Book of Ryans - Rising Nationalism
Morning of the Rising
The 1798 rebellion started in Wexford and continued onto County Mayo, Tipperary, and other western counties; and although the rising ended in the East, guerrilla warfare continued for several months after the collapse of the revolution in Wexford. The insurgents in Tipperary continued to hold out in the hopes that military aid would be provided by France; however, realizing it would not come, the men in Mullinahone decided to move forward with their plans for a massive revolt in the county.
The rebellion occurred on the Feast of St. James in 1798. Earlier in the year the English soldiers had seized the peasants' guns, so the insurgents were forced to use pikes for this uprising. The leader of this group was Thomas Neill and his chief aides were men bearing names like Power, Meagher, MacCormick, Ryan and Bolger.[1] On the 23rd, the rebels attacked a stagecoach in the town of Mullinahone which was the prearranged signal to begin a general revolt. As the news of this attack occurred, about 600 men converged at a place called Nine Mile House where they attacked the English barracks. However, Thomas Neill betrayed the members of the rebellion and informed the English of the surprise attack. The rebels, led by Meagher, fell back into the hills of Corrig-Moclear that overlooked Mass Rock, a place where many of their ancestors worshipped through a century of the Penal Laws.
The Irish continued to fight the military; however, because the Yoeman had guns and the men of Tipperary carried only pikes and their fists, the revolution quickly evaporated as men escaped to the safety of the hills. During this time, Ireland was occupied with a force of 125,000 men loyal to the Crown of England, and these forces eventually silenced the pockets of resistance.
Later Developments
18th and 19th Centuries
His eyes may never see the blue
of Ireland's April sky
His ear may never listen to
The song of Lark on high,
But deep within his Irish heart
Are cloisters, dark and dim,
No human hand can wrench apart
And the lark still sings for him.
from William Henry Drummond's
`Dreams of Irish Immigrants in the
New World'
The transportation of large numbers of Irish into the colonies flowed heavily through most of the 18th and 19th centuries; inevitably this flow of bodies into the American and Canadian colonies resulted in a backlash of negative feelings towards them. It was noted that Colonial Americans viewed the Irish race with contempt: "the poor Irish...as belonging to the race of savages."[2] Charles O'Conner, an early 19th century columnist, agreed with this assessment and further commented that "this is an English colony and its people inherit from their ancestors the true Saxon contempt for everything that is Irish."[3] Charles Latrobe in 1832 wrote an amusing commentary that probably reflected the viewpoint of many Americans about how they viewed the Irish:
Here come a load of Irish. They land upon the wharves of New York in rags and open-knee'd breeches, with their raw looks and bare necks, they flourish their cudgels, throw up their hats and cry, -"hurrah for Gineral Jackson," They get drunk and kick up a row; - lend their forces to any passing disturbances and make early acquaintance with the interior of the lock ups.[4]
These early years were also very difficult for the Catholic Church because Catholic priests were unavailable to provide ministerial duties for their growing parishes. To overcome this problem, hundreds of priests were imported, largely from Ireland and France, to meet the ministerial needs of an expanding Church. Even though early immigration records were not properly maintained, surviving U.S. Immigration papers recorded several Ryans entering the United States as Catholic priests:
Reverend Michael Ryan, age 60, single, fair in complexion, sailed the Mechanic of Baltimore in 1803.
Reverend Mr. Ryan, single, sailed from Dublin to New York, July 6, 1811.
Eighteenth century United States was predominantly Protestant, and Roman Catholics formed a very small portion of the total population. Catholics were often not welcomed in the emerging colonial towns, and when Jean Louis Anne Madeleine Lefebure de Chevrus became bishop of Boston in 1808, it was his intent to replace this hatred with a more positive view of Catholics.
To help him achieve his objective Chevrus enlisted the aid of Francis Matigan to create an "acceptable church in Yankee Boston,[5] and to find others to help them realize their dream. These two missionaries were the only ministers of their faith in early 19th century New England, but because of their efforts they were able to reverse many of the ill-feelings towards papists. As Dolores Liptak noted, "only in 1817 would the first priest, Dennis Ryan, be ordained specifically for Boston,"[6]
and this was through the intensive efforts of Chevrus and Matigan to develop positive feelings towards Catholics.
Bishop Chevrus also actively encouraged other religious orders to locate in Boston, and one of the first to heed his call were two nuns from county Tipperary. They were the daughters of James Ryan, and after their noviceship at the Ursuline convent in Canada they went to Boston and founded an Ursuline order. Mary of St. Joseph, the order's first Superioress, and her younger sister, Mary of Magdalen, were the two founding nuns, and in 1818 a cousin, Catherine Molynaux, and another sister, Margaret Ryan, joined them in Boston to minister to the Catholic residents of this port city. Another niece of the three Ryan foundresses, Catherine Quirk, also joined the order. The remaining church records noted that Miss Quirk died in 1834 after the convent was destroyed by fire. Apparently the good will that Chevrus attempted to create was fragile because the convent was destroyed by an angry mob. A priest-writer later wrote that, "There are few things more shameful in the States than the way in which the magistrates connived at this outbreak of fanaticism, and the government afterwards persistently refused compensation."[7]
Irish immigration during the early part of the 19th century was relatively light in comparison to the flight from Ireland during the Great Famine. In 1845 alone, the Famine's first year, 50,207 Irish men, women and children emigrated to the United States, while during the entire 1820s, 44,106 had only emigrated, most of which were probably of Protestant origin. This wave of emigrants helped lead to the expansion of settlers in the American north and west.
A New Century
Still, still in those wilds might young liberty rally,
And send her strong short over the mountain and valley,
The star of the west might yet rise in its glory,
And the land that was darkest be brightest in story,
I too shall be gone, but my name shall be spoken
When Erin awakes and her fetters are broken.
Jeremiah Callanan
`Goygene Berra'
Ireland for the most part was quiet after the turn of the century, although there were faint rumors of unrest in the counties of Limerick, Tipperary, and Waterford. These disturbances grew louder by 1803, particularly after outsiders entered these southwest and seized ejected tenants' lands. These displaced farmers moved to the towns to seek work as common laborers, or in some cases sought emigration as a means to change their fortune. One farmer from Bantry, James Ryan, emigrated with his wife in 1803 to the United States, and their departure may have been the result of land confiscations.
Tension heightened over the next several years, until 1808 when civil disorder erupted in the South again. To find ways to silence these activities, the Duke of Wellington ventured into the countryside to uncover secret activities that were stirring the seeds of rebellion. His diaries showed that on one occasion he secretly went to northern Tipperary to find the whereabouts of James Ryan. Ryan was a member of the Shaunavest party, a political party composed mostly of lower order Catholics. This group was thought to be an instigator of disorder in Tipperary and the surrounding counties. The Shaunavest, also called Dingers, often found themselves in conflict with the Caravets, or Dousers. The Caravets, on the other hand, were composed of Protestants and the Catholic upper class. The confrontations which occurred between these two groups (which were often drawn between family lines) were sometimes referred to as the "Ryan vs. Dwyers or Bootashes vs. Bogboys"[8] battles. According to the Duke's letter written in 1808 to Secretary Arthur Wellesley, he obtained the confidence of James' father by telling him that he "had seen his son, John, and that I made my escape from prison."[9] Wellington convinced the elder Ryan that he, too, served in prison, like his other son John, for political agitation. He further attempted to gain his trust by providing a way for Ryan's father to write to his incarcerated son. Wellingon further attempted to extract James' whereabouts, but the elder Ryan, although thankful, would not provide Wellington with his son's whereabouts. Wellington in his letter further noted: "I spent the entire of two days with him and could not make out where his son was, though I made him drunk twice. He is a well-informed old man, and I believe his son, James, supplies him with plenty of money; as he had it very free, making some of the country fellows drink whiskey."[10]
His pursuit of James Ryan was not his only attempt to bring order to the territory. He made extensive trips into Tipperary and the neighboring districts to uncover membership in secret societies, and while doing so he made numerous observations about the local hooligans. Wellington wrote one description that perhaps said it all: "The whole is nothing but factions, quarrels, and animosities among themselves, and a kind of revengeful spirit that exists amongst the different factions of the country."[11] These factions went on raiding parties, traveled great distances, to "beat one another unmercifully, and even kill at times,"[12] Wellington wrote. Because so many Irishmen belonged to these groups, the local justices generally looked the other way when it came to their activities. Although these factions frequently preyed upon one another, generally they all hated England and its administrators for the poverty that covered Ireland.
Faction fights were common in the South of Ireland, and these fights became annual events, often the highlight of Irish gatherings and local fairs. These brawls almost became ritualistic with taunts such as "who dare tread on the tail of me coat," or use of another teasing measure called 'wheeling' where rival groups would make sarcastic comments such as "who dare strike a Ryan?" These fights would often result in minor injuries; but County records indicated that deaths sometimes occurred as a result of some of the more violent altercations. How many factions existed may never be known; but it appeared there were many and not necessarily tied to single family units. The most prominent groups were the `three year olds' and the `four year olds' in Limerick which apparently had their origins over a dispute regarding the age of a bull. In Tipperary, the most well known were the `magpies' and the `black hens' whose origins had similar backgrounds.
Faction fighting reflected the social instability of late 18th century Ireland. Faction fighting and related face-saving measures such as dueling were tolerated, and while it may have alarmed English authorities, the fact that it was usually a crime of Catholics against Catholics, it was merely seen as one way to reduce the surplus population. Government journals and newspapers recorded hundreds of duels during this period which suggested that it was commonplace. One of the more colorful duelists at this time was Crow Ryan from Carrick-on-Sur, who would shoot anyone who would say "boo" to him.[13]
The events which Wellington described in 1808 went unchecked, and by 1815 Parliament was forced to apply the Insurrection Force. The magistrates sent its armies into large areas of Tipperary and Waterford, and the military was instructed to end the disturbance in any way it saw fit. The military may have tempered the civil disorder found in the area, but their abusive actions created great animosity among the population living in the affected areas. Sir Rober Peel was so pleased with the Yoeman's efforts that he later commented, "the north was tranquil but for the difficulties connected with illicit distilleries. The west was tolerably quiet. So was Leinster, and so on the whole was Munster too."[14] A few years later, Jeremiah O'Ryan wrote a satire about Peel's introduction of military forces, commonly known as 'Peelers', into Munster. This broadside, or song, became very popular throughout the small villages of Ireland:[15]
A set of peelers were out one night, on duty and patrolling,O
They met a goat upon the road who seemed to be a strolling,0
With bayonets fixed they sallied forth and caught her by the weazen,0
And then swore out a mighty oath they'd send her off to prison,0
Goat:
Oh, mercy, sir, the goat replied, pray let me tell my story,O
I am no rogue or ribbonman, or croppy, whig or Tory, 0
I'm guilty not of any crime, of petty or high treason ,0
And I'm sadly wanted at this time, for `tis the milking season ,0
Peeler:
It is in vain you do complain, or give your tongue such bridle, 0
You're absent from yur dwelling place, disorderly and idle ,0
Your hoary locks will not avail, nor your sublime oration ,O
For Grattan's Act will you transport, by your own information,0
Goat:
The Penal Laws I ne'er transgressed by deed or' combination ,0
I have no fixed place of abode, nor certain habitation,0
Bansha is my dwelling place where I was bred and born,0
Descended from an honest race, therefore your threats I scorn ,0
Peeler:
I'll soon chastise your impudence and insolent behavior,0
Well bound to Cashel you'll be sent, where you will find no favor ,0
Impartial Billy Purefroy will sign your condemnation,O
And from there to Cork you will be sent for speedy transportation,O
Goat:
This parish and neighborhood are peaceful , quiet and tranquil ,0
There's no disturbance here, thank God, and may it long continue,0
Your oath I don't regard a pin, to sign my committal, 0
For my jury will be gintlemen to grant me an acquital ,0
Peeler:
Let the consequence be what it will , a peeler's power I'll let you know
I'll fetter you at all events and march you off to prison ,0
You villain, sure you can't deny before a judge and jury ,0
That I on you found two long spears which threatened me with furty,O
Goat:
I'm certain if you weren't drunk with whiskey, rum or brandy,O
You would not have such gallant spunk, or be so bold and manly, 0
You readily would let me pass if I'd the sterling handy,0
To treat you to a poteen glass-O, `tis then I'd be the dandy ,0