The British rule over Ireland has always been extremely repressive. In the 13th and 14th centuries, the English even shouted the slogan that killing an Irishman is equivalent to killing a dog. This shows how serious the conflicts between ethnic groups were at that time. , how cruel the war is.
In the seventeenth century, after Cromwell came to power, this devout Puritan personally led an army to conquer Ireland. In that massacre, more than 400,000 Irish people died, and the total population of the entire Irish population at that time was only Just over 1.5 million.
A war reduced the entire ethnic group to nearly one-third, which shows how cunning the English were. There were not only conflicts between the colonizers and the colonized, but also sectarian conflicts. At that time, there was a war between Catholics and Protestants for nearly a hundred years, and countless blood was shed on the European continent.
After Cromwell's conquest, British rule over Ireland reached a historical limit, and many cruel policies began to be implemented from that time.
In order to resolve the army's arrears of pay and the land demands of the British bourgeoisie, the British Parliament confiscated and auctioned 11 million acres of Ireland's total 20 million acres of cultivated land. This was the Ming Dynasty. More than half of the land changed its owners, and the Irish people suddenly changed from the original landlord class to the tenant class.
Subsequently, land annexation became more and more serious. In 1648, Irish Catholics still owned 59% of the land in Ireland. By 1751, they only had 5% of the land in Ireland.
The land they depended on for survival was taken away, and other rights to survival were also deprived. They did not have the right to vote, could not hire more than two apprentices, could not study abroad, could not apply for degrees and scholarships at universities, and could not hold public office or serve on juries. , lawyers and teachers were not allowed to attend parliament, were not allowed to buy land, and even the value of personal property was restricted. For example, they could not own horses worth more than 5 pounds.
How is this national integration? This is simply a cruel punishment for heretics.
Do you think this is the end of it? Let the whole Irish people become tenants of the English and let them off the hook? Don't be too naive, the British's cruel methods are yet to come.
Ireland was prohibited from exporting goods overseas, and its industries, such as its once-developed woolen industry, were destroyed and it became a completely agricultural country. What's worse is that this agrarian status is even subsidiary.
In order to ensure the supply of food needed for its own industrial development, the United Kingdom completely controlled Ireland's food exports. Most of the barley, wheat, oats and other food must be provided to the United Kingdom, while Irish farmers could only rely on high-yielding and cheap potatoes to satisfy their hunger. .
Don’t ask stupid questions about why not eat mincemeat. The poor Irish simply did not have the cash to pay taxes to the British. They had to pay taxes to the British with wheat, barley, oats and other mainstream foods.
It is conceivable that the only food left is potatoes. Therefore, the Irish are not born to love potatoes. They are forced to eat potatoes. They have no other choice except potatoes.
It was the Irish people's over-reliance on a single crop, the potato, that allowed a common crop disease to suddenly evolve into a disease that engulfed the entire island.
From here we can see the skill of the British. The war is just an auxiliary. What is really used to stifle the future of the Irish is business. It is a commercial blockade policy with layers of shackles. Customs is the key to the British cutting off the connection between the Irish and the world. tool.
You Irish people can't even think of doing business with this world alone. You can't earn a single coin from the outside world, and you can't enjoy every grain of grain and abundant commodities in the outside world.
Poverty will completely destroy this nation, making you fewer and fewer in number, more and more marginalized, and eventually completely lost in the long river of history.
The Customs House has become a flashpoint for the hatred of the Irish. The source of their hunger and poverty lies here. When the mercenaries blew open the door of the Customs House with guns, the Irish mobilized from the slums went completely crazy. .
"The Customs House is on fire! The British can't stop it! Fight in! Kill all the English!"
"Long live independence! Long live Ireland!" The angry crowd rushed forward in a swarm, their boots trampling on the street, and the whole earth began to shake.
There was only one squad of soldiers stationed at the customs building and more than a dozen police officers. This number was not enough for this group of lunatics. In addition, the uprising was so confidential that they were not at all wary. nothing.
When the dying screams of the soldiers at the watchtower at the gate woke them up, some of the guards and policemen didn't even put on their pants.
There was a reverberation in the dormitory, tables and chairs were knocked down, and a basin in the corner was kicked over. The soldiers looked around sleepily, "Where is the enemy? Who is the enemy?"
"Where's my rifle? Where's the key to the ammunition box? Damn it, where did the thugs dare to storm the customs building?"
With a bang, a policeman covered in blood broke open the dormitory where the soldiers lived. He saw that a foot-long blood groove had been cut out of the back of his heart by a bayonet. He fell to the ground as soon as he entered the room.
"Quick...it's the Young Ireland Party...they...they're back..." Before he could finish his words, a large mouthful of black blood spat out from his mouth, and the coagulated blood sloshed on the ground like bloody tofu.
"It's them!" The soldiers were all crazy. They didn't care about their uniforms or weapons. They picked up whatever they could and rushed out in a swarm. Some even rushed out carrying benches.
A group of fully armed mercenaries were seen in the corridor. The Moorish warrior at the head smiled and raised his hand, and the mercenaries behind him stopped collectively.
"Get ready to shoot..." The Moorish warriors in the front row and the other two soldiers suddenly knelt down half-kneeling on their shoulders. The mercenaries in the back stood in a standing position, loading bullets behind them and preparing to shoot.
"Fire!" An order was given, bang bang bang... The corridor was filled with gunpowder smoke, and bullets were shot out row after row. The mercenaries who fired and loaded the weapons cooperated perfectly with each other, and the rain of bullets was airtight and there was no wind. Interrupt.
The British soldiers and policemen who rushed out from the opposite side were immediately swept down in large numbers. The soldier who was shot was shaking like a convulsion. The bullet entered from the chest and brought out a puff of blood mist from the back.
"Stop shooting...fix bayonets!"
The gleaming dog-headed sword rubbed against the wall, creating first-class sparks, and the diffuse gunpowder smoke obscured the warrior's progress. None of them could see clearly what was happening on the other side, and no one knew whether there was any fish that had slipped through the net.
"Death to you thugs!" A scream was heard in the mist, and a bayonet was seen piercing the smoke and heading straight for the throat of the Moorish warrior.
With a crisp sound, the dog-headed knife missed the direction of the bayonet. The Moorish warrior turned sideways to let the bayonet pass. He sneered and said, "If you choose my heart, maybe this knife can still hurt me..."
"It's a pity that you British people are so arrogant. You want to pierce my throat? You are overestimating your own capabilities..."
With a clang, the blade split open the flesh and blood, and the bright red blood splashed on the bald head of the Moorish warrior. The body of the British squad leader hit the ground heavily.
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