CHAPTER VIII.

WHAT Father Rourke has just said, as well as some former remarks we have ourselves made, will lead the reader to expect the following information.

After the great mass of the Insurgents abandoned their position on Vinegar Hill, in advance upon Wexford-which, as we have seen, was yielded to them without a struggle-still a considerable number, attached to their cause, remained on the rocky eminence, ostensibly as a garrison to guard the conquered town below, but really to shun the chance of open fighting, or else to gratify a malignant nature. We might indeed say, that all who acted upon either of the motives mentioned, were influenced by both. For it is generally true, that the bravest man is the least cruel, the coward most so; that he who hesitates not to expose himself in a fair field, yet will hesitate to take life treacherously, coolly, or at a disproportioned advantage over his opponent; while the boastful craven, who shrinks from following in his footsteps, glories to show a common zeal in the same cause, by imbruing his hands in the blood of the already conquered, of the weak, or of the defenceless.

And, apart from the new recruits that continued to come in to the popular place of rendezvous, the majority of the executioners and butchers of Vinegar Hill were, according to the accounts of living chroniclers on both sides of the question, individuals of the kind last hinted at. Amongst these, indeed, mingled some who, if peculiar outrage had not temporarily roused their revenge to a maddening thirst for blood, might never have brutalized themselves, and shamed the nature they bore, by participation in such deeds as were done upon the breezy summit of that fatal hill; but still they were outnumbered by their brethren of a different character; men, demons rather, to be found in all communities, whose natural disposition was murderous, and who, but for the coward fear of retributive justice, would spill blood upon the very hearthstone of household peace. Alas for our boasted nature, when such beings share it!

At the head of the main force, all the principal or more respectable leaders had necessarily taken their departure from "the camp;" yet some persons, also called leaders, remained in nominal command over the skulking mob we have described; themselves scarce raised above the scum and dregs who, for a recognized similarity and aptness of character, rather than for any real merit, chose them as their "capt'ns." And by these men were conducted or de

spatched, during the previous night and day, different bands, in different directions, to seize on provisions, to drive in cattle and sheep, and to lead captive to the rendezvous all whom they might deem enemies to the cause of what was now pompously styledlittle Peter Rooney's heart jumping at the sound-"The Waxford Army of Liberty."

Accordingly, sheep, cows, oxen, and Orangemen, or supposed Orangemen, had, previous to Sir William Judkin's approach to the hill, been abundantly provided for the satiation of the only two cravings felt by their ferocious captors: such of the former as could not immediately be devoured, being suffered to ramble among the rocks and patches of parched grass on the side of the eminence, until hunger again called for a meal; and such of the latter as, from whim or fatigue, were not summarily despatched, being thrust into a prison, a singular one-until revenge, or common murder, again roared for its victims.

On the summit of the height stood a roofless, round building, originally intended for a windmill, but never perfected, because, perhaps, in the middle of the projector's work, it became tardily evident to him, that the river at his feet supplied a better impetus for grinding corn than was to be gained from the fitful breeze, after mounting up the side of the steep hill. In Ireland such buildings rarely occur, inasmuch as, almost in every district, the river or the rill invites the erection of the more diligent water-wheel; and, indeed, we have heard that the half-finished pile in question was the first thought of an English settler, accustomed to such structures in his own country, and subsequently abandoned for the reasons already suggested.

But, at the time of our story, this roofless round tower, about seven paces in diameter, and perhaps twenty-five feet in height, was appropriated to a use very different from that for which it had been planned;-it served, in fact, as a temporary prison for the unfortunate persons captured by the marauding garrison of Vinegar Hill; and many were the victims thrust through its narrow doorway to meet a horrid death on the pikes of the savages abroad.

Never, before or since, in Ireland, did the summer sun dart fiercer rays than, as if in sympathy with the passions and acts it witnessed, during the hot struggle of civil war in the year 1798. And as Sir William Judkin spurred his jaded, smoking horse towards the eminence, beast and rider seemed faint with heat and toil.

It may be asserted, that a bridegroom elect, if young, lovestricken, and of an ardent nature, will sleep little upon the eve of his wedding-day; that a thousand sweet thoughts-but this is not the time farther to image forth the delightful visions which may chase sleep from his pillow. If the anticipations of bliss prove enemies to repose, the furious working of strong passions—of dis

appointed love-devouring rage-and drouthy vengeance, will more surely cause nature to spurn at the thought of slumber. And these assertions being true, it hence appears, that for the last three nights, and up to the evening of the present day, Sir William could have enjoyed no rest. For supposing him kept waking by happiness upon the first night of the three; recollecting that he passed the next partly in Enniscorthy Castle, partly in his visit to Hartley Court, and partly in his wild career back again to Enniscorthy, until his rencounter with Father Rourke; and the next in Wexford prison, after a day not idly wrought through amid the flames, and smoke, and blood of the conquered town, as well as amid an uninterrupted paroxysm of private passion, which gained its climax, when, by the hand of the very loathed rival he sought to trample down, he was himself foiled and made a captive; and when, in the foamings of his rage and despair, repose must have been impossible; supposing and recollecting all this, the young Baronet, as with haggard cheeks, with reeking and dust-stained brows, and with fierce, bloodshot eyes, he now strained up the difficult ascent of Vinegar Hill, must have shown the faintness visible in feature and limb, even from a want of "Tired Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep;" if, indeed, there were no other causes to produce it. And yet nature was not quite exhausted in him, but rather, in obedience to the stern mandate of his will, summoned his strength for a last effort.

His horse, although stretching every muscle at the goad of his bloody spur, could but creep with distended nostril and bursting eye against the steep and rocky-encumbered acclivity: and, impatient of the animal's tardy progress, Sir William sprang, with an imprecation, from his back, and pushed upward, sobbing, indeed, and drenched in perspiration at every step, yet with a constancy and a nerve scarce to be accounted for, unless we say that his heated brain gave him such a stimulus as often imparts incredible strength to the confirmed maniac. He gained a view of the old windmill-tower. Upon its top was hoisted a rude flag of sun-faded green, on which, in clumsy white letters, had been inscribed "Liberty or Death," and, had the breeze been brisk enough to float the banner to its full extent, all the words would have met the eye. But the summer-breeze, as if disgusted from its agency, had fled the summit of Vinegar Hill, leaving that baleful flag to droop over the scene beneath it, until within its heavy folds the word "Liberty" became hidden, and "Death" alone was visible.

His banner it might indeed well appear to be-drooping, in appropriate listlessness, as it exhibited the name of the fell destroyer above the havoc he had made.-For, just below the base of the tower, the rocks and the burnt grass were reddened, and lifeless bodies, frightfully gashed, lay here and there amongst them, some

fully to be seen, others partly concealed by the stunted furze and shrubs.

Sir William still toiled upward. In different places along the hill-side, and even at some distance beyond its foot, were promiscuous groups of men, women, and children, some reposing after fatigue, and others seated round blazing fires of wood and furze. The slaughtered carcasses of sheep and cows often lay in close neighbourhood with the mortal remains of their enemies; and the hungry and houseless Croppy hacked a piece from the plundered animal he had killed for his food, held it on his pikehead before the blaze, and when to his mind thus inartificially cooked, either stretched his rude spit, still holding the morsel on its point, to some member of his family, or voraciously devoured it himself. And even here, amongst these houseless and friendless peoplenone, we would add, of the ferocious garrison of the windmill prison, but rather some poor wanderers from a burnt cabin, recently come in-even amongst them, surrounded by sights of horror, and stifling their hunger in this almost savage manner, national characteristics were not worn down. The laugh was frequent, as the cook made some droll remark upon the novelty of his occupation, or the excellence of the fare; the words deriving half their import from his tone and manner as he perhaps said "Well! it's nate mate, considherin orange sheep;"-or-"By gonnies! orange is the Croppy's friend, an' who'll deny id;"-holding the broiled flesh high on his pike:-"Sure it's no other than a friend 'ud feed fat sheep for a body;-open your mouths an' shet your eyes, now boys an' girls-the biggest mouth 'ill have this undher the teeth, I'm thinkin':"-and then they gaped and laughed loud, as, with a grave face, the examiner went round to decide on the comparative width of each yawning cavern.

There were carousing groups too, sending illicit whiskey, or other more legal liquor, from hand to hand; and upon them the beverage did not fail of its enlivening effect. And leaders appeared, with green ribands, or perhaps a military sash around their persons, or epaulettes on their shoulders, torn, as well as the secondmentioned article, from officers they had slain, inspecting different bands of insurgents as they practised their pike exercise; now driving forward the weapon at a given object; now darting it over their shoulders as if to meet a foe from behind; and now adroitly grasping it at either end with both hands, and bringing into play the elastic staff, as, with great dexterity, they whirled it round their persons, to keep off an attack in front. And all the while arose loud vociferations, each directing the other, according as he arrived, or fancied he had arrived, at greater proficiency than his neighbour.

But Sir William's attention was at length riveted upon the particular throng who, variously occupied, surrounded the narrow

entrance to the old tower. The clamorous crowd, with furious action and accents, hustled together, and a first glance told that their present occupation brought into energy all the ferociousness of their nature.

Some of them, who were on horseback, waved their arms, and endeavoured to raise their voices over the din of those around, who, however, vociferated too ardently to listen to their words; and, as all looked on at the slaughter committed by a line of pikemen drawn up before the tower, whose weapons were but freed from one victim to be plunged into another, it was not merely a shout of triumph, but the more deadly yell of glutted vengeance, or malignity, which, drowning the cry of agony that preceded it, burst, with little intermission, from all.

Two sentinels, armed with muskets, guarded the low and narrow entrances to the temporary prison, and grimly did they scowl on the crowded captives pent up within its walls. Another man, gaunt and robust in stature, having a horseman's sword buckled awkwardly at his hip, a green ribbon tied round his foxy felt hat, the crimson sash of a slain militia officer knotted round his loins, two large pistols thrust into it, and a formidable pike in his hand, rushed, from time to time, into the tower, dragged forth some poor victim, put him to a short examination, and then, unless something were urged in favour of the destined sufferer, sufficient to snatch him from the frightful fate numbers had already met, he flung him to his executioners. And this man, so furious, so savage, and so remorseless, was Shawn-a-Gow.

Armed also with a musket, and stationed between the line of pikemen and the door of the tower, in order that he might be the first agent of vengeance, stood the ill-favoured scoundrel we have mentioned in a former chapter-the murderous Murtoch Kane, late a "stable-boy" at the inn of Enniscorthy. This fellow would take life for pastime; but still, as he levelled at his victim, proud of the privilege of anticipating his brother-executioners, his brow ever curled into the murderer's scowl.

The hasty interrogatories proposed to each cringing captive by Shawn-a-Gow, midway between the tower and the pikemen, had exclusive reference to the religious creed of the party; and the acknowledgment of Protestantism, deemed synonymous with Orangeism, at once proclaimed, or rather was assumed as proclaiming, a deadly enemy, meriting instant vengeance; yet in this, the rabble-insurgents of Vinegar Hill acted with a curious inconsistency. Many Protestants held command in the main force of which they called themselves adherents;-nay, the individual selected by unanimous choice as "Commander-in-Chief," was of the established religion of the State. But why pause to point out any departure from principle in the persons of such men as are before us? Were their deeds to be justly visited on the more courageous as well as