Echoes of the 1798 Rebellion still heard in Wexford

In the last edition of The Harp I reproduced some short oral history interviews sent via email by Margaret Gilbert of Gorey in Co. Wexford. The interviews were carried out by teachers and children from Wexford schools in the 1930s, part of the ‘Schools Collection’ which was a countrywide exercise carried out under the direction of the Department of Education at that time. Even these short extracts, one about the Land League and one about a local eviction, show us the importance of gathering stories from people in their communities.

During the past few weeks I have carried out some more research into the history of the county of Wexford and have been amazed at the powerful way that social memory has been transmitted very accurately in the area by word of mouth for many generations, in some instances for over 200 years. History books tell us that Wexford was one of the main areas of the 1798 Rebellion, an uprising led by Wolfe Tone and the United Irishmen which affected large parts of Ireland but was probably most fiercely experienced in Wexford.

The brutality of the 1798 Rebellion in Wexford is comparable to some of the worst modern conflicts we see on the world news today, though it is difficult to imagine such events taking place in the tranquil rural surroundings of this beautiful Irish county, with its friendly market towns and picturesque seaside villages. Yet thousands of poor Irish farmers rose up against the oppressive tyranny of British rule and, fighting with long picks against soldiers with guns, they took control of the whole county.

But the victory of the Wexford rebels was short lived and retribution was swift and brutal. Rebels underwent such tortures and punishments as ‘half-hangings’ and ‘pitch-capping’, the latter meaning that a prisoner had hot pitch poured over his head and was then left in a public place as it dried. Many were simply rounded-up and shot in the fields and town squares. It has to be recognised that the atrocities occurred on both sides and the local Protestant community of Wexford also became victims of the violence. But as one digs deeper and discovers the full impact of this short but awful period on the people of Wexford, it is hardly surprising that the echoes of 1798 can still be heard today.                

For the people of Wexford, the events of the 1798 Rebellion have a similar importance in terms of local heritage as the 1847 Hunger has in Connaught or the 1916 Easter Rising has in Dublin. But whilst it seems that every village and town in Wexford has a monument to the Rebellion and a local written account, what is more significant is the stream of transmitted memory where local people of the older generation still talk of local people and events as if they happened in their own lifetimes, not 200 years ago.

My correspondent Margaret Gilbert, who is a local historian in Wexford, told me the seeds of some stories, like the story of John Mellon from Monaseed who frequented the market in Gorey in the late 1790s, using the opportunity to circulate information about the whereabouts of the enemy. Margaret told me that John was shot at the Battle of Ballyellis but nothing is written of him.

She suggested I telephoned a gentleman named Aiden McDonald who is 85 years old and lives with his daughter at the post office in Camolin. I duly called Mr McDonald who told me he was a descendant of the John Melon in the eviction story we published last month and also the John Melon of the 1798 Rebellion, the first man mentioned probably being the grandson of the second. Mr McDonald told me: 

“John Mellon, the man who was threatened with eviction, was my great grandfather. He lived at Monaseed near Gorey on a small farm. He was out in the Land League. He was living on an estate that belonged to William Foster. The estate was divided up and they started to evict all the tenants. The tenants at Monaseed were evicted and 5 farms built on it.”

I asked Mr McDonald about the man named John Mellon who was shot in the 1798 rebellion. He said that this man used to go to the markets at Gorey where they sold pigs on Fayre Day. Mr McDonald told me that John Mellon made mats to sell at the fayre. He said that he learnt to make mats whilst in prison. It was at the fayres that he watched the English landlords and picked up information. Mr McDonald spoke of his ancestor John Melon almost as if he actually knew him, which I felt reinforced the power of the storytelling tradition in rural Ireland – if the rich have fine oil paintings by which to remember their ancestors, the poor have constructed their portraits through the spoken word. I would wish to thank Margaret Gilbert and Aiden McDonald for sharing these fascinating social memories with us.