1829.] in the Irish Rebellion. 377 
We remained without food all that day, and towards six in the even- 
ing, Barker’s family turned us all out of the garden, for they said it was 
not safe for us to remain there any longer. I now thought to take my 
mother home, for she was totally incapable of giving me advice ; but just 
as we arrived at the outskirts of the town, and were slowly walking by 
the river, a party of rebels on the opposite bank, ordered us to return 
again or they would fire onus. We then endeavoured to quit it by 
another outlet, when we were surrounded by a strong body of pikemen, 
ot with many more whom they had already prisoners, to Vinegar 
1. 
This hill lies close to Enniscorthy, it is not high, but tolerably steep, 
and the rebels were assembled on it in thousands. They seemed to have 
a few tents made of blankets, but the greater number were in the open 
air. I could see that some were cooking at large fires, whilst others 
lay about sleeping on the ground. It was probably about eight in the 
evening when we arrived at the hill, whén the men whom they had 
captured were separated from us, and driven higher up, whilst we, and 
many other woman and children, were ordered to sit down in a dry 
ditch not far from the foot of it. We had not been long here, when we 
were accosted by a neighbour, whose name was Mary Donnelly, she was 
a rebel’s wife, and had now come to the hill to join her husband. She 
pitied us, and sat beside my mother the entire of that night, who, feeling 
her presence a protection, would cower down beside her when she heard 
the slightest noise. And that whole night we heard fearful sounds on 
the hill above us, as the men who were brought there prisoners with 
ourselves, were massacred one by one. We could hear distinctly the 
cries of the murdered, and the shouts of the executioners. The moon 
shone brightly, and, towards dawn, I saw what I think alarmed me 
even more than any sight I had yet beheld. A tall white figure came 
rushing down the hill: as it came nearer, it had the appearance of a 
naked man, and I felt my heart die within me, for I thought it was no 
living being. He passed so close to us, that I could see the dark 
streams of blood running down his sides. In some minutes the uproar 
above shewed he was missed, and his pursuers passed also close to us ; 
one of them perceived I was awake, and asked if I had seen him pass, but’ 
I denied it. This was a young gentleman named Horneck, one of the 
finest lads in the County Wexford; he had been piked and stripped, 
but recovering, hadfled from the hill, he waded the Slaney, and ran six 
miles to the ruins of his father’s house, where his pursuers reached him 
and completed their work of death. 
~ On Wednesday, about ten in the forenoon, owing to the intercession 
of Mary Donnelly, we were allowed to leave the hill. When we had 
gone about a furlong, I was shocked at missing the infant from my 
mother’s arms. On inquiring of her what had become of it, she seemed 
at first not to understand me; she was so much bewildered, she had 
actually forgotten it beltind her. I returned, and found the poor little 
creature asleep on the ground, where she had laid it, and she did not 
even seem to rejoice when it was restored to her. In our slow progress 
towards home, we met a silly, harmless fellow, a wood-ranger, who 
called himself a pikeman, but who was armed only with the handle of 
a shovel, with no head on it. He took one of our children on his back, 
amd another in his arms, and said he would not leave us till we had 
arrived at our own house. When within half a mile of it, we met a 
M.M. New Serics—Vou. VU. No. 40. 3C 
