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Chapter XV


    The celebration of the battle of the Boyne was an important event in the annals of Bandon in the days of "auld lang syne."   What the 25th of December was in mid-winter, the first of July was in mid-summer.  The former was the great winter festival; the latter was the great summer festival.  The date of the battle itself was a great time-mark with the inhabitants.  For more than a century after people used to relate how that their fathers, or their grandfathers, or their great-grandfathers, were born, or were married, or died, so many years before or after the battle of the Boyne.  A man obtained the lease of his farm, or of his house, or his people "came over," so many years before or after it.
    The first of July was a grand holiday.  Months before the day broke on that memorable morning-before the sun showed a portion of his broad, bright red face above the shoulder of yon eastern hill, and peeped furtively into the grey valley below as if to see if there was any one awake or up before himself-thousands were eagerly looking forward to "the first."
    It came at last.  Old quarrels were speedily forgotten; old friendships were quickly revived.  Those between whom a coolness had existed now shook each other cordially by the hand.  A man one had never seen before would put a foaming tankard in his hand, and invite him to drink to the glorious William.  The buxom country lass, who blushed when, for the first time, he eyes met those of the stalwart young fellow who insisted on walking a part of the way home with her a year ago, was now all blushes and smiles, as he pressed her hand, or whispered in her ear.
    It was a glorious day.*  Heaven's huge azure vault was suffused with rich light.  The golden beams of the great luminary quivered and sparkled in the warm still air.  Its light was everywhere.  The stones and and pebbles which lay in the beds of brooks and rivers looked large and soft in the midst of the soft mellowish glare that surrounded them.  Splashes of bright light lay scattered on the moist ground, and on the damp green moss, that were to be found in dark recesses in the woods and groves; and luminous spots and patches of it-sprinkled, as if by invisible hands-dappled the lacquered surface of the ivy leaf, the holly, and the laurel.
    Early on that morning Bandon was astir.   The cannon on the walls were fired at intervals of a few minutes, and each successive "bang" swelled and roared along the valley, and echoed and re-echoed among the surrounding hills, announcing that the day had begun.  The bell of Christ Church sung it in silvery tones.  The bell at Ballymodan boomed it.  Simultaneously with this announcement, standards were hoisted.  A large orange flag flaunted from the belfry of old Kilbrogan; a similar one waved from the roof of Ballymodan.  A blue flag floated from a tall spar placed over the centre arch of the bridge.  Orange an blue, purple and violet, red and yellow-in fact, flags and ribbons of every colour, save green and white-streamed from lofty oaks planted in commanding situations.  One tree stood just outside the Water-gate, another stood a Kilbrogan-cross; there was one on the quay-now known as Cavendish-quay; there was one on the western extremity of the South Main Street, another at its eastern extremity; there was one on Shannon Street bridge, and another in the Irish-town.

                *  Tradition says, "the first" was never known to be wet or cloudy.

    People were soon in the streets.  Many of those who had arrived after a long journey the night before were busy watering and feeding their horses, so that they may have the day uninterruptedly to themselves.
    The townspeople were busy too.  Every door, every window, every sky-light, was being decorated by them with braches of oak; whilst their mothers, or their wives, or their sweethearts, stood by, twining tasteful garlands of marigold and sweet-william.
    The roads leading into the town swarmed with country-people.  There was not a village, or a hamlet-almost every house poured its tributary into the live stream that swept by.  Margery and Mabel, Sukey and Bess, in kirtles of blue or red stuff, and wearing  a bunch of roses and sweet-william in their bosoms, trouped on., accompanied by young men who wore sprays of oak and orange lilies in their hats.  Men and women-some of whom were advanced in years-were there on foot and on horseback; and many a comfortable-looking matron rode by, sitting on the big padded pillion affixed to her husband's saddle.  Scarce a door they passed that had not an oak branch and a cluster of orange lilies placed above it in honour of the day; and people too old to travel, or who were obliged to stay at home to mind the house, were out on the wayside, huzzaing to every group that went by, or making the air resound with the enlivening strains of "The Boyne Water."
    About eleven o'clock the streets were lined with crowds of pedestrians.  Precisely at that hour the gates at the market-house at Ballymodan side were flung open, and a corpse of drums and fifes passed out, playing loyal tunes.  They were followed by a long line of men wearing sashes and shoulder-knots of the favourite colours, marching four deep.
    After traversing the South Main Street, Castle Street, and the Irish-town, they arrived at Ballymodan Church, by Bridewell Street and Church Street.  Here several entered and heard divine service; but by far the greater number of them being Presbyterians, they marched to their own meeting-house.
    At the same time another large body, also headed by drums and fifes, marched from he market-house at North-gate, out to the end of Sugar Lane, across the fields to Barrett's Hill, and thence down through the North Main Street, to the bottom of Water-gate; and returning the same way again, they halted at Kilbrogan Church gate, detaching the Presbyterians, who formed no inconsiderable portion of their rank and file.
  At one o'clock, all the religious services being over, they all met at the bridge.  Here they were divided into two hostile camps.  Those who lost the toss, being for King James, possessed themselves of the bank of the river on the Ballymodan side, extending from the bridge to the piece of ground now occupied by the gas-works.  Whilst William's party-the party who won the toss-held the Water-gate side, beginning also at the bridge, and extending down to where the Messrs. Cornwall's brewery now stands.
    After reviewing, shouting, speeching, and huzzaing, "Billy Boyne" would be led forth arrayed in all his battle-field accoutrements.  He would have his Boyne saddle-cloth on, his Boyne holsters and silver-mounted pistols, and al the other trappings that rendered him so attractive the evening corporal Tom patted him on the back and vowed he should accompany him to the sunny South.
    Being led along the ranks, "Billy" used evidently feel vain of his position.  He used to curvet, he used to prance, and look as proudly at this old Boyne regiments as if he was born every inch a soldier.  Finally he was brought in front of the stand of colours, where he was mounted by "Schomberg"-one of the Boyne volunteers usually doing duty for the old marshal on these occasions-and "Schomberg" having addressed his followers in suitable terms, used to conclude by pointing to "their persecutors" on the opposite bank, and then charge resolutely into the river, followed by all his forces.  When about half way across, bang would go a shot from one of the persecutors, and slap-bang would go "Schomberg" into the water.  At this the Williamites would become desperate.  They would plunge through the stream, foaming with rage, and should they lay hands on "their persecutors" at this moment, they would probably discover that playing the Jacobite even in joke, with the Bandonians for opponents, was an amusement not always safe to indulge in.  The admirers of brass money and wooden shoes knew this well, and by the time "Schomberg's" comrades reached the shore, they had become invisable.
    When the great attraction of the programme was over, the people dispersed for dinner.  Provident house-wives from the country sought out retired spots; and opening their provisions baskets, helped those whom they had invited to join them to piles of bread and beef, and then allayed their thirst with foaming jugs of cider and home-brewed ale.  Others who had friends in the town, staid with them; or they crowded the inns and alehouses, and washed down a hearty meal with rum and beer.
    As time wore on the thoroughfares began to fill again.  Music and singing were heard in every direction.  Now it was the joyous tones of the hautboy and fiddle invited the dancers to a saraband or a minuet; then a sweet voice sang a roudelay to the thrumming notes of the spinnet, and then a burst of sounds, from dozens of hoarse throats, roared:-
           "July the first, in a mourning clear, one thousand six hundred and ninety,
            King William did,"  &c.
    The fireworks were exhibited about nine in the evening, and proved a great source of amusement to every one; after which the cannon on the town walls announced that the day was ended.
    Nearly every one in this locality-during the close of the seventeenth century, the whole of the eighteenth, and the first quarter of the one we live in-heartily joined in celebrating the Boyne anniversary.  Indeed, such was the anxiety of a gentleman-who is still affectionately remembered by some of our old citizens-that his unaltered devotion to the principles associated with the memory of King William should be exhibited, and that, whilst lying in his last resting-place, his very remains should as it were display those loyal emblems he so often paraded whilst alive, that on his dying bed he gave peremptory orders to his next of kin to pay the sum of ten pounds yearly to an individual whom he named, provided he decorated his grave every 1st of July with orange lilies.
    We should have stated that "Schomberg's" horse was not forgotten.  When the great toast that was given at every dinner-table, and was drank over and over again, was first proposed, a full bumper of the best October was poured into the horse's bucket, which he used to drink off with all the gusto of a real true-blue.  Poor "Billy" died about the year 1708, and was publicly buried in the churchyard of Ballymodan; and 'tis said that many a wet eye became wetter, and many a sad heart sadder still, as the stones and clay covered for ever the inanimate form of the once gay and joyous old Boyne campaigner, "Billy Boyne."-

                    *  For many years afterwards "Billy Boyne" was a favourite name for a pet horse; and even now its corruption -"Billy Boy"-is not altogether forgotten.

    The custom of celebrating the Boyne anniversary by a sham fight continued until the year 1809; and the last "Schomberg" we have any account of was the late Mr. William Banfield, of Shinagh.  The planting of oak-trees, with paintings of William crossing the Boyne, continued until the passing of the Party Processions Act; whilst the practice of decorating the churches with flags and streamers remained until 1858.  And the only traces we have now of these by-gone celebrations are the few harmless shots that are fired on the eve of the old anniversary.
    The battle of the Boyne, one of the most important in its results that has ever been fought in this country, was celebrated in a song which bears evident traces of having been written by an eye-witness indeed, it is thought to have been written by one of the famous Enniskelleners who was present-and it still retains much of its former popularity.



July the first, in a morning clear, one thousand six hundred and ninety,
King William did his men prepare-of thousands he had thirty-
To fight King James and all his host, encamped near the Boyne water;
He little feared, though two to one, their multitudes to scatter.     

King William called his officers, saying 'Gentlemen mind your station,
And let your valour here be shown before the Irish nation.
My brazen walls let no man break; our subtle foes we'll scatter;
See that you show good English play, this day at the Boyne water,

His officers they bowed full low, in token of subjection.
Said they 'My liege, you need not fear, we'll follow your direction.'
He wheeled his horse; the hautboys played; drums they did beat and rattle;
And 'Lilli burlero' was the tune we played going down to battle.

Both foot and horse we marched on, intending them to batter,
Bit brave Duke Schomberg he was shot, as he crossed over the water;
And when King William he perceived that brave Duke Schomberg failed,
He reigned his horse with a heavy, heavy heart, and the Enniskillen me he called.

What will you do for me, brave boys; see yonder's men retreating!
Our enemies encouraged are, and our English drums are beating;
I'll go before, and lead you on.  Boys, use your hands full ninble;
With the help of God we'll beat them down, and make their hearts to tremble.

The Enniskillen men, they did not know it was their King who spoke to them,
But when informed of their mistake, they bowed full low unto him.
'We'll go before; stay you behind, and do not cross the water;
Old Britain's lamp shall clearly shine, and our enemies we'll scatter.

We formed our body at the ford, and down the brae did swatter;
And each man grasped his fellow close as we passed though the water.
But-oh, my stars! had you been there, when we their trench came under:
Sulpher and smoke darkened the air, and the elements did thunder.

King William he did first advance where bullets sharp did rattle.
The Enniskillen men bore noble hands, and soon renewed the battle.
Then lionlike we made them roar; like chaff we did them scatter.
King William pressed his way through blood that day at the Boyne water.

My Lord Galmoyle within a crack of our fore-front advanced.
Both great and gay, in rich array, like prince's sons they pranced.
In a full body they came down, with broadsword and caliver,
With whip and sword, most Jehu-like, as the devil had been their driver.

Within ten yards of our fore-front, before a shot we fired.
But a sudden snuff they got that day; they little it desired;
For men and horse fell to the ground, and some hung on their saddles,
And many turned up their forked end-as well we call 'coup-de-ladles.'

Prince Eugene's regiment was the next, on our right-hand advance,
Into a field of standing wheat, where Irish horses pranced;
But the brandy ran so in their heads, their senses soon did scatter.
They little thought to leave their bones that day on the Boyne water.

We turned about our foe to flank, intending them to batter;
But suddenly they did us spy, and fast began to scatter.
The Irish they ran first away, the French they soon did follow,
And he that got fastest away, was, aye! the happiest fellow.

'Oh see! Oh see! cried Dermot Roe. Oh, help, dear Lady Mary!
By my fet, we're all dead men this day, if we do longer tarry!'
They threw away both fife and drum, and firelock from their shoulder.
King William's men pushed them hard, to smell the English powder.

I never saw. nor never knew, men that for blood so gaped;
But yet I'm sure that from three to ten of them that day escaped.
We formed the French* on our left wing, the enemy to batter;
And glorious was our victory that day on the Boyne water.

Both man and horse lay on the ground, and many there were bleeding.
I saw no sickles there that day, and yet there was lots of shearing.
But still the faster we pursued, the more we did them scatter.
Our hearts were to each other bound that day at the Boyne water.

Had Enniskillen men got leave that day, when they their foes defeated.
For to pursue the enemy that from the field retreated,
Ten thousand broguineers and more would not have been much cumber,
Nor James's men have rose again, by the third part of their number.

Now praise God, all true Protestants, and heaven's great Creator,
For the deliverance that He sent, our enemies to scatter.
The church's foes shall pine away, like churlish-hearted Nabal;
For our deliverer came that day like the great Zorobabel.

Both France and Spain they did combine, the Pope and Father Peter;
They thought to steep a rod in brine, Great Britain to whip completer;
But Providence to us was kind-sent William to cross the water;
Who broke the rod and their black design, and their bones lie at the Boyne water.

                *  The Hugenots.
  The Rev. Dr. Hume, to whom we are indebted for this copy of "July the First," thinks verse nineteen was subsequently added by some smart member of an Orange lodge.

    The song best known in the South, and which we now give, first appeared in 1814, and from that time up to the present it has to a considerable extent supplanted the former, which was the original song, and which was known in the North ever since the great event which it purports to commemorate.  It is said that the circulation of the latter is in a great measure due to the large woodcut in the centre of the broad sheet, along the margin of which it was printed.

July the first, in Oldbridge town, there was grievous battle,
Where many a man lay on the ground, by cannons that did rattle.
King James he pitched his tents between the lines for to retire, 
But King William threw his bombshells in, and set them all on fire.

Thereat enraged, they vowed revenge upon King William's forces, 
And oft did vehemently cry, that they would stop their courses. 
A bullet from the Irish came, which grazed King William's arm- 
They thought his Majesty was slain, but it did him little harm.

Duke Schomberg then, in friendly care, his King would often caution, 
To shun the spot where bullets hot retained their rapid motion; 
But William said he don't deserve the name of Faith's Defender.
Who would not venture life and limb to make a foe surrender.

When we the Boyne began to cross, the Irish they descended; 
But few of our brave men were lost, so nobly we defended. 
The horse they were the first crossed o'er, the foot soon followed after; 
But brave Duke Schomberg was no more, by crossing o'er the water.

When gallant Schomberg he was slain, King William he accosted 
His warlike men for to march on, and he wou'd be the foremost. 
'Brave men' said he, 'be not dismayed, at the loss of one commander, 
For God will be our King to-day, and I'll be general under.

Then bravely we the Boyne did cross, to give the enemy battle; 
Our cannon, to our foe's great cost, like thundering claps did rattle. 
In majestic style our King rode o'er, his men soon followed after, 
And 'twas soon we put our foes to rout, the day we crossed the water.

The Protestants of Drogheda have reason to be thankful, 
That they were not to bondage brought, they being but a handful. 
First to the Tholsel they were brought, and them to Millmount after;
But brave King William set then free by venturing over the water.

The cunning French near to Duleek had taken up their quarters,
And fenced themselves on every side, just waiting for new orders; 
But in the dead time of the night they set their tents on fire, 
And long before the morning's light to Dublin did retire.

Then said King William to his men, after the French departed, 
'I'm glad,' said he, 'that non of ye seem to be faint-hearted; 
So sheath your swords and rest awhile, in time we'll follow after.' 
These words he uttered with a smile the day we crossed the water.

Come let us all, with heart and voice, applaud our lives' defender, 
Who at the Boyne his valour showed, and made his foe surrender. 
To God above the praise we'll give, both now and ever after, 
And bless the glorious memory of King William that crossed the water.*

                *  Some of the evils that fell on old Ireland by the successes of William are still preserved in a little poem, written by one Guliclimus O'Callaghan (a Kanturk schoolmaster), beginning with:-
                        Bad luck to ould bandy-legged Schomberg;
                            King William, and Mary, also!
                        Oh! 'tis they that did water ould Ireland
                            With bloodshed, an' murther, an' woe!

    "The Boyne Water," "July the First," and a few others breathing the same spirit and full of the same aspirations, were almost the only tunes known here for a very long period-in fact down to the times we live in. 
    A few years ago, when a portion of her Majesty's-regiment was quartered in Fermoy, a company, consisting of a drummer and fifer and the usual number of rank and file, were sent to a little country town in Tipperary.  The captain who commanded was a French Canadian, and a Roman Catholic; and he not only regularly attended his place of worship whilst stationed there, but he was also on terms of friendly and social intercourse with the clergymen of his persuasion, not only where he was quartered, but in the neighbourhood.
    A little chapel, recently built in a hamlet a few miles distant, was about being formally opened for divine service; and the priest, knowing Captain G---, asked him for the loan of his musical staff for the occasion, in the hope, that when it became known that a military band was to take a part in the grand ceremonial of the consecration, numbers would come who would otherwise stop away. 
    The band-such as it was-was given , and welcome.  Accordingly, on the appointed day, the drummer and fifer (two young Bandonians, who had not been very long in the service) were present, and also several of their comrades.  There was no programme given to them; and the only order they received was that at a given signal they should begin to play.
    When all was ready, and when the proceedings reached that point where the music was to be introduced, the priest gave the signal, and the drum and fife commenced.
    The reader will naturally expect to hear that the sacred music of Mozart, or of Handel, or of some other great composer, was performed, or at least attempted-although the instruments were the profane ones we have mentioned; or even on of those sweet, plaintive melodies with which the surrounding hills and valleys were not unfamiliar.  No! they did no such thing.  They struck up the boisterous and defiant strains of "The Protestant Boys!"  As if this was not enough to stretch the forbearance of the large assembly present to the very last thread, they were then favoured with "Rise, sons of William, rise!" and they concluded-what they intended as the first part of the day's musical entertainment-with "Croppies, lie down!"
    The priest was almost breathless with timidity and rage-and no wonder.  He trembled least his indignant people should rush on the heretical instrumentalists, and annihilate them.  He was greatly incensed to think that the first hymn that should ascend before the altar, and find a responsive echo along that roof-a roof  that was raised by the pence and piety of the Irish Roman Catholics-should be "The Protestant Boys!"  How did he know but that "Rise, sons of William, rise!" was invitation to the Protestants wolves to come in and devour his Catholic sheep?  "Croppies, lie down!" was, if possible, worse.  It may do very well for the black North, or for and Orange lodge; but in Catholic Ireland, for two miscreants in the Sassenach army to stand up, and in their very midst, and in the midst of everything they looked upon as sacred, to tell them to "lie down!" far exceeded anything he had ever heard of for audacity, impudence, and irreverence.  If Captain G--- was a Protestant, he would not half mind; but for a Catholic captain to ----------!
    A grave complaint was made to head-quarters, and the two Bandonians were placed under arrest, and brought before a court-martial.  In their defence, they stated that the music being left to themselves they played those tunes that they could play best.  Perhaps they thought, too, that as they were good enough for the people of Bandon, of course they ought to be good enough for them.
    The affair eventually blew over, and the drummer and fifer received strict injunctions never-under any circumstances-to play any of those obnoxious tunes again.
    The orthodox colours, as well as the orthodox music, were greatly in vogue in Bandon, and the old folk hardly knew any others.  Even many of those whose business it was to be familiar with every pigment in general use showed a lamentable ignorance in this respect.
    A sign-board swung over the door of an ale-house, on which was a painting representing an orange cow giving blue milk; another sign-board had a yellow salmon on it, with violent-coloured fins and tail; and over a little inn in one of our suburbs was another, with a tableau emblazoned upon it of a gentleman on horse-back, drinking a pint of ale at the door of "mine host."  The gentleman, who was dressed in blue, sat on an orange horse, and drank "the glorious, pious, and immortal memory,"*  in red ale, out of a purple pint.  Indeed, some of our exploits of William the Third, that it would take very little argument-especially when their memories are quickened by something more exhilarating than tea and coffee-to persuade them that they were personally acquainted with him of the glorious memory, and were eye-witnesses, if not participators, in the great struggle that was decided on the memorable first of July.
    We are acquainted with an old townsman who avers that he not only saw William, but was talking to him; and, moreover, that he himself performed an important service for the Protestant cause on that eventful day. 
    After Schomberg was killed, says he, the Irish began to gain ground.  King William perceived this, and saw there was not a moment to be lost.  "Where's Ned Lisson?" cried the King, standing up in his stirrups and looking anxiously about him.  "Here, your Majesty." answered Ned, emerging from a cloud of smoke; and passing on to where his royal master was, he stood and presented arms with as much composure as if he was at after-breakfast parade.  "Ned," said his Majesty, "tell the Enniskeilleners to cut away the Irish centre at once."  Away Ned ran, glad to be bearer of such gratifying directions-often being obliged to hop and skip, least he should trample on the body or limbs of many a poor fellow whose fast glazing eye told he would soon be a stranger to the strifes and troubles of this world; and running up to the gallant horsemen from Enniskillen, gave the King's command to cut away the Irish centre; "and I could'nt help saying." says the old Boyner, "and their two wings also." adding, by way of palliation for meddling with his instructions, "sure they might as well finish them all when they went about it."  Well, away they went straight at them, and before you could whistle the first line of "July the First!" they lay stretched upon the grass by the dozen.  "Yerra, ar'nt them Enniskilleners the devil entirely!" said the temporary aide-de-camp, rushing up to where the great deliverer stood surveying their bloody work.  "Yes, Ned," said King William, with an applauding look, "one would think them fellows were Bandonians!"

                *  Dr. Peter Browne-appointed Bishop of Cork in 1709-wrote a pamphlet against the custom of drinking "the glorious memory."  He said it was impious.

    Coins struck in William's reign are prized here as mementoes of him and of the eventful times in which he lived.  His watch-he presented to a brave soldier on the battle-field at the Boyne-has descended to its present owner, who resides in this county, as a family heirloom.  And a suit of clothes worn by the great Protestant King when a boy is carefully preserved in a glass-case, and forms a  prominent feature among the attractions of a valuable collection of curiosities and works of art in the possession of a lady who lately resided in this neighbourhood.
    The success of King William entailed ill-success on King James.  What brought life to the hopes of one price carried death to those of the other.  But though the important victory gained by William resulted in the surrender of Drogheada and the evacuation of Dublin, yet-excepting what he had marched through from his landing, and the district held for him buy the Enniskilleners-all the rest of Ireland was as hostile to hum as ever.
    The royal banner of the Stuarts still floated from the battlements of Cork.  A similar one streamed over the fort and barracks at Kinsale; over Limerick, over Galway, and over dozens of other garrisons in the south and west.
    Under these circumstances, one would have supposed the Bandonians-who had suffered so much and so often, and that within a short period-would have remained quiet; more especially as. within a few miles of where they stood, Sir Edward Scott commanded a body of foot-twelve hundred strong-in James's interest.  Colonel O'Driscoll's regiment, too,-composed of men raised in the west county, and with whose fathers and forefathers the Bandon people had been striving for the ascendancy for generations-was equally near.  And Cork-the city from which marched the troops which surrounded their walls in thousands not eighteen months before-was as devoted and vehement in the same cause as heretofore.
    Notwithstanding that everything was against them, and that they had no friends to give them even the poor encouragement of their sympathy in all that portion of the kingdom extending from the southern limits of Dublin to Cape Clear, and from Wexford to Kilkee, yet on the 16th  of July-months before the mortars of Marlborough threw bombshells from Cat-fork into Cork, or the battery at the Red Abbey tore a breach in its wall-they assembled themselves together; and stimulated by that undeviating attachment to the Protestant cause, which defeat could not overturn or bloodshed extinguish, they courageously came forward, and again rebelled against the sovereignity of King James. And, as if already conquerors. they triumphantly decreed:-
            "That the new charter brought and produced by Teige McCarthy, under the government and under the broad seal of this kingdom, had become null and void; and that the old charter be revived and stand in the former house, and elected and appointed Mr. John Nash to be provost of the borough for the year to come; he first taking the the usual oaths, and the oath of loyalty to our gracious sovereigns, William and Mary, King and Queen of England," &c.
    This defiant edict was dated July 16th, 1690, and was signed by Edward Turner, Christopher Grinway, Isaac Browne, and Daniel Beamish.
    It will be seen, from the date just mentioned, that the corporation of James lasted within a few days of two years and four months.
    Throughout the whole of their career-save in the one instance of directing that the sum of 6s. 8d. should be levied off every one objecting to become free of the corporation, and thereby refusing to swear allegiance to James the Second-they acted with a leniency that could not reasonably be expected from them.  Indeed, they would seem to have carried conciliation almost to the verge of partizanship with their enemies, in their efforts to humour the prejudices of the stubborn people over whom they were placed; and so far did they strain points in this particular, that in the most sensitive of all our prejudices-our religious feelings-it was those of their opponents they sought to gratify, and not their own.
    Throughout the entire of our rule here, there is no reference to any Roman Catholic clergyman having been admitted to reside within the walls until the 24th of June-a few days prior to the eventful 1st of July-when that permission was for the first time bestowed on Father Michael Crowly; but not until he produced an order form King James-so that even this small concession to a minister of their own faith was not granted by them either as a right or a favour, but solely because the aforesaid Father Crowly presented a mandate from his gracious Majesty in that behalf.  This was their last recorded act.
    The following is a complete list of the free-burgesses in 1689, authenticated by the signature of the provost for that year:-

Danl. McCarthy-Reagh, Andrew Callaghan, Charles McCarthy,
Charles McCarthy, John Walshe, Francis Garvan,
Edward Collyer, Daniel Crowe, Denis Leary,
Thomas Knight, Denis Riordan, Cornelius Leary,
Cornelius Conner, Arthur Keefe, Kadogh Leary,
Murtogh Downy, William Hore, James Purcell,
Edmond Barret, Thomas Curtin, Dermod Keohane.
                 Robert Casey, provost.

    Upon the 2nd of October Marlborough arrived in Kinsale, and the very next day attacked the old fort; which he valiantly assaulted, and took by storm-killing the governor (Colonel O'Driscoll) and two hundred of his men; and others, amounting to two hundred and fifty, he took prisoners.
    Charles-fort was then summoned, but Sir Edward Scott (the governor) properly replied that it would be time enough a month hence to talk of surrendering.  Marlborough immediately set to work at the trenches, and constructed batteries.  After a fortnight's cannonading, the Danes, who were posted on the east side, breached the walls; and the English, who were on the northern side, had previously possessed themselves of the counterscarp; then a mine was sprung, and the enemies works seriously damaged.  When everything was ready for the assault, Scott surrendered; the garrison, which consisted of twelve hundred men, being permitted to march to Limerick with all their arms and baggage, but leaving their stores behind-amongst which were one thousand barrels of wheat. one thousand barrels of beef, forty tuns of claret, and large quantities of sack, brandy, and strong beer.
    Having made his brother (Brigadier Churchill) governor of the fort, he placed his regiment in winter quarters in Bandon, Kinsale, and Cork, and he returned with the fleet to Portsmouth.
    Previous to setting sail, he had a levee in Cork, where numbers of William's loyal subjects went to pay their regards; amongst who was Mr. Gosnell of Kilpatrick, who waited on him at the head of a cavalcade composed of his wife and twenty-one children.  But Gosnell paid dearly for his loyalty; as the rapparees took advantage of his absence, and having entered his house, they burnt it to the ground; and so effectually was this performed, that, when the owner returned, all he was able to discover among and debris was the left-hand of a woman and two pewter plates.
    At this time the large district to the west of Bandon was almost entirely in the hands of the rebels.  These were for the most part composed of trained men who had served under King James, and were led by officers who lacked none of the qualities of brave soldiers.  They marched through the country, headed by their pipers; and they caused great terror and alarm amongst the outlaying colonists.  So numerous were they, and such confidence had they in themselves, that they ventured to attack villages, and even towns.
    Five hundred men, belonging to O'Driscoll's regiment-a division of which was so roughly handled by Marlborough at Kinsale-under the command of young Colonel O'Driscoll, attempted to burn Castle-Townsend; but they were repulsed by Townsend and his brave little garrison of thirty-five men with such success, that the O'Driscolls neat a hasty retreat, leaving twelve of their dead behind.  Nevertheless, they again renewed the attack, but with results still more disastrous.  This time they fled, leaving O'Driscoll (their young colonel), Captain Teige Donovan, Captain Croneen, Captain MacRonaine, and thirty rank and file dead upon the streets, and many wounded.  MacRonaine behaved well.  It was mainly owing to him that the Irish were brought up to face the little garrison; but the stuff of which his men were made of may be inferred from the fact that several of them advanced to the attack with bundles of straw tied around their bodies to protect them from the hostile bullets.
    Towards the close of the year, MacFineen, having broken out of Cork goal, collected about four hundred men, and marched to Enniskeane.  Finding this place guarded, he proceeded to Castletown, in which was a little garrison of thirty dragoons, under the command of a lieutenant.  These fought stubbornly and successfully for a long time; but their ammunition being all gone, and five of their number killed, they surrendered on quarter.  Although the lieutenant had his life promised to him, nevertheless he was set upon by these wretches, and murdered in cold blood.

    1691- Owing to the greatly disturbed state of the country, Mr. Justice Cox-who had been appointed governor to the country and city of Cork the month preceding-issued a proclamation, forbidding all Papists of this county to be out of their dwellings from nine at night till five in the morning; er to be found two miles from their places of abode, except in a highway to a market-town, and on market-days; or to conceal arms and ammunition, on pain of being treated as rebels.  That hue and cry should be made after murderers and robbers.  That all persons should on their allegiance enlist themselves into the militia.  That none should traffic, correspond with, or send provisions to the enemy; or shelter or entertain Tories, rapparees, &c.  That no protected person should desert his habitation, or go to the enemy, or otherwise absent himself above three days, on pain or imprisonment or his wife and family, and the demolishing of his house.  And, lastly, it pronounced impartial justice without distinction of nation.
    Limerick capitulated.  On the 3rd of October the treaty was signed.  It contained no less than forty-two provisions, the most important of which was permission to James's adherents to leave the kingdom.  They were also allowed to take with them all their chattels, &c.  Similar permissions were granted to other garrisons, and to every one who wished to leave Ireland.
    As soon as the peace was signed, four thousand five hundred foot marched into Cork under the command of Sarsfield; and after remaining there about a month,* they sailed for France, and landed at Brest on the 3rd of December.
   D'Usson and Tesse also arrived at Brest about the same time, with four thousand seven hundred and thirty-six-exclusive of officers-from the Shannon direct, in transports belonging to the squadron under M.de Chteau REnaud.  Shortly afterwards Major-General Wachop left with about three thousand more, in English ships; and these were followed by two companies of King James's body-guard.
    According to the report of the commissioners, all the Irish troops-including officers-that followed James to France amounted to nineteen thousand and fifty-nine; but great as this force may seem, it was only the nucleus of a greater.  The Irish gentry who had eluded the vigiliance of Cromwell. or had been restored or permitted to enjoy their estates by Ormond, were now hopelessly ruined by the forfeitures under William-some idea of the extent of which may be surmised from the fact that in our county alone they amounted to two hundred and forty-four thousand acres- and they left Ireland in crowds, taking their dependents and many of their former tenantry with them.  Indeed so great was the number of these voluntary exiles that landed in France the next half century, that it is computed-upon calculation made at the French war-office-that from the landing of James's army, up to and including the battle of Fontenoy in 1745, upwards of four hundred and fifty thousand Irishmen laid down their lives in the service of France.

                *  Whilst staying at Cork awaiting transports great numbers of them deserted, in consequence of accounts which had reached them of the ill-usage which had been received by those who had preceded them.  Such was the effect of the bad news, that three whole regiments refused point blank to go on bo0ard.  The embarkation itself was a most distressing spectacle.  Numbers of the wives and children of the soldiers, who had accompanied them to Cork for the purpose sailing with them, were not even allowed to go near the ship's side to bid them good-bye; and when several of the poor creatures caught hold of the boats, imploring to be carried to their husbands, they were roughly thrust aside.  Some who followed the boars into deep water held on for awhile, but, their hold gradually relaxing, they let go and were drowned; and others, who continued their grip, had their fingers chopped off.
                  The entire confiscations in Ireland amounted to near 1,700,000 acres.  Two hundred and ninety-seven houses in Dublin, thirty-one mills, twenty-eight patents, for fairs and markets, seventy-two rectorships, with their tithes and rents, six ferries, and a great number of fisheries.  Also vast numbers of sheep and cattle, which were only valued at 135,552; but they were worth much more, as in this calculation a horse was set down at only twenty shillings, a sheep at half-a-crown, and other animals proportionally low.


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