My Lords of Strogue Volume Ii Part 19

These myriad bullets which he held in his hand had pa.s.sed through his coat' ('See, boys, the holes!'), 'but could not hurt his skin. 'Twas the Holy Mother who watched over him and them. He would lead the van.

Sure they would follow their priest--their pastor--their friend--their gineral!'

With howls of ecstatic and repentant fervour they cried out that they would. He had always led them to victory, their doughty priest! One more, two more successes, and Dublin would be theirs; then the whole country would unite; the Sa.s.senagh would be driven into the sea; the object of the crusade would be accomplished--and through them, miserable sinners though they were.

They marched against Arklow on the 9th, and were repulsed thence with awful slaughter. The Royalists lost sixty men, the rebels left a thousand corpses stark upon the gra.s.s--amongst them, Murphy the invulnerable. With dismay and despair they beheld his body roasted by the enlightened foe; in the gloaming they saw devils, in the guise of yeomen, dancing round the steaming corpse; fiends cleaning their boots with the fat that dripped from it. With howls of superst.i.tious horror now they scurried away in the darkness, over field and hedge and fosse, through d.y.k.e and brake, in an agony of desperate fear quite different from a battle-panic, and arrived at length at the rendezvous like madmen, panting, incoherent, to tell their fearsome story.

Orders were issued to the Royalist forces to hold themselves in readiness. They had been ready for months past. A grand combined attack was to be made upon the rebel base, at Vinegar Hill, on the 21st of June. Lock, stock, and barrel, these insolent varlets were to be stamped out of existence, without parleying, as a warning to all traitors. Eight generals (no less) and twenty thousand soldiers were to take part in this glorious field-day. Why had this force lain idle hitherto? Why were driblets despatched to contend with myriads? It was now the 10th. With a cunning steadiness of purpose, almost too wicked even for humankind, ten days were permitted to elapse before the final blow was struck. Ten days of inaction--ten days of rumination over the awful future--ten days wherein to become utterly disorganised, and to commit such deeds as a carefully-fanned flame of acc.u.mulated hate and the hopelessness of unutterable despair should dictate. The insurgents saw themselves on the eve of destruction, taught by a bitter past that there was no hope or chance of mercy. Flung out of the pale of humanity, they were to be hunted down like vermin--like vermin then they would fly at the throats of the hunters, and do all the harm they could ere they received the _coup de grace_. A scene of horror commenced at Wexford, and endured during these ten days, over which we will draw a veil. Those who know aught of this spasm in Irish history will have been already sickened by the deeds on Wexford Bridge, and will be glad to be spared a new recital of them. Suffice it, that if General Lake had started immediately after the repulse of Arklow, these deeds would never have been committed. The desperate wretches would never have entered on their carnival of carnage; would never have been guilty of the crimes which, like Scullabogue and other nightmares, must all lie at good Farmer George's door.

The eight generals and the twenty thousand soldiers set off at last.

Lake's plan was committed to paper in the clearest black and white. A simultaneous attack was to be made on Wexford and Enniscorthy, while the main body directed its attention to Vinegar Hill, which was to be carefully surrounded in order that no vermin might escape. If this delectable plan had been successfully carried out, the rebels would have been netted and slaughtered by thousands; but that Providence which had slept so long, which had been so blind to human wrongs, so deaf to human prayers, awoke at last and prevented this wicked thing.

At the critical moment two brigades were missing, the circle was incomplete, and, after a feeble cannonade, the rebel ma.s.ses retired through the gap left by the missing links, to spread terror in the streets of Enniscorthy. Lake was furious. All that ingenuity could suggest had been brought to bear upon his plan. It is provoking when accident upsets our craftiest calculations. He had the mortification to perceive that he had not crushed the rebellion so completely as he had wished--by driving all the malcontents off the face of the earth.

He abused his generals, but they showed that the fault was none of theirs; a higher power had checked their movements. Moore had met accidentally with a small detachment of rebels, who engaged him at Foulke's Mill; Needham, with a vivid remembrance of the disaster at Tubberneering, had moved through gorges with caution, delayed now and again by the errors of disaffected guides, the sulky inaction of impressed drivers. Lake might swear, but these were the facts. It was a pity; for, with the exception of the two missing links, the Royalist columns behaved admirably. They arrived at their posts in the nick of time. The rebels, in spite of their strong position, did little damage, for they aimed, as usual, too high. The priestly warriors acted with undaunted bravery, exhorting their men, horsewhipping them, even pistolling some who were endeavouring to seek safety in flight.

Father Roche was everywhere at once, clad in his vestments, with a bra.s.s helmet on his head. Father Clinch, of Enniscorthy, a man of huge stature, was conspicuous upon the hill; his broad cross-belts and large white horse were constantly looming through the smoke; his hat, with a crucifix stuck in it, was visible in six places at a time.

But no amount of desperate personal valour could save the doomed crowds. They fell back on Enniscorthy; sued there for mercy, in vain.

They promised, as the men of Wexford had just done, to lay down their arms and return to their allegiance. Lake retorted by an offer of terms which were impossible of acceptance, and continued his b.l.o.o.d.y work. Every foot of Enniscorthy was stubbornly disputed, every yard was fiercely contested. The bridge was cleared at last. The jostling, shrieking mob spread itself upon the plain; their bodies lay heaped about the fields.

So the eight generals were crowned with laurels. The entire struggle had lasted a month, which might have been put down in two days. The enemy was finished off at a single blow--at last--a worthy enemy! An honourable triumph! Disciplined forces had fought successfully against a rabble so besotted as to believe that a blessed bit of paper round the neck would make them bullet-proof; so ignorant as to run after falling sh.e.l.ls and pick them up, wondering, as they did so, what the strange things were that 'spat at them.'

When Scotland chose to rise, her misguided antics were repressed at once. Her leaders met the fate which they had courted, and there was an end of the matter. With Ireland it was otherwise. The freaks of her unstable nature were coldly calculated on; gins were set for her sliding feet; she fell into a trap, and grievous was her punishment.

When the Americans rose against British misrule, their commanders were always treated with military courtesy. In Ireland masters and men were strung up side by side, or shot down, without a 'by your leave,' like dogs. Till the horror of a war of cla.s.ses was intensified by the grafting on it of religious fanaticism, the opinions of the malcontents were of the broadest kind. All they demanded was social equality and freedom of conscience. Their demands were met by blows.

Innocent and harmless men were lacerated by petty tyranny and wanton ill-usage, till they could endure no more. Then prudence was thrown to the winds. It was like the herd of maddened swine rushing headlong down a precipice into the gulf.

As far as concerns the 'Hurry,' the example of ma.s.sacre was set in the first instance by the 'Party of Order.' The rebels tried sometimes to proselytise; the Royalists were content to murder. The Royalists were never anything but cruel. The rebels hovered strangely 'twixt lenity and cruelty, according to the humour of the moment. With the supposed advantage of a little education, the squireens out-heroded the conduct of those who were quite ignorant; whereby we may gather that a little knowledge is as fatal as a little of anything else; for their sc.r.a.ps of education, instead of tempering their native savagery, merely served to instil into their warped minds an idea of superiority and dominion.

So far as the Croppies were concerned, the rebellion ended with the clever feat of General Lake. The few who escaped his vengeance spread themselves over the country in predatory bands. Some sought refuge in the Wicklow hills; some perished miserably as banditti; few ever returned to their homes. It was not death so much that the Irish peasant feared. His life was wretched. He had been brought up to consider that three kinds of death were natural--first, in his bed; secondly, by hanging at a.s.size time; thirdly, of collapse when the potato crop went wrong. He could face death. _It was torture that he dreaded_--the pitch-caps, the picketings, the roastings alive, the lash. These it was that made a savage and a coward of him.

So far as the executive was concerned, the rebellion was by no means over. Gordon, a Protestant clergyman and reliable witness, tells us that 'more than fell in battle in Wexford were slain afterwards in cold blood.' Those who would not surrender were hunted down; those who did were strung up without a form of trial. Vinegar Hill became _elastic_ through the numberless victims who had found rest and a merciful oblivion beneath its sod.

So soon as ma.s.sacre, in garb of war, had done her work, judicial murder commenced on a more extended scale. When the appet.i.te of Ate was sated in the country, she moved with the Eumenides--faithful and obedient maids of honour--to the capital, for change of air and scene.

END OF VOL. II.