Rebellion

I haven't posted for a while, its been a busy summer, going here and there anyway here are one or two interesting comments on the 1798 rebellion.

The family names index format didn't work out quite right (thanks Carol) I am going to try and fix it!

As always I hope these are of interest, all feedback welcome, the following are sourced from the McPeake papers...

Wexford Rebellion 1798.
John to Caesar.
Dated Fishguard June 15th 1798.
My dear Caesar,
Dreadful and horrid events have happened in the County Wexford since I
wrote to you last. I went to Dublin about the middle of last month about Dunmain.
A few days after my arrival Martial Law was proclaimed, and tho’ every thing was
perfectly quite, it was very unpleasant as there was no kind of business doing, and all
persons should be in their houses by 9 o’clock. I therefore determined to return to
the country, which I conceived to be quiet. Accordingly on Saturday evening the 26th
I set sail in a Wexford Sloop for that town where I arrived on Monday morning, and
found all there in utmost consternation. A party of insurgents to the amount of at
least 4000 had assembled near our land; on Saturday night a party of the North Cork
Militia amounting to 110 marched out against them. They fired two rounds when the
insurgents began to give way, but the Officer most imprudently ordered his men to
charge, the other party rallied and received the soldiers on their pikes which being
two or three feet longer than the bayonets they killed every one of the party except
four. (I should have told you my mother was in Dublin). The drawbridge was now
the only protection of Wexford, for there was no more military there, or indeed in
the county, except Yeomanry Corps which were so scattered up and down, that they
could affect nothing. The insurgents proceeded to Enniscorthy having first destroyed
all the county between Wexford and Gorey (The latter was taken by another party).
They proceeded burning the houses and murdering the families of all that did not
join them, till they came to Enniscorthy which after a gallant defence by about 220
Yeomen and Militia, they took the place and burned it to the ground. This happened
on Monday. On Wednesday morning 2 Howitzers that were going from Duncannon
to Wexford were surrounded at the mountain of Forth and taken and all the party,
about 60, cut to pieces. There was a party of the Army amounting to about 500 on
their way from Waterford, but on their hearing of this last business they retreated to
Duncannon.
The whole county was now at their mercy, and Tom Mc Cord and I, and all the
Protestants retreated into it also, not that I was a bit afraid of our own people for
there was nothing they dreaded as much as being forced through dire necessity to
join the insurgents, but Lord Ely’s estate, and Lord Donegal’s, and in short all the
surrounding county was rising and as they must pass through Tintern, they would
force every single male inhabitant along with them, or murder them and their
families. The Army could afford them no protection for they were afraid to stir out of
the Fort, so that any thing so dangerous as Duncannon was, cannot be conceived, for
if they went to Duncannon, they must starve, and their families that they left behind
would be murdered, and if they remained in their houses they would be carried off
by the United men, so that their destruction was and is inevitable. On the retreat of
the Army, all persons except those belonging to it were obliged to quit the Fort, so
on Thursday Tom McCord and family and I sailed in his Sloop and arrived here on the
Saturday following. When we left Ireland, we were sure Ross would have fallen, but
since that there was a considerable force marched into it, so as to be able on the
Tuesday following to repel an attack of the insurgents, with the loss of at least 5000
of them, tho’ many of our acquaintances have been killed, our relations have all
escaped except poor Watson who was killed, (shot by a rebel sniper) and my Uncle
Cornelius who is a prisoner in his own house.
I forgot to tell you that the day the Howitzers were taken Wexford was evacuated by
the Army, and of course fell into the hands of the United men. I think it probable
that there will soon be an end put to this business, and that we may soon return. I
shall be able to send you £100 or £150, as I had 100 sacks of flour on board, for the
Sloop was laden for Dublin. I was so sick that I was two or three days before I
recovered, and I waited for some important news before I wrote. I am at Fishguard.
Direct to me, care of W. Sutton, Haverford West, We have probably lost three or
four of the Burgesses since I wrote. My Uncle Tom has been killed.
à Monsieur Colclough, Post Restante, Ulm.


Letter John to Caesar.
Fishguard, July 3rd 1798.
My dear Caesar,
I take up my pen to write the saddest letter you ever did or I hope ever will
receive. My poor Uncle Cornelius has fallen a victim to the barbarous policy of our
Government. I wrote to you in my former letters from this, the progress of the
rebellion to the time I made my escape, since that-thank God, they have all been cut
to pieces and peace restored at least in our county. They were in possession of the
whole country except Ross and Duncannon for three whole weeks, so that there is
nothing but desolation to be seen, and what I shall do for money for you, I can’t
conceive. At all events I have 100 sacks of flour here, and when I sell them I will send
Wright £150, but when I shall be able to make another remittance God only knows.
I must tell you about Rowe, tho’ he owed my mother, who is with me here, £100, he
would not give her a single farthing, at the time she did not know where I was, and
had not a penny herself, and he could not have less than £6000, with which he sailed
off to Hollyhead.
I wrote to you before that my Uncle Tom was killed at Arklow, charging the rebels at
the head of his troops. This, one would think, was sufficient misfortune, but now to
freeze your very blood, my unfortunate Uncle Cornelius was surrounded and kept a
prisoner in his own house by the rebels, when in order to save his own life he
supplied them with provisions, for doing which, when the Army were victorious, and
retook Wexford, they tryed him by a Court martial for aiding and assisting the rebels,
and he was hanged this day week. John Colclough of Ballyteige was also hanged, but
he was always suspected of being a United man. William Hatton, John Hay,
Beauchamp Bagenal Harvey, William Kearney Keogh, and many others are hanged,
and I suppose all the Papist Merchants and Gentlemen of Wexford also suffer. One
Roach a Priest who was the General is hanged.
Tho’ one can hardly think that it was the original intention of the United men to
murder all the Protestants, for many of the heads of them were of that persuasion.
Yet when once the mob rose, they murdered almost all of them. I am told they
burned upwards of 100 of them in a barn at Scullabogue, and they certainly would
have served all their prisoners that were in Wexford the same way, had not the Army
providentially and unexpectedly come time enough. There were many Protestants
who to save their own lives, were christened by a Priest and pretended to side with
the rebels, such as my Uncle Cornelius, William Hatton, Doctor Jacob, Tom Jones,
Tom Richards, and many others. The women were not injured anywhere, but were
christened. My Uncle John, after fighting at the head of his troops, five days and
nights successively retreated with the Army to Duncannon and thence to Waterford,
where he remained till within this day or two. There was the most dreadful plot
discovered there, four days only before it was to have been put into execution, the
town was to have been set on fire, and all the Protestants murdered, similar plots to
this have been discovered elsewhere, indeed they seem to have universal.
What an escape we have had. Castletown and Heathfield have been entirely gutted,
Tintern has not I am told suffered much, but I have no certain intelligence, it was out
of the gangway, and besides there was no body to touch it, but your own Tenantry
and Lord Ely’s, and as I was always very kind to both, I hope it may have escaped. I
hear most of the old Protestants of Tintern who were not able to join the Yeomanry
at Duncannon were burned at Scullabogue. There is neither car nor horse to be seen
in the whole County, the cornfields eaten and trod down, and the County quite a
desert. You might ride from end to the other without seeing a single man. What will
become of us I can’t think. We don't know whether my Uncles Tom or Cornelius
made a Will. I suppose I need not inform you that as the property was settled, it
can’t be forfeited. As you say Ulm is a cheap place. I think you had better stay where
you are till the troubles are over. My mother and I will be able to do on very little,
and every penny we can raise and run shall go to you. This dreadful crash, has been
hanging over us these eighteen months, and perhaps the Country may recover in a
couple of years. God send it may is the prayer of J. Colclough. My mother is pretty
well. Direct to me to Jemmy Simon, 205 Piccadilly, and he will forward it wherever I
am.
à Monsieur Colclough, Poste Restante, Ulm.


Letter, Caesar, Ulm to John, Picadilly, 22nd July 1798.
My dear John,
I received yours of the 3rd inst. this morning. Judge the horror of this perfidy
that condemned one innocent, whilst two others were losing their lives in the
service, but my dear John this is familiar to me. I saw many instances of nearly the
same nature, and had you followed my hints you would have saved, not only our
friends, but our finances from the present embarrassment. The farther I travel the
more I see the progress of these opinions that have brought our unhappy Country to
the state in which it is, and united with fanaticism, has produced the direful effects
that we now are witness to, and I fear my dear John, the tears that we have already
shed, are not to be soon dryed, (for if I can judge by analogy) the passions once
roused to the point they are, mutual vengeance and ferocity are long continued
effects and I do not flatter myself with so speedy a conclusion to these miserable
calamities. The only judgment I can form, is from the newspapers and opinions, that
I must shut my ears not to hear, for here as elsewhere, one must listen and be silent
lest you pass for the friend or enemy of one side or the other, and always take your
precautions for the worst event, which I have done. And I can live a long time
without drawing from you a farthing, therefore do not send any money to Wright
until I write to you. Had you taken the counsel I gave you, the Mortgage, which now
is but paper, would be in a state to guarantee us from any pecuniary inconvenience,
but I know my dear John that you do all for the better. In future when I venture an
opinion, and conjure you to adopt it, you will pay I am sure more attention to my
advice. I shall remain here tho’ the climate does not agree with me, because it is
cheap, but I fear the recommencement of the War will oblige me to quit, and there is
little doubt to one who listens with indifference, that in such a case, the French party
here will, aided by their Arms intrigues money and principles, and the discontent of
the Country, undermine the ancient authority, and produce the melancholy effects it
has done in the neighbouring Country. Rowe’s conduct does not at all astonish me,
for he is like the rest of the world, except those few who are difficult to be found in
the best of moments, as they are desirable and disinterested in the worst, but this is
no moment for reflections or enmities, as I said already to you, the only recourse is
to assiduously cultivate the pursuit we have adopted.
The Mill and Commerce are your occupations, and I omit not an opportunity
to enrich my stock in the mechanical line that has already been serviceable to me, in
hopes in a more happy moment, to bring back to my unhappy desolate Country, the
fruits of my endeavours, and there reap the now unpromising harvest in serving the
surviving industry that may secure me in concilliating the friendship of all, by an
universal utility. Your letter is so full of melancholy events, and my health so
impaired by the attacks of the bile, that I scarce remember all, and dare not read it
again, such are the sentiments of horror it inspires and on which I will at this
moment make no comment.
Remember me to my mother, the surviving consolation of this dreadful
catastrophe, continue to write the havoc it has made, and amongst all those we
know. Adieu my dear John, my blood is indeed frozen with the events you mention.
In case the war begins again, I think of going to Hungary by the Danube, being the
cheapest country in Europe and removed from immediate danger, but I shall not
take a resolution without deliberately considering it. Adieu again, write to me and
pray that my mother do the same.