his hat a green bough, were mustered on the Leinster bank of the
Shannon. Many of them doubtless remembered that on that day year
they had, at the command of King William, put green boughs in
their hats on the banks of the Boyne. Guineas had been liberally
scattered among these picked men; but their alacrity was such as
gold cannot purchase. Six battalions were in readiness to support
the attack. Mackay commanded. He did not approve of the plan; but
he executed it as zealously and energetically as if he had
himself been the author of it. The Duke of Wirtemberg, Talmash,
and several other gallant officers, to whom no part in the
enterprise had been assigned, insisted on serving that day as
private volunteers; and their appearance in the ranks excited the
fiercest enthusiasm among the soldiers.

It was six o'clock. A peal from the steeple of the church gave
the signal. Prince George of Hesse Darmstadt, and Gustavus
Hamilton, the brave chief of the Enniskilleners, descended first
into the Shannon. Then the grenadiers lifted the Duke of
Wirtemberg on their shoulders, and, with a great shout, plunged
twenty abreast up to their cravats in water. The stream ran deep
and strong; but in a few minutes the head of the column reached
dry land. Talmash was the fifth man that set foot on the
Connaught shore. The Irish, taken unprepared, fired one confused
volley and fled, leaving their commander, Maxwell, a prisoner.
The conquerors clambered up the bank over the remains of walls
shattered by a cannonade of ten days. Mackay heard his men
cursing and swearing as they stumbled among the rubbish. "My
lads," cried the stout old Puritan in the midst of the uproar,
"you are brave fellows; but do not swear. We have more reason to
thank God for the goodness which He has shown us this day than to