The person who had the management of the depot mixed, by accident, the slow matches that was prepared, with what was not, and all our labour went for nothing. The fuzes for the grenades he had also laid by where he forgot them, and could not find them in the crowd. The cramp irons could not be got in time from the smiths, to whom we could not communicate the necessity of despatch; and the scaling ladders were not finished (but one.) Money came in at five o’clock, and the trusty men of the depot, who alone knew the town, were obliged to be sent out to buy up blunderbusses, for the people refused to act without some. To change the day was impossible, for I expected the counties to act, and feared to lose the advantage of surprise. The Kildare men were coming in for three days; and after that it was impossible to draw back. Had I another week; had I one thousand pounds; had I one thousand men, I would have feared nothing. There was redundancy enough in any one part to have made up, if complete, for deficiency in the rest; but there was failure in all—plan, preparation, and men. I would have given it the respectability of insurrection, but I did not uselessly wish to spill blood: I gave no signal for the rest, and they all escaped. I arrived time enough in the country to prevent that part of it which had already gone out with one of my men, to disarm the neighbourhood from proceeding. I found that by a mistake of the messenger, Wicklow would not rise that night—I sent off to prevent it from doing so the next, as it intended. It offered to rise even after the defeat, if I wished it, but I refused. Had it risen, Wexford would have done the same. It began to assemble, but its leader kept it back till he knew the fate of Dublin. In the state Kildare was in, it would have done the same. I was repeatedly solicited by some of those who were with me to do so, but I constantly refused. The more remote counties did not rise, for want of money to send them the signal agreed on.