The history of the Tithe War has been told many times, and there is no room for it here, but it possessed so much comedy and tragedy that some of its incidents may be recalled. When the peasantry tried passive resistance, their activities were aroused by the arrival of soldiers to take their goods and sell them by public auction. In one battle twelve peasants were killed and twenty wounded; in another there were heavy casualties on both sides; and there were other affrays with equally deadly results. A touch of humour was provided by the inhabitants of Doon, a Limerick town which, in the early thirties of the last century, contained a population of about 5,000 Roman Catholics and a single Protestant. In due course, the Protestant clergyman demanded tithes from the priest, which the latter promptly refused to pay. With the aid of the law, the priest's cow was seized, and elaborate preparations made for its sale by public auction. The authorities at Dublin Castle were consulted, and a long correspondence dealing with the cow ensued; there was much advising and consultation; the viceroy discussed it in secret and laughed at it during dinner; the Commander-in-Chief of the forces was asked for his help, and he signed an order for the attendance of a small army at the forthcoming auction. Meanwhile the cow, unmindful of its prominence and glory, browsed on contentedly until the time came when it was led into the field by its crown keeper and escorted by a force of police. On the field of auction, besides the police were a troop of the 12th Lancers, five companies {236} of the 92nd Highlanders, and two pieces of artillery. The auctioneer stood in the midst of an arsenal surrounded by the army. Bids for the historic cow were invited; threats and jokes were all he got from the peasantry, and the proceedings finally left the Government in possession of the cow, no one having the courage to buy it. This auction was one of many. Cows and pigs, escorted by several hundred soldiers, became part of the pageantry of the country; officers and men were recalled from leave of absence to take their part in tending cattle captured from rebellious villagers. No Government could maintain its dignity, and ridicule nullified the dearly bought victories in the field. The net result was that the Government collected L12,000 at a cost of L27,000 and hundreds of lives, and L48,000 still due for tithes. Lord Anglesey saw nothing of the Tithe War, but from Dublin Castle he superintended the operations against the peasantry. The Government regarded the objection to tithe-paying as one of O'Connell's devices for rousing the masses against England, and although the ministry was compelled to abolish the tithes, the victory of the peasants was more apparent than real, because the Tithe Commutation Act of 1838 placed the onus of collecting the dues on the landlord, who, of course, added the amount to the rent he levied on his tenants' holdings.