Anglo-Irish : Divide To Rule.

(Ode to Skibbereen)

By John Hodgkinson.

7th September, 2013.

Trevelyan. Butcher of Ireland.


Disinformation is a subtle thing. When the feudal period ended and universal suffrage was introduced, the ruling classes who had oppressed, exploited, raped, starved and murdered the common people were faced with a difficult situation. How to escape reprisal for their dark deeds ? How to avoid being called to account ? How, in a word, to stay in power ? The solution, however, was simple : control the media, and disinform for your lives. They did, and it worked. There follows the 'BBC History' article about Charles Edward Trevelyan, butcher of the Irish people during The Great Famine (1845-52). It makes interesting reading, for it is disinformation well done. Please bear in mind also when reading this delicious little piece that it comes from the same people who aided and abetted 'Sir' Jimmy Savile while this monster raped (and worse) hundreds of English kids. All this, if you please, at taxpayers' expense.


Charles Edward Trevelyan (2nd April, 1807 - 19th June, 1886)

Trevelyan was a Victorian colonial administrator and the father of the modern British civil service.

Charles Edward Trevelyan was born on 2 April 1807 in Taunton where his father was a clergyman. His ability to learn foreign languages resulted in his posting as a writer to the East India Company's civil service in Bengal in 1826. A year later he was named assistant to the English commissioner at Delhi. For the next four years he made it his special work to improve the living conditions of the local population and to modernise trade, by eliminating duties on internal trade.

The 1830s were important to Trevelyan for a number of reasons, chief among them that he married Hannah Moore, the sister of Thomas Macaulay, the great historian, who was then a member of the supreme council of India.Trevelyan himself had taken a post in the government in Calcutta where he devoted himself to the cause of education, particularly of providing Indians with schooling in European science and literature.

By 1840, Trevelyan had returned to London where for the next 19 years he served as assistant secretary to the Treasury. In this position, he had responsibility for administering relief during the famine in Ireland (1845-1847). He has come to represent the British government's controversial policies of minimal intervention and attempting to encourage self-reliance, and he remains a contentious figure in Ireland.

His most lasting contribution, however, began in the 1850s with the publication of his and Sir Stafford Northcote's report on 'The Organisation of the Permanent Civil Service'. The report led to the transformation of the civil service. Educational standards and competitive admission examinations ensured that a more qualified body of civil servants would become administrators.

In 1858, after the Indian Mutiny, Trevelyan returned to India as governor of Madras. He was recalled after he released some government information that was deemed an act 'subversive to all authority.' He was vindicated and returned to India as finance minister from 1862 to 1865. In his later years in England, he was involved in various charitable enterprises and supported other important reforms regarding the purchase of army commissions and advancements, as well as the organisation of the army. He died on 19 June 1886.

In the very first sentence of this article, Trevelyan is described as "the father of the modern British civil service". Already, he is a father figure and, like myself, he is British. One nation, you see. One family. Next, we learn that "his father was a clergyman". In fact, his father was an archdeacon, but 'clergyman' sounds better. That means he was one of us, one of the people. And of course, as one of the people, we learn next that he "made it his special work to improve the living conditions of the local population" in Delhi, India. The British Empire, you are led to understand, is one big family where the clergyman's son works for the common good. And so he did too in Ireland, where The Great Famine, according to the BBC's text, lasted only two years, from 1845 to 1847. The hundreds of thousands of victims from 1848, 1849, 1850, 1851 and 1852 somehow disappear, at the stroke of a pen. But the BBC, tax-funded, are fair-minded people, they grant that the British government's policy in poor, starving Ireland was "controversial" and that Trevelyan, the mass murderer, "remains a contentious figure in Ireland". This is what is known as an even-handed approach to history. The butcher becomes "a contentious figure" for the butchered. Ireland. Poor Ireland. It gets a mention from the BBC but, subtly, our article moves swiftly on to inform us that Trevelyan's "most lasting contribution, however, began in the 1850's with ... (his) transformation of the British Civil Service ... (which) ensured that a more qualified body of civil servants would become administrators". Please note the crafty use of the adverb "however". It pushes Ireland conveniently into the background and leads us smoothly on to the more important point : Sir Charles was an excellent administrator, this man was all about "educational standards and competitive admission examinations", devoted to the common good, once again, once and forever. In short, a meritocrat. Blood lines and class warfare are nowhere to be seen. No, no, we are governed by the great and the good, they have a right and a duty to do what they do, and all this is for our own working-class good, world without end, Amen.

Unfortunately for that rotten, repugnant ruling class, Internet has transformed society and, God willing, even now the axe is laid to the root of certain Establishment trees. At the click of a mouse, we can access, for example, Sean O'Donovan's article about Trevelyan ('Charles Edward Trevelyan : Hero or Villain ?'), and discover that the father figure in question was nothing more than a pathological mass murderer. In Mr O'Donovan's article, we discover too the brazenness of the Trevelyan blood line, and hear the preposterous ranting of his worthy descendant Laura Trevelyan, who has the absolute gall to declare : "I'm not defending him or endorsing some of his actions, but I want to show that he was more humane than has been portrayed", the said Laura then going on to cite, unflinchingly, a quote from his personal journal that  "the people should not be allowed to starve." Well, that's fine then, isn't it ? 'The people' can sleep easy in their mass graves. As our national poet, WB Yeats, said in 'The Old Stone Cross' :

"A statesman is an easy man,

He tells his lies by rote ;

A journalist makes up his lies

And takes you by the throat ;

So stay at home and drink your beer

And let the neighbours vote."

They never change. Liars all. And their conscience is clear, quite simply because they don't have one. Trevelyan was undoubtedly a freemason, an enemy of the human race in general and of the Catholic church in particular. This is the same group of psychopaths to which belong His Royal Highness (the title is, of course, a sick joke) the Duke of Edinburgh and his useless, degenerate son, also a Charles, like Trevelyan. Butcher to butcher.

These are the ones who had Lady Diana Spencer murdered because she knew too much about their stinking system and because she, unlike them, was real royalty, so loved by her people that they turned out in their millions to accompany her to her last resting place, stopping their cars on the M1 to pay their respects as the Daimler carrying her coffin went by in the opposite direction, strewing the whole way from London to Althorp with flowers and tears. Sad, mad murderers of beauty, none of us will mourn your solitary passing, and you will go to the grave alone, enemies of the people for eternity. The axe is laid and your game is up.

Aforesaid HRH's project for the world is to "cull" (his term) 95% of the human race in order to give the remaining 5% (of which, it goes without saying, he will be one) sufficient "living space". If the latter term vaguely reminds you of another madman, I can assure you that this is no coincidence. And in Ireland, poor Ireland, the project was of the same nature : to remove "surplus population". Viewed from this angle, Trevelyan did a good job, for which he was duly knighted by Queen Victoria. Two and a half million, at least, 'removed' in seven years. 'To encourage self-reliance' according to butcher Trevelyan. And all done in the name of 'England', poor England, as if these frantic freaks could ever know what, or even where, is our merry England.

The Irish, bless their bright souls, are not taken in by such disinformation. Of all the towns which suffered in those terrible years of An Gorta Mor, Skibbereen ('Skib', to the locals), in County Cork, probably suffered most. If you go to the town cemetery at Abbeystrewery, a mile outside town beside the N 71 going west to Bantry, you can visit the burial pits where 9,000 of the local people lie in a mass grave the size of some people's front lawns. Before the grave stands a monument to the dead, consisting of five grey slabs. On the slab second from right, you can read the words :

"Oh God ! that bread should be so dear,

And flesh and blood so cheap !"

Those lines were written two years before The Famine began, in 1843. The writer was Thomas Hood, an English poet. The poem is called 'The Song of The Shirt'. It describes the abject misery of the English working class, in the person of a seamstress, suffering under Trevelyan's oh, so efficient administration of my native land. The poem ends :

"Stitch ! Stitch ! Stitch ! In poverty, hunger and dirt,

And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, -

Would that its tone could reach the Rich ! -

She sang this 'Song of the Shirt'."

When you listen to Laura Trevelyan, you understand that its tone never did, and never will, 'reach the Rich'. However, we don't give a damn what reaches them any more. What is important is that it reached our brothers and sisters in Skibbereen who, with their innate Irish wisdom, were never taken in by all the claptrap about English versus Irish. When they mourn their dead, they do it with the words a poet from over the Irish Sea used to mourn his own downtrodden people back in England. Anglo-Irish working class, on both sides of the water, together in life as in death. One family, one nation under God, ruled and misruled for seven dark centuries, but never divided. Yes, we won in the end, us, the Anglo-Irish. Hear Yeats, voice of the indomitable Irish, again and again for eternity :

"Many times man lives and dies

Between his two eternities,

That of race and that of soul

And ancient Ireland knew it all.

Whether man dies in his bed

Or the rifle knocks him dead

A brief parting from those dear

Is the worst man has to fear.

Though grave-diggers' toil is long

Sharp their spades, their muscle strong,

They but thrust their buried men

Back in the human mind again."

English pilgrim, go to Skibbereen, and spend time talking and singing and dancing (all of which they do as only the Irish can) with your Irish brothers and sisters our 'lordships' tried so hard to poison by that black, masonic hatred of theirs, all in vain. Then kneel before those five grey slabs and say, once and for all : God bless Ireland and the wonderful Irish people. Yes, it is "still the indomitable Irishry" you see here, as our national poet and prophet so rightly said it would be, "in coming days".

"Come out of charity, and dance with me in Ireland."

A Pilgrim's vision. Spirit to spirit. Angel among angels in Skib.

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