The
liberation of James Stephens and the short-lived insurrection that
filled the snow-capped hills with hardy fugitives, six months before,
had both occasioned deep excitement in England; but nothing that
Fenianism had yet accomplished acted in the same bewildering manner
on the English mind. In the heart of one of their largest cities, in
the broad daylight, openly and undisguisedly, a band of Irishmen had
appeared in arms against the Queen's authority, and set the power and
resources of the law at defiance. They had rescued a co-conspirator
from the grasp of the government, and slain an officer of the law in
the pursuit of their object. Within a few minutes' walk of barracks
and military depots,--in sight of the royal ensign that waved over
hundreds of her Majesty's defenders, a prison van had been stopped and
broken open, and its defenders shot at and put to flight. Never had
the English people heard of so audacious a proceeding--never did they
feel more insulted. From every corner of the land the cry swelled, up
for vengeance fierce and prompt. Victims there should be; blood--Irish
blood--the people _would_ have; nor were they willing to wait long for
it. It might be that, falling in hot haste, the sword of Justice might
strike the innocent, and not the guilty; it might be that, in the
thirst for vengeance, the restraints of humanity would be forgotten;
but the English nature, now thoroughly aroused, cared little for such
considerations.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35