Nebraska Newspapers

    The Frontier
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McCAFPERTY ON IRISH HISTORY
O’Neill Historian Writes Interesting
Letter on British Rule in Ireland.
mentor frontier:—iou asa me xor
an article on the past and present
times in Ireland, the Niobe of nations,
and what do I think of the latest
rebellion there. I told you I’d write
you the article and made the promise
before I realized the stupendous task
you set before me and that I, un
consciously, promised to perform.
Irish history, though imperfectly
understood, is the oldest written his
tory in the world and is a combination
or blending of joys and sorrows sur
passed by no other. Four thousand
years before the Christian era Irish
civilization flourished and gave Erie
the foremost place in the family of
civilized nations, and her Brahon laws
were copied and incorporated into the
laws of Egypt, Greece and other
learned nations, now forgetten and
passed into oblivion.
We read in the history of Ireland
that her 35,000 square miles of the
most fertile and productive soil in the
world was confiscated three different
times and by three different and dis
tinct parties of English, marauding
freebooters and robbers, and each
time the social and financial standing
of the old Irish was reduced to a
deeper and lower level than the
proceeding, former one, until they
reached the bottom.
The last great confiscation of Irish
lands took place immediately after
Cromwell’s conquest of Ireland, 'in
1649j when the Irish lands were given
to his army as payment for services
performed, after which the newly
made owners of the soil and rulers of
the country, for the owners of the land
has always ruled the destines of that
land, and one of the first things the
new rulers did was to make it unlawful
for any Irishman, of the old faith,
and former owners, to own or hold
any land or any other kind of property
of greater value than five pounds
sterling, which rule of law enabled
the minions of the said Cromwell to
get easy possession of all the real and
personal property of Ireland. And
if any of the mere “Irishe” had the
temerity to resist the newly estab
lished mode of proceedure of Crom
wellian acquisition of property, a class
made law, for the purpose of building
up a yoemans garrison of protection,
gave the said yoeman subjects of his
or her Britianic Majesty the right of
carte-blanche to slay the said “Irishe”
I provided he, the preferred subject,came
into court and paid five pounds as a
license for doing so. You may have
read of the penal laws of Ireland,
which laws held sway in that unhappy
! lanr) QAA vnnvn Juvin.a
time one of England’s great judges
publicly said: “It was not supposed
that in all Ireland a Catholic subject
; of his Britannic Majesty existed.”
Some say the Irish question is one
' of religion. It is not, though religion
i has been used as n handy club to
j acquire Irish land and wealth. A large
number of the leading Irish rebels in
every rebellion in the eighteenth and
! nineteenth centuries were patriotic
Irish protestants, such as, Tandy,
Tone, Shears, Fitzgerald, Emmett,
Mitchell, Martin and Smith-O’Brine.
English misrule in Ireland puts to
shame the Englishman’s boast of his
high civilization and his disinterested
and noble deeds on and in behalf of
small nationalities, as, in comparison,
it reduces to a point of insignificance
i the most barbarous acts of the Russian
| Czar’s Cassocks in unhappy Poland
• or the most diabolic acts of the un
speakable Turk in unhappy and de
vastated Armenia. But the Turk has
been Albion’s to-let friend, alley and
boon companion for the last 200 years
aftd a black spot on his hide never
appeared visable to England’s eyes
until he became a Germaniac alley.
■ You’ve heard of Rory O’Moore and
the Irish Rapparees. Well the
O’Moore’s were at the time of the
following happenings the most power
ful clan or sept in the province of
*)! Leinster and were giving the English
viceory considerable trouble and
anxiety. It was finally arranged by
the garrison crowd to get rid of the
O’Moore’s at any cost as best they
could. And the Lord Protector of the
Realm, God save the Mark, invited to
, a great state feast the great chiefs
and leading men and henchmen of Clan
O’Moore who attended to the number
of 285, which was all the great and
petty chiefs of the .O’Moore’s and
1 Kindred families and blood and allied
relatives. They were all there except
Rory who was away from home at
the time and consequently escaped ex
ecution, for you know the English
government of Ireland was always
great on executions. Every single
one of the 285 Irish and O’Moore
! banqueters were put to death after
partaking of the big English repast
| and hospitality. When Rory returned
to what was formerly his home he
found himself the sole and only sur
viving membzer of Clan O’Moore and
so he became Chief of the O’Moore’s.
But it was an empty honor for the
reason that his male kinfolks were
dead, killed, and the patrimony of his
fathers was sequestered away from
him and parcelled out among the
assassins who slew his father, his
brother, cousins and allied relatives.
And then and there Rory vowed ven
gance against the assassins of his
race. He organized a company of cit
izen soldiers to repair the great
wrongs done to him and his and they
took to the mountains where they hid
in caves and were ever after known
by the name of the “Irish Rapperees”
who made periodical forays from their
Wicklow mountain home down through
the low lands of Leix (now Queens
county) the two Meaths, Carlow and
Kildare and up to the gates of Dublin,
and they not only made the suspected
Saxon and shaneen squires suspected
of the O’Moore murders bite the dust
but they exacted tribute from the
well-to-do of fat cattle, swine and
sheep, poultry, butter, eggs and grain.
They committed many criminal ex
cessess but under strong palliating
circumstances and never wronged the
poor and needy so that Rory O’Moore
and his fearless Rapperees became
the burden of thousands of thrilling
songs sung in the market place of
every town in Ireland by a class of
street ballad singers, now past and
gone. The refrain of those stirring
ballads was “Our God our Country
and Rory O’Moore,” or “For the Glory
of Old Ireland Our Lady and Rory
O’Moore” and “‘Fight for Our
Country and Rory O’Moore.”
T.nolf nt tV»o hrnlfpn trnn tv nf T<im
rick, broken by the English ere the
ink wherewith it was written could
dry. And, now, let us see what
Oliver Cromwell did to the Irish people
after robbing them of their lands and
wealth. We read in the English
censored, Irish history that: “Oliver
Cromwell landed in 1649 and besieged
Dragheda, defended by Sir Arthur Ash
ton and a brave garrison. Finding
that their position was untenable they
asked in military language for quar
ters, or the honors of war, if they
surrendered. Cromwell promised to
grant, them “quarters” if they laid
down their arms. They did so and
the promise was kept until the town
was taken. When the town was in
his hands Cromwell gave orders to
his army for the indiscriminate
massacre of the garrison and every
man woman and child in that great
city was put to death. The people,
when they saw the soldiers slaying
around them on every side, when they
saw the streets of Dragheda flowing
with human blood for five days flocked
to the number of one thousand aged
men, women, and children, and took
refuge in the great church of St.
Peters in Dragheda. Cromwell drew
his soldiers around that church, and
out of that church he never let one
of these innocent people escape alive.
He then proceeded to Wexford where
a certain commander named Stratford
delivered the city to him. He massa
creed the people there also. Three
hundred women of Wexford with
their children, gathered around the
great market cross in the public
square of the city. They thought in
their hearts, cruel as he was, he would
respect the sign of man’s redemption
ana spare the lives of those collected
around it. How vain their thoughts!
Three hundred poor defenseless women
screaming for mercy under the cross
of Jesus Christ. Cromwell and his
barbarous demons slaughtered without
permitting one to escape, until they
were ankle deep in the blood of the
women of Wexford.
After this battle of Clontarf Ireland
enjoyed peace for nearly 200 years
until the English under Strongbow in
the reign of Henry II came to Ireland
on or about 1172 with a forged bull
from Pope Adrian, the only English
man who ever sat in the chair of St.
Peter. They, the English, claimed
the Irish were heretics and that the
Pope commissioned them to take the
Irish nation and collect the Peter’s
pence in that country, but the Irish
met them and the bull on the shores
of Leinster and fought them in de
fense of their rights of home and
fireside for 300 years before the
English could claim by the right of
conquest and the Pope’s bull, combined
more than three and a half Irish
counties, but in the next 300 years
they acquired by force and fraud,
backed by war, the balance of the
Irish nation, during which time they
robbed the old Irish of everything
nv/mnl1 ■fnilL in f
God and that He would in His own
good time sustain the just rights of
Ireland. The English even penalized
the language of the Gaul and one of
Ireland’s great Gaelic scholars and
poets writes thus:
“To enstall its Saxon rival prescribed
it soon became,
And Irishmen are Irish now in nothing
but the name,
Russia’s great Zar ne’er stood secure
o’er Poland’s shattered frame,
Until he tore from out her heart the
tongue that bore her name.
For tyrants ever with an art from
darkness sprung,
Will make the conquered slaves alike
in limb and tongue.
Then Irishmen, be Irish still, stand
for the dear old tongue,
Which as ivy to a ruin to your native
land hath clung.
O snatch this relic from the wreck,
the only and the last,
And cherish in your heart of hearts
the language of the past.”
Poland is now free, thanks be to God
and the Kaiser and ’tis said the great
University of Warsaw is again pre
paring to again teach the history of
glorious old Poland there and in her
native Polish tongue, but Erin is
still weeping in chains and is called
afresh to mourn over sixteen newly
made martyrs graves in which are
buried her noble patriotic sons, poets
and scholars, who were shot to death
by perfidious Albion. You nr'v ask
why does powerful England make war
on the Gaelic tongue? It is because it
enshrines like a gem within a casket
a span of 5,000 years of superior Irish
civilization, law and order, which puts
to shame English twentieth century
acts and deeds of wanton barbarity.
For more than 700 years of Eng
land’s rule in Ireland she showed the
foul hand of the ruthless, tyranical des
poiler and Ireland, the prolific mother
of poets, scholars and warriors, had
always faithful sons to defend her
honor. The best known of Irish
rebellions are 1317, 1641-9, 1798, 1848,
1867 and 1916. In 1798 two Irish
counties put up a great fight and held
the English army at bay for months
during which they killed thousands
of English soldiers and Irish Yoemen,
but the other thirty counties failed to
come to their assistance and they were
defeated in the epd when the English
army and said Yoeman were let loose
on the Irish and slew thousands in
cold blood, without the sanction of
law, judge or jury. One man in par
ticular, Lieutenant Hepenstall, exe
cuted, individually, without cause,
more than one thousand victims, by
knocking them down with his gun or
club then using his belt for a halter
and hoisting them over his shoulder
six feet high—he was nearly seven
feet. John Engals Ingram, one of
Ireland’s most gifted and martial
poets, who was the son of a protestant
minister, in Pettigo, county Donegal,
Ireland, wrote the “Memory of the
Dead,” Ireland’s most defiant poem,
in which he said:
“They rose in dark and evil days to
right their native land,
And kindled here a living blaze that
nothing can withstand.
But alas that might can conquer right
they fell and passed away,
But true men like you men are
plenty ncic tuutiy.
The 180,3 rising, or the Emmett re
bellion, was only a flash in the pan,
in the streets of Dublin, and easily put
down by Major Stir without any serious
loss of life and the leader, poor brilli
ant, boyish, Robert Emmett, got the
mockery of a court trial before the
tyrant judge, Lord Norberry, who con
demned him to death and mockingly
asked him if he had anything to say
why sentence of death should not be
pronounced against him, thinking
that he could cowe the poor green and
beardless boy into committing some
fatal blunder, determinal to his fame
and the honor of his country, but in
stead he delivered a superb speech,
beautifully grand and brilliantly de
fiant of the dreadful tyranny and ig
nominious failure of the English gov
ernment to rule his beloved Ireland.
That speech is now read as a classic
in the schools and colleges of the
civilized nations outside of perfidious
Albion,the arch hypocrite of the world.
Let me cite another instance of the
penal law: Some of the grandest and
best beloved of the Irish patriotic
rebels were Anglo-Irish or Irish
protestants or Englishmen trans
planted for a few generations in Erin,
who like the Emmett’s became more
Irish than the Irish themselves and
they rebelled against the tyranny of
English rule in Ireland. They rose
and fought and fell and passed away.
Though Norberry consigned the dead
body of Emmett to what he thought
an unhonored felon’s grave in Gloss
neven, his mother, the undying Irish
nation, has resurrected his fame and
memory and gave him the honors of
national sepulcher in the innermost
shrines of her heart, and cannonized
him as the patron saint of Irish aspir
ations and nationality. But it is
passing strange that you meet with a
class of weak-kneed, basswood Irish
men, so lost to every sense of decency
and patriotic Irish duty, who, while
lauding Emmett to the skies for his
fiasco, have nothing but icy cold dis
dain and sardonic scorn and sneers for
the fate of Hibernias noble self-sacri
ficing and heroic martyrs of 1916.
You don’t gather figs from thistles,
nor does the leopard change his spots,
and English rule in Ireland is as cruel,
vindictive and despotic in 1916 as it
was in 1798 or 1649.
‘Tis only some eighty odd years
since Bryan O’Laughlin, a wealthy
citizen and grand juror of county Kil
dare in Ireland, (it seems he could not
be a grand juror and Catholic at that
time) owned and drove into Dublin
the best team of coach horses in the
province of Leinster, said to be worth
300 guineas, though ten pounds ster
ling was the legal maximum value
of any team that an Irish Catholic
could then and in that country own
and drive. Well Bryan was a little
bit proud of his team and put up at
Dublin’s best hostelry where he met
a man of graft who asked and ob
tained the price or value the juror
O’Laughlin, set upon his fancy team,
after which Mr. Grafter told Bryan
that he was breaking the law by
owning such a fine pair of horses and
handed him ten pounds and said he
would take the team according to law.
O’Laughlin did not take the money
but told the grafter “wait ten minutes”
went to the stables, shot the horses
dead and ever after drove into Dublin
behind a lazy yoke of oxen. And a
little further back the following in
uiuciit imjjpvHCU uu me estate uu which
the writer of this article was born.
The estate is near Ballyshannon, then
Ashawnee, and the owner was one of
the proud old Kellie Chiefs, who still
professed the faith of his fathers,
though in the midst of the penal law,
but now a new law of “discovery” had
just gone into effect, which gave to
the informer who located and reported
to Dublin castle, and penalized Papist
holding or owning any landed proper
ty, without a license, one half of the
nations recovery. Well the great land
owner had in his employ a menial,
a butler, whose father and grand
father had served in his family and
as other land owners were doing, by
a mutual understanding, he sent his
butler to Dublin castle to give the re
quired information, read his recan
tation, took the required oath and
half the estate, which the butler did
and then returned a great landlord to
Ballyshannon where his former master
and employer met him, but was told
that their respective places were
changed and that he, the former
owner, could take the vacant place of
the former servant and he remarked
he would strive to be as good a master
as the retiring one.
But why continue to enumerate
acts of wrong and misgovernment
there where for 750 years of the
English so-called government of Ire
land we can open any chance page of
that history and find in black and
white strong and infallable testimony
of savage and inhuman English deeds
of wanton barbarity against the Irish
and the strongest proof that she
has ignominiously failed to properly
govern that unhappy land.
In the twelfth century she found
Ireland the most prosperous and con
tented country in Europe and after
750 years of plunder and misrule we
behold her the most miserable and
worst, though the most governed—
a nation legislated into outcasts, men
dicants and beggars—begging alms
from the piratical robber nation of
the world—-the arch hypocrite and her
wealthy Dives who became rich by the
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acquisition of the Kellie property and
the thrice confiscated Irish lands.
Look at England’s inhuman treatment
of Ireland, then look at her different
and just treatment of her self-govern
ed colonies whom she permits to
govern themselves. But she has crown
colonies too which are badly governed.
Since the start of the “war of
nations” in 1914 she had several re
bellions besides the Irish and behold
the contrast in treatment. General
Dewit was taken in rebellion in South
Africa; was tried and found guilty of
treason by a jury of his peers and
sentenced to a penalty of eight months
imprisonment, and for some reason
sixteen Irishmen, of whom twelve were
boys, were shot to death. Then one Sir
Edwai'd Carson and Lord John French,
the former leading the Ulster rebellion
in 1913, and at the same time the
latter encouraging and heading a mili
tary mutiny in the army at the bur
rough of Kildare. Sir Edward was
elected to the cabinet and Lord John
made his Britannic Majesty’s com
mander-in-chief of the British forces
on the Continent of Europe, and a nice
broze he made of it.
When the 1916 Irish rebels in Dublin
laid down their arms a leading Irish
American citizen of O’Neill asked me
what would the British govenment do
with them? My answer was, “hang
or shoot them—the leaders,’ and he
replied that I was wrong and asked
did I think the “great, glorious and
enlightened statesmen of Great Britian
and Ireland would stoop to the methods
and come down to the level of the
Huns and savages of Germany and
Austria” and wound up by saying:
“No those rebels are prisioners of
war and will be treated with all due
respect due them as such.” Next
day the first batch of the 1916 Irish
martyers were shot to death by an
English military shooting squad in the
tower of London, just as they shot or
hung the leaders of 1798 and 1803, or
the leaders of the risings in India
Oude or Egypt, or as they would
have done to George Washington,
Thomas Jefferson, Charles Carroll and
Patrick Henry. It is only savages
that murder their prisoners of war,
and there is always something brutal
and barbarous in the English treat
ment of everything relating to Irish
Ireland in which, under her exclusive
and benign sway, for more than 100
years the face of a Catholic priest
was’nt seen in that unhappy and
bleeding Catholic country. And for 300
years she bent every effort of her
nation a school only the “Hedge”—a
school held behind a hedge or fence
of white hawthorne closely shaven
bushes or behind a turf stack, rock
or in a mountain cave. Mother Eng
land spent the greater part of her
tyrannic rule of 300 years of penal
laws in brutalizing the Irish after
first robbing them, and then sent her j
myrmidonians after them into exile to
point the finger of scorn at them, by
saying to the stranger: “See and be
hold the ignorant pauper, Paddy from
Ireland—a worthies ignoramus, too
lazy to work and too poor to buy him
raiment.” But she never told that
she was pointing to a piece of her
own handi-work.
Now Mr. Cronin this article is
pretty long but just one more word
and then I’m done. I’ll say no
country is great enough nor good
enough to govern another country by
force without that country’s consent,
especially if the two represent dif
ferent nationalities aVid above and be
yond question the English have proven
themselves unfit to govern the Irish,
as no two European nations are more
unlike.
Well you may have struck me at
the right and opportune time for a
write-up but methinks I hear you say:
“Poor wayward and foolish John Mc
Cafferty with all your book learning
and historic lore you have still to
learn of lower deep levels of
Continued on page five.)
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