The greatest difficulty experienced by students of Irish history, whether
foreigners or to the manner born, arises out of the crudeness of the mass
of fables and myths, contradictions and harsh criticisms, which confuse
and disfigure many histories of the country. Unfortunately, native Irish
historians and annalists have been wont to indulge much too freely in
exaggeration and romance, substituting the airy creations of the poets for
authenticated facts, and dogmatically putting forward the most minute
details of remote, and therefore necessarily indistinct, actions in a
manner to overtax our credulity and weaken our faith even in well‐
established authorities. English writers, on the contrary, from Giraldus
Cambrensis downward, have erred on the other side. Always ignorant of the
Gaelic tongue, and generally of the customs, laws, and religion of the
people whose history they assumed to chronicle, they invariably attempted
to conceal their defective knowledge by ignoring the claims of the Irish
to a distinctive and high order of civilization, not only before the
advent of the Anglo‐Normans, but anterior to the introduction of
Christianity. The want of adaptability of the English mind to historical
composition, even in relation to domestic matters, may account for much of
this unfair method of treating those of a subjugated nation. National and,
of late centuries, sectarian animosity has been, however, the leading
motive of the British historiographers, with one exception, for falsifying
the records of the past, no matter to what country they belong. To have
acknowledged that S. Patrick preached the Gospel to a race possessing
considerable social refinement and mental culture; that, under Providence,
an entire people were converted to Christianity without any material
change in their civil polity or disruption of their general domestic
relations; and that, even in his lifetime, he had the happiness to see his
work completed, and to feel that he would leave behind him a native
priesthood, whose piety and learning were for ages afterwards to edify and
astonish Europe, was to concede the glory and the wisdom of the church in
introducing and perpetuating the faith of her divine Founder at that early
period of her existence.
With the Irish historians, who fully admitted this great central fact in
the annals of their country, it was different. They knew the language,
laws, and habits of their countrymen, but the circumstances by which they
were surrounded rendered it impossible for them to consult freely the
original records then existing, or to compare and collate them with that
scrutiny and care with which documents of such antiquity ought to be
regarded. Thus, Dr. Keating wrote his work in the recesses of the Galtee
Mountains, while hiding from the “Priest‐hunters” of James I.; and the
Abbé McGeoghegan composed his while in Paris, a fugitive from William of
Orange’s penal laws, where at best he could only consult second‐hand
authorities. As for Moore, though illustrious as a poet, his knowledge of
his native country was of the most meagre and inaccurate description, and
his ignorance of its language and antiquities, as he subsequently
confessed, is apparent in every page of his book.
At the time of the Norman invasion, and for two or three centuries
afterwards, the number of Irish MSS. in Ireland, including histories,
annals, genealogies, poems, topographical and otherwise, historical tales,
and legends, was immense. Many of them, fortunately, are still extant,
bearing date from the Xth, XIth, and XIIth centuries; but the greater
portion are either destroyed or hidden in inaccessible places. As the
civil wars progressed, and the ancient nobility were slaughtered or driven
into exile, the cultivation of native literature gradually ceased, and
consequently many of the most valuable national records were ruined or
lost, so that their titles only remain to us; while others, escaping the
general spoliation, became scattered among the libraries of the Continent,
or found their way into careless or hostile hands. At the present day
several are in the British Museum; the Bodleian Library, Oxford; in Paris
and Brussels; St. Gall, in Switzerland; and St. Isidore’s, in Rome. One
hundred and forty are yet preserved in the library of Trinity College,
Dublin; while many of the most valuable are the property of the Royal
Irish Academy and of private collectors.
The decline of learning in Ireland, like so many of her other calamities,
can be dated from the period of the “Reformation,” as its revival may be
said to have been contemporary with the uprising of the people, which led
to the partial emancipation of the Catholics, less than half a century
ago. Then it was that the Irish, breathing something like the air of
freedom, began in earnest to gather up the broken threads of their ancient
history, and to demonstrate to the world that, though long enslaved and
silenced, the spirit of true nationality was as indestructible in their
hearts as was the faith for which they had so long and heroically
suffered. In 1826 appeared O’Conor’s translation of the first part of the
_Annals of the Four Masters_; some years after Dr. Petrie published his
masterly work on the _Round Towers_, and in 1851 Dr. O’Donovan issued the
entire _Annals_, the great vertebræ of Irish chronology, in seven large
volumes, containing more than four thousand pages; the text in Irish
characters, the translation and copious, critical notes in English. Late
in the next year a commission of Irish scholars was appointed by the
government to collect, transcribe, translate, and publish the _Ancient
Laws and Institutes of Ireland_, which, after a great deal of labor and
expense, has now been accomplished. The first volume of this most valuable
work appeared under the title of _Senchus Mor_, in 1865, the second four
years later, and the third, we learn, has recently been issued from the
press in Dublin. Meanwhile, the Celtic and the Archæological Societies,
separately and combined, for many years past have been publishing several
valuable detached works on Ireland, which have attracted much attention in
literary circles in Europe, and quickened at home the popular desire for
productions of a similar character. In 1867 Dr. Todd’s _Wars of the
Gaedhil with the Gaill_, a translation of all the original documents
extant bearing on the wars of the Danes and other Norsemen in Ireland
during the two centuries preceding the battle of Clontarf, A.D. 1014, was
added to the collection of historical records.
But the merit of elevating the study of Irish history to the dignity of a
profession belongs to the Catholic University of Ireland; thus
constituting a claim on the affections of the Irish people in every clime
which will long remain among the foremost of its many distinctions. At its
foundation a chair of Irish History and Archæology was established, and
the late Eugene O’Curry, of all men then living the most fitted for the
position, was selected to fill it. In 1855‐56 Prof. O’Curry delivered
before the students a course of twenty‐one lectures, afterwards published
at the expense of the University under the title of _Lectures on the MS.
Materials of Ancient Irish History_. This work, including a valuable
appendix, embraces six hundred and sixty pages, and contains a full and
most interesting account of all known documents relating to Irish history.
These lectures were followed by a series _On the Manners and Customs of
the Ancient Irish_, delivered during the years 1857‐62, and recently
published in two handsome volumes, with an introduction and explanatory
notes by the editor, W. K. Sullivan, in an additional volume of six
hundred and forty‐four pages. The value of O’Curry’s last work, as well as
of the very profound introduction by Prof. Sullivan, can hardly be over‐
estimated. In them are contained a complete, vivid, and harmonious series
of pictures of the laws, religion, territorial and class divisions,
literature, art, social habits, weapons, dress, and ornaments of the
people of ancient Ireland from the remotest times to the Xth or XIth
century. The style of O’Curry in presenting these instructive historical
tableaux is clear, concise, and sufficiently varied to attract the
attention of the least diligent student; while any of his statements which
may appear to savor of an over‐fondness for the things of antiquity, or
undue reverence for the past, find an efficient corrective in the critical
and exhaustive commentaries of the editor, who, in addition to being a
distinguished chemist, is evidently an excellent philologist and
ethnologist; as familiar with the genius of the continental languages and
antiquities as he is with those of his own country.
With the results of the labor of two such men before him, the student of
Irish history, though unacquainted with Gaelic, and beyond the reach of
the original documents, has now no excuse for not becoming as familiar
with Gaelic historical and archæological lore as with those of the other
races of the Old World. He will be rewarded, also, in his studies, by the
contemplation of a system of civilization without a parallel in the
records of any other nation of which we have a knowledge; equally removed
from the elaborate, artificial life of the Greeks and the oligarchical
paganism of Rome, as it was from the rude barbarism of the Northmen and
the refined sensuality of the East.
Before the commencement of our era the history of the various tribes who
are said by tradition to have visited Ireland as colonists or invaders is,
of course, obscure, and can be traced only through the legend‐tales of the
poets and story‐tellers of more recent but still very remote times. There
is no doubt, however, that about the middle of the first Christian century
the island was peopled by two distinct and to some extent hostile tribes;
one described as a tall, red or golden haired, blue‐eyed, and fair‐
complexioned people; the other dark and small of stature—evidently the
subject race. About this time a revolution, or rather a series of revolts,
by those known by the name of the _Aithech Tuatha_, or rent‐paying tribes
(the _Atticotti_ of continental writers), broke out, and resulted in the
temporary success of the servile race and the annihilation of the greater
part of the nobility. The aristocracy, however, regained their power after
some years of violent and varying struggle, and to prevent the recurrence
of such bloody scenes, as well as to disunite their enemies, they
redistributed them throughout the island, while at the same time they
built a number of duns, or forts within easy supporting distance of each
other, the better to consolidate their authority and ensure the protection
of their families.
The leader of the restored nobles was Tuathal, “the Legitimate,” who,
having been declared King of Ireland, reorganized the government, founded
the Irish Pentarchy, established great national and provincial fairs, and
enacted the greater part, at least, of the body of laws known as the
_Senchas Mor_. He was in fact the first able soldier, as well as law‐
giver, of whom we have any definite and well‐authenticated account in
Gaelic history. As the country at that time, and for centuries after, was
essentially agricultural, we naturally find that the laws of Tuathal and
his successors are mainly devoted to agrarian matters; the divisions,
rights, and duties of the various classes of occupants of the soil being
set forth with a minuteness and exactness rarely to be found in modern
codes. Politically, the island was divided into five subordinate kingdoms,
nearly corresponding with the present four provinces, except that the
fifth, which was called Meath, embraced not only that county, but
Westmeath and a portion of the surrounding territory. Here were situated
Tara, the principal palace of the _Ard‐Rig_, or supreme monarch, and the
mensal land set apart for his use. Sometimes the _Ard‐Rig_ was also King
of Meath, but generally, as in the cases of Con “of the Hundred Battles,”
Nial, “of the Nine Hostages,” and Brian, “Boru,” he was the head of some
of the great northern or southern septs. In theory the sovereignty was
elective, and by the law of Tanistry the king’s successor was designated
during his lifetime; but in practice, when the crown did not descend
hereditarily, it was most frequently the prize of successful warfare. The
same may also be said of the provincial kings. There appears to have been
no such thing known in that age as a Salic law for the exclusion of women
from a participation in the affairs of government; for we find numerous
instances of kingdoms being swayed and armies led into action by the
gentler sex, notably the celebrated Meave, the Queen of Connaught, and the
darling heroine of Irish fiction.
The provincial kingdoms were divided into _Mor Tuaths_, each of which
comprised several _Tuaths_, and these again were sub‐divided into _Bailé
Biatachs Caethramhadhs_, or quarters; _Seisreachs_, or ploughlands; and
_Bailé‐boes_, or cow‐lands, each of the latter containing about sixty
acres. According to a poem of the VIth or VIIth century, there were in
Ireland at that epoch 184 Tuaths; 5,520 Bailé Biatachs; 22,080 Quarters;
66,240 Plough‐lands; and 132,480 Ballyboes—equal to about 7,948,000 acres.
The lowest rank in the nobility was that of _Flath_, or lord of a _Tuath_;
the highest in the commons were the _Bo‐aires_, or farmers who, though
they held lands from the _Flath_, were freemen, entitled to all the rights
and privileges of witnesses, jurors, bails, and local courts. Next beneath
them were the _saer_ and _daer Ceiles_, or free and base tenants. As there
were no towns or villages of any importance, the rules of the agrarian
laws were applied to all classes, and hence skilled workmen, such as
goldsmiths, blacksmiths, dyers, and other mechanics, were, equally with
the smaller tenant farmers, called free _Ceiles_, holding by contract from
the _Flaths_, and paying in labor or kind a determined equivalent. The
base _Ceiles_ were of two kinds—one who held lands by uncertain tenure, or
as tenants at will; and the other, who performed personal service as
mercenary soldiers or laborers upon the mensal lands of the lord. “Though
the free _Ceiles_ were all freemen,” says Sullivan, “and consequently
possessed some political rights, it is evident that the extent of those
rights differed. In some cases they must have been confined to bearing
arms and obtaining a share of the common land. All _Ceiles_, whether free
or base, had certain definite rights in the territory, such as the right
to have a habitation and the usufruct of the land; but besides these were
several other classes, who possessed either very few rights, or occupied
so low a position in the social scale as to have been practically in a
state of complete servitude; these were the _Bothachs_, _Sencleithes_, and
_Fuidirs_.” The _saer_ or free _Bothachs_ were simply occupiers of cabins,
and the _daer Bothachs_ were menials; while the _Sencleithes_ included all
sorts of poor dependents, generally the descendants of strangers,
mercenaries, or prisoners of war. The _Fuidirs_, to whom S. Patrick in his
captivity belonged, were absolutely serfs attached to the land, and in
some respects the property of the chief. It was only a _Flath_, however,
who was entitled to retain those belonging to the three servile classes;
and where the condition grew out of mutual compact, it could be ended by
either at any time. Prisoners of war, malefactors, and non‐paying debtors,
similar to peons, were of course excluded from this privilege. Those
various classes and sub‐divisions did not constitute perpetual castes; on
the contrary, a member of the lowest order, through lapse of time,
undisturbed possession, and the accumulation of property, could ascend,
not only to the highest place in the commons, but enter the charmed circle
of aristocracy itself.
It must not be supposed, however, that the entire ownership of the soil
was vested in the _Mor‐Flaths_, or great chiefs; in fact, they only owned
their proper estate and the mensal lands attached to their office, upon
which were employed their _Ceiles_ and _Fuidirs_, who tilled the farms and
paid rent by supplying their masters’ tables, and by other tributes. In
like manner the subordinate _Flaths_ and _Airés_ held their own proper
lands in fee, paying their superior a tax, or _Bes‐Tigi_, in
acknowledgment of his authority, and exacting labor and service in turn
from their _Bothachs_, _Sencleithes_, and base _Fuidirs_. The remainder of
the land belonged to the freemen of the _Tuath_ in common, subject only to
the dominion of the chief, though on certain conditions the usufruct could
be devised or alienated. “In process of time,” says Sullivan, “estates
were carved out of this public land, as appanages of offices, as rewards
for public services, or by lapsing into prescription. The holders of such
estates were the _Aires_, and as such were in an especial manner the
_Céiles_ of the _Rig_. The king, with the consent of his council, might,
however, grant a portion of it as allodium at once. It is probable that
Magh Aié, now the plains of Boyle, in Roscommon, was public land.” Around
the duns or fortified residences of the chiefs their retainers and menials
built their wattled huts for the sake of convenience and protection, and
thus were formed the nuclei of so many towns and villages still marked on
the map of Ireland, of the names of which _Dun_ forms a part; just as in
later times the early Irish Christians crowded round the churches and
monasteries, and, thus forming new communities, took the names of their
patrons with the prefix _Kil_, derived from _Cill_, church. Another class
of subjects, artisans, farmers, and teachers, were to be found in the
neighborhood of the courts of law and permanent places for elections, who,
forming corporations or guilds, gradually laid the foundation of boroughs
and privileged towns, under the management of _Brugfers_, or magistrates.
There were several degrees of rank among these officials. Some, whose duty
was confined to the regulation of copartnerships in farms and the fixing
of metes and bounds; others who held courts in their own houses,
entertained guests, and presided over the election of the chiefs and their
_Tanistes_. This class belong to the _Airé_ rank, and every freeman had
the right to vote at the assembly of the _Tuath_, and appear as a witness,
juror, or bail in court. The _Brughfer_ of a province held six different
courts, and superintended the choice of the provincial king and his
successor. On these occasions the voters were all of the _Flath_ rank, and
were supposed to represent their clans or _Finés_. This term, though
literally meaning a house or family, was in law used in three different
senses: first, as applied to all relations by consanguinity to the
seventeenth degree, who were entitled to inherit property, as well as
being liable for fines and mulcts; secondly, to the lord and his
dependents; and, thirdly, to all the inhabitants of a _Tuath_, no matter
of what condition. So, also, the word _Cland_, or clan, which, in its
restricted meaning, was applied only to the nobles and their immediate
families, was in its territorial application interpreted to signify all
the people of the same district, who usually assumed the surname of the
chief, though no relationship existed between him and them. There is
therefore no more reason to suppose that an O’Brien or a Murphy of to‐day
is descended from the victor of Clontarf or the traitor of Ferns, than
that his ancestors were _Fuidirs_ under either of those kings. In fact,
family names were only generally introduced into Ireland in the XIth
century.
With few exceptions, the punishment of crime under the ancient laws of the
country was by fine, so that jails and penitentiaries were unknown. This
fine, or _eric_, was paid by the criminal, or by his _Finé_ or clan, to
the party aggrieved or his representative, and upon failure thereof the
culprit was reduced to the condition of a _Fuidir_. The servile classes,
who had no goods, could not, of course, be fined or further degraded; but
their lords were compelled to respond in damages, and in case of injury
done to his defenceless tenants the landlord was entitled to compensation.
In the _Senchus Mor_, “every nice offence bears its comment,” according to
the enormity of the crime and the rank of plaintiff and defendant; so, in
one sense at least, every man in Erinn may be said to have had his price.
The courts in which those _erics_ were levied seemed to have been
organized on a very just plan, and their procedure exhibits marked germs
of our present jury system—or trial by a certain number of neighbors and
equals.
Minor causes were tried in the courts of the _Tuaths_ or _Aires_, but
greater ones were determined at the provincial assemblies, which appear to
have exercised both legislative and judicial functions. The absence of
cities or stationary places of barter was supplied by the institution of
vast provincial fairs, held at stated times and in central localities. The
most famous of these were that of _Tailté_ in Meath, _Ailech_ in Derry,
and _Carman_ at Wexford. The latter, which took place in August of every
third year, was the most extensive, as well as the most ancient; its
origin lying far back in the mythical ages, and its discontinuance dating
so late as the XIth century. For some strange reason these great national
fairs were invariably held in pagan cemeteries, and in ante‐Christian
times were always commenced with games and funeral ceremonies, closing
with horse‐racing, martial and athletic sports. According to the ancient
chronicle, there were three markets at each fair, viz.:
“A market for food and clothes; a market for live‐stock, cows and horses,
etc.; a market of foreigners and exiles, selling gold and silver, etc. The
professors of every art, both the noble arts and the base arts, and non‐
professionals, were there, selling and exhibiting their compositions and
their professional works to kings, and rewards were given for every work
of art that was just or lawful to be sold or exhibited or listened to.”
The most important business of the assembly, however, consisted of the
making of new laws and the revision of old ones for the province for the
three succeeding years; and, as the _Rig_ and his officers were always in
attendance, the hearing and decision of serious causes on appeal from the
inferior courts. In the presence of the sovereign and his court the
greatest order and decorum were enjoined, and whoever was found to disturb
the public peace by violence or fraud was summarily condemned to death;
the offence being in some sort adjudged treason, and not condonable by
_eric_ fine. The time not devoted to law‐making, trials, and traffic was
occupied in amusement and various sorts of pastimes; and if the ancient
people of Erinn had as much relish for fun and frolic as their
descendants, we can well imagine what mirth, sociability and interchange
of opinions must have prevailed among such a light‐hearted multitude,
whose only opportunity for enjoyment and mutual recognition occurred every
third year. An old poem, “which,” says O’Curry, “I believe to have been
contemporary with the last celebration of the feast, if not of even a more
ancient date,” thus enumerates the different classes of persons who
attended on such occasions, and the intellectual wares they brought with
them for the delectation of the gathering:
“Trumpets, _Cruits_,(114) wide‐mouthed horns,
_Cusigs Timpanists_, without weariness,
Poets and petty rhymesters;
“Fenian tales of Find(115)—an untiring entertainment—
Destructions, cattle‐preys, courtships,
Inscribed tablets and books of trees,(116)
Satires and sharp‐edged runes;
“Proverbs, maxims, royal precepts,
And the youthful instruction of Fithal;
Occult poetry, topographical etymologies,
The precepts of Cairpri and of Cormac;
“The Feasts, and the great Feast of Teamar;
Fairs, with the fair of Emania,
Annals there are verified,
Every division into which Erin was divided.”
The Feast of _Teamair_, or Tara, here alluded to as having constituted one
of the subjects of the recitations at _Carman_, was also triennial, but of
a different nature, and involving much higher occupations than those of
the provincial fairs or feasts. It was an assembly of the subordinate
kings and the nobles for elective, legislative, and judicial purposes;
but, though nominally held every three years, was in reality celebrated as
often as a new king was to be crowned, a general public law to be
promulgated, or when some extraordinary occasion demanded the presence of
the chiefs and _Rigs_ before the supreme monarch. Again, many years are
known to have elapsed without an assembly or _Feis_, owing to the
existence of internal dissensions or foreign invasions. This assembly is
said to have owed its origin to _Tuathal_ the Legitimate, and it is
certain that it only ceased to be held when Tara was abandoned as a royal
residence in the VIIth century. The court of the _Ard‐Rig_ on such
occasions was not only attended by the provincial magnates and, in pagan
times, by the chief Druids, but by their followers, poets, doctors, and
historians, with their respective household guards. It was a knowledge of
this custom, doubtless, that led S. Patrick to select the hill of Tara as
the place, and the assembly of the _Feis_ as the fitting occasion, upon
which to disclose to the darkened minds of the whole people the splendid
truths of Christianity.
The palace and adjoining houses of ancient Tara, judging by the extensive
traces of their foundations yet remaining, must have been built on a very
large scale; but as they were constructed entirely of wood, the buildings
proper have long since disappeared. Still, we have accounts, more or less
authentic, that collectively they were able to afford shelter and
accommodation to many thousands of visitors, and that the barracks alone
allowed quarters for twenty‐four thousand soldiers. Of the style of
architecture of the king’s house we have no description, save that it was
rectangular, and that its principal room or hall, which was used for
deliberations as well as for feasts, was profusely ornamented with
carvings in gold, silver, and bronze. Before the introduction of
Christianity all buildings were of wood, some square or rectangular,
others oval or round. Those of the higher classes were made of solid logs,
but the smaller farmers and laborers dwelt in huts made of interlaced
wattles or twigs, the interstices closed by mortar made with wet earth and
straw. Stone structures were unknown before S. Patrick’s time; for, though
lime was used as a wash for the interior and exterior of houses, its
employment as a cement dates from the Christian ages. Hence there are no
pagan ruins to be found in the country. The Round Towers, now proven
beyond doubt to have been church belfries, are the most ancient stone
memorials existing. It may be also remembered that the Druids had no such
places of worship as temples or covered sanctuaries, and whatever rites
they performed must have been celebrated in the open air. Indeed, our
knowledge of those mysterious people and of their equally occult religious
system is merely of a negative character; for, as O’Curry says:
“We only know that they worshipped idols from such examples as
that of the idol gods taken into the Druid’s bed, so as to
influence his visions, as described in Cormac’s _Glossary_, and
that of the invocation of the idols in the case of the _Teinm
Laeghdha_; and we know that in certain ceremonies they made use of
the yew‐tree, the quicken or roan‐tree, and of the black‐thorn, as
in the instance of the ordeal or test of a woman’s character by
means of fire made of these sacred woods. That the people of
ancient Erinn were idolaters is certain, for they certainly adored
the great idol called _Crom Cruagh_, in the plain called _Magh
Slecht_, as I showed on a former occasion. But it is remarkable
that we find no mention of any connection between this idol and
the Druids, or any other class of priests or special idol‐servers.
We have only the record of the people, generally, assembling at
times to do honor to the idol creation. As little, unfortunately,
do we know of the organization of the order of the Druids, if they
were indeed an order. They certainly were not connected as such
with the orders of learned men or profession of teachers, such as
before explained. The Druids were often, however, engaged in
teaching, as has been seen; and it would appear that kings and
chiefs, as well as learned men, were also frequently Druids,
though how or why I am not in a position to explain with certainty
at present.... I have refrained from suggesting any theory of my
own on the subject. This negative conclusion, nevertheless, I will
venture to draw from the whole: that, notwithstanding the
singularly positive assertions of many of our own as well as of
English writers upon the subject, there is no ground whatever for
believing the Druids to have been the priests of any special
positive worship; none whatever for imputing to them human
sacrifices; none whatever for believing that the early people of
Erinn adored the sun, moon, or stars, nor that they worshipped
fire; and still less foundation for the ridiculous inventions of
modern times (inventions of pure ignorance), concerning honors
paid to brown bulls, red cows, or any other cows, or any of the
lower animals.”
Next in rank and social importance, if not the equals or superiors of the
Druids, were the _Ollamhs_, or doctors, the _Files_, or poets, and the
_Brehons_ or judges. In the earliest ages these three classes were all
included under the term _Fileadh_, poets, who not only professed
philosophy, such as it then was, but recorded history and chronology in
verse, and expounded the laws so preserved, in the various local courts
and tribunals. A tendency, however, to mystify and confuse the statutes of
Tuathal and his successors, led to the expulsion of the children of song
from the forum, while the offices about the sovereign, when grave matters
were to be considered, fell to the lot of the philosophers. This latter
class had also an especial charge of educational matters, and usually
superintended personally the training of the children of the _Rigs_ and
chiefs. The _Ard‐Rig_, the provincial kings, and the _Flaths_ had their
own philosophers, poets, and judges, with their special duties assigned
them. Of the first, besides making and preserving regular records, “they
were bound by the same laws,” says O’Curry, “to make themselves perfect
masters of that history in all its details, and to teach it to the people
by public recitals, as well as to be legal referees upon all subjects in
dispute concerning history and the genealogies.” No person could be a
_Brehon_ without first becoming an _Ollamh_, and twelve years’ study was
required for that honor. But the poets, like their tribe in every land and
age, were the nobly honored and the most privileged of any order in the
government. They flattered kings and satirized them with impunity, charmed
the masses with the melody of their songs and the fertility of their
imagination; but, while they were generally on the side of popular liberty
in their verses, they were always to be found at the tables of the nobles,
where good cheer and rich largesses awaited them. However, as their poems
were the only vehicles through which the history, traditions, and even
laws of the nation could possibly have been transmitted to us, we owe them
too much to blame their amiable weaknesses. Like the teacher, when the
_File_ travelled about the country he was accompanied by his pupils, and
every hospitality was shown to him and them, partly from love of his
calling, and not seldom through dread of his satires. Many instances are
recorded in popular tales of the dire effects of the poet’s wrath, of
which sickness, loss of property and reputation, were among the least.
In connection with the courts we find two classes of paid advocates, one
the _Ebe_, attorney, and the other the _Aighne_, or counsellor. When it is
remembered that slander and libel were offences severely punished in the
Brehon courts by _eric_ fine, we can admire the grim humor which
discriminated against the attorneys, who, as the wise law‐givers of old
argued, being professional libellers of other men, had no right to exact a
fine when their own characters were assailed.
The custom of fosterage, about which so much unfavorable comment has been
made by modern ill‐informed writers, is fully and clearly explained by
O’Curry, who classes it as a part of the educational system of the
country, and not, as some erroneously suppose, the partial desertion of
children by their parents. In Lecture XVII. he asserts:
“We have ample proof that this fosterage was not a mere
indiscriminate custom among all classes of the people, nor in any
case one merely confined to the bare physical nurture and rearing
of the child, which in early infancy was committed to the care of
a nurse and her husband; but that the fosterhood was generally
that of a whole family or tribe, and that in very many cases it
became a bond of friendship and alliance between two or more
tribes, and even provinces. In those cases the fosterers were not
of the common class, poor people glad to perform their nursing for
mere pay, and whose care extended to physical rearing only. On the
contrary, it is even a question, and one not easily settled,
whether the term nursing, in the modern acceptation of the word,
should be applied at all to the old Gaelic fosterage, and whether
the term pupilage would not be more appropriate.... The old Gaelic
fosterage extended to the training and education, not only of
children up to the age of fourteen, but sometimes of youths up to
that of seventeen years.”
One of the chief duties of the foster‐father was the military training of
the young chieftains. This consisted principally of the management of the
horse, either in pairs for the chariot or singly for riding, the use of
the casting spear and sling, and the sword exercise. Of strategy the
ancient Irish soldiers had no idea, and very little of tactics; so that
their battles were hand‐to‐hand combats, and therefore bloody and
generally decisive. Their weapons of bronze or iron, many fine specimens
of which we examined years ago in the museum of the Royal Irish Academy,
still exhibit evidences of high finish and excellent temper. We do not
find any mention of cavalry in the accounts handed down to us of the
various battles fought in the earlier centuries, and very slight allusions
to defensive armor. Ornaments of gold and other precious metals, such as
crowns, collars, torque rings, and shield‐bosses, were worn in great
profusion and variety, not only by nobles and generals, but by ordinary
officers; in fact, so gorgeous are the poets’ descriptions of the
decorations of their favorite heroes that we might be inclined to accuse
them of gross exaggeration had we not also been shown some magnificent
antiques of this description, in a perfect state of preservation, by the
gentlemen of the academy during several visits made to that depository of
Irish antiquities. Some of these valuable decorations are made of native
ore, but by far the greater number were manufactured out of the spoils of
war—the plunder wrested from the adjacent islands and the coast of France
by the numerous expeditions that were fitted out in Ireland in the three
or four centuries preceding S. Patrick’s mission.
The dress of the higher classes was, it seems, equally magnificent, and
each rank was distinguished, not only by the peculiar shape of its
garments, but by the number of colors allowed to be worn. Thus, servants
had one color; farmers, two; officers, three; women, four; chiefs, five;
_ollamhs_ and _files_, six; kings and queens, seven; and, according to the
ancient records, bishops of the Christian Church were afterwards allowed
to use all these combined. Red, brown, and crimson, with their shades and
compounds, were the colors generally used; green, yellow, blue, and black
sometimes, but not frequently. Prof. Sullivan, in that part of his
introduction treating of the various dye‐stuffs used in ancient Ireland,
takes occasion to dissipate some popular errors with regard to national
colors. He says:
“Garments dyed yellow with saffron are constantly spoken of by
modern writers as characteristic of the Irish. There is no
evidence, however, that saffron was at all known by the ancient
Irish, and _Lenas_ or _Inars_ of a yellow color are only mentioned
two or three times in the principal tales. From what has been
shown in the _Lectures_ and in this _Introduction_ about the color
of the ancient Irish dress, it will be evident that there was no
national as distinguished from clan color for the _Lena_; a
saffron‐dyed one, if at all used in ancient times, would be
peculiar to a single clan.”
The _Lena_ here spoken of was an inner garment which hung down to the
knees like a modern kilt, usually made of linen, and sometimes interwoven
with threads of gold. In addition to this were worn a shirt, or _Leine_; a
cloak (_Brat_); an _Inar_, or jacket; _Triubhas_, or trowsers; a _Bor_, or
conical hat; and _Cuarans_, or shoes made of raw‐hide. The costume of the
women differed little from that of the men, except that they discarded the
_triubhas_, and wore their _lenas_ and _leines_ longer. “They were,
however,” says Sullivan, “distinguished from the men by wearing a veil,
which covered the head. This veil was the _Caille_, which formed an
essential part of the legal contents of a lady’s work‐bag. In a passage
from the laws, quoted in the _Lectures_, it is called ‘a veil of one
color’; as if variegated ones were sometimes used.... The white linen
cloth still worn by nuns represents exactly both the Irish _Caille_ and
the German _Hulla_.” In many other respects, besides the matter of dress,
women were placed on a footing nearly equal to that of men in those remote
times; and if their liberal and respectful treatment may be considered one
of the tests of civilization, the old Gaels were in refinement far in
advance of any other race in pagan Europe, and indeed of many of our own
times. We find women not only taking part in public affairs as rulers and
generals, but as Druidesses, judges, poets, and teachers. At Tara and the
great provincial fairs a separate portion of the grounds was assigned
them, so that they could observe the games and enjoy the amusements
without interruption; while in the homes of the _Rigs_ and chiefs the best
rooms, and sometimes an entire building, called _Grianan_, or sunny house,
was exclusively reserved for their use. Most of the principal places in
the country, such as the locations of the great fairs and the sites of
royal palaces, were named in their honor, as well as the mountains and
rivers and other objects in nature suggestive of symmetry, beauty, and
elegance. We also read in the _Senchus Mor_ several very minute and
stringent laws protecting their rights of person and property, assigning
their dowry before marriage and their separate ownership of property
afterwards. They were, in fact, to a great extent pecuniarily independent
of their husbands; and though polygamy was tolerated and divorce allowed
in pagan times, they were so hedged in by restrictions and conditions that
it is more than probable little advantage was taken of the latitude thus
afforded both parties.
Being almost exclusively an agricultural people, with very little commerce
with the outward world, the food of the ancient Irish was confined to the
natural productions of the soil, flesh‐meat, milk, and fish. Wheat, spelt‐
wheat, barley, and oats were produced in abundance, while cattle were so
plentiful and so general an article of traffic that in the absence of coin
they formed the currency of the country, and in them fines were paid and
taxes levied. Butter, milk, and cheese were luxuries, but vegetables, such
as leeks, onions, and water‐cresses, were to be found growing in the
garden of the lowest _Fuidir_. Beer, likewise, appears to have been the
popular drink. Imported wine and native mead, distilled from honey, were
considered the aristocratic beverages of the period. That large quantities
of the latter were consumed at the triennial feasts there can be no doubt,
judging from the tales of the poets; and it was on occasions when it was
circling round the board that the _Cruits_ (harps), _Timpans_, or violins,
and _Cruiscach_, or pipes, the three principal musical instruments of the
Gaels, came into play. The poets, too, were there to sing their songs of
love and war, and the historians to recite the traditions of the tribes of
Erinn. It is not positively known whether the pagan Irish had a written
language or alphabet. O’Curry is disposed to believe they had, while
Sullivan is of opinion that letters and writing were introduced with
Christianity, and that previous to S. Patrick’s time all teaching in the
ancient schools was oral, and the genealogies and histories were committed
to memory and transmitted from father to son. They both, however, agree
that there was a system of writing known only to the initiated, now called
_Ogham_, which was inscribed on prepared wood, and engraved on monuments
and tombstones, many of which latter, though still well preserved, are
illegible to the best antiquarian scholars. The ancient Gaels, like their
descendants, had a special reverence for their dead, and indulged in
protracted wakes, as well as extensive funerals. In pagan days their
funeral ceremonies were most elaborate, but in Christian times these gave
way to the solemn offices of the church. Each person was buried according
to his rank while living; the corpse was deposited deep in the ground, and
a cairn or mound of earth and stone was erected over the grave to mark the
spot. We have no reason to suppose that they had even the faintest notion
of a future life or of the immortality of the soul, their mythology
limiting the supernatural to celebrated _Tuatha da Danians_, real
personages, who had left the surface to inhabit the bowels of the earth,
and to fairies, the “good people” of the modern peasantry.
Those, then, were the people, computed to have been about three millions
in number in his time, to whom S. Patrick preached the New Law, and whose
complete conversion and subsequent undying attachment to Catholicity have
puzzled as well as confounded the enemies of the church. Though pagans,
they were neither barbarous nor over‐superstitious, and their ready
appreciation and acceptance of God’s mysterious and elaborate Word is the
best proof that their hearts were pure and their minds active and
comprehensive.
Robespierre.
The father of the great revolutionary demagogue was an advocate at Arras,
a peaceful citizen, who had nothing about him in character or manners to
suggest that he was to be the parent of the monster known to history as
the tiger‐man. Nay, so little of ferocity was there about the worthy
advocate that, when his wife died, he nearly went melancholy‐mad for
grief, and in his despair left his native town, and took to wandering
about France, then beyond it to Germany and England, where he finally
died. There are, it is true, some ill‐natured local chronicles extant
which pretend that it was not so much grief as debt that drove the
disconsolate widower into exile; and this harsh and unpoetic version is
supported by the fact of his having, by his flight, abandoned to
loneliness and utter destitution the three little children, two boys and a
girl, whom the wife he so bitterly lamented had left to his paternal care.
Maximilien Marie Isidore, the eldest of the three, was born on the 6th of
April, 1760. The solitary position and the poverty of the deserted
children attracted the compassion of some kind persons of the town, and
notably that of the _curé_ of the parish, who sent Maximilien to school,
where soon, by dint of hard work and intelligence, the boy shot ahead of
all his class fellows, and justified the predictions of friends that he
would make a name for himself in whatever trade or calling he embraced.
The Bishop of Arras, Mgr. de Conzié, was also interested in the little
fellow; his industry and desolate poverty making a claim on the prelate’s
paternal notice. He used his influence with the abbot of the famous Abbey
of Waast to grant Maximilien one of the abbatial _bourses_ at the College
of Louis le Grand, in Paris. The very first steps in life of the future
persecutor of priests and religion were thus guided by the hand of the
church, his poverty enriched, his orphanhood fathered, by her charity. The
Abbé Proyart, then president of Louis le Grand, continued to the poor
provincial student the fostering kindness of those worthy ecclesiastics
who had placed him under his charge. Maximilien was also at this time
largely assisted and most kindly befriended by the Abbé de la Roche, a
canon of Notre Dame, who, all through the period of the young man’s
studies in Paris, kept watch over him, and showed him the most sincere and
delicate affection. When at the age of nineteen, Maximilien left the
college, the Abbé de la Roche used his influence to secure the vacant
_bourse_ for the younger brother, Augustin Robespierre, and succeeded.
Maximilien was called to the bar very soon after leaving Paris, and began
at once to excite attention by his talent as a speaker. The first mention
we find of his forensic success is in 1783, when he was engaged in a case
against the corporation of St. Omer, a small town near Arras, in behalf of
a gentleman who had erected a lightning‐conductor on his house, and been
prosecuted on account of it, and condemned by the corporation. He appealed
to the higher court of Arras. Robespierre pleaded his cause, and won a
triumphant reversal of the first verdict. We find a note of this incident
in the _Memoires de Bachaumont_: “The cause about the _paratonnerre_ has
been before our court three days, and has been pleaded by M. de
Robespierre, a young lawyer of extraordinary merit; he has displayed in
this affair—which was, in fact, the cause of art and science against
prejudice—a degree of eloquence and sagacity that gives the highest idea
of his talents. He had a complete triumph; on the 31st day of May the
court reversed the sentence, and permitted M. de Boisvale to re‐erect his
_paratonnerre_.” Robespierre was just three‐and‐twenty at this date. He is
styled _de_ Robespierre by the writer, and had assumed the _particule
noble_ at a much earlier date; he is entered at college with it, and at
the bar, and was elected to the States‐General as _de_ Robespierre. The
pretentious prefix cost him dear, as we shall see; it afforded a poisoned
shaft to Camille Desmoulins long after the Regenerator of the people had
erased the feudal particle from his signature. But these were sunny days,
when he might use it with impunity, and even to some advantage. The young
advocate was courted and admired, and made welcome in clubs and drawing‐
rooms; he wrote essays and won prizes from learned societies, thus
establishing a literary as well as legal reputation. He even aspired to be
a poet, and addressed sonnets to ladies of fashion at Arras, which gained
him the smiles of the Ariadnes and Arachnes that he sang to, and caused
him to be rallied as a squire of dames. This time of merry dalliance,
however, soon came to an end, and graver ambitions began to open out
before Robespierre. He was elected member of the States‐General. M.
Dumont, the distinguished journalist, gives a lively description of the
figure made by the “avocat, de Robespierre,” in one of the earliest
sittings of that Assembly: “The clergy, for the purpose of surprising the
Tiers Etat into a union of the orders, sent a deputation to invite the
Tiers to a conference on the distresses of the poor. The Tiers saw through
the design, and, not willing to acknowledge the clergy as a separate body,
yet afraid to reject so charitable and popular a proposition, knew not
what answer to make, when one of the deputies, after concurring in the
description of the miseries of the people, rose and addressed the
ecclesiastical deputation: ‘Go tell your colleagues that, if they are so
anxious to relieve the people, they should hasten to unite themselves in
this hall with the friends of the people. Tell them no longer to retard
our proceedings and the public good by contumacious delays, or to try to
carry their point by such stratagems as this. Rather let them, as
ministers of religion, as worthy servants of their Master, renounce the
splendor which surrounds them, the luxury which insults the poor. Dismiss
those insolent lackeys who attend you; sell your gaudy equipages, and
convert those odious superfluities into food for the poor.’ At this
speech, which interpreted so well the passions of the moment, there arose,
not applause—that would have appeared like a bravado—but a confused murmur
of approbation much more flattering. Every one asked who was the speaker.
He was not known, but in a few minutes his name passed from mouth to
mouth; it was one which afterwards made all France tremble—it was
_Robespierre_!”
One is at a loss which to admire most in this brilliant _sortie_, the
skill and power of the speaker in playing on the passions of his hearers,
or the dastardly ingratitude which led him to use the eloquence he owed in
so large a measure to the clergy for the purpose of stigmatizing his best
benefactors. The first time Robespierre’s voice was raised in the tribune
it was to vituperate the men to whom he owed his education, almost, it may
be said, his existence. The reward of this treachery was not delayed; he
electrified his audience, and henceforth became known to fame, though not
yet to infamy. It is only just to Robespierre to admit that when he
entered on his public life, his character was unstained by any of the
vices which it developed later; he was in private life held to be
virtuous, and suspected of no vice beyond the honorable one of ambition.
Probably he would have lived and died amongst his fellow‐citizens without
earning a worse reputation than the rest of them, if this latent ambition
had not led him to seek to rise above them, and if his ability had not
seconded the aspiration. Even in his demagogic career he kept his
reputation for integrity, and gained the surname of the Incorruptible.
Incorruptible by money he certainly was, while the instinct of either
cowardice or sagacity induced him to disavow all personal ambition. Power
was what he thirsted for; wealth and pageant he despised. These
principles, aided by his fiery talent as any orator and his shrewd
knowledge of the times, soon lifted him above all competitors, and made
him a kind of uncrowned monarch long before he became so in reality as
dictator of the republic. It is interesting to note the various decrees he
passed while reigning in the National Assembly. One of the first was the
turning of the Church of S. Geneviève into a Pantheon for the ashes of
great men, and the inauguration of the paganized Christian temple by the
entombing of Mirabeau’s remains there. Then we see him ardent in
endeavoring to carry the abolition of capital punishment—an instance of
that strange paradox so common to Frenchmen, who shrink with morbid
sentimentality from inflicting death on the vilest malefactor by the hand
of justice, while so ready to shed the blood of innocent men without
remorse, nay, with exultation, the moment their passions are roused.
The flight of the royal family to Varennes wrought a sudden and decisive
change in the state of public affairs. Robespierre was just then at the
summit of his reputation as an orator, admired as the most prominent
figure in Mme. Roland’s coterie, which numbered all the cleverest men of
the new school, though the gifted and ill‐starred centre of the group
seems, even in the days of their closest friendship, to have resented
Robespierre’s stubborn independence, which contrasted disagreeably with
the unqualified adulation of his fellow‐devotees.
The abortive attempt of the unfortunate Louis to fly from a position which
had become unbearable had set the match to the train which Robespierre and
his Jacobin faction had so long been preparing. The question, hitherto
whispered in ambiguous words, was now spoken boldly aloud: What was to be
done with the king? Lafayette was for keeping him a prisoner in the
Tuileries, he, meanwhile, acting as a sort of military viceroy; the
Orleanist faction had another solution to offer; the Jacobins and the
Girondists another. There was a stormy sitting at the Assembly. Brissot
proposed that the people should like one man rally round the republican
flag, and sign a petition for the abolition of the king. There arose in
answer to this daring proposition a tempest of applause, terror, anger,
and loyal indignation. The Assembly rejected it, and voted for maintaining
the king. Robespierre rushed out of the hall, tearing his hair and crying
out, “My friends, we are lost! The king is saved!” This was on the 15th of
July. A meeting had been already called of the Jacobin Club for the 17th
on the Champs de Mars for the purpose of expressing the national will. The
club, on hearing the vote of the Assembly, kept up a farce of respect by
issuing a counter‐order. But the sovereign people were hampered by no such
mock scruples; they, in the person of Brissot, drew up a fresh petition,
and invited all classes of their fellow‐citizens to attend at the
appointed day on the Champs de Mars, where the altar of fatherland would
be erected, and where all patriots could sign the petition towards the
freedom of the country. A tragi‐comic incident marked the proceedings at
an early hour. Two men were found hid under the “altar,” and detected in
the act of boring a hole in it with a gimlet; they were forthwith dragged
out and massacred on the spot, though the only evidence of guilt brought
against them at the time, or afterwards, was that one of them had a wooden
leg, and the other a basket of provisions. The mob were like dry powder
that only wanted a spark to make it ignite, destroying and self‐
destructive. The wildest inferences were drawn from the discovery of the
two unlucky eaves‐droppers: they were laying a mine to blow up the
patriots assembled round the altar of fatherland; the absence of all
appliances for this terrible purpose proved nothing; some cried out that
they were spies in the king’s pay; others that they were secreted there as
dupes to be murdered by Lafayette’s creatures as a pretext for beginning
the massacres that followed. We even find Mme. Roland repeating some
absurd notions of this kind; but nothing is too monstrous or too
preposterous for prejudice to swallow. However, let the motives of the two
men have been what they may, their murder was undoubtedly the signal for
that onslaught of the troops which completely destroyed Lafayette’s
tottering popularity, and compelled him to leave Paris for a command on
the frontier. The real odium of the unpremeditated blood‐shedding fell,
like every mistake of the time, on the king. On the 5th of February, 1792,
Robespierre was named Public Accuser, and from this event dates the
explosion of personal rivalry between him and Brissot. He never could
forgive the latter having been chosen to draw up that famous petition of
the Champs de Mars, and for keeping the ascendency which this fact gave
him in the Assembly and in the Jacobin Club. But Robespierre did not long
retain the subordinate position of Public Accuser; he hated the bondage of
having to attend at fixed hours, and some months after his nomination he
resigned and started a newspaper called the _Défenseur_. Blood and terror
were henceforth the watchwords of the journalist‐patriot. He effected a
sham reconciliation with Brissot and all other enemies, and the Judas kiss
of hate and treachery went round.
Roland was named minister at this crisis; a clever and honest man,
moderate, and, above all, the husband of Mme. Roland, his nomination was
hailed with joy by all. Robespierre alone was furious at seeing the
mediocre provincial farmer placed over his head. His jealous vengeance
against Mme. Roland dated from this elevation of her husband. The success
of his journal consoled him, meanwhile, for the delay of larger triumphs,
while it procured him competence and independence, which were all he
required. He lodged with a man named Duplay, a carpenter, who had a wife
and two daughters. One of the latter became branded in connection with the
name of her father’s tenant. Robespierre vindicated his surname of
Incorruptible all through the period of his popular power, inasmuch as he
was inaccessible to the temptation of money or any of the softer bribes
which sometimes beguile hard, ambitious men into acts of mercy or passing
tenderness.
In August, 1792, he suspended his labors as a journalist, and henceforth
devoted his undivided energies and his whole time to the political events
which were thickening around him. The last number of the _Défenseur_
contains an inflammatory appeal which is too significant of the man and
the times to be omitted. It was decided that a convention should be
elected to choose a new form of national government. The issue depended
almost entirely on the character and principles of the members who should
compose it. Robespierre determined at any and every cost to be one of the
elected. It was his supreme opportunity; if he missed it, his career as a
popular leader was broken, and he must sink back into the ranks of obscure
mediocrities who had shot up from the mass of agitators like rockets,
burning bright and fierce for a moment, and then subsiding in darkness. He
had that instinct of genius which enables a man to read the temper of his
time, and to this sanguinary temper he passionately addressed himself in
the closing number of his paper:
“You must _prepare_ the success of this convention by the regeneration of
the spirit of the people. Let us awake—all, all arise, all arm, and the
enemies of liberty will hide themselves in darkness. Let the tocsin of
Paris be re‐echoed in all the departments. Let the people learn at once to
reason and to fight. You are now at war with all your oppressors, and you
will have no peace till you have punished them. Far be from you that
pusillanimous weakness or that cowardly indulgence which the tyrants so
long satiated with the blood of the people now invoke when their own hour
is come! Impunity has produced all their crimes and all your sufferings.
Let them fall under the sword of the law. Clemency towards them would be
real barbarity—an outrage on injured humanity.” This manifesto revealed
the true aim and policy of Robespierre, and just gave the touch that was
necessary to set the wheel revolving. Danton cried amen to it, and all the
faction shouted amen in chorus. “We must dare, and dare again, and dare to
the bitter end!” said Danton, and the word acted like a trumpet‐call to
the bloodhounds of the revolution. The prisons of Paris were at this
moment gorged with aristocrats awaiting their trial. The people shouted,
Try them! The tocsin sounded, the prison‐doors were surrounded. Mock
courts of justice were set up in the courtyards. Quickly, one by one, the
prisoners are called out, questions are rapidly put and answered; the jury
decides: “Let the prisoner be enlarged!” The _gendarmes_ seize him; they
open the gate and “enlarge” him. He falls forward on a mass of glittering
pikes and bayonets, and dies, cut to pieces. Soon the number of the
butchered is so great that the amateur executioners have to pause and
clear the space by piling up the corpses to one side before they resume
their work. Every prison presents the same scene. At La Force a remnant of
the Swiss Guard is called out. “They clasp each other spasmodically, gray
veterans crying, ‘Mercy, gentlemen, mercy!’ But there is no mercy! They
prepare to die like brave men. One of them steps forward. He had on a blue
frock‐coat. He was about thirty. His stature was above the common, his
look noble and martial. ‘I go first,’ he said, ‘since it must be so.
Adieu!’ Then, dashing his hat behind him, ‘Which way?’ cried he to the
brigands. ‘Show it me.’ They open the folding gate. He is announced to the
multitude. He stands a moment motionless, then plunges forth among the
pikes, and dies of a thousand wounds.”(117) The fair and saintly Princesse
de Lamballe fell, butchered by the same pikes; her head paraded through
the streets, her remains profaned by the most unheard‐of indignities. As
it always happens in these storms of human souls, there were tones of a
divine harmony to be heard striking through the hideous din. Old M. de
Sombreuil is dragged out to die. His daughter, a tender girl in the first
blush of maidenhood, rushes out, fearless and bold, clinging to him, and
appeals to the tigers about to shed his blood: “O good friends! he is my
father! He is no aristocrat! We hate aristocrats; tell me how I can prove
it to you?” They fill a bowl full of the hot blood of an aristocrat just
slain, and present it to her, saying: “Drink this, and we will believe
thee and spare thy father.”