(from “Annals of West Meath” – by James Wood, pub. 1907)
At the Midsummer Assizes of 1797, the Grand Jury of Westmeath voted a service of plate to the officers of the Wicklow Militia, of which corps, Hempenstal, the notorious Walking Gallows, was a lieutenant, in recognition of the splendid services they rendered, to the Crown and Constitution.
An indignant Westmeath freeholder, writing in the ” Press Newspaper” early in August, ’97, sets forth ” the splendid services” of Hempenstal and his comrades which led to the generous gift of the Grand Jury out of the pockets of the ratepayers, who were powerless to prevent the presentation. The writer bitterly assailed the Grand Jury for rewarding men whose only claims to their generosity were a series of foul and cowardly murders, burnings, and other outrages…
At the period of which we write there resided at Gardenstown (near the crossroads of Moyvore adjoining Templepatrick) a blacksmith named Edward Carroll, and his three sons, John,Thomas, and Edward. The old man was 70 years of age at the time, but was vigorous and muscular for his years. The sons were stalwarth fellows, who could handle a pike, or forge them, to perfection. They were United Men to the core, and manufactured scores of pikes for the eventful struggle in ’98, which they did not live to witness.
They were long suspected by the local magnates, who ruled the district and who held the lives and liberties of the people in the hollow of their hand. Spies were hired to watch their movements, and a wretch named W — (as there are several of the name living in the Barony of Rathconrath, and some in the Parish of Moyvore, we abstain from giving it, but there is no secrecy about it in the columns of the Press), accepted the blood money. The informer was a young man of dissolute habits, and was a member of a notorious band of outlaws and desperadoes, who infested South Westmeath at that time. Under the guise of patriots they played the triple roll of defenders, thieves, and bullies, and spies when needed ; and they plundered indiscriminately friends and enemies alike.
The rendezvous of the gang was on the north bank of the little lake, situated at the rear of Mount Dalton. In a deep glen, sheltered on every side by low hills, and flanked by a rushing rivulet, was the outlaw’s home… …(After a botched stagecoach robbery)…the leader of the banditti swore against his three companions in crime, and they were hanged, and to save his wretched life he volunteered to betray the secrets of the United Irishmen of the district.
Fortunately he knew nothing about their movements, save the manufacture of pikes, and where they were hid. Two days after the events narrated, W—was brought to Moyvore under a strong escort, and handed over to Hempenstal, to whom he revealed all he knew, and what he did not know of the insurrectionary movement. The informer’s first act of perfidy was to accuse Carroll and his sons of making the pikes, after which he piloted the military to the graveyard of Templepatrick where some of these weapons were found under tombstones and more were discovered in the bogs of Dalystown and Williamstown.
Hempenstal, in the presence of the traitor, W—•—, promised protection and indemnity to old Carroll and his family if he would quietly surrender up all his arms. The unfortunate old fellow gave the monster three guns, which were no sooner received than he with his own hand sabred the old man through the heart, and then had the three sons, young men, butchered in cold blood, without the rites of the Church. The murderers then burned and destroyed their house, the hay, and in short, every bit of property of which they were possessed. The wife and child of one of the sons were in the house when set fire to and would have been burned had not one of the soldiers dragged them out…
He then pressed a car on which the dead bodies were thrown and from thence went to the village of Moyvore, about a quarter of a mile from the scene of the murders, where he arrested three other men—viz., Henry Smyth, John Smith, and Michael Murray, the latter, the son of a widow, under pretence of their being “United Irishmen, and having tied them to the car on which the mangled remains of their neighbours were placed, they were brought three miles to the village of Ballymore…dragged to a fair green, manacled and guarded, and shot for no offence save that of loving their country…
On the fair day of Ballymore, a poor man of irreproachable character, named Keenan, after selling his cow, had his hand extended to receive the price of her, when this valiant soldier, Hempenstal, struck him with his sword on the shoulder, and almost severed the arm from his body. A young man named Hynes, a mason, passing through the fair on his way home, was attacked by the same ferocious savage, and in the act of begging his life upon his knees, was cut down by the Lieutenant’s own hands, and was left lying for dead…
The monster Hempenstal and his bloodthirsty band, not content with shedding the blood of seven innocent men, determined to have a bonfire to celebrate their atrocity by burning the village of Moyvore. The feat was easily accomplished, as the houses were thatched, and it being midsummer, were highly inflammable. The chivalrous soldiers of his Gracious Majesty George III selected the dead hour of night for the conflagration, and the scenes that followed were heartrending. The old, young, and infirm—men and women—huddled together. Some of them naked on the street, with no succour, as no one dare approach them, nor aid them, lest they might incur the displeasure of the tyrant — formed a scene of misery of no uncommon occurrence in Ireland at the period.
In the autumn of 1798, after the attempt of the people of Ireland to gain their emancipation had been completely defeated ; after every armed body had been dispersed or had surrendered except a few daring men that had taken refuge in the mountains of Wicklow under their intrepid leader, Michael Dwyer, while military tribunals, house burnings, shootings, torture, and every thing of devastation were desolating and overwhelming the defenceless inhabitants, three French frigates anchored in the bay of Killala on the 22nd August with 1,000 Frenchmen fully equipped under General Humbert to aid the insurgents…
The strength of their foreign allies was greatly exaggerated, as no one thought that the Government of the great French Republic would send the small force of 1,000 men to carry on a war against Britain, who had 80,000 regular troops to oppose them, exclusive of militia, yeomanry, and armed loyalists.
On Wednesday, the 5th September, ’98, a number of United Irishmen assembled at Skeagh Hill, a short distance west of the village of Rathconrath, and two miles west of Moyvore. They were under command of a brave young fellow, James Maloney, a native of the locality…
The insurgents marched to Ballynacargy, from thence to Baronston, which they surrounded. Richard Malone, better known as Baron Sunderlin, resided at the time in the ancestral mansion, but as he was a good landlord, kind and indulgent to his poorer neighbours and the good name his family bore for generations, they retired without doing the slightest injury to life or property…
Forty thousand insurgents were expected to assemble at the Crooked Wood [at the foot of Lake Derravaragh] for the purpose of effecting a diversion in favour of Humbert, who was expected to take Granard and enter into Ulster, when the news reached them of an overwhelming force of royalists under Cornwallis, establishing their headquarters at Ballinalee [Longford]. It was to join the Crooked Wood insurgents that the Skeagh contingent mobilized. It was believed in 1798, by the dissaffected of the district, that the arms and munitions of war belonging to the yeomanry corps of Ballinalack and Bunbrosna were stored in Wilson’s Hospital, which is a short distance from the last-named village….
(After taking Wilson’s Hospital , the rebels were approached by a force of 200-300 men, yeoman under Lord Longford and the Argyle Fencibles. The rebels marched from the Hospital to meeet these troops near the town of Bunbrosna)
The tradition of the battle is that the loyalists had five pieces of cannon in the field, and these effected ruinous gaps in the ranks of the patriots, whose only arms were a few guns, pikes, scythes, and forks. Three times the devoted little band endeavoured to drive the artillerymen from the guns, exposed to a decimating discharge of grape-shot and harrassed in flank by the enemy’s cavalry, and thrice were they repulsed with fearful loss. Unable to maintain their position they fled in all directions.
About a half mile from the scene of carnage some of the wearied and worn-out insurgents, particularly the Longford and Cavan men, sought safety and shelter in a farmhouse and offices, which the owner had abandoned to avoid the fury and cruelty of the yeomen, some of whom were his neighbours. The premises were quickly surrounded by infantry and cavalry …
The first act of the military was to set fire to the dwelling-house and offices, which were thatched. The insurgents inside had no means of defending themselves, particularly against the devouring element. They offered to surrender unconditionally, but this was refused, and as the unfortunate fellows rushed from the scorching flames they were mercilessly shot down, and those who escaped the bullet fell beneath the sabre and bayonet of the savage foe…
The morning after the battle, or rather massacre, the field of slaughter presented an appalling appearance. Numbers of unburied United men were strewn about the lawn and adjoining field. There were no wounded, as they were mercilessly dispatched by the savage yeomen, with barbarous ferocity ; and the bodies of those hanged the previous day, by orders of the ruthless commander, were dangling, in the autumnal breeze, from the temporary gallows, hastily constructed for their execution, and to intensify the horrors of the scene, numbers of weeping women— the wives, sisters, mothers, and lovers of the slain—were to be seen moving about the dead bodies, in search of their friends, and when one was discovered, the heartrending screams of the females were piteous in the extreme. No men were to be seen, as they dare not approach under penalty of death.
Numbers of the United men had carried away their comrades who were slightly wounded, and sought refuge on the islands in Lough Derravaragh and Lough Iron, while the tall bullrushes along the banks of the Inny afforded temporary shelter to others.