Ascendancy

By Patrick E Dwyer

An American heritage story,

The Saga of the Magoffin and O'Dwyers and the diaspora from Ireland circa 1800 to America, Australia, Jamaica, and Mexico is chronicled in ASCENDANCY. It is a story of Triumph over Tragedy and of two families that cross paths in Ireland at a very turbulent time an

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patrick Dwyer Publishing
• Release date: Feb 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9781958920459

Patrick E Dwyer

Plano, Texas resident Patrick E. Dwyer, MD. was born in Austin and raised in El Paso. He was a biology research scientist and educator before a medical career that included Pediatrics, Family, and ER medicine. Afterward he was a medical educator for several years. Now with a writing endeavor underway, he is the father of four adult children and has eleven grandchildren. Patrick is an avid sports fan and a classical music lover. Web site under construction: www.authorPatrickEarlDwyer.com 1st novel: Ascendancy (copyright 2021) 2nd novel in progress, subtitled: How the West was really won

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Copyright © 2023 by Patrick Earl Dwyer

All rights reserved

No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means–electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or other–except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without prior permission of the author.

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-958920-44-2

eBook ISBN: 978-1-958920-45-9

INTRODUCTION

In my youth I remember being asked to write the story by relatives in the aunt and uncle category. Little Pat, they would say, you will be the one to write it. I had no idea what they were referring to initially but gradually got the picture, mostly from my father, Big Pat, about our family heritage story and one that would be worth telling. I always wondered why my esteemed relatives, doctors, lawyers, and teachers and such, did not take it upon themselves to write the story.

Anyway, over the years I did not think or dwell on the task much. As a physician in the medical field and working in a rural setting in the southwest for many years, I enjoyed getting to know patients and almost invariably I admired and was impressed with all the magnificent American heritage stories I shared with many of those patients. I am convinced from those experiences that the Good Lord has blessed this country of ours with great people from all over the world who possess great family heritage histories.

However, my interest in beginning to research and write the story did not happen until recently in my 72nd year when I finally got the spark to do it from one of my daughters, Christi Dixon, who wanted to know more about her grandfather. I thought about it and replied to her, Gosh, I guess I am going to have to write the book.

It dawned on me after she asked, that just a few years before when my (our)dear mother, Christine Janik Dwyer passed that her relatives, her niece Mildred Janik Sobiesky and her husband, John, among others, came out to El Paso for the funeral. Incredibly, for some unknown reason that I am still perplexed about, they asked me if I was going to write the story! I remember thinking, How in the world did they know and to think to ask it of me since we had not spoken in thirty years? You see, they are from my mother’s side of the family, the Czech side of my heritage, live six hundred miles away in southeast Texas, but were asking about the Irish-side story. Go figure.

Well, the answer for all the delay is simple. The Man upstairs has his way of doing things in his own good time. Now surely as I have alluded, the story I begin to tell in this, my first novel, is not exclusive to our collective great American heritage, but I have determined at long last that it is worth telling for just that reason. It is not an uncommon story for old residents or for new families just immigrating to America and places like America. It happens this way all the time and will continue unabated. Okay, I do agree and admit, as the reader will find, that the two families described in ASCENDANCY had more than their fair share of adversity to overcome to get here. Nonetheless, there are many take-aways that apply to everyone who reads this true story.

This is the first part of a duology or trilogy that I hope to compose before old age begins to sink in. It is a work of Historical Fiction genre. Part 1 begins in Ireland in 1789 and ends in New Orleans in 1832. I connect the historical events and real people with a woven story of fact and fiction to include fictional characters. It is my interpretation of what probably happened and my interpretation alone. ASCENDANCY has lots of romance and action and is a story of triumph over tragedy. It is the long-standing story of many who fight for liberty and freedom and against tyranny and oppression. It has become a labor of love for me to write the story.

Dedication

To HIS children and to my children.

Contents

INTRODUCTION

Dedication

Chapter 1 The Four-Leaf Clover

Chapter 2 New Life and Fateful Endings

Chapter 3 The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly

Chapter 4 Good Fairies and Bad Fairies

Chapter 5 Retaliation

Chapter 6 Matters Made Worse

Chapter 7 Hopeful New Beginnings

Chapter 8 A Price to Pay

Chapter 9 Expanded Freedoms

Chapter 10 Inflamed Passions

Chapter 11 Too High Too Far

Chapter 12 Fight On

Chapter 13 Acceptance and Rejection

Chapter 14 New Orleans Magnetism

Chapter 15 The Attractions of Mexico and Texas

Chapter 16 Feeling the Heat

Chapter 17 Bright Future Ahead

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

About the Author

Chapter 1

The Four-Leaf Clover

Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity

Big Sam McAllister, who up until recently served The Crown as an Irish Volunteer, waited outside the pub, the Four-Leaf Clover, or simply, the Clover. The American Revolution, now over and done, pulled most of the British regular army out of Ireland. With the word spreading of a peasant revolution underway in France, there was a surge of hope in Ireland for freedom. The French called it, Liberty, Equality, and Fr aternity.

A meeting at the Clover, arranged by big Sam and other ‘patriots’ was going to inspire the creation of a new secret society supporting an independent Ireland. Sam thought it was like a wildfire spreading at an opportune time in history for the benefit of all Irishmen.

Shortly, old friend and partner Michael O’Dwyer tied up his horse in the back lot with several other horses, a few carriages, and a couple of larger wagons. Michael walked around to the front of the pub to greet Sam.

Map of Ireland

Hello there, big man, it’s a fine day in the afternoon to see you, old friend. But why are you out here when the pretty ones are inside? asked Michael.

I’m out here to protect the likes of you, smart ass, stated Sam. The Constabulary and their band of ugly informers are on the prowl. Don’t you know the word is about?

Michael responded, I guessed you would be guarding the front door, but it’s much to do about nothing, my friend. Come now, join me for a dark brew and we’ll say hello to the girls. First things first in the proper order now, Samuel.

Get started without me, Michael. I’m waiting on a couple of Defender boys. You remember little Jimmy O’Day and Steven Clooney? Need to post them as sentries. Need to be safe, Your Highness. I’ll join you shortly. Just keep your head clear, Michael. This is important, and we have a surprise guest or two I’m hearing, explained Sam.

In a while the sentries were posted. Sam found Michael at a corner table. Sam thought he was more interested in the pub girl, Nel O’Donnell, than the meeting and could understand why. Nel was the prettiest girl working at the Clover, save perhaps his girl, Irene. Nel had recently come from the country, and she was as pretty as a wild rose in bloom for sure.

There was, as usual, an Irish fiddler playing a soft lament, typical for this time of the afternoon as the patrons began to gather. The windows and doors were left open to allow a soft breeze in to clear out the pipe smoke. Sam had a few puffs himself. As Sam and Michael huddled, Michael asked, Are the Presbys from up North in attendance?

Yes, the Presbys are finally frustrated enough to join us in our cause or at least listen. There is an ironmaster named Magoffin attending who is representing many a shopkeeper up Newry way and Ulster, touted Sam who then asked, And on your end, Michael?

Yes, my father and brother Joseph will be here. They have been busy alerting many sympathizers from all over the Wicklows and down to Wexeford, said Michael. The two were then interrupted by Nel and Irene.

Boys, we’ve missed you, said Irene. But you are too young for us and too young to be drinking in this establishment, so we’ll have to ask you both to leave! she teased.

The feelings are mutual, lovelies. You’re too young and beautiful to be working here. The problem though is ‘men’ must work and do what business needs to be done, so that the ‘boys can play, exhorted Sam.

So, by day you’re men, by night you’re boys, teased Irene. They all laughed

Michael looked at Nel with her hands on her hips, smiling back at him and offered, In the first place I am often laboring about in the high pasture above the glen tending to the cattle, sheep, and horses. You, Nel, are welcome to come visit me there at the booley house to see for yourself. I’ll demonstrate, darlin, a man’s work for you, Michael said thinking that it came out wrong.

And do what? Nel responded. Practice, I suppose! She shook her head slowly and said, Nay, Michael, my belly would be out to here in six months’ time after a visit to your high-country estate, I’m afraid.

Everyone laughed in jest and then Michael clarified with, Now my darling, Nel, on my honor we could go for lovely walks in the flowered meadow; ride the Connemaras about the high forested ridges. There are trout in the ponds and streams up there. I’d catch you a few to bring back to town. It’s lovely up there, Nel. It would be a strictly friendly affair, on my honor!

Sam looked at Irene, winked and smiled.

Nel stopped shaking her head in the negative, paused, and finally said, Well Mr. O’Dwyer, are you asking me out for a picnic? Is this about a proper courtship? Because you must know that I am a good Catholic girl. If that’s what you’re asking I would oblige you, but you will and must get permission from my father and mother!

Michael stood and approached Nel, reached for her hands and holding them he looked at her smiling, nodded approval, and said, Lovely Nel, that is exactly what I was hoping you would say, and that is exactly what I intend to do.

Nel blushed as he squeezed her hands and pulled her closer. He took her all in, the soft chestnut hair, the big green eyes, the fair skin, the perfect lips, and bright smile. And where, pray tell, can I find your parents, darlin? he queried.

She looked up into his dark blue eyes and said, "Near Kildare is where the O’Donnells live, where I was born and raised. I’m here to work in Dublin town to support myself as best I can, staying with my Aunt Rose in the Liberties District. Sometimes I stay with Irene.

Michael noticed Nel when he first saw her there at the Clover a few weeks prior. He thought he may have been struck by lightning! He asked himself over and over since that first sighting, was this love at first sight? It was cliché to think so, but true.

Michael continued, It will be a week before I can see your parents, tend to my commercial interests and get back here, assuming your parents approve. If they do so, when and where can I come for you?

I’m thinking, my aunt, uncle, and I attend a mass early Sunday morning as the sun comes up at a small church at the end of Limerick Street. Do you know where that is? asked Nel.

Michael proclaimed, Yes, I do. Then if all goes well this next week, I will meet you there at church Sunday next.

I’ll be ready, Michael, Nel said as she lowered her eyes and blushed again like a wild red rose.

Irene, by now, was sitting in Sam’s lap and the two were in awe, mouths agape, looking and listening to the two love birds now standing, hands together, in front of them. They turned to look at each other and Irene said, Now don’t get any ideas, you brute. I won’t be fishin and ridin horseback in the mountains with a booley house close by with the likes of you. Heck, we would not be catchin any fish or pickin flowers, knowing you, Mr. Casanova, Mr. One thing on your mind.

The brown-haired blue-eyed Irene turned again toward Nel and Michael and back again to Sam, her plump arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders in an embrace. Sam guessed she was reading his mind. She often did. When she read his mind Irene would say it was easy because you are so simple minded. So, Sam inquired, Yes, as he looked into Irene’s eyes, you want me to spill it? Irene shrugged and smiled approval, Why not share it with them? she argued.

Sam confessed, God help us, we could not stay away from each other when she first came in here a couple of years back! Uh huh’ Irene chimed in, and it’s not that we don’t want to tie the knot as soon as we can….and surely we are careful, you understand, don’t ya, the two of ya? as Irene connected to Nel and Michael. It’s a timing, a rhythm thing, that we are careful to maintain, blurted Sam, himself blushing like Irene and Nel. Michael was the only one not blushing for the moment.

Irene finished by saying, So you see, up there above the glen together would be like a honeymoon in heaven, don’t you see? So be careful you two when you go up there. Don’t let mother nature get the best of you! Point taken by all friends present. Nel had just turned sixteen years old. Michael was also sixteen, but they were mature for their ages. Irish life demanded it, but they had to be careful.

A toast to the inevitable courtship was made by Sam and again by Irene. Then the back door to the pub opened. John O’Dwyer, father of Michael and Joseph, entered and without seeing the foursome in the back corner, was escorted by pub proprietor, Tom O’Hare, into the meeting room behind the bar.

Sam looked at Michael and said, Back to business. I will wait outside for the Magoffin group. You best say hello to your father. The girls went back to their pub duties.

While the two friendly couples were carrying on in the corner before John O’Dwyer came in, a regular to the Clover entered the front door and took his favorite spot at the end of the bar where he had full view of all entry ways. It was ‘one-eyed’ Jack Richards. Black patch over his left eye, practically toothless, unkempt, scraggly grey hair, he was ugly as sin and a nuisance to the girls. Nevertheless, he always had enough to pay for a few rounds for himself and sometimes a few other patrons, before moving on to the next pub stop up the road, and from there to the next. He was here at the Clover three or four times a week, usually mid to late afternoon, typically for a couple of hours.

What one-eyed Jack did not know was he was observed recently to be a regular visitor at the district Constabulary office, and so, to the Defenders and a few Irish Volunteers, he was persona non-grata. He was most likely a paid informer. Sam was aware as were little Jimmy and Steven. Notes were kept and information spread where it had to be about one-eyed Jack.

There were many other informers on the Constabulary tab. The number was growing and difficult to follow. Intelligence information was a necessity for aspiring patriots and Defender activities. Unfortunately, one-eyed Jack recognized a local barrister as one of the guests arriving for what appeared to Jack as a meeting of some sort and of some importance.

In a short while the Magoffin men arrived including Father Joseph Magoffin and three of his five sons, Hugh, James, and Beriah, the youngest. This way, gentlemen, directed Sam, and they were escorted to the meeting room. As one-eyed Jack counted, as many as fifteen business types arrived and joined the meeting. One-eyed Jack mumbled and chuckled to himself as he slurped his tonic brew. This was going to be a special event, indeed, he thought, for his pocketbook once he reported back to ‘the man.’ Afterall, he had concluded, a man must make a living. Right? What is a poor old sailor to do?

As Sam was about to enter the back room having tied up loose ends, he was stopped by little Jimmy O’Day. Don’t look now, Sam, but old one-eyed Jack Richards is at the end of the bar keeping track. He is a newly hatched one, seen coming out of the Constabulary office several times over the last few weeks.

I am aware and it’s bad timing for sure, replied Sam. Someone needs to have a talk with him when he leaves. Give me a heads up and I will come out to pay a visit. If my guess is right, there is about to be an infusion of upper class and professional capital to support the cause. In fact, I am thinking that perhaps it would be possible to secure some ‘ears’ inside the Constabulary for a few shillings.!

Great idea, and we’ll be sending a few fairies as well, quipped little Jimmy O’Day in good humor. They chuckled together and pushed off one another but both Sam and Jimmy knew this was serious and not a laughing matter. Jimmy went to look for Steven outside to warn and wait for one-eyed Jack’s exit.

The Not-So-Secret Meeting

The fiddler picked up the pace with a lively jig heard above the din of the growing working-class rowdies. These were dockmen and warehousemen ready to quench their thirst after a long hard day at work. Sam looked again for meeting attendees arriving but seeing none, went into the meeting. There was more brightness on this side of the building, a two-story red brick structure attached to a string of similar structures at block length with stores and shops at street level and apartment dwellings above.

Sam’s apartment was upstairs above the Clover. He was Tom O’Hare’s right-hand man and unofficially his adopted son, serving as assistant manager, bouncer extraordinaire, and Defender confidant with Tom and others, like Michael. Sam oversaw all intelligence operations.

Across the street directly in front of the Clover and in the apartment above sat a man peering out the window as the meeting was beginning, watching the coming and goings through the front door of the Clover.

As Sam entered John and Michael O’Dwyer were standing having a conversation with Joseph Magoffin. John pardoned himself and made eye contact with Sam, then Michael. They converged, John placing both hands on Michael’s shoulders and face to face exclaimed in a serious tone, Mary, your dear mother, is in labor. As you know there appears to be some risk with her age and this being her seventh go ‘round. I have taken her and your sister, Aifee (Eefa), who will serve as a midwife attendant, over to Margaret O’Toole’s place. Margaret has a ton of experience in these matters. Your mother is in good hands, the best.

Michael responded, Father, what can I do, what do you request of me?

John said, After the meeting I will go there, it’s not far. I want you, Michael, to go assist your sister, Ciara (Keera), at home making sure the house and bedding are clean. Make sure, Michael, there are plenty of bog slates for the fire and that a nice lamb stew is prepared. Have some goat’s milk and tea ready, as well, together with bread and butter. I think we are running low on honey. Then I want you to tend to the animals, particularly the cattle and sheep. The Marquis’ representatives were by to see me regarding the rent. We will sell sheep and a few cattle to go with a vegetable harvest. The carrot s and radishes are ready, I believe, last I looked.

Is that all, Father? Do you want I should go now?

No, son, let’s listen together to what is going to be said here, then we will both skedaddle, replied John. Michael smiled and gave John a hug. We will be praying for Mother Mary and her child.

John turned to sit in the nearest chair motioning for Michael to sit next to him. Sam had overheard the conversation and sat placing John in the middle, nudging John, and shaking his hand. What a blessing, he whispered to John as the meeting began in earnest.

There were four men sitting in chairs facing the main group. Three were well dressed, the fourth, Tom O’Hare, the pub proprietor, not so much. Sam counted twenty attendees including himself and the O’Dwyers. Sam recognized several shop owners and shopkeepers, also several dockmen and warehousemen, a few of them boss types and managers. Tom O’Hare stood to speak and give introductions, pausing to have a word with the special guests.

As he did so, a certain person from the upstairs window across Shamrock Street came down and took a casual stroll by the Clover to the rear of the building to take an accounting and make description of the horses and carriages parked in the grassy tree lined lot behind the pub.

There he counted fifteen horses and three horse drawn carriages and a couple of heavier wagons drawn by work horses. He noticed the livery stable and shed with attendant present tending to the horses. Then as looked around the lot, in the shade of a large birch tree, was a man saddled upon a large Connemara grey, chewing on a piece of straw and looking right back at him. The casual stroller turned an about face and returned to his apartment, looking over his shoulder as he turned the corner of the building.

Tom O’Hare spoke to the group, Gentlemen, welcome and thanks for coming to this social event. I want to emphasize that point. There is no risk in gathering peacefully to discuss current events."

At that, big Sam McAllister quickly raised his massive hand, stood up, and said, To be sure, the Constabulary knows we are here, my friends. Just be aware, thanks. I’ll shut my mouth.

Tom said, Let’s get on with it. I want to introduce the main guest speaker, prominent barrister and defender of innocent men under the laws we find ourselves, this is Theobald Wolfe Tone.

Mr. Tone stood as Mr. O’Hare sat. He was holding a brief case and set it down in his chair. He began by saying, Gentlemen, it is an honor and privilege to be with you today. To begin, first let me clarify that although I do represent many innocent souls, I also have the duty to represent many not so innocent men! That comment drew some laughter. Then he remarked, and yes, you can call me Wolfe! Drawing a few more chuckles.

Wolfe Tone, The Father of Irish Republicanism

If I bore you with what I am about to say, please be patient; Tom will have a strong refreshment, I’m told, for the guests when we are done as reward. Mr. Tone teased drawing more laughter.

Gentlemen, let me begin by introducing two comrades and former Irish Volunteers down from Belfast, merchant Samuel Neilson, and Doctor William Drennan. The two, sitting on either side, stood briefly, bowed, and sat back down. Wolfe continued, These gentlemen are here to bear witness to this gathering of Irish patriots. They both attended the Convention of Irish Volunteers at Dungannon in ’82. In the first place we can all thank the Americans for their inspiring revolution which led to the evacuation of British regular troops and resulted in the formation of the Volunteer militia. This militia was organized, as we all are aware, to protect The Crown’s holiest of possessions, Ireland herself. How ironic that Irish protestants, including Anglicans and Presbyterians, would join Irish Catholics, the majority by far, to suppress any invasion of Ireland on behalf of Her Crown Majesty. Some in the room were nodding their heads in recognition of the hypocrisy.

As we are also aware, Wolfe continued, there developed a common patriotism and nationalism among the Volunteers. This led to Dungannon and to a greater legislative independence with The Irish Appeals Act of 1783. Just as important and before Dungannon, you will recall, The Papist Act of 1782 opened the way for Catholics to join the army and purchase land under oath of allegiance to The Crown. What hypocrisy? But we are grateful for it! the guests applauded briefly.

Wolfe continued, I hope I am not boring you with these reminders because everything we are attempting to do stems from these events and puts everything into context. Wolfe paused then said, Now then, by the grace of God, a few Catholics can vote if they can meet property qualifications. By the way, how many in this room who are Catholic, can vote? A few raised their hands, including John O’Dwyer and a couple of shop owners. "And how many in total?’ Several other guests raised their hands, including Joseph Magoffin.

However, Sam could see for the past several minutes that the large elder Magoffin in the front row was nodding in the negative and squirming about in his seat, restless to speak. Indeed, he rose to interrupt Wolfe, and Sam thought, God help us, here we go; there will be some volcanic eruptions before this meeting is concluded.

The tall strong Scotsman said with his Scots’ accent, Pardon the interruption, Mr. Tone. I am Joseph Magoffin. We met briefly before the meeting started. I am here to represent a group of Presbyterian business owners up the road in Newry, County Down. What’s more I am here as an example to all. My plight is their plight. Excuse me, sir, but I have an idea where this is going.

Magoffin paused to try to calm himself then began again with, My Magoffin ancestors were mostly ironmasters. We were displaced here as colonists from our ancestral lands in Scotland as colonists a hundred years ago. We all know why. Indeed, I have recently begun to realize that we have served the purpose of The Crown to perfection in displacing the Catholics. We all understand the sectarian religious rift that has plagued us all, and the whole of Ireland herself, which we have all come to love.

Still, Magoffin described, what you are pointing to is independence, but I say there is no possibility that Westminster will let go the commercial stranglehold about tariffs and trade that have decimated Presbyterians and Catholics. I say that even with Catholic emancipation and the right to vote and obtain a majority, the Anglican dominated establishment in Irish Parliament, backed by Westminster, will never let go the hold of their commercial advantages. Nay, the only way would be to have an Irish Parliament majority of Catholics and Presbyterians and that I am afraid is impossible.

Magoffin concluded by explaining, I will end my comments and hope not to discourage the goals and objectives by describing for you present here that my iron forge business is under great duress and loss as I speak. I am an ironmaster; my sons have been trained to be the same and manage the business in the future, if there is one. Over the past ten years the science of iron smelting and efficient production of iron products has exploded on the mainland of Great Britain, but not here. The control of tariffs and advancements in science by the English on the mainland and the establishment Anglicans here have destroyed any reasonable competitiveness for my old family livelihood. My forge is half what it was and supports but ten to twenty families as compared to fifty just ten years past. Magoffin sat; head bowed.

Wolfe Tone rose and replied, "I truly hope we are not too late to help, sir. In fact, that is the typical story we would attempt to change and to remedy. But it will take the extra amount of patience required. Any others wishing to share words before we proceed?’

John O’Dwyer stood and began, It’s altogether a bit strange to hear Protestants complain, with all due respect Mr. Magoffin. In fact, I have bought and used your many well-made iron products on my tenant farm. Your augers and plow parts and the like I am familiar with, and I am a satisfied customer of yours. My sons here today you may know or through your sons know and are acquainted.

O’Dwyer paused then said, My Sept, my Clan, if you will, was also displaced. We did quite well for about a thousand years, sirs, before being displaced. The O’Dwyer Sept has struggled and in great part been dispersed over more than a one-hundred-year period, Mr. Magoffin, as your family was arriving. I and a few other O’Dwyers were at least ‘half lucky’ to have been able to stay in our beloved Ireland and raise our families…as tenant farmers, more like serfs or slaves albeit, but alas, now in part as landowners. Thanks, in part, as you said and described, Mr. Tone, to the American Revolution, and the inroads made. There have been improvements and I am thankful.

Mr. O’Dwyer continued by saying, My oldest son, Michael, his old friend Sam McAllister, both sitting next to me here, we are here to protect the gains we have made over recent years. Sirs, further progress in this quest of freedom and autonomy, as I suspect will be your effort to describe here today and in days to come, will require not only patience, but caution and consensus. Caution and consensus, together with patience are essential requirements. We do not want to go backwards but rather forwards in all this. Thank you for allowing me, a Catholic no less, to speak. Mr. O’Dwyer sat back down.

All attendees were now applauding and nodding approval. That is consensus working, thought Sam McAllister, who hugged John. John, in turn, made a face with tongue displaced and murmured, Don’t crush me to death, you big ape! Sam laughed. He loved old man John like a father. He never knew his own. Tom was another father to him.

Wolfe continued, Gentlemen, we on the podium appreciate your words. Mr. Magoffin, Mr. O’Dwyer, thank you both for the two perspectives, the two contrasts. To continue I wish to point out that we have another revolution underway in France. France is in upheaval by the peasantry and on fire, literally and figuratively. Mr. Neilson and Doctor Drennan are about to begin production of a pro-French newspaper supporting the French Revolution with its editorial views describing it’s root causes.

Indeed, gentlemen, the French are following the Americans for the same reasons, the same principles, all in opposition to Tyranny and Oppression. Gentlemen, I have here the writing of one Thomas Paine, born an Englishman, now an American citizen. His pamphlet, Common Sense, I have for distribution today. I also have copies of the American Declaration of Independence. These documents explore, explain, and describe the intellectual rationale and moral causes, indeed many of the righteous causes that support both revolutions. Ireland is poised to benefit from these revelations.

The essence, sirs, lies in the fact that we humans, as individuals, are born equal creations by God himself with God given rights! Wolfe Tone boldly stated with aplomb.

Wolfe continued as applause abated, I have, we have, as he turned to his esteemed guests on the podium, a strong notion, a belief, that the British Crown, in all its splendor and pompous imperialism, is going to recognize the folly here in Ireland, with examples in America and France, and go elsewhere to tame the savages, as they say. Elsewhere would be India and the African Subcontinent and leave Ireland to the Irish. The applause became more vigorous especially with the Catholics in attendance.

Gentlemen, the possibilities start with meetings like this one. Up in Belfast Mr. Neilson and Dr. Drennan are calling it the Irish Brotherhood. That is a predominantly a Belfast group of Protestants. We want to expand the movement in Dublin. I would like to call it the Society of United Irishmen to include all Protestant denominations and all Catholics, the vast majority. Our goal is Irish independence on a republican model, like America, and with a similar Constitution. The movement will include restoration of all Civic Rights to Catholics, Wolfe concluded.

"Bravo! Bravo as all rose to applaud.

As quiet was restored, Sam McAllister took his turn to speak. He was not shy about it. Briefly, gentlemen, all is good when we are united and have consensus, as Mr. Dwyer here pointed out. But unfortunately, sirs, we are not there by any stretch of the imagination. If you are telling me that the Peep O’ Day Boys are uniting with the Catholic Defenders, I for one will have to take a wait and see attitude.

Exactly, and good point, sir, responded Wolfe. That would be an important step in the process. That process for change is about educating those set in their old ways of thinking and behaving, and not in the best interest of the common good for all Irishmen. Let’s begin the process by distributing materials like the ones we have with us today. Let’s spread the information far and wide throughout Ireland. Let’s put the pro-French newspaper Mr. Neilson and Mr. Drennan are about to launch into the hands of every Irishman.

Wolfe continued, We do what we must do to increase awareness of our common goals peacefully, not losing any ground but instead gaining ground. I can assure you all here today, that though the Irish Parliament is heavily Anglican establishment controlled, there is, as I speak, a strong leaning toward Irish independence. Members of Parliament, MPs like Mr. Gratton, who is Anglican, are greatly interested in a republican arrangement of government for Ireland. There was more applause and a few whoops!

Michael looked over his father’s backside at Sam to nod and wink, but Sam shook his head in disbelief and whispered, We shall see.

Let me leave you all with this, as Mr. Tone picked