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Continued from previous page
Pat Purcell Papers. Part 5- Not We From Kings But Kings From Us [
Letter dated 1931 in the PPP, continued ] . Having now
finished the task of genealogist which my daughters imposed upon me, I
shall proceed to another subject which they have asked me to touch upon,
viz, some personal recollections of my childhood and of the stormy
period of the Irish Rebellion. Almost the
first intimation of it which reached us was the fact of my discovery
during my childish rambles a large bundle of iron pike handles concealed
under a hedge. My father
taking alarm made further investigations and took very energetic
measures, communicated with Government, and raised a Yeomanry corps,
which he commanded. After some
time this corps, with other troops, marched to Castle Colner, and fought
there, as also at Kilcomney. The day they
left Leighlin Bridge we females and my brother (then an infant) were
sent to Carlow for protection till the return of our defenders. After
some days passed in dreadful suspense, an express messenger arrived with
the welcome intelligence that the loyalist troops had conquered and were
returning in triumph. My mother
immediately ordered the carriage to convey us back to Steurat’s lodge,
in order to meet my father, who had escaped injury we found almost
miraculously, the feather of his cap having been shot away, and his
pantaloon having been torn by a pike. Our
clergyman, Mr. Dowling, met us at the entrance of Leighlin Bridge, and
proposed particularly as it was Sunday, that we should adjourn to a
large room in what was called the Garrison and offer up thanksgiving for
the happy news. As we were
proceeding there a gentleman rode furiously up and exclaimed, “Twenty
thousand rebels are within a mile of the town,” then galloped past. This
intelligence caused terrible dismay among the assembled group.
Fortunately the lieutenant and twenty of my father’s corps had been sent
on in advance of the others, and knowing that these could not be far
behind, they determined to defend the place to the last extremity; the
bridge being very narrow they hoped to be able to hold out till succour
should arrive, and accordingly set about barricades. It was resolved
that all the women and children should be placed in the upper story of
an old castle partly in ruins, situated near the bridge. This old
castle was noted in our local history as having sustained a siege in the
time of Cromwell, when it was garrisoned by some retainers of the
Ormonde family under the command of Theobald Butler, but at the very
time of the appearance of the Parliamentary troops he happened to be
absent, and his wife took his post, and defended the castle so well that
it held out for a considerable time. A mound was,
however, raised by command of Cromwell, at the opposite side of the
river, on which guns were placed which commanded the castle so
effectually that it could no longer hold out. The garrison
then made their escape by a subterranean passage said to have
communicated with Clogrenan. The castle was demolished with the
exception of one tower in which we were placed in 1798 on the occasion I
mention. Although but
a child of six years, I remember the night passed in it distinctly. Hour
after hour went by in terrible suspense until the morning broke, when,
instead of the expected and dreaded foe, the red coats of the soldiers
were seen advancing. I cannot describe the transports of joy that
ensued. It was discovered that a false alarm had been raised, suggested
by a foolish wager. The yeomanry
corps was accompanied by a squadron of German Legion, then serving in
Ireland, the officers of which my father entertained at Steuart’s Lodge.
I remember being kept awake at night by the singing of the guard of
German soldiers stationed round the house, who passed the hours of their
watch in this delightful amusement. It is a
curious circumstance that as a set-off to the false alarm I have just
mentioned, on one occasion my father unwittingly caused a similar one to
the rebels which was the means of saving out town from an attack. He proposed
one evening to the other officers, whilst at supper, that they should
order the drum to beat the alarm in order to ascertain if the men were
on alert. This was accordingly done, and it afterwards transpired that a
large force of rebels had marched within half a mile of the town hoping
to surprise it, but hearing the drums concluded that they had been
discovered, and that the military were prepared to oppose them; they
therefore retreated. These were
the only episodes of that time which personally affected our family. The
terrible scenes that were enacted in other parts of Ireland and that are
now matters of history were happily excluded, from our neighbourhood and
county. I may
however, say that two of my nearest relatives fell victims, though
bloodless ones, to the terrors of that fearful period. These were my
uncle and aunt Whelan. [to be
continued, page 30 of 57 pages].
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