They knew that it was neither intended nor hoped that the ground
would be successfully held; and every man felt a pride in the thought
that some eighteen thousand newly-raised Irish levies, of whom but a
small portion of the infantry were armed with muskets, had sustained,
throughout a long summer's day, the attacks of more than double their
number of veteran troops, supported by fifty pieces of artillery.
The loss of the Irish horse had been comparatively small. Charging a
square, in the days when the bayonet was fixed in the muzzle of the gun,
was not the desperate undertaking that it now is, when from the hedge of
steel issues a rolling and continuous fire. The French regiment, once
broken, had been cut down with scarce any resistance, while the mercenary
cavalry had been defeated with the greatest ease. Thus, among the brigade
of the Irish horse there were but few fallen friends to mourn, and
nothing to mar the pride that every man felt, in the behaviour of the
Irish troops against such overwhelming odds. That the king had fled,
everyone knew, but the feeling was one of relief.
"His absence is more than a victory to us," Captain Davenant said, as,
with a group of officers, he sat by a fire, made of a fence hastily
pulled down.
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