UNRULY TIMES IN IRELAND
Affairs in Ireland have always been a source of wonderment to me. Ever
since the days I spent there, right through to the present time, the
doings--at one time or another--of some of the inhabitants of Ireland
have puzzled most people. All the talent of all the Prime Ministers and
Members of Parliament, within these forty years, has been unable to
ensure for Ireland such political and economic conditions as would have
made it the happy country which it ought to be.
When I was there in 1877-1878 the times were full of trouble, and I
recall several episodes which show the temper of the people at that day.
Some four miles from Limerick is a place called "Woodcock Hill," where
the rifle ranges, for the instruction in musketry of the troops quartered
there, were situated. Close to the range was a small Catholic chapel,
standing practically by itself. An infantry regiment was quartered in
Limerick at the time. It was an English regiment; its depot, from which
the recruits fed it, was somewhere in the North of England, and the
number of Catholic soldiers in its ranks was very small in proportion.
One Sunday morning the priest attending the little chapel at "Woodcock
Hill" found that somebody had broken into the church and stolen some of
the altar fittings and--worse from the Catholic point of view--had taken
the chalice used at Mass. This, of course, was nothing less than
sacrilege in the eyes of the devout Catholic Irishmen.
Rumours soon began to circulate that, on the previous Saturday evening,
after some rifle-shooting had taken place, two red-coats had been seen in
the vicinity of the chapel. These rumours were not long in being spread
throughout the city, and as the regiment was looked upon as being
anti-Catholic, reports went about to the effect that the sacrilege had
been carried out not so much for the sake of the value of the stolen
articles, but purely out of hatred for the Catholics and for the purpose
of desecrating the holy place. The consequences of these rumours soon
became apparent. Soldiers, returning home late at night, were set upon
and hammered in the by-streets. As a result, instead of going about in
ones and twos, they would congregate in bigger groups and took every
opportunity of retaliating on the civilians.
On a quiet Sunday morning, a glorious day, at about eleven o'clock,
red-coats in small groups rapidly began to arrive at the old Castle. I
had been out riding and was returning to my quarters about twelve
o'clock, and I found that there were not less than somewhere between 150
and 200 soldiers within the barrack gates. It had been the custom for
members of other corps to come into the canteen at the "Castle" for a
glass of beer or two, after their dismissal from church parade. But for
such a number to get together was more than unusual.
In the absence of the major, my commanding officer, the responsibility of
dealing with the case fell on me. I determined to send my groom with a
message to the officer commanding the regiment at their barracks, which
were at the other end of the main street in the town, to inform him of
what was going on, and then to order the men off in small groups from the
"Castle." But there was no time, for hardly had I finished writing my
message than the whole lot of red-coats left the barracks together and
proceeded towards George Street. They had their waistbelts on but
fortunately did not carry any side-arms. Still, the good old infantry
belts, with their heavy brass buckles, were quite a formidable weapon to
use about in a crowd which was unarmed. I jumped on my horse and, riding
by side streets, reached the police station, which was in the middle of
the town, close to the main street, to inform the police of what was
taking place. However, when I got there, it had become evident to the
police that trouble was coming, for large numbers of civilians were
congregating and showing considerable excitement in the main street and
moving down towards the cathedral from which direction the red-coats were
coming.
Before any steps could be taken by the police the crowd of civilians and
the red-coats met. For some little time the red-coats made their way
through the crowd, slashing with their belts. Some stones began to fly,
heavy sticks were being used, and gradually the red-coats were separated
and were getting quite the worst of the bargain.
The news of the disturbance had reached the barracks shortly after the
two factions had met, and such of the soldiers as were at that time
within the barrack walls were ordered to parade under arms, with a view
of marching down the street to restore order. However, by the time they
were ready to march out there were but few red-coats left in the streets.
They had been dispersed by the crowd and had sought safety wherever they
could. They were collected later on and marched up to their barracks by
police and military escorts, quiet was once again restored that Sunday
afternoon, and the remains of the fight collected in the shape of lost
belts, broken shillelaghs, road metal and smashed glass, while a good
many broken heads and bruised limbs received attention.
The sequel was this. The regiment was confined to barracks until further
orders. Two nights afterwards, in the early hours of the morning, it
marched quietly along to the railway station. A troop train awaited its
arrival, while at another platform more troop trains landed another
regiment which, in equal silence, marched off to its new quarters. So
ended this episode, for as soon as, on the next day, the townspeople
became aware that the offenders, as they considered them, had gone, they
lost all resentment and were quite ready to make friends and to welcome
their successors, who soon were enjoying quite a time of popularity. We
soldiers always looked forward to election time with considerable
anxiety. We were generally ordered to be ready, in case our assistance
was wanted in aid of the police, and we knew that long before we should
be called on to use our rifles or even our swords brick-bats and other
missiles would be flying about, quite indifferent as to whom they would
hit. The opposing political sides had one great end in view, and that was
to break each other's heads, and they deeply resented anybody else
attempting to interfere with that playful form of amusement, so that
oftentimes both sides would turn their attention on the police and
soldiers, causing us quite considerable inconvenience. However, I must
say this, that on no occasion when I was on duty at such so-called
political meetings and elections did the situation become so aggravated
as to necessitate the use of their arms by the soldiers.
Still, we did go home sometimes with a sore head, and I received my first
wound from a piece of road metal hurled at me from quite a short distance
by a great, strapping, fine Irishwoman. This occurred at Belfast some
time after the affair at Limerick. As far as I remember there was to be a
Catholic procession from somewhere near the Customs House through the
principal streets to the Catholic cathedral. The city authorities and the
police were notified and fully expected quite high old times as regarded
street fighting. They had been advised by those who were carrying out the
procession that the Catholics fully intended to reach the cathedral, even
if it took them a week and they had to walk over the bodies of whoever
tried to stop them, They knew whom they meant all right. The Orangemen
had also informed the authorities that they had very rooted objections to
this procession and that they were determined that that procession was
not to get to the cathedral without some efforts of resistance on their
part. Consequently the authorities requested military assistance, and
further stated that they thought it would be necessary to have on hand,
or close to, a sufficient number of soldiers to preserve the peace. So
the scene was set for a pretty disputation. Many police were in
attendance, and the soldiers were principally utilized out of view, as
far as possible, in the side streets debouching on the route of the
procession. It was hoped by these means to prevent sudden rushes by these
side streets taking the procession at a disadvantage on the flank.
I was detailed to take charge of a dozen cavalrymen and was allotted my
own little side street. We waited for some three or four hours before the
procession as such, or what was left of it, seemed to be approaching our
way. It is difficult to describe the noises that filled the air up to
that time. We could not see down the main street, but we could hear the
smashing of glass windows and the rattling of stones could be easily made
out. And then came our surprise. Suddenly our little side street became
full of men and women, rushing towards the main street, no doubt to
obtain further points of advantage. I can see the women now, holding
their petticoats up with both hands, in which the munitions of war in the
shape of road metal were being carried, and from which the men helped
themselves as they wanted. They came straight at us. What could twelve
men do on horseback against such a rush? They were on us, round us,
through us, before we could get our breath. I suddenly felt one of my
feet had been taken out of the stirrup-iron, and the next thing was that
I was pulled out of my saddle and fell, to my surprise, on something
comparatively soft. It happened to be a lady who was paying me this
delicate attention, and, as I fell on her, she sat down on the ground,
dropped her petticoat out of her hand, and out fell her stock of
munitions. It was some little time before she found breath sufficient for
her to let me know just what she thought of me for coming there to
"interfere with their business." I must have hurt her and annoyed her,
for as I got up and was just mounting my horse, which one of the troopers
was holding, the lady, a big strapping, fine Irishwoman, picked herself
up off the ground, seized the handiest piece of road metal, and threw it,
from about three yards away, at the back of my head.
I saw nothing more of the procession that day. I heard no more sounds of
revelry. I woke up, late in the afternoon, not in my little side-street
but in a very comfortable bed with my head duly bandaged and a nurse
sitting alongside of me. I didn't ask why or wherefore I was there. I
felt it. All I said to her was, "One whisky and soda, please, quick!"
which she brought and which I drank, and then she told me that it had
been reported that the tail end of the procession had reached the
cathedral at last. So all was well. I bear that honourable scar to this
day.