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
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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