THE GAUGER'S RUN.

New Zealander, Volume 3, Issue 176, 5 February 1848, Page 3

THE GAUGER'S RUN.

I luppose there are few who have not heard of the demoralisation and crimes produced in Ireland by illicit distillation. In the present day there are compara* tively few diiorders from this cause, ai the excite laws have been considerably modified, and the appetite for whisky has become less uncomprising. Some yean ago, however, the people in those parts of the country where the distilling of spirits was carried on clandestinely, were at constant war with the officers of excise, and the moit fearful encounters took place between them. la Donegal, where I reiided with my family, we law much more of this than was at all pleasant, and on one occasion was accidentally involved in one of these ever-occurring qutrreU. It was a very beautiful morning in June, and I was preparing to descend to the breakfast parlour, when I was startler on hearing a noise at tbe gate in front of the dwelling. Looking out to tee what was the matter, I obierved that one of the domestics wai refusing admittance to a decent'y dressed man, who was urgently and anxiously trying to get into my premises. Hastening to ascertain the cause of the disturbance, I soon learned that the suppliant for shelter .was an unfortunate excise officer— or 'gauger,' as he was called by the country people. ( Oh, for mercy's sake,' cried the distracted man, • let me into your house ; lock me up somewhere or anywhere ; hide me, save me, or I am a dead man !' I did not hesitate to bring him in, and making him sit down, I offered him refreshment, as he appeared exhausted and faint. I begged of him to recover himself, and to take courage, as there was no danger. At this moment an immense crowd of men and boys surrounded my house ; and one of the men came forward to the door mnd demanded admission. I opened the window to inquire what he wanted. He replied ' you have got the gauger in your house, lir, and we must have him out — we want him.' 1 What do you want him for ?' • Oh, your reverence, begging your honour's pardon, that's no business or yours to meddle in ; we want him, and must have him.' * That may be, but I can't allow it : he is under my roof; he has come claiming my hospitality, and I must and will give him shelter and protection.' ' Doctor, there ate two words to that bargain. You ought to have asked us before you let him in. And to be plain with you f doctor, we really respect you very much — you are an honest good neighbour, and mind your own business ; and we would make the men sore and sorry that would dare to touch a hair af your head. But you must give us the gauger. To be at a word with you, doctor, we roust either tear open or tear down your house, or get him ; for get him we will !' What was to be done ? I could do nothing. I had no gun or pi.tol in the house. ' So,' says 1, ' boys, you must and will, seems, do as you like. But mind, 1 protest against what you are about ; but since you must have your own way, at you are Irishmen, I demand fair play from you. The man inside had ten

minutes law of you when he cam* to my home : 1 ( g. him have the same lavr still : let him not be the worse of the shelter I have given him. Do you now go back to tb© hill yonder, at the side of the house, and I will let him out at the hall door, and let the poor fellow have the itart, giving him hit ten minutes' law.' I was in hopei that, by gaining theie fen minutei, my man, who wa9 young and healthy, would be able to reach the ri»er Lennan, which r«n deep snd broad, between high and rocky banks, about a quarter of a mile off in front of the home, and, by swimming acros*, that he would effect his escape from his pursuers. The enemy outside agreed that the proposal was a fair one ; at any rate they promised to abide by. it. My refugee, seeing the dire necessity of the case, consented to leave his shelter. I enlarged him at the hall door : the mob; true to its pledge, stood' on the lull about two hundred yards distant. The guager started off like a. deep, and as a hunted deer he ran his beiU He cleared* the first little rivulet in excellent style, and just as he was rising the hilly ridge which divided the smaller from the broader stream, his pursuers broke loose like a pack of hounds in full chase. The huntsmen were all Highlandmen — tall, loose, active, young, with breathand sinew strong to breast a mountain ; men, who many a time and oft, o'er bo? and brae, had run// em the gauger, and now they were afUr him with fast foot and fu'l cry. From the hall door the whole course of the hunt could be seen ; they, helter-skelter down the lawn, rushing swift and wild ; he, trudging along, toiling up the opposite hill, and straining every nerve to gain the top. At length he passed the ridge, and, disappearing, rushed down to the Lennan. Here, out of breath, and no time to strip or hesitate, he took the water, and boldly made the plunge into the foaming river. A bad swimmer, out of breath, encumbered with his clothes, the water rushing dark ?1 deep, and rapid, amid surrounding rocks— the pwman struggled, and strnggled on for life ; the enemy yelled behind' him, whilst a watery grave seemed to encompass him about. Frightened and exhausted, he had well nigh sunk for ever— another minute and he had been a drowned man — when his pursuers coining np, two or three of the boldest and best swimmers rushed into the river and saved him. The huntsmen now gathered round their strickn and captive deer. They rolled the poor man about until they had got the water he had swallowed out of his stomach ; they dried his body with their long freize coats ; twenty hands were engaged in rubbing him into warmth. They did everything humanity could suggest to bring him to life. Happily our friend had not fallen into the cruel clatcbes of a pirty of Rockites, who are more careful of the life of a pig than of a human creature I No ; the Donegal mountaineers had a deed to do— but not a deed of death ; they were about a deh-i berate work — but not a work of blood. The moment the poor guager was restored to life (and in order to contribute and hasten his recovery, an ample dose of the ' poteen' he had come to prosecute wa9 poured down his throat), they proceeded to tie a bandage over his eyes, and mounting him on a pony, off they set with their captive to the mountains. Removing him from place to place, during a whole day, through glens and defiles— up one mountain and down another — at length towards the close of a summer's evening, they brought him to the secluded lake of Glen Veagh. Here they embarked in a curragli, op wicker boat ; and after rowing him up and down the lake for some hours, they landed him on a little island, where was a hut, which often served as a shelter to the fowler, as he watched his aim at the wild water-birds of the lake, and still ofcener as the ' still-house' to the distiller of poteen. Here W3S our captive led, and consigned to the charge of two trusty men— the banda c i still carefully kept on bis eyes. He was well cared for, and fed on trout, grouse, hares, chickens, and other delicacies of the place and season ; plenty of poteen, mixed with the pure water of the lake, was his portion to drink • and for six weeks he was thus kept cooped up, as it were, in the dark, like a fattening fowl. The period of hh strange captivity being now about to expiie, his keepers one morning took him under the arm and conducted him to a boat, in which thry rowed him up and down from island to island. Then they brought him to the mainland, put him on a pony, and again, for the length of a day, led him hither and thither, through glen aod mountain, till towards the close of night, the bewildered but now liberated gauger finds himself alone on the high road to Letterkenny. The poor man returned home that night to his family, who had given him over, weeks ago, as either mur* dered or gone to America. Yet how changed he stood before their eyes ! — not as a grim ghost at the door, but as a well fed, fat, and happy-looking man. Now, it may be asked, why all this mad pursuit to catch a guager, merely to fatten him and let him loose again ? The capture was a matter of important consequence to the mountaineers. A lawless deed it surely was, yet almost pardonable, seeing that the result might have produced serioui consequences to the perpetrators in the district. To repress the system of illicit distillation in Ireland, amongst other enactment!, there was an act passed, as contrary to the spirit of the British constitution as to the common principle* of right and justice— a law punishing the innocent in sub* stitution for the guilty I This law made the townland in which the still was found, or any part of the process of distillation detected, liable to pay* heavy fine, to be levied on all its landholders. The consequence of this act (now repealed) was, that the whole north of Ire. land was involved in one common confiscation. It was the ffactil triumph of gaugers and informers over landlords and proprietors. Acting on this anti-social and iniguitou* system, the gauger of the district in. question had informations to the amount of £7,000 against its several town lands. These information! were to be brought forward at the approaching aisizes, and, if sustained, as uo doubt they would, the result would be utter ruin to the people. With such a prospect before them, and in the circumstances mentioned, the plot was laid for the seizure and forcible abduction of the revenue officer. It having been known that, some time previous to the azzizes, the gauger was to pass through the district, on his way to the coast, and it being also known that he kept those informations about his person, the scheme wss therefore to waylay him and keep him prisoner, in safe custody, out of the way and out of eight, until the assizes were over. And well and effectually the pi in succeeded ! The crown officer not being forthcoming at the assizes, the prosecutions, as a matter of course, fell to the ground, and the people generally were saved from loss, if not ruin. And so ended this curioua case of revenue law — a law which, with other legislative abu?es, helped to make 1 1 eland very much what it is.— Chambers Edinburgh Jonrnat. 1 Why don't you limit yourtelf ?' said a physician to an intemperate person ; ' set down a, stake that you go so far and no farther.' 'So I do,' said the toper, ' but I set it so far off that \ always get; dru.uk before I get to it. A Scotch professional gentleman, who wai called on to visit the Queen in the course of her journey, asked one of the gentlemen, in attendance on the royal patty, if any particular manners were necessary. None, Hir,' was the reply j • you nill only recollect thai the Queen ii a lady.'