was the mark of both
guns. The first shot struck one of the holsters of Prince George of
Hesse, and brought his horse to the ground. "Ah!" cried the King; "the
poor Prince is killed." As the words passed his lips, he was himself
hit by a second ball, a sixpounder. It merely tore his coat, grazed his
shoulder, and drew two or three ounces of blood. Both armies saw that
the shot had taken effect; for the King sank down for a moment on his
horse's neck. A yell of exultation rose from the Irish camp. The English
and their allies were in dismay. Solmes flung himself prostrate on the
earth, and burst into tears. But William's deportment soon reassured his
friends. "There is no harm done," he said: "but the bullet came quite
near enough." Coningsby put his handkerchief to the wound: a surgeon was
sent for: a plaster was applied; and the King, as soon as the dressing
was finished, rode round all the posts of his army amidst loud
acclamations. Such was the energy of his spirit that, in spite of his
feeble health, in spite of his recent hurt, he was that day nineteen
hours on horseback, [693]

A cannonade was kept up on both sides till the evening. William observed
with especial attention the effect produced by the Irish shots on the
English regiments which had never been in action, and declared himself
satisfied with the result. "All is right," he said; "they stand fire
well." Long after sunset he made a final inspection of his forces by
torchlight, and gave orders that every thing should be ready for forcing
a passage across the river on the morrow. Every soldier was to put a
green bough in his hat. The baggage and great coats were to be left
under a guard. The word was Westminster.

The King's resolution to attack the Irish was not approved by all his
lieutenants. Schomberg, in particular, pronounced the experiment too
hazardous, and, when his opinion was overruled, retired to his tent in
no very good humour. When the order of battle was delivered to him, he
muttered that he had been more used to give such orders than to receive
them. For this little fit of sullenness, very pardonable in a general
who had won great victories when his master was still a child, the brave
veteran made, on the following morning, a noble atonement.

The first of July dawned, a day which has never since returned without
exciting strong emotions of very different kinds in the two populations
which divide Ireland. The sun rose bright and cloudless.