My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3): A Chronicle of Ireland, from the Convention to the UnionWingfield, Lewis
History
My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3): A Chronicle of Ireland, from the Convention to the Union
Wingfield, Lewis
Historical fiction; Ireland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
* * * * *
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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