ship in their turn, and allow some repose to those men who had been in every engagement. On this intelligence, Mr. Hay got on horseback, and rode up to the barracks, where he endeavoured, by every means in his power, to induce the men to leave the town; and they at length seemed willing to consent; but on the arrival of Captain Dixon, with the reinforcement of whisky, they so far altered their opinions and inclinations, that Mr. Hay was threatened for his interference. From the specimen of Captain Dixon's disposition, displayed by his conduct to Mr. Lehunte, and the attrocities he committed in the country, no confidence could be placed in him; and seeing his influence over these men, who now, at his instance, absolutely refused to quit the town, measures of precaution naturally suggested themselves. After recommending to the guards to be vigilant on their station, which they were to quit upon no account, the Council dispatched the above-mentioned Mr. Hay to the camp at the Three-Rocks, requesting of the Chiefs a reinforcement of the Wexford-men, which, after much persuasion, was at last granted, rather to get rid of Mr. Hay's importunity than from any other reason or motive; as no idea of a massacre was at all entertained. Mr. Hay was however allowed to take his choice of the Wexford corps, but on no condition would they be permitted to quit the camp, until the whole remaining force should have marched off, as it was apprehended that if they

were seen going, they might be followed by others. Mr. Hay then fearing the men might be countermanded, before the main body should have moved off, waited for that event, which took up a considerable time; during which he also procured a letter from the Commander-in-Chief, directed to Captain Dixon, ordering him to quit Wexford immediately, on pain of death. The corps Mr. Hay procured, contained only two hundred and twentyfive pike-men, (no guns-man being allowed to return) and with these, having secured their sobriety, along with the guards that had remained in WexFord, was thought to be completely sufficient to keep Captain Dixon and his drunken crew, in awe, should they shew an inclination to be refractory. When Mr. Hay judged all danger of a countermand was over, he set off in full speed, toward Wexford, to announce this reinforcement to the guards there on duty, for the protection of the prisoners, in whose defence he had taken up arms: but, alas! before he could reach Wexford, Dixon had commenced the abominable and terrific massacre, and was then in the act of conducting his victims, in successive parcels of from ten to twenty, each parcel surrounded by its guard of butchers, to the place of execution. On Mr. Hay's arrival, he found this infernal band in such force, and so well armed, as to banish all hope that the small number of Wexford men, remaining in, and returning to the town, could give them any effectual resistance.

The number of Dixon's men was now immensely encreased by a number of fugitives, driven by the approach of the Royal army, from about Gorey, into the part of the country called Shilmalier. Through this quarter Captain Dixon had made an excursion on the same day, diffusing dread and alarm, and calling on such of the cowardly as were absent from camp, to assemble for general defence at Wexford; and, unfortunately, he was so successful in his efforts, that, on the morning of the 21st, when the enraged populace were assembled, and that the Council thought to have had them lead to battle, they peremptorily refused to proceed, representing Wexford, from the suggestions of Captain Dixon, and some other of his low declamatory associates, as more vulnerable. A vast number of fugitives, who arrived the day before, were now continually relating their misfortunes, the cruelties they suffered, and the hardships they endured, to those with whom they took refuge; which roused and irritated the populace to such a pitch of fury as admits not of description, and of which none but an eye-witness can have an adequate idea. All entreaties and remonstrances to sooth or calm the exasperated multitude were in vain: however, the Council, and all the respectable inhabitants that might be supposed to have any influence, continued to address, explain, excuse and expostulate, and in the course of these attempts, Dixon and his blood-thirsty associates, vowed vengeance against

them as Orangemen; for they vociferated that they had distinguished themselves by no other feat, but activity in protecting their enemies the Orangemen ; that they had never attended their camps, or they would be a judge of their miseries by the view of general desolation: one would roar out, that none of them had been flogged as he had been; another pathetically related, that his house had been burned, and he had been driven to beggary with his whole family, and he would have the death of the person that injured him; a third lamented the death of his father, another that of his brother; while they perseveringly declared, they only wanted to be avenged of those who had actually done them wrong. The Council, however, continued unwearied in their exertions to appease the wrath of popular phrenzy, and Mr. Hay, at their head, demanded a trial of the prisoners; but was answered by this universal cry, "What trial did we, 86 or our friends and relations obtain, when some "were hanged or shot, and others whipped, or "otherwise tortured; our houses and properties "burnt and destroyed, and ourselves hunted like "mad dogs?" "but," rejoined Mr. Hay, "do (6 you mean to compare yourselves to the perpetrators of such deeds, or would you disgrace your conduct by such barbarous acts?" This appeal to their principles produced the conse quence, as was fondly hoped by every humane and respectable person present, of their consent

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ing to a trial, but on the express condition, that Mr. Hay, and many other gentlemen, distinguished for their respectable rank and humanity, should retire, and be present on no account. The Council then endeavoured to procure men, whose humanity could not be doubted, to try the prisoners, and if possible, to keep the sanguinary Dixon, and a fellow named Morgan Byrne, from being of the number; but unhappily their appointment could not be opposed: four, however, out of seven, which was the number chosen, humanely offered themselves, having previously promised that they would not consent to put any one to death. Mr. Hay and the Council made use of another stratagem, by proposing an oath, that in their proceedings they would not be guided by public prejudice, but by justice and the evidence before them. This was with a view, if possible, to secure the assistance and co-operation even of the most sanguinary, and the seven were accordingly sworn to that effect.

The seven persons appointed to sit on the trial, proceeded from the committee-house to the goal, where they went into a small bed-chamber in the goaler's apartment, in which Captain Dixon had left fifteen prisoners, whom he had doomed as the first victims for condemnation; but he here met with an opposition, of which he was not, until that moment, at all aware. The members of this kind