The struggle had thus narrowed itself.  It was now practically between Dublin, commanded by Jones, the Parliamentary general, upon one side, and all Ireland under Ormond and the now united Confederates on the other.  Cromwell, it was known, was preparing for a descent upon Ireland, and had issued liberal offers of the forfeited Irish lands to all who would aid him in the enterprise.  He had first, however, to land, and there was nowhere that he could do so excepting at Dublin or Londonderry.  All the efforts therefore of the Royalists were concentrated upon taking the capital before it became the starting-point of a new campaign.  Marching hastily from Kilkenny, Ormond established himself at a place called Baggotrath, near Rathmines, and close to the walls of the town.  Two nights after his arrival he sent forward a body of men under Colonel Purcell to try and effect a surprise.  Jones, however, was on the alert; drove Purcell back, and, following him with all the men at his command, fell upon Ormond’s camp, where no proper watch was being kept.  The surprise was thus completely reversed.  Six thousand of the confederate troops were killed or forced to surrender, and Ormond, with the remainder, had to fall back upon Kilkenny.

[Illustration:  JAMES, DUKE OF ORMOND. (From an engraving by White, after a picture by Kneller.)]

The battle of Baggotrath does not figure amongst the more famous battles of this period, but it was certainly the turning-point of the Irish campaign.  With his crippled forces, Ormond was unable again to take the field, and Jones was therefore left in undisputed possession of Dublin.  A week later, in August, 1649, Cromwell had landed there with 12,000 troops at his back.

XXXIX.

CROMWELL IN IRELAND.

Cromwell had hardly set foot upon Irish soil before he took complete control of the situation.  The enterprise, in his own eyes and in those of many who accompanied him, wore all the sacred hue of a crusade.  “We are come,” he announced, solemnly, upon his arrival in Dublin, “to ask an account of the innocent blood that hath been shed, and to endeavour to bring to an account all who, by appearing in arms, shall justify the same.”

Three thousand troops, the flower of the English cavaliers, with some of the Royalists of the Pale—­none of whom, it may be said, had anything to say to the Ulster massacres—­had been hastily thrown by Ormond into Drogheda, under Sir Arthur Ashton, a gallant Royalist officer; and to Drogheda, accordingly in September Cromwell marched.  Summoned to yield, the garrison refused.  They were attacked, and fought desperately, driving back their assailants at the first assault.  At the second, a breach was made in the walls, and Ashton and his force were driven into the citadel.  “Being thus entered,” Cromwell’s despatch to the Parliament runs, “we refused them quarter.  I believe we put to the sword the whole number of the defendents.  I do not think thirty escaped.  Those that did are in safe custody for the Barbadoes....  I wish,” he adds, a little later in the same despatch, “all honest hearts may give the glory of this to God alone.”