In Freedom's Cause : A Story of Wallace and Bruce

by G. A. Henty

  Chapter XVI

  An Irish Rising

  When night came on Archie started for the west, accompanied byRonald and two of the Irish as guides. They crossed the countrywithout question or interference, and reached the wild mountainsof Donegal in safety. Archie had asked that his conductors shouldlead him to the abode of the principal chieftain of the district.The miserable appearance of the sparsely scattered villages throughwhich they had passed had prepared him to find that the superiorsof such a people would be in a very different position from thefeudal lords of the Highlands of Scotland. He was not surprised,therefore, when his attendants pointed out a small hold, such aswould appertain to a small landowner on the Scottish Border, as theresidence of the chief. Around it were scattered a number of lowhuts composed of turf, roofed with reeds. From these, when theapproach of strangers was reported, a number of wild looking figurespoured out, armed with weapons of the most primitive description.A shout from Archie's guides assured these people that the newcomerwas not, as his appearance betokened him, a Norman knight, buta visitor from Scotland who sought a friendly interview with thechief.

  Insignificant as was the hold, it was evident that something likefeudal discipline was kept up. Two men, armed with pikes, werestationed on the wall, while two others leant in careless fashionagainst the posts of the open gate. On the approach of Archie anelderly man, with a long white beard, came out to meet them. Ronaldexplained to him that Archie was a knight who had come as an emissaryfrom the King of Scotland to the Irish chieftains, and desired tospeak with the great Fergus of Killeen. The old man bowed deeplyto Archie, and then escorted him into the house.

  The room which they entered occupied the whole of the groundfloor of the hold, and was some thirty feet wide by forty long. Asapparently trees of sufficient length to form the beams of so widean apartment could not be obtained, the floor above was supportedby two rows of roughly squared posts extending down from end toend. The walls were perfectly bare. The beams and planks of theceiling were stained black by the smoke of a fire which burned inone corner; the floor was of clay beaten hard. A strip some tenfeet wide, at the further end, was raised eighteen inches above thegeneral level, forming a sort of dais. Here, in a carved settle ofblack wood, sat the chief. Some females, evidently the ladies ofhis family, were seated on piles of sheepskins, and were plyingtheir distaffs; while an aged man was seated on the end of the daiswith a harp of quaint form on his knee; his fingers touched a lastchord as Archie entered, and he had evidently been playing whilethe ladies worked. Near him on the dais was a fire composed ofwood embers, which were replenished from time to time with freshglowing pieces of charcoal taken from the fire at the other end ofthe room, so that the occupants of the dais should not be annoyedby the smoke arising close to them.

  The chief was a fine looking man about fifty years old. He wasclad in a loose fitting tunic of soft dark green cloth, confined atthe waist by a broad leathern band with silver clasp and ornaments,and reaching to his knees. His arms were bare; on his feet he woresandals, and a heavy sword rested against the wall near his hand.The ladies wore dresses of similar material and of somewhat similarfashion, but reaching to the feet. They wore gold armlets; and thechief's wife had a light band of gold round her head. The chiefrose when Archie entered; and upon the seneschal informing him ofthe rank and mission of his visitor he stepped from the dais, andadvancing, greeted him warmly. Then he led him back to the dais,where he presented to him the ladies of his family, ordering theretainers, of whom about a score were gathered in the hall, toplace two piles of sheepskins near the fire. On one of these he satdown, and motioned to Archie to take his place on the other--hisown chair being removed to a corner. Then, through the medium ofRonald, the conversation began.

  Archie related to the chief the efforts which the Scotch weremaking to win their freedom from England, and urged in the king'sname that a similar effort should be made by the Irish; as theforces of the English, being thereby divided and distracted, theremight be better hope of success. The chief heard the communicationin grave silence. The ladies of the family stood behind the chiefwith deeply interested faces; and as the narrative of the longcontinued struggle which the Scots were making for freedom continuedit was clear, by their glowing cheeks and their animated faces,how deeply they sympathized in the struggle.

  The wife of the chief, a tall and stately lady, stood immediatelybehind him with her two daughters, girls of some seventeen oreighteen years of age, beside her. As Ronald was translating hiswords Archie glanced frequently at the group, and thought he hadnever seen one fairer or more picturesque. There was a strikinglikeness between mother and daughters; but the expression of staiddignity in the one was in the others replaced by a bright expressionof youth and happiness. Their beauty was of a kind new to Archie.Their dark glossy hair was kept smoothly in place by the filletof gold in the mother's case, and by purple ribbons in that of thedaughters. Their eyebrows and long eyelashes were black, but theireyes were gray, and as light as those to which Archie was accustomedunder the fair tresses of his countrywomen. The thing that struckhim most in the faces of the girls was their mobility, the expressionchanging as it seemed in an instant from grave to gay--flushingat one moment with interest at the tale of deeds of valour, palingat the next at the recital of cruel oppression and wrong. When Archiehad finished his narrative he presented to the chief a beautifullywrought chain of gold as a token from the King of Scotland.

  The chief was silent for some time after the interpreter concludedArchie's narrative; then he said:

  "Sir knight, it almost seems to me as if I had been listening tothe tale of the wrongs of Ireland, save that it appears that themastery of the English here has been more firmly established thanwith you. This may be from the nature of the country; our hillsare, for the most part, bare, while yours, you say, are coveredwith forest. Thus the Normans could more easily, when they had oncegained the upper hand, crush out the last vestiges of oppositionthan they could with you. As I judge from what you say, the Englishin Scotland hold all the fortresses, and when the people rise theyremain sheltered in them until assistance comes from England. Withus it is different. First they conquer all the country; then froma wide tract, a third perhaps of the island, they drive out the wholeof the people, and establish themselves firmly there, portioning theland among the soldiery and repeopling the country with an Englishrace. Outside this district the Irish chieftains, like myself,retain something of independence; we pay a tribute, and are in theposition of feudatories, being bound to furnish so many men forthe King of England's wars if called upon to do so. The Englishseldom come beyond their pale so long as the tribute is paid, andthe yoke, therefore, weighs not so heavy upon us; but were we torise, the English army would pour out from its pale and carry fireand sword throughout the country.

  "We, like you, have been without one who would unite us against thecommon enemy. Our great chiefs have, for the most part, acceptedEnglish titles, and since their power over the minor chiefs isextended, rather than decreased by the changed circumstances, theyare well content, for they rule now over their districts, not onlyas Irish chieftains, but as English lieutenants. You have seen,as you journeyed here, how sparse is the population of our hills,and how slight would be the opposition which we could offer, didthe Earl of Ulster sweep down upon us with trained English soldiers.

  "Were there a chance of success, Fergus of Killeen would gladlydraw the sword again; but I will not bring ruin upon my familyand people by engaging in a hopeless enterprise. Did I raisemy standard, all Donegal would take up arms; but Donegal alone ispowerless against England. I know my people--they are ready forthe fray, they would rush to battle and perish in thousands to winvictory, but one great defeat would crush them. The story of thelong fight which your Wallace, with a small following, made againstthe power of England, will never be told of an Irish leader. Wehave bravery and reckless courage, but we have none of the stubbornobstinacy of your Scottish folk. Were the flag raised the peoplewould flock to it
, and would fight desperately; but if they lost,there would be utter and complete collapse. The fortitude to supportrepeated defeats, to struggle on when the prospect seems darkest,does not belong to my people.

  "It is for this reason that I have no hope that Ireland will everregain its independence. She may struggle against the yoke, shemay blaze out again and again in bloody risings, our sons may diein tens of thousands for her; but never, I believe, as long as themen of the two countries remain what they are, will Ireland recoverher independence, for, in the long run, English perseverance anddetermination will overcome the fitful courage of the Irish. Igrieve that I should say it. I mourn that I feel it my duty torepress rather than to encourage the eager desire of my people todraw the sword and strike for freedom; but such is my conviction.

  "But understand, sir knight, that whatever I may think, I shallnot be backward in doing my part. If Ireland again rises, shouldthe other native chieftains determine to make one more effort todrive the English across the channel, be sure that Fergus of Killeenand the men of Donegal will be in the front of the battle. No heartbeats more warmly for freedom than mine; and did I stand alone Iwould take to the bogs and join those who shelter there, defyingthe might of England. But I have my people to think of. I have seenhow the English turn a land to desolation as they sweep across it,and I will not bring fire and sword into these mountain valleysunless all Ireland is banded in a common effort. You have seenScotland wasted from sea to sea, her cities burned, her peopleslain by thousands, her dales and valleys wasted; and can you tellme that after these years of struggle you have gained any suchadvantage as would warrant your advising me to rise against England?"

  Archie was silent. Thinking over the struggle in which he hadtaken part for so many years, and remembering the woes that it hadbrought on Scotland, and that, after fighting so long, Bruce andthe handful of fugitives at Rathlin were the sole survivors of thepatriotic party, he could not but acknowledge at heart the justiceof the chiefs words. His sole hope for Scotland now rested in theperseverance and personal valour of the king, and the stubborncharacter of the people, which he felt assured would lead themto rise again and again, in spite of disaster and defeat, untilfreedom was won. The Irish possessed no Bruce; their country wasless defendible than Scotland; and if, as Fergus said, they had noneof that indomitable perseverance which enabled the Scotch peopleagain and again to rise against the yoke, what hope could therebe of final success, how could he be justified in urging upon thechieftain a step which would bring fire and sword into those quietvalleys! For some time, therefore, after Ronald had translated thechief's speech he remained silent.

  "I will not urge you further, sir," he said, "for you are surelythe best judge of what is good for your people, and I have seensuch ruin and desolation in Scotland, so many scores of ruinedtowns and villages, so many thousands of levelled homesteads, thatI will not say a single word to urge you to alter your resolution.It is enough for me that you have said that if Ireland rises youwill also draw the sword. I must carry out my instructions, andhence shall travel south and visit other chiefs; they may viewmatters differently, and may see that what Ireland cannot do aloneshe may do in conjunction with Scotland."

  "So be it!" Fergus said. "Believe me, if you raise a flame throughthe west the north will not hang back. And now I trust that youwill remain here for a few days as my guest. All that I have isyours, and my wife and daughters will do their best to make thetime pass pleasantly for you."

  Archie remained three days at the chiefs hold, where the primitivelife interested him greatly. A lavish hospitality was exercised.Several sheep were killed and roasted each day, and all comers werefree to join the repast. The chief's more immediate retainers, sometwenty in number, ate, lived, and slept in the great hall; whiletables were spread outside, at which all who came sat down withoutquestion. The upper rooms of the hold were occupied by the chief,the ladies of his family, and the female domestics. Here they retiredwhen they felt disposed, but their meals were served on the dais.In the evening the harper played and sang legends of deeds of braveryin the day of Ireland's independence; and as Ronald translated thesongs to him Archie could not but conclude privately that civil war,rapine, strife, and massacre must have characterized the countryin those days.

  At the conclusion of his stay Fergus appointed two of the retainersto accompany Archie south, and to give assurance to the variouswild people through whom he might pass, that Archie's mission wasa friendly one to Ireland, and that he was an honoured friend andguest of the chief of Killeen.

  On his arrival in Mayo Archie found matters more favourable to hismission. An insurrection had already broken out, headed by some ofthe local chieftains, originating in a broil between the Englishsoldiers of a garrison and the natives. The garrison had beensurprised and massacred, and the wild Irish were flocking to arms.By the chieftains here Archie, on explaining his mission, was warmlywelcomed. As they were already in arms no urging on his part wasneeded, and they despatched messengers throughout the country,saying that an emissary from Scotland had arrived, and calling uponall to rise and to join with the Scotch in shaking off the yoke ofEngland.

  Archie had therefore to travel no farther, and decided that hecould best carry out his mission by assisting to organize and leadthe Irish forces. These he speedily discovered were beyond allcomparison inferior, both in arms, in discipline, and in methodsof fighting, to the Scots. For a dashing foray they would beexcellent. Hardy, agile, and full of impetuosity, they would beardown all resistance instantly, were that resistance not too strong;but against stubborn and well armed troops they would break likea wave against a rock. Archie saw that with such troops anythinglike regular war would be impossible, and that the struggle mustbe one of constant surprises, attacks, and forays, and that theycould succeed only by wearing out and not by defeating the enemy.With such tactics as these they might by long perseverance succeed;but this was just what Fergus had warned him they would not practise,and that their courage was rather of a kind which would lead themto dash desperately against the line of levelled spears, ratherthan continue a long and weary struggle under apparently hopelesscircumstances.

  The chiefs, hearing from Archie that he had acted as one of Wallace'slieutenants in battles where the English had been heavily defeated,willingly consented that he should endeavour to instil the tacticsby which those battles had been won into their own followers; butwhen they found that he proposed that the men should remain stationaryto withstand the English charges, they shook their heads.

  "That will never do for our people," they said. "They must attacksword in hand. They will rush fearlessly down against any odds, butyou will never get them steadily to withstand a charge of men-at-arms."

  Archie, however, persuaded them to allow him to organize a band oftwo hundred men under his immediate orders. These were armed withlong pikes, and were to form a sort of reserve, in order that ifthe wild charge of the main body failed in its object these couldcover a retreat, or serve as a nucleus around which they couldrally. The army swelled rapidly; every day fresh chiefs arrivedwith scores of wild tribesmen. Presently the news came that anEnglish force was advancing from the Pale against them. A councilwas held at which Archie was present. Very strongly he urged hisviews upon the chieftains, namely: that they should altogetherdecline a pitched battle; but that, divided into numerous parties,they should enter the Pale, destroying weak garrisons and ravagingthe country, trying to wear out the English by constant skirmishesand night attacks, but refusing always to allow themselves to betempted into an engagement.

  "The English cannot be everywhere at once," he urged. "Let themhold only the ground on which their feet stand. As they advanceor retire, close ever in on their rear, drive off their cattle anddestroy their crops and granaries in the Pale; force them to livewholly in their walled towns, and as you gain in strength capturethese one by one, as did we in Scotland. So, and so only, can youhope for ultimate success."

  His advice was received with a silence which he
at once saw betokeneddisapproval. One after another of the Irish chieftains rose anddeclared that such a war could not be sustained.

  "Our retainers," they said, "are ready to fight, but after fightingthey will want to return to their homes; besides, we are fifteenthousand strong, and the English men-at-arms marching against usare but eight hundred; it would be shameful and cowardly to avoid abattle, and were we willing to do so our followers would not obeyus. Let us first destroy this body of English, then we shall bejoined by others, and can soon march straight upon Dublin."

  Archie saw that it was hopeless to persevere, and set out thefollowing day with the wild rabble, for they could not be termedan army, to meet the English. The leaders yielded so far to hisadvice as to take up a position where they would fight with the bestchance of success. The spot lay between a swamp extending a vastdistance, and a river, and they were thus open only to an attackin front, and could, if defeated, take refuge in the bog, wherehorsemen could not follow them.

  On the following morning the English were seen approaching. Inaddition to the 800 men-at-arms were 1000 lightly equipped footmen,for experience had taught the English commanders that in such acountry lightly armed men were necessary to operate where the wideextending morasses prevented the employment of cavalry. The Englishadvanced in solid array: 300 archers led the way; these werefollowed by 700 spearmen, and the men-at-arms brought up the rear.The Irish were formed in disordered masses, each under its ownchieftain. The English archers commenced the fight with a showerof arrows. Scarcely had these began to fall when the Irish with atremendous yell rushed forward to the assault. The English archerswere swept like chaff before them. With reckless bravery they threwthemselves next upon the spearmen. The solid array was broken bythe onslaught, and in a moment both parties were mixed up in wildconfusion.

  The sight was too much for Archie's band to view unmoved, and these,in spite of his shouts, left their ground and rushed at full speedafter their companions and threw themselves into the fight.

  Archie was mounted, having been presented with a horse by one ofthe chiefs, and he now, although hopeless of the final result, rodeforward. Just as he joined the confused and struggling mass theEnglish men-at-arms burst down upon them. As a torrent would cleaveits way through a mass of loose sand, so the English men-at-armsburst through the mass of Irish, trampling and cutting down all intheir path. Not unharmed, however, for the Irish fought desperatelywith axe and knife, hewing at the men-at-arms, stabbing at thehorses, and even trying by sheer strength to throw the riders tothe ground. After passing through the mass the men-at-arms turnedand again burst down upon them. It was a repetition of the firstcharge. The Irish fought desperately, but it was each for himself;there was neither order nor cohesion, and each man strove only tokill a foe before being himself slain. Archie and the chiefs, withthe few mounted men among the retainers, strove in vain to stemthe torrent. Under the orders of their leaders the English keptin a compact mass, and the weight of the horses and armour boredown all opposition. Four times did the men-at-arms burst throughthe struggling mass of Irish. As they formed to charge the fifthtime the latter lost heart, and as if acting under a simultaneousinfluence they turned and fled.

  The English horse burst down on the rear of the mass of fugitives,hewing them down in hundreds. Those nearest to the river dashed in,and numbers were drowned in striving to cross it. The main body,however, made for the swamp, and though in the crush many sank inand perished miserably here, the great majority, leaping lightlyfrom tuft to tuft, gained the heart of the morass, the pursuinghorse reining up on its edge.

  Ronald had kept near Archie in the fight, and when all was lostran along by the side of his horse, holding fast to the stirrupleather. The horsemen still pressed along between the river andthe morass, and Archie, following the example of several of thechiefs, alighted from his saddle, and with his companion enteredthe swamp. It was with the greatest difficulty that he made hisway across it, and his lightly armed companion did him good servicein assisting several times to drag him from the treacherous mirewhen he began to sink in it. At last they reached firmer ground inthe heart of the swamp, and here some 5000 or 6000 fugitives weregathered. At least 4000 had fallen on the field. Many had escapedacross the river, although numbers had lost their lives in theattempt. Others scattered and fled in various directions. A fewof the chiefs were gathered in council when Archie arrived. Theyagreed that all was lost and there was nothing to do but scatterto their homes. Archie took no part in the discussion. That day'sexperience had convinced him that nothing like a permanent anddetermined insurrection was possible, and only by such a movementcould the Scottish cause be aided, by forcing the English to sendreinforcements across St. George's Channel. After seeing theslaughter which had taken place, he was rejoiced at heart that therising had commenced before he joined it, and was in no way theresult of his mission, but was one of the sporadic insurrectionswhich frequently broke out in Ireland, only to be instantly andsternly repressed.

  "We have failed, Sir Knight," one of the chiefs said to him, "butit was not for want of courage on the part of our men."

  "No, indeed," Archie replied through his interpreter; "never did Isee men fight more fiercely, but without discipline and organizationvictory is well nigh impossible for lightly armed footmen againstheavy mailclad cavalry."

  "The tactics you advised were doubtless good," the chief said; "Isee their wisdom, but they are well nigh impossible to carry outwith such following as ours. They are ever impatient for the fray,but quickly wearied by effort; ready to die, but not to wait; tothem prudence means cowardice, and their only idea of fighting isto rush full at a foe. See how they broke the English spearmen!"

  "It was right well done," Archie replied, "and some day, when welltrained and disciplined, Irish soldiers will be second to none inthe world; but unless they will submit to training and disciplinethey can never hope to conquer the English."

  "And now, Sir Knight, what do you propose doing?" the chief said.

  "I shall make my way north," Archie replied, "and shall rejoin myking at Rathlin."

  "I will send two of my men with you. They know every foot of themorasses of this neighbourhood, and when they get beyond the pointfamiliar to them will procure you two others to take their places.It will need all your prudence and courage to get through, forthe English men-at-arms will be scouring the country in groups offour, hunting all those they come across like wolves. See, already!"and he pointed to the horizon; "they are scattering round the edgeof the morass to inclose us here; but it is many miles round, andbefore tomorrow is gone not a man will be left here."

  When darkness fell, Archie, accompanied by Ronald and his guides,set out on his journey. Alone he could never have found his waythrough the swamps, but even in the darkness his guides moved alongquickly, following tracks known to them with the instinct of hounds;Archie kept close on their heels, as a step only a few inches fromthe track might plunge him in a deep morass, in which in a fewseconds he would sink out of sight. On nearing the edge of thebog the guides slackened their pace. Motioning to Archie to remainwhere he was, they crept forward noiselessly into the darkness.Not far off he could hear the calls of the English horsemen. Thesounds were repeated again and again until they died away in thedistance, showing that a cordon had been drawn round the morass soas to inclose the fugitives from the battle of the previous day.

  In a quarter of an hour the guides returned as noiselessly as theyhad departed, and Archie continued the march at their heels. Evengreater caution than before was now necessary in walking, for theEnglish, before darkness had set in, had narrowly examined the edgeof the morass, and had placed three or four men wherever they coulddiscover the slightest signs of a track. Thus Archie's guides wereobliged to leave the path by which they had previously travelled.Their progress was slow now, the party only moving for a few yardsat a time, and then halting while the guides searched for groundsolid enough to carry their weight. At last Archie felt the groundgrow firmer under his foot, a
nd a reconnaissance by the guideshaving shown them that none of the English were stationed oppositeto them, they left the morass, and noiselessly made their way acrossthe country until far beyond the English line.

  All night they walked, and at daybreak entered another swamp, andlay down for the day in the long coarse grass growing on a piece offirm ground deep in its recesses. In the evening one of the guidesstole out and returned with a native of the neighbourhood, whoundertook to show Archie the way on his further journey.

  Ten days, or rather nights, of steady journeying brought Archieagain to the rocky shore where he had landed. Throughout he hadfound faithful guides, whom he had rewarded by giving, as was oftenthe custom of the time, in lieu of money, a link or two of one ofhis gold chains. He and Ronald again took refuge in the cave wherethey had passed the first night of their landing. It was untenantednow.

  Here they abode for a fortnight, Ronald going up every two or threedays to purchase provisions at the scattered cottages. On Saturdaynight they lit a great fire just inside the mouth of the cave, sothat while the flames could be seen far out at sea the light wouldbe unobserved by the garrison of Dunluce or any straggler on thecliff above. It had been arranged with Duncan that every Saturdaynight, weather permitting, he should sail across and look fora signal fire. The first Saturday night was wild and stormy, andalthough they lit the fire they had but slight idea that Duncanwould put out. The following week, however, the night was calm andbright, and after piling up the fire high they proceeded to thecauseway, and two hours later saw to their joy a boat approaching.In a few minutes they were on board, and by the following morningreached Rathlin.

  The king and his companions welcomed Archie's return warmly,although the report which he made showed that there was no hope ofobtaining any serious diversion of the English attack by a permanentrising in Ireland; and the king, on hearing Archie's account ofall that had passed, assured him that he felt that, although he hadfailed, no one, under the circumstances, could have done otherwise.