His lordship’s letters to the Duke of Portland and others, from Dublin, evince far more apprehension at the violence, cruelty, and insubordination of the army under his command, than at the rebels who were up in arms against him. His words are:--“The violence of our friends, and their folly in endeavouring to make this a religious war, added to the ferocity of our troops, who delight in murder, most powerfully counteract all plans of conciliation.” Nevertheless his judgment, firmness, and temper soon prevailed; by midsummer the insurrection was suppressed with far less bloodshed than was pleasing to the supporters of the government; and Lord Cornwallis was endeavouring to concentrate his attention on the reorganization of the military mob, which then, under the name of soldiers, garrisoned Ireland against foreign and domestic foes, when the invader actually arrived.[10] On the 22nd of August, three frigates under English colours anchored in Killala Bay, co. Mayo, carrying a force of about 1,100 French troops, commanded by General Humbert. They were the vanguard of a larger force under General Hardy, which was to have sailed at the same time, but which had been detained by unforeseen difficulties at Brest. There being no sufficient force to oppose them, the French easily took possession of Killala, and established their head-quarters in the palace of the bishop, Dr. Stock, who has left a most interesting journal of what occurred whilst the French occupied the town. Humbert had brought with him a large supply of arms, ammunition, and uniforms, to be distributed amongst the United Irishmen, who he had been led to suppose would instantly rally round his standard. But he soon discovered that he had been deceived, that he had landed in the wrong place, and that he had arrived too late. The peasantry of Mayo, a simple and uncivilized race, ignorant of the use of fire-arms, crowded round the invaders as long as they had anything to give, and as long as there was no enemy to fight; but, at the first shot, they invariably ran away. Besides, the neck of the rebellion had been already dislocated by the judicious vigour of Cornwallis. Had the landing been effected earlier, and farther north, the result might have been different; as it was, the French general found that he had a losing game to play--and most manfully and creditably did he play it. Professing to wage no war against the Irish, he assured the bishop that neither pillage nor violence should be permitted, and that his troops should only take what was absolutely necessary for their subsistence; and on these points, the bishop tells us, the Frenchman “religiously kept his word;” not only controlling his own soldiers, but actually protecting the bishop and his little Protestant flock from the rapacity of the Irish rebels who for a time joined the invaders.