CHAPTER XXII. THE DAY OF 'CASTLEBAR'
We were all occupied with our drill at daybreak on the morning of the27th of August, when a mounted orderly arrived at full gallop, withnews that our troops were in motion for Castlebar, and orders for usimmediately to march to their support, leaving only one subaltern andtwenty men in 'the Castle.'
The worthy bishop was thunderstruck at the tidings. It is more thanprobable that he never entertained any grave fears of our ultimatesuccess; still he saw that in the struggle, brief as it might be,rapine, murder, and pillage would spread over the country, and thatcrime of every sort would be certain to prevail during the shortinterval of anarchy.
As our drums were beating the 'rally,' he entered the garden, andwith hurried steps came forward to where Colonel Charost was standingdelivering his orders.
'Good-day, Mons. l'Eveque,' said the colonel, removing his hat, andbowing low. You see us in a moment of haste. The campaign has opened,and we are about to march.'
'Have you made any provision for the garrison of this town, colonel?'said the bishop, in terror. 'Your presence alone here restrained thepopulation hitherto. If you leave us-----'
'We shall leave you a strong force of our faithful allies, sir,' saidCharost; 'Irishmen could scarcely desire better defenders than theircountrymen.'
'You forget, colonel, that some of us here are averse to this cause,but, as non-combatants, lay claim to protection.'
'You shall have it, too, Mons. l'Eveque; we leave an officer and twentymen.'
'An officer and twenty men!' echoed the bishop, in dismay.
'Quite sufficient, I assure you,' said Charost coldly; 'and if a hairof one of their heads be injured by the populace, trust me, sir, that weshall take a terrible vengeance.'
'You do not know these people, sir, as I know them,' said the bishopeagerly. 'The same hour that you march out, will the town of Killala begiven up to pillage. As for your retributive justice, I may be pardonedfor not feeling any consolation in the pledge, for certes neither I normine will live to witness it.'
As the bishop was speaking, a crowd of volunteers, some in uniform andall armed, drew nearer and nearer to the place of colloquy; and althoughunderstanding nothing of what went forward in the foreign language,seemed to watch the expressions of the speakers' faces with a most keeninterest. To look at the countenances of these fellows, truly one wouldnot have called the bishop's fears exaggerated; their expression wasthat of demoniac passion and hatred.
'Look, sir,' said the bishop, turning round, and facing the mob, 'lookat the men to whose safeguard you propose to leave us.'
Charost made no reply; but making a sign for the bishop to remain wherehe was, re-entered the pavilion hastily. I could see, through the windowthat he was reading his despatches over again, and evidently takingcounsel with himself how to act. The determination was quickly come to.
'Mons. l'Eveque,' said he, laying his hand on the bishop's arm, 'I findthat my orders admit of a choice on my part. I will, therefore, remainwith you myself, and keep a sufficient force of my own men. It is notimpossible, however, that in taking this step I may be perilling myown safety. You will, therefore, consent that one of your sons shallaccompany the force now about to march, as a hostage. This is not anunreasonable request on my part.'
'Very well, sir,' said the bishop sadly. 'When do they leave?'
'Within half an hour,' said Charost.
The bishop, bowing, retraced his steps through the garden back to thehouse. Our preparations for the road were by this time far advanced. Thecommand said, 'Light marching order, and no rations'; so that weforesaw that there was sharp work before us. Our men--part of the 12thdemi-brigade, and a half company of grenadiers--were, indeed, ready onthe instant; but the Irish were not so easily equipped. Many had strayedinto the town; some, early as it was, were dead drunk; and not a few hadmislaid their arms or their ammunition, secretly preferring the chanceof a foray of their own to the prospect of a regular engagement with theRoyalist troops.
Our force was still a considerable one, numbering at least fifteenhundred volunteers, besides about eighty of our men. By seven o'clockwe were under march, and with drums beating, defiled from the narrowstreets of Killala into the mountain-road that leads to Cloonagh; itbeing our object to form a junction with the main body at the foot ofthe mountain.
Two roads led from Ballina to Castlebar--one to the eastward, the otherto the west of Lough Con. The former was a level road, easily passableby wheel carriages, and without any obstacle or difficulty whatever;the other took a straight direction over lofty mountains, and in onespot--the Pass of Barnageeragh--traversed a narrow defile, shut inbetween steep cliffs, where a small force, assisted by artillery, couldhave arrested the advance of a great army. The road itself, too, wasin disrepair; the rains of autumn had torn and fissured it, while heavysandslips and fallen rocks in many places rendered it almost impassable.
The Royalist generals had reconnoitred it two days before, and were soconvinced that all approach in this direction was out of thequestion, that a small picket of observation, posted near the Pass ofBarnageeragh, was withdrawn as useless, and the few stockades they hadfixed were still standing as we marched through.
General Humbert had acquired all the details of these separate lines ofattack, and at once decided for the mountain-road, which, besides theadvantage of a surprise, was in reality four miles shorter.
The only difficulty was the transport of our artillery, but as we merelycarried those light field-pieces called 'curricle guns,' and had no wantof numbers to draw them, this was not an obstacle of much moment. Withfifty, sometimes sixty, peasants to a gun, they advanced at a run, upplaces where our infantry found the ascent sufficiently toilsome. Here,indeed, our allies showed in the most favourable colours we had yet seenthem. The prospect of a fight seemed to excite their spirits almostto madness; every height they surmounted they would break into a wildcheer, and the vigour with which they tugged the heavy ammunition-cartsthrough the deep and spongy soil never interfered with the joyous shoutsthey gave, and the merry songs they chanted in rude chorus.
'Tra, la, la! the French is comin', What 'll now the red-coats do? Maybe they won't get a drubbin'! Sure we 'll lick them black and blue!
'Ye little knew the day was near ye, Ye little thought they 'd come so far; But here's the boys that never fear ye-- Run, yer sowls, for Castlebar!'
To this measure they stepped in time, and although the poetry waslost upon our ignorance, the rattling joyousness of the air soundedpleasantly, and our men, soon catching up the tune, joined heartily inthe chorus. Another very popular melody ran somewhat thus:--
'Our day is now begun, Says the Shan van voght, Our day is now begun, Says the Shan van voght. Our day is now begun, And ours is all the fun! Be my sowl ye 'd better run! Says the Shan van voght!'
There were something like a hundred verses to this famous air, but itis more than likely, from the specimen given above, that my reader willforgive the want of memory that leaves me unable to quote the remainingninety-nine; nor is it necessary that I should add, that the merit ofthese canticles lay in the hoarse accord of a thousand rude voices,heard in the stillness of a wild mountain region, and at a time whenan eventful struggle was before us; such were the circumstances whichpossibly made these savage rhymes assume something of terrible meaning.
We had just arrived at the entrance of Barnageeragh, when one of ourmounted scouts rode up to say, that a peasant, who tended cattle onthe mountains, had evidently observed our approach, and hastened intoCastlebar with the tidings.
It was difficult to make General Humbert understand this fact.
'Is this the patriotism we have heard so much of? Are these the peoplewho would welcome us as deliverers?! _Parbleu!_ I've seen nothing butlukewarmness or downright opposition since I landed! In that same townwe have just quitted--a miserable hole, too, was it--what was thefirst sight that greeted us? a
fellow in our uniform hanging fromthe stanchion of a window, with an inscription round his neck, to thepurport that he was a traitor! This is the fraternity which our Irishfriends never wearied to speak of!'
Our march was now hastened, and in less than an hour we debouched fromthe narrow gorge into the open plain before the town of Castlebar. A fewshots in our front told us that the advanced picket had fallen in withthe enemy, but a French cheer also proclaimed that the Royalists hadfallen back, and our march continued unmolested. The road, which waswide and level here, traversed a flat country, without hedgerow orcover, so that we were able to advance in close column, without anyprecaution for our flanks; but before us there was a considerableascent, which shut out all view of the track beyond it. Up this ouradvanced guard was toiling, somewhat wearied with a seven hours' marchand the heat of a warm morning, when scarcely had the leading filestopped the ridge, than plump went a round shot over their heads, which,after describing a fine curve, plunged into the soft surface of a newlyploughed field. The troops were instantly retired behind the crest ofthe hill, and an orderly despatched to inform the general that wewere in face of the enemy. He had already seen the shot and marked itsdirection. The main body was accordingly halted, and defiling from thecentre, the troops extended on either side into the fields. While thismovement was being effected Humbert rode forward, and crossing theridge, reconnoitred the enemy.
It was, as he afterwards observed, a stronger force than he hadanticipated, consisting of between three and four thousand bayonets,with four squadrons of horse, and two batteries of eight guns, thewhole admirably posted on a range of heights, in front of the town, andcompletely covering it.
The ridge was scarcely eight hundred yards' distance, and so distinctlywas every object seen, that Humbert and his two aides-de-camp wereat once marked and fired at, even in the few minutes during which thereconnaissance lasted.
As the general retired the firing ceased, and now all our arrangementswere made without molestation of any kind. They were, indeed, of thesimplest and speediest Two companies of our grenadiers were marched tothe front, and in advance of them, about twenty paces, were posted abody of Irish in French uniforms. This place being assigned them, it wassaid, as a mark of honour, but in reality for no other purpose than todraw on them the Royalist artillery, and thus screen the grenadiers.
Under cover of this force came two light six-pounder guns, loadedwith grape, and intended to be discharged at point-blank distance. Theinfantry brought up the rear in three compact columns, ready to deployinto line at a moment.
In these very simple tactics no notice whatever was taken of the greatrabble of Irish who hung upon our flanks and rear in disorderlymasses, cursing, swearing, and vociferating in all the licenseof insubordination; and O'Donnell, whose showy uniform contrastedstrikingly with the dark-blue coat and low glazed cocked-hat of Humbert,was now appealed to by his countrymen as to the reason of this palpableslight.
'What does he want? what does the fellow say?' asked Humbert, as henoticed his excited gestures and passionate manner.
'He is remonstrating, sir,' replied I, 'on the neglect of hiscountrymen; he says that they do not seem treated like soldiers; no posthas been assigned, nor any order given them.'
'Tell him, sir,' said Humbert, with a savage grin, 'that the disciplinewe have tried in vain to teach them hitherto, we'll not venture torehearse under an enemy's fire; and tell him also that he and his raggedfollowers are free to leave us, or, if they like better, to turn againstus, at a moment's warning.'
I was saved the unpleasant task of interpreting this civil message byConolly, who, taking O'Donnell aside, appeared endeavouring to reasonwith him, and reduce him to something like moderation.
'There, look at them, they're running like sheep!' cried Humbert,laughing, as he pointed to an indiscriminate rabble, some hundred yardsoff, in a meadow, and who had taken to their heels on seeing a roundshot plunge into the earth near them. 'Come along, sir: come with me,and when you have seen what fire is, you may go back and tell yourcountrymen! Serasin, is all ready? Well then, forward, march!'
'March!' was now re-echoed along the line, and steadily, as on a parade,our hardy infantry stepped out, while the drums kept up a continued rollas we mounted the hill.
The first to cross the crest of the ascent were the 'Legion,' as theIrish were called, who, dressed like French soldiers, were selected forsome slight superiority in discipline and bearing. They had but gainedthe ridge, however, when a well-directed shot from a six-pounder smashedin amongst them, killing two, and wounding six or seven others. Thewhole mass immediately fell back on our grenadiers. The confusioncompelled the supporting column to halt, and once more the troops wereretired behind the hill.
'Forward, men, forward!' cried Humbert, riding up to the front, andin evident impatience at these repeated checks; and now the grenadierspassed to the front, and, mounting the height, passed over, while ashower of balls flew over and around them. A small slated house stoodhalf-way down the hill, and for this the leading files made a dash andgained it, just as the main body were, for the third time, driven backto re-form.
It was now evident that an attack in column could not succeed against afire so admirably directed, and Humbert quickly deployed into line, andprepared to storm the enemy's position.
Up to this the conduct of the Royalists had been marked by the greateststeadiness and determination. Every shot from their batteries had told,and all promised an easy and complete success to their arms. Nosooner, however, had our infantry extended into line, than the militia,unaccustomed to see an enemy before them, and unable to calculatedistance, opened a useless, dropping fire, at a range where not a bulletcould reach!
The ignorance of this movement, and the irregularity of the discharge,were not lost upon our fellows, most of whom were veterans of the armyof the Rhine, and, with a loud cheer of derision, our troops advancedto meet them, while a cloud of skirmishers dashed forward and securedthemselves under cover of a hedge.
Even yet, however, no important advantage had been gained by us, and ifthe Royalists had kept their ground in support of their artillery,we must have been driven back with loss; but, fortunately for us, amovement we made to keep open order was mistaken by some of the militiaofficers for the preparation to outflank them, a panic seized thewhole line, and they fell back, leaving their guns totally exposed andunprotected.
'They 're running! they 're running!' was the cry along our line; andnow a race was seen, which should be first up with the artillery. Thecheers at this moment were tremendous, for our 'allies,' who had keptwide aloof hitherto, were now up with us, and, more lightly equippedthan we were, soon took the lead. The temerity, however, was costly, forthree several times did the Royalist artillery load and fire; and eachdischarge, scarcely at half-musket range, was terribly effective.
We were by no means prepared for either so sudden or complete a success,and the scene was exciting in the highest degree, as the whole linemounted the hill, cheering madly. From the crest of this rising groundwe could now see the town of Castlebar beneath us, into which theRoyalists were scampering at full speed. A preparation for defending thebridge into the town did not escape the watchful eyes of our general,who again gave the word 'Forward!' not by the road alone, but alsoby the fields at either side, so as to occupy the houses that shouldcommand the bridge, and which, by a palpable neglect, the others hadforgotten to do.
Our small body of horse, about twenty hussars, were ordered to chargethe bridge, and had they been even moderately well mounted, must havecaptured the one gun of the enemy at once; but the miserable cattle,unable to strike a canter, only exposed them to a sharp musketry; andwhen they did reach the bridge, five of their number had fallen. Thesix-pounder was, however, soon taken, and the gunners sabred at theirposts, while our advanced guard coming up, completed the victory; andnothing now remained but a headlong flight.
Had we possessed a single squadron of dragoons, few could have escapedus, for not a vestige of disciplin
e remained. All was wild confusionand panic. Such of the officers as had ever seen service, were alreadykilled or badly wounded; and the younger ones were perfectly unequal tothe difficult task of rallying or restoring order to a routed force.
The scene in the market-square, as we rode in, is not easily to beforgotten; about two hundred prisoners were standing in a group,disarmed, it is true, but quite unguarded, and without any preparationor precaution against escape!
Six or seven English officers, amongst whom were two majors, weregathered around General Humbert, who was conversing with them intones of easy and jocular familiarity. The captured guns of the enemy(fourteen in all) were being ranged on one side of the square, whilebehind them were drawn up a strange-looking line of men, with theircoats turned. These were part of the Kilkenny militia, who had desertedto our ranks after the retreat began.
Such was the 'fight' of Castlebar. It would be absurd to call it a'battle'--a day too inglorious for the Royalists to reflect any creditupon us; but, such as it was, it raised the spirits of our Irishfollowers to a pitch of madness, and, out of our own ranks, none nowdoubted in the certainty of Irish independence.
Our occupation of the town lasted only a week; but, brief as the timewas, it was sufficient to widen the breach between ourselves and ourallies into an open and undisguised hatred. There were, unquestionably,wrongs on both sides. As for us, we were thoroughly, bitterlydisappointed in the character of those we had come to liberate; and,making the egregious mistake of confounding these semi-civilisedpeasants with the Irish people, we deeply regretted that ever the Frencharmy should have been sent on so worthless a mission. As for them, theyfelt insulted and degraded by the offensive tone we assumed towardsthem. Not alone were they never regarded as comrades, but a tauntinginsolence of manner was assumed in all our dealings with them, verystrikingly in contrast to that with which we conducted ourselves towardsall the other inhabitants of the island, even those who were avowedlyinimical to our object and our cause.
These things, with native quickness, they soon remarked. They saw theconsideration and politeness with which the bishop and his family weretreated; they saw several Protestant gentlemen suffered to return totheir homes 'on parole.' They saw, too--worse grievance of all--howall attempts at pillage were restrained, or severely punished, and theyasked themselves, 'To what end a revolt, if neither massacre nor robberywere to follow? If they wanted masters and rulers, sure they had theEnglish that they were used to, and could at least understand.'
Such were the causes, and such the reasonings, which gradually atedeeper and deeper into their minds, rendering them at first sullen,gloomy, and suspicious, and at last insubordinate, and openly insultingto us.
Their leaders were the first to exhibit this state of feeling. Affectinga haughty disdain for us, they went about with disparaging stories ofthe French soldiery; and at last went even so far as to impugn theircourage!
In one of the versions of the affair at Castlebar, it was roundlyasserted that but for the Irish threatening to fire on them, the Frenchwould have turned and fled; while in another, the tactics of thatday were all ascribed to the military genius of Neal Kerrigan, who,by-the-bye, was never seen from early morning until late the sameafternoon, when he rode into Castlebar on a fine bay horse that belongedto Captain Shortall of the Royal Artillery!
If the feeling between us and our allies was something less thancordial, nothing could be more friendly than that which subsistedbetween us and such of the Royalists as we came in contact with. Theofficers who became our prisoners were treated with every deference andrespect. Two field-officers and a captain of carbineers dined dailywith the general, and Serasin entertained several others. We likedthem greatly; and I believe I am not flattering if I say that theywere equally satisfied with us. _Nos amis l'ennemis_, was the constantexpression used in talking of them; and every day drew closer the tiesof this comrade regard and esteem.
Such was the cordial tone of intimacy maintained between us, that Iremember well, one evening at Humbert's table, an animated discussionbeing carried on between the general and an English staff-officer onthe campaign itself--the Royalist averring that in marching southwardat all, a gross and irreparable mistake had been made, and that if theFrench had occupied Sligo, and extended their wings towards the north,they would have secured a position of infinitely greater strength, andalso become the centre for rallying round them a population of a verydifferent order from the half-starved tribes of Mayo.
Humbert affected to say that the reason for his actual plan was thattwenty thousand French were daily expected to land in Lough Swilly, andthat the western attack was merely to occupy time and attention, whilethe more formidable movement went on elsewhere.
I know not if the English believed this; I rather suspect not. Certes,they were too polite to express any semblance of distrust of what wastold them with all the air of truth.
It was amusing, too, to see the candour with which each party discussedthe other to his face--the French general criticising all the faultytactics and defective manoeuvres of the Royalists; while the Englishnever hesitated to aver that whatever momentary success might wait uponthe French arms, they were just as certain to be obliged to capitulatein the end.
'You know it better than I do, general,' said the major of dragoons. 'Itmay be a day or two earlier or later, but the issue will and must be--asurrender.'
'I don't agree with you,' said Humbert, laughing; 'I think there willbe more than one "Castlebar." But let the worst happen--and you mustown that your haughty country has received a heavy insult--your greatEngland has got a _soufflet_ in the face of all Europe!'
This, which our general regarded as a great compensation--the greatest,perhaps, he could receive for all defeat--did not seem to affect theEnglish with proportionate dismay, nor even to ruffle the equanimity oftheir calm tempers.
Upon one subject both sides were quite agreed--that the peasantry nevercould aid, but very possibly would always shipwreck, every attempt towin national independence.
'I should have one army to fight the English, and two to keep down theIrish!' was Humbert's expression; and very little experience served toshow that there was not much exaggeration in the sentiment.
Our week at Castlebar taught us a good lesson in this respect. Thetroops, wearied with a march that had begun on the midnight of the daybefore, and with an engagement that lasted from eight till two in theafternoon, were obliged to be under arms for several hours, to represspillage and massacre. Our allies now filled the town, to the numberof five thousand, openly demanding that it should be given up to them,parading the streets in riotous bands, and displaying banners with longlists of names doomed for immediate destruction.
The steadiness and temper of our soldiery were severely tried by thesefactious and insubordinate spirits; but discipline prevailed at last,and before the first evening closed in, the town was quiet, and, for thetime at least, danger over.