AN ADVENTURE OF HARDRESS FITZGERALD, A ROYALIST CAPTAIN.
Being an Eleventh Extract from the Legacy of the late
Francis Purcell, P.P. of Drumcoolagh.
The following brief narrative
contains a faithful account of one
of the many strange incidents
which chequered the life of Hardress
Fitzgerald—one of the now-forgotten heroes
who flourished during the most stirring
and, though the most disastrous, by no
means the least glorious period of our
eventful history.
He was a captain of horse in the army
of James, and shared the fortunes of his
master, enduring privations, encountering
dangers, and submitting to vicissitudes the
most galling and ruinous, with a fortitude
and a heroism which would, if coupled
with his other virtues have rendered the
unhappy monarch whom he served,
the most illustrious among unfortunate
princes.
I have always preferred, where I could
do so with any approach to accuracy, to
give such relations as the one which I am
about to submit to you, in the first person,
and in the words of the original narrator,
believing that such a form of recitation
not only gives freshness to the tale, but
in this particular instance, by bringing
before me and steadily fixing in my mind’s
eye the veteran royalist who himself related
the occurrence which I am about to record,
furnishes an additional stimulant to my
memory, and a proportionate check upon
my imagination.
As nearly as I can recollect then, his
statement was as follows:
After the fatal battle of the Boyne, I
came up in disguise to Dublin, as did
many in a like situation, regarding the
capital as furnishing at once a good
central position of observation, and as
secure a lurking-place as I cared to
find.
I would not suffer myself to believe that
the cause of my royal master was so
desperate as it really was; and while I
lay in my lodgings, which consisted of
the garret of a small dark house, standing
in the lane which runs close by
Audoen’s Arch, I busied myself with
continual projects for the raising of the
country, and the re-collecting of the
fragments of the defeated army—plans, you
will allow, sufficiently magnificent for a
poor devil who dared scarce show his face
abroad in the daylight.
I believe, however, that I had not much
reason to fear for my personal safety, for
men’s minds in the city were greatly
occupied with public events, and private
amusements and debaucheries, which were,
about that time, carried to an excess which
our country never knew before, by reason
of the raking together from all quarters of
the empire, and indeed from most parts
of Holland, the most dissolute and desperate adventurers who cared to play at
hazard for their lives; and thus there
seemed to be but little scrutiny into
the characters of those who sought concealment.
I heard much at different times of the
intentions of King James and his party,
but nothing with certainty.
Some said that the king still lay in
Ireland; others, that he had crossed over
to Scotland, to encourage the Highlanders,
who, with Dundee at their head, had been
stirring in his behoof; others, again, said
that he had taken ship for France, leaving his
followers to shift for themselves, and
regarding his kingdom as wholly lost, which
last was the true version, as I afterwards
learned.
Although I had been very active in the
wars in Ireland, and had done many deeds
of necessary but dire severity, which have
often since troubled me much to think
upon, yet I doubted not but that I might
easily obtain protection for my person and
property from the Prince of Orange, if I
sought it by the ordinary submissions;
but besides that my conscience and my
affections resisted such time-serving
concessions, I was resolved in my own mind
that the cause of the royalist party was
by no means desperate, and I looked to
keep myself unimpeded by any pledge
or promise given to the usurping Dutchman,
that I might freely and honourably
take a share in any struggle which
might yet remain to be made for the
right.
I therefore lay quiet, going forth from
my lodgings but little, and that chiefly
under cover of the dusk, and conversing
hardly at all, except with those whom I
well knew.
I had like once to have paid dearly for
relaxing this caution; for going into
a tavern one evening near the Tholsel, I
had the confidence to throw off my hat,
and sit there with my face quite exposed,
when a fellow coming in with some
troopers, they fell a-boozing, and being
somewhat warmed, they began to drink
‘Confusion to popery,’ and the like, and
to compel the peaceable persons who
happened to sit there, to join them in so
doing.
Though I was rather hot-blooded, I
was resolved to say nothing to attract
notice; but, at the same time, if urged
to pledge the toasts which they were
compelling others to drink, to resist doing
so.
With the intent to withdraw myself
quietly from the place, I paid my reckoning,
and putting on my hat, was going
into the street, when the countryman who
had come in with the soldiers called
out:
‘Stop that popish tom-cat!’
And running across the room, he got
to the door before me, and, shutting it,
placed his back against it, to prevent my
going out.
Though with much difficulty, I kept
an appearance of quietness, and turning to
the fellow, who, from his accent, I judged
to be northern, and whose face I knew—
though, to this day, I cannot say where
I had seen him before—I observed very
calmly:
‘Sir, I came in here with no other
design than to refresh myself, without
offending any man. I have paid my
reckoning, and now desire to go forth. If
there is anything within reason that I can
do to satisfy you, and to prevent trouble
and delay to myself, name your terms, and
if they be but fair, I will frankly comply
with them.’
He quickly replied:
‘You are Hardress Fitzgerald, the
bloody popish captain, that hanged the
twelve men at Derry.’
I felt that I was in some danger, but
being a strong man, and used to perils
of all kinds, it was not easy to disconcert me.
I looked then steadily at the fellow,
and, in a voice of much confidence, I
said:
‘I am neither a Papist, a Royalist, nor
a Fitzgerald, but an honester Protestant,
mayhap, than many who make louder
professions.’
‘Then drink the honest man’s toast,’
said he. ‘Damnation to the pope, and
confusion to skulking Jimmy and his
runaway crew.’
‘Yourself shall hear me,’ said I, taking
the largest pewter pot that lay within my
reach. ‘Tapster, fill this with ale; I grieve
to say I can afford nothing better.’
I took the vessel of liquor in my hand,
and walking up to him, I first made a
bow to the troopers who sat laughing
at the sprightliness of their facetious
friend, and then another to himself,
when saying, ‘G— damn yourself and
your cause!’ I flung the ale straight into
his face; and before he had time to recover
himself, I struck him with my whole force
and weight with the pewter pot upon the
head, so strong a blow, that he fell, for
aught I know, dead upon the floor, and
nothing but the handle of the vessel
remained in my hand.
I opened the door, but one of the dragoons
drew his sabre, and ran at me to avenge
his companion. With my hand I put
aside the blade of the sword, narrowly
escaping what he had intended for me,
the point actually tearing open my vest.
Without allowing him time to repeat his
thrust, I struck him in the face with my
clenched fist so sound a blow that he
rolled back into the room with the force
of a tennis ball.
It was well for me that the rest were
half drunk, and the evening dark; for
otherwise my folly would infallibly have
cost me my life. As it was, I reached
my garret in safety, with a resolution
to frequent taverns no more until better
times.
My little patience and money were well-nigh exhausted, when, after much doubt
and uncertainty, and many conflicting
reports, I was assured that the flower
of the Royalist army, under the Duke of
Berwick and General Boisleau, occupied the
city of Limerick, with a determination
to hold that fortress against the prince’s
forces; and that a French fleet of great
power, and well freighted with arms,
ammunition, and men, was riding in the
Shannon, under the walls of the town.
But this last report was, like many others
then circulated, untrue; there being,
indeed, a promise and expectation of such
assistance, but no arrival of it till too
late.
The army of the Prince of Orange was
said to be rapidly approaching the town,
in order to commence the siege.
On hearing this, and being made as
certain as the vagueness and unsatisfactory
nature of my information, which came not
from any authentic source, would permit;
at least, being sure of the main point,
which all allowed—namely, that Limerick
was held for the king—and being also
naturally fond of enterprise, and impatient
of idleness, I took the resolution to travel
thither, and, if possible, to throw myself
into the city, in order to lend what assistance
I might to my former companions in
arms, well knowing that any man of strong
constitution and of some experience might
easily make himself useful to a garrison in
their straitened situation.
When I had taken this resolution, I was
not long in putting it into execution; and,
as the first step in the matter, I turned half
of the money which remained with me, in
all about seventeen pounds, into small wares
and merchandise such as travelling traders
used to deal in; and the rest, excepting some
shillings which I carried home for my
immediate expenses, I sewed carefully in the
lining of my breeches waistband, hoping that
the sale of my commodities might easily
supply me with subsistence upon the road.
I left Dublin upon a Friday morning in
the month of September, with a tolerably
heavy pack upon my back.
I was a strong man and a good walker,
and one day with another travelled easily at
the rate of twenty miles in each day, much
time being lost in the towns of any note on
the way, where, to avoid suspicion, I was
obliged to make some stay, as if to sell my
wares.
I did not travel directly to Limerick, but
turned far into Tipperary, going near to the
borders of Cork.
Upon the sixth day after my departure
from Dublin I learned, CERTAINLY, from some
fellows who were returning from trafficking
with the soldiers, that the army of the
prince was actually encamped before
Limerick, upon the south side of the
Shannon.
In order, then, to enter the city without
interruption, I must needs cross the river,
and I was much in doubt whether to do so
by boat from Kerry, which I might have
easily done, into the Earl of Clare’s land,
and thus into the beleaguered city, or to
take what seemed the easier way, one,
however, about which I had certain misgivings
—which, by the way, afterwards turned out
to be just enough. This way was to cross
the Shannon at O’Brien’s Bridge, or at
Killaloe, into the county of Clare.
I feared, however, that both these passes
were guarded by the prince’s forces, and
resolved, if such were the case, not to essay
to cross, for I was not fitted to sustain a
scrutiny, having about me, though pretty
safely secured, my commission from King
James—which, though a dangerous companion,
I would not have parted from but
with my life.
I settled, then, in my own mind, that if
the bridges were guarded I would walk as
far as Portumna, where I might cross,
though at a considerable sacrifice of time;
and, having determined upon this course, I
turned directly towards Killaloe.
I reached the foot of the mountain, or
rather high hill, called Keeper—which had
been pointed out to me as a landmark—
lying directly between me and Killaloe,
in the evening, and, having ascended some
way, the darkness and fog overtook me.
The evening was very chilly, and myself
weary, hungry, and much in need of sleep,
so that I preferred seeking to cross the hill,
though at some risk, to remaining upon it
throughout the night. Stumbling over
rocks and sinking into bog-mire, as the
nature of the ground varied, I slowly
and laboriously plodded on, making very
little way in proportion to the toil it cost
me.
After half an hour’s slow walking, or
rather rambling, for, owing to the dark, I
very soon lost my direction, I at last heard
the sound of running water, and with some
little trouble reached the edge of a brook,
which ran in the bottom of a deep gully.
This I knew would furnish a sure guide to
the low grounds, where I might promise
myself that I should speedily meet with
some house or cabin where I might find
shelter for the night.
The stream which I followed flowed at
the bottom of a rough and swampy glen,
very steep and making many abrupt turns,
and so dark, owing more to the fog than to
the want of the moon (for, though not high,
I believe it had risen at the time), that I
continually fell over fragments of rock and
stumbled up to my middle into the rivulet,
which I sought to follow.
In this way, drenched, weary, and with
my patience almost exhausted, I was toiling
onward, when, turning a sharp angle in the
winding glen, I found myself within some
twenty yards of a group of wild-looking
men, gathered in various attitudes round a
glowing turf fire.
I was so surprised at this rencontre that
I stopped short, and for a time was in
doubt whether to turn back or to accost
them.
A minute’s thought satisfied me that I
ought to make up to the fellows, and trust
to their good faith for whatever assistance
they could give me.
I determined, then, to do this, having
great faith in the impulses of my mind,
which, whenever I have been in jeopardy,
as in my life I often have, always prompted
me aright.
The strong red light of the fire showed
me plainly enough that the group consisted,
not of soldiers, but of Irish kernes, or
countrymen, most of them wrapped in
heavy mantles, and with no other covering
for their heads than that afforded by their
long, rough hair.
There was nothing about them which I
could see to intimate whether their object
were peaceful or warlike; but I afterwards
found that they had weapons enough,
though of their own rude fashion.
There were in all about twenty persons
assembled around the fire, some sitting
upon such blocks of stone as happened to
lie in the way; others stretched at their
length upon the ground.
‘God save you, boys!’ said I, advancing
towards the party.
The men who had been talking and
laughing together instantly paused, and
two of them—tall and powerful fellows—
snatched up each a weapon, something like
a short halberd with a massive iron head,
an instrument which they called among
themselves a rapp, and with two or three
long strides they came up with me, and
laying hold upon my arms, drew me, not,
you may easily believe, making much
resistance, towards the fire.
When I reached the place where the
figures were seated, the two men still held
me firmly, and some others threw some
handfuls of dry fuel upon the red embers,
which, blazing up, cast a strong light upon
me.
When they had satisfied themselves as
to my appearance, they began to question
me very closely as to my purpose in being
upon the hill at such an unseasonable hour,
asking me what was my occupation, where
I had been, and whither I was going.
These questions were put to me in
English by an old half-military looking
man, who translated into that language
the suggestions which his companions for
the most part threw out in Irish.
I did not choose to commit myself to
these fellows by telling them my real
character and purpose, and therefore I
represented myself as a poor travelling
chapman who had been at Cork, and was
seeking his way to Killaloe, in order to
cross over into Clare and thence to the
city of Galway.
My account did not seem fully to satisfy
the men.
I heard one fellow say in Irish, which
language I understood, ‘Maybe he is a
spy.’
They then whispered together for a
time, and the little man who was their
spokesman came over to me and said:
‘Do you know what we do with spies?
we knock their brains out, my friend.’
He then turned back to them with whom
he had been whispering, and talked in a
low tone again with them for a considerable
time.
I now felt very uncomfortable, not knowing
what these savages—for they appeared
nothing better—might design against me.
Twice or thrice I had serious thoughts
of breaking from them, but the two guards
who were placed upon me held me fast by
the arms; and even had I succeeded in
shaking them off, I should soon have been
overtaken, encumbered as I was with a
heavy pack, and wholly ignorant of the
lie of the ground; or else, if I were so
exceedingly lucky as to escape out of their
hands, I still had the chance of falling into
those of some other party of the same
kind.
I therefore patiently awaited the issue
of their deliberations, which I made no
doubt affected me nearly.
I turned to the men who held me, and
one after the other asked them, in their
own language, ‘Why they held me?’ adding,
‘I am but a poor pedlar, as you see.
I have neither money nor money’s worth,
for the sake of which you should do me
hurt. You may have my pack and all
that it contains, if you desire it—but do
not injure me.’
To all this they gave no answer, but
savagely desired me to hold my tongue.
I accordingly remained silent, determined,
if the worst came, to declare to the whole
party, who, I doubted not, were friendly,
as were all the Irish peasantry in the south,
to the Royal cause, my real character and
design; and if this avowal failed me, I was
resolved to make a desperate effort to
escape, or at least to give my life at the
dearest price I could.
I was not kept long in suspense, for
the little veteran who had spoken to me
at first came over, and desiring the two
men to bring me after him, led the way
along a broken path, which wound by
the side of the steep glen.
I was obliged willy nilly to go with
them, and, half-dragging and half-carrying
me, they brought me by the path, which now
became very steep, for some hundred yards
without stopping, when suddenly coming
to a stand, I found myself close before
the door of some house or hut, I could
not see which, through the planks of which
a strong light was streaming.
At this door my conductor stopped, and
tapping gently at it, it was opened by a
stout fellow, with buff-coat and jack-boots,
and pistols stuck in his belt, as also a
long cavalry sword by his side.
He spoke with my guide, and to my no
small satisfaction, in French, which
convinced me that he was one of the soldiers
whom Louis had sent to support our king,
and who were said to have arrived in
Limerick, though, as I observed above, not
with truth.
I was much assured by this circumstance,
and made no doubt but that I had fallen
in with one of those marauding parties of
native Irish, who, placing themselves under
the guidance of men of courage and
experience, had done much brave and essential
service to the cause of the king.
The soldier entered an inner door in the
apartment, which opening disclosed a rude,
dreary, and dilapidated room, with a low
plank ceiling, much discoloured by the
smoke which hung suspended in heavy
masses, descending within a few feet of the
ground, and completely obscuring the upper
regions of the chamber.
A large fire of turf and heath was
burning under a kind of rude chimney,
shaped like a large funnel, but by no means
discharging the functions for which it was
intended. Into this inauspicious apartment
was I conducted by my strange companions.
In the next room I heard voices employed,
as it seemed, in brief questioning and
answer; and in a minute the soldier reentered the room, and having said, ‘Votre
prisonnier—le general veut le voir,’ he led
the way into the inner room, which in point
of comfort and cleanliness was not a whit
better than the first.
Seated at a clumsy plank table, placed
about the middle of the floor, was a powerfully
built man, of almost colossal stature—
his military accoutrements, cuirass and rich
regimental clothes, soiled, deranged, and
spattered with recent hard travel; the
flowing wig, surmounted by the cocked hat
and plume, still rested upon his head. On
the table lay his sword-belt with its
appendage, and a pair of long holster pistols,
some papers, and pen and ink; also a
stone jug, and the fragments of a hasty
meal. His attitude betokened the languor
of fatigue. His left hand was buried beyond
the lace ruffle in the breast of his cassock,
and the elbow of his right rested upon the
table, so as to support his head. From
his mouth protruded a tobacco-pipe, which
as I entered he slowly withdrew.
A single glance at the honest, good-humoured, comely face of the soldier
satisfied me of his identity, and removing
my hat from my head I said, ‘God save
General Sarsfield!’
The general nodded
‘I am a prisoner here under strange
circumstances,’ I continued ‘I appear
before you in a strange disguise. You
do not recognise Captain Hardress Fitzgerald!’
‘Eh, how’s this?’ said he, approaching me
with the light.
‘I am that Hardress Fitzgerald,’ I
repeated, ‘who served under you at the
Boyne, and upon the day of the action had
the honour to protect your person at the
expense of his own.’ At the same time I
turned aside the hair which covered the
scar which you well know upon my
forehead, and which was then much more
remarkable than it is now.
The general on seeing this at once
recognised me, and embracing me cordially,
made me sit down, and while I unstrapped
my pack, a tedious job, my fingers being
nearly numbed with cold, sent the men
forth to procure me some provision.
The general’s horse was stabled in a
corner of the chamber where we sat, and
his war-saddle lay upon the floor. At the
far end of the room was a second door,
which stood half open; a bogwood fire
burned on a hearth somewhat less rude
than the one which I had first seen, but
still very little better appointed with a
chimney, for thick wreaths of smoke were
eddying, with every fitful gust, about the
room. Close by the fire was strewed a
bed of heath, intended, I supposed, for the
stalwart limbs of the general.
‘Hardress Fitzgerald,’ said he, fixing his
eyes gravely upon me, while he slowly
removed the tobacco-pipe from his mouth,
‘I remember you, strong, bold and cunning
in your warlike trade; the more desperate
an enterprise, the more ready for it, you.
I would gladly engage you, for I know
you trustworthy, to perform a piece of
duty requiring, it may be, no extraordinary
quality to fulfil; and yet perhaps, as
accidents may happen, demanding every
attribute of daring and dexterity which
belongs to you.’
Here he paused for some moments.
I own I felt somewhat flattered by the
terms in which he spoke of me, knowing
him to be but little given to compliments;
and not having any plan in my head,
farther than the rendering what service I
might to the cause of the king, caring very
little as to the road in which my duty
might lie, I frankly replied:
‘Sir, I hope, if opportunity offers, I
shall prove to deserve the honourable
terms in which you are pleased to speak
of me. In a righteous cause I fear not
wounds or death; and in discharging my
duty to my God and my king, I am
ready for any hazard or any fate. Name
the service you require, and if it lies within
the compass of my wit or power, I will
fully and faithfully perform it. Have I said
enough?’
‘That is well, very well, my friend;
you speak well, and manfully,’ replied the
general. ‘I want you to convey to the
hands of General Boisleau, now in the
city of Limerick, a small written packet;
there is some danger, mark me, of your
falling in with some outpost or straggling
party of the prince’s army. If you are
taken unawares by any of the enemy you
must dispose of the packet inside your
person, rather than let it fall into their
hands—that is, you must eat it. And if
they go to question you with thumb-screws, or the like, answer nothing; let
them knock your brains out first.’ In
illustration, I suppose, of the latter
alternative, he knocked the ashes out of his pipe
upon the table as he uttered it.
‘The packet,’ he continued, ‘you shall
have to-morrow morning. Meantime comfort
yourself with food, and afterwards with
sleep; you will want, mayhap, all your
strength and wits on the morrow.’
I applied myself forthwith to the homely
fare which they had provided, and I confess
that I never made a meal so heartily to
my satisfaction.
It was a beautiful, clear, autumn morning,
and the bright beams of the early sun were
slanting over the brown heath which
clothed the sides of the mountain, and
glittering in the thousand bright drops
which the melting hoar-frost had left behind
it, and the white mists were lying like
broad lakes in the valleys, when, with my
pedlar’s pack upon my back, and General
Sarsfield’s precious despatch in my bosom,
I set forth, refreshed and courageous.
As I descended the hill, my heart
expanded and my spirits rose under the
influences which surrounded me. The keen,
clear, bracing air of the morning, the bright,
slanting sunshine, the merry songs of the
small birds, and the distant sounds of
awakening labour that floated up from the
plains, all conspired to stir my heart within
me, and more like a mad-cap boy, broken
loose from school, than a man of sober
years upon a mission of doubt and danger,
I trod lightly on, whistling and singing
alternately for very joy.
As I approached the object of my early
march, I fell in with a countryman, eager,
as are most of his kind, for news.
I gave him what little I had collected,
and professing great zeal for the king,
which, indeed, I always cherished, I won
upon his confidence so far, that he became
much more communicative than the
peasantry in those quarters are generally
wont to be to strangers.
From him I learned that there was a
company of dragoons in William’s service,
quartered at Willaloe; but he could not
tell whether the passage of the bridge
was stopped by them or not. With a
resolution, at all events, to make the
attempt to cross, I approached the town.
When I came within sight of the river,
I quickly perceived that it was so swollen
with the recent rains, as, indeed, the
countryman had told me, that the fords
were wholly impassable.
I stopped then, upon a slight eminence
overlooking the village, with a view to
reconnoitre and to arrange my plans in
case of interruption. While thus engaged,
the wind blowing gently from the west,
in which quarter Limerick lay, I distinctly
heard the explosion of the cannon, which
played from and against the city, though
at a distance of eleven miles at the
least.
I never yet heard the music that had
for me half the attractions of that sullen
sound, and as I noted again and again
the distant thunder that proclaimed the
perils, and the valour, and the faithfulness
of my brethren, my heart swelled with
pride, and the tears rose to my eyes; and
lifting up my hands to heaven, I prayed
to God that I might be spared to take
a part in the righteous quarrel that was
there so bravely maintained.
I felt, indeed, at this moment a longing,
more intense than I have the power to
describe, to be at once with my brave
companions in arms, and so inwardly
excited and stirred up as if I had been
actually within five minutes’ march of
the field of battle.
It was now almost noon, and I had
walked hard since morning across a
difficult and broken country, so that I
was a little fatigued, and in no small
degree hungry. As I approached the
hamlet, I was glad to see in the window
of a poor hovel several large cakes of
meal displayed, as if to induce purchasers
to enter.
I was right in regarding this exhibition as an intimation that entertainment
might be procured within,
for upon entering and inquiring, I was
speedily invited by the poor woman,
who, it appeared, kept this humble house
of refreshment, to lay down my pack and
seat myself by a ponderous table, upon
which she promised to serve me with a
dinner fit for a king; and indeed, to my
mind, she amply fulfilled her engagement,
supplying me abundantly with eggs,
bacon, and wheaten cakes, which I
discussed with a zeal which almost surprised
myself.
Having disposed of the solid part of
my entertainment, I was proceeding to
regale myself with a brimming measure
of strong waters, when my attention was
arrested by the sound of horses’ hoofs in
brisk motion upon the broken road, and
evidently approaching the hovel in which
I was at that moment seated.
The ominous clank of sword scabbards
and the jingle of brass accoutrements
announced, unequivocally, that the horsemen
were of the military profession.
‘The red-coats will stop here
undoubtedly,’ said the old woman, observing,
I suppose, the anxiety of my countenance;
‘they never pass us without
coming in for half an hour to drink or
smoke. If you desire to avoid them, I
can hide you safely; but don’t lose a
moment. They will be here before you can
count a hundred.’
I thanked the good woman for her
hospitable zeal; but I felt a repugnance
to concealing myself as she suggested,
which was enhanced by the consciousness
that if by any accident I were detected while lurking in the room, my
situation would of itself inevitably lead
to suspicions, and probably to discovery.
I therefore declined her offer, and
awaited in suspense the entrance of the
soldiers.
I had time before they made their
appearance to move my seat hurriedly
from the table to the hearth, where,
under the shade of the large chimney,
I might observe the coming visitors with
less chance of being myself remarked upon.
As my hostess had anticipated, the
horsemen drew up at the door of the hut, and
five dragoons entered the dark chamber
where I awaited them.
Leaving their horses at the entrance,
with much noise and clatter they proceeded
to seat themselves and call for
liquor.
Three of these fellows were Dutchmen,
and, indeed, all belonged, as I afterwards
found, to a Dutch regiment, which had
been recruited with Irish and English,
as also partly officered from the same
nations.
Being supplied with pipes and drink
they soon became merry; and not suffering
their smoking to interfere with their
conversation, they talked loud and quickly,
for the most part in a sort of barbarous
language, neither Dutch nor English, but
compounded of both.
They were so occupied with their own
jocularity that I had very great hopes
of escaping observation altogether, and
remained quietly seated in a corner of the
chimney, leaning back upon my seat as if
asleep.
My taciturnity and quiescence, however,
did not avail me, for one of these fellows
coming over to the hearth to light his pipe,
perceived me, and looking me very hard in
the face, he said:
‘What countryman are you, brother, that
you sit with a covered head in the room
with the prince’s soldiers?’
At the same time he tossed my hat off
my head into the fire. I was not fool
enough, though somewhat hot-blooded,
to suffer the insolence of this fellow to
involve me in a broil so dangerous to
my person and ruinous to my schemes
as a riot with these soldiers must prove.
I therefore, quietly taking up my hat and
shaking the ashes out of it, observed:
‘Sir, I crave your pardon if I have
offended you. I am a stranger in these
quarters, and a poor, ignorant, humble
man, desiring only to drive my little trade
in peace, so far as that may be done in these
troublous times.’
‘And what may your trade be?’ said
the same fellow.
‘I am a travelling merchant,’ I replied;
‘and sell my wares as cheap as any trader
in the country.’
‘Let us see them forthwith,’ said he;
‘mayhap I or my comrades may want
something which you can supply. Where
is thy chest, friend? Thou shalt have
ready money’ (winking at his companions),
‘ready money, and good weight, and sound
metal; none of your rascally pinchbeck.
Eh, my lads? Bring forth the goods, and
let us see.’
Thus urged, I should have betrayed
myself had I hesitated to do as required;
and anxious, upon any terms, to quiet these
turbulent men of war, I unbuckled my
pack and exhibited its contents upon the
table before them.
‘A pair of lace ruffles, by the Lord!’
said one, unceremoniously seizing upon the
articles he named.
‘A phial of perfume,’ continued another,
tumbling over the farrago which I had
submitted to them, ‘wash-balls, combs,
stationery, slippers, small knives, tobacco;
by ——, this merchant is a prize! Mark
me, honest fellow, the man who wrongs
thee shall suffer—’fore Gad he shall; thou
shalt be fairly dealt with’ (this he said
while in the act of pocketing a small silver
tobacco-box, the most valuable article in
the lot). ‘You shall come with me to
head-quarters; the captain will deal with
you, and never haggle about the price.
I promise thee his good will, and thou
wilt consider me accordingly. You’ll find
him a profitable customer—he has money
without end, and throws it about like a
gentleman. If so be as I tell thee, I shall
expect, and my comrades here, a piece or
two in the way of a compliment—but of
this anon. Come, then, with us; buckle
on thy pack quickly, friend.’
There was no use in my declaring my
willingness to deal with themselves in
preference to their master; it was clear that
they had resolved that I should, in the
most expeditious and advantageous way,
turn my goods into money, that they might
excise upon me to the amount of their
wishes.
The worthy who had taken a lead in
these arrangements, and who by his stripes
I perceived to be a corporal, having
insisted on my taking a dram with him to
cement our newly-formed friendship, for
which, however, he requested me to pay,
made me mount behind one of his comrades;
and the party, of which I thus
formed an unwilling member, moved at a
slow trot towards the quarters of the
troop.
They reined up their horses at the head
of the long bridge, which at this village
spans the broad waters of the Shannon
connecting the opposite counties of
Tipperary and Clare.
A small tower, built originally, no doubt,
to protect and to defend this pass, occupied
the near extremity of the bridge, and in
its rear, but connected with it, stood several
straggling buildings rather dilapidated.
A dismounted trooper kept guard at the
door, and my conductor having, dismounted,
as also the corporal, the latter inquired:
‘Is the captain in his quarters?’
‘He is,’ replied the sentinel.
And without more ado my companion
shoved me into the entrance of the small
dark tower, and opening a door at the
extremity of the narrow chamber into which
we had passed from the street, we entered
a second room in which were seated some
half-dozen officers of various ranks and
ages, engaged in drinking, and smoking,
and play.
I glanced rapidly from man to man, and
was nearly satisfied by my inspection, when
one of the gentlemen whose back had been
turned towards the place where I stood,
suddenly changed his position and looked
towards me.
As soon as I saw his face my heart
sank within me, and I knew that my life
or death was balanced, as it were, upon a
razor’s edge.
The name of this man whose unexpected
appearance thus affected me was Hugh
Oliver, and good and strong reason had I
to dread him, for so bitterly did he hate
me, that to this moment I do verily believe
he would have compassed my death if it
lay in his power to do so, even at the
hazard of his own life and soul, for I had
been—though God knows with many sore
strugglings and at the stern call of public
duty—the judge and condemner of his
brother; and though the military law,
which I was called upon to administer,
would permit no other course or sentence
than the bloody one which I was compelled
to pursue, yet even to this hour the
recollection of that deed is heavy at my
breast.
As soon as I saw this man I felt that
my safety depended upon the accident of
his not recognising me through the disguise
which I had assumed, an accident against
which were many chances, for he well knew
my person and appearance.
It was too late now to destroy General
Sarsfield’s instructions; any attempt to
do so would ensure detection. All then
depended upon a cast of the die.
When the first moment of dismay and
heart-sickening agitation had passed, it
seemed to me as if my mind acquired a
collectedness and clearness more complete
and intense than I had ever experienced
before.
I instantly perceived that he did not
know me, for turning from me to the
soldier with all air of indifference, he said,
‘Is this a prisoner or a deserter? What
have you brought him here for, sirra?’
‘Your wisdom will regard him as you
see fit, may it please you,’ said the corporal.
‘The man is a travelling merchant, and,
overtaking him upon the road, close by old
Dame MacDonagh’s cot, I thought I might
as well make a sort of prisoner of him
that your honour might use him as it might
appear most convenient; he has many
commododies which are not unworthy of
price in this wilderness, and some which
you may condescend to make use of yourself.
May he exhibit the goods he has
for sale, an’t please you?’
‘Ay, let us see them,’ said he.
‘Unbuckle your pack,’ exclaimed the
corporal, with the same tone of command
with which, at the head of his guard,
he would have said ‘Recover your arms.’
‘Unbuckle your pack, fellow, and show
your goods to the captain—here, where
you are.’
The conclusion of his directions was
suggested by my endeavouring to move
round in order to get my back towards
the windows, hoping, by keeping my face
in the shade, to escape detection.
In this manoeuvre, however, I was
foiled by the imperiousness of the soldier;
and inwardly cursing his ill-timed
interference, I proceeded to present my
merchandise to the loving contemplation of
the officers who thronged around me,
with a strong light from an opposite
window full upon my face.
As I continued to traffic with these
gentlemen, I observed with no small
anxiety the eyes of Captain Oliver frequently
fixed upon me with a kind of
dubious inquiring gaze.
‘I think, my honest fellow,’ he said
at last, ‘that I have seen you somewhere
before this. Have you often dealt with
the military?’
‘I have traded, sir,’ said I, ‘with the
soldiery many a time, and always been
honourably treated. Will your worship
please to buy a pair of lace ruffles?—very
cheap, your worship.’
‘Why do you wear your hair so much
over your face, sir?’ said Oliver, without
noticing my suggestion. ‘I promise you,
I think no good of thee; throw back your
hair, and let me see thee plainly. Hold
up your face, and look straight at me;
throw back your hair, sir.’
I felt that all chance of escape was at
an end; and stepping forward as near as
the table would allow me to him, I raised
my head, threw back my hair, and fixed
my eyes sternly and boldly upon his
face.
I saw that he knew me instantly, for
his countenance turned as pale as ashes
with surprise and hatred. He started up,
placing his hand instinctively upon his
sword-hilt, and glaring at me with a look
so deadly, that I thought every moment he
would strike his sword into my heart.
He said in a kind of whisper: ‘Hardress
Fitzgerald?’
‘Yes;’ said I, boldly, for the excitement
of the scene had effectually stirred my
blood, ‘Hardress Fitzgerald is before you.
I know you well, Captain Oliver. I know
how you hate me. I know how you thirst
for my blood; but in a good cause, and
in the hands of God, I defy you.’
‘You are a desperate villain, sir,’ said
Captain Oliver; ‘a rebel and a murderer!
Holloa, there! guard, seize him!’
As the soldiers entered, I threw my
eyes hastily round the room, and observing
a glowing fire upon the hearth, I suddenly
drew General Sarsfield’s packet from my
bosom, and casting it upon the embers,
planted my foot upon it.
‘Secure the papers!’ shouted the captain;
and almost instantly I was laid prostrate
and senseless upon the floor, by a blow
from the butt of a carbine.
I cannot say how long I continued in
a state of torpor; but at length, having
slowly recovered my senses, I found myself
lying firmly handcuffed upon the floor of
a small chamber, through a narrow loop-hole in one of whose walls the evening
sun was shining. I was chilled with
cold and damp, and drenched in blood,
which had flowed in large quantities from
the wound on my head. By a strong
effort I shook off the sick drowsiness which
still hung upon me, and, weak and giddy,
I rose with pain and difficulty to my
feet.
The chamber, or rather cell, in which
I stood was about eight feet square, and
of a height very disproportioned to its
other dimensions; its altitude from the
floor to the ceiling being not less than
twelve or fourteen feet. A narrow slit
placed high in the wall admitted a scanty
light, but sufficient to assure me that my
prison contained nothing to render the
sojourn of its tenant a whit less comfortless
than my worst enemy could have
wished.
My first impulse was naturally to
examine the security of the door, the
loop-hole which I have mentioned being
too high and too narrow to afford a chance
of escape. I listened attentively to ascertain if possible whether or not a guard had
been placed upon the outside.
Not a sound was to be heard. I now
placed my shoulder to the door, and sought
with all my combined strength and weight
to force it open. It, however, resisted all
my efforts, and thus baffled in my appeal to
mere animal power, exhausted and
disheartened, I threw myself on the
ground.
It was not in my nature, however, long
to submit to the apathy of despair, and in
a few minutes I was on my feet again.
With patient scrutiny I endeavoured to
ascertain the nature of the fastenings which
secured the door.
The planks, fortunately, having been
nailed together fresh, had shrunk considerably,
so as to leave wide chinks between
each and its neighbour.
By means of these apertures I saw that
my dungeon was secured, not by a lock, as
I had feared, but by a strong wooden bar,
running horizontally across the door, about
midway upon the outside.
‘Now,’ thought I, ‘if I can but slip
my fingers through the opening of the
planks, I can easily remove the bar, and
then—’
My attempts, however, were all
frustrated by the manner in which my hands
were fastened together, each embarrassing
the other, and rendering my efforts so
hopelessly clumsy, that I was obliged to give
them over in despair.
I turned with a sigh from my last hope,
and began to pace my narrow prison floor,
when my eye suddenly encountered an
old rusty nail or holdfast sticking in the
wall.
All the gold of Plutus would not have
been so welcome as that rusty piece of
iron.
I instantly wrung it from the wall, and
inserting the point between the planks of
the door into the bolt, and working it
backwards and forwards, I had at length the
unspeakable satisfaction to perceive that
the beam was actually yielding to my
efforts, and gradually sliding into its berth
in the wall.
I have often been engaged in struggles
where great bodily strength was required,
and every thew and sinew in the system
taxed to the uttermost; but, strange as it
may appear, I never was so completely
exhausted and overcome by any labour as
by this comparatively trifling task.
Again and again was I obliged to desist,
until my cramped finger-joints recovered
their power; but at length my perseverance
was rewarded, for, little by little, I
succeeded in removing the bolt so far as to
allow the door to open sufficiently to permit
me to pass.
With some squeezing I succeeded in forcing
my way into a small passage, upon
which my prison-door opened.
This led into a chamber somewhat more
spacious than my cell, but still containing
no furniture, and affording no means of
escape to one so crippled with bonds as I
was.
At the far extremity of this room was a
door which stood ajar, and, stealthily
passing through it, I found myself in a room
containing nothing but a few raw hides,
which rendered the atmosphere nearly intolerable.
Here I checked myself, for I heard
voices in busy conversation in the next
room.
I stole softly to the door which
separated the chamber in which I stood
from that from which the voices proceeded.
A moment served to convince me that
any attempt upon it would be worse than
fruitless, for it was secured upon the
outside by a strong lock, besides two bars, all
which I was enabled to ascertain by means
of the same defect in the joining of the
planks which I have mentioned as belonging
to the inner door.
I had approached this door very softly,
so that, my proximity being wholly
unsuspected by the speakers within, the
conversation continued without interruption.
Planting myself close to the door, I
applied my eye to one of the chinks which
separated the boards, and thus obtained
a full view of the chamber and its occupants.
It was the very apartment into which I
had been first conducted. The outer door,
which faced the one at which I stood, was
closed, and at a small table were seated the
only tenants of the room—two officers, one
of whom was Captain Oliver. The latter
was reading a paper, which I made no doubt
was the document with which I had been
entrusted.
‘The fellow deserves it, no doubt’
said the junior officer. ‘But, me-thinks, considering our orders from
head-quarters, you deal somewhat too
hastily.’
‘Nephew, nephew,’ said Captain Oliver,
‘you mistake the tenor of our orders. We
were directed to conciliate the peasantry by
fair and gentle treatment, but not to suffer
spies and traitors to escape. This packet is
of some value, though not, in all its parts,
intelligible to me. The bearer has made
his way hither under a disguise, which,
along with the other circumstances of his
appearance here, is sufficient to convict him
as a spy.’
There was a pause here, and after a few
minutes the younger officer said:
‘Spy is a hard term, no doubt, uncle;
but it is possible—nay, likely, that this poor
devil sought merely to carry the parcel
with which he was charged in safety to
its destination. Pshaw! he is sufficiently
punished if you duck him, for ten minutes
or so, between the bridge and the mill-dam.’
‘Young man,’ said Oliver, somewhat
sternly, ‘do not obtrude your advice where
it is not called for; this man, for whom
you plead, murdered your own father!’
I could not see how this announcement
affected the person to whom it was
addressed, for his back was towards me; but
I conjectured, easily, that my last poor
chance was gone, for a long silence ensued.
Captain Oliver at length resumed:
‘I know the villain well. I know him
capable of any crime; but, by ——, his last
card is played, and the game is up. He
shall not see the moon rise to-night.’
There was here another pause.
Oliver rose, and going to the outer door,
called:
‘Hewson! Hewson!’
A grim-looking corporal entered.
‘Hewson, have your guard ready at
eight o’clock, with their carbines clean, and
a round of ball-cartridge each. Keep them
sober; and, further, plant two upright
posts at the near end of the bridge, with a
cross one at top, in the manner of a gibbet.
See to these matters, Hewson: I shall be
with you speedily.’
The corporal made his salutations, and
retired.
Oliver deliberately folded up the papers
with which I had been commissioned, and
placing them in the pocket of his vest, he
said:
‘Cunning, cunning Master Hardress
Fitzgerald hath made a false step; the old
fox is in the toils. Hardress Fitzgerald,
Hardress Fitzgerald, I will blot you out.’
He repeated these words several times,
at the same time rubbing his finger strongly
upon the table, as if he sought to erase a
stain:
‘I WILL BLOT YOU OUT!’
There was a kind of glee in his manner
and expression which chilled my very heart.
‘You shall be first shot like a dog, and
then hanged like a dog: shot to-night,
and hung to-morrow; hung at the bridge-head—hung, until your bones drop
asunder!’
It is impossible to describe the exultation
with which he seemed to dwell upon, and
to particularise the fate which he intended
for me.
I observed, however, that his face was
deadly pale, and felt assured that his
conscience and inward convictions were
struggling against his cruel resolve. Without
further comment the two officers left
the room, I suppose to oversee the preparations
which were being made for the deed
of which I was to be the victim.
A chill, sick horror crept over me as
they retired, and I felt, for the moment,
upon the brink of swooning. This feeling,
however, speedily gave place to a sensation
still more terrible. A state of excitement so
intense and tremendous as to border upon
literal madness, supervened; my brain
reeled and throbbed as if it would burst;
thoughts the wildest and the most hideous
flashed through my mind with a spontaneous
rapidity that scared my very soul;
while, all the time, I felt a strange and
frightful impulse to burst into uncontrolled
laughter.
Gradually this fearful paroxysm passed
away. I kneeled and prayed fervently, and
felt comforted and assured; but still I
could not view the slow approaches of
certain death without an agitation little
short of agony.
I have stood in battle many a time when
the chances of escape were fearfully small.
I have confronted foemen in the deadly
breach. I have marched, with a constant
heart, against the cannon’s mouth. Again
and again has the beast which I bestrode
been shot under me; again and again have
I seen the comrades who walked beside me
in an instant laid for ever in the dust;
again and again have I been in the thick
of battle, and of its mortal dangers, and
never felt my heart shake, or a single nerve
tremble: but now, helpless, manacled,
imprisoned, doomed, forced to watch the
approaches of an inevitable fate—to wait,
silent and moveless, while death as it were
crept towards me, human nature was
taxed to the uttermost to bear the horrible
situation.
I returned again to the closet in which
I had found myself upon recovering from
the swoon.
The evening sunshine and twilight was
fast melting into darkness, when I heard
the outer door, that which communicated
with the guard-room in which the officers
had been amusing themselves, opened and
locked again upon the inside.
A measured step then approached, and
the door of the wretched cell in which I
lay being rudely pushed open, a soldier
entered, who carried something in his hand;
but, owing to the obscurity of the place,
I could not see what.
‘Art thou awake, fellow?’ said he,
in a gruff voice. ‘Stir thyself; get upon
thy legs.’
His orders were enforced by no very
gentle application of his military boot.
‘Friend,’ said I, rising with difficulty,
‘you need not insult a dying man. You
have been sent hither to conduct me to
death. Lead on! My trust is in God,
that He will forgive me my sins, and
receive my soul, redeemed by the blood
of His Son.’
There here intervened a pause of some
length, at the end of which the soldier
said, in the same gruff voice, but in a
lower key:
‘Look ye, comrade, it will be your own
fault if you die this night. On one
condition I promise to get you out of this
hobble with a whole skin; but if you go
to any of your d——d gammon, by G—,
before two hours are passed, you will have
as many holes in your carcase as a target.’
‘Name your conditions,’ said I, ‘and
if they consist with honour, I will never
balk at the offer.’
‘Here they are: you are to be shot
to-night, by Captain Oliver’s orders. The
carbines are cleaned for the job, and the
cartridges served out to the men. By
G—, I tell you the truth!’
Of this I needed not much persuasion,
and intimated to the man my conviction
that he spoke the truth.
‘Well, then,’ he continued, ‘now for the
means of avoiding this ugly business.
Captain Oliver rides this night to head-quarters,
with the papers which you carried. Before
he starts he will pay you a visit, to fish
what he can out of you with all the fine
promises he can make. Humour him a
little, and when you find an opportunity,
stab him in the throat above the
cuirass.’
‘A feasible plan, surely,’ said I, raising
my shackled hands, ‘for a man thus
completely crippled and without a
weapon.’
‘I will manage all that presently for
you,’ said the soldier. ‘When you have
thus dealt with him, take his cloak and
hat, and so forth, and put them on; the
papers you will find in the pocket of
his vest, in a red leather case. Walk
boldly out. I am appointed to ride with
Captain Oliver, and you will find me
holding his horse and my own by the door.
Mount quickly, and I will do the same,
and then we will ride for our lives across
the bridge. You will find the holster-pistols loaded in case of pursuit; and, with
the devil’s help, we shall reach Limerick
without a hair hurt. My only condition
is, that when you strike Oliver, you
strike home, and again and again, until
he is FINISHED; and I trust to your honour
to remember me when we reach the
town.’
I cannot say whether I resolved right
or wrong, but I thought my situation,
and the conduct of Captain Oliver,
warranted me in acceding to the conditions
propounded by my visitant, and with
alacrity I told him so, and desired him to
give me the power, as he had promised
to do, of executing them.
With speed and promptitude he drew
a small key from his pocket, and in an
instant the manacles were removed from
my hands.
How my heart bounded within me
as my wrists were released from the
iron gripe of the shackles! The first step
toward freedom was made—my self-reliance returned, and I felt assured of
success.
‘Now for the weapon,’ said I.
‘I fear me, you will find it rather
clumsy,’ said he; ‘but if well handled,
it will do as well as the best Toledo.
It is the only thing I could get, but I
sharpened it myself; it has an edge like
a skean.’
He placed in my hand the steel head
of a halberd. Grasping it firmly, I found
that it made by no means a bad weapon
in point of convenience; for it felt in
the hand like a heavy dagger, the portion
which formed the blade or point being
crossed nearly at the lower extremity by
a small bar of metal, at one side shaped
into the form of an axe, and at the other
into that of a hook. These two transverse
appendages being muffled by the folds of
my cravat, which I removed for the purpose,
formed a perfect guard or hilt, and
the lower extremity formed like a tube, in
which the pike-handle had been inserted,
afforded ample space for the grasp of my
hand; the point had been made as sharp
as a needle, and the metal he assured me
was good.
Thus equipped he left me, having
observed, ‘The captain sent me to bring you
to your senses, and give you some water
that he might find you proper for his
visit. Here is the pitcher; I think I have
revived you sufficiently for the captain’s
purpose.’
With a low savage laugh he left me to
my reflections.
Having examined and adjusted the
weapon, I carefully bound the ends of the
cravat, with which I had secured the cross
part of the spear-head, firmly round my
wrist, so that in case of a struggle it might
not easily be forced from my hand; and
having made these precautionary dispositions,
I sat down upon the ground with
my back against the wall, and my hands
together under my coat, awaiting my
visitor.
The time wore slowly on; the dusk
became dimmer and dimmer, until it nearly
bordered on total darkness.
‘How’s this?’ said I, inwardly;
‘Captain Oliver, you said I should not see the
moon rise to-night. Methinks you are
somewhat tardy in fulfilling your prophecy.’
As I made this reflection, a noise at the
outer door announced the entrance of a
visitant. I knew that the decisive moment
was come, and letting my head sink upon
my breast, and assuring myself that my
hands were concealed, I waited, in the attitude of deep dejection, the approach of
my foe and betrayer.
As I had expected, Captain Oliver
entered the room where I lay. He was
equipped for instant duty, as far as the
imperfect twilight would allow me to see;
the long sword clanked upon the floor as
he made his way through the lobbies which
led to my place of confinement; his ample
military cloak hung upon his arm; his
cocked hat was upon his head, and in all
points he was prepared for the road.
This tallied exactly with what my
strange informant had told me.
I felt my heart swell and my breath come
thick as the awful moment which was to
witness the death-struggle of one or other
of us approached.
Captain Oliver stood within a yard or
two of the place where I sat, or rather lay;
and folding his arms, he remained silent
for a minute or two, as if arranging in
his mind how he should address me.
‘Hardress Fitzgerald,’ he began at length,
‘are you awake? Stand up, if you desire
to hear of matters nearly touching your
life or death. Get up, I say.’
I arose doggedly, and affecting the
awkward movements of one whose hands were
bound,
‘Well,’ said I, ‘what would you of me?
Is it not enough that I am thus imprisoned
without a cause, and about, as I suspect,
to suffer a most unjust and violent sentence,
but must I also be disturbed during
the few moments left me for reflection and
repentance by the presence of my persecutor?
What do you want of me?’
‘As to your punishment, sir,’ said he,
‘your own deserts have no doubt suggested the likelihood of it to your mind;
but I now am with you to let you know
that whatever mitigation of your sentence
you may look for, must be earned by your
compliance with my orders. You must
frankly and fully explain the contents of
the packet which you endeavoured this
day to destroy; and further, you must
tell all that you know of the designs of
the popish rebels.’
‘And if I do this I am to expect a
mitigation of my punishment—is it not
so?’
Oliver bowed.
‘And what IS this mitigation to be?
On the honour of a soldier, what is it to
be?’ inquired I.
‘When you have made the disclosure
required,’ he replied, ‘you shall hear. ‘Tis
then time to talk of indulgences.’
‘Methinks it would then be too late,’
answered I. ‘But a chance is a chance,
and a drowning man will catch at a straw.
You are an honourable man, Captain Oliver.
I must depend, I suppose, on your good
faith. Well, sir, before I make the desired
communication I have one question more
to put. What is to befall me in case that
I, remembering the honour of a soldier
and a gentleman, reject your infamous
terms, scorn your mitigations, and defy
your utmost power?’
‘In that case,’ replied he, coolly, ‘before
half an hour you shall be a corpse.’
‘Then God have mercy on your soul!’
said I; and springing forward, I dashed the
weapon which I held at his throat.
I missed my aim, but struck him full
in the mouth with such force that most
of his front teeth were dislodged, and the
point of the spear-head passed out under
his jaw, at the ear.
My onset was so sudden and unexpected
that he reeled back to the wall, and did
not recover his equilibrium in time to
prevent my dealing a second blow, which I
did with my whole force. The point
unfortunately struck the cuirass, near the
neck, and glancing aside it inflicted but a
flesh wound, tearing the skin and tendons
along the throat.
He now grappled with me, strange to
say, without uttering any cry of alarm;
being a very powerful man, and if anything
rather heavier and more strongly
built than I, he succeeded in drawing me
with him to the ground. We fell together
with a heavy crash, tugging and straining
in what we were both conscious was a
mortal struggle. At length I succeeded
in getting over him, and struck him twice
more in the face; still he struggled with
an energy which nothing but the tremendous
stake at issue could have sustained.
I succeeded again in inflicting several
more wounds upon him, any one of which
might have been mortal. While thus
contending he clutched his hands about
my throat, so firmly that I felt the blood
swelling the veins of my temples and face
almost to bursting. Again and again I
struck the weapon deep into his face and
throat, but life seemed to adhere in him
with an almost INSECT tenacity.
My sight now nearly failed, my senses
almost forsook me; I felt upon the point
of suffocation when, with one desperate
effort, I struck him another and a last blow
in the face. The weapon which I wielded
had lighted upon the eye, and the point
penetrated the brain; the body quivered
under me, the deadly grasp relaxed, and
Oliver lay upon the ground a corpse!
As I arose and shook the weapon and
the bloody cloth from my hand, the moon
which he had foretold I should never see
rise, shone bright and broad into the room,
and disclosed, with ghastly distinctness,
the mangled features of the dead soldier;
the mouth, full of clotting blood and broken
teeth, lay open; the eye, close by whose
lid the fatal wound had been inflicted, was
not, as might have been expected, bathed
in blood, but had started forth nearly from
the socket, and gave to the face, by its
fearful unlikeness to the other glazing
orb, a leer more hideous and unearthly
than fancy ever saw. The wig, with all
its rich curls, had fallen with the hat to
the floor, leaving the shorn head exposed,
and in many places marked by the recent
struggle; the rich lace cravat was drenched
in blood, and the gay uniform in many
places soiled with the same.
It is hard to say, with what feelings I
looked upon the unsightly and revolting
mass which had so lately been a living
and a comely man. I had not any time,
however, to spare for reflection; the deed
was done—the responsibility was upon me,
and all was registered in the book of that
God who judges rightly.
With eager haste I removed from the
body such of the military accoutrements
as were necessary for the purpose of my
disguise. I buckled on the sword, drew
off the military boots, and donned them
myself, placed the brigadier wig and
cocked hat upon my head, threw on the
cloak, drew it up about my face, and
proceeded, with the papers which I found
as the soldier had foretold me, and the
key of the outer lobby, to the door of the
guard-room; this I opened, and with a
firm and rapid tread walked through the
officers, who rose as I entered, and passed
without question or interruption to the
street-door. Here I was met by the grim-looking corporal, Hewson, who, saluting
me, said:
‘How soon, captain, shall the file be
drawn out and the prisoner despatched?’
‘In half an hour,’ I replied, without
raising my voice.
The man again saluted, and in two
steps I reached the soldier who held
the two horses, as he had intimated.
‘Is all right?’ said he, eagerly.
‘Ay,’ said I, ‘which horse am I to
mount?’
He satisfied me upon this point, and I
threw myself into the saddle; the soldier
mounted his horse, and dashing the spurs
into the flanks of the animal which I
bestrode, we thundered along the narrow
bridge. At the far extremity a sentinel, as
we approached, called out, ‘Who goes there?
stand, and give the word!’ Heedless of the
interruption, with my heart bounding with
excitement, I dashed on, as did also the
soldier who accompanied me.
‘Stand, or I fire! give the word!’ cried
the sentry.
‘God save the king, and to hell with
the prince!’ shouted I, flinging the cocked
hat in his face as I galloped by.
The response was the sharp report of
a carbine, accompanied by the whiz of a
bullet, which passed directly between me
and my comrade, now riding beside me.
‘Hurrah!’ I shouted; ‘try it again, my
boy.’
And away we went at a gallop, which
bid fair to distance anything like pursuit.
Never was spur more needed, however,
for soon the clatter of horses’ hoofs, in full
speed, crossing the bridge, came sharp
and clear through the stillness of the
night.
Away we went, with our pursuers close
behind; one mile was passed, another
nearly completed. The moon now shone
forth, and, turning in the saddle, I
looked back upon the road we had
passed.
One trooper had headed the rest, and was
within a hundred yards of us.
I saw the fellow throw himself from his
horse upon the ground.
I knew his object, and said to my comrade:
‘Lower your body—lie flat over the
saddle; the fellow is going to fire.’
I had hardly spoken when the report of
a carbine startled the echoes, and the ball,
striking the hind leg of my companion’s
horse, the poor animal fell headlong upon
the road, throwing his rider head-foremost
over the saddle.
My first impulse was to stop and share
whatever fate might await my comrade;
but my second and wiser one was
to spur on, and save myself and my
despatch.
I rode on at a gallop, turning to observe
my comrade’s fate. I saw his pursuer,
having remounted, ride rapidly up to him,
and, on reaching the spot where the man
and horse lay, rein in and dismount.
He was hardly upon the ground, when
my companion shot him dead with one of
the holster-pistols which he had drawn
from the pipe; and, leaping nimbly over a
ditch at the side of the road, he was
soon lost among the ditches and thorn-bushes which covered that part of the
country.
Another mile being passed, I had the
satisfaction to perceive that the pursuit was
given over, and in an hour more I crossed
Thomond Bridge, and slept that night in
the fortress of Limerick, having delivered
the packet, the result of whose safe arrival
was the destruction of William’s great train
of artillery, then upon its way to the besiegers.
Years after this adventure, I met in
France a young officer, who I found had
served in Captain Oliver’s regiment; and he
explained what I had never before understood—
the motives of the man who had
wrought my deliverance. Strange to say,
he was the foster-brother of Oliver, whom
he thus devoted to death, but in revenge
for the most grievous wrong which one
man can inflict upon another!
This work was published before January 1, 1931, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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