THE STORY OF IRELAND

New Zealand Tablet, 4 August 1921, Page 7

THE STORY OF IRELAND

(By A. M. Sullivan.)

CHAPTER LXXXII.-(Continued). But the outlawed Patriot had not shaken the foe from tl hut H TT; He had been traced to *e mountain hut with sleuth-hound patience and certainty and now while he slept in fancied security, the little sheellnt was being stealthily surrounded by the soldiery- ' & Some stir on the outside, some chance rattle of a musket, or clank of sabre, awakened one of the sleepers Ind Dwver glance through a door-chink soon revealed all; that a 7er ne" l * ' ***? ***** t 0 his feet > found f 1 strutd If T 1 f Pr ° Ud defiance and « c °essstruggle, he was Et length in the toils! Presently theofficer in command outside knocked at the door "in the name the king." Dwyer answered, demand" "his bus n ess Ihe officer said he knew that Michael Dwver the Outlaw was inside. "Yes," said Dwvpr «t .V blood ;„/""" j , the ° fficer ' " as J desi '° 'I am the man " house this laid" A i •"S" W e poor man *'h°se confer your pr „ position as B rfs £J*. "'en I shall *£: srjrw poor oottaser ' his ■*■ of "Now, then," cried the officer " s »»-der in the name of the king." ' Sllllendei m the name

~ "Never!" shouted Dwvpr- na j e of Ireland." * ' '° defy you ln the name The hills echoed to the deafening peals that fnil « d on this response. For nearly an hour Dwyer and £ 7 companions defended the sheeling, ke^^^J

bay. But by this time one of them lay mortally wounded. Soon a shout of savage joy from the soldiery outside was followed by a lurid glare all around. V They had set the cabin on fire over the heads of the doomed outlaws Then spoke up Dwyer’s wounded companion, Alexander Mac Alister; “My death is near ;my hour is come. Even if the way was clear, there is no hope for me. Promise to do as I direct, and I will save you all.” Then the poor fellow desired them to prop him up, gun in hand, immediately inside the door. “Now,” continued he, “they are expecting you to rush out, and they have their rifles levelled at the door. Fling it open. Seeing me, they will all fire at me. Do you then quickly dash out through the smoke, before they can load again!” They did as the dying hero bade them. They flung the door aside. There was an instantaneous volley, and the brave Mac Alister fell pierced by fifty bullets. 1 Quick as lightning, Dwyer and his three companions dashed through the smoke. He alone succeeded in breaking through the encircling soldiers; and once outside in the darkness, on those trackless hills he was lost to all pursuit ! Nor was he ever captured. Long afterwards, every effort to that end having been tried for years in vain, he " as offered honorable conditions of surrender. He accepted them; but, when was a treaty kept towards the Irish brave? Its specific terms were basely violated by the government, and he was banished to Australia. The mountaineers of Wicklow to this day keep up the traditions of Michael Dwyer—of his heroism,' his patriotism of his daring feats, his marvellous escapes. But it is of the devoted Mac Alister that they treasure the most tender memory ; and around their firesides in the winter evenings the cottagers of Glenmalure, in rustic ballad or simple story, recount with tearful eyes and beating hearts how he died to save his chief in the sheeling of Imall The following ballad by Mr. T. D. Sullivan, follows literally the story of the hero-martyr Mac Alister: At length brave Michael Dwyer, you and your trusty men Are hunted o’er the mountains and tracked into the glen. bleep not, but watch and listen; keep ready blade and ball; Hie soldiers know you’re hiding to-night in wild Imall.” The soldiers searched the valley, and towards the dawn of day Discovered where the outlaws, the dauntless rebels, lay Around the little cottage they formed into a ring And called out, 'Michael Dwyer! surrender to the king!’ Tims answered Michael Dwyer: “Into this house we came, Unasked by those who own they cannot be to blame. -I hen let these peaceful people unquestioned pass you through, Ami when they’re .placed in safety, I’ll tell yon what we’ll

'T was done, "And now," said Dwyer, "your work you may begin: You ae a hundred outside-we're only four within. We / 9 heard your haughty summons, and this is our reply Were true United Irishmen, we'll fight until we die." Then burst the war's red lightning, then poured the leaden rain, The hills around re-echoe'd the. thunder peals again The soldiers falling round him, brave Dwyer sees with pride But, ah! one gallant comrade is wounded by his side. Yet there are three remaining good battle still to do; true- are Str ° ng and Steady ' their aim is quick ad But hark that furious shouting the savage soldiers raise! The house is fired around them! the roof is in a blaze! And brighter every moment the lurid flame arose, And louder swelled the laughter and cheering of their foes Then spake the brave Mac Alister, the weak" and wounded man: »v#uuueu "You can escape, my .comrades, and this shall be your plan • pTTJ!? J"* hail i S kl r Sket ' then lie upon the floor: 111 and before the soldiers, and open wide the door: They 11 Pour mto my bosom the fire of their array; awl " gUnS are enty ' dash -through them and

■_ t 'J, . He stood before his foemen revealed amidst the flame. From out their levelled pieces the wished-for volley came Up sprang the three survivors for whom the hero died, But only Michael Dwyer broke through the ranks outside. He baffled his pursuers, who followed like the wind He swam the river Slaney, and left them far behind; But many an English soldier he promised soon should fall, For these, his gallant comrades, who died in wild Imall. The surrender of Michael Dwyer was the last event of the insurrection of 1798 —-1803. But, for several years subsequently, the Habeas Corpus Act continued suspended and an insurrection act was in full force. Never up to the hour of Napoleon’s abdication at Fontainbleau, did the spectre of a French invasion of Ireland cease to haunt the mind of England. (To be continued.)