sorbed, and became
more Irish than the Irish themselves. As their island city grew in
opulence, they began to assert an independence similar to the free
cities of the Continent. A historical writer of repute points out that
they were practically independent of external authority. Their edicts
had nearly the force of laws. They levied taxes, and regulated commerce.
They judged, pilloried, and hanged offenders. To suit themselves they
modified the English laws of property. They set up a mint of their own,
and their money had to be declared by the English Parliament to be
"utterly damned."

Their audacity can be imagined from the part they played in Perkin
Warbeck's rebellion of 1492. They decked him out "with some clothes of
silk," and John Walters, the Mayor, insisting that the poor Fleming was
son to the Duke of Clarence, demanded that the Lord Deputy should
declare him King. Failing in this a number of Cork merchants sent him to
France, where they duped the King, and induced the Duchess of Burgundy
to give them armament and money. They then sailed for Kent, and having
landed there, proclaimed their foundling "Richard the Fourth, King of
England and Lord of Ireland." But the sequel of all this bravura
behaviour was not so happy, as Warbeck and Walters lost their heads, and
Cork lost its charter.

In 1847 the city suffered fearfully from the ravages of famine and
famine fever. The failure of the potato crop drove the unfortunate,
hunger-stricken peasantry into the city for sustenance; and it has been
estimated that upwards of a million of people emigrated in these unhappy
years through the port of Cork. During the Fenian movement, 1865-67,
Cork was a hotbed of treason, and more prisoners were sentenced from
there than from all the other parts of Ireland put together. Thus, in
the nineteenth century, the name of "Rebel Cork," which was earned so
far back as the time of Perkin Warbeck, was still deserved.

The manners of the people, gentle and simple, rich and poor, are
perfect. There is, perhaps, too often a tendency to adopt your view of
anything or everything with the most accommodating agreeableness. This
is very pleasant, if not always sincere, but in this respect a thing
never to be forgotten is that Cork is only a few miles from Blarney, and

"There is a stone there, whoever kisses,
Oh! he never misses to grow eloquent.
'Tis he may clamber to a lady's chamber,
Or become a Member of Parliament.