The last evening on board was spent merrily on all sides. In the general cabin, where the staff and all the chefs de brigade were assembled, gay songs, and toasts, and speeches succeeded each other till nigh morning. The printed proclamations, meant for circulation among the people, were read out, with droll commentaries; and all imaginable quizzing and jesting went on about the new government to be established in Ireland, and the various offices to be bestowed upon each. Had the whole expedition been a joke, the tone of levity could not have been greater. Not a thought was bestowed, not a word wasted, upon any of the graver incidents that might ensue. All were, if not hopeful and sanguine, utterly reckless, and thoroughly indifferent to the future.
CHAPTER XX. KILLALA
I will not weary my reader with an account of our debarkation, less remarkable as it was for the ‘pomp and circumstance of war’ than for incidents and accidents the most absurd and ridiculous—the miserable boats of the peasantry, the still more wretched cattle employed to drag our artillery and train-waggons, involving us in innumerable misfortunes and mischances. Never were the heroic illusions of war more thoroughly dissipated than by the scenes which accompanied our landing! Boats and baggage-waggons upset; here, a wild, half savage-looking fellow swimming after a cocked-hat—there, a group of ragged wretches scraping sea-weed from a dripping officer of the staff; noise, uproar, and confusion everywhere; smart aides-de-camp mounted on donkeys; trim field-pieces ‘horsed’ by a promiscuous assemblage of men, women, cows, ponies, and asses. Crowds of idle country-people thronged the little quay, and, obstructing the passages, gazed upon the whole with eyes of wonderment and surprise, but evidently enjoying all the drollery of the scene with higher relish than they felt interest in its object or success. This trait in them soon attracted all our notice, for they laughed at everything: not a caisson tumbled into the sea, not a donkey brought his rider to the ground, but one general shout shook the entire assemblage.
If want and privation had impressed themselves by every external sign on this singular people, they seemed to possess inexhaustible resources of good-humour and good spirits within. No impatience or rudeness on our part could irritate them; and even to the wildest and least civilised-looking fellow around, there was a kind of native courtesy and kindliness that could not fail to strike us.
A vague notion prevailed that we were their ‘friends’; and although many of them did not clearly comprehend why we had come, or what was the origin of the warm attachment between us, they were too lazy and too indifferent to trouble their heads about the matter. They were satisfied that there would be a ‘shindy’ somewhere, and somebody’s bones would get broken, and even that much was a pleasant and reassuring consideration; while others of keener mould revelled in plans of private vengeance against this landlord or that agent—small debts of hatred to be paid off in the day of general reckoning.
From the first moment nothing could exceed the tone of fraternal feeling between our soldiers and the people. Without any means of communicating their thoughts by speech, they seemed to acquire an instinctive knowledge of each other in an instant. If the peasant was poor, there was no limit to his liberality in the little he had. He dug up his half-ripe potatoes, he unroofed his cabin to furnish straw for litter, he gave up his only beast, and was ready to kill his cow, if asked, to welcome us. Much of this was from the native, warm, and impulsive generosity of their nature, and much, doubtless, had its origin in the bright hopes of future recompense inspired by the eloquent appeals of Neal Kerrigan, who, mounted on an old white mare, rode about on every side, addressing the people in Irish, and calling upon them to give all aid and assistance to ‘the expedition.’
The difficulty of the landing was much increased by the small space of level ground which intervened between the cliffs and the sea, and of which now the thickening crowd filled every spot. This and the miserable means of conveyance for our baggage delayed us greatly, so that, with a comparatively small force, it was late in the afternoon before we had all reached the shore.
We had none of us eaten since morning, and were not sorry, as we crowned the heights, to hear the drums beat for ‘cooking.’ In an inconceivably short, time fires blazed along the hills, around which, in motley groups, stood soldiers and peasantry mingled together, while the work of cooking and eating went briskly on, amid hearty laughter and all the merriment that mutual mistakes and misconceptions occasioned. It was a new thing for French soldiers to bivouac in a friendly country, and find themselves the welcome guests of a foreign people; and certainly, the honours of hospitality, however limited the means, could not have been performed with more of courtesy or good-will. Paddy gave his ‘all,’ with a generosity that might have shamed many a richer donor.
While the events I have mentioned were going forward, and a considerable crowd of fishermen and peasants had gathered about us, still it was remarkable that, except immediately on the coast itself, no suspicion of our arrival had gained currency, and even the country-people who lived a mile from the shore did not know who we were. The few who, from distant heights and headlands, had seen the ships, mistook them for English, and as all those who were out with fish or vegetables to sell were detained by the frigates, any direct information about us was impossible. So far, therefore, all might be said to have gone most favourably with us. We had safely escaped the often-menaced dangers of the Channel fleet; we had gained a secure and well-sheltered harbour; and we had landed our force not only without opposition, but in perfect secrecy. There were, I will not deny, certain little counterbalancing circumstances on the other side of the account not exactly so satisfactory. The patriot forces upon which we had calculated had no existence. There were neither money, nor stores, nor means of conveyance to be had; even accurate information as to the strength and position of the English was unattainable; and as to generals and leaders, the effective staff had but a most sorry representative in the person of Neal Kerrigan. This man’s influence over our general increased with every hour, and one of the first orders issued after our landing contained his appointment as an extra aide-de-camp on General Humbert’s staff.