descend, but the latter would not desert Sir Norfolk, who had been
seized by a couple of grenadiers. He threw himself upon the old
baronet’s captors, and in the struggle that ensued, the railing gave
way, precipitating Sir Bulkeley Price, the Jesuit, and the grenadiers
into the tide. Before the other soldiers had recovered from their
surprise at this occurrence, Randulph had lowered Sir Norfolk into the
skiff and sprung in after him.
Jacob’s efforts to push off were impeded by Sir Bulkeley Price, who
clung to the stern of the skiff, earnestly imploring them to take him
in. Father Verselyn caught hold of the steps, and apprehensive of some
further disaster, crept along the side of the summer-house, and took
refuge in a small sewer, in the slime of which it is supposed he
perished, for he was never heard of more.
Meanwhile, Cardwell Firebras--engaged hand to hand with the officer,
who, having vainly summoned him to surrender, attacked him in
person--had reached the platform. Seeing escape impossible, Firebras,
while defending himself against the officer, called to Randulph, whom he
descried below, and held out the packet to him. The latter ordered Jacob
to keep the skiff steady, and to bring it as near the combatants as
possible.
While Jacob obeyed the injunction, a successful thrust from Firebras
stretched his adversary upon the platform, but the next moment he
received his own death-wound from Long Tom, who stepped forward as his
officer fell, and discharged his musket into his breast. With a dying
effort, Firebras stretched his hand over the rail, and consigning the
packet to Randulph, fell backwards into the water. Possessed of the
packet, Randulph turned to the aid of Sir Bulkeley Price, and pulling
him into the skiff, Jacob instantly pushed off. Assisted by the stream,
which ran very strong, they soon got under the sides of the vessel near
the mill, and were sheltered from the fire of the soldiery.
Meanwhile, the conflagration raged fast and furiously, and before the
skiff containing the fugitives had got half way to Westminster Bridge, a
tremendous explosion took place, scattering the blazing fragments of the
old mill far and wide into the river.
[[[RANDOLPH CREW’S MARRIAGE WITH HILDA AT LAMBETH CHURCH--DETAILING AN
EVENT WHICH MAY POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN ANTICIPATED]]]
|We shall hurry over the intervening period as rapidly as the lovers
themselves would have hurried it over, and proceed at once to the
wished-for day.
A little before nine o’clock, on this eventful morning, Randulph, who
had taken up his quarters with Sir Bulkeley Price, in Saint James’s
Square, entered the breakfast-room, arrayed in his bridal attire, which
had been prepared for him by the skilful hands of Desmartins. He found
Sir Bulkeley Price and Sir Norfolk Salusbury at the table--the latter
having come up from Wales, whither he had retired to recruit himself
after his wound, expressly to attend the ceremony. After receiving
their congratulations, Randulph sat down with them, but as he could only
swallow a cup of chocolate, he underwent much rallying on his want of
appetite.
Breakfast over, the party drove to Whitehall Stairs, where a six-oared
barge was in readiness to convey them across the river. Jacob Post
was appointed coxswain of this barge, and he wore a waterman’s coat of
scarlet cloth, and velvet jockey-shaped cap of the same colour. The
six rowers were attired in the same livery, and presented a very gay
appearance.
The morning was bright and beautiful, and everything seemed to Randulph
to participate in his happiness. Each boat that passed them, seeing the
purpose on which they were bent, cheered them cordially, and Jacob, who
was greatly elated, returned their greetings lustily.
As they passed through Westminster Bridge, and shaped their rapid course
to Lambeth, they passed a boat containing a couple in bridal attire, and
rowed by watermen with favours in their caps. These were Mr. Rathbone
and Mrs. Nettleship, who, having made a composition with their
creditors, had come to the conclusion that the best thing they could
do would be to fulfil their original agreement, and having heard that
Randulph and Hilda were to be united at Lambeth, they determined, like
Peter Pokerich and the fair Thomasine, to be married at the same time,
and at the same church. The boats cheered each other as they passed.
Shortly after this, they came up with a four-oared cutter, in which
was a still more gaily dressed bridal party, consisting of Mr. and
Mrs. Deacle, the fair Thomasine, and Peter Pokerich. The sunny tresses,
bright eyes, and dimpling cheeks of the bride attracted Sir Bulkeley’s
admiration, and he called out to Peter that he ought to consider himself
a very happy man; to which the little barber replied, ‘that he was the
happiest man in the world--Mr. Crew excepted.’
Another cheering passed between the rowers; and Randulph’s barge swept
over the sparkling waters to the stairs near Lambeth Palace, where he
and his companions disembarked.
As Abel Beechcroft was extremely well known and highly respected in
the neighbourhood, great preparations were made to lend éclat to his
nephew’s wedding. A band of music was stationed on a lighter moored
near the stairs; and the lighter itself was hung all over with flags
and streamers. The band was playing, the bells ringing, and as Randulph
leaped ashore, a loud shout from the crowd collected to see him land,
welcomed him, while many flattering comments, in no very low key, were
made upon his handsome appearance by the female part of the assemblage.
In passing towards his uncle’s residence, Randulph noticed with interest
a troop of pretty little girls with wreaths round their heads, and
baskets of flowers in their hands, standing in the path leading to the
church.
The party were admitted by Mr. Jukes, whose portly figure was well
displayed in an expansive snowy waistcoat, a brown coat, spick and span
new for the occasion, and a well-powdered bob-wig. The worthy butler
gave Randulph a hearty welcome, and wished him many years of happiness,
and having ushered him and the others into the parlour, returned to the
hall to Jacob, to give him wedding favours for himself and the watermen,
which the other hastened to distribute.
[Illustration: 0411]
The meeting between the young bride and bridegroom was full of agitated
delight. Abel looked perfectly happy, but thoughtful, as did Mrs.
Crew, whose emotion found relief in an occasional sigh--not the sigh of
misgiving, but the relief of a joy-oppressed heart.
Trussell was, as usual, in very high spirits. He shook Randulph heartily
by the hand, wished him all sorts of happiness, and then cordially
greeted the Welsh baronets. Besides Mrs. Clinton, there was another
young lady present, the daughter of an old friend of Mrs. Crew’s, a Miss
Wilbraham, who acted as bridesmaid to Hilda.
Soon afterwards, all being in readiness, the bride prepared to set forth
under the care of Abel Beechcroft, who, before they quitted the house,
in an earnest tone, invoked a blessing on her head and on that of his
nephew. And both felt that the blessing of so good a man would not be
thrown away.
Cheered by the good wishes and smiling countenances of the groups
through which they had passed, and enlivened by the sunshine, the party
entered the church. Peter Pokerich and the fair Thomasine, with Mr.
Rathbone and Mrs. Nettleship, were already standing beside the altar.
The young couple advanced, and took the central place, and the church
was instantly crowded with spectators. The service was admirably
performed by a venerable clergyman--an old and valued friend of Abel’s,
and at its close, the concourse issued from the church, dividing into
two lines, so as to allow a passage for the wedding train.
As soon as the happy couple were seen issuing hand-in-hand from the
Gothic portal of the old church, a loud and joyous shout was raised by
the assemblage, a couple of guns were fired on board the lighter, and
the church bells rang forth a joyous peal.
It was a heart-cheering sight, and many a breast throbbed, and many an
eye grew moist at beholding it. And plenty of spectators there were.
The whole of the area before the church was filled, and the windows and
towers of the old archiépiscopal palace were studded with faces. The
little flower-girls now stepped forward, and strewed their fragrant
offerings in the path of the happy pair, who walked on amid the
continued cheers of the bystanders.
A little behind Randulph, on the right, walked Trussell, who, excited by
the general enthusiasm, had placed his hat on his cane, and waved it
to the crowd. Near him came Abel and Miss Wilbraham, the former with
a glowing smile on his countenance, such as Mr. Jukes himself never
remembered to have witnessed. After them walked Sir Norfolk Salusbury
and Mrs. Crew. Next in order came Mr. and Mrs. Pokerich, the latter of
whom thought it decorous to turn aside her pretty face from the ardent
gaze of her enamoured little lord. Lastly came Mr. and Mrs. Rathbone,
whose appearance did not seem greatly to interest the spectators. Sir
Bulkeley Price had posted himself on the left of the church door, to
watch the wedding train pass by, and to wait the coming forth of the
clergyman.
As Randulph advanced through the crowd, Jacob Post stepped forward,
and holding out his rough, honest hand to him, said in a voice, the
sincerity of which could not be doubted, ‘God bless you, sir, and your
lovely bride, and may you know years of uninterrupted happiness!’
‘And take my blessing too,’ said Mr. Jukes, likewise extending his
hand. ‘An old man’s good wishes, though he be but a dependant, can do no
harm.’
‘I thank you both!’ cried Randulph, in a voice of emotion; ‘and my wife
thanks you too.’
‘I do--I do,’ she replied; ‘nor do I doubt the fulfilment of your
wishes.’ And as she uttered these words, loud and deafening cheers rent
the air, and another discharge of guns took place.
In this way they proceeded to the house, where they were followed by
the rest of the party, and presently afterwards by the clergyman and Sir
Bulkeley. They then all sat down to an excellent repast.
By desire of his hospitable master, Mr. Jukes invited the other couples
and their friends to take refreshments at his house, which, as they
delightedly availed themselves of the offer, were served to them in the
summer-house overlooking the river; where, while enjoying themselves,
they did not forget to drink long life and happiness to Randulph and his
bride.
The honeymoon--all the rest of their life was a honeymoon--was passed
by the happy couple, in good old-fashioned style, at Lambeth. They then
proceeded to Cheshire, accompanied by Trussell and Mrs. Crew, and were
soon afterwards followed by Abel, who passed the winter with them. In
due time the prognostications of Mr. Jukes were fulfilled, and Abel
displayed no objection to the endearments of two great-nieces and a
great-nephew.
Appointed Randulph’s head-gamekeeper, Jacob Post passed the remainder
of his days in the service of his new master. Of the two brothers
Beechcroft, Abel was the first to pay the debt of nature, Trussell
survived him two or three years, during which he was a great martyr
to gout. He never, however, lost his temper, except when young Master
Randulph accidentally trod on his toe, and then he would swear a round
oath, to frighten him, and try to hit at him with his stick, as testy
old gentlemen are wont to do in plays. Randulph and Hilda almost touched
the verge of the nineteenth century; and from the anecdotes of one of
their descendants, in the third generation, the materials of the present
tale have been collected.
HISTORY OF THE IRISH REBELLION IN 1798 AND EMMETT’S INSURRECTION IN
1803.
By W. H. Maxwell
Author Of ‘The Life Of The Duke Of Wellington,’ Etc. Etc.
``````Take heed
```How you awake the deeping sword of war;
```We charge you, in the name of God, take heed!
```For never two such kingdoms did contend,
```Without much fall of blood.
``````--Shakspeare.=
[[[THE CRADLE OF THE REBELLION]]]
|The rebellious movement which, in 1798, openly burst into the horrors
of civil war, had for years been maturing. The success of the American
colonists in defeating the mother country, and the upheaval in France,
the great Revolution, proved fatal precedents, and the easily excited
minds of the Irish people led the disloyal and disaffected of the sister
kingdom to contemplate the forcible carrying out of a similar policy. As
will be seen, this fratricidal struggle largely resolved itself into a
religious campaign between the Catholic and Protestant sections of the
community.
At an early stage of the coming struggle the ulterior objects of the
discontented Catholics became perfectly apparent, and some of their
warmest advocates took alarm. Sir Hercules Langrish, in his place in
the Irish Parliament, thus addressed the House: ‘Notwithstanding my
prepossessions in favour of the Roman Catholics, I was checked for
some time in my ardour to serve them, by reading of late a multitude of
publications and paragraphs in the newspapers, and other public prints,
circulated _gratis_ with the utmost industry, purporting to convey
the sentiments of the Catholics. What was their import? They were
exhortations to the people never to be satisfied at any concession till
the State itself was conceded: they were precautions against public
tranquillity; they were invitations to disorder, and covenants
of discontent; they were ostentations of strength, rather than
solicitations for favour; rather appeals to the power of the people,
than applications to the authority of the State; they involved the
relief of the Catholic, with the revolution of the Government; and were
dissertations for democracy, rather than arguments for toleration.’
[[[APPEAL TO FORCE OF ARMS]]]
Acting, however, on the resolutions they had published, the Committees
determined to summon a Convention in imitation of the proceedings which
were at the time violently revolutionising France, where the horrors
of the great French Rebellion had already unsettled everything in 1789.
Circulars were issued by their leaders--representatives elected in the
counties--and on the 3rd of December 1792 the ‘Back Lane Parliament’
commenced its first session in Tailor’s Hall.
The daring measure of calling together an assembly, where the delegates
debated with closed doors, was followed by a still bolder demonstration.
The discontented Romanists resolved upon making an overbearing display
of physical force, and declared their intention to arm, to maintain
their rights and effect their objects. For this purpose large sums of
money were levied, and a body was enrolled in the metropolis under the
title of ‘The National Guard.’ They were arrayed in green uniforms, with
a harp without the crown displayed upon the buttons and appointments.
Orders were issued for a general muster on the 9th of December; but a
proclamation, issued by the Lord Lieutenant, declared the body to be
dangerous to the public peace, and directed the authorities to disperse
the meeting should it be attempted, and employ force were it required.
Many conjectures were hazarded at the time respecting the objects of the
movement; some asserted that it was merely intended, by an exhibition
of numerical strength, to confirm unsteady friends, and intimidate those
who were opposed to them; others, however, ascribed to the National
Guards more serious and sanguinary designs--‘to seize even then upon
the city, and commence at once a civil war.’ Certain it is that the
Government were led to apprehend that this muster would lead to a
revolutionary movement, and, accordingly, the most decisive measures
were taken to render it abortive.
[[[‘THE UNITED IRISHMEN’]]]
|To follow up the progress and proceedings of the ‘United Irishmen’
throughout that unquiet period which intervened between the
lieutenancies of Earls Westmoreland and Camden would be unnecessary.
Their civil and military organisation, however, shall be described, and
a brief analysis given of their general history from the epoch where we
have broken off, when the seeds of disaffection had taken a firm root,
and a conspiracy was hatched, which, a few years afterwards, became
fatally matured, and exploded in 1798 with portentous violence.
Under the colour of volunteering, the arming and drilling of the
malcontents continued. A proclamation, issued by the 11th of March 1793,
declared these proceedings illegal, and attached penal consequences to
any who should continue them. The preamble ran thus: ‘Whereas certain
seditious and ill-affected persons, in several parts of the north,
particularly in the town of Belfast, have endeavoured to foment and
encourage discontent, and to defame the Government and the Parliament,
by seditious publications circulated among the people; and that several
bodies of men have been collected in armed associations, and have
been levied and arrayed in the said town of Belfast; and that arms and
gunpowder to a very large amount have been sent thither; and that bodies
of men have been drilled and exercised by day and night, under the
pretext of obtaining a redress of grievances, though the obvious
intention appears to be to overawe the Parliament and the Government,
and to dictate to both.’
This and the Gunpowder Act struck heavily at the military organisations
of the revolutionists; while the Convention Act, subsequently passed,
embarrassed the leaders of the movement so much, that an influential
member of the Union, Samuel Neilson, afterwards declared, ‘That the bill
was calculated to meet every part of the system, and the framer must
have had their constitution in his hand when he was devising its
provisions.’
[[[‘THE DEFENDERS’ AND ‘ORANGE LODGES’]]]
|In 1794 and 1795 outrages by ‘the Defenders’--a lawless confederacy,
exclusively Catholic--became general, and the Protestants associated for
self-defence. A conflict between the rival religionists took place at
a spot called ‘The Diamond,’ in the county of Armagh, in which the
Defenders were signally defeated. In commemoration of this success the
first Orange Lodge was formed on the 21st of September 1795. The system
of Orange Lodges ‘was not established in the metropolis, though many
years threatened with open rebellion, till the month of January 1798;
and many gentlemen of high character and considerable talents placed
themselves at its head, to give the institution a proper direction, and
to silence the calumnious clamours of traitors against it.’ The ‘Orange’
organisation, slowly but steadily, gained strength, until the body
was considered in the north of Ireland so numerous and effective, that
General Knox, commanding at the outbreak in 1798, assured the Government
that to these ardent supporters of the constitution the safety of Ulster
might be confidently entrusted.
[[[STATE PROSECUTIONS]]]
|Early in the annals of the movement several of the revolutionary
leaders were subjected to State prosecutions for sedition. Hamilton
Rowan was convicted, fined, and imprisoned, but escaped in women’s
clothes from Newgate; Nappy Tandy placed under bail, but fled the
kingdom to avoid a trial; Doctor Drennan was tried and acquitted; Tone
expatriated himself, and went with his family to America; but Jackson,
an English clergyman, and an envoy from the French Republican Government
to the Irish revolutionists, was, on the 23rd of April 1795, capitally
convicted of high treason. The unhappy man committed suicide, and
poisoned himself in the prisoner’s bar, immediately after the foreman
had announced him guilty.
The recall of Lord Westmoreland and the appointment of Lord Fitzwilliam
as viceroy raised the sinking confidence of the Catholic party as much
as it depressed the hopes of the Orangists. The well-known bias of
the Earl’s political opinions was warmly in favour of fresh and full
concessions, and it was supposed that Catholic emancipation was at hand.
While the Roman Catholics were buoyant with high expectation, arising
from the noble lord’s appointment to the Irish lieutenancy, a sudden
recall crushed their hopes and augmented their disaffection. From this
period their hostility to any monarchical form of government appears to
have become inveterate, and the first test required of a United
Irishman--one in which a reformed Parliament was distinctly
recognised--was instantly exchanged for another purely democratical.
[[[OATH OF THE ‘UNITED IRISHMEN’]]]
|The initiatory oath taken henceforth by the United Irishmen was thus
worded:--‘In the awful presence of God, I,... do voluntarily declare
that I will persevere in endeavouring to form a brotherhood of affection
among Irishmen of _every_ religious persuasion, and that I will also
persevere in my endeavours to obtain an equal, full, and adequate
representation of _all_ the people of Ireland. I do further declare,
that neither hopes, fears, rewards, or punishments, shall ever induce
me, directly or indirectly, to inform or give evidence against
any member or members of this or similar societies, for any act or
expression of theirs, done or made collectively or individually in and
out of this society, in pursuance of the spirit of this obligation.’
[[[FRENCH INVASION INVITED]]]
1796 was not fated to enjoy more tranquillity than the stormy era
that preceded it. A compulsory increase of military power, under the
provisions of the Militia Bill, increased the general discontent, and
the public uneasiness was not abated by a discovery that the French
Directory had undertaken to land an invading army to assist the Irish
revolutionists, who, on their part, undertook to pay these auxiliaries,
and eventually defray the whole expenses of the expedition. Additional
powers were now demanded by the Irish Executive, and the Insurrection
Act, which had passed in spring, was followed up by a suspension of
_habeas corpus_ in October.
There is no doubt that these stringent powers were afterwards sadly
and frequently abused. Arrests on secret information--districts
unnecessarily proclaimed--suspected persons sent, without the shadow of
a trial, on board the fleet--military license--arbitrary impressment of
beasts of burden for baggage transport--abuse in billeting--a general
insolence in the soldiery,--all these formed constant subject for
complaint, and, unfortunately, it was seldom made without ample
provocation.
These severities were impolitic--they reacted against the
Government--and the feelings of the lower orders became exasperated,
but not subdued. The most deeply marked of innate feelings in the human
breast is resistance to oppression, whether it be real or imaginary. The
peasantry assembled by night to drill, or deprive the loyalists of their
arms, whilst by day they collected in enormous numbers to harvest the
crops of persons imprisoned for political offences, or under the pretext
of attending a funeral, or a hurling match, they paraded in military
array, with banners and martial music.
While the disaffected thus evinced warm sympathy for their imprisoned
friends, reaping their corn and securing their potato crops, they were
equally assiduous in shielding them from the penal consequences of their
crimes. Bribery and intimidation were the means commonly employed, and
should these fail, assassination was not infrequent. This system of
terror too frequently sheltered the guilty from the punishment they
deserved; for, dreading the consequences of conviction and consequent
reprisals, witnesses prevaricated, intimidated jurors were afraid to do
their duty, and the criminal escaped.
[[[PROSECUTIONS AND SEARCHES FOR CONCEALED ARMS]]]
|In the spring of 1797 General Lake issued a proclamation, directing
that all persons unauthorised to keep arms should surrender them
forthwith to the proper authorities. It was declared that secret
information where weapons were concealed should be liberally rewarded,
and the full value of such arms as might be thus recovered should be
given to the informant. That the quantity hidden throughout the kingdom
was immense may be conceived from the fact that, within the year, and
in two provinces alone, Ulster and Leinster, 129,583 weapons of various
descriptions were seized or surrendered. In this number there were
48,000 firelocks, 70,000 pikes, and 22 pieces of cannon.
[[[READY FOR THE REBELLION]]]
At this period it is probable that the United Irishmen, in point of
numbers and organisation, were almost as formidable as at the moment
of the insurrection. In the northern provincial meetings particular
inquiries were made of the delegates assembled, ‘whether they considered
themselves as being sufficiently strong to disarm the military quartered
in their respective districts?’ and, with a few exceptions, the question
received an affirmative reply. Although too successful in corrupting the
soldiers, they appear to have made very erroneous calculations as to the
number whose allegiance had been shaken. Many, both of the line and the
militia, became pretended converts to republicanism merely to obtain
the money and entertainment offered liberally by the disaffected. Some
regiments, however, became seriously tainted with disloyalty; but,
generally, the active measures to counteract seduction adopted by the
commanding officers defeated the attempt.
[[[ORGANISATION OF THE REBELS]]]
|With the confidence which strength and union give to those who meditate
a revolutionary essay, the leaders of the disaffected waited with
impatience the assistance promised them through their agents by the
French Directory.
The military organisation of the United Irishmen was grafted on
their elaborately framed civil representative constitution, and was
constituted in the following manner:--‘The secretary of each subordinate
society, composed of twelve members, was appointed their petty or
non-commissioned officer. The delegate of five societies to a lower
baronial committee was commonly appointed captain of a company,
consisting of the five societies who had delegated him, and who made the
number of sixty privates; and then the delegate of ten lower baronials
to the upper or district committee was commonly appointed colonel of
a battalion, which was thus composed of six hundred. The colonels of
battalions in each county sent in the names of three persons to the
Executive Directory of the Union, one of whom was appointed by them
adjutant-general of the county, whose duty it was to receive and
communicate military orders from the Executive to the colonels of
battalions, and in general to act as officer of the revolutionary staff.
They were required to inform themselves of, and report the state of
the rebel regiments within their respective districts, of the number of
mills, the roads, rivers, bridges, and fords, the military positions,
the capacity of the towns and villages to receive troops, to communicate
to the Executive every movement of the enemy (meaning the King’s
troops), to announce the first appearance of their allies (the French
invaders), and immediately to collect their forces.
[[[MILITARY PLANS]]]
|Besides these a military committee was specially appointed. Its labours
were twofold: one was to prepare a plan for a general insurrection
unsupported by foreign aid; the other, to devise the best means of
co-operation with a French army, in the event of the promised descent
being effected on the coast of Ireland. On this event the Directory
calculated with such certainty in 1797, that a general order ‘to be
ready’ was issued through the provincial committees. Those who had
the means to obtain them were exhorted to procure firearms and
ammunition--pikes were to be provided by the lower orders--and
throughout three provinces the order was promptly obeyed. The
organisation of Connaught was, fortunately, still imperfect, and at
the outbreak of the insurrection the western counties were, happily for
themselves, quite unprepared for action.
[[[FRENCH INVASION]]]
|Passing over the abortive attempt at an invasion arranged between Lord
Edward Fitzgerald and General Lazare Hoche in 1796, when, after months
of preparations, which--like the Spanish Armada--failed ignominiously,
the ships being the victims of the adverse winds, and the commander,
Morard de Galles, being watched by the English Admiral Gardiner with
a stronger force (18 sail of the line). The equipment, but for
unfavourable circumstances, was sufficiently formidable,--the expedition
numbering 15 sail of the line, 10 frigates, and 7 transports, which were
afterwards augmented,--the whole comprising 15,000 troops, with 40,000
extra stand of arms, a field park of 29 pieces, 60,000 barrels of
powder, and 7,000,000 cartridges. The time chosen was just before
Christmas.
[[[DISCOMFITED FRENCH FLEET IN BANTRY BAY]]]
|On the 26th December--the morning after the French admiral had issued
orders to cut the cables and put to sea--Wolf Tone, who was the active
spirit of the expedition, thus describes the situation to which the
remnant of the invading forces was reduced:--‘The morning is now come,
the gale continues, and the fog is so thick that we cannot see a ship’s
length ahead; so here we lie in the utmost uncertainty and anxiety.
In all probability we are now left without admiral or general; if
so, Cherin will command the troops, and Bedout the fleet; but, at
all events, there is an end of the expedition. Certainly we have been
persecuted by a strange fatality, from the very night of our departure
to this hour. We have lost two commanders-in-chief; of four admirals
not one remains; we have lost one ship of the line (the _Séduisant_ was
shipwrecked) that we know of, and probably many others of which we know
nothing; we have been now six days in Bantry Bay, within 500 yards
of the shore, without being able to effect a landing; we have been
dispersed four times in four days; and at this moment, of 43 sail, of
which the expedition consisted, we can muster of all sizes but 14. There
only wants our falling in with the English to complete our destruction.’
On the 27th the weather continued stormy. Several ships were obliged to
cut and run, the fleet was reduced to 7 sail of the line and a frigate,
the troops to 4200 men, and the artillery to two four-pounders. As a
last effort this miserable remnant of the expedition determined to seek
the Shannon, which had been named as the place of rendezvous. During
the whole gale, which blew on the night of the 28th, a sixth separation
occurred, and three seventy-fours and a frigate parted company. On the
29th the commodore signalised the other captains to steer for France,
and the last ship of an expedition intended to overthrow the British
monarchy quitted the shores of Ireland without having landed a single
soldier, communicated with the disaffected, or thrown a musket on the
shore.
The failure of the first attempt at an invasion was a fatal
disappointment to the Irish Unionists; and although hopes were held
out that a second armament would be fitted out by the French Directory
without delay, the financial and political embarrassments of the
Republic gave little promise that it would or could be effected. Hoche,
who did not reach France for fifteen days after Grouchy, was nominated
soon after to the command of the army of the Sambre and the Meuse. This
appointment was heavily regretted by the agents of the United Irishmen,
for there is no doubt that Ireland was to Hoche the favourite field of
ambition that Egypt was afterwards to Bonaparte; and undoubtedly he
was sincere in his expressed intention of making the second effort at
invasion, had not his sudden dissolution intervened.
‘The affair,’ replied he, ‘is but suspended. You know our difficulties
for money; the repair of our fleet and the necessary preparations
require some considerable time, and, in the meantime, there are 15,000
men lying idle below, and, in fact, we cannot even feed them there.
The Directory has resolved, in the meantime, to employ them usefully
elsewhere, and has accepted my services; but be assured, the moment the
enterprise is resumed, that I will return with the first _patrouille_
which embarks.’--_General Hoche to Tone._ Hoche sank from rapid
consumption, it is said, 19th of September 1797, in command of the
united armies of the Rhine and Sambre and Meuse. Adverse fate seemed
determined to overwhelm unhappy Ireland, but fortune again miraculously
warded off the desperately threatening conjunction of affairs.
[[[THE DUTCH INVASION AVERTED]]]
|From another quarter, however, the Irish revolutionists obtained both
sympathy and support. Lewines, the chief agent of the United Irishmen,
had been accredited to Spain and Holland, with both powers England being
at war, to request assistance. From the Spanish Government he received,
generally, an encouraging answer to his memorial; and from the Batavian
Executive a positive assurance of prompt and powerful co-operation
on the part of the Dutch republicans--a promise they endeavoured to
faithfully perform.
It was an awful epoch in British history; and it would have been
difficult to say whether at home or abroad the political position of
England was more embarrassed and portentous. Conquest had attended the
onward march of the Republicans, and victory had succeeded victory; and
while Ireland was ready to explode, public confidence was shaken to
its centre, for that stay of Britain--her fleet--had failed her in her
trying hour, and broken into open mutiny. Such was the ominous aspect,
foreign and domestic, when the Batavian Government determined to strike
a blow, that, if fortunately delivered, might have gone far to dismember
that island empire which had wrung from the Dutch the dominion of the
seas.
Holland was a power to be dreaded. France threatened and intended a
descent, but she possessed the wish, rather than the power to effect it.
Her naval executive was wretchedly defective, her marine and monetary
resources limited and precarious; and while the dockyard authorities
declared that eight weeks would be sufficient to fit out a second
expedition, it was probable--and so it proved--that as many months must
elapse before a fleet could be sent afloat. With the Dutch Republic
matters were in a different state. In the Texel five-and-twenty
line-of-battle ships and frigates were lying manned, equipped, and ready
for sea; 15,000 troops were ordered for instant embarkation; and with a
quantity of spare arms, a large artillery force, and plenty of money
to subsist the troops when landed, the Batavian armament undauntedly
determined to push out of harbour with the first fair wind, elude
Admiral Warren and his blockading squadron--if they could--or, if
intercepted, stand an action with the British admiral’s forces, and thus
endeavour to redeem the honour of a flag that once had been feared and
respected.
The Dutch Government proved their sincerity of intention by the
selection they made for the command of the expedition. The naval
department was entrusted to De Winter, an officer of distinguished
reputation, while the troops were placed under the direction of
Daendels, a man justly considered to be the best general in the service
of the Republic. The feelings of the Batavian Executive towards the
Irish revolutionists were ardent and disinterested, and nothing could
surpass the enthusiastic spirit which pervaded both the military and
marine.
Tone relates in his _Memoirs_:--‘General Daendels showed me to-day his
instructions from the Dutch Government. They are fair and honest, and I
have no doubt he will act up to them. The spirit of them is, always to
maintain the character of a faithful ally, and not to interfere in the
domestic concerns of the people; to aid them, by every means in his
power, to establish their liberty and independence, and to expect no
condition in return, but that we should throw off the English yoke, and
that, when all was settled on that score, we should arrange our future
commerce with the Dutch Republic on the basis of reciprocal advantage
and accommodation.’
But it would appear that against invasive efforts fortune had declared
herself an enemy, and the same wind that prevented the landing of a
French armament as obstinately resisted the sailing of the Dutch one.
Day after day fifteen sail-of-the-line, eight frigates, and thirty
transports lay at single anchor, locked up in the Texel, while a breeze,
any point to northward, would have carried them to sea with eighteen
battalions of infantry, four of chasseurs, eight squadrons of cavalry,
and eleven companies of artillery--the whole forming an efficient and
well-appointed army of 14,000 men, a force more than sufficient, under
happy auspices, to have changed an empire’s fate.
Foul winds continued. The spirit of troops cooped up a month on
shipboard gradually abated, and golden opportunities slipped away.
Even the most sanguine began to doubt, a coolness arose between the
commanders, and De Winter at last memorialised his Government, and
intimated that the expedition, as far as its original destination was
concerned, must be abandoned for the present. The document stated that
July had been named for the attempt, that on the 9th all was ready, that
the English fleet (the forces of which he rightly foresaw, would have
to be faced) at that time consisted, at the very most, of thirteen
sail-of-the-line, which could not make any effectual opposition,
that contrary winds having prevailed ever since, without an hour’s
intermission, the enemy had had time to reinforce himself to the number
of seventeen sail-of-the-line, so that he had now a superiority in
force over the Dutch fleet, which, of course, rendered the issue of
an engagement, to a certain degree, doubtful; that, by this unforeseen
delay, which might, and probably would, continue still longer, a great
additional consumption of provisions had taken place, so that in a very
few days there would be barely sufficient for the voyage north-about;
that the season was now rapidly passing away, and, if the foul wind
continued a fortnight longer, the voyage would become highly dangerous,
if not utterly impracticable, with a fleet encumbered with so many
transports, and amounting to nearly seventy sail of all kinds, and that,
in consequence, even a successful action with the English would not
ensure the success of the enterprise, which the very season would
negative; that for all these reasons, his opinion was that the present
plan was no longer advisable, and in consequence he proposed that it
should be industriously published that the expedition was given up; that
the troops should be disembarked, except from 2500 to 3000 men of the
_élite_ of the army, who with twenty or thirty pieces of artillery, and
all the arms and ammunition, should remain on board the frigates and one
or two of the fastest-sailing transports; that as the vigilance of the
enemy would probably be relaxed in consequence, this flotilla should
profit by the first favourable moment to put to sea, and push for
their original destination, where they should land the men, arms, and
artillery, and he would charge himself with the execution of this plan;
that by this means, even if they failed, the Republic would be at no
very great loss, and if they succeeded must gain exceedingly; that
she would preserve her grand fleet, which was now her last stake, and,
during the winter, would be able to augment it, so as to open the
next campaign--in case peace was not made _ad interim_--with twenty
sail-of-the-line in the North Sea. These were most certainly very strong
reasons, and, unfortunately for the would-be invaders, the wind gave
them every hour fresh weight.
[[[FATE OF THE DUTCH FLEET]]]
|In accordance with De Winter’s advice the troops were landed, and the
Dutch attempt upon Ireland virtually abandoned; for although it was
ordered that the invading army should be so cantoned that it could
be instantly concentrated for embarkation, its future destination was
changed, and the north of Scotland was declared a fitter place for the
attempt than the Irish coast. But these designs were never carried out,
for the excellent reason that the British North Sea fleet under Duncan’s
leadership was prepared to intervene. On the 11th October 1797 De Winter
put to sea, and the memorable action of Camperdown resulted. Both fleets
in numbers, men, and metal were much the same, and though the Dutch
vessels were skilfully handled and most gallantly fought, their defeat
was so decisive, that with this crushing blow the marine power of the
States of Holland was finally extinguished.
[[[DESPAIR OF FOREIGN ASSISTANCE]]]
|The failure of the Batavian Government in giving their promised
assistance to the Irish malcontents proved in many respects most
injurious to the success of the conspiracy. The ardent expectations of
succour from abroad, so long and eagerly expected, vanished with the
crowning victory of Camperdown. This heavy and irremediable disaster
abated the confidence of the most sanguine, distracted the deliberations
of the leaders, and hurried the lower classes into overt acts
of violence which irritated the royalists and provoked a fearful
retaliation. Indeed, on both sides exasperated feelings had produced
cruelty, and, as a consequence, barbarous reaction. The troops, with
the impunity attendant upon martial law, made a plea of disaffection the
excuse for licence and exaction; and upon the innocent and guilty,
too frequently, the vengeance of the Executive was indiscriminately
directed. The summary infliction of corporal and capital punishment--the
destruction of property--the severity attached to charges of sedition,
when secret enmity and vile espionage would bring ruin on the
unoffending, and suspicion was held synonymous with guilt,--all these
severities, equally illegal and injudicious, kindled a ferocity of
feeling between parties which milder measures might have allayed,
accustomed men to acts of violence from which otherwise they would have
revolted, and reconciled them to the terrible barbarities attendant upon
civil war.
[[[INFLAMMATORY PUBLICATIONS]]]
|Nor is it to be denied that cruelty in the authorities found much
extenuation in the crimes committed by the disaffected. That accursed
crime, so alien to British feeling, became every day more prevalent, and
secret assassination was perpetrated by the ignorant, and encouraged
by the most infamous prints which ever damned a cause. _The Union Star_
headed its columns with a broad encouragement to murder, and individuals
were regularly branded for the knife; _The Press_ was equally violent,
but its sedition was modified--the treasonable doctrines of the one
being levelled generally against public securities, while a malignant
hatred to the person inculcated in the leading article of the other
the assassination of those who were obnoxious. Both these inflammatory
prints were eventually prosecuted and put down; and while no
publications ever called for the intervention of the law-officers
more imperiously, in justice we must add that none were more
unconstitutionally disposed of--a military mob demolished the one, the
civil authorities arbitrarily suppressed the other.
To the cause which they ardently but unwisely advocated these prints
were fatally mischievous. There were two great parties in the kingdom:
one--the Roman Catholics--had serious reasons for discontent, for
statutory enactments excluded them from civil rights; with the
Protestants it was different--they had much to reform, but nothing to
obtain. In the north of Ireland and part of Leinster, as it does at
present, the wealth, the moral character, and hence the moral influence
of the kingdom, might be considered as being concentrated; and, as it
will ever be, the intelligence of the minor section of the Irish people
overbalanced the physical superiority of the other. To one object--wild
and imaginative--the efforts of the Protestant party were directed;
to another--vague, bigoted, and impracticable--the Romanists addressed
themselves. Hence the combination of interests and feelings was easily
disorganised, and within six months after an eternity of union had
been announced as existing between religionists virulently opposed, the
discrepancy of intentions had severed the Roman Catholics and Dissenters
so completely, that the conviction exists, had the issue come to trial,
nineteen out of twenty of the northern republicans would have eventually
joined the royal banner.
Musgrave, in his _Memoirs_, has pointed out this logical
conclusion:--‘When Dickey, a rebel leader and a Dissenter, was on
the point of being hanged at Belfast, he declared that the eyes of
Presbyterians had been opened too late; and that they were convinced by
the massacres perpetrated by the Romanists in the province of Leinster,
that they must have had to contend with them if they had succeeded in
overturning the constitution.’
The secret informer played a most important part in this fearsome
history from its commencement; of these--the most important--because
occupying the most influential position, was Mr. Thomas Reynolds, of the
county of Kildare, who had acquired a landed property at Kilkea Castle.
Lord Edward Fitzgerald and Oliver Bond, two leaders in the conspiracy,
having, for the reason that he possessed considerable influence
amongst the Romanists, considered Reynolds a proper person to assist in
forwarding their treasonable designs, practised every art of seduction
to attach him to their cause; and having at last succeeded, he was sworn
a United Irishman at the house of Oliver Bond in Dublin in the beginning
of the year 1797, was induced to accept the commission of colonel, the
offices of treasurer and representative of the county of Kildare, and at
last that of delegate for the province of Leinster.
[[[THE LEADERS OF THE CONSPIRACY BETRAYED TO THE GOVERNMENT]]]
|Soon after he was raised to this elevated situation in the Union,
having discovered that the conspirators, instead of intending to reform
the abuses of the State, and to abolish all religious distinctions,
which was their professed object at first, meditated the subversion of
the constitution, the massacre of the leading members of Government, and
of such persons as should oppose their designs, he determined to defeat
them by embracing the first opportunity of communicating them to some
person in whom he could confide.
[[[REVELATIONS OF THE SECRET TRAITOR-INFORMER]]]
|He had a very great friendship and respect for Mr. Cope, an eminent
merchant of the city of Dublin, who, having lamented to him in the
course of conversation the crimes and atrocities which were constantly
committed, and which were undoubted symptoms of an approaching
rebellion, Mr. Reynolds, upon whom his conversation had made a very
deep impression, said, ‘That he knew a person connected with the United
Irishmen, who, he believed, would defeat their nefarious projects by
communicating them to Government, in order to make an atonement for the
crime he had committed in joining them.’ Mr. Cope assured him that such
a person would obtain the highest honours and pecuniary rewards that the
administration could confer, and that he would be admired and applauded
by the most virtuous and valuable portion of society. But Mr. Reynolds
said that nothing could tempt him to come forward and avow himself.
However, after the most earnest and pressing solicitations repeatedly
made on the part of Mr. Cope, for whom he had filial reverence, he said
that his friend would appear in person and disclose the particulars of
the plot on the following conditions:--“That he should not be called
upon in person to prosecute any United Irishmen; that the channel
through which the information came should be kept a secret, at least for
a time; that, as his life would be in danger upon its being known,
and he must leave the country and go to England till matters were
settled--which would derange his affairs, and put him to considerable
expense--he expected to receive some compensation. Mr. Cope then told
him that he might draw on him for any sum not exceeding five hundred
guineas. On that he told Mr. Cope that the Leinster delegates were to
meet at Oliver Bond’s on the 12th of March to concert measures for an
insurrection.”
It will be seen that, to pierce the conspiracy, no common informer was
likely to penetrate the secrets of the confederacy. Save to a chosen few
the higher executive was veiled in mystery--the revelations of obscure
and ordinary traitors would therefore prove unavailing--and he who could
denounce the Secret Directory must be a member himself.
The traitor who had betrayed the elements of this huge conspiracy found
his confidences well kept. Documents, whose authenticity cannot be
called in question, are in existence, and furnish irrefragable proof of
Mr. Thomas Reynolds having received for his disclosures not £500 only,
but the sum of £5000 in four payments, at the following dates, and in
the following amounts:--
1798. Sept. 29, Mr. T. Reynolds received....£1000
Nov. 16.....................................£2000
1799-Jan. 19................................£1000
March,,.....................................£1000
£5000
In all these curious disclosures is revealed the fact that, owing to
the sensitive conscience of the informer, he in all received a very
comfortable sum--including an annuity of £1000 per annum.
Moreover, on the 14th of June 1799 Mr. Reynolds received his annuity
of £1000, ‘in full to the 25th March 1799; from which period till his
death, the 18th of August 1836, his pension continued to be paid to him.
The amount of that pension was £1000 Irish, or £920 British, per annum,
he received for a term of thirty-seven years.
The gross amount for the above period, at £920 per annum, is £34,040
Gratuity before the trials of Bond, M’Cann, and Byrne £500
Gratuities between Sept. 1798, and 4th March 1799 £5,000
Consulship at Lisbon, four years at £1,400 per annum £5,600
Consulship at Iceland, two year at £300........£600
.............................................£45,740
[[[THE HEADS OF THE CONSPIRACY SWEPT OFF]]]
|The result of Reynolds’s information was the arrest of the whole
provincial committee, consisting of fifteen members, delegates from
different societies. They had assembled at the house of Oliver Bond, in
Bridge Street, on the 12th of March, and were completely surprised by
Captain Swan, attended by a dozen soldiers in coloured clothes. Several
important papers were found upon the persons of the conspirators, some
written by Byrne, and others by John M’Cann--and both these unfortunate
men subsequently underwent the extreme penalty of the law.
The arrest at Bond’s was followed up by many others, and most of the
Leinster delegates were promptly seized and imprisoned, while others
were denounced. Among the former were Emmett, Sweetman, Jackson,
and Macnevin; among the latter Lord Edward Fitzgerald, Sampson, and
McCormick.
The consequences of the fatal occurrence can be readily imagined. The
loss of their leaders created confusion and distrust--that they had
been betrayed was evident, and yet none could point to the betrayer.
No wonder that men implicated in the conspiracy trembled for
themselves--treason was abroad--and what added terror to that knowledge
was that none could name the individual, and hence all was vague
apprehension, more heart depressing than actual but open danger.
The effect of this fetal discovery was equally injurious to the
interests of the Union abroad.
[[[WOLF TONE’S DIARY]]]
|In his ‘Diary’ Tone records:--‘I have read news of the most disastrous
and afflicting kind, as well for me individually as for the country at
large. The English Government has arrested the whole committee of United
Irishmen for the province of Leinster, including almost every man I know
and esteem in the city of Dublin. It is by far the most terrible blow
which the cause of liberty in Ireland has yet sustained. I know not
whether in the whole party it would be possible to replace the energy,
talents, and integrity of which we are deprived by this most unfortunate
of events. I have not received such a shock from all that has passed
since I left Ireland. What a triumph at this moment for Fitzgibbon (Lord
Clare)! These arrestations following so close on that of O’Connor, give
rise to very strong suspicions of treachery on my mind. I cannot bear to
write or think longer on this dreadful event.’
[[[BELATED PRECAUTIONS]]]
|The first care of such of the leaders as remained at liberty was
to fill up the vacancies in their executive; and while the shaken
confidence of the Unionists should be re-established they endeavoured,
by a cautionary address, to repress any premature explosion. This
diplomatic document thus concludes:--‘This recital, Irishmen, is meant
to guard those of you who are remote from the scene of the late events
against the consequences of misrepresentation and mistake. The most
unfounded rumours have been set afloat, fabricated for the double
purpose of delusion and intimidation. Your enemies talk of treachery in
the vain and fallacious hope of creating it; but you, who scorn equally
to be their dupe or slaves, will meet their forgeries with dignified
contempt, incapable of being either goaded into untimely violence, or
sunk into pusillanimous despondency. Be firm, Irishmen, but be cool
and cautious; be patient yet awhile; trust to no unauthorised
communications; and above all, we warn you--again and again we warn
you--against doing the work of your tyrants, by premature, by partial,
or divided exertion. If Ireland shall be forced to throw away the
scabbard, let it be at her own time, not theirs.’
[[[DESPAIR OVER WRECKED OPPORTUNITIES]]]
|A month wore on. Every day the chances of a successful rising became
more gloomy; disclosures were hourly made; and it became quite evident
to the revolutionary leaders that the Government had penetrated their
most secret plans, and were prepared to crush the conspiracy. As the
arms and ammunition of the malcontents were detected and seized,
the hands of the Executive were proportionately strengthened as the
offensive power of the disaffected became less formidable. Supplementary
corps of loyalists were armed and embodied; and those to whom the
destinies of Ireland were entrusted assumed now an air of stern
determination equally inflexible and appalling to the guilty. Daily
a French invasion appeared a more improbable event. At last the truth
became apparent that it was hopeless to expect foreign assistance; and
the blow must be struck by the conspirators, unaided and alone.
[[[THE DATE OF RISING FIXED]]]
|Accordingly, the night of the 23rd May was appointed for a general
insurrection; and the signal for a rising _en mane_ was to be the
destruction or detention of the mail coaches after they had left the
metropolis, while the counties and districts were left generally to the
direction of local leaders; the insurrectionary movement in the capital
embraced a simultaneous attack on the castle, the prisons, and
military posts, the artillery barracks at Chapelizod, and the camp at
Laughlinstown, seven miles south of Dublin.
Some of the foreknowledge of the movements of the United Irishmen was
evidently furnished by the informer Reynolds, who, strange to relate,
had successfully eluded detection. In making his terms with the
Government the traitor had prudently insisted upon his condition, that
the channels through which the information came should remain for
some time a secret; a stipulation in which his employers were no less
interested than himself, as, by wearing still the mask of a friend,
he could retain still the confidence of those he was betraying, and
whatever victims his first aim had missed might, from the same ambush,
be made sure of afterwards. In pursuance of this policy we find him, as
he himself admits, paying a friendly visit to Mrs. Bond, two or three
days after he had marked her husband for death; and even to Lord
Fitzgerald--whose place of concealment at this moment was kept secret,
as we shall see, from his own family--Reynolds, under the trust reposed
in him, found ready admittance. Lord Edward was at once the head and arm
of the seditious movement.
[[[THE UNFORTUNATE LORD EDWARD FITZGERALD]]]
|The name of Lord Edward stands out as that of the most conspicuous
actor in this lurid history of the Irish Rebellion, as a personage whose
birth, talents, energies, and enthusiasm obtained for him an unhappy
pre-eminence. The fifth son of the Duke of Leinster, Lord Edward was
nobly born by the maternal side, his mother being the daughter of
Charles, Duke of Richmond. When Lord Edward was ten years old the Duke
of Leinster died, and after a brief widowhood his relict remarried, and
removing to France, there Lord Edward commenced his education, which
appears to have been hurried and imperfect. Subsequently, after
remaining for a short time with the Sussex militia, he obtained a
commission in the line, joined the 96th regiment in Ireland; exchanged
into the 19th, embarked for America, with which England was then at war,
and, landing at Charlestown, was placed under the command of Lord Rawdon
(Lord Moira), and afterwards attached to the staff of that spirited
commander.
Here the young soldier had an opportunity of witnessing field
service for the first time, and in one important branch of the
profession--outpost duty--it afforded frequent opportunities of
exhibiting tact and address, as well as personal courage. With these
qualities Lord Edward was abundantly gifted, and apparently a contempt
for danger, carried to rashness. Owing to ill-health Lord Rawdon left
Carolina for England, and Lord Edward rejoined his regiment (the 19th),
when Greene attacked Stuart at Eutaw Springs, the result of which was
a gallant and very doubtful action. Lord Edward, with his accustomed
daring, was closely engaged, wounded in the leg, and left upon the
field.
In this helpless situation he was found by a poor negro, who carried him
off on his back to his hut, and there nursed him most tenderly till he
was well enough of his wound to bear removing to Charlestown. The negro
was the ‘faithful’ Tony, whom in gratitude for the honest creature’s
kindness he now took into his service, and who continued devotedly
attached to his noble master to the premature ending of his lordship’s
career.
After the surrender of Cornwallis’s army at York Town, Lord Edward
joined the staff of General O’Hara at St. Lucia; but, after a few
months, he left the West Indies, returned home, and was nominated by his
brother, the Duke of Leinster, member for the borough of Athy.
Several years passed; his career appears to have been unsettled and
undetermined--one while studying professionally at Woolwich, the next
visiting Gibraltar and Lisbon, and subsequently the principal cities of
Spain. In June 1788 he returned again to America, landed at Halifax, and
proceeded to join the 54th regiment, quartered at St. John’s; and held
a field officer’s rank in the same corps, in which the celebrated
political writer, Cobbett, was then acting as sergeant-major.
Lord Edward appears--according to Moore’s _Life and Death_--to have been
a man of nervous excitability. We find him occasionally enacting ‘Love’s
Slave’--and, with all the ardour and inconstancy of Romeo, forgetting
Rosalind for Juliet. Had circumstances permitted the chances are that
he would have changed his military profession for the calm enjoyments
of domestic happiness. But they did not--and hence, probably, ‘an uneasy
mind’ sent him a second time across the Atlantic to seek, in savage or
primaeval life, employment for an ardent and impassioned spirit, which,
under more fortunate circumstances, would have sought domestic and
cultivated enjoyments.
The active and careless character of his pursuits may be collected from
an extract from one of numerous letters to his mother:--‘I have been
out hunting, and like it very much--it makes me _un peu sauvage_, to be
sure. You may guess how eager I am to try if I like the woods in winter
as well as in summer. I believe I shall never again be prevailed on to
live in a house. I long to teach you all how to make a good spruce bed.
Three of the coldest nights we have had yet I slept in the woods with
only one blanket, and was just as comfortable as in a room. It was in
a party with General Carleton, we went about twenty miles from this to
look at a fine tract of land that had been passed over in winter.
You may guess how I enjoyed this expedition, being where, in all
probability, there had never been but one person before.’
This excursion, no doubt, suggested to Lord Edward his subsequent
overland journey direct from Fredericstown to Quebec.
To modern adventurers the exploit would appear a commonplace essay, but
at the time the expedition was devised and accomplished, few excepting
an Indian or backwoodsman would have voluntarily undergone the real and
imaginary hardships of the journey. After a thirty days’ pilgrimage the
young adventurer reached Quebec. One incident written to his mother is
characteristic: ‘I must tell you a little more of the journey. After
making the river we fell in with some savages, and travelled with
them to Quebec; they were very kind to us, and said we were “all one
brother”--all “one Indian.” They fed us the whole time we were with
them. You would have laughed to have seen me carrying an old squaw’s
pack, which was so heavy I could hardly waddle under it. However, I was
well paid whenever we stopped, for she always gave me the best bits, and
most soup, and took as much care of me as if I had been her own son; in
short I was quite _l’enfant chéri_’
A final expedition he made _via_ Detroit and Michilimackinack to New
Orleans, seems to have confirmed his Indian predilections, and led to
his adoption into the Bear Tribe,--an honour upon which Lord Edward
prided himself no little. From New Orleans he embarked for England,
and for the three years succeeding his career was passed in England and
Ireland without important occurrences to mark them, beyond the outbreak
of the great French Revolution, that prodigious social and political
upheaval which turned the heads of Europe. This terrible cataclysm
intoxicated the Irish sympathisers, who, valorous for liberty, were
blind to its excesses. This _bouleversement_ fascinated the imaginations
of the men who aspired to copy its progressive developments, and to
leave their record heroically impressed upon Irish history; the Emmett
brothers, Wolf Tone, the brothers Sheares, Lord Edward himself, and many
other enthusiasts--the guiding spirits of the Irish insurrection--drew
their inspirations from the Gallic font. They were friends and developed
into fellow-conspirators. For instance, take the names last mentioned.
Henry and John Sheares were brothers, and sons of a banker in Cork. They
had received a liberal education, and both had been called to the Irish
bar. Travelling, during the wildest period of the French Revolution,
they became residents in Paris while the reign of terror was at its
height, and, as it has been stated, witnessed the horrible scenes
enacted daily under the tyranny of Robespierre, with an apathy from
which accomplished and civilised gentlemen should have recoiled. The
fearless manner in which their political opinions were promulgated
exposed them to the suspicions of the Executive, and shortly before the
Irish conspiracy broke out,--thanks to the revelations on the part of
the traitor-informer, which at one swoop cut off the entire corps of
directing spirits--they were arrested and confined.
Lord Edward, more practical than his philosophic friends, had
notoriously learned to act while they were ‘philosophising;’ he too
had been educated in the school of the French Revolution, with the arch
leading spirit of which violent movement he had connected himself by
family ties. When France declared herself a republic in 1792, and the
Duke of Orleans--‘the enigma of the revolution,’ as Lamartine pronounces
him--had voted for the death of the king, his kinsman, possibly
realising a similar fate overhung his own head, Lord Edward was too
enthusiastic to lose such a spectacle of moral and political excitement,
and hastened over to Paris without communicating his intentions even to
the Duchess, and to that fatal visit, as his biographer Moore avers, his
subsequent misfortunes must be traced. His wild and hasty attachment
to French principles--for he became almost a personage of the French
Revolution, and is mentioned in Lamartine’s _History_--his introduction
to Madame de Sillery (de Genlis), _gouvernante_ to the Orleans children,
his falling desperately in love with the notoriously bewitching and
_spirituelle_ ‘Pamela,’ natural daughter of the _Egalité_ Duke of
Orleans by the lady _gouvernante_ already mentioned, are matters of
history. Pamela, on all accounts, was sufficiently fascinating to
account for so romantic an attachment, and Lord Edward was in himself a
perfect hero of romance, and was made all the more interesting, even in
France, by this tender episode. After this union his dismissal from the
British army, his return to Ireland with his bride, the surpassingly
charming Frenchwoman, are merely personal details. Had not Lord Edward
been steeped in the practical development of the Irish rebellion, his
political career would have subsided in favour of that domestic felicity
of which he sent his mother the following artless and sympathetic
picture:--
‘My little place is much improved by a few things I have done, and
by all _my planting_; by the bye, I doubt if I told you of my flower
garden,--I got a great deal from Frescati. I have been at Kildare since
Pam’s lying-in, and it looked delightful, though all the leaves were
off the trees, but so comfortable and snug. I think I shall pass a
delightful winter there. I have got two fine large clumps of turf,
which look both comfortable and pretty. I have paled in my little
flower-garden before my hall door with a lath paling like the cottage,
and stuck it full of roses, sweetbriar, honeysuckles, and Spanish broom.
I have got all my beds ready for my flowers; so you may guess how I long
to be down to plant them. The little fellow will be a great addition
to the party. I think when I am down there with Pam and child of a
blustering evening, with a good turf fire and a pleasant book, coming
in after seeing my poultry put up, my garden settled, flower beds and
plants covered for fear of frost,--the place looking comfortable and
taken care of, I shall be as happy as possible; and sure I am I shall
regret nothing but not being nearer my dearest mother, and her not being
of our party. It is indeed a drawback, and a great one, our not being
more together. Dear Malvern! how pleasant we were there; you can’t
think how this time of year puts me in mind of it. Love always. Your
affectionate son, E. F.’
Moore significantly comments: ‘In reading these simple and, to an almost
feminine degree, fond letters, it is impossible not to feel how strange
and touching is the contrast between those pictures of a happy home
which they so unaffectedly exhibit, and that dark and troubled sea of
conspiracy and revolt into which the amiable writer of them so soon
afterwards plunged; nor can we easily bring ourselves to believe that
the joyous tenant of this little Lodge, the happy husband and father,
dividing the day between his child and his flowers, could be the same
man who, but a year or two after, placed himself at the head of the
rebel myriads, negotiated on the frontiers of France for an alliance
against England, and but seldom laid down his head on his pillow at
night without a prospect of being summoned thence to the scaffold or the
field.’
At the crisis of the conspiracy the hopes of the disaffected almost
centred in this individual, who has left a memory behind which commands
the admiration of many--the pity, I believe, of all. His earlier history
we have already sketched, and the more painful duty of describing its
hurried and unhappy close now devolves upon us. Meanwhile Lord Edward,
as a military leader, devoted himself to arming and disciplining the
people whose grievances he was preparing to redress by force.
Whether the high estimation in which his military character was held by
the United Irishmen was justly merited or not, is a question that can
never be determined. He had many essential qualities to command popular
respect, and fit him to become a revolutionary leader--high birth,
family influence, singleness of purpose, devotion not to be mistaken,
and courage beyond a doubt. But he seems to have been a self-willed
and most imprudent man, and, if his biography may be credited, the last
person upon earth to whose absolute direction a nation’s fate, and
the fortunes of a mighty and complicated movement, should have been
entrusted.
It was perfectly notorious to the Government that Lord Edward was deeply
implicated in the conspiracy; that he was the life and spirit of the
plot, the hope of the revolutionists, and the selected leader of the
intended insurrection. When the arrest at Bond’s, due to Reynolds’s
treacherous disclosures, had fallen like the stroke of a thunderbolt
upon the Union, and paralysed the boldest, it was whispered in that
gloomy hour that Lord Edward had escaped abroad, and therefore the cause
was not altogether desperate. That he had not been found at the secret
meeting of the Leinster committee was a heavy disappointment to the
Executive. It was true that, in the seizure of the delegates, the
conspiracy had received a stunning blow, but it was ‘scotched, not
killed.’ Lord Edward was at liberty, and consequently the masterspirit
was abroad. On the score of humanity, of policy, or both, it had been
hinted by the Irish Government that his escape would be connived at, and
the ports left open, if he would secretly quit the kingdom. Mr. Ogilvie,
Lord Edward’s foster-father, hastened to Dublin, and interviewed Lord
Clare; the Lord Chancellor expressed himself with the most friendly
warmth on the subject, counselling Lord Edward’s stepfather: ‘For God’s
sake get this young man out of the country; the ports shall be thrown
open to you, and no hindrance whatever offered.’
The offer was conveyed to Lord Edward, and rejected by him; no course
remained but to apprehend him if possible, and thus deprive the hydra
of its head. Among others, he was afterwards denounced by proclamation
dated the nth of May, and £1000 offered for such secret information as
might lead to his arrest.
On quitting Leinster House, the first place where Lord Edward sought
concealment was the domicile of a widow lady situated on the banks of
the canal. Thither, three nights after the surprise of the Leinster
committee, he was conveyed in disguise, and there he remained a month
undiscovered, although, with an imprudence not pardonable in a leader on
whose safety a mighty movement hinged, he too frequently exposed himself
to detection. For the feelings of the lover-husband, that would induce
him to risk everything to visit an idolised wife and the children, even
a callous heart would find or frame an apology. As Moore relates: ‘Her
ladyship had immediately, on the disappearance of Lord Edward, removed
from the Duke of Leinster’s to a house in Denzel Street, taking with her
an attached female servant and the negro Tony, her husband’s favourite.
The two latter believed, as did most people, that their master had
fled to France, and it was therefore with no small surprise that the
maidservant saw, in going into her lady’s room late in the evening, his
lordship and Lady Edward sitting together by the light of the fire. The
youngest child had, at his desire, been brought down out of its bed for
him to see it, and both he and Lady Edward were, as the maid thought, in
tears.’ Circumstanced as he was, unnecessary exposure was unpardonable.
His person might be considered a sort of public property, and yet we
find him walking most nights along the banks of the canal, jumping
in and out of boats to amuse a child he had made his companion, and
afterwards by sheer recklessness falsifying the incognito of an assumed
name.
How Lord Edward could have evaded detection so long appears astonishing.
An enormous reward was offered for his detection, and, as the plot
became further unfolded, the alarm of the Government for its own
existence superseded every other thought, and all considerations of
mercy were lost in their fears. At the period, therefore, where we are
now arrived, the search after his lordship was, by the emissaries of
authority, pursued with as much eagerness as political zeal, urged by
fear and revenge, could inspire.
Lord Edward at last seemed awakened to his danger, and it was considered
by himself and friends that a longer residence where he was might
be hazardous and lead to a discovery. Another asylum was accordingly
provided for him at a feather merchant’s house in Thomas Street, and
at Murphy’s, as the owner was called, he remained for several days in
safety.
On the 30th March the kingdom had been declared by proclamation ‘in
actual rebellion,’ the troops were directed to act without magisterial
authority whenever their own officers deemed it proper. This fearful
order loosed a licentious soldiery upon the country, and every hope
of averting bloodshed ended. As the great object of the revolutionary
leaders was to prevent a premature explosion, agents were despatched to
hold out encouragement to the disaffected that a French invasion
would speedily be reattempted. But a double failure had damped the
expectations of the Directory. Hoche, the apostle of this adventurous
policy, was in his grave; Bonaparte, bent on other objects, and
unfriendly to an Irish demonstration; and without foreign assistance
it became evident to the conspirators that ‘themselves must strike the
blow.’ The plot was on the verge of coming to a head.
For the following fortnight Lord Edward--whose leadership counted for
so much at the opportune and decisive moment of actual outburst--made
Murphy’s house his place of concealment. Even there he received company
(some of his friends were regarded as traitors to the cause), walked
out at night, and, disguised in women’s clothes, visited Lady Edward in
Denzel Street. He then changed his residence, and sought shelter in
the houses of tradesmen, named Moore and Corwick, situated in the same
street.
Some circumstances gave alarm to his friends, and Lord Edward a second
time was conducted to his suburban retreat, and placed again in charge
of his former hostess. Things were approaching a climax. On the 11th of
May the proclamation that offered L.1000 for his apprehension appeared;
the day for the insurrection was appointed; John Sheares despatched to
Cork to raise the southern rebels; and, for the purpose of holding a
closer communion with the Dublin leaders, Lord Edward quitted the
house of his faithful protectress on the 13th May, and on the 18th he
re-entered Murphy’s, and only left it on the 19th for a cell, wherein to
linger out a few miserable days, and expire in the common jail, without
a friend or relative to watch ‘the spirit’s parting’!
[[[THE ARREST OF LORD EDWARD FITZGERALD]]]
|It was evident that the Government were cognisant of these plans. The
date of the rising had been determined, Lord Edward was to head the
movement; his commanding officer’s uniform was ready, but it was
preordained that the commander-in-chief of the rebel forces would never
appear in it. From this distant point of view the operations of the
Government resembled the movements of the watchful cat prepared to
spring upon the doomed mouse.
On the night preceding the 18th of May it was arranged that Lord Edward,
the hero and hope of the movement, now on the eve of being declared
openly, should resume his residence with Murphy in Thomas Street, and
he set out, accordingly, under a strong escort of his followers. One of
those affrays, of common occurrence in those days of terror--which this
popular escort seemed destined to attract--resulted.
It is quite evident from this occurrence that his betrayal was
already complete. Of Lord Edward’s intended movements Sirr, the Dublin
town-major, had received certain information; and this officer was on
the spot, ready prepared to stultify the plans of the conspirators. Sirr
had with him a party for the purpose, and as either of two streets would
have conducted Lord Edward to his destination, the town-major divided
his myrmidons,--one section occupied Wading Street, the other was posted
in Dirty Lane.
A similar precaution happened to be adopted by Lord Edward’s escort;
there consequently ensued in both these streets a conflict between the
parties. In the street affair John McCabe, a very active member of
the United Irishmen, was seized and made a prisoner; he was afterwards
tried, convicted, and executed. Lord Edward, by a miracle, was left
free for the moment. Sirr, bearing the brunt of the struggle, found
his opponents overstrong, and was nearly losing his life. In defending
himself with a sword, which he had snatched from one of his assailants,
he lost his footing and fell; and had not those with whom he was engaged
in a hand-to-hand scuffle been much more occupied with their noble
charge than with him, Sirr could hardly have escaped. A pistol or two
was snapped at the fallen officer, and the group passed on with Lord
Edward to Murphy’s.
The house was under surveillance. On the morning following, evidently
the eve of the insurrection, the generalissimo of the United Irishmen’s
uniform--dark green, faced with scarlet--was delivered by an old woman
to Murphy. This ‘his already nervous host’ concealed under goat-skins in
his warehouse. At noon a party of soldiers suddenly entered the street,
and suspiciously halted before Moore’s house, the man who had formerly
sheltered Lord Edward. Alarmed for the safety of his guest, the feather
merchant conveyed him by a trap door to the roof of his warehouse, and
in one of the valleys which ran between the houses.
Lord Edward remained for two or three hours, until the alarm had
subsided, and the soldiers had left the street.
At the usual hour dinner was served, and Neilson, a constant and most
imprudent visitor, was invited to join Murphy and his noble guest. The
cloth ‘had not been many minutes removed, when Neilson, as if suddenly
recollecting something, hurried out of the room and left the house;
shortly after which, Mr. Murphy, seeing that his guest was not
inclined to drink any wine, went downstairs. In a few minutes, however,
returning, he found that his lordship had, in the interim, gone to his
bedroom, and, on following him thither, saw him lying without his
coat upon the bed. There had now elapsed, from the time of Neilson’s
departure, not more than ten minutes, and it is asserted that he had, in
going out, left the hall door open.’
[Illustration: 0449]
At this moment Major Sirr, who had but just received an intimation from
the Castle of the place where Lord Edward was concealed, proceeded in
hackney-coaches to arrest him, attended by eight soldiers in coloured
clothes, and accompanied by Captains Swan and Ryan. While Sirr was
disposing the soldiers below to prevent any chance of escape, Swan
hurried upstairs, entered the apartment, and, approaching the bed, told
Lord Edward that he was a prisoner. Lord Edward jumped out of bed, and
Swan, perceiving that he was determined on resistance, snapped, or, as
others say, discharged a pistol ineffectually, and then closing with his
antagonist, both rolled upon the bed. In the struggle which ensued Lord
Edward stabbed his opponent on the hand and body repeatedly, when Ryan
entered the chamber and rushed to the assistance of his companion,
lunging at Lord Edward with a cane-sword, which, however, turned on
the ribs, and only inflicted a flesh wound. All three fell on the floor
together; in the _mêlée_ which followed Ryan received a mortal stab, and
when Sirr entered he found Lord Edward on his feet endeavouring to reach
the door, while Swan and Ryan held on desperately by the legs to prevent
it. Threatened as he was with a fate similar to his companions, Sirr
had no alternative but to fire, and aiming his pistol deliberately, he
lodged the contents in Lord Edward’s right arm near the shoulder. The
wound for a moment staggered him; but as he again rallied, and was
pushing towards the door, Major Sirr called up the soldiers, and so
desperate were the captive’s struggles that they found it necessary to
lay their firelocks across him before he could be disarmed or bound so
as to prevent further mischief. Clearly the powers would have preferred
to take this unfortunate and embarrassing prisoner dead--the history
of the affair makes this evident--three attempts all more or less
deliberate had been made on the captive’s life in the short encounter.
An eminent surgeon was immediately brought to the assistance of the
wounded men; Ryan’s injury was pronounced the most dangerous--he had
commenced his share in the affray by attempting to run their captive
through the body. Swan’s wounds, though numerous, were not severe, and
on examination Dr. Adreen expressed an opinion that Lord Edward’s were
not mortal. The surgeon’s communication elicited a brief but significant
remark, ‘I am sorry, doctor, to hear it’!
On the arrival of a cavalry picket and the Rainsford Street guard the
wounded men were removed, and Lord Edward was taken to the Castle in
a sedan, and carried into the office of the Secretary of the War
Department. On his arrest being communicated to Lord Camden, orders
were given that the State surgeon should instantly examine and dress his
wounds; while with a feeling honourable to his well-known humanity, the
Viceroy transmitted by his own secretary a private message to the
noble prisoner, giving him an assurance of receiving every indulgence
consistent with personal safety. The message was conveyed by Mr. Watson,
whose account of the melancholy interview is graphic and interesting. ‘I
found Lord Edward leaning back on a couple of chairs, his arm
extended, and supported by the surgeon, who was dressing the wound. His
countenance was pallid, but serene; and when I told him, in a low voice,
not to be overheard, my commission from the Lord Lieutenant, and that I
was going to break the intelligence of what had occurred to Lady Edward,
asking him, with every assurance of my fidelity and secrecy, whether
there was any confidential communication he wished to be made to
her ladyship, or whether I could undertake any other act of personal
kindness in his service, he answered merely, but collectedly, “No, no,
thank you--nothing, nothing--only break it to her tenderly.”’
After a delay of several hours, during which time his wounds had been
carefully attended to, Lord Edward was removed to Newgate under a strong
military guard, and placed in Lord Aid-borough’s room. As the carriage
and escort passed from the Castle to the prison, the countenances and
demeanour of the disaffected indicated how deeply they felt the loss
of the leader on whom they had placed so much dependence. To attempt a
rescue was determined, and, in full assurance that the effort would be
made, the garrison remained under arms throughout the night.
On the 31st of May Captain Ryan died of his wounds, but it was
considered, though the heat of the weather was against him, that Lord
Edward would recover. Attended by a kind-hearted militia officer named
Stone, and constantly visited by the State surgeon, there is no doubt
that the severity attendant on his confinement as imputed to the
authorities was exaggerated.
Lord Edward lingered to the 1st June, when his wounds assumed an
unhealthy appearance and fever set in; the death of Captain Ryan had
transpired, and the knowledge that his victim was no more added poignant
sorrow to a mind already excited too seriously. It is said that the
confusion and noise attending on the execution of a young man named
Clinch increased this mental irritation. On the 2nd of June Lord Edward
became delirious, and the attendance of a keeper from a mad-house was
deemed necessary. On the 3rd reason returned, but his strength had sunk
completely. The authorities gave a tardy consent for his brother and
sister to visit him, a concession Lord Clare had seen fit to withhold
until the last. Lady Louisa Conolly relates they saw he was cast for
death--‘The two dear brothers frequently embraced each other, to the
melting of a heart of stone; and yet God enabled both Henry and myself
to remain quite composed. As every one left the room we told him we only
were with him. He said, “That is very pleasant.” However, he remained
silent, and I then brought in the subject of Lady Edward, and told him I
had not left her until I saw her on board; and Henry told him of having
met her on the road well. He said, “And the children, too? She is a
charming woman,” and then became silent again. That expression about
Lady Edward proved to me that his senses were much lulled, and that he
did not feel his situation to be what it was; but, thank God! they were
enough alive to receive pleasure from seeing his brother and me. Dear
Henry, in particular, he looked at continually with an expression of
pleasure.’
Immediately after Lord Henry and his sister had taken leave convulsions
came on violently, and at two o’clock in the morning of the 4th, a
gallant, generous, and enthusiastic spirit--would that it had been
better directed I--parted.
After an inquest the body was interred in the cemetery of St. Werburgh,
the funeral being conducted as privately as possible to prevent any
exhibition of popular feeling, which, had it been more public, would
have been certain to occur.
[[[ARREST OF THE BROTHERS SHEARES]]]
|The capture of Lord Edward on the eve of the rebellion was followed
by the arrest of the brothers Sheares; and had the Government required
documentary evidence to establish the ruthless spirit with which the
ends of the conspiracy would have been carried out, a military memoir
found in the writing-desk of the ill-directed young nobleman, and a
sanguinary manifesto in the handwriting of John Sheares, and discovered
in the house of his brother Henry, would have been amply sufficient.
Lord Edward’s document was purely military, and, although highly
mischievous, it was defensible; but the proclamation to be issued on
the 24th of May betrayed a ferocity of intention which no circumstances
could palliate. Every paragraph seemed traced in blood; and while the
sanguinary course of action which it inculcated deprived the unhappy
author of that sympathy which his fate might have otherwise obtained,
those who would rescue his memory from the odium of savage purpose have
wisely grounded its defence upon the only pardonable excuse--insanity.
[[[JOHN SHEARES’ BLOODTHIRSTY MANIFESTO]]]
|This explosive manifesto had been prepared in anticipation that the
sanguinary programme laid down for the 23rd of May, the outbreak of
the rebellion in the capital, had been successfully carried out to its
reckless sequel:--
‘Irishmen, your country is free, and you are about to be avenged. That
vile Government, which has so long and so cruelly oppressed you, is no
more. Some of its most atrocious masters _have already paid the forfeit
of their lives_, and the rest are in our hands. The national flag, the
_sacred green_, is at this moment flying over the ruins of despotism!
‘As for those degenerate wretches who turn their swords against their
native country, the national vengeance awaits them. _Let them find
no quarter_, unless they shall prove their repentance by speedily
exchanging the standard of slavery for that of freedom.
‘Under the conduct of your chosen leaders march with a steady step to
victory. Heed not the glare of hired soldiery, or aristocratic yeomanry:
they cannot stand the vigorous shock of freedom. Their trappings and
their arms will soon be yours; and the detested Government of England,
to which we vow eternal hatred, shall learn that the treasures it
exhausts on its accoutred slaves for the purpose of butchering Irishmen
shall but _further enable us to turn their swords on its devoted head_.
Attack them in every direction by day and by night; avail the natural
advantages of your country, which are and with which you are better
acquainted than they. Where you cannot oppose them in full force
constantly harass their rear and their flanks; cut off their provisions
and magazines, and prevent them as much as possible from uniting their
forces; let whatever moments you cannot devote to fighting for your
country be passed in learning how to fight for it, or preparing the
means of war--for war, war alone must occupy every mind and every hand
in Ireland, until its long-oppressed soil be purged of all its enemies.
Vengeance, Irishmen, vengeance on your oppressors. Remember that
thousands of your dearest friends have perished by their merciless
orders. Remember their burnings, their rackings, their torturings, their
military massacres, and their legal murders. Remember Orr!’
[[[OUTBREAK OF THE REBELLION]]]
|The crisis hurried on rapidly. On the morning of the 21st, the Viceroy
officially to the Lord Mayor, and the day following, through Lord
Castlereagh, apprised the House of Commons, ‘that his Excellency had
received information that the disaffected had been daring enough to form
a plan for the purpose of possessing themselves, in the course of the
present week, of the metropolis, of seizing the seat of Government,
and those in authority within the city; that, in consequence of that
information, he had directed every military precaution to be taken which
seemed expedient; that he had made full communication to the magistrates
for the direction of their efforts; and that he had not a doubt, by the
measures which would be pursued, the designs of the rebellious would be
effectually and entirely crushed.’
A spirited and dutiful answer was voted by the Commons. ‘The Speaker and
all the members immediately waited on his Excellency with the
address; and to show their zeal, and to increase the solemnity of the
proceedings, they walked through the streets on foot, two and two,
preceded by the Speaker, the sergeant-at-arms, and all the officers of
the house.’
The 23rd of May, a day that must ever carry with it deplorable
recollections, dawned upon a city destined before another sun should
rise to undergo every horror that attends a civil war. A gloom
overspread the countenances of the royalists. Enough had been
communicated by the Executive to convince the most sceptical that the
long portending thundercloud was on the eve of bursting--and still the
moment of actual insurrection continued veiled in impenetrable mystery.
Evening came, and no positive information of revolutionary outbreak
as yet had reached the Castle. A Government spy, late in the day,
communicated authentic intelligence, that the picket of yeomanry
cavalry at Rathfarnham would that night be surprised and cut off, and,
consequently, instead of a sergeant’s party the whole troop mounted
for patrol. After narrowly escaping an ambush, Lieutenant La Touche
ascertained that the rebels had actually risen, and an express, carried
by a trooper called Bennett, was immediately despatched to apprise the
Lord Lieutenant of the insurrection. The duty--one of the many instances
of the zeal and personal gallantry with which the Irish yeomanry
evidenced their fealty and devotion to the Government--was truly
perilous, for the rebels in great numbers were collecting in the road
and adjacent fields in the vicinity of Dublin. In the city, particularly
the suburbs, the yeoman saw a great number of rebels with pikes, in the
gateways, alleys, and stable-lanes, waiting the beat of their drums
and the approach of rebel columns from the country which they were
expecting; and as he passed they frequently cried out, animating each
other, ‘Come on, boys! who’s afraid?’
Immediately the garrison and yeomanry drums beat to arms, and the latter
hurried to their alarm-posts. The North Cork Militia were formed in
Stephen’s Green, and the bridges of the canals, which stretch along the
city north and south, were occupied by strong pickets. Those crossing
the Liffey were also secured, and the communications completely
interrupted.
For some nights previous to the 23rd of May beacon fires were seen on
the Wicklow mountains, whose luminous appearance by night and whose
smoke by day served as signals to the disaffected in the metropolis and
in all the adjacent country. The same practice took place on all the
mountains which extend from the Scalp in the county of Wicklow to Mount
Leinster in the county of Wexford.
Where existed any necessity for this idle and unnecessary display, when
all was organised and ready, and any striking exhibition must naturally
add to the alarm which every prudential motive should have allayed? Why
increase the fears and consequently the vigilance of the Executive? In
secrecy of purpose lay success, and all was in favour of it could the
authorities be lulled into a false and fatal security. The yeomanry
corps, which in a few days afterwards were purified of traitors, at the
moment of the outbreak abounded in United Irishmen, upon whom no shadow
of suspicion had yet fallen. ‘It was discovered,’ says Sir Richard
Musgrave in his narrative, ‘that near nine-tenths of the Roman Catholics
in the yeomanry corps were United Irishmen, and had taken an oath to be
true to the rebels in direct contradiction to their sworn allegiance,
and yet many of them, after taking the United oath, had, by deliberate
and pre-determined perjury, joined the yeomanry corps for the purpose of
getting arms in their hands, learning the use of them, and turning
them against the loyalists perhaps in the very moment of danger. In the
subsequent development of the conspiracy there occurred direct evidence
of the loyalist corps deliberately joining the rebels they were sworn to
subdue at the critical juncture of the encounters.
The domestic servants of Dublin were deeply engaged in the conspiracy,
and hence every action of their employers was revealed, and the safety
of every house was compromised. Even the lamplighters lent their
assistance, and darkness was prearranged to assist--as it would do most
effectively--a sudden outburst, by neutralising the advantages which
daylight secures to disciplined troops in a conflict with fierce and
tumultuary assailants.
It has been already mentioned that the stoppage of the mail-coaches was
to be the signal for a general rising. On the evening of the 23rd, at
Santry, the Belfast mail was burned; the Limerick stopped on the Curragh
of Kildare, and both guard and coachman murdered; the Athlone coach was
destroyed at Lucan, and the Cork mail at Naas.
A number of petty affairs followed the instant outbreak of the
rebellion, all characterised by the atrocities attending civil war.
In these affairs the rebels were generally repulsed; but in a few
they unhappily succeeded, and always by surprise, treachery, or the
imprudence of the royalists. Of these we shall meet instances in the
course of our illustrations. As regards the outbreak in the capital,
naturally the capture of Dublin was the grand and primary object at
which the conspirators unanimously aimed; and a simultaneous movement on
the metropolis by the Kildare rebels was to have seconded the efforts
of the disaffected within the city. Everything was in favour of success;
and, as the garrison was almost drained of regular troops, and its
safety entrusted to the yeomanry, that circumstance was not overlooked
by the rebel leaders. In barracks soldiers cannot be easily surprised;
a few taps from the drum, and a very few minutes are quite sufficient to
place a regiment in battle order; but to collect irregulars, dispersed
and distant from the alarm-posts they have been directed to assemble
at, is a work of time, and equally difficult and precarious, as, in an
attempt to reach the posts assigned, individuals and isolated parties
are readily intercepted and overpowered.
This was the great design of the insurgents, and nothing could have
been more easily effected when aided by the darkness of night and the
intricacies of a city crowded with houses, and intersected by narrow
lanes.
By an unaccountable oversight the canals, which covered two sides of
Dublin, had been left open, when by stockading the bridges they could
have easily been rendered defensible, and have thus placed an impassable
obstruction to any bodies who might approach the city from Kildare.
Before the royalists occupied the bridges numbers of insurgents from
the country had crossed over, and it was computed that by one northern
turnpike more than two thousand strangers had entered the city during
the evening and succeeding night.
Of the chief plans propounded by the rebel leaders, the capture of the
Castle with the high authorities it contained, the cutting off of
the royalists in detached parties as they hurried to their respective
alarm-posts at the beat to arms of rebel drums, with an attack on the
jail of Newgate, the liberation of their friends the State prisoners
there incarcerated, formed the grand objects of their midnight movement.
The guiding spirit was evidently lacking, for the head had been cut
off. On the plans of action there was a division of opinion among the
existing leaders. John Sheares confined the intended operations of
his followers to dealing with the Castle and disposing of the inmates.
Neilson, it was arranged, should attack the jail. Accident interfered;
neither plan had any success, and the leader found himself at midnight
the inmate of the prison from which he had falsely calculated that he
was going to liberate his imprisoned confederates.
Southwell C. McClure, a rebel colonel, who had been pardoned, gave
evidence that Neilson had made preparations for his task, and taken
elaborate preparations for the carrying out of his plan on Newgate and
cutting off the loyalist auxiliaries in detail. He had assembled at a
house in Church Lane, a noted rendezvous for rebels, fifteen colonels
representing as many battalions; to each of these leaders he had
produced a map of Dublin, and assigned to each the post which each
colonel and his regiment was to occupy that night. In his attack upon
Newgate he was to have been seconded by a large body of rebels,
headed by Seagrave, who was to have secured possession of Mr. Halpin’s
distillery, the windows of which flanked it, and they were to have
kept up a constant fire on the front of the prison, while another party
scaled the walls in a different quarter. Neilson’s preparations promised
to prove formidable, and at ten o’clock this leader, having a body of
rebels collected in some fields contiguous to-Eccles Street, proceeded
to reconnoitre Newgate and point out the best points of attack to his
supporters. Escalade, supported by a commanding fire of musketry, was
the plan adopted, and from the manner in which the prison was domineered
the attempt might have easily succeeded. In the most suspicious manner
Neilson was always found doing compromising acts. His behaviour had
helped to compromise Lord Edward’s security, and on this occasion he
seems to have deliberately sacrificed his plans and his safety at the
critical juncture, and thus compromised the entire scheme.
Some waste ground, then covered with heaps of market offal, and close to
the prison, enabled a person to examine the building unperceived, and of
this advantage Neilson, already well acquainted with the locality, had
availed himself. In the darkness he trod upon a child, and the
outcry brought its mother to the spot. The woman was drunk, an angry
altercation followed, and no apology which Neilson could offer would
conciliate the irritated poissarde. The noise naturally attracted
attention; persons hastened to the spot, and among others Mr. Gregg,
the jailor. Neilson, having already been in his custody, was perfectly
familiar to Gregg. The latter immediately arrested him, a desperate
resistance was offered, a pistol snapped, and a doubtful struggle
ensued. Under a belief that Gregg’s assault on Neilson was occasioned by
his resentment of the injury offered to her child, the fishwoman so far
contributed by her clamour to mystify the affray that the line of posts
which Neilson had established between Newgate and Eccles Street thought
the noise only a squabble of drunken fishwomen, and waited in idle
expectation for Neilson’s return and orders to advance, until the
capture transpired in an hour or two, and the party took alarm and
disbanded.
In a popular movement failure or success at first generally decides
its fortunes. The attempt on the capital signally miscarried. The
master-spirit was wanting at the hour of action, and he who might have
given a fatal direction to efforts ill-directed and uncombined, was,
with his abler associates, immured within the walls of a prison. Upon
individuals alike wanting in courage and ability the hurried choice of
revolutionary leadership had fallen. If Neilson’s imprudent visits to
Lord Edward before the arrest subjected him to a charge of treachery
afterwards, his conduct on the night he reconnoitred Newgate proves
him to have been quite unfitted for command. That a man known to every
turnkey should have personally examined a building in which he had been
so long confined appeared, from its extreme rashness, almost to indicate
indifference to the consequences of discovery.
[[[THE REBELLION OFFICIALLY PROCLAIMED]]]
|On the morning of the 24th two proclamations were issued--the one from
General Lake, the other from Alderman Fleming. Both were stringent, but
the circumstances of the times admitted of no temporising measures:--
‘Lieutenant-General Lake, commanding his Majesty’s forces in this
kingdom, having received from his Excellency the Lord Lieutenant full
powers to put down the rebellion, and to punish rebels in the most
summary manner, according to martial law, does hereby give notice to
all his Majesty’s subjects, that he is determined to exert the
powers entrusted to him in the most vigorous manner for the immediate
suppression of the same; and that all persons acting in the present
rebellion, or in any way aiding or assisting therein, will be treated by
him as rebels, and punished accordingly.
‘And Lieutenant-General Lake hereby requires all the inhabitants of the
city of Dublin (the great officers of State, members of the houses of
Parliament, privy councillors, magistrates, and military persons in
uniform excepted) to remain within their respective dwellings from nine
o’clock at night till five in the morning, under pain of punishment.’
The Lord Mayor’s proclamation was equally to the point and equally
judicious:--
‘Whereas the circumstances of the present crisis demand every possible
precaution; these are therefore to desire all persons who have
registered arms forthwith to give in, in writing, an exact list or
inventory of such arms at the town-clerk’s office, who will file and
enter the same in books to be kept for that purpose. And all persons who
have not registered these arms are hereby required forthwith to deliver
up to me, or some other magistrate of this city, all arms and ammunition
of every kind in their possession. And if, after this proclamation, any
person having registered arms shall be found not to have given in a true
list or inventory of such arms, or if any person who has not registered
shall be found to have in their power or possession any arms or
ammunition whatever, such person or persons will, on such arms being
discovered, be forthwith sent on board his Majesty’s navy, as by law
directed.
‘And I do hereby desire that all housekeepers do place upon the
outside of their doors a list of persons in their respective houses,
distinguishing such as are strangers from those who actually make
part of their family; but as there may happen to be persons who, from
pecuniary embarrassments, are obliged to conceal themselves, I do not
require such names to be placed on the outside of the door, provided
their names are sent to me. And I hereby call upon his Majesty’s
subjects within the county of the city of Dublin immediately to comply
with this regulation, as calculated for the public security; as those
persons who shall wilfully neglect a regulation so easy and salutary, as
well as persons giving false statements of the inmates of their houses,
must, in the present crisis, abide the consequences of such neglect.’
[[[SURPRISE OF THE BARRACKS OF PROSPEROUS]]]
|The outbreaks in the immediate vicinity of Dublin come next in
the order of alike the chronological sequence of events and of the
illustrations. Slight affairs occurred on the night of the 23rd,
and upon the following day. At Rathfarnham, Lucan, Lusk, Collan, and
Baltinglass the royalists and rebels came in contact, and the latter
were repulsed. At Dunboyne and Barretstown the escorts of some baggage
(Reay and Suffolk Fencibles) were surprised. On the succeeding day
Clane, Naas, Ballymore-Eustace, Kilcullen, and Prosperous were attacked,
and with the exception of the latter, in every effort the rebels were
unsuccessful.