This was the year the Irish Rebellion took place. The French army came to assist the United Irishmen. The fleet from France landed on the west coast of Ireland, and set out on their ill-fated journey across Leitrim and Longford with Col. Humbert leading his troops against the mighty British forces. Along the way, Irish pikemen joined forces with him in a valiant attempt to win freedom for Ireland. They came with pikes, and stones and whatever they could fight with, and marched to Ballinamuck, next town over from Drumlish, the home of Mary Farrell.

It was in the Co. Longford that the great drama of 1798 was concluded. The rebellion of 98 had been quenched in blood when Humbert, a Brigadier General in the French Army, organised an expedition and sailing from Brest landed at Killala early in August of 98. He captured Killala and Ballina without much resistance and at Castlebar he completely defeated the English who fled in such disorder that their rout is still called the Races of Castlebar. Humbert then decided to march to Dublin and incidentally to support the insurgents who had taken up arms in Granard. He marched to Colloney from Colloney to Boyle, crossing the river Shannon north on Carrick-on-Shannon. The night before the battle of Ballinamuck he encamped in the village of Cloone in Co. Leitrim. Humbert had to abandon some of his artillery in Cloone owing, it is said, to a spy called Neary having stolen the chains.

General Lake with a large body of troops hung on Humberts rear while Lord Cornwallis marched from Dublin with all the available troops in Leinster. When Humbert reached Ballinamuck he was confronted by Lord Cornwallis and his army while on his rear was General Lake. He decided to make a stand to maintain the honour of French arms and fought gallantly for two hours. Humbert and his men surrendered and were made prisoners of war but no mercy was shown to the unfortunate insurgents, 500 of who were killed. General Blake, the insurgent General, was hanged on the field after the battle.

THE BATTLE OF BALLINAMUCK

by James O'Neill of Crowdrummin

The true story of our people's long struggle against oppression and exploitation

must now be put into print and read, so that the youth of Ireland can appreciate

their origins and take a pride in building a better Ireland on a firm foundation

of national independence and democratic control of our resources.Only with full

control of our own affairs, and industrialisation based on our natural resources

(something that has never been done, except in a very small way) can we build

a secure future for our children. The driving force to accomplish this task comes

from a pride in our past and a strong national cultural identity. In his letter to my

mother James O'Neill expressed the hope that his traditional history would

"help to stimulate the rising generations to maintain the same " amor patriae

as their ancestors".

Those who seek a fuller account of the Battle of Ballinamuck, and of what

happened to the wagon and cannon chains at Cloone, should consult

Richard Hayes's masterpiece, "The Last Invasion of Ireland - When Connacht

Rose".

He has evaluated all the sources, Irish, English and French, including the oral

account of James O'Neill, whom he describes as "a splendid old man of good

memory and fine intelligence".

The people of County Longford suffered greatly at the hands of the English in

1798. Five hundred men were slaughtered on Sean-Mhullach even after the

formal surrender, on the orders of General Lake, the "Butcher of Wexford".

The English have never recognised Irish soldiers who resisted their rule as

prisoners of war. The women and children suffered both in the loss of their

menfolk, including non-combatants, and from English terror as the Yeomanry

looted and burned their humble cabins throughout most of the county.

This was in stark contrast with the conduct of the insurgents. Joseph Stock, the Protestant Bishop of Killala, and a loyalist, paid them the tribute of saying that

"not a drop of blood was shed by the Connacht rebels except in the field of war".

The Irish Scholar, Sean O Donnabháin, (1806-1861), who worked throughout

Ireland on the Ordnance Survey some years after these events, recounts a

spell of work he did among the people of the Slíabh Cáirbre area of North

Longford. He found that the Rising and its aftermath had left its memories

and its scars upon them. In a letter from Granada dated May 15, 1837, he

describes the people of this area as being "poor and, what is worse, kept

down by the police. They are the civilest and most obliging people I have

ever met. Uoládh gach aon an t-adh mar a gheibheann se e."

Our forefathers, despite all their tribulations, set high standards for us in many

ways. By giving our own children a true appreciation of their Irish heritage

we shall prove ourselves worthy sons and daughters.

" And true men, be you men,

Like those of ninety-eight".

The Rising of the Moon

(Air: The Wearing of the Green).

Oh! then tell me, Sean O'Farrell,

Tell me why you hurry so?

"Hush, mo bhúachaill, hush and listen,"

And his cheeks were all aglow.

"I bear orders from the Captain

Get you ready quick and soon

For the pikes must be together

By the rising of the moon."

Oh! then tell me, Sean O'Farrell,

Where the gathering is to be?

"In the old spot by the river

Right well known to you and me.

One word more - for signal token,

Whistle up the marching tune,

With your pike upon your shoulder,

By the rising of the moon "

Out from many a mud-wall cabin

Eyes were watching through the night,

Many a manly breast was throbbing

For the blessed warning light

Murmurs passed along the valleys

Like the Banshee's lonely croon,

And a thousand blades were flashing

At the rising of the moon.

There beside the singing Aver

That dark mass of men were seen-

Far above the shining weapons

Hung their own beloved green.

"Death to every foe and traitor!

Forward! strike the marching tune

And hurrah, my boys, for freedom!

Tis the rising of the moon."

Well they fought for poor old Ireland,

And full bitter was their fate

Oh! what glorious pride and sorrow

Fill the name of ninety-eight!

Yet, thank God, e'en still are beating

Hearts in manhood's burning noon

Who would follow in their footsteps

At the rising of the moon!