The Irish standard., 1907-11-23
CALLING yoke Of servituds to which the

people were subjected for the sake of
their religion.
Those were the days Of the White
boys in Ireland and the period when
the Penal Laws were in full force
Against this oppression Of legaiized
outrageous ruffianism many brave
priest and layman, many a sincere
Protestant fought. Among these cham
pions was Father Sheehy, parish priest
Of Shandraghan. He had bitter ene-
mics, who spared neither perjury nor
brutality to encompass his ruin. He
was accused Of reasonable practices.
of abetting the enemies Of law-save
the markl Knowing the sleepless
hatred OF the human bloodhounds who
tracked him, he was for many months
secretly harbored in Catholic and
Protestant homes. He at last deter
mined to face the satanic crew of
England's perjured hirelings. But his
innocence was so manifest that his
judges and jury were Immediately
convinced. and he was declared not
guilty.
But the shouts Of joy in the Dublin
court were soon changed into cries Of
execration. for q trumped-up charge
Of abetting the murder Of a crown
witness was preferred against him, and
he was handcuffed and placed on
horseback and tied thereon, so that the
ropes out to the bone of his ankles.
A corrupt Judge and a packed jury
disregarded the conclusive evidence Of
reputable citizens, and accepted the
readied-up statements of repuisive
scum, and Father Sheehy ana a farmer
named Meehan were hanged, drawn
and quartered in front of Clon1nel
Gaol. For scores and scores of years
after, tradition says. black cloud
overshadowed the town as an indica.
tion OF Divine wrath on the crime
committed within it's gates.
There are many lovely drives around
Clonmel, and the railway trip to
Waterford. about twenty six miles, is
through magnificent country, we'll
wooded and fertile. The SUR runs
parallel to the railway, and a boat
trip down with the current on a sum-
msr 'sveniGg Us something to look
back upon with pleasure. The view
from the bridge Of Kilshulan is very
fine. embracing river, hill and valley,
and when the setting sun lenSthens
the shadows one is afforded gli,npses
of peaceful, sylvan beauty, on which
the eye fingers with delight. Over
arching trees cover the road near at
hand and reveal mysterious bowers
fashioned by natures hand, where
elves might dance or bats sleep in the
day. Tho sun has set, and the long
twilight follows for hours. A dead
stiffness reigns broken only by the
jump of salmon or a trout. The
rabbits and hares come cautiously out
nibbling their way. On each side an
exuberance of foliage Of every shade
of green clothes the whole country
with d wealth Of billowy verdure.
Clurnps of pine trees in squares
seem like plumed armies marching to-
wards the summit of the towering
ridges close by where the deer are
safe from the stalker. De La Peers
quaint castellated mansion is seen
through the trees. The current carries
the boat gently downward. Water
lilies pillow their heads on great mo-
tionless circular leaves resting on the
surface Of the water. The splash Of a
distant oar is distinctly heard, AMI the
grooming of a weir far away. Sud-
denly a crane breaks forth from the
rushes which fringe the bank and
rends the silence with volley Of un-
earthly shrieks-you would say like a
lost soul-and all is still again.
A party Of lis were onoe surprised
to discern that there are both q bog
and a lake on the top Of the DEVILS
Bit. One gets a magnificent view
from this eminence. and the sweep of
vision takes in, am sure. many ccun-
ties. You sec the Shannon glittering
like silver miles away and on the
plains beneath you select one spot as
the most charming of all where nature
and art have Joined in a work Of
earthly beauty. You see Barnam Cas-
tie and the spacious grounds. far
reaching forests in which depths glim.
mer lakelets and rivulets. and mead
ows waving in richness. graveled walks
shaded by giant oaks which We're Wig
orous saplings when the Norman :am-
lilies came long ago to ireland.
The most beautiful holy we'll"
have seen in Ireland is that outside
Clonmel, called after ST. Patrick. It's
limpid waters spring up at the foot Of
an aged tree. The grounds around are