The army then proceeded north to Dundalk, and bitter was the disappointment of the troops when, on arriving there, they found that Schomberg, instead of advancing to give battle, had shut himself up in the intrenchments he had formed, and could not be induced to sally out.

In vain King James, who accompanied his army, formed it up in order of battle within sight of the invaders’ lines.  Schomberg was not to be tempted out, and, as the position appeared to be too strong to be attacked, the Irish were forced to endeavour to reduce it by the slow process of starvation.  The English army was soon reduced to pitiable straits—­not from hunger, for they were able to obtain food from the ships, but from disease.  The situation of the camp was low and unhealthy.  Fever broke out, and swept away vast numbers of the men.

The Dutch and Enniskilleners suffered comparatively little—­both were accustomed to a damp climate.  But of the English troops, nearly eight thousand died in the two months that the blockade lasted.  Had James maintained his position, the whole of the army of Schomberg must have perished; but, most unfortunately for his cause, he insisted on personally conducting operations, and when complete success was in his grasp he marched his army away, in the middle of November, to winter quarters; thereby allowing Schomberg to move, with the eight thousand men who remained to him, from the pest-stricken camp to healthier quarters.

The disgust, of those of James’s officers who understood anything of war, at this termination of the campaign was extreme.  The men, indeed, were eager to return to their homes, but would gladly have attempted an assault on the English camp before doing so; and, as the defenders were reduced to half their original strength, while most of the survivors were weakened by disease, the attack would probably have been successful.  James himself was several times on the point of ordering an attack, but his own vacillation of character was heightened by the conflicting counsels of his generals, who seemed more bent on thwarting each other than on gaining the cause for which they fought.

The cavalry were not idle, while the blockade of Schomberg’s camp continued, frequently making excursions over the country to bring in cattle for the army; for the villagers had, for the most part, deserted their homes, and herds of cattle were grazing without masters.  One day, Captain Davenant’s troop had ridden some thirty miles out of camp, and had halted for the night in a village.  In the morning, they broke up into small parties and scattered round the country.  Walter, with fifteen of the troopers, had collected some cattle and stopped for an hour, to feed and rest the horses, in a deserted village.  He took the precaution to place two or three men on sentry round it.

The men were sitting on the doorsteps, eating the food they had brought with them, when one of the outposts dashed in at full gallop, shouting that the enemy were upon them; but his warning came too late, for, close behind him, came a body of wild-looking horsemen, shouting and yelling.  There was a cry of “The Enniskilleners!” and the men ran to their horses.