larity of the marauder. If to us
they were objects of ridicule and derision, to the townspeople they were
images of terror and dismay. The miserable shopkeeper who housed one of
them lived in continual fear; he knew nothing to be his own, and felt
that his property and family were every moment at the dictate of a
ruffian gang, who acknowledged no law, nor any rule save their own will
and convenience. Dowall's squad were indeed as great a terror in that
little town as I had seen the great name of Robespierre in the proud
city of Paris.

In my temporary position on General Serasin's staff, I came to hear much
of this fellow's conduct. The most grievous stories were told me every
day of his rapacity and cruelty; but, harassed and overworked as the
general was with duties that would have been overmuch for three or four
men, I forebore to trouble him with recitals which could only fret and
distress him without affording the slightest chance of relief to others.
Perhaps this impunity had rendered him more daring, or, perhaps, the
immense number of armed Irish in comparison with the small force of
disciplined soldiers, emboldened the fellow; but certainly he grew day
by day more presumptuous and insolent, and at last so far forgot himself
as to countermand one of General Serasin's orders, by which a guard
was stationed at the Protestant church to prevent its being molested or
injured by the populace.

General Humbert had already refused the Roman Catholic priest his
permission to celebrate mass in that building, but Dowall had determined
otherwise, and that, too, by a written order, under his own hand. The
French sergeant who commanded the guard of course paid little attention
to this warrant; and when Father Hennisy wanted to carry the matter with
a high hand, he coolly tore up the paper, and threw the fragments at
him.

Dowall was soon informed of the slight offered to his mandate. He was at
supper at the time, entertaining a party of his friends, who all heard
the priest's story, and, of course, loudly sympathised with his sorrows,
and invoked the powerful leader's aid and protection. Affecting to
believe that the sergeant had merely acted in ignorance, and from not
being able to read English, Dowall despatched a fellow whom he called
his aide-de-camp, a schoolmaster named Lowrie, and who spoke a little
bad French, to interpret his command, and to desire the sergeant to
withdraw his men, and give up the guard to a party