavering

orthodoxy with a genuine rationalism, stability of forms with a genial

variety, hierarchical order with a manly liberty of personal action, form

the grand features of the type of Christianity destined to be realized in

the future. This is merely _our_ opinion, and we do not expect that it

will be generally received by those who will read these words at the

present time. We are confident, however, that their truth and force will be

recognized hereafter, long after we are numbered with the dead. We have no

expectation that the schism among those who profess the Christian name will

be healed in a summary manner, or as the simple result of discussion and

conference. It must be the work of the Creative Spirit, and cannot be

accomplished without an extraordinary communication of grace. It requires

time, also, and a gradual process. We have no intention of making an

arrogant claim of immediate submission to the authority of the Catholic

Church upon those who are not reasonably and calmly convinced of its

legitimate foundation. We are simply desirous of making a beginning in the

explanation of our own belief, in order to promote a better mutual

understanding of the question at issue between us. We ask simply, what we

are willing to concede to fair and honorable opponents, a hearing and a

candid consideration. The only weight we profess to give to the conversions

out of which this discussion has arisen is a moral weight entitling the

reasons and causes which have produced them to a serious examination. Dr.

Bacon has placed in the opposite scale the notorious fact of the great

losses the Catholic Church has sustained by the defection of her own

members. We beg leave to suggest, however, that there is no parity between

the two facts he endeavors to balance against each other. Those who lapse

into infidelity have first extinguished their conscience. They are not

seeking to draw near to God and to serve Jesus Christ, but to escape from

the dominion of both. Those who have become Protestants have not been

instructed and pious Catholics who were seeking for more light and grace,

but the offspring of parents through whose negligence or misfortune they

had been left to grow up without instruction or practical religion. On the

contrary, a large number of intelligent, well-instructed Protestants, some

of whom were clergymen of the highest standing, like Dr. Newman, Dr.

Manning, and Dr. Ives, have been led by the very effort they have made to

come up to the highest standard of faith and piety presented by their

church, after long and careful deliberation, to the threshold of the

Catholic Church, and have crossed that threshold. Dr. Bacon denies that

this fact has any particular moment for those who are not in the _viâ

mediâ_ of the Anglican Church, but are standing on what he deems the

surer foundation of the Reformed religion as established by Luther and

Calvin. Let his exception have its full value. Nevertheless, the same thing

has occurred on a lesser scale in the Lutheran and other churches of

Switzerland and Germany. Haller, Schlegel, Hurter, and Phillips are names

probably not unknown to the learned Protestants of our country.

{115}

In our own country, among the German Reformed Presbyterians, Dr. Nevin and

others have advanced to a position whose logical direction is straight into

the Catholic Church. The efforts of the illustrious Leibnitz in a former

century, and of Guizot at the present moment, to span the chasm between

Protestant orthodoxy and Catholicism are well known. The beginning of a

reactionary movement of the orthodox Protestants toward Rome is indicated

in the most terse and decisive manner by the great historian Leo, whose

authority is indisputable. Leo is the friend of Hengatenberg the

illustrious vindicator of the Bible against neology; a professor in the

Protestant University of Halle; and the author of a Text Book of Universal

History, which is both a scientific masterpiece and also one of the most

splendid arguments for divine revelation and the truth of Christianity

which this century has produced. These are his words taken from the work

just mentioned:

"We shall be obliged to seek for the authorization of Protestantism and

its mission in something widely different from church development, and

forced to concede that Protestantism in the main forms only an

exceptional case in the shape of a place of shelter from ecclesiastical

difficulties, and that the Roman Church, when once released from the

duties of her mission in other quarters, will also turn her attention,

not to the abolition of papal authority, but to its more distinct

definition, and secure it from arbitrary acts of administration, such,

for example, as occur in the statement of the Thomist theses regarding

the connection between indulgences and the doctrines of the church, and

in one of the decrees against the Jansenists, and then will the

possibility of the Protestant world returning to the church be realized."

[Footnote 30]

[Footnote 30: Univ. Geschichte, vol. iii., p.181.]

We have nothing to say on the particular point the learned historian raises

about doctrinal decisions of the Holy See, but have quoted his words just

as they stand in order to show the similarity of his position to that of

Dr. Pusey, and to prove that thoughtful minds in Germany as well as in

England are beginning to desire a reconciliation of the separate communions

with the great body of Christendom. The Catholic tendency is, therefore,

not one which has sprung solely out of the hierarchical and sacramental

doctrines preserved by a kind of semi-Catholic tradition in the high church

school of the Anglicans. It has a deeper seat and a wider extension. It is

not possible to nullify its importance by qualifying converts to the

Catholic Church as men who have made an "abnegation of reason, of the

faculty which discerns right and wrong, and even of choice and personal

responsibility to God," stifled their faculties of thinking for themselves

and of discerning between truth and falsehood. This theory will not hold

water, as the judgment of the English press on the controversy between Mr.

Kingsley and Dr. Newman amply proves. The prejudice against Catholics is

wearing away. Many, even devout Protestants, have no longer any objection

to join in the prayers or listen to the sermons or read the books of

Catholic priests. Catholics and Protestants are becoming connected by ties

of blood or marriage, they mingle in the social circle, and they have

fought side by side on the bloody battle-field. The impressions made on the

imagination of childhood must necessarily be effaced by contact with the

reality. The Catholic religion will become known for what it is, and its

advocates will receive the respectful hearing to which they are entitled.

We have all along intimated that it is not so much the mere exterior

argument for the authority of the church, as the dogmatic theology and the

interior spiritual doctrine preserved and transmitted by her authoritative

teaching, to which we desire to see the attention of our evangelical

brethren directed. The soul of the church is the noblest of its parts, and

the vivifying principle of the body. The really cardinal question at issue

concerns the method by which the individual soul is united with this soul

of the church, nourished and perfected in divine knowledge and love. In

this is included the nature of that manifestation of itself which the soul

of the church makes in its visible body.

{116}

We have no time to go into this subject at present. Courtesy to both the

writers whose articles we are reviewing requires, however, that we should

notice some of the topics over which their polemical weapons have clashed

so vigorously.

The writer of the article in this magazine denies that Protestants hold the

doctrine of the visibility of the church, while the writer in the "New

Englander" indignantly affirms that they do hold it. Both are in the right,

because each has an entirely different idea of the visible church from the

other. The Catholic idea will be found very ably exhibited in an essay on

the Two Sides of Catholicism, translated from the German, and published in

some of the earliest numbers of this magazine. Want of time and the

necessity of keeping our article within proper limits oblige us to leave

the matter without further remark, simply observing that no Catholic

theologian would ever think of denying that orthodox Protestants hold to a

visible, universal church, in the sense explained by Dr. Bacon.

In regard to justification, the first writer asserts that, according to the

Protestant doctrine, every man who believes he is saved by Christ is by

that sole belief united to the invisible church, which his opponent also

vehemently denies. It is the original, genuine Lutheran doctrine, _Sola

fides formaliter justificat_, Faith alone formally justifies, which is

in question. We do not think Dr. Bacon either understands or believes this

doctrine. The New England theology has from the beginning had a character

of its own, in which the subjective change called regeneration, a change of

heart, or conversion, consisting in an inward, supernatural transformation

of the soul through the grace of the Holy Spirit, has been made very

prominent. The Catholic formula, _Fides, una cum aliis requisitis,

dispositive justificat_, Faith, together with other requisites,

dispositively justifies, expresses better the spirit of this theology than

the Lutheran formula. That the merits of Christ are the meritorious cause

of justification is agreed upon by all parties. The exact sense of the

Lutheran formula is difficult of apprehension and of expression in clear

terms. As we understand it, it imports that the justification of the

sinner, which is, in this system, a mere forensic justification, and is

from eternity objectively perfect, is subjectively applied by an act of the

mind firmly believing on Christ as the substitute and ransom of the

particular subject making this act. In the strict Calvinistic system, the

doctrine that Christ redeemed only the elect is distinctly made the basis

of the doctrine of justification by faith alone. Saving faith, therefore,

implies that the subject believes that Christ died for him in particular,

and that consequently he is entitled to the favor of God and eternal life,

irrespective of his personal acts, although he cannot receive this favor or

be prepared for the happiness of heaven without the gift of a grace which

gradually sanctifies him. Fletcher of Madely, the great theologian of the

Methodists, wrote most ably against this Solifidian system. It has also

been strongly combated within the past few months by Dr. Young, of

Edinburgh. It is our opinion that this doctrine tends to reduce religion to

pure individualism, and thus to obliterate both dogma and church. It

concentrates the method of salvation into a mental or spiritual act by

which Christ is apprehended in the relation of Saviour. This act is

supposed to be excited by a supernatural inspiration of the Holy Spirit;

but, as there is no test by which the reality of the inspiration can be

certainly verified, it reduces personal religion to a subjective sentiment.

A subjective personal trust in and affection to Jesus Christ becomes,

therefore, the principal mark of a Christian and of a member of the true

church. All who have this ought, therefore, to fraternize and commune

together. The principle of private judgment on matters of doctrine is

closely connected with this principle of individualism in the relation of

the soul to Christ.

{117}

Intellectual and spiritual individualism is the metaphysical note of

Protestantism. Spiritual illumination not being anything which can be

verified, except by miracles, the principle of individualism has a tendency

to eliminate it, and to substitute pure rationalism. Hence, the great

Protestant writer Leo says, in the immediate context of the passage above

cited from his history, that "entire Protestantism has continually

complained of its inability ever to arrive at any union as regards the

question whether the Scripture is to be interpreted by reason alone or

through interior illumination." When we talk about Protestantism, we

include the whole nominal Protestant world, and do not restrict our remarks

to the comparatively small number of faithful adherents to the old orthodox

confessions. We speak of the logical principles which distinguish

Protestantism from Catholicity, as they are in their abstract essence, and

as they work out their effects of negation and individualization. As to the

actual, concrete condition of Protestant bodies, it is very easy to use

loose expressions, and to make hasty generalizations, which can easily be

criticised. The writer attacked by Dr. Bacon may have fallen into some

inaccuracies of this kind. They afford no ground, however, for the charge

of either ignorance or wilful misrepresentation. We do not care to analyze

either his statements or the counter statements of his opponent. The

manifest fact that a considerable body of Protestants do hold to the

dogmatic formularies of their churches, and to strict practical rules of

moral and religious duty, is one which we not only acknowledge, but take a

great pleasure in knowing to exist. We are glad to estimate the Christian

faith and piety which exist among them at its highest probable maximum.

Another point to be noticed is the estimation in which the Holy Scriptures

are held among Catholics. This is a point of great importance in our

estimation, and one in which it gives us great pain that the true Catholic

sentiment should be misunderstood. Controversialists may sometimes

exaggerate the difficulty of understanding the meaning of the Scriptures,

when they are intent on proving the necessity of Catholic tradition and a

teaching authority, or use expressions which would at first view appear to

a devout Protestant like Richard Baxter or Dr. Bacon, lacking in due

reverence for the written word of God. It is only, however, a want of

acquaintance with the real doctrine and spirit of the Catholic Church which

causes a person to be scandalized by such things. It is in the works of the

fathers, of the doctors, of the great theologians, of the saints, that we

find the just and adequate expression of the mind of the church. It is

impossible to exaggerate the sentiment of reverence for the Holy Scriptures

with which these great writers are filled. It is the perennial source, pure

and undefiled, from which their inspiration is drawn. The Bible is the work

of God, as the firmament of heaven is his work. It has the precedence of

dignity over tradition, decrees of councils, theology, science, literature,

every other work in which man concurs with the spirit of God; because in

the production of the Bible the Spirit of God has concurred with the spirit

of man in a higher and more immediate manner. There is but one question to

be asked: How shall we ascertain the true sense of the Scripture? For, as

soon as it is ascertained, it demands the homage of the mind _per se_

as the revelation of infinite truth.

We concur in what Dr. Bacon has written on this point, so far as its

general scope is concerned. He establishes all we desire to maintain,

namely, that the truths of revelation are not given in the form of

systematized dogmatic teachings in the Scripture. Therefore it is that we

need to be imbued with the sense of the Scripture by traditional teaching,

and to be furnished with a dogmatic formula in which its doctrines are

clearly defined, in order to be able easily and certainly to perceive in

their sublimity and completeness the divine truths contained in it.

{118}

Hence, the Jews, for want of this, cannot see Christ in the Old Testament.

Unitarians cannot see the Trinity or Incarnation in the New Testament.

Catholics, Anglicans, Congregationalists, Calvinists, Armenians,

Rationalists, Friends, Campbellites, and many others, cannot agree as to

the combination principle which will unlock the whole meaning of the

Scripture. We do not attribute this to the Scriptures themselves, but to

the incapability of the individual mind or spirit to take the place of the

divinely appointed, infallible witness, teacher, and judge of

controversies, to whose keeping the sacred Scriptures have been committed.

When faith is fixed as regards the great universal dogmas, and the canon

authoritatively settled, a perfect universe is opened to the student of the

Holy Scriptures, where he may prosecute his studies uncontrolled by

anything except reason, conscience, and a just humility. We have no

question whatever that all the articles of the Catholic Faith can be

conclusively proved by Scripture. None whatever that the principles on

which sound criticism and exegesis are conducted are truly scientific. We

believe that the books of Scripture are intelligible, and a perfect mine of

intellectual, spiritual, and moral treasure. This is true, eminently, of

the sacred books as they are studied in their original languages. It is no

less true, however, that its most important treasures of knowledge are

equally open to those who can read the best versions. No book has ever been

so many times well translated as the Bible. Let a version be warranted by a

competent authority, and one may expatiate in it with as much freedom and

confidence that his mind is really borne up on the ocean of divine truth,

as if he could read the Hebrew and Greek with the readiness of a Mai or a

Hengstenberg. It is, therefore, without doubt, a most excellent and

profitable exercise for good, plain people, able to read and understand the

English Bible, to read it continually and attentively. In proportion as one

become capable of understanding the Holy Scriptures, and has the means of

prosecuting his studies, in the same proportion will the advantage to be

gained increase. We have no fear of any intelligent, instructed Catholic

being injured by reading the Bible. Nor do we consider the very general and

high esteem of King James's version among English-speaking Protestants, and

their general familiarity with it, as an evil, or as an obstacle to the

spread of Catholic doctrines. We regard that version as among the best in

literary excellence, and as substantially accurate. We would as soon argue

from it with a Protestant as from the original texts. Indeed, we think it a

special blessing of God that one version, and that one so generally

faithful to the true sense of the Scripture, should be almost universally

diffused through the English-speaking world. Would that all who have

inherited the Christian name were firmly persuaded of the divine

inspiration of the Scriptures and sincerely desirous to learn their true

meaning! With all those who acknowledge Jesus Christ to be an infallible

Teacher sent from God, we feel that we have one firm spot to stand upon.

Where not only this truth is held, but, also, that he is the true and

eternal Son of God, and that the New Testament of our Lord and Saviour

Jesus Christ is so inspired by his Spirit that every statement it contains

respecting doctrine, morals, and the facts connected with them is

infallibly true, we have another firm spot broader than the first. As for

those who have altogether lost their footing upon even the first of these

solid Christian principles, we may well shudder at the magnitude and

difficulty of the work of their re-conversion to Christianity. Yet, this is

the great work really impending, unless we would see a large portion of

Christendom swept away into infidelity, and involved in all its appalling

consequences.

{119}

For this reason we desire with all our heart that the differences among

those who believe that all the hopes of the human race are contained in the

Christian revelation should be finally settled, and that all should agree

as to what that Christianity is, which shall be proposed to the acceptance

of all mankind. This desire has been our motive for endeavoring to pierce

through the special and personal issues of the controversy before us, and

to bring it upon broader and more open ground. We have endeavored to get

the question out of a region where we conceive that misunderstanding and

useless contention will be interminable. There is an antecedent difficulty

in the way which we know very well, and did know before we were so

distinctly reminded of it by our learned friends of New-Haven. It is the

preconceived opinion they hold respecting the end and object which the

advocates of the Catholic religion have in view, and the policy according

to which they act. We have not been sanguine enough to suppose that

anything we can say will remove this difficulty. Until our respected

friends become familiar with the works of our great theologians and

spiritual writers, and come into closer intellectual contact with the

general Catholic mind and heart, there must be a non-conducting medium

between us, which will obstruct the communication of thought and sentiment.

We aim only to recommend this study, on grounds of reason, policy, and

Christian charity. We have already seen its effects in many instances in

bringing nearer together those who are widely sundered, and therefore we

will cherish the hope that its ultimate result may be a complete and

universal reconciliation.

-----

Abridged from the Dublin University Magazine.

Athlone And Aughrim.

Preparations for the Struggle.

During the winter and spring of 1691, General Ginckel had the comfort or

seeing the forces under his command tolerably well clothed and fed, and

housed in different cities and towns, while their antagonists in Connaught

enjoyed these advantages but sparingly. Tyrconnell returned from France in

January, leaving 10,000 louis d'or at Brest to purchase provisions, etc.,

and bringing to Limerick about 18,000. He established public confidence to

some extent by reducing copper crowns and half-crowns to their just value.

He gratified the Irish party by producing a royal patent, creating

Sarsfield Earl of Lucan, Viscount of Tully, and Baron of Rosberry.

In May of the same year arrived in the Shannon the French fleet, laden with

provisions, arms, ammunition, and clothing, but neither men nor money.

However, what they did bring must have been a great boon to the poor

soldiers, whose pay, when money was available, had hitherto not exceeded a

penny a day. With these supplies came General St. Ruth to assume the

command of James's forces in Ireland, which at and from that time included

no French soldiers. The main strength of William's, armies was concentrated

about Mulingar, and the Dutch commander was ably seconded by his officers--

Talmash, Mackay, and De Ruvigny, names familiar to the readers of Richard

Ashton's play of the "Battle of Aughrim." St. Ruth had for assistants

Majors-General d'Usson and De Tesse, and Lieutenant-General Patrick

Sarsfield, but unhappily for the cause he came to maintain he assumed airs

of reserve and superiority with the Irish nobleman, which the latter could

ill brook.

{120}

On June the 6th of that eventful year the campaign may be said to have

begun with the march from Mullingar. We learn from "Tristram Shandy" that

the army in Flanders swore frightfully, and indeed it was not much better

in Westmeath. We find Baron de Ginckel giving strict orders, while the army

was proceeding westward, that the chaplain should read prayers at the head

of each regiment at ten in the morning, and again at seven in the evening,

and exhort their flocks to desist from swearing, "a vice (as Rev. Mr. Story

complains) too common among us." "Stealing" seems to have been another

prevalent weakness; the chaplain relates how "a fellow stole a horse and

was hanged for it, which wrought some reformation for a time." The

following order implies considerable demoralization among the varied

populace in arms ruled by the able Dutch general: "No sutler or other

person whatever should buy any ammunition, arms, or accoutrements, or any

thing that belonged to the soldiers on pain of death; because the soldiers

for a little money would be apt to sell their cloaths or shoes; and if as

great care were not taken of most of them as of children, they would soon

be in a very indifferent condition."

The only incident that varied their march to Athlone was the taking of the

strong fort of Ballymore. Mr. Story censures the commander, Myles Burke,

for "not listening to the general's mild proposals." After vigorous

salutations of powder and shot on both sides, Ginckel sent a verbal demand

to surrender within two hours or else--! Governor Burke requested the

message to be conveyed to him in writing, but gained nothing by the motion.

The following missive was immediately sent in writing:

"Since the governour desires to see in writing the message which I just

now sent him by word of mouth, he may know that if he surrenders the fort

of Ballymore to me within two hours, I will give him and his garrison

their lives and make them prisoners of war. If not, neither he nor they

shall have any quarter, nor another opportunity of saving themselves.

However, if in that time their women and children will go out they have

my leave.

"Given in the camp, this

8th day of June, 1691,

at eight a clock in the

morning.

Bar. De Ginckell."

The general was not so severe in deed as in word, for though resistance

continued to be made with two Turkish cannon mounted on cart-wheels, much

beyond the stipulated two hours, he still treated the defenders as

prisoners of war.

The Siege of Athlone.

On the 19th of June the English cannon began to thunder on the devoted

outworks of the English town of Athlone, to wit, that portion of it which

stands on the eastern side of the Shannon. Story gives the number of the

English army at this time as eighteen thousand, well provided with all

warlike appurtenances. A breach was made in the indifferent defence, and

next day the assault was made by four thousand men. The defenders after

losing two hundred men made their way into the Irish town on the western

bank, taking care to leave behind them toward their own side two wide

chasms, below which flowed the Shannon deep and rapid. This was the amount

of the destructive work done on the second day. St. Ruth, hearing of the

taking of the English town that evening, advanced within three miles of the

still untaken portion, having about fifteen thousand men, horse and foot,

under his command.

{121}

The next things done were the erection of batteries on the eastern side of

the river, and the subsequent demolition of the eastern wall of the castle,

and other fortifications on the Irish side, by the incessant storm of

cannon-balls from the strong defence on the eastern bank. A horrible

incident of this siege was connected with a mill resting on the bridge,

which, being fired by the English grenades, its sixty-four defenders were

burnt alive. Two only escaped by springing into the river.

As fast as castle walls and other fortifications were demolished, new posts

of defence and annoyance were set up on the Irish side, and the breaches in

the bridge could not be floored over, owing to the unwelcome neighborhood

of the Irish guns. The English general, weighing the difficulty of an

effectual transit, bethought of sending a lieutenant with an exploring

party to examine a reported ford toward Lanesborough:

"Where there might be an easy and undiscovered passage for most of our

army, while our cannon amused the enemy at the town. This party went and

found the pass according to information, but tho' he (the lieutenant) was

positively ordered to return as soon as he had passed the river, yet such

are the powerful charms of black cattle to some sorts of people, that the

lieutenant, espying a prey some distance from him on the other side, must

needs be scampering after them, by which means our design was discovered,

and the enemy immediately provided against it by throwing up strong works

on the other side. The lieutenant, I heard, was afterward try'd, and

suffer'd for it."

Good-hearted as we imagine our chaplain to have been, he could never bring

himself up to the point of impartial laudation of the good qualities of his

opponents. The ford toward Lanesborough being out of the question, the most

vigorous efforts were made to get possession of the bridge; but the stern

determination of the Irish party foiled every attempt.

At last the Irish breastwork, which prevented the English engineers from

laying a flooring over the now solitary chasm, was destroyed. It consisted

in great part of fascines (fagots), which being in an unlucky moment set on

fire by English grenades, were quickly consumed, owing to the dryness and

heat of the weather. The opportunity was not lost, planks were thrown

across, and even a flooring laid on in part, when a heroic band of ten men

of Maxwell's regiment, commanded by a sergeant, and all in armor, advanced

from the western end of the bridge, and began to tear up planks and boards,

and fling them into the river. A storm of bullets soon levelled them

despite their harness before they had completed the daring deed; but their

places were taken by another devoted eleven. They succeeded in

precipitating the remaining beams into the river at the sacrifice of the

lives of nine of their number. Two escaped, and the bridge was once more

impassable.

The name and fame of the historic or mythic Horatius Coeles has been

preserved for upward of two thousand years. There is not a verse extant to

the praise of these score of heroic men, martyrs to their cause. Their very

names are lost, if we except the sergeant, and probably _Custume_, the

name by which his memory is preserved, is either a mistake or a nickname.

The next attempt to pass the river was well arranged beforehand. It was

decided that at an early hour in the day efforts should be made at three

different points--the bridge, a ford lately discovered below the bridge,

and a point still lower to be crossed on pontoons. However, the boats

required more time to reach their places than was calculated on, and a

covered gallery, intended to facilitate the passage at the bridge, was

destroyed at the commencement of the advance. The Irish and English

grenadiers on the bridge began to fling their peculiar weapons at each

other, and luck being with the Irish on this occasion, their grenades set

fire to the enemy's fascines and to the covered gallery. There being a

strong westerly wind at the time, the flames spread rapidly, and caused

much confusion.

{122}

St. Ruth had received previous intimation of the design, and the flower of

the Irish troops were ready to receive the unwelcome visitors. Detachments

had poured into the garrison, and the main army remained under the cover of

the western ramparts of the Irish town, to rush in on the storming body if

they succeeded in crossing the river. The event of the strife on the bridge

prevented the attempt by the ford or the pontoons.

This check had a very disheartening effect upon the besieging forces; for,

though their cannon ceaselessly continued to play on the defences of the

Irish town, a council of war was held, wherein the difficulties of staying

there any longer were represented.

The council came to a wise resolution under the circumstances. It was

dangerous to retire, it was dangerous to advance; but glory and honor might

wait on the latter alterative, and it was adopted. The report of two

deserters who succeeded in coming across encouraged them in their

courageous resolve. They represented St. Ruth and his officers as put off

their guard, and expected to hear of the retreat of the English at any

moment. They also reported the garrison at that moment as consisting of

three of the rawest regiments in the whole force.

The report was in the main correct. St. Ruth had given a large party to the

ladies and gentlemen of the country, and universal joy and negligence ruled

in the army. The general, wishing to season the latest recruits, sent them

to keep garrison, directing that the fortifications in the rear, chiefly

consisting of earth works, should be levelled, so as to afford facility for

the new hands to retire, if they found themselves crowded by the foe, and

also facility to the tried men in the camp to come to their relief under

the same undesirable circumstances. D'Usson represented the want of wisdom

in the appointment of the raw hands to the post of danger, and further

objected to the destruction of the ramparts. The Irish chiefs did not

cordially co-operate; and there was a palpable want of wisdom in their

councils. The earthworks remained untouched, and the inexperienced soldiers

were set to learn their first dangerous lesson, a fierce foe in front, no

means of safe retreat in the rear, and a prodigious stake depending on

their firmness. [Footnote 31]

[Footnote 31: It is mentioned in some accounts that when these new men

found themselves at their posts they were unprovided with powder.

Having after some delay got this article, they had to apply again for

bullets. Captain Maxwell, to whom the application came, thinking they

were already provided, jestingly asked, "Was it to shoot larks?"]

The ford already mentioned had been tried in the first instance by three

Dutchmen in armor, the English guns firing volleys apparently at them, but

in reality over their heads during the transit. This device protected them

from the Irish bullets, as they were supposed to be deserters. However,

when they turned round after a reasonably near approach to the Irish side,

they began to find the leaden shower pelting about their ears from that

quarter. They made their escape with some slight wounds, the water at the

deepest having only reached their waists. The season was a remarkably dry

one, and that ford had never been so shallow in the memory of man.

De Ginckel and his chiefs, having come to the resolution of trying another

bold assault, did not defer its execution till the enemy should become

apprised of their intention. The hour of relieving guard at six o'clock was

chosen, when the Irishtown men saw nothing very unusual in the crowding of

the English soldiers into the garrison. Everything being minutely arranged

between the Dutch general and his officers, a body of determined men moved

toward the ford. This was the critical movement on the success of which

depended the action to be taken at the other two passages. And here a

quotation from the memoir of Patrick Sarsfield, by J. W. Cole, Esq., will

help to make the state of things at that hour more clear:

{123}

"Sarsfield apprised St. Ruth of the enemy's intention. He turned a deaf

ear to the messenger who found him dressing for a shooting excursion,

laughed at the idea of bringing up the army to repel an imaginary attack,

and said scoffingly that his officers were tired with dancing at last

night's ball. Sarsfield repeated the intelligence, representing in the

most urgent terms that not a moment was to be lost. 'They dare not do

it,' said the confident Frenchman, 'and I so near,' adding that he would

give a thousand louis to hear that the English durst attempt to pass.

'Spare your money and mind your business,' was the gruff retort of

Sarsfield. 'I know the English better than you do. There is no enterprise

too desperate for their courage to attempt.'"

Col. Charles O'Kelly gives it as his opinion that the Scotch Colonel

Maxwell "sold the pass." Here is a translation of his Latin:

"One of his legions having swam over the Lycus that afternoon, no sooner

came to Ororis (Ginekel) and delivered him a private message than the

party was immediately detached to attack the river. When the soldiers

called out to Maxilles for arrows (bullets), he would give them none, but

asked them whether they should shoot against the birds of the air. He

ordered the men to lie down and take their rest, saying there would be no

action till night. So that when the enemy entered, the soldiers for the

most part were asleep, and few or none in their posts. When the first man

of the enemy mounted the breach, be boldly asked him, 'Do you know me?'

whereupon he got quarter, and all the rest were put to the sword; this it

seems being the signal to distinguish the betrayer from the rest, and it

is supposed that Ororis commanded those who were upon the attack, to use

the officer well who should put that question. ... Lysander (Sarsfield)

accused him a few days before in the general's presence, and it is

certain it was not prudently done, after giving you such a public

affront, to intrust to him the command of a post of that importance, but

it seems Corydon (Tyrconnel) would have it so, and Pyrrhus (St. Ruth) did

not think fit to disoblige the viceroy."

We are not convinced of Maxwell's treachery, Col. O'Kelly's surmises

notwithstanding. He intensely disliked Tyrconnel, and this dislike was

shared in by all who enjoyed his favor. The public accusation, and the

important post intrusted soon after to the accused are the reverse of cause

and effect. We shall presently set his behavior at the assault in a better

light.

The Passage of the Shannon.

A few minutes after the tolling of the church bell at 6 o'clock P.M., the

English batteries commenced playing furiously on the town, seconded by

numerous volleys from marksman who were stationed on ladders placed against

the inside of the wall in English town. In directing this deafening uproar

Ginckel seems to have badly co-operated with Colonel Maxwell in putting the

poor raw recruits to sleep. Simultaneously with this flourish, the trial of

the ford was made, to describe which we prefer the words of the

eye-witness, Story, to those of any other, including our own.

"About 2,000 detach't men were now ready, and Major-General Mackay to

command them. Major-General Tettcau, the Prince of Hesse, and Brigadeer

La Molliner were likewise of the party, and Major-General Talmarsh went a

volunteer with a party of grannadeers, commanded by Collonel Gustavus

Hambleton. And for the greater encouragement to the soldiers, the general

distributed a sum of guinea's amongst them, knowing the powerful

influence of gold, though our armies had as little occasion for such

gratuities (I mean as to that point of whetting their courage) as any in

all the world, and have done as much without them.

"The ford was over against a bastion of the enemies where a breach was

made already, and the river being try'd three days before, ... and found

passable; so that all things being in this order, six minutes past six a

clock, Captain Sandys and two lieutenants led the first party of 60

granadeers, all in armour and 20 a breast, seconded by another good body,

who all with an amazing resolution took the river, the stream being very

rapid and deep (?) at which time our great and small shot began to play

from our batteries and works on our side upon the enemies works on the

other, and they fired as thick as possible upon our men that were passing

the river, who forced their way thro fire and smoak, and gaining the

other bank the rest laid planks over the broken part of the bridge, and

others were laying the bridge of boats, by which our men passed over so

fast that in less than half an hour we were masters of the town. ... A

great many of the Irish were killed in their works, and yet its

observable that our men when they saw themselves really masters of the

town, were not at all forward to kill those at their mercy, though it was

in a manner in the heat of action. But the rubbish and stuff thrown down

by our cannon was more difficult to climb over than a great part of the

enemies works which occasioned our soldiers to swear and curse even among

the bullets themselves, upon which Major-General Mackay told them that

they had more reason to fall upon their knees and thank God for their

victory, and that they were brave men and the best of men if they would

swear less. ...

{124}

Among the (Irish officers) were slain during the siege and attack, Col.

O'Gara, [Footnote 32] Col. Richard Grace, Col. Art. Oge Mackmahon, two of

the Mack Genness, and several others."

[Footnote 32: This is probably a mistake, as there is record but of one

Col. O'Gara in King James's forces, and he is afterward heard of at

Limerick. Col. Richard Grace had fought vigorously for Charles I. till

the surrender at Oxford in 1646. Returning to Ireland he raised at his

own expense a force estimated at from three to five thousand men, and

enjoyed the honor of having his head valued at £500 by Cromwell. In

1652 he was permitted to retire to the continent with a contingent of

1200 men. The Duke of York always treated him with the greatest

friendship. After the restoration his estates in the King's County and

were restored to him. He had defendant Athlone during Cromwell's wars,

and again in 1690 against Douglas. During his government of this

garrison he was rigid in repressing any outrages on the country people

by the military, and on one occasion he had 10 soldiers hung at the

same time from the outer wall for such offenses. He was killed the day

preceding the capture, and his body discovered when the English got

possession. His activity and energy could not be surpassed. In bringing

up forces from a part of Kilkenny to Athlone he walked with the men

seventy miles in two days. Another time he rode from Dublin to Athlone

and back, 116 Irish miles in twenty-four hours.]

Notwithstanding the treachery imputed to Col. Maxwell, he exerted himself

gallantly to cover the retreat of the poor recruits, who found the rear

fortifications sadly in their way. St. Ruth, on receiving the fatal news,

sent off Major-General John Hamilton with two brigades of infantry to drive

out the enemy. But as the western ramparts had been considerately left for

the protection and comfort of this same enemy, the scrambling over these

works, and the subsequent driving out of the numerous and flushed forces

behind them, was not to be accomplished by a mere _coup de main_, and

two infantry brigades. They did what in them lay. They covered the retreat

of the fugitives, and gave the vanguard of their pursuers a warm reception.

Col. Maxwell, now a prisoner, and a passive spectator, afterward declared

that he had entertained great hopes of being rescued during the short but

deadly strife between the combatants. St. Ruth's feelings were not to be

envied the night of that dismal day; for he must have been sensible that,

owing to his contempt of the enemy, over-weaning confidence, and neglecting

necessary precautions, or not insisting on their execution, he wretchedly

permitted the great stronghold of the king for whom he commanded to be

taken out of his bands.

"At Ballinasloe (we quote Mr. Cole) he drew up his forces intending to

make a stand. Sarsfield, backed by the other general officers,

represented that it was madness to risk a certain defeat there by

engaging a superior and better disciplined army, flushed with the recent

conquest of Athlone; that the wiser plan would be to hold Galway and

Limerick with strong garrisons, to march with the remainder of the

infantry and all the cavalry into Munster and Leinster, intercept the

enemy's communications, and perhaps make a dash upon Dublin, which was

left in a state unprepared for resistance. St. Ruth yielded to their

remonstrances, and retreated to Aughrim; but here he suddenly and in evil

hour for his own cause changed his determination, and resolved to risk a

battle. He was either stung by the loss of Athlone, or prompted by

personal vanity which whispered to him that he was destined to

immortalize his name by a great victory."

Having made up his mind to abide the brunt of Ginckel's well-appointed and

well-disciplined and numerous forces, he halted his dispirited but

determined troops on the hill-side of Kilcomedan, about three miles

south-west of Ballinasloe.

The Field of Aughrim.

Probably most of our readers are in the same predicament with relation to

this hill of dismal memory. They have not looked over that battle-field,

and probably never will, the Great Western railway notwithstanding. So we

borrow the graphic account of a writer who examined the ridge from end to

end, the Danish fort on its summit, and the unlucky old castle, conversed

with an aged man of the village, who had long since spoken with an aged

woman, who when a very young girl had brought some country produce to King

James's soldiers, and had witnessed with terror and curiosity some of the

occurrences of the fatal 12th of July, 1691.

"The hill of Kilcomedan is in no part very steep. It forms a gradual

slope extending almost due north and from end to end, a distance of about

a mile and a half; and at the time of which we speak it was perfectly

open and covered with heath. Along the crest or this hill was perched the

Irish camp, and the position in which St. Ruth was resolved to await the

enemy extended along its base.

{125}

"The foremost line of the Irish composed entirely of musketeers, occupied

a series of small enclosures, and was covered in front throughout its

entire extent by a morass through which flows a little stream, and this

swamp with difficulty passable by infantry, was wholly so for cavalry.

Through two passes only was the Irish position thus covered assailable

upon firm ground, the one at the extreme right much the more open of the

two, and called the pass of Urrachree from an old house and demesne which

lay close to it, and the other at the extreme left, by the long straight

road leading into the town of Aughrim. This road was broken, and so

narrow that some annalists state that two horses could not pass it

abreast; in addition to which it was commanded by the castle of Aughrim,

then as now it is true but a ruin, but whose walls and enclosures

nevertheless afforded effectual cover, and a position such as ought to

have rendered the pass impregnable. Beyond those passes at either side

were extensive bogs, and dividing them the interposing morass. The

enclosures in which the advanced musketeers were posted, afforded

excellent cover, and from one to the other communications had been cut,

and at certain intervals their whole length was traversed by broad

passages, intended to admit the flanking charge of the Irish cavalry in

case the enemy's infantry should succeed in forcing their way thus far.

The main line extended in a double row of columns parallel to the

advanced position of the musketeers, and the reserve of the cavalry was

drawn up on a small plain a little behind the castle of Aughrim, which

was occupied by a force of about two thousand men. The Irish army

numbered in all, perhaps, about twenty thousand men, and the position

they held extended more than an English mile, and was indeed as powerful

a one as could possibly have been selected."

Begging the author's indulgence for this needful theft, we own ourselves

unable to resist the temptation of committing another, especially as, if he

had been under harness himself that day in the Irish camp, he would not

have voluntarily shared in the solemn function so vividly describes:

"Many of our readers are doubtless aware that the field of Aughrim was

fought upon a Sunday, a circumstance which added one to the many

thrilling incidents of the martial scene. The army had hardly moved into

that position which was that day to be so hardly and devotedly

maintained, when the solemn service of high mass was commenced at the

head of every regiment by its respective chaplain; and during this solemn

ceremonial were arriving at every moment fresh messengers from the

outposts, their horses covered with dust and foam, with the stern

intelligence that the enemy were steadily approaching; and amid all this

excitement and suspense, in silence and bare-beaded, kneeled the devoted

thousands in the ranks in which they were to receive the foe, and on the

very ground on which they were in a few hours so desperately to contend.

This solemn and striking ceremonial under circumstances which even the

bravest admit to be full of awe, and amid the tramp and neighing of

horses, and jingling of accoutrements, and the distant trumpet signals

from the outposts, invested the scene with a wildness and sublimity of

grandeur, which blanched many a cheek, and fluttered many a heart with

feelings very different from those of fear."

The Pass of Urrachree.

A thick vapor, called up from the surrounding bogs and marshes by the hot

morning sun, kept the rival armies concealed from each other's sight till

about 12 o'clock, when, all becoming clear, the men on Kilcomedan had a

full sight of the allied forces, commanded by eight majors-general, and

arranged in double columns, their rich appointments presenting an

unpleasant contrast to their own much more modest if not shabby garb and

accoutrements. As soon as General Ginckel could command a distinct view

from a height toward the left of his lines, he was enabled to judge of the

strength of the position held by the Irish, and the skill shown in the

disposition of the forces adverted to above. He could see one portion of

the cavalry prepared to dispute the pass at Urrachree, another watching the

pass at Aughrim, the main body of horse posted below the crest of the hill,

the infantry still lower disposed in two columns, and he could guess the

presence of musketeers in the ditches at the bottom of the hill, prepared

to receive the hardy infantry who would venture across the morass to

exchange shots with them. Sarsfield's horse beyond the brow of Kilcomedan

on the Irish left, he probably did not observe. There was the shrewd and

fiery chief placed, with strict orders from his unfriendly superior not to

stir from that spot till expressly ordered.

{126}

Had the gallant Dutchman at that moment known that St. Ruth had not

communicated to any of his general officers the scheme be intended to

observe through the engagement, his hopes of victory would have been much

more sanguine. Feeling the inexpediency of commencing a general engagement,

yet impatient of the scene of inactivity before him, he gave orders to a

Danish captain of horse commanding sixteen men to attempt the pass of

Urrachree. The small body was warmly received by some watching cavalry

still fewer in number, and though the brave officer justified the

reputation of his country for dogged courage, his men were deserted by that

virtue so essential to every soldier, and "ran like men."

Ginckel, fully aware of the importance of the pass in case a general

engagement should take place, next directed Colonel Albert Conyngham to

take possession of some ditches near where one branch of the stream entered

the morass. The chief of this party had received orders not to advance

beyond the mere boundary, lest he should be intercepted, and thus bring on

a premature engagement. The Irish party, after receiving the enemy's fire

and returning it, showed their backs, and their assailants pursued them

beyond the limits pointed out by the sagacious De Ginckel. An ambush had

been prepared in expectation of this proceeding, and, while they were least

expecting it, a destructive fire was opened on them from behind cover. Many

immediately dismounted, and, taking advantage of a hedge, returned the fire

with deadly interest. They had little time to enjoy the success of this

move, when they were startled by the rush of a strong cavalry force

sweeping down on them from behind the extremity of the hill, and the old

manor-house of Urrachree. They were obliged to retire in disorder before

this new enemy, but the watchful eye of the justly displeased general had

well marked the progress of the action, and provided for the expected

repulse. D'Eppinger's royal regiment of Holland dragoons came on amain to

get between the pursuing Irish horse and the hill. But other detachments of

Irish cavalry were at hand to frustrate this design; the Earl of Portland's

horse were sent to support the forcing party, and a stern combat was waged

for about an hour, fresh parties joining the strife from the natural

impatience of men of heart to remain still while blows are bandying before

their eyes. At three o'clock this contention came to an end, both sides

having lost several stout partisans, and the relative positions being much

the same as at the beginning of the skirmish.

For the next hour and a half nothing was done on either aide. The English

generals were in close consultation as to whether it were better to renew

the attack or defer it till next morning. The brave old Scotchman, Mackay,

decided his fellow commanders for present action. He counselled a renewed

and more effective attempt at Urrachree, which, causing re-enforcements to

be drawn from the Irish centre and the neighborhood of Aughrim, would

enable the infantry to try the morass where it was narrowest, and also

enable the cavalry on the right wing to force the dangerous pass at

Aughrim, watched by the garrison of the ruined castle.

The Morass And The Hedges.

At this time (half-past four in the evening) the main body of the English

formed two lines directly before the morass, the generals on each side

having a pretty correct idea of the state and efficiency of their foes. In

other respects the advantage was with the allied army. There was a perfect

cordiality and understanding between De Ginckel and his generals, and even

in the case of his death and that of his second in command the Duke of

Wirtemberg, Mackay, or Talmash, or De Ruvigny were perfectly apprised of

the general plan of the action.

{127}

The Danish horse and a body of infantry were ordered to the extreme left,

with the apparent design to out-flank the enemy on that side, and thus draw

away from the Irish centre and left wing much of the strength there needed.

This body (the Dutch, to wit) kept that postilion during the remainder of

the battle, doing as good service as if actually engaged. Three French

regiments, namely, those of La Mellonière, Du Cambon, and Belcassel,

commenced to assail the advanced forces of the Irish in the neighborhood of

these inactive troops, and obliged St. Ruth to weaken his left and centre

to support them. Except the cannonading from both sides there was no

fighting going on until six o'clock along the entire line, except this in

the neighborhood of Urrachree.

Mackay, in order to weaken still more the Irish left wing, advised Ginckel

to separate a considerable body of horse from Talmash's troops, who were

waiting for a favorable opportunity to tempt the narrow pass toward

Aughrim, and to send them toward Urrachree. This had the desired effect,

and now preparations were made to cross the morass at the narrowest part

and attack the Irish centre.

While detachments of the second line of the left centre of the Irish were

marching to defend the pass at Urrachree, and thus leaving their late

positions comparatively weak, four English regiments, commanded by Colonels

Erie, Herbert, Creighton, and Brewer, effected the passage of the marsh,

and were received by a volley from the men ensconced behind the lowest

fence. Openings (as before mentioned) being ready, these marksman, as soon

as they were dislodged, retired behind the next shelter, and repeated the

process till they had drawn the British soldiers nearly half a mile up the

hill.

Now their orders had been to wait till a much greater force had crossed at

a wider portion of the morass lower down (that is, near Aughrim, the stream

in the centre of the morass flowing in that direction), and effected a

junction with them. So when they saw their cunning enemies, joined by the

main central force, and these again backed by cavalry, all preparing to

sweep down on them, they remembered too late the wise orders they had

received. However, if the charging party were Irish wolf-hounds, the

charged were English bull-dogs, and determined to make courage repair evil

done by rashness. The gallant Colonel Erie cried out: "There is no way to

come off but to be brave!" But neither the courage of the men nor the

ability of the leaders could resist the downward charge of horse and foot,

and the flanking bullets that rained on them. Colonels Erie and Herbert and

some captains were taken prisoners and rescued, and recaptured, and we are

sorry to record that Colonel Herbert was killed while prisoner, from

apprehension of his rescue. The English did not or could not make use of

the fences in their downward flight, as their pursuers had done when

enticing them upward, but were driven, as it were, by press of men till the

survivors once more gained the bog.

Meantime five regiments, for whose safe lodgment these rash men ought to

have waited, had crossed the wider part of the morass lower down, under the

command of the veteran Major-General Mackay and Prince George of Hesse.

This fiery young warrior was ordered by his senior to keep his division

stationary in a cornfield until he himself should have made a sufficient

_detour_ to the right among difficult ground and to attack the enemy

in flank while Prince George was assailing them in front.

The same error as that just previously committed by the staid English

colonels was repeated by the impetuous young German prince. Being fired at

and probably jeered or mocked by the ditch holders he advanced to chastise

them, and both parties came to such close quarters that the ends of their

muskets nearly touched.

{128}

Back went the Irish musketeers, after them pushed the assailants, new

shelter taken, fresh shots fired, fresh dislodgments, no attention paid by

Englander or foreigner till they found themselves surrounded and assailed

front, flank, and rear, by the Irish. There was a skirmishing retreat made

till the corn-field was reached by the survivors, some even whose care for

self overpowered love of fame or fighting, never stayed till they had put

the morass between themselves and the pestilent hedgemen.

General Mackay, having mastered the difficulties before him, was in hopes

of having the Irish foe between himself and the holders of the cornfield,

but was thunderstruck on his return at the demoralized condition of his

rash friends. He sent to request aid from General Talmash, and the three

parties renewed a desperate onslaught on the musketeers who occupied the

fences. They were received with the same determined resolution and deadly

fire as on the two former occasions, and were obliged by the close and

uninterrupted musket volleys and flank charges of horse to fall back on the

cornfield, the marsh, and even to the dry ground on the eastern side on a

line with the English batteries.

Three times did the tide of battle flow and ebb across the bog on that

memorable afternoon, each party inspired with the dogged determination and

hate that a struggle for life and for a darling cause inspired. Even the

Williamite chaplain was obliged in a manner to do justice to the bravery of

the Irish enemy. Describing the beginning of the attack, he says:--

"The _Irish_ in the meantime laid so close in their ditches that

several were doubtful whether they had any men at that place or not, but

they were convinced of it at last, for no sooner were the _French_

and the rest got within twenty yards or less of the ditches, but the

_Irish_ fired most furiously upon them, which our men as bravely

sustained, and pressed forward, though they could scarce see one another

for smoak. And now the thing seemed so doubtful for some time that the

by-standers would rather have given it on the Irish side, for they had

driven our foot in the centre so far that they were got almost in a line

with some of our great guns planted near the bog, which we had not the

benefit of at that juncture, because of the mixture of our men and

theirs."

During the continuance of this deadly strife in the centre, De Ginckel was

directing the efforts of the foreign auxiliaries against the defenders of

Urrachree. The general himself, regardless of his own safety, exposed his

life on more than one occasion. He was re-enforced more than once from the

left, but all that the greatest skill and energy on the part of himself and

his generals, and bravery on the part of their men could effect, were

insufficient to remove the Irish cavalry from their ground of vantage. Next

to this mingled war of cavalry and infantry, and nearer the centre, the

French infantry regiments of La Mellonière, Du Camben, and Belcassel

struggled, like the fiery stout fellows they were, to drive the Irish

infantry opposed to them from their ditches. They (the French) fortified

their positions when any advantage was gained by _chevaux de frise_,

but these were again and again taken and destroyed by their opponents.

Scarcely did any portion of the mingled peoples suffer so much in the

deadly struggle at Aughrim as these gallant Frenchmen. Had De Ginckel's

cavalry, and these French infantry, succeeded in dislodging their

opponents, they would then be in a position to take the Irish centre in

flank, and bring the struggle to a speedy close, but this was not the mode

in which it was the will of Providence to decide the day.

Where was St. Ruth employed during these momentous struggles? Just where he

should have been, in front of his camp near the crest of the hill, watching

the fluctuations of the battle, issuing orders, and sending aid wherever

they were needed. Our chaplain says that he was so pleasurably excited by

the charges of his central infantry to the very line of the British

batteries that he flung his gold-laced hat into the air, extolling the

bravery of the Irish infantry, and exclaiming that "he would now drive back

the English to the gates of Dublin."

{129}

How the Pass of Aughrim was Forced.

So far the Irish forces were sustained in their gallant struggle; but now

the scale of fortune began to waiver. Their final defeat began in a quarter

from which it was totally unlooked for by either themselves or their

antagonists. The castle of Aughrim, so well garrisoned, looked on a narrow

pass crossed by the stream before mentioned, but a little to the S. E. this

isthmus of firm land opened out to a tolerably wide space "in the shape of

a spindle furnished with its complement of thread." Here at about this time

of the fight, the extreme right of the English force planted some cannon,

and cleared of its defenders the gorge of the isthmus just between them and

the space before the castle. So far a step was made in the right direction;

they were enabled to make the next by the stupidity or treachery of an

officer who had been directed to send to Urrachree a detachment from the

second or rear line of the army toward the left. Along with this complement

he sent away a battalion from the front line; [Footnote 33] and this being

remarked by the English officers, three infantry battalions making use of

hurdles, slipped across the edge of the morass in front of the castle,

[Footnote 34] and took possession of a cornfield on the Irish side. The

Irish musketeers stationed behind the hedges in that quarter, aware of the

wide breach in the main columns behind them, retreated after delivering one

discharge, and took refuge in the hollow near the castle, the post of the

reserve cavalry. A troop of these coming to the rescue, the Englishmen took

to the shelter of the hedges where they had little to fear from a charge.

[Footnote 33: Colonel Henry Luttrell having had to do in this transfer

of the front line force where they were needed, gave a color to the

tradition of his having "sold the pass at Aughrim."]

[Footnote 34: Let it be borne in mind that the castle was on the north

side of the narrow road or pass, and that its defenders had before

their eyes the N.E. side of Kilcomedan and the morass so often

mentioned. The village of Aughrim lay to the west of the castle, and

Irish reserve force partly between castle and village.]

This successful manoeuver encouraged the passage of two other regiments

nearer to the centre, namely, those commanded by Lord George Hamilton and

Sir Henry Belasyse, and the moment seemed favorable for the approach of the

cavalry through the defile which they had cleared of its guards as already

mentioned. They were accompanied by infantry, who not being restricted to

the narrow limit of the boggy road, were prepared to fire on all the

visible defenders of the occupants of the outer works of the place. After

all, it is really difficult to account for the apparently rash movement.

There were 2,000 men in and about the castle, and two field-pieces were in

readiness to rake the pass in front. What possibility was there that a line

of horsemen two or three abreast, unable to return the fire of the

protected enemy, could escape destruction? We knew that small parties of

men have exposed their lives as on forlorn-hope enterprises, but here were

whole regiments.

Could it be that the leaders were aware that the danger to be incurred did

not exceed in degree the ordinary risks of warfare?

The chaplain says in reference to the apparent danger of the attempt:

"The French general seeing our men attempt to do this, askt, '_What

they meant by it?_ and being answered that they would certainly

endeavor to pass there, and attack him on the left, he is said to reply

with an oath, 'They are brave fellows; it's a pity they should be so

exposed.'"

It is very probable that the words were uttered by the general, for the

long file of horses and cavaliers were distant only thirty yards from the

sheltered marksmen.

The adventurous bands owed their safety to a direct interposition of

Providence, to a detestable deed of treachery, or to the grossest piece of

negligence or stupidity in the annals of warfare.

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We are told that Colonel Walter Bourke, commander of the garrison, having

sent to the camp for ammunition, four barrels of gunpowder and four of

bullets were sent to him. But when the barrels of ball were opened, on the

approach of the enemy, the eyes of the men engaged in the operation were

blasted by the sight of cannon-balls! The confusion and misery of the

defenders, officers and men, may scarcely be comprehended. However, they

resorted to the only means in their power. To supply ammunition they loaded

with buttons, with nails, with bits of stone, with their ramrods when all

else was expended, and did what execution they could.

The infantry regiments of Hamilton and Kirke, having found materials at

hand, barricaded a wide opening on the east side of the castle, in order to

prevent a charge on the cannon when passing from the Irish reserve in the

rere, and then they took possession of a dry ditch, whence they dislodged

the defenders of the castle's outworks, whose ammunition was expended, and

who for their misfortune lived before the bayonet was invented.

The Irish reserve, hearing from the fugitives how things were going on,

sped round to the opening on their left, through which they might charge on

the advancing artillery train; but there they found themselves checkmated

by the barrier set up by the English infantry. They wheeled round, and,

having made the circuit of the castle, they found themselves face to face

with Lord Oxford's regiment, who, under Sir Francis Compton, had already

gained the open ground. A brisk engagement took place, and the English

cavalry were twice driven back, but, being soon re-enforced by the horse

and dragoons of De Rouvigny, Langston, Byerly, and Levingston, they made

good their footing, several being slain on both sides.

It may well be supposed that St. Ruth was not a little surprised to see the

narrow and dangerous passage so well and safely achieved, and the lodgment

effected at the bottom of the hill by the English infantry. Still there was

nothing very disheartening in all this. He was at the head of a fine body

of cavalry; only four squadrons of the enemy had as yet effected a standing

at the north-east extremity of the hill; he and his troopers would charge

down and annihilate the rash intruders; and if need were, he could easily

summon the brave Earl of Lucan and his horse, who had been kept inactive to

this moment, and dared not stir till the word was given.

Here a tirade might very appropriately come in against the spite of fortune

toward the Irish cause, and particularly toward the aspirations of the

single-minded and heroic Patrick Sarsfield. He had been kept at the fight

of the Boyne in attendance on the king; at Aughrim he sat his horse on one

side of Kilcomedan while the exciting battle game was being played at the

other, and in neither case had he an opportunity of charging, or ordering

to charge, or directing a movement, or striking a blow. A complete insight

into the workings of his troubled and ireful heart on these days would not

be desirable.

One Shot Decides the Victory.

The general, doomed to enjoy but a few minutes more of existence, was

radiant with confident hope. Preparing for the final swoop, he cried, "They

are beaten; let us beat them to the purpose!" He gave some directions to an

artillery officer, placed himself at the head of his guard, and was about

to give the command to charge when his head was blown to pieces by a

cannon-ball!

Does not it now seem an easy thing for the next in command then to have

sent at once to Lord Lucan, inform him of the fatal accident, and summon

him to take the chief command? It was a simple matter to charge on the

advancing columns, and through superiority in number and fresh untired

forces render what they had effected of no avail. No. A cloak was laid over

the body, and it was conveyed to the rere; part of the guard accompanied

it, and the rest soon followed.

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The historians do not agree on the final resting-place of the body of the

gallant but ill-advised Frenchman, but the probability is that it was

conveyed to Athenry and interred in its roofless church; peace to his

memory! [Footnote 35]

[Footnote 35: From the Green Book of Mr. O'Callachan, we extract

(abridged) a curious traditional passage connected with the death of

St. Ruth. The day before the battle, a neighboring gentlemen, by name

O'Kelly, presented himself before him demanding payment of sundry sheep

driven off his lands by the soldiers. The general refused, alleging

that he should not grudge food to the men who were fighting for him and

his country. O'Kelly persisting, the general used harsh language, and

the other turning to his herdsman, bade him in Irish to mark St. Ruth

and his appearance. "You are robbed, master," said the herd, "but

anyhow, ask for the skins." These were needed by the soldiers for bed

furniture, and all that master and herd obtained by the second request

was a preemptory order to be gone. They obeyed and sought the English

general, who recommended them to the care of a certain artillery

officer named Trench. When the passage before the castle was made,

Trench got his piece of ordinance fixed in an advantageous place on the

edge of the marsh by means of planking, and as soon as the treacherous

herd caught sight of St. Ruth he cried out, "Take aim! There he is, a

man dressed like a bandsman." One wheel of the carriage being lower

than was requisite, Trench put his boot under it, and everything being

adjusted aim was taken, and O'Kelly and his herd got their revenge, and

the favor of the ruling powers.]

However unaccountable it may seem, Sarsfield received no intelligence of

St. Ruth's death till it was too late to repair the mischance. Meanwhile

the English who had crossed at Aughrim found time to assist their

struggling friends in the centre, and the musketeers were gradually driven

upward. The main body of Irish infantry on right of the centre were as much

discouraged by the death of Rev. Dr. Stafford, an energetic chaplain, as

the guards had been by that of the commander-in-chief. The right wing at

Urrachree, after incessant fighting, were obliged to retreat before the

increasing numbers of their assailants released from duty elsewhere, and

the English and Danish cavalry at Urrachree were at leisure to relieve the

Huguenot infantry on their right from the fierce attacks of the Irish

infantry to whom they had been opposed.

It was now past sunset and the rout of King James's adherents had become

general, the last to retreat being the infantry next to Urrachree, who had

done such good service against the regiments of La Mellonière, Du Cambon,

and Belcassel.

After the Battle.

The infantry fled to the protection of the large red bog on their left, and

the cavalry made an orderly retreat south-west, along the road to Loughrea.

The poor infantry were slaughtered without mercy by the pursuing cavalry,

but a thick mist mercifully sent saved the lives of many. An ingenious

diversion in their favor was made by a brave and thoughtful officer of the

old race of O'Reilly, who, getting on a small eminence, sounded the charge

for battle, and stopped for a few minutes the bloody pursuit. One skilled

in the domestic economy of battles may explain why the Irish cavalry did

not combine and present a strong and effective obstacle to the English

horse, while the poor fellows on foot were getting away under their

shelter. The present writer being a mere civilian can allege no sufficient

reason. Neither does he seek to excuse the party to whom the garrison in

the old castle surrendered. Two thousand living men occupied the premises

in the morning, and of these (the few killed excepted) only the commander,

Walter Bourke, eleven officers, and forty soldiers, were granted their

lives. To account for the absence of mercy on the English side it was

asserted that NO QUARTER was among the instructions given to the Irish

before the battle. We are not in condition to decide whether the fact was

so or not.

The number of killed and wounded on both sides is variously estimated.

Story says the Irish loss was 7,000. Others state it at 4,000. Captain

Parker, on the English side, says that there were slain of the allied

troops, about 3,000. This is a problem in the solution of which we feel no

interest.

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We are gratified by the heroism displayed on both sides, and our

gratification would be much enhanced by finding it recorded that when

resistance ceased, quarter was generously granted. With few exceptions this

was not the case. Ardent partisan as the chaplain was, we are sure that his

better feelings were stirred by what he looked on "three days after when

all our own and some of theirs were interred."

"I reckoned in some small enclosures 150, in others 120, &c., lying most

of them by the ditches where they were shot, and the rest from the top of

the hill, where their camp had been, looked like a great flock of sheep,

shattered up and down the countrey for almost four miles round."

Were we sure of keeping our temper we would here commence a lay sermon on

the iniquity of those, whether emperors, kings, presidents, or evil

oouncillors, who for wretched objects, in which vanity or covetousness has

chief share, arm myriads of children of the great human family against each

others' lives, and feel neither pity nor remorse at the sight of poor naked

human remains, flung broadcast over heath, and moors, and hill-sides, like

grey stones, or the scattered sheep of our chaplain's illustration.

The English occupiers of the ground after the battle buried only their own

dead, unless where the presence of the other bodies interfered with their

convenience, and as the inhabitants of the neighborhood had quitted their

homes when the expectation of a battle became strong, the bodies of the

Irish soldiers remained above ground till nothing but the bones were left.

We quote an affecting incident from our chaplain relative to this sad

condition of things:

"Many dogges frequented the place long afterwards, and became so fierce

by feeding upon man's flesh, that it became dangerous for any single man

to pass that way. And there is a true and remarkable story of a greyhound

(wolfhound?) belonging to an _Irish_ officer. The gentleman was

killed and stripped in the battle, whose body the dog remained by, night

and day; and though he fed upon other corps with the rest of the dogs,

yet, he would not allow them or anything else to touch that of his

master. When all the corps were consumed all the dogs departed, but this

used to go in the night to the adjacent villages for food, and presently

to return to the place where his master's bones were only then left. And

thus he continued till January following, when one of Col. Faulk's

soldiers being quartered nigh hand, and going that that way by chance,

the dog, fearing he came to disturb his master's bones, flew upon the

soldier, who being surprised at the suddenness of the thing, unslung his

piece thereupon his back and killed the poor dog."

Though our drama cannot conclude till the articles come to be signed at

Limerick, the fight we have endeavored to describe with full justice to

both parties, may be considered the catastrophe or _denouement_ of the

piece, no engagement of its magnitude or so decisive in its results having

taken place afterward.

From Aughrim to Limerick

Sarsfield, at the head of the cavalry and some infantry, proceeded to

Limerick after the defeat of Aughrim; D'Usson conducted the main body of

the infantry to Galway, before which city De Ginckel arrived on the 20th of

the month. D'Usson had but few of the qualities requisite for a good

military chief, and negotiations were entered on next day, the Irish

evacuating the city, and the English general allowing them to proceed to

Limerick with the honors of war, and all the conveniences in his power to

afford them.

After Baldearg O'Donnel had much excited the expectations of the country

being freed through his valor and wisdom, he is found at this time a mere

chief of straggling parties, a greater terror to the natives by their

exactions than to the common enemy. He opened a correspondence with the

English general, and like some modern patriots was rewarded for the

annoyance he had hitherto given the English Government by a valuable

pension for life.

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Such was not the system acted on by our brave old acquaintance, Thigue

O'Regan, now a knight, and Governor of Sligo. Baldearg having deserted his

old-fashioned and loyal associate, Sir Thigue found himself on the 13th of

September at the head of 600 men and provided with twelve days' food, the

town and part of the citadel in the enemy's hands, and 5,000 fresh men sent

against him by Lord Granard ready to smash his fortifications, or starve

him into a sense of his condition. The little man of the long periwig, red

cloak, and plumed hat, had a head as well as a heart. He capitulated and

received all the respect due to loyalty and courage. He and his garrison

were conducted out with honor, their twelve days' provisions (their own

residue) given them, and all conveniences supplied them for their march to

Limerick. To honor the peppery old knight, the same terms were granted to

all the little garrisons in that country.

Omitting negotiations, marches, and petty affairs, important only to those

concerned, we come to De Ginckel's camp at Cariganless (as our chaplain

spells the name) in his progress to Limerick. On August 25th, the army left

that town.

Limerick's Last Defence.

On the 26th of August the besiegers of Limerick were at their posts, and on

the 30th the bombardment commenced. It was so severe and spread such

devastation within Irish town that many inhabitants took their beds and

migrated to the English town within the arms of the river, and Lords

Justices and delicate ladies and sundry lovers of quiet set up their rest

two miles inland in Clare. On the 10th of September forty yards of the

defending wall of English town were reduced to rubbish, but the arm of the

river was in the way, and no assault followed.

September 15th a bridge of boats was laid across the Shannon toward

Annabeg, and a large detachment of English horse and foot crossed to the

right bank of the Shannon. These took up their station beyond

Thomond-bridge, the Irish cavalry, whose place that was, being obliged to

remove to Sixmile-bridge. The laying of the bridge and the passage of the

detachment were effected through the gross negligence or treachery of

Brigadier Clifford, who was tried by a court martial for the offence. He

acknowledged the negligence, but stoutly denied the treason. Colonel Henry

Luttrell [Footnote 36] proved traitor without any doubt, and was kept close

prisoner till King James's will could be ascertained. Before that time came

the fortress was given up and Luttrell set at liberty. England rewarded him

for his intentions; and his name has since been a word of ill-omen in the

mouths of the Irish peasantry.

[Footnote 36: This is the same Colonel Luttrell who sold the pass at

Aughrim, as before mentioned. Ed. C. W.]

22d. De Ginckel attacked the Irish post on the Clare side of

Thomond-bridge. The three regiments of Kirke, Tiffin, and Lord George

Hamilton, overpowered Colonel Lacy with his 700 men, and when these sought

shelter in the city, they found themselves shut out by the town major, a

Frenchman, who feared that the foes would enter pell-mell with the friends.

Little quarter was given, and only 130 got the privilege of being made

prisoners of war. This is one of those instances in which the Irish party

suffered so fatally from the treachery or detestable negligence of some

among themselves.

The Duke of Tyrconnel died at the residence of D'Usson during the siege.