who had no right to live in Ireland were the natives whose fathers had been there from the dawn of history.

Bantry Bay was more than once the scene of a visit from a French fleet on anti-English purposes intent. Every one knows of the expedition under General Hoche and Wolfe Tone in December, 1795; but more than a hundred years before that time-in April, 1689-a sharp engagement between French and English warships took place in those waters. The details, summarised from Campbell's Naval History, read thus:

The 29th of April (1689) Admiral Herbert, being on the south coast of Ireland, by his scouts discovered the French fleet, and next day had intelligence that they were gone into Baltimore, being forty-four sail; but on pursuing them the scouts had a sight of them to the west of Cape Clear, and upon steering after them, found they were got into Bantry Bay. The admiral lay off the bay all night, and next morning stood in, where he found the enemy at anchor; but they soon got under sail, bearing down upon them (the English) in a line composed of twentyeight men of war and five fire-ships. When they came within musket-shot of the " Defiance," who led the van, the French admiral (Perrault) put out the signal of battle, which was begun by firing their great and small shot at the "Defiance" and the rest as they came into line. The English made several boards to gain the wind, or at least to engage them closer. Finding that way of working very disadvantageous, Admiral Herbert stood off to sea, as well to have got his ships into a line as to have gained the wind of the enemy, but found them so cautious in bearing down that he could not get an opportunity to do it, so he continued battering upon a stretch till five in the afternoon, when the French admiral stood into the bay. The (English) admiral's ship and some others being disabled in their rigging, could not follow them, but continued for some time longer before the bay; and the admiral gave them a gun at parting.

In this action Captain George Aylmer, of the " Portland," with the lieutenant and ninety-four seamen, were killed, and about two hundred and fifty wounded. On the 7th of May the admiral got into Plymouth with the fleet.

Clearly this was a French victory; but English writers do not like to call it by that name.

The fleet despatched by the French Directory in

the latter part of December, 1795, with a military force designed to aid a projected Irish rising against English rule, met no enemy on their way, but were dispersed and wrecked by tempestuous weather. Such vessels of the expedition as got into Bantry Bay remained there for nearly a week-and a week is a great deal in war time-rolling and straining at their anchors, without attempting to put on shore the soldiery they had brought with them-they were awaiting the arrival of one of their missing vessels, the "Fraternitie" in which was General Hoche, the commander of the expedition. On board the "Indomptable," in the bay was Theobald Wolfe Tone, almost heart-broken with anxiety and vexation as day after day went by without bringing in certain of the ships which had left Brest on the 16th of the month, but had parted company in the furious storm which burst upon them. A few extracts from the diary penned by Tone at this time will illustrate the situation :

December 22nd (1795).—This morning, at eight, we have neared Bantry Bay considerably, but the fleet is terribly scattered; no news of the Fraternitié. . . . All rests now upon Grouchy, and I hope he may turn out well; he has a glorious game in his hands, if he has spirit and talent to play it.

us.

December 23rd.-Last night it blew a heavy gale from the eastward, with snow, so that the mountains are covered this morning. It is to be observed that of the thirty-two points of the compass the east is precisely the most unfavourable to Oh, that we were once ashore, let what might come after; I am sick to the very soul of this suspense. I am now so near the shore that I can, in a manner, touch the sides of Bantry Bay with my right and my left hand, yet God knows whether I shall ever tread again on Irish ground. . . . I could tear my flesh with rage and vexation, but that advances nothing, and so I hold my tongue in general, and devour my melancholy as I can.

Next day came a gleam of hope to the heart of this well-nigh despairing and desperate man; but it did not last long. The wind, with what an Irish Nationalist

might regard as a malignant persistency, continued adverse, as if it were English manufacture, and had been sent straight across from London. The diary

thus continues :

Dec. 24th.-Well, at last I believe we are about to disembark; God knows how I long for it. But this infernal easterly wind continues without remorse, and though we have been under weigh three or four hours, we do not seem, to my eyes, to have gained one hundred yards in a straight line.

Dec. 25th.-. . . The wind continues right ahead, so that it is absolutely impossible to work up to the landing place, and God knows when it will change.

Dec. 26th.-Last night, at half after six o'clock, in a heavy gale of wind, still from the east, we were surprised by the admiral's frigate running under our quarter and hailing the Indomptable, with orders to cut our cable and put to sea instantly.

Certainly we have been persecuted by a strange fatality from the very night of our departure to this hour. We have lost two commanders-in-chief ; of four admirals not one remains; we have lost one ship of the line, that we know of, and probably many others of which we know nothing; we have been now six days in Bantry Bay, within five hundred yards of the shore, without being able to effectuate a landing; we have been dispersed four times in four days, and at this moment, of fortythree sail, of which the expedition consisted, we can muster of all sizes but fourteen.

Dec. 27th.-. . . At half after four, there being every appearance of a stormy night, three vessels cut their cables and put to sea. The Indomptable, having with great difficulty weighed one anchor, we were forced at length to cut the cable of the other and make the best of our way out of the Bay, being followed by the whole of our little squadron, now reduced to ten sail, of which seven are of the line, one frigate, and two corvettes or luggers. So miserably ended the French expedition to Bantry Bay. The subsequent career and tragic fate of Wolfe

1To memorise the expedition and honour its Irish leader, the Town Commissioners of Bantry, in 1898, the centenary year of the Irish insurrection-gave to the market square of their town the name of "Wolfe Tone Square." The motion was made by the Parliamentary representative of the district, Mr. James Gilhooly; it was seconded by Mr. Donovan, T.C., and cordially adopted.

Tone, and the outbreak of the Irish insurrection in 1798, do not come within the scope of this work; but numerous recent publications, at popular prices, bring the record within the reach of every patriotic Irishman.

Here I turn back from the period of those naval operations to deal with the events of an earlier time, when, in the later part of the 16th century and the opening years of the 17th, Ireland was being swept with fire and sword by the soldiery of England, and the part of the country with which these pages are specially concerned was made the scene of horrors and sufferings indescribable.

T

CHAPTER II.

HE story of how the territories of Bere and Bantry passed from the hands of the O'Sullivans forms a chapter of Irish history which I propose to outline briefly in the following pages. The overthrow, dispossession and dispersion of the Sept date from the closing years of the reign of Queen Elizabeth. From the beginning to the end of that reign there was an almost continuous tangle of wars between France, Spain, and England, largely due to events arising out of the "Reformation," then in its earlier stages; and Ireland, refusing to accept the new doctrines and form of worship proffered to her by Henry the Eighth and his daughter, was inevitably drawn into the trouble. The suppression of the monasteries and seizure of the Church revenues in England had enriched whole swarms of needy nobles, sleek courtiers, and adventurous soldiers; and there was still a field for such profitable operations in Ireland. The opportunity was availed of to the utmost. Of the ultimate result-as regards the shock of conflict-there could hardly be any doubt. England was a consolidated country, under a centralised government, with an army, a navy, and a national exchequer; Ireland had none of these things; she had chiefs, and bards, and learned churchmen; she had warriors too, but their prowess had been for the most part exercised in inter-tribal or provincial conflicts, and as regards military science they were behind the age. Touch England-even in those days-at the remotest point of her territory, coast, creek, or headland, and the thrill was felt at the centre of her national life: