University of Virginia Library

19. CHAP. XIX.

Thaunus the Druid.

When O'Halloran informed the other chiefs of
the conspiracy, of Sir Geoffrey's threat, they agreed
to make no noise about it, least by irritating a person
so unprincipled, he might be induced to inform
against them to the government.

To discover on the United Irishmen, was, indeed,
the first impulse that actuated this man's mind on
his rupture with O'Halloran, but he was prevented
by his cowardice—the fate of M`Bride terrified
him. Besides he was not sure (for he was a man
of no political sagacity) which of the two parties
might in the end prevail. He was, therefore, unwilling
to provoke either. With respect to Ellen,
his passion was not in the least diminished. He
was so far from relinquishing his views upon her,
that it now became his chief study, how to effect
by fraud or violence, what he could not by fair
and friendly means.

It was supposed, by Ellen's friends, that amusement
and change of scene would contribute to remove
from her mind the impression of her late sufferings,
and hasten the restoration of her health
and spirits. She was, therefore, prevailed on to
accompany Miss Agnew on a visit to the residence

of her father. It was in the afternoon of a beautiful
day in April, when they set out in a one horse
chair. The whispering wind waved gently over
hill and valley with a balmy, genial softness, which
rendered the atmosphere delightful; while the
sun diffused a kindly fertilizing warmth into the
bosom of the joyous earth, which produced a luxuriant,
beauteous and fragrant vegetation all over
its surface. The fields, the groves and the hedgerows
were bursting into life; and all nature was
assuming her gay and green attire, while animation,
joy and gratitude, inspired the harmonious
effusions of the feathered race; and seemed to
awaken corresponding emotions in the hearts of
the country people, as they alternately whistled
and sang at their rural employments.

The season and the scenery recalled to Ellen's
memory, some simple verses she had lately received
of M`Nelvin's composition; and as they rode
along a fine road at an easy rate, she indulged the
curiosity of her companion by repeating them.

Ellen had scarcely finished the recital of these
verses, when, in a lonely part of the road, adjoining
a wood, a stranger on horseback overtook
them, and addressed them in a vulgar tone, and
with a face of great affrontery.

“A bonnie day, ladies! Do you gang far this
way?” “Only a few miles,” was the reply of
Miss Agnew; and for a short space all were again
silent. At length another unknown horseman rode
forward and exclaimed,

“Damn you, Jack, why dont you stop the driver?
We have no time to lose.”

Jack now drew a pistol from his pocket, and
presenting it at the driver, ordered him to stop.
He was obeyed.

“Miss O'Halloran,” said the man who last came
forward, “my employer desires the pleasure of
your company to night; but being afraid that you
would not come willingly, he ordered us to bring
you by force. You will be pleased to get behind
me, and let that other lady proceed by herself.—
Confound your screaming!—Gag them, Jack, or

they'll alarm the whole country. Tear them from
each other.”

This was scarcely uttered when he was levelled
to the ground by a tremendous blow of a large
stick, which resounded from his head with a noise
that startled the terrified ladies. Jack immediately
discharged his pistol at the assailant; but the ball
missed its object; and had he not instantly put
spurs to his horse, he would have been the next
moment as low as his companion.

“Let him go,” cried the victor, turning to the
affrighted ladies. “He will not molest you again
this evening.”

“Ellen now recovered sufficiently from her terror
to recognise the Green Minstrel in her deliverer.”

“Fair lady!” said he, addressing her, and holding
the shamrock wreath in his hand, “behold a
man who has sworn eternal servitude to you. On
the night you decorated his brow with this badge
of your favour, he pledged himself to watch over
and guard you, with all the zeal and assiduity of
devoted knighthood; and this day has afforded
him the first opportunity of proving his fidelity.”

“Tell me, tell me, kind and noble youth,” said
she, “to whom I am so much indebted?”

“My fair mistress,” replied the youth, “indulge
my wish for concealment for some time.
You shall know me at a more convenient season.
Beware of Carebrow. 'Tis his villany has occasioned
this scene; but I shall watch him. Meantime
drive on, and fear nothing. Should you again
be attacked, I shall not be far off. Adieu!” and
he hastily disappeared in the adjoining wood.

Having only about two miles further to ride, by
a pretty smart application of his whip, which the
driver now thought proper to make, they soon arrived

at the residence of John Agnew, Esq. the
father of Ellen's companion.

When this outrage was communicated to the
united chiefs, not one of them doubted but that Sir
Geoffrey was its author. They indeed soon had
reason to withdraw all their confidence from him;
for they received intelligence that he had made
great professions of loyalty at a late public dinner
given by the friends of government in Belfast;
that he had, since his dispute with O'Halloran,
purchased a large amount of government debentures,
and was in daily expectation of being put
into the commission of the peace. At the latter
end of April, therefore, they held a consultation
concerning him, at which it was resolved to seize
his person, and confine him in their cave, before
he should have time to do them mischief by the
disclosures which they doubted not he would willingly
make to the government.

While the chiefs were assembled at this consultation,
they received despatches from Dublin,
by express, containing news of a most disastrous
description, which rendered it necessary for
them, and for all the United Societies in the kingdom,
to adopt measures of the most decisive nature.

They were informed that, in consequence of one
Reynolds having betrayed them, the most active
members of their National Directory had been
seized and imprisoned by the government; that
Lord Edward Fitgerald, their leader, had been
so severely wounded in the attempt to arrest him
that he had since died—that Oliver Bond, Henry
and John Sheares, Thomas Addis Emmet, and Dr.
M`Nevin were committed to close confinement, until
the formation of a special commission to try
them for high treason, should be completed. They
were, therefore, urged to make a grand effort either
to rescue these leaders, or to seize a number of

the government party as hostages for their safety.
As this could not be done, however, without an
absolute insurrection, they were exhorted to be
ready for that measure by the beginning of June,
the trial of the captured chiefs not being expected
to come on before the middle of that month.

Samuel Nelson, who was now in Dublin, and at
the death of lord Fitzgerald, had been appointed
to the chief management of their affairs, informed
them that he should immediately despatch a messenger
to France, to hasten the arrival of the promised
succours; and that for the purpose of rendering
the rising as simultaneous as possible in all
parts of the country, he had directed it to take
place every where on the third day after information
should be received of the stoppage of the
different mail coaches proceeding from the metropolis,
which should be the signal of an attack
having been made there.

All was now bustle and activity among the conspirators.
Messengers were sent to every influential
United Irishman in the country. Nightly
assemblages for drilling the peasantry in the art of
war, were held more extensively and frequently;
and every smith who had joined the confederacy,
became busily employed in the manufacture of
pikes, and in the repairing of muskets and other
kinds of warlike instruments. So high indeed did the
excitement for insurrection become at this period,
that even many of the softer sex employed themselves
in casting bullets, preparing cartridges, and
making cockades and insurrectionary banners.

The immediate object of O'Halloran, was to
collect an additional supply of gunpowder, an article
in which his district was deficient. The
greater portion of what had been purchased by
Sir Geoffrey's money, having been distributed

throughout the adjoining counties. This distribution
had been readily yielded to by O'Halloran's
immediate colleagues, in reliance on being able, on
account of their proximity to the sea, to procure
an abundant and timely supply for themselves,
with the sum which Sir Geoffrey, according to his
contract, had yet to furnish them.

Sore with their disappointment, they now breathed
vengeance on the defaulter; and had he fallen
into the hands of M`Cauley, Kelly, Darragh,
or any other of the more desperate of the party,
his life would have paid the forfeit of his delinquency.
He, however, having lately become a magistrate,
and knowing that for that reason as well as
several others of a more heinous nature, he had
become obnoxious to his former friends, he confined
himself as much as possible to his seat at
Carebrow-hall, which he had the precaution to
keep well guarded, by supplying his domestics
with arms, and ordering them every night to hold
alternate watch, for fear of a surprise.

One evening he would have been destroyed by
Darragh and Kelly, who were indefatigable in
watching for an opportunity for that purpose, contrary
to the desire of their leaders, who did not
at this crisis, wish the attention of the government
to be excited by any such outrage.

He was returning home from Carrickfergus, attended
by two servants, (for he never at this time
ventured abroad without such attendance,) when
coming to the border of his demesne, he ordered
them to catch a favourite colt, which had broken
out of an enclosure, and was playing at large on
the high road. They obeyed, and he rode alone
towards the house.

Darragh and Kelly were lying in wait for him
in the shrubbery that skirted the public avenue,
which led to the house. They were perceived by

a lad about fourteen years of age, named Nelson,
who knew their design; but who, on account of
Carebrow having arbitrarily turned his mother,
who was a widow, and her family, of which he was
the eldest, out of their little holding, at the most
inclement season of the preceding winter, hated
him. Persuaded now that vengeance would be inflicted
on the oppressor, in the excitement of the
moment, he called prematurely from a tree on
which he was stationed; “There, Darragh! there
comes the tyrant. Now have at him.”

Carebrow both heard and saw Nelson, and instantly
took the alarm. He put spurs to his horse,
which darting over a low clipt hedge into an open
lawn, carried him at full flight towards the house.

Darragh and Kelly being only armed with pistols
and bayonets, conceived it imprudent to fire, as
there would be little chance of hitting him, and the
report would alarm his servants, and render their
escape difficult. They fled immediately without
making any further attempt upon him, but heartily
cursing Nelson for giving him the alarm. It was,
indeed, as we shall afterwards have occasion to
narrate, an unfortunate incident for Nelson, resulting
to him in a most melancholy catastrophe.

As will be readily supposed, wrath and revenge
were highly inflamed in the mind of Sir Geoffrey
on this occasion; but their effects with respect to
the United Irishmen were suppressed by the force
of his terrors; and although he was now in the
commission of the peace, and might have issued
warrants for their apprehension and imprisonment,
he feared their party too much to give them such
provocation. He knew not but that they might
in the end, overthrow their opponents, and in that
case, he wished still to keep a door open for reconciliation
with them. He, therefore, although
he knew the Darragh whom Nelson addressed

when he gave him the alarm, dared not add to the
irritation of the conspirators, by having him, or
any other of their associates, apprehended. If the
government should maintain its authority, this forbearance
not being publicly known, would not injure
him in its estimation; while, in the event of
the United Irishmen being successful, it might be
pleaded as a merit by which he might hope to regain
their favour, at least their forgiveness.

This unsteady vacillating conduct, this endeavouring
to stand well with both parties, was adopted
by a numerous portion of the Irish population
at this period. Some from mere timidity were entirely
neutral; others from a mixture of ambition
and cowardice, wished to be considered friendly
by both parties, and accordingly, in a covert manner,
occasionally lent assistance to both. So that,
in the vulgar phrase, possessing two strings to their
bow, which ever party prevailed, they were sure to
be gainers.

Sir Geoffrey, however, had offended the conspirators
too deeply to be forgiven on account of
mere forbearance towards them. But he was not
altogether certain of this. He knew that they
were dissatisfied and enraged at his conduct; but
he did not believe that they were irreconcilably
so. He, therefore, conceived it to be his interest,
while he acted so as to merit the favour of the
government, to give the opposite party no cause to
think him their decided enemy.

His ungovernable passion for Ellen alone interfered
with this wise resolution. He could not be
happy without the enjoyment of those beauties, on
which he had so long feasted his imagination. The
cup of bliss had approached too near his lips, and
had been too suddenly and unexpectedly dashed
from them, to be easily forgotten and relinquished.
He was resolved, therefore, to make another effort
to possess it.

He knew that he was suspected for the outrage
that had already been committed on her, and that
consequently, the eyes of her numerous friends and
connexions would be immediately directed towards
him, if she were subjected to another. He felt,
however, that at all hazards, he must possess her;
but to succeed, and to succeed with safety, required
that the attempt should be conducted, not
only with great dexterity, but with great privacy.
That he was foiled in his last attempt, he attributed
to its having been so publicly made, in the
face of day, and on the open road.

“She shall be mine,” said he to himself, “if
there be power in gold to hire assistants, and
strength in steel to render them successful!”

He had several conferences with one Philip
Berwick, his game-keeper, who had often procured
handsome young women for his service. It was
this man and Tim Rodgers, another of his domestics,
who had been his instrument in the former
attempt to seize Ellen, and who for a handsome
reward, notwithstanding his disaster in that affair,
(for it was he who had fallen under the stroke of
the Green Minstrel,) was ready to renew the under-taking
in what ever way he should be directed.

At length their conferences resulted in the adoption
of the following plan. One of Sir Geoffrey's
tenants, whose rent he attempted to raise, had a
few months before, relinquished his farm, which, as
nobody else thought it worth the sum he demanded
for it, was now unoccupied. On this place there
was a tolerably comfortable dwelling house, in a
very retired situation, to which it was determined
forcibly to bring Ellen, as it was believed that she
could be there effectually concealed, until circumstances
should permit Sir Geoffrey to carry her to
an estate which he possessed in Gloucestershire,
in England.