The Council of State were convinced that only General Cromwell could deliver victory in Ireland; and Cromwell used this to negotiate the best possible supply of men, money and material. From August 1649 to May 1650 Cromwell’s campaign brought the Confederacy close to defeat, and he visited two infamous atrocities on the towns of Drogheda and Wexford.

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Transcripts

Hello everyone and welcome back to the History of England episode ***

So we have arrived at the moment I have most not been waiting for as regards the English Revolution; we are going to talk about the Cromwellian conquest of Ireland. I have wondered at some length how to deal with a topic that has such a big, big place in Irish popular memory. I remember John Morrill relating how he has done many talks about Cromwell;  that in North American the response of his audiences to Cromwell was about 50/50 between positive and negative, in Europe essentially normally there’s an ‘Oliver who?’ response, but in Ireland it is 100% furiously negative, and indeed that the 50% in North American is probably largely those with Irish descent. If you don’t know why – well, you will soon, although it will takes a few episodes to unwind as we get to what is usually referred to the Cromwellian settlement of Ireland from 1653 to 1657 ish.

I might start with The Pretender, although he really didn’t have money in pocket, I speak of Charles of course, and who was in Breda in the low countries, sheltered by the sympathetic William of Orange. He was 19 years old now, and was surrounded, physically and virtually, by factions. These factions have traditionally been divided in to three groups. There was his Mum, HM, and a group of courtiers such as Henry Jermyn, who had been at her side all the way through this. They were called the Louvre group, and were consistently bullish. She favoured a deal with the Scots, all Prots are heretics, who cares the flavour, they’ve got an army let’s just get on with it. So that’s the Louvre group. Then there are the Old Royalists, the likes of Hyde, and Ralph Hopton; they were cautious. Yes they wanted Charles back on a throne, but not at the expense of the Ancient Constitution. Finally, were the Swordsmen. These were swashbucklers, they wanted to take up all and any opportunity, avanti bella, en avant. Into the breach, forward, charge, have atcha sort of thing. It will not surprise you to learn that this faction was led by Prince Rupert, usually from a boat.

That’s a scene setter for you, but the point is that whatever the conflicting advice thrown at him, Charles favoured Ireland. He had Montrose by his side, and even he advised Charles against the Scots Covenanters. Nasty lot. Nothing dashing about them at all, and could you imagine Argyll falling down in a swoon and writing poetry? No, Montrose favoured a dashing descent on Scotland led by yours truly, flowing locks flowing as free as the Saltire as he raised the clans in a super dashing way. Charles agreed. He found the idea of swearing to the Covenant most distasteful. Just like his Dad, Charles did not want to reign like the Doge of Venice. He wanted to be a real king. Still, the Scots commissioners beat a path to Charles door, afterall they had declared him King of Scotland. Now they did not like the presence of Montrose one little bit. Montrose as far as the Covenanters were concerned was a traitor and murder, Murderer of the Scottish nation, and part of their deal involved the dumping Montrose.

Now Charles was a canny lad. He wasn’t rude, he left the door ajar, but as far as he was concerned being waved into Edinburgh by an arch and devoted royalist looked far and away the best idea. So he confirmed Montrose as Lieutenant Governor of Scotland. And if Montrose should just happen to raise a stonking great army, and if Montrose should just raise the clans and stick it to the man aka Argyll, well, who could object to that? Apart from Argyll, possibly.

So, why then was Charles so keen on Ireland? After all, as you may remember, last time we were there, the royalist cause hardly looked like the Rolls Royce option. More like a 30 year old Nissan Cherry with a dodgy gearbox and a failed MOT certificate. That is an out of date joke. Nissans are very good these days, and made by Sunderland’s finest.

Anyway when we were last there, Cardinal Rinnucini, the clerical party and Owen Roe O’Neil had been in the ascendent; the Confederate association were in disarray, and the strategy pursued being to throw all the English out of Ireland, Ormonde, King and all. It all felt so hopeless for the king, that the Earl of Ormonde had handed Dublin over to the parliamentary representative Michael Jones, and left, went to Charles’ side in exile eventually. So that sounds as though there could be no flush so busted king-wise.

But 1648 had not gone well for Rinnucini and the Clerical party. They had failed to capture Dublin, and military defeat saw their star falling. Owen Roe O’Neill had struggled in Ulster, and he was the best commander, tied to Rinuccini. And then, one Lord Inchiquinn a successful if brutal parliamentarian commander had changed sides and joined the Confederacy. You might think that would be a good thing for the royalists, and it was; but Inchiquinn was a protestant royalist, just like the royalist Lieutenant General the Earl of Ormonde. So it was a bad thing for the clerical party.

So, the long and short, if there is such a thing in the mind-blowingly complicated world of 17^th century Irish politics, the long and short is that in January 1649, before Charles was totalled, at a glittering ceremony in Kilkenny, the Old English persuaded the Catholic Confederacy to finally sign a full peace agreement with Ormonde and the King.[1] This was a deal that had been discussed off and on since the cessation in 1646. Confederate Ireland was united. Hip Hip. The English parliamentarians were squished onto the east coast, much of Ireland ranged against them, Hip Hip and hooray.

Faced with the defeat of the Irish Clerical party, Cardinal Rinnucini lifted his legatine robes and took ship for lovely warm and safely catholic Italy. Hip and Hip again actually, because it meant his great captain, O’Neill, really had nowhere else to go but to support the Confederacy, and so everyone appeared to be singing from the same hymn sheet at last, which from an Irish point of view had to  be a good thing. And when the news of Charles I’s execution reached the appalled and horrified Irish, there was a rush of unity and fellow feeling, as Ormonde declared his son to be Charles II be king of Ireland. Ooh, and Scotland. Ooh and did I mention England? Well, then king of England too. Seems everyone wanted to tell the English who their king was. So you can see why Charles would look with a hopeful heart towards the emerald isle and call for his gaelic pipes. This is the story of what happened to those hopes.

Almost before Charles’ head had fallen with a squelch into the royal basket, the minds of the Commonwealth had turned to Ireland. The situation was parlous there, militarily speaking, so it was a priority. There was fear and hatred of the Catholic Irish, and there was a thirst for vengeance for the atrocities visited on the protestants of Ulster in 1641-2. An army and invasion was top of the to do list. And everybody’s thoughts turned to General Cromwell.

General Cromwell didn’t want to do it. He suspected there were those on the Commonwealth Council that wanted to see the back of him, with his fancy Agreement of the People talk, and Oliver said that the biggest danger was not Ireland, but internal political disunity. Which he’d like to stay and sort out according to his idiom. Plus he knew many in the army were against going to Ireland, because they thought it was a way of getting rid of them too, and not paying them. And while the Levellers were around, they were putting around the thought that slaughtering Irish people to take away their rights was a bad idea. But once the army mutiny was supressed, Cromwell decided that it must be so. And when they heard who was to lead them, most soldiers of the New Model felt their objections melt away. So, Cromwell set to work to prepare the way for the invasion of Ireland.

 

 

 

 

 

So, let us describe the stage upon which we will play. The Four regions of Ireland; top right, Ulster hithertofore fought over by the Scottish Presbyterians and O’Neil for the confederacy. Of course the Scots had been defeated when they invaded England and so we have a new English commander now, and it is my great pleasure to introduce you to General George Monck. He will be a VIP in our story for the next yay years so listen up. George Monck was the younger son of a Devon Gentleman, and in the process of making a living he became an army professional, fighting on the continent and then in Ireland as well as England, first for the king then parliament. Monck proved himself tough, reliable, loyal, professional. But the death of the king caused Monck massive problems in Ulster – many of his soldiers jumped ship and went to the Confederacy, so O’Neill ruled for the Confederates in Ulster, Monck was stuck on the coast.

Connacht was the top left, west coast of Ireland, centred on Galway and the province which had seen least of the war; Munster is the province in the south west quarter of Ireland, centred on Cork, and with the fair port of Kinsale. Where lived Prince Rupert and his tiny fleet, preying on English fishing and trying to keep Dublin isolated from English supplies. Finally we have Leinster, the heart of the Confederacy, South and East, engulfing Dublin and the English Pale, including the towns of Wexford, Drogheda and Kilkenny. Now in Leinster, Inchiquinn was the master, with the most powerful army of the Confederacy. Ok? I am sure we have had this geography lesson before, but North west to Souh west, Connacht, Ulster, Leinster, Munster.

So, in early 1649 on the face of it, the prospects for the Independent Ireland of the Confederate Association looked as good as they had ever done. And one thing was certain – only with unity could they hope to succeed against the resources of the English.

But the look under the bonnet of the gleaming Confederate Lamborghini Countach, and you would find an inline V12 held together with bits of sticking plaster and a fan belt composed of a stocking. Inchiquinn was widely disliked and mistrusted, given that he was a protestant and had largely destroyed Rinuccini’s hopes when commanding parliamentary forces at Knockanuss which had seen the death of MacColla. He’d been an enemy once, why not again?

Inchiquinn and other commanders had armies composed of Protestants and Catholics, and the protestants were very conflicted. Whose side were they on? Their Confederacy commanders struggled to keep  them on board and quite often failed – and they left to go home, or go and fight for the other side.

Worse, the Catholic clergy had initially refused to sign up to the treaty, and in fact Rinucinni had helpfully excommunicated those advocating the treaty before he left. Many Catholics deeply distrusted the Protestant Ormonde, and in his term Ormonde failed to really broaden the base of his immediate commanders from outside his own circle – though he did appoint some Catholics to senior military command. And finally, O’Neil had a terrible reputation for the lawlessness of his men, and the damage they’d wreaked in Ulster. The super summary is that unity in the Confederacy was always wafer thin, raising money, arms and men always a problem from war torn and ravaged Ireland after years of war.

None the less, Ormonde was in command, a political structure had been agreed and ratified, the Confederacy could confidently assert their legitimacy against anyone. But, they needed a victory to get everyone on board the new ship of state, and until any new forces arrived under Cromwell, they had a window, a brief numerical advantage; could they deliver a knock out blow?

It started well. Inchiquinn took Drogheda, and then forced Monck to flee to Milford Haven in Wales; where he met Cromwell, and a long partnership started. Ormonde then with an army of 11,000 decided this was the time to march on Dublin. Think of that? All of Ireland under confederate control, no safe place to land an English army. Even though Michael Jones had just been re-inforced with 2,000 men, still he had barely 6,000. It looked like a brilliant opportunity. On 2^nd August 1649 as Ormonde was advancing his position, Jones sallied out, and at Rathmines outflanked Ormonde’s advancing army a disaster ensued. A disaster for Ormonde. His army was decimated, he lost ammunition, guns and all as well as soldiers.

Rathmines set the tone for all of what followed, and the importance of Michael Jones’ victory cannot be underestimated. From then on the royalists were always on the defensive, forced to rely on sieges to try and wear Cromwell’s invasion down. Meanwhile Ormonde’s reputation and prestige, his ability to keep the Confederacy together had suffered heavily; criticisms re-surfaced, and many of his protestant soldiers deserted. Cromwell fully understood Rathmines’ significance. ‘An astonishing mercy’ he called it when he heard.

Cromwell was meticulous in his planning. He was in a great bargaining position as regards the Council of State; he clearly the only one who could do this and win the confidence of the soldiers, he was head and soldiers above any other commander. Plus yes, many on the Council of State would be delighted to have him out of the way. He used his position to get all the money and provisions he needed. Before he left he improved his chances by finding himself another well informed ally. This was Roger Boyle, Lord Broghill, the brother of Robert Boyle the great scientist. Broghill came from an old Anglo Irish family, had been a royalist there since 1641. Cromwell did not allow this history to get in the way; he knew his quality, and so offered him high command in Ireland. Just as with Monck, Cromwell had thereby recruited another highly effective commander, and another with whom he would become firm friends, and whose loyalty he could rely on.[2]

One more just as a curiosity. Remember Randall McDonnel the Marquis of Antrim who had intrigued with HM, and organised MaColla’s invasion of Scotland? Well he’d had a torrid time in the confederacy, and by the time of Cromwell’s arrival, he was exiled to Roe O’Neill’s camp. When Cromwell arrived, he would throw his lot in with the English; there are very few native Irish who do this, but it’s pretty sui generis of Antrim to do so. He got himself a pension and went to England in 1650 after doing his bit for the invasion.

Anyway, in August 1649 Cromwell, his Deputy Henry Ireton, and a new, well supplied and battle hardened army of 12,000 soldiers disembarked at Dublin. Their passage was uneventful, the more so because Admiral Robert Blake had bottled up Rupert’s little fleet inside Kinsale. Cromwell made two declarations in Dublin, which all contribute to the controversy; the first to a crowd of enthusiastic Dubliners that he would carry out the great work

Against the barbarous and bloodthirsty Irish.

Propagating the Gospel of Christ, and

Restoring that bleeding nation to its former happiness and tranquillity

Ok. The second declaration was that soldiers would not disturb civilians on pain of death, and that civilians would have

Free leave and liberty to live at home with their families and goods.

The Historian Michael O Siochru in his book God’s Executioner notes that money was a major issue here. Ormonde had very little, and Confederate troops were noted for plundering therefore, to get what they needed. Cromwell had plenty of money, and therefore parts of the local population played a key role in sustaining English armies because he could pay.

From Dublin, Cromwell headed north along the coast to the town of Drogheda. The garrison was commanded by Sir Arthur Aston, an English Catholic who had been Governor of Oxford before fighting in Ireland. Cromwell approached from 3^rd September, and on 10th when all artillery and dispositions were ready, summoned Aston to surrender with the customary warning that if he did not ’you will have no cause to blame me’. Although outnumbered 4 to 1, with low supplies and no hope of help from Ormonde who was 30 miles away with only 3,000 men, Aston decided to tough it out and sent a defiant answer.

The assault on 11^th September was hard; repulsed once, twice, until for a third assault Cromwell himself joined, and it is apparently in the heat of battle that he issued orders that all who were under arms in the town should be put to the sword.

When the assault succeeded, that is pretty much exactly what happens. There are reports of individual soldiers saving some, but what is not at dispute is that probably as many as 3,000 soldiers were butchered, including Aston, supposedly battered to death with his own wooden leg.

After the battle, Cromwell wrote an infamous letter to the Speaker back in England telling of the capture. Here we go, tighten your belts.

This is righteous judgement of God upon these barbarous wretches, who have imbued their hands in so much innocent blood

He continued that

It will tend to prevent the effusion of blood for the future, which are the satisfactory grounds to such actions, which otherwise cannot but work remorse and regret.

Now, obviously this, and the question of civilian deaths needs discussing, but let me do it all of a piece in a few moments. After the butchery of Drogheda, Cromwell returned to Dublin while other commanders took the towns of Dundalk, Carrickfergus and others northwards in Ulster. By 1^st October, Cromwell appeared in from of the town walls of Wexford, and summoned the commander to surrender.

The commander, one Sinnott, decided to play for time, as he was still getting supplies in, and after 10 days of this deception and to’ing and fro’ing, Cromwell started to bombard the walls and prepare for an assault. Panicked, Sinnott re-opened discussions and Cromwell sent an offer of quarter and freedom from plunder. But the terms never arrived.

Because the commander of the castle, as opposed to the town, decided to surrender on his own initiative to a local English captain. The New Model got into the castle, and turned the guns on the defenders on the town walls. The defenders then fled, the new Model stormed the town walls and there followed a massacre in the chaos, certainly of many of the soldiers maybe as many as 2000 of them. Though many also escaped, since a local town commander complains to Ormonde of all the wounded Irish soldiers flooding in from Wexford. Cromwell had been caught off guard and had issued no orders as the situation unfolded. Nor though did he make any effort try to stop the slaughter. He wrote again to the Speaker that

We intended better to this place than so great a ruin…yet God would not have it so…causing them to become prey to the soldiers who…made with their blood to answer the cruelties which they had exercised upon the lives of divers poor protestants.

Two of the strongest Irish Towns had fallen, and Ormonde had been able to do nothing to prevent it. We must discuss then these infamous massacres.

The massacres at Drogheda and Wexford have been the subject of rivers of debate and folklore, all the way across the spectrum from claims that every inhabitant was slaughtered in an act of genocide, to a brave local historian Tom Reilly who has written five books on the subject and Cromwell, claiming Cromwell is unfairly accused.

After all the evidence is sifted, actually there appears to be quite a lot that Historians now agree on, though I doubt this is what you’d get from the general public. The evidence of civilian deaths is all very difficult indeed. Most agree that in particular friars and priests were probably targeted by the men of the new Model at both cities And there are horrendous stories of being burned to death in places of God. There may have been occasions where soldiers were offered quarter and then killed in cold blood; one at least seems credible. It’s equally clear that the idea of wholesale slaughter of civilians is not true. O Siochru concludes that ‘a significant number of non combatants were killed’ and it seems impossible to believe that among the chaos and hatred, civilians were not caught up in these two brutal sacks.

Which brings us to Cromwell. His pronouncements show a few elements. The first and most hideous is the racial element, in the words ‘Barbarous wretches’. In this, the truth is worse than simply the impact on Cromwell’s reputation; because in it, he was reflecting national prejudices, by the English and indeed Scottish, an attitude we have seen since the Marian plantations and Elizabethan times at very least.

In both Cromwell clearly seems to be saying that this is vengeance for the blood spilled by the Irish in the 1641 rebellion. This is a bit odd; in Drogheda in particular he will have known that most of the soldiers were English, and the rest Irish Protestants; it seems then that this public letter was playing to a nationally held prejudice, to bolster the reputation at home of a precarious Commonwealth.

The other thing then is the very strong suggestion, again as O Siochru argues, that Cromwell regretted these deaths in his words, ‘which otherwise cannot but work remorse and regret’ and that he himself recognised a he had allowed a horror to be visited on the people, that and felt the need to justify them. He tries to justify it on practical grounds – the attempt to encourage other towns to surrender and therefore save needless deaths; he transfers blame to God’s providence – his words at Wexford in particular, that the confusion was due to God’s intervention.

Cromwell’s actions have been defended on the basis that the deaths of the garrisons were absolutely in line with the rules of war at the time, and that’s true. But the fact remains that these were out of proportion to anything Cromwell or anyone else perpetrated in England. Racial prejudice was a consistent part of the war in Ireland which increased the savagery since of the P:rotestant armies in particular, and is at play here. Revenge for the atrocities of 1641 was another, much multiplied in English and Scottish memory as we have heard. The confusion and the heat of the moment is another; at Drogheda at least Cromwell’s order was issued int eh thick of a batt;e he was personally involved in. The pressures of fighting at the end of a long supply line another. When all’s said and done, a terrible stain on his reputation.

Anyway, back to the campaign. The evidence that the atrocities at Drogheda and Wexford would encourage quick surrender is at best mixed. It probably worked at New Ross which now surrendered quickly on generous terms. And Cromwell growing success was encouraging desertions – 500 of the soldiers at New Ross immediately signed up for his army. Broghill was also proving his worth. Cork was his home town, and he negotiated its transfer without bloodshed, and raised 1,500 men for Cromwell’s army to boot. He then managed the surrender of a number of Munster towns, including Youghal and others. All of this was a direct slap around the chops for Inchiquinn; this was his hood where he was commanding the Confederate forces, and yet the fortresses surrendered without his ability to stop it. Now I appreciate that Churchill talked about magnanimity in victory, but I’m not sure Broghill read the memo; As Inchiquin’s retreated, Broghill moved ostentatiously into what had previously been his very own big house in Cork, to proclaim there was a new boss in town, which must have stung.

At Waterford though, Cromwell met resistance, and his effective strength was badly affected by death, plague, garrison duty and other releasing troops for campaigns; and so he abandoned the siege in December – the only siege where he was ever forced to do so. He took himself into Winter quarters, and campaigning was done for the year.

Early 1650 saw a war of words, with an announcement by a meeting of Catholic Bishops, who declared their full support for the royalist cause, and warned everyone that Cromwell’s aim was to eradicate the Catholic religion and the Irish people, in their entirety.

Cromwell was infuriated by this, and published a counter declaration saying that he had no intention whatsoever of so doing; that he had no quarrel with the ordinary Irish people, only with their clergy, whom he blamed as responsible for encouraging rebellion in 1641. He promised that English law and order would protect them from rapacious landlords, and that he’d protect their religious freedom.

It seems  unlikely many people bought this; though interestingly I understand that John Morrill in particular believes the evidence shows that Cromwell was not motivated by a desire to extirpate Catholicism; it was royalism and clericalism he came to fight. The trouble is this involved banning the celebration of mass; and he doesn’t seem to have accepted the reality that this would therefore deprive the Irish of the central rite of their religion to which they were almost universally devoted.

Despite all of that, by this stage Ormonde and the royalist cause were in deep trouble. There had been a glimmer of hope in October when O’Neill had agreed to bury the hatchet and join the cause; his soldiers had started to join Ormonde in Munster. But before long he was dead; and the loss of the Confederate’s best soldier was a big blow to their cause. All of these defeats, the steady attrition of towns, the steam roller that was the New Model Army sapped morale, and despite their declaration the Catholic Clergy once more made their lack of confidence known. Towns began to share their lack of faith in Ormonde’s leadership. They’d loved the independence they’d had to manage their affairs during the Confederacy; accepting a garrison meant accepting Ormonde’s control as well. So, some resisted giving themselves up to his governors. Rather bitterly and sarcastically, Ormonde wrote to a friend in Paris that Catholics were

Only with much ado withheld from sending commissioners to entreat Cromwell to make stables and hospitals of their churches

Cromwell was not long in winter quarters. By the start of February, he was back on the road again; his objective to isolate and then capture the two biggest towns in the south – Clonmel, and the capital of the Confederacy, Kilkenny. By this stage, January 1650, rumours were reaching him of a potential recall; The Commonwealth was hearing noises about talks between Charles and the Scots; they wanted Cromwell home, ready to take guard against yet another Scottish invasion.

So Cromwell pushed on. At Fethard he agreed generous terms for the town’s surrender, while a separate column under Henry Ireton did the same at Callan. Behind them, Inchiquinn with his remaining 2000 men raided and snapped their heels; but Inchiquinn was about to meet his Waterloo. Broghill had been given the task of defending the campaign against attack from the west, and in this was joined by a young, 22 year old  Colonel of the Horse, one Henry Cromwell, Oliver’s son. Henry seems to have impressed, described as decent, honest and hard working. Just the sort of man, it seems, who would be a great heir, in the unlikely event he had a father who was made Lord Protector of the Commonwealth. Much more decisive than his older brother, the thoroughly likeable but weak willed Richard.

Still, it would probably never happen anyway, so that is pure speculation. Broghill and Croimwellson caught Inchiquinn’s little army at Mallow, and annihilated it. And so the game had basically run its course it for Inchiquinn; his glory days were behind him; he fled to Connacht, and by the end of the year into exile.

More towns followed, until in March 1650, Cromwell was at Kilkenny. Ormonde had fled westwards to safer territory and it was left to the governor Walter Butler with 300 men to hold off Croimqwell and his 4000 besiegers. That would seem like a perfect excuse to accept surrender terms but for three days they fought on, inflicting 200 casualties, until after losing some key strongpoints Butler saw that it was hopeless, and in the birthplace of an independent Ireland he offered his surrender. Again Cromwell’s terms were generous – the men all marched out, and the town was spared from any violence.

By now, new had reached Cromwell that he had been officially recalled. But if he could take one more remaining city, he could leave Leinster secured, with really only Limerick and Galway holding out on the west coast of Ireland. That city was Clonmel.

Clonmel was a formidable proposition, with 25 foot high walls, and approachable only from the north. It’s governor was Hugh O’Neil, and he had 1500 Ulster warriors at his side, and was determined that this should be where the Cromwell juggernaut finally hit the buffers. He prepared for the fight thoroughly, and begged Ormonde for re-inforcements or relief. Ormonde failed in this test; he’s been accused of concentrating all his forces at Limerick, the objection being that Limerick was not yet even under threat. But to be fair to him, he had very few men left anyway, and Cromwell knew what he was doing and had taken action to prevent re-inforcements making it to Clonmel, using Borghill and his divisions as a screen to foil any attempt to relieve it. And when an attempt was made, it was heavily defeated. O’Neil and Clonmel stood alone.

O’Neil makes a very good fist of hit, a tricky little blighter, and his defence is a bit of a classic. From 27^th April, he frustrated Cromwell’s preparations for assault, with constant sallies to destroy trenches and redoubts as the English inched forward to bring their artillery within range of the walls. While delaying the advance, O’Neill was using the time well, building up banks of earth behind the walls to make them as firm as possible against the crash of cannon balls.

So it was that when Cromwell’s artillery finally took up fire on 8^th May, they made little impact. For days they persisted, until eventually a breach was made. The assault was ordered, and into the break poured the New Model. To find death. As they poured, they found themselves trapped in a carefully prepared killing zone. Behind the breach were a mass of barricades, with delivering a withering fire to the exposed soldiers. And yet they could not stop unaware of what was happening behind the breach, more and more men were ordered into the attack; As the men pushed in from behind, and those at the front could not retreat. And so died. By the end, after three assaults, about 2000 men lay dead. Still Cromwell prepared to attack the following morning.

Inside, O’Neil’s position was hopeless. So the mayor of Clonmel started to negotiate for terms for surrender, and the next day the New Model marched into town. Cromwell expected to find his adversary Hugh O’Neill there ready to hand over his sword in surrender. But he was nowhere to be found. He had gone. Sorry not at home. He and the garrison had hopped over the southern wall and away to fight another day. Cromwell was furious; Clonmel had cost him more lives than any other siege. One of his parliamentary contemporaries wrote of Clonmel as

The stoutest enemy that ever was found by our army in Ireland…and never so hot a storm…neither in England or Ireland

Might have been a suitable time for Cromwell to have flipped his lid; but to give him his due he did not. The terms of the agreement made with the major were honoured despite the deception, and no violence done to the town.

That was it; Oliver Cromwell could ignore the calls of parliament no longer. The war in Ireland was not yet finished, nor the death and destruction. Ireland was still rich with armed and leaderless soldiers, while the towns of Limerick, Waterford, Galway still held  out. Though the Confederate cause had received a terrible blow, resistance was far from over, and the war was far from finished But it would not be Cromwell’s task to finish it; for that, he chose his son in law Henry Ireton as the new commander. And he left for home.

Where, before long, he would have another war to fight. Because in Scotland, Charles had arrived to make himself king of Britain.

[1] O Siocheru, M: ‘God’s Executioner’, p52

[2] Woolrych, A: Britain in Revolution’, p469