the elements, on witnessing the cruel, heartless, and oppressive
purposes of man. But, what a scene presented itself to O'Regan, on going
forth to witness the proceedings which were then about to take place on
this woeful day!

Entering the northern end of this wild collection of sheelings was
seen a posse of bailiffs, drivers, constables, keepers, and all that
hard-hearted class of ruffians that constitute the staff of a land agent
upon occasions similar to this. Immediately behind these followed a body
of Orange yeomanry, dressed in regimentals, and with fire-arms--each
man carrying thirty rounds of ball cartridge. We say Orange yeomen
advisedly, because, at the period we speak of, Roman Catholics were not
admitted into the yeomanry, unless, perhaps, one in a corps; and even
out of ten corps, perhaps, you might not find the ten exceptions. When
we add to this the fact, that every Protestant young man was then
an Orangeman, and that a strong, relentless feeling of religious and
political hatred subsisted between them and the Catholic party, we think
that there are few, even among our strongest Conservatives, if any,
who would attempt to defend the inhuman policy of allowing one party of
Irishmen, stimulated by the worst passions, to be let loose thus armed
upon defenceless men, whom, besides, they looked upon and treated as
enemies.

The men in question, who were known by the sobriquet of Deaker's
Dashers, were, in point of fact, the terror of every one in the country
who was not an Orangeman, no matter what his creed or conduct might
be. They were to a man guided by the true Tory principle, not only of
supporting Protestantism, but of putting down Popery; and yet, with
singular inconsistency, they were seldom or never seen within a church
door, all their religion consisting in giving violent and offensive
toasts, and their loyalty in playing party tunes, singing Orange songs,
meeting in Orange lodges, and executing the will of some such oppressor
as M'Clutchy, who was by no means an exaggerated specimen of the Orange
Tory.

Deaker's Dashers were commanded on this occasion by a little squat
figure, all belly, with a short pair of legs at one end, and a little
red, fiery face, that looked as if it would explode--at the other.
The figure was mounted on horseback, and as it and its party gallantly
entered this city of cabins, it clapped its hands on its side, to
impress the enemy, no doubt, with a due sense of its mili