The Catalpa Expedition/Chapter 2

CHAPTER II

FENIAN HISTORY

"This is serious business now," said a clever English, literary man when he heard of the Fenian organization. "The Irish have got hold of a good name this time; the Fenians will last."

The Fenians were the ancient Irish militia organized in the third century by Fionn or Finn, who is said to be the Fingal of Ossian. In Scott's "Antiquary," Hector M'Intyre, jealous for the honor and the genuineness of Ossian's songs of Selma, recites a part of one in which Ossian asks St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, whether he ventures to compare his psalms "to the tales of the bare-armed Fenians."

"There can be no doubt," writes Justin McCarthy, "that the tales of the bare-armed Fenians were passed from mouth to mouth of the Celts in Ireland and the highlands of Scotland, from a time long before that at which any soothsayer or second-sighted sage could have dreamed of the landing of Strongbow and the perfidy of the wife of Breffni. There was an air of Celtic antiquity and of mystery about the name of Fenian which merited the artistic approval given to it."

The Fenian agitation commenced in 1858, following the Phoenix clubs in the sequence of the secret associations which have been so prominent in Irish history. Had it not been for the American civil war, it is quite likely that it would have lacked the fame which it subsequently won, but the strained relations between England and America inspired the hope that war between the two great nations might follow, and that this would afford an auspicious opportunity for the uprising for Ireland's independence, which has ever been uppermost in the minds of the Irish patriots. Then the war had created the Irish-American soldiers, who were inclined to consecrate their energies to a new purpose in behalf of their native land.

The movement was more promising than any which had preceded it. In the first place, as Mr. McCarthy points out, "It arose and grew into strength without the patronage or the help of any of those who might be called the natural leaders of the people. In 1798 and in 1848, the rebellion bore unmistakably what may be called the 'follow-my-leader character.' Some men of great ability, or strength of purpose, or high position, or all attributes combined, made themselves leaders, and the others followed. But Fenianism seemed to have sprung out of the very soil of Ireland itself. Its leaders were not men of high position, or distinguished name, or proved ability. They were not of aristocratic birth; they were not orators; they were not powerful writers. It was ingeniously arranged on a system by which all authority converged towards one centre, and those farthest away from the seat of direction knew proportionately less and less about the nature of the plans. They had to obey instructions only, and it was hoped that by this means weak or doubtful men would not have it in their power prematurely to reveal, to betray, or to thwart the purposes of their leaders."

The organization flourished in America, where the provisional government was established, and it soon had its ramifications all over Great Britain as well as Ireland. England's secret agents began to report the visitation of mysterious strangers to Ireland, strangers with Celtic features but with the bearing of American soldiers. This did not fail to attract the attention of the English government and the English newspapers. In "Saunders' News" I find an impolite reference to "the imitation Yankee rowdies who infest the streets of Dublin." The spy system flourished, and when James Stephens, the head centre of Fenianism, arrived in Ireland, he was arrested in company with James Kickham, the poet. Stephens was committed to Richmond Prison, Dublin, early in 1865, but before he had been many days in confinement he was released. Of the man who accomplished the liberation of Stephens there will be much said in ensuing chapters. The escape produced a prodigious sensation and had the effect of convincing the Irish peasantry that Stephens was the type of leader who would be adequate to the great task which had been aspired to,—the raising of the flag of an Irish republic.

Meanwhile the Fenians in America were divided on the policy of invading Canada, which was urged by some, while others pressed for operations in Ireland. A small body of men finally crossed the Niagara River on the night of May 31, 1866, and drove back the Canadian volunteers, but the United States government enforced the neutrality of the frontier line, unexpectedly to the Fenians, arresting several of the leaders on the American side. The Canadians hurried up reinforcements. Several Fenians were captured and shot, and the ill-advised invasion scheme resulted in a miserable fiasco.

Once more Stephens, who had returned to New York, declared his purpose of resuming operations in Ireland, and many Irish-Americans went across the Atlantic to await his appearance at the head of an army of insurgents. It was their presence alone which led to the poor attempt at rebellion which was finally made, for not only were the peasantry unarmed and unprepared for a war, but most of the people of the country were opposed to the wild scheme, and the Catholic clergymen were everywhere attempting to avert the certain disaster by discouraging the secret organization and the proposed insurrection.

Stephens, who was looked for to lead the men who sought deliverance from the English government, never appeared. Those who were true desperately resolved to give some sign of their sincerity. There were many wild plots, a few conflicts with the police. The government was informed of them in advance, and none were successful. The habeas corpus act was suspended, and this action was promptly followed up by arrests, court-martials, imprisonments, and banishments to the penal colony at Australia.

"In March, 1867," writes McCarthy, "an attempt at a general rising was made in Ireland. It was a total failure; the one thing on which the country had to be congratulated was that it failed so completely and so quickly as to cause little bloodshed. Every influence combined to minimize the waste of life. The snow fell that spring as it had scarcely ever fallen before in the soft, mild climate of Ireland. Silently, unceasingly it came down all day long and all night long; it covered the roads and fields; it made the gorges of the mountains untenable, and the gorges of the mountains were to be the encampments and the retreats of the Fenian insurgents. The snow fell for many days and nights, and when it ceased falling the insurrectionary movement was over. The insurrection was literally buried in that unlooked-for snow."