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“AV IRINIL MOTHER'S. REVENGE.
BY CHRISTINE FABER.
(For Redpath’s Ilutrated Weekly.)
‘ANY years ago, when battles were fought
by the Irish on {hele own soil, a nd that.
historian’s
One of these ‘incidents begun with the mar-
riage of a lovely young Irish girl to one of
her own countrymen, who had concealed
from her that he had been in the English army
fighting against the Irish, and that he was
awaited no inferior position. He was aware
of her noble enthusiasm in the cause of her
country—an enthusiasm derived from her
father, who carried his to so great degree
that on his deathbed he made his daughter
ience, he would ¢ surse her from his grave.
High-souled, sensitive, and in some degree
superstitious, the effect upon her when she
discovered the deceit of her husband, was
most melancholy. She drooped at ones like
d flower, but he was too
bition, and too flush with the success whieh
seemed in every instance ne walt upon his
own individual arm in to give much
heed to the drooping young ‘Creature further
than to think that, when the stirring fighting
times were over, she would regain her color
and her spirits. He loved her so devotedly,
that, w unless upon utterly impracticable occa-
sions, he brought her with him everywhere,
and so it happened that just before the attack
of the Irish upon Carlow, her baby was born
in the radely-constracted English barrack of
the tow
Her mother r—a woman of unusual stature,
with beetling brows and fierce eyes,—an
prother—a mere stripling, with long curls of
fair hair upon his shoulders,—were with her,
having endured many hardships to reach her.
They had not been summoned, the young
the fire of a dozen cannon, and the young
wife hesitating | to break her mother’s heart as
een broken. But her very si-
id
picions, and at length,
ing child, this fair-haired, girlish-looking boy,
she left ber home in a distant part of Ireland,
and 81
ffs young mother a raving maniac. She did
not curse the father, nor meet him even with
the bitter repronches he expected when he saw
her;'but she met him witha stony silence,
and a savage iook that, man and soldier as he
was, made him quail ; and when he attempted
to come to the bedside of his wife, she sternly,
but emily repulsed
‘e had no time to decide le on what. course to
pursue, for that very night the Irish made
their memorable attack upon Carlow; that at-
tack which might have resulted so gloriously
put for the blundering execution of some o:
the leaders. ‘he little, devoted band of. pa-
triots which effected the first entrance to the
town, were almost immediately destroyed,
and the others who fearlessly foilowed were
met by a steady fire from the garrison,
Before the dawn all the horrors of war
were in the town. The brave handful of de-
yoted Irish, who sought by prowess to supply
the deficiency of numbers, were cruelly cut
down. Overpowered, they attempted to re-
treat, and took refuge in the houses, but the
Jatter were fired by the blood-thirsty soldiers,
and the poor refagees were roasted in their
burning pris
The Bopnized ‘shrieks of the sufferers some-
times Prnetrated to the room where lay the
dying wife, aud she screamed in unison, and
then murmu
ies, a battle—a battle of true and traitor
hear!
Ww) on the conflagration was at its height,
shining brightly through the windows of the
room, she died; so quietly that her weeping
mother and brother could not tell the precise
moment of dissolution.
On the termination of the unequal affray,
ma
hastily improvised shroud
ti ner OF watcher er. Her mother,
whither, nor could the frantic search
stituted discover the slightest trace of them.
Stern in mien and look before, he now be-
came so fierce in apponrance and sosavage in
x his charge
shrank from contact with ae He led the
chil
oners himself f if th
unhappy captives new Baght of the fugitives,
REDPATH’S ILLUSTRATED WEEKLY.
they maintained a silence which neither bribe
or threat could breal
There was struggle after struggle of patri-
otic prowess against superior numbers, iron
power, and vindictive cruelty, until even Eng-
land might have felt that her measure of tiger-
like rapacity was full. The undaunted hearts
who had staked hopes and life in Ireland’s
cause, fea defeated, but not despairing, to
untains, and encamped themselves
amid the wild, intricate passes of those
‘mighty hills.” But the government troops
di
concerted plan of attack was formed by the
English commanders, and there was fought
that battle in which ‘even prejudiced histo-
rians are compelled © award a tribute to the
bravery of the try, for the latter,
uncovered, stood | tally ‘exposed to the tremen-
dous fire which poured upon them from crery
side, Shells and grape in sweeping volleys
decimated their ranks, and felled the best and
most loved of their leaders ; but still the Trish
held their ground. Women, imbued with the
brave spirit of their husbands and brothers,
mingled with the- combatants, oe ot then
their patriotic cries, and m: of them
killed by the bursting of a shell, dropped by
some loved one’s side.
There was one woman in the affray, a more
the English troops saw her, and fought des-
perately to reach her; once, he was so near,
haying cut his way through opposing ranks,
that she laughed almost in his face, and
‘*You fight well, but my revenge
.” And darting throngh the ‘tisordoed
colnmas she disappeared from
lood coursed like fire through his
veins, and he fought with even more desper-
ate ener; low from a blunderbuss This.
abled his left ee heedless of the pain he
dealt vigorous strokes with his right arm} the
blood streamed from a wound in cheek ;
he would not pause to wipe the gor
‘The few pieces of half-disabled cavnon pos-
sessed by the Irish had become nearly use-
less; they were also deficient in powder, and
rrent of fire, which burst
rough a line
=
8
of cavalry, wud
numbers of their brave companions dead upon
the field. At this juncture the wounded Gen-
eral, preparing to join in the pursuit, insti-
ted by his compaiions-in- -arms, was startled
ty a cry that rang from the summit of the hill
upon which the Irish had been encamped—a
cry so loud that it rang above the war clamor,
prs so wild, that it seomed to curdle the very
very man in that column, awaiting the
General’s orders, also looked up. Through
the dense smoke, just dispersing, they saw,
ihough mistily at first, a woman’s form, and
in
&
g
os
$
g
B
re
3
tio
She ‘held what seemed to bea child in her
arms—held it over the precipice, aud with
another cry, se - vi hurling
“* After the frish
Soronmed the Goneral, his eyes bloodshot
with a
ve Atter or thi he Trish, nor dare to give them
quarter.” That the merciless mandate was
too strictly executed, Jet the descrated homes
were bayonetted on
the prisoners who were put to
death without even the form of a trial.
‘The General, who had joined so fiercely in
the pursuit after that memorable battle, was
obliged to resign his command, and consent
be carried back to his quarters. His
wounds, though not fatal, were sufliciently
painful and weakening, to confine
hospital care for weeks—weeks that he raved
of his child being thrown from the eminence,
that he called for his dead wife, and that he
cursed her m
When he recovered, he resumed his old
command, and he joine: a the contests with
a vindictiveness which
human of his soldiers.
A decade of years pred, during which th
“reign of terror” oor Ireland began,
Daily executions took ‘pluce, and hundreds of
the leading patriots were seized secretly and
suddenly, and ‘Visited with al
of crael government. Sti it,
a
s
s
sought, for foo well was it known that none
would be g'
One day aad of his men captured a lad
whom they deemed to bea spy. He seemed
the merest lad from his slender form and
delicate girlish face, though he answered
twenty-five, when asked his age. But when
the motive which. had
rope and short shrift,” the award of spies in
were accorded to the youth—he
refused to give his name—and the prepara-
tions for his death were made amid ribald jest
and song. But, as they were conducting him
to the gibbet constructed in the barrack yard,
palled the more |
there was a commotion among a knot of men
stationed at the gates which opened up on the
highway, and in other moment a girl,
dashing past those “to would have opposed
her, threw herself on the breast of the
bound prisoner, exclaiming :
“Oh, Florence! I saw them take you, but
I wouldn't be let come to you, 80 T ran away;
and, now, these men,” pointing to the grou’
atthe gate, ‘didn't want to let me see you. ”
She was only a child, hardly in her teens,
but so beautiful, that the rudest soldier gazed
upon her with awe-struck admiration.
golden cars floated upon the breeze, eyes
as summer skies looked up i
a Spy's face, and a countenance “ ether-
lovely pictures
Pressed itself to his own smooth ch ee)
Go back, darling, ” he whisper
“Noy no!” she said, “I Ball stay until
they let you go.”
The thought of death for him had not en-
tered her mind; and when some bratal hand
tried to loosen her clasp from the prisoner's
neck, and to force the gibbet open her view,
she screamed with such heart-brcken agony
that {he most hardened soldier present was
appalled for an instant. She released her
hold and knelt to the savage men, raising her
little white hands in entreaty, and saying,
when they told her they were only obeying
me ‘Well, tell me some one I can ask.”
ne man in the crowd, touched by home
ories she called up of his own little
daughter, used his influence with his com-
panions, jnducing them to suspend the execu-
Hon w while he conducted the girl to the Gen-
or But ‘twill be no use,” he muttered to
himself.
And he was right. Not a muscle of the
stern tace relaxed, not asign betrayed whether
the child’s wild entreaties affected him. Once
indeed, he put his hand before his eyesas if to
shut out the sight of her face, but he said at
the same time:
“Yhe Irish killed my child, and I have
vowed to spare none of them. Your brother
must die.”
She tamed oe the man who had been her
gui x hand into his, and said so
eee ‘ppbenty “tbat the tears came into his
e
my ‘Well, then, take me out to see him die.”
Why, the General who never witnessed an
execution, should present himself to look at
this death of a common spy, was inexplicable;
even to himself; but the child had made a
singular impression upon him, and he stood
in the ard while the young‘man was led to
the gibb
The broken, hearted girl had been allowed
o tuke a last farewell, and w y de.
teehed her from the Prisoner's vsocke sh ne was
unconscious. The young man saw her lying
“m:
they were about to draw the screen over his
face, and adjust the rope about his slender
neck, he raised his arm, and pointing to the
General, said in a loud, distinct voice:
“See to her; she is your daughter.”
‘Cut him down! cut him down! screamed
the frantic commander, and then ensued the
ildest commotion.
When order was rettored, the young pri-
soner was brought to the private apartment of
the Genera), when he told how the child
thrown from’ the eminence was but a bundle
of clothes in the form of a baby; the feint
had been adopted by his mother to make the
General think that it was Ais child which was
thus horribly destroyed. \ ‘‘Our people hated
you,” the young man continued, ‘and they
would sacrifice their lives to protect us from
you, My mother died a year since, andI
xould not have discovered to you, even now,
the identity of your child, but that my fears
were aroused for her, when I saw her in the
power of your soldiers, She believes herself
to be my sister, Now, send me to death if
ua will.”
‘The General, broken by the pent-up emo-
tions of years, ‘gasped:
“Never! You have restored my child to
e, ad you shall be as my o'
d papa,” said the happy girl, when at
Jast perceaes recovered—she had heard the
whole strange story—‘‘ you will not hang any
more, nor haye our people suffer so much,
will you?”
The bronze, bearded face bent to her own,
and in tremulous tones, rep!
“In gratitude to Heaven for having re-
stored you to me, I shall fight no more against
forgive me, I hope, the gross wrong I did
her.”
The General resigned his command, and,
after a few months during which he provided
a safe and happy home for his ddughter and
her young girlish- looking uncle, he enlisted in
that cause which he had so long helped to
subdue, and he ‘lied at last fighting for his
native country.
John Russell Young, Minister to China,
was recently entertained at a banquet at Yo-
kaboma which lasted eleven hours. As Mr.
Young was formerly a New York newspaper
man it is hardly necessary to state that he ac-
quitted himself with credit,
“THE MAN OF THE MOOR.
BY WILLIAM COLLINS.
[For Redpath’s Illustrated Weekly.]
thse the | what's in you,
the brave man of the mo
‘an't stand agajnst you
DAVIS.
\HREE hundred years of war and carnage
Sanger, rakk to the
im blood and teens on the plains of Clon-
“What Europe hed failed to accomplish Ire-
land had consummate:
he had stricken to the dust the hardy sea-
rovers of Scandinavia.
the conquerors of Britian.
the banner of the Cross over the standard ot
Thor and Woden! She had braved the North-
man in his potent supremacy and wrested
from him the Ricut ro Rute .
im. but was vanquished —
fhe Saul bat ttled—but was overcome—the soft
Saxon was his swineherd.
“ His men were their serfs by day,
His women their thralls by ight. ”
and in hopelessness and despair millions bowed
down and languished under the tyrannical
‘oke of the heathen Northman,
But Clontarf put an end to their tyranny.
‘There they met MEN!
They were the men cf Ireland
Men whose blood flowed in a pure and un-
sullied channel through countless ages of free-
dom and whose lives were reckoned nothing
if they were not free! At Clontarf Ireland
dom. im peace reigned. The inferior
jonarehies profiting by his victory, tool
courage from his prowess, and facing again
the dreaded ¢ enemy, eventually expelled him
rom their territories.
After three centuries of bloodshed freland
‘he
barous nations of Kurope to faith and knowl-
edge. Then began the second golden age of
Treland..
‘he nation whom the Roman feared to invade
the land that had subdued the Danish Attila’s
and given peace to Europe, though bright in
arms and glorious in war, was gull brighter
and more Glorious i in peace.
‘TI
From geen and {he college ga Bave unt to the shore,
then the ‘‘ Wisdom Sellers” from the inmost
recesses of broad and faithful Connaught,
from Munster and Leinster of green fields and
g meadows and Ulster of* the rock,
Hibbe d coast and rugged hills, poured forth
their treasures of Faith and learning without
stint or recompense into the lap of the bar-
barians! They drew the Briton from his
earthen cave to bask in the sunlight of Heaven
and gave to him a faith, a literature and a
name! They taught to the Teuton the pre-
cepts of the divine Master, and in Dieschland
and Gaul, a thousand places still assert b;
their nah names the impress of their peace-
ef
Well “Inight Mangin, 6 going back into ‘the
ages of old,” exclaim
“T walked entrenond |
Through a land
The San, witirwondous excess ot it light,
Shon e down, and
And baseous * garden sic ‘and right.
in the clims
Tresplendant § spai
Beams no ouch sun upon such | a land.
n I saw thrones,
re circling fires,
And a dome rose near me as by a spell,
ence lowed the tone e8
Of silver lyre:
And many voces in wreuthed swell ; 3
d their thrilling chimes
Ke on mine ears
As the heavenly hymn of an angel band !”
From the overthrow of the Danes, at Clon-
tarf, until the landing of the Normans in
t ore good was accomplished for
God and Civilization by the Irish people than
all Britain has encompassed in centuries of
splendor and fam
& more jnvidoas enemy than the Dane
wae approaching, one in cunning and perfidy
as perfect as the Serpent himself—oue who
looked upon {his Eden of the West with a
longing and an eager eye; one who yearned
to bask in sunshine of her Panty re hun-
gered to Dowsess himself of her charm
Henry of England—the second of the name
quest. Looking at hima through the mists of
seven centuries, what was be and his follow-