Hero or Traitor?: Book 1

By Michael P Pierce

What drives a man to become a rebel?

This is a true story about a protestant man of English descent
who ends up becoming The Commander in Chief of The
United Irishmen in 1798.

The rebellion of 1798 was one of the largest rebellions ever
in Irish history when Irishmen and women fought to gain
independence from

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael P Pierce
• Release date: Dec 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9780648223313

Book preview

Hero or Traitor?

Background

My name is Joe Holt. I was born in 1756 in Ballydonnel, near Avoca, County Wicklow, Ireland. I am the son of a farmer, English by descent and Protestant by birth. While I was naturally inclined to farming, and a peaceful country way of life, I also occupied myself in many other roles to better myself, and to earn additional money, to supplement a meagre seasonal income from tenant farming.

My immediate family consists of my darling wife Hester, our beautiful daughter Marianne, and our little son Joshua. I feel very blessed to have such a lovely family. We have been very happy and content, living peacefully on our little rented farm, just outside the village of Roundwood, in the foothills of the beautiful Wicklow Mountains. I am a fortunate man in many respects, and thank God constantly, for my blessings.

We grow corn on our small farm and I perform other duties, on a part-time or seasonal basis. I am proud to say that the money I bring home is fairly, honourably and honestly earned. My devoted and loyal wife looks after the farm, our home and our children, when I am away performing other roles mostly on behalf of the ruling English establishment.

One of the part-time roles I did, was to provide various tasks, as a ‘Special Constable’ on behalf of the English Crown. Generally, these tasks were at the request of local Magistrates. Sometimes the tasks were simple, and easy, without taking up too much time, such as, escorting prisoners from a local court to a jail, and visa verse, or simply issuing a summons for someone to appear in court.

On other occasions, the role required me to perform the task of a ‘Bounty Hunter’. In this role, I was generally acting as an agent of the government, and on some occasions I performed the role for a reward, and sometimes, I did it for nothing.

A bounty hunter is responsible for tracking down scoundrels, criminals and thieves, and then, bringing them to jail. It is this task, acting in the role of a bounty hunter that I most relished, and developed an appetite for, when called upon to perform. I have a passion for justice and feel strongly that those who commit wrongs should be brought to justice to amend their wrong doings.

Little did I know at that time, that the skills that I developed as a bounty hunter would soon become very useful indeed, when I found myself involved in Ireland’s struggle for independence, against the very English system, that I had been a part of?

I am a peace loving man at heart and I would like nothing better than to be able to continue to live comfortably and peacefully at home, carrying out all of my tasks, diligently, faithfully and loyally, within the context of my Christian values, morals and principles.

But the World contains some wicked people, tyrants, oppressors, and people with evil intent. In-justice exists everywhere. Dishonesty, greed, and betrayal are human conditions that cause much pain and suffering.

Sadly these negative human conditions, can affect not only individuals, but can extend to personal and family relationships, business and community relationships, and can even extend to conflicts within and beyond an entire country. Conflicts can escalate to wars within, and even between Nations.

Conflicts arise as a result of the negative and evil manifestations of people, who lack virtue. These people lack basic goodness in their hearts, minds, souls, and actions.

We must all stand up to injustice, dishonesty, and the bullies in our societies. We must stand alone, and together, in the face of evil and adversity, when they come to visit us, individually, or collectively as a society.

We have a right to protect what is ours and we have a right to seek legally what we have honourably earned. We all have a moral right to fight tyranny and oppression wherever it exists. We all have a moral obligation to improve human conditions.

I am not a greatly educated man, but God was good in granting me a knowledge and understanding of the difference between right and wrong, justice and in-justice, freedom and oppression.

Sometimes we don’t get to choose the paths we have to take in life. I am telling my story so that the reader can judge for themselves why I took the paths I did.

My father, John Holt was a farmer, before me. I had five brothers and one sister. The Holt’s are descended from English protestant settlers who were introduced into Ireland during the reigns of Elizabeth 1st. and her son James 1st. of England, This period was around the years 1575-1625.

Because of our English background, it’s fair to say that we Holt’s were loyalists, meaning that we were loyal to the government of the day, which happened to be English, despite the fact that we were living in Ireland. The English had ruled and governed Ireland, for a long time, and were still in power, throughout the period of my story, which is focused on the summer and autumn of 1798.

My father’s farm that is now managed by one of my brother’s is located at Castlemacadam, County Wicklow. The farm overlooks The Vale of Avoca, and the trout filled Avoca River, which happens to be one of the most beautiful places on this earth. I had a very happy childhood and family life growing up there.

As a teenager, I commenced an apprenticeship as a gardener under the instruction of a gentleman who was the steward, farm manager and head gardener of a large estate near Bray, Co. Wicklow.

I went up to the North of Ireland for a short time to learn advanced farming methods that I intended to apply when I returned home, which I eventually did, via Dublin. When I stopped in Dublin for a few days break, I was walking in the Phoenix Park one day when a Captain of the Thirty-second Regiment of foot soldiers approached me. He was recruiting for the East India Company. On observing I was able bodied, well built and standing five feet ten inches tall, he was eager to recruit me.

He offered to make me a sergeant on the spot and immediately employed me to help him in recruiting other fit young men. I agreed to his proposal, and in just 21 days, I obtained 32 Irish recruits who were prepared to fight overseas, for the English Crown.

My mother and father pleaded with me not to go into the English army and not to leave my native Country. I agreed, returned home, and stayed on the farm.

In 1782, I met a beautiful young lady, named Hester Long, from the village of Roundwood. We quickly fell in love, and it wasn’t long before we married to start a life and a family together. Hester was the daughter of a Protestant farmer, and her mother was a Manning, which was known to be an orange family. Hester never exhibited any anti Irish tendencies or prejudices.

An orange family is one that supports the idea of English Protestant supremacy and sovereignty in Ireland, despite Ireland being mostly a Catholic country with a different culture and very different values. The term orange comes from the protestant King William 3rd. of Orange, who defeated the catholic King Charles the 2nd. at the Battle of the Boyne in 1690. The victory for William ensured the continuation of English Protestant rule over Ireland for many years to come. The battle actually took place on the 1st. of July, but, with the new calendar year, it is now celebrated by the Northern Irish Protestant Orangemen every year, on the 12th.of July.

Each year, on the 12th of July, the Protestants of Northern Ireland have a massive march. This march, each year, is a contentious issue, as it implies the Orangemen are not only proud of their battle victory of 1690, but it could be argued that they are also sticking an upright finger to the Irish Catholics, who continue to long for a united Ireland.

Soon after marrying Hester, we rented a small farm in Mullinveigue, just outside the highest village in Ireland, which is called Roundwood. Being an industrious fellow, I also took it upon myself to take on other positions to acquire further knowledge and experience, and to ensure my family were well taken care of financially.

One of the roles, I took on was that of Overseer of Public Works which means a Superintendent of construction projects such as roads, bridges, drains and so on. I also obtained a commission as Deputy billet-master which means that I looked for and arranged accommodation for troops of the Crown, who were stationed all over Ireland, at the time, as part of English rule.

I also held the title of Sealer of woollen drapery. A sealer is an inspector. Wool was a major commodity around the Wicklow Mountains. I was also involved in the wool trade as a Buyer, which was made easy due to my knowledge of the local farmers and the terrain of the County.

I managed to do these tasks and duties along with attending to my own small farm, and I am proud to say that the nature of the work I did, was honourable and given to me on a trustworthy basis. I performed these tasks and held these positions of authority and trust with pride.

Out of all the roles I held, the one that gave me the most satisfaction was that of Bounty Hunter, when I tracked down convicted and/or suspected, criminals and/or escaped convicts, and brought them back to justice.

Chapter 1 (Role of Bounty Hunter)

In 1794, a band of robbers, who came from Dublin City, started to make in-roads into County Wicklow. They obviously found it easier to rob isolated farmers in the countryside, than they did in Dublin City, which was well policed and patrolled by English troops.

These vagabond robbers would come up into the foothills, steal whatever they could, and then escape into the mountains, with very low chances of being caught. Then, they would return to Dublin and sell their plunder, where few questions would be asked and nobody would recognize their plunder. Over a period of time they became more daring and committed their robberies on an increasing basis with impunity.

The leader of this band of thieves was a man named Patrick Rogers, a man of strength and determination of character. He happened to live in the local area and knew it very well. His familiarity and knowledge of the area was helpful to his band of city criminals, as they would not be familiar with the terrain of the intricate mountain regions.

Knowing that one of our local residents was the leader of a band of robbers, who were intent on robbing our neighbourhood, was difficult for me to accept lying down. I reflected on this situation, and then, by coincidence:

One day, in August 1794, I met four of my neighbours, among them being Andrew Price. My neighbours asked me if I had ever come across Patrick Rogers and told me that a reward was being offered for his capture.

One of my neighbours, Higginbotham, proposed to me that I set a trap for Patrick Rogers and that if I was successful in helping to capture Rogers, that I would get 100 pounds, being a share of the reward money.

I looked at Higginbotham scornfully and told him that I was no setter and that I would not get to know Rogers and pretend to be his friend, for the purpose of setting him up to trap and betray him.

I went on to tell him that all is fair against an enemy, while he is one; but spies and informers have always been held in contempt. I told him I had no intention of being or becoming a spy, nor was I the type of person to set someone up, to gain a financial reward. I explained that any rewards that I received in life were down to hard and honest work, rather than by treachery.

I told him that whilst Rogers was a bold and disgusting fellow, that he would not be taken by any man whose strength, courage and bravery was not at least equal to his own. I told him that I would be prepared to catch this leader of thieves, but it would not be by treachery. I would capture him in a fair, honest and straightforward manner.

Andrew Price cried out: Bravo Holt, I knew it. I said you were the man, if any man in this country could do it; I knew it would be you. Joseph Holt is not a cowardly treacherous setter Higginbotham, but, a decent man who is able and willing to serve the public, and his neighbours, by bringing a notorious robber to justice.

Higginbotham then asked me if I thought I would be able to take Rogers, which put me so much on my metal that I said that I could take on two or more such men, and more than that, I was going to do so. I immediately decided to put my promise into action, which I did after a chase of several days.

I had mentioned to Andrew Price that I heard a rumour that Rogers was headed towards Newtown Barry in the adjoining County of Wexford, to hold up for a while, as he knew that there was now a reward for his capture and that the people of County Wicklow had had enough of his robbing. Andrew arranged for two men to assist me in my chase for Patrick Rogers.

My two assistants and I proceeded riding to Newtown Barry and stopped at a shebeen house, which is a little cabin that sells whiskey without a license. My inquiries established that a man resembling Rogers had been there asking directions for a place called Mullanasmareen and on further questioning found out that the man resembling Rogers was staying near that place, at either Widow Hughes’s or Tom Neill’s house.

One of my assistants knew the area very well and led us towards the Widow Hughes’s house first. I dismounted close to the cottage and proceeded on foot in the dark. When I arrived at the front door of the cottage I decided to force the door in, to catch the occupants by surprise. I searched the cottage, but Rogers was not there.

Keeping a good look out all around me, and listening carefully, I heard a sound, and in the moonlight, observed a young girl running away from the cottage. I ran after her and followed her to a house that I later discovered was Tom Neill’s house. I waited a distance from the house to observe what would happen, and it was not long before I saw a naked man dart out of the house whom I pursued to the top of a hill, where I found Rogers in the act of trying to put on his underpants.

I went up to him boldly and told him he was my prisoner. He recognised me in the moonlight and said that he was glad to surrender to a person from his own neighbourhood, but his words were merely to put me off guard, because he immediately tried to jump me and succeeded in knocking me to the ground.

But, I was too strong and fit for him and by a vigorous effort succeeded in throwing him off me, and obtained the advantage by getting on top of him. I kept him down and after much struggling, secured him by tying his hands with my garters.

My two assistants Derman and Dobbs arrived on the scene and asked how it was that they had lost sight of me. I told them I was too keen a sportsman to lose sight of my game, once I had it in my view.

Having taken the prisoner, I decided to head to the nearest local magistrate named James. My assistant knew where he lived and I asked him to lead us there so that I could advise the magistrate that I had in fact captured Rogers and to secure him further in the presence of the magistrate. We arrived at the magistrate’s house at 2 am and knocked on his door.

My assistants thought that the magistrate would fire his pistol at us, thinking that we were robbers, knocking at that time in the early hours of the morning. Mr. James opened his bedroom window and demanded to know our business. I told him my name and said that I had the notorious robber Pat Rogers in custody and that as he was a magistrate, I wanted his official recognition of my capture of Rogers and for him to officially record the facts of my apprehension and custody.

Mr James agreed to my request, came down stairs to let us in. We further secured our prisoner. At about 5am we proceeded back to town. After a 4-hour ride, we entered an Inn to have breakfast. People had seen us, in the early brightness of a summer’s day, so the word was on the streets that we had taken Rogers into custody and all the local magistrates and busy bodies, started to assemble in the town, among them a Hunter Gowan who wanted Rogers to be held as prisoner in his county of Wexford.

I resisted this saying that Rogers was my prisoner and that I was not going to give him up to any authority outside of my own County of Wicklow, and that I intended to lodge him in Wicklow Town prison, in the County where he committed his crimes.

I added that any man who attempted to rescue him from me would have the contents of my pistol in his belly. Gowan and the other magistrates left me alone after that. I finished my breakfast, along with my prisoner, to whom I had also given a good breakfast.

The local magistrates did send an escort to accompany my prisoner and me to the County border between Wexford and Wicklow. The escorts tied a rope around his ankles to secure him to his horse. This caused Roger’s much pain as he had hurt his ankle when he struggled with me. When we reached County Wicklow and the escort departed back to Wexford, I released the rope from the unfortunate man’s ankles, out of pity, as he was in so much pain.

I took my prisoner to Major Chamney of Ballyrahin, who congratulated me on my success. He enquired as to whose warrant I had for the prisoner, to which I responded that I had none and that I had undertaken the task as a service and to show what could be done by a determined man, and that I hoped to collect a part of the reward money for my efforts. The major agreed to assist me in completing my task.

After providing me with some welcome refreshment he sent me to the local magistrate Henry Moreton, who prepared a committal order for me to take the prisoner to Wicklow Jail, after I made an affidavit confirming the identity of Rogers, my capture of him and the fact that a reward was offered for his capture. He also arranged two constables to escort me and officially made me a Special Constable, for the sanctioned transportation of the prisoner.

On the way to Wicklow Jail, I obtained from Rogers the names of several of his gang. For three months afterwards, I amused myself in the task of pursuing these criminal depredators with the same gratification and glow in the breast of a true sportsman in pursuit of animals in a chase; and this I did without fee or other reward.

Time does not permit me to relate all the incidents and particulars of each criminal that I apprehended and brought to justice. The robbers, coiners, pick pockets and other disobeyers of the law, but to each of them, such as Martin Synnot, a celebrated coiner in New Street, Dublin, who had long evaded and defied justice, along with John Morgan and Thomas Keenan, just to name a few, the name of Joe Holt became a terror to evil doers. A ‘coiner’ is a maker of counterfeit coins.

Chapter 2 (Deputy Overseer role)

In addition to all of my part-time roles, I expanded my work interests further, when a local gentleman of some