The French Invasion of Ireland in '98: Leaves of Unwritten History that tell of an Heroic Endeavor and a Lost Opportunity to throw off England's Yoke....continued
A serene and cloudless sky, and brillant sun, rendered the 22d of August one of the finest days of that remarkable season.
It was on the morning of that day, whilst proceeding from Palmerstown to Killala, I first beheld a ship of war; three vessels of unusual size, magnified by the still calm of the ocean, stretched slowly across the bay of Rathfran, (on the larboard tack,), weathering the reef which divides it from the bay of Killala: a smaller vessel appeared in the offing.
About twelve o'clock the frigates were visible from the steeple hill and the higher parts of the town; they showed English colours.
The collector and some other persons proceeded on board; between two and three o'clock, p. m. the frigates were standing across towards the bay of Rathfran; marks of agitation and restlessness became now apparent amongst several of the inhabitants. I met O'Kearney, the classical teacher, as he was returning from the "Acres," a remote and elevated quarter of the town, a half suppressed smile of satisfaction played on his countenance as he saluted me; it was the last time we ever spoke. At four o'clock the agitation and alarm increased; the revenue officers had not returned. The inhabitants were fronted on the Steeple Hill, Captain William Kirkwood of the yeomanry, now joined in uniform, as were several of his corps, who now begun to make their appearance. Two officers of the Carabineers arrived from Ballina; they had been at the Cape of Good Hope, and were judges of all those sort of things; we awaited their opinion with anxiety—they could form none. "Here," said Captain Kirkwood, handing his telescope to an old seaman belonging to the town, who had served under Howe and Rodney, "here, tell me what these vessels are." "They are French, Sir, (replied the veteran), I know them by the cut and colour of their sails."
Quitting the crowd, Captain Kirkwood was accosted by Neal Kerugan, (afterward an active chief of insurgents,) inquiring, what nation the frigates belonged to. "Ah, Neal, (replied the Captain) you know as well as I do." Returning now to Palmerstown, I had scarcely arrived, when a neighbouring peasant on horseback, breathless, and with the perspiration of terror streaming down his forehead, announced that a body of strangers in dark uniforms, had landed from the ships—were distributing arms—had been joined by several of the inhabitants, and were actually advancing.— "There they come," said he, pointing to an eminence a mile and half distant, over which the road passed, and we beheld a dark and solid mass, moving onwards; their arms glittered in the rays of the declining sun. They were occasionally visible as they passed over the inequalities of the ground, till emerging from a banky part of the road, within a quarter of a mile of Palmerstown, we beheld their column of about 800 men, silently, but rapidly, advancing. They were preceded at some distance by a single horseman, a robust middle-aged man, dressed in a long green hunting frock, and high conical fur cap; stopping for a moment, he saluted us in the Leinster patois of Irish, with "Go de mu ha tu." (how do ye do?)—) A general officer (Sarrazin) and Aid du Camp (Mr. Tone were now close up, a laugh of approbation was interchanged between the Chasseur and his General.
The Commander-in-Chief (Humbert) seated in a gig now advanced at the head of this celebrated band of warriors, which regularly, but with precision, pressed rapidly forwards; calm and unconcerned, they presented no indication of men going into combat. Having crossed the bridge of Palmers-town, about 300 men were countermarched and bivouacked on the green esplanade in front of the village; the remainder marched on to Killala.
The sun had set behind the western wave and the grey twilight of evening was fast advancing, as the French, descending the hill of Mullagharn, beheld the yeomanry and a party of the Liecestershire fencibles, forming on a commanding ridge, at the entrance of the town; Captain Kirkwood had been just apprised of the hostile landing, by a fisherman, who had crossed at Rathfran, whilst the French detoured by Palmerstown; and had ordered his men to this post, from which, however, they retired into the town, on the nearer approach of the French. Three streets diverge from the centre of Killala, in the form of a sportsman's turnscrew: one southerly towards the "Acres;" a second westerly, by which the French were advancing; the third or main street, easterly, winding by the Church-yard wall, on a steep declivity to the Castle; and onwards towards Ballina.
It was on the edge of this declivity, the military re-formed; Moreau could not have chosen a more judicious position for a retreat. Humbert on reaching the outskirts of the town, made his dispositions -. he detached a party under Neal Kerrugan (who had first joined him), across the Meadows, to enter by the "Acres," road, in order to cut off the retreat of the military by that rout, or turn them if in position; he advanced a few sections, en Tirailleur, to occupy the ridge from which the military had retired. The Chasseur gallopped into the town to reconnoitre; he was scarcely out of sight in the winding street, when a single shot was heard, followed at a short interval, by a random scatterry volley:—it was a moment of anxious suspense, but the Chasseur bore a charmed life. On approaching the Market-place, he was challenged by a yeoman, (a young gentleman of the place), who had loitered behind his companions, with "What do ye want, you spy?"; the answer was a bullet through the body, and he fell dead into the door of a house at which he was standing. The veteran then reconnoitred the line of the military, and receiving their fire, returned to his comrades: he related these events with the sang froid of an amateur; he had been in twenty battles, and had never had the honour of receiving the entire fire of the enemy's line before.
The Tirailleurs were warmly engaged; the column redoubled its speed, and at the centre of the town, a party of Grenadiers which marched at its head, deployed on the main street; they were received by an ill directed volley from the military, at about one hundred yards distance: their Captain was struck with a ball on the foot, foaming with rage, he ordered his Grenadiers to charge. It was refused by the Military; the Yeomanry first broke ground and were soon followed by the Fencibles. Protected by the declivity and the church-yard wall, from the French fire, the yeomanry escaped through the Castle gates; the Fencibles fled onwards towards Ballina; Captain Kirkwood turned down, by his own house, to the strand, expecting to reach Ballina, unperceived, by that route. One yeoman alone remained, Mr. Smith, the respectable apothecary of the town; aged and afflicted with gout, he was unable to keep pace with his companions; excluded, on shutting the castle gates, he struggled to reach his own house, it was not distant one hundred yards, but his days were numbered; the Chasseur was at his heels, eager to make Captain Kirkwood, (whom he first observed) his prisoner, he disdained the same favour to a soldier belonging to the ranks—he fired and the unfortunate man fell a lifeless corpse.
A. I.
NOTES:-
[1] Amalgadus, Amhley (hodie Awley) was prince of this district, on the arrival of Saint Patrick, called by a voice from the wood of Foclut (Faghd) to the conversion of the natives of this country, Awley received the Apostle with hospitality, by whom he was converted, together with 7000 of his subjects in one day, after a violent disputation with the Chief of the Druids, whose Crum Dhu, or Altar of Sacrifice he overturned, casting the eternal fire into a cavern communicating with the ocean, called therefrom, to this day, Pal na shan tinne, or the cavern of the ancient fire. The memory of this event is annually celebrated on the first Sunday in August, called Donagh Crum Dhu, at Downpatrick, five miles west of Killala. Awley divided his principality, thenceforth called Tyrawley, amongst his sons—retired from the cares of the world, to a cell, which he built at the place, thenceforth called Killala, in Irish, Kilawley—near Killala is Kill-e-brone, or the cell of Bronus, with whom according to the book of Armagh, the Apostle sojourned a considerable time during these events.
[2] No subject connected with Irish Antiquities has been so fruitful of controversy and conjecture as these ecclesiastical buildings, called by the natives in Irish Clochach, or the House of the Bell, in contradistinction to Clogas — the Belfry, a place of Bells. The theorist, blinded by prejudice, or system, seeks for their origin amongst the Danes, forgetting that except in Dublin, and a few other points on the coast contiguous, they possessed no footing in this kingdom; and that neither in their native country, nor in the Danish part of Dublin, which was their capital, do such buildings exist. Klaproth in his "Travels in Georgia," describes one of these round steeples, as attached to a church in that country—what will the theorists say to that? The round form of these steeples, was probably in compliance with the former religious feelings of the people, or to ensure their durability; if the latter, they have fully answered the intention. The steeple of Killala, and primitive Church were built by Gobhan, an eminent architect, and divine, about the close of the sixth century, as were many other similar buildings in that country. Gobhan retired to a cell, the ruins of which are still to be seen, a mile west of Killala; and here also is to be seen the Stone intended to surmount and form the apex of the steeple. This beautiful steeple was struck by lightning in February 1800, attracted by the iron of a weathercock, the fluid entered at the top, and bursting out about the middle, left a hideous chasm, which, to the disgrace of the neighbourhood, is still unrepaired.
[3] Cummin, or Cumean Fin, according to Ware, was a native of Donegal, and abbot of Hy or Iona in Scotland in the 7th century, from whence he arrived in Ireland; he it was who caused the Western Church to adopt the Roman mode of fixing the celebration of Easter, as may appear from his Encyclical letter to the abbot of Hy. Ware is ignorant of the district in which Cumean presided, conjecturing it to have been in some part of the King's County. The cell of Kilcummin is unroofed, but otherwise pretty entire. Cumean is buried near it, and at his head was placed a square slab inscribed with the contracted Irish characters. This precious relic was removed some years ago, by a clergyman, not a native of that country—should this meet his eye, or that of his superior, the Right Rev. Doctor M'Hale, it is hoped they will restore it to where it is only of value; or publish a copy of a monument capable of deciding and elucidating a doubtful point, in the ecclesiastical antiquities of Ireland.
The French Invasion of Ireland in '98: Leaves of Unwritten History that tell of an Heroic Endeavor and a Lost Opportunity to throw off England's Yoke.
The full story of General Humbert's landing at Killala, County Mayo, in 1798, with a small expeditionary force of around 1000 French troops, designed to rally the Irish to further rebellion against the English.