THE STORY OF IRELAND S

New Zealand Tablet, 8 April 1920, Page 7

THE STORY OF IRELAND S

(By A. M. Sullivan.)

CHAPTER L.—-THE RETREAT TO LEITRIM; “THE MOST ROMANTIC AND GALLANT ACHIEVEMENT OF THE AGE.” ; ' ; ; v ! ; On the last day of December, 1602, was commenced this memorable retreat, which every writer or commentator, whether of that period or of our own, civil or military, English or Irish, has concurred in characterising as scarcely to be paralleled in history. Tyrrell and other of the confederates had'drawn off some time previously, when sauve qui pent evidently , became the maxim with the despair-stricken band; so that O’Sullivan’s force when setting out from Glengariffe consisted exactly of 400 fighting men, and about 600 non-combatants, women, children, aged and infirm people, and servants. Even in our own day, and in time of peace, with full facilities of transport and supply, the commissariat arrangements necessary to be made beforehand along the route of such a body—looo souls —would require some skill* and organisation. . But O’Sullivan could on no day tell where or how his people were -to find sustenance for the morrow. He had money enough, it is true, to purchase supplies; but no one durst sell them to him, or permit him to take them. | Word was sent through the country by the Lord President for all, on peril of being treated as O’Sullivan’s covert or open abettors, to fall upon him, to cross his road, to bar his way, to watch him at the fords, to come upon him by night; and, above all, to drive off or destroy all cattle .or other possible means of sustenance, so that of sheer necessity his party must perish on the way. Whose lands soever O’Sullivan would be found to have passed through unresisted, or whereupon he was allowed to find food of any kind, the Government would consider forfeited. Such were the circumstances under which the Lord of Bcara and. his immortal Four Hundred set out on their midwinter retreat on December 31, 1602. That evening, Don Philip tells us, they reached and encamped at “a place on the borders of Muskerry, called by the natives Acharis.” Next day, January 1, 1603, they reached, “before noon,” “Balebrunia” (Bally vourny), famed as the retreat of St. Gnbeneta, whose ruined church and penitential stations are still frequented by pious pilgrims. Hero O’Sullivan and his entire force halted, that they might begin their journey by offering all their suffer-, ings to God, and supplicating the powerful prayers of His saints. Donal and several members of his family made gifts to the altar, and ’ the little army, having prayed for some time, resumed their weary march. The ordeal commenced for them soon. They were assailed and harassed all the way “by the sons of Thadeus Mac Carthy,” several being wounded on both sides. They cleared their road, however, and that night encamped in “O’Kimbhi” (O’Keefe’s country: Duhallow); “but,” says Philip, “they had little rest at night after such a toilsome day, for they were constantly molested by the people of that place, and suffered most painfully from hunger. For they had been able to bring with them but one day’s provisions, and these they had consumed on the first day’s march.” Next morning they pushed forward towards the confines of Limerick, designing to reach that ancient refuge, of the oppressed and vanquished, the historic Glen of Aherlow, where at least they hoped for rest in safety during a. few days’ halt, but their path now lay through the midst of their —right between the garrisons of Charleville and Buttevant, and they scarcely hoped to cross the river in their front without a heavy penalty. And, truly enough, as the faint and weary cavalcade reached the bank, a strong force under the brother of Viscount Barry encountered them at Bellaghy "Ford. The women and children were at once put to the rear, and the hunger-wasted company,- nevertheless all unflinching, came up to the conflict like heroes. It was a bitter fight, but despair gave energy to that desperate fugitive band. They literally swept their foes before them, , and i would not have suffered a man to escape them had not hunger and terrible privation told upon them too severely to allow of a pursuit. Dr. Joyce chronicles this combat for us in one of his ballads: • - We stood so steady, All under fire, / . > We stood so steady, Our long spears ready V To vent our ire To dash on the Saxon, Our mortal foe, And lay him low In the bloody mire!

’Twas by Blackwafer, When snows were white, ’Twas by Blackwater, Our foes for the slaughter • Stood full in sight; But we were ready \. With our long spears ; And we had no fears But w 7 e’d win the fight. Their bullets came whistling Upon our rank, Their bullets came whistling, Their bay’nets M-ere bristling On the other bank. Yet we stood steady. And each good blade Ere the morn, did fade At their life-blood drank. Hurrah! for Freedom!” Came from our van ; Hurrah ! for Freedom ! Our swords —we’ll feed ’em As but we can With vengeance we’ll feed ’em!” Then down wo crashed, Through the wild ford dashed, And the fray began ! Horses to horses And man to man O’er dying horses And blood and corses O’Sullivan, Our general, thundered ; And we were not slack To slay at his back Till the flight began. Oh! how we scattered The foemen then Slaughtered and scattered And chased and shattered, By shore and glen ; — To the wall of Moyallo, Few fled that day, — Will they bar our way When we come again? Our dead freres we buried, — They were but few, — Our dead freres we buried Where the dark waves hurried And flashed and flew : Oh ! sweet be their slumber Who thus hate died In the battle’s tide, Innisfail, for you ! (To be continued.)