CHAPTER XVIII.--An Execution by Val's Blood-Hounds

Cruel Consequences of Phil's Plot Against Mary M'Loughlin--Dreadful

Determination of her Brothers--An Oath of Blood--Father Roche's

Knowledge of Nature--Interview Between Mary and her Brothers--Influence

and Triumph of Domestic Affection

The hellish and cowardly plot against Mary M'Loughlin's reputation, and

which the reader knows has already been planned and perpetrated by

Poll Doolin and Phil M'Clutchy, was, as such vile calumnies mostly are,

generally successful with the public. On her own immediate relations

and family, who knew her firmness, candor, purity of heart, and

self-respect, the foul slander had no effect whatsoever, at least in

shaking their confidence in her sense of honor and discretion. With the

greedy and brutal public, however, it was otherwise; and the discovery

of this fact, which reached them in a thousand ways, it was that filled

their hearts with such unparalleled distress, terrible agony, and that

expanding spirit of revenge which is never satisfied, until it closes

on him whose crime has given it birth. In truth,--and it is not to be

wondered at--as how almost could it be otherwise?--the diabolical and

cowardly crime of Phil M'Clutchy towards their sweet and unoffending

sister, had changed her three brothers from men into so many savage and

insatiable Frankensteins, resolved never to cease dogging his guilty

steps, until their vengeance had slaked its burning thirst in his

caitiff blood.

Immediately after the night of its occurrence, a change began to take

place in the conduct and deportment of their general acquaintances.

Visitors dropped off, some from actual delicacy, and an unaffected

compassion, and others from that shrinking fear of moral contagion,

which is always most loudly and severely expressed by the private sinner

and hypocrite. Their sister's conduct was, in fact, the topic of

general discussion throughout the parish, and we need not say that such

discussions usually were terminated--first in great compassion for the

poor girl, and then as their virtue warmed, in as earnest denunciations

of her guilt. To an indifferent person, however, without any prejudice

either for or against her, it was really impossible, considering the

satanic success with which the plot was managed, and the number of

witnesses actually present at its accomplishment, to consider Miss

M'Loughlin as free at least from gross and indefensible levity, and a

most unjustifiable relaxation of female prudence, at a period when it

was known she was actually engaged to another.

This certainly looked very suspicious, and we need scarcely say that a

cessation of all visits, intimacy, and correspondence, immediately took

place, on the part of female friends and acquaintances. In fact the

innocent victim of this dastardly plot was completely deserted, and the

little party of her friends was by no means a match for the large and

godly hosts who charitably combined to establish her guilt. Her father,

with all his manliness of character, and sterling integrity, was not

distressed on his daughter's account only. There was another cause of

anxiety to him equally deep--we mean the mysterious change that had come

over his sons, in consequence of this blasting calamity. He saw clearly

that they had come to the dark and stern determination of avenging their

sister's disgrace upon its author, and that at whatever risk. This in

truth to him was the greater affliction of the two, and he accordingly

addressed himself with all his authority and influence over them, to

the difficult task of plucking this frightful resolution out of their

hearts. In his attempt to execute this task, he found himself baffled

and obstructed by other circumstances of a very distracting nature.

First, there were the rascally paragraphs alluding to his embarrassments

on the one hand, and those which, while pretending to vindicate him and

his partner from any risk of bankruptcy, levelled the assassin's blow

at the reputation of his poor daughter, on the other. Both told; but

the first with an effect which no mere moral courage or consciousness

of integrity, however high, could enable him to meet. Creditors came in,

alarmed very naturally at the reports against his solvency, and

demanded settlement of their accounts from the firm. These, in the

first instances, were immediately made out and paid; but this would not

do--other claimants came, equally pressing--one after another--and

each so anxious in the early panic to secure himself, that ere long the

instability which, in the beginning, had no existence, was gradually

felt, and the firm of Harman and M'Loughlin felt themselves on the eve

of actual bankruptcy.

These matters all pressed heavily and bitterly on both father and sons.

But we have yet omitted to mention that which, amidst all the lights

in which the daughter contemplated the ruin of her fair fame, fell with

most desolating consequences upon her heart--we mean her rejection by

Harman, and the deliberate expression of his belief in her guilt. And,

indeed, when our readers remember how artfully the web of iniquity

was drawn around her, and the circumstances of mystery in which Harman

himself had witnessed her connection with Poll Doolin, whose character

for conducting intrigues he knew too well, they need not be surprised

that he threw her off as a deceitful and treacherous wanton, in whom

no man of a generous and honorable nature could or ought to place

confidence, and who was unworthy even of an explanation. Mary

M'Loughlin could have borne everything but this. Yes; the abandonment

of friends--of acquaintances--of a fickle world itself; but here it was

where her moral courage foiled her. The very hope to which her heart had

clung from its first early and innocent impulses--the man to whom she

looked up as the future guide, friend, and partner of her life, and for

whose sake and safety she had suffered herself to be brought within

the meshes of her enemies and his--this man, her betrothed husband, had

openly expressed his conviction of her being unfit to become his wife,

upon hearing from his cousin and namesake an account of what that young

man had witnessed. Something between a nervous and brain fever had

seized her on the very night of this heinous stratagem; but from that

she was gradually recovering when at length she heard, by accident, of

Harman's having unequivocally and finally withdrawn from the engagement.

Under this she sank. It was now in vain to attempt giving her support,

or cheering her spirits. Depression, debility, apathy, restlessness,

and all the symptoms of a breaking constitution and a broken heart,

soon began to set in and mark her for an early, and what was worse, an

ignominious grave. It was then that her brothers deemed it full time to

act. Their father, on the night before the day on which poor Raymond was

rescued from death, observed them secretly preparing firearms,--for they

had already, as the reader knows, satisfied themselves that M'Clutchy,

junior, would not fight--took an opportunity of securing their weapons

in a place where he knew they could not be found. This, however, was of

little avail--they told him it must and should be done, and that neither

he nor any other individual in existence should debar them from the

execution of their just, calm, and reasonable vengeance--for such were

their very words. In this situation matters were, when about eleven

o'clock the next morning, Father Roche, who, from the beginning, had

been there to aid and console, as was his wont, wherever calamity or

sorrow called upon him, made his appearance in the family, much to the

relief of M'Loughlin's mind, who dreaded the gloomy deed which his sons

had proposed to themselves to execute, and who knew besides, that in

this good and pious priest he had a powerful and eloquent ally. After

the first salutations had passed, M'Loughlin asked for a private

interview with him; and when they had remained about a quarter of an

hour together, the three sons were sent for, all of whom entered with

silent and sullen resolution strongly impressed on their stern, pale,

and immovable features. Father Roche himself was startled even into

something like terror, when he witnessed this most extraordinary change

in the whole bearing and deportment of the young men, whom he had always

known so buoyant and open-hearted.

“My dear young friends,” said he, calmly and affectionately, “your

father has just disclosed to me a circumstance, to which, did it not

proceed from his lips, I could not yield credit. Is it true that

you have come to the most unchristian and frightful determination of

shedding blood?”

“Call it just and righteous,” said John, calmly.

“Yes,” followed the other two, “it is both.”

“In his cowardly crime he has evaded the responsibility of law,”

continued John, “and we care not if his punishment goes beyond law

itself. We will answer for it with our lives--but in the mean time, he

must die.”

“You see, Father Roche,” observed M'Loughlin, “to what a hardened state

the strong temptations of the devil has brought them.”

“It is not that,” said John; “it is affection for our injured sister,

whom he has doubly murdered--it is also hatred of himself, and of the

oppression we are receiving in so many shapes at his hands. He must

die.”

“Yes,” repeated the two brothers, “he must die, it is now too late.”

“Ha!” said the priest, “I understand you; there is an oath here.”

The three brothers smiled, but spoke not.

“Are ye my sons?” said the father, in tears, “and will you, who were

ever obedient and dutiful, disregard me now?”

“In this one thing we must,” said John “we know you not now as our

father. Am I right?” said he, addressing his brothers.

“You are right,” they replied, “in this thing he is not our father.”

“Great God!” said the priest, trembling with absolute dread at a scene

so different from any he had ever witnessed, “Merciful Father, hear our

prayers, and drive the evil spirits of vengeance and blood out of the

hearts of these wicked men!”

“Amen!” said their father, “and rescue them from the strong temptations

of the devil which are in them and upon them. Why do you not even pray

to God--”

“--For strength to do it--we did, and we do,” said John, interrupting

him.

Father Roche looked at them, and there they stood, pale, silent, and

with a smile upon their lips which filled him with a description of

awe and fear that was new to him. Their father was little better; the

perspiration stood on his brow, and as he looked at them, he at times

began to doubt their very identity, and to believe that the whole

interview might be a phantasma, or a hideous dream.

“You have sworn an oath,” said the priest. “Rash and sinful men, you

dared blasphemously to take, as it were, the Almighty into a league of

blood! Do you not know that the creature you are about to slay is the

work of your Creator, even as you are yourselves, and what power

have you over his life? I see, I see,” he added, “you have taken a

sacrilegious oath of blood!”

“We have taken an oath of blood,” said they, “and we will keep it.”

“But is this just to your sister?” said the priest; “do you believe in

the justice of an Almighty Providence? Is there no probability that, if

this man lives, circumstances may come to light by which her fair and

spotless character may be vindicated to the world? On the contrary,

should you now take his life, you prevent any such possibility from ever

happening; and your own rashness and ungodly crime, will be the means of

sending her name down to posterity, foul and spotted with the imputation

of woman's worst guilt. Is that love for your sister?”

Father Roche now began to see that he must argue with their passions--or

with that strong affection for their sister, upon which these

fearful passions were founded--rather than with their reason or their

prejudices, which, in point of fact were now immovably set in the dark

determination of crime.

“Do you forget,” he added, “that there are laws in the country to

pursue and overtake the murderer? Do you forget that you will die an

ignominious death, and that, instead of acting an honorable part in

life, as becomes your ancient and noble name, you will bequeath nothing

to your parents but an inheritance of shame and infamy?”

“We have thought of all this before,” said John.

“No, not all,” said the youngest; “not all, but nearly.”

“Well, nearly,” said the other.

“Then,” said the priest, “you will not hesitate to renounce your most

foul and diabolical intention?”

“We have sworn it,” said John, “and it must be done.” To this the others

calmly assented.

“Well, then,” said the earnest Christian, “since you fear neither

disgrace, nor shame, nor the force of human laws, nor the dread of human

punishment, you are not so hardened as to bid defiance to the Almighty,

by whom you will be judged. Has he not said, 'thou shalt do no murder?

and that whoso sheddeth blood, by man shall his blood be shed.' I now

ask you,” said he, “as one of the humblest of his accredited messengers,

do you believe in God and fear him?”

“We are sworn,” said John; “the blood of him who has dishonored our

sister's name we will shed, and it is neither priest nor parent who will

or shall prevent us.”

“Is not a rash and unlawful oath a crime?” said Father Roche: “yes, and

you know it is better broken than kept. I call upon you now, as your

spiritual guide, to renounce that blasphemous oath of blood, and in the

name of the Almighty and all powerful God, I command you to do it.”

“We deny your right to interfere,” replied John, “we are not now at

confession--keep within your limits; for as sure as there is death and

Judgment, so sure as we will fulfil our oath in avenging the disgrace of

our sister. That ends all, and we will speak no more.”

The good old man began to fear that he should be put to the most painful

necessity of lodging informations before a magistrate, and thus become

the means of bringing' disgrace and evil upon the family when it

occurred to him to ask them a last question.

“My dear young men,” said he, “I have forgotten, in the agitation of

mind occasioned by the unprecedented disclosure of your evil and wilful

intentions, to ask, if you so far renounce God as to refuse to worship

him. Kneel down, and let us pray.” He himself and their father knelt,

but the three brothers stood as sullen and immovable as before. Tho

priest uttered a short prayer, but their conduct so completely

perplexed and shocked him, that he rose up, and with tears in his eyes,

exclaimed--

“I am now an old man, and have witnessed many instances of error, and

sin, and deep crime, but never before have I seen in persons of your

early years, such instances--such awful, terrible instances--of that

impenitence in which the heart, setting aside God and his sacred

ordinances, is given over to the hardness of final reprobation. I can do

no more, as the ambassador of Christ, but I must not stand by and see a

fellow-creature--oh! thank God,” he exclaimed, “a thought recurs to my

mind which had for a time passed out of it. My good friend,” he said,

addressing old M'Loughlin, “will you bring Mary in, if she is able to

come--say I request to see her here.”

“We will go now,” said the eldest, “you can want us no longer.”

“You shall not go,” replied Father Roche firmly, “if you are men,

stay--or, if cowards, who are afraid to look into the depths of your

own dark designs, you will and may go--we want you not.” This language

perplexed them, but they stood as before, and moved not.

In a few minutes Mary came in, leaning on her father's arm; but, ah!

what a change from the elegant outline and clear, healthy cheek--from

the red plump lips, and dark mellow eyes, which carried fascination

in every glance and grace in every motion! Sweet, and beautiful, and

interesting, she still unquestionably was, but her pale cheek, languid

eye, and low tremulous voice, told a tale, which, when the cause of it

was reflected on, had literally scorched up out of her brother's hearts

every remaining vestige of humanity.

“Mary,” said the priest, we have requested your presence, my child, for

a most important purpose--and, in communicating that purpose to you, we

indeed give the strongest proof of our confidence in your firmness and

good sense--nay, I will add, in the truth and fervor of your dependence

on the sustaining power of religion.”

“In my own strength or discretion I will never depend more,” she

replied, sighing deeply.

“You must exert great courage and firmness now, then,” rejoined Father

Roche; “In the first place, you are about to have a disclosure made

which will be apt to shock you; and, in the next place, I have only to

say, that it is the absolute necessity of your knowing it, in order to

prevent dreadful consequences from ensuing upon it, that forces us to

make you cognizant of it at all.”

“I trust I shall endeavor at least to bear it,” she returned; “I am

not strong, and I do not think that too much preparation will add to my

strength.”

“I agree with you, my child,” said Father Roche, “and have only made

such as I deemed indispensably necessary. The fact then is, my poor

girl, that your brothers meditate violence against that most base and

wicked person who--”

“I know, sir, the person to whom you allude; but I will thank you, if

you can avoid it, not to name him.”

“I have no such intention,” replied the good man, “but bad and

profligate as he is, it is still worse that your three brothers should

propose such violence.”

“But what do you mean by violence--of course violence of any description

is beneath them. Surely,--John, you would not stoop--”

She looked at them as she spoke, and, as before, there was no mistaking

the meaning of the cold and deadly smile which lay upon their lips, and

contrasted so strongly and strangely with their kindling eyes.

“What fearful expression is this,” she asked, with evident terror and

trepidation; “my dear brothers, what does this mean?--that is, if you

be my brothers, for I can scarcely recognize you--what is it, in the

name of heaven?”

The brothers looked at her, but spoke not, nor moved.

“They have taken an oath, Mary, to wipe out your shame in his blood,”

added the priest.

She immediately rose up without aid, and approached them.

“This is not true, my dear brothers,” said she, “this cannot be

true--deny it for your sister.”

“We cannot deny it, Mary,” said John, “for it is true, and must be

done--our vengeance is ripe, hot, burning, and will wait no longer.”

“John,” said she, calmly, “recollect 'vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,

and I will repay it.'”

“I told them so,” said their father, “but I receive no attention at

their hands.”

“Vengeance is ours,” said John, in a deeper and more determined voice

than he had ever uttered, “vengeance is ours, and we shall repay it.”

The others repeated his words as before.

“Obstinate and unhappy young men,” said the priest, “you know not, or

you forget, that this is blasphemy.”

“This, my dear sir,” observed their sister, getting still more

deadly,pale than before, “is not blasphemy, it is insanity--my three

brothers are insane; that is it. Relieve me, John,” said she, recovering

herself, “and say it is so.”

“If we were insane, Mary,” replied her brother, calmly, “our words would

go for nothing.”

“But, is it not a dreadful thing,” she continued, “that I should be glad

of such an alternative?”

“Mary,” said the priest, “ask them to pray; they refused to join me and

their father, perhaps you may be more successful.”

“They will certainly pray,” said she; “I never knew them to omit it

a night, much less refuse it. Surely they will join their poor sister

Mary, who will not long--” She hesitated from motives which the reader

can understand, but immediately knelt down to prayer.

During prayer the three brothers stood and knelt not, neither did they

speak. When prayers were concluded, she arose, and with tears in her

eyes, approached her eldest-brother.

“John,” said she, “can it be that the brother of Mary M'Loughlin is an

assassin? I will answer for you,” she said. “Kiss me, for I am weak and

feeble, and must go to bed.”

“I cannot kiss you,” he replied; “I can never kiss you more, Mary--for

it must be--done.”

The tears still streamed copiously down her cheeks, as they did down

those of her father and the amiable priest. The latter, who never took

his eye off her, was praying; incessantly, as might be seen by the

motion, of his lips.

“Alick,” she proceeded, turning to her second brother, “surely won't

refuse to kiss and embrace his only sister, before she withdraws for the

day.”

“I cannot kiss you, my pure sister; I can never kiss you more. We have

sworn, and it must be done.”

“I thought I had brothers,” said she, “but I find I am now

brotherless--yet perhaps not altogether so. I had once a young,

generous, innocent, and very affectionate playfellow. It was known

that I loved him--that we all loved him best. Will he desert his loving

sister, now that the world has done so? or will he allow her to kiss,

him, and to pray that the darkness of guilt may never overshadow his

young and generous spirit. Bryan,” she added, “I am Mary, your sister,

whom you loved--and surely you are my own dearest brother.”

Whilst she uttered the words, the tears: which flowed from her eyes

fell upon his face. He looked at her pale features, so full of love and

tenderness--the muscles of his face worked strongly; but at length, with

a loud cry, he threw himself over, caught her in his arms, and laying

her head upon his bosom, wept aloud. The evil spell was now broken.

Neither John nor Alick could resist the contagion of tenderness

which their beloved sister shed into their hearts. Their tears

flowed fast--their caresses were added to those of Brian; and as they

penitently embraced her, they retracted their awful oath, and promised

never again to think of violence, revenge, or bloodshed.

Thus did the force and purity of domestic affection charm back into

their hearts the very spirit which its own excess had before driven

out of it;--and thus it is that many a triumph over crime is won by

the tenderness and strength of that affection, when neither reason,

nor religion, nor any other principle that we are acquainted with,

can succeed in leading captive the fearful purposes of resentment and

revenge.

“Now,” said Father Eoche, “we have still a, duty to perform, and that

is, to return thanks to Almighty God for the dark and deadly crime, and

the woeful sorrow, which, by his grace and mercy, he has averted from

this family; and I think we may take this blessing--for such surely it

is--as an earnest hope that the same Divine hand, which has put aside

this impending calamity from us, may, and will, in his own good time,

remove the other afflictions which the enmity and wickedness of evil

hearts, and evil councils have brought upon us; but especially let us

kneel and return thanks for the great and happy change which, through

the humility and affection of one of us, has been wrought upon the

rest.”

He then knelt down, and on this occasion the iron sinews of these young

men became soft, and were bent in remorse, sorrow, repentance. The pious

priest prayed fervently and humbly, and as his tears fell fast, in the

trusting sincerity of his heart and the meek earnestness of his

spirit, it is almost unnecessary to say, that those of his little flock

accompanied him. The brothers wept bitterly, for the rocky heart of each

had been touched, and religion completed the triumph which affection had

begun.

Such had been the situation of this family on the day alluded to by

Mr. Easel, who could not, of course, have had any means of becoming

acquainted with them, but as we felt that the incidents were necessary

to give fulness to his narrative, we did not hesitate to introduce them

here, where a knowledge of them was so necessary. We now allow Mr. Easel

himself to resume his narrative.

“This venerable pastor,” continues Mr. Easel, “is a thin, pale man, but,

evidently, in consequence of temperance and moderation in his general

habits of living, a healthy one. He cannot be less than seventy, but the

singular clearness of his complexion, and the steady lustre of his

gray eye, lead you to suppose that he is scarcely that. He is tall and

without stoop, and, from the intellectual character of his high and

benevolent forehead, added to the mildness of his other features, and

his whole face, he presented, I must say, a very striking combination of

dignity and meekness. His dress is plain, and nothing can be more fine

and impressive than the contrast between his simple black apparel, and

the long flowing snow-white hair which falls over it. His holy zeal as

a Christian minister, unobscured by secular feelings, or an unbecoming

participation in the angry turmoils of political life, possessed all

the simple beauty of pure and primitive piety. Father Roche received

his education on the Continent, in several parts of which he has held

ecclesiastical appointments, one being the Presidency of an Irish

College. He consequently speaks most, if not all, of the continental

languages; but so utterly free from display, and so simple are his

manners, that you would not on a first interview, no, nor on a second,

ever suppose the man to be what he is--a most accomplished scholar and

divine. In one thing, however, you never could be mistaken--that his

manners, with all their simplicity, are those of a gentleman, possessing

as they do, all the ease, and, when he chooses, the elegance of a man

who has moved in high and polished society. He has only been a few

years in Ireland. After a glass of wine and some desultory conversation

touching public events and the state of this unfortunate and unsettled

country, upon all of which he spoke with singular good temper and

moderation, we went to see the manufactory, now that I had recovered

from my fatigue. This building is two or three hundred yards from the

house, and as we were on our way there, it so happened that he and I

found ourselves together, and at some distance from M'Loughlin and his

sons.

“'You were introduced, sir,' said he, 'to me as Mr. Easel.'

“I bowed.

“'I am not inquisitive,' he added with a smile, 'because in this case I

do not find it necessary; but I am candid.'

“I began to feel slightly uneasy, so I only bowed again, but could say

nothing.

“'I have met you on the continent.'

“'It is quite possible,' I replied, 'I have been there.'

“He laid his finger on my shoulder, and added still with a gentle and

significant smile, 'I am in possession of your secret, and I say so, to

take you merely as far as I am concerned, out of a false, and myself

out of a somewhat painful position. It would be embarrassing to me, for

instance, to meet and treat you as that which you are not, knowing as

I do what you are; and it will relieve you from the difficulty of

sustaining a part that is not your own, at least so far as I am

concerned.'

“'I certainly perceive,' I replied, 'that you are in possession of that,

which in this country, I thought known only to myself and another.'

“'Your secret,' he said emphatically, 'shall be inviolable.'

“'I feel it, my good sir,' I replied, 'and now, let me ask, on what part

of the continent did we meet?'

“Let it suffice to say here, that he brought himself distinctly to my

memory, through the medium of a very kind office performed for a

friend of mine, who, at the time, stood in circumstances not only of

difficulty, but of considerable personal danger.

“Having viewed the manufactory, which is somewhat of a novelty in this

immediate locality, we were about to take our leave, when four men,

evidently strangers, and each remarkable for that hardened and insolent

look which begets suspicion at a glance, now entered the concern with an

air of ruffian authority, and with all the offensive forms of which the

law is capable, laid on an execution, to the amount of fourteen hundred

pounds.

“Old M'Loughlin received the intelligence, and witnessed the

proceedings, with a smile, in which there was something that struck me

as being peculiarly manly and independent.

“'This,' said he, 'although coming from a quarter that I deemed to be

friendly, is the heaviest blow, connected with our business, that we

have received yet. Still, gentlemen,' he proceeded, addressing

Father Roche and myself, 'I trust it won't signify--a mere passing

embarrassment. This manufactory, as you may perceive, complete through

all its machinery, which is of the very best and costliest description,

together with the property in it, is worth five times the amount of the

execution.'

“'Yes, but you forget,' replied the leading ruffian, 'that property

under an execution isn't to be judged by its real value. In general it

doesn't bring one-tenth, no, nor one-fifteenth of its true value, when

auctioned out, as it will be, under a writ.'

“'Ay, by Jabers,' said another of them, 'an' what's better still, you

forget that your lease is expired, and that Lord Cumber has sent over

word for you not to get a renewal--nor Harman either.'

“'Is this true?' I inquired of Father Roche; 'do you imagine it to be

possible?'

“'That fellow is bad authority for anything,' he replied, 'but I fear

that in this Point, he is too correct. However, let us ask M'Loughlin

himself, who, certainly, has the best right to know.'

“This I resolved on, not because I was ignorant of the fact, which

you know I had from M'Clutchy himself, but that I might ascertain that

gentleman's mode of transacting business, and his fairness towards Lord

Cumber's tenants.

“'What this man says, Mr. M'Loughlin, surely cannot be possible--does he

mean to assert that Lord Cumber refused to renew your lease, although

he must be aware that you have expended in the erection of this fine

manufactory a sum not less, I should suppose, than five or six thousand

pounds.'

“'Seven thousand six hundred,' replied the old man, setting me right,

'nearly four thousand between Harman and us.'

“'But he does not refuse to renew your leases certainly?'

“'No,' said M'Loughlin, 'I cannot say that he does; but we have not been

able to get anything like a distinct reply from him on the subject--and,

as far as reports go, they are certainly not in our favor. We have

written to Lord Cumber himself, and the only reply we could obtain was,

that he had placed the whole matter in the hands of M'Clutchy, in whose

justice and integrity, he said, he had the highest confidence, and that

consequently we must abide by his decision. My own impression is, that

he is determined to ruin us, which he certainly will, should he refuse

us a renewal.'

“'There can be no doubt about it,' said the eldest son, 'nor that his

management of the estate and his general administration of justice are

woefully one-sided.'

“'I don't choose to hear Mr. M'Clutchy abused,' said the leading fellow,

who, in truth, was one of his blood-hounds, as were all the rest, with

one exception only, 'nor I won't hear him abused. You wouldn't have

him show the same favor to Papists that he would show to good, honest

Protestants, that are staunch and. loyal to Church and State--by Jabers,

that would be nice work! Do you think a man's not to show favor to his

own side, either as a magistrate or agent?--faith that's good!'

“'And I'll tell you more,' said another of them, addressing John

M'Loughlin, 'do you think, that if he dared to put Papishes on a level

with us, that we'd suffer it? By Gog, you're out of it if you do--we

know a horse of another color, my buck.'

“'To whom do you address such insolent language as this?' asked the

young man, 'you are here in execution of your duty, and you had better

confine yourself to that.'

“'To you, my buck, I address it, and to any Papish that doesn't like

it--and if I'm here to discharge my duty, I'll discharge it,' and he

shook his head with insolence as he spoke; 'an' what's more, I'm

afeard of no man--and I'll discharge my duty as I like, that's another

thing--as I like to discharge it. Ha! d--n me, I'm not to be put down by

a parcel of Priests and Papishes, if they were ten times as bad as they

are.'

“'You are a low ruffian,' replied the young man, 'far beneath my

resentment or my notice; and it is precisely such scoundrels as

you, ignorant and brutal, who bring shame and infamy upon religion

itself--and are a multiplied curse to the country.'

“'Very well, my buck,' persisted this ferocious bigot, 'may be the day

will come when we'll make you remember this traisen, and swally it too.

How would you like to get a touch of the wreckers, my buck?--an' by

Jabers, take care that you're not in for a lick. A lease! d--n me but

it would be a nice thing to give the like o' you a lease! None o' your

sort, my buck, will get that trick, so long as loyal M'Clutchy's on the

property.'

“Father Roche having taken the young man's arm, led him away; wishing

to avoid any further altercation with such persons, and immediately

afterwards they set about completing an inventory of all the property,

machinery, etc., in the establishment.

“'There was one expression used by that man,' I observed, when we

got out again upon the Castle Cumber road, 'which I do not properly

understand; it was, 'how should you like to get a touch of the

wreckers?'

“'The wreckers, sir,' replied old M'Loughlin, 'are a set of men such as

that fellow we have just been speaking to--brimful of venom and hatred

against Catholics and their religion. Their creed consists of two

principles, one of which I have just mentioned, that is, hatred of

us; the other is a blind attachment to the Orange system. These two

combined, constitute a loyalist of the present day; and with such

impressions operating upon a large mass of men like the fellow inside,

who belong to an ascendant party, and are permitted to carry arms and

ammunition wherever they like, either to search your house or mine,

on the most frivolous pretences, it is not surprising that the country

should be as it is; but it is surprising, that exposed as we are to such

men, without adequate protection, we should possess any attachment at

all to the throne and, constitution of these realms; or to a government

which not only suffers such a state of things to exist, but either

connives at or encourages it. For instance, it was the exhibition of

such principles as you have heard that man avow, that got him and those

who accompany him their appointments; for, I am sorry to say, that there

is no such successful recommendation as this violent party! spirit, even

to situations of the very lowest class. The highest are generally held

by Orangemen, and it is attachment to their system that constitutes

the only passport now-a-days to every office in the country, from the

secretary to the scavenger.'

“This, I fear, is rather an overtime account of the state of things in

the portion of Ireland from which I write; but, whilst I admit this,

I am far from saying that the faults are all on one side. There are

prejudices equally ferocious, and quite as senseless and ignorant, on

the part of the Roman Catholic party--prejudices resulting sometimes

from education, and sometimes from the want of it; but, which certainly

contribute their full share to the almost disorganized state of society

by which I am surrounded.”

From the same to the same in continuation.

“May 10, 18--. My dear Spinageberd---Feeling, as I did, exceedingly

anxious to make myself acquainted with the true principles of the Orange

institutions which have spread themselves so rapidly over the country, I

need scarcely say to you that I left nothing that was fair and honorable

undone, on my part, to accomplish that object; or, in other words,

to ascertain whether their private principles, as a political body,

harmonize with their public practices. It is but fair to render justice

to every party, and consequently it is only right and equitable to

inquire whether the violent outrages committed by the low and ignorant

men who belong to their body, are defensible by the regulations which

are laid down for their guidance.

“On looking over the general declaration of the objects of the

institution, one is certainly struck by the fairness, and liberality,

and moderation, joined to a becoming avowal of attachment to the

Protestant religion and the throne, which it breathes. Here, however,

it is, _verbatim et literatim_, in its authentic shape, with all that is

good or evil in it laid clearly before you. I deem it right, however, to

preface it by the greater portion of a short but significant Report, to

which are prefixed the following memorable names:--

“'At a meeting of the Grand Orange Lodge of Ireland, November 29, 1798.

Present:--Thomas Verner, Grand Master; J. C. Beresford, grand secretary;

R. C. Smith, jun., deputy secretary; H. A. Woodward; J. S. Rochfort; T.

F. Knipe; Samuel Montgomery; Harding Giffard; William Richardson; John

Fisher; William Corbett; W. G. Galway; Francis Gregory. Harding Giffard

and S. Montgomery, Esqrs., reported as follows:--

“'Having been honored by the Grand Lodge with instructions to revise and

select a proper system of rules, for the government of Orange Lodges, we

beg leave to make a report of our progress.

“'We are happy in being able to say, that in our duty upon this

occasion, we received the greatest assistance from the experience of the

Grand Master of Ireland, and his Deputy Grand Secretary, who did us the

honor of imparting to us their sentiments.

“'Encouraged by their help, we have ventured very materially to alter

the shape of the confused system which was referred to us preserving the

spirit, and, as much as possible, the original words, except where we

had to encounter gross violations of language and grammar.

“'The general, plan of our proceeding has been this, we have thrown what

are, in our opinion, very improperly called the six first general rules,

into one plain short declaration of the sentiments of the body.

“'Next in order we have given the qualifications of an Orangeman,

selected from the Antrim regulations, and the rather, as it breathes

a spirit of piety which cannot be too generally diffused throughout an

institution, whose chief object, whatever political shape it may assume,

is to preserve the Protestant Religion. ******

“'Samuel Montgomery, “'Henby Giffard. '“Nov. 20, 1798.”

GENERAL DECLARATION OF THE OBJECTS OF THE ORANGE INSTITUTION.

“'We associate, to the utmost of our power, to support and defend

his Majesty King George the Third, the constitution and laws of this

country, and the succession to the Throne in his Majesty's illustrious

house, being Protestants; for the defence of our persons and properties;

and to maintain the peace of the country; and _for these purposes to we

will be at all times ready to assist the civil and, military powers in

the just and lawful discharge of their duty_. We also associate in honor

of King William the Third, Prince of Orange, whose name we bear,

as supporters of his glorious memory, and the true religion by him

completely established in these kingdoms. And in order to prove our

gratitude and affection for his name, we will annually celebrate the

victory over James at the Boyne, on the first day of July, O.S., in

every year, which day shall be our grand Era for ever.

We further declare that we are exclusively a Protestant Association;

yet, detesting as we do, any intolerant spirit, we solemnly pledge

ourselves to each other, _that we will not persecute, injure, or upbraid

any person on account of his religious opinions, PROVIDED THE SAME BE

NOT HOSTILE TO THE STATE_; but that we will, on the contrary, be aiding

and assisting' to every loyal subject, of every religious description,

in protecting him from violence and oppression.

Qualifications requisite for an Orangeman.

“'He should have a sincere love and veneration for his Almighty Maker,

productive of those lively and happy fruits, righteousness and obedience

to his commands; a firm and steadfast faith in the Saviour of the world,

convinced that he is the only mediator between a sinful creature and an

offended Creator--without these he cannot be a Christian; of a humane

and compassionate disposition, and a courteous and affable behavior. He

should be an utter enemy to savage brutality and unchristian cruelty; a

lover of society and improving company; and have a laudable regard for

the Protestant religion, and a sincere desire to propagate its precepts;

zealous in promoting the honor, happiness, and prosperity of his king

and country; heartily desirous of victory and success in those pursuits,

yet convinced and assured that God alone can grant them. He should have

a hatred of cursing and swearing, and taking the name of God in vain (a

shameful practice), and he should use all opportunities of discouraging

it among his brethren. Wisdom and prudence should guide his

actions--honesty and integrity direct his conduct--and the honor and

glory of his king and country be the motives of his endeavors--lastly,

he should pay the strictest attention to a religious observance of the

Sabbath, and also to temperance and sobriety.

Obligation of an Orangeman.

“I, A. B., do solemnly and sincerely swear, of my own free will and

accord, that I will, to the utmost of my power, support and defend the

present king, George III., his heirs and successors, so long as he or

they support the Protestant ascendancy, the constitution, and laws

of these kingdoms; and that I will ever hold sacred the name of our

glorious deliverer, William III., prince of Orange; and I do further

swear, that I am not, nor ever was, a Roman Catholic or Papist; that I

was not, am not, nor ever will be, a United Irishman, and that I never

took the oath of secrecy to that, or any other treasonable society; and

I do further swear, in the presence of Almighty God, that I will always

conceal, and never will reveal, either part or parts of what is now to

be privately communicated to me, until I shall be authorized so to do

by the proper authorities of the Orange institution; that I will neither

write it, nor indite it, stamp, stain, or engrave it, nor cause it so to

be done, on paper, parchment, leaf, bark, stick, or stone, or anything,

so that it may be known; and I do further swear, that I have not, to my

knowledge or belief, been proposed and rejected in, or expelled from

any other Orange Lodge; and that I now become an Orangeman without fear,

bribery, or corruption.

“'SO HELP ME GOD.'

Secret Articles.

“'1st. That we will bear true allegiance to his majesty, king George

III., his heirs and successors, so long as he or they support the

Protestant ascendancy and that we will faithfully support and maintain

the laws and constitution of these kingdoms.

“'2d. That we will be true to all Orangemen in all just actions,

neither wronging one, nor seeing him wronged to our knowledge, without

acquainting him thereof.

'“3d. That we are not to see a brother offended for sixpence or one

shilling, or more, if convenient, which must be returned next meeting if

possible.

“'4th. We must not give the first assault to any person whatever; that

may bring a brother into trouble.

“'5th. We are not to carry away money, goods, or anything from any

person whatever, except arms and ammunition, and those only from an

enemy.

“'6th. We are to appear in ten hours' warning, or whatever time is

required, if possible (provided it is not hurtful to ourselves or

families, and that we are served with a lawful summons from the master),

otherwise we are fined as the company think proper.

“'7th. No man can be made an Orangeman without the unanimous approbation

of the body.

“'8th. An Orangeman is to keep a brother's secrets as his own, unless in

case of murder, treason, and perjury; and that of his own free will.

“'9th. No Roman Catholic can be admitted on any account.

“'10th. Any Orangeman who acts contrary to these rules shall be

expelled, and the same reported to all the Lodges in the kingdom and

elsewhere.

“'GOD SAVE THE KING.'

“Among the Secret Articles are the following, which, by the way, are

pretty significant, when properly understood:--

“'4th--We must not give the first assault to any person whatever; that

might bring a brother into trouble.'

“'5th--We are not to carry away money, goods, or anything from any

person whatever, except arms and ammunition, and those only from an

enemy.'

“'6th--We are to appear in ten hours' warning, or whatever time is

required, if possible, (provided it is not hurtful to ourselves or

families, and that we are served with a lawful summons from the master),

otherwise we are fined as the company think proper.'

“The Marksman's obligation is merely a repetition of the same

description of allegiance to the king, his heirs, and successors, so

long as he or they maintain the Protestant ascendancy, &c, &c, together

with such other obligations of secrecy as are to be found either in

Orange or Ribbon Lodges, with very slight difference in their form and

expression.

“Now, my dear Spinageberd, I first call your attention to that portion

which is headed 'Qualifications necessary for an Orangeman;' and I think

you will agree with me that it would be difficult, almost impossible, to

find in any organized society, whether open or secret, a more formidable

code of qualifications for such as may be anxious to enroll themselves

amongst its members. And I have no doubt, that had the other portions of

it been conceived and acted on in the same spirit, Orangeism would

have become a very different system from that which under its name

now influences the principles, and inflames the passions of the lower

classes of Protestants, and stimulates them too frequently to violence,

and outrage, and persecution itself, under a conviction that they

are only discharging their duties by a faithful adherence to its

obligations. These obligations, however, admirable as they are and

ably drawn up, possess neither power nor influence in the system, being

nothing more nor less than an abstract series of religious and moral

duties recommended to practice, but stript of any force of obligation

that might impress them on the heart and principles. They are not

embodied at all in the code in any shape or form that might touch the

conscience or regulate the conduct, but on the contrary, stand there as

a thing to look at and admire, but not as a matter of duty. If they had

been even drawn up as a solemn declaration, asserting on the part of the

newly made member, a conviction that strict observance of their precepts

was an indispensable and necessary part of his obligations as an

Orangeman, they might have been productive of good effect, and raised

the practices of the institution from many of the low and gross

atrocities which disgraced it. I cannot deny, however, that Orangeism,

with all its crimes and outrages, has rendered very important services

to the political Protestantism of the country. In fact, it was produced

at the period of its formation by the almost utter absence of spiritual

religion in the Established Church. Some principle was necessary to keep

Protestantism from falling to pieces, and as a good one could not be

found in a church which is at this moment one mass of sordid and selfish

secularity,* there was nothing left for it but a combination such

as this. Indeed, you could form no conception of the state of the

Protestant Church here, even while I write, although you might form

a very gorgeous one of the Establishment. The truth is she is all

Establishment and no Church; and is, to quote Swift's celebrated

simile--

“Like a fat corpse upon a bed,

That rots and stinks in state.”

* Let the reader remember that this, and almost everything

that refers to the Irish Establishment, is supposed to have

been written about forty years ago.

“There was no purifying or restraining power in the Establishment to

modify, improve, or elevate the principles of Orangeism at all. And what

has been the consequence? Why, that in attempting to infuse her spirit

into the new system she was overmatched herself, and instead of making

Orangeism Christian, the institution has made her Orange. This is fact.

The only thing we have here now in the shape of a Church is the Orange

system, for if you take that away what remains?

“This, my dear Spinageberd, is not to be wondered at; for no effects are

without their causes. In this country nobody ever dreams of entering the

Established Church, from pure and pious motives. In such a Church piety

may be corrupted, but it is seldom rewarded. No, the description of

persons who now enter the Church are the younger sons of our nobility

and gentry, of our squires, our dignitaries, and wealthy professional

men; of our judges, generals, our deans, and our bishops. Among the sons

of such men the Church is carved out, with the exception of the chines,

and sirloins, and other best joints, all of which are devoured by

peculiar description of Englishmen, named Bishops, who are remarkable

for excessively long claws and very shark-like teeth. In this, however,

we do not blame England, but agree with Dean Swift who asserted, that in

his day, she uniformly selected the most unassuming, learned and pious

individuals she could get; fitted them out as became such excellent

Christian men, and sent them over with the best intentions imaginable,

to instruct the Irish in all Christian truth and humility. It so

happened, however, that as soon as they had reached Hounslow Heath, they

were every man, without exception, stopped, stripped, and robbed, by

the gentlemen who frequent that celebrated locality; who, thinking that

robbery on the high Church was safer and more lucrative than robbery

upon the highway, came over here instead of pious men, where they

remained in their original capacity for the remainder of their lives.

“It is impossible, in fact, that a Church so deeply infected with

political corruption, so shamefully neglected in all that is spiritual

and regenerative, and so openly prostituted to intrigue and ambition,

can ever work with that high and holy efficacy which should characterize

her. These, however, are not her purposes, nor are they aimed at. She

exists here merely as an unholy bond between the political interests

of the two countries, maintaining British authority by her wealth, and

corrupting Irish honesty by her example. I have already enumerated the

class of persons who enter her, and touched upon the motives by which

they are influenced. In large families, for instance, if there happen

to be a young fellow either too idle, or too stupid for the labor and

duties of the other professions, there is no inconvenience or regret

felt. No matter--he Dick, or Jack, or Tom, as the case may be, will do

very well for the Church. 'You will make a very good parson, Tom--or a

Dean--or a-----no hang it, there I must stop, I was about to say Bishop,

but not being an Englishman, you cannot carve that dish, Dick. Never

mind--you can feed upon a fat living--or if one won't do--why, we must

see and get you a pair of them, Bill.'

“But this, my dear Spinageberd, is not all. You will be surprised, when

I tell you, that there is no system of education necessary for entering

into orders. No system, I repeat--properly so called--either Scriptural

or Ecclesiastical. Some few divinity lectures are to be attended, which

in general are neither well attended--nor worth attending--and that, I

believe, is all. One thing is certain, that the getting certificates of

attendance for these lectures is a mere form, as is the examination for

orders. The consequence is, that a young candidate for a living goes

into the Church burthened with very little of that lore which might

spoil his appetite for its enjoyment; so harmoniously does everything

here work together for the good of the pastors at the expense of the

people.

“I think I have shown you that there is little in the Church of Ireland

that is likely to regulate or purify the spirit of Orangeism when coming

in contact with itself. That it had little to gain from the Church in

a spiritual way, and that the Church is not fulfilling the ends of

her establishment here in any sense, is evident from the Report in the

little work from which I have taken these extracts. In that passage

it would appear that the very existence of a Church is forgotten

altogether; for Orangeism is termed 'an institution, whose chief

object--whatever political shape it may assume--is to preserve the

Protestant religion.' I will now, before I close this batch, direct your

attention to one or two passages that prove most distinctly the fact,

that there stand clear in this oath of an Orangeman, principles, founded

on foregone practices and conclusions, which never should have existence

in a country so situated as this is.

“The Orangemen, for instance, in the paper headed their 'General

Declaration,' say, 'We associate for the defence of our persons and

properties, and to maintain the peace of the country; and for these

purposes we will be at all times ready to assist the civil and military

powers in the just and lawful discharge of their duty.'

“This, now, is all very plausible, but, perhaps, by looking a little

more closely into the circumstances of the case, we may be able to

perceive that in this passage, and one or two others of a similar

character, the most objectionable part of the system lies disguised--if

one can say disguised, because to me, my dear Spinageberd, the matter

seems obvious enough. Who, then, are these men that come forward with

arms in their hands, to proffer aid to the civil and military powers in

the discharge of their duty? A self-constituted body without authority,

who have certainly proved themselves to be brave men, and rendered most

important services to the state, at a time when such services were, no

doubt, both necessary and acceptable. The crisis, however, in which this

aid was given and received, being but of brief duration, soon passed

away, leaving the party opposed to government--the rebels--broken,

punished, flogged, banished, hanged; in fact, completely discomfited,

subdued, beaten down. In other words, the rebellion of '98 having been

thoroughly suppressed, this self-elected body of men, tasting the sweets

of authority, retain, under different circumstances, these obligations,

which, we admit, the previous situation of the country had rendered

necessary. They retain them in times of peace, and bring into operation

against men who were no longer either in a disposition or capacity to

resist, those strong prejudices and that fierce spirit which, originated

in tumult and civil war. Why, nobody complains of the conduct of

Orangemen, as a, body, in '98; it is of their outrages since, that the

country, and such as were opposed to them, have a right to complain.

“In another passage the declaration is still stronger and more

significant: 'We further declare,' say they, 'that we are exclusively a

Protestant association; yet, detesting as we do, any intolerant spirit,

we solemnly pledge ourselves to each other, that we will not persecute,

injure, nor upbraid any person on account of his religious opinions,

provided the same be not hostile to the state.'

'“That is to say, they will persecute, injure, or upbraid such persons

only whose religious opinions are hostile to the state. But, now, let

me ask any man of common sense, if he could for a moment hesitate to

declare on oath what religion they have alluded to as being hostile to

the state? There is, in truth, but one answer to be given--the Roman

Catholic. What else, then, is this excessive loyalty to the state but a

clause of justification for their own excesses, committed in the name,

and on the behalf of religion itself? Did they not also constitute

themselves the judges who were first to determine the nature of these

opinions, and afterwards the authorities who should punish them? Here

is one triumphant party with arms in their hand, who have only, if they

wish, to mark out a victim, and declare his religion and principles

as hostile to the state; and, lo! they are at liberty, by their own

regulations, to 'persecute' him!

“In the 5th secret article there occurs the following:--'We are not to

carry away money, goods, or anything, from any person whatever, except

arms and ammunition, and these only from an enemy.'

“This certainly shows the nature of the cruel and domiciliary tyranny

which they, subsequently to '98, carried to such excess in different

parts of the country; and here, as in the other instance, what was there

to guide them in determining the crime which constituted an enemy?

Why, their own fierce prejudices alone. Here, then, we find a body

irresponsible and self-constituted, confederated together, and trained

in the use of arms (but literally unknown to the constitution), sitting,

without any legal authority, upon the religious opinions of a class

that are hateful and obnoxious to them--and, in fact, combining within

themselves the united offices of both judge and executioner. With

the character of their loyalty I have no quarrel; I perceive it is

conditional; but the doctrine of unconditional loyalty is so slavish and

absurd, that the sooner such an unnecessary fetterlock is struck off the

mind the better. To-morrow evening, however, I am to be introduced to an

Orange Lodge, after the actual business of it shall have been transacted

and closed. This is a privilege not conceded to many, but it is one of

which I shall very gladly avail myself, in order that I may infer from

their conduct some faint conception of what it generally is.”

Valentine M'Clutchy, The Irish Agent The Works of William Carleton, Volume Two · 第 18 / 29 章