Kitabı oku: «My Lords of Strogue. Volume 2 of 3», sayfa 14
When the tide at New Ross began to turn against the insurgents, Father Roche-whose reason had toppled, who was mad in that his influence had shrivelled away from him-swore to be revenged somehow, not on his own erring flock, but on those whom the ill-conditioned god of war was permitting to win the day! It was one of those awful moments when blinding ferocity dictates unchecked, which make one almost believe in the existence of Lucifer; when the human tendency to evil seems to pile itself up into a monument of what wickedness may be able to accomplish. A messenger was despatched to Scullabogue with a command to immolate the prisoners. Their gaoler, appalled at this cold-blooded order, refused to obey it unless the directions were more explicit. These arrived in due course, very clear indeed. 'The priest says the prisoners must be put to death.' There was no disobeying this. Croppies took off their long coats to carry out the priest's decree. The handful of men were brought out and shot; the doors were firmly barred; the barn was set ablaze there is no use in going into detail.
* * * * *
By-and-by the flames slackened; the fire smouldered with fetid smoke; all was still within. The three hundred innocent women and children had been consumed as a holocaust on the altar of his majesty King George; who, large-minded man, was consistently without mercy for the Isle which God had given to his keeping; who was pitiless for the professors of a faith which did not agree with his own fancy; who, by reason of his policy regarding Ireland, must be held accountable for the tragedy which took place on that fifth of June within the barn at Scullabogue.
CHAPTER XIV.
VÆ VICTIS!
After all, Scullabogue was but a retaliation for the eccentricities of the Gibbet-Rath, where the upper class had given the lower a harsh lesson in the amenities of warfare. The effect of any great breach of the law of order is always to throw out of gear the minds of those who come within its influence, which disturbance varies in form according to the mental state of the individual affected. The sensitive shrink appalled; those whose latent propensities to violence are usually kept within bounds by the law of order escape from its trammels. A large part of the community is kept to decent courses by fear of social regulations. It needs but the disturbing force of war, aided by the example of crime in superiors, to weaken this compelling sense of discipline and let loose the natural passions.
But let us hurry on; the tale is distressing still, though time has masked it with a veil of ninety years.
A body of insurgents succeeded in taking Wexford, whose garrison evacuated it, retiring to Duncannon in disorder. The loyalists there who had howled over the loss of Enniscorthy, and were still in the dark as to the tactics of the Executive, grew furious. What was this? The Helots were ousting their lords and masters, were daring to be successful; even presumed to follow the example of the squireens, who had set the fashion of practical jokes. What is fun in one person may become impudence in another. Pitch-caps and half hangings were met by carding-a bit of genuine humour, whereby the rebels proceeded to tear the backs of their prisoners with boards stuck full of nails. So long as the loyalists had it their own way the conceit was amusing; now it became revoltingly vulgar. Retaliations and reprisals followed thick on one another. It was no longer a struggle of man against man, but of beast against beast-worse, of savage against savage.
Murphy's detachment, which, it will be remembered, fled precipitately at sight of a cloud of dust, rallied, and hung about the neighbourhood watching the moment to attack. They got horses how they could; sacked and burned private dwellings, whose rare spoils in the way of books were converted into saddles, with hay-ropes for stirrups. For ammunition they used pebbles or hardened balls of clay, and by pounding the necessary materials in mortars, fabricated a kind of gunpowder which, while fresh, served its purpose well enough. Two or three cannons which they had captured were mounted on jaunting-cars, and exploded in awkward fashion by means of wisps of straw in guise of matches. Strange men, in half priestly garb, arose among the dragons' teeth, wearing one a helmet, another a clerical head-piece or discarded bearskin; vying one with the other in ferocious recklessness. It was now a religious crusade indeed, Protestant against Catholic, Catholic against Protestant, to the very death. Theological quibbles were forcibly disentangled.
The little garrison of Gorey, which had done such good service by sallying out and frightening the rebels, begged for reinforcements. Such a deed of prowess as was theirs may not, without serious hazard, be repeated twice. It would be awkward for Gorey to fall just now, for it was on the high road to the capital, and an accident might produce fatal riots there. Therefore, although it was not in accordance with the plan laid down, it was resolved at the Castle to assist Gorey. One Walpole, a carpet-knight, connected by blood with my lord Camden, was sent out to try his wings; and he caracoled upon his excursion as, in a non-hunting district, one might go out to exterminate a batch of fox cubs. Carelessly he led his reinforcements, enlivening the way with buoyant jest, as if the enemy was too contemptible to be really dangerous; neglecting the commonest precautions, though warned of his rashness by his officers. At a spot called Tubbineering the aspect of the landscape, flat hitherto, changes. The road leaves the open, and plunges between high banks, with wide ditches at their bases, and rows of close bushes on their tops. Dense hedges intersect the fields, which (in the month of June) are thick with luxuriant foliage, while the ground is occupied by rich potato-crops, standing corn, and waving grass, affording ample concealment for such as may choose to lurk in it.
Through this defile Walpole led his men towards Gorey, carolling his stave, piping his little song, in close column, without flanking parties or skirmishers. The infantry were well advanced. As the road narrowed the progress of the column became slow and difficult. Suddenly, from the enclosures, a wild yell burst forth, accompanied by a rain of musketry. The carpet-knight fell on the first fire. The confusion was tremendous; to fight or to retreat impossible. The height and mazy number of the fences made the ground most favourable for bandit warfare, as the long pikes of the insurgents reached well-nigh across the narrow road, and those who escaped the first fire were perforated from behind by invisible assailants. The surprise of the troops was complete. Dragoons and infantry rolled in hopeless confusion one on the other. They were butchered to a man. The victorious rebels followed up their advantage, and hastened to occupy Gorey, but alas! cajoled by whisky the men of Father Murphy were no more tractable than the men of Father Roche. Vainly he set mattrasses against the cellar-doors, in hopes that these would escape their scrutiny. But the instinct of Pat would find out a cellar-door on the pitchiest night. Regardless of the father's exhortations, Pat hurried to put that in his mouth which should steal away his brains-aye, and his hopes too-and remained in a frantic paroxysm of drunkenness for five whole days and nights.
Now, had this triumphant detachment (twenty thousand strong it was) marched straight on Arklow, then on Wicklow, both would certainly have given way without an effort, and Father Murphy's ambition might have been gratified of sleeping in my lord Camden's bed. But as the elements fought for England, so did the unstable Irish nature combat on the side of the Executive. There was a panic, of course, in Dublin. The Senate tore up Dame Street to the Castle, begging, with tears, that their valuable lives might not be placed in jeopardy. And the Privy Council, perceiving that things might be going just a little too far, graciously acceded to the humble petition of the faithful Lords and Commons, and despatched reinforcements southwards.
At this moment the position of the insurgents was by no means a despicable one, despite the weakness of their leaders. The failure at New Ross had compelled them for the time to abandon their attack on Waterford. But they held Enniscorthy and its river, and Wexford with its noble harbour; while, for a base of operations, nothing could have been better than Vinegar Hill. To the north, too, they held Gorey, which was almost, from their point of view, the key of the capital itself. The hedges along the Dublin road were alive with disaffected peasants, who were longing for an opportunity of joining the advancing host. Arklow was half garrisoned, Wicklow scarcely garrisoned at all. If the rebel host had, ignoring whisky, marched straight northward, the march would have been an exultant progress of heroes, swelled as it proceeded by a torrent of exhilarated patriots.
But now the mice had played enough. They had nibbled the cheese and made unpleasant holes in it. It was time for the cat to pounce, and to pounce with a will. How dared these arrogant mice make holes in his Majesty's cheese? Arklow would be the next point-of course it would-so soon as the victors of Gorey could tear themselves away from alcohol. Five days of constant intoxication is trying to the most vigorous frame. Five days of cessation of hostilities is eminently convenient to an enemy who desires to act unflurried. Dublin was frightened out of its wits; the heads of the Catholic clergy were indignant and ashamed. Those lords and gentlemen who did not happen to be slaves of Lord Clare, or pensioners of England, shut themselves up in their country mansions to brood over their grief. Erin was in the convulsions which precede dissolution. The Executive-calculating spectators of the agony-deemed it time to come to her succour, provided she would swear an oath to behave herself for ever and ever more. The Executive shook its wig and declared that to stop so awful a scandal any means were permissible. Instead of dribbling reinforcements by two or three hundred at a time, and so feeding the hopes of the rebels with sham victories, the Privy Council promised that the whole military strength at their command should be put in motion to punish the iniquitous with a severe and righteous sternness. Lord Clare assumed a picturesque attitude, in which sorrow was elegantly blended with anger-like that aggressive angel who never sinned, and who, glorying in the fact, postured with his waving sword at the gates of Eden. Lord Camden mumbled, as usual, that the whole affair was 'really too awful;' that he was glad her ladyship was safe; that he ought to be elevated to at least a dukedom as a reward for his prodigious services. The Protestant inhabitants of Wexford, whose lives for the last week or so had resembled those of the chosen people by the waters of Babylon, must instantly be relieved, he gurgled. Enniscorthy must be retaken; the camp at Vinegar Hill, and the hill itself, if necessary, must be blown into smithereens. Small men had been good enough for small work. Now General Lake himself, Commander of the Forces pro tem., must head the Royal troops; the loyal Lords and Commons had no need to knock their knees together, their precious, honourable lives were in no real danger-never had been. General Lake and his men would set matters straight in a trice.
Having torn them at last from the whisky-bottle of Capua, Father Murphy led his forces against Arklow. His men were dispirited, unnerved by excessive carousing. Their heads ached; they felt unwell. Murphy and some other warrior-priests said mass for them as they stood bareheaded in the June sunlight, with nature smiling around.
'It was a holy war,' Murphy said. 'They had been guilty of backsliding; but man is weak and temptation is great; he would pray to the Holy Mother for them, that the cause might not suffer through their sin. He who addressed them, was, as they knew, invulnerable. These myriad bullets which he held in his hand had passed through his coat' ('See, boys, the holes!'), 'but could not hurt his skin. 'Twas the Holy Mother who watched over him and them. He would lead the van. Sure they would follow their priest-their pastor-their friend-their gineral!'
With howls of ecstatic and repentant fervour they cried out that they would. He had always led them to victory, their doughty priest! One more, two more successes, and Dublin would be theirs; then the whole country would unite; the Sassenagh would be driven into the sea; the object of the crusade would be accomplished-and through them, miserable sinners though they were.
They marched against Arklow on the 9th, and were repulsed thence with awful slaughter. The Royalists lost sixty men, the rebels left a thousand corpses stark upon the grass-amongst them, Murphy the invulnerable. With dismay and despair they beheld his body roasted by the enlightened foe; in the gloaming they saw devils, in the guise of yeomen, dancing round the steaming corpse; fiends cleaning their boots with the fat that dripped from it. With howls of superstitious horror now they scurried away in the darkness, over field and hedge and fosse, through dyke and brake, in an agony of desperate fear quite different from a battle-panic, and arrived at length at the rendezvous like madmen, panting, incoherent, to tell their fearsome story.
Orders were issued to the Royalist forces to hold themselves in readiness. They had been ready for months past. A grand combined attack was to be made upon the rebel base, at Vinegar Hill, on the 21st of June. Lock, stock, and barrel, these insolent varlets were to be stamped out of existence, without parleying, as a warning to all traitors. Eight generals (no less) and twenty thousand soldiers were to take part in this glorious field-day. Why had this force lain idle hitherto? Why were driblets despatched to contend with myriads? It was now the 10th. With a cunning steadiness of purpose, almost too wicked even for humankind, ten days were permitted to elapse before the final blow was struck. Ten days of inaction-ten days of rumination over the awful future-ten days wherein to become utterly disorganised, and to commit such deeds as a carefully-fanned flame of accumulated hate and the hopelessness of unutterable despair should dictate. The insurgents saw themselves on the eve of destruction, taught by a bitter past that there was no hope or chance of mercy. Flung out of the pale of humanity, they were to be hunted down like vermin-like vermin then they would fly at the throats of the hunters, and do all the harm they could ere they received the coup de grace. A scene of horror commenced at Wexford, and endured during these ten days, over which we will draw a veil. Those who know aught of this spasm in Irish history will have been already sickened by the deeds on Wexford Bridge, and will be glad to be spared a new recital of them. Suffice it, that if General Lake had started immediately after the repulse of Arklow, these deeds would never have been committed. The desperate wretches would never have entered on their carnival of carnage; would never have been guilty of the crimes which, like Scullabogue and other nightmares, must all lie at good Farmer George's door.
The eight generals and the twenty thousand soldiers set off at last. Lake's plan was committed to paper in the clearest black and white. A simultaneous attack was to be made on Wexford and Enniscorthy, while the main body directed its attention to Vinegar Hill, which was to be carefully surrounded in order that no vermin might escape. If this delectable plan had been successfully carried out, the rebels would have been netted and slaughtered by thousands; but that Providence which had slept so long, which had been so blind to human wrongs, so deaf to human prayers, awoke at last and prevented this wicked thing. At the critical moment two brigades were missing, the circle was incomplete, and, after a feeble cannonade, the rebel masses retired through the gap left by the missing links, to spread terror in the streets of Enniscorthy. Lake was furious. All that ingenuity could suggest had been brought to bear upon his plan. It is provoking when accident upsets our craftiest calculations. He had the mortification to perceive that he had not crushed the rebellion so completely as he had wished-by driving all the malcontents off the face of the earth. He abused his generals, but they showed that the fault was none of theirs; a higher power had checked their movements. Moore had met accidentally with a small detachment of rebels, who engaged him at Foulke's Mill; Needham, with a vivid remembrance of the disaster at Tubberneering, had moved through gorges with caution, delayed now and again by the errors of disaffected guides, the sulky inaction of impressed drivers. Lake might swear, but these were the facts. It was a pity; for, with the exception of the two missing links, the Royalist columns behaved admirably. They arrived at their posts in the nick of time. The rebels, in spite of their strong position, did little damage, for they aimed, as usual, too high. The priestly warriors acted with undaunted bravery, exhorting their men, horsewhipping them, even pistolling some who were endeavouring to seek safety in flight.
Father Roche was everywhere at once, clad in his vestments, with a brass helmet on his head. Father Clinch, of Enniscorthy, a man of huge stature, was conspicuous upon the hill; his broad cross-belts and large white horse were constantly looming through the smoke; his hat, with a crucifix stuck in it, was visible in six places at a time.
But no amount of desperate personal valour could save the doomed crowds. They fell back on Enniscorthy; sued there for mercy, in vain. They promised, as the men of Wexford had just done, to lay down their arms and return to their allegiance. Lake retorted by an offer of terms which were impossible of acceptance, and continued his bloody work. Every foot of Enniscorthy was stubbornly disputed, every yard was fiercely contested. The bridge was cleared at last. The jostling, shrieking mob spread itself upon the plain; their bodies lay heaped about the fields.
So the eight generals were crowned with laurels. The entire struggle had lasted a month, which might have been put down in two days. The enemy was finished off at a single blow-at last-a worthy enemy! An honourable triumph! Disciplined forces had fought successfully against a rabble so besotted as to believe that a blessed bit of paper round the neck would make them bullet-proof; so ignorant as to run after falling shells and pick them up, wondering, as they did so, what the strange things were that 'spat at them.'
When Scotland chose to rise, her misguided antics were repressed at once. Her leaders met the fate which they had courted, and there was an end of the matter. With Ireland it was otherwise. The freaks of her unstable nature were coldly calculated on; gins were set for her sliding feet; she fell into a trap, and grievous was her punishment. When the Americans rose against British misrule, their commanders were always treated with military courtesy. In Ireland masters and men were strung up side by side, or shot down, without a 'by your leave,' like dogs. Till the horror of a war of classes was intensified by the grafting on it of religious fanaticism, the opinions of the malcontents were of the broadest kind. All they demanded was social equality and freedom of conscience. Their demands were met by blows. Innocent and harmless men were lacerated by petty tyranny and wanton ill-usage, till they could endure no more. Then prudence was thrown to the winds. It was like the herd of maddened swine rushing headlong down a precipice into the gulf.
As far as concerns the 'Hurry,' the example of massacre was set in the first instance by the 'Party of Order.' The rebels tried sometimes to proselytise; the Royalists were content to murder. The Royalists were never anything but cruel. The rebels hovered strangely 'twixt lenity and cruelty, according to the humour of the moment. With the supposed advantage of a little education, the squireens out-heroded the conduct of those who were quite ignorant; whereby we may gather that a little knowledge is as fatal as a little of anything else; for their scraps of education, instead of tempering their native savagery, merely served to instil into their warped minds an idea of superiority and dominion.
So far as the Croppies were concerned, the rebellion ended with the clever feat of General Lake. The few who escaped his vengeance spread themselves over the country in predatory bands. Some sought refuge in the Wicklow hills; some perished miserably as banditti; few ever returned to their homes. It was not death so much that the Irish peasant feared. His life was wretched. He had been brought up to consider that three kinds of death were natural-first, in his bed; secondly, by hanging at assize time; thirdly, of collapse when the potato crop went wrong. He could face death. It was torture that he dreaded-the pitch-caps, the picketings, the roastings alive, the lash. These it was that made a savage and a coward of him.
So far as the executive was concerned, the rebellion was by no means over. Gordon, a Protestant clergyman and reliable witness, tells us that 'more than fell in battle in Wexford were slain afterwards in cold blood.' Those who would not surrender were hunted down; those who did were strung up without a form of trial. Vinegar Hill became elastic through the numberless victims who had found rest and a merciful oblivion beneath its sod.
So soon as massacre, in garb of war, had done her work, judicial murder commenced on a more extended scale. When the appetite of Até was sated in the country, she moved with the Eumenides-faithful and obedient maids of honour-to the capital, for change of air and scene.
