THE ATTACK ON CHURCHTOWN BARRACKS.
The Whiteboys, and their leader, reached Churchtown Barracks about
midnight. All was silent when they arrived, except the measured step of
the sentinel. Darkness covered all things as with a pall. But Cussen
knew every inch of the ground, and the darkness, instead of being an
impediment, was rather auxiliary to his purpose. He posted his men in a
favorable position, and, within ten minutes of their arrival, everything
was ready, and every one fully instructed as to his particular line of
action, and was prepared for the manner of the attack.
Churchtown Barracks, in the centre of a very disturbed district, had
formerly been the residence of a private gentleman. When life and
property had become insecure, afraid of the doom of Major Going, he had
fled the country. Major Going, who had been not only agent to the great
Courtenay estates (Lord Devon's), but also a magistrate, had made
himself unpopular in both capacities. He _would_ have the rent duly
paid at the appointed day, and he sometimes went out of his way, from
excess of zeal, to show his vigilance as a dispenser of justice, under
the law. After many warnings, which only made him more exacting and more
severe, he was assassinated. His successor, a gentleman named Hoskins,
followed the same track--dignified by the name of "the path of
duty,"--and shared the same doom. Not without warning, for, weeks before
that doom was inflicted, he had heard even his own laborers chaunt the
Whiteboy doggerel--
"Hoskins and Going
Are nearly one,--
Hoskins is GOING,
And Going is GONE!"
The noon-day assassination of two such active magistrates, and the
increase of predial insurrection in the counties of Cork and Limerick,
so imperatively called for the allocation of a large and permanent
military force at places in or near the disturbed localities, that the
Irish Government gladly occupied Churchtown House, at a high rent, as
temporary barracks. For some months previous to the night when Cussen
and his men appeared before it, several companies of infantry, and two
troops of cavalry, had been stationed at Churchtown, whence, on the
requisition of a magistrate, detachments might be detailed for duty, in
more or less force, as circumstances might appear to require.
With the strategy of a clever leader, Cussen had contrived to render the
place comparatively defenceless, by having notices sent to the officer
left in command, that there was to be a midnight assemblage of Whiteboys
on the other side of Charleville, and that an attack, to obtain arms,
was to be made on a gentleman's residence not far beyond. A strong
detachment of infantry and cavalry was sent off, to arrest the midnight
conclave, and to defend the house which was to be the object of attack.
The notice which thus put the authorities on the _qui vive_ came from a
schoolmaster, who was deeply involved in the conspiracy of the
Whiteboys, and was also in the pay of Government, as a spy. He had
repeatedly given information to the military. It had been remarked,
however,--but more as a matter of curiosity than suspicion,--that while
they rarely gained anything but fatigue from sallies made at his
instigation, they never had been successful, but that outrages were
pretty sure to be committed, at the same time, in a quarter opposite to
that which he had suggested. In truth, he was a Whiteboy to the
backbone, and a traitor to the authorities who employed him. But, like
most of the peasantry of Limerick county, he was so very plausible in
manmer, stolid in countenance, and impenetrable in well-acted simplicity
of speech and act, that his fidelity was not distrusted by the
magistracy or the military. The police did not think well of him.
The military force at Churchtown was large enough to be under the
command of a Field Officer. On this occasion Major White, to whom that
responsible post had been intrusted, deemed the information sufficiently
important to place most of his men on active duty. There remained in the
barrack a few dragoons, a score of infantry, and one subaltern officer.
Hastily as Churchtown House had been converted into a military station,
care had been taken to make it assume something of a garrison
appearance. A stone wall had been erected all around the building,
inclosing sufficient space as a barrack-yard, in which the soldiers
might attend drill, and go through their exercises. This wall was
somewhat more than breast high. As there was a strong gate at each side,
the place was considered quite able to resist any Whiteboy attack. But,
indeed, such an act of daring had never been anticipated. Who could
dream that those who dreaded the lion's paw would voluntarily rush into
his mouth?
Having arranged his men for the attack, Cussen did not long keep them
inactive. He gave the word, and a volley of slugs rattled against the
barrack windows. The alarm was as immediate as the attack was sudden.
The soldiers hastily snatched up their arms, hurried to the windows to
observe whence came the assault, and were "picked out" by the quick
sight and sure aim of the assailants, so that some were wounded in their
very sleeping-rooms. Moving before the lights in those apartments, the
soldiers were palpable objects to the armed men outside.
In a few minutes, the soldiers were arranged in the barrack-yard,
startled at the unexpected peril, and ready for defence. At that
instant, while awaiting the orders of their officer, a second volley was
fired upon them, and with fatal effect. The young subaltern on
duty--bewildered by the suddenness and manner of this attack--"lost his
head," as the saying is, and hurriedly gave the order to "Fire!"
Becoming rather accustomed to the darkness, the soldiers fancied that
they saw their assailants outside, partly concealed behind the _front_
wall. Each soldier aiming at what he imagined to be the head of an
enemy, a straggling peal of musketry followed. The soldiers shouted, and
were about re-loading, when, with fatal precision, a third shower of
slugs and ball, from the Whiteboys, did tremendous execution among them.
The beleaguered soldiers even then had not ascertained from what quarter
destruction was thus fiercely poured in upon them.
Notwithstanding, they bore themselves gallantly. Men who had faced
death, in its worst form, on the field of battle, a few years before,
were not likely to quail before such foes as they knew must now be
before them. The suspense was worse than the reality, for their
ignorance of the number and position of their assailants, caused doubts
more dreadful than would have been the actual knowledge of an
ascertained peril.
With as little delay as possible, but still only at a venture, the
soldiers fired a second time. Their fire was immediately returned. By
this time, six soldiers were killed, and ten lay severely wounded on the
ground. Their officer--a gallant youth who had been at school six months
before--was shocked and surprised at seeing his men thus dropping around
him, taken in a trap, as it were, and shot at like so many marks.
Feeling that it was madness to remain in their exposed situation, and
anxious to give his men a chance for their lives, he ordered them to
throw open the gates, and sally out to meet their enemies face to face,
and die--if die they must--in a contest of man to man and hand to hand.
Accordingly, the much-thinned military array, literally
"Few, and faint, but fearless still,"
divided itself--but the alarm and surprise were great when they found it
impossible to open either of the gates. In fact, aware that these gates
had been absurdly constructed and hung to open _out of_, instead of
_into_, the barrack-yard, and anticipating the attempt to pass through
them, Cussen had made one of his few preliminary preparations to
consist of the heaping huge masses of rock against them, so as to
prevent their being opened to allow egress to the besieged soldiers.
This disappointment drove the military to desperation. When another
volley from without struck down two more of them, the remnant of the
party were quite bewildered, and would have fled back into cover, on the
_sauve qui peut_ principle, if their officer, as a last resource, had
not ordered them to scale the walls, and boldly meet rather than
fearfully retreat from the imminent peril.
As with one impulse, rushing forward, they rapidly crossed the front
wall. Here was a new cause for wonder. They found that they had hitherto
been wasting their fire. Cussen, to baffle his opponents, had placed his
men behind each _side_ wall, while, as a decoy, he had made them put
their hats on that in _front_. Thus, while the fire of the Whiteboys was
masked, that of the military was thrown away upon the range of hats in
front, which were easily mistaken for men behind the parapet. It was a
clever strategy.
When the soldiers dashed over the barrack-wall, they discovered the
trick. The Whiteboys then rushed round from their concealment. A
struggle ensued. Both parties were highly infuriated--one with triumph,
the other with rage. The contest, though destructive, was not of many
minutes' continuance. Desperate as was the bravery of the soldiers, the
overpowering force and courage of their opponents were resistless. The
soldiers had no alternative but to demand quarter. At that word, Cussen
instantly gave orders that the contest should cease. Scarcely any of his
party had even been wounded, while, on the other side, the young officer
was the only one unharmed. The sergeant who had shot Sheehan (as related
in the first chapter) was mortally wounded, and lay in the barrack-yard,
writhing in agony.
By this time, the barrack had been set fire to, and the flames raged
fiercely. Dismayed, defeated, and surrounded by their opponents, the
soldiers were grouped together on one side. Some twenty or thirty
Whiteboys had gathered around the dying sergeant, watching his agonies
with fiendish joy. "In with him! in with him to the fire! Burn him--burn
the murderer alive!" were exclamations which burst from their lips, and
made the doomed man shudder as he heard. Cussen stood a little aloof
from all; one might have almost taken him for an unconcerned looker-on,
as he carelessly stood with his arms folded, a close-fitting skull-cap
of dark fur upon his head, and a narrow slip of crape concealing the
upper part of his face. When the Whiteboys seized the sergeant, with the
avowed intent of casting him into the flames, the young officer
addressed Cussen, and earnestly entreated him to prevent so dreadful a
deed. "My men have fallen," he said, "but I do not know why they were
attacked. For the love of heaven, do not allow this wretched man to
suffer such a death, in cold blood. Besides, he has a mortal wound. If
they want his death, a few hours, at the farthest, will gratify them. Do
not let him perish thus."
Cussen answered: "My men came here for revenge upon that man, and I can
scarcely prevent their taking it to the fullest. He deserves his death.
Blood for blood! When he shot an innocent, unoffending man, as if he
were a dog, he drew this vengeance on himself. Still, it need not be
pushed to the extremity they call for. A life for a life is all that can
reasonably be required. But--what cries are those?"
Turning round, he saw that the flames had now reached the stables in
which the horses of the dragoons were. The poor animals were driven
almost to madness by fear, and their dreadful cries came shrilly and
fearfully upon the ear, filling with awe the breasts of those wild men,
who, while human agony appealed in vain, shuddered at this painful
manifestation of deep suffering by the brute creation. Help was out of
the question, as the flames spread too rapidly for assistance to be
rendered. The poor animals were literally burned alive, amid the loudly
expressed pity of the beholders.
From this tragedy they turned to the wounded sergeant. He had breathed
his last while this scene had engaged their attention. They would not
be cheated out of their revenge. With a yell of triumph, they cast his
corpse into the flames, amid a thousand execrations.
They thus had accomplished their work. Cussen turned to the young
officer and said: "You are free; but you must pledge me your word that
if you have any personal knowledge of me, or think that you have, you
will never take advantage of it." This pledge the officer firmly
declined giving. Cussen paused for a few seconds, and replied that it
did not matter: he would draw off his men. Giving the word, they marched
off in good order--were soon out of sight, and the smoking ruins and
diminished force remained as evidence of that night's tale of ruin.