This success of the loyalists saved Waterford and Kilkenny from anything more than local riots; and Moore, moving up from Fermoy and Clonmel, soon threatened the rebel county from the west. The beaten peasants glutted their revenge on Protestant prisoners near New Ross; and a general massacre of prisoners at Wexford was averted only by the rapid advance of Moore. Meanwhile, Father John, moving into County Wicklow with a force some 30,000 strong, sought to break down the defence at Arklow. But that important post on the River Avoca was stoutly held by General Needham with some 1,500 men, mostly militia and yeomen. There, too, the priests led on the peasants with a zeal that scorned death. One of the peasant leaders rushed up to a gun, thrust his cap into it, and shouted, "Come along, boys; her mouth is stopped." The next moment he and his men were blown to pieces. Disciplined valour gained the day (9th June), and John and his crusaders retired to Vinegar Hill. His colleague, Father Michael Murphy, who had claimed to be able to catch Protestant bullets, was killed by a cannon-shot; and this may have decided the rebels to retreat.

The British Guards had now arrived, to the inexpressible relief of Camden and his advisers. Beset by reports of a general rising in Ulster and by the furious protests of loyalists against the inaction of Pitt, the Lord Lieutenant had held on his way, acting with energy but curbing the policy of vengeance, so that, as he informed Pitt, he was now the most unpopular man in Ireland. Nevertheless, before he left her shores, he had the satisfaction to see his measures crowned with success. The converging moves of Lake, Needham, Dundas, and Johnstone upon Vinegar Hill cooped up the rebels on that height; and on 21st June the royal troops stormed the slopes with little loss. The dupes of Father John no longer believed in his miraculous powers. The survivors broke away southwards, but then doubled back into the mountains of Wicklow. The war now became a hunt, varied by savage reprisals. Father John was hanged on 26th June. By his barbarities he had ended the dream of United Ireland. Few of the malcontents of Antrim and Down obeyed the call to arms of the United Irishmen early in June; and the risings in those counties soon flickered out. Religious bigotry enabled Dublin Castle once more to triumph.

Pitt was vehemently blamed by Irish loyalists for his apathy at the crisis. The accusation, quite natural among men whose families were in hourly danger, was unjust. As we have seen, even before the arrival of Camden's request, he took steps to send off 5,000 men. As the Duke of York and Dundas cut down that number to 3,000, and endeavoured to prevent any more being sent, they were responsible for the despatch of an inadequate force. If the French detachments intended for Ireland had arrived early in June, they must have carried all before them. But it was not until 22nd August that General Humbert, with 1,100 men, landed at Killala. Even so his little force was believed to be the vanguard of a large army, a fact which explains the revival of rebellion at the end of the summer.

Not until 1st September did Pitt hear this alarming news. At once he ordered all possible reinforcements to proceed to Ireland. There was need of them. The Irish militiamen under Lake and Hutchinson who opposed the French at Castlebar rushed away in wild panic from one-fourth of their numbers (27th August). Such were "the Castlebar Races." Probably the Irishmen were disaffected; for many of them joined the enemy. Cornwallis proceeded to the front, and with 11,000 men made head against the rebels and the French. The latter were now but 800 strong, and after a most creditable stand finally surrendered with the honours of war (8th September). Cornwallis issued a tactful bulletin,[501] commending his troops for their meritorious exertions and trusting to their honour not to commit acts of cruelty against their deluded fellow subjects. In point of fact 11,000 men with difficulty brought 800 to surrender and then gave themselves up to retaliation on the rebels. Fortunately the French Directory sent only small parties of raiders. A month later, Wolfe Tone, with a squadron, appeared off Lough Swilly; but the French ships being overpowered by Sir John Warren, Tone was captured, taken to Dublin, and cut his throat in order to escape the ignominy of a public hanging. Another small French squadron entered Killala Bay late in October, but had to make for the open. Thus flickered out a flame which threatened to shrivel up British rule in Ireland.

What causes contributed to this result? Certainly not the activity and resourcefulness of Pitt and his colleagues; for their conduct at the crisis was weak and tardy. The Duke of York and Dundas must primarily be blamed for the despatch of inadequate reinforcements; but Pitt ought to have overruled their decision. Perhaps the Cabinet believed England to be the objective of Bonaparte and the fleet at Brest; but, thanks to the rapid growth of the Volunteer Movement, England was well prepared to meet an invading force and to quell the efforts of the malcontent Societies. In Ireland the outlook was far more gloomy. After the resignation of Abercromby, Camden and the officials of Dublin Castle were in a state of panic. Pitt did well finally to send over Cornwallis; but that step came too late to influence the struggle in Leinster. In truth the saving facts of the situation were the treachery of informers at Dublin and the diversion of the efforts of Bonaparte towards the East. The former event enabled Camden to crush the rising in Dublin; the latter left thousands of brave Irishmen a prey to the false hopes which the French leaders had designedly fostered, Barras having led Wolfe Tone to believe that France would fight on for the freedom of Ireland. The influence of Bonaparte told more and more against an expedition to her shores; but the Irish patriots were left in the dark, for their rising would serve to distract the energies of England, while Bonaparte won glory in the East. To save appearances, the French Government sent three small expeditions in August to October; but they merely prolonged the agony of a dying cause, and led that deeply wronged people to ask what might not have happened if the promises showered on Wolfe Tone had been made good.

It is recorded of William of Orange, shortly before his intended landing in England, that, on hearing of the march of Louis XIV's formidable army into the Palatinate, he serenely smiled at his rival's miscalculation. Louis sated his troops with plunder and lost a crown for James II. Similarly we may imagine the mental exultation of Pitt on hearing that Bonaparte had gone the way of Alexander the Great and Mark Antony. Camden and he knew full well that Ireland was the danger spot of the British Empire, and that the half of the Toulon force could overthrow the Protestant ascendancy. Some sense of the magnitude of the blunder haunted Napoleon at St. Helena; for he confessed to Las Casas: "If, instead of the expedition to Egypt, I had undertaken that against Ireland, what could England have done now?" In a career, illumined by flashes of genius, but wrecked by strange errors, the miscalculation of the spring of 1798 was not the least fatal. For of all parts of the British Empire Ireland was that in which the Sea Power was most helpless when once a French corps d'armée had landed.


CHAPTER XVII