They shouted to O'Connell to surrender and disperse the people.
Too late.
The soldiers formed into open formation and marched on the mob.
Maddened and reeling, with no order, no discipline, with only blind fury and the rushing, pulsing blood--that has won many a battle for England against a common foe--the men of Ireland hurled themselves upon the soldiers.

They threw their missiles: they struck them with their gnarled sticks: they beat them with their clenched fists.
The order to "Fire" was given as the soldiers fell back from the onslaught.
When the smoke cleared away the ranks of the mob were broken.

Some lay dead on the turf; some groaned in the agony of shattered limbs.

The women threw themselves moaning on the bodies.

Silence fell like a pall over the mob.