Before you read, I'd like to inform you that this story is historically accurate in it's outcome and the way the attacks happened (more or less on that one). My main source, besides history lessons in school, is here. O'Neill is Hugh O'Neill, Earl of Tyrone at the time, and O'Donnell is Red Hugh O'Donnell. Del Aguila was the commander of a small army the Spanish sent to aid the two above mentioned in their fight for freedom from English rule. And so, without further ado, i give you...........

The Battle of Kinsale
“………….And in the future they will say of you ‘Some of them brilliant, all of them willing to die for Ireland, some of them handsome, all of them charming and ours’”. We had cheered when he finished that speech, all of us full of pride and ready to go send the English back home with their tails between there legs.
It had all started in October, when the damn fool Spanish that were sent to “aid us” went and landed at Kinsale, the opposite end of the bloody country to us, and got themselves surrounded and besieged by none other than Lord Mountjoy and his 7,000 men. Then we got word near the end of November that there were no less than 12,000 of the English dogs down there.
O’Neill and O’Donnell had felt that a march down there to relieve the Spanish would be nothing short of suicidal, and so decided instead to draw Mountjoy away by attacking the Pale. We smashed through the ring of forts around Ulster, and then our 4,000 strong army slaughtered and burned our way through the Pale. But it was to no avail, the English forces didn’t budge.
It was then O’Neill decided to have us march down, in the dead of winter, no less, and break the siege by main force. It was a long, miserable slog through hundreds of miles of snow and mud, and icy cold wind and rain. The English sent an army to block us, but we avoided it and arrived at Kinsale in the first weeks of December, now an army 6,500 strong. Another Spanish force joined us from Castlehaven, 700 of them, and we set about besieging the besiegers.
After a few weeks, the English were in dire straits. Thousands of them had deserted, or were unable to fight., because they had almost no food left. It wasn’t much better for us or the Spanish. We had rushed down here with only what we could carry on our backs, so food was running low, and sleeping night after night in soaking ditches, and sitting around day after day in freezing cold rain had taken its toll. Men were hungry and ill, and morale was low. The Spanish, who had been under siege for about three months now, were practically out of food, and had lost many men in sorties to destroy English guns and supplies.
Word around the camp said the Spanish commander, del Aguila, was pestering O’Neill to break the siege and attack, and his men would sally forth from the town at the same time. So it was that sometime early in the morning of Christmas Eve, 1601 found us roughly three quarters of a mile from the English camp.
The first sign of the English we saw was a squadron of cavalry, who were soon joined by some infantry. Within a few more minutes, another two regiments, some 1,000 men, came up to support them. We retreated back over a ford, and waited. There wasn’t a sound from the town. Suddenly a squadron of foot and some horse came charging towards us, and we fell back across another stream and a bog to some firm ground. Still nothing from the town.
Soon another two regiments joined the forces arrayed against us. Soon afterwards, the whole four regiments attacked us, some 3,000 men, about half the remaining English troops. The rest must have stayed back to defend against a Spanish breakout, yet still there was no sign of a Spanish attack.
When the English came in range, we opened fire on them. Men and horses fell, but still they came, the injured trampled under foot and hoof. We kept firing, and suddenly the fell back. A ragged cheer arose among our ranks. We had beaten them back! But the cheers were soon stifled, as the English reformed their ranks and charged again, this time riflemen attacking.
We were pushed back, and the other English foot and horse were able to attack as well. We took the charge, and somehow, not only did our lines hold, but we drove them back! There was no time for celebration though, because it was then that another force of English cavalry struck from the rear. The men back there broke and ran. The rest of us held, but then another attack came from another angle.
Still no aid from the town. We looked on in shock as all but a few of our men broke ranks and fled in utter rout. The Spanish who had joined us at Castlehaven held firm, and the English cut them to pieces. The rest of us held fast, knowing what was coming, but still desperately hoping the Spanish in the town would come to our aid.
The English charged, and the dream ended. As I lay here, my vision fading as my life’s blood flows out from my wounds, I can but wonder, why had the Spanish not attacked? And what was to become of Ireland now, with O’Neill’s forces utterly crushed? But I do know that today, Christmas Eve 1601, will be one of the blackest days in Irish history……..

Aye Wolfie.....that was impressing, and very interesting to learn about events in irish history in such a thrilling way....Oh I wish someone could read it to me..someone with an irish accent..I once knew an irishman irl.....and I just loved to hear him speak.

I really appreciate this story and hope you will post more stories like this one!

Very Nice LoneWolf. Cool to learn of history this isn't all said.