he had, by repeated representations and solicitations, obtained unrestricted military command, was St. Ruth himself. Unhappily for Ireland, he slighted Tyrconnel, who was a very proud man, and did not get along smoothly with Sarsfield, whose sage advice, had he taken it, would have saved him from a fatal disaster. Baron De Ginkel, commander-in-chief for William, marched with an army computed at 19,000 men from Dublin to open the campaign against the Irish on the line of the Shannon, on May 30, 1691. On June 7, he reached the fort of Ballymore, held by a small Irish force under Lieutenant-Colonel Ulick Burke, and summoned it to surrender. Burke answered defiantly, and Ginkel immediately opened upon his works. A detached post, held by a sergeant and a few men, was defended desperately and caused the Williamites serious loss. It was finally captured, and De Ginkel, with inexcusable cruelty, hanged the brave sergeant, for doing his duty, as O’Callaghan says, on the shallow pretext that he had defended an untenable position. Colonel Burke, nothing daunted, continued his defence of Ballymore, although Ginkel threatened him with the unfortunate sergeant’s fate. The fire of eighteen well-served pieces of heavy artillery speedily reduced the fort to a ruin. The Irish engineer officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Burton, was killed, and many men had also fallen. Burke hung out a flag of truce and demanded the honors of war if he were to surrender the place. Ginkel refused and called for immediate submission. The utmost time he would grant was two hours, and he agreed to allow the women and children to depart within that period. Once he proceeded to storm the position, he said, the garrison need expect no quarter. Colonel Burke declined to be intimidated and the work of destruction began anew—the women and children still remaining in the beleaguered fort. The latter was situated near the town of the same name, in the County Westmeath, on a peninsula which jutted into a small loch, or lake, and was too far from support to make a successful defence. It stood about midway between Mullingar and Athlone on the road from Dublin. Finally, Ginkel managed to assail it on the water front, breaches were made, and further resistance was useless. Therefore, Governor Burke finally surrendered. He and his command were made prisoners of war, and, in the sinister words of Story, the four hundred women and children, destitute of food, shelter, and protection, were “set at liberty.” What subsequently became of them is not stated. Colonel Burke was exchanged and fell in battle, at Aughrim, soon afterward. Seven days were occupied by De Ginkel in again putting Ballymore into a state of defence. He then resumed his march on Athlone, and, on June 18, was joined at Ballyburn Pass by the Duke of Wurtemburg and Count Nassau, at the head of 7,000 foreign mercenaries, and these, according to O’Callaghan, the most painstaking