to them now; and the Parliamentary officers were obliged to issue proclamations inviting their return, and promising them safety and protection.  But the grand object of the revolutionary party was still to carry out the wild scheme of unpeopling Ireland of the Irish, and planting it anew with English—­a scheme which had been so often attempted, and had so signally failed, that one marvels how it could again have been brought forward.  Still there were always adventurers ready to fight for other men’s lands, and subjects who might be troublesome at home, whom it was found desirable to occupy in some way abroad.  But a grand effort was made now to get rid of as many Irishmen as possible in a peaceable manner.  The valour of the Irish soldier was well known abroad;[491] and agents from the King of Spain, the King of Poland, and the Prince de Conde, were contending for those brave fellows, who were treated like slaves in their native land; and then, if they dared resist, branded with the foul name of rebels.  If a keen had rung out loud and long when O’Donnell left his native land never to return, well might it ring out now yet more wildly.  In May, 1652, Don Ricardo White shipped 7,000 men for the King of Spain; in September, Colonel Mayo collected 3,000 more; Lord Muskerry took 5,000 to Poland; and, in 1654, Colonel Dwyer went to serve the Prince de Conde with 3,500 men.  Other officers looked up the men who had served under them, and expatriated themselves in smaller parties; so that, between 1651 and 1654, 34,000 Irishmen had left their native land; and few, indeed, ever returned to its desolate shores.

But their lot was merciful compared with the fate of those who still remained.  In 1653 Ireland was considered sufficiently depopulated by war and emigration to admit of a commencement of the grand planting.  The country was again portioned out; again the ruling powers selected the best portion of the land for themselves and their favourites; again the religion of the country was reformed, and Protestant prelates were condemned as loudly, though they were not hunted as unmercifully, as Popish priests; again the wild and lawless adventurer was sent to eject the old proprietor, who might starve or beg while the intruder held his lands, and sheltered himself in his mansion, while a new cruelty was enacted, a new terror devised, a new iniquity framed, and this by rulers who talked so loudly of political and religious liberty.  It was not convenient, more probably, it was not possible, to massacre all the native population who still survived; so they were to be banished—­banished to a corner of their own land, imprisoned there safely by their ruthless conquerors, and there, without hope or help, it was supposed they must soon die out quietly.

This is the official proclamation which was issued on the subject:  “The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England, having, by an Act lately passed (entitled an Act for the Settling of Ireland), declared that it is not their intention to extirpate this whole nation ... it is ordered that the Governor and Commissioners of Revenue ... do cause the said Act of Parliament, with this present declaration, to be published and proclaimed in their respective precincts, by beat of drum and sound of trumpet, on some market-day within ten days after the same shall come unto them within their respective precincts.”