There was not evidence to convict them. An
increased ill-feeling got up against the gentleman for a prosecution
that threw a slur on the Orange organization. The Orange society offered
a reward of L60 for the discovery and conviction of the offenders, but
nothing came of it. My friend thought it was done by parties unknown to
bring reproach on the Orange cause. The gentleman of the half-blood had
not been so much thought of by his fellow church members since this
transaction.
I spoke to my friend upon the unchristian nature of this party spirit,
which he agreed with me in lamenting, but excused by telling me outrages
by the Catholic party which made me shudder. All these outrages were
confirmed by the ancient woman who kept the key of the church, and who
stood listening and helping with the story, emphasizing with the key. I
asked when these outrages had taken place, and was relieved considerably
to hear that they happened about 1798 and 1641. Asked my friend if the
other side had not any tales of suffered atrocities to tell? He supposed
they had, thought it altogether likely. Why then, I asked him, do you
not bury this past and live like Christians for the future.
I am often asked this question about burying the past, said my friend.
My answer is, let them bury first and afterwards we will. Let them bury
their Ribbonism, their Land Leagueism, their Communism and their
Nihilism (making the motion of digging with his hands as he spoke) and
after that ask us to bury our Orangeism, our Black Chapter, our Free
Masonry, and we will do it then.
As we came down the hill from the church, I said to my friend, "You
acknowledge that there are wrongs connected with land tenure that should
be set right. You say that you see things of doubtful justice and scant
mercy take place here, that you see oppression toward the poor of your
country; why, then, not join with them to have what is wrong redressed,
fight side by side on the Land Question and leave religious differences
aside for the time being?" "I would be willing to do this," said my
friend, "I do not believe in secret societies, although I belong to
three of them, but a man must go with his party if he means to live
here. There are many Orangemen who have become what we call 'rotten,'
about Fermanagh, over one hundred have been expelled for joining the
Land League."
Party spirit is nourished, and called patriotism; it is fostered and
called religion, but it is slowly dying out, Ireland is being
regenerated and taught by suffering. In all suffering there is hope.
This thought comforted me when I shook hands with my friend and turned
my back to Ballyconnell and to Belturbet and took the car for Cavan,
passing through the same scenery of field and bog and miserable houses
that prevail all over.
