farmers, to a great extent, evaded the tax, and left the small
occupiers to bear nearly the whole burden; they even avoided mowing
the meadows in some cases, because then they should pay tithe for the
hay.

There was besides a tax called church cess, levied by Protestants in
vestry meetings upon Roman Catholics for cleaning the church, ringing
the bell, washing the minister's surplice, purchasing bread and wine
for the communion, and paying the salary of the parish clerk. This
tax was felt to be a direct and flagrant violation of the rights of
conscience, and of the principles of the British constitution; and
against it there was a determined opposition, which manifested itself
in tumultuous and violent assemblages at the parish churches all
over the country on Easter Monday, when the rector or his curate, as
chairman of the meeting, came into angry collision with flocks who
disowned him, and denounced him as a tyrant, a persecutor, and a
robber.

But the tithe impost was the one most grievously felt, and at last the
peasantry resolved to resist it by force.

Nothing could be more violent than the contrasts presented at this
time in the social life of Ireland. On the one side there was a rapid
succession of atrocities and tragedies fearful to contemplate: the
bailiffs, constabulary, and military driving away cattle, sheep, pigs,
and geese to be sold by public auction, to pay the minister who had no
congregation to whom he could preach the gospel; the cattle-prisons
or 'pounds' surrounded by high walls, but uncovered, wet and dirty,
crowded with all sorts of animals, cold and starved, and uttering
doleful sounds; the driving away of the animals in the night from one