Gorey Camp, 28th of June, 1798.

My Dr. Friend,

A deliverance from hostilities and severe fatigue these two days past affords me an opportunity to address you. In my two last letters to Dublin, I gave a particular account of those facts to which I was an eye-witness—You shall now have those which have since occured.

The 13th Inst. we received orders to move forward from Arklow, and in the evening arrived at Gorey—but oh! what a strange reverse! The town in the absence of the Army was plundered, and almost totally destroyed by the Rebels; even the Church did not escape their sacrilegious fury!—they demolished the windows, dragged down the pulpit, and tore to pieces many of the pews; but what is still more shocking to relate, at which your soul must recoil, stained it with the blood of two Protestants, whom they immolated inside—they burned the two elegant seats belonging to the Ram family here.

The Rebels upon being apprised of our approach, broke up their Camp, and precipitately retreated to Vinegar-Hill—We next morning pursued and killed several of them on the way. In the evening we pitched our Tents in a small village called Houlett, within seven miles of Wexford, with an intention of remaining there for the night; but perceiving their pickets on an adjacent hill that commanded our Camp, at ten o'clock we struck our Tents, marched by a circuitous route, and in the morning at dawn of day we found ourselves on the off-side of their daring position.

From their great numbers and strong bulwarks they concluded they were impregnable. It is agreed they had that day on Vinegar-hill 30,000! We reconnoitred for some time, and distinctly observed them to draw up in solid lines. The order of Battle was to commence, by the command of Gen.Lake, at 9o'clock. His Army took one side of the Hill to bombard it, the Light Brigade, under Col.Campbell took another—other Commanders were fixed in like manner. Our Brigade, consisting of the Armagh, Cavan, Durham, Antrim, and part of the Londonderry, Dunbarton, Tyrone and Suffolk—in all about 3000 brave Troops had to march four miles; it being appointed that we should flank them in another quarter.

I shall give you a view of their situation—Vinegar-hill is very steep, rising in the form of a cone: at the but of it are two other hills, with quicksets and other ditches across them—these were lined with their musketry men:—a river ran at the bottom of both, and adjacent was a small wood. At the bottom of Vinegar-hill was the once beautiful, but now ruined town of Enniscorthy—on the top of the great hill was the but of an old windmill, on which they had placed their green flag of defiance—in a word, the position of the Rebels was one of the strongest I ever saw. The Rebels did not wait the time appointed, but commenced cannonading at seven o'clock. They could not tell what to make of the bombs, and said "they spit fire at us"—indeed they answered they desired end, by the numbers they destroyed upon their bursting.

The Light Brigade, assisted by the Cavalry gained one of the lesser hills, planted their Cannon and played briskly on them: in a short time we possessed ourselves of both—the Rebels made to the top of Vinegar-hill with all possible speed—the Soldiers pursued hard after them, and beat them off it. In a little time the green flag became a prey to the Royal Band, who triumphed in its fall—it was an arduous attempt, but we succeeded in the end. The Rebel commanders deserted their men when they found the day proved unfavourable to their interests and fled towards Wexford, leaving the deluded wretches to be cut in pieces. The engagement lasted two hours and an half—the Soldiers merited the cloth they wore, and gloried in the name of WILLIAM. Our Brigade remained all night in the demesne of Harvey Hay, one of the Rebel Chiefs: next day we returned to Houlet again, where we encamped for two days. The scouting parties killed more after the different engagements than what fell in Battle—many of their Commanders, were taken and hanged. We have suffered much from lying on the roads and ditches rolled in our blankets, I have almost lost my hearing, but am content when the good old cause triumphs.

P. S. At Vinegar-hill we killed men of 70 Years old—we rescued three Officers of the Antrim Militia, and twelve Privates of the same regiment: yesterday we hanged two of them for endeavouring to vote away the lives of two of the above Officers and Soldiers when prisoners.

Yours truly,

W. H. G.

The following letter was written by a sufferer in the Wexford Rebellion, while in possession of the Rebels—it fully corroborates the truth of the atrocities stated in the Narrative by Charles Jackson, printed, and now selling by the Publisher hereof.—price 6dh.