CHAPTER XX.

The Crelaghs-The Kerry Colonels-French RevolutionEffects of Catholicity and Protestantism on Social and Mercantile Advancement-Penal Laws-Reminiscences of Father Grady-Birth of the Princess Royal-The Duke of Wellington.

O'CONNELL, in speaking of the improved administration of the law in Ireland, contrasted the present days with the wild times that preceded the repeal of the Penal Code.

"When I was a child," said he, "there was a horde of cow-stealers called the Crelaghs, inhabiting the mountains of Glancara; they used to steal cows in Galway and Clare, and sell them in this part of the country; and then, with admirable impartiality, they would steal cows here, and sell them in Clare or Galway. They were a terrible nuisance to the peasantry; but they received a sort of negative protection, that is, they were left unmolested by the

leading Protestant gentry, who then were popularly called Colonels.' To these Colonels' they occasionally made presents of cattle. Impunity emboldened them, and at length they stole fourteen cows from my father, who was in indifferent health at the time. This was intolerable, and my father collected a numerous party to surround the Crelaghs' hut one night, in order to take and surrender them to justice. The Crelaghs rushed out, and made a desperate defence; two of them were taken, but the rest escaped. My father shot one man through the hand in the scuffle; but the wounded fellow contrived to get off. Those who escaped still continued their depredations; and the power of the few Catholic gentry to check them was sadly crippled by the legal incapacity of Catholics to hold the commission of the peace.

"The Crelaghs resolved to avenge themselves upon my father, who got information one dark evening when out riding, that the gang lay in wait to murder him. His informant desired him to go home by a different road; he did so, and encountered the ruffians, who rushed down the hills to meet him, and fired. His mare, who was very wicked, kicked and threw him. Whilst he was down they fired again, and missed him a second time. He re

mounted, and striking spurs in his mare, was speedily beyond their reach, escaping several shots that were fired after him.

"It was not very easy for a Catholic to interest the law in his behalf, even against these pestilent vagabonds. But at length, by good luck, one of the gang robbed a Mr. Hasset, a Protestant gentleman, of his purse and dress wig upon the highway. This incited Mr. Hasset to spirited measures, amongst which was his getting himself made a magistrate, and using his justiceship to bring the rogues to punishment. After this, the gang was soon dispersed; three were taken and hanged—the rest escaped."

So prevalent was the belief in the absolute authority of "the Colonels" at that period, and so lightly was the power of the law esteemed in comparison, that a notion prevailed among the depredators who infested parts of Kerry, that a judicial sentence, in order to be valid, should be backed by the fiat of one or other of these local chiefs. A man was convicted of horse-stealing at Tralee, and appeared quite careless and unconcerned while the judge was passing sentence of death upon him. "Do you know what my lord is saying, you stupid omadhawn?" inquired a bystander of the prisoner. "To be sure I do!" returned the criminal, "but I

don't care what he says; for Colonel Blennerhassett is looking at me all the time, and he says nothing."

Shortly after the first accouchement of Colonel Blennerhassett's lady, a neighbour called at the house, and among other inquiries asked how "the Colonel" was?

"Which do you mean, the young Colonel or the ould one?" said the servant. The "young Colonel" was then somewhat less than a week old.

O'Connell was asked in the course of our afterdinner table-talk, whether he had read Thiers' work on the French Revolution?

"Yes," he replied, "and I do not very much like it. Thiers has a strong propensity to laud every one who was successful, and to disparage those who did not succeed. The best account of the French Revolution is in one of the volumes of Marmontel's Memoirs. Certainly," continued he, "that Revolution was grievously needed, although it was bought at the price of so much blood! The ecclesiastical abbés were a great public nuisance; they were chiefly cadets of noble families, who were provided for with sinecure revenues out of the abbey lands. The nobility engrossed the commissions in the army; and both the clergy and the nobility, although infinitely the richest bodies in the state, were exempt from taxes. The people were the

scapegoats-they were taxed for all; the burdens of the state were all thrown upon them, whilst its honours and emoluments were monopolised by the untaxed. This was a gross wrong—the Revolution has swept it away. It was highly creditable to the fidelity of the French Catholic clergy, that so few of them joined the enemies of religion at that trying time of terror. I question whether a dozen of the French Catholic bishops apostatised; and as for the vast mass of the parochial clergy, they afforded a most glorious and sublime example of devotion and faithfulness. Catholicity, I trust, will rebound against French Infidelity, as she is daily doing against English sectarianism. Ah! that article in the

Edinburgh Review!' I do like to see those philosophic gentry compelled to admit that the Catholic religion is perennial and immortal; and as vivacious in the nineteenth century of her existence, as she was on the day of her first institution!"

And he reverted to that celebrated article, of which he had previously so often spoken with delight and admiration.

"The writer," said I, "has drawn an invidious comparison between Edinburgh and Florence. He says that Florence has nearly stood still since the period of Luther's revolt, whereas Edinburgh is immensely enlarged and improved; and he attributes