THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AND THE IRISH STRUGGLE .......
This article is based on a lecture delivered by Sean O Bradaigh in Dublin on January 21 , 1989 , marking the 70th Anniversary of the founding of the First (All-Ireland) Dail Eireann in the Mansion House on January 21 , 1919 , and the links between Irish and French Republicans - 'Partners in Revolution' 200 years ago .
Published in 1989 by Sean Lynch , Cleenrath , Aughnacliffe , County Longford , on behalf of the County Longford Branch of the National Graves Association .
By Sean O Bradaigh .
Liberte ! Egalite ! Fraternite ! Ou La Mort ! ( (Freedom ! Equality ! Brotherhood ! or Death!).
Unite Indivisibilite De La Republique !
" We present ourselves as sincere friends to all who will embrace the cause of liberty and we thirst after nothing but breaking your fetters and chastising your tyrants " - General Lazare Hoche .
A forced march by night across the mountains in torrents of rain ; a surprise attack at dawn ; and a masterly assault by General Sarrazin on the British 'defenders' ' left flank gave warning of what was to come : brave Mayo men faced pounding artillery with nothing but pikes hammered out by skilled blacksmiths who had worked night and day for five days .
To confuse the enemy further , General Humbert suddenly changed tactics - he launched his full reserve , and changed from closed formation to open files . Rising up in his saddle , and brandishing his sword , he gave the order , in Irish - " Eirinn go Brach ! " The drums sounded the 'pas de charge' and a blue line , now within a few paces of the enemy , regrouped back into closed lines and moved swiftly forward , their bayonets gleaming in the morning sun , a fierce and threatening determination in their countenances .
The famed army of the French Revolution was here in the fields of Mayo : veterans of many victorious campaigns on the continent , men who had endured much and who believed passionately in their cause . They had measured their enemy and marked them down as ' the defenders and upholders of tyranny and injustice' . The Sasanaigh and their Irish militias and Yeomen hesitated , and then turned their backs and fled in terror .......
THE UNBROKEN LINKS IN THE IRISH REPUBLICAN CHAIN .......
By Martin Calligan.
(No year of publication.)
We know that when Cromwell came to Ireland he slaughtered men , women and children ; that he uprooted the natives and gave their lands and property to his soldiers - later called 'the Gentry' .
Under the Government Act 1920 , Britain drew a border around six counties , so that a minority of Cromwells descendants would always have a parliamentary 'majority' in a contrived puppet State , now they have a veto . The Twenty-Six County State operates within the structures of the British system ; their policies are based on foreign investments . You can never have prosperity here , multi-nationals will only come if assured a good profit and are under no obligation to pay a decent wage out of their huge profit .
You read in the capitalist press that unemployment is down and again that such a factory has closed making hundreds redundant ; since joining the Brussels block this State's prosperity has depended on handouts - other peoples money . There is no such thing as free money - someone must pay , but not the rancher farmer and his like ; their pressure groups saw to that . The small farmers only got the crumbs , and now those crumbs are getting scarce - the rich refusing to pay . This States' Agricultural Policy is dictated by Brussels - potato's and vegetables are imported from abroad , while those depending on 'free money' have'nt even got a hen !
Such a policy leaves no future for your children .......
BUTCHERS DOZEN .
A poem by Thomas Kinsella , written after Bloody Sunday .
From 'IRIS' magazine , March 1983 .
' I went with anger at my heel
through Bogside of the bitter zeal
- Jesus pity! - on a day
of cold and drizzle and decay .
A month had passed . Yet there remained
a murder smell that stung and stained ,
on flats and alleys - over all -
it hung . On battered roof and wall ,
on wreck and rubbish scattered thick ,
on sullen steps and pitted brick .
And when I came where thirteen died
it shrivelled up my heart . I sighed ,
and looked about that brutal place
of rage and terror and disgrace :
then my moistened lips grew dry -
I had heard an answering sigh .......